PANIC AT NEW ORLEANS--THERMOMETER FALLS 105 DEGREES--BANQUET AT
CHICAGO--THE COUNT DI LUNA AT MARKET--COFFEE JOHN--AN AMERICAN GEORGE
ROBINS--MY UNDERTAKER.
On getting down to New Orleans we found a great change in the
temperature, and although it was the month of January the thermometer
stood at about 75 deg.. It had been raining exactly six weeks prior to our
arrival, and only ceased as our train went in, fine weather immediately
afterwards making its appearance.
Our opening opera was _La Sonnambula_ with Nevada, which was followed by
_La Traviata_ with Mdme. Patti. Prior to the last act a panic was caused
in the theatre by the falling of some plaster from the front of the
dress circle. Someone near the exit to the stalls shouted "Fire," a cry
which was repeated by numbers of men in the lobby. Consternation was
seen in the faces of the audience, and a general rush was made for the
doors. The situation was serious in the extreme; but the presence of
mind of some gentlemen present, aided by the equal coolness of several
ladies, had the effect of allaying the general fright.
Many ladies, on the other hand, fainted from excitement, whilst numbers
of persons left the theatre, so that the last act was given with a very
bare house.
"A great deal of excitement," wrote a local journal, "was manifested in
the street, and rumour magnified the incident. It took the shape of a
fearful accident in the minds of some people, and it was some time
before the public was assured that no damage had resulted to life or
limb. One young lady fainted as she was about to enter her carriage in
front of the theatre. She fell to the side walk, slightly cutting her
mouth, and was unconscious for a few minutes. With the assistance of Dr.
Joseph Scott, her friends succeeded in reviving her, and she was placed
in a carriage and driven home. Mr. David Bidwell was this morning waited
upon by the _Item_ reporter, who informed him of the many rumours
regarding the safety of the St. Charles Theatre. Mr. Bidwell said: 'The
whole trouble comes from the fall of a small piece of plastering, three
feet long by one foot and a half wide, in the left part of the theatre,
back to the _parquette_ seats. The plastering at that place had been
disturbed during the Kiralfy engagement by the moving out of some
scenery. I had the spot repaired during the wet weather, and, from the
dampness, the plastering did not hold. As regards the solidity of the
theatre, you can state that it is the strongest building of its kind;
the walls are in places four feet thick. Everything inside is sound and
substantial, having been recently repaired and renovated. Mr. William
Freret, the architect, has just been in here, and made a thorough
inspection. He finds everything in first-class condition, and sound as
can be. The public should not give credence to silly rumours, but listen
to the voice of common sense and reason, and accept this satisfactory
explanation.'"
The City Surveyor, with various architects, visited the theatre the
following day to report; but all certified that the building was solid,
and that probably the stamping of so many feet in applauding Patti had
caused the fall of the plaster. However it may have been, my receipts
being so considerably injured, I was compelled, after paying damages to
the manager for not completing the engagement, to remove the Company and
rent the Grand French Opera-house for the ensuing week. When my
announcement was made several ladies called upon me, and a meeting was
convened at one of their houses at which the _elite_ of the city were
present. A number of gentlemen had been invited to tea, and before being
allowed to leave the room each of them was required to subscribe for at
least one box. In this manner the whole of my boxes for the remainder
of the season were disposed of.
I had a deal of trouble in getting the theatre into working order, it
having been closed for a considerable period. The corridors had to be
whitened and the dressing-rooms to be papered, and all the business had
to be conducted in French, as my stage carpenters and _employes_ were
all of that nationality. The manager of the other theatre had refused to
allow any of his staff to assist.
During this time the great New Orleans Exhibition had been opened, to
which thousands of people were attracted. My attention, however, was
drawn to the Woman's Work Department, in great need just then. I
therefore organized a grand benefit _matinee_ on their behalf, which was
promptly responded to by many of the ladies of New Orleans. Many of my
principal artists took part in the concert, and I was assisted by a
splendid Mexican cavalry band. A large sum of money was realized, which
was afterwards handed over to the treasurer of the Woman's Department.
