THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
Good-natured, rosy-cheeked, cheerful little Davy Garrick, as Dr.
Johnson called the tragedian, was in the zenith of his glory at the
Drury Lane, London, about the middle of the last century, and Goodman's
Fields, which had cradled the wonderful actor, was in its decline. It
declined so rapidly after Garrick deserted it that its manager, Wm.
Hallam, failed in 1750, and the theatre was closed. Hallam at once
turned his thoughts toward America as a field in which his fortune
might be replenished,--English actors and managers still look upon this
country as an El Dorado,--and so he consulted with his brother Lewis
Hallam, a comedian, and the two came to the conclusion to organize a
company and run the risk of being scalped by what they considered the
liberal but bloodthirsty tomahawk-wielding citizens of the New World.
They got a company together, twenty-four stock plays, many of them
Shakespearian, were selected, with eight farces and a single pantomime,
"The Harlequin Collector, or The Miller Deceived." Wm. Hallam and his
brother were to share the profits of the venture, and the former was to
remain at home while the latter managed the company and threw in his
services as first low comedian, his wife and children also taking parts
in the performances.
Under the direction of Lewis the company, with some scenery, costumes,
and all the usual stage accessories, set sail on board the Charming
Sally in 1752. During the voyage when the weather permitted, the
company rehearsed their plays on the quarter-deck of the vessel, having
the crew and officers for their audience, and receiving from them many
manifestations of the delight which their histrionic efforts brought to
the Jack Tars' hearts. They landed at Williamsburg, then the capital of
Virginia, and the manager after a diligent search found a store-house
on the outskirts of the town, which he thought would suit his purpose.
This he leased and metamorphosed into a theatre with pit, gallery,
and boxes, and having the establishment ready on September 5, 1752,
on that day the first performance ever given in America by a regular
company of comedians, was given to a presumably large and delighted
audience. As was the custom in those days, the bill was a double one,
consisting of "The Merchant of Venice" and the farce "Lethe." The cast
for "The Merchant of Venice" was as follows: _Bassanio_, Mr. Rigby;
_Antonio_, Mr. Clarkson; _Gratiano_, Mr. Singleton; _Salanio_ and
_Duke_, Mr. Herbert; _Salarino_ and _Gobbs_, Mr. Wignel; _Launcelot_
and _Tubal_, Mr. Hallam; _Shylock_, Mr. Malone; _Servant to Portia_,
Master Lewis Hallam (being his first appearance on any stage);
_Nerissa_, Miss Palmer; _Jesica_ (her first appearance on any stage),
Miss Hallam; _Portia_, Mrs. Hallam. The cast for "Lethe" was as follows
(the _Tailor_ having been cut out, and the part of _Lord Chalkston_
not having been written into the farce at the time the Hallam company
left England): _Esop_, Mr. Clarkson; _Old Man_, Mr. Malone; _Fine
Gentleman_, Mr. Singleton; _Frenchman_, Mr. Rigby; _Charon_, Mr.
Herbert; _Mercury_, Mr. Adcock; _Drunken Man_ and _Tattoo_, Mr.
Hallam; _John_, Mr. Wignel; _Mrs. Tattoo_, Miss Palmer; _Fine Lady_,
Mrs. Hallam.
The Williamsburg theatre was a very rude structure, and so near the
woods that the manager could, as he often did, stand in the back door
of the building and shoot pigeons for his dinner. Still the company
remained here for a long time and met with much success. The house
was finally destroyed by fire and the company removed to Annapolis,
where a substantial building was converted to their use and where they
remained with fortune favoring them until they got ready to go to
New York. This they did in 1753, opening a theatre in the metropolis
on September 17th, that on Nassau Street, in a building afterwards
occupied by the old Dutch Church. The bill for the first night was
"The Conscious Lovers" and the ballad-farce "Damon and Phillida." But
three performances were given each week--on Mondays, Wednesdays, and
Fridays--and this continued to be the rule up to the beginning of the
present century. The price of admission was eight shillings to the
boxes, six shillings to the pit and three shillings to the gallery.
This was on the first night, but the second night the prices were
lowered to six shillings, five shillings, and three shillings for
boxes, pit, and gallery respectively, and by the middle of October
a fourth reduction was made, so that admission to the pit could be
had for four shillings and to the gallery for two shillings. The
performance began at six o'clock, and on the bill for the opening night
appears a request that ladies and gentlemen will come to the theatre
in time, and a statement that nothing under the full price will be
taken during the entire performance. This seems to be a departure from
the custom of the mother country, where half price was received for
admission after the third act. The Nassau Street theatre was closed
on the evening of March 18, 1754, with "The Beggars' Opera" and "The
Devil to Pay."
