a tug, quietly trailed behind us and after we had gone out into the
bay for about half a mile they suddenly appeared on the port side
only a few feet from us. We could easily talk to one another from
our respective decks. On the side of the tug was suddenly hung a
huge canvas on which were painted in large, black letters the words,
"GOOD LUCK TO NAT!"
It made me feel proud and happy, I can tell you!
They cheered and chattered and we followed suit. The little craft kept
up with us until the sea and wind prohibited their going further. Then,
with a pipe from the little whistle of the tug, to which the captain of
the _Alameda_ responded, she turned her bow towards the city as we sped
silently and swiftly toward the Antipodes.
My leading lady at this time was Miss Blanche Walsh who was engaged
only for the Australian tour. While contemplating the fair Maxine the
evening of the banquet it suddenly struck me what a fine leading
woman she would be for my organization! Everybody told me she was an
extremely poor actress, but I made up my mind to find out for myself.
As I looked at her I thought that surely a woman of so much charm and
beauty who spoke English so purely could be taught.
That evening I went home and told my business manager, McClellan, of my
determination.
"Why, you're crazy!" he shouted. "She's beautiful to look at, but
she can't act; she hasn't the emotion of an oyster! Blanche Bates is
playing rings around her in Frawley's company! Get Bates if you can,
but pass up Elliott! Read what the San Francisco papers say about her!
Go to sleep and in the morning I'll try to engage Blanche Bates for
you!"
I only wish I had followed his advice, but Fate was peeping over my
ramparts! And he caused me to pass a very restless night!
Dressing in my best regalia the next morning I called upon Miss Elliott
at the Baldwin Hotel. In a few moments I was ushered into her presence
and quickly told her of my purpose. It appeared to appeal to her, but
there were several barriers in the way. She was about to sign with
Harry Miner and Joseph Brooks for the following season. I soon learned
that that part of it could be easily arranged as no documents were
signed nor material secured. Her little sister Gertrude must also be
looked after. I said I would engage her whole family if she so desired.
As I look back to that little impromptu business talk I can see
the demure, simple, intelligent Gertrude Elliott, whose fawn-like,
penetrating eyes and shell-like ears drank in every word of our
conversation. I recall the awe with which she reviewed every act and
speech of her beautiful sister!
[Illustration: AN AUSTRALIAN GREETING CAN'T TOUCH ITS
FAREWELL!]
Best of all I can realize, irrespective of all the sorrow which that
interview cost me in after years, that it was the cause of presenting
to the American and English public one of the sweetest actresses
that the world has ever known and the bringing into the world three
of the most beautiful children with which a mother was ever blessed!
Had it not been for that interview Gertrude would never have met
Forbes-Robertson, whose marriage to Gertrude Elliott has proven a
blessing to both and caused the sun to shine resplendently when focused
upon those two loving hearts.
Fate plays pranks with us all and shifts about to suit its pleasure.
Why did he concentrate his force upon one sister at that interview and
demand obedience?
There were two prizes in that room for me to select. As usual I drew
the blank!
It took me but a short time to consummate my arrangements and at three
o'clock I returned with the contracts. One was for $150 and one for $75
a week. Thus Maxine and Gertrude Elliott were engaged for three years
as members of my organization.
I had seen neither on the stage. I simply took a chance, despite all
the uncomplimentary expressions I had heard regarding their want of
abilities, especially Maxine's. That night I saw them act and I never
was more surprised in my life. I saw and heard two women with so much
culture that they were lost in their environment. No attention was paid
to their superb diction nor to the refinement of their manner. All of
it was lost upon the insular, low-browed audience to which they were
playing and of course it was overlooked by the management!
I came home in ecstasy and told McClellan that I had found a gold
mine. When I told him of part of what I had accomplished he sat bolt
upright in bed and upbraided me unmercifully, ending with, "You ----
---- fool! You're going away from one woman only to fall in love with
another! You haven't a chance, though, for she and Frank Worthing are
head over heels in love with each other!"
"I don't give a d--n," I replied cheerfully. "I will engage him too if
he'll come to Australia! He's a fine actor!"
"What?" yelled Mac. "You haven't engaged her for Australia, have you?"
"Sure, Mike," I replied.
