The C are e r o f

Dio n Bouc ic ault

To wnse nd W al s h

N EW YO RK THE D UNLAP SO CI ETY M C M XV o 1 1 b C pyright, 9 5 , y T H E D UN LAP S O C I ETY

fl 00 g i b O i ) , This is on e of an edition of three hundre d c opies prin te d from typ e for Th e D unlap Soc iety

in th e mo of Se ember 1 1 nth pt , 9 5 , by The D e Vinne Press

Qtflfl tmtfi

E CHAPT R I . m a — Origin o f th e B our s iquots or B ourc icaults Th c — ’ family in Dublin Mys te ry o f Di on s parentage — — Was h e born in 1820 or 1822 ? S trong e vi — d ence to prov e that h e was a l ove - child H i s — — e u e e Th e D e m D r D ion r p t d fath r arl y fa ily . y s ins Lardne r

CHAPTE R II . — S ch ool - days P ranks with Charl es Lamb Ken —“ ’ ” ney Nap ol eon s Old Guard acte d at Brent — — ford by hi s s ch ool fe ll ow s Extraordinary p r e — ’ c ocity B ec omes an a cto r in 1839 - Barton Hill s r emini s cenc e s o f B ouc i cault at th e Ch eltenham — and Gl ouces ter Th eatre s Rol e s enact e d at Hull

— “ ‘ ” — An adaptati on o f Jack S h eppard ~ Plays “ J ack hims e lf und e r th e n om d e théé tr e o f Lee ” More ton

E CHAPT R III . — H me to be London As s urance ow. it ca writ — — ’ ten and acte d I ts remarkabl e c a s t Thacke ray s parody of th e play

E C HAPT R IV . “ — e s and ou e s 18 Th e con Old H ad Y ng H art , 44 diti on of th e Briti s h dramati s t previ ous to 1850 — - ~Free to forage in France B ouc i c ault in Pari s — Hi s fir s t marriage and r eturn to L ond on D ramati s t and lit e rary advi s e r for C har l es Ke an — Fecundity as an adapte r [VI I ! {toutentg

C E PAG E HAPT R V . Fir s t app e aranc e und er hi s own name as an ac — — tor in Lond on An Iri s h vampire Meets Agne s — Rob e rts on H e r e arly c are e r as a c hild s inge r — and j uv enil e actre s s Fall s in love with B ouc i — c ault Th e ir d epartur e for N ew York

E C HAPT R VI . ’ Dé u o f A es Ro e s o u o s T e e b t gn b rt n at B rt n h atr , — N ew Yo rk H e r e xtrao rdinary s uc ce s s in B os — — ton Extend e d tour o f th e Unite d S tates A p en — “ pi cture o f N ew York in 1856 Th e P oo r o f N ew ” o k es s e o o r Th e Re e o f uck Y r J i Br wn ; , li f L ” — now B ouci c au1t Op ens a th eatr e in Wa s hing ton

E I I C HAPT R V . P artne rs hip with William S tuart at th e Winte r — G e N ew o k os e e ffe s o e co ard n, Y r J ph J r n th ir — ’ me dian B ouc i cault s a s tutene s s at re h e ar s al s — ’ H i s ma s t erly s tage - c raft Agne s Rob e rts on s — “ ” gift for pathos S ucc e s s o f Th e O cto roon I ts tactful tr e atment o f th e s lave ry ques ti on ’ Je ffe rs on s hit as S ale m S cudd er

E C HAPT R V III . Th e B ouci caults trans fe r th e ir s e rvi c es to Laura — “ ” Ke ene P roducti on o f Th e Coll e en Bawn ’ Th e ue s o of E c o o u o c tr t ry ily O nn r , p n whi h — ’ Ge rald Gr ifii n ba s e d h i s novel B ouc i c ault s ad ’ mirabl e o riginality in dramatizing Griffin s w o rk — S ucc es s o f th e N ew o k o o play in Y r , L nd n, — D ublin and P ari s Th e nov e lty o f th e wate r cave s c ene Qtuntmts E X CHAPT R I . PAC E ’ — B ouc i c ault s ambiti ons a s a manage r Conve rt s ’ As tley s Cir cus building into th e W e s tmins te r — Th eatr e Chri s tma s pantomi me o f th e Grimaldi — typ e Fia s c o o f th e W e s tmin s te r Theatre ’ B ouci c ault s s econd app e aranc e in th e bank — “ r up tcy court P r ovinc ial pr od ucti on o f Th e ” P oo o f N ew o k oc e for ous c e r Y r , l aliz d vari iti s — As tounding s ucc e s s o f th e play in Lond on I ts c o em o e s D cke s B ou nd nati n by Charl i n , and ’ ci c ault s own opini on of i ts tra s hine s s

E X C HAPT R . — B ouc i c ault in h i s nativ e c ity P e culiar r elati ons — e xi s ting b etw e en him and John Brougham Fir s t “ — — ” pro ducti on o f Arrah na P ogue in D ublin S oc ial s ucc es s o f th e B ouci c aults in the Iri s h “ ” — — - c apital Arrah na P ogue r ewritten and p r o — duc e d in L ond on Tran s late d into Fr ench and — ’ a cte d in P ari s B ouci c ault s new v e r s i on o f “ ” Th e We o f th e G ee th e s o aring r n, Iri h nati nal anth em

R C HAPTE XI . — H ome life of th e B oucic aults in L ond on Jo s eph — J e ffe r s on arriv e s fr om Aus tralia Fir s t pro duc “ ” — ti on of Rip V an Winkl e Jus t h ow far Je f fer s on i s ind ebte d to B ouc i c ault for hi s imp e r i s h abl e c r e ati on

R CHAPTE XII . ’ B ouci c ault s indus try and f ecundity for nine — — ye ar s Me l o drama s gal o r e Charl e s Di cken s at “ ” — re h e ar s al s o f Th e Long S trike H enry Ir ’ vi n g s fir s t hit d ontents

C E PAG E HAPT R XIII . P artners hip with th e Earl o f Lond e s bo rough — Th ey l e as e ' Covent Gard en A fortune s quan “ ” — d e r e d on Babil and Bij ou Return to Ame r — ’ i c a B ouci cault s fi ne a cting in Daddy ’ ” — O D owd Write s a play for John Mc c ull ough about th e Ame ri can Civil War

C E XI V HAPT R . — Fir s t prod uction of Th e S h augh raun An — appr ec iati on by Geo rge William Curti s Th e ’ — blackguard s in B ouc ic ault s Iri s h plays A s chool —“ of Iri s h ac to rs c ome s into e xi s tenc e The ” — S haugh r aun in L ondon A mod es t l etter to Di s — r ae li Row with Chatte rton at D rury Lane ’ cc e to B oucicault s e es bo W e Fatal a id nt ld t y , illi

E X CHAPT R V . — Eno rmous profit s o f Th e S haugh r aun B ou ’ — c ic ault s prodigality La s t app e arance o f th e — B oucicaults togeth e r in N ew Yo rk Agnes Rob ’ e r ts on s return to Engl and

E X I C HAPT R V . ” — Iri s hi s ms B ouc i c ault b ecome s l e s s ee o f ’ — oo s T e e N ew o k De u o f hi s s on B th h atr , Y r b t “ ” — “ D ot Extrao rdinary p erformance o f Loui s ” — XI D o as th e c mo c A l ec , with i n rafty nar h u e on o u c o th e ceum T e e t r pr n n iati n at Ly h atr , o o e o e E s c o s L nd n, b f r ngli h a t r EX ! mutants E m m CHAPT R XVII . B ouc i c ault barn - s torms through Ame ri c a Th e ” — Am m e c e o A o e adan, an i aginativ r ati n w nd r — ’ ful r eproducti on o f a s e a- c av e Irving s d e s ir e to R ober t E mme t us e him play , and what fr trat d — H e give s th e manus c ript to B ouc i c ault Fir s t “ p e rfo rmance o f Th e Jilt with D ot and Nina — ’ B ouc ic ault in th e c a s t B ouc i c ault s fount o f — p erp etual youth H e goe s to Aus tralia and mar — ri e s Mi s s Th o rndyke P ubli c indignati on at — ’ — thi s act Agnes R ob e rt s on s divo rce Ye ar s o f — futil e e ffo rt to ac hi ev e s ucc e s s H i s la s t play s — and th e ir fail ure S tarts a s chool o f a cting in N ew Yo rk

C HAPTE R XVIII . — What B ouci c ault taught hi s pupil s Banquet in — h i s h onor at th e H o ffman H ous e H e di e s vir — tually in harne s s Fune ral s e rvi ce s and la s t re s t ing - place

C HAPTER XIX . ’ — An e s timate o f B ouc i c ault s v e r s atil e gift s A — — pi oneer r e forme r H i s prac ti cal s pirit An im — p e r i ous s tage dir e cto r Hi s tal ent as an a cto r ’ — Jos eph Je ffe r s on s trib ute to him S pe ech e s be — fo re th e curtain H i s c ontempt fo r th e publi c Joco s ene s s ab out s tage b e auti e s in S hake sp ear e — H e inv ent s fir epr oo f s c enery H i s int ens e l ov e — ‘ for Ir e land Tribute fr om Jus tin M Car thy [xi ! I E M SC LLANY . P AG E

S ongs by B ouc i c ault

App earanc e s o f th e B oucic aults in D ublin

Q uotabl e Extra ct s

’ Chronol ogi c al Li s t o f B ouci c ault s D ramati c W o rks {List of i llustrations

Silh oue tte of D i on B oucicault at th e a ge of fi ve

D i on B oucicault in H i s Study

' ’ D ion B oucicault a s M c/za el O D owd

’ ” O D owd Fr om a p /z otog r ap lz by N atw a n

D i on B oucicault and L oui s e Th orndyke B oucic a ult

“ D ion B oucicault a s Con n in Th e Sh augh raun Fr om a p /zo tog r ap /z by S a r ony

Mo ue a s Ca ta i n Mol ne zzx Ad a H arry J . ntag p y and ' “ ” D yas a s Cl a i r e Ffoll z ott in Th e Sh augh ra un Fr om a p /z otog r ap /z by S a r ony

D ion B oucicault a s S lz a nn t/ze P os t and Sadie “ ” Mar tin ot a s Ar r a lz in Arr ah - na - P ogue 1 2 8

J ohn Gilb ert a s Fa t/z er D ol a n an d E dward Ar n ott “ as Cor ry [fl nclzela in Th e Sh augh raun 1 6 0 Fr om a p/z otog r ap lz by S a r ony

D o B ou u th e Agnes R ob erts on (Mrs . i n cica lt)in “ e h e es s e B o or Th e R e e titl c aract r in J i r wn ; , li f ” of Luckn ow 2 00 Fr om a p boi og r ap /z by Mo r a

r v er t J a n s en l Ven de/l or [be Tlz e S oc i ety i s i n d ebted to [P! . E f

' ' l oa n of til e p botog r ap /z s fr om wlz z c/z t/z e z l l us tr a /z on r — ' i n th i s book lz a ve been ma d e fr om lz z r wel l

,é n ow n d r a ma ti c col l ec ti on .

p reface

D I ON BOUC I CAULT ! - fi lle r m The name itself is an ear , a patrony ic devised to invest the wearer with the subtle , magi cal qualities of a necromancer . When Boucicault wrote a letter to Disraeli de manding in the name of the Irish nation and the “ author of The S haugh raun the immediate r e o f n lease the Fenia prisoners , then under sentence P m M for treason , the British ri e inister ignored the

. e modest missive But some days after , at a rec p tion when the name of Boucicault chanced to be mentioned , Disraeli turned round to his secretary “ and inquired : Boucicault ! Boucicault ! Where have I heard that name before ? Is it some one in the conjuring business ? A conjurer he was in the best sense of the term ; a mighty magician ; a Wizard of wondrou s s kill . For a period of fifty years Dion Boucicault stood prominent in the world of the stage . He fed half the theatres of London and New York with the h e products of his pen . He utilized everything h e s aw read in novels , and adapted everything in m the P aris theatres . His enor ous capacity for work equalled his superabundan t activity . His gift of discerning what the public wanted was matched by his inexhaustible facility in supplying that want .

[XV ! ibrrfate

A m an dowered to a high degree with all the attr i butes that go to make a masterful playwright ! ’ Bouci cault s m m talent was a arketable co modity . His earliest work proved his inborn theatrical i n s tinc t him e and brought rev nue and glory . Before he was twenty he had caught the trick of play writing with facile elegance , and his dramatic labor for half a century covers every species of stage literature . “ m Mr . e How often , re arks William Arch r , have playgoers of the younger generation been n surprised to lear that such and such a play , which m m to the see ed the relic of bygone ages , was the work of Boucicault ! ” Yet measuring the longevity of his best work by m “ L that of his conte poraries , ondon Assurance and “ Old Heads and Young Hearts ” have outlived four- fi fth s of the plays of their day ; while the Irish dramas are entwined to the temple of the legitimate with the tenacity of ivy on a round tower . M r A few years ago r . George Be nard S haw de livered a lecture in London on “ The S tage Irish ” h ad man . He a tolerant good word for Bouci ’ cault s m Irishman , and condescendingly pro ised to m give us , so e day or another , the genuine article . In the course of time he gave us “ John Bull ’ s ” Mr an d . Other Island ; Arnold Daly , who pro duced it in New York , spent a pretty penny in mounting it lavishly and tastefully . The few peo ple who went to see it either fell fast asleep early in the evening or stayed awake to be wearied to [xvi ! p reface

’ Mr boredom . . S haw s S tage Irishman pro ve d a didactic bore , and didactic bores are the f ell fat e s

. wa s e of the stage Boucicault vindicat d . Posterity seems to have practically d ecided that his Irish plays a r e the achieveme nt s up on whi c h ’ Bouci caul t s m m s O n f fa e will ulti ately re t . e o th e most remarkabl e p e rs onalities in th e histo ry o f th e m s i theatre , he was one of the ost ver atile ; h s range e was of the widest , and he succeeded in ev ry de p ar tment of the realm of the stage ; but it was a s an actor of Irish parts and as a writ e r of Iri s h plays m that he gained a place in the dra atic hierarchy . ’ m m Bouc icault s With the sha rock for its sy bol , m ma m him a s fa e rests secure , and Ireland y clai her peculiarly national prop e rty . It would require a series of volumes of the scope of the present book to tell of his life work in an M t exhaustive way . y aim and purpose has been o give as much authentic info rmation as could be E condensed into an unreasonably small space . very e actor I have met in the last twenty years , who ev r m E played with Boucicault , I have pu ped dry . very thing i n print about Boucicault that I could lav hold of has been noted and weighed for its worth . M m L r . e . I am greatly indebted to . Willia J awr nce who has rendered invaluable service in delving into the archives of the Dublin Record Office in que s t of statistics that might shed s ome ligh t on Bouci ’ c ault s parentage . ’ Mystery shrouds Bouci cault s birth and anc e s try , and scandal steps in with the ready explana s om tion that he was born out of wedlock . To e l:xvii {Btefate

am persons scandal is unctuously nourishing , but I not one of these ; and it is in no ready spirit that I set forth the facts that tend to prove Boucicault to have been the natural son of Dr . Dionysius L ardner . Days devoted to careful research in Dublin have ’ failed to establish positively th e date of Dion s birth . Nothing appertaining to his birth can be m found in docu entary evidence . However , the f C Record O fice in the Four ourts , Dublin , shed some light on his antecedents . The negative evi dence of the census returns and the old Dublin Mr Directories and the authentic data of . Arthur Darley have enabled me to speak with conviction about his parentage . My biographical duty would be only partially fulfilled if I neglected to tell in plain terms the very strong reasons for believing Boucicault to have been born out of wedlock . But I have ex tenuate d nothing nor set down aught in malice , and in that reflection I find a warrant for complete candor in discussing this matter .

I:xviii !

QEbe di m er of l atent ifioueteault

C HAPT ER I

O ri i n o til e B oa r s i n t r r g f g o s o B ou cica ul ts Tbe fa mily

' i n D ubli n — ’ M s tefy of D i on s pa r en tage Was be — bor n i n 1 8 2 0 or 1 8 2 2 2 S tr ong evidence to pr ove — t/za t li e was a looe-cbild i fis r eputed fa t/zer 7 17: r m l — D a le a i D r . D ion s i ns La r dner y f y y .

RE you an Irishman ? ” somebody once asked Dion Boucicault ; to which Boucicault replied S i r with much maj esty of manner , , nature did me ” that honor .

That Boucicault was an Irishman indeed , and a sincere patriot into the bargain , none would dare n dispute . His ame , to be sure , is French ; but what H ibe r of that , since his nature was thoroughly nian ? A bear may be christened “ Teddy” without ceasing to be a bear ; and there is this fine power C m in the quality of the elt , that no lapse of ti e or change of climate can tame the true Irish out of him M MacMah on L m . arshal belongs to i erick still , though his forefathers drank the breath of

Burgundy for over two hundred years . The Irish S who fought in the armies of France , pain and ff Austria never lost their Celtic traits . One whi 4 age d areer of EDi onfibumirault

of the bog expels all alien races . And Dion Bouci cault , despite his French name and ancestry , was as true a son of the land that gave him birth as if no mail - clad Boucicault had ever borne the baton of Guienne into the fray of Agincourt . S o it is with the Bouci caults in Ireland and not Emi in France that we must concern ourselves . grating from Tours in the south of France on the E revocation of the dict of Nantes , they forthwith ’ settled in Ireland . I have traced one of Dion s ancestors through the old Dublin newspapers , a E haberdasher who kept a shop at No . 1 ssex v r Bridge for over thirty years . Here is his ad e “ ’ ” ti s ement n 1 6 : from Faulkner s Dubli Journal , 7 4 “ James Boursiquot , Haberdasher , begs leave to acquaint the P ublic that he has removed from the Upper Blind Quay to the New House at the Foot Mr E . n of ssex Bridge , next door to Fur ace , M i n Woollen Draper , that he will use all the eans his Power to merit a continuation of their Favour . i L N B . Ver od un ur n s h ed od i n s t b l e t . y g o f g g o e

i n s ai d h ous e . This advertisement was frequently repeated dur ing that year . The same advertisement shows that E Ma 1 2 he was still at ssex Bridge in y , 77 . He was doubtless the James Boursiquot who adver “ ’ ” ti s e d in a similar way in Faulkner s Journal of 2 8 1 February , 799 , where he further adds that he ‘ m has served the Dublin public for any years . Dion is generally said to have been born at 47 “ 22 Lower Gardiner S treet in 18 . The Dictionary of National Biography suggests two dates for the age Gam e ofEDinn QBuueitauIt 5

— 2 6 182 0 m 2 0 event December , , and Dece ber , N 1 822 f . o w , but fails to pro fer any evidence , as will be shown subsequently , the earlier date is far to more likely the correct one . It is as absurd put trust i n the fiction that he was nineteen years old “ ” when he wrote London Assurance as it is to believe that this was his first play . The conclusive evidence of persons who knew of him in the prov i nce s before he came to London proves that he dabbled in play- writing and wrote several plays which were acted and in which he himself ap ear ed i n p Bristol , Hull , Brighton and other pro in i l v c a towns . An anonymous contributor to the London ” E S 2 1 0 vening Herald of eptember , 9 5 , writing “ ” “ on M : M s The ystery of Dion Boucicault , says y ter ious , indeed , are his family antecedents . In America at the time of his death it was openly

m - stated that the brilliant dra atist was a love child .

Gossips did not hesitate to aver that Dr . Dionysius L fame afte r m ardner of encyclopedic , who the child m m was called , who made hi self his no inal guar n n dia and was respo sible for his education , stood i n nearer relation to the boy than he cared to avow . I n character and idiosyncracies there were cer tai nly many points of resemblance between the pundit and the playwright . Although satirized by L Thackeray as a literary empiric , ardner did the state service as a popularizer of science , doing much the kind of work in his own day that Grant i n Allen has done ours . The average scientist is n ot endowed with the proclivities of Don Juan , 6 6192 Ga me atEton QBoutieauIt but it must be confessed that Lardner was not of 1 2 the monogamic way of thinking . In 8 0 he sepa

’ nee rated by mutual consent from his first wife ,

Cecelia Flood . The date of the separation syn ch roniz es curiously with one of the conj ectured ’ u i ault s M dates of Dion Bo c c birth . any years later L ’ . f Dr ardner eloped with a military o ficer s wife , Mr s a . Heaviside , with whom he had long been

. S 1 8 carrying on an intrigue ubsequently , in 49 , after he had been mulcted in heavy damages , he married the lady . These facts go to reveal certain ’ in L n weaknesses ardner s character , and te d to show the probability of his being involved in a ’ ” li is n Bouci cault s a o at the period of birth . The writer then goes on to argue that if Dion was a n atural son , Boursiquot might have been his ’ mother s name . — In 1 8 1 8 1 8 19 there was a firm of wholesale wine merchants called Boursiquot Wood ruffe at 10 ’ an i n i n Jervis S treet . From entry Wilson s Dubl m Directory , issued annually at this ti e , we learn that S amuel S mith Boursiquot was the name of ff ’ Wood ru e s partner . He it was who was the reputed author of Dion ’ s M L being . According to the printed arriage ist f S S B our s i in the Dublin Record O fice , amuel mith M h quot in 1 8 1 3 married Anne aria Darley . S e li ter ati belonged to a family of , and was the sister of the Reverend Charles Darley and George Dar ley , the poet . Their father was Arthur Darley of

S C . the calp , ounty Wicklow The family is believed

8 «t he flareer ofavi an QBoutirauIt

work . As gauger he went to Athlone , where he committed suicide by throwing himself out of the window of the hotel where h e lived . There is also a r an te d eli c to a legend of his being taken fl g and , m escaping from an enraged husband , of eeting his death by j umping from the window of the bed chamber . 182 0 Now remark that late in , at the period i u Bour s ots . when the q had separated , Dr Dio nys ius Lardner was living in Lower Gardiner

S r . treet , the reputed bi th street of Dion But if the dramatist was born there , it must have been Ma 1 82 1 n before y, , for the ce sus was taken at that

. Un period , and in the return No 47 is marked as — ” L inhabited To be let . ower Gardiner S treet is t in the parish of S . Thomas . I looked up the bap ti s mal m 18 1 1 82 registers of that parish fro 9 to 3 , but found no trace of any child called Boursiquot , L Boucicault or ardner . If illegitimate , Dion may n ever have been baptized . An n 1 d ow a word about the worthy Lardner . i n 1 C He was born 793 , and his first wife , ecelia

Flood , was the granddaughter of the Right Hon l r n . o ab e He ry Flood They had three children . I “ n find by the Dubli Directories that D . Lardner 1 2 was living in 1 8 8 at 1 Russell S treet . Later he i n 18 2 1 took holy orders , and the Directory for (details for which were collected late in 1820) the

1 D e s c rib e d by Th ackeray as s p ending all hi s money on c o es and e s to th e es o f om h e was l th in giving tr at ladi , wh ” “ Vi d e Th e s o o f D outrageous ly fond . Hi t ry i onys ius ” D e T cke s u s e 186 the iddl r, by ha ray ; fir t p bli h d in 4 in “ M ” Autographi c irror . fi ne (tareer ofEDion fibuurirault 9

L f . address o the Rev D . ardner is given as 47 L 2 ower Gardiner S treet and 9 Trinity College . From that date till 1833 his address is given as

Trinity College only . The “ Dictionary of National Biography says 2 L that in 1 8 0 Dr . ardner had separated from his wife , who did not , however, get a divorce till twenty years after , when he carried on an intrigue ’ with a cavalry officer s wife and fin ally eloped m with her . The husband brought an action for cri inal conduct and recovered eight thousand pounds damages ; he also got a bill of divorce from P arlia L Mr s . ment . ardner then married Heaviside , by 1 8 whom he had two daughters . About 49 he went on fi nan to America a lecture tour , which proved a “ ci al success . The Dictionary of National Biog ” “ r aphy thus sums up Lardner : Not an original or n profound thi ker , but a man of great and versatile activity .

This succinct commentary , by the way , applies with equal pertinence to Dion Boucicault . Now for som e evidence showing the likelihood ’ ’ of Lardner s responsibility for Dion s existence . Lardner not only supervised the boy ’ s education and paid the cost of his schooling , but subsequently articled him to his business as a civil engineer . We can scarcely believ e that he was actuated by pure philan thropy or by a generous interest in the L future of a precocious child . ardner was by no

- - means well to do , and had already a wife and m three children to support . It see s more likely that Lardner brought up Dion because he was his I o di ne «tareer ofHDiun aBnutitauIt

1 M m r s . S own , and because amuel S ith Boursiquot im had no claim for h on her husband . Dion (on the authority of persons who remem m ber the fa ily) had no physical , intellectual or m moral rese blance to his uterine brothers . They were big , lumbering men . William Boursiquot was of a religious turn and disliked the theatre . He was found dead of heart disease at Waterloo m S tation in an inco ing railway train . Two other r G sons , twins , A thur and eorge , were sent out to

Australia , where they went on the press . George founded and edited the leading morning journal in M n elbourne , while Arthur founded the Norther ” Argus of Queensland . That Anne Darley was the dramatist ’ s mother there can be no doubt . But of the two possible fathers — S amuel S mith Boursiquot and Dionysius — Lardner all facts point to the latter .

And now , before closing a disagreeable and by no means interesting , but altogether necessary ’ chapter in our author s life , let us confront two potent facts and then draw our own conclusions . If Dion was the lawful offspring of S amuel S mith m Mr s Boursiquot , who separated fro . Boursiquot 1 8 1 in 9 , he could never have come into the world

182 2 . as late as If , on the other hand , he was born in that year , and in the house generally recorded by biographers , he was undoubtedly the natural L son of Dionysius ardner . 1 ’ h f Mr D . Don o ue o D u u e . . O s au J g blin , p bli h r and ’ o e s me D o s s c o u o s to e u e th r, t ll that i n fir t ntrib ti n lit rat r “ ” app e ar e d in th e Lond on Univ e r s ity Magazine and w e re ” u e ou s u s igne d D i onys i s Lardn r B r iq ot . CHAPTER II

’ S clzool -day s P r a nks wit/z Clza r les La mb Aenney ’ ’ N apoleon s O ld G ua r acted a t B r en tfor a by lz is

- — — s clzool fell ows E xtr aordi na ry precocity B ecomes a n — ’ actor i n 1 83 9 B a r ton H ill s r emi ni s cences of B ouci

ca ul t a t til e Cbeltenlza m a nd Gl ouces ter Tbea tr es ‘ — “ R oles ena cted a t H ull An adapta tion of Jack S /zep ’ pa r d - Fl ay s J ack lz imself under t/ze nom de t/zedtr e “ ” ee or et n of L M o .

ITH this introduction , we allow Boucicault 188 to tell in his own words his life up to 3 , “ ” as chronicled in the New York World of S un Ma 1 1 88 ‘ day , y 5 , 7 The life of a man does not begin at the moment of his birth . For a few years he is a vegetable . m — Then he beco es an animal , and at last as the — grub turns into the fly his mind unfolds its wings and he lives under the sun . My first experience of life was at a school at 1 8 Hampstead in 33 , then a rural village three L miles from ondon , now swallowed into the me tr li s Mr opo . It was a private school kept by . M Hessey , the father of the master of erchant ’

S . Tailors chool , and a dignitary of the church “ There were seven or eight of us . I was the stupidest and worst of the lot . In vain the patient , gentle old man tried to find some way into my

I t . mind ; it was a hopeless task . was not there I I 1 2 age flareer ofHDion QBnu dtauIt

It was wandering into day- dreams and was not to m be confined in a bare room , a pile of gram ars L ! and slates . Oh , how I hated atin The multi ! plication table was a bed of torture Oh , for the sunny solitude of a dry ditch and a volume of the ‘ S even Champions of Christendom ’ ! I wonder if that wonderful book exists still and is read by — boys of ten i f there are any boys of ten . “ ’ At fourteen I was removed from H es s ey s to L E the ondon University , but boarded in uston b S . n S te quare , near the school , with the Rev He ry

t . bing, a mos amiable man and a historian of note What a life I led him ! There were two boys in this great school among the four or five hundred scholars that were distinguished for being exem l ar . p y vagabonds , worthless , idle rogues One to whom courtesy obliges me to give precedence was C L m s on harles a b Kenney , the of the dramatist , and I need not name the other . There was a black hole i n this school for solitary confinement of incorrigible pupils . We disputed for that lodging .

It was rarely empty . We employed our leisure in prison by covering the walls with lampoons on the r professors . Those composed by myself were ve y libelous . I signed the worst specimens with Ken ’ n ey s name . He did his best in the same line over my signature . We used to call it our mural litera — ture . One day , however , how pleasant it is to — recall such boyish nons en s e l the Latin class was waiting for the arrival of our master , a fiery , m - G n vehe ent red haired erman amed Rainbach . I crept up to the great blackboard on which the mas «t he Gareer atMon QBuutimuIt 1 3

E ter used to write , in nglish , verse which we were called on to translate as an exercise into Latin : metre , and wrote in bold chalk letters

‘ Rainbach was fiery , hot , Irascible and proudish ;

- His mother was a mustard pot , ’ And his father a horseradish .

m ’ The gentlemen will please put that in ia bics . The roar of laughter elicited by the doggerel had not subsided when we heard the voice of the - M r . head master , Key , accompanying Rainbach up — the stair into the class room . I had no time to ff m e ace the da ning evidence , but regained my — a usual seat at the foot of the class place , by the way , constantly disputed by Kenney . We occupied it by turns . The two dons advanced amidst dead silence an d faced the slate . It was an awful mo n Mr ment whe . Key turned to scan the class . His face was purple with the effort to suppress his ‘ ’ laughter . But he mastered it . Young gentlemen , ‘ he said , I desire that the writer of those lines shall ’ stand out . With one movement , Kenney and I stepped out together, while he assumed a look of ‘ ‘

c . peniten e and guilt What roared Key , both of ? ’ you That is impossible . I insisted upon bearing

m . the bla e alone , and appealed to the class The head- master said gravely that to hold up a p ro fes ff sor to ridicule in this manner was a capital o ence ,

- and ordered my school fellow to sit down . Ken n ney , with a face I shall ever forget , lifted his eyes 14 d ue (tareer at Eton QBoutieauIt to the skylight and declaimed in a voice imitating - Mr precisely the well known tones of . Key him self : ‘ Hos ego ve rs i culos feci ’ Tulit alter honorem ,

and putting on a dej ected air , regained his seat .

