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FANNY    KEMBLE    (MRS.    BUTLER). 
Painted   by   Sir  Thomas   Lawrence,    R.A.      (His    Last    Work). 


SHAKESPEARE'S 
HEROINES 

ON   THE   STAGE 


BY 


CHARLES    E.    L.  WINGATE 

AUTHOR   OF   AN    IMPOSSIBLE    POSSIBILITY,     CAN    SUCH    THINGS    BE? 
THE    PLAY-GOERS    YEAR    BOOK,    ETC. 


WITH 

ILLUSTRATIONS 
From  Photographs  and  Rare   Prints 


NEW  YORK:  46   East    14TH    Street 

THOMAS    Y.    CROWELL   &    COMPANY 

BOSTON:   100  Purchase  Street 


Copyright,  1895, 
By  Thomas  Y.  Ckowell  &  Company. 


TYPOGRAPHY  BY  C.  J.   l'ETKRS  &  SON 
PRESS  WORK  BY  ROCKWELL  &  CUUBCHIIO. 


3112. 


■ 


PREFACE. 


In  so  far  as  it  is  a  literary  sin  to  attempt  the 
writing  of  any  bit  of  history  in  a  brief  and  anec- 
dotical  vein,  I  cry  Peccavi.  But  what  would  you? 
To  obtain  simply  the  foundation  for  this  book  re- 
quired patience-trying  researches  among  dust-cov- 
ered shelves  where  rested  antique  play-bills  and 
moth-eaten  records.  To  produce  the  much  desired, 
but  as  yet  unexisting,  "  Complete  History  of  Shake- 
speare on  the  Stage,"  would  necessitate  the  patience 
of  Job  and  the  a^e  of  Methuselah.  I  have  not 
the  one,  nor  can  I  reasonably  expect  the  other. 
And  even  if  I  had  both  gifts,  I  should  not  ask 
my  friends,  the  gentle  readers,  to  emulate  the  man 
of  sorrows  in  mentally  struggling  through  such  a 
ponderous  work.  For  their  sakes  I  have  made  this 
book  as  short  as  I  could;  I  hope  none  will  wish 
it  were  shorter. 

In  the  present  volume  the  "  heroines "  hold  the 
centre  of  the  stage  —  to  speak  in  their  own  lan- 
guage ;  but  within  the  descriptions,  criticisms,  and 
anecdotes  regarding  their  lives  and  their  impersona- 
tions,   will   be   found    sufficient  historical   record,   it 


in 


IV  PREFACE. 

is  hoped,  to  serve  as  a  portion  of  the  one  missing 
book  in  Shakespearian  lore.  And  if,  in  their  mind's 
eye,  admirers  of  the  plays  in  the  library,  and  ad- 
mirers of  the  players  on  the  stage,  cannot,  through 
this  medium,  see  the  impersonators  and  impersona- 
tions which  delighted  their  fathers,  and  their  fathers' 
fathers  before  them,  while  they  also  catch  a  glimpse 
of  the  Shakespearian  acting  of  to-day,  then  I  have 
failed  to  give  pleasure  to  more  than  one  person 
in  the  world  —  myself ;  for  to  me  the  work  was 
a  pleasure.  My  good  helpmate,  the  proof-reader, 
whispers  in  my  ear,  that  he,  too,  lias  read  the  work 
thoroughly;  but  simply  the  fact  that  he  has  endured 
the  book  does  not  prove  that  it  will  be  enduring. 
'•  Time  is  the  old  justice  that  examines  all  such 
offenders." 

Under  any  circumstances  the  pictures  must  prove 
attractive.  Most  of  them  are  copies  of  rare  and 
interesting  prints,  a  large  number  of  which  were 
kindly  loaned,  for  reproduction,  by  Mr.  John  Bouve 
Clapp  of  Boston.  Three  of  the  chapters,  I  must 
add  (Hermione,  Cleopatra,  and  Imogen),  have  been 
enlarged  from  articles  written  originally  by  me  for 
the  Cosmopolitan,  and  are  now  reprinted,  with  their 
illustrations,  by  the  permission  of  the  editor  of  that 


magazine. 


C.  E.  L.  W. 


CONTENTS. 


Juliet 

Beatrice 

•Hermione  and  Perdita. 
Viola      ....... 

Imogen   

Rosalind 

•  Cleopatra 

*  Lady  Macbeth  .... 
Queen  Katharine      .     . 

^  Portia 

Katharina 

Ophelia 

Desdemona     


(Romeo  and  Juliet.) 
(  Much  Ado  About  Nothing.) 
(Winter's  Tale.)  .     . 
(Twelfth  Night.)  .     . 
(Cymbel'me.)     . 
(As  You  Like  It.)      . 
(Antony  and  Cleopatra 
(Macbeth.)  .... 
(Henry  VIII.)      .     . 
(Merchant  of  Venice. ) 
(The  Taming  of  the  Shr 
(Hamlet.)     .... 
(Othello.)     .... 


PAGE 

<5> 


rir 


31 
59 

103 

165 


227 
237 
265 
283 
317 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Fanny  Kemble  (Mrs.  Butler) Frontispiece. 

Painted  by  Sie  Thomas  Lawrence,    (His  last  work.) 

Juliet. 

Mrs.  Bellamy facing  page  2 

Mrs.  Cibber "         "  8 

Miss  O'Neill  (Lady  Becher) "         "  14 

Engraved  by  J,  C.  Armytage. 

Adelaide  Xeilson  as  Juliet "         "         22 

Charlotte  and  Susan  Cushman  as  Romeo  and  Juliet 

Tallis  print,  facing  page     26 

Mary  Anderson "         "        2S 

Beatrice. 

Mrs.  Abington facing  page     34 

From  a  steel  portrait  after  Cosywvy. 
Elizabeth  Farren  (Countess  of  Derby)   .     .         "         "        38 

Painted  by  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence,  R.  A. 
Louisa  Brunton  (Countess  of  Craven)   .     .  "         "        40 

Engraved  by  J.  C.  Armytage. 
Maria  Foote  (Countess  of  Harrington)  .     .  "         "        42 

Drawn  by  T.  O.  Steedex.    Engraved  by  J.  Rogers. 
Louisa  C.  Xisbett  (Lady  Boothby)    .     .     .    faring  page     40 

Painted  by  J.  G.  Middleton.      Engraved  by  J.  C.  Army- 
tage. 

Ellen  Tree  (Mrs.  Charles  Kean)  ....     facing  page    48 
Painted  by   Silt  W.   C.   ROSS,  A.  It.  A.      Engraved  by  J.  C. 
Armytage. 

vii 


Vlll  LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Hermione  and  Perdita. 

Mrs.  Mary  Robinson facing  page     64 

Mrs.  W.  West •         "        70 

Painted  by  Stump.     Engraved  by  .1.  Thomsox. 

Mrs.  Warner  as  Hermione "         "        76 

Tallis  print. 

Mary  Anderson  as  Hermione "         "        78 

Viola. 

Mine.  Modjeska facing  page    84 

Mrs.  Julia  Bennett  Barrow "         "         88 

Airs.  George  Barrett "         "        90 

Miss  Yoimge,  J.  Dodd,  J.  Love,  and  F.  Waldron  as  Yiola, 
Sir  Andrew  Aguecheek,   Sir  Toby  Beleb,   and 

Fabian facing  page    94 

Painted  by  Francis  Wheatley,  R.  A. 

Mrs.  Jordan "         "        98 

Drawn  by  Kennerley.    Engraved  by  -I.  Rogers. 

Imogen. 

Julia  Marlowe  as  Imogen fining  page  112 

Miss  Stephens  (Countess  of  Essex)   ...  "         "       124 

Painted  by  G.  H.  HARLOW.     Engraved  by  H.  Meyer. 

Mrs.  Crouch faring  page  126 

Rosalind. 

Peg  Woffington facing  page  130 

Tainted  by  ECCARD. 

Spranger  Barry "         "       134 

Helen  Faucit  (Lady  Martin) "         "       144 

Painted  by  Mrs.  Murgrave  (nee  Heaphy).  Engraved  by 
J.  0.  Armvt  \<.i  . 

Adelaide  Neilson facing  page  150 

Ada  Rehan "         "160 

Cleopatra. 

Julia  Dean-Hayne facing  page  170 

Rose  Eytinge "         "172 

Mrs.  Langtry  as  Cleopatra "         "       174 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATION'S.  IX 

Cleopatra.  —  Continued. 

Mrs.  Hartley  as  Cleopatra facing  page  ITS 

Mrs.  Yates "         "180 

.Mrs.  Faucit "         "182 

Painted  by  Partridge.    Engraved  by  J.  Thomson. 

Isabel  Glyn-Dallas  as  Cleopatra     ....    facing  page  188 
Tallis  print.    Engraved  by  Hollis,  from  ;i  daguerrotype  by 
Paine  of  Islington. 

Lady  Macbeth. 

David  Garrick facing  page  192 

Mrs.  Siddons "         "      196 

Painted  by  Sir  Thomas   Lawrence,  R.  A.     Engraved  by 
Thomas  Lupton. 

Genevieve  Ward  as  Lady  Macbeth    .     .     .     facing  page  200 
Charlotte  Cushman  as  Lady  Macbeth    .     .  "        "      218 

Mine.  Janauschek "         "       222 

Ristori  as  Lady  Macbeth "         "      224 

• 

Queen  Katharine. 

Mrs.  Siddons  as  the  Tragic  Muse  ....     facing  page  230 

Painted  by  SIR  JOSHUA  REYNOLDS. 

Portia. 

Mr.  Macklin        facing  page   238 

Kitty  Clive "         "       240 

Miss  Younge  (Mrs.  Pope) "         "       242 

Engraved  by  Ridley  from  an  original  by  .Mi:.  Pope. 

Edmund  Kean  as  Shylock facing  page  252 

Painted  by  \V.  II.  Watt. 

Ellen  Terry  as  Portia "         "       256 

Katiiarixa. 

Ada  Rehan  as  Katharina facing  page  278 

Used  by  courtesy  of  AuGCSTiN  Daly. 

Ophelia. 

Mrs.  Baddeley facing  page  296 

Ellen  Terry "         "304 

Mine.  Modjeska  as  Ophelia "         "       312 


JULIET. 
(Romeo  and  Juliet.) 


When  the  beautiful  siren,  Mrs.  Bellamy,  played 
Juliet  to  the  passionate  Garrick,  and  the  unsurpass- 
able Mrs.  Cibber  acted  the  Capulet  to  the  silver- 
tongued  Barry,  then  the  theatre  saw  such  a  contest 
for  fame  as  it  never  saw  before.  London  was  in  a 
fever  of  excitement  at  the  declared  rivalry  of  the 
great  kings  and  queens  of  the  drama;  and  at  each 
house  the  play  ran  for  the  then  unprecedented  period 
of  twelve  nights  —  Garrick  adding  a  thirteenth  per- 
formance so  as  to  have  the  last  word. 

Spranger  Barry  had  grown  weary  of  Garrick's 
jealousy.  Little  Davy,  not  content  with  the  profits 
as  manager  and  part-proprietor  of  Drury  Lane,  to- 
gether with  his  seven  hundred  pounds  a  year  as  an 
actor,  could  not  brook  the  applause  showering  down 
upon  the  handsome,  captivating  Barry  ;  and,  if  we 
may  believe  the  latter,  drove  his  rival  to  the  other 
theatre,  Covent  Garden,  to  associate  there  with  Quin, 

1 


2  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

who  was  rejoicing  in  a  salary  of  a  thousand  pounds 
for  the  season,  up  to  that  time  the  largest  sum  ever 
paid  to  a  player. 

On  the  28th  of  September,  1750,  "Romeo  and 
Juliet"  was  billed  at  both  houses.  An  occasional 
prologue  spoken  by  Barry  maintained,  in  poor  verse, 
that  he  and  Mrs.  Cibber  had  been  driven  from  Drury 
Lane  by  Garrick's  selfishness  and  arrogance  —  to 
which  Garrick  on  his  stage  replied  in  an  epilogue, 
more  good  natured  than  the  attack  of  his  rival,  de- 
livered by  the  saucy  tongue  of  Kitty  Clive.  The 
statelier  beauty  and  the  strength  of  tragic  action 
that  marked  Mrs.  Gibber's  Juliet  contrasted  with  the 
loveliness  and  amorous  rapture  of  Mrs.  Bellamy,  as 
did  the  tender,  melting  pleading  of  Barry  with  the 
impetuous  love-making  of  Garrick :  and  the  town 
knew  not  which  to  place  above  the  other.  They 
pointed  out  on  the  one  side  the  effective  acting  of 
gallant  Barry  in  the  garden  scenes  of  the  second 
and  fourth  acts,  and  in  the  opening  part  of  the  tomb 
scene,  and  then  turned  to  Garrick's  strong  acting 
with  the  friar  and  the  apothecary ;  and  finally,  tired 
of  the  double-edged  argument,  and  wondering  when 
the  lengthened  rivalry  would  end,  they  recited  in 
humorous  glee  the  epigram  that  so  well  hit  off  the 
prolonged  run  of  the  play  :  — 


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MRS.    BELLAMY. 


JULIET.  6 

"'Well,  what's  to-night?'   says  angry  Ned, 
As  up  from  bed  he  rouses; 
'  Romeo  again!'   he  shakes  his  head: 
'  A  plague  on  both  your  houses ! ' 

One  lady  hearer  told  in  a  sentence  her  sensa- 
tions at  the  play:  "Had  I  been  Juliet  to  Garrick's 
Romeo,"  she  said,  "  so  ardent  and  impassioned  was 
he,  I  should  have  expected  that  he  would  have  come 
up  to  me  in  the  balcony;  but  had  I  been  Juliet  to 
Barry's  Romeo,  so  tender,  so  eloquent,  and  so  seduc- 
tive was  he,  I  should  certainly  have  gone  down  to 
him!" 

Old  Macklin  had  his  critical  fling  at  them  both. 
He  told  Garrick  to  his  face  that  in  his  next  lecture 
he  intended  to  settle  the  claims  of  the  Romeos,  then 
aoitatino;  the  town  ;  and  when  Garrick  anxiously  in- 
quired  what  he  proposed  to  do,  Barry's  Mercutio 
replied,  "  I  mean  to  show  your  different  merits  in 
the  sfarden  scene.  Barry  comes  into  it.  sir,  as  a 
great  lord,  swaggering  about  his  love,  and  talking  so 
loud  that,  if  we  don't  suppose  the  servants  of  the 
Capulet  family  almost  dead  with  sleep,  they  must 
have  come  out  and  tossed  him  in  a  blanket.  Well, 
sir,  after  having  fixed  my  auditors  attention  to  this 
part,  then  I  shall  ask:  But  how  does  Garrick  act 
this  ?     Why,  sir,  sensible  that  the  family  are  at  en- 


4  SHAKESPEARE  S    HEROINES. 

mity  with  him  and  his  house,  he  comes  creeping  in 
upon  his  toes,  whispering  his  love,  and  looking  about 
him  like  a  thief  in  the  night." 

And  an  old  sailor  in  the  gallery  one  nig-ht  laconi- 
cally  set  off  the  true  reason  of  all  this  hot  theatri- 
cal fight  when,  after  Bellamy  sighed,  "  O  Romeo, 
Romeo  !  wherefore  art  thou  Romeo  ?  "  the  tar  cried 
out,  "Why?  Because  Barry  plays  the  part  at  the 
other  house,  to  be  sure." 

But  Garrick,  though  he  kept  up  the  rivalry 
through  the  season,  ultimately  abandoned  the  char- 
acter to  handsome  Barry.  In  Ins  arrangement  of 
the  play,  he  caused  Romeo  to  be  in  love  with  Juliet 
from  the  beginning  (an  innovation  that  held  the 
stage  thenceforth  until  Henry  Irving's  productions 
of  1882),  and  also  made  Juliet  awake  before  Romeo's 
death. 

As  for  the  Juliets  —  what  contrasting  love  scenes 
had  been  their  fate  in  actual  life !  Only  two  years 
before  the  "Romeo  and  Juliet"  controversy,  Mrs. 
Bellamy  had  been  carried  off  (perhaps  not  unwill- 
ingly) by  a  gentleman  named  Metham,  who,  during 
an  intermission  in  the  play,  had  requested  her  to 
come  into  the  hall,  only  to  bundle  the  fair  actress 
away  to  his  carriage  without  a  moment's  delay,  leav- 
ing Quin  to  explain  to  the  audience  why  the  Lady 


JULIET.  5 

Fanciful  of  the  evening-  could  not  finish  the  play. 
The  same  fickle  dame  had  previously  been  abducted 
by  an  Earl,  who  carried  her  off,  he  said,  for  his  friend, 
l.onl  Byron,  and  who  received  from  her  brother  a 
severe  chastisement  after  that  vounsr  man  had  fol- 
lowed  the  abducting  carriage  (ignorant  for  a  time 
that  it  contained  his  sister),  in  order  to  rescue  the 
unknown  female  within.  Before  the  entire  audience 
she  had  slapped  the  face  of  a  reckless  officer  who 
dared  kiss  her  neck  as  she  passed  him  at  the  wings, 
and,  in  return,  had  received  the  standing  applause 
of  all  the  notables,  including  Lord  Chesterfield,  then 
Lord  Lieutenant  of  Ireland. 

Again,  by  her  vigorous  denunciation  of  another 
gentlemanly  ruffian  who  insulted  a  sister  actress, 
this  fair,  blue-eyed  actress  had  led  to  a  scene  of 
excitement  in  the  house,  resulting  in  the  fellow 
thro  win  o-  a  missile  at  Manager  Sheridan,  and  the 
latter  cudgelling  the  scoundrel  behind  the  scenes ; 
a  little  episode  to  be  followed  the  next  night  by 
a  riot  in  the  playhouse  in  which  property  was 
smashed,  and  Sheridan  obliged  to  fly  for  his  life. 
and  the  next  day  by  the  ducking  of  the  mob's 
ringleaders  at  the  hands  of  the  college  students, 
who  felt  somewhat  annoyed  at  having  their  favorite 
amusement,  the  play-acting,  thus  interrupted.      And 


6  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

then  came  the  Metham  interlude,  then  the  execu- 
tion of  a  formal  contract  with  a  wealthy  army 
contractor  who  engaged  to  marry  her  within  six 
or  seven  years  or  to  forfeit  fifty  thousand  pounds 
(and  who  fled  from  the  altar,  for  the  good  and 
sufficient  reason  that  he  was  already  married),  ant, 
then  —  the  fall. 

Neglectful  of  her  profession,  careless  of  her  purse. 
she  dropped  to  such  privation  that  gladly  she  ac- 
cepted the  paltry  six  pounds  a  week  offered  by  a 
pitying  manager.  Mossop  sought  to  bring  her  once 
again  to  the  front ;  but  the  disappointment,  chagrin, 
and  pity  of  the  audience  sufficed  to  make  the  night 
the  last  in  her  stage  career. 

"The  roses  were  fled,"  said  Tate  Wilkenson,  de- 
scribing this  reappearance  of  the  once  beautiful  fa- 
vorite ;  "  the  young,  the  lovely  Bellamy  was  turned 
haggard,  and  her  eyes  that  used  to  charm  all  hearts 
appeared  sunk,  large,  hollow,  and  ghastly." 

Yet  Bellamy  was  then  but  twenty-nine  years  of 
age.  Alas  !  the  picture :  "  A  little  dirty  creature, 
bent  nearly  double,  enfeebled  by  fatigue,  her  coun- 
tenance tinged  with  jaundice,  and  in  every  respect 
the  reverse  of  a  person  who  could  make  the  least 
pretension  to  beauty  '  —  this  is  her  own  description 
of  herself  in  her  memoirs.      Constantly  arrested  for 


JULIET.  7 

debt,  selling  all  her  diamonds  and  clothes,  and  bor- 
rowing all  she  could ;  deterred  from  casting  herself 
into  the  Thames  only  by  overhearing  the  sad  plaints 
of  a  creature  even  more  wretched  than  herself,  at 
last,  in  1788,  at  the  age  of  fifty-seven,  this  illegiti- 
mate daughter  of  Lord  Tyrawley,  by  the  wife  of 
Captain  Bellamy,  died. 

Sad  also  is  a  portion  of  the  story  of  the  rival  Juliet; 
but  her  afflictions  came  from  marriage  with  a  con- 
temptible,  vile  scoundrel,  Theophilus  Cibber,  the 
spendthrift  son  of  famous,  foppish  Colley.  A 
sweet-faced  girl,  delicate  in  form,  and  possessed  of 
an  attractive  voice,  Susannah  Arne  married  this  ruf- 
fian, only  to  have  her  salary  squandered  by  her  hus- 
band, and  herself  neglected,  and  even  beguiled  into 
another  man's  arms  that  he,  the  husband,  might 
play  the  blackmailer.  But  the  public  sustained  her 
through  it  all.  As  for  her  Juliet,  an  old  critic  said, 
"  He  who  has  seen  Mrs.  Cibber  from  the  first  sus- 
picion of  the  draught  not  working  as  intended,  rise 
to  the  terror  of  her  waking  before  her  time,  finding- 
herself  encompassed  with  'reeking  shanks  and  yellow 
chapless  skulls,'  become  distracted  with  the  horror 
of  the  place,  '  plucking  the  mangled  Tybalt  from  his 
shroud,'  till  at  length  she  shall  '  with  some  great 
kinsman's  bone  madly  dash  out  her  desperate  brains,' 


8  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

has  seen  all  that  is  possible  to  be  conveyed,  this  way, 
of  terror,  and  has  had  an  example  of  that  gradation 
by  which  fire  and  spirit  may  be  raised  from  the  most 
slight  step  to  the  most  exalted  height." 

Three  years  after  this  great  contest  of  stage  lovers, 
Mrs.  Gibber  returned  to  Drury  Lane  to  play  Juliet 
to  Garrick's  Romeo,  and  in  her  place  at  Covent 
Garden  appeared  Miss  Nossiter.  Here,  then,  were 
genuine  Romeo  and  Juliet,  for  Barry  loved  Nossiter 
and  by  her  was  beloved.  The  delicate  girl  died, 
however,  after  a  brief  career,  bequeathing  to  her 
Romeo  three  thousand  pounds. 

Another  "  realism "  of  the  stage  was  the  appear- 
ance of  mother  and  daughter  in  the  roles  of  Lady 
Capulet  and  Juliet,  when  Miss  Pritchard  first  ap- 
peared in  the  character  of  the  sweet  maiden,  and 
Mrs.  Pritchard,  with  maternal  care,  assisted  in  such 
loving  anxiety  as  to  move  some  of  the  audience  to 
tears. 

Richard  Burbadge,  it  is  held,  was  the  Romeo 
when  the  great  love  tragedy  was  originally  pro- 
duced in  Shakespeare's  day,  and  Will  Kempe  the 
original  First  Grave-digger ;  but  the  first  Juliet  of 
whom  we  have  definite  word  was  Miss  Saunderson, 
afterwards  Mrs.  Betterton,  who  played  the  part  in 
1662,  at  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  to  the  Mercutio  of  her 


MRS.   CIBBER. 


JULIET.  V 

future  husband,  and  to  the  Romeo  of  Joseph  Harris, 
—  a  player,  curiously  enough,  equally  successful  as 
Romeo,  Cardinal  Wolsey,  and  Sir  Andrew  Ague- 
cheek. 

It  was  only  the  year  before  this  that  actresses  had 
appeared  upon  the  English  stage.  Smooth-faced 
boys  had  interpreted  the  maids  of  the  drama  until 
the  fashion  of  having1  women  in  the  roles  was  im- 
ported  from  France.  On  the  3d  of  January,  1661, 
Pepys,  attending  the  "  Beggar's  Bush "  at  Kille- 
grew's  Theatre,  notes  that  then  was  k%  the  first  time 
that  ever  I  saw  women  come  upon  the  stage." 

On  March  1,  1662,  our  good  friend  of  diary  fame 
saw  "  Romeo  and  Juliet,"  but  he  did  not  agree  with 
his  successors  of  the  present  century  in  regarding 
the  tragedy  as  a  great  play.  In  fact,  he  declared, 
"  It  is  a  play  of  itself  the  worst  that  ever  I  heard, 
and  the  worst  acted  that  ever  I  saw  these  people 
do."  But  then,  perhaps  Pepys  had  some  cause  for 
complaint,  as  the  tragedy  had  been  "improved"  by 
Mr.  James  Howard  so  as  to  save  the  lives  of  both 
Romeo  and  Juliet,  while  the  players  rendered  it 
tragically  one  day,  and  then  tragi-comically  the  next 
day,  and  so  on  for  several  days. 

Since  the  time  of  Miss  Saunderson,  Juliets  without 
number  have  crowded  the  stage,  and  to-day  no  ac- 


10  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

tress  apparently  thinks  a  better  start  can  be  made 
in  the  theatrical  profession  than  by  essaying  this 
character.  We  will,  therefore,  glance  only  at  those 
who  from  some  especial  reason  have  made  their  per- 
formances of  interest. 

There  was  the  debut  of  Mrs.  Robinson,  the  Perdita 
whose  romantic  tale  is  told  in  the  story  of  the  Her- 
miones.  The  youthful  wife  of  an  imprisoned  adven- 
turer, this  fascinating  woman  sought  to  earn  a  living 
by  taking  up  the  stage,  and,  having  recited  with 
good  effect  scenes  from  "Romeo  and  Juliet"  before 
Garrick  and  Sheridan,  was  given  the  chance  of  mak- 
ing an  appearance  in  that  play.  She  was  a  notoriety 
even  then  in  fashionable  circles,  and  the  house  was 
crowded.  'T  was  thus  she  made  her  debut,  as  nar- 
rated by  herself  :  — 

"  The  green  room  and  orchestra  (where  Mr.  Garrick  sat  dur- 
ing the  night)  were  thronged  with  critics.  When  I  approached 
the  side  wing  my  head  throbbed  convulsively ;  I  then  began 
to  feel  my  resolution  would  fail,  and  I  leaned  upon  the  nurse's 
arm,  almost  fainting.  Mr.  Sheridan  and  several  other  friends 
encouraged  me  to  proceed  ;  and  at  length,  with  trembling  limbs 
and  fearful  apprehension,  I  approached  the  audience.  The 
thundering  applause  that  greeted  me  nearly  overpowered  all 
my  faculties  ;  I  stood  mute  and  bending  with  alarm,  which 
did  not  subside  till  T  had  feebly  articulated  the  few  sentences 
of  the  first  short  scene,  during  the  whole  of  which  I  never  once 


JULIET.  11 

ventured  to  look  at  the  audience.  The  second  scene  being  the 
masquerade,  I  had  time  to  collect  myself  ;  I  never  shall  forget 
the  sensation  which  rushed  through  my  boteom  when  first  I 
looked  toward  the  pit.  I  beheld  a  gradual  ascent  of  heads; 
all  eyes  were  fixed  upon  me,  and  the  sensation  they  conveyed 
was  awfully  impressive  ;  but  the  keen  and  penetrating  eyes  of 
Mr.  Garrick,  darting  their  lustre  from  the  centre  of  the  or- 
chestra, were  beyond  all  others  the  objects  most  conspicuous. 
As  I  acquired  courage  I  found  the  applause  augment,  and  the 
night  was  concluded  with  peals  of  clamorous  approbation. 
.  .  .  The  second  character  which  I  played  was  Amanda,  in  '  A 
Trip  to  Scarborough.'  The  play  was  based  upon  Vanbrugh's 
'  Relapse  ; '  and  the  audience,  supposing  it  was  a  new  piece,  on 
finding  themselves  deceived,  expressed  a  considerable  degree 
of  disapprobation.  I  was  terrified  beyond  imagination  when 
Mrs.  Yates,  no  longer  able  to  bear  the  hissing  of  the  audience, 
quitted  the  scene,  and  left  me  alone  to  encounter  the  critic- 
tempest.  I  stood  for  some  moments  as  though  I  had  been 
petrified  ;  Mr.  Sheridan  from  the  side  wing  desired  me  not  to 
quit  the  boards  ;  the  late  Duke  of  Cumberland,  from  the  side 
box,  bade  me  to  take  courage^  '  It  is  not  you,  but  the  play 
they  hiss,'  said  his  royal  highness.  I  courtesied ;  and  that 
courtesy  seemed  to  electrify  the  whole  house,  for  a  thundering 
peal  of  encouraging  applause  followed  —  the  comedy  was 
suffered  to  go  on,  and  is  to  this  hour  a  stock  play  at  Drury 
Lane  Theatre." 

Immediately  Mrs.  Robinson  became  the  rage.  She 
had  the  fame,  and  her  husband  drew  the  salary.  But, 
after  two  seasons,  that  fateful  performance  of  "  The 
Winter's  Tale  "  came  off. 


12  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

When  Mrs.  Siddons  undertook  Juliet  her  trao-ic 
face,  through  time  and  study,  had  lost  the  youthful 
freshness  necessary  for  the  part ;  for  she  was  then 
thirty-four  years  old,  and  by  nature  too  dignified 
and  thoughtful  to  affect  a  maidenly  love.  Impas- 
sioned, terrific,  sublime,  was  the  verdict  in  her  tragic 
scenes,  but  the  love  portions  were  not  received  with 
favor.  That  was  in  1780  at  Old  Drury,  when  the 
Romeo  (equally  unsuccessful)  was  Juliet's  brother, 
John  Kemble. 

Around  the  Juliet  of  Julia  Grimani  hangs  no  fame, 
but  yet  a  pretty  romance,  resembling  that  of  Miss 
Nossiter.  She  was  of  an  ancient  family,  one  that  had 
furnished  five  Doges  to  Venice.  Her  father,  early 
destined  for  the  church,  but  breaking  his  vow  of 
celibacy  to  marry  a  nun,  whom  he  also  persuaded  to 
break  her  vow,  was  in  later  years  an  eminent  pro- 
fessor at  Eton,  in  England.  Born  of  his  second  wife, 
Julia  lived  for  some  time  as  the  prote</ee  of  the  Coun- 
tess of  Suffolk.  The  offers  of  several  nobles  she 
turned  aside  for  lack  of  love  ;  but  when,  in  1804,  in 
spite  of  the  efforts  of  her  prominent  friends,  she 
adopted  the  stage,  then  her  coldness  thawed  most 
rapidly  under  the  ardent  passion  of  the  Romeo  who 
acted  to  her  Juliet.  This  was  the  gentlemanly 
Charles  Mayne  Young,  the  stately,  Greek-faced  rival 


JULIET.  13 

of  the  fiery,  dark-skinned  Edmund  Kean.  One  year 
after  their  first  appearance  together  as  Montague 
and  Capulet  they  were  married;  fifteen  months  later 
the  lady,  giving  birth  to  her  child  (afterwards  the 
Rev.  Julian  Young),  died.  For  fifty  years  her  hus- 
band  survived;  but  never  did  his  constant  heart 
waver  from  its  affection  for  his  first  love,  if  we  are 
to  believe  the  words  of  his  son.  Almost  his  last 
words  were,  "Thank  God,  I  shall  soon  see  my  Julia.'1 
But  now  we  are  reaching  a  Juliet  of  high  rank, 
the  elegant  Miss  O'Neill,  whose  external  advantages, 
according  to  one  who  knew  her,  were  merely  the 
mediums  through  which  her  internal  powers  dis- 
played their  brilliancy.  All  by  chance  had  the 
pretty  Irish  lass  obtained  the  opportunity  to  play  fair 
Juliet,  and  thereby  make  her  first  step  to  popularity. 
The  daughter  of  an  eccentric,  careless,  strolling  play- 
actor,  she  happened  to  be  in  Dublin  on  the  day  when 
the  leading  actress  of  the  city,  "  striking  "  for  more 
salary,  refused  to  go  on  with  the  play  unless  her 
demands  were  granted.  The  manager  in  disgust, 
rather  than  yield,  was  about  to  close  his  theatre, 
when  some  one  suggested  trying  the  unknown  young 
actress  then  in  town.  This  was  on  the  6th  of  Octo- 
ber, 1814;  and  Miss  O'Neill's  Juliet  of  that  night 
was  accorded  such  favor  as  to  lead  to  a  good  salary, 


14  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

and  ultimately  to  the  driving  from  the  town  of  the 
petted  favorite  who,  unintentionally,  had  thus  left 
open  the  door  for  an  unexpected  superior.  To  Lon- 
don then  went  the  Irish  player;  and  there  such 
wealth  poured  to  her  coffers  that  in  1819,  when  she 
married  William  Wrixton  Becher,  M.  P.,  later  bar- 
onet, the  generous  girl  was  able  to  settle  upon  her 
family  X 30,000  of  her  legitimate  savings. 

Miss  O'Neill's  Juliet,  to  Charles  Kemble's  passion- 
ate Romeo,  was  a  combination  that  overawed  any 
attempt  of  others  to  essay  the  part.  Macready  paid 
his  testimony  to  her  powers  when  he  noted  not  alone 
her  matchless  beauty  of  face  and  form,  and  the  spirit 
of  perfect  innocence  and  purity  that  shone  forth  in 
her  Juliet,  but  also  the  total  absence  of  any  approach 
to  affectation. 

"  I  have  heard  objections  to  the  warmth  of  her 
passionate  confessions  in  the  garden  scene;  but  the 
love  of  the  maid  of  sunny  Italy  is  not  to  be  measured 
and  judged  by  the  phlegmatic  formalist,"  declared 
Macready,  overjoyed  by  the  O'Neill's  Juliet.  "In 
the  second  act,"  he  added,  "  the  impatience  of  the 
love-sick  maid  to  obtain  tidings  of  her  lover  was 
delightfully  contrasted  with  the  winning  playfulness 
with  which,  she  so  dexterously  lured  back  to  doting 
fondness  the   pettish   humor  of  the  testy  old  nurse, 


rss 

r 

•  i':. 

*" 

1 

.&,:-■' 

MISS    O'NEILL    (LADY    BECHER). 
Engraved    by  J.  C.  Armytage. 


JULIET.  15 

and  in  rushing-  to  her  appointment  at  the  Friar's 
cell,  her  whole  soul  was  in  the  utterance  of  the 
words,  '  Hie  to  high  fortune  !  Honest  nurse,  fare- 
well.' The  desperate  alternative  to  which  the 
command  of  Capulet  that  she  should  marry  Paris 
reduced  her,  transformed  the  gentle  girl  at  once 
into  a  heroine  ;  and  the  distracting  contention  of  her 
fears  and  resolution  rose  to  a  frantic  climax  of  pas- 
sion, abruptly  closed  by  her  exclamation,  '  Romeo,  I 
come !  This  do  I  drink  to  thee !  '  Through  my 
whole  experience  hers  was  the  only  representation 
of  Juliet  I  have  seen." 

Miss  O'Neill  was  but  twenty-nine  when  she  re- 
tired,  and  her  peaceful  life  continued  until  1872. 
Long  after  she  had  left  the  stage  she  met  one  day,  in 
a  private  parlor,  the  Romeo  with  whom,  nearly  fifty 
years  before,  she  had  loved  and  died.  At  the  quick 
cry  of  the  white-haired  Kemble  of  seventy-five, 
"Ah,  dear  Juliet,"'  the  lady  of  the  Capulets  again 
embraced  her  Romeo  of  old  with  touching,  half-real, 
half -drama  tic  tenderness,  reminiscent  of  those  earlier 
days. 

It  was  as  Mercutio  that  this  famous  Romeo  of 
O'Neill's  day  appeared,  when,  Oct.  5,  1829,  his 
daughter,  Fanny  Kemble,  the  niece  of  the  great 
Siddons,  as  Juliet,   made   her  first  appearance  upon 


16  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

any  stage,  and  inaugurated  a  success  destined,  in  that 
very  first  season,  to  save  Covent  Garden,  the  theatre 
of  her  father,  from  bankruptcy.  As  in  the  days 
of  the  Pritchards,  so  now  the  Lady  Capulet  was  in 
truth  the  mother  of  the  Juliet.  Mrs.  Kemble  returning 
to  the  stage  after  an  absence  of  ten  years  simply  to 
perform  this  introduction,  and  then  to  retire  forever. 
This  interesting  relationship  of  characters  found  a 
parallel  in  the  early  history  of  the  American  stage, 
when  Mrs.  Douglass  played  Juliet  to  the  Romeo  of 
her  son,  then  a  mere  lad  of  twenty,  the  first  and  only 
time  that  the  two  lovers  of  the  cast  Avere  thus  re- 
lated in  real  life. 

In  her  own  "  Records  of  a  Girlhood."  Frances  Ann 
Kemble  has  narrated  the  sensations  of  her  debut :  — 

"  My  dear  Aunt  Dall  and  my  maid  and  the  theatre  dresser 
performed  my  toilet  for  me,"  she  wrote  ;  ••  and  at  length  T  was 
placed  in  a  chair,  with  my  satin  train  carefully  laid  over  the 
back  of  it,  and  there  I  sat,  ready  for  execution,  with  the  palms 
of  my  hands  pressed  convulsively  together,  and  the  tears  T 
in  vain  endeavored  to  repress  welling  up  into  my  eyes  and 
brimming  slowly  over  down  my  rouged  cheeks;  upon  which 
my  aunt,  with  a  smile  full  of  pity,  renewed  the  color  as  often 
as  those  heavy  drops  made  unsightly  streaks  in  it.  Once  and 
again  my  father  came  to  the  door,  and  I  heard  his  anxious, 
'How  is  she?'  to  which  my  aunt  answered,  sending  him  away 
with  words  of  comforting  cheer.     At  last  'Miss  Kemble  called 


.1  LILLET.  17 

for  the  stage,  ma'am,'  accompanied  with  a  brisk  tap  at  the 
door,  started  me  upright  on  my  feet,  and  I  was  led  round  to 
the  side  scene  opposite  to  the  one  from  which  I  saw  my  mother 
advance  on  the  stage ;  and  while  the  uproar  of  her  reception 
filled  me  with  terror,  dear  old  Mrs.  Davenport,  my  Nurse,  and 
dear  Mr.  Keely,  her  Peter,  and  half  the  dramatis  personce  of 
the  play  (but  nut  my  father,  who  had  retreated,  quite  unable 
to  endure  the  scene)  stood  around  me  as  1  lay,  all  but  insensi- 
ble, in  my  aunt's  arms.  '  Courage,  courage,  dear  child  !  Poor 
thing,  poor  thing!'  reiterated  Mrs.  Davenport.  'Never  mind 
'em,  Miss  Kemble,'  urged  Keely,  in  that  irresistibly  comical, 
nervous,  lachrymose  voice  of  his,  which  I  have  never  since 
heard  without  a  thrill  of  anything  but  comical  association  ; 
'Never  mind  'em!  Don't  think  of  'em  any  more  than  if  they 
were  so  many  rows  of  eabbages  ! '  <  Nurse  ! '  called  my  mother, 
and  on  waddled  Mrs.  Davenport,  and.  turning  back,  called  in 
her  turn,  'Juliet !  '  My  aunt  gave  me  an  impulse  forward,  and 
I  ran  straight  across  the  stage,  stunned  with  the  tremendous 
shout  that  greeted  me,  my  eyes  covered  with  mist,  and  the 
green  baize  flooring  of  the  stage  feeling  as  if  it  rose  up  against 
my  feet;  but  T  got  hold  of  my  mother,  and  stood  like  a  terri- 
fied creature  at  bay,  confronting  the  huge  theatre  full  of  gaz- 
ing human  beings.  T  do  not  think  a  word  T  uttered  during 
this  scene  could  have  been  audible.  In  the  next,  the  ball-room, 
I  began  to  forget  myself;  in  the  following  one,  the  balcony 
scene,  I  had  done  so,  and,  for  aught  I  knew,  I  was  Juliet ;  the 
passion  I  was  uttering  sending  hot  waves  of  blushes  all  over 
my  neck  and  shoulders,  while  the  poetry  sounded  like  music  to 
me  as  I  spoke  it,  with  no  consciousness  of  anything  before  me, 
utterly  transported  into  the  imaginary  existence  of  the  play. 
After  this  I  did  not  return  into  myself  till  all  was  over,  and, 
amid  a  tumultuous  storm  of  applause,  congratulations,  tears, 


18  SHAKESPEARE'S    HEROINES. 

embraces,  and  a  general  joyous  explosion  of  unutterable  relief 
at  the  fortunate  termination  of  my  attempt,  we  went  home. 
And  so  my  life  was  determined,  and  I  devoted  myself  to  an 
avocation  which  I  never  liked  or  honored,  and  about  the  very 
nature  of  which  I  have  never  been  able  to  come  to  any  decided 
opinion.  It  is  in  vain  that  the  undoubted  specific  gifts  of 
great  actors  and  actresses  suggest  that  all  gifts  are  given  for 
rightful  exercise,  and  not  suppression  ;  in  vain  that  Shake- 
speare's plays  urge  their  imperative  claim  to  the  most  perfect 
illustration  they  can  receive  from  histrionic  interpretation  —  a 
business  which  is  incessant  excitement  and  factitious  emotion 
seems  to  me  unworthy  of  a  man  ;  a  business  which  is  public 
exhibition,  unworthy  of  a  woman."" 

Juliet  was  the  second  character  Miss  Kemble  gave 
upon  the  American  stage,  when,  in  1832,  she  came 
here  with  her  father,  destined  to  win  not  only 
audiences,  but,  to  her  subsequent  unhappiness,  a 
husband,  Mr.  Pierce  Butler  of  Philadelphia. 

There  was  a  rather  amusing  little  dispute  de- 
scribed by  Mrs.  Kemble-Butler  during  her  experi- 
ence as  Juliet,  with  Ellen  Tree  (Mrs.  Charles 
Kean)  acting  the  part  of  Romeo.  That  was  in 
1829,  at  Covent  Garden.  Tall  and  broad-shoul- 
dered, the  long-limbed  Ellen  Tree  looked  the  part 
as  well  as  a  woman  could,  and  even  acquitted  her- 
self successfully  in  the  fencing  scene  with  Tybalt. 
But  when  it  came  to  the   clap-trap   performance  of 


JULIET.  19 

Romeo  seizing  Juliet  from  her  bier  and  bearing  her 
body  in  his  arms  down  to  the  footlights,  then  Miss 
Kerable  strenuously  objected.  She  would  have  no 
such  risk  run  with  her  rather  heavy  person.  Fi- 
nally, when  remonstrances  proved  in  vain  against 
the  determined  will  of  her  gymnastic  co-worker, 
the  irritated  Juliet  exclaimed,  "Very  well,  then, 
mark  this;  if  you  attempt  to  lift  me  or  carry  me 
down  the  stage,  I'll  kick  and  scream  till  you  set 
me  down.'1  And  Miss  Tree,  eying  her  fair  sweet- 
heart for  a  moment,  decided  that  the  latter  meant 
what  she  said.  Juliet  rested  comfortably  on  her 
bier. 

When  Macready  made  his  first  appearance  on  the 
stage,  it  was  as  Romeo  to  Mrs.  Young's  Juliet.  He 
acted,  too,  with  Miss  O'Neill  and  with  other  noted 
actresses  of  the  day.  But  to  him  there  was  to  come 
no  such  reputation  as  a  Montague  as  that  which  fell 
to  the  noted  leading  lady  of  his  theatre,  Helen 
Faucit,  as  a  Capulet.  She,  too,  made  her  dSbut  in 
"Romeo  and  Juliet."  It  was  in  1833.  before  the 
actress  had  herself  reached  the  age  of  Shakespeare's 
heroine  (for  she  was  born  in  1820),  that  in  a  curi- 
ous way  this  initial  performance  was  brought  about. 

Seeking  shelter  from  the  sun,  the  maiden  of  thir- 
teen, with  her  sister,  had  slipped  through  the  stage 


20  SHAKESPEARE'S    HEROINES. 

door  of  the  theatre  at  Richmond,  and,  seeing  no  one 
around,  had  begun  a  half-humorous  rehearsal  of  the 
balcony  scene.  But  the  manager  was  hidden  behind 
the  wings,  and  so  struck  was  he  with  the  admirable 
recitation  of  Helen  as  Juliet,  that  he  induced  her 
friends  to  permit  her  appearance  in  public  announced 
simply  as  "  A  Young  Lady."  Success  crowned  her 
essay.  Three  years  later  she  appeared  as  a  regularly 
enlisted  actress  at  Covent  Garden  ;  and  there  she 
continued  even  after  her  marriage,  in  1851,  to  Sir 
Theodore  Martin.  It  is  said  that  to  her  the  charac- 
ters were  always  real  personages,  and  that  Juliet's 
horror  of  the  tomb  carried  genuine  terror  to  her 
mind.  That  she  was  in  love  with  her  Shakespeare 
is  evident  from  the  fact  that,  rather  than  omit  the 
prologue  to  "  Romeo  and  Juliet,"  she  herself,  throw- 
ing a  silk  domino  over  her  dress,  used  to  speak  the 
words  before  the  tragedy. 

Up  to  1840  the  version  of  the  play  prepared  by 
Garrick  held  the  stage  completely,  and  even  after 
that  date  it  was  frequently  played ;  but  in  that  year 
Mme.  Vestris,  as  manager  of  Covent  Garden,  set 
the  good  example  of  presenting  the  original  text. 
Unfortunately  the  Juliet  of  the  cast,  Jane  Mordaunt, 
though  a  sister  of  Mrs.  Nisbett,  was  unequal  to  her 
role,  and  the  play  languished. 


JULIET. 


21 


The  Sadler's  Wells  revivals  of  1845  saw  as  the 
heroine  Miss  Laura  Addison,  the  actress  who,  Ameri- 
cans remember,  died  in  this  country  in  1852,  in  her 
twenty-sixth  year,  while  making  a  trip  from  Albany 
to  New  York.  Ellen  Terry's  Juliet  was  first  shown 
to  the  English  public  on  the  8th  of  March,  1882,  at 
Irving's  Lyceum  Theatre,  and  with  Adelaide  Neil- 
son's  Juliet  may  well  be  used  to  connect  the  stories 
of  the  British  and  the  American  theatres. 

The  least  of  her  successes  is  the  best  verdict  that 
can  be  given  Miss  Terry's  Juliet,  first  undertaken  at 
almost  the  same  age  that  Mrs.  Siddons  essayed  the 
part.  But  Neilson's  Juliet  is,  and  ever  will  be, 
famous.  Her  youth  and  her  rare  beauty  made  the 
character  charming  ;  her  sensitive  voice  thrilled  the 
listener,  and  her  passionate  enthusiasm  gave  to  Juliet 
an  ideal  warmth  and  fervor.  The  fact  that  Neilson 
glided  at  once  into  harmony  with  the  tragical  under- 
tone of  the  character,  indicating  with  seemingly  en- 
tire unconsciousness  of  its  existence  the  shadow  of 
the  terrible  fate  that  overhung  Juliet,  even  while  she 
was  prattling  to  the  nurse  or  dancing  the  minuet,  is 
held  by  that  careful  and  poetical  critic,  William 
Winter,  to  have  been  the  secret  of  her  successful 
impersonation.  The  actress  struck  at  once  the  key- 
note of  the   character  in  causing  the  prophetic  doom 


22  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

always  to  be  felt.  At  the  age  of  seventeen  Miss 
Neilson  made  her  debut  in  London  as  Capulet's 
daughter ;  and  seven  years  later,  1872,  her  Juliet 
carried  America  by  storm.  Preceding  her  on  this 
side  of  the  Atlantic  were  Mrs.  Duff,  Anna  Cora 
Mowatt.  Mrs.  George  H.  Barrett,  Julia  Bennett  Bar- 
row, and  Julia  Dean ;  and  following  her  have  come 
Mary  Anderson,  Modjeska,  and  Julia  Marlowe  as 
the  more  notable  in  the  line  of  Juliets. 

Mrs.  Duff,  a  bride  but  fifteen  years  of  age,  coming 
to  America  with  her  actor-husband,  made  her  first 
appearance  in  this  country  at  the  Boston  Theatre  on 
Dec.  81,  1810.  as  Juliet,  and,  though  she  failed  then 
to  render  the  impersonation  notably,  succeeded  later 
in  winning  high  praises  in  the  role.  Her  intensity 
was  so  marked  that  Edmund  Kean  once  asked  her  to 
modify  her  acting,  as  he  wished  his  efforts  seconded, 
not  rivalled.  One  brilliant  success  was  her  life,  till 
Fanny  Kemble  came  to  throw  her  from  her  pedestal. 
Then,  suffering  from  mental  aberration  after  her  hus- 
band's death,  this  Juliet  contracted  a  singular  mar- 
riage. It  may  have  been  the  effects  of  opium,  it 
may  have  been  the  hope  of  retrieving  her  financial 
troubles,  or  it  may  have  been  eccentricity,  that  led 
her,  as  the  story  goes,  to  reply,  "  With  all  my  heart," 
t<>  Charles  Young,  the  actor,  us  the  two  chanced  to 


ADELAIDE    NEILSON    AS    JULIET. 


JULIET.  28 

meet  on  the  street,  and  he  proposed  that  they  step 
then  and  there  into  the  registrar's  office  and  be 
married.  But,  whatever  the  reason,  it  was  said  the 
marriage  was  legalized  with  the  provision  that  it 
be  kept  secret  for  six  weeks.  Yet  Mrs.  Duff  after- 
wards repudiated  the  whole  affair,  claiming  that  she 
was  not  in  her  right  mind  at  the  time.  This  mar- 
riage was  annulled;  and  in  later  rears  Mrs.  Duff  be- 
came  the  wife  of  a  New  Orleans  gentleman,  Joel 
G.  Sevier.  She  died  Sept.  5,  1857,  no  one  of  her 
friends,  not  even  her  children,  knowing  of  her  de- 
cease until  years  afterwards.  With  her  husband  she 
had  ostensibly  started  for  Texas  —  and  the  world 
knew  no  more. 

Of  Anna  Cora  Mowatt,  the  society  actress  of 
1845-1854,  who,  unlike  many  of  her  successors  of 
to-day,  was  talented  as  well  as  successful,  it  will  be 
interesting  to  narrate  a  little  anecdote  which  she 
herself  told  about  her  Juliet.  The  property  man 
one  night  had  forgotten  to  procure  a  sleeping-potion 
vial  for  the  Friar  to  give  fair  Juliet.  Confused  at 
his  own  neglect,  the  man  hastily  seized  the  nearest 
small  bottle  at  hand,  and  gave  it  to  the  player. 
Juliet,  absorbed  in  her  character,  failed  to  notice  the 
style  of  the  vial,  and  returning  to  her  chamber,  dis- 
missed her  nurse,  turned  towards  the  audience  with 


24  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

the  words,  "  Romeo  !  this  do  I  drink  to  thee  !  "  and 
down  her  throat  poured  —  the  contents  of  the  promp- 
ter's ink-bottle.  She  was  astounded ;  but  the  spec- 
tators, seeing  the  dark  stain  on  her  lips  and  hands, 
simply  supposed  it  was  a  stage  trick  to  simulate  the 
quick  workings  of  the  poison. 

As  for  the  prompter,  nettled  at  the  loss  of  his 
writing-fluid,  he  rushed  to  the  side  of  the  actress, 
when  the  curtain  fell,  exclaiming,  "  Good  gracious  ! 
you  have  been  drinking  my  bottle  of  ink!" 

Whereat,  as  Mrs.  Mowatt  says,  she  could  not  re- 
sist the  temptation  of  quoting  the  remark  of  a  dying 
wit  under  similar  circumstances,  and  replied.  "  Quick, 
—  let  me  swallow  a  piece  of  blotting-paper." 

More  than  once,  Mrs.  Mowatt  confessed,  so  imbued 
with  the  character  of  Juliet  did  she  become,  that  she 
actually  thrust  the  dagger  into  her  flesh,  drawing  the 
blood.  As  she  soon  found  the  subsequent  sensa- 
tion anything  but  poetical,  she  finally  resorted  to  a 
blunted  dagger  for  the  scene. 

In  1844,  at  the  age  of  twenty-eight.  Charlotte 
Cushman  visited  England,  urged  thereto  by  the  en- 
couragement of  Macreadv,  and  in  the  British  Isle 
she  remained  five  years.  In  the  role  of  Bianca  in 
k-  Fazio  '*  she  made  her  London  debut,  Feb.  14,  1845, 
following  with  Lady  Macbeth,  Emilia,  Mrs.  Mailer, 


JULIET.  25 

and  Rosalind;  meanwhile,  as  she  herself  wrote  home, 
"sitting  to  five  artists."  Her  success  was  greater 
than  she  had  ever  dreamed  of  obtaining.  Up  to 
that  time  her  stage  career  had  been  a  hard  experi- 
ence of  eight  years,  her  fame  growing  only  by  con- 
tinued severe  work,  but  this  triumph  recompensed 
her  for  all  her  troubles. 

While  abroad,  Miss  Cushman  studied  the  part  of 
Romeo,  and  on  the  80th  of  December,  1845,  acted 
the  character  at  the  Haymarket  to  the  Juliet  of  her 
sister,  the  shrewish  Susan.  The  "American  Indi- 
ans," as  the  English  players  termed  the  two  ladies, 
won  the  stamp  of  favor  for  the  performance  with  a 
run  of  eighty  nights  in  London.  The  critics  even 
commended  Charlotte's  manly  way  of  fencing,  when, 
with  a  sino-le  blow,  indicative  of  the  force  of  indief- 
nation  in  the  soul  of  Romeo,  she  beat  down  the 
guard  of  Tybalt,  and  with  one  lunge  struck  him 
dead,  as  lightning  strikes  the  pine. 

In  America,  in  1850,  a  Juliet  to  Miss  Cushman's 
Romeo  was  Fanny  Wallack  ;  in  1851—1852  a  Juliet 
was  Miss  Anderton  ;  in  1858  her  Juliet  was  Mary 
Devlin,  then  making  her  New  York  debut,  and  des- 
tined two  years  later  to  become  the  wife  of  Edwin 
Booth;  in  1860.  Mrs.  D.  P.  Bowers  played  the 
Veronese.      Mrs.  Field,  the  original   impersonator  in 


26  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

America  of  Julia  in  "The  Hunchback."  and  the 
mother  of  Kate  Field,  the  well-known  journalist 
and  lecturer  of  to-day,  was  yet  another  Capulet  to 
( 'ushmaivs  Montague  :  while  Kate  Reignolds  acted 
Juliet  to  the  Romeo  of  the  great  tragedienne  on 
one  occasion,  and  the  next  year  herself  essayed 
Romeo  to  the  Juliet  of  Kate  Bateman. 

While  playing  with  Miss  Anderton  at  the  Na- 
tional Theatre  in  Boston,  Miss  Cushman,  during  one 
of  the  love  scenes,  was  obviously  disturbed  by  an 
artificial  and  derisive  sneeze  from  some  enemy  in 
the  auditorium.  With  all  the  dignity  and  deter- 
mination of  a  princely  character,  the  actress  at  once 
stopped  the  dialogue,  and  in  courtly  manner  leading 
her  Juliet  off  the  scene,  returned  at  once  to  demand, 
in  her  own  firm  voice,  "  Some  man  must  put  that 
person  out,  or  I  shall  do  it  myself."  The  audience 
cheered  her  pluck  to  the  echo :  the  disturber  was 
thrust  from  the  theatre,  and  the  play  went  on. 

Probably  to-day  the  last  surviving  Juliet  to  Miss 
Cushman's  Romeo  is  Mrs.  Anna  Crowell-Cruise,  who 
is  still  active  in  her  profession.  It  was  Miss  Crowell 
who  spoke  the  last  lines  ever  uttered  on  the  stage  of 
the  National  Theatre  in  Boston,  appearing  as  Mar- 
gery in  "  The  Rough  Diamond.*'  She  was  also  one 
of   the   company  that  played   the    last  piece   in   the 


CHARLOTTE    AND     SUSAN    CUSHMAN    AS    ROMEO    AND    JULIET. 

Tallis    Print. 


JULIET.  27 

famous  old  Federal  Street  Theatre  of  Boston.  The 
National  had  burned  shortly  after  a  performance  was 
ended ;  and  the  Federal  Street,  then  about  to  be  torn 
down,  was  given  into  the  charge  of  the  troupe  until 
the  engagement  was  completed.  Not  only  to  Cush- 
man's  Romeo  did  she  play  Juliet,  but  also  to  Fanny 
Wallack's,  and  a  fascinating  player  she  is  said  to 
have  been. 

When  the  lavish  expenditure  of  time  and  money 
had  brought  into  existence  that  magnificent  but  ill- 
fated  Booth's  Theatre  in  New  York,  the  Juliet  of 
the  gorgeous  opening  production  of  Feb.  3,  1869, 
when  Edwin  Booth  played  Romeo,  was  Mary  Me- 
Vicker.  Two  years  before  that  date  she  had  made 
her  debut  in  his  company  in  the  same  character;  four 
months  after  the  opening  she  became  the  actor's 
wife.  In  1881  she  died  in  New  York.  When  the 
curtain  fell  for  the  last  time  in  the  noble  theatre 
that  bore  Booth's  name,  April  30,  1883,  it  was  Mme. 
Modjeska,  the  Juliet,  who  spoke  the  final  words  upon 
the  stage.  The  same  playhouse  saw  an  odd  combi- 
nation in  May,  1877,  when  at  the  benefit  of  George 
Rignold,  lie,  as  Romeo,  had  six  different  Juliets,  one 
for  each  especial  scene,  —  Grace  D'Urfrey,  Fanny 
Davenport,  Ada  Dyas,  Maude  Granger,  Marie  Wain- 
wright,  and  Minnie  Cummings. 


28  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

Simply  as  a  "Louisville  young  lady,"  Mary  An- 
derson  made  her  first  appearance  on  the  stage  in 
Louisville,  Nov.  27,  1875,  assuming  the  character  of 
Juliet.  The  next  day  the  Courier  declared  that 
no  man  of  judgment  who  had  witnessed  Miss  An- 
derson's debut  could  doubt  that  she  was  a  great 
actress.  "  She  interpreted  the  very  spirit  and  soul 
of  tragedy,"  cried  this  critic,  who  was  then,  unknow- 
ingly, touching  the  key-note  of  laudation  that  was 
to  resound  year  after  year  throughout  the  country. 
Miss  Anderson  thrilled  the  whole  house  into  silence 
that  night  by  the  depth  of  her  passion,  and,  after  the 
scene  in  which  the  nurse  tells  Juliet  of  what  she 
supposes  is  her  lover's  death,  "  the  quick  gasp,  the 
terrified,  stricken  face,  the  tottering  step,  the  pas- 
sionate and  heart-rending  accents,  were  nature's  own 
marks  of  affecting,  overwhelming  grief."  Miss  An- 
derson owes  as  much  to  this  critic,  who  at  the  very 
outset  could  thus  outline  the  tone  of  later  writers, 
as  Miss  Neilson  owed  Mr.  Knight  for  his  first  dis- 
criminative commendation.  From  then  until  her 
retirement  the  character  of  Juliet  was  a  favorite 
with   Mary  Anderson  and  with  her  audiences. 

As  in  the  past,  so  in  the  future,  each  year  will 
undoubtedly  bring  ambitious  new  Juliets  upon  the 
stage  :  but  with  that  great  obstacle  confronting  them 


JULIET.  29 

which  oftentimes  has  been  quoted,  —  that  to  act 
Juliet  well  the  actress  must  have  so  many  years  of 
experience  as  to  prevent  her  looking  Juliet  ac- 
ceptably, —  the  roll  of  really  great  Juliets  in  the 
shadowy  future  will  not  be  longer  than  the  roll  of 
the  past. 


BEATRICE. 
(Much  Ado  About  Nothing.) 


The  whole  town  laughed  at  simple-minded  George 
the  Third.  He  always  enjoyed  the  pranks  of  the 
clowns,  and  took  no  offence  even  when  the  rash 
Parsons,  set  down  by  the  text  of  the  "Siege  of 
Calais  "  to  exclaim,  "  So  the  King-  is  coming1 !  An 
the  King  like  not  my  scaffold,  I  am  no  true  man," 
cried  out  instead,  looking  directly  into  His  Majesty's 
box,  "An  the  King  were  here,  and  did  not  admire 

my  scaffold,   I  would  say,   'D n  him,  he  has  no 

taste!'  No,  the  King  actually  roared  louder  than 
the  common  folk  in  the  pit. 

But  now  the  laugh  was  against  the  Kino-  in 
another  way.  The  funeral  of  his  uncle,  the  Duke 
of  Cumberland,  had  just  been  solemnized,  and  the 
mournful  pageant  was  still  in  the  eyes  of  the 
populace,  when  His  Majesty  commanded  the  play- 
ers to   present   in   his    presence  "  Much  Ado  About 

31 


32  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

Nothing."      No  wonder    the    merry   folks   over    this 
also  made  much  ado  about  nothing. 

It  was  this  same  monarch  who,  after  seeing  Hen- 
derson play  Benedick,  hade  Sir  Charles  Thompson 
carry  to  the  actor  the  King's  applauding  praise,  and 
assure  him  that  were  "  the  King  a  manager,  Mr. 
Henderson  should  perform  upon  the  same  stage  with 
Mrs.  Siddons."  But  the  King  was  not  the  manager, 
and  Henderson  failed  to  reach  that  goal.  They  tell 
a  story  of  the  famous  Henderson,  that  one  night, 
when  playing  the  gallant  lover  -  -  perhaps  to  the 
Beatrice  of  Miss  Pope,  or  of  Miss  Younge,  or  of 
Mrs.  Abington,  for  they  all  acted  the  rdle  with  him 
—  he  completely  forgot  his  cue.  Such  an  idea  as 
Henderson,  the  thorough  master  of  Benedick's  char- 
acter, breaking  down  had  never  entered  the  head  of 
Prompter  Wild,  and  so  that  worthy  had  negligently 
strolled  away  from  his  accustomed  place  to  chat  with 
a  friend  while  Henderson  went  on.  But  Henderson 
did  not  go  on.  He  stopped.  No  word  from  the 
prompt  table.  The  actor  began  the  speech  again  — 
and  stopped  at  exactly  the  same  place.  Still  no 
helping  voice  from  the  wings.  At  that  our  play- 
actor became  enraged,  and  loudly  called,  "Give  me 
the  word;"  whereupon  the  audience,  recognizing  the 
situation,    and    loving    more     the    actor    than     the 


BEATRICE.  33 

prompter,  showered  such  applause  upon  the  forgetful 
and  unassisted  Benedick  that  lie  was  compelled  to 
rise  from  his  seat  and  bow  liis  thanks.  Wild,  mean- 
while, had  hurried  back  to  his  post,  the  word  was 
given,  and  the  play  went  on. 

( )ne  of  Henderson's  Beatrices,  Mrs.  Abington, 
o-ave  o-lowino-  illustration  of  the  perennial  youth- 
fulness  of  her  profession.  In  1775,  at  Drury  Lane, 
she  was  acting  the  sparkling  Beatrice  to  Garrick's 
well-known  Benedick,  and  again  in  1797  was  still 
playing  the  rdle,  though  now  to  Lewis  as  a  lover. 
On  the  first  occasion  she  was  thirty-eight  years  of 
age;  on  the  latter  occasion  she  was  sixty.  "Nose- 
gay Fan,"  as  they  called  her,  the  daughter  of  a 
cobbling  soldier  and  the  sister  of  a  hostler,  was 
only  a  flower-girl  in  her  teens ;  but  she  lived  to 
set  the  fashion  for  the  noble  ladies,  and  to  be 
welcomed  to  the  highest  homes.  She  even  reached 
that  height  of  delight  -  -  for  a  woman  -  -  of  having 
the  "Abington  Cap"  named  in  her  honor;  and 
reached  that  height  of  favor  with  Sam  Johnson  of 
having  him  attend  her  parties  and  praise  her  jellies. 
As  might  be  expected,  however,  her  Beatrice  is 
applauded  more  for  its  wit  and  pertness  than 
its  good  breeding. 

Finicky    Horace    Walpole,    who    invited    the    ac- 


34  shakespeakf/s  heroines. 

tress  to  his  teas,  protested  in  his  own  crisp,  cavil- 
ling way :  "  Mrs.  Abington  can  never  go  beyond 
Lady  Teazle,  which  is  a  second-rate  character;" 
but  to  have  had  the  glory  of  being  the  original 
Lady  Teazle  was  perhaps  enough  of  honor.  Still. 
Boaden,  when  he  saw  her  first,  insisted  that  she 
was  "  peculiarly  qualified "  for  Beatrice ;  though, 
for  truth's  sake,  it  must  be  acknowledged  that  this 
same  warm  critic,  when  he  saw  her  acting  the 
role  at  the  age  of  three-score,  confessed  that  while 
iu  point  of  skill  her  playing  then  might  equal  the 
efforts  of  her  best  time,  yet  "she  had  enlarged  her 
figure  and  her  face  too,  by  time,  and  could  per- 
haps fascinate  no  one  without  the  aid  of  recollec- 
tion on  his  part."  "Alas,"  he  cries,  "she  is  no 
lono-er  the  glass  of  fashion  she  has  once  been,  but 
is  now  a  matronly  Beatrice,  whom  the  modern  cos- 
tume a  la   Grrecque  does  not  suit." 

There  were  only  two  famous  predecessors  to  Mrs. 
Abington  in  the  character,  so  far  as  the  record  goes ; 
Mrs.  Pritchard.  the  first  Beatrice  of  Garrick's  Bene- 
dick, and  Mrs.  Barry.  To  be  sure,  Mrs.  Cross  had 
acted  the  character  in  a  three  days'  revival  after  a 
thirty  years'  sleep,  and  Mrs.  Vincent  had  undertaken 
the  character;  but  we  know  little  of  them. 

Far  back    at  the   beginning,   when   "Much  Ado'- 


-■ 


.• 


N 


vK 


Ls 


MRS.    ABINGTON. 
From  a  Steel    Portrait  after    Cosway. 


BEATRICE.  35 

made  its  bow  upon  the  stage,  that  ••most  comical  and 
conceited  cavaliere,  M.  de  Kempe,  jest-monger  and 
vicegerent-general  to  the  ghost  of  Dick  Tarleton," 
was  the  original  Dogberry,  and  'tis  said  that  against 
Will  Kempe's  bad  habit  of  "  gagging  "  on  the  stage 
the  diatribe  of  Hamlet  to  the  players  was  designed 
by  the  great  author.  A  merry  fellow  was  this  Dog- 
berry of  old,  a  prankish  youth  who  could  walk  back- 
ward the  entire  road  to  Berwick  on  a  wager,  and 
travel  from  France  to  Rome,  dancing  all  the  way. 
Cowley  is  thought  to  have  been  the  original  Verges ; 
but  the  other  originals  of  the  play,  including  Bea- 
trice, lie  buried  in  oblivion.  Then  the  adapters  so 
often  "  improved  "  Shakespeare  as  to  leave  the  suc- 
cessors of  the  first  boy  actor  somewhat  doubtful. 
Sir  William  Davenant  deliberately  mixed  together 
"Much  Ado  About  Nothing"  and  ••Measure  for 
Measure  ;  "  while  a  lecturing  divine  of  Oxford  even 
borrowed  in  equal  parts  from  Shakespeare  and  from 
Moliere,  altered  the  names  of  the  characters,  and 
gave  the  world  a  nine  days'  wonder  (it  died  then) 
under  the  title  "The  Universal  Passion." 

And  now  we  come  to  Mrs.  Pritchard.  Excellent, 
indeed,  was  her  playing ;  so  fine  that  every  scene 
between  her  and  the  great  Garrick  was  a  continued 
struggle    for    superiority,    in    which     the    spectators 


36  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

could  not  award  preference.  Of  course  the  needle- 
fine  critic  was  there  at  the  play,  and  his  sharp  eye 
moved  his  pen  to  write  of  Beatrice's  ''uncharacter- 
istic corpulence."  But  yet  that  undue  size  could 
not  count  for  very  much  when  even  the  lovely  Wof- 
nngton  shrank  from  her  rivalry,  while  it  is  known 
that  in  Lady  Macbeth  she  was  Mrs.  Siddons's 
greatest  predecessor.  If  we  may  believe  Walpole, 
Garrick  hated  Mrs.  Pritchard  because  she  won  in  the 
contest  with  him,  by  giving  her  Beatrice  more  spirit 
and  originality  than  he  gave  his  Benedick.  He  him- 
self, always  painstaking  to  develop  carefully  each 
character,  devoted  sixty  days  to  rehearsing  and  im- 
proving his  Benedick  —  and  played  it  as  if  it  were 
spontaneous  at  the  moment.  His  distinct  expression, 
his  vivacity,  and  the  stage  manoeuvres  of  his  scenes 
of  repartee  with  Beatrice,  stamped  the  character  as 
among  his  best.  After  his  marriage  to  the  myste- 
rious dancer,  Mademoiselle  Violette,  —  who  was  hur- 
ried to  England  disguised  as  a  boy,  because  Maria 
Theresa  had  become  jealous  of  the  attentions  of  the 
Emperor  to  the  little  lass,  and  who  on  British  soil 
became  the  protegSe  of  the  Countesses  of  Burlington 
and  Talbot,  and  who  made  a  most  romantic  love 
affair  with  Davy  Garrick, -- he,  as  the  husband  of  a 
day,  when  the  whole  town  was  talking  of  his  mar- 


BEATRICE.  d( 

riage,  had  the  bad  taste  to  play  on  the  nhdit  after 
his  wedding  "  Much  Ado  About  Nothing,"'  amusing 
the  audience  greatly  by  his  allusions  to  Benedick, 
the  married  man. 

"Not  acted  these  twenty  years,"  read  the  playbill 
at  Covent  Garden  in  1774,  when  Mrs.  Barry  for  the 
first  time  played  Beatrice,  with  Lee  as  her  Benedick. 
Tragedy  she  played  to  please  the  town,  —  so  she 
said, --but  comedy  to  please  herself;  and  it  is  no 
wonder,  therefore,  that  her  Beatrice  was  full  of  life 
and  animation.  Yet  her  unfortunate  life,  told  in 
another  chapter,  would  not  seem  conducive  to  high 
spirits. 

That  same  Miss  Younge,  who  with  Abington  and 
Yates  gave  rise  to  the  couplet,  — 


"  Three  thousand  wives  killed  Orpheus  in  a  rage, 
Three  actresses  drove  Grarrick  from  the  stage,"  — 

played  Beatrice  well,  although  not  equal  to  Mrs. 
Abington,  and  helped  -well  to  torment  poor  Davy, 
though  perhaps  also  not  equally  to  the  Abington. 
The  rhymester  of  the  day  gave  a  glimpse  at  the 
bickerings  when  he  wrote:  — 

"'I  have  no  nerves,'  says  Y ge,   '  I  cannot   act.' 

'I've  lost  my  limbs,'  cried  A n,   ''tis  fact.' 

Y s  screams.  'I've  lost  my  voice,  my  throat's  so  sore.' 

(iarrick  declares  he'll  play  the  fool  no  more." 


38  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

There  was  a  Countess  of  Derby  once  in  the  role  — 
or  let  me  say  a  prospective  countess,  since  her  first 
appearance  as  the  dashing  Beatrice  was  as  Miss 
Elizabeth  Farren,  just  ten  years  before  the  Earl  of 
Derby  offered  her  his  coronet,  Horace  Walpole 
saw  her  act  the  part,  and  criticised  it  in  these  words, 
in  a  letter  to  Miss  Berry:  "  I  agree  with  you  in  not 
thinking  Beatrice  one  of  Miss  Farren's  capital  parts. 
Mrs.  Pritchard  played  it  with  more  spirit,  and  was 
superior  to  Garrick's  Benedick ;  so  is  Kemble  too, 
[as  Benedick]  as  he  is  to  Quin  in  Maskwell." 

What  a  strange  career  had  this  slip  of  a  girl, 
who  in  her  childish  days  was  helped  over  the  ice 
by  a  gallant  lad  while  she  bore  a  bowl  of  milk  to  her 
father,  the  locked-up,  strolling  play -manager,  one- 
time surgeon,  who  had  by  mishap  broken  a  local  law. 
The  lad  became  Chief  Justice  Burroughs  ;  the  lass, 
the  Countess  of  Derby.  She  danced,  and  then  acted 
into  favor,  until,  before  her  twentieth  year,  her  suc- 
cess in  what  we  now  call  '"•the  old  comedies  ?'  gave 
the  beautiful  girl  the  favor  of  all  London.  Tall  and 
graceful,  with  elegant  bearing,  attractive  voice,  and 
natural  ease,  she  made  the  fine  ladies  of  the  stage 
actually  fine.  She  might  have  had  for  a  lover 
Charles  James  Fox,  but  she  waited  until  the  rather 
grewsome  prediction  printed  at  that  day  was  to  come 


ELIZABETH    FARREN    (COUNTESS    OF    DERBY). 
Painted    by   Sir  Thomas    Lawrence,  R.  A. 


BEATRICE.  39 

true ;  namely,  the  prediction  that  when  "  one  certain 
event  should  happen,  a  countess's  coronet  would  fall 
on  her  brow."  That  certain  event  was  the  death 
of  the  living  Countess  of  Derby,  and  its  "certainty" 
was  prolonged  for  some  twenty  years.  The  Earl 
himself  was  an  amateur  actor.  Six  weeks  after  the 
death  of  his  first  wife  he  married  our  Beatrice  ;  and 
her  blood  now  flows  in  the  descendants  of  the  Earl 
of  Wilton,  to  whom  her  daughter  Mary  was  married 
in  1821. 

Rather  oddly,  two  other  countesses  are  to  be  reck- 
oned among  the  Beatrices  of  the  stage,  both  belong- 
ing to  this  period,  and  both  associated  with  Charles 
Kemble  in  the  play.  Louisa  Brunton  played  the 
heroine  of  "  Much  Ado  "  in  1803  to  the  Benedick  of 
Lewis,  when  Charles  Kemble  was  the  Claudio,  and 
Mrs.  Henry  Siddons  the  Hero.  Beautiful,  well-edu- 
cated, and  bright,  this  daughter  of  a  respectable 
theatre  proprietor  was  not  intended  by  her  parents 
for  the  stage.  But  her  Beatrice,  as  her  second  char- 
acter, meeting  with  the  same  success  that  fell  to  her 
Lady  Townly  in  the  "  Provoked  Husband,"  induced 
her  to  adopt  the  profession  for  four  years  at  least. 
Then,  in  1807,  the  seventh  Earl  of  Craven,  aged 
thirty-six,  and  Louisa  Brunton,  aged  twenty-four, 
niece  of  Col.  Richard  Brunton,  a  hero  of   Waterloo, 


40  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

were  married,  at  Craven  House.  It  was  her  niece, 
Elizabeth  Brunton,  who  married  in  1824  Frederick 
H.  Yates,  the  actor,  and  became  the  mother  of  Ed- 
mund Yates,  the  well-known  writer  of  recent  years. 
And  it  was  this  same  niece  who,  in  1817,  at  Covent 
Garden,  acted.  Beatrice  to  the  Benedick  of  Charles 
Kemble,  the  Claudio  of  the  cast  in  which  the  aunt 
had  appeared. 

Thirteen  years  later  Kemble  was  acting  to  the 
Beatrice  of  Miss  Foote,  the  Maria  Foote  who,  when 
but  nineteen  years  of  age,  captivated.  Colonel  Berke- 
ley, afterwards  Earl  Fitzhardinge.  His  loose  morals 
were  on  a  par  with  those  of  the  actress  who  could 
sell  out  her  acquaintance  with  the  noble  gentleman 
for  a  thousand  pounds  a  year,  and  afterwards  sue 
another  wealthy  gentleman  for  three  thousand  pounds 
on  breach  of  promise,  only  ultimately  to  become  the 
Countess  of  Harrington.  And  yet  on  the  stage  she 
was  the  image  of  pure  and  innocent  beauty. 

At  the  time  of  her  retirement  from  the  theatre, 
Thomas  H.  Smith  declared,  "We  can  scarcely  be- 
lieve that  the  beautiful  vision  has  passed  from  our 
sight  forever.  Will  she  no  more  cling  so  tenderly 
about  Virginius,  the  living  image  of  all  that  is 
daughterly  and  gentle?  Shall  we  not  see  her  again 
bend  silently  before  the  accusations  of  Guido,  like 


LOUISA    BRUNTON    (COUNTESS    OF   CRAVEN). 
Engraved   by  J.  C.   Aimytage. 


