RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER. One hundred and tiventy copies printed on American hand-made paper. 'this copy is No. -j ' RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER BY FRANCIS WILSON NEW YORK PRINTED AT THE DEVINNE PRESS 1897 Copyright, 1897, by Frank E. Hopkins. * r *-* To "AL," whose full name is ALBERT H. CANBY, who has shared all the joys (there never were any sorrows, that I remember) of most of what 's within, this book is affectionately inscribed. 493271 ENGLISH NOTE. The thanks of the publishers are hereby extended to the J. B. Lippincott Company for permission to reprint that portion of these Recollections which originally ap- peared in Lippincott's Magazine for January, 1891 ; to Messrs. Aimc Dupont, Falk, Prince, Schloss, Anderson, and Sarony, photographers, to The Century Company, and to Mr. Evert Jansen Wendell and Mr. Peter Gilsey for courtesies in the use of illustrations. The reproductions are by Mr. Edward Bierstadt, of New York. ILLUSTRATIONS. OPPOSITE PAGE. Francis Wilson, signed Frontispiece. Emily Von Erdon Wilson, and her son . . . i Charles Edwin Wilson 8 Mackin and Wilson i8 William Birch. David 8. Wambold. Charles Backus. William Emerson 20 Programs of the San Francisco Minstrels and Josh Hart's Theatre Comique Combination . 20 Ben Cotton's letter 21 Professor J. Howard Mahony 22 " A Position of Respect." Drawn by E. W. Kemble 25 Colonel Thomas H. Monstery 26 "Old Friends" 28 " Doing Serious Business." Drawn by E. W. Kemble 31 Annie Pixley as M'liss 32 X Illustrations. OPPOSITE PAGE. Program of " Our Goblins" 36 Colonel John A. McCaull. J. H. Haverly. William Bain Gill. Miss Mira Barrie . . 38 Mr. Wilson as The Baron, in " Our Goblins." As Don Sancho, in " The Queen's Lace Hand- kerchief." As Prutchesko, in " Apajune " . 41 Program of " Erminie " 48 Mr. Wilson as Cadeaux, in "Erminie" ... 50 Mr. Wilson and W. S. Daboll as Cadeaux and Ravennes, in "Erminie" 52 " The Little Peach," facsimile in Eugene Field's handwriting 54 Miss Marie Jansen, signed 56 Program of "The Oolah" 58 Mr. Wilson as The Oolah. J. Cheever Good- win. Mr. Wilson as Mellisen, in "The Devil's Deputy." As Giuseppe, in "The Gondoliers " 60 Mr. Wilson as David, in "The Rivals " . .62 Mr. Wilson as The Merry Monarch . . . .65 Mr. Wilson and Charles Plunkett in "The Merry Monarch " 66 Program of " The Merry Monarch " . ... 68 Miss Lulu Glaser, signed 70 "John" and "Jess," the cherubs in "The Merry Monarch" 72 Illustrations. xi OPPOSITE PAGE. Mr. Wilson as Peter Griggs, in " The Chief- tain " 74 Mr. Wilson as Tirechappe, in " Half a King " . j ^ Mr. Wilson, Miss Glaser, and Mr. Lang in "Haifa King" 76 Mrs. Mira Barrie Wilson, signed 80 "The Orchard," New Rochelle, N. Y. . . .82 ERRATA. Page 20, line 5. For "James A. Hearne " read "James A. Heme." Portrait opposite page 52. For " W. H. Daboll " read " W. S. Daboll." EMILY VON ERDON WILSON, AND HER SON. RECOLLECTIONS OF A PLAYER. JOSEPH JEFFERSON once said, in response to a question put to him, that the difference between an orator and an actor was that the orator never had to listen ; that the actor not only had to listen, but that he had to listen as if he had never before heard what was being told to him for per- haps the thousandth time. Mr. Jefferson draws pretty much the same distinction between the artist and the actor — the artist painting a picture once, while the actor paints the same picture night after night, but always (or it should be always) as if it had never before been painted. And so for hours have I heard this prince of table-talkers — this actor, orator, artist, writer, connoisseur — dis- I 2 Recollections of a Player. course seriously and eloquently upon his own and kindred arts, yielding nothing in respect and appre- ciation to these arts above the high plane upon which he has placed his own. I have heard him tell, with pathetic humor, of the seamy side of his life, of bitter struggles, disappointments, heartburn- ings, and mortifying difficulties that would greatly amaze those who never think of him but with a smile, as one born to a life of laughter, sunshine, and roses. It seems strange that a comedian should have anything serious in his history, that his life should be punctuated by troubles and cares, that he should be born, nurtured, spanked, and dosed with nasty decoctions, and, finally, that there should be aught in his days but merriment and laughter. A popular actor, whose funny face had grown familiar during many years of service in comedy, once declared that it was his firm belief that if he were starving and begged for bread on Broadway he would get nothing but laughter to appease his hunger, the very idea of John T. Raymond's play- Recollections of a Player. 3 ing the part of a beggar would be so amusing to the public. In my own experience I can recall numerous instances of men meeting me privately for the first time and smiling broadly at every earnest word I uttered. It was exasperating at first, but in a little while I became used to it. And, after all, why should one wonder at it, when I was im- pressed by stage people in the same way in my younger days? I never thought of Edwin Booth without the melancholy aspect of Hamlet; nor of E. L. Davenport without the keen, avaricious glare of Sir Giles Overreach; and Edwin Adams, whether on the street or on the stage, was always to me poor, broken-hearted Enoch Arden. So, when I was invited to publish something like an autobiography, I hesitated for two reasons: one, because my readers might expect something wholly humorous, and the other, the fear that I was incapable of entertaining them with the story of a life comparatively uneventful; for matters and things that were important enough to me 4 Recollections of a Player. might be prosy, flat, and insignificant to the casual reader. I was made happy when it was decided that only a very limited edition of the book was to be issued. I knew that I should be wholly in the hands of my friends, and that one was not ne- cessarily a reminiscence simply because one had promised to be reminiscent. It may be stated, not as a fact of remembrance, but as a bit of hearsay evidence, that I began my musical career in Philadelphia on February 7, 1854. That was the first time I ever used my voice. Indeed, I sometimes think that it was used to such an extent in those days of infancy that it became stunted as it older grew, although I must confess that this thought is not wholly original with me, but has been so frequently suggested by my critics that it has become a rock-rooted con- viction. There are still left to me a few friends who do not dislike the quality of my voice and even the method of its production ; but adherence to this appreciation has been a great strain upon their friendship. Recollections of a Player. 5 My fondness for the stage could not have been inherited, for none of my family had ever been associated with the drama in any way ; in fact, my relatives on my father's side were members of the Society of Friends, and naturally enough looked with disfavor upon everything theatrical. As a child I never thought and scarcely ever dreamed of anything else but the stage. As a result of seeing Joseph Proctor in "Nick of the Woods," the usual boyish sports were neglected, and bands of Indians and trappers and scouts were formed; the Indians tied the chief (myself) of the latter to the grocery-store tree, and many were the thrilling escapes that were made while the red- skins slept, and terrific were the wooden-sword con- tests waged over the possession of some flaxen-haired heroine whose frightened mother usually routed the whole band of trappers and warriors with the business end of a broom. The great theatrical ideal of my boyish fancy was Lucille Western. Oh, the scrap-iron I have gathered, the trousers I have shredded and sold 6 Recollections of a Player. as rags, to procure enough to purchase a gallery seat to see Lucille Western in " The French Spy " ! And one Christmas night at the Walnut Street Theater, Philadelphia, because the festal season had given him enough money to buy an orchestra seat, a little boy, and that little boy myself, might have been seen perched up in the conductor's chair (the musicians, because of the great crowd, had abandoned their places), the most interested of spectators at the performance of that wonderful "French Spy"! The boy does not forget the roar of applause that followed " Colonel De Courcey's " speech to the Turk who declared that the Americans were coming to fight against the French. " 'T is false!" cried the Colonel; "the Americans are too noble in war and too magnani- mous in peace ever to ally themselves with an un- holy cause ! " — lines of claptrap which the boy has since come to know were introduced to catch the ears of the groundlings. But he is still thrilled with the audacity which prompted him, when Miss Western, as the "Spy," came quite down the Recollections of a Player, 7 stage to wrap the important message around the arrow she was to speed to the French army, to call sotto voce to her, "Hello, Lucille!" It was all done before he thought, and the twinkle the boy saw in her eye is as bright to him to-day as it was on that Christmas night many years ago. I can't remember when first I begat my am- bition to act. I know I was nearly ten years of age when my hopes were realized in a humble way. I was dividing my attention between my school studies and the practice of jig-dancing in our cellar, when I chanced to hear that a man known as "Billy" Wright, who played in a concert-hall out in the Kensington district of Philadelphia, had assisted several amateur performers to obtain en- gagements. I sought him, and after he had looked my little figure over with much amuse- ment he requested me to show him how much I knew about dancing. So, while he whistled the "Essence of Ole Virginny " for me, I jigged away as best I could. He complimented me, and di- rected me to Sam S. Sanford, who then managed 8 Recolkctiofis of a Player. a minstrel company in Third Street, far uptown, by whom I was engaged. I was christened on the playbills "Master Johnny." My first public appearance in any play was made in the familiar negro farce " The Virginia Mummy." Oh, the pride I felt when I emerged from that dark and dingy stage-door up a dirty alley after my initial performance ! At last, I thought, a foothold had been secured on the ladder of fame ! My importance as a factor in the dramatic world was magnified on salary-day upon receiving my earnings entirely in pennies. I don't remem- ber how much I received, — I have a vague idea that some is still due, — for the amount was of very little consequence to me ; the glory of acting and the pleasure of knowing that my name was actually on the pay-roll of the theater were quite enough for me. I appeared in the little sketches, danced and sang with blackened face, and, in short, per- formed about anything I was called upon to do. My parents and acquaintances knew nothing of my employment, and a safe means of effecting egress m CHARLES EDWIN WILSON. Recollections of a Player. 9 from and ingress to my room at night was devised without the knowledge of any one of the house- hold. But the secret was soon discovered, despite my precaution, for my mother found that the pillow-cases showed streaks of burnt-cork which a hurried toilet at the theater had failed to remove from my face, and she noticed that I displayed un- precedented drowsiness in the mornings. I was suspected, watched, and detected, and then began a period of trials and bitter disappointments. But a tew weeks of exemplary though insincere conduct gained some remission, and back I went to Sanford's. I was again found out, and repri- manded; but I had grown bolder and more deter- mined by this time, and frequently I threw off all restraints, and twice ran away from home to join some strolling company. Once, I remember, I went with a performer named Fayette Welch to play with a company stationed at Alexandria, Virginia. The city was under military patrol, and our audiences were made up of soldiers. How distinctly I remember going 2 I o Recollections of a Player, up and down the stairs of the Marshall House — those same stairs on which young Colonel Ells- worth lost his life, and down which his slayer was bayoneted to death. The theater was situated on the second floor of a dry-goods store, and a fife-and-drum concert was given each evening before the performance, very much after the manner of an auctioneer ringing his bell to announce his sale. I was mischievous, and worried Welch so much in one way and another that he sent me back to Phila- delphia. The return was made with a crisp two- dollar bill and some clothes in a handkerchief slung over a much-used sword, a present from an ama- teur negro tragedian whom I had taught how to make the death-fall of Richard the Third. I have great respect for that sword, for I believe the glitter of it saved me from the punishment I deserved for my cruel absence from home, where I was mourned as dead. Occasionally I took part in some amateur performance, and was styled on the programs "the youthful tenor." Recollections of a Player. 1 1 I was a great admirer of E. L. Davenport, and I kept secret the belief that if I could but gain an interview with him his interest might be excited in my ambitious hopes. But I was afraid to speak frankly to any one of this desire to meet the tragedian ; for most of my associates in business would have ridiculed the idea of such a youngster as I seeking an engagement in a legitimate theater. At every opportunity I would go to the Chestnut Street Theater and watch this fine actor with the keenest appreciation, and the more I saw of the drama the stronger became the desire to obtain employment near the great Davenport. One day I took into my confidence my old friend Sanford, and begged him to secure for me an interview with the tragedian-manager. Of course he was astonished at this effrontery ; yet he kindly penned a very complimentary letter of in- troduction to him, and wished me good luck. But now that I had what seemed to me to be a certain open-sesame to a dramatic career in my hands, I was too much dazed by my good fortune 1 2 Recollections of a Player. to act without calm deliberation. Realizing that I was about to enter the august presence of the great tragedian, I wanted to study well how to ap- proach him. I went to Fairmount Park, hugging closely that precious bit of script, and walked the by-paths and pondered. How would he receive me ? Would he still wear that piercing, suspicious mien of Sir Giles that I had seen so often from my gallery seat ? Or would he, as I faintly hoped, hear me tell through the story of my fondest dreams, and, grasping me by the hand, bid me welcome to the threshold of a glorious dramatic career ? That flattering letter from my first patron made me feel that his greeting could not be other than kindly. What did it say ? As I stopped on the bridge crossing the Schuylkill River I drew the valued epistle from my pocket to peruse it for the fiftieth time. A whifF of wind, a sudden grab in the air, a cry of despair, and that letter was sailing away in the breeze down toward the swift stream. Recollections of a Player. 1 3 Oh, what a bitter blow its loss was! But it was gone; and somehow I never mustered up enough courage to ask Sanford for another letter. So back I went with a heavy heart to my burnt- cork and jig-steps at the minstrel hall. About this time I met a boy named James Mackin, who was the partner of one named Sul- livan, both of them clog-dancers. Mackin liked me, and out of our intimacy came an indefinite sort of agreement that at some time we would unite our talents and travel in partnership. There was now no need ot running away from home to act upon the stage; reverses of fortune mad^ whatever income I could earn not only welcome but of actual necessity. In the summer, as there were no minstrel com- panies, I took to the concerts given after the performances of the circuses. It seemed to make very little difference where I played only so I played. Here was every facility for learning acro- batic tricks of all kinds, and I seldom hesitated to acquire knowledge of any description, from the 14 Recollectio7is of a Player. conjugation of a French verb to the pottery-marks on porcelain. But the travel was hard, and I vv^as such a puny little boy that nobody seemed to in- terest himself in me ; and while I could sell more concert tickets — from sympathy, I think — than anybody else, I got no knowledge of acrobatics from my connection with the circus, except so far as observation might help. I kept my eyes and ears open, and shall not soon forget the strange sights and incidents of that summer with the Rosston, Springer, and Henderson Circus. I remember that the band of Bedouin Arabs, in- stead of going to the hotel for supper after the day's performance, would raise the side of the dressing- room tent, and, sitting cross-legged in a circle, would eat figs and drink iced water. It was a bit of the Sahara Desert set down in some small Penn- sylvania or Ohio town. I remember how indignant I was at a fellow named Wambold, who would maltreat his trained dogs because they failed to do some trick they Recol/ections of a Player. 