The Mormons and the Theatre Part 9

They had taken a room together in old man McDonald's house, just under the shadow of St. Mark's church, and everything went well for a little while--but by some inadvertence the good Mr. McDonald discovered that they had not secured the necessary license for rooming together, and he very promptly and perhaps rudely gave them notice to vacate. They thought the old man was a crank and quite unreasonable, to turn them out of his house for such a slight offense, in a community where many of the men were living with a plurality of wives. They had an idea it was a sort of Oneida community here; free love, etc. They secured another lodging house, but the lady who ran that was a very strict Mormon also, and so soon as she found out how matters stood she served them with a notice to quit. "Jimmy" got a "hunch" from some one that he would have to _marry_ Annie or sever the alliance altogether, as the Mormons would not stand for anything of this kind. It was even intimated to him that he might be indicted for _lascivious cohab_, which so terrified him that he suddenly ceased his relations.h.i.+p with Annie altogether, and left her to paddle her own canoe. Those who were acquainted with the circ.u.mstances have always blamed Harris for his treatment of Annie Ward; he should have married her, was their thought, but he turned away from her in this time of mutual trouble.

His offense was condoned, and gradually he worked himself into favor until he became quite an object of interest with the ladies about the theatre, while those same ladies turned up their noses at Miss Ward, and made it so unpleasant for her, that she was glad to terminate her engagement long before the season was over, and go back to her former haunts. Poor girl! She went down hill rapidly after returning and died wretchedly in St. Louis a year or so later, while Harris remained here, married one of Brigham Young's daughters and was given the management of the theatre, which he held for several years. Harris and his wife went to New York in about '80, where they have resided ever since. "Jimmy," who has wealthy relatives there, has a good easy position and raised a nice family of four or five children, to whom he has bequeathed his real name of Ferguson, that of Harris being merely adopted to hide him from his relatives while he was a profane stage player. So runs the wheel of fortune.

Hamlet. I did love you once.

Ophelia. Indeed, my honored lord, you made me believe so.

Hamlet. You should not have believed me; for virtue can not so inoculate our old stock but we shall relish of it. I loved you not.

Ophelia. I was the more deceived.

Hamlet. Get thee to a nunnery.

--Shakespeare.

On November 8th Mr. Al Thorne was added to the stock company and made his first appearance in the play of "Maud's Peril." Al Thorne came to Utah as a soldier in Johnston's army. He was a member of the Camp Floyd Theatre company and played with d.i.c.k White, Mrs. Tuckett et al.

He contrived in some way to remain in Utah when the Civil War broke out, instead of following "the uncertain chance of war." He had married and settled in the north part of the territory, and was a.s.sociated with the Richmond Dramatic Company for several years and now found a place in the Salt Lake stock, where he remained for several years, doing excellent work in "heavies" and "old men." Thorne joined the Mormon church and got more family than he could take care of--two families in fact, which proved his ruin. He became estranged from them both, and for the last twenty years of his life was practically an exile, living a solitary life in the mining camps of Nevada. He died three years ago at De Lamar, Nevada, a prematurely old man, with no relative near. But Al always had friends, for he was a good natured, generous hearted man--his own worst enemy. "Requiescat in pace."

George Chaplin having exhausted his extensive and variegated repertory, and taken his departure for pastures new, the stock company, with Clara Jean Walters, played through the October conference. The very palpable weakness occasioned by Chaplin's retirement was filled by F. M. Bates, who with his wife and Baby Blanche had been rusticating in the vicinity ever since their engagement in the previous May. Bates opened on the 14th of October, as joint star with Miss Walters, and continued until November 21st, the only interruption being a three nights' engagement of the Australian actor, James J. Bartlett, who gave "David Garrick," "New Magdalen," and "Married for Money."

On November 25th Mrs. Bates opened her second engagement at this theatre, supported by her husband (Frank), Miss Walters and the stock company. She played two weeks, repeating mostly her favorite roles, "Elizabeth," "Lucretia Borgia," "Camille," etc. Mrs. Bates during the time her husband, Frank, had been playing with the stock company, had played an engagement with John Piper, the Virginia City manager.