While the company was still in New York, Manager Hallam was endeavoring
to come to terms with the Quakers of Philadelphia, who strenuously
objected to having players in their midst, or to allowing stage
representations in their city. Mr. Malone, a member of the company, was
at length sent on to the Quaker City, as Hallam's ambassador, and after
considerable trouble succeeded in obtaining Gov. Hamilton's permission
to present twenty-four plays and their attendant farces provided there
was nothing indecent or immoral in them. In April, 1754 the company
gave its first performance in Philadelphia, playing the tragedy of
"The Fair Penitent," and the farce, "Miss in Her Teens." The building
occupied by the actors is designated by William Dunlap, the historian
of the early American theatre, as "the store-house of a Mr. Plumstead,"
and was situated "on the corner of the first alley above Pine Street."
After the twenty-four performances had been given by "authority of his
excellency," Gov. Hamilton, the players were allowed to add six more
nights, after which they returned to New York. Here they erected a
theatre on Cruger's wharf, between Old Slip and Coffee House Slip, and
prospered.
Boston did not have a theatre until 1792, and then got its first place
of amusement only because Wignell and three other members of Hallam's
company, for some reason or other, seceded from it. The seceders
brought to their standard some money men of the Hub, a building was
erected, and on August 10, 1792, the first show was given; feats on
the tight rope and acrobatic and other artists contributing to the
entertainment. Five years later New York had two theatres, one on the
Johns, and the other on Greenwich Street, and when the nineteenth
century began, amusements were in a flourishing condition in all the
large cities of the country, and the theatre had taken firm root and
gave full promise of its present prosperity in the New World.
They were a queer band, these early strollers on American soil. It
reads like a romance to follow them through the history of their
early struggles, and to scrutinize the personal peculiarities of the
individuals who composed the company. One of them--I forget which at
the present moment--was an imaginative fellow given up to all sorts of
schemes and inventions, and published far and wide the announcement
that he had discovered a process of manufacturing salt from sea water.
A member of one of the earliest orchestras--a short time after Hallam
had ceased furnishing music to his audience with "one Mr. Pelham and
his harpsichord" or the single fiddle of a Mr. Hewlett--had been a
Catholic priest in Switzerland, and had suffered the tortures of the
Inquisition. He told his story to his manager one day and it was really
touching. His mother, he said, had dedicated him in his infancy to the
priesthood. When he became old enough he was placed in a theological
seminary, instructed and duly ordained. He was a priest when Spain went
to war against France. His canton raised a regiment, and the priest
being made its chaplain accompanied it to Madrid. In Madrid he for the
first time learned to love. He met in the street a handsome Spanish
lady who won his heart and lit the fire of passion in his frame. He
became acquainted with her, and ascertained that the lady reciprocated
his affection. There were many moments of stolen pleasure, many sighs
and vows, until they finally agreed to flee together to America. The
day and hour were agreed upon, and the lovers were in readiness, when
a strong hand was laid upon the recreant priest's shoulder and he was
thrown into prison. He realized his awful position at once, knowing
that he was in the power of that monster, the Inquisition. For weeks
he remained chained to the floor of his cell. Once he was led out
to execution, but by some miracle or accident, was saved. At last,
having suffered severely, he was put to the torture, and weak, dying,
and distracted was led to the gate of his prison, thrust out into
the street, and warned as he valued his life to leave Madrid within
ten days. It is needless to say he did so, and never learned or saw
anything more of his Spanish sweetheart.
From the rude and uncomfortable theatre of a century ago, with
dressing-rooms under the stage, and but a single fiddle or harpsichord
player for the orchestra, with poorly lighted and illy ventilated
auditoriums, with meagre scenery and ragged wardrobes--from the
primitive theatre of the New World has grown the magnificent,
symmetrical, and elegantly appointed houses of amusement of the
present day--structures beautifully and chastely ornamented in their
exteriors, while their interiors have received the most delicate
touches of the artist's brush and the most careful attention from
the upholsterer--beautiful in color and drapery, rich in furniture,
and the very perfection of architectural design. Our stages are
revelations of dramatic completeness, sometimes presenting scenic
pictures that challenge nature itself in their attractiveness, and at
all times surrounding the actors of a play with accessories gorgeous
and extensive enough to mystify as well as delight nine out of every
ten patrons of the theatre. The manner in which these extraordinary
and pleasing illusions are produced is one of the great secrets of the
stage, and when the mechanism employed is explained the reader will be
surprised to learn how simple and almost undisguised are the methods
whereby the people behind the scenes work and multiply wonders.