!. ■as. 3 ^JSIVJJ fWIUlllJy* O . .iDNY SOV^ 2 V *=7^ UNIVERS/^, i\' ^lOSANCflfj> O ^of CAiim/?^ oruuifo/?4^ : ClZ^s Jl t| AWtUNIV[R% •V L'NIVER% U'JNYSOV'^''^ '^^/^a3AINll-3\\V' ^^^UIBRARYQ^ -^lllBRARYOr ^•l/OJUVJ-JO"^ ^\WEUNIVER% ^lOSAN....,, "^/SaJAINH-^WV' 55 so > -< aofcaiifo/?^ ^OFCAllfORfc 'OAavasiH*^ ^OAiivsaiTi*^ IfJ-^ 1 30 > -v^^UIBRARYQr ^^t•llBRARYar s; )iOV j^^ >i jo^- >? \\UUNIVERS//, ^^lOSANCElf,;^ ^^ -< — n Ml O ^^ irnCl )NIVER% o %Ji3AINil ]H^' BRARYQt IITVOJO^ ,^- 1 11(7 5 iv: ^MEUNI\ b^l >- — :alifo/?^ fv^ v< ^Okl\ . m^' wmwA. ^\iosAvr,fiPf- ^1 ONVSOl^ o -r. .:> •> mwm/A 'A- — <: o il. jn I j>_' t '^/5a3AINn-3WV' .^ ,v^ 'i <^ ^ ^M^ I'VIVFP ^ /^ "^^mmvw^^ -_ \ CO 33 ,^ ?^,r^. .^ •T ,\t.iii?DAnN '^>v>|^^ on Thursday afternoon in season for the reception of S'vPl-tVUaJ; Mr. Sol. Smith's company on that evening. A great portion of the timber on Monday morning waved to the breeze in its native forest ; four score hours afterward its massive piles were shaken by the thunder of applause in the crowded assemblage of men!" A consideration of the drama in America may be followed in one of two ways: either by reading the local history of dramatic centres, or by tracing the careers of individual actors. By the latter method one obtains a wider view, a more distinct impression ; by the former, one is able to reach isolated pictures. Dramatic art always seeks the city of greatest com- mercial activity. English actors turn their eyes toward London, American actors toward New York. Therefore a history of the New York stage is almost general in its scope, including mention of all those whose work represents the highest tradition. But the theatres are local, and the old Park Theatre, or the Chatham Street Theatre, or the old Bowery Theatre is no more to be reckoned as typical than the Boston Federal Street Theatre or the Philadelphia Chestnut Street Theatre. Theatre buildings in America have never meant much to American theatre-goers. In the early days of New York, when the population hugged the Bat- tery, the old centres of amusement were mere rooms, constructed hastily and liable at all times to fire. But flames could not stop the persistency of managers; they would rebuild time and time again, experience making them more careful, and each new edifice be- coming more permanent in character. The repeated building of the old Bowery Theatre is an instance of the strong intentions of a people to support the play. Architectually, many of the theatres were imposing looking on the outside. Within, however II '^DitJIf tllll) fl^™sy> *^®y were adorned with rich hangings, and, if ^ Fanny Kemble is correct, were often imitative in ^^CjStCVDtlV decoration of the London houses. A history of the theatre in America would include descriptions of these old places. It would likewise consider the manage- ment of the stock companies. In retrospect Henry Clapp has left his judgment of these early organiza- tions : Fifty years ago [from 1882] there was a narrow but orderly stock system, under which plays were presented by actors in residence, who sometimes supported a visiting artist, but generally filled, or were expected to fill, the public eye, without the added light of "stars"; now there are a bare dozen or so of regular stock com- panies, but scores upon scores of "stars," who rush over the country, trailing their "troupes" behind them. In 1832 [and even at an earlier date] the theatre depended for its maintenance principally upon a small wealthy upper class; now it is the occasional distraction of the few, and affords a chief, eagerly devoured pabulum of entertainment to the many. In our desire for a National Theatre, where we may turn for some standard of taste and judgment, we must not lose sight of the truth as pointed out by Clapp that "the old-fashioned stock company, with its dignity, its respect for achieved distinction, its strict regimen, its abundantly afforded opportunities for observation, imitation, and criticism, and its thoroughly professional atmosphere," did much for the pioneer actor, fulfilling the needs of an endowed institution. A record of the famous aetor-famiUes in America necessarily includes a survey of the stage in America during practically one hundred years. It involves an indication of the theatre side, of the art side, of the social side ; it suggests an interrelation of family with family, whether professionally or by marriage, as was often the case. There is hardly a family men- tioned in dramatic history that has not had two or 12 t more representatives on the stage, but the chapters ^0*Dcl^ BTTu that follow deal with those best known, who through l^rcff prrHV many generations of players have with persistency !r*'P*'*'^'^'*c remained actors despite pecuniary demands and momentary advice. A student perhaps will some day take these data and scientifically exemplify, according to Galton, the principles upon which the doctrine of hereditary genius is founded. Such a brief would throw inter- esting Ught upon what most impresses a reader of theatre records — the recurrent aptitudes and tastes which, if they do not descend from father to son, un- failingly crop out later in a clear case of atavism. It will be worth while reasoning why, despite the earn- est effort and absorbing desire on the part of some of the Jeffersons to excel in tragedy, they not only failed to be accepted as tragedians, but their natures, through five generations, prohibited them equally as much from so becoming. The actor-famiUes in America played together in the companies of the day ; many were trained in the same school, under the same men in England. In America, they were subjected to the same conditions of hard- ship. As the years passed, and they stood forth in the proper magnitude of their art, when they assumed other duties than those of actor, they called around them their associates; they in turn encouraged and helped the rising generation. It all became a personal intercourse, not a business engagement made through a middleman. The stock system fostered schools of acting, and the methods of Booth the elder, of Cooke, of Forrest, were as definite as those of Kemble, Kean, or Macready. There is a temptation, in writing of the drama, es- pecially of the hves of players, to allow the imagina- tion too free a scope ; to ignore fact, and to picture the actor in keen and graceful phrases. When Charles Lamb wrote his Eha essays on Elhston, when 13 "^O'Dn^ But) he characterized Palmer and King, he gave them Mr»iil-r»fhflti warmth and distinction —but it is an idealizing proc- Jf CptCvOaY ess that while agreeable may often be far from right. That it is possible to defy the mutability of the actors' art, however, is certain. Notwithstanding critics may disagree, there are points of common opinion among them and these may be taken as positive factors. It is possible to determine the essential traits in an act- or's work: whether or not he shows fire or spiritual calm; whether his humor is spontaneous or not; whether he possesses romantic vigor or intellectual force— these are determined by the records of the past. But whether or not an actor's method can be easily summarized is another question; even he himself falters when he comes to explain by what process he arrived at his powerful effects. Lester Wallack de- voted well-nigh a whole chapter in his "Memoirs" to the explanation of how he worked. Every actor has to go through the drudgery of memory study, has to grope for the author's meaning, has to determine the best way of unfolding the motive by gesture and ex- pression. And every actor in his explanation has to come back to the use of the word "inspirational" when he sums up the finished character. To pick and choose is one thing in art, to construct is another. "I found," said Wallack, "particularly in comedy, that if an actor is not self-conscious, it is simply be- cause he has not studied his effects. ... A comedian can never forget his audience as much as a tragedian can." This statement involves the whole controversy between Coquelin and Henry Irving — a question as to whether an actor should lose himself in a part or realize always that he is simulating. The ten representative families chosen for consider- ation herewith are those wherein not only has the persistent actor manifested himself, but wherein representatives figure prominently on the boards 14 -^SBp|fe^ W^^L W^«^ *^ ^ 1 W- *' '^-■' 1^^ ■ .^ l^/l ^ \ /' / JUNIUS BRUTUS BOOTH. to-day. There are many whose serviceable careers '^DO'tJS'P fllXD would be of equal interest : the Placides, the Deans, »<3^^^^^*, the Gilberts, the Forrests, the Wheelocks— so might a ^tpltXO^I^ longer Ust of actor-famiUes be named. As it is, a close study of a limited number involves the inclu- sion of the others. The magnitude of art in the actor-families decreases from generation to generation ; it is difficult to char- acterize any player of the present as purely a trage- dian or a comedian. An actor is now engaged to do what a manager wishes him to do. He hardly be- comes identified with one company before he is shifted to another; he is paid as much to sing in musical comedy or to talk in farce, as he is to play in Shakespeare. The System consults his versatiUty, not his incUnation. The conditions of the theatre to- day are different from those of yesterday. Thus far, within a decade, the theatre has produced no distinct type of actor to compete with Booth or Forrest, with Wallack or Davenport. But because the demand has not as yet called forth such a type, we cannot assert that such a type does not exist. The farther we pro- gress, however, in our study, the more conclusive we will become that a stock company is productive of better results than any other system of management yet tried in America. The veteran actor is fast disappearing, that is, the veteran of two or three generations ago. There will always be an old class of theatre enthusiasts, but the men who knew Booth, who saw Sothem or Forrest, are becoming rarer and rarer. It is the reminiscent touch of sadness that stamps the veteran actor, the veteran playgoer. Perhaps one will tell you of his recollection when Forrest came to town — how as a boy he went with his father and stood in line, waiting to purchase his seats. Another will close his eyes, and with the mental picture of Forrest and Salvini before him — as though it were yesterday — he will tell you 15 ^O'Dcl'p HUi) wherein their interpretations of Shakespeare dif- jHtpl 1 1 Ual "Are we so soon forgot when we are gone?" Many a play has served its momentary purpose and been placed upon the shelf ; many an actor, now forgotten, has received his nightly applause from warm hands now cold. But the famous actor-families in America, who have dominated in their particular line, who have brought originality and clarity of vision to bear upon their work, who have passed an art down from generation to generation, who have done their best to preserve the old and to encourage the new, will not be forgotten, because their effort and accomplish- ment have become crystallized into a tradition. And provided that tradition does not limit, it serves to strengthen the dignity of dramatic art. i6 n— THE BOOTHS a -a 3 5 "^ I « S o a OS m 3 p *-» a> CO oH p o o • 1) (DW S « -S -c ._, <* a oj t §l^.s§a s * a 5 rt-3 t; o m «^ O 0, o g ^ o S- S « o 'S ■* *; s ^ 00 c: a- * ^ -goo ^ u tc o -1^ 7^5 o ^ CLi (7* •^ ^ - a ij d c3 o a c s S-5QS a o GD U 03 a o O « ■9« 0)00 1-5 -si 43 1) © 2 rr ^ fli rt, -Q ■^ S c b a; li^ o S o * J3- dc 2 E^ ta iuK. o SW n t^uS as M «5 ^ C e!3 6 "-a w« c o _ a t. 4) 2 ce >.3iti •- a .2 _ '^ Hi a u Q) a C 05^'^ •e— t; .£ 5 * * " C 3 t- — • S 2 E •a^fesSE a >-icc i. 3 .3 f^ -■ i* X >■ M o o o a ^ .atots mH . O * •-5 ^ _aoo o a -- ki en O "-5 lU a-^ _l>x> ^ goo - 03 1-1 * >> iJ .2 "3 a- 3UUP ^gii jjijj iig install himself in the regard of Gar- rick that when he finally turned his attention to theatrical management Jefferson left his benefactor, carrying with him a valued wig from the great man's wardrobe as a farewell gift. This curiosity remained in the family until it was destroyed bv fire in 1842. Jefferson, in succession, became theatrical manager at Richmond, Exeter, Lewes, and Plymouth, yet at intervals, during a period embracing 1750-76, he was still a familiar figure at Drury Lane. But so loyal was he to the tradition of Garrick that when the lat- ter left this theatre, Jefferson never returned to it. For twelve years he went through the customary experience of the itinerant actor. His first wife was a Miss May, daughter of an em- phatically prejudiced man who looked upon the stage with ill-favor, and, despite his daughter's talents, would not give his consent to her marriage with Jefferson until the young actor had agreed to forfeit £500 should she ever be an actress. This shrewd business transaction never amounted to much. The irate prejudice subsided, and wherever Miss May is mentioned in theatrical chronicles, it is to extol her virtues and to praise her sunny tem- perament. Tate Wilkinson said : "She had one of the best dispositions that ever harbored in a human breast; and, more extraordinary, joined to that meekness, she was one of the most elegant women I ever beheld." It is a significant fact that the future Jeffersons were of direct descent from this marriage ; for Mrs. Jeffer- son died on July 18, 1776, from the effects of exces- sive laughter, and it is related of the Joseph Jefferson of our own time that when his enjoyment was hearty he always felt a sharp twinge of pain at the base of 60 his brain. Throughout this branch of the family an 'C^hC unfailing ripple of merriment is detected. ^r>fFj>vdmTd Mrs. Jefferson's husband was likewise of quick ^,vUCr9unp humor and understanding. Sometimes his hilarity was within control; at others, it became absolutely ungovernable. During the course of a play one night, something amused him so much that he was unable to proceed with his lines; the dialogue was stopped while he had his laugh. This lighter vein, on occa- sions, found a mischievous outlet in pranks upon his fellow-actors. During the "recorders" scene in "Hamlet," an audience once was somewhat sur- prised by a new turn to the dialogue : Guildenstem is besought, in the text, to play the instruments, and, showing utter perplexity and confusion, is rounded up by Hamlet's outburst, "Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me ! You would play upon me," and so on. Presumably, Jefferson was the crafty courtier that particular night, for to Hamlet's insistence Guildenstem replied : "Well, my lord, since you are so very pressing, I will do my best," and began "Lady Coventry's Minuet" — a per- formance which must have upset the gravity of the Dane, not to say anything of the audience. We know that Thomas Jefferson was married twice, his second wife being a Miss Wood; that in his pro- fession his comedy was considered excellent, and his tragedy was placed beside that of Mackhn, the great Shylock of the past. Jefferson's most prosperous time was that spent at Plymouth, where he reaped a livelihood at his theatre fr/3m a sailor audience. A contemporary leaves a picture of a typical scene : I remember, on my first trip to Plymouth, I was rather startled at observing the effect which acting took on them, as also their mode of conducting themselves during a performance. It was a common occurrence, when no officers were present, for a tar in the gallery, 6i (iL^ijC who observed a mess-mate in the pit that he wished to ^ |2r . address, to sling himself over and descend by the pil- ^^CUCl j30n)3 lars, treading on every stray finger and bill in his way. Conversation finished, the act of "shinning" up again was an easy matter for a sailor, used to masts and spars. But toward the end of his Ufe Jefferson saw his in- fluence dwindle, and finally sHp altogether from him ; so, too, did his theatre yield him less and less of an income. His loneliness was aggravated the more by gout, which hindered his movements, but which did not succeed in affecting his spirits; he was cheerful to the last. Speaking of Jefferson the First, as he is often called, Edwin Forrest characterized him as "that beautiful and gifted old man," and exclaimed : "What poverty and what purity and high morality were in his household ; how he educated his children, and how at last he died among strangers, heartbroken by in- gratitude!" The fact is, that even as he was born near Ripon, so Jefferson died at Ripon on January 24, 1807, while visiting his daughter Frances. There are some lives destined to have their day and go out like the flicker of a candle, leaving no brilliant trail behind. They serve their inestimable use, they have their imme- diate and subtle influence, yet leave in their wake no public sympathy or regret. Little notice was taken of the death of Jefferson. "The Gentleman's Magazine" of that year contained a short reference to the fact that he had been one of the beneficiaries of the Theat- rical Fund, which was originally organized by one of the profession, a Mr. Hull, and which has continued its good services to the present day. Jefferson's repertoire was extensive; the man who could play Gratiano in "The Merchant of Venice" was also an agreeable Jacques in "As You Like It." His roles were a strong admixture of the serious 62 z o (/) UJ ti. X a. LU (/I O ~3 UJ UJ q: I I- UJ X and of the comic, and on the stage, it is said, he 'dTht "possessed a pleasing countenance, strong expres- ^ sion and compass of voice, and was excellent in de- J]0U01?jSO1ljSi clamatory parts." Certain it is that the immediate necessities of a manager forced him into many a highly diversified character; this must have made him more daring than otherwise in his ventures ; he was willing to attempt anything. Tom Weston's will contained the following clause : Item. — I have played under the management of Mr. Jefferson, at Richmond, and received from him every politeness. I therefore leave turn all my stock of pru- dence, it being the only good quality I think he stands in need of. Weston was an actor in Garrick's company, and a son of the chief cook of George II. The second Jefferson of note, the first of the Josephs to go down in theatrical history, was bom at Pl)nii- outh in 1774. He received a good education, and in early youth was seen on his father's stage in small parts. He must have been independent, both in thought and action, for, even as Richard Booth, his contemporary, he soon exhibited repubUcan sym- pathies, which fed upon the revolutions in America and in France ; besides, he disapproved vigorously of his father's second marriage. These facts were the cause of his going to America in 1795, and thereafter he never returned to England. We can trace the far- reaching effect of this estrangement, for when Jeffer- son the Fourth was abroad at one time, he met Mr. Tom Jefiferson, who was a stranger to him, yet who was a descendant of Frank, half-brother of Jefferson the First, and sometime lieutenant in the navy and commander of the royal yacht. Jefferson left behind him a brother John, mentioned as tall, slim, sallow, and an uncommonly poor actor ; these deficiencies made him desert the stage for the 63 -^Ji^ pulpit. And even as one of his half-brothers, George, ^ ff . was painter as well as actor, so Joseph Jefferson— 3jCuCirj30U)3 once in America — and after being engaged for the Boston Federal Street Theatre, served as a witch in "Macbeth," and also wielded the scene-painter's brush, preparing all the scenes for a produc- tion of "The Tempest." Most of his time was now spent between Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Bal- timore, and Washington. From the Federal Street Theatre he went to the John Street Theatre in New York, where he remained until 1803, his low-comedy and old-men's roles attracting much attention. He scored markedly in "The Provoked Husband" and as Verges in "Much Ado About Nothing." Dunlap, author of the invaluable record of the American stage, wrote of Jefferson : He was [February, 1796] a youth, but even then an artist. Of a small, light figure, wefi-formed, with a sin- gular physiognomy, a nose perfectly Grecian, and blue eyes full of laughter, he had the faculty of exciting mirth to as great a degree by power of feature, although handsome, as any ugly-featured, low comedian ever seen. While there, the actor had a rival in the public favor. But according to all accounts, by no means was John Hodgkinson to be considered a rival personally. He had come to New York from Boston with Jefferson, and his repertoire was a varied one ; though he was an actor of pronounced ability, as a man he was known for his rash actions and unlicensed deport- ment. The John Street Theatre was now superseded by the Park, and Jefferson transferred himself to the latter house, where he benefited by association with Hallam and Cooper, and where he was destined to remain for five seasons. One of his initial successes was as Peter in "The Stranger," and his old-men's roles continued to rise in favor. An amusing story is told, revealing the vividness of 64 the actor's character parts. A sympathetic lady "^hz had viewed him one evening, bent over and tottering ^ ^ on the stage, and she became suddenly fired with the 3jtttCt^)SOttj3 determination to help remove such an old person from the boards by raising a subscription for him; on the interest of a wise investment, his last days might be spent in comparative comfort! She went to the theatre the next morning to consult with the management about her charitable plan; she was thoroughly convinced that the actor was infirm, and she was prompted by a high ethical impulse to do good. She even carried with her a Ust of well-known names, which she had procured as probable subscrib- ers, with her own at the head. Thus far had she pro- ceeded. But Jefferson, lively and young, happened to pass by at the critical moment ; he was stopped and introduced to his would-be benefactress, who, con- fused and exceedingly surprised, beat as hasty a retreat as possible. Long before the years had begun to leave their trace upon him the actor was dubbed "Old Jefferson" by those who had seen him, a tribute to his inimitable art. Living at the house of a Mrs. Fortune on John Street, Jefferson met her two daughters daily. Hester became the wife of William Warren, and Euphemia married Jefferson, thus interrelating two families of actors, noted alike for their comedy vein and for their great refinement and culture. The mother of these girls was buried in St. Paul's Churchyard, where there is also to be found the tomb of George Frederick Cooke, marked with a stone which was erected by Edmund Kean and repaired at different times by Charles Kean, E. A. Sothern, and Edwin Booth. In 1803, the year Jefferson left New York for Phila- delphia, there were three theatres in America con- sidered the Mecca for theatrical talent; they were regarded in the light of estabUshed homes, centres of 65 (Th^ a defined standard, even as the Cora^die Fran^aise is ^ the fountain-head for French dramatic taste. In the 3^CuCf0On0 order of importance, these houses were the Phila- delphia Chestnut Street Theatre, the New York Park Street Theatre, and the Boston Federal Street Theatre. So that when Jefferson left New York, in much per- turbation of mind, and joined the Chestnut Street Theatre, after having spent the summer of 1803 in Albany, he became a member of a stock company of noted players, among them William Warren. Twice Jefferson returned to New York, in 1806 and 1824, but he was destined to remain in Philadelphia for many years, going to Baltimore and Washington at intervals. In 1808 he was playing Sir Oliver Sur- face, Charles, and Crabtree ; a famous cast of "The School for Scandal," in 1822, showed Warren as Sir Peter, H. Wallack as Joseph, Jefferson as Crabtree, T. Burke as Moses, John Jefferson as Trip, Mrs. Wood as Lady Teazle, and Mrs. H. Wallack as Maria. Jefferson is said to have resembled the third Presi- dent of the United States to such a startling degree that the two were thought to be related. Indeed, a brilliant wag of the day claimed that the actor was none other than the President himself, who played a dual role, deceiving his public by appearing on the stage at night, and by wielding the executive powers during the day. Thomas Jefferson was sUghtly ac- quainted with the actor, and had once given ham a court suit as a token of friendship. In appearance, Joseph I was "scarcely of medium height, not cor- pulent, elderly, with clear and searching eyes, a rather large and pointed nose, and an agreeable general expression." Those eyes of Joseph Jefferson abounded in humor wherever they roved. John P. Kennedy, one-time Secretary of the Navy, author, and friend of Edgar Allan Poe, wrote of him : 66 He played everything that was comic, and always ^b^ made people laugh until the tears came in their eyes. ... He had a patent right to shake the world's dia- 5i^ff^J2JOnj2l phragm, which seemed to be infallible. '^' We can imagine the pungency of his Dogberry and Verges, the free wit of his Laimcelot Gobbo, the naive foretaste in his Bob Acres, of what his grandson exhibited to a future generation. "He was so perfect an artist," said a critic, "that although always faithful to his author, he could, by voice or face or gesture, make a point at every exit." Jefferson had the proud distinction of being the best Polonius that had ever trod the American boards; so too his Mercutio was fraught with all the free exuberance of the part. The variety of his style was judged from a selection of two hundred roles, a list wherein many a play is lost to the present generation. Only the names remain, and these are of sufficient particularity to create a smile and to hint at the denouement: "Self-immolation, or Family Dis- tress" is in itself descriptive, but there is something overpowering in "The Lonely Man of the Ocean, or The Night Before the Bridal, with the Terrors of the Yellow Admiral, and the Perils of the Battle and the Breeze." In 1817 Joseph's three sons, John, Thomas, and Joseph II, appeared in "Valentine and Orson," a trio recalUng the three Booths when they played to- gether in "JuUus Caesar." Thomas, with considera- ble local reputation, met his death at Petersburg, Virginia, in 1824, while substituting for a fellow- actor. The character in the drama was required to leap from a rock, and young Jefferson, full of con- fidence and energy, attempted it; in so doing, he ruptured a blood-vessel in one of his lungs. His se- renity of character helped him to bear the ordeal of consumption which resulted. An interesting cast for a performance of "The 67 "^nhC School for Scandal," given in 1831, was almost en- ijoo? xuoiim jo auou -xiSnBp aa-nj-; Aq puB 's.iaaaBO ssa P9A10IIP; oiiAV 'saai{!)ojq o.u^ ^tq -jny Suiaq '/CtiuiBj spq jo qsB ?ou SBAi. aq 'auTBU spq jo JO'jot aii; SBAV uosjajtfaf sbiuoiu, air •RlVxrei auo up QjcBd au Ain^uaa -b :)souiib— sasa/t uaa? joj— jo:}Bajj> iBaj s:)i— iaq:jBjuBi puB sjBa^C aAy-A?joj joj %\ p aaq^Bj ujoq-Biqd[apBnqd[ sjq ' aAg-A:juaM:) joj aiajuiAV uba di aioa Q^\ pai^Bid SBuioqi asBi a •biutSjjA jo 'uosjaga^ sBii — suosaaaaf n^ jo snou-jsnnj aqi JO ABpmiiq pa:jBaqa[a» A^ui ^-aa aq^ uo passBd SBUioqx ?sbi ^tl3noua A[snouno puB sbiuoiu, "B popua puB UBSaq auq aqj, -siq aSBijs ut AnuiBj Aub jo p. snonui^uoD !)sa3uoi aq; si qi -ijioi. PIABQ qqiAi aa^Bain aqq ajuf ; .ro:)OB qsBi aq; jo Jaq^BjpuBjta-:) -?Bai8 'uosjajfaf 'B uaq* "9^,2,1 j aSBqs SupiBads-qsrtiSua aq; pagnuapt iiaaq sBq Aiiuibj aqx -aajjaf qdasof qsay aq:) jo uospi -5Bax8 'japia aq:j uosiagaf qd Theatre, and Charles Reade who, as a playwright, 'flTh^ was an associate of Boucicault's. Then it was read to ^ the company, and Jefferson became absorbed at once 9j0ffCrjSOlt0 in the study of the part. He lived it, breathed it, be- came so intent upon it that he often forgot where he was, except in the Kaatskill Mountains. One evening, on returning to his room, he began re- hearsing some stage business that had occurred to him during the day. He again became the old man of the Hudson, obUvious to the world outside and to the fact that his window was wide open, while his brilliantly lighted room was in full view of the street. On, on he went with his work ; one by one, people out- side stopped to witness the peculiar vagaries of a man they thought little short of mad. Suddenly there was a tap on the door and a slavey entered. " 'Sir,' she stammered, 'there's a policeman at the door, and he says as 'ow there's a crazy old man in your room, a-flingin' of his 'amds and a-goin' on hawful, and there's a crowd of people across the street a-blockin' up the way.' " With the wonderment of Jefferson's jovial laugh ringing in her ears, and warmed by the kindness of such a hearty sound, the little slavey went from the room and closed the door, and there was a stir among the interested crowd, as their free view of "Rip Van Winkle" was cut off by the rapid descent of the cur- tain. At last the evening of September 4, 1865, arrived, and the first performance of "Rip Van Winkle" was given at the London Adelphi, with immediate suc- cess; a success that was to last throughout Jeffer- son's lifetime, for no more wonderful hold upon the public sympathy is to be found in American stage history than this. "Not Edwin Booth's Hamlet, nor Ristori's Queen EUzabeth, nor Charles Kean's Louis XI, nor Seebach's Marguerite, nor Adelaide Neilson's Juliet, nor Salvini's Othello," writes 81 Cl^t William Winter, "has so towered in popularity, or so dominated contemporary thought upon the influence 3;CffCr)30n)3 of the stage." There was no striving for effect in Jefferson's acting of the role. Minute as it was in its study, yet the gen- eral impression was one of naturalness. His under- standing of the part was so thorough that the picture could not but be perfect in detail and in spirit. Bran- der Matthews classes Jefferson's art with that of Regnier, Got, and Coquelin, French comedians of the first order. "Rip" had a wide appeal. It told a story filled with humor and with pathos, and it carried a moral. A minister wrote in 1868 : I never saw such power, I never remarked such nature in any Christian pulpit that it was my privilege to sit under, as in Joseph Jefferson's Rip Van Winkle. . . . So simple, so true, so beautiful, so moral! no sermon written in the world, except that of Christ when he stood with the adulterous woman, ever illustrated the power of love to conquer evil, and to win the wan- derer, as that little part does, so perfectly embodied by this genius which God has given us, to show in the drama the power of love over the sins of the race. Jefferson returned to America in 1866, destined to play "Rip" many thousands of nights; his time was now spent largely in touring through the South and West. After his marriage, in 1867, with his distant relative, Sarah Isabel Warren, Jefferson continued his en- gagements, cutting down his repertoire, until, at the time of his death in 1905, he was chiefly spoken of as Rip, or Bob Acres, or Caleb Plummer. In 1869 he bought two estates, one in Hohokus, New Jersey, and the other in New Iberia, Louisiana. The life of Jefferson was not devoid of its deep shadows. His domestic sorrows, his managerial trials, his ill-health in 1872, when threatened with blindness, death — all brought their dark days, but 82 U _l o a. X -D O O if) CD q: < U- L. UJ i/i O the hereditary strain was a smile. The years 1873 and ^\>(^ 1875 saw him again in Europe; the latter time for ^v^ two and a half years, when he was managed by John 3j^ff^t^<2l01t)3 Sleeper Clarke. His relations with Edwin Booth were unique ; never between the two were aught but verbal contracts required, and some of Jefferson's most suc- cessful engagements were filled at Booth's Theatre. Jefferson was also associated with W. J. Florence in "The Rivals," and as late as 1896 a star cast, in the same play, included Mrs. John Drew, Julia Mar- lowe, N. C. Goodwin, and Francis Wilson. Jefferson always did his best with whatever small part was given him. In the benefit performance for Lester Wallack, when Edwin Booth was Ham- let, Jefferson made an infinite amount out of the First Gravedigger, a role with infinite riches com- pressed. There have been many players in the Jefferson fam- ily, yet in each generation but one alone has carried the art forward, and to a commanding height. The women have proven themselves worthy as stock actresses; none, however, have created styles that have emphasized them as original. Even Jefferson was criticized for resting so persistently upon the fame of a few roles; yet during the last years of his life, he declared it impossible for him to learn a new one. An examination of the list of parts played by him will, however, reveal the fact that Jefferson was far from lacking diversity. There is a wide difference between Dogberry and Tony Lumpkin, between Touch- stone and Bob Acres. Still, the penalty of sun- shine is that no special day stands out from the other cloudless days. In the darker aspects we are more likely to recognize a mark that will emphasize itself hereafter. Tragedy has a distinctive color; comedy has various shades, and shades are easily forgotten. So that the levelling process has begun with Jeffer- son; in the future his versatility will become more 83 ■flrh^ and more confined; his name will be boimd up in those three characters already designated as his 3,CuCr0On)S greatest, and as George William Curtis has so wisely said : "Without Jefferson, 'Rip' will once more pass from the stage into literature." Out of a large family of children many adopted the stage; one, Margaret, married the novelist, B. L. Farjeon. Thomas Jefferson, bom in New York, September lo, 1857, is the son to whom the family tradition was bequeathed. Educated in London and Paris, his d6but was made in Edinburgh, when, dur- ing 1877, he played Cockles in "Rip." After many engagements — for at different times he was asso- ciated with Edwin Booth, Lawrence Barrett, Ade- laide Neilson, Wallack, Davenport, Mrs. John Drew, W. J. Florence, and John Gilbert— young Jefferson assumed the chief roles in his father's plays, and in 1905 he acted Rip Van Winkle in New York with creditable intent. But with the death of his father, a standard was left behind that will be difficult to emulate. Jefferson IV literally passed away in harness ; he saw his associates drop from him one by one ; he felt his activity becoming less and less. His whole pleasure was in a contemplation of the days that were past ; his "Autobiography" is easy and genial in its narra- tive qualities. But a man bound to the stage for a lifetime does not care to ring down his own curtain. His last performance, though not supposed to be his final one, was given at Paterson, New Jersey, on May 7, 1904, when he acted Caleb Plummer and Mr. Golightly. Like Sir Henry Irving, and like Mrs. Gil- bert, Joseph Jefferson was still an actor, when at Palm Beach, Florida, on April 23, 1905 (the anni- versary of Shakespeare's death), his great career was ended. The comedy of this excellent actor struck below the surface, keeping the heart healthy and the mind 84 sound. It contained pathos, but it was too mellow to '^h^ be tragic ; it gave happiness, even though that hap- ^ fc ^ piness might be mixed with tears; its sorrow was on 3/^^^^J^^^^ the borderland of a smile. The critic was right who said that Jefferson's comedy "sunned" the heart. If it followed in the channel of least resistance, if it sought only to entertain, its means were legitimate and its methods pure. Speaking of Jefferson, Henry Watterson once wrote : "He did in America quite as much as Sir Charles Wyndham and Sir Henry [Ir- ving] did in England to elevate the personality, the social, and the intellectual standing of the actor and the stage." Clarke Davis has further to remark, in his illumi- nating article : [Jefferson's] inherent love of sincerity in art prevented him from playing "Richelieu." . . . There is iio fustian in "Rip Van Winkle," no sham passion, no tawdry sen- timent, no untruth of any kind. . . . The Cambridge coterie of literary and artistic celebrities, upon the sug- gestion of Mrs. Stowe, urged him to play "Lear." But doubting his ability to properly present that character upon the stage, Mr. Jefiferson refused. He said: "All my theatrical training and experience has tended to make me a comedian; tragedy requires for its expression, grace and dignity of beauty." The Jeffersons were not of the stuff from which tragedians are made. Joseph I once attempted a tragic role, but was greeted by a jovial audience with roars of laughter. It was the sterling quality of the man as well as of the actor that helped raise the dignity of Jefferson's dramatic art. He may not have been an "active" reformer ; rather was he an example of the Matthew Arnold precept: "Wouldst thou *be' as these are, 'live' as they." He lived the life of a gentleman, and it told in his work. Geniality, kindness, warmhearted- ness cannot be simulated, neither can refinement. 85 '^j^C "Perhaps," writes James Huneker— "and this is not ^f'fft^fein^tii ii^^ended as a comparative study— Jefferson's Pan- JjtUCipOU^ gloss was bettered by J. S. Clarke's; perhaps his Caleb was topped by J. E. Owens; perhaps Harry Beckett was droller as Acres— and nearer Sheri- dan, perhaps— and yet, after the critical yardstick is laid aside, there remains that inexplicable residuum —the rich personality of Joseph Jefferson." Joseph Jefferson was many-sided in his tastes; he was an artist of merit, and a keen critic of the world's great painters; he wrote in a natural, direct way, as his "Autobiography" bears evidence; he was an I ardent angler, a taste inherited from his father, whose happiest days were spent perched near a stream, with a rod in his hands and a whistle on his lips. He also occasionally lectured on "the art of acting"; and after delivering addresses at Yale (1892) and Harvard (1895), he was given by each university the degree of Master of Arts. Among his friends Mr. Jefferson counted his whole profession, as well as Uterary men of the day. Many an hour was spent with ex-President Cleveland, who came regularly to Buzzard's Bay to visit him. He could claim likewise the public here and abroad. At the time of his death he was president of "The Players," which at once links his name with that of Edwin Booth— the two great exponents of comedy and tragedy. The actor's art is fleeting, yet is the "character" of his work permanent. By his death Mr. Jefferson, the actor, has passed into tradition. But art may gain new life through example, provided it is not tied down by it. William Winter, who has witnessed the ranks diminish, claims for Joseph Jefferson the right of Lamb and Thackeray and Irving to live. The quaint style of "Elia" is more tangible for us than will be the quaint style of Jefferson for future gener- ations. Yet both are diflicult to emulate, since they 86 EVENING PUB] '.lo^^.'pii .'.'ftorson. tlie faniovis a.-lor. and liiin.splf widely knovvu on the stage, died at his hoMie hen- yestenlay after an iH- iiPs i)f several months. Mr. .lefFerson \va< horn In this .ity lulv I). 1Sf.<.>. and was graduated from (•..lumbin Iniversity. Following in the footsteps of his father and grandfather. lie ma. Ji^ I IKK.S«r\ ZPH W. JEFFERSON DEAD of Famous Actor Was Also Prominent on Stage A \orU. .May 2.- i \',y .\ . I', i li ^V. .lefTerson. son of tlie late MAV 2, 1919 SCHOOLS NEED TEACHERS ] STRIKE TIES UP FREIGI- itudents Urged to Prepare for Du- ties In Institutions Here The need of an immediate remedr for ;he oritioal shortage of teaohers exist- ing in the Philadelphia schools Avas emphasized at the annual meeting of thf Teaehers' Chib in m.- oiillrooin of the Hotel Rittenhoiise last night. •"Five hundred students should eim-r itie nty "Xormal J^ohool each year." said INIiss I Maryland Trainmen Uphold Who Are Laid Off . Cumberland. Md.. May 2. — Fv I traffic on the Cumberland and Peni j vania railroad, the main feeder ol i(;corges Creek region, running bet Cumberland and Tiedmout. W. Va.. tied up today by a strike of tiain Two trainmen had refused to i -oal consigned to the plant of the ' irginiii Pulp and Paper Company -uko. where a strike has been in ress for three months. They lid off and the strike of the rail len followed. Richard P. Bennis Buried The funeral of Ui.-hard P. Per f (Jermantown, took place this un ig at ir> o'clock from the Churd lie Immaculate Conception, Price !ulliv;an streets. The Rev' .T. Mc •f St. .lohn's College. RrooklyVi.* N. ondufted the services. Interment Ma\\>son 1215 Ch were both very near to human nature in their work. ^Ur^ Tradition is sometimes hard to excel; present-day ^*)^ drama and acting bear witness to this, in comparison 3j^ffCt^)S01tj8 with the past. That is why Jefferson, the comedian, will live. The element of mirth was given in large quantities to his family; their very name spelled comedy. 87 IV— THE SOTHERNS < s ■^ ^ Eh W H ^ O C5 M o a) .2 H a t»oo ■4«vrrt rich — anything but that — yet always charitable and ^OtytPlljo generous to the extent of prodigality." And so, "discovering that Boston was not exactly the field for success," Sothem naively remarked, "I came to New York, and applied to Mr. Bamum, who was then running his Museum where the Herald Building now stands; told him in a straightforward manner all that had occurred, and asked him to give me an opportunity of playing twice a day. I felt that all I wanted was con- stant practice and experience. He engaged me at a sal- ary of $20 a week, and a little while afterwards raised it to $25. 1 did play twice a day, and on Thanksgiving Day six times; but it did me an enormous deal of good. After that, Mr. Marshall of the Broadway engaged me for $40 a week to play here and at the National Theatre, Washington. I mention these details only to show you what we of the old school had to undergo in order to achieve success. The very fact that we were obliged to play so many parts created a repose which, it seems to me, few of our modern actors possess." Sothem left for Baltimore where he joined Laura Keene, who was to be a condescending godmother to the future Dundreary. On September 9, 1854, he be- gan an association with James W. Wallack, whose theatre in New York was then situated on Broadway, near Broome Street; the engagement lasted four years, during which time Sothem had the advantage of understudying Lester Wallack. "I owe much of my success to the elder Wallack and to Rachel," wrote Sothern. "Wallack showed me the necessity of conveying at rehearsal what you intend to do at night, and the importance of paying strict atten- tion to the minutest detail. He was one of the most thorough stage-managers I ever met. We were like a set of schoolboys under discipline. We had to give a reason for everything, and therefore, to study hard. With reference to Rachel, I left myself out of an en- gagement for six weeks, in order to see her play her celebrated characters. There was a fascination about 95 €1)0 her acting that was almost painful. She had less action than any artist I have ever seen, but she was so intensely >-. ♦.|«o*««i«'rf "* earnest, and her passion was so overwhelming, ^^OtljCpnjJ though subdued, that you lost yourself in wonderment. I learned from her, therefore, that some of the chief ele- ments of whatever success I expected were earnestness, intensity, and thorough identification with every part in which I might be engaged." But besides the advantage of coming under the guidance of Wallack, Sothem likewise benefited by his contact with William Stuart. The fact that there was a Mr. Colin Stuart in the same company made "Douglas Stuart" drop his "nom de guerre" and act before the public under his own name. On January 22, 1857, a turning-point in Sothem's career was reached when, as Aimand Duval, he seconded Matilda Heron's Marguerite Gautier, and won dis- tinct applause. "Three days before the production," wrote Sothem, "Mr. Wallack asked me if I could study the part of Armand Duval in time. To his amazement, I in- formed him that I was already 'up' in it, and I went to the rehearsal the next morning. Miss Heron's success was pronounced, and for the first time in my life, I re- ceived several enthusiastic calls. This was my first up- ward move to that position in the profession to which I had aspired for years. It was only a week or two before this that I had made up my mind to return to England and seek some other employment." In the meantime, during the summer of 1856, fol- lowing every actor's inclination to turn manager, Sothem, with Henry Isherwood, had directed a theatre at Halifax. It must have been a provincial affair, where ambition was by far the largest part of the attempt. For though good plays were produced, the environment was naught to inspire one. "We hired a bam," wrote Sothem, "scattered sawdust on the floor, secured a lot of benches from a neighbor- ing church, and erected a small platform which was lighted by candles." 96 Nor would the public, which was gathered together '^1^0 during two seasons, support a place that was any ^rtfTie^trd better; for after Sothem expended a considerable ^Dt^vTUP amount of money on the erection of a more preten- tious hall, he found himself heavily in debt, and thought it best to leave town suddenly, only returning when he could satisfactorily appease the wrath of his irate creditors. It was as a widower that Sothem in early life married Fannie Stewart, daughter of the Rev. R. I. Stewart, who was an incumbent of a parish in the County Wexford, Ireland. The young lady was likewise granddaughter of the Bishop of Derry. Through the first attempts and failures of her husband upon the stage, Mrs. Sothem, cast for minor parts, accompanied him wherever he went. While playing in New Orleans during 1859, the actor's expense-book was graced with the following item: "Son bom; named Edward Hugh." Another child, Lytton, was then three years of age. His success as Duval thus kept Sothem from re- turning to England. Miss Heron now mounted "Medea" and cast him as Jason, a tragic part so totally unfitted to him that he turned toward Miss Keene again, in whose company he was handed roles of the most insignificant and unpromising character. Sothem is an instance of the actor who can build up a reputation for himself with a limited number of parts; by so doing, however, he restricts his scope, and he narrows the judgment of his public, who, once accepting him in a certain line, will accept him in no other. Sothem's wit was due to the keen dis- cernment he evinced and to the close study he always made of the society in which he was thrown. The social status was much the same as that from which Byron and Robertson and Boucicault obtained the atmosphere for many of their plays. This was the era of Bulwer. The artificiality against which Sothem 97 '^Xyt rubbed revealed to him, with his sense of humor, an opportunity of holding the mirror up to that nature ^OtljCfUJS immediately around him. It was all in the way he did it; Dundreary has died with him, since it is hard to preserve on paper the inimitable mimicry of the trivial. The material out of which Dundreary was created was not that furnished by Tom Taylor, the author of "Our American Cousin." In fact, the forty-seven speaking lines which were handed Sothem by Miss Keene were afterward lost in the creation which was gradually evolved. When he first received the manuscript, Sothem frowned and openly objected. Only after he was told that he could do as he liked with the r61e, did he agree to consider the part; Dundreary, even as Topsy, just "growed." But the manner in which that growth was accomplished was unlike the broad style that has in later days marked our coarse farces ; there was acute observa- tion ; there were keen flashes — all of which added to and built up a figure of prime importance. From being a secondary character. Dundreary became the chief attraction. The play had been refused by another manager when it was passed over to Laura Keene ; she too was about to let it go, when her manager, John Lutz, detected in it what he thought to be possibilities. In his "Auto- biography" Joseph Jefferson wrote : Here was a rough man, having no dramatic experience, but gifted with keen, practical sense, who discovered at a glance an effective play, the merits of which had es- caped the vigilance of older and, one would have sup- posed, better judges. He gave me the play to read. While it possessed but little literary merit, there was a fresh, breezy atmosphere about the characters and the story that attracted me very much. I saw, too, the chance of making a strong character of the leading part, and so I was quite selfish enough to recommend the play for production. 98 C'tllflioii T. Mlnlnn rirou,, E. H. SOTHERN IN "CHANGE ALLEY' The reading took place in the greenroom, at which the '^lj0 ladies and gentlemen of the company were assembled, " and many furtive glances were cast at Mr. Couldock ^Otll^l^tWl and me, as the strength of Abel Murcott and Asa ''-^*^*'V^ •'*»*' Trenchard was revealed. Poor Sothern sat in the cor- ner, looking quite disconsolate, fearing that there was nothing in the play that would suit him ; and as the dis- mal lines of Dundreary were read he glanced over at me with a forlorn expression, as much as to say, "I am cast for that dreadful part," httle dreaming that the character of the imbecile lord would turn out to be the stepping-stone of his fortune. This imbecility of the Englishman soon became an intellectual study which at once placed Sothem in the light of a playwright, deserving as much credit for the conception as Taylor himseB. There was no pad- ding ; it was all a natural, logical following of a char- acter that was the product, in one picture, of those brainless follies of society which in themselves are so meaningless, yet which afford such scope for satire. The play of "Our American Cousin" is a very dull and artificial effort as it stands in the Taylor version ; it is however replete with possibilities for the actor, and fortunately the first cast comprised comedians who recognized fully the rich contrasts of humor. In a setting of conventional English life where all the old stage subterfuges of hidden wills, clandestine loves, and match-making women are resorted to, where the solicitor is a villain, and the father is on the verge of financial ruin, such a warm-hearted character as Asa Trenchard proved himself to be, especially in Jefferson's hands, created a deep im- pression because of his open frankness. This drama is one which was "made" after the actors took hold of it : they entered into the spirit that Taylor only par- tially realized in his lines. Sothem's Dundreary was played to the Georgina of his wife. There was a love scene between the two, hard to equal in the manner it was rendered. Dun- dreary did most of the talking. 