AND THEIR HOMES The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924075696322 CORNELL UNIVESSnV LIBBARV 3 1924 075 696 322 Famous Actors and Their Homes 'hotogi-aph ay Hicti:d Famous yictors And Their Homes By Gustav Kobbe Author of "Signora, a Child of the Opera-House' "Opera Singers," etc. With Numerous Illustrations from Photographs Boston Little, Brown, and Company 1905 Copyright, rgoj. By The Curtis Publishing Co. Copyright, igoj, 1905, By Little, Brown, and Company. All rights reser'ved THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, u. S. a. To EDWARD BOK Contents Page John Drew 1 William GiLLETfE 33 Richard Mansfield 71 E. H. SOTHERN AND HIS WiFE, ViRGINIA HaRNED 109 Francis Wilson 151 "The Lambs" 179 "The Players" 203 [vii] Illustrations Richard Mansfield Frontispiece Page On the Piazza^ Easthampton 7 John Drew in his Libraiy 12 John Drew and his Daughter ready for a Ride . . 19 John Drew, his Daughter, and their Pets .... 22 John Drew in his Study 25 John Drew 29 The Gillette Homestead, Hartford 37 William Gillette 41 The " Den " at the Homestead 47 Deck View of the ^Mn< Po/Zj/ 51 The Salon on the Aunt Polly 59 The Engine built by Gillette when a Boy .... 63 William Gillette's Houseboat, the Aunt Polly ... 68 Richard Mansfield and his Wife and Son .... 77 Teaching Georgie to Ride 81 A Quiet Cup of Tea 91 Richard Mansfield and his Wife in their New London Garden 97 A Favorite Spot on a Summer Day 103 [ix] ILLUSTRATIONS Page E. H. Sothern in his Library 115 E. H. Sothern and his Fox Terrier 122 Mrs. E. H. Sothern (Virginia Harned) 131 Starting for a Walk 139 E. H. Sothern and his Wife in the Main Hall of their Home 145 Francis Wilson at Home 155 Francis Wilson in his Library 159 Francis Wilson at Home l67 A Quiet Game with his Daughter 173 Harry Montague 181 Reading Room of "The Lambs" 185 The Dutch Grill of " The Lambs " 189 Lester Wallack . . 195 "The Lambs'" Assembly Room 199 Edwin Booth 205 Second Floor Hall of " The Players " 209 Joseph Jefferson 213 Reading Room of "The Players" 217 Grill Room of " The Players " 220 [xj FAMOUS JCrORS & rHEIR HOMES JOHN DREW [ORE than any other actor on the American stage, John Drew occupies what gener- ally is understood under the term " a social position." He "moves in society" — whenever he has time to — and is welcome there. One of the most frequently quoted passages from Emerson is that in which he tells of the Boston woman who said that the sense of being well dressed gave her a feeling of deeper tranquillity even than religion. Somewhat sim- ilar is an exclamation I once heard from a New York woman : " What would we do without the Bible and the ' Social Register ' ? " The " So- cial Register " is a book in which is given a hst [3] FAMOUS ACTORS of New York society people. It is impossible to buy one's way into it. There are million- aires' wives who for years have been gnashing their teeth because they do not see their names in print in it. Now if John Drew had a fixed residence in Ncav York, his acknowledged so- cial position undoubtedly would entitle him to a place in what aptly has been called the " Society Bible." Drew is what is known as a " society actor ; " and his personal knowledge of society and its ways has aided him greatly in acting and " dressing " society roles. Just as women look up to certain actresses as models in the art of costuming themselves, and copy or try to copy them in their own attire, so to a host of men Drew is a glass of fashion and a mould of form, — though men do not set so much store by these things as women. However, a conversation I overheard between two " swell " youths shows that they are not wholly indif- [4 ] <§ THEIR HOMES ferent to matters of this kind. They were talking about theatricals. " Have you been to see John Drew ? " asked one of them. " No. Why ? " " He wears the longest tails to his dress coat that have ever been seen here." " Then they must be the latest ' swagger ' thing out. I '11 go to see them to-night." I do not consider Mr. Drew's social position a matter of such importance that it need be cried from the housetops. But it is interest- ing in his case because, while most people hunt for it and harp on it when they 've attained to it, his real pride lies in his profession. Never has he turned his back on that or on its mem- bers. Never has he, for the sake of social connections, given up his friends in his own calling. That he has been entertained by So-and-So in Newport or had this and that or the other socially well-known person at his [5 ] FAMOUS ACTORS daughter's " coming out " reception, does not mean nearly as much to him as the fact that he represents the third generation of Drews on the stage and his daughter the fourth. For after Miss Louise had been presented to so- ciety in due form, she followed the traditions of the family and went on the stage, becom- ing a member of her father's company. Miss Ethel Barrymore, who also is a great social pet, is another representative of the latest gen- eration of Drews on the stage. She has Drew blood in her ^'eins, her mother, the charm- ing comedienne, Georgie Drew Barrymore, having been John Drew's sister. Thus Louise Drew and Ethel Barrymore are first cousins. Another clever young actress, JVIiss Mendum, also is Mr. Drew's niece. It is his devotion to his profession which, together with his agreeable personality, makes John Drew one of its most popular members within its own circle. People hear a good [6] <§ THEIR HOMES deal about the high-toned Players' Club ; but the real typical actors' club is The Lambs'. Xo one is better liked there than Drew. He has held various offices and has been the " Little Boy Blue " and even the " Shepherd," the highest officer among The Lambs. Drew is various in his make-up. He is a society man and at the same time a man of domestic tastes, — yet withal has a dash of Bohemianism in his blood that has kept him just within right touch of his own profession on and off the stage. It is pleasant to see a man imspoilt by prosper- ity and flattery, retaining the respect and affec- tion of his own. He has not only the " Drew blood," but also the Drew esprit de corps. That is one reason he was so much pleased when his daughter decided of her own volition to go on the stage. For with every prospect of the lively and supposedly enjoyable life which a properly introduced girl can lead in New York society, the stage was her deliber- [9 ] FAMOUS ACTORS ate choice. " She is going to play with me when I go out ' on the road,' " said Mr. Drew to me in speaking of her. " She will be the