BEATRICE.  41 

a  fair  flower  stooping  beneath  the  rough  blast,  with 
which  contention  would  be  vain?  Is  comedy  entirely 
to  lose  the  most  delicate  and  graceful  of  its  hand- 
maidens,  and  tragedy  the  loveliest  of  its  sufferers? 
In  return  for  those  images  of  pure  and  innocent 
beauty  with  which  she  has  enriched  our  imagina- 
tions, we  wish  her  all  the  good  which  should  at- 
tend one  of  nature's  choicest  favorites."  Apropos 
of  this  reference  to  "  Virginius,"  it  may  be  stated 
that  Miss  Foote  was  the  original  interpreter  of  the 
daughter  of  the  old  Roman  when  Macready  brought 
out  the   play. 

In  1831  Kemble  played  Benedick  to  the  Beatrice 
of  his  own  daughter,  Fanny  Kemble.  Leigh  Hunt 
regarded  Charles  Kemble  as  admirable  in  this  part, 
and  praised  particularly  as  "a  bit  of  right  masterly 
gusto"  his  utterance  of  the  final  reason  for  marry- 
ing—  ••  The  world  must  be  peopled"  —  when  the 
actor  stood  with  his  hands  linked  behind  him,  a 
general  elevation  of  his  aspect,  and  a  sort  of  look  at 
the  whole  universe  before  him,  as  if  he  saw  all  the 
future  generations  that  might  depend  on  his  verdict. 
But  imagine  the  incongruity,  if  the  fact  were  not 
skilfully  hidden  on  the  stage,  of  a  father  old  enough 
to  have  a  daughter  who  could  play  the  heroine,  act- 
ing: the  lover  to  that  same  heroine !     This  heroine  of 


42  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

Miss  Kemble's  creation  Leigh  Hunt  pronounced 
very  clever,  though  satisfactory  rather  in  parts  than 
as  a  whole,  wanting  chiefly  the  flowing  and  perpetual 
vivacious  grace  of  Beatrice,  who.  like  a  girl  at  the 
top  of  her  school,  should  have  her  movements  run 
on  like  hertonq-ue.  The  vounq-  actress  created  a  veri- 
table  sensation  in  the  way  of  applause  by  her  half- 
good-humored,  half-peevish  saying  and  unsaying  of 
her  confession  of  love  to  Benedick,  wherein  she  ends 
abruptly  with  the  tearful  words,  "  I'm  sorry  for  my 
cousin."  Quoth  Hunt,  "With  a  few  less  peacock- 
like movements  of  the  head  and  gait,  and  a  little 
more  abandonment  of  herself  to  Beatrice's  animal 
spirits,  the  character  in  her  hands  would  come  very 
nearly  in  merit  to  that  of  her  father's  Benedick." 

Of  Mrs.  Jordan's  Beatrice,  which  preceded  Miss 
Kemble's,  Hunt  said,  "  It  sparkled  with  vivacity, 
possessed  a  laugh  and  heartiness  that  were  always 
inimitable,  but  wanted  the  air  of  o-ood  breeding1." 

Then,  too,  there  was  the  Beatrice  of  another 
Kemble,  Mrs.  Siddons.  But  though  the  queen  of 
the  drama  began  and  ended  her  regular  London 
theatrical  life  with  Shakespeare,  —  beginning  with 
Portia  in  1775,  and  ending  with  Lady  Macbeth  in 
1812, --yet  she  was  a  tragic  queen  for  the  most 
part,  and  rarely  tried  bright    Beatrice.      Her  brother 


MARIA    FOOTE.      (Countess  of   Harrington  ) 
Drawn    by   T     0     Steeden       Engraved    by   J     Rogers 


BEATRICE.  43 

Charles  also  began  and  ended  his  career  with  Shake- 
speare, playing  Orlando  in  "As  Yon  Like  It"  in 
1792,  when  but  a  lad  of  seventeen,  and  Benedick 
in  1836,  when  a  man  of  sixty-one  ;  both  times  the 
lover  impetuous  and  ardent.  It  was  her  Beatrice 
that  won  for  Mrs.  Siddons  the  favor  of  Henderson, 
when  he  came  down  from  London  to  act  a  few 
nights  at  Bath  with  the  young  provincial  player; 
and  his  praises  of  her  performance,  sung  in  the 
manager's  ears  in  London,  gained  her  the  offer  of 
that  fateful  London  engagement  of  1782,  by  which 
she  made  her  first  grand  bound  into  fame.  Of  the 
vital  points  of  her  Beatrice,  there  is  little  record ;  of 
one  bit  of  odd  gossip  Miss  Seward  writes,  when  she 
expresses  her  great  delight  that  the  famous  actress, 
called  before  the  curtain  after  "  Much  Ado "  at 
Birmingham,  first  courtesied  to  the  house,  and  then 
with  a  smile  of  favor  bowed  with  marked  prefer- 
ence to  Miss  Seward  and  her  friends  in  the  stage 
box. 

But  now  steps  upon  the  stage  of  "  Much  Ado," 
for  the  first  time  in  our  record,  an  actor  known  to 
both  England  and  America.  It  is  Macreadv,  that 
scholarly  and  thoughtful  player-manager,  who  to 
the  past  generation  stood  somewhat  in  the  same 
light    that    Henry   Irving   stands    to   this  :  and   like 


44  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

Henry  Irving,  Macready  could  not  make  of  the 
quick-minded,  merry  Benedick  a  thorough  success, 
compared  with  his  success  in  other  roles.  He  him- 
self records  in  his  diary,  under  date  of  Feb.  24, 
1843,  that  he  "  acted  Benedick  very  well  ; "  but 
although  he  did  display  great  humor  in  the  part, 
yet  it  was  held  by  discerning  critics  to  be  of  a 
dry,  caustic  sort.  His  chief  effect,  it  is  said,  was 
to  picture  "a  sort  of  matrimonial  theorist  —  ludi- 
crous from  the  gravity  with  which  he  supports 
a  favorite  hypothesis,  and  not  a  crotchety  individ- 
ual with  a  curious  temper  needing  amelioration." 

Yet  the  great  manager,  although  gradually  drop- 
ping comedy  as  he  advanced  higher  in  tragic  roles, 
still  clung  to  his  Benedick ;  and  in  his  farewell 
engagement  at  the  Haymarket  Theatre  in  1851, 
when  lacking  but  two  years  of  threescore,  played  the 
merry  lover  as  one  of  the  two  comedy  parts  he 
would  then  assume,  the  other  being  Mr.  Oakley 
in  "The  Jealous  Wife."  For  one  thing,  at  least, 
Macready  might  have  held  the  character  in  pleas- 
ant remembrance ;  it  was  his  Benedick  that  first 
gained  for  him  the  friendship  of  the  Twiss  family, 
who  introduced  him  into  the  best  society,  and  who 
gave  him   their  attachment  through  life. 

Alas,  how  the  critical    men    of   his  time  scorched 


BEATRICE.  4.") 

his  impersonation!  "He  clutched  at  drollery  as 
Macbeth  at  the  dagger,  —  with  convulsive  energy," 
wrote  John  Bull  with  scathing  force ;  while  the 
actor  James  Anderson  declared  that  the  general 
public  said  Macready  in  the  part  was  as  melan- 
choly as  a  mourning-coach  in  a  snowstorm. 

His  Beatrice?  Another  lady  of  rank  is  to  be 
added  to  our  interesting  list,  Mrs.  Nisbett  (Lady 
BoOthby),  who,  'tis  said,  made  an  admirable  Bea- 
trice, even  though  inclined  sometimes  to  indulge 
in  mirth,  when  by  seriousness  she  should  have  made 
the  audience  also  serious.  There  was  nothing  of  the 
pathetic  ever  in  Mrs.  Nisbett,  although  her  life  had 
seen  much  affliction.  Her  brilliant  eyes,  her  clear 
face  with  its  beautiful  oval  set  off  by  a  wealth  of 
dark  hair,  her  tall  but  sinuous  form  —  all  combined 
to  give  her  dashing  animation,  while  her  laugh 
was  the  type  of  merry  abandon.  At  the  age  of 
forty-six  she  died  from  the  results  of  domestic  af- 
flictions. The  daughter  of  a  lieutenant  in  the  Eng- 
lish  Army,  Louisa  Cranstoun  Macnamara,  by  family 
misfortune,  was  forced,  while  yet  a  girl  of  only 
thirteen  years,  to  take  up  the  stage  in  order  to 
earn  a  living1.  At  the  age  of  nineteen  she  was 
the  wife  of  a  captain  of  the  Life-Guards.  John  A. 
Nisbett,    who    himself    was    but    a    youth,   and    who 


46  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

before  lie  attained  his  majority  lost  his  life  in  reck- 
lessly trying  to  ride  a  horse  not  thoroughly  broken 
in.  The  courts  would  allow  the  widow  of  a  minor 
none  of  the  property,  and  she  was  again  forced  to 
the  stage.  But  before  she  had  reached  her  thir- 
tieth year,  Sir  William  Boothby.  ninth  baronet  of 
that  name,  sought  her  hand  in  marriage,  and  peace- 
ful life  seemed  once  more  at  hand.  Yet  only  a  brief 
period  passed  before  his  death.  Once  more  the 
widow,  seeking  her  first  love,  the  theatre,  found 
the  affliction  of  personal  ill  health  soon  compel- 
ling her  retirement  to  her  mother's  home.  As  if 
Fate  had  not  played  its  worst  with  this  beautiful 
girl.  now.  in  her  despondent  condition,  she  was 
obliged  to  face  the  successive  shocks  of  three  sud- 
den  deaths  of  nearest  and  dearest  relatives  —  and 
the  spirit  could  hold  out  no  longer.  Overworked 
mentally  and  physically,  she  fell  sick  on  a  Thurs- 
day, and  died  on  the  Sunday  following. 

Happier  the  lot  of  another  lady  of  title  who,  like 
Mrs.  Nisbett.  was  once  a  leading  lady  with  Macready. 
Helen  Faucit,  now  as  Lady  Martin  living  in  Eng- 
land respected  and  happy,  often  starred  as  Bea- 
trice, and  moreover  dared  at  the  age  of  sixty-nine 
act  the  part  at  the  opening  of  the  Shakespeare 
Memorial    Theatre    at    Stratford.     Six    months    later 


LOUISA    C     NISBETT.     (Lady  Boothby.) 
Painted   by  J,    G.    Middleton.      Engraved   by  J.   C.   Armytage, 


BEATRICE.  47 

(October,  1879)  she  made  her  last  appearance  on  the 

stage,  playing  Rosalind,  at  Manchester,  for  the  bene- 
fit of  the  widow  of  Charles  Calvert.  When  Edwin 
Booth  made  his  last  visit  but  one  to  England,  he  was 
invited  to  the  house  of  Lady  Martin,  where  the  en- 
tertainment consisted  of  a  reading  of  "Much  Ado,"' 
the  hostess  reciting  the  speeches  of  Beatrice,  and 
Henry  Irving  those  of  Benedick. 

As  the  Shakespeare  revival  of  Macready  at  Drury 
Lane,  Feb.  24,  1843,  through  Macreadv's  faithful- 
ness  to  truth,  saw  the  male  characters  costumed  for 
the  first  time  appropriately  in  close-fitting,  parti- 
colored suits  with  short  tunics,  while  the  women  also 
wore  the  proper  historical  dresses,  lovers  of  the  play 
can  thank  that  actor  for  the  help  he  gave  to  "  Much 
Ado  "  upon  the  stage. 

Charles  Kean,  too,  followed  this  example  by  giv- 
ing liberal  and  attractive  adornment  to  the  play, 
though  he  did  not  make  it  one  of  his  pageant  pro- 
ductions. At  the  Princess's  Theatre,  in  1858,  he 
opened  the  comedy  with  a  sunset  view  of  the  Port 
of  Messina,  the  king  of  the  heavens  gradually  dis- 
appearing in  the  west,  casting  its  declining  rays  on 
the  houses  and  the  ships,  to  be  followed  by  the  ris- 
ing moon  with  equally  striking  light-effects.  Then 
came  a  brilliant  masquerade  scene,  with  variegated 


48  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

lights  from  garden  and  bridge  lamps.  The  Friar  of 
Macready's  revival,  old  John  Ryder,  was  the  Leonato 
of  Kean's  ;  the  Hero  was  Miss  Heath,  afterwards  the 
wife  of  Wilson  Barrett,  Beatrice  fell  to  the  lot  of 
Ellen  Tree  (Mrs.  Charles  Kean)  ;  and  the  spectators, 
while  they  praised  it  in  entirety,  yet  could  not  help 
singling  out  for  special  admiration  that  scene  when 
Beatrice,  looking  saucily  into  the  face  of  Benedick, 
drawled  mockingly,  "  I  wonder  that  you  will  still 
he  talking,  Signior  Benedick  ;  nobody  marks  you/1 

When  she  played  the  part  in  America,  our  theatre- 
goers, too,  exclaimed  in  the  words  of  Joseph  Ireland, 
k"  She  is  inimitably  great  in  the  rdle."  What  enthu- 
siasm must  have  been  felt  over  her  performance, 
when,  twenty  years  after  having  seen  it,  the  remem- 
brance of  the  acting  so  clung  to  the  mind  of  a 
veteran  play-goer  as  to  lead  him  to  write,  "Her 
merry,  rollicking  laugh,  which  used  to  set  the  house 
in  a  sympathetic  roar,  yet  lingers  delightfully  in  my 
ears.  There  is  not  an  actress  on  our  stage  who  can 
express  the  gayety  of  Beatrice  or  point  Beatrice's 
wit."  That  merry  laugh  in  one  scene,  when  heard 
before  she  entered  the  stage,  was  so  joyous  that  it 
was  wont  to  set  the  whole  house  into  laughter  before 
the  actress  could  utter  a  word.  No  wonder,  too,  the 
theatre-goers    liked   Kean's    Benedick    while   he    was 


im 

|r    % 

""    "*/v> 

.v     J« 

n 

^f *  **■ 

■>/'v 

'•     ■'"-.■•'''; 

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ELLEN    TREE.      (Mrs.    Charles    Kean.) 
Painted   by   Sir  W.   C     Ross,    A  R.A.      Engraved   by  J.   C.   Armytage. 


BEATRICE.  49 

young,  when  one  recalls  that  even  after  he  became 
a  shrivelled  player  of  threescore  years,  who  could 
look  no  more  like  Benedick  "than  a  dried  herring," 
as  one  discourteous  writer  put  it,  yet  by  the  token 
of  the  same  critic,  the  actor  could  by  sheer  art  give 
even  then  the  best  Benedick  of  many  a  year. 

At  the  old  Park  Theatre  in  New  York,  Kemble 
and  his  daughter  played  Benedick  and  Beatrice  on 
the  25th  of  September,  1832  ;  but  the  receipts,  $657, 
were  the  smallest  taken  during  this  their  first  Ameri- 
can engagement,  the  largest  being  $1,520,  taken  six 
days  before,  when  "Romeo  and  Juliet"  was  staged. 
On  the  16th  of  January,  1893.  Fanny  Kemble  (Mrs. 
Butler)  died  in  London. 

We  are  coming  now  rapidly  upon  the  American 
productions  ;  but  before  dismissing  the  British  stage, 
let  us  record  simply  the  appearances  of  Miss  Grlyn 
and  of  Miss  Cooper  at  Sadler's  Wells,  under  Phelps's 
management;  of  Miss  Kate  Terry,  who  essayed  the 
rdle  in  1867,  on  the  very  eve  of  her  retirement  from 
the  sta^e ;  of  Miss  Amy  Sedo-ewick,  of  Genevieve 
Ward,  of  Miss  Neilson,  and  Miss  Ada  Cavendish. 
Mrs.  Mowatt,  too,  the  American  actress,  in  those 
days  played  Beatrice  to  Mr.  E.  L.  Davenport's  Bene- 
dick at  the  Princess's  Theatre,  when  Kean  was  its 
manager;  and  Mrs.  Sinclair,  the  divorced  wife  of  Ed- 


50  shakespeake's  heroines. 

win  Forrest,  acted  the  part  at  the  Hay  market.  A 
curious  experiment  was  tried  in  1872  at  the  Holborn 
Theatre,  when  Creswick  won  some  applause  from 
the  unthinking  by  the  freak  of  "  doubling "  the 
characters  of  Benedick  and  Dogberry  —  but  the  less 
said  of  that  innovation  the  better.  Let  its  memory 
die. 

Ellen  Terry's  Beatrice  is  now  both  England's  and 
America's.  Beginning  the  11th  of  October,  1882, 
she  played  the  role  two  hundred  and  twelve  consecu- 
tive nights  at  the  London  Lyceum  with  Henry  Irv- 
ing as  Benedick.  On  the  15th  of  February,  1884, 
the  two  made  their  bow  in  the  characters  in  America 
at  Haveiiey's  Theatre,  Chicago.  Not  in  the  leading 
rank  of  his  impersonations  does  Irving's  Benedick 
stand ;  though  as  he  depicts  the  manliness  of  the 
friend,  the  gallantry  of  the  soldier,  and  the  cour- 
tesy of  the  gentleman,  he  places  it  in  happy  mean 
between  the  extremes  of  Lewis's  restless,  dashing- 
coxcomb,  as  tradition  shows  it,  and  Macready's 
moody,  saturnine,  reflective  lover.  In  point  of  fact, 
Irving  rather  elevates  the  character  of  Benedick, 
and,  as  William  Winter  puts  it,  "  amuses,  but  is 
less  amusing  than  charming."  Miss  Terry's  Bea- 
trice, also,  is  elevated  in  its  tone  ;  and  her  archness 
and  mischievous  sweetness  are  of  the  highest  order. 


BEATRICE.  51 

"She  is  nothing  harsher  than  a  merry  tease,'1  writes 
Winter;  "and  in  the  soliloquy  after  the  arbor  scene 
she  drops  all  flippancy,  and  glows  with  tender  and 
loving  womanhood." 

The  American  stage  first  saw  Beatrice  on  the  18th 
of  March,  1789,  when  Mrs.  Morris  played  the  part 
to  Hallam's  Benedick  in  Philadelphia.  Tall  and 
elegant  in  person,  she  was  regarded  as  the  leading 
attraction  of  the  early  American  company,  even 
though  her  education  was  wretchedly  imperfect  and 
her  enunciation  bad.  She  had  a  queer,  mysterious 
way  about  her  that  seems  little  like  our  natural, 
frank-minded  Beatrice.  One  hobby  was  invariably 
to  wear  shoes  with  heels  so  high  that  the  utmost 
caution  was  necessary  to  prevent  her  pitching  over 
frontwards ;  another  eccentricity  was  her  dislike  of 
being  seen  by  the  public  in  the  daytime,  a  whim  she 
carried  to  such  an  extreme  as  to  have  a  little  private 
way  opened  through  a  neighbor's  garden,  so  that  she 
might  reach  the  theatre  in  New  York  from  her  lodo'- 
ingfs  without  joiner  down  Broadway. 

New  York  first  saw  -  Much  Ado,"  May  30,  1796. 
Mrs.  John  Johnson  {jxee  Ford),  the  handsome  young 
actress  of  fascinating  manners,  acting  Beatrice;  while 
Boston's  first  Beatrice,  of  the  season  of  1796-1797, 
was  Mrs.  Williamson,  a  vivacious  actress  "from  the 


r>2  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

London  stage,"  where,  as  Miss  Fontenelle,  she  had 
on  her  very  first  appearance  bounded  into  favor. 

Sad  was  the  career  of  a  Beatrice  of  182(3,  Mrs. 
Charles  Gilfort,  to  whom  "Gentleman  George"  Bar- 
rett was  the  Benedick,  at  the  Bowery  Theatre,  New 
York.  The  daughter  of  Joseph  G.  Holman  the  actor, 
she  made  her  first  appearance  at  the  Park  Theatre 
in  New  York,  on  October  3,  1812,  five  days  after  her 
father,  at  the  same  theatre,  had  made  his  bow  to  an 
American  audience.  Then  she  was  Lady  Townly, 
and  a  rare,  good  Lady  Townly,  to  her  father's  Lord 
Townly.  So  strong  did  her  position  become,  that, 
as  the  leading  comedy  actress  of  the  American  stage 
of  her  time,  she  was  able  in  1814  to  command  two 
hundred  dollars  a  night,  a  remarkable  amount  in 
those  days,  and  even  now  a  good-sized  guaranty. 
Three  years  after  her  debut  she  married  a  musician, 
Charles  Gilfort,  who  was  also  the  manager  of  the 
Bowery.  He  died  fourteen  years  later  a  ruined  man. 
The  widow  herself  died  in  poverty  and  distress. 

When  J.  B.  Booth  was  managing  the  Tremont 
Theatre  in  Boston  in  1828,  Miss  Clara  Fisher  (Mrs. 
Maeder)  played  Beatrice  to  the  elder  Wallack's  Ben- 
edick, just  a  few  days  before  John  Gilbert,  on  the 
same  stasfe,  made  his  debut.  Two  vears  later  Miss 
Fisher,  acting  the  character  to  Caldwell's  Benedick, 


BEATRICE.  53 

in  New  York,  received  from  the  Mirror  of  that  date 
a  discriminating  notice,  in  which  it  was  held  that 
though  she  was  correct,  interesting,  and  delightful, 
yet  she  was  not  by  nature  best  fitted  for  that  class  of 
work.  Her  swift  play  of  features,  rapidly  expressing 
chancres  of  emotion,  was  well  illustrated  in  her  Bea- 
trice.  "Watch  her  looks,"  writes  the  Mirror  critic, 
"  when  she  snatches  the  stanzas  from  Benedick,  the 
joy  and  triumph  beaming  in  her  eyes,  and  the  light 
of  successful  vanity  and  love  gleaming  altogether 
from  her  radiant  face  :  then,  when  her  own  verses  are 
produced  and  seized  by  Benedick,  mark  the  change, 
—  rapid  and  complete  as  the  workings  of  thought, — ■ 
and  then  the  gradual  yielding,  as  the  archness  and 
merriment  break  forth  again,  and  she  accepts  him  — 
out  of  pity,  "for  I  was  told  yon  were  in  a  consump- 
tion!' "  The  Beatrice  of  1828,  who  had  been  an 
"infant  prodigy  "eleven  years  before,  is  living  to- 
day, after  a  stage  career  of  seventy  years. 

Twenty-four  years  after  the  Boston  production 
Wallack  was  playing  Benedick,  but  with  another 
Beatrice,  Laura  Iveene.  The  actress  had  but  just 
come  over  from  England,  where  she  had  gained  con- 
siderable celebrity  at  Mine.  Vestris's  theatre,  and  on 
this  18th  of  October,  185*2,  had  been  seen  on  our 
stage  only  a  month.    Naturally  of  spirituelle  appear- 


54  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

ance,  with  her  slender,  graceful  form,  her  dark  eyes 
and  lovely  features,  Miss  Keene  often  dressed  in 
white  garments  to  heighten  this  effect  in  her  char- 
acters. Besides  cultivating  a  swift,  gliding  motion, 
she  also  possessed  another  strange  trick  of  contin- 
ually winking  both  eyes  in  the  expression  of  feeling. 
But  that  she  was  energetic  enough  was  illustrated 
by  her  action  one  night  in  her  own  New  York 
theatre,  as  narrated  by  Kate  Reignolds.  At  the  last 
moment  it  was  found  that  the  costumes  for  "Much 
Ado'*  were  not  ready.  Without  hesitation  Laura 
Keene  called  before  her  every  man  in  the  cast,  and 
then  bade  all  the  female  attendants  in  the  theatre 
sew  the  unfinished  garments  upon  the  people  they 
were  to  fit.  Still  time  ran  short,  and  the  curtain 
must  go  up.  With  humorous  originality  the  paints 
of  the  scenic  artist  were  seized  by  Miss  Keene  her- 
self, and  with  their  aid  the  decorations  of  the  lords 
and  attendants  were  added.  "Don't  come  too  near 
the  ladies,"  was  the  parting  admonition  of  the  man- 
aging leading  lady,  as  she  flew  away  to  dress  herself 
for  the  play. 

A  twelvemonth  before  Laura  Keene's  first  appear- 
ance, handsome  Julia  Bennett  Barrow  had  left  the 
British  theatre  to  win  fame  in  America;  and  in  a  few 
years    she   was  to  make  her  name  and  face  popular 


BEATRICE.  55 

here,  not  only  in  Beatrice,  but  in  other  attractive 
characters.  Mrs.  Conway,  too,  was  one  of  our  nota- 
ble Beatrices,  playing-  the  character  to  Wallack's 
Benedick  when  he  was  sixty  years  of  age. 

It  was  as  Beatrice  that  Charlotte  Cushman,  on 
Oct.  25,  1844,  made  her  farewell  appearance  in  New 
York,  prior  to  her  first  visit  to  Europe;  but  George 
Vandenhoff,  the  Benedick  of  the  cast,  records  in  his 
"Note  Book"  that  the  house  was  disappointed.  "A 
heavy  assumption  "  was  the  verdict  of  another  critic. 

The  beautiful  and  charming  favorite  of  the  stage, 
Mrs.  John  Hoey,  proved  an  excellent  Beatrice  when, 
on  the  14th  of  May,  1859,  she  played  the  role ;  and 
the  date  of  the  performance  is  worth  remembering, 
from  the  fact  that  it  marked  the  last  time  James  W. 
Wallack  appeared  on  the  stage.  He  was  then  three 
score  years  and  four,  and  had  acted  more  than  half 
a  century,  maintaining  to  the  last  his  courtliness 
and  vivacious  grace. 

Elegant  and  refined,  Mrs.  Hoey  (Miss  Josephine 
Shaw,  later  Mrs.  Russell,  later  Mrs.  Hoey)  was 
called,  by  those  who  knew  her,  the  personification  of 
all  that  was  bright  and  attractive.  Though  a  native 
of  England,  she  came  to  this  country  when  a  young 
girl,  making  her  first  appearance  on  the  New  York 
stage  in  1841,  at  the  National  Theatre.     Tn  1849  she 


56  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

joined  Burton's  Chamber  Street  Company  as  Mrs. 
Russell,  remaining'  there  until  her  marriage  to  John 
Hoey,  of  Adams  Express  fame,  in  1851,  when  she 
took  a  farewell  benefit,  June  13,  and  retired.  Three 
years  later  she  was  induced  by  Wallack,  on  the  se- 
cession of  Miss  Keene  from  his  theatre,  to  return  to 
professional  life,  and  on  that  stage  for  nine  years  was 
a  popular  leading  lady. 

Not  long  did  the  character  essayed  by  Adelaide 
Neilson  in  1874,  during  her  second  visit  to  America, 
remain  in  the  repertoire  of  that  actress  :  for  she  real- 
ized that  her  sphere  lay  with  the  romantic  heroines 
of  Shakespeare.  Clara  Jennings  played  the  part 
admirably  in  support  of  Edwin  Booth,  while  Mine 
Modjeska,  Fanny  Davenport,  and  Julia  Marlowe 
have  helped  carry  Beatrice  into  the  memory  of  the 
present  theatre-goer,  without  either  one  making  the 
eharacter  essentially  her  own.  The  comedy  acting 
of  Clara  Jennings  was  throughout  graceful  and  ele- 
gant; and  in  the  great  cathedral  scene,  she  rose  to 
the  situation  with  really  splendid  power.  Her  -Kill 
Claudio,"  meant  all  it  expressed  :  the  Benedick  that 
failed  to  seek  young  Claudio  after  that  would,  in- 
deed, have  been  faint-hearted. 

Marlowe's  Beatrice   is  a  child  of  the  sun,  not  of 
the   lightning.      It  shines  prettily  but  never  scintil- 


BEATRICE.  57 

lutes,  becoming  more  a  saucy  girl  than  a  keenly 
witty  woman-- and  is,  therefore,  not  Shakespeare's 
Beatrice.  Modjeska's  merry  but  too  poetical  Bea- 
trice, shrewdish  but  never  shrewish,  displays  a  vast 
love  of  wit,  but  at  the  same  time  a  constant,  under- 
lying womanly  affection.  Fanny  Davenport,  too, 
has  conceived  the  character  in  its  lightest-hearted 
mood,  divesting  it  of  the  shade  of  cutting  bitterness 
that  could  be  made  over-prominent,  and  emphasizing 
the  quick  witticisms  without  sign  of  unkindness. 
She  has  more  nearly  approached  the  ideal  than  her 
contemporaries. 

Yet  a  great  Beatrice  is  to-day  lacking  to  the  Amer- 


ican stage. 


HERMIONE   AND   PERDITA. 
(Winter's  Talk.) 


The  name  of  the  youth  who  played  Hermione 
when  Dr.  Simon  Forman,  at  the  Globe  theatre  of 
Shakespeare's  day,  became  so  impressed  with  the 
story  of  the  play  as  to  write  down  its  synopsis  in  his 
diary,  would  scarcely  be  a  matter  of  much  moment, 
even  it'  it  was  the  first  "inn"  of  the  "Winter's 
Tale  "  after  the  prompt-book  left  its  author's  hands. 
The  beardless  youths  who  then  took  <>n  themselves 
the  mimicry  of  ladies  fair  may  be  forgotten  with- 
out much  loss,  and  the  Hermione  and  Perdita  of 
that  month  of  May,  1611,  be  left  unrecorded  in 
the  memory.  But  around  the  actresses  of  later 
days  clings  an  interest  aroused  by  the  fact  that 
Miss  Mary  Anderson's  marriage.  June  17,  1890,  to 
Antonio  de  Navarro,  made  the  two  chief  characters 
of  the  play  her  farewell  roles  on  the  stage. 

Fairly  popular  for  a  while  after  its  initial  perform- 
ance,   the    "Winter's    Tale"    then     disappeared    for 

5<J 


60  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

nearly  a  century,  reappearing  on  the  15th  of  January, 
1741,  at  Goodman's  Fields.  Then  it  was  that  Miss 
Hippesley  danced  through  the  part  of  Perdita.  She 
was  an  actress  who  could  claim  rivalship  with  Kitty 
('live,  inheriting  talent  from  a  father  who  dared  play 
against  Garrick,  and  improving  her  natural  gifts 
even  after  she  became  Mrs.  Green,  so  that  she  won 
the  distinction  of  creating,  in  later  life,  the  charac- 
ters of  Mrs.  Hardcastle  and  Mrs.  Malaprop.  The 
Ilermione  of  this  January,  a  little  more  than  one 
hundred  and  fifty  years  ago,  was  a  Mrs.  Giffard,  a 
mediocre  actress,  but  the  wife  of  the  manager,  and  so 
the  recipient  of  the  plums  of  the  theatrical  pudding. 
Hippesley,  father,  a  little  after  this  time  was  play- 
ing the  Clown  at  the  first  production  of  the  play  at 
Covent  Garden:  but  the  Perdita  was  not  his  dauerh- 
ter;  it  was  Mrs.  Hale.  Hermione  was  "one  of  the 
most  beautiful  women  that  ever  trod  the  stage."  Mrs. 
Horton,  at  one  time  a  wretched  strolling  player,  con- 
tent to  picture  Cupid  at  the  country  fairs;  then,  in 
the  opinion  of  Booth  and  Wilks,  the  worthy  suc- 
cessor of  Mrs.  Oldfield;  then  so  lowly  as  to  receive 
the  offer  of  a  paltry  four  pounds  a  week  for  her  ser- 
vices, and  that  offer,  too,  made  out  of  pity.  From 
bottom  to  top,  and  then  down  again  on  the  profes- 
sional  ladder,  but  retaining  even  into  advanced  age 


HERMIONE    AND    PERDITA.  61 

her  singular  beauty,  powerful  to  bring  youth  and 
age  to  her  feet  !  Had  Mrs.  H  or  ton  been  a  player  of 
the  natural,  instead  of  the  stilted  school,  she  might 
longer  have  retained  the  place  of  honor  from  which 
Pee"  Wol'liiK'ton  and  Mrs.  Pritchard  drove  her. 
Pritchard  it  was  who  played  Paulina  at  this  Covent 
Garden  production. 

A  few  years  later  Mrs.  Pritchard  was  playing  Her- 
mione  to  the  Perdita  of  Colley  Gibber's  daughter-in- 
law,  for  whom,  'tis  said,  Handel,  in  admiration  of 
her  musical  talent,  arranged  one  of  the  airs  in  his 
Messiah  to  meet  the  requirements  of  her  voice,  before 
she  changred  her  ambition  from  the  concert  hall  to 
the  theatre.  Garrick  was  Leontes  ;  and  the  version 
used  then  upon  the  Drury  Lane  stage  was  his  "'alter- 
ation" of  the  play,  an  alteration  that,  in  its  effort  to 
avoid  the  incongruity  of  a  babe  in  one  act  appearing 
as  a  woman  in  the  next,  gently  dropped  out  half  the 
play,  and  to  dodge  the  maritime  question  changed 
Bohemia  to  Bithynia.  This  last  idea  Kean  imitated 
in  his  famous  revival  just  a  century  later. 

The  critics  and  gossips  of  old  said  that  Garrick's 
version  was  well  acted:  that  Mrs.  Pritchard,  whom 
Johnson  called,  a  vulgar  idiot,  because  she  said 
"  g-ownd,"  but  who  was  inspired  by  gentility  on  the 
stage,  was  excellent  :  that  Garrick's.  performance  in 


62  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

the  statue  scene  was  masterly ;  and,  in  curious  word- 
ing, that  "  Mrs.  Gibber's  neat  simplicity  in  singing 
a  song  made  Perdita  appear  of  the  greatest  conse- 
quence." Mrs.  Pritchard  could  then  better  play 
Hermione  than  she  could  the  light-footed  Perdita. 
since  her  stoutness  had  reached  that  point  where  it 
was  exceedingly  difficult  to  stoop  with  grace ;  as  was 
shown  to  humorous  disadvantage  in  the  ineffectual 
attempt  both  she  and  Mrs.  Olive  (suffering  from  a 
like  unflattering  fleshly  abundance)  made  in  reach- 
ing for  the  letter  dropped  on  the  stage  when  "The 
Careless  Husband'  was  performing.  In  the  char- 
acter of  Hermione  her  picture  was  painted  by  Pine, 
and  the  copying  print  of  1765  showed  strong  and 
expressive  rather  than  pleasing  features. 

Garriek's  version  kept  the  stage  till  Kemble  re- 
vised the  original;  though  a  benefit  performance  in 
1771  saw  Shakespeare's  work  presented  in  entirety, 
with  Hermione  cast  to  that  Mrs.  Mattocks  who 
would  have  shown  the  actress  even  under  the  in- 
fluence of  a  nunnery,  and  who  was  an  actress  for  the 
extraordinary  period  of  nearly  sixty  years.  Perdita 
was  cast  to  Mrs.  Bulkley,  the  original  Miss  Hard- 
castle  and  Julia  ("The  Rivals"). 

Beauty  was  almost  always  well  represented  in 
Hermione's  gracious  features,  if  the  olden  chronicles 


HERMIONE  AND  PEHDITA.  63 

are  to  be  believed.  Mrs.  Hartley,  who  played  the 
part  in  the  very  year  when  she  retired  from  the 
stage  (though,  to  be  sure,  she  was  then  only  of 
the  agfe  that  claimed  Miss  Anderson  at  the  time  of 
her  retirement  ).  was  pronounced  "  the  most  perfect 
beauty  that  was  ever  seen,"  with  voluptuous  loveli- 
ness that  drove  even  stage  lovers  to  real  adoration. 
The  Perdita  that  then  appeared  was  of  like  distract- 
ing prettiness.  But,  alas,  poor  Mrs.  Robinson ! 
Her  sad,  romantic  story  is  a  twice-told  tale,  vet 
always  affecting,  however  often  heard.  Born  in  the 
midst  of  a  terrible  storm,  her  life  never  left  the 
o-loom  of  the  clouds.  Afflicted  with  a  father  inatten- 
tive  and  cruel,  and  an  unloved  husband  dissolute  and 
neglectful,  little  wonder  the  homage  of  the  town 
turned  her  head  to  frivolity.  She  was  but  twenty- 
one  years  of  age  when  she  played  Perdita  at  Drury 
Lane. 

k-  You  will  make  a  conquest  of  the  Prince  to- 
night."' said  Smith,  as  he  stepped  forth  to  the  green- 
room, clad  in  the  garb  of  Leontes.  "  I  never  saw 
you  look   so  handsome  as  you  do  now'." 

His  chance  prediction  proved  too  true.  It  was 
Mrs.  Robinson's  first  appearance  before  royalty,  and 
naturally  she  was  very  nervous.  l>  I  hurried  through 
the  first  scene. "  she  says  in  the  record  she  has  left 


64  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

behind  her,  "not  without  much  embarrassment, 
owing  to  the  fixed  attention  with  which  the  Prince 
of  Wales  honored  me.  Indeed,  some  flattering  re- 
marks which  were  made  by  His  Royal  Highness 
met  my  ear  as  I  stood  near  his  box,  and  J  was  over- 
whelmed  with  confusion.  The  Prince's  particular 
attention  was  observed  by  every  one,  and  I  was  again 
rallied  at  the  end  of  the  play.  On  the  last  courtesy 
the  royal  family  condescendingly  returned  a  bow  to 
the  performers  ;  but  just  as  the  curtain  was  falling, 
my  eyes  met  those  of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  and  with 
a  look  that  1  shall  never  forget,  he  gently  inclined 
his  head  a  second  time.  I  felt  the  compliment,  and 
blushed  my  gratitude.  As  I  was  going  to  my  chair, 
I  again  met  the  royal  family  crossing  the  stage.  I 
was  again  honored  with  a  very  marked  and  low  bow 
from  the  Prince  of  Wales." 

Next  comes  Lord  Maiden,  as  a  go-between,  bring- 
ing from  the  Prince  a  note  addressed  to  "  Perdita," 
and  signed  ki  Florizel ;  "  and  after  that,  letter  upon 
letter  reaches  her  hands,  all  brimming  with  pledges 
of  undying  love.  Perdita*s  husband,  meanwhile, 
stands  aloof,  perfectly  indifferent  to  her.  She  be- 
comes so  nettled  at  his  actions,  as  well  as  touched 
by  the  apparent  devotion  of  the  most  admired  and 
most  accomplished  Prince  of  Europe,  as  to  consent 


MRS.    MARY    ROBINSON. 


HERMI0NI3    AND    PERDITA.  65 

to  a  set-ret  meeting  at  Kew.  This  is  followed  by 
other  meetings,  then  l>v  her  retirement  from  the 
stage,  and  then,  naturally,  to  gossip  in  the  public 
prints,  and  to  notoriety  that  overwhelms  her  when- 
ever she  appears  on  the  street.  The  Prince,  to 
bind  her  closer  as  he  thinks,  gives  her  a  bond  for 
twenty  thousand  pounds,  to  be  paid  upon  his  coin- 
ing of  age;  but  this,  she  declared  afterwards,  was  a 
total  surprise,  as  the  idea  of  pecuniary  interest  had 
never  entered  her  mind.  It  need  not  have  been 
considered  deeply,  as  she  found  to  her  cost;  for 
when  her  royal  admirer,  for  court  reasons,  broke 
off  his  alliance  with  fair  Perdita,  the  bond  was 
shown  to  be  of  little  value,  and  was  ultimately 
surrendered  in  consideration  of  an  annuity  of  live 
hundred  pounds.  At  the  ao-e  of  twenty-four,  the 
unfortunate  woman  became  a  cripple,  and  two  years 
later  passed  away. 

And  now  we  find  in  the  "Winter's  Tale'  Miss 
Farren,  tall,  beautiful  in  face,  and  elegant  in  person, 
though  in  figure  far  the  opposite  to  Mrs.  Pritchard, 
perhaps  too  far;  an  actress  whose  fate  was  to  be  more 
happy  than  poor  Mrs.  Robinson's,  since  she  not  only 
won  her  nobleman,  but  married  him.  And  there 
was  Mrs.  Yates,  whose  tragic  power  was  so  great 
as  to  frighten  every  actress  except   Mrs.  Pope  from 


(36  shakespeare'h  heroines. 

attempting  Medea  against  her,  but  whose  comedy 
power  was  an  absent  quality,  to  use  a  phrase  that 
borders  on  the  "bull."  Of  her  Hermione,  Campbell 
writes:  "Mrs.  Yates  had  a  sculpturesque  beauty 
that  suited  the  statue  as  long  as  it  stood  still:  hut 
when  she  had  to  speak,  the  charm  was  broken,  and 
the  spectators   wished  her  back  to  her  pedestal." 

Hermione  also  fell  to  the  lot  of  Mrs.  Pope,  who 
played  against  Mrs.  Yates's  Medea,  and  who  is  more 
interesting  from  having  played  Portia  to  Macklin's 
last  character,  his  Shylock,  when  the  poor  old  man 
lost  his  memory,  and  Cordelia  to  the  last  Lear  of 
Garrick. 

One  of  Miss  Farren's  glories  was  that  of  creating 
the  character  of  Rosara  in  the  "Barber  of  Seville:" 
a  remembrance  which  might,  indeed,  have  lost  its 
pleasure,  had  the  side  lights  that  one  night  set  Ro- 
sara's  dress  in  a  blaze  carried  her  to  death.  For- 
tunately Jack  Bannister  extinguished  the  lire  with 
his  Spanish  coat.  Miss  Farren's  Perdita  was  that 
frail  creature.  Mrs.  Crouch:  and  Mrs.  Pope's  first 
Perdita  was  Mrs.  Mountain,  an  actress  whose  as- 
sumed characters  strongly  resembled  Mrs.  Crouch's 
in  acting  and  singing,  but  whose  real  character 
strongly  contrasted  with  the  other  fair  one's.  An- 
other  Perdita  to  Mrs.  Pope's  Hermione  was  chiefly 


HERMIONE    AND    PERDITA,  67 

noteworthy  for  the  difference  the  married  state  made 
in  her  popularity, — as  Miss  Wallis  she  was  a  favor- 
ite;  as  Mrs.  Campbell  she  was  a  broken  idol. 

With  the  dawning  of  the  nineteenth  century 
Shakespeare's  entire  play  returned  to  the  stage,  driv- 
ing1 out  the  mutilated  fragment  by  Garrick,  and  that 
still  worse  arrangement  by  Morgan  which  held  the 
stage  at  times  between  1754  and  17(J8.  and  in  which 
the  play  was  reduced  to  a  two-act  afterpiece  under 
the  title  of  "  The  Sheep-Shearing,  or  Florizel  and 
Perdita."  One  of  the  most  interesting  heroines  of 
"The  Sheep-Shearing"  was  the  fair  and  delicate 
Miss  Nossiter,  who  fell  in  love  with  handsome 
Spranger  Barry,  and  though  all  the  town  was  in 
the  secret,  did  not  hesitate  to  display  her  real  affec- 
tion when  her  lover  played  the  princely  Florizel. 

The  great  revival  of  the  "  Winter's  Tale  "  at  Drury 
Lane  saw  a  notable  cast:  John  P.  Kemble  as  Leontes, 
Charles  Kemble  as  Florizel,  Miss  Hickes  (for  the 
first  time  on  any  stage)  as  Perdita,  and  Mrs.  Siddons 
(for  the  first  time  in  this  character)  as  Hermione. 
Of  Miss  Hickes.  however,  comment  is  not  enthusi- 
astic. Boaden  some  years  later  declared,  "the  Per- 
dita was  a,  very  delicate  and  pretty  young  lady 
of  the  name  of  Hickes --this  much  I  remember  of 
her;   but  whether  she    had   more  or    fewer  requisites 


68  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

than  other  candidates  for  this  lovely  character   I   am 
now  unable  to  decide." 

Again  and  again  the  play  was  repeated,  until  at 
Coveut  Garden  Theatre,  on  the  25th  of  June,  in 
the  year  1812,  grand  Mrs.  Siddons  appeared  for  the 
last  time  as  Sicily's  Queen,  just  four  days  before  her 
farewell  of  the  stage.  She  played  Isabella  (-Meas- 
ure for  Measure"),  Bel  vide  ra,  and  Lady  Macbeth  on 
the  succeeding  days,  and  with  the  latter  character 
made  her  formal  exit  from  professional  life,  although 
she  returned  for  a  few  scattered  performances  in 
after  years.  She  "looked  the  statue,"  says  Camp- 
bell, "even  to  literal  illusion:  and  whilst  its  dra- 
peries hid  her  lower  limbs,  it  showed  a  beauty  of 
head,  neck,  shoulders,  and  arms  that  Praxiteles  might 
have  studied.*'  The  words  of  Boaden,  picturing  her 
conception  with  more  detail,  declare  she  "stood,  one 
of  the  noblest  statues  that  even  Grecian  taste  ever 
invented.  Upon  the  magical  words  by  Paulina, 
'Music,  awake  her:  strike!'  the  sudden  action  of 
the  head  absolutely  startled,  as  though  such  a  mir- 
acle had  really  vivified  the  statue;  and  the  descent 
from  the  pedestal  was  equally  graceful  and  affect- 
ing." 

One   evening  while    Mrs.    Siddons  was   posing   as 
the    statue,    her    long,    flowing    drapery    caught    fire 


HERMIONE    AND    PERDITA.  69 

from  a  stage-lamp.  Quick  as  thought  a  scene-shifter 
rushed  to  her  side,  and  with  a  ready  and  unfearing 
hand  extinguished  the  blaze,  saving  the  great  actress 
from  disfigurement,  perhaps  from  death.  That  she 
appreciated  the  danger  and  the  worth  of  the  rescue 
was  evident:  for  her  purse  overflowed  its  gold  into 
the  pocket  of  the  poor  stage-worker,  and  better  still, 
her  aid  helped  to  save  his  son,  a  deserter  from  the 
army,  from  severity  of  punishment.  The  shock  of 
the  occurrence  never  faded  from  the  mind  of  the 
actress;  whenever,  after  that,  the  "'Winter's  Tale" 
was  mentioned,  it  caused  her  an  uncontrollable 
shudder. 

Mrs.  Siddons's  successor  in  the  role  was  Miss 
Somerville.  afterward  Mrs.  Bunn,  that  actress  whose 
initial  performance,  but  for  her  undoubted  talent, 
would  have  been  spoiled  through  the  malignity  of 
Kean's  action  when,  after  the  manner  of  a  crafty  old 
stager,  he  persisted  in  taking  his  position  back  of 
the  young  debutante,  compelling  her  constantly  to 
turn  her  face  away  from  the  audience.  This  was  a 
trick  of  Macready  also,  of  whose  action  Punch  said 
that  it  supposed  he  thought  Miss  Helen  Faucit  had 
a  verv  handsome  back,  for  when  on  the  stao-e  with 
her  he  always  managed  that  the  audience  should  see 
it  and  little  else. 


7<»  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

Our  ambitious  Miss  Somerville,  though  but  nine- 
teen years  of  age  when  she  played  Hermione,  yet 
was  of  fully  matured  figure  -  -  in  fact,  the  story  ex 
ists  that  Kean,  with  effrontery,  refused  to  act  with 
this  same  well-developed  young  lady,  except  in  one 
play,  because  she  was  ••  too  big  for  him.*"  Yet  Mrs. 
Somerville-Bunn  was  not  "too  big"  for  Macready 
to  play  Leontes  to  her  Hermione  some  four  or  five 
years  later,  when  that  tragedian  for  the  first  time  in 
London  acted  the  part  of  the  jealous  and  tyrannical 
husband.  It  was  then.  too.  that  Wallack  gave  his 
first  impersonation  of  Florizel,  and  then  that  Mrs. 
W.  West,  another  of  the  paragons.  "  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  women  the  British  stage  can  boast  of," 
pictured  Perdita  for  the  first  time. 

The  Covent  Garden  Hermione  of  four  years  later 
date  was  that  Mrs.  Faucit  whose  queen  was  termed 
most  brilliant,  and  who  received  the  very  high  praise 
that  "since  the  retirement  of  Mrs.  Siddons  no  ac- 
tress has  exceeded  our  heroine  in  representations  of 
majesty."  Tall,  and  of  voluptuous  figure,  with  a 
charming,  even  if  not  strikingly  handsome  face,  she 
made  a  superb  picture  of  Hermione.  The  Perdita 
of  that  date  was  Miss  Jarman.  a  lady  with  a  lisp 
and  an  unconquerable  desire  to  play  parts  for  which 
she  was  not  fitted. 


MRS.    W.    WEST. 
Painted    by   Stump.      Engraved   by  J.    Thomson. 


HERMIONE    AND    PERDITA.  71 

A  little  less  than  ten  years  later.  Mrs.  Faucit  was 
playing  Paulina  in   the   -  Winter's   Tale."*    while    in 
the    same    decade,    though    at    another    theatre,    her 
daughter,  Helen  Faucit,  was  sustaining  the  role  that 
her   mother    once    had    tilled.     Helen    Faucit    (now 
Lady  Martin  )   was  one  of  the   few  Hermiones  who 
by  reason   of    youth   seemed   better  adapted  for  the 
part  of  Perdita.     She  was  at  that  time  but  seventeen 
years  of  age,  and  had  enjoyed    barely  two  years  of 
stage    experience.      Macready,  when    he    leased  Co- 
vent  Garden,  engaged  her  services;  and  on  the  open- 
ino-  of   that  house,   when   the   actor-manager,  as  he 
records    in    his   Reminiscences,    "acted    Leontes    ar- 
tist-like, but  not  until  the  last  act  very  effectively," 
the  graceful,  sympathetic  young  actress  played  Her- 
mione.     Her    impersonations,   years    ago,    were    pro- 
nounced   as    nature    itself    in    its    finest    and    most 
beautiful  aspect,  and  her   Hermione  accorded  a  suc- 
cess.    In  1837  and  1838  Paulina  was  Miss  Huddart 
(Mrs.    Warner),   who  made  known   the  character  of 
Hermione  to  American  theatre-goers  of  three  or  four 
decades  ago.     The    accompanying   Perdita  of  1838, 
Miss  Vandenhoff.  was  the  daughter  of  John  Vanden- 
hoff,   who   on    this   latter   occasion   took    Macready's 
place   in    the  leading  male   role.     Miss  Vandenhoff, 
we  are  told,  was  a  woman  of  -handsome  and  expres- 


72  SHAK  ES I '  E  A  RE'S    H  E  R  0  r  NES. 

sive  features,  dazzling  fairness  of  complexion,  and  a 
manner  perfectly  graceful  and  natural." 

An  earlier  Hermione  to  Macready's  Leontes  was 
Mrs.  Sloman,  a  coldly  classical  performer,  whose  his- 
tory is  uninteresting  to  Americans,  save  in  the  fact 
that  she  twice  visited  this  country,  only  to  find  that 
during  the  interval  of  ten  years  she  had  heen  almost 
forgotten,  and  her  popularity  hecome  a  thing  of  the 
past.  Her  granddaughter  still  survives,  living  in 
Brooklyn,  N.Y.,  where  she  has  made  a  position 
in  the  world  of  mnsic. 

The  productions  by  Macready,  by  Phelps,  and  by 
Charles  Kean  have  been  true  glories  in  the  history  of 
the  play  since  the  day  of  the  Kembles.  Isabel  Glyn 
(Mrs.  E.  S.  Dallas),  one  of  the  Ilermiones  at  Sadler's 
Wells,  during  that  wonderful  series  of  revivals  when 
all  but  six  of  Shakespeare's  works  were  reproduced. 
died  in  England  on  the  eighteenth  of  May,  1889, 
at  the  age  of  three-score  years  and  six.  Twenty 
years  after  the  performance  under  the  management 
of  Phelps,  just  as  she  was  retiring  from  the  stage, 
Mrs.  Glyn-Dallas  repeated  her  Hermione  at  the 
Standard  Theatre.  Bishopsgate.  and  then  turned  to 
America  for  a  time,  here  reading  selections  in  one 
of  her  best  characters,  Cleopatra. 

Following  Miss  Glyn  as  Hermione  at  the  famous 


HERMIONE    AM)    PERDITA.  73 

Sadler's  Wells  came  an  actress  '*  in  the  alarm  of  fear 
caught  up."  Manager  Phelps,  at  his  wits'  end  to 
find  a  new  heavy-tragedy  lady,  without  a  minute's 
hesitation  accepted  the  advice  of  his  prompter  when 
that  Fidus  Achates  of  all  stage  heroes  and  heroines, 
and  villains  as  well,  recommended  a  certain  Miss  At- 
kinson. Phelps's  first  dismay  can  be  conceived  when 
lie  found  the  young  lady  not  only  homely  in  face, 
but  entirely  destitute  of  elementary  education;  yet 
he  liked  her  tall,  stately  figure,  and  soon  discovered 
that  those  plain  features  were  remarkably  expressive. 
Assiduously  coaching  this  illiterate  but  crudely  tal- 
ented player,  he  made  of  her  an  actress  capable  of 
sustaining  with  success  such  roles  as  Lady  Macbeth 
and  Queen  Katharine,  as  well  as  Ilermione. 

To  her  belongs  the  distinction  of  being  the  original 
Duchess  in  Tom  Taylor's  -  Fool's  Revenge,"  just 
as  to  Frederic  Robinson,  now  so  well  known  to  the 
American  stage,  belongs  the  distinction  of  being  the 
original  Dell'  Aquila  of  the  same  play.  It  was  Mr. 
Robinson  who  played  Florizel  in  the  '*  Winter's 
Tale '  revival  thirty  and  more  years  ago,  when 
the  Hermione  was  Miss  Atkinson,  and  the  Perdita 
was  Miss  Jenny  Marston,  an  ambitious  little  ju- 
venile lady,  whose  mother  was  the  Paulina  in  the 
production,  and  whose  father,  Henry  Marston,  was 


74  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

for  a  long  time  a  well-known  figure  on  the  London 
stage. 

The  Princess's  production  of  April  28,  1856,  saw 
an  elaborate  setting  of  the  "  Winter's  Tale,"  with 
costly  Greek  antiquities  and  superb  scenery.  Mrs. 
Charles  Kean's  (Ellen  Tree's)  Hermione  was  pro- 
nounced full  of  womanly  p-entleness  and  tenderness. 
Her  first  appearance  in  the  character  had  been  made 
under  Alfred  Bunn's  management  at  Drury  Lane, 
twenty-one  years  before,  when  Macready  played 
Leontes  ;  Mrs.  Yates,  Perdita  ;  and  Mrs.  Faucit, 
Paulina.  Ellen  Tree  was  then  thirty  years  of  age. 
At  the  Princess's  production,  Mr.  Kean  was  Leontes, 
Carlotta  Leclercq  was  Perdita,  and  Miss  Heath  (af- 
terward Mrs.  Wilson  Barrett)  was  Florizel,  that 
being  the  first  time  the  character  of  the  princely 
lover  was  ever  given  to  a  woman.  The  Mamillius 
of  1856  was  a  child,  then  making  her  first  appear- 
ance on  the  stage,  now  known  as  the  leading  actress 
of  England,  Miss  Ellen   Terry. 

The  last  Hermione  on  the  London  stage,  previous 
to  Miss  Anderson,  was  Miss  Ellen  Wallis.  She  took 
part  in  Chatterton's  attempted  reproduction  of  Kean's 
arrangement  at  the  reopening  of  Drury  Lane  in  1878; 
but  her  acting  was  not  entirely  satisfactory,  and  the 
production  itself  proved  a  total  failure.      She,   like 


HERMIONE    AND    PERDITA.  75 

her  predecessor  Mrs.  Giffard,  became  a  manager's 
wife,  and  is  known  to  the  London  stage  as  Mrs. 
Lancaster-Wallis,  of  the  Shaftesbury  Theatre. 

Few    indeed    have    been    the    productions    of    the 
"Winter's  Tale"  that  America  lias  viewed,  and  the 
two    performances    previous    to    Burton's    day   were 
onlv    sino-le-nio'ht    benefits.     Mrs.    Bartley    was    the 
original    Hermione     here,    when    with    her    husband 
she    made    her   last   appearance  in   this   country   on 
the  5th   of   May,   18*20,  at  the   Park  Theatre,  New 
York.      She  was  then  only  thirty-six  years  of   age, 
but  had  been  on   the  stage  a  quarter  of  a  century. 
When  known  to  the  world  under  her  maiden  name. 
Miss     Smith    won    the    affectionate     esteem    of    the 
Wizard  of   the  North,  the  great  Sir  Walter.     Scott 
took    such   friendly   interest    in    her  career    that    he 
often  wrote  to  her  letters  of  encouraging  advice  and 
friendly  badinage,  some  of  which  contained  sly  and 
characteristic    "  digs "    at    his    friend,    Daniel    Terry 
of   the  little    Adelphi   Theatre  in  the   Strand.     Mr. 
George    Bartley,    the    original    Max     Harkaway    in 
v*  London   Assurance,"    played  Autolycus,  when    his 
wife  acted  Hermoine.     They   made  a  great   deal   of 
money  in  America:  but  Mrs.  Bartley  —  poor  woman! 
—  could    not   enjoy   it.   for   her    body    suffered    fear- 
fully for  many  years   from  paralysis,  and  her  mind 


7b  SHAKESPEARE  S    HEROINES. 

became  weakened  as  well.  She  had  given  promise 
of  taking  Mrs.  Siddons's  place  as  the  tragic  leader, 
until  Miss  O'Neill  seized  the  dramatic  sceptre. 

At  the  Park,  ten  years  later  almost  to  a  month, 
lovely  Mrs.  Hilton  impersonated  Hermione ;  and  Mr. 
Hilton,  Autolycus.  The  great  metropolis,  of  course, 
saw  the  most  of  the  American  revivals,  three  at  Bur- 
ton's, with  Mrs.  Warner  and  Mrs.  Parker  as  Her- 
mione ;  one  at  the  Bowery,  with  Mrs.  J.  W.  Wallack, 
Jr.,  in  the  leading  female  role  ;  and  then  that  magni- 
ficent production  at  Booth's,  with  Mrs.  Mollenhauer 
(Ada  Clifton)  as  Hermione,  and  Isabella  Pateman  as 
Perdita.  Of  these  people  Mrs.  Warner  and  Mrs. 
Wallack  gave  their  interpretations  elsewhere. 

Mrs.  Warner,  as  a  leading  heavy  actress  of  Eng- 
land, and  the  possessor  of  the  personal  friendship 
of  the  Queen,  came  to  America  with  a  great  pres- 
tige, and  with  the  "  Winter's  Tale  '*  began  her 
tour.  In  comparison  with  the  many  who  have 
played  Hermione  in  their  younger  years,  it  is  in- 
teresting to  note  that  Mrs.  Warner  was  over  fifty 
when  she  gave  the  part  in  this  country.  Curious 
enough  it  seems,  in  contrast,  to  find  that  she  had 
played  Lady  Macbeth  when  she  was  but  fifteen 
years  of  age !  The  stage  companion  of  Macready, 
Phelps,   Webster,    Power,   and    Forrest;    the    lessee, 


IRS     WARNER    AS    HERMIONE 
Tallis    Print 


HERMIONB   AND   PERDITA.  77 

with  Phelps,  of  Sadler's  Wells,  and  the  manager 
of  Marylebone  Theatre,  Mrs.  Warner's  stage  expe- 
rience was  of  wide  extent.  Her  death  occurred 
three  years  after  her  American  dSbut.  Of  her  ap- 
pearance as  Hermione  the  Athenaeum  declared, 
"Mrs.  Warner  in  the  statue  scene  looked  passing 
beautiful." 

When  Mrs.  Parker  for  the  second  time  played 
Hermione  in  New  York.  J.  W.  Wallack,  Jr.,  im- 
personated Leontes  ;  and  the  next  year  Mr.  Wal- 
lack showed  his  portrayal  of  the  part  to  Bostonians 
at  the  famous  old  stock  theatre,  the  Museum.  His 
wife  then  starred  as  Hermione,  while  Rose  Skerrett 
(later  Mrs.  L.  R.  Shewell )  was  Perdita  ;  and  William 
Warren.  Autolycus. 

Lawrence  Barrett,  who  in  the  course  of  his  career 
played  three  different  characters  of  the  play,  prob- 
ably more  than  any  other  American  actor  could 
claim,  was  the  Polixenes  at  the  Boston  Museum 
production.  In  1<S,")7.  the  year  he  made  his  dSbut 
in  New  York,  he  acted  Florizel  at  Burton's  The- 
atre. In  1871,  at  Booth's  Theatre,  he  was  the 
Leontes  of  the  cast. 

Another  Hermione  of  repute  to  be  recorded  is 
Madame  Janauschek.  On  a  Cleveland.  Ohio,  play- 
bill   of    a   decade   agfo    we   rind   that   the    Perdita   to 


78  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

Madame    Janauschek's    Herniione    was    the    pretty 
Miss  Anna  Warren   Story  of   Washington. 

In  all  this  list  of  Hermiones  and  Perditas  not 
one  player  is  found  venturing  to  assume  both  the 
characters.  Mary  Anderson,  on  the  23d  of  April. 
1887,  at  Nottingham,  England,  was  the  first  to 
break  in  upon  tradition  ;  and  her  lovable  and  gra- 
cious, even  if  not  thoroughly  regal,  Herniione,  com- 
bined with  her  sprightly,  winsome  Perdita,  certainly 
gave  the  old  play  a  new  lease  of  theatrical  life. 
Curious  it  is  to  recall  that  one  feature  in  this 
last  stage  character  of  Mary  Anderson  displayed 
for  the  first  time  an  utter  abandonment  of  the 
charge  which,  from  the  very  first  of  her  career,  had 
been  held  up  against  her  acting.  All  critics  had 
admitted  her  natural  beauty,  all  had  commended 
her  intelligence,  and  man}-  had  praised  her  for 
earnestness  and  strength.  But  all  declared  that 
she  was  cold  and  passionless.  From  the  time  of 
her  first  appearance  on  Nov.  27,  1875.  at  Macau- 
ley's  Theatre  in  Louisville,  Ky.,  when  the  Califor- 
nia-born girl  was  in  her  seventeenth  year,  her  Juliet, 
her  Rosalind,  her  Parthenia,  her  Galatea,  her  Pau- 
line, her  Julia,  had  shown  what  popular  favor  a 
magnificent  figure,  a  superb  voice,  and  natural  tragic 
power  could  gain,  even  if   command  of  pathos  and 


MARY    ANDERSON    AS    HERMIONE 


HERMIONE    AM)    PERDITA.  7(.» 

naturalness  in  comedy  acting  were  less  marked:  but 
at  the  same  time  the  world  constantly  repeated  the 
two  words,  "cold'  and  -  stately."  Perdita,  how- 
ever, her  last  character  on  the  stage,  was  a  revela- 
tion. The  quick-footed  gazelle  could  scarcely  have 
been  more  light  of  foot,  more  animated,  or  more 
fascinating  in  action.  The  wild,  gypsy-like  dance 
showed  a  living  picture  of  free,  easy,  voluptuous 
movement,  so  devoid  of  artificiality  or  restraint  as 
to  be  as  captivating  as  it  was  real  for  such  an  ideal 
country-bred  character.  Who  could  have  believed 
the  stately  Mary  Anderson  capable  of  such  graceful 
romping? 

The  music  sounded,  the  shepherds  and  shep- 
herdesses seized  hands,  forward  and  back,  turned 
about  and  formed  in  line,  with  Perdita  and  Flori- 
zel  in  the  centre.  A  breathless  dash  to  the  front 
of  the  stage  sweeps  Perdita's  soft  clino-ino-  gar- 
ments  of  white  tight  around  her  limbs;  her  brown 
hair  falls  needio-entlv  over  the  one  and  then  the 
other  shoulder,  as  the  shapely  head  follows  from 
side  to  side  the  swaying  motions  of  the  lithe  body; 
a  beautiful,  merry  face  glances  ottt  from  under  the 
floating  hair,  and  the  portrait  of  unconventional, 
natural  loveliness  is  complete.  It  needed  only  the 
rhythm    of    the    dancing    movements    to    make    the 


80'  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

spectators  fascinated,  captivated   in  admiration.     No 
petty    mincing    steps    were     here,    but    long,    swift, 
sweeping    dashes,  that    outlined    the   figures   of   the 
dance  like   the   broad    strokes   of  a  free-hand  artist. 
carrying    the    dancer,  almost   as   though   floating  in 
aii',    from    cottage    to    rocks    and    back    to    cottage 
again.     It  was  the  poetry  of  luxurious  unrestraint, 
of  boundless   freedom  from  the   artificial    rules   and 
order    affected    by    mankind,   united    with    the    har- 
mony  of    that    natural    love    for    the    symmetrically 
beautiful  with  which  the  best  of  humanity  is  gifted. 
Mary  Anderson's   Perdita  will    not    easily   be    for- 
gotten. 


VIOLA. 
(Twelfth  Night.  ) 


It  is  said  that  Charles  I.,  whose  admiration  of 
Shakespeare  was  a  crime  with  the  Puritans,  gave  to 
"Twelfth  Night"  the  title  of  "  Maivolio,"  which 
evidence  of  partiality  for  the  character  of  the  vain 
steward  leads  a  critic  of  years  ago  to  declare,  "  Had 
he  seen  Mrs.  Jordan  perform  in  the  play,  he  would, 
perhaps,  rather  have  called   it  '  Viola.' 

Many  a  play-goer  of  to-day,  remembering  the  poor 
Malvolios  and  the  admirable  Violas  he  has  seen,  may 
repeat  the  phrase,  substituting  for  Jordan  the  name 
of  his  favorite.  The  youth  has  but  live  to  bring  to 
mind :  Modjeska  the  Viola  of  refinement,  Marlowe 
the  Viola  of  brightness,  Rehan  the  Viola  of  serions- 
ness,  Terry  the  Viola  of  brilliancy,  and  Wainwright 
the  Viola  of  elegance.  The  man  bears  in  memory 
Neilson,  Barrow,  and  others  whose  glory  is  now. 
alas,   but    history  —  and    no    two    agree   who  is   the 

best. 

si 


82  shakkspkahe's  heroines. 

It  is  somewhat  curious  to  note  that  love-sick  Viola 
was  the  character  leading  to  the  professional  separa- 
tion of  its  latest  interpreter  and  her  husband.  As 
stars  together,  Louis  James  and  Marie  Wainwright 
had  for  three  seasons  played,  the  lady  acting  Bea- 
trice, Rosalind.  Desdemona.  and  Ophelia,  as  well  as 
Virginia  and  Gretchen  ;  but  to  Mr.  James  the  role 
of  Malvolio  presented  no  attraction,  while  to  his  wife 
Viola  was  a  beacon  towards  which  she  sought  to 
guide  her  histrionic  career.  The  daughter  of  a  Com- 
modore of  the  United  States  Navy  and  the  grand- 
daughter of  a  noted  bishop,  Marie  Wainwright  made 
her  debut  at  Booth's  Theatre,  New  York,  in  a  scene 
of  ••Romeo  and  Juliet,"  as  one  of  the  six  Juliets  at 
the  benefit  of  George  Rignold.  Then  she  joined  the 
stock  company  of  the  old  Boston  Museum,  and  to 
her  astonishment  and  dismay  found  herself  obliged 
to  act  Josephine,  in  "  Pinafore,"  when  that  comic 
opera  was  first  brought  out  in  America.  Soon,  how- 
ever, she  was  in  the  legitimate  drama,  as  leading 
ladv  with  Lawrence  Barrett,  and  there  met  her  chief 
successes. 

Like  Miss  Wainwright,  another  Viola  of  to-day 
found  herself  cast  in  "  Pinafore "  at  the  beginning 
of  her  career;  but  to  this  girl  —  for  she  was  then 
a  mere  slip  of  a  child --fell  the  part  of  Sir  Joseph 


VIOLA.  83 

Porter  in  a  juvenile  opera  company.  Yet  the  Eng- 
lish-born maid,  Julia  Marlowe,  —  or,  as  she  was  then 
billed,  Fanny  Brough  (her  real  name  being  in  fact 
Sarah  Frances  Frost). -- accredited  herself  well,  and 
six  years  later  shone  suddenly  and  brilliantly  as  a 
theatrical  star  of  some  magnitude.  Parthenia  was 
her  first  character,  Juliet  her  second,  and  Viola  her 
third.  In  spite  of  her  early  discouragements  she 
couracreouslv  continued,  until  to-day  Mrs.  Robert 
Tabei( — as  her  interesting  marriage  to  her  leading 
support  entitles  her  to  be  called  in  private  life  — 
represents  the  best  art  of  the  younger  stage. 

In  Modjeska  the  sentimental  side  of  Viola  is 
thrown  into  bold  relief  by  marked  tenderness,  gen- 
tle timidity,  and  delicate  pathos.  The  character  was 
one  of  her  later  assumptions.  Of  Polish  birth,  this 
actress  has  now    become  one  of  the  chief  lights  of 


t> 


the  American  stage.  Her  early  life  was  full  of  strug- 
gle. Some  little  time  after  the  burning  of  Cracow 
had  swept  away  all  the  possessions  of  her  widowed 
mother,  Helena  for  a  while  was  turned  aside  from 
her  histrionic  impulses  by  marriage,  brought  about 
by  the  mother,  with  the  daughter's  elderly  guardian. 
Modrzejewski.  One  son  was  born  to  them  :  and  it 
was  after  the  birth  of  this  son's  child  that  Modjeska 
(a  name,  it  may  be  stated,  derived  by  popular  abbre- 


84  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

viation  of  Modrzejewska)  fulfilled  a  promise,  made 
half  in  joke  and  half  in  earnest,  of  playing  Juliet 
when  she  had  become  a  grandmother.  Success  in 
amateur  theatricals  called  the  attention  of  Modrze- 
jewski  to  the  value  of  such  an  accomplished  wife,  and 
he  therefore  soon  assisted  her  to  progress  upon  the 
cA  stage.  Her  intense  patriotism  led  her  to  refuse  an 
engagement  to  play  German  tragedy  in  Austria,  as  it 
also  caused  her  to  decline  an  invitation  from  Dumas 
to  play  Camille  in  Paris 4  but  her  reward  came  in 
the  honor  of  being  regarded  as  the  foremost  of  War- 
saw's actors.  In  1868  she  married  Charles  Bozenta 
Chlapowski,  a  patriotic  journalist  of  high  social  con- 
nections, and  with  him  lias  enjoyed  a  most  happy 
life.  Ill  health  and  family  afflictions  led  Modjeska 
in  1876  to  America,  where  for  a  time  she  essayed 
farming  in  California.  But  money  ran  short ;  and 
the  plucky  actress,  learning  in  six  months  the  Eng- 
lish language,  made  her  first  appearance  in  this 
country  in  1877  on  the  San  Francisco  stage.  From 
that  time  her  career  has  been  uninterruptedly  tri- 
umphant. 

Of  Rehan's  Viola,  undertaken   after  she   had  made 


successes  in  Rosalind  and  Katherine  the  Shrew,  and 
when  the  actress  had  passed  her  thirtieth  year,  the 
commendatory  word  is  not  to  lie  withheld,  though  it 


MME.    MODJESKA. 


VIOLA.  85 

is  tempered  by  the  same  criticism  that  records  itself 
against  Ellen  Terry's  interpretation ;  namely,  that 
it  expresses  in  full  but  one  side  of  the  character. 
With   Rehan   the  serious  predominates/ 

Of  the  four  chief  American  Violas  of  to-day,  three 
were  born  abroad,  — Modjeska  in  Poland,  Marlowe 
in  England,  and  Rehan  in  Ireland.  It  was  as  Ada 
Crehan  that  the  latter  actress  was  born  in  Limerick 
on  the  22d  of  April,  1860 ;  but  the  name  was  changed 
forever,  so  the  story  goes,  by  the  mistake  of  a  printer 
who  interpreted  the  handwriting  on  the  play -bill 
copy  to  be  Ada  C.  Rehan,  and  so  printed  it,  Having 
made  a  success  Miss  Rehan  continued  under  the  new 
patronymic.  Interesting  it  is  to  note  that  she  was  a 
member  of  the  stock  company  at  Macauley's  Theatre 
in  Louisville,  Ky.,  when  Mary  Anderson  made  her 
first  appearance  on  the  stage,  Nov.  27.  1875.  Miss 
Rehan's  debut  had  been  made  at  the  age  of  thir- 
teen, in  Newark,  N.J.,  when  she  acted  a  small  part 
in  "Across  the  Continent"  for  one  night  only,  tilling 
the  place  of  an  actress  taken  suddenly  ill.  Shortly 
afterward  she  played  with  her  brother-in-law,  Oliver 
Doud  Byron,  at  Wood's  Theatre.  New  York,  and 
then  obtained  a  regular  engagement  at  the  Arch 
Street  Theatre,  Philadelphia,  following  that  with 
experiences    in    travelling    combinations.     Augustin 


86  shakespeake's  heroines. 

•7- Daly,  seeing  her  act  at  Albany  and  again  in  New 
York,  noted  the  promise  in  the  girl  (who  was  at 
that  time  less  than  twenty),  and  engaged  her  for  his 
company.  In  1879  she  became  leading  lad}^ ;  and 
since  then  her  life  has  been  one  round  of  triumphs, 
both  in  America  and  in  England,  with  modern  com- 
edy roles  and  with  Rosalind,  Katherine  the  Shrew, 
Mistress  Ford,  Helena,  the  Princess  of  France,  and 
Viola. 

And  now  to  glance  back  at  the  Violas  of  older 
memory.  Neilson's  third  tour  of  America  was  be- 
gun May  12,  1877,  at  Daly's  Theatre,  New  York, 
with  her  first  performance  of  Viola,  a  character 
which,  by  the  pathos  and  humor  expressed  in  her 
acting,  was  at  once  ranked  close  beside  her  Juliet. 
Before  her  day  the  most  noted  revivals  of  the  old 
comedy  were  at  Burton's,  in  1852  and  1858,  when 
Burton  himself  played  the  fat  knight,  and  Charles 
Fisher  interpreted  Malvolio.  In  the  first  production 
Mr.  Lester  (so  Lester  Wallack  then  billed  his  name) 
was  Agueeheek  ;  in  the  second  that  character  was 
impersonated  by  Charles  J.  Mathews  :  while  the  1858 
performance  also  saw  Lawrence  Barrett,  then  just 
beginning  his  career,  playing  the  part  of  Sebastian, 
twin  brother  of  the  heroine. 

In  all  the  life  of  the  comedy  on  the  stage  it  has 


VIOLA.  87 

been  no  easy  matter  to  find  for  the  heroine's  brother 
a  player  who  could  so  closely  resemble  her  as  to 
make  the  complications  of  the  story  seem  possible. 
Dora  Jordan's  own  brother,  Mr.  Bland,  several  times 
played  Sebastian  to  her  Viola  ;  while  W.  Murray,  the 
brother  of  Mrs.  Henry  Siddons,  in  later  years  carried 
out  a  similar  combination.  In  1869,  for  the  first  time 
on  the  English  stage,  the  German  fashion  of  having 
Viola  also  act  Sebastian  was  adopted,  the  meeting  of 
the  two  characters  at  the  last  moment  beino-  over- 
come  by  having  as  Sebastian  a  mute  double,  an  ac- 
tress dressed  to  resemble  the  character,  but  given 
nothing  to  say  during  her  few  minutes  on  the  scene. 
Kate  Terry  played  the  roles. 

The  Viola  of  the  Burton  revivals  was  Lizzie  Wes- 
ton, who  first  appeared  under  that  name,  and  then 
as  Mrs.  A.  II.  Davenport,  having  in  the  interval  be- 
tween the  productions,  been  married,  —  and  divorced 
as  well.  On  Feb.  14,  1858,  she  married  Mathews, 
die  Aguecheek  of  the  second  cast,  only  two  years 
after  the  death  of  his  first  wife,  Mme.  Vestris,  and 
from  him  received  the  compliment  in  print  of  being 
"  a  prudent,  economical,  industrious  little  helpmate, 
who,  by  two  or  three  years  of  good  management, 
repaired  the  cruelty  of  fortune  in  other  respects,  and 
who,  with  a  clear  little  head  and  a  o-ood  little  heart, 


88  shakespeabe's  heroines. 

at  length  did  for  me  what  I  had  never  been  able 
to  do  myself  —  kept  my  expenditure  within  my 
income." 

