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» ^ "^ V s o o Stage Lovers' Series Famous Actresses of the Day in America* First Series Famous Actresses of the Day in America. Second Series Prima Donnas and Soubrettes of Light Opera and Musical Comedy in America Famous Actors of the Day in America. First Series Famous Actors of the Day in America. Second Series Celebrated Comedians of Light Opera and Musical Comedy in America David Garricfc and His Contemporaries The Kembles and Their Contemporaries Kean and Booth and Their Contempo- raries Macready and Forrest and Their Con- temporaries Edwin Booth and His Contemporaries L. C. PAGE & COMPANY 200 Summer Street, Boston, Mass. Publishers FAMOUS ACTRESSES OF THE DAY IN AMERICA SECOND SERIES JULIA MARL-OW: Famous Actresses of the Day in America SECOND SERIES By, / Lewis C. Strang ILLUSTRATED Boston L. C. Page and Company 1902 i9' THE LltRARV OF CONGRESS, TWO COfHM RECEDED AUG. 23 1901 COPVR»«MT EHTSV CLASS £&XX« No. copy a Copyright, iqoi By L. C. Page & Company (incorporated) All rights rese?-ved Colonial T$xt%z Boston, Mass., U. S. A. Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. Julia Marlowe in Melodrama . 11 II. Henrietta Crosman 26 III. Mary Shaw and "Ben Hur" . 46 IV. Maude Adams in " L'Aiglon " . 54 V. Amelia Bingham . 73 VI. Ida Conquest 90 VII. Phozbe Davies 102 VIII. Mrs. Fiske as Becky Sharp 120 IX. Hilda Spong .... . 132 X. Annie Russell in Light Comedo 149 XI. Valerie Bergere . . 176 XII. Mary Mannering as a Star . 185 XIII. " Zaza " and Mrs. Leslie Carteb k 201 XIV. Anna Held .... . 214 XV. Sarah Cowell LeMoyne . 226 XVI. Mary Sanders 244 XVII. Ada Rehan'b Nell Gwyn . 257 Contents. CHAPTER PAGE XVIII. Elizabeth Tyree . . 270 XIX. Grace George . 286 XX. Margaret Anglin • 295 XXI. Viola Allen . . 312 XXII. Maxine Elliott . . 323 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE Julia Marlowe as Mary Tudor in "When Knighthood Was in Flower " . Frontispiece Julia Marlowe as Barbara Frietchie in "Barbara Frietchie" 12 " Henrietta Crosman as Nell Gwyn in " Mis- tress Nell" 27 . Henrietta Crosman as Nell Gwyn, Mas- querading as Beau Adair, in "Mistress Nell" 40 Mary Shaw as Amrah in " Ben Hur " . .51 Maude Adams as the Duke of Reichstadt in "L'Aiglon" 54 Maude Adams as the Duke of Reichstadt, with Edwin Arden as Metternich, in "L'Aiglon" 69 "" Amelia Bingham as Blanche in "The Climbers " 76 " Ida Conquest as Dorothy Manners in "Richard Carvel" 98 " Phcsbe Davies 102 Mrs. Fiske as Becky Sharp in "Becky Sharp" . 121 List of Illustrations. PAGE Hilda Spong 132 Annie Russell as Miss Hobbs in " Miss Hobbs " 1 50 . Valerie Bergere as Cho-Cho San in "Ma- dame Butterfly" 179 Mary Mannering as Janice Meredith in "Janice Meredith" 188 Mrs. Leslie Carter . ... . . . 201 Anna Held as Anna in "Papa's Wife" . . 218 • Sarah Cowell Le Moyne and Her Associates in "In a Balcony" 238 Mary Sanders 244 Ada Rehan as Nell Gwyn in "Sweet Nell of Old Drury" 267 Elizabeth Tyree 270 Grace George as Honoria in " Her Majesty " 288 Margaret Anglin 295 Viola Allen as Dolores in " In the Palace of the King" 316 Maxine Elliott as Portia in ''The Mer- chant of Venice". . ... 328 PREFACE. The Second Series of Famous Actresses of the Day in America is largely devoted to a critical review of the theatre in the United States from the fall of 1899 to the spring of 1901. Whereas, in the First Series, biography and anecdote were most prominent, in this Second Series criticism has been made the leading feature. In this volume only such actresses have been con- sidered whose work during the past two seasons has been especially noteworthy. This arbitrary classification will be found to include some whose careers have already been reviewed in the First Series, and others who have come into marked prom- inence since the fall of 1899. In addition, therefore, to a critical consideration of the Preface. work of the newcomers, their lives have also been recorded. The writer has tried al- ways to be accurate as regards dates, and complete as regards data, though he knows from previous experience that it is human to err, especially in dealing with biographical matter that has been gathered from such a variety of sources. Lewis C. Strang. FAMOUS ACTRESSES OF THE DAY IN AMERICA. CHAPTER I. JULIA MARLOWE IN MELODRAMA. With the production of " Barbara Frie- tchie" in the fall of 1899, and of "When Knighthood Was in Flower " one year later, the final step, in transforming Julia Marlowe from an earnest artist exclusively identified with classic tragedy and comedy and the more serious forms of modern drama, to a popular star in up-to-date romantic melo- drama, was taken. I suppose that the ex- perience was inevitable, but one may, even at that, venture to regret the waste of time 12 Famous Actresses. and of effort involved in the descent of the most satisfactory Juliet, the sweetest Rosa- lind and the nearest perfect Viola of the English-speaking stage of to-day to the level of the heroine of a dramatised novel. What if Miss Marlowe did play this heroine better than anyone else could, better, indeed, than the part deserved being played ? She must, with her talent and training, at least have done that much. But why should she have played the heroine at all, when her art and personality could have been so much more worthily employed in illuminating some mas- terpiece of dramatic conception to the infinite credit of herself and with the unreserved approbation of her public ? Julia Marlowe originally produced Clyde Fitch's "Barbara Frietchie" in Philadelphia on October 10, 1899. In the first version of the play, Mr. Fitch followed the John Greenleaf Whittier legend to the extent of having a gray-haired Barbara wave a Union ._ rasonwui JULIA MARLOWE As Barbara Frietchie in " Barbara Frietchie. Julia Marlowe in Melodrama. 13 flag out of a window. In order to bring this condition about, he ordered that a night's vigil at the bedside of her dying lover should turn to venerable white the brunette tresses of the youthful Barbara. At the first per- formance in Philadephia, therefore, it was " yon gray head " which was seen at the window at the conclusion of the play. Miss Marlowe, however, declared that the hair- bleaching process was absurd, and it was never repeated. So the only resemblance between the Whittier Barbara and the Fitch Barbara that remained was the somewhat superficial one found in the circumstance that both defiantly flaunted the Stars and Stripes in the faces of Confederate soldiers marching through Frederickstown. Mr. Fitch placed a double burden on Miss Marlowe's shoulders when he passed this play over to her for public presentation. Not only did she have the responsibility of acting the leading part, which furnished 14 Famous Actresses. the only element in the play that made it a possibility as an acting drama, but she also had practically to create this character from her own imagination. She was obliged to mould Mr. Fitch's vague outline into something resembling a human being, to imbue with life a mere figurehead, to turn a pleasure-loving girl into a serious-motived woman, without a hint from Mr. Fitch how to do it. Strange as it may seem, Mr. Fitch, after the opening scenes of the play, never paid the slightest attention to the development of the character for which his drama was named. He gave us to under- stand that this Southern girl was capricious and beautiful, a great flirt and a great favour- ite. He showed her in love with a Union officer, and then he dropped her and began inventing situations. Everything else that was found in the character was put there by Julia Marlowe, — the pervading sentiment, true and idealistic Julia Marlowe in Melodrama. 15 at one and the same time, so true and so idealistic that not even Mr. Fitch's aggravat- ing melodrama could make it false and mawk- ish. To Julia Marlowe were due also the touching pathos, and the marvellous sincerity, which were proof against Mr. Fitch's wanton theatricalism. All these were the best of histrionic art, and, in addition, were wholly distinct from the wonderful charm and the rich womanliness that the Marlowe tempera- ment lent to Barbara Frietchie. The play itself was so good for an act and a half that one felt a personal grievance against Mr. Fitch, the hard-working young dramatist, for making the last two acts and a half so very bad. Of course there was unnecessary trouble from the first, caused by naming the play " Barbara Frietchie." Mr. Fitch, however, was cautious enough to print the following note on the playbill as a sort of buffer between himself and public opinion : "The author disclaims any intention to the 1 6 Famous Actresses. writing of a historical play. He has en- deavoured merely to picture, in an imaginary story, some of the spirit and atmosphere of a certain period of our history, using the personality of Barbara Frietchie as best lend- ing itself to his purpose." The truth of the matter was that Mr. Fitch got it into his head that the picture of a woman waving a hostile flag in the face of the enemy would appeal to the average theatre audience, and accordingly he wrote a play, which he intended should lead up to that incident. The leading up process proved difficult of execution, and Mr. Fitch finally had to drag in his flag scene after the action had logically ceased. However, disregarding Barbara Frietchie and her preposterous death, let us see what else Mr. Fitch had to offer. His first act was rarely charming comedy. The door-step scene was in every way delightful, barring the unfortunate incident that represented the Julia Marlowe in Melodrama. iy Union Captain Trumbell as neglecting his duty and practically lying in order to prevent Barbara's Confederate brother from being made a prisoner. False touches similar to that are constantly found in war plays, but some day a bold pioneer will write an original war drama and leave out all such obvious un- truths. In Mr. Fitch's second act the true overshadowed the false. The parting of Trumbell and Barbara was a moment of the deepest pathos. The suspense in the episode of the sharpshooters was well con- ceived and, on the whole, effective. Barbara's act of shooting one of the renegades savoured too much of melodrama, however, but it was not a circumstance in the melodramatic line to what the third act furnished. This was a deliberate and cold-blooded effort to harass the spectator's feelings in a manner as inex- cusable as that resorted to by Sardou in the torture scene of " La Tosca." Moreover, it was potent enough theatrically to succeed 1 8 Famous Actresses. in causing a great deal of causeless worry. Captain Trumbell was brought to Barbara's house fatally wounded. First we were in- troduced to a hard-hearted father, who would turn the dying man into the street. Bar- bara's tearful pleadings settled him. Next there was a discarded lover gone mad and seeking revenge. Finally there was the stern soldier, who would carry the unfortu- nate captain off to prison. The first scene of the last act depicted Barbara's grief after Trumbell's death. It, too, was trying, and it arrived at no satisfactory dramatic con- clusion. As in "Nathan Hale," Mr. Fitch wrote his play to an inevitable, but illogical, situation. Starting out as a comedy, the action terminated as a tragedy with the dramatically inexcusable death of Barbara. In " Barbara Frietchie," Mr. Fitch plunged headlong over the precipice of possible sec- tional controversy, which William Gillette skilfully avoided in "Secret Service," and Julia Marlowe in Melodrama. 1 9 which James A. Heme never even ap- proached in "Griffith Davenport." "Bar- bara Frietchie" was strictly a Northern play, and Mr. Fitch's bias was apparent from the first, when, by means of the character of Colonel Negley, whose intolerance of the Union soldier was used for comic effect, he placed the audience completely out of sym- pathy with the South and with everything Southern. Mr. Fitch's attitude was still more pronounced in the character of Mr. Frietchie, whose threats against the wounded Captain Trumbell were so inhuman as to be almost grotesque. No Southern gentleman, no matter how bitter his feeling against the cause for which the Federal soldier fought, would have carried his hostility so far as all but to expel a helpless and dying officer from his house. At least, he should not do it on the stage, where generalisation is to an extent necessary. Mr. Fitch's blunder in this particular 20 Famous Actresses. robbed his play of much dramatic strength, and it also destroyed a possible source of honest sentimental interest. By forcing Mr. Frietchie and all the other Southerners, ex- cept possibly Barbara's brother, out of the audience's sympathy, Mr. Fitch reduced the conflict, which furnished the theme of his drama, merely to a material issue. Barbara's mental struggle, which resulted in her tram- pling under foot every consideration of en- vironment, a struggle the psychological and dramatic possibilities of which were tremen- dous, was completely ignored. All that was presented was her superficial conflict with external obstacles. In other words, instead of a study of human character, we were given a conventional melodrama. What im- mense possibilities there were in this great love, which wrenched Barbara from family and from 'friends, which compelled her, be- cause she was a woman and must concede all, to cast aside her most deeply seated convic- Julia Marlowe in Melodrama. 21 tions and prejudices, that she might meet her lover on his own ground, that she might feel that she was his, through and through ! Yet all this material for a vital drama was passed unheeded. Looking through Mr. Fitch's spectacles, we could not perceive why Bar- bara should lose a single night's sleep in trying to reconcile herself to her lover's point of view, nor did we see why she should grieve unduly at disobeying so small- minded and bigoted a father. Indeed, Mr. Fitch's play was chiefly useful for the opportunities it afforded Miss Mar- lowe to exhibit her art as an actress. And art of the highest quality it was, too, exqui- site in its sentiment, convincing in its sincer- ity, appealing in its pathos. Miss Marlowe was always true. I always dread to hear on the stage the feminine shriek, which the emotional actress habitually utters when she discovers a dead body ; and I was ap- prehensive, therefore, of the moment when 22 Famous Actresses. Barbara should learn of the death of her lover. My fears were groundless, however. Miss Marlowe's cry was heartrending, not nerve-racking. It was the pitiful expression of a grief-stricken woman, and in a situation not so essentially artificial as the one devised by Mr. Fitch that tragedy-laden moment would have been almost unbearable. I have already referred to " Nathan Hale," and, indeed, the parallel between the two plays was striking. In both there was the light comedy introduction, then com- edy verging into melodrama, and finally a tragic ending, which, although historically inevitable, was logically — that is to say, as the necessary outcome of the preceding action — impossible. In " Barbara Frie- tchie," even more than in "Nathan Hale," the death scene was not the outcome of the drama proper, and it was also less effect- ive from a purely theatrical standpoint than one would naturally have expected. The Julia Marlowe in Melodrama. 23 audience unquestionably felt that the shot fired by crazy Jack Negley and resulting in Barbara's death was wantonness, and it un- consciously resented the trickery. In the face of all its apparent and irritat- ing faults, how happened it, then, that " Bar- bara Frietchie," even in its most melodra- matic moments, preyed so mightily on the susceptibilities of the spectators ? There were a number of well-defined causes for this seeming paradox. First, I should place Miss Marlowe's beautiful impersonation of the leading character ; next, the thoroughly capable acting of her company; third, the love interest in the play, which appealed strongly to the imagination and to the sympathy; and, finally, Mr. Fitch's skill in the effective development of his situations. Plainly no artistic conscience kept him from making them by hook or crook count for all there was in them. Paul Kester's dramatisation of Charles 24 Famous Actresses. Major's romantic novel, "When Knight- hood Was in Flower," which Julia Marlowe presented during the season of 1900-01, was better stagecraft than the average run of plays taken from novels. This statement, however, should not be interpreted as exalt- ing Mr. Kester's work high among the na- tions. " When Knighthood Was in Flower " was fair melodrama, and that was all the virtue it had. Its unreality never could be escaped, and its characters were outside of human experience. Its historical flavour was flat and tasteless, and there was no effort to attain even plausibility in the treat- ment either of personages, or of characters. However, the theatrical quality of Mary Tudor was such that Miss Marlowe could utilise the part advantageously for the dis- play of her personal beauty, charm, and variety as an actress. She made the charac- ter, and incidentally she made the play, too. It certainly would have been nothing with- Julia Marlowe in Melodrama. 25 out her. As the coquette, she was brilliant, dazzling, imperious ; passionately fond as the maiden in love; an entrancing picture mas- querading in male attire ; fairly thrilling in moments of tempestuous anger. From first to last Miss Marlowe dominated, and this domination accounted for the popular suc- cess of the drama. CHAPTER II. HENRIETTA CROSMAN. Henrietta Crosman was decidedly the sensational feature of the theatrical season of 1900-01. In her spectacular storming of the bulwarks of New York cocksureness and prejudice, one found the dramatic element present in satisfying completeness. Fame came to her literally in a night. She was comparatively unknown at the time she stole into New York, for stock company work, however worthy it may be in other respects, is not a breeder of widespread reputation. The Bijou Theatre, where she made her modest bow to the New York public on the dreary, stormy evening of Tuesday, October 9, 1900, had just scored a failure, and for two weeks before Miss Crosman' s entrance 26 . HENRIETTA CROSMAN As Nell Gwyn in " Mistress Nell.' Henrietta Crosman. 27 had been in darkness. Never did a star seek favour with such poverty of announce- ment. She opened, naturally enough, to a small audience, with not enough money in the house to pay for the electric lights. But she won out, won out squarely, too, on her merits as an actress. Though booked for only three weeks, she remained in New York for over five months, the last part of the run being in the Savoy Theatre, erst- while a music hall. And she left New York, it may be added, just as spectacularly as she came in, driven out, so she claimed, by the so-called Theatrical Syndicate. The play which served Miss Crosman in such good stead, and helped her to win rec- ognition as a worthy actress, was a four act comedy, called " Mistress Nell," in which Nell Gwyn figured as the leading personage. It was the work of George C. Hazelton, Jr., who, previous to the presentation of this work, had been unknown as a dramatic "28 Famous Actresses. author. Writing about " Mistress Nell " as a play, is exasperating business. One would like to praise it heartily, if not enthusias- tically, but he cannot do it and still keep on good terms with his conscience. While " Mistress Nell " was not in the first class of plays, it was, nevertheless, a good enough play to find fault with. That is a sincere compliment, though I have yet to run across a professional producer of plays who regards faultfinding in that light. The union of Miss Crosman's delightful Nell Gwyn with snatches of dialogue here and there thaf really sparkled with wit of the old comedy school did far more toward bringing the drama to a successful issue than either Mr. Hazelton's skill as a playwright or his ability as a delineator of character. The play was rather poorly constructed. It lacked neat- ness and incisiveness, and there was gener- ally no point to the action when Nell was not on the stage. Henrietta Crosman. 29 "Mistress Nell" was light comedy, — nothing more, — a fact that it was well always to bear in mind, lest one were misled by its mocking assumption of history, and its serio-comic atmosphere of romanticism. " Mistress Nell " was not unlike a light opera without music, all for a bit of fun; and if one found the fun there, the play fully served its purpose. What would be the use, then, of searching the musty, dusty tomes of antiquity to learn if Mr. Hazelton fully observed the proprieties ? What was the difference whether he did or whether he did not ? It was all for the sport there might be in it, all for a joke and a laugh, simply to amuse and to keep one awake until it was time for him to go to bed. In a light comedy, however, a serious intrigue is always a bore, and Mr. Hazelton had quite a serious intrigue on hand in this play. Fortunately, the intrigue was developed so blindly that the spectators could not fully fathom it, 30 Famous Actresses. and consequently it did as little harm as was possible. In spite of the intrigue, therefore, and even in the midst of it, there were many happy moments. The theatre scene of the first act developed a number of laughs, but it was too noisy for me. The Romeo and Juliet inter- view between the king and Nell, in the first half of the second act, was crowded with deliciously witty dialogue. The inn scene of the second half of this act was at times sug- gestively Shakespearian in atmosphere, and entertaining throughout, broadly humourous with its low comedy innkeeper and con- stable, and snappy and sparkling in the play between Nell, the Duchess of Portsmouth, and the king. Equally excellent was the third act, with Nell masquerading as a gal- lant cavalier at the duchess's ball. Perhaps the less said about the last act the better. There was some good material in it, but it was too lengthy, and, in the main, a some- Henrietta Crosman. 31 what wearisome conclusion of the whole matter. Although "Mistress Nell" had its short- comings, it was at least a play. It stood by itself. It told a story that one could follow and comprehend without the aid of a chart or a diagram. It kept reasonably within the limits of its chosen light comedy field. Its characters, neither original nor especially amusing, with one or two exceptions, were, nevertheless, fashioned after excellent models. The dialogue was at its best very good in- deed, — genuinely "literary," in fact, — and at its worst it was never merely perfunctory. The action, not always strictly to the point, did not absolutely drag, except when the unfortunate intrigue that the Duchess of Portsmouth was engineering loomed up in the foreground. Whatever vitally concerned Nell Gwyn was usually interesting. Such situations were clear, snappy, and enter- taining. 