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"THE NAKED TRUTH!" 
 
 Hn flnstbe Ibistor^ 
 
 OF 
 
 ZheMnck Crook 
 
 BY 
 
 JOSEPH WHITTON. 
 

 Copyrighted, 1897, by Joseph Whitton. 
 
 H. W. SHAW CO., PHILA. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 IT is curious that the history of the 
 Black Crook — the pioneer of the American 
 Spectacular Drama, and greater in tinseled 
 gorgeousness and money-drawing power 
 than any of its followers — should never 
 have been told, or, rather, truthfully told. 
 There have been many professed records of 
 it, no two of them alike, and all of them 
 incorrect or incomplete. Now, if the mat- 
 ter be of sufficient importance to record at 
 all, it is due to the reader that the back- 
 bone of the record, at least, be truth. 
 With this view the narrator undertakes the 
 task. His connection with the financial 
 department of Niblo's Garden, previous to 
 the production and during the run of the 
 Crook, enables him to know the facts ; and 
 these the reader also may know, if his 
 patience be strong enough to bear him 
 
 through the following pages. 
 
 J. W. 
 
A SKELETON OF CONTENTS. 
 
 Jarrett & Palmer's search for "Staple Articles" 
 and the " Beauties of Nature " — Silks and Satins ver- 
 sus Paper-muslin — Niblo's Garden the cradle of the 
 Crook — Purchasing the right to play the great drama — 
 The value of "a look into the seeds of Time " — The 
 Crook's author begins to gather in his royal harvest — 
 His love for a joke, and how he saddled one on an 
 early caller — A city of bears and icebergs — A block in 
 the way of the Crook's production — It took a $10,000 
 broom to brush the way clear— Beginning prepara- 
 tions — Their costliness, and extent of outlay before 
 completion — The outlay not long in coming back — 
 The Barnum-Bennett squabble — A fox without a tail — 
 The showman's diplomatic sand-bag, and how he used 
 it — "This establishment does not advertise in the 
 New York Herald'''' — Bennett and his gold-edged 
 abuse — New York and Sodom and Gomorrah in the 
 same boat — The virtues of smoked glass— The Pulpit's 
 war on the Crook— Smyth's batteries at Cooper Insti- 
 tute — Bombarding the fair breastworks of the Crook — 
 Brimstone has no terrors for the New Yorker — The 
 Crook loses one of its props — Bill of the first night — 
 Nightly expenses — Salaries of the Ballet — length of 
 run, and the fortunes made for those who had a finger 
 in the Crook's pie — The Crook in a literary light — A 
 hint to managers. 
 
AN INSIDE HISTORY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE BLACK CROOK. 
 
 Early in the summer of '66 Messrs. 
 Jarrett & Palmer — the wide-famed thea- 
 trical managers and speculators of those 
 days — returned from Europe, whose prin- 
 cipal cities they had ransacked in search of 
 some gigantic attraction with which to 
 dazzle and monopolize the attention of 
 American theatre-goers and draw enough 
 dollars from their pockets to comfortably 
 line their own. 
 
 After ripe deliberation they decided that 
 a Grand Ballet would be the proper thing. 
 Jarrett' s reasons for this were cogent, 
 and his argument — as coming events were 
 to prove — thoroughly sound. u I^egs are 
 staple articles, and will never go out of 
 fashion while the world lasts. They top 
 the list of the 'Beauties of Nature,' and 
 5 
 
we will gather an array of them that will 
 make even the surfeited New Yorker open 
 his eyes and his pocket and hold his breath 
 in astonishment." 
 
 Upon this line these cunning managers 
 began their work. The most accomplished 
 artistes and the prettiest women were picked 
 from the leading theatres of London, Paris, 
 Berlin, and Milan. No Ballet so complete 
 in its ensemble, and with so ravishing a 
 collection of the "Beauties of Nature," 
 was ever before seen, or, if it were, cer- 
 tainly not by cisatlantic eyes. 
 
 The Ballet being completed, the next 
 care of the managers was the costumes. 
 These they had made in Paris, and with no 
 regard to cost. The most expensive satins 
 and silks were used, provided the needed 
 effect and gorgeousness could not be 
 obtained without them. No brummagem, 
 no cheap sheen of paper-muslin, so long 
 relied upon by the old-time economic man- 
 ager to cheat the eyes of his patrons. All 
 a true dream of splendor, a picture of glit- 
 tering reality, to be hereafter displayed in 
 a frame of bewildering enchantment. 
 
 When all was ready, the two managers, 
 with their troupe and its belongings, took 
 
passage for New York, arriving here, as I 
 have said, in the early summer of '66. 
 
