Chapter I: Front Matter

SHENANDOAH

_A MILITARY COMEDY_

BRONSON HOWARD

(1842-1908)

The present Editor has just read through some of the vivacious correspondence of Bronson Howard--a sheaf of letters sent by him to Brander Matthews during a long intercourse. The time thus spent brings sharply to mind the salient qualities of the man--his nobility of character, his soundness of mind, his graciousness of manner, and his thorough understanding of the dramatic tools of his day and generation. To know Bronson Howard was to be treated to just that human quality which he put into even his hastily penned notes--and, as in conversation with him, so in his letters there are repeated flashes of sage comment and of good native wit. Not too often can we make the plea for the gathering and preserving of such material. Autobiography, after all, is what biography ought to be--it is the live portrait by the side of which a mere appreciative sketch fades. I have looked through the "Memorial" volume to Bronson Howard, issued by the American Dramatists Club (1910), and read the well-tempered estimates, the random reminiscences. But these do not recall the Bronson Howard known to me, as to so many others--who gleams so charmingly in this correspondence. Bronson Howard's plays may not last--"Fantine," "Saratoga," "Diamonds," "Moorcraft," "Lillian's Last Love"--these are mere names in theatre history, and they are very out of date on the printed page. "The Banker's Daughter," "Old Love Letters" and "Hurricanes" would scarcely revive, so changed our comedy treatment, so differently psychologized our emotion. Not many years ago the managerial expedient was resorted to of re-vamping "The Henrietta"--but its spirit would not behave in new-fangled style, and the magic of Robson and Crane was broken. In the American drama's groping for "society" comedy, one might put "Saratoga," and even "Aristocracy," in advance of Mrs. Mowatt's "Fashion" and Mrs. Bateman's "Self;" in the evolution of domestic problems, "Young Mrs. Winthrop" is interesting as an early breaker of American soil. But one can hardly say that, either for the theatre or for the library, Bronson Howard is a permanent factor. Yet his influence on the theatre is permanent; his moral force is something that should be perpetuated. Whatever he said on subjects pertaining to his craft--his comments on play-making most especially,--was illuminating and judicious. I have been privileged to read the comments sent by him to Professor Matthews during the period of their collaboration together over "Peter Stuyvesant;" they are practical suggestions, revealing the peculiar way in which a dramatist's mind shapes material for a three hours' traffic of the stage--the willingness to sacrifice situation, expression--any detail, in fact, that clogs the action. Through the years of their acquaintance, Howard and Matthews were continually wrangling good-naturedly about the relation of drama to literature. Apropos of an article by Matthews in _The Forum_, Howard once wrote:

I note that you regard the 'divorce' of the drama from
literature as unfortunate. I think the divorce should be made
absolute and final; that the Drama should no more be wedded to
literature, on one hand, than it is to the art of painting on
the other, or to music or mechanical science. Rather, perhaps,
I should say, we should recognize poligamy for the Drama; and
all the arts, with literature, its Harem. Literature may be
Chief Sultana--but not too jealous. She is always claiming too
large a share of her master's attention, and turning up her
nose at the rest. I have felt this so strongly, at times, as
to warmly deny that I was a 'literary man', insisting on being
a 'dramatist'.

Then, in the same note, he adds in pencil: "Saw 'Ghosts' last night. Great work of art! Ibsen a brute, personally, for writing it."

In one of the "Stuyvesant" communications, Howard is calculating on the cumulative value of interest; and he analyzes it in this mathematical way:

So far as the important act is concerned, I have felt that
this part of it was the hardest part of the problem before
us. We were certain of a good beginning of the act and a good,
rapid, dramatic end; but the middle and body of it I felt
needed much attention to make the act substantial and
satisfactory. To tell the truth, I was quietly worrying a bit
over this part of the play, while you were expressing your
anxiety about the 2nd act--which never bothered me. There
_must_ be 2nd acts and there _must_ be last acts--audiences
resign themselves to them; but 3rd acts--in 4 and 5 act
plays--they insist on, and _will_ have them good. The only
exception is where you astonish them with a good 2nd act--then
they'll take their siesta in the 3rd--and wake up for the 4th.

This psychological time-table shows how calculating the dramatist has to be, how precise in his framework, how sparing of his number of words. In another note, Howard says:

This would leave the acts squeezed "dry", about as
follows:--Act I, 35 minutes; Act 2, 30; Act 3, 45; Act 4,
20--total, 130--2 hrs., 10 min., curtain up: entr'acts, 25
min. Total--2 hrs., 35 min.--8:20 to 10:55.