The effect was irresistible . Rainbach joined in the roar of laughter with all his big heart . I was con d emn ed and r to rub out the lines , I tendered a ve y humble and sincere apology to one of the finest Let scholars and best of men . those young men who read these lines pardon the garrulity of old age . When they are old they will value such boyish memories , however trifling , as I do . S o it was that i n 1 838 I found myself removed to a collegiate school in Brentford , kept by a Dr . had Jamieson . In the summer of that year we an ‘ P ’ exhibition at which the boys played izarro . The R olla part of fell to me , and then , for the first time , my mind seemed to soar . I wanted to play every part in the piece , but had to content myself by teaching all the rest how their parts should be n thu given . I never controlled so obedient and e

- i i . n s as t c a crowd We wa ted an after piece . I ff o ered to write one , and I wrote the little sketch ’ P Lon (afterward played at the rincess s Theatre , ‘ ’ ’ n a ol eon s do ) called N p Old Guard . The success attending this exhibition settled my mind . I would

an . be actor , and nothing else “ O n leaving Brentford , I was apprenticed to L as Dr . ardner a civil engineer, and became his

1 6 abe flam e atEton QBoutitault

‘ ’ father gave him th e part of Tr es s el in Richard III (the part in which Edwin Booth made his first M s m appearance on any stage , at the Boston u eu , ’ S m 10 1 8 Ri char d epte ber , 49 , to his father s “ man Tr es s e l How far the young succeeded as , m e o m c I do not know , but so e weeks lat r a perf r an e was given — ‘ Under the patronage of Lieutenant ’ Colonel Pym (I remember th e bill announcing it distinctly)— when Massinger ’ s ‘ A New Way to ’ P a e e S i r Gi l es y Old D bts was giv n , the part of ‘ ’ O v er r eac h By a Young Ge ntleman of this City . m The perfor ance was quite a success , and it turned out that S i r Gil es was the Tr es s el of some weeks Mr L M . e e before . oreton was engaged at once , m m ’ and soon after beca e a protégé of y father s , who thu s came into correspondence for some few ’ m ad years with this young an s guardians , legal i v s e r s e e . of the c lebrat d scientist and writer , Dr L Dionysius ardner , who , as is known , eloped with E f e m the wife of an nglish o ficer , aft rward arried h r P e 1 8 0 . , and in 4 settled down in aris At just about this time Lee Moreton became known as L L e D . . or Dionysius ardner Boucicault , or Bour i l c au t. “ In the spring of 1 837 my father leased the S s Theatre Royal , Brighton , in us ex , so we all Mr L M m . e e oved to that city in June , oreton trav L eling with us , and stopped over in ondon to witness the coronation of Queen Victoria in June of that year . “ I remember well the magnificence of that pro M m cession , and also that , as Her aj esty ca e to

«t he d ams ofEDi on aBoutitauIt I 7

P m reside at the Royal avilion , Brighton , I had any opportunities of seeing her and riding over the

Downs (at, of course , a respectful distance) after

the young Queen before her marriage . “ S oon after the opening of the season , my father Mr Le M n presented . e oreto to the public of S i r Gil es O ver r each Brighton as for a few nights , ’ ’ R or O Mor e S L and then as y , in amuel over s — dramatization of his own novel his first appear i n ance on the stage in an Irish character , which line of parts he afterward became so world

. n m famous He did not play agai at that ti e , but m devoted hi self earnestly to dramatic writing , and in due course of time handed my father the manu o f ff 1 M script his first e ort . y father was so well pleased with it that he offered to produce it if certain changes that he pointed out as essential

' fo r tu should be made , but the young author , most natel y as it happened , declined to make them , and my father then advised him to take the ‘ Royal Mail ’ at once for London (the London and Brighton Railroad was not completed till about a ff year later), and o er his piece to the managers

1 P o A o e P o c h e e r bably L v r by r xy, whi h aft rward s u m e o e r e u e b itt d t Charl es Math ew s . W a g tt d with ” “ e h m w e o s i s c s s t e c o e . W far , aid dian hat want n waday fi e - a m N w c u uc a good v ct c o edy . o if I o ld find s h a part as ou e s ke c e e e a mo e come e e y hav t h d h r in d rn dy, th r ” ou be oom for uc o k A mo e ouc w ld r s h a w r . nth lat r B i c ault r eturned with a big roll of manu s c ript und e r h is “ ” - T i h e e - c c me ou e h e co . e e s t a t o at tail h r fiv dy y want d , “ T e e i s m o o e for s aid . h r a part in it s i ilar t that I wr t ‘ ’ ou A o e P H a rr Lawl es s e e y in L v r by roxy . y had b n e e to D a l e xpand d zz . I 8 fi ttje d an ce at Eton QBnutitauIt m of the best metropolitan theatres , to who he would give him letters of introduction . He did ac so without loss of time . I remember well off companying my father to see him , happy with youthful hope , his manuscript and letters i n — ~ the old fashioned carpet bag of those days , that I was carrying for him . The guard tossed it ‘ ’ on m the top of the Royal Blue coach , and he cla - G bered to the box seat beside eorge Gilbert , the ‘ ’ L famous crack whip of the ondon coach . How well I recall my sorrow as I witnessed his depar ture ! I was very fond of him ; he had driven me to school ; he had taught me my first moves at chess ; had forgiven my too frequent confiscation ar ti ce s cr imi of his pet cigars , and had made me p p ni s in his extravagance , that my dear mother would n n no co sta tly scold him for, but to purpose , for upon receipt from his guardians of his quarterly n and allowa ce , he would bring home the choicest n most expe sive imported fruits , cakes and sweet ‘ ’ meats . I say home , for he lived with us at Rut M P M land House , arine arade . other would scold and scold , and at last refuse to touch them ; so did ‘ m my sister, Rosalie , but I , having no co punctious ’ ‘ ’ n visitings of ature to shake my fell purpose , ‘ ’ would help him to fill us top full of these luxuries . “ He was a handsome youth , and generous to a fault . “ — But to return to the three act comedy : Bouci — — cault as he must henceforth be known on reach L n C G ing o don , wisely selected the ovent arden

Theatre for his field of action , and through my fcitbe Gam e ofEDi un aboutitault 1 9 father ’ s letter of introduction obtained an inter M M r . C m n view with harles athews , the stage a ager and the then recently married husband of Mm r i e . V es t s m s , the lessee ; he was at once pro i ed an early perusal and careful consideration of his m manuscript , and given the freedo of the theatre m before and behind the curtain in the interi . The consequence of which followed as a matter of : m course he i mediately fell , a willing victim , at Mr s . the feet of the celebrated Nisbet , the adored L of the ondon public , and , among the members of the company , to whom he was presented , found an instant friend and companion in John Brougham . - m Both of them Dublin born , Boucicault so e ten years the younger , they were kindred spirits and i n lodged the same house . “ M ‘ L P ’ athews refused A over by roxy , but , a month later , when the persistent author presented himself at the stage door of Covent Garden The ‘ L ’ atre with ondon Assurance , he was cordially M received . athews and his wife read the play and promptly accepted it . “ S oon afterward manager and author met to talk over the cast and arrange the first reading to m m the co pany , and , to his a azement , Boucicault found that his idol had not been given the part of Mr M Gr ace . . athews explained that as there were — only two female parts in the piece Gr ace H ar k — M s tri s awa P er t me . V e y and , her maid his wife , , Gr ace must be the , adding that he regretted that there had not been a third part written which he ’ could give Mr s . Nisbet . Without a moment s hesi 20 tithe «Karen:atEton QBuwitauIt tation , Dion obtained permission to withdraw his piece for a few days that he might think out what might perhaps be done , and hurried to his lodgings to work night and day until , in an incredibly short space of time , he returned with another manu d a Mr s t La G . script , the par of y y to be given to D oll S an/leer Nisbet , the character of y p , her hus band , also added . The delightful racy business which these changes brought about was perfectly th e arranged , and , as a crown , the title of work ‘ L ’ was given as ondon Assurance . Thus to a boy ish infatuation we owe the creation of La dy Gay S p anker “ ‘ ’ The Centu ry Cyclopedia of Names gives the ’ ‘ Bouci cault s 2 6 date of birth as December , if so , he was but a month or two over fourteen years old when he appeared as S i r Gil es O ver h r eac . , which one may well misdoubt It also ‘ Mr states that . John Brougham claimed a share “ ” in L the authorship of ondon Assurance , but I ’ Mr had from . Brougham s own lips (for I knew him intimately) that he claimed only the friendly suggestions of an expression or piece of comedy ” business here and there . ’ But in thus quoting Mr . Hill s comments on L ” ondon Assurance , I am forestalling events by at least a couple of years . Other provincial engage ments intervened , among them a lengthy stay at

Hull , in proof of which I have in my possession - 18 a file of the Hull play bills of the year 39 , in which the n ame of Lee Moreton frequently occurs . Among the parts which he enacted while

2 2 d ue (term ofHDit mQBoutitauIt

1 8 m L understood . The year 39 saw any ondon theatres , where melodrama was the staple dish , “ ” doing a Jack S heppard piece . At one and the same time seven different dramatic versions of ’ L Ainsworth s romance were being acted in ondon . ’ Bucks ton e s dramatization , which is probably the best , was first produced at the Adelphi on October

2 8 18 . , 39 This was a pronounced success , partly ’ Mrs J ack due to . Keeley s acting as , and to the P singing of aul Bedford , who popularized Rod ’ “ ” well s Jolly Nose .

When the play was at the height of its success , the Lord Chamberlain was induced to forbid its n n represe tation , and he formally otified all man agers that for the future all plays on the subj e ct n were interdicted . This actio of the censor has

- been ridiculed , and , indeed , to people of to day it seems as if very little harm could result from the ’ n dramatic idealizatio of Ainsworth s housebreaker . But we must remember that plays of this sort stand - n on a dangerous border li e . They may be harm m o r m . less har ful , according to circu stances In 1839 the whole condition of the lower classes was ff di erent from what it is at the present day . The antagonism between rich and poor was intense ; the masses were grossly ignorant and shamefully on neglected ; and a false picture of life the stage , “ S like Jack heppard , was acclaimed and ap l u p a ded by hundreds as true and correct . “ ” in S As most of the Jack heppard plays , Bouci ult— o r Lee M ca oreton , as he then called himself brought his curtain up on Cruikshank ’ s picture fi ne cl utter ofEDion QBouritauIt 2 3 of J ack carving his name on a cross - beam in Owen ’ - Wood s carpenter shop . The authentic play bill , i n which I have in my possession , would seem to ’ di cate that young Le e Moreton s version followed the main incidents of the story in much the same ’ n way as Bucks to e s adaptation . CHAPTER III

L ondon Ass ur a nce — H ow it ca me to be wr i tten a nd

’ acted - [ts r ema r ka ble cas t Th acker ay s pa r ody of th e la p y .

G L URIN his first year in ondon , the youth lod lived anyhow , drifting from one poor g n ing to another , selling the little he had to obtai the n means of life , but refusing to retur to Dublin to m ’ his other s home . During that winter he wrote m “ the co edy London Assurance . o It was a b yish performance , as he tells us , a

flood of animal spirits . It was written in penny - n copy books , sometimes in p encil whe the ink froze and he had to creep into bed for warmth . Charles Mathews was then in power at Covent “ ”

G . L n arden Theatre He read ondo Assurance , and accepted it at once . A few days after the ng h comedy was called for readi in t e greenroom . G The cast included Farren , eorge Bartley , Ander M Mm C e . son , harles athews , Robert Keeley , M ri s rs . V e s t and . Nisbet They were all there ; no such group of actors of comedy has perhaps since assembled together .

C O MP LETE O RIGINAL CAST

ar our t our tl W L E S i r H c C y I LIAM FARR N . E E E Max H ar kaway G ORG BARTL Y . u tl E A E Ch ar l es C o r y JAM S ND RSON . ll nker R E KEE E D o y S pa OB RT L Y . «t he st arter of2131011 flBourirauIt 2 5

D a l e E M E zz CHARL S ATH WS . Ma r k Me ddl e P E JOHN RITT HARL Y . MR BRI N DAL C ool . . i n N N m s o R . W . H O ER S p . AYLI FFE Mar ti n MR. . l omon I s aa cs A E W S o LFR D IGAN . a anke R E La dy G y S p r M S . NISB T. k a ME E TRI r a ce H ar aw M . V S S G y .

P r t MRS . e HUMBY . Th e la s t imp o rtant r evival o f L ond on As s uranc e took ’ m e T e e o o on th e e oo ce S t. s s o f pla at Ja h atr , L nd n, aft rn n ” u 2 1 1 e cke c s o f s s a Friday, J ly 7, 9 3 , wh n a pi d a t tar p ’ p ear ed on b eh alf o f King Geo rge s P en s i on Fund fo r A T e K ue e e A c es s e s . h e e s e ctor s and tr ing and Q n w r pr nt . To old playgoe r s it will p erhap s prov e inte r e s ting to c om pare s ome o f th e name s given ab ov e with th os e o f th e “ F r em i o e to e mod e rn s tar s . o th it s w rth whil app nd th e c a s t

u ur tl E E E E S i r H ar c o r t C o y H RB RT TR . h r l e ur tl E TE E C a s Co y GODFR Y ARL .

l . D az z e H . B IRVING . E E D olly S panker JAM S W LCH . x r k ' E A E Ma H a away H NRY INL Y . k l A B O RC H I ER Mar Medd e RTHUR U . E E Cool CHARL S HAWTR Y . m E E E D . . J a es J . B V RIDG

Mar ti n D ENNIS EADIE. a EE S ol omon I s acs W DON GROSSMITH . a E E Lady G y S panker IR N VANBRUGH . EI L O N E R Gr a ce H ar kaway P HYLLIS N S T R Y. 1 E PE P er t MAR E T M ST.

‘ —M 1 8 1 — C The first night arch 4 , 4 found ovent

Garden Theatre but half filled . The name of the “

Mr Le e M . author , . oreton , was unknown Dur ing the performance he wandered about the lobby and corridors of the house , for he had been warned Mm tri e . V e s s by to keep off the stage , as his pres S o ence would make the actors nervous . he crept up into a back seat in the upper boxes , and there 2 6 dine d areer atEton aBoutitauIt

listened to his play . How slow it seemed , how bald ! The first act provoked a little laughter here and there , and then he drew a breath . As the play M L m proceeded , he discovered ark e on , Douglas Jerrold and Gilbert a Becket seated together in the front row of an adjacent box . He crept into the row behind them and tried to overhear their opin o i m ions the piece . When the situation ca e at the end of the act , Jerrold turned to his companions . ” That is fatal , he said ; he has reached his climax too early in the play . Nothing will go ” after that . Lady Gay S p anker is the vital character of L ” ondon Assurance . Wellington never awaited the arrival of the P russians at Waterloo with the pale anxiety that Boucicault waited for the en Mr o f s . . S h e trance Nisbet came , she spoke , she — conquered . When she described the hunt in the grand speech of the play—she carried the house by m . L a storm Jerrold , e on and Becket rose in their seats and cheered . The pit seemed to boil over .

Nothing was heard for several minutes . Boucicault often described his emotions on that L first night . ate in life , when his fancy was mutinous , he was fond of romancing a bit . His story , as told above , almost in his own words , is

- probably over colored , but it is at least picturesque . Then he goes on to tell how he paced Covent Gar u not den p and down , back and forth , caring where he directed his steps , until he found himself on Waterloo Bridge , seated in a recess , trying to cool his face by pressing it against the stone balus «t he d areer ofQDion QBourirault 2 7

trade . It was raining, but he did not know it . Then there crept over him a dread that the end of the comedy might change the tide of success . He rose and hurried back to the theatre . The fifth act was on ; there was an ominous ! ? silence . Hush Who is speaking It was old S i r H ar cour t Farren as , who , glancing askance at “ D az z l e C , the adventurer , says , harles , who is Dazzle ? “ ’ C E — ? HARL S Dazzle Well , I don t exactly know .

I say , Dazzle , excuse an impertinent question . “ E — DAZZL Oh , certainly . — C HARLE S Who are you ? E —I DAZZL have not the slightest idea . The house shook with peal after peal of laughter M E at the inimitable manner of athews . very fibre of the young author quivered responsively . In a few moments after this the curtain descended . A —a strange uproar commenced din , amidst which it seemed impossible to discern what the audience him wanted . In the midst of it all the author felt self seized by some one , and presently he found himself behind the scenes , standing at the prompt entrance . “ M ’ Come , said athews , don t you hear them calling for you ? ” mm ? For m e ! he sta ered . What for M athews caught him by the arm , the stage man him ms ager pushed forward , and he found hi elf suddenly in the presence of the audience . Who can describe the feelings of this young m Irishman , awkward in anner , short in stature , 2 8 fi ne cl areer ofEDion QBourirault as he was brought down to the footlights and in “ r duc d Mr L M t o e . e e as oreton , the author of this ” a n ! 1 comedy , l dies and gentleme a After esc ping from this ordeal , he stood amid the crowd of actors in the greenroom . Their faces beamed upon him as they poured compliments into m his tingling ears . He stammered out so ething very incoherent to each of them . It was a great S night for a mere stripling . ome of the critics sneered , indeed , the next morning, and among them Thackeray , who was not then great , but a somewhat obscure writer on “ Fraser ’ s ” and other “ L ” magazines . But ondon Assurance , before very n - long , fou d a place among the moss covered clas

’ 1 It i s s c arc ely w orth whil e to dw ell up on B ouci cault s all e ge d ind ebte dne s s to John Br ougham for c ollab o rati on “ ” A es e al in th e auth o r s hip o f Lond on s s urance . L t r W “ ” ck hi s Mem o e s o f th e s e s em ks la , in ri La t Fifty Y ar , r ar “ As to ou m to d o th e e what Br gha had with play, I hav e ouc c u on th e o e e o h ard B i a lt p int, and I hav h ard J hn m n h e T e e i s e e Brougham hi s e lf o t p oint . h r v ry littl ou ou m s s u e s e th e e e e d bt that Br gha fir t gg t d id a , and th r i s n o d oubt that h e inten de d th e part o f D azzl e fo r h im k o Mr u m for c e s um s e . S o as . o lf far I n w , Br gha , a rtain f c c e e o Mr ouc c u hi s e e o mo e o t . s n y, n d d B i a lt ntir right in o wa e s s offi c i ous th e m e th e come dy . J hn s far l in att r e T e f e s hi s e s e . e e s o s o than fri nd w r h y inv nt d all rt tal , but th e re i s no que s ti on that th e s ucces s o f th e wh ol e Mr c c u o h i c e e was due to . ou t s c thing B i a lt, ta t and l v r i ” es s to th e c o f h s o ue . n , and brillian y dial g A Mr e e ke s e s s : Th e es oo n d as . S s , t ph n Fi ag ly ay b t pr f ‘ that B ouc i c ault al one was th e auth o r o f London As s ur ’ ‘ ance i s that h e w ent on writing c ome di e s like Lond on ’ ‘ As s u ce but not u e s o o u s uc as Th e s ran , q it p p lar , h Iri h ’ ‘ ’ e e s s e s ou e s e H ir and Old H ad and Y ng H art , whil ou m e e o e n ke hi s e s c ome Br gha n v r wr t a ything li it, b t dy ‘ ’

P e e e e ffe e s e . laying with Fir , b ing in an ntir ly di r nt tyl Th e r e i s th e gi s t and h eart of th e whol e matte r !

30 «t he clI areer atEton QBuuritauIt

’ S heridan Knowle s s rhapsodies praised as gems of a thought and feeling , the budding Boucic ult took bo th of these luminaries as sure beacon s to guide ad him to the harbor of popular success . They h stamped themselves upon his immaturity , and he t easily absorbed their faul s and their virtues . What gave London Assurance ” the seal of popular approval , however , was the excellence of the characterization and the sure and skilful de vel m nt n op e of the story . Boucicault must have bee born with the secret of stage construction .

- Of all arts known to man , play writing is one m f of the ost di ficult . Years of study , reading the plays of other men ; years of apprenticeship on the stage , watching the work of the most expert actors f and stage managers , will not su fice to impart the secret of the craft to one unblessed with stage instinct . Boucicault had the divine spark of the “ rn L bo playwright , and the success of ondon Assurance” proved that he had done something more than catch the manner of the Restoration dramatists and their tawdry imitators ; he had learned how to handle a dramatic motive surely and unerringly . r e The first object of the playwright , once “ marked Dion , years afterward , is to arouse inter est ; and the moment when that interest is felt , as soon as that crisis arrives , we know it instantly . ‘ The house is suddenly silenced and we say , They ’ ’ ‘ ’ ve ve . caught it , or We got it The author looks at the audience as his natural prey , and when he ” n t gets it in his power he does o relax his grip . dine ctareer atEton fiBoutirault 3 1

London Assurance seemed fair game fo r sat ire to Thackeray . His parody of the play is embedded in one of the chapters of S ketche s and Travels ” “ ’ Mr B s te r s It was one of . oy comedies of Eng i . N htr ake lish life Frank g and his friend , Bob Fi tz offle y , appeared in the first scene , having a conversation with that impossible valet of English C omedy , whom many gentlemen would turn out of doors before he could get through half a length of the dialogue assigned . And as your true English C omedy is the representation of nature , I could n ot but think how like these figures on the stage and the dialogue which they used were to the appearance and talk of the English gentleman of the present day . “ The dialogue went on somewhat in the follow ing fashion : “ I FLEY i t i - BO B F TZO F (En ter i ng wh s l ng . ) The ! top of the morning to thee , Frank What , at breakfast already ? At chocolate and the morning ? S ! H e okes toast , like a dowager of sixty lang ( p m th e s er van t wi th hi s cane . ) What has co e to thy P ! master , thou rince of Valets Thou pattern of S laveys ! Thou swiftest of Mercuries ! Has the Honorable Francis N ightr ake lost his heart or his head or his health ? “ — La i n down th e a er . FRAN K ( y g p p ) Bob , Bob ,

I have lost all three . I have lost my health , Bob , with thee and thy like over the Burgundy at the

Club ; I have lost my head , Bob , with thinking 3 2 age Clareer at Eton ahumitautt how I shall pay my debts ; and I have lost my — ! heart , Bob oh , to such a creature “ BO B —A ? Venus , of course S — LANG With the presence of Juno . BO B — M And the modesty of inerva . — FRAN K And the coldness of Diana . — BO B P ish ! What a sigh is that about a wo ! E ni htrake man Thou shalt be ndymion , the g of n — S ? old , and co quer this shy goddess hey , lang “ Herewith S lang takes the lead of the conversa tion , and propounds a plot for running away with the heiress ; and I could not help remarking how — like the comedy was to life how the gentlemen ‘ ’ ‘ ’ ‘ ’ r and always say thou and p ythee , go to , and talk about heathen goddesses to each other ; how their servants are always their p articular inti - n mates ; how , when there is serious love maki g n n betwee a gentlema and lady , a comic attachment i nvariably springs up between the valet and wait - L G G ing maid of each ; how ady race adabout , when she calls upon Rose Ringdove to pay a morn ing visit , appears in a low satin dress with j ewels i n S her hair ; how aucebox , her attendant , wears diamond brooches and rings on all her fingers ; M r s . on while Tallyho , the other hand , transacts all the busi ness of life i n a riding- habit and al ways points her jokes by a cut of the whip . Boucicault was paid three hundred pounds for ” L n ondo Assurance , and when it is remembered that Bulwer received the same for “ The Lady of ” L n and S n n yo s , herida K owles was paid four hun D ion Bouc ic ault and Loui s e Thorn dyke Boucic ault

fame «l at ter ofEDiou QBnutitauIt 3 3

L C s dred pounds for The ove ha e , it was grand ’ 1 recognition for a youth s play .

1 wh k L Mr s . s e o o c e ou ad Ga S a n ke r Ni b t , r lli d thr gh y y p , was o M c m s e h e r c e e as b rn a na ara, and fini h d ar r Lady S h e wa s th e s ucce s s o on th e E s f B oothby . r ngli h s tage o h u Mr o o s e o s e e e e . H e r u s . J rdan, wh traditi n p rp t at d la gh was to v s o e s ou s u o s to h e r a thing ra i h l v r , and br ght it r w th e mos o ous mus c u e e . as f t It t rippling, j y and i al la gh e e e e th e oo s e e e th e v r h ard b hind f tlight , and , r p at d by ec oe s o f th e e e c e e e s out o h big th atr , it arri d all h ar r int h e s e eme s ou e to th e o e t e op n and d a nd nativ p n air . T cke s o e s e e o e e s o e ha ray , th y aid , f ll h ad v r ar in l v with “ h e r ; and if th e Foth e ringay o f th e immo rtal P end enni s ’ was not s e M s s O N e ill e W o in pir d by i , aft rward Lady rix n eec e s h e mus e s at for h er o th e e s o B h r , t hav p rtrait in p r n r e wh o was ooe won S i r W m o f M s . s Ni b t , w d and by illia

oo t o f As ou e D e s e . o B thby, Bar , hb rn Hall , rby hir B th c e s s es s o e e s o m e e s o a tr had Iri h f r b ar , b th arri d titl and b th “ w e re p e r s onally a cquaint ed with th e auth o r O f P end en~ ” — f h e D e s e e e mou e o Mr s . s e s o t s or n i s . p rat ly na r d Ni b t t y w ent in th e gr eenroom o f Cov ent Gard en Th e atre h B ut s h e c ou Thackeray s ought in vain to win er hand . ld ’ not c o ue h er e s o to th e e o e s oke os e nq r av r i n gr at n br n n , and w as indi s c reet enough to s ay s o ; h ence th e none too ’ e flatte ring p ortrait of Captain C os tigan s daught r . CHAPTER IV

ld H eads a nd Youn H ea r ts 1 8 Th e condition O g , 44 ’ — of th e B r i tis h dr a ma tis t pr evious to I cSj O Fr ee to — ' for age i n Fr a nce - B oucica ult i n P a r is [12s fi rs t — ma r r i age a nd r etur n to London D r a ma tis t a nd lit cr a ry advis er for Cha r les Kea n Fecundity as a n ada ter p .

LL on fire with ambition , buoyant with pride M L M ! r ee . and hope was . oreton Alas the ’ playwright s lot , we are told , is full of wrath , bitterness and disappointment . — Young Boucicault h e soon dropped the More ” — ton nom d e theatr e had many heartburnings after his night of triumph . The critics descended , m “ ha mer and tongs , on his next play , The Irish own Heiress , produced under his name at Covent

G 1 2 1 8 2 . arden , February , 4 Neither the critics nor the public showed much enthusiasm for “ Alma ” M S m 1 ater , seen at the Haymarket on epte ber 9 P of the same year . lays followed each other from his pen with marvellous rapidity . He translated French farces for a song— Charles Mathews drew “ ” 1 Used Up . He wrote comedies of society , which society repudiated . He imitated first the Congreve n n manner, the the Farquhar manner, and fou d

“ ’ 1 e om L H omm Ac e D e riv d fr e Blas e . t d by r oyal m s o s e u M c om W 18 . e s and at ind r Ca tl , Jan ary 4, 49 ath w e ut hi s own me on th e s as u o aft rward p na bill a th r . 34

3 6 ti the drawer ofEDi on fihuuritault

- an all round success . It brought him money , and the friendship of Douglas Jerrold and Bulwer L ytton , and good words from all of his critics . E ven Thackeray found the play praiseworthy . It ’ B uc i cault o s . is , indeed , one of best works Yet because it is a wholly abstract view of life , it is the sort of play to awaken the lurking cynic in the soul m of our modern critics . A co edy of types is apt to “ lose all relation to human nature ; Old Heads and ” Young Hearts is purely a comedy of ty pes . The tastes of the theatregoers of one genera tion differ very widely from the tastes of the next in generation . Nevertheless there are , every period m of taste , plays which , apart fro their literary and dramatic value , all critics admit to possess , if not m for themselves , then for senti ental associations , a strange , peculiar preciousness . These plays are m revered , for curiosity , for tradition , for so e con nection they may have with the famous actors of the past . In this category come Old Heads and Young ” “ ” Hearts and London Assurance . For each new on a ff a generation they put di erent spect . The neophyte playgoer , with no respect for the classics m of the stage and no senti ent for the past , takes ’ B ouci cault s m first co edy for j ust what it is worth , measures it according to the amount of enjoyment — it affords him . The sentimental playgoer and he is not necessarily as old as Methuselah — looks at “ London Assurance” through the lorgnette of

1 84 1 . The vanished past returns with each occa “ ” u sio al revival , and the shivering shades of Far fi ne d errer ofEDion fibuurirault 3 7

M M h r s . e t e s ren , Nisbet , and athews peopl tage in voiceless protest at the modern exponents of S i r H r ur t La d e a co Ga D az z l . P o s ! , y y and o r ghost At the last abortive revival of the play in N e w E M e ddl e York , an nglish actor who appeared as m failed to excite even the faintest ripple of irth .

He will go down in stage history , among actors , as “ ” Me ddle the first who failed to get a laugh . To refute the charge of heartlessnes s and hol “ L lowness brought against ondon Assurance , Boucicault showed that he could draw such a wholly admirable and lovable character as J es s e Rur al t , a ype of simple and gentle goodness , of

mr s e . D r . P r i o close kin to , the Vicar of Wakefield

Yet , in spite of this one genuine character , the play has a glittering hardness which suggested the r e mark that it was the work of an O ld heart and a Con young head . Clothed in the vesture of that greve drama which Boucicault had so well studied , “ ” Old Heads and Young Hearts has all the weak “ ” n esses of Th e Double Dealer . Its world of self conscious wits is no more real than the world of ’ - Mr m self conscious psychologists in . Henry Ja es s n m ovels . How refreshing to pass fro it to the ’ genial humanity of Goldsmith s S h e S toops to Conquer ” ! Nevertheless the order of talent shown in Old ” fi Heads and Young Hearts was suf cient , under discipline and the self - denial of an artistic ambi m tion , to have won Boucicault a lasting na e in — English dramatic literature . But the turning point in the lane had come ; he must now choose between 3 8 dine ca reer of EDi on fiBoutirauIt two roads—one leading by showman P hilistinism a to popularity and prosperity , the other by esthetic restraint and economy to honorable and permanent recognition as a dramatist . Boucicault obeyed the siren voices and went the road of the successful showman . P He should not be j udged too harshly . lay writing is a trade like another , and a young author “ soon grows weary of sitting empty - stomached on ” P n arnassus . Up to this time Boucicault had bee painstaking ; he had aspired ; he had done his best to reconcile the irreconcilable . He had tried to wear two crowns : he had tried to play the double r Ole of a literary artist and a popular purveyor to E the theatre . It was an impossible task . The liza bethan dramatists wrote under quite different con dition s G S if reene , or Fletcher , or hakespeare had ’ stood in Bouci cault s shoes at that precise moment when the tempter came , who knows but the same human yielding would have resulted ? A modern writer for the stage can never be a C arlyle ; he can never be content to live on his con al science and a plate of oatmeal . To be clever — ways , and only occasionally to be true that is the inevitable fate of the man who writes for the stage alone .

None the less , Boucicault had till then busied r himself with litera y form , the endeavor to observe m with freshness and to record with char . Now he saw that the race is not to the swift nor the battle to the strong , unless the swift and strong are crafty enough to draw the right weapons . And time «tareer atEton QBaurirault 3 9 forthwith he became a popular playwright and a

P hilistine . S o Boucicault flung conscience and literary am bitiou overboard in order to become po s ses s ed o f m money and success . Fro the very first he showed a remarkable facility for appreciating what was best in others . The one character of J es s e R ur al had proved him a master in the art of lifelike por i tra tur e . was But he ceased to be a creator , and content to develop and improve the latent po s si biliti es in the works of native bunglers and foreign adepts . He was not a petty plagiarist ; he did not lust ’ for the fruits of other men s husbandry ; he did not sneakingly pick the pocket of another man ’ s repu i n tat o . S uch degrading meannesses belong to the shysters of Grub S treet . Boucicault was a literary m swell ; he was noble , magnani ous , splendid . Those who knew him best could not tell what he L did with the money he made . His house in ondon “ was a little palace , himself a prince . I am an “ emperor , he said , and take what I think best for

Art , whether it be a story from a book , a play from

m . the French , an actor from a rival co pany This sounds like boasting ; but Boucicault not — ’ only said it h e did it . He possessed an Aladdin s m la p , and he had only to rub it for a play to spring into being .

He levied on this writer or that . He took a lease of S cott and Dumas p er e for a certain season . He treated these authors precisely as people treat “ a house which they rent furnished , the family 40 «t he st arter ofEDi nn fll’auuti cautt

having left for Europe . He put a new plate with a new name on the door , shifted the furniture m from one roo to another , turned the conservatory

- into a billiard room . Thus the house for the time being became his own , in spirit if not in truth . ’ And in Bouc i cault s case the landlord always r e mained abroad . He would disembowel one author and recon s titut not e another . The process was only labori ous but it required skill . Boucicault worked at this t sor of production with unceasing energy . For the architectural labors of authorship he showed ’ little inclination ; but in the way of carpenter s n work and upholsteri g he was colossal . He found it paid best .

For example , he has told us in a magazine “ S article , the usual price received by heridan Tal four d m Knowles , Bulwer and at that ti e for 1 8 1 their plays was £500. I was a beginner in 4 ‘ and received for my comedy London Assurance

£300. For that amount the manager bought the privilege of playing the work for his season . Three years later I offered a new play to a principal Lon ff 00 £ 1 . don theatre . The manager O ered me for it In reply to my objection to the smallness of the ‘ s um P he remarked , I can go to aris and select a fi r s t- m class co edy ; having seen it performed , I feel certain of its effect . To get this comedy translated 2 £ 00 will cost me £ 5 . Why should I give you 3 or 00 £5 for your comedy , of the success of which I ’ cannot feel so assured ? The argument was un answerable , and the result inevitable . I sold a Qtlje Garret ofEDi on fihouti tault 4 1

’ work for £ 100that took me six months hard w o rk m s to co pose , and accepted a commi sion to translat e three French plays at £50 apiece . This work a t ’ forded me child s play for a fortnight . Thu s the English dramatist of that day was obliged either to relinquish the stage altogether or b e come a

French copyist . P revious to 1850 the condition of the Engli s h dramatist resembled that of the author described “ ” Gil Tr i le t in Blas , or of p as depicted by Charles “ ” P e ffi Reade in g Wo ngton . The greater number of the literary men exercising this craft depended P upon other means of livelihood . lanché was in a government office ; Charles Dance held a clerk ship in the Court of Bankruptcy ; Robert Bell was “ ” — editor of the Atlas ; Tal four d was a serjeant at law ; Bulwer was a man of large private property ; Tom Taylor was a professor in a college ; Mark Lemon kept a public- house ; Douglas Jerrold struggled miserably till he became connected with “ ” P unch ; S heridan Knowles tried vainly to keep — his h ead above water h e deserted the stage for the pulpit . M M Boucicault, adison orton and Tom Robert s on relied solely on the drama for an income . Boucicault was the first to strike his flag ; he r e M M turned to the stage as an actor . adison orton went to pieces and died destitute . Tom Robertson endured for years such extremes of want—even of hunger—that his sufferings during this terrible period contributed largely to the cause of his early death . 4 2 dine Garter atEton QBuutitauIt

For the four years between 1 844 and 1848 Bou c i au E c lt resided in Paris . ither tradition errs or he used the title of Viscount Boucicault . He made ’ Meur i c e s his headquarters at , then as now one of the most fashionable hostelries in the French capi 1 tal . As early as 843 he entered into wedlock with m m a Frenchwo an so e years his senior , and they went on a wedding tour in S witzerland . The lov ing pair started one day to cross a mountain , but on only the husband came down the other side .