After a performance of _Les Huguenots_ we all left that night for St.
Louis. The temperature was now intolerable, the thermometer marking 75
degrees. But on reaching St. Louis the following Monday afternoon we
were overtaken by a blizzard. It was literally raining ice. The streets
were impassable, it being difficult to stand upright or to move a step;
whilst the thermometer stood 30 degrees below zero (62 deg. below freezing
point)--being a fall of 105 degrees. I need scarcely say everyone caught
sore throat, even to the chorus. One or two of the ballet girls were
blown down and hurt on leaving the train, and it was with considerable
difficulty that I made a commencement that evening, two hours after our
arrival, with a performance of _La Sonnambula_. This was followed by
_Semiramide_ with Patti and Scalchi, and by _Lucrezia_ with Fursch-Madi.
All the artists not taking part in these works were ill in bed during
the week.
Prior to our leaving St. Louis a magnificent banquet was tendered to me
by the Directors of the newly-organized Opera Festival Association of
Chicago. The day originally fixed was the Wednesday during that week;
but it had afterwards to be transferred to Thursday, all the trains to
Chicago being snowed up, whilst several thousands of freight cars
blocked the line for miles. I ventured after the performance on the only
train allowed out of the station for Chicago, where I arrived the
following day, and visited the huge glass building, formerly the
exhibition, where I marked out what I considered would be the dimensions
necessary for the construction of the New Grand Opera-house. In doing so
I must have rather miscalculated my measurements, as I was shortly
afterwards informed that if carried out the theatre would be a mammoth
one.
In the evening I attended the banquet given in my honour, which was
laid for fifty covers in the large room of the magnificent Calumet Club.
The banqueting hall was picturesquely decorated with flowers. The tables
were curved in the form of a huge lyre, bearing the coat of arms of the
Association.
At the head of the table, which formed the base of the lyre, sat the
President, Ferd. W. Peck, and at his right hand I was placed as the
guest of the evening. Next to me was the Mayor, and next him the Hon.
Emery A. Stores, the Vice-President of the Association. At President
Peck's left hand sat the Hon. Eugene Carey and George Schneider, the
treasurer of the newly-formed Association. All the city notabilities,
more or less, were present on this occasion. At the conclusion of the
banquet the President rose, introducing me as "The Napoleon: the Emperor
of Opera," giving at the same time a brief outline of the work proposed
to be accomplished. My speech was a very short one. I said: "After
twenty-four years' experience in the rendition of opera I feel that my
greatest success is about to be achieved here in Chicago. Never before
have such opportunities been afforded me. I have this morning been over
the Exposition building with an architect, and have fixed upon a large,
comfortable auditorium. I also visited the hall where the extra chorus
was practising, and I must say I was surprised at its excellence in
every way. Never have I heard a better chorus, even in the Old World."
The Mayor afterwards rose and paid me the highest compliments.
In the small hours of the following morning, when we separated, I went
to the station and thence returned to St. Louis.
At the close of the week we left St. Louis with the whole of the troupe,
some 180 strong, reaching Kansas City late that evening. Most of the
members of the Company went to the Coates House, Mdme. Patti, however,
remaining in her private car, where the following day I paid her a
visit. No sooner had I entered than we were shunted and sent some four
miles down the line, much to the surprise of Nicolini, who had been
speaking to me on the platform but a moment previously. We were detained
a considerable time, and Mdme. Patti experienced a great shock as
suddenly a goods truck, which had got uncoupled, came running down. This
caused a great concussion, which broke most of the glass, and sent
Nicolini's cigars, jams, the parrot, the piano, the table, and the
flowers all pell-mell on to the floor. Mdme. Patti, however, took it in
good part, and, assisted by her maids, commenced gathering up the broken
ornaments and smashed bottles. The floor ran with Chateau Lafite.
