£ iUCJ.A ^WE-UNIVERJ//) - C3 ^ •JO^ \3 ^fOJITVJ-JO^ FO^ o 21 HH^ 5? ^OFCAUFOfy Illr ^ IIVER% O S0# 3> =3 ■VER^ fP o ■S 3 ^W« \WHJNI I JV CF lit 34 THEATRICAL JOURNEY-WORK. erected by a Thespian Society, and leased to us. Here we acted for four weeks, with unvaried success ; and after returning for a week or two to our starting point, (Port Gibson,) where we played with but mode- rate success, we proceeded to Memphis, then a very small river town at the mouth of Wolf Creek, in West Tennessee. Here we performed in a room fitted up for the occasion in the house of Mr. Young, next to his large warehouse, then on the banks of the river. Old Mississippi has since moved away about a quarter of a mile, and Uncle Sam's Navy Yard now occupies the ground where the Father of Waters formerly traced his channel. Memphis, in 1829, contained about six hundred inhabitants, and was considered a " thriving place." Look at it now ! (1853.) Our operations were commenced in Memphis on the 23d of May, 1829, and we performed eight nights, closing on the 3d of June, the total receipts being $319 ! — an average of less than $40 per night. If my friend Jim Charles does not receive as much in a single night as I received in nearly two weeks, he is not making money very rapidly. On leaving this city our " journey-tvork" com- menced in reality. The conveyances to be obtained at this early date were anything but elegant. Com- mon road wagons, drawn by from four to six horses each, bore this small band of Thespians through the " Western District," if not in very great style, cer- tainly in great safety and at an extremely moderate pace. Our first stopping place was Somerville, where the inhabitants insisted on our giving an enter- tainment, which was attended by the whole village, THEATRICALS IN MISSISSIPPI, ETC. 35 the receipts amounting to .$39. We gave them the " Day after the Wedding," and a variety of songs and dancing, without scenery, and with a very small supply of lights. Bolivar was our next station, and here a room was very nicely fitted up for our per- formances, which were fully attended, considering the size of the village. The people seemed to come out of the woods ; but they gathered every night in such numbers that in a week and a half the receipts amounted to $349, which was an average of nearly $37 per night. Jackson was our next town, and here, for the first and last time, we performed in a log theatre ! A tax was required to be paid for the privilege of perform- ing in this village ; but the municipal government promptly met and repealed the ordinance which classed the drama with shows and rope-dancing exhi- bitions. All honor to them for it ! Their example might be followed, without discredit, by the corpora- tions of older and larger cities. Our receipts in twelve fights amounted to $481 — about $40 per night. The citizen of whom we rented the log building which we temporarily converted into a temple of Thespis, bore the name of Cloud — Caleb Quotem would have been a more appropriate appellation for this gentleman ; for his occupations were as various as the individual so named, if not " more so." He was town constable, clerk of the market, auctioneer, nuisance master, painter (sign and ornamental), car- penter, joiner, negro whipper, tyler of a masonic lodge, sexton, hair cutter, shaver (of bank notes and chins), grocer, whitewasher, proprietor of the thca- 36 THEATRICAL JOURNEY-WORK. tre, guager of spirituous liquors, baker, and deputy sheriff! A Mr. Rudicel was not far behind his neighbor Cloud in the number of his callings. He was a dealer in dry goods and groceries, saddle and harness maker, (all at different stores,) tanner and currier, trunk manufacturer, tinner, butcher, boot and shoe maker, brewer, carpenter, justice of the peace, mem- ber of the town council, and had a monkey to show ! In the town of Florence, Alabama, which was our next place of stopping, we played in the garret of the principal hotel, (the largest room in the place,) but with poor success, our total receipts in seven nights amounting to but $251. At Tuscumbia we fared still worse, receiving only $150 for six nights' performances. Our "journey-work" was suspended for one month at Huntsville, where we played eighteen nights in the beautiful little theatre which graces that city, to but a trifle over an average of $50 per night. We performed only four nights in the week ; but I find by a memorandum made at the time that there was '• preaching every night." The preachers carried the day — and the night too, — and we w T ere very glad to escape from Huntsville without a serious pecuniary loss. My brother Lemuel and his wife withdrew from the company at the close of the season here, and went to Cincinnati, where he started a little "journey-work" on his own hook, progressing as far as Pittsburgh, where he disbanded his forces the following spring without making a fortune. For myself and family, with the traveling band of strolling dramatists, we pursued our way southwardly, THEATRICALS IN MISSISSPPI, ETC. 37 and in due time brought up at the seat of govern- ment, Tuscaloosa, where we played, with slight in- terruptions, from the 9th of September until the 8th of January, to houses which barely paid expenses, without giving a dollar to the manager by way of profit. CHAPTER \. FIRE IN A THEATRE. Great Alarm — A palpable Hit, and Nobody hurt. The cry of " Fire !" in a theatre is a most alarm- ing sound. It is alarming any where, but in a theatre particularly so. Ever since the burning of the Rich- mond Theatre, whereby a great number of persons perished, the least alarm of any kind amongst a large assemblage is attributed to fire, and a rush is sure to be made for the doors — the " Richmond fire" being uppermost in the minds of all. Among the expedients resorted to during the some- what protracted season at the seat of government of Alabama, while awaiting the assembling of the legis- lature, to draw audiences to our little theatre, was the production of the pantomime of " Don Juan ; or, The Libertine Destroyed," with all the •" accessories" of snakes spitting flames, fiends with torches, red fire and blue blazes, in the last scene, which was repre- sented in the bills of the day to be no other than the infernal regions, into which the amorous Don was to be cast, without benefit of clergy ! This was all very well in the bills;" and the boys about town were curious to know what sort of a place it was they had heard so much about, but never yet gotten a glimpse of. They ran home to their daddies and mammies, and told them all about the " great preparations" going on at the theatre — their daddie3 (38) FIRE IN A THEATRE. 39 and mammies told the neighbors — and by the middle of the afternoon it was pretty generally known about town that " PI — 11" was to be played at the theatre that night. The consequence was — a very full house. Everything went well until the " last scene of all." Don Juan clambered into upper windows, (six feet high) — committed divers murders ; escaped in a ship ; was cast ashore ; had a dance with the peasantry ; was invited to sup with a spectre on horseback ; did the honors of the table with great propriety, and accepted in return an invitation to sup with the marble statue in a grave yard. Scaramouch, the Don's attendant, had his fun, too ; and what with riding on the back of a dolphin, dancing with fisher- men's wives, and eating maccaroni, he had rather a pleasant time of it. " Everybody for the last scene !" was called out in the green room ; the fiends sprang to their places, the snakes were wriggled into their situations behind each wing — the pots of red and blue fire were man- ned, and a brilliant ending of the pantomime was anticipated — when suddenly an alarm of fire was heard in the front of the house ! Confusion followed, of course ; the auditors tumbled over each other, all pushing for the openings — and I am happy to say, that all but one got safely out. I will tell you pre- sently about that one; but first it is proper to explain the cause of the alarm, for this time it had a cause, which was nothing more nor less than the burning of one of the wood wings, the fire having communi- cated from one of the pots of blue fire, the ingredients of which had not been properly apportioned. On the instant of the alarm, the curtain had been lowered, 40 THEATRICAL JOURNEY-WORK. and in less than a minute the burning wing had been torn down and the fire extinguished, not, however, until the canvass had been burnt from the frame. In the hottest of the rumpus, a man named Somerville cut his way through the curtain, and in endeavroing to stamp out the burning piece of scenery, the pot of blue fire being unseen by him, he put his foot in it, and the lower part of his leg was very badly burned. He was confined to his room for several weeks. Next day after the fire — or the alarm of fire — the town rung with an account of the danger encountered by the audience the night previous. The whole affair was greatly exaggerated. It was said, that in an attempt to represent the " infernal regions" on the stage, the scenery had caught fire — the whole theatre only escaping utter destruction by the intrepid daring of young Somerville, who had barely escaped with his life. The bigoted portion of the Tuscaloosans seized upon the circumstance, and held it up as a warning to all play-goers, and shaking their heads ominously, said they knew all along that no good could possibly come from encouraging profane stage plays in a Christian community. The truth is, the tide of public sentiment was fast setting in against our poor little theatre, and I felt it was incumbent on me to do something to stem it. My plan was soon laid, and immediately executed. I must here state, that the instant the fire had been extinguished, and the house cleared of the alarmed public, I called the scene painter, and told him I would give him a week's salary if he would produce a wood wing the next morning, exactly simi- FIRE IN A THEATRE. 41 lar to the one burned. This he undertook to do, and accomplished. During the afternoon of the next day " I mixed with the people," and ascertained that all were fear- ful of witnessing a repetition of Don Juan — indeed it seemed to be a pretty well understood thing that no audience could be collected together in that building again ! What was to be done ? The new theatre at Montgomery (my next stand) was not yet finished, nor would it be in less than four or five weeks. My plan was this : — I must convince the people that there had been no fire — that what they had seen was only an imitation ! Collecting together a committee of respectable citi- zens, we all took a drink and proceeded to the thea- tre. " Gentlemen," said I, after seating them on the front bench, " it has been reported, much to the injury of my interests, and the interests of the drama, that there was a fire here last night. My object in asking you hither, is to disabuse you, and through you the public of Tuscaloosa on this subject." Here one of the cutest of the committee observed — " Come, Smith, that won't exactly do ; I was here myself, and there certainly was a fire — something of a fire ; for before the curtain was lowered, I saw one of them wings, I think you call them, all in a bright flame." "My worthy friend, " I replied, "I don't in the least doubt you think you saw it in a bright flame, as you say ; but my object is to convince you that you labored under an optical illusion." " Optical h — 11 and d — n !" exclaimed rather has- tily the aforesaid speaker — " I tell you I saw with 4 42 THEATRICAL JOURNEY-WORK. my own eyes that scenery which stood down there at your left, all in a blaze." " Excuse me, my dear sir," calmly replied I — " you think you saw it ; but I'll convince you in one moment of your error." Here I called the carpenter, and asked him to place the first wood wing in its appropriate groove. This he did almost instantly. " There, gentlemen," I said, pointing to the newly painted piece of scenery, triumphantly, — " I believe you will recognize that ; you have seen it often enough." A close examination now took place, the result of which was the firm belief that it was the same wing they had supposed to be destroyed by fire. The committee of citizens unanimously agreed that the imitation of fire the night previous had been most perfect, and gave me a certificate, which I published in an extra poster, that they had investigated the whole subject, and had come to the conclusion that there had been a false alarm of fire in the theatre, and that there was no danger whatever in visiting that admirably conducted establisment. " Don Juan" had a " run," and was the most successful piece of the season — the last scene being particularly ap- plauded for its truthful representation of the infernal regions. But poor Somerville ! — where was he all this time ? He had heard of the reports about town, that the fire was all a sham ; but he was confined to his room from the effects of this sham fire. One day he came limping to the theatre. FIRE IN A THEATRE. 43 " Look here, old fellow," said he — " what is all this they've been telling me about your sham fires ? Do you mean to say that this burn I've got on my leg was inflicted by sham fire?" " My dear sir," I replied, gravely — "I don't know how you got your hurt ; I remember seeing you in here during the alarm — and if you got injured in your efforts to extinguish what you supposed to be the flames, I regret it exceedingly." " But," expostulated Somerville, " do you mean to say, that one of your wings was not in a bright blaze ?" " I mean to say," replied I, " that one of the wings might have appeared to be burning — but there is the wing to speak for itself," I continued, pointing it out. It was a somewhat remarkable wing. It stood front of all the rest, and was therefore familiar to the view of the audience. It was moreover of a peculiar kind, being composed principally of the body of a large tree, with a dead limb on one side and a tre- mendous knothole on the other. It was a wing to be remembered. Somerville took a good look at the renovated wing — went around it, viewed it in every light — felt of it, and at last, being apparently perfectly satisfied, observed, as he limped away — "Well, I'll be d— d if that fire wasn't the best imitation I ever saw !" CHAPTER VI. THEATRICAL PIONEERING ON THE ALABAMA RIVER. Montgomery — Two worthy citizens — Madame Feron, the Canta- trice — Queer substitutes for an Orchestra — Thomas Hamblin — Selma — A theatre-going community — Mobile. Previous to this time I had made a contract with Mr. Caldwell to lease from him the Natchez Theatre for a spring season ; and it was now time to wend my way to open that establishment, in order to " catch the stars" as they passed up from New Orleans to the cities of the Western country ; but receiving from Montgomery a warm invitation to visit that town, and occupy for a limited period a beautiful new theatre, just erected by a Thespian Society, instead of taking a boat for Mobile, on our way to Natchez, (through New Orleans,) we once more betook our- selves to the large road wagons, and in five days found ourselves, " bag and baggage," at the place which is now the seat of government of Alabama. Here I beeame acquainted with John H. Thor- ington, a lawyer of great practice, who possessed all the qualities requisite to constitute a good man. He is no longer living to read my praises ; but it affords me a melancholy pleasure to record his unvarying kindness to me and mine. As mayor or intendant of the town, some years afterwards, he took a decided stand against the gamblers who congregated in Montgomery, in great foree, and he was persecuted by them in various ways, until he concluded to leave (44) THEATRICAL PIONEERING. 45 the place, and remove to the western country. In Iowa he was afflicted with a disease consequent upon the severe climate, which settled into his limbs, caus- ing paralysis, and threatening his life. In hopes of relief, he was taken to New Orleans, and placed as a boarder in the Charity Hospital, where he ended his days. I was with him while he was lying on his death- bed, and afforded him at least the satisfaction of knowing he had a friend near him. Poor Thoring- ton ! He could not speak his thanks ; but the pres- sure of his hand, even after he had lost the ability to raise his arm, told me that his stout Irish heart re- tained its warmth to the last pulsation. There were other warm and true friends that I made in Montgomery — George Whitman, for one. At the time I write of, Mr. Whitman was one of the first merchants of the place, and owned real estate sufficient to make him a millionaire, which he would undoubtedly be at this moment — if he had held on to it. The Montgomery Theatre opened, in an un- finished state, the latter part of January, 1830. The attendance was good for two weeks, which was the limit of our stay, in consequence of my engagement at Natchez. Madame Feron, the great singer, per- formed with us two nights, and as we were without a regular orchestra, various means were resorted to for an accompaniment to her songs. A piano-forte was introduced upon the stage, and she accompanied her- self in some pieces — in others, she pressed me into the service. Thus in the farce entitled, " Of Age to-morrow," the dialogue was necessarily changed a little from the original text : 4* 46 THEATRICAL JOURNEY-WORK. Maria — I had a lover once. Baron — A lover ? Twenty, I dare say. Maria — But he deserted me. Baron — Deserted you? Impossible? What had he to say for himself? Maria — He said nothing ; but [if you 11 have the kindness to seat yourself at that piano, and give me an accompaniment] I'll tell you what I said to him. 7 ' Suiting the action to the word, the accomodating Baron Willinghurst (personated by the writer hereof,) seated himself at the piano, and the beautiful song, " As I hang on your bosom," was gloriously breathed forth by the great prima donna of European Opera, in a theatre surrounded by uncut trees, and occupied by an audience whose appreciation was as warm as that of the dilettanti of Italy. In the farce of " No Song no Supper," to account for the presence, in Farmer Crop's house, of so rich an article of furniture as a piano-forte, Crop was constrained to say that a rich neighbour had stored it there until he could get his new house ready for its reception. Thus accounting for the instrument being there, it was an easy matter to ask Margaretta to play upon it — then a song was asked for ; and after that another, and so on. Madame Feron entered into the spirit of the scene, and seemed to enjoy herself very much, imparting her good humour to all around, both before and be- hind the curtain. Mr. Maddox, since manager of the Princess Theatre, London, accompanied Madame Feron, as her man of business. From Montgomery she proceeded to New Orleans, where she had an engagement. In two weeks we received in Montgomery the sum THEATRICAL PIONEERING. 