There are a thousand extraneous considerations bothering a play that never enter into the evolution of any other form of art. After seeing W.H. Crane, who played "Peter Stuyvesant" when it was given, Howard writes Matthews of the wisdom shown by the actor in his criticism of "points" to be changed and strengthened in the manuscript.

"A good actor," he declares, "whom I always regard as an original creator in art--beginning at the point where the dramatist's pen stops--approaches a subject from such a radically different direction that we writers cannot study his impressions too carefully in revising our work." Sometimes, conventions seized the humourous side of Howard. From England, around 1883, he wrote, "Methinks there is danger in the feeling expressed about 'local colouring.' English managers would put the Garden of Eden in Devonshire, if you adapted Paradise Lost for them--and insist on giving Adam an eye-glass and a title."

Howard was above all an American; he was always emphasizing his nationality; and this largely because the English managers changed "Saratoga" to "Brighton," and "The Banker's Daughter" to "The Old Love and the New." I doubt whether he relished William Archer's inclusion of him in a volume of "English Dramatists of To-day," even though that critic's excuse was that he "may be said to occupy a place among English dramatists somewhat similar to that occupied by Mr. Henry James among English novelists." Howard was quick to assert his Americanism, and to his home town he wrote a letter from London, in 1884, disclaiming the accusation that he was hiding his local inheritance behind a French technique and a protracted stay abroad on business. He married an English woman--the sister of the late Sir Charles Wyndham--and it was due to the latter that several of his plays were transplanted and that Howard planned collaboration with Sir Charles Young. But Howard was part of American life--born of the middle West, and shouldering a gun during the Civil War to guard the Canadian border near Detroit against a possible sympathetic uprising for the Confederacy. Besides which--a fact which makes the title of "Dean of the American Drama" a legitimate insignia,--when, in 1870, he stood firm against the prejudices of A.M. Palmer and Lester Wallack, shown toward "home industry," he was maintaining the right of the American dramatist. He was always preaching the American spirit, always analyzing American character, always watching and encouraging American thought.

Howard was a scholar, with a sense of the fitness of things, as a dramatist should have. Evidently, during the collaboration with Professor Matthews on "Stuyvesant," discussion must have arisen as to the form of English "New Amsterdamers," under Knickerbocker rule, would use. For it called forth one of Howard's breezy but exact comments, as follows:

A few more words about the "English" question: As I said,
it seems to me, academical correctness, among the higher
characters, will give a prim, old-fashioned tone: and _you_
can look after this, as all my own work has been in the
opposite direction in art. I have given it no thought in
writing this piece, so far.

I would suggest the following special points to be on
the alert for, even in the _best_ present-day use of
English:--some words are absolutely correct, now, yet based
on events or movements in history since 1660. An evident
illustration is the word "boulevard" for a wide street or
road; so "avenue," in same sense, is New Yorkese and London
imitation--even imitated from us, I imagine, in Paris: this
would give a nineteenth century tone; while an "avenue lined
with trees in a bowery" would not. Don't understand that I
am telling you things. I'm only illustrating--to let you know
what especial things in language I hope you will keep your eye
on. Of course _Anneke_ couldn't be "electrified"--but you may
find many less evident blunders than that would be. She might
be shocked, but couldn't "receive a shock." We need free
colloquial slang and common expressions; but while "get out"
seems all right from _Stuyvesant_ to _Bogardus_, for _Barry_
to say "Skedadle" would put him in the 87th New York Vols.,
1861-64. Yet I doubt whether we have any more classic and
revered slang than that word.

The evident ease, yet thoroughness, with which Mr. Howard prepared for his many tasks, is seen in his extended reading among Civil War records, before writing "Shenandoah." The same "knowledge" sense must have been a constant incentive to Professor Matthews, in the preparation of "Peter Stuyvesant."

"The manual of arms," Howard declares, "is simply _great_. I
think we can get the muskets pointed at _Barket_ in about 4 or
5 orders, however; taking the more picturesque ones, so far
as may be possible. I went over the [State] librarian's letter
with a nephew with the most modern of military training: and
as I was at a military school in 1860--just two centuries
after our period--we had fun together. Even with an old
muzzle loader--Scott's Tactics--it was "Load and fire in ten
motions," _now_ antiquated with the breech-loaders of to-day.
The same operation, in 1662, required 28 motions, as
we counted. By the bye, did I tell you that I found the
flint-lock invented (in Spain) in 1625--and it "soon" spread
over Europe? I felt, however, that the intervening 37 years
would hardly have carried it to New Amsterdam; especially as
the colony was neglected in such matters."

