SEASON OF '68 AND '69.
Davenport's engagement ended, Miss Ince resumed and played from
September the 5th to the 17th, then departed for the Golden Shores of
the Pacific. Now again, after this brilliant succession of stars, the
stock company was left to its own unaided efforts, and from September
the 17th to November the 26th they kept the wheel turning with a
steady stream of stock pieces, and the old mill grinds, and the box
office does business and the actors get their salaries. "Stars may
come and stars may go, but the stock keeps on for aye." This was a
good long stretch of stock work from September the 17th, through the
October Conference and away to nearly the end of November, ten weeks
of it; broken only by a rest of three nights, when Perepa Rosa gave us
a series of Operatic Concerts, November the 14th, 15th and 16th. Salt
Lake even then had a great love of music and turned out large
audiences to hear the famous prima donna and her talented support,
including her husband, the brilliant violinist and conductor, Carl
Rosa.
Now we arrive at another important event in our theatre's history, the
first engagement of John McCullough. For several years Lawrence
Barrett and John McCullough had been the lessees and managers of the
old California Theatre in San Francisco, and in spite of Barrett's
known sagacity as a manager and notwithstanding the succession of
brilliant stars presented at the California and the magnificent stock
company kept to support them, the venture was not a financial success,
and Barrett and McCullough were forced to succumb. Then it was that
McCullough began his career as a star; what reputation he had made up
to this time was as Edwin Forrest's leading man. "Larry" Barrett had
"starred" some in the character of Elliott Gray in "Rosedale," now
they were both out of a job and looking for engagement. Barrett went
East and resumed his starring in "Rosedale" and gradually drifted into
the Shakespearian roles. McCullough went to Virginia City, Nevada,
with a picked-up company, and played his first star engagement. They
took to the "genial" John very kindly there, and worked him him up a
rousing big benefit; those were the palmy days of the Comstock and
everybody had money, actors were at a premium in the camp and the old
theatre was packed at every performance. The "Benefit" netted
McCullough over two thousand dollars and "John" was glad he was an
actor. He knew we had a fine theatre and a good company in Salt Lake,
so he made arrangements to come and play with us a spell. On November
the 26th, he opened in "Damon" and followed it in quick succession
(playing nightly) with "Richelieu," "Hamlet," "Othello," "Shylock,"
Volage in "Marble Heart," "Richard III," "Robbers," "Macbeth,"
"Brutus," "Romeo and Juliet," etc., etc.
This was a very notable engagement, in more ways than one. It was
notable for its length, covering a stretch of twenty-three nights;
likewise for its strength, as George B. Waldron and Madam Scheller,
who had both returned from a Montana tour, were added to the company
to stiffen the cast--here we had really three stars and a strong,
capable, self-sustaining stock company in the cast of all the plays
during McCullough's first Salt Lake engagement, which lasted three
weeks, terminating on September 17th. Again the stock company was left
to its own strength and resources and even after this brilliant trio
of dramatic artists, McCullough, Scheller and Waldron dropped away
from us, the managers, with never-failing confidence and temerity, put
forward the stock once more to plough through the billowy Christmas
time, past the new year and on to February 10th, when we welcomed
another acquisition to the ranks in the person of Miss Annie Lockhart.
Miss Lockhart was an English lady of liberal education, refined and
cultured; and although she had not posed as a "star actress," she had
an extended and varied experience on the stage. She had been for
several years in Australia in the stock companies of Melbourne and
Sidney, where she had met, loved and married an actor by the name of
Harry Jackson. Harry was a talented character man, but the flowing
bowl was his weakness and Annie in time wearied of his indiscretions
and indulgences, "shook him off to beggarly divorcement," left him in
San Francisco and came to Salt Lake in quest of an engagement. She
must have made a very favorable impression on the managers, for they
put her in as stock "star" up to March 1st, and she continued a member
of the company up to her fatal illness in the following November.
Annie Lockhart was at this time about thirty-two years of age, a woman
of comely appearance and gentle mien, and if not great like Julia
Dean, Annette Ince, or Charlotte Crampton, was always pleasing and
satisfactory. She delighted in such characters as "Matida" in "Led
Astray," the dual role in "Two Loves and a Life," "Janet Pride," "Peg
Woffington" and kindred light comedy characters. Miss Lockhart was a
very tasteful dresser; she always made a good appearance in her part.