fourth generation of Drews on the stage, which is very nice. A friend of mine, an architect, has a son who wants to go down to Pierpont Morgan's office and become rich soon, and my friend does n't like it. He wants his son to become an architect, like himself. But you cannot compel a man to foUow a calling which he does not like. The stage, however, seems to have a certain hereditary fascination, — rather more so than any other profession, I should say." Although John Drew is an actor, he has been singularly fortunate in having been able to gratify his taste for domesticity because his long connection with the late Augustin Daly's company kept him much in New York and enabled him to have a home there. Mrs. Drew was a Miss Josephine Baker. One of [ 10 ] <§ THEIR HOMES her grandfathers was Mayor of Philadelphia. Her immediate antecedents, however, were theatrical. Her parents were on the stage ; she herself was an actress, and a clever one, in r6les like Moya in " The Shaughran," when she married John Drew. Her brother, Lewis Baker, is a member of her husband's company. When Miss Baker became Mrs. John Drew, or soon afterwards, she left the stage. For a considerable time while Mr. Drew was able to lead a " fixed life " in New York, they occu- pied an apartment in Fifty-fifth Street. It was small, but they made it very artistic, attrac- tive, and comfortable. Its furnishing was quiet and refined, — of the good old-fashioned kind. " Cozy," a word so often misused, applied to it with more than the usual degree of actuahty. There they lived with their daughter, then a mere child, who went, as she still does, with her parents and among her intimate friends, by the nickname "Bee." If it is asked [11 ] F A U O IT S A C T O R S liow the name " Iconise " ever was con\erted into " Bee," the answer is that " Bee " is a contrac- tion of tlie F r e n c li " B e b e, " ' / I'l II I I / ion John Draiv in his Lihrary our "Baby. " An only child, no matter how old she grows, always is apt to remain the " Baby " of the family aiid of her own and the fam- ily friends. But that the Drews derived [ 12 ] &, THEIR HOMES their pet name for their daughter from the French has a certain significance, because French is a language almost as familiar in the Drew family circle as English. Mr. Drew is a very good French scholar. He not only reads French, but speaks it with ease. I remember one evening, during his engagement at Wallack's in " One Sum- mer's Day," hearing him carry on a conver- sation in that language with a member of a weU-known New York French- American family who had called on him in his dressing- room. When during the last Coquelin-Bern- hardt tour in this country Mr. Drew gave a dinner to CoqueHn the host conversed as flu- ently in the guest's native tongue as the guest himself It was Monsieur Drew entertaining Monsieur Coquehn. Mr. Drew acquired this accomplishment without a university education. He was not prepared for a university course. "Mother," [ 13 ] FAMOUS ACTORS he said in speaking of this, " did not think a university course stood much for individual development. I do not know that it would have assisted me in playing ' The Second in Command,' for instance. Perhaps there is something in the feeling of being a ' university man.' Yet we know of many dunces who come out of universities." His most advanced regular schooling was at the Protestant Epis- copal Academy in Philadelphia, and after that he took on some tutors and that sort of thing. He learned languages, got some taste of general literature, and even studied Socrates, but he^ went on the stage when he was nineteen. During the years the Drews were regularly settled in New York they led a very agreeable life there. While Mr. Drew's professional work prevented him from entertaining much at the hours customary for social entertain- ments, he always made a point of having sup- per after the play in his own home, instead of [ 14 ] &, THEIR HOMES at any one of the restaurants frequented by fashionable theatre parties, and often he brought home one or two intimate personal friends with him. They were very pleasant little supper parties, informal but served in perfect taste. Mr. Drew is a good talker. He has ideas and a clever way of expressing them. The meal and the " talk " afterwards generally were the substance and the sum of these suppers. Cards ? No. Mr. Drew never learned to play thern. Memorizing a role is easy for him. He is what is known in the profession as a " quick study." He remembers quotations and generally can place them ; and things he read many years ago, if he read them carefully, he still retains. In fact, he is retentive at any- thing but cards. Thus he knows the rules of whist, but cannot remember how the suits fall as they are played. Nevertheless these supper sessions were not brief For there is some [15 ] FAMOUS ACTORS of the night owl in Drew ; but he knows how to rest too. During the daytime, for instance, he cares httle for entertaining or being enter- tained. Once some one said to him, " I sup- pose you never get to bed much before twelve o'clock." (This was putting it very mildly.) " No," answered Drew, with just a suspicion of sarcasm in the tone of his voice, " but on the other hand I don't get up much before half-past six." About the only day the Drews had for dining out was Sunday. On other days Mr. Drew's professional engagements forbade that. They had frequent invitations during the week which for this reason they were obliged to decline. But Sunday dinner found them either hosts in their apartments or guests at some well-known house. Possibly it is not amiss to state that among the well-known New York families with whom the Drews are intimate are the Hewitts and the Brockholst [ 16 ] rew and his Daughter ready for a Ride <| THEIR HOMES they had her placed at an excellent private school and then at a convent in Philadelphia. When Mr. Drew was obliged to go abroad with the Daly Company, she went with her parents and they utilized the opportunity to place her at a convent school in Boulogne. She quickly became proficient in French and won a prize for an article in the convent paper. In order to give double pleasure to her parents, she told them nothing about it until she sur- prised them with the prize itself. Since his appearance as a star, Mr. Drew's domestic life has been more or less broken up, although with every opportunity that has presented itself he has clung to it as tena- ciously as possible ; at the same time not aUovnng his having become somewhat of a rover to interfere in the least with the careful education of his daughter. She was sent to the noted " finishing school " of the Marquise San Carlos de Pedroso in Paris, a very high- [21 ] F A M O IT S ACT () R S class school, to wliich many tine t'aiuilics of various coniitries send their daiioiitei's, and where Miss Dre'wniade many charming friends. Having perfected herself in French at the l)e Pedroso school, she was placed for nearly a year in Dresden, w h e r e s h e studied Gcv- manandnnisic. AV he n she returned to New York in time for the season of 1899- 1900, ]Mr. Drews popularity as a star had en- abled him to prolong his seasons in the city ; and he had rented a furnished house in West Twenty-first Street. Here the Drews began entertainhig again, their social circle growing [ 22 ] Cojijiruiht. 