From these excerpts it is apparent that Howard had no delusions regarding the "work" side of the theatre; he was continually insisting that dramatic art was dependent upon the _artisan_ aspects which underlay it. This he maintained, especially in contradiction to fictional theories upheld by the adherents of W.D. Howells.

One often asks why a man, thus so serious and thorough in his approach toward life, should have been so transitorily mannered in his plays, and the reason may be in the very _artisan_ character of his work. Mr. Howard delivered a lecture before the Shakespeare Society of Harvard University, at Sanders Theatre, in 1886 (later given, 1889, before the Nineteenth Century Club, in New York), and he called it "The Autobiography of a Play." In the course of it, he illustrated how, in his own play, called "Lillian's Last Love," in 1873, which one year later became "The Banker's Daughter," he had to obey certain unfailing laws of dramatic construction during the alterations and re-writing. He never stated a requirement he was not himself willing to abide by. When he instructed the Harvard students, he was merely elucidating his own theatre education. "Submit yourselves truly and unconditionally," he admonished, "to the laws of dramatic truth, so far as you can discover them by honest mental exertion and observation. Do not mistake any mere defiance of these laws for originality. You might as well show your originality by defying the law of gravitation." Mr. Howard was not one to pose as the oracle of a new technique; in this essay he merely stated sincerely his experience in a craft, as a clinical lecturer demonstrates certain established methods of treatment.

In his plays, vivacity and quick humour are the distinguishing characteristics. Like his contemporary workers, he was alive to topics of the hour, but, unlike them, he looked ahead, and so, as I have stated in my "The American Dramatist," one can find profit in contrasting his "Baron Rudolph" with Charles Klein's "Daughters of Men," his "The Henrietta" with Klein's "The Lion and Mouse," and his "The Young Mrs. Winthrop" with Alfred Sutro's "The Walls of Jericho." He was an ardent reader of plays, as his library--bequeathed to the American Dramatists Club, which he founded--bears witness. The fact is, he studied Restoration drama as closely as he did the modern French stage. How often he had to defend himself in the press from the accusation of plagiarism, merely because he was complying with the stage conventions of the moment!

It is unfortunate that his note-books are not available. But luckily he wrote an article at one time which shows his method of thrashing out the moral matrix of a scenario himself. It is called "Old Dry Ink." Howard's irony slayed the vulgar, but, because in some quarters his irony was not liked, he was criticized for his vulgarities. Archer, for example, early laid this defect to the influence of the Wyndham policy, in London, of courting blatant immorality in plays for the stage.

Howard's femininity, in comparison with Fitch's, was equally as observant; it was not as literarily brilliant in its "small talk." But though the effervescent chatter, handled with increasing dexterity by him, is now old-fashioned, "Old Dry Ink" shows that the scenes in his plays were not merely cleverly arrived at, but were philosophically digested. How different the dialogue from the notes!

This article was written in 1906; it conveys many impressions of early feminine struggles for political independence. The fact is, Mr. Howard often expressed his disappointment over the showing women made in the creative arts, and that he was not willing to let the bars down in his own profession is indicated by the fact that, during his life-time, women dramatists were not admitted as members into the club he founded.

The reader is referred to two other articles by Mr. Howard--one, "Trash on the Stage," included in the "Memorial" volume; the other, on "The American Drama," which is reproduced here, because, written in 1906, and published in a now obsolete newspaper magazine, it is difficult of procuring, and stands, possibly, for Mr. Howard's final perspective of a native drama he did so much to make known as native.

The most national of Howard's plays is "Shenandoah;" it is chosen for the present volume as representative of the military drama, of which there are not many examples, considering the Civil War possibilities for stage effect. Clyde Fitch's "Barbara Frietchie," James A. Herne's "Griffith Davenport," Fyles and Belasco's "The Girl I Left Behind Me," Gillette's "Secret Service," and William DeMille's "The Warrens of Virginia"--a mere sheaf beside the Revolutionary list which might be compiled.

According to one authority, "Shenandoah" was built upon the foundations of a play by Howard, produced at Macauley's Theatre, Louisville, Kentucky. As stated by Professor Matthews, the facts are that Howard took a piece, "Drum Taps," to Lester Wallack; who, true to his English tradition, said that if it was changed in time from the Civil War to the Crimean, he might consider it. It is certain, however, that if the cast of characters, as first given under the management of Montgomery Field, at the old Boston Museum, November 19, 1888, be compared with the program of the New York Star Theatre, September 13, 1889, it will be found that the manuscript must have been considerably altered and shifted, before it reached the shape now offered here as the authentic text. The fact of the matter is, it was not considered a "go" in Boston; we are informed that such managers as Palmer and Henry E. Abbey prophesied dire end for the piece. But Charles Frohman hastened to Boston, on the advice of his brother, Daniel, and, giving half-interest in the piece to Al Hayman, he arranged with Field for rights, procured "time" at the Star Theatre with Burnham, and, as is told in "C.F.'s" biography, hastened to Stamford, Connecticut, to talk with Howard. According to this source, he said to the playwright:

"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."

