I Have to Pass through Bitter Humiliation to Win High Encomiums from
Herr Bandmann; while Edwin Booth's Kindness Fills the Theatre with Pink
Clouds, and I Float Thereon.
Occasionally one person united two "lines of business," as in the case of
Mrs. Bradshaw, who played "old women" and "heavy business" both, and when
anything happened to disqualify such a person for work the inconvenience
was of course very great. Mrs. Bradshaw, as I have said before, was very
stout, but her frame was delicate in the extreme, and her slender ankles
were unable to bear her great weight, and one of them broke. Of course
that meant a long lying up in dry-dock for her, and any amount of worry
for ever so many other people. Right in the middle of her imprisonment
came the engagement of the German actor, Herr Daniel Bandmann. He was to
open with "Hamlet," and, gracious Heaven! I was cast for the
_Queen-mother_. It took a good deal in the way of being asked to do
strange parts to startle me, but the _Queen-mother_ did it. I was just
nicely past sixteen, but even I dared not yet lay claim to seventeen, and
I was to go on the stage for the serious Shakespearian mother of a star.
"Oh, I couldn't!"
"Can't be helped--no one else," growled Mr. Ellsler. "Just study your
lines, right away, and do the best you can."
I had been brought up to obey, and I obeyed. We had heard much of Mr.
Bandmann, of his originality, his impetuosity, and I had been very
anxious to see him. After that cast, however, I would gladly have
deferred the pleasure. The dreaded morning came. Mr. Bandmann, a very big
man, to my frightened eyes looked gigantic. He was dark-skinned, he had
crinkly, flowing hair, his eyes were of the curious red-brown color of a
ripe chestnut. He was large of voice, and large of gesture. There was a
greeting, a few introductions, and then rehearsal was on, and soon, oh!
so soon, there came the call for the _Queen_. I came forward. He glanced
down at me, half smiled, waved his arm, and said: "Not you, not the
_Player-Queen_, but _Gertrude_."