About  this  same  time.  Julia   Bennett  Barrow  was 
acting  Viola  —  she  whom  Forrest  esteemed  the  best 
Desdemona    of    the    stage,    and    who    increased    the 
furore    over  -Hiawatha"'   by  her    recitation    of    the 
poem  as  she  stood  in  the  picturesque  costume  of  an 
Indian  squaw  behind  the  footlights,  with  Longfellow 
himself  in  one  of  the  boxes,  applauding  her  beauty 
and  her  melodious  voice.     With  graceful  figure  and 
expressive  voice,  this  highly  cultivated  daughter  of 
a   well-to-do    English  actor   had  advanced  so  far   in 
music    as   to    be    urged    towards    the    operatic   stage. 
But  in  1841.  while  a  girl  in  her  teens,  she   made  her 
Jelmt  on  the  English   stage   as   an  actress:  and  the 
success  that   met  her  efforts  determined  her  career. 
When  one  and   twenty  years   of   age.  Julia  Bennett 
married   Jacob  Barrow;    but   her  subsequent   retire- 
ment from   the   stage   was    broken    two    years    later 
by  unfortunate  circumstances.      She  returned  to  the 
theatre,  and  in    1851    came   to   America    to  gain  ex- 
tended triumphs. 

.Then  there  was  (Mara  Fisher  (Mrs.  Maeder),  also, 

as  an  interpreter  of  the  "  Twelfth  Night "  heroine; 
but   with   her   the  every-day  character  was   stronger 


MRS.   JULiA    BENNETT    BARROW. 


VIOLA.  89 

than  the  poetical.  Viola  was  touchingly  acted,  vet 
not  so  well  as  was  Ophidic  to  which  she  gave  grace 
and  effective  simplicity.  Though  not  absolutely 
pretty  in  face,  Clara  Fisher  in  her  younger  days, 
with  her  short,  plump,  but  finely  formed  figure,  her 
arch  expression  and  smiling  features,  and  with  her 
sprightly  manner  of  acting,  made  herself  so  much 
the  rage  as  to  set  the  young  ladies  of  the  fashion- 
able world  even  to  dressing  their  hair  a  la  Fisher,  in 
boyish  style,  and  actually  to  imitating  her  lisp. 

A  still  earlier  Viola  was  Mrs.  Henry,  whose  sup- 
port at  the  Park  Theatre  in  New  York,  in  1825,  in- 
cluded husband  and  wife,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Henry 
Wallack,  in  the  characters  of  Malvolio  and  Sebas- 
tian. Mrs.  Henry  was  then  twenty-four  years  of 
age,  and  had  been  on  the  New  York  stage  but  one 
year.  She  was  also  to  mark  the  same  year  by  marry- 
ing, June  24.  -  Gentleman  George  "  Barrett.  Her 
life  had  been  full  of  sorrow,  even  at  that  early 
period,  and  its  later  record  was  no  clearer  of  clouds. 
Married  at  the  age  of  sixteen  to  a  dancer  named 
Drummond.  she  had  been  obliged,  after  the  birth  of 
two  children,  to  obtain  a  divorce  from  him  on  the 
charge  of  ill  treatment,  and  had  resumed  her  name 
of  Henry.  Extraordinarily  beautiful  in  person  and 
accomplished  in  mind  was  this  Philadelphia  girl,  — 


90  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

••  A  faultless  piece  of  mortality  in  outward  loveli- 
ness," said  Fanny  Kemble,  —  while  her  acting  in  gay 
and  refined  characters  was  of  the  highest  order.  But 
an  inordinate  craving  for  liquor  disturbed  her  happy 
third  married  life,  and  ultimately  brought  her  to 
degradation.  Then  kind  friends  restored  her  to  so- 
ciety,  and  again  she  took  up  a  career  of  triumph  on 
the  stao-e   until  her  death  in   December.  1853. 

Before  Mrs.  Henry  assumed  our  heroine's  charac- 
ter, "Twelfth  Night"  appears  to  have  enjoyed  a  ver- 
itable Rip  Van  Winkle  sleep  of  twenty  years.  It 
was  on  a  warm  June  day  in  the  year  1804,  at  the  old 
Park  Theatre  in  New  York  City,  when  Hallam,  a 
most  popular  actor  of  the  time,  was  enjoying  his 
regular  benefit  performance,  that  the  graceful  and 
stylish  Mrs.  Johnson  stepped  upon  the  stage  in  the 
masquerading  garments  of  the  newly  created  Cesario. 
She,  the  second  Viola  of  the  American  theatre,  may 
still  hold  a  place  in  the  memory  of  some  veteran 
play-goer,  for  her  death  occurred  but  fifty-nine  years 
ago.  As  the  daughter  of  the  British  officer.  Major 
Ford;  as  a  young  actress  at  Covent  Garden;  as  the 
wife  of  John  Johnson,  one  of  the  favorite  "old  men" 
of  the  New  York  theatre  in  its  early  days.  —  she  was 
remarkable  for  the  union  in  her  person  of  ease,  grace, 
refinement,  and  lightness  of  histrionic  touch,  together 


MRS.  GEORGE    BARRETT. 


VIOLA.  i'l 

with  that  tragic  power  that  won  for  her  the  proud 
title  of  the  "  Siddons  of  America." 

With  her  in  that  production  —  and  the  perform- 
ance occurred,  it  is  worth  noting,  only  seventeen 
days  after  the  introduction  to  the  American  stage  of 
another  Shakespearian  play,  "  The  Comedy  of  Er- 
rors"-—  were  Hallam  as  the  Clown,  and  Hallam's 
wife  as  Olivia,  together  with  Harwood  and  Hogg, 
the  original  Dromios,  as  Sir  Toby  and  Fabian.  The 
recording  honor  to  those  toiling  play-actors  ought 
freely  to  be  bestowed.  They  had  but  little  else,  even 
in  their  own  day.  Hogg  and  his  wife  drew  a  paltry 
fourteen  dollars  a  week  each  for  their  services  ;  while 
Hallam  and  his  wife  were  content,  or  at  least  had 
been  content  up  to  a  few  years  preceding  that  time, 
with  a  stipend  of  twenty-five  dollars  a  week  each. 
Indeed,  at  the  opening  of  this  century  the  reward  of 
fifty  dollars  a  week  was  recorded  as  the  highest  sal- 
ary ever  paid  in  America.  What  contrast  with  the 
modern  performers  in  the  Shakespearian  play,  who 
think  themselves  ill-reqnited  if  their  salary  falls  be- 
low a  hundred  silver  dollars  every  week,  and  who, 
if  successful  as  a  star,  may  count  several  times  that 
sum  for  every  night  they  play. 

Preeedinc*'  Mrs.  Johnson,  there  is  record  of  but  one 
actress  in  the   role  of  Orsino's  page.  Miss  Harrison, 


92  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

the  dignified  and  graceful  debutante  who  gave  the 
character  its  first  presentation  in  America,  May  5, 
1794,  a  few  months  after  her  arrival  in  Boston  from 
England,  and  who  married,  a  few  months  later,  the 
Orsino  of  the  cast,  Snelling  Powell,  the  brother  of 
the  manager  of  the  first  Boston  Theatre. 

The  very  first  production  of  the  comedy  on  any 
stage  was  probably  in  1601-1602,  at  the  Blackfriar's 
Theatre :  but  though  the  [day  enjoyed  popularity 
durino-  the  author's  time,  it  afterwards  lanoaiished. 
Pepys,  who  never  seems  to  have  appreciated  Shake- 
speare, did  not  thoroughly  enjoy  the  performance,  the 
second  of  which  we  have  any  record,  of  Sept.  11. 
1661  (though  perhaps  in  good  part  it  was  the  prick- 
ing of  his  conscience  over  a  broken  promise).  In 
his  gossiping  Diary  he  records,  "  Walking  through 
Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  observed  at  the  Opera  a  new 
play,  '  Twelfth  Night,'  was  acted  there,  and  the  king 
there:  so  I,  against  my  own  mind  and  resolution, 
could  not  forbear  to  go  in.  which  did  make  the  play 
seem  a  burthen  to  me,  and  I  took  no  pleasure  at  all 
in  it;  and  so,  after  it  was  done,  went  home  with  my 
mind  troubled  for  my  going  thither,  after  my  swear- 
ing to  my  wife  that  I  would  never  go  to  a  play 
without  her."  Some  seven  years  later  Pepys  saw 
••  Twelfth  Night "   again  under  less  self-reproachful 


VIOLA.  93 

circumstances,  but  even  then  he  decided  that  it  was 
••one  of  the  weakest  plays  ever  I  saw  on  the  stage." 
Undoubtedly  Mrs.  Saunderson,  afterwards  the  wife 
of  Betterton,  the  Sir  Toby  of  the  east,  was  Viola. 

More  than  seventy  years  later  the  comedy  was  re- 
vived at  Dniry  Lane  with  Mrs.  Pritchard  as  the 
heroine;  and  a  few  years  later  Peg  Woffington  came 
for  the  first  time  into  the  character,  Old  Macklin 
beinof  in  both  cases  the  Malvolio. 

How  the  Viola  of  gay  O'Brien's  day  acted,  would 
be  interesting  to  know  now  in  the  light  of  the  record 
made  by  that  elegant  light  comedian  as  Sir  Andrew 
Aguecheek.  At  the  performance  of  Oct.  19,  1763, 
he  played  with  such  1  minor  as  to  cause  one  of  the 
two  sentinels,  posted,  according  to  the  custom  of 
the  time,  on  either  side  of  the  stage,  absolutely  to 
fall  over  on  the  floor  in  a  paroxysm  of  laughter  at 
Sir  Andrew's  comicality.  A  little  after  this  O'Brien 
caused  tears  in  the  fashionable  world  by  eloping 
with  the  highbred  Lady  Susan  Fox  Strangways, 
daughter  of  the  Earl  of  llchester,  a  step  which  led 
to  his  banishment  for  eight  years  to  America. 

Miss  Younge  (Mrs.  Pope)  ran  rivalry  in  1771  at 
Drury  Lane  to  Mrs.  Yates  at  Covent  Garden,  when 
the  latter  had  her  husband  to  act  the  vain  steward  : 
while   Mrs.  Spranger  Barry,  who  coidd  recover  from 


04  shakespeai;e*s  heroines. 

grief  at  the  death  of  her  handsome  husband  quickly 
enough  to  play  Viola  at  her  own  benefit  two  months 
after  Spranger's  decease,  and  who  two  years  later 
married  the  scampish  Crawford,  helps,  with  Mrs. 
Bulkeley  and  "  Perdita "  Robinson,  to  bring  the 
character  down  to  the  days  of  the  most  famous 
Viola  of  them  all,  Dora  Jordan.  Mrs.  Barry,  it  may 
be  said  in  passing,  was  a  graceful,  spirited  actress  of 
fair  complexion,  with  light  auburn  hair  and  regular 
features,  a  modest  appearing  woman,  with  but  one 
physical  disadvantage,  nearness  of  sight.  This  mis- 
fortune, in  one  case  at  least,  played  her  ill.  She  was 
acting  Calista  in  "  The  Fair  Penitent,"  and  having 
occasion,  through  the  exigencies  of  the  plot,  to  com- 
mit suicide,  unluckily  dropped  her  dagger  upon  the 
stage.  There  it  lay  before  her  eyes,  but  she  could 
not  discover  it.  Her  attendant  essayed  to  push  it 
forward  with  her  foot.  In  vain  ;  it  did  not  reach  the 
lady's  range  of  vision.  At  last  the  maid  was  com- 
pelled to  kneel,  pluck  up  the  dangerous  weapon  and 
hand  it  to  her  mistress,  to  aid  the  latter  in  deliber- 
ately murdering  herself. 

But  now  listen  to  Charles  Lamb  as  he  dilates  upon 
Dora  Jordan's  Viola,  referring  to  her  first  appearance 
in  the  part,  Nov.  11,  1785,  at  Drury  Lane,  when 
Bensley,   the    greatest   of    Malvolios,   and    Dodd,   so 


VIOLA.  95 

famous  as  Sir  Andrew,  were  in  the  cast.  In  his 
"Essays  of  Elia"  lie  declares  that  Jordan's  voice,  be- 
fore it  was  disfigured  by  coarseness,  sank  with  her 
steady,  melting  eye  into  the  heart.  The  disguised 
story  of  her  love  for  Orsino  was  no  set  speech  ;  but 
"  when  she  had  declared  her  sister's  history  to  be  '  a 
blank,"  and  that  she  never  told  her  love,  there  was 
a  pause  as  if  the  story  had  ended;  and  then  w  the  im- 
age of  the  worm  in  the  bud '  came  up  as  a  new 
suggestion,  and  the  heightened  image  of  'patience' 
still  followed  after  this  as  bv  some  growing  (and 
not  mechanical )  process,  thought  springing  up  after 
thought,  I  would  almost  say.  as  they  were  watered 
by  her  tears.  She  used  no  rhetoric  in  her  passion; 
or  it  was  nature's  own  rhetoric,  most  legitimate  then, 
when  it  seemed  altogether  without  rule  or  law." 

Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  was  charmed  with  Mrs.  Jor- 
dan's ■•tender,  exquisite  Viola."'  as  much  "by  the 
music  of  her  melancholy  as  by  the  music  of  her 
laugh."' 

heigh  Hunt  sang  praises  of  her  voice,  melting 
with  melody  that  delighted  the  ear,  but  he  criticised 
her  costume  most  severely.  "She  appeared,"  he 
said,  "in  thin  white  breeches  and  stockings  that 
fitted  her  like  her  own  skin :  and  just  over  her 
waist  hung  a  vest,  still  thinner,  of  most  transparent 


06  shakespeake's  heroines. 

black  lace.  I  shall  not  be  exact  in  my  description 
lest  I  should  appear  to  be  writing  upon  anatomy. 
Viola  should  have  been  really  disguised,  and  not 
undressed  as  a  woman  under  pretence  of  being 
dressed  as  a  man." 


Viola  was  Mrs.  Jordan's  first  serious  part  in 
London.  She  was  twenty-three  when  she  came  to 
Drury  Lane,  and  both  before  and  after  that  time 
was  to  find  romance  filling  much  of  her  life.  An 
Irish  lass,  like  many  another  bright  light  of  the 
stage,  she  discovered  at  an  early  age  that  her  family 
standing1  was  rather  uncertain.  Her  father,  from 
whom  she  obtained  the  right  (but  little  used  by 
her)  of  calling  herself  Miss  Bland,  left  her  mother, 
with  whom  he  had  eloped,  to  wed  a  wealthier  wife  ; 
and  her  mother,  though  a  clergyman's  child,  saw 
little  else  in  the  daughter  beyond  an  advantageous 
piece  of  furniture  ;  though,  indeed,  she  did  express 
a  fondness  for  the  girl  that  was  in  part  genuine 
and  in   part  mercenary. 

In  "As  You  Like  It,"  Dora  made  her  first  appear- 
ance upon  the  stage,  her  stage  character  being 
Phoebe,  and  her  stage  name  Miss  Francis.  This 
was  at  the  Dublin  Theatre,  eight  years  before  she 
was  to  delight  great  London  town.  A  wicked 
manager,    a    Don    Juan  in  the  profession,  drove   the 


VIOLA.  97 

resisting  maid  from  Dublin;  and  before  long  she 
had  become,  by  virtue  of  the  playbill  if  not  by 
clergyman's  certificate,  a  madam — Mrs.  Jordan. 

The  great  Mrs.  Siddons  saw  the  handsome  Irish 
girl  during1  one  of  those  early  days,  but  shook  her 
head  disapprovingly,  perhaps  with  the  secret  worm 
of  envy  even  then  prompting  her  to  the  act.  Who 
can  say?  Yet  to  London  town  came  Dora,  and  with 
her  own  dashing  spirit  played,  now  demurely,  now 
saucily,  the  part  of  Peggy  in  '-The  Country  Girl." 
It  was  enough.  The  first  step  to  favoritism  was 
taken;  and  from  that  cool  October  evening,  in  the 
year  1785,  until  1814.  with  two  seasons  excepted, 
Dora  Jordan  ruled  as  Queen  of  Comedy. 

First  of  Shakespeare's  characters  she  played  Viola, 
a  great  success,  then  Imogen,  an  ineffective  imper- 
sonation, and  then  spirited  Rosalind.  Curiously 
enough,  this  glorious  romp,  this  admired  Miss  Hoy- 
den of  "A  Trip  to  Scarborough "  fame,  and  this 
splendid  Nell  of  -The  Devil  to  Pay,"  had  -a  han- 
kering after  tender  parts,"'  as  she  confessed.  Before 
she  closed  her  career  she  was  to  take  up  Helena  in 
"All's  Well  that  Ends  Well."  Juliet,  Ophelia,  and 
Beatrice  in  -Much  Ado  About  Nothing;"  but  her 
Viola  and  her  Rosalind  charmed  the  most,  Her 
voice,   sweet   and    melodious,  her    arch   glances    and 


98  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

her  playful  manners,  combined  with  a  magnificent 
figure  to  form  an  ideal  portrait  of  happy,  roguish 
Ganymede.  The  great  painter  of  the  age  pro- 
nounced her  figure  the  neatest  and  most  perfect  in 
symmetry  that  he  had  ever  seen.  Tate  Wilkinson 
saw  no  wonder  in  her  acting  finely  the  boys'  roles, 
since  nature  had  fitted  her  so  well  for  such  char- 
acters; and  Tate  found  not  only  artistic  charm  in 
this  model  of  living  sculpture,  but  also  a  grace  and 
elasticity  of  step  born  of  perfection  in  form. 

She  was  not  accounted  handsome ;  but  she  had  a 
spirit  of  fun  that  would  have  "  out-laughed  Puck 
himself,''  and  a  merry,  ringing  laugh  that  carried  all 
before  her.  The  fine  ladies  she  could  not  play  with 
ease;  but  the  "breeches  parts"  were  hers  alone,  so 
long  as  she  saw  fit  to  command  them. 

In  her  private  life  there  was  what  might  be 
termed  a  morganatic  marriage  that  has  become 
famous,  her  alliance  for  twenty  years  with  the  Duke 
of  Clarence,  afterwards  William  IV.  The  Duke, 
when  twenty-four  years  of  age,  had  seen  the  gay 
actress  at  the  play  at  Cheltenham,  and,  by  one  thou- 
sand pounds  a  year  allowance,  induced  her  in  1790 
to  leave  Mr.  (afterwards  Sir  Richard)  Ford,  with 
whom  she  had  been  living  and  by  whom  she  had 
then   several   children.      In    1811,   after  squandering 


MRS.    JORDAN. 
From    Oxberry's    "Dramatic    Biography  and    Histrionic   Anecdotes."      London,  1825. 


VIOLA.  99 

all  her  earnings,  this  royal  companion  cast  her  aside. 
Five  years  later  she  died.  The  eldest  of  the  ten 
children  born  to  William  IV.  and  Mrs.  Jordan 
was  created  Earl  of  Minister.  To-day  his  grand- 
child is  one  of  the   ''court  beauties''  of  London. 

Of  Dodd,  who  acted  Sir  Andrew  to  Dora  Jor- 
dan's Viola,  an  anecdote  may  be  related,  on  the 
authority  of  Land).  Jem  White  met  the  player 
one  day  on  Fleet  Street,  and  having  seen  him  the 
night  before  in  "Twelfth  ^Tio•ht,,,  doffed  his  hat, 
half  in  fun  and  half  in  earnest,  witli  the  Shakespear- 
ian salutation,  "  Save  yon,  Sir  Andrew;''  to  which 
Dodd,  not  at  all  disconcerted  by  the  stranger's  greet- 
ing, waved  his  hand  in  a  half-rebuking  way.  as  he 
exclaimed,  after  his  author's  style,  "Away,  fool!" 

Dora's  daughter  by  Mr.  Ford.  Mrs.  Alsop,  never 
believed  to  her  last  day  that  her  mother  died  at 
the  time  originally  reported.  It  was  a  strange  story. 
Towards  the  end  of  June,  1816,  a  letter  came  from 
Mrs.  Jordan's  companion  in  exile,  announcing  the 
lady's  sudden  death:  three  days  later  another  letter 
bore  the  tidings  that  the  writer  had  been  deceived 
by  Mrs.  Jordan's  appearance,  and  that  she  still  lived, 
though  ill.  Then,  before  the  daughter  could  start, 
as  she  intended,  for  Paris,  a  third  letter  announced 
the    death    as    actually    having    occurred.      Yet    the 


100  shakespeare'r  heroines. 

gentleman  who  investigated  the  report  heard  from 
the  landlord  of  her  hotel  no  story  of  resuscitation, 
and  assuredly  so  astounding  a  fact  would  not  have 
been  lost  to  his  gossiping  ears  and  tongue  had  it 
happened.  So  the  report  spread  that  Mrs.  Jordan 
was  not  really  dead.  Moreover.  Boaden,  who  knew 
Jordan  well,  insisted  he  saw  her  in  London,  though 
she  quickly  dropped  her  veil  as  if  to  avoid  recog- 
nition; while  Mrs.  Alsop,  ignorant  of  Boaden's  ex- 
perience, at  about  the  same  time  thought  she  saw 
her  mother  in  the  Strand  of  the  English  capital, 
and  was  so  overcome  by  the  sight  that  she  fell 
down  in  a  tit.  The  mystery  has  never  been  solved. 
To    Maria    Tree's  Viola    in    1823,    in    a   musical 


adaptation  of  the  comedy  at  Covent  Garden  The- 
atre, Ellen  Tree,  then  eighteen  years  of  age,  made 
her  first  appearance  on  the  stage,  playing  Olivia. 
Twenty-seven  years  later  Ellen  Tree,  as  Mrs.  Charles 
Kean,  played  Viola  at  the  opening  performance  of 
the  Princess's  Theatre,  of  which  her  husband  was 
part  manager.  Her  figure,  features,  expression,  and 
elegant  propriety  in  costume,  are  pointed  out  by 
the  biographer  of  her  husband  as  fitting  her  essen- 
tially for  the  part,  while  the  delicate  humor  and 
exquisite  pathos  she  gave  the  character  are  said  to 
have  been  impossible  of  improvement. 


VIOLA.  101 

The  other  member  of  the  Tree  family,  Miss  Maria, 
who  afterwards  became  Mrs.  Bradshaw,  was  a  beau- 
tiful singer,  and  a  gentle,  unaffected,  but  not  in- 
tense or  forcible  actress.  Leigh  Hunt  maintained 
that,  though  it  was  the  fashion  to  talk  of  her  as  a 
Shakespearian  player,  yet  in  such  rdles  as  Viola, 
Rosalind,  and  Ophelia,  while  she  looked  interest- 
ing, spoke  the  verse  in  an  unaffected  tone,  and  did 
not  spoil  any  idea  which  the  spectator  had  cherished, 
yet  her  merit,  except  so  far  as  it  lay  in  her  figure 
and  voice,  was  chiefly  negative.  Vivacity,  passion, 
and  humor  were  lacking;  eloquence  and  true  feeling 
were  all  there  was  to  supply  their  place. 

That  underlying  pathos  was  the  one  lost  art  in 
jEllen  Terry's  Viola^  Brilliant  and  bewitching  in 
her  gleeful  moments,  the  actress  thus  gave  alert 
interest  to  the  part,  but  left  the  half-concealed  sad- 
ness of  the  character  less  apparent.  On  July  8, 
188-1,  she  first  interpreted  the  role,  at  the  London 
Lyceum,  to  Irving's  Malvolio.  There  have  been 
other  Violas,  from  the  performance  in  184»>,  at  the 
Haymarket,  of  Charlotte  Cushman  to  her  sister's 
Olivia;  and  from  the  Violas  of  Laura  Addison  in 
Phelps's  revivals  of  1848.  and  of  Mrs.  Charles 
Young's  to  Phelps's  Malvolio  in  1857,  down  to  Mrs. 
Scott-Siddons  and  her  later-day  theatrical  sisters; 
but  none   has  obtained   enduring  prominence. 


IMOGEN. 
(Cymbeline.) 


Peeping  through  a  tiny  rent  in  the  curtain  of 
the  John  Street  Theatre,  Mrs.  Johnson  looked  with 
becoming  pride  upon  the  large  audience  gathered 
within  the  bare,  prim  auditorium,  ller  husband, 
clothed  in  the  costume  of  Pisauio,  stood  at  her 
side;  and  as  lie,  too,  peered  through  the  revealing 
hole,  he  ventured  an  exclamation  of  pleasure.  "My 
dear,''  cried  he,  "  there  isn't  a  vacant  seat  in  the 
pit,  the  boxes,  or  the  gallery.  That  means  eight 
hundred  dollars  in  the  box  office!" 

Fair  Imogen  smiled  modestly.  ''Perhaps,  John, 
it  is  the  novelty  of  the  bill,"  she  said  :  "a  perform- 
ance of  '  Cymbeline  '  for  the  first  time  in  thirty  years, 
and  for  the  second  time  in  the  entire  history  of  the 
New  York  stage,  is  an  event  in  itself,  to  say  noth- 
ing of  the  first  performance  in  this  city  of  Prince 
Hoare's  '  Lock  and  Key,'  in  which  Old  Brummasren" 
—  and    here    she    courtesied    in    compliment    to   her 

103 


104  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

lord  and  master —  "  will  cany  off  the  honors  of  the 


evening-. 


For  Ins  part  he  admiringly  gazed  at  the  tall, 
elegant  figure  of  the  beneficiary  of  this  evening 
of  April  24.  1797.  noted  anew  the  gracefulness  of 
her  bearing  and  the  high-bred,  refined  character  of 
her  face,  and  declared  to  himself,  "  She  will  be  the 
great  actress  of  this  country  !  " 

He  had  a  right  to  look  forward  with  rich  expec- 
tation.    Even  if  the  American  stage  was  yet  in  its 
infancy,  flourishing  New  York,  with  a  population  of 
fifty  thousand  people,  was  imbibing  deeply  the  pleas- 
ures  of   theatre-going ;    and   Johnson's  wife,  though 
but  one  year  known  to  the  city,  had  already  received 
that  greatest  of  all  possible  titles.  "The  Siddons  of 
America.''     Her  modesty  and  discretion  had  set  the 
seal  of  propriety  upon  her  character  in  an  age  when 
play-actors   were  not.  as  a  rule,  esteemed   the  ideal 
citizens;    while    her    wonderful    taste    in    dress    had 
made  her  a  model  for  the  belles  of  the  city,  just  as 
her   beauty  and  fascinating   brightness  in  conversa- 
tion had    made  her  the  adored  of   the    vouno-  men. 
The  gay  youth  could   admire   the   pretty  woman  as 
much  as  they  desired,  without  arousing  the  jealousy 
of  the  elderly  and   trusting  husband,   for  he  under- 
stood thoroughly   his   wife's  own  self-respect. 


IMOGEN.  Id;") 

Tn  the  auditorium  that  evening',  a  half-dozen  rows 
back,  sat  old  Colonel  Anthony  Moore  with  his 
youngest  daughter.  Her  eyas  throughout  the  per- 
formance were  turned  upon  the  boorish  Cloten. 
kw  It's  a  shame,"  she  whispered  between  the  acts,  a 
slight  blush  mantling  her  face  as  she  spoke,  "  it's 
a  perfect  shame  to  put  that  handsome  Mr.  Jefferson 
in  such  an  ugly  part." 

"  He  does  it  well,"  replied  old  Moore  critically. 
wt  1  never  knew  so  good-looking  a  young  man  to  have 
such  power  of  changing  his  features  to  the  most  ludi- 
crously ill-looking  physiognomy  as  has  this  lithe 
little  fellow.     I   think  we'll  hear  from  him  later." 

He  did  hear  from  him  for  many  years.  The 
Cloten  of  that  night  lived  until  1882.  and  then  left 
an  heir  of  note,  whose  heir  in  turn  became  the  great 
Rip  Van  Winkle  of  the  stage.  As  for  Mrs.  Johnson, 
she  lived,  like  the  princess  in  the  fairy  tale,  to  a 
good  age,  dying  in  the  arms  of  her  worthy  daughter, 
the  lovely  and  amiable  actress,  Mrs.  Hilton. 

But  it  was  not  until  three  years  after  this  interest- 
ing  "  Cymbeline "  performance  of  1797,  that  the 
daughter  was  born.  At  the  time  of  the  play  Imogen 
was  twenty-seven  years  old.  and  was  herself  spoken 
of  as  a  daughter  rather  than  a  mother.  The  bluff 
veteran   of  the   Revolution  on  the   end   settee    half 


106  shakespeaee's  heroines. 

a  dozen  rows  back  declared  to  the  heiress  at  his  side, 
with  a  tone  of  complacency  that  showed  how  high 
he  ranked  his  profession,  whatever  the  side  taken  by 
one  of  its  members  in  battle  :  "  Mrs.  .Johnson  is  the 
daughter  of  a  soldier,  Kate,  the  daughter  of  Major 
Ford  of  the  British  army.  She  has  acted  at  Covent 
Garden,  I  am  told,"  he  added,  ••and,  bless  my  soul, 
if  I  don't  think  she's  better  than  Miss  Cheer." 

••Miss  Cheer?"  inquired  his  daughter,  "who, 
pray,  is  she?" 

They  were  walking  now  along  the  old  covered 
wooden  pathway  to  John  Street,  carefully  picking 
their  way  through  the  crowd  in  the  dimly  lighted 
passage. 

"  Miss  Cheer,  my  dear,  was  the  first  actress  to 
play  Imogen  in  America.  I  remember  the  night 
well.  This  theatre  was  new  then,  had  been  in  exist- 
ence  a  few  months  only  ;  and  the  night,  three  days 
after  Christmas.  1767,  was  bitter  cold.  But  we 
turned  out  nobly  to  applaud  the  favorite  who  was 
driving  Mrs.  Douglass  from  her  throne.  That  was 
not  an  easy  thing  for  a  young  actress  to  do,  either, 
when  this  same  Mrs.  Douglass  was  so  clever  as  to 
dare  play  Juliet  to  her  own  son's  Romeo. — he  a 
lad  of  twenty,  and  she  an  elderly  matron  with 
a  second  husband.      But  Miss  Cheer  supplanted  Mrs. 


[MOGEN.  107 

Douglass  at  last.  We  thought  the  gay  young  ac- 
tress wonderful;  and  yet  now  —  bless  my  soul  if  I 
know  what's  become  of  her!  'Three  years  ago  she 
came  back  to  the  stage  as  Mrs.  hong;  but,  my  dear, 
von  know  how  that  is!  time  robs  even  lovely  woman 
of  her  charms  and-- well.  Imogen  was  no  longer  an 
ideal  for  us." 

The  daughter  remembered  these  words  fifty  years 
later,  on  the  28th  of  February,  1848.  when  she  saw 
an  Imogen  who,  suffering;  under  the  same  "  afflic- 
tions  "  as  her  earliest  predecessor  in  America--  viz., 
marriage  and  matronly  appearance  —  yet  held  her 
own  far,  far  better  than  had  poor  Mrs.  Long.  Mrs. 
Shaw  was  by  necessity  obliged  to  present  a  lady  love 
and  counterfeit  boy  whose  plumpness  was  beyond 
the  measure  of  beauty,  and  whose  robust  bearing 
could  scarcely  show  the  ingenuous  sweetness  of  a 
youthful  wife.  In  fact,  "  her  worst  fault,"  says  a 
writer  of  that  day,  commenting  on  the  "  Cymbeline  " 
performance  at  the  Bowery.  "  was  increasing  matron- 
liness  in  appearance." 

Beautiful  they  had  called  Mrs.  Shaw  at  her  Ameri- 
can debut  in  1836;  and  again  as  she  pictured  the  first 
Constance  (in  America)  in  "  The  Love  Chase,"  they 
re-echoed  the  adjective.  They  praised  her  figure 
when  she  daringly  essayed  Romeo  and  Hamlet,  Ion 


108  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

and  Young  Norval,  and  they  cheered  till  the  gallery 
nearly  raised  its  roof  in  astonishment  when  her 
shapely  Jack  Sheppard  dashed  upon  the  stage.  But 
this  last  was  a  downward  step;  it  increased  her  for- 
tune, it  lessened  her  fame.  When  a  mere  child  this 
English  maiden  had  married  Dr.  Shaw  ;  but  from  him 
she  separated  because  of  domestic  infelicity,  and 
became  the  fourth  wife  of  manager  Thomas  S. 
Hamblin.  On  the  4th  of  July,  1873,  she  passed 
away,  the  last  of  the  Imogens  before  the  play -going 
era  of  the  present  generation.  Of  those  who  took 
part  with  her  in  the  production  of  1848.  one  at 
least  is  still  living,  the  Iachimo,  Mr.  Wyzeman 
Marshall. 

Not  long-  ago,  in  conversation  with  the  writer,  Mr. 
Marshall,  who  resides  in  Boston,  narrated  an  amus- 
ing story  regarding  this  performance.  Iachimo  had 
passed  through  the  scene  in  Imogen's  chamber,  jot- 
ting down  the  description  of  the  drapery  and  the 
book;  had  returned  to  Posthumus,  and  was  then  nar- 
rating the  fictitious  story  destined  to  arouse  his  sns- 
picions.  While  the  house  seemed  intently  following 
the  story,  just  as  Iachimo  uttered  the  line  regarding 
the  mole,  -  -  i-  By  my  life  I  kissed  it,"'  —  up  sprang  a 
young  man  in  the  very  front  row  of  the  auditorium, 
crying   out,  "It's    a   lie.      It's    a    lie,   by    all    that's 


IMOGEN.  109 

holy!"  The  players  had  to  wait  for  the  audience 
to  recover. 

Somewhere  about  1837  the  divine  Imogen  had 
been  impersonated  lw  Mrs.  George  II.  Barrett,  at  the 
Tremont  Theatre  in  Boston,  to  the  Iachimo  of  the 
elder  Booth.  A  score  of  years  later,  May  21,  1856, 
Mrs.  Barrow  acted  the  part,  at  a  benefit  performance 
at  the  Boston  Theatre,  to  the  Iachimo  of  F.  Daly, 
the  beneficiary,  and  to  the  Balarius  of  John  Gilbert. 
The  Cloten  of  the  evening-  who  had  the  misfortune 
to  cause  a  ripple  of  laughter  through  the  whole 
audience  by  the  unexpected  loss  of  his  wig  during 
the  tragic  light,  was  John  Wood. 

About  this  same  time  Anna  Cora  Mowatt,  also, 
played  Imogen.  Her  career  was  as  interesting  as  it 
was  remarkable.  She  became  an  actress,  and  a  suc- 
cessful one  at  that,  after  a  single  rehearsal,  while 
until  three  months  before  that  rehearsal  and  the 
debut  of  June  13,  18-15,  she  had  never  been  behind 
the  scenes  of  a  theatre.  A  gentle,  refined,  and  edu- 
cated woman,  she  found  it  necessary  to  support  her 
sick  husband  (to  whom  she  had  been  married  when 
but  fifteen  years  of  age),  and,  having  written  a  play 
entitled  '"Fashion,"  she  was  induced  by  its  success 
to  try  acting.  The  heroine  of  the  "  Lady  of  Lyons" 
was  her  first  character.    A  crowded  house  applauded 


110  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

the  plucky  young  wife,  then  only  twenty-six  years 
old,  and  found  pleasure  in  commending  her  fragile 
and  exquisite  form,  soft,  gentle  voice,  winning  witch- 
ery of  enunciation,  subdued  earnestness  of  manner, 
and  grace  of  action.  In  Mrs.  Mowatt's  first  year 
upon  the  stage  she  played  more  important  parts 
more  times  before  different  audiences,  travelling  to 
nearly  every  important  city  of  the  United  States, 
than  is  recorded  for  any  other  actress  in  her  first 
year.  England,  too,  welcomed  the  lady  warmly.  In 
1851  Mr.  Mowatt  died ;  and  on  the  3d  of  June,  1854, 
the  widow  retired,  to  marry,  four  days  later,  Wil- 
liam F.  Ritchie. 

Two  earlier  impersonators  of  Imogen  should  be 
mentioned  before  we  pass  to  the  present  era ;  since 
one,  Miss  Hallam,  was  the  first  actress  to  imperson- 
ate the  character  in  Philadelphia  (1772)  ;  and  the 
other,  Mrs.  Whitlock,  was  the  first  to  act  "  Cymbe- 
lineV  heroine  in  Boston  (1796).  Of  Mrs.  Whit- 
lock we  shall  hear  more  as  Portia.  Miss  Hallam 
inspired  the  Muses.  There  can  be  no  doubt  of  that, 
for  we  have  it  on  the  authority  of  a  writer  who  was 
evidently  as  much  under  their  divine  influence  as  he 
was  overcome  by  the  personality  of  the  mortal  ac- 
tress. "Such  delicacy  of  manner!  Sueh  classical 
strictness  of  expression  !  *'  lie  cried,  through  the  col- 


[MOGEN.  Ill 

urans  of  the  Maryland  Gazette  on  the  6th  of  Sep- 
tember, 1770  ;  and  that  was  seven  days  after  the 
performance,  so  his  ardor  must  have  been  superior  to 
time.  "The  music  of  her  tongue;  the  vox  liquida, 
how  melting-!  Notwithstanding  the  injuries  it  re- 
ceived  from  the  horrid  ruggedness  of  the  roof  and 
the  untoward  construction  of  the  whole  house,  me- 
thouo-ht  I  heard  once  more  the  warbling  of  Cib- 
ber  in  my  ear."  Another  auditor  that  night,  on 
the  authority  of  this  same  enthusiastic  critic,  Mas  so 
carried  away  by  Miss  Hallam's  Imogen,  that  ''Imme- 
diately on  going  home  he  threw  out,  warm  from  his 
heart  as  well  as  brain,"  verses  to  the  "  wondrous 
maid."'  Moreover,  Charles  Wilson  Peale,  the  pupil 
of  Copley,  painted  her  portrait  in  the  character  of 
Imogen. 

It  is  an  interesting  illustration  of  the  brief  history 
of  the  English-speaking  stage,  that  the  father  of  Miss 
Kate  Moore,  who  lived  in  New  York  at  the  time  of 
our  nation's  birth,  should  have  seen  the  first  Ameri- 
can production  of  "  Cymbeline,"  after  having  wit- 
nessed as  a  hoy  the  first  recorded  performance  of  the 
play  on  the  London  stage  (barring  the  production  of 
1633),  and  that  the  son  of  that  daughter  should  have 
seen  the  very  latest  of  the  Imogens  on  any  stage. 
Yet  such  is  the  case. 


112  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

The  grandson  of  brave  old  Colonel  Moore  saw,  not 
only  the  loving,  modest  Imogen  of  Adelaide  Neilson 
in  1877,  and  the  now  almost  forgotten  Imogen  of 
Fanny  Davenport  in  1879,  but  also  the  dainty,  deli- 
cate, winsome  Imogen  of  Madame  Modjeska  in  the 
season  of  1887-1888,  and  the  final  Imogen  of  Julia 
Marlowe  in  1890.  It  was  Miss  Neilson  who  capti- 
vated all  hearts,  arousing1  smiles  of  delio-ht  and  tears 
of  sympathy,  and  who  drew  the  most  delightful 
boy  that  ever  the  cave  scene  brought  to  the  front. 
Her  Posthumus,  Mr.  Eben  Plympton,  was  the  Post- 
humus  also  of  Madame  Modjeska's  Imogen  ten  years 
later.  During  Miss  Neilson's  last  performance  on 
the  New  York  stage,  she  acted  again  the  part  of 
Cymbeline's  daughter.  This  was  at  Booth's  theatre, 
May  24,  1880,  when  she  appeared  at  her  farewell 
benefit  in  scenes  from  "Twelfth  Night,"  "  Romeo 
and  Juliet,"  "  Measure  for  Measure,"  and  "  Cym- 
beline;"  and  when  she  said,  in  her  speech  before  the 
curtain,  "It  seems  to  me  that  I  am  leaving  not  onlv 
friends  but  happiness  itself ;  that  the  skies  can  never 
again  be  as  bright  as  they  have  been  to  me  here,  nor 
flowers  bloom  as  beautifully,  nor  music  sound  as 
sweetly  any  more."  On  the  14th  of  the  following 
August  she  died  in  Paris. 

In  1890  "  Cvinbeline  '"  was  revived  bv  Julia  Mar- 


JULIA    MARLOWE    AS    IMOGEN. 


[MOGEN.  113 

lowe  ;  but  the  bright  young  actress,  whose  Rosalind 
and  Viola  have  been  so  praiseworthy,  did  not  succeed 
in  making  of  Imogen  all  that  the  character  merits. 
The  earlier  scenes  were  acted  to  acceptance  ;  the 
cave  scene  fell  beneath  its  rightful  strength.  And 
vet  it  is  said  that  Miss  Marlowe  regards  Imoo-en 
with  more  affection  than  any  other  character  of 
Shakespeare.  "Imogen  as  a  woman,'''  she  is  quoted 
as  saying,  "seems  to  me  to  possess  every  quality 
which  makes  woman  adorable,  —  youth,  beauty, 
purity,  femininity  in  its  finest  sense,  and  a  touch- 
ing, never-swerving  loyalty.  Juliet.  I  fear,  is  not 
half  so  good  a  woman,  but  she  had  a  more  interest- 
ing thing  happen  to  her.  I  feel  that  had  Juliet 
survived  Romeo  she  might  have  loved  again,  pas- 
sion was  so  much  to  her:  but  with  Imoo-en  that 
whole  question  was  settled  forever ;  it  was  Posthu- 
mus,  not  emotion,  that  moved  her." 

This  latest  revival  of  Cymbeline  dates  just  one 
hundred  and  forty-six  years  after  the  notable  pro- 
duction at  the  Haymarket  Theatre  in  London. 
Notable  is  that  production  solely  because,  in  all  the 
annals  of  the  stage,  there  is  recorded  but  one  earlier 
performance,  and  that  a  century  before.  On  the 
opening  day  of  the  year  1633,  when  the  great  author 
had  been  in  his  grave  for  nearly  seventeen  years,  the 


114  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

play  (as  recorded  by  Sir  Henry  Herbert,  Master  of 
the  Revels  to  King  Charles  I.)  was  given  before  the 
court  by  the  King's  players,  and  was  well  liked  by 
the  King.  There  were,  indeed,  before  Theophilus 
Cibber's  later  revival  of  1744,  several  presentations 
of  Tom  d'Urfey's  twisted  version  of  the  Shake- 
spearian work,  a  version  which  appeared  after  the 
Revolution  under  the  melodramatic  title  of  "  The 
Injured  Princess,  or  the  Fatal  Wager,"  and  which 
had  Mrs.  Bullock  and  Mrs.  Templar  among  its  list 
of  Eugenias  (Eugenia  being  the  new  name  given 
to  Imogen)  :  but  this  version  as  little  interests  us 
as  does  the  later  maltreatment  by  Professor  Haw- 
kins of  Oxford  University,  which  the  author  mod- 
estly claimed  was  an  improvement  on  the  original 
in  certain  characters,  and  which  had  the  comic 
singer,  Mrs.  Vincent,  in  the  chief  role.  For  six 
nights  Hawkins's  adaptation  was  given,  and  then 
disappeared  forever  from  the  theatre. 

Of  the  Shakespearian  revival  of  1744  we  know 
little,  except  what  Mrs.  Charke,  the  daughter  of  Col- 
ley  Cibber  and  the  impersonator  of  many  male  char- 
acters, tells  us.  Her  brother  Theophilus,  she  says, 
would  have  succeeded  at  the  Haymarket,  "  in  par- 
ticular by  the  run  of  'Cymbeline,'  "  had  not  the  Lord 
Chancellor  stopped  his   management.     This  manda- 


IMOGEN.  115 

toiy  action,  she  adds,  "  was  occasioned  by  liis  jealousy 
of  his  having  a  likelihood  of  a  great  run  of  the  last- 
mentioned  play,  and  which  would,  of  course,  have  been 
detrimental  in  some  measure  to  the  other  houses." 

Two  years  later  Covent  Garden  had  the  play 
for  the  first  time  on  its  stage.  That  "  inimitably 
charming "  Rosalind  and  Beatrice,  Mrs.  Pritchard, 
was  the  original  Covent  Garden  Imogen;  and  though 
her  figure  was  not  genteel,  and  though  she  was 
known  to  be  a  coarse,  illiterate  woman  off  the 
stage,  yet  her  strange  power  to  put  on  the  sem- 
blance of  gentility,  like  a  "  property  "  cloak,  made 
of  her,  doubtless,  a  royal  princess,  as  well  as  a  warm- 
hearted wife.  She  may,  indeed,  have  over-acted  the 
scenes  of  grief,  for  so  high  an  authority  as  Garrick 
informed  Tate  Wilkinson  that  Mrs.  Pritchard  was 
apt  to  blubber  out  her  sorrows  on  the  stage ;  but 
this  queen  of  mimic  life  could  not  have  been  in- 
sufficient for  the  role  as  a  whole.  Her  untarnished 
reputation  well  became  an  Imogen. 

Fifteen  years  later  Davy  Garrick  altered  the 
Shakespearian  play,  with  judicious  omissions  and 
transpositions  ;  but  the  fame  of  the  earliest  Imogen 
of  Drury  Lane,  Miss  Bride,  was  short,  Churchill 
sang  of  her  charms  in  his  "  Rosciad,"  dilating  on 
her  "person  fineky  turned"  and  her  other  physical 


116  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

allurements  :  but  the  future  never  echoed  the  praise. 
As  for  Garrick's  Posthumus,  the  dramatic  censor 
declared  that  his  "astonishing  talents  were  never 
more  happily  exerted."  Most  interesting  of  all, 
however,  in  this  production  was  the  affliction  of  poor 
Tom  Davies,  the  gossiping  historian  and  mouthing 
actor.  He  played  Cymbeline,  and  did  not  do  it  well. 
The  reason  he  explained  in  this  touching  note  to 
Garrick:  "I  had  the  misfortune  to  disconcert  you 
in  one  scene,  for  which  I  did  immediately  beg  your 
pardon,  and  did  attribute  it  to  my  accidentally  see- 
ing Mr.  Churchill  in  the  pit  !  with  great  truth  it 
rendered  me  confused  and  unmindful  of  my  busi- 
ness." Churchill,  indeed,  attacked  the  wretched 
player  with  slashing  pen   when  he  wrote  :  — 

"With  him  came  mighty  Davies;  (on  my  life 
That  Davies  has  a  very  pretty  wife!) 
Statesman  all  over,   in  plots  famous  grown, 
He  mouths  a  sentence  as  curs  mouth  a  bone!'" 

This  and  more  lines  like  it  were  finally  too  much 
for  Davies.  Though  he  and  his  wife  were  earning 
five  hundred  pounds  a  year  on  the  stage,  he  would  no 
longer  stay  to  suffer  under  the  satirist's  bitter  lash, 
but  retired,  to  the  great  disgust  of  .Johnson,  and  to 
the  sorrow  of  the  pretty  wife,  who  at  last,  worn  with 
affliction,  meets  her  death  in  a  workhouse. 


IMOGEN.  117 

And  now  appear  players  of  whom  many  an  enter- 
taining anecdote  is  told.  The  dignified,  haughty 
Mrs.  Yates,  who  never  could  satisfactorily  act  the 
tender  roles,  however  well  she  could  picture  the 
majestic  creatures  of  the  stage,  must  have  made 
little  of  sweet  Imogen,  in  spite  of  her  rich  beauty 
of  face.  Her  own  husband  was  the  brutal  lover  of 
the  play,  the  stupid  Cloten,  while  her  stage  husband 
was  the  impassioned  Powell.  Two  years  later  Pow- 
ell died;  a  few  months  after  that  his  bosom  friend, 
Holland,  was  laid  in  the  grave.  Holland  had  a  pre- 
sentiment that  he  should  not  long  outlive  his  boon 
companion,  so  'tis  said ;  and  the  singular  part  of 
their  friendship  was,  that  the  first  time  the  two  met, 
the  one  played  Posthumus  to  the  other's  Iachimo,  in 
a  spouting  club  exhibition ;  the  first  time  they  both 
appeared  on  the  professional  stage  and  the  last  time 
they  ever  played  together  they  had  these  same  parts 
to  act;  while,  to  cap  all,  when  Holland  told  this 
odd  coincidence  to  the  relator,  Dibdin,  he  was  then 
dressed  for  Iachimo  —  and  a  few  days  later  died. 

On  the  very  night  Powell  and  Mrs.  Yates  were 
first  acting  in  "Cymbeline"  in  London,  Dec.  28, 1767, 
Miss  Cheer  was  representing  the  first  Imogen  of 
the  American  stage.  Three  years  later  two  Avomen 
with  most  romantic  careers  were  essaying  the  rdle  of 


118  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

the  noble  heroine  in  London.  The  first  picturesque 
stage  princess  of  1770  was  Mrs.  Barry,  who  now 
lies  in  Westminster  Abbey  by  the  side  of  Spranger 
Barry,  once  the  admired  of  all  stage  lovers.  In  her 
seventeenth  year  this  amorous  daughter  of  a  wealthy 
apothecary  had  been  jilted  by  a  ne'er-do-weel.  Her 
parents  thought  her  like  to  die  of  a  consumption, 
when,  presto,  on  the  scene  dashes  actor  Dancer,  and 
this  delicately  beautiful  Miss  Stead,  the  belle  of  Bath, 
in  spite  of  parental  advice,  marries  the  captivating 
phayer.  Dancer  dies  ;  and  then  she  marries  handsome 
Barry,  and  gains  the  supremacy  of  the  stage.  But, 
alas,  Barry  passes  away ;  and  his  widow,  turning  to 
the  embrace  of  ill-natured  Crawford,  finds  a  brute  for 
a  third  husband,  and  a  home  life  of  desperate  suffer- 
ing. This,  however,  was  several  years  after  she  had 
for  the  first  time  played  Imogen  at  Drury  Lane  to 
Reddish's  Posthumus. 

Of  Reddish's  Posthumus  a  strange  tale  is  told. 
Going  to  the  theatre  to  assume  the  character,  he 
was  met  by  congratulating  friends.  uYes,"  said  he, 
to  their  bewilderment,  "and  in  the  garden  scene  I 
shall  astonish  you."  So  he  pushed  on,  reciting  to 
himself  the  text  of  Romeo.  Even  in  the  oreen- 
room  he  insisted  that  Romeo  was  his  rdle,  and 
a  dire  calamity  was  expected   by  his  fellow-players 


IMOGEN.  119 

when  they  hurried  him  on  the  stage.  But  the  in- 
stant he  saw  the  audience  his  memory  returned,  and 
his  real  part  of  Posthumus  he  acted  ••much  better," 
as  we  are  told  by  Ireland,  "than  I  had  ever  seen 
him."  Yet  when  off  the  stage  the  Romeo  delusion 
returned  again  ;  and  so  it  continued  until  the  end  of 
the  play,  appearing  behind  the  scenes,  disappearing 
in  the  sight  of  the  audience.  As  for  Reddish's 
future,  "after  passing  through  a  variety  of  disgrace- 
ful escapades,*'  said  Bell,  "  he  became  diseased  in 
the  brain,  appeared  for  the  last  time  in  1779,  as 
Posthumus,  was  thrown  upon  the  Fund  for  support, 
and  lingered  out  the  remnant  of  his  wretched  life  as 
a  maniac  in  the  York  asylum." 

The  second  interpreter  of  the  chaste  Imogen,  in 
1770,  was  the  licentious,  abandoned  Mrs.  Baddeley  ; 
she  who  was  celebrated  for  her  voluptuous  face,  her 
large,  melting  dark  eyes  and  full,  rosy  lips,  and  who 
led  a  career  amid  infatuated  dukes  and  lords  and 
rough  colonels,  ending1  with  degradation  in  which  a 
footman  figured.  Yet  her  manner  was  delicate,  her 
utterance  dovelike,  and  in  Imogen,  we  are  told, 
"  her  beautiful  countenance  used  to  excite  the  great- 
est interest/'  Wicked  Mrs.  Baddeley's  flirtation 
with  the  Holland  who  had  played  Tachimo  so  often, 
nearly  broke   the  heart  of  poor,   kind-hearted  Miss 


120  shakespeaee's  heroines. 

Pope.  In  her  old  age  the  benevolent  lady,  with 
tears  in  her  eyes,  told  of  her  trip  to  Strawberry  Hill, 
when  she  chanced  to  see  dear  Mr.  Holland  rowing 
on  the  river  with  "  the  notorious  Mrs.  Baddeley." 
Since  this  episode  broke  the  matrimonial  engage- 
ment of  the  proud  Miss  Pope  and  the  rakish  actor, 
we  can  judge  how  highly  Mas  regarded  the  per- 
sonal character  of  that  lovely  interpreter  of  the  pure, 
sweet  wife  of  Posthumus. 

Another  strange  Imogen  was  now  to  follow  —  an 
amiable,  virtuous  creature!  Her  amours  were  so 
notorious  as  to  lead  even  an  audience  of  that  day  to 
hiss  her;  and  her  temper  was  so  hot  as  to  lead  her, 
unabashed,  to  bid  that  audience  mind  its  own  affairs 
and  let  hers  alone.  With  cheery  little  Dodcl,  the 
clever  stage  fop,  Mrs.  Bulkley  lived  willingly,  but 
not  always  harmoniously.  Once,  indeed,  so  terrific 
a  tumult  was  heard  in  their  room  that  the  landlord, 
mindful  of  his  property,  rushed  to  the  scene.  Chairs 
and  dishes,  broken  and  unbroken,  were  in  confu- 
sion every  where.  But  little  Dodd  was  equal  to  the 
emergency. 

"How  dare  you,"  he  cried -~w' how  dare  you  in- 
terrupt our  rehearsal?  " 

"  Rehearsal  ?  '     stammered  the  landlord. 

wtYes.  sir!  rehearsal,  I  said.     Don't  you  know  we 


IMOGEN.  121 

play  Katherine  and  Petruchio  in  "The  Taming  of 
the  Shrew  '  to-night,  and  are  now  rehearsing  the 
supper  scene  ?     Go,  look  to  the  theatre  bill." 

The  landlord  did  look  to  the  bill  —  and  he  also 
looked  to  his  own  bill  for  damaged  furniture.  Dodd 
paid  the  piper.  His  gentle  companion  it  was  who 
could  sweetly  counterfeit  Imogen  on  the  stage. 

An  unblemished  character  was  the  fortune  of  the 
Imogen  of  two  years  later  date.  Miss  Younge, 
afterwards  Mrs.  Pope,  was  the  renowned  possessor 
of  most  finely  proportioned  shoulders  and  neck,  to 
judge  by  the  praises  sung  by  her  admirers,  who 
could  not.  however,  honestly  allow  her  features  to 
be  more  than  'kfair/'  She  was  the  Cordelia  to  Gar- 
rick's  last  Lear  when,  on  the  night  before  the  actor's 
final  appearance  on  the  stage,  he  gave  a  most  theat- 
rical blessing  to  all  his  friends  in  the  green-room,  and 
especially  to  her.  "  God  bless  you,"  he  cried  in  a 
faltering  voice,  as  she  knelt  at  his  feet,  still  clad  in 
the  robes  of  Lear's  daughter.  Mrs.  Pope  died  in 
1796,  leaving  her  vounger  husband  to  take  for  his 
second  wife  a  less  accomplished  actress,  who  in  the 
year  1800  was  to  essay  Imogen  with  Mr.  Pope  as 
lachimo. 

Now  comes  romping  Dora  Jordan,  who  bewitched 
the  general  public,  enchanted  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds, 


122  shakespeake's  heroines. 

fascinated  actor  Mathews,  and  won  a  maintenance 
from  the  Duke  of  Clarence.  She  was  "Mrs."  Jor- 
dan, not  because  she  was  ever  wedded  to  a  husband 
of  that  name,  but  because  the  name  came  to  her  in 
jest  when  she  crossed  the  theatrical  Jordan,  and 
afterwards  served  by  its  matrimonial  prefix  to  keep 
"frivolous  suitors  at  bay" — frivolous  in  this  case 
meaning  uncongenial.  The  public  never  liked  her 
Imogen  in  woman's  garb.  In  the  male  attire  of  the 
later  scenes  she  caught  their  favor ;  but  in  the  robes 
of  the  princess  she  lacked  natural  dignity,  and  when 
called  upon  to  conquer  the  insolent  Iachimo  "she 
could  not  wear  the  lightnings  of  scorn  in  her  counte- 
nance."  Kemble,  who  played  Posthumus,  was  equal 
to  his  part.  "  It  was  quite  a  learned,  judicious,  and, 
in  the  fine  burst  uptn  Iachimo  at  the  close,  a  most 
powerful  effort,"  wrote  Boaden. 

In  1787  Kemble  played  Posthumus  to  the  Imogen 
of  his  sister,  Mrs.  Siddons,  when  that  greatest  of  ac- 
tresses assumed  the  character  for  the  first  time.  She 
was  "  peculiarly  happy  '  in  the  part,  we  are  told. 
Her  triumph  was  supreme.  Rivalry  with  captivat- 
ing Mrs.  Jordan  spurred  the  original  of  the  Tragic 
Muse  to  her  best  efforts ;  and,  without  diminishing 
the  gentleness  of  the  loving  Imogen,  she  gave  to  her 
the  rightful   majesty  of  character.      But  where   the 


IMOGEN.  123 

reckless  Dora  Jordan  had  delighted  in  Fidele's 
scenes,  Mrs.  Siddons  shrank  from  the  ordeal  of  expo- 
sure. Her  boy's  clothes  were  awkward  and  bulky, 
designed,  by  her  own  wish,  u  to  conceal  the  person  as 
much  as  possible."  She,  who  was  later  to  dress  her 
Rosalind  as  prudishly  as  her  Imogen,  desired  "  to 
assume  as  little  of  the  man  as  was  possible;  "  so  that 
our  old  acquaintance,  Boaden,  is  forced  to  write 
that  "a  figure  nearer  to  that  of  a  boy  would,  by 
increasing  the  visible  probability,  have  heightened 
her  effect  with  her  brothers  in  the  cave." 

For  a  number  of  years  Kemble  kept  the  play 
known  to  the  stage.  In  his  Oovent  Garden  revivals 
lie  played  Posthumus  to  the  Imogen  of  Miss  Smith, 
who  afterwards,  as  Mrs.  Bartley,  visited  America, 
and  to  the  Imogens  of  Mrs.  H.  Johnston  and  Miss 
Stephens  ;  while  Charles  Kemble,  who  was  afterwards 
to  succeed  to  his  more  able  brother's  part  in  Cymbe- 
line,  when  Miss  Foote  played  Imogen  in  1825,  was 
in  the  earlier  productions  of  this  century  the  Gui- 
derius  (Polydore).  When  J.  P.  Kemble  "  first  ex- 
hibited his  most  manly  and  noble  delineation  of 
Posthumus,"  says  a  chronicler  of  his  day.  "'he  used 
to  observe  that  one  of  the  most  pleasing  representa- 
tions he  ever  saw  upon  the  stage  was  the  elegant 
rusticity  of  the  two  boys,  Guiderius  and  Arviragus, 


124  shakespeake's  heroines. 

played    by    C.    Kemble    and    young    Decamp,    who 
looked  really  of  the  same  family." 

Of  Miss  Stephens  it  is  said  that,  though  pure  in 
character  as  the  genuine  Imogen,  she  had  fifty  lovers 
in  her  train,  including  Lord  Milton  and  the  Duke  of 
Devonshire.  -  Her  graces  were  peculiar.  The  critics 
of  old  called  her  figure  pleasing  but  not  elegant,  her 
countenance  fascinating  but  not  handsome.  Ulti- 
mately she  became  the  Countess  of  Essex. 

The  girl,  who  was  first  educated  for  the  operatic 
stage,  but  later  changed  her  inclinations,  played  a 
mad  prank  upon  one  admirer  during  her  days  of 
pupilage.  He  was  a  music-teacher,  and  naturally  fell 
in  love  with  the  sweet  voice  of  the  charming  ballad- 
ist,  as  well  as  with  her  animated  face  and  sparkling 
dark  eyes.  But,  while  the  relatives  of  Miss  Stephens 
accepted  his  attentions,  unfortunately  for  his  aspira- 
tions the  girl  declined  to  regard  him  with  favor. 

Finally,  after  much  urging,  she  was  induced  to 
accept  his  hand.  The  wedding-day  was  set,  the 
guests  assembled  at  the  church,  and  the  bride  and 
groom  began  their  pilgrimage  up  the  long  aisle. 
Then  suddenly  this  strange  creature  glanced  in  an 
odd.  exasperating  way  into  the  face  of  her  lover, 
and,  with  an  inexplainable  laugh,  broke  from  his 
arm  and  ran  at  full  speed  to  her  own  home,  never 
again  to  return  to  his  embrace. 


MISS    STEPHENS.     (Countess   of   Essex.) 
Painted   by   G     H.    Harlow       Engraved   by    H     Meyer 


IMOGEN.  125 

Sorrow  for  the  bridegroom  need  not  be  wasted, 
however,  as  he  afterwards  consoled  himself  for  the 
loss  of  this  vocalist  by  marrying  another  singer, 
who  remained  by  his  side  until  death. 

That,  too,  was  a  freakish  action  on  the  part  of  Miss 
Stephens  when,  in  her  impersonation  of  Ophelia, 
to  the  astonishment  of  the  audience  she  interpo- 
lated, into  the  saddest  scene  of  the  tragedy,  a  mod- 
ern song  of  the  day,  entitled  "  Mad  Bess."  The 
pki}rgoers,  possessed  of  more  good  taste  than  the 
actress,  hissed  her  into  silence  that  night. 

Not  till  she  had  reached  the  fat  and  forty  period 
of  life  did  Miss  Stephens  accept  the  widowed  Earl 
of  Essex,  although  he  had  patiently  waited  years 
for  her  to  make  up  her  mind.  Then  she  marked 
her  really  affectionate  nature  and  generous  dispo- 
sition by  settling  upon  her  mother  and  sister  all 
the  property  —  a  goodly  amount  —  accumulated  dur- 
ing her  career  on  the  stage  ;  to  which  Lord  Essex 
handsomely  responded,  on  the  day  of  the  wedding, 
by  settling  a  jointure  on  his  bride. 

On  the  night  when  the  rival  tragedians,  Edmund 
Kean  and  Charles  Mayne  Young,  had  been  induced 
with  much  difficulty  to  play  Posthumus  and  Iachimo 
together,  Mrs.  W.  West,  a  woman  exquisitely  charm- 
ing in  face  and  beautifully  moulded  in  form,  was  the 


126  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

Imogen.  Her  expression  of  the  divine  passion  was 
never  "  the  fiery  feeling  of  the  wanton,  but  the 
chaster  emotion  of  tenderness,"  so  they  said ;  and  in 
her  love  scenes  she  was  lavish  with  display  of  cling- 
ing adoration.  From  this  description  we  can  easily 
picture  her  Imogen,  especially  when  we  know  that 
harshness  was  not  akin  to  her  nature,  but  that  amia- 
bility ruled  her  pure  heart. 

When  Young,  a  few  years  later,  was  tempted  to 
take  up  the  part  of  Posthumus  to  Cooper's  Iachimo, 
Miss  Phillips  played  Imogen.  This  was  the  Miss 
Phillips  whom  John  P.  Kemble  so  gallantly  escorted 
through  a  crowd  of  turbulent  Irish  admirers  when,  in 
their  roughly  zealous  way,  they  swore,  every  one  of 
them,  to  see  her  home  from  the  theatre.  She  after- 
wards became  Mrs.  Crouch. 

And  now  one  of  the  loveliest  of  Imogens  was  to 
step  upon  the  stage  -  -  Miss  Helen  Fancit,  the  daugh- 
ter of  a  noted  actor  and  a  prominent  actress  ;  the 
sister  of  an  early  player  on  the  American  stage, 
and  later  tin;  wife  of  Sir  Theodore  Martin,  K.C.B. 
Tenderness  and  grace  were  in  all  her  movements, 
said  one  who  saw  her  act  the  part.  Trained  in  the 
school  of  the  Kembles,  she  was  careful  to  make 
every  gesture  of  Imogen  an  embodiment  of  thought 
-too    careful    sometimes,    as    when,    after    the    cry, 


-.  ,<',«»4H 


•j-*. 


=.;"< 


1 


ilia 


* 


MRS.    CROUCH. 


IMOGEN. 


127 


"What  ho,  Pisanio!"  she  remained  with  upraised 
arm  throughout  half  the  speech  of  Iachimo  that  be- 
gins, "  O  happy  Leonatus  !  *  Acting  the  character 
of  the  youthful  wife  when  less  than  twenty  years  of 
age,  and  only  four  years  after  she  had  gone  upon  the 
stage,  Miss  Faucit  was  also  at  the  age  of  forty-six 
to  present  the  role  upon  the  London  stage  again,  and 
to  receive  on  both  occasions  equal  commendation  for 
delicacy  of  conception  and  power  of  execution.  In 
the  production  of  1866  Walter  Montgomery  was  the 
Posthumus.  In  the  earlier  productions  Macready 
played  the  part. 

Macready,  it  seems,  liked  to  alternate  the  charac- 
ters of  Posthumus  and  Iachimo.  The  first  he  played 
as  early  as  1811,  when  he  was  but  eighteen  years 
old.  In  1833,  when  he  played  the  part  again,  he 
declared  in  his  diary,  "  Acted  with  freedom,  energy, 
and  truth,  but  there  must  have  been  observable  an 
absence  of  all  finish."  Four  years  later  he  wrote, 
"Acted  Posthumus  in  a  most  discreditable  manner; 
undigested,  unstudied.  Oh,  it  was  most  culpable  to 
hazard  so  my  reputation  !  I  was  ashamed  of  myself ; 
I  trust  I  shall  never  so  commit  myself  again.  The 
audience  applauded,  but  they  knew  not  what  they 
did  ;  they  called  for  me  with  Miss  Faucit.  I  refused 
to   go  on,  until  I  found  it  necessary  to  go  in  order  to 


128  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

hand  on  the  lady."  Of  his  Iachimo  of  1820  he  said, 
"To  Iachimo  I  gave  no  prominence;  but  in  subse- 
quent years  I  entered  with  glowing  ardor  into  the 
wanton  mischief  of  the  dissolute,  crafty  Italian." 

In  Phelps's  glorious  revivals  at  Sadler's  Wells, 
when  all  but  six  of  Shakespeare's  plays  were  pro- 
duced, "  Cymbeline  "  often  found  place.  One  of  the 
Imogens  was  Laura  Addison,  a  graceful,  easy  actress, 
whose  chief  deficiency  was  lack  of  physical  power. 
Her  Imogen  was  much  admired,  for  in  the  display 
of  womanly  tenderness  and  affection  she  had  great 
capability.  Another  Imogen  of  Sadler's  Wells  was 
Mrs.  Charles  Young,  afterward  Mrs.  Hermann  Vezin. 
She  had  been  on  the  London  stage  only  a  few  days 
when  she  ventured  the  role  of  Cymbeline's  daughter. 
Four  years  later,  when  Edwin  Booth  made  his  debut 
at  the  Haymarket  Theatre,  Mrs.  Young  was  the  Por- 
tia to  his  Shylock. 

A  long  period  of  somnolence  for  "Cymbeline"  was 
relieved  by  the  revival  of  18(5(3.  with  Miss  Faucit  as 
Imogen,  and  by  the  revival  of  1872,  with  Miss  Hen- 
rietta Hodson  as  the  heroine.  But  this  last  pro- 
duction met  with  such  ill  success  as  to  discourage 
thoughts  of  more  revivals,  so  that  the  English  stawe 
of  late  has  seen  even  less  of  "  Cymbeline  "  than  has 
the  American  stage. 


ROSALIND. 
(As  You  Like  It.) 


The  comedy  quickly  changed  to  tragedy.  Joyful 
mimic  life  became  on  the  instant  sad  real  life. 

It  was  natural  Covent  Garden  Theatre  should  be 
crowded  that  night ;  for  were  not  Anderson,  Wigall, 
and  Madame  Gondeau  enjoying  their  benefit  per- 
formance ?  and  was  not  glorious  Peg  Woffington,  the 
pet  of  the  town,  appearing  in  that  role  which  she  so 
admirably  acted,  —  sparkling  Rosalind,  the  heroine 
of  the  Forest  of  Arden  ?  Mistress  Woffington,  to  be 
sure,  though  she  had  not  then  reached  her  fortieth 
year,  had  shown  signs  of  fading  beauty  and  weaken- 
ing strength ;  and  the  young  blades  of  London  had 
begun  to  look  curiously  at  one  another  with  sugges- 
tive glance,  as  if  to  intimate  that  some  day  —  perhaps 
not  to-morrow,  or  the  next  day,  but  yet  before  long 
—  the  gay,  jovial,  dashing  Woffington  would  have 
to  yield  her  leading  place  to  a  new  star  in  the 
sky  of  popular  favor.     But  who  could  have  antici- 

129 


130  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

pated  the  outcome  of  that  fatal  night,  the  3d  of 
May,  1757  ? 

Rosalind  had  changed  her  flowing  gown  for  the 
doublet  and  hose,  and  with  the  devoted  Celia,  in 
whom  the  play-goers  recognized  Mrs.  Vincent,  had 
made  Orlando  swear  eternal  love  in  the  old,  old,  cap- 
tivating way  by  which  the  fair  lady  in  actual  life  had 
drawn  so  many  gallants,  high  and  low\  With  de- 
light the  spectators  fed  their  eyes  on  that  still  linger- 
ing charm  of  face,  heightened  now  by  the  powders 
of  the  dressing-room,  while  the  unpleasantly  rasping 
voice  was  forgotten  in  the  fascination  of  roguish 
action.  But  Peg,  poor  woman,  had  already  felt  a 
premonition  of  ill.  Valiantly  did  she  resist  the  dis- 
tressing faintness  :  and  none  in  the  audience  noticed 
aught  was  wrong  until,  clothed  in  her  bridal  gown, 
Rosalind  entered  for  the  last  act  of  all  in  "  As  You 
Like  It,"  and  the  last  act  of  Woffington  in  her  career 
upon  the  stage. 

Through  the  text  the  actress  struggled  bravely 
until  the  epilogue  was  reached  :  and  then,  with  some- 
thing of  her  old  fervor  and  coquetry,  she  began  :  — 

w*  If  it  be  true  that  good  wine  needs  no  bush,  'tis 
true  that  a  good  play  needs  no  epilogue  "  — 

And  then  she  faltered.  One  last  effort  brought 
her  strength  to  offer  Rosalind's  charge  to  the  women 


^SlPWjjg 


PEG    WOFFINGTON. 
Painted   by    Eccard. 


ROSALIND.  131 

and  to  the  men ;  but  as  she  uttered  the  succeeding 

lines,  — 

"  Tf  T  were  among  yon,  I  would  kiss  as  many  of 
you  as  has  beards  that  pleased  me"  — 

Her  voice  faded  away,  her  eyes  grew  dim,  her 
limbs  trembled,  and  then,  with  the  wild,  despairing 
cry,  "O  God!  O  God!'  Peg  Woffington,  glorious 
Peg  Woffington,  the  idol  of  the  stage,  fell  into  a 
companion's  arms,  stricken  with  paralysis.  Her  last 
words  upon  the  stage  had  been  uttered,  her  last  rSle 
had  been  acted.  Life  itself  hung  in  the  balance  for 
days ;  and  though  partial  recovery  followed,  yet  the 
three  remaining  years  of  her  life  were  the  sad,  hope- 
less, declining  years  of  a  doomed  woman. 

Woffington,  thus  appearing  for  the  last  time  as 
Rosalind  in  17o7,  had  first  essayed  the  character  in 
1742,  and  but  one  actress  is  known  to  have  preceded 
her  in  this  part. 

The  handsome  boy  who,  in  the  time  of  Shake- 
speare, first  sustained  the  lagging  form  of  Celia  in 
the  Forest  of  Arden,  is  not  immortalized  by  recording 
history.  Rosalind,  Celia,  Jacques,  Orlando,  Touch- 
stone, —  all  the  pretty  lads  in  women's  garb  or  mas- 
querading doubtlet  and  hose,  and  the  stalwart  men 
who  interpreted  the  goodly  people  of  "  As  You  Like 
It,"  in  the  initial  performances  of  that  ever-enduring 


132  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

comedy,  before  the  applauding  audience  in  the  rude 
playhouse,  are  "  out  of  the  cast "  to-day.  We  know 
the  actors  ;  we  do  not  know  the  parts  assigned  them, 
save,  indeed,  the  part  assumed  by  the  creator  of  all 
the  characters,  Shakespeare  himself.  From  the  lips 
of  the  brother  of  the  master-poet  has  been  handed 
down  the  tradition  that,  in  one  of  his  own  comedies, 
Shakespeare  appeared  as  a  decrepit  old  man,  with 
long  beard,  who,  fainting  and  weak,  was  borne  by 
another  actor  to  the  table  around  which  men  were 
eating,  the  while  one  sang  for  the  pleasure  of  all. 
Who  else  could  this  be  but  faithful  old  Adam? 

For  a  hundred  years  and  more  after  Shakespeare's 
day  the  delightful  comedy  slept;  though  one  reck- 
less "  adapter,"  at  least,  did  venture  to  put  forward 
an  '••improved  "  comedy  founded  on  the  lines  of  the 
masterpiece.  He  called  it  "  Love  in  a  Forest ;  "  and 
summarily  he  swept  Audrey,  Phebe,  Touchstone, 
William,  and  Corin  off  the  stage,  while,  to  fill  the 
hiatus,  he  interpolated  various  scenes  from  other 
plays.  But  in  1740  the  genuine  version  reappeared 
when,  at  Drury  Lane  Theatre,  the  **  inimitably 
charming "  Rosalind,  Mrs.  Pritchard,  made  love  to 
Milward,  then  in  the  last  year  of  his  life.  She  was 
not  handsome,  this  large-formed,  hard-featured  Mrs. 
Pritchard,    nor    with    her    coarse    expressions     and 


ROSALIND.  133 

thoughts  was  she,  by  nature,  gifted  with  the  intel- 
lectual beauty  of  Rosalind,  yet  she  was  sincere  and 
earnest,  and  she  achieved  success. 

But  a  greater  Rosalind  followed,  a  Rosalind  whose 
lovely  face  would  have  captured  the  world,  even  had 
it  not  been  set  off  by  a  bewitching  roguishness  of 
manner  and  dashing  vivacity  of  action  —  the  Rosa- 
lind of  Peg  Woffington,  whose  solemn  last  imper- 
sonation lias  been  described.  Her  parentage  was 
humble,  as  we  have  seen ;  but  as  the  sparkling  im- 
personator of  Sir  Harry  Wildair  and  of  other 
-breeches  parts,"  of  which  she  was  so  fond,  this 
Peo-  Woffington,  of  fragile  virtue  but  wonderful 
histrionic  skill,  was  long  the  favorite  of  the  town. 

And  next  comes  the  erstwhile  belle  of  Bath,  the 
unfortunate  lady  who,  jilted  by  one  lover,  took  up 
with  another,  and  after  his  death  with  another,  and 
after  his  death  with  still  another.  Mrs.  Dancer,  Mis. 
Barry,  Mrs.  Crawford,  —  all  the  names  belong  to  her, 
and  under  the  first  two  in  turn  she  played  fair  Rosa- 
lind ;  on  the  one  occasion  she  was  thirty-three  years 
of  age,  on  the  other  forty.  kt  The  most  perfect  rep- 
resentation of  the  character  I  ever  witnessed,"  says 
old  John  Taylor.  "  It  was  tender,  animated,  and 
playful  to  the  highest  degree."  She  was  a  modest 
appearing  lady,  in  spite  of  her  amorous  tempera- 
ment,-and  was  graceful  and  attractive. 


134  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

It  was  Spranger  Barry's  .second  appearance  as 
Jaques  on  that  night  when  his  wife,  in  a  costume 
that  defied  archaeology,  first  played  the  dashing, 
roguish  sweetheart  of  Orlando  in  Covent  Garden. 
Mrs.  Mattocks  was  the  Celia,  and  from  her  lips  the 
audience,  with  some  curiosity,  heard  the  words  of 
the  Cuckoo  Song : 

"When  daisies  pied  and  violets  blue 
And  lady-smocks  all  silver  white 
And  cuckoo-buds  of  yellow  hue 

Do  paint  the  meadows  with  delight. 
The  cuckoo  then,  on  every  tree, 
Mocks  married  men  ;  for  thus  sings  he, 

Cnckoo ; 
Cuckoo,  cuckoo  :  O  word  of  fear, 
Unpleasing  to  a  married  ear!" 

