transactions. Some years afterward a well-known English playwright asked
Stephen Gatti:
"What is your contract with Frohman?"
"We have none. When we want an agreement from Charles Frohman about a
business transaction it is time to stop," was his reply.
With the production of a French farce called "A Night Out," which was
done at the Vaudeville Theater in 1896, Frohman began his long and
intimate association with George Edwardes. This man's name was
synonymous with musical comedy throughout the amusement world. As
managing director of the London Gaiety Theater, the most famous musical
theater anywhere, he occupied a unique position. Charles was the
principal American importer of the Gaiety shows, and through this and
various other connections he had much to do with Edwardes.
Frohman and Edwardes were the joint producers of "A Night Out," and it
brought to Charles his first taste of London success. This was the only
play in London in which he ever sold his interest. Out of this sale grew
a curious example of Frohman's disregard of money. For his share he
received a check of four figures. He carried it around in his pocket for
weeks. After it had become all crumpled up, Lestocq persuaded him to
deposit it in the bank. Only when the check was almost reduced to shreds
did he consent to open an account with it.
* * *
It remained for an American play, presenting an American star, to give
Charles his first real triumph in London. With the production of "Secret
Service," in 1897, at the Adelphi Theater, he became the real envoy from
the New World of plays to the Old. It was an ambassadorship that gave
him an infinite pride, for it brought fame and fortune to the American
playwright and the American actor abroad. Frohman's envoyship was as
advantageous to England as it was to the United States, because he was
the instrument through which the best of the modern English plays and
the most brilliant of the modern English actors found their hearing on
this side of the water.
Frohman was immensely interested in the English production of "Secret
Service." Gillette himself headed the company. Both he and Frohman were
in a great state of expectancy. The play hung fire until the third act.
When the big scene came British reserve melted and there was a great
ovation. It was an immediate success and had a long run.
One feature of the play that amused the critics and theater-goers
generally in London was the fact that the spy in "Secret Service," who
was supposed to be the bad man of the play, received all the sympathy
and the applause, while the hero was arrested and always had the worst
of it, even when he was denouncing the spy. Gillette's quiet but
forceful style of acting was a revelation to the Londoners.
It was during this engagement that an intimate friend said to Terriss,
the great English actor who was distinguished for his impulsiveness:
"Chain yourself to a seat at the Adelphi some night and learn artistic
repose from Gillette."
Concerning the first night of "Secret Service" is another one of the
many Frohman stories. When a London newspaper man asked the American
manager about the magnificent celebration that he was sure had been held
to commemorate Gillette's triumph, Frohman said:
"There was nothing of the sort. Mr. Dillingham, my manager, and I joined
Mr. Gillette in his rooms at the Savoy. We had some sandwiches and wine
and then played 'hearts' for several hours."
This episode inspired Frohman to give utterance to what was the very
key-note of his philosophy about an actor and his work. Talking with a
friend in England shortly after the opening of "Secret Service," about
the modest way in which Gillette regarded his success, he said:
"Nothing so kills the healthy growth of an actor and brings his
usefulness to an end so soon, as the idea that social enjoyment is a
means to public success, and that industrious labor to improve himself
is no longer necessary."
[Illustration: _ELSIE FERGUSON_]
Frohman always regarded the success of "Secret Service" as the
corner-stone of his great achievements in England. Once, in speaking of
this star's hit, he said:
"You know, what tickles me is the fact that it was left for England to
discover that Gillette is a great actor. It's one on America."
* * *
A few years later, Frohman made his first Paris production with "Secret
Service." The masterful little man always regarded the world as his
field; hence the annexation of Paris. He had a version made by Paul de
Decourcelle, and the play was put on at the Renaissance Theater. Guitry,
the great French actor, played Gillette's part. A very brilliant
audience saw the opening performance, but the French did not get the
atmosphere of the play. They could not determine whether it was serious
or comic. The character of _General Nelson_ was almost entirely omitted
in the play because the actors themselves could not tell whether it was
humor or tragedy. Besides, the French actors wanted to do it their own
way.
