Part 17
As was the case in England, Charles was the only American manager who made any impression upon the French drama. From his earliest producing days he had a weakness for producing adapted French plays. From France came some of his hugest successes, especially those of Bernstein. He "bulled" the French market on prices. The French playwright hailed him with joy, for he always left a small fortune behind him.
Having established a precedent with Gillette, he now presented his first American woman star in England. It was Annie Russell in Bret Harte's story "Sue." He was very fond of this play, having already produced it in the United States, and he was very proud of the impression that Miss Russell made in London.
* * *
Up to this time Frohman had made his English productions in conjunction with the Gattis or George Edwardes at the Adelphi, the Vaudeville, or the Garrick theaters. This would have satisfied most people. But Frohman, who wanted to do things in a big way, naturally desired his own English theater, where he could unfurl his own banner and do as he pleased.
Early in 1897, therefore, he took what was up to that time his biggest English step, for he leased the Duke of York's Theater for nineteen years. His name went over the doorway and from that time on this theater was the very nerve-center, if not the soul, of Charles Frohman's English operations. It was one of the best known and the most substantial of British playhouses, located in St. Martin's Lane, in the very heart of the theatrical district. He took a vast pride in his control of it. He even emblazoned the announcement of his London management on the walls of the Empire on Broadway in New York. In his affections it was in England what the Empire was to him in America. It was destined to be the background of his distinguished artistic endeavors, perhaps the most distinguished.
Charles now embarked on a sea of lavish productions. Typical of his attitude was his employment of the best-known and highest-salaried producer in London. This man was Dion Boucicault, son of the famous playwright of the same name, who was himself a very finished and versatile actor. He gave the Frohman productions a touch of genuine distinction, and his wife, the accomplished Irene Vanbrugh, added much to the attractiveness of the Frohman ventures.
The Frohman sponsorship of the Duke of York's was celebrated with a magnificent production of Anthony Hope's "The Adventure of Lady Ursula," which had been a success in New York with E. H. Sothern. It ran the entire season. The play was put on in the usual Frohman way, so much so that the British critics said that "the production, from first to last, was correct down to a coat-button."
Until the end of his life the Duke of York's Theater had a large place in his heart. At the back of private box F, which was his own box, and which was also used for royalty when it visited the play, was a comfortable retiring-room, charmingly decorated in red. Here Frohman loved to sit and entertain his friends, especially such close intimates as Sir James M. Barrie, Haddon Chambers, Sir Arthur Pinero, Henry Arthur Jones, Michael Morton, and other English playwrights.
These busy days at the Duke of York's furnished Frohman with many amusing episodes. On one occasion he was caught in the self-operating elevator of the theater and was kept a prisoner in it for over an hour. His employees were in consternation. When he was finally extricated they began to apologize most profusely.
"Nonsense!" said Frohman. "I am glad I got stuck. It's the first vacation I have had in two years."
The lobby of the Duke of York's illustrates one of Charles's distinctive ideas. Instead of ornamenting it with pictures of dead dramatic heroes like Shakespeare and Garrick, he filled it with photographs of his live American stars. The English theater-goers who went there saw huge portraits of Maude Adams, Ethel Barrymore, Marie Doro, John Drew, Otis Skinner, and William Gillette.
On one occasion he was held up at the entrance of the Duke of York's by a new doorkeeper who asked for his ticket.
"I am Frohman," said the manager.
"Can't help it, sir; you've got to have a ticket."
"You're quite right," said Frohman, who went to the box-office and bought himself a stall seat. When the house-manager, James W. Matthews, threatened to discharge the doorkeeper, Frohman said:
"Certainly not. The man was obeying orders. If he had done otherwise you should have discharged him."
Frohman so loved the Duke of York's that he would go back to it and witness the same play twenty times. During his last visit to England, when his right knee was troubling him, he telephoned down one night to have his box reserved. Matthews, to spare him any trouble, had a little platform built so that he would not have to walk up the steps. Two weeks later, Frohman again telephoned that he wanted the box held, and added:
"I am better now. Don't bother to build a theater for me."
Curiously enough, the first failure that Charles had at the Duke of York's was "The Christian," which had scored such an enormous success in America. But failure only spurred him on to further efforts. When an English friend condoled with him about his loss on this occasion he said:
"Forget it. Don't let's revive the past. Let's get busy and pulverize the future."
* * *
To the average mind the extent of Frohman's London productions is amazing. When the simple fact is stated that he made one hundred and twenty-five of these, one obtains at a glance the immense scope of the man's operations there. Many of them stand out brilliantly. Early among them was the Frohman-Belasco presentation of Mrs. Leslie Carter in two of her greatest successes at the Garrick Theater.