The  listeners  wondered  why  Mrs.  Barry  did  not 
sing  the  song.  They  knew  that  the  sprightly,  even 
if  coarse  ditty,  set  to  music  by  Dr.  Ante,  had  been 
stolen  from  "  Love's  Labor's  Lost"  twenty-seven 
years  before,  by  impetuous  Kitty  Clive,  and  inter- 
polated by  her,  as  Celia,  for  the  first  time  in  -'As 
You  Like  It;"  but  they  also  knew  that  Mrs.  Dancer, 
in  the  Drury  Lane  production  seven  years  before, 
had  taken  the  song;  from  Celia  to  herself.  Now, 
why  did  she  let  it  leave  her  lips?  Did  she  realize 
its  inaptness  in  following   Rosalind's  merry,  yet  in- 


SPRANGER    BARRY. 


ROSALIND.  135 

nocent  banter--  for  it  was  introduced  after  the  lines, 
"  Oh,  that  woman  that  cannot  make  her  fault  her 
husband's  occasion,  let  her  never  nurse  her  child 
herself,  for  she  will  breed  it  like  a  fool''  -or  was 
she  losing-  the  music  in  her  voice  ?  We  of  a  cen- 
tury later  do  not  know.  We  do  know,  though,  that 
other  Rosalinds  afterwards  retained  the  song-  in  their 
lines. 

In  Dublin,  as  well  as  in  London,  Mrs.  Barry  acted 
Rosalind;  but  the  unpropitious  gods  of  the  theatre 
brought  the  Dublin  essay  to  disaster,  so  that  hand- 
some, silver-tongued  Spranger  and  his  wife,  de- 
parting the  Irish  shores,  left  behind,  according  to 
the  catalogue  of  goods,  such  things  as  "  battlements 
torn,"  "  elephant  very  bad,"  and  eighty-three  thun- 
derbolts, besides  "a  pair  of  shepherd's  breeches" 
which,  Boaden  is  sure,  belonged  "  to  the  dear 
woman's  own  Rosalind." 

There  were  several  minor  Rosalinds  now  bounding 
on  the  stage  —  for  one,  that  strangely  prudish  Miss 
Macklin,  whose  delight  in  masquerading  as  the  boy 
upon  the  stage  has  been  described,  together  with  her 
strange  modesty  in  refusing  to  allow  a  surgeon  to 
remove  a  tumor  from  below  her  knee  after  tiofht-Q*ar- 
tering  had  brought  that  affliction  upon  her;  for 
another.   Mrs.    Bulkley,  the  original   of   Miss    Hard- 


136  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

castle  in  k%  She  Stoops  to  Conquer "  and  of  Julia 
in  "  The  Rivals ;  "  and  yet  another,  Miss  Younge, 
who  ten  years  later,  as  Mrs.  Pope,  was  to  repeat 
the  character.  Then,  too,  there  was  vulgar  "Tripe" 
Hamilton. 

How  this  woman  could  assume  the  high-bred  bear- 
ing of  Rosalind  would  be  difficult  to  surmise,  when 
one  recalls  the  way  she  won  that  title  of  "  Tripe." 
Her  admirers  always  tilled  the  gallery,  but  never  the 
boxes  ;  and  when  a  rival  actress  threw  out  innuen- 
does about  the  cheap  character  of  her  followers,  Mrs. 
Hamilton  took  revenge  by  failing  to  appear  for  that 
rival's  benefit.  Of  course,  the  disappointed  audience 
hissed  her  when  next  she  did  come  forward ;  but  the 
Queen  of  Spain  (for  in  that  majestic  character  she 
appeared,  with  her  gem-bedecked  head,  according  to 
Colley  Cibber,  resembling  a  furze-bush  stuck  round 
with  glow-worms)  resented  the  disapprobation  with  a 
speech  more  befitting  a  scullion  maid  than  a  Queen, 
and  well  suited  to  win  her  kitchen  title.  "  Gentle- 
men and  ladies,"  declared  the  actress  of  women 
of  quality.  "I  suppose  as  how  you  hiss  me  be- 
cause I  did  not  play  at  Mrs.  Bellamy's  benefit.  I 
would  have  performed ;  but  she  said  as  how  my 
audience  were  all  tripe  people,  and  made  the  house 
smell."     Up  rose  the  pit  to  cry  at  once,  "Well  said, 


ROSALIND.  137 

Tripe ! "  and  "  Tripe  ,:  Hamilton  she  became  from 
that  day. 

There  may  have  been  applause  in  1783,  when  a 
young  actress  of  theatrical  family,  Miss  Frodsham 
by  name,  made  her  first  appearance  in  London,  play- 
ing Rosalind  at  the  Haymarket ;  but  it  was  as  snap- 
ping crackers  to  cannons'  roar  compared  with  the 
plaudits  showered  upon  her  more  famous  father,  the 
York  Roscius  so  called,  when  in  response  to  a  call, 
after  a  certain  performance,  he  dashed  upon  the 
stage  bearing  his  wife  upon  his  back.  It  was  the 
custom  in  those  days  for  a  husband  never  to  apjDear 
without  his  lady  whenever  the  gallery  rained  down 
commands  for  a  curtain  call ;  and  Frodsham,  with 
eccentric  ingenuity,  brought  his  better  half  forward 
as  a  Queen  upon  a  human  chariot.  The  daughter 
of  this  pair  made  her  metropolitan  debut  the  30th 
of  April,  1783,  and  then  ■ —  did  little  else  worthy  of 
record  on  the  London  stage. 

While  this  same  fair  Miss  Frodsham  was  endeav- 
oring to  make  the  town  accept  her  impersonation  as 
ideal,  an  actress  destined  to  be  greater  than  she  ever 
was,  greater  than  all  who  preceded  her,  was  anx- 
iously yet  happily  finishing  her  first  successful  season 
on  the  boards  of  Old  Drury.  A  few  years  before, 
Mrs.    Siddons    had    passed    a   preliminary   season    in 


138  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

London  :  and  though  it  was  her  Rosalind  that,  in  the 
provinces,  had  won  over  Garrick's  ambassador,  and 
so  secured  for  her  the  London  engagement,  yet  she 
was  obliged  to  stand  in  the  wings,  idle  and  envious, 
while  Miss  Younge.  whom  she  was  afterwards  so 
gloriously  to  supplant,  acted  the  part.  We  may 
imagine  the  feelings  of  the  two  —  the  older  actress 
calmly  indifferent  of  the  insignificant  young  lady 
lately  from  the  country ;  the  younger  actress  con- 
fident of  her  powers,  pleased  with  Mr.  Garrick's 
kindness  and  attention,  and  wishing  for  a  single 
chance  to  drive  these  unrecognizing  rivals  from  the 
centre  of  the  stage. 

The  desired  chance  came  at  last,  and  Mrs.  Siddons 
reigned.  Yet  not  with  Rosalind  did  this  magnificent 
actress,  with  her  classic  beauty  and  her  brilliancy  of 
action,  exert  her  full  influence.  And  little  the  won- 
der, considering  that  eccentric  prudery  she  had  re- 
garding all  roles  where  women  must  masquerade  as 
bovs.  For  Ganymede's  doublet  and  hose  she  con- 
structed  a  dress  indicative  neither  of  male  nor  of 
female,  but  designed,  as  she  herself  admitted,  as  a 
screen  to  curious  eyes.  This  costume  the  critics 
ridiculed,  nor  did  they  find  that  Mrs.  Siddons  laid 
aside  sufficiently  her  tragic  air  when  essaying  the 
playful  Rosalind. 


KOSALIND.  139 

"For  the  first  time,"  said  Anne  Seward,  "I  saw 
the  justly  celebrated  Mrs.  Siddons  in  comedy  in 
Rosalind :  but  though  her  smile  is  as  enchanting 
as  her  frown  is  majestic,  as  her  tears  are  irresistible, 
vet  the  playful  scintillations  of  colloquial  wit  which 
most  strongly  mark  the  character  suit  not  the  dig- 
nity of  the  Siddonian  form  and  countenance.  Then, 
her  dress  was  injudicious.  The  scrupulous  prudery 
of  decency  produced  an  ambiguous  vestment  that 
seemed  neither  male  nor  female." 

Miss  Seward,  however,  found  some  points  to  favor 
in  the  impersonation,  declaring  that  when  Mrs.  Sid- 
dons first  came  on  as  the  Princess,  nothing  could  be 
more  charming ;  and  praising  also  the  scene  where 
the  actress  resumed  her  original  character  and  ex- 
changed comic  spirit  for  dignified  tenderness.  So, 
too,  others  praise  the  beauty  of  the  Siddons's  elo- 
cution, pointing  particularly  to  her  delivery  of  the 
lines,  "My  pride  fell  with  my  fortunes,"  and,  "Sir, 
you  have  wrestled  well  and  overthrown  more  than 
your  enemies."  But,  altogether,  there  was  too  much 
of  the  tragic  in  her  constitution  to  meet  the  playful 
wit  and  sportive  fancy  of  roguish  Rosalind,  while 
that  prudery  with  the  boy's  dress  was  denounced 
even  by  Boaden,  her  biographer.  It  demonstrated, 
he   thought,    "  the  struggle  of  modesty  to  save  all 


140  shakespeake".s  heroines. 

unnecessary  exposure;"  but  yet  it  -more  strongly 
reminded  the  spectators  of  the  sex  which  she  had 
laid  down,  than  that  which  she  had  taken  up." 
Mrs.  Siddons  had  no  idea  of  hiding  her  motive  in 
designing  her  new  costume.  She  wrote  plainly  to 
Hamilton,  the  artist,  asking  "  if  he  would  be  so  good 
as  to  make  her  a  slight  sketch  for  a  boy's  dress  to 
conceal  the  person  as  much  as  possible.*' 

Young  affirmed,  indeed,  that  '•her  Rosalind  wanted 
neither  playfulness  nor  feminine  softness,  but  it  was 
totally  without  archness  —  not  because  she  could 
not  properly  conceive  it,  but  how  could  such  a 
countenance  be  arch?"  It  was  a  bitter  disappoint- 
ment, we  may  well  believe,  to  be  scolded  by  the 
critics  in  this  role  ;  for,  as  Mrs.  Abington  years  after- 
wards remarked  to  Crabb  Robinson,  "Early  in  life 
Mrs.  Siddons  was  anxious  to  succeed  in  comedy, 
and  played  Rosalind  before  I  retired."  To  which 
quotation  Mr.  Robinson  adds,  "  Mrs.  Siddons  she 
praised,  though  not  with  the  warmth  of  a  genuine 
admirer." 

Very  rarely  did  the  great  Siddons  repeat  her 
Rosalind.  Perhaps  from  the  stage  she  saw  in  the 
auditorium  such  strange  scenes,  during  the  comedy, 
as  Croker  pictures  in  his  "  Familiar  Epistles  on  the 
Irish  Stage  "  when  a  lady  wept  plentifully  through- 


ROSALIND.  141 

out  the  whole  of  "As  You  Like  It,"'  while  Mrs. 
Siddons  was  playing  Rosalind,  from  an  unhappy  im- 
pression that  it  was  the  character  of  Jane  Shore  in 
the  tragedy  of  that  name.  "I  am  glad  to  relate 
the  anecdote,"  lie  adds,  with  dry  humor,  "that  so 
much  good  tears  should  not  go  for  nothing." 

Mrs.  Siddons  was  twenty-nine  when  she  first 
played  Rosalind.  Mrs.  Jordan  was  twenty-five 
when  she  first  frolicked  in  the  Forest  of  Arden ; 
and  after  Dora  Jordan  embraced  the  character,  the 
Siddons  shrank  from  its  arms.  Mrs.  Jordan  was 
not  the  most  beautiful  of  Rosalinds,  by  any  means; 
but  her  merry  vivacity,  her  rollicking  spirit,  and 
her  fine  figure  carried  the  town  by  storm.  For 
many  a  year  after  that  there  was  no  Rosalind  like 
Jordan's.  "There  never  was,  there  never  will  be, 
there  never  can  be  "  her  equal  in  the  part,  declared 
one  enthusiastic  writer. 

For  this  reason  it  was  natural  that  expectations 
should  run  high  when  Mrs.  Alsop  first  essayed  the 
role  of  Rosalind,  for  Mrs.  Alsop  was  the  daughter 
of  Dora  Jordan.  But,  alas!  neither  a  physical  nor 
a  mental  resemblance  to  the  noted  mother  was  de- 
tected. "The  truth  is,"  said  Hazlitt,  speaking  of 
her  Rosalind,  "  Mrs.  Also})  is  a  very  nice  little 
woman  who  acts  her  [tart  very  sensibly  and  cleverly, 


142  shakespeaee's  heroines. 

and  with  a  certain  degree  of  arch  humor,  but  is  no 
more  like  her  mother  than  we  are  to  Hercules.  Her 
voice  is  clear  and  articulate,  but  not  rich  or  flowing. 
In  person  she  is  small,  and  her  face  is  not  prepos- 
sessing. Her  delivery  of  the  speeches  was  correct 
and  excellent  as  far  as  it  went,  but  without  much 
richness  or  power." 

Mrs.  Alsop  had  lived  in  Wales  on  an  allowance 
from  her  mother  before  taking  up  the  stage ;  and, 
as  Mrs.  Jordan  lived  for  a  year  after  the  daughter's 
essay  with  Rosalind,  the  latter  probably  continued 
a  pensioner  even  after  she  started  upon  a  theatrical 
career.  Her  husband  was  a  worthless  fellow.  He 
it  was,  who,  dissolute  and  unscrupulous,  had  not 
hesitated  to  raise  the  blank  checks  generously  given 
him  by  his  mother-in-law  to  sums  entirely  unex- 
pected by  her,  and  then,  overwhelmed  by  debts, 
to  quit  his  wife  and  country.  He  had  been  a  clerk 
in  the  Ordinance  office  before  marrying  Frances,  the 
daughter  of  Dora  Jordan  and  Magistrate  Ford. 
Mrs.  Alsop  herself  came  to  America  as  a  "star," 
and  died  May  2,  1821,  in  Charleston,  S.C. 

Now  comes  Miss  Duncan,  a  bright  maid,  an  ex- 
cellent actress,  and  a  woman  who  spent  her  years 
from  childhood  till  death  in  the  service  of  her  Muse, 
fair    Comedy.      It   was    Miss    Duncan    who    created 


ROSALIND.  1 43 

the  role  of  Juliana  when  "The  Honeymoon"  was 
first  brought  out;  and  Elliston,  her  first  Orlando, 
was  the  original  Duke  Aranza  in  Tobin's  still  sur- 
viving  play.  "The  Little  Wonder"  was  the  title 
given  our  Rosalind  by  her  predecessor  in  high 
comedy,  Miss  Farren  ;  and  both  as  maiden  and  as 
wife  Mrs.   Duncan-Davison  satisfied  the  eulogy. 

There,  too,  were  Miss  Wallis;  Mrs.  Bartley,  after- 
wards the  first  Hermione  of  "The  Winter's  Tale" 
that  America  ever  saw ;  Miss  Boyle  :  slender,  ele- 
gant Mrs.  Yates;  Mrs.  Henry  Siddons,  daughter-in- 
law  of  the  great  Siddons;  Mrs.  Sterling;  and  Miss 
Brunton.  As  to  Mrs.  Henry  Siddons,  she  appears 
to  have  been  superior  to  her  husband  on  the  stage, 
though  he  was  the  son  of  the  great  Siddons.  The 
Stranger  was  the  only  role  in  which  he  achieved  any 
degree  of  success ;  while  she,  as  Miss  Murray  and  as 
Mrs.  Henry  Siddons,  had  the  grace  and  charming 
manner  of  a  perfect  lady,  as  Avell  as  histrionic 
ability. 

Miss  Tavlor,  whom  Leigh  Hunt  so  enthusiast!- 
cally  praised,  and  lovely  Miss  Foote,  who  after- 
wards became  the  Countess  of  Harrington,  now 
followed ;  but  let  them  pass,  for  the  days  of  Nis- 
bett  and  of  Faucit  are   at  band. 

The    tall,   supple,    buoyant    daughter    of    Captain 


14-t  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

Macnamara,  the  original  of  Miss  Fotheringay  in 
"  Pendennis,"  was  a  beautiful  woman ;  and  though 
in  the  eyes  of  Macready  she  was  unequal  to  the 
part  of  Rosalind  when  plajxd  to  his  Jaques,  yet 
Samuel  Phelps,  a  warm  lover  of  Shakespeare's  work, 
made  of  Nisbett's  Rosalind  an  idol.  Listen  to  the 
experienced  manager  of  Sadler's  Wells :  "  Not  hav- 
ing seen  her,  you  don't  know  what  beauty  is.  Her 
voice  was  liquid  music.  Her  laugh  —  there  never 
was  such  a  laugh  !  Her  eyes,  living  crystals,  lamps 
lit  with  light  divine  !  Her  gorgeous  neck  and  shoul- 
ders—  her  superbly  symmetrical  limbs,  her  grace, 
her  taste,  her  nameless  but  irresistible  charm."  It 
was  as  Rosalind  that  the  handsome  Mrs.  Nisbett  was 
last  seen  upon  the  stage,  appearing  then  under  An- 
derson's management  at  Drury  Lane  with  the  mana- 
ger as  Orlando,  Vandenhoff  as  Jaques,  and  Cooper 
as  Adam.  Under  the  low  forehead  of  this  Rosalind 
shone  brilliant  eyes  that  lighted  up  the  clear  oval 
face,  over  which  tossed  a  crown  of  wavy  dark  hair, 
making  an  ideal  heroine  in  portraiture  as  well  as  in 
action.  Little  wonder  she  gained  rank  off  the  stage 
as  well  as  on. 

Mrs.  Louisa  Nisbett  became  Lady  Boothby ;  Miss 
Helen  Faucit  became  Lady  Theodore  Martin.  To 
Miss  Faucit's  Rosalind.  Macready  gave  glowing  com- 


HELEN    FAUCIT.     (Lady    Martin.) 
Painted  by  Mrs.  Murgrave  (nee  Heaphy).      Engraved  by  J.  C.  Armytage. 


ROSALIND.  145 

mendation.  Her  noble  figure,  lovely  face,  gentle 
voice,  and  expressive  action  enabled  her  to  enter 
into  the  soul  of  Orlando's  tantalizing  sweetheart. 
In  1845  Miss  Faucit  played  the  character;  and  again 
in  187i>  she  acted  the  part  —  a  Rosalind  at  twenty- 
five,  a  Rosalind  at  fifty-nine.  It  was  her  final  role 
upon  the  stage,  as  it  had  been  the  last  of  Mrs. 
Nisbett, 

To  Phelps's  Jaques.  when  that  actor-manager  car- 
ried out  his  splendid  revival  of  Shakespeare  at  Sad- 
ler's Wells,  Mrs.  Charles  Young,  afterwards  Mrs. 
Hermann  Vezin,  was  a  sweet  and  vivacious,  but 
rather  monotonous  Rosalind:  while  to  Charles  Kean's 
Jaques,  in  his  noticeable  revivals  at  the  Princess's, 
Ellen  Tree  (Mis.  Charles  Kean)  was  a  splendidly 
successful  heroine.  Her  sister,  Maria  Tree,  also 
ti'ied  the  part,  but  with  only  moderate  success. 

How  they  troop  upon  the  stage,  these  Rosalinds  of 
later  days  —  Mine.  Vestris,  Fanny  Cooper,  and  that 
noblest  of  Cleopatras.  Isabel  Glyn-Dallas;  Millieent 
Palmer  and  Carlotta  Leelerq,  with  whom  Fechter  in 
America  was  associated ;  the  lovely  Mrs.  Rousby, 
the  beautiful  Mrs.  Scott-Siddons,  great  granddaugh- 
ter of  Mrs.  Siddons  of  old.  Sarah  .1.  Woolgar,  and 
Mary  Provost;  Amy  Sedge  wick,  who  at  the  age  of 
twenty-four  tried  the  rdle  without  much  success,  and 


146  shakespp^are's  heroines. 

Margaret  Robertson,  whom  the  present  generation 
admires  as  Mrs.  Kendal ;  Alice  Marriott,  a  Hamlet 
as  well  as  a  Rosalind  and  a  Lady  Macbeth  of  the 
stage ;  and  Jean  Davenport,  to-day,  as  Mrs.  Lander, 
claimed  as  an  American ;  Mrs.  Langtry,  the  elegant 
if  not  handsome  Marie  Litton,  the  second  Miss  Wal- 
lis,  now  better  known  as  Mrs.  Lancaster-Wallis,  Marie 
De  Grey,  Ada  Cavendish,  —  no.  why  mention  the 
names?  Of  all  the  later  Rosalinds  one  alone  stands 
pre-eminent,  Adelaide  Neilson. 

A  lovely,  fascinating  Rosalind  was  Miss  Neilson. 
Her  arch  smile,  as  she  looked  back  at  her  friends  in 
the  mystic  forest,  said  one  admirer,  describing  the 
scene,  made  her  face  seem  half  divine,  and  the  tones 
of  her  voice  were  as  a  suffusion  of  sweet  sounds, 
ranging  high  and  ranging  low.  Her  utterance  of 
the  simple  words.  "  woo  me  !  woo  me  !  "  to  Orlando, 
as  her  cheek  was  laid  upon  his  shoulder  and  her 
arm  stole  coyly  about  his  neck,  was  sweet  as  a 
blackbird's  call  to  its  mate.  And  asrain  in  saying  to 
her  lover,  "  Ay,  go  your  ways  !  go  your  ways  !  .  .  . 
"lis  but  one  east  awav,  and  so.  come,  death."  the 
low,  thrilling  cadences  filled  the  house  with  such 
mournful  music,  such  despairing  sweetness,  as  were 
never  heard  there.  The  effect  upon  the  audience 
was  almost  miraculous;  for  a  stillness  fell  upon  it. 


ROSALIND.  147 

broken  only  by  .some  sobbing  women  in  the  boxes, 
who,  in  the  next  moment,  were  startled  from  their 
delicious  tears  by  the  actress's  sudden  change  to  the 
most  jubilant  laughter,  evoked  by  her  triumphant 
befooling1  of  her   lover. 

Lilian  Adelaide  Neilson  —  or,  if  we  were  to  use 
her  little  known  real  name,  Elizabeth  Ann  (Brown) 
Lee  —  was  in  her  twenty-third  year  when  these 
praises  were  sung,  shortly  after  her  first  appearance 
as  Rosalind  in  America  :  but  she  had  originally 
played  the  part  four  years  before  that  (Sept.  25, 
1868)  at  the  Edinburgh  Theatre  Royal,  and  on  the 
18th  of  December,  1871,  had  acted  Rosalind  at  Drury 
Lane,  London.  The  beautiful  girl,  with  romantic 
Spanish  blood  in  her  veins,  at  the  age  of  fourteen 
had  run  away  from  home,  and  after  sundry  escapades 
as  a  bar-maid,  had  secured  a  place  upon  the  stage 
where,  at  the  age  of  seventeen,  she  was  to  make 
her  debut  in  a  part  afterwards  the  most  famous  in 
her  repertoire,  though  then  giving  her  little  suc- 
cess, that  of  Juliet.  Shortly  after  her  Edinburgh 
performance  of  Rosalind,  an  influential  critic,  Mr. 
Joseph  Knight,  of  the  London  Athenaeum?,  saw  her 
play  a  melodramatic  role,  and  declared  that  ''prac- 
tice and  care  are  alone  required  to  secure  for  Miss 
Neilson  a  high  and   enduring  reputation."      Tt  was 


148  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

that  criticism,  as  the  actress  understood,  which 
started  her  reputation  upon  the  high  road  of  popu- 
larity ;  and  so  much  did  she  appreciate  the  effect 
that,  in  her  will,  she  left  to  Mr.  Knight  five  thou- 
sand dollars. 

The  romantic,  poetic  drama  was  essentially  Miss 
NeilsoiTs  forte,  while  her  splendid  figure  gave  addi- 
tional appropriateness  to  her  selection  of  Rosalind 
as  one  of  her  chief  characters.  Though  somewhat 
slight  in  form,  she  had  a  royal  hearing;  and  her 
small,  shapely  head  was  set  off  by  large,  voluptu- 
ous eyes  and  ruddy-brown  hair.  That  she  studied 
Rosalind  carefully  is  illustrated  by  an  incident  nar- 
rated some  years  ago  by  L.  Clarke  Davis:  in  a  well- 
thumbed  pocket  volume  of  w'As  You  hike  It."  lying 
on  her  table,  were  found  scraps  of  paper,  torn  note 
sheets,  and  fragments,  all  written  over  in  her  clear, 
hold  hand,  with  such  conclusions  as  she  had  evolved 
from  almost  every  passage  in  the  part  of  Rosalind. 
It  is  of  her  first  Rosalind  in  America  that  the  same 
writer  says  :  "  From  the  rising  of  the  curtain  to  the 
fall  there  was  nothing  more  apparent  than  that  the 
actress  was  in  exquisite  sympathy  with  the  part.  So 
much  was  this  the  case  that  when  in  the  fourth  act 
she  was  told  of  her  lover's  hurt,  and  she  seemed  to 
affect  such  counterfeit  distress,  her  eves  were  swim- 


ROSALIND.  149 

ming  in  real  tears,  and  her  bosom  heaved  with  sor- 
row  that  was  not  counterfeit.  It  was  not  alone  the 
glamour  of  youth,  beauty,  and  classic  grace  which 
filled  the  spectator's  mind  with  pleasurable  emotion, 
but.  adding  to  the  charm  of  the  character  and  the 
completeness  of  the  artist's  triumph,  were  the  intel- 
ligence to  recognize  the  subtle  wit,  the  delicate  re- 
finement,  and  the  masterful  power  to  portray  them 
all.  In  the  more  tender  and  emotional  passages  of 
the  play  her  quiet  pathos  appealed  irresistibly  to 
every  heart;  for.  underlying  all  she  did,  there  was 
a  wondrous  sweetness  of  womanly  dignity  and  an 
adherence  to  nature  which  rendered  the  performance 
altogether  worthy  of  her  fame." 

Neilson  twice  afterwards  visited  America,  playing 
Beatrice,  Isabella,  Viola,  and  Imogen.  In  1877  she 
was  divorced  from  her  husband.  Philip  Lee,  an  Eng- 
lish clergyman's  son;  and  on  May  -4,  1880,  at 
Booth's  Theatre,  she  gave  her  farewell  performance. 
The  following  August  she  was  dead  in  Paris.  It 
is  an  interesting  fact  to  notice,  —  a  point  which 
comes  to  mind  as  I  hold  the  scattered  memoranda 
of  dates  before  me,  —  that  while  Neilson,  the  chief 
of  later  Rosalinds,  first  essayed  the  character  in  18G8 
at  Edinburgh,  in  the  same  city  Helen  Faucit,  the 
chief  of  all  Rosalinds  back  to  the  days  of  Macready, 


150  SHAKESPEARE'S    HEROINES. 

a  year  later  made  lier  la.st  appearance  at  the  Scottish 
capital  (always  very  friendly  to  her)  in  that  same 
character. 

Westland  Marston  —  the  veteran  English  play- 
wright who  died  hut  recently,  and  who  had  written 
for  Miss  Neilson  that  play  of  "Life  for  Life,"  in 
which  she  so  happily  attracted  the  critical  attention 
of  Mr.  Knight — was  wont  to  regard  Miss  Neilson's 
Rosalind  as  best  in  its  humorous  side.  He  thought 
she  failed  in  the  poetry  of  the  character,  but  excelled 
in  an  almost  wanton,  hoidenish  frolicsomeness  that 
captured  the  audience. 

Here  in  America  Rosalind  had  originally  sprung 
into  existence  the  year  after  Mrs.  Siddons  had  first 
shown  her  super-modest  Ganymede  to  London  town. 
Indeed,  America's  first  Rosalind  may  have  seen  the 
great  Siddons  in  the  role,  for  three  months  before 
Mrs.  Kenna  delighted  our  forefathers  with  the  pic- 
ture of  the  frolicsome  lady  of  Arden  that  actress  was 
in  England.  She  had  been  drawn  to  the  New 
World  as  an  addition  to  the  little  colony  of  play- 
actors here  settled  ;  and  on  the  14th  of  July,  1780,  in 
the  rough,  gaudy-colored  John  Street-  Theatre  in 
Xew  York,  she  impersonated  the  "heavenly  Rosa- 
lind." 

The  Quaker  City,  some  six  years  later,  saw  the 


ADELAIDE    NEILSON. 


ROSALIND.  151 

second  Rosalind  in  the  chubby-faced,  sprightly  little 
Mrs.  Marshall.  She,  too,  had  come  from  England, 
but  her  departure  from  the  mother-land  was  under 
less  honorable  conditions  than  those  of  the  preceding 
Rosalind:  there  she  was  known  as  Mrs.  Webb,  but, 
as  one  wit  of  the  day  said,  —  alluding  to  the  actor, 
Mr.  Marshall,  —  "  A  son  of  sock  became  entangled 
with  a  dramatic  Webb,"  and  hence  the  two  emi- 
grated across   the  water. 

In  Boston  the  first  Rosalind  (1794).  but  nineteen 
years  of  age,  was  a  bride  of  only  a  few  months. 
The  obnoxious  legislative  act  of  1750.  prohibiting 
theatrical  performances,  had  at  last,  in  1793.  been  re- 
pealed, and  a  theatre  was  quickly  erected  at  the  cor- 
ner of  Federal  and  Franklin  Streets.  It  was  opened 
Feb.  3,  1794,  with  Charles  Stuart  Powell  as  manager. 
The  season  was  not  very  successful ;  but  better  re- 
sults were  anticipated  when,  on  the  15th  of  Decem- 
ber, 1794.  the  second  season  opened  with  "  As  You 
Like  It,"  and  Mrs.  Brook's  "  Rosina." 

In  those  days  there  came  forward  the  first  profes- 
sional dramatic  critic  in  America.  Thomas  Paine,  the 
son  of  Robert  Treat  Paine,  one  of  the  signers  of  the 
Declaration  of  Independence.  Thomas  Paine  —  who 
afterwards  changed  his  name  to  Robert  Treat  Paine, 
Jr.,  because  he  wanted  "a  Christian  name,"  and  who 


152  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

married  Miss  Baker,  of  the  theatre,  only  afterwards 
to  pay  too  much  attention,  for  family  harmony,  to 
other  ladies  of  the  corps  dramatique — -was  a  young 
man  finely  educated  and  gifted  with  poetic  tastes. 
He  pronounced  Mr.  Taylor,  as  Orlando,  a  valuable 
acquisition  to  the  company,  declaring  that  he  eclipsed 
every  competitor.  Celia  and  Rosalind  were  two  sis- 
ters, the  one,  Miss  Harrison,  with  "neither  face,  nor 
voice,  nor  form,  nor  action.  "  the  other,  Mrs.  Snel- 
ling  Powell,  who  displayed  as  the  heroine  "more 
than   her  usual  excellence." 

The  tall,  elegant,  and  beautiful  Mrs.  Johnson, 
whose  life  was  a  model  of  propriety,  and  whose 
orace  and  taste  set  the  fashion  for  the  fine  ladies  of 
New  York  a  hundred  years  ago,  soon  took  up  the 
captivating  role,  and  on  one  occasion  to  her  there 
bowed,  with  foppish  elaboration,  a  Le  Beau  whom 
the  world  of  to-day  must  regard  with  as  warm  a 
favor  as  did  the  world  of  yesterday  -  -  for  has  he  not 
o-iven  to  us,  through  his  son,  that  most  perfect  of 
dramatic  idealists,  Joseph  Jefferson?  In  the  first 
month  of  the  year  1798,  'k  As  You  Like  It,"  with 
Mrs.  Johnson  as  Rosalind,  opened  the  Park  Theatre 
in  New  York. 

A  rather  curious  fact  in  the  history  of  Mrs.  Duff, 
the   noted   trasfic   actress   of    the    early    part   of    this 


ROSALIND.  153 

century,  lay  in  the  fact  that  she  acted  Rosalind  but 
once  in  her  entire  career.  That  was  on  the  1st  of 
April,  1822,  when  she  and  her  husband  were  mem- 
bers of  the  Boston  Theatre  Company.  The  spark- 
ling eyes  that  lighted  up  her  handsome  face,  the 
trim,  well-formed  figure,  and  the  musical  voice 
accredited  to  this  actress  in  her  youth,  might  well 
make  her,  at  the  age  of  twenty-eight,  an  excellent 
Rosalind  in  appearance;  but  her  bent  was  toward 
tragedy,  and  "  As  Von  Like  It"  nevermore  appeared 
in  her  repertoire. 

As  Rosalind.  Ellen  Tree  made  her  American  debut, 
Dec.  12.  1836.  On  Jan.  29,  1842,  after  playing  in 
u  The  Honeymoon"  at  Dublin  with  Charles  Kean. 
she  was  privately  married  to  that  capable  son 
of  a  remarkable  actor:  and  on  April  4th  of  that 
year,  the  names  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Charles  Kean  ap- 
peared for  the  first  time  together  in  London,  at  the 
Haymarket,  in  "As  You  Like  It"  and  a  few  other 
standard  plays.  Three  years  later  Mr.  Kean  for  the 
third  time  visited  America:  and  while  the  lady  re- 
peated her  Rosalind  here,  with  other  parts  (and  im- 
pressed her  spectators  with  having  lost  her  earlier 
beauty  and  fascination).  Mi1.  Kean  then  gave  his 
first  interpretation  of  Jaques  in  this  country.  From 
1850    to    1859   Kean   made    the   Princess's    Theatre 


154  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

famous  for  its  Shakespearian  revivals,  "As  You  Like 
It"  being  brought  out  there  in  1851.  But  Kean's 
bronchial  trouble  turned  his  bard's  own  words 
against  him.  His  performance  of  Jaques  was 
summed  up  by  a  critic  in  this  paraphrase  of  lines 
from  »  As  You  Like  It."  "How  does  this  Charles?" 
"He  cannot  speak,  my  lord."     "Take  him  away!  " 

When  Charlotte  Cushman  returned  from  her  suc- 
cesses in  Europe,  she  gave  "As  You  Like  It"  dur- 
ing her  first  engagement  in  New  York.  She  had 
been  tempted  to  England  by  the  encouragement  of 
Macready;  and  there  in  the  spring  of  1845,  when  she 
was  in  her  twenty-ninth  year,  she  Avon  a  recognition 
that  naturally  set  her  heart  in  a  flutter.  "Mrs. 
Nisbett's  Rosalind,"  exclaimed  one  enthusiast,  "  was 
a  sweet  bit  of  acting,  full  of  honey :  Madame  Ves- 
tris's  Rosalind  is  all  grace  and  coquetry ;  Miss 
Helen  Faucit's  (by  far  the  best  of  them)  is  full  of 
wit,  mirth,  and  beauty;  but  Miss  Cushman  is  Rosa- 
lind." Yet  other  English  critics --and  American 
critics  later  —  found  the  great  tragedienne  too  heavy 
for  the  character,  lacking  the  proper  buoyancy  and 
exuberance.  When  Miss  Cushman  first  played  the 
character  after  her  return  to  America,  in  October, 
1849,  the  Jaques  of  the  east  was  C.  W.  Couldock, 
then    making   his    dibut    in    this    country,   but    now 


ROSALIND.  155 

known  from  one  end  of  the  hind  to  the  other  as  the 
original  Dunstan  Kirke  in  "  Hazel  Kirke." 

Many  a  fair  Rosalind  is  to  be  recalled  by  those 
play-goers  with  whom  the  memory  of  former  years 
still  diners.  In  fact,  then,  as  now,  almost  every  lead- 
ing  actress  sought  the  bright  and  captivating  role. 
But  from  the  long  list  may  be  selected  a  number 
whose  performances  are  of  especial  interest. 

There  was  the  beautiful  Mrs.  Barrett,  wife  of 
"  Gentleman  George,"  whose  own  sad  habits  were  her 
worst  enemies.  There,  too,  was  Charlotte  Crampton, 
petite  and  fascinating  actress  of  sad  career,  whose 
delight  for  robust  rSles  led  her  to  essay  not  only  the 
spectacular  Mazeppa,  but  also  Hamlet,  Shylock,  and 
Richard.  Laura  Addison,  one  of  the  Sadler's  Wells 
group  of  actresses,  coming  to  America  in  1851, 
played  Rosalind  here,  but  her  death  a  year  after 
her  American  dehut  limited  the  acquaintance  Ameri- 
cans had  with  her  acting.  Mrs.  Anderson,  nee  Ophe- 
lia Pelby,  well  known  to  Boston  play-goers  :  Mrs. 
Cramer ;  Mrs.  Thomas  Barry,  an  actress  of  celebrity, 
and  the  wife  of  an  actor-manager  of  note  ;  the  srrace- 
ful  Mrs.  W.  Humphrey  Bland,  sister  of  Helen  Faucit 
of  the  English  stage,  and  herself  the  first  interpreter 
in  America  of  Shakespeare's  Cleopatra :  Mrs.  W. 
H.  Smith,  long  a  favorite  in  Boston:  and  Mrs.  J.  W. 


156  shakespeake's  heroines. 

Wallack.  Jr.,  one  of  the  famous  family  in  the  annals 
of  America's  stage  —  were  all  heroines  of  Arden. 

Before  undue  weight  brought  listlessness  to  Jose- 
phine  Clifton,  her  beauty  of  face  and  neatness  of 
person  made  her  an  attractive  Rosalind  to  look  upon. 
She  had  not  passed  her  fourth  decade  when  death 
suddenly  came.  In  1831  she  made  her  dSbut ;  four 
years  later  she  played  in  London,  having  the  distinc- 
tion (so  it  is  claimed)  of  being  the  first  American- 
born  actress  to  visit  England  as  a  star:  two  years 
after  that  she  received  from  N.  P.  Willis  the  manu- 
script of  the  tragedy  "Bianca-  Visconti,"  which  he 
had  written  for  her.  A  little  more  than  a  year  before 
her  death,  which  occurred  in  1847,  she  married 
Robert  Place,  a  New  Orleans  manager. 

A  more  sterling,  intellectual  interpreter  of  Rosa- 
lind was  found  in  Mrs.  Jean  Davenport  Lander,  who 
in  "Medea,"  ••Queen  Elizabeth,"  and  "Marie  Stuart," 
courted  rivalry  with  Ristori,  and  whose  noble  work 
for  the  soldiers  in  the  Rebellion,  after  she  had  become 
the  wife  of  a  Union  officer,  added  to  that  personal 
fame  she  had  won  by  her  excellent  acting.  Mrs. 
Bannister,  another  Rosalind,  was  the  ('assy  in  the 
first  production  in  New  York  (1853)  of  Aikens's  ver- 
sion of  "Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,"  the  version  which  was 
afterwards  to  hold  the  stage  for  years.     Mrs.  Anna 


ROSALIND.  157 

Cruise-Cowell,  who  played  Juliet  to  Charlotte  Cush- 
man's  Romeo,  was  a  Ganymede  in  her  younger  days, 
making  her  Boston  dSbut  in  that  character  at  the  old 
National  Theatre  in  the  season  of  1847-1848. 

An  admirable  Rosalind  of  a  little  later  date  was 
Mrs.  E.  L.  Davenport,  who  has  but  recently  passed 
away,  and  whose  husband  was  a  Jaques  worthy  of 
fame.  Among  the  other  Rosalinds  to  Davenport's 
Jaques  was  Miss  Rose  Evans.  Mrs.  Anna  Cora 
Mowatt,  author  as  well  as  player;  Mrs.  W.  M.  Flem- 
ing and  Mrs.  Thomas  Flyim  ;  Mrs.  John  Drew,  who 
began  her  stage  career  in  America,  sixty-eight  years 
ao-o,  as  the  Duke  of  York  to  the  Richard  III.  of 
Junius  Brutus  Booth,  and  who  is  still  living,  an  un- 
excelled Mrs.  Malaprop;  and  Eliza  Logan,  whose 
mobile  face  and  attractive  voice,  so  it  is  said,  won  a 
Georgia  planter  to  such  enthusiasm  that,  on  the  spur 
of  the  moment,  he  presented  her  with  a  negro  slave, 
instead  of  the  customary  floral  offering  —  these  were 
Rosalinds  well  worth  remembering. 

Miss  Kimberly,  the  lady  who  would  play  heavy 
tragedy,  comedy,  drama,  and  farce  in  the  same  en- 
ofao'ement  with  her  "  As  You  Like  It "  production, 
and  who  would  even  essay  the  character  of  Hamlet, 
appeared  in  Rosalind  before  Laura  Keene  took  up 
the   role.     The   latter,   whose    experience   was    filled 


158  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

with  so  many  ups  and  downs,  played  Rosalind  dur- 
ing her  first  appearances  on  the  American  stage  at 
Wallack's  Lyceum,  New  York,  with  the  elder  Wal- 
lack  as  Jaques,  and  "J.  Lester,"  the  name  that  then 
disguised  the  afterwards  famous  Lester  Wallack, 
as  the  sighing  Orlando.  This  production  marked 
the  closing  of  the  first  season  of  Wallack's  man- 
agement  of  the  theatre.  Miss  Keene  opened  her 
new  theatre.  Nov.  18,  1856,  with  "As  You  Like 
It,"  and  then  acted  Rosalind  "  with  great  arch- 
ness and  vigor,"  making  "  a  remarkable  escape  from 
the  coarser  temptations  in  which  the  character 
abounds." 

The  beautiful  Mrs.  Julia  Bennett  Barrow,  who, 
though  English  horn  and  the  daughter  of  an  English 
player,  adopted  the  American  stage  after  the  honey- 
moon of  her  marriage  had  passed,  became  a  favor- 
ite in  this  land,  and  delighted  many  with  her  bril- 
liant Rosalind. 

Mrs.  Mary  E.  Scott-Siddons,  the  classic  beauty 
and  highly  cultured  lady  of  the  English  stage,  — 
though  never  so  successful  behind  the  footlights  as 
she  was  upon  the  reading  platform,  in  spite  of  her 
histrionic  name,  —  held  Rosalind  as  a  favorite  in  her 
repertoire,  and  on  one  occasion  alternated  with  Clara 
Jennings   the    part   of   Rosalind   with    that  of   Celia. 


ROSALIND.  I.V.I 

Her  London  debut  was  made  as  Rosalind,  and  her 
American  debut  was  made  as  Rosalind.  It  was  of 
Mrs.  Scott-Siddons  that  Fanny  Kemble  said,  "  Her  ex- 
quisite features  present  the  most  perfect  living  min- 
iature of  her  great-grandmother's  majestic  beauty." 
Born  a  Siddons,  and  married  to  a  gentleman  by  the 
name  of  Canter,  she  became  a  Scott-Siddons  through 
her  husband's  adopting  the  maiden  name  of  his 
mother,  and  uniting  that  witli  the  patronymic  of 
his  wife,  because  his  father  had  put  forth  most 
strenuous  objections  to  having  his  honored  name  go 
upon  the  programs  of  the  play-house.  Mrs.  Scott- 
Siddons  was  twenty-five  when  she  first  played  Rosa- 
lind. 

Other  heroines  of  Arden  crowd  the  scene,  —  it 
were  impossible  to  mention  every  ambitions  actress, 
or  would-be  actress,  who  has  essayed  this  favorite 
role,  —  and  play-goers  with  more  or  less  vividness 
recall  as  Rosalind,  Fanny  Davenport,  who  now  ap- 
parently has  deserted  comedy  for  nerve-tingling 
tragedy ;  Louise  Howard  ;  Rose  Coghlan,  who  had 
the  distinction  of  acting  Rosalind  in  the  first  open- 
air  performance  in  America  (at  Manchester,  Mass., 
Aug.  8,  1887)  ;  Mrs.  Louise  Pomeroy ;  Agnes  Booth  ; 
Annie  Clark,  for  so  many  years  the  favorite  leading 
lady  at  the   Boston   Museum:    and    Mary  Anderson, 


160  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

who  appeared  as  Rosalind  for  the  first  time  at  the 
Shakespeare  Memorial  Theatre  at  Stratford-on-Avon, 
Aug.  29,  1885,  six  weeks  or  more  before  her  appear- 
ance in  the  character  on  the  American  stage. 

We  all  know  how  the  later  Rosalind  of  Miss 
Anderson  was  regarded.  Let  us  see  what  an  expert 
critic  thought  of  the  young  American's  first  attempt 
with  the  character.  This  was  what  William  Archer, 
the  London  writer,  said  at  that  time:  "  Her  Rosalind 
was  girlish  rather  than  womanly;  but  it  was  so 
brightly,  frankly,  healthily  girlish  that  to  have  quar- 
relled with  it  would  have  been  sheer  captiousness." 
Her  reproving  speech  to  the  Duke  in  the  first  act,  he 
held,  was  too  loud  and  unpolished,  "invective  rather 
than  self-restrained  sarcasm  :  "  but  in  the  forest  scene 
her  success  was  assured.  "  A  cleverly  designed  cos- 
tume, modest  without  prudery,  combined  with  her 
lithe,  well-knit,  and  in  no  way  redundant  figure  to 
make  her  a  perfect  embodiment  of  the  saucy  lackey. 
Her  claret-colored  mantle,  exquisitely  handled,  gave 
her  the  means  for  much  significant  by-play  through 
which  she  prevented  the  audience  forgetting  her  sex, 
without  in  any  way  suggesting  it  to  Orlando.  Her 
tastefulness  was,  perhaps,  the  great  charm  of  her 
Rosalind." 

After  Mary  Anderson  Ave  saw  Adele   Belgarde,  a 


ADA    REHAN. 


ROSALIND.  1»)1 

young  Mississippi  lady,  who  made  her  experimental 
dSbut  as  Romeo  in  1879,  and  her  professional  debut 
as  Rosalind  the  same  year  in  New  York  ;  Adelaide 
Moore,  the  comely,  graceful  actress  drawn  to  the 
stage,  as  she  claimed,  through  the  fascination  of  the 
earlier  Rosalind,  Adelaide  Neilson  ;  Ada  Rehan,  Julia 
Marlowe,  Margaret  Mather,  and  Minna  Gale,  whose 
impersonations  are  so  familiar. 

Rehan's  glorious  regality  of  form  and  bearing  has 
made  audiences  bow  before  the  imperiousness  of  her 
proudly  uplifted  head,  her  dashing  figure,  and  her 
purring  voice.  Marlowe's  beautiful,  deep  eyes,  mod- 
est demeanor,  and  winsome  maidenliness  have  wound 
a  web  of  equal  fascination  around  admirers  who  can 
praise  Minerva  while  they  bend  before  Juno.  Rehan 
has  conquered  in  Rosalind:  Marlowe  has  charmed. 
Against  the  ardent,  exultant  Ganymede  of  Mr.  Daly's 
leading  actress  but  one  small  criticism  is  expressed- 
and  that  a  smile  at  the  odd  little  shriek  of  the  lady 
of  the  supposed  "swashing  outside''  when  she  dis- 
covers Orlando,  a  nervous  shriek  for  all  the  world 
like  a  school-girl  discovering  a  mouse. 

A  lithe,  supple  Rosalind,  with  a  merry  sparkle  in 
the  eye  and  a  jovial  brightness  in  the  tone,  is  Julia 
Marlowe's  portrait  of  our  heroine.  Glad  in  brown 
from  top  to  toe,  —  doublet  and  hose,  hat  and   cloak, 


1<>2  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

wallet  and  gloves  all  one  color,  —  and  with  the 
proper,  high-strapped  boots  to  serve  as  protectors  in 
the  briery  wood ;  this  is  the  framing  for  the  pretty, 
mobile  face  of  Mrs.  Marlowe-Taber.  She  looks  Or- 
lando straight  in  the  eye  ;  she  claps  Sylvius  sturdily 
on  the  shoulder  ;  she  manfully  chides  the  amorous 
Phebe ;  and  she  describes,  with  true  sense  of  humor, 
the  chance  meeting  witli  her  father  when  he  knew 
not  his  daughter.  In  short,  her  Rosalind  is  a  girl 
of  spirit  who  enjoys  the  masquerade. 

Miss  Mather's  costuming  of  the  character  (it  is 
needless  to  say  much  of  her  acting,  since  by  giving 
a  sweet,  lovable  Rosalind,  with  nothing  of  the  roguish 
and  assumed  martial  air,  she  misses  the  kev-note  of 
the  part)  is  a  good  illustration  of  the  inaccuracy  too 
often  found  upon  the  stage.  Her  Ganymede  wan- 
ders through  the  brambles  in  low  lace  boots  that 
must  themselves  suffer  severely  in  the  bush,  and 
cause  more  suffering  to  the  tender,  unprotected  flesh 
of  Rosalind ;  while  the  meeting  of  the  characters 
in  the  final  act  is  emphasized  in  somewhat  start- 
ling manner  —  unless  we  assume  a  Worth  to  have 
lived  in  the  enchanted  forest  —  by  the  display  of 
fashionable,  elaborate  dresses  suddenly  brought  to 
light. 

Rose   Coghlan,   picturesque   and   accurate   in    cos- 


ROSALTND.  163 

tume,  with  her  noble-toned  voice,  her  crystal  enun- 
ciation, and  her  dashing  bearing,  gives  to  Rosalind 
a  robust  style  and  an  incessant  animation  that  last 
in  the  memory. 

Modjeska's  Rosalind  is  chiefly  to  be  criticised  as 
being  too  dainty  and  over-refined :  to  which  criticism, 
however,  the  actress  answers  that  those  who  think 
Rosalind  should  be  rough  and  boisterous  should  recall 
the  words  of  the  Duke  in  the  first  act:  "  Her  smooth- 
ness, her  very  silence,  and  her  patience  speak  to  the 
people,  and  they  pity  her." 

Ada  Cavendish,  the  English  actress  alreadv  men- 
tioned,  first  assumed  the  garb  of  Ganymede  while  on 
a  tour  of  this  country ;  and  Carlotta  Leclercq,  pro- 
nounced too  heavy,  sensuous,  and  demonstrative  in 
the  role,  Mrs.  Rousby,  Amy  Sedgwick.  avIio  gave  the 
part  such  a  lugubrious  tone  as  to  rob  it  of  its  vivacity 
and  archness,  and  Mrs.  Langtry,  are  among  the  Eng- 
lish actresses,  other  than  those  already  mentioned, 
who  have  given  in  the  United  States  their  imper- 
sonations of  Rosalind. 

All  our  early  actresses,  naturally,  were  English 
born,  and  for  many  }rears  the  most  noted  stars  on  the 
American  stage  were  visitors  from  the  British  theatre. 
Hut  now  reciprocity  is  recognized  ;  and  while  the  Eng- 
lish players  appear  in  this  land,  the  American  play- 


164  SHAKESPEARE'S    HEROINES. 

ers  cany  their  interpretations  to  the  home  of  their 
cousins.  Yet,  it  must  be  admitted,  preponderance 
in  number  still  favors  the  people  of  the  tight  little 
isle.  It  ma)*  be  different  in  years  to  come.  Let  us 
hope  so. 


CLEOPATRA. 
(Antony  and  Cleopatra.) 


The  long  wooden  pathway  was  crowded  with  peo- 
ple. Its  rough  covering'  served  to  keep  off  the  driz- 
zling rain  of  the  late  April  evening-:  and  though  the 
play-goers  of  the  day.  a  century  and  a  quarter  ago, 
were  more  accustomed  to  the  discomforts  of  life  than 
are  the  modern  theatre  patrons,  yet  from  the  ill- 
kept  streets  they  gladly  sought  refuge  within  the 
dingy  wooden  theatre,  whose  bright  red  decoration 
was  its  chief  noticeable  feature. 

In  the  manager's  little  office  Douglass  was  anx- 
iously considering  the  prospects  of  the  evening, 
reckoning  tip  the  chances  of  this  first  New  York 
production  of  Dryden's  "All  for  Love"  tilling  the 
house  to  its  full  capacity  of  eight  hundred  dollars, 
and  hoping  that  his  Cleopatra  would  uphold  the 
popularity  she  had  won  as  Juliet  and  Imogen,  as 
Ophelia  and  Cordelia.  Perhaps  he  felt  a  little  prick- 
ing   of    conscience    for    his    exhibition   of    Dryden's 

105 


166  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

picture  of  the  "  Serpent  of  tlie  Nile  "  instead  of  the 
great  master  poet's  dramatic  portrait ;  but  lie  was 
merely  following  the  precedent  then  ruling  in  the 
English  theatres.  The  American  stage  was  in  its 
infancy ;  and  plays,  players,  and  ideas  regarding 
plays  and  players,  naturally  were  all  borrowed  from 
the  mother  land.  Moreover,  the  precedent  of  giving 
Dryden's  adaptation  was  already  established  by  a 
Philadelphia  production  of  March  9,  1767,  when 
Miss  Cheer,  with  other  members  of  this  same  original 
American  company,  performed  the  play  for  one  night 
only. 

The  actors  down  in  the  green-room  under  the  stage 
of  this  newly  built  John  Street  Theatre,  of  the  town 
of  New  York,  shivered  in  the  damp  air,  and  won- 
dered why  the  curtain  was  not  raised.  In  the  easiest 
chair  —  though  not  by  any  means  an  easy-chair  - 
sat  the  popular  Miss  Cheer,  reflecting  on  a  new  tri- 
umph imminent  in  Cleopatra,  but  not  foreseeing  the 
great  disaster  of  later  years,  when  with  beauty  lost 
through  advancing  age,  and  with  a  married  name  to 
take  away  the  impressionable  charm  of  maidenhood, 
she  was  to  return  to  the  stage,  after  the  Revolution, 
only  to  be  received  with  dissatisfied  silence  and  to 
be  relegated  to  minor  characters. 

A   more   romantic   horoscope    would    have    flashed 


CLEOPATRA.  167 

before  the  eyes  of  pretty  Maria  Storer,  the  child  of 
Mark  Antony,  had  that  little  maid  possessed  the  gift 
of  clairvoyance.  Happy  for  her  and  for  her  sister, 
the  Octavia  of  the  evening,  that  she  was  not  so 
gifted.  Else,  indeed,  they  would  not  have  sat  so 
long  in  the  dim  light  of  the  open  fire  with  hands 
warmly  clasped.  This  little  "fairy,"  as  the  histo- 
rians of  the  time  called  her,  this  beautiful,  talented, 
petite  Maria,  when  years  went  by,  was  to  many 
the  handsome  actor  Henry,  while  her  own  sister, 
his  deserted  or  deserting  wife,  but  not  his  divorced 
wife,  was  still  living,  and  while  still  another  sister, 
an  earlier  wife  of  Henry,  was  but  a  few  years  in  her 
grave  beneath  the  ocean's  waters.  Her  husband's 
sudden  death,  her  own  loss  of  reason,  and  her  death 
in  mental  oblivion,  were  all  inscribed  upon  the  tab- 
lets of  life  of  that  spirited  little  player. 

In  three  hours,  however,  this  benefit  performance 
of  April.  28,  1768,  passed  into  history,  and  then 
Cleopatra  disappeared  from  the  stage  for  almost  pre- 
cisely seventy-eight  years.  On  April  "27,  184(3,  she 
reappeared,  but  now  as  Shakespeare's  heroine  in 
the  first  production  in  America  of  "  Antony  and 
Cleopatra."  It  was  at  the  Park  Theatre  in  New 
York  that  the  hundred  lights  in  the  three  great  chan- 
deliers shone  down  upon  an  audience  whose   pleased 


168  SHAKESPEARES    HEROINES. 

faces  were  made  the  more  noticeable  by  this  brilliant 
illumination.  Who  could  withstand  the  beauty  of 
those  classic  features,  the  grace  of  that  shapely 
figure,  or  the  charm  of  tluxt  sweet  voice  with  which 
the  debutante  of  that  season,  the  fair  Mrs.  Bland,  was 
blessed?  The  buzz  of  admiration  went  its  rounds  as 
this  sister  of  Macready's  leading  lady,  Helen  Faucit, 
and  daughter  of  a  Cleopatra  of  the  English  stage, 
Mrs.  Faucit,  made  her  impressive  entrance  in  queenly 
pride  with  queenly  retinue.  Alas !  the  lovely  em- 
press of  that  night,  the  ruler  of  hearts  for  a  time  in 
the  cities  of  New  York  and  Boston,  was  to  enjoy 
but  two  more  short  years  of  life.  Her  husband,  the 
Enobarbus  in  this  initial  cast  of  America,  was,  on 
the  other  hand,  destined  to  a  good  old  age. 

Stiff,  ungraceful,  but  earnestly  sympathetic  Dyott 
pictured  the  Octavius  Caesar  before  that  audience  of 
forty  and  more  years  ago,  while  Vandenhoff,  an 
adept  with  such  dashing,  martial  characters  as  An- 
tony, showed  the  Roman  lover  in  all  his  amorous 
passion.  Of  Octavia  those  play-goers  of  1846  knew 
little,  save  that  a  few  months  before  she  had  made 
her  debut  in  the  "Child  of  Nature."  To-day  such 
of  them  as  are  living  recall  the  fact  that  the  Mrs. 
I).  P.  Bowers,  whose  experience  still  warrants  her 
acting  as  a  star  in  Shakesperian  characters,  is  iden- 


CLEOPATRA.  169 

tical  with  the  Miss  Crocker  who  then  essayed  the 
role  of  Caesar's  sister. 

But  the  curtain  fell,  and  the  lights  went  out,  and 
royal  Cleopatra  slept  again  in  the  archives  of  the 
theatrical  library,  riot  to  be  awakened  until  called  to 
speak  the  farewell  upon  the  stage  of  the  old  Broad- 
way thirteen  years  after  her  first  appearance  with 
Shakespeare's  historical  people  around  her.  As  be- 
fore, it  was  an  English-born  woman  who  appeared, 
but,  unlike  the  earlier  Cleopatra,  one  destined  to  be- 
come by  adoption  a  thoroughly  American  actress, 
and  one  who  was  until  recently  an  active  member  of 
the  theatrical  fraternity,  Mme.  Ponisi.  Nine  years 
before,  she  had  come  to  this  country  alone  and  a 
stranger  to  all,  with  but  two  seasons  of  experience 
within  the  theatre  to  serve  as  her  recommendation. 
Here  she  has  remained  to  make  her  name  indissolu- 
bly  connected  with  the  splendid  history  of  Wallack's 
Theatre,  and  to  enioy  the  distinction  of  beino-  the  last 
Mrs.  Hardcastle,  as  John  Gilbert  was  the  last  Mr. 
Hardcastle,  to  which  Lester  Wallack's  Young  Mar- 
low  (his  final  character  upon  the  stage)  was  to  play. 

One  of  the  Jeffersons  was  with  her  in  this  classical 
production  of  1859,  Mrs.  G.  C.  Germon,  the  Char- 
mian  of  the  cast,  the  clever  actress  who  seven  years 
before  had  created  the  roles  of  Cassy  and   Eliza  in 


170  shakespeakk's  heroines. 

the  original  production  of  that  version  of  "  Uncle 
Tom's  Cabin  "  which  was  destined  to  hold  the  stage 
to  the  present  day,  and  perhaps  forever.  With  her, 
too,  as  Iras,  was  Ada  Clare,  the  "Queen  of  Bohe- 
mia,'* then  but  twenty-three  years  of  age  and  little 
dreaming  of  her  future  picturesque  life,  to  be  closed 
by  a  sad  and  terrible  death,  in  madness  born  of 
hydrophobia. 

A  month  passed  by.  Mr.  Manager  Eddy,  trans- 
ferring his  company  of  actors  from  the  Broadway  to 
Niblo's  for  a  summer  season,  now  tempts  the  play- 
goers with  a  new  Cleopatra,  the  delicate,  refined,  once 
captivating  Julia  Dean.  The  south  had  rapturously 
accepted  this  graceful  New  York  actress,  had  named 
race-horses  and  steamboats  in  her  honor,  had  o-lori- 
ously  illustrated  the  truth  of  Phoebe  Cary's  warm- 
hearted praise  to  this  kl  mistress  of  a  thousand  hearts," 
and  had  given  her  in  marriage  the  son  of  its  greatest 
orator,  the  opponent  of  Webster.  Its  last  offering, 
however,  it  might  better  have  withheld;  for  the  ro- 
mantic attachment  which  was  first  made  known  to 
the  parental  eye  by  the  appearance  of  the  graceful 
actress  hand  in  hand  with  the  young  Doctor  Hayne 
on  a  certain  Sunday  afternoon  in  the  year  1855,  when 
Dean  pere  was  quietly  and  happily  smoking  his  cigar 
on  the  sheltering  piazza  of  a   Texan   hotel,  totally 


MRS.  JULIA    DEAN-HAYNE 


CLEOPATRA.  171 

ignorant  of  the  sudden  shock  to  be  administered  to 
him  —  this  attachment,  so  curiously  announced,  was 
to  be  followed  by  discontent,  dislike,  and  divorce. 

But  on  the  occasion  of  Cleopatra's  appearance  at 
Niblo's,  the  young  matron  of  nine  and  twenty  was 
but  four  years  a  bride,  and  she  could  portray  the 
amorous  glow  of  the  Egyptian  siren  with  full  reali- 
zation of  its  warmth,  and  perhaps  dream  —  under 
the  impulse  of  her  golden-lined  trip  to  the  western 
Eldorado  of  that  day  —  that  the  opulence  of  the 
historic  heroine  might  yet  be  hers  as  well. 

How  sad  the  other  side  of  the  picture !  The  grace- 
ful actress,  whose  intelligence  and  exquisite  reading 
••  lent  a  charm  to  her  performances  which  soon  car- 
ried her  to  a  point  of  popularity  rarely  exceeded,*' 
returned  from  California  to  find  herself  a  queen 
dethroned.  "  There  was  hardly  a  sentence  of  pure 
English  in  the  text,  or  a  scene  that  was  not  marred 
by  mannerisms  or  affectations  ;  she  mouthed  and 
strutted,  sawed  the  air  with  her  hands,  tore  her 
passion  to  tatters."  — all  this  said  of  the  Mrs.  Hayne 
who  had  developed  from  the  charming  Julia  Dean. 
Her  debut  had  been  made  at  the  age  of  sixteen, 
thirteen  years  before  our  Cleopatra  appearance;  her 
death  occurred  in  18(38.  at  the  age  of  thirty-eight. 
"Throw  open  the  window;  I  want  air,**  she  had  cried 


17^  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

in  her  sickness,  one  year  after  her  second  marriage, 
to  James  E.  Cooper;  but  before  the  nurse  could  obey, 
Julia  Hayne-Cooper  gave  one  gasp,  and  died. 

Nearly  a  score  of  years  rolled  by  before  the  me- 
tropolis again  tempted  a  Cleopatra  to  the  stage, 
though  her  neighbor,  old  Puritan  Boston,  listened  to 
the  wily  tones  of  the  seductive,  regal  wanton  twice 
iii  the  interval.  Bostonians  first  heard  the  lines  of 
Shakespeare's  Cleopatra  read  in  1870  by  Isabel  Gtyn- 
Dallas,  one  of  England's  greatest  Cleopatras,  then 
past  the  age  for  acting,  but  yet  a  favorite  upon  the 
platform.  On  the  26th  of  Deeember  of  that  same 
year  Agnes  Booth  assumed  the  role  during  a  star 
engagement  of  Walter  Montgomery  (as  Mark  An- 
tony) at  the  Boston  Theatre  ;  and  six  years  later  she 
played  the  same  part  at  Niblo's,  New  York,  to  Joseph 
Wheelock's  Antony. 

The  next  Cleopatra,  and  the  last  before  Mrs. 
James  Brown  Potter's  recent  revival  of  the  charac- 
ter, was  Rose  Ej^tinge,  who.  seven  months  after  Mrs. 
Booth's  essay,  gave  what  has  been  called  her  finest 
impersonation  at  the  Broadway  Theatre,  formerly 
Wood's  Museum,  now  Daly's  Theatre,  in  New  York. 
Her  Antony  was  Frederick  Warde.  J.  B.  Waldron, 
who  played  Enobarbus,  ought  to  be  mentioned  be- 
cause  of  the  simile  his  performance  called  forth  from 


ROSE    EYTINGE 


CLEOPATRA.  173 

William  Winter,  who  likened  Waldron's  description 
of  the  barere  to  "an  Irishman  describing  a  canal-boat." 

Miss  Eytinge  had  gained  historical  success  as  the 
leading  lady  at  Wallack's  Theatre,  and  had  acted 
successfully  Beatrice,  Lady  Gay  Spanker,  Nancy 
Sykes,  and  Mrs.  Sternhold,  as  well  as  Rose  Michel 
and  Felicia  in  the  two  dramas  bearing  those  names. 
Her  first  marriage  with  David  Barnes,  an  editor  and 
theatre  manager  of  Albany,  had  been  unhappy  ;  so  in 
after  years  she  married  George  Butler,  the  nephew 
of  Gen.  B.  F.  Butler.  When  the  young  man.  through 
the  influence  of  his  uncle,  was  appointed  consul-gen- 
eral to  Egypt,  his  wife  accompanied  him  there  ;  and 
in  the  land  of  the  Nile  planned  her  portrayal  of  the 
Egyptian  Queen,  even  seeking  there  the  fabrics  from 
which  the  costumes  of  the  Ptolemies'  daughter  were 
to  be  made.  The  second  marriage,  like  the  first, 
ended  in  divorce,  and  Miss  Eytinge  became  the  wife 
of  the  English  actor,  Cyril  Searle. 

When  Rose  Eytinge  played  Cleopatra,  she  was 
forty-two  years  of  age.  Mrs.  Dean-Hayne  was  twenty- 
nine  when  she  first  played  the  part,  and  Mrs.  Booth 
was  twenty-seven ;  so  that  players,  at  least,  have 
illustrated  the  fact  that  Cleopatran  fascination  is 
dependent  neither  on  youthful  bloom  nor  on  mature 
experience. 


174  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

Other  actresses  have  dreamed  of  playing  the  part. 
Adelaide  Neilson  began  the  study  of  Cleopatra  before 
she  died.  Madame  Modjeska  thought  of  assuming 
the  character.  But  the  courage  to  undertake  the 
complex  role  at  short  notice  belonged  to  Mrs.  Cora 
Urquhart  Potter,  who  first  donned  the  robes  of 
Egypt's  Queen  in  188(J.  She  had  then  been  upon  the 
professional  stage  but  two  years,  having  graduated 
from  amateur  theatricals  to  make  her  debut  as  a  New 
York  "  society  actress."  Her  Cleopatra,  like  her 
other  characters,  was  vigorously  condemned ;  but  yet 
it  attracted  audiences  wonderfully,  partly  from  sen- 
sational (and  overdrawn)  descriptions  of  the  gauzy 
garments  of  the  Egyptian  Queen.  Her  Antony  was 
Kyrle  Bellew. 

Madame  Bernhardt  and  Miss  Fanny  Davenport 
have  taken  Sardou's  conception  of  Cleopatra  into 
their  rSpertoire,  while  in  England  Mrs.  Langtry  has 
been  the  last  to  revive  the  Shakespearian  character. 

On  the  18th  of  November,  1890,  the  lovely  "Jer- 
sey Lily,"  as  the  world  then  called  the  English  "so- 
ciety actress,"  appeared  at  the  Princess's  Theatre  in 
the  gorgeous  pageant,  that,  with  its  ballet  dances 
and  grand  processions  of  soldiery,  made  a  spectacle 
rather  than  a  drama  of  "'Antony  and  Cleopatra." 
With   her   fair   complexion    nncolored.  and  her  own 


< 

o 

Ul 

_l 
O 

> 

h- 
o 


CLEOPATKA.  175 

beautiful  hair  hanging  over  her  shoulders,  the  Queen 
of  the  night  was  a  picture  to  look  upon:  hut  her 
languid  and  pettish  manner,  and  her  undisciplined 
force  combined  to  make  the  impersonation  weak. 
With  her  as  Antony  was  Charles  Coghlan  :  and  as 
Proculeius  there  was  the  same  Henry  Loraine  who, 
twenty-three  years  before,  had  aeted  Antony  to  Miss 
Glyn's  Cleopatra. 

Few  were  the  rivals  Mrs.  Langtry  could  find  linger- 
ing in  the  recollections  of  even  the  oldest  play-goers. 
for  few  are  the  Cleopatras  that  have  graced  the  stage 
of  England  at  any  time.  A  curious  fact  it  is  that 
the  first  recorded  production  of  a  play  on  the  subject 
of  Antony  and  Cleopatra  was  not  the  production  of 
Shakespeare's  tragedy:  and  it  is  also  noticeable  that 
Shakespeare's  play  was  not  seen  after  the  Restoration 
until  1759.  and  that  it  then  disappeared  again  for 
nearly  a  century.  Dryden's  "  All  for  Love,  or  the 
World  Well  Lost"'  ruled  the  stage.  In  1677,  the 
year  before  Dryden's  play  was  brought  out.  Charles 
Sedley's  rhymed  tragedy  was  heard  at  Dorset  Gar- 
den :  but  that  versified  dramatization  told  merely  of 
Antony's  jealousy  over  Cleopatra's  honoring  recep- 
tion to  Csesar's  messeno-er.  Thyreus,  and  so  neither 
Shakespeare's  nor  Dryden's  admirers  needed  to  dread 
the  popularity  of    this  little    affair.     The  Cleopatra 


176  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

of  Sedley's  play  was  Mrs.  Mary  Lee.  a  lady  who 
leaped  into  society  four  years  later,  when  she  be- 
came Lady  Slingsby,  and  leaped  with  equal  celer- 
ity into  oblivion,  when  she  retired  forever  from  the 
stage  four  years  after  her  union  with  the  Yorkshire 
baronet. 

But  Dryden's  play,  first  given  in  1678  with  Mrs. 
Boutell  as  Cleopatra,  and  produced  even  as  late  as 
1818  with  Miss  Somerville  as  the  heroine,  drove 
every  other  version  of  "  Antoin-  and  Cleopatra,"  in- 
cluding Shakespeare's,  from  the  theatre.  It  was  the 
author's  favorite  work,  the  only  one  which,  as  he 
declares,  he  wrote  for  himself,  the  others  being  given 
to  please  the  people  ;  and  it  was  a  work  of  which 
I)]'.  Johnson  could  say:  "It  is  bv  universal  consent 
accounted  the  work  in  which  he  [Dryden]  lias  ad- 
mitted the  fewest  improprieties  of  style  or  charac- 
ter." "But,"  continues  the  same  critic,  "it  has 
one  fault  equal  to  many,  though  rather  moral  than 
critical,  that  by  admitting  the  romantic  omnipotence 
of  love,  he  has  recommended  as  laudable  and  worthy 
of  imitation  that  conduct  which,  through  all  ages, 
the  good  have  censured  as  vicious  and  the  bad  de- 
spised as  foolish." 

The  lady  who  created  Dryden's  heroine  was  a 
favorite  of  the  town,  and  was  of  reputation  less  fair 


CLEOPATRA.  177 

than  her  model  complexion.  Little  Mrs.  Boutell, 
with  her  childish  look  and  weak  voice,  would  hardly 
be  considered  fitting  for  the  Queen  of  Csesar  and 
of  Antony:  hut  as  she  "  generally  acted  the  young, 
innocent  lady  whom  all  the  heroes  are  mad  in 
love  with,"  she  apparently  possessed  a  considerable 
decree  of  allurement  in  her  action. 

Elizabeth  Barry,  whom  Dryden  pronounced  the 
best  actress  he  had  ever  seen,  and  who.  although  dis- 
figured by  a  crooked  mouth  and  plain  features,  could 
captivate  my  Lord  Rochester,  and  could  secure  from 
.lames  II.  s  Queen,  as  a  present,  her  majesty's  wed- 
ding1 and  coronation  robes,  was  Mrs.  Boutell's  suc- 
cessor;  and  she,  in  turn,  was  followed  by  the  tall. 
handsome  Mrs.  Ohllield,  with  the  benevolent  heart 
and  the  "'speaking  eyes,"  the  lady  who  enjoyed  the 
protection  of  the  brother  of  the  Duke  of  Marlborough, 
and  who  would  play  Cleopatra  when  she  was  thirty- 
five. 

The  jovial  though  demure-faced  Peg  Woffington, 
who  excelled  in  Cleopatra,  first  tried  the  character 
when  she  was  twenty-nine.  The  delicate  and  lovely 
Mrs.  Hartley,  whose  features  served  as  the  model 
for  many  of  Sir  Joshua  Reynold's  pictures,  was  but 
twenty-two  when  she  took  up  the  part.  Miss 
Younge,  the   lifelike  copy  of  George   III.'s  idol,  the 


l"'s  shakespeake's  heroines. 

beautiful  Lady  Sarah  Lennox,  was  older  by  a  decade, 
while  Mrs.  Siddons,  who  appears  to  have  played  the 
role  but  once,  was  one  year  older  still. 

A  curious  adventure  befell  the  lovely  and  wicked 
George  Anne  Bellamy  in  the  play,  an  adventure  in 
which  a  rival  actress,  with  truly  womanly  revenue, 
drove  the  "Soul's  Idol"  of  Garrick  nearly  frantic. 
Sheridan,  the  manager  in  Dublin,  in  order  to  dress 
our  Queen  in  genuine  royal  garments  —  a  bit  of 
realism  that  might  be  the  better  appreciated  if  the 
strange  disregard  of  archeology  could  be  forgotten 
—  bought  for  the  young  Cleopatra  an  elegant  dress 
that  had  been  worn  by  the  Princess  of  Wales  upon 
her  birthday.  The  Octavia  of  that  evening  was  Mrs. 
Furnival,  the  player  who  had  incurred  Bellamy's 
jealousy  by  securing  the  professional  favoritism  of 
Garrick,  and  had  subsequently,  by  the  influence  of  a 
prominent  society  lady  of  the  Irish  capital,  been  un- 
ceremoniously deposed  from  that  position.  Revenge 
was  sweet;  and  the  older  actress,  seeing  through 
the  open  door  of  her  enemy's  dressino--room  the 
unguarded  gown,  seized  not  only  that,  but  also 
the  superb  diamonds  loaned  to  pretty  Cleopatra  by 
her  social  patron  saint.  Mrs.  Bellamy's  maid  dis- 
covered the  loss,  and  immediately  fell,  tooth  and 
nail,   upon   the   despoiler,  until   the  much   scratched 


MRS.    HARTLEY    AS    CLEOPATRA. 
From   an   Old    Print. 


CLEOPATRA.  17(.» 

lady,  with  her  terrified  and  angry  screams,  brought 
assistance.  Through  it  all,  however,  she  retained 
her  hold  on  the  spoils  of  war,  and  when  the  curtain 
rose,  marched  on  in  all  the  glory  of  silk  and  jewels, 
to  the  great  mortification  of  the  handsome  Cleopatra, 
who  could  wear,  perforce,  only  the  dingy,  discarded 
dress  of  Antony's  wife. 

Mrs.  Bellamy's  costume  illustrates  well  one  fea- 
ture of  theatrical  preparation  in  the  days  when 
Cibber  was  a  leader  of  the  stage.  Every  actress 
then,  who  played  any  heroine  in  any  play,  supposed 
it  necessary  to  have  a  long,  sweeping  train  carried 
by  a  page.  As  Addison  in  the  Spectator  said,  it  must 
have  made  "a  very  odd  spectacle  to  see  a  Queen 
venting  her  passion  in  a  disordered  motion,  and  a 
little  boy  taking  care  all  the  while  that  they  do  not 
ruffle  the  trail  of  her  ffowii."  Miss  Youno'e,  for  ex- 
ample,  did  not  for  one  moment  imagine  that  any 
one  would  find  fault  (and,  in  fact,  no  one  did  com- 
plain) when,  as  Cleopatra,  she  wore  a  tremendous 
big  hoop  covered  by  a  heavily-embroidered  petticoat, 
and  swept  the  stage  with  a  long  court  train,  while 
over  her  head  she  flounced  a  mass  of  lace  and 
feathers.  Nor  was  Mrs.  Hartley's  costume  much 
different. 

