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duet her as befitted her position as Queen of the night. Again, Miss Eliza Petrie, who had been sent for from Philadelphia, had not yet arrived, but by a post missive promised to be in New York by the six o'clock line. These two ladies were the axles on which the piece revolved. But there was an awful termor until the managers were assured of the female lieutenants' arrival. Wemyss flow with his weighty person to the boat at the Courtland street, an lo! he found his bird of Paradise sitting in the ladies' cabin disguised in a green veil. He "cabbed" her immediately to Miss C. Cushman's lodgings, and reported progress to his managerial autocrat at the National. Joy was the consequence, encouraging their exertions with renewed animation.
Things, however, were in a state of "confusion were confounded" at the theatre. Everything was hurry-scurry; tailors and seamstresses were finsihing costumes; carpenters were sawing and hammering' painters finishing waters, rocks and flowers; and it was now past the time when the doors should be open. The transparent waters of the Persian bath were not yet placed on the rocking, undulating machinery, nor the trucks whereon on the Naiads were to swim, mounted and covered with corals; some were without rollers. &c. Burton, blowing out his fat checks, and in a profuse perspiration bustling about the stage, exclaimed in intense anxiety to Wemyss, carpenter and prompter--
"Can we open?"
"Don't give up the ship" till the last moment," said Wemyss. "Have a placard printed that some of the grand machinery has not arrived from Philadelphia. If the worst comes to the worst, dismiss them with a promise of brilliant additions bu tomorrow night."
The house was full and crowds were forcing their way in. A grand and most important question was mooted--"If we play the piece in this unprepared state we damn it to all intents and purposes, and so damned we destroy the whole season to a certainty!" Here were presented the herns of a dilemma. Burton called out in agony:
"Where is Jake Johnson?"
"Here, sir."
"Jake, my dear boy, can we get through with this piece, if we make an act, to set the Bath scene, one of the great obstacles to get over?"
"For the honor of the Philadelphia stage, we are strangers here, don't let us be beaten away," exclaimed Wemuss.
Jake replied:
"Gentlemen, I will get through it; a;; I ask is the act drop before the Bath scene."
Wemyss said:
"Mr. Burton, will you consent to the expedient, 'hit or miss?'"
A long pause. Burton replied:
"If you are willing to risk your credit as stage manager, and Jake his reputation as master machnist, I have the nerve to risk my name as Billy Burton, lease and manager. Go ahead!"
And ahead they went. The house, as we said, was crowded. At half-past seven o'clock up went the curtain.
The traps on the stage are signlaed to work by bells placed at the respective apertures under the beams of the stage flooring, where carpenters are placed to worth them by a windlass and cranks, withdrawing support-props previous to hointing the platforms whereon a spirit from the "vasty deep" rises to or sinks from the eys of the audience. On this occasion there was but one bell under the stage to give the hands the cue for the various traps to open and shut. G.S. Nixon, the promepter, a smart little fellow, originally of the Park Theatre, and now reader to the Board of New York Alderman, or was so some ten years ago, (if alive, he nust be near seventy years of age,) could not leave his post at the prompter's boxl so when he rang a bell to open a trap door, Wemyss was at hand to run down under the stage to see that right trap was worked. Now considering that in the "Naiad Queen" about twenty of these cures were give, Wemuss, with his mountain of flesh and muscles, must have had the labor and durance of Hercules. But he killed the hydra-headed difficulty.
The dreaded Bath scene brilliantly conquered; and although it was a very meagre apology for what it should have been, all of the intricate imporant scenes passed off with slight errors, only, but generally with éclat, or without deserved disapprobation. Burton finsihed his part; he headed the procession with a guide banner, assisting in the winding marches, which he directed. But the save-all of the spectacle were the female warriors, who performed, at the admirable, military commands of Charlotte Cushman, the complicated evolutions with great precision and beauty. The crescents, the sqaures, the diamonds and stars of military and fancy marching maneuvers, were most remarkably well executed, and the display brought down the house with thunders of applause, ending the third act, on this occasion played as the fourth act, with loud huzzas! The last act went off extremely well. Under the circumstances, it was a decided success, and not one of an ordinary character.
Burton was loudly called for. Begrimed with black and streaming with perspiration, in a tattered dress and fainting with fatuge of bodyo and mind, appeared before the auditors, with some few droll explanations and sincere thanks for their forbearance and applause. He reited from before the curtain, and over a hot supper at Windust's the two managers congratulated themselves on the success of their energeis, which turned their tribulations of a day into a merry meeting at night.