47 of $883, out of which I paid Madame Feron $101 for her two nights acting and singing. At the moment of departure from this village, I had a pleasant interview with Mr. Thomas S. Hamblin, who was returning from a southern engagement. While revising these pages, I hear of his decease ! We proceeded next to Selma, a very small village on the Alabama river, where we performed nine nights in a ball room, fitted up for the purpose, to receipts of exactly $70 per night. The number of inhabitants did not exceed 400, white, black, and children. Those who visited the theatre, visited it every night. The sheriff, being one day compelled to leave town on business, came and left his dollar at the bar of the hotel where we performed ! Arrived at Mobile, I was strongly urged to remain there and open the theatre, a shell of a place in St. Francis street, which was offered to me by those who represented the interests of Mr. Ludlow, by whom it was built ; but, considering myself bound to open the Natchez Theatre, I pushed on to that city. CHAPTER VII. FIFTY MILES A DAY TOUGH JOURNEY-WORE. Back to Natchez — Bold move in management — Dividing the Com pany — Journey-work on horseback — " The king's name a tower of strength" — Riding post— Extract from Journal — Triumphant termination of the season. The Natchez Theatre opened under my manage- ment on the 10th March, 1830, with the following company : Messrs. II. A. Williams, Crooke, Kidd, Campion, Marks, Myers, Tatem, Cole, Anderson, Perry, Sol. Smith : Mesdames Smith, Crooke, Honey, Prescott, Graham, and Miss Vos — which was after- wards augmented by the arrival of my brother, Lemuel Smith, on his return from his unsuccessful traveling expedition to Pittsburgh, and other Ohio river towns, where he experienced the usual vicissi- tudes which almost invariably attend " schemes" of that kind. Having at this time accumulated a sufficient sum (about $1100) to pay all my debts in Cincinnati, with interest, I was very anxious to proceed thither, and accomplish the object of my seven years' toil. But I soon found that my hard earnings were likely to be swept away by a failing season of a few weeks in Natchez. I now became sensible of the folly of leav- ing my "journey-work," hard as it Avas, for the luxury cf the " regular theatre." At the close of the first week, the receipts fell $150 short of the expenditures ; and it was very evident that there was no likelihood of 48 FIFTY MILES A DAY — TOUGH JOURNEY-WORK. 49 an improvement in the business. In this emergency I ventured upon a bold plan to save myself from loss. It was this : I divided my forces, placing my old New York manager, H. A.Williams, in command of a detach- ment for Port Gibson, where they opened the theatre, and continued to perform three nights in the week for nearly five weeks, at the same time that the Natchez concern was in operation four nights in the week ! Even this bold manoeuvre came near failing to ac- complish the object I had in view, the receipts falling far below my anticipations in the then thriving village of Port Gibson. At the end of the first week's trial there, the following letter from my Lieutenant Gene- ral was received : "Port Gibson, March — , 1830. " My Sovereign : — This expedition must be a fail- ure, unless I have reinforcements. I have only squeezed out of the Gibsonians $162 in three trials, which, after paying for transportation, and fitting up the house, gives but about $50, with which to liqui- date a salary list of $200 and upwards — to say nothing of rent and printer's bills. Might I suggest, mighty sovereign, the kind of force best calculated to retrieve our lost ground here, I should say, come and ACT YOURSELF. ' The king's name is a tower of strength,' and if you will authorize me to announce you for Wednesday, as Captain Copp, I promise you a rich return from the treasury. "Your faithful subject, " II. A. Williams, " Gen. of 2d Division, or Forlorn B.ope. ,y 50 THEATRICAL JOURNEY-WORK. The following was my reply : " Theatre, Natchez, Sunday, March — , 1830. " Gen. Williams : — I'll try it. Wednesday — Cap- tain Copp. " Yours truly, "Sol. Smith." The journey of fifty miles was easily performed on horseback, and the result was highly satisfactory — the treasurer's return being for that single night $166 — four dollars more than the entire receipts of the previous week ! My reception was enthusiastic in the extreme ; and being called before the curtain, at the close of the comedy of " Charles II.," I promised a second visit. Returning to Natchez the next day, and acting in play and afterpiece at night, the Friday morning found me stiff and nearly done up ; nevertheless I pushed on to the fulfilment of the promise made to my friends at Port Gibson, and performed Delph, on Friday night, to a house rising $100. Acted again at Natchez, on Saturday night ; and finding by the meagre receipts at P. G. on the same night, (less than $20 !) that my performing the journey every day between our two towns would probably save me from loss on the season, I resolved to encounter the fatigue, and made arrangements for a relay of horses, by which means I could perform the journey in five hours. This feat I actually ac- complished — traveling fifty miles every day in the week, except Sundays, and acting every night for nearly a month ! It almost killed me ; and I feel the effects of such exertions to this day. But my IFTY MILES A DAY — TOUGH JOURNEY-WORK. 51 object was gained — my profits at port Gibson equalled my losses at Natchez, and I was enabled to carry out my long cherished wish to pay my debts. It may be interesting to some of the hard working " stock" of the St. Charles, who consider it something of a hardship to rise in the morning in time to attend a 10 o'clock rehearsal, and who can scarcely accom- plish the labor of studying a new part once in a week, to learn how I managed to get through the labor above mentioned. Premising that the roads, in those days, were somewhat muddy and deep, I give a short EXTRACT FROM MY JOURNAL : Wednesday.— Rose at break of day. Horse at the door. Swal- lowed a cup of coffee while the boy was tying on leggings. Reached Washington at 8. Changed horses at 9 — again at 10 — and at 11. At 12 arrived at Port Gibson. Attended rehearsal — settled business with stage manager. Dined at 4. Laid down and endeavored to sleep at 5. Up again at 6. Rubbed down and washed by Jim (a negro boy.) Dressed at 7. Acted the " Three Singles" and "Splash." To bed at 11 £. Thursday. — Rose and breakfasted at 9. At 10 attended re- hearsal for the pieces of next day. At 1, leggings tied on, and braved the mud for a fifty miles' ride. Rain falling all the way. Arrived at Natchez at half-past 6. Rubbed down and took supper. Acted Ezekiel Homespun and Delph to a poor house. To bed (stiff as steel yards) at 12. Friday. — Cast pieces — counted tickets — attended rehearsal until 1, P. M. To horse again for Port Gibson — arrived at 7. No time to eat dinner or supper ! Acted in the "Magpie and Maid" and " No Song No Supper," in which latter piece managed to get a few mouthfuls of cold roasted mutton and some dry bread, they being the first food tasted this day! &c, &c , &c, &c, &c. BUT I PAID MY DEBTS ! CHAPTER VIII. RETURN TO THE ORESCENT CITY. Cincinnati — Engagement at Louisville — Jim Crow Rice — Parson Parsons — " My Old Woman" — Off to Nashville — No success there — Bolivar and Memphis — The "Rapid" steamboat — Open- ing in New Orleans — The Plebeians and Pelbians — Cast of Henry VIII. TnE season over, and all matters settled up with the company, who proposed to visit some of the Louisiana towns, enlisting, for the time being, under the banner of my brother Lemuel, I left Natchez with a light heart, and $1200 dollars in my pocket, for Cincinnati, taking Vicksburgh in my way, where we performed (my wife and self) with manager Jack- son, for one-third of the nightly receipts, clearing $175 in three nights. Arrived at Cincinnati, Mr. Ludlow, then manager of the Columbia Street Theatre, offered me an en- gagement for a few nights, which I accepted, and played 31awworm for my benefit. This engagement was not remunerative, either to the manager or my- self — the benefit night being the only one which yielded a profit. A summer's rest placed me on my legs again ; and with the coming of the fall season of the year, came the desire to resume the duties of my arduous pro- fession. After negotiating an engagement with Mr. Caldwell for the coming winter in New Orleans, we accepted an offer from Mr. Parsons, acting manager (52) RETURN TO THE CRESCENT CITT. 53 for Mr. Drake, to perform twenty nights in Louis- ville, receiving for our services the sum of $220. Mr. T. D. Rice was a member of the company here, and was busily engaged in composing and arranging his " Jim Crow" songs, which afterwards raised him to the topmost wave of popularity, both in this country and England. Charles B. Parsons, the add- ing manager, took upon himself the leading charac- ters in tragedy, and played Hamlet, Brutes, Vir- ginias, Rolla, and pale-face-hating aboriginal charac- ters, "written expressly for him," much to his own satisfaction, and that of the public. I have since heard him give copious extracts from the speeches of Hamlet, in the pulpit — without, however, having the candor to acknowledge the name of the " poet" whose words he was transplanting into his sermons. As a Methodist Preacher, Mr. Parsons succeeds better than he did on the stage — at least I think so ; and what's more, I believe him to be now a sincere Christian — albeit it must be acknowledged he is not yet entirely' free from the besetting sin of " our tribe" — vanity. Miss Eliza Petrie, daughter of the Mrs. Petrie who had traveled with me through Tennessee and Alabama as actress of the old ladies of the drama, was the young lady of the Louisville company. She possessed a good voice for singing, and was beginning to be- come popular with the public. Mrs. Rowe was the " old woman," and her husband performed the duties of prompter. Old Henderson was here " at home," and very popular. Mr. and Mrs. Charles Muzzy were useful members of the company, as were Mr. and Miss Clarke. My wife played what is termed the singing business, with some parts in comedy, which 5 54 THEATRICAL J GURNET- WORK" rendered her a favorite, and ensured her a good bene- fit, on which occasion she personated the Countess in a play entited " My Old Woman." My benefit was also a good one, after taking which, our engagement being over, we proceeded to Nashville, where we were engaged to act six or eight nights, with Messrs. Rowe, Gray and Mondelli, who temporarily had the management of the theatre. All I remember of this engagement is this: a great number of "stars," so called, were playing, and the houses were awfully empty ! The names of Mr. Caldwell, Mr. and Mrs. Pearman, Mr. Geo. Holland, and (to make matters worse) the writer hereof and his wife, were all an- nounced in naming capitals at the head of the bill, on one occasion, without attracting to the house forty dollars ! It was at this time, (on our way to Memphis,) that, stopping to dine at Bolivar, I was persuaded to re- main over night, to " give an entertainment," (as I supposed,) but in fact to preach a sermon in the Court-House ! — the landlord having previously been told that I had been "converted," and had left the stage. If the reader of this narrative has favored me so far as to glance over my " Theatrical Apprenticeship and Anecdotical Recollections," he or she will here recognize the groundwork of the sketch entiled, " My First and Last Sermon." At Memphis, on our way to New Orleans, we played a week, with a profitable result, in a tempo- rary theatre, under the management of my brother Lemuel, who at this point concluded his strolling sum- mer season. My brother and the principal members of his party joined Mr. Caldwell's company, and after a delay of two weeks, waiting for a boat, [we RETURN TO THE CRESCENT CITY. 55 are not obliged to wait so long now a-days,] the con- centrated theatrical force made their way to the southern emporium, on an unusally slow boat called the "Rapid." The veteran tragedian, Cooper, came this season to act a fortnight. I remember seeing him play Vir- ginius, Beverly, Sir John Falstaff, (first time,) and Cardinal Wolsey. He was not very successful. In " Henry IV." Mr. Holland and myself were cast for the carriers — Holland being announced at the head of the bill as a star ! Mr. Pelby also played an engagement, and had some disagreement with the management, which led to a personal encounter between him and the stage manager, Oowell. A large portion of the company sided in opinion with Mr. Pelby, supposing him to be ill used on account of his being an American ; and the matter frequently forming the subject of discus- sion in the green room, the prompter one night be- came confused, and instead of calling the Roman citizens to the stage as " All the Plebeians" bawled out, "All the Pelbians /" which caused a great lau^h at the time. A lawsuit was the result of the misunderstanding between Mr. P. and the manager, and that eventuated in a verdict for 1 don't know which of the parties, and now I don't care. The play of " Henry VIII." was produced with great splendor, and with the following cast, so far as my memory serves me : King Henry VIII., - - Mr. J. M. Scott. Cardinel Wolsey, " Cooper. Buckingham, " Pearson. 56 THEATRICAL JOURNEY-WORK. Cromwell, - Mr. Lullow. Lord Sands, " Sol. Smith. Queen Katherine, - - Miss Jane Placide. Anne Boleyn, ... Mrs. Rowe. Patience, (with song " Angels ever bright,") Mrs. Sol. Smith. Mr. Cooper appeared twice as Jack Fahtaff, which character he personated, according to my poor judg- ment, better than any individual who had undertaken it on the American stage since the days of Cooke, whose style he followed as nearly as he could. Clara Fisher performed a successful engagement here this season, [1880-31.] A beautiful actress she then was, and a beautiful woman — the latter she is yet, to my eyes. I have not seen her act since the above date ; but she must be (as Mrs. Maeder) a most desirable person in a dramatic company, for she cannot be persuaded away from New York, where she is yearly " scrambled" for by the managers. CHAPTER IX. NATCHEZ AND ST. LOUIS — JOURNEY-WORK RESUMED. Detachment for Natchez — Failing Season at St. Louis — Organiza- tion for more Journey- Work. It became the policy of the management to make a season at Natchez, for the purpose of sending thither some of the " stars" who visited New Orleans. A detachment of the company was according detailed for that city, and the command given to Mr. Ludlow. My brother Lem and myself, with my wife, (Lem's wife remained at Cincinnati,) were among the unhappy conscripts. With great reluctance we departed for the City of the Bluffs, for we had provided ourselves with comfortable winter quarters in the Crescent City. However, there was no appeal from Manager Cald- well's decisions — and if you attempted to remonstrate with him on any subject, he was sure to convince you that you were in the wrong ! So we went to Natchez. In consequence of what I then considered and do yet consider the injustice of the management towards my wife, in Natchez, I withdrew her from the theatre during the early part of the season, and she conse- quently did not appear again until my benefit, which was a very great one, yielding a receipt of two hun- dred dollars more than than that of any other mem- ber of the company. During the season Miss Clara Fisher, Mr. and Mrs. Plumer, Mr. Charles Kean and Mr. J. M. Scott performed starring engagements, which were more or less profitable (generally less) to 5* (57) 58 THEATRICAL JOURNEY-WORK. the proprietor. Upon the whole, the season could not be said to be a successful one. Accepting a re-engagement with Mr. Caldwell, we next went with the company to St. Louis, where the season was an utter failure. I find, by reference to some scraps of memoranda, that the theatre closed in July, and the main body of the dramatic forces pro- ceeded to Louisville, (still under the management of Viceroy Ludlow,) whilst I, with a small party, gathered together in haste, opened the St. Louis Salt House Theatre at half price, and did a thriving business for two weeks. The newly organized company consisted of Messrs. L. Smith, (leading actor in tragedy, and light comedy,) Pearson, Carter, Baily, Short, Palmer, Jones, Wilkins, Mrs. Sol. Smith, (leading actress,) Mrs. Carter, Mrs. Palmer and Miss Carter. Baily was the most useful man I ever employed. Besides acting, and singing between the pieces, he was " Pro- perty Man," and attended entirely to the fitting up of our temporary theatres while we were journey- ing. St. Louis at this time contained less than 7000 inhabitants. From St. Louis we traveled on the steamer Pow- hattan. Col. Twiggs, of the army, was among the passengers. I had the happiness of forming his acquaintance, and found him to be a most agreeable gentleman. When I left the boat, he presented me with an Indian pipe, which I carefully preserved for the fire of 1838, in Mobile. CHAPTER X. SECOND SEASON IN WEST TENNESSEE. Third visit to Memphis — Bolivar, Florence and Tuscumbia — Eulo- gistic Poetry — Columbia — Thespian Theatre at Pulaski — The Stage Struck YouDg Lady — A Black Cloud — The Chase. Our first halting place, in this our new campaign, ■was Memphis. Here we performed seven nights with indifferent success, and then departed for Bolivar, •where my former landlord received me with open arms, having found out that the report of my having retired from the stage and taken to preaching, was all a mis- take. I think, however, my " First and Last Sermon" must have converted a good many of the Bolivarians, for they no longer flocked to the theatre, as on the occasion of our former visit. Our total receipts in six nights amounted to but $151. We left, and I have never visited that village since — either as an actor or as a preacher. In Florence we fared no better — the receipts averaging about the same as at Bolivar. We tried a week over at Tuscumbia ; but a religious excitement prevailing there at the time, (one lady, a Mrs. Good- low, hanged herself in her ecstasy,) we played but six nights, to an average of $42 per night, and quit. The only other incident of interest, during our stay in this place, was the evident impression I made on the susceptible heart of some young lady, which caused her to break out in the following paraphrase of some old verses, through the newspaper : (59) 60 THEATRICAL JOURNEY-WORK. TO " OLD SOL"— The Western Comedian. BY A YOUNG LADY OF TUSCUMBIA. Let bigots rail against the stage, In senseless declamation dull ; They ne'er, with all their rant and rago, Could calm a heart, like thee, " Old Sol!" Let others praise the Forrest green, And some their Booths will yet extol ; But to expel the blues or spleen, You're for my money, yet, " Old Soil" Let dandies stay at home and gaze Upon some automaton doll ; Such senseless beings, some may please, Because they've never seen thee, " Soil" And lovers, too, be highly pleased While pleading to some Pegg or Poll, — I'd with such nonsense ne'er be teazed While I could hear thee plead, " Old Sol!" Farewell, and may it be thy lot, Where'er you go t'have houses full — And when you come this way, I wot, We'll treat you with a Bumper, " SOL !" Uur next town was Columbia, (Tenn.,) where we acted twelve nights in a very neat little theatre, owned by a histrionic association, and our receipts reached $60 per night. I find, on reference to my cash book, that the comedy of the " Hypocrite" was the most attractive piece we played about these days. At the spirited little town of Pulaski we performed a week, in the theatre belonging to the Thespian Society, to very good houses. Previous to commenc- ing, we attended a representation of the society, by SECOND SEASON IN WEST TENNESSEE. 