Haughty  and   majestic   by  nature  was   that   Cleo- 


180  shakespeake"s  heroines. 

patra  whose  name  was  to  be  Landed  down  to  future 
generations  as  the  first  impersonator  of  Shake- 
speare's own  heroine  since  the  time  when  the  mas- 
ter's work  was  originally  exhibited.  "  To  Mrs.  Yates 
I  leave  all  my  humility,"  wrote  the  impudent  Wes- 
ton in  his  will  ;  not,  however,  falsely  slandering 
the  lady,  if  we  may  believe  the  descriptions  of  her 
proud  bearing.  She  had  a  good  person,  but  haughty 
features,  writes  a  chronicler  of  her  day ;  and  he 
marks  the  fact  that  these,  combined  with  a  powerful 
voice,  carried  her  well  through  rage  and  disdain. 
Her  lack  of  tender  feeling  and  of  pathos  may  have 
made  the  amorous  hours  of  Cleopatra  and  the  dying 
moments  less  effectual  than  her  regal  scenes,  espe- 
cially as  at  this  time,  when  she  first  essayed  the 
character  —  it  was  Jan.  3,  1759 --"Mrs.  Yates  had 
not  displayed  abilities  equal  to  the  representation  of 
Shakespeare's  best  female  characters,  Lady  Macbeth 
excepted." 

This  lady's  development  on  the  stage  was  odd. 
Starting  in  Dublin,  when  she  was  Mrs.  Graham, 
young,  fat,  and  weak-voiced,  as  one  ungallant  pen- 
painter  pictures  her,  she  failed  completely.  Subse- 
quent trials  proved  but  little  better  until  Richard 
Yates,  the  best  of  Shakespeare's  clowns,  married  and 
instructed  her,  and  so  brought  her  to  the  point  that 


MRS.    YATES. 


CLEOPATRA.  181 

a  Siddons  was  necessary  to  displace  her  fame.  Even 
then,  however,  spiteful  Kitty  Clive  must  declare,  in 
language  more  forcible  than  elegant,  that  there  was 
"  too  much  stumping-  about  and  too  much  flumping 
about"  in  this  sister  actress's  playing. 

She  made  her  appearance  in  David  Garrick's  am- 
bitious attempt  to  oust  Dryden's  play  with  Shake- 
speare's own.  Garrick  provided  the  fine  new  scenery, 
the  brave  new  costumes,  and  the  elaborate  new  deco- 
rations, while  Edward  Capell,  by  abridging-  the  origi- 
nal tragedy  and  transposing  the  text,  provided  the 
new  version.  One  may  imagine  that  the  play-goers 
of  the  day  were  on  the  tiptoe  of  excitement  at  all 
these  preparations  ;  but  they  descended  from  their 
elevation  in  just  six  days,  compelling  poor  Davy 
to  withdraw  the  work  from  which  he  had  expected 
so  much.  To  add  to  his  mortification  the  critics  — 
and  the  whole  town  was  free  to  criticise  then  —  de- 
clared that  he  himself  was  too  little  in  figure  to 
portray  the  robust  Antony. " 

Nor  was  the  attempt  to  revive  "  Antony  and  Cleo- 
patra "  five  and  fifty  years  later  to  gain  more  success 
than  its  predecessor.  John  Philip  Kemble's  version 
of  1813  was  a  curiously  jumbled  mixture  of  selected 
scenes  from  both  Shakespeare  and  Dryden,  thrown 
promiscuously  together  after  being  cut  and  slashed 


182  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

in  a  fashion  worthy  of  the  most  pugnacious  Roman 
or  barbarous  Egyptian.  The  public  eye  was  sought 
with  an  actual  representation  of  the  battle  of  Actium 
and  a  grand  funeral  pageant  as  the  last  curtain  fell. 
The  Cleopatra  was  Mrs.  Faucit.  In  vain  had  Kem- 
ble,  time  and  again,  besought  his  sister  to  take  the 
part. 

"  No,"  replied  Mrs.  Siddons  to  every  entreaty ; 
"if  I  should  play  the  part  as  it  should  be  played, 
I  should  ever  after  hate  myself." 

And  yet  she  had  not  scrupled  to  play  the  Cleo- 
patra whom  Dryden  drew,  though  that  was  years 
before,  when  she  was  but  thirty-three. 

The  fascinating,  though  not  actually  handsome, 
Mrs.  Faucit,  with  grandly  voluptuous  figure,  above 
the  ordinary  height  of  woman,  might  well  show  the 
royal  bearing  of  the  Empress  of  the  Nile  ;  while,  if 
we  are  to  credit  the  alluring  power  with  which  she 
was  said  to  be  possessed  as  equal  to  her  grandeur, 
she  might  well  look  the  seductive  Queen.  "  What 
a  magnificent  creature  she  appeared ! "  cried  an  audi- 
tor who  saw  her  as  Cleopatra,  and  put  his  impression 
down  on  paper.  Yet  she  was  then  but  four  years  be- 
yond her  second  decade,  a  woman  born  a  year  after 
the  great  Mrs.  Siddons  had  played  the  Dryden  Cleo- 
patra.    When,  however,  a  maiden  apjDears  upon  the 


..    ,tta','»i     b    frit    -ij^-j 


i,'te^**MJ 


MRS.    FAUCIT. 
Painted   by   Partridge      Engraved   by  J.   Thomson. 


CLEOPATRA.  1 83 

stage  at  the  age  of  fifteen,  and  marries  before  she  has 
escaped  her  teens,  she  may  be  supposed  to  be  matured 
beyond  her  years. 

Macready,  our  next  Antony  of  the  stage,  although 
a  careful,  conscientious  student,  was  once,  at  least, 
compelled  to  forego  any  deep  consideration  of  his 
very  important  character  until  five  days  before  the 
performance. 

Returning  from  Drury  Lane  on  the  16th  of  No- 
vember, 1833,  he  jotted  down  in  his  diary:  "Went 
to  the  theatre  about  my  dress  for  Antony,  which  I 
persisted,  after  evasion  and  delay,  in  seeing.  Was 
disgusted  with  the  impertinence  of  Mr.  inform- 
ing me  that  '  because  he  studied  his  parts  at  so 
short  a  notice,  I  might  also  do  the  same.'  Read 
Plutarch's  w  Life  of  Antony,'  and  then  gave  a  care- 
ful reading  to  the  part  itself,  which  is  long  and,  I 
fear,  not  effective." 

This  costume,  about  which  the  actor  grumbled, 
should  have  been  new,  according  to  his  ideas ;  but 
instead  the  management  provided  only  a  new  cloak. 
Manager  Bunn  and  actor  Macready  never  could  seem 
to  get  along  together;  and  it  was  only  a  year  or  two 
after  this  "Cleopatra  "  production  that  the  tragedian, 
angry  at  being  obliged  to  play  as  an  afterpiece  the 
first   three  acts  of  "  Richard   III.'"  (wherein  he  was 


184  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

not  seen  at  his  best),  and  doubly  incensed  at  the 
irritating  laughter  coming  from  the  manager's  room, 
punched  that  manager's  head  so  vigorously  as  to  lead 
to  a  heavy  suit  for  damages  later  on.  In  this  "  An- 
tony and  Cleopatra  "  of  Nov.  21,  1833,  Miss  Somer- 
ville  (Mrs.  Buim)  was  Iras,  and  Miss  Phillips,  whom 
Macready  thought  the  possessor  of  great  beauty  and 
modesty,  was  Cleopatra.  Miss  Somerville  had  been 
a  Drvden  Cleopatra  at  Bath  fifteen  years  before,  but 
her  commanding  fiomre  was  never  destined  to  become 
the  form  of  a  Shakespeare  Cleopatra. 

Macready  was  indignant  at  the  niggardliness  of 
the  management,  dissatisfied  with  his  part,  and  sick 
as  well,  thouo-h  Mr.  Bunn  refused  to  think  the  actor 
either  ill  or  hoarse.  On  the  night  before  the  per- 
formance, Antony  rehearsed  his  lines  at  home  the 
entire  evening,  and  found,  at  that  late  moment, 
that  he  had  "just  got  an  insight  into  the  general 
effect,  but  had  no  power  of  furnishing  a  correct  pic- 
ture or  of  making  any  strong  hits."  The  next  even- 
ing, "still  rather  hoarse,"  as  he  says,  "not  quite  free 
from  pain  at  the  heart,  and  generally  depressed  and 
weak,"  he  acted  his  part  as  best  he  could,  and  woke 
up  the  next  morning  to  find,  to  his  gratification,  that 
the  newspapers  were  "  very  liberal  in  their  strictures 
on  Antony."     Two   days  later,  Macready,  in   utter 


CLEOPATRA.  185 

disgust  at  the  management's  treatment  of  himself, 
tendered  his  resignation,  even  offering  a  premium  to 
secure  its  being  accepted ;  but  shrewd  Mr.  Bunn  took 
up  a  most  friendly  tone,  — 'for  the  time  being,  —  and 
passed  the  matter  over.  "  Antony  and  Cleopatra," 
however,  was  at  once  removed  from  the  stage. 

This  was  not  the  first  difficult  situation  that  had 
faced  Macready  while  playing  the  Roman  general. 
In  his  novitiate,  when  a  lad  of  only  nineteen,  making 
his  first  appearance  in  the  character  at  Newcastle,  on 
the  9th  of  April,  1813,  he  found  an  audience  likely 
to  be  prejudiced  strongly  against  him.  On  the  very 
morning  of  the  performance  some  anonymous  slan- 
derer had  stuck  upon  the  box-office  door  a  placard 
accusing  "  Mr.  William,"  as  they  called  him  there,  of 
having  "  shamefully  misused  "  and  even  kicked  Miss 
Sullivan,  the  pretty  little  actress  who  was  cast  for 
Cleopatra.  Macready,  cool  and  diplomatic,  said  not 
a  word  to  his  fair  companion  until  the  curtain  was 
rung  up.  Then,  bringing  her  down  to  the  footlights, 
he  put  to  her  the  direct  question :  — 

"  Have  I  been  guilty  of  any  injustice  of  any  kind 
to  you  since  you  have  been  in  the  theatre  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,"  she  replied  at  once. 

"  Have  I  ever  behaved  to  you  in  an  ungentleman- 
like  manner?"  he  persisted. 


180  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

"No,  sir." 

'•  Have  I  ever  kicked  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  sir ! "  was  her  cry ;  and  the  hearty 
laughter  and  long-continued  applause  that  met  this 
final  answer  showed  how  thoroughly  the  youth  had 
won  over  his  audience. 

After  Macready  came  Phelps,  the  painstaking 
actor-manager,  wdiose  devotion  to  the  hard  led  to 
those  remarkably  brilliant  revivals,  at  the  Sadler's 
Wells  Theatre,  of  all  but  six  of  Shakespeare's  plays. 
"  Antony  and  Cleopatra,"  for  the  first  time  in  en- 
tirety since  Shakespeare's  day,  was  set  down  for  the 
night  of  Oct.  22,  1849,  and  the  Egyptian  siren  of 
that  evening  was  Miss  Isabel  Glyn,  then  just  twenty- 
six  years  of  age.  Again,  at  the  age  of  thirty-two, 
she  was  to  play  the  same  character,  and  then  again 
at  the  age  of  forty-four.  Years  could  not  alter  her 
power  to  look  the  Queen  of  Egypt,  and  they  im- 
proved her  power  of  acting.  When  the  young 
Scotch  leading  lady,  who  had  been  on  the  stage  but 
two  years,  first  essayed  the  role,  little  wonder  it  was 
regarded  as  the  most  arduous  of  her  attempts.  But 
with  her  grand,  finely  proportioned  figure,  her  ex- 
pressive, noble  face,  crowned  with  an  intellectual 
forehead,  she  possessed  rare  advantages  of  person 
for  the   assumption   of  majesty,  while   her  brunette 


cleopati;a.  187 

complexion  and  large  dark  eves  admirably  fitted  the 
character  of  the  Egyptian  queen. 

"With  a  daring  which  does  the  management  infi- 
nite credit,"  writes  a  contemporary  recorder  of  the 
production,  "  Shakespeare's  marvellous  tragedy  of 
'Antony  and  Cleopatra'  was  produced  with  costly 
decorations  and  careful  rehearsal.  The  representa- 
tion of  Cleopatra  herself  has  been  reckoned  one  of 
the  impossibilities  of  the  histrionic  art.  Miss  Glyn, 
however,  with  her  characteristic  energy,  grappled 
with  its  difficulties  and  succeeded  to  admiration. 
She  aimed  at  the  infinite  variety  of  the  heroine's 
character,  and  impersonated  it  in  some  respects  to  a 
marvel.  Her  death-scene  with  the  asp  at  her  bosom 
was  quoted  as  being  equal  to  Pasta  :  the  glory  that 
irradiated  her  countenance  at  the  glad  thought  that 
she  should  meet  her  '  curled  Antony  '  in  the  shades 
was  strikingly  sublime."  Miss  Glyn,  or,  as  she  was 
afterward  known,  Mrs.  Glyn-Dallas,  was  of  the  clas- 
sical, dignified  school ;  and  her  readings  in  her  later 
days  never  departed  from  the  majestic  method. 
With  her  Mrs.  James  Brown  Potter  (nee  Cora 
Urquhart)  studied  the  character  of  Cleopatra  before 
attempting  it  in  America. 

The    last    Cleopatra  on   the    English   stage,  prior 
to  Mrs.   Langtry's   recent  revival,   was    Miss    Ellen 


188  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

Wallis,  or,  as  she  is  better  known  now,  Mrs.  Lan- 
caster- Wallis.  When  she  ventured  Cleopatra  she 
had  been  upon  the  stage  but  a  twelve  month,  and 
was  only  seventeen  years  of  age.  To  this  girlish 
Cleopatra  of  Drury  Lane,  in  1873,  played  an  An- 
tony of  fifty-four  years,  James  R.  Anderson,  who  a 
third  of  a  century  before  had  acted  with  Macready, 
and  who  enjoyed  the  histrionic  distinction  of  having 
created  the  characters  of  De  Mauprat  in  " Rich- 
elieu," and  Claude  Melnotte  in  the  "  Lady  of 
L}rons." 

It  was  seventeen  years,  Nov.  18,  1890,  before  Mrs. 
Langtry,  the  latest  Cleopatra  on  the  English  stage, 
placed  the  tragedy  again  before  the  London  public ; 
though  in  the  provinces  Miss  Reinhardt  appeared  in 
Charles  Calvert's  revival,  with  Walter  Montgomery, 
an  Antony  of  the  American  stage,  in  the  role  of  the 
Roman  general. 

Before  Shakespeare's  pla}r  was  entered  on  the 
register,  there  had  been  seen  Daniel's  "  Cleopatra " 
and  Garnier's  "Antony."  Immediately  after  Shake- 
speare's play  was  printed,  Thomas  May's  "  Cleopatra, 
Queen  of  Egypt,"  was  brought  out:  and  in  1778 
I  [enry  Brooke's  "  Antony  and  Cleopatra  "  was  pub- 
lished. 

But  none  of  these  works  of  olden  day  has  won  a 


ISABEL    GLYN    DALLAS    AS    CLEOPATRA 
Tallis    Print.      Engraved   by    Hollis   from   a  Daguerrotype   by   Paine  of  Islington. 


CLEOPATT!  A.  189 

place  similar  to  that  of  the  original  play  of  Shake- 
speare, the  Dryden  tragedy,  or  the  latest  dramatiza- 
tion of  the  lives  of  the  two  famous  lovers,  Sardou's 
"  Cleopatra."  This  latter  work  has  thus  far  seen 
but  two  representatives  of  the  titular  role,  Madame 
Bernhardt,  who  appeared  in  the  original  production 
at  the  Porte  Saint  Martin  in  Paris,  the  23d  of  Octo- 
ber 1890,  with  Gamier  as  Antony,  and  in  New  York 
in  February,  1891:  and  Miss  Fanny  Davenport,  who 
gave  the  tragedy  its  first  American  production  in 
New  York.  Dec.  23,  1890,  with  her  husband,  Mel- 
bourne McDowell,  acting  the  Roman  lover. 


LADY    MACBETH. 
(Macbeth.) 


"  What,"  cried  old  Quin,  astonishment  and  anger 
flashing  in  his  eye ;  "  pray,  sir,  haven't  I  been  play- 
ing Macbeth  as  Shakespeare  wrote  it?" 

And  Garrick,  better  versed  in  the  history  of  the 
theatre  than  the  hot-tempered  but  honest  hero  of  a 
hundred  stage  fights,  replied  that  Mr.  Quin  all 
these  years  had  been  playing  Davenant's  mongrel 
mutilation  of  the  original. 

"  Well,"  declared  the  unyielding  old  fellow  to  a 
friend,  attempting  to  place  Garrick  in  the  minority 
as  regards  method  of  acting  as  well  as  arrangement 
of  play,  -  -  but  really  emphasizing  the  originality  of 
the  new  star,  —  "if  that  young  fellow  is  right,  I 
and  the  rest  of  the  players  have  all  been  wrong." 

James  Quin  and  the  other  players  of  the  earlier 
generation  had  acted  in  the  formal,  declamatory 
style;  Garrick,  the  "  Whitefield  of  the  stage,"  founded 
a  new  school   of  activity   and   naturalness.     At  the 

191 


192  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

same  time  Garrick  restored  much  of  Shakespeare 
to  the  theatre. 

Can  we  wonder,  though,  that  Qnin  knew  so  little 
of  his  character's  author  when  Mrs.  Pritchard,  one 
of  the  greatest  of  Lady  Macbeths.  is  found  to  have 
been  totally  ignorant  of  the  play  except  as  she  had 
heard  it  acted  under  the  glare  of  the  footlights,  never 
having  read  a  line  beyond  the  text  of  her  own  part 
on  the  leaves  given  her  by  the  prompter? 

Mrs.  Siddons  could  not  believe  this  of  her  famous 
predecessor  until  it  was  affirmed  by  Dr.  Johnson  in 
his  own  ponderous  way.  "  Madam."  said  he  to 
the  Siddons,  "Mrs.  Pritchard  was  a  vulgar  idiot; 
she  nsed  to  speak  of  her  gownd,  and  she  never 
read  any  part  except  her  own  in  any  play  in  which 
she  acted." 

Yet  Mrs.  Pritchard  was  upright  and  pure  in  char- 
acter (a  rare  quality  in  those  days),  even  if  she  was 
coarse  and  illiterate  :  and  she  possessed  sonl-stirring 
power  as  Lady  Macbeth,  even  if  she  did  not  under- 
stand the  full  significance  of  the  play.  She  was 
good  in  comedy  too,  —  at  least  until  she  grew  too 
portly,  —  and  could  share  with  Mrs.  Abington  the 
honor  of  being  chosen  to  represent  the  Comic  Muse. 

When  Pritchard  played  Lady  Macbeth,  the  utter- 
ance of  the  words,  "Give  i/ir  the  daggers!  "  is  said 


DAVID    GARRICK. 


LADY    MACBETH.  193 

to  have  sent  such  a  thrill  through  the  audience  as 
no  one  else  could  produce,  while  in  the  sleep-walk- 
ing scene  the  horror  of  her  sigh  was  such  as  to 
make  the  young  remember  it  with  trembling.  In 
this  character  she  played  her  farewell  the  24th  of 
April,  1768,  to  Garrick's  last  Macbeth. 

Little  Davy's  Macbeth  must  have  been  wonderful 
when,  as  Grimm  tells  us,  in  a  drawing-room  without 
any  stage  illusion,  the  actor,  in  his  ordinary  dress, 
could  recite  the  dagger  scene  so  grandly,  following 
with  his  eyes  in  such  intense  earnestness  the  air- 
drawn  weapon,  that  the  whole  gathering  broke  forth 
into  a  general  cry  of  admiration. 

For  the  matter  of  costume,  however,  it  does  not 
seem  as  if  the  presence  of  it  could  have  heightened 
the  illusion,  when  we  recall  that  Garrick,  with  all 
his  enthusiasm  for  the  great  bard,  dressed  his  Mac- 
beth in  the  scarlet  coat,  gold-laced  waistcoat,  and 
powdered  wig  of  an  officer  of  the  actor's  own  day, 
and,  moreover,  gave  the  Thane,  after  he  became 
King,  an  immense  flowing-  wig  as  large  as  that  worn 
by  the  Barons  of  Exchequer. 

Mrs.  Pritchard,  in  her  character,  wore  long  stays 
and  hooped  petticoats,  and  dressed  her  powdered 
hair  high  upon  her  head,  costuming  Lady  Macbeth 
in  the  same  way  that  Cleopatra  and  other  heroines 


194  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

were  clothed.  It  was  Mrs.  Siddons  who  first  of  all 
had  the  sense  and  courage  to  wear  flowing  draperies 
with  a  very  short  waist,  and  to  braid  her  hair  close 
to  her  head. 

There  were  several  actresses  of  note  in  the  part 
before  Mrs.  Siddons  came  forward.  There  were 
Mrs.  Betterton  and  Mrs.  Barry,  both  pronounced 
great  Lady  Macbeths ;  there  were  Mrs.  Porter  and 
Mrs.  Yates  ;  and  there  was  Peg  Woffington.  But 
all  these  players  yielded,  at  last,  to  the  glory  of 
Mrs.  Pritchard  and  of  Mrs.  Siddons.  Lord  Har- 
court  maintained  that  Siddons  lacked  the  dignity, 
compass,  and  melody  of  Pritchard.  Then,  again, 
they  made  their  points  differently.  When  Macbeth, 
urged  by  his  wife  to  the  murder,  queried,  "  If  we 
should  fail  ?  "  Mrs.  Pritchard's  reply  came  in  daring, 
scornful  accents,  "We  fail  !  But  screw  your  courage 
to  the  sticking  place  and  we'll  not  fall.''''  Mrs.  Sid- 
dons, in  a  subdued  voice,  read  the  lines,  "  We  fail ! 
But  screw  your  courage  to  the  sticking  place,  and 
we'll  not  fail." 

The  skill  of  the  earlier  actress  in  the  banquet 
scene  is  described  by  Davies.  Mrs.  Pritchard,  he 
declares,  showed  admirable  art  in  endeavoring  to 
hide  Macbeth'*  frenzy  from  the  observation  of  the 
guests,   by   drawing  their  attention   to   conviviality. 


LADY    MACBETH.  195 

She  smiled  on  one,  whispered  to  another,  and  dis- 
tantly sainted  a  third.  Her  reproving  and  angry 
looks,  which  glanced  towards  Macbeth  at  the  same 
time, — as  we  are  told  by  the  old  chronicler, —  were 
mixed  with  marks  of  inward  vexation  and  uneasi- 
ness. At  last,  with  a  look  of  anger  and  indignation 
that  could  not  be  surpassed,  she  rose  from  her  seat, 
as  if  unable  to  restrain  her  feelings  longer,  and  seiz- 
ing her  trembling  husband  by  the  arm,  half  whis- 
pered in  terror  and  contempt,  u  Are  you  a  man?" 
That  action  carried  the  house  to  a  whirlwind  of 
applause. 

But  Siddons  had  magnificent  physical  advantages, 
a  majestic  form,  a  powerful  voice,  and  a  grand  man- 
ner—  so  grand,  indeed,  that  Sheridan,  when  joked 
about  the  report  of  his  making  love  to  the  actress, 
cried  out,  "  Make  love  to  the  Siddons  !  I  should  as 
soon  think  of  making  love  to  the  Archbishop  of  Can- 
terbury ! "  And  Siddons,  with  these  exterior  gifts 
combined  a  genius  that  could  make  her  seem  actually 
possessed  of  the  character.  Even  according  to  the 
taste  of  the  supercritical  Horace  Walpole,  "  she  was 
handsome  enough,  though  neither  nose  nor  chin  is 
according  to  the  Greek  standard,  beyond  which  both 
advance  a  good  deal."  "  Her  hair  is  either  red,  or 
she  has  no  objection  to  its  being  thought  so,  and  has 


196  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

used  red  powder."  was  Walpole's  further  comment, 
in  1782,  when  he  saw  her  for  the  first  time. 

How  rapt  she  could  become  in  Lady  Macbeth  is 
illustrated  by  a  story  she  herself  once  told,  when 
describing  her  first  study  of  the  part.  After  every 
one  in  the  house  except  herself  had  gone  to  sleep  the 
young  actress  —  she  had  not  then  made  her  London 
debut  —  locked  herself  in  her  room,  took  out  her  lit- 
tle copy  of  Shakespeare,  and  began  to  commit  the 
words  to  memory.  With  tolerable  composure  she 
went  on  into  the  silence  of  the  night  until  she 
reached  the  assassination  scene.  Then  the  terrors 
of  that  fearful  picture  rose  before  her  in  all  their 
gloom  and  supernatural  horror;  and  before  she  could 
collect  her  senses  she  had  snatched  up  the  candle  in 
a  paroxysm  of  fear,  and  had  rushed  from  the  room. 
The  rustling  of  her  silk  dress  as  she  fled  up  the 
stairs  in  the  darkness,  heightened  by  the  faint,  shak- 
ing glimmer  of  the  nickering  candle,  made  it  seem  to 
her  disturbed  imagination  as  if  a  spectre  was  pursu- 
ing her ;  with  courage  utterly  gone  she  dashed  open 
the  door  of  the  room  where  her  husband  lay  peace- 
fully sleeping,  threw  the  candlestick  upon  the  table, 
and  plunged  into  bed  without  even  removing  her 
clothes. 

At  that  time  she  was  twenty  years  of  age.     Six 


MRS.    SIDDONS. 
From  an   Old    Painting. 


LADY    MACBETH.  197 

years  later,  on  the  2d  of  February,  1785,  Mrs.  Sid- 
dons,  then  a  metropolitan  aetress,  chose  Lady  Mac- 
beth as  the  part  to  act  for  her  second  benefit  of  the 
season. 

She  dreaded  her  first  night  in  the  character,  with 
its  necessary  comparisons  with  Mrs.  Pritchard,  but 
yet  did  not  hesitate  to  change  the  routine  conception 
where  her  judgment  led  her  to  change.  In  spite  of 
the  protests  of  Manager  Sheridan,  who  insisted  that 
Pritchard  had  never  let  the  candle  leave  her  hands 
in  the  sleep-walking  scene,  the  determined  Siddons 
declared  that  it  was  utterly  impracticable  to  think  of 
a  woman  washing  out  that  "  damned  spot "  without 
laying  down  the  lighted  taper.  After  the  play,  when 
the  audience  had  signified  their  approbation  of  the 
novelty,  Mr.  Sheridan  congratulated  the  actress  on 
her  obstinacy ! 

The  fright  that  the  player  gave  the  innocent 
shopman  when,  unconsciously  using  her  most  tragic 
tones,  she  asked,  regarding  the  cloth  she  was  buying, 
••Will  it  wash?"  —  the  sudden  fierceness  of  her  ut- 
terance surprising  him  off  his  feet — -was  equalled 
by  the  astonishment  she  created  in  the  mind  of  her 
dresser  when  preparing  for  Lady  Macbeth.  Without 
thinking  of  her  assistant,  Mrs.  Siddons,  running  over 
her  part  in  her  mind,  suddenly  uttered  aloud,  with 


198  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

full  force  of  intonation  and  with  appropriate  gesture, 
the  words,  "  Here's  the  smell  of  blood  still !  "  whereat 
the  startled  dresser  cried,  "  I  protest  and  vow,  ma'am, 
you're  hysterical.  It's  not  blood,  but  rose-pink  and 
water.  I  saw  the  property  man  mix  it  up  with  my 
own  eyes." 

One  of  the  most  exciting  episodes  in  Mrs.  Siddons's 
life  was  her  experience  with  the  mob  attacking  Co- 
vent  Garden  Theatre  while  she  was  acting  Lady 
Macbeth  on  the  stage.  The  new  playhouse,  opened 
Sept.  18,  1809,  saw  the  O.  P.  riots,  caused  by  play- 
goers demanding  the  "old  prices"  again. 

It  was  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  when  the 
crowd  began  to  collect,  and  at  six  the  auditorium 
was  completely  tilled ;  while  outside  the  doors  three 
times  as  many  people  were  clamoring  for  admittance. 
On  came  Mr.  Kemble,  only  to  be  greeted  by  cat- 
calls  and  hissing.  In  vain  he  implored  permission 
to  speak  ;  the  mob  drowned  every  word.  As  Mrs. 
Siddons  advanced,  in  her  costume  of  Lady  Macbeth, 
she  seemed  disturbed  by  the  clamor,  but  yet  with 
wonderful  composure  proceeded  to  act  out  her  part 
in  pantomime.  Kemble,  too,  kept  valiantly  on,  so 
that,  —  as  one  spectator  said, —  "a  finer  dumb  show 
was  never  witnessed." 

"Surely,"'  cried  Mrs.  Siddons  to  her  friend,  Mrs. 


LADY    MACBETH.  199 

Fitzhuffh,  after  the  riot  had  thus  continued  for 
weeks,  "  nothing  ever  equalled  the  domineering  of 
the  mob  in  these  days.  It  is  to  me  inconceivable 
how  the  public  at  large  submits  to  be  thus  dictated 
to,  against  their  better  judgment,  by  a  handful  of 
imperious  and  intoxicated  men."  Even  Kemble's 
nerves  were  shaken  by  this  trial;  while  his  wife,  poor 
thing,  lived  with  ladders  at  her  windows,  prepared 
to  escape  through  the  garden  in  case  of  an  attack 
upon  her  house. 

Lady  Macbeth  was  Mrs.  Siddons's  farewell  role 
upon  the  stage.  On  the  29th  of  June,  1812,  the 
mighty  audience,  rising  on  the  benches  immediately 
after  the  sleep-walking  scene,  in  this  farewell  per- 
formance, demanded  that  there  the  play  of  the  even- 
ing should  end.  And  end  it  did.  A  few  minutes 
later,  however,  the  curtain  rose  to  show,  not  the 
player,  but  the  woman.  Clad  in  simple  white,  Mrs. 
Siddons  was  discovered  sitting  by  a  table.  In  re- 
sponse to  the  renewed  cheers  she  rose,  and,  with 
modest  dignity,  delivered  an  address  written  for 
the  occasion  by  her  nephew,  Horace  Twiss.  Later 
on,  for  a  few  benefit  performances,  Mrs.  Siddons 
returned  to  the  stage ;  but  this  was  her  formal  fare- 
well. She  was  fifty-six  years  of  age  when  her  pro- 
fessional career  ended,  but  her  life  continued  in 
happy  lines  nineteen  years  more. 


200  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

When  at  her  best,  strong  men  wept  at  the  Bid- 
don^' s  tragic  action,  and  women  were  carried  fainting 
from  the  house.  The  King  himself  had  yielded  to 
his  emotion  at  her  betrayal  of  sorrow ;  though  the 
Queen,  with  her  back  sullenly  turned  towards  the 
stage,  declared  the  acting  "  too  disagreeable." 

There  could  happen,  however,  laughable  incidents 
to  relieve  this  terrible  solemnity.  On  one  night,  for 
instance,  when  the  weather  was  extremely  hot,  our 
goddess  of  tragedy  (mortal  then,  as  the  rest  of  the 
world)  despatched  a  boy  to  bring  to  her  at  once  a 
glass  of  beer.  The  lad  did  exactly  as  he  was  bid; 
for,  returning  from  the  inn  with  the  foaming  pitcher, 
he  calmly  and  innocently  walked  directly  out  upon 
the  stage  while  Lady  Macbeth  was  performing  the 
most  absorbing  part  of  the  sleep-walking  scene,  and, 
with  a  total  unconsciousness  of  impropriety,  ex- 
claimed, "  Here's  your  beer,  ma'am."  The  audience 
was  convulsed,  and  roared  the  louder  when  the  boy 
was  drasrsred  off  the  scene  ;  but  the  Siddons  never 
lost  her  composure  through  it  all. 

There  was  another  occasion,  of  a  different  charac- 
ter, when  the  lady's  self-command  was  equally  appar- 
ent. It  was  in  Brighthelmstone,  in  1809,  when  her 
brother  Charles  was  her  Macbeth.  In  the  banquet 
scene  he  threw  the  cup  from  him  so  violently  as  to 


LADY   MACBETH.  201 

shatter  the  glass  chandelier  standing  on  the  table, 
scattering  its  broken  pieces  dangerously  near  his 
sister's  face.     Yet  she  sat  as  if  made  of  marble. 

What  discussions  and  what  tumults  they  had  in 
those  days  over  the  tragedy !  Garrick,  as  we  have 
seen,  dressed  Macbeth  in  a  modern  garb ;  while  his 
Lady  wore  a  costume  that,  had  she  wished,  she  might 
with  equal  propriety  have  worn  the  next  day  to  a 
court  reception.  Macklin,  always  burning  to  revo- 
lutionize all  things,  when  essaying  the  character  of 
the  Thane,  at  the  age  of  seventy,  chose  for  his  garb 
the  Rob  Roy  tartan  of  a  Highland  chieftain.  Though 
the  gallery  laughed  at  his  appearance,  which  they 
declared  was  more  like  a  Scotch  piper  than  a  general 
and  a  prince  of  the  blood,  as  he  stumped  down  the 
stage  at  the  head  of  his  army,  yet  his  example  was 
so  powerful  that  tartan  was  thenceforth  adopted  as 
the  regular  dress  for  the  part,  —  until  some  learned 
antiquary  discovered,  some  forty  odd  years  ago,  that 
in  Macbeth*s  time  tartan  had  not  been  invented. 
Phelps,  in  1847,  showed  for  the  first  time  Macbeth 
clad  in  the  rude  armor,  conical  helmet,  and  tunic  of 
the  barbaric  warrior  of  the  days  of  the  Norsemen  and 
Anglo-Saxons.  Then,  six  years  later,  Charles  Kean 
put  on  the  red  and  blue  tunic  covered  by  the  hau- 
berk of  iron  rings  sewed  upon  leather. 


202  shakespeake*s  heroines. 

Mrs.  Siddons  and  her  brother  tried  to  banish 
Banquo's  ghost  from  the  stage,  but  the  public 
would  not  allow  the  change.  Back  the  spectre  had 
to  come.  In  the  same  imperious  manner  a  Bristol 
audience,  as  late  as  1803,  compelled  Kemble  to 
restore  the  absurd  scene  of  the  witches,  in  their 
conical  caps  and  high-heeled  shoes,  jumping  over 
broomsticks.  In  fact,  there  was  almost  a  riot  in 
the  theatre  until  the  demand  of  the  play-goers  was 
met. 

With  Macready's  entrance  we  have  reached  the 
"  delicate  and  refined  fiend  ' '  of  Helen  Faucit,  for 
so  it  was  once  characterized.  To  witness  her  sleep- 
walking scene,  they  said  fifty  years  ago,  was  worth 
a  thousand  homilies  against  murder.  "  It  made  me 
shudder  from  head  to  foot,  and  my  very  hair  stand 
up  on  my  head,"  cried  William  Carleton,  as  he 
described  the  fearful  expression  of  the  eyes,  the 
frightful  reality  of  horror,  the  terrible  revelation  of 
remorse,  and  the  ineffectual  struggles  to  wash  away, 
not  the  blood  from  the  corpse-like  hands,  but  the 
blood  from  the  tortured  soul. 

A  beautiful  woman  was  Miss  Faucit,  of  noble  yet 
graceful  figure,  possessed  of  a  wonderfully  expres- 
sive and  lovely  face,  and  gifted  with  a  fascinatingly 
silverv  voice.     A  combination  of  Mrs.  Siddons  and 


LADY    MACBETH.  203 

Miss  O'Neill,  cried  one  admirer  of  her  charms,  claim- 
ing that  she  had  the  majestic  air  and  lofty  thoughts 
of  the  former,  and  as  great  pathetic  power;  and  was 
gifted  with  no  less  winning  grace  and  far  greater 
variety  than  the  latter.  Her  Juliet,  Portia,  Imogen, 
Beatrice,  Rosalind,  and  Lady  Constance,  as  well  as 
her  Lady  Macbeth,  all  aroused  admiration. 

George  Fletcher,  moved  by  her  awful  despair  as 
Constance  of  Bretagne,  in  the  stately  historical  play, 
thought  it  wonderful  that  shortly  afterwards  she 
could  "  infuse  into  the  part  of  Rosalind  all  the 
tender  though  lively  grace  which  the  poet  has  made 
its  principal  attribute  and  most  exquisite  attraction 
—  breathing-  the  soul  of  elegance,  wit,  and  feeling 
through  that  noble  forest  pastoral."  She  was  only 
twenty-four  years  of  age  when  she  assumed  the  role 
of  Lady  Macbeth ;  seven  years  later  she  married 
the  author  whose  work  in  connection  with  "  The 
Life  of  the  Prince  Consort,"  and  Bon  Gaultier's 
"  Ballads,"  entitle  him  to  distinction.  In  October, 
1879,  she  made  her  last  appearance  on  the  stage, 
playing  Rosalind  at  Manchester  for  the  benefit  of 
the  widow  of  Charles  Calvert,  and  now  (1895)  at 
the  age  of  seventy-five,  she  lives  honored  and 
beloved  in  her  native  England. 

Fanny  Kemble  had  taken  Lady  Macbeth  into  her 


204  shakespeaee's  heroines. 

repertoire  at  an  earlier  age  even  than  Miss  Faucit, 
being  but  twenty-one  when  she  first  essayed  the 
part,  and  having  passed  through  but  one  season 
upon  the  stage.  Miss  Kemble's  lack  of  physical 
size  militated  against  her  thorough  success  in  the 
character.  Yet  one  able  critic,  noting1  her  skill  as 
well  as  her  comparatively  diminutive  features  and 
figure,  said  of  her  acting,  "it  was  like  looking  at 
Mrs.  Siddons  through  the  wrong  end  of  an  opera 
glass."  That  statement  recalls  what  Sir  Thomas 
Lawrence,  the  famous  artist,  said  to  Miss  Kemble 
when  he  was  painting  her  picture,  the  last  work  he 
ever  completed. 

"  These  are  the  eyes  of  Mrs.  Siddons,"  he  ex- 
claimed to  the  fair  niece  of  the  great  Tragedy 
Queen. 

"  You  mean  like  those  of  Mrs.  Siddons,"  she 
declared. 

"No,"  he  replied,  "they  are  the  same  eyes;  the 
construction  is  the  same,  and  to  draw  them  is  the 
same  thing;." 

Mrs.  Biuin  was  Macready's  first  Lady  Macbeth  at 
Drury  Lane,  in  1823;  Mrs.  Warner  was  his  last 
Lady  Macbeth  at  that  memorable  performance  of 
Feb.  20,  1851,  when  Old  Drury  was  filled  with  a 
stamping,    shouting,    hat-waving    throng    of    friends 


LADY   MACBETH.  205 

bidding  the  actor  farewell.  It  was  Mrs.  Warner, 
also.  who.  a  year  before,  had  acted  Portia  in  "Julius 
Csesar "  at  the  Windsor  Castle  theatricals,  when 
for  the  first  time  Macready,  playing  Brutus,  and 
Charles  Kean,  playing  Antony,  consented  to  appear 
together  on  the  same  stage.  Which  actor  loved  the 
other  least  is  hard  to  say,  but  certainly  after  this 
performance  before  royalty  Brutus  was  less  the  hon- 
orable man.  A  message  of  courtesy  from  Kean, 
brought  to  Macready's  dressing-room,  elicited  the 
curt  rejoinder.  "If  Mr.  Kean  has  anything  to  say 
to  me,  let  him  say  it  through  my  solicitor."  No 
wonder,  when  Kean  afterwards  lost  the  diamond 
ring  given  to  him  for  his  share  in  the  Windsor 
Castle  performance,  the  wags  asserted  that  it  had 
been  found  "sticking  in   Macready's  gizzard." 

Later,  in  the  person  of  Samuel  Phelps,  comes  "  a 
rude,  impulsive  soldier."  as  Macbeth,  to  the  digni- 
fied, traditional  Lady,  in  the  person  of  Mrs.  Warner. 
As  joint  managers  of  the  renovated  Sadler's  Wells 
Theatre,  on  May  27.  1844,  they  began  with  "  Mac- 
beth "  the  long  and  noble  series  of  Shakespearian 
productions  that  marked  the  new  career  of  that 
house.  Following  Mrs.  Warner  is  seen  the  natural 
born  actress,  Isabel  Glyn,  tall,  dark-eyed,  and  dark- 
featured. 


206  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

In  the  Kean  revivals  of  a  subsequent  date,  Mrs. 
Kean  was  too  gentle  and  womanly  to  stand  the  test 
of  comparison  with  the  great  players  before  her. 

As  for  Neilson,  she  told  Eben  Plympton,  the 
actor,  that  she  had  studied  Lady  Macbeth,  but 
should  not  attempt  the  part  until  she  was  forty; 
she  died  at  the  age  of  thirty-two.  Kate  Bateman 
(Mrs.  Crowe),  one  of  the  child  prodigies  of  1851, 
played  the  part  in  1873  to  Henry  Irving's  Macbeth, 
and  then,  with  the  interlude  of  Genevieve  Ward, 
came  Ellen  Terry  to  a  later  Macbeth  of  Irving,  — 
later  in  date  but  not  in  conception  ;  for  Irving,  in 
spite  of  hot  criticism,  has  clung  to  his  humanized 
character. 

So  interesting  is  the  story  of  Genevieve  Ward, 
and  so  famous  in  America  was  her  acting  in  "  For- 
get-Me-Not,"  that  it  is  worth  while  to  pause  a 
moment  and  speak  of  her  career. 

Miss  Ward  was  the  granddaughter  of  Samuel 
Ward,  a  Bostonian,  who  married  Miss  Lee,  the 
daughter  of  Gideon  Lee,  also  a  native  Bostonian, 
though  his  greatest  fame  came  as  Mayor  of  New 
York.  Miss  Lee,  just  before  her  marriage,  was  in- 
directly the  cause  of  a  royal  Duke  and  future  King 
of  Eno-land  sfettinsf  himself  "knocked  out  in  one 
round,"   as  the    ring   parlance  would   have   it.     She 


GENEVIEVE    WARD    AS    LADY    MACBETH. 


LADY   MACBETH.  207 

was  walking  with  her  brother  through  the  streets 
of  Halifax  when  II is  Grace,  the  Duke  of  Clarence 
(afterward  William  IV.),  then  in  command  of  a 
royal  frigate  in  the  harbor,  met  the  two,  and,  having 
indulged  in  spirituous  liquors  to  a  degree  that  car- 
ried away  his  sense  of  decorum,  expressed  his  ad- 
miration of  Miss  Lee's  beauty  in  terms  evidently 
sincere,  but  not  strictly  conventional.  Whereat 
the  independent  American  brother  let  out  with  his 
sturdy  right  arm,  and  knocked  the  scion  of  nobility 
to  the  ground. 

Miss  Ward  inherited  a,  great  deal  of  this  spirit 
and  independence  in  her  own  character.  Had  she 
not.  it  might  have  been  that  that  sad  romance  of  her 
early  days  would  have  resulted  still  more  sadly. 
The  beautiful  American  maiden,  still  in  her  teens, 
had  sorrow  enough  facing  her  when  she  found  that 
Count  Guerbel,  although  married  legally  to  her  by 
American  law,  was  seeking  to  evade  the  Greek 
rites  that  alone  would  be  binding  upon  him  in  his 
native  land  of  Russia.  With  pluck  and  energy  the 
wife  sought  the  Tsar,  and  through  him  secured  the 
solemnization  of  the  marriage  in  full  form. 

How  vivid  is  the  picture,  to  all  who  have  heard 
the  story,  of  that  young  girl,  dressed  in  deepest 
black  as  though  it  were  a  funeral  instead  of  a  mar- 


208  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

riage,  standing  before  the  altar  while  her  rights  were 
accorded  her ;  how  more  vividly  impressive  the  whirl- 
ing away  out  of  Russia  before  the  bridegroom  could 
fully  realize  his  situation.  She  had  vindicated  her 
name,  and  that  was  all  she  desired. 

But  Mme.  Guerbel  soon  became  Mine.  Guerra- 
bella,  not  by  another  marriage,  not  by  legal  process, 
but  simply  through  the  twisting  that  people  of  one 
nationality  give  to  names  of  another  nation  —  just 
as  Modjeska  was  evolved  out  of  Modrzejewska. 
The  Italians  found  Guerrabella  much  more  natural 
for  their  flowing  language  than  hard-sounding 
Guerbel. 

And  here  was  this  American  girl,  barely  twenty 
years  of  age,  passing  through  all  the  vicissitudes  of 
life,  and  rising  above  them  so  as  to  become  widely 
known,  even  at  that  time,  as  a  cantatrice.  She 
sought  commendation  solely  through  her  merits. 
Her  friends  tell  the  story  of  the  masquerade  before 
Lamperti.  The  famous  teacher,  one  day.  saw  enter 
his  apartments  a  poorly  dressed  girl,  with  features 
disguised  by  great  green  goggles.  She  wanted  to 
sinsr  to  him.  He  bade  her  aro  on:  and  the  moment 
she  had  finished  her  last  note  he  brusquely  declared, 
"You  can  sing;  I'll  teach  you."  It  was  Mme. 
Guerbel  seeking  in  this  way  an  unprejudiced  and 
correct  opinion  of  her  voice. 


LADY    MACBETH.  209 

After  her  successes  in  opera,  what  an  affliction  it 
was  suddenly  to  lose  her  voice  in  the  midst  of  a 
season  in  Cuba !  And  this  to  come,  too,  at  the  time 
when  her  father  was  out  of  health  and  suffering 
from  reverses  of  fortune.  But  the  dramatic  stage 
was  open  to  the  artist  —  open,  but  hard  to  attain. 
In  her  own  native  land  she  could  obtain  no  chance 
to  appear.  In  England  it  took  a  hard  struggle  and 
the  influence  of  powerful  friends  to  gain  a  hearing  ; 
but  once  on  the  sta^e  she  was  secure. 

On  that  night  when  Miss  Ward  made  her  debut 
as  an  actress,  in  Manchester,  England,  (Jet.  1,  1873, 
a  trick  was  attempted  to  thwart  her  in  the  sleep- 
walking scene.  An  envious  stage  associate,  just 
before  the  act  began,  removed  the  table  on  which 
the  candle  was  to  be  placed. 

"What  shall  I  do?*'  cried  the  debutante  as  she 
discovered  the  loss. 

"  You  can  drop  the  candle,"  was  the  taunting 
rejoinder. 

But  Miss  Ward  was  too  resourceful  for  that. 
Seizing  a  three-legged  stool,  she  hastily  thrust  it 
upon  the  scene,  escaping  into  the  wings  just  in  time 
to  avoid  being  seen  by  the  audience  as  the  curtain 
rose. 

Gifted  with  a  magnificent  figure  and  classic  fea- 


210  Shakespeare's  heeoines. 

tures,  the  actress  who  in  six  months  could  prepare 
to  act  fourteen  characters,  of  which  live  were  Shake- 
speare's, certainly  had  natural  advantages  of  phy- 
sique and  mind  for  laborious  parts.  "In  her  murder- 
ous exhortations  to  Macbeth,"  cried  a  critic  who  saw 
her  first  performance  in  the  play,  w<  she  was  savage 
and  soothing  by  turns,  and  thus,  as  it  were,  made 
the  one  manner  serve  to  show  the  other  in  stronger 
relief.  Her  hissing  whispers,  again,  in  the  scene  fol- 
lowing the  murder,  made  a  similarly  effective  con- 
trast with  the  full-toned  horror  of  Macbeth's.  1 1 
have  done  the  deed.'  ' 

Ellen  Terry,  coming  later,  attempted  to  revolu- 
tionize the  remorseless,  terrible  woman  of  previous 
impersonators.  She  believed  Shakespeare's  Lady 
Macbeth  was  essentially  feminine,  and  based  one 
argument,  to  clinch  that  plea,  upon  the  woman's 
fainting  after  the  murder,  when  triumph  is  appar- 
ently at  hand.  Mrs.  Siddons,  with  others,  omitted 
that  effect  as  inconsistent  with  their  conception  of 
the  character.  With  Terry,  soft  smiles  preceded 
and  followed  terrible  utterances;  in  Macbeth's  arms 
she  rested  in  gentlest  womanhood  ;  in  the  manner 
of  a  dove  she  described  the  murderous  act  of  a 
demon.  Human  even  to  charming,  modern  and 
womanly,   Terry's    Lady  Macbeth   was    regarded    as 


LADY    MACBETH.  211 

more    of    a    curious    novelty    than    an    accurate    im- 
personation. 

While  this  new  Lady  Macbeth,  in  place  of  the 
raven  locks  of  tradition,  displayed  hair  of  a  reddish 
tint  with  two  long  braids  reaching  to  the  ground, 
and  showed  a  blithe,  companionable  woman,  her  Mac- 
beth, as  pictured  by  Mr.  Irving,  was  an  irresolute, 
craven  self-lover.  Beardless,  with  a  little  flaming 
red  mustache  projecting  only  beyond  the  corners  of 
the  lips,  Irving  was  pictured  by  one  critic  as  "  a 
Macbeth  with  a  restless  eye,  a  Macbeth  with  a  spare, 
nervous  frame,  a  Macbeth  with  the  face  of  a  hungry 
gray  wolf."  With  rare  consistency,  the  actor  has 
kept  his  delineation  of  the  character  unchanged,  in 
spite  of  the  criticism  that  had  attacked  his  first  pre- 
sentation some  years  before  the  later  grand  revival. 

Bv  a  sad  coincidence,  on  the  very  night  Ellen 
Terry  for  the  first  time  essayed  Lady  Macbeth,  Isabel 
Glyn-Dallas,  the  most  noted  Lady  Macbeth  surviving 
at  that  time,  lay  on  her  death-bed. 

Last  of  all,  on  the  English  stage,  came  Mrs.  Lang- 
try,  a  Lady  Macbeth  so  coquettish  as  to  creep  into 
the  embrace  of  her  vacillating  husband  and  nestle 
there,  as  for  a  kiss,  while  she  urged  him  to  the  ter- 
rible deed;  amiable  and  gentle  in  her  dismissal  of 
the  guests  before  she  covers  up  the  crouching  Mac- 


212  shakespeake's  heroines. 

beth  to  hide  his  grovelling  from  the  .servants;  feeble, 
faltering,  ghost-like  in  the  candle  scene,  "  winning 
pity,  tears,  forgiveness,  instead  of  exciting  horror," 
as  even  a  friendly  critic  described  her. 

But  one  native-born  American  has  ever  become 
famous  in  Lady  Macbeth.  The  world  knows  her 
name,  —  Charlotte  Cushman.  Mrs.  Duff  and  Mme. 
Janauschek,  however,  became  so  identified  with  the 
American  stage  that  their  names  should,  in  justice, 
follow  that  of  the  great  Boston  actress. 

A  group  of  lesser,  and  3-et  not  minor,  Lady  Mac- 
beths  can  be  collected  before  speaking  of  these  three. 
Mrs.  Douglass  (formerly  Mrs.  Hallam)  was  the  first 
actress  in  the  role  on  our  stage,  playing  the  part 
in  Philadelphia,  Dec.  1,  1759,  with  her  son,  the 
younger  Lewis  Hallam,  as  the  first  Macbeth  of 
America,  just  as  he  had  also  been,  ten  weeks  before, 
the  first  Hamlet. 

Following  the  next  Ladies,  Miss  Cheer  and  Mrs. 
Ryan,  and  preceding  Mrs.  Whitlock,  Mrs.  Henderson, 
and  Boston's  first  Lady  Macbeth,  of  Dec.  21,  1795, 
Mrs.  Snelling  Powell,  came  Mrs.  Melmorth,  a  re- 
spectable English  farmer's  daughter,  who,  while  at 
boarding-school,  lost  her  heart  to  young  Pratt,  other- 
wise known  as  Courtney  Melmorth,  and  eloped  with 
the  theatrical  gentleman.     They  both  acted  in  Lon- 


LADY    MACBETH.  213 

don ;  but  the  lady,  in  spile  of  her  shapely  form  and 
sweet  voiee,  failed  to  make  an  impression  in  the  me- 
tropolis. The  Scottish  and  Irish  capitals  recognized 
her  talents,  and  even  welcomed  her  in  opera ;  but, 
after  twenty  years'  experience  up-hill  and  down-hill, 
the  Melmorths,  in  1793,  came  to  our  shores.  Here,  in 
their  very  first  season,  the  wife  acted  in  "  Macbeth." 

The  once  shapely  figure  of  the  lady  had  now 
developed  into  such  generous  proportions  as  nearly 
to  wreck  her  dSbut  in  New  York,  through  one  of 
those  unlucky  misapplications  of  the  text  of  the 
play.  "  Strike  here,''  she  cried,  as  Euphrasia  in 
the  "  Grecian  Daughter,"  when  bidding  Dionysius 
kill  her  rather  than  her  beloved  father,  "Strike  here; 
here's  blood  enough."  The  audience  forgot  the  point 
of  the  dao-o-er  in  the  point  of  the  words,  and  roared 
so  heartily  as  utterly  to  disconcert  the  players. 
Never  again  did  Mrs.  Melmorth  utter  those  words, 
"  Here's  blood  enough,"  when  she  acted  Euphrasia. 

Mme.  Ponisi  and  Mrs.  D.  P.  Bowers,  both  of 
whom  Ave  have  found  interestingly  connected  with 
the  early  productions  of  "Antony  and  Cleopatra" 
in  America,  and  both  of  whom  survive  to-day,  the 
one  with  a  record  of  forty-five  years  upon  the 
stage,  the  other  with  nearly  half  a  century  of  ex- 
perience, were  Lady  Macbeths  in  the  former  genera- 


214  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

tion.  Mine.  Ponisi  acted  to  the  Thane  of  Edwin 
Forrest  shortly  after  the  great  Astor  Place  riot, 
when  Macready  was  practically  stoned  from  New 
York  by  the  assault  of  the  mob  on  the  playhouse 
while  the  Englishman  was  trying  to  act  Macbeth. 

And  here  it  may  be  mentioned  that  the  English- 
born  Lady  Macbeth  of  that  -unfortunate  night  of 
May  10,  18-49,  was  Mrs.  Coleman-Pope,  a  beautiful 
and  queenly  looking  woman,  who,  when  the  stones 
crashed  through  the  windows,  and  the  rattle  of 
musketry  without  showed  that  blood  was  being- 
shed,  stood  without  flinching  by  the  side  of  Mac- 
beth, displaying  undaunted  mettle.  She  was  at 
that  time  forty  years  of  age. 

Mrs.  Bowers,  whose  debut  dates  back  to  18-46.  is 
still  an  active  figure  on  the  stage.  The  daughter 
of  an  Episcopal  clergyman,  the  Rev.  William  A. 
Crocker,  of  Stamford,  Conn.,  she  was  born  in  1830. 
Probably  her  most  noted  characters  have  been  Lady 
Audrey,  in  -Lady  Audley's  Secret,"  and  Eliza- 
beth. 

With  Mrs.  E.  L.  Davenport  our  heroine  has  an 
interesting  connection,  from  being  the  last  character 
that  excellent  actress  played  upon  the  stage.  On 
the  7th  of  April.  1890,  a  benefit  to  commemorate 
the    memory    of     Mrs.     Vincent,     the     noted    "old 


LADY    MACBETH.  215 

woman"  of  the  Boston  Museum  stage,  was  held  at 
the  Globe  Theatre  in  Boston.  Joseph  Proctor,  the 
famous  Nick  of  the  Woods  of  other  years,  and 
to-day,  at  the  age  of  seventy-nine,  one  of  the  last 
survivors  of  the  past  generation  of  actors,  volun- 
teered to  play  Macbeth,  while  Mrs.  Davenport, 
though  then  in  her  sixty-fifth  year,  repeated  the 
lines  of  his  Lady. 

Born  in  Bath,  England,  in  1826,  Fanny  Vining 
Davenport  died  in  Canton,  Penn.,  July  20,  1891. 
Her  father,  Frederick  Vining,  was  a  light  comedian ; 
her  mother,  Miss  Bew,  was  the  daughter  of  John 
Johnston,  a  famous  delineator  of  Irish  characters, 
and  was  also  the  sister  of  Mrs.  James  W.  Wallack, 
Sr.  The  children  of  Mr.  and  Mis.  Davenport 
adopted  the  stage  ;  and  one,  Fanny,  is  counted 
among  the  Beatrices,  Imogens,  and  Rosalinds  of 
Shakespeare.  The  first  marriage  of  Fanny  Vin- 
ing was  unhappy  ;  but  with  Mr.  Davenport  her 
union  was  congenial  and  fortunate,  the  two  act- 
ing together  through  the  greater  part  of  their  mar- 
ried life.  It  was  on  the  2d  of  March,  1855,  that 
Mrs.  Davenport  made  her  American  dSbut;  so  that 
her  last  appearance  was  not  until  thirty-five  years 
afterwards.  From  Mrs.  Micawber  to  Lady  Macbeth 
was  her  range  of  parts. 


216  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

A  criticism  of  Miss  Avonia  Jones's  first  appear- 
ance as  Lachr  Macbeth  lies  before  me.  It  commends 
the  actress  for  her  pains,  and  thus  describes  her  in- 
terpretation of  two  scenes  :  "  Just  previous  to  the 
re-entry  of  Macbeth  from  the  chamber  of  Duncan, 
the  terrible  words,  '  That  which  hath  made  them 
drunk  hath  made  me  bold,'  etc.,  were  pronounced 
in  a  loud  whisper,  which  was  continued  during 
nearly  the  entire  scene  that  followed,  and  pro- 
duced, combined  with  the  fine  acting  of  both  prin- 
cipals, an  almost  appalling  effect.  In  the  banquet 
scene  Miss  Jones  acts  the  whole  time ;  she  watches 
Macbeth  with  a  restless  glance  of  anxious  dread, 
when  she  observes  his  perturbation,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  fulfils  the  courtesies  of  her  w  state  '  with 
grace  and  dignity.  The  words,  'This  is  the  very 
painting  of  your  fear, '  were  uttered  in  the  ear  of 
her  husband  with  a  scornful  emphasis,  though  in  a 
tone  to  be  heard  by  him  alone.  All  this  was  worked 
up  with  great  art." 

Miss  Jones  came  of  parentage  curiously  noted. 
Her  mother,  Mrs.  Melinda  Jones,  of  majestic  figure 
and  powerful  voice,  who  often  played  Romeo  to 
the  daughter's  Juliet,  was  known  in  the  West, 
according  to  Stone,  as  the  "  Man-Flogger,"  from 
her  frequent  cowhiding  of  actors  and  editors.     Her 


LADY    MACBETH.  217 

father  was  "  George,  the  Count  Joannes,"  whose 
strange  acts  on  and  off  the  stage  led  to  many  scenes 
of  bedlam  in  the  theatre,  and  much  ridiculing  com- 
ment without.  Avonia  was  born  in  New  York, 
July  12,  1839,  and  there  died,  Oct.  5,  1867,  eight 
years  before  her  mother's  death,  and  twelve  years 
before  her  father's  death.  She  was  the  wife  of 
Gustavus  Brooke,  the  tragedian,  whose  death  in 
shipwreck  at  sea  is  one  of  the  sad  but  heroic 
pictures  of  life. 

One  of  the  Lady  Macbeths  to  Edwin  Booth,  some 
years  ago,  was  Charlotte  Crampton,  the  pretty,  hot- 
headed, eccentric,  wild-living  Mazeppa,  who,  in  the 
scant  stage-costume  of  that  character,  could  dare  leap 
on  her  horse's  back,  on  a  bitter  cold  night,  and  dash 
through  the  streets  of  Boston,  followed  by  a  howling 
rabble.  Matilda  Heron,  whom  we  associate  now 
chiefly  with  Camille,  made  her  first  appearance  on 
the  New  York  stage  (Aug.  23,  1852)  at  the  Bowery 
as  Lady  Macbeth  to  Hamblin's  Macbeth,  and  made 
her  last  appearance  in  the  character  at  Booth's,  on 
Christmas  Day.  1874,  to  Vandenhoffs  Macbeth;  she 
played  other  parts  later. 

A  Camille  of  to-day,  also,  Clara  Morris,  once  tried 
ineffectually  the  part  of  our  heroine,  gaining  only 
the  criticism  of  being  kw  a  lachrymose  and  emotional 


218  shakespeake's  heroines. 

Lady  Macbeth."     But  Mrs.  Jean  Davenport  Lander, 
as  well  as  Mrs.  Farren,  won  honors  in  the  part. 

And  now  to  look  at  the  great  Lady  Macbeths. 
Above  them  all  towers  Charlotte  Cushman.  Mac- 
ready  said  of  her  impersonation,  when  describing  it 
to  Edward  L.  Davenport,  that  it  was  a  most  con- 
summate piece  of  art ;  so  powerful  in  its  nature,  so 
subtile  in  its  conception,  as  to  make  him  feel,  when 
on  the  stage  with  her,  that  he  was  less  than  a 
creature  of  secondary  consideration,  —  in  truth,  a 
mere  thing  of  naught.  Mr.  W.  T.  W.  Ball,  to 
whom  this  word  of  praise  was  repeated  by  Mr. 
Davenport,  says  of  Cushman,  that  in  Lady  Macbeth 
she  appeared  almost  in  her  own  proper  person,  so 
far  as  appearance  was  concerned,  being  grand  and 
imposing,  with  no  vestige  of  what  was  fair,  feminine, 
or  fragile.  "  There  was  one  little  touch  in  Miss 
Cushman's  embodiment  of  the  character,"  he  says, 
"that,  so  far  as  my  experience  goes,  was  entirely 
overlooked  by  other  actresses.  This  was  in  the 
only  interview  (Act  I.  Scene  6)  the  lady  has  with 
'the  gracious  Duncan.'  All  the  other  Lady  Mac- 
beths that  J  have  seen  invariably  met  the  King  in 
a  fawning  and  cringing  manner.  Miss  Cushman 
alone,  while  paying  due  homage  to  Duncan  as  her 
sovereign,  still  preserved  the  dignity  of  her  standing; 


CHARLOTTE    CUSHMAN     AS    LADY    MACBETH. 
From   an    Old     Print. 


LADY    MACBETH.  21  !> 

and,  though  playing  the  hostess  to  perfection,  she 
never  for  a  moment  permitted  the  audience  to  lose 
sight  of  the  fact  that  socially  and  by  birth  she  was 
the  peer  of  the  King." 

Vandenhoff,  who  took  rather  a  different  view  of 
Miss  Cushman,  gives  in  his  Note-Book  a  graphic 
description  of  one  scene.  "She  bullies  Macbeth," 
he  writes ;  "  gets  him  into  a  corner  of  the  stage, 
and,  as  I  heard  a  man  with  more  force  than  elegance 
express  it,  she  'pitches  into  him.'  In  fact,  as  one 
sees  her  large,  clinched  hand  and  muscular  arm 
threatening  him,  in  alarming  proximity,  one  feels 
that  if  other  arguments  fail  with  her  husband,  she 
will  have  recourse  to  blows." 

Lawrence  Barrett  used  to  say  that  Miss  Cushman 
supported  her  picturing  of  reckless  carelessness  in 
the  Macbeths'  actions  by  maintaining  that  both  the 
Thane  and  his  wife,  through  the  more  important 
scenes,  were  under  the  influence  of  wine. 

When  the  American  tragedienne  first  essayed  the 
great  character,  a  ludicrous  complication  occurred. 
Beginning  her  career  as  a  singer  at  the  Tremont 
Theatre,  Boston,  in  1835,  at  the  age  of  nineteen,  she 
accompanied  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Maeder  that  same  season 
to  New  Orleans,  where,  having  decided  to  abandon 
music   for  acting,  she   arranged   to  start  with   Lady 


220  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

Macbeth.  But  then  it  was  found  that  she  was 
destitute  of  the  proper  costumes.  A  note,  asking 
the  loan  of  clothes,  was  rushed  by  the  manager  to 
Mine.  Closel,  of  the  French  Theatre ;  and  Miss 
Cushman  also  went  to  see  the  lady. 

"  I  was  a  tall,  thin,  lanky  girl  at  the  time,"  she 
writes,  "-and  the  French  woman  was  a  short,  fat 
person  of  not  more  than  four  feet,  ten  inches,  waist 
full  twice  the  size  of  mine,  with  a  very  large  bust ; 
but  her  shape  did  not  prevent  her  being  a  very 
great  actress.  The  ludicrousness  of  her  clothes  beino- 
made  to  fit  me  struck  her  at  once.  She  roared  with 
laughter;  but  she  was  very  good-natured,  saw  my 
distress,  and  set  to  work  to  see  how  she  could 
help  it.  By  dint  of  piecing  out  the  skirt  of  one 
dress  it  was  made  to  answer  for  an  underskirt,  and 
then  another  dress  was  taken  in  in  every  direction 
to  do  duty  as  an  overdress,  and  so  make  up  the' 
costume.  And  thus  T  essayed  for  the  first  time  the 
part  of  Lady  Macbeth,  fortunately  to  the  satisfaction 
of  the  audience,  the  manager,  and  of  all  the  mem- 
bers of  the  company." 

With  Lady  Macbeth,  seven  years  later,  Miss  Cush- 
man so  interested  Macready  that  he  advised  her  to 
try  the  English  stage,  and  gave  to  the  young  plaj^er 
the  helping  hand  that  brought  her  first  into  promi- 


LADY   MACBETH.  221 

nence.  After  London  had  applauded  her  she  re- 
turned to  America,  to  become  the  leading  actress  of 
our  stage. 

Cushman's  later  days  were  a  battle  against  an  in- 
sidious disease;  but  all  the  depressions  of  such  a 
fate  failed  to  dim  the  earnestness  of  her  life.  She 
went  to  her  death  with  heart  unhardened  and  facul- 
ties undimmed.  On  the  7th  of  November,  1874,  at 
Booth's  Theatre,  she  bade  farewell  to  New  York  in 
her  favorite  character,  George  Vandenhoff  acting- 
Macbeth.  A  grand  testimonial  was  the  outpouring 
of  noted  men  and  women  on  that  occasion,  and  the 
subsequent  reception,  when  twenty  thousand  people 
crowded  about  her  hotel  to  greet  her.  A  round  of 
the  other  cities  followed;  and  then,  on  May  15,  1875, 
her  Lady  Macbeth  to  D.  W.  Waller's  Macbeth,  at 
the  Globe  Theatre,  Boston,  closed  her  career.  Nine 
months  later,  Feb.  18,  187*!,  in  her  sixtieth  year, 
Charlotte  Cushman  died  in  her  native  city. 

Twelve  years  before  Cushman  made  her  debut, 
there  had  appeared  a  Lady  Macbeth  who,  according 
to  the  later  judgment  of  Horace  Greeley,  had  never 
been  equalled.  The  first  time  Mary  Ann  Duff 
played  the  character  was  in  the  fall  of  1823,  when, 
having  acquired  the  reputation  of  being  "  the  dar- 
ling of  the  Boston  boards,"  she  accepted  an  engage- 


222  shakespeaue's  heroines. 

ment  to  play  at  the  Park  Theatre,  in  New  York, 
and  made  her  courtesy  there  on  the  5th  of  Septem- 
ber.    Cooper  was  Macbeth. 

New  Yorkers  then  looked  askant  at  a  Boston  stock 
actress  presuming  to  "star"  in  their  town,  and  re- 
fused to  welcome  her  with  numbers ;  the  few  that 
did  attend  her  performances,  however,  admitted  her 
talent.  Later  years  were  to  bring  all  to  her  feet. 
Her  impersonation  nine  years  afterwards,  for  exam- 
ple, called  forth  these  words  from  Mr.  Greeley,  in 
his  "  Recollections  of  a  Busy  Life:  ''  "At  Richmond 
Hill  1  saw  Mrs.  Duff  personate  Lady  Macbeth  better 
than  it  has  since  been  done  in  this  city,  though  she 
played  for  thirty  dollars  per  week,  and  others  have 
since  received  ten  times  that  amount  for  a  single 
night.  I  doubt  that  any  woman  has  since  played  in 
our  city  —  and  I  am  thinking  of  Fanny  Kemble  — 
who  was  the  superior  of  Mrs.  Duff  in  a  wide  range 
of  trasfic  characters." 

Apropos  of  the  lady's  remuneration,  it  may  be  said 
that,  six  years  before  the  date  mentioned  by  Greeley, 
both  she  and  her  husband  together  received  only 
fifty-five  dollars  a  week  (and  the  profits  of  a  bene- 
fit), during  a  ten  weeks'  engagement  at  the  Lafay- 
ette Theatre,  New  York.  Mrs.  Pelby  and  W.  R. 
Blake  received  but   twenty-five  dollars ;   Mrs.  Wal- 


MME.    JANAU'CHEK. 


LADY    MACBETH.  223 

stein,  a  capable  "old  woman,'*  only  fifteen  dollars; 
and  Maywood,  then  a  star,  thirty-five  dollars. 

Mine.  Janauschek's  impersonation  of  Lady  Mac- 
beth is  marked  by  its  direct  force,  its  determined 
character,  and  its  unrelenting  terribleness.  In  that 
scene,  especially,  where  she  discovers  that  Macbeth 
has  brought  away  the  bloody  dagger  from  the  death- 
chamber,  and  then  herself  ends  the  deed  he  had 
begun,  the  fierceness  of  anger  at  what  she  regards 
as  his  negligence,  and  the  strength  of  resolution  in 
the  execution  of  the  act,  are  almost  leonine. 

It  is  now  nearly  fifty  years  since  this  talented 
Austrian  artist  began  her  professional  career.  In- 
tended in  early  life  as  a  musician,  she  was  drawn 
away  from  that  profession  by  a  slight  circumstance, 
—  a  temporary  injury  to  the  hand  that  prevented 
piano  practice  ;  and  then,  at  the  age  of  twenty, 
stepped  upon  the  stage  of  the  theatre  in  Prague, 
her  native  town,  to  inaugurate  a  successful  dramatic 
career. 

Mine.  Janauschek  has  not  at  all  times  been  for- 
tunate. A  third  of  a  million  of  dollars  has  been 
swept  away  by  reverses,  and  with  the  money  dis- 
appeared the  magnificent  jewels  that  were  formerly 
the  envy  of  all  ladies.  But  personal  friends  stood 
by  her  in  time  of    trouble  ;  and  through  their  help 


224  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

she  weathered  the  storms  of  an  adverse  fortune, 
to  start  again,  with  energy  and  pluck,  upon  her 
life-work. 

Her  artistic  career  has  always  heen  successful. 
With  natural  genius  and  long  experience  she  has 
combined  unceasing  industry.  In  nine  months  she 
mastered  the  English  language  so  as  to  be  able  to 
write  it  and  use  it  on  the  stage  ;  while  her  acquaint- 
ance with  French,  German,  Bohemian,  and  Italian 
illustrates  her  studious  mind.  Nor  is  this  the  only 
characteristic  in  which  she  differs  from  the  actresses 
of  the  past  century.  What,  for  instance,  would  Mrs. 
Pritchard  have  thought  of  a  Lady  Macbeth  who,  as 
T  was  once  told  by  a  member  of  Mine.  Janauschek's 
company,  knew  every  part  as  well  as  she  did  her 
own,  and  would  coach  leaders  and  supernumeraries 
in  little  points  of  gesture,  facial  expression,  and 
lone  of  voice,  not  only  by  description,  but  also  by 
action. 

With  Modjeska's  name  the  list  of  Lady  Macbeths 
must  close,  until  a  new  star  shall  appear  in  the  the- 
atrical firmament.  On  the  18th  of  November,  1889, 
at  the  Broadway  Theatre,  New  York,  she  first  played 
the  character;  up  to  that  time,  it  is  said,  she  had 
never  seen  a  performance  of  the  tragedy  on  any 
stage.     Tins  was  the  season  when  Edwin  Booth  and 


RISTORI    AS    LADY    MACBETH. 


LADY    MACBETH.  225 

Mine.  Modjeska  were  starring  together,  under  the 
management  of  Lawrence  Barrett. 

Twenty-nine  years  before  this,  March  21,  1860, 
Booth  and  Cnshman  acted  the  Thane  and  his  wife 
in  one  benefit  performance  at  the  Academy  of  Music, 
New  York.  Booth  also  acted  to  the  Lady  Macbeth 
of  Ristori  ;  and  with  a  few  words  about  this  great 
visiting  tragedienne  we  may  drop  the  curtain  on 
"Macbeth." 

Born  of  humble  parentage,  near  Venice,  and 
placed  upon  the  stage  at  the  age  of  four  to  assist 
her  strolling  play-actor  parents,  Ristori  twice  left 
the  stage  in  somewhat  romantic  manner.  Her  first 
desertion  was  her  elopement,  at  the  age  of  twenty- 
four,  with  a  marquis's  son.  Her  second  departure 
was  in  order  to  serve  in  the  Revolution  of  1848  as  a 
Sister  of  Charity.  Even  in  this  religious  vocation, 
however,  the  theatre  must  have  remained  in  the  mind 
of  the  born  actress  ;  for  we  hear  of  her  crying  out 
with  grim  humor,  when  the  shells  from  the  French 
batteries  struck  her  apartments  while  she  was  recit- 
ing, for  recreation,  passages  from  "Medea,"  "Ah, 
the  enemy  are  throwing  bouquets  to  me."  After  the 
war  Ristori  returned  to  the  stage  to  become  famous 
the  world  over.  In  1866  she  first  visited  America. 
Ristori's  Lady  Macbeth,  as  steadfastly  held  by  her  in 


226  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

argument  and  in  action,  was  animated  less  by  affec- 
tion for  her  husband  than  by  excessive  ambition  to 
share  the  throne.  Her  performance  was  admired  for 
its  consistent  strength  and  naturalness.  Her  reading 
of  the  lines,  "But  screw  your  courage  to  the  stick- 
ing-point,  and  we'll  not  fail,"  made  them  form  an 
indignant  exclamation,  as  though  failure  were  an 
impossibility ;  while  her  sleep-walking  scene  was 
pronounced  by  an  able  critic,  "a  sermon,"  a  sad, 
solemn,  retributive  vision  of  a  broken-hearted  woman 
on  her  way  to  the  grave. 


QUEEN   KATHARINE. 
(Henry  VIII.) 


Pretty  Miss  Saunderson  played  Queen  Katharine 
in  the  pageant  that  Sir  William  Davenant  brought 
out  on  New  Year's  Day  at  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields, 
fifty  years  after  the  old  Globe  Theatre  had  burned 
to  the  ground  during  a  performance  of  an  adaptation 
of  Shakespeare's  "  Henry  VIII."  That  very  year, 
1663,  marked  the  marriage  of  our  Queen  and  her 
King,  stately  Betterton.  Their  married  life  con- 
tinued pleasantly  for  forty -seven  years  ;  and  then 
Betterton  passed  away,  to  be  followed  in  eighteen 
months  by  his  devoted,  grief-stricken  wife. 

The  later  Katharines  were,  for  the  most  part,  ac- 
tresses who  also  essayed  Lady  Macbeth,  so  that  a 
glance  at  their  impersonations  will  be  sufficient. 
The  stately  Mrs.  Porter,  by  her  admirable  delivery 
of  the  text,  invariably  won  the  audience  to  applause 
with  her  very  first  speech  to  the  King,  energetically 


•>•>•; 


228  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

conveying  in   its  utterance  the  prime  duties  of  the 
kingly  office  :  — 

"  That  you  would  love  yourself,  and  in  that  love 
Not  unconsidered  leave  your  honor,  nor 
The  dignity  of  your  office,  is  the  point 
Of  my  petition." 

"  Her  conduct  in  the  whole  scene  was  a  mixture  of 
graceful  elocution  and  dignified  behavior,"  is  the  de- 
scription given  of  her  acting  by  a  writer  who  also 
says,  "  the  dignity  and  grace  of  a  queen  were  never, 
perhaps,  more  happily  set  off  than  by  Mrs.  Porter. 
There  was  an  elevated  consequence  in  the  manner  of 
that  actress  which  was  in  vain  sought  for  in  her 
successors.*" 

In  spite  of  her  harsh,  tremulous  voice,  Mrs.  Porter 
held  the  audiences  intent  by  her  very  force.  She  had 
courage  off  the  stage  as  well  as  on.  When  a  high- 
wayman, one  summer's  night,  stopped  her  chaise  and 
demanded  her  money,  she  presented  him  instead  with 
the  glimmer  of  a  pistol,  holding  it  at  his  head  until 
the  fellow,  in  trembling  fear,  explained  that  it  was 
dire  necessity,  not  wickedness,  that  led  him  thus  to 
relieve  his  starving  family.  Thereat  our  kind-hearted 
Queen  dropped  her  pistol,  and  thrust  her  purse  into 
his  hand.  With  joy  the  fellow  rushed  away  ;  but 
Mrs.   Porter,    whipping  up   her   horse  too  suddenly. 


