& #roup of theatrical Caricatures BEING TWELVE PLATES BY W. J. GLADDING WITH AN INTRODUCTION AND BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES BY LOUIS EVAN SHIPMAN $u&Iicationg of CJjc SDunlap £otictp* $eto &mt$ $o, 4* #ctte§or&, 1897, This is one of an edition of two hundred and sixty copies printed for the Dunlap Society in the month of December 1897. , (£&£>"£*•***' ¥&\ A GROUP OF THEATRICAL CARICATURES A GROUP OF THEATRICAL CARICATURES BEING TWELVE PLATES BY W.J. GLADDING WITH AN INTRODUCTION AND BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES BY / LOUIS EVAN SHIPMAN NEW YORK THE DUNLAP SOCIETY 1897 t d H *4 Copyright, 1897, by Louis Evan Shipman '? INTRODUCTION. IF it were the intention of this introduction to trace the story of caricature back through the middle ages to its primal origin, as some claim, on the papyri of the Egyptians, it would lose much of the brevity that has been planned for it and serve but little pur- pose. For those who want a history of caricature there are numberless Encyclopedias of art. This little foreword is merely to introduce the twelve caricatures that form the chief interest of this publication of the Dunlap Society, and to give their short history as it is known to me. In 1868, a Mr. W. J. Gladding, then an assistant in the famous Fredericks photographic gallery, drew the caricatures for Colonel T. Allston Brown, in whose possession they remained for twenty-two years. He disposed of them to a dealer in theatrical curiosities named Walsh, from whom I purchased them in 1892; that is, I purchased eleven of them — the one of Flor- ence as Bob Brierly was missing — and for that mat- ter is missing to-day, but, curiously enough, Mr. Evert Jansen Wendell, who now has the original eleven, picked up a photograph of the missing one, vm 3[ntto&uction. and in that way made it possible to present the com- plete group of plates. It is needless to say that they have little if any ar- tistic quality, but they are valuable and interesting in as far as they give the likeness and characteristics of their originals, and this they do surprisingly. The rarity of theatrical caricatures is really aston- ishing when one considers the numberless photographs, engravings, sketches, and paintings there are of actors, but few even of the largest dramatic collections have anything of the sort, and one has to arrive at the con- clusion that actors have comparatively been very sel- dom caricatured. Whether this is because they are in a way caricaturists themselves I don't know ; it seems plausible enough, but the fact nevertheless re- mains, and I think the members of the Dunlap Society, in having these presented to them, can congratulate themselves on the possession of an altogether unique collection of plates. In the little biographical sketches that accompany them I have aimed at no particular completeness, dwelling only on those incidents which seemed more important, and on occasion giving some reminiscence or anecdote that might lay claim to novelty or espe- cial interest. I commend them to the leniency of all students of our stage history. To others they may furnish their own excuse for being. Louis Evan Shipman. The Players, November, 1897. SloJjn SSrougljam* JOHN BROUGHAM. JOHN BROUGHAM. FOR nearly forty years, as actor, manager, and play- wright, John Brougham, save for the period cov- ering the Civil War, which was spent in London, was constantly before the New York public, a public no- where near so vast and conglomerate as that which supports the play-houses of to-day, and whose re- lations with its entertainers was therefore of a much more intimate and personal character. And even in those days when stage favorites were favorites indeed, Brougham seems to have been singled out for particu- lar approval. Born in Dublin in 1810, of gentle fam- ily, he followed the path of most Irish young gentle- men, prepared for and entered Trinity College, and afterward studied medicine. The insidious influence of private theatricals was too much for him, however, and he journeyed to London intent on entering the " profession," which he did in 1830. His experiences for ten years in and out of London were varied and valuable, from playing small parts under Madame Vestris at the Olympic, and later with Charles Mathews at Covent Garden, to the management of the Lyceum, which resulted disastrously, as did all his future mana- 3 4 €jjeatricai Caricatured gerial attempts, and from the writing of numberless, now forgotten farces and burlesques, to collaboration with Mark Lemon and Dion Boucicault. Indeed, we have very good authority for the statement that he suggested the idea of " London Assurance " to Bouci- cault, receiving half the sum paid for the piece. His first appearance in New York was at the old Park Theater, and with the exception of the interim I have mentioned the rest of his life was spent here. There is no need to record the story of his career in New York : older members of the Dunlap Society are familiar with it, and it is easily accessible to the younger through Dr. Benjamin Ellis Martin's admirable little biography in the " Actors and Actors of Great Britain and America " series. John Brougham was among the last of a group of Irishmen on the stage that for personal charm, grace, and humor, we will probably never see equaled. Tyrone Power, John Drew, W. J. Florence, and John Brougham are only names now, but the memory of them brings smiles and tears to the old playgoer's face ; what have we youngsters to look forward to ? In conclusion, I have thought it would be of interest to quote the lines on tobacco from his most amusing burlesque " Pocahontas " and the vision of the new world from his " Columbus." The first he delivered in the character of "ZT. J. Pow- hatan 7, King of the Tuscaroras — a crotchetty mon- arch, in fact a semi-brave." It is in this part that the accompanying caricature represents him. The apos- trophe to the pipe is this : Cicatrical Caricature^ While other