 Niblo's Garden was then considered the 
 most popular of New York's theatres, and 
 not — what in after years it became — too far 
 down town for the convenience of amuse- 
 ment-seekers. The wholesale business 
 houses were confined, with their nightly 
 gloom and quiet, to that portion of Broad- 
 way which lies below Canal Street. Im- 
 mediately above the latter, the great 
 thoroughfare commenced its dizzy whirl. 
 And dizzy enough it was, and giddy 
 enough, and gaudy enough, to satisfy the 
 most hilarious owl and upset the bile of the 
 sedate. Niblo's was in the midst of it all. 
 Over its broad entrance flashed a sign bear- 
 ing the name, formed of illuminated globes, 
 and of more colors than "Joseph's coat." 
 It was one of the nightly features of New 
 York's artery, and its main object was to 
 stop the flow of frisky blood and coax the 
 boodled substance into the coffers of the 
 box-office. 
 
 The theatre was a complete one, famed 
 for its beauty, and with a grip on public 
 favor that some of its devotees thought 
 everlasting. But, alas for the evanes- 
 
 7 
 
cence of all earthly things ! The mortality 
 of theatres seems no less sure than that of 
 their goers ; and this one, so long the pride 
 of the metropolis — this one, that cradled 
 the Crook and nursed its growth into favor- 
 hood — this one, that in the sixty-six years 
 of its existence twice arose from its ashes, 
 each time more beautiful than before, has 
 at last given up the ghost, and now lies 
 dead and buried with a sky-scraper for 
 its tombstone. 
 
 But to resume. On their arrival in New 
 York, Jarrett & Palmer called upon Will- 
 iam Wheatley, who was then lessee and 
 manager of Niblo's, told him of the attrac- 
 tion they had secured, and made a proposal 
 that he should join them in the production 
 of a spectacular drama, in which their 
 Ballet would be introduced, using the stage 
 of Niblo's for the purpose. Their proposal 
 was accepted. 
 
 The next consideration was how and 
 where to obtain a piece that would answer 
 their purpose. Delay was dangerous, for 
 the salaries of the troupe had to be paid, 
 whether they performed or not. Besides, 
 it would take time, and a good deal of it, 
 to prepare for the production of a spectac- 
 
 8 
 
ular piece in the style they contemplated. 
 Their intention was to be ready with it by 
 the first week in September, and to do this 
 would tax every hour of the intervening 
 time. 
 
 A few days after the agreement was 
 signed between Jarrett & Palmer and 
 Wheatley, and while I was busy over the 
 books in the box-office, Wheatley sent 
 word from his room in the Metropolitan 
 that he wished to see me. When I entered 
 he was busily occupied reading a manu- 
 script, the nature of which my nearsight- 
 edness prevented me knowing. He did 
 not keep me long in doubt. Holding up 
 the MS. in one hand, while he brought the 
 other down on the desk before him with a 
 thwack that made the chandelier-drops 
 rattle, he said, or, rather, shouted : 
 
 "My boy, congratulate me; I have a 
 fortune here." 
 
 4 "Where?" I asked, in innocent aston- 
 ishment. 
 
 * ' Where ? Why here, in my very grasp. ' ' 
 
 He stopped, looked again at the manu- 
 script, and then handed it to me. 
 
 4 ' Ivook over that, my dear fellow, and 
 tell me what you think of it. ' ' 
 9 
 
I took the MS. and read upon the cover, 
 in bold script letters, the words : 
 
 THE BLACK CROOK, 
 
 By Charges M. B arras. 
 
 "Sit down, rny boy, and take your 
 time, ' ' said Wheatley ; ( ' you surely can 
 spare me an hour or two. ' ' 
 
 Patiently did I devote myself to the task, 
 and soon saw, .what Wheatley had already 
 seen, that here was the very piece to fit the 
 Ballet — a clothes-line, as it were, on which 
 to hang the pretty dresses, besides afford- 
 ing abundant opportunities for scenic dis- 
 play. True, there was no originality in 
 the plot — if it had a plot at all — being a 
 medley made up of the Naiad Queen, 
 Undine, Lurline, and two or three 
 other spectacular dramas of like nature. 
 Still, originality was a matter of little 
 moment. It was just the wanted piece in 
 every other respect, and, if the plot had no 
 originality, the title certainly had enough 
 of it to insure, as I thought, the success of 
 the play. 
 