32 Famous Actresses. It will be understood, then, that Mr. Hazelton mastered the essentials of dra- matic workmanship decently enough, and that practically all his difficulties came from lack of care, or of understanding, or of experi- ence in working out details. There is a great deal of pure mechanism about a play. Such minor matters as exits and entrances have to be arranged just so, or else they affect the spectator unpleasantly. It is rarely possible for a casual looker-on to indi- cate exactly the shortcomings in a play- wright's work, for the spectator is not given time to study the drama in detail. He can pass judgment only on his impressions, with- out being able ordinarily to tell precisely what causes the impressions. One thing is certain, however, if the impression made by a play is artistically incomplete, the dramatist is always to blame, provided, of course, his play is acted as he wrote it. Ingenious stage management and intelligent Henrietta Crosman. 33 acting may largely conceal a fault, just as poor stage management and bad acting will reveal it glaringly ; but, as a gener- alisation, good acting cannot save a bad play, nor bad acting wholly ruin a good play. In "Mistress Nell" Mr. Hazelton never was sure of himself except when Nell Gwyn was on the stage, and, with the excep- tion of the tavern scene, which was saved by its low comedy, every scene in which Nell did not appear was unconvincing. The first judgment was, of course, to pass over to Miss Crosman all the credit for this peculiar condition of affairs, and, without doubt, great credit was due her for bolster- ing Nell into captivating prominence. Yet even Miss Crosman had her limitations. Partially, at least, she attained her results because she had at hand workable material. The more correct statement of the case was this : Mr. Hazelton was himself interested 34 Famous Actresses. in Nell Gwyn as he was interested in no other personage in the play. He felt the action of the drama as a reality only when Nell was mistress of the situation. He thought of all scenes from which she was absent only as connecting links. To his mind Nell Gwyn was the play, and every- thing else was padding. There certainly was something about this Nell Gwyn which made one wonder if the real Nell were that sort of a person. Was she so irresponsibly girlish ? I do not mean giddy, gushing, gasping girlishness, the girl- ishness of sweet sixteen or blushing sixty, but unaffected, happy-spirited, full-blooded girlishness, the girlishness of fearless inno- cence, the bravado of untainted purity. It did seem a bit odd to associate a Nell Gwyn with innocence and purity. We grant her wit, humour, charm, everything fascinating, except the most fascinating thing of all, — the spontaneous, unprudish, whole - souled Henrietta Crosman. 35 good fellowship of a heart that is both innocent and pure. There is nothing like it under heaven. Nell Gwyn won the love of a king — that is history. Not by wit alone, I warrant, nor by beauty, vivacity, or audacity ; but by the union of all these charms, and mayhap with them such strange innocence and purity of mind, that even a king was tempted. Of course you say impossible, and point to Nell's life in triumphant vindication of the impossibility. That proves nothing. Dragged from the scum of London streets, she may have been, bred in the gutter and nurtured amidst rottenness. I have seen a beautiful flower blossoming and fragrant on a dung- hill. Circumstances point to probabilities, but they do not fix conclusions. But, you exclaim, she bandied rude jests with the pittites in the theatre, and she swore like a London cabman. Again, these things prove nothing. Innocent and pure she 36 Famous Actresses. may have been, though her jokes outlawed those of Rabelais himself, and her oaths were as sulphurous as the hell that was so often on her lips. Fie, fie, you don't believe it? Then you lack experience, and that's an end on't. Such, at any rate, was the Nell Gwyn that Mr. Hazelton imagined and that Miss Cros- man presented on the stage. And whether you found her the ideal about whom Pepys wrote so enthusiastically, or whether you winked your eye knowingly at your neigh- bour with a sly remark, "All right for the ladies, you know, but not Nell Gwyn, not in a million years," — whether she convinced your historical notion or not, she was bound to tickle your present appreciative sense. Sniff at her as a wholly frivolous conception you might, but that did not keep you from be- coming very fond of her, when you saw that she was wonderfully pretty to look upon, full of jollity and of humour, droll, and of nimble Henrietta Crosman. 37 wit. You only wished that she did not laugh so much. Henrietta Crosman came to me as a wholly new sensation. Not only was she a new star; she was a new actress as well. My first impression regarding her was sur- prise at the attractiveness — better yet, the winsomeness — of her face. I had seen her pictures, and, judging from them, I did not expect to find her a woman of such magical prettiness. There was a glow of personality about her, too, that made itself manifest in a smile of genuine happiness and pleasure, — a smile that was something more than a mechanical display of the teeth. Miss Crosman's first victory was in " looking the part" to perfection. She was at no pains to establish an illusion ; that came of itself at first sight of her. All that remained for her was to maintain the feelings of delight and approval and instinctive sympathy that were aroused immediately on her entrance. 38 Famous Actresses. In comparing actors one's inclination is to award the prize of achievement to the por- trayer of mighty emotions. His work is so broad, so idealistically grand and noble, that its very massiveness makes an appeal to the imagination well-nigh irresistible. But the light comedian has a right to considera- tion, nevertheless. If not so great as the tragedian, he is at his best much finer. Moreover, he is nearer life as the average man knows it first hand, while the spirit of his work is more kindly, more grateful, and more helpful. The tragedian awes ; the comedian wins affectionate regard. As Nell Gwyn, Miss Crosman displayed the art of the light comedian at its best. Her work was without evidence of effort ; it was spon- taneous, free, and natural. Always moving in an atmosphere of daintiness, sprightliness, and effervescent joyfulness, she made Nell a creature of considerable variety and of potent fascination. Yet with her free spon- Henrietta Crosman. 39 taneity Miss Crosman ever maintained the essential elements of repose, of mental poise, and of confidence in herself ; there was always present the underlying strength of technical sufficiency. In short, Miss Cros- man lived Nell Gwyn. The part itself was somewhat peculiar. It required a considerable range of expres- sion, and yet its moods were limited. Nell was pictured over and over again in practi- cally the same position — on one side the king, on the other the tool for Nell's jest, and in the middle Nell herself, the self-possessed mistress of the situation. That was Mr. Hazel- ton's stock situation, and in connection with this situation Nell's moods were fixed. She was never in a real difficulty ; she never felt the shoe pinch ; she not once sounded a note of sorrow nor even of fleeting pathos. The part was light comedy, and light comedy only. However, within its light comedy limits there was great variety, — at least Miss Cros- 40 Famous Actresses. man made great variety, for I could easily imagine that the part might have been acted in a nervous monotone that would quickly have become wearisome. Miss Crosman had a rich appreciation of points, and she read remarkably well. Time and time again she got her laughs, — not so much by what she said as by the way she said it. That sort of comedy is rich — and rare, too. It is the com- edy of intelligent comprehension. Walking about the stage, wrinkling the eyebrows, and gesticulating with the hands are not such wonderful things to do. A competent stage- manager can readily train a novice in that sort of "acting," if it be worth his while. But the voice ! There is where the great acting comes from. A voice that interprets while it charms is the best of all gifts, and this Miss Crosman possesses. Henrietta Crosman was born in Wheeling, West Virginia, her father being George HENRIETTA CROSMAN As Nell Gwyn, masquerading as Beau Adair, in " Mistress Nell." M Henrietta Crosman. 41 Hampden Crosman, an officer in the United States army. She came of good Puritan stock, the Crosman family having been one of the first to settle in Taunton, Massachu- setts, where her grandfather, also a soldier, was born. He was graduated from West Point in 1823, and during the Civil War was connected with the paymaster's depart- ment, and stationed at Philadelphia. He was the eldest son of Capt. George Cros- man, one of the earliest settlers of Taunton, Massachusetts. An uncle of Miss Cros- man's mother, Stephen C. Foster, had a national reputation as a song writer, among his compositions being " Old Folks at Home," " Come Where My Love Lies Dreaming," and "Uncle Ned." When Miss Crosman's father retired from the army, the family made its home in Cleveland, Ohio, and it was there, at a church entertainment, when she was nine years old, that Miss Cros- man made her first appearance on any 42 Famous Actresses. stage as the little maid in "The Mistletoe Bough." She was educated at the Moravian Semi- nary in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania. Being gifted with an exceptionally fine singing voice, she was sent, before financial troubles came, to Paris to study, but in her eagerness to forge ahead she ruined her voice. One day Miss Crosman heard her mother say that her Uncle Morrison, a brother of Stephen C. Foster, knew John Ellsler, who was then managing the Grand Opera House in Pittsburg, Pennsylvania. She saw in this circumstance a chance to get a start on the stage. She wrote to Mr. Ellsler and asked for an appointment, and this resulted in a meeting in Pittsburg, Miss Crosman going there from Youngstown, Ohio, where she was living. In order to pay her fare she painted water-colours and sold them. The manager first asked her to recite something, but she was not prepared for that, and so it Henrietta Crosman. 43 was home again to study " something." She chose scenes from "Camille," and "Romeo and Juliet," and then painted more pictures in order to get back to Pittsburg. Mr. Ells- ler thereupon secured for her the opportunity to play Lettie, in Bartley Campbell's "The White Slave," in which she made her pro- fessional debut at the old Windsor Theatre in New York, in August, 1883, her salary being twenty-five dollars a week. The next season she became one of the original members of Daniel Frohman's Madi- son Square Theatre Company, appearing as Gladys Wincott in "The Rajah" the first of the season, and in "The Private Secretary" the remainder of the year. During the sea- son of 1885-86, she was under the manage- ment of George W. Sammis, in " Young Mrs. Winthrop," and the next season leading woman with Edward Collier, then starring, for the first time, in a repertory of legitimate plays. Leading business with Robert Down- 44 Famous Actresses. ing followed. Miss Crosman began the season of 1888-89 as Frederick Warde's leading woman, but he released her so that she might join Augustin Daly's company in New York. Her principal part at Daly's Theatre was Celia in "As You Like It," which was highly praised. She left Daly's suddenly and unexpectedly, as has happened in the cases of many other actresses who have since become prominent. Miss Crosman's next two seasons were spent with Daniel Frohman's New York Lyceum Theatre Company, of which Georgia Cayvan was then the leading woman, Miss Crosman appearing as Lucille Ferrant in "The Wife," Phyllis Lee in "The Charity Ball," and Mrs. Stanmore in "The Idler." Previous to assuming this last part, she had been identified wholly with emotional work. Mrs. Stanmore, however, was light comedy, and was the first indication of her ability in that line. Coming next under the management Henrietta Crosman. 45 of Charles Frohman, she was given a chance for two seasons to develop her talent in farce in "Wilkinson's Widows," "Junior Partner," "Gloriana," "The Other Man," and "Mrs. Grundy, Jr." The summer of 1894 was passed in stock work in Denver, Colorado, and that fall she joined " Burmah," a melo- dramatic production then playing at the Bos- ton Theatre. After that she was engaged in stock work, both in Pittsburg and Brook- lyn, though during the season of 1898-99 she starred with Charles Dickson in "Mis- takes Will Happen." " Mistress Nell " was first produced in Denver, on June 3, 1900. CHAPTER III. MARY SHAW AND "BEN HUR." When William Young's dramatisation of General Lew Wallace's novel, " Ben Hur," was acted for the first time at the Broadway- Theatre, New York City, on November 29, 1899, much praise was bestowed on the production as a spectacle, while but little account was taken of it as a play. This estimate was perfectly just, for Mr. Young's stage version was an unusual combination of unadulterated spectacle, drama, and opera. It was, perhaps, best comprehended under the classification of melodrama, the word being used less in its modern sense of vio- lent theatricalism, and more in its original meaning of drama with music. Considered 46 Mary Shaw and "Ben Hnr" 47 purely as a play, however, " Ben Hur " could be ranked only on the plane of its acting, which was generally bad. It should be ex- plained that the acting of a scenic play is entirely according to the dictation of the stage-manager, who, in the case of a big spectacle like "Ben Hur," has a task fully as delicate as that of the speculator bent on the cornerning of wheat, of cotton, or of anthracite coal, with the aid of a small amount of capital and an unlimited amount of as- surance. In both cases the vital question, which must be guessed correctly to dodge disaster, is : Which way is the public going to jump ? After the great popular success of "Ben Hur " it is, perhaps, presumptuous to hazard the opinion that this vast spectacle was acted wholly in the wrong key. It may seem like perversely declaring that the sun never shines simply because one's attic bedroom window is perpetually shaded by a ten-story 48 Famous Actresses. apartment house. Personally, I was agreeably surprised in the quality of " Ben Hur " as a play. It proved far more worthy than I expected. I do not mean that it was in any way "great;" it was far too episodical, too fragmentary, and too disconnected to stand, had it not been so well supported by the thorough acquaintance that the majority had with General Wallace's novel. Neverthe- less, it certainly had theatrical possibilities, and these were greatly enforced by its influ- ential religious appeal, its sturdy characters, and its unquestionable picturesqueness. The first act was all good theatrical ma- terial. There was vividness and force of the coarser sort in the gallery scene of the sec- ond act. The interviews between Simonides, his daughter, the Sheik, and Ben Hur, in the third act, had strength and variety. The whole episode that involved the discovery and healing of the leprous mother and daugh- ter was charged with considerable human Mary Shaw and " Ben Hur" 49 interest and not a little emotion. The char- acters, too, were in nearly every instance more than ordinarily sympathetic, real, and individual. Moreover, they had at the same time the important element of romance. Ben Hur, Messala, Simonides, Arrius, the Trib- une, the Sheik, Esther, Iras, and Amrah were all good conceptions, which had incor- porated in them power and appeal. Yet, with these valuable qualities very much in evidence, " Ben Hur," as a play, was exactly what its actors made it. They could have raised it aloft as a drama of some im- portance, impressive in its parts and united in its whole. They could, through the per- fect union of personality and art, not only have emblazoned richly their own impersona- tions and the scenes in which they appeared, but they could also so subtly have placed before the spectator the ever discreet but ever present suggestion of the Saviour, as to have made marvellously strong the convic- 50 Famous Actresses. tion of the actual presence of the Christ, thus giving the play peculiar power through its religious aspect. To avoid any possible misunderstanding, it should be stated that the religious element in "Ben Hur" was usually effective without being unpleasantly gross or palpably hypocritical. It was never forced, never permitted — except in the last act — to predominate, and, most important of all, it was never made absolutely tangible. It was used constantly and consistently as a spur to the imagination. "Ben Hur," it seems to me, could have been acted in a manner approaching artistic tragedy with firmness, dignity, and emotional power. Evidently those who staged it thought differently, however, for, with the single exception of the nurse Amrah, the atmosphere was always that of noisy super- ficial melodrama. Indeed, I point to Mary Shaw's work in Amrah as a striking argu- ment in favour of repression and depth. ;: i . Lj MARY SHAW As Amrah in " Ben Hur. Mary Shaw and "Ben Hnr." 51 There was seen force without distracting ef- fort, appeal without noisiness, unflagging interest without disturbing rush and flurry. The melodramatic actor, painting his picture with the most striking colours, and sticking with persistency worthy of a better cause to most violent contrasts, must sacrifice genuine feeling. He expends all his power in explo- sive recitation and broad unsuggestive ac- tion. He has nothing left in the way of imagination and subtilty, the two qualities that make the art of acting really worth while. Because it was vivid, intense, and imagina- tive, because it had strength, and depth, and sympathetic appeal, Miss Shaw's Amrah was without a rival in the cast. It is difficult — more than that, it is impossible — ; even ever so feebly to describe acting such as Miss Shaw displayed. There was not only splen- did perfection of technique, with all the satis- fying interpretation and understanding that ij2 Famous Actresses. came from mental and physical self-control and confidence, but there were also the equally important essentials, imagination and genuine emotion. One felt Amrah, not as a modern family servant, but as the dog- like servitor of the Orient, a creature who knew no will save that of her master, and whose love found expression in faithful obedience and absolute self-abasement. In its spectacular aspect "Ben Hur" was a very remarkable affair. The stage is, under ordinary conditions, a distinctly materialistic affair, with its prosaic curtain going up and down, its lights of many colours, its flies and its wings. As little expect to get poetry and fantasy in stage-settings as to find the rich foliage of the tropics at the North Pole. Still, the apparently impossible was, to a de- gree, obtained by the artist who designed the " Ben Hur " scenic effects. A taste of his quality was in evidence in the prelude, with its desert, where occurred the meeting Mary Shaw and "Ben Hur" 53 of the three wise men under the brilliancy of the Star of Bethlehem. The scene, which was not marred by a single speech, was nothing short of exquisite, while the effect of great distance and mystic dimness that was obtained was veritable magic. CHAPTER IV. In the spring of 1900, Maude Adams put aside the fascinating witcheries of Lady Babbie in "The Little Minister," and, after a summer of hard study, donned in the fall the masculine garments of the Duke of Reich stadt, the ill-fated son of Napoleon, pictured by the French dramatist, Edmond Rostand, in his play, " L'Aiglon." The change was an astonishing one, more astonishing, in fact, than her successful hazard for a brief season of Shakespeare's Juliet. Nor was the experiment without its satisfactory reward of critical and popular approval. Public opin- ion, as with Miss Adams's Juliet, was, to be 54 MAUDE ADAMS As the Duke of Reichstadt in " L'Aiglon. Maude Adams in " UAiglon" 55 sure, hopelessly divided. But it is safe to declare the actress was justified in her dar- ing by those who had hearts to feel as well as minds to understand. Exceedingly sorry most of us were, in our selfishness, that there ever had to be an end to Lady Babbie. It was difficult for us, who could never tire of the delightful Egyptian, — for us who had yielded so surely time and time again to her spell, — to imagine that any one under any circumstances might find her wearisome. Babbie was to us as some dear friend, a cherished companion, whom we loved very much, whom we wished always with us, whose happiness was our greatest pleasure, whose sorrows awoke in us keenest sympathy ; a friend whom we felt that we could trust to the end of time, who never disappointed nor wounded us, who never fell from our ideal, who returned sentiment for sentiment, who inspired us to look up and to seek beyond, whose sympathy was rich, full, 56 Famous Actresses. and complete, whose influence was ennobling, purifying, and broadening. Tire of Lady Babbie? Tire of rippling laughter and of innocent mirth, of sweet, pathetic tears, of love, of youth, of beauty, of all that is most gracious and most to be desired? Tire of life that is charged with kindly humanity, with gentleness, life that is all springtime, fresh, clean, and joyous ? How could one tire of these great and good things ? Ah, so we thought, but there was another side to the picture, a view-point altogether dif- ferent, the view-point of the talented, the pre- ciously endowed little woman, who laboured so long and so faithfully, revealing to us this idealistic creation of the imagination. Again and again she lifted the curtain, although her personal interest in the scene must have long before departed. Conscientiously, with re- sourceful art, she regenerated the old, old character, lived anew the old, old emotions. Maude Adams in "L'Aiglon." 