Going back a little in point of time from the close of the preceding

chapter, the final years of the last century found Frohman geared up to

a myriad of activities. He had already assumed the role of Star-Maker,

for Drew and Gillette were on his roster, and Maude Adams was about to

be launched; the Empire Stock Company was an accredited institution with

a national influence; he had started a chain of theaters; his booking

interests in the West had assumed the proportions of an immense

business; he had begun to make his presence felt in London. Yet no event

of these middle 'nineties was more momentous in its relation to the

future of the whole American theater than one which was about to

transpire--one in which Charles Frohman had an important hand.

Despite the efforts made by the booking offices conducted by Charles

Frohman and Klaw & Erlanger, the making of routes for theatrical

attractions in the United States was in a most disorganized and

economically unsound condition. The local manager was still more or less

at the mercy of the booking free-lance in New York. The booking agent

himself only represented a comparatively few theaters and could not book

a complete season for a traveling attraction.

In New York the manager was an autocrat who frequently dictated

unbelievable terms to the traveling companies. Immense losses resulted

from small traveling companies being pitted against one another in

provincial towns that could only support one first-class attraction.

Most theatrical contracts were not worth the paper they were written on.

Charles Frohman had first counted the cost of this theatrical

demoralization when his great "Shenandoah" run at the old Star Theater

had to be interrupted while playing to capacity because another

attraction had been booked into that theater. He and all his

representative colleagues in the business realized that some steps must

be taken to rectify the situation. Piled on this was the general

business depression that had followed the panic of 1893.

One day in 1896 a notable group of theatrical magnates met by chance at

a luncheon at the Holland House in New York. They included Charles

Frohman, whose offices booked attractions for a chain of Western

theaters extending to the coast; A. L. Erlanger and Marc Klaw, who, as

Klaw & Erlanger, controlled attractions for practically the entire

South; Nixon & Zimmerman, of Philadelphia, who were conducting a group

of the leading theaters of that city, and Al Hayman, one of the owners

of the Empire Theater.

These men naturally discussed the chaos in the theatrical business.

They decided that its only economic hope was in a centralization of

booking interests, and they acted immediately on this decision. Within a

few weeks they had organized all the theaters they controlled or

represented into one national chain, and the open time was placed on

file in the offices of Klaw & Erlanger. It now became possible for the

manager of a traveling company to book a consecutive tour at the least

possible expense. In a word, booking suddenly became standardized.

This was the beginning of the famous Theatrical Syndicate which, in a

brief time, dominated the theatrical business of the whole country. It

marked a real epoch in the history of the American theater because

within a year a complete revolution had been effected in the business.

The booking of attractions was emancipated from curb and cafe; a

theatrical contract became an accredited and licensed instrument. The

Syndicate became a clearing-house for the theatrical manager and the

play-producer, and the medium through which they did business with each

other. Charles Frohman contributed his growing chain of theaters to the

organization and secured a one-sixth interest in it which he retained up

to the time of his death.

* * *

Once launched, the Syndicate proceeded to ride the tempest, for the

biggest storm in all American theatrical history soon began to develop.

Out of the long turmoil came a whole new line-up in the business. It

affected Charles Frohman less than any of his immediate associates in

the big combination because, first of all, he was a passive member, and,

second, he had a kingdom all his own. Yet the story of these turbulent

years is so inseparably linked up with the development of the drama in

this country that it is well worth rehearsing.

Although the Syndicate standardized the theatrical contract and made

efficient and economical booking possible, it did not immediately secure

the willing co-operation of some of the best-known traveling stars of

the day. They included Mrs. Fiske, Richard Mansfield, Joseph Jefferson,

Nat C. Goodwin, Francis Wilson (then in comic opera), and James A.

Herne. They were great popular favorites and had been accustomed to

appear at stated intervals in certain theaters in various parts of the

country. They booked their own "time" and had a more or less personal

relation with the lessees and managers of the theaters in which they

appeared.

The Syndicate began to book these stars as it saw fit and as they could

be best fitted into the country-wide scheme. A scale of terms was

arranged that was regarded as equitable both to the attraction and the

local manager.

These stars, however, refused to be booked in this way. They denied the

right of the new organization to say when and where they should play.

