"Simply this," said Barrie. "You know I have an agreement to deliver you
the manuscript of a play?"
"Yes," said Frohman.
"Well, I have it, all right," said Barrie, "but I am sure it will not be
a commercial success. But it is a dream-child of mine, and I am so
anxious to see it on the stage that I have written another play which I
will be glad to give you and which will compensate you for any loss on
the one I am so eager to see produced."
"Don't bother about that," said Frohman. "I will produce both plays."
Now the extraordinary thing about this episode is that the play about
whose success Barrie was so doubtful was "Peter Pan," which made several
fortunes. The manuscript he offered Frohman to indemnify him from loss
was "Alice-Sit-By-The-Fire," which lasted only a season. Such is the
estimate that the author often puts on his own work!
When Frohman first read "Peter Pan" he was so entranced that he could
not resist telling all his friends about it. He would stop them in the
street and act out the scenes. Yet it required the most stupendous
courage and confidence to put on a play that, from the manuscript,
sounded like a combination of circus and extravaganza; a play in which
children flew in and out of rooms, crocodiles swallowed alarm-clocks, a
man exchanged places with his dog in its kennel, and various other
seemingly absurd and ridiculous things happened.
But Charles believed in Barrie. He had gone to an extraordinary expense
to produce "Peter Pan" in England. He duplicated it in the United
States. No other character in all her repertory made such a swift appeal
to Miss Adams as _Peter Pan_. She saw in him the idealization of
everything that was wonderful and wistful in childhood.
The way she prepared for the part was characteristic of her attitude
toward her work. She took the manuscript with her up to the Catskills.
She isolated herself for a month; she walked, rode, communed with
nature, but all the while she was studying and absorbing the character
which was to mean so much to her career. In the great friendly open
spaces in which little _Peter_ himself delighted, and where he was king,
she found her inspiration for interpretation of the wondrous boy.
The try-out was made in Washington at the old National Theater. It went
with considerable success, although the first-night audience was
somewhat mystified and did not know exactly what to say or do.
It was when the play was launched on November 6, 1905, at the Empire
Theater in New York, that little _Peter_ really came into his own. The
human birds, the droll humor, the daring allegory, above all the
appealing, almost tragic, spectacle of _Peter_ playing his pipe up in
the tree-tops of the Never-Never Land, all contributed to an event that
was memorable in more ways than one.
On this night developed the remarkable and thrilling feature in "Peter
Pan" which made the adorable dream-child the best beloved of all
American children. It came when _Peter_ rushed forward to the footlights
in the frantic attempt to save the life of his devoted little _Tinker
Bell_, and asked:
"Do you believe in fairies?"
It registered a whole new and intimate relation between actress and
audience, and had the play possessed no other distinctive feature, this
alone would have at once lifted it to a success that was all its own.
[Illustration: _MAUDE ADAMS_]
This episode became one of the many marvelous features of the memorable
run of "Peter Pan" at the Empire. Nearly every child in New York--and
subsequently, on the long and successful tours that Miss Adams made in
"Peter Pan," their brothers everywhere--became acquainted with the
episode and longed impatiently to have a part in it. On one occasion,
fully fifteen minutes before Miss Adams made her appeal, a little child
rose in a box at the Empire and said: "_I_ believe in fairies."
"Peter Pan" recorded the longest single engagement in the history of the
Empire. It ran from November 6, 1905, until June 9, 1906.
But "Peter Pan" did more than give Miss Adams her most popular part. It
became a nation-wide vogue. Children were named after the fascinating
little lad Who Never Would Grow Up; articles of wearing-apparel were
labeled with his now familiar title; the whole country talked and loved
the unforgettable little character who now became not merely a stage
figure, but a real personal friend of the American theater-going people.
It was on a road tour of "Peter Pan" that occurred one of those rare
anecdotes in which Miss Adams figures. Frohman always had a curious
prejudice against the playing of matinees by his stars, especially Maude
Adams. A matinee was booked at Altoona, Pennsylvania. Frohman
immediately had it marked off his contract. The advance-agent of the
company, however, ordered the matinee played at the urgent request of
the local manager, but he did not notify the office in New York. When
Charles got the telegram announcing the receipts, he was most indignant.
