In 1917, Thomas G. Moses wrote, “I went to Fox Lake on
Decoration Day, official opening. I had
a new cot sent up and it was certainly an improvement over the old one. I actually rest now and enjoy going up.”
Decoration Day honored the deceased, with soldiers decorating the graves of their fallen comrades; flowers, flags and wreaths ornamented headstones. The day became known as Memorial Day. This also became the official opener for summer, marking travel to summer homes, cabins and resorts.
The Palette & Chisel Club’s summer home was on Fox Lake.
Only 55 miles northwest of Chicago, the picturesque area provided artists with
a retreat to escape the summer heat in Chicago.
The day set apart for commemorating the deeds of the nation’s
honored dead loses none of its patriotic significance as the years come and go.
While it is becoming less of a day of mourning than in the years when the grief
over the losses of the civil war was still fresh, its patriotic scope is
widening. Another war has also intervened and left its quota of new graves to
be decorated reverently with flowers and hags. Far off, in the Philippines
there are rows of mounds that will be draped today with the Stars and Stripes
and the day will be observed in Cuba and Porto Rico. By strewing upon the water
it is proposed the part played by the navy in fighting the battles of the
nation. There is an added impressiveness in the thought that the Memorial day
exercises are being observed simultaneously not only from one side of the
continent to the other, but also in islands of the sea on opposite sides of the
globe.
Chicago has always paid especial attention to Memorial day,
and today the usual impressive parade will be seen, with the civil war veterans
and their time-honored flags in the place of honor at the van. There is
inspiration as well as sadness in the sight of this dwindling band of old
soldiers in each city and town as they go forth each year to decorate the
graves of the comrades who fell in battle so many years ago. But as their ranks
grow thinner there are stronger escorts of the younger generation to take up
the old banners and defend the things for which the others fought.
One of the most valuable features of the Memorial day
exercises is the part connected with the public schools. Patriotic Speeches,
tableaux, and the singing of national anthems in all the Chicago schools
yesterday ushered in the present holiday. The impulses of patriotism stirred in
eager young minds by these exercises are worth more for securing the future
safety and perpetuity of the union than a great standing army. When it is
remembered that the same spirit of devotion to the flag now animates the South
as well as the North, there is every reason to look forward with high hope and
confidence to the great future before the nation. While Memorial day is a time
for a backward glance it is also a day for a hopeful and confident outlook upon
the future.”
In 1917, Thomas G. Moses wrote,
“Pitt came out for a short visit and for the first time in twenty years, we had
only the four children at home for a dinner.
They were not allowed to mention their families. We sat each in their accustomed place. We all enjoyed it immensely. It carried us back many years when we were
all much younger. I wish we could do it
every year.”
Moses wrote this in the spring
of 1917; he was sixty-one years old at the time. His children ranged in age
from twenty-eight to thirty-eight years old and the United States was preparing
to enter World War I. Just a few months
later, we would enter the fray and family dinners would become creative tales
on rationed foods. I will say that if the “homemakers” ran the world, they
would plan ahead and there would be no shortages of food or supplies. Those in
charge of children and managing homes have to plan for every event or disaster
that Mother Nature throws at them, intimately understanding how to stretch
rations. Unfortunately in 1917, woman were still unable to vote.
Different times have different
demands. What was once scarce is now attained without restriction. I first
began to panic about the current pandemic when I encountered when no flour or
rice at our local grocery store. It was a wake up call for me. I now sit at
home, planning, shopping and cooking for both my own family and my parents
during COVID-19. I am a planner; I know how to grow food, the canning process
and stretching small amounts of meat for a week. This is not the case for many
around the world and we will all find ourselves living next to those who have
not. Family dinners are important. Think about your next door neighbors and
check in on them. It is time to pay it forward, especially if you have the
means and are able to gather your loved ones together for a meal.
Supply and demand is affected during
many events or disruptions in distribution.
The demands also change from decade to decade. In 1917 red meat and
white flour were among the precious commodities that we shipped overseas,
causing demand to outweigh supply on the home front.