 "Well," asked Wheatley, as I laid down 
 the MS., "what do you think of it ? " 
 
 IO 
 
" Think of it? Well, my opinion is 
 you'll never find another piece so near to 
 what you want. ' ' 
 
 u So near? Why, it's exactly what we 
 want. ' ' 
 
 "And what does Barras ask for his 
 drama ? ' ' 
 
 "Ah, my boy, there's the rub. His 
 terms are these : Two thousand dollars for 
 the sole right to play it in New York City; 
 we to play it so long as we like, but there 
 must be no intermission in its run ; other- 
 wise the contract ceases. What do you 
 advise ? ' ' 
 
 My advice was short. ' 'Accept his terms ; 
 the title alone is worth all he asks for the 
 play. ' ' 
 
 ( ' That is all very well ; but you forget 
 that Jarrett & Palmer are entitled to their 
 say in the matter." 
 
 "True ; but they surely won't object." 
 
 "Ah, but they do object. They both 
 have been here and think Barras' terms 
 beyond all reason. ' ' 
 
 " Have they anything else to propose? " 
 
 "Yes, they have two propositions. 
 First, to have Daly write a play, which 
 they think he will do for five hundred dol- 
 ii 
 
lars. Second, to use the Naiad Queen, 
 which can be had for nothing. ' ' 
 
 ' ' Have you given up all hope of win- 
 ning thein over ? ' ' 
 
 "By no means ; we will meet again 
 to-morrow, and, though it is a matter of two 
 to one, I think they will yield." 
 
 The meeting took place and they did 
 yield. Barras was sent for and the con- 
 tract signed. 
 
 If at that time their eyes had been sharp 
 enough, as Banquo says, "to look into the 
 seeds of time and say which grain will 
 grow and which will not," they might 
 have been fifty thousand dollars richer. A 
 bold offer of ten thousand for the entire 
 right to the piece would probably have 
 been too great a temptation for Barras to 
 resist ; and the sixty thousand, in the shape 
 of royalties which, in a few months, he 
 scooped into his pocket, would have gone 
 into their own. They did try it on after- 
 wards, but it was too late. ' ' The seeds of 
 time" had already sprouted with all the 
 agility of Jack's beanstalk, and Barras 
 laughed at their offer as he busied himself 
 gathering in his royal harvest. 
 
 Experience, as we know, is not the 
 
cheapest commodity in the market, yet 
 fifty thousand dollars seems rather a steep 
 price to pay for a little bit of it. How- 
 ever, the Crook's managers had learned 
 one thing — if they were not before 
 acquainted with it — how much sharper the 
 hindsight of human nature is than its 
 foresight. 
 
 Speaking of Barras and his royal harvest, 
 here is a story which may have some 
 amusement in it for the reader. While the 
 Crook was at the height of its popularity, 
 its author, who was then living at the 
 St. Nicholas Hotel, was besieged day and 
 night by speculators anxious to make their 
 fortune by securing the right to play the 
 piece in some city or cities where it had 
 not as yet been produced. One of these 
 fellows — probably with the idea of getting 
 ahead of somebody else, or, maybe, 
 having faith in the early-bird-and-worm 
 theory — made his call at the hotel about 
 sunrise and insisted upon the clerk having 
 Barras hustled out of bed, saying that he 
 must see him and on a matter of the 
 greatest importance to that gentleman. 
 Barras dressed himself and came down, but 
 not in the best of humors. He was fond 
 13 
 
of his bed — 10 o'clock being his usual 
 hour of leaving it — and the idea of having 
 his morning nap broken in two had com- 
 menced to heat up his pot of wrath. By 
 the time he reached the hotel parlor it 
 was at the boiling-point, and without much 
 ado he began to ladle it out on the head of 
 his caller. 
 
 " Well, sir, what the'd — 1 do you mean 
 by hauling me out of bed at this hour ? Is 
 the hotel on fire ? ' ' 
 
 ' ' I beg pardon, Mr. Barras ; I was most 
 anxious to see you and wanted to be sure 
 of catching you in." 
 
 ' ' Catching me in ? Catching me in 
 bed, I suppose you mean. Well, now 
 you have caught me there, what do you 
 want ? ' ' 
 
 1 ( I would like to purchase the right to 
 play the Black Crook in some city, I am 
 not particular which one." 
 
 Now, Barras was something of a humor- 
 ist, fond of his joke, and always able to fit 
 one in wherever he saw a place for it. So, 
 putting the lid on his wrath, he took from 
 his pocket a paper which he pretended was 
 a list of the various cities for which the 
 right to play the Crook had been sold. He 
 14 
 
ran his eye over it, up and down, mum- 
 bling its supposed contents to himself. 
 