joys one sense alone can measure This to all senses gives extatic pleasure. You feel the radiance of the glowing bowl, Hear the soft murmurs of the kindling coal, Smell the sweet fragrance of the honey-dew, Taste its strong pungency the palate through, See the blue cloudlets circling to the dome Imprisoned skies up floating to their home. As Don Christoval Colon, alias Columbus, — a clair- voyant voyager whose filibustering expedition gave rise at the time to a world of speculation, — he deliv- ered the following, the king serving as a " feeder." King. Just as sure as fate He 's in a beautiful clairvoyant state ! Columbus ! Why are you in such amaze ? Col. Time onward passes, and my mental gaze Is on the future, lo ! I see a land Where nature seems to frame with practised hand Her last most wonderous work ! before me rise Mountains of solid rock that rift the skies, — Imperial vallies with rich verdure crowned For leagues illimitable smile around, While through them subject seas for rivers run From ice bound tracts to where the tropic sun Breeds in the teeming ooze strange monstrous things — I see upswelling from exhaustless springs, Great lakes appear upon whose surface wide The banded navies of the earth may ride, I see tremendous cataracts emerge From cloud aspiring heights, whose slippery verge Tremendous oceans momently roll o'er, Assaulting with unmitigated roar The stunned and shattered ear of trembling day That wounded, weeps in glistening tears of spray! King. We grieve your sensibility to shock, €ljeattical Caricature^ See something else or down will go our stock. Col. I see upspringing from the fruitful breast Of the beneficent and boundless West, Uncounted acres of life-giving grain, Wave o'er the gently undulating plain, So tall each blade that you can scarcely touch The top ! King. Ah ! now, my blade, you see too much. Col. Within the limits of the southern zone I see plantations, thickly overgrown With a small shrub in whose white flower lies A revenue of millions ! King. You surprise Us now, we '11 cotton to that tree ! Go on, old fellow, what else do you see ? Col. Some withered weeds — King. Pooh ! Col. From which men can evoke Profit as wonderful ! King. From what ? Col. From smoke. King. Ah, now you 're in the clouds again. Good gracious ! Think of the stock, and don't be so fugacious. Col. I see a river, through whose limpid stream, Pactolus like, the yellow pebbles gleam ; Flowing through regions, where great heaps of gold, Uncared for, lie in affluence untold, Thick as autumnal leaves, the precious store. King. My eyes ! why did n't you see that before ? We '11 go ourself, we mean we shall " go in." Go on. Col. I see small villages begin, Like twilight stars, to peep forth timidly, Great distances apart ; and now I see Towns, swol'n to cities, burst upon the sight, Thick as the crowded firmament at night. I see brave science, with inspired soul, Cicatrical Caricature^ Subdue the elements to its control ; On iron ways, through rock and mountain riven, Impelling mighty freights, by vapor driven ; Or with electric nerves so interlace The varied points of universal space. Thought answers thought, though scores of miles be- tween — Time is outstripped King. We 're not so jolly green. My friend, come, ain't you getting rather steep ? We beg to probability you '11 keep. What see you now ? Col. The plethora of wealth Corrupt and undermine the general health. I see vile madd'ning fumes incite to strife, Obscure the sense and whet the murderer's knife. I see dead rabbits which goes to show that Brougham, with all his fool- ing, had something of the prophet in him too. Eventually Columbus sets out on his perilous voyage but is endangered by the mutiny of his sailors. Co- lumbia very opportunely appears and quells them as follows : Enter Columbia. Colum. She 's here ! [Sailors shrink back in affright. Col. I 'm saved ! Colum. What means this horrid din ? If it 's a free fight, you can count me in ! So many against one, now understand To aid the weak I '11 always be on hand ! Cicatrical Caricature^ Col. The Indian Empire 's mine, your threats I mock Rebellious -SVapoys, now /"have-a-lock," Will shut you up ! Sancho. Hallo ! My precious wig, Here 's a strange craft with a new fangled rig ! Where do you hail from ? Colum. Back, senseless crew ! 'T is just such mindless reprobates as you That mar the calculations of the wise, And clog the wheels of glorious enterprize ! Pedro. Pshaw ! this palaver, ma'm 's all very well, But where we 're driving to if you could tell, We 'd like it better. Colum. \To Columbus]. You are not so blind But in the passing current you can find Sure indications that the land is near. Col. Within my heart I thought so, but the fear Of raising hopes the end might not fulfil, Stifled the new-born thought, and kept me still. See ! See ! What 's floating there ? Sancho. By jingo ! greens ! And now I smell — Pedro. What ? Orange groves ? Sancho. No, pork and beans ! Pedro. Hogs ! then hurrah ! our tribulation ends, It 's very clear we 're getting among friends ! Bartol. Look, look, here 's something else now passing by. {They fish up a piece of Connecticut pastry. All. What is it ? Colum. What, you pumps, why pumpkin-pie ! Sancho. What 's this ? [Fishes up immense walking-stick with knobs on it. A knobby stick ; and on the knob Inscribed distinctly — AIL What? €|)catricai Caricatured Sancho. " The Empire Club. " The owner fitly will reward the finders " If it 's returned — " All. To whom ? Sancho. " To Marshall Rynders." [ A Play-Bill is fished up. All. What 's this ? Co him. A bill of Burton's Theatre, you noodles ! Col. What are they doing now there ? Co him. " Sleek and Toodles." Col. I hear the birds. Colum. They 're cat-birds if you do. Col. The cat-bird's song must be " the wild sea-mew," There 's music somewhere nigh. Colum. Don't be emphatic, It 's Dodworth's band on board the Adriatic, She '11 pass us soon upon her trial trip, Look at her well, Columbus, such a ship You never