Dillingham, who had charge of the production in Paris, realizing on the
opening night that it would be a failure, and knowing that he had to
send Frohman some sort of telegram, cabled, with his customary humor,
the following:
_The tomb of Napoleon looks beautiful in the moonlight._
As was the case in England, Charles was the only American manager who
made any impression upon the French drama. From his earliest producing
days he had a weakness for producing adapted French plays. From France
came some of his hugest successes, especially those of Bernstein. He
"bulled" the French market on prices. The French playwright hailed him
with joy, for he always left a small fortune behind him.
Having established a precedent with Gillette, he now presented his first
American woman star in England. It was Annie Russell in Bret Harte's
story "Sue." He was very fond of this play, having already produced it
in the United States, and he was very proud of the impression that Miss
Russell made in London.
* * *
Up to this time Frohman had made his English productions in conjunction
with the Gattis or George Edwardes at the Adelphi, the Vaudeville, or
the Garrick theaters. This would have satisfied most people. But
Frohman, who wanted to do things in a big way, naturally desired his own
English theater, where he could unfurl his own banner and do as he
pleased.
Early in 1897, therefore, he took what was up to that time his biggest
English step, for he leased the Duke of York's Theater for nineteen
years. His name went over the doorway and from that time on this theater
was the very nerve-center, if not the soul, of Charles Frohman's English
operations. It was one of the best known and the most substantial of
British playhouses, located in St. Martin's Lane, in the very heart of
the theatrical district. He took a vast pride in his control of it. He
even emblazoned the announcement of his London management on the walls
of the Empire on Broadway in New York. In his affections it was in
England what the Empire was to him in America. It was destined to be the
background of his distinguished artistic endeavors, perhaps the most
distinguished.
Charles now embarked on a sea of lavish productions. Typical of his
attitude was his employment of the best-known and highest-salaried
producer in London. This man was Dion Boucicault, son of the famous
playwright of the same name, who was himself a very finished and
versatile actor. He gave the Frohman productions a touch of genuine
distinction, and his wife, the accomplished Irene Vanbrugh, added much
to the attractiveness of the Frohman ventures.
The Frohman sponsorship of the Duke of York's was celebrated with a
magnificent production of Anthony Hope's "The Adventure of Lady Ursula,"
which had been a success in New York with E. H. Sothern. It ran the
entire season. The play was put on in the usual Frohman way, so much so
that the British critics said that "the production, from first to last,
was correct down to a coat-button."
Until the end of his life the Duke of York's Theater had a large place
in his heart. At the back of private box F, which was his own box, and
which was also used for royalty when it visited the play, was a
comfortable retiring-room, charmingly decorated in red. Here Frohman
loved to sit and entertain his friends, especially such close intimates
as Sir James M. Barrie, Haddon Chambers, Sir Arthur Pinero, Henry Arthur
Jones, Michael Morton, and other English playwrights.
These busy days at the Duke of York's furnished Frohman with many
amusing episodes. On one occasion he was caught in the self-operating
elevator of the theater and was kept a prisoner in it for over an hour.
His employees were in consternation. When he was finally extricated they
began to apologize most profusely.
"Nonsense!" said Frohman. "I am glad I got stuck. It's the first
vacation I have had in two years."
The lobby of the Duke of York's illustrates one of Charles's distinctive
ideas. Instead of ornamenting it with pictures of dead dramatic heroes
like Shakespeare and Garrick, he filled it with photographs of his live
American stars. The English theater-goers who went there saw huge
portraits of Maude Adams, Ethel Barrymore, Marie Doro, John Drew, Otis
Skinner, and William Gillette.
On one occasion he was held up at the entrance of the Duke of York's by
a new doorkeeper who asked for his ticket.
"I am Frohman," said the manager.
"Can't help it, sir; you've got to have a ticket."
"You're quite right," said Frohman, who went to the box-office and
bought himself a stall seat. When the house-manager, James W. Matthews,
threatened to discharge the doorkeeper, Frohman said:
"Certainly not. The man was obeying orders. If he had done otherwise you
should have discharged him."