99 "^nC I've been a bachelor ever since I've been so high, and -^ _ I've got rather tired of that sort of thing, and it struck ^)OtuCt^0 ™^ ■* you'll be kind enough to marry me, I shall be very much obliged to you. Of course, if you don't see the matter in the same light, and fancy you'd rather not, — why, I don't care a rap about it. . . . You'll find me a very nice fellow, — at least I think so, — that is, what I mean is, that most fellows think me a nice fellow, — two fellows out of three would think me a nice fellow, and the other fellow, — the third fellow, — well, that fellow would be an ass. I'm very good-tempered, too; that's a great point, isn't it? You look as if you'd got a good temper; but then, of course, we know that many a girl looks as if she'd got a good temper before she's married, — but after she's married sometimes a fellow finds out her temper's not exactly what he fancied. I'm making a devil of a mess of it! I really think we should be very happy. I'm a very domesticated fellow, — fond of tea, smoking in bed, — and all that sort of thing. I merely name that because it gives you an insight into a fellow's character. You'll find me a very easy fellow to get along with, and after we've been married two or three weeks, if you don't like me you can go back again to your mother. The first night of "Our American Cousin" was on October i8, 1858, and, as Jefferson claimed, was the turning-point in three careers, for he, Miss Keene, and Sothem were all received with favor. However, it must in no way be thought that Dundreary, on his first appearance, was as rich in humor as we have here indicated. When it is said that the con- ception was a growth, it was a growth on the stage as well as off ; for Dundreary increased from night to night, as the fancy seized Sothem, encouraged as he was by the plaudits of the crowd. Jefferson and Sothem played together many times during their careers. Only the month before, an ex- ceptional cast in "The Rivals" had been assembled, with W. R. Blake as Sir Anthony, Mrs. Blake as Malaprop, Miss Keene as Lydia Languish, Mrs. Sothem as Lucy, Jefferson as Bob Acres, and Sothern as Absolute, a role which in his hands 100 "lacked the soldier's peculiar step and bearing" and ^l^e^ the "dry, serious humor"; but it did present a well- ^"^ dressed officer who was a "gay, rattling, volatile ^OthCt^tl^ blade" and who at the same time did not lack refine- ment. Those were great casts, and it was an honored system that allowed in a short time the change to "The School for Scandal," with Sothem's Charles Surface, Couldock's Joseph, and Edwin Varrey's Moses. Then again the programme shifted to "A Mid- summer Night's Dream," in which Varrey must have made an excellent Quince, Sothem a doubtful Lys- ander, and Miss Keene an interesting Puck. The professional relation existing between Sothem and Miss Keene was odd. They were constantly at variance, yet they were always friends during their association. She welcomed any recognition Sothem might win nightly from the audiences ; and he, with his disposition, would brook no misunderstanding between them that might last any length of time. He would placidly regard her momentary ill-humor, and in some unexpected way would force a smile from her. On one such occasion, when a storm was brev/ing, he called out, "Wait a bit, Laura," and with his Dundreary hop, he crossed the room and turned down the gas. "Now go ahead," he remarked. "I do hate to see such a pretty face in a rage." It was purely a matter of the typical English in the part, together with Sothem's consummate acting of the details composing it, that caused Dundreary to run for one hundred and ninety-six consecutive nights in London, beginning November ii, 1861. It had been performed one hundred and fifty times in America. At first it seemed as though the British public would have none of it. The benches at the Haymarket Theatre remained empty, and only by degrees, slowly and steadily, did the fluid fun per- colate through the English mind. The play failed signally to appeal in Paris, when lOI {^h^ Sothem went there on July 8, 1867, but that was solely because Dundreary was stamped all over ^Otl)Crn0 English. This prejudiced the French people; after- ward they could never properly estimate the true worth of Sothem's art. They always spoke of the man in uncomplimentary terms, and among the French critics only Jules Claretie was able to recog- nize and to appreciate his peculiar and individual style. During this Paris engagement, Henry Irving was in the cast as Abel Murcott and Buckstone, father of the Rowland Buckstone, who for years has been with E. H. Sothem, replaced Jefferson as Asa Tren- chard. The play finally took London by storm. "Dundreary" coats and "Dundreary" whiskers became the rage; the people declared this well-meaning fop to be "the funniest 'thing' in the world." Doubtful at first as to how an English public would countenance such a pointed picture, Buckstone, as manager of the Hay- market, was surprised at the phenomenal success; for he had opposed the piece originally, succumbing at last to the further judgment and advice of Charles Mathews. "Our American Cousin" was the success of the season ; it netted ;^3o,ooo. The public watched Sothem intently ; the crowd fol- lowed, as crowds do when they are pleased ; what he did, they likewise did ; he was the idol of the hour 1 "At one time he bought a long frieze coat from a pig- driver in Ireland, because he thought it was pictur- esque and comfortable, and introduced something like it on the stage, and thus originated the ulster and its half-dozen variations." In dramatic history Sothem*s fame rests on a lim- ited repertoire, yet he did not fail to present new pieces. He was constantly changing his parts, and before long, when " Dundreary " was at his height, he was "Married and Done For" (June 13, 1864), and 102 furthermore became "A Father." Then, in quick ^Vtf^ succession, Sothem appeared as Frank Jocelyn in ^""^ Watts Philips's "The Woman in Mauve" (Decern- ^OthtVXt^ ber 19, 1864), and acted the title-role in John Oxen- ford's "Brother Sam" (May, 1865). Then followed Frank Annerley in "The Favorite of Fortune" (March, 1865), Harry Vivian in Taylor's "Lesson for Life" (December, 1866), and Robert DevUn in "A Wild Goose" (April, 1867). The next year he appeared as an impecimious Marquis in an adaptation of Feuillet's "The Romance of a Poor Young Man." After his first London success in "Our American Cousin" Sothem remained in England some time, travelling from place to place — now in a small piece which he had adapted from the French and called "Aunt's Advice" (December, 1861), then in "The Little Treasure" (March, 1863), in the cast of which we find the name of Ellen Terry, who was a new fig- ure on the stage; in addition, Sothem presented a long list of pieces by H. J. Byron and Robertson. There was one play which had been offered to Jeffer- son under the title of "Across the Atlantic" ; it had actually been put in rehearsal, when Jefferson with- drew it and the manuscript drifted into Sothem's hands; it found favor at the Haymarket (January 14, 1865), rechristened "Home." A similar slip in judgment was made by Sothem himself, when he was offered Byron's "Not Such a Fool as He Looks" ; he refused it because the pla)rwright declined to make alterations which Sothem thought would improve it. So the manuscript went elsewhere, and un- changed, it was ultimately produced by another company with success. As David Garrick (London, April 30, 1864), as Fitzaltamont in "The Crushed Tragedian," which Sothem claimed "was literally a tremendous hit," but which from all accounts was vigorously hissed ; and as Sydney Spoonbill, in "The Hornet's Nest," 103 '^llC ^' J" Florence recognized Sothem's "superb Meis- ^ sonier-like minuteness of art with which he produced ^OtI)CVnjS$ nature in pictures that were harmoniously perfect." Florence and Sothern were fast friends; many a night they spent together over camp-fires in Canada, and each found in the other a kindred spirit when a practical joke was afoot. Some of the plays produced by Sothem contained passages which the actor was zealous to claim as his own. The history of "David Garrick", for instance, if a varied one. It was originally a translation from the German and possessed the proud distinction of hav- ing been refused by every manager of importance— a fate shared by many a play afterward popular. " next simmered in poor Robertson's closet for ei{ long years. Then there came a day when the dran: tist wrote a play for Sothem called "Society" whi the actor, after mature but unwise deUberatio returned. The piece was at last acted successfull by Mrs. Bancroft (Marie Wilton). Nothing daunted Robertson now casually mentioned his play "David Garrick," and Sothem, only too anxious to be obliging after the dramatist's effort to please him, read the manuscript which was drawn from its obUvion, and felt that despite its crudity there were good points in it. After considering the play himself, he turned it over to Buckstone, who refused to accept it for the Haymarket. Sothem persisted. Thackeray and John Leech, both friends of the actor, expressed openly their fear that he would never be able to do the romantic part. But in the face of all opposition, Sothern worked on the manuscript, instituting cer- tain changes until it assumed satisfactory shape. Had Boucicault retained his royalty rights in "Rip Van Winkle," had Robertson not sold "David Garrick" to Lacy for ;^io, each would have reaped a fortune on these two plays alone. Time came, however, when Sothem wanted it known 104 E. H. SOTHERN how much of this play was of his own writing. He '^\\^ had had the satisfaction, so he said, of hearing John ^^ Oxenford declare that he, Sothem, was really the ^Ot^CtlT? author of "Brother Sam"; everyone knew that he had conceived the love scene in "Home"; now he claimed the entire second act of "Garrick." Robert- son's son later on came forward and objected to all this; he said that Sothem's work showed no origi- naUty ; he pointed out what he thought were nothing but jokes which did Uttle to enhance the value of his father's work. Dispute waxed strong between the two, Lester Wallack coming forward in 1877 as Sothem's champion. "Trade," a play which E. H. Sothem presented one season under the title of "The Highest Bidder," was also partly from his father's pen. But we cannot always tell, in the creation of a role, what little points, what humorous lines the actor may add for the sake of effect. Joseph Jefferson made changes and alterations in all of his plays, and he claimed the process legitimate. He was once asked by Francis Wilson if he owned a prompt-book of "The Rivals" showing how much he had added to enrich the part of Bob Acres. Jefferson answered no. Indeed all actors will tell stories of how difl&cult it is for them to retain their cues where a leading player inter- sperses, at the slightest provocation, new lines which help the scene and produce a better effect. Sup- porting actors have to be on the alert for the wit of the moment. Sothem, though he was equally well known in England and America, always recognized this coun- try as his actor-birthplace. However much he trav- elled in Great Britain, he managed to remain like- wise in the United States for long periods at a time. Yet when he felt his physical condition giving way in 1880, he quickly returned to London. Edwin Booth was there that year. On January 22, 1881, he wrote: 105 1 ^v^ "After I had finished 'Othello' last evening . . . I was ^nthrttt^ told of poor Sothem's death. I had passed an hour ^ " ^ with him on Monday, and I really thought he might die while I was at his bedside — he was so emaciated and weak." A monument erected by his son Edward marks his grave at Southampton. As a man Sothem was many-sided, a character built upon a nervous and quickly responsive temperament. He was so sensitive that the slightest variations an- noyed him. He speaks somewhere of his sister not being able to bear the sight of grapes. He abhorred the odor of cologne. A thousand and one trivial things would distract his attention, such as the misplace- ment of a picture, or an ornament awry. Sothem was a man of the world, endowed with a superabundance of good fellowship — more than was wise for him, since his lavishness as host was one of the direct causes of his rapid decline in health. He was generous to a fault, dispensing charity where it was most needed, and where it would attract least notice. Yet had Sothem not been possessed of a dis- cerning mind, he would have been what is commonly regarded as a dilettante. A lover of bric-a-brac, a dab- bler in painting, a good judge of horses, a connois- seur of wines, a practical joker — a sportsman and a jolly comrade — this was Edward Askew Sothem. No player has been more the product of his time ; no player has been more generous to his contempora- ries than he. Sothem's one great enemy was Dion Boucicault ; his other professional associates were not only always sure of being graciously received, but were quick to respond to his humor of the moment. In Byron, the playwright, Sothem's interest was always deep, acknowledging his spontaneity of com- position, where "every sentence is an epigram." He was particular and ofttimes vivid in his summary of a man; he knew the limitations of Robertson, 1 06 though admiring his prolific pen. Speaking of Buck- ^-Uf, stone, Sothem once said: "A simple *Good morning' wlJC from him seems to set the house in a roar. His per- %)OtllCtlt0 sonal magnetism is simply wonderful ... He is Uke old William Warren of Boston, a perennial favorite. He acts as if he had strings on all of his fingers attached to the audience in front, and plays with them and pulls them about just as he wants." So too was Sothem as eager to recognize the gen- ius of W. S. Gilbert and the brilliancy of Charles Mathews. Literally living under two flags, he was ever ready and anxious to balance the dramatic scale of England and America. Off-hand, he would draw resemblances between Toole and Florence, between Chippendale and John Gilbert, Kendal and Lester Wallack, Miss Larkin and Mrs. Gilbert. Of the rising generation, he would point to John Hare, who owes much to Sothem's friendship. But while he had his serious moods, somehow Soth- em could never assume these moods in his work. Critics have laughed good-naturedly over his pathos, as exhibited in "David Garrick" ; they have called it insufferably dull. Sothem "strove" for sad effects, whereas his method of acting was ebullient. At rehearsal he was always particular regarding mi- nute effects ; his work was composed of a blend of the trivial eccentricities of character. He was a pre- Raphaelite, said one critic, for nobody could repro- duce nature in such minuteness as he when he pleased. He was fortunate in being able to express the expressionless; no one was more successful in showing blank bewilderment. We have claimed for Sothem the distinction of being a playwright in the sense that he could enlarge a suggestion. He had a proper view of the work, which would have served him well had he seriously turned his attention to an original drama. His dread of wordiness in dialogue found vent in some advice 107 -^Ji^ he offered to a young dramatist: "Write your plays in telegrams. . . . The public of to-day have got used to ^OtllCtn)3 telegrams, and prefer them to the polite correspon- dence of the Richardsonian days." Sothem was by no means prejudiced against the new playwright; even though nearly every one he met seemed either to be writing a play or selling wines, as he expressed it, he was willing to consider the drama of any who approached him. It must not be written as a one-part play; he was not trying to over- emphasize himself. A good plot, with the essential love element was what he desired. Edward Lytton, the eldest son, was bom on June 27, 1856, and his first real appearance was at Drury Lane as Captain Vernon in "Our American Cousin" on July 24, 1872. In the following year, his American d6but occurred at the Philadelphia Walnut Street Theatre in "The Marble Heart." Then he expe- rienced a season of light comedy and "juvenile" roles. With his father, in 1874, he toured the United States, returning to England later on to play at the Royal Theatre, Birmingham. After that he went to Australia, and again came to America, acting many pieces in his father's repertoire. His career was a short one, for he died on March 4, 1887. Eva and Sam Sothem have proven themselves satisfactory support, appearing in casts with their brother Edward, besides serving in various capacities both in London and New York. Edward Hugh Sothem is his father's distinct suc- cessor. Bom, as before noted, on December 6, 1859, in New Orleans, 79 Bienville Street, at an early age he was taken to England (1864). There in course of time young Sothem was placed at school. At Dimchurch, near Rugby, and at St. Marylebone and All Souls, he spent a great part of his youth. Then his father attempted to make an artist out of him, even placing him in the art school 108 of the London Royal Academy. But whatever talents '^\\» in this line he may have inherited from the paternal ^"'^ side, to a larger extent he possessed the Thespian ^Oti^ttttJJ tastes, and so finally he prevailed over contrary opinions and entered his father's company, while "Brother Sam" was running at Abbey's Park Theatre, on Broadway and near Twenty-second Street (September, 1879). The part was that of a cab- driver — a paltry few lines which he proceeded to forget on the instant the curtain was rung up. "Why don't you say something?" exclaimed the elder Sothem in an undertone, "can't you speak?" Undaunted, as his father before him, the young ac- tor now went to the Boston Museum, where "Pan- gloss" had been turned down in 1852, and armed with a letter from the "paterfamilias," his long struggle began. "Poor Eddie is a nice, lovable boy," wrote the father, "but he will never make an actor." Returning to London in the spring of 1880, young Sothern joined the Charles Wyndham company; he remained there until after his father's death; then, when Mrs. Sothem died in 1882, he joined forces with his brother Lytton, and travelled for a season, finally turning toward America in 1883. Here in a professional capacity, he has remained ever since. Unfortunately, at this stage of the game, after he had served awhile with Barrett and John McCullough, Sothem found himself with a play upon his hands — a "great" farce, written by himself, and called "Whose Are They?" All else had to be brushed aside, and his entire worldly substance was poured into the venture which the would-be playwright was confident of making a success. But it stranded him after a few weeks at the Star Theatre, beginning May 26, 1884. His close friend during this time was Joseph Haworth, who was in the cast with Eva Sothem. As a playwright, Mr. Sothem in later years wrote (1904) "The Light that Lies in Woman's 109 -iThr Eyes," which was presented by Virginia Hamed, and 7"^ ^ failed. ^OtljCrUjS Now followed the vicissitudes of short engagements, one with Charles Frohman, who was making his first strides toward the position he was to occupy as a theatrical manager. But it was while with Estelle Clayton in "Favette" and "Mona" that Sothem at- tracted the attention of John Rickaby, who was managing Helen Dauvray. He secured an engage- ment with that new company, and during this period Daniel Frohman began to recognize in the young actor the possibilities of a "star." Through sheer pluck and confidence — for he literally haunted the oflBces of the managers — Sothem found his opportunity in 1885, when Bronson Howard's "One of Our Girls" was produced, and he met success in the role of Captain John Gregory. During the season of 1886-87 he remained with Miss Dauvray, whose repertoire included "A Scrap of Paper," "Met by Chance," "Masks and Faces," and "Walda Lamar" (in which Alexander Salvini played). Fi- nally, when the company disbanded, and young Sothem's fortunes were at their lowest ebb, Daniel Frohman formed with him the association which was to lead him to prominence. Successes without number followed: "The Highest Bidder" (1887); "Chumley" (1888) ; "The Maister of Woodbarrow" (1890); "The Dancing Girl" and "Letterblair" (1891). In such plays as "The Prisoner of Zenda" (1895), "An Enemy to the King" (1896), and "The King's Musketeers" (1899), he manifested a rare talent for romance that brought him immediately to the fore as an exponent of the romantic drama. So, too, one season he acted in a symbolic play of Hauptmann's called "The Sunken Bell" (1900), beau- tifully rendered into English by Charles Henry Melt- zer; but the audience ignored the effort, though it was a worthy one which Mr. Sothem intends to re- peat. His ventures in "If I Were King," a picturesque no VIRGINIA HARMED incident in the life of Francois Villon, and "The C^l^C Proud Prince" are deserving of note. i^rtf-Tirfttrf Having shown himself capable of shades of comedy, ^Ot^Cvltp Sothem made a worthy move when he appeared as Hamlet (1899), for which his temperament seemed well adapted. Some while before this, Vir- ginia Hamed was his leading lady ; she became Mrs. Sothem on December 3, 1896. Mrs. Sothem is an American product. After serving her apprenticeship on the road, her first character in support of Mr. Sothem was Clara Dexter in "The Maister of Woodbarrow." She then appeared in "Chumley," "Captain Letterblair," and other plays. Her creation of the role of Trilby (1895) was her next distinct stride. Since then, she has played inter- mittently with her husband: in "The Lady of Lyons" (1897), "The Adventures of Lady Ursula" (1898), and "A Colonial Girl" (1898), besides appearing as Ophelia. In the modern drama her most noteworthy attempt thus far has been in Pinero's "Iris," though her Camille (1904) received careful attention. Thus far, the most important step Mr. Sothem has taken has been his professional association with Miss Julia Marlowe, an artist of rare qualities and fine intellect. In these days of theatrical competition, large capital only can effect such a combination. But the art results have yielded their benefit. Six Shake- spearian plays thus far comprise a repertoire that shows an ambition and versatility possessed by few modem players. Until the so-called co-star arrangement was made, Miss Marlowe had fairly toyed with the slim roles contained in the dramatized novels of the historical type. But in the higher drama she displays in voice, manner, and interpretation a poetic sense, a human warmth, and a spontaneous feeling — all tending to produce in her Juliet, her Viola, her Beatrice, her Portia, a color that makes them real and warm and true. Ill (LllC What may be said of Mr. Sothem is, that sincerity, '' earnestness, and a student's sense of proportion have ;^Otl)CrU0 marked his work. His ambition appears to be based on sound judgment and careful thought — perhaps too careful, since in his Hamlet and in his Shylock there is a slowness that betokens imitation of a remembered model. But there is a healthy activity in the fact that the actor is not wholly tied down by tradition ; he does not hesitate to make innovations in the text, and his stage management is vigorous and good. He has conceived his Katharine and Petruchio a pair of romping lovers ; to some who have seen the proud rage of Ada Rehan, seconded by the courtly banter of her lord and master, this is as startling as though the actor had placed a red wig upon Shylock, according to Macklin,and interpreted the role as a hu- morous one, to agree with the Elizabethan conception. A feeling is uppermost in mind regarding the son of E. A. Sothem that his serious and intellectual moods, as shown on the stage, are infused elements, not as native to him as the lighter vein which made many associate his Chumley with his father's Dundreary. During the old Lyceum days in New York, before the little playhouse was swallowed up by a mon- strous building, Sothem fairly revelled in his com- bination of comedy and love sustained at the point of the sword. He has what his father lacked — the romantic mood — but he inherits from his father the comedian's talent. Perhaps it is the strong seri- ousness he upholds that separates father and son in their spheres as actors. Mr. Sothem's grace as a lyric poet suggests his natural inclination toward the light comedy of modem days ; his remarks published from time to time regarding the drama indicate his desire to reach beyond his inherited abilities. In him the Sothem family of actors is worthily preserved for our generation. 112 V— THE BOUaCAULTS m H l-H o o < O CO H O o o n ao So S 3 OS "3 a o 3 a a V— THE BOUCICAULTS GENERALLY have to start at the beginning of the alphabet," said Aubrey Boucicault, "when I attempt to recollect all the plays my father wrote." The majority of our great actors were men of more than one activity. It is true that their interests always con- verged toward the consimiing topic of the stage, but the variety in their several branches was sufficient to make demands upon separate executive powers. We have already noted this fact in the cases of Booth and Jefferson ; but no- where is it more emphatically exempUfied than in the life-work of Dion Boucicault. For at different periods he was actor, lecturer, pamphleteer, head of a school, and manager ; while at all times he was playwright, and as such he will be remembered by future generations. Yet, though his plays number over four hundred, only a few of them, of which "London Assurance," "The Colleen Bawn," and "The Shaughraun" represent the special types, are at all familiar to the theatre- goer of the present. These are mentioned because they are indicative of the "genres" of the Boucicault drama: the Irish models destined to influence many future melodramas, and the comedy of manners, itself a brusque imitation of all that is sprightly and artificial in Goldsmith and Sheridan. Because Boucicault was so intimately connected with theatrical life, he was narrowed by that very knowledge of stagecraft which made him strain character for situation. Edgar Allan Poe, in his estimate of Mrs. Mowatt, the actress, referred to "that despicable mass of inanity 'London Assur- ance.' " However sweeping this opinion may be, it warns us at the outset to approach the Boucicault 115 Cl)C drama from across the footlights, and not at closer OOUClCilUlt^ 'Yhe records of this dramatist's early life are contra- dictory. He was bom in Dublin, on December 26, 1822, and was christened Dionysius Lardner Bouci- cault, after the great philologist and pamphle- teer, Dr. Lardner, who was satirized by Thackeray in "The Yellowpluch Papers." Samuel S. Boucicault was the father of Dion, and there is some indication that, being a Frenchman, his name was spelled "Bosquet." This was further trans- formed into "Boursiquot," and once more changed to "Bourcicault," which was the spelling retained imtil circa 1856, when the "r" was dropped. Some say that the father by profession was a banker and a brewer, while others would assert that he was a draper; not content, another source would claim that when young Dion went to Paris, he adopted the title of "Viscount," and the report at the time was circulated that he was of noble extraction. On the mother's side, Boucicault received his great- est heritage; she was a Miss Darley, an Irish lady, and sister of the essayist and dramatist, George Darley, as well as of the Rev. Charles Darley, who wrote "Plighted Troth," a play which failed so sig- nally at Drury Lane. Boucicault appears to have shown some pleasure over this result, for his uncle had regarded his own first efforts as works of a schoolboy. Dion was the youngest of four, his three brothers being William (a banker), and George and Arthur, twins. Up to the age of nineteen, when his first play was written, contradictory statements are to be found regarding his education. One says that he was placed by Dr. Lardner v;ith Stephenson, the famous engineer, where he studied for a while ; and that he showed remarkable technical skill in his plans for the water-works of London. The same writer adds that 116 DION BOUCICAULT. Boucicavilt "rode on the first engine of Stephen- '^ht son's that ran between Liverpool and Manchester." ^]Xfi*rrirafr1fci There are various records of his having attended APuUClCwUHp London University, where he counted among his friends Charles Lamb Kenney, a namesake of Elia. Pascoe gives Dublin as his school-centre. Yet those who knew Boucicault, notably Stephen Fiske, won- dered at his knowledge, and puzzled over how he secured his education. In March, 1838, the first professional step was taken when Dion joined a dramatic company at Chelten- ham, England, and was billed as Mr. Lee Moreton. His maiden role was Norfolk in "Richard III." Fourteen years after, he made his London d^but. But before this, in 1848, he was a widower, having been married since 1844 to a woman much his sen- ior. The alliance was not a happy one, and when she died in Switzerland Boucicault returned to Lon- don, swathed in great mystery. He possessed a small fortune, to which was added the bounty of one of his relatives. Boucicault's silence about his for- eign life created considerable suspicion. Certain it is that his wife's death did not deeply affect young Dion, who, when he reached England, proceeded to live in an extravagant manner. The public eye was already upon him; at a surpris- ingly youthful age he had met success with the first of his dramas, "London Assurance," given its pre- miere at Covent Garden, on March 4, 1841. The name it bore proved to be a hasty substitution made just before the rise of the curtain, for originally it was called "Out of Town." "It will not bear analysis as a literary production," wrote the author in a preface to the second edition of the printed play. "In fact, my sole object is to throw together a few scenes of a dramatic nature, and there- fore I studied the stage rather than the moral effect. I attempted to instil a pungency into the dialogue, and 117 '^|l^ to procure vivid tones by a strong antithesis of char- acter. The moral which I intended to convey is ex- 130UCtCnUlt£$ pressed in the last speech of the comedy, but as I wrote 'currente calamo' I have doubtless through the play strayed far wide of my original intent." "Barefaced assurance is the vulgar substitute for gentlemanly ease," says Sir Harcourt Courtley. "... The title of gentleman is the only one out of any monarch's gift, yet within the reach of every peas- ant." This is the substance of that last speech. As Boucicault said, the "motive" was not suflBciently emphasized, but the stage pictures were effective and the characters afforded ample scope for good acting. Boucicault has written his own account of his d6but as a dramatist, colored with a tinge of pleasant romance ; he has told in a minute way his feelings as he took the first play to Charles Mathews, who read it as a one-act piece. Surprised on seeing such a boy before him, Mathews encouraged him, though handing back the manuscript. Boucicault at the time thought that had the drama been a five-act comedy, Mathews might have taken it, so in a few days he remodelled it and astonished Mathews by his quick reappearance. The play, now a larger roll of manuscript, was read and accepted. But when put in rehearsal; "Scene after scene," said Boucicault in his pen-picture, "was rewritten at the prompt-table and handed wet to the company. Thus the last speech of the play, which is technically termed 'the tag,' was composed and handed to Max Harkaway. The next day, or on some subse- quent day, Vestris took the author aside and said: 'Farren wants to speak "the tag." I suppose you don't mind?' 'Well,' said the author, looking up with his Irish smile, 'will it not sound rather strange in the mouth of Sir Harcourt Courtley?' [Originally called Sir William Dazzle, the surname afterward used for another character.] 'Oh, never mind — I am sure the public will not. Bartley does not object; in fact, he ap- proves.' And so it stood." ii8 The whole play was cut after a conventional model vLQC of which "The School for Scandal" is the most poig- niXritrrfrmrTt^ nant example. Boucicault was too yoimg to do aught -^^UWUl'aWH'P but reflect what he either had heard or had read. One may forestall his dialogue by the apparent direct- ness with which the author works up to a point or situation. "'London Assurance' was made to order on the shortest possible notice," the dramatist continued. "I could have wished that my first appearance before the public had not been in this out-of-breath style ; but I saw my op- portunity at hand. I knew how important it was not to neglect the chance of production, the door was open, I had a run for it, and here I am!" For such a yoxmg man the play exhibited a remark- able proficiency and surety in dialogue, besides the- atrical richness. Once Boucicault spoke of wit as not possessing a soft and genial quality — of its being more admirable than endearing; and he condemned its excessive application as heartless. For this very reason he stigmatized "The School for Scandal" as the most cold-blooded drama on the stage. But in writing "London Assurance," it cannot be denied that Boucicault's eye was upon this more polished comedy of the eighteenth century. Nor, after all, was there much originality in "London Assurance," for, in other forms, its plot had been used before, and John Brougham himself came for- ward claiming his share, not only in conceiving the character of Dazzle, but in supervising the con- struction of the whole piece. A long dispute followed, and Lester Wallack gave his opinion in favor of Brougham; but the latter was not overanxious to receive his just deserts, whatever they might be ; his friends were the ones who persisted in push- ing the case. Finally, it is believed, the two authors went to an attorney's ofiice in London, and there Brougham prepared a statement as to his exact 119 (Tb^ share in the work, and forthwith signed away all . further claims on receipt of a substantial check from loOUClCilUltP Boucicault. The dispute left no marked ill-feeling, since Brougham afterward appeared in many of the Boucicault dramas. Among them he played O'Grady in "Arrah-na-Pogue." Such a misunderstanding at the outset of the dram- atist's career is significant; it was to be repeated many times during the years to come. In fact, Charles Reade's remark should be borne in mind : "Like Shakespeare and Molifere," he said, "the beg- gar," meaning Boucicault, "steals everything he can lay his hands on; but he does it so deftly, so cleverly, that I can't help condoning the theft. He picks up a pebble by the shore and polishes it into a jewel. Occa- sionally, too, he writes divine lines, and knows more about the grammar of the stage than all the rest of them [the dramatists] put together." Lester Wallack was at the theatre during the first production of "London Assurance." The managers of Covent Garden had done their utmost to motmt the piece according to the latest improvements in stage art. The audience saw before them rare exam- ples of the boxed-in scene, where all the appoint- ments were fitting and realistic. The stage-manager was wellnigh stunned when the yoimg dramatist asked him to use a real carpet in one of the settings. Herein may be noted another of Boucicault's claims to influence; more than any other playwright, he depended largely upon the accessory of scenes to reach certain effects. He used fire in "The Octoroon," and water in "The Colleen Bawn" — those external elements affording many outlets for thrilling situa- tions. The Boucicault drama was essentially active. He studied his audiences carefully to note in what way they responded to a given climax — a surprise which he may have taken some time to prepare for them. And he reached the conclusion, after years of 120 experience, that an actor's ability has its limited '^DftC extent of power, of hold, of magnetism. "I have been able," he wrote, "to compare results, and find that when an audience exceeds a certain size, it is very difficult to establish in it perfectly this fusion of minds. . . . Wherefore I am led to believe that a group of more than two thousand persons is not so susceptible to the psychic influences exerted by artists, as a group of less than that number. There is a limit to the genius of the actor as regards its reach over his audience; and no auditorium should exceed in size that limit." His first success was rapidly followed by other plays. "The Irish Heiress" was presented in 1842 and "Old Heads and Young Hearts" in 1844. Between these came "Alma Mater, or a Cure for a Coquette" (1842), which he was accused of appropriating from an un- acknowledged source ; and his attempt to write a sen- timental comedy at the age of twenty-one, bearing such a comprehensive title as "Woman," failed ut- terly. The newspaper comments were not overcor- dial. They did not ascribe to his second nor yet to his third piece the merit they assigned to his first. "And yet," Boucicault added in a naively impersonal man- ner, "the character of Jesse Rural, drawn from na- ture, seems to be a Uterary portrait of more merit than any of the heartless types of the older and more shallow composition," Thus, in 1889, Boucicault spoke with the confidence of a man who, having achieved, can afford to criticise and to estimate him- self. The remarkable fact throughout his career, however, was that no matter whether good or bad, original or otherwise, the Boucicault drama was eagerly sought by the theatre because it was made for the theatre. As fast as the dramatist wrote, just so fast were his manuscripts given to companies for rehearsal. Boucicault himself declared in the presence of Ste- phen Fiske that "he was a lucky bag out of which 121 -BouctcaulW •(^h^ some managers drew fortunes and some drew . blanks," Jeflferson succeeded in putting his hand 'BOUClCHUltP upon "Rip" --he did more than that, for it was he who put Boucicault's hand in the way of doing it; Frank Mayo secured "The Streets of New York"; Chanfrau reaped benefit from "The Octoroon"; and Robson and Crane were fortunate with "Forbid- den Fruit." At the London Princess Theatre, on the evening of June 14, 1852, Boucicauh presented his own play, "The Vampire," it being his first appearance as an actor in that city. During this year he met Miss Ag- nes Robertson, who was supporting Mrs. Charles Kean. Let us stop for a moment and gather a few charac- teristics around Dion Boucicault. One grows older with the years, but it is typical of Boucicault that he blossomed all of a sudden, that he slipped early into whatever intellectual maturity he was to possess ; and thereafter he became surer in his powers, with- out greatly intensifying his insight into human nature. Stephen Fiske called him an enigma, "a gay, semi-fashionable, semi-Bohemian" fellow. He was impulsive, nervous, a quick worker, and as ready to flare into a rage as he was to exhibit his abundant Irish humor. "I knew [him]," writes Clement Scott, "in the 'Colleen Bawn' days at the Adelphi, when he had a magnificent mansion and grounds at Old Brompton. ... I knew him in the days of 'The Shaughraun' at the same theatre, and I met him constantly at the tables of Edmund Yates [et als], and I was also a frequent guest at his own table when he lived, as he ever did, money or no money, credit or no credit, 'en prince' at his flat. . . . Dion was a born 'viveur,' a 'gourmand' and 'gourmet,' and certainly one of the most brilliant conversation- alists it has ever been my happy fortune to meet." When John Coleman used to see Boucicault at Charles Reade's in later years, the dramatist had 122 Copyright fry Aubrey BoucxcauU MRS. DION BOUCICAULT become much older looking, but his nature was un- 'flTTjfr changed. Therefore the picture given of him as one of the guests at Reade's table is not misplaced 05OUCtC3Ult)SS here, for he could sing his "The Wearing of the Green" with as much spirit at sixty as he could at any other time. Coleman wrote : This distinguished actor and author had (so he him- self told me) left England under a cloud, but had "cast his nighted colour off" in America, and returned to tri- umph. When we first met he was living "en grand seigneur" in the famous mansion at Kensington Gore, which had formerly been the home of the Countess of Blessington. He was then making a fortune one mo- ment and spending it the next. . . . His accomplishments were many and varied. He knew something about everything, and what he didn't know about the popular drama (which to some extent he in- carnated in himself) wasn't worth knowing. Although no longer young, his mind was alert as a boy's, and I can well believe what Charles Mathews, Walter Lacey, and John Brougham often told me — that in his juve- nalia he was the most fascinating young scapegrace that ever baffled or bamboozled a bailiff. He was still handsome. His head, though perfectly bald, was shaped like the dome of a temple, and was superbly, I may say, Shakespearianly beautiful. His face was a perfect oval, his eyes brilliant, his figure elegant. Old stagers were wont to say he was a mere replica of T)rrone Power^the famous comedian who perished in the wreck of the ill-fated "President." Such is a sketch of the man who married Miss Rob- ertson and set sail with her for America in 1853. He was headstrong and reckless, as is shown by every vital circumstance connected with his life. He was gifted with a quick eye and a ready expression. So it was that "on the spur of the moment," as he says in that preface to "London Assurance" which he ad- dressed to Charles Kemble, "I completed this work in thirty days. I had no time to revise or correct ; the ink was scarcely dry before it was in the theatre and accepted." Such rapidity is an unwise and unsafe 123 ^Yl C recipe to give any dramatist, but it would seem that ^ , all theatrically successful plays have been quickly X^0UClCilUltj3 constructed. This was the case with "The Lady of Lyons," penned by Bulwer to cover a former failure, as it was with "Camille," written because Dumas "fils," as well as Dumas "pere," disapproved of a scenario made from the former's novel by some un- known and melodramatic pla5rwright. Boucicault combined, therefore, the rapid inventive gift with the aptness of the producer. He was strictly a writer for the stage, and he had the foresight to study his wife's capabilities as well as his own. He realized the Umitations of each, and he wrote parts accordingly. Being Irish, he possessed the moonlight sentiment which, in such plays, always shines upon a denied patrimony ; because he was Irish, he had the right to be picturesque in a "mavoumeen" way. His whole dramatic idea never went beyond the confines of the stage. Even in acting — and he lectured many times upon the art — he averred that it "could be taught only on the stage, as swimming can only be taught in the water, and riding on horseback. AH chamber tuition is worthless. Elocution and declamation are the last, not the first, lessons a young actress or actor should learn. ... I deny that [the art] . . . can be taught and practised on a hearth-rug. I deny that Antony can address an imaginary populace, that Romeo can make love to an absent Juliet." Wise at one moment and unwise at the next, Bouci- cault could have been a greater man had he not been so successful when he was successful. The very fact that he could defy failure with immediate success made him obstinately opinionated, and though his advice was at most times practical and of the very best, what he told one day at rehearsal might the next day be reversed. There was great instability in the character of Dion Boucicault. 124 His first act when he reached America was accom- "C^bC plished in the face of contrary advice from friends, yxrurrinsit^fei He kept his marriage a secret, appearing in public ^^OuClvaUHp with his wife, who was cast as Miss Agnes Robertson on the playbills. Soon he recognized the error of his ways ; he found that his wife did not make any more popular impression than she would have done had she not used her maiden name. So, one evening in Boston, Mr. Boucicault came upon the stage and an- nounced that he was the husband of Miss Robertson, and idle talk was set at rest. Mrs. Dion Boucicault, of Scotch descent, was bom in Edinburgh, December 25, 1833. She was only eleven years of age when she began to sing in public, and during 1851 she joined Mr. and Mrs. Charles Kean's company, playing Nerissa in their produc- tion of "The Merchant of Venice" ; so, too, she filled many juvenile roles. She was a ward of the Keans, and her marriage with Boucicault was not ap- proved by them; indeed, so strenuously was it op- posed, some think, that the young couple went off and settled the question for themselves. They came to New York via Montreal, and on October 22, 1853, Mrs. Boucicault appeared as Maria in "The Young Actress." Mr. Boucicault's American debut was made at the New York Broadway Theatre on Novem- ber 10, 1854, when he played Sir Charles Coldstream in "Used Up." The same year, Joseph Jefferson was managing John T. Ford's theatre in Richmond, Vir- ginia, and he engaged Edwin Forrest and Mr. and Mrs. Boucicault to come to him. Professionally, the success of these last was closely associated. Despite the fact that she was constantly appearing in Philadelphia, and that she toured also throughout the United States, it was in New York that Agnes Robertson won her warmest favors. And if there had been any opposition on the part of the Keans to her husband, it had subsided sufficiently by 125 sLlJt 1855 for Boucicault to write a drama, "Louis XI," ISDlICtC^ltlt^ ^" which Charles Kean made a success. Previously a " similar play had been conceived by W. R. Markwell, but the Boucicault drama was the one afterward used by Edwin Booth and Henry Irving; even the dramatist himself essayed to play the part of the French monarch. Boucicault, referring to Irving in 1883, spoke truly : "He resembles absinthe. Some people make faces at his acting, at first, but the taste grows upon you and at last becomes an eager appetite." Irving had, when almost unknown, appeared in Boucicault's "Hunted Down." Critics were warm in their praise of Mrs. Bouci- cault's Jessie Brown, when her husband's drama, "The ReUef of Lucknow," was given at Wallack's Theatre on February 22, 1858; they applauded her Dot in a version of "The Cricket on the Hearth," with Jefferson as Caleb Plummer. The performance occurred at the Winter Garden on September 4, 1859. It is a curious instance of the indirect way in which Boucicault reached out and took his material, that he based his play on a dramatization of the Dickens book, which had been done by two French- men, and called by them "Le Marchand d'En- fants"; he was not aware of the story's existence until afterward. There seems at a certain period of stage history to have been a perfect influx of Dickens dramatiza- tions, even as Scott, during an earlier era, was tum- bled promiscuously on the boards. The novelists were rich in their characterizations, which were all hu- man, and at the same time placed in situations that appealed to the dramatic instinct of Boucicault. He soon had made a play from "Nicholas Nickleby," and in November, 1859, when Jefferson created so successfully the role of Newman Noggs, Mrs. Bouci- cault's Smike was accounted "terribly tearful," the 126 audience becoming enthusiastic over the pathos of '^hf the picture. With what the papers described as the -^ , prettiest of ballad voices, which gave forth a serene ^OUCtCflUltjBf melody, imruffled by artificial trills, she again made an impression as Jeanie Deans in a dramatization of "The Heart of Mid-Lothian," presented at Laura Keene's Theatre on January 9, i860. She was also the original Zoe in "The Octoroon" (December 5, 1859), and Eily O'Connor in "The Colleen Bawn" (March 29, i86o). This latter piece is theatric and devoid of true psy- chology, yet it has the typical heart-interest. The ideas of cast, the disappointed but faithful lover, the villanous solicitor, the suspicions and misrepresen- tations that are as a pebbly bed to the course of true love — these all lack intellectual consistency, but to the eye they lend color, and to the illusion they add excitement and stimulation. Though this play is regarded as a type of the famous Irish dramas written by Boucicault, it was not original in plot ; it was founded upon a novel by Gerald GriflSn, called "The Collegians." It followed his "Vanity Fair," which, produced by Laura Keene, proved to be a failure ; the actress had thereupon turned in distress to the dramatist. "What have you to put in its place?" she had queried. "Nothing," came the reply. But that night Bouci- cault stopped at a bookstore and purchased the above-mentioned volume, which he read from cover to cover through the early morning. Then he wrote in all haste to Miss Keene : My dear Laura: I have it! I send you seven steel en- gravings of scenes around Killarney. Get your scene- painter to work on them at once. I also send a book of Irish melodies, with those marked I desire Baker to score for the orchestra. I shall read act one of my new Irish play on Friday ; we rehearse that while I am writ- ing the second, which will be ready on Monday; and we 127 '(2I^h0 rehearse the second while I am doing the third. We can , ^ get the play out within a fortnight. BOUdCaUUfJ Yours, D. B. Writing, adapting, and translating four hundred plays in about forty-nine years, Boucicault was of necessity a rapid worker, and since a large number of these pieces found quick production, he and his wife did not have far to look in order to procure a wide range of roles. But his characters made small de- mand upon subtlety. Active romance and feeling, cut after the same pattern, may, under all external con- ditions, be depicted by the same methods. Boucicault, despite his cosmopolitanism, was at the same time an Irishman, and his sentiment of locality was always his strong stand-by. There was a reminiscent touch to every phase of his work — both his morality and his immorality were tinged with the sentiment and pa- thos of external influence. His characters had little internal communings. From i860 to 1872 Mr. and Mrs. Boucicault remained in England, and on their return to America they re- peated, at Booth's Theatre (September, 1872), some of their former successes. In 1879 Mrs. Boucicault retired from the stage. During this time the playwright was unceasing in his work, and plays rolled from his pen in rapid succes- sion. This was not enough for an active temperament ; Boucicault entered the field of theatrical manage- ment. As early as 1859 he had formed a partnership with William Stuart, and the two had presented Jef- ferson at the Winter Garden in repertoire ; then in 1862 Astley's Circus in London was renamed the Westminster, and here Boucicault produced under his own business direction "The Heart of Mid-Lo- thian" (January 26, 1863). There is an interesting point connected with this experiment. The theatre was situated in a part of the 128 town not frequented by the upper class; to reach the ^\^t place, Westminster Bridge had to be crossed. It is '^t^nilcfCflUlt^ always the case that when a house becomes associ- '*'^Wl*»'l»^^**'P ated in the public mind with a certain " genre " of drama, and when it has created its own class of au- dience, it is difficult to alter the impression by sub- stituting another type of play and attracting a different class. But this is what the Boucicault cam- paign attempted, and by the time "Mazeppa" was announced on the bills, the fashionable world was crossing the bridge to see it. Boucicault aimed to win the popular taste; he was often heard to say that he preferred fifty-cent audi- ences to any other, since they came for legitimate amusement, and did not look upon the theatre as a kind of interlude — an indispensable accessory to din- ner-parties. Nor did he hesitate to proclaim, whenever opportunity presented itself, that the drama was being kept decent only through the sincerity of this fifty-cent body. Under his own direction, Boucicault presented "The Colleen Bawn" at Drury Lane (circa 1862), after he had severed his connection with Benjamin Webster, who owned the Adelphi. The misunderstanding which existed between these two very nearly pre- vented the first production of "Rip Van Winkle" which Jefferson was to give later. The version of the play had just been completed by Boucicault and handed over to the actor v/ho was under the manage- ment of Webster. Boucicault and he, on account of their differences, were not on speaking terms, and so when Jefferson assembled his company to read them the manuscript of the play neither the author nor the manager was present. However, the time arrived v/hen the company was more than "letter perfect" and Jefferson finally prevailed upon Bouci- cault to attend a rehearsal. As soon as the playwright entered the theatre, however, his old grievances 129 '^l^C against Webster welled up, and he overflowed in <-♦ .j^jY^I-i|.^ abuse of the owner of the Adelphi. "Webster's man- iDuUvlkaUlip agement cannot compare with mine," cried Bouci- cault, tapping his cane on the floor. He was an- noyed by some little discrepancies in stage detail. As was natural, the company became incensed at this breach of etiquette, and from behind the cur- tain of one of the boxes, where Webster lay con- cealed, undefined sputterings of rage could be heard. The crusty old manager left the house, and wrote Jefferson post-haste that under no condition could he allow one of Boucicault's dramas to be acted at his theatre ; that only if Jefferson saw fit to substitute one of the many other versions of the legend could "Rip Van Winkle" be mounted on the boards of the Adelphi at the time stipulated. It is testimony to Jefferson's good-will and diplomacy that the matter was sufficiently overlooked to allow the performance to proceed on the evening originally set. Covent Garden Theatre was once the scene of Bou- cicault's extravagancies (1872). In partnership with Lord Londesborough, who rented the house, he pre- pared a spectacular, "Babil and Bijou," into which money was thoughtlessly poured. The production was not a great financial success, though some regarded it with favor artistically. Special musical features were prepared, and the choruses outrivalled any- thing of the kind ever heard before. Boucicault knew well how to spend other people's money — and he was equally as lavish with his own when he had it. In considering these many plays, it must not be for- gotten that two dates of production should always be associated with each, since the dramatist was equally popular in America and Great Britain, For that rea- son, his views upon the interrelation of English and American dramas were regarded significantly and were given close attention at the time they were uttered. He had cause to think conditions fair! 130 ".It — ■.<; i*'^' 4 ** *>■ ^'-i '^S-^ '.^9. -'*«• '4kf. . «*• «** <*^ *t*/ «** 4^ ♦: THE BOUCICAULT POSTER Very scarce and imiL-h coveted by collectors. Green border. 2) x i; inches While in England during that period between i860 '^l^t and 1872, Boucicault was intimately associated with '%i$f^*«^rf|.;i««Tf'tf Charies Reade, the novelist, who was as interested in ioOUUvaUllp the drama as was Charles Dickens, his popular contemporary. But Reade occupied a unique posi- tion in respect to his own books ; he was dramatizer as well as writer. In collaboration with Boucicault, he prepared a drama in 1867 from "Foul Play"; it was not only a failure, but it resulted in another accusation of plagiarism which followed close upon its presenta- tion. This attack Reade wholly denounced, and it is clearly seen that the public suspicion fell, not upon the noveUst, but upon the playwright. The matter is fully considered in "Readiana," and excerpts produced from "Le Porte-Feuille Rouge," which was the bone of contention — the French model which was more than a "model." Afterward, Reade m.ade another dramatic version imder the title "The Scuttled Ship." When that novelist was dramatizing "It's Never Too Late to Mend," he let Boucicault have the manu- script; a short while passed and a letter arrived from Dublin : MY DEAR Reade : I have read your drama *'N. T. L. T. M." There is in it a very effective piece, but, like the nut within both husk and shell, it wants freedom, ist. It will act five hours as it stands. 2d. There are scenes which injure dramatically others which follow. 