saw — and never will, I swow, Unless he dream it, as he 's doing now. \_The Adriatic passes across, the Band playing " Yankee Doodled Colum. See where she steams majestically down. Sancho. My eyes and limbs, why, it 's a floating town ! Col. Right against wind and tide and not a sail, The Flying Dutchman, that is, without fail : Hurrah ! look there, I '11 take my oath I spy land ! Cohim. Of course you do. Col. What is it ? Colum. Coney Island ! [All the sailors cluster around Columbus. Sancho. Oh, glorious admiral, upon our knees We ask forgiveness — Col. See what men are these Attired in such extraordinary style ? jo €j>eatrical anfim F. S. CHANFRAU. FRANCIS S. CHANFRAU. IT was at Mitchell's Olympic, Number 444 Broad- way, that F. S. Chanfrau, then a youngster of twenty-four, first forced himself prominently before the New York theater-goer, and he held his position for over thirty years. He was a New York boy to begin with, born here in 1824, and raised. He re- ceived an ordinary common-school education, and learned the ship-carpenter's trade. " Becoming ad- dicted," as Mr. Ireland quaintly puts it, "to private theatricals," he eventually found his way as a super- numerary to the Bowery Theater, and afterward made quite a little reputation for himself as a mimic. His imitations of Forrest, Booth, and others were ex- cellent, and led on to more important things. He went the round of the New York theaters, gaining a valuable and diversified experience, which enabled him when his opportunity came to seize it. It came on the night of February 15, 1848. Baker, the prompter of the theater, had hurriedly thrown to- gether for his benefit night a piece which he called " New York in 1848," afterward called "A Glance at New York." It was practically the same thing that 7 49 so Cicatrical Caricature^ Owens did in Philadelphia, the same year, both pieces being localized to suit their native towns. Owens's Jakey was a counterpart of Chanfrau's Mose, both tough fire b'hoys. Mr. Lawrence Hutton in his " Curiosities of the American Stage " says : " It [the play] had no literary merit and no pretensions thereto ; and it would never have attracted public attention but for the won- derful ' b'hoy ' of the period played by F. S. Chan- frau — one of those accidental but complete successes upon the stage which are never anticipated, and which cannot always be explained. He wore the 'soap locks ' of the period, the plug hat with a narrow black band, the red shirt, the trousers turned up — without which the genus was never seen ; and he had a pecu- liarly sardonic curve of the lip, expressive of more im- pudence, self-satisfaction, suppressed profanity, and ' general cussedness ' than Delsarte ever dared to put in any single facial gesture." A vivid picture, indeed, and one which the reader will recognize in the minia- ture figure in the left-hand corner of the plate. Mose took New York by storm, and the country, too, for that matter, and assured Chanfrau's future. To show the wonderful vitality of the piece, and incidentally of Chanfrau himself, I quote from a letter which he wrote in 1874 to Mr. Joseph N. Ireland. " The original run of ' Mose ' in all its modifications (' A Glance at New York ' was followed by Mose all over the world : ' Mose in California,' ' Mose in a Muss,' ' Mose in China,' and so on) covered three years and six months, a portion of which time the first version was performed for several weeks at two theaters, the Olympic and €fjeatrital Caricatured 5 1 the National, in New York on the same night, and for one week within that period at three theaters on the same evening — the two above mentioned, and at the Newark (N. J.) Theater. Altogether, I have given in the twenty-six years which have elapsed since the first presentation of Mose something in excess of twenty-two hundred representations of the character. " Respecting ' Sam' I can speak with great confidence. Of that play I have thus far given seven hundred and eighty-three performances. ' Kit,' a more recent but equally prosperous specialty, I have already performed five hundred and sixty times." Of Chanfrau's Mose Mr. Ireland says : " His por- traiture was perfect in every particular — dress, manner, gait, tone, action — and the character is as inseparably identified with him as Paul Pry with Hilson. Delph with Burns, Jemmy Twitcher with John Sexton; Crummies with Mitchell ; Captain Cuttle with Burton, or Our American Cousin with young Jefferson (young Jef- ferson !). Mr. Chanfrau's immense success in this char- acter has been somewhat detrimental to his standing in his native city in a more elevated range of the drama; some squeamish connoisseurs insisting that an artist cannot excel in parts dissimilar. The conclu- sion, however, is unwarrantable and unjust, for his versatility, although unbounded in aim, is almost un- equaled in merit, and his name is ever a reliable source of attraction and profit in almost every other city of the Union in a much higher grade of character. Mr. Chanfrau is decidedly handsome, and, divested of the dress and attributes of Mose, his appearance and man- 52 €J)eatricaI Caricature^ ners are those of a well-bred gentleman, and we are assured that his private life and character are such as to entitle him to the highest respect." A naive tribute to the character and ability of the man, " squeamish connoisseurs " notwithstanding. Jefferson was not one of these, for he writes of him : " When I first saw him he was extremely handsome. He was modest, too, and manly. These qualities are so rarely allied to beauty, that Chanfrau comes back to my remembrance as quite a novelty. He had suc- cess enough to have turned his head, but he bore it bravely, so that he must have been as well poised in his mind as he was in his person." Chanfrau married in 1858 Miss Henrietta Baker of Cincinnati, who as Henrietta Chanfrau, holds an im- portant place in the annals of the New York stage. De Walden's comedy of " Sam," in which he played the title-role, was