Returning here she sent ahead of her to exploit her return engagement Mr. John Maguire, who has since made a name as a theatrical manager, but who was then a very enthusiastic disciple of Thespis, and was ambitious to make a mark in the histrionic art. Maguire by his own confession had been educated for the Catholic priesthood, and certainly a good priest was spoiled when John turned Thespian, but the stage fever caught him, and struck in so deep that he was irrevocably lost to a profession which he was capable of adorning, and exposed "to the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune" that are generally in quiver to be hurled at the unfortunate actor or manager who does not achieve an unqualified success. At the time of which I write, 1872, John Maguire was young (about 30, eh, John?), and handsome; he was often mistaken for Lawrence Barrett, the tragedian, which was a flattering compliment to John, as he was a very great admirer of "Larry" Barrett. We don't know just how it came about, but he was cast in Mrs. Bates' opening performance of "Elizabeth" for the part of the young Scottish king, James VI, unless it was that he had played it in Virginia City with the lady, and she thought he looked the part so well. Any way the company was numerous and the managers let John out after his performance of King James. The week following the Bates engagement, there being no star attraction booked, the managers gave it to the writer, who had not been playing in the stock company that season. I arranged a repertoire for the week which included "The Duke's Motto," "Macbeth," "Louis XI," "The Stranger," "Jack Cade," and "The Three Guardsmen." A very ambitious attempt, as I view it now, but all parts that I was "up" in, having played them in the company before. While rehearsing before I opened, Maguire, who was out of a job and evidently out of money, come to me and in a very friendly and confidential way informed me that he had just received the bells. "The bells?" I inquired, "what bells?" "Why Henry Irving's Bells, that has just completed a year's run in London." "Take my advice, John," said he, "take down some of those 'old' chestnuts you have billed and put on 'The Bells' for two nights in their place and you'll be money in by it." "Oh, that's impossible," I objected, "my plans for the week are arranged and cast, besides I know nothing about the play of The Bells.'" Maguire was earnest, however, for he had a point to make, so he urged me to make a change. "I have two printed copies of the play,"

says he, "and will let you have them and copy the remainder of the parts for you for $10. I want to get to Pioche; things are booming there and I am short of money; you can advertise the wonderful run the play has had in London, and you'll be the first to play it west of New York, where Studley is playing it now." John arguments prevailed with me and I took down "Louis XI" and "The Strangers" and put up "The Bells" for the Wednesday and Thursday nights. Maguire delivered the goods, got his money and took the stage for Pioche. Bidding me good bye and good luck, he says, "There's a theatre down there, and if I can secure it, you will hear from me before long." "The Bells" gave me the hardest day's study I ever did; playing "Macbeth" the night before and staying out later than was discreet, I was reading "Mathias" at rehearsal next morning to play that night, but we got through it fairly well, and to my surprise the local papers praised the performance highly next morning, but "The Bells" did not prove the great drawing card Maguire had so sanguinely predicted, the older and better known plays drawing better.

On Friday evening, while playing "Jack Cade," a few of my admirers sent up a request to have me play "Oth.e.l.lo" on the following night instead of "The Guardsmen," with Mr. F. M. Bates as Oth.e.l.lo, Mrs.

Bates as Emelia and myself as Iago. I should have promptly decided not to make the change, but nothing in the way of work seemed too onerous for me, and too willing to oblige, I sent back word that if they could get Mr. and Mrs. Bates to volunteer I would make the change. Some of them waited on the Bateses with the result that Mrs. Bates declined to be Emelia, and Mr. Bates had never played Oth.e.l.lo, but would play Iago if I would do Oth.e.l.lo. I was in Mr. Bates' fix, having played Iago several times but never Oth.e.l.lo. However, I consented to try it and gave myself another hard day's study to get perfect in Oth.e.l.lo. Next morning Sloan, in the Herald, roasted me for playing a "star" part like Oth.e.l.lo in stock costumes, notwithstanding I had been wearing stock costumes all the week. He spoke rather favorably of my acting, however, which was more than I should have expected. I would not be nearly so accommodating now. This my first "stellar" engagement closed on December 14th, 1872. The record shows that the farce of "The Spectre Bridegroom" was played after Oth.e.l.lo, with Phil Margetts in his great part of Diggory. In those "palmy days of the drama," it was quite usual to have a farce after a five-act tragedy. On benefit occasions not infrequently there would be a long play, then an olio of singing and a fancy dance, and a farce to close the "evening's entertainment."

During this engagement Clara Jean Walters played the leading female roles, and rendered effective support, as indeed she always did. She was the most capable and versatile "leading lady" the stock company ever had and remained with it for several seasons a well-established favorite.

Carl Bosco, a very clever magician, put in two nights following the Lindsay engagement, 16th and 17th, and Mrs. Chanfrau opened the 19th inst. for two nights and appeared in "A Wife's Ordeal" and "The Honeymoon." On the 26th John T. Raymond opened a two weeks'

engagement, giving "Toodles," "Only a Jew," "Rip Van Winkle," and "The Cricket on the Hearth." Johnny Allen and Alice Harrison and "Little Mac" for three nights. These parties put in from January 6th to the 15th. Johnny Allen and Alice Harrison were a great attraction in those days; how many remember them now? And "Little Mac," that homely dwarf, what wonderful stunts he could do with those stunted legs of his!--a circus in himself was Little Mac.