The next difficulty that occurred uner this new Philadelphia management at the New York National was that Burton, not content to leave "well enough alone," but in his usal hot pursuit after novelt, laid aside the dearly-accquired fame of "The Naiad Queen," (a miserable policy that he adopted before in Philadelphia,) and announced J.B. Booth, J.R. Scott and Miss Clarendon, in "Othello," for the ensuing Monday night. Business took Burton to Philadelphia on Sunday; and on Sunday evening, while Wemyss, the stage manager, was sipping his tea at the American Hotel, John R. Scott entered his room, to say that he could not perform Othello on Monday night, as he was obliged to act on that night at Philadelphia. Wemyss begged him to first fulfill his engagement with Burton, and said that a disappointment at the beginning of the season would be fatal to their interest. Nought would do. Scott replied that his word pledged to return on Monday, and thither he would go by the early line. Wemyss found argument useless, abd Scitt was firmly bent on going. Go he did, leaving the National minus a noble Moor. This left Wemyss in a quandary what to do. Burton was absent. No Othello, and a very doubtful Iago left on hand, as Booth was in one of his insane humors, and the absence of Scott, whom Booth liked mych, was an event not well aclculated to soothe the little tragedian's mind. In this dilemma Wemyss bethought him of Mr. A. Wilson, the holder of the original lease of the National Theatre, form when Burton rented it. This gentleman resided on Long Island, and although in a quasi state of retirement, like all amibitous actors, he would get up at twevle o'clock at night to play a Shaksperian hero. Wemyss made him acquainted with his siuation and requested that he would perform Othello, to which he readily assented. A rehearsal was duly called. Miss Clarendon, who was the Desdemona, made her first appearnace on the American stage, on this occasion, April, 1841. She afterwards becamse a manageress at Pittsburg, &c. The cast was thus arranged:--Othello, Mir. WIlson; Iago, Mr. Booth; Roderigo, Mr. Wemyess; Cassio, Mr. E. Shaw; Desdemona, Miss Clarendon; Emilia, Miss C. Cushman. Before the curatin arose on the play Wemyss stepped before the audience with a well-digested apology for the change of Othello, which was received by the house with approbation. At the end of the tragedy vociferous calls were made for Booth. By-the-by, the public, by this call, meant to compliment Booth; they jsutly expected that if any disappointment was to be endured it would emanate from the eccentric tragedian, and not from Scott, who was generally faithful to his engagements; so that the great disappointer was now the reverser of this foregone conclusion. That Booth should have been faithful they thought deserved the complimnetary ovation of a call and a speech. But Booth would not go out at all; so the stage manager, per force, must go. Wemyss, with an ill grace, was obliged to make a second speech. He appeared in the usual managerial full suit of black, worn from time ummeorial by all apoloetic managers when ready to appease the disappointed humors of the audience, or to return thanks for their kind indulgence. Park Benjamin exercised some critical wit theron in his next day's paper:--"The tall gentleman in black mourning the murder of his friend Roderigo." this was rather an unkind fling at Wemyss' performance of that character. It was thought here that his Roderigo was a clever piece of acting. This tragedy, although with the usual flourigh of a "strong cast" on top of the bill, gave no satisfaction, and it was said for a metropolitan theatre to be one most disgraceful. The critics said that Wilson's Othello put the audience to sleepl that Booth's Iago was nearly as badl that E. Shaw's Cassio and Miss C. Cushman's Emilia were the only approaches to acting during the entire performance.
"The Naiad Queen" was restoed to the boards with more perfection ath the end of Booth's engagement.