The opening night, with General Sherman in the audience, was a memorable occasion. It was the beginning of "C.F.'s" rapid rise to managerial importance, it ushered in the era of numberless road companies playing the same piece, it met with long "runs," and the royalty statements mounted steadily in bulk for Howard. It was the success of the hour.

But "Shenandoah" is undoubtedly conventional; its melodramatic effects are dependent on stage presentment rather than on the printed page. In fact, so much an artisan of the theatre was Mr. Howard that he was always somewhat skeptical of the modern drama in print. When he was persuaded to issue his last piece, "Kate," in book form, he consented to the publisher's masking it as a novel in dialogue, hoping thus, as his prefatory note states, "to carry the imagination directly to scenes of real life and not to the stage." To the last there was a distinction in his mind between literature and the drama. It is since this was written that the play form, nervous and quick, even in its printed shape, has become widely accepted.

"Shenandoah" is a play of pictorial effects and swiftly changing sentiment. Were there a national repertory, this would be included among the plays, not because of its literary quality, but because of the spirit to be drawn from its situations, framed expressly for the stage, and because of its pictures, dependent wholly upon stage accessory. It is an actable play, and most of our prominent actors, coming out of the period of the late 80's, had training in it.

THE AMERICAN DRAMA

by

BRONSON HOWARD

In considering the present standing of the American drama, compared with the time when there was little or nothing worthy of the name, the one significant fact has been the gradual growth of a body of men engaged in writing plays. Up to the time I started in 1870, American plays had been written only sporadically here and there by men and women who never met each other, who had no personal acquaintance of any kind, no sympathies, no exchange of views; in fact, no means of building up such a body of thought in connection with their art as is necessary to form what is called a school.

In what we now style Broadway productions the late Augustin Daly stood absolutely alone, seeing no other future for his own dramatic works except by his own presentation of them. Except for Daly, I was practically alone; but he offered me the same opportunity and promise for the future that he had given to himself. From him developed a school of managers willing and eager to produce American plays on American subjects. Other writers began to drop into the profession; but still they seldom met, and it was not until about 1890 that they suddenly discovered themselves as a body of dramatists. This was at a private supper given at the Lotos Club to the veteran playwright Charles Gaylor, who far antedated Daly himself. To the astonishment of those making the list of guests for that supper, upward of fifty men writing in America who produced plays were professionally entitled to invitations, and thirty-five were actually present at the supper. A toast to seven women writers not present was also honoured.

This was the origin of the American Dramatists Club. The moment these men began to know each other personally, the process of intellectual attrition began, which will probably result eventually in a strong school. That supper took place only sixteen years ago; so we are yet only in the beginning of the great movement. Incidentally, it is also necessarily the beginning of a school of dramatic criticism of that art. It is difficult to suppose that a body of critics, merely learned in the dramatic art of Europe, can be regarded as forming a school of America.

To go to Paris to finish your education in dramatic art, and return to New York and make comments on what you see in the theatre, is not to be an American dramatic critic, nor does it tend in any way to found a school of American dramatic criticism. The same is true of the man who remains in New York and gets his knowledge of the drama from reading foreign newspapers and books.

I stated in a former article in this magazine, "First Nights in London and New York," that is was only within the last twenty-five or thirty years that a comparison between the cities and the conditions had become possible, for the reason that prior to that time there was really no American drama. There were a few American plays, and their first productions did not assume the least importance as social events. As far as any comparison is possible between the early American dramatists (I mean the first of the dramatists who were the starting point in the later '60's and early '70's) and those of the present day, I think of only two important points. There was one advantage in each case. The earlier dramatists had their choice of many great typical American characters, such as represented in _Solon Shingle, Colonel Sellers, Joshua Whitcomb, Bardwell Slote, Mose, Davy Crockett, Pudd'nhead Wilson,_ and many others.

This advantage was similar in a small way to the tremendous advantage that the earliest Greek dramatists had in treating the elemental emotions; on the other hand, we earlier writers in America were liable to many errors, some of them actually childish, which the young dramatist of to-day, in constant association with his fellow playwrights, and placing his work almost in daily comparison with theirs, could not commit. To do so a man would have to be a much greater fool than were any of us; and the general improvement in the technical work of plays by young dramatists now, even plays that are essentially weak and which fail, is decided encouragement and satisfaction to one of my age who can look back over the whole movement.