19u:\ 1,1/ J. Biiron Juliii Z>rew, his IJaiKjlitir, miil thi-ir I'pfs (| THEIK HOMES wider. One guest of their former New York home was, however, missed here. For Mr. Drew's distinguished mother, the elder Mrs. John Drew, who always had been made wel- come at the Fifty-fifth Street apartment and was a not infrequent guest there, had since died. It was at the Twenty-first Street house Miss " Bee " was introduced to society at a tea given in her honor. Shortly afterwards she made a tentative appearance on the stage. Her father was playing Richard Carvel, and she took her debut as the pretty Maryland girl, Betty Taylor. It was not, however, until the following season that she regularly went on the stage, joining her father's com- pany when it left New York, and in the role of Nora Vining in " The Second in Com- mand." Mrs. Drew also travels with her husband and daughter, so that, although "on the road," the family keeps together. In fact, with Mr. and Mrs. Drew, Miss Drew and [ 23 j FAMOUS ACTORS Mrs. Drew's brother, there is quite a family party. For a man of fifty Mr. Drew is very young- looking, not only on the stage, where disguise is possible, but also off it in the garish and tattle-tale light of day. He is quick, mobile, and agile, — in fact, still so very much of the young man that there would be no occasion for the professional fib about age, even if he cared to take refuge behind it. The public makes little inquiry into a stage favorite's age until it becomes noticeable, and, like the famous Roman who would rather people ex- pressed surprise that no statues were erected in his honor than because there were, it is better for an actor to have the public marvel that one of his age should look so young than that one so young should look so old. Mr. Drew is not a strong man in the pro- fessional sense in which the term " strong man " now is employed. He does not lift [24 ] c| THEIR HOMES tables with his teeth nor balance grand pianos on his toes. His tables are put to the usual domestic uses, and his piano is there for his daughter to play. But he is a man of fine Copyright, 1902, by J. Byron John Drew in his Study physique and always has kept himself in good condition. He tells me he does not do this because of the strain imposed by modem theatrical conditions, — the two matinees a [25 1 FAMOUS ACTORS week and the insistence of the pubUe of to-day that an actor, no matter how popular, always shall be at the top notch, so that he always must key himself to give out the best that is in him, — but because he is fond of it. On this point he said playfully, " If I had to exercise to keep myself in condition I would shirk it. But I am fond of it, and I keep in pretty good shape anyhow. The con- dition of the stage is such that the men and women on it must keep in good physical trim to stand the strain. But I do not think they have such a hard time of it." When he is in New York, besides riding in Central Park, he goes to the Racket Club, where he plays court tennis. This is a rattling good game and a hard game, as any one not in good condition who tries it soon finds out. But it is one of Mr. Drew's favorite forms of exercise in winter, when there is not much doing outdoors, and he is accounted a hard [26 ] (| THEIR HOMES man to beat. He is a capital fencer, and when the club had a fencing master often played with the foils. Summer is his time out-of-doors. He is in the open air as much as possible. His cottage, which is quite new, is at Easthampton, L. I., and in this spot where lived John Howard Payne, the author of the immortal lyric, " Home, Sweet Home," the Drews have their ingleneuk. Unhke Southampton, one of its neighbors, and next to Newport and Bar Harbor, probably the best-known summer resort of society people in the United States, Easthampton is rather an unpretentious place. There are superb cottages at Southampton ; Easthampton is more quiet in character. It was discovered by artists, and artists stiU frequent it and love it for its quaint and picturesque characteristics. At the same time there is enough society there to keep things going, and a run over to Southampton for [27 ] FAMOUS ACTORS a Saturday evening dance at the Meadow Club is quite feasible. Moreover, it has a charming social centre in its own pretty Maid- stone Club, with golf links sloping down from the outskirts of the village to the sea. In fact, when all its aspects — picturesque, social, and artistic — are considered, East- hampton is just the sort of place a man of Mr. Drew's quiet and refined tastes would select for a residence which, perforce of cir- cumstances, can be only a summer one. It is enough out of the world for him to "lay off" and find total relaxation in the absence of all formality, yet enough in the world for him to be of it when he wants to. Outdoor exercise, however, is his chief summer devotion and outdoor exercise of the more exacting kind. The beautiful golf links of the Maidstone Club see comparatively little of Mr. Drew. Some years ago he took a lot of lessons in golf from a professional [28 ] c!