SEASON OF '66-'67.
_An Interesting Prayer Meeting_.
Julia Dean Hayne's final appearance closed the fourth season of the
Salt Lake Theatre, counting the opening one which only lasted from
March 8th, '62, to the end of April, about eight weeks, the Irwin
season of '63 and '64, the Pauncefort season of '64 and '65, and the
Julia Dean Hayne season of '65 and '66.
Up to this time the only compensation the stock company received was a
pro rata dividend of the benefits given at the end of each season--no
one had been put on a salary. The stars, of course, got good liberal
percentages or salaries, but even the leading people of the stock
company realized but a very meager compensation from the two
performances that were gotten up as benefits, one for the ladies of
the company and the other for the gentlemen--the two nights' receipts
were aggregated and divided up among the company according to their
respective merits or worth to the management. These two benefit
performances alone probably aggregated twenty-five hundred dollars,
which, divided up among about thirty performers, actors and musicians,
did not prove satisfactory to a number of the company--more especially
some of the orchestra. As a consequence, the ensuing season
approaching, the salary question came to the front again very
strongly, and the "management" found a well-grounded reluctance on the
part of the company to enter upon a new season's work without a
certain and satisfactory compensation. This feeling was even stronger
among the orchestra than among the stage players, a number of them
being quite outspoken in their sentiment: "No pay, no play." The
principal agitator among the musicians was Mark Croxall, the brilliant
young cornetist recently from England. Mark could not see the
propriety or consistency of playing to help pay for the theatre. He
had not been used to that kind of thing in England, and although he
had been playing but a very short time as compared with the majority,
both of the orchestra and the dramatic company, he vowed he would play
no longer without a stipulated salary. This, of course, aroused all
the others to a certain show of opposition. The leader of the
orchestra, Prof. Thomas, or "Charlie," as he was affectionately called
by his familiars, was probably as dissatisfied with the existing
regime as Croxall or David Evans, the second violin, who was another
Britisher of recent importation and quite pronounced in his views
about the way the theatre should be run. Prof. Thomas was not of the
stuff that kickers are made of, and could doubtless have been managed
with the majority of his orchestra had it not been for the
recalcitrant Croxall, and the equally pugnacious Evans. The
dissatisfaction spread rapidly and alarmingly to the management, until
the entire dramatic company as well as the orchestra, was in a state
of semi-rebellion. All the actors and most of the musicians had other
occupations, as I have stated in a former chapter, and now the number
of performances and rehearsals had increased their work to such an
extent they could not see how they could give satisfaction to their
various employers and keep up their work at the theatre too. Some of
these declared it had to be one thing or the other, the theatre now
demanded the greater part of their time, and the employers had in
several instances intimated that they would have to give up the
theatre or be replaced in their employ by others. Mr. David McKenzie,
the leading man of the company, held a clerkship in President Young's
or the Church office; "Joe" Simmons, our juvenile man, and Horace
Whitney, the "old man" in the company, also held clerkships in the
same office; Mr. W. C. Dunbar, the Irish comedian, was a clerk in the
"tithing office," so their time went on whether they were working in
the "Church offices" or at the theatre; of course all their night work
at the theatre was extra work, but the day time they put in at the
theatre they were not docked for at the office; but with the other
leading members of the company it was quite different; the hours they
spent at the theatre in the day time was a positive loss to them. Phil
Margetts was a blacksmith, Lindsay and Hardie were carpenters, Evans
and Kelly were printers, and so on. So that several hours each day
spent in rehearsal meant a heavy tax when at the end of each week they
were docked for time lost, so there was a committee appointed to wait
upon the managers, Clawson and Caine, and present the situation. The
managers being only employees of Brigham Young and not proprietors or
lessees, passed the company's grievance up to their chief. The
managers saw plainly that a crisis had come, and a new departure must
be made. "The President," accustomed to having things his own way, and
with confidence in his influence, thought he could effect a
compromise, or adjust the matter without much trouble or cost, so in
pursuance of this idea a notice was posted for all the company and
orchestra to assemble in the Green Room of the theatre on a certain
evening to consider the question of salary. There was no tardiness on
that occasion, even "Jim" Hardie, notorious for being tardy, was on
time. Every employee of the theatre was there from the managers to the
night-watchman. The orchestra was in full force, and the ladies of the
company, even to the smallest utility, were there, all inspired with
the hope of being put upon the theatre salary list. The Green Room was
found to be too small to accommodate all the company, so the meeting
was shifted to the stage, which afforded the necessary room. President
Young called the meeting to order, and requested the company to join
him in prayer. It is customary in the Mormon Church to open all
meetings with prayer, even political ones where those present are all
of the household of faith. Brigham offered up a fervent prayer, asking
the blessing of the Almighty upon that meeting, and each and every one
present, that they might all see with an eye single to the glory of
God, and the building up of his Kingdom here on the earth. The prayer
over, the President arose and in a brief but very adroit speech, told
the object he had in view in building the theatre, the recreation and
amusement of the people, thanked those who had contributed to that
end, whether as actors or musicians, told them that they were