57 We were delighted as ever. But she ? Weary, so weary ! How she must have welcomed a change ! It may have been fancy, but it seemed to me that I detected the slightest trace of in- evitable boredom in Miss Adams's last per- formances of Lady Babbie, a little loss of spontaneity, a loss so trifling that one hardly dared to hint that it was noticeable. I seemed sometimes to feel that Maude Adams was acting, that Babbie's laughter was not Maude Adams's laughter, that Babbie's tears were only make-believe, that her bewildering lights anu shades were there because Maude Adams willed that they should be. In short, I al- most dared to maintain that I had seen Maude Adams's art at work, something which, to me at least, had never before been revealed in this part. Do you wonder, when you consider the matter, that it should have been so ? Eight hundred performances of the same role, 58 Famous Actresses. speaking the same lines, feeling the same things, hearing the same laughter, the same applause, bowing to the same curtain calls, and trying, trying, trying to be pleased with it all ! The real surprise was that Miss Adams stood it so long and remained so nearly the perfect Babbie that she was to the very end. It was not strange that one who had seen her impersonation many times should at the last have suspected a shade of artificiality. The marvel was that she was not frankly artificial, wholly mechanical. Maude Adams made her first appearance as the Eaglet in Louis N. Parker's English version of the Rostand play in Baltimore, Maryland, on October 15, 1900. In March, 1900, Sarah Bernhardt produced " L'Aiglon " in Paris, and news of the tremendous effect that the drama had on those of French blood was immediately sent broadcast. "But the play will never be a success outside of France," was the accompanying verdict. Maude Adams in " L'Aiglon" 59 How absolutely wrong was this qualification, it needed only a single experience with the great drama to perceive. "L'Aiglon" is indeed French, and I can well understand how the heart of a Frenchman must be torn to shreds and tatters, and his soul must be inspired and inflamed with the most enthu- siastic patriotism by the action and sentiment of the drama. But " The Eaglet " deals also with sweeping emotions, with mighty strug- gles, with stirring flights of the imagination, with vast enterprises, with a supreme tragedy ; and these belong no more to France than they do to the whole world. "The Eaglet, ,, therefore, is rightly to be classified with the universal drama. When Rostand gave his " Cyrano de Ber- gerac" to the public, there was general acknowledgment of his genius, and also gen- eral skepticism regarding his ability to repeat himself in force and strength and artistic merit in a second play. After seeing Richard 60 Famous Actresses. Mansfield's Cyrano and Maude Adams's Eag- let, I was ready to testify that, from the stand- point of the theatre, he had accomplished in " L'Aiglon " the seemingly impossible. I was willing to acknowledge that " Cyrano de Bergerac" read better than "The Eaglet," but it seemed to me that " The Eaglet " acted better than "Cyrano de Bergerac." Acting literature is vitally different from reading literature. Reading literature is first of all an appeal to the mind, and through the mind to the imagination and to the senses. Acting literature is an appeal, first to the senses, then to the imagination, and last of all to the mind. In its appeal, the drama is a com- bination of music, which stimulates the imagination through the sense of hearing, and painting and sculpture, which stimulate the imagination through the sense of sight. All genuine drama — and it should be rec- ognised that all works written in the dramatic form are not drama — must be acted to be Maude Adams in " L 'Aiglon." 61 complete. That is the condition or the re- striction or the privilege under which the dramatist labours. He is writing for the theatre — for actors and for spectators. It follows, therefore, that no person — however broad in culture, however catholic in taste, however experienced in stage technique — can judge finally and absolutely of the true worth of a play as literature or as art, until he has seen it competently presented on the stage. Until I saw " Cyrano de Bergerac " acted up to its full possibilities, as it was in Con- stant Coquelin's impersonation of the title part, I regarded "The Eaglet" as superior to " Cyrano "as an acting play. But that esti- mate was wrong. "The Eaglet," being more theatrical than " Cyrano," suffered less from feeble or mistaken interpretation. " Cyrano," on the other hand, has a humanity and a vitality that raise it distinctly above its com- panion piece. The difference is inherent, not superficial. It is the spirit that inspired 62 Famous Actresses. "Cyrano," which counts. "The Eaglet" otherwise has points of excellence, fully equal to those of its predecessor. It, too, is an exhaustive exposition of character, and its action is placed against a background of marvellous suggestiveness and impressiveness. "The Eaglet" is the symbolic presentation of the spirit of a most complex and fascinat- ing people ; it is the pinning down to dra- matic exposition of the unconquered Napoleon. It is a richly sympathetic and a powerfully pathetic retelling of the " Hamlet " story of a soul struggle against overwhelming odds. Appreciating the truth, sympathy, sin- cerity, and subtilty of the composition of the character of the Duke of Reichstadt as a dramatic creation, I, nevertheless, do not feel that the Eaglet, himself, is the really significant factor in Rostand's play. The drama was not written, in my judgment, so much to present the Duke of Reichstadt as it was patriotically to inspire Frenchmen, and Maude Adams in "L'Aiglon" 63 to set forth in symbolic form the ideal spirit of France as Rostand conceived it. So clearly evident has Rostand made his ideal that, not only can France perceive her own perfect image, and be enthused by it, but we outsiders can see it also and be fired and inflamed in a similar manner as is the Frenchman, though to a less degree. Whether this in- spiration would be felt so strongly in London with an audience of Britons, is doubtful. That it could touch an audience of Germans is practically impossible. But here in this country we have enough of the emotional vivacity of the Frenchman partially to under- stand him. The Frenchman is away ahead of us in honest sentiment. We are ahead of him in " horse " sense. He poses far more effectively than we do. We are too crudely and vulgarly self-conscious. In that most striking creation, the grena- dier Flambeau, it seems to me that Rostand gives us, as it were, a summing up of France 64 Famous Actresses. — France wholly optimistic and wholly de- bonair ; France willing to risk everything for a bit of sentiment — foolish sentiment, you of stern practicability declare — even as Flambeau risked his life for the pretty sen- timent of guarding Napoleon's son, wearing the uniform of the old guard, bearskin on head and white-slung musket in hand ; France, light-hearted and frivolous and gay, but true and brave and faithful to the last breath. What a picture of a nation is this ! What a picture ! What wonder that French- men went crazy over Rostand's work ! The greater wonder is that they could strangle their emotion sufficiently to express it even crazily ! It was the unmistakable presence of the French spirit, in union with the mighty struggle of the Napoleonic spirit, that made the second act of " The Eaglet " so super- charged with emotional stress, with pathetic appeal, and with dramatic strength. In the Maude Adams in "UAiglon." 65 Louis N. Parker version, used by Maude Adams, this second act was a combination of the second and third acts of the original play. This crowding together process re- sulted in momentary incongruity as regards time, but it had value in continued and unin- terrupted interest in the action. From the moment that Flambeau appeared in this act, until he perished by his own hand on the field of Wagram, he overshadowed the action. Helped on, buoyed up, urged for- ward by the constant optimism and faithful service of the irresistible grenadier, even the weak, wan, wretchedly hopeless Eaglet dared to try to fly — actually fluttered his wings alone for the distance from the tree to the ground. But it was all impossible. The Eaglet was not Napoleon — except in his own fevered imagination and in the equally fevered imaginations of his loyal friends. Struggle against the truth as he might, the Eaglet was compelled to acknowledge a 66 Famous Actresses. spiritual as well as a physical master — that fixed quantity, Metternich. A Napoleon could never have known the helplessness of facing a will stronger than his own. This subtle phase of the Eaglet's char- acter — a phase that made the almost indomitable spirit and strength of will dis- played in the death scene nearly a complete victory — was most dramatically exposed in the mirror scene by Metternich, who pointed out ruthlessly and relentlessly every weak- ness, every taint, every flaw in the face, form, and character of the struggling, terrified boy. Nor could the pitiful little duke get the phantoms from his brain until he dashed the candelabra into the reflection of himself and smashed the mocking glass into frag- ments. Before writing a word regarding Miss Adams's impersonation of the Duke of Reich- stadt, I wish to avoid all misunderstanding by speaking my appreciation of her mental Maude Adams in " L Aiglon" 6 J power, of her art, and of her pluck. Whether she was wise to force her resources to, and even beyond, the limit, and whether, with her slight physique, she did not risk too much in undertaking such a tremendous part as the Eaglet, are debatable questions, perhaps, but they are really none of my business. To declare, however, that by her presentation of such characters as Juliet and the Duke of Reich stadt she injured or jeop- ardised her artistic reputation is out and out nonsense. Her Juliet I recall in certain of its phases as the best I ever saw. Re- garding her Eaglet it may be asserted that no loss of prestige was to be feared while Miss Adams was able to make apparent at all points her thorough mental command of Rostand's conception. With her ideal of the duke, her understanding of his character, her treatment of his complexities and per- plexities, her exposition of motives, of pur- poses and cross-purposes — with these there 68 Famous Actresses. was little or no fault to be found. Mentally the Duke of Reichstadt was hers. This of itself was a task of no mean nor small order, for Rostand in the Eaglet portrayed a human being, and portrayed him with ana- lytical keenness, acumen, and completeness most uncommon. Miss Adams's first entrance was not effect- ive. Her physical tinyness and weakness made so overpowering an impression that the notion of royalty and of Napoleonic heritage did not at once strike home. Not until the line spoken by the Countess Camerata, "They say you do not know your father's history," which was answered by the duke, " Do they say that ? " did the fire begin to burn. From that point, through all the sharpening of wits and mental fence with court and ambassadors and during the mag- nificent outburst of infectious enthusiasm in- spired by the history lesson — leading phases of the first act ; through the magnificent MAUDE ADAMS As the Duke of Reichstadt, with Edwin Arden as Metter- nich, in " L'Aiglon." Maude Adams in " U Aiglon." 69 second act, which never permitted the tears to leave the eyes, and the tremendous range of emotion involved in the episode of the painted soldiers ; in the meeting with Flam- beau and the interview with Austria's em- peror ; in the representation of the joy of the child, the fear of the child, and the defiance of the child; in facing the cool opposition of the implacable Metternich, and finally in the tremendous mirror scene, culmina- ting with its purely theatrical but none the less appalling crash of broken glass, — in every one of these moments of the first two acts Miss Adams was great. But the climax of the second act marked the climax of her emotional power. The third act of " The Eaglet " may be quickly passed by. It was picturesque enough, and it may have had a certain value as a halting place between the stress of the second act and the mighty emotionalism of the scene on the field of Wagram. Still, beyond its purely JO Famous Actresses. mechanical use in carrying on the story, it seemed dramatically worthless. The fearful scene on the field of Wagram was completely beyond Miss Adams's powers. She could not give physical expression to those imaginary terrors, and one felt them not. In that scene nothing short of the impressiveness of tragic power would do. Tragic power Miss Adams had not. The mechanics of the scene were beautifully con- ceived and executed. No apparitions were visibly shown, and the cries and wild shouts of phantom voices were so mingled with the soughing of the wind, that it was not diffi- cult to conceive of a fevered imagination conjuring these mysteries from what was really the droning roar of the gale. There were all the elements of terror present, and these were increased by the sense of loneli- ness and dreariness wrought by the setting. The full sweep of the stage was shown, with a perspective of six, eight, ten miles, — the only Maude Adams in " IJ Aiglon" Ji distant objects in sight being the little mound on which the terrified Eaglet wrestled with his soul, the stolid figure of the sign-post pointing the way to France, and in the fore- ground the dead body of the grenadier. Against this awesome and stupendous background stood forth the weak, feeble figure of the Duke of Reichstadt. It was a moment when domination of surroundings could be obtained only by the compelling sweep of supreme tragedy. Miss Adams failed to dominate, largely — almost wholly — because she lacked the brute force. The environment was too strong for her unfor- tunate physical limitations. What she lost in the Wagram scene she recovered in the death scene. This was in- describably pathetic, and the wan pitifulness of it was well-nigh heartrending. Here just those qualities that made ineffective the fear- inspiring hallucinations of the preceding act rendered vastly moving the bitter and vain 72 Famous Actresses. fight of the little Eaglet against disease and death. One could feel the power of his will ; one could feel it straining and almost rending into shreds the weak, unresponsive muscles. The agony was the keenest emotional tor- ture for the spectator. Of light and shade, of touches of deeply sig- nificant comedy, of delicacies of subtilty and fine significance, there were many throughout the impersonation, and they all were admi- rable. Over the tragic figure of the Eaglet Miss Adams cast her magic mantle of pa- thetic appeal, made all the more powerful by contrasting tones of touching humour that were themselves almost weeping. Ex- cept in the instance of the field of Wagram pathetic appeal carried the day. CHAPTER V. AMELIA BINGHAM. To make plain the position that Amelia Bingham holds in the American theatre, her publicity bureau has consistently referred to her as an "actress-manageress," which, I submit, is a fearful thing to call any woman. However, the dilemma in which the genial press agent found himself when he tried to fashion a neat and compact label that should fit Miss Bingham's case is not fully appreci- ated until one attempts to do the same thing himself. The facts to be conveyed are that Miss Bingham is managing a theatrical company and acting in it at the same time, and that she is the only woman in the United States who is doing pre- 73 74 Famous Actresses. cisely those two things. In London men who both manage and act are termed " actor-managers,' ' and women in a similar line of work are designated "lady mana- gers," a combination that is even worse than " actress - manageress." Doubtless, if some original mind should invent a graceful phrase that comprehended the whole of Miss Bingham's versatility, she would be properly grateful and gladly adopt it. I have tried to be an inventor, but have not succeeded. Miss Bingham has made no secret of her ambitions in a theatrical way. Her reiter- ated purpose is to make the Amelia Bing- ham Company, which began its public existence on January 15, 1901, with the production at the Bijou Theatre, New York, of Clyde Fitch's comedy, "The Climbers," the standard stock organisation of the coun- try, a successor, in a way, to the Augustin Daly Company. Miss Bingham's enterprise Amelia Bingham. 75 has thus far been conducted with business acumen, good sense, and considerable artistic enthusiasm. She has surrounded herself with a company of players of reputation, and she has produced an American drama of unconventionality and merit. When Miss Bingham decided to secure an original bit of dramatic writing, and not rely for her first success on a dramatised novel, Clyde Fitch, among others, was requested to submit a manuscript. It proved to be a " star " play, and was therefore refused. Miss Bingham desired a " stock " piece. "I was convinced — I always have been, for that matter — that ' the play's the thing,' " she said. " Authors seemingly could not comprehend that I wanted a play, not a part ; that I wished people to leave the theatre talking about the Amelia Bing- ham Company, rather than about Amelia Bingham alone. They could not grasp my intention simply to make Amelia Bingham y6 Famous Actresses. the trade-mark of the best stock company that I could get together." Finally Mr. Fitch showed Miss Bingham "The Climbers," which, originally written for the Empire Theatre Company, had been refused by Charles Frohman, and after that by nearly every other manager on Broadway. Miss Bingham liked the play, however, and had the courage to produce it. It proved a remarkable popular success. Referring to herself and her future, Miss Bingham con- tinued : " I love work — hard work. No conscien- tious actress with the interest of her man- ager at heart can get on without work. People who imagine that an actress can maintain a prominent place in the front rank of the vast theatrical army without ceaseless industry are misinformed. Not only must she study to improve her acting, but she must read, hear good music, become acquainted with the works of fine artists, do AMELIA BINGHAM As Blanche in " The Climbers," Amelia Bmgham. J J everything to stimulate that necessary qual- ity, imagination. "When I announced my intention to es- tablish my present enterprise, my friends attempted to dissuade me, telling me that I could never act a part, manage a theatre, and supervise my household. They declared that my health would not stand the strain. Not only have I found time to take care of myself physically, but I have performed all my duties, and, in addition, entertained my friends, read many plays, and kept abreast with the larger interests of the day. I am much interested in politics and finance, have continued my acquaintance with the best literature, and devoted considerable time to painting and music, accomplishments in which, during my school days, I had shown some proficiency. " What are my ambitions ? They are boundless for my company. It is my hope that some day the Amelia Bingham Com- 78 Famous Actresses. pany will take the place of that organisation directed for so many years by Augustin Daly. He has always been to me the most admirable figure in the theatrical world. Shall I produce Shakespeare ? I fear not. Personally, I do not believe that the actor of to-day secures the training requisite for the successful interpretation of Shakespeare's plays. My own career is in some respects like that of the average actress. It has been of eight years' duration, and in that time my opportunities to participate in Shakespearian revivals have been few and far between. I believe thoroughly in plays of modern life if they are true to nature. I think our public in general likes to witness unconventional treatment of things that it knows about, possible elements in the lives of those near at hand. It is my intention to produce plays that will contain, in addition to verity, sur- prise. I do not want the cut - and - dried dramas of which the public is weary. Amelia Bingham. ?9 " If it be a feasible plan, I hope to confine my efforts to the presentation of plays by American authors. Frankly, it is a difficult task to find them, but I mean to persevere. When I have my own theatre — I shall cer- tainly build one when the time is ripe for the project — I hope to make it the home of American drama." " The Climbers " dealt with well-defined phases of New York society. The action opened just after Mrs. Hunter and her three daughters, one of whom, Blanche, — played by Miss Bingham, — was married, had re- turned from the funeral of the man who had been the head of the house. Blanche and one daughter were unaffectedly grief- stricken, but the widow and the youngest daughter were chiefly concerned regarding their social future. Consequently, when the widow learned that her husband had died without leaving her a penny, there was an outburst, and the vulgarity of her nature So Famous Actresses. came bounding to the surface. In this first act occurred the scene, in which Mrs. Hunter and her daughter Clara disposed of their Paris gowns, now useless to them, to two fashionable callers. This episode, according to Charles Henry Meltzer, was not, strictly speaking, original. In the germ, he declared, it was invented about twenty years ago by the French dramatist, Henri Becque, and exhibited at the Theatre Francais, in " Les Corbeaux." "If Clyde Fitch had been able to elabo- rate the dramatic scheme indicated in his first act," wrote J. Rankin Towse, "he prob- ably would have written the best and most interesting American comedy of his genera- tion ; but he allowed himself to be tempted by motives of mere theatrical expediency, and abandoning satire for sensation, and character for incident, suffered the threads of an interesting and novel story to be lost in a coarse strand of striking but conven- Amelia Bingham. 