Act Five, in front of a milliner’s shop. The latter portrayed a street

in Paris, shadowed by strange, “high-shouldered” houses, through which the wretched _du Barry_, abject and terrified, was dragged to execution,--huddled in a tumbril, attended only by a priest, the _Papal Nuncio_, and followed by a fierce, hooting rabble, while other men and women appeared at various house-windows, to jeer and curse her. It was an afflictingly pathetic scene, conceived and executed with perfect sense of dramatic effect and perfect mastery of the means of creating it.

This was the original cast of “Du Barry”:

_King Louis the Fifteenth_ of France Charles A. Stevenson. _Comte Jean du Barry_ Campbell Gollan. _Comte Guillaume du Barry_ Beresford Webb. _Duc de Brissac_ Henry Weaver, Sr. _Cossé-Brissac_ Hamilton Revelle. _The Papal Nuncio_ H. R. Roberts. _Duc de Richelieu_ Frederick Perry. _Terray, Minister of Finance_ C. P. Flockton. _Maupeou, Lord Chancellor_ H. G. Carlton. _Duc d’Aiguillon_ Leonard Cooper. _Denys_ Claude Gillingwater. _Lebel_ Herbert Millward. _M. Labille_ Gilmore Scott. _Vaubernier_ Walter Belasco.

_Scario_ J. D. Jones. _Zamore_ Master Sams. _Jeweller_ B. L. Clinton. _Perfumer_ Edward Redford. _Glover_ Thomas Thorne. _Flute Player_ A. Joly. _A Turk_ Albert Sanford. _Valroy_ Douglas Wood. _D’Altaire_ Louis Myll. _De Courcel_ Harold Howard. _La Garde_ W. T. Bune. _Fontenelle_ Warren Bevin. _Renard_ Arthur Pearson. _Citizen Grieve_ Gaston Mervale. _Marac_ Walter Belasco. _Benisot_ H. G. Carlton. _Tavernier_ John Ingram. _Gomard_ Charles Hayne. _Hortense_ Eleanor Carey. _Lolotte_ Nina Lyn. _Manon_ Florence St. Leonard. _Julie_ Corah Adams. _Leonie_ Blanche Sherwood. _Nichette_ Ann Archer. _Juliette_ May Lyn. _Marquise de Quesnoy_ Blanche Rice. _Sophie Arnauld_ Helen Robertson. _The Gypsy Hag_ C. P. Flockton. _Mlle. Le Grand_ Ruth Dennis. _Mlle. Guinard_ Eleanor Stuart. _Mme. le Dauphine_ { _Marie Antoinette_ } Helen Hale. { at sixteen } _Marquise de Crenay_ Dora Goldthwaite. _Duchesse d’Aiguillon_ Miss Lyn. _Princesse Alixe_ Miss Leonard. _Duchesse de Choisy_ Louise Morewin. _Marquise de Langers_ May Montford. _Comtesse de Marsen_ Edith Van Benthuysen. _Sophia_ Irma Perry. _Rosalie_ Helen Robertson. _Cerisette_ Julie Lindsey. _Jeannette Vaubernier_, { afterward } Mrs. Leslie Carter. { “_La du Barry_” }

RICHEPIN AND THE “DU BARRY” LAWSUIT.

After Belasco had rejected Richepin’s play about du Barry, returned the manuscript of it to him, and announced that he would produce a play about that celebrated favorite of royalty, written by himself, there was much pother in theatrical circles and much newspaper parade of warnings and threats, by Richepin and various of his agents, of the dire consequences which would fall upon him for so doing. The once widely known firm of lawyers, Howe & Hummel, were the American representatives of the French Authors’ Society, which supported Richepin, and Mr. A. Hummel,--who, 1905, was convicted of subornation of perjury, imprisoned for one year on Blackwells Island, and debarred,--who was the active member of that firm, on January 25, 1902, brought suit against Belasco,