On the 20th of January William J. Cogswell joined the stock as leading man, Miss Walters still retaining position of leading lady. A Miss Florence Kent (Mrs. McCabe) had been added to the company, and being pet.i.te and good looking, as well as talented, Miss Walters saw a chance to gratify a long-cherished ambition, which was to play Romeo.

(She would show some of us men folks how to make love.) So the piece was put up with Miss Walters as Romeo and Kent as Juliet; they made a pretty couple. Miss Walters looked very das.h.i.+ng, being a nice size for Romeo, but making love to one of her own s.e.x was not such an easy task as she imagined and although it was a very fair "Romeo and Juliet," it did not make so great a mark as many of her female performances. The stock with the new leading man, Cogswell, played along till February 3rd, when Yankee Robinson came in for a week in "Sam Patch" and "The Days of '76," February 3rd to the 8th inst.

CHAPTER XVII

SEASON OF '72-'73.--CONTINUED.

Before this time John Maguire had been heard from; he had found on his arrival at Pioche that there was some sort of a theatre there. It had been built for a minstrel company of whom Harry Larraine, formerly of the Fort Douglas band, was the leader. At the expiration of the minstrel engagement, Maguire secured the theatre when he immediately set about to put a dramatic company in there. He telegraphed for Mr.

and Mrs. Bates, offering them a strong inducement to go there. He also telegraphed for the writer, offering him a salary that was sufficient inducement for him to go. John W. Dunne, a young Californian, who had been in the Salt Lake Theatre company, was also engaged. Our fares were arranged for and about the middle of January this nucleus for a dramatic company left Salt Lake City for Pioche for a six weeks'

engagement. Our party consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Bates, Baby Bates (Blanche), the now famous actress, who was then about a year and a half old; Mrs. Bates' sister, Miss Wren, who acted as the chief nurse, and Mr. John W. Dunne. It is a matter well worthy of record that Mr.

Dunne was married the night before he left for Pioche, to Miss Clara Decker, a niece of Brigham Young, a very pretty and attractive girl, who had been a.s.sistant costumer in the ladies' department of the theatre for some time. It was of course, a great trial to the young couple to have to part so soon, after one brief night of married life, but the exigencies of the theatrical business are at times merciless.

As they had been engaged for some time, it was decided when Mr. Dunne accepted the Pioche engagement, that it would be best for them to get married before he went away lest absence and distance might cause one or both to change their minds. How wise a precaution this proved the sequel will show. This proved to be a memorable trip. Every member of the party will remember that trip to their dying day except Blanche, and she was too young to remember anything about it. The schedule time from Salt Lake to Pioche was fifty-five hours. We were five days and nights, or one hundred and twenty-five hours making that journey. The Utah Southern was then running only as far as York, about seventy-five miles south of Salt Lake. This left two hundred and seventy-five miles to be traveled by stage. Our stage was not a Concord, but a rather dilapidated specimen of the "jerkie" or "mud wagon." It had seating accommodations for nine persons, and two could ride on the "boot" with the driver. There were two male pa.s.sengers in addition to our party of six--six counting Baby Bates, who must be figured in as one, for although quite small, she was very much in evidence throughout that journey. One of the gentlemen rode most of the time on the "boot" and occasionally one or another of the men would take a spell on the driver's seat so that we were never crowded uncomfortably; yet, oh, how tired we did get and especially the ladies, before that ride was ended. It was the 18th of January, the weather very pleasant but very cold nights, and our first night on the stage was decidedly uncomfortable. We reached the terminus of the railroad, York, about noon, ate dinner in a shack of a restaurant and started on our stage ride about two p. m. We were not long in discovering that there was something the matter with the horses. The driver, in answer to our queries, informed us that they were all suffering from the epizootic; it was getting awful bad, he explained, "don't believe we've got a horse on the line that is free from it." We agreed with him that it was awful bad. The poor beasts coughed and sneezed continuously, throwing off effluvium, the odor of which was disagreeable in the extreme. On our second day out a regular January thaw set in and the snow melted so rapidly that the roads got very bad; a number of times the men had to get out and walk, and on several occasions the well named "mud wagon" got mired so deeply and the horses were so weak, we had to get a fence pole from the neighboring fence and lift the wheels out of the holes, the horses being unable to budge the old coach. The further south we got the worse the roads got. We had to change the horses about every twenty miles, but they were all alike, weak and dispirited, and the stench about the stables at the different stations was nauseating. On the fifth day out we arrived at the last station.