81 tional melodrama. Unquestionably the fune- ral scene is a hazardous experiment, and open to criticism on the- score of good taste ; but the purpose here is legitimate, if the demon- stration of it is a little too violent to be alto- gether artistic. It would be less shocking to delicate susceptibilities in the written page than it is in actual representation. The satire is fierce and crude, but it is wholesome and hits fairly one of the commonest and most contemptible forms of human hypocrisy. It is not even in the most remote sense a mockery of grief. The employment of it, dramatically, to throw into instant relief the different characters and dispositions of the assembled mourners, is an admirable device. " The suggested problem is, how these women would comport themselves, and how they would fare, when thrown upon their own resources by a clearly impending financial catastrophe. It is a situation full of infinite possibilities, worthy of the ingenuity of 82 Famous Actresses. Pinero himself. The difficulties of work- ing out such a scheme in compact dramatic form would be prodigious, and perhaps it was the realisation of this fact, or mistrust of his own powers, that induced Mr. Fitch to shirk them altogether. Certain it is that, after the first act, the fate of ' The Climb- ers,' so far as it is affected by any individual character or conduct of their own, becomes a matter of altogether secondary consideration. The ruin with which they were threatened is averted, in some way not very lucidly explained, and the interest thereafter centres in the domestic infelicities of one member of the Hunter group — who is not a ' climber ' at all — and the efforts of her friends to pre- vent her husband, a reckless and unprincipled gambler, from ruining himself and everybody connected with him. It is not necessary to follow the purely melodramatic details of the story. They are marked by the exaggeration which too often accompanies a fertile inven- Amelia Bingham. S3 tion, but they are good of their kind and are adroitly managed. Two of them are remark- ably effective. One of them is where the embezzler, after a Christmas entertainment in his luxurious home, is compelled to make confession of his crimes, in a darkened room, to the relatives he has robbed, and the other — which is, perhaps, the best individual scene in the play, certainly the strongest emotionally — is that in which an honour- able man, having betrayed, inadvertently, his secret love for the heroine to a jealous rival, lays bare his heart to the latter, and by appealing to her nobler instincts converts her from a state of veiled hostility to hearty friendship. The first of these episodes is purely melodramatic and of small artistic consequence ; the second sounds the depths of human nature and belongs to a much higher order of invention." Amelia Bingham — her name was Smiley before she married Lloyd Bingham, at that 84 Famous Actresses. time an actor — was born in Hicks ville, Ohio, ■ — "an Ohio Methodist," she called herself. " My father was a strict Methodist," she added, "and I was brought up to believe that, outside of the Methodist church and Sunday school, salvation was not to be thought of. I don't believe a member of my immediate family had ever been to a theatre, much less known an actor, before I startled and almost broke the collective heart of the town by marrying my husband, who was on the stage. It cut me to the quick to have the neighbours turn against me as they did when I married. My brothers and sisters are sweet country people — the salt of the earth. They couldn't understand me, either. When I left at the time of my marriage, I was under a deep, big black cloud, I can tell you. "Those first visits home were painful. People turned their heads as I walked down the street. My best schoolgirl friend, my Amelia Bingham. 85 lifelong chum, passed me and looked me square in the face as though I were a stranger. My old Sunday-school teacher had the courage 'to come to see me, and when he went away, he took my hand in his and said : « Amelia, I hear there are some good men and women on the stage. I hope so for your sake.' But as time went on, and Mr. Bingham and I continued to go home after each season, the neighbours began to be more friendly. Then one of them got in a hard place financially, and he wrote me such a pitiful, apologetic note, that it made everything plain to me. Well, I helped that neighbour out, and little by little we came to understand one another. Hicksville took Amelia Bingham back to its heart, actress though she was. I can't help loving the old town. I was born there, and when I die I want to be buried in the little cemetery, where my place is waiting for me in the family plot." 86 Famous Actresses. Miss Bingham was educated at the Ohio Wesleyan University. Her first stage expe- rience was with McKee Rankin, with whom she went on a tour to the Pacific coast. Miss Bingham's first appearance in New York was made at the People's Theatre on the Bowery in "The Struggle of Life." In pur- suance of her spoken resolution, " to be the leading woman of a Broadway theatre in five years or quit the business," she refused offers for the road and determined to stick to New York. Her next engagement was at Niblo's in "The Power of Gold." Then she moved a little farther up-town to the Fourteenth Street Theatre, when she appeared in "The Village Postmaster." From there she ad- vanced to the American Theatre, playing in " Captain Impudence " and in revivals of the Boucicault dramas. Charles Frohman saw her and engaged her for "The White Heather " at the Academy of Music, and under his management came her triumphant ^_ Amelia Bingham. Sy march into prominence. She appeared at the Madison Square in "On and Off" and "The Proper Caper," and at Wallack's The- atre in " At the White Horse Tavern " and "The Cuckoo." Then she was chosen to replace Jessie Millward in " His Excellency the Governor" at the Empire Theatre. During the season of 1899- 1900, Miss Bingham acted in New York and Chicago in the vacuous melodrama, " Hearts are Trumps." In addition to these New York engagements, Miss Bingham played for a time with the George Holland Stock Com- pany at the Girard Avenue Theatre, Phila- delphia ; in " Nature " at the Academy of Music, New York; in "The Capitol" at the Standard Theatre, New York, under the management of J. M. Hill in 1895, and at the Herald Square Theatre with the Mor- daunt and Block Stock Company in the summer of 1898. At the conclusion of the run of " Hearts 88 Famous Actresses. are Trumps " in the spring of 1900, Miss Bingham, who was nervously worn out by the strain of constant appearances in un- congenial parts in melodrama, sailed for Europe with the intention of taking a long rest. There she was a surprised witness of the success which had rewarded the women who had undertaken the management of theatres. In England she found them put- ting up a formidable fighting front against their masculine competitors. She found the same to be true to a lesser degree in France, where Sarah Bernhardt was the most con- spicuous figure in the ranks of women managers. However, it was not until she returned home in the fall, and found that there was no suitable engagement in sight for her during the coming season, that she decided to emulate the example that she had discovered abroad, and realise the dream which is cherished by all players, — that of some day having a company of their own. Amelia Bingham. 89 As Miss Bingham expressed it, "Once my decision arrived at, I outlined my scheme, arranged all the bewildering mass of detail ; in a word, found out just what I must do, then did it." CHAPTER VI. IDA CONQUEST. Although Ida Conquest, during the sea- son of 1 899- 1 900, was not nominally the leading woman of John Drew's company, presenting " The Tyranny of Tears," she was, because of her admirable impersonation of that original conception, Hyacinth Wood- ward, the most thoroughly discussed member of the cast. This Miss Woodward was a conception likely to excite controversy, and Miss Conquest acted her with notably real- istic art. Indeed, in illuminating and sug- gestive power, in sympathy and in sincerity, in simplicity and in directness, in freedom from self-consciousness, in rich sentiment and in artistic subtilty, her work was a most 90 Ida Conquest. 91 grateful revelation of the best that the actor can offer. I do not deny that the character occasionally slipped away from her, but she gave so much, and the spirit behind it all was so admirable, that fault-finding seemed petty and unwarranted. It was strange and novel study of woman- kind that Haddon Chambers made in the character of this private secretary, Hyacinth Woodward. On her he lavished the cream of his imagination and his art, and he suc- ceeded in creating a woman, a creature of complexed and hidden motive, of not easily comprehended action, of great sympathy, of rare charm, and of abiding fascination. Un- doubtedly there were many who did not understand Hyacinth Woodward. They did not see why she should kiss her employer's picture ; they could not fathom her unso- phisticated frankness ; they were not able to find the focus of her outlook on life. In her Mr. Chambers suggested much and ex- 92 Famous Actresses. plained little, and, consequently, the revela- tion of truth came only to the sympathetic student. Mr. Chambers succeeded so well in deline- ating an actual woman that he fooled com- pletely those who were accustomed to analyse a dramatist's creations by means of the labels which had been ostentatiously pasted on the foreheads of the puppets. An imaginary human being, who can be understood only through the exercise of a common human sympathy, or by means of the same psycho- logical methods that one uses in fixing the characteristics of the man or the woman whom one meets on the street, is to the thoughtless playgoer no character at all. Basing his judgment on obviousness and superficiality, more than one reviewer de- clared that Mrs. Parbury was the only char- acter in "The Tyranny of Tears." As a matter of fact, although she was the most easily understood personage in the drama, Ida Conquest. 93 she was also one of the least worthy artistic- ally. Mrs. Parbury was theatrically effect- ive, but she was not genuine. She was a type. Hyacinth Woodward, however, was not a type ; she was a woman. The play- wright did not stand up before the multitude and proclaim through a megaphone the points in her mental and moral make-up ; he did not write out her motives in large letters on a blackboard. Still, he was not sparing in data for those that were able to read fine type. How suggestive was her story of early poverty ! Brought up in the country, — her father a minister, and she one of a family of thirteen girls, only one of whom had been fortunate enough to catch a husband, — she was as ignorant of men as she was of life conditions and problems. She had a pretty wit, a positive genius for sizing up human kind, and an astonishing frankness of speech. She looked back on her poverty-stricken youth with horror, and she talked about her 94 Famous Actresses. childhood with cynical coldness and feigned heartlessness. Narrow as her view-point was, her judgment was instinctively sound. Her independence and the expanding atmosphere of her association with Parbury soon came to be indispensable to her. She would die before she would ever return to her home, she declared. Yet there were those who wondered that she fought back, instead of meekly submitting, when Mrs. Parbury or- dered her from the house. "I liked that article," said Hyacinth, referring to something that Parbury had written, "it was so masterful. Oh, I ad- mire strength." There was the key to her curiously indirect and still wonderfully simple feeling for Parbury — the feeling which led her thoughtlessly to kiss his photograph, and afterward to acknowledge without shame that she had kissed it. Toward Parbury' s intellect she had the at- titude of a hero worshipper. In his role of Ida Conquest. 95 an author, he was her ideal of a man. For the condition of domestic martyrdom, which his wife's petty despotism and his own easy- going indulgence had forced upon him, she had the utmost contempt, softened by the regret that a man of Parbury's attainments should permit himself to be so set upon. Hyacinth's quick betrothal to the self-con- tained, sane, cynically surfaced man of the world, George Gunning, was very natural under the circumstances. He was the first man who had ever, to quote her own words, "looked on her as anything more than a machine." He was the embodiment of that masculine masterfulness which she so much admired. She had carried the burden of her future so long, and it was such a wearisome, humiliating burden, that she was willing enough to shift it on some one else's shoulders when the chance came. Moreover, she was an extremely practical young woman. She recognised fully the social advantages of g6 Famous Actresses. Gunning's offer of marriage, and she was the more ready, therefore, to follow her heart's inclination. An extraordinary character and a remark- able conception by itself, no less extraordinary and not a whit less remarkable was Miss Conquest's embodiment of Mr. Chambers's creation. Her understanding of the part was almost never at fault, and her impersonation throughout was exceptionally complete. She knew what she was about, and she fathomed Hyacinth Woodward. She seemed at times to be overdeliberate in action — too calm, perhaps. This was particularly apparent in some of her interviews with Parbury. Never- theless, it was a splendid exhibition of acting, one which stamped Miss Conquest as an artist in the best sense of that much abused word. Trained as she has been exclusively in modern light comedy, it would have been a remarkable achievement, indeed, if Miss Con- Ida Conquest. 97 quest had been able to assume with complete satisfaction the mantle of romantic melo- drama, especially in a character so wholly superficial as Edward E. Rose made Dorothy Manners in his dramatisation of Winston Churchill's novel, "Richard Carvel." The actor is dependent upon the dramatist for his working material. The actor must have a definite substance around which he can wrap his personality and on which he may exercise his art. Exceptions to this rule there un- doubtedly are, but these exceptions are found chiefly in the field of eccentric comedy, though it is true that the born romantic actor will often accomplish wonders in parts that are the most flimsy artificiality. Miss Conquest's peculiar field is modern character, and the interpretation of this is diametrically opposed to romanticism. Mod- ern comedy acting is the faithful and con- stant piling up of details ; it is infinite attention to little things, and its effect is 98 Famous Actresses. accumulative. It demands subtilty and in- sight, suggestiveness and logical develop- ment, breadth of mental understanding, but quietness and repose in action. Such acting must first of all appeal by its truth to the intelligence, and after that conviction fol- lows as a matter of course. Romantic act- ing, on the other hand, must reveal in a flash. It is an impression, not a growth. It must idealise. It must reach the heart, for it re- lies for conviction not on the mind but on the sentiment. It must be broad, strong, and sweeping, comprehensive, pregnant with personality and inexhaustible in pictorial resource. Now Miss Conquest, in spite of her old- fashioned garments, acted Dorothy Manners as if Dorothy were a character in modern comedy. She tried to interpret, whereas she should have tried only to impress and fasci- nate. She had a conception of Dorothy Manners, and it is ungrateful to record that IDA CONQUEST As Dorothy Manners in " Richard Carvel. Ida Conquest. 99 this conception nearly proved fatal, for Dorothy Manners in the play was not capable of analysis. She might have been felt, but she was not understandable. Mr. Rose did not develop her ; he simply presented her as a fact. He did not make her act from defi- nite motives ; she moved only according to the melodramatic exigencies of the present condition. Try to analyse Dorothy, and there are pit- falls everywhere. First one must write her down a heartless coquette, who fully deserves all the trouble that comes to her. Yet, so to consider her, immediately knocks all the props from under Mr. Rose's drama. We must sympathise with Dorothy or else we have no use for "Richard Carvel." Again, try to find reasonable conviction for the motive set forth for her marriage to the Duke of Char- tersea. Her father owes the duke money, we are told, and she must save the family honour. She accepts the situation on the in- 1 LofC. ioo Famous Actresses. stant. She demands no proof, and she makes no protest. She succumbs at once with spiritless childishness totally at variance with other well-defined phases of her char- acter. No, Dorothy Manners cannot be accepted as a study of character. She must be thrust upon one as an irresistible fascination. Miss Conquest might have done for Dorothy Man- ners what Mary Mannering did for Janice Meredith. Janice also defied analysis, but that did not prevent her from being a tri- umph of personal appeal. The most striking thing about Miss Con- quest in this part was a dark-coloured wig, which robbed the actress most strangely of her individuality. Nor was she as success- ful in depicting coquetry as one would have expected. When Miss Conquest had a chance to be sincere — there were several opportunities in the inn scene of the second act, and in the scene at the duke's house in Ida Conquest. 101 the third — she showed a hint of her capa- bilities. The part, however, was fantastic and unreal. Miss Conquest is essentially a portrayer of human beings. CHAPTER VII. PHCEBE DAVIES. A curious phenomenon of the theatre in this country is the fixed popularity of the so called "rural" drama. Melodrama in all its other forms, from the blood-curdling thrills of the Bowery, to the reality-racking adventures of chivalric nobility, has its ups and downs. Not so with the " rural " drama ; that goes on for ever. It is almost unneces- sary to note instances. There are "The Old Homestead," life-long companion of Denman Thompson, actor transplanted to the stage from New Hampshire ; and the prototype of "The Old Homestead," "Old Jed Prouty," to which Richard Golden always returns after experiments in other directions PHCEBE DAVIES. Phcebe Davies. 103 have made him impecunious ; " Shore Acres," the best of them all, and its companion piece, " Sag Harbour ; " " The County Fair," Neil Burgess's most cherished possession ; " The Village Postmaster," " Blue Jeans," and finally, "'Way Down East," quoted on the playbills as written by Lottie Blair Parker and elaborated by Joseph Grismer, which from 1897 to 1 90 1 served to exploit the talents of Phcebe Davies, an excellent, if by no means great, emotion actress. "'Way Down East" achieved its great popular success by clinging closely to con- ventionalities. It pleased the great majority, because it gave enough touches of life to flatter a crude sense of realism, and then padded thickly with gross sentimentality and ordinary virtue, which appealed to an unreason- ing sense of right and justice. " 'Way Down East " suggested real life only in a super- ficial and external way. There was no hint of the heart and soul of the people, such as 104 Famous Actresses. can be found in James A. Heme's plays. Indeed, life was portrayed by means of cari- cature rather than by honest representation or imitation. Nevertheless, however rough the method, there was no question of its effectiveness. Under ordinary circumstances, even the hardened theatregoer could not escape wholly its impression of reality. In the matter of sentiment, " 'Way Down East " belonged to the E. P. Roe school of literary thought. The downfall of Anna Moore was, in its essentials, a very human and even a very tragic story, just as the downfall of Tess in Thomas Hardy's novel was human and tragic. But notice the E. P. Roe touch that made the story " proper " but destroyed absolutely its truth. When Tess sinned, she sinned because she was a woman who loved and was ignorant. One was led to believe that such was the case with Anna Moore, until, to bring about a wedding without shocking any one's ideas Phcebe Davie s. 105 of propriety, he was informed that Anna Moore did not sin at all, but was deceived by a mock marriage. This was poor art and poor law as well, and it killed immediately any strength that the theme of the play might have possessed ; but it also made " 'Way Down East " immensely popular with the person to whom its sponsors catered, the average theatregoer. By her impersonation of Anna Moore Miss Davies plainly demonstrated that she had in full measure the great gift of sincerity. The part was almost a monotone — with one single comforting exception — from first to lpst the persecuted, long-suffering female, who, smitten on one cheek, turns with pathetic patience the other to the hand of the smiter. The single exception to the rule of non-resisting meekness came at the end of the third act, just before Anna disappeared in the whirl and rush and rattle of the most famous snow-storm that ever stormed regu- 106 Famous Actresses. larly eight times a week. On this carefully prepared occasion Anna slashed out in a fashion that won for her genuine respect. She showed that she had some spirit, after all ; that she was not wholly milk and mush sweetness, and for the first time one saw a chance of happiness for the bucolic David Bartlett should he marry her. These long-suffering, never-hit-back char- acters are a libel on humanity. There is E. S. Willard's favourite, Tom Pinch, that miserable specimen of a man who lets every- body in creation tread on his toes, taking as the reward of conscious virtue bucketsful of tears from the weakly sentimental mortals in the audience. When we see the pathetic smile quivering on the corners of Tom Pinch's mouth, we murmur, " Beautiful ! Beautiful ! " and when Pecksniff gives him a well-deserved dig in the ribs we cry out in sympathy, " Oh, the poor fellow ! Isn't that too bad ! " But, honestly now, what would you Phcebe Davies. 