 "New York, Baltimore, Boston, St. 
 Paul, Richmond, Chicago, Nashville, St. 
 Louis, Minneapolis, Cleveland, New 
 Orleans, Bangor, Savannah, Cincinnati, 
 Louisville, San Francisco, Omaha, Pitts- 
 burgh, Mobile, Memphis, Troy. — Ahem ! 
 I am very sorry, sir, but your chances are 
 
 slim. Every city and town is Stop a 
 
 moment, I am wrong ; here is one left 
 which may answer your purpose, as you 
 say you are not particular. ' ' 
 \ A light glowed in the caller's face as he 
 eagerly asked : 
 
 " Where— what is it?" 
 " Sitka." 
 
 The caller pondered a moment on the 
 character of Sitka's population, which at 
 that time consisted chiefly of bears and 
 icebergs ; then the light in his face went 
 out, and, picking up his hat, the caller 
 I went out, too. 
 
 I But to proceed. Now that the managers 
 \ had secured their piece, another difficulty 
 i stepped in the way of its production. We 
 | had played the Ravels the previous season 
 to such big business, they were re-engaged 
 
 *5 
 
and we were now in the midst of this 
 second engagement — a disastrous one — 
 with six weeks of it yet to run. It was 
 absolutely necessary that we have posses- 
 sion of the stage in order to make the 
 intended alterations in it, or, ' rather, to 
 replace it with an entirely new one. We 
 asked the Ravels to consent to some 
 arrangement which would end their en- 
 gagement and give us the use of the stage. 
 They were obstinate, however, in their 
 desire to play out their engagement, and 
 consequently their consent came high. 
 But we had to have it. They demanded 
 the sum of ten thousand dollars — and 
 got it. 
 
 And now commenced the preparations, 
 which, in their cost, were to exceed those 
 of any spectacular play hitherto produced. 
 Before the curtain rose on the Crook's first 
 night, there had been an outlay of fifty- 
 five thousand dollars. The bills and adver- 
 tisements made the sum five thousand less ; 
 but this was an error, and the kind of one 
 that managers are not apt to make. (I need 
 not have mentioned that fact. The public 
 are already aware — for Shakspere's fat 
 knight has so assured them — that "this/ 
 16 
 
world is given to lying," and are also 
 aware that a manager is no exception when 
 the time comes to blazon his bills with the 
 cost of a play.) The real expense of the 
 Crook — by reason of the tangled condition 
 of Jarrett & Palmer's account of outlay on 
 the other side of the water, with Wheat- 
 ley's on this side — was not known on the 
 opening night, nor, indeed, for some 
 time after. 
 
 The fifty-five thousand was not long in 
 coming back. In thirty-five performances — 
 that is to say, five weeks including the five 
 Saturday matinees — the Crook had taken 
 in over eighty-seven thousand dollars ; the 
 running expenses during that time being 
 about thirty-one thousand five hundred, or 
 a little over six thousand a week. 
 
 And now for a bit of inside history that 
 bears indirectly, if not directly, on the fate 
 of the Crook. Some months previous to 
 its production, the elder Bennett (of the 
 Herald) and Barnum had a quarrel, which 
 originated in this way : During the war, 
 and toward the close of it, the great show- 
 man's Museum was burned to the ground, 
 and Bennett fixed a longing eye on the site 
 as the most suitable one on which to erect, 
 
for the Herald) ] s accommodation, a big 
 marble building that would be an orna- 
 ment to the city and a monument to his 
 individual pluck. 
 
 He opened negotiations with the owner, 
 with the high hope of securing the ground 
 and beginning his building at once. A 
 serious obstacle blocked the way. Bar- 
 n urn's lease had still a year to run, and the 
 wily showman would not consent to throw 
 it up, except on such terms as Bennett 
 thought most exorbitant. Perhaps they 
 were. No doubt they were. The most 
 auspicious time for a man to get the big- 
 gest price for anything is the time when 
 the other fellow can't do without it. And 
 this was Bennett's fix. He paid the price, 
 but he had something up his sleeve for the 
 showman which the latter didn't look for. 
 "Now, Mr. Barnum, there's your money; 
 but, with it, I want you to understand that 
 hereafter no advertisement of yours can go 
 into the New York Herald at any price." 
 
 This was a blow between the eyes for 
 Barnum. The fire, though it had de- 
 stroyed his Museum, had not burned up 
 his love for humbug. He had already se- 
 cured a building farther up Broadway, 
 
 18 
 
where he intended to establish another 
 home for his wooly horses and fish tail 
 mermaids. Hence, Bennett's ultimatum 
 staggered him. None knew better than he 
 the value of the Herald as an advertising- 
 medium, and to be shut out forever from 
 the use of its columns would be a calamity 
 he could not submit to ; nor would he, 
 without a struggle. If he found that his 
 struggle was vain and he must submit, 
 then, he thought he saw a way to square 
 accounts with Bennett by knocking him 
 out with a sort of diplomatic sand-bag. 
 