1 5 had not well understood ; and how I went outside the tent and danced for joy when an acrobat named Badeau caught Wambold by the throat and threat- ened to thrash him if he ever ill-used the dogs again. The cannon-ball man — George Cutler, a mass of muscle and good looks — used to take especial delight in saying unkind things, and I remember how widely he opened his eyes in astonishment one day, when he had been unusually nasty to me, when I reminded him quietly that it was no credit to him to be cruel to a little boy. And don't I remember how he picked me up in his great arms as if I had been a chip, and exhibiting me to the clown, the bareback rider, the lion -tamer, and all his other dressing-room companions, apologized to me, and said I was quite a little gentleman. He was my friend until the day I left the company. This leaving was somewhat under a cloud. I had bought a gold watch on the instalment plan from the trombone -player, and this purchase com- 1 6 Recollections of a P layer. ing to the ears of the proprietor, Mr. Springer, I was requested to explain how I could make so expensive a purchase on so small a salary. I inti- mated to Mr. Springer that the nature of his in- quiry was reflective, and declined to discuss the matter; for which I was discharged. Not being able to pay the balance due on the timepiece, I was forced to return it to its former German owner, who charged me a liberal percentage for the return of my money. Before joining the Rosston, Springer, and Hen- derson Circus 1 had been in the "concert" of a sort of all-star circus performers' company, the name of which I forget, but which was headed by such lights as Kelly, the great leaper, "Pete" Conklin, the clown, and John Conklin, the strong man and ringmaster. There was no menagerie, and the company traveled by two canal-boats, which were specially fitted out for the purpose. I have mentioned this company to recall one of the funniest incidents I ever witnessed. One boat was used for the circus trappings, horses, Recollections of a Player, 17 etc. ; the other for the dining-room, sleeping-rooms, and bunks of the people. This boat, comparatively lightly laden, performed all sorts of gyrations at the mercy of the wind. One night, when all " were wrapped in slumber deep," the capricious wind blew the boat against the stone abutment of a lock. The water pouring over the lock gave the impression to the startled sleepers that the boat was going down and that the water was rushing into the vessel. " She 's sinking ! " some one cried ; and then ensued a scene I shall never forget. There was a waving of sheets and bare legs in the air ; yells and cries of despair ; a crashing of chairs and the long dining-room table. One man dived from his top bunk through the head of the big bass-drum, and another broke his leg over the large fiddle-box. Just what awful thing might have happened it is hard to tell, if a boy's penetrating treble voice had not shouted out what had been told him the day before, that there was not over three feet of water in the canal. 1 8 Recollections of a Player, There was a sudden lull, and then a wild shout of laughter, in which everybody joined except the man with the broken leg and the individual who had gone through the big drum — which had made a sad spectacle of its invader's nose. I did not regret leaving the circus, for I was not far from Mackin, who was awaiting me at Indi- anapolis. We there agreed to tour the country under the professional name of " Mackin and Wil- son," and devote ourselves entirely to minstrelsy. Mackin was a very clever dancer, and together we labored very hard and successfully to make a good business reputation. We decided to add a gymnastic trick or two to our songs and dances, and many were the weary hours given up to somersaults, "flipflaps," and neck-springs, which were practised for weeks together in an abandoned ice-house on the outskirts of Indianapolis. We were a merry crowd of boys in that ice-house, as two or three of Indianapolis's most respected merchants, who, as youngsters, be- came capital gymnasts, will testify. Mackin and I soon won recognition as capable artists, our first r I ir MACKIN AND WILSON. Recollections of a Player. 1 9 success being made at the Howard Athensum, Boston, when it was under the management of that Mrs. Partington of the drama, John Stetson, and it was not long before we were called to New York to join Birch, Wambold, and Backus's " San Francisco Minstrels." After a long term before metropolitan audiences, we were complimented with enough public favor to insure ourselves ready engagement in any of the first-class minstrel organizations, and the late "Tom" Maguire, whose name is associated with the early dramatic history of the Pacific Coast, sum- moned us to San Francisco to become members of one of the most notable minstrel companies ever organized. Under the leadership of" Billy " Emer- son, the " Big Sun-Flower " and " Nicodemus Johnson " man, who with his sweet voice and graceful dancing was then a great favorite through- out the country, we played for some months in San Francisco, in the little hall on Bush Street, between Kearney and Montgomery, now known as the Standard Theater. 20 Recollections of a Player. While there I sought every opportunity to see the admirable performances given in the Baldwin Theater, where a stock company was maintained with such sterling actors in its ranks as James A. Hearne, James O'Neil, Louis James, W. H. Crane, M. A. Kennedy, and "Ned" Buckley, most of whom have since risen to eminence. My de- sire to enter the dramatic field had never abated, and there were few nights during my stay in the city on which I did not hurry from the minstrel hall up to the Baldwin to catch a glimpse of the current plays. I remember with especial pleasure the perform- ances given there by Barry Sullivan, the English tragedian. His Richard the Third was a revela- tion to me, and his fight with Richmond one of the most realistic sword-combats I have ever witnessed. William H. Crane divined my inclination to- ward the legitimate branches of my profession, and it was he who gave me the first words of hearty encouragement to persevere in my purpose. He William Birch. David S. Wambold. Charles Backus. William Emerson. j^an ^nnnm ^insttrk ENTERTAINMENT A LA SALON. onxTDU aut T&AMcsaoo uKirrHKU Anaa^ bj W. & Mnlktr. ■ALLiP. "lwMllil>lH'»»y*w^' ■», C BroOLFH OOICOORTT Hr.OBAALnAlOXtn ULLAD, "Uttte IMr." Mr D. & WAlCMaJ> OOWO EKTEAIX, ••Solid Ofa^M to lb* Fmil." Mi. BILLT BIBOB BALLAD^ Von'l /ja Bof ■; PrvU; P>o«at«.' Ut. OUlLBCDOLPH miU. efMd MadWr US FUV0900 KOTnEIJ ,PART MECOND-^n* Tlnioiui,-' hj Iteokanf Ir Dnhl* •«« DKl Dion. ASH SAT! ADD BTUR OR THE T0nC8 OF THE DAT THE BACKUS PICTURES. The Black Nightingale, n TBI OOBm BOLD, - - Hr. ABTHDK BENT It vtth tM (odtlr Or« CLOTILDE Or, tHE fiAUlS£D EEAET. Sosi^oj^ l!'SsJS¥l(iJ, BOSTON, TUESDAY, JlJliT 28, 1874. THEAffiE'^mQ^loMBINATlON (.V'ran S14 Brtuulway, New York.) I0B)ilTtl!iJ4l. - - • • Mmiffl l E LiTODT . - DlltclBr Bf UBttKili «r l>«lM lotto p«« vwMf Md Wnfikarik* pragnaa*, Mlf TWO «iDarH «u OVKBri^K ( •) - DAVB MmAHAX AMD nBCMWrTRA *LPno'i»oD*tUMro.'i na. billy bibcb Ruilpbu Bimnitoa Hr Add Himu pMfUfLO'tmUM Mr. a. u. Mban S*b>*lUB FMn>«glHi , Mr c Hoda (6 I ADjwtai •uanwvUlt. „,. Ut » B t^lHko I /o«pta. _...«- .. . Mr rwil«ool Ciodi4a Lnrnlaa , „ n, cbAtiiy BHkDi ■•■rlOB TiirtrU Mr T M ltlcwdi> ImIOMdIh) ,. Ht. J T. Lir(n«»lol Som* 1 Ot\itd SttMO In [k« rat«0r Bo«* of CloU'd* iham ib> [>«wlt o( J. . Hold-, Mm), neau* 1- Tli* iut ''banibar of Ui* Ea«l Wlai (ti> NutorlA* ttoMH.) 8cn>*l. Bf-m L*kao( U>. Or L1J. iib*B Kr. Jaau >KAftiaf I K*. HA«t»T Uf. Oio. L. Mvm ■ . Vam yr. jAsn F. OMmu ( Hwui Ajn DvaoM Na. . .KmlMibtib TtoPHfe*«wi to; rArttiirm momsm kch ji,/cc mmtmfrr Jlurttta t»d n*n^ Or1(<&Bl PUMMtoe 8»ruA, «ilUI*4 I'NUUl fxric, «iiti ehiatBdlMtor«aU*»Ur4n.AO SORO. laoiA aOBBBA eOHO aid DAIuE. hy U* W«dn - ^ - _■_ USt. HASTii Mr JahD WllJ-> LMgtiabl* Spwdallr, •aUUtd GOING FOR THE.CUPI Th« Tilented »nd Beiotiful fOY SlSieftS. - - - ■ BERTHA AND IDA |.. ib*li odclDkl Ha^ uid !>•»<• Skawba*, " MftL. MAMICB I •' " Orl'i^M' 0>II>' Da»r ' bt Klu IDA FOY^ uj <'!'<) Lit* tu br ■ ^^ BolJi.f." by HBHTHA a-d IDA. _ Mr. JAMES W MM£. - ■ - -" CHARACTER COmIc SONQS !^ "THE MULLIGAN BQAflDS!" BIt.l.'T' OaHTKU In his BANJO SOLOS MISS NULLV PIERIS • IN HER BEAUTIFUL 8 0N06 HACKtN and WILSOS in ihHr 9*mg; Dame«a amd 8k«Uh^» •t^bm. hit . ■aUlMa ^m^nt^%9 s9eA)crx.sT TUB TKnHIBLX BlAMPDI . Mr rUKOfHILrS DCOUIMUBB. . . r-BCftrTAUV DUF»T . Mr JOBV WILD .Mr B. HABBIOAK , . Mr TOinr HAKT . . .Ut.i.f CaOuiH llr, Kabti* . Ml Jauw S»*oht ii KAN1> MATIKEB» WKPygSPAY Mid 8ATTTBDAY I uLAM»m» ro fc»r a I tM rmm rmoxr x,oaBT. TWO MINSTREL COMPANIES IN WHICH MACKIN AND WILSON APPEARED. (jP Oi^iiZ^ K ' ^- U-n^t ^tfc ^-"yi/lyX ^x^i/^ -C^ C^A co-1^ ^A-^ U o-'\^ i-v^^L^ -U>«r i AorsxaiH au«>t W II Kn;i>-kl t\l> Aamiavt TvsMvan WM. UL.*i-K Hw«n lUBrasm .; AUTtiPtt U. llh'K UvmcAM. UiBocTu* .. <)B>< W>wn(i1l rv>n>fia» >t fiMKt-ll «)(«V Eh-Katc «ircn Wy J K>-riKiCi> I i)u (■■,-a«H>B»r ... . . .. Tllix. WiHtli Monday Evening. June 14, and during the Week. William C. Mitchell's Pleasure Party TliU.^i-ii n^; ojll i-r-KRl ll>. Mii-'i.-iil fMro.i.;.. ■>/>>. tn twn .u-l>. wnlioi l.j Wui. (itll. miu.1. .m.ui^.^t i.i..l iM.lh .-.■,u^-■^■\ Uy *:.„ !,>.-,. I,' . i.lill. .1 Or, FON ON THE RHINE IN GERMANY. Written— <'4ira|>iliil—l1airro«>'n/iV Mififvf." (in >i»ijiii>il»