Between it and the mining camp there was a hard mountain to climb and the snow was falling thick and fast. It was then well on to sunset and to our keen disappointment the station man and driver decided it would be folly to try to get over the "divide" in that storm, and that we would have to remain at the station until morning. Here was an unlooked for and unpleasant predicament, but there was no help for it, and it was better than getting stuck on the "divide" in a heavy snowstorm. The hostler was a good natured fellow and tried in his homely way to reconcile us to our fate. "I ain't got so very much grub here and what there is ain't very dainty, I 'low, especially for the ladies, but such as it is you're welcome to, and you can have a good fire, and if youse want to stretch yourselves out after supper, I can rake up quite a few blankets and laprobes, and ye can lie down when youse tired of settin' 'round the fire." The odor of the stable from the epizootic was almost sickening and the thoughts of eating there was anything but cheering, but we were all hungry, almost famished, having had nothing since breakfast. So we made the best of it. The hostler hustled in great shape, the presence of the ladies and the baby inspiring him to extra exertions in our behalf. He soon had a big pot of coffee and a pan full of bacon cooking, and he had to make some bread too, in which Mrs. Bates and her sister lent him their a.s.sistance. The quickest thing he suggested was slapjacks, and we all agreed to the quickest thing, and so before long we were all partaking with what relish we could of the hostler's coffee, slapjacks and bacon, and, notwithstanding the disagreeable odor of the stable, we all contrived to satisfy our hunger. After the hostler cook had cleaned away the few tin plates and cups, he proceeded to strew the end of the little "hostler's room" farthest from the stove with a diversity of blankets and laprobes, all of which were permeated with the odor of the stable, and suggested in his rough but kindly way "that we had better stretch ourselves on the floor as it was a long time till morning" and he knew "we must be pooty darn tired a ridin'

so long in the coach." Mrs. Bates and her sister would have preferred sitting up if they only had comfortable chairs, but there was nothing but a rough bench and a couple of rough stools in the place and the majority of the men had been standing about or sitting on the floor all through the supper function and sleep gradually overpowered the party, and one by one they "knit up the raveled sleeve of care" and were glad to bunk down on the uninviting bed the kindly hostler had improvised for the occasion. In less than an hour after our sumptuous repast, the entire party were in the arms of Morpheus. The women and the baby Blanche were in the most secluded corner, then Frank Bates, John Dunne and myself stretched out on the hospitable blankets. These took all the s.p.a.ce and the two strangers and the driver wrapped up in their overcoats and betook themselves to the portion of the floor unoccupied; this was close around the stove. The floor of that hostler's room was literally covered with the sleepy travelers. It was a change of position and measurably restful, but our sleep was broken and anything but sweet, even though it was the "innocent sleep." The constant coughing of the poor, afflicted horses and the peculiar and disagreeable odor of the epizootic, rendered sleep anything but delightful, but "necessity knows no law," and in spite of all the disadvantages we managed to s.n.a.t.c.h some repose from the "chief nourisher in life's feast." Unenviable as was our position in the hostler's room on this memorable night, it would have been much worse had we undertaken to cross the mountain. Snow was falling thick and fast, and the wind blowing hard enough to be very disagreeable. After we were all asleep, or apparently so, the hostler shoved a stick of wood in the stove which was getting cold, and then turned into the hayloft to get a little sleep himself, for he had to be astir before daylight. Before daybreak the storm had spent itself and the sun rose bright and cheerful, mountain and vale deeply covered with snow. Our breakfast, which the hostler prepared while the driver was feeding and watering the horses, was exactly the same as we had for supper: coffee, slapjacks and bacon, with the addition of some tea which one of our fellow pa.s.sengers prepared for himself and the ladies. It was a sample package he had and cost him, he solemnly declared, $5.00 a pound. This gave an extra flavor to it no doubt, at all events the ladies declared it was fine and we did not doubt its being more to their taste than the coffee the good hostler provided. Breakfast over, we once more clambered into the shaky old jerkie with the admonition from the driver that we men would have to walk when we came to the steep places. We thanked the kindly hostler and invited him to come to the show when we got to playing in Pioche. The snow was six or eight inches deep and even on the gradual ascent, as we started up the grade, it was all the horses could do to pull us, and the snow soon began to melt and the road to get steeper. It was evident we men would have to foot it, and most of the way to the top, and so we got out one or two at a time till we were all walking and occasionally we had to give a shove on the coach to help the willing but weakly horses get to the top. Once there we were all very glad to get in; we were not long in rattling along the down grade into Pioche, all very glad to get there. Maguire, who had been impatiently expecting us for two days, was overjoyed to see us, for he was full of expectations as to the business we were going to do. He had secured us the best hotel accommodations the camp afforded, and they were duly appreciated after our recent experience at the station.