QUEEN    KATHARINE.  229 

was  thrown  from  the  carriage,  and  for  the  rest  oi 
her  life  was  Lamed  by  this  catastrophe.  Yet,  for- 
getful of  herself,  on  the  very  day  after  the  accident, 
she  had  the  truthfulness  of  the  man's  story  ascer- 
tained, and  for  his  needs  raised  a  purse  of  sixty 
pounds  among  her  friends.  Her  own  pecuniary 
rewards  were  not  great;  for  when  she  died  in  1762, 
at  an  advanced  age,  she  was  dependent  upon  the 
honest  benevolence  of  Lord  Cornburv. 

Mrs.  Pritchard  was  absolute  perfection  as  Katha- 
rine, and  as  Queen  Gertrude  in  "  Hamlet."  Her 
acting  of  the  trial  scene  in  "  Henry  VIII."  won 
especial  renown. 

Miss  Younge  (Mrs.  Pope)  "  could  play  Katharine 
well,  but  not  equal  to  Mrs.  Siddons,"  said  Boaden ; 
and  his  words  bring  us  to  the  Queen  of  Tragedy. 
Let  us  stop  for  a  moment,  however,  to  speak  of 
the  origin  of  that  famous  painting  of  the  Tragic 
Muse,  by  which  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  has  handed 
down  to  future  generations  the  noble  features  of 
Mrs.  Siddons. 

"  I  had  frequently  the  honor  of  dining  with  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds,  in  Leicester  Square,"  the  actress 
says  in  her  autobiography.  "At  his  house  assembled 
all  the  good,  the  wise,  the  talented,  the  rank  and 
fashion,  of  the  age.    About  this  time  he  produced  his 


230  shakespeaee's  heroines. 

picture  of  me  in  the  character  of  the  Tragic  Muse. 
In  justice  to  his  genius,  I  cannot  but  remark  his 
instantaneous  decision  of  the  attitude  and  expression 
of  the  picture.  It  was,  in  fact,  decided  within  the 
twinkling  of  an  eye.  When  I  attended  him  for  the 
sitting,  after  more  gratifying  encomiums  than  I  can 
now  repeat,  he  took  me  by  the  hand,  saying,  '  As- 
cend your  undisputed  throne,  and  graciously  bestow 
upon  me  some  good  idea  of  the  Tragic  Muse.'  I 
walked  up  the  steps,  and  instantly  seated  myself 
in  the  attitude  in  which  the  Tragic  Muse  now 
appears.  This  idea  satisfied  him  so  well  that  with- 
out one  moment's  hesitation  he  determined  not  to 
alter  it," 

At  the  close  of  his  work  Sir  Joshua  gallantly  re- 
marked, after  declaring  that  the  color  would  remain 
unfaded  as  long  as  the  canvas  held  together:  "To 
confirm  my  opinion  here  is  my  name ;  for  I  have 
resolved  to  go  down  to  posterity  on  the  hem  of  your 


garment. 


Accordingly  his  name  appears  on  the  border  of 
the  drapery. 

In  the  closing  days  of  the  year  1788,  after  Shake- 
speare's "Henry  VIII."  had  slept  for  half  a  century, 
the  Drury  Lane  stage  saw  a  magnificent  production 
of    the    play,    with    the    Siddons    as    Katharine,    her 


MRS.   5IDD0NS    AS    THE    TRAGIC    MUSE. 
Painted   by    Sir    Joshua    Reynolds. 


QUEEN    KATHARINE.  23"! 

brother  John  Kemble  as  Cromwell,  Palmer  as  King 
Henry,  and  Bensley  as  Cardinal  Wolsey. 

Old  Sam  Johnson  was  not  there  to  enjoy  the  grand 
performance.  "Dr.  Johnson's  favorite  female  char- 
acter in  Shakespeare,"  wrote  Mrs.  Siddons,  "was 
Katharine,  in  'Henry  VIII.'  He  was  most  desirous 
of  seeing  me  in  that  play,  but  said,  'I  am  too  deaf 
and  too  blind  to  see  or  hear  at  a  greater  distance 
than  the  stage-box,  and  have  little  taste  for  making- 
myself  a  public  gaze  in  so  distinguished  a  situation.* 
1  assured  him  that  nothing  would  gratify  me  so 
much  as  to  have  him  for  an  auditor,  and  that  I  could 
procure  for  him  an  easy-chair  at  the  stage -door,  where 
he  would  both  see  and  hear,  and  be  perfectly  con- 
cealed. He  appeared  greatly  pleased  with  this  ar- 
rangement ;  but,  unhappily  for  me,  he  did  not  live 
to  fulfil  our  mutual  wishes.  Some  weeks  before  he 
died  I  made  him  some  morning  visits.  Pie  was  ex- 
tremely, though  formally,  polite  ;  always  apologized 
for  being  unable  to  attend  me  to  my  carriage  ;  con- 
ducted me  to  the  head  of  the  stairs,  kissed  my  hand, 
and  bowing,  said,  'Dear  Madam,  I  am  your  most 
humble  servant ;  '  and  these  were  always  repeated 
without  the  smallest  variation." 

No  wonder  the  spectators  watched  with  fascinated 
eyes   the  scornful  majesty,  the  contempt,  the  anger, 


232  shakespkaee*s  heroines. 

and  the  terrific  pride  of  innocence  which  Campbell 
pointed  ont,  when  the  actress,  turning  to  Wolsey, 
exclaimed,  "  To  you  I  speak !  '  Her  form  seemed  to 
expand,  and  her  eyes  to  burn  with  fire  beyond  human, 
cried  the  chronicler  of  old.  "  There  were  none  who 
did  not  feel  the  agonies  of  sympathy  when  they  saw 
her  efforts  to  suppress  the  grief  to  which  her  woman's 
nature  was  yielding- ;  who  did  not  acknowledge,  in 
her  manner,  the  truth  of  her  assertion  of  royalty; 
and  who  did  not  experience  a  portion  of  that  awe 
which  Wolsey  might  be  supposed  to  feel,  when  her 
sparks  of  fire  darted  through  her  drops  of  tears." 

Even  the  actors  were  affected.  One  night,  in  the 
provinces,  the  player  who  was  carrying  out  the  char- 
acter of  the  unjust  Surveyor  was  actually  overcome 
by  the  vehement  rebuke  of  the  Siddons's  Katharine, 
when  she  exclaimed,  — 

"  You  were  the  Duke's  Surveyor,  and  lost  your  office 
On  the  complaint  o'  the  tenants:  take  good  heed 
You  charge  not  in  your  spleen  a  noble  person, 
And  spoil  your  nobler  soul:   I  say,  take  heed  !" 

Overwhelmed  by  the  force  of  Sarah  Siddons's  elo- 
cution, the  actor  fairly  sweated  with  agitation  as  he 
left  the  stage. 

"  Why,  my  dear  fellow,"  cried  a  brother  player, 
"  what  is  the  matter  with  you  ?  " 


QUEEN    KATHARINE.  233 

"Matter,"  responded  the  shaking  Surveyor,  "that 
woman  plays  as  if  the  thing  were  in  earnest.  She 
looked  on  me  so  through  and  through  with  her  black 
eyes,  that  I  would  not  for  the  world  meet  her  on  the 
stage  again." 

The  death  scene  of  Siddons's  Queen  was  original 
in  her  day,  and  almost  faultless  in  its  truth  to  nature. 
Instead  of  following  the  old  idea  of  languor  and  mo- 
notonous action,  her  Katharine  was  fretful  and  rest- 
less, changing  her  pillows  hither  and  thither,  leaning 
her  hands  upon  her  knees,  to  hold  her  enfeebled 
frame,  and  playing  uneasily  with  her  drapery,  —  thus 
illustrating  vividly  the  struggle  of  the  woman  seek- 
ing relief  from  the  irritability  of  sickness. 

No  other  English  actress  has  equalled  the  glory  of 
Siddons  in  the  character.  No  American  actress  has 
eclipsed  the  glory  of  Charlotte  Cushman  as  the 
Queen.  Mrs.  Duff,  Ellen  Tree  (Mrs.  Charles  Kean), 
Mrs.  Warner,  Miss  Glyn,  Genevieve  Ward.  Mme. 
Janauschek,  Ellen  Terry,  and  Mme.  Modjeska  are 
names  the  most  prominent  in  the  secondary  list. 
Miss  Terry's  Katharine  was  first  seen  in  London, 
Jan.  5,  1892,  in  Henry  Irving's  pageant  production, 
at  the  Lyceum  Theatre,  where  Irving's  Wolsey  was 
picturesque  in  its  cold,  formal,  steel-like  drawing., 
and  Terry's   Katharine   was    always    the    Emperor's 


234  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

daughter  as  well  as  the  King's  wife,  strong  in  her 
own  realization  of  greatness,  though  kind  and  gra- 
cious to  her  friends. 

America  did  not  see  the  play  at  all  until  the 
present  century,  for  Hallam's  company  never  took 
"Henry  VIII."  into  its  repertoire.  Of  Katharines 
of  whom  we  have  record  in  this  country,  Mary  Ann 
Duff  is  the  first  in  date  of  appearance. 

In  plaintive  tenderness  of  tone,  in  majestic  dignity 
of  demeanor,  and  in  forceful  grace  of  action,  Mrs. 
Duff's  Katharine  is  said  to  have  excelled.  That 
same  tenderness  which  she  exhibited  upon  the  stage 
had  in  earlier  days,  when  the  maiden  was  a  Dublin 
dancer,  by  its  exhibition  in  private  life,  won  the  af- 
fection of  Tom  Moore.  But  the  girl  of  fifteen  years 
capriciously  refused  the  hand  of  the  Irish  poet, 
thus    causing    the    production    of    the    well-known 


song 


"Mary,  I  believed  thee  true, 

And  I  was  blest  in  so  believing; 
But  now  I  mourn  that  e'er  I  knew 
A  girl  so  fair  and  so  deceiving  !" 

Fortunately  for  his  peace  of  mind,  the  poet  after- 
wards found  that  Mary's  sister  Elizabeth  had  equal 
charms,  and  to  her  he  was  happily  married.  To 
compensate,  perhaps,  for  the  earlier  verses,  he  gave 
his  second  love   this  tribute:-- 


QUEEN    KATHARINE.  235 

"  Fly  from  the  world,  O  Bessy,  to  me, 

Thou  wilt  never  find  any  sincerer; 
I'll  give  up  the  world,  O  Bessy,  for  thee, 

I  can  never  meet  any  that's  dearer. 
Then  tell  me  no  more  with  a  tear  and  a  sigh 

That  our  loves  will  he  censured  hy  many  ; 
All,  all  have  their  follies,  and  who  will  deny 

That  ours  is  the  sweetest  of  any?" 

Charlotte  Cushman  first  played  Queen  Katharine  on 
the  English  stage  with  Macready ;  then  she  offered 
her  impersonation  to  her  fellow-people  of  America. 
Honors  fell  thick  upon  her.  When,  during  her  later 
years,  she  had  returned  to  the  character  at  Booth's 
Theatre,  New  York,  after  an  enforced  absence  from 
the  stage,  her  remarkable  strength  and  energy  in 
action  were  still  so  manifest  as  to  arouse  the  audience 
to  the  wildest  enthusiasm.  Cheers  called  her  to  the 
footlights  as  the  first  curtain  fell.  No  sooner  had 
she  retired  to  the  wings  than  another  emphatic 
"call v  resounded  through  the  house.  Her  eyes 
flashing  with  excitement,  her  form  quivering  from 
head  to  foot,  the  lover  of  her  profession,  throwing  up 
both  arms,  exclaimed  in  passionate  ecstasy,  "  Oh, 
how  have  I  ever  lived  without  this  through  all  these 


'is' 


years !  " 

Miss  Cushman's  last  Katharine,  acted  during-  her 
farewell  engagement  in  Boston,  her  native  city,  in 


236  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

May,  1875,  was  seen  by  the  scholarly  critic.  Mr.  H. 
A.  Clapp,  who  thus  described  the  impersonation  :  "In 
Miss  Cushman's  present  assumption  we  see  little  va- 
riation from  her  former  performance,  except  that  she 
now  emphasizes  the  queenly  and  majestic  side  of  the 
character  a  little  more  than  before,  and  thus  makes 
its  pathetic  aspect  somewhat  less  conspicuous.  A 
good  illustration  of  this  appears  in  Miss  Cnshman*s 
delivery  of  her  last  lines  in  the  trial  scene;  the 
words,  — 

'  I  will  not  tarry  ;  no,  nor  evermore, 
Upon  this  business,  my  appearance  make 
In  any  of  their  courts,'  — 

which  Miss  Cushman  used  to  give  with  a  burst  of 
anguish,  as  if  the  overfraught  heart  could  bear  its 
weight  no  longer,  she  now  declaims  with  fiery,  pas- 
sionate intensity.  Miss  Cushman  also  dwells  more 
than  used  to  be  her  wont  upon  the  physical  horrors 
of  her  sick  scene,  with  a  gain  to  its  sensational  ef- 
fect, but  with  a  slight  loss,  as  Ave  think,  to  the  beauty 
and  serenity  which  should  be  its  most  marked  quali- 
ties. But  the  whole  of  this  last  scene  is,  as  ever, 
most  touching  in  its  naturalness,  and  most  noble 
in  its  moral  grandeur  and  sweetness." 


PORTIA. 
(Merchant  of  Venice.) 


Good-humor ki>  Kitty  Clive,  clad  in  the  robes  of 
Portia,  must  have  looked  with  astonishment  upon 
the  Shylock  of  that  notable  evening  of  Feb.  14, 
1741,  when  Macklin  completely  transformed  the 
character  of  the  Jew. 

The  jovial  actress,  with  her  delight  for  fun-mak- 
ing, had  found  pleasure  in  giving  to  Portia  a  coarse 
and  even  flippant  character,  transforming  the  trial 
scene  into  buffoonery  by  mimicking  the  great  lawyer 
Murray,  afterwards  Lord  Mansfield;  while  all  Shy- 
locks  before  this  day,  with  their  laughter-provoking 
enunciation  and  gesture,  had  made  the  whole  tone 
of  the  play  farcical,  especially  arousing  roars  of 
laughter  at  the  "  comicality"  of  the  scene  with 
Tubal,  now  made  so  pathetic. 

But  Charles  Macklin,  whose  name  had  been  abbre- 
viated from  M'Laughlin,  had  studied  deeper  into 
the  character.      He  was  sure  that  the  part,   as  acted 

287 


288  shakespeaiie's  heroines. 

by  the  lively  little  comedian  Dogget, —  **  the  famous 
Mr.  Thomas  Docket "  Steele  called  him  in  The  Tat- 
ler,  —  was  fundamentally  wrong  in  its  conception, 
and  had  therefore  formed  a  noble  plan,  not  only  to 
drive  from  the  stage  that  alteration  by  George  Gran- 
ville (Viscount  Lansdowne)  which,  under  the  title 
"The  Jew  of  Venice,"  had  taken  the  place  of 
Shakespeare's  text,  but  also  to  crush  the  burlesque 
Shylock  with  it. 

It  was  a  tremendous  undertaking.  The  actor  did 
not  dare  tell  his  plan  to  fellow-players  or  to  mana- 
ger ;  during  the  rehearsals  he  merely  walked  through 
the  part.  But  his  scheme  leaked  out.  As  a  result, 
Drury  Lane  Theatre  was  filled  with  an  audience, 
one-half  of  which,  at  least,  was  ready  to  cry  down 
such  a  bold  innovation. 

"  The  wild  Irishman  '11  be  hissed  from  the  stage 
for  his  folly,"  exclaimed  old  Quin,  the  Antonio  of 
the  cast,  the  leading  representative  of  the  old  school 
of  actors,  and  the  bully  whom  Macklin  had  recently 
soundly  thrashed. 

But  yet  Quin  himself,  unintentionally,  paid  a  com- 
pliment, when  he  declared,  on  seeing  Macklin  ready 
for  the  part,  that  if  ever  Heaven  had  written  villain 
on  a  brow,  it  was  on  that  fellow's.  Shylock's  cos- 
tume, too,   was   a   novelty.     For  the  first    time    the 


MR.    MACKLIN. 


PORTIA.  239 

character  was  dressed  in  appropriate  clothes,  such 
as  the  stage  now  sees,  even  to  the  red  hat,  which,  as 
Mackiin  afterwards  told  Pope,  he  had  learned  in  an 
old  history  was  a  compulsory  badge  of  the  Jews  of 
Venice,  according  to  the  law  of   the  time. 

"  This  is  the  Jew 
That  Shakespeare  drew," 

sang  Pope,  after  seeing  that  triumphantly  malignant 
knife  scene  of  the  trial  act;  and  George  the  Second, 
nervously  impressed  by  the  performance  at  a  later 
date,  confessed  he  could  not  sleep  at  all  that  night. 
Indeed,  the  next  day,  when  Sir  Robert  Walpole 
chanced  to  remark  that  he  wished  there  was  some 
way    of    frio-htenino-    the    House    of    Commons    into 

v  CD  d 

doing  as  he  wished,  the  still  impressed  monarch 
exclaimed,  "  Send  them  to  the  theatre  to  see  that 
Irishman  act." 

"  I'm  not  worth  fifty  pounds  in  the  world,"  was 
the  word  of  honest,  blunt,  excitable  Mackiin,  when 
congratulations  poured  in  upon  him,  "  but  to-night 
I'm  Charles  the  Great." 

As  for  Kitty  Clive  —  well,  she  was  thirty  years  of 
age  when  she  played  Portia,  but  had  changed  none 
of  the  vivacious,  frolicsome  style  that  marked  her 
characters   ever  since  her  debut  of  twelve  years  be- 


240  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

fore,  and  that  was  to  mark  them  until  her  retirement 
after  forty  years  of  service  in  the  theatre.  With  her, 
as  she  once  intimated  in  a  letter  to  Garrick,  age  sig- 
nified nothing.  "  They  had  rather  see  the  Garrick 
and  the  Glive  at  one  hundred  and  four  years  than 
any  of  the  moderns,'"  she  declared,  adding  wittily, 
"The  ancients,  you  know,  have  always  been  ad- 
mired." But  though  unthinking  playgoers  liked 
her  Portia,  no  student  of  the  day  could  have  admired 
it.  Indeed,  the  frank  old  Dramatic  Censor  declared, 
"  The  applause  she  received  in  Portia  was  disgrace- 
ful both  to  herself  and  to  the  audience.  She  mur- 
dered the  blank  verse  with  a  harsh,  dissonant  voice, 
and  always  turned  the  last  scene  into  burlesque. 
Much  of  her  spite  against  Garrick  was  probably  due 
to  his  objecting  to  her  making  herself  absurd  in  such 
unsuitable  characters."  Davy,  however,  never  had 
the  courage  to  compel  sharp-tongued  Kitty  to  aban- 
don her  popular  mimicry ;  lie  lived  in  too  much  fear 
of  her  biting  sarcasm. 

More  remarkable,  however,  than  Olive's  career  was 
that  of  the  Shylock  of  that  evening  of  1741 ;  for  this 
robust,  earnest,  and  excellent  actor  was  to  play  the 
part  after  lie  had  reached  nearly  the  century  point, 
making  it  his  final  character  upon  the  stage,  as  he 
had   already  made  it  his   most  famous.     The   night 


KITTY    CLIVE. 


PORTIA.  241 

of  May  7,  1789,  the  Portia  was  Mrs.  Pope.  Kitty 
Clive,  the  Portia  of  forty-eight  years  previous,  had 
then  been  dead  nearly  four  years ;  and  yet  here  was 
the  same  Shylock,  dressed  and  ready  for  the  play. 

But  the  once  strong,  steady  brain  faltered  at  the 
post  of  duty.  For  the  first  time  old  Macklin's  Shy- 
lock  failed.  The  actors,  to  their  dismay,  had  noticed 
the  beginning  of  the  trouble  in  the  green-room,  when 
Shylock,  turning  to  Mrs.  Pope,  inquired  in  earnest 
words,  "  Is  there  a  play  to-night?  " 

"  A  play  ? "  exclaimed  Portia.  "  What,  sir,  is 
the  matter?  'T  is  the  'Merchant  of  Venice,'  you 
know. 

"  Then  who,  pray,  is  the  Shylock  ?  "  quoth  Mack- 
lin. 

Whereat  Mrs.  Pope  in  dismay  cried  out,  "  Why, 
sir,  you  to  be  sure  ;  are  you  not  dressed  for  the 
part?" 

Putting  his  hand  to  his  head  the  old  man,  in 
pathetic  recollection,  cried,  "  God  help  me !  my 
memory,  I  fear,  has  left  me." 

They  knew  not  whether  the  play  could  proceed; 
but,  by  dint  of  frequent  promptings  from  Portia,  the 
actor  dragged  along  for  a  while,  till,  finally  realiz- 
ing his  condition,  he  mumbled  a  few  words  of 
apology  to  the  audience  and  was  led  from  the  stage, 


242  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

never  again  to  tread  the  boards.  Outliving  his  first 
wife,  his  son,  and  his  daughter,  he  died  in  1797,  at 
the  age  of  one  hundred  and  seven  some  say,  or 
ninety-seven  according  to  the  testimony  of  others. 
His  coffin-plate  was  inscribed  ninety-seven. 

Our  Portia  at  the  mournful  Covent  Garden  per- 
formance had  possessed,  as  a  maiden  (Miss  Younge), 
a  face  that  was,  at  least,  agreeable ;  but  as  a  matron, 
her  features,  never  vivaciously  beautiful  like  Peg 
Woffington's,  or  classically  grand  like  Mrs.  Sid- 
dons's,  were  called  plain.  For  forty  years  Mrs.  Pope 
played  upon  the  stage  of  Drury  Lane,  earning  a  com- 
fortable fortune,  and  never,  in  the  earning  of  it, 
tarnishing  her  good  name  and  fame.  They  told  her 
she  resembled  the  lovely  Lady  Sarah  Lennox  whom 
George  the  Third  worshipped;  but  it  must  have 
been  in  expressiveness  of  features  rather  than  in 
beauty  of  face,  even  though  the  King  himself,  years 
afterwards,  dwelling  with  affection  on  the  thoughts 
of  the  past,  declared  to  his  Queen  in  the  box  of 
Drury  Lane,  "  She  is  like  Lady  Sarah  still." 

A  star  over  all  would  this  well-trained  actress 
have  been  but  for  the  appearance  of  a  sun  in  the 
theatrical  sky.  In  the  glory  of  Mrs.  Siddons,  Mrs. 
Pope's  shining  talents  were  dimmed.  Yet  the  great 
Siddons  could  not  show  her  the  dignified  respect  due 


f  t 


MISS    YOUNGE.     (Mrs.    Pope.) 
Engraved   by    Ridley  from  an   original    by    Mr.    Pope. 


PORTIA.  243 

to  such  a  worthy  player;  but  she  needs  must  write  to 
Dr.  Whalley,  after  the  ceremony  that  made  the  bride 
the  wife,  "  Miss  Younge  is  married  to  Mr.  Pope,  a 
very  boy,  and  the  only  one  she  will  have  by  her 
marriage."  A  second  wife,  far  less  accomplished 
than  the  first,  was  afterwards  to  take  the  place  of 
this  lady  in  the  affections  of  her  youthful  husband. 

Before  Macklin's  day  the  players  on  the  stage 
wore  anything  they  desired,  and  usually  dressed  their 
ancient  characters  all  alike,  in  costumes  of  the  actors' 
own  day.  Macklin,  who  tried  to  reform  nearly 
everything  in  theatrical  matters,  made  some  attempt 
at  bettering  costume,  but  he  does  not  seem  to  have 
had  much  effect  on  his  brother  or  sister  players. 
Mrs.  Pope,  for  instance,  playing  Portia  to  his  Shy- 
lock,  at  that  memorable  last  performance,  wore  the 
regular  wig  and  robes  of  an  English  lawyer,  while 
the  Duke  of  Venice  pictured  in  every  way  an  Eng- 
lish judge ;  the  other  actors  posed  in  street  costumes 
of  the  gentlemen  of  their  times. 

In  the  very  year  that  the  swords  of  the  British 
soldiers  and  the  American  colonists  were  clashing  in 
dread  arbitrament,  and  after  the  Declaration  of 
American  Independence,  Macklin  acted  Shylock  as 
successfully  as  he  had  five  and  thirty  years  before, 
the  Portia  of  that  night  being  none  other  than  his 


244  shakespeaee's  heroines. 

daughter  Maria,  a  somewhat  indifferent,  but  yet  in- 
telligent, actress,  then  acting  the  role  for  the  first 
time.  She  enjoyed  the  trial  scene,  without  doubt ; 
for  it  was  with  her  the  greatest  pleasure  to  imper- 
sonate women  masquerading  as  men.  If  Bernard  is 
to  be  believed,  the  strained  relations  that  for  some 
time  existed  between  father  and  daughter  were  the 
result  of  a  dispute  over  one  of  Portia's  lines.  Obsti- 
nate old  Macklin  maintained  that  the  line  should  be 
read,  "  Mercy  was  mightiest  in  the  mightiest,"  and 
because  Maria  would  persist  in  giving  it,  "  Mercy 
was  mightiest  in  the  mightiest,'"  showed  her  no 
mercy,  but  renounced  her  as  his  daughter. 

Hot  tempers  they  both  must  have  had.  And  yet 
the  father  was  more  kind  than  the  daughter.  He 
spent  twelve  hundred  pounds  to  educate  her  in  the 
fine  arts,  and  taught  her  diligently  the  tricks  of  her 
profession  ;  though,  it  must  be  admitted,  that  Ins 
demanding  pay  and  travelling  expenses  whenever  he 
appeared  at  her  benefits  was  not  indicative  of  re- 
markable generosity,  especially  as  she  had  to  hide 
her  gold  watch  whenever  he  thus  came  to  town,  for 
fear  he  would  insist  upon  having  it.  Yet,  on  the 
other  hand,  this  plain-faced,  but  elegant,  easy-man- 
nered lady,  on  her  death-bed,  the  3d  of  July,  1781, 
when  in  the  forty-eighth  year  of  her  age,  left  all  her 


PORTIA.  245 

wealth,  which  was  not  inconsiderable,  away  from  her 
father.  And  the  tragedy -scarred  veteran,  weighed 
down  by  fourscore  years,  was  then  struggling  against 
ill  fortune. 

Before  Macklin's  day  the  handsome  and  discreet 
Mrs.  Braceo-irdle,  as  well  as  Mrs.  Bradshaw,  the  sue- 
cessor  of  Mrs.  Barry,  and  Mrs.  Hallam,  had  played 
in  that  adaptation  by  George  Granville  which  first 
came  to  the  stage  in  1701.  No  record  exists  of  any 
earlier  Portias.  In  fact,  Shakespeare's  "  Merchant 
of  Venice  "  seems  to  have  been  completely  forgotten 
for  a  number  of  years  after  its  production  in  the 
author's  day,  as  it  did  not  reappear  even  when  the 
theatres  were  opened  after  the  Civil  War. 

This  Mrs.  Bracegirdle,  the  first  Portia  of  whom 
any  trace  can  be  found,  was  the  beautiful  actress 
whose  sparkling  black  eyes  snapped  with  anger  on  a 
certain  night  when,  walking  to  the  theatre,  she  was 
suddenly  seized  by  the  amorous  Captain  Hill,  while 
the  half-dozen  soldiers  he  had  hired  to  help  him 
attacked  the  lady's  escort,  and  the  captain  himself, 
with  a  noble  friend,  Lord  Mohun,  attempted  to  force 
her  into  a  coach  near  by.  It  was  the  plan  of  the 
love-lorn  officer  to  drive  his  lady  to  the  nearest  par- 
son, and  compel  her  to  marry  him ;  but  her  screams 
collected    such    a    crowd    of    sympathizers    that    the 


24(>  shakespeahe's  heroines. 

brave    captain    sulkily   relinquished    his    prey    and 
disappeared. 

The  night  Peg  Woffington  played  Portia  the  au- 
dience had  a  hearty  laugh  at  her  expense.  Though 
graceful  in  gesture  and  animated  in  action.  Peggy 
in  voice  had  such  limited  power  that,  whenever  a 
tragic  speech  was  reached,  and  the  actress  tried  to 
make  it  more  effective  by  vocal  strength,  the  result 
was  disastrous.  So,  when  Lorenzo  exclaimed  that 
night,  k*  This  is  the  voice,  or  I  am  much  deceived,  of 
Portia,"  and  Portia  replied.  "  He  knows  me,  as  the 
blind  man  knows  the  cuckoo,  by  the  bad  voice," 
the  impolite  audience  laughed  heartily  at  this  un- 
intentionally accurate  description.  Peg  was  good- 
humored,  however,  and  joined  merrily  in  the  fun. 
Yet  Woffington  by  her  fine  figure,  elegant  deport- 
ment, and  bubbling  spirits,  energy,  and  archness 
(according  to  the  Dramatic  Censor  of  1770),  was 
accounted  the  best  of  Portias  up  to  that  date. 

We  must  leave  her  now;  leave,  too,  Abington, 
Barry,  and  Yates.  Another  Portia  is  waiting  to 
make  her  bow.  It  is  her  veritable  bow  upon  the 
stage;  and  though  ill  health  has  made  her  incapable 
of  doing  justice  to  the  role  at  this  time,  yet  the 
future  is  to  pronounce  her  the  greatest  actress  of 
the  age  —  perhaps  of  all  ages. 


PORTIA.  247 

The  date  is  December,  four  days  after  Christmas, 
1775,  and  the  scene  the  old  Drury  Lane  Theatre. 
King,  who  goes  down  into  history  as  the  original  Sir 
Peter  Teazle,  is  the  Shylock,  slow  in  action,  but 
gifted  with  a  pleasing  voice  and  with  great  power  of 
vocal  expression.  The  Portia  is  "  a  young  lady, 
her  first  appearance."  Four  days  later  we  look 
upon  the  playbills  again,  and  find  her  identity  re- 
vealed in  the  words,  "Mrs.  Siddons,  her  second 
appearance." 

Alas,  the  temporary  troubles  of  this  matron  of 
but  twenty  years  !  Her  brief  opening  season  in  the 
great  metropolis  proves  a  dismal  failure,  driving  her 
back  again  into  the  provinces  until,  rediscovered, 
she  can  return  to  "  Old  Drury,"  there  to  win  a  fame 
that  will  never  die. 

"  I  was  merely  tolerated,"  she  herself  admits,  re- 
ferring to  that  first  night  in  Portia;  and  inasmuch 
as  Garrick  was  liberally  giving  her,  a  beginner, 
five  pounds  a  week,  while  his  star  actresses,  Mrs. 
Abington  and  Mrs.  Yates,  were  getting  only  ten 
pounds,  he  naturally  would  expect  more  from  her 
than  "toleration." 

See  how  the  critics  of  the  day  viewed  her  :  "  On 
before  us  tottered,  rather  than  walked,  a  very  pretty, 
delicate,  fragile-looking  young  creature,  dressed  in  a 


248  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

most  unbecoming  manner  in  a  faded  salmon-colored 
sack  and  coat,  and  uncertain  whereabouts  to  fix 
either  her  eyes  or  her  feet.  She  spoke  in  a  broken, 
tremulous  tone,  and  at  the  close  of  a  sentence  her 
words  generally  lapsed  into  a  horrid  whisper  that 
was  absolutely  inaudible.  After  her  first  exit  the 
buzzing  comment  went  round  the  pit  generally,  'She 
certainly  is  very  pretty,  but  then  how  awkward;  and 
what  a  shocking  dresser ! ' 

She  improved  in  the  famous  trial  scene,  nearly 
recovering  her  self-control,  and  delivering  the  great 
speech  to  Shylock  with  critical  propriety;  but  her 
voice  was  thin  and  weak,  so  that  a  part  of  the  time 
it  was  lost  to  the  audience. 

And  this  was  the  record  against  an  actress  who, 
as  we  have  seen  in  the  story  of  her  Lady  Macbeth, 
was  destined  to  outstrip  every  player  upon  the 
stage,  and  to  drive  these  same  writers  to  their  wits' 
ends  in  finding  adjectives  enough  to  praise  her.  To 
be  sure,  Parson  Bate  in  his  paper  had  a  good  word 
for  the  debutante;  but  then  he  had  been  instru- 
mental in  getting  her  the  engagement,  having  seen 
her  Rosalind  in  the  provinces.  It  was  worth  while 
having  his  vindictive  pen  softened  in  its  criticisms, 
but  the  actress  had  to  pay  for  his  appreciation  a 
little  later. 


PORTIA.  249 

On  the  production  of  Bate's  play,  "The  Black- 
a-Moor  Whitewashed,"  a  mob  determined  to  con- 
demn it  without  a  hearing,  by  the  amiable  and 
convincing-  method  of  oranges  hurled  at  Garrick, 
and  lighted  candles  flung  at  King.  They  were 
overcome  only  through  the  muscular  logic  of  a  gang 
of  prize-fighters  hired  by  the  Parson,  and,  being 
thus  defeated,  took  their  revenge  the  next  day  by 
declaring  in  the  press,  with  other  abuse  of  Julia, 
the  heroine,  that  "  Mrs.  Siddons,  having  no  comedy 
in  her  nature,  rendered  that  ridiculous  which  the 
author  evidently  intended  to  be  pleasant."  And 
the  poor  lady,  throughout  the  entire  performance, 
had  not  had  a  chance  of  making  herself  heard  above 
the  uproar  in  the  pit ! 

Very  soon  came  her  notice  of  dismissal,  "a  stun- 
ning and  cruel  blow,"  she  wrote  in  her  autobi- 
ography; "it  was  very  near  destroying  me.  My 
blighted  prospects,  indeed,  induced  a  state  of  mind 
that  preyed  upon  my  health,  and  for  a  year  and  a 
half  I  was  supposed  to  be  hastening  to  a  decline." 

A  different  ending  goes  with  the  story  of  her  ap- 
pearance twenty-seven  years  later  (1803),  when  the 
actress,  then  in  her  forty-eighth  year,  could  form 
one  of  a  remarkably  strong  cast,  including  her 
brother  John    Kemble  as  Antonio,   Charles   Kemble 


250  shakespeaee's  heroines. 

as  Bassanio,  and  George  Frederick  Cooke,  one  of 
the  greatest  of  Shylocks,  as  the  Jew.  The  house 
rose  to  the  actors  all.  Horace  Walpole,  to  be  sure, 
never  liked  anything  in  Mrs.  Siddons*s  playing  ex- 
cept her  tragedy,  and.  when  she  named  Portia  as 
the  part  she  would  most  wish  him  to  see  her  act, 
beo-o-ed  to  be  excused.  The  reason  he  gave,  besides 
the  desire  to  see  her  in  a  play  where  her  scorn  could 
be  exerted,  was  that,  with  all  his  enthusiasm  for 
Shakespeare,  he  liked  the  "  Merchant  of  Venice" 
the  least,  regarding  the  story  of  the  caskets  as  silly, 
and  no  character  except  that  of  Shylock  "  beyond 
the  attainment  of  a  mortal." 

Meanwhile,  a  notable  Shylock  has  faced  the  foot- 
lights, the  great  John  Henderson,  who,  in  spite  of 
a  costume  that  was  so  shabby  as  to  raise  the  sus- 
picion of  its  having  been  borrowed  from  a  pawn- 
broker, was  commended  by  old  Macklin  for  the 
spirit  he  threw  into  Shylock,  his  first  character  on 
the  London  stage.  One  of  his  Portias  was  Miss 
Younge,  who  acted  at  Macklin's  pathetic  and  unex- 
pected farewell  ;  another  was  Miss  Farren  (later 
Countess  of  Derby). 

It  was  not  often  that  John  Kemble  had  the  chance 
of  lJavino-  Shylock,  as  that  character,  bv  the  tradi- 
tional  rules  of  the  theatre,  fell  to  King;  and  when 


PORTIA.  251 

lie  did  act  the  rdle,  there  was  little  glory  in  it  for 
him.  His  first  appearance  as  the  Jew,  in  1784, 
was  to  the  Portia  of  his  sister,  Elizabeth  Kemble. 
Originally  apprenticed  by  her  father  to  a  mantua- 
maker  in  Leominster,  this  lady  followed  the  example 
of  the  other  children,  and  took  to  the  theatre,  achiev- 
ing, however,  but  fair  success.  She  married  the 
worthy  actor,  Charles  Whitlock,  and  became  an 
actress  on  the  early  American  stage.  Her  sister 
Frances,  after  a  stage  career,  wedded  Mr.  Twiss  : 
another  sister,  Mrs.  Curtis,  is  known  as  "Anne  (Hat- 
ton)  of  Swansea,"  the  novelist,  and  is  also  notori- 
ous for  her  vicious  character.  Their  fat  brother 
Stephen  tried  Shyluck  in  1813;  but  the  critics  joked 
the  managers  then,  as  at  other  times,  on  their  secur- 
ing the  big  instead  of  the  great  Kemble.  Thus 
John  and  Sarah  were  the  two  to  carry  the  family 
to  real  glory,  allowing  only  a  moderate  share  to 
their  brother  Charles,  to  Charles's  daughter  Fran- 
ces,  and  to  Mrs.  Siddons's  great-granddaughter, 
Mrs.  Scott-Siddons,  of  our  day,  the  last  of  the 
name  upon  the  stage. 

In  passing,  it  may  be  said,  that  the  criticism 
against  Stephen  Kemble  could  never  have  been 
applied  to  William  Farren's  Shylock.  Like  many 
another   comedian,  he  always  had  a  great  desire  to 


252  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

act  tragic  Shylock's  character;  but  his  resemblance 
to  Pharaoh's  lean  kine  was  so  marked,  that  one 
night  when,  as  Shylock,  he  exclaimed :  — 

"  The  pound  of  flesh  that  I  demand  is  mine  ; 
'T  is  dearly  bought ,   and  I  will  have  it,'' 

a  fellow  iii  the  gallery  called  out,  "  Oh,  let  old 
Skinny  have  the  pound  of  flesh;  he  needs  it  bad 
enough  !  " 

Handsome  Mrs.  Glover,  she  of  the  noble  figure  — 
albeit  that  figure  in  later  years  was  destined  to  grow 
too  portly  for  beauty  —  was  one  of  Charles  Young's 
Portias  ;  but  I  doubt  if  the  lady  then  made  such 
a  sensation  as  she  did  that  warm  night  in  June. 
1822,  when  for  her  benefit,  before  an  immense  audi- 
ence, she  essayed  the  role  of  Hamlet.  In  a  stage 
box,  showering  her  with  applause,  sat  a  slight, 
swarthy  man,  with  sharp,  piercing  eyes  and  a  reso- 
nant voice,  exclaiming  at  every  strong  scene,  -w  Ex- 
cellent, excellent;"  until  the  actress,  meeting  him 
behind  the  scenes,  had  to  respond  in  appropriate 
(quotation,  "Away,  you  flatterer!  you  come  in  mock- 
ery to  scorn  and  scoff  at  our  solemnity."  This  was 
a  Shylock  before  whom  the  glory  of  all  Portias 
pale.     It  was  Edmund  Kean. 

"Shylock   or  nothing!''    lie    had   cried,    when  the 


EDMUND    KEAN    AS    SHYLOCK. 
Painted   by  W.  H.  Watt. 


PORTIA.  253 

managers  of  Drury  Lane,  doubting  his  ability  to  act 
the  character,  fain  would  have  him  make  his  bow 
to  London  as  Richard  III. 

And  Shylock  it  was,  on  the  26th  of  January,  1814, 
when  the  enthusiastic  actor,  half-starved  until  that 
day,  trudged  from  Cecil  Street  through  the  slush  of 
a  foggy  night  to  the  theatre,  carrying  in  a  red  hand- 
kerchief his  meagre  costume.  His  wig  was  black, 
and  all  the  actors  shrugged  their  shoulders  at  this 
wanton  departure  from  tradition,  for  hitherto  the 
hair  of  Shylock  had  invariably  been  red;  and  the 
traditions  of  Drury  Lane  were  like  unto  the  laws 
of  the  Medes  and  the  Persians,  —  they  altered  not. 
But  there  were  other  traditions  to  be  broken  that 
night,  as  was  soon  discovered.  The  terrible  energy 
and  magnificent  force  of  this  little  actor,  then  but 

o 

twenty-six  years  of  age,  swept  all  before  him. 

"  The  pit  rose  at  me,  Mary,"  he  cried,  rushing 
home  to  his  poor,  anxious,  poverty-stricken  wife ; 
"you  shall  ride  in  your  carriage  yet.  And  Charles 
—  Charles  shall  go  to  Eton." 

Happy  man.  By  his  own  pluck  and  genius  he 
had  stormed  and  carried  the  citadel  of  fame,  and 
London  was  at  his  feet.  Five  hundred  dollars  was 
the  amount  of  that  Shylock  night.  Three  thousand 
dollars  was  soon  the  treasury  count. 


254  shakespeake's  hekoines. 

But  the  Portia  of  the  evening,  noble  in  face  and 
melodious  in  voice  though  she  was,  did  little  to  help 
immortalize  the  performance.  With  the  other  ladies 
of  the  company  she  sat  in  the  green-room,  smiling 
sarcastically  at  the  idea  of  this  little,  impetuous 
man,  coming  up  to  London  to  try  to  overthrow  the 
idols  of  the  past.  At  that  time  she  was  known  as 
Miss  Smith ;  and,  with  her  nine  years'  experience  on 
the  London  stage,  she  might  well  think  she  could 
smile  at  this  new-comer.  Besides,  was  not  she  his 
senior  by  four  years  ?  Young  Portia,  thirty  years  of 
age  ;  old  Shylock,  twenty-six  —  an  interesting  illus- 
tration of  how  little  actual  age  counts  in  stage  imper- 
sonations. We  find  Miss  Smith  later  as  Mrs.  George 
Bartley,  adding  to  her  fame  on  the  American  stage 
of  an  early  day. 

Pass  we  now  rapidly  on,  for  no  Portias  and  few 
Shylocks  are  great  after  this  time  until  Ellen  Terry 
and  Henrv  Irving  show  the  characters  in  brilliant 
light  upon  the  stage  of  the  Lyceum  Theatre.  Ma- 
cready  was  dissatisfied  with  his  own  acting  of  the 
Jew ;  Charles  Kean  could  imitate  but  could  not  equal 
the  conception  of  his  father ;  and  Phelps,  making  his 
first  appearance  in  London  in  the  role  in  1837,  was 
pronounced  correct,  but  not  striking. 

Helen  Faucit  acted  the  character  well,  to  be  sure, 


POETIA.  255 

and  Isabel  Glvn  and  Laura  Addison  played  Portia 
acceptably  to  Phelps's  Shylock  at  Sadler's  Wells. 
Mrs.  Ogilvie,  on  the  15th  of  May,  1828,  was  the 
Portia  to  Macready's  first  Shylock :  while  Mrs. 
Charles  Young,  two  years  before  her  marriage  to 
the  veteran  actor,  Hermann  Vezin,  had  the  distinc- 
tion of  acting  the  heroine  to  the  Shylock  of  Edwin 
Booth  when  the  distinguished  American  made  his 
London  dSbut  at  the  Hay  market  Theatre,  on  Sept. 
30,  1861.  But  the  curtain  of  Nov.  1,  1879,  is  wait- 
ing to  rise,  and  the  fascinating  Portia  of  Ellen  Terry 
must  be  ushered  in. 

This  performance,  with  Henry  Irving  as  Shylock, 
though  it  marked  the  first  notable  appearance  of 
Miss  Terry  as  the  masquerading  lawyer  of  Padua, 
did  not  mark  her  initial  impersonation  of  the  charac- 
ter. Four  years  before,  she  had  been  praised  for  her 
rare  skill  in  depicting  the  bold  innocence,  lively  wit, 
quick  intelligence,  as  well  as  the  grace  and  elegance 
of  manner,  and  all  the  youth  and  freshness  of  the 
character,  though  her  performance  was  hampered 
then  by  a  poor  supporting  company,  headed  by  the 
tame,  colloquial  Jew  of  Charles  Coghlan. 

Now,  in  1879,  the  spectators  noted  with  delight 
the  general  excellence  of  the  acting ;  and  they  spoke 
with  especial  praise  of  Terry's  assumption  to  Nerissa 


256  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

of  a  bragging  youth's  manner,  and  of  the  play  of 
emotions  that  changed  so  rapidly  from  a  just  and 
overwhelming  wrath  to  a  ladylike  playfulness.  We 
saw  her  in  America,  arrayed  in  the  flowing  gold  cos- 
tume of  the  comedy  scenes,  and  in  the  scarlet  velvet 
of  the  trial  scenes  ;  and  we  applauded  liberally  this 
noble,  yet  at  the  same  time  vivacious  Portia. 

Apropos  of  Miss  Terry's  costume,  it  may  be  men- 
tioned that  when  Fanny  Kemble  played  Portia  she 
wore  for  the  trial  scene  a  learned  doctor's  black 
gown,  with  a  curious  little  authentic  velvet  hat.  As 
she  put  the  hat  upon  her  head,  the  spectators  were 
so  struck  with  its  taking  effect  that  the}'  applauded 
and  applauded  again,  so  vociferously,  indeed,  as  to 
make  the  actress  smile  over  the  sensation  such  a 
little  thing  created.  This  was  at  the  time  when 
accuracy  in  costuming'  was  beginning;  to  attract 
popular  favor. 

With  the  American  stage  the  "Merchant  of  Ven- 
ice" has  an  interesting  connection,  since  it  was  the 
first  play  to  be  performed  in  this  country  by  that 
company  of  players  (HallamV)  which  gave  the  im- 
petus to  the  theatre  on  this  soil.  For  a  long  time 
it  was  held  that  the  "Merchant"  production  at 
Williamsburg,  on  the  5th  of  September,  1752,  was 
the  first  performance  of  any  play  in  America,  except 


ELLEN    TERRY    AS    PORTIA. 
Used    by    Arrangement   with    Window    and    Grove,     London, 


PORTIA.  257 

possibly  by  amateurs  or  strollers  ;  but  patient  inves- 
tigation lias  shown  that  three  years  before  that  time 
Philadelphians  saw  Addison's  "Cato,"  followed  by 
other  plays,  acted  by  professionals. 

The  Williamsburg  production,  however,  was  by 
the  first  theatrical  company  ever  organized  in  Eng- 
land to  play  in  America.  There  was  no  orchestra, 
unless  Mr.  Pelham,  the  music-teacher  of  the  town, 
who  played  the  harpsichord  that  evening,  could  be 
so  designated.  The  Shylock  was  Mr.  Malone,  who 
also  has  the  distinction  of  being  the  first  Lear  on  the 
American  stage.  The  Portia  was  Mrs.  Hallam,  wife 
of  Lewis  Hallam,  the  first  manager  of  this  first  reg- 
ularly organized  American  company,  and  sister-in-law 
of  William  Hallam,  the  first  "  backer  "  of  a  theatrical 
company  in  America.  The  Hallams  had  ventured 
from  England  with  a  troupe  of  players  to  try  their 
fortunes  in  America.  Here,  after  the  death  of  her 
husband,  Mrs.  Hallam  married  Mr.  Douglass,  the  next 
manager  of  the  company,  and  continued  acting  lead- 
ing roles,  with  her  son  as  her  stage  lover  and  the 
hero  of  the  plays.  In  1774,  after  a  record  of  twenty- 
two  years  on  the  American  stage,  she  died  in  Phila- 
delphia from  the  results  of  an  injury  received  in  the 
theatre. 

Not  for  fourteen  years  do  we  again  hear  of  a  per- 


258  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

formance  of  the  "  Merchant ; "  then,  in  Philadel- 
phia, Miss  Cheer  was  the  Portia,  Mrs.  Hallam  having 
gradually  yielded  up  her  great  parts  to  the  younger 
actress.  All  these  players  mentioned  so  far  were 
members  of  the  American  Company,  so  called;  and 
that  organization  was  for  years  without  any  formid- 
able rival  save  the  Virginia  Comedians,  and  the  New 
American  Company  formed  by  actors  from  both  the 
old  companies,  with  recruits  from  over  the  water. 

In  1769,  at  Annapolis.  "  The  Merchant  of  Venice  " 
was  produced  by  the  New  American  Company,  with 
Mrs.  Osborne,  the  heavy  tragedy  actress,  as  the 
heroine.  The  curtain  rang  up  at  six  P.  M.  in  the 
"  new  v  play-house.  Gentlemen  who  desired  to  pay 
but  five  shillings  sat,  perforce,  in  the  pit  or  upper 
boxes  ;  those  who  could  afford  seven  shillings  six- 
pence chose  the  more  fashionable  lower  boxes.  Some 
of  the  cheaper  seats  were  not  easy  of  access,  if  we 
may  judge  by  this  advertisement  in  the  paper  of  the 
day :  "  Upper  boxes  are  now  preparing,  the  passage 
to  which  must  be  from  the  stage  :  it  is  therefore 
hoped  such  ladies  and  gentlemen  as  choose  to  fix  on 
them  seats  will  come  before  the  play  begins,  as  it  is 
not  possible  they  can  be  admitted  after  the  curtain 
is  drawn  up." 

As  for  the  cost  of  going  to  the  theatre  in  the  New 


PORTIA,  259 

York  play-house  at  this  time,  that  ran  lower;  gal- 
lery seats  there  sold  for  two  shillings  each,  pit  seats 
for  four  shillings,  and  the  boxes,  of  which  there  were 
ten,  for  rive  shillings.  These  prices,  however,  might 
be  thought  very  moderate  (whether  they  were  New 
York  shillings  or  sterling  shillings),  compared  with 
the  prices  at  the  Philadelphia  Theatre  in  1780,  when 
fifteen  dollars  was  charged  for  the  admission  of  a 
child,  twenty  dollars  for  a  gallery  seat,  thirty  dollars 
for  admission  to  the  pit,  and  forty  dollars  for  a  box  ; 
did  we  not  recall  that  these  latter  prices  were  in 
Continental  money ! 

In  the  old  company,  in  1772,  Mrs.  Morris  comes  to 
the  character  of  Portia  at  the  Philadelphia  theatre, 
while  Mr.  Hallam  temporarily  steps  down  from  Shy- 
lock  to  Antonio,  giving  the  greater  role  to  that  Mr. 
Henry  whose  matrimonial  escapades  have  been  nar- 
rated in  another  chapter.  Mrs.  Morris  lived  into  the 
second  quarter  of  the  present  century,  surviving-  all 
the  players  who  were  on  the  American  stage  before 
the  Revolution.  To  her  death  she  was  the  stately, 
old-fashioned  lady,  affecting  all  the  styles  of  the  last 
century,  including  the  short-waisted,  long-trained 
gowns,  the  full  head-dress,  and  the  Avhite  neck- 
cravat. 

When  Shakespeare  played  Launcelot,  Mrs.   Ryan 


260  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

was  the  Portia.  This  was  in  Baltimore,  in  1782,  and 
Mr.  Shakespeare  was  an  amateur  of  magnificent 
name,  but  a  now  lost  record.  Mrs.  Ryan,  coming 
from  Ireland  with  her  husband,  had  just  made  her 
debut  in  this  country,  and  here  was  to  achieve  no 
further  fame  than  that  of  being  the  original  Lady 
Teazle  of  America. 

The  last  record  of  Mr.  Henry's  appearance  as  Shy- 
lock  was  in  1793,  when  his  wife  played  Portia.  A 
year  later  the  curtain  had  fallen  forever  on  his 
earthly  career,  and  Mrs.  Henry,  never  recovering 
from  the  shock,  on  the  28th  of  April,  1795,  died,  a 
raving  maniac,  at  her  home  in  the  rear  of  the  Phila- 
delphia theatre. 

A  Philadelphia  Portia  of  this  same  season  of  1793- 
1794  conies  of  a  noted  family,  being  no  other  than 
Mrs.  Eliza  Whitlock,  the  sister  of  Mrs.  Siddons  and 
of  the  Kembles.  In  England,  at  the  age  of  twenty- 
two,  she  had  made  her  London  debut  as  the  heroine 
of  the  "Merchant"  on  the  22d  of  February,  1783; 
and  though  somewhat  masculine  in  face  and  figure, 
yet  displayed  so  animated  a  countenance  and  so  grace- 
ful a  bearing  as  to  win  a  moderate  degree  of  favor. 
A  few  years  after  coming  to  this  land,  she  enjoyed  the 
distinction  of  playing  the  first  "star"  engagement 
on  the  American  stage,  being  engaged,  for  four  hun- 


PORTIA.  261 

dred  and  fifty  dollars  and  a  benefit,  to  play  at  the 
Boston  Theatre  in  October,  1796.  There  she  re- 
peated her  Portia,  contending  with  the  remembrance 
of  Mrs.  Powell's  impersonation  of  a  previous  season. 
She  also  had  the  honor  of  playing  before  George 
Washington  in  Philadelphia. 

A  glance  now  at  that  first  Boston  production  of 
the  play  at  the  Federal  Street  Theatre,  in  its  second 
season.  On  June  17,  1795,  "The  Merchant  of  Ven- 
ice" was  given  for  the  benefit  of  Mr.  Hip  worth,  a 
new  recruit  to  the  company,  and  the  Shylock  of 
the  cast.  Portia  fell  to  the  bride  of  the  manager's 
brother,  Mrs.  Snelling  Powell.  The  year  before  this 
performance  Miss  Elizabeth  Harrison,  at  the  age 
of  twenty,  had  come  from  England  to  play  before 
the  Boston  audiences.  In  her  native  land  she  had 
played  second  to  Mrs.  Siddons,  and,  by  command,  had 
appeared  before  George  the  Third.  Here,  after  her 
marriage,  she  attained  high  rank  as  a  Shakespearian 
actress.  And  yet  the  salary  that  fell  to  her  was  less 
than  ordinary  players  receive  to-day.  Forty-two  dol- 
lars a  week,  for  each  player,  were  paid  to  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Snelling  Powell  and  Miss  Harrison,  sister  of 
Mrs.  Powell,  by  Manager  Hodgkinson  at  the  Hay- 
market  Theatre  in  1797.  the  highest  salary  of  the 
company  being  fifty  dollars. 


262  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

The  second  Portia  of  Boston  was  Mrs.  Giles  Leon- 
ard Barrett,  who  played  the  role  to  her  husband's 
Shylock  at  the  Haymarket  Theatre.  In  England, 
where  she  was  formerly  known  as  Mrs.  Belfield, 
she  had  made  her  de*but  as  a  pupil  of  old  Macklin, 
playing  Portia  to  his  Shylock.  Barrett,  deserting 
his  first  wife,  the  daughter  of  an  alderman  of  Nor- 
wich, came  to  America  with  our  heroine  to  join 
the  original  company  at  the  new  theatre  that  was 
opened,  in  179(5,  in  Boston,  at  the  corner  of  Tre- 
mont  and  Boylston  Streets,  close  by  the  farmers' 
haymarket,  from  which  it  derived  its  name.  On 
the  2d  of  January,  1797,  the  actress  made  her  Amer- 
ican debut,  and  on  the  27th  of  the  same  month  acted 
Portia.  Thirty-five  years  later  Mrs.  Barrett  died  in 
the  same  city. 

In  1796  Charleston  had  seen  a  Mrs.  Henderson 
in  the  character,  and  with  her  name  the  list  of 
Portias  in  America,  up  to  the  present  century,  is 
completed. 

Of  our  later  actresses  Mrs.  Duff  played  Portia 
but  little.  Charlotte  Cushman,  though  admirable 
in  the  trial  scene  and  other  declamatory  portions. 
was  otherwise  not  great  in  the  role.  Forrest  early 
discarded  Shylock ;  but  James  W.  Wallack  the 
elder,  Brooke,  Davenport,  J.  W.  Wallack.  J]-..  Ed- 


poiitia.  2(33 

win  Booth,  and  Lawrence  Barrett  have  acted  the 
character.  Their  supports  included  good  actresses 
as  Portia.  Mrs.  Hoey  was  with  the  elder  Wallack 
when  the  "Merchant"  had  a  run  of  thirty-three 
nights,  the  longest  Shakespearian  success  chronicled 
up  to  that  time ;  Mrs.  Barrow  played  Portia  with 
captivating  grace  :  Mine.  Ponisi  and  Mrs.  Mowatt 
won  honors  in  the  character. 

The  last  Portia  of  all,  Mme.  Modjeska,  with  her 
ever  young  face  surmounted  by  a  wealth  of  short 
but  not  close-cut  wavy  hair  of  golden  brown,  made 
an  enticing  figure  for  the  love  scenes  of  the  play 
when  she  acted  the  part  for  the  first  time  in  Amer- 
ica, in  1889,  on  the  occasion  of  her  professional 
union  with  Edwin  Booth.  That  her  impersonation 
made  no  marked  impression  is  certain,  but  yet  in 
the  comedy  elements  it  had  attractive  qualities. 
The  trial  scene  illustrated  well  her  plan  of  refin- 
ing nature.  Clad  in  a  cloak  of  black,  that  only 
in  part  concealed  the  youth's  suit  of  jet  beneath, 
Portia,  resting  her  hand  on  the  shoulder  of  the  Jew, 
delivered  the  great  mercy  plea,  not  as  an  essay 
for  the  audience,  or  as  an  oration  for  the  court 
to  hear,  but  as  a  soft,  touching  request,  uttered 
in  a  thoughtful  and  appealing  tone  to  Shylock 
himself. 


264  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

Our  Portias,  for  the  most  part,  have  proved  either 
ordinary  in  the  role,  and  thus  best  to  be  forgotten  ; 
or,  having  extraordinary  abilities,  have  left  the  part 
in  order  to  take  up  characters  that  gave  more 
opportunity  for  acquiring  fame. 


KATHARINA. 
(The  Taming  of  the  Shbew.  ) 


One  night  when  Edwin  Booth,  in  "  Catherine  and 
Petruchio,"  was  playing  the  all-conquering  husband 
to  the  shrew  of  Jean  Hosmer,  he  threw  the  audience 
into  a  paroxysm  of  laughter,  and  the  actress  into  em- 
barrassed perplexity,  by  turning  the  lady's  fair  face 
into  a  zebra  countenance,  with  alternate  black  and 
white  stripes.  This  he  did  by  having  secretly  laid 
heavy  lamp-black  over  his  mustache  before  he  fer- 
vently kissed  his  unsuspecting  theatrical  wife  in  the 
scene  upon  the  stage. 

Apparently  it  was  a  stock  joke  in  former  days  ;  for 
I  find  that  John  Wilkes  Booth  played  the  same  trick 
on  Josephine  Orton,  and  that  other  actors  did  not 
hesitate  thus  to  increase  the  applause. 

But  "  Catherine  and  Petruchio  "  is  not  "  The  Tam- 
ing of  the  Shrew,"  although  the  Garriek  farce  may 
boast  the  dubious  glory  of  having  usurped  the  place 
of   the   Shakespearian   comedy.     Twice   only   in    the 

2G5 


266  shakespeake's  heroines. 

records  of  the  English  stage,  and  once  only  in  Amer- 
ican annals,  do  we  find  the  original  work  presented 
in  its  entirety. 

Nearly  a  century  and  a  half  ago,  Garrick  set  aside 
the  clumsy  Lacy  adaptation  called  kt  Sawney  the  Scot; 
or,-  The  Taming  of  a  Shrew,"  in  which  Margaret,  as 
our  heroine  was  then  called,  was  subdued  only  by 
attempts  on  the  part  of  her  husband  to  bury  her 
alive;  and  Garrick  also  cast  away  both  Bullock's 
and  Johnson's  farces  bearing  the  same  name,  "  The 
Cobbler  of  Preston."  In  their  stead  he  gave  an 
abridgment  of  Shakespeare's  work,  making  it  simply 
a  three-act  farcical  afterpiece.  Several  scenes,  in- 
cluding the  Induction  and  the  love  episodes  of  Hor- 
tensio  and  Bianca,  were  omitted  entirely,  and  other 
scenes  were  transposed. 

On  the  18th  of  March,  1754,  Davy  brought  out  his 
version  at  Drury  Lane,  with  awkward  Mrs.  Pritchard 
as  Catherine,  and  graceful  Woodward  as  an  extrava- 
gant, fantastical  Petruchio,  while  the  famous  harle- 
quin Yates  acted  Grumio.  Poor  Yorick  !  One  day, 
when  Y'ates  was  in  his  ninety -seventh  year,  he  fell 
into  such  a  furious  passion  because  his  housekeeper 
failed  to  have  his  favorite  dish  of  eels  for  breakfast, 
that  he  dropped  dead  in  his  room. 

Then  came  saucy-tongued  Kitty  Olive,  undoubtedly 


KATHABINA.  267 

delighting  in  the  fiery  snappishness  of  her  character. 
She  showed  the  spectators  a  very  realistic  bit  of  act- 
ing one  night,  when  the  vengeful  Woodward,  seeking 
to  pay  off  an  old-time  grudge  on  spiteful  Kitty,  thrust 
his  fork  into  Catherine's  finger,  as  they  sat  quarrel- 
ling in  the  supper  scene,  and  then,  in  pushing  her 
off  the  stage  according  to  the  directions,  exceeded 
those  directions  by  throwing  her  down  in  earnest 
on  the  floor.  Up  rose  the  hot-tempered  actress,  now 
thoroughly  enraged,  and  with  talons  and  tongue  gave 
the  reckless  Petruchio  a  genuine  taste  of  what  a 
shrew  could  do  when  treated  brutally. 

Ever  since  Garrick's  day,  actors  who  have  aimed  at 
displaying  versatility  have  presented  the  light  after- 
piece as  a  contrast  to  the  tragic  drama  with  Avhich 
they  opened  the  bill.  That  actresses,  too,  have  not 
scorned  to  show  their  skill  at  varied  impersonations 
was  illustrated  in  1757,  when  eloquent  Mrs.  Fitz- 
henry  (or,  as  she  was  sometimes  known,  Mrs.  Greg- 
ory) first  passed  through  the  agonies  of  a  Lady 
Macbeth,  and  then,  in  the  same  evening,  fumed  and 
fretted  as  Catherine  in  the  afterpiece. 

Seventeen  years  later  the  droll  Mrs.  Hippesley- 
Green,  of  whom  we  have  heard  as  Hermione,  was 
a  Catherine  to  lively  Lewis's  Petruchio  ;  and  then 
came  Mrs.  Crawford  (formerly  Mrs.  Spranger  Barry), 


268  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

trying  in  vain  to  lift  her  worthless  ex-lawyer  hus- 
band, the  last  in  her  threefold  list,  into  prominence 
as  a  Petruchio. 

Stately  Mrs.  Siddons  acted  in  the  farce  with  spirit, 
but,  as  might  be  expected,  without  seeming  at  home 
in  the  character.  Boaden  thought  the  little  piece 
well  enough  played  "if  you  could  get  over  the  con- 
viction that  such  a  physiognomy  as  that  of  the  ac- 
tress never  could  belong  to  a  termagant.  Of  a 
petulant,  spoiled  girl  the  transformation  might  be 
expected.  The  incidents  are  farcical,  and  the  whip 
and  the  crockery  make  noise  enough  for  the  joke's 
sake,  but  there  never  could  be  an  atom  of  farce  in 
Mrs.  Siddons." 

John  Kemble  was  the  Petruchio  not  only  to  his 
great  sister,  but  also  to  his  lesser  sister-in-law,  the 
black-eyed  enchantress,  Mrs.  Charles  Kemble  (nSe 
Decamp). 

We  know  of  the  "  big  Mr.  Kemble "  (Stephen), 
who  could  play  Falstaff  without  stuffing,  but  his 
wife,  another  heroine  of  the  farce,  was  of  a  different 
build  from  her  husband.  She  was  pretty,  even  if 
not  lovely,  had  a  musical,  silvery  voice,  and  was 
possessed  of  talent.  In  Katharina,  said  a  writer  in 
Blackwood's  Magazine  sixty  years  ago,  "  We  have 
more  than  once  been  delighted  to  see  her  play  the 


KATHARINA.  269 

devil ;  to  her  it  was  not  every  man,  we  can  assure 
you,  that  was  able  to  be  a  Petruchio."  This  latter 
statement  may  well  be  believed  when  one  recollects 
that  on  a  certain  night,  while  uttering  the  sweetly 
maternal  words  of  Lady  Randolph,  "  My  beautiful, 
my  brave,"  as  she  bent  over  young  Norval,  she  de- 
liberately, out  of  pure  spite,  proceeded  to  nip  a  piece 
out  of  her  fellow-actor's  shoulder  with  her  own 
sharp,  white  teeth. 

In  1828  kw  The  Taming  of  the  Shrew  "  had  some  of 
its  stolen  text  restored;  but  as  there  were  added 
songs  and  musical  accompaniments  enough  to  make 
the  production  operatic,  the  four  performances  it 
received  were  undoubtedly  all  that  the  mixed-up 
version  deserved.  To  the  Petruchio  of  Wallack 
there  appeared  as  Catherine,  in  this  May  perform- 
ance, the  young  lady  whose  songs  had  but  recently 
won  applause  at  the  Italian  Opera  House,  Miss 
Fanny  Ayrton. 

A  half-century  ago  Benjamin  Webster,  managing 
the  Haymarket  Theatre  in  London,  thought  to  catch 
the  public  eye  with  the  first  production,  since  Shake- 
speare's day,  of  the  entire  original  play.  He  even 
went  farther  than  a  mere  reproduction  of  text.  The 
method  of  the  old  Blackfriars'  Theatre  was  adopted 
by  making  one  scene  do  duty  for  every  act,  and  that 


270  shakespeaee's  heroines. 

scene  showing  simply  a  wall  hung'  with  tapestry. 
At  the  intervals  in  the  play  a  servant  would  enter  to 
fasten  upon  the  screens  the  placards,  labelled  in  turn. 
"  A  Bedchamber  in  the  London  House,"  "  A  Room 
in  Baptista's  House,"  and  -Padua;  a  Public  Place." 
Charming  Mrs.  Nisbett  has  the  honor  of  going  upon 
record  as  the  first  Kate  the  Curst  of  whom  the 
world  can  ever  know;  while  the  Petruchio  in  this 
1844  production  was  Webster;  the  Gruniio  was  wag- 
gish John  Baldwin  Buckstone. 

Characters  full  of  animal  spirits  were  always  Mrs. 
Nisbett's  favorites,  as  sprightliness  in  action  and  ex- 
hilaration in  humor  came  to  her  naturally.  In  her 
time  she  was  almost  as  great  a  favorite  as  Mine.  Ves- 
tris,  and  to  the  mind  of  the  late  Westland  Marston, 
the  noted  playwright,  was  on  the  whole  a  finer  ac- 
tress, possessing  keener  perception  of  character  and 
consistency,  and  displaying  more  naturalness  than 
the  Olympic  player.  "Her  forehead,"  said  Mars- 
ton,  -  though  rather  low,  was  wide ;  her  eyes  brilliant 
and  expressive  ;  the  oval  of  her  face  was  relieved 
and  thrown  out  by  a  waving  wreath  of  dark  hair. 
Her  neck  was  long  and  stately,  her  form  lithe  and 
elastic,  and  her  stature  tall.  She  had  even  more  ani- 
mation than  Vestris,  but  not  the  insinuating-  lano-uor 
with  which  the  latter  sometimes  contrasted  it.     Mrs. 


KAPHA  KIN  A.  27  1 

Nisbett  had  a  laugh  which  swept  away  and  charmed 
one  by  its  freshness  and  fulness,  by  its  music,  and 
by  its  union  of  refinement  with  abandon." 

The  story  is  told  that,  in  the  Haymarket  produc- 
tion, the  part  of  Christopher  Sly,  the  cozened  tinker 
of  the  Induction,  was  offered  to  Strickland,  a  great 
favorite  in  those  days  with  the  pit,  and  that  he  ac- 
cepted it  on  condition  of  having  his  hot  drinks,  dur- 
ing the  performance,  real  brandy-and-water.  But 
so  often  did  he  have  his  glass  filled  that  the  horrified 
manager  found  the  bill  for  brandy  for  a  single  even- 
ing amounting  to  eleven  shillings  sixpence,  and 
worse  than  that,  found  Strickland  in  such  a  speech- 
less state  of  drunkenness  when  "  The  Shrew "'  was 
over  that  he  could  not  possibly  appear  in  the  after- 
piece for  which  he  was  cast.  In  fact,  Sly's  brandy- 
and-water  killed  poor  Strickland;  for  he  rolled  home 
one  night  after  the  play,  then  rolled  out  of  bed  with 
his  head  downward,  and  was  found  the  next  morning 
dead,  the  result  of  apoplexy. 

In  Webster's  production  the  tinker  was  on  the 
stage  through  the  entire  five  acts,  watching  the 
mimic  play.  The  custom  in  Shakespeare's  day.  when 
a  play  was  acted  within  a  play,  as  in  this  case,  was 
to  erect  at  the  rear  of  the  stage  a  gallery  whence  the 
supposed  spectators  could  watch  the  mimic  actors  on 


272  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

the  stage  below  them,  thus  not  impeding  the  view  of 
the  real  audience. 

Samuel  Phelps,  at  Sadler's  Wells,  on  the  15th  of 
November,  1856,  contrasted  his  production  of  the 
entire  comedy  with  Webster's  revival  by  giving 
"The  Shrew'"  a  liberal  equipment  of  scenery  and 
costumes.  The  manager  himself  had  several  times 
played  Petruchio  in  the  Garrick  farce  ;  but  for  this 
great  performance,  —  making  the  twenty-ninth  Shake- 
speare play  revived  by  the  conscientious  student,  at 
the  renovated  East  End  theatre,  —  he  relinquished 
the  leading  role  to  Marston,  and  himself  played 
Christopher  Sly.  Yes,  the  actor  who  had  imperson- 
ated Hamlet  and  Brutus  and  kindred  parts,  for  the 
sake  of  his  art  essayed  now  the  role  of  the  drunken 
boor.  As  Prof.  Henry  Morley  points  out,  he  did  it 
admirably,  by  giving  to  the  face  of  the  tinker  an 
utter  lack  of  intelligence,  and  by  imbuing  him  simply 
with  an  animal  nature. 

To  the  manly,  humorous  Petruchio  of  Marston 
appeared  a  shrew  depicted  by  Miss  Atkinson  with 
great  force,  though  perhaps  somewhat  in  excess. 
Her  gradual  submission  and  final  speech  were  grace- 
fully and  admirably  rendered.  This  lady  was  the 
last  of  the  leaders  in  the  famous  Sadler's  Wells 
casts.     Three  years  before  the  production  of   "The 


KATHA1UNA.  '273 

Taming  of  the  Shrew,""  Phelps  had  opened  his 
season  without  a  heavy  tragedy  lady,  being  unable 
to  find  a  player  to  suit  him.  As  he  wanted  to  pro- 
duce several  tragedies  in  which  such  an  actress  was 
indispensable,  the  manager  was  in  a  quandary  until 
he  heard  from  his  prompter  of  a  certain  Dublin 
actress  who,  though  young,  had  a  fine  figure  for  the 
stage,  and  was  full  of  talent.  On  the  strength  of 
this  report  Phelps  engaged  Miss  Atkinson,  and  set 
down  the  Queen  in  "  Hamlet "  for  her  opening  role. 
"  She  was  very  like  her  predecessor,  Miss  Glyn," 
writes  Mr.  Frederic  Robinson,  formerly  her  associate 
at  Sadler's  Wells,  but  now  an  actor  of  America,  an- 
swering the  inquiries  of  the  writer  regarding  this 
actress,  of  whom  the  printed  records  say  so  little, 
"  but  she  had  a  smaller  nose  and  a  more  massive 
chin.  She  was  entirely  without  education,  but  was 
very  apt  and  made  great  progress."'  In  one  respect 
she  must  have  resembled  our  famous  friend  Mrs. 
Pritchard,  whom  Dr.  Johnson  so  vigorously  scolded, 
inasmuch  as  she  often  had  to  seek  out  Mr.  Robinson, 
before  playing  a  part,  in  older  to  correct  her  or- 
thoepical  defects.  But,  as  he  says,  she  very  seldom 
had  to  be  told  anything  more  than  once.  After  a 
year  or  two  under  Phelps's  tutelage  she  became 
very  successful   in  the  heavy  Shakespearian  charac- 


274  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

ters,  playing  nearly  all  of  them  at  Sadler's  Wells 
for  the  first  time  in  her  career.  "  She  was  the  best 
Emilia  in  '  Othello  '  that  I  ever  saw,"  says  Mr. 
Robinson,  "  and  made  quite  a  hit  in  the  part,  in 
1859,  at  the  Friedrich  Wilhelmstadt  Theatre,  in 
Berlin  ;  ''  to  which  may  be  added  that  the  Berlin 
papers  also  highly  praised  Mr.  Robinson's  Iago. 
Miss  Atkinson  remained  with  Phelps  until  he  gave 
up  Sadler's  Wells. 

A  word  to  record  the  appearances  of  Helen  Faucit 
and  of  Ellen  Tree  in  the  Garrick  farce,  and  a  men- 
tion of  the  fact  that  Ellen  Terry  marked  her  first 
appearance  with  Henry  Irving  by  playing  Kathariiia 
to  his  Petruchio  —  then  we  leave  the  English  stage. 

Here  in  America,  the  beginning  —  and,  so  far.  the 
end  —  of  the  history  of  "  The  Taming  of  the  Shrew  v 
dates  with  Mr.  Augustin  Daly's  revival  of  the  com- 
edy, first  seen  at  Daly's  Theatre,  New  York,  on  the 
18th  of  January,  1887.  Marie  Seebach,  to  be  sure, 
appeared  in  a  German  four-act  version,  without  the 
Induction,  given  in  America  in  187<>.  under  the  title 
of  "  Die  Widerspenstige  ;  "  but  all  else  is  the  history 
of  the  farce  "Catherine  and  Petruchio." 

The  first  Kathariiia  of  America  was  Miss  Cheer. 
It  was  rather  curious  that  this  lady,  destined  to  be- 
come the  leading  actress  of   her  day,    should  have 


KATHARINA.  275 

chosen  ;i  farce  in  which  to  make  her  dSbut  in  the 
Colonies,  but  such  was  the  case.  On  the  opening 
night,  Nov.  21,  1766,  of  the  first  permanent  play- 
house in  America,  the  ugly  brick  Southwark  Theatre 
of  Philadelphia,  our  rival  of  Mrs.  Douglass  played 
Kate,  in  the  afterpiece,  to  the  Petruchio  of  Hallam  ; 
the  chief  play  of  the  evening  being  "Douglas,"  with 
Mrs.  Douglass  as  Lady  Randolph. 

Strangely  enough,  an  interesting  romance  in  the 
life  of  this  Miss  Cheer  lay  buried  for  years,  until 
the  indefatigable  George  O.  Seilhamer,  in  his  re- 
searches into  the  history  of  the  American  theatre 
before  the  Revolution,  discovered  from  a  chance  bit 
of  newspaper  record  what  may  be  a  solution  of  her 
hitherto  unexplained  retirement  from  the  stage. 

In  the  year  1768  a  handsome  young  lord,  the  son 
and  heir  of  the  sixth  Earl  of  Northesk,  was  in  Phila- 
delphia, enjoying  the  social  honors  of  the  best  society. 
A  regular  auditor  at  the  Southwark  Theatre,  like 
many  another  youth  of  his  day.  he  fell  in  love  with 
the  dashing  Katharina  of  the  stage,  and.  either  with 
or  without  the  consent  of  the  father,  a  doughty  ad- 
miral  of  the  British  navy  as  well  as  a  peer,  wedded 
the  pla}Ter.  "Last  week  was  married  in  Maryland, 
the  Rio-ht  Honourable  Lord  Rosehill  to  Miss  Mar- 
garet   Cheer,   a    young  lady   much   admired   for  her 


276  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

theatrical  performances."  So  reads  the  record  in 
the  Pennsylvania  Chronicle  of  Aug.  28,  1768.  The 
groom  was  then  but  nineteen  years  old:  the  bride 
was  several  years  his  senior. 