missionaries as much as if they were called to go out into the world
and preach the gospel, and the Lord would bless their efforts just as
much if they performed their parts in the same spirit. He understood
there was some dissatisfaction, however, and some of the brethren
thought it was too much of a tax upon their time to continue to do
this without proper compensation. He called on the brethren to state
their feelings in regard to this question that he might judge what was
best to do in the matter. It seemed as if the prayer and speech had
almost made them forget that they had any cause or grievance to
present, or it had blunted the edge of their courage. Every one was
expecting to see Mark Croxall, the principal agitator, get up and make
a statement in behalf of himself and the orchestra; but Mark's
courage, like that of many another agitator, seemed to have sunk into
his boots, when the ordeal came; he opened not his mouth. So the
second violinist, David Evans, who was a shoemaker by trade and a
cripple from birth, pulled himself to a standing position by the aid
of his crutches and spoke to the question. He told how hard he had to
work, and what a loss of time the rehearsals and plays occasioned him;
being up so much at nights, he could not get up very early in the
morning--and could not but lose several hours every day. Besides, he
said he did not think it right and just, when the theatre was taking
in such large sums of money at every performance, that those who
furnished the entertainment, whether in the art of music or the drama,
should be expected to continue to do it gratuitously. It was a bold,
fearless, manly speech and coming from a man who was obliged to sling
himself along through life on a pair of crutches, and a recent comer
from the old country, it sent a thrill of astonishment through the
company and fired some of the others with a spark of courage, too. Mr.
Phil Margetts, the leading comedian, arose and made an explanation of
his case; then a number of the other fellows followed suit. A sort of
"no pay, no play" sentiment pervaded the entire company. President
Young saw here an end of the old method; he discovered that a new deal
would have to be made with his actors if he wanted to continue in the
amusement business, so he tried an expedient. He was evidently a
little irritated at Evans, the crippled shoemaker, who had presumed to
take the initiative in the affair and express his views so fearlessly,
inspiring the others with a little of his own courage, but Brigham did
not show the lion's paw but spoke in rather a patronizing way of
Brother Evans's crippled condition, and said it was right that he
should have some additional pay, owing to his misfortune of being a
cripple. He told Evans he could have anything he needed out of his
private store; that if he would leave his flour sack there, it should
be regularly filled, and whatever else was there he was welcome to
what he needed of it. This savored a little too much of charity for
Evans, who although badly crippled in his limbs, was by no means a
weakling in his brains; and hurt a little by the President's
patronizing manner, he arose and said about as follows:
"President Young, I have had my flour sack at your store for more than
a month, and every time I have gone in to try and get it filled, the
clerk has told me the flour was all out." Evans's unique relation of
the flour sack incident injected a spark of humor into the
proceedings; a suppressed titter ran through the crowd, and even
Brigham, although nettled at this unexpected sally, could not repress
a grim smile.
That the reader may better understand the flour sack incident it must
be explained here that what little pay the actors and musicians had
been receiving for their services through the benefits was not all in
cash, but store orders mostly on the tithing store. The cash receipts
of the theatre up to this time and indeed as late as 1870 were
probably one-third of the gross receipts, the other two-thirds
consisting of orders on various stores or tithing pay, which consisted
of all kinds of home products--so that when the "benefits" were
divided up among the company each member got about one-third of his
"divvy" in cash and the other two-thirds in store orders and orders on
the tithing office. Evans was the possessor of an order on Brigham
Young's private store, and he felt chagrined that he had been so often
with that order and failed to draw it. Flour was flour in those days,
running as high at one time as twenty dollars per hundred, but the
uniform church or tithing office price was six dollars per hundred,
which was what the actors had to pay for it, but it was doled out very
sparingly to them at times when it was commanding high prices in
outside markets. With these orders they drew about all their
provisions from the tithing store. Artemus Ward amused the world by
telling how the Salt Lake Theatre used to take in exchange for tickets
cabbage, potatoes, wheat, carrots, and even sucking pigs through the
box office window. It was perhaps nearer the truth than he himself
suspected, for these tithing office orders were good for all these
things.
After the titter had subsided Brigham arose again, and answered
Brother Evans that he was sorry he had been disappointed so, but there
really had been a great scarcity of flour during the past month or so,
but he would see to it in the future that he would meet no more
disappointments. To Brother Phil Margetts he made an offer to come and
work in his blacksmith shop (Phil was running one of his own) and then
he need not lose any time; his pay would go on whether working in the
shop or in the theatre. Brother Lindsay could bring his carpenter
tools to the theatre and he could find plenty of work for him to fill
up the time between the rehearsals. To others he made similar
propositions; but these suggestions were not in harmony with the
feelings of the company, who thought they had given their time to
Brother Brigham long enough, and now contended with Brother Evans,
that as they were furnishing the amusements for the people, it was
only right that they should be paid for their services, so the result
of the meeting was that the company was put on salary. Salaries ranged
from $15.00 to $50.00 per week, one-third cash, the balance in store
orders and tithing office pay.