3d. There are two characters you are fond of (I sup- pose), but can never be played. I mean Jacky and the Jew. 4th. The dialogue wants weeding. It is more in weight than actors — as they breed them now — can carry. Total. If you want to make a success with this drama, you must consent to a depleting process to which Shy- lock's single pound of flesh must be a mild transaction. Have you the courage to undergo the operation? I am afraid you have not. Ever yours, DION BOUCICAULT. ^\)^ Here was a man who reached his dramatic theories , through practical experience. His character was such i3OUClCdUlt0 as to ignore advice unless it was the kind he himself most desired; his success inculcated within him an assurance which reacted upon him and made him con- ceited. His productions are hastily built, but they are examples of stage ingenuity, and out of them he hewed those principles which it profits every play- wright to follow. Let us repeat: Boucicault grew in his mechanism, but the limits of his intellect kept him from becoming great. He wrote to please, he wrote for effect — two essential characteristics of the stagecraftsman. But he denied the accusation that he was ignorant of the history of the drama and its established rules of dramatic composition. He under- stood his craft and the craft of his predecessors, and his essay on "The Art of Dramatic Composition" is worthy of minute analysis. As a reader of plays he was quick to grasp the essential construction. He wrote : The essence of a rule is its necessity : it must be reason- able and always in the right. The unities of time and place do not seem to be reasonable and have been violated with impunity, therefore are not always in the right. The liberty of imagination should not be sacri- ficed to arbitrary restrictions and traditions that lead to dulness and formality. Art is not a church; it is the philosophy of pleasure. Once back in America, Boucicault dominated things theatrical; his name filled dramatic records; his opinions strongly influenced the theatre-going public. He lectured on the art of acting — a practical actor himself; he criticised managerial systems — him- self a practical manager. He preached how plays should be v/ritten — a practical playwright ; and when one of his own pieces was put on, he saw to it that each person in the cast v/as a part of the picture. He wrote, adapted, translated — v/hatever word you 132 care to apply — up to the very day of his death he did 'dTh^ not cease to contrive and to produce. " Blinded by an unaccountable tide of feeling, and re- 1150UCtC8lUltj3 gardless, as was his nature ever to be, of every one and everything, the impulsive Boucicault, in 1883, married Louise Thomdyke, a member of his company. His second wife was granted a separation in 1888. Thereafter, though he continued to compose persist- ently, the dramatist's powers waned. He became director of A. M. Palmer's School of Acting (Madison Square Theatre) and all the time he was made to feel that favor was sUpping from him. PubUc opinion weighed him down more than he had anticipated, and in consequence his health rapidly failed. He died in New York on September 18, 1890, with only a few friends to render service to the dead. The summary of Dion Boucicault's life is a peculiar one ; he was more impulsive than he was thoughtful, yet he was thoughtful ; he was quicker to see effect in others and to assimilate it than he was original, yet no man could lay claim to more practical originality ; he was extravagant and headstrong, yet he was kind of heart. He had a fund of knowledge and his dra- matic instinct made use of it. "He was," said the loyal Agnes Robertson, "excessively fond of reading, and he was one of the best-informed men of his time. He was very partial in his tastes to history. John Stuart Mill was his favorite philosopher; Goldsmith he preferred to all the poets, but he enjoyed Keats and Shelley also. He was well versed in ths Bible, and I have often heard him in discussion with his brother William regarding the interpretation of texts which have been battled over by the theologians through the ages." Boucicault was quick to lay hold of the events of the moment and to incorporate them in his dramas; in- stance "The Relief of Luckaow" and "The Octo- roon." In its way the latter was quite as effective, ^33 '^\\C controversially, as "Uncle Tom's Cabin." Yet Bouci- _, - - cault only made use of American topics as stage ac- iDOUCtCallitp cessories. Even as a manager tries to find out what the pubUc Ukes to see, as opposed to what the pubUc Ukes to think, and then employs a dramatist to make him a play along the Unes of least resistance, so Bou- cicault saw what was wanted, and fitted his idea to the picture. Though closely identified with the history of Ameri- can drama, he was himself an Irishman, both in sentiment and in appearance. His sense of humor shone genial in his plays, and as to the man person- ally, he was jovial in company and a moving spirit. His banter was pleasant and not in the least offen- sive, and he would say things in a broad brogue that came naturally. He knew well how to use the blarney stone, for he was ever ready to be agreeable. As an Irishman, Boucicault was willing to stand by his remarks. A play of his was once staged called "Suil-a-Mor," and it brought down upon him the wrath of the English because of certain direct utter- ances expressed against the home government. A hue and cry was quickly raised and Boucicault was asked to eliminate the passages. "No," said the dramatist, "I mean just exactly what the lines convey. Rather than sacrifice my opinion, I'll withdraw the piece." This he did not have to do. But as an Irishman Boucicault could not see his country in perspective with the student's eye. Though he wrote papers on the social conditions — on the class struggles that were existing there, his opinions were based upon a personal feeling rather than upon an actual realization of the social problem. His argu- ments were often sweeping for a man to make, espe- cially one who in the public eye was to be subjected to close attention and close scrutiny by students. While his interest in the v/elfare of Ireland resulted in pubUc utterances and in occasional pamphlets 134 and references to be found in his plays, Boucicault fj^t*^ was too much absorbed in his theatrical interests to ^^^ devote any definite time to the subject. It was once 'li30UCtCEUlt)2{ suggested that he strongly desired a seat in ParUa- ment; then rumor actually said that an Irish con- stituency had been offered him; but if such was the case, the playwright was wise enough never to consider it. "By nature," he said, "I am intended for the drama, and for nothing else." At the time of his death Boucicault was at work upon a dramatization of Bret Harte's "The Luck of Roar- ing Camp." His biographers will have a difficult task in tabulating his activity, yet no account would be considered complete that did not enimierate some of the best known of his plays. "Arrah-na-Pogue," produced in London on March 22, 1865, belongs to the "Shaughraun" class; it was translated into French under the title of "Jean la Poste, or Les Noces Irlandaises" and played in Paris (1866) for one hundred and forty nights. In his own play, "Kerry" (1871), Boucicault acted "as if inspired by the genius of all that is great in Irish poetry, history, and romance." The following year he made a dramatization of Bulwer's "Night and Morning," and then came "Led Astray" (1873). "Robert Emmet" (1884) is still familiar. They all had their runs, some failures, others successes — every one theatrical. There are few of us to-day who will have an opportunity of seeing "Belle Lamar," "Faust and Marguerite," "Love in a Maze," "Hunted Down," or "Formosa" ; occasionally there are reviv- als of "London Assurance" and "The Corsican Brothers." But when you have seen one, you have found the key to them all. Boucicault never liked the criticism of sameness which was so often applied to his work. Still the relationships are very close, for organically these pieces move with the same rhythm, they flour- 135 Cl)C ish upon the same humcr and pathos, they commit the same ravishing absurdities; one feels like ex- 'BOUnCaUlt^ claiming with George William Curtis, "Ah, had the painter only taken more pains!" The same writer said : "The charm and the defence of the 'Shaugh- raun' are those of *Rip Van Winkle' — they are its humanizing character and influence. . . . What is the 'Shaughraun' but a jocund Irish 'Rip,* or *Rip* but a 'Shaughraun' of the Catskills?" We are often able to judge of a man by the estimate he makes of himself. Boucicault was not one to hide his talents under a bushel; he knew when to pro- claim them from the housetops. Perhaps he was thrust into his rapid gait of work by the existing conditions of the dramatic copyright law which, in America up to 1856, did nothing to protect the author. It was in 1856 that Congress decided the author did have the rights to his own brain efforts, the right of production and the right to grant per- mission, without which it would be a legal offence to produce his plays. In France Boucicault had seen the dramatists prospering with a royalty system; for years he too fought for the same opportunity, and only succeeded finally by openly defying the Dramatic Authors' Society in England, and the managers in the United States. This he proceeded to do circa i860 by sending forth more than one company in his own plays, and taking a proper commission for himself from the proceeds of each performance. Boucicault, indeed, by these travelling companies of his, was instrumental in hastening the decline of the old stock system. In 1866 he preached his ideas to the French, who greeted them favor- ably, and by 1872 the United States had accepted them. The royalty system was insisted upon by Boucicault after dire experience. V/ritiag in 1879 he said : 136 Cl^e To the commercial manager we owe the introduction of the burlesque, opera-bouffe, and the reign of buf- foonery. We owe to him also the deluge of French '^flficfcatllt^ plays that set in with 1842, and swamped the English ■*i^*' *♦*'»*'***♦♦*■?' drama of that period. For example : the usual price re- ceived by Sheridan Knowles, Bulwer, and Talfourd at the time for their plays was £500. I was a beginner in 1841, and received for my comedy, "London Assur- ance," ;^300. For that amount the manager bought the privilege of playing the work for his season. Three years later I offered a new play to a principal London theatre. The manager offered me £100 for it. In reply to my objection to the smallness of the sum, he remarked : "I can go to Paris and select a first-class comedy; hav- ing seen it performed, I feel certain of its effect. To get this comedy translated will cost me £25. Why should I give you ;£300 or £500 for your comedy, the success of which I cannot feel so assured?" The argument was unanswerable, and the result inevitable. I sold a work for ;£ioo that took me six months' hard work to compose, and accepted a commission to translate three French plays at ;^5o apiece. This work afforded me child's play for a fortnight. Thus the English dramatist was obliged either to relinquish the stage altogether or to become a French copyist. "The Shaughraun" was played in London on Novem- ber 6, 1875, having been first produced at Wallack's Theatre on November 14, 1874. The ease with which Boucicault could shift his point of view is here ex- hibited. Lester Wallack had commissioned him to write a play, but before it was completed another drama, more suited to his talents, had been pur- chased. So he went to Boucicault, who had advanced some way in the mapping out of "Boyne Water," and laid the case before him. "I'll tell you what I'll do," suggested the ever - ingenious playwright, "I'll change the period of the piece, and, taking certain scenes from this manuscript, I'll build up a wholly different drama." The evolution resulted in the char- acter of Con, lovable, poetic, and picturesque. Boucicault was never to be outdone, whatever the circumstances. So intent was he during the rehearsals 137 ■^hC of "The Shaughraun" regarding the other characters '^\XfMtf4rfntH-ei ^^ *^^ ^^^* ^^^* °° *^^ opening night, when he reached J^0UClCa-UU9 the theatre, he suddenly realized that he had wholly forgotten to pick himself out a costume for Con. So he rushed to the property room, and on with an old coat that had done service for Tony Lumpkin, and on with an old cap belonging to that same in- dividual! Grabbing an odd pair of boots from a discarded chest — and he was ready! But disasters came thick and fast on this occasion. The second act called for a moon ; just as the scene was about to begin, the stage orb exploded, and when the curtain rose the audience was amazed to find a black hole where the moon should have been. A burst of laugh- ter showed their further appreciation of a slip in stage-management, for silver ripples quivered on the water — a case of moonlight with the moon left out. In retrospect Boucicault once said : When "The O'Dowd" was written ten years ago [1872], I perceived that the character belonged rather to high comedy-drama than to melodrama. It occurred to me also that the Irish character had been associated with plays of a low sensational class, and that an effort to raise the whole edifice of our national drama might be made. In this spirit, "Suil-a-Mor" was written as a pure sentimental comedy, with a strong emotion for a spinal column. As a literary work, it therefore may rank more highly than the "Shaughraun" or the "Col- leen Bawn," because it does not depend on scenery or on sensational, or we may say, physical effects, but rather invites the attention and engages the emotion of the audience by its human sufferings, and its develop- ment of character and passion. I think so far as dia- logue goes, the best writing to be found in these plays is in "Arrah-na-Pogue." Dion Boucicault presents a diversified picture — one to be condemned and to be admired. He was too successful to be professionally jealous, and we find him befriending Henry Irving, Robertson, Byron, and 138 I- _J D < O D O O Q Q 2 < < Z UJ a: CQ Taylor. As a friend, he became an ardent supporter '^hZ of Oscar Wilde, when that neurotic poet made his /^>rttfrtfTf-ci visit to America in 1882, and he was also foremost in ^OuClCplUHp his encouragement of Sadie Martinot, bringing her over to appear in his plays. So active was Boucicault in every line connected with the stage that his pro- lixity became a joke among his associates. He was the wonder of the hour, and he posed as such. Boucicault has left his impress upon the development of drama, and his name is an important one in its history. But few of his plays bear the permanent elements that will preserve them for the next century. He was original, if by that word we mean that he was entertaining ; otherwise he was clever — a cleverness based upon his gift of dialogue, however imitative, and his knowledge of stagecraft. Mr. Vance Thomp- son's estimate is fair : He gave his age what it wanted. ... He was a drama- turgical matador. . . . The Boucicault drama is dead; any discussion of it is in the nature of an autopsy. Its most notable quality was its gayety — its fine animal spirits. It was merry and clean. Of the Boucicault children, Dion WilUam (bom in New Orleans) was killed in an English railroad acci- dent ; both Eva (bom in New York) and Nina (bom in London) were on the stage, Eva inheriting the play- wright's talents in a slight degree ; at one time she adapted a play for Lester Wallack. Patrice, the only one of the family not to go on the stage, was lame. The two most familiar to present-day theatre-goers are George Darley (bom in New York) and Aubrey Robertson (bom in London). The former, now known as Dion, early in his career managed two theatres in Melbourne and in Sydney, Australia, there presenting and acting in some of his father's plays. For the past years he has remained in London, appearing in such pieces as R. C. Carton's "Lady Huntworth's Exper- 139 taiU iment," Captain Marshall's "A Royal Family," and -j^ Pinero's "Trelawny of the Wells." At present he is JoOUClCdUltjo one of the most successful of Charles Frohman's stage-managers. Aubrey Boucicault, closely identified with the New York stage, has himself written three plays : "The Favorite," "Budgets," and "Court Scandal," with which Seymour Hicks attracted attention for two hundred evenings. But Mr. Boucicault is not so much a producer as he is an actor, one of varied abilities. His first appearance was on March ii, 1887, while Kate Claxton was presenting "The Two Orphans" in St. Louis. He next went to London, where he received valuable training for five years under Charles Wynd- ham. Then he returned to America, and in quick succession was in the support of Stuart Robson, Richard Mansfield, and Charles and Rose Coghlan. - As Gratiano in "The Merchant of Venice," which was sumptuously presented by Mr. N. C. Goodwin and Miss Maxine Elliott, he showed spirit, while his performance of Paolo in Mr. Otis Skinner's re- vival of Boker's "Francesca da Rimini" was full of grace and romance. Mr. Boucicault is versatile ; his work is earnest and pleasing. He has acted in Shake- speare ; he has played the Boucicault drama ; he has helped sing in the lightest operetta. Because of this versatility, he has fluctuated between cor^edy, trag- edy, farce, and vaudeville. Since the actor's opportunity is fleeting, it is well to aim at intensity rather than diversity, for general excellence passes with the hour. We estimate a man retrospectively by his virility, by his right to stand alone. The actors of the past towered above their companies. Is it that the absence of a stock system — of a repertoire regime— has done away with the tragedian, the comedian, and has given us only the actor? For the sons of their fathers are laboring under difficulties in a day that seeks variety. 140 VI— THE HACKETTS M) 4) a 2 a CO PQ H (J O >— I o o o o 3 eS on a> ni a 4) T3 a o u n M V a) K ■a 3 a n M) 01 a 2 A A 60 M 3 3 0] 0] •o •3 o (» i o • 4iJ s s .2 eS O 0) H 3 aa- 3 -«^ s se £ C( 3 l-S 3 60 s e>c V 3 M «3 u « « ij— o w .g d ^ •§ .3 •^ ••-* <« Q ^^ o> »-i 00 "3 a o 60 .a u m 3 a ■a 3 e o 3 4) ki O 3 e9 <3 2(2 ■go «i u c2 Sm 3) 0) O ■' jajo |S 3? •"ft oxd (^ ja .S ca J3 , OS ag& * ;a VI-THE HACKETTS N 1066, when William the Con- queror came over the channel with his valiant Norman knights, one Baron Hackett was fore- most among them, and for his trusty service on the field of Hastings he was given posses- sion of large tracts of land. In token whereof his name was graven on the honor-roll of Battle Abbey. The titles thus received descended from generation to genera- tion, and during the reign of Henry II Dominus Paganus de Hackett followed the English king into Ireland, where further lands and seigniories were given to him. These were held by the Barons Hackett for many a year, and several members of the family sat in the House of Parliament. Their feudal rank, however, lost prestige during the last century. In mere glory of title, it could have been rightly claimed by James H. Hackett, had he wished it, but he was essentially American in his ideas and had no use for it. Still on another side could this family boast of noble distinction. When Edmund Hackett, who was the great-grandfather of the present representative, married, he was living in Amsterdam, Holland, and took to wife a daughter of Baron de Massau; their son was Thomas G. Hackett, to whom America is directly indebted for an invigorating force in her dramatic history. For some time he served in the Life Guards of the Prince of Orange, where he held the rank of lieutenant. But his health became shat- tered, and the better to regain it, he decided to set sail for America, drawn there probably by the vigor manifest in a growing and a lately victorious nation. His family distinction gained him immediate admit- tance to the best of New York society. In 1799 he married a daughter of the Rev. Abraham Keteltas, of 143 '2Dl)C Jamaica, Long Island, a prominent divine during l^^srh^f-fd *^^ Revolution—" the fighting parson" he was famil- l^atlu lip iarly called. The newly-married couple settled in New York, and they were living at 72 William Street when their son, the future actor, was bom on March 15, 1800. The husband died in 1803, and Mrs. Hack- ett and her child returned to the Long Island home. Through the Keteltas alliance the Hacketts became indirectly connected with the Duanes, Beekmans, Roosevelts, De Peysters, and others well known in New York annals. For ten years young James Henry went to the Union Hall Academy on Long Island, where he was thor- oughly grounded in Greek and Latin, as all boys were in those days of austere but culture-giving studies. Then at the age of fifteen he entered Columbia Col- lege, where he began an extensive classical course; this was unfortunately interrupted by severe illness, in fact, he had to abandon it altogether. But he had acquired during these years a certain accuracy of expression very evident in whatever statements came from his pen in after-life. When he was scarcely twelve years old, Hackett claims that his attention was absorbed in a minute study of "Macbeth." It is the only intimation of his serious attention being thus early drawn to the stage as a profession, though he often amused his friends with imitations which were considered excellent. His preliminary education developed in him a criti- cal insight that often limited him when he came to act a Shakespearian role. After recovering his health Hackett bethought him of the law, and so, under the direction of General Robert Bogardus, he began his reading. This should have been carried on systematically, and would have been, no doubt, had not the young man's mind wan- dered elsewhere, refusing to become centred on Coke and Blackstone. 144 JAMES H. HACKETT, AS FALSTAFF Somewhere there is a slight reference to Hackett's W,h^ appearance during this year of 1816, in a small part «^ v. at a theatre in Newark, New Jersey. Certainly his f^BCfiCtt^ future life as a lawyer did not seem congenial in his eyes. So, in 1817, he entered the grocery-store of a relative, A. K. Fish, and he remained in trade for many years. The power of mimicry which he possessed naturally suggests his having been a theatre-goer. In 1819 he saw both Wallack and T. A. Cooper play Hamlet. He was fast becoming a Shakespearian scholar, and he most likely went to see Shakespeare acted when- ever he could — counting many of his friends among the members of the profession. For he met and mar- ried in that same year (1819) a popular actress of the period, Catharine Lee Sugg. She had a pleasant contralto voice, and she was commendable in her straight character parts. Soon after the wedding Hackett, in April, 1820, settled in Utica, New York, where he lived until 1825. Here he engaged in the grocery business, and because there was a market for crockery he added all kinds of such ware to his stock. He increased his capital by borrow- ing from a cousin, John Beekman, and by 1825 he had accumulated sufficient money from his profits to pay his debts and to turn toward New York again. The lady he had married was bom in 1798, and through her talents had won for herself the distinc- tion, as early as 1805, of being called the Infant Roscius. In 1818, on September ist, she made her American d^but, arriving direct from the Birming- ham Theatre. "Her forte," according to Ireland, "was comedy; her merry, romping country lasses have never since been equalled, and her chamber- maids were almost as meritorious." The only de- scription we have of her is contained in this jingle which was penned by one of her stanch sup- porters : 145 Cl)e There's sweet Miss Lee Sugg— by-the-by, she's not pretty; She's a little too large, and has not too much grace; Yet there's something about her so witching and witty, 'Tis pleasure to gaze on her good-humored face. Retiring just after her marriage, Mrs. Hackett was forced to return to the stage in 1826 on account of her husband's pecuniary difficulties. Again, in 1832, she retired, her last play being "Of Age To-morrow." But once more she had to resume her stage duties, and on May 19, 1838, she performed in "Perfection," with her sister, Mrs. Sharp. Mrs. Hackett died in Jamaica on December 4, 1845, leaving one son, John K. Hackett, who for many years was Recorder in the City of New York. Innumerable anecdotes are told of him, all indicating a strenuous kind of humor, more startling than subtle. His connection with the theatre is instanced by Prof. Brander Matthews, in the following notice : Happy New Year, 1875. Grand entertainment at the Sing Sing Prison, to commence at 8 A.M. . . . N. B. Tickets of admission may be had at the Court of Gen- eral Sessions. John K. Hackett, Manager. No extra charge for reserved seats. To return to the career of our American comedian. When, in 1825, he left Utica and came to New York, he lived at 23 Broadway, investing all his money in a speculative venture, which failed him very unexpect- edly. To a man of Hackett's integrity this disaster was hard to face ; but his friends came to his assist- ance, and he was not one to give way before external circumstances. Yet those were the days when it was the fashion to imprison for debt. Hackett and his wife now turned to the stage ; the former decided to put his amateur talents to a practical test. So, on March i, 1826, the two made their appearance to- gether in "Love in a Village," Hackett's first role 146 being Justice Woodcock. By some the attempt was "^hz considered creditable, though the actor himself was ja «^ ^ obliged to confess that he was abashed on the open- ^^CRCttjcJ ing night, but rallied and made a hit the next. So perceptible was the stage-fright to many who were present that not a few of his well-wishers advised him never again to go on the boards, but to look else- where for occupation. However, Hackett persisted. At his wife's benefit, on March loth, he assumed a part, Sylvester Dagger- wood, introducing striking imitations of Kean, Math- ews, Hilson, and Barnes, actors familiar to theatre- goers. He followed this with many dialect roles, French and German among them, and thereby estabhshed the fact of his versatiUty. The drama moves in cycles ; it is imitative ; to-day we are being deluged with Indian plays, as a few years ago we were sated with musi- cal comedies, which were not sufficiently unUke to be distinctive. When, in June, 1826, Hackett pre- sented the Yankee story of "Jonathan and Uncle Ben," he found the field of American impersonators well supphed with excellent character players. The American overran the stage in every form, from pioneer to farmer, from Indian to negro. But Hackett himself was warmly commended, and soon after appeared as Morbleau in "Monsieur Tonson." His first decided recognition came when, as one of the Dromios in "The Comedy of Errors" (October, 1826), he played vis-a-vis with Barnes, who saw himself aped by his associate to a startling degree; every motion, every intonation of the voice, every Uttle vagary in costume, was so well studied as to defy detection. Such acting was exhilarating ; it con- tained all the zest of a good game of hide-and-seek ; it was only to be equalled by the Drew brothers in the same play. This success, while encouraging, did not entirely please Hackett. He was like so many of his contemporaries who arrived at the parting of 147 the ways ; he was unsettled between his natural tal- ents as a comedian on the one hand, and his strong taste for tragedy on the other. The old perverted adage, "When in doubt — don't!" was not heeded by Hackett. In December, 1826, on the eve of saiUng for England, he appeared as Richard III, a role played in imitation of Edmund Kean, But add to this his preconceived notions of the piece, reached through careful study, and the reasons are not far to find why the impression he made was not a deep one. He proceeded across the ocean, and on the night of April i, 1827, he acted before a Covent Gar- den audience, giving his Yankee stories and various imitations; these they seemed to like, but they did not relish his portraits of Macready and Kean, which he added to his programme. His stay was a very short one. Some would assert this to be caused by the fact that he was an American, one of the first, if not indeed the first, to make his d€but on the English stage as a star. In September of the same year, he was again at the New York Park Theatre in "Richard III" (September 5, 1827). Barnes took a benefit soon after, and Hackett was cast in a farce, "Two Sosias," adapted from Dryden's "Amphitryon." During the season of 1827-28 Othello, lago, Gloster in "Jane Shore," Paris in "The Roman Actor," Montmorency in the "Hundred Pound Note," and Tristram Fickle in "Weathercock" (a two-part comedy), constituted his varied repertoire. At this time Hackett was himself growing critical of his own work, and he wrote : I studied and attempted to act Shakespeare's lago, but although I was received encouragingly at the . . . theatre, a few times, and favorably reported by the press, I found it not attractive ; and though the result confirmed me in the correctness of the conception I had formed after an elaborate study, I was by no means satisfied with my own personation. 148 Cl^e Against his own statement that Falstaff was for the first time played by him in Philadelphia, on May 31, 1832, to Charles Kean's Hotspur, is often recorded i^BCfiCttjSJ the disputed date. May 13, 1828, But though actors care Uttle for exact dates, Hackett was too precise in any statement he ever made to commit an error of this kind. 1832 it must have been. He and Kean were then starring on alternate nights at the Arch Street Theatre; and stopping at the same hotel — the Man- sion House was the place of fashion in those days — they often met, and would walk together, convers- ing on topics of mutual interest. On one such occa- sion Kean turned to Hackett. "Have you ever thought of acting Falstaff?" he asked. It so hap- pened that Hackett had spent some time in working over the possibiUties of the character, and he told Kean so. "Good," said the latter, "since that's the case, what do you say to our playing 'Henry IV' to- gether? I've always wanted to try Hotspur, and if the performance can be got ready in a week's time, I'll act with you." Thus it was that Hackett's Falstaff was brought to light, on so hot a day that the poor actor, beneath the rotundity of his make-up, sat breathing heavily from the exertion. The manager watched him intently through the performance ; here was a part that had been studied assiduously, only to find that the inter- pretation of Falstaff v/as not the popular one. But Hackett persisted in the face of his manager's strug- gle to withdraw the play in favor of some other, and by the third evening he felt his audience with him. The more an actor presents a rich role, the maturer his conception will become. In his book of critical remarks, Hackett summed up his ripe estimate of Falstaff as a "philosophic compound of vice and sensuaUty, with no amiable or tolerable quaUty to gloss over his moral deformity," unless it be that wit and humcr are allowed to dominate the interpreta- 149 (LI)C tion. These remarks were enlarged upon in his "Fal- i^^^rftrtfrt staff: a Shakespearian Tract," which was written in t^alai 113 answer to his London critics. In New York, at the John Street Theatre, as early as 1788, Falstaff first pleased American audiences in "The Merry Wives of Windsor" (October 5th); Harper appeared in the role. Then on April i, 1807, at the Old Park, John E. Harwood attempted the part, and later, at the same theatre, on January 15, 1829, Hilson was the next Falstaff. Lustily played at different periods, by Charles Bass, Dwyer, Ben De Bar, John Jack, and by Charles Fisher in Augustin Daly's revival of 1872 and 1886, Hackett remains the Falstaff of America, and if tradition counts in the annals of the American stage, so he shall be identified for many a year. The conditions are not such to-day as to receive a Falstaff with favor. If, in "Henry IV," one agrees with Ireland in calling the coarse EngUsh knight, "the cream of EngUsh wit and humor," it must likewise be remembered that this humor was bom entirely of a low nature. It takes a pecuUar theatre-going public to relish the sensual Sir John and his attitude toward life. The year 1828, though not marked by the production of Falstaff, saw Hackett, on December 3d, in the younger George Colman's comedy, "Who Wants a Guinea?" which the actor materially altered and renamed "Jonathan in England," much to the chagrin of the author. The play was presented with success, for the benefit of Mrs. Hackett. Then fol- lowed the dialect roles of Sir Archy McSarcasm in the farce, "Love a-la-Mode," and Jonathan Plough- boy in Woodworth's comedy, "Forest Rose." It was on April 22, 1830, that Mr. Hackett produced his first dramatic version of "Rip Van Winkle," at the Park Theatre ; the text was afterward altered in London by Bayle Bernard. Mr. Sol. Smith, with a stately manner of expressing emotion peculiar to 150 the time, declared with emphasis his delight in '^hp Hackett's Rip. "I should despair," he said, "of find- ^^ ing a man or woman in an audience of five hundred, l^flCfeCttjS who could hear [his] utterance of five words in the second act, 'But she was mine vrow,' without ex- periencing some moisture in the eyes." In 183 1 James K. Paulding wrote a play for Hackett called "The Lion of the West," in which the character of Colonel Nimrod Wildfire, dressed in buckskin suit and wildcat cap, afforded the actor ample opportu- nity for the portrayal of what the critics of the time wrote as "reckless energy, associated with a love of unbridled fun and frolic." This part was so successful that Bayle Bernard was set to work upon another drama containing the same character, and this was acted under the title "The Kentuckian." In his Yan- kee roles, Hackett stood close second to George H. Hill, who himself was having such popularity that he was famiUarly known as Yankee Hill. In the early part of 1837, Washington Irving and Hackett had a slight correspondence regarding the possibility of a play being drawn from the "Knicker- bocker History." Irving did not seem to be overcon- fident about the plan, but Hackett thought that a public interested in American things would assure success to a drama, which in three scenes devoted each act to a stage -portrait of Wouter Von Twiller, Wilhelmus Kieft, and Peter Stuyvesant. So, with the technical aid of Bayle Bernard, he set to work on "Three Dutch Governors," which, after all the labor expended upon it, proved of little success. The stu- dent's sense of history overweighted the scenes, and the acts themselves, presenting Hackett as identified with three wholly distinct personations, gave no coherency to a central idea, nor allowed of any pro- longed sympathy on the part of the audience. All this time, Hackett's interest in the theatre was not so wholly absorbed that he did not consider seri- 151 "^bC ously returning to the mercantile position he had " previously filled. In 1836 he was on the point of re- l^dCntttjES suming his grocery business, but from every side he was dissuaded ; even those who had aided him during his financial straits advised him against the move for no other reason than his unfitness for the life. How he was regarded by the men who knew him well, and who loved him for his gentlemanly character and for his personal integrity, may best be gleaned from the following, penned in a letter to Hackett by a Mr. Luman Reed : Your nature is too free, frank, and open, to keep closely your own secrets in trade, to selfish advantage. You are too unsuspecting and confiding, to deal with the numerous sharpers that have now crept into our large trading community ; while your disposition is too sanguine and excitable for that coolness and prudence, that circumspection and close calculation, so requisite now-a-days, for an easy, and snug, and regularly pros- perous merchant in New York. There came the year 1840, and with it Hackett's decision to present "King Lear" and "Hamlet." " 'King Lear' is not a popular play with the milUons," he wrote, "because the young, who constitute the great majority of playgoers, are too inexperienced to comprehend the dotage of the aged and tender father, and to sympathize with his consequent affiction." The very year he determined to take this role he saw Forrest in the part. Those were the days when an actor did not hesitate to play Shylock, Hamlet, Othello, or any other of Shakespeare's characters, simply because a "Richmond was in the field." Those were the days when an audience Uked to compare actor with actor in the same role, would go two nights in succession to see "Hamlet" for that pur- pose, and when competition was one of ability rather than of sumptuousness. What Hackett saw in Forrest's Lear, however, was 152 far from his own conception; he was confronted by '^1^0 something stem and forbidding to his mind; some- lAarh^tf^ thing that sprang, so he wrote, from the head, rather i^avnvllp than from the heart. Forrest, while acting, lost him- self in torrents of power; the overflow of energy often hid the spirit by its mere animaUsm. But he was acting — acting in the full absorption of his role, however it lacked the soft humanity and repose of some of his contemporaries. "I act Shylock," he once said, "but I am Lear !" While in New York, Hackett found scant favor in the part; still when he went ever with it to Burton in Philadelphia, he filled the theatre for a week, which fact, he asserted naively, "gave me a strong foothold for tragic promise in that city." Just precisely in proportion to the amount of fire burning in Forrest's conception of the distraught monarch was the amount of exactitude and tender precision put into the part by Hackett. All that For- rest v/as not to his mind, he aimed to be. He disliked Forrest's physical impetuosity, his overstrained rage, his whining pathos, his attempt to hide the beauty of blank verse. When Hackett went to the theatre as a spectator, when he read a play, when he acted — it mattered not which — the student sense was always in the ascendency. He witnessed both Fonest and Macready play Hamlet; the time the former hissed the latter in the part, Hackett was following closely Macready's reading of the Unes, and on the morrow he wrote to the daily papers, send- ing his critical comments on the performance. It is curious to note Wemyss, in his " Recollections " of twenty-sLx years, referring sarcastically to Hackett's attitude toward the drama ; the manager considered this actor nothing more than a poseur, when in real- ity Hackett possessed a thorough knowledge of his Shakespeare, a knowledge which he was sincerely exercising. 153 ^yt A picture rises up before us of the Gentleman of the i^BCfeCttjSJ ^^^c^ Stock, who had Shakespeare at his finger tips, '^ who could quote passages by the page, and who could back with vehemence his set opinions as to what was meant and what was not meant by a particular line. That same period which produced classical scholars of all country gentlemen, especially Southerners, put a Shakespeare by the side of Cicero and Horace. Hackett was such a type, but he added to it all a practical association with the stage. Not many times in the history of the American thea- tre do we detect this combat going on within one man — the combat of actor and critic. Yet there is a feeling that had Hackett been able, during his moments of acting Shakespearian r61es, to forget the theoretical and analytical side of his work, he would have been a greater actor. From early boyhood he had interleaved his "Ham- let" with conmients and text comparisons; as the years advanced the notes became varied and abun- dant; the actor saw them take shape, and with a proper amoimt of pride he showed them to friends, among them to John Quincy Adams. This led to a correspondence which shall be considered later. But Hackett's managers, Edmimd Simpson of the Park, and Burton in Philadelphia, saw advertising ad- vantages in the letters that passed between the ex- President and their "star"; the correspondence had attracted public attention. So, with much trepidation on the part of Hackett, it was decided that he should present "Hamlet." "Mr. Simpson," so the actor wrote, "suggested, urged, and finally persuaded me to impersonate my own conception." As a theatre-goer, it had been Hackett's good fort- une to see nearly all the great figures of the stage. In this role of Hamlet alone, he had witnessed the performances of Cooper, Wallack, Conway, Hamblin, Kean, Young, Macready, Charles Kemble, 154 JAMES K. HACKETT J. B. Booth, John Vandenhoff, Charles Kean, George fTTip Vandenhoff, and Forrest. He not only followed care- ^^'^ fully the work of each of these, but wrote critiques i^^CfeCtt^Sl upon them, all gathered in his book. When I reflected that having never before thought of "acting" Hamlet, there was no time to acquire by practice, which alone makes perfect on the stage, the requisite ease of a gentleman, the dignity of a prince, appropriate action and flexibility of voice, in order to give proper variety to the vehement passions, weight to the declamatory, and poignancy to the spirited and satirical portions, I became frightfully nervous. This dread was somewhat appeased by the assurance from his manager that all would go well, because having played Lear, he had gained a certain compass of voice, and a certain "natural" action for passion- ate scenes. Still Hackett's common sense told him that the one would do little to help the other. Beginning once more his minute comparison of texts with the 1623 folio of the play, Hackett set about his preparation ; not only in pose, accentuation, and shades of meaning did he rehearse at the theatre, but he repeated his "business" all over again, once inside his own room. He was nervous, not for fear as to what the public might say ; but Hackett, the critic, was about to sit in judgment upon the actor; Hack- ett, the actor, trembled, for the critic in him told him that he was by nature a comedian. After sleepless nights, the evening arrived (October 21, 1840 j. Mrs. Wood, who had seconded Kean's Hamlet, once more played Ophelia. And as for Hack- ett's feelings during the progress of the play, "I en- dured a constant and violent palpitation of the heart." Hackett prided himself upon the care and attention given to the scenic effects, especially in that scene with Hamlet's mother, when he forces her to look upon the portraits of the two kings. He noticed dur- 155 Cl^c ing the evening that his work was generally marked "either by mute applause or eloquent approbation," l7BCfeCttjS and on the next day, when he went down to the thea- tre, he was greeted by many friends and congratu- lated ; but no amount of adulation or praise could remove from him the disquieting doubts brought forward by his own critical scrutiny of himself. The actor "received through the box-oflEice of the Park Theatre some verses, in a female hand, signed 'Mi- nerva,' so complimentary that I suspected them as designed for a practical quiz." Besides "Hamlet," Hackett presented on that even- ing the ludicrous piece, "A MiUtia Training," in which he personated a Yankee major, and thereto he added the first act of his ever popular "Ken- tuckian." Burton had faith in the comedian's tragic powers; he believed that a combination of these inevitable parts with his more popular roles would not fail to attract ; so Hackett was booked for a week's engage- ment at the New National, Philadelphia, where the bills contained the following varied announcement : Tuesday. Falstaff, in "The Merry Wives of Windsor." Wednesday. "King Lear" and "The Kentuckian." Thursday. Falstafif, in "Henry IV," Pt. I. Friday. "Hamlet" and "Yankee Solomon Swop." Saturday. "Rip Van Winkle" and "Horse-Shoe Robin- son." Monday. Falstafif, in "Henry IV," Pt. H. The experiment, however, was not a success, and we find Hackett writing that his performances of Hamlet and Lear did not attract nearly as much as his comic characters. And so. Without vexation or regret, I struck them both from my repertoire, and soon thereafter studied and pro- duced Sir Pertinax McSycophant in Macklin's "Man 156 of the World," and also O'Callaghan in Bernard's '2^T1^ farce [written in 1839] of "His Last Legs"; in both of v^y*^ which parts I have been a favorite with every public in J^arfec»ftC{ either hemisphere. ^aiUtU^ That James H. Hackett possessed the student nature, his book "Notes and Comments on Shakespeare," published in 1863, clearly testifies; it indicates pa- tient research and wide reading among critics; it shows stateliness of purpose, and in style it is direct and to the point. Had he set himself assiduously to the task, the actor might have produced a work more worthy and more enlightening. As it is, the volume is interestingly autobiographical, and figured largely in Hackett's social relations. While it may fairly be said that Hackett began writing from the time when, as a mere boy, he used to scribble notes on the margin of his Shakespeare, it was not until the month of January, 1839, when he paid a social rather than a professional visit to Wash- ington, that he began talking about these manu- script comments. He was then introduced to John Quincy Adams, between whom and himself sprang up a warm regard. On this visit, Hackett lent the honored statesman his interleaved "Hamlet." From this courtesy began the correspondence which made many marvel over the fact that so busy a man as Adams was in other lines could develop such aesthetic taste. His first letter was lithographed and distributed in many places ; Adams did not mind ; it was his custom never to write privately what he did not care to trust in print. When Hackett received back his manuscript notes, the ex-President declared to him that "Hamlet" was "the masterpiece of Shakespeare — I had almost said the masterpiece of the human mind." Adams was one of those old Gentlemen of the Black Stock ; he knew his Shakespeare; in fact, so he declared with quaint pride, "my enthusiastic admiration of the in- 157 ^l)C spired (muse inspired) Bard of Avon, commenced in J^ACtirtt^ childhood, before the down had darkened my Hp." ^ *■ ^ Hackett naturally treasured this correspondence, but it never blinded his own views; he differed greatly with Adams on many points, and wrote him so : "Your autograph document shall be treasured in my archives," he said, "but," and there followed a minute analysis of motives. From this time his manu- script travelled far and fast. Philip Hone, ex-Mayor of New York; the Earl of Carlisle (Lord Morpeth), made known to him by his friend Henry Clay ; Wash- ington Irving and James Fenimore Cooper, who both jotted down in pencil whatever impressed them as worthy of special note — these men read Hackett's comments, and much to the actor-author's satisfac- tion, his views were most generally accepted. On his numerous trips abroad, he was in the habit of spending much of his time at the Garrick Club in London, and there he often talked with T. N. Tal- fourd, and together they used to go to the theatre. Talfourd, as well as John Payne Collier, examined the Shakespeare notes and found them penetrating and scholarly. Adams did not simply answer Hackett's letters, or criticise Hackett's notes ; he sent him, in November, 1845, his own remarks on "Othello," "Romeo and JuUet," and "King Lear," contained in a thesis which he called, "Misconceptions upon the Stage," and this was shortly followed by his analytical dis- quisition upon "The Character of Desdemona." The old school of literary critics of the drama had often declared that Shakespeare was not intended for the stage ; that so many hidden subtleties as were in his plays could never be reproduced, but were to appeal purely to the personal spirit of the reader. Hamlet's conscience could not be "shown" by an actor; Lear's mortal anguish could only be represented by an out- ward motion or expression that was far from the 158 mental state. Adams was of this opinion, and it is '^hr more than evident that Hackett, too, thought there ^ was much richness in Shakespeare which the actor's l^clCl^CttjS^ art could never claim. It is true that the stage has to depend greatly upon external situation and gesture, but where there is depth of character, the actor's own personality may enter and absorb the whole meaning of the part, while in tone and expression he can recreate what his fancy and feeUng have extracted. Charles Lamb it was who, in his deUghtful essay on "The Tragedies of Shakespeare," summed up the difficulty in the fact that the poet's men and women contained so much that required meditation. But Elia, theatre-goer as he was, always brought with him the literary estimate of the closet, and it was this closet-view that Adams took, as well as Hackett. With his intimate knowledge of Shakespeare, Hack- ett gave close scrutiny to whatever criticisms of him- self came to his notice. He annotated the press com- ments on his lago, and he also met the objections to his Faistaff by a searching analysis. It was a case of the reviewers reviewed. In his love for Shake- speare, he was typical of that type of reader who v/ould argue the infallibility of the bard on all points. In such a spirit, the actor was prompted to prepare two papers on "The Medical Knowledge of Shake- speare," which provoked discussion, because of their claim that the poet, and not Harvey, was the true discoverer of the circulation of the blood. For were there not sufficient proofs in all the plays to support the claim? Did not a reference to blood coursing "through the natural gate and alleys of our body," found in " Hamlet," for instance, point unmistakably to the true fact? The discussion assumed extensive proportions in the papers, but ended around 1861, though Hackett would not yield his ground in the arguments. One phrase in part of the correspondence 159 ^\y£ serves our purpose, since it suggests the stateliness of ^ ■' the man, where the actor replied to a newspaper let- ]^BCnCtt)Si ter, in which he began by saying : "Having just re- turned after some six weeks' business upon my landed estate in Illinois." On no occasion was Hack- ett lacking in the dignity of the time. When, in 1863, he published in book form his "Notes and Comments on Shakespeare," he sent a presenta- tion copy to Abraham Lincoln, which elicited an in- teresting reply, showing a keen taste on the part of the President. Washington, August 17, 1863. My dear Sir : Months ago I should have acknowledged the re- ceipt of your book and accompanying kind note ; and I now have to beg your pardon for not having done so. For one of my age I have seen very little of the drama. The first presentation of Falstaff I ever saw was yours here, last winter or spring. Perhaps the best compliment I can pay, is to say, as I truly can, I am very anxious to see it again. Some of Shakespeare's plays I have never read ; while others I have gone over perhaps as frequently as any unprofessional reader. Among the latter are "Lear," "Richard III," "Henry VIII," "Hamlet," and especially "Macbeth." I think nothing equals "Macbeth." It is wonderful. Unlike you gentlemen of the profession, I think the soliloquy in "Hamlet" commencing "Oh, my offence is rank," surpasses that commencing "To be, or not to be." But pardon this small attempt at criticism; I should like to hear you pronounce the opening speech of "Richard III." Will you not soon visit Washington again? If you do, please call and let me make your personal acquaintance. Another note following this, reveals a deep phase of Lincoln's character and temperament; it shows the effect slighting comment had upon him. Unfortu- nately, in the excess of pleasure over hearing from the President, Hackett had allowed the letter to be published. 160 Washington, November 2, 1863. Cl^e My note to you I certainly did not expect to see in print; vuy tt/*t-4-ei yet I have not been much shocked by the newspaper t^SCHCttp comments upon it. Those comments constitute a fair specimen of what has occurred to me through life. I have endured a great deal of ridicule without much maUce and have received a great deal of kindness, not quite free from ridicule. I am used to it. During all this time Hackett was amassing a large fortune. He was for many years a manager; when the Boston Howard Athenaeum was built, he as- sumed control; in 1829 he conducted the Chatham Garden Theatre; in 1830, the Bowery; and in 1837, the National (Italian Opera House). When the fa- mous Astor Place riots occurred, and the bitter feud between Macready and Forrest, rival Macbeths, re- sulted in bloodshed and loss of life, Hackett managed the Astor Place Opera House, where the disturbance took place. Five years later, in 1854, he was starring a company of Italian singers at Castle Garden. Despite this close application to business in America, the actor followed his 1826 visit to London by many trips abroad. In 1832 he played at the Hay- market; and then on his return to America retired from the stage for a time. In 1840 he went to Drury Lane, and in 1845, ttie year his wife died, he played at Covent Garden, being invited by Prince Albert to present his French character part. Prince Mallet, at "Windsor Castle. In 1851 he was back at the Hay- market. On March 27, 1864, Mr. Hackett was married a second time, to Clara Cynthia Morgan, and by this union one son was bom, the present James K. Hackett. When, on December 28, 1871, the elder Hackett passed away, at his home in Jamaica, Long Island, he had attained a ripe age, and held the respect of every one ; the papers commented especially on his 161 'i^h^ being an American product. It is an uncommon in- stance : to have an American actor-family begin on t7ilCnCtt0 native soil. As a man, Hackett was of serious intellect and of courteous bearing. In his younger days, he resembled Washington Irving; in his older days, though less leonine, he was the build of Fenimore Cooper. There are two interesting pictures of him extant : one with a romantic dash about it ; the other in frock coat and beaver, with hand in the Webste- rian pose, indicating the dignity of the scholar. But there is still another picture, and it is by this that James H. Hackett is best known, a picture of sly humor — a smile that carries with it, even on paper, the gentle shake of laughter. George William Curtis, with that human discernment which charac- terized all his utterances in the " Easy Chair," found fault with the actor's playing of Falstafif ; to him, the conception was devoid of unctuousness ; it was an "acted" role. To him, Hackett did not seem closely identified with it ; it was too carefully "studied" to be natural. Curtis liked the fat laugh, chuckling away into silence, or exploding in mere fun — that was good ! But he had gone to see something more than a traditional Falstaff, and he had found hard moments and dryness instead. The humor was too intellectual, the pose too imitatively reminiscent of other Falstaffs. This is the view taken by Mr. Winter, who thought the externals perfect, with the rimy fringe of whis- kers, but that Hackett's merriment was tinctured with scorn. So, too, he painted with a broad brush, caring nothing for detail. Even though great emphasis has been laid upon the stateliness of James H. Hackett, he was primarily a comedian and not a tragedian. With all the slow, careful precision which marked the heavy roles he attempted, he possessed reckless energy, unbridled fun and frolic. There was pathos, too, and pictur- esque romanticism in his work. 162 But Hackett, while having the imagination, could '^"hg not give himself up to a spiritual fire which con- ^^^^ sumes the character of Lear; nor could he subject i^SCfeCttJJ his acting to a meditative repose which colors Hamlet. His intellect saw things in part, before it reached the whole; his acting did not come by flashes; it came, like his views on Shakespeare, after careful study. Two years before his father's death, James K. Hackett was bom at Wolfe, one of the Thousand Islands (September 6, 1869). Throughout his school and college years, he showed his theatrical tastes ; at eighteen, he had given no mean interpretation of Touchstone; at twenty, his Othello had met with favorable comment ; and by the time he left the Col- lege of the City of New York in 1 891, his inclination toward the drama was well emphasized. Curiously, the law claimed both father and sons in turn. Recorder Hackett has already been mentioned ; perhaps a father's influence schooled him to turn away from a profession that demanded such sacri- fices, and exacted such hardships as the actor's life. Young James now applied himself to the law, only to find in his turn that his tastes were elsewhere. It is asserted that propinquity has everything to do with the continuance of an actor-family, and some are inclined to doubt the theory of hereditary genius. In the case of every player thus far considered, we find recurrent aptitudes in the members of the same family ; but it is hard to estimate the present genera- tion at close range, not only on account of its still being active on the stage, but because external con- ditions of the theatre to-day are not such as to bring forth the deepest and sincerest work. When James K. Hackett abandoned the law he went to Philadelphia, and on March 28, 1892, appeared with J. H. Stoddart, Agnes Booth, and Julia Arthur in "The Broken Seal." He was then under the man- 163 '(2LbC agement of A. M. Palmer, who had organized his fa- la fe t-4-fi "^^'"^ stock company. l^BCBCttP For a short while following this, Mr. Hackett was leading man with Lotta,and during 1892-93 he joined the Augustin Daly Company. In 1893-94, with the dis- tinction of being one of the youngest of the "stars" emanating from the excellent schools of stock train- ing, Mr. Hackett's repertoire, under the management of D. A. Bonta, included "The Arabian Nights" and "The Private Secretary." Then successively he sup- ported Minnie Seligman, became leading man at the Queen's Theatre in Montreal, Canada, and on Janu- ary 14, 1895, appeared at the New York Broad- way Theatre with Kathryn Kidder. One more tem- porary engagement followed with Mrs. James Brown Potter and Kyrle Bellew, in "The Queen's Neck- lace." It was then, during November, 1895, that Mr. Hack- ett became a member of Daniel Frohman's stock company, playing at the Lyceum Theatre, New York, in R. C. Carton's "The Home Secretary." The young actor soon succeeded Herbert Kelcey as lead- ing man, and while playing in Pinero's "The Princess and the Butterfly" (1897) he fell seriously ill. Mr. E. J. Morgan took his place temporarily, but relin- quished it during the run of Carton's "The Tree of Knowledge." On May 2, 1897, Mr. Hackett married Miss Mary Mannering, who was a member of the Lyceum Com- pany. She belongs to an old English county family, and made her first appearance abroad in "Hero and Leander." She came to America to appear in Es- mond's "The Courtships of Leonie" on November 23, 1896, Mr. Hackett assuming the chief male role. In succession there followed Grundy's "The Late Mr. Costello," and Mrs. F. H. Burnett's "The First Gen- tleman of Europe." In 1898 Mr. Hackett again became a star, and his 164 MAR/ MANNERING wife was also placed at the head of her separate com- -^Jt* pany. v^yt Miss Mannering soon became closely identified with I^BCfiCttjS the success of Pinero's "Trelawny of the Wells," but in the popular mind she is more generally asso-* ciated with "Janice Meredith," one of the first of those dramatizations of historical novels with which a pubUc was surfeited during the last decade. Since becoming a star Mr. Hackett's plays have been mostly of the romantic kind, typified by "The Pris- oner of Zenda," and "Rupert of Hentzau," "Don Caesar de Bazan" (iQoi), and "The Pride of Jen- nico" (1900). He also followed in the path of the dramatized novel when he presented Churchill's "The Crisis" (1902). Many will remember the light romantic touch of his Orlando during a special en- gagement, and also his Mercutio at the time Miss Maude Adams and Mr. William Faversham were brought together in an "all-star" cast of "Romeo and Juliet." The romantic note, devoid of broad humor and of deep passion, but full of gallant bear- ing and dash — this has been Mr. Hackett's chief characteristic. He has inherited his father's managerial tastes ; per- haps one of the most emphatic and determined posi- tions he has yet taken, has been in regard to the so- called Theatrical Trust, against which he threw all his energies, even as did Richard Mansfield and Mrs. Fiske. But after a long warfare, he rejoined the ranks though he still maintains an independent attitude, and as manager of two theatres in New York, the Savoy and Field's, he is rising to an important place. In 1906 Mr. and Mrs. Hackett appeared as co-stars in a serious drawing-room drama, "The Walls of Jericho," from the pen of Alfred Sutro, who probably is now best known as the English translator of Mau- rice Maeterlinck. It is impossible to estimate a Uving actor who is still in the growth. The Mr. Hackett of 165 STbC to-morrow might upset all theories that could be " framed about the Mr. Hackett of to-day. He has a i^^C6Ctt0 fine presence and a rich voice, to which may be added romantic vigor. He displays business ability, and fol- lows dramatic changes closely. He stands midway — to judge by what he has played— between what his father was as a scholar and what his father was as a comedian. There is no definite classification to apply to Mr, Hackett; he has the manliness and dignity for large roles ; to-morrow may reveal the spiritual weight and the intellectual fire that, in our actor- families, have always emphasized the greatest. i66 Vn— THE DREWS AND THE BARRYMORES ►J O K o4 E o Si OD 1-3 H I- X a 03 ..te o * * a Q,ts 3 o ?;- iiid>-5 aooOO 55 ■•Jg <* 00 a £ 1 3 3 a •0 a 1) 1 i S 3 u Q a * •s 1 *> .9 5 f 1 \ ^ 1 •a 3 1 a. • ~ -2 s 2i 1 3 6f 5 a "O c9 J) J) te — — a '~^ >^ A ^ en •a \ n • £ ^ V 0. n ^ 73 « >> U. a ^ ^, -^ M § ^ ^ § ^ e ; >-> 5 a J3 s ^ :: - § ^. .2 : s CO-- tX) 4) 0» O.S esS . OS n 4) g_ !S a. e 8 • —■3 « a >> 6= * u • — §- 1 b », • («» 1 a a ,— s -v 01 2^ '^—^ % , ^ ««.