Chanfrau's next important eccen- tric essay, and its success was enormous. In the plate Sam is the little gentleman on the right and he is no other than Lord Dundreary's idiot brother. Both Mose and Sam were long before my theatrical or any other days, but I have thrilling recollections of his " Kit, the Arkansas Traveller," and a wonderful Kit he was, full of dash, fire, and intrepidity ; as ready with his " gun " as with his bowie knife, and wreaking a terrible vengeance on the villain. It was the last part he ever played, and he was in the harness till the very last. He died suddenly in Jersey City, leaving his wife and a son, Frank, who is playing Kit to this day, I believe, about the country. George %. for* f «i -*&b$z» mmmmm GEORGE L. FOX. GEORGE L. FOX. GEORGE L. FOX was born in 1825, and his the- atrical experience began about as soon after- ward as it conveniently could. When he was five years old he appeared at the Tremont Street Theater, Boston, in " The Children of the Alps/' and from that time on the theater was school, college, and career for him. He first appeared in New York at the National Theater, in 1851, as Christopher Strap, and continued to play there for several years in a variety of charac- ters, excelling as Mark Meddle, Jaqnes Strop, Box, Cox, and other strong individual parts. He played Bottom later in a gorgeous production of " Midsum- mer Night's Dream," and old playgoers still talk about it, though undoubtedly old playgoers' rhapsodies have to be taken with a grain of salt, for they invariably see the palmy days through the big end of the glass. His travesty on " Hamlet " at the Olympic in 1870 was inimitable, and ran for ten weeks. Mr. Laurence Hutton, who fortunately for us combines the attributes and experience of old playgoers and young in one, tells us of this performance that " although not an im- provement upon the original acting version of the tra- 55 56 Cicatrical Caricature^ gedy, it was an improvement on the general run of burlesques of its generation. It did not depend upon blue lights or upon anatomical display, and it did not harrow up the young blood of its auditors by its hor- rible plays upon unoffending words. It followed the text of Shakspere closely enough to preserve the plot of the story; it contained, as well, a great deal that was ludicrous and bright, and it never sank into imbe- cility or indelicacy, which is saying much for bur- lesque. Mr. Fox, one of the few really funny men of his day upon the American stage, was at his best in this travesty of < Hamlet.' Quite out of the line of the pantomimic clown by which he is now remem- bered, it was as supremely absurd, as expressed upon his face and in his action, as was his Humpty JDumpty. It was perhaps more a burlesque of Edwin Booth — — after whom, in the character, he played and dressed — than of Hamlet, and probably no one enjoyed this more thoroughly, or laughed at it more heartily than did Mr. Booth himself. While Fox at times was won- derfully like Booth in attitude, look, and voice, he would suddenly assume the accent and expression of Fechter, whom he counterfeited admirably, and, again, give a most intense passage in the wonderfully deep tones of Studley, at the Bowery. To see Mr. Fox pacing the platform before the Castle of Elsinore, pro- tected against the eager and the nipping air of the night by a fur cap and collar, and with mittens and arctic overshoes over the traditional costume of Ham- let ; to see the woful melancholy of his face as he spoke the most absurd of lines ; to watch the horror €{jeatrical tfaricatiure^. 57 expressed upon his countenance when the Ghost ap- peared; to hear his familiar conversation with that Ghost, and his untraditional profanity when com- manded by the Ghost to l swear,' — all expressed, now in the style of Fechter, now of Studley, now of Booth, — was as thoroughly and ridiculously enjoyable as any piece of acting our stage has seen since Burton and Mitchell were at their funniest, so many years before." But it is as a clown that Fox's name will be handed down. Many people seem to think that it is too bad his reputation should rest on such a flimsy foundation. Mr. Winter has written for instance that " George L. Fox was of no intellectual power, but he was very expert in his peculiar vocation." Peculiar vocation ! As if pantomime was not one of the legitimate and most artistic forms of the drama, requiring a quicker, subtler intelligence to interpret it than the ordinary actor usually possesses. Fox was a master at it, and his name will stand as long as Grimaldi's. Mr. Win- ter adds : " He made clowning a fine art. His field was not high, but within it he was a chieftain. His vein of humor was real and rich. His drollery was spontaneous and irresistible. He took delight in his occupation, and therefore he had a firm grasp upon sympathy. His artistic method was sure and clear. (The italics are mine.) He knew the precise value of repose contrasted with movement. His stillness was sometimes the most vivid and humorous action in its practical effect. By a single gesture he could flash an entire process of thought upon the beholders' comprehension. His assumption of perfect innocence, 8 58 €|)eatricai Caricatured and of docile goodness that is unjustly and cruelly abused, was one of the best bits of art, and one of the funniest spectacles that the stage has afforded. Fox's clown was not a common mummer, and he might well have said, * Mistake me not for my complexion.' He enriched the harmless enjoyment of his time; he gained rank and honor by legitimate means, and he wore them with modesty and grace." Rather good testimony in favor of a man with a " peculiar voca- tion." He played in different versions of his " Humpty Dumpty " over fifteen hundred times; for the last time in November 25, 1875, at Booth's Thea- ter. He died shortly after. £t)arfe£ C I©J>ite anb SDan 25rpant CHARLES WHITE. CHARLES T. WHITE AND DAN BRYANT. THE story of Charley White and Dan Bryant is