Frohman so loved the Duke of York's that he would go back to it and
witness the same play twenty times. During his last visit to England,
when his right knee was troubling him, he telephoned down one night to
have his box reserved. Matthews, to spare him any trouble, had a little
platform built so that he would not have to walk up the steps. Two weeks
later, Frohman again telephoned that he wanted the box held, and added:
"I am better now. Don't bother to build a theater for me."
Curiously enough, the first failure that Charles had at the Duke of
York's was "The Christian," which had scored such an enormous success in
America. But failure only spurred him on to further efforts. When an
English friend condoled with him about his loss on this occasion he
said:
"Forget it. Don't let's revive the past. Let's get busy and pulverize
the future."
* * *
To the average mind the extent of Frohman's London productions is
amazing. When the simple fact is stated that he made one hundred and
twenty-five of these, one obtains at a glance the immense scope of the
man's operations there. Many of them stand out brilliantly. Early among
them was the Frohman-Belasco presentation of Mrs. Leslie Carter in two
of her greatest successes at the Garrick Theater.
The first was "The Heart of Maryland." It was during this engagement
that Charles bought the English rights to "Zaza," then a sensational
success in Paris. It was his original intention to star Julia Marlowe in
this play. When Belasco heard of the play he immediately saw it was an
ideal vehicle for Mrs. Carter, and Frohman generously turned it over to
him. After its great triumph in the United States, Frohman and Belasco
produced "Zaza" in London.
It was a huge success and made the kind of sensation in which Frohman
delighted. There was much question as to its propriety, so much so that
the Lord Chamberlain himself, who supervised the censorship, came and
witnessed the performance. He made no objection, however.
An amusing incident, which shows the extraordinary devotion of Charles
Frohman's friends, occurred on the first night. While attending the
rehearsals at the Garrick, Frohman caught cold and went to bed with a
slight attack of pneumonia. On the inaugural night he lay bedridden. He
was so eager for news of the play that he said to Dillingham:
"Send me all the news you can."
Dillingham organized a bicycle service, and every fifteen minutes sent
encouraging and cheering bulletins to Frohman, who was so elated that he
was able to emerge from bed the next morning a well man.
Now the interesting thing about this episode is that Dillingham
fabricated most of the messages, because, until the end of the play and
for several days thereafter, its success was very much in doubt. Indeed,
it took more than a week for it to "catch on."
Charles followed up "Zaza" with a superb production of "Madame
Butterfly," in which he used Belasco's beautiful equipment. This
production put the artistic seal on Frohman's achievement as a London
manager. Up to this time there were some who believed that, despite the
lavishness of his policy, there was the germ of the commercial in him.
"Madame Butterfly" removed this, but if there had been any doubt
remaining, it would have been wiped out by his exquisite presentation of
"The First Born." Associated with this play is a story that shows
Frohman's dogged determination and resource.
Belasco had made the production of "The First Born" in America in lavish
fashion. He brought to it all his love and knowledge of Chinese art.
[Illustration: _EDNA MAY_]
A rival manager, W. A. Brady, wishing to emulate the success of "The
First Born," got together a production of "The Cat and the Cherub,"
another Chinese play, and secured time in London, hoping to beat
Frohman out. It now became a race between Frohman and Brady for the
first presentation in London. Both managers were in America. Brady got
his production off first. When Frohman heard of it he said:
"We must be in London first."
"But there are no sailings for a week," said one of his staff.
"Then we will hire a boat," was his retort.
However, there proved to be no need for this enterprise, because a
regular sailing developed.
"The Cat and the Cherub" won the race across the Atlantic and was
produced first. It took the edge off the novelty of "The First Born,"
which was a failure, but its fine quality gave Charles the premier place
as an artistic producer in England, and he never regretted having made
the attempt despite the loss.
Frohman became immersed in a multitude of things. In September, 1901,
for example, he was interested in five English playhouses--the Aldwych,
the Shaftesbury, the Vaudeville, and the Criterion, as well as the Duke
of York's. He had five different plays going at the same time--"Sherlock
Holmes," "Are You a Mason?" "Bluebell in Fairyland," "The Twin Sister,"
and "The Girl from Maxim's." This situation was typical of his English
activities from that time until his death.