|f=SF= ' J3 Vn— THE DREWS AND THE BARRYMORES F all the actor-families the Drews, through four generations, rep- resent most distinctively the theatre side. They took root in Great Britain, for the real found- er of the American branch, Louisa Lane, was the daughter of Thomas Frederick Lane, an actor as w^ell as a manager in England. Bom on January lo, 1820 (though i8i8 is confidently given elsewhere), the little representative of a Thespian mother and father did not have long to wait before she was on the stage. Mrs. Lane carried her on when she was scarcely twelve months old, and instead of turning red in the face and making the wel- kin ring with her screams, this Uttle mite only cooed and crowed aloud with delight, stretching out her tiny arms toward an applauding multitude. In those days America gathered her stage recruits ^ from Enghsh companies by sending agents over to pick and choose the players. Among those persuaded to turn ocean ward in 1827 were Mrs. Lane and Louisa. The latter was now a girl of seven, and en route to the port she stopped at a theatre in Liver- pool to delight an audience as Agib in "Timour the Tartar." Then began a four weeks' passage on a packet-ship. So we see that there was no time lost in the begin- nings of this actress. What did she do for an educa- tion? "I studied my profession, . . ." she wrote, "but that was about ail my school days consisted of — just one quarter in London when I was a very little girl, and a tew months of attendance at a school in Baltimore. Aside from that, I have absorbed what general infor- mation I possess — I have learned my lessons from experience and from the open book of life." 169 d^C ?DtCtD0 It is not surprising therefore to find that ahnost im- ^ith 'tT'lir mediately on landing in New York, Louisa Lane hast- allU V-.l|L gjjg(j ^Q Philadelphia with her mother where, at the 13aVlTlU0t'CjS Walnut Street Theatre on September 26, 1827, she made her American d^but as the Duke of York to Junius Brutus Booth's Richard III. By this time her father had died, and it was not long before her mother was married to John Kinlock, stage-manager at the Philadelphia theatre. This first engagement of Louisa Lane filled the child's mind with indelible impressions. Very often in after- years she referred to Booth's beautiful reading, and she told Francis Wilson toward the close of her life that it was "idiosyncratic." "The performance of the elder Booth as Richard," she wrote in her "Autobiography," "made a most powerful impression upon me. His dramatic force and mag- netism were like a giant whirlwind sweeping all be- fore it, I have never seen any one else in that part who seemed so completely to reaUze it as he did." But her stay with him was only a short one. In 1828 she made her first appearance in New York at the Old Bowery (March 3d), three months afterward moving to the Park, which was the rival theatre. For some time Miss Lane was destined to wander from town to town, now in Baltimore, supporting Forrest in "William Tell," during which trip, being regarded as a prodigy, she was decorated by the great actor with a special medal ; again playing Dr. Pangloss with spirit and humor (January, 1829), Joseph Jefferson's grandfather being in the cast with her; and still again during this year touring the South and the West. A critic witnessing her Pangloss came away marvelling and declaring it "the best since the days of Twaits, yet at the same time he never produced half the effect." Pronounced precociousness was the marked charac- 170 r Evenings od lines. es o| various kinds on white id girdle in solid color. >or. Market) . SIDNEY DREW AVell- known actor, who died today in New Yorli after a short illness. E itiona.'ly Popular Star of Footlights and Film Dead of Uremia ;s Is Green J Delightful all its charm and daintiness. This is a clafes of furniture which pays a double debt of usefulness. It is pre-emi- nently the living-room furni- ture for hot weather ; and it is porch furniture of the finest type. This collection is particularly riqh in three- piece living-room suits, starting from $81. All the other favorite kinds of summer furniture are here — hardy hickory, maple pieces so practical and inexpensive and in different finishes ; also fiber, rush and crex pieces, making up a dis- play which we believe is large awd meritorious be- yond comparison. M^S FAVORITE HERE j^iii'tiy (IS lio livfd. with (i Inst fnint ^ dow of liiK faiiiniiK wliiinsir-nl stnilo. '■V I>r(\v. h(»st l)<'lov('d I'frlinDM of 'f I'liihidclphia'K ilriiniiiti'" iinnriibio frrtni liiiii e world of mnk('-bcli<'ve, wns willi Sidney Drew Dies; Was Noted Actor teristic of this child of nine. She played seven parts in "^1^0 5^tCtDSJ "Winning a Husband," five parts in "72 Piccadilly," j. i^-Uf^ and six parts in "An Actress of All Work." On a «"0 ^M*- Chestnut Street Theatre programme, dated January '^^ttVlIlOtClS 9, 1829, and again including a number of the Jeffer- son family, the farce-piece of the evening was called "The Four Mowbrays," and had the following dram- atis personae : Matilda Mowbray Miss Lane ! Master Hector Mowbray Miss Lane!! Master Gobbleton Mowbray Miss Lane ! ! ! Master Foppington Mowbray Miss Lane ! ! ! ! Hardly a moment passed that this slip of a girl was not either dancing or playing or singing her way from State to State — a rigorous, unfortimate circum- stance—for though it gave her surety, though her fame was spreading by reason of the cleverness of her juvenile roles, the life deprived her of all the telling restraint a child should have. So very youthful was she that, as an incentive to the of ttimes lagging spir- its, she had to be promised rewards of candy toward the close of many an evening's work. It must have been before 1830, though Mrs. Drew mentioned no specific time, that Andrew Jackson, then President of the United States, seeing her at an official levee in Washington, called her "a very pretty Uttle girl." "Need I say," she commented, "that I was a Jackson Democrat from that hour, and have remained one up to date?" So, too, it may have been here that she was awed by the fascinating beauty of Fanny Kemble, who was present with her father. From 1829, when she received her first benefit, play- ing Pangloss, to 1836, her activity was constant. In April, 1830, she acted in "Richard II," at a thea- tre in New Orleans, and then shortly after set sail, under Mr. Kinlock's management, with a company 171 aL^C iDfC iDp bound for Jamaica. Shipwreck overtook them near Alth '^hC ^^ Domingo; for six weeks they were forced to ' camp, unable to get to the city; but when finally the QoStV^UlOtCjS belated strollers reached their destination, they foimd favorable reception. Misfortune here awaited them, however, in another form. Mr. Kinlock and baby, stricken with yellow fever, both died, and the mother and daughter, thus bereft, and further hast- ened by rumors of an insurrection, returned to America. ^^ But though she was becoming a favorite in the public regard, Louisa Lane's advance was slow; it meant work, and as we are prone to laud a self-made man in the business world, here in the process of develop- ment we find a type of the self-made player. She had to endure all the privations and hardships of travel and change, but she was never long without an en- ' gagement. Her next move was to hasten to the Phil- adelphia Arch Street Theatre, where, under the man- agement of William Forrest, a brother of Edwin, she played with James E. Murdoch ; then we read of her making another trip to the West Indies, where she was again wrecked. In 1833, when only thirteen, she was playing small parts at the Bowery Theatre in New York, in such pieces as "The Wife" and "Ma- zeppa." When she went to Boston, her stay was made at the Warren Theatre, where she and her mother were paid a weekly and joint salary of sixteen dollars. After this Miss Lane proceeded to Halifax, where she saw "a good deal of human nature, ... all the petty strife of real actors without their ability." Her roles were growing in importance, for later, at the St. Charles Theatre in New Orleans, she played Maria in "The School for Scandal" with Murdoch, George Holland, Henry Hunt, Mrs. Maeder and Miss De- Bar in the cast ; here also they supported Charlotte Cushman. Finally, after her marriage, when she 172 \l toured the South, she was assigned the lead in her -grTi* ©t^tUS company, playing Pauline in "The Lady of Lyons." v^M'^ ^iP'H^ u»?J The year 1836 found Louisa Lane married to Henry ^HD ^\^Z Blaine Hunt, an English tenor, v/ho had come to '^^^sJ*.t.^»**rt1•l>rf America in 1828, "a nice actor," so she described A^al-irniOPt? him, "and a very handsome man of forty." He won notice as Francis Osbaldistone in Pocock's "Rob Roy" and as Harry Bertram in a dramatization of "Guy Mannering." His dash, his spirit, his attrac- tive presence had in early years gained him a much- coveted place among the fast set which George IV had assembled around the throne. So that when he found himself a married man, his nature was no more trained than v/as that of Louisa Lane's for the mutual duties imposed upon them. , They played together continually and were both at J the Chestnut Street Theatre when Mrs. Hunt assumed the roles of Beatrice and Ophelia, and acted with Tyrone Power. So, too, did she appear at the Walnut Street Theatre, where she received during the season of 1839-40 a weekly stipend of twenty dollars, which was then considered a very large salary— the highest thus far paid at that theatre to a single person. While her best-remembered parts were types in the rare old English comedies, Mrs. Hunt now played Lady Macbeth in the support of Forrest, and around 1839 her performance of Desdemona is recorded. She was closely identified with Philadelphia, the three chief theatres— the Arch, the Walnut, and the Chest- nut — claiming her attention at different times. She also continued to travel, and one evening while at Pittsburg, during a performance of "London Assur- ance," the piece was given, according to her de- scription, "with a degree of excellence unheard of in that vicinity." The curtain rose on one scene wherein was displayed a real fountain of water, and the audience marvelled much, exclaiming further over a room on the stage having carpet and mirror 173 vTlK OrCWjS and furniture a degree of realism new to the thea- alio d)l Iq Baltimore, during one summer, Mrs. Hunt with 15iirrVniOrC£J °°'y three or four actors assisting her, ventured to ^ present a series of short plays, and the management was conducted on an old principle : after each per- formance -and there were many successful nights — the little band, in imitation of Molifere and his court mummers, would gather around a table and divide whatever profits there might happen to be. Mrs. Hunt had with her at this time her step-sister, Georgia Kinlock; she it was who, on these doubtful even- ings, would station herself by the peephole of the curtain and report the state of the audience which filled the house slowly enough to give the actors qualms and varied misgivings. Around this period of her career also, Mrs. Hunt be- came associated with J. W. Wallack, Jr., who was acting in a repertoire composed of both comedy and tragedy. Then followed her engagement with Ma- cready. "[He] was a dreadful man to act with, . . ." she wrote. "He would press you down with his hand on your head and tell you in an undertone to stand up!" In 1846 Mrs. Hunt played at the Old Bowery in "The Love Chase," with E. L. Davenport, who was taking a benefit, and in 1847, while on tour, she was seen in the role of Rosalind. Among the curiosities of the American stage may be considered her performance, 01 January 26, 1847, of Romeo, at the Park Theatre, New York, to the Juliet of Ada Stetson, and not con- tent apparently with a romantic role, she tried an even more masculine one in the shape of Marc Antony. V/ith such a life as they were leading, it is not sur- prising to record that around 1847 Mr. and Mrs. Hunt were granted a separation. In 1848 she mar- ried again — George Mossop, who was an Irish singer and comedian and whose chief distinction lay in the 174 \y MRS DREW. AS MRS. MALAPROP fact that though he stuttered terribly when off the '^h^ ©tttDjS stage, just as soon as he v/ent on, the impediment ^ ceased. But the actress was a widow on October 8, flttu KLl^t 1849. She went to the Albany Museum during that Ol^aiTVlllDt'^^ year, and there she first met John Drew, who was a -^tjavvlfl xp member of the same company. The couple were mar- ried on July 27, 1850. The year Jefferson made his first appearance as Jim y Crow — that is, during 1833— John Drew, the young Irish comedian, was brought to America from Dub- hn. He was bom on September 3, 1827. This date is selected in preference to 1825 and 1828, which are given in many accounts, because of three facts that likewise find record: one is that he came to America when six years of age ; another that in 1850, when he was married, he was only twenty- three ; and still another that at his death he was but thirty-five. By profession his father was a piano- maker. Spending the greater part of his boyhood in Buffalo, young Drew, showing some inclination for the sea, was apprenticed to a whaler, and started on a three years' cruise, but not liking the captain, he waited his opportunity, and one day he turned with sudden decision, shipping secretly on a Liverpool packet. No sooner landed than he looked about for an engagement at some theatre. As to his first New York appearance, there is a casual mention of his having played at Richmond Hill Theatre on Greenwich Street, and then of his having proceeded to Rochester. But 1845 is the more definite date, and during that year he made his d€but as Dr. O'Toole, in "The Irish Tutor," at the Bowery Thea- tre, New York. After their marriage Mr. and Mrs. Drew acted in v--^ Chicago and Buffalo, and in the summer of 1850, while at Niblo's Garden (New York) their company included Lester Waliack, Joseph Jefferson, W. R. Blake and his wife. 175 'BarrrtttorcjS la 1S51 Mr. and Mrs. Drew went to the Chestnut Street Theatre, and then to the Arch, which came uider the management of Wheatley and Drew on August 20, 1853. Here it was that they played in Gibber's "She Would and She Would Not," with a supporting company in which John Gilbert and John Sleeper Clarke were members ; here also on the even- ing of October 10, 1854, "Shakespeare's Peculiar and Popular Comedy of Errors" was presented, played by William Wheatley, John Drew, Frank Drew (his brother), Mrs. John Drew, and Mrs. Kinlock; in the farce that followed on the programme, called " Satan in Paris!" Miss Georgia Kinlock figured. The superabundant fun of these comedians had ample outlet in the good-humored play of Shakespeare's. Wheatley and an actor named Shewell were the Antipholes, John and Frank Drew the Dromios. Throughout the evening the audience was kept in a quandary as to who was who. The twin brothers of high degree were constantly confused and a close scrutiny was all that kept them individualized. But in the case of the two Dromios, it was impossible to distinguish them. Hackett and Barnes met success in these roles, but it was the former who imitated the latter. Here, with John and Frank Drew, there was mutual imitation. They were dressed alike, their manner was alike, and they looked alike. When they came upon the stage, they played with the audience, sUpping at will from one part to the other. Now John Drew was Dromio of Ephesus, and his brother, Dromio of Syracuse. Then, when the audience felt confident they knew which was which, the two would change places, and John Drew would be- come Dromio of Syracuse, while his brother was Dromio of Ephesus. Even Wheatley and Shewell found it hard to follow the antics of these two. Un- certainty behind the scenes was just as great. John Drew would tell a funny Gtory in a way to make the 176 actors and scene-shifters believe they were listen- ing to Frank. Even "bets were made amongst cer- tain of the audience" runs the account, "as to when John was on or Frank was off ; the brothers would hear of these wagers, change their scenes, and the betters were deceived." For two seasons John Drew retained his interest in the theatre; but in 1857 he started on a touring ex- pedition, sailing shortly for England with his mother- in-law. John Sleeper Clarke succeeded him in the ,, management of the house, and the company that was assembled proved to be the best ever gathered to- gether, so far as organization was concerned. Mrs. Drew meanv.'hile was filling time at the Walnut, and here it was that her husband came, after a very short absence. By his presence he materially strengthened the stock company. Mrs. Drew after- ward appeared in "The Octoroon" and "Our Amer- ican Cousin," playing Lady Gay Spanker with spirit and dash. To a rather large repertoire she was con- tinually adding new pieces. Soon there began a long period of travel for John,/ Drew. Between 1858 and 1862 he played in Cali- fornia, Australia, and England, returning to America some while after Mrs. Drew had assumed control of the Arch Street Theatre. This event had taken place on August 3, 1861 ; she was the first woman in America to enter the field of theatrical management on so large a scale. During the first season of her venture, the old build- ing having been altered in arrangements, and greatly enriched in decorations, Mrs. Drew appeared in forty- two roles, but financially she was not making a suc- cess. Her husband found such to be the case on his arrival; for a second time he filled the breach and began a long engagement there for one hundred nights, presenting "The Road to Ruin," "The Irish Emigrant," and "London Assurance" among other 177 'Batrtmorejs 'CIK |DVCtOJ2{ plays. His last appearance occurred on May 9, 1862 ; auh The twelve days after, he died. *»"l' d)l /^ distinguishing note in the "Autobiography" of ^ilVVVlUOtCjdJ ^Ts. Drew is its blunt directness. Her candid opinion was devoid of any emotional uncertainty. We find her estimate of John Drew peculiarly impersonal, almost unfeeling in its aim to be just. She wrote : I don't think there are many persons surviving him now who remember him well, and he was worth re- membering; one of the best actors I ever saw in a long ■J list of the most varied description. Had he lived to be forty-five, he would have been a great actor. But too early a success was his ruin. Why should he study when he was assured on all sides (except my own) that he was as near perfection as was possible for a man to be. John Drew, Sr., was rather short in stature, being of slender build and with plain but jovial expression. He was very adaptable, and could be easily ap- proached ; he had a pleasant word for every one. His equipment as an actor consisted in a rich voice and a quick, sympathetic humor. His characters of Handy Andy and Sir Lucius O'Trigger were preeminent; there was charm in his Goldfinch in "The Road to Ruin," and his Meddle in "London Assurance" was surpassing sly. His O'Bryan in "The Irish Emi- grant" was so perfect in its reality that one found it hard to cease identifying the role with the actor. John Brougham wrote the play and had himself won some distinction when he appeared in the part; but after seeing John Drew in it. Brougham came away determined never to try it himself again. Jefferson recorded : He [Drew] acted a star engagement under my manage- ment in Richmond, Virginia, in 1856, appearing in a round of Irish characters with marked success. ... I think it has been generally conceded that since Tyrone Power, there has been no Irish comedian equal to John Drew. Power, as a light and brilliant actor, with piefc- 178 ing eyes, elegant carriage, and polished "school," daz- zling his audiences like a comet, was undoubtedly un- paralleled in his line, but I doubt if he could touch the heart as deeply as did John Drew, He was withal versatile, which criticisms declare Power was not, for the latter besides limiting his roles, colored them all too highly for nature. Perhaps the best idea of Drew's acting may be gleaned from Ben- jamin G. Rogers, who wrote : Blessed with a joyous spirit and a fine flavor of native wit, sharpened by a quick appreciation of the ludicrous in the faults, fashion, or humor of the times, added to a power of portraying the absurdities or peculiarities of human natxire in their most ridiculous forms, aided by a nice discrimination of the point of a witticism or sar- casm, Mr. John Drew was enabled to present comic char- acters in their most laughable and enjoyable coloring, which showed him a comedian of more than ordinary ability. In characters of the serio-comic, inclined to the sentimental, he infused a body and depth of feeling very few comedians could equal. In the change from the comic to the pathetic, he was at his best. With the dis- cernment of a true artist, Mr. Drew applied himself to the requirements of old legitimate comedies, with a truthfulness of study, and an untiring research as to the spirit or purpose of a character that enabled him to present them with an individuality marked and efifec- tive." If John Drew was versatile, his brother Frank was more so, for in his life-time of seventy-two years, he acted in no less than one thousand plays. He too was bom in Dublin, on October 29, 1831, and was looked upon as a child prodigy, when scarcely able to walk. During his experiences in America he passed succes- sively under the management of both Mr. and Mrs. Drew, and then in England (1863), played with success in "The Irish Emigrant." He was married in 1850 to a Mrs. C. L. Stone, and had two sons, Frank, who became a manager, and John E., who was him- self a comedian of mediocre ability. 179 Cl)e JBvtW ant! Cl^e auD €1)0 V u Under Mrs. Drew's management the Arch Street Theatre became "a dramatic thermometer." Here she brought Wallack, Davenport, Booth, Charlotte Cush- man, Lotta, F. F, Mackay, Louis James, Stuart Rob- son, and Fanny Davenport ; here it was possible for those of moderate means* to witness "star" casts on all occasions ; instance a playbill for "Othello" with E. L. Davenport, J. W. Wallack, Jr., and Mrs. Farren acting together. There was constant variety, con- stant change, and those who were permanent mem- bers of the Drew Stock Company were trained in a system of exacting but invigorating methods. On March 13, 1863, a performance of "Macbeth" is re- corded with J. Wilkes Booth as the Thane and Frank Drew as the Second "Witch. Here likewise Mrs. Waller gave her feminine portrayal of Hamlet. So long as the house held to a stock system, it might be called successful. But modern conditions began to encroach upon the old order, and combination houses were being looked upon favorably, becoming more thoroughly established with the improved facil- ities for travel which allowed companies to move rapidly from place to place. Mrs. Drew could not stem the tide of change; in 1877-78 the Arch Street Theatre was turned into a combination house, and thereafter dropped off in its receipts, though still continuing to assemble brilliant players in the casts. Mrs. Drew, during nearly a quarter of a century, was placed in an eddy of new ideas seeking to adjust themselves. While the theatre has always been a busi- ness, more or less, it was not organized on so large a scale in those early days; there was a more even proportion maintained between art and the commer- cial side ; salaries, while generous, were not such as to * During her regime, despite the fact that for one season the rent was $6,200, Mrs. Drew kept the box-office prices at low range : dress circle, 37.^ cents; parquette, 50 cents; family circle, 25 cents; and amphitheatre, 15 cents. 180 JOHN DREW make it impossible to bring together players of the C^l^C ^tCtDjS same ability, except on much-flaunted and rare ;***s '^'hf^ occasions. Mrs. Drew understood too plainly v/hat ^*^*^ sL^k all this restiveness meant. It was with some bitter- CBStt^VUlOVtlSl nsss that she held out against other houses where the fashion of having matinees had been lately culti- vated. Then finally the Arch Street Theatre was obliged to succumb. Around 1889 a testimonial was given to Murdoch during which a three-act version of "The School for Scandal" was performed ; this actor played Charles ; young John Drew, Joseph ; George Holland, Sir Peter ; and Mrs. Drew, Lady Teazle. While such activity v/as going on inside this one particular playhouse, Mrs. Drew, despite her work as manager, began her association with Joseph Jefferson in 1880, which was to last through eleven seasons, and in "The Rivals" to include for some time, W. J. Florence. "Every season was a happy one," she wrote; "the latter part of the time Mr. Jefferson was busy on his delightful autobiography, and used occasionally to read it to us." In 1892 Mrs. Drew not only gave up active charge of the Arch Street Theatre, but also resigned her post as one of the board of directors. Her last acted role in Philadelphia, where she had spent such a large part of her professional life, was that of the Widow Green in "The Love Chase," given during the week begin- ning May 2, 1892. A successful testimonial preceded her removal to New York — a change that meant the uprooting of strong associations which had extend- ed over thirty-two years. By now also Mrs. Drew had arrived at the advanced age when a "new" be- ginning would be difficult to accomphsh. She was a veteran actress, the larger part of whose work was accompHshed ; not the better part, for she re- tained her powers to the end, and in 1896, when she v/as a member of a noteworthy "all-star" cast of i3: KL.\)t ?Drr\l)j3 "The Rivals" her vigor was unabated, her youth- finri Vlhc ^"^ aptitude for comedy and her quick eye for effect " were still the same. That company included: W. H. 'BarrVniOVCjSi crane as Sir Anthony Absolute; Robert Taber as Captain Absolute ; Joseph Holland as Falkland ; Jef- ferson as Bob Acres; E. M. Holland as Fag; Fran- cis Wilson as David; Julia Marlowe as Lydia Lan- guish; Fanny Rice as Lucy; and Mrs. Drew as Malaprop. The younger generation was thus brought within close range of two pioneers whose memory stretched far back to the greatest, themselves surpassing good. They also are tradition now — tradition, a word rep- resenting the simi total of all those high moments when interpretation comes by flashes, whether of brilliancy or intensity. Mrs. Drew, when she became settled in her new home, was at first managed by her adopted son, Sidney Drew (chiefly known to the vaudeville stage), and then she passed under the management of Charles Frohman, acting intermittently, and spending a large part of her time with her son John. Her last role was in "The Sporting Duchess," January, 1897. She died at Larchmont, New York, on August 31st of the same year. On reviewing the long life of Mrs. John Drew, the wide range of her work shows her to have been one of quick insight and apt interpretation. Her Lady Teazle and her Malaprop were her best creations, and her Peg WoflBngton, her Lady Gay, her Dot, and her Lydia Languish were superior. She arrived off-hand at the most original conceptions and was never known to suggest without enriching thereby. She could af- ford, at rehearsal, to turn her attention to others, for she was never seen at the theatre with the book of the play in her hands; she was always "letter perfect" at the first assembling of the company. Sometimes her work was described as the very "quintessence of 182 comedy," for her reading was wellnigh flawless and her intuition remarkably sure. Clara Morris's pen- portrait of Mrs. Drew is vivid : What a handsome, masterful young creature she must have been in the days when she was playing the dash- ing Lady Gay, the tormenting Lady Teazle, and all that swarm of arrant coquettes! Her high features, her air of gentle breeding, the touch of hauteur in her manner, must have given the same zest to the admi- ration of her lovers that the faint nip of frost in the autumn air gives to the torpid blood. And, good heav- ens! what an amount of work fell to the lot of the stately gentlewoman! . . . She was always a wonderful disciplinarian; hers was said to be the last of those greenrooms that used to be considered schools of good manners. Some women descend to bullying to maintain their authority — not so Mrs. John Drew. Her armor was a certain chill austerity of manner, her weapon a sharp sarcasm, while her strength lay in her self-con- trol, her self-respect." But this armor of impenetrable sternness had its vulnerable spot. To her activity in the world of affairs she added what her son referred to as the gentleness and loving kindness of a mother. Three of Mrs. Drew's children went on the stage, but the family mantle descended upon John, whom his mother regarded with special pride. He was born in Philadelphia on November 13, 1853, and received his education at the Protestant Episcopal Academy of that city. He gave up all ideas of a university train- ing and on March 23, 1873, joined his mother's stock company, having just returned from a trip abroad. His first role was Plumper, in "Cool as a Cucumber." Mr. Drew has always been reticent in his pubUc ut- terances. Excepting a short foreword to his mother's book, and two articles in magazines, no retrospect is to be found from his pen to mark these early days ; he once wrote: There is less muscular exertion about the actor's work to-day than there was twenty or thirty years ago, 183 and Cl^c l3arri?morej£J y and €l)c isarrvmorcjsj v^ but in other respects it has grown more arduous. When, at the age of nineteen, I stepped upon the stage from surroundings where the dramatic traditions were pre- served and disseminated by generations of actors be- longing to my family, I was sanguine enough to believe that in ten years I might come to have a knowledge of my profession. But when the appointed time was com- pleted, I found that I was still only a beginner. Subjected to the rigor of a training which did him a vv^orld of good, Mr. Drew played Dolly Spanker in "London Assurance" and Gaspar in "The Lady of Lyons," besides having more than silent parts in "Black-Eyed Susan" and "The Hunchback." Daly saw him in 1875, and in February of that year he ap- peared at Daly's Fifth Avenue Theatre, New York, as Bob Ruggles, in "The Big Bonanza." In 1876 he was playing Rosencranz to Booth's Hamlet, and was cast Ukewise as Exton in "Richard II" and Franfois in "RicheUeu." His next experience was with Faimy Davenport, who toured during 1877-78 in a repertoire extending from "As You Like It" to Daly's "Pique." Then Drew joined Barrymore and Warde, touring in 1878-79 with "Diplomacy" as the chief attraction. Mr. Daly had, at this period, given up his management of the Fifth Avenue Theatre. But in 1879 Mr. Drew began his association with Daly which was to last until 1892 ; it was a briUiant record, diversified in range of roles and embracing the most romantic, the most humorous, the most boisterous of characters. Augustin Daly was a manager who brought to the stage lavish ideas, and he was one of the last of those managers to make of his theatre a home where the cultured gathered. His experiments may not always have been wise ; he was, however, invigorating and gathered around the playhouse an atmosphere that still clings to it, now the days are past. He gave valuable, even though rigorous, training and Mr. 184 bo " c -J ^ o en m _i o 111 UJ a. LlI o cr D Q Z < UJ a. O > tr < LlJ cr Q tr O at "Our Girls," "The Shaughraun," and many old '^h^ ©tCtC^ English comedies; and in 1881 he was playing Cap- : ^^^ tain Absolute in "The Rivals," with Jefferson and.y atXD xL^t Mrs. John Drew. His spirit, his humor, his quickness OF^iirvtYmDl^^^ gave life to the company. Perhaps it was during this -"-'ttV'V'K**^'^*''^?' tour or during 1893 that, one Christmas, he had his flin g of wit at each member of the company. Jeffer- son used to tell Francis Wilson with all the zest of a boy — Jefferson never lost that hearty buoyancy — how Barrymore sent Mrs. Drew a g^t of peanuts, her special abhorrence ; while he received a copy of "The Rivals" with all the parts cut out save those belonging to Bob Acres. On September 21, 1881, at the London Court Thea- tre, Barrymore presented "Honor," an adaptation made by him from the French ; it had a long run. In the fall of 1882 he began a four years' contract with Modjeska, appearing in a round of dramas including "Adrienne Lecouvreur," "As You Like It," "Mary Stuart," and "Frou Frou." During this time Barrymore wrote a play of Polish life which he called "Nadjeska," and which was presented in Bal- timore on February 8, 1884. Then it was produced at the New York Star Theatre on February 12th, and while played wonderfully by Modjeska, it was se- verely criticised as a drama. It was also given at the London Haymarket on January 2, 1886, when Barry- more, his wife, and Beerbohm Tree were in the cast. As a playwright Mr. Barrymore wrote "Blood Will Tell," and also made a Ubretto called "The Robbers of the Rhine," which was presented with no success in 1892. One engagement followed another. A season, that of 1887-88, was spent with Mrs. Langtry, when she was touring in "As in a Looking Glass" and "A Wife's Peril" ; then came five seasons under Palmer who cast Barrymore in such pieces as "Captain Swift," "Alabama," and "Lady Windermere's Fan." In 189 '^L\)C JDVtUlJtJ 1890 he made only a fair impression, while playing ^ ^u<^ in F. Hopkinson Smith's "Colonel Carter of Carters- anD cl)c ^i,e.» ^DdVVVlUOtCSJ Such a career need not be followed closely to be understood. Barrymore experienced the varying ups and downs of an ordinary player, though his worth as an actor was uncommonly excellent. His natural way and his picturesque bearing brought him many opportunities. In 1893-94 he led with Mrs. Bemard- Beere, and then in turn became a member of com- panies starring Rose Coghlan and Katherine Clem- mons. In 1894-95 he was with Olga Nethersole, and in the fall of 1895 he played the role of Allan Ken- drick in Belasco's "The Heart of Maryland," when Mrs. Leslie Carter received her first impetus toward public favor. The spirit of the part was upon Bar- rymore, for only on May 13, 1895, he had acted William Gillette's own role in "Secret Service." During the summer he had played in stock on the Pacific Coast. The year 1896 marked one of Barrymore's unsuc- cessful starring tours in "Roaring Dick and Com- pany," a play made from a novel by Walter Besant, called "Ready-Money Mortiboy." In 1897-98 he was again in vaudeville, leaving it to appear in a revival of "Shenandoah" during the spring. Then in the fall of 1898 he assumed the part of Rawdon Crawley in Mrs. Fiske's production of "Vanity Fair," a drama- tization made by Langdon Mitchell and called "Becky Sharp." After appearing in vaudeville in 1900 and 1901, Mr. Barrymore was obliged to retire altogether from the stage after the evening of March 28, 1901. Complete W mental collapse was the immediate necessity, and it was in confinement that he died at Amityville, Long Island, on March 25, 1905. Mr. Henry Miller has laid stress upon Barrymore's strength and gentleness, upon his wit and pictur- 190 ETHEL BARRYMORE esqueness, upon his handsome figure and dominat- 'dT'hP ^Xt^^ ing personality— upon the ever-popular "Barry" ^ ^^ who knew how to make the sacrifice of a friend 0lUD (L^^ for a friend, whose fellowship was rare and whose ni:^!avft^titnt*r(i sparkle was inexhaustible. JDtll^lIUlUHP Barrymore's name is preserved to present playgoers in a three-fold manner. His daughter Ethel has won a position for herself through her earnestness and refreshing way. Her roles have been ambitious for one of so short a career, and her strides in popular favor have increased with the increase of subtlety in her attempts. Miss Barrymore was bom in Philadelphia on Au- gust 15, 1879, and received her education in the Convent of Notre Dame in that city ; she was con- tinually with her grandmother during these early years. Her first appearance was made in her uncle's company, when Mr. Drew was playing "The Bauble / Shop," in 1894. The next year she replaced Agnes^'^ Miller, who had a minor part in "The Squire of Dames." But it was in 1896, when "Rosemary" was enjoying its success, that she created her first role as a maid. In 1897 she went abroad, joining the com- pany of Sir Henry Irving, and there appearing with him as Annette in "The Bells." In 1899 she acted with Annie Russell in "Catherine" (her cousin, Georgie Drew Mendum was also in the cast), and after that, Mr. Frohman sent her on the road with a leading role in "His Excellency the Governor." Since becoming a star Miss Barrymore has played in "Captain Jinks," (1901-2) "The Country Mouse" and "Carrots" (1902-3), "Cousin Kate" (1903-4), "Sun- day" (1904-5), "A Doll's House" (May 3, 1905), and "AUce Sit-by-the-Fire," from the inimitable pen of J. M. Barrie, who (1906) likewise wrote a playlet of quaint conceit called "Pantaloon," a harlequin domestic story, in which Lionel Barrymore and John Barrymore both won deserved success. 191 4t"ht* TTsrcWifi Lionel Barrymore had first come into notice as an JL.in ^H I wp ^^^^^ during a revival of "Cumberland, '6i," but his BUD *flrrt?titnrr«< ^°^ ^^^ Hummingbird" ; he there played reaUstically Ortl VYlUUVlp ^jjg p^j.j Qf an Italian organ-grinder. This was fol- lowed by Thomas's "The Other Girl" where he appeared as a prize-fighter, exhibiting a bit of good-natured coarseness which was a close study of life. John Barr)rmore, having won somewhat of a name for himself as a painter, became best known as an actor in Davis's "The Dictator," though previously he had played in Fitch's "Glad of It," one of those con- structed plays, whose purpose being to show a cer- tain phase of life — this time the theatrical profession — overemphasizes the phase and misses the life. All three Barrymores are at that point in their work where prediction would be useless. By far the most distinct member is Ethel. Her acting is perfectly natural, her personality pleasing. She has youthful energy, though her physique is yielding and she is slenderly built. In fact it is Miss Barrymore's youth which gives the appealing quality to all of her most ambitious efforts. She has played the middle-aged woman and one has seen all the girl-characteristics below the make-beUeve. The personal equation is a balance of youth and simplicity. One day Miss Barrymore, to whom the open air means much, to whom music is a pastimie, and who has never had the ambition to play in Shakespeare, took up a volume of Ibsen, and began reading "A Doll's House." With a quick perception she saw her- self in the role of Nora. Her desire stretched out for one of the most compact and subtle plays of modem times. But Miss Barrymore's Nora struck a high note in her progress. It was more than a worthy attempt ; it was a success due to intelligence and keen art. If she 192 failed to handle the sudden change in Nora's char- -flThfr ^Bt^'toS acter from the doll she was in the beginning to the ^^"^ 7*^t^t wp woman she was in the end, it was because she herself BXlh ^])t was not then ripe enough in experience to give it the nt^ssf v^tvYtrtvorf maturity it needed. In the first two acts, where Nora, ^^^f^tV^OlZp the inglnue, dances through her life with inherited weakness, with childish actions, with reckless lying, and with impulsive, blind love. Miss Barrymore ex- celled. There are those who turn from Nora with dis- gust ; they cannot accept the theory of marital duty which Ibsen makes Nora call "the Miracle" — in the face of a mother's love. They cannot applaud the idea of a wife leaving her husband because he persists in being selfish and in treating her as a child, when that wife is likewise the mother of three children. The last act of the play is Ibsen's Idea — Miss Barrymore, however, studied Nora not as an Idea, but as a char- acter — a human interpretation; much of the hard- ness, the angular distinctness was softened by Miss Barrymore's frank and natural method. The Drews and the Barrymores, unlike the other families considered in previous chapters, present no dominant note in their work ; they have all been comedians, but not comedians of one type; their ^ laugh has not sunned the heart however much it may have provoked mirth. Mrs. John Drew possessed a perfection so stately and so unconscious that it ceased to be art, being so near Uke Ufe itself. It was too strong ever to be dainty ; it was too spirited ever to be languorous. Her son is a comedian of a different sort. Once his work flourished on something more than the dry humor of expression ; it carried dash and originality and a certain romance inherited from the elder Drew ; now its limits are set by those who have been led, only through custom, to expect what they get before they get it. And Miss Barrymore, as representing the third gen- 193 ^l)t |DrC\\)j2l eration in America, is a comedienne whose pathos is flttfi {The ^^ much a part of her as her smile. There is the strain rtllU V-lJl Qf quizzical humor inherited from the Drews; there '^^(IttVniOrCJJ ^^ ^ deeper strain of romance which was such a large part of Maurice Barrymore's own temperament. 194 u; cr O > cr < CQ I O a < Vin— THE WALLACKS a CO M o o h3 o w a si u o 2 o Is si 00 n o.. » cc Is at i ^i p a Mo ,02 tj-c; en O i_, £t^ ug oe h^^ <- s cSO C o — • '-' ft 1-5 to ■« 9 ° S a E H 03 * moo c — 00 ■6 ttS a CD 3 i| e'» o QD Si ,13 00 622 D OP 1 C8 >. t- . , CD g >> * 3 w (- aJ- •-5 -06 XI Vm— THE WALLACKS HE Wallack family of actors, as far as America is concerned, never succeeded in becoming acclimated. Each member was popular, each scored distinct successes, but each remained EngUsh to the end. Even the theatres, which, bearing the name Wallack, served as such extraordinary examples of the old-time stock system, while doing much toward encouraging the presenta- tion of classic plays, did Uttle toward stimulating and furthering native ability. Still, during a long period of stage history in America, the Wallacks were dom- inant in a brilUant way, and remained so despite their English proclivities. Robert Buchanan was once at a dinner in New York, where he referred to Lester Wallack, in the latter's presence, as an American. "Don't say that," quickly rejoined the actor; "I'm an Englishman, thank God!" At another time, when Great Britain and America were rather strained in their relations, Wallack raised the English flag above his country house. The result was that an angry populace tore it down and further feeling was aroused. Discretion is the better part of valor; it is the least part of melodrama, and these actions of Wallack's were theatric. But our record would not be complete if it failed to examine closely the active lives of these players. Their theatrical claims extend from the time of Garrick, since Lester's grandmother was, once, dur- ing that tragedian's career, his leading lady. James Wilham Wallack and his son were on the stage through a period covering the greater part of a cen- tury ; they became associated with a brilliant coterie of men and women, who made famous the English stage, and who gave to America a tradition of ines- 197 -^^i^ timable value. One has but to glance at the portraits contained in Lester Wallack's "Memories of Fifty iyt^Ell^Cfi)SS Years" to realize how far-reaching was the ac- quaintance of this family and how in them it was possible to see at work, methods bom of the schools of Garrick, Elliston, and Kean. As actors, the Une began well, for both William Wal- lack (who died on March 6, 1850, aged 90) and his wife, EUzabeth Field Granger, won considerable applause while playing at Astley's Amphitheatre in London, Biography nowhere records whether the fact that WilUam was famed for his maritime rdles had anything to do with his desire to see his son, James William, in the navy, where an opening as midshipman could have been his for the asking ; or whether, in a negative way, as far as John Lester was concerned, it had anything to do with his youth- ful preference for the army. SuflBlce it to say that the art of acting was the common lot of all three. It is to be noted that a two-act melodrama was once pub- lished, entitled "The Pilot of the German Ocean," by W. H. Wallack, Esq. Elizabeth Field had been previously married to a Dr. Granger, and her daughter by this alliance was the Mrs. Jones who, playing at the New York Park Thea- tre during the season of 1805-6, was called "the Jordan of America." Her popularity was also con- siderable at the London Haymarket, and she would have attained greater prominence had she not died in New York, on November 11, 1806, when only twenty-four years of age. She had two children known to the profession as Mrs. Edmund Simpson, wife of the manager of the Park Theatre, and Mrs. Bancker. The Wallack par excellence was James William, who was bom at Hercules Buildings, Lambeth, in London, on a date variously given as 1791— August 17 or 20, 1794 — and more often stated as August 24, 1795, since the inscription on his grave- 198 stone reads that he died on December 25, 1864, aged '^Xl^ sixty-nine. One theory is that his birth was hastened ^^ -- ^ by the burning of Astley's Amphitheatre in 1794. E^SllSCHjS His stage career began when he had just attained his fourth year, in a production, indiscriminately called "Black Beard" or "Blue Beard," at the Royal Circus, which afterward became the London Surrey Thea- tre. In 1804 young Wallack was to be seen at the German Theatre, known later as Dibden's Sans Souci. Even at the early age of twelve he came under the notice of Richard Brinsley Sheridan, and the next two seasons found him in support at Drury Lane, where, in 1807, he was the Negro Boy in a panto- mime, "Furibond, or Harlequin Negro." The theatre burned down on February 24, 1809, and there fol- lowed for Wallack an engagement at the Dublin Royal Hibernian, managed by Henry Erskine John- ston (1810). But the youthful actor made no decided impression at this time ; nor did he, in fact, until after the reopening of Drury Lane, which occurred on the evening of October 12, 1812, with the reading of a prologue written by Lord Byron. It was then that Wallack's Laertes, to the Hamlet of Charles Lamb's EUiston, won for him some little recognition, though many would detract from it by saying that he imi- tated Elliston. For the next three years, Wallack was well trained in a varied list of plays; we find him as Charles Stanley in "A Cure for the Heartache," Cleveland in "The School for Authors," Edward Lacy in "Riches" — playing with Edmund Kean, Theodore in Arnold's "Jean de Paris" (November i, 1814), Alwyn in Mrs. Wilmot's "Ina" (April 22, 1815), Malcohn m "Macbeth," Altamont in "The Fair Penitent," Plastic in "Town and Country," Aumerle in "Richard II," and Frederick in "The Jew." He was the original Maclean in Joanna BailUe's "Family Legend" (May 20, 1815), and further played Axalla in "Tamerlane," 199 ^X^t Loveless in "A Trip to Scarborough," Wellbred in a»la 1 1 flrhd "Every Man in His Humour," Joseph in "The School U/^ii^lUP f^j. Scandal," Captain Absolute in "The Rivals," Norfolk in "Richard III," Alcibiades in "Timon of Athens," and Don Lodowick in Penley's version of Marlowe's "The Jew of Malta." Nor had he been ignored in such prominent roles as Petruchio, Mer- cutio, and Benedick. During a period extending to 1818, when but twenty-two years of age, Wallack had thus been trained and seasoned, under the pat- ronage of Sheridan and Byron, under the guidance of Elliston and Kean. His greatest success at this time was attained as Wilford in "The Iron Chest." The friendship of Byron meant much to Wallack; the poet was a member of the Drury Lane Board of Management, from the early summer of 18 15 to the spring of 1816. There is some reference to the two having boxed together, and having been congenial companions, though Byron's letters ignore Wallack, who shared the distinction with him of being one of the handsomest men in England. A typical glimpse of the poet at the theatre is left to us from the pen of J. H. Siddons, who was taken by Sheridan to Drury Lane in 1815: "Between the acts of a play," runs the account, "he [Sheridan] led me into the saloon at the back of the boxes. Lord Byron, in a dark blue dress-coat, broad white trousers, his shirt-collar turned down, his digits encased in kid gloves, and a hat under his arm, was leaning in a studied attitude against a pillar." Wallack was familiar with Kean's Shylock, which was played at Drury Lane on January 26, 1814; he heard Elliston at his best ; he came in contact with Kemble, Munden, Mathews, and Mrs. Siddons. His mother, having acted with Garrick, brought him the flavor of that golden age. Yet one v/ould imagine Wallack's genius to have been something original, despite his imitations, '^n all accounts of this actor- 200 JAMES W. WALL/ .K, AS JAQUES family, the word picturesque is oftenest used to char- 'Cl^C acterize their acting— personal charm— exuberance '^allacizd of spirit which Ireland believed led Lester Wallack. to ^w^*3^tt9 become too famiUar with his audiences. Through Byron's intervention, James WilUam was released from his contract at Drury Lane in 1818, and he sailed for America, where on September 7th, at the old Park Theatre, managed by Edmund Simp- son, he appeared as Macbeth, further assuming the roles of Hamlet, Romeo, and Richard III, in all of which he was seriously considered. James H. Hackett witnessed Wallack's Hamlet during this visit, and in later years recorded in his book: With particular reference to Mr. Wallack's Hamlet, which, as it has happened, I have not had an opportunity to witness since my "youth," when my ideas of the character were crude and superficial, and which, there- fore, it would be unjust in me now to criticise retro- spectively, I did then very well note that Mr. Wallack's action was easy and graceful, his voice and articulation were clear and distinct. But the conception lacked weight to Hackett, and in its philosophical side was devoid of depth and inten- sity of meditation. Still, Wallack's first trip to America at once stamped his variety; it was, as W. J. Florence wrote, **a triumphant indorsement of his London repute." Even now he was looked upon as a possible suc- cessor of Kemble, whom, as Talfourd declared, he sought to imitate. While at the Park, the actor was seen as Don Caesar de Bazan, Rolla in Sheridan's "Pizarro" (November 30, 1818), and "Coriolanus." Already he was mar- ried. On November 20, 1820, he was back at Drury Lane playing "Hamlet," and in succession appearing as Brutus in Payne's "The Fall of Tarquin," Brutus in 201 (^h^ "Julius Caesar," Rolla with pronounced success, "Richard III," and "The Merchant of Venice," H^lUilCUjSJ modelUng his Shylock after Kean. Around 1855, when Wallack had been managing the Broome Street Theatre some time, he went to a dinner with his son Lester, and Thackeray and George WilUam Curtis were present. A few nights before, Thackeray had seen the elder actor's Shylock. "Wallack," he exclaimed, looking through those round-rimmed spectacles of his, "[yours] is the first Shylock who ever gave me the idea of what an ill-used man he was." To this may be added Talfourd's own picture of Kean's Jew, seen in later life : His look is that of a man who asserts his claim to suffer, as one of a race of sufferers ; and when he turns his sorrowful face in silence to the frothy coxcomb who rails at him, we feel the immeasurable superiority of one who finds, in the very excess of his misery, his kindred with a tribe oppressed for ages, to the insect boaster of the day. On April 25, 182 1, Wallack appeared as Israel Ber- tuccio in Byron's "Marino FaUero," and two months after, having incurred the displeasure of his audience on account of some slight to Queen Caroline, he made a second trip to America, where he gave imitations of Kemble as Rolla, Munden as Peter in "The Cabinet," Mathews as Buskin, Cooke as Richard, and Kean as Shylock. On this visit, while travelUng between New York and Philadelphia, Wallack's coach overturned and his leg was broken, an accident which made him lame for life, though he disguised the fact very well. Scarcely had he recovered from the immediate shock, when he was back on the boards, in a piece, Dibdin's "Birthday," which, aptly chosen, required the chief character, Captain Bertram, to enter on a pair of crutches. He managed surprisingly, hopping around the stage in agile fashion. "Poor fellow," exclaimed 202 those in the audience, "to think he needs must use /^t*|> crutches all his life!" But in the after-piece, "My ^v^ Aunt," what was their astonishment when Wallack ^^^IXflCfejS rushed out, hale and hearty, apparently sound of limb and body ! Returning to England in the fall of 1823, he became stage-manager of Drury Lane, under the guidance of Elhston, again playing with that actor. J. H. Siddons leaves his impressions of the two as seen together in 1826: The first night after my arrival [from India] I went to Drury Lane Theatre to see Elliston play Falstaff. A more unctuous knight it would be difficult to conceive. Macready was the impetuous Hotspur, and James W. Wallack, who has so worthily upheld the legitimate drama in America, was the Prince. I need not say it was a fine piece of acting on Wallack's part. Elliston, however, ruined the play and himself, by falling on the stage dead drunk when he came to the passage, "Hal, if thou seest me down in the battle, and bestridest me so, 'tis a point of friendship," Elliston had not that hold upon the affections of the public which made them tolerant of the escapades of a Cooke or a Kean. One transgression annihilated his theatrical career. [Wal- lack on this occasion was forced to carry him of£ the stage.] The year 1827 was marked by Wallack's playing lago to the Othello of Kean, besides assuming the roles of Edgar, Macduff, and Richmond. His reper- toire was large, embracing the Ghost in "Hamlet," Ford, Edgar, Charalois, in Massinger's "Fatal Dowry," Romeo, Charles Surface, Rob Roy, and Petruchio. Earlier in this engagement, on January 5, 1824, he had played the Earl of Leicester in "Kenil- worth," and had won applause in