practically the story of negro minstrelsy in New York. White was born in 182 1, and from the time he was a mere lad took part in public performances. The first minstrel company in New York was organ- ized in 1843, and the next year White started a com- pany of his own which he called "The Kitchen Min- strels." They opened on the second floor of the building at Broadway and Chambers Street. A bio- graphical scrap of White says: "The first floor was occupied by Tiffany and Ellis, jewellers ; the third by the renowned Ottignon as a gymnasium. Here, where the venerable Palmo had introduced to delighted audiences the Italian opera, and regaled them with fragrant Mocha coffee handed around by obsequious waiters, he first came prominently before the public." He afterward, in 1846, opened The Melodeon, at 53 Bowery, and later, White's Athenaeum, at 585 Broad- way. For many years he was associated as manager or performer with almost every minstrel entertainment in New York : with the " Virginia Serenaders," " The 61 62 Cicatrical Caricature^ Ethiopian Operatic Brotherhood," "The Sable Sisters of Ethiopian Minstrels," " The New York Minstrels," and so on. He was instrumental in introducing to the stage Daniel Webster O'Brien, better known as Dan Bryant, probably the most famous minstrel of them all. He was born in Troy in 1833, and when twelve years old made his first appearance in New York at the Vauxhall Garden, as a dancer. From then on he followed the profession of minstrel and come- dian, with increasing success and popularity. In 1857, in partnership with his brothers Neil and Jerry, he organized a minstrel company called the " Cork- onians," and opened at Mechanic's Hall, 472 Broad- way. In July, 1863, he essayed the Irish character of Handy Andy at the Wintergarden Theater, and so successfully that he gave up burnt cork for a while, and traveled as a " white " star about this country and England. He returned to minstrelsy, though, in 1868, and played the darky till his death in 1875. Mr. William Winter, in his " Brief Chronicles," says of him that he " was one of the gentlest and merriest of men, and he passed his life making innocent laugh- ter for everybody and in doing good. Privately and publicly he was a generous, unselfish, genial per- son. . . . " He had a droll humour and fine animal spirits, and his Irishmen were natural and interesting. " DAN BRYANT. iMUam I©ljeatlep. WILLIAM WHEATLEY. WILLIAM WHEATLEY. ON March 9, 1804, a small building in Bedlow Street, New York, was opened as the Grove Theater, with a company of what the chronicler calls " inferior performers." " Of these," he adds, " Mr. Frederick Wheatley must be noticed as the husband and father of a most talented wife and children. He was afterward attached for many years to the Park Theater." This Frederick Wheatley was an Irish- man — a Trinity College Irishman — as I have heard him described, who strayed to this country as a player and singer. In 1805 he married a Miss Ross, the daughter of an officer in the British army, who had joined the Park Theater company, and who retired after her marriage to private life, only to enter the lists again later. The chronicler says of her that " severe study, long practice, and the strictest adher- ence to nature, finally gave her the position she aimed at, and for more than twenty years, in the line of comic, middle-aged old women, rich or poor, refined or vulgar — indeed, of every grade, she was entirely unrivaled on the American stage. Her reputation re- sulted from the combination of perfect good sense 9 65 66 €|jeatncaJ Caricature^ with accurate discrimination of character, fine artistic taste, an agreeable face and person, and the most thorough executive ability. Becoming independent in her resources, with her daughters handsomely settled in marriage, and her son William enjoying a high professional reputation, Mrs. Wheatley in 1843 finally bade farewell to the stage, and had the nerve to resist the tempting offer of $1000 for reappearance, for a single night, in the character of Mrs. Malaprofi. She had passed her eighty-fourth birthday when she died." This artistic and exemplary lady was the mother, and Mr. Frederick Wheatley was the father, of the subject of this sketch, who, though entirely forgotten to-day, save by the very old playgoer or actor, was in his time a young actor of decided ability, and later a metropolitan manager of note and success. Mr. Joseph N. Ireland, whose invaluable services to the history of our local stage I can only too poorly acknowledge, gives the record of his stage career as follows : " Mr. Macready appeared as William Tell (October 12, 1826), with Master William Wheatley as Albert, who attracted much notice by the good judg- ment he evinced in its performance. He soon after- ward appeared as Tom Thumb, and for two or three years was the principal representative of the Park juveniles. In 1833 he was at the Bowery in the low- est part of a walking gentleman. In the summer of 1834 he reappeared at the Park in a more elevated range of the same line, and gradually worked his way into public favor by his sensible personations of whatever was intrusted to his care. €tjcatrical Caricature^ 6 7 " In the long catalogue of characters then assigned to him — such as Laertes ; Henry in ' Speed the Plough ' ; Michael in ' Victorine ' ; Nicholas Nickleby, Charles Courtly, and Henry Moreland in ' The Heir-at-Law " (which Charles Kemble did not disdain to play in London), — we do not remember to have seen his equal ; while as Sir Thomas Clifford, Alfred Evelyn and Claude Melnotte, he played with a truthful earnest- ness that quite eclipsed the efforts of more pretending performers. His temperament was scarcely mercurial enough to give due effect to the Vapids, the Gossamers, and Dazzles of light comedy, nor, although he per- fectly satisfied the eye as Hamlet and Romeo, would his rendition of them rank with their first representa- tives. Mr. Wheatley left the Park Theater in 1843, but