This , of course , is more or less legendary . But he L turned up in ondon shortly after , dressed in the deepest mourning for his wife, who , according to n n the story he told , had falle dow a precipice in the Alps . There were not wanting people who ventured to hint that , perhaps , the husband had not been very anxious to attempt to rescue his ‘ wife ; but these suspicions , as well as the whole — story , could be verified by only one person Bouci ul n ca t himself . He was always retice t on the sub

ect. j This , said a wag, was his first successful n adaptatio from the French . In 1 848 we find him a petitioner in the Court of

Bankruptcy , which elicited the information that his £ 1000 wife had left him , and this he had not been long in spending . M About this time acready , having abdicated the E tragic throne in ngland , retired to private life .

Charles Kean , who aspired to succeed to the throne M of acready , had assumed the management of the ’ P rincess s Theatre with a flourish of trumpets . He

44 dine drareer at Eton flhuurirautt these plays have passed into the limbo of defunct m things . With nu berless other works of Bouci c ault m and his conte poraries , they have found a dusty asylum on the shelves of S amuel French ’ s

- play publishing warehouse . S ome of them might still serve as text - books to many modern play wrights who , compared to Boucicault , are in con

- structive skill like bulls in a china shop . CHAPTER V

Fi rs t appear a nce under his own na me as a n a ctor i n Lon — d on - An I r is h va mpir e Meets Agnes R ober ts on H er ear ly ca reer as a child s i nger a nd j uvenil e a ctr es s — Falls i n l ove with B oucica ul t Thei r depar tur e for

’ 1 18 2 P N June 4 , 5 , at the rincess s Theatre , Boucicault made what has generally been chronicled as his début on the London boards un n 1 l der his own ame . He assumed the title rO e in “ ” his own play The Vampire . Charles Kean deemed “ vampires ” beneath his tragic dignity so Boucicault himself appeared as the supernatural creature who could only be brought back to a corporeal state again by being laid in the “ moon m ” ba e s on the heights of S nowdon . Oddly ’ Boucic ault s m enough , brogue , which always ca e out strong except in French dialect parts , did not m see anachronistic . Vampires , forsooth , may be classed as cosmopolites , not being indigenous to any particular clime . The play , an altogether weird as and dreadful thing , was announced on the bills

’ 1 H i s c u o o e u was th e m ke S at a t al L nd n d b t at Hay ar t , ur d a M c 18 e h e e e u e th e me y , ar h 9 , 39 , wh n app ar d , nd r na “ o f Le e Mo e o as Ti m D on o h ue h i s o wn ce r t n , g in far “ A - f e o m ce i s Lodgings to Let. play bill o thi s p rf r an o e Mr A e ec ks one me s ec e for wn d by . lfr d B , at ti a r tary ouc c u B i a lt . 46 «t he d areer atHDi an QBoutirault

a spectral drama in three dreams . Its plot was P 1 reminiscent of an old play in which T . . Cooke thrilled and delighted his followers and , for the “ C nonce , turned the theatre into a hamber of Hor ” “ ” r r s m o . Boucicault enacted the onster with due paleness of visage , stealthiness of pace and solem m ity of tone . But for some reason or other , the fantastical horrors of the thing served only to m weary the spectators , and those who ca e to shud der remained to yawn .

A rather better fate attended his next work , P m ” The ri a Donna , a pretty little sentimental S 1 8 18 2 comedy (produced eptember , 5 )which ran

- for thirty four nights . ’ In Charles Keams compan y was a young actress of striking beauty and unusual talent who was M r s . destined to be the second Boucicault . M This was iss Agnes Robertson , the protégé K i n E and ward of the e ans . Born dinburgh on C 1 8 hristmas Day , 33 , the daughter of Thomas

Robertson of that city , she came before the public at an early age , first as a child singer at Aberdeen , n ext as a precocious actress at the age of ten in “ S C ” The poiled hild , and afterwards at Hull with r G the Ter y family . At seventeen she was at las gow , and she is known to have sung in public in ’ m - G S . Dublin , at Judd s usic hall , rafton treet The

1 Th k m e e P . o o e w s c os T. C Va pir e as firs t di l d in 1820 e e 182 o mes th e E s e , and r viv d in 9 , b th ti at ngli h Op ra u e ouc c u e c e th e n m e o f h i s H o s . B i a lt aft rward hang d a “ ” to Th e P om but s o e m o e to play hant , it till pr v d i p t nt draw . «t he (tareet atEton fiBourirauIt 4 7

M M ’ site is now essrs . illar and Beatty s carpe t 1 store . 1 8 1 m A few years later , in January , 5 , she ad e “ her first appearance in London as a page in A ’ ” ’ S P e h u Wife s ecret at the rincess s Theatr , t en n M M r . r der the management of and s . Charles S h e N er is a M Kean . also played s in The e rchant ” h . S e of Venice advanced rapidly , playing the light comedy parts with a girlish ingenuou s n e s s m that char ed the Kean cli entel e . “ ” In The P rim a Donna the character of Ma r gar e t was expressly written to suit her delicate style . Author and actress forthwith fell in love . S h e thrust aside a coronet Offered her by the Earl of Hopetown to take the hand of the debonair

Dion . It is a pity the sacrifice was not better rewarded . S ome slight difference arising between Charle s Kean and Boucicault induced him to relinquish his ’ n P S positio in the rincess s Theatre , and in eptem 2 18 . ber , 53 , he sailed for New York

1 h - e u D r . T o c e T e lat e ex Chanc ll or (Rev . ) i s dall v h d for s H e e o e e e c e o f th e D u thi . had had a lif l ng xp ri n blin s tage and wr ote many e s s ay s on vari ous th e atri c al s ubj ec ts “ ” for Th e E r a . 2 e e o f hi H i s fame had pre c e d e d h im . S v ral s plays had ’ a e ou s o e o th e P k W ck s lr ady f nd fa hi nabl fav r at ar , alla ’ “ o o As s u and B urton s Chamb e r s S tr e et th e atr e s . L nd n r ce ee s e e th e P k as e as c o e 1 1 an had b n n at ar arly O t b r , 18 1 e o e us m th e s La d Ga 4 , wh n Charl tt C h an , fir t y y S anker Ame c e s e ous c o s e r en p in ri a, gav a ri and n train d “ d e ring o f th e part that was ab s urdly inappropriate . Old ” e s ou e s was c e D ec e m e 2 18 H ad and Y ng H art a t d b r , 44 , — e s imultaneous ly at two th eatre s th e P ark and th e B ow ry . CHAPTER VI

’ D ebut o A nes R ober ts on a t B ur tons Thea tre JVew f g , Yor h H er extr aor di n ary s uccess i n B os ton E x — tended tour of the Uni ted S ta tes A p en pictur e of l Ve w Yor h i n 1 85 6 Th e P oor of N ew Yor “ es s i e B r own or The R elie o L u n J ; , f f ch ow B ou ci ca ult o ens a th ea tr e i n Wa s hi n ton p g .

2 2 d 1 8 N the of October , 53 , the bills of Bur ton ’ s Theatre informed the public of New York that Miss Agnes Robertson would make her h e first appearance in the United S tates . S had ar C rived in anada a few months before , and had M appeared in ontreal . Boucicault , who sailed on a m S later stea er , joined her in New York ( eptember 18 , and although their marriage was not m publicly announced , it was understood a ong their e confr res of the greenroom , at least , that they were M man and wife . iss Robertson made her début at ’ “ ” Burton s in The Young Actress , a musical inter m an lude by Boucicault , altered fro old piece .

After three months in New York , where she had m gathered around her a host of ad irers , she went 1 8 to Boston , in January , 54 , for an engagement at M m the Boston useu . The excitement caused by her performances spread throughout the city and environs ; it gained th e neighboring villages and E towns of New ngland , and special trains were 48 t i the stI areer atMon Qhuutirault 49 run for the first time to bring hundreds to witness m the perfor ances of the actress . The engagement to was prolonged from two four weeks , then to six ,

and subsequently to eight weeks . Old Bostonians who recall these appearances say that the furore

was beyond all precedent . The tickets of admis sion were sold at a premium of five and six dollars

each , and at her benefit the last night of her engagement the applicants for seats blocked up

the access to the theatre and the street in front . M M The overjoyed manager of the useum , oses M r Kimball , induced iss Robe tson to prolong her

engagement for the ninth week , and within four

hours , such was the crowd , every seat in the

theatre was bought up for the ensuing week . The enthusiasm created by Agnes Robertson among the women of Boston was so great that her prome n ades through the streets were beset with crowds who followed her from place to place . The corri

dors of the Tremont House , where she resided , m were blocked up with fair admirers , who al ost invaded her apartments . The childlike grace and modesty of manner with which she received all these honors that fell so suddenly and thickly upon her won more hearts to her cause than the exqui Ki m Mr . site power o i her acting on the stage . n ball , the manager , etted something like on the engagement . M From Boston , iss Robertson went to Washing

P C . ton , hiladelphia , hicago and other cities At 1 8 S h e Vi ol e t New Orleans , in 55 , appeared as in “ ” The Life of an Actress , in which Boucicault 50 «t he st arter of 2131011 fihouritautt himself sustained the eccentric r Ol e of Gr imaldi 1 with marked success . 18 In 56 they were back in New York . a r It must have been cu ious city at that epoch . ” It was not a city , records Boucicault in a maga “ I t . zine article . was a theatre It was a huge fair .

Bunting of all nationalities , and of no nationality , fl un in P was a t g over the streets . oles of liberty ‘ ’ accentuated the rights of man . Bands of music preceded processions of ragged boys bearing flags n and tattered banners . Irish was spoke at the G n wharves , erman in the saloons , Fre ch in the restaurants . But the chiefest feature of this poly — a glot city was its boyhood boy in heart , but a r man in man , and a ve y shrewd , head . C th e urious and quick about new world , Bouci

1 Mr A tt e e Mr E . o e D o G o o . s . . S and th rn, y , rg H lland h T w a r o e o e e t e c s . s s and Mr s . V rn n w r in a t hi play p “ h A 2 Mr duce d o o t e e on Ma c 1 186 . . in L nd n at d lphi r h , ’ B ouci c ault s o u e o f th e u s o s e u ous c ou p rtrait r by t rn b q i , r teous and indignant Gr i ma ldi w as in all r es p ect s a ma s te r f W i s ec c c e pi ec e o hi s tri oni c ability . hat t hni ally all d ‘ ’ make - up was c ompl e te ; and h i s manne r thr ough out was true to th e natural b e aring o f a man fall en into mi s for u e but co s c ous o f o e o e ee s . H e t n , n i n bl birth and n bl f ling m s o e too s o e e o o e s . W e e c h w d , , xtra rdinary p w r hil t a hing hi s u h e h as to o out to h e r h ow R c e e e e p pil , p int a h l d liv r d a cu s eec s e ce s s to e s o to th e parti lar p h , and find it n ary r rt e c T s e h e ccom o riginal Fr n h . hi f at brilliantly a pli s h e d . ’ Hi s ne rvous anxi ety for h i s débutante s s ucces s on th e s e hi s s s o e s o me e h e m s s e s tag , and pa i nat di app int nt wh n i h e r from th e ne xt s cene and l earns th e s to ry o f h e r e m e e e T es e s uc o e o . abd ti n, w r b th ad irably d lin at d h thing ouc c u the o k as s f place Mr . B i a lt in fr nt ran an arti t o m ”—T v e rs atil e abiliti es and a co preh ens ive mind . h e Athe na um o o Ma c 8 1862 . , L nd n, r h ,

5 2 age Garret ofEDi on aBuutirauIt

sole right of printing and publishing, with the sole right also of representing it or permitting it to be represented . Boucicault had used these three years in the study of the American people , their tastes and the direction of their dramatic appetites . Accompany ing his wife on her starring engagements in the principal cities , he saw many sections of the coun 1 try . He was a shrewd observer , receiving impres sions with the alertness of a sympathetic intellect , and pigeonholing them for future use like the prae tical playwright he was .

First of all , he tried his luck as a lecturer and — not a reader Dickens and Thackeray , to mention L Dr . Dionysius ardner , were getting gold in heaps un at this sort of thing . Boucicault favored an appreciative audience with a series of Winter ” Evenings at Hope Chapel ; they were so wintry that people preferred sitting by their own fires , instead of trusting to the precarious warmth of l i n 2 Bouci cau t a genius .

’ 1 B ouci cault s fir s t Ame ri can app e arance as an a cto r occu e o em e 10 18 th e o T e e as rr d N v b r , 54, at Br adway h atr , “ ” t e wa s s S i r Char l es Colds r ea m in U s d Up . It in thi — — s me r Ol e at th e s me e e th e a and a th atr , by way that Les ter Wallack had mad e hi s Ame ric an début on S eptem Th l o T e e s oo on th e be r 2 18 . e o d 7, 47 Br adway h atr t d e s s e o f o e ee P e A o a t id Br adway, b tw n arl and nth ny s e e s th e e now c e W o S ee . tr t , latt r all d rth tr t 2 Th e s ubj ects o f th e l e ctur e s w e re : S ke tch es o f Eur o ” “ e S oc e Wom H e r R s and H er p an i ty, an, ight ” “ W o s M e e or Th e V c s s u es of r ng , y Lit rary Lif ; , i i it d a ” “ Man o f e e s o o P s Th e S o L tt r in L nd n and ari , and t ry fdtbe Garter ofEDion abomitault 5 3 m The A erican stage was in a transitory state . Tragedy was dying a slow death under Edwin E Forrest , just as it was in ngland under Charles m mm Kean . Romantic dra a and epigra atic comedy had lost all charm ; the actual , the local , the con e temporaneous , alon seemed to interest the public .

And one day , while looking over the pictures of a m magazine , Boucicault thought it ight be worth while to take the events of the day into partnership with him . P First he turned out The oor of New York , a superficial but graphic picture of events tran s p i r m 1 ing about the ti e of the financial panic of 857. The play had a long and successful run at Wal ’ L lack s Theatre , and ester Wallack , then known as L Mr . ester , became the prime favorite of the town m e T m B ad e r through his popular perfor anc of o g . “ ” Often as The Poor of New York has been r e vived l m , it a ways akes an appeal to an audience , n the secret being that it is a huma play , and shows

f h H e o r e hi e e f o t e S tage . al s ad s th n una ct d v er s i on o “ ” ou s XI L i . s e o f hi s s ucce s s as a the u c In pit playwright, p bli c ou not be e s u e to cce him as ec u e e e ld p r ad d a pt a l t r r , v n ou h e u om s e to e em as e e th gh faithf lly pr i d initiat th , it w r , into th e my s te ri e s o f Lond on fa s hi onabl e life and t e ll th em piquant s tori es about th e living original s from wh om h e e the c c e s o f S i r H ar c our t our tl D a l e dr w hara t r C y, zz , an d La d Ga S anker H e e hi s ec u e s to em y y p . r ad l t r pty e e Th e u c e e no ut c o e c e hi s b nch s . p bli ith r did t p nfid n in alluring promi s es or did not c ar e to be mad e a party to th e s tup endous s oc ial s ec r ets whi c h h e prop o s e d to di s c l os e . 54 ”age d errer at2191011 ahnurirault m us how , a ong the poorest and lowliest , kindliness and charity are always to be found . E s ncouraged by this uccess , Boucicault tackled bigger game . The S epoy Rebellion was a thrilling m subject to the public ind . The news of the mas sacre at C awnpore had filled the world with horror ; the heroism of Lucknow had made the newspapers romantic . A petty Hindoo squireen had contrived to swindle and murder himself into a ghastly no tori e ty ; a small garrison of Europeans were shut i n L up ucknow , besieged by an overwhelming S force of natives ; Jessie Brown , a young cottish girl , had kept the garrison from surrender by pro claiming , with the fire of Joan of Arc , that the pibroch of a S cottish regiment coming to their relief was ringing in her ears . If one pauses for a moment to think what terrible and noble realities ff of anguish , despair, courage , faith , su ering and strength are shut up in that single word — Luck now — it will not be pleasant to reflect upon the processes of mind which wrought the story into a “ stage Show . But Dion Boucicault produced Jessie L ” Brown ; or , The Relief of ucknow , and was crowned with laurel that same night (Februa r y ’ 2 2 , Wallack s Theatre was given over to tom - m m to s , khit utgars , sowars , spleuchans , pipes , tartans , and all the mingled paraphernalia of an m m East Indi an spectacle . He hi self acted the erci ’ less S epoy . Nobody else in Wallack s company L would consent to play the part . In ondon , where a dramatization of the episode had also been made , the unhappy individual who represented Nana fétbe d areer atEton moutirault 5 5

S ahib had been dealt with , not according to his m hi s histrionic skill , but according to the erits of ” m principal , and provoked such stor s of wrath and fury from pit and gallery that the stage be came a kind of beleaguered fortress and the play m was carried on under a shower of issiles . Not

- only the traditional and harmless orange peel , but m ’ sticks , bottles , u brellas , and apprentices caps rained upon the miserable raj ah whenever he made his appearance , and at the close the manager was “ r obliged to car y him away , like the monarchy of ” July, in a cab from the threatened violence of m a mob assembled outside the stage door . S all r e wonder , then , that every actor in New York fused to risk his life in playing the part .

With splendid audacity , Boucicault stepped into the breach and himself personated the “ Demon of ” Cawnpore . When he strolled down to the foot lights , with his carcanet of brilliants , his rustling n tunic, his wal ut physiognomy , and a magnificent pair of moustachios , the gallery held its breath in im 1 awe and threw nothing at h .

1 e e mo e e s e O f ms e ouc c u d e N v r d rat in prai hi lf , B i a lt ” f r th e e s e s e e e i n th e ad s . o light d writing n w pap r , th r by H e a c quainting th e w o rld with th e w o rth o f h i s s e rvi ce s . us ually found a fre s h s upply o f s up e rlativ e s to b oom m hi n Th e o uc o o f e s s e e ve ry n ew play fr o s p e . pr d ti n J i ” o for e m e was e ce e flo oc m Br wn , xa pl , pr d d by rid pr la a “ o s e c him to be th e o u o n ow o f ti n , d laring nly a th r living , th e En s m os e o ks e s oo gli h dra a , wh w r hav with t d that — ” true s t and gr e ate s t o f all c riti c s Tim e . S uc h infe ri o r l uminari es as S i r Edward B ulw e r Lytton mes S e K o es o e th e me mus and Ja h ridan n wl , b th aliv at ti , t e have s uffe r e d a c ommon eclip s . m H e was e con N ot s o th e brave John Br ougha . th n ’ 5 6 di ne ca reer ofHDiun al muri rault P auvrette and The Pope of Rome (both ’ iblo s 1 8 8 produced at N in October , 5 ) were skilful adaptations from the French . They served to ’ mark farther advances in Agnes Robertson s art , but did not have any emphatic success . 6 1 8 8 On January , 5 , in partnership with William

— ’ — n ecte d with a rival th e atre B urt on s and hi s b enefit e e h e u s o o e o ue ae b ing n ar at hand , b r t f rth int an l q nt p an ’ of s elf - prai s e whi c h far trans c end e d B ouc i cault s dithy r ambic rapture in audac i ous brilliancy o f inv enti on and in th e r eckl e s s s ublimity o f its app e al to th e fine r feelings of our u e c o es s th e em o to r e s cue nat r . I ann t r i t t ptati n it fr om th e eph eme ral j ournal s o f 1859 and embalm it in th e pe rdurabl e page s o f thi s b ook “AS T D A EME T MR R OUN ING NNOUNC N . . B OU GHAM h e reby makes known to hi s milli on o f enthus ia s ti c m e s u e s s muc as H I S E E ad ir r in all q art r , that , ina h B N FI T i s app ointe d to take place on Thur s day e vening e e u 2 h e ks o e o o u n xt, F br ary 5 , thin it a fav rabl pp rt nity to W H I S O WN TR MPET k o u e BLO U , n wing f ll w ll i f h e oes not o o e s e os o c that d n b dy l will , and , phil phi ally c o s e e h e s o e s to s u e as e e i s n o n id r d , al b g in in at that th r individual alive wh o h as a b ette r opini on o f th e s ub s c e h e o u e os s e s s e s o f m s e h e i s rib r than f rt nat ly p hi lf, d et e rmined no l onge r to hid e h i s AMAZING LITERARY AZE DER A S E but o ou ces him BL UN BU H L, b ldly ann n s e lf as th e ONLY LIVI NG DRAMATI S T out o f th e e u e s os e ou s r e d ad lang ag , wh brilliant th gh lightly ap p c i ated ou to be th e EA T ability ght B CON OF H E AGE . W c c e s c diffi d en c e h e s m e s th e ith hara t ri ti , i ply app nd gr eat and AB S ORBING P UBLIC FACT that up on th e o cca s i on all ud e d to h e will pres ent an ARRAY OF I MPO S I N G ATTRACTION S hith e rto une qual ed in th e H I S TRI O N I C A A S TH E W R D e e e NN L OF O L , and int rpr t d by a S TUNNING CON S TELLATION OF S UPER E D H e HUMAN S PL N OR . will gratify and indulge th e p ubli c with a fragmentary coll ecti on fr om th e p r odig i ous ly p opular producti ons emanating fr om hi s own UN PARA E ED PE N for e e ff LL L ; and , f ar that th ir e ects s ou be too o e o e a o e A R ER h ld v rp w ring, ll y th ir U IF OUS tithe d arrer ofEDi on QBautitauIt 5 7

1 S s tuart, Boucicault opened a new theatre in Wa h i n t n o . C . g , D , which they converted out of an old i ’ ” 2 Ca rus s . . . dancing saloon known as J B Howe , m who was engaged as leading man , has related so e interesting anecdotes pertinent to the Bouci c aults : “ In the train which had taken me from Boston I

- saw a sweet , modest , arch looking little lady , with — a pretty blue eyed babe in her lap , and by her side a coloured nurse , and do all I could , I never suc c eeded in taking my eyes from her , except when in a nd she now and then caught me the act ; , to my s o- surprise , when I entered the called theatre on n was the same eve ing , to see what sort of place it , and ascertain what time the call would be on the n morrow , as we were to ope three nights after ,

I saw the same nurse and the same baby , but the mother was absent . When I inquired of the col ‘ ’ oure d ? girl , Who claimed the child she gave ‘ ’ a grin and answered , I does . ‘ You are not its mother ?’ ’ ’ ’

Lar . s . bress you , no Dar her mudder And she poin ted to the form of the beautiful creature whom I subsequently learned was Miss n Agnes Robertso . I was introduced to her shortly

GRANDEUR with tw o or thr e e l e s s me rito ri ous c on

f D E R E . . c—octi ons rom UN I S TIN GUI S H D S OU C S . N B Thi s will be p lute r -p os itively th e ab s ol ut ely la s t app ear anc e o f th e ab ove menti one d MULTIFARIOU S LY AC COMP LI S HED P OETICO - P HILO S O P HICAL AU T R -A T R AN D S E S E - PATE TED H O C O OL , LF N U I MO N D LI GHT OF DRAMATIC LITERA ggRg 1 ’ A u m e Re me O Flah e rt . o a s a . j rn li t and nag r al na , y 2 “ Th e os mo o Ac o 188 . C p litan t r , 7 5 8 ti the Qtareer ofHDi on QBoutitauIt

afterwards by Dion Boucicault , who was up to his eyes in business , nailing lace curtains to the pri him vate boxes , in which I assisted . “ There was a call for that night , but as some of the company had not put in an appearance yet , it m r e was dis issed , and we met next morning to hearse ‘ The Life of an Actress ’ and ‘ Milly the ’ M m Ar thur ilk aid , in which I was included as Al S hafton and g er non . “ The success of the two stars was assured at mm once , and the whole of that su er season the seats were sold days in advance . S o great was the — rage to see the fairy star , as she was called and she was really like a fairy—that crowds would assemble on P ennsylvania Avenue and present bouquets to her as she passed along from her hotel to the theatre . ten I was with them about weeks , playing all the juveniles , until I left to go for the leading

. C . business to H Jarrett , lessee of the Baltimore Museum ; and before I bid them farewell let me relate an instance of the thorough business instinct and professional impartiality of one whom I con sider the greatest writer and adapter of modern drama in the world , and one of the finest character O n r actors on the stage . the morning of the e ‘ ’ h ears al L an M of The ife of Actress , iss Agnes Robertson failed to do a little bit of business of kneeling and falling at the feet of the gentleman who played the heavy part , and Dion asked her to do it again . Agnes did it again , but in the same manner as before .

C HAP TER VII

P a r tner s hi wi th Willia m S tua r t a t th e l/Vz nter Ga r den p , — ‘ — l Vew Yor h f os ep h J ej er s on th ei r comedia n B ou ’ cica ult s as tutenes s a t r ehea r s a ls H is mas ter ly s tage ’ — cr aft Agnes R ober tson s gift for pa thos S uccess of “ ” Th e O ctor oon [ts tactful tr ea tment of the s l a very ’ i n — r n h t as alem e ues t o .Je e s o s i cudd r q f S S .

GRACEFUL homage is that paid Boucicault by Joseph Jefferson in his delightful “ Auto ” biography , wherein he tells of his first appear lu m r ance as C al eb P m e . G in This was at the Winter arden , New York , the fall of 1 859 . The theatre was under the joint n directio of William S tuart and Boucicault . A Mr effer strong company had been secured , and . J son was the leading comedian . The op ening play (S eptember 14 ) was Bouci ’ ’ “ c ault s adaptation of Dickens s Cricket on the ” “ ” Hearth , rechristened Dot . “ P m revious to the co mencement of the season , “ n Mr ff Mr arrates . Je erson , . Boucicault and I had some conversation in relation to the opening bill . I told him I was rather apprehensive of my hitting Caleb P lummer the part of , as I had never acted exce a character requiring pathos , and, with the p ‘ ’ n C n tio of the love scene in Our American ousi , as yet had not spoken a serious line upon the stage . 60 d IJe cl areer ofBDion ghoutirautt 6 1

He seemed to have more confidence in my powers than I had , and insisted that I could act the part with success . I agreed , therefore , to open in C al e b , with the understanding that I should finish the performance with a farce , so in the event of m my failing in the first piece , I ight save my repu i tat on . m in the last He assented to the arrange ent , but warned me , however , that I would regret it ; and he was right , for when the curtain fell upon ‘ ’ not Dot , I should have much preferred to have acted in the farce . S o the little piece was taken off after the first night , as I was quite satisfied l with Ca e b alone . “ An incident occurred during the first rehearsal ‘ ’ of Dot that may be worth relating , as it bears upon a theory in acting that I have established for Mr myself ever since it took place . . Boucicault ,

I think , understood me , and felt from what I had said to him on previous occasions that I was not averse to suggestions in the dramatic art , and was th e in habit of listening to advice , though I always reserved to myself the right of acting on my own judgment as to whether the proffered counsel was good or bad . During my rehearsal of the first scene , which I went through j ust as I intended n acting it at ight , I saw by his manner that he was disappointed with my rendering of the part , and ‘ I asked him what was the matter . He replied , If that is the way you intend to act the part , I do ’ not wonder you were afraid to undertake it . This was a crushing blow to a young man from one older in years and experience ; but feeling that 6 2 t e d areer atEton abomirault

there was something to learn , I asked him to ex ‘ plain what he meant . Why , you have acted your last scene firs t ; if you begin in that solemn strain you have nothing left for the end of the play . m m ff This was his re ark , or words to the sa e e ect ; h im and I am certainly indebted to , through this advice , for whatever success I achieved in the part . “ Mr I am not sure whether . Boucicault was aware of what a large field for dramatic thought he opened up ; and if I did not clearly understand m the i portance of it then , I have found it out since , i t and , so far as I have been able , applied as a general rule . These reflections taught me never ff i n to anticipate a strong e ect ; fact , to lead your audience by your manner , so that they shall scarcely suspect the character capable of such emo n m tio ; then , when so e sudden blow has fallen , the terrible shock prepares the audience for a new and striking phase in the character ; they feel that under these new conditions you would naturally exhibit the passion which till then was not sus p ec te d . ’ Boucicault s This tribute to stagecraft , coming ff m from so accomplished an artist as Je erson , see s to me the solidest compliment that one great actor could pay to another . ’ “ ’ S L O urs et l e P An adaptation of cribe s acha , and described by a critic of the day as a ridiculous “ ” ff Ch amooni piece of bu oonery , called the Third , Mr f fi rs t introduced . Je ferson and another rate “ ” r Ole s actor , Tom Johnston , in burlesque , in which they were called upon to disguise themselves fd best arter ofHDi on shoutirault 6 3

f as a pair of polar bears . The a fair was s h o rt lived .

Dickens was again laid under contribution , and a skilful dramatization of Nicholas Nickleby ”

man N . N ew o s e ffe r was next produced As gg , J

m e son shared honors with Boucicault , who ad a ve Man tali ni ry volatile , and with Agnes Robertson , mi m who impersonated S ke . We can gain so e idea of the peculiar pathos of Miss Robertson ’ s acting from the following bit of appreciative criticism by a writer of that day ' “ m Her voice is of itself a plea for pity . It is ost musical , most melancholy , and in uttering the wan ’ dering fancies of S mi ke s crushed and broken spirit it falls upon the ear as the words of Dickens ‘ do upon the heart , like sweet bells jangled out of ’ ‘ ’ tune , yet something less than harsh . P - athos of the simple , old fashioned ballad style was the strongest gift in Miss Robertson ’ s endow ment of talents . In voice , in face , in gesture , she “ moved upon the stage , the song of Auld Robin ” i h G n . S e ray living female shape proved , too , as S mi ke J e ani e D eans J es s i e B r own , as , and as , her delicate appreciation of the moods which produce excessive exaltation or depression in very sensitive — organisms ; and she could simulate the half mad n ess either of inspiration or of despair in such na tures with rare felicity . But the triumphant success of the year 1 859 for ’ n ff Boucicault, whe Je erson s fortunes were linked ’ “ and with his Agnes Robertson s , was The Octo 6 4 dine Garter at21131011 QBoutitauIt

” 1 roon , most virile of antebellum plays . The sla ’ very question was on everybody s tongue . He mm could not have chosen a more infla atory topic . Coming at a time when the most intense feeling prevailed in the United S tates between the Aboli tioni s ts and the partisans of slavery , the announce “ ” ments preceding The Octoroon heightened the M excitement . The ississippi was to flow through the play , which was described as a picture of the “ - r n river world of that day . The ve y ame Octo ” n n roo was a emotion . What word could better n hide a plot, a privy conspiracy of seditio and anarchy ! S urely here was abundant material to feed the flames that were soon to burst into a con i flagrat on between North and S outh . But instead of manufacturing mischief , Boucicault treated his i subj ect n the most impartial way . The hottest and S an loyalest outherner , viewing the play with i n equable eye , could find it nothing that the most popular of S outhern authors or authoresses of the Mr day might not have written . . S imms of S outh

Carolina might have sketched the Indian , the n - M ly chers , the canebrakes and river sweeps ; iss Marion Harland of Virginia might have limned the home life of the Atal cap as negroes and their

ff . can a ectionate masters There be no doubt, of

1 P o uce D ec em e th e W e G e s e e r d d b r 9 , at int r ard n, v n ’ days afte r J ohn Brown s s oul went marching on ahe ad f o Emanc ipati on .