The American dramatist of to-day, without those great and specially prominent American characters who stood, as it were, ready to go on the stage, has come to make a closer study of American society than his predecessors did. They are keen also in seizing strikingly marked new types in American life as they developed before the public from decade to decade.

A notable instance is the exploitation by Charles Klein of the present-day captain of industry in "The Lion and the Mouse." The leading character in the play is differentiated on the stage, as in life, from the Wall Street giant of about 1890, as illustrated in one of my own plays, "The Henrietta." Mr. Klein's character of the financial magnate has developed in this country since my active days of playwriting, and the younger dramatist was lying in wait, ready for him, and ready to seize his peculiarities for stage purposes.

Another thing is the fact that our dramatists are doing what our literary men have done, namely, availing themselves of the striking local peculiarities in various parts of the country. A marked illustration of this now before the public is Edward Milton Royle's "Squawman," recently at Wallack's Theatre. The dramatist has caught his picture just in the nick of time, just before the facts of life in the Indian Territory are passing away. He has preserved the picture for us as George W. Cable, the novelist, preserved pictures of Creole life of old New Orleans, made at the last possible moment.

I could go on mentioning many other plays illustrating phases of life and society in America, and there could be no better or more positive proof that a school of American dramatists already exists. This school will undoubtedly continue to improve in the technical quality of its work, exactly as it has done in the past, and probably with more rapidity.

The question has been discussed as to whether we are ever likely to produce an Ibsen or a Shaw, and under what conditions he would be received. As far as concerns what may happen in the future in the way of producing absolutely great dramatists and great plays, using the word 'great' in the international and historical sense, the opinion of anyone on that subject is mere guesswork and absolutely valueless.

The greatest drama in history was produced by Greece about four or five centuries before Christ, and for a few generations afterward. Since Æschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, Greece has scarcely given us anything. Aristophanes and Menander are of course remembered, but the writers who endeavoured to follow in the footsteps of the masters were of far inferior merit. The Roman Empire existed for nearly two thousand years without producing any drama of its own worthy of the name. The Romans were not a dramatic people. The works of the so-called Latin dramatists, such as those of Plautus and Terence, were mere imitations of the Greek.

France and England had sudden bursts of greatness followed by general mediocrity, with occasional great writers whose advent could not possibly have been predicted by anything in art preceding them. Even the exception to this in France, in the middle of the nineteenth century, was apparently a flash of light that disappeared almost as suddenly as it came. What is the use of posing as a prophet with such a record of the past? Anyone else is at liberty to do so. I would as soon act as harlequin. Was there any wise man in England who, twenty-four hours before that momentous event in April, 1564, could predict that a baby named William Shakespeare would be born the next day? To say that an American dramatist is to appear this year or in a thousand years who will make an epoch is simply ridiculous.

That Ibsen exercised and will exercise great influence on American dramatists there can be little doubt. His skill was no mere accident. He was the most finished development of the French school of the nineteenth century, as well as the most highly artificial individual dramatist of that school. I call it the strictly logical school of dramatic construction. I use the word 'artificial' in its more artistic sense, as opposed to the so-called natural school. His subjects of course were national, and not French. Whether his pessimism was national or personal, I have not been able to discover. It seemed to me that he was a pessimistic man dealing with a nation inclined to pessimism, but that had nothing to do with the technical qualities of the man any more than the national peculiarities of Denmark had to do with Thorvaldsen as a follower of Greek sculpture.

As to the policy of our theatre managers, I confess that they do follow each other; but it is simply because they think the leader they happen to be following has discovered a current of temporary popular taste. The authors have the same interest as the managers, and you will always find them watching the public taste in the same manner.

Occasionally an individual dramatist, and not always the best from a technical point of view, will develop such a strong personal bias as to write on subjects suggested by his own tastes, without any regard to the current of popular wishes. If he is a strong enough man he will become a leader of the public in his dramatic tastes. Sometimes in rare instances he will influence the public so decidedly that he compels the contemporary school of writers to follow him. This has been the case in all periods. I need not mention Shakespeare, as everything said about him is a matter of course.

