Part 5

Well, from this time my parents' ambition was fixed for me. Miss Clara Fisher was then at the zenith of her attraction, and father determined that I should be a second "Clara;" I appeared at the Bowery Theatre, at that time a rival to the Old Park, and was managed by the celebrated Mr. Gilfert. George Barrett and his beautiful wife, Charles Young and his really lovely wife, Mrs. Gilfert and Mrs. Holman were in the company. Shall I ever forget my stage-fright whilst waiting to hear my cue as _Little Pickle_ in "The Spoiled Child." But when the time of entrance came every feeling but exhilaration vanished—only the certainty of success remained. From this time to the latter part of 1830 I played as a star with varying success (financially); among other parts, _Dr._ _Pangloss_, in "The Heir at Law," _Goldfinch_, in "The Road to Ruin;" "Winning a Husband" (seven characters); "72 Piccadilly" (five characters); "Actress of All Work" (six characters); "Four Mowbrays;" _Thomas_, in "The Secret;" _Gregory_, in "Turn Out," and the fourth and fifth acts of Richard III. I would here mention that, in acting _Dr. Pangloss_ at the Chestnut Street Theatre, Philadelphia, the elder Joseph Jefferson, grandfather of the present great actor of that name, played _Zekiel Homespun_. Think of that great old actor playing with a child of nine years old! At one time we (father, mother, and I) were associated with Madame Celeste, her sister Constance and husband, Henry Elliott; and we acted and danced through the State of New York. All the towns, now splendid cities with magnificent opera-houses, were then guiltless of any decent halls, and the orchestras were the great difficulties. In Buffalo, a pretty village, the only available music was one violin played by an old darkey, and all he knew was "Hail, Columbia," and "Yankee Doodle;" so, as Celeste danced twice, the orchestra (!) commenced the first time with "Hail, Columbia," and finished with "Yankee Doodle," and for the second dance reversed the order of precedence. Poor Celeste, who spoke very little English then, her patience exhausted, exclaimed "D—— 'Yankee Doodle' and 'Hail, Columbia.'" The latter part of 1830, father, bitten with the idea of management, arranged a partnership with a Mr. Jones, in New York, to take a company out to Jamaica, W. I. In November we started. The company consisted of Mr. W. C. Forbes, Mr. Kelsey, Mr. Crouta, Mr. and Mrs. Holden, Miss Smith, Mr. and Mrs. Jones, and ourselves. When out about ten days we struck a hidden rock—a case of ignorant carelessness, I should think, as it was a most beautiful moonlight night. The ship remained standing, so every one got dressed, ready for leaving, as we could even at night see the beach before us. The captain found that it was San Domingo. In the morning we all got safely to shore, all our baggage with us; then the crew started to erect tents, one for the ladies with the gentlemen appertaining to them, one for the other gentlemen, and one for the crew. Our deck-load had been shingles and staves, which proved very useful, as did all the stores from the ship; and we settled ourselves to stay for some time, as they ascertained that we were forty miles from any settlement, and the captain and one other would have to go to the City of San Domingo and obtain a brig to get us off. To haul by land was impossible. We were there six weeks, and I celebrated my eleventh birthday there. In due season we got to the City of San Domingo, and there obtained some sort of vehicle which took us to Kingston, Jamaica. The company was quite successful there; but yellow fever killed my father, his youngest child, a baby of ten months, and nearly took my mother. Indeed, she had such a siege of illness as for a time to completely prostrate me. By the doctor's advice she went to the north part of the island, to Falmouth. I suppose we acted there, but have no remembrance of it. I only remember the amount of kindness we met with there, really unparalleled. Rumors of insurrection became alarming, and my mother and myself, driven by the leader of the orchestra, Mr. Myers, came across the country to Kingston—more kindness there, till finally we embarked for New York; then to Philadelphia during the first cholera season. That was a fearful time; but youth must have its amusement. In the boarding-house I met Alexina Fisher, a very pretty little girl one year my junior, and we used to act together in the empty attic room—stab each other with great fury and fall upon the ground, until expostulation from the boarders in the third story caused our reconciliation with tears and embraces. In after years Alexina and I were very dear friends. She married John Lewis Baker, a very good actor. She was a charming actress, and they made a moderate fortune in California, which was injured by the deterioration in property. At this time, 1832, the Arch Street Theatre was flourishing pretty well with an entire company of American actors, which was a kind of curiosity, being the first of its kind. The managers were Messrs. William Forrest and Duffy. The company consisted of John R. Scott, Mr. Jones, E. N. Thayer, James E. Murdock, Mrs. Stone, Miss Eliza Riddle, and Mrs. E. N. Thayer. The latter, though of English birth, began her long and honorable career on the stage of this country. Mr. Forrest was backed by his brother Edwin, who produced all his original plays at the Arch Street Theatre—"The Gladiator," "Metamora," "Broker of Bogota," and later "Jack Cade." This season, 1832, "The Ravel Family" came to cheer the oppressed public. What a capital performance it was, and how long they cheered the people! I don't think one of the "Family" is left! We were divided off soon, mother in Baltimore and I in Washington. (During a former engagement in the last-named city, I was on a visit to Mrs. Eaton's little girl, and Mrs. Eaton took me to the President's Levee—General Jackson then filling the chair of state. She introduced me to him. He was very kind and sweet to me, kissed me, and said I was "a very pretty little girl." Need I say that I was a Jackson Democrat from that hour, and have remained one up to date!)

