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HISTORY
OF THE
27116
AMERICAN THEATRE.
1
BY
WILLIAM DUNLAP,
AUTHOR OF MEMOIRS OF GEORGE FREDERICK COOKE, &c.
Where is that palace whereinto sometimes
Foul things intrude not?
The corruption of the Theatre is no disproof of its innate and primitive utility.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
LONDON:
RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET.
1833.
לי
LONDON:.
F. SHOBERL, JUN. LONG ACRE.
27919
--
DEDICATED TO
JAMES FENIMORE COOPER, ESQ.
BY HIS FRIEND,
THE AUTHOR.
.
•
+
PREFACE.
66
COLLEY CIBBER, in his " Apology," the best book ever
written on the subject of the Theatre, thus speaks of the
increase of Playhouses in London, and the effect on the
actors and the public:-"Their extraordinary number, of
course, reduced them to live upon the gratification of such
hearers as they knew would be best pleased with public
offence; and public offence, of what kind soever, will always
be a good reason for making laws to restrain it.”
66
We have seen acted over and over again, in America, that
which Cibber describes and laments as occurring in his time:
They were reduced to have recourse to foreign novelties;
L'Abbe, Balon, and Mademoiselle Subligny, three of the
most famous dancers of the French Opera at that period,
were at several times brought over, at extraordinary rates,
to revive that sickly appetite which plain sense and nature
had satiated. But, alas! there was no recovering to a sound
constitution by those merely costly cordials; the novelty of a
dance was but of a short duration, and perhaps hurtful in its
consequence; for it made a play without a dance less en-
dured than it had been before, when such dancing was not to
be had;" and the same may be said of every deviation from
plain sense and nature.”
Colley Cibber's "Apology" is one of those books in which
a man finds all that he wants to know or say on the subject
he is considering.
Should we not think, that instead of Cibber, some writer
of the present day, who had seen what he thought better
days-some old fellow of seventy, in the year 1832, wrote
vi
PREFACE.
the following?" Polite hearers," in former days, "would
be content with polite entertainments; and I remember the
time when plays, without the aid of farce or pantomime,
were as decently attended as operas or private assemblies;
where a noisy sloven would have passed his time as uneasily
in a front box as in a drawing-room; when a hat upon
a man's head there, would have been looked upon as a sure
mark of a brute or a booby; but of all this I have seen, too,
the reverse—where, in the presence of ladies at a play, com-
mon civility has been set at defiance, and the privilege of
being a rude clown, even to a nuisance, has, in a manner,
been demanded as one of the rights of English liberty."
"Yet, methinks, the liberty of seeing a play in quiet has as
laudable a claim to protection, as the privilege of not suffer-
ing you to do it has to impunity."
Here the question is fairly stated as to the right which the
decent or "polite hearer" has to protection from all annoy-
ance; and that right appears so evident as to need no argu-
ment. The director of the theatre is obliged to afford this
protection to the persons whom he has invited to see and hear
the pieces advertised. The director is bound to exclude any
improper person, known to be such-to prohibit the entrance
of persons known as coming for improper or immoral pur-
poses, and of any person intoxicated, or evincing improper
character by behaviour-and if any such gain admittance, to
employ force to expel them.
Another question is treated of by Cibber,-that of licens-
ing the performances which shall be brought on the stage.
He decides in favour of a licenser, and compares the liberty
of throwing abroad improper maxims or indecent jokes,
to another species of liberty: "I mean that," says he, "of
throwing squibs and crackers at all spectators without dis-
tinction." If he had not added, " on a Lord Mayor's day,"
we should have supposed that the passage was written in
PREFACE.
vii
New York after a 4th of July. The laws for the govern-
ment of the Theatre Français remedy this, and the other evils
attendant on the English and American theatre.
In ages of barbarism, the professors of the fine arts were
under the necessity of becoming the servants of the lords of
the earth, the Nimrods, the mighty hunters and extermina-
tors of men, for protection and bread. They were patron-
ised. The poet, the musician, the painter, and the player,
looked to one ignorant prince or baron for protection from
the injuries threatened by another. Thus the companies of
players were "the King's servants," "the Duke's," "the
Lord Admiral's," or the lord's of the castle, or other strong-
hold.
Brute force lorded it over intellect and the arts, and their
professors were considered servile. Where intellect pre-
dominates, the arts are honoured, and their professors hold
the highest place in public esteem. On the contrary, the
brute of the good old times, and the fool of the improved
modern day, have thought, and would have it thought, that
artists are their inferiors.
As the arts, in the course of progressive civilization, eman-
cipated themselves, like other slaves, at the moment of
acquiring liberty, they were inclined to become licentious;—
thus the poet and the player required legal restraint.
The first licenser we read of for the English drama was Sir
James Hawes, the Lord Mayor of London. The office was
subsequently, in England, filled by the Lord Chamberlain.
The first paid attention particularly to morals, the subse-
quent were occupied principally by politics or the protection
of royalty.
From what has been said of the state of the histrionic art
in the dark ages, and its abasement when it was the slave of
ignorance clothed with power, and when, being partly eman-
cipated, it became mischievous as the encourager of licen-
viii
PREFACE.
tiousness, it will be seen that it has been progressively
improving to the present time; and although occasionally in
some respects retrograding, yet the Drama in its moral cha-
racter is now purer than in any former time since the glories
of Grecian republicanism and literature.
To secure and further this improvement, the laws and
regulations above recommended would be found sufficient in
our republic.
I will here make my acknowledgments to the friends who
have aided me in my Work. The valuable library of the
Historical Society has been open to me, through the polite-
ness of John Delafield, Esq. I have been encouraged and
assisted by James K. Paulding, and John Inman, Esqrs.
The researches of Elias Hicks, Esq. into the early history of
the theatre of our country have been liberally communicated,
and have been of great use to me. Doctors Hosack and
Francis will be seen to have furnished me with valuable mate-
rials. And to William B. Wood, Esq. I owe a particular
expression of gratitude, for indefatigable attention to my in-
quiries, and such prompt answers to my letters as have ena-
bled me to record much valuable matter that must otherwise
have escaped me.
I have made use of the authority of Colley Cibber in this
Preface, and cannot better conclude it than in his words.
“I would fain flatter myself that those who are not too wise
to frequent the theatre (or have wit enough to distinguish
what sort of sights there either do honour or disgrace to it)
may think their national diversion no contemptible subject for
a more able historian than I pretend to be. If I have any
particular qualification for the task more than another, it is
that I am perhaps the only person living (however unworthy)
from whom the same materials can be collected."
CONTENTS
OF
THE FIRST VOLUME.
CHAPTER I.
1752.-Use and Abuse of the Theatre-State of the English Stage from the
year 1741 to 1752—The Hallams-Plan of the Voyage of Discovery and
Adventure by the first Company of Players that crossed the Atlantic—The
Company Occupation at Sea—Arrival at Yorktown-First regular The-
atrical Performance in America-First Play-Prologue for the Occasion
-Singleton's Poems
Page 1
CHAPTER II.
Departure of the Company from Virginia-Annapolis-First Theatre in
New-York — First Theatre in Philadelphia - Death of Hallam, the first
Manager in America—Succeeded by Douglass-Old American Company
in New-York under Douglass-Second Theatre in New-York-Second
and third Theatres in Philadelphia -Third Theatre in New-York-New-
port-Theatrical Expenses and Profits-Customs of the Theatre-Benefit
Bill-Destruction of the third New-York Theatre
CHAPTER III.
19
Theatre in John-Street, New-York-John Henry-Theatre in Albany-New-
York Hospital-Doctor Cooper-First Theatre in Charleston-The four
Misses Storer · Miss Cheer - Congress recommends the closing of Thea-
tres, or rather resolves to discourage extravagance and dissipation, and
names Theatres as among the sources -The resolution communicated by
Peyton Randolph-Wignell arrives—Antiquities
CHAPTER IV.
51
1776. Recollections of New-York during the War of the Revolution-Mili-
tary Thespians at Boston - Burgoyne's second Drama - A Cure for the
Spleen ― Theatre Royal, New-York — Captain Stanley's Prologue — Tra-
gedy of Douglas-Names of the Performers of the British Army-Theatre
in Philadelphia—Advertisement for Ladies-Theatre Closed
78
X
CONTENTS.
1
CHAPTER V.
The American Company received coldly on its Return-Hallam commences
playing first in Philadelphia, then in New-York- Henry, Wignell, and
others, join Hallam — Hamlet first played — Celebrated Players of the
Character-School for Scandal-Poor Soldier-Certificates first Issued—
First Theatre in Baltimore Richmond Hallam and Henry open the
Philadelphia Theatre - Debate in Pennsylvania Legislature Second
Theatre in Charleston
104
CHAPTER VI.
Reflections on the Drama - Plan for its improvement and that of the Pro-
fessors of the Histrionic Art-The Contrast, a Comedy-Prince of Parthia
and Mercenary Match, Tragedies — May-day, Farce― Mrs. Henry and
her Sisters-Harper-Doctors' Mob
CHAPTER VII.
125
Strollers Authorship for the Stage Managers - Dubellamy-Henry—
Hallam-First Comedy accepted and delayed-Second brought out—The
Father of an only Child - Dramatis Persona-Darby's Return-Wash-
ington
145
CHAPTER VIII.
1790.—American Company go to Philadelphia-Widow of Malabar — Col.
Humphreys — John Martin — Season of 1791-2 in New York, the last in
which the old Company remained the sole possessors of the United States—
Ashton-Final separation of Wignell from Hallam and Henry-Henry and
Wignell go to England — Henry brings out Mr. and Mrs. Hodgkinson,
and others—Wignell returns with a great Company, and finds the Yellow
Fever in Philadelphia, where the Chestnut-Street Theatre had been built
for him and Reinagle-Hodgkinson, Mrs. Hodgkinson, King, Prigmore,
West
167
CHAPTER IX.
The Miser's Wedding—The Yellow Fever-Theatrical Dissensions—Arbi-
tration—Mrs. Hatton, a sister of the Kembles-Mrs. Melmoth-Celebra-
tion of the Twenty-fifth of November, 1793 — Mrs. Long-Sir Richard
Crosby-Tammany - Ciceri - Mrs. Pownall Mrs. Wilson-Mr. and
Mrs. Henry's last appearance — He sells out to Hodgkinson and dies
Mrs. Henry's death-Tragedy of Lord Leicester-Literary Clubs 198
-
•
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER X.
xi
Opening of the new Theatre in Philadelphia by Wignell and Reinagle
Mrs. Oldmixon Sir John Oldmixon-Mr. Moreton Mr. Fennell
Mr. and Mrs. Francis-Mr. Green-Mr. Harwood-Mr. Darley-Mr.
John Darley-Mr. Blissett-Mr. and Mrs. Whitlock-Mr. Chalmers-
Mr. and Mrs. Marshall-Mr. Bates-Miss Broadhurst
223
CHAPTER XI.
A
Boston-Law against Stage-plays by the General Court of Massachusetts,
1750--Hallam and Henry petition for leave to open a theatre, and are
refused-Perez Morton's Petition, 1791-Instructions given by the town
of Boston to their Representatives-Committee appointed, who report
against a Theatre - Mr. and Mrs. Morris and Harper go to Boston
Theatre built in Broad Alley-Charles Powell - Plays performed as
Moral Lectures - Players arrested on the Stage-Governor Hancock's
Speech-Law against Theatres repealed—Federal Street Theatre built and
opened-Prologue by Mr. T. Paine-Opposition Prologue
CHAPTER XII.
242
Hallam and Hodgkinson open the New York Theatre, December 1794-
Mr. Benjamin Carr-Mr. and Mrs. Marriott-Mr. Munto-Mr. Nelson
-Mrs. Solomons - Mons. and Madame Gardie - Mrs. Faugeres' Belisa-
rius-Fontainville Abbey-Mr. Fawcet-First plan of the Park Theatre-
Mrs. Hallam withdrawn from the Stage-Hartford-Providence Theatre
-The Friendly Club
260
CHAPTER XIII.
1796-Mr. and Mrs. Johnson-Mr. and Mrs. Tyler-Mr. Jefferson-Mrs.
and Miss Brett-Mr. and Mrs. Cleaveland-Mons. and Madame Val—M.
Francisquy-M. Dubois-Opera of The Archers-Mr. Hogg-A third
Manager added to the partnership of Messrs. Hallam and Hodgkinson,
whose violent quarrels had threatened destruction to the Company-En-
deavours to mediate Williamson of the Haymarket, London - Revived
Quarrels Mrs. Hallam withdrawn, and a new Agreement among the
Directors-Company at Hartford—John D. Miller-Old American Com-
pany open in New-York, 1796 — Mysterious Monk — Arrival of Wignell
with Mrs. Merry, Mr. Cooper, &c. · Godwin Holcroft Edwin and
Angelina-Bourville Castle-John Blair Linn-Doctor Elihu Hubbard
Smith Tell Truth and Shame the Devil - The Comet
The Comet- Mr. Miller-
—
xii
CONTENTS.
Vexations of Theatrical Management-Dialogue with a would-be Actor-
Wignell opens the Philadelphia Theatre, December 5, 1790 — Mrs.
Merry Mr. Cooper
279
CHAPTER XIV.
Letter from T. Holcroft-New Theatre, Park-Boston Theatres-John B.
Williamson-Bunker's Hill, a Tragedy-John Burk-The Hallam Riot
-Hodgkinson hissed off the Stage-Hallam breaks into Jail—The
Author's visit to Philadelphia, May 1797—Convention from the Abolition
Societies-- Doctors Barton, Rush, Griffiths - Bartram the Botanist-
Uriah Tracy-Oliver Wolcot-Joseph Bringhurst-Wm. Cobbett―The
Ancient Day-Natural History-Man of Fortitude-Boston and Charles-
ton Theatres-Names of Performers known at this time in the United
States (1797)--Wignell and Reinagle, and the Philadelphia Company in
Greenwich Street, New York
309
CHAPTER XV.
Solee and Company open in John Street, August 18th, 1797-Mr. Whit-
lock-Wignell and Reinagle's Company in Greenwich Street-Mrs.
Merry-Mr. Cooper-Mr. Bernard-Mr. Warren-Mr. Fox-Mr. and
Mrs. Hardinge Mr. and Mrs. Byrne-Mr. John Joseph Holland . 333
CHAPTER XVI.
Critics-Critiques-Plays, Players, and Playwrights-Remarks of John
Wells, Esq. on altering the titles of English Plays and passing them for
American-A hint to English Dramatists on the same Subject
CHAPTER XVII.
373
Agreement between John Hodgkinson and William Dunlap, on the one
part, and the Committee empowered by the Proprietors of the Park
Theatre, on the other-Re-appearance of Mrs. Hallam on the Stage, June
1797-Agreement with the Proprietors of the Haymarket Theatre, Boston
-Hodgkinson and Company in Boston, July 1797
CHAPTER XVIII.
384
The Orchestra-The Swiss Catholic Priest-The Inquisition-The Victim's
Tale-The Ex-noble-Young, an English musician, executed for murder
-M. Pellesier-Monsieur and Madame Gardie, their Story and Tragical
Death
391
CHAPTER XIX,
Causes of the Decline of the Draına, and Remedies proposed
407
THE
AMERICAN THEATRE.
CHAPTER I.
1752.- Use and Abuse of the Theatre-State of the English Stage
from the year 1741 to 1752-The Hallams-Plan of the Voyage
of Discovery and Adventure by the first Company of Players that
crossed the Atlantic-The Company-Occupation at Sea-Arrival
at Yorktown-First regular Theatrical Performance in America-
First Play-Prologue for the Occasion-Singleton's Poems.
IF the fine arts, as we believe, are effective instru-
ments for promoting the best interests of man—
if the pleasure of the virtuous, as Plato tells us, is
their aim and the test of their success-if their
great sphere and scope is that beau ideal which
lifts us above the grovelling, the vile, and the sen-
sual - it is the duty of every good citizen to en-
courage their cultivation in the country of his birth
or residence, and to cherish the memories of those,
whatever their motives, who introduced them.
The histrionic art is so inseparably connected in
our minds with the Drama, that, in contemplating
VOL. I.
B
2
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
tragedy and comedy, we see Roscius and Garrick,
Talma and Clairon, Kemble and Siddons, Cooper
and Merry, Lewis and Farren, Hodgkinson, More-
ton, Wood, Wignell, Jefferson, Harwood, and the
long list of artists who imbodied in themselves the
spirits of Eschylus and Sophocles, Shakspeare
and Jonson, Racine and Molière, and the hundreds
who have delighted and will continue to delight
millions, by exciting terror and pity, or contempt
for baseness, and admiration of magnanimity.
The professors of the histrionic art become com-
mentators on the works of the poet and living illus-
trations of his ideas. By the magic of this art, the
immortal works of the dramatist are endowed with
a more vivid immortality; and Hamlet, Macbeth,
and Richard, Desdemona, Viola, and Juliet, have
doubly “a local habitation and a name." The pic-
tures of folly, ignorance, or humorous absurdity,
alive in the closet, have a double life on the stage.
Dramatic poetry is one of the first of the fine arts.
The histrionic art, not complete in itself, because
dependent on the poet, is still so important as the
handmaid of poetry, that its history, as a part of
the history of any country, is positively necessary
to the understanding of its literature and its man-
ners. The rise, progress, and cultivation, of the
Drama mark the progress of refinement and the
state of manners at any given period in any country.
Without the aid of the actor, there are thousands
who would never have heard the name of Shak-
speare; but who, by his aid, are familiar with the
2.
THE ENGLISH STAGE.
3
most sublime, moral, and beautiful, sentiments that
ever adorned a language. That there are evils,
and perversions, and abuses, attendant upon the-
atrical exhibitions, as on all sublunary things, no
one is more ready to admit than the writer, and it
shall be his aim to point them out as it is his wish
to remedy them; but he firmly believes that the
theatre is in itself a powerful engine for the improve-
ment of man, and that it only wants the directing
hand of an enlightened society to make it the pure
source of civilization and virtue.
Entertaining these views, it appears to us that
a history of the American theatre is a subject of
importance, as connected with the history of our
literature and manners. Such a history will tend to
mark the growth and improvement of our country,
and may be eminently subservient to the cause of
morals, whether the theatre, as it exists, is so or
not. With this object in view, we shall endeavour
to rescue from oblivion such facts relative to the
Drama in this country as can now be collected, and
to combine them with the knowledge personally
belonging to us, gained by a diversified experience
of many years. The whole would soon, if not thus
recorded, be swept from the memory of man; for
few now live who can assist to throw light on the
early dramatic history of the New World.
Before we embark with the adventurers who in-
troduced the Drama in its living shape among the
English colonists of America, we will look at the
state of the stage in the mother country at that
period.
B 2
4
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
Garrick had reached the summit of fame and
perfection in his arduous profession about the year
1745. He had been rejected by Fleetwood and
Rich, the managers of Drury Lane and Covent
Garden, in 1741; and, after a probation at Ipswich,
he was received and fostered at the theatre in Good-
man's Fields by his friend Giffard, the predecessor,
as proprietor and manager of that place of enter-
tainment, of William Hallam, deservedly called the
father of the American stage.
On the boards of Goodman's Fields theatre,
from which, ten years afterwards, issued the lea-
ders of that company which planted the Drama
in America, the English Roscius first displayed his
unrivalled talents to a London audience, and per-
fected himself in that art which has immortalized
him, embalming his name with that of the far
greater artist and man, who "exhausted worlds
and then imagined new." Let every artist hold in
mind that it was by hard study that Garrick rose
to this height, and established his reputation as a
man and a gentleman, as well as his fame for un-
rivalled skill in his profession as an actor.
In consequence of the success of Garrick, Good-
man's Fields theatre became the centre of attrac-
tion. Drury Lane and Covent Garden were deserted.
At the end of the season of 1742, Fleetwood was
glad to engage both manager and actor. Giffard,
now befriended by Garrick, was invited to Drury
Lane, and Roscius entered upon the scene of his
future triumphs in the brilliant career of fame and
fortune.
THE DRAMA IN 1750.
5
Mr. William Hallam succeeded Giffard at Good-
man's Fields, becoming the proprietor of Garrick's
cradle, rendered famous, but unprofitable, from the
circumstance of having had such a nursling. Drury
Lane flourished, and the successor of Giffard and
Garrick became bankrupt in 1750. This event led
to the voyage of discovery planned by the manager
and executed by his brother Lewis, the father of
that Lewis Hallam who is remembered still as old
Mr. Hallam.
It is well known that the state of the Drama was
in 1750 much more brilliant than it has been for
the last half century, or is now in Great Britain.
The best and greatest men of the country wrote
plays and attended their performance. The pit of
the theatre was the resort of wit and learning;
while fashion, beauty, taste, and refinement, the
proud and exclusive aristocracy of the land, took
their stations in the boxes, surrounding the assem-
blage of poets and critics below. In the course of
our history we may find the causes which have
degraded the Drama, while every other species of
literature and art have been rising in estimation,
and every science progressing to its destined per-
fection.
The William and Lewis Hallam mentioned above
were brothers of Admiral Hallam. There was a
fourth brother, an actor, who was killed accident-
ally in the green-room by the celebrated Charles
Macklin, the original of all the Shylocks from that
time to this, and author of The Man of the World.
6
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
Lewis was a member of his brother William's com-
pany at Goodman's Fields, and sustained the line
of first low comedian. His wife, who was related
to Mr. Rich, the manager of Covent Garden, played
the first line of tragedy and comedy. To have been
the first low comedian, and the first tragic and
comic actress in a company which had to strive
against Covent Garden, and to vie with Drury
Lane, having Garrick as its leader, gives us reason
to believe that Mr. and Mrs. Hallam were far above
mediocrity in their profession; and tradition fully
supports the belief.
As we have said, in the year 1750, William Hal-
lam, the manager of Goodman's Fields, failed. On
winding up his business, his debts proved to be
five thousand pounds, a trifling sum as the amount
of loss in such a complicated and hazardous specu-
lation. The accounts and conduct of Mr. Hallam
were so fair and satisfactory to his creditors that
they presented him with the wardrobe and other
theatrical property of the establishment; thus dis-
charging him from debt, and leaving him in pos-
session of a capital to commence business anew.
Under these circumstances he turned his thoughts
to the New World, and conceived the plan of send-
ing a company of players to the colonies. The
thought proves that William Hallam was no com-
mon man, and his confiding such a scheme to Lewis
is equally in favour of the character of the latter.
Lewis and his wife, having consented to cross
the Atlantic and seek their fortunes in what might
INTRODUCTION OF THE DRAMA IN AMERICA.
7
then not improperly be called the western wilder-
ness, the ex-manager's next step was to find suit-
able persons to fill up the corps dramatique, and to
induce them to join his brother and sister in this
theatrical forlorn hope. He succeeded in enlisting
a good and efficient company, willing to leave their
country (and perhaps their creditors), and fitted
to ensure success to the perilous adventure. The
emigrants were next assembled at the house of Wil-
liam Hallam; a list of stock plays was produced by
him, with attendant farces, and the cast of the whole
agreed upon in full assembly of the body politic:
which appears to have been a well organized
republic, every member of which had his part as-
signed to him, both private and public, behind and
before the curtain. Lewis Hallam was appointed
manager, chief magistrate, or king, and William,
who staid at home, was to be "viceroy over him,'
according to Trinculo's division of offices. The
brothers were to divide profits equally, after de-
ducting the expenses and shares. Thus William
was entitled to half of such profits as projector and
proprietor, and Lewis to the other half as manager
and conductor.
The names of the persons who, under the direc-
tion of the Hallams, introduced the Drama into our
country having been communicated to the writer
by one of the number, he takes pleasure in record-
ing them, and feels that, although under other cir-
cumstances they would be, perhaps, suffered to
float down the tide of time to oblivion, their ad-
8
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
venture and its consequences render them worthy
subjects for the pen of the dramatic historian, and
interesting to all who take an interest in the liter-
ature of our country. Mr. and Mrs. Hallam were
first in consequence and in talents. Mr. Rigby
played the first line in tragedy and comedy, and
was only inferior to the leaders. Mrs. Rigby does
not appear to have had high pretensions. Mr. and
Mrs. Clarkson were of the class called useful. Miss
Palmer, Mr. Singleton, Mr. Herbert, Mr. Winnell,
or Wynel, Mr. Adcock, and Mr. Malone, completed
the company, and filled the dramatis persona of the
plays that were cast at the proprietor's house.
Of the twenty-four plays and their attendant
farces, cast and put in study before leaving Eng-
land, we have the names of the following:-The
Merchant of Venice, The Fair Penitent, The Beaux'
Stratagem, Jane Shore, The Recruiting Officer, King
Richard III, The Careless Husband, The Constant
Couple, Hamlet, Othello, Theodosius (a great fa-
vourite every where, added our informant), Pro-
voked Husband, Tamerlane, The Inconstant, Wo-
man's a Riddle, The Suspicious Husband, The Con-
scious Lovers, George Barnwell, The Committee, and
The Twin Rivals. We cannot record the names
of these twenty plays without interest. They were
doubtless the favourites of the metropolis of Great
Britain at that time, and stood paramount where-
ever the stage spoke the English tongue. How
many of them now hold possession of the scene?
At most, six; and of the six four are Shakspeare's,
FIRST PLAYS AND FARCES IN AMERICA.
9
the only four from his pen in the twenty. All Far-
quhar's comedies, whose dialogue for wit was un-
rivalled but by Shakspeare's, are laid on the shelf,
or occasionally revived at a benefit, cut down to
afterpieces. Colley Cibber's Careless Husband, pro-
nounced by Pope the best comedy in the language,
cannot be tolerated; and even Bishop Hoadley's
Suspicious Husband exhibits licentiousness that we
turn from as unfit for representation. The farces
cast and studied for the common stock were-
Lethe, The Lying Valet, Miss in her Teens, The
Mock Doctor, The Devil to Pay, Hob in the Well,
Damon and Philida, and The Anatomist. In the
last it is recorded that Rigby was so excellent in
the French doctor, that the farce stood first on
the list for popularity and profit. From this we
gather that Mr. Rigby had talents of Hodgkin-
sonian order, as he was the first in tragedy and
genteel comedy, and excellent in farce. Of pan-
tomimes, the company had but one for many years,
which was called Harlequin Collector, or the Miller
Deceived. We will remark of these eight farces
that three were Garrick's, and two of the three are
still played.
Lewis Hallam, junior, known by those who re-
member him by the familiar appellation of old Hal-
lam, (the son of the Lewis Hallam who led these
adventurers as manager and first low comedian),
from whom this account of the adventure and its
origin is derived, was at the time a boy of twelve
years, and at a grammar-school at Cambridge. The
10
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
choice was given him of remaining at his school,
or going with his parents, and he had no hesitation
in preferring the latter. A younger son, Adam,
and a daughter, soon introduced on the stage as
Miss Hallam, made a part of the company of emi-
grants, and eventually of the company of players.
A daughter, still younger, being then six
years
age, was left with her uncle William, and became
afterward famous in dramatic history as Mrs. Mat-
tocks.
of
We have said that the profits of the adventure
were to be equally divided between the original
proprietor and projector and his brother the con-
ductor and manager. These profits were to be the
residue and remainder, after deducting the shares,
for this was what is known among players as a
sharing company or scheme, and so continued until
some time after our revolution. In such schemes
the manager has one or more shares as reward for
the trouble of governing; one or more shares pay
him for the use, wear and tear, of the property;
one or more shares according to his abilities or
reputation as an actor; and he generally avails
himself of the power which rests with him of casting
plays so as to keep up his reputation by appro-
priating the best or most popular parts to himself.
The remaining shares, after the manager is satis-
fied, are divided among the members of the com-
monwealth, according to ability, reputation in the
profession, or the influence obtained by becoming
favourites with the public.
SHARING SCHEME.
11
Hallam's company, under the appellation of the
American Company, in process of time underwent
a change. The principal performers became part-
ners in the property; the number of sharers were
diminished; actors were engaged on weekly sala-
ries; and by degrees the present system was esta-
blished, in which one man, or a company forming
a copartnership, are lessees or proprietors, and the
stage-manager and performers are hired.
It is proper in the early history of the stage in
this country to state many particulars which would
be out of place in a record of the affairs of a more
recent date. As we have the power to lay before
the reader the original proportions in which the
receipts of this first company were divided, with
the shares assigned to each individual, we shall
proceed so to do.
The number of shares was fixed at eighteen. The
number of adult performers was twelve, including
the manager, each being entitled to one share. Mr.
Hallam had another share as manager. Four shares
were assigned to the property, and one share was
allowed for the manager's three children. It is to
be presumed that the four shares assigned for the
property were to be divided between the brothers,
as the profits of the partnership, otherwise it is
hard to say from whence profit was to accrue.
Having despatched these preliminaries, we will
attend this band of adventurers on their voyage of
experiment. Early in the month of May they em-
barked in the Charming Sally, Captain Lee, and
{
12
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
after a voyage of six weeks, a short passage in
those days, arrived safely at Yorktown, Virginia.
How many reflections does the name of this place
suggest! What recollections to the American of
the present day! Yorktown, the scene of that great
drama of real life, or rather the catastrophe of the
military drama, which, in 1780, placed never-dying
laurels on the brow of that man who, sent by Go-
vernor Dinwiddie in 1753, the year after the arrival
of our adventurers, to summon the French posts
on the Ohio to surrender to the arms of England,
is called by the writers of the Universal History
one Major Washington. This Major Washington
very probably witnessed the first representations
of plays in Virginia; and one at least of the same
company of players (the second Lewis Hallam, then
a boy) performed repeatedly before him, when he
was the first magistrate of the greatest republic
the world had ever seen, and the theme of eulogium
to every enlightened or philanthropic statesman
the world possessed.
In 1610, the first effectual colonization of English
America took place. In 1751, Franklin calculated
the English population of the colonies at one mil-
lion. Such was the increase in one hundred and
forty years, and the arts, following in the train of
civilization, already prepared to rear the standard
of taste.
As the first settlers of Virginia were of the esta-
blished English Church, and that form of religion
was supported by law to the exclusion of all others,
QUARTER-DECK REHEARSALS.
13
it is probable that William Hallam was induced
to send his company thither in preference to the
other colonies, from the knowledge that Episcopa-
lians were then more liberal in regard to the Drama
than most other sects, although not less intolerant
in respect to religious creeds or worship than their
Presbyterian brethren, and more so than most other
denominations of Christians.
The foresight exercised by the Hallams in pre-
paring their company for immediate action on their
arrival in America, merits applause. The pieces
had been selected, cast, and put in study, before
embarkation; and during the passage they were re-
gularly rehearsed. The quarter-deck of the Charm-
ing Sally was the stage, and, whenever the winds
and weather permitted, the heroes and heroines of
the sock and buskin performed their allotted parts,
rehearsing all the plays that had been selected, par-
ticularly those fixed upon to form the first thea-
trical exhibition which was to enliven the wilds of
America.
It is easy to imagine the fun which these re-
hearsals, with the drilling of the corps, must have
created among the tars.
the tars. We know the salutary
effect of the admirable plan of that skilful na-
vigator Parry, who, by introducing the amuse-
ments of the theatre, when his ship was locked up
amid the gloom of a half-year's polar night, pre-
served the health of his crew by preserving their
cheerfulness. Sailors are peculiarly alive to dra-
matic representations—in that, as in some other
14
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
points, they resemble children; and the novelty of
having such a set of passengers, with the humour
of many of the pieces rehearsed, must have de-
lighted Jack; while the nautical drollery of the
audience must have been occasionally a source of
equal amusement to the players.
The circumstance of a complete company of
comedians crossing the Atlantic together and re-
gularly drilling during the voyage, each one in his
respective line, must have given a degree of pre-
cision to the first dramatic performances in the
New World, which is found wanting in many thea-
tres, even metropolitan, at this time.
Williamsburg was then the capital of Virginia;
and thither the players proceeded from Yorktown,
the place of their landing. Upon application made
to Governor Dinwiddie, permission was granted to
erect or fit up a building for a theatre*. Hallam
found a building which he judged to be sufficient
for his purpose, and proceeded to metamorphose it
into pit, box, gallery, and stage. It was a long
house in the suburbs of the town, probably erected
as a store-house by the early emigrants; it was
unoccupied, and the manager purchased it. This
was the first theatre opened in America by a com-
pany of regular comedians, and although within
* Burke, in his History of Virginia, says (ch. ii.) that, under the
presidency of Thomas Lee, the New-York company of comedians
obtained permission to erect a theatre in Williamsburg, i. e. in the
year 1750, when no New-York company existed, or any other on the
continent. Governor Dinwiddie arrived in 1752.
FIRST PLAY AND FARCE.
15
the boundaries of the metropolis of the Ancient
Dominion, the seat of William and Mary College,
and the residence of all the officers of his majesty's
government, was so near the woods that the mana-
ger could stand within the door and shoot pigeons
for his dinner, which he more than once actually
did. This theatre was situated on the spot occu-
pied now by the house of the late Judge Tucker.
After its destruction by fire, another was erected
below the old Capitol. The reader will observe
that the proprietors of this enterprise had not in-
cluded an orchestra in the plan of their establish-
ment; but fortunately a professor of music had
been before them as a pioneer of the fine arts, and
Mr. Pelham, who taught the harpsichord in the
town, was engaged with his instrument to repre-
sent that splendid assemblage of wind and stringed
instruments which we now look for in an orchestra.
On the fifth of September, 1752, at Williams-
burg, the capital of Virginia, the first play per-
formed in America by a regular company of come-
dians was represented to a delighted audience.
The piece was The Merchant of Venice, and it was
followed by the farce of Lethe. Thus Shakspeare
had the first place in time as in merit as the drama-
tist of the western world, and Garrick the honour
of attending upon his master. Lethe was at that
time new even in London, and a popular afterpiece.
The cast of the first play and farce represented in
America is worth recording, and shows the strength
of the company and the various lines of the per-
16
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
formers, who are all included in the following bill,
except Mrs. Clarkson, Mrs. Rigby, and Adam Hal-
lam, a child.
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE.
Bassanio,
Mr. Rigby.
Antonio,
Gratiano,
Clarkson.
Singleton.
Salanio and Duke,
Herbert.
Salarino and Gobbo,
Winnel.
Launcelot and Tubal,
Hallam.
Shylock,
Malone.
Servant to Portia,
Master Lewis Hallam,
(being his first appearance on any stage).
Nerissa,
Miss Palmer.
Jessica, (her first appearance on any stage)
Hallam.
Portia,
Mrs. Hallam,
Esop,
Old Man,
Fine Gentleman,
Frenchman,
Charon,
Mercury,
LETHE.
Mr. Clarkson.
Malone.
Drunken Man and Tattoo,
John,
Mrs. Tattoo,
Fine Lady,
Singleton.
Rigby.
Herbert.
Adcock.
Hallam.
Winnel.
Miss Palmer.
Mrs. Hallam.
The Tailor was cut out, and Lord Chalkstone was
not in being when the company left home. He was
an after-thought of the author's.
It will be observed by the above bill that the first
night of performing in America was the first night
of appearance on any stage of Lewis Hallam the
second. He had one line to speak, apparently an
FIRST PROLOGUE WRITTEN IN AMERICA. 17
easy
task, but when he found himself in presence of
the audience he was panic-struck. He stood mo-
tionless and speechless, until, bursting into tears,
he walked off the stage, making a most inglorious
exit. We need not say that he was the hero and
favourite in tragedy and comedy for nearly half a
century.
This night's performance is rendered the more
memorable, as it gave occasion for the first compo-
sition connected with the drama which was written
for, or addressed particularly to, an American
audience—a prologue especially composed for the
purpose, probably on ship-board, by Mr. Singleton.
It was spoken by Mr. Rigby. These lines were
written down as recited at the request of the author
by Lewis Hallam the second, forty years after their
debut. Mr. Hallam seemed to remember every
transaction of that period, every circumstance at-
tending these first histrionic adventures, as though
they were of yesterday. We think lines brought
forward under such auspices are worthy of record,
and accordingly give them.
To this New World, from famed Britannia's shore,
Through boist❜rous seas where foaming billows roar,
The Muse, who Britons charm'd for many an age,
Now sends her servants forth to tread your stage;
Britain's own race, though far removed, to shew
Patterns of every virtue they should know.
Though gloomy minds through ignorance may rail,
Yet bold examples strike where languid precepts fail.
The world's a stage where mankind act their parts;
The stage a world to show their various arts;
C
18
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
While the soul, touch'd by Nature's tenderest laws,
Has all her passions rous'd in virtue's cause.
Reason we hear, and coolly may approve,
But all's inactive till the passions move.
Such is the human mind, so weak, so frail,
"Reason 's her chart, but Passion is her gale."
Then raise the gale to waft fair Virtue o'er
The sea of life where Reason points the shore.
But, ah! let Reason guide the course along,
Lest Passion, listening to some siren's song,
Rush on the rocks of Vice, where all is lost,
And shipwreck'd Virtue renders up the ghost.
Too oft, we own, the stage, with dangerous art,
In wanton scenes has play'd the siren's part:
Yet if the Muse, unfaithful to her trust,
Has sometimes stray'd from what is pure and just,
Has she not oft, with awful, virtuous rage,
Struck home at vice, and nobly trod the stage?
Made tyrants weep, the conscious murderer stand,
And drop the dagger from his trembling hand?
Then, as you treat a favourite fair's mistake,
Pray spare her foibles for her virtue's sake;
And while her chastest scenes are made appear,
(For none but such will find admittance here)
The Muse's friends, we hope, will join our cause,
And crown our best endeavours with applause.
Mr. Singleton afterwards published a volume of
poems; the principal or longest was descriptive, or
intended so to be, of the West India islands.
CHAPTER II.
Old
Departure of the Company from Virginia-Annapolis-First Theatre
in New-York-First Theatre in Philadelphia-Death of Hallam,
the first Manager in America Succeeded by Douglass
American Company in New-York under Douglass-Second Theatre
in New-York-Second and third Theatres in Philadelphia-Third
Theatre in New-York-Newport-Theatrical Expenses and Pro-
fits Customs of the Theatre Benefit Bill - Destruction of
the third New-York Theatre.
THE precise date at which the comedians left Wil-
liamsburg is not mentioned in the memoranda
taken from the dictation of Lewis Hallam the
second. At their departure Governor Dinwiddie
gave the manager a certificate signed in council,
recommending the company as comedians, and
testifying to the propriety of their behaviour as
men.
It would answer no useful end to follow the
Thespians in their manifold wanderings; but a
notice of the time and manner of introducing the
theatre into our principal cities, and some of the
changes which occurred in the company, shall be
recorded as far as information can be now ob-
tained.
A writer in the Maryland Gazette, under date
of June 19th, 1828, claims for Annapolis the first
theatre, in point of time, erected in the United
States. He says, "In the year 1752, it appears,
from the files of the Maryland Gazette, that plays
c 2
20
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
were performed in what is there called the new
theatre-so called, I presume, in contradistinction
to the temporary theatres previously used, which
I am told were such commercial warehouses as
could be gotten, and substituted for the purpose*.”
This writer gives the following advertisement:
By permission of his Honour the President. At the new theatre
in Annapolis, by the company of comedians, on Monday next, being
the 13th of this instant July, 1752, will be performed a comedy
called The Beaux' Stratagem. Likewise a farce called The Virgin
Unmasked. To begin precisely at 7 o'clock. Tickets to be had at
the printing-office. Box 10 shillings, pit 7 and 6 pence, gallery 5
shillings. No person to be admitted behind the scenes.
The writer in question says, "the names of the
company, as no dramatis persone are given, I
am unable to ascertain. In the advertisement of
Richard the III., which was acted twice, the cha-
racter of Richard was performed by a Mr. Wynell,
and that of Richmond by a Mr. Herbert.
another play the name of Mr. Eyarson is men-
tioned."
In
In the first chapter, the account given by Lewis
Hallam, the son of the manager, is followed. He
was then twelve years of age. It appears that the
company arrived at Yorktown in June, as the pas-
sage was six weeks, and they sailed early in May.
From his account they did not play at Williams-
burg until the 5th of September, which leaves
ample time for Winnel (Wynell) and Herbert to
* Probably used by boys or young men to enact plays after their
fashion, as was the case, and will be the case everywhere.
FIRST THEATRE BUILT IN AMERICA.
21
have gone to Annapolis, and to have performed
with a Mr. Eyarson, who as we have seen was not
one of William Hallam's company, and others who
had associated for the purpose of performing plays.
Winnel and Herbert were inferiors in Hallam's
company, and their performing the parts of Richard
and Richmond accords with this supposition.
The writer in the Maryland Gazette goes on to
say, that "The theatre (in Annapolis) which in
1752 is called the new theatre, was a neat brick
building, tastefully arranged, and competent to
contain between five and six hundred persons. It
was built upon ground which had been leased from
the Protestant Episcopal church in this city. When
the lease, about ten or twelve years ago, had ex-
pired, the church took possession of the theatre.
It was sold. It was pulled down merely to pro-
cure the materials of which it was built. Scarcely
a fragment of it now remains. It was the oldest
theatre in the United States. It was the earliest
temple reared in our country to the dramatic
Muse. Perhaps it was the first spot upon which
the characters of Shakspeare were exhibited to
the people of the western world. It would here-
after have become an object at which the citizens
of this ancient metropolis would have pointed with
pride, which the curious would have sought, and
which the admirers of genius and the drama would
have revered."
Such is the claim put in by the citizen of Anna-
polis. That the whole of Hallam's company were
22
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
not there is proved by the silence of his son Lewis,
and by the circumstance of two inferior performers
playing the first parts. Winnel and Herbert we
find at Williamsburg in September, playing in
their subordinate stations.
The claim for Annapolis of having erected the
first theatre, the first temple to the dramatic Muse,
appears fully made out, notwithstanding the second
Lewis Hallam's statement as given above; and yet
that this circumstance should have escaped him,
who played in Annapolis again and again, in his
father's company probably, in Douglass's certainly,
in 1772, and afterwards, when the company was
under the firm of Hallam and Henry, appears very
unaccountable.
The third stage on which the productions of the
dramatic Muse were exhibited to the inhabitants
of the New World was in Nassau Street, New-
York. A theatre was erected on the spot long
since occupied by the old Dutch church. This
was the second building expressly erected for the
purpose of dramatic exhibitions in America. We
have seen that the first appearance of the histrionic
artists was at Williamsburg, Virginia, in a house
which had been previously occupied for other pur-
poses, probably as a store-house. Annapolis has
the honour of having raised the first temple to the
Muses, and thither the company, led by Lewis Hal-
lam, proceeded from Williamsburg, and, after per-
forming their stock plays and farces, visited and
performed at Upper Marlborough, Piscataway,
FIRST THEATRE IN NEW-YORK.
23
and Port Tobacco, then places of wealth and con-
sequence in Maryland. Hallam opened his theatre
in Nassau Street, New-York, on the 17th of Sep-
tember, 1753, one year after the first dramatic re-
presentation at Williamsburg.
It has been remarked that the south, from the
universally admitted character of its population,
was best fitted for the reception of the Drama. The
Presbyterians of the New-England provinces were
opposed to any innovations upon their ascetic
habits, and particularly to the introduction of
those "profane stage-plays" which had been the
delight of the Jacobite cavaliers, the enemies of
their forefathers. New-York, originally a Dutch
province, retained much of the language and man-
ners of that people, and could only be considered
as a resort after the southern provinces. The
Quakers of Philadelphia were of all people the
most opposed to scenic representations; and that
population which, by its influx and increase, has
changed the city of Penn from its drab-coloured
austerity to the bland and polished amenity of the
many-coloured receptacles of literature and fine
arts, was then in its incipient state. It was there-
fore wisely, as we have seen, that William Hallam,
the manager of the London theatre in which Gar-
rick attained to fame, directed his brother Lewis
to the genial south, and Virginia and Maryland
received the adventurers with a joyous welcome.
After the south, New-York presented the fairest
field for the efforts of the comedians, and they
24
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
opened their theatre with the following bill, which
is given as an historic document. Particularity of
this kind would be unnecessary in regard to events
of more recent date, and out of place in a history
of the theatre; but in this early stage of the work
before us, we think a play-bill a valuable source
of information, and gladly insert it.
By his Excellency's authority.
By a Company of Comedians from London, at the New Theatre in
Nassau Street, the present evening, being the 17th of September,
(1753), will be presented a comedy called
THE CONSCIOUS LOVERS.
The part of Young Bevil to be performed by Mr. Rigby.
The part of Mr. Sealand to be performed by Mr. Malone:
Sir John Bevil
Myrtle
Climberton
Humphrey
Daniel
by Mr. Bell.
by Mr. Clarkson.
by Mr. Miller.
by Mr. Adcock.
by Master L. Hallam.
The part of Tom to be performed by Mr. Singleton.
The part of Phillis to be performed by Mrs. Becceley.
Mrs. Sealand
Lucinda
Isabella
by Mrs. Clarkson.
by Miss Hallam.
by Mrs. Rigby.
And the part of Indiana to be performed by Mrs. Hallam.
To which will be added the Ballad Farce called
DAMON AND PHILLIDA.
Arcas
by Mr. Bell.
Ogon
by Mr. Rigby.
Korydon
by Mr. Clarkson.
Cymon
Damon
by Mr. Miller.
by Mr. Adcock.
by Mrs. Becceley.
Philida
A new occasional prologue to be spoken by Mr. Rigby.
An epilogue (addressed to the ladies) by Mrs. Hallam.
ADDITIONS TO THE COMPANY.
25
Prices, box 8s. pit 6s. gallery 3s. No person whatever to be ad-
mitted behind the scenes. N. B. Gentlemen and ladies that choose
tickets may have them at the new printing-office in Beaver Street*.
To begin at 6 o'clock.
The days of performance were Mondays, Wed-
nesdays, and Fridays; and so continued for half
a century. On the second night of performing the
prices were announced as box 6s. pit 5s. gallery
3s.; and, towards the middle of October, the pit
and gallery were reduced to 4s. and 2s.
It will be seen by the above bill that Sir Richard
Steele was the first dramatist presented to the in-
habitants of New-York. The Conscious Lovers is
worthy of one of the authors of the Spectator, the
coadjutor of Addison.
It appears that an accession had been made to
the company. The names of Mr. Bell, Mr. Miller,
and Mrs. Becceley, are not in the list of adventurers
who embarked in the Charming Sally, Captain Lee.
Besides these three performers, Mr. and Mrs. Love
now made part of the company, and Mr. Hewlet.
The latter was an apprentice to William Hallam
of Goodman's Fields, and was sent out to the com-
pany as a dancer and violin-player. He was for
many years the only dancing-master in New-York,
and some of us old fellows remember the lessons
and the steps taught by this worthy man, whose
sons were the teachers of succeeding generations,
and live in the memories of the middle-aged of
New-York.
* This was the office of the Gazette, printed by Parker and Weyman.
1
•
26
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
On the 20th November the following curious
note appeared on the play bills. "N. B. Gentle-
men and ladies that intend to favour us with their
company are desired to come by six o'clock, (we)
being determined to keep to our hour; as it would
be a great inconvenience to them to be kept out
late, and a means to prevent disappointment." And
on the 20th of December the bills gave notice that
"nothing under the full price would be taken
during the whole performance." It might be in-
ferred from this notice that half price had been
received heretofore; or it may have been intended
to prevent the disappointment of those who had
been accustomed to admittance in London at half
price after the third act.
The early history of our drama brings us in con-
tact with the antiquities of our country, particu-
larly of our cities, and we shall take occasion to
describe their boundaries and point out their pro-
gressive extent and improvements as far as we
may do so, without abandoning that branch of
history assigned to us, or, as lawyers say, "tra-
velling out of the record."
The theatre in Nassau Street was closed on the
18th of March, 1754, with The Beggar's Opera and
Devil to Pay. The company had given one night's
performance to the poor. The play was Love for
Love, played to a full house with applause. The
benefits commenced the latter part of January,
1754, and ended the 18th of March; after which
appeared the following notice:-"Lewis Hallam,
THE THESPIANS INVITED TO PHILADELPHIA.
27
comedian, intending for Philadelphia, begs the
favour of those that have any demands upon him
to bring in their accounts and receive their money."
Taking it for granted that we can hardly be too
particular in this part of our work, and that every
thing connected with the introduction of the Drama
into our country has become interesting in pro-
portion as the traces of this commencement and
early progress become dim and indistinct, we will
give Mr. Hallam's account of the negociation of
his father with the authorities and citizens of Phila-
delphia for permission to enact plays in their city.
Already had the religious toleration wisely and
benevolently established by William Penn peopled
his city with inhabitants of every sect and deno-
mination. While Presbyterianism was intolerant
and exclusive in the east, and Episcopacy in the
south, Penn and Baltimore, the Quaker and the
Roman Catholic, had opened Pennsylvania and
Maryland as lands of refuge for liberty of con-
science. The consequence was that the plain
quaker colour made only a part of the garb of
the citizens of Philadelphia even at this early
period; but still drab was the livery of the majo-
rity. A large portion of the inhabitants, however,
saw no offence to morality or religion in any of
the colours which diversify and beautify the works
of creation; or any of those innocent amusements
which bring men together to sympathize in joys or
sorrows, uniting them in the same feelings and ex-
pressions, with a brotherly consciousness of the
28
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
same nature and origin. Many, also, had been
accustomed to the representations of the drama-
tists in their native land, and longed to renew the
associations of their youth. Others, who had only
read the works of Shakspeare, were anxious to ex-
perience the influence of the living personification
of those thoughts and characters which had de-
lighted them in the closet, and looked towards the
sister and then secondary city of New-York with a
strong desire to participate in her pleasures and
advantages. These causes produced an applica-
tion to the manager while the company were play-
ing at New-York. Several gentlemen from Phila-
delphia urged Mr. Hallam to apply to Governor
Hamilton for permission to open a theatre in that
city, and pledged themselves for the success not-
withstanding any opposition from the followers of
Penn. They suggested that it would be best to
make application for liberty to play for a few
nights.
Hallam received these overtures with pleasure,
and looked around upon his companions for a man
fitted for the task of opening the way to so desir-
able an acquisition as this hitherto hostile city
would be to the cause of the Muse. Such a pioneer
and negociator needed address and talents, and we
must suppose that Mr. Malone had evinced powers
of persuasion, and possessed engaging manners or
accomplishments superior to most of his fellows, as
he was selected by the manager for the important
and difficult mission.
MALONE'S EMBASSY.
29
The nature of the reward offered to induce
Malone to undertake this long journey, and trust
himself, face to face, with these broad-brimmed,
brown-wigged Quakers in their own stronghold,
lets us into some of the secrets of the green-room.
"He undertook the business," says our informant,
"on condition that, if successful, he should have
for his reward the parts of Falstaff in Henry the
Fourth and The Merry Wives, and of Don Lewis
in Love makes a Man, or the Fop's Fortune.
At that period, and long since, the parts in which
an actor was cast, if the manager's decree was con-
firmed by the public, became his inalienable pro-
perty while in the company; and ofttimes the pro-
prietor continued to figure as a youthful hero or
lover long after all nature's qualifications for the
parts had become the prey of time, the despoiler,
and the wrinkles of age, and the cracked voice
changed to "childish treble," should have con-
signed him to the representation of the lean and
slippered pantaloon.
The tenacity of players is sometimes the subject
of ridicule, and sometimes of surprise or wonder;
but this will cease when we consider that the con-
sequence or standing of the individual is estimated
by the parts he plays, and that the good part
marks and sometimes makes the good actor. We
must also remember, that the salary, the share,
and the benefit, may be measured by the cast of
parts.
+
30
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
Malone willingly undertook the embassy, with
the hope of attaining this brilliant accession to his
theatrical property, but he experienced such a
strenuous opposition, and found the strife with
these disciples of peace so perilous, that he wrote
for the manager to come to his assistance. The
cry was "Hallam to the rescue!" The manager
flew, as fast as mortals could then fly, to the as-
sistance of his emissary. The relief was effectual,
for "the king's name is a tower of strength," or
was in those good old times. The manager found
the city of brotherly love and passive peace divided
into two hostile factions, as violent as the green
and red of Constantinople, when charioteers shook
the empire of the Cæsars to its foundation. Here
it was not one colour against its opposite, but co-
lours against colourless-the rainbow struggling
through a cloud.
The Quakers and their adherents carried a peti-
tion to the governor for the prohibition of profane
stage-plays. Counter-petitions were signed and
presented, and finally the friends of action and
passion prevailed, and the manager was favoured
by Governor Hamilton with a permission to open
a theatre, and cause twenty-four plays, with their
attendant afterpieces, to be performed, on condition
that they "offered nothing indecent and immoral,"
and performed one night for the benefit of the poor
of the city-and further, that the manager gave
security for all debts contracted, and all contracts
FIRST THEATRE IN PHILADELPHIA.
31
entered into by the company. How characteristic
is all this of the time!
Such was the treaty by which the first histrionic
adventurers gained a narrow and precarious footing
in a new region which seemed forbidden ground.
Once within the walls, they extended the boundaries
of their conquest, not without opposition, until the
whole city submitted to the invaders, who, by de-
grees, like the Tartar invaders of the Celestial
empire, have become one and the same with the
people they had conquered—not that the players
became Quakers, but peaceable and good citizens,
no longer living on sufferance, or obliged to give
bonds for their good behaviour.
All this had occurred previously to the 18th of
March, 1754, and a place been secured for the re-
presentation of plays in Philadelphia. Accordingly,
the players proceeded thither, and commenced
theatrical exhibitions. This was the first theatre
opened in the capital of Pennsylvania by artists
or actors by profession. As early as 1749, it is on
record that the magistracy of the city had been
disturbed by some idle young men perpetrating
the murder of sundry plays in the skirts of the
town, but the culprits had been arrested and bound
over to their good behaviour, after confessing their
crime, and promising to spare the poor poets for
the future.
The first regular company of comedians opened
their theatre, the store-house of Mr. William Plum-
stead, at the corner of the first alley above Pine
:
32
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
Street, and commenced playing in April, 1754, with
the tragedy of The Fair Penitent. The place has
since been occupied as a sail-loft, and the remains
or traces of scenic decoration were to be seen
within forty years. This was called the new the-
atre. The word "new" seems to have applied to
all the places or buildings used by this company,
although there had been no previous establishment
of the kind. The prices of admittance were, box
6s.; pit 4s.; gallery 2s. 6d.
The company gained money and reputation, not-
withstanding a continued and vigorous opposition.
Pamphlets were published and distributed gratis
during the whole theatrical campaign, and every
effort made to show the evils attendant upon plays,
and players, and play-houses; but Shakspeare and
his followers prevailed. The tree was planted, and
could not be rooted out. The effort of the wise
should be to improve its fruit by cultivation, trim-
ming, and grafting.
The Fair Penitent and Miss in her Teens were the
first dramatic pieces presented to the inhabitants
of Philadelphia; Nicholas Rowe and David Gar-
rick, the first dramatists who spoke from the stage
in the city of Penn. The tragedy was thus cast:-
Mr. Malone.
Rigby.
Singleton.
Clarkson.
Sciotto,
Horatio,
Lothario,
Altamont,
Calista,
Lavinia,
Adcock.
Lucetta,
Miss Hallam.
Mrs. Hallam.
DAVID DOUGLASS.
33
The house was, as might be expected from the
excitement, full to overflowing. In the course of
the evening a great tumult was occasioned by the
discovery of one of the unfriendly petitioners in
the pit.
He was considered as a spy, and peace
was not restored until he was hustled out.
The governor added six nights to the twenty-
four first granted to the players. Thus they held
possession of the town until July, as their thirty
nights, three in each week, occupied ten weeks.
In addition to the pleasure of success, the Thes-
pians were gladdened by a visit from William Hal-
lam, the father of the American stage, the original
projector of this prosperous scheme. He landed
in June, 1754. There is reason to believe that
Lewis purchased all the property, interest, and
good-will, from his brother William the original
owner, as he returned to England immediately after
a settlement of their accounts, and we hear no more
of him.
Lewis, now not only manager, but sole proprie-
tor, transported his company to the West Indies,
and, dying in Jamaica, his widow married David
Douglass, and placed him on the theatrical throne
of the western hemisphere.
During the absence of the company in the West
Indies, the theatre in Nassau Street, New-York,
was taken down, and Douglass procured a build-
ing more accordant to his views to be erected for
the reception of his company when they should re-
turn to that city. This building, the third theatre
VOL. I.
D
D
34
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
erected in the United States, was on Cruger's wharf,
between what are now called Old-slip and Coffee-
house-slip. At that time the south-east side of
Water Street was unbuilt, and the spot on which
it stands was occupied by the tide-water. "Cruger's
wharf" was the name given to a projecting block
of buildings to the east of" Little Dock Street,"
bounded by the water, and having the water on
each side, in what were called docks.
Douglass had built his theatre without obtaining
permission from the magistracy to enact plays.
This was a sad mistake, and no doubt offended dig-
nity had determined before his arrival to punish him
for neglecting those "boos" which the patron exacts
from the patronized. The manager was made sen-
sible of his neglect immediately upon his arrival in
the autumn of 1758, for it would appear that until
this time the Thespians were roving among the
West India islands. On application for permission
to perform plays, the "gentlemen in power" re-
fused it.
Douglass made an appeal to the public in Gaine's
Mercury of November 6th, stating that he had, "to
his great mortification, met with a positive and
absolute denial" when he "applied to the gentlemen
in power for permission to play." He goes on to
say that "he has in vain represented that such are
his circumstances and those of the other members
of the company, that it is impossible for them to
move to another place; and, although in the hum-
blest manner he begged the magistrates would in-
DOUGLASS'S HISTRIONIC ACADEMY.
35
dulge him in acting as many plays as would barely
defray the expences he and the company have been
at in coming to this city, and enable them to pro-
ceed to another, he has been unfortunate enough
to be peremptorily refused it. As he has given
over all thoughts of acting, he begs leave to inform
the public, that in a few days he will open a HIS-
TRIONIC ACADEMY, of which notice will be given in
this paper."
This was considered as an attempt to evade,
or resist, the prohibition of the magistrates, and
on the 8th of December Douglass found it neces-
sary to deny all such intention, and concludes his
apology thus: "The expense of our coming here,
our living since our arrival, the charge of building,
&c. amount to a sum that would swallow up the
profits of a great many nights' acting, had we per-
mission. I shall conclude with humbly hoping that
those gentlemen who have entertained an ill opinion
of me from my supposed presumption will do me
the favour to believe that I have truly explained
the advertisement, and that I am to them and the
public a very humble and devoted servant." His
explanation of his Histrionic Academy was, that
he "proposed to deliver dissertations on subjects
moral, instructive, and entertaining, and to endea-
vour to qualify such as would favour him with at-
tendance to speak in public with propriety."
This man appears to have been by descent and
education a gentleman. He afterward filled the
office of one of his majesty's judges. He had failed
D 2
36
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
to bow the knee to power even before he had ap-
proached within its bounds, and he was thus made
to lick the dust before a gracious permission was
granted, to enlighten his judges, their satellites,
and the people entrusted to their care, by the reci-
tation of the pride of English poetry and wit.
Permission was at length obtained to perform
thirteen nights, and the second theatre in New-
York was opened with Jane Shore. Singleton's
prologue was spoken by the second Lewis Hallam,
then eighteen years of age; and an epilogue, writ-
ten probably by Mr. Singleton, was delivered by
Mrs. Douglass, Hallam's mother.
The epilogue, as marking the opposition which
the theatre now had to sustain, and the degree of
ability with which that opposition was met, and
likewise the improvement of poet Singleton by his
transplantation, shall be inserted here.
Much has been said, at this censorious time,
To prove the treading of the stage a crime.
Mistaken zeal, in terms not quite so civil,
Consigns both plays and players to the devil.
Yet wise men own a play well chose may teach
Such useful moral truths as churchmen preach ;
May teach the heart another's grief to know,
And melt the soul to salutary wo.
So when the unhappy virtuous fair complains
In Shakspeare's, Lee's, or Otway's, moving strains,
The narrowest hearts expanded wide appear,
And soft Compassion drops the pitying tear.
Or would you warn the thoughtless youth to shun
Such dangerous arts as numbers have undone,
A Barnwell's fate can never fail to move,
And strike with shame and terror lawless love.
FIRST EPILOGUE WRITTEN IN AMERICA.
See, plunged in ruin, with a virtuous wife,
The Gamester weeps, despairs, and ends his life.
When Cato bleeds, he spends his latest breath,
To teach the love of country, strong in death.
With these examples and a thousand more,
Of godlike men who lived in times of yore,
The tragic Muse recalls this long-past age,
And brings heroic virtue, living, on the stage.
But when, to social gaiety inclined,
The comic Muse shall feast the cheerful mind,
Fools of all sorts, and fops a brainless crew,
To raise your mirth, we'll summon to your view;
Make e'en the coxcomb laugh to see his brother,
And one knave blush with shame to see another:
'Tis magic ground we tread, and at our call
Those sprites appear that represent you all.
methinks I hear some snarler cry:
Yet hold
why
Pray madam, why so partial-rat me
Don't you do justice on your own sweet sex?
Are there no prudes, coquettes, or jilts to vex?”
Granted - there are. For folly 's not confined
To sex, it sways despotic all of human kind.
We frankly own—indeed we may as well
For every fluttering beau we find a simpering belle.
But oft, above the pert, the dull, the vain,
The comic Muse exalts her moral strain;
To laugh at folly will not be confined,
But tries to mend as well as please mankind.
So when vile custom by false honour's breath
For one rash word would doom two friends to death,
Steele's moral Muse the impressive lesson shows,
Teaching the unhallow'd tyrant's will t' oppose;
Showing a Bevil, generous as brave,
Too wise to be insensate custom's slave,
Above the fear of death, but not above
The law of God, prescribing peace and love.
Thus human life's our theme — a fruitful field,
Of moral themes a plenteous store to yield -
Sages upheld our art in ancient time,
And to paint nature was not thought a crime;
For if the soul in virtue's cause we move,
The friends of virtue cannot disapprove
37
38
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
.
We trust they do not, by the splendid sight
Of sparkling eyes that grace our scenes to-night.
Then bravely dare to assert the taste you've shown,
Nor be ashamed so just a cause to own;
And tell our foes, what Shakspeare said of old
(Our former motto spoke it, I am told),
That here the world in miniature you see,
And all mankind are players as well as we.
The "former motto" alluded to was "Totus
Mundus aget Histrionem." Some one has para-
phrased Shakspeare thus:-
Yes, all the world's a stage, and full of cares,
And all mankind poor strutting, fretting players."
In the year 1759, David Douglass opened the se-
cond theatre in Philadelphia. It was situated at
the south-west corner of Vernon and South Street,
at a place formerly called "Society Hill."
Strictly speaking, this was the first theatre
opened in Philadelphia or its suburbs, unless we
call every place a theatre which is fitted up for the
temporary exhibition of plays. This was, however,
the first building erected as a theatre. The mana-
ger had cautiously taken his stand without the
precincts of the city authorities, in what is called
the Southern Liberties, but this did not prevent
the revival of the civil strife of 1754. The Quakers
and others arrayed themselves in opposition, and
applied to Judge Allen (probably because the place
was within the peculiar limits assigned to his rule,
with denunciations of the players, and petitions
that his power might be exerted for the putting
SECOND THEATRE IN PHILADELPHIA.
39
down of these intruders, these disturbers of the
sleepy quiet of the formal city. The judge gave
them an answer which must have been very un-
palatable. Watson says he rejected the petition,
and among other matter told the petitioners that
❝he had learned more moral virtue from plays than
from sermons." What was the consequence? The
playhouse was opened, and the wife of the judge
fell sick and died. Such is the warning which tra-
dition has handed down to us that wives may here-
after prevent their husbands giving countenance
to theatres.
It is probable that Douglass, profiting by ex-
perience, had applied to Allen, and obtained his
permission before he ventured to erect a theatre,
thus avoiding the prohibition which had troubled
him at New-York.
This temple of the dramatic Muse was, as may be
supposed, an ordinary wooden building, and was
afterward converted into three dwelling-houses,
which are still standing at the corner of Vernon
and South Street. The inhabitants of Philadelphia
remember Mr. and Mrs. Douglass, Miss Cheer, and
Miss Morris, as the most prominent performers of
that day.
The easternmost boundary of the theatrical em-
pire at this time was Newport, Rhode Island, where
the next theatre was built. From Williamsburg
to Newport the company ranged, occasionally play-
ing besides at the cities of Annapolis, Philadelphia,
and New-York, and in smaller places, where a
40
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
courthouse could be transformed to a playhouse,
and scenes of imaginary heroic guilt be allowed to
take the place of vulgar plebeian crime.
Perth Amboy, then the capital of the province
of New-Jersey, and the residence of his majesty's
governors, judges, treasurers, attorney-generals,
and collectors, with a garrison usually of a regi-
ment of foot, occasionally received the visits of the
Thespians, and the writer has heard old ladies
speak, almost in raptures, of the beauty and grace
of Mrs. Douglass, and the pathos of her persona-
tion of Jane Shore.
In 1759 and long after, Newport, Williamsburg,
Annapolis, and Perth Amboy, were places of com-
parative importance, now sunk into little more than
villages, while neighbouring towns have sprung up,
towering above them and overshadowing them, pro-
ducing a sickly existence or absolute decay. A de-
scription of the first has been elegantly and truly
given by the American novelist, James Fenimore
Cooper, in his Red Rover - the health-inspiring
garden of the north, where the southern planters,
from the West Indies and the Carolinas, met in the
great slave-market of the English provinces.
The Thespians did not visit New-York from 1759
to 1761, but, in the year 1760, Douglass built a
larger theatre in Philadelphia, and, after giving a
benefit at Society Hill for the college of the city,
"for improving youth in the divine art of psal-
mody and church music," he opened the theatre in
Southwark, which remained the only theatre of the
NEW THEATRE IN NEW-YORK.
41
metropolis of Pennsylvania, until the building of
the beautiful house in Chestnut Street, erected for
Wignell and Reinagle in 1791, of which hereafter.
The house erected in 1760 was of sufficient size
for the population at that time and long afterwards,
and well adapted for theatrical representations. It
was principally of wood, and painted red, without
external decoration, and in its appearance no orna-
ment to the city. It was partly burnt some years
ago, and is now used as a distillery. Once pouring
out a mingled strain of good and evil, it now dis-
penses purely evil. Yet distillers are not stigma-
tized in society.
This place was used for the exhibition of players,
though not the performance of plays, as late as
August, 1800, when Messrs. Hodgkinson and Bar-
rett opened it with portions of plays, recitations,
and music, for two nights.
In the beginning of August, 1761, "his honour
the lieutenant-governor was pleased to give Mr.
Douglass permission to build a theatre to perform
in the ensuing winter," in the city of New-York.
We lose sight of the theatre on Cruger's wharf,
and a new house in Beekman Street was erected,
and ready for opening on the 18th of November,
on which night Rowe's Fair Penitent and Garrick's
Lethe were performed. This, the third theatre
erected in New-York, was situated a little below
the junction of Nassau and Beekman Streets, on
the south or south-west side of the latter street.
