[168] It is of this period that Mildred Aldrich wrote, in her article

on Mrs. Fiske in _Famous American Actors of To-day_: “It was twilight

on a very cold day when I knocked at her room at Hotel Vendome. A

clear voice bade me enter and in a moment I had forgotten my cold

drive. It was a voice which I can never forget, and which even as I

write of it comes to my ear with a strange delicious insistence. As

the door closed behind me there rose from the depths of a large chair,

and stood between me and the dim light from the window a slender,

childish figure, in a close-fitting, dark gown. The fading light, the

dark dress, threw into greater relief the pale face with its small

features and deep eyes, above and around which, like a halo, was a

wealth of curling red hair. I had been told that she was young; but

I was not prepared for any such unique personality as hers, and I

still remember the sensation of the surprise she was to me as a most

delightful experience. This was not the conventional young actress to

whom I have been accustomed; this slight, undeveloped figure, in its

straight, girlish gown reaching only to the slender ankles. There was

a pretty assumption of dignity; there was a constant cropping out in

bearing, in speech, in humor and in gestures of delicious, inimitable,

unconcealable youth which was most fetching and which had something so

infinitely touching in it.

“I have never encountered a face more variable. At one moment I would

think her beautiful. The next instant a quick turn of the head would

give me a different view of the face and I would say to myself, ‘She is

plain’; then she would speak, and that beautiful musical _mezzo_, so

uncommon to American ears, and from which a Boston man once emotionally

declared ‘feeling could be positively wrung, so over-saturated was it,’

would touch my heart and all else would be forgotten. Such was Minnie

Maddern when I first met her on her eighteenth birthday.”

[169] This was not her first marriage. She had been married when she

was about sixteen to LeGrand White, a musician and theatrical manager.

They were divorced about two years before she married Mr. Fiske.

“For two years before her marriage [to Mr. Fiske] she had been

continually worried with the theatre and her rest was a welcome one.

She had many interests beside the stage, and loved to get away to a

little cottage, at Larchmont, where she took an active part in all the

doings, and where she was a familiar figure driving a little yellow

cart madly over the roads, more often bare headed than not, and always

with that wonderful red hair flying in the wind.”--Mildred Aldrich.

[170] The list of productions beginning with Mrs. Fiske’s return to

the stage in 1893, and not including revivals, is as follows: _A

Doll’s House_, and _Hester Crewe_ (by Mr. Fiske), 1893; _Frou-Frou_,

1894; _The Queen of Liars_ (_La Menteuse_) and _A White Pink_, 1895;

_A Light from St. Agnes_ (by Mrs. Fiske) and _La Femme de Claude_,

1896; _Divorçons_ and _Tess of the D’Urbervilles_, 1897; _A Bit of

Old Chelsea_ and _Love Finds a Way_ (_The Right to Happiness_) 1898;

_Little Italy_, _Magda_, and _Becky Sharp_, 1899; _The Unwelcome Mrs.

Hatch_ and _Miranda of the Balcony_, 1901; _Mary of Magdala_, 1902;

_Hedda Gabler_, 1903; _Leah Kleschna_, 1904; _The Rose_, and _The Eyes

of the Heart_ (one-act plays by Mrs. Fiske), 1905; _Dolce_, and _The

New York Idea_, 1906; _Rosmersholm_, 1907; _Salvation Nell_, 1908;

_Hannele_, _The Pillars of Society_, and _Mrs. Bumpstead-Leigh_, 1910;

_The New Marriage_, 1911; _Lady Patricia_ and _The High Road_, 1912;

_Lady Betty Martingale, or The Adventures of a Hussy_, 1914.

[171] H. T. Parker in the _Boston Transcript_.

[172] W. P. Eaton.

[173] H. T. Parker.