"Well," said he, "I always thought you were crazy; now I know it! I'll
bet you a thousand dollars that neither of them will come!"
"You're on," I said. "That is, I'll bet you one will come. Gertrude
gave me her word."
"Oh go have your head examined," growled Mac as he covered his face and
rolled over into slumberland, leaving me alone.
And all night long Fate paced up and down outside my door in the Palace
Hotel plotting my future!
Had I not made those two engagements the pages of history would have
been greatly changed. Had the little Kentucky family held aloof there
would have been no Maxine Elliott Theatre in New York; Forbes-Robertson
would never have met the sweet Gertrude; the latter would never have
been launched as a star; Maxine would not now be a retired actress,
rich and famous; Clyde Fitch's career would have been postponed and the
avenues of my poor life would have been broader and less clogged with
weeds.
_Chapter LII_
HONOLULU AND SAMOA
After my friends had left me I gave one last longing look at the
Cliff House, the scene of many happy hours, and wended my way to the
stateroom which I was to occupy for the next four weeks. I loathe ocean
travel and did not look forward to my trip with much pleasure. The
company came to me after a bit and we passed the afternoon planning
what we would do to while away the hours of the voyage.
Louis Payne had ingratiated himself with a confiding young lady who was
on her way to Honolulu to join her fiancee. Before 6 P. M.
it looked bad for the waiting-to-be-bridegroom. Payne was reading her
sonnets which evidently appealed to her. Neil O'Brien, dear old Neil,
wrote a poem suggestive of the flirtation. Aside from this diversion
the first few days were a trifle monotonous after the strenuous events
of the preceding five weeks. But then came a splendid contrast.
As we entered Honolulu harbor a new colored water seemed to greet us.
A softer sky than I had ever seen hung over the little picturesque
city. The sea resembled a huge flat sapphire. To the right was a range
of devastated mountains, the remnants of pre-historic days. The little
city is a veritable paradise and as one rides into the country it seems
to grow more and more beautiful.
We rode seven miles to the summit of Mt. Pali (meaning precipice). We
could see about and down for miles. It was a most uncanny sight. The
Brocken scene in Faust and Yellowstone Park pale into insignificance by
comparison. Relics of volcanoes, thousands and thousands of years old,
cliffs, mountains of rocks, precipices and barren tracts of land meet
you on every side. This spot is quite interesting in a historical way.
For here it was that King Kamehameha came over from Oahu and conquered
the Hawaiians. Then he depopulated the island.
He landed at the entrance to the harbor and drove the natives on and on
until they reached Mt. Pali. Rather than surrender or through fear they
jumped into the horrible abyss.
He must have been some fighter.
We remained at Honolulu about sixteen hours, rode all about the town
and dined at the Sans Souci, a delightful little place about four miles
out. Before dining we enjoyed a bath in the sea. The temperature of the
water ranges all the year round from seventy-five to eighty. We also
enjoyed shooting the rapids, a most fascinating sport. You wade and
swim out against the tide for five hundred yards. A stalwart native
pushes your tiny canoe in front of him. When you arrive at a given
point you get into the canoe, head toward the shore and the terrific
current hurls you back to the beach. It is exciting. Very often you are
pitched into the sea but you don't mind as the water is shallow and you
are in your bathing suit.
When I look back on Honolulu after all these years I know it is one of
the most glorious spots on earth; but had I penned these lines on the
ground I'm afraid I'd have been less complimentary. Not that the harbor
and landscape were not wondrous in their beauty in every direction
as far as one could see, but--before we ever reached our hotel we
encountered myriads of mosquitoes, all of which pests seemed to be bent
on the destruction of my left eye! In no time it was swollen tight
shut.
A native doctor attended me, pouring something suggesting vitriol--into
the wrong eye!
"Great Scott!" I yelled. "There goes my good eye. Why didn't you put it
in the bad eye? You know that's gone for good anyway."
The Hawaiian physician only smiled, charged me ten dollars and went his
way after assuring me that I'd be "all right in no time." Before I did
recover Arthur Hoops came along. "Governor," said he, "why don't you
write about this beautiful place in your new book?"
"How can I write about a place when I can't see?" I queried indignantly.