61 invitation, and I must say I have seldom enjoyed a performance more than on that oceasion. The theatre was about sixty feet long and thirty wide. No boxes — all pit. Over the curtain were two ill-pro- portioned mermaids, or some other nondescript ani- mals, blowing trumpets, and supporting a scroll with these words inscribed upon it : " The world in miniature." Underneath this motto was painted what was intended to be a representation of a pile of drums, trumpets, fiddles, guitars, and cannon balls ; the remainder of a very high proscenium, tapering off at the top like the gable-end of a house, was painted to resemble brick I This embellishment was hugely admired by the Pulaskians ; and I was called upon for my opinion of the decorations. Of course I admired them very much. The Thespian perform- ances consisted of the " Soldier's Daughter," and "Three Weeks after Marriage." The costume adopted by the amateur actors was ludicrous in the extreme. The reading and acting were equally so. The gentle- men wore their hats pulled down over their eyes during the whole evening, as if fearful of being known. The ladies (made of large boys) strided about in a very peculiar and unfeminine manner. Young Malfort entered through a back window ! and justified the step by the language of the text, which makes him say, " I believe I have mistaken the apart- ment." Frank Heartall, in expressing his extrava- gant joy at finding his supposed rival is a brother of the widow, instead of making use of the language selected for that purpose by the author, broke out in the following strain : " I am so happy that I could jump over the Ohio, wade up the Mississippi, aud 62 THEATRICAL JOURNEY-WORK. tow two steamboats over the Falls at Louisville !" In the afterpiece Sir Charles Raekett changed the game of whist to that of poker, as being a game better understood in that section of country, and swore at his wife at a terrible rate, using the profane expres- sion, " By G — d !" at least fifty times ! A fair-haired girl, sixteen years of age, followed us to this place from Columbia, with a determination to join the company and become an actress. I dis- suaded her from her purpose ; but she persisted. I placed her under the care of the landlady of the house where we boarded, and promised to give her an answer to her application in a week. In the mean- time I wrote back to her parents, stating the circum- stances of the girl's elopement, and begging them to come or send for her. The day before we left the town, her brother arrived, and after much persuasion on his part, and a positive refusal to receive her into the company on mine, she consented to return to her anxious parents. The night previous to our departure, we were com- plimented with a serenade, by all the musicians of the place. My brother and myself were in the habit of play- ing off all sorts of jokes — at the expense of whoever happened to come in our way, and occasionally on each other. We left Pulaski on a Sunday morning. The ladies were provided with a carriage, while Lern and myself rode on horseback. The carriage started early, and was many miles on the road before we left the hotel, where I was detained an hour or two in settling up the bill, and closing the business of the little season. Lem managed to slip off a few minutes SECOND SEASON IN WEST TENNESSEE. 63 before me, promising to wait my coming up a couple of miles from the town. He did wait for me. As I was descending into one of the beautiful vallies of that region, I saw before me a little army of negroes, some on horseback and others on foot, drawn up acrosB the road, as if to interrupt my progress. I paid but little attention to this, as I knew the slaves were mostly at liberty on Sundays, and I supposed they had a gathering for some frolic of their own. The only thing that puzzled me was the fact that there was my brother, riding up and down, marshal- ing the negroes, addressing them earnestly, and fre- quently pointing towards me as I descended the hill. I was not left long in doubt as to their intentions; for when I had arrived within about ten yards of the crowd, my brother called out to me, at the top of his voice — " I charge you, in the name of General Jack- son and the State of Tennessee, to surrender !" To carry on the joke which I supposed he was playing on the negroes, I answered — " I will not surrender with life." Upon receiving this answer, he instantly turned to the crowd, and addressing it in a very ear- nest manner, said — " This is the murderer of my bro- ther Sol. — seize him!" The negroes made a rush towards me, and urged on by my mischievous brother, attempted to seize my bridle rein. Finding there was no escape but in llight, I put spurs to my horse, and upsetting some of the foremost of the gang, made my way through the crowd, and set off at full speed towards Iluntsville. I was closely followed by my brother, and the black crowd, several miles, the hue and cry bringing out fresh forces from every planta- tion we passed. By hard riding I at length distanced 64 THEATRICAL JOURNEY-WORK. my pursuers, all but Lem, who of course zealously pursued the supposed murderer of his brother, until the negroes were left far behind. We then enjoyed a most hearty laugh — but both of us resolved to leave off such practical jokes against each other, lest we might some day raise a storm we could not quell, which was nearly the case in the present instance. CHAPTER XL MANAGERIAL COUP D'ETAT. Last visit to Huntsville and Tuscaloosa — The colored property- man — Candidates for the stage—. Coup d'etat — Adjournment of a Night Session — A good benefit. At Huntsville we made a season of four weeks, and our receipts averaged only $60 per night. This ■was my last professional visit to this thriving city. The drama may flourish here at some distant day ; but it will be when religious meetings and faro banks shall have lost their attractions. A journey of one hundred and eighty miles brought us to Tuscaloosa, where the state legislature was in session, and where we opened on the 19th of No- vember, 1831, with the " Soldier's Daughter," and the " Two Gregories." On the second night we performed "Pizarro," my brother acting the part of Holla. In the last act, after seizing the child, and as he was rushing up towards the bridge, he observed a tall negro holding a teacup full of blood, (rose pink,) which was wanted almost immediately on the other side of the stage. As he passed, he said to the negro — "Here, boy, carry that blood round to me on the other side — I want it the moment I cross the bridge." Away dashed Rolla, bearing the child aloft, amidst a volley of Spanish musketry ; and turning to cut away the bridge with his sword, what was his horror to see the tall negro walk deliberately upon the stage, between 6 (65) 66 THEATRICAL JOURNEY-WORK. the " waters," and in full sight of the audience, hold- ing the cup in one hand and stirring up the contents with the forefinger of the other, and hear him ex- claim — " Heah, master Smith — here's your blood !" I ordered the drop to be lowered immediately, to shut in the ludicrous scene. While in Tuscaloosa, I received the following appli- cations. They will serve as a specimen of the hun- dreds received in the course of a year : " To the theatre at Tuscaloosa, Alabama. The postmaster will please present this to some of the performers at the theatre. " Gentlemen — I would claim your attention for a few minutes on a subject which I feel deeply interested in. I am now a clerk in the small village of Moulton, Lawrence county, Alabama. I have been to several theatres, and have read many of Shakspeare's plays, which convince me at once that I was destined for no other purpose than to be a performer on the stage your company as I have been informed is the most selebrated in the State for its order and intelligence. My family are respectable and. wealthy they do not live near this place and I have always wished to travel or end my days on the stage. It is probable that you may want a young man who would feel himself under many obligations to be one of your company and as it is essential to performers to be a good size &c mine is as follows I am common size weigh 130 or 140 pound well proportioned 18 years of age and if you think I will suit you please let me know and also the terms on which you would be willing to receive me by so doing you will confer a favor on one who can properly appreciate your kindness with much respect I am your friend Alex Dupont." The other is dated December 17, 1831, and comes from I know not where. " To Mr. Solomon Smith, Esqr. " Dear sur I have discovered since you was here at this place, and performd at the Bell Tavern in Selma that Miss Sarah Robeson, was verry ankshious to jine you as an Acktriss and I have MANAGERIAL COUP D'ETAT. 67 every rezun to bleve that she wood make a furst-rait one, and iff you stand in kneed of sich a pursen I have no dout butt you could git her on aplekashun. She wood willingly have gon with you when you was here but she was a little two delikit to make her whish uown to you without hawing sum solissitashun and cons- kuently she made her intenshuns nown to me, so that threw me they mite be made nown to you and iff you will enquier in Selma and see the girl I have no dout butt you wood doo her a favur. I rite this at her rekuest. Ures and so fourth." [Signature omitted.] Towards the close of the season the night sessions of the legislature interfered considerably with the interests of the theatre, — so much so, indeed, that whenever a night session was held our hall was nearly- deserted. My benefit was announced for the closing night of the dramatic season, and I did hope that on this par- ticular occasion a night session of the legislature would be dispensed with, as many influential members of both houses had assured me they would do all in their power to make my benefit a good one. The election of bank directors, by joint ballot, had been postponed from day to day for nearly a week — one house resolving on meeting the other on such a day, and the other amending the resolution, by pro- posing another, and so on ; until the very day my benefit was announced to take place at night. Just as the house was about to adjourn, in the afternoon, the resolution of the senate appointing that very day for the election of directors, was amended by substi- tuting "at night," and it was generally understood by senators, representatives, and citizens, that the senate would meet and concur in the amendment of the house, and that immediately thereupon tho 68 THEATRICAL JOURNEY-WORK. senate would proceed to the hall of the house of representatives, and the election would be pro- ceeded with. No one unacquainted with Alabama politics, can form the least idea of the absorbing interest created by these elections, by the legislature in joint session. Everything else is forgotten — the galleries are crowded with spectators ; the whole town turns out en masse, as though the aifair could not be gotten through with without their general and particular attention. As for myself, I saw at a glance that " it was all up with me," unless I could, by a bold and successful coup d'etat, upset the whole arrangement of the " collected wisdom" of the Com- monwealth. " Here goes," said I to my brother, as I sallied out after a late and hasty dinner — "Nothing like trying ! Go to the theatre and have everything ready for a punctual beginning." "All right," answered Lem. — "111 have every- thing ready, you may depend on that; but I fear we shall have to play to empty benches." " Perhaps not," I replied ; " If I fail not in my deep intent, we shall play the ' Hypocrite' to a good house yet." So saying, I departed on my electioneering mission. During two seasons in Tuscaloosa, it may be sup- posed I had made many friends, both among the members of the legislature and the citizens. As I hurried through the streets on my present errand, I met many of the latter, who shook their heads in a peculiarly sorrowful and discouraging manner, say- ing, "Ah, Sol., old fellow, your benefit to-night — MANAGERIAL COUP D'ETAT. 69 meant to attend — but this election — must go and see that — very sorry," and words of like import. All seemed to ajxree in one thins — there ivould be no- body at the theatre, and I had better postpone ; but I had no idea of giving it up so, as I had contracted with a boat which was to leave the next morning, to take the company to Mobile. " I'll have a full house yet," I said to myself, as I mounted the steps of the state house, where the members and spectators were already beginning to assemble in large numbers. I stationed myself in the lobby of the senate chamber, where I soon had an opportunity of speaking with Judge Perry, an influential member of the senate, who had frequently professed himself my friend, and willing to serve me if in his power. "Judge," said I, hastily seizing him by one of his coat buttons, " you have it in your power to do me an essential service." " Glad of it," answered the Judge. "What can I do for you, friend Sol. ?" " My benefit takes place to-night," said I — " So it does," replied the Judge — " I recollect — Hypocrite — Mawworm — ha ! ha ! ha ! — wanted to be there; but this confounded joint session — it will kill your house — can't you postpone ?" " No — must start for Mobile to-morrow — -passages engaged. Cant you postpone this joint session ?" demanded I, looking him boldly in the face. " Oh, no — no ; impossible. It is an understood thing — the election will certainly come off to-night — no getting over it," said Judge Perry, evidently sorry that he could not oblige me. 6* 70 THEATRICAL JOURNEY-WORK. "But, Judge," persisted I — "the senate has not yet concurred in the amendment of the house." "That's true," he replied — " hut it will concur — mere matter of form — that will he the first business ; and we then proceed to the house, where the people are now assembled waiting for us." " Well, Judge — you have often expressed a wish to serve me — you now have it in your power." " How ?" " Thus — vote against concurring in the amendment of the house." " My dear fellow — it will be of no use whatever — one vote against concurring cannot be of any service to you; the election will certainly go on." "Nevermind that — if you wish to manifest your friendship, promise me that you will vote in the way I wish." " Well, well, I do — you have my promise for that," were the concluding words of the judge, as he left me to take his seat in the senate chamber, " but rely upon it the election will go on." Having thus secured the judge, I turned my atten- to another senator, who, under the supposition that one vote would make no difference in the intended action of the senate, pledged me that he would vote against concurring with the house amendment. I then attacked another senator, with the same result ; and another, and so on, until I had the pledges of thirteen senators, each supposing he was the only one who had promised me to vote in the negative. / had thus secured a majority, when the President's hammer called the senate to order. " The first business before the senate, £entleinen," MANAGERIAL COUP D'ETAT. 71 Bpoke the President, (Mr. Pickens, I think,) " is the amendment of the house to the resolution appointing a joint session for the election of bank directors ; the question is on concurring with the amendment — is the senate ready for the question ? As many as are in favor of the amendment appointing this evening for the joint session, will signify, the same by saying Aye." A considerable number of " Ayes" responded — enough, as it was generally supposed, to carry the question in the affirmative. As a mere matter of form, however, the President continued — "As many as are of a different opinion, will sig- nify the same by saying No." To the astonishment of every person in the hall, a considerable number of "Noes" were heard. The President thought there was some mistake, (so well was it understood that the election was to take place that night,) and required that those who voted in the affirmative should rise. Twelve senators stood up, who, after being carefully counted, were directed to resume their seats. The negative vote was then called in the same way, when thirteen members rose to their feet, looking around on each other with evident surpise at finding so numerous a vote in the negative. The President, after counting the negative vote twice over, to make sure, announced that the amend- ment was LOST. A motion to adjourn, made by my friend, Judge Perry, was now carried by acclamation, and in less than three minutes the house followed the senate's example, and streams of people were seen 72 THEATRICAL JOURNEY-WORK. issuing from the state house, chatting to each other, and asking what in the world it all meant? My benefit was a most brilliant one, and a few " extra licks" I threw into the character of " Maw- worm," told immensely with the audience, particu- larly with the thirteen non-concurring senators. CHAPTER XII. MY FIRST SEASON IN MOBILE. Arrival in Mobile — Thadeus Sanford, the Editor — Finn — Out-Door Estimates of Theatrical Receipts — Purdy Brown — Montgomery — Contemplated Invasion of Georgia — Selma ami Cahawba — Disappointment for Disappointment — Journey through the Creek Nation. Next day, Jan. 15, 1832, we embarked on board the " American," Capt. Hammond, which in three days carried us safely to Mobile, a city which I had long wished to visit professionally. The first person I met on landing was Thadeus Sanford — a gentleman whom I consider, after an acquaintance of more than twenty years — one of the very best men I ever knew, and a true friend. I am glad to find his political services have at last been appreciated — President Pierce having appointed him Collector of the Port of Mobile. A small theatre was fitted up over a billiard room in ltoyal street, and the first season of my theatrical management in Mobile commenced on the 25th of January, 1832, with the comedy of the " Soldier's Daughter" and farce of the " Lying Valet." The company consisted of Messrs. L. Smith, Pal- mer, Pearson, II. A. "Williams, Carter, Madden, Morton, Baily, Davidson, Trower, Donaldson and Sol. Smith ; Mcsdames Sol. Smith, Carter, Sizer, Williams and Miss Carter. (73) 74 THEATRICAL JOURNEY-WORK. Henry J. Finn came and played an engagement of six nights, much to the delight of the Mobilians. Mr. Ned Raymond also performed a starring en- gagement, and made money. He made his first appearance on any stage in Rochester, N. Y., in 1825, in the character (or characters) of the Actor of All Work. His ambition was then to become a low comedian — now he aspired to tragedy, and figured in Virginius and Brutus. A year or two afterwards, in a fit of mania potu, he committed suicide by throw- ing himself from one of the wharves in Boston. Raymond was not his real name ; that I withhold in consideration for the feelings of his surviving rela- tions, who reside in the city of New York. This was considered a most successful season, and it was moderately so. As it was my first in Mobile, and was the stepping stone to my future operations in that city, an accurate account of the business of the season may not be entirely without interest to the reader : First Second Third Fourth Fifth Sixth Seventh Eighth •week, Receipts, (4 nights,) (6 nights,) it ii (5 nights,) u a (6 nights,) tt tt (2 nights,) Total receipts of the season,. . . . My expenses during the eight weeks, including $575 paid to stars, and without reckoning traveling expenses to and from Mobile, amounted to Leaving me a profit of $320.00 G60.00 820.00 543.00 505.00 1279.00 764.00 255.00 $5,146.00 5,121.00 $25.00!!. MY FIRST SEASON IN MOBILE. 