Take the vile dramatic era of Charles II. Wycherley led the brutes, but Congreve came up and combatted with his brilliant comedies the vileness of the Restoration school, and Hallam says of him that he introduced decency to the stage that afterward drove his own comedies off it. A little after Congreve, the school, so to speak, for we have nothing but the school, was so stupid that it brought forth no great writers, and produced weak, sentimental plays. Then came Goldsmith, who wrote "She Stoops to Conquer" actually as a protest against the feeble sentimentality I have referred to. Richard Brinsley Sheridan was made possible by Goldsmith. We went on after that with a school of old comedies. When we speak of the "old comedies," I am not talking about Beaumont and Fletcher, nor Wycherley, nor Vanbrugh, nor even Congreve, but of the comedy of Goldsmith in the third quarter of the eighteenth century down to Bulwer Lytton's "Money" and Boucicault's "London Assurance," bringing us to about 1840. Then there swung a school of what we call the palmy days of old comedy, and in the '40's it dwindled to nothing, and England and America waited until the early '60's. Then came Tom Robertson with his so-called "tea-cup and saucer" school, which consisted of sententious dialogue, simple situations, conventional characterizations, and threads of plots, until Pinero and Jones put a stop to the Robertson fad.

This proves in my judgment that the school always starts by being shown what the popular taste is, and follows that, until some individual discovery that the popular taste is changed. The tendency of the school is always to become academic and fixed in its ideas--it is the individual who points to the necessary changes. Schools and these special individuals are interdependent.

As to the present comedies in America: in the first place, it is impossible as a rule to decide fully what are the tendencies of a school when one is living in the midst of its activities. There is no marked tendency now; and as far as I can see it is only the occasional man who discovers the tendency of the times. Pinero undoubtedly saw that the public was tired of the "tea-cup and saucer." Probably had he not thought so, he would have gone on in that school.

Undoubtedly more plays are written to order than are written on the mere impulse of authors, independently of popular demand. The "order" play simply represents the popular demand as understood by managers, and the meeting of that demand in each age produces the great mass of any nation's drama. So far from lowering the standard of dramatic writing, it is a necessary impulse in the development of any drama. It is only when the school goes on blindly without seeing a change in the popular taste that the occasional man I have spoken of comes on. When the work of the school is legitimately in line with the public taste, the merely eccentric dramatist is like _Lord Dundreary's_ bird with a single feather that goes in a corner and flocks all by itself. He may be a strong enough man to attract attention to his individuality, and his plays may be really great in themselves, but his work has little influence on the development of the art. In fact, there is no development of the art except in the line of popular taste. The specially great men mentioned have simply discovered the changes in the popular taste, and to a certain extent perhaps guided it.[A]

[Footnote A: Originally published in "The Sunday Magazine" (New York) for October 7, 1906.]

=BOSTON MUSEUM=

1841

FORTY-EIGHTH REGULAR SEASON

MR. R.M. FIELD, MANAGER

=SHENANDOAH=

COMMENCING MONDAY, NOV. 19, 1889.

* * * * *

Evenings at 7:45 and Wednesday and Saturday Afternoon at 2.

* * * * *

FIRST TIME ON ANY STAGE OF THIS NEW MILITARY COMEDY

=SHENANDOAH!=

Written Expressly for the Boston Museum by BRONSON HOWARD, ESQ.

Author of THE HENRIETTA, THE BANKER'S DAUGHTER, YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP, ONE OF OUR GIRLS, OLD LOVE LETTER, ETC.

WITH ENTIRELY NEW SCENERY BY LA MOSS, AND THE FOLLOWING CAST:

PEACE

COL. JOHN HAVERILL, Mr. THOS. L. COLEMAN LIEUT. KERCHIVAL WEST, Mr. JOHN B. MASON [Transcribers note: some unreadable text here] LIEUT. ROB'T ELLINGHAM, Mr. CHAS. J. BELL FRANK HAVERILL, Mr. EDGAR L. DAVENPORT EDW. THORNTON, a Southerner "by choice," Mr. WILLIS GRANGER MRS. HAVERILL Miss ANNIE M. CLARKE GERTRUDE ELLINGHAM, a Southern girl, Miss VIOLA ALLEN MADELINE WEST, a Northern girl, Miss HELEN DAYNE

