SEASON OF '66-'67.
After the close of this eventful season, Mr. George Waldron, who had
played the leading support to Mrs. Hayne and become an established
favorite, drifted away from Salt Lake, going into Montana; returning a
year or so later in conjunction with Mrs. Waldron. He had found his
mate and brought her to Salt Lake to make her acquainted with his many
friends there. George tried very earnestly to get a Salt Lake wife. It
looked for a while as if Miss Sarah Alexander was destined to fill
that place; she certainly filled George's eye. He was very much
enamored of the petite and lithesome Sarah, but the expected union did
not materialize, and George sought pastures new, and ere long
returned, bringing a beautiful wife with him. Meantime, Sarah had
drifted off to the East in company with a literary lady named Lisle
Lester. They took with them Sarah's little niece, her dead sister's
baby, Baby Finlayson, then but two years old. Miss Finlayson, under
her aunt's careful guidance and training, developed into a very clever
and capable actress, and for many years now has been holding leading
positions in prominent companies and theatres. She is known
professionally as Lisle Leigh.
The Waldrons played a short engagement and then bade a long farewell
to Salt Lake and the West. At this writing George Waldron has been
dead for ten years, his wife, a son and a daughter survive him; all
follow the stage successfully.
During the season of '65 and '66, there were few changes in the
supporting stock company. Mr. Waldron doing the leads, lightened
considerably the labors of the "leading man," Mr. D. McKenzie, who was
quite content to escape the onerous study the leading parts would have
imposed, and play something easier. Before the beginning of this
season, Mr. H. B. Clawson had retired altogether from the field as an
actor, although still one of the managers of the house, and Mr. Phil
Margetts was the acknowledged premier comedian of the company. Mr.
John T. Caine, too, Clawson's associate manager, and also stage
manager, yielded up his line of parts to John S. Lindsay and devoted
himself exclusively to the duties of stage manager, which in the old
"stock" days meant far more than that office means today. "Why, in the
elder day to be a 'stage manager' was greater than to be a king," in
any of the plays. Briefly enumerated, his duties were: First, to
_read_ carefully and then _cast_ all the plays. The casting of a play
is a most important affair. It must be done with great care and
consideration so as to get the best results, and at the same time each
actor his "line" of parts as near as practicable; then he must write
out the cast, and hang it up in the case in the green room--write out
all "calls" for rehearsals, and hang them up in the case. Then he must
direct all rehearsals. To do this, he must study out all the
"business" of the play in advance of the rehearsals, so he will be
able to direct intelligently. When a "star" is rehearsing, he
generally directs the rehearsal, thus relieving the stage manager of a
great responsibility; but he must be around, and see what is required
for the play in the way of scenery and properties and make out
complete and detailed plots for scene-men and property-men, and in
this particular case where the theatre furnished the actors with all
wardrobes (except modern clothes), the stage manager had also to make
out a _costume plot_. The costumer would then distribute the wardrobe
for the play according to his best judgment, and the conceit or fancy
of the actor, which often made the costumer's duty a perplexing one,
for actors are so full of conceits and fancies that they are a hard
lot to please.
In the Salt Lake Theatre a first-class copyist was constantly employed
in copying out parts--books were not so easily procured in those days.
It took from three to four weeks to get a book from New York, so where
the manager had but one book all the parts had to be copied, and the
stage manager had to have his plays selected well ahead, so as to give
the copyist plenty of time to get parts ready for distribution.
Besides these duties, the stage manager had to write out all the
"copy" for advertisements and posters and house programs, see to the
painting of new scenes, and the making of new properties; also, any
new costumes that had to be made. His decision was final in all these
matters, so that the stage manager of the "old stock" days was no
sinecure. Mr. Caine filled the position with rare ability, and his
regime in the Salt Lake Theatre was distinguished for its prompt
executive alertness, and the utter absence of any trifling or
inattention to business.