  • «ill ui.>r r.>ru!> n«|hutiii1i)i 1i) ku' .l»»lwll< i FRANCIB WILSON MiB a r COBB I ■'tl-- |riin.li| l-ii-t li.^Ifi . M^ EUNOR DCERINO MumTnXIB&T ADBYN drnt. I.ni; vitli lli< 4'"M. KmikIji Mim AUY 00RIX)N CHARACTERS IN THE NIGHTMARE. LUDOTICO. (iiltn< r r ini«ill>ii^l; |>n-c>|»t«t<'a ii>U> m M^ of core) In a Ki'iill< iii.iii otr'iii^U r>i>< iiililiii^ . . . , B> P. BOBB BARON ADOLiTB YON BCHWARTZTHUUIUI. t- ViIIaiiiod. V"ri. with «>i<.iai lontJ- r won n |uw.Iitii>' »Uil n>l>U ry n luxm Inm- &t*'lk) by AK "troiiKlv r<- iiihliiii- . A- C SILVBRMIVB ntAHZ <» Ml^-lrrlot Ibr fTUxl M- l.~li,.lini! O. L- WARBXtBR CODNTbaS AOATOA VOlf BMlTUi^RS «» \Vi.k..l Ivuly A miilarc of Utlv IUcl>«th, fUnl-y r^nnpUl) •• Utdlry SUv. . Mar; _ tJUKlrnoD, utd ft OoMof Vim-gmr lt;u«rM.> fy n Lulj' lUnmuty w cmblipg M«* B. P. COBB WlLHBLMUfA (a iMTvecatml auUilaa. H(Mi<«tJr iDlld. *aA uitl- liflaooHly KifL-D to uelodkMMlT mwuidvriiw. ) By a Iwly Btnuiul; nMmblJikK T7. K1MTZL1.1B BT AOBYN Synopsis of Scenery, Mualc end Incldenu. ACT L OCESEr-A AidMri Owdl* «• fiU >^-Amd bank of tJU MiM- ar DnddiM I " Uim St Aabyn. 8ilv«r«ui« uul wublrr. r^bb wd hi- n«w)y aamod brid*. Po«try, MUbbIm and tvooAcilutiae. Cooewrtcd pirc*. "K«XctMl ^nd Un- br«U* Clob." by u« PlfMw« Puty. Mow po#try. morf •ott»bbl<», nut* ivctncilU- lion. Ckoru utd Aabm. "Tfc« Twtli»(bl Cotwir,' by t£« Pl^Maf* P»m Th« ClUACM Qn«Mtwn. and lh« •■ AvxA AoAHi'' and I>»Uc*o>u «y »'.vMv ' rrlfkt«t«d Chora*.- by tfa« FlMwar« Party. Tb» *»ry Uiw UokAI .V(v catf nrtaJMf wtiirry («nbt«eiiiR tetc«tloiM fwoi Ch)v«a of Morauui'ly -Ptnafeiw D*T» Bi^iun—Npgro Con certJ«nj— Modem HTinB«x*« and Prog Op<-r»,|by thf ricMorr Party The dpj»rtnr« f r Lanoh ("obb'« Mliag fmni Orae* Tbc-Mra- ,^^..„. Mu> .^It.n......n ., tfinnipf-..^^ Pj^-I- ■M^i.fin lb. A.r" mri-^lil^rWii., ACT 11 SCENE— Ab b«-forr. bnt r«aovat^ The Awalirncd TrarrlU'r and tbo llyst«ri- eoa Mudcn. Lot.- Bi>llad.' Wilbdioina SudiUn appwinuir- of the HauRbt^ Baion. Trio: -Spare the Slrangcr." Wilhr|mm-». Cobb und Huron. Tbo Bwon • nite nnd Lu.loTieo* deapair. Da<-1 Aod Dhuc^. Baron lUi-l Ludovi,-o. -nie Lo»c- Sick UiDxtt^l. Stonny ScenM. Double iSonR (of wvcogr) and danc* (of firn.liat nnUik'miv ) Baron Rud Fninz. The Wickwi Coont.-« Mid the Rrtnmod Wan-lcrrr DiioU ■■ ilic Enchanted GuKur. " Wilhtlioiurt and Lu.lovico. Thr ( ount.'»a» cajolun«; LudovitOB loKiibnoasness ; the Baron's brnngadoiio , the Mini.lr«ls mwtry, and Wilhtflmina'a W re tubed nos». cnlniinnting in a iojucsbtid riKCE n» the kkvh r*MaT Emol.onH too Domoroiw to mcnUon. " Another W.di- River to cro«i.('2nnU»u. and chorns. " FareweH. Genta," Qa«rt«tt«% Connt«fc Ludovico. Baron and Front Tb« ' Bloo.lv C«ol«.t between Ludovico and Fmni. and Ihp utill more d«apent« bWORD CONTEST between ihe Bftion and LndoYico A Sckmk of HoMoRa. Th.- return o. th« LoDcb EAt*iB. Grand Fioalc^ " lABgbing Cborua.' by tha FtaMaat Party. Tbi- Orcbt*tm, unncr tike dirrcUnn of Mr, Geo. Bowhon, vrill perform tJie fol- ne Belt^ciions: , . OVER rimE~- Feat." '■«'""» SELECTIOS— ■■Bocmceio." •^"Pl" MaUnet'it Wednesday «fc Saturday at 2 P.M, Si«~Funiitu"te uaed lu thlTrhcatre is from the Waier joma of Mr. JAH£S ORAHAM. No 19 Eaat 14t b St. " ■^JEWELERS. BANKERS & DROOOISTS FIHB SCALES. -HOWE 8?ALD CO " ^ BRO Aj WAY- ^^ , _^ HaRRINa*3 Pail:.t QHAMPIO'* xA'='ES w u— d at H>v»rty'a TheaUe OPERA GLASSES FOR HIRE BY THE CHIEF USHER. I Recollections of a Player. 37 formance of the opera, although I remember that my Admiral Porter, K. C. B., was not an effort in which I took much pride. It was with something akin to a heavy heart that I sat at the Httle wooden table and paid out to the actors and creditors — in gold — (money looks so much more valuable in gold, particularly money that has been earned in driblets and by hard work) all that I had laboriously accumulated for two or three years past. This was the money which my newly made wife and I had been so undecided how to spend, whether in a European trip — the first — or in the seem- ingly perfectly safe investment of taking to San Francisco this play of "Our Goblins," which every- where else had met with much success. It was all over, and we had paid palace-car fares back to New York and were aboard the train at Oakland looking vacantly at each other, thinking of the glories of eastern travel and delights that might have been ours. Suddenly the true state of affairs seemed to strike 38 Recollections of a Player. us simultaneously, — that we were young, had health and a future, and had just finished an experi- ence by which we could not choose but profit, — and we laughed all care away on the instant. Nor since have I ever grieved over that disastrous first venture as a manager. I now began to fisel that I could be successful in comic opera, and I continued to lay my plans in that direction. Our San Francisco venture was a complete financial failure, and I returned to the East almost without a dollar to my credit. Colonel John A. McCaull, the comic-opera man- ager, was conducting a company playing in the Bijou Theater, New York. To him application was made one day. I was really much in need of employment, but I determined that he should not discover the truth ; so when he inquired how much salary was wanted, I said one hundred dollars per week. He laughed, saying he was n't going to give such a sum to a man whose ability he had never seen tested in comic opera. Col. John A. McCaull. |. H. Haverly. William Bain Gill. Miss Mira Barrie. Recollections of a Player. 39 " All right," I replied, as I went away. We met again, and he accosted me with , " Well, young man, what is your salary to-day ?" " One hundred dollars," was the reply, with em- phasis. '* I '11 give you fifty, and call it a bargain," he said. " No, Colonel, I can't lower my price," I said, as I departed. A third time we met on the street, and he laugh- ingly asked, " How about that salary to-day ? " " Just the same as last week," I replied ; " one hundred dollars." He hesitated a moment, and then, extending his hand to me, answered, "Well, I think I '11 'go you' one hundred a week to try my luck." So we made a contract, and I appeared with his company a tew weeks later in the South Broad Street Theater, Philadelphia (afterwards called Mc- Caull's Opera House), as Don Sancho in " The 4° Recollections of a Player. Queen's Lace Handkerchief." The field was a new one, the salary high, and much was expected of me on the first night, — very much more than was realized, — and as I stood leaning against a rail thinking over the matter, McCaull's bluff " Well, you were pretty d d bad, were n't you ? " was anything but reassuring. However, I had marked out the squares, and with his permission I gradually but surely filled them in so satisfactorily that before long he had voluntarily increased my salary and constantly referred to me as his protege, his "find." This opera was continued for a prosperous run of many weeks in Philadelphia. We went to New York when Colonel McCaull became the manager of the amusements at the New York Casino, and opened that house with "The Queen's Lace Handkerchief," which was followed by a production of " The Princess of Trebizonde," I appearing as Tremolini. It is a matter of much pride to reflect that McCaull's fortunes, which were so low at the time of my joining him, improved steadily from that moment, Mr. Wilson as THE BARO\, IN "Our Goblins." As PRUTCHESKO, IN "APAJUNE." Recollections of a Player. 