[174] In 1907 Mrs. Fiske took _The New York Idea_ on an unprecedented

tour throughout the West. She played not only as far South as the

Mexican border, and along the Pacific coast, but even went into the

Canadian Northwest as far as Edmonton, appearing in many towns that

had never before seen a theatrical company of the highest grade. And

_The New York Idea_, a sophisticated comedy addressed to Eastern

audiences, was successful everywhere. At Globe, Arizona, the audience

contained hundreds who had come from long distances by train, stage

or horse-back. Calgary demanded a return engagement. At Edmonton the

play was given in a rink on an improvised stage, and lasted from eleven

o’clock--the time of the arrival of the belated train--till two of the

early northern dawn.

[175] “There never was a case of lame or scurvy dog that fell under

Mrs. Fiske’s notice that did not get instant relief. A mangy and

ownerless mongrel cur on the street never failed to find a friend in

her. If she were in a carriage, no conveyance was too good for Towser

or Tige. Towser or Tige might never have had a bath during all of his

unhappy dog days, but into the carriage went the friend of man, and the

coachman was directed to steer for the nearest veterinarian, who was

forthwith subsidized to make a good dog out of a very much frazzled

one, and send the bill to Mrs. Fiske. All over this glorious country

dogs were being repaired, boarded, and rebuilt as good as new, when

masters were adopted for them, and ‘the dog that Mrs. Fiske saved’

lived his allotted span and expired loved, honored, and respected. With

horses, too, it was just the same. I believe if she were on the way

to a matinée with the house all sold out, and an abused or otherwise

pitiful case of horse attracted her attention,--and it _would_--she

would sacrifice that matinée before she would the horse.”--Griffith.

[176] Mrs. Fiske at one time was fond of visiting the motion-picture

theatres, heavily veiled and sitting in the back of the house. The

better grade of foreign films interested her. And she has recently

shown more broad-mindedness toward a growing art than some actresses

much lower than she in the artistic scale; for she has herself recently

acted _Tess_ and _Becky Sharp_ for the motion-picture camera.

“When attending another theatre, as she sometimes does on a Wednesday

afternoon, she would like, if she could, to occupy an obscure balcony

seat, or at the back downstairs; but if that is not feasible, and a box

must be taken, she generally ensconces herself behind the drapery, in

as inconspicuous a place as possible. There is absolutely nothing of

the spectacular or ‘theatrical’ about Mrs. Fiske.”--Griffith.

[177] “During a rehearsal her poodle entered the theatre and calmly

and unconsciously crossed the stage, keeping at a respectful distance

from her, however, only condescending to notice her mistress with

a side glance. This was so contrary to her customary dashing and

bounding approach, that Mrs. Fiske stopped the rehearsal and called to

Fifi to come to her. But not Fifi; she merely glanced and continued

her dignified and stately promenade across the stage. Persistently

and with authority Mrs. Fiske ordered the queenly Fifi to approach.

Not for Hecuba--no approach, only a pause. Mohammed must go to the

mountain, and Mrs. Fiske did the approaching. Did Fifi grin, or what

did the slight gleam of white teeth portend? It was merely the flash of

lightning, for the thunder came soon after in a low growl of defiance.

Never had such a thing happened before. This impromptu play was good,

with Mrs. Fiske at her best, and the audience of actors stood by

immensely interested. With tragic emphasis Mrs. Fiske stamped her foot

and, pointing in the direction of her dressing room, ordered the black

woolly beast to begone and quit her sight, to let the dressing room

hide her, and a few things like that, and added something about Fifi’s

bones being marrowless and her blood cold, and about the absence of

speculation in her eyes which she did glare with. Just then Mr. Gilmore

remarked: ‘That’s not Fifi--that’s my dog Genie.’ Laughter--quick

curtain.”--Griffith.

[178] “When a series of one-night stands was being played--and she has

a perfectly frantic fondness for them--it was our custom to charter a

Pullman, as she lived in the car instead of in hotels.... This she most

urgently requested to have placed ‘_not_ at the end of the train.’ The

rear-end collision had mortal terrors for her.... The same nervous fear

applied to non-fireproof hotels, in any of which Mrs. Fiske will not go

above the second story.... Mrs. Fiske appears never to weary of travel,

and while she objects to starts ranging from five to ten o’clock A.M.,

an earlier or later leaving hour does not disturb her; in fact, she

says she rarely falls asleep until near morning. We had a prohibition

against ringing the berth bells before ten A.M., and also against any

kind of alarm clock.... Very rarely Mrs. Fiske went to the dining car

in the train, her dislike for making herself conspicuous being very

marked. This modesty was exemplified in her fondness for veils, as she

always wore at least one, and more generally two.... Her unceasing

employment of time when on tour is in study. It is a never-ending

labor, and one that evidently delights her. The preparation for things

to come--perhaps a year or more ahead--is always in her mind.... During

all my time [thirteen years] with Mrs. Fiske she never lost a single

night from illness.”--Griffith.

