Chromeles of the Cape Fear Rwer

JOSEPH JEFFERSON.

(From the Autobiography of Joseph Jefferson.)

After mentioning that he had engaged a comedian, Sir Wil-
liam Don, an English nobleman six feet six inches tall, Jeffer-
son wrote:

“Sir William went with us to Wilmington, North Carolina,
where we opened with the stock, he appearing at the beginning
of the second week. The audience here did not like his acting;
they seemed to prefer our domestic goods to the imported article.
He saw this, but did not seem to mind it, and so bowed to the
situation. He became very much attached to the company and
remained with us some time, joining in our fishing and boating
parties. His animal spirits were contagious; and as we had no
rehearsals, the mornings at least were devoted to amusement.
We would do the most boyish and ridiculous things. Three or
four of us, himself the central figure, would go through extrava-
gant imitations of the circus and acrobatic feats that were then
in vogue. The Bounding Brothers of the Pyrenees was a par-
ticular favorite with him. We would pretend to execute the
most dangerous feats of strength—-lifting imaginary weights,
climbing on one another’s shoulders, and then falling down in
grotesque and awkward attitudes, and suddenly straightening
up and bowing with mock dignity to an imaginary audience.
Once he did an act called The Sprite of the Silver Shower, pre-
tending to be a little girl, and tripping into the circus ring with
a mincing step. Then, with a shy look, he would put his finger
in his mouth, and mounting a table would go through a dar-
ing bareback feat. Nothing that I ever saw was more extrav-
we SS

“The next fall, 1852, we resolved to make another trial of
our fortunes in the Southern circuit. Our limited means com-
pelled us to adopt the most economical mode of transportation
for the company. It was settled, therefore, that we, the mana-
gers, should arrive at least a week in advance of the opening
season; our passage must be by rail, while the company were to
proceed by sea. ‘There was in those days a line of schooners
that plied between Wilmington, N. C., and New York. The
articles of transportation from the South consisted mainly of
yellow pine tar and resin, which cargo was denominated ‘naval
stores.’ Feeling confident that we could procure passage for our

Interesting Memories 263

company by contracting with one of these vessels to take them
to Wilmington, we determined to conclude a bargain with the
Owners. ‘T'he day was fixed for their departure, and Mr. Ellsler
and I went down to the wharf at Peck Slip to see them off. It
was an ill-shaped hulk, with two great, badly repaired sails
flapping against her clumsy and foreboding masts. The deck
and sides were besmeared with the sticky remnants of her last
importation, so that when our leading actor, who had been seated
on the taffrail, arose to greet his managers, he was unavoidably
detained. There was handsome John Crocher, our juvenile
actor, leaning with folded arms and a rueful face against an
adhesive mast; Mrs. Ray, the first old woman, with an umbrella
in one hand and a late dramatic paper in the other, sitting on a
coil of rope, and unconsciously ruining her best black dress,
etc., etc. It was a doleful picture. Our second comedian, who
was the reverse of being droll on the stage, but who now and
then ventured on a grim joke off it with better success, told me
in confidence that they all had been lamenting their ill-tarred
fate. As we watched the wretched old craft being towed away
to sea, we concluded that we should never forgive ourselves if
our comrades were never heard of again. On our arrival in
Wilmington the days were spent in preparing the dusty old
rat-trap of a theatre for the opening, and our nights in wonder-
ing if our party were safe. The uneasiness was not lessened,
either, by the news that there had been bad weather off Hatteras.
Within a week, however, they arrived, looking jaded and miser-
able. Another week for rest and rehearsal, and our labors began.

“Comedy and tragedy were dished up, and I may say, hashed
up, alternately, as, for instance, Monday, Colman’s comedy of
The Poor Gentleman, fancy dances by the soubrette, comic
Songs by the second comedian, concluding with the farce of The
Spectre Bridegroom. The next evening we gave Romeo and
J uliet. I felt that the baleony scene should have some atten-
tion, and I conceived a simple and economical idea that would
enable me to produce the effect in a manner ‘hitherto unparal-
leled in the annals of the stage.’ Skirmishing about the wharves
and the ship-chandlers, I chanced to light upon a job lot of
“mpty candle boxes. By taking a quantity the cardboards were
thrown in, and nothing makes a finer or more imposing but un-
substantial balustrade than cardboard. The boxes, placed one
by one on top of each other and painted a neat stone color, form
a pleasing architectural pile. The scene opened with a backing