Part 9

In 1889 came the separation between Randall and Frohman. Randall set up an establishment of his own at 1145 Broadway, while Charles, who was now an accredited and established personage in the theatrical world, took a suite at 1127 Broadway, adjoining the old St. James Hotel. In making this change he reached a crucial point in his career, for in these offices he conceived and put into execution the spectacular enterprises that linked his name for the first time with brilliant success.

VI

"SHENANDOAH" AND THE FIRST STOCK COMPANY

With his installation in the new offices at 1127 Broadway there began an important epoch in the life of Charles Frohman. The Nemesis which had seemed to pursue his productions now took flight. The plump little man, not yet thirty, who had already lived a lifetime of strenuous and varied endeavor, sat at a desk in a big room on the second floor, dreaming and planning great things that were soon to be realized.

Although staggering under a burden of debt that would have discouraged most people, Frohman, with his optimistic philosophy, felt that the hour had come at last when the tide would turn. And it did. At this time his financial complications were at their worst. Some of them dated back to the disastrous Wallack Company tour; others resulted from his impulsive generosity in indorsing his friends' notes. He was so involved that he could not do business under his own name, and for a period the firm went on as Al Hayman & Company.

[Illustration: _WILLIAM GILLETTE_]

One of the very first enterprises in the new offices cemented the friendship of Charles Frohman and William Gillette. While at the Madison Square Theater he had booked Gillette's plays, "The Professor" and "The Private Secretary." Frohman, with Al Hayman as partner, induced Gillette to make a dramatization of Rider Haggard's "She," which was put on at Niblo's Garden in New York with considerable success. Wilton Lackaye and Loie Fuller were in the cast.

Gillette now tried his hand at a war play called "Held by the Enemy," which Frohman booked on the road. Frohman was strangely interested in "Held by the Enemy." It had all the thrill and tumult of war and it lent itself to more or less spectacular production. When the road tour ended, Frohman, on his own hook, took the piece and the company, which was headed by Gillette, for an engagement at the Baldwin Theater in San Francisco. He transported all the original scenery, which included, among other things, some massive wooden cannon.

The San Francisco critics, however, slated the piece unmercifully. The morning after the opening Gillette stood in the lobby of the Palace Hotel with the newspapers in his hand and feeling very disconsolate. Up bustled Frohman in his usual cheery fashion.

"Look what the critics have done to us," said Gillette, gloomily.

"But we've got all the best of it," replied Frohman, with animation.

"How's that?" asked Gillette, somewhat puzzled.

"_They've_ got to stay here."

This little episode shows the buoyant way in which Frohman always met misfortune. His irresistible humor was the oil that he invariably spread upon the troubled waters of discord and discouragement.

It was while selecting one of the casts of "Held by the Enemy," which was revived many times, that Charles Frohman made two more life-long connections.

At the same boarding-house with Julius Cahn lived an ambitious young man who had had some experience as an actor. He was out of a position, so Cahn said to him one day:

"Come over to our offices and Charles Frohman will give you a job."

The young man came over, and Cahn introduced him to Frohman. Soon he came out, apparently very indignant. When Cahn asked him what was the matter he said:

"That man Frohman offered me the part of a nigger, _Uncle Rufus_, in that play. I was born in the South, and I will not play a nigger. I would rather starve."

Cahn said, "You will play it, and your salary will be forty dollars a week."

The young man reluctantly accepted the engagement and proved to be not only a satisfactory actor, but a man gifted with a marvelous instinct as stage-director. His name was Joseph Humphreys, and he became in a few years the general stage-director for Charles Frohman, the most distinguished position of its kind in the country, which he held until his death.

About this time Charles Frohman renewed his acquaintance with Augustus Thomas. Thomas walked into the office one day and Rockwood said to him:

"You are the very man we want to play in 'Held by the Enemy.'"