 He made his struggle, but to no purpose. 
 He claimed that a newspaper, like an inn, 
 was for the accommodation of the public ; 
 and that its proprietor could be compelled 
 to publish any advertisement that was not 
 morally objectionable or libelous. As both 
 Bennett and the law refused to look at it 
 in that light, the showman gathered his 
 wits together, thought of his sand-bag, 
 and started for his revenge. 
 
 This is the way he got it. 
 
 But, stop ; I am a little ahead of my 
 story. 
 
 Some time before this quarrel, the man- 
 agers of the various theatres and minstrel - 
 19 
 
managers had formed a league for the pur- 
 pose of fighting what they thought the 
 unreasonable demands of the orchestra for 
 more salary. These demands became too 
 frequent and heavy to suit them, hence 
 their league — which bore the somewhat 
 grandiloquent title, "The Board of Asso- 
 ciate Managers of New York" — came into 
 existence. Its meetings were held in one 
 of the rooms of the Metropolitan Hotel, 
 and their average attendance was made up 
 of, perhaps, eight or ten members. Bar- 
 num was one of the big guns of the Board, 
 and his influence there was the sand- 
 bag he had in pickle for Bennett, and 
 which he was now itching for an opportu- 
 nity to use on the head of the unsuspecting 
 Scotchman. The opportunity came. At 
 the meeting following his quarrel he laid 
 his complaint before the Board, declaring 
 Bennett's action unwarranted and unjust, 
 and then moved that the managers, in a 
 body, withdraw all their advertisements 
 and printing from the New York Herald. 
 
 There was discussion, of course, and 
 much of it. Barnum argued that the im- 
 portance of the Herald was unduly magni- 
 fied ; and that the Board's united action 
 
would render the omission of the adver- 
 tisement harmless. Wheatley, on the other 
 hand, took a different view. He thought 
 that Barnum's remedy for his complaint, 
 though it might be satisfactory to that 
 gentleman, was an unwholesome dose for 
 those who were suffering from no such ail- 
 ment. It savored too much of the fox in 
 the fable, who, having had his tail cut off, 
 tried to persuade the others of his tribe 
 that a tail was really of no use to a fox, 
 and that they all would look much hand- 
 somer without one. 
 
 Barnum, however, had everything his 
 own way, and his motion was seconded 
 and carried with but two dissenting votes — 
 William Wheatley's and L,ester Wallack's. 
 Another motion was then made and carried. 
 "All of our advertisements in the other 
 papers, and all of our bills and posters, 
 shall have the displayed headline : ' This 
 establishment does not advertise in the 
 New York Herald^ " — a line, by the way, 
 often enough in the eye of the public to 
 become a by-word, and to be used by every 
 peanut-stand on the Bowery that could 
 afford a bandbox-lid and a bit of charcoal. 
 
 And thus Barnum got his revenge. It 
 
now remained to be seen who would have 
 to pay for it. Wheatley took the matter 
 philosophically, although his mind was 
 somewhat exercised as to the attitude the 
 Herald would take regarding the Crook. 
 Either of two things might be looked for — 
 silence or abuse. He preferred the latter, 
 and got it. 
 
 As to the motive behind Bennett's 
 attacks, I have my own surmises. He was 
 too shrewd a newspaper man, and too 
 well equipped with knowledge of human 
 nature, not to know that a column of the 
 Herald) s abuse would be worth more to a 
 manager's exchequer than a column of its 
 praise, provided the abuse be of the right 
 sort. He was, no doubt, aware of all that 
 took place at the meeting of the Board of 
 Managers in relation to the withdrawal of 
 their advertising, and, possibly, had his 
 information from Wheatley himself. He 
 knew the stubborn stand the latter took in 
 opposition to Barnum's motion, and also 
 knew that he stood almost alone in his loy- 
 alty to the Herald. Hence I think that 
 good-will, and not enmity, was at the bot- 
 tom of his action. I imagine the astute 
 old Scotchman soliloquizing : "This man, 
 
Wheatley, is a good fellow, and a sensible 
 one ; but I can't consistently puff his 
 piece. I can, however, and will, do some- 
 thing which may benefit him more. I will 
 give him and his play a semi-weekly 
 column of gold-edged abuse." 
 