another of Scott's characterizations, Richard Coeur de Lion in "Knights of the Cross," which was an adaptation of "The Talisman." That he was exceedingly popular is shown by the fact that when the season closed, in 203 '{^l)£ 1828, the elder Mathews, in behalf of the company, gave him a silver service. In these days he spent li'ilUBCnjS most of his spare moments at the Garrick Club, of which he was a member, and once received a special command to appear at the Royal Palace. When Wallack returned to America in 1828, he went to the Philadelphia Arch Street Theatre, which was under the management of Wood. It so happened that at this time Forrest was at the Walnut, and Cooper at the Chestnut, and the good Quaker populace found themselves " embarras de richesses." Such competi- tion brought to Wallack a salary of two hundred dollars nightly, which sum was unprecedented for the period. On January 7, 1829, he was at the Park Theatre, New York, where he was playing in Miss Mitford's tragedy, "Rienzi." During 1832 the actor was again in London ; this year, on January 25th, he was seen as Martin Hejrwood in Douglas Jerrold's "Rent Day," a piece which he brought to New York in the fall, and the beautiful Fanny Kemble went to see him, leaving a quaint entry in her journal, under date September 5th. She wrote : Came home up Broadway, which is a long street of tolerable width, full of shops, in short, the American Oxford Road, where all people go to exhibit them- selves and examine others. The women that I have seen hitherto have all been very gayly dressed, with a pre- tension to French style, and a more than English ex- aggeration of it. They all appear to me to walk with a French shuffle, which, as their pavements are flat, I can only account for by their wearing shoes made in the French fashion, which are enough in themselves to make a waddler of the best walker that ever set foot to earth. Two or three were pretty girls ; but the town being quite empty, these are probably bad specimens of the graces and charms that adorn Broadway in its season of shining. Came home and had tea; after which, my father, I, and Mr. crossed the Park (a small bit of grass enclosed in white palings; in plain English, a green) to the theatre. Wallack was to act in the "Rent 204 Day." Mercy, how strange I felt as I once more set foot '^|l0 in a theatre ; the sound of the applause set my teeth on edge. The house is pretty, though rather gloomy, well- ^^^IlBCfelS formed, about the size of the Haymarket, with plenty of gold car7ing and red silk about it, looking rich and warm. The audience was considerable, but all men; scarce, I should think, twenty women in the dress- circle, where, by the by, as well as in the private boxes, I saw men sitting with their hats on. "The Rent Day" is a thorough melodrama, only the German monster has put on a red waistcoat and topboots. Nathless this is a good thing of a bad sort; the incidents, though not all probable, or even skilfully tacked together as they might be, are striking and dramatically effective, and the whole piece turns on those home feelings, those bitterest realities of everyday life, that wring one's heart, beyond the pain that one allows works of fiction to excite. ... I cried most bitterly during the whole piece ; for as in his very first scene Wallack asks his wife if she will go with him to America, and she replies, "What! leave the farm?" I set off from thence, and ceased no more. The manager's wife and another woman were in the box, which was his, and I thought we should have carried away the front of it with our tears. Wallack played admirably; I had never seen him before, and was greatly delighted with his acting. I thought him handsome of a rustic kind, the very thing for the part he played, a fine English yeoman; he re- minded me of . At the end of the play came home with a tremendous headache. . . . From 1834 to 1836 Wallack was acting on the other side of the Atlantic ; but notwithstanding, his inter- ests were becoming more and more American, and his enthusiasm was so far awakened as to prompt him to offer a prize of one thousand dollars for a play, to be written by a native dramatist ; in the New York Mirror, a letter dated May 28, 1836, served as the announcement. It was addressed to George P. Morris, Esq., from the packet-ship "Sheffield," and emphasized the fact that the subject must be Amer- ican, with a prominent character for himself, "adapted to me and my dramatick capabilities, such as they may happen to be." Some believe that N. P. 205 ^y^ Willis's "Tortesa, the Usurer," given its first pro- iJt^^UBClijEi duction on April 8, 1839, was the belated result. On September 4, 1837, the New York National Theatre, at the southwest corner of Church and Leonard streets, the first Wallack theatre in history, though not in name, passed under the actor's regime, with his brother Henry as stage-manager. James H. Hackett had, in 1836, bought the house, with Mr, Mauran, a merchant, and they now leased the prop- erty to Wallack. Here Charlotte Cushnian played, and Charles Kean was booked to appear as Richard III, on the evening of September 23, 1839, when the house was burned down, forcing Wallack to move with his company to Niblo's Garden, for a short season. It was not long before he was again in England, this time, August 30, 1840, stage-manager of the Lon- don Haymarket; shortly after, on September nth, he appeared in "The Road to Ruin," as Young Dornton to the Domton of Phelps. Once more he went to Dublin (1841) and then back to the Hay- market, from which he left to act a short while in New York, during 1843-44, at the Park Theatre. That same season he returned to London, playing at the Princess Theatre in Gilbert k Beckett's and Mark Lemon's adaptation of "Don Caesar de Bazan." Until he finally came to the decision of remaining in New York altogether, Wallack was a mere will-o'- the-wisp, thinking nothing of crossing and recrossing the ocean; and he found himself regarded by the public as a remarkable sea-traveller. It was he to whom all eyes turned for a shadow of comfort and assurance, when news — at first uncertain — reached land that the ill-fated "President" had gone down, with Tyrone Power aboard. In 1845 Wallack was again at the Park — and tour- ing all of the important cities in the States ; yet active though he was, he did not neglect the comforts of 206 his American country home, which he called "The -gru/y Hut," and where he was often able to dispense hos- ^*)^ pitality to many a brilUant gathering of friends. This ^^^Uacfe^ family knew what it was to live lavishly ; Lester de- lighted in the pleasures of a yacht. Finally the year 1851 arrived ; then it was that, at the Haymarket Theatre, the elder Wallack, as he was called, to distinguish him from his son, presented his nephew, James W. Wallack, Jr., and made his last appearance before a London audience as St. Pierre in Kxiowles's "The Wife." He had come to the conclu- sion to settle definitely in New York. The outcome of this last decision was the up-building from the financial wreck of John Brougham's Ly- ceum — whose checkered career had stretched from December 23, 1850, to March 17, 1852 — of the first Wallack's Theatre to be so-called [Wallack's Ly- ceum]. For the remainder of his life the actor was closely identified with the management of his houses, and he worked with tact. The very first day, before the lease contracts were signed, he was called upon to exercise his ingenuity. The owner of the property, which was situated near the southwest comer of Broome Street, on Broadway, was a Major Rogers, whose business sagacity and consequent demands had overstepped the rental bounds which Wallack was willing to consider. The two were stand- ing in the auditorium, the empty seats looking deso- late and drear — nothing is so disillusioning as an empty theatre beneath the dusty light of day! "Well," said Wallack, "will you agree to my fig- ures?" "No, no," exclaimed the major, "preposter- ous!" Wallack turned to the yawning seats, a twinkle in his eye, a dignity to his carriage which won for him among his theatrical kin the appella- tion of "Handsome Jem" — Wallack turned and spoke : "Ladies and Gentlemen," he began, and to his imaginary audience he outlined the difl&culties con- 207 -^1^^ fronting him, explained his ambitions — all in so vivid a way that when he finished the major found 3^cllUlCft)3 himself applauding. "Good !" he said. "Come, let's sign the papers at your price !" So it was that the new home was opened on Sep- tember 8, 1852, with Morton's "The Way to Get Married," and the stock company comprised, besides himself, his son Lester, W. R. Blake, John Brough- am, Malonia Pray (afterward Mrs. W. J. Flor- ence), and Laura Keene. The latter remained but a short while, leaving finally to open a theatre of her own. The manager took a benefit on May 29, 1855 ; For- rest, usually averse to the custom prevalent, appeared with E. L. Davenport, on the occasion, in "Damon and P)rthias." This matter of benefits so completely prej- udiced Lester Wallack that when he finally assumed control of matters he aboUshed the privilege, though he himself was destined to be given one of the largest in stage history. At the Academy of Music, on November 20, 1855, "The Merchant of Venice" was presented with Wal- lack as Shylock, supported by Madame Ponisi, Henry Placide, and others, while the after-piece was a con- densed version of "The School for Scandal" with Blake, Lester Wallack, Brougham, Charles Fisher, T. Placide, and Mrs. Julia Dean Hayne in the cast. When, in 1861, James W. Wallack came up to the Thirteenth Street Theatre on Broadway and started another house, his course, as an active person, was wellnigh ended. On the opening night, September 25th, Tom Taylor's "The New President," an apt title, in viev/ of the march of historical events, was presented. Lester was in the cast, having assumed his real name for the first time. Even before this, however, Wallack had ceased to play, his last original role of Colonel Delmar, in his son's drama, "The Vet- eran," being studied early in 1859, while on May 14, 208 i859> ^6 appeared for the final time as Benedick in '^J^C "Much Ado About Nothing." Then, in 1862, he stepped before the curtain to de- Uver a short address. After this he Uved in com- parative retirement, often unable to move, so great was his suffering from gout ; and Charles J. Mathews, always cheerful, would come to his bedside and chat with him — the great Mathews, who was not too great to join Lester's stock company during the season of 1872-73 — a fact which shows a certain spontaneous, generous spirit on the part of "young" Wallack, who was then well on in life himself. On Christmas day, 1864, James W. Wallack died at his home, 210 East Fourteenth Street. The records of this actor speak of his voice, rich and sonorous, all the more attractive because his articulation was clear ; of his rapid movements which filled the whole stage ; and of his temperament, which was keenly and ner- vously aUve. As he was on the stage, so he was off, the dramatic always in evidence. His comedy was characterized by its ease and grace; active at most times, yet the quahty of repose was not stranger to his methods, and the dash and spirit which prompted his actions — very well depicted in the sketches of him made by the famed artist Millais — were tempered by a soft strain of tenderness. Opinions differ greatly concerning Wallack's relative merit as an actor. Originality was often denied him. One would speak of him as belonging to the school of Kemble; another v/ould point to EUiston as the source of all his art. Thackeray liked his Shylock, Macready preferred his Charalois ; Sheridan Knowles laid stress on his Master Walter, which was played to the Juha of Charlotte Cushman ; Miss Kemble wept over his "Rent Day," and Oxberry estimated his tragedy as indifferent. "It was remarked of him," wrote Ireland, "that he was first in his line, but that his line was not the first." William Winter has said : 209 ^allacfe^ Cl)c He particularly shone in comedy. His distinguishing 'SM II < .V characteristic in this field was the easy, graceful, spar- t2/clllctCnj3 kling, winning brilliancy with which he executed his artistic designs. . . . Nobody could doubt or dispute the clearly defined purpose, or the pervasive animation, or the affluent, copious, picturesque grace and variety of execution, with which his artistic purpose was ful- filled. . . . He was everjrwhere at once, in such a part as Benedick or Don Felix, and he filled the scene with pictorial vitality, and dazzled the observer with the opulence of his enjoyment. He was alive to the tips of his fingers, and he was entirely in earnest. The manager showed many of the characteristics of the actor ; in his stage directing, Wallack was pro- gressive, seeking to utilize the latest improvements, and arranging all of his pictures to the best advan- tage. For he was particular as to the quaUty of the work done, and were there a comedian wanted, he needs must be of the highest type. The general ex- cellence of a company was thus raised to a point which, maintained by Lester, ceased to exist when the latter had retired. James William Wallack was a detail actor ; we have already seen what E. A. Sothern gained from his schooling. Here was one who could play Shylock and Don Caesar ; the melancholy Jacques, and Benedick ; who, to his romantic touches, could add what was the characteristic quality of all the Wallacks — a melo- dramatic fervor. James H. Hackett has sketched an early portrait of this actor : His figure and bearing were very distingue; his eye was sparkling; his hair dark, curly, and luxuriant; his facial features finely chiselled; and, together with the natural conformation of his head, throat and chest, Mr. Wallack presented a remarkable specimen of manly beauty. To this may be added another portrait, penned by Mr. Winter: 210 LESTER WALLACK His image, at the last, is that of a slight, erect, agile '^TTl^ figure, clad in black, the face very pale, the features >^y^ sharply defined and handsome, the eyes large, dark, ^^AlTjlCft^ and brilliant, the hair abundant and as white as snow, **'C**4.C*H»?J the head and carriage intellectual and stately, the smile ready and sweet, and the whole demeanor placid and charming with natural and perfect refinement. Since 1817 Wallack had been married to (some ac- counts say he eloped with) the daughter of John Johnstone, an Irish singer of sweet quality and pop- ular manner ; the young Mrs. Wallack brought with her a dowry of ;/^20,ooo. While occasional mention is made of her, her father was by far the more inter- esting person. He had served in the British army. "He was," said WiUiam Stuart, "what is termed in Ireland, *a gentleman by birth,' coming from fine old stock in Kilkenny, famed, Uke Argos of old, for its noble steeds and lovely women, and, by remarkable coincidence, the native county also of Power." * Like Power, Johnstone was, to use Florence's terms, "a splendid gentleman, a ripe scholar, an admirable actor," and his success, first started with his role, Captain Macheath, in the "Beggar's Opera," won for him a place of honor among the motley companions of the wild Prince. So intimate was he with royalty that he would often receive such peremptory orders as the following : Carleton House, Wednesday. Dear Johnstone: The Prince wishes you to come to Carleton House to-night. Moore and Sheridan will be there. If you have to play, you must sham sick. Yours ever, Farquhar. When George IV came to the throne, Farquhar was appointed his equerry. Around 1867, Lester Wallack * As a matter of fact. Power was bom in the county of Waterford. 211 ■jrjj^ was in London, and he went with Florence to St. * Paul's churchyard, and exclaimed: "Here, my ma- il^tlllflCii^ temal grandfather, Jack Johnstone, the Irish come- dian and an intimate of the Prince of Wales, Ues buried." In early years, when James Wallack made his first trip to America, his brother Henry was acting in Baltimore (i8i8). Some playbills give as the initial date in America, May 9, 1821, and the Anthony Street Theatre, New York, as the place. His role was Young Norval. [He was bom in London in 1790, and died in New York, August 30, 1870.] At Drury Lane, on October 26, 1829, he was Julius Caesar to the Marc Antony of his brother, and subsequently became stage-manager of Covent Garden. At another time he managed the Old Chatham Theatre. His career as an actor, while not pronounced, was varied in its character portraits, and stamped chiefly by its melo- dramatic quaUties : "The Man With the Iron Mask," "Hamlet," Sir Peter Teazle, Coriolanus, Squire Broadlands, in "A Country Squire," and Anthony Absolute. He was married twice, having divorced his first wife, Miss Fanny Jones. She was a danseuse of considerable ability, and as a soubrette was popular in farces and after-pieces. The second Mrs. Henry Wallack, who was a Miss Turpin, was bom in Liverpool, and made her debut in 1830, at the Haymarket, where she played Polly in the " Beggar's Opera." Her American appearance was at the Arch Street Theatre, on June 19, 1837 ; in May, i860, she was playing under the name Mrs. Anderson, and while in London during that year she died very suddenly, on July i8th. Her fame rested chiefly on her beautiful voice. By his first marriage Henry Wallack was the father of two daughters and a son, all known to the stage. Julia, who was a Mrs. W. Hoskins, and who at one period acted in London as Julia Harland, and Fanny, 212 who became Mrs. Charles Moor house, made their 'dThZ debuts with their father, in "The Hunchback," at " the New Chatham Theatre, on December 23, 1839. ^^BUECBjS JuUa was best noted for her music, which found ex- pression in EngUsh and Italian opera. Her sister exceeded her in range and excellence. During the season of 1847-48, she was leading lady at the old Broadway Theatre, a house on the east side of Broad- way (326), between Pearl and Worth streets. It was a crude but large place, seating 4,500 persons, and usually filled to overflowing, since the admission was but twenty-five cents. However fine the programme, comfort existed at a minimum, since the seats were but ordinary benches, not even graced with backs. In 1 85 1 Fanny Wallack was in the company of Mrs. Mo watt, and the following year was supporting E. Eddy. Her repertoire consisted of such characters as Juliet, Mrs. Haller in "The Stranger," Ophelia, JuUa in "The Hunchback," EUzabeth in "Richard III," and Nancy Sikes. While filUng an engagement under Burton, she played Rosalind. Her death oc- curred in Edinburgh, on October 12, 1856. As an actress, Ireland considered her "graceful, spirited, pretty, and like all the Wallacks, extremely pict- uresque in attitude and action." But far more famous than either of his sisters, and more active and versatile than his father, was J. W. Wallack, Jr. ("Jim"), a young man who soon won the approbation of his uncle, after whom he was named. He was bom in London on February 24, 1815, and was on the stage at the Chestnut Street Theatre when scarce four years old, as Cora's Child in "Pizarro." In 1836-37 he went to the New York National, under Tom Flynn; at this place he first began to attract attention in roles of dash that demanded bearing and spirit. But if accounts are to be believed, he did not find recognition an easy matter ; in his youth, so some claim, he was passing 213 Cljc awkward — a natural flaw which few of the Wallacks possessed. Jefferson does not hold to this description, il^clllclCli0 for when he saw the actor in these early days, he was "young, vigorous, and handsome. He was . . . most romantic-looking . . . ; there was a dash and spirit in his carriage, too, that was charming. I say he was at his best in those days, because in after-years, the acting of Macready, whom as an artist he idoUzed, had an unfortunate influence upon him, as he ulti- mately became imbued with the mannerisms of the English tragedian, which were so marked that they marred the natural grace of the imitator." On the evening of March 8, 1851, young Wallack was at the London Haymarket, playing Othello. Afterwards he managed the Marylebone Theatre, where his wife acted in Shakespeare ; and he, with an English company, crossed the Channel to Paris. In 1852 he was back in America at the Philadelphia Arch Street Theatre, appearing as Macbeth on No- vember 8th ; then joining a strolling company in Cali- fornia, and after that entering into a brilliant asso- ciation with E. L. Davenport, during which his Fagin in "OUver Twist," and Henry Dunbar in "The Man With the Iron Mask,"' were speedily recognized, after which he became an integral part of Wallack's stock company. In 1870 he was filling time at the Boston Globe Theatre, and then turned to Booth's Theatre, where he attracted notice by his personation of Mathias in "The Bells." At one time he supported Adelaide Neilson, playing Mercutio and Jacques. Young Wallack had married, around 1842, a Mrs. Sefton, who was otherwise known as Miss Ann Waring, and through this alUance the Wallacks might claim a very indirect connection with several other actor-famiUes. Leigh Waring, the lady's fa- ther, played at the New York Park, as Rover in "Wild Oats," on May 20, 1812. Two years after, on June 23, 1814, he married Caroline Placide, and in 1815 Ann 214 was bom. Mr. Waring died in 1817, and in 1826 his -griifr widow married the actor, W. R. Blake. At a benefit ^ given to these two, at the Chatham Garden Theatre, 3^&ll3lC6j2f on September 27, 1828, Miss Waring appeared as Amanthis in "The Child of Nature." T. A. Cooper was the manager. One interesting source contradicts this date as her first appearance, and places that event on the evening of January 6, 1829, when, at the Chestnut Street Theatre, she acted a role, Emily, in "Family Jars." Barnes was the chief person in the cast, the story runs, and so stage-struck was the poor girl that she had to be led from the boards. But it is more probable that she was seen first under the tute- lage of her stepfather. By May 20, 1829, Miss Waring was with J. H. Hackett's company, when he assumed control of the Chatham Theatre, then called The American Opera House. By August 2, 1830, Hackett and Hamblin were managing the Bowery Theatre, and here Miss Waring again joined the stock com- pany. In 1836 she was playing Jane Shore, and supporting Charlotte Cushman. It is most interest- ing to recall the estimate put by Jefferson on her work, after her second marriage, in comparison with Cushman, He wrote in his "Autobiography" : All who remember Mrs. James W. Wallack, Jr., will attest the force of her tragic acting. In the quality of queenly dignity, I think she even surpassed Charlotte Cushman, though she lacked, perhaps, the spirit and fire of the latter. On March 19, 1837, Miss Waring was married to WilUam Sefton, whose popularity as an actor was greatly increased by his association with his brother, John Sefton. When J. W. Wallack assumed control of the Na- tional Theatre, Mrs. Sefton joined the company, on September 4, 1837. She was playing Emilia to his Othello on October 24th. The next year, beginning 215 '^l)r July 28th, she transferred to the Franklin Theatre, which was under the management of Blake, and xl^alwCn)3 there played Claude Melnotte to the Pauline of Mrs. George Barrett. During that season Mrs. Sefton appeared as Her- mione to Forrest's Damon, and on January 25, 1839, became the original Smike in "Nicholas Nickleby." This engagement of 1839-40 was diversified. She played Servia with Forrest as Virginius ; and when the National was destroyed by fire on October i, 1839, she went over to Niblo's Garden with the company, acting the Queen in a performance of "Hamlet," with John Vandenhoff as the lead. In 1839, also, Sefton died, and around 1842 his widow married Wallack. On April 27, 1842, for a 278th anniversary of Shake- speare's birth, Mrs. Ann Sefton played Romeo with Mrs. Melinda Jones as her Juliet. The alUance with Wallack, if it occurred this year at all (some sources give a latitude circa 1841-44), must have been after the performance above mentioned. Mrs. Wal- lack was now often seen with her husband, the two presenting "The Lady of Lyons" on April 25, 1845. When William Stuart was managing the Broome Street Theatre during June, 1857, Mrs. Wallack's repertoire consisted of Bianca, Romeo, and Lady Gay Spanker. She died on February 11, 1879. The acting of this lady was of an exceptional order. Her person was shaped for tragedy, though she seems to have been kept from being great by certain idio- syncrasies ("Bowery mannerisms," Ireland called them) which destroyed her grace, and made one feel the lack of her refinement. "She had too much en- ergy and fire," said one, "We Uke her mirth better than her melancholy," said another. Regarding the other members of the elder Wallack's family, Mary assumed heavy parts, and came to America, where, as Mrs. Hill, she appeared at the Chatham Theatre, on June 11, 1827. EUzabeth never 216 reached this country, but married a showman by W\^t the name of Pincott; they had a daughter, Leonora, ^^ITflrfert who was a rope-dancer and a fancy performer on *»^»**«»''*P stilts, and who bettered her station somewhat by marrying the actor, Alfred Wigan. The direct descendant of the Waliack tradition, how- ever, was John Johnstone Waliack, who was bom at midnight on December 31, 1819 (Varick Street, New York), so near the verge of either day that it was uncertain whether he did not arrive as a New Year's gift ; a doubt set at rest by himself in after- years (1848), since he adopted the date January i, 1820, the day being his wife's anniversary also. Educated in England, we hear in his own words, how he became drawn to the stage. "My first experience on any stage," so he wrote in his "Memories," "was at an establishment at Mitcham, in Surrey, called Baron House Academy, a fine old man- sion which had become a private school. Colman's 'Heir-at-Law' was produced immediately before the beginning of the summer holidays, upon an improvised stage in the school-room, with the English usher as prompter and general manager. As a son of 'the cele- brated Mr. Waliack,' it was felt proper, naturally, that I should take part, and between the acts, I was billed for the speech from Home's tragedy of 'Douglas' — 'My name is Norval' — although I was only ten years of age. I was dressed in a red tunic trimmed with fur, white trousers and red shoes, and carried a round wooden shield, and a wooden sword, painted blue. As for the lines, I suppose I must have painted them red." This then was his entrance to a profession which was by no means the choice made for him by his parents. The family were well known, and the elder Waliack had many influential friends, among whom could be counted the Duke of Beaufort ; hence a commission in the army was offered to young Lester. The boy was a great favorite, and his leaving home was put off from time to time until he had reached the age of 217 aLIJC twenty-two. Then he himself came to a decision; he XIJiilT^srhcj ^^^ passed the year when the usual entrance was ii/ailaCUf> made, and now he would not go. It is more than like- ly his inclination, rather than his diffidence, brought him to this stand. Two of his brothers, however, filled commissions, Henry as a captain, serving in the Sikh campaign, and Charles in the Indian army. The latter died in New York; the former served as governor of the Millbank Penitentiary, London, besides being gentleman-at-arms in Buckingham Palace. Once decided in his mind, it did not take Lester long to place himself on the boards. There are contradic- tory data as to when his first appearance occurred. Some would say that after the burning of the Na- tional Theatre in 1839, when his father went to England, the son, adopting the name of Allan Field, played with him as Angelo in Willis's "Tortesa, the Usurer," besides appearing as Macduff and Rich- mond. Others would claim that he opened in Rochester, England, as the Earl of Rochester, in John Howard Payne's "Charles II," which Charles Kemble and Fawcett were presenting under the management of Henry Wallack. Such an existence as usually befell a beginner must have befallen Lester as well ; he would not take advantage of the fact that he was the son of "the great Wallack.'* Travelling by coach, he would often be forced to study a new part while rolling along over the un- even roadway, sitting up the whole night, in order to be "letter perfect" for rehearsal the next morning. There are two other points worthy of consideration : one, that the first appearance did not really occur until 1842, when Lester assumed the role of Don Pedro, while his father was acting Benedick; the other, that somewhere between this date and 1847, when he first played in New York, he made a social visit to America. That initial performance or ap- 218 pearance, was literally a disappearance, for at the ~^^ Broadway Theatre, managed by George Barrett vLyC (September 27, 1847), he fell through a trap-door ^^^XX^CJ^g while playing Sir Charles Coldstream, in "Used Up," a farce, well named in view of such a mishap. During this season of 1847-48 he took such roles as Cap- tain Absolute, Sir Frederick Blount in Bulwer's "Money," Osric to Murdoch's Hamlet, and then Mercutio. But before this young Wallack had ob- tained elsewhere a most Uberal training. For instance, at Manchester, he had his first experi- ence as Benedick to the inspiring Beatrice of Helen Faucit, a woman of superlative grace and charm, and one whose intellect did much for the drama ; her association with Macready afforded her a generous outlet for the exercise of her talents. When Wallack played with her, G. V. Brooke, he of the stentorian voice, was her lead. The young actor wrote of her : She gave me more encouragement than I had ever received before, and the patience with which she re- hearsed, for I was young and inexperienced then, was remarkable. She did what must have been very irksome to her, and went over our scenes again and again with me, until I got my part in some kind of shape; and it was through her kindness that I made something of a hit Wallack had even, in 1845, unexpectedly assumed the role of Mercutio, when Charlotte Cushman played Romeo to her sister's JuUet, thereby winning due praise from the great tragedienne, who spoke of him, behind his back, as "the coming young man," thinking to arouse the interest of Ben Webster of the Haymarket. To Wallack, however, she was much bolder in her statements: "There is a great future before you," she said, in her masculine manner, "if you take care, and do not let your vanity run away with you." Just before leaving England he was cast 219 dl^t in "London Assurance" as Dazzle, a part originally assumed by Charles Mathews. 3yt^^ll^Cfe0 Thereafter Lester Wallack steadily rose in public favor as a player, a dramatist, and a manager. Flor- ence remembered him at the outset of his American career. "He was tall, straight as an Indian, graceful and distinguished in appearance, with piercing black eyes, [and] an abundance of jet-black hair." At the Chatham Theatre, 1848, the dramatization of "Monte Cristo" gave him scope for the active part of Edmund Dantes, which had a long and successful run. During 1849 he presented to the public two of his own pieces : "The Three Guardsmen" (November 12th), with himself (still as Mr. Lester), the d'Artag- nan ; J. W. Wallack, Jr., the Athos ; and John Gilbert, the Porthos. This was followed by his "The Four Musketeers, or Ten Years After" (December 24th). "It was from *Monte Cristo,'" he wrote, "that I got what celebrity I ever had in melodramatic charac- ters, and, singular to say, most of the greatest suc- cesses I ever had were in parts which were a mixture of the serious and comic." Beginning September 2, 1850, Wallack became asso- ciated with Burton's Chambers Street Theatre, and during his two seasons* stay there he appeared in many parts, the most worthy being Charles Surface and Sir Andrew Aguecheek. From this time on his career was one with the thea- tres managed by his father and himself, both up- holding high aims, both making daring ventures. At the Broome Street house, young Wallack's roles were diverse : Don Pedro, Orlando, Bassanio, The Debilitated Cousin in "Bleak House" (October 13, 1853) ; besides De Rameau in his own play "Two to One, or The King's Visit" (December 6, 1854) ; Pev- eril, in his comedy, "First Impressions" (Septem- ber 17, 1856) ; Leon Delmar in his "The Veteran" (January 17, 1859) ; Manuel in his adaptation of 220 *j 9 "S 1 u ib ■g 1 3 < II i_. ^ '4 9 fP, « H w a 5^1^ ^===-G 1 --^' National Theatre Broadway and Broome Street '' ' ay. I '..^^^. ^■ynr ^^il U& ^HiT ^U- L-^ y J21^ ■ '^" ■ . •l4 ftll *--ifc:~*5^^^^ Broadway and 13th Street Broadway and 30th Street THE WALLACK THEATRES "The Romance of a Poor Young Man" (January 24, -grTl^ i860) ; and finally (February 14, 1861), Wyndham ^^"'^ Otis, in his local drama, "Central Park." There is WM^CU^ reference also to two other plays by him: "The Fortimes of War," and "Americans in Paris," which latter was written in collaboration. When the theatre closed on April 29, 1861, Lester was in the cast which presented "Jessie Brown." Throughout its existence this house had maintained a superlative stock company; in quick succession we find mentioned Laura Keene (1852), E. A. Sothem (1854), alias "Douglas Stuart," Henry Placide (1855), George Holland (1855), Mary Gannon (1855), Mrs. John Wood (1856), Effie Germon (1858), and Made- leine Henriques (i86o), besides John Brougham. At the Thirteenth Street Theatre, Lester practically assumed complete charge ; he had, until this time, called himself John Lester, but now he adopted his rightful title, and began that poUcy of management which mounted plays lavishly and assembled brilUant casts. He himself continually assumed new charac- terizations; his father never acted in this theatre. He met success as ElUot Grey in his own "Rose- dale" (September 30, 1863), a play which was the outcome of a discussion he had had with Thackeray, who beUeved that a "middle-aged romance" upon the boards would fail to attract the public fancy. In this piece the ballad, "Lord Bateman was a noble lord," became a part of the play, because it was a favorite of the actor's, having been sung to him when a boy. Then followed Hugh Chalcote in "Ours" (December 19, 1866) ; Col. John White in "Home" (December 8, 1869); Henry Beauclerc in "Diplomacy" (April i, 1878), while on March 10, 1879, he played Prosper Couramont in "A Scrap of Paper." The house closed on April 11, 1881. During its history it had gathered together a host of notable 221 'Cl)C names: Charles Fisher (1861) ; John Gilbert (1862) ; a>)salTsarf*d ■^- ^* Davenport (1865) ; J. W. Wallack, Jr. (1865) ; t£/aiiaill3 Charles James Mathews (1872) ; and H. J. Montague (1874). Here also, on December 27, 1867, was given "Oliver Twist," with J. W. Wallack, Jr., as Fagin; Davenport as Bill Sikes; Rose E3rtinge as Nancy; and George Holland as Bumble. It was likewise in the office of this theatre that Boucicault first discussed the mounting of his play, "The Shaughraun." The Wallack Theatre, which is still a landmark on Broadway and Thirtieth Street, was opened on Jan- uary 4, 1882, with "The School for Scandal"; Rose Coghlan was the Lady Teazle, and John Gilbert the Sir Peter. Wallack was in control until October, 1887. In those five years, much was done to uphold the pres- tige of former fame ; but "young" Wallack was ad- vancing in years. On May 29, 1886, he made his last appearance at the New York Grand Opera House in "She Stoops to Conquer," playing Young Marlow, with Gilbert and Madame Ponisi as Mr. and Mrs. Hardcastle. Thereafter he was seen but once in public, when, on May 21, 1888, he made a curtain speech during his famous benefit. It was an historic one and will ever remain so; it was organized and managed by Augustin Daly and A. M. Palmer. The exceptional cast for "Hamlet," which was the play selected, con- sisted of the following : Hamlet, Edwin Booth; Ghost of Hamlet's Father, Lawrence Barrett; King Claudius, Frank Mayo;Polo- nius, John Gilbert; Laertes, Eben Plympton; Horatio, John A. Lane; Rosencranz, Charles Hanford; Guilden- stern, Lawrence Hanley ; Osric, Charles Koehler ; Mar- cellus, Edwin H. Vanderfelt ; Bernardo, Herbert Kelcey ; Francisco, Frank Mordaunt; First Actor, Joseph Whee- lock; Second Actor, Milnes Lavick; First Gravedigger, Joseph Jefferson ; Second Gravedigger, W. J. Florence ; Priest, Harry Edwards; Ophelia, Helena Modjeska; The Queen, Gertrude Kellogg ; The Player Queen, Rose Coghlan. 222 The proceeds realized amounted to about $21,000. '^hC This was the final curtain for Lester Wallack, wh© ^ii%||j*-.fe(!i died at his home near Stamford, Connecticut, on ^viiinCUp September 6, 1888. With him the family practically ends, even though he had sons, having married, in 1848, Emily Mary Millais, the eldest sister of Sir John E. Millais. One of these sons, Arthur, was associate manager of Wallack's at one time, and had dramatic aspirations. A daughter, Florence, became Mrs. Sew- ell. Then there is a grandson, who calls himself Lester Wallack, Jr., and who made his debut at Proctor's in New York, playing in vaudeville a one-act piece en- titled "Comedy and Tragedy" (February 7, 1898). When the name Wallack is mentioned, however, it is either Lester or his father, or his cousin, who is meant, for they stamped the family, having in common many marked characteristics. The Wallack theatres are a tradition worth heeding. Criticise them — and the harsh opinion is often just — yet without them it would be hard to reckon. Col. T. Allston Brown's dis- paragement is keenly exact. Lester Wallack, so it is claimed, was a benefit to the drama at large, but he did nothing to advance the profession. "Wallack's Theatre," writes the colonel, "while it employed many good actors, never made one." Besides, Lester, himself prominent, failed to encourage the young actor, and never employed the native writer. What he did, which might be accounted exceptional, was to present before the public, plays of foreign make, which were worthy of presentation and of preserva- tion. As an actor he was the epitome of the Wallack style, which style was melodramatic and popular, without being profound. All critics agree in their estimates. Robert Buchanan claimed for Wallack naturalness, "when to be natural was to be grand" ; he likewise claimed for him "the domain of brilliant romance," in which he showed his possession of a "perfect 223 '^\yt breadth of style, combined with ineffable grace of manner." Wallack understood the value of situation, ^^llnCu0 so stated J. Ranken Towse: "True passion, whether of love or hate, it was not in his power to express, nor could he stir the depths of pathos, although he could strike a note of virile tenderness with unerring truth." It just happened, according to Mr. Towse, that the actor's mannerisms pleased, for he was in- capable of becoming other than himself. William Winter praised him for preserving the tradition of the old school ; he was a specialty actor of the old comedy style, said another, "the bewitching unnatu- rahties of the Sheridan-Tobin-Goldsmith-Bickerstaff school." As actors, as managers, the Wallacks may not have been moving forces, but they were exceptional ex- amples. In no family thus far considered has the general excellence of both the men and the women been so nearly on the same plane. Should we char- acterize them by a phrase, as we did in the cases of the Booths and Jeffersons, we might say that the very name, Wallack, spelled either romance or melo- drama. 224 IX— THE DAVENPORTS OS ♦ a M u a "^ ^ « 00 3 cjS - c3 .a s as >J 5 we 9) s to S "C ^ CS e ja • --^ CD o d rt CD ■r^ 00 1—1 -4-> ^ ^^ *£ 2 bo 05. S * » 1 1 ID PQ o Q ler Davenport m. (1849) Fanny Vini (1829-1891 ly Vining * May* 853-1878) (b. 1856) g TO. William Seym Davenport Seym jecame actors. here to 1814, while :s. ;1 Barrymore. o o who 1 ies ad husett Lione 1^ zn ►JC < < s w ^ H H ♦ famil autho Mass e: Mr o 01 |§ a CO !► OJ ? or ^ a . 1 n t. !? t- t. Ss Membe Many e Of Cha P'ide D • <3 « % * .^ c» p> v aui |i|^Ul ip gjjjj ^jjg night before our interview the old gentleman had occupied a front seat, and cried all through the play of 'Daniel Druce' . . . ." It was several years before the drama laid a defin- ing finger upon Davenport. Yet as dry-goods clerk he sought seclusion under the counter to read the latest printed play. To him, the chief event during the time he worked with his father at the Exchange Coffee-House was his meeting with Forrest, who in later years was to be drawn toward him of his own accord. For, one night, he witnessed Davenport's Joseph Surface, and noting a certain innovation in costume made by the young actor, became interested and inquired further about him. Previous to this, however, Davenport had spent a short time at Lynn as hotel clerk for his elder brother. In spare moments, now over a baker's shop, again over a stable, the boy's interest was cen- tred in the Junius Booth Dramatic Association, where he learned rudimentary principles, and where he was drawn into the dramatic profession. There was another organization, possessed of a high- sounding name, and no more popular member of the Siddonian Dramatic Club could be found than young E. L. Davenport. So strong had the taste become that no matter how much the father opposed, when he expressed his determination to go on the boards, the son, aided by another of his brothers, met George H. Barrett, a member of the Boston Tremont Theatre Company, and through him was able to secure a position at Providence, to support the elder Booth. Thus began the career of the first prominent member of the Davenport family. The initial r61e, assumed with considerable nervous- ness, was Wellborn in Massinger's "A New Way 228 to Pay Old Debts," with Junius as Sir Giles; the "Cl^C young actor's earnestness, together with Booth's r^f*YiPtXt\fl encouragement, served him well, and during the en- >fc^»*'vJipU gagement, his Montano ("Othello"), Duke of Albany ("King Lear"), and Marcellus ("Hamlet"), gained some small attention, not to Mr. Davenport, but to a Mr. Dey or Dee, imder which name he was billed. In after-years, he was to win renown in Booth's part of Sir Giles. While playing at Newport, Davenport, handsome and graceful as he was, further added to his success by his appearance in Douglas Jerr old's "Black-Eyed Susan," and this led to his transfer to the Boston Tremont Theatre (circa 1837), where he became a member of the stock company. As yet he was not to act the leading role in Jerrold's play. This drama had been written for ElUston, who was managing the old Sur- rey Theatre in London, and it was presented with the sub-title "All in the Downs," on June 8, 1829. On that occasion T. P. Cooke assumed the part of Will- iam, and in the after-piece, which was none other than "The Pilot," he played Long Tom Coffin. In 1 84 1 Davenport, still supporting, appeared at the Philadelphia Arch Street Theatre as Captain Cross- tree to the WilUam of E. S. Conner and the Susan of Mrs. W. R. Blake. It was not until after his en- gagement with Macready that Davenport himself appeared as WilUam, and then only because Webster persuaded him to do so; his wife was in the cast. From a stage-box Douglas Jerrold, with Dickens and Thackeray, viewed the performance, and on the mor- row they were referred to by the papers as a "box of novelists." This role of William was destined to become one of Davenport's most popular personations, for besides acting, he could sing and dance as well. It is recorded how a sailor, having witnessed the performance in after-years, wrote that Davenport quite knocked the 229 '^hf salt-water out of his top-lights. Fanny Davenport's earliest recollection of the play was weeping incon- iDtluCnpOttjSJ solably over William when her father assumed the part at Burton's Theatre. "I recall this first theatrical experience," she wrote, "the anticipation, prepara- tion, and almost hysterical feeling with which I took my seat in the private box, with my favorite full-dress, and a cherry bow at my throat and on my head — bits of finery indispensable whenever I went out." The utiUty experience gained at the Tremont Thea- tre, which was being managed by Thomas Barry, lasted for two seasons. Davenport played the First Officer in Mrs. Gore's comedy "King O'Neal," which had been written for Tyrone Power, and he supported Forrest, who, appearing as Claude Melnotte one night, cast the young man as Deschapelles. The critics, their attention drawn to Davenport's Charles Court- ley of this period, commended his voice, for the reason that he neither bellowed — so they averred — nor shouted. His training was in the vigorous school that produced thorough actors. Ellen Tree, Booth, Vandenhoff, Murdoch, each one of them claimed him for support. He spent several seasons at the Philadelphia Walnut Street Theatre, and on August 9, 1843, some author- ities assert, he made his first New York appearance, playing with Mrs. Henry Hunt (Mrs. John Drew) in "He's Not Amiss." He studied parts in plays that have now become classic, and in dramas long since forgotten — names that sound impossible to the mod- em ear. Not ashamed was he either of his tenor voice ; many a time he would sing "between" pieces, such as "Sally in Our Alley" and "The Bay of Bis- cay." He was also favorably regarded when he appeared as Thaddeus, singing in "The Bohemian Girl." There are many conflicting references regarding Davenport's New York engagement. Whether that 230 E. L. DAVENPOKP debut occurred on December 27, 1843, or April 19, ^h^ 1845, is of little consequence; the play is certain, _^ , , as is also the place; for he acted Titus in Payne's ?^3utnpOt^tj5 "The Fall of Tarquin," at the Bowery Theatre, with Hamblin as Brutus. On the night of April 19, 1845, the theatre was burned to the ground, and the com- pany was forced to the Bowery Amphitheatre, where Davenport did not remain any length of time, for he was soon starring at the Boston Museum as Duke Dorgan in "Presumptive Evidence." But it was not until he met Mrs. Mowatt at Niblo's Garden on July 14, 1845, when, as Beauseant, he was in the cast with her as Pauline, and W. H. Crisp as Claude Melnotte, that his signal advance occurred. A short season at the New York Bowery Theatre began for Davenport on August 4, 1845, when he became leading man, playing Sir Adelbert in "The Sleeping Beauty," Charles in "Charles II," and Ivanhoe in a play of that name, with F. S. Chanfrau as Cedric and Mrs. Jones as Rebecca. On July 9, 1846, Davenport took his benefit, as Wildrake in "The Love Chase," with Mrs. Hunt as Constance. In her reminiscences Mrs. John Drew wrote : Mr. E. L. Davenport was a very fine actor. I first met him at the old Chestnut Street Theatre, when he was a very handsome young man. Even at that time he was very versatile, and always continued so, to his detri- ment, it was thought. When he had the new Chestnut, I saw him play Sir Giles Overreach in a masterly man- ner. As Sir Giles, Mr. Davenport surpassed even the elder Booth, and to those who remember that great actor, nothing can be said beyond that. During the summer of 1846 Davenport followed the example of so many contemporary actors and went to Albany, where he rapidly became a favorite. There he played Claude Melnotte to the Pauline of Mrs. Melinda Jones, and soon after became the chief sup- port in Mrs. Mowatt's company. 231 tlDl)C The association with that lady was his making ; with 3natirtltinti"rt ^^^^ experience than she possessed, he was able to ^aUlU^Ulip strengthen materially her methods and to train her; while she, with her influence, opened a way for his steady rise. Together, they appeared at the Park Theatre on September 26, 1846, in "Romeo and Ju- liet," and they also played Benedick and Beatrice, Fazio and Bianca. Soon afterward they went South, and where they found no theatres — it being the case in many a Southern town — they would substitute readings in any available hall, Davenport adding much to the programme by his voice. So they trav- elled by slow stages, from Macon to Columbus, Georgia, thence to Montgomery, and from there to Mobile, Alabama. Mrs. Mowatt's autobiography is enlightening and appreciative ; her tribute to Davenport is keenly dis- criminating : "Edward L. Davenport, of Boston," she wrote, "was strongly recommended to Mr. Mowatt by old and lead- ing members of the profession. His high moral char- acter, his unassuming and gentleman-like manners, his wonderful versatility and indisputable talents, caused him to be selected as the person who was to travel with us during my second year on the stage. Upon this selection, every succeeding month and year gave us new cause for congratulation. The prominent position he has since won upon the English stage, and the honors he has received from fastidious English audiences, are the just reward of intrinsic, but most un- ostentatious merit. The American public were doubly satisfied with the choice made of a professional asso- ciate, because Mr. D. is a countryman." It was during the Southern tour that the two met Henry Clay aboard a boat plying between Louisville and Vicksburg. Whether it be true or not, the meet- ing between Davenport and the statesman, as re- ported, was exceedingly humorous. The actor sud- denly disappeared below deck, and dressed himself in 232 outlandish fashion, with a red wig ; soon he shambled '^1^ t upstairs and startled Mrs. Mowatt and members of 3^;»Vl^1t11ftrf"(< the company by his assumed Yankee dialect. He TJ^f^VKllj^uVlp turned to Mowatt. "Stranger," he drawled, "I hear that's Henry Clay ; I guess I'll scrape up acquaint- ance." The formalities of an introduction were done away with, and a good laugh was the result. Later, Davenport decided to go abroad with the com- pany, and Mowatt sailed ahead to make prepara- tions. In the meantime, at the Park Theatre, on Sep- tember 23, 1847, Sheridan Knowles's "Love" was acted. Mrs. Mowatt all the while was busily occu- pied in writing her drama "Armand," the title role being especially modelled for Davenport's "vigorous and impulsive style." It was given on the evening of September 27th, and in her enthusiasm, Mrs. Mo- watt appears to have forgotten herself: "Mr. Davenport's personation of Armand," she wrote, "gained him fresh laurels. I was too nervous and too tormented with anxieties for the success of the play to embody the character of Blanche to my own satisfac- tion." But later she saw reasons to revise this piece, and it was given with greater success at the Theatre Royal, Marylebone, on January 18, 1849. This was the same season that she played RosaUnd to Davenport's Or- lando. After a short stay in Boston, the company sailed for Liverpool on November i, 1847, and opened at the Manchester Royal Theatre, on December 6th, in "The Lady of Lyons," reaching London on January 5, 1848, when, at the Princess Theatre, they presented "The Hunchback," with Mrs. Mowatt as Julia, and Davenport as Sir Thomas Clifford ; while on the next day "Much Ado About Nothing" was the bill. Writing home in February, 1848, Davenport speaks of the first reception: 233 -».