The first was "The Heart of Maryland." It was during this engagement that Charles bought the English rights to "Zaza," then a sensational success in Paris. It was his original intention to star Julia Marlowe in this play. When Belasco heard of the play he immediately saw it was an ideal vehicle for Mrs. Carter, and Frohman generously turned it over to him. After its great triumph in the United States, Frohman and Belasco produced "Zaza" in London.
It was a huge success and made the kind of sensation in which Frohman delighted. There was much question as to its propriety, so much so that the Lord Chamberlain himself, who supervised the censorship, came and witnessed the performance. He made no objection, however.
An amusing incident, which shows the extraordinary devotion of Charles Frohman's friends, occurred on the first night. While attending the rehearsals at the Garrick, Frohman caught cold and went to bed with a slight attack of pneumonia. On the inaugural night he lay bedridden. He was so eager for news of the play that he said to Dillingham:
"Send me all the news you can."
Dillingham organized a bicycle service, and every fifteen minutes sent encouraging and cheering bulletins to Frohman, who was so elated that he was able to emerge from bed the next morning a well man.
Now the interesting thing about this episode is that Dillingham fabricated most of the messages, because, until the end of the play and for several days thereafter, its success was very much in doubt. Indeed, it took more than a week for it to "catch on."
Charles followed up "Zaza" with a superb production of "Madame Butterfly," in which he used Belasco's beautiful equipment. This production put the artistic seal on Frohman's achievement as a London manager. Up to this time there were some who believed that, despite the lavishness of his policy, there was the germ of the commercial in him. "Madame Butterfly" removed this, but if there had been any doubt remaining, it would have been wiped out by his exquisite presentation of "The First Born." Associated with this play is a story that shows Frohman's dogged determination and resource.
Belasco had made the production of "The First Born" in America in lavish fashion. He brought to it all his love and knowledge of Chinese art.
[Illustration: _EDNA MAY_]
A rival manager, W. A. Brady, wishing to emulate the success of "The First Born," got together a production of "The Cat and the Cherub," another Chinese play, and secured time in London, hoping to beat Frohman out. It now became a race between Frohman and Brady for the first presentation in London. Both managers were in America. Brady got his production off first. When Frohman heard of it he said:
"We must be in London first."
"But there are no sailings for a week," said one of his staff.
"Then we will hire a boat," was his retort.
However, there proved to be no need for this enterprise, because a regular sailing developed.
"The Cat and the Cherub" won the race across the Atlantic and was produced first. It took the edge off the novelty of "The First Born," which was a failure, but its fine quality gave Charles the premier place as an artistic producer in England, and he never regretted having made the attempt despite the loss.
Frohman became immersed in a multitude of things. In September, 1901, for example, he was interested in five English playhouses--the Aldwych, the Shaftesbury, the Vaudeville, and the Criterion, as well as the Duke of York's. He had five different plays going at the same time--"Sherlock Holmes," "Are You a Mason?" "Bluebell in Fairyland," "The Twin Sister," and "The Girl from Maxim's." This situation was typical of his English
## activities from that time until his death.
* * *
The picturesqueness of detail which seemed to mark the beginning of so many of Charles Frohman's personal and professional friendships attended him in England, as the case of his first experience with Edna May shows.
One hot night late in the summer season of 1900 Frohman was having supper alone on his little private balcony at the Savoy Hotel overlooking the Thames. It was before the Strand wing of the hostelry had been built. As he sat there, clad only in pajamas and smoking a large black cigar, he heard a terrific din on the street below. There was cheering, shouting, and clapping of hands. Summoning a waiter, he asked:
"What's all that noise about?"
"Oh, it's only Miss Edna May coming to supper, sir."
"Why all this fuss?" continued Frohman.
"Well, you see, sir," answered the servant, "they are bringing her back in triumph."
When Frohman made investigation he found that the doctors and nurses at the Middlesex Hospital in London, where Edna May frequently sang for the patients, had engaged the whole gallery of the Shaftesbury Theater where she was singing in "The American Beauty," and attended in a body. After the play they had surrounded her at the stage entrance, unhitched the horse from her little brougham, and hauled her through the streets to the Savoy.
This episode made a tremendous impression on Frohman. He was always drawn to the people who could create a stir. He had heard that Edna May was nearing the end of her contract with George Lederer, so he entered into negotiations with her, and that autumn she passed under his management and remained so until she retired in 1907.
In the case of Edna May there could be no star-making. The spectacular rise of this charming girl from the chorus to the most-talked-of musical comedy role in the English-speaking world--that of the Salvation Army girl in "The Belle of New York"--had given her a great reputation. Frohman now capitalized that reputation in his usual elaborate fashion. He first presented Miss May in "The Girl from Up There."