Out of this denial came the famous revolt against the Syndicate which

blazed intermittently for more than two decades.

[Illustration: _FRANCIS WILSON_]

[Illustration: _WILLIAM COLLIER_]

Chief among the insurgents was Mrs. Fiske, who had returned to the stage

in "Tess of the D'Urbervilles," a dramatization of Thomas Hardy's great

novel. Her husband and manager, Harrison Gray Fiske, was editor and

publisher of _The Dramatic Mirror_, which became the voice of protest.

Mrs. Fiske refused to appear in Syndicate theaters, and she hired

independent houses all over the country. Such places were few and far

between in those days, and she was forced to play in public halls,

even skating-rinks.

Mansfield became one of the leaders of the opposition to the Syndicate.

He made speeches before the curtain, denouncing its methods. His lead

was followed by Francis Wilson, and subsequently by James K. Hackett,

David Belasco, and Henry W. Savage. The fight on the huge combination

became a matter of nation-wide interest.

All the while the Syndicate was growing in power and authority.

Gradually the revolutionists returned to the fold because desirable

terms were made for them. Only Mrs. Fiske remained outside the ranks. In

order to secure a New York City stage for her Mr. Fiske leased the

Manhattan Theater for a long term.

It was during these strenuous years, and as one indirect result of the

Syndicate fight, that a whole new theatrical dynasty sprang up. It took

shape and centered in the growing importance of three then obscure

brothers, Lee, Sam, and Jacob J. Shubert by name, who lived in Syracuse,

New York. They were born in humble circumstances, and early in life had

been forced to become breadwinners. The first to get into the theatrical

business was Sam, the second son, who, as a youngster barely in his

teens, became program boy and later on assistant in the box-office of

the Grand Opera House in his native town. At seventeen he was treasurer

of the Weiting Opera House there, and from that time until his death in

a railroad accident in 1905 he was an increasingly powerful figure in

the business.

Before Sam Shubert was twenty he controlled a chain of theaters with

stock companies in up-state New York cities and had taken his two

brothers into partnership with him. In 1900 he subleased the Herald

Square Theater in New York City and thus laid the corner-stone of what

came to be known as the "Independent Movement" throughout the country.

He had initiative and enterprise. Gradually he and his brothers and

their associates controlled a line of theaters from coast to coast. In

these theaters they offered attractive bookings to the managers who were

outside the Syndicate. The Shuberts also became producers and

encouragers of productions on a large scale.

For the first time the Syndicate now had real opposition. A warfare

developed that was almost as bitter and costly in its way as was the old

disorganized method in vogue before the business was put on a commercial

basis. It naturally led to over-production and to a surplus of theaters.

Towns that in reality could only support one first-class playhouse were

compelled to have a "regular" and an "independent" theater. Attractions

of a similar nature, such as two musical comedies, were pitted against

each other. In dividing the local patronage both sides suffered loss.

During the last year of Charles Frohman's life the Syndicate and the

Shuberts, wisely realizing that such an uneconomic procedure could only

spell disaster in a large way for the whole theatrical business, buried

their differences. A harmonious working agreement was entered into that

put an end to the destructive strife. Theatrical booking became an open

field, and the producer can now play his attractions in both Syndicate

and Shubert theaters.

* * *

Charles Frohman's activities were now nation-wide. Just as Harriman

built up a transcontinental railroad system, so did the rotund little

manager now set up an empire all his own. The building of the Empire

Theater had given him a closer link with Rich and Harris. Through them

he acquired an interest in the Columbia Theater, in Boston, and

subsequently he became part owner of the Hollis Street Theater in that

city. His third theater in Boston was the Park. By this time the firm

name for Boston operation was Rich, Harris, and Charles Frohman. Their

next venture was the construction of the magnificent Colonial Theater,

on the site of the old Boston Public Library, which was opened with

"Ben-Hur." With the acquisition of the Boston and Tremont playhouses,

the firm controlled the situation at Boston.