§ THEIR HOMES in Chicago, and was a fairly good golfer. But he is not much of a golfer now. His interest in the game is waning, because — unlike other men of fifty - he does not Copijrlglil, 1U02, 1/1/ J. Byran John Drew consider it strenuous enough. He shows his physical " fitness " in his preference for tennis, which he plays fast and well. Tennis is his game afoot, but riding is his favorite exer- cise. Formerly he rode to hounds a good [ 29 ] FAMOUS ACTORS deal, but now he feels he cannot risk a rib or shoulder out, as he may not always have the part of a wounded officer to play, as in " The Second in Command." Accordingly he has rather dropped out of fox-hunting, and does not ride to hounds more than per- haps once of a summer, if there happens to be a pack at Shinnecock Hills near South- ampton. But when he does, the old spirit revives in him, and he is as clean over his fences as any one in the field. All the roads around Easthampton, how- ever, know him well. He keeps three or four ponies down there, and constantly indulges his passion for riding, which his daughter shares with him ; and it is the usual thing to see them out together. He also is a good swimmer, and can plunge through the surf and swim out with the youngest. The Drew Cottage is quite unpretentious, a gray shingled house in Colonial style 'with [ 30 ] <§ THEIR HOMES a large porch on one side and a commodious entrance hall, which also is the living room. " I presume yau have a ' den ' ? " he was asked by some one who could not imagine any one of distinction getting along without something going by that much misused term. " I have a library in my cottage," was Mr. Drew's simple answer. He has, however, no fixed hne of reading. He himself calls his reading desultory. " That is the kind of reading for an actor," he says, — " desultory — getting hold of everything one can find." Mr. Drew treasures several relics which he keeps in his home. They include two large and beautiful silver cups which were presented to his mother and father many years ago ; a silver ewer and two cups given to them by people of Philadelphia ; and a portrait of his mother by Sully. He also values highly a sUver set presented in California to Mr. and Mrs. Baker, his wife's father and mother. [31 ] FAMOUS ACTORS A glimpse into Mr. and INIrs. Drew's refined home, a knowledge of their charming family life with their daughter, between whom and themselves there is the deepest devotion, goes far to explain why the occupation of the paragrapher who used to earn a living writing jokes about actors walking home on raihoad ties, is gone. [ 32 ] WILLIAM GILLETTE jILLIAM GILLETTE, by reason of his distinguished an- cestry, the standing of his fam- ily, and his bringing up, was in a position to fit himself for any career. He deliberately chose the stage. He was born in Hartford, Connecticut, July 24, 1855, in the old Gillette place, now occu- pied by his sister, Mrs. George Warner, a sister-in-law of the late Charles Dudley War- ner. There Mr. Gillette still reserves a " den." This he occupies on his occasional visits to Hartford. His " den " is his " home," so that he still has an abiding-place among his own people and in the house of his birth. [35 ] FAMOUS ACTORS The roomy old house stands in among glori- ous old trees, far back from the street, and in the best-known part of Hartford usually re- ferred to as " Nook Farm," after the residence made noted by Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe. Next door to the Gillette place is the Charles Dudley Warner residence ; near by, " Mark Twain's " former house ; while just over the way is the Isabella Beecher Hooker place. It was amid such surroundings " Will," as all his old Hartford friends call Mr. Gillette, spent his youth. His father, Francis Gillette, was a remark- able character, — a stern man of few words, who seldom said anything on any subject, but when he did, meant business. His boys would no more have ventured to argue with him, if he requested them to do something which they did not very well like, than they would have argued with a thunder-storm. A lifelong friend of William Gillette's has related to [36 ] c% THEIR HOMES me how A\^illiain once attempted to tell his father a lie in order to a^'ert severe corporeal pnnishment, which he felt sure would follow a statement of tlie truth reyardino- a certain episode of his conduct, but found when his Pholotjrdplied by tlt<^ Wiinwr J'/iolo. Co. The Gillette Homestead, Hartford father looked at him that he could not do so. The consec|uence was, that in spite of himself he told the truth and got the thrashing. Fran- cis Gillette was educated at Yale, and after- wards studied law, but before he practised to any extent was mixed up in politics and inter- [ 37 ] FAMOUS ACTORS ested in reforms of various kinds, with the re- sult that he did not continue his professional career. He was one of the first of the anti- slavery men in the North and an associate of Wendell Phillips, William Lloyd Garrison, and others. His house was several times stoned by mobs in those exciting times, and he himself narrowly escaped personal attack there on various occasions. But it made no difference with him or his behavior. He was sent to the U. S. Senate and was in Washington at the most disturbed period of the antislavery discussions. One affair there, growing out of the Fugitive Slave Law, nearly cost him his life. Three escaped ne- groes were being pursued through the streets of Washington, and were hidden in houses by their few sympathizers. But the mob and the officers were on their track, and it was evident that their pursuers soon would be able to find them, as several blocks of houses where they [38 ] THEIR HOMES were supposed to be concealed had been surrounded. Francis Gillette was going through the streets and was an indignant spectator of this man hunt, when he received word through a trusted messenger that if the mob could be diverted for a few moments, they would be able to get the negroes out of the city. He immediately jumped on to the porch of a house, and began a most violent harangue in favor of antislavery, rebuking in the most scathing terms the men who were in pursuit of the negroes. The result of it was that a crowd soon began to gather round and, as they became more and more excited, they got ropes and determined to hang him on the spot. In five minutes he had drawn the entire mob around him and they had become so violent that the few police who had assembled were unable to handle them. The mob leaders put a rope around the senator's neck and started [39] FAMOUS ACTORS to drag him to a lamp-post in order to string him up. In the mean time the hunted negroes had been gotten out of the way successfully, and were hustled over the line out of the City of AVashington. The only thing that saved Francis Gillette from an abrupt ending to his career was the arrival of a squad of police just as the order was given to string him up. The Gillettes have been of stern stuff even from before Francis Gillette's time. Two of them, ancestors of William Gillette in direct line, served in the Revolutionary War, one of them being killed in the battle of Trenton. William Gillette's own brother Robert was killed at the storming of Fort Fisher in the terrific charge over