[179] On Ninth Street, between Vine and Race.

[180] According to an interview with Mrs. Hess, printed in 1897 in the

Cincinnati _Commercial Tribune_.

[181] She was also Myrene in _Pygmalion and Galatea_ and Stephen in

_The Hunchback_.

[182] Miss Dow was for many years known as the aunt of Miss Marlowe.

There was no actual relationship; but by legal agreement or otherwise

Miss Marlowe was an “adopted niece” of the older woman. Miss Dow’s

interest in her young charge was, naturally, not wholly altruistic.

That is, there was a signed agreement by virtue of which Miss Dow

was to share heavily in any earnings of Miss Marlowe for a term of

years after the début, and was to have a voice in the management of

her affairs. After the actress’ emergence in 1887 as Julia Marlowe,

however, Miss Dow’s management continued for only a few years. There

was even newspaper talk of Miss Marlowe’s having “thrown over” her

guide and friend, after she began to meet success. Miss Dow became Mrs.

Currier. Her training of Fanny Brough started her on a long career as a

dramatic teacher, in which capacity she was active as recently as the

autumn of 1915.

[183] Juliet in _Romeo and Juliet_, Julia in _The Hunchback_, Parthenia

in _Ingomar_, Pauline in _The Lady of Lyons_ and Galatea in _Pygmalion

and Galatea_.

[184] “Whole plays were rehearsed. The instructor served both as

audience and prompter. She read all the parts save the heroine’s.

Scenery and the position of the other players were indicated by tables

and chairs. When _Romeo and Juliet_ was rehearsed, the back of a

venerable haircloth sofa was the balcony rail. With her chin resting

upon it and her gaze fixed tenderly upon a worn place in the carpet,

she first recited Juliet’s impassioned good-night to her lover.”

[185] On the twentieth. How old was Julia Marlowe on this important

day of her life? The date of her birth has been variously given, and

authority might be found for any year between 1864 and 1870. As a

matter of fact, the Register of Baptisms of the Parish of Caldbeck

shows that she was baptized September 23, 1866. Thus she was at least

twenty-one at the time of her début, though she was popularly supposed

to be about eighteen.

[186] Besides other things, Colonel Ingersoll said: “To retain the

freshness that is her greatest charm she will have to ... pay no

attention to the critics. Her talent needs no guide save that afforded

by her experience and her own mentality.” One Alfred Ayres, writing to

the editor of the New York _Dramatic Mirror_, voiced the protest that

was felt in many quarters against Colonel Ingersoll’s kindly meant

over-enthusiasm: “What nonsense clever men do sometimes talk, when

they talk about things they know little or nothing about!... There is

not a novice in America more in need of guidance than is Miss Julia

Marlowe. To let her go her own way would be to let her go to ruin.

She is already on the high-road to becoming merely coy, coddling, and

goody-goody.” Colonel Ingersoll became Miss Marlowe’s personal friend.

At least one summer she spent with his family.