41 nor did they ever retrograde during the period of my engagement to him. I seemed to be not only his protege, but his mascot. Later we gave " Prince Methusalem," in which I enjoyed playing Sigisniumi very much, and " The Dotlet on the Eye" song did a great deal to excite the popular taste for topical verses. Then we returned to Philadelphia and presented "The Merry War," in which Balthazar the tulip- grower fell to my care. " Falka " followed, I playing Folbach, and at the close of that season I went to Europe for a summer vacation. On my return I began my next season with McCaull in the New York Casino, appearing in "Apajune" as Prutchesko, the rakish but wrong- fully suspected husband, which was to me one of the most enjoyable parts I had ever played. I gave a burlesque of Mr. Jules Levy, the famous cornetist, in one of the scenes of this opera. One evening, just as I was preparing myself for this imitation, I caught sight of the real Levy looking down upon me from a near box. 6 42 Recollections of a Player. I was nonplussed for the moment, and the audience, realizing the situation at once, laughed uproariously. But I had the pleasure at the con- clusion of seeing the great virtuoso lead the applause with much vigor and seemingly unmis- takable evidences of keen enjoyment. I say seem- ingly, because some days later when I met him he inquired solicitously if he went through such gyra- tions when he played the "horn " as I had indicated in my imitation. I replied that I thought he did — in a much less exaggerated manner. "Well," he said, tucking his monocle into his eye and looking dubiously out of the other, " What an 'owling idiot I must be ! " Notwithstanding which. Levy and I became good friends from that evening. During the early part of the McCaull en- gagement a trip was made to San Francisco, where "The Queen's Lace Handkerchief" and "The Merry War " were given with fair success. On the way to the occidental city, a night's stop was made at Omaha, where a performance of the first-named opera was given, in the course Recollections of a Player. 43 of which our baritone, William T. Carleton, sang an introduced song entitled " Woman, Fair Woman," the cue for the prelude to which was " Oh, woman, lovely woman, what would one not do for thy sweet sake!" — after speaking which Carleton would then make the conventional up- stage tour to fill out the time to the first note of the ballad. As he turned toward the wings I set before his eyes, but out of the audience's view, a horrible caricature of a woman I had found among the rubbish of the "property-room." It so disconcerted Carleton that he made three ineff^ectual efforts to sing, and then burst out laughing and was obliged to explain to the audi- ence that something ridiculous had happened be- hind the scenes, and, convulsed as he was, it was impossible to sing a serious song. The effect upon me was as surprising as upon Carleton. I never dreamed that an artist of so extended a stage experience could not better con- trol his feelings. I had great difficulty in making 44 Recollections of a Player. my peace with Colonel McCaull, who was justly incensed at this violent infraction of stage dis- cipline, and I succeeded in pacifying him only by my earnest assurance that I had no thought to injure the performance, but had acted solely from a spontaneous outburst of good-feeling. He forgave me, but declared that only the "spontaneous outburst of good-feeling" had saved me. I have a distinct recollection, too, that my salary that week was ten dollars minus, and that I deemed it prudent not to call attention to the fact. After much traveling with McCaull's company, and when business differences between the New York Casino management and McCaull arose, necessitating the latter's retirement with his or- ganization from that theater, I was given an opportunity to struggle for that desideratum of all artists — a metropolitan reputation. If it had been a question of money I had been better off with McCaull ; but it was one of opportunity, and I went to the Casino under the management of Mr. Rudolph Aronson. Recollections of a Player. 45 I took with me the pleasing assurance of the Colonel's best wishes. For about three years I had been with him, and not only had the asso- ciation with his company been of great benelit to me, but it was made harmonious and delightful by the frank, honest, and liberal business methods of my manager. He increased my salary volun- tarily, and did all in his power to improve my prospects, and in many ways evinced the inter- est of a friend in my personal and professional welfare. Colonel McCaull was a gallant soldier who fought all through " the late unpleasantness " on the Southern side. He was wounded twice, made prisoner, and carried to Fort Warren, from which he was pardoned by Abraham Lincoln. He was ot Scotch-Irish extraction, and had all the impet- uosity and pugnacity of his Irish progenitor. He had been trained to the law, and, defending some theatrical suit, became interested in that branch of theatrical matters to which he afterward became professionally allied, and which made his name so 4^ Recollections of a Player. favorably known throughout the United States. He was very proud, and swift to take offense. He was a sweet friend and a bitter enemy. His im- pulsiveness often warped his judgment. He sus- tained great injuries from being thrown from a carriage — the ultimate result being a stroke of paralysis which almost deprived him of articula- tion. He was patient and brave through it all, and never for a single moment gave any indication but that of complete confidence in his ultimate re- covery. As his financial resources dwindled, the theatrical profession came to his assistance, and by a single performance at the Metropolitan Opera House raised a sum of money — $12,000 — suffi- cient to last him comfortably until his death, which took place November i i, 1894. This benefit per- formance concluded with an act from " Erminie," in which Lillian Russell, then in the height of her beauty and popularity, was the Erminie and the writer the Cadeaux. I made my first appearance in the Casino's new company as Marsillac in "Nanon," and later Recollectiofis of a Player. 47 on appeared in " Amorita," " The Gypsy Baron," and " Erminie." In this last-named opera I found Cadeaux, the cowardly thief, a very humorous character in a remarkably entertaining story, and I became in- terested in him from the first reading of the libretto. I remember how confident I was ot the success of the opera even before its rehearsals began, and how our manager wavered in his decision about producing it. The secret of Erminie's success was that its story — "Robert Macaire" — is almost if not quite a classic, and that to this interesting bit of French fiction were wedded melodies of an exceedingly tuneful and popular character. Then, too, this phase of light-opera entertainment was new and very attractive ; the players in the cast were much in vogue; and — the truth must be told — there was a pink ball-room scene ! Wholly im- possible, monstrously imperfect artistically and architecturally, yet there it was; and the public worshiped it, and feasted its eyes upon it, while 48 Recollections of a Player. the artist who painted it smiled knowingly and rejoiced at the increased demand for his services. Even at this day people speak, of that skilfully lighted bit of stage mechanism with as much reverent admiration as of a Rembrandt, a Corot, or a Watteau. It is simply beautiful to see a number of people go ecstatically wrong over something hopelessly inane. The great puzzle to the manager is to find successive things over which the public will become equally indiscriminate. But the public made no mistake about the piece, nor about its music, and it is to be doubted it any light opera has ever been produced in America that has taken and retained stronger hold upon the affections of the play-goers than "Ermi- nie." It had little success in London, and its orig- inal owners parted with their rights of the play on easy terms for America. It ran on success- fully here through the heat of summer and the frost of winter for the better part of four years. I am not thought to be a very good "first-night actor," and my friends say that my anxiety nearly RUDOLPH ARONSON. - MANAGER. • Every £TeaiBg at S. Satarday Uatinee at 2 ^?^ PmsmiDiiio for lie Wwt. fnilinj July 4tl). 1886. \ e'r'mTn'i E . OPERETTA IS THREE ACTS. Music Ed. Jakabowski. Libretto, IIabrt Paclton. Produced onder the direction of Mr. Harkt PauI-TON. CAST OF CHARACTERS. Two Thieves, ERMI.NIE CERISE. ... PRINCESS DK GHAMPOSEUR JAVOTTE MARIE DELAl'N.W, a Young Officer, CADEAUX, ( RAVESSES MAKt^riS DE POSVEHT. EUGENE .MiRCET.. The Marquis' Secreiary, CHEVALIEU DE BKABAZOX. Marquis' Guest DL'FOIS. l^niiord of the Lion d or, SIMON, Waiter at the Lion dor, VISCOMTE DK BKISSAf SERGEANT. MUSIC DIRECTOR, PAULINE HALL MARION MAXOLA JESSIE WEATHEHSBY AGSES FOLSOM VICTORIA SCHILLING ROSE BEAUDET FRANCIS WILSON W, S. PABOLI. CARL lliVING HARRY PEPPER . . MAX FKKEMAS MIHHY WOODS A, W. MAFl.IN C. L. WEEKS E. FURREY JESSE WILI.L\MS Synopsis of Scenery. .*(T L— Inn at Ponverl — Hbxkv E. Hovt. ACT II.— Th.. Pinl; Bull room.