half a mile of level sand. Among the articles found on Robert's body was a shattered watch. Many years later William Gillette had the fragments of this timepiece put together; and if you ask the hour, the watch he draws out is the very one [ 40 ] Photographed by Frank Warner William Gillette <% THEIR HOMES his brother wore when he led his command across the shot and shell swept plain in front of Fort Fisher. Another brother died in the army, and when William's father drove him to , the station on his first leaving home to try a theatrical career, he said, " Well, William, I have taken two sons to this station, and they never have returned ; I trust you will prove an exception to the rule." That was all he said when William left home to go to St. Louis, where he made his first effort to get on the stage. Yet even that much was considerable for a man of Francis Gillette's temperamental reserve to say. The son appreciated it and remembers it to this day whenever he wishes to give a characterization of his father. He had an- other reason to feel kindly toward him. The elder Gillette wished the young man to be- come a lawyer. Yet, as Mr. Gillette has told a friend, his father was the one member of the [ 43 ] FAMOUS ACTORS family who did not raise a strong objection when his son decided to go on the stage. With his usual reserve he said nothing at all on the subject, but the young man felt on starting out that he had his father with him. Later, when he found himself stranded in New Orleans, it was his father, though he ill could afford it, who sent him the money to get back to Hartford, and when he reached home, while no fatted calves were slaughtered, his reception was all right. The characteristics of the father are well worth bearing in mind in considering the son, for Francis Gillette's personality has left its mark upon William. Not only has the lat- ter shown true New England grit and tenacity of purpose throughout his career, but none, save his most intimate friends, have been able to penetrate the reserve which, like a veil, hides the real gentleness and humanity of his nature from a mere casual acquaintance. It [ 44. ] <§ THEIR HOMES will be remembered that in his best-known stage creations, notably " Secret Service " and " Sherlock Holmes," a certain austerity of mien and action hides the deep love that shines forth in the end. Doubtless, some of the gentler aspects of his nature come to him from his mother. Her maiden name was Elizabeth Daggett Hooker. •Like Francis Gillette, she was a descendant of the earliest white settlers of Massachusetts. Thomas Hooker, who drew up the first civil constitution for the Commonwealth, which afterward was taken as a model for the Con- stitution of the United States, was her direct ancestor four or five generations back. He par- ticipated in the early settlement of Hartford. In whatever affectionate remembrance Wil- liam Gillette holds his father, his mother always came first with him. She was a tiny, delicate little creature, and he always had such an air of care and love and devotion toward [45 ] FAMOUS ACTORS her that it was very beautiful to see them together. That William Gillette's adoption of the stage was the result of natural impulse is the opinion of those who knew him as a boy. As one of the most widely known New England divines, Rev. Joseph H. Twichell, D.D., puts it, " Will Gillette was a born actor. The first time I ever saw him in that character was in a play he, with other lads, performed in his father's house, when he was no more than twelve years old, before a Ladies' Benevolent Society of the church of which 1 ain pastor." Before that, when he was about eleven, he had astonished his family by rigging up a miniature theatre. It was made of a large box with the front cut out and the top taken off. In the front he built a proscenium about three feet high and of much the same width, with drop curtain, borders, etc. He had foot- lights, which were small candles arranged on [46 ] <§ THEIR HOMES a frame underneath so that they could be operated up or down, and thus he got the hghting effects which he had seen in real theatres. The scenes slid in from the top, Flwtographed by Warner Photo. Co. The " Den " at the Homestead and he had a great deal of real enjoyment in painting these scenes himself and arranging everything to work properly. The various characters in the plays, or whatever else he produced, were worked in a number of ways. Some were suspended by very fine black [47] FAMOUS ACTORS thread or wire, and others, when the nature of the scene would allow it, were worked from below. The first thing he gave in this theatre was a minstrel performance. The curtain rang up on what is known as the " first part ; " that is, the entire company seated in a semi- circle with various instruments. These min- strels in this particular scene were worked both ways. Some fine wires from above would work the arms and hands, in order to give them the appearance of playing their various instruments, and then he gave them various motions from below and behind as well. In this instance all the wires and threads above were attached to a single piece, so that he could work them in unison, as he did not have enough hands to work each char- acter and manage the other business required in the scene. He imitated various instruments with his mouth, and also worked bells and imitations [ 48 ] <§ THEIR HOMES of tambourines with his feet. After the open- ing overture each one in the semicircle would stand up in turn and sing a song or do some- thing else appropriate to the occasion. Also between these musical selections the end men would cany on a supposedly funny dialogue with each other and the interlocutor. This dialogue was the part which the boy Gillette hked most. After this part of the show was over, sketches were introduced in which char- acters went on and off and various catastrophes happened. The next performance in this min- iature theatre was a real theatrical performance with plays which Gillette himself wrote for the occasion and which were received with consid- erable applause. Two or three years later the boy organized a juvenile company among his friends, built a stage in the large attic of the Gillette house and gave performances there. Though these youthful efforts on the stage and at playwrighting may not be classed as [49 ] FAMOUS ACTORS more than boyish diversions and attempts, their bearing upon the career of the future actor and dramatic author must be considered as highly important. During the younger years mind and feehngs are