| It will take us some little time to get our posts well ^l)C bedded in the soil of their beef-eating, porter-guzzling T>-*V»<»«t«rtff «i hearts, but when we do, "git out o' the way, old Dan jLL)aDl lipOrip Tucker." . . . Tell Ayhng I have seen nothing here of my size, age, looks, and weight, that I fear. . . . Gilbert is at the same house we are playing at, and he is held in high esteem. There were three of us the other night in one piece, and we did go it strong, each proud of the other. When Knowles's drama, "Love," was presented, a Miss Fanny Vining was in the cast; she was the daughter of a London comedian, Frederick Vining. At the time of her birth, on July i6, 1829, her father was managing the Haymarket Theatre, and the fact that her mother was a daughter of John Johnstone, already mentioned, at once links the Davenport and Wallack famiUes. Miss Vining was no exception to the general rule, for she was led on the stage when only three, and at the age of eighteen was playing JuUet to the Romeo of G. V. Brooke, and the Mer- cutio of her father. When she joined Mrs. Mowatt's company she was a Mrs. Gill, but was free in person to marry again. Her character pleased Mrs. Mowatt and impressed Davenport, who looked beyond her mere artistic ability and fell in love with her. On January 8, 1849, the two were married, Mrs. Daven- port still continuing to play under her maiden name. She it was who gave a fervid impersonation of Romeo that season to the JuUet of Mrs. Mowatt, and to Davenport's Mercutio. In all the casts, she filled roles of considerable scope. After her husband's death, Mrs. Davenport continued to act occasion- ally, her last part being Lady Macbeth at the Boston Globe Theatre, on April 7, 1890. She died on July 20th of the following year. Davenport's association with Mrs. Mowatt was an agreeable one ; from the Princess Theatre they went to the Olympic, where they were joined by G. V. Brooke. While at this house, Macready's attention was turned to Davenport, and indeed the young actor 234 was winning renown everywhere. Contrasted with Brooke, one critic claimed : When he [Davenport] plays lago to Mr. Brooke's Othello, lago is the ruling spirit of the piece; but when the cast is reversed, lago sinks to the level of a trucu- lent ruffian, and Othello rises into the dignity of a brave, honorable, and injured man. The company was seen in a varied repertoire during the Theatre Royal engagement; there were "Cym- beline," "Twelfth Night," and "Romeo and Juliet," in which Mrs. Davenport repeated her success in the male role. Then the company returned to the New Ol5mipic during 1849-50, the old house having been burned, and they opened the theatre with "Two Gen- tlemen of Verona." Mrs. Mowatt read an inaugural address, and did not appear in the cast of the play, which was reinforced by the name of Alfred Wigan. "Much Ado About Nothing" and "Othello" were Uke- wise presented. On February 19, 1850, George Henry Lewes's "The Noble Heart" was played, after which Mrs. Mowatt mounted her "Fashion," giving Mrs. Davenport the woman's lead, and Davenport the role of Adam Trueman. The author, not playing herself, realized, before the piece was finished, that because of certain political views expressed, it was not meeting with favor, and her opinion was further heightened by the audible sound of hisses. But about Davenport's work she was gracious. "The happy blending of deep pathos and hearty humor in his embodiment made the per- formance a memorable one." As an actor, this period of his career showed him full of life and vigor, ele- gance of person, and rare modulation and clarity of speech. Mrs. Mowatt's season was hastily brought to a close by some dishonest transaction on the part of her manager. She was broken in health, and Macready 235 'i^l^t had his eyes on Davenport. So the co-stars parted T^i\iriiiinrfC< company, to play together again only on one occa- ^'aUliipuilp sion, when Davenport travelled some distance to ap- pear in "Armand" for Mrs. Mowatt's benefit. Before passing to the next decade of this actor's life, it is necessary to hear what he had to say of the theatrical conditions as seen by himself, an Ameri- can, during his early stay in England. A letter dated Brighton, April 4, 1849, runs as follows: My dear Friend F. : Well, we are still here in John BuUdom, and are still better Yankees than ever; our last success has raised us in our own estimation several feet, and per cent, to match. We feel thanks. Yankees are some "pun- kins," and dear old America in the dim distance looms up like the seventy-four-gun ship of nations amidst a whole squadron of Baltimore clippers. We are a great people and bound to be greater, and to any fool who dares to squint at us, we will prove we are nutmeg graters of the greatest sort. We are still at the Maryle- bone, that is recommencing Monday, April 9th, after Easter week, and I presume we remain there until the season's closing, say latter part of June. Open your eyes, O ye two-v/eek stars in America, and see the names of Mowatt and Davenport sixteen and seventeen weeks successively and successfully before an admiring public ! Bull-headed and porter-sucking, wine-drinking and horse-racing, dog-fighting and half-and-half -destroying though they be, there are some here who (the best com- pliment I can pay them) ought to have been Yankees. You would go right off the handle to be here a month. Why, everything is a system, even from playing to buy- ing a house, or sending a letter through the post. Speaking of the eminent Mr. Macready— who I believe is acknowledged here as the head of the drama — he is announced as the Eminent Tragedian, but Mr. James Anderson is now posted as the Preeminent — in my opinion, though humble, there is a streak of agonistic imagination that is smelling of egotistical self-praise. What say you? ... I still hold to my original opinion that we have more natural talent in America, but not so much application. We are careless. I mean all con- cerned, from managers to supers. Here, rehearsals are made of importance, and when a piece is to be done, 236 the property men, musicians, and actors, must each do '^fjfr their share. It is a system here, that I should gladly see ^^M*' introduced into our theatres, and if ever I have power I will strive to bring around. We can play Shakespeare almost without a rehearsal. Not so here. The actors and all know and feel their re- sponsibility (I am speaking of the greatest theatres), and for their own credit's sake are alive to all. Stage appointments are also here more attended to, effects of scenery more studied, the artist being for a period the director for his own purpose; then the machinist, and then, with good acting, regulated by a stage-manager who knows his business, you see things done well; but remove any one of the screws and you will have a lame machine. . . . Yet in talent I say we can lick 'em. I've seen only one actress here yet that I would engage as leading woman — I mean after stars — and her name is Fanny Vining. . . . C. Cushman can lick all the tragedy ones (heavy); and our little Mowatt, all the juvenile and comedy ones. I have not seen Helen Faucit yet; I, of course, except Mrs. Nisbett. There is no old man can compare with Henry Placide, and young Wheatleigh and Murdoch can hang 'em all in light comedy. So you see we go, and yet they are so loth to allow that Yankees have talent. In Macready, Davenport found a nature totally dif- ferent from his own. The English tragedian watched his laurels in bulldog fashion; whatever part he played, whether Hamlet, Othello, Shylock, Riche- Ueu, Virginius, Wolsey, King John, Benedick, Brutus, or Lear (which latter was given on February 3, 1851), the others in the cast were forced to dim themselves. During his farewell performances at the Haymarket, lasting from October 28, 1850, to February 3, 1851, Davenport filled the place in his company made vacant by the resignation of J. W. Wallack. "I wish you would not act quite so much," roared Macready, one night ; "your extreme earnestness de- tracts from the legitimate effect." So Davenport remained Ustless, and by obeying orders, was re- warded with Macready's counter-criticism that there was not sufficient animation in his work. But de- 237 ^atenport^ sLyt spite these adverse conditions, he succeeded in at- 5n;i\irntint*fc< tracting considerable notice in the characters of ;U^ai't Uj^iunp Brutus, lago, IciUus, and Macduff. A number of other engagements followed before the Davenports returned to America. Macready, though he admired the work done by his leading man, did not record the fact in his reminiscences. A curious omission of the same character, even if not prompted by the same motive, was that of Jefferson, in his "Autobiography," when he failed to mention Daven- port, though he hastened to assure Fanny Daven- port, when his attention was called to the oversight, that his affection for her father had always been warm. Before sailing for home, the American actor came under the management of James H. Hackett, and also appeared for a short period at Drury Lane, dur- ing which time he played in Charles Reade's drama, "Gold," a plot afterward utilized by the novelist in "It's Never Too Late to Mend." Edward Stirling was acting with him. Following this, he was at the Prin- cess and Sadler's Wells. How he was regarded at the time is best seen by the estimate of Bayle Bernard : If Mr. Forrest and Mr. Hackett have been recognized as the tragedian and comedian of America, Mr. Daven- port stands between them, partaking the powers of both, if not to the extent of either. He is the tragi-comic genius, which holds the same place on the stage that the romantic play does in the drama — that mixture of humor and passion which has always been a compound most agreeable to English feelings. . . . We see his greatest distinction — an extraordinary versatility in which he has no rival, with the sole exception of James Wallack, and for which his physical endowments are quite commensurate with his mental. In August, 1854, after an absence of seven years, the Davenports sailed for America, opening in New York on September nth at the Broadway Theatre, in 238 "Othello," followed by "The Lady of Lyons," Cl^C "Black-Eyed Susan," and J. H. Wilkins's "St. aajafiriTrifirf-rt Marc," with F. Conway and Madame Ponisi in the 7J^(iVK.Hje>viip cast. The actor's reception was hearty and sincere. Recognized abroad, his own countrymen praised his versatility, which during the next ten years contin- ued without abatement. Everywhere Davenport was warmly greeted, and when he reached Boston on January i, 1855, to play Hamlet, a banner was flung across the street with the words "Welcome home, E. L. Davenport," blazoned upon it. Mrs. Davenport's first American trial was given at the Boston Museum, on March 2, 1855, where in "Love's Sacrifice" she received warm commendation for her impulsive style, her pleasing appearance, and her graceful movements. She now seconded her husband in all his roles, acting RosaUnd, Ophelia, Beatrice, and Donna Alda in Boker's "Calaynos." It was Salvini who, witnessing Davenport's Hamlet, exclaimed, "Anima, anima!" Yet one and all agreed that he lacked power, which prevented his Richard and his Othello from becoming great interpreta- tions. He travelled much during these seasons, now pre- senting George H. Miles's tragedy "De Soto, the Hero of the Mississippi" ; and then playing Brutus to the Cassius of J. W. Wallack, Jr. He was fortunate in being thrown with a wonderful selection of theatrical people who were quite as eminent as himself; but unUke many of them, Davenport was ready for trag- edy or comedy, oratory or singing, the kingly meas- ure or the sailor's hornpipe. An unfortunate misunderstanding occurred during this year of 1855. Judge Conrad had written "Jack Cade" ; the rights were claimed both by Forrest and Davenport, the former having played it, the latter being on the eve of doing so. Forrest wrote forbidding him to appear, eliciting thereby a letter from Daven- 239 "^bC port saying that he withdrew, not because the right 7r>ai rtiiinrf(< ^^^ against him, but because of professional cour- J^auCnpUVlp tesy. This incident led to an estrangement which lasted a lifetime. When the two played together in "Damon and Pythias" for the elder Wallack's bene- fit, they were not on speaking terms, even though each continued to admire the other's art. Forrest once blurted out, with that ferocious kindness of his : "They may say what they please, although Daven- port and I haven't spoken for years, he is the best actor on the American stage." On the other hand v/e find Davenport proclaiming Forrest "the most original and greatest actor Amer- ica has produced." Even as early as October lo, 1847, he was writing to Forrest in these terms : I have not words to express the gratification and pleas- ure I felt in witnessing your masterly performance. It was probably the last time I shall have an opportunity to see you for years ; but I assure you, however long it may be, the remembrance will always live in my mind as vividly as now. On September 26, 1855, Boker's "Francesca da Ri- mini" was presented for the first time, with Daven- port as Lanciotto, and Madame Ponisi as Francesca, while Charles Fisher assumed the one great original part in the piece, the jester Beppo, fairly played in later years by Louis James, and most powerfully represented by William Norris, who, in Mr. Skinner's revival of the tragedy (1902), made it, as it should be, the moving force in the drama. From 1856 to i860 Davenport passed back and forth between New York and Boston ; he supported Char- lotte Cushman, when in 1858 she gave that series of plays which she announced would be her last. In "Henry VIII" he played Cardinal Wolsey, with Mary Devlin as Anne Boleyn; the repertoire consisted further of "Macbeth," "Romeo and Juliet," "Guy 240 Mannering," "The Stranger," "The Honeymoon," 'CJ^C "The Actress of Padua," and "She Stoops to Con- ^,^^^^^^^^^^4.^ quer." J^atttipOtt^ Davenport went to New York with Miss Cushman, where she played Romeo to Miss DevUn's JuUet, and his Mercutio. Then occurred one of those per- formances — "The School for Scandal" — with a phe- nomenal cast : Lady Teazle, Miss Cushman ; Charles Surface, Davenport ; Sir Peter, H. Placide ; Sir Oliver Surface, John Gilbert; Crabtree, W. R. Blake; and Maria, Mary DevUn. Davenport now remained in Boston for several years, acting during the summer of 1858 at the Boston Theatre, with Edwin Adams, George Holland, and Mary Devlin. He played in "The Corsican Brothers," "The Cataract of the Ganges," in which he was nightly soaked by a realistic waterfall, and on De- cember 29, 1859, he and his wife took part in Brougham's revival of "King John," which proved a failure. As a manager, Davenport's regime influenced the American (formerly Burton's) ; the Howard Athe- naeum (Boston); the old Washington Theatre, and the Philadelphia Chestnut Street Theatre. He was energetic, Uberal in his taste, and sympathetic — in a way not known to Wallack — to the subordinates of his company, but, unfortunately, for all concerned, not overserious in his discipline at the theatre. Here is an example of the stage notes which, by their very jocularity, gained their desired ends. "Boys," read one, "don't smoke, and if you love your manager, turn down the gas." When, on August 29, 1859, Davenport obtained control of the Boston Athenaeum, he assembled to- gether a company of rare abihty, including Mrs. Farren, Mr. and Mrs. W. J. Florence, Matilda Heron, Julia Dean Hayne, Mr. and Mrs. J. W. Wal- lack, Jr., John Brougham, and Edwin Booth. 241 "CljC The management held together for three seasons; IDAVimilDrt^J during the first, Davenport alternated with Booth as ^tivnif^ww^ Othello and lago, while with Chanfrau he changed from Dundreary to Asa Trenchard in "Our American Cousin." During the second season (beginning Au- gust 13, i860), and the third season (beginning Sep- tember 12, 1861), despite financial embarrassments, John McCullough, Lawrence Barrett, and W. J. LeMoyne added to the strength of the casts. Fanny Davenport leaves an impression of this time. She pictured Sundays at her father's house, when Booth dined with them. The side table was always reserved for the children who had need of punish- ment, and on one such occasion, when Fanny herself was so chastised. Booth came in and saw her. Shame and mortification entered her little heart, and the great actor understood it. He took his chair from the place reserved for him at the big table, and brought it close to that of the little girl's. And thus he ate his meal, and thus entered the tiny girl's kingdom of the few — a kingdom which children al- ways reserve for those whom they love "specially." Davenport's managerial venture came to an end in November, 1861, and there immediately followed his extraordinary combination with J. W. Wallack, Jr. These two played together in New York, Philadelphia, and Boston, and on January 7, 1862, gave a powerful cast of "The School for Scandal" at the Winter Gar- den, travelling also through the West, in Shake- spearean repertoire, besides plays of a more popular nature, such as "The Iron Mask," "Still Waters Run Deep," and "The Rivals." The tours were great successes, but finally Wallack withdrew, and during the first part of the season of 1862-63 Davenport remained at the Wahiut Street Theatre, then went on a reading trip with his wife, through New England. In 1863 Wallack and Daven- port were again together, engaged in 1864 by H. C. 242 Jarrett for stock. On August 23, 1864, they were C^l^E playing "The Lady of the Lake," and in the winter of T^^U(,^rrn>vi-ti that season they were cast in "Enoch Arden," Rose >*-^^iJJvli^UVt^ E5rtinge playing Annie Lee. When, in the spring of the next year "Oliver Twist" was mounted, Daven- port was acting Bill Sikes, so one critic said, "in a way to make Dickens shiver, and then would play Fagin better than J. W. Wallack, which is saying a great deal." Many times the two actors disbanded and reorganized, but finally, in the spring of 1868, Mr. and Mrs. Davenport went to Cahfornia, by way of the Isthmus of Panama, thus definitely severing their connection with Wallack. Once West, the actor's favor was slim, the general criticism being that he lacked magnetism. But when the time arrived for him to leave, the people would not allow it without first giving him a large testimonial. Returning East, Mr. and Mrs. Davenport gave "Even- ings with the Poets" along the line, and in the fall of 1868 were back in Philadelphia at the Walnut. Here Davenport ventured to assume five parts in a sensational piece, "F, or Branded." He was ever ap- peaUng to the popular, the patriotic side of the thea- tre pubUc. Witness his "Christopher Columbus" in 1866; his "Scalp Hunters" presented in 1868. In the year 1868, he acted Ukewise in "The Pilot" and "Rob Roy." To these may be added an extravaganza, adapted by Davenport himself, which, carrying the title "The Centennial, or What We Expect in 1876," was produced in May, 1873. During 1869 he played Prosper© in "The Tempest," recalling an earlier performance of the same role in 1855. But in the meantime Davenport managed the Philadelphia Chestnut Street Theatre, beginning December 12, 1870, when Mrs. Scott-Siddons and Fanny Davenport figured prominently during the year. Here two of his other daughters, Lily Vining and May, passed under the management of their 243 'j-i«j» My first appearance on any stage was at the Howard ^*H Athenaeum, Boston, July 4, 1858, when my father and T^:a\lPt11int*f rt mother and the whole company sang "The Star-Span- ^'CtUtnfiUl.l.p glg(l Banner." I stood beside my mother and held the American flag, and I remember receiving the praise of the one dearest to me in all the world, for trying to wave the flag when the line "The star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave" was sung. I was then in my sev- enth year, and being too small to move the flag alone, my father helped me. I wore a white frock, open-work stockings, low slippers, and a red, white, and blue sash. Mrs. Barron, Lawrence Barrett, John McCullough . . . and others who now hold high positions, or sleep in peace forever, were among the company. My first appearance in a play was at the same theatre, in one of W. J. Flor- ence's burlesques. Sothern had just played an engage- ment, and I came on, dressed like Dundreary, and did the sneeze and the hop, with a line from "Our Ajnerican Cousin." From the first year he took the theatre, my father put my name in the list of the company because it pleased me and made me think that I was on the stage. I think he allowed me to appear once after the first two seasons; then I was sent to school and did not play a part until I was thirteen years old. Some records point to the fact that the flag incident occurred on the stage of Burton's Chambers Street Theatre, February 23, 1857, and that in this youthful period, besides playing in "Metamora," she took part in a burlesque written by Brougham and called "Pocahontas." In this she was a target-bearer, E. L. Davenport was John Smith, and Mrs. Davenport was the Indian Maiden. While her father was managing the Howard Athe- naeum, Fanny was cast as the Peruvian Boy in "Pi- zarro" and as King Charles II in "Faint Heart Ne'er Won Fair Lady" (October 29, i860). In this role she appeared at Niblo's Garden on February 14, 1862. Her first adult part was Mrs. Mildmay in "Still Wa- ters Run Deep," with the Wallack-Davenport com- bine. After this she played soubrette roles in Louis- ville, passing from there to the Arch Street Theatre, under the management of Mrs. John Drew, where, 250 appearing in dramas, farces, and operas, among them ^it^ ^ "Barbe Bleue," she attracted the notice of Augustin ^*)'^ Daly (1869). ^aUnpovt^ From that time her advance was rapid. We may al- most divide the artistic life of Fanny Davenport into two parts: a repertoire period and the Sardou reign. And what a repertoire it was! — an enviable list of old comedies, a large range of Shakespeare. From Colley Cibber, through Sheridan, Robertson, and Bulwer, to Bronson Howard's "Saratoga" and Daly's "Pique." It was a nervous overflow of temperament and energy — a training more marvellous than wise. The following table will serve to indicate her wonder- ful scope : PARTIAL REPERTOIRE OF MISS DAVENPORT Fanny Davenport with Daly at his New York Theatre, 24th Street, near Broadway. Lady Gay Spanker, London Assurance. Miss Richland, The Good-natured Man. Lady Mary, Maids as They Are, and Wives as They Were. Violetta, She Would and She Would Not. Letitia Hardy, The Belle's Stratagem. Mistress Ford, Merry Wives of Windsor. Polly Eccles, Caste. Rosie Farquhar, Play. Alice Hawthorne, Old Heads and Young Hearts. Mrs. Madison Noble, Surf. Efiie Remington, Saratoga. Baroness de Miroc, Article 47. Nelly Wyckoff, Diamonds. Lu Ten Eyck, Divorce. Fanny Ten Eyck, Divorce. 251 5Da\)cnport0 Fanny Davenport with Daly at his New York Theatre, 28th Street, Broadway : The Fifth Avenue. Kitty Compton, Mabel Renfrew, Fortune. Pique. Rosalind, Imogen, Rosaline, Beatrice, Lady Macbeth, Pauline, Leah, Lady Teazle, Julia, Miss Hardcastle, Talburnia, Peg Woffington, As You Like It. Cymbeline. Love's Labour's Lost. Much Ado About Nothing. Macbeth. Lady of Lyons. Leah, the Forsaken. School for Scandal. The Honeymoon. She Stoops to Conquer. The Critic. Masks and Faces. Sardou Period. (1883) Fedora, Fedora. (1888) La Tosca, Tosca. (1890) Cleopatra, Cleopatra. (1894) Gismonda, Gismonda. fA Soldier of France; changed to Joan of Arc, ■ The Saint and the Fool; changed to Joan. Other Davenport Rdles. Nancy Sikes, Oliver Twist. Camille, Camille. Gilberte, Frou Frou. Francine, Two Widows. Duchess de Septments, The American. Eugenia Cawallader, The Big Bonanza. Mary Melrose, Our Boys. Olivia, The Vicar of Wakefield. 252 FANNV DAVENPORT Were one to read all the plays presented by Miss -^Ti^ Davenport, it would be a dramatic education in itself. " Her acting was filled with vitality, emotion of the J^S^ClipOVt^ kind that could be artificial, as in Lady Teazle, and that could meet the strain of a Camille or the force of a Nancy Sikes. Though she went abroad several times, only once she went to act, when in 1882 she played "Pique," renamed "Only a Woman." Then began her Sardou period which embraced four dramas, all exacting in their external passion. Miss Davenport's presence was well adapted to such rdles; powerfully but well built, she added to her grace a marked beauty of feature. Season after sea- son of Sardou told upon her physical response. Miss Davenport's spirit grew weary of such violence; she had made her roles great through exertion, not through unconscious inspiration. Critics speak of her "plastic demeanor," of her well-simulated frenzies. She won by her extensive grasp of situation and movement, not by her quietude and repression. She was spirited, hence the success of her Lady Gay Spanker and Lady Teazle; she was graceful with charm of manner, hence her pleasing Rosalind. Miss Davenport was unprepared for her next venture. "Gismonda" had in 1894 proved successful, but on the eve of going to Boston, her scenery for it had been destroyed by fire. Tremendous strain and effort were put into the work of refitting. This was sufficient to wear upon her. She felt that a spiritual calm must be the dominant note in her next play, which proved to be her last. Frances Aymar Mathews placed Joan of Arc in a drama for her, called "A Soldier of France," but the venture failed. Already Miss Davenport's health was breaking, and after a period of uncertain strength, trying to regain some of her power at South Duxl^ury, Massachusetts, where her summer home was located, she died on September 26, 1898. She was married twice. 253 -(Th^ Miss Davenport was a great emotional artist, with a restiveness undaunted by obstacles, but blind to the VaDCUpOrt? reserve which should balance genius. Yet as the actress-daughter of an actor-father, no better repre- sentative—in a way equally as lasting— could be found. 254 X— THE HOLLANDS Eh OQ o < O CD W O ■•^ as O q o E Si 00 o * p 01 OS rat* b -a -S d W a o ■5 t>-. c o « o Et -w ^ i » el a t». ■c V U e« g lO t* 00 J3 P. - o c« C 1; D r3.a*— i:— a a ^ CO C ^ cj eS O ° .OT3 W) o u 4> a a o O «-) o •a u & o w I a 2 Cs c c3 3 ^ CS 0) 4) rt SoOQQ X— THE HOLLANDS HEN George Holland turned his steps toward America, he carried in his pocket a letter from Ju- nius Brutus Booth — one of the most characteristic communica- tions bearing upon dramatic conditions of the past. Henry Wallack, looking up recruits in London for the New York Chat- ham Theatre, had his attention drawn to Holland, who was at the Haymarket, and it was through him that Booth's interest was secured. Thus two actor- families in America were influential in establishing a third. Holland had experienced a varied career when he at last determined to go to the States; he had reached the stage in a roundabout fashion, though there was every reason for his becoming an actor at the very outset. However much one should like to believe George Holland's father a tradesman, there is small doubt that he was instead a dancing-teacher in Lon- don, who at various times was likewise seen upon the boards. John Holland, or Henry — the latter is more probable since a grandson bore the same name — had a family of seven children, the third one of whom was George, bom on December 6, 1791. The boy had just arrived at his sixth year, when a play- bill of the Royalty Theatre indicated that on the evening of November 27, 1797, some spectacle was given, during which Mr. Holland, Master Holland, and Miss Holland performed various figures in the dance. Mr. Wallack, the father of James and Henry, was also a prominent member of this cast. There are no records available to trace the ancestry of the Holland family; it has, however, been defi- nitely decided that they are in no way related to the actor of Garrick's time, or to his nephew. Charles 257 t^ljC Holland (1733-69), perpetuated in "The Rosciad," li^nTMii^rt ^^^ praised by the boy-poet Chatterton, came of a i^uilaUU^ different Une, and, with his name-sake of Elliston's day, gave rise to an English actor-family of great but separate interest. Henry Holland's son did not lack for an education. At first attending school in the Parish of Lambeth, he next went to a boarding-school in Hertfordshire, a sombre-looking place, which, however, could boast of a beautiful lawn. While there, young Holland was quicker to learn cricket than he was to master Greek, and when two years had slipped away he was re- garded as a champion athlete. He seems meanwhile to have settled upon no profes- sion ; in fact his next move was far from anything pertaining to art. He became a clerk in the silk warehouse of Messrs. Hill & Newcombe, Cheapside. During this period Mr. Smith, one of the owners of Astley's Amphitheatre, used to visit the Hollands, and through him, George saw "Les Ombres Chinois," a mechanical puppet-show which attracted children and pleased the grown people equally as well. After six months the young man transferred his energies to a firm of bankers, where he did collecting for the house. He was thus forced to be so constantly on his feet that he grew ill from overfatigue, and a three months' absence lost him his place. His new position was as a bill clerk in a broker's office, and he found himself tied to a desk, where he was again stricken with sickness, because of too little exercise. Holland met with some difficulty in procuring his next place. At last chance threw him in the way of a printer's shop where "Newman's Echo Lists" — a species of digest of all advertisements published in the daily papers — was issued. Holland was forthwith employed to manage the business end of the venture, and so well did they succeed that things would have flourished had not the proprietor soon conceived the 258 GEORGE HOLLAND From an elching by II. B. Hall idea of starting a weekly newspaper, which would ^]\Z reprint what was the cream of literature from other v;^ ,„ ^^ journals. i^OUanOjS Building upon dreams, Newman let the reality lan- guish, and failure came of it all. So Holland re- mained at home for a time, learning fencing from his brother, and acquiring the art so well that he was looked upon as an expert. For two years he turned his hand to printing, and when he was not bending over type-cases he was rowing or boxing, and meeting all the professional ring champions he could. He was famed for his rowing and thought nothing of pulling miles and miles up and down the Thames River. Printing was not to his liking ; he had his indentures cancelled, and for two years went through Ireland as a commercial traveller. This sounds better than it actually was ; a hawker's license had to be obtained, and no doubt Holland peddled his wares, putting to good use his fund of humor and genial temper. In 1816 he was living in Dublin where, on Crow Street, he had a thread-lace warehouse. From the windows of this shop Holland could see the theatre, at the end of the street, and across the way from him was a kind of iim, frequented by the actors — and by the merchant of laces himself. The hours spent at "Kearney's" were jolly ones; perhaps Holland was prevailed upon to do some imitations, or to dance ; he liked his friends and they were fond of him. When he reached London his taste for trade had abated — or, better still, had been re- placed ; persuaded by his actor-mates to cast his lot with them, he signed with Russell, of the London Olympic Theatre, who was EUiston's stage-man- ager. For six weeks he played, receiving £5 a week. "Come to my theatre in Birmingham," suggested the manager at the close of the engagement, so Holland set out on foot, in the wake of the attraction "Les Ombres Chinois." But when he reached the theatre, 259 '^l\^ Elllston had forgotten all about his verbal promise. ' Holland and a fellow-actor in the same plight were ii^OlltlllDj^ thus at sea; but soon, on May 19, 1817, EUiston of- fered them 15 shillings a week to do anything and everything that might be required of them. Now set- tled, Holland found himself under the stage-manage- ment of Mr. Brunton, one of whose daughters be- came the Countess of Derby, while the other became Mrs. Wignell, of the New York Park Theatre fame. It is strange that Holland's opening performance — despite his temperament — should be in the tragedy "Bertram," in which he acted the part of a monk, while in the after-piece, called "The Broken Sword," he assumed the role of a baron. The first play went off fairly well, but in the second guise some actor perpetrated a joke upon him, and helped "make him up" in the most clownish manner. Foolishly, Hol- land did not seek a glass to take a final look be- fore going on. But his most serious doubts were fully realized when the audience greeted him with roars of laughter. Holland beat a hasty retreat, and rushed out of the theatre and to his rooms, where he re- mained until EUiston sent for him; in the mean- while, William Winter records, supporting himself by giving lessons in fencing and boxing. Then he ex- plained the whole occurrence and was reinstated, with the high office of stage-prompter. For many a day he was called "The Baron." Vincent De Camp was a comedian playing in Bir- mingham during this time; and when he finally succeeded in procuring a theatre for himself at New- castle-on-Tyne, he asked Holland to join him. So the young actor, abandoning the idea of a stage- coach journey to his destination, which was expen- sive, set sail from London on board a brig, the elder Booth being one of the passengers. The opening night was December 28, 1818, when "The School for Scandal" was played; Holland was cast in the seem- 260 ingly unimportant part of Moses ; his associates were '^'h fr Mr. Jefferson as Sir Oliver, Tyrone Power as Joseph, and Charles Hill, who became one of Holland's ^^OllEtTtljS closest friends, as Trip. Mr. Grant and Miss Barry were the Sir Peter and Lady Teazle. In "Forty Thieves," the short piece that followed. Power acted opposite Mrs. Usher, the sister of James Wallack, and during the play her daughters, the Misses Pin- cott, performed fancy dances. Power and Holland, congenial in disposition, grew very companionable, and though they were soon to separate, they came together again in New Orleans, twenty years later. Holland next went to Manchester where he served as prompter at a small theatre, but he remained only a short time, returning to Newcastle, where he stayed for five seasons, meeting, while there, with Tom Hamblin, Tom Flynn, William Conway, and others who eventually crossed to America. There also he witnessed the performance of one Monsieur Alex- andre, a famed ventriloquist, who probably famil- iarized Holland with the tricks of the trade, which the actor introduced immediately into his "The Whims of a Comedian." An alarm of fire occurred at the Newcastle Theatre on February 19, 1823, resulting in the death of seven persons. Shortly before, Holland had accepted the post of stage-manager at the Manchester Theatre, where Mrs. Usher's husband, a famous clown, was to star "in melodrama, dancing, and comic panto- mime." Mrs. Usher was advertised to appear in "The Stranger," and much to Holland's surprise, he was announced for the pantomime as Harlequin, while Usher was to ride around the stage in a chariot drawn by his four famous cats. With much unneces- sary alarm Holland rehearsed his part, and, on the night, an unlooked-for occurrence brought him suc- cess. Hardly able to see in the mask furnished him, 261 €l)C he and his slim-waisted Columbine tripped and fell in a heap, and the audience roared. The "accident" l^OllicinDj^ had to be repeated. William Winter records another mishap. Holland was once pretending to cut off his nose with a large pair of shears, and meeting with great applause, he flourished his hand in such a way that the tip was severed. Fortunately the wound so healed that no scar remained. But the trick itself had to be introduced as a permanent thing. Many minor engagements followed this one, and then Holland found himself at the London Haymar- ket. Here he met Macready, the actor of domineering manner, who would have none but his own way. Holland was beginning to be stamped as a comedian of very broad order; yet Macready, during rehearsals for "Virginius," suddenly conceived the notion of casting him as Icilius. "He will be laughed at," sug- gested the stage - manager. "I'll risk it," replied Macready. The evening arrived and with it the expected denoue- ment, with something more besides, for when the laugh broke out, Macready with stem scowl ad- vanced to the front of the stage. The laugh died away into silence. "With your permission," said Macready, in a tone that cut and stung, "we will proceed with the play." Morrell suggests that in these days of dramatic his- tory, EngUsh actors might demand larger salaries at home, if they ventured to go to America and fill at least one engagement. This may have been Holland's idea when he began thinking of the trip, but after Wallack had spoken to Booth, after Booth perhaps had recalled the genial young man who had travelled with him to Newcastle, and furthermore after Hol- land had received a definite offer, his decision changed to a longer time than a mere visit. Booth's letter is quoted in full : 262 New York, Xmas Eve, 1826 but direct y'r letter to the Theatre Baltimore U States. My Dear Sir: Messrs. Wallack and Freeman, a few days since, shewed me your letter, with the inclosure sent last winter to you at Sheffield. It is requisite that I inform you Theatricals are not in so flourishing a condition in this Country as they were some two years ago. There are four Theatres in this City each endeavoring to ruin the others, by foul means as well as fair. The reduction of the prices of admission has proved (as I always anticipated from the first sug- gestion of such a foolish plan) nearly ruinous to the Managers. The Publick here often witness a Perform- ance in every respect equal to what is presented at the Theatres Royal D. L. and C. G. for these prices. Half a dollar to the boxes and a quarter do. to the Pit and Gallery! The Chatham Theatre of which I am the Stage-Mana- ger, at these low prices one thousand dollars. — Acting is sold too cheap to the Publick and the result will be a general theatrical bankruptcy. Tragedians are in abimdance — MACREADY— CONWAY — HAMBLIN — FORREST (now No. 1) COOPER— WALLACK — Maywood and self with divers others now invest New York. But it won't do; a diversion to the South must be made — or to Jail three-fourths of the Great men and managers must go. Now, sir, I will deal fairly with you. If you will pledge yourself to me for three years, and sacredly promise that no inducement which may be held out by the un- principled and daring speculators which abound in this country shall cause you to leave me, I will, for ten months in each year, give you thirty dollars per week, and an annual benefit which you shall divide with me. Beyond this sum I would not venture, the privilege of your name for Benefits Extra to be allowed me — and I should expect the terms on which you would be engaged to remain secret from all but ourselves. Mind this — Wether you play in my Theatres or else- where in the U States, I should look for implicit and faithful performances of your duty toward me or my colleagues! In case I should require you to travel, when in the United States, which is most probable, I will defray all the charges of conveyance for you and your luggage — your living would not be included either by land or water — Boarding (three meals a day), and 263 your Bed room, may be had in a very respectable house C^llC here, & in Baltimore at from four to six dollars per week — "Lodgings to let" are very scarce and expen- ivOllclUUjSi sive, and the customs of this country, in this respect, are essentially different to those of the EngUsh. The M.S. and music of "Paul Pry," with FAUSTUS'S music Do. and Book of the "Pilot." The M.S. and Do. of a piece played some few years back at Sadlers' Wells, called "The Gheber, or the Fire Worshippers." Two or three of LiSTON'S new pieces I should advise you to bring. And particularly the "Gheber" for me. "The Mogul Tale" here is out of print. In the Exeter Theatre last January were two actresses that I should like to engage. Miss P (not the Miss P. formerly of Drury Lane ) and Miss H. If you will in- quire after them— I will thank you. To each of these ladies a salary of fifteen dollars a week I can venture offering — 15 dollars are upward of three Guineas and Benefit annually. Now sir I have offered to you and those ladies as much as I can in honesty afford to give, their travelling ex- penses to and from Theatres in the United States (not including board) I should defray, as I told you re- specting your own — and the use of their names for benefits on Stock nights — Your Une of business would be exclusively yours. For the ladies I would not make this guaranty — The greatest actress in the World I may say is now in this city (Mrs. D ) and several very talented women — besides I would endeavor to make such arrangements for Miss P and Miss H as would not be very repugnant to their ambition. The reason Mrs. D does not go to London is my strenuous advice to her against it. — The passages from Europe I should expect repaid to me out of the salaries, by weekly deductions of three dollars each. The captain of the ship would call upon the parties or you might write to them on his visit to you ; everything on board will be furnished that is requisite for comfort, and the expenses I will settle for her previous to starting. Mind the ship you would come over in, is one expressly bar- gained for, and will bring you where I shall (if living) be ready to welcome you — Let me recommend you to Economy — see what a num- ber of our brethren are reduced to Indigence by their obstinate Vanity — I have here Mr. D who was once in London the rival of ELLISTON, and is now a better actor — approaching the age of sixty, and not a dollar 264 put by for a rainy day — too proud to accept a salary of twenty dollars per week in a regular engagement — he stars and starves. Many have been deceived and mis- led in their calculations in coming to this country — some have cut their throats, &c., from disappointment — Mrs. Romer (once of the Surrey), MRS. ALSOP, Mr. ENTWI3TLE— KiRBY the Clown — are all on the felo de se list — with others I now forget — The temptations to Drunkenness here are too common and too powerful for many weak beings who construe the approval of a boisterous circle of intoxicated fools as the climax of everything desirable in their profes- sion — [Poor Booth, preaching where he found it hard to practice !] What do they find it, when a weakened shattered fraim, with loss of memory and often reason, are the Result — [Experience was indeed to teach him that such was the case!] The hangers on — drop astern — and the poor wreck drives down the Gulf de- spised or pitied, and totally deserted. If you choose accepting my offer — get for me those ladies. SEMS can perhaps tell you where they are, and I will on the first occasion send for you and them, with the articles of agreement to be signed in London and legally ratified on your arrival in America — recollect this — the Passages in Summer, owing to the calms are longer in performing, but they are much safer, and the Newfoundland Bank is an ugly place to cross in Winter, though it is often done, yet still it is a great risk. The Crisis which left London Docks, last January with all her passengers after being out for 68 days, and being spoken to on the banks by another vessel — is not yet come or will she ever — The icebergs no doubt struck her, as they have many — and the last farewell was echoed by the waves. Write me soon and glean the information I ask for — The letter bag for United States vessels — from London is kept at the North American Coffee House near the Bank of England. Yours truly, Booth. George Holland. This letter was typical of Booth — it was proud, im- perious, final ; it was to the point in an erratic way. Its effect upon Holland can only be imagined; he must have pondered it well, and finally concluded 265 2l11C "^* *^ accept the terms. Instead he signed with the ^ New York Bowery Theatre, and during August, 1827, i^OllHllDjEl set sail for America on the "Columbia." "A Day After the Fair" was the opening bill on September 12th, and Holland was immediately re- ceived with favor; he was cast for six parts in the play : a drunken cobbler, a ballad-singer, a drummer, a French songstress, a smart servant, and a madman. He was assisted by Mrs. G. Barrett. As a comedian, Holland showed no subtlety of feel- ing, no depth of thought; he depended for effect chiefly upon the external condition, the accidental opportunity. All critics agree that he spent more time in studying how best to overturn a chair, than he did in interpreting his character. If he burned his nose with a candle fiame, people gave way to uncontrol- lable mirth. His barnyard imitations, his ventrilo- quism — these accessories made him a "fun-pro- ducer," if such a term can be used. "He has . . . no genius," wrote an early critic. "His appreciation of the part he had to play had nothing to do with the opportunity it might afford him of developing a passion or eccentricity of mind." Holland's effects were broad and solid; they were the product of trickery and they raised curiosity on the part of those who saw them. He and Sothern had much in common; they were both practical jokers; they were both humorists. But the framework of their several abilities was different. Sothern was minute, a close observer of human nature. Holland was not. Yet he could, when he wanted to, score in legitimate parts. The managers of the Bowery were fully satisfied; they made better financial arrangements with him, and sent him to Boston where he was to play at the Tremont Theatre. In that city he met his old friend, Tom Flynn, who was then stage-manager of the Federal Street Theatre. Holland's short engagement 266 was a thorough success; he returned to New York ^hf' where he found another old friend, Vincent DeCamp, wj^ ._ j^ acting stage-manager of the Bowery. Holland now i^Oll^UOjS travelled to and fro, going again to Boston and play- ing at the Federal Street Theatre; then back to the Bowery; and next to Albany, where he appeared at the Pearl Street Theatre, managed by William For- rest. James H. Caldwell soon secured him for the Camp Street Theatre in New Orleans, but before turn- ing South, Holland went to Salem, and thence to the Arch, under Wood, and to the Walnut, under Cowell, besides playing at the New York Park. On his way South he stopped at Baltimore, Rich- mond, Augusta, and Mobile, in which latter place he was entertained by N. M. Ludlow, who became a life- long friend. Besides "The Day After the Fair," Hol- land added "Sweethearts and Wives" to his pro- gramme, which opened the New Orleans Theatre on January 21, 1829, During his engagement he like- wise presented "Paul Pry," and appeared as Thomas in "The Secret," a farce in which he sang "Wedlock is a Ticklish Thing." So, too, he was Dominie Samp- son in a production of "Guy Mannering," and Greg- ory in a farce called "Turned Out." He now passed under the direction of Junius Brutus Booth at Natch- ez. On September 30, 1829, he took a benefit at the New York Bowery, and then went on tour with Mr. and Mrs. W. R. Blake, who were being managed by T. A. Cooper. During the summer of the next year he was living at Yorkville, New York, where "Hol- land's Cottage" became a well-known centre of in- terest. All this time he seems to have been winning friends, but as a manager of affairs he showed the poorest capabilities. For nearly a year, during the season of 1831-32, he had business dealings with Cooper, travelling through the South and thence going to Pittsburg. After this his association commenced with Ludlow, 267 [)^ who welcomed him into his household, and made the lA n Nri acquaintance of Holland's first wife. l^OUnUU^ Ludlow watched Holland closely. "As an actor he was very animated and rapid," wrote the man- ager, "keeping his audience in constant good humor the entire time of his being on the stage." Ludlow and Holland now went through Kentucky and Tennessee, giving entertainments, and dur- ing 1832, when cholera broke out, Holland's fund of good spirits did much to cheer the stricken com- munities. During 1834 the manager, Sol Smith, entered into partnership with Holland, and the two went to Mont- gomery, Alabama, opening the theatre there on January i6th; they had with them Jane Placide and George H. Barrett. While the association was a pleasant one, the venture was not over-prosperous, so Holland turned to New Orleans, where he became secretary to the Gaslight and Banking Company. He was not to remain long in this position, for J. H. Caldwell erected the new St. Charles Theatre, and secured Holland as his private secretary, as well as his ofl&cial treasurer. While there the actor was brought in direct intercourse with Charlotte Cush- man, J. W. Wallack, Madame Celeste, Mrs. Hunt, Mrs. Kinlock, Booth, Forrest, Ellen Tree, Vanden- hoflf, Buckstone, Mr. and Mrs. Sloman, and Tyrone Power. Holland exhibited clear-sightedness and wisdom in his advice ; yet acting on his own initiative, he was often venturesome. For instance, when Fanny Ellsler arrived in New Orleans, he made a contract with her for six nights, at one thousand dollars a night, in- cluding a benefit — this in the face of the fact that at the Park Theatre in New York she had netted Man- ager Simpson a great loss. The speculation fortu- nately ended well. While at the St. Charles, Holland played in a cast of "The School for Scandal" 268 HE ^^1 ^^^^P^^^^^^^^^^^^^R ff^ ' "^^ l^i^^^^l IS^^^t^ ^p^ t^^^l ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^HVvv: . ^^^^^H 1 ^M ^^B i •1 ^U ™ " E. M. HOLLAND with Miss Tree, and also in "Much Ado About Noth- 'CljC ing" with Mr. Caldwell. lanTTanrid The St. Charles Theatre was burned on March 13, l^UllttUUp 1842, and with it was destroyed the famous wig Garrick had given to the Jefferson of his day. Hol- land, by his earnestness, had attracted the attention of the learned Dr. Dionysius Lardner, who, on a lecturing tour through the States, now employed him as manager. This engagement once terminated, Hol- land — always a favorite in the South — turned again toward New York. Here he made his first long contract; he found his friend Mitchell, v/ho had played with him in the De Camp Company at Newcastle, managing the Olympic Theatre, and with him Holland remained from 1843 to 1849, appearing in a long Ust of plays, including as the opening attraction on September 4th, "A Day After the Fair" and "The Bill of Fare," followed later by : "Who's the Composer?" "Lend Me Five Shil- Ungs" (Gohghtly), "The Devil in Paris," "Mr. and Mrs. Caudle" fMrs. Caudle), "A Wife for an Hour," "Robinson Crusoe the Second," "Box and Cox" (1848), and "Kissing Goes by Favor." The summer of 1844 he spent at Niblo's Garden, acting in "The Child of the Regiment" and "Open Sesame." In 1848 he was "Dramatic Director" of Castle Garden. Once more he was called South, in 1849, where he joined the troupe which Thomas Placide had gathered together for the New Orleans Varieties Theatre. Holland's entire professional career was brightened by the friends he attracted. One, Dr. Northall, in a volume "Before and Behind the Curtain; or. Fifteen Years' Observations among the Theatres of New York," attested to his ready response to fun of all kinds; and Chanfrau, according to Morrell, sounded the two contrasting elements in his nature : his com- ical antics as a comedian, and his sterling worth as a man and as a father. 269 'vZl'l)C Holland soon entered upon another engagement at IP^flllilltFlCi Burton's Chambers Street Theatre; he then passed ■ under Wallack, with whose organization he remained until the season of 1867-68, turning away but once, when financial conditions prompted him to sign with Wood's minstrels (1857). Wallack's third season had begun when Holland joined him on September 12, 1855, appearing as Chubb in Brougham's "Game of Love." Skimming the years, we come to Boucicault's "The Octoroon," played at the Winter Garden Theatre on December 5, 1859, with Holland as Sunnyside in a cast includ- ing Jefferson and Stoddart. During 1866 a notable performance of "She Stoops to Conquer" was given, with Lester Wallack as young Marlow, Mary Gan- non as Miss Hardcastle, and Mrs. Vernon as Mrs. Hardcastle. Holland, now seventy-five years old, came out as Tony Lumpkin. "He was remarkable," exclaimed John Gilbert, stage-manager for the oc- casion. It was probably this very performance, or another about this time, which Rose Eytinge recalls in her "Memories" — that occasion when some old lady saw Holland waiting at the stage door for his son "Ned," and, being told that he was the Tony Lumpkin of the evening's play, flung her arms ec- statically around his neck, exclaiming, "God bless you, Tony." Keese writes : Holland brought to Wallack's a wide and varied ex- perience. He had played in every city of consequence in the Union, was well known and esteemed in the profession, had achieved popularity wherever he ap- peared, and was admitted to be out of the reach of rivalry in his peculiar line. That peculiar line soon became known at Wallack's and many an old playgoer can still remember Holland's diverting drollery. Some- times he played a part with such surprisingly comic effect that it seemed like a new creation, as in the case of Bunberry Kobb [September 30, 1863], in Lester Wal- 270 lack's "Rosedale," where in the qxiadrille he convulsed the house by his ludicrous effort to dance the figures in accordance with the little manual he carried. In 1869 the veteran actor became one of the Daly Company, playing for the last time on the evening of January 12, 1870, when he entered as a reporter in OUve Logan's "Surf." Previously, on August 16, 1869, he had acted Bodmin Podger in Robertson's "Play," supporting E. L. Davenport, George Clark, and Agnes Ethel. But now Holland was practically incapacitated, though Daly continued to reckon his name on the pay list of the week. On May 15, 1870, a large benefit — not the one planned by Wallack, Jef- ferson, Booth, Barney Williams, and others, and aban- doned because of misunderstanding, but one accom- pUshed by Daly — took place at the Fifth Avenue Theatre, where "Frou Frou" was played. Between the acts a letter was read as though Holland were speak- ing, and when the curtain fell, the respected come- dian sat, surrounded by his company and his mana- ger, whom he regarded with warmest affection. George Holland died at his home, 509 Third Avenue, New York, on December 20, 1870, and was buried at the Church of the Transfiguration, on Twenty-ninth Street, near Fifth Avenue, ever after known as "The Little Church Around the Comer," for thus it had been stigmatized by a church that had refused the actor burial. The story has been so often told that it scarce needs repeating. A committee, including E. M. Holland and Joseph Jefferson, called on the pastor of Mrs. Holland's church to make arrange- ments for the funeral, and to the consternation of all, the minister announced that because of the dead man's profession, the burial service would be denied him. Probably the Reverend Doctor would have considered more carefully if he had been able to conjure up the storm of protest and criticism his actions called forth. He was blunt and outspoken, 271 (^IjC seemingly without thought of Holland's son, who was -^ .. ^ witness to all that occurred. "Well, sir," said Jeflfer- V/OllanUp son, "where may we turn in our dilemma?" "Oh," the minister replied, "there's a little church around the comer that has no such scruples." "Come, then," exclaimed Jefferson, speaking to the committee, "come, and God bless the Little Church Around the Corner." At this day there is no necessity to discuss such big- otry which had neither the dignity of Puritanical aloofness nor showed any of the sweetness of Chris- tian charity. There are some who believe the Doctor was wronged ; that he did not raise any objections to Holland's being an actor, but called attention to the fact that his church was in festal decoration for a wedding. Yet the word was spoken, even as JelEferson recorded. Ever since then "The Little Church Around the Comer" has been the actors' church. An estimate of George Holland must consider varied elements. In private life he was loving and gentle — one who was genial as a host and kind as a husband and father. He was a great reader, and despite his humor, which was born of the slightest suggestion, his serious vein was not difficult to find. As a friend he was beloved ; he had the happy faculty of winning confidence and of holding attention. "The useful career and unblemished character of George Hol- land," wrote Jefferson, "will be recalled by all who knew him. He lived, a bright and cheerful spirit, in this world for eighty years, for time could not age his youthful heart. He was the merriest man I ever knew." It is just this word "merry" that sums up the artistic life of Holland. His was good-natured fun, grotesque, cartoonish at times, yet ever untinctured with vi- ciousness. Like Sothern, his practical jokes were accepted as a matter of course by those who knew him. They were not confined to the privacy of 272 his home, but without warning, while walking in the C^ljt street, Holland would think of some startling thing lanllatttlS and put the suggestion into instant execution. He */yi^*»»*'J?' was known to fall in a fit on the sidewalk, and, when carried into a drug store, to get up quietly and walk out, while the astonished crowd drew back in wonder and surprise. Once, so the story runs, he went goldfishing in a public fountain, and told a policeman who remonstrated that he was in his own private grounds. Of course, after he had finished his joke, Holland was always fortunate in setting matters aright. He was a famiUar figure at Fulton Market, in New York, where his passion for oysters was thor- oughly appeased. He had a way of "unexpectedly" falling into the water close at hand, to be rescued hastily, while bystanders searched his pockets for an identification card. Perhaps those pockets would be filled with tickets for his benefit; if so, the kind- hearted crowd would buy them up, Holland the while chuckling to himself, and viewing the scene with half-closed eyes. No actor was more successful with benefits than George Holland, and after his death, the testimonials given by theatres from coast to coast in aid of his family were the crowning evidences of a public's good-will. In one of his critiques, William Winter calls attention to the physical defects which marked most of the actors of distinction. There was Garrick with his sputter- ing, Kean with his raven voice, John Kemble with asthma, Macready with his stammering, Forrest who "chewed his cud," and Holland who snufl^ed. "Ah, that snuflie," exclaimed one of his sons, "none of us have it. It was so funny!" It was purely an acquired habit, one which Holland always intro- duced at moments when gravity was most to be ex- pected. At the christening of his son Joseph, when many were tearful, as many are on joyful occasions, Holland snuflfled, and put his handkerchief to his 273 ■^Ijt eyes. Every one knew that snuffle, and tears gave li^nll iii7iet way to uncontrollable mirth, Holland was an "inevita- i^Ullallu^ ijig" humorist; he could no more have helped taking advantage of the moment than Forrest could have in pouring torrents of animal vitality into all his roles. Holland was popular; the farce was popular. None of his sons possess his peculiar gift; they are all dis- tinctly comedians of serious cast. Keese says of the father : He has left no theatrical comedy portraits of finished excellence that stand out as exemplars like those of Placide and Blake. Indeed, he often set at naught ail the rules, principles, and purposes of legitimate acting. Such was the player, "the ever-renowned George, the kind-hearted George, the well-remembered and deeply regretted George!" Ludlow loved him, they all loved him, and besides, what higher gift is there than the ability to make the world forget its sorrows ! Around 1839 Holland married Catherine De Luce, daughter of Nathaniel De Luce, who was leader of the old Park Theatre Orchestra. Three of their sons became actors, and their only daughter, Kate, was stricken down just at the commencement of a career which held forth great promise. She was acting with the Daly Company when "Pique" was presented on December 14, 1875. Shortly after, she died. George, the eldest son, was bom in New York on July 6, 1846, and received his education in New Or- leans. He was on the stage early, assuming boys' characters, and then supporting Lawrence Barrett. In 1869 he played with Laura Keene at the Chestnut Street Theatre, soon after becoming chief comedian of McVicker's Theatre in Chicago, where he sup- ported Cushman, Booth, Adams, Jefferson, Adelaide NeilsoD, and others. Three years were thus spent, and then followed another three in Philadelphia. He next joined E. A. Sothem, with whom he acted for over a 274 year, going to the London Haymarket with him. '^hz Returning to America, he became a member of John vv\ « | ^^ T. Raymond's company. His abiUty as a stage-mana- l^OllanOp ger was then developed, and by 1891, he assumed control of the Girard Avenue Theatre in Philadelphia, where for five years he was successful with a stock company. Still active upon the stage, Mr. Holland has passed from year to year under the management of Frohman, Belasco, and others. His Sir Peter Teazle is thought by some to have been his best role. Edmund Milton Holland was bom in New York on September 7, 1848, and at the youthful age of fifteen, after a school education, was call-boy at Mrs. John Wood's Olympic Theatre, situated on Broadway, just above Bleecker Street, a house familiar to theatre-goers of 1858 as Laura Keene's Theatre. But before this year 1863, the youthful actor had made his appearance. Down at Wallack's Lyceum, on December 20, 1855, a playbill showed the follow- ing cast : To Parents and Guardians Waddilove George Holland Master Joseph Brower. .Master George LeRoy Holland Master Thompson Master E. M. Holland During his engagement at Mrs. Wood's, he was al- lowed occasionally to "come on" in small parts, and thus three years passed. In 1866 he was at the New York Bamum's Museum, but soon transferred to Joseph Jefferson's company which was then about to present the new play of "Rip Van Winkle"! All this time he was known as Mr. E. Milton. The year 1867 found Holland at the Thirteenth Street Wallack's Theatre, and there he remained thirteen seasons, acquiring much experience and consider- able reputation. He had inherited a great deal of his father's humor and drollery, but they were tempered and refined by his deep insight into and 275 ^h^ respect for character. He made a most satisfactory ¥1^ II >» Samuel Gerridge in "Caste," and his plays included i^O llanDjS "A New Way to Pay Old Debts," "The Road to Ruin," "School," and those countless dramas which char- acterized the Wallack regime. Here Holland came in contact with Mathews, Gilbert, Fisher, Ada Dyas, Madame Ponisi, Stoddart, Boucicault, and E. L. Davenport. In 1880 Mr. Holland was managed by A. M. Palmer, who presented him in "French Flats," and he next went abroad with McKee Rankin, where at Sadler's Wells Theatre he played the Judge in "The Dan- ites." During this period he toured Scotland and Ire- land, returning to America under the management of Henry E. Abbey, who mounted "The Mother-in- Law" and "After the Ball" at his New York Park Theatre. Mr. Holland next joined the Madison Square Theatre in 1882, and assumed the role of Pittacus Green in "Hazel Kirke," later supporting Laura Don in "A Daughter of the Nile." Then he appeared in "The Private Secretary," "The Young Mrs. Winthrop," and "Esmeralda" under Daniel Frohman. This en- gagement was succeeded by Palmer again, and Mr. Holland played in a long list of dramas : Lathrop's "Elaine" (with Alexander Salvini and Annie Russell, December 6, 1887), "Saints and Sinners," "Jim the Penman," "Captain Swift" (with Maurice Barry- more, Agnes Booth, and Marie Burroughs), "A Pair of Spectacles," and "Alabama" among the num- ber. His star part in F. Hopkinson Smith's "Colonel Carter of Cartersville" was not a great success ; other- wise, the actor's excellence met with cordial recog- nition. In 1893-94 Mr. Holland filled a long engage- ment in San Francisco, after which he supported Olga Nethersole at Palmer's Theatre, and on Febru- ary 6, 1893, played with Barrymore, Julia Arthur, 276 Q Z < _l o I u I- < a H < (S o UJ (5 I a. UJ O and Mrs. D. P. Bowers in "Lady Windermere's (Thp Fan." Then it was that the two brothers, E. M. and ^M«^ Joseph Holland came together under Richard Mans- I^Oll^tttllSl field's management, and gave an estimable produc- tion of "The Social Highwayman," to which was added "The Man with a Past." In 1896 the two went on a starring tour, presenting "A Superfluous Hus- band," and on May 6th of that year they joined the Jefferson star-cast in "The Rivals." Then, during 1897-98, E. M. Holland passed under the regime of Charles Frohman. Since that time his chief success has been with Kyrle Bellew in "Raffles" [managed by George Tyler], a character of melodrama that is kept from being sensational by the excellent refinement of the acting. Like Gillette's "Sher- lock Holmes," "Raffles" is a play which, either on Broadway or the Bowery, would attract its pubUc. So close a bond connects E. M. and Joseph Holland that it is well to consider the latter's career before attempting any classification. It is needless to say after whom Joseph Jefferson Holland was named. He was bom in New York on December 20, i860. At the age of six he appeared for a while in Mrs. Wood's production of "Cinderella," and supported J. H. Stoddart. After a thorough schooling he en- tered business at the age of fourteen, but soon abandoned trade for the stage, when, on March 25, 1878, he appeared with George Rignold in "Henry V." In 1878-79 he joined his brother George in Philadelphia, and played Antonio in "The Merchant of Venice," a part totally unfitted to his talents. Season by season saw Holland in new roles, in new support, and under new management. 