fulfilled a star engagement there in 1847, m con " junction with his sister, Mrs. James Mason. He was for several years a resident of Philadelphia, where he played exclusively the highest grades of character, and as actor and manager enjoyed great popularity. (Dur- ing his sojourn in Philadelphia, he managed the Arch Street Theater in partnership with the elder John Drew.) "In January, 1862, he reappeared at Niblo's Garden in conjunction with Mr. and Mrs. J. Wallack, Jr., Mrs. Barrow, and Mr. E. L. Davenport, and soon rein- stated himself in the good opinion of his audience, by many of whom he was almost forgotten. In the sum- mer of that year he became sole lessee and manager of that establishment, and still remains there, popular and prosperous, having given it a character for the 68 Cicatrical Caricature^ production of romantic and spectacular dramas not previously enjoyed by any theater in the city. " The splendid ' getting up ' and success of the 1 Duke's Motto,' in which his performance of Henri de Lagardere received the most rapturous applause ; of the ' Corsican Brothers,' wherein he was equally happy as Louis and Fabien ; of ' Satanella ' and the ' En- chantress ' with Mr. Richings and daughter ; ' Bel Demonio' with Mademoiselle Vestvali; the ' Connie Soogah ' with Mr. and Mrs. Williams, and ' Arra na Pogue,' are the best proofs of his judgment, taste, and liberality." It was during this period of management that the famous " Black Crook " was produced, and it is at this period that the caricaturist has depicted him, sur- rounded by the goblins, fairies, and supernatural crea- tures of that supernatural production. He was one of several who made their " everlasting fortunes " out of that successful play, and he was lost to public view in a mist of profits. SUntonio $a£toi% TONY PASTOR. ANTONIO PASTOR. AT last a contemporary stares us in the face, and Jl\. may he continue to do so for years to come ! Tony Pastor was born in Greenwich Street, New York, in 1840, and fortunately, is able to tell his own story. That there is undoubtedly " a divinity that shapes our ends " my life story demonstrates. From my earliest childhood I was possessed with a desire to " strut upon the mimic stage," a de- sire that at the age of eight found me at the head of a dozen boys managing a penny circus in the back yard of my parents' residence, and before my tenth year appearing upon a real stage and singing as an infant prodigy before a real audience of adults ; at fifteen, a full-fledged performer in a circus, and before I at- tained my majority, a manager and proprietor of amusement ventures. My father, who was a very skilful musician, was a prominent soloist in a grand orchestra that gave promenade concerts in the Old Castle Garden on the style of the Julien concerts, afterward so famous in Europe and America. He also was for a long time one of the orchestra of the Park Theater in its earliest days, when the life of New York city was all below Canal Street, and Bleecker Street was to the city what upper Fifth Avenue is to- day, and often have I listened with wonder to his narration of events that had come to his notice when he would relate to my mother the scenes at the theater, with bits of chat and gossip of 71 72 Cicatrical Caricatured the society folk who attended, the popular actors, and the excit- ing plays. All these little bits were working toward my destiny, " this life upon the stage," where I have wrought with more or less success from childhood to manhood, surrounded often by diffi- culty, rewarded with some triumphs attended with many happy incidents, some sorrows, much that has been of delight, and at length into the pleasanter waters of established favor, where I now glide along thankful to friends, and with a happy, kindly affection for fellows. My first managerial difficulty came with my first managerial effort. I was then about eight years of age, and was the leader of a dozen boys who organized a theatrical performance to be presented in the cellar of my father's house. Our first proceed- ing was to pack to one side the winter's fuel, which in those days was principally of wood, coal being as yet a luxury. Then from our mothers' household stores we abstracted sundry quilts, curtains, bits of furniture, and other properties, all of which were quietly conveyed to our theater (the cellar) with great cau- tion, because my father was much at home in the daytime, and would not countenance our transactions. In fact, to him was due the ultimate failure of the project, and the abandonment of our grand company, as will appear later on. Well, having got- ten together the needed articles, we constructed a proscenium of clothes-horses and bed-quilts, a drop-curtain purloined from some mother's camphor-chest, a stage built upon upright barrels, and seats of neatly piled cordwood. Then came the great diffi- culty — the scenery. We could never get along without that, so I decided to sacrifice one of my mother's best linen sheets, and with burnt cork for crayon, I depicted the battlements of an English castle, with a background sadly lacking in perspective. Our preparations being all complete, we eagerly awaited the coming of Saturday's holiday from school, when we should be able to give our first performance. In due course the time came around, and our audience assembled, paying their admission fee in pins, marbles, and other bric-a-brac usual in boys' barter. Our play was extempore and Richard III bore strange resem- blance to Hamlet, Nick of the Woods, and Schnapps in the Cicatrical Caricature^ 73 " Naiad Queen," while Ophelia danced a hornpipe with Macbeth or Faktaff, I don't remember exactly which at this time. I sang comic songs, but was compelled to stop in the midst of the strain to caution the boys to suppress their enthusiasm and its atten- dant noise, for I knew my respected papa would not relish the proceedings should they come to his notice. However, we es- caped any trouble from that source, and the following