WAR

MAJ. GEN. FRANCIS BUCKTHORN, Commander of the Nineteenth Army Corps Mr. C. LESLIE ALLEN BRIG. GEN. HAVERILL, { Officers } Mr. THOS. L. COLEMAN COL. KERCHIVAL WEST, { of } Mr. JOHN B. MASON CAPT. HEARTSEASE, { Sheridan's } Mr. HENRY M. PITT LIEUT. FRANK BEDLOE, { Cavalry } Mr. EDGAR L. DAVENPORT SERGEANT BARKET, Mr. GEO. W. WILSON COL. ROBERT ELLINGHAM, 10th Virginia C.S.A., Mr. CHAS. J. BELL CAPT. THORNTON, Secret Service, C.S.A., Mr. WILLIS GRANGER LIEUT. HARDWICK, Surgeon, C.S.A., Mr. GEORGE BLAKE CORPORAL DUNN, Mr. JAMES NOLAN CAPT. LOCKWOOD, Signal Officer Mr. HERBERT PATTEE BENSON, {Cavalrymen } Mr. C.B. ABBE WILKINS, { } Mr. HENRY MACDONNA LIEUTENANTS, {Cavalry} MR. H.P. WHITTEMORE {Infantry} Mr. THOS. FRANCIS MRS. HAVERILL, Miss ANNIE M. CLARKE GERTRUDE ELLINGHAM, Miss VIOLA ALLEN MADELINE WEST, Miss HELEN DAYNE JENNY BUCKTHORN, U.S.A., Miss MIRIAM O'LEARY MRS. EDITH HAVERILL, Miss GRACE ATWELL OLD MARGERY Miss KATE RYAN JANNETTE Miss HARDING

There will be no intermission between Acts THIRD and FOURTH

[Transcriber's note: Unreadable text.]

ACT FIRST

Charleston Harbor in 1861

After the ball. Residence of the Ellinghams.

The citizens of Charleston knew almost the exact hour at which the attack on Fort Sumter would begin, and they gathered in the gray twilight of the morning to view the bombardment as a spectacle.--NICOLAY, _Campaigns of the Civil War, Vol. I._

"I shall open fire in one hour."--BEAUREGARD'S _last message to_ MAJOR ANDERSON. _Sent at 3:20 A.M., April 12, 1861_.

ACT SECOND

The Ellingham Homestead in Virginia

When the Union Army under Gen. Sheridan and the Confederate Army under Gen. Early were encamped at Cedar Creek, almost twenty miles south of Winchester, there was a Confederate signal station on Three Top Mountain, overlooking both camps; [Transcriber's note: Unreadable] another, near the summit of North Mountain, on the opposite side of the valley.--_Official Records and Maps_.

ACTS THIRD and FOURTH

No Intermission between these Acts.

The Shenandoah Valley. Night and Morning. Three Top mountain.

[Transcriber's note: Unreadable text.]

While the two armies lay opposite each other, General Sheridan was called to Washington. Soon after he left, a startling despatch was taken by our own Signal Officers from the Confederate Signal Station on Three Top Mountain.--POND, _Camp. Civ. War, Vol. XI._

On the morning of October 19th, the Union Army was taken completely by surprise. Thoburn's position was swept in an instant. The men who escaped capture fled to the river. Gordon burst suddenly upon the left flank.--POND, _supra._

ACT FIFTH

Washington, 1826. Residence of Gen. Buckthorn.

_From Gen. Grant's Memoirs._

"I feel that we are on the eve of a great era when there is to be great harmony between the Federal and Confederate."

* * * * *

The Orchestra, under the direction of MR. GEORGE PURDY, will perform the following selections:--

1. Overture--Le Caïd Ambroise Thomas
2. Waltz--Ruby Royal Louis Gregh
3. Selection--War Songs Arr. by George Purdy
Introducing the following selections: Kingdom Coming, When
This Cruel War Is Over, Babylon Is Fallen, [Transcriber's note: Unreadable text], The Vacant
Chair, Tramp, Tramp, Johnny Comes Marching, Who Will Care For
Mother Now? Tenting on the Old Camp Ground, Rally Round the
Flag.
4. [Transcriber's note: Unreadable text]
5. March--[Transcriber's note: Unreadable text]

* * * * *

THANKSGIVING DAY, EXTRA SHENANDOAH MATINEE

* * * * *

SEATS SECURED TWO WEEKS IN ADVANCE DURING THE [Transcriber's note: Unreadable text] OF SHENANDOAH.

* * * * *

ACTING AND STAGE MANAGER MR. HENRY M. PITT

SHENANDOAH

_A MILITARY COMEDY IN FOUR ACTS_

_By_ BRONSON HOWARD

1897 BY BRONSON HOWARD

ALL RIGHTS INCLUDING THAT OF PERFORMANCE RESERVED

Reprinted from a privately printed edition, by permission of the Society of American Dramatists and Composers, from a copy furnished by Samuel French. It is here to be noted that the Society of American Dramatists and Composers reserves all rights in "Shenandoah."

ORIGINAL CAST OF CHARACTERS

First produced at the Star Theatre, New York City, September 9, 1889.