One important accession there was to the company just before this
engagement, that of Miss Annie Asenith Adams. Miss Adams made her
debut on the 25th of July, 1865, (the same night that Julia Dean-Hayne
and the Potter Company arrived in Salt Lake), in the character of
Grace Otis in the "People's Lawyer," W. C. Dunbar being the "Solon
Shingle" on the occasion. Her maiden effort proved very successful and
satisfactory to the management, and during Julia Dean's long
engagement she proved to be a valuable acquisition to the stock
company. She made rapid progress in the dramatic art, and before the
close of the season had attained a prominent position in the company
which she held with credit to herself and satisfaction to the public
until 1874, when the stock company was virtually retired to give place
to the "combination" system which then came into vogue.
On August 15th, 1869, a little more than four years after her debut,
Miss Adams was married to Mr. James H. Kiskadden. Between the time of
her debut and her marriage, Asenith (she was always called "Senith" in
those days) was not only a favorite with the public, but she had a
number of ardent admirers among the "opposite sex." There was quite a
rivalry for her affections between several members of the company, but
the most ardent of them were already married, and although _they_ did
not consider that a bar to their hopes, in Annie's case they were not
eligible; so the chief rivalry existed on the outside of the theatre.
Mr. Kiskadden, or "Jim," as he was universally called by his
acquaintances, was cashier in his brother William's bank (the location
is the identical room where Walker Brothers' Bank is today). Jim was a
dashing sort of fellow, big and manly, with a determined kind of air,
that seemed to say, "Things must go my way." He drew a good salary,
dressed well, and always wore immaculate linen, his shirt front always
illuminated with a large diamond. He was inclined to "sporting," and
was recognized as the champion billiard player of the town in those
days. How much apprehension "Jim" endured regarding "Senith's" married
suitors in the theatre we have no means of knowing, but it is probable
she set his doubts at rest on that score by assuring him that she
would never marry an already married man. She had seen enough of that
to make her dread it. However this might be, "Jim" had a rival and a
dangerous one in the person of Mr. Jack O'Neil. Jack was beyond
question the handsomer fellow of the two; indeed, he was handsome as a
prince, always dressed superbly and was one of the most attractive
looking men in Salt Lake. Jack was very much infatuated with the
rising young actress and missed no opportunity to make known to her
his appreciation of her talents and his admiration and adoration of
herself. The rivalry between Jack and Jim was at white heat for a
spell, and it would not have been very much of a surprise to their
intimates if there had been a challenge sent and accepted, and a duel
fought over the young Mormon actress. Unfortunately for Jack and his
aspirations for the lady's affections, he was a _professional_ sport,
and that was against him. He had no other profession, and handsome and
cavalierly as he could be, he was classed as a gambler; while Jim
could flip the pasteboards just as skillfully, and lay them all out at
billiards, he did not follow it for a "stiddy liven," but held the
cashier's box in his brother's bank, for a steady job, and only
sported on the side, and so it came to pass that in the course of time
Jim distanced his handsome rival and bore off the prize. Many of
"Senith's" friends regretted this, as Jim did not belong to the
household of faith, but was a rank, out-spoken Gentile, utterly
opposed to Mormon ways, and not afraid to say so. Whereas all of
"Senith's" folks were staunch adherents of the Mormon faith and were
striving to live their religion in all its phases. So they did not
rejoice over "Senith's" marriage to a Gentile (as all non-Mormons were
called--Jews included). They regarded it as equivalent to apostasy
from the faith in which she had been reared, periling her soul's
salvation. She was not appalled, however, by the gloomy and hopeless
pictures some of her friends were kind enough to paint for her, and
bravely married the man she had set her heart upon and stuck by him
through thick and thin, sunshine and storm, prosperity and adversity.