Thomas immediately went in to see Frohman, who offered him the position of _General Stamburg_, but Thomas had an engagement in his own play, "The Burglar," which was the expanded "Editha's Burglar," and could not accept. Before he left, however, Frohman, whose mind was always full of projects for the future, renewed the offer made in New Orleans, for he said:

"Thomas, I still want you to write that play for me."

* * *

With "Held by the Enemy" Charles Frohman seemed to have found a magic touchstone. It was both patriotic and profitable, for it was nothing less than the American flag. Having raised it in one production, he now turned to the enterprise which unfurled his success to the winds in brilliant and stirring fashion.

Early in 1889 R. M. Field put on a new military play called "Shenandoah," by Bronson Howard, at the Boston Museum. Howard was then the most important writer in the dramatic profession. He had three big successes, "Young Mrs. Winthrop," "Saratoga," and "The Banker's Daughter," to his credit, and he had put an immense amount of work and hope into the stirring military drama that was to have such an important bearing on the career of Charles Frohman. The story of Frohman's connection with this play is one of the most picturesque and romantic in the whole history of modern theatrical successes. He found it a Cinderella of the stage; he proved to be its Prince Charming.

Oddly enough, "Shenandoah" was a failure in Boston. Three eminent managers, A. M. Palmer, T. Henry French, and Henry E. Abbey, in succession had had options on the play, and they were a unit in believing that it would not go.

Daniel Frohman had seen the piece at Boston with a view to considering it for the Lyceum. He told his brother Charles of the play, and advised him to go up and see it, adding that it was too big and melodramatic for the somewhat intimate scope of the small Lyceum stage.

So Charles went to Boston. On the day of the night on which he started he met Joseph Brooks on Broadway and told him he was going to Boston to try to get "Shenandoah."

"Why, Charley, you are crazy! It is a failure! Why throw away your money on it? Nobody wants it."

"I may be crazy," replied Frohman, "but I am going to try my best to get 'Shenandoah.'"

Before going to Boston he arranged with Al Hayman to take a half-interest in the play. When he reached Boston he went out to the house of Isaac B. Rich, who was then associated with William Harris in the conduct of the Howard Athenaeum and the Hollis Street Theater. Rich was a character in his way. He had been a printer in Bangor, Maine, had sold tickets in a New Orleans theater, and had already amassed a fortune in his Boston enterprises. He was an ardent spiritualist, and financed and gave much time to a spiritualistic publication of Boston called _The Banner of Light_. One of his theatrical associates at that time, John Stetson, owned _The Police Gazette_.

Rich conceived a great admiration for Frohman, whom he had met with Harris in booking plays for his Boston houses. He always maintained that Frohman was the counterpart of Napoleon, and called him Napoleon.

On this memorable day in Boston Frohman dined with Rich at his house and took him to see "Shenandoah." When it was over Frohman asked him what he thought of it.

"I'll take any part of it that you say," replied Rich.

"If I were alone," answered Frohman, "I would take you in, but I have already given Al Hayman half of it."

Frohman was very much impressed with "Shenandoah," although he did not believe the play was yet in shape for success. After the performance he asked Mr. Field if he could get the rights. Field replied:

"Abbey, French, and Palmer have options on it. If they don't want it you can have it."

Frohman returned to New York the next day, and even before he had seen Bronson Howard he looked up his friend Charles Burnham, then manager of the Star Theater, and asked him to save him some time.

Frohman now went to see Howard, who then lived at Stamford. He expressed his great desire for the play and then went on to say:

"You are a very great dramatist, Mr. Howard, and I am only a theatrical manager, but I think I can see where a possible improvement might be made in the play. For one thing, I think two acts should be merged into one, and I don't think you have made enough out of Sheridan's ride."

When he had finished, Howard spoke up warmly and said, "Mr. Frohman, you are right, and I shall be very glad to adopt your suggestions."

The very changes that Howard made in the play were the ones that helped to make it a great success, as he was afterward frank enough to admit.

Frohman now made a contract for the play and went to Burnham to book time. Burnham, meanwhile, had been to Boston to see the play, and he said:

"I saved six weeks for you at the Star for Shenandoah.'"