Mdme. Patti visited the opera that evening, the Mayor of the town
conducting her down the passage way to her proscenium box amidst such a
storm of applause as is rarely heard in an Opera-house. Ladies burst
their gloves in their enthusiasm, and men stood on their seats to get a
view of the _Diva_. On reaching the box the audience rose and cried:
"_Brava!_"
After the performance that night the train moved on in the direction of
Topeka, where, through the politeness of the railway officials, I got
Patti's car attached to the San Francisco express, which conveyed her to
her destination in about three and a half days.
The rest of the Company remained in Topeka to give a performance of _Il
Trovatore_, Mdme. Dotti being the "Leonora," Mdme. Scalchi "Azucena," De
Anna the "Count di Luna," and Giannini "Manrico." The success was
immense, the house being full, and the receipts reaching L700.
In connection with Topeka, I must mention rather a curious incident. We
had exhausted our stock of wine in the train, and those artists taking
part in the performance, on entering the hotel near the theatre where it
was proposed to dine, were surprised and annoyed at having water placed
before them; the baritone vowing, with a knife in his hand, that unless
he could have a more stimulating beverage he would refuse to play the
"Count di Luna" that evening.
Inquiry was made high and low, but there was not a drop of wine or
spirits of any kind officially known to be in the town. Going along the
street on my return to the hotel, I met a gentleman with whom I was
acquainted, and through his kindness I was enabled to obtain from a
medical practitioner a prescription. The prescription was in the Latin
language, and the chemist evidently understood its meaning. There was no
question of making it up. He simply handed me three bottles of very good
hock.
At the conclusion of the opera, it being a most delightful evening, the
various choristers and others made purchases of all kinds of
comestibles, and it was a most ridiculous thing to observe some going
down with chickens carried by the neck, others with cauliflowers and
asparagus. The "Count di Luna" with a huge ham under his arm, and
"Manrico" with a chain of sausages, took their provisions down to the
cars to be cooked for supper, during which the train started for St.
Joseph.
We reached St. Joseph the following day, where Mdlle. Nevada appeared in
_La Sonnambula_, greatly pleasing the audience, which packed the theatre
full.
We arrived the next afternoon at half-past four at Omaha, where we
remained one day, my advance agent having failed to conclude any
arrangements for our appearance there.
Shortly afterwards we started for Cheyenne, arriving in the Magic City,
as it is called, in about a couple of days; when, to my great
astonishment, no announcement whatever had been made of our visit, my
advance agent again, for some unaccountable reason, having gone on the
road towards San Francisco without notifying even a word.
Our coming there was quite an unexpected event. Arrangements were
immediately made to give a performance. This entailed a delay of a
couple of days, which delighted me, although it caused some loss, as it
enabled me to drive over the beautiful country and visit once more the
charming Club, where I had a right royal welcome from my numerous
friends of the previous year.
At four o'clock the 3rd Cavalry band, in full uniform, came to serenade
me at my hotel.
The opera selected was _Lucia di Lammermoor_, and the receipts came to
some L700.
At the close of the performance we started for Salt Lake City, where we
arrived on the following Thursday. Here, to my great regret, I was
compelled to change the bill in consequence of Mdlle. Nevada's
indisposition, at which the inhabitants and the Press grumbled as if it
were my fault. Reports of course were circulated that she had not
received her salary.
Whilst at Salt Lake City many of the artists and orchestral players
wandered about, visiting various places of interest; and some were
attracted to a restaurant kept by one "Coffee John," in whose window was
exposed a huge turtle, bearing this tragic inscription on its head:
"This afternoon I am to have my throat cut;" whilst on its back was a
ticket for a private box, with the statement that Coffee John had paid
40 dollars for it, and was going to visit the opera that evening.
In order to patronize this enthusiastic amateur several of our principal
artists went in and ordered luncheon. Coffee John was very polite,
promising to applaud them on hearing them sing, and allowing many of
them to go into the kitchen to prepare their own macaroni. The price of
the luncheon was very moderate, so everyone decided to go and dine at
Coffee John's later on.