She appeared under his management in various pieces, both in New York and in London. Her company in New York included Montgomery and Stone, Dan Daly, and Virginia Earle. When he presented Miss May at the Duke of York's in "The Girl from Up There" the result was the biggest business that the theater had known up to that time. In succession followed "Kitty Gray," which ran a year in London, "Three Little Maids," and "La Poupee."
All the while there was being written for Miss May a musical piece in which she was to achieve one of her greatest successes, and which was to bring Charles into contact with another one of his future stars. It was "The School Girl," which Frohman first did in May, 1903, in London, and afterward put on with great success at Daly's in New York.
In the English production of this play was a petite, red-haired little girl named Billie Burke, who sang a song called "Put Me in My Little Canoe," which became one of the hits of the play. Frohman was immensely attracted by this girl, and afterward took her under his patronage and she became one of his best-known stars.
Edna May, under Frohman's direction, was now perhaps the best known of the musical comedy stars in England and America. He took keen delight in her success. In "The Catch of the Season," which he did at Daly's in New York in August, 1905, she practically bade farewell to the American stage. Henceforth Frohman kept her in England. In "The Belle of Mayfair" she was succeeded by Miss Burke in the leading part. Frohman's production of "Nelly Neil" at the Aldwych Theater in 1907 was one of the most superb musical comedy presentations ever made. For this Frohman imported Joseph Coyne from America to do the leading juvenile role. He became such a great favorite that he has remained in England ever since.
Just as Edna May had bidden farewell to America in "The Catch of the Season," so she now bade farewell to the English stage in "Nelly Neil." She had become engaged to Oscar Lewisohn, who insisted on an early marriage. About this time Frohman and George Edwardes secured the English rights to "The Merry Widow." They both urged Miss May to postpone her marriage and appear in it. Miss May was now compelled to decide between matrimony and what would have been perhaps her greatest success, and she chose matrimony.
Her good-by appearance on the stage, May 1, 1907, was one of the most extraordinary events in the history of the English theater. This lovely, unassuming American girl had so completely endeared herself to the hearts of the London theater-goers that she was made the center of a tumultuous farewell. The day the seat-sale opened there was a queue several blocks long. During the opening performance Charles sat in his box alone. When some friends entered he was in tears. He had a genuine personal affection for Miss May, and her retirement touched him very deeply.
[Illustration: _BILLIE BURKE_]
In connection with "Nelly Neil" there is a little story which illustrates Charles's attitude toward his productions. He had spent a fortune on "Nelly Neil," and it was not a financial success. After giving it every chance he instructed Lestocq to put up the two weeks' notice. Lestocq remarked that it was a shame to end such a magnificent presentation. Whereupon Frohman turned around quickly and said:
"Shut up, or I'll run it another month. You know, Lestocq, if I don't keep a hand on myself sometimes my sentiment will be the ruin of me."
* * *
By this time Frohman and James M. Barrie had become close friends. The manager had produced "Quality Street" at the Vaudeville Theater with great success. He now approached a Barrie production which gave him perhaps more pleasure than anything he did in his whole stage life. The advent of "Peter Pan" was at hand. The remarkable story of how Charles got the manuscript of "Peter Pan" has already been told in this biography.
The original title that Barrie gave the play was "The Great White Father," which Frohman liked. Just as soon as Barrie suggested that it be named after its principal character, Frohman fairly overflowed with enthusiasm. In preparing for "Peter Pan" in England, Charles was like a child with a toy. Money was spent lavishly; whole scenes were made and never used. He regarded it as a great and rollicking adventure.
The first production of the Barrie masterpiece on any stage took place at the Duke of York's Theater, London, on December 27, 1904. Frohman was then in America. At his country place up at White Plains, only his close friend, Paul Potter, with him, he eagerly awaited the verdict. It was a bitterly cold night, and a snow-storm was raging. Frohman's secretary in the office in New York had arranged to telephone the news of the play's reception which Lestocq was expected to cable from London. On account of the storm the message was delayed.
Frohman was nervous. He kept on saying, "Will it never come?" His heart was bound up in the fortunes of this beloved fairy play. While he waited with Potter, Frohman acted out the whole play, getting down on all-fours to illustrate the dog and crocodile. He told it as _Wendy_ would have told it, for _Wendy_ was one of his favorites. Finally at midnight the telephone-bell rang. Potter took down the receiver. Frohman jumped up from his chair, saying, eagerly, "What's the verdict?" Potter listened a moment, then turned, and with beaming face repeated Lestocq's cablegram:
_Peter Pan all right. Looks like a big success._
This was one of the happiest nights in Frohman's life.
The first _Peter_ in England was Nina Boucicault, who played the part with great wistfulness and charm. She was the first of a quartet which included Cissy Loftus, Pauline Chase, and Madge Titheradge.