From the very beginning of his association with "Shenandoah" Charles Frohman had an instinct that the play would be a success. He now dedicated himself to its production with characteristic energy.

Scarcely had he signed the contract for "Shenandoah" than occurred one of the many curious pranks of fate that were associated with this enterprise. Al Hayman, who had a half-interest in the piece, was stricken with typhoid fever in Chicago on his way to the coast. He thought he was going to die, and, not having an extraordinary amount of confidence in "Shenandoah," he sold half of his half-interest to R. M. Hooley, who owned theaters bearing his name in Chicago and Brooklyn.

With his usual determination to do things in splendid fashion, Frohman engaged a magnificent cast. Now came one of the many evidences of the integrity of his word. Years before, when he had first seen Henry Miller

## act in San Francisco he said to him:

"When I get a theater in New York and have a big Broadway production you will be my leading man."

He had not yet acquired the theater, but he did have the big Broadway production, so the first male character that he filled was that of _Colonel West_, and he did it with Miller.

This cast included not less than half a dozen people who were then making their way toward future stardom. He engaged Wilton Lackaye to play _General Haverill_; Viola Allen played _Gertrude Ellingham_; Nanette Comstock was the original _Madeline West_; Effie Shannon portrayed _Jennie Buckthorn_; while Dorothy Dorr played _Mrs. Haverill_. Other actors in the company who later became widely known were John E. Kellard, Harry Harwood, Morton Selten, and Harry Thorn.

Charles determined that the public should not lose sight of "Shenandoah." All his genius for publicity was concentrated to this end. Among the ingenious agencies that he created for arousing suspense and interest was a rumor that the manuscript of the third act had been lost. He put forth the news that Mr. Howard's copy was mislaid, and a city-wide search was instituted. All the while that the company was rehearsing the other acts the anxiety about the missing act grew. A week before the production Frohman announced, with great effect, that the missing manuscript had been found.

When the doors of the Star Theater were opened on the evening of September 9, 1889, for the first performance of "Shenandoah," the outlook was not very auspicious. Rain poured in torrents. It was almost impossible to get a cab. Al Hayman, one of the owners of the play, who lived at the Hotel Majestic, on West Seventy-second Street, was rainbound and could not even see the _premiere_ of the piece.

However, a good audience swam through the deluge, for the gross receipts of this opening night, despite the inclement conditions outside, were nine hundred and seventy-two dollars. This was considered a very good house at the standard prices of the day, which ranged from twenty-five cents to one dollar and a half.

The play was an immense success, for at no time during the rest of the engagement did the receipts at any performance go below one thousand dollars. The average gross receipts for each week were ten thousand dollars.

Charles Frohman watched the _premiere_ from the rear of the house with a beating heart. The crash of applause after the first act made him feel that he had scored at last. After the sensational ending of the third act, which was Sheridan's famous ride, he rushed back to the stage, shook Henry Miller warmly by the hand, and said: "Henry, we've got it. The horse is yours!"

He meant the horse that the general rode in the play.

This horse, by the way, was named Black Bess. It got so accustomed to its cue that it knew when it had to gallop across the stage. One night during the third act this cue was given as usual. Its rider, however, was not ready, and the horse galloped riderless across the stage.

"Shenandoah" led to a picturesque friendship in Charles Frohman's life. On the opening night a grizzled, military-looking man sat in the audience. He watched the play with intense interest and applauded vigorously. On the way out he met a friend in the lobby. He stopped him and said, "This is the most interesting war play I have ever seen."

The friend knew Charles Frohman, who was standing with smiling face watching the crowd go out. He called the little manager over and said: "Mr. Frohman, I want you to meet a man who really knows something about the Civil War. This is General William T. Sherman."

Sherman and Frohman became great friends, and throughout the engagement of "Shenandoah" the old soldier was a frequent visitor at the theater. He then lived at the Fifth Avenue Hotel, and often he brought over his war-time comrades.