— IlKXKV E. li.ivi ACT III. — Corr-fiorand Staircase. — T. S. Pi.aistkd. Scepg, Act 11, copyrighted l,y Urtiry t,. Unyl. •wA. toituRiei from oneinal plAt..> by Da/ian feruioicr. i-'irAS. MfVRH. As»'l St.ngc M;.ii:iRer, - • A. W Ma^li.^, I l*ro[.«rlic>. Stage MachiniM. - - (j. F. .SitKxnrioi,. Jr. | <>ns M^cltinivt. - jAUGs Kkahvn Jas MctioVKWS ROOF Wm PKlJ5IEN.\yt CU^CtRT. AHER THE OPERA THIS EYEMNC. (WVatlirr (HTUiittin^.) "The WKThKK I'lANoiitcl here! ~ > I I c MasuN X IIAMt.lN OKi .AX used heTe. .1 the niu»ic (lerformcJ ^t ilkis tneairc n< t 1... i)t,i.ti(ic,l of piililtshcU) .^t l'ond\ Mukic Store, n S.Miarc, X. V. Lailm' Toilet Koomv ;it nca,! of l'..ilcony .StAir>. liciitk-nicu s 'toilet Koom on lUlcony Moor < BUFF ET K I,0OI{ lil'EN IIP STAIRS. Recollections of a Player. 49 always mars my efforts on the original production of a piece. I know I was far from being satisfied with my attempt when the curtain fell on the initial representation of "Erminie." But after the ordeal was over I began to enjoy the ways of Cadeaux quite as much as our auditors did, and in a little while the wisdom of em- bracing the opportunity to play constantly in New York was made manifest. It was not a question ot how much my services were worth, but rather what figure I chose to place upon them. In a wholly private publication I may be pardoned for mentioning that for some sea- sons I was in receipt of S625 per week — a figure not approached, probably, for so long a period, by any actor, foreign or domestic. I have often been asked if I did not become very tired playing one part over so great a period of time; the truthful answer to which was that it depended upon the audience. It is never, except in ill-health, as it seems to me, fatiguing to an actor who loves his art to play a role a 7 so Recollections of a Player. thousand times — if the audience is responsive. Lacking the stimulus of appreciative laughter and applause, the repetition of a stage impersonation must be a martyrdom. But then, if this stimulus be absent it is gratifying to reflect that the martyrdom must be brief. During one of the numerous souvenir perform- ances of " Erminie," — I think the 500th repre- sentation of the opera (it may have been the Sooth), — what might have been a lamentable oc- currence was very narrowly averted. The house was filled to an overflowing extent with enthu- siastic people. As the two thieves Ravennes and Cadeaux came upon the scene for the first time, there was a cry of fire, and an over-excitable crea- ture in the gallery dashed noisily down an un- used staircase and crashed through the glass of the door at the bottom. All was commotion and sup- pressed excitement at once — for not everybody understood what had occasioned the alarm. Ravennes and Cadeaux tried to go on with the lines of the play, but little heed was given them. MR. WILSON AS CADEAUX, IN "ERMINIE " Recollections of a Player. 51 and the tension of the audience was increasing rapidly. Out in the auditorium many blanched faces could be seen, and women leaned weakly against each other and against their escorts. Those who had heard the alarm were excited, and those who guessed it were apprehensive. It was a dreadful moment. Something had to be done to prevent the threatened stampede which could only result in injury and loss of life. The right word spoken now would save much misery and probably many lives. "Ladies and gentlemen!" shrieked the ragged Cadeaux in tones that commanded attention. Then, in a lower key, he added, "There is no danger. Sit down ! If you behave like men and women, and not like sheep, a great danger will be averted ; but if you do not accept my word that there is no fire, — that there is no danger, — nothing in the world can prevent a great disaster. Please sit down ! " Not everybody obeyed, but enough did to make a diversion in the state of affairs, to set an example 52 Recollections of a Player. which could not but act beneficially, as it did, upon the overcharged imaginations of those present. Cadeaux knew he had spoken the right word at the right time, yet it would not have been half so effective but for the heroic behavior of a num- ber of the most uncompromising-looking dudes who had been occupying the front row, and who, to a man, seated themselves, and, leading the applause, called, "Go on with the performance!" Word had now come from the front of the house that the smoke from a passing engine had blown into the theater through the open roof (it was summer), and that the fire was many blocks away. This Cadeaux further explained to the audience, whose fears were now greatly allayed and whose confidence was somewhat restored. The edge was gone, of course, from the occasion, and many of the more nervous auditors drifted out from time to time. Not until the third act were the attention and enjoyment comparable with those of other performances of the play. Cadeaux spent most of that evening outside of MR. WILSON AND W. H. DABOLL AS CADEJUX AND RJl^ENNES, IN "ERMINIE." Recollections of a Player. 53 the words set down in his part, lost in profound but puzzled admiration for the well-groomed young fashionables who sat in that front row, and who were not too well dressed to act like men in a great emergency. After several years of service with the Casino as Cadeaux, I appeared in " Nadjy," playing Faragus. In speaking of "Nadjy" I ought to give much credit to the song "A Little Peach" for the de- lightful receptions and attentions I enjoyed while playing in the opera. I thought the character such an unimportant one that it was stipulated with the management that I was to have the privilege of making such alterations and additions as I deemed expedient. I had heard Sidney Drew, at a Lambs' Gambol, in New York, sing something about an immature peach to a melody that was most inviting; and later on, in London, in an out-of-the-way shop, I bought "A Little Peach," with words attributed to some English song-writer. Its humor im- pressed me so much that I decided to introduce 54 Recollections of a Player. it in "Nadjy," and Miss Marie Jansen and I first sang it as a duet in the Globe Theater, Boston, Mr. John Braham composing the pretty dancing inter- lude for us. It was a success from the first night. Some weeks later, when we were playing "Nadjy" in Chicago, Mr. Eugene Field, the journalist, came to see us. After the performance he expressed great surprise to find that "A Little Peach," some fugitive verses of his own, con- tributed years before to a Western newspaper, had been made to do service as a song. Mr. Hubbard T. Smith, of Washington, had discovered how well they could be utilized, and had cleverly given them the melody that has done so much to popularize them. Mr. Smith had found "A Little Peach" in an obscure corner of a country paper. There was no name appended to show its authorship, and though Field and Smith, through my suggestion, exchanged letters, they never met until " The Merry Monarch " company, of which Mr. Smith was a member, played its first engagement in Chicago. () i\ *Aj^m: . Or- Jin\/yt/vvJUj tc Aiuu CottyjAi Jjiuir — ^ ^ .-U«? Vuii Recollections of a Player, SS Manager Harry Hamlin, of Chicago, had intro- duced Eugene Field to me during the "Nadjy" engagement, when Field was good enough to write some topical verses for the " Go " song in the last-named piece. One does not think of Field now as a writer of topical verses, but in those days he had no strenuous objections to them, and if I remember aright they lacked the pointed something which makes the success of those indorsements of popular opinion. Later in our acquaintance I tried to secure Field's consent to write the book for an opera ; but though he was willing to undertake the lyrics, nothing could induce him to attempt the dialogue. Of Miss Marie Jansen, who was concerned with me in the popularizing of "A Little Peach," or "Johnny Jones," as we grew to know it, let me say that she joined our forces at the height of her career, when leaving a well-established company for an untried " star " meant a great deal. I en- deavored to be appreciative, and no demand she made for an increase of emolument was ever re- 5 6 Recollections of a Player. fused. She was a great favorite with the pubHc, and had an archness of manner, a daintiness and trimness of figure, and a skill and taste in adorning it, that were very captivating. During my last season at the Casino, becoming convinced that I had attained sufficient popularity as a player to warrant such a move, I made up my mind to have a comic-opera company of my own. As soon as my contract expired, active preparations were begun for the appearance of my company at the Broadway Theater, New York, in "The Oolah." The first night of "The