After dinner we all took a walk with Maguire at his invitation, to see the theatre where we were to play our six weeks engagement. The building stood back from the princ.i.p.al street which was built right in the ravine, the stage entrance facing the street, and the entrance for the audience facing the street above. We had ventured various conjectures in reference to this theatre that the always over sanguine Maguire had secured a lease of. We had not expected very much and yet we were disappointed. We all entered at the stage door which opened directly from a flight of steps onto the back of the stage, and as we beheld the wonderful temple of Thespus, where we were to do honor to his art, the exclamations that escaped us were not well calculated to enthuse John Maguire, but rather to make him feel a little shaky about the venture he was making. Ye G.o.ds! What a transition from the Salt Lake Theatre to this shack! The theatre was about 35x75 feet, the stage occupying twenty-five feet. The orchestra floor for reserved seats ran from the stage towards the front about 15 feet. The rest of the s.p.a.ce was fitted with rough board seats a la circus, the natural declivity of the ground giving the seats the necessary pitch for the audience to see the stage. The walls of the building were of rough pine boards about ten feet in height and the entire auditorium was roofed in with ducking or light canvas. The stage part was roofed with s.h.i.+ngles so as to preserve the scenery from the rain. Of scenery there was a very limited supply and that not very artistic, being painted by an amateur. The stage projected beyond the curtain some six feet and on each side of this ap.r.o.n or projecting stage was a private box, finished off with cheap wall paper similar to the interior scenes on the stage. These boxes were well patronized. Every night they were filled with the fair, frail denizens of the camp at the rate of $10 a box. The opening play had already been announced, but owing to the lateness of our arrival, was necessarily postponed for a few nights.

Maguire had gotten together some people of more or less experience (mostly less) to fill up the minor parts in the cast. He also took a hand himself and rehearsals were started the same night we arrived.

The opening night came around and the Opera House (that's what John called it) was packed to suffocation. The boxes were filled to overflowing with the swellest looking women in the town. The play was "Camille" and Mrs. Bates had them all shedding tears. The girls in the boxes were deeply affected. Most of them were "like Niobe, all tears,"

but we received no intimation that this powerful sermon of Dumas was instrumental in turning them from their life of shame.

Pioche was a camp of about eight thousand people and was "booming." We played four weeks to good paying business. This fairly exhausted the Bates repertoire, and business began to fall off appreciably. So a farewell benefit was worked up for Mrs. Bates and she made her final appearance at Pioche in a blaze of glory, chiefly emanating from a diamond ring with which she was presented on the memorable occasion as a token of regard to a distinguished actress from a few of her Pioche admirers. The Bateses were fortunate. They had been playing on a large percentage of the gross receipts and had cleared up quite a nice little stake in the four weeks they had played and they struck out at once for San Francisco, and from there went to Australia where, in '78, Frank Bates died, after which Mrs. Bates and Blanche, now a girl of eight, returned to San Francisco in 1880. Maguire still kept myself and Dunne and the rest of the company, thinking that with some new and lighter plays we could still do a paying business. The results were not very satisfactory. We played several weeks in a sort of spasmodic way, and then organized a little traveling company in which a clever young girl, Maggie Knight, whom Maguire had discovered, was a feature, and we played back to the C. P. R. R. On one of these occasions in Pioche, a very ludicrous thing happened which should not go unrecorded. We were playing the burlesque of "Pocahontas." Maguire was playing Captain John Smith, the writer Powhatan, and Johnny Dunne, as we were short of ladies, was playing Pocahontas. In the scene where Smith is brought in a prisoner and is about to be executed, a catastrophe happened to John Maguire, so sudden and appalling, should he live to be as old as Methusaleh, I doubt if he would ever forget it. Where Smith says, after viewing the stone on which he is to be decapitated,

"It's a hard pill, but a harder piller, Life's a conundrum," and Powhatan replies: "Then lie down and give it up."

Just at this point a sudden scream emanated from one of the boxes, which were well filled on this occasion with the demi monde, then several screams of laughter, then the whole audience began to roar with laughter. I knew something had gone wrong for there was nothing in the text to extort such screams and peals of laughter. I glanced over the group on the stage, and to my amazement I saw Mac's trunks had dropped down to his feet, and he, all unconscious of the fact, was standing there in a pair of thin cotton tights. His knee pants or trunks, were of very light material and the drawstring with which they were fastened around his waist, had given way and they dropped to the floor, and so excited was he in his character he did not notice it. I said to him in _sotto voce_, "Your pants are down." Then he cast his eyes down, and the look of abject despair that came over his face as he said in a subdued tone, "Oh, my G.o.d!" and stopped and pulled the gauzy things up to their place and walked off the stage to readjust them, we can never forget. The girls at this resumed their screams of laughter and the audience roared until they were tired. When the noise subsided, Maguire, with his costume adjusted, came back to finish the scene, but it was several minutes before we could proceed, so much did the audience enjoy this simple accident. Maguire remained in Pioche some time after I left there, and finally left the place worse off by far than when he went there, and I did not see the genial John again till I went to Portland in '78 to play in the New Market theatre of which he was the manager. Just before the departure of Mr. and Mrs.

