Year: 1878

from the stage by riot. lie then came
tn this country, and made his first ap-
pcarance at Petersburg, Va, in 1921, as
Richard IT., and in 1922 came ont at the
Park Theater. in New York, in the same
character. His success there was great,
and afterwards, with varying fortune, he
kept possession of the American stage
until his death, which took place on
board a steamer and on the way from New
Orleans to Cincinnati, in 1853. Small in
stature, not well formed, and with bad
points in manner and habits that were
exceedingly irregular, he had many per.
sonal disadvantages to contend with in
his profession, but such was the electric
quality of his mind that he overcame
them all. An actor less gifted would
have forfeited his popularity beyond re.
demption. He lost himself in the part
he was performing to such degree that
it bacame II sort of insanity. ltwas con,
sidered somewhat periIous to play Rich
nond to Booths Richard Ill.,, particular.
ly if he was in liquor. During the com,
bat on Bosworth field he was apt in his
excitement to consider himself in reality
the King, and cut and thrust with the
fierceness and ferocity of man in an
earnest and life-depending trial Of arms.
At such times it was necessary to disable
him, and it was in one of these "crazy
spells" that his face was dishgured for
life by an imperiled actor, the bridge of
his nose being broken by the blow de.
livered through sheer defense. No one
who ever saw the man in his great char
acter Of Richard will be likely to forget
his peculiar impersonation of the part.
1t is said he once played Orinoko with
bare feet, insisting that it was absurd to
put shoes on slave. On another occa-
sion he actually made his appearance in
Philadelphia, performing the part OF
Richard on horseback While support
ing Forrest on a certain evening at the
theatre in Pittsburgh, instead of going
upon the stage at the proper time, he
walked out and took the cars dressed and
made up for the character of an Indian
chief. One night while performing Sir
Edward Mortimer in the Iron Chest" at
Philadelphia, the manager, perceiving
his unfortunate condition, advised him to
"hnish as quickly as possible" Booth
quickly walked forward and observed;
Ladies and gentlemen, have been d-
rected by the manager to finish this as
soon as possible, and SO III finish it at
once. Here WiLford, catch me-" saying
which, and throwing himself into his
arms, he "did the dying scene," and the
curtain was rung down amid roars of
laughter.


His appetite for liquor was sometimes
absolutely yoracious. Being without
money at one time when in New York, he
went to a pawnbroker's shop, literally
pawned himself for money to purchase
liquor, was regularly ticketed and ex-
hibited in window, where he stayed
till redeemed by brother actor. On
another occasion being announced to ap-
pear in Philadelphia-at the Walnut
street theater-the manager, on the day
for the performance had Booth shut up, but
was outwitted by the actor, who bribed
the servant to bring bottle Of brandy, a
saucer, and clay pipe. Inserting the
pipe through the key hole, with the bowl
inverted, the brandy was poured into the
saucer aud suckt d up through the pipe by
the thirsty tragedian, and the fact was
disclosed when in the twilight the man.
ager proceeded there to conduct him to
the dressing. room and found him in an
insensible condition.


The very ludicrous scene which occurr-
ed at New York theater between Booth
and the celebrated "tat girl" of Barnum's
Museum is probably familiar to most of
the readers of the Times, and is perhaps
one of the most amusing incidents in the
annals Of the stage.


Booth, after being successful in Lon
don, where his professional life com
meuced, made an engagement with a
Manchester manager. Manchester then,
as now, a manufacturing town, was de-
voted largely to the production of but
tons. Booth appeared before his new
audience determined to make a hit. We
have forgotten the name of the play in
which he appearcd-enough that he
threw himself into it with his whole soul.
But, alas the house would not "come
down" His choicest efforts were thrown
away, and self-distrust began TO steal
over him. At last there came in the play
a personal set-to, into which Booth went
with such hearty zest that the cheers
and shouts thus far .repressed broke into
"A perfect storm. Booth caught the secret,
and forthwith so belabored his fellow.
actor that he fairly yelled with pain. He
then sat down in his chair, and stretching
his neck toward his audience, with face
on which was depicted the most bitter
contempt and disgust, exclaimed in way
all his own: "What do you think of
that, you low-lived button -makers7" He
was obliged to leave the stage as we'll as
the city, with mob of button makers on
his track.


Junius Brutus Booth was, in his palmy
days, par escelIence, the greatest define
ator Of the tragic muse the American
stage ever knew. In after days the "foul
fiend" betrayed him to his lure, when the
soul and the physique that entrsnced
mortals with magic spell lost its mystic
power, and the wand of the great en-
chan:er fell to the dust. Booth was his
own worst enemy, and bis love for alcohol
was his ruin of body and mind-and to
certain degree alcohol demoraliZes most