Up to this time Frohman had controlled only one theater in New York--the

Empire. In 1896 he saw an opportunity to acquire control of the Garrick

in Thirty-fifth Street. He wrote to William Harris, saying, "I will take

it if you will come on and run it." Harris assented, and the Garrick

passed under the banner of Charles Frohman, who inaugurated his regime

with John Drew in "The Squire of Dames." He put some of his biggest

successes into this theater and some of his favorite stars, among them

Maude Adams and William Gillette. To the chain of Charles Frohman

controlled theaters in New York were added in quick order the Criterion,

the Savoy, the Garden, and a part interest in the Knickerbocker.

During his early tenancy of the Garrick occurred an incident which

showed Frohman's resource. He produced a play called "The Liars," by

Henry Arthur Jones, in which he was very much interested. In the

out-of-town try-out up-state Frohman heard that the critic of one of the

most important New York newspapers had expressed great disapproval of

the piece on account of some personal prejudice. He did not want this

prejudice to interfere with the New York verdict, so he went to Charles

Dillingham one day shortly before the opening and said:

"Can you get me some loud laughers?"

Dillingham said he could.

"All right," said Frohman; "I want you to plant one on either side of

Mr. Blank," referring to the critic who had a prejudice against the

play.

This was done, and on the opening night the "prop" laughers made such a

noisy demonstration that the critic said it was the funniest farce in

years.

* * *

Charles Frohman's first foreign star, who paved the way for so many, was

Olga Nethersole. His management of her came about in a curious way. A

difference had arisen between Augustin Daly and Ada Rehan, his leading

woman. Miss Rehan had decided to withdraw from the company, and in

casting about quickly for a successor had decided upon Olga Nethersole,

then one of the most prominent of the younger English actresses. While

the deal was being consummated Daly and Miss Rehan adjusted their

differences, and the arrangements for Miss Nethersole's appearance in

America were abrogated.

Miss Nethersole was left without an American manager. Daniel Frohman,

then manager of the Lyceum Theater, stepped in and became her American

sponsor, forming a partnership with his brother Charles to handle her

interests. Jointly they now conducted an elaborate tour for her covering

two years, in which she appeared in "Denise," "Frou-Frou," "Camille,"

and "Carmen."

[Illustration: _MARGARET ANGLIN_]

[Illustration: _ANNIE RUSSELL_]

The sensational episode of her tour was the production of "Carmen." The

fiery, impetuous, emotional, and sensuous character of the Spanish

heroine appealed to Miss Nethersole's vivid imagination, and she gave a

realistic portrayal of the role that became popular and spectacular. In

all parts of the country the "Carmen Kiss" became a byword. The play, in

addition to its own merits as a striking drama, and its vogue at the

opera through Madame Calve's performance of the leading role, became a

very successful vehicle for Miss Nethersole's two tours. Miss Nethersole

was the first star outside of Charles Frohman's own force who appeared

at the Empire Theater, where she played a brief engagement with

"Camille" and "Carmen."

* * *

From his earliest theatrical day Charles believed implicitly in

melodrama. His first production on any stage was a thriller. The play

that turned the tide in his fortunes was a spine-stirrer. He now turned

to his favorite form of play by producing "The Fatal Card," by Haddon

Chambers and B. C. Stephenson, at Palmer's Theater. He did it with an

admirable cast that included May Robson, Agnes Miller, Amy Busby, E. J.

Ratcliffe, William H. Thompson, J. H. Stoddart, and W. J. Ferguson.

A big melodrama now became part of his regular season. He leased the old

Academy of Music at Fourteenth Street and Irving Place in New York,

where, as a boy, he had seen his brother Gustave sell opera librettos,

and where he became fired with the ambition to make money. Here he

produced a notable series of melodramas in lavish fashion. The first was

"The Sporting Duchess." This piece, which was produced in England as

"The Derby Winner," was a sure-enough thriller. The cast included E. J.

Ratcliffe, Francis Carlyle, J. H. Stoddart, Alice Fischer, Cora Tanner,

Agnes Booth, and Jessie Busley.

Charles Frohman's next melodrama at the Academy was the famous "Two

Little Vagrants," adapted from the French by Charles Klein. In this cast

he brought forward a notable group destined to shine in the drama, for

among them were Dore Davidson, Minnie Dupree, Annie Irish, George

Fawcett, and William Farnum, the last named then just beginning to

strike his theatrical stride.