 Whether my imagination be right or 
 wrong, I cannot say; but I can say that 
 the abuse arrived on time. From the fol- 
 lowing extracts the reader can judge 
 whether the edges of it were of gold or 
 only pinchbeck : — 
 
 "Nothing in any other Christian coun- 
 try, or in modern times, has approached 
 the indecent and demoralizing exhibition 
 at Wheatley' s Theatre in this city. The 
 Model Artists are more respectable and less 
 disgusting, because they are surrounded 
 with a sort of mystery — something like a 
 veil of secrecy — which women do not look 
 behind and which men slip in stealthily to 
 see. But the almost nude females at 
 Wheatley's are brought out boldly before 
 the public gaze. * * * 
 
 " Of course, Wheatley is making money. 
 
 It is just such a spectacle as will make an 
 
 excitement and draw those crowds of loose 
 
 characters and people with morbid, pru- 
 
 23 
 
rient tastes, which may be found in all 
 large cities. Then there are a great many 
 people who come in from the surrounding 
 country to get a glimpse of this new thing. 
 We must not, therefore, give credit to our 
 citizens for being the only supporters of 
 the shocking performance. It gets a great 
 deal of support from the countrymen 
 who come to town expressly to see the 
 1 elephant.' * * * 
 
 ' ' Nothing, as we said, has been wit- 
 nessed in a theatre in Modern times so 
 indecent as this spectacle. We can 
 imagine there might have been in Sodom 
 and Gomorrah such another place and 
 scene, such a theatre and spectacle on the 
 Broadway of those doomed cities just before 
 fire and brimstone rained down upon them 
 and they were buried in the ruins. 
 
 c ' There was, too, we believe, similar 
 places and scenes in Pompeii just as that 
 city was buried beneath the eruption of 
 Vesuvius. We may be saved, perhaps, 
 from a like fate on account of the many 
 good people there are in New York. * * * 
 But that does not do away with the guilt 
 of tolerating or permitting such an exhibi- 
 tion to exist as that at Wheatley's. Our 
 24 
 
respectable citizens should cry it down, and 
 the police should arrest all engaged in such 
 a violation of public decency and moral- 
 ity. * * * 
 
 " L,et all husbands and parents and guar- 
 dians who value the morals of their wives, 
 their daughters, and their wards, bear a 
 watchful eye on their charges, and keep 
 them from out the walls of Niblo's Garden 
 during the reign of the Black Crook. * * * 
 
 " If any of the Herald? s readers, in spite 
 of its warnings and advice, are determined 
 to gaze on the indecent and dazzling brill- 
 iancy of the Black Crook, they should pro- 
 vide themselves with a piece of smoked 
 glass. ' ' 
 
 Another and a very potent element in 
 the making up of the Crook's success was 
 the war waged against it by a portion of 
 the New York Pulpit. The most influen- 
 tial of these warriors — by "influential" I 
 mean in his unconscious and unintentional 
 aid to the Crook — was the Rev. Dr. Charles 
 B. Smyth. He planted his batteries at the 
 Cooper Institute, and on Sunday, Novem- 
 ber 1 8th, opened his fire with a red-hot 
 shot at the fair breastworks of the Crook. 
 He took for his text : 
 25 
 
"THE NUISANCES OF NEW YORK, 
 
 PARTICULARLY 
 
 THE NAKED TRUTH." 
 
 This was not from the Bible, but the 
 reverend gentleman thought it had more 
 powder in it and would make more noise 
 than any Biblical one. Perhaps he was 
 right in this, but he was wrong if he sup- 
 posed that New York sinners would rather 
 hear "the Naked Truth" than see it. 
 However, the Institute was well filled, and 
 the sermon — if sermon it could be called — ■ 
 seemed to please his hearers. And not 
 them alone. When it appeared in the 
 Herald of next morning the whole city 
 was delighted with it, and none had more 
 cause for delight than the managers of the 
 Black Crook. 
 
 This choice bit of "the Naked Truth" 
 will show why. 
 
 "But our chief concern to-day is with 
 the dancing theatrical representations, and 
 of a particular establishment which has 
 lately attracted a great deal of attention. 
 I know not what may have been the mo- 
 tive that impelled the gentlemen, to 
 whom it belongs, to get up its sights. 
 26 
 
Who can tell but their love of human 
 nature in general is such that, from the 
 most generous impulses, they have gotten 
 up an expensive and dazzling entertain- 
 ment purely for the purpose of lightening 
 the cares of life of the busy and careworn 
 by giving the latter an opportunity, on as 
 low terms, almost, as the most extravagant 
 places of amusement, of seeing by gas- 
 light and hell- fire light, and in the bronzed 
 light of His Satannic Majesty's counte- 
 nance, and in the red glare of the record- 
 ing demon, the beautiful countenances, 
 regular busts, trunks and limbs chiseled 
 out from head to foot by Nature's own 
 hand with an exquisiteness of perfection 
 far surpassing any that the finest art of 
 man has ever wrought in Parian marble, 
 with charms more bewitching and attitudes 
 of softness and luxury most fascinat- 
 ing. * * * Poor, dear, darling, charming, 
 enchanting creatures ; who could help lov- 
 ing them ? ' ' 
 