On November 11th, 1872, Maude Kiskadden was born, within a stone's
throw of the Salt Lake Theatre, and before she was a year old made her
debut on the stage where her mother was a debutante some eight years
before. It looks now as if it were fate, as if she was predestined for
a great stage career. There was an emergency and Maude, not yet a year
old, was there to fill it. It happened in the following manner. In
those palmy days of the profession, the old stock days as they are now
called, it was customary to supplement the play with a farce--no
matter how long the play--even if a five-act tragedy, the evening's
performance was not considered complete without a farce to conclude
with. On this particular occasion, the farce was the "Lost Child," a
favorite with our comedian, Mr. Phil Margetts. He played Jones, a fond
and loving parent, who goes distracted over his lost child. Instead of
providing a real baby, as the property man had been instructed to do,
he had a grotesque-looking rag baby, not at all to the comedian's
taste in the matter. Millard, the property man, declared he had been
unable to procure a live baby, nobody was willing to lend a baby for
the part--older children he could get, but he could not get a baby,
and the rag baby was the best that he could do under the
circumstances, and on such short notice. Margetts was in distress.
"What, in Utah!" he exclaimed. "The idea!" Where babies are our best
crop, to be unable to procure one for his favorite farce. It was
simply preposterous, absurd, incredible; he objected to play with
nothing but a miserable makeshift of a rag baby. In agony he appealed
to the stage manager, Mr. Caine, to know if the farce was to be ruined
or made a double farce by the introduction into it of a grotesque doll
like that! It would be worse than a Punch and Judy show. Sudden as a
bolt from a clouded sky, while the altercation was still at its
height, Mrs. Kiskadden appeared in the centre of the stage with her
baby in her arms, and in a good-natured tone that ended all the
trouble, exclaimed, "Here's Maude, use her!" Maude was indeed a good
substitute for the inartistic-looking "prop" the property man had
provided. Phil was happy and played the distracted parent with a
realism and a pathos he never could have summoned for the rag baby.
When the cue came, Maude was ushered into the mimic scene, making her
first entrance on a large tray carried by a waiter. Then she was taken
from the tray into somebody's arms and tossed from one nurse to
another throughout the farce, until finally, as it ends, she is lodged
safely in the arms of Mr. Jones, her distracted father. To her credit,
be it recorded, she never whimpered or made any outcry or showed any
signs of alarm, but played her first part bravely, though perhaps
unconsciously; winning the admiration and love of the entire company.
It was a lucky accident that Maude was in the theatre that evening,
for her mother was not in the habit of bringing her to the theatre
when she had any one at home to take care of her, but this evening was
the "nurse's evening out," and "Maudie" had to be toted to the theatre
and carefully put to sleep before mamma could "make up" and go through
her part. Here she was safely stowed away in a safe and quiet corner
of the green room, where she had been blissfully reposing all through
the first play, and was now rather rudely awakened to fill the
distressing emergency.
It will be readily seen from this narration that Maude Adams was
virtually "born to the stage," her mother studying assiduously and
playing parts both before and after Maude's birth, often taking Maudie
with her, both to rehearsals and performances, so that she became a
familiar little object in the theatre before she could walk or talk,
and long before she could ever essay a speaking part she was the pet
of the Green Room.
We had a Green Room in the Salt Lake Theatre in those days, and a very
capacious and comfortable one, too. Such a commodious and luxurious
adjunct is scarcely known in the theatres today. Here the actors could
retire between the acts or during the scenes they were not engaged in,
and study over their lines, or if already easy in their parts, pass
the time in reading or social chat. It was the prompter's business to
send the "call boy" to the Green Room and all dressing rooms to "call
the act," a few minutes before he was ready to "ring up." The act
being called, each actor was required to be at his entrance on time;
if he should be late and make a "stage wait," the stage manager might
reprimand him, and impose a fine. Fines were also imposed for being
tardy at rehearsals. There was seldom any occasion for the enforcement
of this penalty, except in the case of "Jim" Hardie. "Jim" was a
notorious laggard, and often kept the company waiting for him. On one
occasion the company had been waiting his arrival for fifteen or
twenty minutes, when he strode in very hurriedly and taking the centre
of the stage, took off his hat and wiping the perspiration from his
brow, began an apology to the stage manager for being late. He had
only just begun to talk when a general laugh broke the gravity of the
occasion. Jim had just come from the barber's where he had his head
shaved, and his entire scalp down to the hat line was as smooth as a
billiard ball. His monkish appearance created much merriment, in which
the stage manager and Jim himself joined. Jim at a very early age
showed a tendency to baldness, and he had been told that shaving the
head was not only a check to it, but would stimulate the growth of the
hair, so he had to get his head shaved, even though he kept the
rehearsal waiting. I think the fine was omitted on this occasion,
owing to the fun the company had over it.