From a lithographic reproduction of a drawing by R. J. Lane, A.R.A. Published by J. Dickinson, London, May, 1830. In the collection of Douglas Taylor, Esq.]

From an engraving by H. B. Hall, after a crystalotype. In the collection of Peter Gilsey, Esq.]

Mr. Kemble and his daughter Fanny acted in Washington in 1833. Of course, it may be said that I was too young to judge, but I shall never forget either of them. Mr. Kemble was the only _Sir Thomas Clifford_ I have ever seen, and he gave to the character a dignity and pathos without parallel. As _Julia_ Fanny was really great, as she was in _Bianca_.

At the close of the season we drifted to Richmond, Va., under the management of Mr. Phillips, known to the profession as "Nosey" Phillips. He did finely with such stars as Booth, Hamblin, Cooper, and Miss Vincent.

I never heard any one read just like the elder Booth. It was beautiful; he made the figure stand before you! It was infinitely tender. Some of the passages of "Lear" were touching in the extreme, though he used Cibber's frightfully bad edition of that sublime tragedy. He had some very odd ways at times. We were playing "Hamlet" one night in Natchez, and during _Ophelia's_ mad scene a cock began to crow lustily. When the curtain fell upon that fourth act this crowing became more constant; and when the manager could not find Mr. Booth to commence the next act, he looked up and saw him perched on the top of the ladder, which was the only way to reach the "flies" in that primitive theatre. The manager ascended the ladder and had quite a lengthy discussion with Mr. Booth, who at last consented to come down on condition that he should resume his high position after the play, and remain there until Jackson was re-elected President.

From a photograph by Fredricks, New York. In the collection of Peter Gilsey, Esq.]

Mr. Hamblin was a splendid-looking man and a very good actor. I don't think he could ever have been called "great." He had a long career as manager of the Bowery Theatre, and brought out several female stars. Miss Naomi Vincent was a very sweet actress, who died in her youth; Miss Josephine Clifton, "divinely fair and more than divinely tall," she being five feet eleven inches high. She was a very beautiful woman, but never arrived at any distinction as an actress. She died young. Mr. Hamblin finally married Mrs. Shaw, a once beautiful woman, bearing a strong resemblance to Mrs. Siddons's portraits. She was an excellent tragedienne, and died in middle age, closing life as Mrs. Judge Phillips.

Mr. Cooper was a very handsome man (the remains of one, when I saw him), eminently gentlemanlike in appearance. In the company of the old Chestnut Street Theatre at this epoch was a young actor, Mr. George Barrett, called generally "Gentleman George." He was a juvenile actor of great local repute in Philadelphia, and moved among all the young swells of that day. He was to play _Laertes_ in "Hamlet" with Cooper, who arrived from Baltimore too late for rehearsal; so George went to his dressing-room in order to ascertain the arrangement of the fencing-match in the last scene. Mr. Cooper was morose, and said, "Go to the prompter, sir, and find out!" When the fencing began, Barrett would not let Cooper disarm him, and the audience could see this fact and became excited. Finally Barrett, with sword down, stood quietly to be run through by Cooper. When the curtain fell Cooper started up in a towering passion, and exclaimed to Barrett, "What did you mean by your conduct, sir?" Drawing himself up to his full height, six feet two inches, Barrett replied, "Go to the prompter, sir, and find out!"

From an engraving by Edwin. In the collection of Peter Gilsey, Esq.]