42
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
At this time the company came from Newport,
Rhode Island, where they left a favourable impres-
sion, as appears by the following extract from
Gaine's Mercury of November 9th, 1761. "New-
port, November 3d. On Friday evening last, the
company of comedians finished their performances
in this town by enacting the tragedy of Douglas
for the benefit of the poor. This second charity is
undoubtedly meant as an expression of gratitude
for the countenance and favour the town has shown
them; and it cannot without an uncommon degree
of malevolence be ascribed to an interested or sel-
fish view, because it is given at a time when the
company are just leaving the place, and conse-
quently can have neither fear nor hope from the
public. In return for this generosity it ought in
justice to be told, that the behaviour of the company
here has been irreproachable: and, with regard to
their skill as players, the universal pleasure and
satisfaction they have given is their best and most
honourable testimony. The character they brought
from the governor and gentlemen of Virginia has
been fully verified, and, therefore, we shall run no
risk in pronouncing that they are capable of
entertaining a sensible and polite audience."
6
It appears from this, that the Thespians found
foes among the slave-dealers of Newport, who pro-
bably thought a stage-player a greater abomina-
tion than the kidnapper, or receiver and abetter of
the kidnapper, of the miserable negro. It likewise
RECEIPTS AND EXPENSES IN NEW-YORK.
43
appears that the actors carried and exhibited a
character from place to place, vouching for their
capability, and took care at this time to smooth
their way in New-York by this commendation, re-
published from the Gazette of Newport. Notwith-
standing this policy, a strenuous opposition was
still made to the players, and permission was given
to them at this time to perform only two months.
They played twice a week. The house held £180
or 450 dollars. They calculated their average re-
ceipts at three hundred dollars, which, for the six-
teen nights allowed them, gave four thousand eight
hundred dollars. They stated the current expenses
of the sixteen nights to amount to two hundred and
fifty pounds, or six hundred and twenty-five dol-
lars, (at 39 dollars 7 cents per night). The cost of
the theatre was estimated at sixteen hundred and
twenty-five dollars. By this we may judge of the
size and elegance of the building, and compare it
with the theatres of the present day. The cost of
scenery and wardrobe was set down at four hun-
dred pounds, or one thousand dollars; making
the money expended amount to thirteen hundred
pounds, or three thousand one hundred and fifty
dollars, leaving a balance of six hundred and
twenty pounds, or fifteen hundred and fifty dol-
lars, to pay their individual expenses while in
New-York, and their travelling charges. This
curious statement and calculation was published
by Douglass as an answer to an enemy who had
44
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
asserted in the journals of the day that the com-
pany would cost the city six thousand pounds.
Play tickets were advertised to be sold by Hugh
Gaine, at the Bible and Crown. Box 8 shillings,
pit 5 shillings, gallery 3 shillings. "The doors to
be opened at four, and the play to begin precisely
at six o'clock. No person to be admitted behind
the scenes."
Many of our older citizens will remember Mr.
Gaine with respect. He was Irish by birth, and
rose to fortune, like Franklin, by industrious ap-
plication to the type and the press. Industry does
not always imply economy, but with this worthy
man they went hand in hand, until wealth, their
inevitable result, justified the assumption of a more
swelling port. He was never ostentatious or pro-
digal, but ever liberal both of time and property
for the service of the public, or of meritorious indi-
viduals. His business was attended to with the
same punctuality, the same brown wig-such as
we should look for in vain in these degenerate
days-the same long-skirted brown coat, the same
shrewdness and good humour, which had charac-
terized him from early life. He printed and edited
the newspaper called The Mercury, which had af-
terward the additional title of the Weekly Gazette
for many years, conducting it through the war of
the revolution under the auspices of the Bible and
Crown. It is needless to say that in 1783 the crown
fell, but the Bible continued as the sign of his
*
AMERICAN COMPANY IN 1761.
45
printing-office and book-store, in Hanover Square,
now Pearl Street, near Wall Street, for many years
after it had lost its companion. This separation
betokened that of church from state, which is one
of the safeguards of our liberty.
The old American company at this period, 1761,
consisted of Messrs. Douglass, Hallam, (the second,
his son-in-law), Allyn, Morris, Quelch, Tomlinson,
Sturt, Reed, Tremaine, and Master A. Hallam;
Mesdames Douglass, Morris, Crane, Allyn, and
Miss Hallam.
The oppositionists continued their attacks through
the medium of the public prints, and the players
defended themselves by repeating their prologue
and epilogue, revised by the author, and by acting
a play for the benefit of "such poor families as are
not provided for by the public."
The profit arising from the representation of
Othello, after deducting the charges of the night,
(exclusive of remuneration to actors, who all gave
their services to appease opposition and feed the
poor), was one hundred and fourteen pounds ten
shillings, or two hundred and eighty-six dollars
and a quarter. This sum was paid by Mr. Douglass
to George Harrison, Esq. and Mr. John Vander-
spiegle, who undertook the distribution of the cha-
rity.
The amount of the receipts on this occasion was
one hundred and thirty-three pounds and sixpence,
or three hundred and thirty-two dollars and fifty-
46
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
six cents. The account rendered by the manager
of receipts and expenses is inserted as a curiosity.
S.
£
s. d.
Box tickets sold at the door, 116 at 8
46 8
Pit
146
5
36 10
Gallery
90
-
3 1 13 10
Cash received at the doors
CHARGES.
To candles, 26 lb. of spermaceti at 3s. 6d.
6d.}
14 lb.
tallow
1s.
36 12 6
£133 0 6
£5 5
To music, Messrs. Harrison & Van Dienval at 36s. 3
To the front door-keeper, 16s., stage door-keeper, 8s.
To the assistants, 13s., bill sticker, 4s.
To the men's dresser, 4s., stage keeper, 32s.,
drummer, 4s.
To wine in the second act, 2s. 6d.
12
1
4
17
2
0
2 6
5 10
£18 10 6
To Hugh Gaine, for two sets of bills, advertise-
ments, and commissions,
Balance, £114 10s.
Notwithstanding the notification of "no person
admitted behind the scenes," the disorderly and
improper practice of permitting gentlemen to min-
gle with the actors and actresses behind the scenes,
and even to show themselves on the stage, was
common at this time, as is proved by the following
public notice of Dec. 31st, 1761:-" Complaints
having been several times made that a number of
gentlemen crowd the stage and very much inter-
rupt the performance, and as it is impossible the
actors, when thus obstructed, should do that jus-
tice to their parts they otherwise would; it will be
MRS. DOUGLASS'S BENEFIT BILL.
47
taken as a particular favour if no gentleman will
be offended that he is absolutely refused admit-
tance at the stage-door, unless he has previously
secured himself a place in either the stage or upper
boxes." This is a picture of the state of things
behind the scenes, which it is now scarcely possi-
ble to conceive. We know from the history of the
English stage that such was the practice in Lon-
don for many years*. On benefit nights, the stage
would be nearly filled, the auditory seated so as
to allow a small portion of the boards for the actors.
The practice was abolished long before our first
knowledge of theatres.
We cannot resist the temptation of inserting the
benefit bill of the first actress in the country, and
wife to the manager. Besides other customs of
the time, the last paragraph shows the existence
in Feb. 1762, the date of the bill, of a custom pro-
bably common in England at the time.
For the benefit of Mrs. Douglass, the tragical history of KING
RICHARD THE THIRD, containing the distress and death of King
Henry the Sixth in the Tower; the usurpation of the crown by
Richard; the inhuman murder of the young King Edward the Fifth,
and his brother the Duke of York; the fall of the Duke of Buck-
ingham; the landing of the Earl of Richmond (afterwards Henry
the Seventh) at Milford; the battle of Bosworth Field, and death of
Richard, which put an end to the contention between the houses of
York and Lancaster; with many other historical passages.
* In 1721, a riot was occasioned at Rich's theatre, by the inso-
lence of the people of quality behind the curtain, which ended in a
fight between the nobles and the players, and the final capture of the
men of condition, and triumph of the actors.
48
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
King Richard,
Richmond,
by Mr. Douglass;
by Mr. Hallam;
King Henry, by Mr. Allyn; King Edward the Fifth, by Master A.
Hallam; Duke of York, by a young Master for his diversion; Duke
of Buckingham, by Mr. Tomlinson; Lord Stanly, by Mr. Morris ;
Lieutenant of the Tower, by Mr. Sturt; Catesby, by Mr. Reed;
Tressel, by Mr. Hallam; Dutchess of York, by Mrs. Crane; Lady
Anne, by Mrs. Morris, and Queen Elizabeth, by Mrs. Douglass.
To which will be added, a dramatic satire called LETHE, with
the additional character of Lord Chalkstone. Lord Chalkstone,
by Mr. Allyn; Æsop, by Mr. Douglass; Fine Gentleman, Mr. Hal-
lam; Mercury, Mr. Sturt; Frenchman, Mr. Allyn; Charon, Mr.
Tomlinson; Old Man, Mr. Morris; Mr. Tattoo, Mr. Reed; Bow-
man, Mr. Tomlinson; Drunken Man, Mr. Hallam; Mrs.Riot, by
Mrs. Douglass.
Tickets to be had of Mr. Gaine, printer, at the sign of the Bible
and Crown, in Hanover Square, and of Mrs. Douglass, at her lodg-
ings near the theatre, where places in the boxes may be taken. Box
8s., pit 5s., gallery 3s.
The ceremony of waiting on ladies and gentlemen at their houses
with bills has been for some time left off in this company; the fre-
quent solicitations on these occasions having been found rather an
inconvenience to the person so waited on, than a compliment.
It is not only on the state of theatrical manners
and customs that these notices from bills and ad-
vertisements throw light; we gain a peep at our
long-buried ancestors of the colonies, which, aided
by an active imagination, conjures up scenes of real
life that otherwise would have slept in oblivion.
We see the beaux of 1761, with their powdered
wigs, long stiff-skirted coats and waistcoats, with
flaps reaching nearly to the knees of their inex-
pressibles, their silk stockings, short-quartered
shoes, and silver or paste buckles, crowding and
ogling the actresses on the stage, having secured
the box ticket for the purpose of gaining admis-
BEEKMAN STREET THEATRE PULLED DOWN. 49
sion behind the scenes; the ladies in the boxes
looking now on the actor, and now on a friend or
brother by his side. And we see the actor or ac-
tress going from house to house, presenting benefit
bills, and soliciting patronage-"rather an incon-
venience to the person so waited upon."
The company finished their labours in New-
York on the 26th of April, 1762, with a play for
the benefit of the Charity School, and "a hand-
some sum was raised and delivered by Mr. Doug-
lass to the churchwardens."
From this time until 1767 we have no documents
of any special value relative to the state of the
company, or the feelings of the people towards
them. They went their rounds on the continent,
and in the English West Indies.
The "troubles," however, which agitated the co-
lonies, in consequence of the stamp-act, occasioned
the destruction of the third New-York theatre. The
arts can only be cherished in seasons of peace and
prosperity. During the civil wars in England, the
theatres were shut, and the players entered the
king's army, in opposition to the republic. The
republicans of New-York, in 1764, whether re-
membering the predilection of the actors for mon-
archy, or from other causes, determined to over-
throw the play-house in Beekman Street, and a
gentleman lately residing on Long Island, then a
boy, told us that he was engaged in the work of
destruction. He said that a number of persons
assembled in a yard, or open space, opposite to
VOL. I.
E
-
י
.
50
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
the theatre, in the evening, and set on the boys
to commence the work, which, once begun, found
hands enough to aid in it. Thus it appears that
the first cloud portending civil war discharged its
thunders on the temple of the Muses: the cloud
passed off, and left the political horizon in a state
of flattering calm and brightness-flattering be-
cause deceitful.
During this calm, Thomas Godfrey, of Philadel-
phia, the son of the inventor of the quadrant, in
1765, published a play called The Prince of Par-
thia, a tragedy, founded on, but deviating from
history; whether intended for the stage, or only
for the closet, is unknown. That it was not per-
formed by the players is certain. This is the first
American drama on record.
In 1767 we find further records of the dramatic
Muse, which require a new chapter.
CHAPTER III.
Theatre in John Street, New-York — John Henry — Theatre in
Albany-New-York Hospital-Doctor Cooper- First Theatre
in Charleston.-The four Misses Storer-Miss Cheer Con-
gress recommends the closing of Theatres, or rather resolves to
discourage extravagance and dissipation, and names Theatres as
among the sources The resolution communicated by Peyton
Randolph — Wignell arrives — Antiquities.
In the summer of 1767, the theatre in John Street,
New-York, was built very much upon the plan of
that in the Southern liberties at Philadelphia,
already mentioned. It was principally of wood;
an unsightly object, painted red. The situation of
this house was on the north side of the street,
nearly opposite to the present Arcade (1832). It
was about 60 feet back from the street, having a
covered way of rough wooden material from the
pavement to the doors. There is reason to believe
that at this time the dressing-rooms and green-
room were under the stage, for, after the revolu-
tion, Hallam and Henry added on the west side of
the building a range of rooms for dressing, and a
commodious room for assembling previous to being
called to go on. Two rows of boxes, with a pit
and gallery, could accommodate all the play-going
people of that time, and yield to the sharers eight
hundred dollars when full, at the usual prices.
E 2
52
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
The stage was of good dimensions, as far as
memory serves, equal to that of Colman's theatre,
originally Foote's, in the Haymarket, London.
The John Street theatre was opened on the 7th
of December, 1767, with Farquhar's lively and
licentious comedy of The Beaux' Stratagem, which
now cannot be tolerated, and Garrick's Lethe.
On this occasion, Mr. John Henry, long known
as one of the firm of Hallam and Henry, and one
of the best performers in the colonies, made his
first appearance in America, in the character of
Aimwell, and, judging from his appearance twenty
years later, he must have been as handsome an
Aimwell as ever trod the stage*. Henry, an Irish-
man by birth, had been liberally educated, and
made his debut in London, under the patronage of
the elder Sheridan, author of the once fashionable
Pronouncing Dictionary, well known as an actor,
and better known as the father of the author of
The School for Scandal. The success of Henry on
the London stage had not been sufficient to gain
him a place among the successors of Garrick; but
to fail of success in London was the lot of Garrick
on his first appearance, and afterwards Siddons
experienced the same neglect.
* Carpenter, an English or Irish historian of the stage, with an
accuracy similar to that of Burke, the Irish historian of Virginia, says
that Hallam, the son-in-law and successor of Douglass, found Henry
an actor at Drury Lane after our revolution, and entering into part-
nership with him, he made his first appearance in consequence of
this arrangement, and of course after 1783.
THE MISSES STORER.
53
The company was still Douglass's, but many
changes had occurred. Many of the original ad-
venturers, and even of their successors, had dis-
appeared, and in their places on the play-bills we
find the names of Messrs. Henry, Wall, Roberts,
Greville, Wools, and Raworth, with Mesdames
Harman, Wall, Cheer, Wainwright, Storer, F. Sto-
rer, and M. Storer. The last and first Miss Storer
were afterward in turn Mrs. Henry, the youngest
died first of the three, as Mrs. Henry; and after
Henry's death, the two elder sisters were known as
Mrs. Mechler and Mrs. Hogg. Mrs. Storer and
four daughters had joined the company in Jamaica;
the daughters were designated as Miss Storer, Miss
Ann Storer, Miss Fanny Storer, and Miss Maria
Storer. Henry married the eldest, but, during a
voyage from Jamaica, the vessel in which she was
a passenger, whether he was with her or not we
know not, was burnt, and she with it. This accident
took place on our eastern coast. The second sister,
Ann or Nancy, was the mother of a son, borne to
Henry, and afterwards captain of a ship. The third
sister, Fanny, was afterwards Mrs. Mechler. Maria,
the fourth sister, died Mrs. Henry. The second
sister, Ann or Nancy, was afterward Mrs. Hogg.
This gives us a glimpse at the state of manners
and morals among these teachers of virtue and
morality, and such instances, even if rare, account
for that repelling principle which keeps the cautious
and the pure in private society aloof from those
who delight them in public. Those who attract
54
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
}
public attention should be able to bear the scru-
tiny of the public. It is not players alone that are
found wanting when weighed in the balance, and
it is unjust to fix a stigma on a profession which
appertains to an unworthy individual.
The name of Miss Cheer appears for the first
time on occasion of opening the house in John
Street. She played the part of Mrs. Sullen, and
from this time shared the first rank of characters
with Mrs. Douglass*.
The youngest Miss Storer possessed beauty and
talent. She was, until the year 1792, the best
public singer America had known. She played
tragedy and comedy with spirit and propriety,
although her figure was rather petite for the first,
or for the elegant females of Congreve and Cibber.
Wools was for many years the first singer of the
company, continuing to figure as such long after
all voice had left him, and snuff and snuffle cha-
racterized his attempts.
We must be permitted to insert the bill for the
opening of the theatre in John Street, a place which
yet lives in the memories of some hundreds of the
citizens of New-York.
"By permission of his Excellency the Governor. By the American
Company. At the theatre in John Street, this present evening,
being the 7th instant, December, will be presented a comedy, called
The Stratagem.
Archer, Mr. Hallam; Aimwell, Mr. Henry; Sullen, Mr. Tom-
linson; Freeman, Malone; Foigard, Allyn; Gibbet, Wools; Scrub,
* We have before us a Philadelphia play-bill, in which Hallam is
announced for Macbeth, and Miss Cheer as Lady Macbeth.
WAR-DANCE OF THE CHEROKEE CHIEFS. 55
Wall; Boniface, Douglass; Dorinda, Miss Hallam; Lady Bountiful,
Mrs. Harman; Cherry, Miss Wainwright; Gipsey, Mrs. Wall; Mrs.
Sullen, Miss Cheer. An occasional epilogue by Mrs. Douglass."
The afterpiece of Lethe gave Mr. Wools an
opportunity of singing as Mercury, and a song in
character was sung by Miss Wainwright. The
bill concludes" Vivant Rex et Regina.
""
On the 14th of December, nine chiefs of the
Cherokee nation attended the theatre. Richard
the Third was played for their edification, and the
journal remarks that "they regarded the play with
attention, but seemed to express nothing but sur-
prise. The Oracle and Harlequin's Vagaries drew
forth some proofs of their being diverted." Soon
after, the bills announce that "the Cherokee chiefs
and warriors, being desirous of making some return
for the friendly reception and civilities they have
received in this city, have offered to entertain the
public with a war-dance;" and "it is humbly pre-
sumed that no part of the audience will forget the
proper decorum so essential to all public assemblies,
particularly on this occasion, as the persons who
have condescended to contribute to their entertain-
ment are of rank and consequence in their own
country." How many reflections does this precious
morçeau give rise to!—but the reader shall not be
anticipated.
In December, the papers of the day announce
that Mrs. Morris, of the theatre (together with her
maid servant), was drowned in crossing the ferry
at Kill Vankeel. The husband of the person here
#
56
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
mentioned appears to have joined the company in
1761; he is remembered as part of it until 1800.
He was a low comedian, and played the old men of
farce and comedy, when the shuffling gait and
whistling treble, which time had forced upon him,
were applauded as most exquisite imitations of old
age, whose imperfections are ever the jest of the
thoughtless vulgar. Those who can look back to
1788 will remember him a little shrivelled old man,
with a voice palsied by years, having for his second
wife a tall elegant woman, the favourite comedy
lady, and the admiration of the public.
The first notice of a custom which prevailed
within the remembrance of the writer is thus men-
tioned on a play-bill dated January 19, 1768.
"Ladies will please to send their servants to keep
their places, at four o'clock." From four until
six and later, the front seats of the boxes were
occupied by blacks of every age, waiting until
their masters and mistresses made their appear-
ance.
On the 16th of January, 1769, the theatre in
John Street was opened, under the direction of
Douglass, with King John and The Old Maid.
The only new names in the bills are Byerly, Parker,
and Darby.
The 17th of March, The Busy Body and Brave
Irishman were announced to be performed-by par-
ticular desire of the GRAND KNOT of the friendly
brothers of St. Patrick. The charter song by Mr.
Wools.
FIRST PLAY IN ALBANY, 1769.
57
March 28. The Tender Husband and Uphol-
sterer were advertised for "the entertainment of
the R. W. Grand Master, the M. W. and brethren
of the ancient and honourable Society of Free and
Accepted Masons." To the bill was annexed the
following invitation: "The company of all the
brethren in town is earnestly requested to meet
at Burn's at 5 o'clock on the day of performance,
and walk from thence in procession to the theatre,
where the pit will be reserved for their accommo-
dation."
In the New York Journal of April 10th, we find
Othello and Hob in the Well advertised-"the
part of Othello to be attempted by a gentleman
assisted by other gentlemen in the characters of the
Duke and Senate of Venice, from a benevolent and
generous design of encouraging the theatre, and
relieving the performers from some embarrass-
ments in which they are involved."
Miss Wainwright, who appears to have been a
principal comic actress, retired from the stage
about this time, and Mrs. Douglass, who had, as
Mrs. Hallam, been the heroine of Goodman's Fields
theatre in the time of Garrick's first success and
afterwards, and who, as we have seen, had been
the favourite of the West Indian and North Ameri-
can colonists from 1752, was now declining in
health, and approaching the final exit.
On the 19th of June, the theatre closed with the
play of Love for Love, and, for the sixth time, The
Padlock. Mr. Hallam, the son of Mrs. Douglass,
58
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
who, as we have seen, came from England with his
parents at the age of twelve, was now the principal
comedian and tragedian of the company. He
ascribed his success to the instructions of Rigby,
who was the first male player of the original band.
In The Padlock, Mr. Hallam was unrivalled to his
death, giving the Mungo with a truth derived from
study of the Negro slave character, which Dibdin
the writer could not have conceived.
Albany was visited by the servants of the Muses
for the first time in July of this year; having
gained permission "for one month only," from
"his Excellency the Governor." On the 3d of July,
1769, the first play was performed in the city, now
the seat of government of the great state of New-
York. The entertainments were the tragedy of
Venice Preserved, with a farce, and the price of
admission, boxes 6s.; pit 4s.; gallery 2s. The
days of playing, as everywhere else, were Mon-
days, Wednesdays, and Fridays. The company
performed in the Hospital.
The last visit of Douglass and his company to
New York seems to have been unfortunate, and
the "embarrassments" above alluded to probably
deterred them from a visit to John Street for some
months. They had other homes, and Philadel-
phia was one of the best, though the island of
Jamaica was the warmest. We find them in An-
napolis, in 1772, where the reader will recollect
that the first theatre was built, and that a brick
building, whereas no other was erected of more
THE FIRST GOOD SCENERY.
59
permanent materials than wood, until the Chestnut
Street Philadelphia theatre was built forty years
after it.
In the Maryland Gazette of 1772, we see " By
authority. By the American Company. On Tues-
day, Sept. 1st. The theatre will be opened with a
comedy written by Hugh Kelly, author of False
Delicacy, &c., called A Word to the Wise." On
this occasion we find, for the first time, the names
of Messrs. Goodman and Johnson, and Mrs. Mor-
ris, the actress mentioned above as Mr. Morris's
second wife.
Scenery is for the first time particularly an-
nounced. We have reason to believe that the de-
partment of the Drama which depended upon the
painter had not hitherto created much of illusion,
or even sensation. On this occasion the bills say,
"with a new set of SCENES, painted by Mr. Richards
of London." It is reasonable to conclude, that, as
Annapolis saw the first theatre in America, she
likewise saw displayed the first well painted set of
scenery. There appears to have been no gallery
in the Annapolis theatre, as the prices given are
"Boxes 7 shillings and 6 pence, pit 5 shillings."
We notice another circumstance, which is the first
mention made of a box book. It is in these words:
Places in the boxes to be had at the theatre,
where a book is kept for that purpose.”
66
The usual routine of playing and travelling,
from the North American colonies to the West
60
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
Indies and back again, occupied the Thespians
without leaving any memorable trace until the year
1773, when, on the 14th of April, Douglass opened
the theatre in New-York, giving notice that it
would be impossible to keep it open " longer than
the end of May." It will be seen that the time was
extended to August, from which we may conclude
that the company was more successful than at their
last visit.
On the 3d of May, the manager threatened the
gallery gods that if they did not behave better he
would expel them from Olympus. "The repeated
insults," he says, "which some mischievous persons
in the gallery have given, not only to the stage and
orchestra, but to the other parts of the house, call
loudly for reprehension:" he then goes on to say,
that unless this is amended, "the gallery for the
future will be shut up." In this same month ap-
peared Dryden's alteration of Shakspeare's Tem-
pest, to which no other term will apply than that of
a profanation — and yet it is still played, and still
applauded.
About this time died Mrs. Catharine Maria
Harman, of the American Company, a grand-
daughter of Colley Cibber, the poet laureate, the
hero of Pope's Dunciad, the author of The Careless
Husband, and of the most amusing work on his
profession ever written, for he was likewise a
player, and a very good one.
His autobiography
is unrivalled. Mrs. Harman is recorded as a just
DR. COOPER's prologue.
actress and an exemplary woman-
humane, and benevolent."
61
"sensible,
This summer, several appearances of "gentle-
men” in various characters diversify the bills, and
on the 26th of July the tragedy of George Barn-
well and the farce of The Padlock were performed,
"as a support to the Hospital about to be erected.”
The following N. B. was added to the bill.
"It is hoped that all who are charitably disposed, or wish well to
so laudable and useful an undertaking, will countenance this play
with their presence, or otherwise contribute their mite towards so
GOOD a WORK as providing a receptacle for the sick and needy. It is
hoped by the friends of the Hospital, that the moral of the play to be
acted will have some influence with those who are otherwise no friends
to the theatre.”
The Reverend Dr. Cooper, provost of King's
(now Columbia) College, wrote the following pro-
logue for the occasion, which was spoken by Mr.
Hallam. The doctor, it will be seen, makes the
players pledge themselves to support a moral stage.
I fear that this was not always remembered; and
managers and actors are too apt to lay the " flat-
tering unction to their souls" which David Garrick
provided for himself and them, that "they who live
to please must please to live." The stage, however,
became more and more cleansed from "the artful
hint" and the "thoughts that modesty need blush
to hear," which the writer of the verses makes the
speaker, for his companions, disclaim. And inas-
much as the wise and the good countenance the
Drama, wisdom and morality must take the place
of the "ribald page" of former times.
62
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
Prologue, written by the Rev. Dr. Cooper, on the occasion of a play
being performed to assist in building the New-York Hospital.
With melting breast the wretch's pangs to feel,
His cares to soften or his anguish heal,
Wo into peace by pity to beguile,
And make disease, and want, and sorrow, smile;
Are deeds that nobly mark the generous mind,
Which swells with liberal love to human kind,
And triumphs in each joy to others known,
As blissful portions added to his own.
Small though our powers, we pant with honest heart
In pity's cause to bear a humble part;
We gladly give this night to aid a plan
Whose object's charity and good to man.
Patrons of charity! while time endures,
Be
every bliss of conscious virtue your's!
The hoary father, snatch'd from want and pain,
Oft to his consort and his youthful train
Shall praise the hand that rais'd his drooping head,
When every hope, when every friend, had fled,
That rais'd him, cold and naked, from the ground,
And pour'd the healing balsam in his wound,
With kindly art detain'd his parting breath,
And back repell'd the threat'ning dart of death.
The plaintive widow, shedding tears of joy,
As, fondly watching o'er her darling boy,
Her anxious eyes with keen discernment trace
The dawn of health relumining his face,
Shall clasp him to her breast with raptures new,
And pour the prayer of gratitude for you.
In
you, the long lost characters shall blend
Of guardian, brother, father, husband, friend!
And sure if bliss in mortal breast can shine,
That purest bliss, humanity! is thine.
Let not mistaken avarice deplore
Each mite diminish'd from his useless store;
But tell the wretch that liberal acts bestow
Delights which hearts like his can never know;
Tell-for you feel that generous love receives
A double portion of the joy it gives,
•
FIRST THEATRE IN CHARLESTON.
Beams o'er the soul a radiance pure and even,
And antedates on earth the bliss of Heaven.
This night, to youth, our moral scene displays
How false, how fatal, are the wanton's ways;
Paints her alluring looks, fallacious wiles,
And the black ruin lurking in her smiles;
Bids us the first approach of vice to shun,
And claims a tear for innocence undone.
While scenes like this employ our humble stage,
We fondly hope your favours to engage ;
No ribald page shall here admittance claim,
Which decency or virtue brands with shame;
No artful hint that wounds the virgin's ear,
No thought that modesty would blush to hear;
We ask no patronage disclaim applause —
But while we act and speak in virtue's cause.
This is our aim - and while we this pursue,
We ne'er can fail of patronage from you.
63
Hallam had now succeeded Rigby both as first
player and as speaker of prologues, and added be-
sides the best parts in farce and the holiday magi-
cian, Harlequin. The only new name added to the
dramatis persone this season is that of Blackler.
In August the theatre closed in New-York with
Goldsmith's new comedy of She Stoops to Conquer,
and the company went to Annapolis, and thence to
Philadelphia, where Mrs. Douglass (the mother of
Mr. Hallam and Mrs. Mattocks) died.
This summer, the first theatre was built in
Charleston, South Carolina, Douglass having gain-
ed permission from the magistrates and being
invited by the inhabitants. In September he went
thither, and the company followed him. They
played fifty-one nights in that city, closing the
campaign in June, 1774.
64
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
Hallam, Miss Hallam, and Wools, proceeded
from Charleston to London, and the remainder of
the company arrived in New-York, intending to
open the theatre in the fall; but the Provincial
Congress had met in Philadelphia, and, not seeing
in a company of English players from the Theatres
Royal fit instruments to second the cause of Ameri-
can liberty, or wishing to turn the attention of
mankind to something more immediately necessary
in their opinion to the welfare of the colonies than
any branch of the fine arts, they recommended a
suspension of all public amusements. Their re-
commendation was a law to those who looked up
to them as the assertors of their rights; the thea-
tres were closed, and the Thespians embarked for
the more loyal colonies of the English West Indies.
It was on the 24th of October, 1774, that the
first Congress passed the above resolution or re-
commendation. They agreed to discountenance and
discourage every species of extravagance and dissi-
pation; and among others named " gaming, cock-
fighting, exhibitions of shows, plays, and other ex-
pensive diversions and entertainments”—a strange
medley! plays ranked with cockfighting and gam-
bling, and these last only censured because expen-
sive. This resolution of Congress was conveyed to
Douglass in a letter from the president, Peyton
Randolph; and the committee of New-York gave
him likewise notice of the same.
Wignell, so well known afterwards throughout
the continent, had been sent out by his cousin Hal-
BOSTON.
65
lam, on his arrival in London, and reached New-
York the day before the news of the recommenda-
tion of Congress found its way to that city. He
was sitting under his hairdresser's hands, when it
was made known that all the theatres on the con-
tinent were virtually closed by this recommenda-
tion. Of course he only joined the company to aid
in their West India campaign, and remained
unknown to North America until after she had
become an independent nation.
Before commencing a new chapter, let us take a
view of the boundaries, and note some of the anti-
quities, if any thing in this new world of European
colonization can deserve the name, of two or three
of our principal cities.
It is very difficult for one who remembers our
cities, or indeed our country generally, as it was
before the revolution, to conceive that the time
which has since elapsed could have produced the
immense changes which every where appear. Our
cities are so dissimilar that we look for causes
adequate to such effects. We find them in our
republican institutions, and in the federal union
which has given them stability. Before the revo-
lution, Boston was, in the eyes of Europe, America.
Greatly as Boston has increased and improved,
and deservedly ranking for intelligence with the
most favoured places in either hemisphere, she now
holds but a third place in the scale of political im-
portance among the cities of the United republic.
When she placed herself in the front of battle, an
VOL. I.
F
66
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
received, as she had provoked, the first blow in
defence of the rights of Americans, the splendid
bridges and magnificent causeways which connect
the city with the surrounding main land had no
existence. Beacon Hill towered above the town,
which meandered in crooked streets around its
base, from the neck to north end, and looked over it
on the beautiful bay to the east; Charlestown lay
to the north; and upon the common were some
straggling houses and rough fields or waste lands;
to the south-west and west, the town and hills of
Roxbury. The hill has vanished; the fields are
thickly covered with houses like palaces; the com-
mon remains a beautiful lawn, on two sides bor-
dered by the Mall, the finest public walk, in some
respects, which we know in America, and which
was commenced by the troops of Great Britain,
when Gage defied the assembling bands of militia,
who took post on the surrounding heights of Rox-
bury and Cambridge. The English general thought
he was forming a pleasure-walk for the future
subjects of his and his master's government. But
a few years since, perhaps now, the excavation
from which the gravel was taken to raise and level
the Mall was seen, and the faint traces of the
wheels on which it was borne from the west side of
the common. The noble trees, under whose shade
we have seen the ancient and honourable, and
Sargeant's light infantry, and other corps of militia,
the best disciplined in the world, perform their
military evolutions, were planted by the mercena-
NEWPORT.
67
ries who were expected by the parliament of Eng-
land to march triumphantly over the fields and
corpses of Americans, from one end of the continent
to the other. The paltry buildings, which then
served for Adams and Hancock to display their
eloquence in, have given place to edifices such as
did not then exist, even in the imaginations of the
sober townsfolk. But Boston, as it then existed,
does not perhaps fall within the province of the
historian of the American theatre, for it was not
until some years after the revolution that an insti-
tution of that nature was permitted to occupy a
place within its limits, except when occupied by a
hostile army.
Newport, as it existed before the year 1775, be-
fore Providence became the metropolis of the state
of Rhode-Island, is described by James Fenimore
Cooper in his charming romance of The Red Rover
-the slave-market of the West Indies and the
southern colonies, and the summer resort of the
planters who sought health and pleasure in the
breezes of the north, and profit in the forced labour
of the African. One of its antiquities has occupied
some attention, and is made by the novelist the
scene of several incidents belonging to his plot.
The conjectures respecting this object of anti-
quarian research remind the writer of a discovery
of this nature made by him on his first visit to the
city of Hudson. According to his custom, he had
gone straight forward from the landing-place to the
highest ground he could perceive within his reach-
F 2
68
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
a hill behind the town. There, after admiring the
Catskill mountains, the magnificent river, and all
the varied landscape below and around, his atten-
tion was arrested by a number of large blocks of
stone, placed circularly on the summit of the hill.
Conjecture and imagination were instantly hard at
work. No other stones were near.
These must
have been brought thither from a distance and
with much labour, probably by the aborigines.
Probability was very soon certainty. It must have
been a rustic altar. No doubt they here offered to
the great spirit the first fruit of their maize fields,
or of their hunting. Imagination pictured their
figures, as they danced round this hallowed circle,
their ceremonies, their sacrifices, perhaps of human
victims taken in war. Filled with these images,
the traveller returned to the town, and from the
heights real and imaginary descended to the inn,
and mixed with every-day beings. But the Indians,
and the important if not magic circle, were upper-
most in his thoughts, and an opportunity was
sought and found to speak of it to an elderly gen-
tleman of the town, who had been occupied by the
newspaper. He listened — inquired the spot
was told.-"Oh, on the hill! ah, where the old
windmill used to stand." Never was imagination
more quickly put to flight by reality. All was
plain without further inquiry. The altar or temple,
the scene of so many sacred rites and solemn
sacrifices, was the foundation of an old windmill.
The reader will remember Oldbuck and Edie Ochil-
.
tree.
BALTIMORE.
69
We have travelled out of the record, but re-
turn to Newport. The theatre of this pleasantly
situated town was an apartment over the market-
house, and, as all that is metropolitan tends to the
seat of commerce up the river, no other temple
had been dedicated to the Muse in Newport.
Baltimore must be left for consideration at a
period subsequent to the war of independence, for
the same reason that Boston is reserved; and we
must refer the reader to Watson's Annals of Phila-
delphia for the antiquities of that city. This gen-
tleman has been indefatigable in his research, and
has preserved from oblivion very many valuable
facts, and descriptions of buildings as they existed
in former times, which but for him would have
been lost. In a manuscript diary of a citizen of
New-York, written when on a visit to Philadelphia
in the winter of 1793-4, I find this memorandum :
"This day visited Bush Hill. During the late
dreadful fever, this place was occupied as an hospi-
tal for the infected. It is now inhabited by French
fugitives from St. Domingo. The house and grounds
are all in ruins, though evidently once a very de-
lightful country residence. Many of the bedsteads
used for the unhappy citizens who were conveyed
hither from their homes were standing by the
door. The committee took forcible possession of
this house as a proper place for the purpose or use
intended. Two of the committee of health distin-
guished themselves in a remarkable manner. At a
time when no attendants or nurses could be pro-
70
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
cured, and the miserable subjects of this pestilence
were dying hourly in the hospital, Peter Helmes and
Stephen Girard went thither, and officiated night
and day in the lowest and most disgusting offices
both to dead and dying. These men are now
alive." Let us add, that Stephen Girard lived
until 1832, the richest man in the United States,
and, with the same benevolence which guided him
in 1793, left his immense property for the promo-
tion of human happiness.
Another extract from the above diary may be ac-
ceptable. “Visited the stranger's burying-ground,
called Potters' Field, and saw the manner of bury-
ing the dead during the fever. The graves were
dug in rows, very deep and large, and four bodies
deposited in each. Some of these pits are open,
being a surplus, which gave me an opportunity of
judging of their size. They were scarcely a foot
asunder, and I computed that in that field alone
upwards of 1800 persons were interred. It was a
melancholy scene. I looked with peculiar emotion
on one of the carts then employed in conveying the
dead bodies." The traces of this cemetery have
long disappeared. In the midst of the beautiful
city, a square full of life gives no indication of the
mansions of the dead by pestilence. Washington
Square in New-York is another instance of the
abode of death being changed to a source of life
and pleasure.
In Watson's work above-mentioned are notices
of New-York, but as the writer, who now wishes to
NEW-YORK IN 1767.
71
occupy the reader's attention, has been familiar
with the latter city from childhood, he detects
errors in what Mr. Watson has gleaned from the
memories of others, and thinks he shall do more
service to the searcher into such reminiscences of
the past by giving his own recollections, than by
adopting those of any other if in contradiction to
them. Besides, we are now to consider New-York
as it existed from 1767 to 1774.
It will be recollected that the second theatre
built in New-York was situated on Cruger's wharf.
It was built in 1758. The place called Cruger's
wharf appears, by a map of the city published in
1767, to have been a block projecting into the
harbour, having the water of the bay on each side,
and being based upon Little Dock Street, now
that part of Water Street between Coenties-slip
and Old-slip. We will proceed along what is called
the East river, and go northward and eastward.
The portion of Water Street between Old-slip and
Coffee-house-slip was unbuilt on its east side,
the water occupying the space. From the Coffee-
house-slip to Fly or Vly Market-slip, or Long
Island ferry, that which is Water Street now was
called Burnet Street. It was built on both sides,
and had a block somewhat similar to Cruger's
wharf projecting into the harbour. Having crossed
Fly Market-slip, we find a similar projection
serving as the foundation and continuation of
Water Street to Burling-slip, from whence, as we
go north-east, the water occupied the east side
72
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
of Water Street, except as piers or wharfs pro-
jected into it. That part of Water Street which
was then so called commenced at Peck's-slip, ex-
tending eastward till intersecting Cherry Street,
which last terminates at what was afterward
New-slip, but then was the commencement of "the
ship-yards."
Having travelled by the edge of the harbour on
the east side of the town as far as it extended, we
will return to our starting place on Cruger's wharf,
and proceed south-west, on which side we find the
tide-water flowing up to what is now Pearl Street,
and a long pier projecting into it. South-west of
this pier were two basins, called east and west
dock. Further on was a small 'block, which was
separated from the battery by Whitehall-slip.
The battery, occupying the low point of the
island, was founded on rocks, whose black faces
appeared between the ramparts and the water, ex-
cept at very high tide. This rocky margin was
continued round the point to the commencement of
Broadway at the same spot where it now com-
mences. Number one, Broadway, was long known
as Kennedy's house. Opposite to this well known
house, still standing but much enlarged, was an
open space, which was afterward enclosed with
iron railing, and called the Bowling-Green. In this
enclosure until 1776 stood an equestrian statue, of
lead, gilt, of the king of Great Britain, France, and
Ireland, erected on occasion of the repeal of the
stamp act. South of this place stood, on a com-
ร
NEW-YORK IN 1767.
73
manding eminence, Fort George, which overlooked
the Battery and the beautiful bay, and overhung
the little narrow street called Pearl Street, which
has given its name to what was once Dock Street,
Hanover Square, Queen Street, and Magazine
Street; like Aaron's rod, swallowing up all the
serpent rods of the Egyptian Magi, all as crookedly
serpentine as itself. The governor's house and gar-
den were within the precincts of the fort, where
were quarters or barracks for soldiers. Pearl Street
in 1767 extended only from the Battery to White-
hall: following that line now so called, first came
Dock Street to Old-slip, then Hanover Square to
Coffee-house-slip, and then Queen Street, ending in
Chatham Road or Row. This was a row on the
east side of what is now Chatham Street; the west
or north-west side was open, from where Pearl
Street now crosses Chatham to the old jail, lately
metamorphosed into a Grecian temple. This open
space was occupied by a rough bank and a hill
called Windmill Hill.
Nearly opposite the place where Queen Street
ended in Chatham Road was the celebrated tea-
water pump,
from which the inhabitants were sup-
plied by carts carrying casks, and attended by
men and women, who distributed fresh water as
regularly as now milk is dealt out. The inhabitants
then kept their cows in the town, and cowherds
received them in the morning and drove them to
pasture, returning them in due time in the evening.
The cow-pastures were on the east, upon a line
74
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
with the present Grand Street, on the west, as low
down as the Hospital. Behind the tea-water pump
was situated the fresh water, or Kolk, or Collect,
extending to the vicinity of Bayard's mount, after-
ward called Bunker Hill. This was a high and
commanding sugar-loaf-shaped hill, situated on the
north side of the present Grand Street, and west of
Mott Street. To the east of Chatham Row the
town was partially built on low swampy ground,
intermingled with water to the ship-yards.
The Bowery, or Boston road, the only avenue to
the city, began as now, but there were only a few
houses beyond the tea-water pump on that side.
Farm-houses and gardens here commenced. To
the east, and near the ship-yards, on the brink of
a steep bank, a cemetery for the Jews was walled
in. Their synagogue was in Mill Street, near Broad
Street.
We will return, if the reader is not tired, to the
commencement of Broadway at Kennedy's house.
Behind this and several of the adjacent houses, as
we proceed up the street, were gardens whose
walls rested on the beach, and were washed by the
tide-water of the harbour, here called the North
or Hudson's River. Where Trinity Church now
stands, a temple more purely Gothic in its architec-
ture, and decorated with sculptured angels within
its walls, reared its tall spire. On the site of Grace
Church stood the Lutheran Church. Proceeding up
Broadway the buildings were mean until we came
to St. Paul's Chapel, and beyond that were two
.
NEW-YORK IN 1767.
75
two-story brick houses, beyond which were public
houses, gardens, fields, orchards, and swamps.
To the west of Broadway were streets bearing
the names of Rector, Thames, Crown, Courtlandt,
Partition, Vesey, Barclay, and Reed, the two last
partly built; these streets ran to Greenwich Street,
or rather to the wharfs and water, which then oc-
cupied its place. Warren and Reed Streets were
very narrow and ill-built, with here and there a
house. The Hospital was built between the years
1773 and 1775; since enlarged. King's College
was a part of what is now Columbia College. The
place now the Park was an open ground, called
the Common. The Jail and Bridewell fronted on it.
We will now go south again, to the commence-
ment of Broad Street at the water. Here were the
east and west dock, the Albany pier and bason.
Here stood the Merchants' Exchange, a brick
building, open below. A bridge or planked walk
extended from this place, where merchants congre-
gated, up the street, covering a sewer, where for-
merly the dock let in the tide, which had once flowed
up to above Garden Street, where stood the ferry-
house immortalized in Cooper's Water-Witch, by
the pen of genius, patriotism, and benevolence.
This street had many of the true Dutch houses,
with the gable-ends for fronts, and at its head stood
the City Hall, part court-house, part jail, on the
spot where afterwards Federal Hall stood, and
projected beyond the present Custom House.
76
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
The old Federal Hall is memorable as the seat of
the first Congress under our constitution, and the
place where Washington, in presence of the people
assembled in Wall and Broad Streets, and the
Senate and members of the House of Representa-
tives surrounding him, standing in the balcony in
all the simplicity of republicanism, took the oath as
first president of the United States of America.
The front of this building projected into Wall
Street, which, commencing as now at Broadway,
ended at the Coffee-house-slip. The Coffee-house
was at the corner of the slip and Burnet Street.
From the Old-slip ran Smith Street to Wall
Street, where Pitt's statue stood, erected by the
gratitude of the colony after the repeal of the stamp
act. The street continued thence under the name
it now bears, of William Street, terminating in
Queen Street, and forming the string of an irre-
gular bow.
From the Fly or Vly Market, Maiden Lane com-
menced, exceedingly narrow, and having, like all
the other streets at that time, the gutter or kennel
in the middle. Maiden Lane widened as it went
west to Broadway, and sent off a branch called
Crown Street, now Liberty, at the corner of which
and Nassau stood the old Dutch Church, on the
spot occupied in 1753 by the first theatre.
Nassau Street began obscurely at the back of the
City Hall, with a narrow passage into Wall Street,
and continued northward to Chatham Row.
NEW-YORK IN 1767.
77
John Street began, as now, in Broadway, and
was lost in a narrow lane called Golden Hill, which
descended precipitously to Queen Street, opposite
Burling-slip.
The Fly Market, as we have seen, stood at the
east end of Maiden Lane; at its west end, touching
on Broadway, stood the Oswego Market; at its
south side were some hovels and dram-shops. The
Bear Market stood on what is now Greenwich
Street, in front of the present Washington Market.
We have seen that the Jail and Bridewell fronted
on the Common. Behind these buildings, to the
north, were barracks for soldiers, and then the
ground descended in rough unseemly sort to water
and swamp; and on a kind of islet stood the
Powder Magazine, which, when the place was
filled up and a street built, gave it the name of
Magazine Street, now a part of Pearl Street.
North of the Bridewell and Jail was the place of
execution. As late as 1782-3, the effigies of two
German officers were there suspended on a gallows,
the originals of the portraits having deserted to the
rebels.
Here close we our notes of New-York before the
revolution. If any reader has accompanied the
author, let him look abroad on what it now is-
and think.
CHAPTER IV.
1776. Recollections of New-York during the War of the Revolu-
tion-Military Thespians at Boston-Burgoyne's second Drama
-A Cure for the Spleen - Theatre Royal, New-York - Captain
Stanley's Prologue-Tragedy of Douglas-Names of the Per-
formers of the British Army — Theatre in Philadelphia — Adver-
tisement for Ladies Theatre Closed.
NEW-YORK, during the revolutionary war, is fully
within the recollection of the writer. It will be
remembered that when Washington withdrew his
undisciplined army from the city, after their defeat
at Brooklyn, having with consummate skill crossed
the sound called the East river, he led the yet
unmanageable mass of citizen-soldiers beyond the
reach of the enemy, and they saw the city they
had left enveloped in flames, as they turned their
eyes to the homes upon which many looked back
for the final adieu.
The conflagration, which raged unchecked on
the night the English troops first took their quar-
ters in New-York as an enemy's city, destroyed
all the buildings, with very few exceptions, from
the lower part of Broadway, on the west side, to
Trinity Church, that beautiful Gothic edifice in-
cluded; and then, leaving the street, continued its
ravages between it and the river until nearly in
the rear of St. Paul's Chapel.
NEW-YORK DURING THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR. 79
On the eastern side of Broadway, the same de-
vastation spread from nearly opposite the site of
Grace Church, southward, then occupied by the
Lutheran Church, which had escaped the flames, to
serve the royalists for a store-house. The fire only
stopped after destroying all between Broadway
and the water to the south-east, and on the east
to Broad Street, including a part of the west side
of that street in its ruinous march. Thus a great
portion of what was then New-York was left for
years a mass of black, unsightly rubbish.
During the war, another fire added all the east
side of what was then called Great Dock Street
(now Pearl), and a great part of Little Dock Street
(now Water Street), to the ruins. The walls and
chimneys left by the first mentioned fire served the
lowest followers of the army for shelter, by the aid
of refuse boards, half-burned beams, poles, and
pieces of sail-cloth, and the filthy congregation of
vile materials went by the name of Canvass-town.
This place of refuge for drunkenness, prostitution,
and violence, was the resort of the sailors from
the ships-of-war in the harbour, of Negroes who
fled from the neighbouring provinces, and others
brought from the south by the troops in their sou-
thern expeditions. Canvass-town was the Wap-
ping, the St. Giles's, and the Five Points, of the
desolated garrisoned city,
To the south of this scene of ruin and abomina-
tion, Pearl Street, consisting of some of the two-
story houses yet remaining, escaped the confla-
80
THE AMERICAN THEATRE..
gration. Pearl Street extended originally, and at
that time, only from the Battery to Whitehall Street.
Fort George, on the north, overlooked the houses
of Pearl Street. A few houses remained at the
south extremity of the west side of Broadway; the
last and largest, then called Kennedy's house, was
the residence of the British commanders-in-chief.
Between these houses and the North river there
were no buildings, and the waves washed the walls
of their gardens.
On the eastern side, the city extended from the
ruins caused by the fire to the New Slip; then
commenced the ship-yards. Front Street and South
Street were then water or wharfs.
On the west side of the city, we have seen that
the first great fire stopped its destructive progress
on the side of Broadway nearest the river, after
devouring Trinity Church; and the portion of
the street between that church and St. Paul's was
spared; most of the houses were, however, small
and poor. There existed no brick houses beyond
St. Paul's Chapel, except two two-story buildings,
since enlarged to three stories; beyond, to the
north, were wooden houses, inhabited by those who
were allied in theory and practice to the inmates
of Canvass-town, excepting two public-houses, one
having a billiard-table in its front apartments, and
behind it the Five-alley, made notorious, not to say
famous, as the daily resort of Sir Henry Clinton
and his cortége. The commander-in-chief, we pre-
sume, after the hour of morning business, was seen
#
RECOLLECTIONS OF NEW-YORK.
81
galloping from head-quarters, near the fort, up
Broadway, to this Five-alley, and, after exercising
there, he again mounted and galloped, like a sports-
man at a fox-chase, out of town and in again, fol-
lowed at full speed by his aids and favourites.
There was another Five-alley in John Street, near
Broadway, on the same side with the theatre.
Beyond the town, and elevated above it, stood,
where it still stands, with many additions and im-
provements, that Hospital to which the Thespians
of the American Company contributed their la-
bours; and, in the outskirts of the city, the college,
since enlarged, where the writer of the prologue
spoken on that occasion, Dr. Cooper, presided as
provost. Mr. Hugh Gaine, who as usual sold the
tickets for the play, was for many years one of the
worthy governors of the charitable institution for
which the comedians and the provost laboured.
That triangular space now called the Park, and
so ornamental to the southern division of the city,
was then beyond its northern limits, except that
the Bridewell frowned on the base of the triangle
to the west, and the Jail, then called the provo,
where American prisoners suffered for asserting
the rights of their country, scowled on the east.
This place held in confinement but a small portion
of the miserable prisoners of war. The prison-
ships, those charnel-houses of the living, had a
greater share in the human victims, and the sugar-
house in Crown Street (now Liberty) might be seen,
every window filled with heads, thrust one above
VOL. I.
G
82
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
another to the top of the scanty aperture, to catch
a portion of the blessed air of heaven, which could
not find place to circulate within the massive walls
and among the throng of miserable victims. The
old Dutch Church, adjoining this abode of wretch-
edness, was occupied as a riding-school for the
dragoons, and had been used as a prison. This
little portion of the globe (the site of the church),
had been used and abused as a play-house, a church,
a riding-school, and a prison, all within the space
of one-fourth of a century. The Brick Church was
the only building in Chatham Row, except those
described as the nuisances of the other side of the
open space, called the Fields, and of Canvass Town.
The above-mentioned space was a shapeless void,
its surface undulating with hillocks of filth.
Where that building known as the Alms-house,
Museum, Academy of Arts, and finally converted
by legislative magic into part and parcel of the
City Hall, now stands, then stood a range of sol-
diers' barracks, looking down upon an open and
desolate space descending to the Collect. The mass
of mud and water which was known by that name
extended from that part of Pearl Street, not long
since called Magazine Street (from a powder-ma-
gazine which stood there in former days) to that
part of Canal Street which intersects Broadway,
then and there called the new road. The waters
of the Collect communicated with those of the low
grounds on the other side of the road, called Lis-
penard's meadows, under a bridge, and the skaters
RECOLLECTIONS OF NEW-YORK.
83
of that day passed at will from one collection of
waters when frozen to the other, i. e. from Pearl
Street (as now called), to the sand beach of the
North river, between Lispenard's mansion and the
public gardens and house of Brennon, long known
afterward as a place of entertainment kept by
Tyler, for years an important member of the dra-
matic corps, and more recently by Hogg, another
well known Thespian. Some are now living here,
and the writer among the number, who remember
the present king of England, then a midshipman,
essaying very awkwardly to skate, supported by
generals, admirals, and their supporters, on the
broad expanse of water which then in winter co-
vered that ground, now covered by houses and
churches, and a population of thousands then un-
born.
To the north of the waters of the Collect rose a
pyramidal hill, which overlooked the city and its
beautiful bay, and which, if now standing, would
be the finest spot that exists, next to Edinburg or
Naples, from which to sketch a panorama.
Its
earth has since served in part to fill the cavities
near it, and transform the waters to dry land; and
its site and miles beyond it are now loaded with
brick and stone, and filled with the busy hum of
men.
The Bowery, that noble street, was then the
Bowery Road, and the only avenue from the city
to the country. On each side were meadows and
orchards.
G 2
84
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
The new road, now Broadway, stopped at the
gardens which surrounded what has since been
called the Sailor's Snug Harbour, then the country-
seat of Andrew Elliot, Esq. At another spot, now
the corner of Leonard Street and Broadway, stood
a house and gardens, the rural retreat of our citi-
zens, called, from a retreat of the kind near Lon-
don, the White Conduit House; it has been since
called Mount Vernon Gardens, and had, as will be
seen, a theatre attached to it, the remains of which
were visible within seventeen years. Nearly op-
posite, on the other side of the new road, were the
remains of aqueducts and reservoirs begun some
time before 1775, for the purpose of raising water
from the Collect, the pond below, and to the east,
before-mentioned, to supply the city with whole-
some water from the stagnant receptacle of filth
which slaughter-houses and other nuisances poured
into it.
On the eastern side, the city terminated, as has
been said, by the ship-yards on the line of the
water, and at a small distance from the shore by
a steep bank, on which was walled in a cemetery
called the Jew's burying-ground. Near this bank
stood a house, now a tavern, and called from its
central situation Centre House. Beyond the ceme-
tery were orchards, gardens, and meadows, suffer-
ing decay from the effects of war.
To return to the extreme or south point of the
island and town. Below the towering hill on
which Fort George bristled with cannon, lay the
RECOLLECTIONS OF NEW-YORK.
85
battery, a fortification covering a portion of that
health-giving space still bearing the name. Part
of the ramparts advanced to the water's edge, and
on the north, between them and Broadway, the
rocky foundation protruded, until the earth of the
hill on which the towering fort stood was brought
down, since the war of independence, to cover them.
Such were some of the features and boundaries
of New-York during and after the revolution. The
places of amusement were the ball-room of the City
Tavern, on the spot where now a part of the City
Hotel stands, the theatre in John Street, and the
Mall, the walk in front of the ruins of Trinity
Church, the resort of beaux and belles during the
summer evenings, walking in thoughtless gaiety
or with measured steps to the music of the military
bands placed by the officers amid the graves of the
churchyard.
The military parade was each morning likewise
in front of the ruins of Trinity Church: the divi-
sions of soldiers assigned to each post of guard
throughout the city were marched from thence to
their several guard-houses; the main-guard being
at the City Hall in Wall Street. Here might be
seen the Hessian, with his towering brass-fronted
cap, mustachios coloured with the same material
that coloured his shoes, his hair plastered with
tallow and flour, and tightly drawn into a long
appendage reaching from the back of the head to
his waist, his blue uniform almost covered by the
broad belts sustaining his cartouch-box, his brass-
86
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
hilted sword, and his bayonet; a yellow waistcoat
with flaps, and yellow breeches were met at the
knee by black gaiters; and thus heavily equipped,
he stood an automaton, and received the command
or the cane of the officer who inspected him. A
contrast to the German was the Highlander, who,
though loaded with weapons and accoutrements,
appeared free and flowing in the contour of his
figure; with his low checkered bonnet, his tartan
or plaid, his short red coat, his kilt, leaving his
knees exposed to the view and the winds, and his
legs partly covered by the many-coloured hose of
his country. His musket, bayonet, broadsword,
dirk, and pistols, showed a formidable array for
the strife of blood, and the ornamental portion of
his dress was completed by a pouch hanging in
front of his kilt decorated with tassels. This cos-
tume was changed after the first or second cam-
paign in a country whose temperature and warfare
were both unsuited to it. These were the most
striking and most contrasted costumes of the army
of the king at this time, though we could describe
perhaps graphically the gallant grenadiers of An-
spach, with their towering black caps and sombre
but military array; the gaudy Waldeckers, their
cocked hats edged with yellow scallops; the Ger-
man Yagers; and the various corps of English
in glittering and gallant pomp, such as then was
seen day by day, in that walk, now passed by our
gay and peaceful citizens as they seek the breezes
of the Battery, or obey the call of the church bell,
MILITARY ACTORS.
87
or hurry to the banks, and brokers' and insurance-
offices, of Wall Street.
The main-guard of the city was at the City Hall,
a clumsy building projecting into Wall Street at
the head of Broad Street. For a short time Gene-
ral Lee was closely confined in this place.
The theatre in John Street was kept in preser-
vation by the loyal adherents of the crown and the
episcopal church, while the places of worship of
the dissenters were most of them used as barracks,
store-houses, and riding-schools.
The players were succeeded by the officers of his
Britannic majesty's army and navy, and, as a link
in the chain of the theatrical history of the country,
however imperfect and rusty the link may be
thought, we will preserve what is now known of
the Drama of that time.
The military Thespians began their transatlantic
histrionic career, as well as their less brilliant
career of arms, in Boston. As no theatre had been
built in the town, some place admitting of the
change must have been fitted up as such. The
accomplished Burgoyne, who commenced dramatic
author in 1775, by The Maid of the Oaks, now
produced his second drama in that stronghold of
puritanism and unconquerable liberty; and The
Heiress was preceded by a farce called The Block-
ade of Boston, doubtless intended to ridicule the
Yankees, who then held the soldiers of Britain
cooped up on that narrow neck of land, protected
by their ships, soon after expelled them with dis-
88
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
grace, and subsequently received the surrendered
sword of the unfortunate poet on the meadow of
Saratoga, as dear to us as Runnimede to our Eng-
lish forefathers.
It is remembered that, while the officers were
performing Burgoyne's farce, an alarm was given
that the rebels had assaulted the lines, and when
a serjeant entered and announced the fact, the
audience supposing that his words, "The rebels
have attacked the lines on the Neck," belonged to
the farce, applauded the very natural acting of the
man, and were not disturbed until successive en-
cores convinced them that it was not to the play
that the words, however apropos, belonged, and
that the prompter of the speaker was not behind
the scenes, but behind the trenches. This was,
as far as is known, the second drama written in
America, and the first, so written, that was per-
formed, although not by professors of the art his-
trionic, but amateurs. Another piece in a dramatic
form was published about this time, and perhaps
ought to take chronological precedence. It bears
no date, but as it was printed by James Riving-
ton, in New-York, evidently previous to the occu-
pation of that city by the British, and purports to
have been originally printed in New-England, it
must have been published as soon, if not be-
fore, The Blockade of Boston was played by the
British officers. That it was written before hos-
tilities commenced, its politics and whole scope
and tendency evince. Though its form is dra-
THE AMERICANS ROUSED.
89
matic, it was not intended for representation, but
by its humour and satire to attract readers and
gain proselytes to the cause of royalty or toryism.
It is entitled The Americans Roused, in a cure for
the Spleen, and the dramatis persona are Sharp, a
country Parson, Bumper, a country Justice, Fill-
pot, an Innkeeper, Graveairs, a Deacon, Trim, a
Barber, Brim a Quaker, and Puff, a late Repre-
sentative.
Trim, a political barber, conceited and talkative,
a piece of a Quotem and a Lingo, and more of a
Razor, is the advocate of the people in his shop,
but merely because it serves his interest. The
real advocates of freedom are Mr. Puff, who, to
suit the author's views, is a stupid, ignorant,
pretending blockhead, and Deacon Graveairs as
stupid and ignorant as himself. The shrewd
Quaker, the honest Justice, and the orthodox well-
informed and perfect Parson, are all friends to old
England's paternal dominion and right of rule
over the colonists. The result is, that all become
converts to the Parson's doctrine. The Barber
says he is "determined to drop" his "shop preach-
ments, or else to take the right side of the ques-
tion," whatever becomes of his custom. The Dea-
con fears that he and his patriotic friends have
been wrong. The Representative begins "to see
things in a different light." The Landlord is glad
he had "nothing to do with these matters." And
the Quaker sums up, or, as the players say, tags
the piece, with "Treason is an odious crime in the
90
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
sight of God and men; may we none of us listen
to the suggestions of Satan; but may the candle
of the Lord within lighten our paths; and may
the Spirit lead us in the way of truth, and pre-
serve us from all sedition, privy conspiracy, and
rebellion."
So much for the politics of the piece; as spe-
cimens of the character and dramatic humour,
take the following. Trim protesting against the
banishment of politics from his shop because they
are a part of his trade, Brim says—“ Why I have
often heard thee holding forth to thy customers
with such apparent zeal against British tyranny
and oppression, that I was verily persuaded thou
wert infected with the epidemical phrensy of the
times.
Trim. Ay, friend Brim, all trades have their
mysteries, and one-half the world live by the fol-
lies of the other half.
Puff. But pray, Mr. Trim, are you such a tory
as to turn all our grievances into scorn and deri-
sion, and only pretend to be a friend to your
country for the sake of a living!
Trim. Why, between you and me and the post,
Mr. Puff, I believe you, when you would be a
representative, and Trim the barber, when he
would get and keep good custom, act upon the
same principles," &c.
Trim elsewhere says "If I was denied the pri-
vilege of my shop to canvass politics, as a body
may say, that is Lord North, East India Com-
THE AMERICANS ROUSED.
91
pany, constitution, charter-rights and privileges,
duties, taxes, and the like o' that, body o' me, sir,
strip me of this darling privilege, and you may
take my razors, soap, combs, and all.”
The parson compares the Americans to the
Jews, who, though placed in the chosen land by
their king, who had "driven out the Canaanites,
the Indians, before them, now vauntingly say, Who
shall be Lord over us?"
Brim wishes the clergyman to teach the truth to
the republicans, for he "seems to be moved to be-
come a light to their feet, and a lamp to their
path.
Trim. Face is the Latin for candle- I am
dumb- Perge domine reverende.'
6
The parson thunders against the ministers who
had used the pulpit to stir up rebellion.
Trim joins in with "As Dryden says,
These lead the path, though not of surest scent,
Yet deepest mouth'd against the government.
And Lilly's grammar ranks them with beasts and
robbers-Bos, fur, sus, atque sacerdos.'-No of-
fence to you, sir.'
""
The author of A Cure for the Spleen was a dra-
matist. And although his work may not strictly
belong to the History of the American Theatre, it
may class with American dramatic literature,
and therefore not be thought out of place here.
Although the best plays are those originally in-
tended for representation, many very excellent
92
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
dramas have been written altogether for the closet,
some to inculcate religious doctrines, some de-
voted to the delineation of passion, and others
merely the sport of poetic imagination. This
American drama was intended to instruct in go-
vernment and politics, and, however mistaken the
author was, and has been proved to be, he pos-
sessed talents for the species of writing which
comes under our consideration of no ordinary kind.
In the centre of the Bowling-Green stood the
pedestal from which his leaden majesty George
the Third had been hurled by his rebellious sub-
jects, and his ponderous effigy and his still more
ponderous horse metamorphosed into bullets, to
repel the blessings which his benevolent govern-
ment would have forced upon them at the point of
the bayonet.
Another statue, though not equestrian, orna-
mented Wall Street, where it crossed by William-
Street, or rather as then named, where Smith
Street and William Street met in Wall Street.
This was a marble representation of Lord Chat-
ham; the hand which had been outstretched to
inforce his eloquence, and the head from whence it
flowed, had been stricken off, whether by the
vulgar partisans of whiggism or toryism, tradition
sayeth not.
The Coffee-house of the city was on the south-
east corner of Wall and Water Streets. A plat-
form of wood occupied the centre of the street,
running from Queen Street to Water Street, and
MILITARY THESPIANS IN NEW-YORK.
93
was called the Coffee-house-bridge. This was the
place for auctioneers, then called vendue-masters,
to cry and sell their wares. Rivington's celebrated
printing-office was at the north-east corner of Wall
and Queen Streets (now Pearl), and his book-store
occupied the lower story of the house, from which
the criers of the newspapers (for then they de-
pended on sale by these hawkers), issued with
yells in every pitch of the human voice, from the
childish treble" to the bassoon sounds of a tall
fellow who roared in tones of thunder, "Bloody
news! bloody news! bloody news! where are the
rebels now?" And he was confident that Riving-
ton had justified his triumphant shout, for every
paper defeated some portion of the rebel army, and
added glory to his majesty's arms.
66
Having been driven from Boston, the warriors
of England triumphantly took possession of the
city and theatre of New-York, such as both have
been described above.
A corps dramatique was formed, and the theatre
in John Street opened on the 25th of January,
1777. The manager for several years and princi-
pal low comedian, was Doctor Beaumont, Surgeon
General of his Majesty's army in America. We
remember his Scrub and Mock Doctor, characters
which, seen a few years afterwards in London, as
performed by Quick and Edwin, appeared, such is
the force of first impressions in early life, very in-
ferior to the representations of the manager-doctor
94
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
of John Street. Col. French played Scrub likewise
with great success.
Women's characters, as in the time of Shak-
speare, were frequently performed by the younger
subalterns of the army, and we have before us the
name of Lieutenant Pennefeather as Estifania, in
the well-known Rule a Wife of Beaumont and
Fletcher. It is to be hoped that the allies of the
English arms, the Mohawks, Senecas, Onondagos,
and other supporters of his majesty's honour, and
asserters of the cause of justice, mercy, and hu-
manity, were ignorant that the warriors of their
great father, George, submitted to the degradation
of the petticoat.
Major Williams, of the Artillery, was the hero
of tragedy, the Richard and Macbeth of the com-
pany, and the heroine bore his name, though not
received as the legal possessor. Her comedy had
great merit.
Mrs. Sullen and Clarinda are par-
ticularly remembered. There were other females
associated with the company, such as had "followed
the drum," and these were paid for their services
at the rate of two, three, and four guineas each
performance. The names of Captain Oliver De-
lancy, 17th Dragoons, Captain Michael Seix, 22d
Foot, Captain Wm. Loftus, Guards, Captain
Edward Bradden, 15th Foot, Lieut. Pennefeather,
Captain Phipps, Captain Stanley, Wm. Hewlet,
and Wm. C. Hewlet are recorded, with that of
Major André, as performing at this time. We re-
1
!
MILITARY THESPIANS IN NEW-YORK.
95
member, besides these, many others, afterwards
known in London, when peace and half-pay had
deprived them of much of the heroic splendour
which surrounded them in the streets and on the
stage of New-York.
The house in John Street was now called the
"Theatre Royal." The play-bills were headed
"Charity," and sometimes "For the benefit of the
Orphans and Widows of Soldiers.”