During her long stay with the stock company a number of stars
appeared. The first after her engagement was James A. Herne, who
opened on March 1st, 1869, in "Rip Van Winkle." Herne's "Rip" made a
great hit and had an extraordinary run of five nights. Herne played
ten nights doing "Solon Shingle," "Captain Cuttle," and some other
characters. Then he was joined by Lucille Western who appeared as the
leading stellar attraction supported by Herne and the stock company.
Miss Western opened in her original character of "Lady Isabel" in
"East Lynne." It was undoubtedly a great performance of the character,
but the recollection of Julia Dean Hayne in the part was still fresh
in the public mind, and she had made such a powerful impression in
this character that Lucille Western was compared with her only to her
disadvantage, notwithstanding she was the original "Lady Isabel." We
had now in rapid succession Western's entire repertory which included
"The Child Stealer," "Green Bushes," "Oliver Twist," "Flowers of the
Forest," "Don Caesar de Bazan" (with Western as the Don), and "Foul
Play." Miss Western's engagement proceeded smoothly and drew large
audiences. One of the Herne-Western performances created a genuine
sensation in Salt Lake. It was "Oliver Twist." In the scene where Bill
Sykes (Herne) kills Nancy (Miss Western), both Herne and Miss Western
sought to make the murder as realistic and blood curdling as possible.
The murder is done off the stage in a room on the left; Sykes is
supposed to beat Nancy to death with his ugly stick which he carries
through the play. To carry out the realism of the beating a pad was
made of a number of wet towels; these Herne struck with a piece of
board, making a sickening thud which Lucille accompanied with a
scream, each one growing fainter, until it became a groan, then Bill
steals across the stage and off at an outer door and Nancy, almost
dead, drags herself on till she gets to the centre of the stage, her
face completely hidden by her dishevelled hair when she gets to
position centre she turns her face which has been covered from the
audience, throws her hair back and reveals her face covered with stage
gore. On this occasion the picture was so revolting that several women
in the audience fainted--everybody was shocked. The actress had made
it as revolting as possible, thinking to make a sensation. She
succeeded, but had she been a woman of finer feelings, instead of
seeking to make the picture as horrible and repulsive as she could she
would have studied how to make it effective without being repulsive.
President Young was very angry over it. The picture was very
abhorrent; there is no knowing what the physiological results were; it
was rumored afterwards that a number of children were birthmarked as
the result of it. The President gave orders that the piece should not
be played again and sent messengers all over the city to tell the
people not to go and see it if it was put on again. Of course the
managers withdrew it in deference to his wish, but there is no doubt
the house would have been crowded had it been repeated, for the
prohibition only aroused a greater curiosity to see it; forbidden
fruit, you know, is generally most hankered after. The play has been
done here several times since President Young's death, but never in
such a shocking manner.
On the night of the "Benefit" Lucille chose to show us what she looked
like in male attire, so she put up "Don Caesar" and appeared in the
role of the ragged cavalier. Before the play was over it was very
apparent that Lucille had been indulging in the ardent, but she
managed to get through without materially marring the play. The next
night, however, was Charles Reade's "Foul Play." This piece was
entirely new to the company, never having been done in the theatre
before, so that the stock company was hard pushed with study to get
their lines, but with their accustomed industry and regularity they
were all _au fait_ on this first occasion, and the play might have
scored a genuine success if the "star" had done her part towards it;
but she repeated her indulgence of the night before and to such a
degree that by the opening of the fourth act she was in a very sorry
plight. This act is on an uninhabited island; there has been a
shipwreck and the hero and heroine have been washed or driven or blown
onto this island and with a few of the ship's crew are the only
survivors. As the act opens Robert Penfold (Lindsay) and Helen
Rolleston (Miss Western) are discovered on a high cliff looking for a
sail. The few survivors of the crew have gone in search of fresh water
and something to eat, and the two leading characters have the entire
act between them until the finale when a rescuing party arrives with a
boat. Here was a dilemma; never was a stage lover placed in a more
embarrassing position. It was quite apparent to him as they ascended
to the cliff before the rise of the curtain that the stalwart Lucille
was not in proper condition for climbing cliffs, more particularly
stage cliffs, which are generally pretty shaky affairs, and the
probability of a sudden and unlocked for descent was anything but a
pleasing prospect to Mr. Lindsay. To still further embarrass him he
discovered that Lucille's tongue was decidedly thick, in fact she
could scarcely articulate. The curtain should never have gone up; it
would have saved the management, the actors, and particularly Miss
Western, a vast amount of humiliation; Miss Western should have been
suddenly ill; or an announcement made to that effect and the audience
dismissed and their money refunded if necessary; they should have been
spared the agony of witnessing a really great artiste rendered
imbecile and helpless by an uncontrollable appetite for liquor. But
the curtain did go up and down went Lucille. At the very first step
she made to descend she staggered, and in spite of all that her stage
lover could do to steady her she made a sudden unsteady descent and
landed in a kneeling position on the stage. Oh! the agony of that
moment! With assistance she staggered to her feet, and now as she
attempted to speak her first speech in the act, a new terror seized
me. Her words were thick and inarticulate--not heard at all by the
majority of the audience, who now began to realize the true condition.