Not only did "Shenandoah" mark the epoch of the first real success in Frohman's life, but it raised his whole standard of living, as the following incident will show.

When "Shenandoah" opened, Frohman and Henry Miller, and sometimes other members of the company, went around to O'Neil's on Sixth Avenue, scene of the old foregatherings with Belasco, and had supper. As the piece grew in prosperity and success, the supper party gradually moved up-town to more expensive restaurants, until finally they were supping at Delmonico's. "We are going up in the world," said Frohman, with his usual humor. At their first suppers they smoked ten-cent cigars; now they regaled themselves with twenty-five-cent Perfectos.

Unfortunately the successful run of "Shenandoah" at the Star had to be terminated on October 12th because the Jefferson & Florence Company, which had a previous contract with the theater and could not be disposed of elsewhere, came to play their annual engagement in "The Rivals." Frohman transferred the play to Proctor's Twenty-third Street Theater, which was from this time on to figure extensively in his fortunes, and the successful run of the play continued there. Wilton Lackaye retired from the cast and was succeeded by Frank Burbeck, whose wife, Nanette Comstock, succeeded Miss Shannon in the role of _Jenny Buckthorn_.

Frohman was now able to capitalize his brilliant road-company experience. The success of the play now assured, he immediately organized a road company, in which appeared such prominent actors as Joseph Holland, Frank Carlyle, and Percy Haswell. He established an innovation on October 26th by having this company come over from Philadelphia, where it was playing, to act in the New York house.

The two-hundred-and-fiftieth performance occurred on April 19, 1890, when the run ended. It was a memorable night. Katherine Grey and Odette Tyler meanwhile had joined the company. The theater was draped in flags, and General Sherman made a speech in which he praised the accuracy of the production.

With his usual enterprise and resource, Charles Frohman introduced a distinct novelty on this occasion. He had double and triple relays of characters for the farewell performance. Both Lilla Vane and Odette Tyler, for example, acted the part of _Gertrude Ellingham_; Wilton Lackaye, Frank Burbeck, and George Osborne played _General Haverill_; Alice Haines and Nanette Comstock did _Jenny Buckthorn_; while Morton Selten and R. A. Roberts doubled as _Captain Heartsease_.

Frohman now put the original "Shenandoah" company on the road. Its first engagement was at McVicker's Theater in Chicago. Frohman went along and took Bronson Howard with him.

Most of the Chicago critics liked "Shenandoah." But there was one exception, a brilliant Irishman on _The Tribune_. Paul Potter, whose play, "The City Directory," was about to be produced in Chicago, was a close friend of Howard. He wanted to do something for the Howard play, so he got permission from Robert W. Patterson, editor in chief of _The Tribune_, to write a Sunday page article about "Shenandoah." Frohman was immensely pleased, and through this he met Potter, who became one of his intimates.

Then came the opening of Potter's play at the Chicago Opera House. Although Potter knew most of the critics, there was a feeling that they would forget all friendship and do their worst. Five minutes after the curtain went up the piece seemed doomed.

But an extraordinary thing happened. From a stage box suddenly came sounds of uncontrollable mirth. The audience, and especially the critics, looked to see who was enjoying the play so strenuously, and they beheld Charles Frohman and Bronson Howard. The critics were puzzled. Here was a great playwright in the flush of an enormous success and a rising young manager evidently enjoying the performance. The mentors of public taste were so impressed that they praised the farce and started "The City Directory" on a career of remarkable success. Frohman and Howard were repaying the good turn that Potter had done for "Shenandoah."

* * *

Charles Frohman now had a money-making success. "Shenandoah" was the dramatic talk of the whole country; it did big business everywhere, and its courageous young producer came in for praise and congratulation on all sides.

The manager might well have netted what was in those days a huge fortune out of this enterprise, but his unswerving sense of honor led him to immediately discharge all his obligations. He wiped out the Wallack's tour debts, and he eventually took up notes aggregating forty-two thousand dollars that he had given to a well-known Chicago printer who had befriended him in years gone by. What was most important, he was now free to unfurl his name to the breezes and to do business "on his own."