107 think of Tom Pinch out in the world ? Would you ever dream of considering him in any particular whatsoever the ideal man ? No, you would put him down as a harmless idiot, good enough, perhaps, to do chores about the house under the supervision of the tyrannous cook. Anna Moore was not as bad as Tom Pinch, largely because one can stand patient suffer- ing in a woman better than he can in a man — it is more usual. But, even in a woman, this sentimental characteristic of never strik- ing back does not amount to much outside of novels and plays. It is not genuine human nature. It is not an evidence of sportsman- like spirit. Mankind loves a fighter, and it is to the fighter that all the rewards of life go. Turning the other cheek is a theory in which no one seriously believes. There are many reasons why one may not find it neces- sary to return a blow with a blow, but there is absolutely no reason why one should lie 108 Famous Actresses. down and let another fellow walk over him, simply because the other fellow, confidently masterful, demands, with insolent assurance, one's person for a promenade. All the foregoing does not deny the powerful appeal to inconsistent humanity that a purely fictitious, passive sufferer, like Anna Moore makes, particularly if the char- acter be placed before one in the disguise of a personality so thoroughly sympathetic as that of Phcebe Davies, whose temperament is of itself tear-compelling, and whose sincer- ity is absolutely unmistakable. Miss Davies is not an actress of wide range ; but the comparatively few notes of emotional stress within her range are strikingly well con- trolled and undeniably effective. I noticed in her work but one false note, and I am not sure whether that was her fault or mine. Her sobbing at the end of the second act, after she had told David that she could be no man's wife, struck me as forced and Phoebe Davie s. 109 unnatural. However, this may have been my personal prejudice against that method of expressing overpowering emotion. But, after all, the really remarkable feature of her work was the fact that for three successive years she gave us an Anna Moore that was fresh, sincere and spontaneous, whose mechanics were hidden and whose appeal was undiminished. In this particular Miss Davies is strikingly different from Mrs. Fiske, whom to see twice in the same part means — for me, at least — complete disillu- sionment. The first time one experiences Mrs. Fiske in a new character, the impres- sion gained is one of marvellous spontaneity and striking reality. After a second experi- ence with the same part, however, one comes away fully convinced that the actress is noth- ing but an elaborate system of mechanics. With Miss Davies, however, the second and even the third impressions are practically the same as the first. Miss Davies acts from no Famous Actresses. within, outward. She recreates her charac- ter every time she presents it on the stage. Mrs. Fiske, on the other hand, creates her character once, and after that she copies the original creation down to the minutest details. Speaking of this feature of her work, Miss Davies said : " You cannot imagine how difficult it is to be impressed with any semblance of meaning in lines which have been repeated so often. Despite my best efforts, occasionally I catch my mind straying from the words even while I am speaking them. Of course, anything of the kind is fatal to the sincerity and genuine feeling which are so much in an impersona- tion like that of Anna. In order to overcome the tendency, I have committed to memory poems which had the power of arousing me, and have recited them to myself immediately before beginning my work in the third act of the piece. A dainty bit, entitled 'The Rosary,' served for awhile, and then I took Phoebe Davies. in refuge in Paul Laurence Dunbar's beautiful poem, 'The Sun.' When each had become merely a collection of phrases, I took to carrying this book about with me, and I read from it during each of the intermissions." Miss Davies held up to view a copy of "The Story of an African Farm." "My husband, Joseph Grismer," she con- tinued, "is very particular that the people under his direction shall constantly be 'in the picture,' by which he refers to that sympathetic interest which is broken by incongruous interruption. Mr. Grismer has requested frequently that the 'dumb show' conversations conducted in his dramas be relative to matters which might be discussed aloud with perfect consistency. He declares that it is possible to think almost along the lines laid down by the author, and I have learned that his ideas on this subject are of practical value. We " — Miss Davies alluded to the " 'Way Down East " company — " used 112 Famotis Actresses. to have a David Bartlett who, during Anna's attempt to attract the attention of the 'Squire, who has just ignored her, would whisper: nothing more than a combination of dramatic instinct and accu- mulated experience, polishes, rounds off, and displays to the best advantage both person- ality and method. Mrs. Fiske's method and art are the results of a stage experience that began as soon as she could talk and walk. They are both absolutely her own, based in the first place on a unique personality, and nur- tured by years of practical application in a range of impersonations far more comprehen- sive than that covered by any player of her age on the American stage. No one taught Mrs. Fiske her method and her art, and she can teach them to no one. In her case they are right, but for a youthful enthusiast she is the worst possible model. Mrs. Fiske appeared for the first time in " Becky Sharp," the comedy which Langdon Mitchell founded on William Makepeace Thackeray's novel, "Vanity Fair," in Mon- treal on September 4, 1899. There is really 122 Famous Actresses. very little use in bothering oneself about Mr. Thackeray in connection with Mr. Mitch- ell's play. Mr. Mitchell, to be sure, took unto himself ■ the names of many of Mr. Thackeray's best known personages, and Mrs. Fiske's actors grasped a few of the most obvious traits of those same personages. Mr. Mitchell ^also saw fit to handicap himself with a fair assortment of the happenings invented by Mr. Thackeray. However, Mr. Mitchell jumbled these happenings sadly, in a manner that would not have pleased Mr. Thackeray at all, and doubtless did not please the faithful among Mr. Thackeray's admirers, who saw " Becky Sharp " with the idea that they were going to have set before them a dramatic replicate of " Vanity Fair." As a matter of fact, " Becky Sharp " had very little of Thackeray in it. It is just as well, therefore, to throw aside at once all notions of Mr. Thackeray and his works and settle down to finding out what there was in Mrs. Fiske as Becky Sharp. 123 Mr. Mitchell's play that made it so very en- joyable. I think, if we study the play long enough and pry deeply enough into the mys- tery, we shall perceive that there really was nothing enjoyable — and, for that matter, little of anything substantial — about the play, considered entirely by itself. It was truly one of the most colourless dramas, from first to last, that ever was put upon the stage. Yet, in the face of this trustworthy fact, I am going to declare that I have passed few evenings at the theatre more delightful than the several for which "Becky Sharp" was responsible. Mrs. Fiske explained the para- dox, — Mrs. Fiske, whose captivating imper- sonation of Becky Sharp (whether it was Mr. Thackeray's Becky Sharp or Mr. Mitch- ell's Becky 'Sharp or Mrs. Fiske's Becky Sharp, I do not know and I do not care) in- spired rhapsodies. One is tempted to spread on paper a synonym book of adjectives, — brilliant, sparkling, scintillating, that sort of 124 Famous Actresses. thing, — but these, after all, are merely super- ficialities ; they convey an idea of the man- ner, but they give no notion of the spirit of Mrs. Fiske's characterisation. They tell noth- ing of the marvellous way in which her con- ception of Becky got across the footlights, nor of the wonderfully sympathetic understanding of the character that was vouchsafed those who sat in orchestra chairs. Never knew I insincerity to be shown with such convincing sincerity. Mrs. Fiske never glossed Becky's failings, — Becky's heartlessness, her selfishness, her flattering cajolery of her easy victims, her falseness to every one and everything except herself, — yet she never sacrificed Becky's charm. Even we mere lookers-on, while Becky played her game and moved so boldly her pawns and knights and bishops, felt her fascination, and, feeling in ourselves the spirit of the gambler, or perhaps being tempted by the brute desire to be master, we realised Mrs. Fiske as Becky Sharp. 125 that the satisfaction of conquering her was worth running the risk of being conquered by her. In this one particular of exciting sym- pathy, Mrs. Fiske certainly caught the spirit of the Thackeray Becky Sharp, that bewitch- ing sinner, whom one mentally condemns while he is sorry for her from the bottom of his heart. Yet there was little pathos in Mrs. Fiske's creation. Her Becky was clear pluck and grit all the way through. Just once she sat down before the fire and philosophised, wondered if any one ever got in this world exactly what he wanted, or ever wanted ex- actly what he got. There was pathos there. Again one felt its touch when Becky was face to face with Rawdon Crawley after her misadventure with Lord Steyne. There was no reason why one should be sorry for her ; if any one merited pity, it was Crawley, not Becky. Yet against his sense of justice one's compassion was for the woman. 126 Famous Actresses. Still, this Becky rarely condescended to sentiment ; she would far rather fight. She lived by pitting her woman's wit against the world. Her joy was in the contest, and she would rather fight and be beaten than not to fight at all. She always was beaten, too, and she knew that she always would be beaten, but she did not care — at least, not after the first bitter moment of disappoint- ment in defeat. She was, indeed, more happy down at the bottom, where there was nothing about which she could hold an illusion, than she was after she had made her way by hook or crook into social recognition and could say, " Poor fool I ! And I really believed that the gay world was gay." Nothing except the rarest union of actor and part could have made possible the im- pression left by Mrs. Fiske in this character. It was an instance of complete identification. I do not say that Mrs. Fiske met my precon- ceived notions of Thackeray's Becky Sharp, Mrs. Fiske as Becky Sharp. 127 but I do believe that she so fastened herself on the " Vanity Fair " character that, for the future, the Mrs. Fiske Becky Sharp and the Thackeray Becky Sharp will be inseparable. In Langdon Mitchell's play, Becky Sharp was twisted this way and that for the express purpose of exhibiting all her manifold and di- verse characteristics. During the first act we saw her artful wheedling of the acrious Miss Crawley, her cutting wit and biting sarcasm, her premature snaring of Rawdon Crawley, and the fascination she exerted on two such widely different personages as Sir Pitt Craw- ley and Pitt, his son. It was an act of bril- liant comedy, but an act of little value as an introduction to a play. Again, in the second scene, which showed the ball preceding the battle of Waterloo, the exhibition of Becky continued. This time it was Becky in society, a lodestone with tremendous at- tractions for every male being. Keen and ready of tongue, resourceful in the gentle art 128 Famous Actresses. of subtle flattery, mentally alert and marvel- lously accurate in her estimate of human nature, Becky ruled her little foppish world with despotism that made her the hated of every woman in sight. Finally, she impu- dently accosted Lord Steyne, and at last we felt that the action was under way. Unexpectedly, however, there comes a halt. Becky has retired to the background, and the most prominent thing in view is Joseph Sedley laboriously stepping out a dance. We listen to the chattering hum of the small talk blending with the music. A courier, who enters unannounced, attracts the atten- tion. He makes his way up the broad stair- case at the rear, salutes, and communicates with his general, salutes again, and retires. An instant later a woman's scream pierces the monotonous buzz, buzz, buzz, of conver- sation. A moment of startled silence, and, after a general burst of merriment, the tone- less buzz of talk is resumed. Amelia thought Mrs. Fiske as Becky Sharp. 129 that she heard the dull report of distant can- non. It was nothing. The courier reenters, this time with a companion. More salutes, more messages, salutes again, and the two pass out. But apprehension — almost unconscious ap- prehension — is forcing itself into the scene. Cannon thumping in the distance, cannon which no one hears definitely — not even we in the audience (which was a particularly suggestive stroke of stagecraft) — spread a shadow of menace over the scene. An exhausted soldier, mud-spattered and dishevelled, staggers into the hall and sprawls his way to the general's feet. In the follow- ing moment of silenced alarm, the thud of Napoleon's guns is distinctly audible. " Stop the music ! Stop the music ! " is the cry, and in the painful quiet all listen with fearful expectancy. It is the cannon ! Hark ! The bugle-call to arms ! Confusion, everywhere, officers dashing this way and that, sobbing farewells to loved ones, women 130 Famous Actresses. panicky and hysterical, all half-crazed except Becky Sharp. " There they go," she remarks, as her husband's regiment passes by with measured cadence. "There they go to die for their country, while I am dying for my break- fast.'' With the third act the play proper — that is, the intrigue of Becky with Lord Steyne — comes to the front, and the climax of this act, the disillusionment of Rawdon Crawley, although conventional, is extremely effective. Mrs. Fiske, with marvellous power, pictured dread, fear, and despair, not by means of violent action, but simply by doing nothing. With the third act the play ended, but was not finished. We never knew how Rawdon escaped the bailiff, and returned to his rooms. We never knew what became of him or what happened to Lord Steyne. Becky we found, in a succeeding episode, which was called a fourth act, in the midst of a disreputable Mrs. Fiske as Becky Sharp. 131 Bohemia, from which, when we left her, she apparently had a double chance of escaping. " Becky Sharp " was an impossible play, but Becky Sharp was a character that con- quered impossible plays. It was a brilliant contribution to the stage ; a scintillating comedy creation, which brought out into the bright daylight that peculiar caustic wit and that indescribable incisiveness of character exposition, which are so peculiarly Mrs. Fiske' s own. CHAPTER IX. HILDA SPONG. It is sincerely to be hoped that Hilda Spong will not be beguiled into embracing hurriedly some one of the many opportuni- ties to star that in the natural course of modern theatre management must seek her out. Of the making of stars there is no end, but of the making of actors, who some day or other will by right of ability be fitted for stars, there is none too great evidence. Miss Spong, it seems to me, is in the process of manufacture, a process which, I earnestly pray, may not be interrupted by the blan- dishments of the biggest letters on the three sheet posters. What fascinators these letters are, to be sure! But the wherefore 132 HILDA SPONG Hilda Spong. 133 of this is not altogether easy to comprehend. It is true that the new star, if fortunate enough to strike a money-magnetising suc- cess, may add a trifle to his income, but this little extra cash means the killing monotony of a single part, and a breathless dance over the length and breadth of a land thickly studded with one night stands. Yet the player-folk will do it every time they get a chance, and I presume that Hilda Spong is no exception to the general rule. Even now she is "featured." The day that sees her starring in some play commonplace enough to be popular will be set aside for gentle weeping. Hilda Spong possesses the actor's crown jewel, versatility, and versatil- ity is something for which the star has not the slightest use. This young Englishwoman — and she is young even to the condition of youthfulness — has advanced with leaps and bounds since she gave us the first taste of her quality 134 Famous Actresses. as Imogen Parrott, in the delightful Pinero comedy, " Trelawney of the Wells." Her Mrs. Bulmer, in "Wheels within Wheels," dazzled with its delicious light comedy and its charming womanliness, and made one curious regarding her ability in emotional work. That curiosity was amply gratified by her fine sincerity as Lady Beauvedere in "The Ambassador." Good opinion of Miss Spong's acting was further augmented by her appearances in " The Interrupted Honey- moon," although the piece itself was prac- tically a failure; in "A Man of Forty," which, however, afforded her but a single opportunity to make her quality felt ; and in " Lady Huntworth's Experiment," the first honours of which were easily hers. In personal appearance Miss Spong justi- fies the word " stunning." Still she is not a pretty woman — her nose will not allow it, though one might balance her regal blond- ness and her magnificent physique against Hilda Spong. 135 this one unfortunate feature. However, there are attractions more potent than mere per- fection of face or of form, and these other attractions Miss Spong has in abundance, — a personality that makes immediate conquest, rich temperamental force, graceful carriage, excellent repose, refined womanliness, and, infusing and overtopping all, an unmistakable atmosphere of intelligence and mental self- control. Her sense of humour, moreover, is distinct and alluring. Hilda Spong was born in London, Eng- land, on May 14, 1875. I n l888 sne went with her parents to Australia. Her first appearance on the stage was made at the Criterion Theatre, Sydney, in 1890, in "Joseph's Sweetheart." She was then a member of the Brough-Boucicault company, and her rise from small parts to leading busi- ness was exceedingly rapid. She played in comedy, in melodrama, and in Shakespeare, some of her parts being Bella in " School," 136 Famous Actresses. Rosalind in "As You Like It," Galatea in " Pygmalion and Galatea," Stella St. Clair in "A Million of Money," Hester Graybrook in " An Unequal Match," and the title parts in " Hazel Kirke " and " Sweet Lavender." When she was eighteen years old she made a starring tour in Australia and New Zealand as Rosalind, Juliet, Galatea, and other legiti- mate characters. She also acted the lame girl in "The Lost Paradise." Miss Spong's first appearance in London was made at the Drury Lane Theatre, under the management of John Coleman, in 1896, as the duchess in "The Duchess of Cool- gardie." Afterward she appeared in "The Kiss of Delilah," and she was also in the cast of "The Two Little Vagrants " in Lon- don. When " Trelawney of the Wells " was produced at the Court Theatre, in 1898, Miss Spong created the part of Imogen Par- rott, and it was in that character that she made her first appearance in this country Hilda Spong. 137 in November, 1898, as a member of Dan- iel Frohman's Lyceum Theatre Company. " Trelawney of the Wells " was followed during the season of 1898-99 with " Amer- icans at Home" and "An Amateur Re- hearsal." Miss Spong is the daughter of Walter Brooks Spong, an exhibitor at the Royal Academy and the Royal Institute of Water Colours. It is a peculiar fact that "Trelawney of the Wells," although plentifully supplied with local colour, was only a moderate success in London, while in this country, as presented by the New York Lyceum Theatre Company, it was one of the features of an unusually brilliant theatrical season. To account for this we have the statement of William Archer, the English critic, that the comedy was much better acted here than it was in London. The time of the drama was in the early sixties, just before the genius of Tom Robertson partially lifted the Eng- 138 Famous Actresses. lish stage from the chaotic state into which it had fallen after the passing of the Kem- bles and Macready. It was with the keenest delight that one witnessed the unfolding of Mr. Pinero's fas- cinating play, a light comedy of the most ex- traordinary novelty, of simple plot, of unique setting, and of masterful character-drawing. Indeed, a finer example of the comedy of manners and of character the modern stage cannot show, and it is not going far amiss to rank "Trelawney of the Wells" with those masterpieces of comedy, Goldsmith's "She Stoops to Conquer" and Sheridan's "The School for Scandal." "Trelawney of the Wells " was a wonderfully true, as well as exceedingly interesting, representation of actor life and conditions, not only of forty years ago but to a considerable degree of to-day. To be sure, there was just a touch of burlesque in some of Pinero's players, but it was burlesque that was an Hilda Spong. 139 accentuation rather than a caricature. It is unquestionably true that the actor himself, in a number of his most familiar phases, is himself a burlesque from the standpoint of the average man of affairs. The actor is marvellously apt to take with ponderous seri- ousness things which to the ordinary mortal are light and fantastic. How faithfully true was the self-esteem and vanity of these player- folk as pictured by Pinero ! Yet with what tenderness the dramatist showed their sim- plicity, generosity, and sympathy ! In spite of their petty jealousies and their profes- sional airs, how lovable they were ! What a wealth of humour in Gadd, who could never forget that he was the leading man of the Bagnigge Wells Theatre ; in Colpoys, low comedian among his friends as well as on the stage ; in Mr. and Mrs. Telfer, deep-dyed in the old declamatory school, whose proudest boast was that they had twice acted be- fore the queen ; in Avonia Bunn, the senti- 140 Famous Actresses. mentalist, whose forte was boys' parts in pantomime; in the whole-souled Imogen Parrott ! Humour in all except the pathetic Tom Wrench, so far removed from any hint of burlesque that he might have stood as the central figure of a tragedy. The play dealt primarily with the love affair of Rose Trelawney, an actress at the Bagnigge Wells Theatre, and Arthur Gower, a " swell," the grandson of the Vice-Chancel- lor, Sir William Gower. Secondarily entered into the plot the fortunes of Tom Wrench, a poor devil of an actor and a playwright, who had theories about naturalness on the stage, who also loved Rose, and in whom no one believed. The first act pictured the farewell dinner of the actors of the Bagnigge Wells Theatre to Rose, who was about to spend a period of probation with her betrothed's fam- ily. The second act showed Rose's boredom in the constrained life of Cavendish Square, her inability to adapt herself to her new envi- Hilda Spong. 141 ronment, the comical visit of her actor friends after their drenching in a sudden shower, and at last the rebellion of Rose against the petty conventionality and her return to the theatre. The third act struck a deeper note, and in it Mr. Pinero succeeded in bringing out the sad side of the actor's life with wonderful truth. There was the failure of Rose, whose heart had been expanded by love, and whose views of life had been changed by her new experiences, in her efforts to play with her former success the artificial heroines of the old dramas ; and there was the mighty joy of Tom Wrench, who caught a glimpse of heaven when the opportunity came to have his comedy pro- duced. There was pathos even in Ferdinand Gadd, "a serious actor," as he called him- self, forced to accept the part of the Demon of Discontent in a Boxing-day pantomime. The last act depicted the first rehearsal of Wrench's play, showed the bringing together 142 Famous Actresses. of Arthur Gower, now an actor, and Rose, and the reconciliation of the two with Sir William. To sum up briefly the effect of the com- edy : The first act was the most interesting ; the second act was the funniest, indeed, al- most farcical at times, though there was an underlying strain of seriousness which at the end became predominant; the third act, as already stated, was the most serious, and the last act was the most original, the most subtle as regards motive, and, in spite of these virtues, the least effective theatrically. The play was developed with remarkable ease, and the dialogue, as was to be expected from Pinero, was of the finest quality. The curtains of the third and last acts were H erne-like in their simplicity, that of the third act falling as Wrench was about to read his play, and the drama ending with the simple and suggestive speech by Wrench, "Now let the rehearsal proceed." Hilda Spong. 