Bates, John Dunne and myself for Pioche, the Cogswell-Carter company arrived in Salt Lake, having traveled by stage and team from California, playing the towns en route.

This company consisted of J. W. Carter, Carrie Carter, W. J. Cogswell (Carrie's brother), Ed. Harden, Lincoln J. Carter (then a very small boy), and probably one or two others, minor people who did not come into publicity here. On arriving here the party waited upon President Brigham Young to pay their respects, and to inform him that they had been commanded by the spirit world, with which they had been having communications (by the "Planchette" route), to go to Salt Lake and join the Mormon church as that was the true church and the only one that could save them. This told in all apparent sincerity, with the request to be baptized, was altogether a pleasing surprise to Brigham and his counsellors, and the Cogswell-Carter company were warmly welcomed. They were baptized and confirmed into the church without delay, and within a few days they were all engaged at the Salt Lake Theatre. Their coming was very timely for the theatre managers, for they had lost several of their leading people. "Jim" Hardie had gone for good, McKenzie, who had been playing steadily since the opening of the theatre in '62 and was wearied with study, had been released and sent on a mission in the belief the change would benefit him; John Lindsay was off on a "fool's errand" playing for John Maguire in Pioche, and the Cogswell-Carter-Marden accession filled the gap very nicely, and the season progressed to its close without much friction.

During the absence of Mr. Dunne and myself from Salt Lake the following attractions appeared at the theatre. Jean Clara Walters, W.

J. Cogswell and the stock company from February 8th to March 10th, on which date a new play by Edward L. Sloan (then editor of the Salt Lake Herald) was produced. It was ent.i.tled "Stage and Steam." It was intended to show the advance of civilization. It had a railroad scene and a stage coach in it and a sensational saw mill scene, where a man was placed on the log carriage to be sliced into boards, but was rescued just in the nick of time. Jos. Arthur's saw mill scene in "Blue Jeans" is exactly the same thing, although it is scarcely probable that Mr. Arthur ever saw Sloan's play. The play only had two performances. March 10th to 15th, Frank Hussey and Blanche Clifton held the boards in "Hazard" and some other plays. Marion Mordaunt was the next stellar attraction and gave "The Colleen Bawn" and "Hearts are Trumps" the 17th to 10th. On the 24th a star of the first magnitude appeared. It was Augusta Dargon. She opened in "Camille" and played also "Deborah (Leah)," "Lady Macbeth," "Meg Merrilles" and "Lucretia Borgia." Miss Dargon was one of the greatest actresses our country ever produced, but she was not financially successful. She is the only American actress who has ever played Tennyson's "Queen Mary."

Mrs. John Drew made a costly production of this play at the Arch Street Theatre, Philadelphia, with Augusta Dargon as the star during the Centennial. But it was not a financial success. The writer did not meet Miss Dargon till 1878, when she came to the New Market theatre in Portland and played a two weeks' engagement under the management of our old friend John Maguire. Here I had the pleasure (and hard work) of playing the opposite roles to her in her extensive repertory, changing the bill nearly every night during her engagement. Toward the close of it she put up Tennyson's "Queen Mary" in which I had to play King Phillip of Spain on two days' study, a very long, arduous part, that put me on my mettle to master it; also studied and played "Cardinal Wolsey" for the first time during this engagement. Miss Dargon, who was under the management of Henry Greenwald, after her Portland engagement, made a tour of the "sound" playing Tacoma, Seattle, Port Townsend and Victoria, supported by the New Market Theatre company, and returning, played a few more nights in Portland, then took steamer for Australia. Under Mr. Greenwald's management she had played successful engagements both in San Francisco and Portland, and when she opened in Melbourne she just captivated the city, playing extraordinary engagements both there and in Sidney. The press of Australia printed volumes in her praise. She made a great triumph, and in the very flush of her victory, some wealthy Australian captured her. She got married and retired from the stage, and Greenwald was forced to return without her. She never came back to us. Her return engagement here was played before she went to Australia.

Mr. "Bill" Cogswell seemed to have dropped out of the company before Miss Dargon's engagement and consequently David McKenzie was her princ.i.p.al support. After the Dargon engagement, which closed March 29th, Jean Clara Walters, Florence Kent and the stock company played through the April conference without a star attraction, and filled up time to April 28th when for some reason the season closed but was reopened on May 3rd with the stock company who played up to the 6th.