75 If any citizen of Mobile had been asked to give an estimate of the profits of the theatre that season, ten thousand dollars would probably have been the very least sum thought of ! And so it is with nearly every out-door estimate of the business of theatres. For my own part, I must confess that the remembrance of my first professional visit to Mobile causes none but pleasing sensations. The audiences were easily pleased, and the actors exerted themselves to the utmost in their several roles, in gratitude for the leniency of the public. Towards the close of the season's operations, Mr. Purdy Brown, by his agent, Mr. James P. Baily, opened, in an unfinished state, and with a very meagre company, a new theatre in St. Emanuel street, and I withdrew my forces to Montgomery — deeming it better to leave the field to the invading army than to fight a battle in which both parties must inevitably be losers. A most disastrous season my friend Brown had of it, commencing as it did late in February, and closing in the spring with a heavy loss, notwithstanding the attempts to retrieve the fortunes of the day by bring- ing on the field a large force of cavalry. Poor Purdy ! I have some reminiscences in store respect- ing him, which I may or may not put on paper for the amusement of the reader, lie is gone to another scene of action, where I trust he is free from the an- noyances of theatrical management, which, to say the truth, he was every way unfitted for, while, as a man- ager of a circus, no one was more capable. I have not preserved the records of our season at Montgomery ; but it was quite successful, yielding a 76 THEATRICAL JOURNEY-WORK. handsome profit. It was from this point I made my arrangements for the invasion of Georgia, which event was to take place in the month of May of this year. But before proceeding through the Creek nation to that old and patriotic state, we were induced to pay a short visit to Selma, where we were welcomed by the same generous support ($70 per night) which had been extended to my former company, the year be- fore. In an unlucky hour I listened to the urgent solici- tations of several of the most influential citizens of Cahawba, to give a week's performance at that ancient village, formerly the seat of government of the state; but the "lovers of the drama" were too few in number to remunerate us for our trouble, and after playing five nights to wretched business, the steamer " Herald" heaving in sight, I " pulled up stakes" in double quick time, and we embarked, bag and baggage, for Montgomery. " Hallo ! Smith !" cried one from the crowd, as the last bell rang for starting ! — "you are not going to leave us in this way V " Yes, I am," answered I from the hurricane deck. "Your town don't pay expenses — must go." "But," persisted my friend on the shore, "the people have all been holding back for the last night. They will be greatly disappointed." " Can't help it," I replied — " they have disap- pointed me five nights — and must become reconciled to my disappointing them once." And off we went. We made another short season in Montgomery, and then, our arrangements for traveling being com- MY FIRST SEASON IN MOBILE. 77 pleted, we wended our way through the Creek na- tion. I could fill volumes with accounts of this and other journeys through this then uncultivated country ; but I spare the reader all details, and carry him straight through, barely stopping by the way to say that we " put up" the second night, on this particu- lar occasion, at the Black Warrior's, where the warrior's wife (the warrior himself being off on a hunt) gave us rather " lenten fare," but fed our horses well ; bad beds, well peopled with fleas and bed-bugs ; and made enormous charges for our ac- commodation. At Mr. Elliott's, twelve miles from Columbus, we fared much better, being served with an excellent supper of fish, which the landlord in- formed me he caught in great abundance — sometimes as many as 300 a night — in a trap ! Sunday morning, May 20th, 1832, we crossed the Chattahoochie river, leaving Alabama behind us. CHAPTER XIII. THE INDIAN WAR-DANCE. Georgia — Columbus Theatre Built in Four Days — Performance of " Pizarro" with real Indians — Unusual Ceremonies in the Tem- ple of The Sun. Georgia ! generous, hospitable Georgia ! How ■well do I remember my sensations, when first enter- ing upon your soil ! It was Sunday, and the streets of Columbus were filled with gaily dressed citizens and Creek Indians. The arrival of a theatrical com- pany created a decided sensation. " When do you open?" was the general question. "Next Thursday," was the response. " Where do you open?" was the next and most natural inquiry. " In the New Theatre," was the brief, but some- what puzzling reply. Havino- taken possession of apartments in the Columbus Hotel, then kept by Messrs. Pomeroy and Montague, I asked that a message should be sent to the most expeditious contractor in the city. A Mr. Bates soon appeared, and in twenty minutes he had my directions. On the next Saturday the following true paragraph appeared in one of the newspapers : "Expedition.— A theatre 70 feet long by 40 wide, was com- menced on Monday morning last, by our enterprising fellow-citizen, Mr. Bates, and finished on Thursday afternoon, in season for the reception of Mr. Sol. Smith's company on that evening. A great portion of the timber, on Monday morning, waved to the breeze in (78) THE INDIAN WAR-DANCE. 79 its native forest; fourscore hours afterwards, its massive piles ■were shaken by the thunder of applause in the crowded assemblage of men." Here began my acquaintance — may I not say friendship? — with Mirabeau B. Lamar, Esq., after- wards President of Texas. He was a candidate for Congress — not nominated on the ticket of either party, but " on his own hook" — merely for the " excitement" it afforded him. With the same object he traveled through Texas, fought at the battle of San Jacinto, eventually submitted his name to the people of that redeemed country, as a candidate for the highest office in their gift, and was elected. " Pizarro" was one of our most popular stock plays. My brother Lem's Holla was his best tragic character ; when dressed for the part he looked every inch an Indian chief. At Columbus we produced this tragedy with real Indians for the Peruvian army. The effect was very striking, but there were some unre- hearsed effects not set down in the bills. I had bar- gained with a chief for twenty-four Creek Indians, (to furnish their own bows, arrows and tomahawks,) at f>0 cents each, and a glass of whiskey. Unfortunately for the entire success of the performance the whiskey was paid, and drank, in advance, causing a great degree of exhilaration among our new supes. They were ranged at the back of the theatre building, in an open lot, during the performance of the first act ; and on the commcncment of the second, they were marshaled into the back door, and posted upon the stage behind the scenes. The entrance of Rolla was the signal for a " shout" by the company, carpenters, and scene-shifters — the Indians, supposing their time 80 THEATRICAL JOURNEY-WORK. had come, raised such a yell as I am sure had never before been heard inside of a theatre. This outburst being quelled, the scene between Alonzo, Cora and the Peruvian chief was permitted to proceed to its termi- nation uninterrupted ; but when the scene changed to the "Temple of the Sun," disclosing the troops of Rolla, (his " brave associates, partners of his toil, his feelings and his fame,") drawn up on each side of the stage in battle array, the plaudits of the audience were answered by whoops and yells that might be, and no doubt were heard a mile off. Order beim* partially restored, Rolla addressed his army, and was greeted with another series of shouts and yells, even louder than those which had preceded. Now came my turn to take part in the unique performance. As High Priest of the Sun, and followed by half a dozen virgins, and as many priests, with measured step, timed to slow music, I emerged from behind the scenes, and " with solemn march" perambulated the atage, in dumb show called down a blessing on the swords of King Ataliba and General Rolla, and in the usual impressive style, looking up into the front gallery, commenced the Invocation to the Sun. Before the time for the joining in of the chorus, 1 found I was not entirely alone in my singing. A humming sound, at first low and mournful, and rising gradually to " forte" greeted my ear; and when our chorus did join in the strain, it was quite overpowered by the rising storm of "fortissimo" sounds which were issu- ing from the stentorian lun^s of the savages : in short, the Indians were preparing for battle, by executing, in their most approved style, the Creek War-Song and Dance ! To attempt stopping them, we found would THE INDIAN WAR-DANCE. 81 be a vain task ; so that after a moment or two of hesita- tion, the virgins made a precipitate retreat to their dressing rooms, where they carefully locked themselves in. The King, Rolla and Orano stood their ground, and were compelled to submit to the new order of things. The Indians kept up their song and war- dance for full half an hour, performing the most extraordinary feats ever exhibited on a stage, in their excitement scalping King Ataliba, (taking off his wig,) demolishing the altar, and burning up the Sun ! As for Lcm and I, (Rolla and the High Priest,) we joined in with them, and danced until the perspiration fairly rolled from our bodies in large streams, the savages, all the time, flourishing their tomahawks and knives around our heads, and performing other little playful antics not by any means agreeable or desirable. At last, to put an end to a scene which was becoming more and more tiresome as it proceeded, an order was given to drop the curtain. This stroke of policy did not stop the ceremonies, which proceeded without intermission until the savages had finished their song and dance, when, each receiving his promised half- dollar, they consented to leave the house, and our play proceeded without them. Next night the same troupe came to the theatre and wanted to " assist" in the performance of "Macbeth," but I most positively declined their " valuable aid." 7* CHAPTER XIV. GETTING THROUGH A SUMMER. Macon, Milledgeville and Athens — Editor Pemberton — Madison — The fat Landlord — Magnesia and chalk — Monticello — A feline Auditor — Negro Prayer — A thin Tony Lumpkin. After a season of two weeks, we made a move for Macon, where another temporary theatre was put up in a little less than a week's time. Here we per- formed to respectable and very discriminating audi- ences for about five weeks, after which we raised the dramatic flag at the capital of the state, Milledge- VILLE. A theatre was erected here as early as 1817, as I was told; but at the time we took possession of it, the famed Augean Stable must have been a car- peted parlor in comparison with it. Thirty barrels of lime were used in the cleansing of this temple of Thespis, and even then it always retained a rather unsavory odor. Our visit was hailed with delight by the noble-hearted Georgians, and for one week our audiences were large and fashionable. It being about " commencement " time at Athens, we posted off to that classic village, where another new theatre — built in three days — was prepared for our reception. My brother Lem was not with us here. He had obtained leave of absence for a brief period, to visit Cincinnati, where he performed a starring engagement in a new theatre opened that season by our former manager, Mr. Caldwell. He also performed a brief engagement at Louisville. (82) GETTING THROUGH A SUMMER. 83 At Athens our success was but meagre. The exer- cises of " commencement " engrossed the public at- tention, and we closed our doors after a season of one week. At this place I experienced the great pleasure of becoming acquainted with A. H. Pemberton, Esq., one of the ablest editors of the state, and author of the best Defence of the Drama which ever came under my notice. At a small town called Madison, we "hung out our banner" for a week, and performed in the ball room of a tavern kept by a Mr. Campbell, a large fat man — "fat as butter," — who fed and slept us well, and charged us accordingly. Total receipts for the week, $205 ! The barber who shaved me in this village, a very black negro, had a light mulatto wife. They had several children of the proper shade of color, and one, the youngest, almost white. Being asked the reason of the last child's being so much whiter than the others, the barber very innocently answered that it was all owing to his wife having fol- lowed the advice of a white lady during her pregnancy, and taken a great deal of magnesia and chalk to cure the dyspepsia. Our fat landlord was a very religious individual — a great hand at revivals and camp meetings ; and it was only by dint of hard persuasion the town's people could obtain his consent to receive into his hall the sinful actors. But it so turned out that Mr. Boniface, after taking a few peeps behind the scenes, became greatly taken with the plays ; so much so that one night he boldly walked into the front among the audience, and took a conspicuous seat, determined to 84 THEATRICAL JOURNEY-WORK. " see it out." The people welcomed him with a round of applause which he did not take to himself, but turn- ing around, before seating himself, he said: "Oho! you talk of my making a noise at camp-meetings — I've got you now — you make a plaguy deal more noise here at the show than I ever did there." Another " round " greeted our fat landlord, and the curtain went up. Our next town was Monticello, where we per- formed in the dining-room of Mr. Stovall, and occu- pied one of his best parlors for a green room. Re- ceipts for the week, precisely the same as at Madison, after paying $25 tax, which the commissioners de- manded for the privilege of leaving about $100 dol- lars more in their town than we received. We had here one auditor, a constant attendant, who evidently appreciated our performances — a cat ! Every night she found her way into the theatre, and seating her- self immediately in front of the footlights, watched and listened to the performances from beginning to end ! We returned to Milledgeville and performed two weeks, with poor success, closing 1st of September. Opened at Macon Monday, September 3d, and performed one week only ; after which we pushed on to Columbus, where we managed to stay three weeks, the policy being to pass the time away until the meeting of the legislature in Milledgeville. Being up and out on a walk early one morning — this was at Macon — I strolled to the Methodist church, where I heard singing. Stepping in and taking a seat, I found assembled six negro men, one mulatto girl, and two white men. A lazy looking GETTING THROUGH A SUMMER. 85 young fellow, one of the white men, seemed to con- duct the affair — asking his white brethren and black brethren to pray alternately. I stayed to hear one white and one black prayer — and it is difficult to say which was better of the two. The black man prayed in something like the following words : "0! most holy and significant Fader! thou spencer of ebery precious and delibex-ate gift, look down on your poor miserable children, and bless us with thy sacred and devoted power, if it be thy will. ! most holy Fader, we humbly pray for the instigation of thy wrath throughout dis deboted laud—bless all who hab * turned out to dis praar meetin' and dem dat habn't — if it be thy will. May thy mercy and vengeance smile upon our white bred- ren, who are prayin' and preachin' for us poor sinners, and in re- liance upon the precious blood of Jesus Christ — if it be thy will. ! bless de poor heden, and laru dem to examine de doctrines of thy Word, which is a sharp two-pointed sword, goin' out of the mouth of dy servants—//*/ be thy ivill. May de gospel spread like de cholera thro' de earth, spreading vastation and castigation around—?/ it be thy will. We pray thee, holy Christ, the fader of the 'ma'cculate Virgin Mary, to cleanse us ob our sins, and scrub us with the scrubbin' brush ob corruption, till we are the sanguine dye of thy holy truth, and tho' our sins be as wool, may dey be made white as scarlet with thy most precious lamb, which was killed on mount Sinai for our sallivation — if it be thy will. And ! most holy Jesus, send thy spirit upon us this morning, that we may sing thy praise and worship thee with meekness and com- punctuation ; and when we give up our immortal existence in this immaculate world, wilt thou receive us to thy bosom — if it be thy will — when we will gib all de glory and honor and power to our holy medidator and Saviour foreber and eber after — Amen." During our stay at Columbus, at the earnest solici- tations of a Mr. Childers, he was permitted to make his "first appearance on any stage," as Tony Lump- kin, which he performed tolerably well for a new be- ginner. His figure was better fitted for Don Quixotte 86 THEATRICAL JOURNEY-WORK. than the character he chose for his opening, being very lean and bony ; but Tony Lumpkin he had studied, and Tony Lumpkin he played. After the performance he made a regular application for a situ- ation in the company. I declined entering into the proposed engagement, and wrote him a long letter, urging him not to persist in his determination to be- come an actor, and advising him to continue his stu- dies in the law. With great reluctance he followed my advice, became in time an eminent lawyer in Ala- bama, and died many years afterwards in Mobile, of which city he was once elected Mayor. Returned to Macon, and performed a very few nights to very small audiences ; but remained a couple of weeks, it being considered quite useless to open in Milledgeville so early in the season. Time hanging heavy on my hands, as the saying is, I entered into a little " speculation," just for amusement, which will be spoken of in the next chapter. CHAPTER XV. SPECULATION IN WHISKERS. Conversation in a Broker's Office — Investment of Fifty Dollars in a new article of Merchandize — A good profit realized. There lived in Macon, a dandified individual, whom we will call Jenks. This individual had a tolerably favorable opinion of his personal appearance. His fingers were hooped with rings, and his shirt bosom was decked with a magnificent breast pin ; coat, hat, vest and boots were made exactly to fit ; he wore kid gloves of remarkable whiteness; his hair was oiled and dressed in the latest and best style ; and, to complete his killing appearance, he sported an enormous pair of Real Whiskers! Of these whiskers, Jenks was as proud as a young cat is of her tail when she first discovers she has one. I was sitting one day in a broker's office, when Jenks came in to inquire the price of exchange on New York. He was invited to sit down, and a cigar was offered him. Conversation turning on the subject of buying and selling stocks, a remark was made by a gentleman present, that he thought no person should sell out stock in such-and-such a bank at that time, as it must get better in a few days. " I will sell anything I've got, if I can make any- thing on it," replied Jenks. " Oh, no," replied-one, " not anything ; you wouldn't sell your WHISKERS !" A loud laugh followed this chance remark. Jenks (87) 88 THEATRICAL JOURNEY-WORK. immediately answered : " I would — but who would want them ? Any person making the purchase would lose money by the operation, I'm thinking." "Well," I observed, "I would be willing to take the speculation, if the price could be made reason- able." " Oh, I'll sell 'em cheap," answered Jenks, winking at the gentlemen present. " What do you call cheap ?" I inquired. " I'll sell 'em for fifty dollars," Jenks answered, puffing forth a cloud of smoke across the counter, and repeating the wink. " Well that is cheap ; and you'll sell your whiskers for fifty dollars ?" " I will." "Both of them?" "Both of them." "I'll take them I When can I have them ?" "Any time you choose to call for them." " Very well — they're mine. I think I shall double my money on them, at least." I took a bill of sale as follows : " Received of Sol. Smith Fifty Dollars in full for my crop of whiskers, to be worn, and taken care of by me, and delivered to him when called for. J. JENKS." The sura of fifty dollars was paid, and Jenks left the broker's office in high glee, flourishing five Central Bank X's, and telling all his acquaintances of the great bargain he had made in the sale of his whiskers. The broker and his friends laughed at me for being taken in so nicely. " Never mind," said I, " let those SPECULATION IN WHISKERS. 