This company of comedians opened their Theatre
Royal with a prologue, written for the occasion,
and spoken by the author, Captain Stanley, and
limited their efforts the first night to the perform-
ance of Tom Thumb. Their loyal friends applauded
the performer both at the theatres and in the
Royal Gazettes. They had opened the theatre
shut up by the Congress. They possessed humour
and spirit, and proved that "good education and
knowledge of polite life are essentially necessary
to form a good actor"-this was said when the
performers had proved these qualifications only by
playing Tom Thumb. The prologue was pro-
nounced honourable to the "infant muse" of Cap-
tain Stanley; and "the scenes painted by Captain
Delancy," who by-the-by was a manager at this
time, "would not disgrace a theatre under the
management of a Garrick. The house was crowded
with company, and the ladies made a brilliant ap-
pearance." Tickets were advertised to be had of
"David Matthews, Esq. Mayor, Wm. Waddle,
Esq. Alderman, and of the printer, Hugh Gaine,
96
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
at the Bible and Crown." Captain Delancy was a
performer, manager, and scene painter, and Major
André likewise played and painted scenery. Mr.
Wm. Hewlet, at this time a teacher of dancing,
occasionally performed-the reader will recollect
that he joined the real comedians soon after their
emigration to this country, having been sent out
by Wm. Hallam, of Goodman's Fields theatre, in
1753. His son, Wm. C. Hewlet, a remarkably
beautiful youth, occasionally played and danced.
He entered the army as an officer, and soon after
died in the West Indies.
It is not to be forgotten that the profits, arising
from the amusements of these lovers of the drama,
were applied to the relief of sufferers in that incle-
ment season, which prevented the operations of
war, and gave leisure from military duty to these
gentlemen of the army. Neither is this occupation
of a portion of their time, when the idleness of a
garrison might have induced more pernicious em-
ployment of leisure hours than studying the poets
or reciting them, to be severely, if at all, censured.
It is not to be compared with the folly of those
young men who neglect their education or the
sober pursuits destined for them by their parents,
to associate clandestinely for the purpose of acting
plays, who enter into expenses which may lead to
crime for their support, and, in consequence of the
applause bestowed upon their performances by
their ignorant auditors, are led to abandon the
pursuits intended to lead them to honour, and to
CHARITABLE MOTIVES OF THE MILITARY ACTORS. 97
embrace a profession as full of hazards as of dif-
ficulty; a profession stigmatized, whether justly
or not, is not now the question, as one not con-
genial to the habits of ordinary life. These mi-
litary men were engaged in a profession which the
world has chosen to honour, and their associating
together and imitating players was not considered
derogatory, neither did it lead to an abandonment
of the road they had chosen for their path to for-
tune or fame. They had, as observed, the further
inducement for preferring this amusement to others,
that the result relieved the miseries which war and
winter inflicted on the poor.
The following notice appeared upon the play-
bill of Feb. 10th, 1777: "The gentlemen concerned
in the above charity give notice, that they have
lodged one hundred pounds with Doctor Morris,
treasurer to the charity, for the purpose of giving
such immediate relief to widows and orphans of
soldiers who, by certificates from commanding
officers of corps, appear to be proper objects." It
is recorded that the expence of a night's perform-
ance was £80, or 200 dollars. And further, that
Captain Madden was famous as Papillon and the
Copper Captain, Captain Loftus as Young Wilding
and Archer, Captain Delancy as Boniface, and
Lieutenant Pennefeather as Estifania, in Rule a
Wife and have a Wife.
On the 6th of January, 1778, the Theatre Royal
was opened with Douglas and The Apprentice.
Gaine's Mercury of the 12th says, the audience
VOL. I.
H
98
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
was a crowded one, and the play was received with
universal applause. The following prologue was
written for the opening, and spoken on the oc-
casion:
Now that hoar winter o'er the frozen plain
Has spread the terrors of his dreary reign,
Has bade awhile the din of battle cease,
And mock these regions with the mask of peace,
Once more the Scenic Muse exerts her power,
And claims her portion of the leisure hour.
To prompt the laugh, the brow of care to smooth,
(And this sad land has cares enough to sooth)
To wake to pity, and with soft control
Melt into tender sympathy the soul;
Vice to discourage, or, with bolder aim,
Rouse to high deeds and point the way to fame;
These are the ends which from the earliest age
Have been the boast and object of the stage.
We have a nobler purpose still in view,
A tribute to our falling comrades' due;
From us their helpless infants shall be fed,
And fainting misery receive its bread.
O Britons! (and your generous thirst of fame
Has fully proved you worthy of the name),
Though scowling faction's interested band
At home asperse us, and with envious hand
Our well earn'd laurels tear, the public weal
Bids us not murmur, whatsoe'er we feel;
But, to those honour'd names, whose free applause
Rewards the champions of their country's cause,
Whose generous breasts feel for each soldier slain,
Nor suffer blood so shed to flow in vain ;
Whose liberal hand allays the widow's grief,
And to her starving babes affords relief;
To those whose bounty thus our toil repays,
O friends! withhold not the full meed of praise;
Their fair example bade our stage arise,
Blest be th' amusement which relief supplies
To infant wretchedness, to widow'd age,
And the maim'd victim of the battle's rage.
FIRST REHEARSAL OF DOUGLAS.
With you for judges, and such views as these,
(Although with anxious care and wish to please)
No fears distress us. To secure applause,
We'll plead no other merit than our cause.
99
This prologue is not unworthy of preceding the
first appearance of Home's excellent tragedy in
America. The author is unknown.
We insert the following curious account of the
first rehearsal of the tragedy of Douglas, taken
from the Edinburgh Evening Post.
It may not be generally known that the first rehearsal of this
tragedy took place in the lodgings in the Canongate occupied by Mrs.
Sarah Ward, one of Diggs' company; and that it was rehearsed by,
and in the presence of, the most distinguished characters Scotland
could ever boast of. The following was the cast of the piece on that
occasion.
Lord Randolph,
Glenalvon,
Old Norval,
Douglas,
Lady Randolph,
Anna (maid),
Doctor Robertson, Principal, Edinburgh.
David Hume, Historian.
Doctor Carlyle, Minister of Musselburg.
John Home, the Author.
Doctor Ferguson, Professor.
Doctor Blair, Minister, high church.
The audience that day, besides Mrs. Diggs and Mrs. Sarah Ward,
were the Right Honourable Lord Wilbank, Lord Milton, Lord Kaimes,
Lord Monboddo (the two last were then only lawyers), the Rev. John
Steel, and William Home, ministers. The company (all but Mrs.
Ward) dined afterwards at the Griskin Club, in the Abbey.
The above is a signal proof of the strong passion for the drama
which then obtained among the literati of this capital; since then,
unfortunately, much abated. The rehearsal must have been con-
ducted with very great secrecy; for what would the Kirk, which took
such deep offence at the composition of the piece by one of its minis-
ters, have said to the fact of no less than four of these being engaged
in rehearsing it, and two others attending the exhibition? The cir-
cumstance of the gentle Anna having been personated by Doctor
Blair, minister of the high church, is a very droll one.
H. 2
or M
I
100
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
Cumberland's West Indian was first played in
America, on the 15th of January, 1778. The house
was so thronged as to exclude numbers who had
purchased tickets. The receipts amounted to £310,
or 776 dollars. Both the new plays, Douglas and
The West Indian, were seen by the writer as repre-
sented by these performers. The Lady Randolph of
Mrs. Siddons is the only image of that character re-
maining on the tablets of his memory, but the mili-
tary Major O'Flaherty shares with the original
Moody, and with John Henry, in making the pic-
ture of the best Irish gentleman belonging to the
stage.
On the 27th of March, the tragedy of Othello was
announced for performance. Major Moncrieff, of
the Engineers, was the Othello, and from the fol-
lowing extract we may gather that the major had
performed for his amusement, before the war, with
the company of Douglass in New-York. "The
The gen-
tleman who it is said is to appear in Othello (Major
Moncrieff, of the Engineers) is eminent in tragedy,
and has figured much to his reputation in that dis-
tinguished part some years ago in this city, to a
crowded audience, and therefore much may be ex-
pected from his talents for the charitable purpose
which occasions his intended appearance."
The theatre was announced to be closed on the
11th of May, but, says a bill of a later date, "The
managers and gentlemen of the theatre, from a
sense of the distress of those poor persons who did
Maou
MILITARY PERFORMERS.
101
not fall within their original design, propose to give
a play for that purpose, and accordingly, on Wed-
nesday evening (May 20th), will be presented, The
Recruiting Officer, with a farce called The Miller
of Mansfield."
To some it may be interesting to have the names
of the managers and performers for charity's sake,
at the Theatre Royal, New-York, in 1778. Col.
Guy Johnson, and Doctor Hammond Beaumont,
managers—the latter a performer as Iago-Hecate
-Lovegold—Scrub-Mock Doctor. Major Edward
Williams (Artillery) Richard-Macbeth. Captain
Stephen Payne Adye (Artillery and Judge Advo-
cate) King Henry the Sixth. Major John André
(Guards and Adjutant General). Captain Wm.
Fawcet (Guards). Captain McDonell (71st Foot).
Major O'Flaherty, Ranger-Douglas. Captain
Hardenbrook (Provincials), Belcour. Lieutenant
Le Grange (Provincials). Captain Thomas Shreve
(Provincials), Duke of Venice-Lord Mayor-Free-
man. Major Lowther Pennington (Guards), Othello.
Lieutenant Butler (8th Foot), Stockwell. Major
Moncrieff (Engineers), Othello. Lieutenant Spen-
cer, of the Queen's Rangers. This gentleman play-
ed Richard the Third at Bath in 1785, and the next
day he was thus noticed in one of the papers: "The
debutant of last night has long been known as an
excellent player—at billiards.”
As the officers had musicians at hand in their
regimental bands, the orchestra was better filled
than in the times of the real players. They had
督
​ì..
102
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
fourteen performers at a dollar the night. Their
scenery is said to have been wretched, their
dresses elegant.
Notwithstanding this general censure of the
scenery, we remember the usual variety-streets-
woods and wilds-chambers and palaces. It has
likewise been confidently asserted that Major André
was expert at the brush. The scene department
was likewise assisted by Mr. Thomas Barrow, origi-
nally a coach-painter, and for many years the only
dealer in engravings known in New-York. Mr.
Barrow had taste and knowledge in the art of
design.
When the British army took possession of Phila-
delphia, the theatre in Southwark was opened and
supported as that in John Street continued to be.
Major André and Captain Delancy were the scene-
painters here also, and it is recorded that a drop-
curtain, painted by the first, continued to be used
as long as the house stood.
In addition to their amusements at the theatre,
the military gentlemen of this gay and chivalrous
army got up with great splendour an entertain-
ment which they called a Maschienza, a mixture of
Ball, Masquerade, and Tournament, which does not
fall within our limits, and for an account of which
we refer the reader to Watson's Antiquarian Re-
searches.
In Gaine's Mercury of Nov. 15th, 1779, appeared
this advertisement: "Theatre Royal. Such ladies.
as are duly qualified, and inclined to perform on the
SURRENDER OF NEW-YORK.
103
stage during the course of the ensuing winter, will
please to send in their proposals, sealed and direct-
ed to the managers, to be left at Mr. Rivington's."
The office of prompter, so essential in a theatre,
was filled by Mr. Hemsworth, who occasionally
played; he was not an officer, and for his benefit a
play was occasionally performed, otherwise, bene-
fits could not be a part of the dramatic arrange-
ment, where all was for the benefit of the poor.
From Nov. 13th, 1780, to June 11th, 1781, the
theatre was kept open, but as the efforts of the mana-
gers of the great military drama became languid,
so the ardour for the stage declined; and the thea-
tre was abandoned by the military occupants be-
fore the town was surrendered to the man who had
been their constant attendant, and sometimes rather
an interruption to their sports, from the period of
the blockade of Boston to the final sinking of the
English flag, on the 25th of November, 1783.
CHAPTER V.
The American Company received coldly on its Return
Hallam
–
commences playing first in Philadelphia, then in New-York
Henry, Wignell, and others, join Hallam - Hamlet first played-
Celebrated Players of the Character School for Scandal — Poor
Soldier Certificates first Issued-First Theatre in Baltimore
-Richmond Hallam and Henry open the Philadelphia Thea-
tre-Debate in Pennsylvania Legislature - Second Theatre in
Charleston.
WITH peace returned the players by profession, but
not the whole company. Hallam arrived first, with
a weak detachment, as if to gain a footing in the
New Republic. Philadelphia was the place chosen
at which to effect a landing, but the people received
the runaways with frowns.
When our enlightened and beneficent ancestors,
Hampden, Pym, Vane, Milton, and their glorious
companions, raised the standard of humanity
against that of ignorance and oppression, and put
to flight the dramatic Muse by the clang of the
trumpet and thunder of the war-horse, her re-
tainers, being the king's servants, exchanged the
mock truncheon and the foil of the green-room and
the stage for real command and pointed weapons,
in the ranks of their royal master; but it does not
appear that
any of the stage heroes of the Ameri-
can company became leaders or followers in the
THEATRE OPENED IN PHILADELPHIA.
105
regiments of George the Third. They seem to have
gained a safe distance from the scene of strife, when
our more recent patriots defied and put to flight
the standard and adherents of monarchy, and,
having seen the stage on which the contending
parties had been playing a tragedy of ten acts
cleared by the retreat of the royalists, they crept
from their hiding-places and approached warily to
the land in which they felt that they had no part or
portion as partakers in its dangers, its sufferings,
or its glories. The republicans received them at
first with coldness, and many would have willingly
continued the prohibition of stage-plays which the
caution of the first Continental Congress had so
effectually recommended.
The theatre in Southwark was opened by Hal-
lam, assisted by Mr. Allen, on the 11th of March,
1785. The Pennsylvania Mercury praises their en-
tertainments, and expresses the hope" that Shaks-
peare, Addison, and Young, may be permitted once
more to enforce on our citizens the love of virtue,
liberty, and morality." It is added, that these
gentlemen, the players, had presented to the poor
of the city one hundred pounds, from the profits of
their exhibitions.
The Legislature of Pennsylvania was in session
at this time; and after the players had retired to
New-York, a debate took place on the subject of
prohibiting a theatre, which, as it may stand for a
fair specimen of the opinions for and against the
drama at this period, shall be laid before the reader
106
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
in a brief abstract, before we accompany the Thes-
pians to John Street.
66
A motion was made to add a clause to a bill be-
fore the house for suppressing vice and immorality.
This clause prohibited the erecting of any “ play-
house, stage, or scaffold," for the purpose of acting
any kind of dramatic work, enumerating them,
from the tragedy to the pantomime, and fined all
persons concerned in or abetting in any manner
such immoral practices.
In the debate that followed, Gen. Wayne, the
hero of Stoneypoint, was the first speaker. He
hoped that the theatre would not be mentioned in
a bill for suppressing vice and immorality. He
asserted that a well regulated theatre was univer-
sally acknowledged to be an efficient engine for the
improvement of morals.
Doctor Logan thought that theatres were only
fit for monarchies. He said the government of
Geneva prohibited a theatre in that republic as
inimical to their liberties; that the kings of France
and Sardinia had endeavoured to establish a thea-
tre in Geneva to subvert the republic. He how-
ever added, “if we had a theatre under proper
regulations, where no plays should be exhibited
but those calculated to expose vice or recommend
virtue, I should have no objection."
Mr. Robert Morris, one of the greatest of our
statesmen, and the ablest of financiers, boldly de-
clared himself a friend to the theatre, as affording
a rational, instructive, and innocent amusement.
DEBATE ON THE THEATRE.
107
"As to the effect of the theatre on morals and
manners, I hold it, "said he, "to be favourable to
both.'
Mr. Clymer, in favour of the drama, argued that,
say or do what we would, a theatre would be
forced upon us; it is a concomitant of an indepen-
dent state. No civilized state is without it." He
contended that it served to refine and purify man-
ners. "Are we for ever," said he, "to be indebted
to other nations for genius, wit, and refinement?"
Mr. Fitzsimmons wished the question of the
utility of a theatre to be fully discussed.
Mr. Whitehill, the mover of the clause, avowed
his opinion that no regulation could prevent the
vice and immorality of a theatre, and said he would
oppose the establishment of one in the state of
Pennsylvania.
Mr. Smiley thought that by drawing the minds
of the people to amusements, they were led to for-
get their political duties. "Cardinal Mazarine,"
he said, "established the Academy of Arts and
Sciences in France with this view." He avowed
himself "no friend to the fine arts," and asserted
that "they only flourished when states were on the
decline."
The last mentioned speaker has at least the
merit of consistency. He had sagacity enough to
perceive that the fine arts were all connected, and
must stand or fall together, and he knew that the
drama was one of the number. He placed the
theatre where it should be; for if the drama is in-
108
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
jurious to a state, so are literature and the arts.
His last assertion was the fruit of ignorance in the
history of nations. He honestly confounded the
abuse of things with the things themselves. What
has been so abused to the purposes of evil as the
press? What is so precious to man?
Mr. Finley saw in a theatre regulated by govern-
ment "a dangerous" tool in its hands, forgetting
that the people who created the ministers of go-
vernment were the judges of the representations
brought on the stage, and that such an engine in
the hands of government would be jealously watch-
ed by the people. A theatre directed by govern-
ment would be attended by the best citizens; they
would guarantee the purity of this source of in-
struction and delight, and the political impulse
given must always accord with the opinion of the
public; so must the laws of a state, or they become
nugatory. Mr. Finley concluded that the stage
vitiated taste by representing unreal characters.
Mr. Clymer, in reply, said, that "if the pieces re-
presented are not immoral, the stage cannot be
immoral." He asserted that, as the people of Eu-
rope had progressed in civilization and refinement,
their plays had improved in purity.
Mr. Robert Morris asserted that all celebrated
nations had "permitted the establishment of thea-
tres, and that they had improved the manners of
the people. The writers for the theatre have ge-
nerally been men of extensive genius." He thought
the lessons given to vice and folly salutary. He
DEBATE ON THE THEATRE.
109
hoped to see American poets suiting plays to our
times, characters, and circumstances. "The taste
and manners of a people," he said, "regulate the
theatre; and the theatre has a reciprocal effect on
the public taste and manners."
General Wayne said he thought the prohibition
of plays during the war, by Congress, was an ill-
judged measure, as plays might have been re-
presented that would have stimulated to heroic
actions. "A theatre," he said, "in the hands of
a republican government, regulated and directed
by such, would be, instead of a dangerous instru-
ment, a happy and efficient one."
Mr. Whitehill, in reply, repeated his opinion that
the establishment of a theatre tended "directly to
the encouragement of licentiousness."
Mr. Robert Morris, after some further remarks
in favour of the stage, concluded by saying, “in
such large societies as are common in cities like
this, people will find out amusements for them-
selves unless government do it." He expressed
his belief as before, that a regulated theatre im-
proved morals.
Mr. Robinson argued against the theatre, from
the bad tendency of many plays.
Mr. Smiley thought that the plays now in exis-
tence were in general unfit for our state of society.
Mr. Finley opposed fiction, and brought ex-
amples of plays inculcating immorality.
General Wayne proposed that all plays pre-
vious to performance should be submitted to the
-
110
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
executive council, who would be responsible to the
people.
Mr. Clymer exposed that ignorance which as-
serted that the fine arts only flourished under
despotism, or in the decline of liberty. He said,
Virgil and Horace were men before the republic
was overthrown, and in Greece there was not a
single author of eminence after the fall of repub-
licanism. The clause which prohibited the drama,
as being one of the sources of vice and immorality,
was rejected.
After his attempt upon Philadelphia, Hallam,
with his feeble band, effected a lodgment in the
theatre of New-York, of which he was now the
principal if not the sole proprietor, and advertised
a course of lectures, to begin with a prologue and
terminate with a pantomime; the music to be
selected and composed by Mr. Bentley. This was
August 24, 1785.
They continued this skirmishing with farces and
pantomimes until 24th October, when they came
out boldly with a play and afterpiece.
The first play performed in the United States
under the protection of the flag, called proudly by
Americans the Star-spangled Banner, and in deri-
sion by England the piece of striped bunting, was
The Countess of Salisbury; the afterpiece, The
Ghost. The names in this feeble company were
Hallam, Moore, Bentley, Lake, Allen, Durang,
Mrs. Allen, and Miss Durang; the first alone pos-
sessing the skill of an artist in his profession. He
CHARITABLE DONATION REFUSED.
111
was in this short campaign the hero of tragedy
and comedy, the low comedian of farce, and the
harlequin of pantomime. They closed the house
on the 24th of October.
But the Star-spangled Banner could not protect
a man from the censure of the magistrates in the
enlightened city of New-York, for daring to invite
the people of a free republic to hear recitations or
lectures, or the works of the poet who had devoted
himself to the tragic or the comic Muse, as the
following document proves:
At a meeting of the Common Council, held in the city of New-
York, at the City-Hall, on Friday, the 14th of October, 1785, pre-
sent James Duane, mayor, Richard Varick, recorder, &c. &c.
"Whereas it has been represented to this board, in behalf of Mr.
Lawrence Embree, one of the commissioners of the alms house, that
the company of comedians in this city, some time since, presented
him with forty pounds for the use of the poor; that, as he disapproved
of a donation so circumstanced, he thought it his duty to suffer it to
be deposited with him until the sense of the magistrates respecting
the same could be obtained." Whereupon the board came to the fol-
lowing resolutions :
That it appears that the play-house was opened by said come-
dians without licence or permission of the civil authority; which in
the opinion of this board is a thing unprecedented and offensive.
That while so great a part of this city still lies in ruins, and many of
the citizens continue to be pressed with the distresses brought on
them in consequence of the late war, there is a loud call for industry
and economy; and it would in a particular manner be unjustifiable in
this corporation to countenance enticing and expensive amusements;
that among these a play-house, however regulated, must be num-
bered, when under no restraint it may prove a fruitful source of dis-
sipation, immorality, and vice. That the acceptance of the said
donation by the order of this board might authorize a conclusion that
they approved of the opening of said theatre, and that therefore
it be and it hereby is recommended to Mr. Embree to return the
same to the person from whom he received it.
112
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
We personally knew and highly respect the
memories of the persons here named. Mr. Embree,
doubtless, acted by the guidance of the sect he
belonged to, or the direction of the quarterly meet-
ing of Friends. The names of Duane and Varick
are unsullied. But the errors or prejudices of the
best have no claim to respect. A few days after-
wards, a writer in Oswald's Journal ironically
praises the wisdom of the city magistrates for dis-
countenancing the theatre, and preferring the
licensing tippling-shops, they being harmless and
yielding a revenue unpolluted by its source. This
writer in the Journal takes it for granted that the
Common Council sent from their own pockets the
hundred dollars to the poor, which they so wisely
prevented them from receiving as a donation from
a playhouse.
We have seen that Douglass, under the govern-
ment of the king's officers, had committed the
same oversight that Hallam now suffered for. He
opened a theatre without having "boo'd to the
gowden calves" in office. He suffered for it, and
had to kneel to the delegates of majesty. Hallam
perhaps thought that times, and things, and
opinions, and therefore magistrates, had changed.
He forgot that man only changes as he becomes
individually enlightened. The ignorant are the
same at all times, and the office-holder ever prone
to the assumption of airs of superiority. The suc-
cessors of King George's minions could not think
themselves of less importance than their predeces-
OPENING OF THE NEW-YORK THEATRE. 113
sors. Official dignity was offended. These players
"without license or permission" had opened a
play-house," a thing in the opinion of this board
unprecedented." Where did they look for prece-
dents that made it necessary to obtain such
license? To the government which their wiser
countrymen had overthrown, because it shackled
the mind of man and bowed him to assumed
superiority?
On the 21st of November, 1785, the New-York
theatre was opened in form, under the manage-
ment of Hallam and Henry. Mrs. Douglass, Hal-
lam's mother, had been some time dead; Douglass
remained in the island of Jamaica, where he played
the part in real life of one of his Britannic majesty's
judges. He relinquished the sceptre of the Ame-
rican company to Hallam, who received for the
partner of his throne Mr. John Henry. Did the
monarchs obtain permission to "strut their hour?"
The company consisted of the managers, who
were at the head both by their dignified office and
their merit as actors, and of Messrs. Wignell, Har-
per, Morris, Biddle, Wools, Lake, and Durang;
Mesdames Morris, Harper, Miss Tuke, Miss Du-
rang, and occasionally Miss Storer (soon after-
wards Mrs. Henry). Hallam, Henry, Wignell,
Morris, and Wools, were sharers or proprietors
the remainder were salaried. The motto over the
stage was "Quicquid agunt homines."
The Royal Gazette, conducted during the war
of the Revolution with great spirit and unbounded
VOL. I.
I
114
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
devotion to the cause of Britain, had now passed
from the hands of James Rivington into those of
Archibald Mc Lean, under the title of the Inde-
pendent Journal. In this journal we find it stated
that on Monday evening, January 16th, 1786, Mr.
Hallam made his first appearance in the aiduous
character of Hamlet.
This glorious emanation from the genius of the
greatest poet and the most consummate searcher
into the human heart which the world has known,
although mentioned in the list of plays cast by
Hallam's uncle before the company left London
in 1752, may not, and probably was not, until this
date, attempted on the stage in America. The
play is difficult in the performance in proportion
to the subtle, metaphysical, and philosophical cha-
racter of its plot and dialogue. The part of Ham-
let is the bow of Ulysses to the actor. We do not
find the play mentioned in the records of the Ame-
rican company previously to this time, and although
the officers of the English army figured as
Richards, Macbeths, and Othellos, all far above
their reach, none attempted the philosophic, uni-
versity-bred Prince of Denmark.
There is reason to believe, that Betterton was
the first true personator of Hamlet; and even Bet-
terton, though instructed by Davenant, who had
seen the original representative as taught by
Shakspeare, though replete with talent and judg-
ment, must have been, in that part of the picture
which depends on costume, miserably deficient.
HAMLET.
115
We have Cibber's testimony in favour of the Ham-
let of Betterton, and on such subjects the poet
laureate is good authority. "You have seen,
he says, "a Hamlet perhaps, who on the first ap-
pearance of his father's spirit has thrown himself
into all the straining vociferation requisite to ex-
press rage and fury, and the house has thundered
with applause, though the misguided actor was
all the while, as Shakspeare terms it, 'tearing a
passion into rags'. I am the more bold to offer
you this particular instance, because the late Mr.
Addison, while I sat by him to see the scene acted,
made the same observation, asking me with some
surprise if I thought Hamlet 'should be in so vio-
lent a passion with the ghost, which, though it
might have astonished, had not provoked him, for
you may have observed that in his beautiful speech
the passion never rises beyond an almost breath-
less astonishment, or an impatience limited by filial
reverence to inquire into the suspected wrongs
that may have raised him from his peaceful tomb,
and a desire to know what a spirit so seemingly
distressed might wish to enjoin a sorrowful son to
execute towards his future quiet in the grave.'
This was the light in which Betterton threw this
scene, which he opened with a pause of mute
amazement; then rising slowly to a solemn trem-
bling of the voice, he made the ghost equally ter-
rible to the spectator as to himself." Another
author has said of this actor "that his counte-
I 2
116
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
nance, naturally ruddy and sanguine, in the scene
of the third act where his father's ghost appears,
through the violent and sudden emotion of amaze-
ment and horror, turned instantly on the sight of
his father's spirit as pale as his neckcloth, when
his whole body seemed to be affected with a tre-
mour inexpressible, so that, had his father's ghost
actually risen before him, he could not have been
seized with more real agonies; and this was felt so
strongly by the audience, that the blood seemed to
shudder in their veins likewise, and they in some
measure partook of the astonishment and hor-
ror with which they saw this excellent actor af-
fected."
Those who are familiar with the costume of
Hamlet, as first introduced among us by Cooper,
and that represented by Lawrence in his picture of
Kemble, will see in the "neckcloth" of Betterton,
and the wig, and other most unpoetical and most
inappropriate parts of dress which we know he
wore, that he had not those accessories to help the
illusion of the scene which actors since have en-
joyed, who do not produce the "astonishment and
horror" in the audience which Betterton effected.
Betterton flourished from 1665 to 1700.
Wilks, a contemporary with Betterton, gained
credit in other portions of the varied character of
Hamlet, particularly his reproaches to his mother,
and the pathos of his exclamation, "Mother, for
the love of grace."
1
HAMLET FIRST PLAYED IN AMERICA.
117
When Garrick had left Goodman's Fields Thea-
tre, the nursery from which afterwards the Hal-
lams issued, he became the representative of Ham-
let, and the same receding of colour from the face,
and other symptoms of real horror and astonish-
ment recorded of Betterton, are described as
having the same effect upon his auditors. All will
recollect Fielding's compliment put into the mouth
of Partridge in Tom Jones. It is said that the line
"I have that within which passeth show," was
made so impressive by his manner as never to be
forgotten by the hearers.
Lewis Hallam the second, whose representation
of Hamlet has occasioned the above remarks,
might have seen Garrick's Hamlet, as it will be
remembered that he went from Annapolis to Lon-
don in the summer of 1774, and Garrick, although
declining and diseased, continued playing until the
10th of June, 1776. Certainly Hallam attempted
the part at Covent Garden, and made no impres-
sion on the audience of that theatre of strength
sufficient to induce an engagement.
We now, at the period to which our history of
the American Theatre has been brought down, find
the Independent Journal thus speaking of the first
representation of Hamlet. "Mr. Hallam was re-
ceived with that kindness and eclat which has been
shown to him for these last thirty years." In the
course of the performance the managers restored
the scene of the grave-diggers, which, says the
118
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
same paper, “had been discontinued of late years,
from whim, by the late Mr. Garrick." Mr. Henry,
who played the ghost, appeared in royal robes in
the closet scene, taking the idea from the excla-
mation of young Hamlet,
My father in his habit as he lived.
“This alteration," says the critic, "was much ap-
proved, and more especially as this was the first
time it had been noticed on the stage."
The scene of the grave-diggers had been restored
to the London stage long before, and it will be re-
membered that it is in that scene Lawrence has
represented Kemble moralizing on the skull of
Yorick.
On the 14th of March, Miss Storer made her
first appearance as Nysa in the burletta of Midas;
and in June, Oswald's Journal speaks with enthu-
siasm of the delight received from her perform-
ance in The Maid of the Mill.
May 10th, The Busy Body and Rosing were
performed for the benefit of the "distressed pri-
soners confined in the jail for debt." The sum of
one hundred dollars was raised and paid to the
sheriff.
The company was strengthened by the arrival
from London of Mr. and Mrs. Kenna, Mr. J.
Kenna, and Miss Kenna. Mrs. Kenna made her
debut in Isabella and her husband in Lissardo.
Soon after the benefits commenced, and Miss M.
THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL.
119
Storer, who had not before appeared, played on the
29th of May, for Henry's benefit, being announced
as "a gentlewoman." She chose Patty in The
Maid of the Mill, and Daphne in Daphne and Amin-
tor, for her opening characters, and afterwards for
the benefit of Wools she played Rosetta in Love
in a Village, and the Lady in Comus, probably
the first time Milton spoke from the stage in the
New World.
66
Sheridan and O'Keefe came before the American
public for the first time this theatrical season.
The School for Scandal, The Duenna, and The Poor
Soldier, took their stand on the boards never to be
removed. Wignell's Joseph Surface and Darby,
Henry's Sir Peter Teazle and Patrick, are still re-
membered with pleasure after the lapse of nearly
half a century. The first issuing of certificates
for places in the boxes may be traced to the fol-
lowing notice. Theatre. The public are re-
spectfully informed, that on account of a number
of complaints relative to unfair preference in
boxes, many of which have been lately taken with-
out being occupied, the managers, ever ready to
show their attention to the accommodation of their
friends and patrons, have adopted a mode to pre-
vent any similar infringement in future by having
tickets for the night, which will be delivered by
the box-keeper, on payment, to the gentlemen
taking boxes, with the number of places parti-
cularized; a measure which they flatter themselves
120
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
will meet with general approbation. Hallam and
Henry."
The friends and enemies of the drama continued
their paper warfare during the whole time of the
company's now performing in New-York. A whig
attacks theatrical exhibitions in Loudon's New-
York Packet of September 29th. Moralitas an-
swers him. Some months after a memorial was
presented to the legislature of New-York, praying
the suppression of the theatre, and this was met
by a counter-memorial.
It appears from a publication in Loudon's New-
York Packet, that the clergy of the city went so
far as to attack the stage from the pulpit, and so
far inflamed a portion of their hearers, who doubt-
less thought themselves pious people, that they
threatened to pull down the theatre. Some of
these "well-meaning people," fortunately for them-
selves, consulted their spiritual agitators, and they
prudently advised them to petition the legislature
then sitting to put down the theatre before they
took upon themselves to pull it down. The clergy
of the city are praised for having kindled this
flame, and praised for setting bounds to it. Their
forbearing to sanction the destruction of other peo-
ple's property and jeopardizing the lives of their
fellow-citizens shows a memorable degree of meek-
ness and self-command. The writer (Impartialis)
praises the clergy for opposing an institution which
had been denounced by "the pious and learned in
PETITION FOR THE SUPPRESSION OF THEATRES. 121
every age of the church." Besides, the clergy of
the city "were whigs," and did not, as the players
had done, run away to Jamaica, and leave others
to fight the battles of the country. They battled
from the pulpit, "drum ecclesiastic." This argu-
ment would have shut up or pulled down the Epis-
copal churches, whose orators had not indeed run
away to Jamaica, but had prayed and preached
most loyally for King George, and for the over-
throw of those in arms against him. The Rev.
Doctor Beach and Doctor Provost were exceptions.
The memorial mentioned above was presented
to the legislature in April. It prayed for a law,
or amendment in existing laws, to put down ta-
verns, infamous houses, sabbath-breakers, profane
swearers, and the theatre. The memorialists
assert that the stage has been opposed "by the
wisest and best men, both heathens and Chris-
tians." They assert its enmity to the interests of
religion, and its influence in causing "a scarcity
of cash," and finally pray for an amendment of the
laws against profaneness and immorality, and the
suppression of the theatre." This memorial was
signed by seven hundred names.
The counter-memorialists were brief and mo-
derate. They only petitioned that the legislature
may not be misled by the first petition, and sup-
pose that the citizens wished to suppress the the-
atre. They say "that they consider the institution
in question as a source of innocent and rational
122
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
entertainment, not more exceptionable in moral or
political respects than any other species of public
amusement, and affording advantages to which
no other can pretend." They further observe,
that, if the exhibitions are contrary to good morals
as alleged, they are amenable to the ordinary
course of law; if they are not immoral, the inter-
ference of the legislature would deprive the citi-
zens of that which they wished, and which had
been approved of by great and enlightened minds.”
Signed by fourteen hundred names.
The opponents of the theatre published an ex-
tract from Josiah Quincey's Journal, dated May
11th, 1773, with which we will dismiss the subject
for the present. "Went to the playhouse in the
evening, saw The Gamester and Padlock performed.
The players made an indifferent figure in tragedy.
They make a much better in comedy. Hallam
has merit in every character he acts. Mr. Wools,
in the character of Don Diego, and Mrs. Morris
(the first Mrs. Morris) in that of Ursula, I thought,
acted superlatively. I was however much grati-
fied upon the whole, and I believe if I had staid in
town (New-York) a month, I should go to the the-
atre every acting night. But, as a citizen and
friend to the morals and happiness of society, I
should strive hard against the admission, and
much more the establishment, of a play-house in
any state of which I was a member." This
This gen-
tleman afterwards, on seeing The Beggars' Opera
NEW THEATRE IN CHARLESTON.
123
in London says, "The stage is the nursery of vice,
and disseminates the seeds far and wide with an
amazing and baneful effect."
It would have been well if this distinguished
patriot had given us facts, or any mode of de-
vising how he draws such conclusions from such
premises. The Gamester or Padlock, particularly
the first, one would suppose could not warrant the
estimate he forms of the stage. He was delighted,
and surely could not have been made worse.
Beggars' Opera has been censured, but the mind
that could be injured by such a piece of satire must
be weak indeed. Even if the pieces were in fault,
it is no argument against a theatre any more than
a vile book is against the press.
The
In the Independent Journal of August 5th, 1786,
is found this notice of the second theatre in Char-
leston, South Carolina. "We hear from Charleston,
S. C. that a principal merchant of that city, and a
Mr. Goodwin, comedian, have leased a lot of land
for five years, and have erected a building called
Harmony Hall, for the purpose of music meetings,
dancing, and theatrical amusements. It is situated
in a spacious garden in the suburbs of the city.
The boxes are 22 in number, with a key to each
box. The pit is very large, and the theatrum and
orchestra elegant and commodious. It was opened
with a grand concert of music gratis, for the satis-
faction of the principal inhabitants, who wished to
see it previous to the first night's exhibition. The
above building has cost £500 sterling. Salaries
124
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
from 2 to 5 guineas per week, and a benefit night
every nine months, is offered to good performers."
While the company were in New-York, the
managers caused a theatre to be erected in Balti-
more, now rising to overshadow Annapolis, and on
the 16th of August, 1786, the first play-house was
opened in that city. This was a new soil for the
players to cultivate, and their harvest was pro-
portionably great. Their southern friends received
them with smiles, and they continued their efforts
in the new theatre of Maryland until the beginning
of October, when they proceeded to Richmond,
which had now become the rising sun of Virginia,
and our histrionics appear to shun the sinking
towns as naturally as rats fly foundering ships.
From Richmond, after playing a short time, the
company in full force removed to Philadelphia, and
again took their old stand in the theatre of South-
wark, where the unfortunate André had left, as a
memorial of his taste, a drop-curtain, which was
used for several years after the melancholy ter-
mination of the last tragedy he performed in.
CHAPTER VI.
Reflections on the Drama-Plan for its improvement and that of the
Professors of the Histrionic Art-The Contrast, a Comedy—
Prince of Parthia and Mercenary Match, Tragedies-May-day,
Farce-Mrs. Henry and her Sisters-Harper-Doctors' Mob.
We have now arrived at an era at which our li-
terature begins to be more distinct, more national,
more diverging in character, from that of our an-
cestors or brethren of England, and it may be
chosen as a point in our theatrical history, con-
venient and proper for some reflections on the past
and present character of the drama, its influence
on society, and its capabilities of improvement.
There are no people on earth who have advanced
the least step towards civilization, who have not
had their public amusements. These may be pure-
ly for relaxation from weightier employment, or
for instruction conveyed through such means as
tend to delight at the moment they exalt and im-
prove. Mankind, when congregated for the pur-
poses of innocent pleasure, or the higher purposes
of receiving lessons in life, morals, or religion, are,
by the sympathy of such association, more firmly
bound and knit together in the kindlier feelings of
our common nature. The merely meeting together
for the same purpose, if that purpose is not evil,
tends to good.
126
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
If we look back upon the history of nations, we
shall find that their amusements mark the progress
or degree of civilization they had attained at any
one period, and their advancement in all that en-
nobles our nature, or the retrograde movement,
the falling off, towards darkness and barbarism.
When Greece was at the pinnacle of her refine-
ment, we see her citizens congregated at her pub-
lic games, attracted by, and united in, manly
exercises, listening to the recitations of poets, wit-
nessing the exhibitions of sculpture and painting,
or the representations of the dramatic works of
Eschylus, Aristophanes, or Sophocles. Rome, civi-
lized by those she had conquered, never attained
so high a point on the scale of mental elevation;
she turned from the theatre to the circus, became
enamoured of blood while viewing spectacles of
triumph, captives in chains devoted to massacre,
brutes striving with brutes or men, and men train-
ed to the slaughter of each other for the amusement
of a population devoted by such amusements to
slavery and every debasing vice, until a new
source of light should arise and dispel the moral
darkness. Thus the knowledge and refinement of
Greece is marked by her drama, the decline of both
in Rome by her gladiatorial shows.
The ages of chivalry are marked by the amuse-
ment of the tournament, a step forward again in
civilization; and the song of the minstrel, and the
rude drama of the mystery, mark another step in
the upward progress. As civilization, learning,
THEATRES OF ANCIENT AND MODERN EUROPE. 127
and the arts increased; as morality and religion
struggled through the darkness of barbarism and
superstition, men congregated again for ameliora-
ting amusement, and theatres and plays again
appear. We see Calderon withdraw the Spa-
niard's eyes at times from the auto-da-fé and the
bull-fight; the poets, and musicians, and painters,
of Italy, raising the stage where false religion and
bad government counteracted its influence; the
drama of France advancing as refinement ad-
vanced, but trammelled by false taste, and strug-
gling against the maxims of despotic monarchy;
and in England the dawning of "learning's triumph
o'er her barbarous foes" is marked by the rearing
of the stage, and mighty bursting forth of those
dramatic luminaries whose light has been obscured
only by the greater splendour of Shakspeare. In
spite of the barbarism still clinging to our ancestors
in his time, in spite of the filth which he, even he,
could not throw from him, he did more for the en-
lightenment of his country than any other indivi-
dual, uninspired, before or since. Civil war and its
evils followed. Our ancestors felt the influence of
reason, advanced rapidly towards the goal of hu-
man excellence, but had to shake off the incubus
of the damnable doctrine of divine right in king-
ship, and then men thought only of the struggle
for and against oppression; of course, the theatre,
with all literature, declined. The commonwealth
and the protectorate were continued struggles of
reason against intolerant bigotry; republicanism
128
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
against profligate monarchy and daring apostacy
and usurpation. The arts and the drama were
silent. We are left to imagine what would have
been the amusements of our ancestors, what would
have been their drama, if the nation had been far
enough advanced to have formed a true republican
representative government-and a Milton, instead
of being a Latin secretary to Cromwell, had writ-
ten for and directed a theatre: the dramas he did
write are worthy of the best ages of Greece. But
our English ancestors were not yet a nation of re-
publicans. Monarchy was restored: licentious-
ness prevailed; and the stage became a sink of
profligacy. From this degraded state, the drama-
tic literature of England, which is ours, has been
rising in purity, though declining in force.
When the drama was introduced into this coun-
try, the favourites of England were of course the
favourites of the colonies. It is a subject for the
historian of America, it is the duty of the historian
of our literature, to mark the changes from the
plays then popular, plays full of wit, but fraught
with indelicacies, not to say obscenities, their very
plots so entwined with the loose manners and in-
trigues of the time as to be incapable of pruning
so as to leave the wit, the better part, separated
from the filth; it is his duty to point out these
favourites of former times, and to show that, as
our society has improved, these plays have fallen
into desuetude, both here and in England. The in-
decency and immorality of the plays of Charles the
THEATRES DIRECTED BY GOVERNMENT.
129
Second's time, and a later period, belonged to the
state of society, and not to the stage or the writers
for it, otherwise than as a part of society. If the
wise and the good frequent the theatre, its exhi-
bitions must become schools of wisdom. The
lessons taught must be those of patriotism, virtue,
morality, religion. These lessons would not be
thought misplaced as coming from the stage, if the
stage had not been polluted by the licentiousness
of its supporters; and when, as it may be, its sup-
porters shall be the moral and the wise, the purest
teachings will flow, mingled in the same stream
with the delightful waters of Helicon, undefiled
by the conduits from which they are received.
If the theatre is abandoned to the uneducated,
the idle, and the profligate, mercenary managers
will please their visiters by such ribaldry or folly,
or worse, as is attractive to such patrons, and pro-
ductive of profit to themselves.
As Puritanism or bigotry cannot shut the
theatre, or even, as in former times in England,
fine the actors for repeating the words of the dra-
matists*, or banish the fine arts from society as
being too worldly, or stigmatize their professors as
ungodly worldlings, or frivolous or vicious men-
let those who seek rational amusement and elevat-
ing pleasure, and know the value of such amuse-
ments in a political point of view upon the mass of
the people-those who know that music, painting,
poetry, and the art of the player may be made
VOL. I.
* See Life of Betterton.
K
130
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
salutary instruments for refining the mass of the
population, unite in supporting, and by their pre-
sence purifying and directing, the theatre. Let
the lovers of rational enjoyment, the enjoyment set
before man by his benevolent Creator, join in the
support and purification of every elegant art.
What engine is more powerful than the theatre ?
No arts can be made more effectual for the promo-
tion of good than the dramatic and histrionic. They
unite music, poetry, painting, and eloquence. The
engine is powerful for good or ill-it is for society
to choose.
But the question arises-"How are the evils
flowing from theatrical representations to be
banished from them, and the good preserved and
secured?" The answer is, make the theatre an
object of governmental patronage; take the mighty
engine into the hands of the people as represented
by their delegates and magistrates. The stream
of pure instruction flowing into a city is of more
worth than even the purity of the water which is
to cleanse it, and afford an aliment to banish the
poison of the licensed murderers at every corner
and every avenue of our towns. If a state or city
government were to direct a theatre, nothing could
be represented that was not conformable to pa-
triotism, morality, and religion.
If an association of men of taste, literature, and
moral standing in the community, should build and
open a theatre upon such a plan, select a man of ac-
quirements fitted for the management, and pay him
PLAYS IN GREECE.
131
liberally, not allowing him any interest in the profits
or losses, and supervising the whole by a com-
mittee or otherwise, gain would not be the ob-
ject of such an association, and yet gain might
accrue. Actors, in either case, of a theatre pro-
tected by the government or by an association of
private individuals, should be well paid, and se-
lected for their morals as well as talents; they
would be then instruments of good at all times;
and, sheltered from the temptations which now
beset the profession, they would be honoured in
private as applauded in public.
In Greece, where the arts attained a perfection
yet unrivalled, plays were the organs of the public
and the stimulants to heroism and patriotic self-
devotion. There artists of every description were
the cherished instruments of taste and refinement.
To make use of the language of an historian and
philosopher, "shall we cast into the gulph of obli-
vion all the taste, and art, and invention, all the
monuments of free thought, and sublime and glo-
rious outgoings forth of the soul, which the repub-
lics of Rome and Greece have bequeathed us," in
the form of dramas, and all the knowledge con-
tained in modern dramatic authors? Long ought
we to strive to untwist the mingled web, and throw
away the stained thread, before we consent to such
destruction.
If the wise and the good desert the theatre, the
directors, on the present plan, having only emolu-
ment in view, will attract the idle and vicious by
1
K 2
132
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
such entertainments as suit their ignorance or de-
pravity, and the school and the scholars deteri-
orate together, each acting as cause, each suffering
the effect. But is it visionary to suppose a free
government, a government of the people, regu-
lating and making more perfect and even more
attractive an amusement which the people love,
and will have, making it a school that shall invite
to virtue and teach the truths of history, philoso-
phy, patriotism, and morals? or that an associa-
tion of wealthy, enlightened individuals should
effect the same salutary object?
The establishment of a theatre and its support
is costly. But the expense need be no objection.
The price of admission might be very low, and
still the expense paid. And a low price of admis-
sion would, with the superior excellence of per-
formers and entertainments, put down competitors.
Histrionic artists would then be honoured, and not,
as under other systems, shunned, and thereby de-
graded in their own eyes, and made a source of
ill to themselves and others.
A history of the theatre of any country ought to
show faithfully any ill that may flow from it or
attend it, either to the people or to those engaged
in supporting, directing, or treading, the stage.
Many players have been licentious, many have
been the victims of intemperance; but what pro-
fession can say "we are free from such members?"
It may be a part of our task to show that the temp-
tations are strong which beset the player, and that
ACTORS AND MANAGERS.
133
they are such as the plan proposed above would
remove. But we must not for a moment confound
the actor-the histrionic artist- with the pre-
tenders and low hangers-on of the theatre. The
message deliverer is to the personator of Hamlet
what the hod-carrier is to the architect. But even
the lowest retainers of the play-house, if employed,
sanctioned, protected, by government, or an asso-
ciation such as above-mentioned, must, with such
support and under such controul, be decent, if not
virtuous, members of society.
This plan may appear chimerical, and perhaps
may be opposed, at first view, by players and ma-
nagers, as well as by all the enemies of the the-
atre, who are such from the various motives of
blind prejudice, or honest belief that it is a pro-
moter of evil. But let not the latter determine
rashly to oppose an engine which is so powerful ;
let them rather with me devise means to secure it
as the auxiliary of all that is precious to man. Let
them likewise consider that these remarks do not
come from youth and inexperience, but from one
long familiar with the subject, long wishing to
remedy the evils connected with it, and fully ac-
quainted with them. With this experience and
this knowledge, his conclusion is, that the theatre
ought to be supported, but that its direction should
be wrested from the hands of any person, whose
sole aim is profit (either by making money or in-
creasing his professional celebrity), and guided by
the enlightened portion of society.
134
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
A player's first motive is to increase his fame as
an actor, and his popularity; and if he is the ma-
nager of a theatre, money, though an attendant on
such popularity, is a secondary object. In his
choice of pieces to bring before the public, he reads
the work of the dramatist with the primary object
of finding a character in it that will suit his powers
and gain him applause. If there is no such part,
he is tempted to pronounce it worthless. His office
of manager may then come to his recollection, and
he thinks of the probability of its bringing full
houses. He has no thought of the quality of the
auditors, and if the crowded house of boys, vulgar
brawlers, drunkards, rioters, thoughtless or vicious
persons of both sexes, fill his treasury as manager,
or gratify his desire for applause as actor, he is
content.
The manager, not a player, if merely looking to
retrieve fortune, or make it, has but one object in
view, and is as careless of the tendency of the plays
he adopts for his stage as the player. Money is his
object. Both say, "we must please the public."
But their public becomes that public which is
pleased only with glitter, parade, false sentiment,
and all that lulls conscience or excites to evil. The
wise, the good, even the mere worldlings, who fear
for their reputation, desert the place where the
first are disgusted, and the last tremble for the
character on which their prosperity depends.
Now, all this would be, must be, changed, if this
powerful engine is in the hands of those whose only
J
FIRST AMERICAN COMEDY ACTED BY PLAYERS. 135
aim is to use it for moral purposes, to instruct, to
inspire love of country, virtue, religion, and mo-
rality, teaching and improving the public, who are
attracted by the hope of amusement, and held by
the delights of truth, conveyed by poetry, assisted
by music, painting, and eloquence.
The historians of the Celestial Empire, if we re-
member aright, are prohibited the indulgence of
reflections. As we are at liberty to reflect and re-
mark upon the facts we record, and the personages
appertaining to our history, we shall take other
opportunities to pursue the subject touched upon
above, and now return to the thread of our story,
chronologically.
On the 12th of February, 1786, Hallam and
Henry opened the theatre in John Street, New-
York, with The Provoked Husband, and Miss in
her Teens. The company had undergone no
material change.
A Mrs. Giffard made a first appearance in Lady
Rusport, in The West Indian, on the 16th. Hal-
lam's Belcour and Henry's O'Flaherty made this
play as popular in America as in England. Cato
was played about this time, Sempronius by a gen-
tleman, who soon afterwards took his place in the
ranks as Mr. Smallwood.
On the 16th of April, 1786, was performed the
first American play which had ever been got up
on a regular stage, by a regular company of
comedians. It was a comedy in five acts, called
The Contrast, written by Royal Tyler, Esq., of
די
.
J
136
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
Boston, who was encouraged by the favour with
which this first effort was received to produce,
in the May following, a farce, for the benefit of
Wignell, called May-day, or New-York in an
Uproar. We thus arrive at the commencement
of the American drama as united with the Ameri-
can theatre.
As has been noticed, Godfrey's Prince of Par-
thia was published in 1765, appearing in print
at the place of the author's residence, Philadel-
phia*. And we have read the very pleasant and
laugh-provoking tragedy of The Mercenary
Match, written by Barnaby Bidwell, Esq., and
played by the students of Yale College, under the
auspices of the late Rev. Ezra Styles, D. D., presi-
dent, the author of a very interesting book on the
fugitive judges of Charles the First, by the mon-
archists called regicides. This tragedy was, per-
haps still is, in blank verse. The shouts of laugh-
ter produced by the reading of it in a company
of young men some forty years ago are vividly
recollected, but only two passages are remembered.
The first,
t
Night follows day, and.day succeeds to night,
has never been contradicted. The second,
Sure never was the like heard of before in Boston,
though not so measured and harmonious, was
equally applauded.
* This author, Thomas Godfrey, was the son of the inventor of
the quadrant; and wrote his poem, The Prince of Parthia, at the age
of twenty-two.
THE CONTRAST.
137
The Contrast ranks first in point of time of all
American plays, which had been performed by
players. It is extremely deficient in plot, dialogue,
or incident, but has some marking in the charac-
ters, and in that of Jonathan, played by Wignell, a
degree of humour, and knowledge of what is
termed Yankee dialect, which, in the hands of a
favourite performer, was relished by an audience
gratified by the appearance of home manufacture
-a feeling which was soon exchanged for a most
discouraging predilection for foreign articles, and
contempt for every literary home-made effort.
This comedy was given by the author to Wignell,
who published it in 1790 by subscription. It was
coldly received in the closet; yet Jonathan the
First has, perhaps, not been surpassed by any of
his successors. He was the principal character,
strictly speaking, the only character. We will
give a specimen of Jonathan; and select his de-
scription of a play-house in New-York, and the
performance of The School for Scandal, and The
Poor Soldier.
Jenny. So, Mr. Jonathan, I hear you were at the play last night.
Jon. At the play! Why, do you think I went to the devil's
drawing-room?
Jenny. The devil's drawing-room?
Jon. Yes: why aint cards and dice the devil's device? And the
play-house the shop where the devil hangs out the vanities of the
world upon
the tenter-hooks of temptation? I believe you have not
heard how they were acting the old boy one night, and the wicked
one came among them, sure enough; and went right off in a storm,
and carried one-quarter of the play-house with him. Oh, no, no, no
You won't catch me at a play-house, I warrant you.
no!
138
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
To the question, "Where were you about six
o'clock ?" he answers,
Why I went to see one Mr. Morrison, the hocus pocus man;
they said as how he could eat a case-knife. As I was going about
here and there to find it, [the place] I saw a great crowd of folks
going into a long entry, that had lanterns over the door: so I asked
a man if that was the place where they played hocus pocus? He
was a very civil kind of a man, though he did speak like the Hes-
sians; he lifted up his eyes and said, “They play hocus pocus tricks
enough there, got knows, mine friend." So I went right in, and
they shewed me away clean up to the garret, just like a meeting-
house gallery. And so I saw a power of topping folks, all sitting
round in little cabins just like father's corn-crib, and then there was
such a squeaking of the fiddles, and such a tarnal blaze with the
lights, my head was near turned. At length people that sat near me
set up such a hissing-hiss-like so many mad cats, and then they
went thump, thump, thump, just like our Peleg thrashing wheat,
and stampt away just like the nation, and called out for one Mr.
Langolee-I suppose he helps act the tricks.
Jenny. Well, and what did you do all this time?
Jon. Gor, I-I liked the fun, and so I thumpt away, and hissed
as lustily as the best of them. One sailor-looking man that sat by
me, seeing me stamp, and knowing I was a cute fellow, because I
could make a roaring noise, clapped me on the shoulder and said,
"You are a d―d hearty cock, smite my timbers." I told him so I
was, but he needn't swear so and make use of such wicked words.
Jenny. Did you see the man with his tricks?
Jon. Why, I vow, as I was looking out for him, they lifted up a
great green cloth, and let us look right into the next neighbour's house.
Have you a good many houses in New-York made in that 'ere way?
Jenny. Not many. But did you see the family?
Jon. Yes, swamp it, I seed the family.
Jenny. Well, and how did you like them?
Jon. Why, I vow, they were pretty much like other families
there was a poor good-natured curse of a husband, and a sad ranti-
pole of a wife.
Jenny. But did you see no other folks?
;
Jon. Yes. There was one youngster, they called him Mr.
Joseph; he talked as sober and as pious as a minister; but, like
some ministers that I know, he was a sly tike in his heart, for all
·
A
THE CONTRAST.
139
that; he was going to ask a young woman to spark it with him,
and—the Lord have mercy on my soul—she was another man's wife.
Jenny. And did you see any more folks?
Jon. Why they came on as thick as mustard. For my part I
thought the house was haunted. There was a soldier fellow that
talked about his row-de-dow-dow, and courted a young woman;
but of all the cute folk I saw, I liked one little fellow-he had red
hair, and a little round plump face like mine, only not altogether so
handsome. His name was Darby-that was his baptizing name—
his other name I forget. Oh! it was Wig-Wag-Wag-all-Dar-
by Wagall—pray, do you know him? I should like to take a sling
with him, or a drop of cider with a pepper-pod in it, to make it
warm and comfortable.
Jenny. I can't say I have that pleasure.
Jon. I wish you did, he's a cute fellow. But there was one
thing I didn't like in that Mr. Darby, and that was, he was afraid of
some of them 'ere shooting irons, such as your troopers wear on
training days. Now I'm a true-born Yankee American son of liberty,
and I never was afraid of a gun yet in all my life.
Jenny tells him he "was certainly at the play-
house," and he cries, "Marcy on my soul! Did I
see the wicked players? Mayhap that 'ere Darby,
that I liked so, was the old serpent himself, and
had his cloven foot in his pocket. Why, I vow,
now I come to think on't, the candle seemed to
burn blue, and I'm sure, where I sat, it smelt tar-
nally of brimstone."
He proceeds to tell of his demanding his money,
because he had not seen the show; "the dogs a
bit of a sight have I seen, unless you call listening
to people's private business a sight."
Royal Tyler, Esq., was a native of Massa-
chusetts, received a liberal education, studied law,
and served as an officer in quelling Shea's insur-
rection. After this, he wrote The Contrast and
140
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
May Day. Returning to Massachusetts, he be-
came involved in pecuniary difficulties, and retired
to Vermont, then a new country. He settled at
Brattleborough, and grew with the state. He be-
came a judge, and finally chief-justice. Besides
the above comedy and farce, he wrote and pub-
lished a novel, called The Algerine Captives, and
several poems.
poems. He died in the year 1824.
Such is the beginning of the American theatre,
as connected with our literature, and it is as con-
nected with literature, manners, and morals, that
its history is valuable. We prefer the dialogue of
A Cure for the Spleen, mentioned in chapter the
fourth, to that of The Contrast. It is more dra-
matic, though not intended for the stage.
In McLean's Journal of March 21st, will be
found the following note from the managers, which
marks public feeling at the time on the subjects of
France and England. "It is with real concern
the subscribers learn that a character in The Poor
Soldier has given umbrage to any frequenters of
the theatre: it is both their duty and invariable
study to please, not to offend, as a proof of which,
they respectfully inform the public, they have
made such alterations in the part alluded to as
they trust will do away every shadow of offence."
The part alluded to was Bagatelle.
It is well known that the Frenchman has, in
English farce and comedy, been ever the butt of
John Bull's ridicule and contempt. One legiti-
mate proof of his inferiority and source of merri-
I
Į
BAGATELLE IN THE POOR SOLDIER.
141
ment at his expense, is the fact that he does not
speak good English; this, with various other
equally good reasons, may be given as proofs that
he was, and is, a character only to be laughed at,
and such was a portion of English education.
Now, Jonathan began to feel, some time before,
that all the maxims of John Bull were not as true
as Holy Writ, and having received aid from France
and Frenchmen in the late struggle with England,
and, moreover, having had ocular demonstration
that one Englishman cannot always whip three
Frenchmen, took it into his head that he ought
not to suffer Monsieur Bag-and-tail to be made a
laughing-stock on the American stage; and the
managers were obliged, as we see, to apologize,
and make such alterations as appeased their
Yankee audience.
On the 5th of May, The Contrast, for the fourth
time, and Widow's Vows, were performed for the
benefit of the unfortunate sufferers by the fire
in Boston."
66
The theatre closed the 9th of June. The benefits
had proved very unsuccessful. Hallam tried three
nights before he made a benefit, or gave up the
attempting to make one.
From New-York, Hallam and Henry, with their
company, went to Baltimore, where they opened
a new theatre, on the 16th August, 1786.
Philadelphia appears to have been shunned at
this time probably the hostility against the
drama was too strong to admit of a visit, for, on
142
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
the 21st of December, the company were again in
New-York, and opened the theatre in John Street.
On this occasion the managers announced that,
"in compliance with the wish of many respectable
patrons of the theatre, there would be only two
nights' performance in a week." Since then we
have had four large theatres, and a circus in
which farces are performed, all open six nights in
the week.
The company now consisted of Messrs. Hallam,
Henry, Biddle, Harper, Morris, Wignell, Wools,
Heard, Macpherson, and Ryan, the prompter;
Mesdames Henry, Morris, Harper, Sewell, and
Miss Tuke.
In April, the performers were again taking be-
nefits, and the 7th of the month, Henry brought
out for his wife's benefit a pageant entitled The
Convention, or the Columbian Father, which had
little other effect than to remind the public that
two years before (March, 1785,) she had played
under the denomination of "a gentlewoman" for
Henry's benefit, and to draw forth a bitter remark
in Greenleaf's Journal, that she had so done to
serve a brother and lover. This person was the
youngest of the four Miss Storers, and the second
who enjoyed the name of Mrs. Henry. The older
sisters, who had been on the stage in New-York,
had disappeared from before the American public.
Two of them afterwards reappeared as Mrs. Mech-
ler and Mrs. Hogg. The three sisters came to
America in the year 1767, having previously joined
THE DOCTORS' MOB.
143
the company in Jamaica, with an elder sister, who
was lost in the voyage to America (with the ship),
as before-mentioned. They were passengers in a
vessel from Jamaica, which took fire at sea: the
crew and passengers, with the one exception, were
saved by the boats, and landed at Newport, Rhode
Island.
Mr. Harper was a very useful man in the Ame-
rican company at this time, and personated cha-
racters of every description, from Charles Surface
to Falstaff. In the latter part he gave great satis-
faction. He was unrivalled, for there was no
other and had been no other Falstaff seen on this
side the Atlantic. About this time, April 14th,
1787, he had advertised the first part of Henry
IV. for his benefit, but it was postponed from day
to day in consequence of what has been called the
Doctors' Mob. Some students of anatomy and
young surgeons had incautiously left the windows
of a dissecting-room at the Hospital in such a situ-
ation, that boys at play about the building, at
that time out of town, saw the subjects in a muti-
lated state. They communicated their horror to
others, and a mob of men and boys assembled,
broke into the house, and were so inflamed by the
objects they discovered and the inferences they
drew from them, that they threatened destruction
to all surgeons. The most obnoxious of the pro-
fession were sheltered from their fury by being
placed in the jail, and even then could only be pro-
tected by the armed militia. It was several days
144
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
before the tumult was appeased sufficiently to
allow Falstaff and Hotspur to meet at Shrews-
bury.
The theatre was closed on the 28th of May, and
the company proceeded to Philadelphia. The be-
nefits had been unsuccessful. Even Wignell, the
great favourite, was obliged to call upon a writer
to plead for him, as one who was an object of com-
miseration from long-continued sickness. One of
the company, Macpherson, either could not raise
the wind for a voyage to Philadelphia, or had
created some of those ties which are too strong to
admit of change of place. He advertised lectures
on heads, and endeavoured to excite the sympathy
of the public as a father, who was unable to dis-
charge the debts he had unavoidably contracted.
Wignell appeared next year, restored to health
and in the full tide of popular favour; of Mac-
pherson, we never hear more.
F
T
CHAPTER VII.
Strollers Authorship for the Stage Managers -
Dubellamy
- Henry Hallam First Comedy accepted and delayed —
Second brought out The Father of an only Child — Dramatis
Personæ Darby's Return
Washington.
WHEN Kemble, or his sister Siddons, or his rival
Cooke, went the round of the provincial theatres,
were they not strollers? But they played in the
theatres royal of Bath, or Liverpool, or Manches-
ter. And the Douglasses and Hallams played in
his majesty's theatres of the colonies by royal au-
thority, delegated to the royal governors. If to
be his majesty's servants gave dignity to the first,
the same equivocal dignity belongs to the second.
In the time of feudal barbarism, the musician, the
poet, and the player, could only be protected from
the violence of the robber-baron by becoming the
servant of the baron-robber, or of his liege-lord the
king. This is the origin of the honourable dis-
tinction enjoyed by the players of the London and
other licensed English theatres. The barons no
longer entertaining minstrels, or trouveurs, or his-
trions, or jongleurs (jugglers), or players, and the
law considering the unpatronised artist as a vaga-
bond, the king became sole master of the players,
and all established theatres were theatres royal.
Happily, the time is approaching when the
painter, the musician, the poet, and the player,
VOL. I.
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THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
£
may instruct or amuse the public without being
called to account by the constable. It has not yet
arrived in every part of the United States. The
poems of Milton or Shakspeare, or the picture on
which, as on the page of history, the painter has
written lessons of eternal truth, teaching love to
God and man, are all subjects of fine or tax, and
are stigmatized as shows, and their exhibiters or
reciters as showmen or strollers, in some portions
of our country. If merely moving from place to
place for the purpose of exercising a calling makes
that calling disreputable, and remaining in one
spot for its exercise is dignified, it would seem to
follow that the judge who goes the circuit- the
lawyer who travels from court-house to court-
house, from county to county
the preacher who
obeys the call of those who want a teacher
the missionary who carries instruction to the igno-
rant who do not call for it, or the bishop who
moves through his diocess to confirm and conse-
crate, are all in this respect as undignified as the
player; and the cobbler, who sits from the first of
January to the last of December in his stall, is
the most dignified personage that can well be ima-
gined. Let us return to players, plays, and the
authors of plays.
About the end of summer, in the year 1787, the
writer returned home, after a residence of more
than three years in London. These years were
those which occur between the ages of eighteen
and twenty-two, a portion of life fraught with
A
THE AUTHOR'S FIRST PLAY.
147
danger to all. The theatre had been his delight,
and he had seen all the great performers on the
English stage at that period, and as many plays
as his finances permitted. The theatres of Drury
Lane, Covent Garden, and the Haymarket, had
been visited for the sake of the performances
exhibited, and not as scenes of dissipation. All
Shakspeare's acting plays, and many others, espe-
cially the new pieces of the day, had been before
him, represented by the immediate successors, and
some of the cotemporaries of Garrick.
Young, and filled with these recollections, he
first saw the American company on his return,
performing upon the stage where, as a boy, he
had witnessed the representations of Shakspeare,
Home, and Cumberland, by the officers of his
Britannic majesty, during the cessations of their
military exertions for suppressing the rebellion.
He heard of the success of The Contrast, and
although it was already put on the shelf of the
prompter, or buried in his travelling chest, the
praises bestowed upon it lit up the inflammable
material brought from abroad, and a comedy in
five acts was written in a few weeks.
A Yankee servant, a travelled American, an
officer in the late revolutionary army, a fop, such
as fops then were in New-York, an old gentleman
and his two daughters, one of course lively and
the other serious, formed the dramatis personæ.
The play was read to critics as young and igno-
rant as the author, and praised to his heart's
L 2
148
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
,
content. It has long slept in the tomb of the
Capulets, and fortunately no traces remain of its
merits or demerits.
Having written a play, how was the author to
approach those awful personages, the managers?
He had never been behind the scenes of a theatre.
His ideas of managers were those formed from
books; and Garrick, and Colman, and Sheridan,
the arbiters of the fate of authors, and famed them-
selves for wit and learning, invested all managers
with a splendour little short of regal dignity. He
had not read that letter of Garrick to Colman,
which says,
"I know that fools may be, and that
many fools have been, managers." Little did the
young author know how much these redoubted
American kings wished for alliance with the citi-
zens, and how gladly they would meet any over-
tures from the son of a merchant. In fact, he
knew nothing of the theatre, its managers, or its
actors, but the mere outside.