On the 8th of May, Augusta Dargon began a return engagement which lasted till the 15th. She opened in the new play "Unmasked," and repeated "Deborah," "Camille," and "Lady Macbeth," and closed in a new piece "The Rising of the Moon." It speaks highly of Miss Dargon's popularity in Salt Lake that she should play a return engagement in five weeks after her first one.

Blind Tom, the musical prodigy, was the next attraction. He played but one night, May 17th. On the 19th Annette Ince began a return engagement of six nights and a matinee and the record shows a change of play for each performance. She gave "Elizabeth," "Mary Stuart,"

"Medea," "The Hunchback," "The Stranger," "The Honeymoon," and the "Lady of Lyons." This repertory in one week undoubtedly kept the company right busy. Miss Ince was a sterling actress, and always gave satisfaction, but she did not possess the faculty of making your blood thrill in your veins and your hair rise occasionally that Miss Dargon had. It is just a little singular how she came so close on Miss Dargon's heels this time. It seems like poor management to play two lady stars, so nearly alike in repertoire, so close together, but these accidents would happen once in a while. Frank Hussey and Blanche Clifton came back for two nights, May 26th and 27th. Then the stock had to take up the burden again and carry it from May 28th to June 21st. By June 1st John Dunne and the writer had returned from the Pioche trip and were back in their old positions in the company. Dunne had a surprise party in store for him on his return. Instead of being received with open arms and loving embraces by his bride of a night, she coldly repulsed him and refused ever to live with him, and she kept her word. This was owing to things she had heard about John and his freedom with other females while he was at Pioche. This did not discourage Dunne, however, from trying again. He has had several wives since, the best known being Patti Rosa, a talented actress whom he managed and married. Clara, on the other hand, was not inconsolable, and her enchantment with the stage and stage actors having been rather rudely dispelled, she sought "surcease from sorrow" in the affections of a well to do farmer, who has proven more constant, and with whom she has raised a representative Mormon family.

Madam Anna Bishop put in a week of high cla.s.s concert from June the 25th to 30th. On July 2nd John W. Dunne took a benefit, on which occasion we repeated one of our Pioche performances with an important change of cast. "Theresa, or the Cross of Gold" and "Pocahontas" was the bill. Dunne did not find the atmosphere of Salt Lake so congenial to him as it had been and did not remain for the next season. I next met him in Cheyenne in '78. He was married and apparently contented, working at his trade of printer.

The business, after Dunne's benefit, seems to have been spasmodic. The stock kept on playing, however, during the month of July. That it did business at all was remarkable, but there being no "resorts" and the theatre the coolest place in town, in some measure accounts for its keeping open during the torrid heat of the summer.

Weiniawska, the Polish violinist, gave a concert on the 12th. George Waldron and his wife drifted in and played a few nights up to the 17th. Then W. O. Crosbie and his wife, Arrah Crosbie, and James A.

Vinson, drifted in from the northwest and were given a few nights.

"Jim" Vinson was featured in the play of "Quits" and "Billie" Crosbie in some favorite farce, supported by Arrah and the stock company. Both Vinson and Crosbie made a very favorable impression which resulted in them being engaged by the management for the following season. It looked as if all the other theatres in the West had closed and the actors had come trouping to Salt Lake to get summer engagements. Now comes Carrie Cogswell-Carter and the available stock to the front.

They opened on the 26th and played till the 30th, and the season closed.

CHAPTER XVIII.

SEASON OF 73-74.

The season of 73 and '74 was somewhat later than usual in opening. The reasons were, Clawson and Caine had renewed their lease of the theatre, and having done so well with it financially, they were not content to "let well enough alone," but felt that they should make certain imaginary improvements that different wise-acres had suggested, and embellishments commensurate with the liberal patronage they had received during their previous lease of the house.