[187] Beginning with her New York début in 1887, Julia Marlowe’s

first appearances in her various parts were as follows: Parthenia in

_Ingomar_, Juliet in _Romeo and Juliet_, Viola in _Twelfth Night_,

1887; Julia in _The Hunchback_, Pauline in _The Lady of Lyons_, 1888;

Rosalind in _As You Like It_, Galatea in _Pygmalion and Galatea_, 1889;

Beatrice in _Much Ado About Nothing_, 1890; Imogen in _Cymbeline_,

Charles Hart in _Rogues and Vagabonds_, 1891; Constance in _The Love

Chase_, 1893; Letitia Hardy in _The Belle’s Stratagem_, Chatterton in

_Chatterton_, Lady Teazle in _The School for Scandal_, 1894; Colombe in

_Colombe’s Birthday_, Prince Hal in _Henry IV_, Kate Hardcastle in _She

Stoops to Conquer_, 1895; Lydia Languish in _The Rivals_ (supplementary

spring season, with “all-star cast”), Romola in _Romola_, 1896; Mary in

_For Bonnie Prince Charlie_, The Countess in _The Countess Valeska_,

1897; Colinette in _Colinette_, Barbara in _Barbara Frietchie_, 1899;

Mary Tudor in _When Knighthood Was in Flower_, 1901; Fiametta in

_The Queen Fiametta_, Charlotte Oliver in _The Cavalier_, 1902; Lady

Barchester in _Fools of Nature_, 1903; Ophelia in _Hamlet_, 1904;

Katherine in _The Taming of the Shrew_, Portia in _The Merchant of

Venice_, 1905; Salome in _John the Baptist_, Jeanne in _Jeanne d’Arc_,

Rautendelein in _The Sunken Bell_, 1906; Madonna Gloria in _Gloria_,

Yvette in _The Goddess of Reason_, 1908; Cleopatra in _Antony and

Cleopatra_, 1909; Lady Macbeth in _Macbeth_, 1910.

[188] For Henry IV Mr. and Mrs. Taber had to learn to wear armor. They

used genuine armor, and to accustom themselves to it they wore it for

hours each day in their apartments.

[189] Frank Howe, of the Walnut Street Theatre, Philadelphia.

[190] She obtained a divorce in January, 1900. Four years later Taber

died, of tuberculosis, “at a refuge in the Adirondack Mountains,

provided for him,--for he had been rendered practically destitute by

illness--through the goodness of his former wife.” (Winter.)

[191] In the season of 1895–96 during the “Mr. and Mrs. Taber” period,

they had played with some success at Wallack’s, practically her first

down-town engagement since the début in 1887. It was during this

engagement that William Dean Howells wrote enthusiastic praise of her

Juliet.

[192] This memorable alliance first went into effect in Chicago,

September 19, 1904, at the Illinois Theatre. It continued for three

seasons, after which, during the seasons of 1907–8 and 1908–9, each

again headed separate companies. In 1909 they rejoined forces, and

continued to act together until the spring of 1914, when Miss Marlowe

was taken sick, and Mr. Sothern continued alone. At this time it was

announced that Miss Marlowe had retired from the stage for good. There

was subsequently some talk of a farewell tour, but Miss Marlowe’s

retirement was definitely confirmed in the summer of 1915. As everyone

knows, the two stars became man and wife. The marriage occurred in

London, in 1911.

[193] Mr. Walkley wrote in _The Times_ an eloquent tribute to

her Viola, which he found “bewitching.” “In the purely sensuous

element in Shakespeare, in the poet’s picture of frankly joyous and

full-blooded womanhood, the actress is in her element, mistress

of her part, revelling in it and swaying the audience by an

irresistible charm. She aims at no startling ‘effects’; she seems

to be simply herself--herself, that is, glorified by the romance of

the part--enjoying the moment for the moment’s sake, and so making

the moment a sheer enjoyment for the spectator. That is now clearly

shown which in her earlier parts could only be divined--that here is a

genuine individuality, a temperament of real force and peculiar charm.

High-arched brows over wide-open, eloquent eyes; a most expressive

mouth, now roguish with mischief, now trembling with passion; a voice

with a strange croon in it, with sudden breaks and sobs--these, of

course, are purely physical qualifications which an actress might have

and yet not greatly move us. But behind these things in Miss Marlowe

there is evidently an alert intelligence, a rare sense of humor and

a nervous energy which make, with her more external qualities, a

combination really fine. She beguiled not only Olivia, but the whole

house to admiration. Here, then, is one of Shakespeare’s true women.”

[194] Elizabeth McCracken.

[195] One can doubt the _entire_ truth of this statement without

denying the larger truths lying in her general statement.