* * *
The picturesqueness of detail which seemed to mark the beginning of so
many of Charles Frohman's personal and professional friendships attended
him in England, as the case of his first experience with Edna May shows.
One hot night late in the summer season of 1900 Frohman was having
supper alone on his little private balcony at the Savoy Hotel
overlooking the Thames. It was before the Strand wing of the hostelry
had been built. As he sat there, clad only in pajamas and smoking a
large black cigar, he heard a terrific din on the street below. There
was cheering, shouting, and clapping of hands. Summoning a waiter, he
asked:
"What's all that noise about?"
"Oh, it's only Miss Edna May coming to supper, sir."
"Why all this fuss?" continued Frohman.
"Well, you see, sir," answered the servant, "they are bringing her back
in triumph."
When Frohman made investigation he found that the doctors and nurses at
the Middlesex Hospital in London, where Edna May frequently sang for the
patients, had engaged the whole gallery of the Shaftesbury Theater where
she was singing in "The American Beauty," and attended in a body. After
the play they had surrounded her at the stage entrance, unhitched the
horse from her little brougham, and hauled her through the streets to
the Savoy.
This episode made a tremendous impression on Frohman. He was always
drawn to the people who could create a stir. He had heard that Edna May
was nearing the end of her contract with George Lederer, so he entered
into negotiations with her, and that autumn she passed under his
management and remained so until she retired in 1907.
In the case of Edna May there could be no star-making. The spectacular
rise of this charming girl from the chorus to the most-talked-of musical
comedy role in the English-speaking world--that of the Salvation Army
girl in "The Belle of New York"--had given her a great reputation.
Frohman now capitalized that reputation in his usual elaborate fashion.
He first presented Miss May in "The Girl from Up There."
She appeared under his management in various pieces, both in New York
and in London. Her company in New York included Montgomery and Stone,
Dan Daly, and Virginia Earle. When he presented Miss May at the Duke of
York's in "The Girl from Up There" the result was the biggest business
that the theater had known up to that time. In succession followed
"Kitty Gray," which ran a year in London, "Three Little Maids," and "La
Poupee."
All the while there was being written for Miss May a musical piece in
which she was to achieve one of her greatest successes, and which was to
bring Charles into contact with another one of his future stars. It was
"The School Girl," which Frohman first did in May, 1903, in London, and
afterward put on with great success at Daly's in New York.
In the English production of this play was a petite, red-haired little
girl named Billie Burke, who sang a song called "Put Me in My Little
Canoe," which became one of the hits of the play. Frohman was immensely
attracted by this girl, and afterward took her under his patronage and
she became one of his best-known stars.
Edna May, under Frohman's direction, was now perhaps the best known of
the musical comedy stars in England and America. He took keen delight in
her success. In "The Catch of the Season," which he did at Daly's in New
York in August, 1905, she practically bade farewell to the American
stage. Henceforth Frohman kept her in England. In "The Belle of Mayfair"
she was succeeded by Miss Burke in the leading part. Frohman's
production of "Nelly Neil" at the Aldwych Theater in 1907 was one of the
most superb musical comedy presentations ever made. For this Frohman
imported Joseph Coyne from America to do the leading juvenile role. He
became such a great favorite that he has remained in England ever since.
Just as Edna May had bidden farewell to America in "The Catch of the
Season," so she now bade farewell to the English stage in "Nelly Neil."
She had become engaged to Oscar Lewisohn, who insisted on an early
marriage. About this time Frohman and George Edwardes secured the
English rights to "The Merry Widow." They both urged Miss May to
postpone her marriage and appear in it. Miss May was now compelled to
decide between matrimony and what would have been perhaps her greatest
success, and she chose matrimony.
Her good-by appearance on the stage, May 1, 1907, was one of the most
extraordinary events in the history of the English theater. This lovely,
unassuming American girl had so completely endeared herself to the
hearts of the London theater-goers that she was made the center of a
tumultuous farewell. The day the seat-sale opened there was a queue
several blocks long. During the opening performance Charles sat in his
box alone. When some friends entered he was in tears. He had a genuine
personal affection for Miss May, and her retirement touched him very
deeply.