89 laugh that win ; I'll make a profit out of those ■whiskers, depend on it." For a week after this, whenever I met Jenks, he asked me when I intended to call for my whiskers ? " I'll let you know when I want them," was always my answer. " Take good care of them — oil them occasionally; I shall call for them one of these days." A splendid ball was to be given. I ascertained that Jenks was to be one of the managers — he being a great ladies' man, (on account of his whiskers I sup- pose,) and it occurred to me that before the ball took place, I might as well call for my whiskers. One morning I met Jenks in a barber's shop. He was adonizing before a large mirror, and combing up my whiskers at a devil of a rate. "Ah ! there you are, old fellow," said he, speaking to my reflection through the glass. " Come for your whiskers, I suppose ?" " Oh, no hurry," I replied, as I sat down for a shave. "Always ready, you know," he answered, giving a final tie to his cravat. " Come to think of it," I said, musingly, as the barber began to put the lather on my face, " Perhaps now would be as good a time as another ; you may sit down and let the barber try his hand at the whiskers." " You couldn't wait until to-morrow, could you ?" he asked, hesitatingly. " There's a ball to-night, you know " " To be sure there is, and I think you ought to go with a clean face ; at all events I don't see any reason ■why you should expect to wear my whiskers to that ball ; so sit down." 8 90 THEATRICAL JOURNEY-WORK. He rather sulkily obeyed, and in a few moments his cheeks were in a perfect foam of lather. The barber flourished his razor, and was about to commence opera- tions when I suddenly changed my mind. "Stop, Mr. Barber," I said; "you needn't shave off those whiskers just yet." So he quietly put up his razor, while Jenks started up from the chair in some- thing very much resembling a passion. "This is trifling!" he exclaimed. "You have claimed your whiskers — take them." " I believe a man has a right to do as he pleases with his own property," I remarked, and left Jenks washing his face. At dinner that day the conversation turned upon the whisker aifair. It seems the whole town had ^ot wind of it, and Jenks could not walk the streets with- out the remark being continually made by the boys — " There goes the man with old Sol.'s whiskers /" And they had grown to an immense size, for he dared not trim them. In short I became convinced Jenks was waiting very impatiently for me to assert my rights in the property. It happened that several of the party were sitting opposite me at dinner Avho were present when the singular bargain was made, and they all urged me to take the whiskers that very day, and thus compel Jenks to go to the ball whiskerless, or stay at home. I agreed with them it ivas about time to reap my crop, and promised that if they would all meet me at the broker's shop where the purchase had been made, I would make a call on Jenks that even- ing, after he had dressed for the ball. All promised to be present at the proposed shaving operation in the broker's office, and I sent for Jenks and the barber. SPECULATION IN WHISKERS. 91 On the appearance of Jenks it was evident he was much vexed at the sudden call upon him, and his vexa- tion was certainly not lessened when he saw the broker's office was filled to overflowing by spectators anxious to behold the barbarous proceeding. " Come, be in a hurry," he said, as he took a seat, and leaned his head against the counter for support, " I can't stay here long ; several ladies are waiting for me to escort them to the ball." " True, very true — you are one of the managers — I recollect. Mr. Barber, don't detain the gentleman — go to work at once." The lathering was soon over, and with about three strokes of the razor, one side of his face was deprived of its ornament. " Come, come," said Jenks, " push ahead — there is no time to be lost — let the gentleman have his whiskers — he is impatient." "Not at all," I replied coolly, "I'm in no sort of a hurry, myself — and now I think of it, as your time must be precious at this particular time, several ladies being in waiting for you to escort them to the ball, I believe I'll not take the other whisker to-night." A loud laugh from the by-standers, and a glance in the mirror, caused Jenks to open his eyes to the ludicrous appearance he cut with a single whisker, and he began to insist upon my taking the whole of my property ! But all wouldn't do. I had a right to take it when I chose ; / was not obliged to take all at once ; and I chose to take but half at that particular period — indeed I intimated to him very plainly that I was not going to be a very hard creditor ; and that if 92 THEATRICAL JOURNEY-WORK. he "behaved himself," perhaps I should never call for the balance of what he owed me ! When Jenks became convinced I was determined not to take the remaining whisker, he began, amidst the loudly expressed mirth of the crowd, to propose terms of compromise — first offering me ten dollars, then twenty, thirty, forty — fifty ! to take off the remaining whisker. I said firmly, " My dear sir, there is no use talking ; I insist on your wearing that whisker for me for a month or two." " What will you take for the whiskers ?" he at length asked. " Won't you sell them back to me ?" " Ah," replied I, "now you begin to talk as a busi- ness man should. Yes, I bought them on speculation — I'll sell them if I can obtain a good price." " What is your price ?" " One hundred dollars — must double my money." " Nothing less ?" "Not a farthing less — and I'm not anxious to sell even at that price." "Well, I'll take them," he groaned, "there's your money, and here, barber, shave off this d — d infernal whisker in less than no time — I shall be late at the ball." CHAPTER XVI. A SEASON IN MILLEDGEVILLE. Mirabeau B. Lamar, Independent Candidate for Congress — The '« Orphan of Geneva" — Theatrical Critique — Last appearance of Lem. Smith. Near the end of October we opened the Milledge- VILLE Theatre for the season, hoping great things from the fact that the legislature was soon to meet. My brother Lem. rejoined me here, and the season commenced auspiciously. During our journeyings the past summer, we were accompanied nearly the whole time by Mirabeau B. Lamar, Esq., who was a candidate for Congress, as I have said, and who received a very large vote, but was not elected, not being on either the Union or State Rights ticket. I have never in my life met a more gentlemanly man. He is a good speaker — rather too vehement in his manner, perhaps ; but being well read, and possessing a good face and per- son, he enchains the attention of his auditors. He was at that time rather dyspeptic, but seemed to en- joy life reasonably. He can appreciate a joke and a good dinner — has Shakspeare at his tongue's end, and can quote him correctly and at pleasure ; fences well, and is otherwise highly accomplished. Finally, he is a great lover of the stage. I dedicated my " Appren- ticeship" to him,* and on his marriage in 1851, * See his letter in reply at the end of this volume. 8* (93) 94 THEATRICAL JOURNEY-WORK. (nearly twenty years after the events I am noting,) he promised to name his first child after me — but un- fortunately it turned out to be a girl, and the idea of naming her " Solomon" was given up at once. During this season we produced the play of " Therese," translated from the French by John Howard Payne, and I must say I have never to this day seen it played so well as by the " Georgia com- pany." My wife personated the part of Mariette, and my brother that of Ganvin. It is not in my province to speak of the talents of my wife and bro- ther, (now no more,) but as they both occupied, while living, a prominent place in the dramatie company of which I was manager, and as many persons in Georgia may yet live who have seen them act, it may not be amiss to insert here a brief extract from a criticism published in one of the newspapers of the day, written (I am permitted to say now, though I did not know it at the time) by Gen. Lamar : " Mr. Lem. Smith has the advantage of a fine person, (he beats his brother in that,) a good eye and a flexible voice, not of the greatest compass, but sufficiently strong to be heard distinctly. He succeeds equally alike in comedy or tragedy, aud extremely ■well in both ; conceiving his characters properly, and never over- stepping the modesty of nature. His powers we think are consid- erable, and his genius versatile. There is much refinement in hia manners when in comedy, and much dignity and force in his ap- pearance in higher characters, such as Tell. We have seen him in a great variety of parts, aud find it difficult to decide in which his success is greatest." * * -:•:- * " One we have yet to name — the star of her profession — it would be censurable not to hold up to the admiration of our readers, as she has often presented herself to her gratified audience. We mean Mrs. Smith. It is far from our intention to enter into any minute analysis of her acting — setting forth her peculiarities : A SEASON IN MILLEDGEVILLE. 95 lauding what is good and apologizing for what is otherwise, but shall speak of her merit iu the aggregate, reserving our more de- tailed and definite criticism for some future number. To say that she is a first-rate actress would be giving her nothing more than her due, but we should probably not be believed, because she had not been brought up at the Park or at Drury Lane. Stars we have seen of the first magnitude who have shone with unrivalled lustre upon both those boards, and cau say that they have afforded us no greater pleasure than we have derived from the perform- ances of Mrs. Smith. If it be at all true that the merit of an actress may be justly estimated by the effect which she produces, her claims will be found inferior to few. For we have never yet heard the first person declare himself disappointed or dis- satisfied — we have never seen one who did not admit that she always had a just conception of the part she played — that she entered deeply into the spirit and feelings of the character she represented, and that her look, gesture and attitude were always graceful, natural and appropriate ; and if these, added to other qualities which she possesses, a melodious voice and eloquent de- livery, do not constitute the perfection of the histrionic art, then we are at a loss to know what does. All these excellencies are universally conceded to her. In what character she succeeds best we could never decide for ourselves ; she seems to be qualified by her versatility equally for the grave and the gay — ' for farce, comedy and tragedy.' We saw her once, on a benefit night, in the 'Soldier's Daughter,' and concluded she appeared best in that part ; but when she subsequently appeared in the ' Orphan of Geneva,' we thought no character became her as ' Therese,' and now our present decision is that her greatest efforts have been in "While I am about it, it may be as well to give the General's opinion of myself — particularly as I think it is a tolerably correct one in the main. Here it is, segregated from the same article the foregoing extracts are taken from : " Now then for ' Old Sol.' But before entering upon the trial of this ' head and front' of the battalion, it may be proper to settle a preliminary question upon which his acquittal or condem- 96 THEATRICAL JOURNEY-WORK. nation chiefly rests. The heart will sometimes laugh in defiance of the sober decrees of the head ; and when this is the case, which is in the right ? Who has not had his risibility irresistibly ex- cited by a joke, which his judgment could not sanction ? Shall the joke therefore be condemned? ' That is the question.' We answer, no. Now this is exactly ' Old Sol.'s situation. His acting we cannot approve as beng always in good taste, yet he will extort the laugh from us in despite of our disapprobation. Shall we therefore con- demn him ? We answer, no. Our objection to him as an actor is, that he often lowers comedy to a farce, and brings farce to the borders of buifoonery. The approbation which we have to bestow, is that which we have just admitted ; his absolute dominion over our risible propensities. He never fails to accomplish the end and aim of all comic performance, that of exciting involuntary laugh- ter and applause. This however is not his only merit. He pos- sesses a lively fancy and a good fund of original wit, which enable him to introduce many seasonable jokes, acceptable to all, and offensive to none. This practice it is true, is liable to abuse, and stands reprobated by authority no less than Shakspeare, but with all due deference to the bard of Avon, we must still adhere to our infallible rule, to censure nothing and praise all that produces a happy effect; by virtue of which 'Old Sol.' is entitled to our high commendation and a full absolution for all faults, which we do hereby freely award him." On the 12th December, the tragedy of " Douglass" was performed, it being the last appearance of my brother, who personated the character of Glen- alvon. tUV^ViLA —I This brings my narrative up nearly to the close of the year 1832 — a year rendered ever memorable to the writer by the untimely death of bis beloved brother Lemuel ; that brother who had participated in so many of the scenes heretofore described, and who, in the very prime of his manhood, was called upon, without a moment's warning, to pay that great last debt to Nature, which all who yet live, — owe! It might naturally be expected that an event so deeply engraven upon the heart and memory of a sorrowing brother, should receive from him more than this passing notice ; but as that would necessarily tend, by painfully exciting the sympathies of his readers, to destroy the principal object he has in view in writing these pages, viz. : the amusement of those who are pleased to accom- pany him in his wanderings, he passes on to other, and, to his readers, doubtless more agreeable topics. (97) CHAPTER XVII. MANAGER BROWN. Profits of six months business— Purchase of Real Estate— To Ala- bama again— A year's profits— Close of season and disbandment of company — Palmer and Lyons undertake management — Man- ager Brown as an actor — Grand entree in a comedy — New busi- ness for Capt. Procles— The infernal fiends below. The season in Milledgeville was brought to a close on the 23d of December — the legislature adjourning about the same time. The actual profits of the six months preceding this date, are set down in a busi- ness memorandum I kept at the time, at $1500, which sum, considering the labor performed, the jour- neys made, and wear and tear of the constitution, cannot be considered over payment for the services of my wife and myself. Macon was again tried, on our way to Alabama, where we received for 24 nights' performances, in a cold theatre, $1580, being an average of about $66 per night — and this was considered good business. Passing on towards Montgomery, our next stopping place was Columbus, where we acted two weeks, to an average nightly receipt of $56, closing on the 9th of February, 1833. I purchased in Columbus some real estate at a cost of about $2000, which raised on my hands, and was eventually sold for nearly 900 per cent, profit. On Saturday, 16th February, our standard was raised in Montgomery, Alabama, to a house of $140 (98) MANAGER BROWN. 99 The people appeared well pleased at our return. Business continued good here, and several " stars " (so called) shone forth during the season — Mrs. Knight and Mr. Forbes among the rest. My theatri- cal year ended on the 22d March. I subjoin a statement of the actual result of this year's "journey-work," in dollars and cents, as it ap- pears in my cash-book of that day : We must have travelled at least 5000 miles during the year. All traveling expenses were paid by the management. Total receipts— 46 weeks— $20,885. Average per week, $454 — per night, counting the actual number of nights played, to wit : 262 nights, $79,70. Profits of the year, about $4000. Mr. and Mrs. Lyons joined me at this time, and the season was prolonged a week, after which the theatre closed, with my benefit, which was very largely attended. At the conclusion of this season, I resolved to gratify a desire, long entertained, of visiting Cincin- nati, the home of my brothers and numerous other relations. The company being disbanded, Messrs. Palmer and Lyons, members of the late organization, proposed to rent the Georgia theatres, and I con- sented to give them the use of my wardrobe and pro- perties, with the understanding that if they were suc- cessful in their speculation, they should have the privilege of purchasing my interest in the circuit at a given price; but if unsuccessful, they should return the properties in the ensuing fall. The result of this attempt of Messrs P. and L. will appear hereafter. Leaving the new managers to push their fortunes 100 THEATRICAL JOURNEY-WORK. in the south, I made my way, with my family, towards Cincinnati, where we proposed to spend the summer ; not, however, until Mrs. S. and myself had performed a short starring engagement in Mobile, under the management of Mr. Purdy Brown. I could relate hundreds of anecdotes relative to manager Brown, but do not feel much disposed that way. A few lines must comprise all I have to say about him. Mr. Brown's knowledge of theatrical matters was extremely limited ; consequently, he was liable to be constantly imposed upon by the actors, who, as a class, are never backward in furthering a joke. Mr. B. appeared on the stage occasionally, and when he did it was generally his wish to enact some important character — some person of rank in the drama — it being very much against the grain to appear as a supernumerary. Reading plays not being much in his way, he was in the habit of asking the actors what characters they thought would best suit him, and he was generally advised to study such parts as Count Luneda in the " Broken Sword ;" Timoleon in the "Grecian Daughter ;" Beverly's Uncle, in the " Game- ster," and others of that sort. When, after a dili- gent search, poor Brown informed his friend, the actor who had advised him, that no such character could be found in the flay, he was gravely informed that he had been searching in the wrong edition ! Manager B. had an abiding faith in horses — indeed he had good reason for his faith — they never deceived him or played practical jokes upon him. Whenever he percieved that a play — be it tragedy, comedy or melo-drama — appeared to " drag ;" or to speak more intelligibly, to " hang fire ;" or, to make the expression ANAGER BROWN. 