CHAPTER XXI.

SEASON OF '76-'77.

With the approach of the October Conference, which is always a harvest

for the theatre, Mr. Harris got together as strong a company as

possible and revived some of the old favorite plays, opening the

season of '76 and '77 a night or two before and continuing through the

Conference dates to satisfactory business. There was no "star" to

share with, and the theatre reaped a handsome profit.

The next engagement of importance was that of Mr. George Rignold, an

English actor, who was starring in "Henry V." Rignold had come from

England and under the management of Jarrett and Palmer, "Henry V." was

given a fine production in their New York theatre. For some reason or

other, after a short but successful run of the play, a disagreement

arose between those popular managers and Mr. Rignold. They decided to

supersede Mr. Rignold with Lawrence Barrett. They notified him

accordingly and at the expiration of the time for which he had been

engaged Mr. Barrett stepped into Rignold's place and the run of the

play was extended for several weeks. It was the intention to take the

play to San Francisco after the run in New York. This change of stars

threw Rignold out of the San Francisco engagement, much to his chagrin

and disappointment. Not to be out-generaled the English actor quietly

hastened to San Francisco. The California Theatre having been secured

for the Jarret and Palmer company, with as much dispatch and secrecy

as possible Rignold got a company together. Soon as it was known that

Rignold was in San Francisco and was preparing to give the play of

"Henry V" at the Grand Opera House, the news was duly wired to Jarrett

and Palmer; not only were they surprised, but greatly chagrined, on

learning that the English actor had gotten the start of them and was

in a fair way to eclipse their Western engagement. Mr. Barrett and the

managers, after a rather excited consultation, decided to close the

run of "Henry V" with the end of the current week, and have everything

in readiness to leave New York for San Francisco on the following

Sunday. The manager of the California was telegraphed to announce the

play for the following Thursday night. This gave scarcely a week for

advertising, and it seemed incredible that the company could reach San

Francisco by the time, but Jarrett and Palmer had at great expense

made arrangements with the railroad company for a special train, that

was to rush them through from New York to San Francisco in four days.

Barring accidents, they would arrive in San Francisco on Thursday

morning, in time to get their scenery in place and play that night.

It was taking desperate chances, but it was at the same time a great

advertising scheme, for never before had such a flying trip been made

across the continent, and every paper in the country had an account of

it. "From Ocean to Ocean eighty-three hours." Rignold had arranged to

open the following Monday, but learning to his amazement of the great

coup that Jarrett and Palmer were performing to get in ahead of him,

he got a move on too and decided to keep the lead, and open up at

least one night ahead of them, which was as soon as he could possibly

get ready. The fast train was the sensation of the hour, everybody was

talking of it and awaiting its arrival with keen expectancy. This

national advertisement gave the Jarrett and Palmer company a great

advantage over Rignold; besides, they had much the better production,

and the best company, as Rignold had to gather what support he could

and very hurriedly in San Francisco. This was very sharp managerial

practice; what especial reason Lawrence Barrett and the Jarrett and

Palmer management had for this extraordinary coup to down the English

actor we never learned. The rivalry of the two Henrys served to throw

theatrical circles in the Golden Gate City into a feverish excitement,

and the result was that both houses did a good business, as every

theatre-goer felt in duty bound to see both actors, and then compare

their respective merits. Until Rignold played "Henry V" in New York no

American actor had ever attempted the character; Barrett who had in

conjunction with John McCullough managed the California theatre during

the first three years of its career, saw an opportunity to do some

business there and win some fresh laurels in a new part. This in a

measure explains the _haste_ with which the thing was done. The rival

Henrys, however, did not succeed in giving the play a permanent

abiding place in popular favor. We think no other American actor has

ever had the temerity to try it, until the bold and undaunted Richard

Mansfield gave a superb production of it a quarter of a century

later--1902.[A]

[Footnote A: The above account of the "Henry V" excursion is written

entirely from the writer's recollection of the affair, having no

available data. It may contain some slight inaccuracies, but the main

facts were about as here related.]

After the Rignold date here, when "The Lady of Lyons," "Black-Eyed

Susan," and "Henry V" were given with such support as was available,

the stock played fitfully, interrupted by occasional novelties, such

as panoramas and concert companies, minstrels and the like, along the

holiday season and into the spring. On February 3rd, John S. Lindsay

was the recipient of another "benefit," on which occasion he exhibited

his strong predilection for Shakespearian roles by appearing as

Hamlet, a character in which he had already won some local

distinction. As on a previous benefit occasion, there were several

first appearances, and the cast as a whole was not very satisfactory,

but our friends were inclined to overlook many shortcomings on those

benefit occasions. As if "Hamlet" was not enough for a benefit

performance, we had to tack on the farce of "The Trials of Tompkins,"

in which Mr. Graham was wont to shine.