on behalf of the French author, alleging, substantially, that Belasco’s “Du Barry” was, in fact, Richepin’s drama of similar name (“La du Barry”) and demanding an accounting for the receipts from representations of it. Belasco’s reply to the complaint in that suit was served on March 4, 1902, and it was explicit and conclusive. In that answer he specifies that on July 22, 1899, he entered into a contract with M. Richepin, which that author obtained “by false and fraudulent representations,” wherein he agreed to write for Belasco a “new and original” play about du Barry, which was to be “entirely satisfactory to this defendant [Belasco],”--failing which he was at liberty to reject the work and return it to Richepin. Belasco, “relying upon the said representations, statements, and promises, and not otherwise, and believing the same to be true, paid to the plaintiff, on the signing and execution of the agreement, the sum of $1,000”; and, on or about July 1, 1901, upon receiving from Richepin (in London, during the run of “Zaza”) the manuscript, in French, of “La du Barry,” he paid $1,500 more. Of his own play, “Du Barry,” Belasco swore that it is “wholly composed and originated by this defendant, without any aid or assistance whatever from the play alleged to have been written by” Richepin. The latter’s play, Belasco pointed out, was “not new and original,” as required by the contract between them, but was “taken, plagiarized, pirated, and copied, by the plaintiff, from public sources and publications, common and open to the public, and that the said play was wholly unsatisfactory to him [Belasco], of which fact he notified the plaintiff, and that the said manuscript was thereafter returned to, and accepted by, the plaintiff.” A motion on behalf of Richepin to strike out these damaging clauses from Belasco’s answer was made and argued before Justice Freeman, in the Supreme Court, March 13,--Mr. Hummel maintaining that the allegations of fraud and plagiarism by Richepin were “irrelevant and redundant.” The motion was peremptorily denied,--after which the legal ardor of the French poet and his agents cooled and his suit languished: Richepin never proceeded in the case (which appears to have been an effort to extort money from Belasco), and it was formally discontinued in January, 1908.

Richepin’s play (called “Du Barri”) was produced by Mrs. Cora Urquhart Potter, March 18, 1905, at the Savoy Theatre, London, and it was a complete failure. “I had planned to take Mrs. Carter to London, in ‘Du Barry,’” Belasco has told me, “but Mrs. Potter’s failure was so decisive that I gave up all thought of attempting to do so.” Writing about the “Du Barry” lawsuit, Belasco says: “Our quarrel was long and heated, but eventually all was ‘forgotten and forgiven,’ and I could once more read Richepin’s mellow poetry without tearing my hair, and Richepin said publicly, ‘The rest is silence,’ or something as nearly like it as the Frenchman _can_ say,”--which, truly, was most generous on the part of “the Frenchman,” in view of the fact that, altogether, Belasco had paid him $8,500 in a venture toward making which he had, at most, contributed merely the suggestion of a subject.

A GRACIOUS TRIBUTE:--“REMEMBER THAT WE LOVED YOU.”

On the first day of the new year, 1902, Belasco was the recipient of a gracious tribute which, as he feelingly said to me, is one of his most cherished memories. The performance ended about half-past eleven on the night of December 31, 1901, and a little before midnight all the members of the company concerned in representation of his drama assembled on the stage about Belasco, Mrs. Carter, and Charles A. Stevenson, ostensibly to greet the new year. Just at midnight beautiful silver chimes slowly rang out the hour, and as Belasco turned to wish the assembled company a happy New Year Mr. Stevenson stepped forward before he could speak and, uncovering a massive and beautiful loving-cup of silver set upon an ebony pedestal, presented it to Belasco “as a token of the great esteem and true affection with which, during the long and arduous preparation of ‘Du Barry,’ every member of your organization has learned to regard you.” Belasco, always warm-hearted and peculiarly susceptible to even casual acts of courtesy and kindness, was so much affected by the cordial feeling displayed by all about him in the conveyance of this rich gift that for several moments he was unable to make any acknowledgment. Then, speaking with difficulty and almost in a whisper, he said: “I--I thank you, all--all--from my heart. It is very lovely. You have worked so hard, with me and for me--all of you--so nobly and so unselfishly that I feel it is _I_ who should give a loving-cup to you--to every member of the company. In all my experience I have not received a more generous, touching tribute--anything which I have appreciated more. I am poor in words--I can only say to all of you thank you, thank you, thank you--a thousand thousand times.”