[196] James Kiskadden died when Maude was ten years old.

[197] In San Francisco.

[198] Acton Davies--_Maude Adams_.

[199] Part of the time, at least, Mrs. Adams substituted herself for

Maude when the time for this plunge arrived.

[200] “Yes, I confess it,” she has declared, “I was in the ballet

for six brief months. There is much to be learned there, and some

the ballet’s teachings may be advantageously applied to the art of

acting. Studied forms of dancing are not, perhaps, an essential part

of a player’s outfit, but they have a certain related value not to be

lightly esteemed.”--Perriton Maxwell.

[201] Perriton Maxwell. Her parts in Mr. Sothern’s company were: Louisa

in _The Highest Bidder_, and Jessie Deane in _Lord Chumley_.

[202] Produced at Palmer’s Theatre, New York, October 3, 1892. It was a

French play, adapted by Clyde Fitch.

[203] Her parts were: Suzanne in _The Masked Ball_, 1892; Miriam in

_The Butterflies_, 1894; Jessie Keber in _The Bauble Shop_, 1894;

Marion in _That Imprudent Young Couple_, 1895; Dora in _Christopher,

Jr._, 1895; Adeline Dennant in _The Squire of Dames_, 1896; Dorothy

Cruikshank in _Rosemary_, August, 1896. On December 9, 1896, she played

Mary Verner in _Too Happy by Half_.

[204] The plays and parts of Maude Adams’ “stardom” are as follows:

Lady Babbie in _The Little Minister_, 1897; Mrs. Hilary in _Mrs. Hilary

Regrets_ (special performance, with John Drew), 1897; Juliet in _Romeo

and Juliet_ (supplementary spring season), 1899; Duke of Reichstadt

in _L’Aiglon_, 1900; Phœbe Throssell in _Quality Street_, 1901;

Pepita in _The Pretty Sister of José_, 1903; Amanda Affleck in _’Op

O’ Me Thumb_ (in one act), 1905; _Peter Pan_, 1905; Viola in _Twelfth

Night_ (at Harvard), 1908; Chicot in _The Jesters_, 1908; Maggie

Wylie in _What Every Woman Knows_, 1908; Joan of Arc in _The Maid of

Orleans_ (at Harvard), 1909; Rosalind in _As You Like it_ (University

of California), 1910; _Chanticler_, 1911; Leonora in _The Legend of

Leonora_, 1913. This list does not include revivals.

[205] _The Wallet of Time_, vol. II.

[206] “Children, corsets and cigars were named after her;--as a matter

of fact I know one ten-year-old child who has thirteen dolls, and every

one of them bears the same identical name, Maude Adams.”--Acton Davies.

[207] Prepared by Louis N. Parker and Edward Rose.

[208] “She was at her best in the scene of supplication and childlike

blandishment with the old Austrian Emperor. The vein of Miss Adams

is domestic and romantic--not tragic. She carried the second act of

the play with sustained vivacity and gratifying skill. Possessed of

a gentle personality and capable of a piquant behavior, Miss Adams

was a sprightly and bonnie lass in _The Little Minister_, and that

performance furnished the measure of her ability. As Reichstadt she

gave an intelligent performance, on a commonplace level.”--William

Winter, _The Wallet of Time_.

[209] William Winter. His appreciation of some qualities of the

impersonation did not prevent his saying: “Pepita, as impersonated by

Miss Adams, was a tenuous damsel, of peevish aspect, who closed her

teeth and spoke through them, producing, at times, a strange, nasal

sound, as of a sheep bleating.”

[210] “At the moment when Maggie destroys Shand’s written promise of

marriage and again at the moment when she gazes on the beauty who has

bewitched her husband, Miss Adams attained to the loftiest height she

has reached, in the expression of feeling.”--_The Wallet of Time._

[211] And indicates also, in the same people, a lamentably restricted

judgment of the artistic side of what they see on the stage.

[212] Frederic Dean has given one or two cases of her bounty: “There

used to be an old doorkeeper at the stage entrance of the Empire

Theatre. One day he was taken sick and his place was filled by another.