When they went away there was nobody engaged to follow them. The manager sped away to New York to secure talent, and never returned, leaving us to act if anybody would come to see us; but they didn't. Consequently, we were all anxious to be gone; and somehow the voyage was arranged for, and we embarked on a schooner. The company consisted of Edmon S. Conner, Thomas Hadaway, Mr. Isherwood, mother, myself, and a little half-sister, named Adine. We were wrecked on a sand-bar in Egg Harbor, West Indies, in the middle of a very stormy night. Up and dressed in a few minutes, watching and listening for the planks to give way, as nothing could be done in the way of rescue till morning. Little Adine was quite passive, only saying, "Mamma, if we all go in the water, will God give us breakfast?" Our rescue was somewhat perilous, as we went along the "bowsprit" with our feet on the rope below, and when we got to the end, dropped into the boat at the moment it came up on the waves; but we all got off and had a long walk in the deep sand to the first house we came to, and then after refreshments(!) it was arranged that we should proceed to New York in a "wood boat"—that was, a vessel without any bulwarks, and loaded with wood for building. Into this we were packed, and finally arrived in New York on a magnificent morning. Mother and I had an engagement with Mr. Hamblin at the new "Bowery." At this time I was of a very unhappy age (thirteen), not a child and certainly not a woman, so the chances were against my acting anything of importance. When "The Wife" was brought out I was cast for _Florabel_—a young person who enters with a soliloquy of about fifty lines in Sheridan Knowles's most inflated style, which they "cut out" bodily the second night of the play. There was "another check to proud ambition!" Then Mr. Gale and his horses arrived from England. "Mazeppa" was prepared, Mr. Farren, the stage manager, said at an expense of exactly $100, and they made thousands from it. Then, in consequence of a lady's illness, I got a little chamber-maid's part, with a front scene with Mr. Gates, the popular comedian, and sang a little song called "Nice Young Maiden" for forty-eight successive nights, and was very happy, for my song was always encored. Mother, being ambitious for me, accepted an engagement at "The Warren Theatre," Boston, managed by Mr. Pelby, the well-known actor and manager, where we jointly received a salary of $16 per week. I don't know how we lived; but mother was a splendid manager at that time, a marvellously industrious woman, and we all lived at "Ma" Lenthe's, at the corner of Bowdoin Square, a gable-end. We had a large room on the second story, a trundle-bed which went under the other, for the accommodation of little children, a large closet in which we kept a barrel of ale and all our dresses, and passed a very happy two seasons in the enjoyment of that large salary, which was eked out by the three clear half-benefits very nicely. The company at the "Warren" consisted of Fred Hill, stage manager and actor; J. S. Jones, J. Mills Brown, Mr. Spencer, Mr. Houpt, Mr. Meers, Mr. William Rufus Blake and wife, Miss Pelby, Mr. Pelby, Miss E. Mestayer, Miss Kerr, Miss Arbury, and mother and myself. In the summer some of us went to Portland, Me. I acted _Julia_ there, and won considerable local fame. Some of the patrons of the theatre wanted to see "George Barnwell," and decided that I must act _Millwood_, because I was too young to make ill-thinking possible. At the close of the second season at the "Warren" we went to Halifax, Nova Scotia, to act with the Garrison amateurs twice a week during the summer. We saw a good deal of human nature there—all the petty strife of real actors without their ability. However, it passed the summer away very pleasantly. We were under engagement now to go to New Orleans, to the new St. Charles Theatre; but that didn't open till late in November, so on our return to Boston Mr. Thomas Barry, a very old friend of my parents, offered us an engagement till such time as we should go to New Orleans. Madame Celeste, now a great attraction, played just at the opening, and I (then fifteen) played several young mothers of the rightful heirs in her pieces. Oh, what delight it was then to drag a little child after me during three long acts, to have him wrenched from my arms, torn away in despite of my unearthly shrieks to summon my faithful page (Celeste), who undertook to find him and punish the "wretches who had stolen him," and always succeeded after many hair-breadth escapes in the "imminent deadly breach!" We went to New Orleans in the good ship Star. On the ship were Clara Fisher, Mr. James Gaspard Maeder, to whom she had been married for about a year, their beautiful little baby girl; Miss Charlotte Cushman (Mr. Maeder's pupil), Signor Croffi, a great trombone player; Signor Candori, greatest of bass-violin players; Signor Burkia, great violoncello player, and some others whose names have escaped me, all bound for the new "St. Charles." As our ship entered the Balize, another one laden with more recruits met us, containing Mrs. Gibbs, a lovely soprano; Mr. Latham, the comedian; and many others direct from England, and Mr. T. Bishop. Of course, there were great shaking of hands and affectionate greetings.

Upon our arrival Mr. James H. Caldwell, the owner of the fine St. Charles Theatre, called upon us, and we began the season late in November. The company was a very large one, consisting of Mr. De Camp, Mr. J. Cowell, Mr. Barton, Mr. Latham, Mr. Henry Hunt, Mr. B. De Bar, Mr. Creveta, Mr. James E. Murdock, Mr. Tom Bishop, Mrs. J. G. Maeder, Mr. George Holland, Mrs. S. Conde, Mrs. Bannister, Miss Verity, Miss C. Cushman, Mrs. Gibbs, Miss De Bar, mother and myself. The orchestra was a splendid one, all soloists. Mr. Maeder was music conductor, and Mr. Willis the leader. We opened with "The School for Scandal." Mrs. Maeder's reception as _Lady Teazle_ was memorable; I was _Maria_. In "The Spoiled Child," which concluded the performance, Miss De Bar played _Little Pickle_, and made quite a hit. Mr. Caldwell wanted me to do it, but I begged off. In the March following I was married, at sixteen, to Mr. Henry Blaine Hunt, a very good singer, a nice actor, and a very handsome man of forty. In the summer we went to Louisville, and returned to New Orleans for the second season. During this season Madame Celeste produced "Le Dieu and Le Bayadère." Mr. George Holland went to Havana as agent, and engaged two dancers to alternate the second "Bayadère." At the end of the piece Celeste sent for me (we were all Bayadères), and said, "Louise, you must be the second Bayadère to-morrow; I will not have those coming from Havana. They are too dreadful!" She denied all remonstrances, and I danced the trial dance for twelve nights with considerable applause.