Saturday, emboldened by success, we were less cautious. One of the boys, afterward a well-known actor, was shouting for a horse, the audience were shouting themselves hoarse, when with utter ter- ror I recognized the familiar creak of my father's boots coming down the stairs. I gave the cue to run, and without disrobing our mimic kings and queens tumbled over the audience in a mad race for the street. The wild scramble so amused my parent that he forgot to be angry, and so I escaped punishment. At the time of this escapade I was a pupil at the Thames Street school, and at one of our exhibitions received a prize for elocu- tion. My recitation was entitled " You 'd Scarce Expect One of My Age " ; and having at that time attracted the attention of some visitors, I was selected to aid in a temperance revival, then in progress at Dey Street Hall, by the Hand in Hand Society, where I made my debut as a public entertainer, and was launched upon the career that destiny had carved for me. At the time of which I am writing negro minstrelsy was in its earliest days and a mere skeleton of what it has since be- come. Minstrel bands then consisted of five or six performers, without orchestra other than the banjo, bones, tambourine, tri- angle, or jawbone. I had seen the original Virginia Serenaders at the Park Theater, and was ambitious to be an end man, or, as our English cousins term them, "a corner man." One day I had the good fortune to find on the street a two-dollar bill, which I invested forthwith in a tambourine and a negro wig, made in those days of cloth listing. I soon joined with a party who were giving concerts on the steamboat Raritan, Captain Fisher, which then plied between New York city and Staten Island, my object being to gain experience and practice until a better opportunity should offer for presenting my genius to an 10 74 €{jeatrical Caricature^ admiring public. My next move was to attach myself to a min- strel band then showing at Croton Hall, at Division and Chatham streets. I was not employed, but was rather a volunteer, and used to carry water for the comedian. At Croton Hall I got an occasional opportunity to display my ability ; but my father now interfered and sent me off to the country to " cure me of the nonsense," but my dear parent could not hew out my career in the rough. I was no sooner in the country than I was in full blast as an amateur entertainer, and the whole country grew to know Tony Pastor " the clever boy from New York." My services were in demand for parties and church affairs. On one occasion, while traveling a country road, a young farmer stopped me and caused me to mount a hay wagon and do a song and dance for the amusement of his hay- makers, put a dollar in my hand, and sent me on my way. I soon tired of country life and returned to New York, and my parents, seeing that my inclination could not be diverted, gave up their opposition, and I entered the service of P. T. Barnum at the famous Barnum's Museum, corner of Broadway and Ann streets, where I was regarded as a sort of infant prodigy, and where I attracted the attention of Colonel Alvan Mann, one of the proprietors of Raymond & Waring's Menagerie, who en- gaged me as an end man, — or rather end boy, as I was not yet fourteen years old, — and I went out into the world at last as a performer ; and my dream was at length realized. Having become a professional performer I soon felt the mana- gerial bee buzzing in my bonnet ; and it was not long before I started my first venture in this wise. At that time the menagerie and circus did not perform at night, day performances only being deemed profitable in the country towns. I organized a concert troupe and minstrel show, and would hire a school or court- house, or the dining-room of the hotel, as the case might be, and announcing the same from the ring in the afternoon, would gen- erally have a good audience to reward us. As the expense gen- erally was at zero the profits were considerable ; but the mana- gers of the menagerie did not relish the idea of my making too much money, and they put a stop to my concerts. 3Ttjeatrical Caricature^ 75 Defeated, but not conquered, I purchased a number of illus- trated periodicals, and cutting out the pictures, mounted them on muslin strips in panorama style. I started a peep show. This consisted of a box-wagon with small peep-holes in sides and rear, with a tin reflector at the top to throw the light upon the muslin, which gave the pictures a transparent appearance, yet sharply defined. A team of horses, a bass drum, and plenty of red, white, and blue calico completed the outfit ; and with this I would take my stand in the market-place, or alongside the menagerie entrance, and with the beating of drum and clanging of cymbals announce " a grand panorama of the world, all to be seen for a sixpence," — a piece of money now obsolete, but at that time our principal small coin, its value six and one quarter cents, and in the different sections of our country variously termed "sixpence," "fip," and "picayune." Again the current of currency flowed toward my pockets. I became a walking de- pository of small coin — dimes, half dimes, sixpences, and shil- lings weighed me down, and I became the Croesus of our com- pany. But, alas ! again the demon of jealousy and avarice was on my track — this time the village constable. I was proclaim- ing the wonders of my panorama when he came along, and without paying the fee, proceeded to enjoy my show. I de- manded payment, which he refused. I protested in vigorous style, when, displaying his shield, he yanked me before the Town Council for doing business without a license. They fined me $10 for the offense, $10 for obstructing the roadway, and if I had not kept quiet, would have fined me $10 more for con- tempt of court. I pleaded inability to pay, and they confiscated my wagon. I disclaimed ownership of the horses, or they would have kept them also. And thus ended speculation number two. Defeated in my concerts