May 24th, 1841 Burton produced a very excellent drama, or the alteration of one, by himself, which did him much credit, called "Semiramis, the Daughter of Air." In this piece Miss C. Cushman took the New York audience by surprise, in a character that seemed adapted to her very peculiar powers. It had been written solely with a view to her unqiue capabilities; the fit could not have been better devised. It gave her reputation which greatly assisted her then rising fame. The piece was suddenly cut short in its brilliant progress by the destruction of the National Theatre, on May 28th, by fire. "Semiramis" was destined to be the last piece, with "Love, Law and Physic," that
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ever was played within its walls. On the afternoon of this fatal evening, Wemyss met Burton at the Philadelphia steamboat landing, the latter having just arrived. they leisurely walked up to the theatre together, talking over their business, Wemyss reporting to his manager the occurences of his administration during his absence. As thus in conversation they entered the theatre, they met Mr. Oakey, the dancer, and a member of the company. He called Mr. Wemuss aside, and said, "Do you kno, Mr. Wemyss, the theatre has been on fire?" "No; how long ago?" "Not ten minutes since." He led Wemyss to the prompter's box, and pointed out three distinct marks of fire, in as many differnt positions. Other indications of fire were seen. While the parties were thus engaged in searching behind the scenes, the gas man, Shiers, passed through theinterior the house, with his torch night lighted. Wemsys addressed him: "George, do you know anything about the theatre being on fire?" He hardly made any answer to the question, but treated it jestingly, and hurried away without giving the matter the least investigation. The managers becmae alrmed; a search was made in other places, and the attempt to set the house on fire was traceable, portions of the combustibles being yet burning. Suspicion was instantly directed to this Shiers. Burton, who had been talking to Oakey, now gave orders to shut all the doors, exclaiming sotto voce, to Wemyss, "The man that did this is in the building now; you go one way, I'll go another; with strict search we may find him" No suspicion of further danger was entertained. The party thus dispered in search met at the painting room, and the proceeded to the flies, or rigging gallery, when Wemys said to Burton, "I smell fire here!" He then replid, "Oh that is no fire; it proceeds from the scorched wood in the prompter's box, just below." "No, said Wemyss, "It is too strong for that! It comes from the direction of Wilson's rooms." While thus in speech, Mr. Russell opened a door leading Wilson's apartments, when fire was discovered bursting forth. The water closet had been fired. Wilson's desk, and many of his paper, were in a blaze, the room being littlerd with old newspaper, playbills, etc. Down stairs fire was discovered under one of the ottomans, in the Turkish saloon (a splendid saloon, furnished in Turkish style). Here, under the cushions, was found a box lucifer matches, from which about one-third had been extracted for the purpose of igniting other combustible matter lying loosley about. The Ticket office the third tier was also found to have been fired, making in all seven places which been set on fire, which, in a very few minutes, if it has not been discovered, would have rendered all aid in its extinguishment in vain. Mr. Smith brought up from his restaurant, under the theatre, a large bundle of matches that had been thrown into the window of a small bedroom where he slept, adjoining his refectory. This led to another; and marks of rire, which had smouldered and gone out, were found in Smith's bedroom and in one next to it. These were proofs positive of incendiarism. Wemyss went, by Burton's desire, to the police office, when an officer, on hearing the particulars, questioned Shiers closely, who denied having any key that would open Wilson's rooms, or the one leading to them; but, upon trial, it was found that the key he used opened those doors readily. On this proof Shiers was into custody. The performances of the evening (as above) went on as if noght had occured; but strict watch was set after the theatre was out. About half-past one o'clock Burton and Wemmys visited the theatre before they weny home for the night, and found the watchman (Russell) at his post, and on the alert. All seemed safe, and they reitred. Wemuss says: "While quietly reposing in my bed, at the hotel, E. Shaw, the comedian, came rattling at my chamber door between six and seven o'clock, calling out, Up! quick! the National Theatre is in flames!" We ran as fast as our legs could carry us, and arrived at the corner of Leonard and Broadway, just in time to hear, not to see, the roof fall in." When the watchmen left the building he declares all was perfectly safe; yet after he left the theatre, he had not gone a square when he saw the flames bursting out of the windows. Harry Lewis, an actor, a member of the comepany, was the first who reached the theatre after it was on fire. He met Thomas Hurd, a man not belonging to the theatre in any way, at the stage door, who would not let Lewis enter. The latter night have saved Wemuyss' and Burton's dresses, &c., in the manager's room; but, by Hurd's interference, they were lost. On examination at the police office, this Hurd was committed for trial. The most extraordinary event in this matter was, that these two men, Hurd and Shiers, so clearly implicated in the burning, were never brought to trail, and is one of the many mysteries attending the circumstances. Why firther investigations were not sought, it would be hard to divine; a clearer case of incendiatism was never brough to light; but, from the absence of legal trial, the whole remained enveloped in mystery, while implications fell upon honorable men; base insinuations upong innoent persons, who ever stood above all idle suspicions. Who the perpetratos were, must now remain forever a secret, and so be buried with all time. Wemyss lost all the few private dresses that yet remained of his stock, he was left, to use his own words, "as an actor, a beggar indeed!" On Sunday, after the fire, Wemyss returned home to our city to await further orders from Burton, to whom he considered himself engaged till the 4th of July. W. Dinneford and others made Wemyss offers, all of which he refused, being bound to Burton by agreement. After a lapse of time he received an intimation from Burton that he was going to attend his own stage business nest season, at the Philadelphia National Theatre, and could not offer Wemyss any position worthy of his consideration.