Oolah" came, and with it a fit of nervousness such as I had never felt before. I did not dare to be confident of success. I just shut my eyes and prayed for it. Surrounded by my friends, the performance seemed to me to pass off very successfully; but when Tuesday morning came, and I had read the papers, damning me with faint praise when they praised at all, it took me several hours to dis- cover any interest I had in life. My friends O^vA^i/VW Recollections of a Player, 57 were considerate, but there was no doubt about a feeling of downright disappointment existing on all sides. So many people's opinions are made up or broken up by the morning papers ! There was, too, a difference of a thousand dol- lars in the receipts from the first to the second night, and a corresponding difference in enthusiasm. Before the production I had kept sacrilegious hands from M. Lecocq's score, and chortled over the belief that a perfect ensemble performance was what the public would praise and flock to see. The adapter, Mr. Sydney Rosenfeld, with much shrewdness, had assured me, too, that if his lines were not received with howls of delight it would be because of my failure to deliver them properly. This last opinion shifted the responsibility most admirably. If I failed, I would be blamed ; if I succeeded, the adapter would come in for the praise. I failed, and took the blame. I also took a large blue pencil and stabbed holes in page after 8 58 Recollections of a Player. page of arid and imbecile twaddle that had passed muster for wit and humor. I knew I had not a bank-account sufficiently plethoric to educate the public up to receiving M. Lecocq's score in its entirety, and I plead guilty to the infusion of some whistlish and hummable melo- dies that set the audience in fine humor and their feet to keeping time. The cunning of another hand was tried upon the libretto, and I dared to add a speech of my own here and there. Each day brought changes for the better. Our audiences said we were not unentertaining. We were find- ing out what they wanted, and the receipts were growing apace. For a month or more after the production rehearsals were incessant; every line, every inflection of speech or action, was carefully scanned until it became satisfactory. Quick work saved "The Oolah." Mr. Cheever Goodwin sat up all night with me many a time, altering scenes, preparing new lyrics, and infusing fresh life into our weak patient, as it were, and our loyal company rehearsed this new matter for BROADWAY THEATRE QanMT BnmAwf, Fb*«r-«nK 8lM« and BTilh ATune. IffMfW. V --.- .-- Hr Fnnk W. Smfr MONDAY, KAY t3th.I»9. ■»M InaiM n a. Ottrmk MT MaTIHEI *T t FRANCIS WILSON AND COMPANY I'RESENTINO KOK TUt HRST TIME THE NSW COMIC OPERA, IN S ACTS. Mtttic by CharlM Lecocq. Libretto ^ M-rrv Monan-h >[r. FR.\NCIS WILSON BIROCO. tl»* Roval A»«irolQSPr Mr. CHAS. PLUNKETT HEBISSON. AiikhaH^i.lor Extraorlinarv. «ic Mi. GILBERT CLAYTON KEDAS. Minivtrr.*f P.h-e M«. H4RRY M.\Crx)NOL'GH TAPIOCA. PrtcarvS^rrlurT I > Htfri^xi. Ma, WILLET SEAMAN HIGH CHAMRERLVIN Mb. B. K JOSLYN LILITA- Prin V.I R >v'al. tM>trotti«.l [•> King Aiuo. . . .Miss LAL'RA MOOKB AL^ES. MaiJ in Waitine to th«> Priucvyt ..Miss NETTIF: LYKORD OASi-^.Ti>;t M*iiTla, Pants, elc. THE SCENES. ACT I. — A Public Pl«ce in lodiA. beforr Siroco's ObaerratorT (Homer F. Emm<>Ds>. ACT II — Thf Hall of the Statues, in King Ao«>*b Palace rHeorv E. Hoyt). ACT in.— The CorriJor of tlie Eleptiimtd io Kicg Ahm's Palace tHeorj E. HoTt and T. S. Plaistedi. DiBECTOR or THE Mcsic. '- '- SIGNOR A. DE NOVELLIS. t The OPER.i Produced csper tbe STM:r Directios of MR. RICHARD BARKER. CostumirS. W. Daziji.^ & Co., Sew York. Costume Deugne by Perc\' A>dbrsun. of London. Properties, Edward Seidle. Perruquier, Charles Meyer. Ballet Master. Pitor. Maxbrt BiBKYBUC. Manager Francia Wilson and Company. • - MR. A. H. CANBY Treasurer Francim Wilson and Coropany, MR. CHAS. N. RICHARDS SPECIAL NOTICE. The Managers wish to announce tkat in deference to what they believe. to be the wishes of the disinterested spectators, no Djwers will be passed to the artists over the footlights. Sach as may be offered will be most willingly received by the employees in the andi- torium, and sent to the suge door to the members of the company at the close of the performance. Recollections of a Player. 69 sober-like eyes. She had on a blue-black round straw hat, underneath which was a row of very girlish dark-brown curls. I had remarked that when she had concluded her song there was a burst of applause from the iron galleries leading to the dressing-rooms, and I knew, too, that chorus people were never very enthusiastic over possible additions to their ranks. Another very favorable and exceedingly unusual thing was that she did not seek a principal position in the company. Nearly all applicants for comic- opera honors who have never had the slightest ex- perience upon the stage seek chief positions, and I have always regarded this fact as a compliment to the skill which makes these performances appear as if done on the spur of the moment. As rehearsals progressed the young lady showed such industry and positive aptitude for her chosen career that she was made the understudy of Miss Jansen, and I was startled to learn from the stage- manager that she had committed the words, music, and intricate business of the role in two days. 7° Recollections of a Player. She was sent to a private tutor in dancing, and much personal instruction and attention given her. She labored faithfully and indefatigably. I watched her, without being seen, from the front of the theater — at rehearsals — and made up my mind that if properly guided and given the op- portunity she would make a name for herself. The opportunity came sooner than expected, and when told she would be obliged to play Miss Jan- sen's role, because of that lady's illness, she very promptly fainted. There was no doubt now that she had the proper sense of responsibility, and it served more than ever to convince me of her fit- ness for a dramatic career. On the retirement of Miss Jansen from the company, shortly after, her place was permanently filled by this ambitious, de- termined, and exceedingly clever chorus-girl — Miss Lulu Glaser. Miss Glaser's career serves to demonstrate what may be accomplished with ap- titude, determination, industry, — and opportunity. Not discouraged by their previous visit to see "The Oolah," Mr. Booth and Mr. Barrett ap- t^AjJ ^^yUiiX^'iL'LyL / ^7 Recollections of a Player. 7 1 plied in time for seats to " The Merry Monarch," and a box was sent to them. Their evident ap- preciation made the writer very proud and the evening to him a memorable one. Later from Mr. Booth came the following : Phila., Nov. 17th, '90. My dear Mr. Wilson : It pleases me very much to comply with your request since it affords me an opportunity to say what I meant to say many weeks ago, but did n't, anent your delightful performance of the " Merry Monarch." Mr. Barrett and I both convulsively enjoyed it, and I think, seriously of borrowing your first entrance * for that of Richelieu in Act 4th where he threatens the "curse of Rome." May I } Your freedom from all effort is admirable. Sincerely yours, Edwin Booth. * The entrance consisted in making a false step from a palanquin borne on the shoulders of four slaves, and landing promiscuously at the foot of the royal steps. 72 Recollections of a Player. In the spring and summer of this year, 1892, a successful engagement was played at Baldwin's Theater, San Francisco, two stops being made en route — Omaha and Salt Lake City. The season of 1892-93 was devoted to "The Lion Tamer," and 1893-94 to a very costly revival of "Erminie" — some $27,000 being expended on its production, including $5000 for the purchase outright of the opera from Willie Edouin and Violet Melnotte, who had purchased it from Harry Paulton and E. Jakobowski, the librettist and composer respectively. It was to be regretted that I could not have had the advantage of the services of Mr. Daboll, the original Ravennes, in this revival — "my old col- lege-puddin' chummy"; but it was not to be, for, always an eccentric man, like the original Robert Macaire, — the great French actor Frederick Le- maitre, — Daboll ere this, in a lit of despondency, had committed suicide. In 1894-95, "The Devil's Deputy" was given, the opening being at Abbey's Theater, New "JOHN" AND "JESS," THE CHERUBS IN "THE MERRY MONARCH." Recollections of a Player. 