more plastic than during later periods of life, and in a crude way William Gillette was as a "kid" gaining a technical facility in expression and writing which must not be undervalued. A young fellow who exercises any talent of this kind at all goes at the thing in a very straight and direct way, — by the shortest cut, — and this may be the reason a Gillette play has about the least possible amount of dialogue, the author realizing that " situation " counts for more than the spoken word. Young Gillette did not go directly on the stage after his school years. He first tried the entertainment platform. He gave public read- ings and recitations, including costume imita- tions of various actors, among them Booth, the [50 ] &, THEIR HOMES elder Sothern, John T. Raymond, and Jeffer- son. From his father, who in the Senate had heard Webster's reply to Hayne, and who was highly adept in reproducing the voice, Photographed by the, Warner Photo. Co. Deck View of the "Aunt Polly" gesture, and mannerism of any one by whom he had been impressed, William had picked up some capital imitations of some of the great statesmen of the day, and these he also introduced in his programs. [51 ] FAMOUS ACTORS After several seasons on the platform, Gil- lette finally determined to get away somewhere and go on the stage. He had money enough to take him to St. Louis, where he tackled Ben de Bar, who was the manager of a theatre there and of another in New Orleans. De Bar would not have anything to do with him at first ; but Gillette was desperate, and, when the manager turned away, hung on to him and actually turned him around again, expostulat- ing that he simply must be allowed to join the company, and that he did not want any salary whatever. This was a " whopper," but it did the business, for the pecuniary part of it in- terested the manager. As a result, Gillette was engaged for small parts at the old St. Charles Theatre, New Orleans, and it was there he made his actual stage ddbut. Next season, through the influence of Mark Twain, he secured a minor position in John T. Raymond's company for the New York sea- [52 ] <§ THEIR HOMES son, and, during that time, he attended lec- tures at the New York University. In 1874, as a member of the Globe Theatre Company, Boston, the illness of Harry Murdoch se- cured him a chance to play Prince Florian in " Broken Hearts." An eye-witness, and a crit- ical one, of that performance, tells me that while it was awkward, it was curiously inter- esting. At all events, it made an impression and gave Gillette some standing. When the play was put on again, later in the season, he was allowed to retain the r61e, although Mur- doch was perfectly well. The management explained that it was traditional, when an understudy went on and played a part, to let him have it at a later production. This was one of the few stage traditions that ap- pealed to Gillette at that time as the proper thing. During this engagement, the daytime saw him at Boston University and the Insti- tute of Technology. [63 ] FAMOUS ACTORS For two seasons thereafter, he acted with the Macaulay Stock Company in Cincinnati, occasionally going over to Louisville for a week. Near the end of the second season, Kate Claxton came to Cincinnati with " The Two Orphans." He played the comedy part so acceptably that she offered him an engage- ment for a travelling season, and " as Macaulay was not paying salaries at that time," Gillette accepted. It was during his connection with the Ma- caulay company he wrote his first play for the professional stage, " The Professor." He was several years getting it produced, until Mark Twain, for old acquaintance' sake, again came to his aid. I was present at the first perform- ance of " The Professor," which also had the added importance of presenting Gillette for the first time in a leading role in a metro- politan theatre. It was at the Madison Square in 1881, [54 ] ^ THEIR HOMES Gillette was capital in his droll personation of the whimsical, near-sighted professor who, after all, wins the love of the heroine, charmingly played by poor Georgia Cayvan. It was not long before Gillette was heard of again. For at the same house I attended, in the following October, " Esmeralda," the joint work of Mrs. Frances Hodgson Burnett and himself. Here I simply would give a list of Mr. Gil- lette's principal plays, were it not for an inci- dent showing how the canny New Englander now and then crops out in him. Under the title of " Digby's Secretary," he made an adaptation of Von Moser's " Bibliothekar." Charles Hawtrey, the English actor, made another version, " The Private Secretary," to which A. M. Palmer secured the American rights. In 1884 both versions had their first per- formance on the same night in New York, Mr. Palmer's at the Madison Square, Mr. [55 ] FAMOUS ACTORS Gillette, with himself in the leading role, at the Comedy. Mr. Gillette rang up his cur- tain at 8 P.M.; Mr. Palmer at 8.15 p.m., — Mr. Gillette, it will be observed, a quarter of an hour earlier than Mr. Palmer. Both ver- sions were successful. One afternoon, a year and a half later, Mr. Gillette walked into Mr. Palmer's office and announced that Mr. Palmer owed him a year and a half royalties on " The Private Secretary." The ground ? Gillette's priority of production, — that ringing up of the curtain a quarter of an hour earlier. You may be sure an astute manager like Mr. Palmer would not have yielded an inch had Gillette simply been "putting up a bluff." But the final result was that a new version was made of the best portions of both plays, and, with William Gillette in the leading role, " The Private Secretary " successfully toured the country. Among Gillette's best -known plays are [56 ] ^ THEIR HOMES " Held by the Enemy," " Too Much Johnson," " Secret Service," and " Sherlock Holmes." " Too Much Johnson " was a failure at first. It was winding up its brief career with a last two weeks in Brooklyn, when the failure of a production at a New York theatre called for a stop gap there. " Too Much Johnson " was brought across the river, ran the whole sea- son, and went on the road a prosperous enter- prise. The romantic story is told that while battling with illness in a cabin in the North Carohna woods one winter, Gillette wrote the play which made him famous, " Secret Ser- vice." But if any one had chanced to look into the library of the Players' Club, New York, one summer, he would have seen, almost any time, Wilham Gillette seated at a desk writing ; and it was then and there the greater part of " Secret Service " was