6 6 «t he «tareer atEDian a ei tauIt mercy ; leather-legged Indian ; explosive high - pres nfl r i n 1 sure steamboats and lurid cotton co ag at o s . f Joseph Je ferson , who played the Yankee over S alem S cudd er m f seer , , with ini itable e fect , tells us in his “ Autobiography ” how S outherners and Northerners left the Winter Garden convinced that

Boucicault had , in writing the play , sympathized M with their respective causes . akers of mischief a in who found fire , fury and fan tical vengeance the title as they would in the curve of a cat ’ s tail ’ “ or the wink of a white owl s eye , praised The ” Octoroon to the skies . Dealing with the all Mr effer absorbing subj ect of slavery , it was , as . J “ s on at . says , produced a dangerous time The slightest allusion to this now banished institution n l only served to inflame the cou try , which was a ready at a white heat . The drama , told so well , had ff a great e ect on the audience , for there was at this ' time a divided feeling i n N ew York with regard m i to the co ing struggle . S ome were n favor of war , others thought it best to delay and , if pos

1 Th e c as t was as foll ow s

S alem S cudd er EP E E JOS H J FF RSON . ‘ b M C l os k T J a co . . y B JOHNSTON . S unn s id e GE E y ORG HOLLAND. Geor e P e ton A D E g y . H . AV NPORT. La auche . S f J H . TODDART. Wah -n o- tee D ION BOUCICAULT. a tai n Ratts P E C p HARRY ARSON . ’ l ete GE E E ORG JAMI SON . P aul E E ION BURK . Z oe A E R E GN S OB RTSON . D or a S unn s i de MR S . . . A E y J H LL N . Mr s P t n MR . e o S . W . R . E y BLAK . «El be d areer atEton abouritautt 6 7

sible , avert it ; and it was deemed unwise , if not ‘ ’ culpable , by many for us to act The Octoroon at such a time . Then there were various opinions as to which way the play leaned — whether it was m Northern or S outhern in its sy pathy . The truth — m of the matter is , it was non co mittal . The dia logue and characters of the play made one feel for S the outh , but the action proclaimed against sla very and called loudly for its abolition . When the old negro , j ust before the slave sale , calls his col ored ‘ bedrin ’ around him and tells them they must look their best so as to bring a good price for the ‘ ’ n missis , and then , falling on his k ees , asks a blessing on the family who had been so kind to them , the language drew further sympathy for the loving hearts of the S outh ; but when they felt by the action of the play that the old darkey who had made them weep was a slave , they became Aboli ni ti o s ts to a man . “ n Z oe ff Whe , the loving octoroon , is o ered to - S n the highest bidder , and a warm hearted outher girl offers all her fo r tune to buy Z oe and release the her from the threatened bondage awaiting her , audience cheered for the S outh ; but when again the action revealed that she could be bartered for , and was bought and sold , they cheered for the ‘ North as plainly as though they had said , Down with slavery This reveals at once how the power of dramatic action overwhelms the comparative impotency of the dialogue . The most novel incident in the play is undoubt edly the murder of little P aul and the accidental 6 8 d ye Garter ofBDion B“ outirauft

photographing of this event . It thrilled the audi ence , but it did not spring from the brain of Bouci “ ” cault. It is found in The Filibuster , by Albany onblan ue m F q , a novel that appeared that sa e year ,

L S L . published by Ward ocke , Fleet treet , ondon The chapter containing the episode is entitled “ The ” un P S icture . If you want to get the full measure of Bouci ’ cault s r ead /t e O ld talent , h delectable scenes of

“ ' ‘ P t i n r n e e The Octo oo . He is far more genuine and human than Uncle Tom or any other negro L i n . fiction that preceded him ordly , unctuous , “ - P e te sun warmed , and much petted , is the ole ” n n igger of a good S outher family . S ure of his — a un cer status , such as it was , fact and not an — tainty , submissive and despotic by turns , but full f of quick , kindly , a fectionate impulses ; a law and an authority among his fellow servants , and a “ ” n daddy to the childre of his master , whose place n can - one dispute , this was the type that Bouci c ault 1 8 originated in 59 , and which has since been lovingly elaborated by Joel Chandler Harris and P Thomas Nelson age . The actor who impersonated O ld P e te in The ” n G m Octoroo was eorge Ja ieson , once associated with Edwi n Forrest and the innocent victim of Forrest ’ s insensate jealousy at the time of his cele 1 br ate d divorce . Boucicault thought so highly of O ld P e te Jamieson and his acting of that, later, he

1 Kill e d by an e xpre s s train whil e walking on th e rail o acks e h i s om e G e mo N ew o k O c r ad tr n ar h at l n nt, Y r ,

o e 1868 . t b r 3 , r di ne Garter ofHDi on abomitautt 6 9 took him with him to London for the production “ ” there of The Octoroon . Jamieson was never sur i n passed the part , although actors like W . J . Le Mo n e C y and harles Walcot scored in it . His indignant protest at the slave sale , when he found he was going cheap , was a bit of acting that never failed to tell ; and following , as it did , the little speech which he made to the other slaves , exhort ing them to appear well at the sale so as to bring good prices , it touched all hearts . Wah - no—te e The picturesque part of the Indian , , m was first enacted by Boucicault hi self , with a wealth of pantomimic detail . It is , in theatrical “ m e ffe c parlance , a pantomi e part , and has been ti e l m C v y played by panto imists like hristopher J . M S L S . affi tt mith in ondon , and James , Tony M . S Denier and Fred A tone , of ontgomery and

S . tone , in America CHAPTER VIII

The B oucica ults tr a nsfer their s er vices to L a ur a Keene P r oduction of The Coll een B a wn The tr ue ’ s to o £ O Connor u on which Ger a ld Gr n ry f i , p ifi — ’ based his novel B oucica ult s admi r a ble ori gi na l ig» i n ’ — dr ama ti z i ng Gr zfl n s wor k S uccess of the play i n N ew Yar b L ondon D ubli n and P ar is The novel l , , g

the a ter - a e ene of w c v sc .

DI S AGREEMENT between Boucicault and S t flar e- u his partner , William tuar , and a p n n Mr n betwee Agnes Robertso and s . Joh Hoey brought the engagement of the Bouci caults at the n Winter Garden to a abrupt end . They lost no m L time in oving , bag and baggage , to aura ’ The Keene s Theatre , where they opened in Trial Ef ” of fie Deans , a dramatization of The Heart of ” M n e idlothian . This was followed by a w comedy ” called Vanity Fair (not in any way related to ’ r e Thackeray s immortal work), upon which they lied to finish a prosperous season . The play proved

and . a speedy ghastly failure Disaster lay ahead , — in which all the profits of the season and more , ’ — B ouc i cault too must inevitably disappear . s fer tility was at a standstill ; his facile Muse had deserted him ; his mine of ideas seemed to be ex n hansted . As a last resort he looked to his ow beloved country for inspiration . The answer came in “ The Colleen Bawn tithe Garter ofEDion aboutirault 71 The story of this epoch—making success has been told with great complacency by the author , and if m we did not know of his love for ro ancing , we might give it credence . “ Have you nothing ? No subject —no play half written ? Can you think of nothing to replace this ” - ? L a f unlooked for collapse pleaded aura Keene , “ ter the failure of Vanity Fair . “ Le t I have nothing , answered Boucicault . — ” us meet to morrow and talk it out .

It was a bitter night , he goes on romantically , and the sleet , driven by a northern blast , lashed his face as he turn ed down the alley from the stage door . A few steps from the theatre , a dim lamp i n a cellar showed a thrifty little Italian who sold

. den s i c old books Descending into the [ ! , Bouci cault n picked out a dozen cheap ovels at hazard , ff and , with the pockets of his overcoat stu ed with them , went home to spend the hours of the night in searching them for a play . The following “ morning Laura Keen e received this note : I have it ! I send you seven steel engravings of scenes et - around Killarney . G your scene painter to work on them at once . I also send a book of Irish melo dies , with those marked I desire scored for the orchestra . I will have the first act of a new play n fi ished soon . We will rehearse it while I work on the second . We can get the play out in a fort ” n ight . ’ Among the books picked up at the little Italian s “ ” was The Collegians , an intensely Irish story , n with a intensely Irish heroine , written by one of 72 d be «farm ofEDion fihuurirault

’ the most intensely Irish of Ireland s gifted sons , G f erald Gri fin . After absorbing it , Boucicault “ ” evolved The Colleen Bawn , and , touching his — ae mother earth , our dramatic Ant us again won a new triumph . 1 This story of the evolution of the play , as nar

1 i r e Far mo re c re dibl e and trus tw orthy s M s . Barn y ’ Williams s e s o o f th e e e s s o f th e as v r i n g n i play, I had it “ om h e r own s ec o e me th e N ew o k fr lip , and r rd d by in Y r ” D m c M o e u 18 6 ra ati irr r , F br ary, 9 “ m Mr ouc c u My hus band [Barney Willia s ! and . B i a lt e e e o eeme th e o f 18 e e had nt r d int an agr nt in fall 59 , wh r by ou c u w a to u s us n ew s Mr . B c i a lt s f rni h with a Iri h play h f 1 Th e ouc c u e to be r e ady in t e fall o 860. B i a lt trad mark me ant a gre at d eal in thos e days and c arri e d a s tar w m e r u M . o . We u or e e t a l ng way ll , in Jan ary F br ary Th e was ouc c u wh o e us th e s two c s . B i a lt, r ad fir t a t play ‘ ’ M us w as e e Th e Coll e en Bawn . y h band d light d with ’ th e c c e o f M l es ou Ei l O C onn or hara t r y , and alth gh y s eeme too s e me for m e o f us e s s w e d a bit nti ntal y lin b in , w e re b oth ve ry much pl e a s e d with th e play as a wh o l e . m r ouc c u was ous e m s for At that ti e M . B i a lt h dra ati t e e e A o M c h e ut on c e Laura K n . l ng in ar h p a play all d ‘ ’ V c was e e c e to s ou th e anity Fair , whi h xp t d la t thr gh f m S o e to e ce . B ut e . s ea s on . it ail d thing had r pla it ‘ Imagine our indignati on and s urpri s e to find that Th e ’ o ee c h e e for us c c o to C ll n Bawn, whi h had writt n a rding ’ c o c ee ou out u Ke e e s ! H e ntra t , had b n br ght at La ra n H e ee c u c or was pro fus e in ap o l ogi e s . had b n a ght in a n e r s o h e s o e s e u h i s s e e e , aid , and having n thing l p l v , ‘ ’ H u u had to giv e the m Th e Co lle en Bawn . e w o ld write s ‘ ’ Mr B m u N o . o c o e ece . ut s s . u an th r pi y h band aid , B i ’ c ault h ad oke us we n t o os e br n faith with , and did pr p i o e c ce T e e was e e to give h m an th r han . h r a littl bitt r ee but e we c me to k o e we ee f ling, wh n a thin it v r agr d that w e might hav e d one th e s ame thing if w e had had th e m o We ar e o f us um D o s me e . a t ptati n all h an, and i n ” B ouc i cault was ve ry human . T s m o o i s th e s e s o o f th e o o f hi , in y pini n, af r t ry rigin th e ma be o e . play, and y ad pt d

74 di ne d areer ofEDion abomitault

n curtai to bow his gratitude , and if they had crowned him with a wreath of shamrocks , put the

Harp of Tara into his trembling hands , and hailed S E him as the hakespeare of rin , he would scarcely n have shrunk from the honors . The Collegia s had warmly furnished forth the baked meats of “ the banquet ; but The Colleen Bawn deserved its

f i T s e s th e lie e c to h i s de o h s ins pirati on . hi giv dir t

c o s wh o s a h e s o e Ge G ffi . tra t r , id that alway ign r d rald ri n H e re i s th e bill v e rbatim

LAURA KEEN E ’ S TH EATRE

A N ew P l ay By

D I O N B O U CI C AU L T

e s o c s ce e s o u o f om ce and th e Ir land , ri h in n ry, f ll r an m ouc o f u e h as e e u n ow e e o e e war t h nat r , n v r ntil b n p n d h m s m s e e o ee exa by t e dra ati s t . Iri h dra a hav hith rt b n g e e ce s e e s e l ow e or s ce es o f a ec g rat d far , r pr nting lif n bj t e e uffe uc i s n o ue u e f s rvitud and s ring . S h t a tr pi ct r o oc e Iri s h s i ty . THE CO LLEEN BAWN

Founde d on a true hi s tory Firs t told by an Iri s hman an d now

Dramatize d by an Iri s hman .

TH E COLLEEN BAWN

Th e

B RI DES OF GARRYOWEN ’ tithe dlareer at Eton fihnuruault 75

triumph , for it is racy of the soil in which it grew , and a flower to be remembered for its fragrance 1 and freshness . A drama by D ION BOUCICAULT

and d edi cated by him to th e undying m emory of 11 18 illus tri ous c ountryman GERALD GRIFFI N

“ wh os e b eautiful romance Th e Coll egians furni s h e d s u ec of th e a bj t pl y .

M l es -na-C o ale en y pp DION BOUCICAULT . H ar dr es s Cr egan D ann Mann A E E E y CH RL S WH ATL IGH . K r le D al R E y y CHA L S FISHER. Fa th er Tom N EE DA L SON . i n Mr . or r a E G . . C g J . BURN TT H lan d r ea h E E y C g MILN S L VICK . ’ Eil O C onn or A E R E y GN S OB RTSON. Anne hut KEE E C e LAURA N .

Mr s . r e an ME N I I P O S . C g M . S he elah M R E A Y W LLS .

1 B c om th e o e th e w e o m y paring n v l with play, f r a ’ e e s m B i l A ou s e high r ti ate of ouc c au t s geni us . lth gh in pir d Ge a Gr ffi s o e co s e e ee om o f i n by r ld i n , it h w d n id rabl fr d venti on e un of o i T e e ar e o and a larg f d rig nality . h r nly two pa s s age s in th e play whi ch ar e directly taken from fi ne i h e e e e D ann Mann Ge rald Grif n . O s t e s c n wh r y “ ” t empt s H ar dr es s Cr eg an to p ut E i ly out o f th e way . ’ Th e M Cr e an m n c e ou u s o f oth e r i s r s . g s ag ifi nt tb r t rant wh en th e s oldi e r s find h er s on hiding in h er b e droom : “ D k oo ou s a e ou ou h im ? Ma th e e e ar bl dh nd , h v y f nd y y a s e ec e him be ke e i ts s ocke th e th t fir t d t t d dar n d in t . and ” tongue that told y ou be with e re d to its root s ! Th e C ol “ e s b Ge G f ma be c om e Th e l glan , y rald ri fin, y par d with ” Coll een Bawn as a h e lpful s tudy for young dramati c But os e wh o o es s to be s u en s o f th e author s . th pr f t d t ! 76 «t he d areer at EDion abourirault

A word about the book itself . It is now little

. read But in its own day it created a sensation , ’ E O on the more so as it was founded on fact . ily C nor was the real name of a young girl in humble he circumstances . S was the daughter of a rope G r maker who lived in ar yowen , then as now a L . S suburb of the city of imerick canlan , a young m gentle an of family and fortune , had married her E secretly . ventually he tired of her , and sought — the hand of a ladv of fortune Miss Chute of

C C . E astle hute Determined to rid himself of ily , S S he employed his hunchback servant , tephen ulli on S n n van , to take her out boating the river han o ’

S . and drown her . But ullivan s heart failed him

Then S canlan himself got into the boat . This time she was thrown into the water, one hand grasping

- the boat rail , the fingers of which were promptly ff chopped o by a hatchet in the hands of S ullivan . Before many days her body was washed ashore on the opposite bank of the river near Kilrush in ’ the County Clare and identified . The coroner s inquest brought in a verdict of murder against m n both e . For a while no one seemed disposed to arrest so well born and highly connected a m an as S can not a lan . He only walked about at liberty , but p

m e e u H ow m drama s e ld om give th e s lv s s uch tro bl e . any s o-c all e d S hake s pe arian s tud ent s hav e gone to th e Italian o e s s om os e o ks S ke s e e i s s u n v li t , fr wh trivial w r ha p ar p os e to e e e s ome o f hi s o s to s c e h ow p d hav d riv d pl t , a rtain far h e i s ind ebte d to th em ?

78 age «tareer at9131011 fibuurirauit

1 with sombre strength . He softened many of the incidents he made the crime an almost involuntary n f one . It was in the delineatio of the su ferings and struggles of a weak but kindly , refined and accomplished man who wakes up to find himself a ’

G f e . murderer , that ri fin s pow r lies

Boucicault softens the incidents still further . In m his play , indeed , there is only atte pted murder , unknown to and unsought by the hero . The girl M les - na- Co ale en is rescued from drowning by y pp , and in due course she is reconciled to her lover . S “ trange to say , this happy ending , thanks to the skill of the playwright , seems both touching and convincing .

Mr Mr . O n 1 6 . s au July , and Boucicault bade

r evoir . L n to New York Taking the play to ondo , they appeared in their original r Ol es at the Adel m “ ” S I . C n n phi , epte ber O The ollee Baw became the sensation of the day , and did not outwear its m ran n nd welco e for two years . It three hu dred a sixty consecutive nights in London and the British uns ur provinces , a record up to that time quite passed i n English play annals . It has frequently been asserted that Falconer ’ s ” Irish play “ P eep 0’ Day anticipated “ The Colleen ” Bawn as the first of the long line of romantic

1 As i s e k o ouc c u was not th e s to w ll n wn , B i a lt fir t find ’ os s e s Ge G f s om c e oo dramati c p ibiliti in rald ri fin r an . S n T E k e was u s e . e o W s m e a ama aft r it p bli h d , g rt n il ad dr ’ ” i n c e E O Conno r c was ou ti z at o all d ily , whi h br ght out th e N ew o f o o T e e G u now M o at City L nd n h atr , r b ( ilt n)

ee E e T ee as Eil . was o ck S tr t , with ll n r y It an rdinary ha e s o com e s e and s c s s o s . v r i n, pil d with pa t i r d ye d areer ofHDi on QBauri rauIt 79

Irish dramas . Facts are facts . The creator of this genre was neither Falconer nor Boucicault , “ ’ ” S L O Mor e but amuel over , whose Rory did so much to enhance the fame of the lamented Tyrone “ ’ ” O Mo re Power . Rory was the first stage r o “ mance of Ireland . Falconer was an actor in The ” “ ’ n P 0 Collee Bawn , and his play eep Day did not see the footlights until The Colleen Bawn had scored a record of exactly two hundred and n - inety six nights . Queen Victoria visited the Adelphi three times B uci aul during the run , and her last visit to the o c ts “ i n The Colleen Bawn signalized her last atten

- dance at a play house . “ n Dio Boucicault was , without exception , the most fascinating man I ever met , is the ardent “ ” i n L L confession embalmed eaves from a ife .

The gifted authoress was a daughter of Frith , the artist . “ ’ E n ve as a child he fascinated me . I don t know what it might have been had I been grown up .

- He was also extremely good looking , and one of the most amusing talkers possible ; and as he had n own childre of his , he used to play with them , us , and the little Fechters in a way that would have won the heart of any child . He had married n ! a exquisite girl called Agnes Robertson , and oh how pretty she was ! S h e had the most beautiful blue eyes with black lashes , quantities of lovely black hair , and spoke with the sweetest voice pos h ‘ C ’ sible . S e wore a red cloak in The olleen Bawn , 80 «t he d areer ofHDion ahaurirault and for some time these cloaks were greatly in the fashion . “ H O W Boucic aults simple were the , and the S oth ern s Fechters , and the delightful in those days , and for years after , too , and how we loved going the rounds of the theatres at which they were to be seen ! It is sad to think how unhappily most of the bright spirits of the theatres in the sixties ended their days . The Fechters are all dead ; they quarreled and parted before the end Bouci c aults came ; the fell apart , too , as did the S th e rns o . There seems to be something about the stage that does not make for domestic bliss ; but in the days we knew them they were the happiest

. Let of people , and we were all happy together us ho pe that somewhere the old delightful days may be found again , and all misunderstandings and miseries be wiped out . “ We n ever knew as much of the actresses as we m did of the actors , and I fancy their ti e was more taken up with domestic duties than it is now , for Mr s . Boucicault rarely , if ever , dined at our house on S : undays she worked most frightfully hard , was one of the sweetest actresses of the time , and we used generally to see her and the children in m the afternoon , before the early eal which pre I n m ceded the theatre . the sa e way we used to ” see the Fechters , who were living close to them . “ ” — The sensation scene , showing the water cave and the rescue of Eily by Myl es after he had — plunged in head first , was an eye opener to the “ ” audiences of 1860. Transparent stage water had

8 2 fi ne ca reer atEton ass urirault

from the French . Here was an instance where the m ’ . D Enne r French took fro him To Adolphe y, dr amatur e that masterful g , was entrusted the task of decanting the Irish spirits into a French bottle ; i n but the process the lees were shaken up , the fine oteen vi n r di nai r flavor lost, and the p became o e r di nai r very o e . Crossing the Irish Channel after the London run of the play , Boucicault returned to the land of his birth and gave his country - folk a chance to admire “ ” n n the beauties of the atio al drama . He and his wife made their first join t appearance at the old S E Theatre Royal , Hawkins treet , Dublin , on aster M n 1 1 86 1 o day , April , They faced crowded - n houses for twenty four nights . Had they chose n n n to remai longer , they would have co ti ued to attract for many mo re . It goes without saying ’ that Dion s compatriots greeted him with a hearty ” “ ilth Caed Mille Fa e . A modern performance of The Colleen Bawn conveys little more than a tradition to this genera n — e tio . To day the play seems archaic ; but a p — — culi ar fragran ce the real smell of the peat still n An n hau ts it . occasio al revival stirs the pulses - n i n of old timers and asto ishes the young generat o , who affect to sneer at its artificial dialogue and n n n melod ramai c situatio s . There is o de ying its I n n perennial vitality . this respect it towers tra s cendent over the puerile Irish melodramas that are man ufactured afresh each season out of the Mr n effete materials of Boucicault . As . Ala Dale d ye d arter at Eton QBouritautt 8 3 in the New York American knowingly expressed it : The Irish plays of the present day are so d e lightfully ephemeral that they will never go down to posterity . If they did , our grandchildren might be pardoned for wondering if their ancestors had ” suffered from paresis . CHAPTER I X

’ B ouci ca ult s a mbitions a s a ma nager Conver ts As tl ey s Ci r cus buildi ng i nto th e Wes tmi ns ter Th ea tr e — Ch r i s tmas pa n tomime of th e Gr ima ldi type Fi a s co — ’ of th e Wes tmi ns ter I h ea tr e B oucica ul t s s econd ap p ea r a nce i n th e ba nhr up tcy cour t -P r ovi nci a l p r o ” d ucti on o Th e P oor o l Vew Yor le l oca liz ed or f f , f — va r i ous citi es As toundi ng s ucces s of th e pl ay i n Lon don — [ts condemna ti on b Ch a r l es D ichens a nd B ou y , ’ cica ult s o n o i n ion o i ts tr a s hi nes s w p f .

AN AGERS of theatres who became asso ci ated with Boucicault soon learned one thing : he always endeavored to obtain the abs o n f lute directio of a fairs . This disposition mani “ ” fes ted itself during the run of The Colleen Bawn

Adelphi , and led to some disputes between nd Benj amin Webster , which were finally the publication of advertisements in the i Mr papers s fat ng that while . Boucicault would Mr control the stage , . Webster would direct the front of the house , which was then for the first “ ” time dubbed auditorium . Incompatibility of temper at last caused a separation between them . Boucicault thereupon transferred himself and his L play to Drury ane Theatre . m He was then at the apogee of his fa e . The profits of The Colleen Bawn ” (reckoned by some 84

8 6 dtbe «farm ofEDi un fiBuuritauIt Appended hereto is a copy of the prospectus he issued

L . New Theatre Company , imited

C 000 £2 apital , in 5 shares of 5 each , with power to increase . Deposit on application ,

1 £2 . £ per share ; and on allotment , per share It is anticipated that not more than £ 12 will be r e be quired to be called up . Two months interval tween each call .

P atr ons : The Duke of Wellington ; the D uke of Leinster ; the Marquis of Donegal ; the Marquis of Normanby ; Earl Grosvenor ; the Earl of Malmesbury the Earl of Hardwicke ; the Earl of S E S i r n S efton ; the arl of Dudley ; Joh helley, M P . . ; etc . , etc .

“ Di r e ct rs . o : H . C New Bridge

S . . C E s . 12 Lan treet , Blackfriars ; J W usack , q ,

E E E . G . s C caster ate ; dwards , q , Adelphi hambers ; L M P C S t . P . ieutenant olonel Napier uart , , ortman

S G E s . G quare ; erard de Witte , q , the reenways , L eamington .

B nk r P M a e s : Co . . Ransom , all all “ Au i t r d o s : Co . Quilter , Ball “ B r k r o e : . . . J B Richards , Austin Friars “ ‘ O i ces : C . fi 9 , ornhill r M S ecreta y : H . J . ontague . The conditions and anticipated profits of this speculation were carefully considered and caleu dtbe Qtareer ofQDiun QBuutirault 8 7

— 1 lated s o Edward S tirling tells us in rather a “ jocose vein . Dividends at ten per cent . during the building of the theatre might reasonably be Mr expected when the theatre opened . . Bouci ’ cault s services to manage the enterprise were se

- cured for one third of the net profits . Although a large number of shares were privately subscribed for , the ignorant public held aloof , slow to believe i or accept this very prom sing undertaking . Fancy twenty per cent . and a life privilege of walking in a beautiful garden theatre , ornamented by grottos , cascades , and endless attractions (on paper) The whole thing fell flat ; City men did not believe in — it ; West enders simply laughed at this flight of ’ Dion s fancy . The idea of converting into a para dise a slough of despond , in one of the worst n m eighbourhoods , surrounded by shabby , tu ble down , ramshackle houses , inhabited by the poorest class of petty tradesmen and waterside labourers ! P resto ! by the wand or silve r y tongue of Wizard f Boucicault , all these di ficulties were to vanish , giving place to a reality outrivalling the Hes p e rid e s of old A beautiful theatre he certainly did conjure into “ t being . He urned the old ring where Astley had disported himself into an elaborate arrange ment of stalls and pit ; the bygone Adelphi system “ ” Be of intermediate pit stalls he also restored . tween the stalls proper and the orchestra was a sort of miniature garden of shrubs , flowers and

1 Vi de Old D rurv Lane . 8 8 di ne d areer ofEp it mfiBuuritauIt

f fountains , the e fect of which was declared to be “ ” extremely pleasant . Another attractive adjunct was an open - air restaurant commanding a view of a la - the river , American roof garden , planned for use in hot weather . Alack for this Utopian noveltie s l— it scheme , with all its myriad of did not survive till the summer months . “ Rechristened Theatre Royal , Westminster , this temple of Dion ’ s Muse opened its doors to the

2 2 1 862 . public December , There was a bill of ’ prodigal richness . First came Tom Taylor s excel T P G ” lent little comedy o arents and uardians , in which Agnes Robertson played the mischievous - B ob N e ttl es school boy , and Boucicault distin i s he m T ur ill n u d o b . g hi self as the old Frenchman , o “ ” — Then followed The Relief of Lucknow or “ ’ n Jessie Brown , as it was know at Wallack s , L “ New York . ast, but not least , came an Ideal ” P P - astoral antomime , as the play bill expressed it , “ L — n L entitled ady bird ; or , Harlequi ord Dun ” m dreary . This was a laudable atte pt to revive real English pantomime — not spectacle submerged in - m music hall j ests and songs , but true pantomi e , m which not a word is spoken , and the meaning is conveyed by facial expression , by gesture and S attitude . In the United tates this delicate art , requiring skill , inspiration and patient training, 1 L n enjoyed great vogue under the Ravels . In o

1 B ouci c ault onc e s tartl e d a dinner party o f lite rati by d eclaring that pantomime was th e mo s t imp ortant s ub s o o f th e m G e R e s oo on divi i n dra a , and that abri l av l t d a highe r arti s ti c plane than Charl e s Mathew s .

9 9 (El be Garret ofQDi un aboutirault

critics with long memories , but the public un for tunately did not enter into the spirit of their grati i ” 1 M fi cat on s . 2 6 1 86 On onday , January , 3 , the pantomime was supplanted by “ The Trial of Effi e ” S Deans , dramatized from cott , which had already been acted in New York at Laura Keene ’ s Thea tre . An important incident worth chronicling in connection with the production was the first ap p e arance on the professional stage of Henry J . M ontague . The subsequent career of this bril liant actor and true gentleman has been often enough related , but his early association with Bou “ ” c icault n , who virtually discovered him , remai s to be told . E His father , a clergyman of the stablished E i n C Church of ngland , had a living heshire , and M n n n there o tague , whose true ame was Henry Joh

M n 1 8 . a n , was born in January , 43 As he died in 1 8 8 - August , 7 , he did not live to reach thirty six years . His father wanted him to take clerical not orders , but the lad did care to become a clergy man and entered a banking house in London . Boucicault chanced to see him play in some private theatricals and advised him to go on the stage . While waiting to find him an opportunity to make his début, he appointed him secretary to the S Westminster Theatre Company . ubsequently , M under the name of H . J . ontague , he appeared ” “ n in The Trial of Effie Deans . He was the

1 H ulin e was th e Cl own . ' acne sll areer ofHDion abouritault 9 1

twenty years of age , and handsome as Apollo . m When he ca e to America , Boucicault proved a staunch friend . He arrived in New York in 1874 m to try his luck , but had secured no engage ent in advance . Boucicault introduced him to Lester Wallack and wrote the part of Cap tai n Molyne ux “ ” S h au h r aun M in The g especially for him . on ’ tague s forte was the portrayal of gentlemen ; off and he was gentlemanly the stage as well as on . ’ Men idolized him , and Wallack s Theatre used to be crowded on matinée days by women who came M to see ontague act and nobody else . There was a story current about a New York girl who turned her closet into a shrine and burned candles around ’ his picture . This sounds like a press agent s fable , but press agents were unknown at that epoch .

Whether the story was true or not , it never turned M his head . ontague was one of the founders and L ’ C organizers of the ambs lub of New York , — where his name is to day cherished in loving memory .

After the collapse of the Theatre Royal , West “ ” minster , Boucicault had a grand smash . His palace at Brompton was sold , he went through the L n bankruptcy court , and ondo became a generally uncomfortable place to live in . But he still felt “ ’ : m strong and masterful . He never said I done — ’ ” — I m beaten . What he did say his actual opti — “ mistic way of putting it was : S uccesses live and

- you record them . Failures are still born children 9 2 dine d arcet at Eton fihuuritault

’ ” 1 . S o that don t count , carrying with nonchalance - t h im the ill for une that beset , he kicked the dust of the metropolis from his shoes and set out with his better half for the provinces . They made direct L for iverpool . Two managers were running a hard and bitter rivalry in the great seaport on the M ersey . Alexander Henderson conducted the P ’ rince of Wales s Theatre , where with farce and burlesque he made considerable money . The other C r an manager, opeland , the Amphitheatre with melodrama and legitimate works . Boucicault dug out of his trunk the manuscript of “ The Poor of New York (even then in print and consequently common property), localized it , ff m and o ered it to Henderson . That gentle an said “ he liked it well enough” and was much tickled by a disparaging and sarcastic allusion in its text

C . to his rival , opeland But still it did not suit the u policy of his ho se , where musical and frivolous “ P L entertainment reigned , and The oor of iver ” n pool was rej ected . Boucicault the took it to C opeland , who thought it would suit his theatre m and put it into rehearsal . Boucicault had co l e tel p y forgotten the sarcastic allusion in the text , and Copeland had possibly overlooked it . When the play was read to the company a good deal of amusement and no small sensation arose The stage manager did the reading, and in the Wil

“ 1 H e e o o s s o o s e m l ft L nd n, ay J hn H lling h ad , with any e u o hi s s ou e s c s ome e m e e d bt s p n h ld r , whi h littl ti aft r , ou not e ou to d o s o h e o o di s alth gh b ing b nd , h n rably ” c harged .