It's great to leave Honolulu. The whole city bids you goodby. We were
covered with flowers when we reached the deck of our ship the next day
and as we backed out of the dock their band played Aloha, their goodby
song.
Seven days later, July 10, to be exact, land appeared on the horizon
which the skipper informed us was Apia, Samoa. It was about four
o'clock in the afternoon when I was awakened from my slumbers to catch
a view of the coveted land. My attention was divided contemplating the
horizon and looking back at the wake of the steamer. As we approached
the entrance to the harbor we were reminded very much of Honolulu.
Samoa however, is protected on each side by two peninsulas projecting
far out into the sea.
As one approaches land one notices the ground is covered with much
vegetation. Cocoanut trees are in abundance. Tiny specks appear as one
draws nearer. These soon develop into delightful little huts and homes
of modern architecture, occupied by consuls and men with diplomatic
positions. This harbor has a history.
Once it was the scene of a tremendous hurricane which caught several
ships at anchor in the bay and blew them on the rocks. One English ship
perished with all on board as she vainly endeavored to turn her bow
towards the storm. The crew went down to Davy Jones's locker with the
ship's band playing Rule, Britannia! On the rocks we saw a monument
to the lost of this catastrophe in the shape of a wrecked German
man-of-war.
As we approached the shore swarms of natives came rowing out to meet
us. What splendid specimens of manhood they were! Perfectly formed
they were apparently quite unconscious of their power and as gentle
as they were strong. I noticed one strapping fellow standing in the
bow of his boat beckoning me to join him. As the sun shone upon his
copper colored skin he seemed a monarch even in his semi-nudity and in
barbaric splendor he suggested Othello. With the aid of two assistants
Othello soon landed us on the sands of sunny Samoa. Here we were at
once surrounded by a swarm of natives who persuaded us to purchase
fans, beads, rings, wooden canoes, corals, shells and a score of other
things in which the island abounds. These articles are secured with the
least possible labor for the true Samoan considers it _infra dig_ to
labor long and is firmly convinced that it is a very poor world that
won't support one race of gentlemen.
I am sorry to say the women do not appeal to one as much as the men.
They are small of stature and run to fat. They take but little time in
arranging their toilet for the day and seldom keep their men friends
waiting when asked to a party or a ball, their raiment consisting
mostly of beads!
We spent but little time among the natives as we were anxious to visit
the home of Robert Louis Stevenson. We finally succeeded in procuring
a conveyance, a small cart and pony, and were soon on our way to his
home. After two miles the road turned into a smaller one and there a
sign board, cleanly white-washed, told us in the Samoan tongue that we
were nearing the abode of the great romancer. The sign, translated,
told all travellers that the road was built by the Samoans as a
monument to their beloved friend. At the end of the road we came upon a
locked gate. We vaulted over and in a few minutes we came upon a house,
flat, but of rather huge dimensions.
As we approached the veranda a lady, of small stature, dressed in a
Mother Hubbard, in bare feet, came graciously forward to meet us. In
a moment I recognized her. Her face was keen and intelligent and once
must have been beautiful. She was pale, thoughtful, dignified and sad.
Hers was the right kind of face! It stamped her as the wife of the man
who has made the world marvel at his wondrous imagination. We made
ourselves known and were received most hospitably. She seemed glad to
welcome Anglo-Saxons.
I told her the news of McKinley's nomination and the sad tidings of the
death of Kate Field, her life-long friend.
She prepared a luncheon for us (which did not quite suit my fancy, but
I was too polite to refuse it). It was some kind of a mushy mixture,
requiring the use of a mortar and pestle, which the natives manipulate
quite skillfully. It consisted of several ingredients, one of which I
thought was----never mind! That was soon over, thank the Lord, and Mrs.
Stevenson showed us the house. We reveled in R. L.'s study which was
filled with many original prints, books, emblems and gifts of every
description.
In this room he passed away one afternoon while giving a reception to
the natives who loved him dearly. While bestowing his hospitality he
complained of a pain in his side and, excusing himself to his guests,
started for his chamber. His wife, noticing his deathly pallor, rushed
to his assistance. (Mrs. Stevenson was explicit in her description.)