When dinner was over they asked the waiter how much they had to pay.
"Six dollars a head," said the waiter.
"Corpo di Bacco!" exclaimed one of the artists; "dat is too dear. Where
is Coffee John, our friend, our friend?"
"He has gone to dress for the opera," replied the head waiter, "and I
dare not disturb him."
As there were twelve diners the bill came to 72 dollars, so that Coffee
John, who had paid 40 dollars for his box, occupied it for nothing that
evening, and profited, moreover, largely by the transaction. The waiter
told the astonished artists that his governor had paid 40 dollars to
hear them sing without kicking, and that he expected liberal treatment
in return; finally, he thought the best plan for them would be to pay
their six dollars each and clear out; which they eventually had to do.
Mdlle. Nevada had taken cold at Cheyenne, and contracted what turned out
to be a severe illness; and I lost her services for no less than four
weeks afterwards.
The night before we reached Salt Lake City Mdme. Scalchi's parrot died,
which caused the excellent contralto to go into hysterics and take to a
bed of sickness. I had announced _Il Trovatore_, in which the now
despondent vocalist was to have taken the part of the vindictive gipsy.
This I considered would amply compensate for the absence of Nevada. Only
half an hour before starting for the theatre I was notified by Mdme.
Scalchi's husband that she would be unable to appear that evening. I
insisted, however, upon her going at all events to the theatre, as I
considered the death of a parrot not sufficient reason for disappointing
a numerous public. I threatened at the same time to fine her very
heavily if she refused.
About an hour afterwards the call-boy came down, up to his waist in
snow, to the door of my car--some little distance from the
station--stating that Mdme. Scalchi had again gone into hysterics, and
was lamenting loudly the loss of her beloved bird.
On my arriving at the theatre with another "Azucena," taken suddenly
from the cars (this one was lamenting only that she had not dined), I
found that it wanted but five minutes to the commencement of the
overture. There was Mdme. Scalchi dressed as "Azucena," and it was
impossible even to obtain possession of her clothing, for she was almost
in a fainting condition. At last, however, she divested herself of her
gipsy garments; and she was replaced by my new "Azucena," Mdlle.
Steinbach.
After the opera was over we started for San Francisco.
On reaching Ogden early in the morning I received a telegram from San
Francisco notifying Mdme. Patti's arrival there, but adding that she
would not come out in _Semiramide_ in conjunction with Mdme. Scalchi,
though that was the opera announced for my opening night. _La Diva_
wanted a night entirely to herself.
As every seat had been sold for the first performance, and places were
at a high premium, I did not see how it was possible to make any
alteration in the bill. I therefore declined. Towards the latter part of
the following day, at Winnemucca, I got another telegram saying that
Mdme. Patti would appear in _Il Barbiere_. This I declined, knowing that
opera to be, in America at least, most unattractive. Nearly at every
station did I receive telegrams, some of which I answered. At last I
effected a kind of compromise by substituting _Linda_. This change
caused me a loss of some L600 or L800.
On the road I had received a telegram from my auctioneer, the famous Joe
Eldridge, desiring to know if he should reserve any seats or offer the
whole to the public. I replied that not a single seat was to be
reserved; he was to sell all. He took me at my word, and the following
day I received a telegram that not only had he sold the whole of the
pit and dress circle and boxes, but also the whole of the gallery for
every night of the season, and that the premiums on the tickets alone
amounted to something like L15,000 for the two weeks' season; and,
although over 3,000 tickets of admission for every night of the whole
season had been sold, the demand, instead of abating, kept on
increasing. In many cases as much as 150 dollars per seat premium had
been paid. The sale altogether surpassed that of the previous year.