9 4 tithe aareer ofHDi on Qhumirault

P ’ rincess s Theatre , was close on the verge of ruin . “ ? ” Boucicault stepped in . What are your expenses he asked . He was told they were seventy pounds n ff a ight . He o ered to allow the first hundred pounds taken nightly to be appropriated by the manager , thus giving the theatre thirty pounds a n ight clear profit, and after that whatever was left should be divided . Vining hesitated , and talked the scheme over with other managers , who exerted fl n all their in uence to break down the egotiation . Boucicault then promptly offered to secure Vining by paying down ten thousand pounds and taking the receipts , whatever they might be , during the n n first hundred nights . Vi i g was so astounded at f such a proposal that he closed with the first of er . The opposition of the associated managers was “ defeated ; The S treets of London was produced ’ 186 P August 5 , 4 ; and the rincess s Theatre became n o e of the successful and popular houses . A letter from Charles Dickens to John Forster is the best informant on the success of the play . “ ” “ I went the other night , wrote Dickens , to see ‘ ’ ’ — The S treets of Lo ndon at the P rincess s a piece that is really drawing all the town , and filling the n house with ightly overflows . It is the most de o f pressing instance , without exception , an utterly degrading and debasing theatrical taste that has ever come under my notice . For not only do the — o f — o un ue s audiences all classes g , but they are q ” n l tio ab y delighted . That Boucicault himself set no value upon the d ye flatter ofHDion QBoutirauIt 9 5

1 - play save as a money making product , and that his opinion of its intrinsic worth coincided with that of Dickens , the following letter , written at about the same time , amply testifies

E G W ROYAL HOT L, LASGO ,

M 1 arch 3 . DEAR S T I RLI NG : “ When the wind blows , then the mill goes and Fortune ’ s gale is making my mill spin round like blazes . I have developed a new vein in the theatr i

s cal mine , and one in which you can have an intere t n beyo d that you always feel in my success . I have tried the bold step of producing— orig inall i n —a y the provinces sensation drama , with out aid or assistance of any kind . The experiment has succeeded . — I introduced The Poor of Liverpool a bob — Mr . C tail piece with local scenery , and owper in the principal part . I share after thirty pounds a n ight , and I am making a hundred pounds a week n h n o t e thi g .

I localize it for each town , and hit the public ? between the eyes ; so they see nothing but fire

E t voila!

1 Th e o ma be em ke was fi ve - act riginal , it y r ar d , a “ ” L P u e s de P s MM. Frenc h drama entitl ed es a vr ari , by E e Eu e e N us s c e 18 6 th e . Bri s ban and g n , fir t a t d in 5 at - Ambigu Comique . 2 e Th e s ens ati on s cene w as a burning h ous . 9 6 li the st arter atEton fihotuirault

I can spin out these rough - and- tumble dramas ’

ah en . s n as lays eggs It a degrading occupatio , but more money has been made out of guano than out of poetry .

Believe me , very sincerely yours ,

I I D ON BOUC CAULT .

CHAP TER X

B ouci ca ul t i n hi s na t — r i ve city P eculi a r r el a ti ons M i s ti /1g — between hi nt a nd J oh n B r ough a m Fi r s t pr od ucti on “ ” - - — of Ar r a h na P ogue i n D ubli n S oci a l s uccess of “ th e B ouci ca ul ts i n th e I r i s h capita l Ar r a h - na ” P ogue r ewr itten a nd pr od uced i n London Tr a ns

’ l a ted i nto Fr ench a nd a cted i n P a r i s B ouci ca ult s ” new ver s i on o Zh e Wea r i n o th e Gr een th e I r i s h f g f , n tiona l a nthem a .

H E charges of plagiarism that followed Boucicault around the world did not weigh i heavily upon his conscience . He cla med the right him to choose the material that suited , and his art lay in fashioning it into fresh forms and imbuing it! with new meaning and beauty . “ Genial John ” Brougham is credited with say “ : ing Och , sure , Dion is the boy for borrowing and o ff stealing . His first experience in passing the works of others was at the age of four years , when he wrote the whole of ‘ P aradise Lost ’ in a neat and distinguishable hand , and presented it to his ” mother as his own composition . Whereupon Boucicault was moved to remark “ : gravely Originality , speaking by the card , is a quality that never existed . An author cannot exist without progenitors , any more than a child can . ” We are born of each other . There was something paradoxical in the per 9 7 9 8 «Elbe career at Eton fihmuirault sonal relations existing between Brougham and f Boucicault . Face to face , they were af ectionate m compatriots , brimful of utual admiration . What they said of each other behind each other ’ s back “ ” was a horse of another color, their remarks ranging all the way from indulgent sarcasm to Mr bitter vindictiveness . . William Winter has ex plained this anomalous situation by quoting Dr . ’ “ : S i r Johnson s sage remark , the Irish are a fair ” people . They never speak well of one another . “ The autumn of 1 864 found the Genial John and the dapper Dion i n their native city in the land L of the shamrock . ong an exile from Ireland ,

Brougham , as actor , author and manager , had written his n ame large in the annals of the Ameri n o f C c a stage . At the outbreak the ivil War he had left New York and joined forces i n London n with Charles Fechter , whom he fur ished with one — “ ’ ” of his most effective plays The Duke s Motto ; now t a and , at the urgen pleading of Boucic ult, he came to Dublin to originate the rOl e of C olonel ’ “ B nal O Gr ad i n n ew - na ag e y a Irish play , Arrah ” ’ P n . ogue , fresh from Dio s pen w Of all the characters Boucicault dre , he said he n n considered the jovial , urbane Irish ge tlema ’ — O Gr ady the best as a true type because the most unconscious . Brougham , after hearing him read i n n the play , agreed with him this Opinio , adding ’ “ with true O Gr ady unconsciousn ess : He is a great part , but where are you going to get a man to play him

I O O d ye (tarrer ofEp ic! muurirault

On the 2 5th of November i t was performed by command of the Lord Lieutenant and Lady Wode ou t house , the curtain that nigh rising at ’ m “ . C o clock After this endorse ent of the astle , Boucicault became the lion of the hour in his native P city . eople pointed him out to one another in promenading S ackville S treet or driving through ’ M S tephen s Green . The grand folk of errion

S quare showered social invitations upon him . His ’ own debonair ways and his wife s charm of man — n e r made them welcome i n Dublin drawing rooms own for their sakes , quite apart from the interest r attaching to them as stage favo ites . They were frequent guests at the house of S i r William Wilde ’ L ’ (Oscar s father), and at ady Ferguson s , wife of

Ferguson , the poet . “ Mr P i n . Once Dublin , relates ercy Fitzgerald , I was invited to a party given on a rather c ecen tric principle . It was to commence with a lunch at two ; there was a concert , conversation , and tea to follow , until dinner was reached . This was , as m may be i agined , a serious original business , for there were a large number of persons to be pro i d . v de for . After the dinner there was a dance Mr P un s . The hostess was arnell , mother of the — crowned King an agreeable American lady with m handsome daughters . It was here that I et Dion wh o Boucicault , was at the height of his reputa an n tion . He was interesting , and eve brilliant man , and greatly followed by the public gaze , for he was assumed to be safe and clever , shrewd and «t he flareer atE ton QBourirault l O I — far seeing . With him was his charming wife the , original attractive C oll e e n B awn of the scarl e t cloak . They were a happy and affectionate pair , and she seemed to have great pride in her h us ’

. m band s gifts How in this case , as in so any

others , came a disastrous change , is well known .

fi rm un In his dramatic work Boucicault had a , erring touch . He was a most accomplished play wright . “ At this time he was on the point of bringing out , at the old Theatre Royal , Dublin , his second — - P Irish drama , Arrah na ogue , and it was ex traor di n ar y what pains he took , and what sagacity he showed , in the preparation . I was present at the first performance . It was an altogether differ m ent piece from what it afterwards beca e . There was a last act , in which there was an Irish duel , in a room where the faithful S haun is so carried away by his excitement as to stand before his ’ master , regardless of the opponent s pistol which ‘ ’ im M a . covered him , and eagerly direct his eeting him on the next day , and congratulating him , he entered gravely on a discussion of the subject . To my surprise , he quietly pointed out that the last act would n ever do and must come out altogether .

The rest must be rewritten , the interest coneen r ex er i t ate d . He was glad that he had made the p m ment , as it gave him the opportunity of re oving sad defects . This was an instructive lesson in the craft . Accordingly , when it was reproduced in ”

L n . ondon , I could scarcely recog ize it 1 02 fi ne flatter ofmi en QBnud tauIt

1 John Brougham played in both versions , and when he heard that the first piece was undergoing revision he remarked that he could not conceive what the author wanted more than the success the E play had obtained in Dublin . verything had gone swimmingly—even the Lord Lieutenant had come in state to see the production . Just then the cur tain went down on one of the acts , and the two tt went out before it to take the call . S o o voce to

Boucicault, amidst the hail of cheers , Brougham “ : said Damn it, Dion , what do you want better than that ? C an ’ t you leave well enough alone ?” But Dion was not to be deceived by the exuber m f emotionaL I r i s h ant enthusias o an audience . m 1 After the Dublin run ended on Dece ber 7, he set to work to rewrite the play . It is instructive to trace the same hand working out two distinct forms from the same material , as a sculptor while ’ shaping a ch ef d ceuvr e makes several groups be fore he finally concludes ou the best . The last act r was entirely new . In it was int oduced the ’ mechanical effect of S haun s escape from his cell in the old tower , followed by the climb up the ivied wall and the rescue of Ar r ah from the F clutches of e eney . This was looked upon as a triumph of illusion . Boucicault scheduled the new version for pro duction in London at the P rincess ’ s Theatre on

1 O ne of th e e s s eec e s th e u e e b t p h in play . that tt r d by ’ “ O Gr ad on o o ff th e s ec o act e A m y g ing in nd , Oh , Fath r da , ’ ’ why did n t y ou d i e with all your rib s in your b o dy PI was ’ Brougham s own int erp olati on .

1 04 tithe d areer of9131011 QBowirauIt

— - product . The long run of Arrah na Pogue in the French capital discountenanced the prevalent belief among London managers that their suc P cesses were incapable of transference to aris . ’ Bouci cault s Furthermore , it gave the lie to de tractors , who declared that every play from his pen had a French origin . But by far the most noteworthy feature in con “ ” — - n ection with Arrah na Pogue was the new i n - birth this play of the old street ballad , The ” 1 Wearing of the Green . The original song ap 1 pears to date back to about the year 798 . At the m m m suggestion of his mother , who re e bered so e

1 Wh en B ouc i cault fir s t s ang th e s ong in L ond on on th e “ ” e o f A - - P o u e e e w as s o m o f Op ning night rrah na g , th r a t r e The o u o f Cl e r ke nw all s o th e prot s t . bl wing p pri n by A h e Feni an s was an event o f r ec ent occurr enc e . gains t t a c e o f h is m e e s wh o m o e h im n ot dvi anag r and fri nd , i pl r d T e m e c om h to s h e e s s e . c e t e ing it , p r i t d h n a an di t fr c abine t mini s te r s o f Q ue en Vi ctori a prohibiting th e s ing o f th e s o G e for e s ou ing ng in r at Britain ; and y ar , alth gh e th e e o f e e s m w as e e e it thrill d h art v ry Iri h an, it n v r h ard in th e Briti s h domini ons . Had B ouc i c ault live d till th e Q ueen paid h er las t vi s it to e e s h e c o s e e to th e e o f th e Ir land , wh n n nt d w aring s m ock h e ou e e e as th e o e ha r , w ld hav b h ld , r yal party land d ’ om H er M es s c th e oo s us e s fr aj ty ya ht , drag n , f ili r and ce s u u u o m to s u e e s o e e lan r drawn p in f ll nif r al t th ir v r ign , a s of s m oc k on e e e s th e uee prig ha r v ry br a t , and Q n —“ greete d by th e s ong s he had onc e forbade Th e We aring ” o f th e Green. th e e e e s s e e - e s s on s In int rv ning y ar , aid an y witn thi c c s o th e me o s eems to o all th e o s o f O a i n , l dy that h ld path Ire land had b een s ung from th e c abin s o f Connaught to ’ th e c amp s o f Iri s h re giment s fighting England s battl e s

om th e e to A s . K h as o fr Cap fghani tan ipling t ld , in N am a Doo h ow e c e to th e mou s g y la, it had r a h d ntain e o f Thib t . d ye ca reer of2131011 QBouritauIt 16 5

m of the lines , Boucicault unearthed the old elody , wrote new words and introduced the song in the wedding scene at the end of the first act of the “ ” e G play . The W aring of the reen has been de “ ” scribed by a writer in the London Athen aeum as probably the finest street - ballad e ver writt e n ; it deserves to be called the Irish National Anthem — i i any piece of poetry can claim that title ; it m has become the standard song of Irish patriotis . I t The bands play it and prima donnas sing it . is heard oftener than any of Tom Moore ’ s ballads and its popularity is constantly growing . CHAPTER XI

H ome li e o th e ou i ca ults i n ondon —Jos e h J e f f B c L . p f fer s on a r r i ves fr om Aus tr a li a Fi r s t pr oducti on of “ ”— R ip Va n Wi nkl e f us t h ow fa r J ef er s on is i n debted t u a ul t or h i s i m er i s h a ble r ea tion o B o cic f p c . DO not wish to overload my pages with quo tation b t , u a certain latitude in this matter is allowable and indeed necessary . John Hollings “ M L ” head , in his autobiography , y ifetime , gives the following perfect p en picture : “ The Bouci c aults lived close to their work in the upper part of a house in Regent S n P treet, early opposite the old olytechnic , sur 1 a rounded by large and young family , happy themselves , and a source of happiness to many — others myself amongst the n umber Bouci — c ault was a patient and constant worker a

’ 1 T ee o f B ouc icault s c e o f e a e hr hildr n, by right h rit g , h e o M s s have gaine d di s tincti on b ehind t fo tlights . i Nina m e f B ouci cault h as acte d char ingly in a wide—vari ty o parts wh u b e f h A Mr D G . o s e to e on b oth s id s o t e tlanti c . . . d ‘ ’ ’ k o as D ot Ame c but h as n ow ke hi s e s n w—n in ri a , ta n fath r me o e e u es me i s e s e eme na w rthily p rp t at that na , and t d - Au e th e mos t exp e rt s tage manage r in Lond on to day . br y ’ B ouci c ault s brilliant p e rs onati ons o f Ki ng Ch ar les I I in “ ” “ ” M s e s s e an d Kar l H ei nr i ch e e e i tr N ll , in Old H id lb rg , Th e u me e o f Au e on ar e re adily r ecall e d . nti ly d ath br y he N ew k os All u 10 1 1 occu e t o . J ly , 9 3 , rr d in Y r H pital three B oucicaults s h ow ed thems elve s p os s es s e d n ot only T m r un o f e but o f c e e s . s e e s to tal nt , fa il v r atility hat gift in th e B ouc i cault bl ood .

16 8 ti the «tareer atEton abomirault

C Felix Rogers were in the cast . hristopher J . S mith , the pantomimist , enacted the silent dwarf “ ” him with the keg . The business arranged by for Mr ff . Je erson was always afterward followed by those who played this part . The idea of the spirits of Hendrick Hudson and his crew remaining silent was the happy i n ’ a spiration of Jefferson . It ws the actor s delicacy of art in his treatment of the scenes in the moun tains that made the Catskill spooks at all con “ vi ncin g . In all the old versions of Rip , they “ ” talked and sang . Rip Van Winkle proved Jef ’ fer s on s pi ece d e r es i s tance for the rest of his long and successful career , and will doubtless prove his passport to the consideration of pos ? ’ te rity That the success of B ouc icault s version “ ’ of Rip was due almost solely to Jefferson s acting , I do most potently believe . That Wash ’ i ngton I rving s scant little story was an unactable proposition till Boucicault touched it with his ’

W . izard s wand , is proven by history Here is ’ ’ Bouci c ault s story of the genesis of Jefferson s success “ in L He walked into my study ondon , and I rose

e s u ke a — o e o f e ffe s o e e hi s Charl B r , h lf br th r J r n, app ar d in own e s o th e A c S e e T e e P e v r i n at r h tr t h atr , hilad lphia , in

18 s u o e effe s o as S e th th e kee e . 49 , pp rt d by J r n , inn p r In e e s e ff e s o cke o us e s e s o lat r y ar J r n and Ha tt b th d thi v r i n, although the fir s t v e r s i on produce d by Hacke tt h ad b een 2 made by Bayl e B e rnard a s e arly a s 183 . “ ” 1 w as D o ouc c u s s eme S co s c us s It i n B i a lt, ay Cl nt tt, di “ th e e o u o of th e wh o ce th e c e on ing v l ti n play, pla d pinna l a s olid foundati on and c rowne d th e w ork built up s tone ” by s tone . fi tbe st arter ofEDi nn l ouri tault 16 9

o with sincere pleasure to greet my old c lleague ,

- ff . 1 86 s mm me Je erson This was in 5 , and in u er ti .

I had not seen him for five years . Who remem bers the Winter Garden where he played Cal e b ‘ ’ ‘ P lummer in Dot and S al em S cudder in The O c ’ toroon in 1 859 ? During these intervening years he had been westwards in Australia ; I had been in

London . “ f L Je ferson was anxious to appear in ondon .

All his pieces had been played there . The m an agers would not give him an appearance unless f he could o fer them a new play . He had played a ‘ ’ m piece called Rip Van Winkle , but when sub itted to their perusal they rej ected it . S till he was so desirous of playing Rip that I took down Washing ’ ton Irving s story and read it over . It was hope ‘ ’ ‘ lessly undramatic . Joe , I said , this old sot is not m a pleasant figure . He lacks ro ance . I dare say i s you made a fine sketch of the old beast , but there no interest in him . He may be picturesque , but he is not dramatic . I would prefer to start him in a — play as a young scamp thoughtless , gay , just such

- — a curly headed , good humored fellow as all the vil lage girls would love , and the children and dogs ’ would run after . “ Jefferson threw up his hands in despair . It was totally opposed to his artistic preconception .

i . But I nsisted , and he reluctantly conceded “

. Well , I wrote the play as he plays it now It was not much of a literary production , and it was im with some apology that it was handed to h . He ‘ ’ : s read it , and when he met me I said It a poor 1 16 tithe d areer atEton aboutirault

’ ‘ ’ ‘ thing , Joe . Well , he replied , it is good enough ’ for me . It was produced . Three or four weeks afterward he called on me , and his first words ‘ were : You were right about making Rip a young man . Now I could not conceive and play him in ’ any other shape . m How s all a thing is a seed , yet how grand a tree springs from an acorn ! Irving supplied the seed without which the dramatist would have been ff r e barren , and Je erson would have possibly — um mained a statue without a pedestal prostrate , ” recognized and unknown .

This anecdote , which , by the way , has become a part of stage history , is not intended to prove the play of “ Rip Van Winkle ” a great and glorious masterpiece . On the contrary , it is the veriest pot ff boiler, and without Joseph Je erson would not ’ B ouci cault s have long endured . But without clever turn of the wrist , the subtlest of actors could l n ever have made the r O e of Rip attractive . Ri Van Wi nkl e f As p , Joseph Je ferson burst into world - wide fame and his name became a household

- word among English speaking people . The which is writ in dramatic history !

1 1 2 tithe Gareer atE ton fibuurirault have availed himself of some suggestions from the great novelist . The cast was a strong one , includ J h nn R ill M o e r s . ing the author as y y, a sailor ; Boucicault as J ane L e ar oyd ; S am Emery as N oah L ear d L o ; . C . C , y J owper a iverpool favorite , as J e m S tar ki M e . one enn . , and H Widdicombe as yp y S L imultaneously with the ondon production , the play was given in New York at the Olympic The atre . J . H . S toddart scored an overwhelming hit Mon e enn as yp y, the irascible old lawyer whose brusque and churlish exterior hides a kind and ten “ ” r L der hea t . The ong S trike was an admirably f m e fective play , and the telegraph scene exe plifies ’ B uci c ul o a t s stagecraft at its best . I n S 6 the same year , on aturday , October , on the occasion of the opening of the Holborn Theatre , “ ” The Flying S cud was first seen . It was one of the first of that interminable series of plays called “ ” racing dramas , full of direct claptrap appeals “ n l which the gallery ever fails to answer . The F y S ing cud flew away with high stakes , both in ’ L n 2 ondo and in New York (Wallack s , April 4 , But the critics shook their heads i n sorrow and said that Dion Boucicault was called to higher things . 1 866 November 5 , , saw Hunted Down ; or , The m ’ L M L S t. Two ives of ary eigh at Ja es s Theatre , L under the management of ouisa Herbert . This “ a play owes its origin to a French drama , Femme M ” Deux aris . It was the happy instrument in bringing Henry Irving to the front . Originally P ’ M produced at the rincess s Theatre , anchester , in di ne QI areer ofBDion 25 6 11111116 11 1 1

M r the previous August , Kate Terry played a y i L e gh and Henry I rving was the R awd on S c uda

mor e . E ver alert to scent latent genius , Boucicault was keenly alive to the unusual power di s played by

Irving . Accordingly he stipulated with Miss H e r “ ” bert that when Hunted Down was acted in Lon

o don , she should engage the then unknown act r .

His judgment again proved unerring , and Irving made a strong impression as the down - at- heel

m - ga bler who bullies his patient, broken spirited wife with relentless cruelty . C harles Dickens , on seeing Henry Irving in ” “ : M Hunted Down , said enthusiastically ark my ” 1 words , that man will be a great actor . M 2 1 86 E . . S was On onday , April 9 , 7, A othern seen in a play called A Wild Goose Chase” at the

Haymarket . This was a dramatization by Bouci “ ’ ” cault L L of ady eigh s Widowhood , a military “ ’ novel that had appeared in Blackwood s Maga ” L zine and hit the popular taste of the day . ester Wallack derived his “ Rosedale from the same “ G source . No such success attended A Wild oose

C ff . S hase , which was a long , rambling a air oth Ca tai n R ober t D evli n ern appeared as p , and had the support of such fine players as Henry Howe ,

k C Mr s . Buc stone , aroline Hill , Ione Burke and

Chippendale . ’ P e S h e At the rince of Wales s Th atre , How ” m 2 1 1 86 Loved Him was produced on Dece ber , 7 ’ (it had been tentatively acted at Wallack s , New

’ 1 Mr e h ee e e b th e o e s s s on . Thi s as b n v rifi d y n v li t , H nry k D i c ens . 1 14 age stI areer of 2131011 QBuurirault

Ma York, in y , The Bancrofts built high on L M hopes its success in ondon . H . J . ontague D i ck H ear tle M Atalant played y, and arie Wilton , a Cr ui i s er . S r S quire Bancroft , who made a hit as B e e ch er S r awl e p y, says in his memoirs that all went well up to the end of the third act , when a situation went all wrong, and the rest of the play a was not allowed to redeem the mistake . He p pears to have regretted it , as the piece had genuine merit . Boucicault called it a comedy of character nd a conversation . This failure was soon forgotten in the contro “ ” vers P y excited by Foul lay, in which he col ? l aborated with Charles Reade It was produced M n a 2 8 1868 . C at the Holbor , y , harles Reade grew very wrathy when a critic exposed its French “ ” Le P MM ourni er origin , ortefeuille Rouge , by . F M and eyer . Reade stoutly maintained that he knew nothing of the French play, and brought suit for libel against the journal that accused him of plagiar ” ism Foul Play has been wantonly travestied

“ 1 Thi s collab o rati on gratified Charl e s Re ad e more thoroughly than any during hi s lifetime ; and although he ‘ ’ ff Mr uc c u a s l fox e s e eme o c ou c . o s ld ha B i a lt a y , t d b th n hi s s oc i ety and hi s fri end s hip ve ry highly . On o e o cca s o e em k was e s a eme of i n, wh n a r ar hazard d in di par g nt a m s e em n h e u e co em uous on dra a by thi g ntl a , t rn d nt pt ly ‘ th e s pe aker with th e que ry : Will y ou find me anoth er ’ man E wh o cou e s uc a ? N or was in ngland ld writ h a —pl y Mr ou c u e e ke ee h e en hi s e e . c s b li f in B i a lt v r ha n ind d , vi e d hi s capac ity for commanding b oth th e t e ar s and ” m e h e u e th e s o s e an d of t a e . la ght r, a t ni h nt d light g ll ry

Me moi r o har l es R ea de es . Rea e th e s f C , by Charl L d and

R om o Re e 188 . ev . C pt n ad , 7

1 1 6 tithe flareer of2131011 abomirauft

tacked with nervous prostration , which obliged him to retire to private life . But the ruling pas sion would not be bidden , and in the seclusion of his retreat he adapted “ P resumptive Evidence” “ L L ” from e Courrier de yons . This followed After Dark ’ s ” nine months ’ run at the P rincess ’ s M a 10 1 86 . on y , 9 It was in two acts , a much ’ C Reade s shorter play than harles accepted version , “ M ” Mm The Lyons ail . e . Celeste appeared as

Josephine Dubose . “ m an For osa ; or , The Railroad to Ruin was “ ” at L Au other thriller , produced Drury ane on

- - 1 86 . C gust 5 , 9 The Oxford ambridge boat race constituted the chief feature of the play . The title “ Formosa” was derived from the name of an “ C S ea — island in the hina Formosa, the most beautiful . Another feature was the alleged por tray al of the inner life of a questionable class of — m - feminine society the de i monde . Thus arose a “ ” m n te pest in a teapot betwee the press , which de n un ce d m o the play as i moral , and the management L of Drury ane . This , of course , helped to swell m . C the profits hatterton , the anager , and Bouci c ault are said to have cleared more than twelve thousand pounds between them . S hakespeare poor bard l— had been playing in the same theatre “ m ” to empty benches . For osa retrieved the fallen fortunes of Drury Lane ?

1 was ouc c u o f c ou s e wh o c s mu e It B i a lt, r , raftily ti lat d cks o f th e e s s k o u e e ou th e atta pr , n wing f ll w ll that th y w ld ” e xc it e th e publi c curi os ity to s ee s o immo ral a play . In “ ” a l ette r to th e Tim es h e originate d th e o ft- quot ed di ne «tareer at Eton aboutitault 1 1 7

It is worth noting , by the way , that Hen ry Irving again emerged into prominence by his i a o f C m tense acting the dastardly villain , o p ton “ Ker r . For mos a m Katherine Rogers was , the o st ” beautiful . When the play was first given in N e w ’ N iblo s S 186 York at , eptember , 9 , Ada Harland Tom Ed en C made a captivating , and harles R . Tom B urr u h Thorne was the o g s . “ L S e a ost at , which opened the season at the 2 186 m Adelphi , October , 9 , was another lurid elo drama , the joint work of Boucicault and Henry J .

Byron . Two more adaptations from the French Paul ” “ L Ri n l l . o d r O e afarge , with W g in the title , and A ’ ” S h Dark Night s Work , derived from cribe , wit — Rose Lecl er cq as the heroine comprised the bill at ’ M M P 18 0. the rincess s Theatre , onday , arch 7, 7 “ L The Rapparee ; or, The Treaty of imerick was a romantic Irish drama with a vague sort of S 2 historical background , produced on eptember , L 1 870. S heil Barry made his first ondon appear D r octo . ance in a comedy part , the , in this play m m On Dece ber 5 of the sa e year , at the Holborn “ Theatre , Jezabel ; or , The Dead Reckoning , “ MM M M founded on Le P endu by . ichel asson and Anicet Bourgeois , fell far short of expectation . Elfi e C m ; or , The herry Tree Inn , a do estic drama with a mysterious murder episode , received L a trial production at the Alexandria , iverpool , a o s m S kes e e s e s u y k ph ri , ha p ar p ll r in , and B ron ban ” ’ e u Th e e e a e e o e a e o s S u , r ptcy . l tt r pp ar d v r Ch tt rt n ignat r ! u but w as re ally written by B ouci c a lt . 1 1 8 ni ne d areer at Eton QBouritauIt

M Ma 1 1 8 1 onday , y , 7 , and was acted at the Gaiety L m Theatre , ondon , the following Nove ber . Wil Ri nold liam g , a sound and natural actor who had ’ r Ol es Bouci cault s originated in several of plays , hi r r u J o e C . enacted p, a blind sailor Twenty years n afterward he was stricke with real blindness . “ ” “ Kerry (also called Night and Morning l ever de r ideau was an adaptation of the charming , “ ” La P Joie Fait eur , and first saw the footlights at L 2 1 8 1 K rr G . e the aiety , ondon , November 9 , 7 y, the old Irish majordomo , so inimitably enacted by the author , again proved Boucicault to be a master i n c har ct r i z the art of lifelike portraiture . His a e a tion was everywhere pronounced a gem without a

flaw , perfectly conceived and executed with con i K . n er r summate mastery It was the part of y, I a may add , that Boucicault made his last stage p r n p ea a ce .

1 20 age O areer ofHDit maboutirautt young lady who had a leading part and who asked “ : M him to write her a song , he responded y dear , L ongfellow is your man . e Herv , then little known , composed the music , 1 m and Riv ere superintended the choruses , a ong S S S which was pring , pring , Beautiful pring , written for boys ’ voices and sung by choristers f with splendid e fect . m An army of men , wo en and children took part .

There were dancers , comedians , pantomimists , m A azonian warriors and coryphees galore , to gether with a huge fantastic aquarium of pseudo — oysters , crabs , cockles , seals , periwinkles , sea lions , - - fi sh - fi s h sea horses , sharks , alligators , sword , devil — — and lobsters scarlet boiled lobsters at that ! at the bottom of the ocean (possibly it was the Red

S ea ). The action transpired in every conceivable

- realm, from mid air to the bowels of the earth . M The principal parts were filled by Joseph aas , the L Mr P Mr al s . s . tenor , Brough , Howard aul , Bil n n r e mi er ns us li gto and Annie S inclair . The p e da e e M H was lle . enriette Dor , a graceful exponent of the classic school of ballet . But the most conspicuous figure on the over crowded stage was a stately damozel of remarkable M beauty , iss Helen Barry , who made her début in P r i nces s F r ti nbr s this piece as the o a . Gasps of ecstatic “ Ahs ! ” filled the big theatre when she swept down to the footlights , leading the Ama zonian march . Boucicault has been generally censured for mak {we ca reer atEDi on 289 1111111111 1 2 1

’ m ing ducks and drakes of his patron s oney , as well as for his abrupt and mysterious r e tr e at to America immediately following the first per m n m fo r a ce . But it ust not be overlooked that he had worked hard , early and late , for the success of o m the venture , and had expended an en r ou s amount of futile labor upon details . A nervous 3 breakdown was the inevitable consequence . a bil and Bijou ” was successfully revived at the Al 1 8 2 hambra in 8 and had a long run .

Again taking up his abode in New York , Bouci “ ” cault at once set to work turn ing La Tentation “ of Octave Feuillet into English and called it Le d ” m Astray . Ad irably acted by artists like Charles S E tin e R . Thorne , tuart Robson and Rose y g , it filled the coffers of the Union S quare Theatre m (December 5 , Boucicault clai ed a crea ’ tor s percentage for his work and was paid it . In “ ” 1 8 Le d L June , 74, Astray was acted in ondon

G C . at the aiety with harles R Thorne and Robson , l who were imported to play their original r O e s . It is said that Boucicault mailed a cheque for fifty M euill et L pounds to . F just before the ondon pro duction , not because he was legally bound to share m m royalties with the French an , but si ply as a trib “ ”

M . ute to . Feuillet for inspiring him “ M G ” ora ; or , The olden Fetters , acted at Wal ’ Ma 1 8 lack s , New York , y , 73 , did not have even the merit of providing the actors with effe ctive occupation , a quality seldom lacking in Bouci ’ c ault s plays . “ ’ ’ D owd Daddy O , first seen at Booth s Theatre , 1 2 2 age QI areer atEton flhm iwult

M 1 18 arch 7, 73 , had for its basis a French domes “ o f Le s C du tic drama great heart interest , rochets Pére M MM rm n . Co o e. artin , by and Grang The “ same work had provided the story of The Por ’ ” n S am s on B ur r ter s K ot , with which Robson as p a used to electrify his udiences . Boucicault, in n transferring the scene to Irela d , gave the play new atmosphere , and his own performance of the old Galway fisherman was the most moving and ff on a ecting thing he ever did the stage . It was simple pathos , but none the less poignant . Daddy ’ ” O Dowd was afterward acted in Dublin and Lon and n n don , while there was but one opinio concer ’ Boucic ault s n — ing acti g , the best he had ever n i n — n n show any play , the drama ever gai ed vogue . “ ’ M i n imi was first acted at Wallack s July, “ n L 1 873 . It was a free adaptatio of a Vie de ” MM n Mur e r Boheme by . He ri g and Theodore t Barriere . Boucicaul himself had the heroic part Maur i ce D ur os el and of , Katherine Rogers that of

Mimi .

’ The season at Booth s Theatre opened on Au “ ” 10 1 8 new L gust , 74, with a play , Belle amar , foun ded on incidents i n the American Civil War of — M ll h 186 1 6 . n c Cu ou 5 Joh g , Katherine Rogers and 1 Frederick Warde sustained the leading roles . There was a fine effect at the rise of the curtain : the singing of the sentinel on a summer n ight on ” P L con the banks of the otomac . Belle amar

1 h Hi s firs t app earance in t e Unite d S tates .