Still another famous melodrama that Charles introduced to the United

States at the famous old playhouse was "The White Heather," in which he

featured Rose Coghlan, and in which Amelia Bingham made one of her first

successes. With this piece Charles emphasized one of the customs he

helped to bring to the American stage. He always paid for the actresses'

clothes. He told Miss Coghlan to spare no expense on her gowns, and she

spent several thousand dollars on them. When she saw Frohman after the

opening, which was a huge success, she said:

"I am almost ashamed to see you."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because I spent so much money on my gowns."

"Nonsense!" said Frohman. "You did very wisely. You and the gowns are

the hit of the piece."

Frohman here established a new tradition for the production of melodrama

in the United States. Up to his era the producer depended upon thrill

rather than upon accessory. Frohman lavished a fortune on each

production. Any competition with him had to be on the same elaborate

scale.

Fully a year before Maude Adams made her stellar debut Frohman put forth

his first woman star in Annie Russell. This gifted young Englishwoman,

who had appeared on the stage at the age of seven in "Pinafore," had

made a great success in "Esmeralda," at the Madison Square Theater.

Frohman, who was then beginning his managerial career, was immediately

taken with her talent. She appeared in some of his earlier companies. He

now starred her in a play by Bret Harte called "Sue." He presented her

both in New York and in London.

Under Frohman, Miss Russell had a long series of starring successes.

When she appeared in "Catherine," at the Garrick Theater, in her support

was Ethel Barrymore, who was just beginning to emerge from the obscurity

of playing "bits." In succession Miss Russell did "Miss Hobbs," "The

Royal Family," "The Girl and the Judge," "Jinny the Carrier," and "Mice

and Men."

In connection with "Mice and Men" is a characteristic Frohman story.

Charles ordered this play written from Madeleine Lucette Ryley for Maude

Adams. When he read the manuscript he sent it back to Miss Ryley with

the laconic comment, "Worse yet." She showed it to Gertrude Elliott, who

bought it for England. When Charles heard of this he immediately

accepted the play, and it proved to be a success. The moment a play was

in demand it became valuable to him.

Spectacular success seemed to have taken up its abode with Charles. It

now found expression in the production of "Secret Service," the most

picturesque and profitable of all the Gillette enterprises. The way it

came to be written is a most interesting story.

Frohman was about to sail for Europe when Gillette sent him the first

act of this stirring military play. Frohman read it at once, sent for

the author and said:

"This is great, Gillette. Let me see the second act."

Gillette produced this act forthwith, and Frohman's enthusiasm increased

to such an extent that he postponed his sailing until he received the

complete play. Frohman's interest in "Secret Service" was heightened by

the fact that he had scored two tremendous triumphs with military plays,

"Held by the Enemy" and "Shenandoah." He felt that the talisman of the

brass button was still his, and he plunged heavily on "Secret Service."

It was first put on in Philadelphia. Even at that time there obtained

the superstition widely felt in the theatrical business that what fails

out of town must succeed in New York. Frohman, who shared this

superstition, was really eager not to register successfully in the

Quaker capital.

But "Secret Service" smashed this superstition, because it scored

heavily in Philadelphia and then had an enormous run at the Garrick

Theater in New York. In "Secret Service" Maurice Barrymore had the

leading part, and he played it with a distinction of bearing and a dash

of manner that were almost irresistible.

William Gillette always proved to be one of Charles Frohman's mascots.

Practically whatever he touched turned to gold. He and Frohman had now

become close friends, and the actor-author frequently accompanied the

manager on his trips to London.

During their visit in 1899, "Sherlock Holmes" had become the literary

rage. Everybody was talking about the masterful detective of Baker

Street.

"We must get those Doyle stories," said Frohman to Gillette.

"All right," said the author.

Frohman personally went to see Conan Doyle and made a bid for the

rights.

"Certainly, Mr. Frohman," replied Doyle, "but I shall make one

stipulation. There must be no love business in 'Sherlock Holmes.'"

"All right," said Frohman; "your wishes shall be respected."

Frohman now engaged Gillette to make the adaptation, but he said

absolutely nothing about the condition that Doyle had made. Gillette, as

most American theater-goers know, wove a love interest into the

strenuous life of the famous detective.