 There may have been some brimstone in 
 all this, but scarcely of the sort to scare 
 the sight-loving theatre-goer and frighten 
 him away from Niblo's. If the average 
 New Yorker has any wholesome fear of 
 27 
 
hell-fire — which some people doubt — it 
 must be poked under his nose in a very 
 different manner. His curiosity is vigorous 
 and easily aroused, and when it is he takes 
 the first opportunity to put it to sleep 
 again, and all the brimstone that this world 
 contains, or the other either, can't stop 
 him. Now, among the crowd that listened 
 to the Reverend Mr. Smyth's discourse, I 
 will venture to say there were few, if any, 
 whose curiosity was not wide awake, and 
 who did not make an inward resolve to 
 look at once on the wickedness of the 
 Crook, or if they had already been guilty 
 of that crime, to double it up and take 
 another look. 
 
 Unfortunately for the Crook, the rev- 
 erend gentleman's bombardment at the In- 
 stitute met with an untimely end. His 
 first broadside displeased the trustees, who 
 spiked his guns, and in a summary manner: 
 "Mr. Smyth, we are no judge of powder, 
 and yours may be all that you think it is. 
 But we do know brimstone when we smell 
 it, and the fragrance of yours is not ortho- 
 dox enough to suit the noses of the trus- 
 tees. You will therefore remove your bat- 
 teries and fire your brimstone from other 
 28 
 
quarters whose nostrils are more ignorant 
 or less particular. ' ' 
 
 And thus the Crook lost one of its props; 
 but its superstructure now was so strongly 
 underpinned by popular support, the loss 
 of one prop was of little consequence. 
 
 The following announce bill of the 
 opening night shows both the outlay on 
 the Crook and the lay-out it had in store 
 for the eyes of its patrons. 
 
 NIBL,0'S GARDEN. 
 
 Lessee and Manager, William Wheatley. 
 
 Doors open at 7. Begins at 7%. 
 
 OPENING OF THE REGULAR SEASON. 
 Monday, September 10th, 1866, and every evening-, and Sat- 
 urday afternoon at 2 o'clock, will be presented an Original and 
 Grand Magical Spectacular Drama in 4 acts, by C. M. Barras, 
 Esq., entitled, 
 
 THE BLACK CROOK, 
 
 the sole right of which production has been purchased by Mr. 
 Wheatley, for New York and its vicinity. Mr. Wheatley is 
 likewise happy in having entered into arrangements with 
 Messrs. Jarrett & Palmer for the introduction of their 
 
 GREAT PARISIENNE BALLET TROUPE, 
 under the direction of the famed Maitre de Ballet, Signor 
 David Costa (from the Grand Opera, Paris). 
 
 PREMIER DANSEURS ASSOLUTE. 
 Mlle. Marie Bonfanti, from the Grand Opera, Paris, and 
 
 Covent Garden Theatre, London. 
 
 Mlle. Rita Sangali, from the Grand Opera, Berlin, and 
 
 Her Majesty's Theatre, London. 
 
 Their first appearance in America. 
 
 FIRST PREMIER AND SOLOIST. 
 
 Mlle. Betty Regal, from the Grand Opera, Paris. 
 
 Her first appearance in America. 
 
 2 9 
 
SECOND PREMIERS AND SOLOISTS. 
 
 Mile. Louise Mazzeri, 
 " Guiseppi, 
 " Lusardi, 
 " Marie Duclos, 
 
 from Berlin, Milan, 
 
 Mile. Giovanna Mazzeri, 
 " Amele Zuccoli, 
 " Eugenie Zuccoli, 
 " Helene Duclos, 
 Paris, and London. 
 
 CORYPHEES. 
 
 Mile. E. Regal, 
 " Amande, 
 " Nathalie, 
 " Doche, 
 " Lacroix, 
 " Portois, 
 " Chereri, 
 " Artois, 
 ' ' Elise, 
 " Duval, 
 
 from Paris, London, and Berlin. 
 Their first appearance in America 
 
 and 
 
 Mile, Gabrielle, 
 
 " Irban, 
 
 " Marie, 
 
 " Helene, 
 Delval, 
 
 " Bertha, 
 
 " L. Portois, 
 
 " Centbertrand. 
 
 " H. Delval, 
 
 " Paulina, 
 
 FIFTY AUXILIARY LADIES 
 
 selected from the principal theatres of London, and America. 
 
