Evening star., 1902-01-04

I Stuart Robson's personal representative,
| William Raymond Sill, yesterday. Here in
! Washington 1 have heard dozens Of men
| say, in speaking of things theatrical, Poor
| old John Mccullough. What an actor he
was, and what pity he should have died
so awful death. Washington loved John
! Mccullough
| Until the other day continued Mr.. Sill,
/ 81 shared the popular belief that McCul-
/ Tough died raving maniac. I had listen
| ed, In common with thousands of others,
! to the words recorded In Photographs
| which purported to be the rawlings of the
/ great tragediar and never doubted for an
instant but that 1t was McCullough's voice
| I heard.
! But Mr.. Robson the other day disabused
| my mind of this as in company with his
manager, Daniel V. Arthur, we sat chat
! ting. L am glad to be able to tell this story,
because l know it will please the many
| friends and admirers Mccullough had in
/ Washington. This is the story in Mr. Rob-
| sons own words, as nearly as l can recall
| them:
! :" Mccullough died like a child that had
| fallen asleep His mind gave way grad
! ually The so-caIled rawlings OF John Nc
1 Cuifough, in which speeches from ''Vir-
! glnius were hurled into monographs, were
| done by an actor of the second class whose
/ defamation no more resembIed that of the
! great Mccullough than does the cry of an
| eagle resemble that of a katydid 1t was
a shameful. cruel thing for man to do; !;
| 10 sell himself to money-making crew by
| masqueradfng as John Mccullough. The COM
| pany which exploited these counterfeit raw
/ tngs made profit of $4,000 in ten months,
] while the actor gained $500 by his infamy
| " Three of US saw McCullough's mind
/ faiing-the late Billy Florence the late.
capt Connor and myself. We first noticed
| 1t In his conversation. He would say some
! thlng absolutely witless and laugh uproar-
| lCGsly. One day we called in physicians at
| the old st. James Hotel New York. which
Capt Connor owned They told us Johns
/ mind was gone. Two days later we took
him for drive and our path led us to
/ Blcomlngdale asylum. I recall how the
physician-in-chief of that institution met
| Us, bowling low to John, who seemed fatter-
| ed at the homage paid him.
! 1t has been the dream of my life to
! entertain you at my home Mr.. McCul-
| lGugh, said the physician, flor I have al
| ways regarded you as the greatest of act
| ors, and as John threw back his shoulders
proudly the doctor whispered to Florence
and myself: myself, IT,
think he is a guest of honor at my house
| and then leave him one by one. / will do
! the rest"
| I'VE did as the doctor bade us, Florence
Connor and I. but it so happened that
! left the room first, Connor next and Flor
| ence last. Florence came out to the car
! riage weeping. He told us John realized he
| was being deserted by his friends and was
1 an inmate Of a madhouse. We drove
J away very solemn group.
| . A few days later l called at the asylum
| The doctor told me that five minutes after
| our departure that day John had forgotten
US and resumed his buoyant spirits. 1 was
! shown to his rooms. 1t needed nothing of
| medical science to tell me that his end was
| no. far off. I saw that strange gleam in
| his eyes which tells of brain that gropes
| in the dark. All at once 1T came to me
! an inspiration / have always thought it
| to remind him of his home in Philadelphia
| and of his wife, whom he had always loved
| despite their separation, and / said to
I him:
AGAIN. " '''
He smiled one of those rare, sweet
smiles of his and the glaze of clouded in
| telect passed from his eyes. Then he
stretched forth a wan hand, and with the
| voice of reason in every syllable, he said:
Yes, Stuart. old friend, take me
home
And we took him home the next day.
| He recognized the wife he had married
| many years before, and his end was as
| peaceful as-weIl, remember seeing child
/ pluck1ng daisies in a broad pasture and
the sun was hot. and the child grew tired
and sank among the tall grasses and was
/ asleep"
Mccullough grew tired, too; the sun
! was hot; he fell among the tall grasses
| and fell asleep"
| reginald De Koven, the composer of
| Maid Marian in conversation with Star
| reporter yesterday, expressed his views con-
| cerning the outlook for comic opera in this
| country. Said he:
| Il am convinced that there Is no reason
| why the very light style of musical inter
| probation now in vogue where the accent
is generally on the comedy, with more or
| less music generally on the side should
| drive out legitimate forms of light opera
so long popular in this and other countries.
| In this legitimate form the music and story
| move along in unison and harmony, and
! are blended into an artistic whole.
| Opera Is really unnatural, although il
| Is conceivable that certain emotions nat
| urally express themselves musically The
! earliest operas We're all written without
| recitative-that Is, with dialogues to con-
! meet musical numbers, and these forms are
much more natural. However, there Is no
! reason why light opera, where the musical
| numbers are connected by dialogue should
not be as legitimate and artistic compost
tions as the heavier work, where there is
| nothing but music. 1 am, for one, of the
| opinion that very soon there will be a re-
! newal of public interest In this form of
| musical composition. Think of the. popu-
| larity which legitimate light operas like
| The Grand Duchess The Merry War
| The Beggar Student The Gypsy Baron,
| and others of the same class enjoyed In
this country few years ago. And in this
| nation of constantly advancing culture
| shaH we admit We have retrograded rather
than advanced?
This brings me to the second postulate-
| the adequacy of Interpretation This is
| really the crux of the matter for the COM
| poser of light opera today, the difficulty of
| obtaining intelligent Interpretation of his
| ideas. am free TO say that at the present
juncture I hardly should dare to write
] so light piece as Maid Marian for any
| company in the country except the Bosto-
mans. But their clientele expect from this
OLD organization certain class of work
| and It Is just that class that I have en-
deayored to provide for. / never wrote an
opera. not even Robin Hood with more
freedom and ease than / have written
| Maid Marian Although I began to sketch
| for the piece in February, did not heeln
to write until 1 had finished The T.ftfIe
Duchess for Miss Held in June, and I de-
liyered everything complete the longest
orchestra score / ever wrote, on Septem-
Der l."
X X
In the opera Maid Marian one of the
principal episodes OF the second act is an
oriental dance by Amina, snake ei1armer.
who. surrounded by group of Arabs, be-
gins her srake charming. This leads up to
a song by Maid Marian, one of the beau
tifuI numbers of this opera and spns hy