From a photograph by Fredricks, New York. In the collection of Peter Gilsey, Esq.]

Drawn on stone from life by S. H. Gimber. In the collection of Peter Gilsey, Esq.]

Acting on Sunday came into fashion this season, and as at that time I was too good a Christian to do that, and as I acted in everything, there was a great trouble to get my parts studied for one night. My engagement closed with the season. The next season was spent in Vicksburg, Miss., under the management of Scott & Thorne. Mr. Scott was known as "Long Tom Coffin" Scott, and Mr. James Thorne was an English barytone who had come over to the Old Park, and had drifted into low comedy, and was a very good actor. Here I played chamber-maids and all the like business. The next season Mr. Thorne went to Natchez, Miss., and we went with him. This was my first recognized position as leading lady; we played "The Lady of Lyons" for the first time. Mr. C. Horn (?) was the _Claude Melnotte_; it was very successful. Here I first acted _Lady Macbeth_ with Mr. Forrest; sang _Cinderella_ and _Rosina_ in the stock, and at the close of the season went to Philadelphia. There I was engaged by Mr. Mayer for the Walnut Street Theatre for leading lady, at the highest salary known there, $20 per week. How did we do it? Of course, we didn't dress as we do now, and I am inclined to think all the better. The next two seasons were passed at the old Chestnut Street Theatre. Mr. Tyrone Power acted there for three weeks; and as he had specified all the company were to play in his pieces, I was in every one except "The Irish Tutor" and "Flanigan and the Fairies." He was a truly great actor in his line, and chose to be very agreeable during his last engagement. During the latter part of the second season the payments became so infrequent that I was obliged to stop playing, and went to Pittsburg with Mr. Dinneford of the Walnut. Here we produced "London Assurance" with a degree of excellence unheard of in that vicinity—a fountain of real water, and entirely new carpet and furniture, mirrors, and new costumes.

Then we drifted into Cincinnati and Louisville, where we were in dire straits; and I played _Richard the Third_, to get us out of town, and it did!

(To be concluded in November.)

THE CHRONICLES OF AUNT MINERVY ANN

By Joel Chandler Harris

HOW SHE AND MAJOR PERDUE FRAILED OUT THE GOSSETT BOYS

The visit of Aunt Minervy Ann, which enabled her to take the place of the absent cook, has already been told of, and I have tried to reproduce the somewhat singular narrative which was the outcome of her conversation on the veranda. It so happened that the cook was late the next morning and Aunt Minervy Ann insisted on getting breakfast, in spite of the fact that it compelled her to miss her train and rendered her return ticket of no value.

It was getting on to ten o'clock when the cook arrived, bringing with her a thousand plausible excuses, and a tangled tale of adventure. She was very much surprised to see the kitchen occupied, but saluted Aunt Minervy Ann modestly. The response to the salute was quite characteristic.

"Ain't you a Newnan nigger?" Aunt Minervy Ann asked, with some asperity.

"Yessum, I is," replied the cook, somewhat surprised.

"Den 'tain't no need ter ax what you got in yo' pocket," was the dry remark.

"Which pocket?" inquired the cook, slapping herself somewhat nervously. On one of her fingers was a large brass ring, and when she slapped her pocket, this ring struck against something which gave forth an unmistakable sound. It was a bottle.

"Huh!" exclaimed Aunt Minervy Ann; "yo' han' kin tell de trufe quicker'n yo' tongue."

"Well, I declare to gracious!" sighed the cook. "How did you know I was frum Newnan?"

"Why, you got de look on you. De white er yo' eyes is blood red, you got yo' ha'r wrop de wrong way, an' dar's dat ar tickler in yo' pocket."

"Well, I declare!" cried the cook; "you outdoes me!" There was a note of admiration in her voice calculated to propitiate her critic.

"Come on in here, den, an' git ter work," said Aunt Minervy Ann. "Dey ain't nothin' ter do but ter cook de dinner. An' don't put so much wood in dat range. You kin cook dat dinner wid five mo' little sticks ef you put um in at de right time."