Here  ends  the  story.  The  complications  of  the 
future  are  a  mystery.  In  Burke's  "  Peerage  "  it  is 
stated  that  Lord  Rosehill  married  Catherine  Cameron 
in  1768 ;  therefore  Cameron  was  the  real  name  of 
our  heroine.  Her  husband  died,  without  issue,  just 
twenty  years  after  the  marriage  and  while  his  father 
was  still  living,  so  Lady  Rosehill  missed  the  coronet 
of  a  countess.  For  a  few  months  after  the  marriage 
she  continued  on  the  stage,  and  then  disappeared 
from  sight,  only  to  return  after  the  Revolution  for 
a  single  unapplauded  performance.  ( hi  this  latter 
occasion  she  was  billed  as  Mrs.  Long.  Of  the  cause 
of  the  change  of  name,  or  the  episodes  of  her  life 
between  her  two  stage  careers,  we  know  practically 
nothing.  It  is,  indeed,  possible  that  Lady  Rosehill 
did  not  go  to  England  on  account  of  an  earlier 
scandal,  rumor  having  it  that  she  had  previously 
eloped  with  her  father's  coachman. 

But  whatever  her  history,  Margaret  Cheer  was 
certainly  possessed  of  education  and  culture,  and 
was  blessed  with  industrious  habits.  The  latter 
characteristic  is  apparent  when  we  count  the  num- 


KATHAIMNA.  2 


Zi  i 


ber  of  characters  she  played  on  the  American  stage 
during  her  short  experience  as  a  leading  lady — ex- 
actly fifty,  including"  Juliet,  Ophelia,  Lady  Con- 
stance, Cordelia,  Cleopatra,  Imogen,  Hermione,  Lady 
Macbeth,  Portia,  Desdemona,  Queen  Elizabeth,  Lady 
Anne,  and  Katharina  the  Shrew.  That  she  could 
win  the  affection  of  her  associates  was  shown  by 
the  legacy  from  Mrs.  Harman,  whose  Ophelia,  the 
first  on  the  American  stage,  is  recorded  in  another 
chapter. 

But  we  must  return  to  our  Katharinas. 

Mrs.  Walker  and  Mr.  Verlingf  in  1769;  Mrs. 
Morris  and  Mr.  Goodman  in  1773;  Mrs.  Ryan  and 
Mr.  Ryan  in  1783;  Mrs.  Allen  and  Mr.  Ilallam 
(and  later  Mr.  Allen),  Mrs.  Kidd  and  Mr.  Godwin, 
in  1785;  Mrs.  Rankin  and  Mr.  Harper  in  1792; 
Mrs.  Long  and  Mr.  Ilodgkinson,  Mrs.  Wilson  and 
Mr.  Martin,  Mrs.  Morris  and  Mr.  Chalmers,  in  1794; 
Mrs.  Rowson  (and  later,  Mrs.  Francis)  and  Mi'. 
Chalmers  in  1796  ;  Mrs.  Snelling  Powell  and  Mr. 
Hipworth  (the  first  Shrew  and  the  first  Petruchio 
in  Boston)  in  1795  ;  Mrs.  Hogg  and  an  unrecorded 
actor,  Mrs.  Johnson  and  Mr.  Ilodgkinson,  in  1796  — 
this  makes  a  complete  record,  so  far  as  it  is  obtain- 
able from  all  sources,  of  the  Katharinas  and  Petru- 
chios  on  our  stage  up  to  1800. 


278  shakespeabe's  heroines. 

Among  other  impersonators  of  the  two  characters 
in  the  farce  have  been  :  Mrs.  Mason  and  Cooper  in 
1814  ;  Mrs.  Duff  as  Katharina  in  1822  ;  Mrs.  Dai-ley 
and  Macready  in  1827  :  Fanny  Kemble  and  Charles 
Kemble,  at  the  Park  Theatre  entertainment  in  New 
York  in  honor  of  John  Howard  Payne,  the  author 
of  "  Home,  Sweet  Home,"  on  the  occasion  of  his 
return.,  to  his  n*ative  land,  Nov.  29,  1832;  Mrs. 
Charles  Kean  as  Katharina  in  1886 :  Mrs.  Sharpe 
and  W.  B.  Wood  in  1839;  Miss  Vandenhoff  and  her 
father  in  1839:  Mrs.  Mowatt  as  Katharina  in  1845; 
Airs.  James  Wallack,  Jr.,  and  Hamblin,  Mrs.  Hoey 
and  Couldock  (both  of  whom  are  now  living),  in 
1850;  Laura  Addison  and  Hamblin  at  Niblo's  Gar- 
den, New  York,  in  an  entertainment  that  included, 
among  other  attractions,  the  appearance  of  Adelina 
Patti,  then  eight  years  of  age,  on  Dec.  3,  1851 ;  Ada 
Clifton  and  Edwin  Booth  in  1862. 

Then  came  Fanny  Davenport  to  the  Petruchio  of 
Edwin  Booth,  Clara  Morris  to  the  Petruchio  of  Louis 
James,  Agnes  Booth  to  the  Petruchio  of  Mr.  Whee- 
lock,  and  —  but  it  is  useless  to  record  the  list  further. 
These  were  all  participants  in  the  productions  of  the 
farce.  The  true  Shakesperian  Katharina  has  ap- 
peared but  once;  she  was  Ada  Rehan,  the  fiery 
Shrew    of    the    Daly    production.        Miss     Rehan's 


Used   by   Courtesy  of    Augustin  Daly. 


KATHAKINA.  279 

haughty  bearing,  sharp  action,  and  quick,  nervous 
gesture  ;  her  compressed  lips  and  piercing  glances,  - 
all  befitted  the  role,  while  her  interpretation  of  the 
character  was  as  graceful  as  it  was  vigorous.  The 
change  of  spirit,  during  the  taming  and  after,  was 
manifested  in  such  natural  manner  as  to  make  one 
easily  imagine  the  submission  actually  carried  out, 
without  too  great  a  contradiction  of  characteristics. 
Mr.  Daly  approached  the  work  in  rightful  spirit. 
The  length  of  the  piece,  including  the  Induction, 
necessitated  some  cutting:  but  this  was  done  care- 
fully and  without  impairing,  to  any  grievous  extent, 
the  sequence  of  incidents  retained.  The  original 
text  called  for  revision  in  parts  where  touches  of 
coarseness  that  might  have  been  tolerated  in  a  past 
ao-c  are  now  to  be  condemned  :  but  the  Induction, 
as  was  intimated,  was  given  practically  complete. 
The  chief  portion  of  the  play,  the  true  "Taming  of 
the  Shrew,"  as  supposedly  acted  before  the  pseudo- 
noblemen,  was  presented  by  Mr.  Daly's  company 
with  all  the  secondary  as  well  as  primary  plots  de- 
tailed. The  artifices  of  the  rival  lovers  for  Bianca's 
hand,  the  rather  unfilial  act  of  Lucentio  in  assenting 
to  the  scheme  of  the  old  pedant  usurping  the  place 
of  the  absent  father,  and  the  final  test  of  submission 
of  the  three  wives,  were  presented,  in  addition  to  the 


280  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

scenes  that  embrace  the  truly  Shakesperian  manoeu- 
vres of  Petruchio,  Katharina  and  the  serving-man 
Grumio.  The  chief  situations  of  the  latter  trio,  the 
scenes  wherein  the  taming  of  Katharina  is  made  com- 
plete, were  put  into  one  scene  in  the  Daly  arrange- 
ment. 

So  unique  was  this  performance  that  a  mention  of 
all  the  principals  in  the  cast  will  not  be  amiss. 
There  was  John  Drew,  rightfully  conceiving  the 
character  of  Petruchio,  in  that  he  preserved  at  all 
times  behind  the  assumed  roughness  the  signs  of 
admiration  for  the  woman  and  of  genuine  pleasure  in 
the  pointed  joke  that  he  was  so  successfully  play- 
ing. There,  too,  were  James  Lewis,  comical  and 
quaint  as  Grumio,  and  Mrs.  G.  H.  Gilbert,  cleverly 
acting  Curtis.  Charles  Fisher  read  the  lines  of  Bap- 
tista  in  such  a  way  as  to  bring  out  with  fidelity  the 
true  meaning  at  all  times;  while  Otis  Skinner  as 
Lucentio,  Joseph  Holland  as  Hortensio,  Charles  Le 
Clerq  as  Gremio,  were  well  in  keeping  with  their 
characters.  Frederick  Bond  presented  a  merry- 
hearted,  bright  Tranio  ;  Miss  Virginia  Dreher  gave, 
by  her  personality,  an  attractive  picture  of  Bianca, 
the  sweet  sister  of  the  Shrew.  In  the  Induction 
William  Gilbert's  delineation  of  perplexity  in  the 
bed-chamber,    and    his   subsequent    vain-glorious    as- 


KATHARINA.  281 

sumption  of  lordship,  made  Christopher  Sly  pro- 
ductive of  humorous  enjoyment  to  the  audience, 
although  the  impersonation  too  often  bordered  on 
the  edge  of  caricature. 

Mr.  Daly  lias  several  times  repeated  "The  Taming 
of  the  Shrew  "  in  New  York  and  in  other  cities  of 
this  country,  and  lias  also  presented  the  play  in  Lon- 
don; but  no  new  Katharina  has  yet  appeared  to 
contest  the  honors   with   Miss   Rehan. 


OPHELIA. 

(Hamlet.) 


An  Ophelia  actually  mad,  chanting  her  pathetic 
song,  and  uttering  her  sad  words,  with  all  the  realism 
of  genuine  insanity  ! 

It  was  a  weird  sight,  and  one  that  chilled  the 
blood  of  the  spectators,  as  they  gazed  in  silence 
upon  the   uncanny  scene. 

They  all  recognized  the  actress,  and  realized  the 
situation.  Poor  Susan  Mountfort,  the  former  bright 
actress  of  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  in  her  insanity  had 
escaped  from  her  custodian,  and,  with  the  recollec- 
tions of  her  former  career  teeming  through  her  dis- 
tracted brain,  had  made  straight  for  the  playhouse. 
There,  with  all  the  cunning  of  an  insane  person, 
the  woman  had  hidden  for  a  time  behind  the  wings, 
while  her  former  associates  carried  on  the  play  of 
"•Hamlet."  But  just  at  the  moment  the  Ophelia 
of  the  evening  was  to  enter  for  the  mad  scene, 
Susan   Mountfort,  seizing  her  by    the    arm    to    push 

283 


284  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

her  back  from  the  entrance,  sprang  forward  in  her 
place,  and  with  wild  eyes  and  wavering-  motion 
rushed  upon  the  stage  uttering  the  words  :  — 

"  They  bore  him  barefaced  to  the  bier  ; 
Hey  no  nonny,  nonny  hey  nonny." 

For  a  moment  the  spectators  were  amazed.  As 
they  began  to  realize  the  situation,  a  murmur  ran 
through  the  house  :  and  then  came  the  strained 
silence  of  wonderment  and  perplexity. 

Magnificent  was  the  acting.  In  her  sane  days 
Susan  Mountfort  had  been  a  good  Ophelia,  and  now 
she  threw  into  the  part  such  intensity  of  action 
and  such  terrible  mental  effort  as  to  render  the 
character  overwhelmingly  vivid.  But  it  was  a  mercy 
when  friends  gently  led  her  away  from  the  foot- 
lights. Her  vitality  was  entirely  exhausted  b}*  the 
effort,  and  her  death  was  hastened. 

As  the  actress  was  conducted  meekly  from  the 
theatre,  the  voices  of  the  gallants  in  the  boxes 
were  heard  commenting  on  this  strange  finale  to 
a  series  of  sad  incidents  in  the  career  of  Susan 
Mountfort's  family.  They  recalled  the  day  when 
her  mother,  the  dainty,  lovely  Mrs.  Mountfort,  in 
tears  over  the  news  that  her  Jacobite  father.  Mr. 
Perceval,    had    just    been    condemned    to    death    for 


OPHELIA.  285 

treason  against  King;  William,  was  stricken  with  a 
double  grief  by  the  sudden  announcement,  in  the 
same  hour,  of  the  murder  of  lier  husband. 

Poor  Will  Mountfort,  as  handsome,  graceful,  win- 
ning an  actor  as  ever  lived!  His  death  forms  the 
conclusion  of  a  story  already  begun  in  the  tale 
of  the  Portias.  When  the  good  and  beautiful  Mrs. 
Bracegirdle  had  reached  home,  after  that  disgraceful 
attempt  on  the  part  of  Captain  Richard  Hill  and 
Lord  Mohun  to  carry  her  off  by  a  midnight  attack 
of  hired  soldiers,  she  heard  the  two  gentlemanly 
reprobates,  outside  the  house,  swearing  dire  threats 
against  her  respected  friend,  Mountfort.  To  warn 
her  neighbor  she  despatched  a  messenger  to  Mrs. 
Mountfort.  But  brave  Will,  instead  of  avoiding 
his  adversaries,  sought  them  out  for  a  courteous 
word  of  explanation  to  Lord  Mohun,  and  for  a  good 
round  curse  to  the  villain  Hill.  Hot  words  ensued  ; 
the  captain's  sword  was  drawn ;  and  before  the 
light-hearted  play-actor  could  effectively  resist,  the 
blade  had  passed  through  his  body,  and  life  was 
over. 

The  peers  tried  My  Lord  Mohun ;  but,  though 
fourteen  pronounced  their  associate  guilty,  more  than 
sixty  acquitted  him,  thus  leaving  the  gentleman, 
with  the   Earl  of  Warwick  as   assistant,  to   commit 


286  shakespeabe's  heroines. 

another  murder,  and  also,  later,  to  try  another  duel, 
in  which  he  and  his  adversary,  the  Duke  of  Hamil- 
ton, cut  each  other  to  horrible  death.  Hill  tied  the 
city  and  was  never  captured. 

All  this  Susan  Mountfort  had  in  her  memory  when 
she  went  upon  the  stage;  and  all  this  her  friends 
now  recalled.  They  spoke,  too.  of  her  own  peculiar 
life.  To  be  sure,  they  did  not  criticise  :  for  in  those 
days  the  household  alliance  of  the  actress  with  a 
fellow-actor,  the  great  Barton  Booth,  had  too  many 
precedents  in  the  theatrical  profession  —  and  out 
of  it,  as  well  —  to  cause  comment.  But  they  gos- 
sipped  over  the  magnanimous  way  in  which  Booth 
had  refused  to  trouble  the  lady,  when  she  selfishly 
declined  to  share  the  £5.000  won  in  a  lottery  by 
a  ticket  they  had  owned  together:  and  they  talked, 
again,  of  the  honest  way  in  which  the  dignified 
original  of  Addison's  famous  Cato  paid  over  to 
Susan,  when  they  broke  up  housekeeping  in  1718, 
the  £3,200  she  had  intrusted  to  his  care:  and 
then  they  had  their  contemptuous  sneer  for  her 
later  friend.  Mr.  Minshull,  who  had  squandered  all 
that  this  luckless  young  woman  brought  to  him. 

This  was  the  sad  story  of  one  Ophelia.  To  de- 
scribe all  the  Ophelias  of  the  stage  would  be  un- 
necessary, even  if  possible,  since  the   role  has  never 


OPHELIA.  287 

been  regarded  by  any  actress  as  her  ultimate  goal. 
It  has  either  served  as  an  intermediary,  while  players 
were  winning  their  way  to  fame  in  the  support  of 
eminent  Hamlets,  or  it  has  been  awarded  to  actresses 
who  were  found  wanting  and  quickly  fell  into  obscu- 
rity. If  you  please,  therefore,  we  will  simply  glance 
at  some  of  the  Ophelia  incidents  in  the  careers 
of  those  players  whom  we  know  so  well. 

There  was  a  pretty  picture  at  the  little  theatre  in 
Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  on  the  cold  December  night 
of  1661.  when  charming  Mistress  Saunderson,  as 
Ophelia,  expressed  her  love  in  earnest  to  the  ambi- 
tious young  Hamlet  of  the  night,  the  eloquent  Bet- 
terton.  She  was  beautiful  and  she  was  pure  ;  he  was 
handsome  and  he  was  upright.  We  may  be  sure 
their  mutual  adoration  was  not  forgotten  in  the  talk 
of  the  pit  between  the  acts,  as  the  orange  girls  ran 
hither  and  thither  to  receive  with  a  smile  the  tap- 
pings under  the  chin  while  their  wares  were  bought, 
and  as  the  tine  ladies  in  the  boxes  welcomed  the 
amorous  glances  of  ardent  swains  around  them. 

Miss  Saunderson,  through  Davenant,  had  received 
the  traditions  of  Ophelia's  impersonations  by  the  boy- 
actresses  before  the  Revolution  ;  but  never,  before  her 
day,  had  a  woman  essayed  the  rdle.  The  absurdity 
of    masculine   actresses,  even    if    a  common    and   ac- 


288  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

cepted  sight,  must  sometimes  have  caused  a  gay 
laugh  when  odd  situations  were  created.  Imagine, 
if  possible,  merry  Charles  II.  keeping  a  sober  face 
when,  after  he  had  become  impatient  over  the  delay 
in  beginning  "  Hamlet,"  and  had  sent  the  Earl  of 
Rochester  behind  the  scenes  to  ascertain  the  reason, 
he  was  solemnly  informed  that  kw  the  Queen  was  not 
quite  shaved." 

"  Odsfish  !  "  cried  the  King,  appreciating  the  point; 
k>  I  beg  her  majesty's  pardon.  We'll  wait  till  her 
barber  has  done  with  her." 

As  this  first  Hamlet  after  the  Restoration  really 
loved  his  Ophelia,  so  the  second  great  Hamlet,  Bar- 
ton Booth,  appeared  with  an  Ophelia  whose  winning 
behavior  made  him  a  slave  of  love,  and  whose  wise 
conduct  broke  him  from  the  slavery  of  Bacchus. 
A  beautiful  woman  was  Airs.  Booth,  according  to 
the  discriminating  verdict  of  the  younger  Cibber; 
lovely  in  countenance,  delicate  in  form,  and,  more- 
over,  pleasing  as  an  actress.  In  early  life  she  had 
been  a  dancer,  and  a  good  dancer. 

Next  to  Mrs.  Bootli  came  Mrs.  Theophilus  Cibber, 
"charming  in  every  part  she  undertook,  but  identi- 
fied with  Ophelia."  the  creator  of  the  feminine  ideal 
of  the  part.  kW  Her  features,  figure,  and  singing- 
made  her  appear  the  best  Ophelia  that  ever  appeared 


OPHELIA.  280 

either  before  or  since,"  cried  old  Tate  Wilkinson  in 
ecstasy ;  while  in  further  testimony  it  was  declared 
that  eloquence  could  not  paint  her  distressed  look 
in  the  mad  scene.  We  know  now  that,  in  her  own 
sad  experience  with  a  miserable  husband,  she  had 
affliction  enough  to  have  wrecked  her  senses,  like 
those  of  poor  Ophelia:  but,  fortunately,  this  calamity 
was  spared  her.  Her  tenderness  upon  the  stage,  it  is 
said,  was  so  real  that  she  wept  genuine  tears  in  the 
sad  scenes  ;  while  under  the  rouge  her  face  turned 
pale  with  the  force  of  her  assumed  agitation.  Her 
method  of  reciting  was  peculiar  to  some  players  of 
her  day,  —  a  sort  of  demi-chant,  by  which  the  words, 
uttered  in  a  high-pitched  key,  came  forth  in  monot- 
onous sing-song. 

In  no  such  way  did  the  lively  Peg  Woffington  de- 
claim  her  speeches.  Her  enthusiastic  temperament 
and  love  of  naturalness  would  never  have  permitted 
such  dawdling  over  the  lines.  With  glorious  Peg, 
the  role  of  Ophelia  bears  relation  from  its  having 
been  the  first  character  she  ever  essayed.  On  the 
12th  of  February,  1734,  when  the  precocious  girl 
was  in  her  sixteenth  year,  she  Wk  came  out  "  as  the 
associate  of  Hamlet  at  the  Theatre  Royal,  in  Dublin. 
Radiant  intelligence,  sparkling  repartee,  exquisite 
grace,  delightful  archness,  loveliness  of  face. — these 
are  the  charms  set  down  for  merry  Margaret. 


200  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

The  daughter  of  a  bricklayer  and  a  washerwoman, 
this  pretty  Irish  maiden  early  in  life  had  attracted 
the  eye  of  a  rope-dancer,  had  become  her  assistant, 
and  had  made  her  debut  in  public  high  enough,  to  be 
sure,  though  scarcely  in  touch  with  the  spectators, 
since  she  hung,  on  that  occasion,  from  the  feet  of 
her  teacher,  who  balanced  upon  the  tight-rope  over 
the  heads  of  the  crowd.  When,  at  last,  she  obtained 
a  safer  footing  on  the  regular  stage,  and,  after  acting 
Ophelia,  dashed  through  the  rdle  of  Sir  Harry  Wild- 
air,  in  Farquhar's  "Constant  Couple,"  she  won  the 
favor  of  the  town.  Her  hue  figure  and  graceful  vi- 
vacity made  of  her  an  adorable  youth.  One  young- 
lady,  indeed,  would  not  believe  but  that  this  self- 
same gallant  Sir  Harry  was  a  man,  and  forwarded  to 
the  impersonator  a,  glowing  proposal  of  marriage. 
The  imitation  of  all  high-born  ladies,  women  of 
dash,  or  spirited  young  men.  came  easily  within  the 
Woffington's  powers. 

As  for  her  notorious  infidelities.  "  Forgive  her  one 
female  error."  says  Murphy  :  "and  it  might  fairly 
be  said  of  her  that  she  was  adorned  with  every 
virtue  :  honor,  truth,  benevolence,  charity,  were  her 
distinguishing  qualities."  The  blood  of  her  family 
s]  tread  into  many  grand  households  of  Britain 
through    the    marriage   of   her  sister  to   the    second 


OPHELIA.  1,(,»1 

son  of  Earl  Cholmondeley.  Tlie  story  is  told  that 
the  Earl,  highly  indignant  at  this  mesalliance,  visited 
pretty  Margaret  to  free  his  mind  upon  the  subject, 
but  was  so  conquered  by  her  gentle,  winning  ways 
as  to  declare,  at  last,  that  he  was  really  happy  over 
his  son's  choice,  "my  dear  Mrs.  Woffington,"  though 
he  had  been  "so  very  much  offended  previously." 

"  Offended  previously  !  "  exclaimed  quiek-tongued 
Peggy,  nettled  at  the  haughty  suggestion.  "  Indeed  ! 
I  have  most  cause  to  be  offended  now." 

"  How  so,  my  dear  lady?  "  queried  the  Earl. 

'•'Because,"  sharply  responded  Mistress  Peg, 
••  whereas  I  had  one  beggar  to  support  before,  now  I 
have  two  !  " 

This  same  spirit  Mistress  Woffington  displayed 
when  her  famous  quarrel  with  George  Anne  Bellamy 
became  the  talk  of  the  town.  Miss  Bellamy  was  de- 
termined to  out-do  her  brilliant  rival  in  one  respect, 
at  least,  when  the  two  played  the  rival  Queens  upon 
the  same  stage,  and  so,  from  Paris,  secured  two  very 
elegant  costumes.  Poor  Peggy's  pale  straw  suit, 
thou gf h  it  had  once  belonged  to  the  Princess  Dowager 
of  Wales,  looked  faded  and  dingy  beside  Miss  Bel- 
lamy's robes  of  yellow  and  purple  ;  and  tempestuous 
Peggy's  jealousy  thereat  gave  way.  With  the 
Queen's   dagger  in    her   hand   she    rushed    upon    her 


292  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

terrified  rival,  and,  but  for  the  interposition  of  a  cer- 
tain Count  who  chanced  to  be  in  the  green-room, 
would  have  spoiled  forever  Miss  Bellamy's  personal 
beauty,  as  well  as  her  Parisian  dress. 

Yet  this  same  high-spirited  woman  died  with  be- 
nevolence in  her  heart,  bequeathing  her  wealth  to 
the  poor,  and  leaving  a  memory  which  even  now 
claims  admirers,  who  would  gloss  her  character  with 
her  many  virtues. 

When  Peg  Woffington  first  came  to  London  and 
met  Manager  Rich,  surrounded  by  his  score  of  cats, 
that  gentleman  found  her  as  majestic  as  Juno,  as 
beautiful  as  Venus,  and  as  modest  as  Hebe.  Yet  she 
was  frolicsome  as  well ;  and  the  day  one  lover,  play- 
ing her  false,  gave  his  attentions  to  another  lady,  she 
did  not  hesitate  to  disguise  herself  in  masculine  ap- 
parel, dance  with  her  faithless  lover's  mistress  at  the 
nuptial  ball,  and  whisper  in  her  ear  burning  insinua- 
tions of  the  gentleman's  earlier  attentions  to  a  certain 
gay  actress,  Peg  Woffington  —  a  little  bit  of  diplo- 
macy that  broke  off  the  match. 

Though  Kitty  Clive  had  the  distinction  of  being 
the  Ophelia  to  Garrick's  first  Hamlet  in  London 
(Nov.  16,  1742),  yet  the  very  next  season  Woffington 
gave  Englishmen  their  first  opportunity  of  seeing  her 
impersonation.     Later  on  came  a  quarrelsome  bit  of 


OPHELIA.  293 

housekeeping  with  Davy.  Gaze  at  the  counterfeit 
of  that  placid,  pale  face,  so  beautiful  in  its  outline, 
and  so  modest  in  its  gentleness,  and  realize,  if  you 
can,  that  this  good-natured,  generous  Peg  Woffington 
was  not  only  the  best  of  hoydens  on  the  stage,  but 
also  one  of  the  liveliest  of  matrons  off  the  stage. 
Garrick  wanted  to  marry  her,  but  he  found  their 
tastes  dissimilar  in  more  than  one  sense ;  he  with, 
niggard  hand  furnished  the  table  when  they  shared 
the  housekeeping  between  them  ;  she  with  generous 
hand  distributed  the  sugar  for  the  tea  so  liberally 
as  to  set  both  members  of  the  temporary  household 
at  odds-ends  with  each  other.  So  it  finally  became 
"  Aut  Csesar,  aut  Nullus,"  as  smart  Lord  Tyrawley 
said  when  she  took  up  with  Colonel  Caesar,  a  few 
months  after  her  dramatic  farewell  of  the  stao-e. 

When  Garrick  and  Woffington  united  their  do- 
mestic gods,  Margaret  was  getting  XT  10s.  a  week, 
or  the  equivalent  to-day  of  $100,  besides  a  benefit 
and  X50  a  year  for  costumes ;  Garrick  was  receiving 
£1000  a  year.  Afterward,  when  Mistress  Woffing- 
ton had  reached  the  height  of  her  career,  she  received 
,£800  a  year.  Manager  Sheridan,  with  remarkable 
generosity,  having  voluntarily  doubled  her  pay  after 
her  success  was  assured.  Peggy  lived  in  luxury. 
She  did  not  care  much  for  the  societv  of  women,  — 


204  siiakespeake's  heroines. 

they  could  talk  only  of  silks  and  scandal,  she  said ; 
but  her  delight  in  men's  company  often  set  the  bitter 
tongue  of  this  selfsame  scandal  asrainst  her.  When 
she  died  she  left  a  fortune  which  to-day  would  be 
valued  at  1100,000. 

One  of  her  children  carried  the  Wofnno-ton  blood 
into  a  noble  Irish  family,  while  another  became  maid 
of  honor  to  the  Princess  of  Wales  (Princess  Caro- 
line), and  was  killed,  in  1806.  by  the  upsetting  of  a 
carriao-e.  This  was  not  the  only  favor  of  the  actress 
to  aristocracy.  Kind-hearted  Peggy,  to  help  the 
pretty  Gunning  sisters  when  they  desired  to  attend 
a  grand  reception  at  Dublin  Castle,  loaned  them  two 
of  her  costumes,  so  that  they  might  appear  in  state. 
One  of  these  sisters  afterward  became  the  Countess 
of  Covington,  the  other  the  Duchess  of  Hamilton : 
and  the  latter,  we  are  told,  was  married  so  hastily  to 
the  Duke  that  her  lover  was  forced  to  use  a  curtain 
ring  instead  of  the  usual  circlet  of  gold.  Thus  the 
former  street  girl  of  Ireland  was  able  to  furnish  the 
first  full  dress  outfits  for  two  of  the  peeresses  of 
England. 

But,  in  this  long  chat  about  the  famous  Peggy  of 
olden  days,  we  must  not  forget  the  strange  career  of 
another  young  lady  (Mrs.  Baddeley )  who  made  her 
debut  as  Ophelia,     At  least,  it  is  believed  that  she 


OPHELIA.  "29") 

was  the  anonymous  actress  described  as  "a  young 
gentlewoman,"  who  played  the  mad  daughter  of 
Polonius,  Sept.  27.  1764. 

A  curious  gentlewoman,  however,  she  was.  It  is 
true  that  this  daughter  of  a  King's  sergeant-trum- 
peter, Miss  Sophia  Snow,  had  received  a  fair  educa- 
tion :  but  her  character  was  atrocious  from  the  very 
year  she  eloped  with  Robert  Baddeley,  the  actor, 
after  a  three  weeks*  love  affair,  until  her  death  in 
poverty  and  disgrace,  twenty-two  years  later.  In 
fact,  she  became  so  notorious  that  finally  Baddeley 
himself,  in  disgust,  would  have  nothing  to  do  with 
her.  But  though  they  quarrelled  vigorously  and 
lived  apart,  yet  on  the  stage  they  made  love  to  each 
other  and  talked  of  each  other's  charms  in  most  en- 
dearing terms.  Of  course  everybody  in  the  audience 
knew  the  facts,  and  even  George  the  Third  and  his 
consort  laughed  heartily  when  the  two  players  re- 
cited passages  from  the  play  that  suggested  scenes 
in  their  private  life. 

That  Mrs.  Baddeley  was  an  acknowledged  beauty 
is  shown  bv  the  compliments  showered  upon  her  by 
Foote,  in  1771,  when  she,  as  a  spectator,  saw  his 
comedy,  "  The  Maid  of  Bath." 

"  Not  the  beauty  of  the  nine  Muses  nor  even  of 
the    divine    Baddeley   herself,    who   is   sitting   there, 


296  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

could  exceed  that  of  the  Maid  of  Bath,"  exclaimed 
the  actor  on  the  stage,  pointing  straight  to  the  box 
wherein  the  siren  sat. 

How  the  audience  applauded.  So  heartily,  so  con- 
tinuously, did  they  keep  it  up  that  the  player  was 
obliged  to  repeat  his  words  once,  twice,  and  thrice. 
Then  Airs.  Baddeley,  blushing  violently,  —  for,  in 
truth,  we  are  told  that  she  discarded  the  practice  of 
other  beauties,  and  never  used  rouge  off  the  stage, — 
rose  from  her  seat,  and  for  a  full  quarter  of  an  hour 
courtesied,  and  courtesied,  and  courtesied  in  response 
to  the  call. 

But  the  very  next  year  the  managers  of  the  mas- 
queiades  at  the  Pantheon  decided  that  Mrs.  Baddeley 
and  other  "  doubtful"  people  should  not  be  admitted, 
as  they  wanted  only  people  of  quality  and  good  re- 
pute. Instantly  the  friends  of  the  noted  actress  were 
literally  in  arms  ;  for  fifty  noblemen,  drawing  their 
swords,  surrounded  her  chair,  and  escorted  her  to  the 
Pantheon.  There  they  compelled  the  constables  on 
guard  to  open  the  doors  to  the  lady.  More  than  that, 
at  the  point  of  the  sword,  they  compelled  the  mana- 
gers to  beg  the  pardon  of  Mrs.  Baddeley  and  to 
rescind  their  order. 

But  all  this  was  to  end.  Before  long,  debts  and 
difficulties  of  all  kinds  came  upon   her,  so  that  she 


MRS.    BADDELEY. 


OPHELIA.  207 

was  compelled  to  leave  the  country  or  be  imprisoned. 
When  she  returned  in  1773,  although  then  hut  thirty- 
eight  years  of  age,  Sophia  Baddeley  was  another 
woman  entirely.  As  Tate  Wilkinson  says,  describ- 
ing her  benefit  performance  at  York,  "  She  was  very 
lame,  and  to  make  that  worse  was  so  stupidly  intoxi- 
cated with  laudanum  that  it  was  with  great  difficulty 
she  finished  the  performance."  Through  illness, 
laziness,  and  inebriety,  it  was  never  certain  whether 
Mrs.  Baddeley's  performance  would  come  off  or  not. 
Finally  she  sank  into  neglect  and  contempt,  to  die 
at  last  in  besrsrary. 

Davies  sums  up  the  Ophelias,  from  the  first  down 
to  Mrs.  Baddeley's  day.  in  these  words:  "Till  the 
sweet  character  of  Ophelia  was  impersonated  by  Mrs. 
Cibber,  it  was  not  well  understood:  at  least,  for  these 
last  sixty  years.  Mrs.  Betterton.  says  ( !olley  Cibber, 
was  much  celebrated  for  action  in  Shakespeare's 
plays ;  and  Sir  William  Davenant  gave  her  such  an 
idea  of  it  as  he  could  catch  from  the  boy-Ophelias  he 
had  seen  before  the  Civil  Wars.  Mrs.  Booth's  figure, 
voice,  and  deportment  in  this  part,  raised  in  the 
minds  of  the  spectators  an  amiable  picture  of  an  in- 
nocent, unhappy  maid:  but  she  went  no  farther.  Of 
Mrs.  Clive's  Ophelia  I  shall  only  say  that  I  regret 
that  the  first  comic  actress  in  the  world  should  so  far 


298  shakespeaee's  heroines. 

mistake  Tier  talents  as  to  undertake  it.  No  eloquence 
can  paint  the  distressed  and  distracted  look  of  Mrs. 
Cibber  wliile  she  uttered  the  sentence,  'Lord,  we 
know  what  we  are.'  No  actress  has  hitherto  revived 
the  idea  of  Mrs.  (Jibber's  Ophelia  except  Mrs.  Bad- 
deley,  whose  pleasing  sensibility,  melodious  voice, 
and  correspondent  action  made  us  less  regret  the 
great  actress  in  this  part." 

The  great  Mrs.  Siddons  made  the  character  of 
Ophelia  deeply  affecting,  not  only  to  the  public,  but 
also,  if  we  may  believe  tradition,  to  her  fellow-play- 
ers ;  for  are  we  not  told  that  the  lady  who  played 
the  Queen  on  that  night  of  May  15,  1785,  when 
Mrs.  Siddons  first  essayed  the  character  in  London, 
was  so  electrified  by  Ophelia's  gleaming  eyes  and 
tragic  face,  as  the  Siddons  seized  her  arm,  that  she 
completely  forgot  her  words  and  her  appointed  ac- 
tion. The  Hamlet  of  that  production  was  Siddons's 
brother,  John  Kemble. 

Possibly  to  Mrs.  Siddons's  mind,  two  years  later, 
there  may  have  come  a  sad  thought  of  the  cause  of 
Ophelia's  madness,  in  seeing  the  end  of  poor  Brere- 
ton,  the  sighing  lover  to  her  heroines  in  other  Shake- 
spearian plays.  Playgoers  in  those  days  guessed 
that  the  beautiful  daughter  of  the  itinerant  Kembles, 
though   enjoying  a   happy  marriage   since   her  nine- 


OPHELIA.  299 

teenth  year  to  another  handsome,  youthful  player, 
was  too  ardently  admired  by  the  Orlando  of  the 
"As  You  Like  It"'  production  in  which  she  played 
Rosalind,  a  short  time  before  her  appearance  as 
Ophelia. 

"It  is  said  she  was  beautiful,  even  lovely,  and 
won  men's  hearts  as  Rosalind,"  said  John  Wilson, 
describing  Siddons's  younger  days.  Boaden  draws 
her  picture  with  more  detailed  color.  "  Her  height  is 
above  the  middle  size,"  writes  this  chronicler,  care- 
fully measuring  the  figure  in  his  mind's  eye,  "but 
not  at  all  inclined  to  the  embonpoint  ;  there  is,  not- 
withstanding, nothing  sharp  or  irregular  in  her 
frame  ;  there  is  sufficient  muscle  to  bestow  a  round- 
ness upon  the  limbs,  and  her  attitudes  are,  therefore, 
distinguished  equally  by  energy  and  grace.  The 
symmetry  of  her  person  is  exact  and  captivating ; 
her  face  is  peculiarly  happy,  the  features  being  finely 
formed,  though  strong,  and  never  for  an  instant 
seeming  overlarged,  like  the  Italian  faces,  nor  coarse 
or  unfeminine  under  whatever  impulse.  On  the 
contrary,  it  is  so  thoroughly  harmonized  when  quies- 
cent, and  so  expressive  when  impassioned,  that  most 
people  think  her  more  beautiful  than  she  is." 

Brereton,  who  had  been  a  poor  actor  until  he  met 
Mrs.    Siddons,    and   then,   by  the   inspiration   of    her 


300  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

acting,  had  become  a  good  player,  fell  in  love  with 
the  iceberg.  The  Queen  of  the  Drama,  however, 
would  not  listen  to  his  pleadings,  and  so  her  repu- 
tation never  really  suffered.  Yet  we  know  that  the 
kind  friends  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Brereton  tried  to  help 
along  the  family  peace  of  that  household  by  hinting 
to  the  lady  how  much  her  husband  thought  of  the 
beautiful  "  other  woman  "  to  whom  he  sighed  lover's 
swe  it  nothings  upon  the  stage.  And  when  the 
actor's  later  insanity  compelled  him  to  retire  from 
the  stage,  and  when  that  same  mental  affliction 
ended  his  life,  two  years  after  this  "Hamlet"  per- 
formance of  1785,  these  same  friends  whispered  to 
one  another  that  all  this  madness  was  due  to  a 
quarrel  with  "a  great  tragic  actress  of  whom  lie  is 
said  to  be  very  fond."' 

Only  a  few  weeks  before  Mrs.  Siddons  undertook 
the  role  of  the  suffering  Ophelia,  the  actress  wrote 
her  friend  Dr.  Whalley,  alluding  undoubtedly  to 
these  same  rumors  which  associated  her  stage  lover 
with  her  fascinating  charms,  "  I  have  been  very  un- 
happy. Now  't  is  over,  I  will  venture  to  tell  you,  so 
that  you  may  not  lose  the  dues  of  rejoicing.  Envy, 
malice,  detraction,  all  the  fiends  of  hell,  have  com- 
passed me  round  to  destroy  me  ;  but  blessed  be  God 
who  hath  given   me   the  victory,  etc.      I    have  been 


OPHELIA.  301 

charged  with  almost  every  tiling  bad,  except  inconti- 
nence ;  and  it  is  attributed  to  me  as  thinking  a 
woman  may  be  guilty  of  every  crime,  provided  she 
retain  her  chastity.  God  help  them,  and  forgive 
them ;  they  know  but  little  of  me." 

Curious  it  is  to  notice  that  the  widow  of  Brereton 
(a  lady  worthy  of  fame  as  the  original  Maria  in  the 
"School  for  Scandal")  on  a  wintry  evening  less  than 
a  year  after  her  husband  had  sighed  away  his  life  in 
a  mad-house,  married  the  brother  of  Mrs.  Siddons,  in 
spite  of  that  lady's  protests  ;  and  then,  on  the  mar- 
riage eve,  went  off  to  Drury  Lane  with  Jack  Ban- 
nister, to  play  in  the  "West  Indian,"  while  Mr. 
Kemble  and  Mrs.  Bannister  kept  house  until  the  two 
returned.  This  early  separation,  however,  was  only 
the  expected  contingency  of  an  actor's  life  ;  it  did 
not  interfere  with  their  wedded  happiness. 

Of  our  later  English  friends  there  are  two  with 
whom  Ophelia  holds  intimate  connection.  One,  Mrs. 
Kendal,  has  not  often  added  her  name  to  u  character 
of  Shakespeare,  devoting  her  talents  chiefly  to  mod- 
ern home  comedy.  But  at  the  beginning  of  her 
career  she  played  Ophelia.  If  one  must  speak 
strictly  by  the  board,  her  very  first  appearance  on 
the  stage  was  not  in  -Shakespeare,  since,  when  a  child 
of  three  years,  she  had  appeared  as  the  Blind  Child 


302  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

in  the  "  Seven  Poor  Travellers ; "  and  at  the  age  of 
six  had  played  Eva  in  '"Uncle  Tom's  Cabin."  But 
her  first  appearance  in  London  after  her  childhood 
was  as  Ophelia  to  the  Hamlet  of  Walter  Montgom- 
ery. This  was  at  the  Haymarket  Theatre,  on  the 
29th  of  July,  1865,  when  Madge  Robertson  was 
sixteen  years  of  age. 

A  few  weeks  later,  at  Hull,  we  find  Miss  Robert- 
son playing,  one  night,  the  lady-in-wings  in  bur- 
lesque, ending  her  performance  with  a  dance,  and 
on  another  night  acting  Lady  Macbeth  to  Samuel 
Phelps's  Thane.  At  first  the  choice  of  actress  for 
the  tragedy-heroine  lay  between  the  girl  and  a  very 
old  lady ;  but  as  the  elderly  matron  was  filially 
judged  incapable.  Miss  Robertson,  in  spite  of  her 
protests,  found  herself  thrust  into  a  long  dress  of  her 
mother's,  and  bidden  act  the  role.  "  I  went  on,"  she 
says,  "and  was  received  tremendously;  and,  having 
been  taught  by  my  father,  I  suppose  I  got  through 
it  somehow,  and  was  vociferously  cheered.  It  shows 
how,  if  anybody,  however  incompetent,  pleases  an 
audience,  they  will  sweep  art,  experience,  and  knowl- 
edge out  of  the  whole  thing,  and  give  the  inexperi- 
enced a  hearing.     I  was  called  over  and  over  again. 

O  *~J 

Mr.  Phelps  did  not  take  me  before  the  curtain.  Why 
should  he  ?    When  he  went  on  again,  he  was  greeted 


OPHELIA.  303 

with  cries  of,  'Bring  her  out!'  As  my  father  was 
standing  at  the  wings,  he  was  sent  for :  and  a  young 
man  out  of  the  gallery,  of  enormous  size,  came  round, 
and  said  to  him,  '  Ay,  Mr.  Robertson,  if  thou  say'st 
t'  word,  I'll  duck  him  in  t'  1 1  umber.  He's  not 
brought  on  our  Madge.'  My  father  had  to  take 
Mr.  Phelps  out  of  the  front  door,  to  avoid  the  gal- 
lery boys  throwing  him  in  t'  Humber.  A  greater 
insult  to  a  'genius'  —  for  this  time  we  apply  the 
word  in  its  right  place  —  a  greater  insult  than  a  chit 
attempting  to  stand  upon  the  same  stage  with  this 
man,  who  was,  as  all  the  world  will  acknowledge,  a 
really  great  actor,  I  have  never  experienced.  But 
so  kind,  so  generous,  was  Mr.  Phelps,  that  when  I 
came  to  London  he  paid  me  the  compliment  of 
sending  for  me  to  play  Lady  Teazle  at  his  benefit 
at  the  Standard  Theatre." 

Mrs.  Kendal  afterwards  acted  Juliet,  Rosalind,  and 
Viola;  but  the  e  very-day,  unidealized  character  of 
the  modern  comedy  is  more  essentially  her  forte. 

As  with  Mrs.  Kendal,  so  with  Ellen  Terry, 
Ophelia  was  not  absolutely  her  first  character; 
but  it  was  the  first  part  Miss  Terry  played  at 
the  Lyceum  Theatre  when  she  began  that  engage- 
ment with  Mr.  Irving's  company  which  has  con- 
tinued   until    to-day,  and    has    been    so    fruitful    of 


304  shakespeake's  heroines. 

artistic  impulses  to  the  theatres  of  England  and  of 
America. 

Miss  Terry  was  born  at  Coventry,  Feb.  27.  1848. 
Her  first  appearance  was  as  the  child  Mamilius  in 
the  "  Winter's  Tale,"  when  produced  by  Charles 
Kean  at  the  Princess's  Theatre.  In  1867  she  first 
played  on  the  stage  with  Mr.  Irving,  the  two  appear- 
ing in  "Catherine  and  Petruchio :  "  and  it  is  said 
that  even  then  the  actor  declared  he  had  found  a 
stage  companion  to  whom  he  could  turn  when  he 
had  attained  his  ambition  of  conducting  a  theatre. 
After  her  elder  sister  Kate  had  left  the  stage,  in 
1867.  Ellen  Terry  retired  for  six  years;  and  then,  on 
returning,  played  at  various  theatres,  until  her  pro- 
nounced success  in  " Olivia"  (Mr.  W.  G.  Wills's 
stage  arrangement  of  the  4;  Vicar  of  Wakefield '") 
brought  her  into  prominence.  Mr.  Irving  immedi- 
ately engaged  her,  to  take  the  place  of  Miss  Isabel 
Bateman ;  and  two  days  before  the  closing  of  the 
year  1878  Ellen  Terry  captivated  the  London  world 
with  her  poetic  and  intellectual  Ophelia. 

Oscar  Wilde  has  pictured  the  Lyceum  Ophelia  in 
an  interesting  way.  "Of  all  the  parts  which  Miss 
Terry  has  acted  in  her  brilliant  career,"  he  wrote  in 
1885,  "  there  is  none  in  which  her  infinite  powers  of 
pathos,  and  her  imaginative  and  creative  faculty  are 


ELLEN    TERRY    AS    OPHELIA. 
Used   by   Arrangement   with    Window    and    Grove,    London. 


OPHELIA.  30 


.) 


more  shown  than  in  her  Ophelia.  Miss  Terry  is  one 
of  those  rare  artists  who  use  for  their  dramatic 
efforts  no  elaborate  dialogue,  and  for  whom  the 
simplest  words  are  sufficient.  *  I  loved  you  not,' 
says  Hamlet;  and  all  that  Ophelia  answers  is,  WI  was 
the  more  deceived.'  These  are  not  very  grand  words 
to  read,  but  as  Miss  Terry  gave  them  in  acting1  they 
seemed  to  be  the  highest  possible  expression  of 
Ophelia's  character.  Beautiful,  too,  was  the  quick 
remorse  she  conveyed  by  her  face  and  gesture  the 
moment  she  had  lied  to  Hamlet  and  told  him  her 
father  was  at  home.  This  I  thought  a  masterpiece 
of  good  acting,  and  her  mad  scene  was  wonderful 
beyond  all  description." 

Miss  Terry  herself,  describing  the  other  side  of 
the  shield,  tells  in  graphic  language  her  experiences 
while  acting  Ophelia  on  that  night  of  Dec.  30, 
1878.  tw  I  shall  never  forget  it,"  she  says.  "  Dear 
old  Mrs.  Rumball  was  waiting  for  me  in  my  dress- 
ing-room. I  finished  my  part  at  the  end  of  the 
fourth  act;  I  couldn't  wait  to  see  the  fifth.  I 
rushed  up-stairs  to  my  room  and  threw  myself  into 
her  arms. 

"  'I've  failed  !    I've  failed  !  '    I  cried,  in  despair. 

"  *  No,  no,"  responded  the  good  soul. 

•••But    I    have,  I    have!     Come  along;'    and  we 


306  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

hurried  from  the  theatre,  I  in  my  Ophelia  dress  with 
a  big  eloak  thrown  around  me,  and  drove  up  and 
down  the  Embankment  a  dozen  times  before  I  dared 
ofo  home/' 

The  next  day,  when  the  papers  all  praised  the 
actress  with  unstinting  words,  her  misgivings  disap- 
peared.    Then  she  was  happy. 

In  America  the  first  impersonator  of  Ophelia  was 
the  benevolent  Catherine  Maria  Harman,  errand- 
daughter  of  the  celebrated  Colley  Gibber,  the  old 
actor  and  poet-laureate  of  England.  For  seven  years 
the  American  Company  of  actors  had  been  in  exist-, 
ence,  but  under  the  management  of  Hallam  had 
never  essayed  k*  Hamlet.*'  Now,  in  1759,  the  play- 
ers, headed  by  Douglass  as  successor  of  Hallam 
(both  as  the  second  manager  of  the  theatrical  troupe, 
and  as  the  second  husband  of  the  widow  of  the 
earlier  manager),  coming  to  Philadelphia  from  New 
York,  brought  out  Shakespeare's  masterpiece  on  the 
27th  of  July.  The  leading  roles  no  longer  belonged 
to  Mrs.  Douglass;  she  now  was  content  to  play  the 
Queen,  thus  appearing  as  the  mother  of  her  actual 
son.  Lewis  Hallam  the  younger,  who  had  been  rap- 
idly pushed  forward  to  the  chief  roles.  A  dangerous 
experiment  was  this,  to  give  Hamlet  to  a  youth  of 
nineteen.  The  Ghost  was  Mr.  Douglass.  Mr.  Har- 
man acted  Polonius. 


OPHELIA.  307 

Nevermore  after  this  season  do  we  hear  of  Mr. 
Harman.  Whether  lie  retired  or  died  the  next 
year  is  unknown.  But  an  obituary  of  Mrs.  Har- 
man, published  in  RivingtorCs  Gazette,  New  York. 
on  June  3,  1773,  not  only  gives  the  date  of  her 
death  (May  27),  but  also  has  the  curiosity  attached 
to  it  of  being-  the  first  obituary  of  an  actress  ever 
printed  in  an  American  newspaper.  Only  by  this 
brief  obituary  is  her  relationship  with  Cibber  estab- 
lished ;  for  her  mother,  the  notorious  Charlotte 
Charke,  in  her  memoirs,  took  good  care  to  avoid 
mentioning'  the  name  of  her  daughter's  husband. 
"  Though  I  had  no  fortune  to  give  her,"  wrote  this 
strong-minded  nomadic  actress  of  old,  "  without  any 
partiality  I  look  on  her  as  a  more  advantageous 
match  for  a  discreet  man,  than  a  woman  who  might 
firing  one  and  confound  it  in  unnecessary  expenses, 
which,  I  am  certain,  Kitty  never  will  do  ;  and  had 
she  met  with  as  sober  and  respectable  a  creature  as 
herself,  in  the  few  years  they  have  had  a  company 
might  have  been  worth  a  considerable  sum  of  money, 
to  have  set  them  up  in  some  creditable  business  that 
might  have  redounded  more  to  their  credit  and  rep- 
utation." 

After  a  brief  career  as  a  strolling  player  in  the 
provinces     of     England,     Mrs.     Harman    sailed    for 


308  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

America.  She  was  then  seven  and  twenty  years 
of  age;  at  her  death  she  was  forty-two.  "She 
was  a  just  actress.'"  says  the  modest  obituary  which 
gives  all  we  have  of  her  record,  -possessed  much 
merit  in  low  comedy,  and  dressed  all  her  characters 
with  infinite  propriety  :  but  her  figure  prevented 
her  from  succeeding  in  tragedy  and  genteel  coined}-. 
In  private  life  she  was  sensible,  humane,  and  benevo- 
lent." And  then  the  paragraph  adds,  in  quaint  ex- 
pression, "  Her  obsequies  were  on  Saturday  night 
attended  by  a  very  genteel  procession  to  the  ceme- 
tery of  the  old  English  church."  One  other  refer- 
ence in  the  notice  shows  an  interesting  connection 
with  the  original  Imogen  and  Catherine  of  America. 
"  Her  little  fortune  she  has  left  to  Miss  Cheer,"  it 
reads.  Miss  Cheer,  therefore,  was  at  this  time  living 
in  New  York. 

The  first  Ophelia  that  ever  chanted  her  sad  melody 
upon  the  stage  of  a  regularly  established  Boston 
theatre,  Mas  the  Miss  Baker  who  created  such  con- 
sternation in  the  noted  family  of  Paines.  She  had 
come  from  England,  with  her  father  and  mother,  to 
assist  in  dedicating  the  Federal-street  Theatre  of  the 
Puritanical  city,  opened  six  years  before  the  pres- 
ent century  began.  On  that  night  of  February  3. 
Thomas  Paine,  the  winner  of  the  gold  medal  offered 


OPHELIA.  309 

for  the  best  preliminary  address,  listened  to  the  read- 
ing of  his  pedantic  verse  by  actor  Powell  in  the 
character  of  Apollo ;  at  the  same  time  our  poet  east 
admiring  eyes  towards  the  amiable,  modest,  and 
elegant  Miss  Baker.  In  February.  1795,  when  the 
lady  was  only  seventeen  years  of  age,  the  two  were 
married. 

But  the  father,  the  dignified  Robert  Treat  Paine, 
Sr.,  whose  name  attached  to  the  Declaration  of 
Independence  has  served  as  a  lasting  memorial  to 
his  honor,  refused  to  recognize  the  bride,  and  for- 
bade the  couple  his  house.  Not  until  three  years 
had  passed  would  he  allow  a  reconciliation.  Miss 
Baker  never  returned  to  the  stage.  Her  husband, 
unfortunately,  turned  his  attention  to  other  actresses 
after  his  marriage.  The  lady's  Ophelia  in  the 
"■Hamlet"  performance  of  April  18,  1794,  was  not 
much  admired.  Bostonians  said  the  part  should, 
by  rights,  have  gone  to  Miss  Harrison  or  to  Mrs. 
Abbot,  just  as  they  also  insisted  that  Mrs.  Powell, 
and  not  Mrs.  Baker,  should  have  had  the  role  of  the 
Queen. 

Notable  casts  of  "  Hamlet "  have  appeared  on 
American  playbills  during  the  past  century,  but 
none  more  notable  than  that  of  the  famous  testimo- 
nial to  Lester  Wallack,  on  the  21st  of  May.  1888.     It 


310  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

is  true  that  in  1856,  at  Burton's  Theatre,  E.  L.  Daven- 
port was  the  Hamlet,  Mrs.  Davenport  the  Ophelia, 
Mark  Smith  the  Polonius,  Charles  Fisher  the  Ghost, 
Messrs.  Burton  and  Placide  the  Grave-diggers  ;  and 
that  in  1861,  at  Niblo's  Garden,  Mr.  Davenport  was 
the  Hamlet,  Mrs.  Barrow  the  Ophelia,  James  W. 
Wallack,  Jr.,  the  Ghost,  Mrs.  Wallack  the  Queen, 
William  Wheatley  the  Laertes,  and  Thomas  Placide 
the  first  Grave-digger.  But  the  Wallack  testimonial 
leads  all  in  importance.  Edwin  Booth  was  then 
the  Hamlet.  Just  thirty-one  years  before,  in  May, 
1857,  he  had  shown  his  Dane  for  the  first  time  to 
New  York  audiences,  at  the  Metropolitan  Theatre, 
then  managed  by  Burton.  Mr.  Booth  at  that  time 
was  but  four  and  twenty ;  Hamlet  continued  his 
until  he  was  fifty-eight.  His  first  Ophelia  in  New 
York  was  Sarah  Stevens.  After  her  followed,  to  this 
one  Hamlet,  Ada  Clifton,  Mrs.  Barrow,  Mrs.  Frank 
Chanfrau  (his  Ophelia  during  the  famous  hundred 
nights'  production  at  the  Winter  Garden  in  1864- 
1865),  Effie  Germon,  Mme.  Scheller,  Blanche  De 
Bar,  Bella  Pateman,  Miss  Jeffreys-Lewis,  Eleanor 
Carey,  Mrs.  Alexina  Fisher  Baker,  Clara  Jennings, 
Mme.  Modjeska,  Minna  Gale. 

At   the    Wallack    benefit,    on    the    stage    of     the 
Metropolitan    Opera    House,   in   New  York,  Booth's 


OPHELIA.  311 

Ophelia  was    Mme.   Modjeska —  and    thereby  hangs 

a  tale. 

In  Modjeska's  life  the  character  of  Ophelia  has 
played  a  curious  part.  It  was  the  first  Shake- 
spearian heroine  she  ever  saw  upon  the  stage. 
When  a  little  girl  in  Cracow,  longing  to  become 
an  actress,  or  an  author,  or  a  nun,  she  saw  Fritz 
Devrient  play  Hamlet,  and  was  so  captivated  by 
the  play  that  she  went  home  to  commit  the  entire 
tragedy  to  memory,  and  from  that  hour  to  discard 
Schiller  for  a  new  idol,   Shakespeare. 

It  was  the  first  Shakespearian  character  she  ever 
acted  on  the  stage.  Just  at  the  beginning  of  her 
career,  after  a  few  role*  in  Polish  plays,  she  was 
given  Ophelia,  in  1866,  and  soon  followed  that 
with  Portia  and  Beatrice. 

It  was  the  first  Shakespearian  character  she  acted 
on  the  American  stage,  and  the  first  of  Shake- 
speare's heroines  whose  words  she  gave  in  the 
English  tongue.  That  was  in  1887,  when  Mod- 
jeska,  after  a  long  struggle  against  poverty  in  an 
attempt  at  farming,  determined  to  try  the  stage 
again.  Without  the  knowledge  of  her  husband, 
she  sought  an  engagement  at  the  San  Francisco 
theatre.  That  engagement  was  slow  in  coming. 
The    manager,    to    her    great    indignation,    regarded 


312  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

her  as  a  society  amateur,  politely  addressed  her 
by  her  genuine  title,  ,k  Countess,"  and  declined  to 
believe  that  she  could  really  act.  This,  after  she 
had  been  accredited  in  Warsaw  as  the  leading 
actress  of  Poland !  She  insisted  on  his  hearing 
her  recite.     He  did,  and  she  conquered. 

How  curiously  some  things  come  about !  Mme. 
Modjeska's  ambition,  even  in  those  early  days, 
before  she  could  speak  the  English  language  well, 
was  to  act  with  Edwin  Booth ;  but  that  hope, 
saving  the  single  notable  instance  of  the  Wallack 
tribute,  was  never  realized  until  the  season  of 
1889-1890,  when  Lawrence  Barrett  managed  the 
tour  of  Booth  and  Modjeska. 

In  1877  Mr.  Barrett  was  in  the  supporting  com- 
pany of  Booth  at  the  California  Theatre,  in  San 
Francisco,  when  Modjeska  made  her  application  to 
play  Ophelia  in  French  to  Booth's  Hamlet.  Mod- 
jeska's request  led  to  an  interview,  the  first  meeting 
of  the  three  later  associates:  and  the  Polish  actress, 
to  show  her  ability,  read  in  French  a  scene  from 
"  Camille,"  and  a  recitation  from  "Adrienne  Lecou- 
vreur ; "  declaimed  in  German  a  portion  of  Schiller's 
*4  Robbers,"  and  in  the  Polish  language  recited  a 
poem,  "  Hagar  in  the  Wilderness."  But  as  she 
conld   not  speak  the  English  language,  all  present, 


MME.    MODJESKA    AS    OPHELIA. 


OPHELIA.  313 

Mr.  Booth.  John  McCullough,  then  manager  of  the 
theatre,  Barton  Hill,  and  others  of  the  company, 
while  praising  her  talents,  yet  united  in  advising 
the  actress  to  study  for  the  English-speaking  stage 
before  attempting  to  make  her  debut  in  America. 

Modjeska  began  work  at  once  upon  our  perplexing- 
language,  conquered  it  in  nine  months  of  close  study, 
and  made  her  first  appearance  at  the  California 
Theatre  as  Adrienne.  Her  success  was  at  once  pro- 
claimed. On  Saturday  night  of  the  same  week,  John 
McCullough  took  his  benefit,  and  chose  "Hamlet." 
Then  Modjeska  played  Ophelia  in  English  ;  or, 
rather,  played  the  greater  part  of  it  in  English,  since 
lack  of  time  to  study  the  original  text  compelled  her 
to  give  the  mad  scene  in  Polish,  while  all  the  rest  was 
in  the  words  of  the  author.  Juliet  followed  in  the 
second  week. 

But  the  lady's  ambition  to  play  with  Booth  was 
not  to  be  gratified  until  eleven  years  later.  Then 
another  curious  result  wrought  itself  out ;  for  her 
first  appearance  in  union  with  Booth  was  made  in  the 
very  character  that  she  had  originally  asked  to  essay 
with  him,  Ophelia,  and  it  was  then  the  first  time  she 
read  all  the  lines  of  the  part  in  the  English  tongue. 
That  memorable  occasion  was  the  Wallack  benefit, 
when  this  notable  cast  appeared  ' 


314 


SHAKESPEARE  S    HEROINES. 


Hamlet  .  .  . 
Ghost  .... 
King  Claudius 
Polonies  .  .  . 
Laertes  .  .  . 
Horatio  .  .  . 
rosencrantz  . 
guildenstern  . 

OSRIC       .... 

Marcellus  .  . 
Bernardo  .  . 
Francisco  .  . 
First  Actoi:  .  . 
Second  Actor  . 
First  Grave-Diggei: 
Second  Grave-Digger 

Priest 

Ophelia 

Queen  Gertrude 
The  Player  Queen  . 


Edwin  Booth. 
Lawrence  Barrett. 
Frank  Mayo. 
John  Gilbert. 
Eben  Plympton. 
John  A.  Lane. 
Charles  Hanford. 
Lawrence  IIanley. 
Charles  Koeiiler. 
Edwin  H.  Vanderfelt. 
Herbert  Kelcey. 
Frank  Mordaunt. 
Joseph   Wheelock. 
MlLNES    LEVICK. 

Joseph  Jefferson. 
W.  J.  Florence. 
Harry  Edwards. 
Helena  Modjeska. 
Gertrude  Kellogg. 
Rose  Coghlan. 


Had  Modjeska  been  accorded  her  wish  in  1877, 
she  would  have  appeared  with  Barrett,  Tom  Keene, 
Harry  Edwards,  Barton  Hill,  William  Mestayer, 
Effie  Wilton,  and  Alice  Harrison,  as  well  as  Booth, 
for  they  were  all  in  the  California  Theatre  company 
at  that  time. 

Around  the  author's  portrait  of  Ophelia,  Mine. 
Modjeska  places  the  fine  framing  of  her  own  attrac- 
tive personality,  and  with  the  gilding  of  sweetness 
and  tenderness  adds  charm  to  the  picture  The  mad 
scene  is  presented   with  chaste  and  refined   tonings, 


OPHELIA.  315 

deeply  pathetic  in  its  soft,  appealing  method  of  ac- 
tion, more  touching  and  musically  effective  in  its  sad 
chanting  than  is  the  rule  with  Ophelias  of  to-day, 
and  harmonious  to  the  gentle  character,  with  only 
one  rough,  uncanny  touch,  the  sudden,  sharp,  resonant 
laugh  at  the  first  exit  from  the  scene.  Modjeska's 
costuming  of  the  latter  scene  departs  from  the  tradi- 
tional white  dress,  showing  in  its  stead  a  pale  green 
gown,  partially  loosened  at  the  throat,  and  exposing 
one  bare  arm  as  the  dishevelled  accompaniment  for 
the  disordered  mind. 

The  last  Ophelia  of  the  American  stage  was  the 
last  Ophelia  to  Edwin  Booth's  Hamlet;  for  no  prom- 
inent actor  since  Booth's  death  has  ventured  to 
assume  regularly  the  character  of  the  princely  Dane. 
This  Ophelia  was  Minna  Gale.  A  New  York  girl, 
the  first  of  her  family  to  seek  representation  in 
theatrical  ranks,  Miss  Gale  worked  throughout  the 
hot  summer  of  1885  as  impersonator  of  nearly  every 
kind  of  character  in  Bandmann's  company,  all  for  the 
experience,  without  a  dollar  of  salary.  But  this  was 
the  means  of  securing  an  engagement  with  Lawrence 
Barrett's  company  that  fall;  and  when  Marie  Wain- 
wright  started  forth  to  star  with  Louis  James,  Miss 
Gale  was  promoted  to  the  place  of  leading  lady. 
Then,  when  Barrett  and  Booth  combined,  the  young 


316  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

player  became  the  Ophelia  to  the  greater  tragedian. 
On  Saturday  afternoon,  April  4,  1891,  at  the  Brook- 
lyn Academy  of  Music,  her  Ophelia  accompanied  the 
final  Hamlet  of  America's  most  scholarly  actor.  On 
the  preceding  20th  of  March,  Mr.  Barrett  had  died ; 
and  his  friend  and  associate,  as  soon  as  possible, 
closed  his  own  theatrical  career.  Two  years  later. 
June  8,  1898.  Edwin  Booth  was  dead. 


DESDEMONA. 
(Othello.  ) 


Dendkmona  was  the  first  character  ever  acted  by 
an  English  woman  on  the  English  stage. 

From  the  great  host  of  fair  Venetians,  then,  who 
have  lived,  suffered,  and  died  behind  the  footlights, 
let  us  select  the  originals  of  the  character  in  Eng- 
land and  in  America,  leaving  the  rest,  for  the  most 
part,  to  pass  from  their  Desdemona  rdles  either  to 
fame  or  to  oblivion,  as  the  Fates  have  decreed. 

The  actors  of  the  Elizabethan  era  were  gifted 
and  earnest  men.  notwithstanding  some  erroneous 
ideas  to  the  contrary.  They  were,  as  boys,  regularly 
bound  over  to  the  profession.  Each  principal  was 
said  to  have  been  allowed  an  apprentice,  who  played 
young  and  female  parts,  for  which  he  received  a 
moderate  sum:  and  having  the  guidance  and  exam- 
pie  of  great  types  constantly  before  him,  the  boy 
generally  grew  to  prominence  in  his  interesting  but 
difficult  art.      The  actor  of   that   period   lived  well, 

317 


318  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

in  a  fine  city  or  suburban  mansion,  signed  himself 
"gentleman."  found  his  society  sought  and  enjoyed 
by  the  leading  men  of  the  times  and,  if  ordinarily 
prudent,  had  the  possibility  and  probability  of  living- 
wealthy  and  dying  honored. 

Just  before  the  Puritan  Revolution,  there  were  five 
complete  companies  in  London.  —  the  King's  Ser- 
vants, so-called,  at  the  Blackfriars  in  winter,  and  at 
the  Globe  in  summer;  the  Prince's  Servants  at 
Salisburv  Court ;  the  Queen's  Servants  at  the  Cock- 
pit, in  Drury  Lane  :  and  the  actors  of  the  two  cheap 
theatres,  the  Fortune  and  the  Red  Bull. 

In  1629  an  attempt  was  made  to  introduce  women 
upon  the  stage,  a  French  company  of  actors  and  ac- 
tresses coming  across  the  channel  to  try  their  fortune 
at  Blackfriars.  "Monsters,"  Puritan  Prynne  called 
them,  "unwomanly  and  graceless"  creatures.  "All 
virtuous  and  well-disposed  persons  in  this  town " 
were  "justly  offended"  by  their  presence,  declared 
Thomas  Brand,  adding,  "  Glad  am  I  to  say  they  were 
hissed,  hooted,  and  pippin-pelted  from  the  stage,  so 
that  I  do  not  think  they  will  soon  be  ready  to  try 
the  same  again." 

But  the  great  Civil  War  brought  disaster  to  all 
theatres  and  to  all  players.  In  1647  an  imperative 
order  was  issued  by  the  authorities  to  close  the  play- 


DESDEMONA.  olf» 

houses,  and  every  one  who  disobeyed  was  threatened 
with  imprisonment.  Harsher  measures  were  soon  to 
follow.  An  ediet  appeared  pronouncing  all  players 
to  be  rogues  and  vagabonds,  authorizing  justices  to 
demolish  all  galleries  and  seats  of  theatres,  and  com- 
manding  that  any  actor  found  guilty  of  exereising 
his  vocation  should  be  whipped  for  the  first  offence, 
and  for  the  second  be  treated  as  an  habitual  crimi- 
nal ;  while  all  spectators  of  plays,  when  caught  red- 
handed,   were  to  be  fined  five  shillings. 

These  harsh  orders,  however,  could  not  wholly  sup- 
press public  amusements  :  and  frequently — secretly, 
but  with  peril  -  -  the  law  was  evaded.  Most  of  the 
actors,  finding  "  Othello's  occupation  gone,''  joined 
the  army,  and  fought  for  Royal  Charles  against  the 
great  forces  of  Parliament.  The  stern  but  powerful 
rule  of  Oliver  Cromwell  frowned  upon  theatres  and 
[•layers  with  unrelenting  visage  :  and  not  until  the 
Restoration  did  actors  come  fully  to  their  own  again, 
although  in  1656  Davenant,  supposed  to  have  been 
Shakespeare's  natural  son.  obtained  permission  to 
open  a  theatre  at  Rutland  House,  Charterhouse  Yard, 
when  and  where  he  brought  out  an  opera,  "The  Siege 
of  Rhodes."  The  Red  Bull  opened  in  1659;  and 
when  the  "  King  came  to  his  own  again,"'  there 
was  much  rejoicing  among  Thespians,  for  they  felt 


320  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

with  prophetic  certainty  that  a  glorious  morning  of  a 
new  era  had  dawned  after  a  long  and  stormy  night. 
They  were  right;  for  the  new  day  was  to  bring  to 
the  London  stage  one  of  the  greatest  of  actors,  one 
whose  name  and  fame  will  live  while  dramatic  his- 
tory is  written.      His  name  was  Thomas   Betterton. 

The  Blackfriars  and  Globe  Theatres  ended  their 
famous  dramatic  lives  in  1(!47.  The  Fortune  was 
abandoned  in  1661 ;  the  Cockpit  and  Red  Bull  in 
1663.  By  special  grant  two  new  theatres  were 
begun  in  1660,  one  in  Vere  Street.  Clare  Market, 
under  Killigrew's  management,  and  the  other  in 
Salisbury  Court,  governed  by  Davenant;  and  these 
were  the  two  playhouses  to  which  the  immortal 
Samuel  Pepys  went  so  often  to  relax  his  mind 
and   to  enjoy  his  favorite  actors. 

At  Killigrew's  house  appeared  those  players  who 
had  been  famous  as  boy  actresses.  Hart,  —  the  grand- 
son  of  Shakespeare's  sister  Joan.  —  Kynaston,  Chin, 
and  Burt.  At  Killigrew's  also  appeared  Mrs. 
Hughes,  who,  we  may  with  all  probability  assume, 
was  the  first  female  Desdemona  of  the  stage,  the 
first  woman  impersonator  of  a  Shakespearian  heroine, 
and  the  first  English  woman  to  act  in  any  character 
whatever. 

On  Nov.    8,  1060,  the   King's  Company  began  its 


DESDEMONA.  821 

performances  at  the  theatre  in  Vere  Street.  Exactly 
one  month  later,  Dec.  8,  u Othello"  was  brought  out 
for  the  first  time  that  season;  and  to  the  performance 
of  the  tragedy  was  added  "a  Prologue,  to  introduce 
the  first  woman  that  came  to  act  on  the  stage." 
Thomas  Jordan  was  the  author  of  the  prologue  and 
these  are  the  lines  in  which  he  speaks  of  the  novelty 
of  the  night :  — 

"  1  come,  unknown  to  any  of  the  rest, 
To  tell  you  news  ;   I  saw  the  lady  drest  ; 
The  woman  plays  to-day  ;  mistake  me  not, 
No  man  in  gown,  nor  page  in  petticoat  : 
A  woman  to  my  knowledge  ;  yet  I  can't, 
If  I  should  die.  make  affidavit  on  't. 

In  this  reforming  age 
We  have  intents  to  civilize  the  stage. 
Our  women  are  defective,  and  so  siz'd, 
You'd  think  they  were  some  of  the  guard  disguis'd  ; 
For,  to  speak  truth,  men  act,  that  are  between 
Forty  and  fifty,  wenches  of  fifteen  ; 
With  hone  so  large,  and  nerve  so  incompliant, 
When  you  call  Desdemona,  enter  Giant." 

Not  all  the  female  characters  were  at  once  given 
to  women.  Pepys,  who  failed  to  see  the  "  Othello  " 
production,  attended  the  theatre  on  the  subsequent 
3d  of  January,  and  .saw  the  "Beggar's  Bush"  "'well 
done;"  and  for  the  first  time  in  his  experience  saw 


322  SHAKESPK  A  i ;  e's  heroines. 

women  come  upon  the  stage.  The  very  next  night, 
Jan.  4,  he  saw  the  "  Scornful  Lady '  acted  with 
a  man  as  the  heroine.  But  the  change  had  begun, 
and  rapidly  grew  in  favor. 

Some  have  thought  that  Anne  Marshall,  the  dis- 
reputable daughter  of  the  Presbyterian  clergyman, 
Stephen  Marshall,  might  have  been  the  original 
Desdemona ;  but  the  greater  probability  points  to 
Prince  Rupert's  mistress,  the  beautiful  Margaret 
Hughes. 

"  A  mighty  pretty  woman/'  declared  Pepys,  who 
had  not  hesitated  to  kiss  her  in  the  theatre's  green- 
room, "a  mighty  pretty  woman,  who  seems,  but  is 
not,  modest."  In  truth  she  was  not.  First.  Dame 
Gossip  associated  her  name  with  Sir  Charles  Sed- 
ley,  the  atrocious  libertine  and  popular  playwright. 
Then,  eight  years  after  her  appearance  as  the  pure 
Desdemona.  Airs.  Hughes  drew  Prince  Rupert  from 
his  laboratory,  accepted  the  home  he  provided  for 
her,  and  swept  away  nearly  all  his  fortune  except 
the  X20,000  worth  of  jewels  that,  at  his  death, 
simply  served  to  pay  his  debts.  What  little  was  left 
to  the  woman  disappeared  at  the  gaming-tables  she 
frequented. 

The  daughter  of  this  Desdemona  and  of  the  Prince 
married   Gen.   E.  S.    Howe:    the   granddaughter  be- 


DESDEMONA.  320 

came  the  maid  of  honor  of  Caroline,  Princess  of 
Wales.  The  blood  of  the  noble  and  of  the  actress 
flows  to-day  in  the  family  of  Sir  Edward  Bromley. 

Probably  Mrs.  Hughes  was  the  Desdemona  at  that 
later  performance  when  Burt  acted  the  Moor  in 
such  vivid  way  that  the  pretty  lady,  sitting  be- 
side Mr.  Pepys,  "called  out  to  see  Desdemona 
smothered." 

Many  an  actor  since  that  day,  to  give  tremendous 
force  to  his  Othello,  has  made  poor  Desdemona  suffer. 
Of  John  Wilkes  Booth  in  the  character,  Kate  Reiern- 
olds-Winslow  tells  this  story  :  "  In  *  Othello,'  when, 
with  fiery  remorse,  lie  rushed  to  the  bed  of  Desde- 
mona after  the  murder,  I  used  to  gather  myself 
together  and  hold  my  breath,  lest  the  bang  his 
cimeter  gave  when  he  threw  himself  at  me  should 
force  me  back  to  life  with  a  shriek.  The  sharp 
dagger  seemed  so  dangerous  an  implement  in  the 
hands  of  such  a  desperado  that  I  lent  him  my  own  — 
a  spring  dagger,  with  a  blunt  edge,  which  is  forced 
back"  into  its  handle  if  it  is  actually  struck  against 
an  object." 

Mrs.  Kendal,  too,  has  an  interesting  story  to  relate 
regarding  her  experiences  as  a  child  Desdemona  to 
the  Moor  of  the  noted  negro  tragedian,  Ira  Aldridge. 
In  the  last  act,  she  saws,  he  used  to  take  Desdemona 


824  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

out  of  bed  by  her  hair,  and  drag  her  around  the  stage 
before  lie  smothered  her.  "You  had  to  wear  sandals 
and  toed  stockings  to  produce  the  effect  of  being 
undressed,"  are  Mrs.  Kendal's  words  ;  "I  remember 
very  distinctly  this  dragging  Desdemona  about  by 
the  hair  was  considered  so  brutal  that  it  was  loudly 
hissed." 