As a medium of communication between the
play-writer and the managers, a man was pointed
out, who had for a time been of some consequence
on the London boards, and now resided under
another name in New-York. This was the Dubel-
lamy of the English stage, a first singer and walk-
ing-gentleman. He was now past his meridian,
but still a handsome man, and was found suffi-
ciently easy of access and full of the courtesy of
the old school. A meeting was arranged at the
City Tavern, and a bottle of Madeira discussed
DUBELLAMY-HENRY.
149
The
with the merits of this first-born of a would-be
author. The wine was praised, and the play was
praised-the first, perhaps, made the second
tolerable-that must be good which can repay a
man of the world for listening to an author who
reads his own play. Unless the work has uncom-
mon merit, the listener's task is a hard one.
play was read with "good emphasis and discre-
tion," in the reader's opinion, and apparently in
that of the veteran Dubellamy. It was "excellent,
wanted a little pruning, but far less than She
Stoops to Conquer, when Goldsmith read it to us
in the green-room." Delightful draughts of flat-
tery, from a man who had heard and seen the
author of the Vicar of Wakefield, and She Stoops
to Conquer! The comedy was called by the
mawkish title of The Modest Soldier, or Love in
New-York.
An introduction to the managers was the next
step; and a reading by appointment at Henry's
house, to Messrs. Hallam and Henry and Mrs.
Henry. The lady was polite, Henry compli-
mented, Hallam was shy and silent.
Henry being the acting manager, several inter-
views with him succeeded. On one occasion the
author of the comedy, calling on him, was ushered
into his chamber by Mrs. Henry, and found him
extended on a field-bed and apparently unable
to rise. His gigantic figure appeared larger than
ever, his face was flushed with fever, and the
lower part covered by beard. His disease was
-
150
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
..
gout, and he occasionally expressed his suffering,
but spoke cheerfully, and even jocosely. The same
evening he played the Youthful Lover in The
Clandestine Marriage, and his morning visiter
saw him in apparent health and elegantly appa-
relled, while his brother manager Hallam, a har-
lequin in activity, represented Lord Ogilby, a
character he had seen performed by King at
Drury Lane, and mimicked those twitches and
excruciating pains which Henry, feeling in reality,
covered with the mask of apparent ease and en-
joyment. Such is one picture of theatrical life,
and by no means the most extraordinary.
Henry was the only actor in America who kept
a carriage. It was in the form of a coach, but very
small, just sufficient to carry himself and wife to
the theatre; it was drawn by one horse and driven
by a black boy. Aware of the jealousy towards
players, and that it would be said he kept a coach,
he had caused to be painted on the doors, in the
manner of those coats of arms which the aristo-
cracy of Europe display, two crutches in heraldic
fashion, with the motto, "This or these." It is
remembered that Henry said, "I put this marked
motto and device on my carriage to prevent any
impertinent remarks on an actor keeping his
coach. The wits would have taken care to forget
that the actor could not walk."
The ride was not a long one for the actor and
actress from their house to the theatre in John
Street, as he lived in Fair Street (now Fulton),
HENRY'S COACH-PLAY ACCEPTED.
151
between Nassau Street and Broadway, in the
same two-story brick house painted yellow in
which Hodgkinson resided for some years. Mrs.
Henry used to go ready dressed for the cha-
racter she was to play, and shut up in a little box-
like vehicle. This residence in Fair Street was still
more convenient for Hodgkinson's theatrical busi-
ness, as a gate opened (and still opens) from the
back of the house, directly opposite Theatre Alley.
The comedy of the young author was accepted
and cast, but after some delays its appearance was
by agreement deferred until the next winter, as the
benefits were soon to commence, previously to the
company's leaving the city. While on this subject
it is best to despatch it. The next season altera-
tions were proposed and made to suit Mrs. Henry.
The bringing out was still put off, and it was only
time and experience that explained to the can-
didate for fame the mystery of his disappointment.
There was no part suited to Henry, and he was
the acting and efficient manager. There was no
part suited to his wife, and she was another ef-
ficient manager. The best man's part was intended
for Wignell. The best woman's part was cast by
the author for Mrs. Morris, as the representative
of the lively comedy lady. The acting manager
and his manager were jealous of and at variance
with Hallam and Wignell, and Mrs. Morris was
patronised by Wignell.
These were mysteries unthought of by the young
author, who, buoyed up by hope and expectation,
152
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
:
anticipating the success of this much-praised
comedy, proceeded to write a second, in which,
without design, one part was suited to Henry, an-
other did not displease his wife, and the lively lady
was evidently inferior to the character assigned
to the manager's lady. This second comedy was
seized with avidity by Henry. The author was
easily persuaded to let the second come out first;
and the first was ultimately consigned to oblivion,
no doubt a merited oblivion, the flattery of Dubel-
lamy,Hallam, Henry, and the rest, notwithstanding.
About this time Mr. Samuel Low, in the Bank of
New-York, then the only bank of the city, or state,
wrote a comedy, which was rejected by the mana-
gers, and published for their justification by the
author.
On the 13th June, 1788, Mr. Kenna, who with
his wife had made a part of the old American com-
pany, opened a theatre at Newbern, North Carolina,
with the tragedy of Isabella, Mrs. Kenna playing
the heroine; and in July, the same corps opened a
theatre in Wilmington.
On the 7th of September, 1789, the second comedy
above mentioned was brought out. It was called
The Father. It had been studied carefully, was
played correctly, and received with great applause
by the citizens. It was printed, and was the first
play which had come from the American press, as
performed by regular comedians. It was im-
mediately reprinted in Halifax, and some years
afterwards another edition was published, with an
THE FATHER OF AN ONLY CHILD.
153
addition to the title of the words of an Only
Child.
This play was well performed. The serious or
pathetic parts received full support from Henry,
who played the Father, and from Mrs. Henry, who
was the heroine. Wignell added to his repu-
tation as a comic actor. The comedy was per-
formed until the benefits commenced, in about
three weeks after its appearance. The author
made an attempt to soften the asperities which
war had created, and to reconcile his countrymen
to their British brethren. When the American
company ceased to be "one and indivisible"-when
Wignell, who was the great favourite of the laugh-
ter-loving, seceded, the play was laid aside. Its
merits have never entitled it to revival.
As The Father of an Only Child may claim some
attention, from the circumstance that it was the
first drama which issued from the press after the
revolution—the first American play printed that
had been performed in a regular theatre- and the
first performed of the many afterwards written by
its author, we will give the cast of it, and take the
opportunity of noticing the characters and their
representatives.
Colonel Campbell, "the father of an only child,"
was played by Mr. Henry. The colonel, like se-
veral of our patriotic officers of 1775, is supposed
to have been a physician previous to taking up
the sword. When a student at Edinburgh, he had
clandestinely married, lost his wife, and, when he
154
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
returned home, left his only child with a friend,
who had educated him and placed him in the
British army under his own name. Campbell sup-
poses he was killed at Bunker's Hill, and now ar-
rives in New-York to visit two sisters, his wards.
Racket, played by Mr. Hallam, had married one
of these sisters, and is a dissipated and of course
unhappy man and bad husband. In his house the
scene lies, and the unities are fully observed. Rus-
port, played by Mr. Biddle, is an impostor, pre-
tending to be an officer in the English army, but
really the fugitive servant of Haller, played by Mr.
Harper, who proves to be the son of the colonel,
supposed to have fallen in battle. Tattle, played
by Mr. Wignell, is the family physician and Mar-
plot of the piece. Campley, played by Mr. Wools,
is a companion of Haller's; Platoon, Mr. Ryan, is
a kind of poor Corporal Trim to Colonel Campbell;
Jacob, Mr. Lake, is a German soldier, left behind
by the auxiliaries of England. Such are the males.
Mrs. Racket, played by Mrs. Morris, encourages
the addresses of Rusport in jest, and excites her
husband's jealousy. Caroline, played by Mrs.
Henry, had met Haller in Halifax and been be-
trothed to him, and discovers to Campbell that his
son was not killed at Bunker's Hill, but is only
lost to him by subsequent events, as is suspected by
her. Mrs. Grenade, played by Mrs. Harper, and
Susannah, by Miss Tuke, thicken the plot and
serve to unravel it. Haller detects his servant,
discovers that he is somebody else and not him-
MR. JOHN HENRY MR. HALLAM.
155
self, and is married to Caroline, and all the rest
ends as a decent play ought to do. Such were the
characters; of their representatives a few words.
Mr. John Henry was full six feet in height, and
had been uncommonly handsome. He played
Othello better, we believe, than any man had done
before him in America; it is recorded that he wore
“the uniform of a British general officer, his face
black, and hair woolly." This must not appear
strange, however improper, for the writer saw John
Kemble, in 1786-7, play the Moor, (Mrs. Siddons
the Desdemona) in a suit of modern military of
scarlet and gold lace, coat, waistcoat, and breeches;
he wore white silk stockings, his face was black,
and his hair (not woolly, but long and black) was
queued in the military fashion of the day. Bensley
played Iago, and very well, in a modern uniform
of blue and red. Thus Mr. Henry dressed in the
manner of his contemporaries. He was at this
time a victim to the gout. His Irishmen were
very fine, and he had great merit in serious and
pathetic fathers. Of the merits of Mr. Hallam we
have repeatedly spoken. In person he was of mid-
dle stature or above, thin, straight, and well taught
as a dancer and fencer. In learning the latter ac-
complishment, he had received a hurt in the corner
of one of his eyes, which gave a slight cast, a
scarcely perceptible but odd expression to it in
some points of view; generally, his face was well
adapted to his profession, particularly in comedy.
Biddle was an actor merely decent. Harper, who
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was then considered handsome, was marked with
the small-pox, had expressive eyes, and fine teeth.
Wools, formerly the singer of the company, was
now old, and of little value as a player; he was a
gentlemanly, modest, and honest man. Wignell
was a man below the ordinary height, with a
slight stoop of the shoulders; he was athletic,
with handsomely formed lower extremities, the
knees a little curved outwards, and feet remark-
ably small. His large blue eyes were rich in ex-
pression, and his comedy was luxuriant in humour,
but always faithful to his author. He was a comic
actor, not a buffoon. He was a clown who did
not speak more than was set down in his part.
The vice of impudently altering and adding to an
author has always existed and is increasing in pro-
portion to the increase of our theatres and the de-
cline of the Drama. In proportion as plays are
worthless, players will foist in their own nonsense
to amuse the auditors of worthless plays; but if
the Drama is to be supported or revived, the prac-
tice must meet the reprehension of managers and
audience. Mr. Wignell's taste was too good to
permit his falling into such an error. Ryan was
passable, and Lake merely bearable. Ryan was
the prompter, and occasionally played small parts.
Another of the name (Dennis Ryan), had per-
formed in New-York in 1781-2, with the officers
of the British army.
Mrs. Morris, the fine lady of the company, was
a tall and elegant woman, and her acting very
1
SCENE FROM THE FATHER OF AN ONLY CHILD. 157
spirited. Mrs. Henry was a very small, fair, woman,
with much talent both for speaking and singing,
and though her figure gave her no aid, her spirit
and judgment made her tragedy effective. Mrs.
Harper was a woman of no personal beauty, but
played the old women of comedy respectably.
Miss Tuke was young, comely, and awkward. She
afterwards, as Mrs. Hallam, became an actress of
merit, and improved in beauty and elegance.
For the reasons above given we may be excused
if we dwell a little longer on this comedy. The
American Quarterly Review thus speaks of it:-
"The plot is sufficiently dramatic to carry an in-
terest throughout; the characters are well drawn,
and well employed, and the dialogue possesses
what is indispensable to genuine comedy, a brief
terseness and unstudied ease, which few of the
productions of the present era afford."
As we have given a specimen of the first Ame-
rican comedy that was performed by professed
actors, and it is selected as a fair specimen, like-
wise, by the editor of the New England Magazine,
we will give a short scene from the second, as se-
lected by the American Quarterly Review.
Enter TATTLE, to RACKET, MRS. RACKET, and RUSPORt.
Tat. Oh, Racket, my dear fellow, how d'ye do?
Rack. So, another infernal coxcomb!
Tat. What's the matter? You don't seem well. How d'ye do,
ma'am? Your servant, sir (to Rusport). Racket, you have not in-
troduced me to this gentleman.
Rack. Captain Rusport, this is my friend Doctor Tattle.
Tat. Yes, sir, Tattle-Terebrate Tattle, M.D.
158
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
!
Rack. Doctor, this is Captain Rusport, just arrived in the last
packet from Halifax.
Tat. How d'ye do, sir? I'm very glad to see you, indeed. Very
fine potatoes in Halifax. Racket! this way. Here, just come from
abroad. You'll recommend me.
Rack. If he wants a physician, I certainly will (half aside), in the
full hope that you will poison him.
Tat. Thank you! thank you! Servant, ma'am. Fine weather,
ha? A little rainy, but that's good for the country. A fine season
for coughs and colds, sir (to Rusport). O, Racket, my dear fellow,
I had forgot that I heard of your accident. No great harm done, I
perceive. What a tremendous fall you must have had—precipitated
from the scaffolding of a three-story house, and your os parietale
brought in contact with the pavement, while your heels were sus-
pended in the air, entangled in a mason's ladder.
Rack. Pooh! pooh! I broke my nose.
Tat. Is that all! Why I heard-so, so-only a contusion on the
pons nasi. I was called up to a curious case last evening.
Rack. Then I'm off. (While Tattle is speaking, Racket goes, and
Rusport and Mrs. Racket retire laughing).
Tat. Very curious case indeed. I had just finished my studies for
the evening, smoked out my last cigar, and got comfortably in bed.
Pretty late. Very dark. Monstrous dark. Cursed cold. Monstrous
cold for the season. Very often the case with us of the faculty; called
up at all times and seasons. Used to be so when I was a student in
Paris. Called up one night to a dancing master, who had his scull
most elegantly fractured, his leg most beautifully broke, and the finest
dislocation of the shoulder I ever witnessed. I soon put his shoulder
in state to draw the bow again, and his leg to caper to the sounds it
might draw from his kit, violin, or fiddle; as for his head, a dancing
master's head, ma'am (looking round), head, head. Oh, there you
are, are you? I beg your pardon, I thought you were by me. (Fol-
lows them). So you see, ma'am, as I was saying, I was called up last
night to witness the most curious case (they avoid him, he follows),
curious case. The bone of the right thigh-(Racket re-enters).
Rack. So, the doctor is at it still.
Tat. Right thigh-I am glad you have come to hear it, Racket.
The bone of the right thigh. (Racket turns from him). The bone
of the right thigh, ma'am. (She turns away). Curious case; the
bone of the right thigh, captain.
Rusp. You must have gained great credit by that cure, doctor.
Tat. Cure? Sir! What? O, you mean the dancing-master!
SCENE FROM THE FATHER OF AN ONLY CHILD. 159
I can assure you, I am sought for. I have a pretty practice, con-
sidering the partiality of the people of this country for old women's
prescriptions.
Notoriety being mentioned-
Mrs. Rack. Notoriety, let me tell you, is often a sure passport
to wealth.
Tat. Very true, ma'am; did I ever tell
you-
Rack. A man becomes notorious by actions which bring him to
the pillory or the gallows.
Tat. Very true, sir. You've heard me say, perhaps-
Mrs. Rack. In that case the stock of notoriety acquired can be
of little service, as the subject of it is launched into eternity before
he has an opportunity of trading upon his capital.
Tat. Very good, ma'am, capital! Did I ever-(she retires with
Rusport). Racket, did I ever tell you of the child that
Rack. That swallowed the pap-spoon? Yes, yes, you told me
that.
Tat. Pap-spoon? Swallowed? Pap-spoon? I never heard of
such a case, and yet it might,—and yet-no-no-I mean the
case,—and
case of the infant that broke-
Rack. Yes, yes, you told me that.
Tat. There is an East Indian nabob just arrived who has a cursed
cachetic habit-
Rack. True, true,-he has-he has; but, doctor, how goes on
your matrimonial negotiation ?
Tat. My landlady--
Rack. Almost married,—ha? Miss Gingham has consented?
Tat. A clever old woman-good old soul.
Rack. But you don't think of marrying her?
Tat. Ha, ha! Good, good! Poor old soul, she is very much
affected with
Rack. But Miss Gingham?
Tat. Pshaw! what's Miss Gingham to a fine case of bilious fever?
The doctor having left them, it is observed that
he had travelled France, Italy, and Germany, in
pursuit of science.
Mrs. Rack. But science travelled faster than he did, and cruelly
eluded his pursuit. Poor doctor! The few ideas he has are al-
"
{
2.
160
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
ways travelling post, his head is like New-York on May day, all the
furniture wandering.
When Wignell took his benefit this year, he re-
quested something from the author of The Father
of an Only Child, and the character of Darby in
The Poor Soldier, in which he was as popular in
America as Edwin was in England, suggested an
Interlude, in which Darby, after various adven-
tures in Europe and in the United States, returns
to Ireland and recounts the sights he had seen.
This trifle was called Darby's Return, and was for
years extremely popular, and several times pub-
lished. The remembrance of this performance is
rendered pleasing from the recollection of the plea-
sure evinced by the first president of the United
States, the immortal Washington, who attended
its representation. The eyes of the audience were
frequently bent on his countenance, and to watch
the emotions produced by any particular passage
upon
him was the simultaneous employment of all.
When Wignell, as Darby, recounts what had be-
fallen him in America, in New-York, at the adop-
tion of the Federal Constitution, and the inaugu-
ration of the president, the interest expressed by
the audience in the looks and the changes of coun-
tenance of this great man became intense. He
smiled at these lines, alluding to the change in the
government-
There too I saw some mighty pretty shows;
A revolution, without blood or blows,
DARBY'S RETURN.
For, as I understood, the cunning elves,
The people all revolted from themselves.
But at the lines-
A man who fought to free the land from wo,
Like me, had left his farm, a-soldiering to go;
But having gain'd his point, he had, like me,
Return'd his own potato ground to see.
But there he could not rest. With one accord
He's called to be a kind of—not a lord-
I don't know what, he's not a great man, sure,
For poor men love him just as he were poor.
They love like a father or a brother,
DERMOT.
As we poor Irishmen love one another.
161
The president looked serious; and when Kathleen
asked,
How looked he, Darby? Was he short or tall?
his countenance showed embarrassment, from the
expectation of one of those eulogiums which he
had been obliged to hear on many public occasions,
and which must doubtless have been a severe trial
to his feelings; but Darby's answer that he had
not seen him, because he had mistaken a man "all
lace and glitter, botherum and shine,” for him, un-
til all the show had passed, relieved the hero from
apprehension of further personality, and he in-
dulged in that which was with him extremely
rare, a hearty laugh.
The plays and farces above-mentioned, the first
efforts of our dramatists, were strictly local. Mr.
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+
Tyler, in his Contrast and some later writers for
the stage, seem to have thought that a Yankee
character, a Jonathan, stamped the piece as Ame-
rican, forgetting that a clown is not the type of
the nation he belongs to. It may here be a fit sub-
ject of inquiry how far we ought to wish for a
national drama, distinct from that of our English
forefathers, meaning the works of the dramatists
before the restoration of Charles the Second. The
plays of Shakspeare, and Jonson, and Ford, and
Marlowe, of Beaumont and Fletcher, of Wycherly,
and all the old poets of the drama, are ours, as
much ours, being the descendants of Englishmen,
as if our fathers had never left the country in which
they were written. We say the same of the philo-
sophy of Milton, and Locke, and Newton. Old
English literature, as well as that of remote antiqui-
ty on which it is founded, is the basis on which we
build, and is an integral part of our mental exis-
tence. Inasmuch as we may hereafter deviate
from the models left us by our ancestors, it will
only be, as we hope, in a more severe and manly
character, induced by our republican institutions,
and approaching the high tone of the Greek drama.
A character created by our free government, and
the absence of debasing aristocratic grades in our
society, already marks our travellers in every Eu-
ropean country they visit. Surely, if any people
on earth can hope to rival the works of Sophocles
and Euripides, it is that country which is destined
FUTURE NATIONAL DRAMA.
163
to look back to the annals of long past ages for a
record that ever a slave or a master polluted her
soil. A people literally self-governed, and guided
by the experience and accumulated science of Asia,
and Africa, and Europe, must appreciate liberty
and feel patriotism as no other people ever did.
But before our drama can approach the wished-for
character, our theatres must be placed in other
hands, or so controlled by the enlightened portion
of the public that the accumulation of money shall
not be the object of their directors.
Milton felt as a republican, and in his dramas
wrote like a Greek. When the dramatists of France
attempted to rear a stage on the model of Greece,
the manners of a court and the effects of monarchy
upon the people counteracted the effort, and, with
some exceptions, rendered the works of their poets
feeble, unnatural, and consequently tedious. The
translations and imitations of the French tragedy
brought on the English stage are contemptible.
We find the following observations, from the
pen of a popular American writer*, so much to the
purpose, that we beg leave to insert them. He is
speaking (see No. 2, American Quarterly Review)
of a national drama. "By a national drama, we
mean, not merely a class of dramatic productions,
written by Americans, but one appealing directly
to the national feeling-founded upon domestic in-
cidents-illustrating or satirizing domestic man-
* James K. Paulding, Esq.
-
M 2
164
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
ners, and, above all, displaying a generous chivalry
in the maintenance and vindication of those great
and illustrious peculiarities of situation and charac-
ter by which we are distinguished from all other
nations. We do not hesitate to say, that, next to
the interests of eternal truth, there is no object
more worthy the exercise of the highest attributes
of mind than that of administering to the just
pride of national character, inspiring a feeling
for national glory, and inculcating a love of coun-
try."
The first efforts at dramatic literature in this
country were wild, the essays of youth, not suffi-
ciently instructed in any thing, and deficient in
literary education; and though they were received
favourably by a people beginning to feel that they
were called to a new state of existence, and wish-
ing a literature identified with themselves, and
distinct from that of Europe, yet both the drama-
tists and the people they addressed had not suffi-
ciently matured their notions of the result of the
great political changes which had taken place, to
know how far to assert independence in literature
or government, or how far to imitate their Euro-
pean ancestors. In the procession on occasion of
the adoption of the Federal Constitution, an as-
sociation of young men, of which the writer was
one, called the Philological Society, carried through
the streets of New-York a book inscribed Federal
Language, as if any other than the English lan-
NEW PLAYS.
165
guage, the language of our fathers, the cotempo-
raries of Hampden and Milton, could be desirable
for their sons and the inheritors of their spirit.
When the whole character of our literature shall
have received the impress of our republican go-
vernment, when our writers, wherever they may
lay the scene or the plot of their works, shall warn
mankind of the evils of governments usurped over
the people, then our Drama will be national and
distinct from that of countries not blessed by
liberty of thought.
It is our province to record facts showing the
progress of the theatre, and noticing the attempts
at improvement, both literary and histrionic, and
it shall be attempted with that feeling which we
hope may communicate to our labours a spirit
conducive to the improvement of our fellow-men,
and the correction of those defects which exist
in the department of the fine arts of which we
treat.
We have taken the opportunity afforded by the
comedy of The Father of an Only Child to record
the personal appearance and merits as comedians
of the members of the company who represented
it. They soon after went on their southern tour.
The benefits, which began on the 21st September,
1789, continued to the 9th December, when the
theatre closed. The new pieces brought out this
season were, He Would be a Soldier, Choleric Man,
School for Soldiers, The Father, Who's the Dupe,
166
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
ext
Inkle and Yarico, Dead Alive, Duplicity, Miser,
Toy, Barataria, Prisoner at Large, Critic, Cheats
of Scapin, Half an Hour after Supper, Invasion,
Air Balloon, Darby's Return. Some of these were
got up for benefits, and in so hurried a manner,
for want of time or money, as to destroy them.
"To revive a play," a wit has said, "is to mur-
der it."
•
CHAPTER VIII.
1790.-American Company go to Philadelphia-Widow of Malabar
-Col. Humphreys-John Martin-Season of 1791-2 in New-
York, the last in which the old Company remained the sole pos-
sessors of the United States-Ashton-Final separation of Wignell
from Hallam and Henry-Henry and Wignell go to England-
Henry brings out Mr. and Mrs. Hodgkinson, and others-Wignell
returns with a great Company, and finds the Yellow Fever in Phi-
ladelphia, where the Chestnut Street Theatre had been built for
him and Reinagle-Hodgkinson, Mrs. Hodgkinson, King, Prig-
more, West.
THE Company, with the addition to the stock
pieces mentioned in the last chapter, and of a fe-
male performer, Mrs. Hamilton, who afterwards
played the old women of comedy, proceeded to
Philadelphia, opened their theatre in January,
1790, and continued playing until spring, when
they went to Baltimore, and again returned to
Philadelphia, re-opening the theatre in Southwark
on the 27th of November, 1790.
During their second visit, the managers brought
out a tragedy, translated from the French by Col.
David Humphreys, called The Widow of Malabar;
it was ushered in by a prologue from an abler
hand than that of the translator, Judge Trumbull,
the author of McFingall. This was not a national
drama, according to the author above quoted,
though given to us by an American. The prolo-
gue had a portion of the wit for which McFingall
168
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
is deservedly celebrated. One line approaches to
temerity, alluding to the Indian custom of sacri-
ficing widows to the manes of their husbands-
'Tis better, far, to marry than to burn.
Col. Humphreys and Judge Trumbull belonged
to one of those bands of literary pioneers which,
with pen instead of pickaxe, let light into the
wilderness, and showed to Americans that all
knowledge or wit did not reside on the eastern side
of the Atlantic. President Dwight, Joel Barlow,
Judge Trumbull, Doctor Hopkins, and Col. Hum-
phreys, were fellow-labourers in this work of utility.
David Humphreys was born at Derby, in the
state of Connecticut, about the time the first com-
pany of players came to Virginia, 1752, and gra-
duated at Yale College in 1767. President Dwight
and Judge Trumbull preceded him in the labour
of verse-making; and Barlow likewise owed his
courage to the success of these gentlemen, and
submitted his works to them. Humphreys en-
tered the army of his country at an early period,
and continued to serve honourably to the end of
the contest for freedom. In 1778, he was aid to
Gen. Putnam, whose life he afterwards published,
and in 1780, he made one of Washington's aids-de-
camp. He was intrusted by his illustrious friend
with the standards taken under the capitulation
of Cornwallis at Yorktown, and was presented by
Congress with a sword. This memorable event,
his presenting the standards, was painted by a
COLONEL HUMPHREYS.
169
Danish artist, when the poet and soldier was in
Europe, between 1784 and 1786, as secretary of
legation to Mr. Jefferson. On his return, he, with
Judge Trumbull, Mr. Barlow, and Doctor Hop-
kins, published The Anarchiad. He resided at
Mount Vernon for some time previous to the adop-
tion of the Federal Constitution, and then came
with the first president to New-York. To Hum-
phreys has been ascribed some of that anti-repub-
lican etiquette which attended the president's
levees, and we know that the colonel was attached
to other pomp besides that of "glorious war."
The president and Senate appointed him ambas-
sador to Madrid, and he fulfilled his honourable
duties in Europe until 1802. He resided in Boston
some years, and endeavoured to persuade Bernard
to bring out a comedy he had laboured on until
he thought it worthy of the public-it was ex-
tremely unlike those comedies Bernard owed his
fame to, but the wary comedian heard the poet
read, drank his Madeira, said "very well" now
and then-but never brought out the play. Col.
Humphreys owes his poetical fame principally to
his Address to the Armies, a poem of merit. We
owe to him the introduction of the merino breed of
sheep into this country. He resided for some
years near New-Haven, and died honoured and
regretted. About the year 1806, Malbone painted
a miniature of him, in his best style, which is, to
those who know his style, the highest praise; this
is the only true portrait of this amiable man.
T
170
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
In the course of this winter, 1790-1, we find no-
thing further worth recording but the first appear-
ance of the first person of the male sex born in
America, who adopted the stage as a profession.
Two females of the name of Tuke had been suc-
cessively, the one after the death of the other,
brought out by Mr. Hallam, but in the present
instance a youth, induced by habits of idleness,
and the applause bestowed upon his recitations
by his idle companions, abandoned the profession
chosen for him, and, leaving his native place, New-
York, made his debut as Young Norval, on the
stage of Philadelphia. He was favourably re-
ceived, and his destiny sealed. This was John
Martin. His friends had intended him for the
profession of the law, but what he thought a life
of pleasure had allurements which caused their
disappointment. He was of fair complexion, mid-
dle height, light figure, and played the youthful
characters of many tragedies and comedies in a
style called respectable, but mere respectability in
any of the fine arts is ever associated with medi-
ocrity. Mr. Martin will be hereafter mentioned,
as he continued for some years a useful, though
not a brilliant, actor. He laboured hard, lived
poor,
and died young. Such is the lot of hundreds,
who see only pleasure in the profession of a player;
a profession requiring splendid talents and assi-
duous application; and, if adopted by one who
cannot attain distinction, he is doomed to labour
and privations, too often ending in low dissipation,
OLD AMERICAN COMPANY.
171
disease, neglect, and early death. Labour and
privation is the lot of the player who possesses
distinguished talents and public favour, but the
portion of the drudges of a theatre, the pawns of
the chess-board, is little short of a sealed doom to
a life of poverty, and, if not redeemed by private
virtues, of degradation.
Hallam and Henry opened their theatre in John
Street, New-York, on the 10th of Oct. 1791. The
company now consisted of Hallam, Henry, Wig-
nell, Morris, and Wools, sharers; Harper, Martin,
Hammond, Heard, Ryan, Robinson, Durang, Bis-
set, Biddle, and Macpherson, salaried actors.
The females were Mrs. Henry, Mrs. Morris,
sharers; Mrs. Hamilton, Mrs. Rankin, Mrs. Gray,
Mrs. Harper, and Miss Tuke, were salaried.
This was the last season that this sharing
scheme, first projected in 1752, remained in opera-
tion. A person of the name of Ashton made his
debut in Hotspur, without any powers except
those of voice. He is remembered in the soliloquy
when reading the letter, screaming out,
For the love ee bears hour ouse!
Ee shows by this ee loves iz hone barn better
Than ee loves hour ouse.
Of Hammond, Bisset, Macpherson, Mrs. Rankin,
Mrs. Gray, and Mrs. Sewell, nothing is remem-
bered.
At the close of this theatrical season, Mr.
Thomas Wignell seceded from the old American
172
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
1
¿
company, carrying with him Mr. and Mrs. Morris.
Wignell's talents and influence laid the founda-
tion of that theatrical establishment in Philadel-
phia, which flourished for many years more uni-
formly, and with actors of more general estima-
tion, as citizens and artists, than the rival institu-
tion in New-York, which continued for some time
longer to be called the old American Company.
Philadelphia and New-York became from this
time territories of rival monarchs, who, after
mutual invasions and hostile incursions for a
short time, found it necessary to divide the United
States between them, until other potentates raised
independent standards, and every city, town, and
village, had its own stage, and its own "king of
shreds and patches."
In the year 1792, this important division of the
American Company took place. The writer knew,
four years before, that discord and jealousy ex-
isted between Henry and Wignell. Hallam, who
was Wignell's cousin, and had sent him out in
1775, sided with the latter in 1788. Thus the ma-
nagers, Hallam and Henry, were at variance.
Hallam through life professed to be guided by two
maxims in the management of a theatre. They
were, “keep down the expenses," and "divide and
govern." The first may be right according to
circumstances, as a general rule it is wrong. The
second is always wrong. It is the base resource
of the weak to govern by fraud and falsehood,
when they find that they have not the ability to
WIGNELL'S SECESSION.
173
govern by truth and justice. It is the Machiave-
lian policy of tyrants. Hallam could divide, but
could not govern, and the two more powerful minds
took the reins of government into their own hands
and divided the kingdom. The following state-
ment of the immediate cause of the separation was
communicated to the writer by Wignell, in 1802,
and in the main agrees with Hallam's account of
the transaction. The reader will see where they
would necessarily differ, each stating his own case.
By recurring to the early account of the divi-
sion of shares, it will be seen that the manager had
a share as such, and another as performer. Two
managers enjoyed the same source of emolument,
each having his share as such, and Wignell, know-
ing himself to be at this time the favourite of the
public, aspired to a share in the management and
the advantages belonging thereto. Henry had
given him repeated promises of taking him into
the firm; Hallam appearing to wish for the same.
In the winter of 1791-2, it had been considered
necessary by the sharers to send an agent to Eng-
land for the purpose of engaging performers. The
sharers, it appears, were occasionally called toge-
ther as a council to the joint kings, and they saw
that the American public began to call for more
than had satisfied the colonies of England, or the
exhausted and jealous states immediately after
their independence. In addition to more actors,
scene-painters, musicians, and machinists, a better
wardrobe was wanted. Wignell requested that
174
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
he might be the company's agent, and it had been
promised to him. He had in consequence written
to his friends, that, after an absence of fifteen years,
he should see them again in London. In this
stage of the business he had a more than usually
violent quarrel with Henry, who threatened him
that "his reign should not be long."
In 1792, while the company were playing in
Philadelphia, the following paragraph appeared in
one of the papers. "We have authority to say
that John Henry, one of the managers of the old
American Company, will soon embark for Eng-
land, for the purpose of engaging performers for
the company." On seeing this, Wignell called
upon Hallam, and asked him if he knew of or had
sanctioned that paragraph. He replied, "No."
"Who then authorized it?" The reply was,
"Henry, I suppose, as it is in his usual way."
Wignell asserted his right to go home as agent,
mentioned the promise given to him, and his desire
to visit his friends. Henry persisted in his deter-
mination to take the business on himself, and, as
it appeared by the sequel, had Hallam's assent to
the plan. A meeting of the sharers was called to
choose their agent for this important mission.
When all were assembled, Hallam, we presume,
because the oldest manager and sharer, opened
the business. He expatiated on the condition of
the company, the growth of the country, the de-
mands of the public, the necessity of satisfying
these demands, that the company might prevent
CAUSES OF WIGNELL'S SECESSION.
4
175
opposition; that for these reasons an agent must
be sent to England to procure performers, as well
as make purchases, and establish such a corre-
spondence as would further their views, concluding
with these words, "Mr. Henry is willing to go,
and Mr. Wignell is anxious to go. If Mr. Henry
goes, we can continue playing, and maintain our-
selves. If Mr. Wignell goes, we must shut up."
This shows the importance of Wignell to the
company at that time, and the high estimation in
which he stood with the public.
He proceeded thus. This was the first idea I
had of Hallam's duplicity, and I immediately saw
my situation. I represented to the meeting the
promise given to me, and the arrangements I had
made in consequence of that promise. I repeated
the threat of Mr. Henry to destroy me, and the
mode in which I understood he intended to accom-
plish it, by bringing out an actor to supersede me
in my business, which, by keeping me out of the
management, he could effect, as, by casting new
plays, he could bring a new performer into public
favour, and thereby ruin me in my profession. I
therefore demanded either to be made a joint part-
ner, purchasing at their own price, and without
asking credit, or to be appointed the company's
agent. Both demands were positively refused by
the two managers, and the meeting of sharers
broke up without electing their agent."
The next day another meeting was called,
"which," said Wignell, "as I knew all had been
176
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
previously determined, I declined to attend."
Wignell resigned his situation in the company;
Henry was appointed the agent, and soon after
embarked.
The plan of a new theatre in Philadelphia, pro-
bably long contemplated by many, was now ma-
tured without loss of time. Mr. Reinagle, a pro-
fessor of music, entered into partnership with
Wignell. Their friends furnished such additional
funds as were necessary. The site of the present
theatre in Chestnut Street, not then as now in the
centre of the city, was purchased before the oppo-
nents of theatrical establishments knew for what
purpose it was to be used; and, while an elegant
theatre was building, Wignell followed Henry to
England with power and inclination to engage
such a company and such additional aids as would
overwhelm his long-time enemy, Henry, and his
ex-friend and cousin, Hallam.
A man by the name of Anderson was associated
with Wignell and Reinagle in this scheme, and
afterwards acted as their treasurer. He was the
financier. He was, as were the managers, from
Britain, and was a shrewd man of business. While
preparations were making in Philadelphia for the
reception of the new company, Wignell was suc-
cessfully employed in securing all the adventurers
of talent that could render his corps effective.
The rival managers were both men of insinuating
manners, both experienced in theatrical affairs and
theatrical manoeuvres, and equally animated by
7.

NEW COMPANY ENGAGED BY WIGNELL.
177
the desire of success and the desire of inflicting
injury.
Wignell engaged and safely landed in America
a company more complete and more replete with
every species of talent for the establishment of a
theatre than could have been contemplated by the
most sanguine of his friends. Every thing was
to be splendid, every thing was to be new, with
the exception of himself and Mr. and Mrs. Morris,
the only sharers who had seceded with him.
Fennel, Chalmers, Moreton, Marshall, Harwood,
Whitlock, Green, Darley and son, Francis, Bates,
Blisset, Warrell, Mrs. Whitlock, Mrs. Oldmixon,
Mrs. Francis, Mrs. Marshall, Miss Broadhurst,
Mrs. Warrell, Miss Willems (afterwards Mrs.
Green,) Miss Oldfield, and others of less note,
joined to Wignell and Mr. and Mrs. Morris, com-
posed a force that defied opposition. Besides,
they had a splendid new theatre, larger and in-
comparably better than had been seen before in
the New World, and every thing appeared to
ensure the triumph of Wignell, though Henry had
anticipated him by arriving with a strong rein-
forcement to the old American company, and by
taking the field in Philadelphia before him.
But another, an unexpected and more deadly
enemy, had likewise taken the field-an enemy
that mocked at their painted banners and gilded
truncheons, and put to flight their quips, and
quirks, and wreathed smiles. Death, in the loath-
some form of yellow fever, had established himself
VOL. I.
N

178
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
in the beautiful city of Philadelphia, in the citadel
which had been prepared for the reception of
Mirth and her attendants. This plague had ren-
dered that place a scene of mourning and desola-
tion, in which the inhabitants had prepared to
erect the standard of taste and pleasure. All the
usual occupations of life had ceased, and the
streets were deserted. Bush Hill and Potter's
Field, the hospital and the burying-ground, were
alone populous. Although Bush Hill is now the
seat of business and pleasure, and Potter's Field
metamorphosed into one of the most elegant
squares of this elegant metropolis, there remain
too many monuments of that season of pestilence
to need an additional one here. Yellow fever is
marked on every record of that day, and Charles
Brockden Brown, like another De Foe, has painted
the truth of these scenes in the pages of fiction.
Wignell and Reinagle distributed their forces
in the states of Delaware and New-Jersey, quar-
tering them as they could, in farm-houses or
taverns, and anxiously awaiting the return of
health to the afflicted city. But in the mean time
opened the old theatre in Annapolis, which ancient
metropolis of Maryland was destined not only to
have the first temple to the Muses built within its
precincts, the first to have plays acted within its
walls by any professional histrionics, a part of the
company of William Hallam, but the first to see
the efforts and skill of the best and most powerful
company that had ever been assembled in this
HENRY AND HIS RECRUITS.
179
country. Wignell then opened the Baltimore the-
atre with his very fine corps, and employed them
in that place until the restored health of Philadel-
phia enabled him to take possession of his head-
quarters.
We have said that Henry anticipated the arri-
val of Wignell on his return to America. He had
been active in his recruiting service, and prospe-
rous in his voyages. He had visited the provin-
cial theatres of England, engaged efficient per-
formers, and returned to New-York long before
Wignell's company arrived, or his new theatre in
Philadelphia was ready.
As early as September, 1792, Henry and his
recruits arrived at New-York, and immediately
proceeded to join Hallam in Philadelphia, who
was prepared to open the old theatre in South-
wark. Their first play was The West Indian, in
which Henry's O'Flaherty could only be surpassed
by the original, Moody, or his successor, John-
stone. Hodgkinson, so long the admiration of the
frequenters of the theatre, made his first appear-
ance before an American audience on this occasion
in the character of Belcour.
After a very successful season in the old theatre,
Philadelphia, Hallam and Henry opened the thea-
tre, John Street, New-York, on the 28th of Janu-
ary, 1793, with Reynolds' new comedy of The
Dramatist, and the musical farce of The Pad-
lock.
The reinforcement brought from England by
N 2
180
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
Henry, consisted of Hodgkinson, King, West,
Prigmore, West, jun., Robins, Mrs. Hodgkinson,
and Miss Brett (afterwards Mrs. King). If we
remember that the whole of the old company,
except Wignell, Morris, and Mrs. Morris, were
still united with Hallam and Henry and their
wives (for Hallam had married Miss Tuke), it will
be seen that the corps was numerous, and those
who remember the principals, know that it was
strong in professional art. But insubordination
and discord, jealousy and rivalry, were mixed in
even an uncommon degree with the body thus
brought together. Hallam, who had, fatally for
himself and Henry, joined the latter by deserting
Wignell, now adhered to his old diabolical maxim
of divide and govern, notwithstanding he had
found it easier to do the first than the last. There
was a cause of discord in the jealousy with which
the old members of the company, now feeling as
Americans, viewed the new-comers, who on their
part considered the Americans as inferiors, a thing
of course with all Europeans, the well-informed
excepted; and these actors were very far from
being well-informed except in the affairs of the
stage and green-room. The old members of the
company, treated as inferiors by the recruits,
stood on the defensive, but had no bond of union.
Besides this general cause of discord, there were
the usual conflicting claims of the individuals,
which were soon perceivable by those not behind
the curtain.
ADDITIONS TO THE OLD COMPANY.
181
Even on the first night of exhibition, Hallam
had to come forward before the play began and
beg permission for Mr. Henry to read the part of
Lord Scratch, as Mr. Prigmore, who was an-
nounced for it, positively refused to appear. Henry
accordingly read the part, and Prigmore the next
day published an insolent tirade, in which he talked
of men who,
Dress'd in a little brief authority,
Play such fantastic tricks before high heaven
As make the angels weep.
Considering the person and occasion, this beautiful
passage was probably never more misapplied. The
conduct of this weak and ignorant man can only
be accounted for by supposing that he had as-
surance of support from the new corps.
As Henry's recruits came before the public both
of Philadelphia and New-York in advance of Wig-
nell's company, they must take precedence of them
in this record. And first John Hodgkinson.
Hodgkinson arrived in America on the 6th of
September, 1792, at the age of twenty-six, having
already passed through more scenes in real life,
and played more parts in the mimic life of the
stage, than most men even in his profession of
changing scenes and varying characters are cast
into during a life of protracted existence.
Believing as we do that the stage might be made
subservient to the moral improvement of man, and
that its productions in very many instances have
enlightened the mind and improved the heart, we
182
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
shall not conceal the important truth that those
persons who have made acting the business of
their lives have been in an uncommon degree the
slaves of their passions. The causes and the
remedy we have mentioned and must mention
again. In most works dedicated to the history of
the stage, or the biographies of actors, there is a
gloss attempted, a false and glittering view of the
subject presented to the reader, calculated to do
much mischief. The life of an actor is in many in-
stances represented as a life of pleasure, how
falsely hundreds could testify. It is a profession
of toil and trouble, exposed to mortifications on
one hand, and temptations in an uncommon degree
on the other. Many rise superior to both; those
who fall become the inflictors of misery, and are
repaid in bitterness with a tenfold portion of
wretchedness. This is not the portion of the actor
alone; it belongs to human nature: but until the
profession is honoured by its professors and by
society, the actor is exposed to this lot more than
most men.
In this work we shall have occasion to mention
many of both sexes who have been ornaments to
their profession, and would have conferred honour
on any society; but we shall not varnish the faults
or cast a veil over the follies of those who have
from any cause degraded a profession in itself as
useful as it is liberal. The stage professes to
show vice and folly their deformities as in a mir-
ror. The historian of the stage is bound to do the
HODGKINSON.
183
same, and is as responsible to mankind for the
truth and impartiality of his statements as the
historian of the state. Nor can the actor claim
indulgence from the historian more than any other
public man or artist. He who places himself con-
spicuously before the world becomes accountable
to the world for his actions, and must abide the
judgment of those whose gaze he has attracted.
He is responsible to society, as he is to his Creator,
in proportion to the talents intrusted to him. The
greater those talents, the greater is his power for
good or ill; the more beneficial or destructive his
example. The faults of a man in private life may
be veiled, but the man, who thrusts himself for-
ward, and when made an object for the world to
admire, then defies the maxims of morality and
the decencies of life, can only be made to atone to
society by exposure to infamy, and by the details
of those miseries, those inevitable miseries, which
All
his conduct entails upon himself and others.
he can ask is, "Nothing extenuate nor set down
aught in malice."
The real name of Mr. Hodgkinson was Meadow-
craft. He received from the care of his parents,
who kept a small ale-house in Manchester, more
education or schooling than usually falls to the
lot of the common or lower classes of people in
England. He was taught reading, writing, and
ciphering, and made his debut in the drama of life
as a pot-boy. In this situation he contrived to
obtain some knowledge of fiddling; his ear was
#
184
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
good and his voice melodious. Fiddling and
singing were additional attractions to the ale-
house. But it appears that his parents had too
just notions of their duty to continue John in this
dangerous situation; they removed him, perhaps
too late, to the house of a manufacturer, and bound
him apprentice.
There are very few inhabitants of towns but
may remember some childish association for per-
forming plays. To such a one this boy owed his
first knowledge of that branch of literature, and it
may be said that it was the only branch of which
he obtained any knowledge. To say that Hodg-
kinson was a member of a troop of urchins for
acting, is, to those who knew him, to say that he
was the leader. Idleness, neglect of his master's
business, and the deceit consequent upon all clan-
destine practices, were unfortunately the fruits of
his boyish attempts at acting, and of the supe-
riority his fiddling and singing gave him over his
companions. This, of course, could not last, and,
at the age of fourteen, or between fourteen and
fifteen, he ran away from his indentures, his mas-
ter, and his mother (his father was dead), changed
his name from Meadowcraft to Hodgkinson, and
commenced a life of adventure, a life which teaches
a knowledge of the worst portion of our species,
gives unrestrained play to the passions, and, while
it sharpens the intellect, obscures the natural sense
of moral propriety.
Such was the commencement of this man's life.
HODGKINSON.
185
Let it not be supposed that we record it as a
stigma. On the contrary, we consider it as an
excuse for many aberrations; and his having
attained a high standing in a very difficult profes-
sion, from such a beginning, is a proof of natural
endowments and talents of no common kind.
Hodgkinson used to say, that his principal de-
pendence for the success of his scheme of elopement
rested upon his knowledge of tunes and songs,
which encouraged the hope of being received by
some company of players. He had a crown in his
pocket, which had been given to him by a traveller,
who was pleased with his singing, when on a visit
at his mother's alehouse.
He took the road to Bristol, and contrived, by
joining a wagoner on the way, to reach an inn in
that city, and gain admittance, while yet in the
possession of the greater part of his fortune. An
opportunity soon presented, to one of his enter-
prising disposition, for offering himself as a candi-
date to Mr. Keasebury, the manager of the Bristol
theatre, for the honours and emoluments of the
stage. "What can you do, my boy?" "I can
sing, sir, and play on the fiddle- and I can snuff
the candles." Keasebury was pleased with the
boy's appearance and surprised, on trial, at his
musical powers. He was retained; and, for the
sake of gaining admittance within a theatre, gladly
agreed to do any thing, until he could be made of
service on the stage. Mr. Keasebury seems never
to have thought of doing justice to the boy, his,
..
186
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master, or his parent, by sending him back to the
house he had eloped from.
The first attempt of Hodgkinson to speak in
public was something like that we have recorded
of Hallam. To use his own expression, he "did
not know whether he stood on his head or his
heels," and the message he was intrusted with
was probably not heard, certainly not understood,
by the audience. He soon became useful, and, by
speaking a few lines now and then, singing in
choruses, marching in processions, and snuffing
candles, laid the foundation of his future thea-
trical fortunes. He was not singular in this. Many
very excellent actors have had similar beginnings.
The material was in him. It is ever a proof of
superior powers, or superior virtue, to conquer dif-
ficulties, and, from the lower or viler stations ap-
pendant on a profession, to arrive at the higher
grades of the profession itself.
Most players have had provincial theatres or
strolling companies for their schools; but we
think it will be found that only those who have
had a good, or at least a tolerably good, early edu-
cation, have arrived at the first rank in their pro-
fession. Not to go further back in theatrical his-
tory, Garrick, Henderson, Kemble, Siddons, Cooke,
Merry, Cooper, Harwood, and other eminent per-
formers, male and female, may be brought in proof.
The attainments of Hodgkinson all partook of the
imperfections of the provincial school, and were
all limited by the deficiency of education and ha-
HODGKINSON.
187
bits acquired from the associates of early life. His
unbounded ambition, great physical powers, and
youthful spirits, carried him through every the-
atrical achievement with eclat. He was ready to
attempt any thing, was always above mediocrity,
and sometimes attained to excellence, though never
in the highest department of the Drama. His low
comedy, was his true excellence. In that he had
gained his highest reputation before leaving Eng-
land; but he played every thing, from Harlequin to
clown, from the fine gentleman of Congreve, or the
Vapid of Reynolds, to the boor, the tinker, the
cobbler, or the shelty, from the king to the foot-
boy - his ambition made him ready to swallow
any thing that might keep him before an audience
like Bottom, in The Midsummer's Night, he
wished to play Pyramus and Thisbe, Wall, Moon-
shine, and Lion.
It is not our wish to follow this extraordinary
man through the provincial theatres of England,
in which he gained that skill which we witnessed
in America. His power to please increased yearly,
while going the rounds of Bristol, Liverpool, Man-
chester, and other theatrical towns, and he became
the favourite actor in comedies, operas, and farces.
His eulogist, Carpenter, in The Mirror of Taste,
says, " Co-ordinate with the rise of his fame and
fortune, was the growth of the evils which were
fated to endanger the one, and make shipwreck of
the other; and his professional success and his
!?
188
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gallantries, running parallel to each other, like
the two wheels of a gig, left their marks on every
road he travelled."
We may continue his friend's figure, by saying,
that while the traces of one wheel were erased as
soon as made by the next theatrical gig that fol-
lowed him, the other, like the wheel of the car
which bears the Hindoo idol, crushed the hapless
victims who were fascinated by the rider, and left
its traces permanently marked by ruin, anguish,
and death; while he, apparently as insensible as
the triumphant Juggernaut, passed on to immolate
another and another.
Munden, afterward so celebrated in London,
was then joint manager with Whitlock, in what is
called the circuit of the northern towns in Eng-
land. In their company, Hodgkinson rose to pro-
vincial celebrity; but being engaged for the Bath
theatre, which was esteemed the next in rank to
the London, he left Munden, of whose family he
was an inmate, carrying with him the mother of
his children, and his nominal wife. At Bath,
they were Mr. and Mrs. Hodgkinson. At Bath,
Henry engaged Hodgkinson for America, and with
him another Mrs. Hodgkinson, whom he found as
Miss Brett, of the Bath theatre.
In person, Hodgkinson was five feet ten inches
in height, but even at the period we speak of, at
the age of twenty-six, he was too fleshy to appear
tall, and in a few years became corpulent. He was
HODGKINSON.
189
strongly and well formed in the neck, shoulders,
chest, and arms, but clumsily in the lower limbs,
with thick ancles, and knees slightly inclining
inward. His face was round, his nose broad and
not prominent, his eyes grey, and of unequal sizes,
but with large pupils and dark eyelashes. By some
accident in early youth, one eye had been injured,
as we have had occasion to mention in respect to one
of Hallam's, and was smaller than the other, but this
was not perceptible on the stage when he played
in serious parts, and in the comic, added archness
to the expression of his face. His complexion was
white, and almost colourless, and his hair dark
brown. On the stage, paint is a part of costume ;
and, at the time of which we write, powder was
indispensable as a covering for the hair, on or off
the stage, for those who played modern gentlemen,
and theatrical heroes of antiquity had the resource
of Brutus wigs of any colour.
This physiognomy was capable of varied ex-
pression, and, with the unbounded animal spirits
of the possessor, and skill in the stage toilette,
Hodgkinson passed for handsome, and undoubted-
ly had the power of expressing every thing but the
delicate or sublime. He had great physical strength,
and a memory capable of receiving and retaining
the words of an author to an extent that was truly
astonishing. What is called, in the technical lan-
guage of the theatre, "a length" is forty lines. A
part in a play is calculated by the number of
lengths, and twenty is a long part. Hodgkinson
190
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
would read over a new part of twenty lengths, and
lay it aside until the night before he was to play it,
attending the rehearsals meantime, then sit up
pretty late to study it, as it is called, and the next
morning, at rehearsal, repeat every word, and
prompt others.
His ambition for applause was
inordinate, and he was as rapacious for characters
as Bonaparte has since been for kingdoms.
Not content to be an actor, he would, in despite
of every thing, be a poet and author. As may be
inferred from his want of education and course of
life, his ignorance of all beyond theatrical limits
was profound. He did not know who was the au-
thor of High Life below Stairs at the time he play-
ed the principal character in the piece. And at
a time when he was the delight of the town, the
companion of most of our wits, and the soul of our
musical societies, he, having made out a bill for
poetical recitations, was sportively asked by Judge
Cozine, "Who is that Anon you have got in the
bill among the poets?" And to the judge's asto-
nishment, he answered in serious earnest and with
an air of one showing his reading, "Oh sir, he is
one of our first poets."
As an actor he deserved great praise, and was
at that time the delight of the New-York audiences.
From Jaffier to Dionysius, from Vapid to Shelty,
he was the favourite, and was received with un-
bounded applause. His ear for music was good.
He had cultivated the art. He sung both serious
and comic songs.
From the Haunted Tower to the
MRS. HODGKINSON.
191
Highland Reel, no one pleased so much as Hodg-
kinson. He had played in the secondary theatres
of England with Cooke and Mrs. Siddons in
tragedy, and in comedy with Lewis and Munden,
Miss Farren and Mrs. Wells. Such was the man
and the actor brought from England by John
Henry to supplant Wignell in the favour of the
public. But the poisoned chalice was destined for
his own lips, and those of Hallam. All those cha-
racters which had been long considered as the
property of himself and partner were usurped by
the new comer, and the two kings were not long
left in possession of the throne they had refused to
share with Thomas Wignell. Such are the decrees
of "even-handed justice."
Among the recruits, Mrs. Hodgkinson was only
second to her husband in consequence. She had
been born to and educated for the stage. She was
the daughter of Brett, a singer at Covent Garden
and the Haymarket. The first time the writer
saw her was in 1784, at the Haymarket theatre,
London, as the page in the opera of The Noble Pea-
sant. Hodgkinson became acquainted with her at
Bath, and brought her to New-York, where they
were married by Bishop Moore. She was an amiable
woman and good wife. As an actress, in girls and
romps she was truly excellent. In high comedy
she was far above mediocrity, and even in tragedy
she possessed much merit. In Ophelia she was
touching in a powerful degree, as her singing gave
her advantages in this character which tragic ac-
192
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
tresses do not usually possess. Her forte was
opera. From her father she had derived instruc-
tions; and her husband's practice on the violin
continued to improve her in knowledge in this
branch of her profession. Her voice, both in
speaking and singing, was powerful and sweet.
Mrs. Hodgkinson was very fair, with blue eyes
and yellow hair approaching to the flaxen. Her
nose was prominent or Roman; her visage oval,
and rather long for her stature, which was below
the middling. Her general carriage on the stage
was suited to the character she performed; and in
romps, full of archness, playfulness, and girlish
simplicity. As a general actress, she was as
valuable in female as her husband was in male
characters.
The person next in importance to the Hodgkin-
sons among the new comers was King. He was
uncommonly handsome, but had not the skill that
might entitle him to the rank of an artist. He could
do nothing but as instructed by Hodgkinson.
Sometimes his tall, manly person and fine face,
under tuition and drilling, had an effect that might
be called imposing. But he was dissipated and
negligent of every duty.
Prigmore was a buffoon. He became the comic
old man of the company, and, with grimace, anti-
quated wigs, painted wrinkles and nose, became
a favourite for a time of the gods and the ground-
lings- of those whose praise is censure. We have
mentioned his refusal to play the part of Lord
1
PRIGMORE AND THE WIDOW.
193
Scratch, in Reynolds's first comedy, on the night
that the theatre opened. It will give some notion
of theatrical life and theatrical management, to
show the standing of this man in his own country
among actors before his emigration. Bernard,
whom we shall have occasion to mention here-
after, gives, in his reminiscences, this anecdote
and character of Prigmore. He says: He was a
man of some vanity and little merit, whose opinion
of himself was in inverse proportion to that of the
public. One of the peculiarities of this person was
to suppose (though he was neither handsome nor
insinuating), that every woman whom he saw,
through a mysterious fatality, fell in love with
him. There was a very benevolent widow living
in Plymouth, in respectable circumstances, who
frequently came to the theatre, and was kind
enough to inquire into the private situation of va-
rious members of the company. Among others,
she asked about Prigmore, and was told that he
had but a small salary, and made a very poor ap-
pearance. Hearing this, she remembered that she
had a pair of her late husband's indispensables in
the house, which she resolved to offer to him. A
servant, who was accordingly despatched to the
object of her charity, meeting one of the actors,
partly disclosed his business. The actor went in
search of Prigmore, and finding him, exclaimed,
'Prigmore, my boy, here's your fortune made at
last; here's a rich widow has fallen in love with
VOL. I.
0
194
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
+
you, and wants to see you." Prigmore, not sus-
pecting his roguery, was led to the servant in a
state of bewildered rapture, and by the latter was
informed, that the widow would be glad to see him
any morning it was convenient. He appointed the
following, and went home to his lodgings to in-
dulge in a day-dream of golden independence. His
friend (theatrical friend) in the mean time whis-
pered the truth through the green-room, where
there were two or three wicked enough to join in
the conspiracy by walking to Prigmore's house to
tender their congratulations: Prigmore, as may
be supposed, passed a sleepless night, and spent
an extra hour at his toilette next morning in adorn-
ing himself with a clean shirt and neckcloth. He
then sallied forth, and, on reaching the widow's,
was shown into her parlour, where, casting his
eyes around on the substantial sufficiency of the
furniture, he began to felicitate himself on the as-
pect of his future home.
The lady at length appeared; she was upon the
verge of forty, a very fashionable age at that time,
which, resting upon the shoulders of a very comely-
looking woman, seemed to be in character with
her comfortable dwelling. Prigmore's satisfaction
and her benevolence operated equally in producing
some confusion: at length a conversation com-
menced. She acquainted him that she had heard
his situation was not so agreeable as he could wish
-that his income was a confined one; she was,
PRIGMORE AND THE WIDOW.
195
therefore, desirous to do him all the service that
lay in her power. Prigmore, considering this as
an express declaration of her affection, was about
to throw himself at her feet, when she suddenly
summoned her servant, and exclaimed, " Rachel,
bring the breeches!"
These words astounded him. The widow, on
receiving the habiliments, folded them carefully,
and remarking that they were 'as good as new,'
begged his acceptance of them.
And was it for this you wanted me, madam?"
"Yes, sir." He put on his hat and walked to the
door with indignation. The good woman, as much
astonished as himself, followed him with "Won't
you take the breeches, sir?" He replied, pausing
at the door to make some bitter retort, "Wear
them yourself?"
he
Such a man would not be worthy of the space
here occupies, except as his character and insigni-
ficance at home comport finely with his assumed
importance after he had crossed the Atlantic. No
uncommon thing.
West, known as the leather breeches beau (dandy
was then unknown), was imported as the singer
and "walking gentleman" of the company.
Robins was to be scene-painter, occasionally to
sing a song, and join in the choruses.
West, junior, was literally nothing, and Miss
Brett (afterwards Mrs. King) was his equal; but,
as Mrs. Hodgkinson's sister, she was thrust before
o 2
196
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
the public by Hodgkinson's influence. She after-
wards married King, and, he dying in consequence
of excessive dissipation, she, happier than her
more talented sisters, married a German doctor
on Long Island, and made a notable housewife.
+
Those who now see actors moving in society
like other men, at least in appearance, dressed as
others dress, having the same fashions, manners,
and behaviour, as their fellow-citizens, and not to
be distinguished from them by the outside, can
hardly conceive the difference which then existed
between these recruits to the American company
and the townsfolk in all these particulars. Long
after others wore their hair short and of nature's
colour, Hodgkinson had powdered curls at each
side, and long braided hair twisted into a club or
knot behind; instead of pantaloons and boots,
breeches and stockings and shoes. This costume,
with his hat on one side, and an air and man-
ner then known by the appellation of theatrical,
marked him among thousands. King displayed
his fine person in another, but equally marked,
manner. West usually appeared in boots and
leather breeches, always new, and three gold-laced
button-holes on each side of the high upright col-
lar of a scarlet coat; while Robins. a very tall
and large-framed young man, in addition to the
gold-laced collar, wore three gold hatbands.
West soon involved himself in debt, and being
arrested by the breeches-maker for six pair of
WEST.
197
leather breeches, sent to Mr. Gaine, who still
printed the play-bills, though no longer at the
Bible and Crown, but only at the Bible, to request
bail, as the prisoner's name was in the bill for that
night. The old gentleman took off his spectacles
and exclaimed, "Six pair of leather breeches!
Why I never had one pair in my life! Six pair!
Why how many legs has the fellow got?"
#1
CHAPTER IX.
The Miser's Wedding-The Yellow Fever-Theatrical Dissensions-
Arbitration-Mrs. Hatton, a sister of the Kembles-Mrs. Mel-
moth-Celebration of the Twenty-fifth of November, 1793—Mrs.
Long-Sir Richard Crosby-Tammany-Ciceri-Mrs. Pownall-
Mrs. Wilson-Mr. and Mrs. Henry's last appearance-He sells
out to Hodgkinson and dies-Mrs. Henry's death-Tragedy of
Lord Leicester-Literary Clubs.
On the 27th of March, 1793, The Fashionable Lover
and No Song No Supper were performed in the
New-York Theatre, for the benefit of the widows
and orphans of a number of persons who were lost
in a violent storm.
During the benefits, and in the hottest weather,
though early in June, a comedy called The Miser's
Wedding, written by the author of The Father of
an Only Child, was played without study or re-
hearsal, and in opposition to Henry, by the influ-
ence of Hodgkinson, who brought it out for the
benefit of his wife's sister, Miss Brett. The cha-
racter intended for Henry was refused by him,
very properly under the circumstances, and ac-
cepted in opposition by Hallam. The piece was
murdered-it deserved death-and never heard
of more.
Hallam and Henry, after closing their theatre in
John Street, on the 14th of June, led their com-
pany, flushed with success, to Philadelphia, to
HODGKINSON'S QUARREL WITH THE MANAGERS. 199
reap a second harvest in that city, before the arri-
val of Wignell and his troop. But this campaign
with the new forces was soon ended, and the
generals retreated before that enemy which, as
we have said, met Wignell at his return-yellow
fever.
The theatre in John Street was again opened
on November 11th, 1793, the proceeds of the even-
ing being for the benefit of the sufferers from the
pestilence in Philadelphia.
Discord was now raging among the leaders of
the mimic world. Henry had found himself op-
posed and thwarted by Hodgkinson from the first,
and as the latter gained popularity, the former
found his situation becoming worse. Hallam,
upon his old Machiavelian policy of divide and
govern, blew the coals, and sided with Hodg-
kinson against Henry. The first ostensible cause
of quarrel was Henry not fulfilling engagements
made with Hodgkinson and wife, respecting parts,
benefits, &c., and in addition, a charge of neglect
and inhumanity when Hodgkinson was sick, after
flying from the yellow fever of Philadelphia. In-
humanity was a favourite word with Hodgkinson.
The affair was submitted to arbitrators, who met
Hallam, and Henry, and Hodgkinson. Hallam
sided with Hodgkinson. Henry submitted with-
out making defence, except by a general denial of
the positive assertions of his opponent; but he
appeared literally overwhelmed by the audacious
and unqualified assertions of the accuser, and by
200
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
the evident treachery of his partner. The parties
supped together, and the arbitrators declared in
writing, that the charge of inhumanity was un-
founded, but as by agreement Hodgkinson was
to have two benefits in Philadelphia, which the
calamity of the city had prevented, Hallam and
Henry should compensate him by paying the aver-
age profits of two nights of the present season to
him, the expenses per night being estimated at
two hundred dollars. The arbitrators recom-
mended that such harmony might thereafter exist
between the parties, as might "have a tendency
to make a profession in itself most respectable,
respectable in the eyes of mankind."
About this time one of the Kemble family arrived
in New-York, a sister of Mrs. Siddons, John Kem-
ble, Mrs. Whitlock, Charles Kemble, Stephen
Kemble, and the other children of that highly
talented family. This person was called Mrs.
Hatton, and had a husband with her, a vulgar
man. She introduced herself to the American
world by writing a play called Tammany, which
she presented to the Tammany Society, who pa-
tronised it, and recommended it to the theatre
through Hodgkinson, whose favour the authoress
had secured. The managers would not have dared
to reject any thing from the sons of St. Tammany,
and gladly received this production of the sister
of Mrs. Siddons, seasoned high with spices hot
from Paris, and swelling with rhodomontade, for
the sonorous voice of Hodgkinson, who was to
.
TAMMANY-MRS. MELMOTH.
201
represent the Indian saint. He did afterward
represent him, as we shall see, and very much re-
sembled the sons of the saint, who received the
Cherokee, Choctaw, and other chiefs, when they
marched from the East River, where they landed,
up Wall Street to the old Federal Hall, to be pre-
sented to the President and Congress of the United
States. How these sons of the forest must have
despised the sorry imitators of barbarism, who
followed in their train, with painted cheeks, rings
in their noses, and bladders smeared with red
ochre drawn over their powdered locks. Hodg-
kinson's Tammany dress was not so barbarous,
for the actor took care not to excite disgust or
laughter.
Another person, of more consequence in the
theatrical world, appeared at New York at this
time, and finding a cold reception from the mana-
gers, threw herself into the train and under the pro-
tection of Hodgkinson. This was Mrs. Melmoth.
Henry considered his wife as the only represen-
tative of Melpomene needed in the New-York
theatre, and received Mrs. Melmoth coldly. Mrs.
Hodgkinson did not yet play tragedy, and Hodg-
kinson wished to patronise any one in opposition
to Henry. Hallam looked on. The public were
told of Mrs. Melmoth's merits, and it was easy
to create a call for her. This was irresistible;
she appeared, and Mrs. Henry as a tragedian
disappeared.
.D
202
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
Mrs. Melmoth had been carried off from a board-
ing-school, when young, by Pratt, known as an
author under the name of Courtney Melmoth. They
both went on the stage, and played in several
companies in England and Ireland. They at length
separated, and she continued to bear his assumed
name. In 1782 she was a member of the Cork
company, said to be at the time the best out of
London. Miss Younge, afterwards Mrs. Pope, one
of the best actresses of the English stage in either
tragedy or comedy, and Miss Phillips, afterwards
Mrs. Crouch, one of the best singers, and at that
time, perhaps, the most beautiful girl in England
or Ireland, made part of the company. Mrs. Mel-
moth must have been a remarkably handsome
woman at the above-mentioned period. Bernard
says, in his amusing reminiscences, that she "went
out to America, where she purchased a plantation."
Mrs. Melmoth prudently saved enough to purchase
a small house on Long Island, between Brooklyn
and Fort Swift, with land enough to keep some
cows, whose milk contributed to supply the New-
York market. This trade, and a few scholars, as
boarders at the seminary she for some time kept at
the same place, occupied her latter years profitably.