On the 23rd and 24th of February, Mr. E. A. Sothern, the world

renowned Dundreary, filled his first engagement at the Salt Lake

Theatre. He exacted a certainty of one thousand dollars in gold coin

for the two nights. Mr. Harris very naturally had some hesitancy about

closing an engagement with him on such exorbitant terms, so he made a

canvass of his patrons, and after a careful consideration, "closed the

deal" with Mr. Sothern. The prices were advanced from the usual scale

of twenty-five cents to one dollar, to fifty cents to two-fifty. The

house was well filled on both nights and the management, not having a

very expensive company or any production to pay for out of its share,

came out all right. There was much dissatisfaction, however, that such

exorbitant prices should be charged for what at best was but an

ordinary "show," especially the last night when David Garrick was

presented, and by ten o'clock the play was over, and the general

expression of the patrons of the theatre was "Sold!" Indeed so

outspoken was the dissatisfaction with David Garrick, and so severe

were the strictures of the press the following morning, that Mr.

Sothern could not have gotten fifty cents a ticket for a third

performance. As a natural consequence, it was a long time before he

came to Salt Lake again.

On March 10th, Miss Annie Adams (Mrs. Kiskadden) who had recently

returned on a visit to Salt Lake after an absence of three years in

San Francisco, assisted by the stock company, gave a production of

"The Two Orphans," Miss Adams appearing as Louise and Miss Colebrook

as Henriette, the writer in the character of Pierre. This was the

first presentation of this play at this theatre and it proved a great

drawing card.

The next star attraction was one of more than ordinary interest. The

anniversary of Shakespeare's birth (and death) on April 23rd, Adelaide

Neilson, the world acknowledged Juliet, was announced to appear in

that character. Miss Neilson was well-known to our theatregoers by

reputation as the greatest Juliet of the age, and the demand for seats

was extraordinary. The prices were advanced, but not to exorbitant

figures, the prices ranging from 25c to $1.50. Every seat in the house

was filled, and numbers were glad to stand on both evenings rather

than miss seeing the beautiful and popular actress. There was no

dissatisfaction with this engagement; everybody was pleased and

delighted, and Adelaide Neilson's praises were on everybody's lips.

She could have remained a week and played to full houses, but

engagements ahead precluded a longer stay; she only gave two

performances, "As You Like It" being the second bill. There was only

one opinion as to her Juliet, that it was the perfect embodiment of

the character, her rich beauty of face and form, her exquisite grace,

her melodious voice, and the marvelous power of expression in her soft

tender eyes, equipped her completely for the part. As Rosalind she was

equally as charming if not as brilliant as in Juliet. The playing of

Romeo to her Juliet, the writer cherishes as one of the pleasantest

memories of his long professional career. A year later the beautiful

Neilson was dead. Alas! for the mutability of all that is mundane:

"She should have died hereafter;

There would have been a time for such a word.

Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow,

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day

To the last syllable of recorded time.

And all our yesterdays have lighted fools

The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!

Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage

And then is heard no more.

It is a tale told by an idiot;

Full of sound and fury; signifying nothing."

--_Macbeth_.

"The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,

And all that beauty, all that wealth ere gave

Await alike the inevitable hour;

The paths of glory lead but to the grave."

--_Gray's Elegy_.

The next stellar attraction was Ben de Bar. Ben was the manager of one

of the St. Louis theatres when the writer was a boy, and my first

introduction to the stage was at De Bar's theatre. A young fellow who

was our neighbor in St. Louis induced me to go with him and go on as a

super. The play was "Sixtus V., Pope of Rome." Mr. and Mrs. Farren

were the stars. I made my first acquaintance with the stage in that

play, as one of the mob, little dreaming that I would one day be cast

to play Sixtus V., which I was some years afterwards in the Salt Lake

Theatre.

Ben De Bar was a popular comedian as well as manager at the time of

which I am telling, but for some half dozen years now he has been

starring in the character of Sir John Falstaff. He was very stout, and

well suited to the character and confined himself to it exclusively,

varying the monotony, however, by playing both the plays in which Sir

John is so prominent, "Henry IV" and "The Merry Wives of Windsor."