As Belasco ceased speaking the orchestra began to play the air of “Maryland, My Maryland,” passing

from that into other melodies associated with his successful plays and closing with a plaintive tune written specially for use in “Du Barry.”

On the “Du Barry” loving-cup there are three inscriptions. The first is

Washington, D. C. December 12, 1901 Mrs Leslie Carter in David Belasco’s Play “Du Barry”

The second is

Presented to Mr. David Belasco by the Members of His Company New Year’s, 1902

The third is a line from the play of “Du Barry”:

“Remember that we loved you; we loved you through it all”

THE THEATRIC _RICHMOND_ “LOOKS PROUDLY O’ER THE CROWN.”

The upward progress which Belasco made in the Theatre within a period of six years is amazing. When the curtain was raised for the first performance of his “The Heart of Maryland,” at the Herald Square, in October, 1895, he possessed almost nothing except his reputation as one of the most skilful of stage managers and a copious crop of debts. When the curtain fell on the last performance in 1901 of “Du Barry,” at the Criterion, he was, as dramatist, director, and theatrical manager, known, esteemed, and recognized throughout the English-speaking world: his debts were all discharged: he possessed a competent fortune, hosts of admirers, troops of friends: within less than three years he had made three memorably successful presentments in the British capital (where American ventures are supposed always to fail!): three of the most accomplished and popular actors of the American Stage, Mrs. Carter, Blanche Bates, and David Warfield, were under his direction and closely bound to him. The whirligig of Time had indeed brought striking changes. Lester Wallack, Edwin Booth, Lawrence Barrett, John McCullough--they were but names in theatrical management. Augustin Daly, the great representative manager of the Theatre in America, was dead. Albert M. Palmer, once Daly’s rival, was obscurely employed as a “business agent” for Richard Mansfield, while Mansfield’s own ambitious but ill-fated essay in theatre management (at the Garrick, New York, in 1895) was completely forgotten; Mansfield was definitely committed to the policy of a “travelling star,” and the Theatre in New York was Charles Frohman’s much vaunted Department Store. Mr. and Mrs. Harrison Grey Fiske, at the Manhattan, were indeed maintaining an admirable dramatic company and making an earnest endeavor in authentic theatrical management. But, in general, the mean spirit of the petty huckster and the sordid, selfish policy of trade monopoly dominated the American Stage; the chair of artistic managerial sovereignty was empty, “the sword unswayed, the empire unpossessed,” and Belasco, ambitiously emulative of great exemplars in his vocation, like a theatric _Richmond_, looked “proudly o’er the crown.” He was, unquestionably, the natural successor to Wallack, Booth, and Daly; but in order to seize their pre-eminence, to win and wear their laurel crown of leadership, he required to have what they had each possessed,--namely, a theatre of his own in the capital. There seemed no chance of his obtaining one: yet, without such a citadel, notwithstanding all his labor and achievement, he might easily be crushed: the oppressive hand of the Theatrical Syndicate (in his estimation veritably a “wretched, bloody, and usurping boar”) had already been laid heavily on Belasco: a half-interest in his presentment of Warfield in “The Auctioneer” had been extorted from him and an equal share in his exploitations of Mrs. Carter and Miss Bates had been demanded, though not yielded up. What if he should be denied “routes” for those players? He had brought out Mrs. Carter in “Du Barry” at the Criterion not because he wished to do so,--that house, which accommodated only 932 persons, being far too small for an advantageous season,--but because it was the only theatre in New York which he could secure. Charles Frohman was its manager and Charles Frohman was a member of the Syndicate: the Criterion might be closed to him at the end of his current contract. If shut off from the “first class theatres” of the leading cities “on the road” and shut out of New York he would practically be ruined. These and similar considerations gave grounds for grave uneasiness to Belasco. On the afternoon of January 7, 1902, he was alone in his office, a little room in Carnegie Hall, as he had been every afternoon for more than a week, seeking to devise some means of obtaining control of a New York theatre for a term of years. Toward evening he was disturbed by a knocking at the office door. His visitor, when admitted, proved to be the theatrical manager Oscar Hammerstein, between whom and himself there existed merely a casual acquaintance. “Mr. Belasco,” said Hammerstein, without any preliminaries, “the Theatrical Syndicate is trying to crush me out of business. Valuable attractions have been prevented from patronizing my houses this season. I must have attractions. You must have a New York theatre, or you will find yourself helpless. I have one in Forty-second Street, the Republic, which I am willing to turn over to you. I have come up here on an impulse, on the chance that you may be willing to take over control of the Republic.” Belasco instantly replied: “Mr. Hammerstein, I shall be very glad to take over your theatre.” In less than a week all details of agreement had been arranged between the two managers, and on January 14, in the office of Judge A. J. Dittenhoefer, they signed a contract whereby Belasco undertook the management of the Republic Theatre. That contract was for a period of five years, with an option of renewal by Belasco for another five years, and under it he assumed full government of the theatre,--engaging himself to pay to Hammerstein a rental of $30,000 a year and 10 per cent. of the gross receipts from all performances given there. It was also stipulated that neither Mrs. Carter, Blanche Bates, David Warfield, nor any other “star or attraction” under Belasco’s management should play at any other New York theatre, “except for one week each at the Harlem Opera House and the Grand Opera House.” “That lease,” Belasco has declared to me, “was a great thing for Hammerstein,--but it was a greater thing for me, and I did not forget that afterward, when I was paying him from $60,000 to $72,000 a year for his theatre. When some of my friends used to say to me, ‘Don’t you realize that you are paying Hammerstein an _unheard-of_ rent for his house?’ I used to answer, ‘And don’t _you_ realize how very lucky I am _to be in a position_ to pay him an unheard-of rent?’”