1878-79. Wallack's : "Spellbound," with Rose Coghlan. 1879-80. With John T. Raymond: "Woolferfs Roost," "Col. Sellers," etc. Toured as juvenile. 277 1 880-8 1. With George Holland: "Our Gentlemen Friends." 1881-83. With Mr. and Mrs. McKee Rankin: "The Danites," "William and Susan," and "49." 1 883-84. On tour as leading man in "A Mountain Peril." 1884-85. With Clara Morris: "Miss Moulton," "Article 47," etc. In the summer with Rankin on the Pacific slope. 1885-86, San Francisco, with Rankin, during which engagement "I played everything from light comedy to tragedy, a wonderful ex- perience, under splendid direction." 1886-89. With Daly, during which time he went to California, and to London, playing in Shakespeare. 1889-90. In "Great Metropolis," and on tour in "Shen- andoah." 1890-91. A varied season: Heavy role in "Reckless Temple," supporting Maurice Barrymore; "Men and Women," and "Mr. Wilkinson's Widows," in which he had a "great part in a fine comedy." 1891-92. Toured in the comedy with Georgie Drew Barrymore; thus beginning a company to be known shortly afterward as "Charles Frohman's Comedians." 1892-93. With the "Comedians" in Gillette's "Settled Out of Court," which was used on tour, with "The Sportsman," and "The Arabian Nights." 1893-94. Toured with the "Comedians" in "The Other Man"; with Henrietta Crosman in "Mrs. Grundy, Jr.," "Wilkinson's Widows." 1894-95. With Rose Coghlan in "The Check Book"; then joined his brother George's stock com- pany at the Philadelphia Girard Avenue Theatre. 1895-96. With E. M. Holland in "The Social Highway- man." 1896-97. With E. M. Holland in above, "Two Men of Business," "A Superfluous Husband"; then in Crawford's "Dr. Claudius"; then with Annie Russell in "The Mysterious Mr. Bugle." 1897-98. Starred in "The Mysterious Mr. Bugle." 1898-99. With Miss Russell in "Catherine"; then "At the White Horse Tavern," with Amelia Bingham; "The Cuckoo," presented later. 278 iSgp-iQoo- Toured with Ethel Barrymore in "His Ex- cellency the Governor." 1 900- 1. 111. Then in Philadelphia as George Wash- ington in "Betsy Ross." 1 90 1 -2. With William Faversham in "The Royal Rival," an adaptation of "Don Caesar de Bazan"; later with Miss Bingham in "A Modern Magdalen," with which company he went on tour in 1902-3. Such activity as this afforded Mr. Holland ample op- portunity to show his versatility ; in all he did there was a quiet dignity, a careful attention to detail which lent to his work polish and distinction. On March 24, 1905, he was accorded a benefit by his professional associates, which will go on record as one of those historic responses which serve to mark actors, as a class, for their generous impulses and largeness of heart at vital moments. The Holland brothers are representative of a rich vein in dramatic history; their comedy is less broad, far gentler than the methods practised by their father; it exhibits a certain delicate manner which shows charm of personality and wholesomeness of purpose. Whatever character-roles E. M. Holland has assumed have been marked by a mastery of classical technique ; his training is of the school that is thorough — the school of Wallack. George Parsons Lathrop places him in the same rank with John Gil- bert and Wilham Warren. The greatest limitations of the Hollands have been external and not inherent. They would all have ranked high in the present had the stock system not been abandoned. The success of the son, George Holland, is one generation removed, though he is still on the stage. It is with E. M. and Joseph Holland that playgoers are most familiar. And in recognizing them we show that, in a day of constant change, we have not lost our ideas concerning the rare worth of true comedians. Joseph is more of the type best 279 l^oUant)j3 -fl^h^ suited to comedy of manners; E. M. combines that ability with an excellent power of "make-up" which i^OllclUO^ affords scope for character-parts. The sons of George Holland are men of more legitimate art. They can look back on their father's work, and laugh over his wild vagaries ; they cannot imitate them. And in this respect Holland the elder occupies a unique posi- tion. There are few to rank with him ; his very name spelled fun. 280 XI-THE POWERS 8 i a- to H o I— I o < CO O K 9 H ei o Oh o c a o — a* (8 r » j» B o CS K o ^ • N- 01 a C 2 -•. o ja ^^ y V •5 u Oi „ £ S 4> > >— ' C5J £s?' -S >>« HS * d o 10 a i) u u CS V * CO 3 S JS 0) ^S" ''^ Mr; EfflS .go I 3 O *- W a k>b « "§! = § j3 2 a, St: _ GO k U O' a a, 3 « « °2 ^ © ft p^ 43 O 9 u es <^ V 3£o O ^i- S "^ ^ o ^ S a 03 a go CO *^ ed o ^§ •^ S o S V m te _: (* K •p 4) O 111 pi' ^,3 m ^ 1- O. cS ■i & j= ^ = . a «?( o'^i:' 1 Si*""3* u,£^3§S2W|0 £ a £ g o ^j3 a ■*. 3 S 01 JS !n° „ C« o (L ^-gjl,- ,c2 5 s.^ti;a *H >p a MCl< uPh COd XI— THE POWERS HERE is every reason to include the Powers as one of the actor- families in America, for even though none of them may lay claim to having been native bom, four generations have turned to the new world, and at least two out of the four have become closely identified with this country's dramatic progress. The name Tyrone Power is familiar to playgoers; wherever it is mentioned in early annals, it represents excellent humor and intelligence ; wherever it occurs in actors' reminiscences, it is used with endearment and good feeling. Near Kilmacthomas, in the county of Waterford, a coimty laying claim to Dora Jordan and Charles Kean, WiUiam Grattan Tyrone Power was bom on November 2, 1797, during those troublous times when revolutions were making republics. The father, with small fortune and unstable health, came to America, intent on establishing a home for his wife and child, but no sooner had he arrived than he was taken ill with fever, and died. Mrs. Power, whose maiden name was Maria Maxwell, and whose father had fallen in the British ranks during our War for Inde- pendence, was now left to care for her only child. In 1798 she turned from Waterford, her jewels hidden in her bodice, and proceeded by coach to Dublin. But the road was long and dangerous, and robbers stopped her carriage, relieving her of all her valu- ables, even of her greatcoat which left her shivering and cold in the night air. She finally reached Dublin and thereupon concluded to sail for South Wales. But misfortune pursued her, for the boat was wrecked on the Welch coast, so near the shore that the passengers started to wade to land. 283 '(2LllC Mrs. Power, with her baby, stepped into a quicksand ^i\ Ni t^rd. — °°^y *® ^^ hastily rescued. Then she proceeded to 4DO luCr? Cardiff, where she remained for several years. Young Tyrone's education was not systematic; he picked up French and German ; he filled his head with novels, plays, and romances; he was quick to grasp and eager to use, and, without ever professing to any scholarship, he obtained a fund of information in a desultory fashion. He was at this period of youth, as always, a patriotic Irishman, whose feelings over- flowed in sonnets and odes of a most ornate char- acter. Some accounts record that the boy was trained as a printer, a mistake based upon the fact that in Car- diff, the Powers had a distant relative named Bird, who was a bookseller, publisher, and postmaster combined. No one thought, when Power went to his first play in Cardiff, that acting would strike his fancy; he was destined for the army, and when he startled his mother by his contrary decision, she opposed his wild ideas of becoming a player. Power did not wait to argue the point ; he packed up his belongings and ran away. He commenced at the bottom, in the first wandering troop willing to engage him. He was Voltimand and Donalbain, he was Norval and Romeo, he was any kind of a walking gentleman that any manager wished him to be. In 1815 he played Alonzo in "Pi- zarro," and for the next two seasons he had a diver- sity of roles, assuming one evening an aged Irish- man, Hendrick, in "The Heir-at-Law." During 181 6 he became a Mason, but never was active in the exercises of his order. He was thorough- ly discouraged by this time ; his beginning was less than passable and his family persisted in ignoring his existence. To add to the difficulty, he had met a charming girl. Miss Gilbert, whose family connec- 284 TYRONE POWER /f 3/ r^ RONE POWER STRICKEN jUDDENLYJNJIOLLYVVOOD led English Actor Came From Famous Stage Family :ollr«-ood, Dec. 30.-(AP) -Tyrone lieer, 62, descendant of one of Eng- \d's most famous stage famiUes d himself a dramatic actor of (lown, died unexpectedly from a jirt attack here today in his club !)ms. ;He succumbed but three weeks Iter his arrival here from New lo-k to re-enter films after forty- ,e years before the footlights. iPower, whose grandfather in Eng- d first bore his name and estab- led it among the ranks of the irs of the Victorian era, suffered leart attack. .-iree weeks ago Power came to lilywood to play the title role in he Miracle Man," and about a ek's work had been completed, ist of the actor's life had been de- jd to the legitimate stage, al- mgh he played the villain last .r in the talkie, "The Big Trail," had appeared in silent films g the pioneer days of the mo- di picture. ie rose to fame in New York jre than two decades ago, winning Jdespread attention in Shake- learean plays, and in "The Wan- jring Je-w" and "The Servant In le House." He is survived by a son, Tyrone, r., a daughter, Anne, and a former ife, mother of his children. Patia Ower, once an actress and now head dramatic school in Cincinnati. , •vho was rated one of America's pop- ular actors. Born in London, in 1869, >nd coming to this country as a outh, this second "Tyrone" had iifltartcd in business as an orange ' jrrowcr in Florida and when still in is 'teens made his first appearance i n the stage at St. Augustine in "The i rivate Secretary." Later, play- i^Qcra throughout the United States II and England knew him as an actor '*^f fine Dhvaiaue. hand.somc appear- ^ vas discriminating and well , were to be accepted as suf- approval, there could be no f complaint." Gielgud, find- same intentness on the part udiences, might have con- hat, as did Power, as Phila- s tribute to his art, g from New York, in the Df 1841, on the then new ip "President," a vessel of is, 275 feet in length. Power :or Liverpool, but was never from again, the unsolved of the missing ship long ing speculation as to the na- he disaster it had met — fire, id collision with an iceberg ggested. or over— Poland's LIMITATIONS— HUSBAND AND WIFE: If a wife paid debts of her deceased hus- band and then dies, the administrator of her estate ha« the right to make a claim against his estate If the money was loaned, but If his estate is long since settled and was In fact Insolvent, there would be noth- ing gained by doing so where there la no property attachable. The Statute of Limita- tions does not apply In matters between tjusband and wife. — (H. W. G.) CONTRACT — HEATING SYSTEM: In jrder to ascertain the rights of a finance lompany where default has been made by he owner In the purchase of a heating sys- em, the terms and provisions of the agrec- nent should be read. Modem forms give he right to not only remove the system, but ilso to enter up judgment for the balance 3ue plus fees, costs, etc.. and when judg- Is ( V wa] nes. nes wit upo nes ma! I pla pos ma De) del] C dec the not die -n ot 4 UOnBJjLUp-B UB miM. pUB 'OStS-^B uo 8U00S am ^nq 3uiii:>i?jaAa la uopoBa^sqB e.inu3 ub qrjiM. aaq -o^ 'aopB aq") jo nooi jo pjoAV ou ; o^ A:)oixuB ^uapiAo ub ji„ :^Bq| 'asriBiddB o^ u9at3 :(Ou oaaM sa -ipnB BiqcIppBiiMd ?^m >iJBuiaa -MOd auo.iAj, japia aq; Aq uoas UBO s{ :)! pio AVOH '^mdppBnqd: -^isiA s.io:)OB JO s:)uiBiduioo :>uant aii^ JO auo SI siqj, -sanp jaq^c punoj pBq aq uisBisnq^ua an% q pa^sBJ^uoo BaDuaipnB BiqdiapBiiqc X-^ipiSi-ij aq^ JO aiiods paSiaif) u 'aiaq sbm. aq uoum. 'Anuaoaa Aiui •uaxuoM. i?^;aad iCuBui sjaqtt aq:) JSuouiB puB saouaipnB ai XuBui uoas pBq oq qoiqAi ui „aa;B auiospuBq 'oSjbi b„ sba^ asnoq ^a; ;nu;saqo aq:) siiqAV '^^q:) a3u' 0% uoos SBM. aixii:) q3noq:)iB 'aiq'E -qsBj ssai aq; Aq pa^uanbaaj ..aa^B jaiuuins B„ SBM. asnoq jau: aqj pa:)OU aq 'Bouauiy uo y[Ooq ui 'puB 'q^xis aAoqB :)aaj;s :)nu;s; uo 'aj:)Baqj," :)aaJlS :)nu;saqo i -3uo aq:) puB :)nuiBM ^^^ ^^ P^J -dB an ,/JopBSSBquiv ^s]^l siII,, odiuaid.o ^ap^'Bd: J!S sb Suiaq { UI 'M-iOi Ma^vi ut aouBJBaddB :)saij 'saioj .ia:)OBJBqo qsuj ui UBipai B SB 'Xj:)unoD siq:) ui uavouji i SBM. aq '1^81 o; SS8X raoJ^ 'sai 'jjipjBO UI 'oDuiOH JO aioj aq:) ui 'i 3unoA B SB ';nqap siq apBxu aq us aiuBU a3B;s aq; pa;dopB puB ' -;BJf) UIBIllIM SB 'puBpji UI 'pjoi -BAV X;unoo UI u.ioq sbm an "S -qns s;i puB A;io aq; jo ui.iBqo uo AjaAisua^xa puB AjqBjOABj ;is aq ,,'Boiaauiv Jo suoissajduii,, 'i{ siq UI •o3b Aan;uao b AiJBau a SBM aq uaqM 'auiBU aq; jo ;saij taojj asiBJd iBtoads joj ui auiBO j siq; puB BiqdppBijqci ut joabj pu sJaMOd auojAj, aq; jo aaaq; ip •oSb sjBait iCuBui ;ou '•;s pBOJa ';saaJO^ pio aq; ;b ,,'Mar 3uuapu' aqx., 'BUiBjp s,uo;sjnqx aiduiax UI SBiq;B;Bi^ SB sbm siBXBj;jod sii ;sauij aq; jo auQ ..'tuiJSnd UBHSP ^m,„ UI qnqaziaag sb ubuisc B;;auuaH ^^]^ M^P-^'bO ^^^ I'b paJ' -dB aq uaqM saaaiuiaad aiqB;ou sit auo pas6au;iM BjqdppBiiqcj -pajj aMoiaBj\[ 'Biinf qotqM ui ,,'jaMoi^ SBM POoq;q3tUH uaq^A... ui uopui saiJBqo SB SBM saioJ aiqB;ou ;s siq JO auo •jo;ob UBajBadsaj^Bqs la aluBj JO ;unouiB jibj b uom spji aq; uo jaaaBo 3uoi siq jo asjnoD i ui puB eaioj JO X;auBA apiM b p _A/-i'^ riTT AAnTT'^ TT¥TT'-\ DTT'^ m tion stretched as far back as the Norman Conquest. ^1^0 The two instantly fell in love, and old Dr. Thomas, J^Q^^^g the lady's guardian, opposing the marriage, a second ^^ ^ runaway (January, 1817) graced the career of Ty- rone Power, the couple counting on her small fort- une, which would come to her in two years' time. They reached Dublin, where Power's patriotism spilled over in verse ; Restor'd to my country, no kinsman to meet me ; In the land of my fathers, a stranger I roam. The young husband soon secured a position, and on December loth of that year (1817) he was murdering the text of "Romeo" and playmg Jeremy Diddler in "Raising the Wind." The impression he created was poor. Though he had an active figure, a bright face, and a keen wit; though he did not rant, for his voice was criticised on the contrary as weak and husky, yet he seems to have missed any fulness of interpre- tation. In a Ust of long plays he assumed such roles as Gratiano, Sir Brilliant Fashion in Murphy's "The Way to Keep Him," and Richard m "The Innkeep- er's Daughter." Once only he attempted an Irishman, Lieutenant O'Connor, in Sheridan's "St. Patrick's Day." On January 26, 1818, he acted with Miss Kelly, Lamb's Miss Kelly, whom Elia loved, in Cibber's "She Would and She Would Not," and the humorous criticism which followed called attention to the fact that if gestures meant anything, the part was well played, but if the text was also to be considered, the words, mostly forgotten, were very ill-spoken. Despite his cold reception. Power was not to be out- done ; despite the fact also that a man named Powell was in town daring to levy money from his public in his name, the actor, visiting Ireland in 1839, spoke of this early trip with his wife as the happiest in his career. 285 *^9*' The two were at Margate during the summer of 1818, 1D0\l)CtjS Power playing Dorincourt in "The Belle's Strata- gem" and Howard in "The Will," supported by the ubiquitous Miss Sally Booth. Here he also made his first attempt at a comic Irish character, playing Looney McTwolter in "The Review." Toward the end of that year, he was with De Camp at Newcastle-on-Tyne, of whom the papers spoke as being very popular with the inhabitants "of the great carboniferous emporium." In this place during June, 18 1 9, his eldest son was born; the family were in better circumstances now, for Mrs. Power had come into her own small inheritance. But despite the happiness of his home life and the fortune of obtaining engagements — even though not large ones — whenever he desired them. Power was anxious to leave the stage ; all early illusions had been shattered for him. He first considered applying to his uncle, a man of high position in the Austrian army, for an appointment, but was deterred because of his wife and child. Far better it would have been for him, however, than what he actually did. He be- came involved in some wild speculation with a Brit- ish army ofiicer; they planned to form a settlement in the African Cape territory. Power's next move, naturally was to place his family in the care of friends, and set sail in June, 1820, for this realm of promise. As his boat left shore, he began writing verses of farewell to his native land. Then he started his diary, which, kept systematically, was imfortu- nately lost. Arrived in the wilds, adventure after adventure be- fell him. In later years, during 1848, when Power's son was serving in the Commissariat Department stationed at New Zealand, he met an officer who had known his father during 1820. Memory conjured up the actor's genial, kind disposition and his impul- siveness which led him into danger. Indeed, Power 286 had his quota of the latter; he was chased by lions in ^U(, the jungle; he jumped into the sea to save a drown- ^"'' ing man, and once on shore, laughed at the close ^OtPCtlS call he had from being snapped up by sharks. He made friends of the natives, one chief, out of pure love and affection, tattooing the actor's arm with some cabalistic device. Not content with these "mild" occurrences. Power started off by himself on a forag- ing tour, and for one year was lost to civiUzation. People thought him dead, his family in England despaired of his fate, officers spoke of him in remi- niscent mood. Then one day, scant of clothes, with long hair, and matted beard hanging from his face — much like Kipling's Man Who Was — Tyrone Power returned, his enthusiasm at ebb-tide, his investments shrivelled to the merest nothing. He did not delay ; he embarked on a slow-sailing brig for home. The word sounded sweet to his ears! Yet Africa had not taken the romantic mood from him. As the ship passed Saint Helena, an eagle soared into the air; it hap- pened to be the very day Napoleon died, but unaware of that, Power allowed his poet's fancy to conceive the incident as emblem of the great little man's fate. It is to be remarked that when he returned to Eng- land from his second trip to America, Power was laid up in his berth with injuries received in Virginia, where he had been thrown from a horse. Louis Napo- leon, on board, was his constant attendant. Much wiser, Power sought no other speculation after his African experience. John Johnstone, the Irish comedian, arriving at an age when he thought it best to retire, the field presented a fairer prospect, though as yet Power had not discovered his special aptitude for Irish roles. That there was considerable similarity in the Uves of these two players, Calcraft's minute contrast will satisfy, but it was still to be a long time before Power was to win recognition as an Irish comedian. 287 'fl^^10 EUiston next offered him an opportunity to prove his worth. "Come to Drury Lane," said the famous |&Ott)Ct')Sl actor-manager; "I will give you a trial night, and if you succeed, I'll engage you." So it was that on August 20, 182 1, Power played Tristram Fickle in "The Weather Cock"; but he failed to win his au- dience, or to secure the post. The vacancy had been caused by an actor being cast into prison for debt, and Power saw Hamblin step into the much coveted place. Minor roles were now given him in various towns, one of them — a part secured because he was an excellent rider. Power did not see any art in all this. He was dis- gusted, and was again turning over in his mind the probability of a military appointment when Miss Sally Booth loomed on the horizon with advice. For once, the early enemy of the great Junius Brutus Booth became the turning-point in a career; through her. Power was engaged for the Lyceum on July 2, 1822, and through this management he was event- ually to be turned into the channel of Irish charac- ters. When he played with Charles Kemble in "The Rivals," taking the part of Fag, his work was liked ; when he went to the 01)rmpic, his ability as stage- manager was recognized. Here he made a pronounced stride. He was soon engaged for the Adelphi, where on January 19, 1824, he appeared in "St. Ronan's Well" ; he then played Larry Hoolagan in "The Irish Valet," forced into the part much against his will. The result was that he was a complete success, his role being the first of that series of drunken charac- ters which throughout his life called forth enthu- siasm because of their variety and humanity. At Covent Garden, on October 7, 1825, Power played Rolando in "The Honeymoon," and there followed, among other parts. Trip in "The School for Scandal," Rashleigh Osbaldistone in "Rob Roy," and Roches- ter in "Charles II." In the company was Charles 288 j^otoer^ Conner, who had a monopoly of Irish parts; Power '^h^ could not ask for one role of the kind so long as he was there. But Conner could not sing, and Power, however small the compass of his voice, could. At Conner's death. Power succeeded him. "Hitherto," wrote Calcraft, "the Irishman in a comedy or farce had been a feature, and a very amusing one, thrown in to relieve, rather than a central pivot, on which the entire action revolved. The new actor in- troduced a new school, founded on his own physical energy and inexhaustible spirits." Now began the creation of roles, bom of Power's un- limited supply of wit and healthy spirits. There were Sergeant Milligan in "Returned Killed," O'Shaugh- nessy in "One Hundred Pound Note," Phelim O'Scudd in "Peter Wilkins," Sir Lucius O'Trigger in "The Rivals," and Dr. O'Toole in "The Irish Tutor," He was warmly greeted by every one, and the man- agement seemed satisfied. In one particular, how- ever, they were anxious. Power was noted for being a fast dresser ; on that account he never reached the theatre until just the moment before curtain time. "Mr. Power, Mr. Power!" the call-boy would cry frantically ; leisurely the comedian would button the last button as he was about to walk on the stage. Once he arrived too late for an entire scene ; his en- trance had to be judiciously cut, the plot proceeding without him until the act was nearly over. In June, 1829, Power turned from Covent Garden and went on the road. Critics liked his Sir Lucius and his O'Toole; in the latter he sang "The Groves of Blarney," which pleased the popular fancy. During his first Irish engagement at the Dublin Theatre Royal, under Bunn, Power had to contend with Bar- ry, an established favorite, so he found the papers looking askance, though closely, at all he did, sup- ported as he was by Madame Vestris. Besides some of 289 V^ljC the parts already mentioned, he was seen as Dennis ItNrtS^i^rci Brulgruddery in "John Bull," Murtoch Delany in 4^^0iuri3 iv<* interlude "Paddy Carey, the Boy of Clogheen." In pOUlCr? his diary we find an entry under date, January 24, 1836: Sir Walter Scott, Murray, and Macdonald dined with me at Gresham's. At ten, Frank Sheridan [grandson of Richard] joined us, and we went to Lady Clarke's, where we had two Polish princes. Closed the evening by dancing a jig with Lady Morgan, which she performed with itSnite spirit. In the face of all this prosperity, a prosperity which Power continually contrasted with the time when he could boast of a yearly stipend of ;^50 only, the actor again avowed his intention of retiring. But as if fate were against it, another invitation came from across the ocean, and again he visited America. It was during this trip, in March, 1837, that, while horseback riding, he was thrown and broke his col- lar bone. In the summer of that year he went to the Haymarket for the first time, from there going to the Adelphi, where, at a weekly and unprecedented salary of £120, he performed, on October 3, 1837, in Lover's "Rory O'More." Then he proceeded to Dublin where his public was in anything but a friendly mood, because on his last visit he had refused to respond to a vo- ciferous demand on their part for him to sing the "Groves of Blarney." Another flying trip was made to America on July 21, 1838, after some minor engagements; once over there, he remained but three months, netting about ;£3,5oo for sixty-eight performances. Almost immediately he was back, playing at the Haymarket, where he stayed most of his time from the latter part of 1838 until his fourth and final cross- ing of the ocean. He was adding many Irish pieces 295 '^^\\£ to his repertoire, realizing that the field was his own; no one, not even our own John Drew, was able to be }DO\DCt0 as faithful to the Irish nature. Said one critic : "His merry glance and joyous laugh were sovereign spe- cifics against care and melancholy." "The Irish Lion," "The Irish Attorney," "His Last Legs," which James H. Hackett played with considerable success, and "Confounded Foreigners" were among the dra- mas he presented. Power made an assertion now that he would never again go to America ; but affairs took an unexpected turn. With his wealth earned in the States, he had accumulated investments in Texas, besides reserving large sums of money in the United States banks. These details intervened, and made it absolutely essential for him to see about them. Back and forth between Dublin and the Ha5rmarket he went, and on one of these trips he was taken to look over the vessel upon which he was to meet his death. He and Calcraft, together, examined the "President," which had just come into port. On June 20, 1840, Power made his final appearance at Dublin, and on August i, 1840, with Macready and Webster, he gave his farewell at the Haymarket, Colman's "Jealous Wife," together with "The Irish Ambassador," and "The Irish Lion" comprised the biU. On November 2, 1840, we find Power in New York and writing to Calcraft in his usual vein, a free and easy style, coupled with a discerning grasp of things : The Presidential election going on full swing. An Eng- lish and an Irish election, to boot, are milk and water compared with the excitement of a Yankee one. The present dynasty will be turned out and no mistake. There was but little delay in settling his business; what seems to have detained him were social duties. Had it not been for his strong desire to return to 296 England with Lord Frederick Lennox, he might '^jrue, have been saved from the fate of all on board the /^ -^ "President." But that was not to be. The ship pulled POlDCtJJ in anchor on March ii, 1841, and that was the last seen of her or her passengers by those ashore. A ter- rific tempest ground her to pieces on Sunday, March 14th; shortly before, she had been sighted by a passing ship. Niblo, proprietor of the New York Garden, was to have sailed on the "President," but for some imaccountable reason changed his mind. People said, in a superstitious vein, that he had pre- monitions of danger. Power was announced to appear at the Haymarket on April 12, 1841 ; time passed and all were hoping against hope. Webster was positive that the ship had put back to New York ; the Power family sought J. W. Wallack, as stated before, to get his opinion, as he had crossed and recrossed the water in all sorts of weather. But the end had in truth arrived, and Power was no more ; as papers put it : "America had lost her 'President,' and England her Power." Calcraf t conjures his person up for us : Power was about five feet eight inches in height, with a light complexion, blue eyes, and brown hair; his form compact, light, and agile ; his face intelligent, animated, and expressive. Although the richest humour sparkled in his eye and fell from his lips without effort, he could embody either pathos or strong passion with adequate intensity when required. Power seemed to have had a very deeply serious side to his nature ; so it is with comedians of the first order. He was not self-conscious; on the other hand he was thoroughly unaffected. Many times called upon to "speechify," as he expressed it, he would do so with proper spirit and with equal decorum. He had profound reverence for all things sacred and holy; he was romantic, and scrupulous in his dealings with 297 €l^t men. Though he possessed a business eye and de- manded large salaries, he gave unstintingly of the |DO\UCrjS best in him. He also had a literary conscience, whether he were writing verses for himself to sing, or odes, or stories. In 1839 his diary ran : Bentley came in to-day with a work as promised; wishes me to do something for him. But what can I do, worn as I am by six days' acting in every week? I will not give the public the lees of my mother-wit, such as it is, but wait till I can devote my mind to one thing, and fairly test my strength. A man wants me to become editor of a magazine. Heaven help him! he little knows my habits. By far the most important piece of literary work done by Power was his "Impressions of America," gathered into two volumes of rare value, and pub- lished in 1836. One who reads them obtains an un- prejudiced, lucid view of the state of this country during 1833, 1834, and 1835. There are many diaries, experiences, records, preserved of these days, and they all present a personal view of things, colored by the importance of the writer and the impression he is making at the time. But with Power this was differ- ent. Though we have a continued glimpse of the man himself, his childlike enjoyment, his love of a story, his eye for the picturesque, his taste for the com- forts of life, yet he came to America determined to see the best in us, to describe us as one interested in our welfare. Those who have read the bellicose, though none the less interesting accounts of England and of the United States, written by James Feni- more Cooper, will be able to contrast this difference in attitude; one raised a whirlwind of resentment from his own countrymen ; the other, an Irishman, took back with him the deep respect of those he had left. "I seek to describe America as I saw it," so he began . . . "I seek to describe its people as I saw them, — clear- headed, energetic, frank, and hospitable. . . ." 298 Once in New York he was ready for everything; he '0rTj(> stayed at the City Hotel, and would drive up Broad- " way of an afternoon, noting the loungers in chairs ^O\U0tjS on the sidewalks. In the cool of the evening he would go to Cato's, four miles from the City Hall, driving along the North Avenue. The night of his debut he was doubtful and ner- vous, but when it was all over, when the Americans had laughed to their hearts' content over his "Irish Ambassador" and "Teddy, the Tiler," he thought of his audience — the men in abundance, and he re- gretted the absence of the ladies, whose fair forms and gleaming shoulders he was always quick to comment upon. But to his evident approval he said : "I saw no coats off, no heels up, no legs over boxes"; this he had been led to expect. And further, he was fairly well pleased with the Park Theatre, where Placide won his regard. He left for Philadelphia by way of the Camden and Amboy boat and railroad, gliding by "the village of Hoboken famous for turtle and pistol-matches," noting the beauty of the "Palisadoes," travelling eight miles an hour, until finally he reached Head's Mansion House in the Quaker city, where the "mos- chetos" nearly devoured him. Even then the noise of New York impressed travellers; even then, to enjoy nature, one had to go av/ay from Broadway. Power's minute eye for woods and stream is to be remarked in all his descriptions. Again was he struck by the utter falsity of the Eng- hsh idea that Americans were insensible to art, were undemonstrative. Those at the Walnut gave him a rousing welcome. Back in New York once more, Power set sail for Boston, in a vessel filled with a variety of folk from all parts of the country. Here he was thoroughly im- pressed by the democracy of the land, for when he went to the saloon for dinner, to his left was a very 209 ^h^ delightful woman, while to his right "sat a man ^ who, although decently dressed, was evidently a |i)0\UCV)2( working operative of the humblest class; yet was there nothing in either his manner or appearance to annoy the most refined female." Reaching Boston in a roundabout manner, by coach and boat, Power was delighted with the city's Eng- lish appearance ; and here for the first time he mar- velled at the ice, the "congealed water" put into his glass. Stopping at the Tremont Hotel, he was still more impressed by the manner Americans were maligned abroad. "As to the indecent pushing and driving," he wrote, "so amusingly described by some travellers, I never saw a symptom of it in any hotel I visited throughout the country." When he went back to New York he entered the thick of racing, and won dozens of pairs of kid gloves. Then he rushed to Baltimore, via Philadelphia, and found himself in the midst of his first railroad acci- dent, the "loco-motive" going at the rate of twenty miles an hour. He played at the Front Street Theatre, his opponents being the Kembles, who were at the Holiday. In the former the clientele were sturdy Americans, while in the latter the aristocracy of the town always gathered. "The people are with us," Power exclaimed, but a later entry indicated that a narrow selvage of spectators was to be seen around the vast area of an empty parterre. After a time we find Power on his way to Washing- ton by stage, where a Mr. Tolly managed "the leather" so excellently that he could get them out of the deepest rut by the roadway without upsetting them. This was fortunate, for, as they neared the nation's capital, they could see wrecks of aban- doned coaches scattered along the trail. Cnce in Washington, he entered the whirl of gayety. Playing at a miserable theatre, with a miserable company, yet during this February, 1834, he was 300 TYRONE POWER, 2d. greeted with favor. For the first time he mentioned ^hf Hill and Hackett, who were the rival Yankees of the ,^ stage. I^OtDCr^ With friends, he went to a ball where he became a gallant praiser of the American girl : "She excels in the dance," he commented, "and one sees that she enjoys it with all her heart. In England I have rarely felt moved to dance ; on the other hand, in France and America, so electric is evident unre- strained enjoyment, I have found it sometimes difficult to repress the inclination within becoming bounds." Visiting a new city, Power was what is commonly called a prowler, an explorer ; he scoured the environs at all times, day and night, his favorite hour being just at twilight, when he would hunt out the highest point of vantage and stand there looking down upon city or village. In the Senate he had heard Webster, one of the oratorical thunderers; evidently also, he was introduced into political life. One evening on his way to dine with the Senator from New Jersey, he lost his bearing and stopped a stranger to ask guidance. Thus, much to the delight of the latter, who recog- nized the actor as Power, Henry Clay held out his hand in cordial greeting, and the two thereupon be- came acquainted. Power literally toured the whole of New York State ; he saw everything aud everybody; he went into the wilderness, he visited the Indians, he was swayed by the magic grandeur of Niagara, he hunted out historical illusions; he studied the country people and the city people. He played and rested, he rested and played. No traveller, who was sent hither and thither professionally, ever retained the exuberance and freshness of observation so well as he. The second volume of his "Impressions" is devoted mostly to his Southern experiences, beginning at Petersburg, Virginia, and proceeding from Charles- 301 ^h^ ton to Macon, thence to Columbus, Georgia; then by wretched roads, passing Creek Indians and wild IDOlUCtJo wastes of land, upon which he noted the conditions of the negro, and of the reduced gentry of the plan- tations, to Montgomery^ Alabama. From Mont- gomery, he steamed down the Alabama River to Mobile, then turned to New Orleans, where he com- mented upon the gambling hells that ran in competi- tion with the French Theatre. What he had to undergo in the poor places called theatres is best gleaned from his picturesque ex- perience in Natchez. He wrote : Dined early, and about six walked out of town to the theatre, preparatory to making my bow. The way was without a single passenger, and not a creature lingered about the outer doors of the house : the interior I found in the possession of a single lamplighter, who was lei- surely setting about his duties; of him I inquired the hour of beginning, and learnt that it was usual to com- mence about seven or eight o'clock — a tolerable lati- tude ; time was thus afforded me for a ramble, and out I sallied, taking the direction leading from the town. I had not proceeded far when I met several men riding together; a little farther on another group, with a few ladies in company, passed leisurely by, all capitally mounted : others, I perceived, were fast approaching from the same direction. It now occurred to me that these were the persons destined to form the country quota of my auditory : upon looking back, my impres- sion was confirmed by seeing them all halting in front of the rural theatre, and fastening their horses to the neighbouring rails and trees. I now hastened back to take a survey of the scene, and a very curious one it was : a number of carriages were by this time arriving from the town, together with long lines of pedestrians; the centre of the wide road was, however, prominently occupied by the horsemen; some, dismounted, abided here the coming of their friends, or exchanged greetings with such of these as had ar- rived but were yet in their stirrups, and a finer set of men I have rarely looked upon; the general effect of their costume, too, was picturesque and border-like: they were mostly clad in a sort of tunic or frock, made 302 of white or of grass-green blanketing, the broad dark- blue selvage serving as a binding, the coat being fur- nished with collar, shoulder-pieces, and cuffs of the same colour, and having a broad belt, either of leather or of the like selvage; broad-leafed white Spanish hats of beaver were evidently the mode, together with high leather leggings, or cavalry boots and heavy spurs. The appointments of the horses were in perfect keeping with those of these cavaliers; they bore demi- pique saddles, with small massive brass or plated stir- rups, generally shabracs of bear- or deer-skin, and in many instances had saddle-cloths of scarlet or light blue, bound with broad gold or silver lace. The whole party having come up, and their horses being hitched in front of the building to their satisfac- tion, they walked leisurely into the theatre, the men occupying the pit: whilst in the boxes were several groups of pretty and well-dressed women. The de- meanour of these border gallants was as orderly as could be desired ; and their enjoyment, if one might judge from the heartiness of their laughter, exceeding. After the performance there was a general muster to horse; and away they rode, in groups of from ten to twenty, as their way might lie together. These were the planters of the neighbouring country, many of whom came nightly to visit the theatre, and this from very considerable distances ; forming such an audience as cannot be seen elsewhere in this hackney-coach age; indeed, to look on so many fine horses, with their an- tique caparisons, piquetted about the theatre, re- called the palmy days of the Globe and Bear Garden. And when Power stood upon the deck of the vessel taking him from America, what were his general im- pressions? "After much and close observation," he remarks, "I say fearlessly that, in all conventional points, good society in the States is equal to the best provincial circles in England. . . . The great mass of Americans are natural, therefore rarely vul- gar. ..." Such then is the general trend of Mr. Power's book. It is couched in a quaint and simple style, and gives an excellent view of the unprofessional man. His avoidance of theatrical subjects, save in a general 303 ^\)C way, shows his modesty. There was no condescension ITS \ rd ®° *^^ P^'^* ®^ *^^^ foreigner ; he was full of enthu- |D0 U)CtS> siasm. As a general rule, reminiscences afford ample means of reaching a composite picture of past times. The fascination of Fanny Kemble's books, of Mrs. Mowatt's recollections, of Jefferson's Autobiography, lies in the keen spirit with which all things are noted — things important and trivial. Power's advent to America did much toward spur- ring our native comedians to renewed vigor and orig- inality. Jefferson wrote : I am not aware what effect Power's success as a star had upon the English stage, — it is more conservative than our own, — but his achievements here stirred up a new ambition among the comedians of America, and with national energy, they immediately set to work developing their especial gifts; and these in many in- stances qualified them for becoming distinct features. Casting aside the old comedies, they came forward with novel and effective, if not legitimate plays. Edward Stirling speaks of Power's bashfulness, of his habit of turning his face away from the front; this might be believed if the ambitious Stirling did not further relate that one evening, the manager of a rural company — an old lady of illiterate cast — shouted: "Power, you shame-faced lout, turn your face to the people that pay to see it !" Of the four sons left by the actor, but two were known to the dramatic profession. William, the eld- est, served in China and India and is still alive, a venerable K.C.B. ; he retired with the rank of Com- missariat-General, and took up his residence at Tun- bridge Wells. Maurice, educated for the bar, went on the stage instead, and coming to America in 1848 opened on October 30th, as Sir Patrick O'Plenipo and Teddy, the Tiler, His week's engagement was not favorable, and he returned to England, dying in Bath on September 21, 1849. 304 Frederick, the next son, was a civil engineer. It was '^1)C Harold Littledale Power whose life was a varied one, l^nYnrt*^ for though he inherited much of his father's charm ^ and ability, he only exercised it upon the stage to a limited degree, battling with the prejudice a public often shows toward the son of a famous father. But when he entered into association with Edmund Yates, the journalist and novelist, he was warmly greeted. The two played in London, their perform- ance being called "Mr. Edmund Yates's Invitations to Evening Parties and the Seaside." This was a series of amusements : anecdotes and mimicry inter- spersed with song and dance. Power was vivacious; he could tell a good yam, he could sing in high fal- setto, he could be moderate in his inimitable vaga- ries. Yates liked him for his excellent humor; when they met. Power had been serving in the Post Office under Anthony Trollope, though Yates suggests that, at the time, he had been travelling with a company of actors in the provinces. Their association, however, was not of long duration, for a mercantile position was offered Power, which he accepted, while Yates, unwilling to seek another colleague, abandoned his idea. In 1866 Power married Miss Ethel Lavenu, who sup- ported Fechter when he was playing at the London Lyceum Theatre in 1863. She was daughter of the composer, and by her alliance gave to the world two actors: one, George Power, a comedian now playing in London, and the other, Tyrone Power, who, famil- iar to all American theatre-goers, is the direct de- scendant, in name and talent, of his great ancestor. The present Tyrone Power was sent to this country at the early age of seventeen; not as an actor, but apprenticed to a man in Florida, who had agreed to teach him orange culture. The boy experienced little more than hardships, for his position was that of a servant, and naturally his nature rebelled. So he, 305 '^llC with the blood of his grandfather coursing through .j^ his veins, packed up his scanty belongings and ran |D0 U>Ct*0 away to St. Augustine — a third such escapade in the Power family — where he set about joining a theat- rical company which cast him as Mr. Gibson in "The Private Secretary." But the venture failed, and Power was out of a job, penniless and alone. Since he did not accede to his father's wishes, he must shift for himself ; his family had cut him off. The boy was going through the sad trials of his grandfather, who likewise had been discarded by his people. But mo- mentary darkness did not discourage him ; he plodded ahead. A theatrical advertisement took him to Philadelphia, aided by a friend who provided him with funds. But when he reached the city he was rejected because he was too young. He next found himself in New York, alone and friendless. Now Power's experience was in a Dime Museum on the Bowery, where, as he says, "he shared honors with the bearded lady and the ossified man." Had he published abroad the fact that he was the grandson of Tyrone Power, he might have been saved much of this poverty, this degradation of his art. But no, he was determined to make his way, and his experience increased with each slight rise from obscurity. Then one day he found himself engaged to play with Madame Janauschek in "Meg Merrilies"; his role was Dominie Sampson. After this his way was assured. Ellen Terry's influ- ence placed him with the Augustin Daly Company, where he played Sir Oliver Surface in "The School for Scandal," Baptista in "The Taming of the Shrew," Holofemes in "Love's Labour's Lost," and Adam in "As You Like It." The salary was meagre, and the parts not over-rich. But he was gaining prestige, and his roles soon ranged from Caliban in "The Tem- pest," to Mr. Posket in Pinero's "The Magistrate" 306 MRS. TYRONE POWER (1896-97)- In the cast of the latter play, Edith Crane "^hf acted Charlotte, a role assumed by May Davenport ,-<^ \_ when in October, 1885, it was first given at the Bos- 4^0 lP0t0 ton Museum. Here the company included William F. Owen, John Mason, and William Seymour. His next move was to become pla)rwright, and his effort, "The Texan," was taken to London where it was played at the Old Princess Theatre. Of course it failed — that is the fate of most first attempts of this kind — but out of it came good results, for Power's acting impressed Beerbohm Tree, who gave him an engagement, when he appeared as the Ghost in "Hamlet." He was soon back again in America and at Daly's, but being denied parts of any scope, he resigned and joined Mrs. Minnie Maddem Fiske's support, ap- pearing as Von Kellar in "Magda," Brigard in "Frou Frou," and Michele in "Little Italy." His work was now well recognized, but it was his per- formance of Lord Steyne in Langdon Mitchell's "Becky Sharp" (September 12, 1899) that stamped his art; his carefully and forcibly assumed villany was such as to commend it to all critics. He also ap- peared as Jim Dixon to Mrs. Fiske's Alexandra Vic- toria Bellchamber in "A Bit of Old Chelsea." He now went to Australia, starring there with Miss Edith Crane, an actress of great beauty, whom he had married in 1898. Their plays comprised "Tess of the D'Urbervilles," and "The Only Way." Miss Crane's name has been identified with the Daly Com- pany and with E. H. Sothem, whose success in "The King's Musketeer" was greatly enhanced by her spirited work as Miladi. She has also appeared on the road as "Trilby." Heretofore mainly in secondary support, Mrs. Power, during the season of 1906-7 will become leading lady with her husband as star, in Marie Corelli's play "Barabbas." It was while he was with Sir Henry Irving and Ellen Terry, playing Bassanio in "The Merchant of 307 ^l)C Venice," that Mrs. Fiske called for Mr. Power's ser- *<^^.. ^ vices; she was about to present Winter's translation IDOlurr^ of Heyse's "Mary of Magdala" (1902), and the role of Judas needed just such an actor as he. So Mr. Power hastened across the ocean, to receive unani- mous applause for his characterization, a distinctive type of work wholly apart from anything then done by our present generation of actors. With a casual mention of Mr. Power's earnest work in the American production of Stephen Phillips's "Ulysses" (1903), of his Ingomar to the Parthenia of Miss Marlowe ; of his Arkessis in Belasco's "Adrea" (1905), which cast included Mrs. Power; of his effort in the Indian play "The Redskin" (1906) and in "The Strength of the Weak," we pass to the dominant note that stamps the actor. As Judas, his fine presence, the vigor of his action, and his clear and broad com- prehension were spoken of. Because of his physical strength and his wonderfully deep voice, he was able to depict the betrayer "in a way to thrill the imagina- tion, to arouse and sustain a shuddering sympathy, and greatly to deepen the pathos of a most pitiful experience" as suggested by Heyse. His tragedy in this drama was regarded by Winter as something to lead him toward the tragedy of a higher kind. It is just in this respect that Mr. Power must be esti- mated ; he has acted in good plays, in bad plays ; he has had parts fitted to him, and those totally un- suited. That is the fault of the System. But he has earnestness and a rich variety of effect, for, as was said of Forrest, there is much in him of animal strength and of overwhelming passion. This is different from the light comedy of his grand- father, and the genial amusement of his father. In the Tyrone Power of the present generation, the family has produced a type of a new order — one who, by physique and nature, is more suited to tragedy of a definite color than drama of varied and subtle hues. 308 BIBLIOGRAPHY BIBLIOGRAPHY I— TO-DAY AND YESTERDAY BOOKS A thorough history of the theatre in America — its inception, its evolution, its management — has yet to be written. The following references will aid in reinforcing impres- sions concerning the Drama of To-day and Yesterday. References in succeeding chapters will prove equally as serviceable. Vide also current theatrical journals. BIBLIOGRAPHIES 1882 Poole's Index. [Seq.] 1905 Reader's Guide to Periodical Literature. (Cumu- lative), vol. i, 1900-4. Ed. Anna Lorraine Guthrie. Minneapolis: H. W. Wilson Co. 1852 Chronology of the American Stage from 1752 to 1852. F. C. Wemyss. New York: Wm. Taylor & Co. 1896 English Drama: A Working Basis. Katherine Lee Bates. Wellesley College. 