I was afterwards informed by an eye-witness of the indefatigable
exertions Joe Eldridge had gone through on the day of the auction. On
entering the orchestra he first of all gave a graphic description of
each of the different prime donne who were to take part in the season's
performances, explaining also the enormous value the tickets would reach
as soon as the whole of the Company arrived. He then, feeling warm, took
off his hat. After a few lots had been sold he removed his cravat,
afterwards his coat, followed later by his waistcoat and his
shirt-collar, which he threw off into the stalls. Then, as the business
became more exciting, off went his braces. Afterwards he loosened his
shirt, tucking up both sleeves; and he was in a state of semi-nudity
before he got rid of the last lot.
On leaving the theatre after the sale this highly esteemed gentleman, I
regret to say, was attacked by pneumonia, which carried him off in a few
hours. His death was a sad shock to all, for he was a general
favourite.
The _San Francisco Daily Report_ wrote on the subject:--
"Joe Eldridge arrived in San Francisco in 1849, and after visiting
various parts of the State returned to San Francisco, in the house of
Newhall and Co. About this time he lost his right leg in a very
remarkable manner. He was in the habit of signalling each sale by a
hearty slap of his hand on his right thigh at the word 'gone.' The
constant concussion brought on a cancer, and the leg had to be
amputated. This misfortune, which would have depressed most men, more or
less, for the rest of their lives, had no effect on his energy or his
high spirits. He was a most charitable man, and beloved by all who knew
him, being one of the founders of Mill's Seminary, whilst he was a
pillar of strength at Dr. Stone's first Congregational Church."
One word as to Joe Eldridge's method of doing business. No one could get
such prices as he obtained; and these he often secured by pretending to
have heard bids which had never been made.
"Nine dollars," an intending purchaser would say.
"Ten dollars," Joe would cry.
"I said nine," the bidder would explain.
"Eleven!" shouted Joe. "I know your income, and you ought to be ashamed
of yourself. Twelve!" he would then exclaim, supported and encouraged by
the laughter and applause of the public. "And if you say another word
I'll make it thirteen."
A very different sort of man was the auctioneer by whom poor Eldridge
was succeeded. He called me the spirited "impresio," and sang the
praises of Mdme. Bauermeister, whose name he pronounced "Boormister,"
and Mdme. Lablache, whom he described as the famous "Labiche." Rinaldini
was another of my singers whose name, sadly as he mutilated it, had
evidently taken his fancy. Mdme. Bauermeister, Mdme. Lablache, and
Signor Rinaldini are excellent artists. But it was a mistake to insist
so much on their merits while passing over altogether those of Mdme.
Patti, Mdlle. Nevada, and Mdme Scalchi.
In due course we arrived at San Francisco, where the usual crowd was
awaiting us. During the latter part of the journey one of my _corps de
ballet_ became seriously indisposed, and died the following Tuesday in
St. Mary's Hospital. She was but sixteen years of age, and had been with
me eight years, being one of my Katti Lanner school children. She had
taken cold in the dressing-room at Cheyenne. During the journey, the
train being twenty-three hours late, she received the attention of Dr.
Wixom, Mdme. Nevada's father, also of Dr. Palmer, Mdme. Nevada's present
husband.
On the day of the funeral some magnificent offerings were placed on the
coffin, consisting of pillows of violets with the initials of the
deceased, anchors of pansies, lilies, violets, roses, etc., likewise a
beautiful cross of violets and camellias. I attended the funeral
personally, accompanied by my stage manager, Mr. Parry, and seven of
the ballet girls, including a sister of the dead girl, who all carried
flowers. The affair was strictly private, the experience of the previous
year suggesting this on account of the crowd on the former occasion. The
whole of the flowers were afterwards placed upon the grave; and a
celebrated photographer, I. W. Tabor, produced some beautiful pictures
which I sent to London to the family of the deceased, who received them
before the news of her death.
At the conclusion of the funeral, which had been conducted by Mr.
Theodore Dierck, of 957, Mission Street, the spirited undertaker begged
to be appointed funeral furnisher to the Company, he having had charge
of the Lombardelli interment in the previous year, which, he said, "gave
such satisfaction;" and I was not astonished, though a little startled,
on my last visit to find over his shop this inscription:
"Funeral furnisher by appointment to Colonel Mapleson."