Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1888-08-30
THE STAGE.
Last Days of the Great Actor, Junins
Brutus Booth.
What is Doing and to be Done on the
Contemporary Stage.
Hit ane Miss

ment at the Park theatre was proposed
Tor the benefit Of the sufferers in that
long remembered catastrophy.
Merchant of Venice" was announced,
with the elder Booth as ShyIock aud Tom
| Flyns's pretty wife as Portia. large
audience assembled and Mr.. Booth, after
having dressed himself, disappeared inst
| as the stage manager was about to RING
up for the first act. One of the stock
actors, Clark by name, was substituted.
Flynn went IL search Of Booth, whom he
| discovered at fire on William street.
near Wall, laboring with all his strength
at the brakes of fire engine in the en-
| deavor. he said, to 'save other peoples
| property from destruction"
| Flynn took him IN cearge, and after
wards made an engagement with the SEN
Tor Walleck whom they had known in
England) for Booth and himself to play
in conjunction q week for one hundred
dollars a night.
At the termination of that engagement
with Walleek, Booth and Flynn embarked
on the steamer Neptune for the south, on
professional tour. After they had been
at sea few days, Booth went to Flynn
with an air of profound mystery and
said: "Elynn, when we reach the spot
| where poor Conway was lost at sea, tell
me, as have 8 message for him."
William Augustus Conway, q very com.
| peoent tragedian and an old friend Of
| Booths had some time before that com
mitted suicide by throwing himself into
the sea from the deck OF a vessel.
I'll go below" added Booth, 'and try
to sleep. Tom don't forget to call me
when we reach the spot, for Z long to
hsve chat with Conway"
OF course Flynn did not disturb his
cratic friend, but when the steamer
| reached the bar OF Charleston up came
Booth, exclaiming, "I'm just going TO see
Conway" and leaped overheard. The sea
vas running high, but boat lowered, and
with the greatest difficulty Booth was
| saved from a tragic death,
After he had been secured in the boat,
his first words we're: 81 say, Tom, look
out. You're q heavy man; be steady, for
| if the boat should upset we'd all be
| drowned
About . O'Clock one morning during that
Charleston engagement Booth found his
way to Hymns room at the Planters
Hotel. The room was on the ground
floor and Booth got in by climbing
through a window. He went straight to
the chimney piece, armed himself with a
| cast iron fre-dog and inflicted severe
wound over Fiynn'5 right eye.
Flynn sprang from his bed Mortified
and saw his friend in the act of aiming a
second blow, which, in trying TO avoid, he
received over the left eye. Finding that
he YES face to face with q madman, Flynn
escaped from the Room with Booth IN hot
pursuit. They finally grapPled and fell,
the herculean strength Of Booth giving
him the advantage. In the melee Booth
( received blow Whica broke his nose and
[ permanently disfgured his noble counte
nance.
With this event his theatrical career
practically ended. He continued TO act
spasmodicaly few years longer, and
often manifested some OF the fire and
energy of his youthful days, but his face
had been despoiled OF It's beauty and his
matchless voice mad taken on nasal
tone.
During the last ten years Of his life,"
says his daughter, Asia Booth Clarke, che
passed considerable portion OF his time
in the midst of his family, occasionally
making professional tonrs with careless
disregard of fame, which may be &C
counted for by the depressing conscious
! ness of the accident which had marred
his face and voice. Still he played annu-
ally IN Boston and New Orleans, IN which
| places he was an established favorite.
He INDUCED his philanthropio inclina
tions unrestrainediy, and the particulars
Of some charitable visit Or donation
would frequently be disclosed to the
| family by toe grateful recipient. Little
| deeds Of kindness were of almost daily
| occurrence with him. He delighted to
seek cut tho destitute and unfortunate
and aid them by sympathy as well as by
his bounty"
Nh Booths last New York appearance
was at the old National Theater, Septem-
Der 10, 1851, when he played ShyIock and
Mr.. Edward Mortimer.
In June, 1852, he went to California,
where he attracted OVERLOOKING houses.
In the autumn of that year. he suddenly
resolved to return East. He had fire.
quentiy expressed his intention to retire
from active life and as a sad intimation
that the ide1 weight with him he gave
Richards diadem to his eldest son, cay
ing shat he would never need it again.
He had engaged passage on the Brother
Jonathan and on the morning of starting,
while anxiously experimenting the ship
ping of his baggage, he was annoyed by
sailor who was doing the work, and kind
ly urged the man to show more elacrity.
Observing, however, that he obstinately
moved slower, and was disposed to be in
soIent. Mr.. Booth sharply inquired:
s'What are you employed for? VINO are
your"
The seaman, with vicious look, gruf-
! Iy replied: Il am thief"
Mr. Booth, with quick intuition Of
character, instantly responded: Give me
your hand comrade, 9m pirate"
The fellow looked abashed, yet, evident
~ recognizing Superior spirit, extended
his hand in silence.
Mr.. Booth landed at New Orleans,
where ne stayed six nights. His last ap
pearance on any stage was at the ST.
Charles theatre, New Orleans, Friday eve
ming. November 10, 1852, when he was
seen as Sir Edward Mortimer, in 'fThe
Iron Chest" and as John Lump, in the
musical farce, "Review or the Wag of
Windsor" His support on that occasion
included Maggie, Kemble, Mark Smith,
Ben De Bar, Mrs. Stone, Estelle Potter
and Mrs. Howall.
Being greatly exhausted after the per-
Torrance, it is conjectured that he con-
tracted g cold, which rapidly grew worse
He TOOK passage for Cincinnati on the
steamer J. S. Chenoweth, and becoming
IL a few days very feverisb, he drank
freely of the Mississippi water, which
aggravated his melady. There was no
physician on board and he would not
trouble the captain TO procure the at
tendance Of one, but with that patient
endurance which had ever characterized
hir, bore his sufferings uncomplainingly
and alone His disease turned to con-