CHAPTER XI V

Fi r s t pr od uction of Th e S h a ugh r a un An app r ecia ‘ ti on by George Willi a m Cur tis Th e bl a ckg ua r ds i n ’ — B oucica ult s I r i s h pl ay s A s chool of I r i s h a ctor s comes i n to exis tence Th e S h a ugh r a un i n London — A modes t l etter to D i s r a eli — R ow wi th Ch a tter ton — ’ a t D r ury La ne Fa ta l acciden t to B oucica ult s eldes t

HE treasury of Wallack ’ s Theatre was in a depleted state when Boucicault walked in “ ” with the manuscript of The S haugh raun and turned the ebb of disaster into the full flood of P 1 prosperity . roduced on November 4 , the n play changed the luck of the theatre in one ight , ’ and Wallack s coffers ove r flowe d for months after

1 tai n Mol neux E a . M . C p y H . J ONTAGU e t F olli tt P R ob r f o J . B . OLK . F th r D lan E a e o JOHN GILB RT. i n h l Cor r y K c e a EDWARD ARNOTT . H ar ve D u E E y fi HARRY B CK T. th h u h aun C onn e S a g r D ION BOUCICAULT. n t ne R E S er g ea J o s M . L ONARD. d n n MR EP fi a g a . JOS HS . i ll E M R e . . y HOLLAND. ulli v n E E S a C . . DWIN . l MR P E o . D y e CK . ’ Ar te O N eal E E E J FFR YS L WIS . lai F lli ott ADA YA C r e fo D s . ’ el MME PO N I S I Mrs . O K ly . . f E E h oy a ION BURK . i t Madi an MRS E S . B r dge g . FTON N anc Mal one M E y ISS BLAISD LL. dine st arter at Eton abomitault 1 3 5

wards . The actual receipts for Thanksgiving Day matinée alone were the high e st figure s registered in a New York box - offi ce up to that date .

o Once again Boucicault struck the nati nal note , and his transplanted countrymen found a n e w thrill of enthusiasm in welcoming C onn th e S hau hr aun s f g , the life of every fair , the oul o every funeral , and the first fiddle at all the wed ” dings and patterns in the parish . The play was ’ the product of Bouci cault s long apprenticeship to the stage . It was wrought with a full knowledge and ripe experience of all the tricks of technique , and with the perfect craftsmanship of an expert “ ” playwright . Critics called it a mosaic of things pieced together from here , there and everywhere .

S o . s , indeed , it was But it had a freshness , a pon i tan e t . y , an inspiration all its own It breathed out free animal spirits , Hibernicism of thought and feeling ; and its Lever- like scenes had a vigorou s n and vital ationality . It was a remarkable achieve ment for a man who had been so many years be fore the public , during which time he had poured i n out a constant stream of plays , good , bad and “ 1 1—1 8 ! L different . 84 74 From ondon Assur ” ” ance to The S h augh raun ! What years of hardy endeavor lay between those two dates ! What an expenditure of brain and energy ! fi ft - fi ve Yet at the age of y or thereabout , the playwright burst with all the effulgence of youth n upo the public, and Boucicault went back to eigh ’ l teen when he stepped on the stage as Conn O Ke ly . 1 2 6 «t he st arter of8131011 96 11111111111: M ade up in his ragged red coat, with his kit slung across his broad back , with his curly brown hair and ruddy cheeks , he looked the roguish boy to the life . His voice had the cheery ring of youth , his smile had lost none of its brightness , his art none

‘ n of its cunning . Whe he spoke of his faithful “ ” Tatth e r s companion , , a dog never seen but much m talked of in the play, the ani al seemed a tangible reality . To one who had preserved the graces of a youthful style of acting through so long service behind the footlights and so many vicissitudes Of Conn th e S hau hr aun fortune , g seemed to give a n in ew lease of life . And this spite of the fact that the physical exigencies of the part were by no means slight . After his first entrance and he had spiritedly de “ ” i n n scribed the glories of the hunt full cry , whe ’ “ he borrowed S qui r e Fol ey s horse and the baste ch aracthe r t ‘ ran away with his , Boucicaul was per i n force obliged to j ump and out of cabin windows , to scale prison walls that revolved i n full view of the audience apparently without human agency (would that all Irish prisons were constructed on this plan to climb over abbey ruins and execute “ “ ” a back fall down a precipitous run ; after being “ ” “ ” stretched out and waked as a genuine corpse , to come to life for a hand - to - hand encounter with ruffi an s a pair of ; and finally, from the inside of a — barrel , shoot through the bung hole at the arch vil n C or r Ki n chela lai y , and afterward place the bar Mo a rel over the colleen y , thereby concealing her

1 2 8 tithe cttareer of EDion abomirault

for the part of C onn . The question reminded him that he had been so busy with other people that he ‘ m had forgotten to provide for hi self . They mounted into the wardrobe of the theatre . “ Have you got an old red hunting- coat ? Where is your Tony Lump ki n dress ? S urely you have a ” Goldfinch coat ? “ But, sir , they will not fit . m That is just what I want . Tear the ar s to —s make them shorter ; slit up the back o . What ’ have you there ? Tony Lump ki n s hunting- cap - r ! black velvet the ve y thing Tear the lining out . ” I see a splendid pair of old boots yonder . “ ” Those are not a pair , sir . ” S o much the better . And thus in half an hour the costume of C onn ! was patched together . What an escape Much likelier was it that Boucicault went early to the wardrobe room after a careful study of a L ’ “ ” volume of ever s Jack Hinton , containing the “ ” inimitable illustrations by P hiz . One has only to 1 “ ” look at the pictures of Tipp er ary J 0e by Phiz

1 Tipp er ar y J oe i s pe rhap s th e m os t memo rabl e c har “ ” ’ ac e k e e s s o uc o to th e t r in Jac Hinton . L v r la t intr d ti n nove l t e ll s us that Tipper ar y J oe was a r e al p e r s onage : “ Th os e who r ememb e r th e old c oaching days be tw e en Du K ke ec th e cu ous u e c blin and il nny will r all ri fig r , lad s c e u - c o ck e e c a wh o us e in a arl t h nting at and bla v lv t p , d , ‘ ’ e e e o th e Ro O ak to eme e om b tw n Carl w and yal , rg fr s ome e es e th e o e o o f m e o r fi ld b id r ad , and aft r a tr t a il s o es e th e o s e s c u th e ck o f th e c o c b id h r , rawl p at ba a h o e th e oo c o ec h e c e h i s e om and v r r f , ll ting what all d r nt fr th e as s e e s e um e u e e e but th e p ng r ; a v ry h bl trib t , g n rally, occ s o for oo e o f e s n ot m s e an a i n a g d d al j ting, di ini h d if

1 30 «t he st arter of1131011 QBnurirautt

m A most sy pathetic appreciation of the play , as ’ “ ’ it was acted at Wallack s , appeared in Harper s M ” 1 8 . agazine for July , 75 It came from the pen G C of eorge William urtis , than whom we have never had a more delightful dramatic essayist since C L i n extens o : harles amb . I quote “ There has been no play since ‘ Rip Van Winkle ’ which has excited so much interest as this , and no character which is a more distinct figure in the h u hr un an mind than the S a g a . He is Irish good — for nothing , a young vagabond who is as idle as — Rip Van Wi nkl e and who loves the bottle not to ’ — Rip s excess and who by his nimble wit and laughing, careless courage serves to good purpose m a pair of ve ry a iable lovers . There are knaves and wretches in the play , and ladies and lovers , and

' soldiers , and a priest and old crones . There is some kind of a story , as there is in an opera , but ’ you don t remember very well what it is . It is only hau hr un a background for the S g a to sparkle on . S ome grave critic remarked that as a play it had faults ; it violated canons and laws , and wanted unity , and did many things which it seems plays ought not to do . There are two plots , or threads , or catastrophes , and the mind , it appears , is dis tracted , and the whole thing could have been much

h e h e A B ut t e cu c o s e c e . S o tlanti c . rtain f ll in ld il n o e c m e o e s e wr t in an anti li ax with xplanat ry lin , lit rally hamme ring into th e h e ad s o f th e audi ence th e s ignifi cance H ! Th o f th e u s o s . e es o e cu e eu o g n h t y , pr t rtain th r p n e s ce e u o e e us e . V e as D o d nd d p n d af ning appla rily, i n ms e was o to s a m k i s e ke car hi lf w nt y, play a ing a trad li p ente ring . «t he starter of EDi ou abomitault 1 3 1

! ! better . Ah had the painter only taken more pains Mr . C e n But , on the other hand , ritic , ther is o t a m dull word or a dragging scene in it . It ov e s from i s e beginning to end , and pure pictur and ro mance

. e o e all the way There are , inde d , th s dre adful moral difficulties which we have been call e d upo n ‘ ’ e i s to consider in Rip Van Winkle . Her a lazy

- - good for nothing , who has no trade or profession , m hi or even e ployment , who has been in j ail for s o e tricks more than once , who carries a b ttl in his pocket , and poaches and fishes at his will , and he m carries with him our admiration and sy pathy , and puts our mind into any mood but that of sev e rity and reproof . He is simple and generous and sin f e i n cere , and brave and faithful and a fectionat , h u hr un S a a . deed , but he is a mere g , after all “ P erhaps the only plea that can be urged in the defence is that the play leaves us more kindly and as k gentle . But if you return to the charge and whether this might not have been done had th e hero been a respectable and virtuous young man , u keeping reg lar hours and reputable society , avoid i n g strong liquors and vagabondage , and devoted s to an honest trade or a learned profes ion , the Easy Chair can only ask in return whether H aml e t ms might not have been a greengrocer . The char of ‘ ’ ‘ ’ The S h augh raun are those of Rip Van Winkle they are its humanizing character and influence . Here is the spectacle of knavery brought to naught , of faithful love rewarded , and all by means of simplicity , generosity , good nature , and courage . Things are very perplexing if that is 1 3 2 a ge O areer ofEDion fihuurirautt m m immoral . It is , in fact , a poe , a ro ance . The little drama is wrought , indeed , with all the con summate skill of the most experienced and accom li s h ed - p of play writers . The resources of the stage f machinery , surprises, whatever belongs to e fect - and are all brought most adroitly into play , the spectator is compelled to admire the result of tact and experience in the construction of a drama . But it all deepens the romantic impression . The scene is Ireland , the story is one of love , the chief actor is an Irishman seen by the imagination ; and it is one of the felicitous touches of the skill with which the work is done that from time to time , when the spectator is most intent and his imagination is all m aglow , there is a faint breath fro the orchestra , a waft of wild , pathetic Irish melody which fills n and the mi d with vague sadness sympathy , and the scene with a n ameless pensive charm . This is the stroke of true humor—the mingled smi le and tear . “ But as you sit and watch and listen , you become more and more aware that the keynote of the and whole play is very familiar , even what the Easy Chair has already said may suggest the e s s enti al resemblance , which gradually becomes fixed ff um and absolute . Under a wholly di erent form , der circumstances entirely changed , in another time n and cou try , and with a myriad divergences , the ‘ ’ ‘ ’ h u h r aun a . S g is our old friend , Rip Van Winkle It is recognized as readers of Browning recognize ‘ C ’ In a S panish loister in the dialect poetry . The motive of the two dramas is the same—the win

1 34 ti me Qtareer ofEDi tmQBourirauIt

’ Conn s success with the Britishers was unequiv ocal : he kindled the same popular enthusiasm as in New York, and the play yielded almost as rich L ’ a harvest at Drury ane as at Wallack s . The cast , however . was inferior to the New York cast , with S the single exception of heil Barry , who , because of natural qualifications , excelled Harry Becke t in

r Ole H r D u the of a vey fi . This character of the traitorous police spy had its prototype in real life a despicable cur who wen t among the poor people “ o ff in Ireland , passing himself as a Fenian head ” centre ; then , after learning their secrets , swear i ng i n formation against them and pocketing the “ — ” blood money . When one section of the coun him try grew too hot to hold , he would betake himself to another district and there renew oper ation s as a government informer . Wherever he went , he contrived to gain the confidence of the peasantry by pretended loyalty to the Fenian move ment . Woefully did he betray that confidence .

Often he perjured himself , and his false oaths sent innocent men to the gallows or across the sea to

Th e u o of Th e ings for an all e ge d infringement . a th r ” “ ” S kibbeeah (Gaeli c for hangman ) coolly p ut in th e s e e s o e oo s h e unique pl e a that both play w r t l n g d , and s ubm itte d to th e c ourt a l ong li s t o f s cene s and e pi s o d es “ ” un purp o rting to be all antec e dent s o f Th e S h augh ra . ’ S ou s e e c e s e k r G . . B ut th e court did not ta e M . L t t d f n ri e o o f ouc c u us bani s hm ous ly and d ec id d in fav r B i a lt, th g ” all ap oc ryphal S h augh r auns fr om th e fi e ld . ‘ dine ca reer of8131011 l Bouri rault 1 3 5 M . penal servitude ost galling of all , this pesti lence in human form was a born and bred Irish man . “ H ar ve D u In y fi , Boucicault reproduced the m venomous creature with unflinching realis , and

Harry Becket , the original representative o f the ’ part at Wallack s , was effective enough to e xcite the execrations of the Irish in the gallery . But the H ar vey D uff of S heil Barry was really nothing

. e r less than a work of genius Irish himself , his p c e tion s p were keener , his understanding of the ’ character finer than Becket s . What the audience saw was the veritable Judas Iscariot of the Iri s h

s me race , a human being at once pitiable and loath o .

It was a stage creation recognizably true . All that saved it from becoming absolutely repulsive was a touch of the old ineradicable humor inherent in the

Celt . ’ The blackguards in Bouci cault s Irish plays are really very subtly diversified and contrasted . M Mr C r r i an Mi chael Fe ene D ann ann . o y, y , g , ’ “ ” ” O Lear H ar ve D u y in The Amadan , y fl, and the rest of the rapscallions are individual in the highe s t degree . To the graphic interpretation of these m parts came a small ar y of Irish actors , so strongly ’ sympathetic with B ouci cault s creations that they m M shared in his success . Do inick urray , Fal

S . . S coner , heil Barry , W A callan (not to be con i . S founded with W J . canlan , the beloved sing ng “

. C comedian ), W . B ahill , Jack Reynolds , Joseph 1 3 6 age «tareer ofEDi on abomirault

Ma uinne s s A . Wilkes , Dan g , Frank Breen , and Gus Reynolds are the names that come freshest to m emory in this connection . Conn While disporting himself as every night , Boucicault found time to indite numberless glow ing eulogiums about himself and his play , which appeared in the advertising columns of the London m journals . The modern press agent was then u known . Had that very important and influential factor in the theatre of to—day existed in Bouci ’ cault s time , he would most assuredly have learned t a trick or two . Boucicaul was not content with “ ” booming himself in the press . He found it nec Mr essary to address no less a personage than . n P M Disraeli , the rime inister , and , in his own “ ” n S h au h r aun ame , as the author of The g , demand the release of all Irish political prisoners then lan gui s hing in English prisons . ’ Either Disraeli was unmoved by Bouci cault s plausible arguments , or perhaps he was powerless C t n to act on his own authority in the matter . er ai it is that no prisons flung open their doors ; no gracious reply came from the P rime Minister by way of apology . ’ ” n Di z z s Undau ted by y chilling disdain , Bouci m cault determined to derive so e glory , at least , from his patriotic protest . He succeeded in get ting his letter to Disraeli printed throughout Great P Britain and America . erhaps this was as much as he had ever hoped for . At any rate , it kept his

1 3 8 age «tareer ofEDion ahmrritauft

E ngland , with a full and noble reliance on the E loyalty of the nglish people , authorizing and in approving the representation of this play , thus viting daily a jury of two thousand citizens to hear and pronounce their feelings on a great political question . o In all countries , and at all times , since the p liti cal license of Aristophanes was reprobated by the Athenian tyrant to the present day , when the French censor watches with minute j ealousy every expression of their drama , the theatre has been acknowledged a sensitive test of public m n opinion . S o e person may hold the expressio of public sympathy in a theatre to be a matter of little and weight but a little weight has turned a scale , a feather thrown upon the surface of the sea may se r ve to indicate its tide or current . It was surely not the cunning of the dramatist nor the great merit of the actors that lifted the whole audience to their feet , as cheer after cheer shook the old walls of the National Theatre when t the fugitive convic escaped from his prison . S urely there is no attempt throughout the play to deceive the spectator as to the n ature of the sym pathy they extend ; they are plainly invited to sympathize with one who is endeavoring to elude ff the penalty of a great o ence . Why do they watch ? his, progress with interest and when an announce ment is made that Her Maj esty ’ s pardon has been granted to all the political prisoners , why are these words greeted with hearty applause ? May we E be answer , It is because the nglish people have a ge d awn:of33131011 aboutitault 1 3 9

ff gun to forgive the o ence , and heartily d e sire to ? S o k forget it I believed when I wrote this wor , with the deliberate intention to ask that questi o n in plain language , and I have done so . The que s tion has been put nightly one hundred times to m P two thousand people of all classes , fro the rince and P rincess of Wales to the humbl e st mechanic in the city , and there has been no dissentient voice it— ! upon no , not one I have delayed calling your attention to this matter until the last moment , when I withdraw the play forever from the London

- stage . I am no politician , sir , but a working man in that guild of literature whereof you are the m most distinguished living me ber . If I v e nture out of my mental depth in approaching the subj ect , hold out generously your hand to one who loves his country and its people , and feels that affection th e to be his only eloquence . All the leaders of Fenian outbreak are at large ; a few obscure me n the still linger in chains , and these are , I believe , only British citizens now in prison for a political ff o ence . I am not capable of judging what benefit ff the spectacle of these su erers may be to society , but I can see the detriment occasioned when pun i s hment exceeding the measure of retribution makes Justice appear capricious , and tends to turn

m . the cri inal into a martyr I have seen , and I m s know , that toward these twelve or fourteen i er able men are directed the sympathies of — of English hearts in American breasts Engli s h m hearts that sincerely respect their other country , and would love her dearly if she would let them . ’ 1 46 d ue cl arece atEton 25 611119 11111 One crowning act of humanity would be worth a dozen master - strokes of policy ; and the great treaty to be established with the United S tates is n either the Canadian fisheries nor the border- line — on the Pacific Ocean it is the hearty cohesion of E the nglish and the American people . Those who say the time is not come for the exercise of clem not ency , forget that mercy is a calculation , but a — noble impulse that no man keeps a fallen foe under his heel but a coward who dares not let him I n up . reply to such obj ection I would answer , if the time has not come for the prudent exercise of M ’ m Her aj esty s prerogative , let your noble i pa — tience push forward the hands of the clock its strike will be heard in millions of grateful hearts , not and your own , sir , will feel the worse either here or hereafter . t Your very obedien servant , D I O N BOUC I CAULT .

E E R L E TH ATR ROYAL , D URY AN ,

1 18 6 . January , 7

For some intimate details about The S haugh ” raun i n London I am indebted to the late John “ C i n oleman , who , his readable memoirs , Actors ” P r e and laywrights I Have Known , succinctly

an n . . C ports i terview with F B hatterton , manager L of Drury ane at this time . ‘ There was a capital house the first night , and on the second (S aturday) we went up to three hundred and sixty pounds . “ During our rehearsals the lady who was to play

1 4 2 dine d areer atEton QBnud tauit

‘ ’ ‘ ou Yes , replied the other ; and how well y look ’ ofi it !

For the brief space of a few weeks I enjoyed the supreme felicity of being the manager of the ‘ three most successful theatres in London . The ’ S hau h r aun r L g at Dru y ane with Boucicault , and ‘ ’ P ’ f Rip Van Winkle at the rincess s with Je ferson ,

filled these theatres nightly . The money literally poured in , but Boucicault had his usual facility for making things pleasant . “ At the beginning of the last week he said to my ‘ : S acting manager aturday is my last night , and I should like a little demonstration—merely such a demonstration as an artist has a right to expect on such an occasion . I therefore request that the pit , gallery and upper circle may not be overcrowded . Issue fifty tickets less than the usual number i n each part of the house , and debit me with the ’ deficit . m Of course , my man immediately com unicated with me on the subj ect . I smelled a rat , and having ascertained that the greater portion of the boxes ’ Bouci c ault s and stalls had been taken by friends , I reserved the remainder for my own .

c u e h e H e e and afte r a r ow with B ouc i a lt l ft t c a s t . th n “ ’ ” ou out hi s own P ee 0 D a th e ceum br ght play , p y , at Ly e co e i s o e c e e r e Th e atr . Fal n r ft n r dit d with having p “ c e d e d B ouc i cault as the o riginat o r o f Iri s h romanti c “ i u e s e e o Th e e m T s o . o e dra a . hi s an nd rv d h n r C ll n ” Bawn had b een running for ov e r two h undre d night s in “ ’ ” London wh en P eep 0 Day was prod uc ed for th e fir s t

me on o em e 186 1 . ti N v b r 7, «t he Gl aretr of8131011 aboutirault 143

In point of fact , I anticipated a scene , a se ditious e m Speech , and an organized d onstration G m t against the overn ent , to enable Dion o make m m s e o his exit to A erica a id t a blaze of fir w rks . m Being forewarned , I resolved to be forear ed , and th e took my measures accordingly . When curtain e rose the house was crowded , the audienc fervid

. s and demonstrative At the end of the fir t act , there was a double call , and a laurel wreath with ’ B ouci c ault s green ribbons was cast at feet . “ At the end of the second act he was called fo r m o s again and again , and pelted with Sha r ck . At ’ nine o clock I arrived . I had barely got inside the m Th theatre when an inspector of police ca e up . e e man was pale and livid , and could scarc ly gasp out his awful intelligence . There had been an accident on the Great

Northern Railway , near Huntingdon , in which ’ B ouc i cault s poor Willie , eldest son , had been m killed . The news knocked the breath out of y body . ‘ ’ m ‘ Good God ! I exclai ed . How is the father to know it ? ’ ‘ ’ ’ i n s e c Don t trouble about that , sir , said the p ‘ ’ ’

11 . tor . I go and tell him And the man was actually bolting around to the stage door to blurt out the fatal news there and then , had I not seized : and muzzled him . One thing was quite certain the tidings must be kept from Dion and his wife S o m till they got home . , giving i perative orders m that no one was to be ad itted behind the scenes , I e made my way on to the stage , where , the v ry 1 44 tithe sttareer ofHDion QBourirauIt

moment I entered , I encountered Boucicault face to face . “ He accosted me somewhat defiantly with : ‘ ’ ’ S O ve you turned up at last . ‘ ’ ’ ve Yes , I come to do honor to the occasion , I replied . “

I had a bad time of it for the next hour , for I had to keep up a smiling face and try to talk upon f indi ferent subj ects , thinking all the while of how the news was to be broken . “ ’ Willie had been the apple of his father s eye . If there was one human being that Dion Bouci c ault i n loved the world besides himself , it was that poor boy . “ At last, with the end of the play and the cus tomar y calls and recalls , came a roar from Bouci ’ ‘ ’ cault s partizans : Boucicault ! S peech ! S peech ! “ This was responded to by a counter- roar from my myrmidons of ‘ No ! No ! Chatterton

I remained in the prompt entrance , prepared for all emergencies . At last the uproar in front m n e cul i ated in a tumult , during which it s emed as if the house was coming down about our ears . “ - Boucicault , who had gone to his dressing room , n r e came dow , and , meeting my stage manager , marked in the most ingenuous manner : ‘ ! C Dear , dear , this is dreadful Where is hat terton ‘ ’ There , replied the stage manager , pointing to me ; whereupon Dion came up and i nquired ‘ ’ ’ Don t you thi nk I d better go on

1 46 fi ne aareer of81316 11 i buurirault

’ i l ’ . R Bouc cau t s family physician , Dr and brother William were both in front of the curtain . I went around and told them what had occurred as well as I could . We then arranged for William m Boucicault to get Dion ho e , and the doctor kindly undertook to be in waiting at Langham P lace to break the sad intelligence . “ on Ill news spreads apace , and I found , return M Mr s . ing to the stage , iss Foote and Edmund P helps crying bitterly , and waiting to descend with their condolences on the poor mother when she came out of her dressing- room ; but I bundled both the ladies out of the theatre , for which , of course , I was put down as an unsympathetic brute ! “ I had a cab waiting at the royal entrance in M M L r s . aiden ane , and when Boucicault came n n dow stairs I packed her into it , saying that Dio had gone home and wished to see her immediately.

Sh e . turned pale , and looked dubiously at me ‘ ’ Mr s . C There nothing wrong , hatterton n n - othi g about W Willie she inquired . “ ’ ‘ n t I had the heart to tell her , so I said , Noth ing particular ; only Dion has a frien d or two to ’

and . supper , he wants you at once ff With that she drove o . — Sh e would know the news soon enough too n ! P soo oor little woman , it was a sad thing for — n h e r sadder for her tha for any one . “ How futile and puerile seemed all our misera ble quarrels i n the presence of this calamity ! “ God knows how the father and mother passed n that night . I only know I ever closed my eyes till f i the Gareer atHDi on 286 1111111111 14 7

morning , for thinking of the poor lad wh o lay d e ad ” at Huntingdon .

’ Dion William (Willie ) Boucicault was Dion s

s 1 . eldest son , born at New Orlean in 85 5 The rail at E h way collision Huntingdon , ngland , in which e met 2 18 6 his death , occurred on January 9 , 7 , and he lies buried there . The father purcha s ed a large e plot of ground and inclosed it as a gard n . Desirous to make the town of Huntingdon its elf a ff monument to his son , Boucicault o ered to erect , in his name , any public building the corporation should consider most required . (Be it n oted that m an s Boucicault was then a of means , thank to the “ h u h r un continued prosperity of The S a g a . The people of the town were convened to decide the m matter , and they asked that the gram ar school should be rebuilt . Boucicault raised a noble pile of m - buildings on the arket place of Huntingdon , which was finished and inaugurated on the 10th ’ Ma 1 8 of y , 77, the anniversary of his boy s birth day . Whereupon some Irish journals discovered that

Oliver C romwell , having been born in Huntingdon , was probably educated in the grammar school of s that town . They accused Boucicault of re toring a place in which the enemy of Ireland was edu

- . cated . The accusation was somewhat far fetched O n the spot to which the body of his son was

first taken after the catastrophe , Boucicault erected m s a drinking fountain , composed of as es of red granite , forming a lofty pile of rocks , on which is

- a kneeling marble figure , life size , of a girl drink 1 48 d ye st arter of901011 aboutirautt

h - e . ing at a pool . S holds a sea shell to her lips The inscription on this monument is taken from “ ” “ his play The Trial of Effie Deans : Water is truth . It cleanseth a man and bringeth up his food m . C fro the earth It maketh of him a hristian , and is the only earthly thing that God hath permitted to rise up and inhabit the heavenly sky .

1 56 ti the d areer atEton flhowirault

wrote to a friend , and I have earned very large m M su s of money , but have reserved very little . y family have had it , and there are so many calls on ’ one s sympathy . Besides , I do hope that I shall die u without more than eno gh to bury me decently . It ’ seems to me much better to give one s property to ’ one s heirs while you are alive and can see the em m o ent . j y it produces Why heap it up , to be wrangled for after you are gone ? Post - mortem r f prudence rarely tu ns out rightly . S u ficient for ’ this life are the troubles thereof Ah , no . I don t want any one to wait for my death with greedy ff hopes of any benefits . S uch a position of a airs hardens the hearts of those about you and turns human beings into ghouls that feed upon the dead . ‘ I wish I deserved such an epitaph as this : He lived like a prince and died worth a shilling, owing no m man a penny , but leaving a record written in s iles m S o and good hu or . do not shed a tear over him ’ who never intentionally caused one to flow . ’ A fine , sunshiny philosophy this , as long as one s worldly possessions survive but on the coming of adversity the sunshine somehow fades , and the i n shadows , like spiders , creep and disconcert the philosopher . Boucicault reached the plenitude of his powers h n in The S h aug r au . The chronological record of his later work , from play to play , is not exactly enlivening . “ ’ Forbidden Fruit (Wallack s , one of the — first and best of the errant husband farces , owed — “ its origi n to two French pieces Le P rocés Vau d be dI areer of{Dion QBouritauIt 1 5 1

Le s m radieux and Do inos Roses . After a suc ce s s ful was run in New York , it produce d at the L 8 . M 1 80 r . Adelphi , ondon , July , G . . S 3 A ala , P who certainly knew his aris , found great fun in “ telling his readers in the Illustrated Londo n ” News how utterly unlike the life of o rdinary English mortals was this eccentric picture o f c o n m m P temporary anners , as transplanted fro aris to L c i n ondon . The ab e t p ar ticuli er in London in 1 880 m seemed a most a using anachronism . “ M ” m m L arriage , a comedy ade over fro e ’ ” ’ C P d I tali e was hapeau de aille (Wallack s , preceded by some trumpet - blowing on a v e ry large

. t scale Boucicault , it appeared , felt it his duty o m rehabilitate dra atic literature . His public word s “ ro were : Hitherto I have given you bunting . I p ” - pose now to furnish point lace . Whatever the material of the play may have been , its texture was m - not strong ; it was ore perishable than point lace . C ” ’ larissa Harlowe , founded on Richardson s ’ ch e - d ceuvr e C f , enlisted the services of harles and C ’ Rose oghlan (Wallack s , It aroused a languid sort of interest and then expired . Bouci c ault remarked in a note on the programme that he had been moved to dramatize the celebrated old novel by reason of the recent interest in the work M excited in P aris by the panegyrics of . Jules

Janin . New York did not respond . Mr n M 10 1 8 s . O onday , February , 79 , Bouci — c ault who played under her endeared name of — ’ Agn es Robertson came forward at Booth s The 1 5 2 age st arter of2131011 286 111119 1111

atre , where she appeared with her husband in their l “ ” r O es C n . old , in a revival of The olleen Baw Mr m . Willia Winter , in describing the event , “ ” “ ’ : Mr Bouci cault s said in the Tribune . desire — — seemed to be as doubtless it was that the even ing should belong to his wife ; that she should have his a glad triumph , and should enjoy it ; and that work should be to augment the pleasure and em ph as i z e the success by scattering at her feet the m ” Sha rocks and the clover of a chivalrous loyalty .

A week was devoted to revivals of his Irish plays , M S 1 r . ending on aturday , February 5 , when and Mr s . Boucicault played together for the last time Mr n r n s . o any stage . Boucicault soo afterward e turned to England ?

1 Th e la s t s tage appe aranc e o f Agne s Robe rts on in Ame c was th e o um T e e c o S e em ri a at C l bia h atr , Chi ag , pt “ be r 188 e m e c e M Ge , 7, in a play by Bartl y Ca pb ll all d y ral ” S h e s s ume th e c c e of Mar ar r oll n e . a d din a d hara t r y C , e r n A w h e s h s o ubrey as al s o in t ca t .