She was Irish by birth, a Roman Catholic by reli-
gion, and died in the bosom of the mother church.
On the 20th of November, 1793, Mrs. Melmoth
appeared for the first time on the American stage.
The character she had chosen was Euphrasia, in
MRS. MELMOTH.
203
Murphy's tragedy of The Grecian Daughter. She
was the best tragic actress the inhabitants of New-
York, then living, had ever seen; unless it were
those who had travelled, and they were at that
time few. Mrs. Melmoth had played in Dublin and
in Edinburgh with distinguished success. She
had played in London without being distinguished.
She was now past her prime, her face still handsome,
her figure commanding, but not a little too large.
Her dimensions were far beyond the sphere of em-
bonpoint; and when Euphrasia invites Dionysius
to strike her instead of her emaciated father, crying
"Strike here, here's blood enough!" an involun-
tary laugh from the audience had nearly destroyed
not 'only all illusion but the hopes of the actress.
Her merit, however, carried her through with great
applause, and she long remained a favourite. By
degress, she relinquished the youthful heroines, and
in the matrons she was unexceptionable, unless
that she had rather too much of the Mrs. Overdone,
and, from a natural deficiency of the organs of
speech, could not give utterance to that letter which
her countrymen generally sound double, the letter r.
She often played the Grecian Daughter at this
period, but never repeated "Here's blood enough!"
Ten years had now passed since we had wit-
nessed the embarkation of the no longer hostile
British troops, and the slow and dispirited retreat
of the fleets of England, reluctantly turning their
prows from the beautiful harbour they had entered
in triumph. It was the tenth twenty-fifth of Novem-
204
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
ber on which the inhabitants of New-York had cele-
brated the day of the departure of their invaders
and the return of their exiles. The day was de-
voted, as usual, to rejoicing. The guns from the
batteries were echoed by the ships of war of the
French republic visiting the harbour; and Citizen
Genet, the first ambassador from republican France,
waiting on the governor, the same who had guided
the state through the scenes of war, delivered an
address, in which we remember this passage:
"The same all-powerful arm which delivered your
country from tyranny is now manifesting itself as
the protector of the French people." That same
evening, The Grecian Daughter was repeated. We
had joined in the enthusiasm of the day, we had
witnessed the scene at the governor's house in
Pearl Street, we now witnessed the scenes at the
theatre in John Street, the most impressive of
which were before the curtain.
One of the side boxes was filled by French
officers from the ships of war in the harbour. The
opposite box was filled with American officers. All
were in their uniforms, as dressed for the rejoicing
day. French officers and soldier-sailors (we find
the expression in a note made at the time), and
many of the New-York militia, artillery, infantry,
and dragoons, mingled with the crowd in the pit.
The house was early filled. As soon as the musi-
cians appeared in the orchestra, there was a
general call for "Ca ira." The band struck up.
The French in the pit joined first, and then the
CELEBRATION OF THE 25TH NOVEMBER.
205
whole audience. Next followed the Marseillois
Hymn. The audience stood up. The French took
off their hats and sung in a full and solemn chorus.
The Americans applauded by gestures and clap-
ping of hands. We can yet recall the figure and
voice of one Frenchman, who, standing on a bench
in the pit, sung this solemn patriotic song with a
clear, loud voice, while his fine manly frame seemed
to swell with the enthusiasm of the moment. The
hymn ended, shouts of Vivent les François Vivent!
les Americains! were reiterated until the curtain
drew up, and all was silent.
When the Grecian Daughter saves her father,
and strikes the tyrant to the earth, the applause
usually bestowed on this catastrophe was drowned
by the enthusiastic shouts of the excited specta-
tors. Before or since we have never witnessed or
felt such enthusiasm. Surely the theatre is a
powerful engine-for evil or for good.
In a preceding chapter of this work will be
found the name of Miss Cheer, as a principal actress
in the American company before the revolution.
She now made her appearance as Mrs. Long, in
The Jealous Wife of the elder Colman. Time had
deprived the lady of all that can attract the spec-
tator's attention to the moving pictures of the
stage, and, unless that attraction exists, the ima-
gination cannot be enlisted in the service of the
actor or author. Mrs. Long was received in silence
by the audience, and never heard of more. Miss
206
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
Cheer made her first appearance on the first open-
ing of the theatre in John Street, in 1767.
On the 28th of December, Sir Richard Crosby
made his appearance in the character of Barba-
rossa. He was announced as Mr. Richards, but
after some time resumed his name of Crosby,
dropping the distinguishing mark of his rank.
He was by birth and education a gentleman, and
spoke his parts with propriety; but his face was of
that species called pudding, and his person liter-
ally gigantic, without any of those swelling con-
tours which render the Hercules Farnese so admir-
able. The contours of Crosby were all misplaced,
and might remind a spectator of Foote's descrip-
tion of a nobleman of his day 'he looks like a
greyhound that has the dropsy."
Crosby was some inches in height over six feet,
and like many men who are conscious of being too
tall, he sunk instead of elevating his head, and the
stride of the tyrant was reduced to a gait between
a trot and a pace. That with all this against him
he should remain on the stage and be tolerated is
one of the proofs of the triumphs of mind over
matter. He was not likely to rival either of the
managers, or the managers' manager, and he was
supported behind the curtain and in the journals
of the day.
This gentleman was an Irishman; he dissipated
a fortune among the claret-drinkers of the land of
hospitality, had built a balloon, ascended in it,
HODGKINSON'S POPULARITY.
207
and, like the ambitious high-flying Greek, had
fallen into the sea. Sir Richard Crosby had been
picked up by some fishing-boats in the Irish chan-
nel, and preserved, to fall, alien to his caste, a
poor actor on the stage of the old American Com-
pany.
At about this date (December, 1793), the author
of the comedy of The Father of an only Child
finished a tragedy, which was read aloud by Hodg-
kinson to his companions, of whom at that time he
had many from among our literary citizens. The
tragedy was applauded, and destined for the
reader's benefit. Hodgkinson was now at the
height of his popularity. His salaries and his be-
nefits for himself and wife gave him more money
than he knew what to do with, and he, by advice
of some of his friends, bought land in the interior
- not long held. Popularity is intoxicating. The
favourite actor was late in making his appearance
one evening, and some one or two of the audience
hissed. He demanded the cause with an air of
authority. A writer in The Daily Advertiser of
December 25th, 1793, in a letter to Hallam and
Henry, says, "in a manner and in language which
would have been highly resented in the country
whence he came," Hodgkinson told a long story
to the audience of the insolence of some drunkard
in the street towards Mrs. Hodgkinson, and his
beating the ruffian. All this the writer says was
unnecessary: "we wanted not recounted the words
and actions of the ruffian towards Mrs. H., nor a
208
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
particular description of the lady's shrieks, &c.
The path of an actor," continued he, "is extremely
plain; let him study his author, and endeavour to
attain the summit of his professional excellence,
with a decorous respect to the taste and judgment
of the public." The writer described the audience
of New-York as forbearing, and "never much dis-
posed to look severely into the private actions or
characters of performers."
The writer above quoted proposed Hallam
(without naming him) as a model for imitation.
Hallam had now begun to feel the influence of
Hodgkinson, cherished by him against Henry, as
rather detrimental to himself.
On the 28th, a friend of Hodgkinson's published
a vindication of his conduct, and an appeal to the
public, in which we will notice these words: "In
private life his conduct has procured him a large
and respectable circle of friends; his splendid ta-
lents, united with the politeness of his manners,
renders him a welcome visiter in the first families
of the city." His "refinement of mind" is like-
wise stated. Such are the records of the day.
Politeness or refinement he had none. But at this
time he had a large and respectable circle of
friends, or rather admirers, attracted by his popu-
larity on the stage and his convivial dinners and
suppers. His visits were soon found unsuited to
the families of citizens, and by degrees even the
attraction of song and wine ceased to draw the
respectable to his habitation.
↑
OPERA OF TAMMANY.
209
On the 3d of March, the long-forthcoming opera
of Tammany, from the pen of Mrs. Hatton, ap-
peared. The Daily Advertiser called upon repub-
licans to support this effort of a female, filled with
"simple and virtuous sentiments." It is needless
to say that the opera was "received with un-
bounded applause." The Daily Advertiser has a
communication that places this drama among the
highest efforts of genius. It was literally a tissue
of bombast. The following, extracted from the
Daily Advertiser of the 7th of March, 1794, shows
that all the visiters of the theatre were not blinded
by the puffs of the time. "I am among the many
who were diverted with the piece in your paper of
yesterday, signed a citizen, particularly where it
supposes that surprise at the merits of the opera
lately exhibited astonished our literati into silence.
Much credit is due to Messrs. Hallam and Henry
for the pains they have taken in decorations, sce-
nery, &c.; and I doubt not, a citizen' will, when-
ever Tammany is performed, hear the warm though
juvenile exclamation, 'O what a beautiful sight!"
A more severe and well-written communication
takes notice of the ruse made use of to collect an
audience for the support of the piece, by circu-
lating a report that a party had been made up to
hiss it; and goes on to describe the audience as-
sembled as made up of "the poorer class of me-
chanics and clerks," and of bankrupts who ought
to "be content with the mischief they had already
VOL. I.
P
210
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
done, and who might be much better employed
than in disturbing a theatre."
The disturbance alluded to was an attack upon
James Hewitt, the leader in the orchestra, for not
being ready with a popular air when called upon.
Heretofore the scenic decorations of the Ameri-
can theatre had been lamentably poor. Henry
had not brought out with his recruits any artist
to paint his scenes. Those of the old stock were
originally of the lowest grade, and had become
black with age. At this time, Charles Ciceri
painted the scenes for Tammany. They were
gaudy and unnatural, but had a brilliancy of co-
louring, reds and yellows being abundant. Ciceri
afterwards made himself a better painter, and
proved himself an excellent machinist. He was a
man of exemplary habits, active mind, quick dis-
cernment, fertile in resources, and firm in purpose.
His temper was quick, and his imperfect know-
ledge of our language occasioned misunderstand-
ings and jealousies in his career as a scene-pain-
ter, in times we have not yet reached. His story,
like that of many whose stories are never told, was
a romance of real life. Born in Milan, he lost his
father when he was seven years of age, and was
sent to an uncle in Paris. The uncle was strict,
and made him improve the opportunity of acquir-
ing the rudiments of science. He was likewise
taught a little landscape drawing. The boy, how-
ever, was headstrong, and the uncle probably se-
CHARLES CICERI.
211
vere. Ciceri several times eloped. On one occa-
sion he ran away and took the road to Flanders.
After many adventures, the boy found his life abroad
was worse than at home, and begged his way back
to Paris almost in a starving condition. As he
approached manhood, he became ungovernable,
again left his uncle, and enlisted in a troop of horse.
After serving three months, his friends purchased
his discharge. At length, determined to get out
of the reach of family control, he, when about
sixteen or seventeen years of age, again eloped,
enlisted in a regiment destined for St. Domingo,
and, as a soldier, passed some years at Cape Fran-
çois. Here he formed the determination of ac-
quiring property for himself, and he obtained
permission to work at such employment as could
be obtained in the town. It was the usage for
the soldiers to purchase permission to pursue civil
avocations by paying a portion of their earnings
to the officer. The manager of the theatre wanted
a scene-painter, and Ciceri made himself suffi-
ciently master of the mode of managing colours
in size, and with his little knowledge of landscape,
and greater proficiency in mathematics, he became
invaluable. At the end of six months from com-
mencing foot-soldier, he was in possession of
money enough to procure his discharge, and freight
a vessel for the United States, determined to make
his fortune. In five years he had accumulated a
little fortune. St. Domingo became unsafe, and he
determined to revisit Europe. He went to Paris,
P 2
212
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
:!
and was employed as assistant scene-painter.
He visited Bordeaux, and found employment in
the splendid theatre of that place. The reign
of terror drove him to England, and he was en-
gaged at the opera house in London. With in-
creased property he embarked as a merchant for
St. Domingo, taking Jamaica in his way from
England, but, finding it unsafe to visit his former
place of residence at the Cape, he embarked with
all his property for Philadelphia. Shipwrecked on
the Bahamas, he lost all but life, and, after re-
maining seventeen days on a desert island, he was
carried to Providence by a fisherman. At Provi-
dence, he, being almost starving, was asked what
he could do. He answered "paint." He was of-
fered employment as a miniature painter, and as
he had said he was a painter and an Italian, no
excuse would be taken. The scene-painter pro-
cured a piece of ivory, and was paid for a portrait
in miniature, though he never could draw a face
that might not pass as well for an owl as a man.
He made friends, found his way to Philadelphia,
commenced scene-painter again, in the new thea-
tre then building in that city, under Milbourne,
the company not having yet arrived. Hallam and
Henry engaged him for the old playhouse in South-
wark, and, when the yellow fever of 1793 broke
out, he came in their service to New-York.
first knowledge the writer had of him was as the
painter of the scenery of his play of Fontainville
Abbey. His architectural scenery was always
The
MRS. WRIGHTEN.
213
good. He was long a most valuable auxiliary to
the corps dramatique, and a faithful friend to the
writer, in whose service he acquired sufficient pro-
perty to send a stock of merchandise, with a part-
ner, to St. Domingo, where Ciceri lost the goods,
and the partner his head. He persevered, and,
when his manager failed, commenced trader in
French merchandise between New-York and Paris,
finally retiring with a competence to his nativę
country, whence he sent his friendly remembrances
to one who had not provided so well for old age
as he had done.
The visit of Henry for recruits, and of Wignell
to organize and fill a regiment, seems to have con-
veyed the intelligence to the players of England
that a continent existed over sea, called America,
where some of the people were white, spoke Eng-
lish, and went to see plays. We have mentioned
the visit of Mrs. Hatton, who kindly came to in-
struct us in the history of the country, the value
of liberty, and the duties of the patriot, and that
of Mrs. Melmoth, who, whatever were her mo-
tives, added to the rational pleasures of society by
her skill as an actress; and about this time, an
actress long celebrated in London in comedy and
opera, as Mrs. Wrighten, made her appearance in
New-York as Mrs. Pownall.
This actress was a formidable rival to Mrs.
Hodgkinson. But the latter had youth on her
side. The skill of the veteran will not always
compensate for the charms which belong alone to
214
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the freshness of youth. Mrs. Pownall had not
lost her powers of song or of acting, which were
both very great. Had she been permitted by
Hodgkinson to play Margaretta, in No Song No
Supper, Mrs. Hodgkinson would not have played
the part again. What is called chance was pro-
pitious to Mrs. Hodgkinson, for, shortly after Mrs.
Pownall made her debut, she broke her leg, and
was for a long time incapable of exerting her
talents. At length she appeared on crutches in a
musical piece put together for the occasion, the
plot, of which there was none, furnished by Mrs.
Hatton, and the dialogue (introducing an apology)
and the songs, by Mrs. Pownall.
The farce of The Irish Widow was got up on
the 12th of March, 1794, to introduce an actress
of the name of Wilson in the Widow Brady.
As marking the state of the public mind at this
time, we notice a circumstance, otherwise insigni-
ficant: Hodgkinson, when he came on the stage for
Captain Flash, in Miss in her Teens, dressed, as
the part always is, in an English uniform, was
hissed and called upon by the French party, who
could not look at an English officer's coat without
being in a rage, to "take it off." He came for-
ward, and, to the satisfaction of the French parti-
sans, said he represented a coward and a bully.
Unfortunately, this was running on Charybdis to
avoid Scylla, and the English partisans threatened
vengeance on the actor. Always ready to speak
or to write, Hodgkinson came out in The Daily
HODGKINSON AS CAPTAIN FLASH.
215
Advertiser, and, to satisfy all parties, professed to
give the exact words of his "address" made on
compulsion, as follows:-"Sir, the character I am
going to portray is a bully and a coward, and
however you may choose to quarrel with a red-
coat, you would probably be a great deal more
offended had I improperly disgraced the uniform
of this or any other country, by wearing it on the
back of a poltroon." Here it is to be observed,
he admits that to wear the uniform of any country
on the back of such a character was to disgrace it,
and he had worn an English uniform. He goes on
to say, that he was placed before the audience to
represent an English officer, and should have
deserved reprobation if he had worn an American
or French uniform. This statement, under the
signature of Verax, only made matters worse
with the actor's countrymen, and other adherents
of Old England; and on the 13th of March, 1794,
the following appeared in print:
The situation I was placed in on Saturday evening last, and the
explanation I was compelled to enter into, having given an opportu-
nity to some evil-minded person to grossly mistake my words, I beg,
through the medium of your paper, to lay before that part of the
public who have heard the fabrication, the true meaning of what I
said—” However angry you may be at the sight of a red-coat, you
would probably be more displeased, had I appeared in the uniform of
this or any other country, usually worn on the stage, for a character
that is a disgrace to his cloth, by being a bully and a poltroon."
This was my meaning, and so plain, that I thought to misrepresent
it was impossible; for I trust it will need no great argument to con-
vince, that if I, who have constantly worn a British uniform for a
British officer, had upon this occasion altered it, I might have
expected that just resentment which pointed insult deserves. How-
ever, upon this, as every other occasion, I trust to the candour of my
1
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
216
fellow-citizens at large, and leave the being, capable of an endea-
vour at injury, to the disappointment and malice of his own heart.—
I am, gentlemen, &c.
(Signed)
JOHN HODGKINSON.
In the beginning of April, Henry, who had
gained great credit in the character of Beverley,
in The Gamester, made an effort to revive his
popularity, and the play was performed, he and
his wife playing the hero and heroine. But this
was considered as injurious to the young trage-
dian, who would play all, and wished that Mrs.
Melmoth should be the only tragic actress. The
house was thin, and the public were told in The
Daily Advertiser, that it was owing to the pre-oc-
cupation of parts by incompetent persons, when
others more capable were ready to fill them.—
This was Henry's last effort at resistance to the
fate he had invited. He made overtures to Hodg-
kinson for a sale of his share in the theatrical
partnership, which were eagerly met; and we find
the next theatrical campaign opened under the
firm of Hallam and Hodgkinson.
In a letter from John Hodgkinson to Lewis
Hallam, dated Philadelphia, October 12th, 1803,
(when Hodgkinson was endeavouring to obtain a
commission of bankruptcy by the aid of Richard
Morris of New-York, and Richard Potter of Phi-
ladelphia, and Hallam had made a claim of debt),
a threat of exposing Hallam occurs, which throws
light upon this transaction, and on the characters
of both Hodgkinson and Hallam. It is in these
words:
•
EXPOSURE OF HALLAM.
217
I wish to hold you again forward to the world, and without being
compelled to show the world too much, or adverting to any cause that
may have tended to produce a share of our present misery. Recol-
lect, and weigh this calmly, that if I am obliged to give any further
statement of our affairs, I must BEGIN them, and that beginning must
run thus. In the year 1794, John Henry, weary of the trouble he met
with from various sources in the management of the property at that
time known and generally styled the old American Company, offered
by his friend Hugh Smith, to sell to John Hodgkinson all his share
of the said property, in all American theatres; and John Hodgkinson,
wishing to purchase, advised with Lewis Hallam, who seemed anxious
that said Hodgkinson should become a purchaser, but at the same
time wished that himself might be a purchaser from Henry, and that
Hodgkinson should repurchase from Hallam. This was done, and
Hodgkinson purchased from Hallam such part as he conceived Hallam
had purchased from Henry, giving Hallam exactly the counterpart of
the deeds Hallam had given Henry for the payment. It has
since appeared, that Lewis Hallam, so far from selling John Hodg-
kinson the same proportion, only held at the period he purchased two
shares out of six, or one-third of the property, and that John Henry
sold Lewis Hallam three shares for 10,000 dollars-and this additional
one share not only added to himself, but also saddled Hodgkinson
with half of an annuity to Stephen Wools, which was paid by John
Hodgkinson to said Wools to the hour of his death; and all this
while John Hodgkinson had purchased under the idea that Hallam
and Henry were equal holders and partners; nor was Hodgkinson
made acquainted till some years after of the disadvantageous bargain
he had made—though Hallam, by this contract, supposing the shares
to amount to 10,000 dollars annually, would have received 5000
dollars instead of 3333 33! Mark, dear sir, that I do not find fault
with that now, or arraign it, but it is a solemn truth which I don't
wish to be compelled to give to the assignees. Yours sincerely,
JOHN HODGKINSON.
From the stage of life, as well as the stage of the
theatre, Henry and his family were at once swept.
His daughter eloped, and soon after died. While
on a voyage to Rhode Island, he died on board a
small coasting vessel, and was buried without
ceremony under the sand of an island in the
218
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
sound. His wife, who was with him, it is sup-
posed never recovered the shock, and died de-
prived of reason at Philadelphia, 25th April, 1795,
after having had the dead body of her husband
brought to her from its first place of unceremoni-
ous interment.
We find a memorandum that the theatre was
shut on the 12th of April, 1794, on account of
Passion-week, and reopened on the 21st for the
benefits, which continued until the 28th of June,
when the last season of the theatrical partnership
of Hallam and Henry closed. During these bene-
fits, the first American tragedy that was performed
by professed players, was brought out for the
benefit of Mr. Hodgkinson.
We have already mentioned that a tragedy by
the author of The Father of an Only Child had
been read to a literary company by Hodgkinson.
It was first called Leicester. It was now played,
24th April, 1794, under the title of The Fatal De-
ception, or the Progress of Guilt. It was afterward
published under the title of Lord Leicester.
The characters and cast stand thus :-
Henry Cecil,
Dudley Cecil,
Edred,
Mr. Hodgkinson.
King.
Richards.
Hallam.*
Martin.
Mrs. Hodgkinson.
Melmoth.
Leicester,
Howard,
Elwina,
Matilda,
* Sir Richard Crosby.
SHELTY'S TRAVELS.
219
As the author had formerly written an interlude
for Wignell when he was the favourite Darby, and
called it Darby's Return, so now he gave Hodgkin-
son, the delight of the public in Shelty, a piece
called Shelty's Travels. The house was over-
flowing-the applause was great-and the actor
cleared full 500 dollars above the expenses, which
were 200 dollars. The play was forgotten after a
few repetitions, but one line was often repeated by
the author's friends, as a description of a youth
driven from his parental home,
A barefoot pilgrim on a flinty world.
Nevertheless, as a tragedy it is justly doomed
to oblivion. Mrs. Hodgkinson on this occasion first
played an important part in this branch of the
drama, and evinced great powers. Hodgkinson, Mrs.
Melmoth, and Mrs. Hodgkinson, produced great
effect in their respective characters: of the re-
mainder of the performers, some were passable,
while others were attended by all the imperfection
of a first exhibition, united to the unavoidable
hurry of a benefit play. A few words on the subject
of our literary men.
Of those giants in letters and politics who, from
being dependent colonists of a country that de-
spised them, raised an independent empire whose
inhabitants to the latest ages will adore them,
the Franklins, Jeffersons, Hopkinsons, Henrys,
Adamses, Dickinsons, and their fellow-labourers,
we shall not speak. They had created a vast
220
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
republic, whose institutions were so dissimilar to
those of Europe, that a new tone seemed necessary
for that literature which was to form the education
of the rising generations. To open the highways
by which Truth should approach all who desired
her acquaintance required the united labour of her
friends. Bands of pioneers were formed, who
aided each other in removing rubbish, and hewing
down prejudices, of stubborn texture from long
growth, and mischievous from the veneration
bestowed upon worthless old age.
The first pioneers in this patriotic path-making
were, at the time we are now considering, many
of them yet in existence. Others had arisen and
were at work, opening the way for the Coopers,
Irvings, Pauldings, Bryants, Walshs, Hallocks,
Channings, and the hundreds who are the pride
or the hope of the present day. The dramatic au-
thor, whose tragedy has passed under our notice,
was connected with the aspirants who resided in
New-York. He was intimately associated with
Elihu H. Smith, Charles Brockden Brown, James
Kent, Edward Miller, Samuel L. Mitchill, Sam-
uel Miller, Wm. Johnson, Wm. Coleman, John
Wells, and others who have distinguished them-
selves in the regions of fancy and science. Filled
with youthful ardour, and pleased with the ap-
plause of the public and the encouragement of his
associates, he thought only of future triumphs; and
tragedies and comedies, operas and farces, occu-
pied his mind, his time, and his pen. The young
LITERARY CLUB.
221
men above named, with Richard Alsop, Mason
Cogswell, and Theodore Dwight, of Connecticut,
formed a club, projected many literary works, and
executed some. A magazine was supported for a
short time a review was published. Some of
these gentlemen had previously been associated
under the name of the Philological Society. Pre-
haps to this association, of which Noah Webster
was a member, may be attributed those labours
which have given to the world the most perfect
English dictionary in existence.
The youthful
dramatist owed much to such associates, and par-
ticularly to the brotherly bond which long subsisted
between him, Elihu Hubbard Smith, and Charles
Brockden Brown-only broken by death. Let us
return to the theatre.
Having brought our history down to the abdica-
cation of Henry and succession of Hodgkinson, we
will commence another chapter with the open-
ing of the new house in Philadelphia. For a list
of the company at the time of its arrival, see
Chapter VIII.
But before we drop the curtain on the dramatic
reign of Kings Hallam and Henry, we must men-
tion one act of sovereignty which we omitted in its
chronological order. During the season of 1790-1,
they produced a farce, in two acts, written by one
of the company, Mr. J. Robinson, which was re-
ceived with universal applause by the public. It
was called The Yorker's Stratagem. The scene is
laid in the West Indies, and the principal charac-
222
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
ter, the Yorker, whose stratagem is to personate
a Yankee trader for the purpose of obtaining a
West Indian heiress, was performed by Mr.
Harper. There is much dramatic skill evinced in
this trifle, and dialogue well suited to the cha-
racters. The author played in it as a mongrel
creole, a kind of tawny Mungo.
0
CHAPTER X.
Opening of the new Theatre in Philadelphia by Wignell and Reinagle
-Mrs. Oldmixon-Sir John Oldmixon-Mr. Moreton-Mr. Fen-
nell-Mr. and Mrs. Francis-Mr. Green-Mr. Harwood-Mr.
Darley-Mr. John Darley-Mr. Blissett-Mr. and Mrs. Whitlock
-Mr. Chalmers - Mr. and Mrs. Marshall-Mr. Bates-Miss
Broadhurst.
AFTER the long delay occasioned by the yellow
fever, Wignell opened the splendid theatre, which
had been prepared for him in 1792, on the 17th of
February, 1794. He had brought from England
Mr. Milbourne, an excellent scene-painter, who
decorated the house and furnished the necessary
scenery, as far surpassing any stage decorations
heretofore seen in the country as the building sur-
passed former American theatres.
The plan of this building was furnished by Mr.
Richards, who was Wignell's brother-in-law, and
secretary to the Royal Academy. The model was
burnt when the house was consumed. Mr. Rich-
ards likewise presented to the managers several
very fine scenes, and the beautiful drop-curtain,
which was destroyed likewise by the fire of 1820.
The part of the theatre before the curtain formed
a semicircle, having two complete rows of boxes,
and higher up, on a line with the gallery, side-
boxes. The boxes were supported by pillars
formed of bunches of reeds, tied together with red
224
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
fillets and gilt. Festoons of curtains and nume-
rous chandeliers gave a brilliant effect to the whole.
The first dramatic pieces presented to the public of
Philadelphia by the new company were The Castle
of Andalusia and Who's the Dupe.
The orchestra, under the direction of Reinagle,
who sat at the harpsichord, was as much superior
in power and talent as the other departments of
the Drama.
Mr. Reinagle was the brother of the great
animal painter, and father of our worthy fellow-
citizen Mr. Hugh Reinagle; he was a very genteel
man and skilful musician. The first piece played
was an opera, and we are informed that, notwith-
standing the great dramatic strength of the com-
pany of 1793, Mr. Wignell was led to rest his
hopes on the operatic department. Mr. Wood
says, he has often declared to me, that, had he
devoted all his care to the Drama, instead of
music, he might have been rich instead of a
bankrupt." [He opened in Annapolis, as in Phi-
ladelphia, with The Castle of Andalusia.] "The
first year I visited Philadelphia," says Mr. Wood,
"I saw the opera of Robin Hood greatly played
and sung, to a house of forty dollars.'
66
""
The same friendly correspondent has furnished
us with a cast of Every One has his Fault, as per-
formed by Wignell's company in 1794, which will
give an idea of the strength of the corps to all who
remember the principal performers, or who may
turn back to this page after reading the notices we
MRS. OLDMIXON.
225
shall give of them. "Lord Norland, Mr. Whitlock
(his best part); Captain Irwin, Fennell; Placid,
Moreton; Sir Robert Ramble, Chalmers; Solus,
Morris; Hammond, Greene; Mrs. Placid, Mrs.
Shaw; Miss Spinster, Mrs. Bates; Lady Elinor,
Mrs. Whitlock; Miss Wooburn, Mrs. Morris; Ed-
ward (a matchless performance), Mrs. Marshall.”
Mrs.
We proceed to give a sketch of the lives and
dramatic education of some of the most prominent
performers in this very efficient company.
Oldmixon was first seen by the writer in London
as Miss George, filling the station of first comic
singer, and the line of comic girls and chamber-
maids, at the Haymarket theatre. She held the
same station at Drury Lane in the winter. She
was so distinguished a favourite at this time,
1785-6, that her portrait was exhibited in com-
pany with John Palmer's, at Somerset House, by
Russell, the best painter in pastils or crayons that
we remember. The expression was very charac-
teristic, full of archness, and might have passed
for that of the Comic Muse. Mrs. Oldmixon re-
tained for the many years she was on the stage
great vivacity and force; in the later years of
her stage history, she frequently played the old
woman of comedy, and with peculiar effect.
She changed her name by marriage with Sir
John Oldmixon, recorded by Bernard as the Bath
beau. As Lady Oldmixon, a stage-player would
appear rather incongruous, and unsanctioned by
custom; the title does not appear in the play-bills,
VOL. I.
Q
226
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
neither was it assumed in private life.
The lady
was called universally Mrs. Oldmixon, except by
old Philip, the doorkeeper of the stage, who was
a German by birth, and had been brought hither
with other slaves of the Prince of Hesse. Philip
could see no propriety in putting the Mrs. before
the "old." "De fools! dey are always axing for
Mrs. Oldmixon! Mrs. Oldmixon! ven I tell 'em
dey mean old Mrs. Mixon, and yet dey vont larn.”
Such was the complaint the porter made of the
stupid Yankees to the lady herself; and none
would enjoy the joke more.
Sir John, though not an actor or an author, is
so intimately connected with the stage, that we
must not omit him. Bernard, who will be entitled
to a place in our narrative of stage events, and
collection of theatrical characters, says he first
met Sir John at Bath in 1784.
"It was during one of my morning calls that I
met Sir John Oldmixon at his lordship's :" [one
Lord Conyngham, who was the model of Bernard's
Lord Ogilby] "and the flattering introduction
I then received improved our previously distant
street acquaintance into a lasting intimacy. This
gentleman, from the refinement of his dress and
manners, bore the peculiar appellation of the Bath
beau, and upon all points of good breeding was
looked up to as an oracle. This distinction in the
metropolis of fashion he was not slightly proud of;
it acknowledged him as the legitimate successor
in the dynasty of Nash. Certainly, the mechanism
SIR JOHN OLDMIXON.
227
of his dress was a profound study, and his science
in manœuvring a snuff-box and a cane was, for
many months in my eyes, an impenetrable mys-
tery. I have been told that Sir John was the
original of Mrs. Cowley's Lord Sparkle; he cer-
tainly was of mine, accident having thrown him
in my way on my first visit to Bath. Whatever
success I obtained in the fops and fine gentlemen
(which were the characters I played mostly in
London), I am willing to acknowledge that I owe
it all to the strong impressions I received from
Sir John Oldmixon.
the additional celebrity of having founded an order
of his own--the full curl' order, as it might have
been called, grateful to the memories of the peru-
quiers of the last generation.
Our first perform-
ance of Which is the Man was so successful, that
in the course of the ensuing week it was repeated.
The next day Sir John met and stopped me in the
street, saying, 'Bernard, I saw your Sparkle last
night; they say you imitate me!' 'It is my object,
Sir John,' I replied, to imitate the manners of an
English nobleman!' 'Ah, ah, true; but your dress
was incorrect.' 'In that respect,' said I, I must
confess, Sir John, I did intend to imitate you.
'Oh no, quite wrong; you had only twelve curls
of a side; I never wear under sixteen!'"
But this gentleman enjoyed
Such is the picture an English writer gives of
an English nobleman. Our motive for introducing
this extract is to contrast the situation of this
man, "the successor" of Nash, the oracle of fashion
Q 2
228
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
་
1796.
"in the metropolis of fashion," with that he held
in society among the plebeians of the New World.
The following appeared in the London papers of
"Sir John Oldmixon, whose equipage was
once the gaze of Bond Street, is now a gardener
near Philadelphia. He drives his own cabbages
to market in his own cart! His wife, formerly Miss
George, sings at the theatre, and returns in the
conveyance which brought vegetables for sale."
The fact is, Sir John did, with the earnings of
his wife, purchase or hire a cottage at German-
town, and drove vegetables to market in a con-
veyance which would allow of his wife's going to
town to attend her professional duties, and return
when they were over for the time. Thus a family
was maintained and educated by industry and
economy, and Sir John only retained of the Bath
beau the snuff-box, which he certainly tapped,
opened, and presented with the air of a finished
gentleman, and manners which indicated his fa-
miliarity with a state of society very dissimilar
to that found in America. What broke up this
Germantown establishment, and separated the
family is not for us to enquire into-most pro-
bably something more congenial to the Bath beau
than the American gardener. In 1816, Sir John
was living obscurely at Sag Harbour, Long
Island.
The principal gentleman comedian in this splen-
did company, at the time under review, was Mr.
Moreton. He was, as remembered by the writer,
MR. MORETON.
229
the most elegant gentleman performer that our
long acquaintance with the London and American
theatres has made known to us. Tall, slender,
straight-limbed, and perfectly at ease, his regular
features, light complexion, and blue eyes, with the
perfect air and manner of a finished gentleman,
united to the talent, vivacity, and mind, which
must combine to make a real actor, gave to the
spectator a combination rarely seen on any stage.
Mr. Wood, the worthy successor to this gentle-
man in the Philadelphia company, has furnished
us, in answer to our inquiries, among other infor-
mation important to our work, with the following
notice of Mr. Moreton.
"Of Mr. Moreton, my splendid predecessor, thus
much I know from Mr. Wignell (the best authority).
John Pollard, Moreton being an assumed name,
was born in America, somewhere in the neigh-
bourhood of Niagara Falls. He was in early life
taken to England, and from thence sent to India,
and became assistant cashier in the Calcutta Bank.
His confidence was abused by a friend, whom
he suffered to overdraw the bank to a large
amount, on the most sacred assurances that it
should be replaced in time to prevent the irre-
gularity being known. The overdraw was re-
paid, but not in time to prevent the knowledge
of Pollard's imprudence-the friend failed to keep
his word, and Pollard lost his situation, and the
confidence necessary to success-he returned to
England, and there met with Wignell, who en-
230
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
gaged him as a member of his company in 1793.
His first thirty or forty appearances, I have been
assured by Mr. Wignell and others, were any thing
but promising: but his early good breeding and
close study soon made him the first of high come-
dians, either native or imported. I declare I think
him in the easy (not spirited) comedy the best,
except Lewis, I ever saw.
""
Mr. Wood saw Mr. Lewis after he had passed
his meridian, when he played the characters which
were written for him by Reynolds, Morton, and
Colman; the writer saw him in earlier life, the de-
light of London, in Ranger, Mercutio, the Copper
Captain, Sir Charles Racket, and that range of
better comedy which preceded. He was more
like Moreton than any other actor we have seen,
and his superior as an artist. Moreton died be-
fore he could have attained the skill his talents
would have certainly achieved.
He
Mr. Wood says, "Moreton was in very ill health
a long time. The last part he played was Lo-
thario, in The Fair Penitent. (I saw him in it).
He was obliged to lie long on the stage after fall-
ing; the night being severe, he was taken into
the greenroom in a very exhausted state.
never played again. He died of consumption.
His case, like many we meet with in that disease,
was a very flattering one. I spent an hour with
him on Friday, when he talked confidently of play-
ing soon. Calling on Monday, he was dead-
passing away as in a gentle sleep-nor was his
MR. FENNELL.
231
death noticed by his attendant." He died April
2d, 1798, at Philadelphia, and the theatre was
closed three days, as a tribute of respect to his
memory.
Mr. James Fennell was born in London, re-
ceived a good education, which was finished at
the University of Cambridge. Rejecting the
study of the law, he offered himself to the mana-
ger of the Edinburgh theatre in 1787, under the
assumed name of Cambray, and was well received
by the public in the characters of Jaffier and
Othello. Othello continued long a favourite cha-
racter with Fennell, and with another sooty-face
(Zanga), placed him high among the heroes of
tragedy. Returning to London, he offered him-
self to Mr. Harris, and, still under the name of
Cambray, played with some success, though not
enough to fix him on the boards of Covent Garden.
He returned to Edinburgh, and played with
some eclat, but a dispute arising respecting parts
with a favourite actor, the populace drove Mr.
Fennell from the stage. A law-suit was the con-
sequence, and after a time a return to London,
where in 1789 he again had an engagement at
Covent Garden, without rising in the profession.
Between this time and his engagement with
Wignell for Philadelphia, he appeared in Paris
as my Lord Anglais, and supported an hotel in
great style, at the expense of all who trusted to
his specious manners and fine appearance.
232
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
He was a remarkably handsome figure, although
above the just height, being considerably over six
feet; his complexion and hair light, with a blush
ready for every occasion on which a blush could
be graceful. His features were not handsome, his
nose being round, thick, and too fleshy, and his
eyes a very light grey, with yellowish lashes and
brows. His appearance in the Moors, Othello and
Zanga, was noble; his face appeared better and
more expressive, and his towering figure superb.
His Glenalvon was a fine piece of acting, and,
generally, his villains appeared very natural. De-
ceit seemed to be at home in all his words and
actions.
His style of living in Philadelphia was modelled
on the plan he had tried in Paris, and, with the
same short-sighted system of dishonest extrava-
gance, ended in the same disgraceful poverty,
without the opportunity of flight. He was the
idol of the literary youth of Philadelphia, and for
a time revelled in the luxury of stylish living, and
applause on and off the stage. We shall often
have occasion to mention this singular man, who
abused the gifts of his Creator, and the cares be-
stowed upon his education by his father; and, after
a series of acts which, if an honourable and liberal
profession could be disgraced by an unworthy
member, would have disgraced it-and after all
that obloquy and misery inseparable from a career
of fraud-after sporting with the credulity of the
MR. FRANCIS.
233
inhabitants on the seashore, from Chesapeake-bay
to Massachusetts, by pretended new modes of
making salt, and with that of every city of note
at that time in the Union by other pretences-
after passing from the palace to the prison again
and again—this unhappy man appeared for the
last time on the stage of the Chestnut Street the-
atre, where he had been idolized in 1794, and ex-
hibited the powerless remains of what God had
made man, and vice had debased to a wretched
driveller. He was allowed to attempt Lear in
1815, but even his memory was gone. And the
scene of his former triumphs witnessed his last
public exhibition of pitiable imbecility-the fruit
of selfish indulgence, deviation from truth, and
final intemperance. He died shortly after, in what,
according to the course of nature, would have
been the season of perfect manhood.
Of Mr. and Mrs. Francis little is known pre-
vious to their coming to America. Mr. Francis
had been a dancer, but for many years gout had
possession of his legs and feet, a sore enemy to
grace and activity. He played old men respect-
ably. When Cooke arrived in Philadelphia, he
met in Francis and his wife old companions of the
provincial theatres, and hearty friends. Billy
Francis and George Frederick clasped hands with
the cordiality of two sailors, who had navigated
the same ship, shared the same toils, storms, and
pleasures, and met again in a foreign country, after
a separation of years.
234
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
Mrs. Francis, always respectable in her profes-
sion, was in private life a model of cheerful bene-
volence. This worthy pair, having no children,
adopted and shared their professional earnings with
those who had no parents. Joseph Harris, Miss
Hunt, late Mrs. Bray of the Boston theatre, and
another orphan, may attest their parental care and
beneficence, and the inhabitants of Philadelphia
generally their estimable qualities. Francis died
worn out by frequent attacks of the gout; Mrs.
Francis lives at an advanced age, cheerful and
happy, though rendered inactive by a partial para-
lysis. Sickness, decay, and death, is the lot of all;
cheerfulness, resignation, and happiness, is the
reward of those who love their God and their neigh-
bour-the benevolent.
Mr. Greene was not much of an actor when he
enlisted with Wignell, but a young, tall, good-
looking man. Of his previous history we know
nothing. He married a pretty girl, Miss Willems,
who came out from England at the same time, and
was a member of the corps. Greene became a good
second actor in first parts, was the manager of
several southern theatres, and had the misfortune
to lose a daughter, one of the loveliest creatures as
a girl that we remember, in that dreadful confla-
gration which destroyed the theatre of Richmond,
and filled the town with mourning.
John E. Harwood was, from talents and edu-
cation, one of the brightest ornaments of the Phi-
ladelphia company. A young man at the time of
MR. HARWOOD-MR. DARLEY.
235
forming his engagement with Wignell, he was en-
gaging in manners, and remarkably handsome in
the form and expression of his countenance. He
was inclined to indulgence, and became somewhat
corpulent; but never lost the expression of humour,
and the power of delighting an audience, although
the exertion of that power was checked, and some-
times paralyzed, by indolence. He had been
intended for the law, and probably chose the stage
to avoid labour, although labour only can ensure
success on the stage. Mr. Harwood married Miss
Bache, a granddaughter of our great philosopher
and politician Franklin, a man to whom we owe
more than perhaps to any one man of the revolu-
tion, except Washington. We shall come in
contact with Harwood again in this work, and,
though we never think of him without regret, it is
regret for one whose good qualities we admired
and loved, whose faults we would willingly throw
into the huge mass of nature's frailties, and cover
them with the pall of oblivion.
Alas, poor
Jack!"
•
66
Mr. Darley, the father of the well-known Mr.
John Darley, long before the public as an actor and
singer, and hereafter to be mentioned, was brought
into public notice on the London stage by the un-
common powers and melody of his voice. In the
winter of 1784-5, a farce called The Positive Man
had a run at Covent Garden, its success being
much owing to the pleasure received from a song
by Mrs. Kennedy, in the character of a sailor. The
رکھ
236
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
song was Sweet Poll of Plymouth, not yet forgot-
ten. The next winter the manager brought for-
ward the farce, and attempted to deprive John
Bull of the song; but John was uproarious, and
doubtless delighted with the opportunity of
managing the manager; hisses and groans, and
stick-thumps, with catcalls, evinced his sense of
harmony, and at length came apology to conciliate
the "Gentlemen and Ladies." Apology stated
that Mrs. Kennedy was not in the theatre, but if
Mr. Darley would be accepted, he was ready to at-
tempt the song. Accordingly, Darley came for-
ward, dressed as a sailor, and never was the
simple melody of Sweet Poll given with more effect,
or received with greater pleasure. This is among
the reminiscences of the writer, who enjoyed the
fun and the song.
Mr. Darley was afterwards famous among
English lovers of English opera for his Farmer
Blackberry, which pleased as much at least as
Incledon's Valentine in the same afterpiece of The
Farmer. Mr. Darley was a stout, perhaps we
might say, a fat man, and his appearance was not
suited to any great variety of character. After his
return to his native country, he enjoyed public
favour and esteem in private life, and died re-
spected as the keeper of a porter-house in Oxford
Street, London.
John Darley, the son of the above, came out to
America when a boy with his father, and was oc-
casionally introduced as a singer on the stage of
MR. BLISSETT.
237
Philadelphia, but he left the service of the Muses
for the United States' service as a lieutenant of
marines; in which branch of our naval establish-
ment, had he remained, he would now have been
nearly at the head; but he returned to the stage
in 1800, and married Miss E. Westray, forming a
union of histrionic and musical ability which en-
sured competence, and has produced a numerous
and talented domestic circle, that will make the
evening of their lives as tranquil as the morning
and noon has been pleasant to the eyes and ears of
their fellow-citizens. Mr. and Mrs. Darley will again
be met with in the pages of our theatrical record.
Blissett was unknown to the writer. He was
the best of actors in a small part. He returned to
England in 1821, and has played in Guernsey and
Jersey. As a low comedian, he has been spoken
of as possessing talent and humour of a high grade.
"He was very great in Jerry Sneak and Doctor
Last," says Mr. Wood," and incomparably the best
Frenchman I ever saw; his Doctor Caius, Doctor
Dablancour, and Monsieur le Medecin, were con-
sidered perfect; his Sheepface, in The Village
Lawyer, was excellent. He seldom succeeded in
a very long part. We have heard that, having
inherited property from his father, Mr. Blissett
now resides in ease and retirement on the Conti-
nent of Europe.
Mr. Whitlock was, at the time of coming to
America, past the meridian of life, and in ap-
pearance and manner " every inch" a gentleman.
238
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
He filled the parts of fathers, serious or tragic, and
played some comic characters, but not with equal
success. He had been long on the English pro-
vincial stage, and was a partner in management
with the afterwards famous Munden. Munden's
London celebrity, and Whitlock's emigration to
America, may be traced to Hodgkinson, who had
been received into the company and the family of
Munden, as has been mentioned. Whitlock was
afterwards under Hodgkinson's management in
this country; but returned home with his talented
wife, and passed the evening of his life in quiet
competency, more owing to the energy of her
character than his own.
Mrs. Whitlock was one of the many children of
Roger Kemble, and of course sister to Mrs. Sid-
dons, John Kemble, Stephen Kemble, Charles
Kemble, and all the rest of this celebrated and
fortunate family; fortunate that in so numerous a
circle there should be but one, the before-men-
tioned author of Tammany, who could call up a
blush or a sigh at the mention of name or act:
and that one was not on the stage.
Mrs. Whitlock had been the support and orna-
ment of the company of Whitlock and Munden,
and had played at Bath and in London, before the
engagement which brought her to Philadelphia in
1793. She was what may truly be called a fine-
looking woman, with some of the Siddons and
Kemble physiognomy, but fairer of complexion,
and not so towering in stature. Her eye and
WARRELL-CHALMERS-MARSHALL.
239
voice were powerful, and reminded the spectator
and hearer of her sister, sometimes raising expec-
tations, which were not fully realized, of seeing a
second Siddons. She was of great value in her
profession, and out of it an honour to her family.
She still lives, respected and beloved, enjoying the
fruits of her exertions in that branch of the fine
arts, which owes so much to the family of her
father.
Of Mr. Warrell we know nothing but that he
was a respectable man. Mrs. Warrell was a good
singer, and added strength to this very fine com-
pany in its operatic department. Master Warrell,
the son of the above, was one of the corps de
ballet.
Chalmers was brought out by Wignell, as his
first gentleman comedian, and occasional trage-
dian. He was soon superseded by Moreton in the
first, and immediately by Fennell in the second,
branch of acting. He had talents and powers as
an actor in comedy, but no application; and con-
summate vanity, with utter carelessness of any
thing but self-gratification, ruined him. He sank
into insignificance, returned to England about the
year 1805-6, and died suddenly.
Mr. Marshall was engaged to fill the line of
fops and Frenchmen, and that of first singer. His
previous life is unknown to us, except that he
played at Covent-Garden, and was the very suc-
cessful successor of Wewitzer, in Bagatelle. He
returned to England in 1801. "Some few years
240
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
ago," says Mr. Wood, "I learned that he was
totally blind, and living comfortably on the thea-
trical fund, a noble institution." The same gentle-
man remarks that every attempt to establish such
a fund had failed in this country, as is much to be
regretted. Mr. Marshall made his debut in Ame-
rica at the theatre of Annapolis, where Wignell
carried his splendid troop to employ them, while
Philadelphia was shut against them by pestilence.
The house, then occupied by the company, is now,
and has been for years, a public school. There is
now another theatre in Annapolis.
Mrs. Marshall was a pretty little woman, and a
most charming actress in the Pickles and romps
of the drama. Her Edward, in Every One has
his Fault, is spoken of to this day as perfection.
She was afterwards, when less young, less beauti-
ful, and less admired, Mrs. Wilmot.
Bates was Wignell's principal low comedian,
after himself, without one-twentieth part of Har-
wood's talent, but the latter was then young, and
new to the stage, and "Billy Bates" was an old
stager. He was a broad, short, strong-built man,
with some comedy in his face, but it was all low,
conceited, and cunning. Bates had been, like the
celebrated Rich, both a Harlequin and a manager,
and was found as an underling at Drury Lane by
Wignell. Bernard, in his amusing book, thus
mentions him as an acting manager. "Bates, as
most acting managers are, was the commander of
his company on the stage and in the closet. He
MR. BATES-MISS BROADHURST.
241
played all the best parts, and thus laid claim to
the character of the superior actor." As an actor
he is thus mentioned, when under another manage-
ment very dissimilar to his own.
His manager
was present in a first-rate character at rehearsal,
when Bates entered to deliver a message, which he
did with all the flourish of a hero, who had been
preceded by the sound of a trumpet. "Mr. Bates,"
says the principal, "you surely don't intend to
deliver that message in that manner to-night?"
66
Yes, sir, but I do." "You are too loud, sir."
"Loud, sir! not at all, sir; I'm only energetic. I've
got a benefit to make as well as you, sir." It used
to be said in Philadelphia, that Bates had a stand-
ing, falling, practical joke, more profitable to the
dealers in glass than to those with whom he dined.
He would contrive to place a wine-glass, slily,
near the edge of the table, and then as by acci-
dent brush it off, exclaiming, There, I have
66
turned a wine-glass into a tumbler!"
Miss Broadhurst, a genteel and amiable young
lady, was engaged in this great company as a
second singer in serious opera, Mrs. Oldmixon
being the first, and dividing the comic with Mrs.
Marshall. Miss Broadhurst had science, but not
personal beauty, or skill as an actress, to recom-
mend her. She was attended by her mother in
this visit to the New World, and left Wignell's
company after the first season.
VOL. I.
R
CHAPTER XI.
In-
Boston Law against Stage-plays by the General Court of Massa-
chusetts, 1750 Hallam and Henry petition for leave to open a
Perez Morton's Petition, 1791
theatre, and are refused
structions given by the town of Boston to their Representatives
-Committee appointed, who report against a Theatre - Mr.
and Mrs. Morris and Harper go to Boston A theatre built in
Broad Alley Charles Powell Plays performed as Moral Lec-
Players arrested on the Stage Governor Hancock's
Speech Law against Theatres repealed Federal Street The-
atre built and opened Prologue by Mr. T. Paine
sition Prologue.
tures
Oppo-
MASSACHUSETTS, both as a colony of Great Britain
and as an independent state, had been forbidden
ground to all Thespians. As early as the year
1750, before any of that dangerous class of people
had ventured over the Atlantic, the General Court
of Massachusetts, that is, in the language of other
parts of our country, the House of Assembly or
Representatives, passed an act to prevent stage-
plays and other theatrical entertainments. The
historian of Massachusetts says, that the cause of
"this moral regulation" was, that two young
Englishmen, assisted by some townsmen, tried to
represent Otway's tragedy of The Orphan, and
the inhabitants were so eager to see the entertain-
ment, that some disturbances took place at the
door of the coffee-house where they were amusing
themselves. This so alarmed the lieutenant-go-
LAW AGAINST STAGE-PLAYS.
243
vernor, council, and house of representatives, that,
“For preventing and avoiding the many and great
mischiefs which arise from public stage-plays, &c.
which not only occasion great and unnecessary
expenses, and discourage industry and frugality,
but likewise tend generally to increase immorality,
impiety, and a contempt of religion," they enacted
as follows: "that from and after the publication
of this act, no person or persons whatsoever may,
for his or their gain, or for any price or valuable
consideration, let, or suffer to be used or im-
proved, any house, room, or place whatsoever, for
acting or carrying on any stage-plays, interludes,
or other theatrical entertainments, on pain of for-
feiting and paying for each and every day, or time,
such house, room, or place, shall be let, used, or
improved, contrary to this act, twenty pounds.
And if, at any time or times whatsoever, from and
after the publication of this act, any person or
persons shall be present as an actor in or spec-
tator of any stage-play, &c. in any house, &c.
where a greater number of persons than twenty
shall be assembled together, every such person
shall forfeit for each time five pounds. One-half
to his majesty, and one-half to the informer."
66
Such were the feelings and opinions of the repre-
sentatives of the people of Massachusetts in 1750;
'but," says the author of Dramatic Reminiscences
in the New England Magazine, " as the Puritanic
sentiments of the older inhabitants gave place to
R 2
244
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
more liberal and extended views in religion and
morals, much of the prejudice against theatrical
amusements subsided."
After Wignell had separated from Hallam and
Henry, they, foreseeing that he would occupy the
south, petitioned the legislature of Massachusetts,
on the 5th of June, 1790, " for leave to open a
theatre in Boston, under proper regulations."
The petition was not granted.
In 1791, a petition was presented to the select
men of Boston, drawn up by Perez Morton, Esq.,
and signed by him and thirty-eight other gentle-
men of the town, setting forth "the advantages of
well regulated public amusements in large towns,
and stating that, "being desirous of encouraging
the interests of genius and literature, by encour-
aging such theatrical exhibitions as are calculated
to promote the cause of morality and virtue, and
conduce to polish the manners and habits of so-
ciety," and for other reasons assigned, they re-
spectfully solicit the board of select men to take
the opinion of the inhabitants "on the subject of
admitting a theatre in the town of Boston," and of
instructing their representatives" to obtain a
repeal" of the prohibitory act of 1750, which law
had been revived in 1784, to be in force fifteen
years.
On the 26th of October, this subject was debated
in town-meeting, and a committee appointed to
prepare instructions to the representatives of the
LAW AGAINST STAGE-PLAYS.
245
town in the legislature, and on the 9th of November
following, the committee presented their report to
the adjourned town-meeting, which was accepted.
The instructions state, that the inhabitants of
Boston consider the prohibitory law of 1750 as an
infringement of their privileges; and that a “the-
atre, where the actions of great and virtuous men
are represented, will advance the interests of pri-
vate and political virtue." They, for these and
similar reasons, instruct the representatives to
endeavour to effect the "repeal of the law alluded
to, so far, at least, as respects the town of Boston."
They farther instruct, that "the law of repeal may
be so constructed that no dramatic composition
shall be the subject of theatrical representation,"
till sanctioned "by some authority appointed for
the purpose;" that no "immoral expressions may
ever disgrace the American stage;" but, on the
contrary, all "subserve the great and beneficial
purposes of public and private virtue.'
In January, 1792, Mr. Tudor brought the sub-
ject before the house of representatives, and moved
for a committee to "consider the expediency of
bringing in a bill to repeal the prohibitory law of
1750." After opposition, a committee was ap-
pointed, and "a remonstrance against the repeal"
was referred to the same committee.
The committee reported on the 20th that it was
inexpedient to repeal the law. Notwithstanding
the efforts of Mr. Gardiner and Dr. Jarvis against
this report, it was accepted on the 25th. The
246
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
*
names of Samuel Adams and Benjamin Austin
are enrolled as opponents to a theatre. The latter
wrote "a series of essays," says the author of Re-
miniscences, "to prove that Shakspeare had no
genius." The principal advocates for stage ex-
hibitions were William Tudor and Dr. Charles
Jarvis.
We see from the above instructions, given by
Boston to her representatives, that the opinions of
the people of the capital of Massachusetts had un-
dergone a change. We shall soon see, that, not-
withstanding present opposition to these opinions,
they were triumphant, and the drama established
in the cradle of the liberties of America.
The secession of Wignell from the old American
Company, and his crossing the Atlantic in search
of performers, caused the immediate voyage of
John Henry, also for the same purpose. It has
been stated that Mr. and Mrs. Morris and Stephen
Wools were sharers in the scheme of the old com-
pany. Harper was not. Mr. and Mrs. Morris
took their part with Wignell, and were, during
his absence, to seek employment. Harper was
not engaged with either party. Wools adhered
to the property in which he was a sharer, but was
left for the present unemployed.
Under these circumstances, the above-named
four individuals united for the purpose of trying
their fortunes in Boston, invited by the efforts for
the establishment of a theatre which a portion of
the inhabitants were making. Notwithstanding
FIRST THEATRE AT BOSTON.
247
the refusal of the legislature to repeal the law of
1750, a number of gentlemen formed an associa-
tion for the purpose of introducing the drama. A
committee was formed to carry their purpose into
effect, and ground purchased on which to erect a
building in Broad-alley, near Hawley-street. The
committee were, according to Mr. Buckingham,
Joseph Russell, Esq., who also acted as treasurer
to the association, Dr. Jarvis, Gen. Henry Jack-
son, Joseph Barrell, and Joseph Russell, Jun."
"A theatre in every thing but the name" was
erected. A pit, one row of boxes, and a gallery,
could contain about five hundred persons, and it
was called the "New Exhibition Room."
"The
66
boxes formed three sides of a regular square, the
stage making the fourth. The scenery was toler-
ably well executed." But before its completion,
Charles Powell arrived from England, and adver-
tised an entertainment, which he called "The
Evening Brush for rubbing off the Rust of Care,"
to consist of songs and farcical recitations. This
was on Monday, August 13th, 1792, and on the
16th, the New Exhibition Room was opened by
Harper as manager, with feats on the tight rope
by Mons. Placide, songs by Mr. Wools, feats on
the slack rope and tumbling by Mons. Martine,
hornpipes and minuets by Mons. and Madame
Placide, and the gallery of portraits by Mr. Har-
per, the manager. "These entertainments," says
the New England Magazine, "continued, with
slight variations, for several weeks."
ipt
248
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
Thus we see a theatre was put in operation in
open defiance of the law of the state, and, as the
good people of Boston were denied rational amuse-
ment, they accepted the efforts of the tumbler and
rope-dancer, and eagerly seized on the entertain-
ments of Sadler's Wells, when prohibited by law
from listening to the lines of the wit or the poet,
as recited at Old Drury or Covent Garden.
But this could not last long; the company of
performers increased in numbers: Mr. and Mrs.
Morris, and Harper, were really actors; to these
were added the names of Mr. and Mrs. Solomon,
Messrs. Roberts, Adams, Watts, Jones, Redfield,
Tucker, Murry, Mrs. Gray, Miss Smith, and Miss
Chapman-names only mentioned as being the
first professional actors who performed plays in
Boston. Roberts was deformed, and almost an
idiot; Watts a vulgar fellow, with a wry neck;
Miss Smith became soon after Mrs. Harper :
the rest are only names. Charles Powell joined
Harper.
Plays were now performed; but, as the theatre
was called an exhibition room, Douglas was repre-
sented as a Moral Lecture in five parts, "delivered
by Messrs." so and so; and all the songs of The
Poor Soldier were to be "delivered by Messrs.
Watts, Murry, Redfield, Solomon, Jones, Mrs.
Solomon, and Miss Chapman." The play-bill for
this entertainment, Douglas and The Poor Soldier,
thus disguised, was dated September 26th, 1792.
Wools, who was attached to Hallam and Henry's
ARREST OF THE ACTORS.
249
company, had before this joined his leaders, they
having opened the old theatre in Philadelphia.
Thus were the laws defied, and the people and
their magistrates insulted for several weeks. The
municipal authorities criminally suffered this nui-
sance to exist until "about the end of October or
beginning of November, when," as Mr. Bucking-
ham says, "during the representation of The
School for Scandal, while Morris and his wife were
on the stage in the characters of Sir Peter and
Lady Teazle, the sheriff of the county suddenly
and very unexpectedly made his first appearance
on that stage, and arrested them by virtue of a
peace-warrant." Some of the audience leaped on
the stage from the pit, "tore down the arms of the
state, which decorated a tablet between one of the
stage-boxes and the door, and trampled it under
their feet. Several gentlemen immediately came
forward and became bound for the appearance of
the persons arrested;" and shortly after, an as-
sociation was formed for erecting a permanent
theatre.
66
It does not appear," says Mr. Buckingham,
who writes on the spot, and has every source of
information at command, "that those whose duty
it was to see the laws executed, pursued the offen-
ders with much rigour."
The legislature of Massachusetts at this time
sat at Concord, and Governor Hancock, in his
speech, thus alludes to what he justly considered
+
"
250
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
an open insult upon the laws and government of
the Commonwealth."
66
Whether the apprehensions of the evils which
might flow from theatrical exhibitions, so fully ex-
pressed in the preamble of that act" (the act of
1750, to be continued in force till 1799), " are well
founded or not, may be a proper subject of legis-
lative disquisition, on a motion for the continuance
or the repeal of the law; but the act is now a law
of the commonwealth; the principles on which it
is predicated have been recognised by and derive
support from several legislatures, and surely it
ought to claim the respect and obedience of all
persons who live, or happen to be, within the com-
monwealth. Yet a number of aliens or foreigners
have lately entered the state, and, in the metropolis
of the government, under advertisements insulting
to the habits and education of the citizens, have
been pleased to invite them to, and to exhibit be-
fore such as have attended, stage-plays, interludes,
and theatrical entertainments, under the style and
appellation of moral lectures." He proceeds to
say, "no measures have been taken to punish a
most open breach of the laws, and a most con-
temptuous insult upon the powers of government.”
He then calls upon the legislature to take mea-
sures to rectify the abuse, and punish the offenders.
The legislature in reply concur with the go-
vernor, and promise to endeavour to remedy any
defect that may be found in the statute. The con-
PROCEEDINGS AGAINST MR. HARPER.
251
sequence was, that, in December, a warrant, was
issued for the apprehension of the offenders, and
the sheriff, in obedience to his precept, took the
body of Mr. Harper, and as to the rest returned
non inventus. The justices (Barrett and Greenleaf),
with a view to accommodate the numerous specta-
tors, who waited with anxious expectation the re-
sult of this important inquiry, held their sitting at
Faneuil Hall. Upon Mr. Harper's appearance
before them, the attorney-general read a special
order from the governor and council, directing him
to prosecute and bring to condign punishment
these contemners of the law; and then read his
complaint filed with the aforesaid justices, upon
which they had issued their warrant as above.
Messrs. Tudor and Otis, for the defendant, sug-
gested the illegality of the complaint, it not being
grounded upon an oath, as required by the 14th
article of the declaration of rights. The objection
prevailed, and Mr. Harper was released from his
arrest, amid the loud applauses of a "numerous
and respectable audience.'
On the 5th of December, a few evenings sub-
sequent to the preceding measures, just after the
first act of the play had been performed, the
sheriff executed a second warrant on Mr. Harper,
and put a stop to the performance. The audience,
finding themselves thus disappointed, became riot-
ous, and it was at this time (according to this
statement) that the painting of the state arms was
pulled down and torn to pieces. Judge Tudor
•
252
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
:
addressed the audience, and begged the company
to withdraw, which had its effect, and great order
was observed in retiring from the house.
The existence of a legislative enactment, which
has become obsolete, or is contrary to the sense or
will of the community, is at all times the source of
evil. It is broken with impunity, or, if the offender
is punished, he is considered as a martyr, and
praised and supported, while the laws, the only
safeguard of society, are rendered of less effect in
the eyes of the people, both of those they are
intended to restrain, and those for whose protection
they are enacted.
In 1793, the legislature of Massachusetts re-
pealed the law against theatrical amusements, and
the Federal-street theatre was opened February
4th, 1794, with a prologue written by Thomas
Paine, the son of the Honourable Robert Treat
Paine, one of the signers of the Declaration of Inde-
pendence. The poet petitioned the legislature
afterwards to give him a Christian name, as then
he had none. They granted the prayer, and gave
him the one of his choice, that of his father.
Charles Powell (who, as we have seen, had joined
Harper and others in giving moral lectures on
Jane Shore, Douglas, and The School for Scandal)
spoke the prologue, which, as the beginning of the
Boston regular and lawful theatrical history, we
give. A gold medal had been offered by the pro-
prietors for the best, and the prize adjudged to
this.
PRIZE PROLOGUE.
When first o'er Athens learning's dawning ray
Gleam'd the dim twilight of the Attic day;
To charm, improve, the hours of state repose,
The deathless father of the drama rose,
No gorgeous pageantry adorned the show;
The plot was simple, and the scene was low.
Without the wardrobe of the Graces, dress'd;
Without the mimic blush of art, caress'd;
Heroic virtue held her throne secure,
For vice was modest, and ambition poor.
But soon the Muse, by nobler ardours fir'd,
To loftier heights of scenic verse aspir'd.
From useful life her comic fable rose,
And curbless passions formed the tale of woes;
For daring Drama heav'n itself explored,
And gods descending trod the Grecian board,
Each scene expanding through the temple swelled,
Each bosom acted what each eye beheld:
Warm to the heart, the chymic fiction stole,
And purged by moral alchymy the soul.
Hence artists grac'd and heroes nerved the age,
The sons or pupils of a patriot stage.
Hence in this forum of the virtues fir'd,
Hence in this school of eloquence inspir'd,
With bolder crest the dauntless warrior strode ;
With nobler tongue the ardent statesman glow'd;—
And Athens reigned Minerva of the globe,
First in the helmet fairest in the robe :
In arms she triumphed, as in letters shone,
Of taste the palace, and of war the throne.
But lo! where, rising in majestic flight,
The Roman eagle sails th' expanse of light!
His wings, like heaven's vast canopy, unfurl'd,
Spread their broad plumage o'er the subject world.
Behold! he soars where golden Phoebus rolls,
And perching on his car, o'erlooks the poles.
Far, as revolves the chariot's radiant way,
He wafts his empire o'er the tide of day;
From where it rolls on yon bright sea of suns,
To where in light's remotest ebb it runs.
The globe half ravaged by the storm of war,
The gates of Greece admit the victor's car ;
253
254
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
Chain'd to his wheels is captive science led,
And taste transplanted blooms at Tiber's head.
O'er the rude minds of empire's hardy race
The opening pupil beam'd of letter'd grace :
With charms so sweet, the houseless drama smil'd,
That Rome adopted Athens' orphan child.
Fledg'd by her hand, the Mantuan Swan aspir'd;
Aw'd by her power, e'en Pompey's self retired;
Sheath'd was the sword by which a world had bled;
And Janus blushing to his temple fled:
The globe's proud butcher grew humanely brave;
Earth stanch'd her wounds, and Ocean hush'd his wave.
At length, like huge Enceladus depress'd,
Groaning with slavery's mountain on their breast,
The supine nations struggled from disgrace,
And Rome, like Etna, totter'd from her base.
Thus set the sun of intellectual light,
And, wrapt in clouds, lower'd on the Gothic night.
Dark gloom'd the storm the rushing torrent pour'd,
And wide the deep Cimmerian deluge shower'd;
E'en learning's loftiest hills were cover'd o'er,
And seas of dulness rolled without a shore ;
Yet ere the surge Parnassus' top o'erflow'd,
The banish'd Muses fled their bless'd abode.
Frail was their ark, the heaven-topp'd seas to brave,
The wind their compass and their helm the wave;
No port to cheer them, and no star to guide,
From clime to clime, they rov'd the billowy tide;
At length by storms and tempests wafted o'er,
They found an Ararat on Albion's shore.
Yet long so sterile prov'd the ravag'd age,
That scarcely seem'd to vegetate the stage;
Nature, in dotage, second childhood mourn'd,
And to her infant cradle had return'd.
