Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1881-05-19
never known her brilliant genius.


She once remarked 20 friend who was
cognIzant of the circumstances: when |
see him now, rich and respected. but not
great, and think what a good husband
he had made, sigh for what have lost
and rejoice for what Ihave gained. Never
theless, fame and fortune only cannot COM
pensate a woman for the lifelong absence
of a husbands affection, chlldren's love,
and the peace and happiness of private
life. When returned from New Orleans
with my voice all gone and in despair. If
he had come forward then and offered me
a home, / would gladly have accepted it,
and would have lived my life untroubled
by ambitious dreams, unsuspecting the
divine afilatus within me. | have had q
thousand times over in my hand more than
the money which would have secured my
happiness when girl, and Away think for
what paltry sum nv whole domestic
happiness was sacrificed
After Miss Cushman had achieved fame
in England, she made a tour TO this coun-
try. She was then a woman of middle age,
with a remarkably ugly face, but with a
tall and well.modeled frame. She played
at the National theatre, Cincinnati. Conrad
b. Clarke was the leading man, many
years her junior. He had been brought
up as gentleman, being the son of a
Quaker in Philadelphia. He soon evinced
liking for the stage, and nothing could
keep him from it. AS for theatrical talent,
he had not mistaken his vocation. Miss
Cushman was struck with his polish and
wit, his talent and cultured tone. From
conversation on acting in the theatre, Clarke
soon began TO call al the hotel to receive
particular instructions in the parts he was
TO play with her, then he escorted her home
from the theatres at nights, and 1t was
plainly TO he seen she looked with marked
favor upon the young actor. One evening
she was at the wing, ready TO 60 on as Meg
Merriles, playing the boy IN Guy Man
nering' was standing by her side, and
Mr.. Clarke was few steps of, flirting
desperat ely with lovely young actress,
who had been christened the poodle dog
from the way she dressed her hair, which
was just as they wear it nowadays, but
then thought wild, crazy style. The star
had been giving me few stage directions,
and, impelled by know not what impulse,
| suddenly asked:
'What, OF all things In the world, Miss
Cushman, would you rather be?
She replied as impulsively, glancing at
Clarke and signing:
4 would rather be pretty woman than
anything else in this wide world, and on
the stage she rushed to shrek through Meg
MerrllIes. After this he assumed bolder
front, firted no more about the scenes, and
became obsequiously attentive to her. 1t
became the recognized fact that he was the
great stars protege, and next it transpired
that she had engaged him TO 60 TO England
with her. THIS was happy period for
them both. Frankness being one of her
chief characteristics, she made no secret
OF her admiration of mis- talents and liking
for him personally, and of her intention
toward his interests 50 far as lay within
her power. Whether she loved him as she
loved another In her girlhood days is diff
cult to determine, but her manners became
more gentle and womanlike, she was less
iInperious with her underlings and spared
a great deal OF time teaching MIN his paris.
HIS feelings were easier prcbed; Conrad
Clarke did not love Charlotte Cushman.
His nature was tOo selfish to permit him to
feel so pure and dIsinterested passion as
love in its highest sense. Matters had thus
stood for some months.
One evening Miss Cushman was going to
the theatre alone, when weak, haggard-
looking woman approached her with baby
in her arms. She was a small, red-haired,
fragile creature. Laying her hand on Miss
Cushman's arm, she said
EM,co C,chpoor I fhipl- yupYnan of
your genius andposition might have plenty
of admirers without taking up with the hus-
band of poor woman like me-
The tragcdienne paused in blank amaze
ment.
Are you talking to me9' she asked.
i am
And you say have taken your hus-
band from youf'
'Yes--you-Charlotte Cushman,
& don't know you; may | ask the name
of this precious husband of yOursf
Conrad Clarke, was the reply.
The great actress hurried away. She
had received blow, but she met it with
brave front, as she had many others in
her not altogether smooth path in life. All
smiles, bows, and honeyed words Clarke
greeted her that night. She gave death
blow to all his hopes, not tenderly, as
many woman so situated might have
done, but with characteristic decision. On
learning from his wife what she had done,
he became furious al what he declared to
be q malicious scheme TO ruin him, and,
leaving her, swore never to live with her
again. Annie Clarke easily obtained a
6ivOroa from, him and chortlv after mar
ried an actor, named Forest, of Cleveland.
BY strange concatenation of circum-
stances, Clark's child was adopted and
most tenderly reared by one of our bright
est wits, The only one of his peculiarly
caustic kind left, man who wields
powerful weapon in his pen-who has two
parties for and against him-one that mates
and fears him, the other That loves and
praises HIM.