143 Hilda Spong's Imogen Parrott was a bus- tling, nonchalant sort of person, fair of face and free of manner, good-natured, kind- hearted, and with a growing fondness for Tom Wrench. Miss Spong had the part, which, however, gave not a hint of her pos- sible versatility, at her finger tips, as it were. As Mrs. Bulmer in R. C. Carton's " Wheels within WTieels," Miss Spong displayed a sense of humour so perfect that one longed then and there for a chance to test the ac- tress's resource in expressing genuine emotion in the same character. The opportunity was not granted, however, there being only a trifle of sentimentality at the very end of the play, which counted for little. Yet Mrs. Bulmer was a woman capable of deep feeling, and it was a pity that Mr. Carton did not reveal her human, as well as her humourous side. For- tunately for the dramatist, "Wheels within Wheels " was a farce, and therefore not to be held accountable for its vagrancies. It is not 144 Famous Actresses. necessary to dwell on its impossible plot nor its curiously inexplicable characters, though, if " Wheels within Wheels " had been a com- edy, this latter point would have furnished in- teresting matter for critical attention. The characters were understandable enough by themselves, but, after the frivolously-minded Lady Curtoys ran away with the seductive Egerton Vartrey in a blindly foolish fashion, suggestive of Lady Jessica in Henry Arthur Jones's "The Liars," their humanity dashed down the main staircase and out of the front door. Mrs. Bulmer's interference with Lady Cur- toys' s plans was right enough, even if it were, perhaps, borrowed from "Lord and Lady Algy," but her method of so doing, which somehow or other brought to mind Mrs. Trevelyan and "The Degenerates," was out- side the bounds of human nature. No woman — not even such an altogether good fellow as Mrs. Bulmer — would have deliberately Hilda Spong. 145 ruined herself in the eyes of the man she loved for the sake of such an unappreciative little minx as Lady Curtoys, or for such a selfish egotist as Sir Philip Curtoys. Right there was the weak point in Mr. Carton's play. He sadly misread humanity. A woman might go to considerable lengths in defying public opinion, but she was not go- ing to run the unforgivable risk where the man upon whom she had seriously fixed her affections was concerned. In Mrs. Craigie's "The Ambassador" Miss Spong was fortunate in being cast in the only character in the comedy that made an impression of reality or had truth enough to excite sympathetic interest. Consequently her Lady Beauvedere easily walked away with the honours of this production. It was the representation of a noble, whole-souled woman stifling her love, even assisting the man who had unconsciously won this love, into the affections of another. Miss Spong' s Famous Actresses. acting throughout was noteworthy for its quiet suggestiveness, its rich emotional col- ouring, and its womanly appeal. "The Interrupted Honeymoon," a three- act comedy by F. Kinsey Peile, said to have been his maiden effort, was originally pro- duced at the Avenue Theatre, London, on September 23, 1899. It was first acted at Daly's Theatre, New York, on March 20, 1900. It was a mixture of farcical comedy and social drama, and not particu- larly effective as regards either component. The first was the only really good act, and the total result of the play was slight, con- ventional, and rather impotent. Regarding Miss Spong' s work Norman Hapgood wrote : " Hilda Spong has the fulcrum part — the married lady who (so naughty, familiar, and, of course, frank and engaging) smokes those cigarettes (off, thank fortune !) and impetu- ously compromises herself. Miss Spong again showed herself an actress of sure abil- Hilda Spong. 147 ity. In some of the flippant parts her gaiety was not very easy nor natural, but all the real situations she acted with satisfying adequacy and finish. Her method is a good one, not too much in vogue. She never tries to suggest things by elongated pauses, as is the fashion. She does not under-express. Hers is expres- sion, not suppression, and it is a relief." The New York season of 1 900-1 901 of Daniel Frohman's Company began at Daly's Theatre on November 26, 1900, with the production of "The Man of Forty," by Walter Firth. This proved practically a failure, and Miss Spong' s part in the comedy was conventional, and of no great account. "The Man of Forty" was succeeded by R. C. Carton's "Lady Huntworth's Experi- ment," which proved successful. Miss Spong' s part in this play was prominent, and later, when the company went on the road, she was featured almost as a star. " Lady Huntworth's Experiment " was novel 148 Famous Actresses. in theme, and superficially satirical in the treatment of that theme. Lady Huntworth had just submitted to being divorced by her drunken and dissolute husband, preferring to be under the ban of society rather than under the domination of such a legal lord. She sought refuge in the kitchen of the Rev. Audley Pillenger, passing herself off as a cook, and reducing to immediate and sub- servient submission every man about the place, from the vicar himself down to the butler. This state of affairs resulted in a merry game of hide-and-seek, which ended when Lady Huntworth made her adieu to the startled vicar in her right person, and left for London gorgeously arrayed in an elaborate gown. The part did not demand from Miss Spong anything except gentility, personal charm, and farcical cleverness. She had no heights nor depths of feeling to en- compass, but her light comedy was always delicious, and her womanliness distinct. CHAPTER X. ANNIE RUSSELL IN LIGHT COMEDY. I have in mind an ideal play for Annie Russell, a play not yet written, still un- formed and unthemed, a great drama of modern life, comedy of course, but comedy that treats seriously of humanity and of human conditions. It is not a drama of vio- lent action nor of strained conditions, but a drama of tremendous depth and vitality, a drama of conviction, and a drama of pur- pose. Such a play would demand all that an imaginative and sympathetic artist could give. It would be worthy of Annie Russell, and Annie Russell would be worthy of it. However, Miss Russell is by no means all sentiment and emotion. She has humour as well, and this humour, delicate and delicious, 149 150 Famous Actresses. found expression most gracefully in Jerome K. Jerome's fantastic light comedy, "Miss Hobbs," and in R. Marshall's still more fantas- tic satire, " A Royal Family." " Miss Hobbs," although by an English author, was originally produced at the Lyceum Theatre, New York, on September 7, 1899, with Miss Russell in the name part. The play was not seen in London till December 1 8th. " Miss Hobbs " was a rarely delightful entertainment, for Miss Hobbs dwelt in a fancy-land of senti-, ment, where men and women, although they did have their little faults of temper and their little peculiar quirks of disposition, were, nevertheless, true and honest, without hyp- ocrisy or serious blemish ; a fancy-land in which love, pure and idealistic, was the su- preme ruler ; where there was no real trouble because there was nothing ignoble ; where the men were all brave and tender, and the women all beautiful and good. Unfortunately, Mr. Jerome made this thor- ANNIE RUSSELL As Miss Hobbs in " Miss Hobbs." Annie Russell in Light Comedy. 151 oughly desirable locality somewhere near New York City, which definiteness, without adding anything to his drama in the way of atmosphere or colour, robbed it of a certain imaginative force that could have been re- tained just as well as not. Mr. Jerome spoke of Delmonico's and he made refer- ences to Yale, both of which were not only unnecessary, but distinctly shocking and disillusionising to one who had become com- pletely ensnared by the charming "make- believe" that was passing on the stage. Sometime playwrights will learn that fixed and materialistic locale, when it does not further the dramatic action, is more con- vincing when absent than when present. The imagination works all the better for not being pinned down to a street and number, when the street and number are of absolutely no importance. Except for this rather minor detail, how- ever, faultfinding with " Miss Hobbs " must 152 Famous Actresses. practically cease. Mr. Jerome's play was light comedy of the finest quality, — light comedy that coquetted blithely with farce, even stepping quickly over the line here and there, but as quickly stepping back again. If " Miss Hobbs " had been a trifle ruder in its fun, — perhaps if it had been acted with a bit less of style and finesse, — it would have been farce throughout. As it was given by Annie Russell and her associates, however, the comedy element was more potent than the farcical element. Indeed, it seemed to me that " Miss Hobbs " was really a difficult play to act up to. Its very uncertainty made it so. To be at its best, it required in all its characters the delicate, the subtle, and the suggestive touch of the high-grade comedy actor. Mr. Jerome's personages were neither types nor caricatures. They came amazingly near being human beings. Nor was his wit of the sledge-hammer variety. It demanded some keenness of perception to grasp it com- Annie Russell in Light Comedy. 153 pletely. In other words, Mr. Jerome did not deal extensively in made-to-order epigrams. His lines had dramatic value in that they fitted, not only the situations, but the char- acters as well. Indeed, it needed both the situations and the characters to give the lines point and full value. This was, of course, the most artistic kind of dialogue, for it was dialogue that lent its important aid to char- acter exposition. Mr. Jerome's construction was excellent throughout. His play started at once without any preliminary warming up. While many of his situations were ingenious, not one of them — with the possible excep- tion of the yacht scene — had the taint of mechanism pure and simple. Moreover, the action kept going right up to the fall of the final curtain, realising at the very end a situation that was of itself a very gem of unexpected and beaming comedy. Although "Miss Hobbs " seemed to me- ander along its happy way without the least 154 Famous Actresses. effort on the part of any one in particular, it was true, I think, that to prevent it from being well-nigh a complete failure on the stage, the comedy required exceptionally fine acting in all its important characters. I can not imagine a passably good performance of the piece. Merely ordinary playing could result only in failure. There was nothing theatric about the comedy. It had no cli- maxes that practically played themselves, no great scenes in which the dramatic conflict was strongly indicated, no broad strokes of surface character-drawing, such as delight the conventional actor. The ordinary player would have 1 found " Miss Hobbs " wofully lacking in strength and incisiveness. He would have seen nothing, either in action or in character, on which he could have fastened with surety. Unable to grasp the complex- ity inherent in the very naturalness of Mr. Jerome's personages, he would have been confounded by their apparent simplicity. Annie Russell in Light Comedy. 155 " Miss Hobbs " offered splendid opportu- nities for character exposition only to the player who could create, and who had, be^ yond the dramatic instinct which is the sole equipment of so many actors, a broad and sympathetic understanding of mankind as it really is, not as stage tradition says that it should be. Such a creation must be built up step by step, and at the expense of mental effort that comprehends something more than the mere mastery of the lines. The imagina- tion must be called upon to picture what manner of man is here embodied, and the ingenuity must be taxed to invent ways and means by which the individual thus conjured up can be most understandingly brought be- fore the spectator across the footlights. That the playwright is wise to place so heavy a burden on his actors is doubtful. It seems to me an unwarranted shirking of responsi- bility to demand that the players join with him in the trials of authorship. Moreover, 156 Famous Actresses. he endangers seriously the success of his play, even if he be fortunate enough, as Mr. Jerome was in the case of " Miss Hobbs," to secure the cooperation of actors whose intelli- gence and artistic attainments permit them to share in the partnership of character-draw- ing. Even they cannot reach the full breadth of their powers at once. They must have time to perfect and to elaborate. To show that this was the process by which " Miss Hobbs," as it was acted later in the season, came into being, let me quote from Norman Hapgood's review of the first presentation of the play in New York : " The play is so badly constructed that in spite of its lightness it drags not infrequently. There is not enough 'business,' not enough points of the emphatic, dramatic kind. Even the good acting could not conceal that. Prob- ably more business will be supplied later. As it is now, there are painful pauses between speeches and between the few details in- Annie Russell in Light Comedy. 157 tended to supply theatrical exigencies. It contains no characters and no ideas, but nimbly plays with both." However true that may have been of the first performance, — and I have no doubt that it was strictly true at the time it was written, — it was certainly not true of " Miss Hobbs " when I saw it. Good acting — or, better still, wholly adequate acting — did conceal what Mr. Hapgood called bad construction. The drag had disappeared because the play- ers had learned by experience how best to emphasise, by both delivery and accompany- ing action, the points in Mr. Jerome's dia- logue. There were plenty of points, though few were penned for persons with skulls eight inches thick. Mr. Hapgood's statement that " Miss Hobbs " contained no characters, showed an odd lack of appreciation of pos- sibilities, for which the undeveloped acting was again to blame. " Miss Hobbs " was, more than anything else, a comedy of charac- 158 Famous Actresses. ter. To be sure, its personages were not bundles of exaggerations and eccentricities ; they approached life so closely that they could not be satisfactorily labelled. The great dramatic character, to my mind, is not the one most easily understood, not the one that can be summed up in a breath, not the one that is instinctively classified. The great dramatic character is complex, mystifying, and, under certain circumstances, even illogical ; neither wholly good nor wholly bad ; a creation of subtle motive, of varied impulse and of conflicting emotion. Such a character is an intellectual stimulus. It has to be studied, turned this way and that, viewed from all sides and under diversified conditions. The dramatist provides the means of exhibition ; the actor is the exhib- itor. He personifies the dramatist's concep- tion ; he interprets and explains ; but, more than all, he makes the figure of the imagina- tion a living reality. That was what Annie Annie Russell in Light Comedy. 159 Russell, Mrs. Gilbert, Charles Richman, and Clara Bloodgood did with their characters in " Miss Hobbs." It was, indeed, a great pleasure to see Miss Russell in a light comedy part. I was by no means surprised at her command of this diffi- cult variety of acting. Her art is rich and full, combining, in just the right proportions, force and intensity with convincing sincerity, a profusion of womanly sentiment with a quaint and provoking humour that is entirely her own, a rare command of pathos with the rarer gift of compelling smiles with the tears. In "Miss Hobbs" the bright side of Miss Russell's art was seen at its best, though the part did not begin to reach the bed-rock of her resources. Miss Russell's study of Miss Hobbs showed a very feminine woman, whom one knew was born to love and to be loved, yet who professed to believe that her mission here below was to rescue womankind from brute man. This perverted state of 160 Famous Actresses. mind was the result of early circumstances combined with inexperience, neither of which provided the slightest defence against the vigorous, if somewhat original and uncon- ventional, wooing of Wolff Kingsearl. The saving grace of this — to say the least — very unusual personage was, according to Miss Russell, a delicious sense of humour, which, in spite of Miss Hobbs's pose of stern- ness, would creep into the corners of her mouth and shine tantalisingly in her eyes. This single quality made Miss Hobbs very real and very fascinating. One got to like her so much that he was susceptible, because he could comprehend her point of view, to the very slight undercurrent of pathos in the last act. "A Royal Family," Captain R. Marshall's three-act comedy, was originally presented in the Court Street Theatre, London, on Octo- ber the 14th, 1899. Annie Russell first appeared in the play in the Lyceum Theatre, Annie Russell in Light Comedy. 161 New York City, on September 5, 1900. " A Royal Family ,,? had enough originality — not in theme, for that was old, but in treat- ment — to make it worth investigating. Cap- tain Marshall described his work as a comedy of romance, but a comedy of satire and senti- ment would have been a more correct sum- ming "up of this delightful product of a whimsical imagination. There was an unmistakable suggestion of W. S. Gilbert in the satire of the comedy, the same topsy-turviness that was charac- teristic of the author of "Pinafore." Cap- tain Marshall's shaft was aimed at royalty, and with the most punctilious care he pre- sented their Highnesses in the midst of all their spectacular trappings, but robbed of the awesome demi-godism so essential to their dignity. He showed that, though they posed skilfully enough in public, they were but ordinary men and women after all, and he made them supremely ridiculous by insist- 1 62 Famous Actresses. ing that they were as petty and as common- place as the rest of mankind. Shakespeare once remarked, " Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown." Of course, every one recognises the truth of this saying, but still he thinks within himself that he would like nothing better than to take a chance at being uneasy. He pictures this uneasiness to himself as heroically grand. He fancies that the king's sleepless nights are due to worrying about the welfare of the people, that his weary days result from unre- mittent labours in ameliorating the conditions of the poor. The kingly head may be un- easy, he thinks, but the heart within the kingly body must, as a recompense, glow continually with satisfaction and pride over great opportunities nobly utilised. Captain Marshall also believed that "un- easy lies the head that wears a crown," but the cause of this uneasiness, according to his idea, was neither inspiring nor entranc- Annie Russell in Light Comedy. 163 ing. In fact, he regarded the job of king with contemptuous amusement. His decla- ration was that kingly uneasiness resulted from plain, ordinary, plebeian boredom, — utter weariness due to a continual effort to live up to the popular notion of what a king ought to be. According to Captain Marshall, — and after listening to his argument, one was in- clined to agree with him, — a king is that most wretched of human beings, an abject slave to rule and order, to etiquette and con- ventionality. So far from being able to do what he likes, or to enjoy himself as he pleases, his day is parcelled out for him in a most exasperating fashion — never a minute for private contemplation of his own greatness, always on exhibition, always pretending to be something that he is not, making believe that he feels something that he feels not, acting as if he were high and mighty, when in reality he has a kindly heart, a simple nature, and a troublesome 164 Famous Actresses. appreciation of the ridiculousness of his pose. Hopelessly lonely, too, is a king. As Louis of Arcadia plaintively remarked to his good friend the Cardinal, there are only about ten monarchs in Europe that amount to anything ; and royal calls, the Dowager Queen shrewdly pointed out, cannot be frequently indulged in, on account of the appalling expenses that accompany them. Finally, what of the ruler of a people who could not coax nor compel obedience from his own children ? The diminutive Prince Charles was manifestly not in the least in terror of his royal papa, while the Princess Angela, a fetching combination of modern independence and fifteenth century romance, refused positively to obey the royal commands, thus causing evident embarrass- ment in her father, who, for a king whose specialty should have been stern, unrelenting authority, was absurdly fond of her. No one was likely to cherish unchristianlike envy of Annie Russell in Light Comedy. 165 Captain Marshall's king. Indeed, had not the gentleman been so good-natured and so humourou sly a. ware of the anomaly of his own position, his portentous helplessness might well have been a reason for tears, instead of a cause 'for laughter. The king himself, to be sure, was philosophically resigned. He could not help being a king, unfortunate as that fate was, and he was sportsman enough to make the best of an unpleasant circum- stance. Plainly King Louis would have been the best of good fellows, if he had not been compelled to reign. He was naturally gener- ous and tactfully considerate, but, being a king, he had to stifle these excellent qualities. He was obliged to make himself obnoxious to those about him because his position de- manded that he continually keep his " front " in view. This necessity bored him tremen- dously, and it also bored every one that came near him. But Louis's lot was almost a happy one 1 66 Famous Actresses. when it was compared with that of the un- fortunate queen dowager. Nothing satisfied her. The four horses — she would have been highly insulted if there had not been at least four — that dragged the vehicle bearing her august person to the royal wedding were, in her own words, "mere animals." Common princesses and doubtful duchesses passed her on the way, and when she reached the church she was inconsiderately shoved into a pew marked "For distinguished strangers." More- over, the trumpeters, who announced her at court functions, never made noise enough to please her. Her edifying reminiscences of the king's youth were never listened to, her advice was not heeded, and when there was any managing to do, she, who dearly loved to manage, was not permitted the slight happiness of making suggestions. Verily an afflicted royal family, for even the diminutive Prince Charles, whose length of life had not exceeded five years, was con- Annie Rtcssell in Light Comedy. 