But hark! her mighty rival sweeps the strings! -
Sweet Avon, flow not! 't is thy Shakspeare sings!
With Blanchard's wing in fancy's heaven he soars ;
With Herschel's eye another world explores ;
Taught by the tones of his melodious song,
The scenic muses tuned their barbarous tongue ;
With subtle powers the crudest soul refined,
And warm'd the Zembla of the frozen mind.
PRIZE PROLOGUE.
The world's new queen, Augusta, own'd their charms,
And clasp'd the Grecian nymphs in British arms.
Then shone the drama with imperial art,
And made a province of the human heart.
What nerve of verse can sketch the ecstatic view,
When she and Garrick sighed their last adieu!
Description but a shadow's shade appears,
When Siddons looks a nation into tears.
But ah! while thus unrivall'd reigns the Muse,
Her soul o'erflows, and grief her face bedews ;
Sworn at the altar, proud oppression's foe,
She weeps indignant for her Britain's wo.
Long has she cast a fondly wishful eye
On the pure climate of this western sky :
And now, while Europe bleeds at every vein,
And pinion'd forests shake the crimson'd main;
While Gallia wall'd by foes collected stands,
And hurls her thunders from a hundred hands :-
Lur'd by a clime, where hostile arms afar
Peace rolls luxurious in her dove-drawn car;
Where freedom first awoke the human mind,
And broke the enchantment which enslaved mankind;
Behold Apollo seeks this liberal plain,
And brings the Thespian goddess in his train.
Oh! happy realm, to whom are richly given
The noblest bounties of indulgent heaven;
For whom has earth her wealthiest mine bestow'd,
And commerce bridg'd old ocean's broadest flood!
To you, a stranger guest, the drama flies;
An angel wanderer in a pilgrim's guise!
To charm the fancy, and to feast the heart,
She spreads the banquet of the scenic art,
By you supported, shall her infant stage
Portray, adorn, and regulate, the age.
When faction rages with intemperate sway,
And grey-hair'd vices shame the face of day,
Drawn from their covert to th' indignant pit,
Be such the game to stock the park of wit ;
That park, where genius all his shafts may draw,
Nor dread the terrors of a forest law.
But, not to scenes of pravity confined,
Here polish'd life an ample field shall find
255
256
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
1
Reflected here, its fair perspective view,
The stage, the camera
the landscape, you.
Ye lovely fair whose circling beauties shine
A radiant galaxy of charms divine;
Whose gentle hearts those tender scenes approve,
Where pity begs, or kneels adoring love : —
Ye sons of sentiment, whose bosom fire
The song of pathos and the epic lyre;
Whose glowing souls with tragic grandeur rise,
When bleeds a hero or a nation dies :-
And ye, who thron'd on high a synod sit,
And rule the lofty atmosphere of wit;
From whom a flash of comic lightning draws
A bursting thunder-clap of loud applause :
If here those eyes, whose tears, with peerless sway,
Have wept the vices of an age away;
If here those lips, whose smiles, with magic art,
Have laughed the foibles from the cheated heart ;
On mirth's gay cheek can one gay dimple light;
In sorrow's breast one passion'd sigh excite :
With nobler streams the buskin's grief shall fall;
With pangs sublimer throb this breathing wall;
Thalia too, more blythe, shall trip the stage,
Of care the wrinkles smooth, and thaw the veins of age.
And now, thou dome, by Freedom's patrons rear'd,
With beauty blazon'd and by taste rever'd;
Apollo consecrates thy walls profane -
Hence be thou sacred to the Muses' reign!
In thee, three ages shall in one conspire;
A SOPHOCLES shall swell his chastened lyre;
A TERENCE rise, in native charms serene ;
A SHERIDAN display the perfect scene:
And Athens, Roine, Augusta, blush to see
Their virtues, beauty, grace, all shine-combin'd in THEE.
Like
Mr. Paine was then a very young man.
many others, his connexion with a theatre was a
source of evil to himself, of regret to his friends.
Mr. Charles Powell, the speaker of this prize pro-
logue (for which we are indebted to Carpenter's
-
}
OPPOSITION PROLOGUE.
257
Mirror of Taste, 1810), went to England while the
theatre was being built, and the company he
brought out now opened with Gustavus Vasa and
Modern Antiques; Mr. and Mrs. Powell, Mr., Mrs.,
and Miss, Baker, Mr. and Mrs. Collins, Mr. and
Mrs. Jones, Messrs. Bartlett, Kenny, Nelson, and
S. Powell, (brother to Charles, and afterwards
manager), Mrs. Abbot, and Miss Harrison, who
will be noticed by us, with the respect due to her
talents and virtues, as Mrs. S. Powell.
Mr. Buckingham says, that "none of the re-
jected addresses were ever published," but gives
us a prologue by an adversary to the theatre, which
we think superior in some respects to Mr. Paine's
prize poem. The salutary "if," the great poet's
great peace-maker, renders these lines as accept-
able to the friend of the Drama as to the enemy;
and appropriate to the opening of any play-house
whatever. The line in italics is a fair and palpa-
ble hit given to Mr. Paine and the directors.
PROLOGUE.
Apollo consecrates thy walls profane.”
YE sons of liberty, with awe profound,
Survey these walls and tread this classic ground;
And you, ye fair, whose footsteps here incline,
To pay your vespers at Apollo's shrine,
At this, his porch, in solemn stillness, hear
The friendly voice, which asks a list'ning ear.
If here the drama rapturous scenes disclose,
And all the heart with liveliest passion glows;
If in this dome, gay pleasure's luring smile
Enchant the soul, and midnight hours beguile;
VOL. I.
S
258
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
If here, entranced, ye nobler views forego,
And cares domestic yield to fancied wo;
If, at your home, the babe or prattling boy
Ye heedless left for visionary joy;
If, borne from far, the wit of Albion's race,
As dissolute as gay, these walls disgrace;
If foreign brogues and foreign manners strive
Your speech to dictate and the ton to give;
If alien vices, here unknown before,
Come, shameless, to pollute Columbia's shore ;
If, here profan'd, Religion's sacred name
Be dress'd in ridicule and mark'd with shame;
If yon bright temples, which the good revere,
And rites most sacred, meet the pointing sneer;
If dipp'd in gall, the unhallow'd comic rod
Touch, unprovoked, the ministers of God;
If here, regardless of the Power on high,
The impious buskin dare his wrath defy;
Indignant rise! and fly these curs'd abodes,
To vice devoted and to heathen gods;
And save, while yet ye may, your spotless name,
Your own chaste virtue, and your country's fame.
But if this voice be doom'd in vain to call,
If deaf to counsel, ye approach this hall;
If here, triumphant, vice her standard rear,
And ye, as votaries to her throne, repair;
If from this dome the dire contagion spread,
And blushing virtue hide her drooping head;
O, may the lightning rend these walls profane,
And desolation o'er the ruins reign!
A master of ceremonies was appointed by the
trustees of the theatre, whose business it was to see
that those who had taken seats should be accom-
modated according to contract to direct the
manner of taking up and putting down those who
came to the door in coaches-and other matters of
equal importance, besides suppressing “all kinds
of disorder and indecorum." The trustees reserved
FEDERAL STREET THEATRE CLOSES.
259
to themselves the power of dismissing any per-
former from the stage or orchestra for misconduct
-a power to be exercised in the form of a request
to the manager.
The season ended with the fourth of July, before
which time, Mr. Buckingham says, "Powell and
Baker quarrelled; from what cause is not very
material to be known. The dispute was brought
before the public in the newspapers, and ended in
the secession of Baker, his wife, and daughter,
from the company." We hope the Bakers made
bread elsewhere, but we hear no more of them.
•
re
2
CHAPTER XII.
Hallam and Hodgkinson open the New-York Theatre, December
Mr.
1794. Mr. Benjamin Carr Mr. and Mrs. Marriott
Munto - Mr. Nelson Mrs. Solomons Mons. and Madame
Gardie― Mrs. Faugeres' Belisarius Fontainville Abbey - Mr.
First plan of the Park Theatre
Fawcet
drawn from the Stage
Friendly Club.
Hartford
Mrs. Hallam with-
Providence Theatre - The
THE old American company, under Hallam and
Hodgkinson, visited Philadelphia in the summer
of 1794, and opened the old theatre in Southwark,
but with little success, as might have been antici-
pated. The citizens had been satiated with dra-
matic novelties and excellencies. Such as were
friends of the Drama gave their countenance to
the splendid establishment of Wignell and Rein-
agle, and frowned on those who took advantage of
the closing of the new house for the summer, to
intrude upon the territory now devoted to the men
who had so eminently gratified taste by the intro-
duction of a company that might defy all oppo-
sition.
Hallam and Hodgkinson opened the theatre in
John Street, New-York, on the 15th of December,
1794. The opening pieces were Love in a Village,
and The Liar.
In the opera, Mr. Benjamin Carr, well known
afterwards, and much esteemed in Philadelphia as
JOHN STREET THEATRE, NEW-YORK.
261
a teacher of music, made his first appearance in
Young Meadows. His deportment was correct,
but timid, and he never acquired or deserved
reputation as an actor. His voice was mellow,
and knowledge of music without the graces of
action made him more acceptable to the scientific
than to the vulgar auditor. We shall have occa-
sion to mention him again, although he did not
continue long on the stage. An overture, com-
posed by him, was performed and much approved:
the orchestra had been enlarged, and the best
band collected that ever had been heard in the
New-York Theatre.
Mr. Munto was brought forward in Eustace,
but was merely tolerable. An actress of the name
of Solomons appeared for the first time, but soon
disappeared.
In the afterpiece, to any one who had not seen
John Palmer's admirable Young Wilding, Hodg-
kinson would appear unrivalled.
Miss Chaucer was another debutante on this
evening; but the strength of the company was in
the performers heretofore mentioned. Foote's ad-
mirable comedy of The Liar is an alteration from
Sir Richard Steele's Lying Lover. Still The Liar
is Foote's.
Before the opening, a series of numbers on the
theatre were commenced in the New-York Maga-
zine for November 1794, called the Theatrical
Register, which thus speaks: "The next month
is the time fixed for commencing the first campaign
262
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
under the new managers," Hallam and Hodgkinson.
After announcing the projected new house, and the
intended abandonment of the John-Street theatre,
the writer proceeds. "Under these circumstances,
we have thought proper to begin this monthly
publication, with a view to watch over the con-
duct of the managers and the company. A well
regulated stage tends to suppress those paltry ex-.
hibitions with which every city is infested which has
not a regular theatre, or during those seasons that
the theatre is closed. The very refuse of society
associate to exercise a profession which requires
the utmost powers of humanity. Their audiences
are composed of people like themselves."
The author of The Father of an Only Child had
now written a second tragedy, taking his plot from
Mrs. Radcliff's Romance of the Forest. He called
it Fontainville Abbey. It was read to the author's
associates, and communicated to Dr. Dwight. It
was approved of by them, and accepted by the
managers. The author's friend, Dr. E. H. Smith,
finished at this time a drama called Edwin and
Angelina, which was likewise accepted for per-
formance.
The theatre at Newport was at this time under
the direction of Harper. He had now a second
wife, who was the heroine of his company. He was
of course the hero, and appeared indeed a hero
among those who formed his troop. Huggins,
afterwards so noted in New-York, was one of the
actors.
MONS. AND MAD. GARDIE.
263
Three days after the opening, a Mr. Marriot
was announced as from the Edinburgh boards.
He was received quietly by the audience, and con-
demned by the critics of the newspapers. His wife,
Mrs. Marriot, a pretty young woman, was likewise
added to the company, but made no addition to its
strength. The same must be repeated respecting
Mr. Nelson, who appeared in the character of
Lubin, in The Quaker.
In the orchestra was a genteel man of the name
of Gardie; he was from St. Domingo, and brought
with him his wife, a beautiful woman, who now
made her appearance as the heroine of a pantomime
called Sophia of Brabant. This was the first in-
troduction of serious pantomime on our stage. The
music was composed by M. Pelesier. The im-
pression made by Madame Gardie was extremely
great, and after a little time a second serious pan-
tomime was got up, in which she was the principal
attraction, called La Foret Noire. She is thus no-
ticed in the Theatrical Register: "Her face, figure,
and action, were enchanting. The appearance and
manners of this lady are prepossessing, beyond
any example on our stage."
Gardie, like most of the gentlemen composing
the band, had seen better days. He appeared a
melancholy man. The lady had all the fascinating
vivacity of her nation. The termination of her
triumphs over the people of America was a tragedy
of real life, performed in the well-known house
where a sublime drama of a very different charac
264
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
ter had been enacted; where Washington took
leave of his companions in arms when he retired to
his beloved Mount Vernon. The house is still in
being at the corner of Pearl and Broad Streets.
The story of the unfortunate Gardie and his fas-
cinating wife will occupy another page.
In February, 1795, Mrs. Faugeres showed to
several literary persons a tragedy called Belisarius.
It was not played. Although it possessed merit,
the lady had not that knowledge of the stage which
is necessary to produce an acting play. It was
afterwards published.
On the 17th of February, 1795, the second tra-
gedy by the author of The Father of an Only Child
was played and applauded. Fontainville Abbey
was thus cast:
Mr. Hodgkinson.
King.
:
Richards (alias Crosby).
La Motte,
Marquis,
Peter,
Madame La Motte,
Adeline,
Mrs. Melmoth.
Hodgkinson.
The new tragedy was not announced as the pro-
duction of an American, and we find in a publica-
tion of the day the following remark. "Can it be
possible that the author thinks that such an avow-
al would operate against it?" There can be no doubt
that he did think so, and no doubt that such an
avowal at that time would have been enough to
condemn the piece. The writers of the day, how-
ever, whether from mistaking its origin or not, did
praise it in good set terms. This tragedy, after a
SCHEME FOR A NEW THEATRE.
265
few repetitions, was suffered to sleep with its pre-
decessor. It was published by Longworth some
years afterwards, and is forgotten.
Among the inefficient performers brought out or
added to the American Company, we are sorry to
add the name of Hallam. Mr. Hallam brought
forward his son, Mirvan Hallam, and he made his
appearance, under his father's influence and in-
struction, as Belcour, in The West Indian. But he
was anything rather than the elegant Belcour. He
had neither talents nor education, and sunk into
that insignificance which mediocrity in the fine
arts must experience; nay, worse: discouraged by
disappointed hopes, and without mental resources,
that fate awaited him which sweeps into oblivion
or worse so many who attempt this dangerous
and alluring profession, and so many who have
brighter prospects in other professions.
It was not to be expected that the inhabitants of
New-York would be content with a paltry wooden
theatre in John Street, when their neighbours and
rivals, who outdid them at all times in fish and
butter, had a new brick splendid building in Chest-
nut Street, the centre of Philadelphia fashion.
Accordingly, a scheme for a new theatre, to sur-
pass all new theatres, had now been some time in
agitation. Eighty subscribers at 375 dollars each
were obtained, making the sum of 30,000 dollars.
This was to be sufficient. The number of sub-
scribers was increased to 100; and more it was
soon found were wanted. It was reported that
266
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
Hodgkinson was to go to England for performers,
and leave his partner to manage in America ; but
the partners were by this time, to use the common
phrase, “at swords' points;" neither was the one
fitted for the mission abroad, nor the other to
manage at home.
Mr. Fawcett made his appearance in Mahomet,
and added to the number, rather than to the
strength, of the company.
About this time Mrs. Melmoth, whose bulk had
almost rendered her talents in tragedy unavailing,
the towering Mrs. Melmoth, made herself ridicu-
lous as the romping Roxalana, in the farce of The
Sultan. So we remember Mrs. Abingdon playing
Scrub, and Mrs. Webb, Falstaff.
A Mrs. Spencer appeared in Juliet, on the even-
ing of the 2d of March, but made no impression,
and deserved no support in so high a flight.
Mrs. Hallam, who had been mentioned as Miss
Tuke, and who became the wife of the manager
after the death of his first wife, long separated from
him, had become a pleasing actress, and filled
many of the first parts in comedy. About this time
she was withdrawn from the stage, in consequence
of an unfavourable impression made upon the au-
dience by her appearance in the principal lady's
character in Cumberland's comedy of The Jew.
Mr. Hallam attributed the very strange exhibition
to opium. The audience were shocked and dis-
gusted. The actress was withdrawn from the
public eye. Discontent ensued. Hodgkinson was
RICKETT'S CIRCUS.
267
charged in an anonymous letter with being the
enemy of Mrs. Hallam, and the cause of her being
withdrawn, and he attributed the charge to Hallam.
Discord and ill-will raged, and partisans were en-
listed on both sides. A meeting was brought
about by the writer, and a seeming reconciliation
effected. Hodgkinson offered to sell out to a third
party for 5,000 pounds, or 12,500 dollars.
Wignell, whose territory had been invaded by
Hallam and Henry, and by Hallam and Hodg-
kinson, contemplated an invasion in return, and
about this time commenced preparations for car-
rying the war into the enemy's country. A circus
had been built in Greenwich Street, and occupied
by a company of equestrians under a man of the
name of Ricketts, and Wignell made proposals to
him for his circus as a summer theatre, confident
that not only novelty, but strength, ensured suc-
cess.
Ricketts declined the offer, and was charged
in the Daily Advertiser of March 14th, 1795, with
having refused "through fear of displeasing a small
part of the public, or rather some gentleman of the
profession," and by that refusal having prevented
the citizens of New-York seeing "some of the best
actors on the continent." Four days afterwards,
the charge was answered from behind the curtain,
saying, the refusal was in consequence of the citi-
zens being opposed to a second theatre, and deny-
ing that the best actors, "or near the best, are in
Philadelphia;” thus denying what had not been
asserted. The writer goes on to praise the New-
268
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
York managers, and to show that the citizens were
bound to support Mr. Hodgkinson, who had be-
come a resident in New-York, "in preference to
any part of the continent." To keep the good
will of Ricketts, the managers put off a play on the
24th March, rather than interfere with the per-
formances of the circus. Sheridan and The School
for Scandal gave way to Ricketts and clown.
Boston had before this established a theatre
within her precincts, and now Hartford imitated
most uuwisely her example. Hartford was a mere
village at that time. What may be a good in a
large and populous city, may be an evil if not under
the supervision of the government and other strict
regulations, where the population is sparse.
But
a theatre had been recently erected in Hartford,
and Hodgkinson, with part of the old American
Company, opened it in August, 1795.
Providence, Rhode Island, had likewise her play-
house, and the remainder of the company were led
by Hallam to that rising and flourishing town.
The two divisions united and proceeded to
Boston, where they continued until the end of
January, 1796. But before we follow them thither,
we must bring up the history of the Boston stage
to this time.
From July 4th, 1794, till December 15th, the
theatre of Boston was closed. On the last named
day theatrical representations recommenced with
As You like It and Rosina.
The company consisted of Mr. and Mrs. C.
TAYLOR-HIPWORTH-JONES.
269
Powell, Mr. and Mrs. S. Powell, Mr. and Mrs.
Jones, Mr. and Mrs. Collins, Mr. and Mrs. Hughes,
Messrs. Bartlett, Taylor, Kenny, Heely, Hipworth,
Villiers, Mrs. Heelyer (afterwards Mrs. Graupner)
and Miss Harrison (afterwards Mrs. Dickinson).
Mr. Taylor gained great celebrity in Boston by
his personation of Octavian; but it must be re-
membered that no other Octavian had been seen.
We remember Mr. Taylor's Octavian.
It was
in our estimation at the time a failure. It was
remarkable for what would be unnoticed in 1832,
a growth of beard cherished for the purpose.
Mr. Hipworth was at the time thought highly of
in the part of Sheva, then first played in Boston,
and in Vapid. Hodgkinson had not yet been seen.
But Mr. Hipworth is praised for something beyond
good playing; "he was respected," says Mr.
Buckingham, "for his good conduct, both before
the public and in his private life." That he should
have personated with success the varied characters
of Sheva, Vapid, Cato, Shylock, Rover, Beverley,
Petruchio, Jaffier, and Jaques, proves more than
ordinary talent. This gentleman died in Charles-
ton, South Carolina, in 1795.
Mr. Jones was the favourite low comedian of the
place at that time, and a rebellious subject of King
Powell's. It appears from a circumstance related
by Mr. Buckingham, that the monarch could
not decide the differences which arose among
his subjects, in respect to parts, and that Mr.
Jones could. Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Hughes both
270
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
laid claim to the part of Cowslip, in The Agreeable
Surprise. One evening when it was performed,
they both prepared for the character, both came on
the stage at the same instant, and each presented
her bowl of cream to Lingo. Jones, who was play-
ing the part of the pedagogue, received the offering
from his wife, and the rival Cowslip was obliged
to retire from the contest." He died in Charleston,
S. Carolina, in 1797.
As the name of Jones might mislead, we will re-
mark that the comedians, Mr. and Mrs. Jones,
were not the same we have elsewhere mentioned.
The Mrs. Jones, mother of Mrs. Simpson, who
was the favourite of New-York in the winter of
1805-6, could have had no rival as Cowslip. Her
husband died at Charleston in the year 1806.
A play was performed in Boston, written by a
citizen of the United States, called The Medium, or
Happy Tea-party. It was not played a second time,
and was not printed. It was attributed for a time
to a clergyman, but denied by him as his offspring.
Mr. C. Powell became bankrupt; and at the end
of the season, Colonel John S. Tyler was appointed
manager by the proprietors. Colonel Tyler made
an arrangement with Messrs. Hallam and Hodg-
kinson to bring on the New-York company to Bos-
ton; and, having engaged a part of the former
Boston company, the whole formed a very effec-
tive and numerous corps; made more so by the
addition of Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, Mr. and Mrs.
Tyler, Mr. Jefferson, Mrs. Brett, and Miss Ara-
NEW THEATRE AT BOSTON.
271
bella Brett, all of whom arrived from England and
joined the New-York Company.
Mr. Buckingham mentions it as worthy of record
that the tragedies of Macbeth and Othello were
played for the first time this season, Hodgkinson
playing the hero of each piece.
The company of Hallam and Hodgkinson closed
their performances in Boston on the 20th of Ja-
nuary, 1796, and opened in New-York on the 10th
of February following.
In the course of the spring of 1796, the project
of building a new play-house in Boston was started,
a subscription opened, and almost immediately
filled up. Such was the prevailing taste for the-
atrical performances, that men of capital were
willing to invest their property to almost any
amount in the erection of theatres; and mechanics
did not hesitate to take shares in payment for their
labour. Contracts were made, the building went
on rapidly, and, before the first of January, 1797,
the Haymarket theatre, an immense wooden pile,
proudly overtopping every other building in the
metropolis, was completed. It is believed that the
idea of raising a rival house was first suggested
by C. Powell, or some of his friends, who thought
him injured by the proprietors of the Federal
Street theatre; but there was another and more
potent principle exerted in producing the establish-
ment than mere theatrical rivalry, and that was
political feeling. Political excitement between the
parties then denominated Federal and Jacobin
272
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
was high and furious. Every man joined himself
to one or the other of those parties, and each was
jealous of the ascendancy of the other.
It was
suspected, and not without some reason, that
party politics, which pervaded almost every pri-
vate as well as public concern, had some influence
in the management of the Federal Street house;
and that the trustees, who were all of the Federal
school of politics, had upheld and justified the
manager in the introduction of pieces tending to
provoke the resentments and animosities of their
political opponents. It was customary (and very
naturally so), for the actors, who were all emigrants
from the English stage, to interpolate jests and
witticisms at the expense of the French, who were
then at war with England; and these often gave
great offence, excited disapprobation, and some-
times created great uproar in the house. The
anti-Federal (or as it was then called, the Jacobin)
party were so exceedingly sensitive, that they
took great offence at the representation of The
Poor Soldier, pretending that the character of
Bagatelle was a libel on the character of the
whole French nation. They were encouraged in
this by the French consul, then residing at Bos-
ton. A pretty smart quarrel was excited between
him and the editor of the Boston Gazette; and the
controversy at last became so bitter, that a mob
on one occasion attempted to stop the performance
of this farce, and did considerable damage to the
benches, doors, and windows, of the offending house.
HAYMARKET THEATRE, NEW-YORK. 273
After a short recess, which commenced about
the last of May, Williamson again drew up the
curtain of the Federal Street stage. He retained
many of the principal performers of the preceding
season, and enriched the company by adding the
talents of Chalmers, Bates, and Mrs. Whitlock.
Chalmers was introduced on the first night of the
season, as Vapid in The Dramatist. Mrs. Whit-
lock came out as Isabella, in Southern's Fatal
Marriage, and repeated the part several times
within a short period. Bates was reserved till the
season was near two months advanced, and then
brought forward as Justice Woodcock, in Bicker-
staff's delightful opera Love in a Village, and
Sharp in The Lying Valet. Jones, who had returned
from Charleston, to pass the summer in New-Eng-
land, joined the company at the commencement of
the season, and played for several weeks with a
popularity equal to that which attended his first
performances. Mr. and Mrs. Rowson, Mr. and
Mrs. Hogg, and their daughter, Mr. and Mrs.
Solomon, with two daughters, and Mr. Downie,
were in the Federal Street company of this season.
In the month of December, the Haymarket theatre
was completed. It was an immense building, con-
structed entirely of wood. It had three tiers of
boxes and a gallery. The lobbies and staircases
were spacious and convenient. On each side of
the stage was a suite of dressing-rooms, constructed
in wings, projecting from the second story to the
main edifice, and nearly on a level with the stage.
VOL. I.
T
274
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
The entrance to the pit was up a flight of steps.
This theatre was first opened on Monday, the 26th
day of December. C. Powell had made a voyage
to England during the preceding snmmer, to com-
plete his company by the enlistment of recruits,
and returned with Mr. and Mrs. Barrett, Mr. and
Mrs. Simpson, three Misses Westray (daughters
of Mrs. Simpson by a former marriage), and a
corps of ballet-dancers and mimes. Among these
were the celebrated French performers, Fran-
cisquy, Val, Legé, and their wives. The company
was numerous, and embraced a great variety and
excellence of talent. The opening play was The
Belle's Stratagem, which was thus cast: Doricourt,
S. Powell; Sir George Touchwood, Marriot (first
appearance); Flutter, C. Powell; Saville, Dickson
(first appearance on any stage); Courtall, Taylor;
Villars, a young American; Hardy, Simpson (first
appearance): Letitia Hardy, Mrs. S. Powell:
Lady Frances, Miss Hughes; Miss Ogle, Miss
Harrison (afterwards Mrs. Dickson); Mrs. Rackett,
Mrs. Simpson (first appearance). The comedy
was succeeded by a ballet, pantomime, &c. in
which the whole corps displayed their powers to
the utmost extent.
On the Wednesday following, Barrett made his
first bow to the American audience in the charac-
ter of Ranger. Mrs. Barrett's first appearance
was in Mrs. Beverley, in Moore's popular tragedy
of The Gamester.
The acting management of the Federal Street
MR. WILLIAMSON.
275
stage devolved on J. B. Williamson, whom we have
mentioned elsewhere as the tragedian of the sum-
mer theatre in the Haymarket, London, where
tragedies were very rare, and Mrs. Wells the
heroine. We remember hearing Williamson, with
all the swelling port of My Lord Duke, tell Hodg-
kinson that Tyler, the Yankee manager, had run
away, and then, thank heaven! that he was not a
regular bred manager.
Williamson's wife, the Miss Fontenelle of the
English stage, was a very fine actress in Little
Pickle and romps.
She was the original Moggy
She was power-
ful, but her playfulness lacked delicacy.
M'Gilpin of the Highland Reel.
From Mr. Buckingham we learn that “Mrs.
Arnold, from Covent Garden, made her debut in
Rosetta, in Love in a Village." She is mentioned
with praise, and is supposed to have died many
years afterwards in Virginia.
We make use of the accurate information of
Mr. Buckingham for the origin of the Boston Hay-
market, and the opening of the Federal Street
theatre under J. B. Williamson.
In December, Mr. William Charles White, who
will be better known to the reader by our account
of his attempts and failure in New York, made
his first appearance with great applause as a boy
on the Boston stage.
While the house, first called the new theatre,
and since the Park theatre, in New York, was
building, the following queries were suggested by
T 2
276
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
one who had afterwards the direction of it, ac-
companied by care and misery, but at this time
happy in competence, ardent wishes for the happi-
ness of his fellow-creatures, delightful society of
enlightened friends, and daily pursuit of know-
ledge. "Is not the present situation of the drama
in New-York, while the power of regulating it
seems to be in the subscribers to a new building,
a good opportunity for effecting a reform? It is
very much wanted. May I not address a letter
to the subscribers through the medium of the press,
and show the power which a theatrical establish-
ment possesses of being eminently useful? May
not errors be pointed out in former and existing
establishments? The use which governments
have made of the stage shows the absurdity of
allowing the erroneous opinions of Europe to be
propagated in the most alluring form, in opposi-
tion to those which our superior form of govern-
ment is calculated to generate. May I not offer a
plan for a more perfect mode of conducting theatres
in this country? Cannot the stage be made a vehi-
cle for the furtherance of useful knowledge, second
to none but the press ?" Such were the thoughts
and wishes of one who on trial found circum-
stances too strong for his desires of reform, and
who, after a struggle of years (with ruined health
and fortunes), gave up the contest, without giving
up the wish or the hope.
*
Charles Brockden Brown had been destined for
the bar, and received early education accordingly,
THE FRIENDLY CLUB.
277
but disappointed his friends by positively refusing
to enter into the profession of the law. He be-
came intimate with Elihu Hubbard Smith, while
the latter studied under the physicians of Phila-
delphia, and Smith having determined to practise
in New-York, Brown visited that city and joined
those who have been denominated pioneers, be-
coming a member of the Friendly Club. Already
he had commenced novel writing, and the young
physician, the future novelist, and the dramatist,
soon became inseparable. A young lawyer, Wil-
liam Johnson, well known since as a reporter, being
likewise a member of the club, commenced his ca-
reer about the same time with Elihu H. Smith,
and they established themselves in the house of
Alderman Waddell, in Pine Street, near Nassau
Street.
The
This is the same Alderman Waddell,
who became a subject for the theatrical historian
by selling play-tickets in conjunction with David
Matthews, mayor of New-York, in the year 1777.
At that time the alderman was a member of a club
of wits, very dissimilar to the Friendly Club both
in habits and politics; but they were certainly
wits, although as certainly bon-vivants.
names of William Franklin, the son of Benjamin,
and of James Rivington, the printer of the Royal
Gazette, are enough to justify the character here
given of that club of 1777. Waddell lived now in
the same house with Johnson and Smith, occupy-
ing upper apartments, and perhaps his tenants
did not see him once a month, so regular were
278
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
-
all parties, and so different their habits of re-
gularity.
The apartments of Johnson and Smith were the
resort of the members of their club, and the novel-
ist was divided between them and the dramatist;
sleeping at Bachelor's Hall, and otherwise domes-
ticated in the family of the author of The Father;
until a long and severe illness rendered it neces-
sary to remove him altogether to the house of the
latter. While thus situated, and surrounded by
such friends, we shall see that the dramatist was
induced to become a manager of the New-York
theatre.
CHAPTER XIII.
1796-Mr. and Mrs. Johnson-Mr. and Mrs. Tyler-Mr. Jefferson—
Mrs. and Miss Brett-Mr. and Mrs. Cleaveland-Mons. and Ma-
dame Val-M. Francisquy-M. Dubois-Opera of The Archers—
Mr. Hogg-A third Manager added to the partnership of Messrs.
Hallam and Hodgkinson, whose violent quarrels had threatened
destruction to the Company-Endeavours to mediate— William-
son of the Haymarket, London-Revived Quarrels-Mrs. Hallam
withdrawn, and a new Agreement among the Directors-Com-
pany at Hartford-John D. Miller--Old American Company open
in New-York, 1796-Mysterious Monk-Arrival of Wignell with
Mrs. Merry, Mr. Cooper, &c.-Godwin-Holcroft-Edwin and
Angelina-Bourville Castle-John Blair Linn-Doctor Elihu Hub-
bard Smith-Tell Truth and Shame the Devil-The Comet-Mr.
Miller-Vexations of Theatrical Management-Dialogue with a
would-be Actor-Wignell opens the Philadelphia theatre, Decem-
ber 5, 1790-Mrs. Merry-Mr. Cooper.
FEBRUARY 10th, 1796, was a remarkable era in the
history of the theatre of New-York. We have
seen that Hallam and Hodgkinson had success-
fully quartered their troop upon the good people
of Boston, to the mutual satisfaction of the
strangers and citizens. They now opened the
house in John Street, New-York, with the good
old comedy of The Provoked Husband, and by a
very judicious cast of the play showed an acces-
sion of strength, as well as numbers, which war-
ranted the success they met with this season. Mr.
and Mrs. Johnson, Mr. and Mrs. Tyler, Mr. Jeffer-
son, and Mrs. Brett, all made their debut at the
280
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
same time:- Mr. Johnson and Mrs. Brett in Sir
Francis and Lady Wronghead; Mr. and Mrs.
Tyler as Manley and Lady Grace; Mr. Jefferson
as Squire Richard, and Mrs. Johnson as Lady
Townley. We will speak of these in succession,
according to our estimate of their value as play-
ers.
Mrs. Johnson was a tall, elegant, beautiful young
woman, whose taste in dress made her a model for
the belles of the city, and whose manners were as
fascinating off as on the stage. Her irreproach-
able character and demeanour rendered her play-
fulness harmless to herself or others; for the most
licentious would see at a glance that he must not
approach, in that character, within the circle of
her influence. She was almost too tall, yet the
spectator did not wish her shorter, and if any
movement appeared like an approach to awkward-
ness, it was only to be attributed to modesty.
She had not the self-possession of Miss Farren or
Mrs. Merry, though more like the first than the
last. She was more beautiful, but not so good an
actress as either, and at the time we now speak of,
America had not seen so perfect a fine lady in
comedy. This lady made her first appearance in
Mr. Brunton's company, and Mrs. Merry has told
the writer that she could not recognise in the ele-
gant Mrs. Johnson the tall, awkward girl of that
period. She had prudently accepted the hand of
Mr. Johnson, much her senior, but one who could
protect and instruct her. She lived respected and
MR. JEFFERSON.
281
esteemed, and, after several visits to her native
land, she died in America, in the arms of a beloved
and most worthy daughter.
As an actor, Mr. Jefferson stands next. Per-
haps, as an actor, he ought to have been placed
first, but "place aux dames" where any doubt
exists. He was then a youth, but even then an
artist. Of a small and light figure, well formed,
with a singular physiognomy, a nose perfectly
Grecian, and blue eyes full of laughter, he had the
faculty of exciting mirth to as great a degree by
power of feature, although handsome, as any ugly-
featured low comedian ever seen. The Squire
Richard of Mr. Jefferson made a strong impression
on the writer; his Sadi, in The Mountaineers, a
stronger; and, strange to say, his Verges, in
Much Ado about Nothing, a yet stronger.
Joseph Jefferson was invited to this country by
Mr. C. Powell, for Boston (he paying the passage
money and agreeing to give seventeen dollars per
week salary), and arrived in 1795. Powell having
failed, Jefferson engaged with Hallam and Hodg-
kinson. He was the son of Mr. Jefferson, a con-
temporary and friend of Garrick. Mr. J. Jeffer-
son had been under Bernard's management in
England. We shall often have occasion to men-
tion this excellent comedian, who lived among us,
admired as an actor, and esteemed as a man, for
six-and-thirty years, paying the debt of nature
while this work is passing through the press in
1832.
282
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
Joseph Tyler was, at the time of his debut in
New-York, a manly figure, had had good pro-
vincial practice as an actor and singer, and was a
most valuable acquisition to the American stage.
In time, he became the representative of what, on
the French theatre, is called the père noble, and
long continued a favourite on the stage and an es-
timable man in private life. That his appearance
and manner on the stage and elsewhere should
have been so highly respectable is the more to be
remarked, and is the more creditable to him, as he
was originally a practitioner of a trade certainly
not high in the scale among ordinary occupations.
Mr. Tyler was in early life a barber, and conse-
quently an uneducated man. It is the more to his
honour that he could represent the père noble on
the stage, and play the part of the "noblest work
of God," an honest man, in society. He does not
stand alone among histrionics in the circumstance
of having sprung from the barber's-shop to the
stage. Mr. Thomas King, long at the head of his
profession as a comic actor in London, was like-
wise a knight of the pole. Bernard says, King
was extremely "sensitive of any allusions to his
early occupation," and tells, on the authority of
Mrs. Clive, the celebrated actress, who had retired
in honourable competency from the stage, the fol-
lowing anecdote:
"In playing a particular character one evening
which required a stick, King mislaid his own, and
seized another at the wings which was too large
MR. TYLER-MRS. BRETT.
283
and clumsy. Garrick met him as he was going
on, and observed it: Eh, eh, Tom, what's that?—
That won't do;-cudgel, Irish shilalagh-you're
a man in high life-ought to have a gold-headed
cane.' King was conscious of the impropriety,
and Garrick's observation nettled him; he there-
fore answered, rather testily, that he had lost his
own, and must use that or go on without one.'
'Curse it, Tom, said the manager, 'the people will
say you're going back to your old business, and
have brought your pole with you.' King threw
down the stick, and instantly ran to find another."
It is but fair to add, that, in theatrical biography,
Mr. King is said to have been educated for a bar-
rister. Mr. Tyler's early destination was commu-
nicated to the writer by his friend Johnson, who
emigrated with him, and was afterwards his part-
ner as a manager. Mr. Tyler died January, 1823,
aged 72 years and 4 days.
Mrs. Brett comes next in order. She was the
wife of Brett of Covent Garden and the Haymarket,
London, and mother of Mrs. Hodgkinson, Mrs.
King, and Miss Arabella Brett, the latter of whom
now arrived with her. She was a good actress,
and filled the line of comedy old women better than
had heretofore been seen.
Mrs. Tyler was no addition to the strength of
the company.
It will be perceived from this account of the ac-
cessions made to the already powerful company of
Hallam and Hodgkinson, that the comedy of The
284
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
Provoked Husband must have given satisfaction to
all, and delight to most of the audience. Mr.
Hodgkinson spoke an opening address, written by
Mr. Milns. It was common-place in the serious,
and silly in the attempted comic parts. But Hodg-
kinson could make any thing pass at that time, and
with eclat.
On the 12th of February, Miss Broadhurst and
Miss Brett made their first appearance, as Yarico
and Narcissa, in the Opera of Inkle and Yarico.
Mrs. Hodgkinson playing Wowski, her husband
Trudge, and Tyler Inkle. Miss Broadhurst we
have spoken of as one of Wignell's company. Miss
Brett was a child in years, but a woman in ap-
pearance, with a powerful voice as a singer, but
destitute of personal beauty. Mr. Tyler's first
singing character established him in the favour of
the audience.
Mr. and Mrs. Cleaveland were brought out the
succeeding night, he playing Zaphna and she Pal-
mira in Voltaire's tragedy of Mahomet. They were
genteel and useful performers; young and hand-
some, but in talent not above mediocrity.
In the beginning of March, some French per-
formers were engaged: M. and Madame Val, M.
Francisquy, and M. Dubois. Francisquy became
useful and attractive in pantomime; these per-
formers supported the beautiful and very fine
actress, Madame Gardie, in serious or heroic exhi-
bitions of that description.
The story of William Tell and the struggle for
WILLIAM TELL.
285
Helvetic liberty was at this time moulded into
dramatic form by the author of The Father of an
Only Child, and with songs, choruses, &c., was
called an opera. The subject was suggested to the
author by an English play, recently published,
which was utterly unfit and perhaps not intended
for the stage. Mr. Carr, for whom the principal
singing part was allotted, composed the music.
Comic parts were introduced with some effect.
Schiller's play on the same subject did not then
exist. We have had, of late years, a popular
English drama on the same subject, made more so
by the talents of an American actor.
I find the following curious passage in Keysler's
Travels." At the end of this hall," the arsenal at
Bern, "is an excellent wooden image of the famous
William Tell; he is aiming at the apple on the
head of his little son, who stands opposite to him ;
the hands and the eyes are admirably expressed.
He appears to have been a tall, raw-boned man, with
a very honest countenance; and, according to the
fashion of the times, one half of his coat is red, and
the other black and yellow stripes alternately; his
breeches and stockings are of one single piece, and
an arrow sticks in his coat behind his head; the
boy is laughing, as apprehending no danger."
The writer of the American play gave it a very
bad title, The Archers.
On the 30th March, 1796, Mr. John Hogg, long a
favourite actor in New-York, made his first ap-
pearance on the American stage, perhaps on any
286
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
stage, and so unpromising was it that he did not
appear again this season. He had given his name
to an actress, who is recorded in a previous chapter
of our history as having come to this country in
the year 1767, as Miss Ann Storer, being saved
from the burning ship at sea, and landed at New-
port, Rhode Island. Mrs. Hogg was many years
the representative of comedy old women, and an
excellent actress.
The character chosen for Mr. Hogg to appear in
was that of Virolet, in The Mountaineers. He was
no otherwise qualified for the part than as he was
a good-looking young man. Always diffident and
easily disconcerted, he never received favour or de-
served it from the audience until he fell into the
line of comic old men. Once possessed of popular
favour, he played many comic parts well. When-
ever it was his ill fate to be thrust into a tragedy,
he invariably lost his recollection, and as the time
for his appearance approached would be in perfect
agony, every moment losing his hold of the words.
of the part, and conscious that he only went on the
stage to stand mute or to utter nonsense. On such
occasions he would make a desperate effort, and
generally shouted out in a voice louder than neces-
sary, and perfectly distinct, something either unin-
telligible or foreign to the purpose.
On one occa-
sion, having to tell Cooper, who represented the
hero, that one of his generals could not be in the
field for fifteen days, Hogg roared, "he says he
cannot bring his powers these fifteen years!" This
HODGKINSON'S OFFER TO THE AUTHOR.
287
was received with bursts of laughter; the actor
standing like a statue, and perfectly unconscious
that he had said any thing amiss.
He made his first very great impression on the
audience in John Bull, when he played Job Thorn-
berry. We shall often have occasion to mention
honest John Hogg in the course of these annals.
About this time, Hodgkinson pressed upon the
author of The Father of an Only Child, whom we
have called the dramatist, a purchase of his half in
the concerns of the theatre, with the tempting bait of
having the sole control of the pieces to be brought
before the public. The proposition was made on
the 19th of March. The bait took. The enthusi-
astic dramatist seriously persuaded himself that it
was his duty to take the direction of so powerful
an engine as the stage; his thoughts at the time
lay open before me. "If the effects of the stage are
as great as its friends and enemies have concurred
in representing it, surely I should have the power
to do much good." The power of the engine is cer-
tain; his powers to direct it he ought to have
doubted.
The proposer was to obtain Hallam's concur-
rence; the price of the purchase to be valued by
the purchaser; time of payment unlimited; Mr.
Hodgkinson's services as an actor and manager
warranted. Tempting prospects of profit were dis-
played. It was stated that the theatre had cleared,
in the last six weeks, between four and five thou-
sand dollars. The power (not forgetting the power
288
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
to bring out his own plays) offered to the drama-
tist, the control of the stage in a large portion of
the continent, and wealth unbounded, were irresist-
ible; we shall see how the visions were realized.
Hallam's concurrence was obtained by Hodgkin-
son in April, and every arrangement made for the
dramatist to commence manager in May.
On the 18th of April, 1796, the opera of The
Archers was performed for the first time, and
received with great applause. The music by Carr
was pleasing, and well got up. Hodgkinson and
Mrs. Melmoth were forcible in Tell and wife. The
comic parts told well with Hallam and Mrs. Hodg-
kinson, although Conrad ought to have been given
to Jefferson. The piece was repeatedly played, and
was printed immediately.
At a meeting of the two managers and the dra-
matist for the purpose of signing articles of agree-
ment, Hallam began to raise difficulties. "There
may be a difference among us, who is to decide?
You two being a majority, am I to be bound by
your acts?" It was replied, that, as his property
was equal to that of the two, his voice in every
thing relative to property must be equal to both
his colleagues. This appeared satisfactory, but
he still declined signing the papers. The drama-
tist now found that he had to be mediator between
two men who were jealous of each other, and at
variance in the most violent degree; and, on the 1st
of May, Hallam laid open his grievances, com-
plaining of Hodgkinson's encroachments, and usur-
QUARREL ABOUT PARTS.
289
pations of power and of parts; having deprived
him of all those characters which gave him conse-
quence with the public, either playing them, or
contriving to keep the plays from being acted.
His wife, he said, was likewise aggrieved, misre-
presented, and deprived of her consequence by the
introduction of others. She had been restored to
the stage after the exposure above mentioned. Mr.
Hallam professed perfect confidence in the new
manager, and appealed to him for justice. The
dramatist promised to see Hodgkinson immedi-
ately, and did so. He ridiculed Hallam's wish to
keep young parts from him, declared that they
were his right, and he would have them or quit the
stage. After repeated mediatorial visits, the cha-
racters in dispute were reduced to six, and then to
four-Orestes, Hamlet, Ranger, and Benedict:
these Hodgkinson swore he would have, or not
play, although he had just bound himself to the
new manager and purchaser. The dramatist, in
all this disagreeable business, consulted and fol-
lowed the advice of his friends. Hallam declared
that he was " as much surprised at Hodgkinson's
demand of the parts as if he had demanded his
tables and chairs." This shows the view actors
took of this subject. A dispute for parts appears
ridiculous to the public; but upon the line of busi-
ness played depends the favour of the actor with
the audience, and his emolument from salary and
benefit.
VOL. I.
U
"WorM
290
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
The new manager by degrees quieted, if not re-
conciled, his colleagues, and entered upon the busi-
ness of directing a theatre with the approbation
of his former friends and associates, and without
immediate change in his mode of life. As the
theatrical season was drawing to a close, benefits
were the only concern of the actors, and the prin-
cipal occupation of all connected with the theatre.
But the discord between Hallam and Hodgkinson
was flaming out daily, and made the situation of
their associate any thing but enviable. Hodgkin-
son threw out hints that he would leave the com-
pany; said he was subjected to insult from Hallam's
family; "if he did stay with the company, he would
have a higher salary for himself and wife than
Hallam and his wife received, but would not be
joint manager with Hallam." The latter being
told this demand respecting salary, swore solemn-
ly, that Hodgkinson should not, in his company,
have a higher salary than himself. Such are the
scenes in theatres, such in many other places; but
actors seem to be jostled against each other more
than most men. The new manager began to de-
sire a retreat from the incessant quarrels of those
with whom he had connected himself.
Williamson, remembered by us as the principal
tragedian at the summer theatre in London in
1786, where tragedies were not the order of the
day, and a kind of stiff, handsome "walking gen-
tleman" of comedy, was now a manager of one of the
Maou
DEMANDS OF HODGKINSON.
291
Boston theatres, and at this time in New-York.
He stimulated Hodgkinson to hostility against
Hallam. Wignell, by offers of advantageous terms
to Hodgkinson, if he would come to Philadelphia,
strengthened his opposition to his first partner;
indeed he knew that he could command a great
engagement anywhere.
With his friend, Doctor E. H. Smith, the unfor-
tunate dramatist repaired to Hodgkinson, on the
last day of May, 1796, and demanded, "Will you
or will you not remain in the old American Com-
pany as a performer and assistant manager ac-
cording to your agreement ?" He hesitated,
wished that his answer "should be deferred until
the crisis between him and Hallam had passed."
He was told that his answer must determine the
conduct of the man he had invited into the busi-
ness; and he answered, "If I stay, my salary must
be raised, and that damnably," thus at once de-
stroying the basis of the agreement. "I have re-
ceived my answer," was the reply, and the friends
departed.
As Mr. and Mrs. Johnson and Mr. and Mrs.
Tyler had been engaged by letters to them from
Hodgkinson, written in his own name, he consi-
dered them as bound to him, and threatened to
withdraw them from the company. The rivalry
between Mrs. Johnson and Mrs. Hallam, the latter
supported by her husband's influence, rendered
this a probable event. Mr. Johnson anxiously
asked the new director if Hallam and Hodgkinson
T
U 2
292
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
were likely to be reconciled. He was answered
that Hodgkinson said he would leave the com-
pany, but that all engagements should be fulfilled.
He replied that he and his wife wished to remain
in New-York, but feared the Hallams, and com-
plained of Mrs. Hallam particularly, as an actress
and woman.
After several letters from the new manager on
the one part, submitted by him to his friend
Smith, and intemperate answers to them from
Hodgkinson, the latter made apologies and con-
cessions, gave up the demand for exorbitant sa-
laries, and expressed a wish for reconciliation with
Hallam. The mediator represented all this to
Hallam, who expressed his wish for accommodation,
and made proposals to relinquish parts and make
an equitable adjustment; but two days afterwards
he retracted, and said that his friends advised him
not to give up any thing. Hodgkinson now pro-
posed to leave the company, vesting all his pro-
perty in it and all his rights in the new manager,
and settling his accounts with Mr. Hallam. He
wrote to this purpose to Hallam, and it was agreed
upon. Under this new arrangement, engage-
ments were offered to the principal performers,
but here difficulties arose; Mrs. Johnson, always
of consequence, but rendered more so by the with-
drawal of Mrs. Hodgkinson, could not be recon-
ciled to sharing business with a woman like Mrs.
Hallam, and putting herself under the direction of
such a woman's husband. Hallam became furious
•
MRS. HALLAM WITHDRAWN from the sTAGE. 293
on hearing these objections, and the dramatist,
utterly disgusted, made known to him and to
Hodgkinson his determination to relinquish the
connexion.
66
The dramatist consulted Mr. Hugh Gaine, who
agreed that Hallam could only be saved from ruin
by withdrawing his wife from the stage, and un-
dertook to deliver a letter to him stating that her
continuance in the theatre would prevent the ful-
filling of the recent engagement with the writer,
who at the same time offered to give up accounts
and money, and retire. Mr. Gaine delivered this
letter, and advised Hallam to remove his wife from
the stage, but said he did not believe he would
do it. You have done your duty," said this
worthy man to the dramatist," and so have I."
Hallam, by the advice of his oldest friends, among
whom were Mr. Gaine and Mr. M'Cormick, con-
cluded to remove Mrs. Hallam from the eye of the
public; and the dramatist, supposing all settled
to Hodgkinson's satisfaction, was surprised by
his demand for more of the parts played by Hal-
lam, and finally by his avowing that he had en-
gaged himself to Wignell, having made the first
overture, in consequence of which Wignell had
been in New-York, and Anderson, his agent, was
at this time on the spot to secure Hodgkinson.
The letters were produced, and the person he had
been employing as a mediator, with the view of
keeping him with Hallam and in New-York, now
for the first time knew of the long existing nego-
294
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
1stment
of his name?.
ciation. Hodgkinson consulted his friends, and
determined to break off with Wignell and remain
in New-York. The consequence of this was that
new articles of agreement were entered into be-
tween Hallam, Hodgkinson, and Dunlap, for two
years, the latter having that power which he still
hoped to use for good purposes; but the first two
were in a state of bitter enmity, and so continued.
Let us for a moment pause and consider, merely
as a curious speculation, what must have been the
changes in theatrical history, if the mediation of
the new manager had not prevented Hodgkinson's
leaving the New-York for the Philadelphia thea-
tre. The acquisition of Mr. and Mrs. Hodgkinson,
Mrs. Brett, and Miss Brett, with probably Mr.
and Mrs. Johnson, would have prevented Wignell's
voyage to England, now on the eve of taking
place, and America might never have seen Mrs.
Merry and Mr. Cooper, and of course all those
events hanging on their presence and actions must
have given place to others; what, we know not.
Thus it is that the actions of one man, either in the
great or little world, change the whole course of
future events to eternity. Thus the strife and
bickerings in palaces and play-houses have their
influence in circles so wide that the imagination
cannot keep pace with them, or the human mind
trace their consequences.
It appears necessary to give some brief state-
ment of these difficulties and disagreements, and
yet I fear the reader will say, "What do I care for
JOHN D. MILLER.
295
the quarrels and jealousies of these men?" The
subject has been stated as briefly as possible, and
only because future transactions would be unin-
telligible without this information, and because
truth requires it.
July the 4th, 1796, found the old American Com-
pany at Hartford, and their new manager with
them. The day, as usual, was a day of rejoicing
and festivity. The theatre of Hartford was opened
on the 11th with The Provoked Husband and Purse,
and it immediately appeared that the receipts could
not support such a company of comedians.
About this time, John D. Miller made his first
appearance on the stage as Clement, in The De-
serted Daughter. He was a good-looking young
man, but destitute of education or talent. He
wisely retired in a few years, became rich, an
alderman, and a 4th of July orator. These civic
honours entitle Mr. Miller to more space on our
pages than any distinction he gained as a player.
He was a native of New-York, and the son of Mr.
Philip Miller, a German baker. John was born in
1771, and, preferring the ever-changing tempera-
ture of the stage to the eternal heat of the oven, he
determined to be a hero. After fighting against
nature for a few years, he wisely became a partner
with his brother, a grocer, and being a tall man,
soon became an orator among the sachems of
Tammany Hall, a common-council-man, and alder-
man.
Miller's debut is fresh in our recollection, as con-
296
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
nected with the admirable acting of Jefferson in
the character of Item, the attorney, whose clerk
Miller represented. Worked up to a phrensy of
feigned passion, Jefferson, a small-sized man,
seized Miller by the breast, and, while uttering the
language of rage, shook him violently. Miller, not
aware that he was to be treated so roughly, was
at first astonished; but, as Jefferson continued
shaking and the audience laughing, the young
baker's blood boiled, and calling on his physical
energies, he seized the comedian with an Herculean
grasp, and threw him off violently. Certainly John
D. Miller never played with so much spirit or
nature on any subsequent occasion. This may
remind the reader John Kemble's regret at the
death of Suett, the low comedian, who played
Weazel to Kemble's Penruddock. The lament of
the tragedian is characteristic, as told by Kelly.
"My dear Mic, Penruddock has lost a powerful
ally in Suett; sir, I have acted the part with many
Weazels, and good ones too, but none of them
could work up my passions to the pitch Suett did;
he had a comical impertinent way of thrusting his
head into my face, which called forth all my irri-
table sensations; the effect upon me was irresisti-
ble." Such was the effect of Jefferson's shaking
upon Miller, and Jefferson found the Yankee's arm
equally irresistible.
On the 19th of July, the new manager, after se-
veral delightful days, passed with his friends
Dwight, Alsop, and Cogswell, left Connecticut,
DEATH OF MR. KING.
297
leaving the business altogether with Hodgkinson.
It was intended that the company should remove
to Philadelphia, and open the old theatre in South-
wark. Funds were already wanted, and the dra-
matist, instead of reaping a harvest, had advanced
between four and five hundred dollars. His part-
ners made no offers to assist in the expenses ne-
cessary to remove the company and repair the
theatre, and the plan was given up.
Mr. William King, who has been mentioned as
one of the recruits brought out by Henry at the
same time with Hodgkinson, and who married
Mrs. Hodgkinson's sister, died early in October,
1796, at Norfolk, in the flower of his youth, a vic-
tim to vice. He had left New-York and joined
the Virginia Company, now a distinct corps, and
moving from one town to another in that state
which had first received the Thespians in 1752.
About this time died Mrs. Pownall, once Mrs.
Wrighten of Drury-lane theatre.
The summer had now passed.
continued with the company;
Island, in retirement; and their partner at Perth
Amboy, where Charles B. Brown was an inmate
with him, and occasionally Elihu H. Smith. In
September he was engaged in New-York, prepar-
ing for the opening of the campaign.
Hodgkinson had
Hallam on Long
By the 19th of September, the company had as-
sembled at New-York, and Hodgkinson demanded
a rise in his wife's salary, or threatened she should
not play. This was the commencement of vio-
298
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
lations of agreement, which, with other disgusting
affairs relative to the theatre, made the additional
manager heartily sick of his situation. The first
demand was resisted, and the threat waved.
On the 26th, the theatre in John Street was
opened with The Wonder and Poor Soldier. The
new theatre (or Park) was in progress. A tra-
gedy, called The Mysterious Monk, was preparing,
written by the author of The Father of anOnly Child.
A serious drama, accepted from John B. Linn,
called Bourville Castle, or the Gallic Orphan; and
an opera, called Edwin and Angelina, or the Ban-
dit, by Doctor Elihu Hubbard Smith, were in re-
hearsal. A farce was likewise nearly ready, writ-
ten by the author of the tragedy, called Tell Truth
and Shame the Devil. To these American pro-
ductions must be added another play, by an Eng-
lish author, The Comet, by Mr. Milns, an intimate
of Mr. Hodgkinson's.
The Mysterious Monk, the third tragedy written
by the author of The Father of an Only Child, was
performed with success on the last day of October.
The plot of this play turns on the revenge a
vassal, or villain, takes for blows and injuries in-
flicted upon him by his feudal lord, whose princely
soul, according to the creed of those days, had no-
thing in common with mere men. The degraded
vassal contrives to destroy his lord's peace, makes
him jealous of his wife, the murderer, as he sup-
poses, of his friend, and of the mother of his only.
son. The friend, however, recovers from the
THE MYSTERIOUS MONK.
299
wounds he had received, and, in the disguise of a
monk, saves the wife from her husband's jealousy,
ultimately restoring all to peace and happiness.
But, while he is working for the salvation of his
friend, the baron communicates the story of guilt to
his son, and the vassal, having secured, as he sup-
poses, his own safety, writes a letter disclosing to
the baron the innocence of his wife, and the means
he had used for his revenge. The son follows the
author of his parent's misery and kills him, but is
condemned to die for murder. All, however, is rec-
tified by the mysterious monk. The play is not
skilfully managed; but there are passages deserv-
ing preservation. The young lord speaks thus to
the monk :
Remember that thou speakest to thy master;
Be fair and open-leave thy wonted arts,
Or thou may'st raise a storm to blast thee, monk.
MANUEL.
Irreverend boy! I was mistaken in thee.
Rash and unthinking, dost thou mean by threats
To win the confidence of one like me?
I am a Christian, boy! and own no master,
Save one alone-Oh, how unlike to thee!
The son says, speaking of his father,
Honour is his idol.
MANUEL.
What is this boasted honour?
This prince's, soldier's, ruffian's, robber's honour?
Oft-times, at honour's call, the haughty lord
¿
300
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
Arms 'gainst his neighbour chief his vassal train,
And leads them on to massacre and carnage.
Then flames the peasant's cot. The midnight shrieks
Of infants slaughtered, virgins violated,
Rise on the wo-fraught cloud to Heaven for vengeance!
And gratify the ear of princely honour!
Manuel, speaking to the baron-
The work was all thine own: accuse not Heaven.
Even now the self-same demons rend thy soul
Which led thee on to murder innocence:
Thy passions.
RIBBEMONT.
Doth it not seem that Heaven denies its grace
Where most it gifts vain man with worldly glory?
MANUEL.
The snow, which as a fleecy mantle falls,
Covering the tender plant, its seeds preserving,
Is spread alike on hill and lowly vale ;
So falls the soul-preserving grace of God
In equal portions on the rich and poor.
But as the wind drifteth the wholesome snow,
Uncovering the lofty hill's proud summit,
And doubly blanketing the lowly vale,
So do the furious blasts of lawless passion
Sweep from the haughty head Heaven's balmy grace,
And doubly gift the humble.
But a brick, as has been said, or even two or
three bricks, give no idea of a house.
It
may
be remarked that the fable of this play
can be traced in Tobin's posthumous drama of The
Curfew, written many years after. The principal
parts were correctly played by Hodgkinson, Mar-
tin, Tyler, and Mrs. Melmoth. The characters
ARRIVAL OF MR. COOPER.
30 1:
and incidents were not in sufficient number, and
the piece, though published under the title of
Ribbemont, or the Feudal Baron, is long since for-
gotten.
On the 19th of October, Mr. Wignell arrived at
New-York from England, with the very important
reinforcement to his company of Mrs. Merry (late
Miss Brunton), Mr. Cooper, then a youth of
twenty, Mr. Warren, Mr. and Mrs. Byrne, and
Mr. and Mrs. Lestrange.
In the evening of the 20th, while Cumberland's
comedy of First Love was performing, Wignell
renewed his cordial acquaintance with the author
of Darby's Return, now one of the New-York
managers, and told him that he had a message
for him from Holcroft, the author of The Road to
Ruin, and many other popular works, and an
apology for not writing. A correspondence had
previously commenced. Godwin being mentioned,
Wignell said, "I have with me a young man,
educated from infancy with Mr. Godwin, of the
name of Cooper." The manager sought and found
Mr. Cooper in the green-room, and seating himself
beside him, told him that Wignell had said he was
intimate with Mr. Godwin. "As much so as any
man," he replied: "I have lived with him from in-
fancy; I am his son, not in the course of nature,
but much more than a common father is he to me;
he has cherished and instructed me." He then
mentioned several particulars respecting the
amiable William Godwin and his friend Thomas
302
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
:
Holcroft. Such was the first interview between
Mr. Cooper and one who for years was connected
with him in theatrical affairs and by reciprocal
acts of friendship.
Hallam and Wignell at this time met and were
apparently reconciled.
On the 2d of November happened one of those
riots which tend to throw obloquy on the theatre
unjustly. Two sea captains, doubtless intoxicated,
being in one of the stage boxes, called during an
overture for Yankee Doodle. The audience hissed
them; they threw missiles in the orchestra, and de-
fied the audience, some of whom pressed on the
stage and attacked the rioters in conjunction with
the peace-officers; one of the latter was injured by
a blow from a club. The rioters were dragged
from their box, one turned into the street, and
the other carried into a dressing-room. These
madmen afterwards, with a number of sailors, at-
tacked the doors of the theatre, and were only
secured by the city watch. The principal in this
transaction, Hayley, afterwards ran away with a
ship of Mr. Isaac Clason's, and carried her into a
French port.
On the 19th of December, 1796, Edwin and An-
gelina, or the Bandit, was performed for the first
time. This only dramatic production from the pen
of Dr. Elihu Hubbard Smith was, like himself, pure
and energetic. But it was not sufficiently dra-
matic, and the characters of Edwin and Angelina
were too familiar to all readers. He wrote many
DOCTOR ELIHU HUBBARD SMITH.
303
sonnets and essays, but published little except on
subjects connected with his profession. The drama
of Edwin and Angelina was printed, with a dedi-
cation to the author's parents, Reuben and Abi-
gail Smith.
This amiable and highly gifted man was born at
Litchfield, in Connecticut, in the year 1771. He
was fitted for entering Yale College at so early
an age, and graduated while so young, that his
father, Doctor Reuben Smith of Litchfield, very
judiciously placed him, although he had passed
through College honourably, for further tuition
under the care of Doctor Dwight, at Green-
field. He received his first medical education
under his worthy father, and the accomplishment
of it under the professors of Philadelphia. There
he became the friend of Charles Brockden Brown,
whom he introduced to the knowledge and friend-
ship of the writer. Doctor E. H. Smith practised
his profession in New-York, and there, with Doc-
tors Edward Miller and Samuel Latham Mitchill,
established the work entitled "The Medical Re-
pository." These men, with the others above
mentioned, formed the before-mentioned band of
literary pioneers. Of these the three last named
were all distinguished as writers and physicians;
another, Noah Webster, as a philologist and lexi-
cographer; James Kent and William Johnson as
jurists: Richard Alsop as a poet; and Samuel
Miller as a theologian. To such men were the
304
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
dramas of the American manager read and sub-
mitted.
He
Doctor Elihu Hubbard Smith fell a victim to
yellow fever in September, 1798. This was one of
those returns of devastating pestilence which de-
stroyed the hopes of fortune and usefulness which
his friend the manager had entertained, and rob-
bed that friend of one dearer to him than any
earthly wealth. Elihu H. Smith feared no danger
in the exercise of his professional duties, or of his
duty as a man. He relied, likewise, upon his ha-
bitual temperance, perhaps carried to excess.
continued amidst the dead and dying, firmly and
cheerfully exposing himself to infection. Finally,
a young and amiable foreigner, an Italian, arrived
from Philadelphia, where the plague likewise ra-
ged. He was seized with the symptoms before he
reached New-York. Smith and his friend John-
son had him removed to their house before men-
tioned, in Pine Street, that he might have every
aid humanity could render. He died. His nurse
and physician sickened, and when he saw the last
black symptoms of dissolution in his own case, calm-
ly remarked, "decomposition," and expired. Thus
the young, the temperate, the virtuous, the benevo-
lent, sank under the hoofs of the pale horse, and
pierced by his rider's darts—but they had enjoyed
life and the happiness flowing from conscious recti-
tude, and they died doing their duty, and calmly
bowing to the will of their God.
JOHN BLAIR LINN.
305
On the 9th of January, 1797, was first performed
a piece in two acts, written by the American
manager, called Tell Truth and Shame the Devil.
It was an alteration from a French one-act piece,
called Jerome Pointu. So little of the French
proverbe was retained, that it may be considered as
original. It was played a few times and forgotten.
It was printed by Longworth, and was, (as altered
to suit the place and people) played at Covent
Garden on the 18th of May, 1799.
Seven days after Tell Truth and Shame the Devil,
Bourville Castle made its appearance, written by
John Blair Linn. This young man was the son of
Doctor Linn, of the Presbyterian Church, had
graduated at Columbia College, New-York, and
was at the time studying law with Alexander
Hamilton. One of the most remarkable circum-
stances attending Bourville Castle is, that Charles
Brockden Brown, and the American manager,
whose guest he was, corrected the manuscript and
wrote out the parts for the performers. Mr. Linn
studied divinity, and was for some years pastor of
a church in Philadelphia, much esteemed as a
preacher, and beloved as a man. After his death,
Brown published an elegant biographical eulogium
on him.
On the 1st of February, The Comet, a comedy
by Mr. Milns, was performed. It was soon after-
wards cut down to a farce, which it had been
originally, when it was acted in London for John
Bannister's benefit.
VOL. I.
X
306
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
It appears that, although the American manager
had been empowered to cast all plays, that is, to
appropriate parts, this source of discord, even be-
tween Hallam and Hodgkinson, was not removed.
Hallam gave up most that Hodgkinson wished, but
he wished all. Hallam had played Goldfinch in
The Road to Ruin, and Hodgkinson Harry Dorn-
ton. On occasion of preparing the play for per-
formance, the latter told the manager that Hal-
lam was unfit for Goldfinch, and he must have it,
or he would not play in the piece. The manager
made a proper stand, and told him he must play
Harry Dornton, as it was the part he had played
by choice, and his name should be put in the bill.
The consequence was, that he went so far as to
consult the illustrious Hamilton respecting the
force of the articles he had signed, and, swayed
by his legal advice, submitted to play this very
fine part rather than forfeit his bond. It had
been agreed that no money should be expended,
or salaries granted, without consent of the three
concerned; Hallam, as being proprietor of half,
to have a voice equal to the other two. The sa-
laries of the three were fixed. But a proposal
was soon made to obtain higher salaries for Hodg-
kinson and wife, accompanied by threats of leav-
ing the company, or ceasing to play. The irrita-
tion between Hallam and Hodgkinson was inces-
sant, and the determination of Hallam to bring his
wife on the stage again, in which he found sup-
porters, made the internal business of the theatre
THE WOULD-BE ACTOR.
307
a constant source of vexations. Instead of the
promised assistance in the management, every ob-
stacle was increased, and every error exulted
over, by both the contending parties.
The frequent applications of would-be authors
and actors is a source of trouble to all managers.
Sometimes the applications are vexatious, some-
times ludicrous.