A DANGEROUS ACCIDENT.--ALTERING THE REPUBLIC.

A few weeks subsequent to signing the lease of the Republic Theatre with Hammerstein Belasco met with an accident which came near to putting an end to all his projects by causing his death. On the night of March 16 he witnessed a performance of his “Du Barry,” at the Criterion. While the setting was being placed for the last scene--a cumbrous, intricate setting, in which he took special interest--he left his box in the auditorium and went upon the stage to direct the work. As he did so a large and heavy cornice which was being swung into position high in air broke and fell, striking him full upon the head. Another piece of scenery, thrown out of balance by the falling cornice, collapsed, and in a moment Belasco was buried beneath a mass of tangled wreckage. He was with difficulty extricated, unconscious and profusely bleeding. A physician was called, who, after a quarter of an hour, having stanched the bleeding, succeeded in restoring the injured manager to consciousness. It was at first feared that he had sustained a fracture of the skull, but happily he was found to be suffering only from shock and loss of blood due to a severe scalp wound. He was removed to his home and within a few days he had regained his usual health.

After carefully examining the interior of the Republic Theatre Belasco became convinced that it required to be altered for his use. “The stage was wrong, the house was wrong, and the colors set my teeth on edge,” he has told me. Hammerstein was willing that he should make any changes he desired. Belasco, accordingly, took possession of the theatre at about the end of March and, on April 19, 1902, the work of altering it so as to make it conform to his wishes was begun. He started that work intending to spend from $15,000 to $20,000 on improvements. When it was finished he had expended more than $150,000. The whole interior of the building was torn out, leaving nothing but four walls and part of the roof. Toward the front of the property a space was blasted out of solid rock wherein, beneath the auditorium, were built a retiring-room for women and a smoking-room for men. A sub-stage chamber, more than twenty-five feet deep, was also blasted out of the rock,--incidental to which excavation a perpetual spring of water was tapped. Talking with me about his experience in remodelling the Republic Theatre, Belasco, in his characteristically cheery and philosophical way, said: “I remember your telling me about the trouble Edwin Booth got into, blasting out a ledge of rock when he was building his theatre [Booth’s Theatre, Twenty-third Street and Sixth Avenue, 1868-’69], but I don’t believe he had half as bad a time as we did when that spring broke loose! I was so crazy about having my own theatre I wanted to have a hand in everything and I used to go down and fire some of the blasts, in spite of the protests of my family and staff, who expected I’d blow myself to Kingdom Come. And it was _I_ who fired the charge that started that spring! My boys in the theatre used to call me ‘Moses’ after that, for that I did smite the rock and there came water out of it. We _damned_ it, heartily, I can tell you, but it was a long time before we could get it _dammed_, and it cost me a small fortune to have the stage cavity cemented in.”