A year later, Gillette and Frohman again were in England, Gillette to

read the manuscript of the play to Doyle. The famous author liked the

play immensely and made no objection whatever to the sentimental

interest. In fact, his only comment when Gillette finished reading the

manuscript was:

"It's good to see the old chap again."

He referred, of course, to _Sherlock Holmes_, who, up to this time, had

already met his death on four or five occasions.

"Sherlock Holmes" proved to be another "Secret Service" in every way.

Gillette made an enormous success in the title role, and after a long

run at the Garrick went on the road. Frohman revived it again and again

until it had almost as many "farewells" as Adelina Patti. The last

business detail that Charles discussed with Gillette before sailing on

the fatal trip in 1915 was for a revival of this play at the Empire.

The Frohman Star Factory was now working full time. Next in output came

William Faversham. This brilliant young Englishman had started with

Daniel Frohman's company at the Lyceum in a small part. At a rehearsal

of "The Highest Bidder" Charles singled him out.

"Where did you get your cockney dialect?" he asked.

"Riding on the top of London 'buses," was the reply.

"Well," answered Charles, "I want to do that myself some day."

This was the first contact between two men who became intimate friends

and who were closely bound up in each other's fortunes.

During his Lyceum engagement Faversham wanted to widen his activities.

He read in the papers one day that Charles was producing a number of

plays, so he made up his mind he would try to get into one of them. He

went to Frohman's office every morning at half-past nine and asked to

see him or Al Hayman. Sometimes he would arrive before Frohman, and the

manager had to pass him as he went into his office. He invariably looked

up, smiled at the waiting actor, and passed on. Faversham kept this up

for weeks. One day Alf Hayman asked him what he wanted there.

"I am tired of hanging round the Lyceum with nothing to do. I want a

better engagement," was the answer.

Hayman evidently communicated this to Frohman and Al Hayman, but they

made no change in their attitude. Every day they passed the waiting

Faversham as they arrived in the morning and went out to lunch, and

always Frohman smiled at him.

[Illustration: _WILLIAM FAVERSHAM_]

Finally one morning Charles came to the door, looked intently at

Faversham, puffed out his cheeks as was his fashion, and smiled all

over his face. Turning to Al Hayman, who was with him, he said:

"Al, we've got to give this fellow something to do or we won't be able

to go in and out of here much longer."

In a few moments Frohman emerged again, asked Faversham how tall he was.

When he was told, he invited Faversham into his office and inquired of

him if he could study a long part and play it in two days. Faversham

said he could. The result was his engagement for Rider Haggard's "She."

Such was the unusual beginning of the long and close association between

Faversham and Charles Frohman.

Faversham became leading man of the Empire Stock Company, and his

distinguished career was a matter of the greatest pride to Charles. He

now was caught up in the Frohman star machine and made his first

appearance under the banner of "Charles Frohman Presents," in "A Royal

Rival," at the Criterion in August, 1901.

Charles not only made Faversham a star, but provided him with a wife,

and a very charming one, too. In the spring of 1901 an exquisite young

girl, Julie Opp by name, was playing at the St. James Theater in London.

Frohman sent for her and asked her if she could go to the United States

to act as leading woman for William Faversham.

"I have been to America once," she said, "and I want to go back as a

star."

When Frohman let loose the powers of his persuasiveness, Miss Opp began

to waver.

"I don't want to leave my nice London flat and my English maid," she

protested.

"Take the maid with you," said Frohman. "We can't box the flat and take

that to New York, but we have flats in New York that you can hire."

"I hate to leave all my friends," continued Miss Opp.

"Well, I can't take over all your friends," replied Frohman, "but you

will have plenty of new admirers in New York."

Miss Opp asked what she thought were unreasonable terms. Frohman said

nothing, but sent Charles Dillingham to see her next day. He said

Frohman wanted to know if she was joking about her price. "Of course,"

he said, "if you are not joking he will pay it anyhow, because when he

makes up his mind to have anybody he is going to have him."

This shamed Miss Opp. She asked a reasonable fee, went to the United

States, and not only became Faversham's leading woman, but his wife.

Frohman always took infinite delight in teasing the Favershams about

having been their matchmaker.

* * *

Charles Frohman: Manager and Man · 第 12 / 27 段