Charles so adored "Peter Pan" that he produced it in Paris, June 1, 1909, at the Vaudeville Theater, with an all-English cast headed by Pauline Chase. Robb Harwood was _Captain Hook_, and Sibyl Carlisle played _Mrs. Darling_. It was produced under the direction of Dion Boucicault. The first presentation was a great hit, and the play ran for five weeks. On the opening night Barrie and Frohman each had a box. Frohman was overjoyed at its success, and Barrie, naturally, could not repress his delight. What pleased them most was the spectacle of row after row of little French kiddies, who, while not understanding a word of the narrative, seemed to be having the time of their lives.
From the date of its first production until his death, "Peter Pan" became a fixed annual event in the English life of Charles Frohman. He revived it every year at holiday-time. No occasion in his calendar was more important than the annual appearance of the fascinating boy who had twined himself about the American manager's heart.
* * *
Charles was now a conspicuous and prominent figure in English theatrical life. The great were his friends and his opinion was much quoted. In addition to his sole control of the Duke of York's, he had interests in a dozen other playhouses. He liked the English way of doing business. Yet, despite what many people believed to be a strong pro-British tendency, he was always deeply and patriotically American, and he lost several fortunes in pioneering the American play and the American actor in England.
To name the American plays that he produced in London would be to give almost a complete catalogue of American drama revealed to English eyes. Curiously enough, at least two plays, "The Lion and the Mouse" and "Paid in Full," that had made enormous successes in America, failed utterly in England under his direction. He gave England such typically American dramas as "The Great Divide," "Brewster's Millions," "Alias Jimmy Valentine," "Years of Discretion," "A Woman's Way," "On the Quiet," and "The Dictator."
In addition to Gillette he presented Billie Burke in "Love Watches," William Collier in "The Dictator" and "On the Quiet," and Ethel Barrymore in "Cynthia."
With his presentation of Collier he did one of his characteristic strokes of enterprise. Marie Tempest was playing at the Comedy in London. He had always been anxious to try Collier's unctuous American humor on the British, so the American comedian swapped engagements with Miss Tempest. She came over to the Criterion in New York to do "The Freedom of Suzanne," while Collier took her time at the Comedy in "The Dictator." He scored a great success and remained nearly a year.
* * *
The time was now ripe for the most brilliant of all the Charles Frohman achievements in England. Had he done nothing else than the Repertory Theater he would have left for himself an imperishable monument of artistic endeavor. The extraordinary feature of this undertaking was that it was left for an American to finance and promote in the very cradle of the British drama the highest and finest attempt yet made to encourage that drama. The Repertory Theater would have proclaimed any manager the open-handed patron of drama for drama's sake.
The National or Repertory Theater idea, which was the antidote for the long run, the agency for the production of plays that had no sustained box-office virtue, which took the speculative feature out of production, had been preached in England for some time. Granville Barker had tried it at the Court Theater, where the Shaw plays had been produced originally. The movement lagged; it needed energy and money.
Barrie had been a disciple of the Repertory Theater from the start. He knew that there was only one man in the world who could make the attempt in the right way. One day in 1909 he said to Frohman:
"Why don't you establish a Repertory Theater?"
Then he explained in a few words what he had in mind.
Without a moment's hesitation Frohman said, briskly:
"All right, I'll do it."
With these few words he committed himself to an enterprise that cost him a fortune. But it was an enterprise that revealed, perhaps as nothing in his career had revealed, the depths of his artistic nature.
With his marvelous grasp of things, Frohman swiftly got at the heart of the Repertory proposition. When he launched the enterprise at the Duke of York's he said:
_Repertory companies are usually associated in the public mind with the revival of old masterpieces, but if you want to know the character of my repertory project at the Duke of York's, I should describe it as the production of new plays by living authors. Whatever it accomplishes, it will represent the combined resources of actor and playwright working with each other, a combination that seems to me to represent the most necessary foundation of any theatrical success._
Frohman stopped at nothing in carrying out the Repertory Theater idea. He engaged Granville Barker to produce most of the plays. Barker in turn surrounded himself with a superb group of players. The most brilliant of the stage scenic artists in England, headed by Norman Wilkinson, were engaged to design the scenes. Every possible detail that money could buy was lavished on this project.
The result was a series of plays that set a new mark for English production, that put stimulus behind the so-called "unappreciated" play, and gave the English-speaking drama something to talk about--and to remember. The mere unadorned list of the plays produced is impressive. They were "Justice," by John Galsworthy; "Misalliance," by Bernard Shaw; "Old Friends" and the "The Twelve-Pound Look," by James M. Barrie; "The Sentimentalists," by George Meredith; "Madras House," by Granville Barker; "Chains," by Elizabeth Baker; "Prunella," by Lawrence Housman and Granville Barker; "Helena's Path," by Anthony Hope and Cosmo Gordon Lenox, and a revival of "Trelawney of the Wells," by Sir Arthur Pinero.