One day, during the work of alteration, a stranger presented himself to Belasco, demanding that he be permitted to inspect the property and explaining that he held a mortgage on it. “I had nothing to do with the mortgage,” Belasco told me; “that was Mr. Hammerstein’s business; but I let him come in. He surveyed the scene of devastation with horror, standing on a scaffold, high up, and gazing into the black pit. ‘God above me!’ he exclaimed, after a little while, ‘I’ve got a mortgage on four walls and a hole in the ground!’--and he fled. I never saw him again.”

THE FIRST BELASCO THEATRE.

The work of demolishing and rebuilding the Republic for Belasco was performed in five months. When it was completed he possessed one of the handsomest and best equipped playhouses in the world. “The theatre,” Belasco has often said, “is, first of all, a place for the _acting of plays_.” That simple statement might be deemed a platitude, were it not for the striking fact that its maker is the _only_ theatrical manager of the present day who practically recognizes its truth: to the majority of other managers the theatre, it seems, is, primarily, a place for almost anything rather than _acting_,--is, in fact, first of all, a place for the exploitation of their tedious conceit and the making of money by any means. The stage of the Belasco Theatre was designed and built with the purpose of obviating the disadvantages of restricted space and of affording every possible mechanical aid to the acting of plays. The entire “acting surface” of that stage--the entire surface, that is, which could be revealed to the view of the spectators,--was a mosaic of close-fitting trapdoors, so that on occasion it might be opened at any place desired. In the centre of the stage was “an elevator,”--that is, in fact, a movable platform,--fifteen feet wide and thirty feet long. Upon this platform, when it had been lowered into the cellar cavity, were placed the paraphernalia required in the setting of the scenes,--articles technically designated as “properties” (furniture, etc.), and “set pieces” (solid, heavy parts of scenic rooms, houses, etc.)--which were then raised to the stage level for use: when done with, these paraphernalia were sunk again into the cellarage, where the platform bearing them was shifted aside and another similar one, loaded with material for the next setting, replaced it and was in turn raised to the stage.

The drops (painted cloths), ceilings, etc., were all arranged for hoisting into the flies, as in most modern theatres; but Belasco had the ropes by which these articles were raised from his stage so attached to counterweights and cranks that one man could, with ease, raise pieces which, in former times, it had required from three to six men to hoist.

The footlights were so arranged that the light from them was diffused upon the stage and players without the spectators, even those in the upper stage boxes, being able to perceive whence it came. The electric lamps in the footlights, borders, etc., were placed in small, individual compartments, so that no unintentional blending of lights could occur: but every necessary different color of lamp was provided and all the lamps in the house, whether upon the stage or in the auditorium, were connected “on resistance,”--that is, so connected with the electric current feed wires that the lights could be (as invariably they were) turned up or down, as required, gently, by degrees. In short, every arrangement that knowledge, experience, and prevision could suggest as necessary and that liberality, ingenuity, and care could devise was provided. “I have an even better electrical equipment in my present theatre than I had in my first house,” Belasco has said to me, “and I am proud of it. But in my first house I had the very best there was in the world at the time. I had a plant that would have lit a palace: in fact, I very much doubt whether there was a palace anywhere in all the world as well equipped in the matter of lighting.”

Belasco’s first theatre contained seating accommodation for 950 persons,--300 in the gallery, 200 in the balcony, and 450 on the orchestra, or main, floor. No effort or expense was spared to make the house in every way comfortable and delightful to all who visited it. Outside, in front, a massive iron marquee-awning shadowed the main entrance, overhanging the street-walk out to the curb. The doors of the theatre were of heavy wrought iron and opened into a lobby which was, in fact, a sort of reception hall. The walls and ceilings of this lobby were sheathed in oak panelling of antique finish, and large, luxurious seats of heavy oak, upholstered in leather, were placed at each end of it. Across the rear of the auditorium, on the orchestra floor, close to the hindermost row of seats, extended a massive screen built of rosewood, with heavy crystal lights, to protect the audience within from drafts of air and to exclude street sounds. The colors of the decorations were reds, greens, and deep golden browns,--all used in warm, subdued shades. The rear and side walls were hung with rich tapestries, depicting an autumnal forest. The