On the 19th of June, 1841, at the National Theatre, Chestnut street, Burton, under the auspices of a very large committee of citizens, put forth the following benefit appeal:
Mr. Burton, whose recent severe losses, in the destruction of the New York National Theatre by fire, of all valuable wardrobe, dresses of various pieces prodcued at Philadelphia and New York, with his own stage wardrobe, citizen's apparel, MSS, music, wigs properties, appeals to the citizens of this city for some beneficial relief through the professional mediim of a compensatory benefit to be given this evening at his theatre.
A number of his professional brethren have volunteered to aid the object--when the comedy of "The Poor Gentleman" will be given. Lieutenant Worthingont, Mr. W.B. Wood; Ollapod, Burton: Frederick Branble, Mr. C. Hill; Sir Robert Bramble, Nickerson; Corporal Foss, Fahaml Humphrey Dobbins, Mitchell; Sir Charles Cropland, Wemyss; Stephen Harrowby, Hadaway; Miss Worthington, Mrs. Timm; Lucretia Mae Tab, Mrs. W. Jones.
To be followed by a Musical Orio by Mitchell's Buffo Coprs, viz:
Burlesque opera of "Sam Parr, with Red Coarse Hair."
Supported by Messrs. Horncastle, Mitchel, ROberts, Miss Singleten, Mrs. Watts, Mrs. Timma, &c.
Boxes (for this night only) $1; Second Tier 50 cents. The committee was Major George Cadwalader, Robert Morris, Joseph Head, R. Penn Smith, Col. John Swift, Charles Wharton, J.M. Sanderson, Jesper Harding, Tobias Huber, E.D. Ingraham, R.W. Dunlap, Col. Wm. Leiper, John Du Solle, Charles W. Bender, and some thirty more.
It may be worthy of remark here, as a theatrical record, that most of the American theatres about this period (1841) were in a state of insolvency. Their affairs at New York were all at the lowest ebb. We cannot say that the Walnut street house was so; for Mr. E.A. Marshall had just entered upon the lesseeship, and he stood solvent. The property of Mr. Simpson in the Park was advertised for sale, under seizure for rent, by Messrs. Astor & Baekman. This process, in all probability, was inrended as a protection, instead of an oppression, to Simpson. The National, at New York, had just been burnt, and the Bowery was closed by an injunction for non payment of license.
On Wemuyss' arrival in Philadelphia, forlorn and broken-hearted, the managers of the three theatres, vix: Mr. W. R. Blake of the Arch Street Theatre, Dinneford of the Walnut, and Mr. Lewis T. Pratt of the Chestnut Street, offered their theatres for his benefit.
Dinnerford's tender, Wemyss says, was rather a reluctant matter, which required would much prompting. The condolence of a benefit would have proved more congenial with Wemyss' feelings, coming from the Walnut. But on reflcetion he accepted the first offer, and had a lot of volunteers. The benefit came off on the 10th of June; and he had the mortification to lose money by the appeal. On the 17th of June, Miss C. Cushman, with the aid of a large committee of arrangements, at the Chestnut Street Theatre, did ont fare any better; and Burton, at his own theatre, was made to feel that "a manager in distress" inspired byt little sympathy from a public whome he had often delighted. Three prominent favorites were mortified to find their appeal neglected when the chances of life had emptied their pockets of every penny.
Burton, being thus on his beam ends, determined to open the National Theatre, Philadelphia, whic he did on Saturday evening, August 21st, 1841, with a most talented company in every department, consisting of new performers and old established favorites. The prices of admission were: Lower boxes 50 cents; Colored gallery 25 cents. This scale was in accordance with the times.
The opening play was announced to be Bulwer's fine comedy of "Money." Sire George Evelyn, E.S. Conner; Sir Frederick Blount, (first appearance here,) Mr. Charles Hill; Sir John Vesey, W. Jones; Graves, Burton; Stout, Roberts; Lady Franklin,, Mrs. Plumer; Georgiana, Mrs. Cantorl Clara, Miss Alexina Fisher.
After which Mrs. C. Hill made her first appearance in the freat new dance of the "Kravoviak." The farce was "Faint Heart Never Wond Fair Lady." Ray Gomex, E.S. Conner; Duchess de Torreneuve, Miss A. Fisher.
Mr. Edmonds was treasurer and box-keeper. The company had constantly changed from the first season. Richings, the stage manager, had gone over to the Chestnut Street THeatre; Conner had come in as a leading comedian, and did not appear the very first night, as announced. A change of pieces unavoidably occured. Mr. Wemyss, to oblige Barton, (he was not a member of the corps,) perform Bel-