167 stantly in trouble. He never could do what he wanted to do, and he never wanted to do what he had to do. He was forced to eat bread and butter when he preferred pink- frosted cake, and in spite of his numerous attendants he arrived at a solemn ceremonial without his pocket handkerchief, and was obliged to send a dignified courtier after it. War threatened this fanciful kingdom of Arcadia at the opening of the play, but war was impossible, though the enthusiastic peo- ple clamoured for it loudly and persistently. The army could not fight, for it had not mastered the new drill regulations. More- over, its guns were ineffective, and there was no money to replace them, the funds having been spent on some newfangled electrical cannon, which refused to shoot as they were expected to. War could be pre- vented only by marrying the Princess Angela to Victor, the crown prince of the hated enemy. Princess Angela, however, had been 1 68 Famous Actresses. reading "Romeo and Juliet," and objected seriously to being thus diplomatically sacri- ficed. She was a charming girl, this prin- cess, only nineteen years old, and one did not blame her a bit for her lack of patriotism. She had never seen the crown prince, of course, but still, her kingly father's argu- ment, that this circumstance should have made her wholly unprejudiced in the matter of marrying him, was not thoroughly sound. Naturally, in the kingdom of Arcadia there was a cardinal, — a wily, wise, and altogether delightful old fellow, — and naturally, too, he undertook to steer the unsophisticated and obstinate princess safely into the desired matrimonial port. He did it, too, though a Chief of Police, who detected crime by method, — first suspicion, then investigation, and fi- nally action, — seemed determined to blunder the Cardinal's plans into nought. Incognito as a humble count, and in a romantic wood^ land setting thoughtfully provided by the Annie Russell in Light Comedy. 169 Cardinal, the prince wooed and won his prin- cess. Moreover, he succeeded in arriving safely at his betrothal although he was once arrested by the aforesaid Chief of Police for abducting himself. It will be readily perceived that the love story, which was the pivot around which " A Royal Family " revolved, was warranted strictly sentimental, but Captain Marshall es- caped the charge of mawkishness, by refusing to be serious. He was not ashamed of his romancing, and his imagination was vivid enough, his idealism sincere enough, and his sentiment honest enough, to make one willing to spurn for a time the dull earth, and enjoy with him poetised love. He cloaked his fancy with genuine humour, and thus prevented it from being ridiculous. The balance of sound sense was constantly main- tained by the keenness of the dramatist's satire, and the incisiveness of his wit. " A Royal Family " was crowded with lines that 170 Famous Actresses, bit. They were rarely epigrams neatly turned, but they were of a more insinuating nature, the subtle pinning of some sham or foible. Often these were merely suggestions, and always they required at least a modi- cum of intelligent thought in order to be appreciated. In its workmanship Captain Marshall's play was equally admirable. The light touch was ever manifest — no hurry, no boisterousness, no vulgarity. Novel situa- tions were abundant, and they were not forced upon one, either, as stage exigencies. The tree scene of the second act was a mine of comedy, not only as a situation, but as a means for character-juggling as well. The interest in the action was stimulated and held to the very end, and the final stroke in the betrothal scene was a masterpiece of senti- ment that left one smiling, happy, and thoroughly satisfied. There was a single weakness in the play, which could be ac- Annie Russell in Light Comedy, iji counted for only on the supposition that Captain Marshall expected to do one thing, and drifted into doing another. This weak- ness centred in the extraneous matter that had to do with that mysterious and purpose- less body known as the Arcadian Patriots. There was nothing in any of this of the least dramatic value, and the little point of the suspicions of the Chief of Police, regarding the disguised Prince Victor's imaginary rela- tions with the band, could readily have been arranged by some expedient less elaborate. Father Anselm's love for Angela was prob- ably introduced with the idea that a strong dramatic situation could be developed by con- trasting this pure, unselfish affection, with the priest's accidental connection with the Patriots. Whatever the dramatist had in mind, nothing came of it, and either he for- got to cut away this useless timber, or else he -was so enamoured of Father Anselm's devotion to Angela,, that he had not the 172 Famous Actresses. moral courage to sacrifice him on the altar of artistic consistency. All satire must have a substantial basis of truth to be effective. Satire does not consist in lying, but, to quote the diplomatic Duke of Barascon in " A Royal Family," in pictur- esquely adapting the truth. Satire may be caustic, or it may be simply humourous. If caustic, the element of denunciation is strongly suggested, if not actually ex- pressed. If poking fun be the only end in view, the satire will be devoid of partisan- ship. It will be ridiculous without being es- sentially cruel. The person satirised is likely enough to squirm, unless he have the thick- est of skins, but his squirming is expected as a part of the game. The most common methods of satire are exaggeration and in- congruity. The latter was Captain Mar- shall's chief weapon of offence. There is nothing more necessary to royalty than per- sonal dignity and consistent aloofness. A Amiie Russell in Light Comedy. 173 king eating terrapin from a gold dish is an inspiring spectacle, but a king devouring corned beef and cabbage from table d'hote crockery, is an object for unreverential mirth. " A Royal Family " displayed a king wres- tling with corned beef and cabbage. However, " A Royal Family " was not all satire. Indeed, satire was merely the delect- able seasoning of an exceedingly nai've quality of romantic sentiment, sentiment as innocent of worldliness as the fairy tale of Cinderella and the Prince. It was a pretty tale, — that of the rebellious princess, who, refusing to wed without love, learned to love the man she must wed, — but it was a pretty tale simply and solely because it was prettily told. It was the manner that won, not the story itself. Therefore Captain Marshall was doubly and triply fortunate in having his sweet, but somewhat colourless, heroine clothed with the personality of Annie Rus- sell. I suspect that it was not altogether an 174 Famous Actresses. easy task to imbue this dream child of roy- alty with winsomeness that at the same time was untainted with familiarity, with wilful- ness that was without obstinacy, with fresh girlishness that had not a hint of repellent forwardness. Purity and innocence were the fundamentals of the character. Purity and innocence are difficult to present on the stage as facts, though one can readily enough be coaxed into accepting them as self-imposed illusions. There was the least hint of affectedness and artificiality in Miss Russell's work in the first act, that made one feel that even she, with her penetrating, though delicate, charm, was battling with self-consciousness in her effort to make this extraordinary princess sympathetically real and humanly genuine. The result was that while one found Angela lovable, he did not recognise the full power of her fascinations until her sentimental and unsophisticated views of the world were soft- Annie Russell in Light Comedy. 175 ened by her full, free, and natural enjoyment of life, untrammelled and unfettered by un- wholesome pettiness and espionage. Then one perceived the beautiful honesty of her innocence. This second act of "A Royal Family " had much of the beauty of the woo- ing scenes of Rosalind and Orlando in "As You Like It," the sweet humour, suggestive roguishness, and girlish frankness of Angela being strikingly remindful of Rosalind. While Miss Russell's princess was all ten- der maidenliness, untarnished by contact with the world, and revelling in illusions, she was also a girl thoroughly healthy minded and sen- sible. She wore her heart on her sleeve, but one loved her none the less for that. Beyond this I have no especial desire to analyse her — probably I could not if I wished to. I know that she was altogether charming, and just as full of innocent mischievousness as she was of unmasked sincerity and truth. / CHAPTER XI. VALERIE BERGERE. Through the medium of an unusually- impressive one-act tragedy, and undeniably vulgar three-act farce, Valerie Bergere, an actress of grace, youth, and beauty, made herself known during the season of 1900- 190 1 to a thoroughly pleased public. Miss Bergere had been well trained for the display of versatility that the change from tragedy to farce demanded, for her work had been confined chiefly to stock companies. Succes- sive seasons of this irksome routine had given her well-rounded technique and admirable resource. Probably, until David Belasco took her in hand, she lacked neatness and finish, for those are qualities that no one can 176 Valerie Bergere. 177 acquire in a stock company that has the weekly change of bill habit. However, this is only surmise. There was no noticeable lack either of neatness or of finish in her pres- entations of Cho-Cho San in "Madame But- terfly," and of Cora in "Naughty Anthony." In "Madame Butterfly," David Belasco, genuinely touched probably by the deep pathos of the tragedy, Japanese in setting, but world-wide in humanness, succeeded in putting a story on the stage with scarcely any resort to pure theatricalism. This was an extraordinary thing for David Belasco, whose chief characteristic as a playwright has always been his abiding insistence on theatrical effect, regardless of every consid- eration of logic, human nature, or probability. Only once in "Madame Butterfly" did the Belasco instinct for mere effect get wholly beyond control ; it was when he permitted a gleam of light to illumine in unnatural fash- ion Cho-Cho San's face as she lay dead. It 178 Famous Actresses. was palpably electric light from an incandes- cent hidden somewhere in the gown that the actress wore ; and when it blazed forth, illu- sion, affronted, quickly departed. Instantly Japan vanished ; only the stage of a theatre was left. Yet there were many things to impress one in the staging of this dramatic gem, not one of them more original in conception, more audacious in execution, or more sure in effect, than the dramatic episode of silence and suspense, with its delicate hints for the stimulation of the imagination, which marked the passing of Madame Butterfly's night of weary watchfulness for the return of her American husband. Without affectation, one was enticed into living in thought those long, long hours. Nightfall coming, found Madame Butterfly, with the child and one attendant, beginning the vigil. Darkness deepened, and the child slept. Lamps were lighted, -shone brightly, VALERIE BERGERE As Cho-Cho San in " Madame Butterfly. Valerie Bergere. 179 flickered and burned themselves out. The servant slept by the side of the child. Still motionless at her peep-hole in the screen stood little Cho-Cho San, looking, looking, waiting, waiting — watching while the night hours dragged away, watching amid the dawning, shivering at her post in the keen morning air, pitiful always in her loneliness. And we passed the hours with her, felt all their dreary length in ten minutes ! Founded on truth, conceived in sincerity, and revealed with simplicity, " Madame But- terfly," with its commonplace tale of the love of a woman, appealed to the universally human with rare power and directness. It effused kindliness, tenderness, and generosity. Sweeping away the barrier of smirking con- vention and the pose of self-complacent artifi- ciality, it bore down on the heart, and stirred richly the sympathies. It caused the tears to flow. Words seemed almost superfluous for its interpretation, and its influence was i8o Famous Actresses. felt mightily through acting that was by no means idealising. For Cho-Cho San de- manded the ingenuous, vivid, and suggestive art of a Sada Yacco. However, stepping down from the aerial plane of idealism to matter-of-fact possibility, there was very little to condemn and a great deal to praise in Miss Bergere's impersona- tion. While she never completely realised the atmosphere of the character, — the Japan- ese of it, — she never failed to suggest it. If she was not actually Japanese, she was at least a very close and satisfactory imitation of Japanese. As far as the mere expres- sion of emotion, — and this is saying much, when emotion was so subtle and at the same time so far-reaching as it was in " Madame Butterfly," — she was always true and always sincere. She never failed to strike the right note. Indeed, so convincing was her Cho-Cho San, that her translation into the vivacious Valerie Bergere. 181 light comedy — or, more exactly, farce — of " Naughty Anthony " was a shock as well as a surprise. Had her personality in this part been a whit less winning, or her abandon in the least tinged with grossness, she would certainly have been wholly lost. For Cora, the hosiery model, was far from being an ele- vating example of feminine virtue, although, for Miss Bergere's sake, one was willing, even anxious, to write her down a paragon of frolicsome innocence, a harmlessly au- dacious young thing, whose safeguard was her giddy guiltlessness. Of course, that was simply personality getting in its fine work, for impersonally, " Naughty Anthony," al- though the dialogue contained not a single indecent line, was morally indefensible, all the worse for being cunningly suggestive instead of bluntly bad. Valerie Bergere is a California girl, and her theatrical career began in the East only a comparatively few years ago. Playgoers 1 82 Famous Actresses. of even the shortest memories remember a melodrama called " On the Bowery." It was the work of Robert N. Stephens, then a dramatic writer in Philadelphia, who since has taken far higher flights as play- wright and novelist. His romantic drama, "An Enemy to the King," is equally well known in novel form, while his " Philip Win- wood " has made him the friend of a wide circle of readers. " On the Bowery " was designed to exploit the histrionic talents of the recently deceased Steve Brodie, who once astonished the world by jumping from the Brooklyn Bridge into the East River. "On the Bowery" started its triumphant career in Philadelphia at the beginning of the season of 1894, and everywhere drew crowded houses of breathless spectators, who expected to witness a stage duplication of Brodie' s bridge-jumping feat. This sen- sational scene, however, proved to be more disappointing than exciting, and the audi- Valerie Bergere. 183 ences, therefore, turned to more interesting features of the entertainment. One of these was Miss Bergere' s impersonation of a tough girl, without which no play of the Bowery could be complete. Miss Bergere filled this sketchy part to perfection, and the following season she further distinguished herself in a humble way in "The White Rat," another play by Mr. Stephens, which likewise exploited life in the lower sections of New York. In 1897 Miss Bergere became the leading woman of a hard-working stock company in Philadelphia, where she remained for two seasons, proving herself one of the most painstaking, efficient, and popular members of the organisation. Success after success in the constantly changing bills was credited to her, her Carmen and Madame Sans Gene being received with especial favour. During part of the season of 1 899-1900, she was the leading woman of the Dearborn Stock x g4 Famous Actresses. Company of Chicago, where her Kate Ver- non, in " In Mizzoura," is still remembered. In the season of 1900-1901, came her "Madame Butterfly" and "Naughty An- thony" experience. Miss Bergere is the wife of John J. Farrell, well known in Philadelphia as the leading man of the Forepaugh Stock Company. CHAPTER XII. MARY MANNERING AS A STAR. Mary Mannering's suddenly attained popularity as a star was one of the sur- prising and logically unaccountable features of the dramatic season of 1 900-1 901. Its exact duplicate I do not remember. 'It is true that two seasons ago Viola Allen ar- rived at the dignity of established stardom with marvellous suddenness, but she had for years been a stock actress of acknowledged prominence, and, moreover, her play, "The Christian," while far from being a wonder as a work of art, had enough superficial sensationalism, theatrical effectiveness, and adroit buncombe to account for its vogue. There is, by the way, a striking parallel between the professional careers of these 185 1 86 Famous Actresses. two women. Both gained their first pro- nounced recognition as the leading women of two representative stock companies, — Miss Allen with Charles Frohman's Empire Theatre Company, and Miss Mannering with Daniel Frohman's Lyceum Theatre Com- pany, — and both ventured forth as stars in plays dramatised from novels. But Mary Mannering' s case was far the more remarkable of the two. Viola Allen did have a play, though it was a bad one. Mary Mannering had only the name of a largely circulated novel. Miss Allen also had a fairly widespread reputation. Miss Mannering — so most of us would have de- clared — was practically unknown outside of a few of the larger cities. We who did know her were willing to grant without argument her personal loveliness, her great charm, the insinuating sweetness of her veiled voice, and the delight of her refined comedy and gentle emotionalism. Had we been asked if she Mary Mannering as a Star. 187 were personally or artistically strong enough to star, we should unhesitatingly have said no. And yet we were confronted with the spectacle of Miss Mannering starring, amid a shower of coin bestowed by a delighted and appreciative public. She was not car- ried to success, either, by the dramatic strength of a moving play, but she actually lugged the vehicle in which she should have ridden. I confess that I did not believe that her personality was so potent. Still, who so unimpressionable that he could not feel the feminine allurement of Miss Mannering' s Janice Meredith ? Of course it was a purely fanciful creation, a conception entirely of romantic weaving, the idealism of coquetry. Mayhap it is fortunate that Janice Merediths of the Man- nering type do not live, for they would be a constant threat to the accepted social order, and no home nor domestic fireside would be safe from their innocent plunderings. 1 88 Famous Actresses. Not that Mary Mannering's Janice Mere- dith, with all her provoking coquetry, lacked emotional stability. In truth, she loved the bond servant, Charles Fownes, afterward the gallant Colonel Brereton, with unswerving devotion through all four acts of the play, though this merit was a matter of no great moment. Janice's love-affair was only a side issue, in spite of the fact that theoretically it formed the main theme of the play. Prac- tically it was but a single one of Janice Meredith's many phases, and it was not as interesting one as her plaguing of good- natured Philemon, her cat-like sport with the unpleasant Lord Clowes, her wholesale flirtations with every periwig in sight, her cajolery of father and mother, and her mischievous treatment of her long-suffering scapegoat playmate, the unlucky Tabitha. Indeed, this Janice was no woman strug- gling valiantly with a serious affair of the heart. She was an irresponsible girl with a MARY MANNERING As Janice Meredith in " Janice Meredith. Mary Mannering as a Star. 189 sweetheart, a strong hankering for romance, and an exceedingly active fondness for fun. She loved her soldier beau, and she could become very serious when she thought that he might possibly be killed ; but, as a gen- eral thing, she persistently refused to allow her imagination to turn that way, and she laughed and was continuously happy through the devastating war. She was a rebel, and she boldly proclaimed the fact ; but her politics were scarcely taken seriously even by herself. She proposed that the British officers toast Washington, but that was mis- chievousness rather than bravado. She helped her lover to dodge capture, but that was largely impulse. Her experience as a pris- oner of war was wholly a joke. Again, love of fun, pride in her quick - wittedness, and general perverseness, rather than love, were the motives that made her aid Brereton to get information to Washington of the Hes- sians' defenceless condition. 