101 still more easily understood by the general reader, " go off dull," — he ordered out his -whole stud of horses and circus riders, and sent them on " to end tho piece." Thus it is said, (I confess I did not see this,) that on the occasion of the performance of the " Sol- dier's Daughter," he sent on his circus troupe, dressed as Turks or Arabs, who performed a "grand entree" on the stage, driving the Widow Cheerly, Governor Heartall and company down to the footlights, where they were obliged to stand for a mortal half hour and witness the cavalry evolutions, the whole winding up with a grand tableau, illuminated by red fire ! Mr. B., on one occasion, was compelled to assist in the performance of " Damon and Pythias — the company being short in numbers — and finding tho character which he chose (Dyonisius — King Dyoni- sius,) too long for his study, which was none of the best, he was prevailed on to take that of Process, which he was told was a sort of Captain in the Syra- cusan service. He proposed to act the part on horse- back ; but Webb, who was the Damon, dissuaded him from this, and the worthy manager consented to do it on foot. Some wag, to whom he applied for advice as to the manner of acting the part, told him that Procles was a fierce and spirited warrior, and when he was spoken to by Damon in the streets of Syra- cuse, and branded as a traitor, he should seize the Senator by the throat. At the proper time, placing himself at the head of the supernumerary soldiers, " high heaped with arms and plunder," he rushed upon the stage, with his shouting soldiers. When Webb, as Damon, came to these words: 9 102 THEATRICAL JOURNEY-WORK. " And thou, Who standest foremost of these knaves, Stand back and answer me — what have ye done?" Captain Procles looked daggers at him, but re- strained himself so far as to wait for his " cue," which receiving at length in these words : " Thou most contemptible and meanest tool That ever tyrant used," he rushed upon Damon like a tiger, seizing him by the throat, and holding his neck between his hands as in a vice. Webb struggled and swore — in vain ! " Let me loose ! you are strangling me !" exclaimed the infuriated Damon, in a hoarse whisper, " Of course I am," answered Procles — "it is the business of the part !" And it was not until Pythias interfered in his behalf, that he could be persuaded to loosen his hold. On the last night of our engagement I enacted Scaramouch, in the pantomime of " Don Juan." In the last scene, the amorous Don is seized by demons and cast into the infernal regions, as the bills have it, through a trap door. At rehearsal, I told the man- ager that about twelve demons would be required at the wings to seize Don Juan, and cast him down the trap. "And," (I added in a joke,) "you must be ready under the stage, at the head of a troupe of devils with pitchforks, to torment him until his nu- merous sins are burnt and purged away, as Shak- speare says." As I was leaving the theatre, the manager followed me to the back door, and asked me to repeat some direction I had given relative to the MANAGER BROWN. 103 banquet in the pantomine. He afterwards said some- thing which induced me to think he wished to carry on the joke about the demons I had spoken of, to be stationed under the stage. "How many demons did you say, Mr. Smith?" he asked. " A dozen will do," I replied, laughing. " Yes, a dozen on the stage, I know, but how many of those tormenting fellows underneath ?" " Oh," I answered, " as many as you like ; the more the better ; and be sure you have plenty of red fire." "Never fear that," he replied as he turned to go away. Scaramouch is not a very easy character to perform, particularly when attempted by one like myself, un- used to gymnastic feats ; so that when I had gone through the dancing, the shipwreck, the riding on a dolphin, the eating of maccaroni, the frights at seeing the ghost on horseback, and other little incidental exercises, and had bid good-bye to my master, the Don, in the graveyard, it may be supposed that I lost no time, " distilled with fear" and perspiration, as I was, in hastening to my dressing-room, with the view of disrobing as quickly as circumstances would permit. I had in part accomplished this, and was busily en- gaged in rubbing the upper part of my perspiring body with a coarse towel, when the call boy knocked violently at the door, and begged mc to step down to the stage, as the manager wished to see me particu- larly. Throwing a cloak about me, I hastened to the late scene of action, nearly suffocated with the smoke from the red fire, which was ascending in think volumes, 104 THEATRICAL JOURNEY-WORK. and found on looking down the trap that my friend Brown was there with thirty or forty fiends, all dressed in red flannel, and armed with pitchforks, waiting for the descent of Don Juan I It seems that in the concluding scene of the pantomine, the per- former who enacted the part of Don Juan, (Mr. Heyl,) finding a thick column of " sulphurous and tor- menting flames," ascending through the trap door, would not consent to be " plunged in," as required by the stage direction ; but on the contrary had burst from the supernumerary fiends and escaped to Ins dressing room. The curtain was lowered, and the piece was considered ended, by all but the worthy manager, who was in the regions below, with his army of fiends, waiting for his victim. It was some time before he could be persuaded to abandon his post, and not until he had declared his determination to dis- charge the contumacious actor who had refused to take the " fatal plunge." Mr. Edwin Forrest passed through Mobile while we were there, on his way to New Orleans. Ten years had elapsed since we had parted in Lexington, Ky., he to join Mr. Caldwell at the south — I to commence my managerial career in Cincinnati. We were succeeded by Mr. James Wallack — the Wallack — the very best Iago I ever saw — I cannot pay him a higher compliment. I witnessed his per- formance of Rolla and Dick Dashall, considered by the public as his best characters. Ah ! what an actor he was — and is ! To see bis personation of Don Caesar de Bazan is worth a pilgrimage to New York. CHAPTER XVIII. THE CHOLERA IN 1833. New Orleans— The Gladiator— Cinderella— Journey up the Missis- sippi—Cholera and the game of brag— The little Frenchman— A Negro lost and won at Faro. On board the steamer "Ohio," Capt. Haggerty, I embarked with my family at Mobile, on the 11th of May, 1833, bound for Cincinnati, by way of the Gulf of Mexico and Mississippi river. Arrived at New Orleans the next day without accident. We remained in New Orleans two days and nights, and had the opportunity, which we improved of course, of witnessing the performance of the " Gladi- ator," (for Forrest's benefit) and " Cinderella," on the first appearance of Madame Brichta. Mr. J. M. Field, a young actor of considerable promise, enacted Phasarius, the secondary part in the " Gladiator," and the next night appeared as the Prince in " Cinderella." The production of " Cinderella" at New Orleans formed an era in theatrical annals. Though a hodge- podge, (made up of Rossini's original work of the same name, and other productions of that composer, " William Tell" being largely drawn upon,) it was the first attempt at the Grand Opera in the English language at the south. All previous attempts hud been confined to what is termed the comic opera — the "Barber of Seville," (an English adaptation,) " Marriage of Figarro," " Love in a Village," " Devil's Bridge," &c. The cast of " Cinderella," as 9* (105) 106 THEATRICAL JOURNEY-WORK. originally produced in New Orleans this season, was as follows : Prince, ... Mr. Field. Dandini, - Mr. Caldwell. Baron Pompolino, - - Mr. Thome. Alidoro, ... Mr. Iforgethisname. Pedro, - Mr. Russell. Cinderella, - Miss Jane Placide. Clorinda, ... Mrs. Russell. Thisbe, ... Mrs. Rowe. Fairy Queen, - - - Miss Nelson. Thus cast, and with the advantage of beautiful scenery and appoinments, its success was very great. This year Mr. Caldwell sold out his managerial interests to Messrs. Russell and Rowe, and turned his attention exclusively to his gas speculation. While in New Orleans I found out my quondam friend N. M. Ludlow, who was keeping a clothing store, and doing tolerably well. This was a new "line of business" to him, and he soon dropped it. On the 16th, we re-embarked on the " Ohio," and oft' we steered for Cincinnati. It is not my purpose to attempt a description of the scenes witnessed on this boat — the Cholera raging ! Nevertheless I Avill briefly notice a few incidents. After supper, the second day out, I counted eight card tables, sur- rounded by persons playing the game of " brag !" At the same time persons were scattered around the floor, and in the state-rooms, groaning, complaining, beseeching for assistance — dying with the cholera ! In one instance I saw a man fall from his chair in a fit, clenching his cards in his hands, and die in a few minutes ! Another fell back on the floor from the CHOLERA IN 1833. 107 card table, was taken up senseless, and carried to his state-room, where he lingered until the next day, and then died, having in the interim made his will, dispos« ing of a very large property in Virginia. This last one I became slightly acquainted with, and ren- dered him all the assistance I could. Just before he died we put him into a warm bath, which seemed to relieve him very much. When we laid him on hia mattrass, he looked up in my face and asked — " What is your real opinion, Mr. Smith ? Will I get over this ?" I answered, "upon my word, I think you will — you are evidently much better." This was my most candid opinion. "I am glad — I am glad to hear you say so," he responded faintly, looking up into my face with a smile ; and with that smile on his face he almost in- stantly ceased breathing ! In nearly every voyage I make — especially if there be sickness among the passengers — I get the name of Doctor, probably from the fact that I am always willing to lend a hand to assist the sick. It was so in this case. Capt. Haggerty, the clerk, and myself, seemed to be the only persons on board who knew anything about the medicine chest, and the quantities proper for a dose of the various articles therein contained. A little Frenchman, as healthy a man as there waa on board of the boat, took it into his head that he was attacked by cholera, and sent for me to attend to his case. " Oh, Docteur — Monsieur Docteur !" he exclaimed, " I am vaire sick — much malade ! My stomach vaire 108 THEATRICAL JOURNEY-WORK. much ache ! Do sometings for ine, Docteur, do some- tings very much quick, for I sal die — oh !" I found his pulse regular, and became convinced he was in excellent health. I told him so, and for a time he appeared reassured ; but presently he sent for me again, and begged me in the most piteous tones to do " sometings " for him. Satisfied that nothing ailed the man but fright, I went to the medicine chest and made him up a pill of gum arabic, which I requested him to swallow, assuring him that he would soon be better. For about two hours this seemed to quiet my little Frenchman, and I was at liberty to attend to other cases. When next called to Monsieur, he said he felt a little better, but " weak from the operation of de medicin."' " The pill has operated, then ?" I remarked. " Oui, oui — operate very much — make me sleep — ah ha! Un opiate, ha?" I let him think it was an opiate, and telling him to keep quiet during the night, left him. The following morning my patient seemed much better, and partook of a hearty breakfast and a large portion of a bottle of claret. Card playing continued during the day, and Monsieur took a hand, losing considerable money. He retired early, and I was in hopes he had entirely recovered from his fright, and that I should not be called on to attend him any more; but I was mis- taken. He was not at supper, and hearing a groan- ing in his state-roorn as I passed, I opened the door and looked in. There lay my little Frenchman, writhing with pain, and evidently experiencing the effects of the " premonitory symptoms," pretty strongly. » THE CHOLERA IN 1833. 109 " Ah, Monsieur Docteur," he said, as he saw me coming in — " I am vaire glad you come — I have got him now certianement — you must give me some leetle peel encore — I sal die if you don't give me sometings vaire quick !" Poor fellow ! he had the dreaded disease beyond a doubt — the symptoms were unmistakable. Feeling his pulse, and saying a few encouraging words, I left him to make up a dose a little more efficient than gum arahic — for I was convinced he had frightened himself into the cholera. While preparing the medi- cine, a crash was heard that seemed to shake the boat to its very centre ! At first all supposed an explosion had taken place. Confusion reigned for a few min- utes, the passengers rushing hither and thither in "wild disorder." My first care, of course, was for my wife and children — the latter being at the time eating their supper at the second table. The crash was caused by the breaking of the fly wheel, the fragments of which were thrown with great force through the cabin floor and hurricane roof, scattering the dishes on the sup- per table, as well as pieces of the table itself in every direction. It providentially happened that no one was hurt. My boys I found seated on the brink of the chasm where the table had been. The oldest boy, then five years of age, was holding an empty saucer in his hand ; and when he saw me he exclaimed — "Pa, look here — they've spilt all my coffee !" But to return to my patient, I found him busily en- gaged dressing himself. "By gar, Monsieur Docteur," said he — "I sal not stay on dis boat any longer; such y, but it was in small flaky frag- ments ; and the humbugged Virginians began to look about for the operator — but in vain ! With $000 in his pockets he was wending his way toward some city where gas could be more easily generated. In giving an account of this affair, our venerable friend says — " Dab the idferdal ballood ! I foudd there was do use id tryidg to bake it rise ; so, as I dislike bakidg apolo- gies, I thought I would bake byself scarce: Whed I got od that hill add looked back, the boys had set fire to the ballood, add such a sboke rose up ! — the whole village appeared to be od fire — d — d if it didd't look like a youdg JN.xlob add Goborrow !" When Mr. Edwin Forrest began to rise in his pro- fession, Allen determined to rise with him, and at- tached himself to that tragedian as costumer, in which 228 ANECDOTICAL RECOLLECTIONS. capacity, and that of a fighting gladiator, he traversed this country and Great Britain, always taking to himself a full share of credit for "the boy's" success; "for," said he, "what would be the use of taledt without the proper costube ?" I am not informed of the ca^use of separation, but certain it is the great tragedian has managed to "get on" without the aid of the father of the American Stage, for several years past. Thrown on his own resources, we find he is still true to himself and his country, as will more fully appear by the following proclamation, which I find in a late New York Mirror, and which I append as a proper winding up to this somewhat lengthy no- tice of a truly great man, (in his way,) and with the hope that the Father of the American Stage may reap some benefit from its widely extended cir- culation : |^» HUMBUGS AVAUNT ! ! ! -@g 1 am not dead yet: ingratitude has not killed me — thanks to a clear conscience and a pair of silver leather breeches. All I want is work, that I may thrive by my industry, pay my debts, and die, as I always have lived, an honest man. The subscriber has resumed his old vocation of costumer, fancy dress maker, and manufacturer of his unapproachable gilt and silver leather, (for which he received letters patent in 1817, and which he has since improved 100 per cent.) It can be applied to the follow- ing uses : theatrical and equestrian dresses and trappings, ladies' ball slippers, albums, portfolios, pocket books, hat leathers, coach trimmings, iu short every variety of fancy and ornamental work, 25 per cent, less than it can be obtained anywhere else, and 100 per cent, bet- ter. Warranted to last for years. Masonic and /. O. of 0. F. Regalia made to order. Tlieatrical and equestrian managers are invited to call and judge for themselves. A. J. A. is a classical and legitimate costumer, and has followed the art fur over 10 years, both in his native country, {our COURT OF UNCOMMON PLEAS. 229 beloved America,') and in Europe, and he challenges competition. Mr. A. makes helmets, masks, aud all kinds of paper 7nachee work, and stage properties of every description from a penny whistle to a Bas- ket Elephant. All orders thankfully received, and faithfully executed, by the public's humble and obedient servant, Andrew Jackson Allen, No. 1, Mulberry street, (1st floor,) Opposite the Chatham Theatre. Gentlemen and children's clothes made in the most substantial and fashionable style — gentlemen finding their own cloth. P. S. — For 16 years Mr. A. made all E. Forrest's theatrical wardrobe.* COURT OF UNCOMMON PLEAS. Temperance ^ indictment for whiskey drinking James" Green I out uf a ™' If the reader has travelled much in the West, he has witnessed the proceedings of self-constituted courts on the boiler decks of steam boats. It has been the luck of the writer of this sketch to act as Judge of many of these dignified tribunals — conse- quently he has been called on to pass judgment on many of his fellow-travelers during the last twenty or thirty years. In the courts here spoken of the jurisdiction is generally co-extensive with the boats on which they » As I send these sheets off to the publisher, I learn that the subject of the foregoing sketch has been " called" to another world. Peace be with him ! He was the first recipient of assistance from the American Dramatic Fund, but only lived to receive the first quarter of the annuity to which he was entitled. 230 AXECDOTICAL RECOLLECTIONS. are held, and it is very seldom an individual is found who is fool-hardy enough to call in question their powers — hence the sentences are pretty generally carried into effect without resistance. In the summer of 1844, when all was " hurrah for Clay," and " hurrah for Polk," a term of the Court of Uncommon Pleas was " begun and held " on board the good steamer White Cloud, Capt. Robards, during her voyage from St. Louis to Louisville. After the organization of the court by the appoint- ment of Judge, Prosecuting Attorney, Clerk and Sheriff, proclamation was made by the latter function- ary that all was ready for business. The first case on the docket was the one stated at the head of this report. The defendant, Green, a deck passenger, had been delivering a temperance lecture in the cabin, and was retiring to his quarters on the lower deck, •when he was arrested by the sheriff and brought be- fore the "Honorable Court." I never saw a "priso- ner at the bar," charged with murder, manifest more fear than did this poor fellow — the reason will appear hereafter. The indictment was read, charging him, the said Green, being at the time a member of a temperance society, with having, " with malice and aforethought," drank whiskey out of a jug — contrary to the dignity of the temperance cause, and the inter- est of the bar-keeper of the White Cloud, &c, &c. " Prisoner, you have heard the charge — are you guilty, or not guilty ?" " Not guilty," replied the trembling Green — " that is, not very guilty ; I did take a little bit of " " Prisoner, answer distinctly to the charge — are you guilty, or not guilty?" COURT OF UNCOMMON PLEAS. 