1896 The Magazine and the Drama. Compiled by James H. Pence. (Dunlap Soc. Pub., n.s. 2.) [An ex- cellent publication.] 1900 Bibliography of Early American Plays, 1714-1830. O. Wegelin. (Dunlap Soc. Pub., n.s. 10.) 1900 Later American Plays, 1831-1900. R. F. Roden. (Dunlap Soc. Pub., n.s. 12.) 1902 More Early American Plays. O. Wegelin. Literary Collector, 2 : 82-84. 1903 Contemporary Biography. Compiled by Agnes M. Elliott. Carnegie Library of Pittsburg. [Com- mendable bibliography.] 1904 William Dunlap and His Writings. O. Wegelin. Literary Collector, 7 : 69-76, January. [Bibliog., 70-76.] GENERAL HISTORIES History of the American Theatre. W. Dunlap. London, 1833 (2 vols.). Records of the New York Stage from 1750- 1860. Joseph N, Ireland. New York: T. H. Morrell, 1866 (2 vols.). 311 rapl)v '^^ihltrtrt History of the New York Stage, from the first performance ^.nuilUl) jQ j^^2 to iQoi. T. Allston Brown. New York: Dodd, Mead, 1903 (3 vols.). History of the American Stage, 1733-1870. T. Allston Brown. New York, 1870. A Record of the Albany Stage, including notices of prom- inent actors who have appeared in America. Henry P. Phelps. Albany: J. McDonough, 1880. Record of the Boston Stage. William Warland Clapp, Jr. Boston and Cambridge, 1853. History of the Providence Stage. 1762-1891. George O. Willard. Providence: R. I. News Co., 1891. Drama in New Orleans. John Gaisford. New Orleans, 1849. History of the London Stage and Its Famous Players. 1576- 1903. H. Barton Baker. New York: Button, 1904. [Vide section "The History of the Patent Theatres."] History of Drury Lane. Edward Stirling. London : Chatto & Windus, 1881. History of the Haymarket. Cyril Maude. New York: Button, 1904. History of Covent Garden. [Just announced as forthcom- ing.] Co vent Garden Theatre, 1 732-1897. H. S. Wynd- ham. BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARIES Dictionary of National Biography. Ed. Leslie Stephens and Sidney Lee. London: Smith, Elder & Co. (63 vols.). [The notices give concise bibliographies.] Appleton's Cyclopaedia of American Biog. Ed. James Grant Wilson. New York: Appleton, 1889. A Woman of the Century. Biography of Leading Women of America. Ed. Frances E. Willard, etc. New York : Moulton, 1893. Modern English Biography. Frederic Boase. [250 copies], 1901 (3 vols.). National Cyclopaedia of Am. Biog. New York : James T. White & Co., 1901. Lamb's Biog. Bict. U. S, Ed. John Howard Brown. Boston: Federal Bk. Co., 1903. New International Encyclopaedia. Ed. Gilman, Peck, Colby. New York: Bodd, Mead, 1904. Who's Who in America. Chicago: A. N. Marquis & Co., 1906-7. Illustrations of Actors found in The American Shakespeare. New York: Johnson, Fry & Co., 1859 [28 pts.]. The Green Room Book; or. Who's Who on the Stage. 1906. Ed. Bampton Hunt. New York: Warne. 312 BEGnmiNGs m America laibliog* The Virginia Comedians; or Old Days in the Old Dominion (novel) . John Esten Cooke. New York : Appleton, 1883. tftPy V [Describes Colonial theatre.] The Early Theatre. New York Times, December 15, 1895, p. 13- First Theatre in America : When was the Drama First In- troduced in America? An Inquiry, by Hon. Charles P. Daly, LL.D. (Dunlap Soc. Pub., n.s. i, 1896.) Washington and the Theatre. Paul Leicester Ford. (Dun- lap Soc. Pub., n.s. 8, 1899.) The Controversy Between the Puritans and the Stage (Yale thesis). E. N. S. Thompson. New York: Henry Holt, 1903. [Bibliog., pp. 267-72.] The Beginning of the Drama in America. O. Wegelin. Literary Collector, 9 : 177-81, 1905. [To prove the drama started as early as 1705, if not earlier — in 1702.] REMUnSCENCES Personal Recollections of the Drama; or. Theatrical Rem- iniscences. Henry Dickinson Stone. Albany, 1873. Retrospections of the Stage. John Bernard. Ed. W. Bayle Bernard. Boston, 1832 (2 vols.). [Ibid., Retro- spections of America, 1797-1811. Ed. Mrs. B. Bernard. Introduction and notes by L. Hutton and B. Matthews. Harper, 1887.] CRITICAL On Actors and the Art of Acting. G. H, Lewes. New York, 1878. [A standard work.] About the Theatre: Essays and Studies. William Archer. London: T. Fisher Unwin, 1886. The Drama : A Series of Assays on the Art of Acting. Henry Irving. New York: Tait, Sons & Co., 1892. Renascence of the English Drama. Henry Arthur Jones. New York: Macmillan, 1895. The Stage in America: 1897-1900. Norman Hapgood. New York: Macmillan, 1901. Reminiscences of a Dramatic Critic. Henry Austin Clapp. Boston: Houghton, Mifflin, 1902. [Excellent chapter on "The Stage of Fifty Years Ago."] MISCELLANEOUS Nights at the Play: A View of the English Stage. Dutton Cook. London: Chatto & Windus, 1883. 313 '^tl^ltOQ^ Curiosities of the American Stage. L. Hutton. New York : " Harper, 1891. r^UbV Theatrical Notes. Joseph Knight. London: Lawrence & *"*^*^t Bullen, 1893. The Theatre and Its People. Franklin Fyles. New York: Doubleday, Page & Co., 1900. MAGAZINES THEATRES Athenaeum, August 11, 1888, p. 203; August 25, 1888, p. 267. Actors and Managers under Queen Anne. Geo. A. Aitken. Athenaeum, 2: 35, July 7, 1900. Garrick and Drury Lane in Garrick's time. [Discussing period from 1747-76.] W. Roberts. Theatre, New York, September, 1902. One Hundred and Fifty Years of the American Stage. James Clarence Hyde. Theatre, New York, March, 1903. A. M. Palmer and the Union Square Theatre. A. E. Lancaster. [Vide E. A. Dithmar's "Memories of Daly's Theatres."] New England Magazine, n. s. 28:378-96, June, 1903. Passing of the Boston Museum. H. M. Ticknor. [Ex- cellent.] Theatre, New York, December, 1903. The Playhouse One Hundred and Fifty Years Ago. Aubrey Lanston. Nineteenth Century, 55:60-68. January, 1904. London Theatres, Past and Present. Algernon West. MANAGERS AND THEIR VIEWS Cosmopolitan, 35:707-13, October, 1903. Public Taste and the Winter's Drama. O. Hammerstein. Cosmopolitan, 38: 15-22, November, 1904. Tendencies of the American Stage. Daniel Frohman. Harper's Weekly, 48: 1844-47, December 3, 1904. Three Views of the Stage To-day. David Belasco, Henry Savage, and Charles Wyndham. Harper's Weekly, 48 : 1988-89, 1999, December 24, 1904. Manager's View of the Stage. Daniel Frohman. Harper's Weekly, 48: 2022-24, December Sij i904- New Phases of Theatre-Management. Charles Frohman. [Vide Sketch of Frohman. S. E. Moffet. Cosmopolitan, 33: 293-96, July, 1902.] 314 THEATRICAL SYNDICATE 0*1 llltfirt^ International, i: 99-122, January, 1900. The Theatrical t*;;***!*^ Syndicate. Norman Hapgood. [Vide his book, "The V«P9c Stage in America."] Fortnightly (English) , 79 : 1010-16, Jime, 1903. Theatrical Business in America. Charles Hawtrey. [Considers the Syndicate and gives list of theatres.] Leslie's Monthly. (By the Editors). The Great Theatrical Syndicate. I. The Dictators Rise from Obscurity. October, i904> 581-92. II. The System and Its Antagonists. November, 1904, 31-42. III. The Critics, the Play- wrights, and the System. December, 1904, 202-10. IV. To-day and To-morrow. January, 1905, 331-34- Cosmopolitan, 38: 193-98, December, 1904. One Side. David Belasco. Ibid., 38: 199-201, December, 1904. The Other Side. Marc Klaw. MISCELLANEOUS PaU Mall Magazine (English). The American Stage. WiUiam Archer. 19:303-16,473-88; 20: 23-37,1899. Arena, 25:69-77, January, 1901. A Conversation with Joseph Haworth, embodying Personal Reminiscences of Great Actors in the Classic Drama. Arena, 25: 218-20, February, 1901. Stage of Yesterday and To-day. B. O. Flower. Werner's Magazine, 26 : 488-91, 1901. A Century of American Drama. William Winter. Independent, 57: 1263-66, December i, 1904. The Old School and the New. W. H. Crane. Atlantic, 88: 119-27, 1899. The Actor of To-day. Nor- man Hapgood. International, 5:629-44, May, 1902. The Matter of the Play. Minnie Maddern Fiske. Atlantic, 97:577-85, May, 1906. Man and the Actor. Richard Mansfield. Century, 61 : 28-37, November, 1900. Our Schools for the Stage. Bronson Howard. Cosmopolitan, 35 : 359-68, August, 1903. Dramatic Schools and the Profession of Acting. David Belasco. International Quarterly, January, 1905, pp. 293-302. The Decline of Comic Opera. W. J. Henderson. Munsey, 35: 347-59, June, 1906. Famous Actors of the Nineteenth Century. WiUiam Winter. 315 rapl)p n— THE BOOTHS BOOKS 1826 Dramatic Biography and Histrionic Anecdotes. William Oxberry. London: G. Virtue. [Vide J. B. B.] 1863 Notes, Criticisms, and Correspondence upon Shake- speare's Plays and Actors. James Henry Hackett. New York : Carleton. [On the Hamlet of Junius Brutus Booth.] 1865 Trial, The, of the Alleged Assassins and Conspirators at Washington City, D. C. . . . for the Murder of President Lincoln. . . . Report of Philadelphia Daily Inquirer. Philadelphia: T. B. Peterson & Bros. 1865 Life, Crime, and Capture of John Wilkes Booth. George Alfred Townsend. New York: Dick & Fitzgerald. 1865 Conspiracy, The, [and] Trial for the Murder of the President. Ed. B. P. Poore. Boston: J. E. Tilton & Co. 1866 Passages, Incidents and Anecdotes in the Life of Junius Brutus Booth (the elder) , by his Daughter. [A fuller account than the 1882 ed. This contains a memorandum of Booth's voyage to Holland in 1814, and an appendix of old playbills.] 1868 Shakespeare's Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet, as pro- duced by Edwin Booth. (Adapted from the text of the Cambridge ed.) By H. L. Hinton. New York : Hurd & Houghton. 1868 Tragedian, The : An Essay on the Histrionic Genius of Junius Brutus Booth. Gould. New York: Hurd & Houghton. 1870 Booth's Theatre Behind the Scenes. [Paper covers.] New York: Henry L. Hinton. 1873 Edwin Booth. E. A. Duyckinck. [In his Port. Gal. Em. Men, vol. 2.] 1877 Forrest, Edwin, Life of: The American Tragedian. William Rounseville Alger. Lippincott (2 vols.). [Besides containing references to Booth, Jefferson, Boucicault, and Davenport, this work has chap- ters on Forrest's special roles.] 1878 Prompt Books of Booth. Ed. William Winter. [Printed for W. W. by Francis Hart & Co.] 316 i88o Dramatic Life as I Found It: A Record of Personal 03(llTfrtQ- Experience with an Account of the Drama in the ''^»*'*»v»y' West and South. N. M. Ludlow, St. Louis: G. f^tlTlt; I. Jones & Co. [Innumerable anecdotal refer- *^^r"c ences to the elder Booth.] 1882 Booths, The: The Elder and the Younger Booth. Asia Booth Clarke. [Am. Actor Series. Ed. Laurence Hutton.] Boston: J. R. Osgood & Co. 1886 Actors and Actresses in Great Britain and the United States, from the Days of David Garrick to the Present Time. (1750- 1886.) Ed. Brander Mat- thews and Laurence Hutton. New York : Cassell (5 vols.). [Vide under Edwin Booth, Barrett, and Clarke. In this work, Edwin Booth himself wrote two critical articles : On Junius Brutus Booth and on Edmund Kean.] 1 889 Excerpts from the many Good Words uttered in honor of Edwin Booth at the Supper given , . . March 30, 1889, by Augustin Daly and A. M. Palmer. New York : Printed for " The Players." 1889-90 Brief Chronicles. William Winter. (Dunlap Soc. Pub., No. 8 seq.) [Vide under Junius Brutus, 2d, and Mary McVicker Booth.] 1890 Hamlet from the Actor's Standpoint. Its Represen- tatives and a Comparison of their Performances. Henry Phelps. New York: E. S. Werner. 1 89 1 Actor, The, and Other Speeches. William Winter. (Dunlap Soc. Pub., No, 13.) [Vide Booth, the Tragedian.] 1893 Booth, Edwin. Laurence Hutton. (Harper's Black and White Series.) New York: Harper. [Con- cise; with many valuable illustrations.] 1893 Shadows of the Stage. William Winter. New York: Macmillan (3 series). [Critical estimates.] 1893 Salvini, Tomasso, Leaves from the Autobiography of. New York : Century. 1894 Booth, Edwin: Recollections by his Daughter, Edwina Booth Grossman, and Letters to Her and to His Friends. New York : Century. 1894 Memorial Celebration of the Sixtieth Anniversary of the Birth of Edwin Booth held . . . November 13, 1893, by "The Players." [Printed privately.] 1894 Edwin Thomas Booth, The Life and Art of. William Winter. New York: Macmillan. [Con- tains admirable estimates of Booth's r61es.J 317 l^lbllDQ* 1896 American Actors, Famous, of To-day. F. E. McKay '^ 5* and C. E. L. Wingate. New York: T. Y. Crowell tflUllV * ^°- t^'^^ Edwin Booth, Agnes Booth.] *r*ft jg(^y Theatrical Caricatures, A Group of. By W. J. Gladding. With Biographical Sketches by Louis Evans Shipman. (Dunlap Soc. Pub., n.s. 4.) [Vide Booth, Forrest, Florence.] 1897 Kean, Edmund, The Life and Adventures of, Trage- dian. 1 787-1833. Joseph Fitzgerald Molloy. London: Downey & Co. 1898 Actors of the Century: A Play-lover's Gleanings from Theatrical Armals. Frederic Whyte. Lon- don : Geo. Bell & Sons. [Ref . Booth. Vide In- dex.] 1899 Players, Some. Amy Leslie (Lillie West Brown). Chicago : Herbert Stone. [Vide Booth, etc.] 1899-1901 Players of the Present. J. B. Clapp and E. F. Edgett. (Dunlap Soc. Pub., n.s. 9, 11, 13.) [Vide Creston Clarke.] 1900 Twelve Great Actors. Edward Robins. New York: Putnam. [Vide under Junius and Edwin. A companion volume : Twelve Great Actresses.] 1901 Booth, Edwin. Charles Townsend Copeland. Boston: Small, Maynard. 1902 Plays of the Present. J. B. Clapp and E. F. Edgett. (Dunlap Soc. Pub.) [Vide Index.] 1902 Dramatic Critic, Reminiscences of a. With an Essay on Henry Irving. Henry Austin Clapp. Boston: Houghton, MiMn. [A critical chapter on Booth's acting; excellent.] 1903 Hazlitt, William, The Collected Works of. Ed. A. R. Waller and Arnold Glover, with an introduction by W. E. Henley. New York: McClure, Phillips (12 vols.). [Index, vol. 12. Vol. 8: A View of the English Stage; Dramatic Essays from The London Magazine. Ref. to Kean and Booth Controversy.] 1903 Richard Henry Stoddard: Recollections, Personal and Literary. Ed. Ripley Hitchcock, with an Introduction by Edmund Clarence Stedman. New York: A. S. Barnes & Co. [Vide Index.] 1903 Break, The, between Player and Poet. Letters from Edwin Booth to Richard Henry Stoddard. New York. 1906 Whitman, Walt, With, in Camden. March 28- July 14, 1888. Horace Traubel. Boston: Small, Maynard. [Ref. to the Booths.] 318 MAGAZINES "BlbllOtt' 1861 Harper, 22 : 702, April. [Easy Chair.] Booth's t-iltllltJ RicheUeu. *^<*V*}Z 1863 Harper, 27: 855, November. [Easy Chair.] Booth's Richelieu. 1865 Harper, 30: 673, April. [Easy Chair.] Booth and Hamlet. 1866 Nation, 2: 395-96, March 29. Acting of Mr. Ed- win Booth. O. B. Frothingham. 1866 Atlantic, 16 : 585-93, May. Edwin Booth. Ed- mund Clarence Stedman. [Considers his Hamlet.] 1866 Galaxy, 2 : 158-63, September i-December 15. The Elder Booth. Isaac C. Pray. 1869 Galaxy, 7 : 77-87, January- July. Edwin Booth. Lucia Gilbert Calhoun. 1869 Galaxy, ibid., p. 87. Edwin Booth [poem]. Anne M. Crane. 1876 All the Year Round [ed. Charles Dickens], 36 : 77-84, April 8 (n.s. vol. 16). A Gentleman of the Name of Booth. [Booth-Kean Controversy and Gould's book considered.] 1881 Harper, 63 : 61-68, June. Edwin Booth. WilUam Winter. 1881 Harper, 63: 466, August. [Easy Chair.] Booth in England. 1881 Lippincott, 28 : 497-502, November (n.s. vol. 2). John S. Clarke, Comedian. William Stuart. 1882 Saturday Review (English), 54 : 148, July 29. Booth as Bertuccio. [Full account.] 1882 Century, 2: 468, July. Full review of Mrs. Clarke's The Booths. [Also of Life of Forrest, and The Jeffersons in same series.] 1883 Nation, 36 : 358-60, April 26. Edwin Booth in Germany. T. Baker. 1884 Spirit of the Times, New York, January 12. Junius Brutus Booth. 1884 Ibid., February 9. Edwin Booth. 1890 Century, 17: 443-49, January. Pursuit and Death of John Wilkes Booth. Edward P. Doherty. [Vide also pp. 428-43, ibid., Nicolay and Hay.] 1 891 Harper, 82 : 329, February. Sargent's Portrait of Booth, at "The Players" [poem]. T. B. Aldrich. 1891 Centiiry, n.s. 21: 28, November. "The Players." Brander Matthews. [Vide also The Theatre Mag- azine, New York: Article on the same subject.) 1892 Theatre (English), n.s. 20: 284, December. Booth as Kin^ Lear. [Ed. Eglington.] 319 ^tbltOIl* ^^^■^ Critic, 22: 384-86, June 10. Edwin Booth. [Ex- ^ lUKW)^ cellent biographical article.] tflUllV ^^^^ Nation, 56: 434-36, June 15. Edwin Booth. J. R. ***rvc Lows. [Good general account.] 1893 Public Opinion, 15: 248, June 17. Quotation from papers about Booth. 1893 Harper's Weekly, June 17, pp. 577-81. Edwin Booth. Laurence Button. 1893 Forum, 15: 594-603, July. An Actor's Memory of Edwin Booth. John Malone. 1893 McClure, i : 255-67, August. Edwin Booth On and Off the Stage. Personal Recollections. Adam Badeau. 1893 Atlantic, 72 : 307-17, September. Edwin Booth. Henry Austin Clapp. 1893 Century, 25 : 132-39, 240-50 (2 pts.), November, December. Memories and Letters of Edwin Booth. William Bispham. 1893 New England Magazine, n.s. 9: 315-21, November. The Friendship of Booth and Julia Ward Howe. F. M. H. Hall. [Contains letters from Mary Devlin and Booth.] 1893 Critic, 23 : 327-29, November 18. "The Players' " Tribute to Edwin Booth. [Containing George E. Woodberry's poem, "The Players' Elegy."] 1894 Critic, o.s. 25: 210, September 29. Joseph Jefferson on Edwin Booth. 1894 Century, 48: 803, October. The Real Edwin Booth [Letters]. Edwina Booth Grossman. 1895 Dial (Ch.), 18 : 17, January i. Mrs. Grossman's Recollections. E. A. Barron. 1897 McClure, 9: 574, May. Capture, Death, and Burial of John Wilkes Booth. Ray Stannard Baker. 1897 Century, 33: 269-79, December. Edwin Booth in London. E. H. House. 1898 Harper, 96 : 196, January. A Group of Players. Laurence Hutton. [Booth, Barrett, Lester Wal- lack, Montague, Florence, McCuUough. Same article partly reproduced in Living Age, 216: 129, January 8, 1898.] 1898 Critic, 33: 61-63, July-August. The Edwin Booth Memorial Window. 1899 New England Magazine, n.s. 20 : 161-76, April. Through an Old Southern County (Belair), Cal- vin Dill Wilson. [Ref. p. 174.] 1899 Scribner, 26: 426, October. Account of J. B. Booth in Mrs. Drew's Autobiographical Sketch. 320 iQOO Century, 60 : 174, June. The Grave of Edwin ^tbltOOt' Booth. Thomas Bailey Aldrich. '^ 1901 McClure, 16: 299-304, February. Some Recollec- t^flUhV tions of John Wilkes Booth. Clara Morris. ^^ 1901 McClure, 17: 443-49, September. Lawrence Barrett. Clara Morris. 1901 Atlantic, 88 : 499, October. Booth as an Actor. Henry Austin Clapp. [Same as chapter in his Reminiscences.] 1902 Theatre Magazine, New York, February. Edwin Booth, ^fred Ayres. 1903 Century, 66: 710, September. PoorYorick. Thomas Bailey Aldrich. [Prose article concerning the skull incident.] 1904 Century, 67: 414, January. Memorable Letter of Edwin Booth's. C. F. B. Roge. 1904 Ladies' Home Journal, 21 : 10, September. Romance of Mary Devlin Booth. A. M. Fauntleroy. 1906 Critic, n.s. 48: 234, March, Edwin Booth and Ole Bull. R. Ogden Doremus. The student will find many of Edwin Booth's crit- ical remarks in H. H. Furness's Variorum Shake- speare. (Lippincott.) As collateral reading, vide 1889, Lawrence Barrett: A Professional Sketch, by Elwyn A. Barron. Chicago : Knight & Leonard Co. m— THE JEFFERSONS BOOKS 1795 [seq.] Monthly Mirror: Reflecting Men and Manners. With strictures on their epitome, the stage. [V. 1-22 (1795-1806J ; n.s. V. 1-9 (1807-11) [31 vols.]. London. Vide vol. 14, p. 65, seq.] iBio Itinerant, The, or Memoirs of an Actor. S. W. Ryley. New York: Inskeep & Bradford (2vols.). 1855 Personal Recollections of the Stage, embracing notices of actors, authors, and auditors, during a period of forty years. William B. Wood. Phila- delphia: H. C. Baird. 1875 Plays and Players. Laurence Hutton. [Vide under Jefferson.] New York : Button. 1880 Dramatic Life as I Found It. N. M. Ludlow. 321 ISlbllDfli 1881 Jeffersons, The. William Winter. (Am. Actor ^ * ^* Series. Ed. Laurence Button.) Boston: J. R. Os- r^DbV good & Co. [Contains critical estimates of Bob ***F*7 Z Acres and Rip Van Winkle, besides lists of roles.] 1886 Actors and Actresses in Great Britain and the United States. Ed. Matthews & Button. [Vide under Jefferson and Warren.] 1890 Autobiography of Joseph Jefferson. New York: Century. [A copious index makes this re- markable volume accessible for ready reference. Jefferson wrote introductions to ed. " Rip " (1895) and " Cricket on the Bearth " (1898).] 1896 American Actors, Famous, of To-day. Ed. F. E. McKay and C. E. L. Wingate. [Vide under Jefferson and Warren.] 1898 Joseph Jefferson at Bome. Nathan Baskeli Dole. Boston: Estes & Lauriat. 1898 Laurels, A Wreath of . . . Speeches. William Winter. (Dunlap Soc. Pub., n.s. vol. 7.) Joseph Jefferson: the Poet and the Actor. 1899 Players, Some. Amy Leslie. 1899 Drama, The, of Yesterday and To-day. Clement Scott. (2 vols.) New York : Macmillan. 1900 Famous Actors of the Day in America. Strang. Boston: L. C. Page & Co. [Stage Lover's Series.] 1902 Recollections of a Player. James Benry Stoddart. New York: Century. 1902 Reminiscences of a Dramatic Critic. Benry Austin Clapp. (^Vide Atlantic, December, 1888.] 1906 Joseph Jefferson: Reminiscences of a Fellow-Player. Francis Wilson. New York: Scribner's. [Full of anecdote and criticism. Chapters are: " First Acquaintance " ; " Characteristics " ; " Rip Van Winkle " ; " Bis Recreations " ; " Joseph Jefferson as a Lecturer " ; " The Author "; " ' The Rivals ' and the All-Star Performances "; " Char- acteristic Days " ; " Conclusion." A copious index. This book includes material found in Scribner's Magazine, February, 1906 seq.] MAGAZINES 1867 Atlantic, 19: 750-61, June. Among the Comedians. L. Clarke Davis. [Warren, Jefferson, Clarke, Owens.] 1869 Lippincott, 4: 167-76, August. Joseph Jefferson. James B. Ruimion. [Critical.] 322 i869 Nation, 9:247, September 23, Rip. A. G. Sedg- l3ltjltOQi 1870 Scribner, 1:216, December. "The Old Cabinet." tflUhV Jefferson's Rip. ^" ^ 1871 Harper, 42:614, March. [Easy Chair.] George William Curtis on Jefferson. 1878 Appleton, 19 : 146-51. Jefferson as Rip. 1879 Scribner, 18:321-33, July. The American on the Stage. Brander Matthews. [Jefferson and Hackett, etc.] 1879 Lippincott, 24: 57-75, July. At and After the Play. [Jefferson and Rip.] L. Clarke Davis. [Critical and personal.] 1880 Scribner, 21: 183, December. Sheridan's "Rivals." Brander Matthews. [Vide Jefferson and Mrs. Drew.] 1882 North American Review, n.s. 135: 580-602, Decem- ber. Success on the Stage. [Views of Jefferson, McCuUough, Modjeska, Barrett, Maggie Mitchell, and William Warren.] 1883 Atlantic, 52 : 695-703, November. A Good-by to Rip Van Winkle. G. A. Pierce. 1884 Spirit of the Times, New York, January 5. Jefferson. [Ibid.: January 26, Forrest; April 5, Florence.] 1884 Century, 5:476, January. Joseph Jefferson as Caleb Plummer. J. R. Towse. 1886 Harper, 73: 391-97, August. Jefferson, William Winter. 1888 Atlantic, 62: 786-96, December. William Warren. Henry Austin Clapp. [Vide ante, "Reminiscences."] 1889 Cosmopolitan, 7: 121-27, June. Jefferson at Home. W. H. Ballou. 1889 Century, n.s. 17:3 (November). Autobiog. Jef- ferson, begun. 1890 Ibid., n.s. 18:814 (October). Autobiog. Jefferson, finished. 1890 Nation, 51 : 386, November 13. Autobiog. reviewed by Brander Matthews. 1894 Critic, 25: 210, September 29. Jefferson on Edwin Booth. 1894 Dial (Ch.), 17:256, November i. Winter's Life of Jefferson reviewed. E. G. J. 1895 Munsey, 12:497-502, February. Dean of the American Stage. M. Bacheller. 1895 Dramatic Mirror, New York, 35:886, December. Birthplace of Jefferson. W. S. Hale. 323 IBlbltOQ' ^^9(> Current Literature, 19: 138, February. Origin of » Rip Van Winkle, ratihr 1896 Critic, n.s. 25: 432, June 13. Jefferson on His Art. r*ft i8p8 Critic, n.s. 29:238, April 2. Mr. Jefferson in His Best R61e. 1898 Ladies' Home Journal, 15 : 2, May. Rip Van Winkle as He Is at Home. Josephine Robb. 1898 Critic, n.s. 30 : 285-87, October. Speech at Dinner in Honor of Tolstoy. 1898 Critic, n.s. 30:373, November. Jefferson's Per- formance of *' The Rivals." 1899 Scribner, 26:422, October. Sketch of Joseph (H). [In Mrs. Drew's Autobiographical Sketch.] 1900 Harper's Weekly, 44: 442, May 12. Greatest Amer- ican Actor. L. Reamer. 1901 Critic, 39:32-36, July. Mr. Joseph Jefferson as a Painter. A. D. Albert, Jr. [Contains reproduc- tions of paintings.] 1905 Century, 69 : 466, January. Two Optimists (poem). [Jefferson and Helen Keller.] R. W. Gilder. 1905 Independent, 58:967, April 27. Estimate of Jef- ferson. [M. J. M.] 1905 Outlook, 79: 1027, April 29. Estimate of Jefferson. 1905 Harper's Weekly, May 6, p. 657. Recollections of Joseph Jefferson. Laurence Hutton. [Written in November, 1898.] 1905 Outlook, 80 : 17, May 6. As the Spectator Knew Him. 1905 Harper's Weekly, 49: 684-85, May 13. Jefferson as a Painter. Frederic Remington. 1905 Reader, 6: lo-ii, June. Joseph Jefferson. J. S. Metcalfe. 1905 Critic, 46:505, June. Jefferson's Poem on Im- mortality. 1905 World's Work, 10:6317-20, June. Joseph Jeffer- son. James Huneker. 1905 Critic, 46: 502, June. Tribute to Jefferson. William Winter. [Taken from New York Tribune.] 1905 Critic, 46:504, June. Poet to His Friend (poem). WiUiam Winter. 1905 New England Magazine, n.s. 32 : 395, June. Amer- ica's Greatest Actor. Heiu-i Lauriston. 1905 Current Literature, 38: 485, June. Jefferson on the Psychology of Rip. 1905 Review of Reviews, New York, 31:674-77, June. Career of Joseph Jefferson. Joseph B. Gilder. 1905 Century, n.s. 48 : 474, July. The Passing of Jeffer- son (poem). R. W. Gilder. 324 iQOS Lippincott, 76:574-76, November. An Inherited notbllDQ* Autograph. Isabel G. Curtis. [Showing similar- ■*-'»*' ^^i^y' ity in handwritings of Jefferson I and Jefferson t*9.DhV IV— THE SOTHERNS BOOKS 1878 Birds of a Feather. Ed. F. G. De Fontaine. New York : Carleton. [Consists of autobiographical data, and anecdotes told of E. A. S.] 1880 Our Actors and Actresses : the dramatic list; a record of the performances of living actors and actresses of the British stage. London. [E. A. S., and Lytton. Ed. Charles Eyre Pascoe.] 1886 Actors and Actresses in Great Britain and the United States. Ed. Matthews and Hutton. [E. A. S. by W. J. Florence.] 1889 Memoir of E. A. Sothern. T. Edgar Pemberton. London: Richard Bentley & Son. 1889 Memories of Fifty Years, by Lester Wallack. With an Introduction by Laurence Hutton, New York: Scribner's. 1890 Autobiography of Joseph Jefferson. Century. 1890 Our Recent Actors. Westland Marston. London: Sampson, Low. [An excellent book. Chap. 22, E. A. S. ; 24, A. Wigan; 26, Wallack, Power. Chap. 13, Charlotte Cushman.] 1 89 1 Journal of a London Playgoer. Henry Morley. Routledge & Sons. [Covering years 1851-66.] 1896 American Actors, Famous, of To-day. F. E. Mc- Kay and C. E. L. Wingate. [E. H. S. by E. M. Alfriend.] 1898 Dictionary National Biog. Ed. Sidney Lee. Lon- don: Smith, Elder. [E. A. S. by Jos. Knight. Contains further Bibliography.] 1898 Actors of the Century : A Play-lover's Gleanings from Theatrical Annals. Frederic Whyte. [Lester Wallack on Dundreary.] 1899 Drama, The, of Yesterday and To-Day. Clement Scott. 1900 Famous Actors of the Day in America. Strang. [Under E. H. S.] 1900 Famous Actresses. Ibid, series. [Under Virginia Harned.] 325 '^ihllOQj ^^°° Twelve Great Actors. Edward Robins. [Chapter t*91)llV 1902 Actors, Eminent, and Their Homes. Margherita ^^r*^^ Arlina Hamm. New York : Potts. [Under E. H. S. and Virginia Harned.) 1902 Dramatic Critic, Reminiscences of a. Henry Austin Clapp. [Under E. A. S.J 1903 Actors and Actresses, Famous, in Their Homes. Gustave Kobb^. Boston: Little, Brown. 1904 London Stage, History of the, and Its Famous Players. H. Barton Baker. New York: Dutton. [Under Index, vide Booths, Jeffersons, Sotherns, Boucicaults, Wallacks, Alfred Wigan. Vide Drury Lane, Covent Garden, Haymarket.] MAGAZINES 1878 Theatre (English), August- January, 187&-79. Rem- iniscences, by E. A. S. (August). [Vide Index.] 1879 Ibid. [Vide Index.] 1881 Ibid., 7: 161-69, March. Stories of E. A. S. 1884 Spirit of the Times, New York, March 8. E. A. S. 1888 Theatre (English), April 2. Personal Reminiscences of E. A. S. T. Edgar Pemberton. 1889 Saturday Review (English), 68 : 567-68, November 16. Review of Pemberton's book. 1889 Spectator (English), 63: 676-77, November 16. Re- views of Pemberton's book on E. A. S. 1890 Academy (English), 37: 87-88, February i. Review of Pemberton's book by Frederick Hawkins. 1892 Arena, 6: 517-31, October. Edward H. Sothem. Mildred AJdrich. 1900 Harper's Weekly, 44: 946, October 6. Sothem in Hamlet. D. Reamer. 1901 Munsey, 26: 320-22, December. Sothem as a Star and Before. 1902 Century, 64: 196-203, June. Humor of the Elder Sothern. L. D. Fuller. 1903 Independent, 55: 298, February 5. Shakespeare in New York. W. L. Phelps, Ph.D. 1903 LesUe's Monthly, 55 : 422-24. Joseph Jefferson. E. H. Sothem. 1903 Scribner, 33:506, April. Life the Lover (poem). E. H. Sothern. 326 I003 Ladies' Home Journal, 20:4-5, October. Edward '^rifT^lfftfi^ H. Sothern and His Wife. Gustave Kobbe. i^nj^wjj' 1904 Harper's Weekly, 48 : 20, January 2. Another tflDllV Year (poem). E. H. Sothern. ^^^ 1904 Harper's Weekly, 48: 200, February 6. Remember (poem). E. H. Sothern. 1904 Critic, 45: 525-31, December. Miss Marlowe and Mr. Sothern in Shakespeare. Charles E. Russell. V— THE BOUCICAULTS [In the preparation of this chapter, I am indebted to Mr. Aubrey Boucicault for kind assistance.] ARTICLES BY DION BOUCICAULT 1877 Decline of the Drama, The. North American Re- view, September, 125: 235-45. 1878 Dramatic Composition, The Art of . North American Review, January-February, 126: 40-52. 1881 Ireland, The Story of. Boston: J. R. Osgood & Co. 1884 London Audiences. Theatre (English), July-De- cember [September 1]. 1887 Press, The Decline and Fall of the. North American Review, July, 145: 32-39- 1887 Coquelin-Irving. North American Review, August, 145: 158-61. 1888 Pupils, My [Madison Square Theatre, New York School]. North American Review, October, 147: 435-40. 1888 Shakespeare's Influence on the Drama. North American Review, December, 147: 680-85. 1889 Dramatist, The Debut of a [Autobiographic]. North American Review, April, 148: 454-63. 1889 Dramatist, Early Days of a [Autobiographic]- North American Review, May, 148: 584-93. 1889 Dramatist's Diary, Leaves from a [Autobiographic]. North American Review, August, 149: 228-36. 1889 Theatres, Halls, and Audiences. North American Review, October, 149: 429-36. 1890 American Drama, The Future. Arena, November, 2: 641-52. 327 '^^ibllOtt' EDITIONS OF PLAYS [A complete bibliography of Boucicault's dramas is difficult to obtain. The following are a few of the plays that have been printed.] Colleen Bawn, The ; or, The Brides of Garryowen. A do- mestic drama. London: T. H. Lacy [i86-?]. Foul Play. [Boucicault and Reade.] London: Chatto & Windus [i8— ?]. Also New York ed. Grimaldi; or, The Life of an Actress. New York, 1856. Irish Heiress, The. A comedy in five acts. London: Andrews, 1842. Jessie Brown ; or. The Relief of Lucknow. New York : S. French, 1858. [Ed. also Lacy, London.] London Assurance. A comedy. New York: S. French [1864?]. London: J. Andrews [1841]. Philadelphia : Tur- ner & Fisher [18—?]. Long Strike, The. New York: S. French [18—?]. My Little Girl. [Adapted from W. Besant's and J. Rice's novel of that name.] London: S. French [18—?]. Octoroon, The; or. Life in Louisiana. London: T. H. Lacy [18—?]. Old Heads and Young Hearts. [J. W. Wallack's copy.] New York: W. Taylor & Co. [18—?]. London: National Acting Drama Office [18 — ?]. Pauline : a drama in five acts and seven tableaux, translated and adapted from the French. New York: S. French [18-?]. Pauvrette. New York: S. French, 1858. Phantom, The. New York, 1856. Prima Donna, The. [Comedy in two acts.] London: T. H. Lacy [18—?]. Queen of Spades. [Adapted from " La dame de pique " of A. E. Scribe.] London: T. H, Lacy [18—?]. Rapparee, The; or, The Treaty of Limerick. [Prompter's copy.] School for Scheming, The. London: National Acting Drama Office [18—?]. Shaughraun, The. London: S. French [187 — ?]. West End; or. The Irish Heiress. New York: S. French [18—?]. Boston: W. V. Spencer [18—?]. London [18—?]. Willow Copse, The. Boston: W. V. Spencer, 1855. [Mr. Aubrey Boucicault has written a critique on his father's work, printed in the " Actor's Society Bulletin," Decem- ber, 1905 ; he has likewise discussed his role in Hall Caine's " The Prodigal Son " in " The Broadway Magazine," February, 1906.] 328 ^^^'^^ T5Mi0%- 1852 Letter ... to the Dramatic Authors of France. - Translated by Charles James Mathews from him- t^^pU^ self, as a specimen of " fair imitation or adapta- tion " according to the terms of the international copyright convention. London: J. Mitchell. Ibid. Lettre . . . aux auteurs dramatiques de la France. [In connection with Boucicault's interest in the copyright laws, vide Reade and Dickens.] 1879 Mathews, Charles James, Life of. Charles Dickens. [Chiefly autobiographical.] London: Macmillan (2 vols.i. 1880 Our Actors and Actresses : the dramatic list. Charles Eyre Pascoe. [Good article on Boucicault.] 1883 Readiana: Comments on Current Events. London: Chatto & Windus. [Contains a discussion about " Foul Play " and plagiarism.] 1886 Actors and Actresses in Great Britain and the United States. Ed. Mathews & Hutton. [Mr. and Mrs. Boucicault, by B. E. Martin.] 1887 Charles Reade, Dramatist, Novelist, Journalist. Charles L. Reade and Rev. Compton Reade. [Ed. New York.] 1888 Dickens, Charles, and the Stage: A record of his connection with the drama as playwright, actor, and critic. T. Edgar Pemberton. London: Geo. Redway. 1889 Memories of Fifty Years, by Lester Wallack. New York: Scribner's. 1890 Autobiography of Joseph Jefferson. Century. 1891 Burton, W. E., Life of. W. L. Keese. (Dunlap Soc. Pub., vol. 14.) [Ref. Agnes Robertson.] 1894 Acting and Actors. ... A Book about Theatre Folk and Theatre Art. Alfred Ayres. Preface, Harri- son Grey Fiske. New York : Appleton. [On the Palmer-Boucicault School of Acting.] 1896 Le Theatre Anglaise, hier, aujourd'hui, demain. Pierre Marie Augustin Filon, Paris. [Ed. tr. by Frederic Whyte, with Introduction by Henry Arthur Jones. Dodd, Mead. References to Boucicault.] 1896 American Actors, Famous, of To-day. F. E. McKay and C. E. L. Wingate. [Boucicault, by Vance Thompson.] 1898 Actors of the Century. Frederic Whyte. 1899 Drama, The, of Yesterday and To-day. Clement Scott. 329 IBtbltOCt^ 1902 Plays of the Present. Clapp & Edgett. *' 1903 Reade, Charles, as I Knew Him. John Coleman. London: Treherne & Co. rapftr MAGAZINES 1862 Athenaeum (English), March 8, p. 337. [On Bouci- cault's " The Life of An Actress."] 1872 Once a Week, 26:430, May 11. Dion Boucicault. [Short but concise. Mentions "Foul Play"; also his (B.'s) brothers.] 1875 New York Times, July 4. [On Mrs. Boucicault.] 1875 Harper, 51 : 293, July. [Easy Chair.] [George W. Curtis.] On the Shaughraun. 1879 Spirit of the Times, New York. [Through files of year et seq. for references.] 1879 Theatre (English), August-December. [November, pp. 18688.] Boucicault on Himself. -1890 Arena, 3:47-60, December. Dion Boucicault. A. C. Wheeler. 1890 Saturday Review (English), 70:373, September 27. [Death notice of D. B. Estimate.] 1890 Academy (English), 38: 278, September 27. [Death notice, D. B.] 1890 Critic, o.s. 17: 158, September 27. [Account of D. B.] 1891 Theatre (English), n.s. 17: 41, January i. London Assurance. 1891 Theatre, ibid., n.s. 18: 27, July i. Formosa. [Ed. Capes & Eglington.] ..1896 Saturday Review (English), vol. 81, February i. " Dear Harp of My Country " [" The Colleen Bawn "], by George Bernard Shaw. 1901 Cosmopolitan, 31:575-83, October. Beauty on the Stage. Geo. H. Casamajor. [Nina Bouci- cault.] ^1903 Munsey, 28: 944-45, March. Aubrey Boucicault as an Actor: Another Case of Heredity. 1905 Cosmopolitan, 38: 273-78, January. A Memory of Dion Boucicault. Clara Morris. 1905 Theatre, New York, December. Letters from Players. Joseph Ames. [One letter, the author claims, of i860, with r to name.] 330 VI— THE HACKETTS 'BlbltOfi* BOOKS tBp]^^ 1847 Twenty-six Years of the Life of an Actor and Man- ager. Wemyss. New York : Burgess, Stringer & Co. (2 vols.) [Hackett on Forrest.] 1849 Account of the terrific and fatal riot at the New York Astor Place Opera House, on the night of May 10, 1849; with the quarrels of Forrest and Macready. New York : H. M. Ranney. [Hackett was manager at the time.] 1863 Notes, Criticisms, and Correspondence upon Shake- speare's Plays and Actors. James H. Hackett. New York: Carleton. [Contains a sketch of the actor by Charles J. Foster.] 1868 Theatrical Management in the West and South for Thirty Years, with Anecdotal Sketches by Solomon Franklin Smith. New York: Harper. [A letter from J. H. H. to Smith describing the New York Shakespeare Monument, p. 249. Ref. to Booth, p. 229. Vide Index.] 1869 Irving, Washington, The Life and Letters of. Ed. Pierre Irving. New York: Putnam & Son (4 vols.). [Vide also reference to Jefferson.] 187-? Hackett, John K., Record of, as Recorder, founded upon official documents. New York. 1886 Actors and Actresses in Great Britain and the United States. Ed. Matthews and Hutton. [J. H. H., by J. N. Ireland. Vide also J. H. H.'s remarks on Kean, vol. 3.] 1889 Brief Chronicles. William Winter. [Vide under J. H. H.] 1893 Shadows of the Stage. William Winter. (3 series.) [Hackett's Falstaff.] 1900 Famous Actors of the Day in America. Famous Actresses of the Day in America. Strang. (2 vols.) [Under James K. Hackett and Mary Mannering.] 1902 Actors, Eminent, in their Homes. Margherita Arlina Hamm. [Vide under Hackett and Mary Mannering.] MAGAZINES 1862 Spirit of the Times, New York, February. [J. H. H., by Charles J. Foster.] 331 ^ibltOQ' 1867 Harper, 35: 394, August. [Easy Chair.] George ^ William Curtis. fHackett's Falstaff.J t^BPljV ^87^ Galaxy, 14: 550, October. Souvenirs of J. H. ^^ ' Hackett. John Durand. 1879 Scribner, 18: 321-33, July. The American on the Stage. Brander Matthews. 1889 Gentleman's Magazine, n.s. 42: 425. Famous Fal- staffs. W. J. Lawrence. 1900 Munsey, 23: 845-47, September. How Mary Mau- nering Came to be Janice Meredith. 1901 Arena, 25: 220-24, February. A Representative Young American Actor [James K. Hackettj. B. O. Flower. 1902 Theatre, New York, July. Interview with Mary Mannering. W. de Wagstaffe. 1903 Munsey, 28: 935-44, March. The Clever Son of a Famous Father. [J. K. H.] 1903 Independent, 55 : 973-74, April 23. A University for the Drama. James K. Hackett. Vn— DREWS AND BARRYMORES BOOKS 1890 Autobiography of Joseph Jefferson. Century. 1891 Ada Rehan: A Study. William Winter. [113 copies only printed.] 1896 American Actors, Famous, of To-day. F. E. McKay and C. E. L. Wingate. [John Drew, by J. S. Met- calfe; Mrs. John Drew, by T. Allston Brown; Maurice Barrymore, by E. F. Coward.] 1897 Maeder, Clara Fisher, Autobiography of. Ed. Douglas Taylor. (Dunlap Soc. Pub., n.s. No. 3,) [Account of Mrs. John Drew and ref. to Sothem. Introductory: Description of New York City in 1827.] 1899 Mrs. John Drew, Autobiographical Sketch of. In- troduction by John Drew. Biographical notes by Douglas Taylor. New York : Scribner's. 1 899- 190 1 Players of the Present. Clapp and Edgett. [Vide Barrymore and Drew.] 1900 Famous Actors of the Day in America. Strang. [Vide Drew, etc.] 1900 John Drew. Edward A. Dithmar. New York: Frederick A. Stokes Co. 332 looi Mrs. Anne Jane Hartley Gilbert, Stage Reminis- Ol^fTlTfrtft' cences of. Ed. C. M. Martin. New York: Scrib- ^U-'l^^Vluy' ner's. [Ref. to John Drew.] fSUllV MAGAZINES 1887-8 Theatre (English), 3: 152. Recollections of John Drew, Sr. Benjamin G. Rogers. 1892 New York Tribune, October 4. Analysis of John Drew's Work. William Winter. 1894 Scribner, 15 : 32-47j January. The Actor. John Drew. [Description of the life.] 1899 Independent, 51 : 3018-19, November 9. Changes and Tendencies of the American Stage. John Drew. 1900 Munsey, 22 : 593, 597-98, January, Sketch of Mau- rice Barrymore. 1900 Book Buyer, 20: 41-44, February. What Are They That Do Play? John Malone. [Review of Mrs. Drew's book.] 1900 Munsey, 22: 889-94, March. Career of Ethel Bar- rjmiore. 1901 Munsey, 26 : 308-20, December. John Drew and His Plays. 1901 Theatre, New York, December. John Drew. Kate Masterson. 1902 Cosmopolitan, 32 : 305-8, January. John Barry- more's Work. H. H. Boyesen. 1902 Theatre, New York, November. Chats with Players, No. 12. Ethel Barrymore. 1903 Ladies' Home Journal, 20 : 3-4, June. GirUshness of Barrymore. Gustave Kobbe. 1903 Ladies' Home Journal, 20: 7-8, July. John Drew and His Daughter. Gustave Kobbe. 1903 McClure, 22 : 204-11, December. Where I First Met Ellen Terry and Mrs. John Drew. [A Dress- ing-Room Reception.] Clara Morris. 1904 Cosmopolitan, 37 : 237, June. Ethel Barrymore. W. Shaw. 1905 Theatre, New York, May. Maurice Barrymore — Actor, Scholar, and Wit. Henry Miller. 1905 New York Tribune, March 26. Maurice Barrymore. William Winter. [P. 3, col. 3-] 1905 Theatre, New York, June. Personal Recollections of Augustin Daly. Margaret Hall. [Ref, Drew. June, seq.] 333 rapier Tl^flllfftft' 1906 Scribner, March. Jefiferson and the All-Star Cast >4^iv^»u^- jj^ ,,j^^ Rivals." [Ref. to Mrs. Drew. Like- wise in Francis Wilson's book on Jefiferson, of which this article forms a part.] VIII— THE WALLACKS BOOKS 1828 The Pilot of the German Ocean. A melodrama. W. H. Wallack [?1. New York: Elton. 1830 Lord Byron, Letters and Journals of. Thomas Moore. New York: J. & J. Harper (2 vols.). 1835 Frances Anne Kemble Butler, Journal by. London: John Murray (2 vols.). 1839 Tortesa, the Usurer. N. P. Willis. New York: Samuel Colman. 1847 Twenty-six Years of the Life of an Actor and Man- ager. Wemyss. 1848 Lives of the Most Celebrated Actors and Actresses. Thomas Marshall. London: E. Appleyard. [Mac- ready and his father; Mr. and Mrs. Mathews; J. W. Wallack — excellent ; Boucicault's " London Assurance."] 1854 Congreve's comedy of " Love for Love," carefully revised, etc., by J. W. Wallack. New York: Appleton. 1857 Robert William EUiston, The Life and Enterprises of, (Comedian). George Raymond. [Illustrations by Cruikshank & Phiz.] London : Routledge & Co. 1859 The Veteran, or France and Algeria [drama]. J. Lester Wallack. New York: S. French. 1859 Honour Before Wealth; or, The Romance of a Poor Young Man. A drama in four acts. Adapted from the French by Pierrepont Edwards and J. Lester Wallack. [Vide Octave Feuillet.] London: T. H. Lacy; New York: S. French. 1863 Notes, Criticisms, and Correspondence upon Shake- speare's Plays and Actors. James H. Hackett. [Wallack's Hamlet.] 1865 James William Wallack (Senior), A Sketch of the Life of. Late Actor and Manager. New York: T. H. Morrell. 334 iSyi Kembles, The: An account of the Kemble family, in- Tgdjlfrtrtj eluding the lives of Mrs. Siddons and her brother, Ji^^v****)^" J. P. Kemble. London: Tinsley Bros. (2 vols.). 'f^DbV 1880 Dramatic Life as I Found It. N. M. Ludlow. [Biog. "" '^ Forrest, J. W. Wallack, St., J. H. Hackett, etc.] 1880 Ophelia and Portia, On. Lady Helen Faucit Martin. [Privately printed.] 1881 Desdemona, On. Lady H. Faucit Martin. [Private circulation.] Edinburgh: W. Blackwood & Sons. 1881 Drury Lane, In and About: and Other Papers. Dr. John Doran. London: Richard Bentley & Son (2 vols.). 1881 Drury Lane, Old: Fifty Years' Recollections of Author, Actor, and Manager. Edward Stirling. London: Chatto & Windus (2 vols.). [Ref. Wallack; a particularly long account of Dion Boucicault and his " Babil and Bijou" venture; also ref. to Booth and Sothern.] 1882 Records of a Later Life. Frances Anne Kemble Butler. New York: Henry Holt. 1886 Actors and Actresses in Great Britain and the United States. Ed. Matthews and Button. [J. W. Wallack and Lester Wallack, by William Winter.] 1888 Hamlet, A Performance of Shakespeare's Tragedy, by the Leading Players of America in Honor of Lester Wallack . . . May 21, 1888. New York: The Ogden Press. 1888 Cooper, Thomas Abthorpe, A Memoir of the Pro- fessional Life of. J. N. Ireland. (Dunlap Soc. Pub., No. 5.) [Ref. to Wallack.] 1889 Memories of Fifty Years, by Lester Wallack. With an Introduction by Laurence Hutton. New York : Scribner's. [Chap. 7 indicates Wallack's method of study.] 1889-90 Brief Chronicles. William Winter. [Vide J. W. W.; J. W. W., Jr. and Lester.] 1890 Gilbert, John, A Sketch of the Life of. William Winter. (Dunlap Soc. Pub., No. 11.) [Vide p. 34 seq. Wallack Theatre.) 1890 Autobiography of Joseph Jefferson. Century. 1S91 Actor, The, and Other Speeches. William Winter. [Vide The Comedian, p. 35. Same article con- densed in Theatre (English), 1888.] 1891 Burton, W. E., Life of. William L. Keese. [Vide anecdotes of Wallack's marriage with Miss John- stone and his association with Kean.] 335 rap^r Tfiibltflrt' ^^9^ ^° Some of Shakespeare's Female Characters. ^'(v^iui^- Lady Helen Faucit Martin. Edinburgh : W. Black- wood & Sons. 1893 Lamb, Charles, Plays and Dramatic Essays by. Ed. Rudolf Dircks. London: Walter Scott. [Vide Elliston, etc.] 1896 American Actors, Famous, of To-day. F. E. McKay and C. E. L. Wingate. [J. Lester Wallack, by Julian Magnus.] 1896 Shakespeare's Heroes on the Stage. Charles E. L, Wingate. New York: T. Y. Crowell & Co. (2 vols.) [Vide Index under all actor-families. In same series : Shakespeare's Heroines on the Stage.] 1897 Keene, Laura, The Life of: Actress, Artist, Manager, and Scholar. Together with some interesting reminiscences of her daughter. John Creahan. Philadelphia : Rodgers Pub. Co. 1897 A Group of Theatrical Caricatures. [Vide Lester Wallack and John Brougham.] 1900 Twelve Great Actors. Edward Robins. [John Lester Wallack.] 1902 Stoddart, James Henry. Recollections of a Player. 1902 Tortesa, the Usurer, Criticism of. Edgar Allan Poe. [Maturer Crit., x:27; Later Crit., xiii:38 seq. Virginia ed. Poe. Ed. James A. Harrison, 17 vols. New York: T. Y. Crowell & Co. In vol. 13 is Poe's essay on " The American Drama," pp. 33-73.] 1904 Elia, The Essays of. Lamb. Ed. E. V. Lucas. Putnam. [Vide Elliston, etc.] 1904 Byron's Works. Ed. Rowland E. Prothero. New York: Scribner's. [Letters and Journals (6 vols.), vol. 3, pp. 190-244. Drury Lane. Vide Index, vol. 6 for references.] 1904 London Stage, The History of the. H. Barton Baker. [Vide Index.] 1905 Eytinge, Rose, The Memories of: Being Recollec- tions and Observations of Men, Women, and Events, during Half a Century. New York: Frederick A. Stokes Co. MAGAZINES 1862 Harper, 26: 71, December. Random Recollections of a Life. J. H. Siddons. [Sections on George III, Mrs. Siddons, John Kemble, Edmund Kean, Sheridan, Byron, Fanny Kemble, Dickens, Hood.] 336 i868 Galaxy, 6:485, October. John Lester Wallack, Ij^fhltfltt' William Stuart. A^ivtivjj' 1876 Temple Bar, vol. 48, November. Elliston. [Vide r^llllt^ also Poole under Coburn's Magazine.] ^"•rVc 1879 Spirit of the Times, New York, December 20, p. 498. Wallack's Ride (poem). 1888 Theatre (English), vol. 5, June i. Actor and Critic. [William Winter on Wallack.] 1888 Critic, 13: 121, September 15. Lester Wallack. J. Ranken Towse. 1888 Academy lEnglish), 34:i95, September 22. In Memoriam [Lester Wallack]. Robert Buchanan. 1888 North American Review, 147:453-59, October. Lester Wallack. W. J. Florence. 1899 Munsey, vol. 21, August. Picture of Lester Wallack, Jr- 1900 Blackwood (English), 168: 906-14. Helena Faucit. 1901 Harper's Weekly, 45: 464-65, May 4. Wallack's Theatre. L. Reamer. IX— THE DAVENPORTS BOOKS [In the preparation of this chapter, I am indebted to Mr. Edgar L. Davenport for kind assistance.] 1847 Twenty-six Years of the Life of an Actor and Man- ager. Wemyss. [Vide Davenport, Wallack, Hack- ett, Jefferson, Booth, etc.] 1854 Autobiography of an Actress, or Eight Years on the Stage. Anna Cora Mowatt. Boston: Ticknor, Reed & Fields. [Chapter 27 contains her defence of the stage. She speaks of Poe as "one of my sternest critics."] 1855 Plays. Anna Cora Mowatt [Including "Armand" and "Fashion"!. Boston: Ticknor & Fields. 1859 Jerrold, Douglas, The Life and Remains of. Bos- ton: Ticknor & Fields. [Vide Jerrold's "Black- Eyed Susan."] i860 Forrest, Edwin. Acting Ed. of Plays. [Othello, King Lear, Macbeth, Hamlet, Richelieu, Richard III, Damon and Pythias.] New York: W. A. Moore. 337 TJSibllOHs i860 Leaves from an Actor's Note-Book: With Reminis- i». lUdU^' cences and Chit-chat of the Green-room and the rapl)^ Stage in England and America. George Vanden- hoff. New York: Appleton. [Vide Macready.J 1874 Forrest, Edwin, Life of: With Reminiscences and Personal Recollections. James Rees [CoUey Cibber]. Philadelphia : Peterson & Bros. [Ref. Davenport.] 1875 Macready, William Charles. Reminiscences and selections from his diaries and letters. Ed. Sir Frederick Pollock. New York: Macmillan. 1877 Forrest, Edwin, Life of. William Rounseville Alger. [Ref. Davenport.] 1881 Brougham, John, Life of. Ed. William Winter. Boston: J. R. Osgood & Co. [Vide Davenport references, and plays.] 1881 Drury Lane, Old. Edward Stirling. 1882 Edwin Forrest. Lawrence Barrett. [Am. Act. Ser.] Boston : J. R. Osgood. 1886 Actors and Actresses of Great Britain and the United States. Ed. Matthews and Hutton. [Vide E. L. Davenport, by Henry Edwards.] 1889 Cushman, Charlotte : A Lecture. Lawrence Barrett (Dunlap Soc. Pub., No. 9.) 1891 Journal of a London Playgoer. Henry Morley. 1894 Booth, Edwin, Life of. William Winter. 1896 American Actors, Famous, of To-day. Ed. F. E. McKay and C. E. L. Wingate. [Vide Fanny Davenport.] 1898-9 Players of the Present. Clapp and Edgett. (Dunlap Soc. Pub., n.s. 7-9). [Vide Edgar L. Davenport, Jr., and May Davenport.] 1899 Mrs. John Drew, Autobiographical Sketch of. 1 90 1 Davenport, Edward Loomis: A Biography. Edwin Francis Edgett. (Dunlap Soc. Pub., n.s. 14.) [Photographs : i. E. L. D. ; 2. As Adam Trueman in "Fashion"; 3. Shylock; 4. Hamlet; 5. Sir Giles Overreach; 6. Richelieu; 7. Fanny Davenport; 8. E. L. D.; 9. Brutus; 10. Mrs. E. L. D.] 1902 Plays of the Present. Clapp and Edgett. [Vide Index.] 1902 Life on the Stage : My Personal Experiences and Recollections. Clara Morris (Harriott.) [Chap. 23. Ref. Fanny Davenport and E. L. D.] New York: McClure, Phillips. 338 1902 Edgar Allan Poe's Criticisms of Mrs. Mowatt in the '^l^tftlt'nrt Virginia edition of Poe's works (17 vols.). ["The JOHMVU\^i New Comedy" (Fashionj. Later Crit. xii, 112. t*;)tlTl'tY "Prospects of the Drama." Later Crit. xii, 124. Vwiff^c "Criticism of Her Acting." Later Crit. xii, 184- 92, 210, "The Fortune Hunter," etc. Later Crit. xii, 207. Vide The Literati, vol. xv, 27; vol. xv, 28; vol. XV, 92, "Fashion."] 1905 Eytinge, Rose, Memories of. [Vide Davenport, Booth, Wallack, Augustin Daly, George Holland.] MAGAZINES 1878 Lippincott, 21: 463, April. Recollections of E. L. Davenport. Henry P. Goddard. 1884 Theatre English^, March. Quoted from New York Spirit of the Times. Recollections of Fanny Dav- enport. 1888 Lippincott, 42: 565, October. Some Childish Mem- ories. Fanny Davenport. 1898 Athenaeum (English), p. 462, October i. Biog. Sketch. Fanny Davenport. 1898 Critic, 33: 232, October. Fanny Davenport. 1901 McClure, 16: 201, January. My First Appearance in New York. Clara Morris. [Davenport, F., Daly, Linda Dietz, Agnes Ethel.] 1901 McClure, 17: 256-61, July. Recollections of E. L. Davenport. Clara Morris. 1905 Theatre, New York, June, seq. Personal Recollec- tions of Augustin Daly. Margaret Hall. [Ref. Davenports. Vide also Edward A. Dithmar's "Memories of Daly's Theatre."] [Vide newspaper accounts of discussion between Fanny Davenport and Sarah Bernhardt regarding Cleopatra. Vide also Indices of New York Tribune, under Drama, for ref. to Davenports,] X— THE HOLLANDS BOOKS [In the preparation of this chapter, I am indebted to Messrs. George, E. M., and Joseph Holland for kind assistance.] 1868 Theatrical Management in the West and South. By Solomon Smith. 339 ItAlhlinrr ^^7^ George Holland, Life of. Ed. T. H. Morrell. ii^'lUilU^' [Privately printed, New York.] fflllHll 1877 Forrest, Edwin. William Rounseville Alger. IwfVK 1880 Dramatic Life as I Found It. N.M.Ludlow. [Ref. to Holland, p. 733 seq.] 1 88 1 The Jeffersons. William Winter. [Letter from J. B. Booth to George Holland.] 1889 Brief Chronicles. William Winter. [George Hol- land, St.] 1896 American Actors, Famous, of To-day. Ed. F. E. McKay and C. E. L. Wingate. [E. M. Holland, by George Parsons Lathrop.] 1900 Famous Actors of the Day in America. L. C. Strang. [Chap. 9, pp. 58-69. E. M. Holland.] 1 90 1 Players of the Present. Clapp and Edgett. [Vide Holland. Vide also Plays of Present.] 1901 Comedians, A Group of. William L. Keese. (Dun- lap Soc. Pub., n.s. 15.) [Henry Placide, W. R. Blake, Charles Fisher, John Brougham, and George Holland.] 1905 Eytinge, Rose, Memories of. [Vide Holland, Vide also indices of the New York Tribune.] XI— THE POWERS BOOKS [In the preparation of this chapter, I am indebted to Mr. Tyrone Power for kind assistance.] 1824 Biography of the British Stage: Being Correct Nar- rative of the Lives of all the Principal Actors and Actresses. New York. 1836 Impressions of America: During the Years 1833, 1834, and 1835. Tyrone Power, Esq. Phila- delphia: Carey, Lea, & Blanchard (2 vols.). 18 — ? Paddy Carey; or. The Boy of Clogheen. Farce. Tyrone Power. London: T. H. Lacy. 18 — ? How to Pay the Rent. Farce. Tyrone Power. New York: W. Taylor & Co, 18 — ? Born to Good-luck; or. The Irishman's Fortune. Farce. Adapted from "False and True." Tyrone Power. London: T. H. Lacy. 1831 Married Lovers: A Petite Comedy. Tyrone Power. Baltimore : J. Robinson. 340 1838 St. Patrick's Eve ; or, The Order of the Day. Tyrone Ol^lhTinitj Power. London : Chapman & Hall. ^jv^vwjj 1847 Lives of the Most Celebrated Actors and Actresses. |*flrjllV Thomas Marshall. [London: E. Appleyard. July •'**r*^ t 6, 1847.] 1847 Twenty-six Years of the Life of an Actor and Man- ager. Wemyss. 1872 Representative Actors. William Clark Russell. London: F. Warne & Co. [Vide Power, p. 377.] 1880 Dramatic Life as I Found It. N. M. Ludlow. 1 88 1 Drurv Lane, Old. Edward Stirling. 1884 Edmund Yates: His Recollections and Experiences. London: Bentley (2 vols.). [Ref. Power, Bou- cicault, Wallack.] 1889 Lester Wallack, Memories of. Scribner's. 1890 Autobiography of Joseph Jefferson. Century. 1898 Actors of the Century. Frederic Whyte. 1899 Drama, The, of Yesterday and To-day. Clement Scott. 1902 Plays of the Present. Clapp & Edgett. [Ref. Power and Edith Crane.] MAGAZINES 1852 Dublin University Magazine, 40: 256, 557, 715, September, November, December. Tyrone Power : A Biography. By J. W. C. [Calcraft met Power in Newcastle-on-Tyne in 1819. Manager, Dublin Theatre Royal, later.] 1902 Tribune, New York, November 20. William Winter on Tyrone Power's Judas in Heyse's "Mary of Magdala." 341 in. 1 he came home to act. \ seized by Stage Fright ; -Anybody can make a Uvmj on S the stage," the youth had said leck i'lohi. father gave him a bit in I ..Brother Sam/' a ^^o- ^^^f jj a New York theatre. The boy ^-d * only one line to speak, but ^hen he faced his father on the stage 1 his tongue clove t. the roo of h.s Louth and he did not mumble a ''Tnstead he fled from the stage, frightened and broken-hearted. His father a trouper of the old school, father, a i i ^^^^^ ^^ determmed that nis bu «n actor at all costs, and sent him an actor, t ^ ^^^ to Boston to stuay. ^^ward months the father placed Edward with John McCullough, the trage IZ and the youth started workmg hfsway from minor parts to ma3or. . r:! ^ackT^ew vork and did *\ o «nrt in "Called Back. f Tr Sothern wrote_^pla^Whose 'r ^ ^oT NTuu ainqu^sip JO asBx^ r'^nd oa%Xp^2Uomn^ ^°" '^ 4 1:^4? P- -^^TLT^r \ulf (-y^T'SfV^v- .-^»rXTHr»TT C'lfS r-f7 wv^ > ^OAHvaaiiAv''^ ^^Awaaii-^^"^ =0 yi;. < Jo v-S- ^.IJ^V ^ ^'^ XWtUMVERS/^, '^ < > < o -•iirnri. rvc r»iicnn. .^^ O = < ^TilJONVSOV^^ %a]AINfl]UV cUMuiiv^tor/.. v.in»c- f^'x UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. • • "Pi 5 1985 - o \m\w ANGEL/" 'SOl^^ v7^a3AINn]WV ^6?Aavaaniv^ i .-^ 33 ^5 OJO''^ 'ciujiiv ^v• -'Jiijnviui'^ 3 1158 0101 7 1915 1 fFOff/it;, ^^^.OFCAilFO/?^. ^i^ ^ ^. 8IH^ ^OAdVb, iv,-' ^W[ UNIVERI/A ,v>;lOSANCElfj: ;^ c^. ^ 4,OFCALIF0% '^ v'ERV/) 7- ^^^ vlOSASGElfj. ^. .# is- ^WE UNIVERi-//, 'J- ■SOl^ o CP C: r.Flff^,^ ^^.OFCAUFOff,^;, \y,^ ^^V^FUNIVl •SOV"^"' :JAINI1]WV -< ^ f 1 >. ^ ^ V r /" 1 1 I r r\ n J I J J.' 1 JU I • vj IJ J \l. ' 1 t J I * . !n'" \vr.nrr, .oM7!^Af^Yn^ .oTimPAnv/^.- <^ -^^WE (i^'ivFDr/