1 54 tithe d areer of2131011 abomieautt As this event was one of the most extraordinary ’ Bouci cault s and amazing in variegated career , it almost deserves a special chapter . The late George C larke , who was for me a mirror of things per

i s he d . , regaled me with the story Here it is precisely as he told it to me and as I immediately afterward jotted it down . “ ’ I was at the time a member of Bouci cault s ” “

m Mr . C e co pany, said larke but had not b en cast ‘ L X I for anything in ouis . On the night o f the first performance I happened to be back on the stage , talking to some of the boys , and as I passed ‘ ’ - by the star dressing room , I noticed that the door was half open and Boucicault s at before his glass m aking up . He caught sight of me and called me r v to come in . He was ne ous almost to prostration , and was slapping on the grease - paint profusely and indiscriminately . ‘ ’ ’ m - u I can t see to get this make p right , he said , turning full around upon me . If it had been any one but Dion Boucicault , I should have burst out S laughing . He looked more like a ioux or a Kick — ap oo in full war paint than the wily French mon have l e ft us o f th e s ubtl e and remor s e l es s monarch of th e e e ce u wh o e e th e ous c e s s fift nth nt ry, w ld d vari hi ftain hip o f G u o th e e c mo c s mu e S muel a l int Fr n h nar hy, ti lat d a P h e lp s and Charl es Ke an to diametri cally Oppos ite con i Th e e r anci s ue ce h a e e h ow c ep t on s . lat F q S ar y s xplain d th e e s oke L oui s e pray r p n by , nding with “ Q ue v otre vol onte s oit faite — D eu c em e ct m e e us s i l nt la i nn a i , m k ight be s p o en in s eve ral di ffe r ent ways . t e Garret ofHDion nouritauit 1 5 5 m hi . arch , and I really felt sorry for He was in him genuine distress , so I volunteered to help . He

. S not only assented , but sat docile as a child natch o ff ing up a towel , I wiped the layers of grease paint he had daubed on . Then I proceeded to give

- u - u him a quick make p . It was a hurry p job , but certainly a hundred per cent . better than he could have executed in his unstrung condition . By degrees his extreme nervousness seemed to subside a bit . Wishing him well , I went around to the front of the house to see the performance . It was weird beyond words . At first the audience sat in m m m du b a aze ent ; then came titters and giggles , and finally roars . Never did monarch receive less ’ B uci c ult s grave and reverent treatment . o a brogue m im ca e out thick and strong . If he had been B r i an B or u Loui s XI personating instead of , he would have been funny enough , but a French king with a Dublin brogue was too excruciating an anachronism for the audience . To make matters worse , three of the principal parts were also played m — m M by Irish en John Brougha , Dominick urray

C . C and W . B . ahill They all spoke asimir ’ ‘ ’ Delavigne s blank verse wid that lovely acc int that L f one hears on the banks of the i fey , but never by P - - any chance in lessis les Tours . As the tragedy o r — , more properly speaking, the tragic farce pro r e s s e d g , John Brougham , who loved a good joke better than anything else in the world , began to exaggerate the unctuousness of his own fine , natu 1 56 @0e Gam e atEton QBourirauIt

C 1 E ral brogue . Next John layton , an nglishman - in - and the son law of Boucicault , who was playing N e mour s , felt in duty bound to fall in line with the m others , and he too assu ed a broad brogue . The rest of the company , either out of deviltry or catch m G G ing the infection , beca e aelic instead of allic , and before the play was half over the French trag edy had degenerated into an orgy of Hibernian ’ dialects . The audience certainly had their money s worth . Heartier laughter never resounded in a P theatre . eople laughed till the tears ran down ” their cheeks .

Always intolerant of ridicule , Boucicault did not enjoy being an obj ect of derision . It is scarcely necessary to add that his Louis XI survived only ” a few representations . Rescued was again put m on , and it was in this play that John Brougha 2 1 8 made his last stage appearance (October 5 , 79 ) S m obli o etime in the eighties , Boucicault was g ing enough to offer to give a lecture to English L actors then in ondon , on the correct pronuncia ff tion of their mother tongue . The o er was , I suppose , thought too valuable to be neglected , and it was arranged that the lecture should be delivered m L fro the stage of the yceum Theatre , Henry Irving graciously offering the loan of the house for the occasion . Mr A report of the proceedings is furnished by .

1 o o alth or m E J hn Clayt n (C p ) arri e d ve B ouc i cault . Mr D o Calth or e s on i s th e u o o f s e e i n p , th ir , a th r v ral s prightly nov e l s and a mos t re adabl e b ook on th e evolu tion o f dre s s in England .

1 5 8 ca nd areer of21316 11 QBourirauIt

h ri s t e n h ri s hi n calling it C y in place of C c . ’ D ye p e r s ave the diffunc e ‘ ! ’ ‘ A . and We do , we do cried the audience y , “ ” arments ye talk about soots of gy , when every ” m body knows ye shud say shoots , ye ust give the ” — ’ full valye to the letth e r u there s no double 0 M in a shoot of clothes . oreover , ye talk of the “ ” mimber s cuns table s of the polis force as , but ’ “ ” ’ “ s — it 0 there no u in the first syllable s an , ‘ ‘ renounced and it shud be p to rhyme with gone , “ ” ’ n ve but not with gun . The I heard an actor betthe r H amle t who shud know say, in the part of , “ ” Wur ds wur ds wur ds , , , instead of giving that fine “ letter 0 its full value . How much finer it sounds “ ” renounce ! to p it as I do Wards , wards , wards “ But when I say that I ve heard the ward pull “ ” ’ renounc ed not 11 p to rhyme with dull , as ye all an admit it Shud be , but actually as if it was within ” ’ -o ll ace of being spelt p double l , I think ye ’ agree with me that it s about time that actors learned something of the rudimen ts of the art of ’ ll u i n e yc t o . I do not pretend that these are the exact i n Mr stances given by . Boucicault of the appalling E n n incorrectness of nglish pronu ciatio , but I know ‘ ’ and that he began with the word war , that the impression produced upon my mind by the dis course was precisely as I have recorded it . Dion also dilated on the fine carriage and grace of the older school of actors , as contrasted with the awkward and slipshod gait of some of the younger generation . d ye Garter 01201011 fihwritault 1 59

S i r At the conclusion of the lecture , Henry Irving stepped from the lower stage box upon the m stage and paid Boucicault a gracious compli ent . He said that his early tuition under Boucicault had been of inestimable help to him and that to Bouci cault he owed his first rise from the provinces to L ondon . CHAPTER XVII

“ B oucica ult ba r n - s tor ms th r ough Amer i ca The Am ” a da n a n ima i na ti ve cr ea ti on — A wonder ul r e r o , g f p — ’ d ucti on of a s ea -ca ve J r vi ng s :d es i r e to pl ay R ober t E mmet a nd wh a t r us tr a ted hi nt — H e i ves th e , f g ma n us cr ipt to B oucica ult Fi r s t perfor ma nce of Th e ” Jilt with D ot a nd [Vi na B oucica ul t i n th e cas t ’ — B oucica ul t s fount of perpetua l y outh H e goes to — Aus tr a li a a nd ma r r i es jl/i s s Thor ndy ke P ublic — ’ i ndigna ti on a t this a ct Agnes R ober ts on s di vor ce Yea r s of f utile cyfor t to a chi eve s ucces s l Yi s la s t — pl ay s a nd thei r fa il ur e S ta r ts a sch ool of a cti ng i n

- O UCI CAULT n ever felt himself out moded . Younger men with fresher ideas and n ervous n enthusiasm pressed forward , but he ever said , “ ” uni ri u M Cedo j o b s . isfortune dogged him as he n n n we t ; one after another , his co tributio s to the 1 public maw were spurned ; he toured the country

with a company playing these pieces , but the game

was hardly worth the candle , and he returned to

New York as a base of operations . on He found , as time went , that he had outlived

1 Mr m u . e s r o os e e c e e on the L s i Charl F h an , wh r nt d ath tani a was c cu e os s to th e m c u e s e an in al labl l dra ati niv r , w as for a ye ar th e tre a s ur e r fo r B ouc i c ault on on e o f hi s “ ” u Mr D t m o o s . u mem e o f h e c . o o c c u t o r ad t r B i a lt , a b r ’ wa M m s r . o s e e s e ec o pany, Fr h an g n ral tag dir t r in o o L nd n .

“ 1 6 2 tithe «I areer ofPoint Zhuutitault tr a ed m y the a adan , and he himself enacted the ’ Mr O Lear . malignant y, a character which , said m “ Willia Winter , he drew with the revolting col ” ors of absolute truth . “ The Amadan ” was one of the most imaginative ’ i ault s n m s ue of Bouc c creatio s , but too so bre to cee d with the general public . One scene , showing “ - uffi n - a wild sea cave , a p g hole , was weird beyond ’ Boucicault s words , and worthy of best inventive C genius . There are , on the coast of lare and in m the Arran Islands in the extre e west of Ireland , natural water - caves with tunnels formed from the roof upward to the outer surface of the rocks . These tunnels have been made by the p ounding o f on the waves alone , when the pressure the mouth of the cave was so tremendous that the water had to seek an outlet elsewhere . It has gradually bored its way upward clear through the rock . C onsequently , when a storm breaks out , the water floods the cave and proj ects powerful streams up through the roof of the tunnel and out from the surface of the rock , like a spouting geyser or an

- oil well . In times of storm the waves dash into the cave and sweep the roof with a thunderous roar like the boom of artillery . To try to depict upon the stage a natural won

e o c uff o me o s . W h i s us u s c e and a r bati b n ith al di rn nt , B ouc i c ault s aw in Maginl ey th e makings o f a fi n e c harac te r c o e e him fo r hi s c m . A e wo a t r , and ngag d o pany ft r t e s ouc c u M e e e D y ar with B i a lt , aginl y app ar d in avid B ela s ’ ” ‘ c o s Ma o s s om c o r un h play y Bl , whi h had a l ng at t e M s o S u e T e e H e adi n q ar h atr . s ub s equently s tarr ed with “ s ucce s s Ma o m in y Bl s s o . a ge d areer of8131011 aboutitault 1 6 3 der like a p uffi ng - hole would have been deemed impossible by anybody but Dion Boucicault . That which he undertook to perform he usually accom “ ” “ li s h ed uffi n - p . The scene of the p g hole in The Amadan was amazing in its illusion ; like a Rem m r brandt, it will live in the me o y of all who saw m the play . Its attraction for Boucicault see s to have lain in the fact that it was the most difficult stage task he could set himself . Another Irish drama with no less a personage than Robert Emmet for its hero was acted at Mc ’ C Vicker s Theatre , hicago , on Wednesday , No vembe r a 5 , This play had something of E history . arly in his career and shortly after his L m L tenancy of the yceu Theatre in ondon , Henry Irving was imbued with a desire to portray upon ’ - the stage Ireland s patriot martyr . The actual Em facial resemblance of Irving to met, his phy s ii ue q and bearing , all suggested the Irish patriot ;

1 Th e ca s t was as foll ow s :

Mi chael D w er D y ION BOUCICAULT. R ober t E mm e t EP JOS H HAWORTH . Ti ne Wol e y f NINA BOUCICAULT . And D evli n D O T y BOUCICAULT. L or d Ki lwar d en P S : J . . UTTON or or bur E R R y DWA D CLIFFO D . gi nl e g y GU S RE . Foll ower s E mmet YNOLDS Fi nn er t y { WILLIAM S TARK . J ohn P hil ot ur r an P . . p C L . HICKS Ma r S ir r EP o A. E j JOS H WILK S . a tai n laver h ous e D R E C p C ONALD OB RTSON. Fa th er D onn ell P E y JOHN AG . S ar ah ur r a n E E E C H L N L IGH . Ann D evli n E . M . E ARY BARK R . Lad Ka th er i ne Yar k GE E R y RTRUD BLANCHA D. 1 64 tithe Garter at EDi on QBourirault

Em while the tragic story of met , his romantic love S C M for arah urran , his union with ichael Dwyer , m that epic figure in Irish history , see ed rare ma

teri al . M for a fine and strong , play Frank arshall mm was co issioned to undertake the work , and was rewarded by payments amounting to some six hun dred pounds . But just as Irving, after announcing cons ummat his intention to present the play , was ing the details of the production , he received a gentle reminder from the British Government that Robert Emmet would be p ers ona non g r a ta just L L then in ondon . The troubled period of the and L eague and agrarian violence had set in , Ireland m was in a political tur oil , and an Irish play with E so patriotic a figure as mmet for its hero , and so r Emm potential an actor as I ving to incarnate et , “ M n might cause untold ructions oreover , Irvi g ran the risk of being credited with something more than a purely dramatic interest in such a character . S o G nm , in deference to the wish of the over ent , the project was abandoned ? ’ Frank Marshall s uncompleted manuscript r e mained on the shelf till , one day , the idea came to Irving that perhaps his old friend and manager m might ake some use of it . He turned it over to “ Boucicault , who rewrote it , reshaped it , bouci ” c aulted it , and produced it in Chicago . A more inopportune time for the trial of any play could not have been chosen . It was the night of Grover C ’ P leveland s first election to the residency , and the

1 ’ Vi d e m S oke s e of e r Bra t r lif H nry I ving .

1 6 6 d be «tareer of EDit mQBuurirauIt The most palpable hit in The Jilt was the old Mr Wel ter m s . Yorkshire woman , , ini itably acted

Mr M E . . by s . ary Barker Boucicault thought so highly of her performance that he afterward took her to London for the production of the piece

Mr s . n there . Although Barker was an America , the London critics pronounced her Yorkshire dia S i r P lect perfect , and Arthur Wing inero , who was M P r . not then knighted but plain inero , wanted her to originate a character in a comedy he had com Mr s . pl eted and was about to bring out . But Bar ker was loyal to Boucicault , with whom she had a ” “ t contract till death do us par , and she continued a member of his company till he ceased touring altogether ? “ The Jilt was obviously suggested by Hawley S ’ “ P ” mart s sporting novel , From ost to Finish ; ’ but the dramatist s work throughout is of far s u ’ perior quality to the novelist s . The old wit flashed “ ” out again in The Jilt , and though there was a great deal of sporting slang, it kept the interest alert to the curtain fall . From S an Francisco Boucicault took passage M for Australia with iss Thorndyke , and a mar r i a e m m S e g cere ony was perfor ed between them , p

1 M k u r s . Bar e r d pli cate d h e r hit in Th e Jilt by h e r ’ fi ne c c e o of o Durbe fi el s ke s hara t rizati n J an y d in Mr s . Fi ’ “ ’ o uc o o f Te f ill s s s s o th e D Urber v e s . Mr pr d ti n Hardy . s ke s s h e ou e e h Fi aid w ld n v r give t e play without Mr s . ke e k e . W e Mr e a k s . w s e Bar r , and n v r did h n Bar r ill d u omo e c o s o c o e 1 1 th e Ame c in an a t bil lli i n, O t b r, 9 3 , ri an s tage l o s t an actr es s wh o was rar e in h e r line of c haracte r o k w r . ti the d arter of8131011 QBourirauIt 1 6 7

1 88 S tember 9 , 5 , at ydney . At first the news was received with incredulity . Boucicault had been known as the husband of Agnes Robertson . They had acted together in eve ry part of the United S Mr Mr s . tates and Great Britain as . and Bouci c ault . They had been received in society as man and wife . After obtaining actual proof that the ceremony with Miss Thorndyke had been performed in n Australia , Agnes Robertso brought suits for di L vorce both in ondon and New York , in order to own establish her marriage to Boucicault , vindicate her reputation and the legitimacy of her children , and secure a just allowance as alimony for her and their support .

These suits for divorce he did not defend . If L Boucicault had ventured to testify in ondon , it was said that he would have been confronted with f L n his own a fidavit made in ondo , when he claimed certain property as the husband of Agnes Robert “ Col son , and also with a presentation copy of The ” leen Bawn , sent by him to Queen Victoria , with portraits of himself and wife inscribed in his own handwriting A divorce was granted to Agnes Robertson by the British court in the summer of 1 888 , though the formal announcement was not

m 1 1 88 . ade till January 5 , 9 The court also

o . awarded alim ny , etc , but the defendant escaped service . After the divorce , however , he went through a second marriage ceremony with Miss

Thorndyke in New York .

His last plays were failures , but he never seemed 1 6 8 ci ne d awn ofQDion abourirault

i n to lose hope . He was working sand , but he worked on just the same . “ ” Mac ool S Fin C , at the Hollis treet Theatre , “ 188 Boston February 3 , 7, was a revision of Belle L amar . Boucicault wrote in a new part for him — — self the title character an Irish emigrant boy who appears first as a fireman on board a Cunard steamer , working his way out to Boston ; is then recruited into the Union army ; and after peace is restored between the North and the S outh becomes m f a groom in the fa ily of his commanding o ficer . “ P hryne ; or , The Romance of a Young Wife n proved a disappointment at the Baldwi Theatre ,

S an S 1 1 88 . Francisco , eptember 3 , 7 “ ” Cus hla M achree , his last essay in Irish drama , was brought out in Boston at the Hollis S treet “ Man 2 0 1888 . Gu Theatre , February , This was y ” M M r i nering done over into Irish . eg e r il es was ’ “ ” m Mor na O Fail - transfor ed into the spae wife , D omi ni e S am s on D octor P oldoodi e D and p into , y Di nm n t And D l n o o a on . into y , and so The mellow green moon that rose over S cott ’ s beloved Ellan gowan was made to shed its light about Colonel M annering and the romantic Julia , rechristened “ ’ ” and transplanted to Dunluce s Castle in the m “ ” County Antri . The title Cus hla Machree sig ” n ifi e s pulse of my heart , but there was no pulse of life in the play . It was one long dribble of ’ uci dulcet brogue . Bo cault s hand must have lost

. f s rifi its cunning The e fect was opo c . For the in first time his career as a caterer to the public, he was downright tedious . The only animation dis

1 76 d ye aareer atEton QBuurirauIt

no very cordial relations , they had since buried ” the hatchet and agreed to forget and forgive . Mr P m r e . al er certainly harbored no feeling of s entment , for he straightway despatched a reply to i n extr emis f him Boucicault , o fering the director ” ship o f a school of acting which he proposed to organize in connection with the stock company at “ his Madison S quare Theatre Number two com ” m panies were then co ing into existence , and it was the manager ’ s scheme to recruit road com p an i e s for the presentation of his New York suc cesses from the most promising “ pupils ” in the “ ” ac school . As drowning men grasp at straws , cording to the proverb , so did Boucicault gladly

ff . n accept this o er With a touch of genuine dig ity , he announced in the columns of the press that he had decided to abandon provincial touring in the future , and seriously to devote the latest years of his life to the good cause of the Drama by teaching P the young histrionic idea how to shoot . athos and irony are strongly blended in the spectacle of this old man , beyond all question one of the great i n r e forces of his time the world of the theatre , turning penniless to New York to become a teacher m m of a bitious a ateurs at fifty dollars a week . Great epicure and bon—vivant ! He had drunk deep of the wine of success , and now only the dregs remained . Mighty monarch of the show world ! To what petty size had this giant shrunk !

He sought neither pity nor commiseration , and to see him there , bowed and broken , but insouciant dine Gareer of8131011 QBuurirault 1 71

as of old , pity was swallowed up in admiration .

The wonder was that he still had pluck to fight . His friends could only wish that he had governed his life better . And it was in no complaining spirit that he took up the drudgery of his last ungracious task . He went to the work with a kind of kingly abandon , “ ” like one who condescended . CHAPTER XVIII — Wh a t B oucica ul t ta ugh t his pupi ls B a nquet i n his — h onor a t th e H oyfma n H ous e H e di es vi r tua lly i n

— er i es a nd la s t r es tin - l a ce h a r nes s Funer a l s v c g p .

L AY ‘ W S put your foot down as if to say , This spot is was the advice Boucicault gave to the young men and women who sat under him at the Madison S quare Theatre S chool of Act ing . Then the old man would get up from his chair to suit the action to the word , and his pres m ence , neither great nor i posing , would fill the m “ stage as he easured its length . The rest of the world may be for whom wills , but where I stand is ” mine . n Then he would sit down agai in his chair , and n O ne every student knew he had see a fine sight . does not go through the world with the declama tory stride of a stage heroine , but Boucicault at least taught his pupils to put their heels down first instead of walking , as it were , from the toes back ward . “ m I have never aimed at i possibilities , he was “ wont to say . I do not seek to establish a dramatic M hothouse in our midst . y aim is to develop the natural gift by inspiration , so to speak and not to instill mechanical ideas of the great art .

Although Boucicault lagged superfluous , he was ff not su ered to remain neglected , forgotten , hang 1 72

1 74 aged areer ofQDi on QBourirauIt

Boucicault was intellectually alive up to the last . “ “ N m C Turn to Dion Boucicault , said y rinkle , r e in his feuilleton , and you find an alert mind , c e tive r p of every wave of thought , watching eve y m move ent of human progress , ready on the instant to talk interestingly on the Munich school of im r e s s ion i s ts fa p or the Howells school of realists , miliar with the ultramontane idea and conversant with Ibsen and the whole Russian propaganda , S ne w well up in the new ocialism and the ironclads , ‘ m ’ but reading The Te pest still , with the imagina tive glow of a boy , plus the insight of a philos ” oph e n Mr P He staged Captain S wift for . almer at M “ the adison S quare Theatre . He adapted P rete M i mm ” o Ta Fe e for Roland Reed . He wrote “ C ” 5 01 S The Tale of a oat for mith Russell , and the savage condemnation of this play by the New

York press is believed to have hastened his end .

It was , at any rate , a bitter blow to the sanguine ’ hopes he had built upon the play s success . At the time of his death he had under way a dramatiza ’ “L C ” tion of Bret Harte s uck of Roaring amp , and E had mapped out the scenario of a play for . H .

S othern .

He died on the afternoon of Thursday, S eptem 1 8 1 8 0 - 10 ber , 9 , in the apartment house No . 3 West i ft - fi f F y th S treet . A few weeks before he had had an attack of heart failure , followed by a fainting ’ . n spell But he soon rallied . The ma s vigor was m a azing ; there was in his hardy , sanguine tem fitbe Garter ofEDion 1156 119 9 11111 1 75 m p e r ament no room for gloo y forebodings . He r e concealed his condition from his friends , and l axed not at all the industrious habits that he had acquired in youth and carried into age . Four days before his decease , he had read a new play to a manager , so that he died virtually in harness . A sudden attack of pneumonia prostrated him ; weakness of the heart ’ s action militated against his slender chance of recove ry ; and when the crisis m m ca e he succu bed . He died fully conscious and without pain , attended to the last by his young

L . wife , ouise Thorndyke r M S e The funeral se vices were held on onday , p 2 2 C tember , at the hurch of the Transfiguration on — S f West Twenty ninth treet , af ectionately termed , Lit by members of the theatrical profession , The tle Church Around the Corn er The ritual of the G Episcopal Church was read by the Rev . Dr . eorge

H . Houghton . “ The New York Herald of S eptember 2 3 said : ’ B ouci cault s last drama was played yesterday for the first and last time . It was witnessed , like so an many of the dramas that have gone before it , by overcrowded and sympathetic house . All of the prominent actors in New York were present . In life they had been his interpreters , giving reality fi ments to the g of his magic brain , and it was ” seemly that they should come to do him reverence . His body was temporarily placed in a receiving vault at Woodlawn . He had expressed an aver sion to “ fashionable cemeteries and ostentatious 1 76 dine d arret atEton fibuurirault

in tombs , and his wish was to lie some sequestered M M spot . iss Thorndyke selected a plot in ount m Hope Ce etery , near New York , where , on De c embe r 1 18 0 9 , 9 , in her presence , his remains were interred .

1 78 age O areer of2131011 aboutirautt of antiquated tradition which gather as thickly in ’ u i s the manager s office as in the co l s s e . The prae tical spirit of the man made him a dominant power “ ” in front of the house and back on the stage . “ ” L i n In his first success , ondon Assurance , he tro duced the French fashion of one scene to each “

. act , and this scene a box set He reduced the m fre length of dramatic entertain ents , which had quently lasted from seven o ’ clock till past mid M i n f night . anagers were the habit of of ering three or four pieces nightly : he gave one impor m tant drama . He abolished the practice of ad it ’ ting the public for half price at nine o clock . But the most important of all innovations , and one which wholly changed theatrical conditions both in E f ngland and America , was e fected by him in P m 1 86 1 . revious to this year , each pro inent the “ ” atre had its own company ; the stock system prevailed ; and the great stars from London and

New York , when they visited a provincial theatre , “ ” were supported by the local stock . Boucicault contended that such stars would not prove magnets if they did not appear i n the new plays in which i n they had been successful the metropolis . It was f the play , he a firmed , and not the star , that drew the money . He pointed out that the author of such a play received as his royalty a mere pittance sometimes thirty shillings a night—while the star was paid more than thirty times that amount . Tak ing advantage of the success of “ The Colleen ” Bawn , he engaged a company of actors , among them John Drew (father of the present actor of d ine d areer atEbtun 2511111111111 1 79

Mr s M Mr . . rs . that name), Hudson Kirby , and f la as S . John loan , and others He of ered the p y s tar the , with this satellite company , to the provin i l c a managers . They demurred till one of them

consented to give the scheme a trial . The result

was an unqualified success . For several years he sent out specially organized companies with his

plays , thereby deriving immense revenues . Then followed the disintegration of local “ stock com ” panies , till at length few theatres maintained resi

dent companies , but depended solely on touring m organizations , which syste now prevails gener

ally . Actors nowadays are often heard an ath emati z ing the memo ry of Boucicault because he is p opu rl l a y accredited with originating the matinée . A ’ matinée means to an actor an extra afternoon s w ork . Boucicault was not guilty of the innovation . matin ee M The originated in Boston , assachusetts , “ ” where a P uritan blue- law of the S tate of Massa chus etts forbade a theatrical performance after “ ”

S . sunset on aturday The Hub managers , to get u their six performances a week , instit ted an after n n m oon performance o S aturday . Not a great any years have elapsed since that old Puritan law was

repealed . At rehearsals Boucicault was an exacting marti net ; his eve ry word of direction was obeyed with childlike docility , alike by tyros and veterans . Among actors he contrived to create a vast num : ber of enemies some in the natural way , by his n talent and success , which were the most unpardo 1 86 tithe d areer at21319 11 aboutitault able offenses to one large class of his fellow crea tures ; and others by divers and sundry peculiarities i n of temper and manner inherent his hot , hasty

Irish nature . But they one and all acknowledged him to be a masterful stage manager . They carried out his instructions with enthusiasm and admiration—the admiration which everything intelligent has for the higher intelligence ? Just two years before his ’ Ch ambe r s s death , Boucicault staged Haddon play , M m M S . . P Captain wift , for A al er at the adison

S quare Theatre . There were unutterable lessons in the mere sight of the veteran , lively as a cricket , M r sharp as a needle , directing aurice Bar ymore , Mr s . Holland , Agnes Booth , and the rest by the spell of his intellect . The result of this laborious d ii lling was that when the play was produced not a reproach could be heard as to the manner of the representation . ’ As an actor Bouci cault s talent was by no means limited to the interpretation of the Irish characters with which his name is popularly associated , and Tour he shone in volatile French parts , such as ’ “ billon in Tom Taylor s To P arents and Guardi ” “ H avr es ac ans ; , in his own little drama , Napo ’ ” o G le n s Old uard , written when he was a school

1 ’ was e e s to o e e e s W ck s It int r ting n t , at a r h ar al at alla , h ow c o s k e o G e M u m P ni s i o e M e . o a t r li J hn ilb rt, ntag and ob eye d impli c itly and with out a murmur th e d ogma s o f th e m s s ome mes i e s s im dra ati t, ti g v n har hly and alway e r i u l Mo p o s y . ntague was neve r all owe d a moti on o f th e s o f th e e e of the e e o s ou o e hand , f t, y br w , with t an rd r .

’ 1 8 2 «t he stl areer at 2131011 QBaurirault

S i r Mar the table , against which he was leaning ; cus had his hat on his head .

In the middle of one of his speeches , Boucicault ’ stopped in his lines , glanced at the noble blackleg s n hat , and then , significa tly putting his own on his

o . head , continued the conversati n This bit of ” business called forth applause from the gallery and appreciative smiles from the lower part of the house . “ Mr f That , said . Je ferson , is where Boucicault has an advantage over most other writers of plays .

He is an actor as well as an author . The literary man would never have thought of introducing that ” business with the hat .

Every actor of to- day carries a neat speech up his sleeve . At the slightest provocation , out bobs the smiling favorite in front of th e curtain to ex “ ” press thanks to his dear friends , the audience . S m ometimes the speech is formal , so etimes pleas antl m y familiar and confidential , so etimes austere , m sometimes genial and hu orous , but invariably is “ ” it in behalf of myself and my company . This delightful way of giving the audience a m personal and individual gli pse, as it were , of the actor ’ s real self is gratifying to no one more deeply than to the actor himself . With joyful affability does he bound beaming forth to respond to the vociferous calls for “ S peech ! S peech ! ” With radiant good nature—but with what modesty ! does he tell his admirers how truly their applause «t he d areer ofEbi an abomirault 1 83

m m has inspired hi self and his company . What at ter if the illusion is lost when B ar on Ch evr i al or C al e b P lummer so suddenly steps out of the picture ? P erhaps a few spectators — precious few — are disgruntled . They came to see acting , not to - au listen to speech making . The majority in the di en ce are delighted : they are getting more for their money than they had anticipated . The modern curtain speech had not gained gen ’ — eral vogue in Bouci cault s day not even in his “ later day ; but he was one of the first of the great “ stars thus to take his dear friends , the audience ,

- into his confidence . As a speech maker in front of — the curtain he was inimitable he kep t up th e illu i s i on . n Tears in his eyes , tears his voice , on the farewell night of a long engagement ! How many on audiences parted with him those last nights , assured and convinced in the softest and blandest tones that their kind applause meant more to him than the hand - clapping of any other audience in any other city ! How many audiences have thrilled with pleasure and cordial welcome on “ first n C onn the S hau hr aun ights , when g came back again to the “ sturdiest and best friends he ever ” ! S Conn r knew ure , could make eve y audience feel that it was the only audience he ever cared to play to . What spectator , in sooth , could doubt that genial , infectious smile and that voice with the harp in it ? m Yes , Boucicault was as consu mate an actor n before the curtai as he was behind it , and well 1 84 di ne (tareer ofEton E onrirautt indeed did he demonstrate this fact on first nights and at farewells . No audience , knowing that to it ’ was confided the tender keeping of Dion s heart, “ L — could fail to cry , ong life to him and to any audience (when he felt ' s o inclined) was that trust confided !

There was a sardonic streak in Boucicault that at times was strongly felt by all who knew him in im t l f t a e . y Joseph Je ferson once asked him how , m with his cynicis , he could write such beautiful lines and give expression to so many homely sen tim n e ts in his plays . Boucicault took this as a great compliment and laughed heartily “ ’ ” s r It the art of the thing , me boy , he answe ed ’ s with a chuckle . It the art L And in the aura Keene days , at a bohemian dinner where Boucicault presided , the conversation drifted to botany and the guests laughingly com “ pared each other to the various flowers . And am ? ” what sort of a flower I asked Boucicault . “ Mr s Quick as lightning , . John Wood replied , Oh , you , my dear Dion , are the deadly nightshade . A and chill fell upon the feast , an ominous silence was only dispelled when Boucicault ordered more champagne . On another occasion an actress of his company “ n said jokingly , When you get to Hades , Dio , five ’ r e P minutes after you dead , you and luto will be struggling for the center of the stage . n Boucicault did not relish the joke , and soo

1 8 6 ti the st arter ofEton E arnhardt

Mr L r M s . r s What about angt y and . Brown Pot ter as S hakespearian heroines “ Ros ali nd If Venus condescended to appear as , “ was his reply , and Hebe consented to perform ’ J uli e t S , hakespeare s spirit would be there to see ff and take delight in their e orts . The boys who originally played Cl eop atr a and Lady Macbe th doubtless squeaked through those parts in a gro ” e u t s q e manner . “ But did you find these ladies equal to the tasks they undertook ? “ I could not see for looking , answered Bouci ‘ M m cault . , airily ine eyes were ade the fools of ’ ” my other senses . And were worth all the rest .

Boucicault was the first to suggest the fi rep roo f ing of theatrical scenery , and he gave a public demonstration of how easily and cheaply scenery m can be ade fireproof . Just after the Brooklyn m n Theatre fire (Dece ber , when early three m hundred hu an beings lost their lives , the theatres M r e suffered in attendance for some weeks . any forms were inaugurated, but no law was passed concerning fireproof scenery . Boucicault, like all others interested in the restoration of confidence , proceeded to make public demonstration of the n fi r ep roofi g of scenery . “ 2 1 In the New York Herald of December , 18 6 : 7 , appeared the following Between one and two o ’ clock yesterday after dine st arter ofEton E ouri tault 1 8 7

’ n Mr . oon , at Wallack s Theatre , Boucicault , with a few explanatory remarks to quite a large audience interested in the matter , attempted to set fire to a scene saturated with a solution of tungstate of soda and primed with a solution of silicate of soda , sus m pended over the centre of the stage . A fla e equal to the force of one hundred and fifty of the ordi nary gas - j ets on the stage was directed on the suspended canvas and held there for about two m minutes . The canvas did not blaze or s oke . The portion s on which the gas flame had been directed broke , fell to the ground , and crumbled into fine m ashes on being touched . S everal experi ents of this kind were made on different parts of the c an vas , and always with the same result . A coil of rope was subsequently submitted to the test of fire . ff The flame seemed to have little or no e ect upon it . It did not discolor it to n early the same extent as n the canvas . All the managers prese t took a deep interest in the operation , and keenly watched every Mr . P phase of the experiment . Harry almer of ’ Mr M . P Booth s Theatre , as well as A . . almer of Mr M i S . cV cke r L the Union quare , and of the y ceum Theatre , were particularly well satisfied with all they had seen . They intend to apply it imme di atel y , not only on all the new scenery they may on be preparing , but all the scenes at present in use i n their respective theatres , as well as on the flies ” and wings and borders . ’ Bouci cault s timely action had an eminently 1 88 age Eareer ofEton abourirault

soothing effect on the popular nerves . It was taken for granted that so simple a remedy for such an obvious danger would be universally applied . The experiments were commented on all over the

United S tates , and confidence slowly returned . Boucicault himself was inundated with corre n n s p o d e ce on the subj ect , and for the benefit of theatrical managers throughout the country he “ ” subsequently wrote to the Herald, repeating briefly what he knew of the chemical agents that would serve the purpose . “ — There are three well known resisting agents to ” “

m . fla e , wrote Boucicault They are tungstate of am soda , phosphate of ammonia , and sulphate of monia . There are two agents used as dressing to the above ; these are silicate of soda and chloride of calcium . In naming these materials I use the n m M vulgar a es by which they are known . any persons having patent processes have applied for our assistance in getting their wares into notice . To f these there has been only one reply . An e fectual process is well known , and the obj ect , being one of public benefit , is opposed to any private enter ” prise . ’ If Bouci cault s precautionary advice had been followed from that day to this , theatre fires would have been of less frequent occurrence and great properties that have been swept away in an hour would have been saved by that vital dime ’ s worth of prevention which he recommended as a safe guard against the loss of money and the loss of life .

