"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 n.i.g.g.e.r, _Uncle Rufus_, in that play. I was born in the South, and I will not play a n.i.g.g.e.r. 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? n.o.body 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 a.s.sociated 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 ama.s.sed 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 a.s.sociates 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 a.s.sociation 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 a.s.sociated 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 ma.n.u.script 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 inst.i.tuted. 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 ma.n.u.script 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!"