"I'll discharge the person responsible for this matinee," he said.
In answer to his telegraphed inquiry he received the following wire:
_The matinee was played at my request. I preferred to work rather
than spend the whole day in a bad hotel._
MAUDE ADAMS.
In connection with "Peter Pan" is a curious and tragic coincidence. Of
all the Barrie plays that Charles produced he loved "Peter Pan" the
best. Curiously enough, it was little _Peter_ himself who gave him the
cue for his now historic farewell as he stood on the sinking deck of the
_Lusitania_.
At the end of one of the acts in "Peter Pan" the little boy says:
_To die will be an awfully big adventure._
These words had always made a deep impression on Frohman. They came to
his mind as he stood on that fateful deck and said:
_Why fear death? It is the most beautiful adventure in life._
Having made such an enormous success with "Peter Pan," Miss Adams now
turned to her third boy's part. It was that of "Chicot, the Jester,"
John Raphael's adaptation of Miguel Zamaceis's play "The Jesters." This
was a very delightful sort of Prince Charming play, fragile and
artistic. The opposite part was played by Consuelo Bailey. It was a
great triumph for Miss Adams, but not a very great financial success.
Now came the first of her open-air performances. During the season of
"The Jesters" she appeared at Yale and Harvard as _Viola_ in "Twelfth
Night." She gave a charming and graceful performance of the role.
* * *
But Maude Adams could not linger long from the lure that was Barrie's.
After what amounted to the failure of "The Jesters" she turned to her
fourth Barrie play, which proved to be a triumph.
For over a year Barrie had been at work on a play for her. It came forth
in his whimsical satire, "What Every Woman Knows." Afterward, in
speaking of this play, he said that he had written it because "there was
a Maude Adams in the world." Then he added, "I could see her dancing
through every page of my manuscript."
Indeed, "What Every Woman Knows" was really written around Miss Adams.
It was a dramatization of the roguish humor and exquisite womanliness
that are her peculiar gifts.
As _Maggie Wylie_ she created a character that was a worthy colleague of
_Lady Babbie_. Here she had opportunity for her wide range of gifts. The
role opposite her, that of _John Shand_, the poor Scotch boy who
literally stole knowledge, was extraordinarily interesting. As most
people may recall, the play involves the marriage between _Maggie_ and
_John_, according to an agreement entered into between the girl's
brothers and the boy. The brothers agree to educate him, and in return
he weds the sister. _Maggie_ becomes _John's_ inspiration, although he
refuses to realize or admit it. He is absolutely without humor. He
thinks he can do without her, only to find when it is almost too late
that she has been the very prop of his success.
At the end of this play _Maggie_ finally makes her husband laugh when
she tells him:
_I tell you what every woman knows: that Eve wasn't made from the
rib of Adam, but from his funny-bone._
This speech had a wide vogue and was quoted everywhere.
Curiously enough, in "What Every Woman Knows" Miss Adams has a speech in
which she unconsciously defines the one peculiar and elusive gift which
gives her such rare distinction. In the play she is supposed to be the
girl "who has no charm." In reality she is all charm. But in discussing
this quality with her brothers she makes this statement:
_Charm is the bloom upon a woman. If you have it you don't have to
have anything else. If you haven't it, all else won't do you any
good._
"What Every Woman Knows" was an enormous success, in which Richard
Bennett, who played _John Shand_, shared honors with the star. Miss
Adams's achievement in this play emphasized the rare affinity between
her and Barrie's delightful art. They formed a unique and lovable
combination, irresistible in its appeal to the public. Commenting on
this, Barrie himself has said:
_Miss Adams knows my characters and understands them. She really
needs no directions. I love to write for her and see her in my
work._
Nor could there be any more delightful comment on Miss Adams's
appreciation of all that Barrie has meant to her than to quote a remark
she made not so very long ago when she said:
_Wherever I act, I always feel that there is one unseen spectator,
James M. Barrie._
Maude Adams was now in what most people, both in and out of the
theatrical profession, would think the very zenith of her career. She
was the best beloved of American actresses, the idol of the American
child. She was without doubt the best box-office attraction in the
country. Yet she had made her way to this eminence by an industry and a
concentration that were well-nigh incredible.