Accordingly some radical changes were made which cost a plenty of money and made the managers scratch their heads many a time before they were all paid for. As an example of how much costly mischief one interfering "know-it-all" can accomplish, the managers were persuaded by their prospective new stage manager, "Jim" Vinson, that the stage of the theatre did not have sufficient pitch or slope from back to front. It had a slight pitch one-eighth of an inch to the foot, or about eight inches in its entire depth, which was just perceptible, but not sufficient to be particularly noticeable or to render it uncomfortable to walk on or to dance on. But the wisdom of the new stage manager was paramount, and that immense stage whose huge supports were built into the solid stone walls, had to be cut loose from its bearings and the front of it lowered until it had three-eighths of an inch fall to the foot, a slope that made it uncomfortable to walk on, indeed, entering in a hurry, one was quite inclined to slide on. It made it awkward too for stage settings. Every piece of scenery that was set up and down the stage or at any angle save that paralleling the front curtain, was thrown out of the perpendicular that is so essential to make the scenery look well. At the very time that this alleged improvement was being made, the pitching or sloping stage (once thought to add perspective to the scenery) was obsolete and all the new theatres in the country were being built with level stages. It cost hundreds of dollars to make this change and instead of being an improvement it was a positive detriment, is still, and always will be. So much for the advice of a stage manager. The proscenium doors that had been used for coming in front of the curtain, were done away with and the present boxes put in their stead, a very sensible and profitable improvement. Something like $8,000 was expended in these and other improvements--a costly experiment the sequel proved. The managers, Clawson and Caine, had in contemplation a very profitable season and engaged an unusually large and expensive company. The old stock members had been now so many seasons constantly before the public that it was thought their drawing powers were waning, and it was considered necessary to get some new blood into the stock. Accordingly, while nearly all the old stock was retained, a number of new people were added to the company, vastly increasing the salary list. First in prominence was Kate Denin (Mrs.

John Wilson) who was featured as a stock star. Mr. W. J. Cogswell, who had been playing leads during the latter part of the previous season, was retained as leading man. "Jim" Vinson, who had put into Salt Lake before the close of the last season, was retained as stage manager and to play "old men." "Billie" Crosbie was engaged for the princ.i.p.al comedy roles, thus displacing the local favorites, Margetts, Graham, and Dunbar from the choice comedy parts. Arrah Crosbie, Billie's wife, had to have a place and she made a good utility woman; or she could play Irish characters. From the mere force of a.s.similation "Billie"

was a good Irish comedian. Mr. "Al" Thorne, who was added to the company in the previous November, was retained especially for the "heavies." "Buck" Zabriske was engaged as prompter at a good fat salary, because the prompter was a very essential feature in the makeup of a stock company and generally earned his salary, for he often had a hard part to play behind the scenes on a first night. Then there was dear old Frank Rea, with his face and head of antique beauty; always full of Forrestonian reminiscences, and his wife of blessed memory, who had grown old in the service, along with her husband. Then there was Carrie Cogswell-Carter, and Ed Marden was there. J. W. Carter had parted company with theatrical business and accepted an engagement to preach the gospel for a while. He succeeded in making one convert that we know of whom he brought to Utah later and made Mrs. Carter No. 2. This was a bitter pill for Carrie Carter and she revenged herself in time by becoming the fourth wife of Bishop Herrick of Ogden. Apropos of this latter event, about a year later, December, 1875, Miss Carrie Cogswell was playing Julia in the "Hunchback" to the writer's "Master Walter" at Ogden. There was a Gentile paper there at the time called the Ogden Freeman. It was published by a man named Freeman, who came to Ogden with the advent of the Union Pacific railroad. Freeman had published his paper at each successive terminus of the road until it reached Ogden, and then he settled down there and ran the "Ogden Freeman" as a rabid anti-Mormon paper. We had journeyed northward and were in the town of Franklin.

Phil Margetts, "Jimmy" Thompson and myself were seated in the hotel parlor when Carrie came in with a paper in her hand, and in her lively, good-natured way, said "Boys, I met Freeman of Ogden, in the Co-op. store just now, and he gave me a copy of his paper. He says it has a long notice of the 'Hunchback' in it. Let us see what he says."

With that she threw herself into a chair, turned over the paper and found the notice. It was generally favorable but criticised her Julia rather adversely, at which she said rather petulantly, "Well, I know I'm not an Adelaide Neilson, but I guess it was good enough for Ogden." On further examination of the paper she came across a "personal" which read as follows: "We understand that Miss Carrie Cogswell, now playing here with the Salt Lake company, is the fourth polygamous wife of Bishop Herrick, having herself had three husbands: first, Thomas A. Lyne, the tragedian; second, J. A. Carter, and third, Bishop Herrick." She read this notice to us and as she did so she grew very angry. She strode out of the hotel like an enraged tigress. We all wondered what she was going to do, but in about five minutes she strode back in again with a handful of poor Freeman's whiskers in her clenched fist and her parasol broken to smithereens over the offender's face and head. In explanation she said, "I don't care how much he criticises my acting but he mustn't meddle in my family affairs." Freeman took revenge for this upon the writer several years later in Montana, by giving him a red hot roast while playing in a neighboring town. He evidently thought that I had prompted her to the castigation act, which was not true, and totally unnecessary.

The season was ushered in very auspiciously with the "School for Scandal," with Miss Denin as Lady Teazle and Mr. J. H. Vinson as Sir Peter; Mr. Cogswell playing Charles Surface and Mr. Crosbie, Benjamin Backbite, and the full force of the stock company in the cast.