written. A friend of Gillette's, C. W. Burpee, of Hart- ford, has kindly gone to considerable trouble [57 ] FAMOUS ACTORS to give me some glimpses of the pleasure his occasional homecomings give to his relations and friends there. It is true he does not often find opportunity to revisit the home of his boyhood ; but that he still has a warm spot in his heart for a home, is shown by the way he arranges his rooms in hotels, and even his dress- ing-rooms at the theatres. He always carries with him reminders of his home friends and his home life, and his valet quickly learns that good places for these reminders, whatever his quarters, are deemed by Mr. Gillette as of as much importance as good places for his utilitarian belongings. Then, between the acts, or while others of the company are hurrying away for a little recreation, he will sit down among these re- minders and write one of his inimitable letters to the " folks at home," to whom they come like rays of sunshine. If he has time for but a word, he will enclose some clever or amusing [58 ] ^ THEIR HOMES newspaper clipping, occasionally with humor- ous side notes. His sister and her family at the old home- stead in Hartford are ever in his mind. There are daily tokens of this. When he is across Photographed by Warner Photo. Co, The Salon on the " Aunt Polly ^' the water, these tokens often take the shape of long cablegrams. Incidentally, Gillette never did seem to have any appreciation of the cost of telegraphing; oftentimes he will wire a fairly long letter when a few words or [59 ] FAMOUS ACTORS the post might have sufficed. He does every- thing on a generous scale. Then what joy there is at the beautiful old homestead when he returns ! He walks in, the same Will Gillette he is on the stage, dis- sipating all humors of mind and body, and carrying every soul along with him for a round of pleasure and happiness while he is in the house. During these brief vacations he likes best to give himself up entirely to the family. He sees so much of the world the rest of the twelve months that he counts these few hours precious in the society of those dearest to him. If at times he has to resort to cunning to de- fend the hours from the hosts of friends and admirers and stage aspirants who try to seek him out in his home, he is to be commended for it. He loves company and always is genial ; but there are moments which he feels he has a right to dispose of as he will. Gillette does n't throw away restraint when [60 ] <§ THEIR HOMES he enters his home ; for he never appears to have any, in the cold sense. He is free and hght-hearted as a schoolboy, full of quips and pranks and funny anecdotes. Withal he is courtly, in the good old meaning of the days of chivalry. The tender side of his nature has full sway. He adores his sister as a young man adores his sweetheart, and to her children he ever has stood as the fairy-tale prince, only real. He 's all realism. Realism with him is nature, and what glimpses of this nature one obtains before the footlights are genuine, as is apparent where he gives himself up absolutely to his nature, in his own home. Withal, how- ever, there 's one thing he can't be induced to do, and that is to talk about himself or his affairs. He is as close-shelled as an oyster, — a mighty good-natured oyster. No, what he wants when he gets home is to learn what the others have been doing, and how they have been faring, and he is so busy asking ques- [61 J FAMOUS ACTORS tions about that, that there's no time for him to talk about his own experiences, save, of course, an occasional droll incident, told merely to keep up the general merriment. Let a home friend come to the table preoccupied, his mind full of the cares of life, and put out by petty annoyances, and the moment Gillette appears it 's all laughter and sunshine. He is a tonic. If he had nothing else to win the love of people, that alone would be enough. He can't sit still long at a time, even when he is at work. If he goes up to his den on the top floor for a few hours' writing, he soon can be heard moving about and singing, and the family know that he is looking over some of the idols of his boyhood. His den is full of specimens of his skill with carpenter's tools, from the table and its quaint chair to the novel window-seats. And on a stand near by is a complete engine he made when a boy, along with knick-knacks of all sorts. His brain is [62 ] e s ^ j i^li Copyright^ 1902, by J. Byron A Quiet Cup of Tea o'clock, when he dines. The interval be- tween dinner and the time for leaving for the theatre he divides between rest and mental concentration upon his role. During this [91 ] FAMOUS ACTORS period of his day any interruption positively is prohibited. The pubhc Httle appreciates the exactions of the stage. It thinks the actor simply walks on when the curtain rises and off when it falls. Does it realize, for instance, that on matinee days the actor hardly has washed off his " make up " from the afternoon's performance, before he has to put it on again for the evening ? When Mr. Mansfield was acting Cyrano at the Garden Theatre, New York, the interval between matinees and even- ings was so brief that he was obliged to take a room at the Holland House near by for a slight rest and a hasty bite between performances. Mr. Mansfield usually is at the stage door before any member of his company. He is thus early not only to set an example, but also because he is very careful in " making up " his role. Having been a painter before he became an actor, he looks upon this part of his work with the artist's eyes. I once watched him [92 ] <§ THEIR HOMES " making up " for Dick Dudgeon in " The Devil's Disciple." He was doing all the work himself, his dresser simply holding a handglass in varying positions so that, reflected in the mirror before him, he could see his face and head from all points of view. " There," he said, pointing to the " make-up " box, " is my palette ; here," with a flourish of the haresfoot, " is my brush ; and here," pointing to his face, " my canvas." It was the artist, not the actor, speaking. " Time is too valuable to be wasted," is Mr. Mansfield's motto in the management of his company. Work has taken the place of the old-time Bohemianism of the stage. Young people who think stage life is one grand frolic should remember that the theatre, like every other institution which has prospered, has felt the influence of modem business methods. In the Richard Mansfield Company everything has been reduced to a system. One of the [93] FAMOUS ACTORS star's