floors were covered with heavy, soft, dark-green velvet carpets. The seats were upholstered in silk tapestry of a complementary shade of silver-green color, and on the back of each of them was embroidered the semblance of a bee,--fit emblem of Belasco’s energetic, ceaseless toil. The ceiling and dome were handsomely decorated in dull gold, sparingly used, with soft grays and rose. There were two drop curtains,--one of heavy, rose-colored velvet; the other an old-fashioned one of plain green baize. Every detail of the architecture and decorations was delicate and harmonious, and the general effect was at once opulent and restful. The architects employed by Belasco were Messrs. Bigelow, Wallis & Cotton, of New York: the director was Mr. Rudolph Allen. But the active inspiration of all this beauty and luxury provided for the public enjoyment, the conglutinating and executive force which in the face of manifold dissensions and difficulties held all the associate laborers together and drove through to successful completion all the varied work of invention and reconstruction, was Belasco himself. At last he had carried bricks for himself to some lasting purpose! When he opened his playhouse it was in every detail as well as in every essential a new theatre, veritably the creation of _his_ mind and will, and he very appropriately dropped the name of the Republic and called it The Belasco Theatre.

“AFTER THIRTY YEARS OF LABOR.”--BELASCO IN HIS OWN THEATRE;--THE OPENING NIGHT.

The first Belasco Theatre was opened on Monday night, September 29, 1902, with a revival of “Du Barry.” The night was sultry, but the house was crowded, in every part, far beyond its normal capacity; the performance was one of remarkable fluency, vigor, and intensity, and it was received by the audience with well-nigh frantic manifestations of enthusiasm. After the Third Act there were more than twenty curtain calls, and finally, in response to vociferous crying for him by name, Belasco came upon the stage, dishevelled, pale, and weary, but very happy, and addressed the audience, saying:

“Ladies and Gentlemen: It is so hard for me to speak to you as I would wish. There is so much to say, yet so little that I can say. It is your kind sympathy and approval that have made this little playhouse possible. I owe you--the public--far, far more than I can tell. You all know that it has been my life-work, my greatest ambition, to give you the best I could. In this I can honestly say I have not faltered since I first knocked at your door,

many years ago. And in that endeavor I stand firm to-night. I thank the friends who have upheld me so loyally all these many years. I thank the press for the encouragement I have received. There are some very beautiful things in the lives of those I have followed, and one of these is the fellowship of brother workers. I am always inspired, I always shall be inspired, by the memory and example of three inimitable comrades of the Theatre,--one the late Lester Wallack, another the late, lamented Augustin Daly, and yet another who is still with us, who has given the best years of his life to advance the art which both you and I love so well: I refer to Mr. A. M. Palmer. They fought the good fight, these three; they kept the faith. They gave us glorious traditions to remember and live up to. They gave all to advance the highest. This is something we must never forget.

“Ladies and gentlemen, there is another of whom I must make some mention--one whose sympathy and help have contributed to my being here to-night. I mean my friend and companion in work, Mrs. Leslie Carter. Here and now I wish gratefully to acknowledge the debt of her services, her unselfishness and loyalty in time of many struggles.

“I have many plans for this little theatre, ladies and gentlemen. Let me say just a word to you about the managerial policy. I am anxious to make my patrons feel at home when they honor me by coming, and so I have tried to make your surroundings in front of the curtain those of a comfortable, home-like drawing-room. I intend that the productions and casts shall be the best that work and care can provide. In all ways I desire to make this new dramatic home of ours a dwelling of refinement, good taste, good entertainment, and good art. No stone shall be left unturned, no effort unmade, to accomplish that end. You cannot know what it means to me to speak to you, at last, after thirty years of labor in the dramatic calling, from the stage of my own theatre. Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you--I thank you--I can say no more.”

THE FIRST PROGRAMME.