People began to say, "What marvelous things Charles Frohman has done for
Miss Adams."
As a matter of fact, the career of Miss Adams emphasizes what a very
great author once said, which, summed up, was that neither nature nor
man did anything for any human being that he could not do for himself.
Miss Adams paid the penalty of her enormous success by an almost
complete isolation. She concentrated on her work--all else was
subsidiary.
Charles Frohman had an enormous ambition for Miss Adams, and that
ambition now took form in what was perhaps his most remarkable effort in
connection with her. It was the production of "Joan of Arc" at the
Harvard Stadium. It started in this way:
John D. Williams, for many years business manager for Charles Frohman,
is a Harvard alumnus. Realizing that the business with which he was
associated had been labeled with the "commercial" brand, he had an
ambition to associate it with something which would be considered
genuinely esthetic. The pageant idea had suddenly come into vogue. "Why
not give a magnificent pageant?" he said to himself.
One morning he went into Charles Frohman's office and put the idea to
him, adding that he thought Miss Adams as _Joan of Arc_ would provide
the proper medium for such a spectacle. Frohman was about to go to
Europe. With a quick wave of the hand and a swift "All right," he
assented to what became one of the most distinguished events in the
history of the American stage.
Schiller's great poem, "The Maid of Orleans," was selected. In
suggesting the battle heroine of France, Williams touched upon one of
Maude Adams's great admirations. For years she had studied the character
of Joan. To her Joan was the very idealization of all womanhood.
Bernhardt, Davenport, and others had tried to dramatize this most
appealing of all tragedies in the history of France, and had practically
failed. It remained for slight, almost fragile, Maude Adams to vivify
and give the character an enduring interpretation.
"Joan of Arc," as the pageant was called, was projected on a stupendous
scale. Fifteen hundred supernumeraries were employed. John W. Alexander,
the famous artist, was employed to design the costumes. A special
electric-lighting plant was installed in the stadium.
Miss Adams concentrated herself upon the preparations with a fidelity
and energy that were little short of amazing. One detail will
illustrate. As most people know, Miss Adams had to appear mounted
several times during the play and ride at the head of her charging army.
This equestrianism gave Charles Frohman the greatest solicitude. He
feared that she would be injured in some way, and he kept cabling
warnings to her, and to her associates who were responsible for her
safety, to be careful.
Miss Adams, however, determined to be a good horsewoman, and for more
than a month she practised every afternoon in a riding-academy in New
York. Since the horse had to carry the trappings of clanging armor, amid
all the tumult of battle, she rehearsed every day with all sorts of
noisy apparatus hanging about him. Shots were fired, colored banners and
flags were flaunted about her, and pieces of metal were fastened to her
riding-skirt so that the steed would be accustomed to the constant
contact of a sword.
Although the preparations for her own part were most exacting and
onerous, Miss Adams exercised a supervising direction over the whole
production, which was done in the most lavish fashion. She had every
resource of the Charles Frohman organization at her command, and it was
employed to the very last detail.
"Joan of Arc" was presented on the evening of June 22, 1909, in the
presence of over fifteen thousand people. It was a magnificent success,
and proved to be unquestionably the greatest theatrical pageant ever
staged in this country. The elaborate settings were handled
mechanically. Forests dissolved into regal courts; fields melted into
castles. A hidden orchestra played the superb music of Beethoven's
"Eroica," which accentuated the noble poetry of Schiller.
The first scene showed the maid of Domremy wandering in the twilight
with her vision; the last revealed her dying of her wounds at the
spring, soon to be buried under the shields of her captains.
The battle scene was an inspiring feature. It had been arranged that
Miss Adams's riding-master should change places with her at the head of
the charging troops and ride in their magnificent sweep down the field.