[Illustration: _BILLIE BURKE_]
In connection with "Nelly Neil" there is a little story which
illustrates Charles's attitude toward his productions. He had spent a
fortune on "Nelly Neil," and it was not a financial success. After
giving it every chance he instructed Lestocq to put up the two weeks'
notice. Lestocq remarked that it was a shame to end such a
magnificent presentation. Whereupon Frohman turned around quickly and
said:
"Shut up, or I'll run it another month. You know, Lestocq, if I don't
keep a hand on myself sometimes my sentiment will be the ruin of me."
* * *
By this time Frohman and James M. Barrie had become close friends. The
manager had produced "Quality Street" at the Vaudeville Theater with
great success. He now approached a Barrie production which gave him
perhaps more pleasure than anything he did in his whole stage life. The
advent of "Peter Pan" was at hand. The remarkable story of how Charles
got the manuscript of "Peter Pan" has already been told in this
biography.
The original title that Barrie gave the play was "The Great White
Father," which Frohman liked. Just as soon as Barrie suggested that it
be named after its principal character, Frohman fairly overflowed with
enthusiasm. In preparing for "Peter Pan" in England, Charles was like a
child with a toy. Money was spent lavishly; whole scenes were made and
never used. He regarded it as a great and rollicking adventure.
The first production of the Barrie masterpiece on any stage took place
at the Duke of York's Theater, London, on December 27, 1904. Frohman was
then in America. At his country place up at White Plains, only his close
friend, Paul Potter, with him, he eagerly awaited the verdict. It was a
bitterly cold night, and a snow-storm was raging. Frohman's secretary in
the office in New York had arranged to telephone the news of the play's
reception which Lestocq was expected to cable from London. On account of
the storm the message was delayed.
Frohman was nervous. He kept on saying, "Will it never come?" His heart
was bound up in the fortunes of this beloved fairy play. While he waited
with Potter, Frohman acted out the whole play, getting down on all-fours
to illustrate the dog and crocodile. He told it as _Wendy_ would have
told it, for _Wendy_ was one of his favorites. Finally at midnight the
telephone-bell rang. Potter took down the receiver. Frohman jumped up
from his chair, saying, eagerly, "What's the verdict?" Potter listened a
moment, then turned, and with beaming face repeated Lestocq's cablegram:
_Peter Pan all right. Looks like a big success._
This was one of the happiest nights in Frohman's life.
The first _Peter_ in England was Nina Boucicault, who played the part
with great wistfulness and charm. She was the first of a quartet which
included Cissy Loftus, Pauline Chase, and Madge Titheradge.
Charles so adored "Peter Pan" that he produced it in Paris, June 1,
1909, at the Vaudeville Theater, with an all-English cast headed by
Pauline Chase. Robb Harwood was _Captain Hook_, and Sibyl Carlisle
played _Mrs. Darling_. It was produced under the direction of Dion
Boucicault. The first presentation was a great hit, and the play ran for
five weeks. On the opening night Barrie and Frohman each had a box.
Frohman was overjoyed at its success, and Barrie, naturally, could not
repress his delight. What pleased them most was the spectacle of row
after row of little French kiddies, who, while not understanding a word
of the narrative, seemed to be having the time of their lives.
From the date of its first production until his death, "Peter Pan"
became a fixed annual event in the English life of Charles Frohman. He
revived it every year at holiday-time. No occasion in his calendar was
more important than the annual appearance of the fascinating boy who had
twined himself about the American manager's heart.
* * *
Charles was now a conspicuous and prominent figure in English theatrical
life. The great were his friends and his opinion was much quoted. In
addition to his sole control of the Duke of York's, he had interests in
a dozen other playhouses. He liked the English way of doing business.
Yet, despite what many people believed to be a strong pro-British
tendency, he was always deeply and patriotically American, and he lost
several fortunes in pioneering the American play and the American actor
in England.