 THE LEADING ROLES 
 on this most 
 
 Resplendent, Grand, and Costly Production 
 ever presented on this Continent will be sustained by the fol- 
 lowing artistes, comprising many well-known names and new 
 candidates for public favor. 
 
 Misses Annie Kemp (Prima donna Contralto, from Covent 
 Garden, London ; her first appearance in America in six years). 
 Mary "Wells, Rose Morton (from Royal Lyceum Theatre, Lon- 
 don ; her first appearance in America). Milly Cavendish 
 (from Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, London ; her first appear- 
 ance in America). Messrs. George C. Boniface (first appearance 
 in many years). J. G. Burnett, H. C. Morton (first appear- 
 ance). George Atkins (from Sadler's Wells Theatre, London ; 
 first appearance in America). The well-known Pantomimist, 
 Hernandez Foster (his first appearance at this theatre). J. W. 
 Blaisdell, E. B. Holmes, F. Barry, Rendle, &c, &c. 
 
 The Drama produced under the immediate direction of 
 W. Wheatley. 
 
 The gorgeous and brilliant new scenery by those eminent 
 masters of Scenic Art, Messrs. Richard Marston (of the 
 Covent Garden, London), J. E. Hayes, R. Smith, B. A. Strong, 
 L. F. Server, and Walack. 
 
 30 
 
THE DAZZLING TRANSFORMATION SCENE, 
 painted by 
 
 THE BROTHERS BREW, 
 of London, for E. M. Smith, Esq., of Astley's Theatre, London, 
 and purchased by Messrs. Jarrett & Palmer, at a cost of 
 Fifteen Thousand Dollars. 
 
 ESPECIAL NEW MUSIC, 
 composed by Thomas E. Baker, by courtesy of Leonard Grover, 
 Esq., and produced under the baton of H. G. Dodworth. 
 
 ENTIRELY NEW AND SUPERB COSTUMES, 
 by M. Philipe. 
 
 The GLITTERING AND ENTIRELY NEW ARMORS and BALLET 
 
 Paraphernalia, prepared expressly in Paris, by Granger. 
 
 ENTIRELY NEW PROPERTIES AND APPOINTMENTS, 
 by S. Wallis. 
 THE NEW STAGE AND MACHINERY, 
 combining the greatest improvements of Europe and America, 
 making it equal, if not superior to any in the world, and con- 
 structed at a cost of over ten thousand dollars, by those skillful 
 machinists, John Froude, of Her Majesty's Theatre, London, 
 and Benson Sherwood of this establishment. 
 
 THE COMPLETE GAS CONTRIVANCES, 
 by C. Murray. The Calcium Lights, &c, for the Transformation 
 Scene, by Charles Seward, of London (engaged expressly for 
 the occasion). 
 
 The whole involving an outlay of 
 
 FIFTY THOUSAND DOLLARS. 
 Admission, 75 cents. Secured seats in Dress Circle, $1.00. 
 Reserved seats in Parquet and Parquet Circle, $1.50. Family Circle 
 (entrance on Crosby Street), 50 cents. Private Boxes, $8 and $10. 
 Seats secured six days in advance. 
 
 The nightly expenses exceeded one 
 thousand dollars, the weekly salaries of the 
 Ballet alone — the European part of it — 
 being one thousand and seventy-five dol- 
 lars in gold, then quoted at 150. The 
 piece had a continuous run of nearly six- 
 teen months, and yielded a profit of about 
 31 
 
 1 
 
three hundred thousand dollars to Wheat- 
 ley, an equal sum to Jarrett & Palmer, and 
 sixty thousand dollars to Barras. The 
 speculators, too, had a profitable finger in 
 the Crook's pie. Rullman, the king of 
 their clan, told me he made about thirty 
 thousand dollars ; and doubtless there was 
 none of them who didn't make enough to 
 clothe his back with comfort and his 
 stomach with beer and pretzels for the 
 remainder of his days. 
 
 I have said nothing of the literary 
 merits of the Crook, for the best of rea- 
 sons — it had none. This, however, is no 
 serious fault. Elegant writing, with its 
 daintily picked words and smooth-flowing 
 sentences, is all well enough in its place ; 
 but that place is not in the drama of this 
 prosy, money-grabbing age. The play- 
 goer doesn't relish it. What he wants is 
 something to please his eye and tickle his 
 ear — something to strangle his cares and 
 cut the throat of his troubles — something 
 to make him laugh and forget he has a 
 note to pay to-morrow, with no money to 
 meet it. This is what he is after, and 
 shrewd managers will show their shrewd- 
 ness by accommodating him. 
 32 
 
THE CROOK'S CRADLE. 
 
 NIBLO'S GARDEN IN 1828. 
 
 From the New York Clipper. 
 

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