"Are you the gentleman who takes in play-
actors?" asked a youth of seventeen or eighteen,
slender, awkward, neatly dressed in a short blue
jacket, striped waistcoat, pantaloons of nankeen,
and half-boots. The reply was, “I have the di-
rection of the theatre."
“Do you want any actors ?”
66
Any person of extraordinary talents would
find employment. Do you know of any one want-
ing to engage as an actor?"
"I want to go on the stage myself."
66
'You! Did you ever attempt to go on the
stage!"
"Only at the Academy."
"You are an American ?"
66
Yes."
"Where were you educated?"
"At Goshen.'
"What plays did you perform in at the Aca-
demy ?"
Why, we played the Catos, and Tamerlanes,
and such."
"And what did you play?"
x 2
308
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
"I played Cato and Bajazet-and in The Bold
Stroke for a Wife, I played the Colonel. I was
the biggest boy, and so I played the biggest parts."
Sometimes a young Scotchman would present
himself for Douglas, because "Hairy Johnson was
successful in London;" or an Irishman, realizing
Murphy's Othello in The Apprentice.
On the 5th of December, 1796, Wignell, having
returned to Philadelphia with his powerful rein-
forcement, opened his theatre with Romeo and Ju-
liet, Juliet, Mrs. Merry, perhaps the best repre-
sentative of Juliet that was ever seen or heard.
On the 7th, the ballet dancers, Mr. and Mrs.
Byrne, were brought out; and, on the Friday fol-
lowing, the 9th, Mr. Cooper made his first appear-
ance in America, playing Macbeth.
CHAPTER XIV.
Letter from T. Holcroft - New Theatre, Park - Boston Theatres
— John B. Williamson-Bunker's Hill, a Tragedy - John Burk
The Hallam Riot - Hodgkinson hissed off the Stage Hallam
breaks into Jail-The Author's visit to Philadelphia, May, 1797
Convention from the Abolition Societies - Doctors Barton,
Rush, Griffiths Bartram the Botanist- Uriah Tracy — Oliver
Wolcot-Joseph Bringhurst - Wm, Cobbett "The Ancient
Day" Natural History Man of Fortitude - Boston and
Charleston Theatres Names of Performers known at this time in
the United States (1797)- Wignell and Reinagle, and the Phila-
delphia Company in Greenwich Street, New-York.
THE writer, having sent some manuscripts to Mr.
Holcroft, with whom he had exchanged letters
before, received the following from him; which,
as it gives the opinions of a veteran dramatist on
the play of The Archers, or William Tell recently
acted, and on other subjects connected with this
work, we will insert.
Dear Sir,
TO MR. Dunlap.
I received your last letters dated May and October; as I had done
others some months ago, in which you wished me to read your manu-
scripts. Your friend, Mr. Brewer, offered to put these manuscripts
into my hands; this I declined, and I will state my motives.
The reading of manuscripts I have found to be attended with
danger. I once read two acts of a manuscript play, and was after-
wards accused of having purloined one of the characters. The accu-
sation had some semblance of truth; latent ideas floated in my mind,
and there were two or three traits in the character drawn by me
similar to the one I had read; though I was very unconscious of this
when I wrote the character.
310
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
A still more potent reason is the improbability of good that is to
result from reading manuscripts. To read carefully, examine con-
scientiously, and detail with perspicuity the errors which the judg-
ment of a critic might think deserving of amendment, is a laborious
task: it devours time and fatigues the mind, and but seldom to any
good purpose. Books of criticism abound, and may be consulted by
an author who is anxious to improve. I grant that the critical re-
marks of a friend may be of great service. If a man have attained
that elegance of diction, depth of penetration, and strength of feeling
which constitute genius, to criticise his works before they are pre-
sented to the public may be a useful and a dignified task. Men acquire
these high qualities gradually, when compelled by that restless desire
which is incessant in its endeavours after excellence; and for these
gradations the books already written are, in my opinion, sufficient.
Your friend gave me William Tell to read: it proves you have made
some progress; but it likewise proves, as far as I am a judge, that
much remains for you to accomplish. Common thoughts, common cha-
racters, and common sensations, have little attraction: we must soar
beyond them, or be contented to walk the earth and join the crowd.
Far be it from me to discourage those efforts of mind in which I delight:
but far be it from me to deceive. If you would attain the high gifts
after which you so virtuously aspire, your perseverance must be ener-
getic and unremitting. I consider America as unfavourable to genius:
not from any qualities of air, earth, or water: but because the efforts
of mind are neither so great, so numerous, or so urgent, as in England
or France.
You wish for an independence. That man is independent whose
mind is prepared to meet all fortunes, and be happy under the worst ;
who is conscious that industry in any country will supply the very
few real wants of his species; and who, while he can enjoy the deli-
cacies of taste as exquisitely as a glutton, can transfer that luxury by
the activity of his mind and body to the simplest viands. Every other
man is a slave, though he were more wealthy than Midas.
I send you my narrative, but am surprised that there should be
any difficulty in procuring it at New-York. To a bookseller, the
conveyance of such things is familiar and easy; to an individual it
has the inconvenience of calling his attention to trifles, and disturb-
ing his ordinary progress. I am not certain that the man of litera-
ture is not benefitted by these little jolts that awaken him, or rather
endeavour to awaken: but I know from experience he is very un-
willing to notice them, they therefore easily slip his memory. This
is the reason that I did not send it before as you desired.
HOLCROFT'S LETTER.
311
With respect to the stage, it is a question which cannot be effectu-
ually discussed in a letter: but I have no doubt whatever of its high
moral tendency. Neither, in my opinion, was Rousseau right relative
to Geneva: for that which is in itself essentially good, will, as I
suppose, be good at all times and in all places.
London, Newman Street,
December 10th, 1796.
T. HOLCROFt.
Here was no flattery to the young author, but
much excellent advice. He probably flattered
himself that if the stern critic had read the ma-
nuscript instead of the printed play, he might have
found something more than "common thoughts,
common characters, and common sensations ;" and
yet it would probably have been merely self-
flattery. The remark respecting America, as being
"unfavourable to genius," was at that time per-
fectly true but the efforts of mind are now, and
must be henceforward, greater, more numerous,
and more urgent, than heretofore. The remark
only applies to literature and the fine arts. It is
applicable to a time past. The men of the present
day have advantages which their predecessors
had not.
At this time, January 1797, the managers were
negociating with the proprietors of the new the-
atre, Park, for that building, and Hodgkinson was
anxious to go to England to procure wardrobe
and performers. This was discouraged by the
American partner, who now knew the man and
his motives too well. Hallam was decidedly op-
posed to the scheme. In February, every engine
312
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
that Hallam could move was put in operation to
force a consent to the return of Mrs. Hallam to the
stage.
66
an
Mr. John B. Williamson, before mentioned as
remembered when playing at the Haymarket the-
atre, London, in 1785-6, was now manager of the
Federal Street theatre, Boston, and wished to take
the Hartford theatre for one season. A portion
of his letter to Hodgkinson is characteristic:
You wish to be informed how we go on;' I
scarcely need to point out what your own judg-
ment and experience here will suggest. We have
the opinion hollow as to the merits of the company,
and the patronage of the better sort.' But the
rage for novelty in Boston, and prevailing Jacobin
spirit in the lower ranks, are our strongest oppo-
nents. Two theatres cannot be supported
additional public could not be created with an
additional theatre. Could the joint receipts of
both houses be fairly averaged, I will venture to
assert they would not exceed five hundred and fifty
dollars, while we are expending upwards of twelve
hundred nightly, to take-' a plague upon both the
houses'-the deficiency must fall somewhere. How-
ever we pay punctually—it is in proof that our
opponents do not. They have brought out a new
piece, called Bunker's Hill, a tragedy, the most
execrable of the Grub Street kind-but from its
locality in title, the burning of Charlestown and
peppering the British (which are superadded to
the tragedy in pantomime), to the utter disgrace
BURK'S BUNKER'S HILL.
313
of Boston theatricals, has brought them full
houses."
This deplorable Bunker's Hill was offered to the
New-York stage, by the author, for one hundred
guineas. He published it, and we are sorry to
say it was afterwards played in New-York. The
author's letter accompanying the play is too great
a curiosity to be suppressed. Mr. Burk's History
of Virginia proves that it was not want of talent
or learning that occasioned this odd production.
Dear Sir,
To J. Hodgkinson, Esq.
From a wish that you should be possessed of my play as early as
possible, I have preferred sending on the original copy rather than
wait to have a fair one transcribed—where it was incomplete I have
written and made it good, interspersing occasionally such remarks
as, from seeing the effect in representation, appeared to me service-
able in getting it up. It was played seven nights successively, and
on the last night was received with the same enthusiasm as on the
first-it revived old scenes, and united all parts of the house. Mr.
Powell intends it for a stock play, and it will be represented on all
festivals-such as 4th July, 19th June, &c. It will be played here
in a few nights again, immediately after Columbus. The lines
marked by inverted commas are those spoken. The hill is raised
gradually by boards extended from the stage to a bench. Three men
should walk abreast on it, and the side where the English march up
should for the most part be turned towards the wings; on our hill
there was room for eighteen or twenty men, and they were con-
cealed by a board painted mud colour, and having two cannon painted
on it--which board was three feet and a half high. The English
marched in two divisions from one extremity of the stage, where
they ranged, after coming from the wings, when they come to the
foot of the hill. The Americans fire-the English fire-six or seven
of your men should be taught to fall-the fire should be frequent
for some minutes. The English retire to the front of the stage—
second line of English advance from the wing near the hill-firing
314
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
commences—they are again beaten back-windows on the stage should
be open to let out the smoke. All the English make the attack and
mount the hill. After a brisk fire, the Americans leave works and
meet them. Here is room for effect, if the scuffle be nicely managed.
Sometimes the English falling back, sometimes the Americans-two
or three Englishmen rolling down the hill. A square piece about
nine feet high and five wide, having some houses and a meeting-
house painted on fire, with flame and smoke issuing from it, should
be raised two feet distance from the horizon scene at the back of
your stage, the windows and doors cut out for transparencies-in a
word, it should have the appearance of a town on fire. We had
painted smoke suspended-it is raised at the back wing, and
is intended to represent Charlestown, and is on a line with the
hill, and where it is lowest. The fire should be played skilfully
[this puts one in mind of Bottom playing Moonshine] behind
this burning town, and the smoke to evaporate. When the
curtain rises in the fifth, the appearance of the whole is good-—
Charlestown on fire, the breastwork of wood, the Americans appear-
ing over the works and the muzzles of their guns, the English and
the American music, the attack of the hill, the falling of the
English troops, Warren's half descending the hill and animating the
Americans, the smoke and confusion, all together produce an effect
scarce credible. We had a scene of State Street-if you had one
it would not be amiss-we used it instead of the scene of Boston
Neck-it appears to me you need not be particular, but the hill and
Charlestown on fire. We had English uniforms for men and offi-
cers. You can procure the coats of some company at New-York`
which dresses in red. Small cannon should be fired during the
battle, which continued with us for twelve or fifteen minutes. I am
thus prolix that you may find the less difficulty in getting it up-it
is not expensive, and will always be a valuable stock piece. I should
not wonder if every person in New-York, and some miles round it,
should go to see
to see it represented.
represented. There will no doubt be some who
will call in question your prudence in getting up this piece, as being
not in favour of England. Those are blockheads, and know not the
public opinion in America. Boston is as much divided as New-
York-party was forgotten in the representation of it. Others there
are who will endeavour to prejudice you against its merit; of them
I shall say nothing. You have the play and can judge for yourself
-my reason for mentioning the latter description of men is, that a
man from Boston, who pretends to criticise without knowing how to
•
т
BURK'S BUNKER'S HILL..
315
spell, has been industrious in depreciating the value of my piece in
Boston, and I conceived it not improbable that he would act in the
same manner in New-York. When he found it had succeeded, he
ascribed its success alone to its locality. This man took a letter to
you from Mr. Barrett. I send you the prologue and elegy.
After consulting Mr. Barrett, who was delicate in advising, lest
he should be thought partial to one interest or the other, I have
concluded to charge you one hundred guineas for the copy, seventy
of which I request you will send to Mr. Barrett immediately on re-
ceipt of the piece, the remaining thirty on the fourth night of repre-
sentation. Mr. Barrett thinks it will run ten nights in succession at
New-York. I think not of printing it for one year, when I do I
shall dedicate it to the President. Mr. Bates has sent on to me for
a copy. I am in treaty with Mr. Wignell. The terms shall not be
lower than with you. I shall send you on from time to time such
pantomimes and entertainments as I shall arrange, on reasonable
terms. I have three at present, which I shall send on when you
please, as cheap as you can get a pirated copy of a farce. My new
tragedy entitled Joan of Arc, or the Maid of Orleans, is ready for re-
presentation. Excuse this wretched scrawl, it has been written too
hastily.
JOHN BURK.
We had our hill on the left side of the stage-the painting of
Charlestown on fire should not be seen till the fifth act. If there is
any thing you would wish to be informed on further, by directing a
line to me, you shall receive the speediest answer. As I look on
this only as the basis of a future negociation, I shall not be averse
to abate something of my demand, if you think it high, though I
am tolerably certain you will clear four thousand dollars in its run
only.
This is literal and faithful. He cleared by it 2000
dollars in Boston. Hodgkinson sent the piece
back immediately, but it was returned with a
letter offering it on the usual terms given by him
for new pieces.
The elegy mentioned in the letter begins,
He died for his country rain our tears.
316
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
•
And the first stanza concludes thus:-
His sacred blood was shed for you,
Oh let us shed our tears in lieu.
The author styles himself, "late of Trinity College,
Dublin." He says, "never less than 2500 persons
attended, sometimes 3000; our pit and boxes were
as good the last night as the first." Again, "this
act kept the audience in one incessant roar of ap-
plause, from beginning to end," "and "the fifth
act was received with still greater enthusiasm than
the fourth."
After some attempts to induce Mr. Hallam to
sell out altogether, which failed, the American
manager relinquished his salary to Hodgkinson,
who agreed to become the acting manager. It
was further agreed that the former articles should
be made void after the present season, the one
quitting theatrical management, the other leav-
ing the old American Company and New-York.
Happy would it have been if so it had been!
The re-engagement of Mrs. Hallam being re-
fused, notwithstanding threats and hints of com-
binations to create riots and coerce the managers,
her husband gave it out that she should play for
his benefit. The following regulations were put
up in the green-room.
Regulations for the old American Company, at the ensuing
Benefits.
March 24th, 1797.
The nights on which benefit plays will be performed, to be thrown
for in two classes, as on the last season.
REGULATIONS FOR BENEFITS.
317
Any performer giving notice, after this date, to the acting manager,
for the time being, of his or her wish to get up any new piece, on his or
her night, will obtain by such notice a prior right to such new piece.
No piece shall be performed in any other manner than as cast by
the acting manager for the time being, that cast to be obtained pre-
vious to advertising the piece.
No bill to be published until submitted to the correction of the
acting manager for the time being, and one of the other proprietors.
No performer can be required to study more than four lengths,
from play night to play night, and in the same proportion for a
longer time.
The evening after this notice was put up, Hodg-
kinson, on playing Puff, in The Critic, mentioned
himself as is usual, it being intended by the author
that the actor should do so; but, on this occasion,
there was a long and audible hiss among the plau-
dits; he then added "To be sure I am goosed,
but that's of little consequence; it is not the first
time this season that some envious scoundrel has
insulted me," and then went on with the part ap-
parently at ease.
On the 27th, Hallam informed Hodgkinson that
he would not agree to the regulations which had
been put up in the green-room, and had torn them
down. James Kent and William Johnson, Esqrs.
were consulted upon the articles of agreement, and
gave their opinion that a suit might be commenced
for the breach of them, but advised that no steps
of the kind should be then taken, unless they
would write to him.
On the evening of the 29th, the Hallams had
concerted an appeal to the public from the stage,
318
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
and had planned their measures with such secrecy
that Hodgkinson, then the acting manager, had
no intimation of them. He had been told that
Mrs. Hallam was behind the scenes, but that was
all. He was to play Colin M'Cleod, in The Fashion-
able Lover, and had come on the stage from the
left side to begin the comedy, when he was salu-
ted by hisses and the cry of "Off! off!" He stood
astounded, and the noise and hissing continued un-
diminished. Mrs. Hallam entered from the right,
dressed in black silk, her hair parted on the top of
her head, combed down on each side of her face, and
powdered. She looked beauty in distress. She held a
paper in her hands, and courtesied most profoundly.
The plaudits which saluted her entrance caused
Hodgkinson to look over his shoulder, and he then
first perceived that she was not only in the house,
but on the stage. There was a momentary silence,
when a person in the pit cried out "Insolence!"
on which a man sprung up, likewise in the pit,
and brandishing a cudgel, with which many ap-
peared to be armed, cried, "Out with the rascal!"
which was repeated by others, until it was super-
seded by another cry of "Hear Mrs. Hallam!"
And now Hallam was seen, dressed in black, stalk-
ing down the centre of the stage, and advancing
with many bows to the audience. A messenger
was despatched to give notice to the magistrates
that a riot had commenced at the theatre. Hal-
lam addressed the audience, and asked permission
THE HALLAM RIOT.
319
for Mrs. Hallam to read the paper she held in her
hand. Mrs. Hallam then read a statement of in-
juries received in being deprived of the means of
earning her bread, asserted that she never inten-
tionally offended that audience, and expressed her
eternal gratitude to those who now supported her.
She then retired amid plaudits. Hallam and Hodg-
kinson remained on the stage, the one in stately
black, the other in the Highland Colin's dress.
They both addressed the audience, but Hodgkin-
son was constantly interrupted by hisses; he how-
ever succeeded in stating that the offer to with-
draw Mrs. Hallam from the stage was the basis
of the present copartnership, and had been made
by Mr. Hallam. This Hallam denied. The other
appealed to Mr. Philip Ten Eyck, as the person
bringing the offer from Hallam. This was affirmed
by Mr. Ten Eyck, who was present, and pledged
himself to state the affair in the papers. Hodg-
kinson now obtained a hearing, and appealed to
the audience eloquently. He represented the in-
justice of attacking a player when on the stage
and defenceless, by a combination of numbers de-
termined to prejudge and insult him. "If I have
offended any one, I am known and to be found,
but I know not the persons or the names of those
who insult me." Some one cried out,
Some one cried out, "We are
not ashamed of our names.” “ Give me your name,
sir;--you who last spoke." But the champion
drew back and sheltered himself in the crowd.
320
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
:
Hodgkinson made use of the word riot. This called
forth vehement marks of disapprobation.
John Cozine, Esq., afterwards Judge Cozine,
got up in a side box not far from the stage, and
addressed the rioters. They hissed. He proceeded,
"You are guilty of a riot, and liable to all the con-
sequent damage that may ensue. You have no
right to demand any thing or person at the the-
atre, or on the stage, not advertised expressly in
the bill. If Mr. Hallam is aggrieved, he has his
remedy in a court of justice. You are rioters; you
will know to-morrow that the grand jury are
sitting." Another gentleman got up in a side box,
and told Hodgkinson that he degraded his pro-
fession by speaking to men who had entered into a
conspiracy to injure him, and would only hear his
adversaries. The tide was turning, and Hallam
requested that the play might commence, saying
he would withdraw Mrs. Hallam. Some one said,
"It is very hard that the public are not to be in-
dulged with a favourite actress." Hodgkinson
promptly replied, "You are not the public, sir."
He was asked if he would not permit Mrs. Hallam
to play. He answered, "Never, while I have any
thing to do with the theatre." He said he would
appeal to the public and the laws of the country.
He was now generally applauded, and the rioters
put down. The mayor and other magistrates were
by this time in the house. There was a general call
for the play. Hodgkinson said he could not pro-
HODGKINSON LEAVES THE THEATRE.
321
ceed after what had passed, but was soon per-
suaded, and commenced with the first line of Colin
M'Cleod, "Hoot awa," &c., amidst a shout of
applause; and uninterrupted plaudits continued
throughout the evening's entertainment.
On the 30th March, Mr. Philip Ten Eyck made
a statement of facts respecting Hallam's with-
drawing Mrs. Hallam from the stage, which state-
ment was given for publication to the Daily Ad-
vertiser and Patriotic Register.
On the next play night Hodgkinson was hissed,
until he finally took his leave, went home, and the
audience retired. He now declined appearing as
actor or manager, and with difficulty the per-
formers' benefits were arranged, and in a slovenly
manner carried through.
It was necessary to commence suits against
Hallam; but Hodgkinson, justly fearful that an
improper impression on the public might be made
thereby, gave instructions that Mr. Hallam's per-
son should not be molested; such an opportunity
however, was not to be missed, and he would go
to jail in spite of the sheriff. Hodgkinson wrote
to the deputy sheriff thus: "Sir, the impression
has gone forth among a number of citizens that
Mr. Hallam is in confinement at my instance. I
will thank you to say in return what my request
was to you respecting the suit for damages
between Mr. Hallam and me, and how, after the
conversation that passed this morning, he is sur-
VOL. I.
Y
322
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
rendered at all, or whether he is not permitted to
leave custody if he pleases." The answer was:
Sir,
April 18th, 1797.
I waited upon Mr. Hallam yesterday before I had seen you upon
the business of the writ, and, agreeable to the nature of the precept,
asked him to endorse his appearance. After a few minutes' con-
sideration he declined, and said he would go to jail. I remonstrated
against his resolution, and begged him not to let the impulse of the
moment lead him to put it in execution. He promised to wait upon
me this morning at nine o'clock, and conclusively determine what to
do. He came and said he had made up his mind to remain in
custody. I begged him to think better of it-that I desired no
endorsement from him, and he was at liberty to go when he pleased.
He would content himself with nothing short of actual confinement,
and though I told him the turnkeys should have orders to let him
out whenever he called upon them, he was determined not to be
liberated. I am sorry the contest between you has taken so serious
an aspect; I certainly have a high esteem for Mr. Hallam, and
would go great lengths to serve him, yet I must do you the justice
to declare, when I waited upon you at your request this morning,
you told me you was heartily willing he should be left at his word,
and wished no difficulty to arise that might savour of coercion. But
having supposed a breach of covenant had taken place on the part of
Mr. Hallam, you found no other way left you but the step which
you had taken, and trusted I would do every thing in my power to
convince him he was free from constraint.
(Signed,) ARONDT VAN HOOK.
Thus Mr. Hallam broke into jail, and the jailer,
after begging him not to do so, asked the lawyer
who issued the writ for advice, who, laughing, told
him, "Turn him out of doors, unless you keep
him as a companion." After playing this farce
some hours, Hallam walked home again and then
played sick, or was sick from disappointment and
vexation.
ABOLITION CONVENTION.
323
During the benefits, Mrs. Hallam again ap-
peared before the public as Lady Teazle, on the
night appropriated to her husband's son. Hodg-
kinson had been driven from the stage. The
writer had only continued in the direction to pre-
vent total loss; and, on the 2d of May, 1797, went
to Philadelphia as a deputy to the Convention
there meeting, from the Abolition Societies of
the several States. The deputies from New-York,
among others, were Doctor Elihu H. Smith,
Doctor Samuel L. Mitchill, and Lawrence Embree,
the same whose conscience refused 100 dollars for
the
poor, because it came from the manager of a
play-house. Uriah Tracy, of Connecticut, repre-
sented the Abolition Society of Connecticut in
Convention, as well the good people of the state in
Congress.
To relieve the monotony of a work on one sub-
ject, we will extract, from a diary kept at the time,
some notices of men and events of that day, which
may not prove uninteresting. Charles Brockden
Brown was now at home in his father's house in
Philadelphia. E. H. Smith had preceded the
writer.
Went by appointment and drank tea with
Charles. He shewed me a letter from Joseph
Bringhurst, in which he gives his reason for being
a Christian; the letter is highly pleasing and
lovely. We walk in the state-house yard, and
thence into the library. Here I read with much
pleasure a translation of Leonora. The bewildered
Y 2
2.
21
324
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
dream of a heart-broken girl, ending in death, is
finely imagined and executed. We leave the
library to see the circus and exhibitions of a
French equestrian (Lailson). Smith joins and
goes with us.
The coup d'œil of the house, lights,
and company, were pleasing, but a pleasure fleeting
in the extreme. Compare the pleasures of yester-
day (a day the writer had passed in the place of
his nativity, Perth Amboy), rambling over meadows
and clover fields, amid orchards whose blossoms
filled the air with fragrance, while birds of every
kind warbled or whistled their expressions of
happiness. To-day encircled in a huge enclosure,
from which the light and air of heaven is excluded,
surrounded by beings like myself, pretending to
rationality, yet sitting hour after hour to see men
and women, in fools' coats, display the gambols of
the monkey as the highest attainment of their per-
severing industry. We did not stay the show over.
I found Tracy at home, and passed an agreeable
hour with him.
May 3rd. Smith and self call on Brown. Bring-
hurst came hither from Wilmington yesterday; we
cannot yet find him. Go to the theatre, but do not
find Wignell. We called on Mr. John Leib, who
read us a dissection of Peter Porcupine, by his
brother Doctor Leib. We call to see Leffert: Vol-
ney is not in town, so we are disappointed in our
expected introduction to him. We went to Cob-
bett's book-store. He is a stout, well-looking man,
plain and manly, speaks well, but has an aspect of
THE AUTHOR'S DIARY.
325
ill temper. Bought Adams' Defence, in 3 octavo
vols., just published by Cobbett from the last Lon-
don edition. We now find Bringhurst at Brown's,
and pass a very pleasant hour with him. Evening,
Bringhurst and Brown called on us, and staid un-
til the hour appointed for the meeting of the Con-
vention. Doctor Rush I had met in the course of
the day; we now met him again, and Doctor Grif-
fith, General Bloomfield, and others of my ac-
quaintance. On returning home, Tracy, who had
been at the theatre, gave us an account of a new
drama in three acts, called The Ancient Day, by a
citizen of Philadelphia, which he says is execrable.
May 4th. Go with Tracy and Smith to the
"United States" frigate, now nearly ready for
launching. Met Wignell and Reinagle, who took
me to the theatre. I saw Cooper, who apologized
for not writing to me. He says he has not written
to Holcroft. Wignell left me, and I soon left the
theatre, which looks quite small after seeing Lail-
son's circus. Declined an invitation to dine with
Wignell on Saturday. Dine at Brown's, with Smith
and Bringhurst. Afternoon, met Oliver Wolcott,
who walked with my hand locked in his nearly the
length of a square; he reproached me with not
calling on him, and took my address. He asked
me for news. I told him I had just read a letter
attributed to Mr. Jefferson, which was very sur-
prising to me. He said it was not so to him, that
it corresponded with his manner of talking. I pro-
mised to call on him, and went to my lodgings,
326
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
where he came with the attorney-general, and in-
vited Tracy, Smith, and self, to dine with him.
May 6th. Attend to the laws respecting slavery,
in consequence of a nomination as chairman of
committee for that purpose. Tracy, Smith, Mit-
chill, and self, dined with Secretary Wolcott, and
passed an agreeable afternoon. He gave us some
wine sent by Joel Barlow to him from Algiers,
made from grapes the growth of that soil, and
manufactured by the hands of the poet and am-
bassador. Evening, theatre-The Way to get Mar-
ried. Pleased with Morton's Tangent. It was
easy and elegant, nothing overstrained. Cooper
exceeded my expectations in Faulkner. Mrs.
Merry was certainly every thing that an actress
could be in Julia. Her voice charming; her per-
son far exceeding my expectation, from having
seen her in a riding habit at New-York, but I am
not quite satisfied with her countenance, and see
or imagine some defect in her eyes.
May 7th. Smith, Mitchill, and self, breakfast
with Doctor Benjamin Smith Barton. Here I had
a feast of physical science. He shewed us a num-
ber of drawings in natural history, executed by
himself, with eminent accuracy and taste, among
which were two species of jerboa, lately discovered
by himself. He has promised me a list of such
plants of our country as have not been yet drawn,
or have only imperfect drawings or engravings
made of them. He shewed us, in a small box,
curiously preserved, a number of grasshoppers,
THE BUTCHER-BIRD.
327
each of which was transfixed with a thorn, and gave
us the following history of them. "A gentleman,
going into a young apple orchard, was surprised
to see the trees hung with grasshoppers thus trans-
fixed on the thorny branches. The farmer laughed
at his surprise, and told him that the birds did it.
For what purpose, or what birds, the farmer never
inquired. This was late in the autumn. The
gentleman's curiosity was strongly awakened; he
collected specimens of the insect, and watched for
the birds. The result of his observations in this
and the succeeding year was, that the "great ash-
coloured butcher-bird, or shrike,' a specimen of
which Doctor Barton produced (taken in the act),
is the bird that dresses out such curious shambles;
not only to serve as provision after the insect tribes
have run their little race of life, but as a bate
whereby to catch the small birds who remain late
in the autumn, or winter, among us. The bird-
catcher having baited the thorns, sits ready until a
bird is attracted by the bait, then pounces on and
secures his victim."
<
May 8th. Dine with James Todd, who had
other members of the Convention with him. Go
to Convention at 3. Mr. Patterson asserted that
what was morally right could not be politically
wrong, applying it to the sudden and total aboli-
tion of slavery, as it respects the Southern states,
and the acts of the French convention, which libe-
rated all their West India slaves. Doctor Rush
got up and approved this, repeating with admira-
•
328
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
tion Condorcet's expression of "Perish our West
India Islands rather than we should depart from
the principles of justice!" This he gave as sublime,
and said he did homage to it. Do these gentlemen
consider that justice is due to the inhabitants of
those countries where there are unhappily slaves,
and to slave-holders as well as slaves? Fiat Jus-
titia is in the mouths of many who do not consider
that to liberate the slave does not restore him to
his original condition, but probably devotes him
and his holder to misery, and that many a slave-
holder is innocently such-that, in short, justice
is due to all God's creatures, as is every act of love;
but this subject is better understood now, and
Colonization Societies are superseding the Aboli-
tionists, who are to be blessed for beginning the
good work.
May 9th. Rise about 5 o'clock, and join Charles
Brockden Brown about 6, for the purpose of walk-
ing to Bartram's Botanic Garden. We break-
fasted at Gray's Garden's, and then continued our
walk. Arrived at the Botanist's Garden, we ap-
proached an old man who, with a rake in his hand,
was breaking the clods of earth in a tulip bed. His
hat was old and flapped over his face, his coarse
shirt was seen near his neck, as he wore no cravat
or kerchief; his waistcoat and breeches were both
of leather, and his shoes were tied with leather
strings. We approached and accosted him. He
ceased his work, and entered into conversation
with the ease and politeness of nature's noblemen.
BARTRAM'S BOTANIC GARDEN.
329
His countenance was expressive of benignity and
happiness. This was the botanist, traveller, and
philosopher, we had come to see. He had pointed
out many curious plants. He said there was in
New-Jersey a third species of azelea, somewhat
like the viscosa; that at Passaic falls, his father,
John Bartram, and himself, had found in a shady
hollow, near the cascade, a species of geranium,
and, in the neighbourhood, the larch-tree. He had
heard of, but never seen, Wangenheim's book. Dine
with Smith and Mitchill at Dr. Rush's. He men-
tions several cases of hydrophobia cured by copi-
ous bleeding.
We will return to New-York and the Drama.-
During the month of May, negociations were in
progress respecting the new theatre, which were
not concluded until some time afterwards, and the
result shall be noticed in due time.
In the letter from T. Holcroft to W. Dunlap, we
find the first-mentioned person noticing the accu-
sation made against him of appropriating a por-
tion of a manuscript left with him for reading to
his own purposes in composition. Managers have
been accused of such thefts time out of mind. But
a most curious fact of that nature we will notice,
as characteristic of the extraordinary individual
who was one of the parties in the affair.
The person whom we have designated the Ame-
rican manager had written a piece in one act for
the stage, and called it The Knight's Adventure.
It was in blank verse. He left it with Mr. Hodg-
330
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
1
kinson, and it was almost forgotten, when Hodg-
kinson told him that he had written a play, and
called it The Man of Fortitude. This was the
whole of The Knight's Adventure, partly in prose,
with the addition of a comic buffoon, and a lady.
The author of the first piece remarked this to
Hodgkinson, who did not deny it, but only said he
had "altered every thing," and truly every thing
was altered. "And you see I have added so and
The other laughed and asked for his one act
piece, but it was not forthcoming. The Man of
Fortitude was read to companions at the dinner
table, to the company in the green-room, and on
the 7th of June, 1797, played for a benefit. We
scarcely believe the author was conscious of wrong
in the transaction, as far as injury to another was
concerned. The Knight's Adventure was after-
so."
wards recovered.
At a benefit given at the Boston theatre, in the
early part of March, 1797, the sum of 887 dollars
was raised for the prisoners recently released from
Algiers. As we have no occurrence to record be-
longing to this period, we will close this chapter
with an extract from the Minerva of July 29th,
1797, and some other "notes of preparation."
"The citizens of Boston are assured, that, for
five years to come, their amusements will not be
disturbed by an opposition between the two the-
atres. A formal agreement has taken place be-
tween Mr. Hodgkinson, manager of the N. York
company, and the proprietor of the City theatre,
ACTORS IN THE UNITED STATES.
331
Charleston, who have engaged the two theatres in
town. The Haymarket will be reserved for sum-
mer exhibitions, the Federal Street for winter.
The plan for the winter theatre is to have one com-
pany for Boston and one for Charleston, to be ex-
changed every season. The persons already fixed
upon and partly engaged are:
In Boston, Mr. and Mrs. Barrett, Mr. and Mrs.
Marshall, Mr. and Mrs. C. Powell, Mr. and Mrs.
S. Powell, Mr. and Mrs. Harper, Mr. and Mrs.
Graupner, M. and Madame Lege, M. and Madame
Gardie, Messrs. Villiers, Kenny, Dickinson, and J.
Jones, Mrs. Allen, and Miss Harrison.
For Charleston, Mr. and Mrs. Williamson, Mr.
and Mrs. Whitlock, Mr. and Mrs. Jones, Mr. and
Mrs. Cleaveland, Mr. and Mrs. Hughes, Mr. and
Mrs. Placide, Mr. and Mrs. Rowson, Messrs. Chal-
mers, Williamson (a singer), Downie, and M'Ken-
zie, Misses Broadhurst and Green."
When this catalogue of names is added to that
which may be composed from the two companies
at Philadelphia and New-York, we may form an
estimate of the progress of the theatre, and in some
measure of the country, since the year 1752.
In New-York were Mr. and Mrs. Hodgkinson,
Mr. and Mrs. Hallam, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, Mr.
and Mrs. Tyler, Mr. and Mrs. Seymour, Mr. and
Mrs. Munto, Messrs. Jefferson, Hallam, jun., Mar-
tin, Crosby, Fawcet, Prigmore, Miller, Lee, Wools,
M'Grath, Durang, Mrs. Melmoth, Mrs. Brett, and
Misses Brett and Hardinge.
332
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
And the Philadelphia company consisted of
Messrs. Wignell, Fennell, Cooper, Moreton, Har-
wood, Marshall, Blissett, Francis, Hardinge, Fox,
Warren, Warrell, Byrne, Green, and Lestrange.
Bernard joined after they opened in Greenwich
Street, New-York. Mesdames Merry, Marshall,
Oldmixon, Hardinge, Frances, Warrell, Lestrange,
and Misses Oldfield, Milbourne, &c. Such were the
successors, in 1797, to the company sent from
Goodman's Fields to Virginia in 1752, and playing
for the first time in New-York in 1753.
On the 17th of August, the following notice ap-
peared in the New-York newspapers: "The public
are respectfully informed, the entertainments of
the theatre, Greenwich Street, will commence on
Monday, the twenty-first instant. Wignell and
Reinagle." And on the 18th appeared this an-
nouncement: The public are informed, that
several principal performers of the Boston and
Charleston theatres, on their way to Philadelphia,
will perform, on Friday evening, a comedy called
The Wonder, with the farce of The Spoiled Child."
CHAPTER XV.
Solee and Company open in John Street, August 18th, 1797-Mr.
Whitlock-Wignell and Reinagle's Company in Greenwich Street
—Mrs. Merry—Mr. Cooper-Mr. Bernard-Mr. Warren-Mr.
Fox-Mr. and Mrs. Hardinge-Mr. and Mrs. Byrne-Mr. John
Joseph Holland.
THE performers announced in the last chapter as
of the Boston and Charleston theatres played in
the John Street theatre, the New-York company
being elsewhere. Mr. Solee, a French gentleman,
was the manager. He was imperfectly acquainted
with the English language, and utterly unac-
quainted with English literature, especially dra-
matic. The performers directed the business, which
was very bad in every sense, though some excellent
actors were employed in it. Mrs. Whitlock appeared
in Isabella, and was thus announced: "Mrs. Whit-
lock, the sister of Mrs. Siddons, and the Siddons
of America, is arrived, and will perform at the
theatre in John Street the short time the company
remains in this city." But the Siddons of America,
as we shall see, was playing at the other house,
the circus in Greenwich Street, fitted up as an
elegant summer theatre.
We shall dwell at some length upon such per-
formers attached to the company of Wignell and
334
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
Reinagle as have not already occupied our pages,
and although the order in which we shall notice
them is not intended to denote the rank which they
hold in our estimation, yet we begin with the
person who will long be entitled to the character
of the most perfect actress America has seen-
Mrs. Ann Merry.
This lady was born in the year 1770, and was
the daughter of Mr. John Brunton. She made her
debut at Bristol in the winter of 1785-6. Her
father was manager of a provincial theatre, and a
very respectable and truly worthy man. He was an
actor, but, though a man of excellent good sense,
was not a star in his profession.
Mr. Brunton married Miss Friend, of Bristol,
he being then a grocer in that place. He after-
wards established himself as a tea-dealer in London;
but fondness for the stage and an acquaintance
with Mr. Younge, of Covent Garden, induced him
to try his success at his friend's benefit, which led
finally to leaving trade and becoming profession-
ally an actor. He was successful in the Norwich,
Bath, and Bristol companies, and, becoming ma-
nager of the Norwich theatre, sustained an exem-
plary character, and reared a family of six children,
three of whom have been distinguished for good
acting off and on the stage, and have given cele-
brity to the name of Brunton.
Mr. Brunton commenced his theatrical career
when his daughter Ann was five years of age, in
the year 1774. Though her father was an actor
MRS. MERRY.
335
and manager, Ann had seen very few plays. The
family resided in an elegant cottage near Bath,
and Mrs. Brunton was the instructress of her chil-
dren. Nothing was further from the thoughts of
Mr. Brunton than a future career of fame for
his children in the profession he had chosen for
himself.
He taught his daughter to read Shakspeare,
without any view to her becoming an actress.
Coming home from rehearsal one day, he over-
heard her reciting Calista's speech upon the unfor-
tunate condition of her sex, and, on expressing
his surprise at the talents she displayed, he found
that she had studied and could recite the parts of
Juliet, Belvidera, and Euphrasia. After consult-
ing his friends, the determination was suddenly
taken to bring the young lady on the stage, Mr.
Palmer, the Bath and Bristol manager, having
pronounced her "another Siddons." In less than
a week from the discovery of her talent for acting,
she was brought on the stage in the character of
Euphrasia, and received with the most unqualified
applause by the public of Bristol. Her first ap-
pearance was for her father's benefit, he playing
Evander. The father and daughter played a father
and daughter.
Mr. Brunton spoke a prologue, written by Mey-
ler, as an introduction to the young heroine of
sixteen. All this was judicious preparation; but
still the audience only expected to see a girl, a
novice, perhaps a mawkin; but they saw with as-
336
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
tonishment a graceful and accomplished actress.
The applause and commendation in and out of the
theatre were proportionate to the surprise and ad-
miration. The characters of Horatia, in The Roman
Father, and Palmyra, in Mahomet, parts suited to
her age and figure, succeeded, and increased her
fame. Thus Siddons, the greatest tragedian we
have ever seen, had to struggle through difficulties
to reach that pinnacle on which she towered for
almost half a century unrivalled, while Ann Brun-
ton, a child in years, soared at once to almost an
equal height. Mrs. Siddons had person, power,
art, beyond all contemporaries Mrs. Merry had
voice and feeling, that went as direct to the heart
of a feeling auditor as the ray of light to its desti-
nation.
Mr. Harris soon after engaged both her and her
father for Covent Garden. In the season of 1785-6,
the writer witnessed her first appearance on the
London boards in the character of Horatia, in
The Roman Father, Henderson playing Horatius.
The streets adjacent to the theatre were crowded
before the opening of the doors, and all the usual
consequences of a rush ensued. Borne into the pit,
we remained wedged in where the crowd placed us,
but we were amply repaid for the sufferings experi-
enced in narrow passages, while moved (although
motionless from the shoulders downward) to the seat
we were thrust into. The extraordinary self-pos-
session of this young lady, not yet sixteen, when
she appeared at Bristol the preceding year, has
MR. MERRY.
337
been recorded by a witness, and it apparently did
not desert her on this occasion. Her voice, never
exceeded in sweetness and clearness, did not falter,
her action was perfect; she was the Horatia of the
poet, and London confirmed Mr. Palmer's opinion
that she was "another Siddons." Yet there was
no similarity except in mind. Their persons and
manners were indeed opposite, and, as we have
said above, though Mrs. Merry made her way
direct to the heart, the prize was won by gentle-
But Siddons seized upon it with a force that
was irresistible. We speak of her such as she
was at the time Miss Brunton appeared in London,
in the height of her power and popularity.
ness.
The town was prepared to see a wonder in Miss
Brunton, and it was not disappointed. She was
ushered in with those attentions which Mr. Harris
thought due to merit. Murphy wrote a prologue
to introduce her. Holman, then a young man,
and new to the London audience, spoke the vete-
ran's lines. Pope, likewise new in London, and
Holman's rival, played the young hero of the piece;
and Henderson, incomparably greater than either
of them, played the father.
Holman, who had made his debut as the Romeo
of Miss Younge the preceding winter, was now
better mated in respect to age and personal ap-
pearance with the Juliet of Miss Brunton; and in
The Orphan, her Monimia was supported by Hol-
man, Pope, and Henderson, in Chamont, Castalio,
VOL. I.
Z
ما
I
}
338
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
and Acasto. While Lear was in preparation for
her Cordelia, Henderson, who was to personate
the aged king and father, died—the greatest loss
the English stage has sustained since Garrick. He
was not so great a tragedian as Siddons, though
greater than any other of his time; but he was as
great a comedian as tragedian, and his Leon, Don
John, and Falstaff, were perhaps never equalled.
Miss Brunton attracted the admiration of Mr.
Robert Merry soon after her engagement at Covent
Garden, and his person, fashion, address, and ami-
able disposition, added to the eclat of the Della
Cruscan poetry, then estimated higher than since,
won her heart and hand. She became Mrs. Merry,
and retired from the stage as soon as her engage-
ment was at an end. She was never known on
the stage as Mrs. Merry in London.
In 1792, Miss Brunton was removed from the
English dramatic world, and, as Mrs. Merry, visited
the continent of Europe with her husband. Re-
turning, they lived in retirement until 1796, when
Merry's reduced fortune and his wife's love of a
profession in which she was so eminently qualified
to shine, led to an engagement with Wignell for
Philadelphia; the poet being willing that his wife
should appear as such, on the stage, in a foreign
land and among republicans, though averse to the
same public exhibition of her talents before his
former acquaintance of St. James's and Bond
Street. We have mentioned their arrival at New-
MR. MERRY.
339
York on the 10th of October, 1796, and on the 5th
of December, she was introduced to the public of
Philadelphia as Juliet, Moreton being her Romeo.
Notwithstanding this great accession to the
strength of the company, and Mrs. Merry playing
all her great characters, the manager was a loser
by the season; and, as we have seen, led his forces
to New-York, and opened as a theatre what was
then known as Rickett's circus, in Greenwich
Street.
Our most valuable correspondent, Mr. William
B. Wood, of Philadelphia, whose opinions and re-
collections of acting and actors are in unison with
our own, and who has furnished us with many va-
luable facts for this work, says, "The delight of
the New-York people was at its height, when Mr.
Wignell opened the Greenwich Street Circus with
Venice Preserved, Jaffier, Moreton; Pierre, Cooper;
Belvidera, Mrs. Merry; and all the inferior parts
well played"—and well might they be delighted.
Of this highly-gifted lady we shall have to
speak, a pleasing task, again and again, in the
course of our work.
Her accomplished husband was born in London,
April, 1755, and was educated at Harrow. He
entered at Christ Church College, Cambridge,
but left the university without taking a degree.
He was entered of Lincoln's Inn, but on the death
of his father, bought into the Horse Guards, and
served as adjutant and lieutenant. Quitting the
service, he went abroad, and resided some years
z 2
340
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
at Florence, where he was elected a member of
the Della Crusca Academy. This name he used,
on his return to England, in his poetical publi-
cations. His first performed play was Lorenzo,
and in that the same lady played as Miss Brunton,
who supported his last dramatic production by her
talents as Mrs. Merry.
Mr. Merry wrote several dramas, but they do
not live as acting plays. His Della Crusca and
Mrs. Cowley's Anna Matilda occupied public at-
tention for a time. He wrote for the London
Journals under the signature of "Tom Thorne,"
and felt the vengeance of the ministerial prints for
expressing his republican opinions. Gifford, in the
Baviad and Mæviad, put an end to Della Cruscan
· poetry.
All those who enjoyed the acquaintance of Mr.
Merry have represented him as a well-informed,
intelligent, amiable, man of genius. In early life
he was a bon vivant. He was a good husband and
stedfast friend, but indolent, and more addicted to
ease and punning than disposed to the severe duties
which man in society is called upon to fulfil.
On the first night of The School for Scandal,
Merry whispered to a companion, "I wish the
dramatis persona would leave off talking, and let
the play begin." Being in company with one of
the cabinet ministers, the noble duke remarked,
that, by supporting the constitution, his majesty
had proved himself a good upholder. 'True,"
said Merry," but a bad cabinet-maker."
66
1
MR. COOPER.
341
The only play he wrote (either the whole or in
part) in America was called The Abbey of St.
Augustine. It was played in Philadelphia in 1797.
His dramatic productions in England were Ambi-
tious Vengeance, tragic drama, 1790; Lorenzo,
tragic, 1791, in which Miss Brunton, afterwards
Mrs. Merry, performed the heroine; The Magi-
cian no Conjuror, comic opera, 1792; and Fenelon,
serious drama, 1795.
Mr. Merry died at Baltimore in the latter part
of the year 1798. The day before Christmas he
walked out into the garden, apparently well, and
was found helpless on the ground soon after. Mr.
Wood, in a letter before us, says, "Mr. Merry's
is an interesting recollection to me. In my early
theatrical efforts, I felt myself indebted to him and
his gifted wife for the best instructions I ever
received. His death was to me a severe loss. He
literally died in my arms, as some years after did
his wife. No man possessed less guile. His latest
words were most cheerful."
Mr.
Mr. Thomas Abthorpe Cooper will command
our attention next. We have spoken of his arrival
in New-York at the same time that Mrs. Merry,
accompanied by her accomplished and well known
husband, landed on the shores of America.
Cooper was born in 1776. His father was an Irish
gentleman, a surgeon by profession, and long re-
sided at Harrow on the Hill, but entered into the
service of the East India Company, and died in
India. His mother going to Holland when he
342
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-
was between eight and nine years of age, the cele-
brated William Godwin, a friend of the deceased
father, prevailed upon her to leave the boy with
him, and was to him a father. We have noticed
that at the time of his arrival and first visit to the
John Street theatre, he called himself, in conver-
sation, the son of Godwin; "much more than a
common father is he to me; he has cherished and
instructed me." Mr. Godwin was his preceptor,
his monitor, his friend. He instructed him, as he
could receive the instruction, in French, Latin,
Italian, and Greek. He regularly read to him
every day after dinner. Among the books thus
read and explained were Clarissa Harlowe, and
all Shakspeare's plays. It was customary for Mr.
Godwin to dine every Sunday with his friend
Holcroft, and Tom always went with him. Thus
he lived with one of the most pure and benevolent
of men until he was sixteen years of age, when,
one morning, to the astonishment of the philoso-
pher, Tom told him abruptly that he was tired of
studying Latin and Greek, and thought it was
time to go into the world, as he was able to take
care of himself. Godwin, although surprised,
asked him what he wished to do. Cooper replied,
Walk to Paris and join the republican army."
Mr. Godwin only said,
We will talk further on
the subject to-morrow morning."
66
66
By the persuasion of his friends, Godwin and
Holcroft, the youth relinquished his military
MR. COOPER.
343
schemes, and, as his great object was to be inde-
pendent, he proposed, among other projects, that
of becoming a chorus singer at one of the the-
atres. Whether in earnest, or only to gain time
and turn his attention to something else, Holcroft
made an appointment for Cooper to come to him
that he might judge of his voice. On trial Hol-
croft said it would not do. Singing was given up,
and acting was thought of. The young aspirant
read Zaphna, and Holcroft declared it was hope-
less; but, on his speaking a speech of Richard,
hope was revived. Holcroft had played on, as
well as written for, the stage, and was doubtless
an admirable critic. He acted the part of Figaro
when his translation of Beaumarchais' Marriage
of Figaro was performed at Covent Garden in
1785, under the title of The Follies of a Day. He
was not then a player by profession, but for some
reason performed the part on the first night, Bon-
ner appearing in it on the second.
Cooper's friends finding his determination to be
a hero of some sort invincible, preferred the stage
to the army, and, after preparatory drilling and
much deliberation as to the scene of operation, he
was furnished with money and letters, and sent by
the stage-coach to Edinburgh, where Stephen
Kemble, commonly called the great Kemble from
his bulk, was manager.
Arrived at the Scottish capital, Tom, who had
heretofore retained the dress of a boy, put on the
4
344
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apparel of manhood. His dangling locks were
frizzed, powdered, and queued according to the
fashion or folly of that day; and, in all the awk-
wardness which novelty of dress and situation
bestowed, with a figure neither that of man nor boy,
he waited upon that awe-inspiring personage, the
manager. He was received politely, but when
King Stephen opened his letter, and found him re-
commended for Young Norval, his smiles fled, and
chagrin marked his countenance. Tom, though
awkward from novelty of circumstances, was
handsome, and nothing doubting his own talents
or appearance. The manager took time to consi-
der the business, and after another cool reception,
a rehearsal was called, and Mr. Cooper was flat-
tered with the idea of playing Young Norval, with
Mrs. Siddons for Lady Randolph. The lady,
however, did not attend rehearsal, but her husband
was present to judge of the young debutant. Tom
ranted. Kemble walked up and down the stage
in silence. The rehearsal was over, and Cooper,
perfectly satisfied with himself, concluded that
Kemble, if dumb, was only so in consequence of
extreme admiration, and waited the opening of
the great man's mouth to receive his meed of
praise-but all that fell from it was a request that
he would wait on the manager next day. Still
full of confidence, he kept the appointment to a
minute. No thought had yet entered his head
that could damp the heroic ardour of Young Nor-
MR. COOPER.
345
val, or lower the tone in which he had shouted,
"The blood of Douglas can support itself."
"This is a very difficult part you have chosen,
Mr. Cooper."
"Very difficult, sir," with a smile which said,
"but not too difficult for me.”
"You had better think of something else."
Here the veil was drawn aside; the reality ap-
peared. Tom was rejected. Douglas was performed.
He saw another hero fill the space he expected to
occupy, and receive the plaudits hope had promised
and dreams had already given him.
He remained with the company unemployed
until they removed to Newcastle-upon-Tyne ;
there he was occasionally "sent on," as the
phrase is, remaining unnoticed, dependent, and in
the very worst school a youth of seventeen could
be in, until by some chance, or as the last resort
of the manager, the part of Malcolm, in the tra-
gedy of Macbeth, was assigned to him. In this
humble part, in that play which appeared to re-
ceive new lustre from his representing the princi-
pal character at a day not far distant, did this
great tragedian make his debut. And he was
hissed before he got through this first effort. Till
the last scene, he passed through neither noticed
nor applauded; but when he came to the lines
which conclude the play, called the tag, and the
audience expected to hear the well-known lines,
So thanks to all at once, and to each one
Whom we invite to see the crowned Scone-
{
346
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66
the heir of Duncan and successor of Macbeth
stretched forth his hand and assumed the royal
smile of condescension; he saw the people rising
in the theatre to depart; he lost his presence of
mind and all recollection of the gracious words he
had been prepared to utter-confusion begat ter-
ror, and he stood silent and motionless, his royal
hand held forth and lips unclosed. The prompter
was heard, So thanks to all"-Macduff whis-
pered, "So thanks to all"-Macbeth, though
long dead, echoed, "So thanks to all"-the audi-
ence spoke to him no thanks but hisses-Tom
continued with outstretched hand and unmeaning
smile, and so might have continued, had not Mac-
beth ordered the trumpet to sound, and the cur-
tain to fall, amid the hisses and hootings of the
audience.
The manager rose, and ordered young Malcolm
to follow him. Then, and not till then, did Tom
move or cease to play Orator Mum.
"Order the treasurer to pay Mr. Cooper five
pounds. Mr. Cooper, I have no further service for
you."
Thus terminated our hero's first campaign, and
he was happy to find himself once more at the hos-
pitable hearth of William Godwin, after having
expended his last penny to pay his passage back
to London in a collier.
His friends, being convinced that he had the
requisites for a tragedian, or, to use Sheridan's
words of himself, "that he had it in him," advised
MR. COOPER.
347
him to try some of the country theatres, and he
was sent to Portsmouth. He here first met Tyler,
a short time before his engagement with Hodgkin-
son for America. Tyler has told the writer that
he thought him a most unpromising boy, and was
astonished, when in New-York, to hear that this
same good-for-naught stripling was playing Ham-
let and Macbeth with success in London.
At Portsmouth he received a small salary, was
not intrusted with any business that called forth
his exertion or excited his ambition, and in idle-
ness and dissipation he was forgetting the precious
precepts implanted by his instructors. They re-
called him to London, and, finding him still deter-
mined to be a player, they set themselves anew to
the task of qualifying him for success.
Cooper now no longer lived under Mr. Godwin's
roof, but that friend and Holcroft directed his
studies avowedly for the stage, and he was well
instructed in Hamlet and Macbeth before he again
exposed himself to an audience. Hamlet was
chosen for his trial part, and every account of
that night's performance mentions it as one of the
most successful ever remembered. Macklin, the
Nestor of the stage, so pronounced it, and con-
gratulated the triumphant youth accordingly.
Macbeth followed with equal success.
Thus,
before he was nineteen years of age, the despised
boy had triumphed in the two most difficult
characters of the drama, and received the ap-
348
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
plauses of those who had witnessed the veteran
skill of Garrick, Henderson, and Kemble.
Mr. Cooper was brought forward soon after in
Lothario-" the gallant, gay Lothario." If God-
win and Holcroft advised this, it was lamentably
misjudged. The qualifications for Hamlet or
Macbeth may be possessed by an actor, and not
one requisite for Lothario be in his possession.
To add to his stiffness, Mr. Lewis put him in a
suit of clothes too small-it was a failure. He
was offered an inferior line of business by Mr.
Harris, with an engagement for Covent Garden,
but refused it. Fifty guineas was the payment
for his services, and he retired into Wales to
study. It appears, however, that, in September,
1796, Mr. Cooper was performing at Cheltenham.
Wignell now arrived in London, and heard of
Cooper's fame. Holcroft was applied to, as was
Godwin, in respect to an engagement for Philadel-
phia, and offers made to induce the young actor
to leave England. The following letter will show
their sentiments on the subject. The first part
appears to be in reply to some complaints made
by Cooper.
You do not like the word lamentation. You will less like the word
I am going to use. But before I use it, I will most sincerely assure
you I mean it kindly. I do not like rhodomontade heroics. They
are discordant, grating, and degrading. They are the very reverse
of what you imagine them to be It was not from report, but from
your letter itself, that I collected my idea of lamentation: and, com-
pared to your sufferings, I repeat, Jeremiah never lamented so
loudly: at least, such is my opinion, and I hope you did not intend,
MR. COOPER.
349
by a hackneyed and coarse quotation, to deter me from saying that
which I think may awaken your attention. If you did, it was in a
moment of forgetfulness; for you know that a man of principle
ought not to be so deterred. I speak plainly from the very sincere
wish, which I so long have cherished, of rousing you at once to the
exertions of genius, and the sagacity of benevolence and urbanity.
It is to exercise benevolence and urbanity myself, that I am thus in-
tent in wiping from your mind all impressions of supposed rudeness
or rigour in thus addressing you.
And now to business: after just reminding you that, though you
did not wish me to apply for a London engagement for you, it
would have looked quite as friendly had you written to me without
this personal motive.
Mr. Wignell, the manager of the theatres of Philadelphia and Bal-
timore, in America, has applied to me, offering you four, five, and
six guineas a week, forty weeks each year, for three succeeding
years; and ensuring benefits to the amount of a hundred and fifty
guineas. I have reflected on the subject, and have consulted your
other true and tried friend, Mr. Godwin; and notwithstanding that
this offer is so alluring, it is our decided opinion that, were it ten times
as great, it ought to be rejected. As an actor, you would be extinct,
and the very season of energy and improvement would be for ever
passed. I speak of men as they are now constituted; and after the
manner, as experience tells me, that their habits become fixed, eradi-
cably fixed. Mr. Godwin indeed expresses himself with great force,
mixed with some little dread, lest money should be a temptation
that you
could not withstand. However, we both knew it to be but
right that the decision should be entirely your own; and I therefore
send you this information. Be kind enough to return me your an-
swer; and, without regarding my or any man's opinion, judge for
yourself. It is right that Mr. Wignell should not be kept in sus-
pense. Yours, kindly and sincerely,
September 3d, 1796.
T. HOLCROFT.
The above is a transcript of a letter which was dated August the
26th, and directed to you at Swansea, where I suppose it is left.
Let me request an immediate answer.
A gentleman has just been with me on the part of Mr. Daly, who
is to be in town in nine or ten days, and wishes to engage you for the
winter season, but this I think as prejudicial, except that it is some-
thing nearer home, and not so durable an engagement as America.
Ireland is certainly the school of idleness. However, all these mat-
ters must be left to yourself.
350
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
This was directed, "Mr. Cooper, Theatre, Chel-
tenham," by as true a friend as ever man had, but
the views of youth are ever widely different from
those of age. Cooper chose to embark upon the
sea of adventure and the Atlantic, and to try a
new scene in a New World.
Mr. Cooper, before embarking for America, went
to London to see and take leave of his two best
friends, and both Godwin and Holcroft attended
him to the coach, when he left the metropolis to
join the companions of his voyage.
Godwin and Holcroft are both important in lite-
rary history generally, and particularly entitled
to notice as dramatists. Mr. Cooper remembered
Godwin, when he first knew him, in his clerical
dress-a black suit, large cocked hat, his hair
frizzed at the sides and curled stiffly behind. He
is a small, well-made man, with a thin face, large
nose, blue eyes, and most placid countenance. He
changed his dress to a blue coat, yellow cassimere
breeches, very blue white silk stockings (the same
in which he equipped Cooper for his Scotch expe-
dition), his hair plaited behind, instead of the
single clerical curl, and the large cocked hat was
dismissed and replaced by a round one. At this
time he put on spectacles. The last dress his
pupil saw him in when he left home was a plain
suit, with short, unpowdered hair; and the dress
of Holcroft was perfectly similar.
Mr. Godwin is principally known among the
readers of the present day as the author of Caleb
Williams, but will be known hereafter as the his-
MR. COOPER.
351
torian of the English Commonwealth, the vindi-
cator of our forefathers, the glorious republicans,
to whose enlightened opposition, when the first
Charles asserted the divine rights of monarchy,
England and America may trace the origin of
their liberty. That Godwin's History of the Com-
monwealth has not been reprinted among us
shows an apathy or an ignorance that ought to
be amended. Mr. Godwin wrote one tragedy,
called Anthonio. He is now between seventy and
eighty years of age, and, to use his own expres-
sion, "a destitute man of letters"-we will add-
a man of first-rate talents, poor and neglected, in
the land he has loved and faithfully served. But
he is a republican.
We have mentioned Mr. Cooper's arrival in New-
York on the 18th of October, 1796, whence he pro-
ceeded with Wignell to Philadelphia, and made
his first appearance in America in the character
of Macbeth, on the 9th of December, 1796.
The first line in tragedy was preoccupied in
Philadelphia by Fennell, who, having come out
with the first company of Wignell and Reinagle,
had preoccupied likewise the favour of the public,
especially the literary men. Tall, handsome in
person, specious in manner, well educated, and
ever courteous, Fennell as a gentleman at this time
stood high. He lived splendidly, and far beyond
his income, courted the world, and was courted in
return. Cooper's character and conduct was as
opposite as possible. Frank, fearless, and too
352
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-
careless-he soon made friends, but they were the
younger and less influential portion of the popula-
tion. Such was the state of things at that time,
and discontent was the consequence. He had re-
fused an engagement to play inferior parts in
London, and the great parts were pre-occupied in
Philadelphia.
When the time arrived for his first benefit, the
seats were not taken. To be sure, he was ensured
by the manager to a certain amount. This did
not satisfy Cooper, and he hired for sixty dollars
an elephant that had just arrived, and advertised
the new performer for Mr. Cooper's benefit. Those
who had declined to take seats to see and support
the best tragedian, although not yet so finished as
afterwards, that had yet played in America, filled
the house to overflowing to see the stage disho-
noured by an elephant.
Early in May, 1797, the writer saw Mr. Cooper
for the second time. It was on the stage at a
rehearsal, in the Chestnut Street theatre. The
first time we had an opportunity of seeing him
play was not in a character suited to him—it was
the Serious Father, in the comedy of The Way to
get Married. Yet in this he exceeded expecta-
tion. Mrs. Merry was the Julia Falkner, and
Moreton the finest Tangent we ever saw. We
shall next notice a great comedian.
Mr. John Bernard was the son of a lieutenant
in the English navy, and born at Portsmouth in
1756. His first applause was gained at the aca-
MR. BERNARD.
6
353
demy where he had been educated, and where, like
the Goshen youth already mentioned, he played
the biggest parts because he was the biggest boy.
John played Hamlet, he being then sixteen, and
about leaving school. "All went on very smooth-
ly," he says, "until the scene with the ghost, when
a bungling rascal, whose part for the night was
to sit above on a beam and pull up the three
baize table-cloths tacked together into a curtain,
and at the moment I pronounced the words, Alas,
poor ghost!' the roller, becoming disengaged, de-
scended with a swift thwack upon the royal Dane's
head, and prostrated him to the earth, amid an
uproar of laughter!" Bernard's father being at
sea, and the boy now idle, thought only of acting,
and determined to try his hand with a strolling
company that had put up their flag at the Black
Bull in Farnham. As this may serve for a picture
of such theatricals, we will extract the description
of Manager Jackson's establishment.
"He had engaged the largest room at the said
Black Bull, suspended a collection of tatters along
its middle for a curtain, erected a pair of paper
screens, right hand and left, for wings; arranged
four candles in front of said wings, to divide the
stage from the orchestra (the fiddlers' chairs being
the legitimate division of the orchestra from the
pit); and, with all the spare benches of the inn to
form boxes, and a hoop suspended from the ceiling
(perforated with a dozen nails to receive as many
VOL. I.
2 A
354
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
tallow candles) to suggest the idea of a chandelier;
he had constructed and embellished what he called
a theatre. The scenery consisted of two drops,'
-scenes which roll up-"the inside of a house
and the outside of a house." The first was a
kitchen, with all its implements; "by the simple
introduction of two chairs and a table, this was
constituted a gentleman's parlour; and, in the fur-
ther presence of a crimson-cushioned yellow-legged
elbow-chair, with a banner behind and a stool in
front, was elevated into a royal hall of audience.
The other drop (which I have termed outside of a
house) presented on its surface two houses peeping
in at the sides, a hill, a wood, a stream, a bridge,
and a distant plain."
Thus, the spectator might imagine himself in a
street, a wood, by a stream, &c. Some other boys
joined Bernard in filling Manager Jackson's thea-
tre; but their parents finding out what was going
forward, their mothers agreed to go in a body to
the spot and witness the scene; the consequence
was, that Jaffier and Pierre, and all the rest of the
conspirators, were made prisoners, and conducted
home by the good ladies, amid the shouts of the
clowns of the village.
Bernard's father being disappointed in getting
him on board a ship of war, articled him to an at-
torney. The boy jumped out of the window and
ran away. Being rejected at Bristol, he made his
debut at the village of Chew Magna, in the cha-
racter of Jaffier. Engaged, he was regularly in-
MR. BERNARD.
355
serted in the bills as Mr. Budd, a young gentle-
man only seventeen years of age. He received for
his first payment a share of eight shillings and
three tallow candles. After various strolling ad-
ventures and starvations, he met his mother at
Weymouth, and returned home with her, promis-
ing amendment. But notwithstanding every in-
ducement which duty to a good and indulgent
mother could present, the worse than thoughtless
boy again left his employment and his parent;
and, after wandering about in want, among those
who disgrace a profession by assuming its title
without possessing its requisites, he again return-
ed to his sorrowing mother. With the consent of
both his parents, the youth subsequently was de-
voted to the stage, a profession for which he had
talents of a high order, and in which, having ob-
tained the necessary skill, he became a distin-
guished artist.
Having married a prudent woman and good
actress, and found in Griffiths, the Norwich ma-
nager, a judicious friend, Bernard renounced the
faults and vices contracted during his low rambling
life, and by degrees became what we in America
have seen him, an excellent comic actor. In the
winter of 1777-8, Mr. and Mrs. Bernard made their
appearance on the Bath boards as Gratiano and
Portia; Henderson, the best actor the writer of
this work ever saw except Mrs. Siddons, played
Shylock. Henderson was about this time engaged
for Covent Garden, and remained the unrivalled
2 A 2
356
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
actor of London until 1786-7, dying in the flower
of life and fulness of fame, as a gentleman, a
scholar, and an actor.
In 1782, Mr. and Mrs. Bernard made an en-
66
66
gagement with Daly, the Irish manager,” and
played at Cork and Dublin. At Cork he quar-
relled with his manager; his wife fell sick; and his
circumstances were in a very sorry condition, when
John Kemble relieved him by a proffered loan in
the most friendly and delicate manner. This,"
says he," was a kindness I never forgot. John
Kemble was a reserved man, a peculiar man,
perhaps a proud man; but, to the last hour of my
life, I will maintain that he was an honourable man,
a faithful man, and a man of as much tenderness
as integrity."
Travelling from Cork to Limerick, and stopping
for the night at a village called Mallow, he and
his companions were invited to attend a theatrical
exhibition which he thus describes :-The con-
struction of the theatre did not importantly differ
from that of many I had played in in my early
days. It was the interior of a barn; the hayloft
being naturally adapted for the gallery; the boxes
formed by rough boards nailed to four uprights;
the stage being divided from the pit by a board
bored with holes as the sockets for so many candles
or foot-lights; the scenery was, secundem artem,
things of shreds and patches; and the green
curtain a piece of gray antiquity, that went up and
down, in momentary danger of dissolution.
66
MR. BERNARD.
66
357
Our amusement commenced the moment we
entered the house, in listening to a conversation
that was going on between the gallery and the
orchestra, the latter composed of a performer on
the violin and one on the big drum. "Mr. Patrick
Moriarty," shouted the combiner of horse-hair and
catgut, how are you, my jewel?" Aisy and
impudent, Teddy O'Hoone; how are you? How's
your sow?" "Mischievous and tender like all her
sex. What tune would it plase you to have, Mr.