That  was  in  1865  when  Mrs.  Kendal,  or  as  she  is 
known  in  private  life,  Mrs.  Grimston,  was  practi- 
cally beginning  her  career.  Alluding  further  to  her 
Desdemona  she  says,  "Mr.  Aldridge  was  a  man  who, 
being  black,  always  picked  out  the  fairest  woman  he 
could  to  play  Desdemona  with  him,  not  because  she 
was  capable  of  acting  the  part,  but  because  she  had 
a  fair  head.  One  of  the  great  bits  of  k  business  *  that 
he  tised  to  do  was  where,  in  one  of  the  scenes,  he 
had  to  say,  "Your  hand,  Desdemona."  He  made  a 
verv  great  point  of  opening  his  hand  and  making 
you  place  yours  in  it ;  and  the  audience  used  to 
see  the  contrast.  He  always  made  a  point  of  it, 
and  got  a  round  of  applause  ;  how,  I  do  not  know. 
It  always  struck  me  that  lie  had  got  some  species 
of  -  -  well,  I  will  not  say  '  genius, '  because  I  dislike 
the  word  as  used  nowadays,  but  gleams  of  great 
intelligence.  Although  a  o-enuine  black,  he  was 
quite    preux    chevalier   in    his    manners    to    women. 


DESDEMONA.  325 

The    fairer  you   were,  the   more   obsequious   he    was 
to  you." 

Macready,  masterly  as  Iago,  but  not  remarkable  as 
Othello,  when  he  played  the  Moor  at  Paris,  removed 
the  scene  of  the  murder  of  his  Desdemona  (Helen 
Faucit)  from  the  eves  of  the  spectators,  by  having 
drapery  conceal  the  alcove  wherein  lay  the  bed. 
Then,  as  Emilia  called  to  him,  he  thrust  his  dark 
face  through  the  curtains,  giving  the  spectators  a 
shock  of  emotional  surprise  by  the  sudden  contrast 
of  color  against  the  light  drapery  background,  and 
a  sensational  thrill  by  the  despairing  expression  upon 
the  swarthy  face. 

Salvini  followed  out  the  same  idea,  because,  as  he 
maintained,  it  was  in  better  taste  not  to  show  the 
brutal  scene  to  the  spectators.  But  we  all  remem- 
ber, after  Miss  Marie  Wainwright  was  thus  left  to 
the  fate  of  Desdemona,  a  more  sensational  and  blood- 
curdling picture  than  a  smothering  scene,  presented 
by  the  enraged  Moor  seizing  his  bloody  cimeter  in 
both  hands,  as  he  stood  before  the  curtains  of  the 
bed,  and  swiftly  drawing  it  across  his  throat,  to 
light  to  left,  to  left  to  right,  until,  apparently,  the 
throat  was  horribly  cut,  and  death  made  certain. 

Fechter  brought  forward  Desdemona's  bed  upon  a 
dais,  and  then,  having  driven  his   victim  round  and 


326  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

round  the  stage,  while  his  drawn  blade  flashed  ahove 
his  head,  dragged  her  to  the  bed,  and  piling  pillow 
after  pillow  upon  her  face,  finally  knelt  upon  the 
murderous  instruments  of  down  until,  according  to 
the  prompt-book,  "  she  dies."  Perhaps  the  actress 
often  thought  that  the  stage  directions  were  to  be 
literally  followed  out. 

An  odd  little  story  is  told  of  Desdemona's  expe- 
rience on  the  French  stage  when  Ducis  adapted 
Shakespeare's  tragedy  for  Parisian  audiences.  The 
first  night  they  killed  the  sweet  lady,  according  to 
stage  directions.  But  at  that  scene  tender-hearted 
women  in  the  audience  fainted,  and  perfume-scented 
gentlemen  cried  down  its  roughness.  Therefore,  the 
complaisant  adapter  slashed  out  the  catastrophe,  and 
gave  a  happy  ending  to  the  play.  But  Talma,  artist 
that  he  was,  could  not  endure  such  mutilation. 

"  I  will  kill  her,*'  he  muttered,  as  he  strode  in 
anger  one  night  around  the  wings.  "  The  pit  do 
not  want  it,  they  say  ?  Well,  they  shall  see  it  and 
endure  it.     She  shall  be  killed." 

In  vain  Ducis,  overhearing  these  threats,  protested. 
Talma  was  obstinate;  that  night  Desdemona  died. 
The  magnificent  acting  of  the  great  player  was  too 
much  for  the  prejudices  of  the  audience,  and  there- 
after the  original  catastrophe  remained  in  the  play. 


DESDEMONA.  327 

Mrs.  Siddons  once  nearly  met  actual  death  on  the 
death-bed  of  Othello's  bride.  Some  one  had  neer- 
leeted  to  look  carefully  to  the  couch,  leaving  it  so 
damp  that,  from  lying  upon  it,  Mrs.  Siddons  con- 
tracted an  almost  fatal  rheumatic   fever. 

As  for  Mrs.  Siddons's  Desdemona  —  no  wonder 
Campbell,  unable  to  identify  the  players  for  the 
lack  of  a  playbill,  exclaimed,  as  he  saw  the  char- 
acter acted  with  exquisite  tenderness,  "This  soft, 
sweet  creature  cannot  be  Siddons ! "  Boaden  de- 
clared that,  in  her  acting  of  Desdemona,  so  soft- 
ened was  the  part  as  to  make  the  very  stature  of 
the  mighty  actress  seem  to  be  lowered  ;  while  Mrs. 
Siddons  herself  wrote,  in  a  letter  to  a  friend, 
"You  have  no  idea  how  the  innocence  and  playful 
simplicity  of  my  Desdemona  have  laid  hold  on  the 
hearts  of  the  people.  I  am  very  much  flattered  by 
this,  as  nobody  has  ever  done  anything  with  that 
character  before."  When  our  heroine  played  Des- 
demona in  London,  in  1785,  with  her  brother,  John 
Kemble,  acting  the  Moor,  in  a  British  general's  uni- 
form, she  was  getting  ten  guineas  a  week;  two  years 
later  her  salary  was  more  than  doubled. 

A  little  less  than  four  years  before  Sarah  Kemble 
was  born,  and  nearly  a  century  after  the  first  female 
Desdemona  appeared  on  the  English  stage,  America 


328  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

saw  its  first  heroine  of  "  Othello."  That  production 
of  the  great  tragedy  of  jealousy  in  New  York,  Dec. 
26,  1751,  by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Upton  and  their  sup- 
porters, but  for  the  earlier  performance  of  "Rich- 
ard III.,"  would  have  been  the  introduction  of 
Shakespeare  to  this  country. 

The  American  stage  was  in  its  infancy  at  that 
time.  Two  years  before,  in  August,  1749,  Addison's 
uCato"  had  been  played  in  Philadelphia,  marking 
then  the  beginning  of  theatrical  history  on  this  side 
of  the  Atlantic.  There  had  been  plays  given  in 
New  York  in  1732,  but  they  may  have  been  per- 
formed by  amateurs,  for  aught  we  know  to  the 
contrary,  while  it  is  certain  that  their  production 
gave  no  impetus  to  play-acting  here.  "  Cato  "  may 
be  assumed  as  the  starting-point  in  our  stage  history. 

The  Philadelphia  company,  headed  by  Thomas 
Kean,  a  writer  as  well  as  an  actor,  came  to  New 
York  in  1750,  and  in  that  city,  on  the  5th  of  March, 
opened  its  season  with  "Richard  III.,"  Kean  playing 
the  crook-backed  monarch.  A  year  later  the  troupe 
disbanded. 

Then  conies  to  these  shores  the  first  advance  aQ'ent 
that  American  history  knows,  Robert  Upton.  He 
was  a  treacherous  fellow.  Sent  here  by  Hallam  to 
prepare  the   road   for  the   proposed  American   Com- 


DESDEMONA.  :>>2'.» 

pany  of  that  enterprising  manager,  suave  Upton 
pocketed  the  money  intrusted  to  him  for  the  build- 
ing- of  a  theatre,  and.  neglecting  the  interests  of  his 
employer,  inaugurated  in  New  York  a  dramatic  sea- 
son with  himself  and  wife  as  stars.  ••Othello'7  was 
the  first  play  brought  out,  east  with  Upton  as 
Othello,  John  Tremain  as  Iago,  and  Mrs.  Upton 
as  Desdemona.  The  season  closed  in  a  few  weeks, 
and  our  first  Othello  and  Desdemona  of  America 
sailed  back  to  England  never  to  be  heard  of  more. 
Hallam's  players  came  to  the  Colonies  in  the  fall 
of  that  same  year,  1752,  opening  at  Williamsburg, 
Va.,  on  the  5th  of  September,  with  the  "Merchant 
of  Venice."  Strangely  enough  "Othello"  is  the 
only  other  play,  during  the  Williamsburg  season, 
of  which  even  a  line  of  record  can  be  found.  That 
tragedy  is  known  to  have  been  played,  through  the 
publication,  in  the  Maryland  Gazette  of  Nov.  17, 
1752,  of  the  following  item  of  news:  -The  Emperor 
of  the  Cherokee  nation,  with  his  Empress  and  their 
son,  the  young  Prince,  attended  by  several  of  his 
warriors  and  great  men  and  their  ladies,  were  re- 
ceived at  the  palace  by  his  honor  the  Governor, 
attended  by  such  of  the  council  as  were  in  town  on 
Thursday,  the  9th  inst..  with  all  the  marks  of  cour- 
tesy and  friendship,  and    that    evening  were    enter- 


330  SHAKESPEARE'S    HEROINES. 

tained  at  the  theatre  with  the  play,  the  tragedy  of 
'Othello,'  and  a  pantomime  performance,  which 
gave  them  great  surprise,  as  did  the  lighting  with 
naked  swords  on  the  stage,  which  occasioned  the 
Empress  to  order  some  about  her  to  go  and  pre- 
vent them  killing  one  another." 

Mr.  Malone  was  undoubtedly  the  dusky  gentle- 
man with  the  naked  sword  who  thus  helped  alarm 
the  "Empress"  of  the  Indians,  and  Mr.  lligby  was 
probably  the  other  quarrelsome  worthy,  Iago ;  while 
Mrs.  Hallam,  a  Desdemona  of  the  English  stage,  was 
the  original  of  that  character  in  the  first  regularly 
organized  American  company. 

Nine  years  later  our  heroine  (then  Mrs.  Douglass) 
was  compelled  to  yield  Desdemona  to  Mrs.  Morris, 
and  to  take  in  its  stead  the  role  of  Emilia.  The  odd 
program  of  that  date,  June  10,  1761,  is  worth  re- 
printing, since  it  illustrates  the  cunning  ways  to 
which  the  performers  of  those  early  days  were  often 
obliged  to  resort,  in  order  to  overcome  a  widespread 
sentiment,  held  by  the  goodly  people  of  certain  towns, 
against  the  wicked  sin  of  play-acting.  In  some 
places  the  law  prohibited  acting,  in  others  moral 
sentiment  was  equally  effective.  For  one  reason  or 
another  this  production  of  -Othello"  at  Newport  was 
thus  disguised :  — 


DESDEMONA.  8ol 


KINO'S    ARMS    TAVERN.    NEWPORT.    RHODE    ISLAND. 

On  Monday.  June  LOth,  at  the  Public  Room  of  the  Above  Inn, 

will  be  delivered  a  Scries  of 

MORAL   DIALOGUES, 

IX    FIVE    PARTS, 

Depicting  the  Evil  Effects  of  Jealousy  and  Other  Bad  Pas- 
sions, and   Proving  that  Happiness  can  only 
Spring  from  the  Pursuit  of  Virtue. 

Mb.  Douglass  will  represent  a  noble  and  magnanimous  Moor 

named  Othello,  who  loves  a  young  lady  named  Desdemona,  and, 
after  he  has  married  her,  harbours  (as  in  too  many  cases)  the 
dreadful  passion  of  jealousy. 

of  Jealousy  our  being's  bane, 

Mark  the  small  cause  and  the  most   dreadful   pain. 

Mi:.  Allyn  will  depict  the  character  of  a  specious  villain  in  the 
regiment  of  Othello,  who  is  so  base  as  to  hate  his  commander 
on  mere  suspicion,  and  to  impose  on  his  best  friend.  Of  such 
characters,  it  is  to  be  feared,  there  are  thousands  in  the  world, 
and  the  one  in  question  may  present  to  us  a  salutary  warning. 

The  man  that   wrongs  his  master  and  his  friend, 
What  can  he  come  to  but  a  shameful  end  '.' 

Mi:.  HALLAM  will  delineate  a  young  and  thoughtless  officer,  who 
is  traduced  by  Mr.  Allyn,  and,  getting  drunk,  loses  his  situa- 
tion and  his  general's  esteem.  All  young  men,  whatsoever, 
take  example  from  Cassio. 

The  ill  effects  of  drinking  would  you  see? 
Be  warned  and  keep  from  evil  company. 


332  Shakespeare's  heroines. 

Mr.  Mokkis  will  represent  an  old  gentleman,  the  father  of  Des- 
demona,  who  is  not  cruel  or  covetous,  hut  is  foolish  enough 
to  dislike  the  noble  Moor,  his  son-in-law,  because  his  face  is 
not  white,  forgetting  that  we  all  spring  from  one  root.  Such 
prejudices  are  very  numerous  and  very  wrong. 

Fathers,  beware  what  sense  and  love  ye  lack, 
'Tis  crime,  not  color,  makes  the  being  black. 

Mi;.  Quelcb  will  depict  a  fool  who  wishes  to  become  a  knave, 
and  trusting  one  gets  killed  by  him.  Such  is  the  friendship  of 
rogues  —  take  heed. 

When  fools  would  knaves  become,  how  often  you'll 
Perceive  the  knave  not  wiser  than  the  fool. 

Mrs.  Mokkis  will  represent  a  young  and  virtuous  wife,  who, 
being  wrongfully  suspected,  gets  smothered  (in  an  adjoining 
room)  by  her  husband. 

Reader,  attend;  and  ere  thou  goest  hence, 
Let  fall  a  tear  to  hapless  innocence. 

Mrs.  Douglass  will  be  her  faithful  attendant,  who  will  hold  out 
a  good  example  to  all  servants,  male  and  female,  and  to  all 
people  in  subjection. 

Obedience  and  gratitude 

Are  things  as  rare  as  they  are  good. 

VARIOUS   OTHER    DIALOGUES, 

too  numerous  to  mention  here,  will  be  delivered  at  night,  all 
adapted  for  the  improvement  of  the  mind  and  manners.  The 
whole  will  be  repeated  on  Wednesday  and  Saturday.  Tick- 
ets 6  shillings  each,  to  be  had  within.  Commencement  at  7. 
conclusion  at  10.30,  in  order  that  every  spectator  may  go  home 


DESDEMONA.  333 

at  a  sober  hour  and  reflect  upon  what  he  has  seen  before  he 
retires  to  rest. 

God  save  the  King, 

And  long  may  he  Sfl  ay, 
East,  north.,  and  south. 

And  fair  America. 

Many  and  many  a  theatrical  "young  and  virtuous 
wife  "  since  that  day  has  been  smothered  upon  the 
stage,  some  like  Mrs.  Morris  in  "an  adjoining  room," 
but  more  in  full  sight  of  the  audience.  With  these 
Desdemonas  of  later  years,  however,  we  will  not  con- 
cern ourselves.  The  glories  of  the  play  belong  to 
Othello  and  to   Iago. 


INDEX. 


Abington,  Mrs.,  as  Beatrice 
to  Henderson's  Benedick,  33; 
sketch,  33 ;  "  Abington  Cap  " 
named  in  her  honor,  33 ;  plays 
Beatrice  at  the  age  of  three- 
score, 34;  trouble  with  Gar- 
rick,  37 ;  as  the  Comic  Muse, 
192;  as  Portia,  246. 

Addison,  Miss  Laura,  as 
Juliet,  21;  death,  21;  as 
Viola,  101;  as  Imogen,  128; 
as  Rosalind,  155;  as  Portia, 
255 ;  as  Katharina,  278. 

Aldridge,  Ira,  as  Othello, 
323,  324. 

Allen,  Mr.,  as  Petruchio,  277. 

Allen,  Mrs.,  as  Katharina, 
277. 

Allyn,  Mr.,  as  Iago,  331. 

Alsop,  Mrs.  Frances,  as 
Rosalind,  141 ;  sketch,  141. 

Anderson,  James  R.,  as  Or- 
lando, 144;  as  Antony,  188. 

Anderson,  Mary,  first  ap- 
pearance on  the  stage  as 
Juliet,  28;  as  Hermione  and 
Perdita,  59,  78;  acting  of 
Perdita  her  last  character  on 


the  stage,  79,  80;  as  Rosa- 
lind, 159;  opinion  of  William 
Archer,  100. 

Anderson,  Mrs.  (Ophelia 
Pelby),  as  Rosalind,  155; 
small  salary,  222. 

Anderton,  Miss,  as  Juliet,  25. 

Atkinson,  Miss,  as  Lady  Mac- 
beth, Queen  Katharine,  and 
Hermione,  73;  as  Catherine, 
272;  sketch,  272;  as  the 
Queen  in  "Hamlet,"  273; 
as  Emilia  in  "  Othello,"  274. 

Ayrton,  Miss  Fanny,  as 
(  atherine,  209. 

Baddeley,  Mrs.  Robert  (So- 
phia Snow),  as  Imogen,  119; 
debut  as  Ophelia,  294;  sketch, 
294;  elopement,  295;  refused 
admission  to  the  Pantheon, 
290;  death,  297. 

Baddeley,  Robert,  elope- 
ment with  Sophia  Snow.  295. 

Bakeb,  Miss,  first  Ophelia  in 
Boston,  308;  romance  of  her 
marriage,  309. 

Baker,  Mrs.  Alexina 
Fisher,  as  Ophelia,  310. 


335 


336 


INDEX. 


Bannister,  Jack,  plays  with 
Mrs.  Siddons,  301. 

Bannister,  Mrs.,  as  Rosalind, 
156. 

Barrett,  "Gentleman 
George,"  H.,  as  Benedick, 
52. 

Barrett,  Mrs.  George  H. 
(Mrs.  Henry),  as  Juliet,  22; 
as  Viola,  89;  sketch,  89;  as 
Imogen,  109;  as  Rosalind, 
155. 

Barrett,  Giles  Leonard, 
deserts  his  first  wife,  202 ;  as 
Shylock,  262. 

Barrett,  Mrs.  Giles  Leon- 
ard (Mrs.  Belfield),  as  Portia 
to  her  husband's  Shylock, 
262;  as  Portia  to  Macklin's 
Shylock,  262 ;  sketch,  262. 

Barrett,  Lawrence,  as  Po- 
lixenes,  Florizel,  and  Leon- 
tes,  77;  as  Sebastian,  86; 
as  Shylock,  263;  manages 
tour  of  Booth  and  Modjeska, 
312;  death,  316. 

Barrett,  Mrs.  Wilson.  See 
Miss  Caroline  Heath. 

Barrow,  Mrs.  Julia  Ben- 
nett, as  Juliet,  22;  as  Bea- 
trice, 54;  as  Viola,  88;  sketch, 
88;  as  Imogen,  109;  as  Rosa- 
lind, 158;  as  Portia,  263;  as 
Ophelia,  310. 

Barry,  Mrs.  Elizabeth,  as 
Cleopatra,  177;  as  Lady  Mac- 
beth, 194. 


Barry,  Spranger,  as  Romeo 
to  Mrs.  Cibber's  Juliet,  1;  as 
Florizel,  67;  as  Jaques,  134, 
135. 

Barry,  Mrs.  Spranger  (Mrs. 
Dancer,  Mrs.  Crawford),  as 
Beatrice,  34,  37;  as  Viola, 
93;  personal  appearance,  94; 
as  Imogen,  118;  sketch,  118; 
as  Rosalind,  133;  as  Portia, 
246;  as  Catherine,  267. 

Barry,  Mrs.  Thomas,  as 
Rosalind,  155. 

Bartley,  George,  as  Auto- 
lycus  to  his  wife's  Hermione, 
75. 

Bartley,  Mrs.  George  (Miss 
Smith),  the  original  Her- 
mione in  America,  75 ;  mind 
weakened,  75;  sketch,  75  ; 
as  Imogen,  123;  as  Rosalind, 
143;  as  Portia,  254. 

Bate,  Parson,  249. 

BATEMAN,KATE(Mrs.  Crowe), 
as  Juliet,  26;  as  Lady  Mac- 
beth, 206. 

Belfield,  Mrs.  See  Mrs. 
Giles  Leonard  Barrett. 

Belgarde,  Adele,  as  Rosa- 
lind, 160. 

B  e  l  l  a  m  y,  Mrs.  George 
Anne,  as  Juliet,  1;  rivalry 
with  Mrs.  Cibber,  2;  sketch, 
4;  carried  off  by  Metham,  4; 
abducted  by  an  earl,  5;  last 
night  in  her  stage  career, 
6;     loss    of     her    Cleopatra 


INDEX. 


337 


costume,  ITS;  as  Cleopatra, 
ITS;  quarrel  with  Peg  Wof- 
fington,  291. 

Bellew,  Kyrle,  as  Antony, 
174. 

Bensley,  W.,  as  Malvolio,  94; 
as  Cardinal  Wolsey,  231. 

Bernhardt,  Sarah,  as  Cleo- 
patra, 174,  189. 

Betterton,  Thomas,  marries 
Miss  Saunderson,  227;  as 
Hamlet,  287;  on  the  London 
stage,  320. 

Betterton,  Mrs.  Thomas. 
See  Miss  Saunderson. 

Blake,  W.  R.,  small  salary,  222. 

Bland,  Mi:.,  as  Sebastian,  87; 
as  Enobarbus,  168. 

Bland,  Mrs.  W.  Humphrey, 
as  Rosalind,  155;  as  Cleo- 
patra, 168. 

Bond,  Frederick,  as  Tranio, 
280. 

Booth,  Agnes,  as  Rosalind, 
159;  as  Cleopatra,  172;  as 
Katharina,  278. 

Booth,  Barton,  alliance  with 
Susan  Mountfort,  286;  as 
Hamlet,  288. 

Booth,  Mrs.  Barton,  as 
Ophelia,  288,  297. 

Booth,  Edwin,  as  Benedick, 
56;  as  Shylock,  128,  263; 
stars  with  Mine.  Modjeska, 
224.  22.") ;  as  Macbeth,  with 
Charlotte  Cushman  and  Bis- 
tori,  225;  as  Petruchio,  21')."). 


278;  as  Hamlet  al  Wallack's 
testimonial,  310;  death,  316. 

Booth,  Mrs.  Edwin.  See 
Mary  Devlin  and  Mary  Mc- 
Vicker. 

I  toon i,  J.  B.,  the  elder,  man- 
ager of  the  Tremont  Theatre 
Boston,  52;  as  Iachimo,  16'.). 

Hi  Mini,  John  Wilkes,  as  Pe- 
truchio, 265;  as  Othello,  323. 

Boothby,  Lady.  See  Mrs. 
Nisbett. 

Boutell,  Mrs.,  as  the  Cleo- 
patra of  Dryden's  play,  176. 

Bowers,  Mrs.  D.  P.  (Miss 
Crocker),  as  Juliet,  25;  as 
Octavia,  168;  as  Lady  Mac- 
beth, 213. 

Boyle,  Miss,  as  Rosalind,  143. 

Bracegirdle,  Mrs., as  Portia, 
245 ;  attempted  abduction  of, 
24:>. 

Bradshaw,  Mrs.  See  Maria 
Tree. 

Brereton,  William,  in  love 
with  Mrs.  Siddons,  298;  death 
in  a  madhouse,  301. 

Brereton,  Mrs.  William, 
marriage  to  Mr.  Kemble,  301. 

Bride,  Miss,  as  Imogen,  115. 

Brook,  Mrs.,  in  Rosina,  151. 

Brooke,  Gustavus  V.,  death 
at  sea,  217;  as  Shylock,  262. 

Brooke,  Mrs.  Gtjstavus  V. 
See  Miss  Avonia  Jones. 

Brunton, Elizabeth,  as  Pea- 
trice,  40. 


338 


INDEX. 


Beuxtox,  Louisa  (Lady 
(raven),  as  Beatrice,  39; 
sketch,  39. 

Brunton,  Miss,  as  Rosalind, 

14:;. 

Buckstone,  John  Baldwin, 

as  Grumio,  270. 
Bulkley,    Mils.,    as    Perdita, 

02;  as  Viola,  94;  as  Imogen, 

120;  scene  with   Dodd,  120; 

as  Rosalind,  135. 
Bullock,    Mrs.,    as    Eugenia 

( Imogen),  114. 
Brxx.  Mrs.     See  Miss  Somer- 

ville. 
Bcrbadge,      Richard,      the 

original  Romeo,  8. 
Burroughs,  Chief  Justice, 

incident  in  early  life,  38. 
Burt,  boy  actress,  320. 
Burton,  William  E.,  as  the 

Grave-digger  in    "Hamlet,*' 

310;  as  Sir  Toby  in  "  Twelfth 

Night,"  86. 
Butlei;,    Mrs.  Pierce.      See 

Frances  Ann  Kemble. 
Byron,    Oliver    Doup,   acts 

with  Ada  Rehan,  85. 
Caldwell,    J.    H.,    as  Bene- 
dick, 52. 
Campbell,    Mrs.      See   Miss 

Wallis. 
Capell,    Edward,    his    new 

version     of     "Antony     and 

Cleopatra,"  181. 
Carey,  Eleanor,  as  Ophelia, 

310. 


Cavendish,  Miss  Ada,  as 
Beatrice,  49  ;  as  Rosalind, 
14(3,  163. 

Chalmeks,  Mi:.,  as  Petruchio, 
277. 

Ciiaxfrau,  Mrs.  Frank,  as 
Ophelia,  310. 

Charke,  Mrs.,  describes  the 
"  Cymbeline  "  revival  of  1744, 
114;  writes  of  her  daughter, 
Mrs.  Harman,  307. 

Cheer,  Miss  Margaret,  the 
first  Imogen  in  America,  106, 
117;  as  Cleopatra,  166;  as 
Lady  Macbeth,  212 ;  as  Portia, 
258 ;  first  Katharina  of  Amer- 
ica, 274;  sketch,  274;  mar- 
ries Lord  Rosehill,  275;  re- 
appears on  the  stage  as  Mrs. 
Long,  276;  as  Katharina, 
275,  277;  receives  legacy 
from  Mrs.  Harman,  308. 

Cibber,  Mrs.  Theopiiilus 
(Susannah  Arne),  as  Juliet, 
1;  sketch,  7;  as  Perdita,  61; 
Handel's  admiration  for,  61; 
as  Ophelia,  288,  297. 

Clare,  Ada,  as  Iras,  170. 

Clark,  Annie,  as  Rosalind, 
159. 

Clifton,  Ada  (Mrs.  Mollen- 
hauer),  as  Hermione,  76;  as 
Katharina,  278;  as  Ophelia, 
310. 

Clifton,  Josephine,  as  Rosa- 
lind, 156;  sketch,  156. 


INDEX. 


339 


CLIVE,  Kitty,  delivers  an  at- 
tack upon  Garrick,  2;  as 
Celia,  134;  as  Portia,  237; 
spite  against  Grarrick,  240; 
as  Catherine,  267;  as  Ophelia 
to  Garrick's  Hamlet,  292,  298. 

Closel,  Mme.,  amusing  ex- 
perience with  Charlotte  Cush- 
man,  220. 

Clun,  hoy  actress,  320. 

Coghlan,  Charles,  as  An- 
tony, 175;  as  Shylock,  255. 

Coghlan,  Rose,  as  Rosalind, 
159,  162. 

Coleman-Pope, Mrs., as  Lady 
Macbeth  on  the  night  of  the 
Astor  Place  Riot,  214. 

Conway,  Mrs.,  as  Beatrice, 
55. 

Cooke,  George  Frederick, 
as  Shylock,  250. 

Cooper,  Miss  Fanny,  as  Bea- 
trice, 49;  as  Rosalind,  145. 

Cooper,  Thomas  A.,  as  Iachi- 
mo,  12(3;  as  Adam,  144;  as 
Macbeth,  222;  as  Petruchio, 
278. 

Couldock,  C.  W.,  as  Jaques, 
154;  as  Dunstan  Kirke,  155; 
as  Petruchio,  278. 

Cramer,  Mrs.,  as  Rosalind, 
155. 

Cramptox,  Charlotte,  as 
Rosalind,  155;  as  Lady  Mac- 
beth, 217. 

Crawford,  Mr.,  as  Petruchio, 
268. 


Crawford,  Mrs.  See  Mrs. 
Spranger  Barry. 

Creswick,  Wm.,  "doubles" 
the  characters  of  Benedick 
and  Dogberry,  50. 

Crocker,  Miss.  See  Mrs.  D. 
P.  Bowers. 

Cross,  Mrs.,  as  Beatrice,  34. 

Crouch,  Mrs.  (Miss  Phillips), 
as  Perdita,  66;  as  Imogen, 
126;  protected  by  J.  P. 
Kemble,  126;  as  Cleopatra, 
184. 

Cro  well-Cruise,  Mrs. 
Anna,  the  last  surviving 
Juliet  to  Charlotte  Cush- 
man's  Romeo,  26;  one  of  the 
company  that  played  the 
last  piece  at  the  old  Federal 
Street  Theatre  of  Boston,  26, 
27;  as  Juliet  to  Fanny  Wal- 
lack's  Romeo,  27;  as  Rosa- 
lind, 157. 

Cummings,  Minnie,  as  Juliet, 
27. 

Cushman,  Charlotte,  visits 
England,  24;  as  Lady  Mac- 
beth, Emilia,  and  Rosalind, 
24;  as  Romeo,  25;  exploit 
with  a  disturber  at  the  Na- 
tional in  Boston,  26;  as  Bea- 
trice, 55 ;  as  Viola,  101 ;  as 
Rosalind,  154;  as  Lady  Mac- 
beth, 212,  218,  225;  criticisms 
by  Macready,  Ball,  Yanden- 
boff,  and  Lawrence  Barrett, 
218,  219;   sketch,  219;   fare- 


340 


INDEX. 


well  apjtearance  and  death, 
221;  as  Queen  Katharine, 
233,  23."),  23G;  as  Portia,  262- 

Cushman,  Susan,  as  Juliet, 
25;  as  Olivia,  101. 

Dallas,  Mrs.  E.  S.  See  Isa- 
bel Glyn. 

Daly,  Augustin,  revival  of 
"  The  Taming  of  the  Shrew," 
274. 

Daly,  F.,  as  Iachimo,  109. 

Dancer,  Mrs.  See  Mrs. 
Spranger  Barry. 

Darley,  Mrs.,  as  Katharina, 
278. 

Davexaxt,  Sir  William,  his 
version  of  "  Much  Ado  About 
Nothing "  combined  with 
"Measure  for  Measure,*"  35; 
opens  new  theatre,  319. 

Davenport,  Mrs.  A.  H.  See 
Lizzie  Weston. 

Davenport,  E.  L.,  as  Bene- 
dick, 40;  as  Jaques,  157;  as 
Shylock,  262;  as  Hamlet, 
310. 

Davenport,  Mrs.  E.  L.,  as 
Rosalind,  157;  as  Lady  Mac- 
beth, in  her  sixty-fifth  year. 
115;  sketch,  215;  as  Ophelia, 
310. 

Davenport,  Fanny,  as  Juliet, 
27;  as  Beatrice,  56;  as  Imo- 
gen, 112;  as  Rosalind,  159; 
as  Sardou's  Cleopatra,  184, 
189;  sketch,  215;  as  Katha- 
rina, 278. 


Davenport,  Jean  (Mrs.  Lan- 
der), as  Rosalind,  140,  15G; 
in  the  Rebellion,  156;  as 
Lady  Macbeth,  218. 

Davies,  Tom,  as  Cymbeline, 
116;  driven  from  the  stage 
by  Churchill,  116;  sums  up 
the  Ophelias,  297. 

Dean,  Julia  (Mrs.  Paul 
Hayne),  as  Juliet,  22  ;  as 
Cleopatra,  170;  sketch,  170. 

De  Bar,  Blanche,  as  Ophelia, 
310. 

Decamp,  Miss.  See  Mrs. 
Charles   Kemble. 

Decamp,  young,  as  Arvira- 
gus,  123,  124. 

De  Grey,  Marie,  as  Rosalind, 
146. 

De  Kempe,  N.,  the  original 
Dogberry,  35. 

Derby,  Countess  of.  See 
Elizabeth  Farren. 

Devlin,  Mary  (Mrs.  Edwin 
Booth),  as  Juliet  to  Miss 
Cushman' s  Romeo,  25;  mar- 
riage to  Edwin  Booth,  25. 

Devrient,  Fritz,  as  Hamlet, 
311. 

Dickson,  Mrs.  J.  H.  See 
Miss  Harrison. 

Dodd,  as  Sir  Andrew  Ague- 
cheek,  94;  anecdote  of,  99; 
scene  with  Mrs.  Bulkley, 
120. 

Dog  get,  Mr.  Thomas,  as  Shy- 
lock,  238. 


INDEX. 


341 


Douglass,  David,  as  manager 
of  John  Street  Theatre,  165; 
as  the  Ghost  in  "Hamlet," 
300;  as  Othello,  331. 

Douglass,  Mrs.  (Mrs.  Lewis 
Hallam),  as  Juliet,  16;  sup- 
planted by  Miss  Cheer,  106; 
the  first  Lady  Macbeth  in 
America,  21:2;  as  Portia,  245, 
257;  sketch,  257;  as  Lady 
Randolph,  274;  as  the  Queen 
in  "Hamlet,"  306;  yields 
Desdemona  to  Mrs.  Morris, 
330;  as  Emilia,  332. 

Dreher,  Virginia,  as  Bi- 
anca,  280. 

Drew,  John,  asPetruchio,  280. 

Drew.  Mrs.  John,  as  Rosa- 
lind, 157. 

Ducis,  adapts  "Othello"  for 
Parisian  audiences,  320. 

Duff,  Mrs.,  as  Juliet,  22; 
sketch,  22;  strange  marriage 
with  the  actor,  Charles 
Young,  22 ;  her  marriage  an- 
nulled, and  she  marries  Joel 
G.  Sevier  of  New  Orleans, 
23;  as  Rosalind,  152,  153;  as 
Lady  Macbeth,  212,  221;  as 
Queen  Katharine,  233,  234; 
refuses  the  hand  of  Tom 
Moore,  234;  as  Portia,  262; 
as  Katharina,  278. 

Duncan,  Miss,  as  Rosalind, 
142. 

D'Urfey,  Tom,  produces  a 
version  of  "  Cymbeline,"  114. 


D'Urfrey,  Grace,  as  Juliet, 

27. 

Dyas,  Ada,  as  Juliet,  27. 

Dyott,  John,  as  Octavius 
Caesar,  168. 

Elliston,  Mr.,  as  Orlando, 
143. 

Evans,  Miss  Rose,  as  Rosa- 
lind, 157. 

Eytinge,  Rose,  as  Cleopatra, 
172;  marriage  to  nephew  of 
General  Butler,  172;  sketch, 
173. 

Farren,  Elizabeth  (Count- 
ess of  Derby),  sketch,  38; 
marriage  of  her  daughter  to 
the  Earl  of  Wilton,  39;  as 
Hermione,  65;  creates  char- 
acter of  Rosara  in  the  "  Bar- 
ber of  Seville,"  (Jd;  as  Rosa- 
lind, 143;  as  Portia,  250. 

Farren,  Mrs.,  as  Lady  Mac- 
beth, 218. 

Farren,  "William,  as  Shy- 
lock,  251. 

Faucit,  Helen  (Lady  Theo- 
dore Martin),  debut  as  Juliet, 
10;  marriage,  20,  203;  as 
Beatrice  at  the  age  of  sixty- 
nine,  46;  last  appearance  on 
the  stage,  47;  as  Hermione, 
71;  as  Imogen,  126,  128;  as 
Rosalind,  144,  145,  149;  as 
Lady  Macbeth,  202;  sketch, 
202;  as  Portia,  254;  as  Cath- 
erine, 274;  as  Desdemona, 
325. 


342 


INDEX. 


Faucit,  Mrs.,  as  Hermione, 
70;  as  Paulina,  71,  74;  as 
Cleopatra,  182. 

Fechter,  Charles,  as  Or- 
lando, 145;  as  Othello,  325, 
326. 

Field,  Mrs.,  original  imper- 
sonator in  America  of  Julia 
in  "The  Hunchback. "'  25; 
as  Juliet  to  Cushman's  Ro- 
meo,  26. 

Fisher,  Charles,  as  Malvo- 
lio,  86;  as  Baptista,  280;  as 
the  Ghost,  310. 

Fisher,  Clara  (Mrs.  Mseder), 
as  Beatrice,  52;  as  Viola,  88; 
personal  appearance,  89. 

Fitzhexky,  Mrs.  (Mrs.  Greg- 
ory), as  Lady  Macbeth  and 
Catherine,  267. 

Fleming,  Mrs.  W.  M.,  as 
Rosalind,  157. 

Flynx,  Mrs.  Thomas,  as 
Rosalind,  157. 

Fontexelle,  Miss.  See  Mrs. 
Williamson. 

Foote,  Maria  (Countess  of 
Harrington),  as  Beatrice,  40; 
sketch,  40;  as  Imogen,  123; 
as  Rosalind,  143. 

Foote,  Samuel,  compliments 
.Mrs.  Baddeley,  295. 

Ford,  Miss.  See  Mrs.  John 
Johnson. 

Forrest,  Edwin,  as  Macbeth, 
214;  discards  Shylock,  262. 


Forrest,  Mrs.  Edwix.  See 
Mrs.  Sinclair. 

Francis,  Mrs.,  as  Katharina, 
277. 

Frodsham,  Miss,  as  Rosalind, 
137. 

Frodsham,  Mr.,  the  York 
Roscius,  137. 

Furxival,  Mrs.,  as  Octavia, 
178 ;  revenge  onMrs.  Bellamy, 
178. 

Gale,  Minna,  as  Rosalind, 
161;  as  Ophelia,  310,  315, 
316;  sketch,  315. 

Garnier,  M.,  as  Sardou's  An- 
tony, 189. 

Garrick,  David,  as  Romeo 
to  Mrs.  Bellamy's  Juliet,  1; 
as  Romeo  to  Mrs.  Gibber's 
Juliet,  8;  as  Benedick  to 
Mrs.  Pritchard's  Beatrice, 
34;  jealousy  of  Mrs.  Pritch- 
ard,  36;  marriage,  36;  tor- 
mented by  Younge,  Yates, 
and  Abingt on,  37 ;  as  Leontes, 
61 ;  his  alterations  in  the 
"Winter's  Tale,"  61;  alters 
"Cymbeline,"  115;  as  Pos- 
tlmmus,  11(5;  as  Lear,  121; 
as  Antony,  181;  as  Macbeth, 
193,  201 ;  fear  of  Kitty  Clive's 
sarcasm,  240;  brings  out  his 
version  of  "The  Taming  of 
the  Shrew,"  266;  as  Hamlet, 
292. 

Garrick,  Mrs.  David.  See 
Mademoiselle  Violette. 


INDKX. 


343 


Germon,  Effie,  as  Ophelia, 
310. 

Gebmon,  Mrs.  G.  C,  as  Cliar- 
mian,  169. 

Giffard,  Mrs.,  as  Hermione, 
GO;  becomes  manager's  wife, 
75. 

Gilbert,  Mrs.  G.  II.,  as  Cur- 
tis, 280. 

Gilbert,  John,  debut,  52;  as 
Balarius,  10!);  as  Mr.  Hard- 
castle,  1(59. 

Gilbert,  William,  as  Chris- 
topher Sly,  280. 

Gilfort,  Mrs.  Charles  (Miss 
Ilolman),  as  Beatrice,  52; 
sketch,  52. 

Glover,  Mks.,  as  Portia,  252; 
as  Hamlet,  252. 

Glyn,  Isabel  (Mrs.  E.  S. 
Dallas),  as  Beatrice,  40;  as 
Hermione,  72;  death,  72;  as 
Rosalind,  145;  reads  '"An- 
tony and  Cleopatra,"  172;  as 
Cleopatra,  186;  as  Lady  Mac- 
beth, 205;  as  Queen  Katha- 
rine, 233;  as  Portia,  255. 

Godwin,  Me.,  as  Petruchio, 
277. 

Goodman,  Mr.,  as  Petruchio, 
277. 

Graham,  Mrs.  See  Mrs. 
Richard  Yates. 

Granger,  Maude,  as  Juliet, 
27. 

Green,  Miss.  See  Miss  Hippes- 
ley. 


Gregory, Miss.  See  Mrs.  Fitz- 
henry. 

Gri.mam,  Julia,  as  Juliet,  12; 
sketch,  12. 

Grimston,  Mrs.  See  Mrs.  W. 
II.  Kendal. 

Hale,  Mrs.,  as  Perdita,  60. 

Hallam,  Lewis,  prepares  his 
American  Company,  328. 

Hallam,  Mrs.  Lewis.  See 
Mrs.  Douglass. 

Hallam,  Lewis,  Jr.,  as  Ben- 
edick, 51 ;  as  Clown  in  "  ( Com- 
edy of  Errors,"  91;  the  first 
Macbeth  in  America,  212;  as 
Antonio,  259;  as  Petruchio, 
275,  277;  as  Hamlet,  300;  as 
Cassio,  331. 

Hallam,  Mrs.  Lewis,  Jr.,  as 
Olivia,  91. 

Hallam,  Miss,  as  Imogen, 
110,  111. 

Hamblin,  Mr.,  as  Petruchio, 
278. 

Hamilton,  Mrs.  ("Tripe  "), 
as  Rosalind,  136. 

Harman,  Catharine  Maria, 
first  impersonator  of  Ophelia 
in  America,  306;  sketch,  307. 

Harman,  Mr,,  as  Polonius, 
306. 

Harper,  Mr.,  as  Petruchio, 
277. 

Harrington,  Countess  of. 
See  Maria  Foote, 

Harris,  Joseph,  as  Romeo,  9. 


344 


INDEX. 


Harrison,  Miss  (Mrs.  J.  H. 

Dickson),  as  Celia,  152. 
Harrison,  Miss  Elizabeth. 

See  Mrs.  Snelling  Powell. 
Hart,     grandson     of     Shake- 
speare's    sister     Joan,     boy 

actress,  320. 
Hartley,  Mrs.,  as  Hermione, 

63;  as  Cleopatra,  177. 
Harwood,    Mi:.,    one   of    the 

original  Dromios  in  America, 

91. 
Hawkins,     Professoi:,      his 

version  of  "  Cymbeline,"  114. 
Hayne,     Mrs.      Paul.     See 

Jnlia  Dean. 
Heath,  Miss  Caroline  (Mrs. 

Wilson   Barrett),    as    Hero, 

48;  as  Florizel,  74. 
IIknderson,  John,  forgetful- 

ness    in     Benedick,    32;    as 

Shylock,  250. 
Henderson,   Mrs.,    as   Lady 

Macbeth,     212;     as     Portia, 

262. 
Henry,     John,     matrimonial 

escapades,  107;    as  Shylock, 

259,  260;  death,  260. 
Henry,  Mrs.,  the  first,  lost  at 

sea,  167. 
Henry,  Mi:s.,the  second  (Ann 

Storer),  as  Octavia,  167. 
Henry,  Mrs., the  third  (Maria 

Storer),    in     "  Antony    and 

Cleopatra,"  167;   as   Portia, 

260;  sad  death,  200. 


Henry,  Mrs.    See  Mrs.  George 

II.  Barrett. 
Heron,    Matilda,    as    Lady 

Macbeth,  217. 
Hickes,  Miss,  first  appearance 

on  any  stage  as  Perdita,  67. 
Hilton,  Mr.,  as  Autolycus,  70. 
Hilton,  Mrs.,  as   Hermione, 

76. 
IIippesley,  Mr.,  as  the  Clown 

in  "Winter's  Tale,"  60. 
Hippesley,      Miss      (Mrs. 

Green),    as   Perdita,   60;    as 

Catherine,  267. 
Hipworth,  Mr.,  as   Shylock, 

261;  as  Petrnchio,  277. 
Hodgkinson,    Mr.,   as   Petru- 

chio,  277. 
Hodson,  Miss  Henrietta,  as 

Imogen,  128. 
Hoey,  Mrs.   John  (Miss   Jo- 
sephine Shaw),  as  Beatrice, 

55;    sketch,    55;    as    Portia, 

263;  as  Katharina,  278. 
Hogg,  Mr.,  one  of  the  original 

Dromios  in  America,  91. 
Hogg,  Mrs.,  as  Katharina,  277. 
Holland,    Charles,  strange 

coincidence  in  acting  Iachi- 

mo,  117. 
Holland,  Joseph,  as  Horten- 

sio,  280. 
Holman,  Joseph  G,  first  ap- 
pearance before  an  American 

audience,  52. 
Holman,      Miss.        See    Mrs. 

Charles   Gilfort. 


INDEX. 


:;i:, 


Horton,  Mrs.,  as  Hermione, 

GO. 

Bosmer,  J  kan',  as  Catherine, 
265. 

Howard,  Louise,  as  Rosalind, 
159. 

Huddart,  Miss.  Sec  Mrs. 
Warner. 

Hughes,  Mrs.  Margaret, 
first  woman  on  the  English 
stage,  320;  as  Desdernona, 
322;  sketch,  322. 

[rvijstg,  Henry,  as  Benedick, 
50;  as  Malvolio,  101;  as  Mac- 
beth, 206,  211;  as  Wolsey, 
233;  as  Shylock,  254,  255 ;  as 
Petruchio,  274,  304. 

James,  Louis,  stars  with  his 
wife,  82;  as  Petruchio,  278. 

James,  Mrs.  Louis.  See  Ma- 
rie Wainwright. 

Janauschek,  Madam?:,  as 
Hermione,  77 ;  as  Lady  Mac- 
beth, 212,  223;  sketch,  223; 
as  Queen  Katharine,  233. 

Jarman,  Miss,  as  Perdita,  70. 

Jefferson,  Mr.,  as  Cloten, 
105. 

Jeffreys-Lewis,  Miss,  as 
Ophelia,  310. 

Jennings,  Ciara,  as  Bea- 
trice, 56;  as  Rosalind,  158; 
as  Ophelia,  310. 

Johnson,  John,  mention,  90; 
as  Pisanio,  103. 

Johnson,  Mrs.  John  (nee 
Ford),  New  York's  first  Be- 


atrice, 51 ;  second  Viola  in 
America,  90;  sketch,  90;  as 
Imogen,  103;  as  Rosalind, 
152;  as  Katharina,  277. 

Johnston,  Mrs.  IL,  as  Imo- 
gen, 123. 

Jones,  Miss  Avonia  (Mrs. 
Gustavus  V.  Brooke),  as 
Lady  Macbeth,  216;  sketch, 
216. 

Jones,  "  George,  the  Count 
Joannes,"  strange  acts  of, 
217. 

Jones,  Mrs.  Melinda,  men- 
tion, 216. 

Jordan,  Dora,  as  Beatrice, 
42;  as  Viola,  81,  87,  94; 
sketch,  96;  alliance  with 
Duke  of  Clarence,  98 ;  strange 
story  of  her  death,  99;  as 
Imogen,  121;  title  of  "  Mrs.," 
122;  as  Kosalind,  141. 

Kean,  Charles,  as  Benedick, 
48;  as  Leontes,  72,  74;  as 
Jaques,  145, 153;  as  Macbeth. 
201;  as  Antony,  205;  as  Shy- 
lock,  254. 

Kean,  Edmund,  as  Posthu- 
mus,  125 ;  as  Shylock,  252. 

Kean,  Mrs.  Charles.  See 
Ellen  Tree. 

Kean,  Thomas,  as  Richard  the 
Third,  328. 

Keene,  Laura,  as  Beatrice, 
53;  making  costumes  for  her 
players,  54;  as  Rosalind,  157, 
158. 


346 


INDEX. 


Kemble,  Charles,  as  Romeo 
to  Miss  O'Neill's  Juliet,  14; 
meets  her  nearly  fifty  years 
after,  15;  as  Mercutio,  15; 
as  Claudio,  39;  as  Benedick, 
40;  as  Benedick  to  his  daugh- 
ter's Beatrice,  41 ;  an  Orlando 
at  seventeen,  and  Benedick  at 
sixty-one,  43;  as  Florizel,  07; 
as  Posthumus,  123;  as  Gui- 
derius,  123;  as  Macbeth,  200; 
as  Bassanio,  249,  250;  as  Pe- 
truchio,  278. 

Kemble,  Mrs.  Charles  (nee 
Decamp),  as  Catherine,  l'Os. 

Kemble,  Elizabeth.  See 
Mrs.   Charles  Whitlock. 

Kemble,  Frances  Ann  (  Mix. 
Pierce  Butler),  as  Juliet,  15; 
her  own  story  of  her  debut, 
10  ;  comes  to  America,  and 
marries,  18;  her  Juliet  dis- 
pute with  Ellen  Tree,  18;  as 
Beatrice,  41;  criticised  by 
Leigh  Hunt,  42;  in  New 
York,  49;  death,  49;  as  Lady 
Macbeth,  203 ;  her  family  con- 
nections, 251;  as  Portia,  256; 
as  Katharina,  278. 

Kemble,  John  Philip,  as 
Borneo,  12;  as  Leontes,  67; 
as  Posthumus,  122,  123;  es- 
corts Miss  Phillips  in  a  tur- 
bulent crowd,  126;  his  new 
version  of  "  Antony  and  Cleo- 
patra,"  181;  faces  a  mob, 
198;    as   Cromwell,.  231;    as 


Antonio,  249;  first  appear- 
ance as  Shylock,  251;  as  Pe- 
truchio,  208;  as  Hamlet,  298; 
plays  Othello  in  a  British 
general's  uniform,  327. 

Kemble,  Sarah.  See  Mrs. 
Siddons. 

Kemble,  Stephen,  essays  Shy- 
lock,  251. 

Kemble,  Mrs.  Stephen,  as 
Katharina,  208. 

Kempe,  Will,  the  original 
First  Grave-digger,  8;  the 
original  Dogberry,  35. 

Kendal,  Mrs.  W.  H.  (Mar- 
garet Bobertson,  Mrs.  Grim- 
ston),  as  Rosalind,  140;  as 
Ophelia,  301;  a  youthful 
Lady  Macbeth,  302;  as  Des- 
demona  to  Ira  Aldridge's 
Othello,  32:',. 

Kenna,  Mrs.,  America's  first 
Rosalind,  150. 

KiDD,  Mrs.,  as  Katharina,  277. 

Kimberly,  Miss,  as  Rosalind, 
157. 

King,  Mr.,  as  Shylock,  247. 

Kynastox,  boy  actress,  320. 

Lancaster-Wallis,  M  i;  s. 
Sec  Miss  Ellen  Wallis. 

Lander.  Mrs.  See  Jean  Dav- 
enport. 

Laxgtry,  Mrs.,  as  Rosalind, 
140,  163;  as  Cleopatra,  174, 
188;  as  Lady  Macbeth,  211. 

Leclercq,  Carlotta,  as  Per- 
dita,  74;  as  Rosalind,  145,  103. 


INDEX. 


347 


Le  Clekq,  Charles,  as  Gre- 
mio,  280. 

Lee,  Mb.,  as  Benedick,  37. 

Lee,  Mbs.  Mary  (Lady  Slings- 
by),  the  Cleopatra  of  Sedley's 
play,  176. 

Lewis,  James,  as  Benedick, 
39;  as  Petruchio,  267;  as 
Grumio,  280. 

Litton,  Mabie,  as  Rosalind, 
146. 

Logan,  Eliza,  as  Rosalind, 
157. 

Long,  Mrs.     See  Miss  Cheer. 

Loeaine,  Henry,  as  Antony, 
175. 

Macklin,  Charles,  criticises 
Garrick  and  Barry,  3;  as 
Malvolio,  93;  as  Macbeth, 
201;  as  Shylock,  237,  242; 
last  appearance,  240;  death, 
242;  attempts  to  better  cos- 
tumes, 243;  dispute  with  his 
daughter,  244. 

Mai  klin,  Miss  Maria,  as 
Rosalind,  135;  as  Portia, 
21:!,  244;  sketch,  244. 

Macready,  W.  C,  his  opinion 
of  Miss  O'Neill's  Juliet,  14; 
his  first  appearance,  19;  en- 
courages Charlotte  Cushman, 
24;  as  Benedick,  44;  intro- 
duces appropriate  costumes. 
47;  as  Leontes,  70,  71,  74; 
as  Posthumus  and  Iachimo, 
127;  as  Jaques,  144;  as  An- 
tony,   183;     accused   of    ill- 


treating  Miss  Sullivan,  185; 
as  Macbeth,  204;  as  Brutus, 
205 ;  in  the  riot  in  New  York, 
214;  plays  to  Charlotte 
Cushinan's  Queen  Katha- 
rine, 235;  dissatisfied  with 
his  acting  of  Shylock,  254; 
as  Petruchio,  278;  as  Othello 
and  Iago,  325. 

Maedeb,  Mrs.  See  Clara 
Fisher. 

M alone,  Mr.,  as  Shylock, 
257;  as  Othello,  330. 

Marlowe,  Julia  (Mrs.  Rob- 
ert Taber),  as  Juliet,  22;  as 
Beatrice,  56;  as  Viola,  81, 
S3;  sketch,  83;  as  Imogen, 
112,  113;  as  Rosalind,  161. 

Marriott,  Alice,  as  Rosa- 
lind, 146. 

Marshall,  Anne,  as  Desde- 
niona,  322. 

Marshall,  Mr.,  allusion  to, 
151. 

Marshall,  Mrs.  ( Mrs. 
Webb),    as   Rosalind,    151. 

Marshall,  YVyzeman,  hu- 
morous experience  when 
acting  Iachimo,  108. 

Maeston,  Henry",  as  Petru- 
chio, 272. 

Marston,  Miss  Jennie,  as 
Perdita,  73. 

Marston,  Westland,  criti- 
cises Miss  Neilson's  Rosa- 
lind, 150. 


348 


INDEX. 


Martin,  Mr.,  asPetruchio,  277. 

Martin,  Lady  Theodore. 
See  Helen  Faucit. 

Mason,  Mrs.,  as  Katharina, 
278. 

Mather,  Margaret,  as  Ros- 
alind, 161. 

Mathews,  Charles  J.,  as 
Sir  Andrew  Aguecheek,  80; 
marries  Lizzie  Weston,  87. 

Mathews,  Mrs.  Charles  J. 
See  Lizzie  Weston. 

Mattocks,  Mrs.,  as  Hermi- 
one,  62;  as  Celia,  134. 

Maywood,  small  salary  as  a 
star,  223. 

McCll lough,  John,  as  Ham- 
let, 313. 

McDowell,  Melbourne,  as 
Sardou's  Antony,  189. 

McVicker,  Mary  (Mrs.  Ed- 
win Booth),  as  Juliet  at  the 
opening  of  Booth's  Theatre, 


27; 


to     Edwin 


Booth,  27;  death,  27. 

Melmorth,  Courtney,  comes 
to  America,  212. 

Melmorth,  Mrs.,  as  Lady 
.Macbeth,  212;  sketch,  212. 

Milward,  in  "As  You  Like 
It,"  132. 

Modjeska,  Mme.  (Countess 
Bozenta),  as  Juliet,  22; 
speaks  the  final  words  in 
Booth's  Theatre,  27;  as  Bea- 
trice, 56;  as  Viola,  81,  83; 
sketch,  83;  as  Imogen,  112; 


as  Rosalind,  163;  as  Lady 
Macbeth,  224 ;  as  Queen  Kath- 
arine, 233;  as  Portia,  263;  as 
Ophelia,  310, 311 ;  with  Booth, 
313. 

Mollenhauer,  Mrs.  See 
Ada  Clifton. 

Montgomery,  Walter,  as 
Posthumus,  127;  as  Mark 
Antony,  172,  188;  as  Ham- 
let, 302. 

Moore,  Adelaide,  as  Rosa- 
lind, 161. 

Mordaunt,  Jane,  as  Juliet, 
20. 

Morris,  Mrs.,  first  Beatrice 
on  the  American  stage,  51; 
eccentricities,  51 ;  as  Portia, 
259;  as  Katharina,  277;  as 
Desdemona,  330,  332. 

Morris,  Clara,  as  Lady  Mac- 
beth, 217;  as  Katharina,  278. 

Morris,  Owen,  as  Brabantio, 
332. 

Mossop,  Manager,  experi- 
ence with  Mrs.  Bellamy,  6. 

Mountain,  Mrs.,  as  Perdita, 
66. 

Mountfort,  Susan,  insane, 
acts  Ophelia,  283 ;  sketch,  283. 

Mountfort,  William,  killed 
by  Captain  Hill,  285. 

Mowatt,  Anna  Cora,  as  Ju- 
liet, 22;  as  Beatrice,  49;  as 
Imogen,  109;  sketch,  109:  as 
Rosalind,  157;  as  Portia,  263; 
as  Katharina,  278. 


INDEX. 


349 


Murray,  Miss.  See  Mrs. 
Henry  Siddons. 

Murray,  W.,  as  Sebastian, 
87. 

Neilson,  Adelaide,  as  Ju- 
liet, 21;  as  Beatrice,  49,  56; 
as  Viola,  80;  as  Imogen,  112; 
as  Rosalind,  14(i;  sketch, 
147;  study  of  Lady  Macbeth, 
206. 

Nisbett,  Mrs.  (Lady  Booth- 
by),  as  Beatrice,  45;  sketch, 
45;  as  Rosalind,  144;  as 
Catherine,  270;  contrasted 
with  Mine.  Vestris,  270. 

Nossiter,  Miss,  as  Juliet,  8; 
love  affair  with  Barry,  8;  as 
Perdita,  07. 

O'Brien,  William,  as  Sir 
Andrew  Aguecheek,  93; 
elopement  with  Lady  Strang- 
ways,  93. 

Ogilvie,  Mrs.,  as  Portia,  255. 

Oldfielu,  Mrs.,  as  Cleopa- 
tra, 177. 

O'Neill,  Miss,  as  Juliet,  13; 
sketch,  13. 

Orton,  Josephine,  as  Cath- 
erine, 205. 

Osborne,  Mrs.,  as  Portia, 
258. 

Paine,  Thomas  (Robert  Treat 
Paine,  Jr.  ),  the  first  profes- 
sional dramatic  critic  in 
America,  151. 

Palmer,  Millicent,  as  Rosa- 
lind, 145. 


Palmer,  Mr.,  as  King  Henry, 

231. 
Parker,  Mrs.,  as  Hermione. 

70,  77. 

Patkmax,  Isabella,  as  Per- 
dita, 70;  as  Ophelia,  310. 

Patti,  Adelixa,  appearance 
on  stage  at  eight  years  of 
age,  278. 

Pelby,  Ophelia.  See  Mrs. 
Anderson. 

Phelps,  Samuel,  as  Leontes, 
72;  coaches  Miss  Atkinson, 
73;  as  Malvolio,  101;  as 
Jaques,  145;  as  Antony, 
186;  as  Macbeth,  201,  205; 
as  Shylock,  254;  as  Petru- 
chio,  272;  as  Christopher 
Sly,  272;  experience  as  Mac- 
beth to  the  Lady  of  Madge 
Robertson,  302. 

Phillips,  Miss.  See  Mrs. 
Crouch. 

Placide,  Eenry,  as  the  Grave- 
digger  in  "Hamlet,"  310. 

Tlympton,  Eben,  as  Posthu- 
mus,  112. 

Pomeroy,  Mrs.  Louise,  as 
Rosalind,  15!). 

Ponisi,  Mme.,  as  Cleopatra, 
109;  as  Mrs.  Hardcastle,  101); 
sketch,  100;  as  Lady  Mac- 
beth, 213;  as  Portia,  203. 

Pope,  Miss,  Jove  affair  with 
Mr.  Holland,  120. 

Pope,  Mr.,  as  Iachimo,  121. 

Pope,  Mrs.    See  Miss  Younge. 


350 


INDEX. 


Porter,  Mrs.,  as  Lady  Mac- 
beth, 194;  as  Queen  Katha- 
rine, 227;  adventure  with 
highwayman,  228. 

Potter,  Mrs.  James  Brown 
(Cora  Urquhart),  as  Cleopa- 
tra, 174;  studies  with  Mrs. 
Glyn-Dallas,  187. 

Powell,  Charles  Stuart, 
opens  Federal  Street  Theatre 
in  Boston,  151. 

Powell,  Swelling,  as  Or- 
sino,  92. 

Powell,  Mrs.  Snelling  (Miss 
Elizabeth  Harrison),  first  Vi- 
ola in  America,  91;  as  Rosa- 
lind, 152;  Boston's  first  Lady 
Macbeth,  212;  asJPortia,  2G1 ; 
sketch,  201  ;  as  Katharina, 
277. 

Powell,  William,  coinci- 
dences when  acting  Posthu- 
mus,  117. 

Pritchard,  Miss,  as  Juliet,  8. 

Pritchard,  Mrs.,  as  Lady 
Capulet,  8;  the  first  Beatrice 
of  Garrick's  Benedick,  34  ; 
struggle  for  superiority  with 
Garrick,  35  ;  rival  of  Peg 
Woffington,  30;  as  Lady  Mac- 
beth, 30;  her  acting  con- 
sidered superior  to  Garrick's 
by  Horace  Walpole,  3S;  as 
Paulina,  01 ;  as  Hermione, 
01;  as  Viola,  93;  the  original 
Covent  Garden  Imogen,  115; 
as   Rosalind,    132;    as    Lady 


Macbeth,  192;  her  farewell, 
193;  her  strong  points,  194; 
as  Queen  Katharine  and 
Queen  Gertrude,  229  ;  as 
Catherine,  200. 

Proctor,  Joseph,  as  Mac- 
beth, at  the  age  of  seventy- 
four,  215. 

Provost,  Mary,  as  Rosalind, 
145. 

Quelcii,  Mr.,  as  Roderigo,  332. 

Quin,  James,  explains  the  dis- 
appearance of  Mrs.  Bellamy, 
4;  astonished  at  Garrick's 
conception  of  Macbeth,  191 ; 
as  Antonio,  238;  thrashed  by 
Macklin,  238. 

Rankin,  Mrs.,  as  Katharina, 
277. 

Reddish,  Samuel,  as  Postlm- 
mus,  strange  tale  of,  118. 

Rehan,  Ada,  as  Viola,  81,  84; 
sketch,  85;  as  Rosalind,  101; 
as  Katharina,  278. 

Reignolds,  Kate  (Mrs.  Erv- 
ing  Winslow),  as  Juliet  to 
Cushman's  Romeo,  20;  her 
anecdote  about  Laura  Keene, 
54 ;  exciting  experience  as 
Desdemona,  323. 

Reinhardt,  Miss,  as  Cleo- 
patra, 188. 

Rigby,  Mi:.,  as  Iago,  330. 

Rignold,  George,  as  Borneo, 
27. 

Ristori,  Mme.,  as  Lady  Mac- 
beth, 225;  sketch,  225. 


INDKX. 


:\:,\ 


Robertson,  Madge.  See  Mrs. 
W.  H.  Kendal. 

Robinson,  Feederic,  the  ori- 
ginal Dell'  Aquila  in  "Fool's 
Revenge,"  73;  as  Florizel, 
73;  as  Iago,  274. 

Robinson,  Mrs.  Mary,  debut 
as  Juliet,  narrated  by  herself, 
10;  as  Perdita,  63;  sketch, 
G3. 

Rousby,  Mrs.,  as  Rosalind, 
145,  163. 

Rowson,  Mrs.,  as  Katharina, 
277. 

Ryan,  Mr.,  as  Petruchio,  277. 

Ryan,  Mrs.,  as  Lady  Macbeth, 
212;  as  Portia,  2*50;  as  Kath- 
arina, 277. 

Ryder,  John,  as  Leonato, 
48. 

Sai/vini,  Tomaso,  as  Othello, 
325. 

Saunderson,  Miss  (Mrs.  Bet- 
terton),  the  first  Juliet,  8; 
as  Yiola,  93;  as  Lady  Mac- 
beth, 194;  as  Queen  Katha- 
rine, 227;  marriage,  227; 
as  Ophelia,  287,  297. 

Scheller,  Mme.,  as  Ophelia, 
310. 

Scott-Siddons,  Mrs.,  as  Vi- 
ola, 101 ;  as  Rosalind,  145, 
158;  sketch,  158;  her  family 
connections,  251. 

Sedgwick,  Miss  Amy,  as 
Beatrice,  49;  as  Rosalind, 
145,  163. 


Seebach,  Marie,  in  German 
version  of  the  "  Taming  of 
the  Shrew,"  274. 

Shakespeare,  Mr.,  as  Laun- 
eelot,  259. 

Siiarpe,  Mrs.,  as  Katharina, 
278. 

Shaw,  Miss  Josephine.  See 
.Mrs.  John  Hoe  v. 

Shaw,  Mrs.,  as  Imogen,  107; 
sketch,  107. 

Sheridan,  Manager,  at- 
tacked by  a  mob,  5. 

Siiewell,  Mrs.  L.  R.  See 
Rose  Skerrett. 

Siddons,  Mrs.  Henry  (Miss 
Murray),  as  Hero,  39;  as 
Rosalind,  143. 

Siddons,  Mrs.  (Sarah 
Kemble),  as  Juliet,  12;  as 
Beatrice,  42;  first  time  as 
llermione,  67;  formal  exit 
from  professional  life,  68; 
narrow  escape  from  burning, 
68;  disapproves  of  Dora 
Jordan,  97;  as  Imogen,  122; 
rivalry  with  Mrs.  Jordan, 
122;  prudery  in  boy's  clothes, 
12:5;  as  Rosalind,  138;  as 
Cleopatra,  178;  plays  Dry- 
den's  Cleopatra,  182;  as  Lady 
Macbeth,  194,  210;  experi- 
ence with  a  mob,  198;  laugh- 
able experience  while  acting 
Lady  Macbeth,  200;  as  Queen 
Katharine,  229;  origin  of 
her   portrait    as   the   Tragic 


352 


INDEX. 


Muse,  229;  as  Portia,  247; 
sketch,  247;  as  Catherine, 
268 ;  as  Ophelia,  298 ;  as  Rosa- 
lind, 299;  suffers  from  slan- 
der, 300;  as  Desdemona,  327. 

Sinclair,  Mrs.  (Mrs.  Edwin 
Forrest),  as  Beatrice,  40. 

Skerrett,  Rose  (Mrs.  L.  R. 
Shewell),  as  Perdita,  77. 

Skinner,  Otis,  as  Lucentio, 
280. 

Slingsby,  Lady.  See  Miss 
Mary  Lee. 

Sloman,  Mrs.,  as  Hermione 
to  Macready's  Leontes,  72. 

Smith,  Mark,  asPolonius,  310. 

Smith,  Miss.  See  Mrs.  George 
Bartley. 

Smith,  Mrs.  W.  IL,  as  Rosa- 
lind, 155. 

Somerville,  Miss  (Mrs. 
Dunn),  as  Hermione,  69;  suf- 
fers from  malignity  of  Kean, 
69;  as  the  Cleopatra  of  Dry- 
den's  play,  170;  as  Iras,  184; 
as  Lady  Macbeth,  204. 

Stephens,  Miss  (Countess  of 
Essex),  as  Imogen,  123; 
sketch,  124. 

Sterling,  Mrs.,  as  Rosalind, 
143. 

Stevens,  Sarah,  as  Ophelia, 
310. 

S  t  o  R  E  R,  Ann.  See  Mrs. 
Henry,  the  second. 

Storer,  Maria.  See  Mrs. 
Henry,  the  third. 


Story,  Anna  Warren,  as 
Perdita,  77,  78. 

Strickland,  as  Christopher 
Sly,  271. 

Sullivan,  Miss,  as  Cleopatra, 
185. 

Taker,  Mrs.  Robert.  See 
Julia  Marlowe. 

Talma,  as  Othello,  320. 

Taylor,  Miss,  as  Rosalind, 
143. 

Taylor,  Mr.,  as  Orlando, 
152. 

Templar,  Mrs.,  as  Eugenia 
(Imogen),   114. 

Terry,  Ellen,  as  Juliet,  21  ; 
as  Beatrice,  50;  her  first  ap- 
pearance on  the  stage,  74; 
as  Viola,  81,  101;  as  Lady 
Macbeth,  206,  210;  as  Queen 
Katharine,  233;  as  Portia, 
254;  as  Katharina  to  Irving's 
Petruchio,  274;  as  Ophelia, 
303;  sketch,  304. 

Terry,  Miss  Kate,  as  Bea- 
trice, 49;  as  Viola  and  Se- 
bastian, S7. 

Tree,  Ellen  (Mrs.  Charles 
Kean),  dispute  as  Romeo 
with  Mrs.  Kemble-Butler, 
18;  as  Beatrice,  48  ;  as  Her- 
mione, 74;  as  Olivia  and 
Viola,  100;  as  Rosalind,  145, 
153;  as  Lady  Macbeth,  206; 
as  Queen  Katharine,  23:5;  as 
Catherine,  274,  278. 


INDEX. 


;};>:; 


Tree,  Maria  (Mrs.  Brad- 
sliaw),  as  Viola,  100;  criti- 
cised by  Leigh  Hunt,  101; 
as  Rosalind,  145;  as  Portia, 
245. 

TeemAin,  John,  as  Iago,  329. 

Upton,  Mb.  and  Mrs.  Rob- 
ert, introduce  "Othello" 
in  America,  328. 

Vandenhoff,  George,  as 
Benedick,  55;  as  Mark  An- 
tony, 168;  as  Macbeth,  217, 
221. 

Vandenhoff,  John,  takes 
Macready's  place  as  Leontes, 
71;  as  Petruchio,  278. 

Vandenhoff,  Miss,  as  Per- 
dita,  71;  as  Katharina,  278. 

Verling,  Mr.,  as  Petruchio, 
277. 

Vestris,  Mme.,  manager  of 
Covent  Garden,  presents  the 
original  text  of  .Shakespeare's 
"  Romeo  and  Juliet,''  20;  as 
Rosalind,  145;  contrasted 
with  Mrs.  Nisbett,  270. 

Vezin,  Mrs.  Hermann.  See 
Mrs.  Charles  Young. 

Vincent,  Mrs.,  as  Beatrice, 
34;  as  Celia,   130. 

Violette,  Mademoiselle, 
marriage  to  David  Garrick, 
36. 

Wainwright,  Marie  (Mrs. 
Louis  James),  as  Juliet,  27; 
as  Viola,  81,  82;  sketch,  82; 
as  Desdemona,  325. 


Waldron,  J.  B.,  as  Enobar- 

bus,  172. 
Walker,  Mrs.,  as  Katharina, 

277. 

Wallace,  Fanny,  as  Juliet, 
25;  as  Romeo,  27. 

Wallace,  Henry,  as  Mal- 
volio,  89. 

Wallace,  Mrs.  Henry,  as 
Sebastian,  89. 

Wallace,  James  W.,  as  Bene- 
dick, 52,  53,  55;  last  appear- 
ance  on   the    stage,    55 


as 


Florizel,  70;  as  Jaques,  158; 
as  Shylock,  262;  as  Petruchio, 
269. 

Wallace,  James  W.,  Jr.,  as 
Leontes,  77;  as  Shylock,  262; 
as  the  Ghost,  310. 

Wallace,  Mrs.  James  W., 
Jr.,  as  Hermione  76;  as  Rosa- 
lind, 155;  as  Katharina,  278; 
as  the  Queen  in  Hamlet,  310. 

Wallace,  Lester,  as  Sir 
Andrew  Aguecheek,  80;  as 
Orlando,  158;  as  Young  Mar- 
low,  169;  famous  testimonial 
to,  309. 

Waller,  D.  W.,  as  Macbeth, 
221. 

AY  a  i. lis,  Miss  (Mrs.  Camp- 
bell), as  Perdita,  67. 

WALLIS,  Miss  Ellen  (Mrs. 
Lancaster),  as  Hermoine,  74: 
becomes  a  manager's  wife. 
75;  as  Rosalind,  143,  146;  as 
Cleopatra,  187,  188. 


354 


INDEX. 


Walstein,  Mrs.,  small  salary, 
222. 

Ward,  Genevieve,  as  Bea- 
trice, 49;  as  Lady  Macbeth, 
200;  sketch,  200;  as  Queen 
Katharine,  233. 

Warde,  Frederick,  as  An- 
tony, 172. 

Warner,  Mrs.,  as  Paulina  and 
Hermione,  71,  00;  sketch,  TO; 
as  Lady  Macbeth,  204,  205; 
as  Portia  in  "  Julius  Cajsar," 
205 ;  as  Queen  Katharine,  233. 

Warren,  William,  as  Autoly- 
cus,  77. 

Were,  Mrs.  See  Mrs.  Mar- 
shall. 

Webster,  Benjamin,  pro- 
duces "  The  Taming  of  the 
Shrew,"  209;  as  Petruchio, 
270. 

West,  Mrs.  W.,  as  Perdita,  70; 
as  Imogen,  125. 

Weston,  Lizzie  (Mrs.  A.  H. 
Davenport,  Mrs.  C.  J.  Ma- 
thews), as  Viola,  87;  mar- 
riage and  divorce,  87. 

Wiieatley,  William,  as 
Laertes,  310. 

Wiieelock,  Joseph,  as  Mark 
Antony,  172;  as  Petruchio, 
278. 

Wiiitlock,  Charles,  hus- 
band of  Elizabeth  Kemble, 
251. 

Wiiitlock,  Mrs.  Charles 
(Elizabeth  Kemble),  as  Imo- 


gen, 110;  as  Lady  Macbeth, 
212 ;  as  Portia,  251,  260;  plays 
before  George  Washington, 
201. 

Wilkinson,  Tate,  describes 
Mrs.  Bellamy's  reappearance, 
0;  declares  Mrs.  Cibber  to  be 
the  best  Ophelia,  288;  criti- 
cises Mrs.  Baddeley,  297. 

Williamson,  Mrs.  (MissFon- 
tenelle),  Boston's  first  Bea- 
trice, 51. 

Wilson,  Mrs.,  as  Katharina, 
277. 

Winslow,  Mrs.  Erving.  See 
Kate  Reignolds. 

Woefington,  Peg,  as  Viola, 
!»:',;  as  Rosalind,  129,  133;  her 
last  appearance,  130;  as  Cleo- 
patra, 177;  as  Lady  Macbeth, 
194;  as  Portia,  246;  joke  at 
her  voice,  246;  her  debut  on 
the  stage  as  Ophelia,  289; 
sketch,  289. 

Wood,  John,  as  Cloten,  109. 

WoonwARD,  as  Petruchio,  266. 

Wood,  W.  B.,  as  Petruchio, 
278. 

Woolgar,  Sarah  J.,  as  Rosa- 
lind, 145. 

Yates,  Mr.  Richard,  as 
Cloten,  117;  the  best  of 
Shakespeare's  clowns,  180; 
as  Grumio,  266;  death,  266. 

Yates,  Mrs.  Richard  (Mrs. 
Graham),    rhymes    concern- 


INDEX. 


355 


ing,  37;  tragic  power,  65;  as 
Hermione,  (H>;  as  Perdita, 
74;  as  Viola,  93;  as  Imogen, 
117;  as  Rosalind,  143;  as 
Cleopatra,  180;  sketch,  180; 
as  Lady  Macbeth,  104;  as 
Portia,  24(3. 

Young,  Charles  Mayne,  as 
Romeo,  12;  marries  Julia 
Grimani,  13;  as  Iaehimo, 
125;  as  Posthumus,   126. 

Young,  Mrs.  Charles  (Mrs. 
ITermann  Vezin),  as  Viola, 
101;  as  Imogen  and  Portia, 


128;  as  Rosalind,  145;  as 
Portia  to  Edwin  Booth's 
Shylock,  255. 
Yor.NGE,  Miss  (Mrs.  Pope  . 
torments  Garrick,  37  :  as  Her- 
mione, (')('»;  as  Portia  to  Maek- 
lin's  last  Shylock,  66,  241; 
as  Cordelia  to  Garrick' s  last 
Lear,  GO;  as  Yiola,  93;  as 
Imogen  and  Cordelia,  121; 
as  Rosalind,  136,  138;  as 
Cleopatra,  177;  inappropri- 
ate costume,  179;  as  Queen 
Katharine,  229;  sketch,  242. 


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