231 " Is there any lawyer aboard ?" asked the defend- ant, looking fearfully at the crowd. "Yes," replied the Court — "there are any number of them on board, going to the Whig Convention at Nashville ; you are entitled to counsel, and the Court assigns you L. V. B , Esq., — so you can unbosom yourself to him." The worthy gentleman named readily accepted the appointment, and a jury being empanelled, the trial commenced. The prosecuting attorney, (who was no other than my friend Col. A. B. C rs, the well known apostle of temperance,) made a splendid "opening." He in- sisted that intemperance was the unpardonable sin, and demanded that the jury, if convinced of the guilt of the accused, should inflict the severest punishment known to the law. The evidence all went to show that the accused had certainly committed the damning deed — he had most surely drank whiskey — more than that, he had drunk it out of a jug ! There was no getting round it, or over it, or under it — drunk lie had — he had drunk whiskey — and out — of — a j-u-g ! The counsel for the prisoner, finding the fact could not be controverted, endeavored to justify ; and went into a lengthy argument to show that the greatest men in ancient and modern times had been and were drunkards; that the greatest literary efforts had been inspired by the wine bottle ; and so far from the defendant being blamable for what he had done, he, the learned counsel, contended that he was deserving of the highest commendation. A reply from the prosecuting attorney closed the 232 ANECDOTICAL RECOLLECTIONS. case, and the jury were about to retire to the pantry to deliberate on their verdict, when the defendant ad- dressed the Court : " May it please your honor, I want to say a few words, if you've no objections." " By all means — you shall be heard. The defend- ant has a right to be heard by himself and counsel ; proceed." Green, trembling from head to foot, mounted a chair, (on the intimation of the sheriff,) and spoke as follows : "Mister Judge, and gentlemen of the jury, I want to say this much — I am guilty ; I don't justify the drinking of the whiskey, I don't. I tried to persuade ray attorney not to make that sort of defence, but he would do it. I drank a leetle whisky — but i" took it for medicine, as I have proved to you by the doctor who prescribed it. I know I've done wrong — very wrong, and I deserve punishment ; but I beg and pray this Honorable Court to have pity on my wife and " " Hast thou a wife ?" interrupted the Court. "I have," replied the defendant. "And children ?" " No ; no children yet, may it please the honorable Court, but my wife is in a fix." "A fix?" "Yes; a fix." " Prisoner, what do you mean by your wife being in a fix?" " Why your honor," proceeded the accused, " she will shortly become the mother of a fatherless orphan, if you throw me overboard." KICKING THE BUCKET. 233 " Throw you overboard ! What has put that into your head, prisoner ?" " Oh !" groaned Green in agony, " I know the pun- ishment of my crime ; my counsel has told me all about it. I'm to be thrown overboard, to prevent my ever again drinking anything but cold water!" Finding the poor fellow took the matter so seri- ously, there was a general desire for his acquittal. The judge gave a charge to the jury, full of nice points of law and leaning greatly towards the prisoner. Without leaving their seats, the jury returned the following verdict : " We, the jury, find the defendant not guilty, and recommend him to mercy. The sheriff to treat the jury — the attornies to pay costs, and the judge to fill the jug which the defendant drank out of, and which the jury have emptied during the trial." The defendant, when he heard the verdict read, fell down on his knees in thankfulness— renewed his tem- perance pledge— thanked the judge and gentlemen of the jury,- and in his wife's name called down bless- sings on the whole crowd. KICKING THE BUCKET. Pulse 140 !— Whicw !— Whurr ! Reader did you ever have a fever ? — a regular built, up-and-down thumping fever?— a fever that carried you up, as it were, to another existence ? I had such a fever in the fall of 1844— September— in Cincinnati. 20 234 ANECDOTICAL RECOLLECTIONS. I tried to put it off. It wouldn't go. I went to Lou- isville in a steamboat, and endeavoured to persuade myself during the night, while my pulse was rising and my brain was becoming more and more pressed, that 1 should be better in the morning. I endeavoured to transact business in Louisville, but my questions and replies were so incoherent that the people stared at me and (for aught I know) thought I was tipsy. On the return trip, all was pleasant enough in the afternoon, but at night, and during the long night, thump, thump, thump, went my blood again, as though it was deter- mined to burst through and be free. I found myself at my brother's house on Fourth street, where a room is always reserved for me. I had purchased some calomel and castor oil, on my way up from the boat, and I went to taking medicine. It did no good — the fever did not diminish at all. At the request of my good brother a homoeopathic physician was called in, who attended me, and administered small globules of something or other for a week — two weeks, perhaps — probably three — " I took no note of time." No change. My brothers and other relations visited me frequently. I could see by their manner they thought I must go. They did not shake their heads, but the expression of their countenances did not at all conform to their words of comfort and encouragement. My sense of hearing was fearfully acute. I could hear them look! It was plain enough I was given up — the doctor (Dutch at that !) said he had been called too late ; if he had only been called in before I had taken the calomel, all would have been well, but With the exception of a head-ache, which hung to me, it was not a disagreeable month I passed thus. KICKING THE BUCKET. 235 The pressure on my brain caused those about me to take the most fanciful forms, and to do the drollest things ! The doctor appeared to dance into the room, pour his useless (and harmless) medicine into water, and present me the tumbler, dancing all the while ; my sisters, my brothers, nieces and nephews, all to appearance about half their real height, danced about the apartment in the most picturesque forms, all bear- ing a striking resemblance to each other, and all wear- ing wreaths — rocking, prancing, bending, smiling, and attitudinizing to the tune of — my pulse. It was very pleasant indeed. I remember every occurrence while under the in- fluence of this fever, with the utmost distinctness. About the 18th day I called the homoeopathic doctor to my bedside and told him I had no further occasion for his services. He remonstrated — the family re- monstrated; but I was firm — I would take no more of those little globules. My friend Logan came to see me every day. When he found the homoeopathist had retired, he urged the calling in of one of the regular physicians. After some argument I consented, and Doctor Shotwell took me in hand. I could see plainly enough he thought the call had been put off too long ; but he prescribed for me, and in one week I was able to sit up an hour at a time — in two weeks I could walk, and in less than three I embarked for St. Louis — my home. When I began to write this article I intended to de- scribe some of my singular fancies — but I shall con- fine myself to one strange fancy I took into my fever- ish head. It seemed to me that possibly my friends might be 236 ANECDOTICAL RECOLLECTIONS. right, and that I was doomed to kick the bucket sure enough. I was away from home — my affairs were un- settled — no preparations made for such a feat — but yet, I thought my time had possibly come ! The idea was not at all unpleasant. I had shaken off all care of business, having placed it in competent hands, and my only uneasiness arose from the trouble I was giving my kind nurses. I took up the idea that, if I must kick the bucket, I might as well do it in the middle of the night, when most of the family were asleep, so that in the morning they would find all was over with me, and the disagreeable part of the business would be past. I kept thinking of this, and constantly con- tinued to contrive out ways and means to effect my designs without causing trouble to the family. I knew that if I asked for a bucket to kick, they would refuse to let me have it ; so I pretended every night that I wanted water to bathe my feet in, and when I had finished bathing them I always asked the girl to leave the bucket on a chair beside my bed ! And there I lay night after night, waiting for the time to come when I should kick the bucket without troubling any one ! In the middle of the night I would laugh heartily at my cunning contrivance — keeping the bucket all the time within kicking distance of my right foot, and chuckling at the idea of what a splash I would make when I should give my last kick! DEFENCE OF THE STAGE. A FRIENDLY LETTER TO THE REV. DR. BEECHER, OF CINCINNATI, OHIO. Boston, Sunday Evening, Aug. 13, 1843. Sir — The newspapers have given the substance of a discourse delivered by you at the Tremont Theatre, soon after that building came into the possession of its present proprietors. When that discourse was delivered, I was in St. Louis, nearly one thousand miles from Boston. Business has brought me here, and I take leave to address you a few lines on the subject of your address, conceiving there are some parts of it, if correctly reported, somewhat excep- tionable — at least, likely to be so considered by mem- bers of the theatrical profession. I make no apology for addressing you through the columns of the press. We are personally unac- quainted with each other ; and to be plain with you — for "bluntness is my trade" — I am not very desirous of an introduction. You are a preacher of the Gos- pel — /am nothing but an actor — and a poor one, at that, in every sense of the word ; — You are in posses- sion of a princely income, as payment for advocating the cause of the meek and lowly Jesus — / am strug- gling for a precarious subsistence in my capacity of a 20* (237) 238 DEFENCE OF THE STAGE. stage-player — occasionally adding a little to my in- come by appearing " in the character" of a lawyer in our courts of justice. I may add that you stand at the head of a powerful sect of professing Christians in the United States, while I am content to claim membership in the lowest rank of artists called his- trions. I presume if I were to seek a conversation with you at your splendid mansion, I should be spurned from your door, as unworthy to press your carpet with my unhallowed feet — the name of " Sol. Smith, the actor," announced in your study, would probably be the signal for bolting your door — indeed, if the report of your discourse at the Tremont be a true one — and I have no reason to doubt that it is — you must entertain a "lodged hate" — a "certain loathing," for all poor sinners of our class. There- fore it is that I do not seek a personal interview, but say what I have to say, thus publicly. You are represented to have made your "first ap- pearance on the Tremont boards" before a "house crowded from pit to gallery;" and it is said you "re- turned thanks to Almighty God for having changed the place, which was once the seat of Satan and his works, into Christ's Holy Temple ;" and prayed that "all theatres might soon become temples of God; and that Satan, their great head, might immediately be driven back to his appropriate home, the bottom- less pit." You are said to have dwelt particularly upon the "bad character of actors and actresses," and to have asserted of theatres that " there was no redeeming quality about them — they were evil, and that continually — they were the fruitful source of all vice — [all !] — the great social exchange where sinners 239 LETTER TO DR. BEECHER. of all grades, colors, and description, assembled to barter away and sell their immortal souls." Now, Mr. Beecher, read over the above quotations, while quietly sitting in your closet, and how do they look in print ? Do not your denunciations strike you as being rather on the wholesale order ? How dif- ferent — how widely different — was the language of your master and mine, while tabernacling upon the earth ! Without the slightest attempt at proof to support your assertions, you throw out an accusation against the whole community of actors. You stand up in the pulpit, (late the social exchange of sinners,) and before three thousand people, drawn together by your great fame as a speaker, and by curiosity to witness the cleansing of the Augean stable, by the river of your eloquence, and point at a large class of your fellow citizens, branding the whole of them as bad characters ! Without particularizing their crimes — without affording them an opportunity of defence, you consign thousands of your fellow mortals to infamy — or in other words, send them to the Devil! You must not be surprised, then, doctor, if the com- munity you have so unsparingly denounced and slan- dered — yes, slandered ! — do not sit calmly down under the imputations cast upon them. A worm, when trodden upon, will turn upon a giant. In the name of my professional brothers and sisters, I deny that, as a class, they are obnoxious to the charges you have brought against them. I deny that the theatre is an exchange where sinners barter away their souls — and I am willing to take the late Tre- mont Theatre, with all its faults, as a specimen of all theatres in the United States — and I pronounce your 240 DEFENCE OF THE STAGE. attempt to fix upon all actors and actresses the title of "bad characters," uncharitable, unfair, and un- manly. To deny that the institution of the theatre is sometimes abused, and its objects perverted, or that some members of our profession are faulty, would be to deny that managers, actors, and actresses are human beings. But let the professors of the stage be compared with those of any other calling — nay, let them be compared, (and I invite the comparison,) with the occupants of the pulpit — let the moral cha- racter of each class be set side by side before the. world, and the result need not be feared by the much abused histrions. If we thought proper to " carry the war into Africa," we might retort upon the pulpit, and point out instances, (and not a few, either,) where all the wholesome restraints of society have been broken through, and trampled under foot by preachers of eminence — where the sanctity of the domestic circle has been invaded — the obligations of the marriage vow have been broken — confidence has been betrayed, and fathers and husbands have been compelled to seek redress in courts of justice for injuries inflicted on their daughters and their wives, by hypocrites who use religion as a cloak to hide their hellish pro- pensities. One would suppose, doctor, to hear you, and such as you, speak of actors and actresses, that in your profession tliere is no acting — that, from the holy horror with which you pour forth your denun- ciations against the poor players, you would shrink from employing any of the arts you condemn so un- sparingly in the actor. I assert that many of you make a trade of religion. To say nothing of the LETTER TO DR. BEECHER. 241 attempt that was made to raise money by exhibiting the Tremont Theatre as ifc stood when the wicked actors left it — in all its glare of splendid scenery, rich decoration, and gas lights — you every week cun- ningly contrive out ways and means to gull the public and obtain money from sinners as well as saints — that at your meetings you resort to all manner of tricks to obtain contributions for pretended charities, and for the support of missions to distant countries, with the professed object of saving heathen souls, while your next-door neighbor is perishing for bread; that, contrary to the command of our Saviour, who directed that we should receive the gospel " without money and without price," you take care to confine your labors to such congregations as will pay you a price — and a very good price, too — that you " accept of engagements," like the actors, where the highest salaries are given — that the louder the call, the more likely you are to hear it — and that instead of treating your fellow sinners kindly, and drawing them by affectionate remonstrances from what you consider their evil ways, you denounce them in a lot, and, so far as in you lies, shut the door of grace upon them ! It would appear to me, reverend sir, that on the occasion of taking formal possession of the Tremont Theatre — the late "seat of Satan and his works," since you will have it so — a temperate and forbearing tone would have been more becoming your character and situation. Considering that you had succeeded in turning old Satan and about one hundred sinners out of doors — the sinners to starve, perhaps, and Satan to look out for other quarters — the air of triumph you assumed, and the sentences of condemna- 242 DEFENCE OF THE STAGE. tion you uttered, were unworthy of you. You had hurled the Muses, neck and heels, from the premises — ■ you had deprived their humble followers of the means of earning their bread — was that a time to indulge in scoffs and maledictions ? Was that the way to purify the unholy spot ? How is it, that our Lord Jesus Christ— for he is my Lord as well as yours — did not say a word against theatres when on earth ? I do not find a sentence of his recorded which implies that there is any sin in social amusements; on the contrary, the Bible is full of injunctions to cultivate a cheerful disposition. I need only to refer to the fact of David's dancing before the Ark, to show that dancing is pleasing in the sight of God. Speaking of David — read his Psalms, and you will find in those incomparable poems, that rejoicing and clapping of hands — playing upon instruments, of all the kinds then invented — skipping, and making "joyful noises," formed most of the themes of the mighty poet. If I am not mis- taken, (I have not my Testament with me to refer to) one of the apostles took refuge in a theatre, which proved to him a safe sanctuary when pursued by a ruthless mob. Our Saviour dwelt among sinners — gently leading them into the paths of virtue. How different is the conduct of his pretended followers of the present day — how different from the course pur- sued by the apostles in the early ages of Christianity! Instead of " going forth into all the ends of the earth to preach the Gospel to all nations," without coin or scrip, your modern preachers must live upon the fat of the land, dwell in splendid mansions, be in receipt of stipulated salaries, and instead of spreading the LETTER TO DR. BEECHER. 