73 York. The piece, like all its predecessors, was from the French. The music was composed by E. Jakobowski, of "Erminie" fame. Though not up to Jakobowski's previous effort, the piece was a great laughing success. Aside from the success of this piece, I shall always remember it vividly because ot a curious incident in connection with the first performance, when the audience was kept laughing for fully five minutes (a long period in stage time) by a scene between the bogus singer and the Princess, in the second act, when the two characters meet for the first time. Not one word of the greater part of this tent or canopy scene was rehearsed or so much as dreamed of beforehand. The suggestion which led us off in an unrehearsed direction came from the unexpected laughter caused by the remark " I only live to sing ! " Nearly the whole of the day following was spent, successfully, in trying to remember, so as to be able to repeat, the words and effects of the pre- ceding night's flash. lo 74 Recollections of a Player. "The Chieftain," by Sir Arthur Sullivan and A. C. Burnand, of Punch celebrity, followed in 1895-96. Except perhaps for "The Merry Mon- arch," the press had never been more unanimous in praise of anything we had given the public. We were patted on the back by everybody, and told that we had made a new and exceedingly artistic departure, and that our monetary returns were sure to exceed any we had yet had. Our artistic career was rounded, and would assuredly be crowned with extraordinary results. People praised us extravagantly, but they were so chary about coming to see us that our season was the worst we had ever known since we began our managerial career. There may have been some excuse in the financial condition of the country — there assuredly was something in the weakness of the development of the plot — the promise of con- sistently humorous complications made in the first act not being kept in the second and final act of the play; but the fact remains that all our artistic efforts availed us naught — financially. MR. WILSON AS PETER GRIGGS, IN "THE CHIEFTAIN." MR. WILSON AS TIRECHJPPE, IN "HALF A KING." Recollections of a Player. 75 The season of 1896-97 was devoted to "Half a King," which began its existence, in English, at the Knickerbocker (late Abbey's) Theater, in New York, where it played two months to an unusually large attendance. It is from the French ot Chivot and Duru, the music being newly com- posed by Ludwig Englander. Some anxiety was felt about it because of the departure made in the introduction of a touch of homely pathos here and there. But this was well received, and the fun thought to be enhanced thereby. Few people seriously consider what the modern production of comic opera means — what care, what nerve-expending force, what labor, what thought, experience, and expense, it involves ! A friend whose books on art and travel are widely read wrote recently upon the matter, and I can- not refrain from quoting : " I am glad I have seen you three times in this play — 'Haifa King.' I have seriously considered it, and I believe I begin to appreciate what it means for you to produce it as you do. It is all 7^ Recollections of a Player. very absurd and whimsical when one looks at it simply to be amused ; but when one looks into it interiorly, and wonders how it all can have come about just as it is, then the thought, the labor, and the absolute genius that have gone into it appear, and the realization of what you have gone through with it comes. "Never before have I gone below the surface of such a production. When one sees it first, the only impression is that there has been no study, that each and all are doing just as they, being such as they are, would naturally do — just as one reads the ' Biglow Papers,' and has to reflect a good deal before comprehending that Mr. Lowell — being himself — should have written them so well." The great compliment here is the remark that the only impression is that there has been no study. It is for just that particular object — to avoid the appearance of effort, to prevent the wheels of the machinery from being seen — that so much care is taken. It is quite possible, on reading the book or MR. WILSON, MISS GLASER, AND MR. LANG IN "HALF A KING." Recollections of a Player. 77 libretto, or at the outset of the rehearsals, to form some judgment as to how such and such a scene or effect will strike an audience ; but as the hour for the initial performance approaches, the nervous tension has so increased, the sense of responsibility has grown so great, from constant repetition and mental and bodily fatigue, that, like the overworked artist, one becomes nearly color- blind, and quite incapable of decision on vital points without frequent recurrences to first im- pressions. The musical conductor, jealous of every note of the score, is confident that the stage director is arbitrarily omitting certain musical phrases; while the stage director, looking chiefly to the action of the piece, is equally confident that the musical conductor has anarchistic views and is secretly inciting the chorus to rebellion. No funnier episode ever came under my obser- vation than that of a violent outbreak between our stage director and musical conductor during the re- hearsals of the second production of "Erminie." The stage director, exasperated at what he deemed 7 8 Recollections of a Player. the unwarrantable behavior of the musical con- ductor, applied an opprobrious epithet to him. Instantly all was confusion, and the rehearsal stopped until the manager should appear upon the scene and decide upon the matter. These bicker- ings had been going on for some time, and had become very annoying. I was met at the door by the stage director, who quietly explained the situation, and expressed his willingness to make the amende honorable "as soon as that excitable Italian [the musical conductor] subsided," but that he would not be bullied into apologizing. The musical conductor was frenzied. He had a big stick, and was pacing up and down the back of the stage, muttering, while he shook the stick threateningly : "I will keel-a heem ! I will keel-a heem ! " When he was pacified sufficiently to speak, he said he had been grossly affronted before his "chorus peopler," and he demanded an apology equally public. Recollections of a Player. 79 I said that I could not permit these petty quar- rels to interfere with business matters, and that if there were any private differences they should be settled privately ; I could not interfere. " You giver me de permish to forcer heem to apologizer here — after de rehears'ler ? " " Yes ; certainly." " Very well-a." (Very excitedly.) " He must-a apologizer, or I keel-a heem ! " I knew the conductor to be anything but as fierce as he looked ; that he was, in fact, a great, big, artistic, good-natured, affectionate son of Na- ples ; and I thought his anger would disappear after the repetition of a few songs and choruses. The rehearsal proceeded rather ominously, and when it was over I was surprised to see our musical friend grab up a big cane, and, going to the back of the stage, close to the door through which the stage director must pass, begin to pace, Othello- like, to and fro. We became alarmed, and I stood close at hand to check, if possible, any sudden outbreak. I be- 8o Recollections of a Flayer. gan to fear I had been mistaken in my estimate of our Italian friend. All was hushed in dreaded expectation. The stage director alone was cool, and we wondered what on earth would happen when he should have finished lighting, in the most imperturbable man- ner, his cigarette. Just then the door opened, and the stage direc- tor's wife appeared and said sweetly, " I was shop- ping, dear, and dropped in to take you home." And together the unmolested stage director and his wife made their exit. With a big sigh of relief, and a face that ex- pressed it, the conductor turned and dramatically exclaimed : " Locky for heem hees wife she came ; she saveder hees life ! " Then such a shout of laughter went up from us all as would deafen the report of a gun. The stage director made a suitable apology to the conductor before rehearsal began next morn- ing, and at the close of the day's labor I saw them. .y^ Recollections of a Player. 8i arm in arm, each trying to declare first that no play could possibly succeed without "a jolly good row" before its production. "Half a King," because of its success, made up the repertoire for the season of 1897-98. The next production But who with a dash of the pen can disperse the mists of the future ? II > z X O o Q a! < U o w X H B UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. p? e c MAIN e r VED tOAN OeSK m'^ At n ^' ^^•'Mw!i. Form L9-50m-7,'64(&990)444 :j^ rfii .■>.LU>>,\,\ Ct -O' MV'Mani^^' /'9AflVN! V-j >-l \rr- V=T% FACILITV D 000 8 40 784 3 lie cxT t please: do not remove THIS book CARD^ <^tLIBRARYQr on uj ^