Ben had been to San Francisco and had just played an engagement there,

before coming to Salt Lake. He opened here on May 17th in "The Merry

Wives." He complained of not feeling well and it was quite perceptible

that something was the matter; he was uncertain and forgetful. On the

second night in "Henry IV," his lapses of memory were still more

perceptible. In short, it was palpable to all the company, if not the

audience, that Mr. De Bar was suffering from some derangement of

memory to such an extent as to in places mar the scenes, and very much

embarrass those who had dialogue with him. The writer was playing

Hotspur on the occasion, and had but little to do with the boastful

Sir John, but noticing his lapses of memory in several places and his

consequent and apparent distress, kindly inquired as to his trouble,

when he feelingly told me he had suffered in San Francisco the same

way, and he felt no confidence in himself whatever. He said his memory

was deserting him and he feared his professional career was at an end.

After the play was over he called me into his dressing room, and said:

"Mr. Lindsay, I have made my last appearance on the stage. I am done,

sir. I feel that I have subjected the entire company tonight to a

great deal of embarrassment, and my lapses of memory must have been

quite apparent to the audience. No, sir, I can no longer rely on my

memory, and I shall never attempt to play again. I feel my career is

ended." His words were pathetic, and as it proved, _prophetic_; he

never did appear on the stage again. In less than a year dear old Ben

de Bar died of softening of the brain. Ben de Bar was about sixty

years of age when he died. "What old acquaintance! Could not all this

flesh keep in a little life? Poor Jack, farewell! I could have better

spared a better man." Prince Hal in "Henry IV," Part First.

Salt Lake seemed to be an attractive summer resort for a certain class

of attractions, and quite a number found their way here during the

very hottest of the weather. On July 24th Robert Heller, a very clever

magician and an excellent pianist, assisted by Miss Helen (his

sister), entertained the patrons of the theatre for a week with his

very clever tricks and fine piano playing. His second sight business,

in which he was ably assisted by Miss Helen, was wonderfully clever,

and mystified the beholders very much indeed. He was the first to

introduct a second-sight business here, and was as much of a wonder as

Anna Eva Fay has since been.

On August 6th, Rose Eytinge, then in the zenith of her fame, opened a

three nights' engagement in the play of "Rose Michel" and followed it

with "Miss Multon" and "Macbeth." The writer had some hard work during

this brief engagement, the two first plays being entirely new to him,

in both of which he had very long and arduous parts, and on the third

night he had to do Macbeth. Rose Eytinge at this time was one of the

best actresses and most beautiful women we had on the stage. Good

gracious! that is twenty-eight years ago, and she is still acting! but

she has to play the old woman now. When I played with her two years

later in Portland, Oregon, she was married to an English actor named

Cyril Searle, who insisted on playing Macbeth, but made me study

Antony in "Antony and Cleopatra" on very short notice as the San

Francisco papers had criticised his Antony so severely he declared he

would never play it again.

On August 14th, the Richings-Bernard Opera Company played one night.

Played again on the 16th. On the following night, the 15th, Tony

Pastor with a fine vaudeville company, gave a great show the first

company of that kind to cross the continent and play in the Salt Lake

Theatre. He had a packed house, for his show was a great novelty.

It was a little surprising that with the love of the drama so

universal in Utah so few contributions to dramatic literature were

offered by local authors for representation on the stage. Those

thought worthy of presentation by the managers we have already

recorded. Mr. E. L. Sloan's "Osceola" (an Indian play), in which Julia

Dean and George Waldron played the leading characters, and his "Stage

and Steam," a later production, contrasting the old stage coach with

the locomotive methods and results. By far the most important local

contributions to the stage were the plays of Edward W. Tullidge:

"Eleanor de Vere," played by Julia Dean and stock company, "Ben

Israel" and "Oliver Cromwell," played by the local company. Now comes

John S. Lindsay with "Under One Flag," a drama of the Civil War. This

play was presented for the first time on September 13th and made so

favorable an impression as to hold the boards for three nights. It was

repeated on October 5th, during the conference season, and has been

played by the author and his company in nearly all the towns and

cities of the Northwest. These performances of "Under One Flag"

virtually closed the season of '76 and '77, which had run

intermittently all through the summer.

The Mormons and the Theatre; or, The History of Theatricals in Utah · 第 21 / 25 章