In the fall of 1874, after a connection of nine years with the Salt
Lake Theatre, Mrs. Kiskadden and her husband, no longer a cashier, the
bank having been long a thing of the past, removed to Virginia City,
where Miss Adams was engaged with a number of others from the Salt
Lake Theatre Company, including the writer, to form a stock company
for Mr. John Piper, the Virginia City manager. "Maudie," now nearly
two years old, formed one of the party. After playing a season with
Mr. Piper, Miss Adams went to San Francisco, where her husband had
preceded her some months previous, and secured a good position as
bookkeeper for the firm of Park & Lacy. Here they made their home for
about eight years, Annie playing at the San Francisco theatres
whenever she could get an engagement, and making occasional excursions
with dramatic companies into the neighboring cities.
In September, 1877, before she was five years old, "Maudie" played her
first speaking part with Joe Emmett in "Fritz" at the Bush Street
Theatre. When the question of Maudie playing in Joe Emmett's piece was
under consideration by Mrs. Kiskadden and she informed Mr. Kiskadden
she had an offer from Mr. Emmett for Maudie to play the child's part,
Mr. Kiskadden did not encourage the idea; he had a plenty of the
theatre as it was, so he rather bluffly remarked: "No, indeed, we
don't want Maude to make a fool of herself; one actress in the family
is quite enough." Maude looked up with a touch of his own
determination in her voice: "Papa, I won't make a fool of myself." She
was irresistible--her papa had to consent. Her second part was Crystal
in Herne and Belasco's "Hearts of Oak," then played under the name of
"Chums." She afterwards played a part with Oliver Doud Byron--and in
1878, when six years old, played little "Adriene" in "A Celebrated
Case" at the Baldwin Theatre. In this character she made a decided
hit. After the run of the play at the Baldwin, it was taken to
Portland, Oregon, and produced under John Maguire's management at the
New Market Theatre, with Annie Adams and little Maude specially
featured in the cast, the writer playing "Jean Renan" in this
production. "Ten Nights in a Bar Room" was then put on, little Maude
being made a feature as Mary Morgan, the writer playing "Joe." After
the close of the season at the New Market Theatre, the company went
out under the writer's management and played the Puget Sound circuit
in those two plays, little Maude being made a special feature.
During this trip Maude had her first "Benefit" at Walla Walla,
Washington. She was "put up" for a "benefit," extensively advertised,
and helped out the company's treasury--after netting something liberal
for her. In this tour Maude played in all the Puget Sound towns from
Portland to Victoria and all the principal towns of Washington. At its
conclusion, she and her mother returned to San Francisco, and she was
not seen again in public for some years. Mr. Kiskadden died in San
Francisco in '83, and Mrs. Kiskadden took his remains to Salt Lake for
burial. There she settled down for a time and sent Maudie to school.
Here in the city of her birth she attended school for the next four or
five years, but always had a yearning to get back to the stage; and
eventually her mother secured an engagement for herself and Maude in
"My Geraldine" and the "Paymaster" under the manager of Duncan B.
Harrison. From that she got into Frohman's "Lost Paradise," and from
that on her history is known to the theatre world.