and my peep show, I cast about for a new effort, and at length induced Mr. George Bunnell, who with his brother was owner of a small snake exhibit with the menagerie, to join me in organizing an annex show given in an extra tent under license from our proprietors, with the snakes and the assistance of Mr. Joseph Hazlett, a violinist, and the two children of Mr. Charles Sherwood, a rider in the big show. 76 Cicatrical Caricature^ We gave quite a concert, dividing the profits one half to Bunnell, and one quarter each to Hazlett and myself. This was a great success, and I saved my money. I followed circus life for some years, being successively ring- master, clown, and actor, creating a Yankee part with Levi P. North's circus at Chicago in a horse drama — "The Days of '76." After this I made my appearance in New York at the Old Bowery as a stage clown, in a play called " The Monster of St. Michel's." This was before the advent of George L. Fox, who afterward achieved fame and fortune as a stage clown in the same house. I also appeared at the Bowery in comedy roles, playing principal comedy in " Tippoo Sahib," a burlesque founded on the Anglo-Indian mutiny. At that time there flourished in the Bowery a social coterie called "The Side-pocket Club " — a number of young men who, being always ready for fun, pre- vailed upon the stage manager to let them go on as supers for one night only. In the action of the play was a battle between the Sepoys and the British troops, with cannon fired from the back of elephants and other East Indian realism. The British, of course, were the victors ; but the Side-pocket boys, led on by Dan Kerrigan, turned the tables, and, as Indians, beat the Brit- ish army of paid supers, putting them to rout, and driving Jo- seph Foster, the stage manager, distracted. The battle raged until the curtain was rung down. In 1861, the mutterings of the trouble that was soon to burst on us with all its awful carnage and woe appalled the proprietors of circuses and menageries, and I sought in the variety theaters the employment that the tented arena gave but little promise of. I sang at Rivers' Melodeon in Philadelphia and later at Butler's American Theater, more popularly known as 444 Broadway, where I remained four years. One afternoon my attention was attracted by the crowds wending their way toward Union Square. I inquired the cause ; the dreaded answer came : " The war has begun! Fort Sumter has been fired upon! " Here was the culmination of all the past year's anxiety and apprehen- sion. I mused on the situation, and somehow I did not feel like singing comic songs that night. I went to a music-store and Cicatrical €aricature£ 77 bought "The Star Spangled Banner." I committed the words to memory, and that night asked the audience to join me in its chorus. Such a chorus and such a cheer as went up at that theater ! I never heard its like before ; I never shall again. It was enthusiasm. But it was dreadful enthusiasm. It meant war ; it meant that which is now history — that struggle for the grand old Union ! It meant that those young men would give their blood to wipe out the stain ! That the Star- Spangled Banner should not be trailed in the dust ! My experience at No. 444 opened up the idea that in the va- riety show there was an opportunity waiting for the man — the man who would disentangle it from cigar-smoking and beer- drinking accompaniment, and I determined to make the effort. I laid my plans before my friends. Some shook their heads ; others said the idea was good and buttoned their pockets ; others en- thused only to grow cold soon after, until at length Sam Sharpley, the minstrel manager, joined hands with me, and we made our first bid for lady patronage at Paterson, N. J., on March 21, 1865. Our success was good, but it took a long while to induce the ladies to attend in any considerable number. From Pater- son we journeyed to other towns, advertising freely and pledg- ing our reputation that the show should in no sense offend. That has ever been my trademark, and our moderate success became positive, until to-day the variety show no longer is re- garded as an outcast, but takes its turn in the best houses of America and enjoys an equal share of the best patronage. On the night of July 31, 1865, Mr. Sharpley and myself opened at No. 201 Bowery, New York city, "Tony Pastor's Opera House," on the site of the present People's Theater. Mr. Sharpley remained my partner for one season and retired, leav- ing me with the battle scarcely half won — leaving me sole owner of an idea — an idea I have worked upon, until to-day I am proud to say that I have demonstrated into a fact that the specialty stage is a valuable school to the actor; that its possi- bilities were greater than even its votaries then believed, and to- day it enjoys not only public favor, but popular distinction, while its foster child, farce comedy, is now the public furore. 78 €{jeatrical Caricature^ I remained in the Bowery ten years, going thence to Nos. 585 and 587 Broadway, where I remained six years, and finally to my present location in Fourteenth Street, where I have been for nine years. In my career I have always endeavored to extend encourage- ment to the young artist. On my stage many estimable actors and actresses who now soar high in the dramatic firmament have first tried their wings. The list is too well known to require men- tion here. Suffice it to say I have always tried to nourish bud- ding talent ; to say, " Well done, my boy ! " or " Bravo, lassie ! " and thus cheer them to braver efforts ; and I have reaped the reward. In the hundreds I could name there is not one who has proved ungrateful — a noble record for a noble profession. ui6 W Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide Treatment Date: Oct. 2007 PreservationTechnologies A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION 111 Thomson Park Drive Cranberry Township, PA 16066 itlMLSf CONGRESS 021 000 570 5 vaMG HH OyMEHafl H BkmBCc m Ss