243 blessed tidings of the Gospel to the inhabitants of heathen lands, they confine their teachings to their own favored flocks — unless some temple of Satan is to be purified — then, indeed, a reverend divine can travel hundreds of miles — not, as in pilgrim times, bareheaded and barefooted — but in steamers, railroad cars, and coaches, to fulfil a prophecy made by him- self before he wa3 "called" to the west! Then, instead of extending the hand of charity to the house- less individuals who have thought it no sin to " labor in their vocation," and if he thinks their calling sinful, telling them to " go and sin no more," he can brand a whole community with infamy — pro- nounce them ALL "bad characters" — andean "dine after that !" But stop — what am I about ? Let me not fall into the same error I am condemning in others. All preachers are not to be answerable for the faults of a portion of them. I have known some orthodox preachers (and I record it with pleasure) who were honest, charitable, and christianly. I only wished to show, that bad as actors are, or may be, as a class, they will lose nothing by a comparison with preachers. In all the practices of active benevolence, I religiously believe they rank far above them. I would suggest to } 7 ou, my fellow sinner, that if you really believe actors and actresses to be the " bad characters " you represented them to be in your ser- mon, it is your bounden duty to preach to them — point out to them the sinfulness of their calling — reason with them — draw them from their evil ways, if they are evil — and, by treating them kindly, convince them 244 DEFENCE OF THE STAGE. that you are indeed the minister of that blessed Re- deemer you profess to serve. If you and your congregations would attend the- atrical exhibitions — (for, depend upon it, Doctor, you cannot " put them down ") — applaud the good senti- ments, and express your disapprobation of everything calculated to produce an immoral effect upon the audience — in short, if you and they would co-operate with us, and endeavor to purge the stage of its im- purities, instead of endeavoring as you do to extermi- nate it, much good might be effected, and the drama might flourish as the adjunct of Christianity. I did intend to say something about Satan — for I do think you treat that imaginary being rather cava- lierly, taking into consideration the fact that he is al- ways at hand as a convenient scare-crow to " drive the stray lambs into the fold," and that you could not carry on your business a week without him, — but upon second thoughts, I have concluded to say nothing in his behalf. Send him back " to the bot- tomless pit," Doctor, as soon as you like — and a good riddance, I say. At some future period, I propose to discuss at some \ength the usefulness of the stage. At present I fear I have wearied your patience, with my desultory and disjointed strictures. I will conclude by recom- mending to your consideration the 7th chapter of Matthew, 1st to 5th, and 21st to 23d verses. Hoping you will receive this letter in as kind a spirit as that which dictates it, and advising you to cultivate Christian feelings, I remain, Dear Sir, your fellow laborer in the vineyard, Sol. Smith. KEPLY TO THE KEV. W. G. ELLIOT. 245 A REPLY TO THE REV. W. G. ELLIOT OF ST. LOUIS. Extract from a Lecture on Amusements. BY THE BEV. W. G. ELLIOT. "It is a fair objection to the theatre, that, as an amusement, it is too exciting — by far too much so for a beneficial influence on the young. It often unfits their minds for serious thoughts and labor. To older persons it may not be so hurtful ; but for the young man, I do not know of any habit, in itself not positively sinful, which is more injurious, or more fraught with serious danger, than that of theatre- going. It stimulates the imagination too strongly; it awakens dor- mant passions; it overtasks the sensibilities; and generally makes more quietand less exciting amusements seem flat and tasteless. It is, moreover, an expensive amusement, much beyond the proper means of most young men — and, unfortunately, it is surrounded with many incidental evils, which, although theoretically not inseparable from it, are always practically attendant upon it — as camp followers are an evil inseparable from the camp. 1 appeal to yourselves if it is not true, that the young man who becomes fond of the theatre is very likely to become immoral and dissipated. Believing that it is bo, I feel justified in advising you strongly against it. Select more quiet and less dangerous amusements. At least wait until you are well established in virtue, before you subject yourselves to such severe tests ; and when you "are thus established, the desire to set a good example to those whose principles are not yet equally con- firmed, may become a still stronger motive for staying away." At various times, during my professional life, I have felt called upon to make comments, through the press, upon the strictures of certain reverend gentle- men, who have thought proper to denounce the insti- tution of the theatre as demoralizing in its tendency. Among the so called "divines," (what a title for human beings !) to whom I have paid my respects, I may name Mr. Bulfard, of this city, and Mr. Beecher, 21 246 DEFENCE OP THE STAGE. of Cincinnati. These preachers of the gospel of Jesus Christ — one on the occasion of delivering a sermon on the death of President Harrison, and the other at a sort of holy triumphant celebration, held on the occasion of the conversion of the Tremont Theatre, (Boston,) into a church — took upon them- selves the offices of judges of their fellow-sinners, and, instead of obeying the command of the master they pretend to serve, which required his followers to go forth to all the world and preach good will to all MEN, passed sentence of unconditional condemna- tion, not only upon the professors of the stage, but upon all who encouraged its representations by their presence in the passive characters of auditors. It may be asked why I, out of the whole community of actors in this extensive country, should take upon myself the task of defending the theatre. I answer, because I feel it to be my duty, and because I do not perceive others, far more able to do justice to the cause, step forward, as it appears to me they should, to defend their profession, when assailed. Being a great admirer of the Rev. Mr. Elliot, whom I know to be a good man and an exemplary Christian, I confess I was not prepared to find him following so far in the wake of the orthodox gentlemen above named, as to advise his young hearers to discounte- nance an institution which has been advocated and up- held by a vast majority of the gi*eat and good men of all ages, and in all countries where civilization and refinement have prevailed to any extent. I thought we had one church at least, in St. Louis, whose pulpit was occupied by a man who, while he was strictly faithful to his trust, and watchful over the moral con- REPLY TO THE REV. W. G. ELLIOT. 247 duct of his parishioriers, would rise above the petty prejudices which unfortunately, to some extent, exist against the institution referred to ; and if he could not conscientiously assist in dissipating those preju- dices, that he would al least refrain from giving countenance to the war of extermination waged by interested and bigoted clergyman against the theatre, leaving his congregation to exercise their own judg- ments, and obey the dictates of their own consciences, (influenced, if you please, by his excellent general teachings,) on the subject of amusements. Before attempting to controvert the opinions of Mr. Elliot, as expressed above, it is with pleasure I award to that gentleman great sincerity and honesty of purpose in all his acts and words. His language, correctly quoted at the head of this article, it need not be said, is that of a gentleman, a scholar, and a Christian ; and its style is referred to only for the pur- pose of remarking upon the striking difference be- tween it and that of the language generally made use of by the orthodox "gentlemen in black" gowns, who have heretofore taken upon themselves the offices of censors of the stage, and, m consequence, claimed my attention. I will now state, concisely, Mr. Elliot's reasons for advising young people to stay away from the theatre : 1. The theatre, as an amusement, is too exciting, and, therefore, fraught with serious danger. 2. It is too expensive. 3. It is surrounded with many incidental evils, which are always practically attendant upon it, though not theoretically inseparable from it. 248 DEFENCE OF THE STAGE. 4. It leads young men to become immoral and dis- sipated. To be sure, all these are mere assertions ; but as they are made in sincerity, and doubtless in the full belief of their truth, let us examine them separately : It is said, that the theatre is "too exciting." Now, it appears to me that if the tendency of stage representations be for good, they cannot be " too exciting ;" but if for evil, then the gentleman is right. When the heart throbs with the feelings of patriotism and virtuous indignation against tyranny and oppres- sion ; when the eye of youth fills with tears of sorrow for suffering virtue ; when the cheek burns with indig- nation at successful villainy — all the effect of the poet's language and the actor's power — will it be said that these aroused feelings are to be suppressed, because they are " exciting ?" I say to you, friend Elliot, that so far from the amusement of the theatre being " too exciting" for the young, it would be better for the moral condition of the world, if the excellent senti- ments promulgated from the stage, could be more universally disseminated than they are. That the cold, formal teachings of the pulpit have their uses, is not denied ; but the practical lessons acted before the auditor at the theatre, from the very fact that they are more " exciting," are more lasting, and conse- quently more useful. I conclude, then, on this point, that a play cannot be "too exciting," if the moral be good, and the tendency of the sentiment ennobling to human nature. Let the pulpit, therefore, confine its censures and strictures to immoral stage representations, and REPLY TO THE REV. G. W. ELLIOT. 249 cherish those which tend to refine, ameliorate and improve society. The second objection to the theatre as an amusement — that it is too expensive — may be answered in a few words. Let there be a very general attendance, (allowing it to be deserving of support) and the prices of admission can be proportionately reduced. This has already been exemplified in our own theatre. Not- withstanding the anathemas occasionally launched forth from the pulpit, the attendance has so increased within late years that the admission fee has been reduced one-half! So it is not very "expensive,'' after all ; and if young men are moderate in their en- joyment of dramatic amusements — visiting the theatre only once or twice a week — it will not be very "hurt- ful" to them, I imagine, in a pecuniary point of view, (in which view I suppose this objection is made,) and they will have something left for pew rent, preacher's salary, and the missionary box too. Taking into view the quality of the various amusements, it appears to me there is none so cheap as that of the theatre. The charge that the theatre is " surrounded with incidental evils," I scarcely know how to meet, unless the evils are more particularly specified. In the absence of such specifications, I hope it will not be thought unfair to assume that the lecturer referred to those truly objectionable adjuncts to some theatres — the bar-room and the third tier. If I am right in this assumption, it is sufficient to say that here in St. Louis, there has been no saloon or bar-room carried on in the theatre for ten years ; and that the third tier is frequented by as honest and virtuous a set of 21* 250 DEFENCE OF THE STAGE. auditors, male and female, as can be found in any community — of colored people. And here I must complain of the illiberality and positive unfairness of all the clergymen in this city who oppose the theatre, as they say, upon principle ; for while they very willingly and with apparent can- dor admit, in private, that the establishment here is an exception to the generality of theatres, and, indeed, that its directors deserve credit for the manner in which it is conducted, in the pulpit they do not give us the benefit of this exception, but class all theatres together indiscriminately, and indiscriminately con- demn them all ! The fourth objection, that going to the theatre leads young men to become immoral and dissipated, is con- troverted thus : — They learn there the best lessons taught by history and experience ; they meet the best society ; they pass their time pleasantly — commit no si n — a nd retire to their homes satisfied that they have spent the evening in rational enjoyment. " Dissipa- tion" has no more connection with the theatre than with the church. If a man is desirous of indulging in the intoxicating cup, he can obtain it, (and will,) as easily after attending a lecture or prayer meeting, as after witnessing a theatrical performance. Instead of theatre-going being an injury to the young, (or the old either, for that matter,) I insist that it is a positive benefit ; and I hope to live long enough to see the respectable portion of our pulpit orators throw aside the long cherished prejudices, and come out in its support. Come, gentlemen of the long robe, what do you say to a " combination" between the church and the theatre, against the devil and all REPLY TO THE REV. G. W. ELLIOT. 251 Ais works? Instead of endeavoring to put down the theatre, which you can never do, suppose you preach against the abuses which exist in it — recommend your hearers to witness none but good plays — moral plays — plays which are plays ! Tell the young men to stay away when the trash which managers are some- times compelled to offer, is announced, and crowd the house when a sterling piece is brought out ! If preachers will follow my advice, and let it he understood that they uphold the good and condemn the bad of the theatre, they can then incorporate into their sermons some of the sentiments of our fine old dramatists, and instead of quoting as they now fre- quently do, surreptitiously, some good sentiments from a play, and shuffle it over with a half-uttered reference to "the poet," they could quote boldly from Shakspeare, Johnson, Home, and other play writers, and give them due credit for their sentiments. More than a thousand times have I heard passages from Shakspeare quoted in the pulpit, and never but once did I hear that poet's name mentioned there ; and then the minister said, he valued the plays of Shaks- peare next to his Bible ! The minister here spoken of gave this rule as the proper one to be followed by all Christians, in relation to amusements : " Never to go to any place where you are not willing to die !" An excellent rule, I humbly think; and one which, if fol- lowed by us all, (preachers as well as players,) might be considered a safe guide through life. For twenty-five years I have followed the stage as a profession. If I thought it a sinful one, I would leave it to-morrow — nay to-night; though a large 252 DEFENCE OF THE STAGE. family is dependent on my professional exertions for support — my children for their education. If my own motives and feelings are known to my- self, my aim has always been, so far as my limited influence extended, to elevate the drama ; or rather to so conduct my course in the management of such theatres as have been wholly or partially under my direction, as to maintain the stage in its proper position among the professions. This I have effected, so far as the public would sustain me ; and, in con- clusion, I invite all who believe that theatre-going is attended with injurious effects, to examine well the subject — discard all illiberal prejudices, exercise a Christian spirit towards those who differ with them in opinion, and pause before they publicly utter opinions, which, if concurred in by the community in which we live, would consign to want and starvation all who are engaged in the theatre ; consisting of no less than sixty or seventy individuals, who, for virtue, intelli- gence and honesty, (leaving myself out of the party,) may safely challenge a comparison with those who eeem disposed to deprive them of their bread. [1848] FOU SMITH LETTER FROM EX-PRESIDENT LAMAR. Galveston, Texas, lO^A January, 1849. Dear Sol., — If, in consequence of my long silence, you have been induced, as I fear you have, to drop me from your "list of friends," I hope you will not deny me the privilege, under fair explanation, of reinstating myself in your good graces ! Our acquaintance be- gan at that halcyon period of life, when the heart is most susceptible of strong and lasting impressions ; and I can assure you, my old friend, that the attach- ment which then grew up between us, making us two as one man, has not been weakened in me by the flight of years ; but on the contrary it has rather been improved by time, the great maturer, which converts the flowers of spring into the ripe and pleasant fruits of autumn. My life, like your own, has been some- what checkered by adventure ; but I account it one of the greatest blessings of fortune, that amidst all her bufferings, she has not deprived me of the cheer- ful companion of my happier days — the " friend of my soul"— my old Sol. Smith. A three-years entomb- ment of myself in Mexico and the frontier wilds has prevented my receiving your little book, which you kindly dedicated to me, and which now meets my sight for the first time. Its laughing tone and ani- mated stories, show that you have not lost the joyous spirit of your younger years — that you are still the (253) 254 LETTER FROM EX-PRESIDENT LAMAR. man of "infinite jest," in spite of all your ups and downs; and surely, my friend, if the ancients were right in saying that a brave man struggling with ad- versity, was a sight worthy of the gods, I know of no claimant more worthy of their favors than yourself — than you who have contributed so much to lighten the burthens of others, while bravely bearing your own. You have "played many parts " in your time — have played them all well, and most certainly none better than that of the true " philosopher and friend." Then "here's a double health to thee," old Sol. Long life and a happy one to him who knows how to enjoy prosperity with gratitude, and whose happy alchemy of mind can turn even misfortune into pleasantry. "All the world's a stage;" but the "farce, tragedy and comedy" of life will soon be over. Let us then, my friend, endeavor so to act the parts assigned us here, as may secure to us a good cast and full benefits in that sublimer theatre which will be opened hereafter by the great Manager above, when the universe shall be the audience and eternity the curtain. Your Friend, MIRABEAU B. LAMAR. Sol. Smith, Esq., Manager of the St. Charles Theatre, N. 0. THE END. University of California SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 305 De Neve Drive - Parking Lot 17 • Box 951388 LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA 90095-1388 Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed. %i %)jiivj^ ^ojm aofcaiifo% y 0AHVaHllVi ^OFCAII 3 1158 01 273 4801 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY AA 000 411 291 >- \« L % (A> ^EU' bur