190 Famous Actresses. In other words, Janice Meredith, as por- trayed by Miss Mannering, was very much of a flesh-and-blood young woman, and not at all a heroic figure with a leaning toward hip-hip- hurrah melodrama. Judging from the quality of the play, "Janice Meredith," Edward E. Rose, the man who dramatised it, did not originate this human conception. Certainly, Paul Leicester Ford, the author of the novel, did not, for his heroine never showed the slightest likeness to a living possibility. I am inclined to fix the responsibility on the Mary Mannering personality and on the re- freshing Mannering temperament. As a matter of fact, one stretches a point in calling "Janice Meredith" a play. It would be more correct to term it a series of melodramatic incidents, which, except for the continued presence of Janice Meredith, had but the slightest relations to each other. This character was the rope which bound to- gether the four acts. A plot — that is to Mary Mannering as a Star. 191 say, a connected and logically developed story, — with a beginning, a middle, and an end — "Janice Meredith" had not. Nor was it a study of character, nor a picture of Revolu- tionary times, nor anything at all, indeed, except the setting forth on the stage of cer- tain imaginary happenings described in a somewhat loosely constructed novel. We were first shown Squire Meredith's farmyard at Greenwood, New Jersey, — a wonderfully pretty setting, — and we met the swaggering British officers, the manly Charles Fownes, the awkward and bashful Philemon Hennion, the rascally Lord Clowes, the imp- ish Janice, and the catspaw Tabitha. A series of courtships was launched, — Philemon's, Lord Clowes's and Charles's, — but they were not of much account. The main inter- est was in Janice's comedy — her witty verbal contests with his Majesty's soldiers, her pes- tering of the Cupid-smitten Charles, and her complete rout of the bashful but amorous 192 Famous Actresses. Philemon. There was a bit of melodrama in Janice's release of Charles from imprisonment in the smoke-house, and still more melodrama in the climax of the act, the announcement of the conflict at Lexington. Another charming setting was provided for the impossible incidents of the second act, the main episode of which was the visit of Charles Fownes, now Jack Brereton of Wash- ington's army, to the squire's home, at that time guarded by British soldiers and occupied by British officers, and Brereton's sensational escape with the connivance of Janice. The climax of this act was the toast to Washing- ton. In the third act, which passed at Colonel Rahl's headquarters at Trenton, Brereton for the first time displayed his predilection for covering his face with a handkerchief. Here we had more pretty Janice Meredith comedy, — the young woman, at this time, being a prisoner for aiding a rebel to escape, — and samples of wild swashing melodrama, the Mary Mannering as a Star. 193 act ending with a pictorial climax, the capture of Colonel Rahl's headquarters by Washington's troops. The fourth act jumped to the surrender of Yorktown. It was the least interesting one of the play, and dragged wretchedly through the whole of the pro- tracted love scene between Janice and Brere- ton. Edward E. Rose has had a long training as a stage-manager. He was engaged in this important branch of theatricals for a lengthy period in Boston. He served the Frohman brothers faithfully for many years. The best that could be done for " Janice Meredith" was to regard it as a natural product from an expert stage-manager. From the standpoint of the mechanic and the man who knows about centres and left centres, right upper entrances and back drops, the play acted well. I cannot recall a single line in the piece, but I remember that the comedy business was, as a general 194 Famous Actresses. thing, very good. No character, with the exception of Janice, made the least impres- sion of reality, but I know that the action was rapid and continuous, and the melo- drama, while wholly theatrical and reeking with familiar stage tricks, had dash enough to make it effective. I readily perceived that there was no semblance of logical dramatic development anywhere, that the climaxes were picked up bodily and thrown in. Yet it was apparent that the actors had been splendidly trained to get the greatest possi- ble effect from these situations, to play them with a deceptive likeness to spontaneity. The two bright spots in "Janice Mere- dith " were Mary Mannering and the scenery. For the pleasure they gave me I was duly grateful. No sets could have been quainter or more seductively homelike than the types of colonial rooms shown in acts two and three. Miss Mannering's last appearances with Mary Mannering as a Star. 195 Daniel Frohman's Lyceum Theatre Company occurred during the season of 1899- 1900, when she acted the altogether bewitching Jane Nangle in Henry Arthur Jones's enter- taining, but otherwise ordinary comedy, "The Manoeuvres of Jane." It approaches a mis- demeanour to call this play a comedy ; it was in reality a four-act farce — farce almost the only positive merit of which was a first act of unusual novelty and decided ingeniousness. Mr. Frohman's players helped out Mr. Jones wonderfully by acting the farce as if it were comedy. They turned a number of sketchy and conventional types of character into indi- viduals, several of them genuinely human, and all of them of theatrical effectiveness. By constantly keeping the action up to concert pitch they succeeded remarkably well in con- cealing the spots in the last two acts where Mr. Jones's inventive faculty hesitated, and by their illuminative interpretation of certain unprepared-for situations, they nullified to a 196 Famous Actresses. considerable extent the blemish of Mr. Jones's dubious construction. Probably the dramatist intended to write a satirical comedy, and the first act was not without its pretensions in the comedy line. But in this one act Mr. Jones used up all his heavy ammunition. He introduced in quick succession a fascinating array of characters, and the development of the action was full of surprises, and comparatively free from explanations. The humour was the natural product of plot and characters. Mr. Jones, however, by exploiting a straight situation and pairing off his four lovers, once and for all settled the main complications of his story. There was really no dramatic development left for the rest of the play, though amusing incidents were furnished in plenty. The comedy became farce, and the combinations that ensued were superficial and artificial. It is never so interesting to watch something come out just as you knew all along it was Mary Mannering as a Star. 197 bound to come out, as it is to see an action expand and broaden from small and insignificant beginnings until it has attained a growth that, upon reviewing the steps by which it was attained, one perceives is perfectly logical, but which, with only the first conditions in mind, one would never have dreamed were possible. Mr. Jones's play simply brought about the expected. One knew that the sly and scheming Constantia would somehow or other worm a proposal of marriage from the self-satisfied and easily worked Lord Bapchild. One knew that the pretty and wilful and sharp-tempered Jane would surely bring her peppery father to terms and finally marry young Langdon, the man of her choice. Artistically acted as it was, the play acquired an importance beyond its actual worth as drama. The players, without in the least toning down the vigour necessary to farce, maintained throughout a distinction 198 Famous Actresses. of style and definiteness of characterisation worthy of the best comedy. The result was that Mr. Jones's exaggerations and inconsist- encies, the blank places in his action, and his feeble construction, were made remarkably harmless. In fact, at times only a little self- deception was required to make one believe that Mr. Jones's play really had some author- ity as a work of dramatic art. This aspect of "The Manoeuvres of Jane " was strikingly like the impression one received from Clyde Fitch's "Barbara Frietchie." Daniel Froh- man's company succeeded in turning farce into a close imitation of high-class comedy, while Julia Marlowe and her company suc- ceeded in changing obvious melodrama into a fair resemblance of tragedy. So much for the dramatist's debt to the actor. Usually the balance is on the other side, — it is the actor who is the debtor. A strong play has carried many a poor actor into public ap- proval, but the instances where the actor has Mary Mannering as a Star. 199 been powerful enough to make an ordinary play seem extraordinary are not so common. In " The Manoeuvres of Jane " Miss Man- nering was beautiful to look upon, and her personality was appealingly feminine. She was simple, and she was sincere. Her light comedy style was perfect. Her part, how- ever, called for something more than light comedy. There was a strain of serious emo- tion in the character, which was also finely indicated by the actress. Jane was a delight- ful young woman only when she chose to be. At other times, she was fiery, obstinate, and mighty disagreeable. Miss Jane introduced herself to one's notice by passionately defy- ing everybody, but became suddenly trans- formed into the most lovable creature imaginable when she discovered that the young man, whom her father had declared that she should never under any cir- cumstances marry, was a member of the household that she had been so bitterly 200 Famous Actresses denouncing. Finally she plotted an elope- ment, but the plan miscarried. To soothe her disappointment she quarrelled in furious fashion with her lover, then repented and made up in her prettiest manner. From this outline it will be seen that Jane demanded from the actress more than the average variety of expression. Miss Man- nering capitally realised the part in all its phases, and there was one touch in her char- acterisation that was especially good — the spirit of mischief and the sportive merri- ment that ever seemed to peer around the corners of her mouth and peek from her eyes even during the most vixenish of her displays of temper. It was this frivolous glint that saved Jane's reputation. One could not take her too seriously. She seemed a wilful child who needed mild discipline, rather than a young woman rebelling against necessary and rightful restraint. MRS. LESLIE CARTER. CHAPTER XIII. " ZAZA " AND MRS. LESLIE CARTER. Before attempting a review of Mrs. Les- lie Carter's Zaza, it is well to note that few of the Jmany who have seen her in this part have really seen the same Zaza. There was from the very beginning an ex- citing spirit of gamble about Mrs. Carter's impersonation. One paid his money at the door, not knowing exactly what was coming to him in return for it. He might be fa- voured with a wholly absorbing exhibition of hysterical theatrics ; he might get merely a mildly interesting specimen of mechanical acting. I saw "Zaza" from beginning to end three times, I believe, and once out of these three times Mrs. Carter's work was partially worthy of the extraordinary praise 202 Famous Actresses. that was accorded it by some reviewers. The other two times her performance was perfunctory and disillusionising. I suppose that these recurring lapses from the ideal were due to " temperament." Mrs. Carter's force in " Zaza " came from a state of semi- hysteria. When she could not throw herself into this condition, she failed to make an im- pression. Of course, the longer she played the part, the less easy she found it to give herself up completely to its influence. The first time I saw her as Zaza, she was not in the spirit of the part, and she was not in the least convincing. Even the mechanics were not all there, and she merely skimmed the surface of the character. I had a similar experience with Richard Mansfield's " Cyrano de Bergerac," just before that actor was compelled temporarily to abandon his tour because of illness. Six months after, I saw Mansfield once more in the same part, and what a change there was! The impersona- " Zaza " and Mrs. Leslie Carter. 203 tion reached home the second time, and its power was doubly increased. "Zaza," the play, and Mrs. Carter, the actress, fitted one another perfectly. I mean by that, if the play appealed to one as a strong acting drama, Mrs. Carter likewise appealed to one as an unusually powerful emotional actress. If, however, one did not care for the play, — and I am referring to it as a work of art and not as a thing to be judged according to some moral standard, — if one found the play untrue to life, artificial, and a conveyer of theatrical shocks instead of a developer of character, except under extraordinary conditions of excitement one found Mrs. Carter lacking in conviction. "Zaza" did not impress me as a sincere play. It was not an honest study of a preg- nant human condition. It was solely a vehi- cle for theatrical effect. I would, however, except from this condemnation the first act, which was in the main truthful in its appeal. 204 Famous Actresses. I do not pretend to say that its highly col- ourful and frankly vulgar action was a faith- ful representation of life behind the scenes in the second-class provincial music hall of France. But the human nature in the act was genuine ; the vulgarity was genuine, and to the extent that it was genuine it was justifiable. Mrs. Carter was decidedly excellent in this act. She set forth the woman Zaza with a few bold strokes that were really masterly in their simplicity. She made Zaza — the coarse, the low-bred — understandable, and by making her understandable as a human being, she saved Zaza from lasting condemnation, and gave her rank as a possible character study. After the first act I felt well acquainted with Zaza, the frank courtesan, who was as un- trammelled by social conventions as an ani- mal, a creature unmoral rather than immoral. When Zaza wanted a man, she attacked him directly, without subterfuge, without sugges- " Zaza " and Mrs. Leslie Carter. 205 tiveness and without shame. By nature she was kind-hearted and generous, a woman in no sense vicious, though a good fighter and a good hater of those who in anyway crossed her. As the character was acted the first time I saw it, after the first act all development ceased, and Zaza became merely a lay figure by means of which Mrs. Carter exhibited her range as an emotional actress. She showed that she had at her command ample resources in the way of physical expression. Personally I prefer the quieter school of acting, but the power in the method adopted by Mrs. Carter is undeniable, if only the emotion in the mind of the actress be sympathetically reproduced in the mind of the spectator. To me, how- ever, Mrs. Carter seemed ever to be thinking what she should do next, instead of using all her personal force and insight to under- stand and interpret Zaza's mental condition. In the quiet moments of the last act Mrs. Carter was far more convincing. She had to 2o6 Famous Actresses. show a Zaza reformed. Realising, perhaps, that the act was fundamentally weak, she bent all her energies to imprinting on the mind of the spectator the reformed Zaza, even against the spectator's calm judgment regarding the inherent untruthfulness of the situation. She succeeded, too, and that triumph was her greatest artistic achieve- ment. From Mrs. Carter at her worst, let me now turn to Mrs. Carter at her best. We shall find that a revision of opinion in certain par- ticulars is necessary. We shall find that not only is the spirit of the character entirely changed, but we shall see that the action itself is far more elaborated in respect to detail. In fact, the difference is not unlike that usually noticeable between the perform- ance of an understudy and a principal. At my first experience with the play, the curtain of the first act amounted to nothing at all. Zaza simply walked off the stage. The " Zaza " and Mrs. Leslie Carter. 207 second time she marched away singing in impudent triumph and with dare-devil reck- lessness at the top of her voice. It was a climax that fairly summed up the whole act. I found a dozen little bits of character sketching in the second act that were entirely new to me — the impetuous kicking off of the slippers, and touches here and there of rough comradeship in the interview with Cascart in particular. The third act, in- cluding the interview with the child, was played much the same both times. It was to my mind the poorest act in the play, an act only a step removed from the most vapid sentimentality. Nor was the fourth act greatly changed as far as action was concerned, until the very end, when the clock on the mantelpiece was sent crashing to the floor. I was much pleased at this, for it was expectation real- ised. The last act caused no new impres- sion. 208 Famous Actresses. The chief fault to be found with Mrs. Carter's work, judging from the first view I had of it, was that she did not portray a char- acter after the first act, but merely gave an exhibition of acting. That criticism was unjust in the face of the new Zaza. Mrs. Carter's best work in the line of character development was done in the first two acts, the only acts in the play that were without that sentimentality which threatened the complete ruination of the Belasco adapta- tion. In the first act Mrs. Carter got Zaza before one with an economy of effort that was most admirable. Her play with Du- frene, its shamelessness, its frankness, its coarse heartlessness, was realistically vivid. The influence of the first act extended through the second, with this subtle dis- tinction : the Zaza of the first act was purely animal ; the Zaza of the second act, still a vulgar and unrefined Zaza in most respects, " Zaza " and Mrs. Leslie Carter. 209 was in her love childlike and simple. With Dufrene in her heart she was almost pathetic in her unworldliness ; without Dufrene she was the creature of old, raging, tearing, blindly obeying instinct, without thought and without responsibility. Twice during the play Mrs. Carter left her character and merely acted, once in the third act, when she soliloquised in a monotone that was intended to convey great stress of mind and intense emotion, and once in the fourth act, when she again adopted the same method of expression. Neither time was the illusion of spontaneity created. Mrs. Carter's hys- terical self-abandonment during the whirl- wind climax of the fourth act was not the highest form of dramatic art. In moments of such extreme emotion, suggestion is more effective than bald exposition. But in the character which she was portraying Mrs. Carter found justification for her hysteria. At any rate, her lack of reserve power was 2 10 Famous Actresses. not felt as it would have been in a part more subtle and more complex. No review of " Zaza " would be complete without at least a passing reference to Marie Bates's superfine low comedy as Zaza's Aunt Rosa. Miss Bates was wonderfully funny in the dressing-room scene of the first act, but it was not until her talk with the Due de Brissac at the opening of the fourth act that she touched the very limit of delightful and ingenious humour. It was then that Aunt Rosa related with wealth of detail her single matrimonial experience, its tragic termina- tion and the accompanying punishment of the erring husband by " cracking him over the head." Incidentally she expounded from her peculiar standpoint the whole philosophy of life. Aunt Rosa was uncompromisingly worldly, which was not to be wondered at when one perceived that her youthful dream of idealised love had been ruthlessly shattered by a man, who not only had no money, but " Zaza" and Mrs. Leslie Carter. 211 who committed the unpardonable sin of re- fusing to work for any, and who also practised successfully for years the hazardous pleasure of deceiving a trusting wife. One could hardly expect elevating views on the marriage state and wifely devotion from one whose past had been so bitterly disillusionising, nor was it altogether strange that absinthe, in every one of its nerve-rack- ing forms, had been resorted to as a potent comforter in moments of despondency. Aunt Rosa frankly declared that, should she again elect to venture on the stormy seas of matri- mony, she would choose for her sailing mate a man who could deck her with diamonds from head to feet ; a striking conception of bodily adornment, which appealed strongly to the imagination. Aunt Rosa would in- deed have been an imposing figure in such a dazzling costume. Strange as it may appear, I have noticed persons sniffing disdainfully at Aunt Rosa, 212 Famous Actresses, evidently regarding her as unmistakably coarse, and irredeemably vulgar. A few minutes later the same persons have wept sad, salt tears into their pocket handker- chiefs, full of sympathy for the unhappy Zaza, just turned down so unreservedly by her lover. This condition of mind was curi- ously inconsistent, though it was easy to see that it was deliberately caused by the subtle David Belasco, who in " Zaza " very prettily changed black iniquity into snow-white purity. Aunt Rosa was not a " nice " woman, but had the saving grace of hon- esty. She travelled under her real colours. Like Zaza, she had been deceived by a man, — her husband at that, — but she expected no sympathy ; she was satisfied with the ample re- venge of " cracking him over the head." Zaza was not " nice," either. There was no imagin- able life condition where she would not be looked upon as the most hopeless of social out- casts, and, therefore, completely outside the " Zaza" and Mrs. Leslie Carter. 213 pall of kindly consideration. She, like Aunt Rosa, was unspeakably coarse and irredeem- ably vulgar. Was it not remarkable that Mr. Belasco and Mrs. Carter, working in unison, could literally twist one into a mental state where the most evident of social conventionalities — those that one instinctively looks upon as essential without the necessity of argument — became positively repugnant ; could bring one to think that the wronged wife was a sinner and the mistress a saint, the man who caused it all practically a nonentity ? Right here was the irreconcilable difference between " Zaza " and " The Second Mrs. Tanqueray." In " Zaza " one pitied the woman and con- doned her fault ; in Pinero's play one also pitied the woman, — that was humane and right, — but at the same time he found her sin most abhorrent and hateful. That, it seems to me, is morality of the most vital and the most lofty description. CHAPTER XIV. ANNA HELD. It is food for speculation exactly how much of Anna Held's strong popular hold on the theatregoing public is due to the spectacular quality of her own career. She is a wonder- fully fascinating study, — this little French- woman, — the positive exception to the established routine of human experience. Where else can one witness wild and irre- sponsible notoriety — the incubator product of freak advertising and weird press yarns — grown into dignified and sober reputation? How vastly have the Anna Held surround- ings changed since 1 899 ! In the days of "The French Maid" she was served up to us with circus-like garnishings, and even 214 Anna Held. 215 as recently as the season of 1899- 1900 vivid descriptions of her private car and her auto- mobile alternated with adjective-studded praises of her personal attractions and her marvellous raiment. The season of 1900- 190 1, however, found all this was changed, and the Anna Held campaign became strik- ingly free from hysterics. Her managers placed her before the public on her merits as an artist, and the public accepted her as thoroughly worthy of her newly acquired dignity. The step from milk baths to refined art was a long one to take under any circum- stances, but in Miss Held's case it was the more remarkable, because of the ease and quickness with which it was accomplished. Mrs. Leslie Carter jumped from crude ama- teurism in "The Ugly Duckling" to amaz- ing theatrical emotionalism in "The Heart of Maryland," but it took David Belasco nearly two seasons of continuous effort to 216 Famous Actresses. accomplish the feat. And, after all, was Mrs. Carter's transformation any more start- ling than that experienced by little Anna Held in a single summer? Leslie Carter lost her crudity in a maze of authoritative artificialities ; Anna Held passed from the hopelessly impossible inanities of Suzette in " The French Maid " to genuine exposi- tion of character in "Papa's Wife" — and she learned to talk English while she was doing it. Perhaps you have forgotten just how hopeless Anna Held was in "The French Maid." Refresh your memory by reading this New York review of one of her last appearances in the part : "Miss Held was very tiny in what Mr. Rice called 'the frisky English novelty.' She wore tiny dresses and tiny shoes ; she sang in a tiny voice and she spoke in a tiny voice. She wore all her nerves on the sur- face, and she flung herself recklessly about the stage, as though she had St. Vitus's Anna Held. 217 dance. In coquettish moments she turned her left shoulder-blade to the men in the cast, and stood in her famous French-maid attitude, the attitude of the leaning tower of Pisa. La Held indulges in little English slangeries, such as