GENERAL HAVERILL }Officers of{ Wilton Lackaye. COLONEL KERCHIVAL WEST }Sheridan's { Henry Miller. CAPTAIN HEARTSEASE }Cavalry { Morton Selton. LIEUTENANT FRANK BEDLOE } { G.W. Bailey.

MAJOR-GENERAL FRANCIS BUCKTHORN, Commander of the 19th Army Corps Harry Harwood.

SERGEANT BARKET James O. Barrows.

COLONEL ROBERT ELLINGHAM, 10th Virginia Lucius Henderson.

CAPTAIN THORNTON, Secret Service, C.S.A. John E. Kellard.

LIEUTENANT OF SIGNAL CORPS Harry Thorn.

LIEUTENANT OF INFANTRY Geo. Maxwell.

MRS. CONSTANCE HAVERILL Dorothy Dorr.

GERTRUDE ELLINGHAM Viola Allen.

MADELINE WEST Nanette Comstock.

JENNY BUCKTHORN, U.S.A. Effie Shannon.

MRS. EDITH HAVERILL Alice B. Haines.

HARDWICK (SURGEON) W.L. Dennison.

CAPTAIN LOCKWOOD, U.S. Signal Corps C.C. Brandt.

CORPORAL DUNN W.J. Cummings.

BENSON Wm. Barnes.

OLD MARGERY Mrs. Haslam.

JANNETTE Esther Drew.

COSTUMES

HAVERILL.--Act I. Full Evening Dress.--Acts 2 and 3. Uniform of Brigadier-General, U.S. Vol., 1864. Active Service, rough and war-worn.--Act 4. Civil Costume, Prince Albert, &c.

KERCHIVAL WEST.--Act I. Full Evening Dress.--Acts 2 and 3. Uniform of Colonel of Cavalry, U.S. Vol., 1864 (with cloak in Act 3). Active Service, rough and war-worn.--Act 4. Travelling.

CAPTAIN HEARTSEASE.--Act 2. Uniform of Captain of Cavalry, 1864; as neat and precise as is consistent with Active Service.--Act 4. Afternoon; Civil.

LIEUTENANT FRANK BEDLOE.--Act 2. Lieutenant of Cavalry, 1864; Active Service. He must have a full beard.--Act 3. Same, disarranged for wounded man on stretcher.

GENERAL BUCKTHORN.--Acts 2 and 3. Major-General, 1864. Active Service.--Act 3. Same.--Act 4. Civil. Afternoon.

SERGEANT BARKET.--Acts 2 and 3. Sergeant of Cavalry, U.S. Vol., 1864. Active Service.--Act 4. Plain undress uniform, sacque or jacket.

ROBERT ELLINGHAM.--Act I. Full Evening Dress.--Act 2. Confederate Colonel: Infantry, 1864. Active Service.--Act 4. Citizen; afternoon. Prince Albert (Gray).

EDWARD THORNTON.--Act I. Riding, but not present English Cut.--Act 2. First, Confederate Captain of Cavalry. Active Service. Second costume, same, in shirt sleeves and without hat or cap.

HARDWICK.--Uniform of Confederate Surgeon, 1864. Active Service.

CORPORAL DUNN.--Uniform of rank, Cavalry, U.S. Vol., 1864. Active Service.

BENSON.--Uniform of 2nd Corporal, Cavalry, U.S. Vol., 1864. Active Service.

LIEUTENANT OF INFANTRY.--Uniform of rank, U.S. Vol., 1864. Active Service.

MRS. HAVERILL.--Act I. Full evening ball dress.--Act 4. Mourning, but not too deep.

GERTRUDE ELLINGHAM.--Act I. Riding habit.--Act 2. First costume, afternoon at home; simple enough for the South during war. Second costume, picturesque and not conventional dress and hat for riding.--Act 3. First costume of Act 2, or similar.--Act 4. Neat travelling costume.

MADELINE WEST.--Act I. Full evening ball dress.--Act 2. Pretty afternoon costume.--Act 3. Same or walking.--Act 4. Afternoon costume at home.

JENNY BUCKTHORN.--Act 2. Pretty afternoon costume, with military cut, trimmings and general air.--Act 3. Same.--Act 4. Afternoon costume at home.

MRS. EDITH HAVERILL.--Young widow's costume.

OLD MARGERY.--Neat old family servant.

JANNETTE.--Young servant.

FOR PROGRAMME

In ACT I, just before the opening of the war, HAVERILL is a Colonel in the Regular Army. KERCHIVAL WEST and ROBERT ELLINGHAM are Lieutenants in his regiment, having been classmates at West Point.