It was evident to everybody on the stage that she could never get
through the act, and so the stage manager, after another abortive
attempt on her part to say her lines, sent on the boat with the rescue
party and the finale of the act was reached. Never was such a scene
between a pair of stage lovers so horribly mutilated as this; never
was an act so fearfully and unintelligibly abbreviated as this one,
and never did a rescue party arrive more opportunely. It plucked the
"star" from immediate disgrace, an embarrassed actor from despair. It
was no wonder the audience remained for the last act, for they had
before the end of the fourth act divined the true state of affairs and
they stayed, curious to see how it would or could end. The last act
was a court room scene and the star had to sit on the witness stand.
She did not make a very intelligent witness but sat there with a
bright green silk gown, with a face flushed to redness, and looking
the picture of helplessness. How we got through that act, I don't
think anyone engaged in it could have told, but with the prompter's
assistance reading most of Miss Western's lines, we blundered through
and the final drop came on the most inglorious and trying performance
I ever had part in.
The manager promptly cancelled Miss Western's engagement, although she
had one more night to play. The following night "Arrah Na Pogue" was
put up with Mr. Herne in the part of "Shaun the Post," but as if the
fates had decreed that this Herne-Western engagement should end
disgracefully, if not disastrously, this last night went on record as
losing one for the managers and a discreditable one to the solitary
remaining star. Owing to the fiasco of the night before, a rather
slender audience was in attendance to witness Mr. Herne's last
appearance. Whether this fact had to do with the sudden indisposition
and collapse of Mr. Herne on this occasion, there is no means of
knowing, but the writer has ever been of the opinion that it was the
very perceptible falling away of the patronage and his chagrin and
vexation over Miss Western's conduct of the night before that wrought
upon the actor's nervous system to such a degree that he declared
himself unable to appear. The writer's dressing room was so situated
that he could not hear what was transpiring on the stage. When the
curtain time arrived and I came down to the stage all made up for
"Michael Feeney," to my great surprise I was informed there was to be
no performance; the audience had been dismissed owing to the sudden
illness of Mr. Herne. Herne was seated on the big curtain roller and a
number of the company around him, offering sympathy and assistance to
the disabled star who appeared to be in great agony. I returned
hastily to my dressing room and divested myself of Michael Feeney's
habiliments, and resuming my own attire, was soon back to Mr. Herne's
side and proffered my assistance to help him to his hotel. In the
meantime a doctor, who kept his office a few doors west of the
theatre, had been called in and he requested us to bring Herne to his
office. There were few hacks or gurney cabs in those days, and so with
the assistance of Mr. Hardie and myself, Mr. Herne managed with
difficulty to reach the doctor's office. This doctor was one of the
old school of practitioners and like Felix Callighan, in "His Last
Legs," he proceeded to "cup" or bleed the patient. After he had
relieved Herne of a quart or so of superfluous blood, he bandaged the
cupping; gave the patient a dose of regulation stimulant and directed
the patient to be taken to his hotel and placed comfortably in bed. It
was a quarter of a mile to the White House and there was not a hack or
vehicle of any kind available, so Hardie and I formed a seat for the
sick actor by locking our hands together and getting the patient's
hands over our shoulders, we carried him to the White House. By the
time we got him up a long flight of stairs to his room, we were tired
and winded, although Margetts and McKenzie, who had accompanied us,
took turns at the carrying business. Scarcely had we got the sick
actor in bed before a knock at the door (a sort of frightened knock)
was heard, and as we said "come in" the door opened and Miss Western,
clad in her night gown, with a shawl around her, timidly entered and
inquired with great anxiety what the matter was. On being informed
that Mr. Herne had been taken so ill that the audience had to be
dismissed, and he carried home to his room, she became hysterical.