"Give them my compliments," he said to her as she half carried him
toward his bedroom. "Tell them I'm a trifle ill, but we will all be
together a week from to-night." And he waved an adieu and tried to hide
the pain that racked his body. "It's nothing," he kept repeating to
his wife, "it will soon pass away." But just as he entered his bedroom
words failed him; he could only smile, grasp her hand and sink back
onto the bed.
Thus passed the soul of one of the dearest men and one of the most
brilliant. He suffered but he uttered no complaint. He had a kindly
word even for savages. Now his body lies at the top of a huge mountain
and if you look steadily you can almost outline the form as if it were
lying on some great catafalque. It is most difficult of access; it took
the natives two days and nights to place him on his bed of flowers. But
to this day many of the sturdier ones make the toilsome climb and pay
homage to the man they call their "dear master."
There alone he lies, as far as possible away from this plaything called
earth. Huge trees stand like silent sentinels sheltering him from wind
and rain. His companions are the little birds who sing his praises
through all the hours of the day and night. Above the moon and stars
dance with joy and I can fairly hear the jolly old moon say, "Bobby,
we've got you at last!" And each star is whispering as it twinkles
along, "Bobby has come, Bobby has come!"
Rest on, Robert, until eternity has grown gray. If we worshipped you
down here, what must they be doing for you now? The world is jealous.
We have only your memory. They have your soul.
Tears streamed down my face as I bade goodby to Mrs. Stevenson. It was
all very sad, but I wouldn't have missed it for the crown the Bourbons
lost.
By midnight we were back on board and off to Auckland. We arrived
seven days later after a most perilous journey. I have never seen such
storms as we encountered. The Pacific can pick up more trouble than two
Atlantic oceans. During the entire seven days we were thrown from one
side of the ship to the other with our trunks, hat boxes and valises.
We finally had to tie them down. It took two "ordinary" seamen to open
a handbag!
Captain Van Otterendorf, who apparently had taken a fancy to me, one
day after we were compelled to heave to and lie in the trough of the
sea, called me to his chart room.
"My tear Goodvin," he said, "ve are in a most precarious position. Ve
haf no more coal in de bunkers and ve are quietly drifting on to de
rocks vich are only about two hundred miles to de Vest. I vish ve were
farder avay from de land." I said, "I don't." He said, "Vell, I am now
burning de live stock for fuel and we vill put out de fires in about
an hour and hoist de mainsail." "Why didn't you do this two days ago
and save the coal?" I asked. "I didn't know how much ve started away
from Samoa vith until the purser yust told me," he replied. I looked at
him. "What do you tell me all this for? Don't you think I am frightened
enough without this information?" He replied, "Vell, I like you. No one
yet knows vat vill take place on de ocean and ve can only hope for de
best."
He pulled out a huge bottle of Scotch whiskey from somewhere and I
drank a goblet and in about an hour I didn't care whether the ship sank
or not. Luckily the next day the storm abated. We arrived at harbor of
Sydney.
_Chapter LIII_
PUBLICITY--ITS RESULTS
Before arranging my Australian tour (while I was engaged to the
Kentucky lady) I had planned to obtain a divorce in California by an
understanding with the second Mrs. Goodwin from whom I was then legally
separated. She gave her consent for a cash payment of twenty thousand
dollars. (Wives came high even in those days!)
When I decided to call off the engagement with the Kentucky lady the
divorce was nearly consummated and on my arrival at San Francisco my
attorneys informed me that everything was "O. K." If I came through
with the twenty thousand I would be free in forty-eight hours!
I was so dejected I did not care whether I was free or not and so
informed my lawyers. They told me that they had worked hard over
the case, that there would be no publicity (the suit was brought in
a remote town in lower California) and that I would better pay the
money and get it over. I complied with their arguments and sailed away
feeling as blue as the waters beneath me.
Again Fate was quietly weaving his web. At the very moment that I had
secured my freedom, after months of preparation, Maxine Elliott filed a
suit for her divorce. Neither of us knew of the other's intention until
the American papers came, eight weeks later, with pages, not columns,
devoted to the arch-conspiracy formed by us at San Francisco! I had
"stolen" Miss Elliott away from Frawley, "deserted" my poor, confiding
(twenty-thousand-dollar) wife. Miss Elliott and I had obtained our
divorces in order to marry in Australia!