The following is the programme, in detail, of the first performance given in Belasco’s Theatre on what was, in many ways, the happiest and proudest night of all his life:

BELASCO THEATRE

_BROADWAY AND FORTY-SECOND STREET_

UNDER THE SOLE MANAGEMENT OF DAVID BELASCO

* * * * *

_Evenings at 8 precisely_ _Matinees Saturdays at 2_

* * * * *

DAVID BELASCO

_PRESENTS_

Mrs. Leslie Carter

_IN HIS NEW PLAY_

“DU BARRY”

“_Not the great historical events, but the personal incidents that call up single, sharp pictures of some human being in its pang or struggle, reach us more nearly._”--OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES.

CAST

_King Louis the Fifteenth_ of France C. A. Stevenson. _Comte Jean du Barry_, eventually brother-in-law of _La du Barry_ Campbell Gollan. _Comte Guillaume du Barry_, his brother Beresford Webb. _Duc de Brissac_, Capt. of King’s Guard Henry Weaver, Sr. _Cossé-Brissac_, his son (of the King’s Guard), known as “_Cossé_” Hamilton Revelle. _The Papal Nuncio_ H. R. Roberts. } Under { _Duc de Richelieu_, Marshal of France } _King Louis_ { Geo. Barnum. _Maupeou_, Lord Chancellor } _the_ { C. P. Flockton. _Terray_, Minister of Finance } _Fifteenth_ { H. G. Carlton. _Duc D’Aiguillon_ Leonard Cooper. _Denys_, porter at the milliner shop Claude Gillingwater. _Lebel_, confidential valet to His Majesty Herbert Millward. _M. Labille_, proprietor of the milliner shop Gilmore Scott. _Vaubernier_, father of _Jeannette_ Charles Campbell. _Scarlo_, one of “_La du Barry’s_” Nubian servants J. D. Jones. _Zamore_, a plaything of “_La du Barry’s_” Master Sams. _Flute Player_ A. Joly. _Valroy_ } Of the { Douglas J. Wood. _D’Allaire_ } _King’s_ Guard { Louis Myll. _De Courcel_ } { Harold Howard. _La Garde_ } Two Tavern { W. T. Bune. _Fontenelle_ } Roysterers { Thomas Boone. _Benard_, one of the “Hundred Swiss” Warren Deven. _Citizen Grieve_, of the Committee of Public Safety Gaston Mervale. _Marac_, one of the Sans-Culottes James Sargeant. _Denisot_, Judge of the Revolutionary Court H. G. Carlton. _Tavernier_, clerk of the court John Ingram. _Gomard_ Charles Hayne. _Hortense_, Manageress for _Labille_ the milliner Eleanor Carey. _Lolotte_ } { Nina Lyn. _Manon_ } Girls { Florence St. Leonard. _Julie_ } at the { Corah Adams. _Leonie_ } Milliner’s { Blanche Sherwood. _Nichette_ } Shop { Ann Archer. _Juliette_ } { May Lyn. _Marquise du Quesnoy_, known as “_La Gourdan_,” keeper of a gambling house Blanche Rice. _Sophie Arnauld_, queen of the opera Miss Robertson. _The Gypsy Hag_, a fortune-teller C. P. Flockton. _Mlle. Le Grand_ } Dancers from the { Ruth Dennis. _Mlle. Guimard_ } Grand Opera { Eleanor Stuart. _Mme. La Dauphine_--_Marie Antoinette_ at sixteen Helen Hale. _Marquise de Crenay_ } { Helen Robertson. _Duchesse D’Aiguillon_ } Ladies { Miss Lyn. _Princesse Alixe_ } of { Miss Leonard. _Duchesse de Choisy_ } _King Louis_ { Louise Morewin. _Marquise de Langers_ } Court { May Montford. _Comtesse de Marsen_ } { Grace Van Benthuysen. _Sophie_, a maid Irma Perry. _Rosalie_, of the Concièrgerie Helen Robertson. _Cerisette_ Julie Lindsey.

AND

_JEANNETTE VAUBERNIER_, afterwards _La du Barry_ MRS. LESLIE CARTER.

* * * * *

Guests of the Fête, Dancers from the Opera, King’s Guardsmen, Monks, Clowns, Pages, Milliners, Sentries, Lackeys, Footmen, King’s Secret Police, Sans-Culottes, a Mock King, a Mock Herald, a Drunken Patriot, a Cocoa Vender, Federals, National Guards, Tricoteuses.

* * * * *

SYNOPSIS OF SCENES.