Miss Adams learned that the old chap had lost his position and made a

hurried search for him, tracing him, at last, to an East Side tenement.

It was long after midnight when she found him. He was very ill and was

being taken care of by his faithful wife as best she could. Doctors

and nurses were immediately summoned and every possible comfort

provided; and the next morning, and the next, and the next came Lady

Bountiful--and every day, until the sufferer died a month later.

“For sixteen years Robert Eberle was in Charles Frohman’s employ as

business manager. One year, late in the season, he was taken ill and

left in a hospital in South Bend, Indiana. Miss Adams was playing in

the West at the time, and hearing of Mr. Eberle’s illness--though

several hundred miles from the hospital--left her company on Saturday

night, went to South Bend, spent Sunday at the sick man’s bedside, and,

leaving orders for the best of medical treatment, returned to her work

just in time to dress for her part on Monday night.”

[213] Ethel Barrymore was born at Philadelphia, August 15, 1879. Her

mother was the actress, Georgie Drew-Barrymore.

[214] Margaret Anglin was born at Ottawa, April 2, 1876. Her father was

Speaker of the Canadian House of Commons, and her brother was Chief

Justice.

[215] Alla Nazimova was born at Yalta, Crimea, Russia, June 4, 1879.

[216] Edith Wynne Matthison was born at Birmingham, England.

[217] Grace George was born at New York City, December 25, 1879.

[218] Following the American production, Miss George played _Divorçons_

in London.

[219] Laura Hope Crews was born at San Francisco.

[220] Besides Miss Russell, Miss O’Neil, Miss Stahl and Miss Crosman,

these are some of the American actresses of the closing years of the

nineteenth century and the early years of the twentieth century, who

merit more notice than can be given them here, but whose achievements

are recorded in the books named in the bibliography: Viola Allen, Julia

Arthur, Blanche Bates, Amelia Bingham, Clara Bloodgood, Mrs. Leslie

Carter, Rose Coghlan, Ida Conquest, Maxine Elliott, Virginia Harned,

Isabel Irving, May Irwin, Mary Mannering, Clara Morris, Eleanor Robson,

Effie Shannon, Mary Shaw and Blanche Walsh. Some in this list, like

Miss Irwin, Miss Coghlan and Miss Shannon, are, happily, still active.

And Miss Arthur announces her return to the stage.

[221] Rutland to Nethersole.

[222] 1629.

[223] Women acted in Italy as early as 1560, and actresses appeared in

France probably not much later. The earliest French actress of whom

there is definite record is Marie Vernier, who acted in Paris, in her

husband’s company, in 1599. In Spain the practice of substituting boys

and men in women’s parts seems never to have obtained. Going back to

antiquity, it is to be noted that while the Greeks never tolerated

actresses on their stage, in Rome occasional women players were by no

means unknown.

[224] In the interim D’Avenant had ingeniously circumvented the

restrictions placed by Cromwell’s government on the theatres, by

devising a species of opera. They were really plays, in the grand

style, modeled after Italian pieces, and with a musical accompaniment

to take the curse off. In one of these, _The Siege of Rhodes_,

performed in 1656, two women, Mrs. Edward Coleman and another, played

Ianthe and Roxalana.

[225] Thomas Jordan’s prologue shows that the “boys” were now sometimes

dangerously near middle age:

“Our ‘women’ are defective, and so sized,

You’d think they were some of the guard disguised;

For, to speak truth, men act, that are between

Forty and fifty, wenches of fifteen;

With bone so large, and nerve so incompliant,

When you call DESDEMONA, enter GIANT.”

“Old Chetwood tells a story which amply illustrates the absurdity of

the ‘men-actresses.’ King Charles II, he says, coming to the theatre

to see _Hamlet_ and being kept waiting for some time, sent the Earl of

Rochester behind to see what was causing the delay. He returned with

the information that ‘the Queen was not quite shaved.’ ‘Odsfish!’ said

the King. ‘I beg her Majesty’s pardon. We’ll wait till her barber has

done with her.’”--Lowe’s _Betterton_.

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