Patrick Moriarty?" Mr. Patrick was indifferent,
and referred the matter to a committee of females.
In the mean time, Teddy began to tune up, at
which another of his "divine" companions above
assailed him: “Arra! Teddy O'Hoone! Teddy,
you divil”—“What do you say, Larry Kennedy?"
Tip us a tune on your fiddle-dee-de, and don't
stand there making the cratcher squake like a hog
in a holly-bush. Paddy Byrne" (to the drummer)
-"What do you say, Mr. Kennedy ?"-" Aint
you a jewel now to be sitting there at your aise,
when here's a whole cockloft full of jontlemen come
to hear you thump your big bit of cowhide on the
top of a butter tub."
66
This specimen of "wild Irish theatricals," with
the former description of manager Jackson's
display, will suffice for our readers. The actors in
both cases suited the scenery and the audience. A
refined audience will only tolerate a refined moral
exhibition, and such performers as are fitting to
amuse and instruct them. It is the audience that
358
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
gives the tone to every part of the theatre. Where
there is the best audience, there will be the best
actors, and the best plays, and the most attractive
decorations, music and scenery, and to such a
place even the vulgar will come for his own pleasure;
and, being restrained, will be eventually amended.
Bernard, in 1784, performed with the Bath com-
pany. Here he first met with Mr. Blanchard, after-
wards well known on the London stage, and
recently (1832) arrived in this country.
No person meets so many adventures or becomes
acquainted with so many characters as an actor
whose talents give him eclat. Among the many
recorded by Bernard are the late Sir Thomas
Lawrence and his father, who had been an actor,
and was in 1786 an innkeeper at Devizes*. Fond
of his original profession, he frequented the Bath
theatre, and brought with him his son Tom,
who was remarkable for good recitation as well as
early cleverness with the pencil. In his sixteenth
year, the future president of the Royal Academy
was a candidate for the stage, and was with dif-
ficulty persuaded to give up a profession so allur-
ing to a beautiful and talented youth. His father
was opposed to his wishes, and filial duty was re-
warded by a splendid life of honour, and an
immortal´ name as the best of English portrait-
painters.
* This circumstance is not mentioned by D. E. Williams, Esq., in
his Life of Lawrence but we rely upon Bernard's testimony.
359
MR. BERNARD.
Mr. Bernard's first attempt as an author was in
a farce called The Whimsical Ladies, which pro-
duced profit to the theatre and the writer.
In the winter of 1787, Mr. Bernard attained the
height of his wishes as an actor, by a successful
appearance and engagement at Covent Garden
theatre, his salary fixed at "ten, eleven, twelve,
and thirteen pounds." His engagement was for
the fops, fine gentlemen, and higher line of comedy;
but owing to Edwin's frequent indisposition from a
cause similar to that which destroyed Cooke,
Bernard was thrust into low comedy, and became
very excellent in that line of playing. Mrs.
Bernard not being satisfied at Covent Garden, we
find Bernard in 1791 at Plymouth, under the ma-
nagement of the father of Mr. Jefferson, late of the
New-York and Philadelphia companies.
Bernard had the direction of several minor the-
atres, and among others, that of Guernsey. At
this place he employed as a prompter a non-com-
missioned officer, quartered there, who is connected
indirectly with the drama of America. Archibald
McLaren was a native of the Highlands of Scot-
land, and had served as a private under Sir Wil-
liam Howe, in the American war of 1776. This
soldier cultivated a taste for poetry during the
hardships of war and the privations incident to his
ineligible situation. He wrote, in America, a farce
called The Coup de Main, which, on his return to
Scotland, was performed at Edinburgh in the year
drinka
<
1783.
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
360
After trying a round of provincial theatres, Mr.
Bernard returned to Covent Garden, and opened
in Lord Ogilby, which he played in a style that
rivalled the original Lord Ogilby of King. He pro-
duced that season a second farce, called The Poor
Sailor.
In the summer of 1797, Mr. Bernard engaged
with Mr. Wignell, after procuring a release from
Mr. Harris, and embarked for America on the 4th
of June, 1797, making his first appearance at the
Greenwich Street theatre, N. York, as Goldfinch,
in The Road to Ruin. We shall have occasion to
mention this gentleman frequently in the course of
this work, for, although the claim he makes of be-
ing one of the founders of the American stage is
totally unfounded, he was a support and an orna-
ment to it, and his memory is cherished as an
actor and a man. At this place we will briefly
state, that, on the company of Wignell and Rein-
agle removing to their winter-quarters in Phila-
delphia, Mr. Bernard was brought out in Ruttekin,
the tinker, in Robin Hood, and Young Wilding in
The Liar. He remained in the Philadelphia com-
pany until 1803, when Mr. Powell engaged him for
Boston, and brought him out in Humphrey Gub-
bins, in The Battle of Hexham.
In the winter of 1804, Mr. Bernard gained ad-
ditional fame by his representation of Lovegold in
The Miser, and in 1806, he became one of the
managers of the Boston theatre, and in the sum-
mer of that year went to England for recruits.
MR. WARREN.
361
Of Mr. William Warren we have ample mate-
rials for such brief notice as our limits will allow.
He was born in the year 1767, in the city of Bath.
His father, a respectable mechanic, gave him an
education intended to fit him for following in his
steps; but the boy, like many others we have
noticed, preferred idleness and pleasure to ap-
plication and labour, and, having been applauded
for boyish attempts at acting, was unfit for the
occupation of a cabinet-maker, which was that of
his father and was intended for him.
At the age of seventeen, Warren made his ap-
pearance as a player in the character of Young
Norval, with a company who were making tragedy
comical, and lowering comedy to farce, at Chip-
penham. His reception encouraged him to pro-
ceed in the career he had chosen. In this strolling
company, under the
under the management of one Biggs, he
played all the first parts in tragedy and comedy,
and of course gained some professional knowledge
though the school was bad. For this first line of
playing the young hero received less than four
shillings per week.
Leaving Manager Biggs, he joined the forces of
another stroller called "Tag Davis," who had a
company of a higher order; among them was
Riley, known as the author of an amusing book
called The Itinerant, and Bignell, afterwards in
America, but only known to the south. At the end
of the season, Warren, too poor to pay for a place
*
362
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
in the stage, walked home to the house of his in-
dulgent parents.
There appears to be no cure for the disease of
strolling, or, as De Foe has it in his Robinson Cru-
soe, "What is bred in the bone will never be out
of the flesh." Warren had become attached to
Davis, as well as to a rambling life, and again
joined him. Poverty was as much attached to that
company now as before, and Riley records their
situation at Lyme, utterly penniless, and without
food, which could only be procured by stratagem.
On this occasion he mentions Warren as ex-
claiming in mock heroics, "Was it for this I left
my father's shop!" and then adding from Dog-
berry, "Would he were here to write me down
an ass!"
Biggs, his first manager, having a company in
the neighbourhood of Davis's barn, Warren now
did double duty, starring it in both companies,
walking from Lyme to Bedminster and back again,
to serve his two masters, not having profit enough
from his "double toil and trouble" to pay for any
other" leathern convenience" than his shoes.
Warren's next engagement was with Manager
Jefferson, the father of the excellent comedian we
have mentioned as joining the old American Com-
pany at Boston, and coming with them to New-
York in 1796. From Jefferson's company he was
induced to return to his friend Biggs by the tempt-
ing offer of ten shillings per week, a little more
than two dollars. This enabled the rising hero to
MR. WARREN.
363
ride, on the top of the stage, to the place of desti-
nation. In Warren's rambles, he met two per-
formers afterwards well known in New-York and
Boston, Mrs. Hogg and Mr. Baker.
After several changes of place and manager,
Biggs, having been deserted by most of his com-
pany, followed Warren and another stroller of the
name of Woolley, and, being unable to persuade
them to return, arrested them both; and, carrying
them, guarded by a constable, before a magistrate,
swore they were journeymen tailors who had de-
serted from him, and left clothes unfinished which
they had engaged to complete. The magistrate
discharged the young men, advising them to re-
turn to their homes and parents. This advice was
not followed, and Tag Davis having a new opposi-
tion house built for him in Exeter, by a man who
was rich enough to indulge his desire to overthrow
the established dynasty, Tag invited Warren to join
his company, which he accordingly accepted.
To give the American reader an idea of the con-
tempt shown in England by people of every condi-
tion towards the members of strolling companies,
we will relate two anecdotes of Warren. Biggs,
who seems to have considered Warren essential to
his well-being, again followed him, and endea-
voured to prevail on him to rejoin his company;
but, not succeeding, changed his persuasive tone
to abuse, which he carried so far as to provoke
Warren to break his pipe over the manager's head.
For this assault on majesty, Biggs again took him,
364
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
with the aid of a constable, on charge of assault
and battery, and the justice hearing the accuser
state that the accused was a strolling player, was
about committing him to jail; but Warren retorted
the title of strolling manager on Biggs, and the
magistrate dismissed both with contempt and in-
jurious epithets from his august presence.
The second concerns the treatment of the whole
of Mr Jefferson's company. One Mr. Carey, a man
of fortune, on occasion of some family festival, ap-
plied to Jefferson, and engaged his company to
come to Tor Abbey, his place of residence, and
perform a play. Accordingly, they all proceeded
thither, not in carts or on foot, as most of them usu-
ally travelled, but, attended by their very respectable
manager, in coaches, post-chaises, and gigs. When
they arrived at Tor Abbey, they were shewn into
the servants' hall, where a table and dinner were
prepared for them.
Jefferson sent a remonstrance to Carey, and the
company prevailed on the manager to take a coach
and turn his back on the aristocrat, while they
performed a play for his emolument. They then
refused food in the inhospitable mansion, and Mr.
Carey, finding the actors so stomachful, made his
appearance and apologies, showed them into a more
dignified part of his house, and prevailed on them
to take food more nourishing than the air of of-
fended pride which they had assumed and were en-
deavouring to digest for the occasion. They ate
and drank, and played their play and farce for the
MR. WARREN.
365
amusement of the great man and his family, and
returned home content.
That most actors receive an education in the
school of folly, thoughtless dissipation, or positive
vice, which the degrading scenes belonging to the
life of a strolling player in England invariably fur-
nish, must be apparent to every one who reads the
books which have been published on the subject.
That so many come out of the furnace, if not puri-
fied, yet so far uninjured as to assume the rank of
respectable and honourable men, is truly wonderful.
If we look back upon the lives of most of those
performers who have come to America and have
challenged admiration as actors and respect as men,
we shall find that they have passed through, from
early youth to manhood, a succession of scenes
sufficient to destroy all sense of moral propriety.
To have passed through such scenes, with such
debased and debasing associates, and yet stand
erect in society, is proof of uncommon merit; that
many sink never to rise is plain.
This evil does not exist in America to any great
extent, and may be prevented altogether. We see
those who have submitted to the disgrace of a
stroller's life in England take a higher stand in
this country, and maintain it. They feel that they
are not degraded by the presence of a privileged
order; and if the mere moneyed aristocrat assumes
airs of superiority, they feel authorized to resist
the assumption. Having thrown off the stigma
which the laws of their own country had affixed to
:
366
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
them, they feel bound to assume, with the more
elevated character, a more elevated deportment
and conduct.
The frequent recurrence of poverty, insult, and
disgrace, at length, as the novelty and enticements
of licentious liberty began to lose their charms,
brought Warren to reflect upon the folly of his
conduct. "He had experienced," says Carpenter,
"poverty in its most intolerable shape, hunger."
He had found that innocence was not a protection
to the player, if accused of a crime, for the magis-
trates considered him as a vagabond. "Indeed,"
he continues, “what could he hope, seeing as he
did so much penury around him, and at the same
time so much ignorance and incapacity in many of
his associates." While thus ruminating on his sad
condition, he received a letter from his father, in-
viting him home; and, hoping to qualify himself
for and obtain a higher post in the profession he
had chosen, he returned to the paternal roof.
After a few weeks at home, through the influence
of Incledon, Blanchard, and other London actors,
with whom he became acquainted, he got a situa-
tion in a respectacle provincial theatre, and ob-
tained the friendship of Mr. Dowton. He now
strove to make himself truly an artist, and by
industry and good conduct acquired skill and im-
portance in his profession.
Warren was a member of the Salisbury theatrical
corps in 1787, when a prosecution was instituted
through malice against the proprietor, and he was
MR. WARREN.
367
cast on the old vagrant act. This caused the re-
peal of the statute, and a protecting act was passed,
by which justices of peace were enjoined to license
and protect any manager who chose to establish a
theatre. From this time the now prudent actor
increased in reputation and emoluments. In 1788,
he was engaged by Tate Wilkinson, well known
by all who have attended to the English theatre;
and, Mrs. Siddons being engaged to perform at
York, Mr. Warren had the advantage of playing
several characters with that first of tragedians.
His habits of industry and attention to the busi-
ness of the scene gained him the approbation of
this lady, who in her provincial tours was annoyed
very generally by the absence of those virtues.
In this situation, a favoured performer in a
respectable company, directed by a man of talents,
Mr. Wignell, in 1796, found the subject of this no-
tice, and made him offers which engaged him for
America. Warren was then married, and, as the
highest salary in the company was a guinea and a
half a week, the salaries given by American mana-
gers must have appeared tempting. Mr. Warren
was engaged for Philadelphia, and, repairing to
London, embarked at Gravesend, whence dropping
down to the Downs, the vessel took in Mr. and
Mrs. Merry and Mr. Cooper, and reached New-
York in 21 days. Mr. Warren's first characters
in Philadelphia were Friar Lawrence in Romeo and
Juliet, and Bundle in The Waterman.
368
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
Thus Mr. Warren, after passing through scenes
in real life which, as we have seen, seem sufficient
to destroy every good habit, if not principle, in
man, was landed on a shore where he was safe
from such contact; for, in the company of such
of such per-
formers as composed the company of Philadelphia
for many years, the ill habits acquired in English
strolling companies would be discouraged, and, if
possible, eradicated. In Mr. Warren's case we
have reason to believe that what might have been
wrong had been previously rectified, and we only
remember him as a pleasant companion and an
upright man.
The characters he sustained with
the highest reputation in the drama, were Falstaff,
Sir Peter Teazle, Old Norval, Brabantio, Sir An-
thony Absolute, and the like, in tragedy and
comedy.
It will be seen by referring to the list of names
at the end of the preceding Chapter, that Mr. and
Mrs. Whitlock, the Darleys, father and son, Chal-
mers, Miss Broadhurst, and Mr. Bates, are not on
the list; having already parted from their com-
panions of 1794. Their successors, already noticed,
were Mr. Cooper, Mrs. Merry, Mr. Warren, Mr.
Bernard, Mr. and Mrs. Lestrange; to these are to
be added Messrs. Fox, Hardinge, and Byrne, with
Mesdames Hardinge and Byrne.
Mr. Fox, originally an engraver, was yet a youth,
and added to talents as an actor a voice for, and
and some knowledge of, music.
MR. HOLLAND.
369
Mr. Hardinge was the Irishman of the com-
pany, and Mrs. Hardinge a second lady for comedy
or tragedy.
Mr. and Mrs. Byrne were dancers; he a ballet-
master, and both had been first in their line at
Covent Garden theatre. We remember him as
Master Byrne, 1786.
In addition to Milbourne, as his scene-painter,
Mr. Wignell engaged the services of Mr. John
Joseph Holland, whom he found at the Opera-
house, London, where he had been educated for
his profession. Mr. Holland was still a young
man, although married, and with his wife arrived
in 1796 at New-York. Holland has often laughed
at his profound ignorance of the country to which
he was emigrating, an ignorance which is per-
petuated as far as possible to this day by the
efforts of the government, or at least those writers
who have the sanction of the government and the
confidence of the people. This ignorance is fast
passing away, but at the time Holland came to New-
York, 1796, not having an opportunity to consult
Wignell on the subject, he brought out his house-
hold and kitchen furniture with him, fully per-
suaded that such articles could not be procured
(at least of equally good quality) in the savage
country he was embarking for. The ship arrived
in the evening, and was anchored in the East
river, and Holland went on shore to reconnoitre—
all was astonishment and enchantment-he was
VOL. I.
2 B
370
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
among white men who spoke English, not but that
he had been told this before, but we never realize
the objects we are to meet abroad from mere de-
scription or information, until travelling has given
us a second education, and no Englishman ever
expects to find any thing good out of his own
blessed isle. The young painter walked up to
Wall Street, by the light of lamps and on good
flag-stone pavement; he saw tall brick houses ;
he saw pillars, pilasters, and porticoes; he arrived
in Broadway, and was still more astonished; he
got as far as St. Paul's, but when he saw the beau-
tiful Roman Ionic columns of that chapel, he could
go no further, but hastened back to congratulate
his wife that they were in a civilized land, and to
recount the wonders he had seen. Holland's feel-
ings were such as a native of our seaboard cities
feels when, travelling into the country of the Iro-
quois, he finds, instead of forests, the cities of Utica
and Rochester.
This accomplished architect had prepared the
house, which had been previously occupied as a
circus, for the reception of the best company of
performers that have ever been seen in America.
The Greenwich Street circus was fitted up and
decorated as an elegant summer theatre. The
John Street house, in its decay, was occupied as
we have seen by Solee, and an ill-assorted, ill-
directed company; many of them excellent actors.
The Park theatre was now being prepared for the
old American Company.
PERFORMANCES IN NEW YORK.
371
On the 18th of August, 1797, "the principal
performers of the Boston and Charleston theatres"
opened in John Street with The Wonder and
Spoiled Child; and on the 21st, played The Moun-
taineers and Spoiled Child.
The same evening, the 21st, the Greenwich
Street theatre opened with Venice Preserved, Mrs.
Merry, Mr. Cooper, and Mr. Moreton, playing the
principal characters.
The two houses went on striving against each
other, and each injuring the other, and neither
company supported by the receipt of expenses. A
brief notice of some of the plays for a short time
will convey the best image of the mimic world at
this period at New-York.
August 30th, John Street, Isabella, by Mrs.
Whitlock. Greenwich Street, Child of Nature-
Amanthis, Mrs. Merry; Critic-Puff, Mr. Bernard.
September 1st, John Street, School for Scandal.
Greenwich Street the same. John Street was sick
and put off; and the next day announced, "that
the celebrated tragedy of Bunker's Hill was in pre
paration, and would soon be performed."
Accordingly, Bunker's Hill was brought out,
with all the smoke, noise, and nonsense, belong-
ing to Mr. John Burk's muse; and Greenwich
Street had nothing to oppose but Shakspeare's
and Mrs. Merry's Juliet; the Romeo by Moreton,
the Mercutio by Bernard, and every part sup-
ported by the names we have above recorded. But
2 B2
372
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
what were these to "a scuffle nicely managed,"
the "English falling back," and "two or three
Englishmen rolling down the hill, a meeting-house
on fire, with flames and smoke issuing from it, the
smoke and confusion producing an effect scarce
credible," as described in the author's letter given
above?
Wignell, finding that fire and smoke pleased the
public, determined to give them a volcano. Mor-
ton's Columbus was got up with all the taste, splen-
dour, and skill of such a manager, such a company,
and such a scene-painter as Holland, combined.
Wignell spoke the prologue, Cooper played Co-
lumbus, Mrs. Merry Cora, Mr. Moreton Alonzo.
And, notwithstanding that the John Street hill
was turned into a volcano, and Columbus adver-
tised for the same night, September 11th, 1797,
the combined corps of Boston and Charleston were
obliged to retreat soon after, and not with flying
colours.
Wignell closed his temporary establishment with
loss, but credit; and drew off his forces to their
winter-quarters.
CHAPTER XVI.
Critics Critiques - Plays, Players, and Playwrights-Remarks of
John Wells, Esq. on altering the titles of English Plays and passing
them for American — A Hint to English Dramatists on the same
Subject.
In the year 1796, that memorable year in the
theatrical history of the New World which gave
to New-York a band of distinguished actors, at
the head of whom stood Mr. and Mrs. Johnson
and Mr. Jefferson; and to Philadelphia, Mrs.
Merry, and Messrs. Cooper and Warren; a com-
pany of critics was organized, who may not un-
aptly be characterized as sharp-shooters.
These gentlemen were regular frequenters of
the New-York theatre, enjoyed its productions as
men of education and lovers of literature, and
wished to correct the abuses existing in the cos-
tume, demeanour, and general conduct, of the
actors on the stage.
Messrs. John Wells, Elias Hicks, Samuel Jones,
William Cutting, Peter Irving, and Charles Adams,
formed themselves into a species of dramatic cen-
sorship, and by turns put down their remarks on
the play of the evening, meeting next evening to
criticise the critique, and give it passport to the
press. The last named of these gentlemen was
374
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
only distinguished as being the son and brother of
presidents of the United States; others are known
as distinguished by their own talents and attain-
ments. They signed with the initials of their
names, the last letter being the actual writer.
Finding that these initials led to the detection of
the offenders against the liberty of murdering
plays at will, they inserted other letters to mislead,
but still continued the last as the initial of the
writer. The letter D is frequently inserted, al-
though no person whose name begins with that
letter belonged to or wrote for the club; the
rogues intended to throw some of the credit on the
writer of this work. We will review these effusions
of the box critics of that day—for the pit had
even then ceased to be the centre from which
public opinion was to be enlightened on subjects
of theatrical taste.
Farquhar's Inconstant, injudiciously revived by
Hodgkinson, they condemn; and do not approve
Cumberland's Wheel of Fortune, a play which,
with Cooper's Penruddock, and other alterations
of the cast, became a favourite. They speak
respectfully of Mr. Hodgkinson's Penruddock, and
of Mrs. Johnson's Emily Tempest-of Mr. Jeffer-
son's Daw they say it had "confirmed the favour-
able impression he had made." Of Prigmore, who
played Tempest, they say, "We have desisted
from remarking on our old acquaintance, Prig-
more, in the hope he might (at least by accident)
afford us something to applaud. But that same
CRITICISM ON PLAYS AND PLAYERS.
375
uniformity of acting, which has ever characterized
him, still continues, and we can find in him no
other difference than may be found in a 'cocked up
hat' and a 'hat cocked up."" They speak of attempts
behind the scenes to get up applause, by beginning
to knock or clap "whenever the manager has de-
livered any thing extremely witty or sentimental.
Whether it is by direction of him whose sole am-
bition is the lust of praise,' or proceeds from the
officiousness of some candidate for managerial
favour, we shall not pretend to determine.'
6
Mr. King and Mr. Cleveland, in Woodville and
Harry, they censure altogether.
The farce of The Flitch of Bacon they condemn in
toto. Of The Agreeable Surprise they speak in
terms of high praise, and especially Hodgkinson's
Lingo-but they justly censure him for casting the
part of Widow Cheshire to a man of the name of
Lee-a heavy, stupid, vulgar fellow, with no requi-
site for the stage but a bass voice and some know-
ledge of music. So was the Widow Cheshire
sonated on the 9th of March, 1796.
per-
O'Keefe's Young Quaker calls forth the approba-
tion of our sharp-shooters, and they praise Mr.
Hallam's Clod, and Mrs. Hallam's pretty Dinah
Primrose. Of No Song No Supper the approba-
tion is full, particularly of Hodgkinson's matchless
Robin. Jefferson falls under the lash as Endless,
but, for once, Prigmore is praised, and he deserved
it, in Crop. He played the part and sung the songs
in perfection. Miss Broadhurst, a little, timid,
376
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
gentle creature, is always a favourite with these
Mohawks.
It appears by the remarks of this band of
scalpers and tomahawkers on The School for Scan-
dal, that they truly estimated its beauties and im-
moralities, and that they had seen the play played
in times past. They remark: Though Mrs. Hal-
lam in Lady Teazle, and Mr. Hallam in Sir Peter,
equalled our expectations, we could not forget
that Mr. and Mrs. Henry formerly appeared in
those characters: we could not but remember
that such things were, and were most precious to
us. They praise Dibdin's Quaker, but justly re-
mark, that play-house representations of Quakers
are unnatural, and generally disgusting.
66
It appears by Critique No. 8, that the body of
critics had been called "liar and assassin," but they
say " they are none"-and go on as usual. They
talk of Hodgkinsons "bawling," and of Poor Vul-
can, that it is "insipid, tasteless, and unentertain-
ing"-praising the "modest diffidence" of Miss
Broadhurst in all she does.
In remarking on the comedy of Know Your Own
Mind, and its performance, they ask "Why was
not the part of Miss Neville given to Mrs. Johnson,
or Mrs. Hallam?" [It was played by Mrs. Cleve-
land.] "Where was Mr. Hallam when the part of
Captain Bygrove was cast upon Mr. Munto, who,
whenever he appears "in uniform,' perpetually
reminds us of a servant in livery." Madame
Gardie, the fascinating dancer and pantomime
CRITICISM ON PLAYS AND PLAYERS.
377
actress, whose story ended so fatally in tragedy,
played in this comedy a speaking part, Madame
Larouge, and was "perfectly natural." They
laugh at the manager's apology for the non-appear-
ance of a performer, who he said could not appear
but "at the risk of her life and future health.”
Cumberland's Jew was performed, March 21st,
1796, and Hodgkinson played Sheva with that
versatile excellence which rendered him so re-
markable, and after it, his Walter, in The Children
in the Wood, showed even superior powers. Miss
Harding and Master Stockwell were the children;
the first, Mr. Hodgkinson's ward, a pretty, inno-
cent, black-eyed girl, looking as if she might be
destined to a life of purity and happiness. The
comedy is deservedly praised by the critics as
abounding in "the purest morality, and the most
instructive lessons of disinterested virtue."
The principal thing to be noted in the critique
on the excellent comedy of The Clandestine Mar-
riage, is the just reprehension of the manager for
putting a poor deformed idiot, of the name of Ro-
berts, into the fine part of Canton. Those who
remember Baddely and Wewitzer, in London, and
Darley and Harwood, in New-York, will think of
the murder of poor Canton in the hands of one
thus described by the Mohawks, one "whose dress
and figure reminds us of the ponies in the races at
the circus." They lament that they could not ex-
press at the time their disapprobation of the ma-
378
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
nager, without hurting the feelings of the actor.
Gentle savages!
In their notice of Jane Shore, the savages are
really gentle. They are more-they are compli-
mentary. The ladies, however, have the greater
share in their praise, and we know they deserved
it. Mrs. Melmoth's Alicia, and Mrs. Johnson's
penitent Jane, were, the first full of fiery passion,
the second of tender pathos. Mr. Hallam had the
merit of being respectable in Hastings, at the same
time that he was, as Mercutio, in high, and Jabel,
Mungo, Clod, and many other low comedy parts,
far above mediocrity.
The Belle's Stratagem, Mountaineers, Irish
Widow, Florizel and Perdita, Alexander the
Great, Maid of the Mill, &c., pass under review,
and are treated fairly, and the performers quite as
gently as heretofore. Of The Archers we have
spoken elsewhere-we may observe here, that the
critics treat it with as much favour as it deserves.
They take the occasion to recommend a national
drama, and an independence in literature, as well
as politics. In a second critique on the piece,
they express themselves more fully in its favour,
both in the serious and comic parts.
As the benefits came on, the critiques became
more complimentary and less discriminating.
Charlotte and Werter, by Reynolds, was got up,
but received very coldly; and the critics censured
both the play and the performance of it.
THE CRITICS CALLED TO ACCOUNT.
379
On the 20th of May, the band of censors were
called to an account for all their missayings and
misdoings, by Verax-who tells them they are
ignorant, for they have not travelled-they are
young-they are malicious-and that they war
upon the actors because they are emigrants. The
critics made no answer to this attack on them-
probably they thought it unanswerable. This
curious performance was known to come from Mr.
Hodgkinson.
As the young men took no notice of Verax, and
continued to give good advice to the actors, par-
ticularly Mr. William King, he challenged them to
mortal combat, severally and individually-but,
strange to say, they took no more notice of Mr.
King than they had done of his friend and brother
Verax.
There is something so very characteristic in
Hodgkinson's advertisement, notifying his ap-
proaching benefit, that we will insert it.
"Mr. Hodgkinson respectfully acquaints the
public in general, that his benefit will be on Mon-
day, May 30, when will be presented the comedy
of Much ado about Nothing, written by Shak-
speare.
The same Mr. Prigmore, so utterly worthless as
a man and an actor, the hero of the tale of the
widow and the breeches, furnishes us occasion to
call from their obscure resting-place some just re-
marks in a style of elegance, which alone could
entitle them to a place in this history of our dra-
380
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
matic literature; but when we know that they are
from the pen of John Wells, they receive additional
value.
Prigmore, being entitled to a benefit, and having
certain claims upon a certain class of theatrical
visiters, whose favour he secured, by what players
call mumming, contrived to attract a full house
composed of patrons who could see his merits. A
full house on a benefit night is considered by an
actor as a mark of the estimation he or she is held
in by the public. There is nothing more fallacious.
To produce this evidence of public favour, and the
dollars attendant on it, every art is resorted to, and
a benefit-bill is generally a gull-trap. We have
recorded elsewhere the Melocosmeotis of Chalmers,
who was no favourite, and its success, and might
mention many other instances. On this occasion,
May 16th, 1796, Prigmore produced what was
called a new play, The School for Citizens, and
with "Jonathan's description of New-York," "Auld
Robin Grey," "Slaves in Algiers," &c. &c. suc-
ceeded in obtaining his object.
The play is our object, particularly as it called
into exertion the pen of a distinguished friend, a
portion of whose remarks we extract. The School
for Citizens, says he, "is an altered comedy from
an English one of a different name, and an attempt
made to adapt the language and incidents to this
country. The design, unhappy in its conception,
is rendered still more so in the execution, as it robs
the original piece of much of its consistency, and
ON LITERARY PLAGIARISM.
381
leaves us one marked with many irregularities,
though not the irregularities of genius.
The practice of borrowing an original work
from another nation, and accommodating it to
our own, is a species of plagiarism, which involves
the reputation of a country in which it is per-
mitted. Our infancy as a people, the equal though
moderate distribution of property, and the conse-
quent necessity for personal industry, have hitherto,
with us, suppressed the exercise of talents to any
extensive degree in the dramatic line. Early occu-
pied with procuring the means of subsistence,
and the cares of providing for a family, the mind,
with us, is naturally directed to the cultivation of
that knowledge which most effectually answers
the common purposes of life: hence the learning
of America is rather of the useful than splendid
kind, rather calculated to form the massy Doric
than the Corinthian capitals of science. As our
literary pursuits, therefore, are of the robust kind,
and we are obliged to resort to the foreign source
for the more delicate productions of genius, which
serve to amuse our leisure hours, and soften for a
time the cares of real life, we cannot too severely
reprehend the mean and unmanly spirit which
would supply, by a pitiful alteration of names, to
the people of America, those sentiments of national
compliments which were originally devoted to the
service of another. It is an appropriation too dis-
graceful ever to become an acceptable offering to
a sensible people."
382
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
The American dramatist, who steals the whole
or part of an English play, cannot escape detec-
tion, and can only, like Mr. Prigmore, hope for a
harvest from the benefit nights. English drama-
tists have for ages translated from the Continental
languages, and given no credit to the original
authors. At the time Kotzebue brought the
German school into fashion, the playwrights em-
ployed to measure out dialogue and pantomime
by the yard for the London theatres were super-
seded by the honest, homely translators of German
plays, the Thomsons and Plumtres. They took
the alarm, and all joined in crying down the
German drama; the hired journalists followed in
the hue and cry, and John Bull was convinced
that nothing could be so absurd as the exhibitions
he had been weeping over, or had received with
shouts of applause and peals of laughter. This
done, the cunning manufacturers for the theatres
had the poor Germans at their mercy; and for
years whole scenes and whole plots were given
to admiring audiences as English every inch, and
filled with true British patriotism, although they
were stolen from those very calumniated Germans
whom the plagiarists had decried by sound of
trumpet.
At an after-period appeared some playful stric-
tures upon plays, managers, actors, and audiences,
under the names of Jonathan Oldstyle and Andrew
Quoz, which we shall hereafter quote largely from.
They are from the pen of Washington Irving, and
STRICTURES BY WASHINGTON IRVING.
383
first published in the Morning Chronicle, then
edited by his brother, Doctor Peter Irving, a
gentleman of the first talents, and of feelings as
purely honourable as ever resided in the breast
of man.
CHAPTER XVII.
Agreement between John Hodgkinson and William Dunlap, on the
one part, and the Committee empowered by the Proprietors of the
Park Theatre, on the other-Re-appearance of Mrs. Hallam on the
Stage, June, 1797-Agreement with the Proprietors of the Hay-
market Theatre, Boston-Hodgkinson and Company in Boston,
July, 1797.
We will continue the history of the old American
or New-York Company, to the conclusion of the
season of 1796-7. and of the formation of a new
company for the Park theatre.
On the 25th of May, 1797, after various tedious
preliminary negociations, which had iddenae
expressed wish that William Dunlap and John
Hodgkinson should become joint lessees of the New
or Park theatre, and make such arrangement with
Lewis Hallam as should be satisfactory, a meeting
took place between William Henderson, the acting
agent for the committee of proprietors, and Messrs.
Dunlap and Hodgkinson, and the following terms
were agreed upon for three years and a half, or
four playing seasons, to commence the ensuing
autumn, as soon as the house could be made ready
for exhibitions. The lessees agreed to pay on the
gross receipts of the house nightly, thus: on any
sum from 450 to 500 dollars, 5 per cent.; from
LEASE OF THE PARK THEATRE.
385
5 to 600 dollars, 10 per cent.; from 6 to 700 dol-
lars, 12 per cent.; from 7 to 800 dollars, 15 per
cent.; from 8 to 1200 dollars and upwards, 20 per
per cent. On benefit nights the rent was to be 10
per cent. on the receipt. Thus for a receipt under
450 dollars no house-rent was to be paid; but the
night which gave a receipt of 1200 dollars paid
240 dollars rent. The managers were to proceed
to the organization of the company, and the pro-
prietors to the finishing that part of the building
necessary to the commencement of theatrical per-
formances, and such scenery and machinery as
might be sufficient to begin with.
By the agreement of the managers, they were
jointly to direct the theatre. The actor was to
receive, as such, 20 dollars a week, 5 dollars a
week for his wardrobe, and 30 dollars a week for
superintending the stage, rehearsals, &c., making
55 dollars per week. His partner was to have, as
treasurer and joint director, 24 dollars per week.
The managers offered to Lewis Hallam to be-
come purchasers of his theatrical property, and,
in addition, to give him one-fourth of any profits
they might make during the time of their lease of
the new theatre.
Early in June, a formal meeting took place be-
tween the managers attended by Dr. E. H. Smith,
and Mr. Hallam attended by Philip Brasher, Esq.,
in which Mr. Hallam agreed to sell his share in
wardrobe, &c., and to accept the offer of one-fourth
of the profits of the new theatre, and the mana-
2 c
VOL. I.
386
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
gers agreed to engage him and his wife as actors
in the company at the first salaries.
Mrs. Hallam reappeared on the John Street
stage, playing Lady Teazle, and spoke the follow-
ing prologue, written by Mr. Milne. It was print-
ed in the papers of the day, and the words marked
as here in italics.
These flattering plaudits cannot fail to raise
A wish to merit such transcendent praise;
It can but be a wish, for Ah!-my heart
Knows merit could not claim a thousandth part :
But like the lavish hand of Heaven, you
Give largely e'en though nothing should be due.
O'ercome with joy, my anxious throbbing heart,
Disdaining all the little tricks of art,
Conceals those feelings in a greatful breast
Which may be felt, but cannot be express'd.
Time has now swept ten rolling years away,
Since flattering plaudits graced my first essay*;
Young, giddy, rash, ambitious, and untaught,
You still caress'd, excusing many a fault;
With friendly hand safe led me through the way
Where lurking error watches to betray:
And shall I such advantages forego
With my consent? I frankly answer, No:
I may through inadvertency have stray'd,
But who by folly never was betray'd?
If e'er my judgment played the foolish part,
I acted not in concert with my heart.
I boldly can defy the world to say
From my first entrée to the present day,
Whate'er my errors, numerous or few,
I never wanted gratitude to you.
On your indulgence still I'll rest my cause;
Will you support me with your kind applause ?
You verify the truth of Pope's fine line-
"To err is human; to forgive, divine."
* She made her first appearance in the after-piece of The Guardian,
Hallam playing the guardian, she the ward.
BOSTON HAYMARKET THEATRE.
387
Thus, literally, was this extraordinary per-
formance spoken and published at the time.
J. B. Williamson, the manager of the Boston
Federal Street theatre, about this time, June,
1797, broke up his company, and part of them
joined Harper's company at Providence. Hodg-
kinson left New-York for Boston, to pass through
Newport, and to employ a portion of the New-
York company there, and make arrangements for
opening the Haymarket.
Mr. Williamson went to Charleston, S. C. and
was for a time the principal performer there, and
his wife a great favourite in the romps and other
lively characters of comedy. She died at Charles-
ton on the 31st of October, 1799.
On the 18th of June, three of the proprietors of
the Boston Haymarket theatre, viz. Messrs. Os-
borne, Gardner, and Blake, arrived in New-York.
They wished to see Hodgkinson, to make an agree-
ment with him for their property. "He might
have it on his own terms." The next day Hodg-
kinson returned from Boston, having engaged the
Haymarket for four years for himself and partner.
This theatre was a large wooden building, which
had been erected from a spirit of opposition, part-.
ly political, and was owned by the democrats or
anti-federalists. It was opposite to the southern
corner of the Mall or Common.
The articles of agreement were, that, for the use
of said house for four seasons, consisting of sixty
playing nights, commencing in June or July, and
2c2
388
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
terminating in October or November, and for the
use of all scenery, wardrobe, &c. belonging to the
theatre, the managers shall pay 10 per cent. on
the gross receipts; the house not to be used as a
theatre during this period, except by consent of
said managers; and, after the present year, if the
managers choose, they may pay fifty dollars per
night, in lieu of the ten per cent.
This agree-
ment was signed by John Winthrop, Caleb Stim-
son, Joseph Blake, jun., and George Blake. This
was an additional step in the road to ruin.
On the 24th of June, the articles of agreement
between the managers of the old American Com-
pany, and Carlisle Pollock, Jacob Morton, Edward
Livingston, and William Henderson, on behalf of
the proprietors of the new theatre, were formally
agreed to on the plan above stated. The seasons
to be from the first of October to the tenth of June,
and at least one hundred nights of playing, "un-
less some public calamity prevents it."
Hodgkinson went on with the company, and
opened the theatre in Hartford on the 3rd of July;
sixty-seven dollars in the house-another step on
the downhill road. After a few nights' playing, the
house was closed, and the deficiencies remitted
from New-York. The proprietors of the Hartford
theatre were discontented, and Hodgkinson, to
satisfy them, promised to send on a company of
comedians, when he arrived in Boston. In conse-
quence of this promise, he entered into engage-
ments with Solee, forwarding him to Hartford and
HODGKINSON'S COMPANY.
389
afterwards to New-York, where he opened the
John Street theatre in opposition to Wignell's
Greenwich Street house.
On the 24th of July, 1797, Hodgkinson opened
the Haymarket theatre, Boston, with The Grecian
Daughter and Romp. His receipts were 220 dol-
lars. He engaged Mr. and Mrs. C. Powell, at 32
dollars per week; Mr. and Mrs. S. Powell, and
Miss Harrison, at 42 dollars; Mr. and Mrs. Simp-
son, and two Miss Westrays, at 50 dollars; and
Mrs. Peck, at 12 dollars; in addition to his com-
pany, already too large for the time.
Collins and Crosby having quarrelled, were pre-
paring for the settlement which honour required ;
but the magistracy interfered, and the heroes, after
lying in jail some hours, were examined. Sir Rich-
ard was dismissed and Collins remanded to prison,
but afterwards liberated, on condition of removing
his honour out of the commonwealth. This man's
real name was Phipps.
Mr. and Mrs. S. Powell were afterwards at
New-York, valuable members of the company,
and will be hereafter mentioned. The Miss Wes-
trays proved distinguished ornaments to the drama,
in every point of view. The history of the American
theatre would be deficient if many pages were not
devoted to Mrs. Wood, (then Miss Westray), and
Mrs. Darley, (Miss E. Westray). Their mother,
Mrs. Simpson, was long on the New-York theatre,
playing the line of old women.
390
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
..
Mr. Hodgkinson had now increased his expenses
in Boston to upwards of 1100 dollars per week, and
played on his second night (Mrs. Johnson's first
appearance that season) to 144 dollars, which, at
three nights the week, at that rate, amounted to
432 dollars for the week's receipts. To oppose
Wignell, he had engaged Solee to go to New-York
and Philadelphia, with Mr. and Mrs. Barrett, Mr.
and Mrs. Jones, Mr. and Mrs. Williamson, Mr.
and Mrs. Cleveland, Mr. and Mrs. Bernard, (who
wisely joined Wignell) Mr. and Mrs. Hughes, and
Mr. and Mrs. Whitlock. This company, many of
them good performers, failed in John Street, New-
York, as we have seen, and Hodgkinson's letters
induced his partner to support Solee by his credit,
ultimately to great loss.
Hodgkinson's next managerial step was to en-
gage Chalmers at 25 dollars, and Williamson, a
singer, at 18, and despatch them with Messrs.
Cleveland, S. Powell, Dickinson, Kenny, Seymour,
M'Knight, and Simpson-and Mesdames S. Powell,
Cleveland, Simpson, Seymour, with Misses Wes-
tray, and E. Westray, to Hartford, paying all ex-
penses and guaranteeing their salaries. Mr. Hodg-
kinson's partner sent on money and advice; the
one was taken, the other rejected.
CHAPTER XVIII.
The Orchestra-The Swiss Catholic Priest-The Inquisition-The
Victim's Tale-The Ex-noble-Young, an English musician, ex-
ecuted for murder-M. Pellesier-Monsieur and Madame Gardie,
their Story and Tragical Death.
We have noticed the improvements made by Mr.
Hodgkinson in the orchestra at New-York, im-
provements rendered necessary by the excellence
of this branch of theatrical arrangement in the
rival company of Philadelphia. Instead of the "one
Mr. Pelham," and his harpsichord, or the single
fiddle of Mr. Hewlett, performers of great skill
filled the bands of the two rival cities. In New-
York, the musicians were principally French, most
of them gentlemen who had seen better days, some
driven from Paris by the revolution, some of them
nobles, some officers in the army of the king, others
who had sought refuge from the devastation of St.
Domingo.
The stories of these men would fill volumes. We
will select one. The subject of it was not French,
and the cause of his taking refuge in America was
not revolutionary. The singularity of his appear-
ance and behaviour attracted the notice of the
manager, and on inquiry he was stated to have
been a priest, and to be versed in languages,
ancient and modern. The manager was studying
392
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
German, and busied in translating the popular
plays of the day; and, as the musician's native
tongue was German, he being a native of a German
Canton of Switzerland, and being master of Eng-
lish as well as most other modern tongues, he
became very acceptable as a companion, and was
soon employed as a teacher in the manager's
family.
He was a man of herculean mould, past the
meridian of life, heavy in his movements unless
excited, and then both his person and face became
suddenly animated from listlessness to wildness.
His large blue eyes, generally mild, were often
suffused with tears, but, when certain subjects
were touched upon, glared madly, while his teeth
were set convulsively. The manager had a retreat
at Perth Amboy, and, when released from the cares
of the theatre, retired thither with his family, of
which the musician made an interesting and ac-
ceptable member. He spoke of his having been
a priest. He talked of his having experienced the
horrors of the Inquisition in Madrid.
There are few subjects which take so decided a
hold on the imagination as tales of the Inquisition.
The mystery involving its enormous power, the
darkness surrounding its black officials, and the
silence attendant upon their movements, the suffer-
ings in the solitary cells, the tortures inflicted at
its tribunals, the manifold miseries attendant upon
its victims living, and the awful horrors of death
at the auto da fé, all combine to form one hideous,
1
A TALE OF THE INQUISITION.
393
indistinct, gigantic image at which the soul sickens.
There are few but have had an insatiable desire to
read anything relative to this gloomy, and terrify-
ing, and mysterious, power. The triumphs of the
auto dafé are plain, full, and apparent-but imagi-
nation retires from these midday horrors, where
power, wealth, beauty, regal magnificence, and the
emblems and ministers of the religion of mercy and
love, exult over and feast upon the tortures of their
fellow-creatures, to the blacker and more secret
horrors of the dark dungeons, solitary cells, sub-
terranean galleries, and midnight tribunals, of the
impenetrable prison-house-impenetrable to all but
its fiend-like ministers, and the predoomed wretches
who have fallen within their iron grasp.
Such were the feelings of the man who found
himself the host of one who had been a tenant of
those dungeons, and could unfold their mysteries;
and who hinted that he had experienced the power of
this infernal institution in sufferings worse than
death. When he appeared lost and abstracted in
thought, or sought solitude, or laughed bitterly,
or when, at the relation of some instance of virtue
in his presence, his eyes became suffused with
tears, and he was unable to restrain his morbid
•
sensibility-the image of that power which had
broken down such a frame and such a mind imme-
diately presented itself.
One day, as he accompanied his friend in a ramble
over the fields of the neighbourhood, and conversed
of European affairs and manners, the abuses which
394
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
had crept into the church, as we Protestants
believe, occupied their attention, and he descanted
with eloquent bitterness on the vices and corrup-
tion of the popish clergy in Europe.
66
Why, you have told me that you yourself are
one of the priesthood."
66
Yes," he replied, "accursed be the hour that
enrolled me on the list of those who vow to re-
nounce nature, and bid defiance to the first com-
mand of God! Accursed be the moment when the
folly of my mother devoted me to hypocrisy, guilt,
and misery! Yes, in my mother's womb I was
devoted a sacrifice on the altar. Such is supersti-
tion! A mother, the tenderest of all characters, to
make, as she thinks, her peace with Heaven, offers
up her unborn child as a victim, to be trained from
the cradle in ceremonies and observations, to be
bound in manhood by vows to contravene the laws
of nature, to be dragged, for his obedience to
the commands of his Creator, from the air and
light of heaven to the dungeons and tortures of
the hellish Inquisition!" He could speak no more.
His eyes, which had glared furiously while he spoke,
became dim-his teeth grated, and then became
fixed-his hands were clenched-his whole frame
convulsed-an hysteric laugh relieved him-tears
followed-he continued the walk for some time
in silence. After becoming calm, he thus told his
story.
"I was told, before I was capable of compre-
hending the nature of any obligation, that I was
A TALE OF THE INQUISITION.
395
vowed by my mother to the priesthood. All my
education tended to that point. As a child, I could
have no objection. It appeared desirable to become
one of those whose appearance inspired awe, and
whose dress and occupation marked them as su-
periors. I had afterwards my doubts and misgiv-
ings; but no circumstance occurred to break the
chain by which I was led to destruction. I went
through the studies and the forms: I took the
vows, and became a servant of the Church of
Rome. My mind acquiesced-I had an unshaken
reverence for the ministers of the church; for, in
my simple and free country, virtue was an inmate
of
every dwelling, whatever the faith of its pos-
sessor professed, or whatever his condition of life.
I was pure in intention, and virtuous in action. A
regiment was raised in our canton for the service
of the king of Spain, and I was appointed its
chaplain. To visit a foreign country, surrounded
by hundreds of my countrymen, who looked up to
me as a father and instructor, was a delightful pro-
spect to a young man, for the desire to travel is
common to youth, and to be revered and beloved,
and return good offices for love, I felt to be com-
mon to man. The regiment was marched to Spain,
and quartered in Madrid.
"Oh what a contrast between the inhabitants
of cities and those of the country! The love of
God and of my neighbour fills my breast in the
fields, and in the woods, and on the hill-top-even
now-even now-but, in the streets and crowds
396
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
of the city, my God is forgotten, and my neighbour
appears unworthy of love.
What a contrast was
there between these Spaniards, slaves to their
king, their nobles, and their vices, and the free-
born rustic sons of the mountains! The surround-
ing objects, the manners I saw, both in the laity
and clergy, had a powerful, deteriorating effect
upon my young mind. My passions, which had
been restrained by awe, not subdued by a rational
sense of duty, were here aroused, and they aroused
my mind to an examination of those vows, in
making which I had forsworn nature and contra-
vened the mandates of God.
"The passion which is given to be our greatest
joy, the bond of social union, the source of virtuous
action, I had forsworn, and that sin against nature
ruined me. I saw and loved a Spanish lady. I
appeared worthy in her eyes of reciprocal affection.
I was not then the wretched thing you see. I was
full of youth, and life, and health, and strength.
I could have bounded from rock to rock, like the
chamois of my native hills-I could-pshaw!
fool!" He wiped the drops from his forehead
and proceeded.
"I saw in the clearest point of view the horrible
state of bondage to which I had been doomed
before my birth, and I determined to free myself.
At my confessional I met the object of my love, a
love pure and holy, and there, and only there― in a
situation where apparently the possibility of being
overheard was provided against- our plans of
!
A TALE OF THE INQUISITION.
397
flight, and marriage, and future life, were arranged.
First England was to receive us, and then America
the refuge of the oppressed! This blessed
country was to be our asylum and our country.
The day was fixed-it had nearly arrived, when
I was seized, bound, and hurried to the dungeons
of the Inquisition."
A long pause ensued, and struggles almost to
convulsion took place before he could proceed.
"No third person had been confided in. I felt
confident that my secret was unknown-I had
dreadful misgivings and forebodings—but hope
assured me that I had been seized through error.
I demanded the cause of my arrest; but these
adamantine demons gave no answer; nor after
the first scrutinizing stare did they deign to cast
a glance on my visage. Then the truth rushed
on me—even the confessional was subject to the
espionage of the terrible power that had cast its
net around me, and held me a helpless, hopeless
victim. The key of my cell turned, the bolts
grated, and I was left to darkness and solitude.
Do not expect me to describe the mental tortures
I endured; if I could recall them, I should go
mad-where, where was the dear one on whom
my hope of earthly happiness had been fixed?
What would be her torture when she found herself
abandoned!
"Hours, days, weeks, months, passed before
these demons deigned to relieve this suspense, and
give me the comparative felicity of despair. At
398
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
A
length, four mute ministers of the inhuman power
visited me, and the light of a lamp for the second
time showed me the walls of my dungeon. They
decorated me with the insignia of guilt, and led
me to the dread tribunal of those who condemn
before trial, and torture their victims to force the
confession of guilt for the justification of the
judges. I was required to confess my crime with-
out having any charge made against me.
I re-
mained silent. They threatened. I persisted in
silence, and was remanded to my dungeon.
second time I was brought before them, and the
instruments of torture displayed. I preserved my
silence, and was sent back to darkness and soli-
tude. The third time on which I was led to my
condemners, I was charged with the crime of in-
tending to abjure my vows, and throw off my
allegiance to the church; and my whole plan was
detailed to me with a faithfulness which a tran-
script from my soul could only have equalled.
My heart died within me. A cloud came over my
bewildered mind; my senses failed, and when I
awoke I was alone in my horrible cell. In my
horrible cell I remained alone two years. I have
been able since to compute the time, not then.
All was then a void of darkness; or, when I could
reflect and look back on past days, pangs which
made the moments of madness desirable, racked
me, until I howled curses on the authors of my
existence. When I looked back upon the manner
in which I had been devoted to misery before my
A TALE OF THE INQUISITION.
399
birth, then led on from infancy, an unsuspect-
ing victim, in the way marked out for me before I
saw the light, and my feet trained to the pit in
which I now groaned-when I looked forward to
the years in which I must endure my sufferings,
before my strength would yield and death relieve
me-I arraigned the justice of Heaven-my mind,
loathing the error which had led to my destruc-
tion, rebelled against truth, and abandoned its
Creator-I abandoned and was abandoned by my
God! At the end of two years I was roused from
sleep-for even such a wretch had the consolation
of sleep-the ministers of cruelty entered, seized
me-stretched me on the stone floor of my dun-
geon, bound my limbs with cords to the iron rings
which were fixed for the purposes of torture, near
the corner of the cell, and-see-my mutilated
body testifies the truth of my tale-how long it
was before I recovered the use of my senses I
know not let me end. When I was sufficiently
recovered to be able to totter a few steps, I was
led from my cell, a most loathsome object, and
thrust from a private gate of the infernal region
into the street, about the hour of midnight. The
demon who turned me thus, powerless, shelterless,
and without the means of procuring subsistence,
upon a world which had been deprived of all its
charms to me, opened his mouth and accosted me
with the first words I had heard for years, except
my own ravings. I remember them well.
• Go,
be not seen near this building. Be not found in
400
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
Spain ten days hence. You always will have, as
you always have had, the eye of the holy Inqui-
sition on you.'
"I crawled by the aid of the walls. I remem-
bered a friend who might shelter me, and reached
his dwelling before the dawn of the first daylight I
had seen in three years. When with difficulty I
could make myself known to my friend-he proved
himself truly such-he did all that could be done
to alleviate my misery, and I embarked for Ame-
rica in less than ten days from the time I saw the
light, which had no longer joy for my eyes or my
heart." "The lady?"
She had disappeared
about the time I was missing, and never was
heard of more."
Such was one of the members of the orchestra.
Most of his companions considered themselves as
the victims of democracy. He knew himself to be
the victim of an institution which could only exist
in a monarchy or aristocracy. He was bitter in
his expressions against those institutions which
they loved. His hate of monarchies and hierar-
chies was deep; they adored the source of their
former ease and splendour. He had no compa-
nions in the theatre. A brother arrived from
Switzerland, and the ex-priest stripped himself of
all the property he had accumulated to help his
brother. He received offers from Havanna of a
situation as a musician, went thither, and yellow
fever soon ended his unfortunate life.
Among the musicians was a former captain of a
YOUNG EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
401
Bourbon horse, a fine fellow, who now eked out
his income by making ice-creams. Another, a ci-
devant noble, is remembered, always mild, gentle-
manly, and silent. There was one, who without
circumlocution offered his services as a go-be-
tween in any affair of what is called gallantry,
that might suit those who could pay or patronize
him. He was a noble by the rotten institutions
of Europe—the Swiss peasant was a noble from
the hand of nature, persecuted and destroyed by
those institutions.
Young, an Englishman, was the bassoon player
of the orchestra. He had contracted debts, and,
on the deputy sheriff or constable attempting to
arrest him, he drew forth a pistol and shot him.
The desperate man was immediately secured,
shortly after tried, condemned, and executed. He
committed the murder on the 29th of June, 1797.
About the middle of August, the governor re-
quested, by letter, James Kent, Esq., then recor-
der of the city, to attend, with the other magis-
trates, upon the execution of this miserable man ;
the sheriff being apprehensive of a rescue, the
governor ordered out a large detachment of the
militia, with arms and ammunition, to support the
sheriff. The criminal was accordingly guarded
thus to the place of expiation, but no tumult of
any kind occurred.
Mons. Victor Pellesier must not be forgotten in
a notice of the orchestra. He was a performer
on the horn, and a composer. His music for an
2 D
VOL. I.
402
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
opera, called Sterne's Maria, or the Vintage, is re-
membered with pleasure. He was a short, old gen-
tleman, and so near-sighted as to be nearly blind.
He was always cheerful, and his thoughts as fully
occupied by notes as any banker or broker in
Wall Street.
We have slightly mentioned, in a former chap-
ter, the sad story and death of Monsieur and
Madame Gardie. From Messrs. Ciceri and Pel-
lesier, the writer obtained a more detailed account
of the catastrophe, and the story of the former part
of the lives of these unhappy young people, than
could be given by persons not acquainted person-
ally with them, speaking their language, and fre-
quenting the house which was their place of abode,
and where the desperate act of the deluded man
was achieved.
Gardie was the son of a nobleman, the king's
receiver-general at La Rochelle, and possessor of
great wealth. The young man was idle and dissi-
pated; the expectation of inheriting great riches
operated to the destruction of that ambition which
would have rendered him worthy of their posses-
sion. His father, wishing to remove him from the
haunts of idleness, and to give that employment
which would correct present unprofitable habits,
sent him to St. Domingo, as his agent in some
commercial business. There he saw and formed
an intimacy with a beautiful and fascinating
woman, the mother of a male infant, who, as an
actress, for that was her profession, enchanted the
MONS. AND MAD. GARDIE.
403
public when on the stage, and in private life was
the charmer of all who approached her. This
woman had lived as wife with a performer of the
name of Maurison, who was the father of the in-
fant, at this time her solace and care, for she had
separated herself from Maurison, on finding him
unworthy of her affections. He had gone to France,
and, being a man of abilities, and carrying with
him property from the Cape, he was elected one of
the municipality of Lyons after the revolution, and
shared the fate of thousands, the fate of blood and
death, during the reign of terror.
Gardie and the fascinating actress became
united, and she accompanied him on his return to
La Rochelle; she continued to exercise her profes-
sional abilities, and was not received into his
father's family. The revolution, although it de-
prived the elder Gardie of his title, neither took
from him his wealth nor his office; he was alive at
the time of which we write, and receiver-general
at La Rochelle
One evening, when the beautiful actress was on
the stage, she was called upon to sing the Mar-
seillois Hymn. She refused. The cause of her
refusal is not stated. The audience were en-
raged—she was withdrawn from the stage, and,
at that time of universal excitement, found it ne-
cessary to fly the country. Gardie left country
and family, and accompanied the mistress of his
destiny. They returned to Cape François. On
the insurrection of the blacks, they took refuge in
404
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
this country, where they lived as man and wife,
he principally supported by her salary as a dancer
and pantomime actress, for her skill as a comedian
was nugatory, where her language could not be
understood by the frequenters of the theatre. The
boy knew him as a father and the husband of his
mother; as a husband and a father he was exem-
plary. The ballet and pantomime establishment
had been lopped off from the New-York theatre in
consequence of scanty receipts. Gardie's principal
resource for support was copying music. When
Mr. Hodgkinson, in 1798, had determined to leave
New-York for Boston, he employed Gardie to copy
the orchestra music belonging to the theatre of
the first place. He went away, and even that
source failed. The young man was in debt, and
as he himself thought without resource- he was
helpless and friendless. His wife, for such she
was in the eye of law and society here, solicited,
importuned, him to write to his father. He now
resolved to return to him. He wished her to re-
turn with him, but she could not conquer her re-
pugnance to the family which had rejected her,
and the people who had chased her from the stage
and the country. She refused to return. It ap-
pears that a separation had been agreed upon,
whether final or temporary is not known.
had engaged his passage for France, and she had
been the evening before her death at Mr. Hallam's,
consulting as to the means of enabling her to re-
turn to St. Domingo.
He
MONS. AND MAD. GARDIE.
405
On the fatal and horrible night, Gardie occupied
a small bed in the third story, in the same chamber
in which his wife and her boy, now about eight
years of age, slept. The boy was waked in the
night, and found himself in his supposed father's
arms, who was in the act of removing him from
his mother's bed, to place him in that which had
witnessed his agonies while he watched until his
victim should sleep. There was no light. On
the boy inquiring why he removed him from his
mother, he bade him be quiet and not wake his
mamma, then laid him in the bed from which he
had himself risen, and the boy again fell asleep;
but soon starting at the sound of a groan, which
he thought proceeded from his mother, the little
lad in great terror called out, "What is the mat-
ter, papa? What is the matter with mamma ?”
"Hush!" was the reply; your mamma is not
well—but she sleeps-don't disturb her.'
66
""
Again the child slept, unconscious that death in
his most horrid forms of murder and suicide was
at his side, and the murderer's task half achieved.
A noise of falling, struggling, and groans, a third
time awoke the boy; his calls were unanswered-
all was dark and silent-his terror increased when
he found that he received no answer to his re-
peated calls on his father and mother-he left his
bed, and, groping his way, his little hands encoun-
tered the yet warm corpse of his father on the
floor; and he felt the blood, as it yet oozed from
the wounds, and, unknowing what he did, he
406
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
pressed his little fingers into the gaping gashes,
whence life had scarcely escaped.
Wild with terror, the child reached the door of
the chamber, and it not being fastened he fled,
leaving the door open, and found his way to the
mistress of the boarding-house, who was awakened
by his cries. His tale was incoherent and unin-
telligible. His "papa and his mamma-his papa
and his mamma," were the only words understood.
His cries were not attended to, and he was sternly
ordered to go to bed. Thus repulsed, and not
daring to return to the dreadful chamber, he
sought the bed of one of the negro servants, and
crept trembling to his side.
About the break of day the dogs of the house
found their way to the scene of blood, and with
the most piteous cries gave vent to their feelings.
Several times they ran howling up and down
stairs before the family were alarmed. On enter-
ing the room, they found the miserable murderer
lying in the middle of the floor, weltering in his
blood; his right-hand above his head still grasp-
ing the knife, his face and limbs horribly distorted
-it appeared that he had been forced to inflict
several wounds on himself before he fell. She had
been killed by one blow, and lay as if asleep. He
had probably thought to be merciful in murder.
Such misery and such crime are not to be charged
to the theatre. They are found everywhere. They
are the fruits of error and vicious indulgence.
CHAPTER XIX.
Cause of the Decline of the Drama, and Remedies proposed.
In a former chapter we have recommended the in-
terference of the state in the regulation of the
theatre. The more we reflect upon the subject, the
more we are convinced of the propriety, utility, and
necessity, of the measure. It is a great and power-
ful engine for good or ill; and though its general
tendency may have been favourable to civilization
and morals, evils have attended, and do attend it.
In Germany, where it is altogether under the di-
rection and control of the government, one of these
evils is unknown; and where it is under the super-
vision and partial direction of the rulers, it is in its
worst form avoided, as in France. The evil we
mean, and shall protest against, is that which arises
from the English and American regulation of the-
atres, which allots a distinct portion of the pro-
scenium to those unfortunate females who have
been the victims of seduction. In Germany, the
theatre is the prince's; it is directed by a literary
man in his service. The director and players are
paid by the government, and, being chosen for
talents and moral conduct, are honoured by the
prince and his court. Here the theatre is the peo-
408
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
7
ple's, as all things are; and the representatives and
guardians of the people ought to prevent the mis-
use and perversion of it in any way. The directors
ought to be controlled to their own and the public
good by the official servants of the public, and, in
the particular abuse above mentioned, the pro-
hibition of the immoral display would remove a
just stigma from the theatre, and would further
the views of managers by increasing their receipts.
In France, the theatres are under strict control,
and some of them are supported by the govern-
ment. The abominable regulation which causes
this evil is there unknown, and the evil is unknown.
It is not practicable to exclude the impure and
the vicious from public resorts, neither is it to be
wished. If the drama is such as a good govern-
ment ought to permit, its influence cannot be ill on
the immoral auditor, and may be good. But no
separate place should be set apart, to present to
the gaze of the matron and virgin the unabashed
votaries of vice, and to tempt the yet unsullied
youth, by the example of the false face which de-
pravity assumes for the purpose of enticing to
guilt.
We would not propose that our countrymen
should take any European mode of government for
a model; or that the theatres of America should
be regulated according to the usages of Germany
and France; but we do hope that what is good
will be adopted from the laws and customs of
every country, as far as it can be adapted to our
DECLINE OF THE DRAMA.
409
republican institutions. In France the audience
see no display of the nature we have mentioned.
It is only in England and America that the nui-
sance exists. If a regulation was enforced, that
no female should come to a theatre unattended by
a protector of the other sex, except such whose
standing in society is a passport to every place,
the evil would be effectually remedied. The moral
would not be deterred from a rational amusement,
and the public and the manager would both be
benefited.
The improper, indecent, and scandalous prac-
tice of setting apart a portion of the boxes for this
most disgusting display of shameless vice, has no
connexion with the question of the utility of the-
atres. The prostitution of the pencil, the graver,
or that mighty engine, the press, to the
to the purposes
of vice, immorality, or irreligion, might with equal
propriety be charged against those modes of ame-
liorating or instructing society.
It is to be lamented that when the people of
Massachusetts introduced the theatre in their
capital, having the experience of the world before
them, they had not set an example to their fellow-
citizens, by purifying the dramatic establishment
and abolishing this evil. They appear to have
noticed it, but, instead of remedying, they, if pos-
sible, made it worse. The Federal Street theatre
provided a separate entrance for those who came
for the express purpose of alluring to vice. The
2 E
410
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
boxes displayed the same row of miserable victims,
decked in smiles and borrowed finery, and the en-
trance could only, by its separation from those ap-
propriated to the residue of the audience, become
a screen inviting to secret guilt. The new theatre
of Philadelphia gave an opportunity for reform, as
did that of New-York; but these opportunities
were neglected, and those who wished to support,
as a mode of improvement, the representation of
good dramatic works, have been driven from the
boxes by the spectacle presented, not on the stage,
but on seats placed opposite to them, and attract-
ing their attention from the stage.
Since writing the above, we have seen the Eng-
lish theatre charged by an English writer with
disgraceful arrangements, which would not be
endured in the most dissolute capital of the Conti-
nent, and which seem intended to justify the severe
denunciations of those who entertain religious
scruples about the stage." The same writer says:
"We venture to hope, that one theatre will break
the unholy association with open vice and im-
morality, by imitating the stricter police of the
Continental theatres."
We will venture to hope that, not only one the-
atre, but all will break this unholy alliance. There
is the more reason to hope, from the conviction
that, as a mere money-making speculation, it
would be found for the interest of all concerned.
But if managers will not so regulate the police of
:
DECLINE OF THE DRAMA.
411
the theatre, we hope that grand juries or legisla-
tive bodies will take the regulation into their
hands.
Our forefathers, both in America and England,
saw the noblest efforts of the mind of man, when
presented by the stage, accompanied by meanness
in theatres and decorations, and frequently by
mediocrity in the performers who gave them utter-
ance. We see splendid theatres, excellent per-
formers, beautiful scenery, classical decorations,
and appropriate dresses, but the plays brought
out as meagre, mean, and despicable as the barns
and sail-lofts which formerly echoed with the in-
spirations of Shakspeare, or the laughter excited
by the wit of Congreve. Have not the dimensions
of theatres been one cause of the degradation of
the Drama? We can hardly conceive that the
perfection of the painter and the player has caused
the deterioration of the dramatist-unless, that
dramatists have been induced to write plays to
suit the ability or whim of the player, and relied on
his support instead of their own resources-or,
that managers have thought it cheaper or more
profitable to display gilding and paint, accompa-
nied by the inanity of a playwright hired by the
week, than the effusions of a poet, whose words
could not be heard from a stage removed beyond
the sound of human voice. The huge house re-
quires an exertion of the actor's voice which
destroys its melody, and renders variety of intona-
tion impossible. The expression of the actor's face
412
THE AMERICAN THEATRE.
cannot be seen by the spectator, and to endeavour.
to convey ideas by the countenance, exaggeration
and grimace are resorted to. To see or to hear,
the spectator and auditor must overstrain atten-
tion, and overstrained attention causes pain and
weariness, instead of the delight we seek.
Another evil flowing from large theatres, is that
desire to fill them, which has induced the shameful
exhibitions of monsters, and beasts, and other
vulgar shows. This is one reason of their being
left to such audiences as are fit for such exhibi-
tions; and, until this evil, and the still greater,
which we have combated in the commencement of
this chapter, are removed, we cannot hope to see
audiences of the learned, the wise, and the good,
attending to the productions of the poet, the wit,
and the moralist.
END OF VOL. I.
LONDON!
F. SHOBERL, JUN. LONG ACRE.
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