It was feared that some mishap might befall her. When the charge was
over and the stage-manager rushed up to congratulate the supposed
riding-master on his admirable make-up, he was surprised to hear Miss
Adams's voice issue forth from the armor, saying, "How did it go?"
Strapped to her horse, she had led the charge herself and had seen the
performance through.
"Joan of Arc" netted $15,000, which Charles Frohman turned over to
Harvard University to do with as it pleased. There was unconscious irony
in this, for the performance aroused great admiration in Germany, and
the proceeds were devoted to the Germanic Museum in the university; in
the end, the Germans were responsible for his death.
Accentuating this irony was the fact that Charles Frohman had made a
magnificent vellum album containing the complete photographic record of
the play, and sent it to the German Kaiser with the following
inscription:
_To His Majesty the German Emperor. This photographic record of the
first English performance in America of Friedrich von Schiller's
dramatic poem, "Jungfrau von Orleans," given for the Building Fund
of the Germanic Museum of Harvard University under the auspices of
the German Department in the Stadium, Tuesday, twenty-second of
June, 1909, is respectfully presented by Charles Frohman._
There is no doubt that "Joan of Arc" was the supreme effort of Miss
Adams's career. She was the living, breathing incarnation of the Maid.
When she was told that Charles Frohman had refused an offer of $50,000
for the motion-picture rights, she said:
_Of course it was refused. This performance is all poetry and
solemnity._
The following June, in the Greek Theater of the University of
California, at Berkeley, Miss Adams made her first and only appearance
as _Rosalind_ in "As You Like It." Ten thousand people saw the
performance. Her achievement illustrates the extraordinary and
indefatigable quality of her work. She rehearsed "As You Like It" during
her transcontinental tour of "What Every Woman Knows," which extended
from sea to sea and lasted thirty-nine weeks.
* * *
Most managers would have been content to rest with the laurel that such
a performance as "Joan of Arc" had won. Not so with Charles Frohman.
Every stupendous feat that he achieved merely whetted his desire for
something greater. He delighted in sensation. Now he came to the point
in his life where he projected what was in many respects the most unique
and original of all his efforts, the presentation of Rostand's classic,
"Chantecler."
It was on March 30, 1910, that Charles crossed over from London to Paris
to see this play. It thrilled and stirred him, and he bought it
immediately. He realized that it would either be a tremendous success or
a colossal failure, and he was willing to stand or fall by it. In Paris
the title role, originally written for the great Coquelin, had been
played by Guitry. It was essentially a man's part. But Frohman, with
that sense of the spectacular which so often characterized him,
immediately cast Miss Adams for it.
When he announced that the elf-like girl--the living _Peter Pan_ to
millions of theater-goers--was to assume the feathers and strut of the
barnyard Romeo, there was a widespread feeling that he was making a
great mistake, and that he was putting Miss Adams into a role, admirable
artist that she was, to which she was absolutely unsuited. A storm of
criticism arose. But Frohman was absolutely firm. Opposition only made
him hold his ground all the stronger. When people asked him why he
insisted upon casting Miss Adams for this almost impossible part he
always said:
_"Chantecler" is a play with a soul, and the soul of a play is its
moral. This is the secret of "Peter Pan"; this is why Miss Adams is
to play the leading part._
Miss Adams was in Chicago when Frohman bought the play, and he cabled
her that she was to do the title part. She afterward declared that this
news changed the dull, dreary, soggy day into one that was brilliant and
dazzling. "To play _Chantecler_," she said, "is an honor international
in its glory."
The preparations for "Chantecler" were carried on with the usual Frohman
magnificence. A fortune was spent on it. The costumes were made in
Paris; John W. Alexander supervised the scenic effects.
The casting of the parts was in itself an enormous task. Frohman amused
himself by having what he called "casting parties." For example, he
would call up Miss Adams by long-distance telephone and say:
_I've got ten minutes before my train starts for Atlantic City. Can
you cast a peacock for me?_
Whereupon Miss Adams would say:
_Ten minutes is too short._
Never, perhaps, in the history of the American stage was the advent of a
play so long heralded. The name "Chantecler" was on every tongue. Long
before the piece was launched hats had been named after it,
controversies had arisen over its Anglicized spelling and pronunciation.