Bursting into tears she exclaimed, piteously, "Oh, my God! This is
awful! Oh, Jimmie!" addressing herself passionately to Herne. "I wish
we were home with mother!" She evidently had not fully recovered from
her carousal of the night before, and in her half stupid, half
hysterical condition, moaned and prayed as if some terrible calamity
had befallen her. Herne rapidly recovered from his illness and the
co-stars left Salt Lake. Lucille never returned, but Herne came back
early in 1874 and hovered between Salt Lake and Ogden for a long time,
and finally drifted to San Francisco, where he became the stage
manager of the Bush Street and afterward of the Baldwin theatre when
Tom Maguire, "The Napoleon" of the Pacific coast, as he was called at
the time, opened that popular theatre. That was before any of the
Eastern managers had invaded San Francisco.
The Herne-Western engagement closed on April 17th and was closely
followed by Fannie Morgan Phelps, who played from April 20th to May
20th, appearing in a new line of plays for the diversion of the stock
company as well as the public. She opened in "Meg's Diversion," and
proved to be a prime favorite. "The Deal Boatman," "Black Eyed Susan,"
she seemed to have a partiality for nautical pieces and succeeded in
making the seashore heroines very attractive. Fanny stayed four weeks
with us, then went to Montana. She never paid us a second visit
although Salt Lake treated her very handsomely in the way of
patronage. Mrs. Phelps was a widow; her husband, Ralph Phelps, a
popular actor, was killed by a blow from a tackle block on board of
the steamer coming from Australia.
Our next stellar attraction was Charles Wheatleigh, who opened on May
20th in "Sam," supported by Annie Lockhart and the stock company.
Wheatleigh gave nine performances, the pieces presented being "Sam,"
"Lottery of Life," "Arrah Na Pogue," "After Dark," and "Under the
Gaslight." Charley Wheatleigh was rather a brilliant comedian. His
plays proved very popular and he played a memorable engagement.
The next engagement was one that eased the labors of the stock
company, giving most of us a rest. It was the Howson Opera company. It
was quite a family affair. The company consisted of Pere Howson, Mere
Howson, John Howson, Frank Howson, Clelia Howson, and Fannie Howson.
They were a very talented musical family and played light opera very
well indeed. They opened in the "Grand Duchess," their cast being
filled up with members of the stock company who could sing. They
played from January 1st to the 20th, each opera being played twice or
three times. The Howsons were well liked and made many friends, both
in and out of the theatre.
Prof. Hartz, a magician, followed the Howson engagement, holding the
stage from January 21st to the 26th.
On June 28th, 1869, George D. Chaplin made his first appearance at
this theatre in "Hamlet," playing thirteen performances, closing July
10th in "Armadale." Chaplin made a very favorable impression and later
played a longer engagement. He had been leading man for Ben DeBar in
St. Louis, and was a versatile actor, fond of playing "Hamlet" and
"Macbeth," in which, if not great, he was always pleasing. Then, as if
to prove his versatility, he would put on a burlesque called "The
Seven Sisters," and appear as the principal sister. George had a
handsome face, and a very plump physique, and made up for a woman, he
was a study.
On July 12th, Lotta opened in "Little Nell," and played during the
week "Captain Charlotte," "Firefly," and "Topsy" in "Uncle Tom's
Cabin."
George Chaplin resumed on July 10th, opening in the burlesque of "The
Seven Sisters" and filled out a week with "Ten Nights in a Barroom,"
"Money," and the burlesque of "Pocahontas," in which he played
"Powhattan" very cleverly.
July 26th, Kennedy's Scottish Entertainment held the boards, and on
the 28th a new star was ushered in that gave the stock company more
work, just as we were expecting a brief summer vacation--Geraldine
Warden. She played four nights and a matinee. This engagement closed
the season as far as the stock company was concerned. It was now July
31st and the company had the month of August in which to rest from
study and rehearsals, for the fall season would open early in
September.
The theatre was not entirely closed, however, in August. On the 18th
of that month, Murphy and Mack's minstrels opened and continued until
the 28th giving eleven performances. This was Joe Murphy's first visit
to Salt Lake, when he was a black face artist, and before he had
dreamed of becoming an Irish comedian. The fact of this company giving
eleven performances in the theatre in August shows how very popular
they were, and how Salt Lake liked minstrelsy.