favorite anecdotes relates to how he him- self was made cognizant of its thoroughness. " Every member of my company," he says, in telling it, " has an identification card which must be presented at the stage door. One night we were playing in a new theatre in the West. As I was passing in the doorkeeper stopped me. " ' Card, please.' '"But — ' I began. " ' You 've got to show a card to get in.' " ' I haven't a card.' " ' Have n't a card ? Do you belong to this show ? ' " ' No.' " ' Then what are you doin' here ? ' " ' This show belongs to me.' " Then the doorkeeper looked up, recognized me, and probably would still be apologizing if I had n't assured him that he had done exactly right." [94 ] ^ THEIR HOMES Mansfield's success came to him compar- atively early in his career, yet he had his fuU share of hardships beforehand. He was a prankish boy ; but there was no one to discern in his pranks the overflow of vitality which, when directed into proper channels, makes for genius. He was born on the island of Heligo- land in 1857. He comes rightfully by his genius for the stage, for his mother was the celebrated opera-singer, Emma RudersdorfF. At ten years he was placed at a school in Germany. His artistic tastes led him to paint his classroom door a vivid green. He was so proud of this achievement that he signed his name to it, which, of course, led to his dis- covery and punishment. His mother came to this country in 1869. She sang at the Boston Peace Jubilee in 1872, with such success that she settled in Boston, and Richard, who then was studying at Yver- don, Switzerland, was sent for. He was [95 ] FAMOUS ACTORS employed for a time in a large Boston dry- goods store, but his artistic aspirations were too strong to be overcome. He could sing, play, mimic, and paint. The last seemed to him his special bent. He rented a studio, painted water-colors, and sold them among his friends. In a comparatively brief time, however, aU these were happy possessors of Mansfield aquarelles, and the sales fell off in briskness until he found himself in the not very cheer- ful position of an artist who could paint much faster than he could sell. In this dilemma he decided to turn his talent for music and mimicry to account. He hired a small hall, had tickets and circulars printed, and, falling back upon his Dickens, announced "Vincent Crummel's Entertain- ment." He played the piano and sang, and gave " imitations " of performers on various instruments, very much as he did later in " Prince Karl." In 1875 he went to England, [ 96 ] 'a g o s e ! 8 e Holland, "Sir. Henry M. llogers, a dis- tinouishcd lawyer of Boston, tlie Sotherns, and Dr. Harris. On this trip yunn<;- Sothern's whole pei-sonality was a constant source of pleasure to liis father's friends, especially liis respect and love for his father, and his s e 1 f-restraint, so much in contrast Avith the average A ni e r i e a n A'. //. Solhern. 1, by J. Byron A Quiet Game with Us Daughter during odd moments while tending the fruit- stand. From that time until his engagement at the theatre closed, Wilson wrote out a daily [ 173 ] FAMOUS ACTORS lesson for the boy, obtained his written answers the following day, and on the third handed them back to him corrected. In his recreative moods he is as versatile as he is in his bookish moods., He is consid- ered one of .the most expert fencers in the country, and is a long-distance swimmer of repute. He loves the water, and in summer swims every morning with his family off the beach at New Rochelle. He delights and ex- cels at golf, is an expert at chess, plays an in- vincible game of ping-pong, and at tennis on his own place is the joy and life of a game with his two girls. His wife and children are always present on the first night of a new opera, and when he comes to Philadelphia the right-hand box on his opening night is reserved for his mother and his sisters, all of whom reside in Philadelphia, for Wilson's ancestors on his father's side were Quakers ; his mother's people were Virginians. [ 174 ] <§ THEIR HOMES " Sending grapes to an admirer ? " smilingly asked a friend of the actor once, finding him in a fruit-store. " That 's right ; an admirer who has admired me for nearly fifty years," replied the actor, as he gave his mother's address to the fruiterer. Thus, surrounded by his family and books when at home, and always in the company of his books when he is travelling from city to city, Francis Wilson leads a happy, studious life. The days are never long to him. "They haven't hours enough to suit me, and so I borrow a few from the night," he once said to his intimate friend, Edward Bok. And when those who have been in his audience at the theatre are soundly sleeping from the evening's pleasure he has given them, Francis Wilson is sitting deep down in an easy-chair, either in the library of his own home or in his room at the hotel absorbed in a book, oblivious of time or place. [ 175 J THE LAMBS' ^HE Lambs' Club, on West Thirty-sixth Street, New York, is the most popular actors' club in the world. Its doors never are closed. A few seasons ago E. W. Presbrey, the playwright, and a Lamb, who lived near the club, was burned out at five o'clock in the morning, and narrowly escaped with his life. In his pajaijias and bare feet he ran around the corner and through the open doors of the Lambs' Club. Practically he was at home. That word " home " conveys one reason why the club is so popular. It is the one retreat from the furnished room and board- ing-house open to many members of the pro- fession. It is the " home " club of many [ 179 ] FAMOUS ACTORS players. No wonder it has a large member- ship and a large waiting list. As a club it enjoys the unique distinction of containing both actors and an audience, and a highly select audience, too. For there is a lay membership as well as a histrionic one. The non-histrionic members are of two classes, those who, although not actors, follow some artistic pursuit, like painters, sculptors, archi- tects, or some occupation allied to the stage, like playwrights ; and out-and-out lay mem- bers, classed as non-professional. Usually the latter are men of leisure or semi-leisure. A splendid audience both classes of lay members form when there is an exchange of wit, a suddenly improvised dialogue or bur- lesque (often just a spark of wit will fire a whole train), or one of the regular monthly gam- bols. Once an actor always an actor, and actors make proverbially bad audiences. That is just where the importance of the Lambs' [180 ] I'h'jiogr'iplied hij Sarony Harry Montague