1 9 6 d be Earcet ofEton E onsirauit

’ No stone marks Dion Bouci cault s last resting

place , but his Irish plays are his most fitting monu m ent .

P rolific Boucicault ! what verse can scan The merits of this many- sided man ?

A stage upholsterer of old renown , m Is what an ene y would write him down . But let the enemy remember still ’ How much we owe to Dion s cunning quill . ’ What tho in many of his plays , perchance , There may be hints of foraging in France ! Let us be mindful of the genius shown

In those as well as others of his own .

There is a land the playwright has made sweet ,

And found a laurel in the bog and peat . Not yet have audiences joy out - worn ‘ ’ ‘ ’ Sh au h raun C n To see the g and the ollee Bawn , D az z l e e And retir d from the scene , C onn M les - na- l n While enter and y C oppa ee .

I I M L EE E W LL A . K S ,

Actor s and Actres s es o f Gre at Britain and th e

e S es as s e Co . N ew o k Unit d tat (C ll , Y r ,

1 9 4 tithe (tareer ofE ton QBoutitauIt Old Ireland and her faithful sons

Who love to wear the green .

O Wearing of the green ,

O Wearing of the green , M c y native land , I annot stand ,

For wearing of the green .

I care not for the Thistle , And I care not for the Rose ;

When bleak winds round us whistle ,

Neither down nor crimson shows . ’ s But like hope to him that friendless ,

When no joy around is seen , ’ ’ O er our graves with love that s endless

Blooms our own immortal green .

O Wearing of the green ,

O Wearing of the green , M y native land , I cannot stand ,

For wearing of the green .

’ P s O addy dear , and did you hear the news that going round ? The shamrock is forbid by law to grow on Irish ground ; P ’ ’ S t. 11 atrick s Day no more we keep , his colours ’ can t be seen , ’ For there s a bloody law again the wearing of the

green . Ebe st arter ofEton 289 1111111111 1 9 5

I met with Napper Tandy , and he took me by the

hand , ’ s And he said , How poor old Ireland , and how does she stand ? ’ Sh e s the most distressful country that ever yet

was seen , They are hanging men and women for the wearing

of the green .

O if the colour we must wear is England ’ s cruel

red , S ure Ireland ’ s sons will ne ’ er forget the blood that

they have shed . You may take the shamrock from your hat and

cast it on the sod , ’ t But will take root and flourish there , though ’ under foot t is trod . When law can stop the blades of grass from

growing as they grow , And when the leaves in summer- time their verdure

dare not show , Then I will change the colour that I wear in my

caubeen , ’ God ll But till that day , please , I stick to wearing

of the green . But if at last our colour should be torn from ’ Ireland s heart , Her sons with shame and sorrow from the dear old isle will part ; ’ I ve heard a whisper of a country that lies beyond

the sea , 1 9 6 tithe Eareer ofEton E onritault Where rich and poor stand equal in the light of freedom ’ s day E ’ O rin , must we leave you , driven by a tyrant s hand ? Must we ask a mother ’ s blessing from a strange and distant land ? Where the cruel cross of England shall nevermore

be seen , ’ God ll And where , please , we live and die still

wearing of the green .

M LL PAT A OY . At sixteen years of age I was my mother ’ s fair haired boy ; h e S kept a little huckster shop , her name it was M alloy . “ ’ ve P at I fourteen children , , says she , which ’ H e av n to me has sent ; ’ ’ But childer ain t like pigs , you know ; they can t ” pay the rent . ’ S h e r i n gave me ev y shilling there was the till , ’ ’ ki s s d d And me fifty times or more , as if she

never get her fill . ’ ! H e av n ! P at Oh bless you , says she , and ’ don t forget , my boy, r That Ould Ireland is your count y , and your name is P at Malloy

Oh ! England is a purty place : of goold there is no lack

1 9 8 Ebe Eareer of Efon E ouritault

E L LIMERICK I S B AUTIFU .

L m i erick is beautiful , As everybody knows ; S The river hannon , full of fish , Through that city flows ; But ’ t is not the river or the fish

That weighs upon my mind , Nor with the town of Limerick ’ I ve any fault to find .

Ochone , ochone .

The girl I love is beautiful , And s o ft~ eyed as the fawn ; S h e G lives in arryowen ,

And is called the Colleen Bawn . And proudly as that river flows

Through that famed city , As proudly and without a word

That colleen goes by me .

Ochone , ochone . If I was made the Emperor

Of Russia to command , Cae Or Julius sar , or the L L n n ord ieute ant of the la d , ’ d I give my plate and golden store , ’ d m I give up my ar y ,

The horse , the foot , the grenadiers

And the Royal Artillery .

Ochone , ochone . Ebe (Career ofEton E ond rault 1 9 9

’ d off I give the crown from my head , My people on their knees ; I ’ d give the fleet of sailing ships Upon the briny seas ;

A beggar I would go to bed , And happy rise at dawn If by my side for my sweet bride

I had found my Colleen Bawn .

Ochone , ochone .

P E M ’ A AS ANT WO AN S S ONG .

(1 864 )

“ ( A few days ag o I s tood on th e N or th Wall and wa tch ed th e emig r an ts embar ki ng for the Far Wes t as I h ave s tood on th e ua s o N ew Yor k , q y f A hil h i n to s e e them ar r i ve i n mer i ca . W e c ew g the cud of s wee t and bi tter fanci es over this s ad r evi ew and i c tur i n to m s el th e a te o each , p g y f f f r ou as i t as s ed a chor d i n the old har whi ch g p p , p , e ver I r is hman wears i n his br eas t twan ed i n a y , g mi nor key and I he ar d a young I r i s h wife i n th e ” backw ds O hi s i n i n thi tr ai n —D B oo of o g g s s . . . )

’ m I very happy where I am , Far across the say I ’ m very happy where I am m r i In North A e kay .

’ It s lonely in the night when P at n Is sleepi g by my side , 26 6 fi ne Eareer of Eton E outitault

I lie awake , and no one knows ’ e The big tears that I v cried . For a little voice still calls me back counth ri e To my far , far , And nobody can hear it spake

Oh ! nobody but me . There is a little spot of ground Behind the chapel wall ; ’ It s nothing but a tiny mound Without a stone at all ;

It rises like my heart just now , It makes a dawny hill ; ’ m It s from below the voice co es out .

I cannot kape it still .

! Oh little Voice , you call me back counth ri e To my far , far , And n obody can hear it spake

Oh ! nobody but me .

S E ’ S ELLE L M NTRY S ONG IN B A AR .

(1 874 )

Oh ! Why did I lave the County Clare To sail across the sea ? ! M M Oh Why did I lave you , ary eagher ,

Alone to pine for me , In far Kilkee ?

«t he Eareer ofEion E onsi rault 26 1

The sky is blue , the land is fair ,

And goold , they say , is plenty here ; But oh ! the blue of Mary ’ s eye S Is bluer than your outhern sky , And the goold I love is the goolden hair

Of the fairest girl in the County Clare .

H ’ L T E O NEI .

(1888 )

’ — (The p r oud r ace of the O N eils one of the old es t — i n Uls ter would accep t no h onor s fr om th e En li s h C our t but li ke Gr ani a Ui al e s tood g , , r l fie ce y at bay . ) A crowned king I cannot be N0 title less con tenteth me ; ’ ll n I keep the crow I won by steel , ’ n il For I am Owe Roe O N e .

To my own blood I will be true , To my own land allegiance yield ; Ay ! by the faith of Owen Roe ! Ay ! by the trusty sword I wield ! God I bend my head to alone , And humble homage to His throne

I bear alway . ’ n O N eil And whe defends his right , ’ That He 11 stand n ear and see the fight —I Is fair pray . 26 2 Ebe Eareer ofEton E onrirault

L M EE CUS H A ACHR .

M y home by the bog was a cabin so poor , Till I mended the thatch and I hung a fine dure ;

- But I worked like a thrush in a hawthorn tree , ushla- M Till I made a sweet nest for my C achree . m There is only just roo for my love and for me . ’ houlds ? S o it all I want in this world , d ye see I would not this minute ’ Give something that s in it ’ For all the king s riches on land or on sea !

Mr L . W . J . awrence has kindly furnished me with this record of

appearances of the E ouricaul tain E nbltn

— Mr 1 . . April Theatre Royal , Dublin . and Mr s . Boucicault opened in The Colleen

- Bawn for twenty four nights . This was ’ Dion s first appearance in his native city .

186 — 1 B e 4 Two visits to the Theatre Royal . ( ) “ ” M 2 ginning arch 8 in The Colleen Bawn .

E uotahl e (Extracts

No dramatist was happier i n writing dialogue — n in than Boucicault . All through his works eve his most hastily written pot- boilers—are to be found quotable passages admirable not only in ad vancing the sto ry of the play but delightful in “ themselves . He knows more about the grammar C “ of the stage , said harles Reade , than all the S i r rest of them put together . And Arthur “ - C Quiller ouch has said , I cannot recall one of his plays from which I could not make pleasing ex tracts . The Irish dramas especially are sprinkled with drolleries of expression , racy of the soil , and with delicate , fragrant passages which captivate by their wit or are irresistible for their pathos . Where can be found truer Irish humor than i n The Colleen Bawn ” ? Who but Boucicault could have given us the answer made by Myl es when ’ asked by Eily O Connor if he still loved her : ’ Did n t I leave the world to follow ye ? And ’ since then there s been neither night nor day in my

. G P life I lay down on lenna oint above , where I see this cottage , and I live on the sight of it . Oh , E ily , if tears were poison to the grass , there would ’ ” n t be a green blade on Glenna Hill this day .

Again in the same play , the whimsical philos ophy with which Myles joins the hand of the col 204 Ebe Eareer ofEton E ourirault 26 5 leen he worships with that of his favored rival : “ When you cease to love her may dying become m you , and when you do die leave your oney to the ’ 11 poor and your widdy to me , and we both forgive ” you . Here are other nuggets from this same rich mine :

HARD RE E S S CR GAN . I would not wed my cousin if she did not love me— not if she carried the whole County Kerry in her pocket and the barony of Kenmare in the crown of her hat !

MR E m n a . S . CR GAN . I hate this He was my hus ’ band s agent , or what the people here call a — middleman vulgarly polite and impudently

obsequious . HARDRE G n—a l S S . enus squiree ha f sir and a

whole scoundrel . — E n a . ANN E C HUT . I k ow potato on a silver plate ’ I ll leave you to peel him .

M ? wur r a DANNY ANN . Beautiful , is it Och , , — wur r a d e eli s h ! The looking glass was n ever P at made that could do her justice ; and if S t. rick wanted a wife where would he find an ’ angel that ud compare with the Colleen Bawn ? As I row her on the lake the little fishes come up to look at her ; and the wind from Heaven lifts up her hair to see what the divil brings her down

here at all , at all . 2 6 6 tithe Garter ofEi on E arnh ar dt

m CORRI GAN . You may as well answer e kindly — civility costs nothing . ’ M E ? C YL S . Ow , now , don t it ivility to a lawyer

- - manes six and eightpence about . ’ I s a ? CORR GAN . What th t on your shoulder ’ M s ? YLES . What that to you ’ RI m COR GAN . I a magistrate and can oblige you

to answer . ’ ’ M E S boul s ter belon in YL S . Well it a g to my ’ mother s feather bed . ’

uff d . CORRI GAN . S t with whisky ’ ! s MYLES . Bedad How would I know what it ’ ’ s tuff d wid ? I m not an upholsterer !

E TO M S i n s . FATH R . ( g ) Tobacco is an Injun ” wathe ri n weed . And every weed wants a g to make it come up ; but tobacco being an Injun

weed that is accustomed to a hot climate , wather — ’ is i nti rely too cold for its war rum nature it s S e e whisky and wather it wants . now , my chil ’ ’ s — dren , there a moral in everything e en in a ’ s s e r rit jug of punch . There the p , which is the ’ s sowl and strength of the man . That the ’ s whisky . Then there the sugar , which is the smile of woman ; without that life is without ’ s taste or sweetness . Then there the lemon , which is love ; a squeeze now and again does a

boy no harm ; but not too much . And the hot wather— which is adversity—as little as possible — if ye pl az e that makes the good things better

still .

26 8 ti the Ent rer ofEton E ondrault

ver tu we have , indeed , a French word like it , , — yes ladies of ver tu might signify articles of M . G rarity old again is the idian bath of youth , possessing also a magnetic attraction for eve ry E cardinal virtue , while all the plagues of gypt E are shut up in one nglish word , and that is

poverty , the exhibition of which , like that of the ’ Gorgon s head , turns the hearts of your dearest

friends to stone .

’ L I E s ? ADY AL C . Where Kate E E COLON L ROCK T . I picqueted her in the hall with the baggage — brought her up as a soldier ’ s wife — ’ p e r fe ctin her facings as a light company and can manoeuvre a battalion with any adjutant in L the service . ook at her walk , thirty inches

regulation pace , head up , left foot forward ’ perfection ! That s the way to put a girl into ! the hands of a husband , sir

LI E L TTL TON . Ah , beware , ady Alice , the friend of a young and lovely woman should have sixty years at least and hold orders for his qualifi ca

tion . L D I E A Y AL C . Young man , take my advice . A woman never likes her lover to be more careful

of her character than she is herself , or too provi ’ i n m dent his heart s econo y . M ROCK ET . y Opinion is that a submarine battery is attached to the keel of the vessel and exploded

by concussion . Eye Entrer of Eton E outitaul t 209

L P M ORD O P I ON . Bless me ! had Guy Fawkes lived in these times what would become of the House of Peers

E E M J SS RURAL . ay I entreat your sympathy in favor of a subscription I am raising for a poor

creature , a widow with eight children . L P M ADY O P I ON . Widows never appear to have

less .

E ? ? RO BUCK . But is it practicable Will he L E I TTL TON . Anything is practicable to a lawyer

for five hundred pounds .

L — — — I E . h a ADY AL C And your your , ha l your protestations to me ? ’ L E E ! — I . s TTL TON gad , that true I forgot oh , ’ — n ff M don t mistake me , whe I o er iss Rocket

my hand , allow me at the same time to express my wild adoration of your ladyship in the ah ’ s stract ; it a fearful mania of mine .

’ LI E TTL TON . I don t think there was a fool in the house whom she did not flirt with through her opera - glass ! Every one noticed i t—she swept

over the stalls , smiling at every eager eye that — was fixed on her damme , she appears to be intimate with the whole subscription — and then m — — the o nibus boxes oh , that was awful why , every man in ’ em went round into her box

They went by in twos , relieving each other every 2 16 di ne Eareer ofEton E ouriraul t

i S h e five m nutes like sentries before Whitehall . made herself the focus for every lorgnette in

the pit .

“ Fr om Love i n a Maz e M C E B UC KTH O RN E . OLON L y lord , you are wel u k r n e — m m come to B c tho Chase y ho e . ’ M R ? t ! LORD I N EVE . Is that a house S o is I — positively took it for a r ooke ry l no offence to your ancestors — no fault of theirs that they did

not live in better days than the good old times .

“ I n London As s ur an ce thes e wor ldly apo thegms :

ffi COOL . A valet is as di cult a post to fill properly as that of a Prime Minister !

S I R R C R . C HARCOU T OU TLY Tell me , ool , at what time was my son in bed last night ? - i C . S r . OOL Half past nine , Harcourt I R - ! ! S H . Half past nine Beautiful What an ! original idea Reposing in cherub slumbers , while all around him teems with drinking and debauche ry ! P rimitive sweetness of nature ! - - ! no pilot coated , bear skinned brawling

‘ ’ MAx m n HARKAWAY . I a plai man and always ’ ? speak my mind . What s in a face or figure Does a Grecian nose entail a good temper ? Does a waspish waist indicate a good heart ? Or do

2 1 2 «I boEareer ofEton E outitault

her taste to the best possible advantage ; and so ,

an r e voi r .

E DAZZL . When the world puts on its nightcap and extinguishes the sun — then comes the bottle ! ’ Oh mighty wine ! don t ask me to apostrophize . Wine and love are the only two indescribable things in n ature ; but I prefer the wine because its consequences are not entailed and are more

easily got rid of . MAX ? . How so E L DAZZL . ove ends in matrimony , wine in soda

water .

MAX ? . Do you know him m Z E . . DAZ L Oh , inti ately Distantly related to his — family ; same arms on our escutcheon empty

purse falling through a hole in a pocket ; motto , ” “ — Let Requiescat in pace which means , virtue ” be its own reward .

MAX . One point I wish to have settled . Who is Mr ? . Dazzle

S I R . S . H A relative of the pankers , he told me MA X . Oh , no , a near connection of yours . I R m S H . Never saw him before I ca e down here M ? C r . in all my life . harles , who is Dazzle

C . YOUNG OURTLY Dazzle , Dazzle , will you excuse an impertinent question — but who the deuce are you ? Z E DA ZL . Certainly . I have not the remotest idea . ALL . ! How , sir ” dine starter ofEfon E outitault 2 1 3

Z E . S DAZ L imple question as you may think it , it

would puzzle half the world to answer . One — thing I can vouch Nature made me a ge ntle — man that is , I live on the best that can be pro

cured for credit . I never spend my own mo ney ’ m when I can oblige a friend . I always thick ’ m m on the winning horse . I an epide ic on the

trade of tailor . For further particulars inquire

of any sitting magistrate .

“ For mos a con tai ns a g ood d eal of d r os s a n d s ome

old . B ob S aund ers a Cockne d o thi e me e t g , y g f, i n S am B aker ex- u ili s t: g , p g

’ m L BO B . n S a Blest if it ai t Boker , the ightning ! Arm Hitter , the unbought and undefeated Don ’ t yer recollect me ? ’ E s S ! BOK R . It Bob aunders Why , I thought you was doing a government job fifteen years ago that would last you for the remainder of your n r l m ate a existence . How did you ever co e back from Australia ? ’

B . B O . I got my papers . The country don t suit me ’ ’ ’ ’ s ! It s too ot. It only fit for a workin man ’ ’ London is the place for h in ter le ck ! There s — ’ k Wi n s . allus some little game a goin there . ) ? BOK ER . What are you doing

BO B . . Oh , something or other most of the time ’ ’ m h active . I fond of a life , yer see ’ E ve BOK R . And so at last ye come down to the dogs ! 2 14 d ue Eareer of Efon E ourirault

BO B . Vell , yer see , I allays vas wery fond of dogs , ’ and then they is a h inte roduction to the best

society . If you are caught on the premises you “ can allays say : Does yer want to buy a leetle dorg

Fr om The P oor of N ew Yor k

L ! IVI NGSTON E . The poor Whom do you call the poor ? Do you know them ? Do you see them ? They are more frequently found under a black man coat than under a red shirt . The poor is the clerk with a family forced to maintain a decent suit of clothes paid for out of the hunger of his children ; the poor man is the artist who is obliged to pledge the tools of his trade to buy m edicine for his sick wife ; the lawyer who , m m craving for e ploy ent , buttons up his thin paletot to hide his shirtless breast— these are the m m ost iserable of the poor of New York .

’

TO M E . n ! BADG R Jerusha , ai t it cold I could play m the banjo on my stomach , while all y shivering

anatomy would supply the bones .

O ld P e te i n The O c tor oon exh or ti n the s laves , , g of Ter r e bonne to look thei r bes t a t the auc ti on s al e of th e plantati on :

’ ’ Cum — yer now stand round , cause I se got to talk to you darkies — keep dem children quiet ’ o m d n t ake no noise , de missus up dar hear us .

S . Go P . OLON on , ete

2 1 6 ca nEareer ofEton E onrirault

— ’ CONN . I did barrin one thimbleful a day just to take the cruelty out of the wather

FATH ER D . One thimbleful . I allowed you that m concession . No ore . ’ ’

d . C . Go . ONN bless ye , ye did An I kep my word E ! FATH R D . Kept your word How dare you say ’ that ? Did n t I find you ten days after stretched ’ ’ out as dh run k as a fiddler at Tim O Malley s wake ?

C . ! ONN Ye did , bad luck to me E m ? FATH R D . And you took only one thi bleful ’ Di il dh ro — n . v t CONN a p more see this . I could refuse one dh r in k out of respect to the corpse ! long life to it But as luck would have it, there

was only one thimble in the place , and that was ’ ’ ’ m n t a tailor s thi ble , an they could get it full . E r r o a . g , but they got me full first

’ At Conn s Wa ke :

M ’ R . K. S O You are kindly welcome . The dark

cloud is over the house , but ? CLAI RE . Did they bring him home insensible ’ MR K S . O . No , miss , they brought him home on a ’ shutter , an there he lies now wid his dog Tat ’ r him c r thur the s beside . The a won t let a hand

go near the body .

r es s i nal m ur n r t h k B I DDY (p of o o e a t e wa e ). Good ’ ’ dh ro m luck t ye , give me a p o so ething to put s r ri — the p e t in me . None was like him none m ! could co pare , and he was brave he was open tithe Garter ofEion E outitault 2 1 7 handed ! He had the heart of a lion and the legs

of a fox . C onn takes th e u e m ti es i t u ie tl ( j g, p q y, an d un obs er ve d b all r e laces i t on , y , p t l s oo . )

B I DDY . His voice was softer than the cuckoo of

an evening , and sweeter than the blackbird after ’ 11 a summer shower . Weep , ye colleens , ye

never hear the voice of Conn again . ’ s tt c s CONN ( o o vo e ). It a mighty pleasant thing

to die like this , once in a way , and hear all the ’ good things that are said about ye afther you r e

dead and gone , when they can do you no good . ’ K B IDDY . His name will be the pride of the O ellys m forever ore . as i de CONN ( ). I was a big blackguard when I

was alive . ki n u h r u I Ta e . B DDY . ( g p j g ) Oh , he was sweet — ’ and s th rong Who the divil s been at my jug of punch ?

“ Fr om Ar r ah - na—P o cr ue b

E M I MAC O L th tr i t S ee C U e a o . B A SH ( p ) , the morn ing is beginning to tip the heights of Mull acor ; m we ust part . In a few hours I shall be on the

sea , bound for a foreign land ; perhaps never again shall I hear your voices or see my native m ! ! hills . Oh , y own land my own land Bless every blade of grass upon your green cheeks ! the clouds that hang over ye are the sighs of

your exiled children , and your face is always 2 1 8 tithe Garret ofEton E ontitautt

Ei r n me lis h hl . e e s awn wet with their tears , l th ! ! o Fare ye well And you , dear Abbey of

S t. Kevin , around which the bones of my fore fathers are laid !

O n the wa r om the cha el the we ddi n ar t y f p , g p y ’ s top a t th e hous e of Colon el B ag enai O Gr a dy :

’ S O GRADY . Thank ye , haun , and may this day ,

that will change the name of your bride , never - - P change the heart of Arrah na ogue . P W E — - P ! FANNY O R . Arrah na ogue that means — — — Arrah o i the Kiss ’ ’ ? O GRADY . Don t you know why she is called so e ! T ll her , Arrah m . S . ARRAH ure I do be asha ed , sir ? ’ S . s HAUN Ah , what for It proud I am of the ’ n t me s el f kiss you gave , though it was that got

the profit of it . ? FANNY . Indeed ; and who was the favored one M l m l th S . acCou co da a HAUN Beamish , miss ; her

- - I . mane her foster brother , that is It was ’

. G four years ago He was lyin in Wicklow aol , the day before he was to be hung wid the rest ’ r i s in of us , in regard of the . m m FANNY . I re e ber , he escaped from prison the

day before his execution . Th rue S . HAUN for ye , miss . The boys had ’ n t s ch ame planned the manes of it , but could him f any way to give the o fice , because no one ’ mas th e r was let in to see the , barrin they were

abronological iLtfit of

’ QBouticauIt B Q tamatic works

’ E O LD GUARD B e o 18 8 NAPOL ON S r ntf rd, 3 ’ A E E O F TH E D EV D E B o 18 8 L G ND IL S YK right n , 3 m 18 8 UP . C e e HARD h lt nha , 3 S E u 18 JACK H PPARD H ll, 39 i LODGI N c s TO LET o o 18 L nd n , 39 L A E o o 18 1 ONDON SSURANC L nd n , 4 E E o o 18 2 IRISH H IR SS L nd n , 4 A E P X o o 1 8 2 LOV R BY RO Y L nd n , 4 A M 1 E . o o 8 2 LMA AT R L nd n , 4 C E O F E E o o 18 2 URIOSITI S LIT RATUR L nd n, 4 TH E B E o o 1 8 2 ASTIL L nd n , 4 A o o 18 WOM N L nd n, 43 ’ S S TH E W o o 18 HARP ORD L nd n, 43 V T E E o o 18 IC OR AND HORT NS L nd n , 43 E S o o 18 LOV IN A ACK L nd n , 43 o o 18 LOLAH L nd n , 43 E UP Lo o 1 8 US D nd n , 44 O LD E E o o 1 8 H ADS AND YOUNG H ARTS L nd n , 44 D O N CZES AR DE BAz AN o o 1 8 L nd n , 44 A M FO R K o o 18 ATCH A ING L nd n , 44 M E S O N o o 18 OTH R AND L nd n, 44 8 Fox G E . o o 1 AND OOS L nd n , 44 L G o o 1 8 AYING A HOST L nd n , 44 A E E o o 1 8 CONFID NC L nd n, 45 TH E O LD S O o o 1 8 CH OL L nd n , 45 O UT AT E o o 18 FOUND H OM L nd n , 45 TH E W E C E o o 18 AT R UR L nd n, 45 fi ne flat ter ofEDi on fibmuirault 2 2 1

S E E E E o o 18 6 HAK SP AR IN LOV L nd n , 4 L E M E o o 18 OV AND ON Y L nd n , 47 TH E W C E o o 18 8 ILLOW OPS L nd n , 4 TH E K O F A o o 18 8 NIGHT RVA L nd n , 4 S E o o 18 ALAMANDRIN L nd n , 49 G o o 18 0 IRALDA L nd n , 5 TH E E o o 18 0 INVISIBL H USBAND L nd n , 5 A R E o o 1 8 0 ADICAL CUR L nd n, 5 TH E B E V ow o o 18 1 ROK N L nd n , 5 ’ L A E DE o o 1 8 1 BBAY CASTRO L nd n , 5 L M E VE . o o 1 8 1 O IN A AZ L nd n , 5 S EX TH E F o o 18 1 TUS FI TH L nd n , 5 TH E G D E M E o o 18 1 AR OBIL L nd n , 5 TH E EE O F S E o o 1 8 1 Q U N PAD S L nd n , 5 P E o o 18 1 AULIN L nd n , 5 TH E ‘ C O RS I C AN B O E o o 18 2 R TH RS L nd n , 5 TH E V E o o 18 2 AMPIR L nd n , 5 P 18 2 TH E D . o o RIMA ONNA L nd n , 5 GE E E E o o 18 N VI V L nd n , 53 TH E A E N ew o k 18 YOUNG CTR SS Y r , 53 TH E Fox D O N X E N ew o k 1 8 H UNT ; OR, Q UI OT II Y r , 53 A B E B os o 1 8 NDY LAK t n , 54 M G E o o 1 8 FAUST AND AR AR T L nd n , 54 8 XI . o o 1 LOUIS L nd n , 54 P E E TH E o o 18 I RR FOUNDLING L nd n , 54 E E E o o 18 UG NI L nd n , 55 E P E o o 18 JAN T RID L nd n , 55 N EW N ew k 18 APOLLO IN YORK Yor , 55 E E E N ew e s 1 8 TH C HAM L ON Orl an , 55

TH S A . B os o 18 E FAIRY T R t n , 55 H L E A E N ew e s 1 8 T E IF OF AN CTR SS Orl an , 55 P P e 18 6 TH E HANTOM hilad lphia, 5 L N ew e s 1 8 6 AZAE O rl an , 5 N ew e s 1 8 6 O rl an , 5 P e 1 8 6 NOTHING IN IT hilad lphia, 5 2 2 2 dine flatter ofEDi un QBnutitauIt

BLUEB ELLE N ew Yo k 18 6 r , 5 TH E C AT C E W B os o 1 8 6 HANG D INTO A OMAN t n , 5 ’ GE E D A E o o 18 ORG RVILL L nd n , 57 TH E P O F N EW N ew o k 18 OOR YORK Y r , 57 W E — A W N ew o k 18 ANT D IDOW Y r , 57 PAUVRETTE (al s o act ed und er th e titles “ ” “ S NOWFLOWER and TH E S H EP E E O F TH E A N ew o k 18 8 H RD SS LPS Y r , 5 E E B TH E RE EF O F J SSI ROWN ; OR, LI U N ew o k 1 8 8 L CKNOW Y r , 5 OT TH E E H E E N e k 1 D C T . w o 8 ( RICK T ON H ARTH ) Y r , 59 C H AM O O N I TH E T N ew o k 18 HIRD Y r , 59 S MI KE O L E N ew o k 1 8 (NICH AS NICKL BY) Y r , 59 TH E L E O CTOROON ; OR, IF IN N ew o k 18 LOUISIANA Y r , 59 TH E TRIAL OF EFFI E D EANS (H EART M N ew o k 1 860 OF IDLOTHIAN ) Y r , V P O F E ANITY FAIR ; OR , ROUD TH IR V E N ew o k 1 860 IC S Y r , TH E C EE B TH E B E OLL N AWN ; OR, RID S k 6 O F G E . N ew o 1 8 0 ARRYOW N Y r , L - B R E ADY I D ; OR, HARL Q UIN LORD D E om me Lo o 1 862 UNDR ARY , a pant i nd n, A - - P E TH E RRAH NA OGU ; OR, WICKLOW E 86 W . D u 1 DDING blin , 4 RI P VAN W E TH E S EE O F INKL ; OR, L P 86 T E E . o o 1 W NTY Y ARS L nd n, 5 H O W S H E E H I M N ew o k 186 LOV S Y r , 5 TH E P C E M c e s e 1 866 ARISH L RK an h t r, TH E S E Lo o 1 866 LONG TRIK nd n , TH E S A - E E FLYING CUD OR, FOUR L GG D E Lo o 1866 FORTUN nd n, N E D TH E TWO E O F H U T D OWN ; OR, LIV S M E Lo o 1866 ARY L IGH nd n, A WI G E C E o o 186 LD OOS HAS L nd n , 7

2 24 O ne Garter ofEDion fiBnutitauIt

V E VE S e M s s 188 IC RSA p ringfi ld a , 3 TH E B os o 188 AMADAN t n , 3 R E T E E c o 1 88 OB R MM T Chi ag , 4 TH E S an c s co 188 JILT Fran i , 5 P E TH E R E O F HRYN ; OR, OMANC A W FE S an s c o 188 YOUNG I Franci , 7 FI N MAC CO O L B os o 188 t n, 7 C US H LA- M EE B os o 1888 ACHR t n , TH E T E O F N ew o k 18 0 AL A COAT Y r , 9 B LE ME W FE . os o 18 0 ND YOUR I t n , 9 TH E L O F R C N ew o k 1 8 2 UCK OARING AMP Y r , 9

Th er e ar e s till extant als o a ew co i es o A ( , , f p f ’ ” Child s H i s tor o I r eland r i va tel r i nte d i n y f , p y p D ubli n and a ter war d r e r i nte d b J ames O s ood , f p y g , “ B os ton Mas s 1 880 und er th e ti tl e Th e S t r , , , o y of ” I r eland ) W E TO NS ND WALSH .