All the genius of publicity which was the peculiar heritage of Charles
Frohman was turned loose to pave the way for this extraordinary
production. It was a nation-wide sensation.
For the first time in his life Charles had to postpone an opening. It
was originally set for the 13th of January, 1911, but the first night
did not come until the 23d. This added to the suspense and expectancy of
the public.
The demand for seats was unprecedented. A line began to form at four
o'clock in the afternoon preceding the day the sale opened. Within
twenty-four hours after the window was raised at the box-office as high
as $200 was offered in vain for a seat on the opening night.
The Empire stage was too small, so the play was produced at the
Knickerbocker Theater. A brilliant and highly wrought-up audience was
present. Extraordinary interest centered about Miss Adams's performance
as _Chantecler_. "Will she be able to do it?" was the question on every
tongue. On that memorable opening-night Frohman, as usual, sat in the
back seat in the gallery and had the supreme satisfaction of seeing his
star distinguish herself in a performance that in many respects revealed
Miss Adams as she had never been revealed before. She was recalled
twenty-two times.
_Chantecler_ literally crowed and conquered!
Just how much "Chantecler" meant to Charles Frohman is attested by a
remark he made soon after its inaugural. A friend was discussing
epitaphs with him.
"What would you like to have written about you, C. F.?" asked the man.
The brilliant smile left Frohman's face for a moment, and then he said,
solemnly:
"All that I would ask is this: 'He gave "Peter Pan" to the world and
"Chantecler" to America.' It is enough for any man."
The last original production that Charles Frohman made with Maude Adams
was "The Legend of Leonora," in which she returned once more to Barrie's
exquisite and fanciful satire, devoted this time to the woman question.
In England it had been produced under the title of "The Adored One."
It was in the part of _Leonora_ that James M. Barrie saw Maude Adams act
for the first time in one of his plays. He had come to America for a
brief visit to Frohman, and during this period Miss Adams was having her
annual engagement at the Empire Theater.
Of course, Barrie had Miss Adams in mind for the American production,
and it is a very interesting commentary on his admiration for the
American star that about the only instructions he attached to the
manuscript of the play was this:
_Leonora is an unspeakable darling, and this is all the guidance
that can be given to the lady playing her._
On her last starring tour under the personal direction of Charles
Frohman, Miss Adams combined with a revival of "Quality Street" a clever
skit by Barrie called "The Ladies' Shakespeare," the subtitle being,
"One Woman's Reading of 'The Taming of the Shrew.'" With an occasional
appearance in Barrie's "Rosalind," it rounded out her stellar career
under him.
Charles Frohman lived to see Maude Adams realize his highest desire for
her success. She justified his confidence and it gave him infinite
satisfaction.
Miss Adams's career as a star unfolds a panorama of artistic and
practical achievement unequaled in the life of any American star. It
likewise reveals a paradox all its own. While millions of people have
seen and admired her, only a handful of people know her. The aloofness
of the woman in her personal attitude toward the public represents
Charles Frohman's own ideal of what stage artistry and conduct should
be.
It is illustrated in what was perhaps the keenest epigram he ever made.
He was talking about people of the stage who constantly air themselves
and their views to secure personal publicity. It moved him to this
remark:
"Some people prefer mediocrity in the lime-light to greatness in the
dark."
Herein he summed up the reason why Miss Adams has been an elusive and
almost mysterious figure. By tremendous reading, solitary thinking, and
extraordinary personal application she rose to her great eminence. With
her it has always been a creed of career first. Like Charles Frohman,
she has hidden behind her activities, and they form a worthy rampart.
The history of the stage records no more interesting parallel than the
one afforded by these two people--each a recluse, yet each known to the
multitudes.
IX
THE BIRTH OF THE SYNDICATE
Charles Frohman's talents and energies were very much like those of E.
H. Harriman in that they found their largest and best expression when
dedicated to a multitude of enterprises. Like Harriman, too, he did
things in a wholesale way, for he had a contempt for small sums and
small ventures.