* * *

Charles immediately launched himself on another sea of productions. The most important was Gillette's "All the Comforts of Home," which he put on at Proctor's Twenty-third Street Theater. Frohman had just acquired the lease of this theater. Already a big idea was simmering in his mind, and the leasehold was essential to its consummation. On May 8, 1890, he produced the new Gillette play, which scored a success.

This production marked another one of the many significant epochs in Frohman's life because it witnessed the first appearance of little Maude Adams under the Charles Frohman management.

Frohman had seen Miss Adams in "The Paymaster" down at Niblo's and had been much taken with her work. He had been unable, however, to find a part for her, so it was reserved for his brother Daniel to give her the first Frohman engagement at thirty-five dollars a week in "Lord Chumley." Subsequently Daniel released her so that she could appear in the same cast with her mother in Hoyt's "The Midnight Bell."

While trying "All the Comforts of Home" on the road there occurred an amusing episode. Frohman, who had been watching the rehearsals very carefully, said to Henry Miller, who was leading man:

"Henry, you are something of a matinee idol. I think it would help the play if you had a love scene with Miss Adams."

Accompanied by Rockwood, Frohman visited Gillette at his home at Hartford, got him to write the love scene, and then went on to Springfield, Massachusetts, for the "try-out."

That night the three assembled in the bleak drawing-room of the hotel. Frohman ordered a little supper of ham sandwiches and sarsaparilla, after which he rehearsed the love scene, which simply consisted of a tender little parting in a doorway. It served to bring out the wistful and appealing tenderness that is one of Maude Adams's great qualities.

"All the Comforts of Home" ran in Proctor's Theater until October 18th. When the theater reopened it disclosed a venture that linked the name of Charles Frohman with high and artistic effort--his first stock company. With this organization he hoped to maintain the traditions established by Augustin Daly, A. M. Palmer, Lester Wallack, and the Madison Square Company.

He projected the Charles Frohman Stock Company in his usual lavish way. He engaged De Mille and Belasco to write the opening play. This was a very natural procedure: first, because of his intimate friendship with Belasco, and, second, because De Mille and Belasco had proved their skill as collaborators at Daniel Frohman's Lyceum Theater with such successes as "The Wife," "The Charity Ball," and "Lord Chumley." The result of their new endeavors was "Men and Women."

In this play the authors wrote in the part _Dora_ especially for Maude Adams. They also created a role for Mrs. Annie Adams.

The cast of "Men and Women," like that of "Shenandoah," was a striking one, and it contained many names already established, or destined to figure prominently in theatrical history. Henry Miller had been engaged for leading man, but he retired during the rehearsals, and his place was taken by William Morris, who had appeared in the Charles Frohman production of "She" and in the road company of "Held by the Enemy." In the company that Frohman selected were Frederick de Belleville, who played _Israel Cohen_, one of the finest, if not the finest, Jewish characters ever put on the stage; Orrin Johnson; Frank Mordaunt; Emmet Corrigan; J. C. Buckstone; and C. Leslie Allen, brother of Viola Allen.

In addition to Maude Adams were Sydney Armstrong, who was the leading woman; Odette Tyler; and Etta Hawkins, who became the wife of William Morris during this engagement.

At the dress rehearsal of "Men and Women" occurred a characteristic Charles Frohman incident. When the curtain had gone down Frohman hurried back to William Morris's dressing-room and said, "Will, that dress-suit of yours doesn't look right."

"It's a brand-new suit, 'C. F.,'" he replied.

Frohman thought a moment and said: "Can you be at my office to-morrow morning at eight o'clock? I've got a good tailor."

Promptly at eight the next day they went over to Frohman's tailor, whom Frohman addressed as follows:

"I want you to make a dress-suit for William Morris by eight o'clock to-morrow night."

"Impossible!" said the man.