It was very difficult to inform the world ten thousand miles away that
we very innocently signed a business contract without any thought of
matrimony. But the fact of our obtaining divorces at the same time,
hers following mine by only four weeks, was proof positive!
I shall never forget the day Max and Gertrude came to my room in the
hotel in Sydney with tears streaming down their faces. They were
literally buried in newspapers which they threw on the tables, chairs
and bed. In them were pictures of us all and glaring headlines of a
most sensational character. The girls upbraided me for not telling them
that I was seeking a divorce. I told them I had forgotten all about
it until my arrival in San Francisco and in my turn asked Max why she
didn't let me know that she was endeavoring to secure her freedom? She
answered that it was nobody's business, particularly not mine. I agreed
with her and suggested that the best thing to do was to say nothing and
let matters take their course.
I succeeded in assuaging her grief and we confined ourselves to writing
denials to our friends in America. As for our contemplated plunge into
matrimony Gertrude asked, "Why deny that? One never knows what may
occur and you two do certainly seem to get along together." That got a
laugh and we decided not to deny the possibility.
During our Australian tour we were very much together, the three of us,
but only in a professional and social way. Expressions of love never
passed between Maxine and me then--and very few in after life!
Well, we finished the Australian tour and came back to America, only to
be met with more severe and even more vilifying articles. They were so
cruel, untrue and personal that I very foolishly replied to one or two
of the scorpion writers, which resulted in the article I shall quote
later on written by the Hon. Henry Watterson, and published in the
Louisville "Courier Journal."
I think that even then we would not have married if it had not been
for the reports circulated by three female members of my Australian
company; one, an old lady who had once been a prima donna in an opera
company, another, a young lady whom I discharged in Australia for being
photographed nude and another lady who considered that Miss Elliott
had usurped her position in my company. Two of these ladies perjured
themselves in affidavits. One of them swore that Miss Elliott and I had
communicating cabins on the ship coming back, also communicating rooms
at Honolulu.
The columns of most of the dailies contained articles not quite as
flagrant as the above accusations, but enough to establish a liaison
between us and to ruin the reputation of any woman. Having dear
Gertrude to prove our alibis we were conscious of having committed no
crime and still allowed matters to take their course.
I always had great respect for Maxine's brain and her splendid opinions
regarding untried plays. Had it not been for her superlative judgment I
should never have produced "An American Citizen" or "Nathan Hale."
Perhaps she discovered that my rôles in both plays were subservient
to hers. I later found that the lady was as discerning as she was
discriminating. However, both plays were produced with much success. We
both scored, I making base hits, she, home runs. I first printed her
name featured as supporting me, but as I became enamoured of her charms
her type gradually became larger until it equaled mine.
I think if we had been associated a few years longer my name would have
been up as her leading support!
[Illustration: IN AN AMERICAN CITIZEN
_If we had been associated a few years longer my name would have been
up as her leading support!_]
_Chapter LIV_
IN THE LAND OF THE KANGAROO
We were to have opened our Australian engagement in Sydney--but we
didn't. At the dock, awaiting us, was James C. Williamson, then and
until his death the magnate of the Antipodes in theatrical affairs.
I had known him back in New York in the eighties when he was just
"Jimmy." I had played under his management and had always found him
a likable, fair-minded man. We were to play in Australia under the
management of Williamson and Musgrove. Mr. George Musgrove had made the
contract with me before we started.
Well, as soon as I landed Williamson informed me we were not to open in
Sydney but must go through to Melbourne that very night.
The sting of this disappointment was largely lessened by our finding
on the pier, ready to greet us, two American girls, one of them little
Sadie McDonald whom we all loved. Poor little Sadie McDonald! How she
wanted to go back to God's country! She died before we finished our
engagement in Australia.
That night we went to Melbourne was the coldest I ever lived through.
It was like a December blizzard without the snow. And the date was July
24!
Forgetting that we were going to a land where the seasons are upside
down I had no heavy clothing with me and almost froze.
We were billed to open the night of our arrival. In the forenoon
I drove about trying to discover some announcements of the fact.
What I found would have done injustice to a high school's graduating
exercises. Then I remembered that Williamson had been opposed to my
coming. I found him and asked why our attraction had not been billed.
"Well," replied Williamson, "Musgrove cabled me to announce you
modestly and quietly."