On April 6, 1917, the United
States of America entered WWI. By the fall of 1917, an increasing number of meat-free
and other helpful recipes appeared in newspapers. A caption next to “War Bread
Recipes” announced “Remember Jack Spratt. Why serve the fat to those who don’t
care for it? The trimmings saved from slices of ham will shorten gingerbread” (“Herald
and Review,” Decatur, Illinois, page 18). Yesterday, I read an internet post
that stated we will now all understand why our great grandmothers washed used
foil and saved bacon fat.
“War Bread Recipes” accompanied the heading, “Meatless Day No Bugbear With These Recipes.” An entire page was devoted to cooking with limited supplies; great recipes for vegetarians by the way. The “War Bread” article noted, “Because graham, bran and whole wheat are flours made from wheat, many housewives have been wondering if they are being disloyal by using breads made from these flours on wheatless days. They are not, because the Government does not prohibit the use of these coarser flours. They are note shipped to Europe. Only the white flour, which has better keeping qualities, is shipped there, and the coarser, darker flours may be used here as substitutes for white flour. Wholewheat flour is the fine, clean, and sound product made by grinding wheat without the removal of more than 1 per cent of the wheat in the form of bran. Graham flour is the unbolted wheat flour made from clean, sound wheat in the form of bran. Bran flour is made up of the broken coat of seed of wheat separated from the flour by sifting and bolting. It is the coarse, chaffy part of ground wheat. Bakers in Decatur are using these coarse flours considerably well. Local bakers said that last week that but little change in the taste of breads would be noticed when the new recipe Herbert Hoover is sending out is used.”
On September 9, 1917, the
“Chicago Tribune Cookbook” included a section on fish and potatoes for the
family dinner (page 2). A pescatarian’s delight today. The article reported,
“It is again going to be a point of honor in our country to eat fish in certain
amounts, if not on certain days. Possibly presented food conditions would lead
us to eat it any day instead of on a church day. Many a grandmother of ours
answered the question, “What shall we have for dinner”” by saying “Fish and
potatoes.” And in the days when it was appoint of honor to serve the sacred cod
even at dinner parties there originated a number of food dishes that are just
as attractive today as then.”
Early in 1917, Thomas G. Moses
wrote, “Did “Faust” for Sheehan and Beck, very complete.” Moses was referring
to Joseph Sheehan and Edward M. Beck. The scenery was for a summer touring
production. In 1917, Beck was managing the Boston Opera Company and Sheehan was
performing with the group.
The Boston Opera Company
selected “Faust” for their special limited tour of Canada, with Joseph Sheehan
playing the title role (“Ottawa Citizen,” 12 June 1917, page 7). On June 11,
1917, the “Ottawa Journal” reported, “From a standpoint of product The Boston
English Opera Company has excelled all previous efforts. Special attention has
been given that every detail is carried out to perfection making the scenic
picture one of rare beauty. There are few operas which give the opportunities
for beautiful stage setting which ‘Faust’ does; its different scenes all
picturesque to the extreme and full advantage has been taken to make this end of
the production on a par with its wonderful artists which comprise the Boston
English Opera Company” (page 11).
Of Sheehan’s performance, the
“Ottawa Journal” commented, “As Faust, Mr. Sheehan is at his best. His voice
meets its every requirement, and those who have heard the great American tenor
have noticed that strain of sentiment in his work which has made his
impersonation of Faust one of the best, if not the best, in his extensive
repertoire” (2 June 1917, page 21). Nelli Gardini played the role of Marguerite.
Moses first encountered Sheehan when he performed with the
Aborn Grand Theatre Company. In 1910, Sosman & Landis delivered scenery for
their production of “Madame Butterfly,” with Sheehan performing the role of
Pinkerton. That year Thomas G. Moses wrote, “We did an elaborate set for Mme.
Butterfly for the Aborn Opera Company at McVicker’s.” The “Gibson City Courier”
noted the production’s “special scenery of unusually beautiful design” (6 May
1910, page 6). Moses provided another “Madame Butterfly” for the Sheehan Opera
Company of Chicago in 1911. In advertisements, Sheehan was billed as America’s
Greatest Tenor and Famous Opera Star” (“Akron Beacon,” 5 April 1913, page 8).
He toured the company, starring in a series of operas that appeared in not only
large metropolitan areas, but also many small towns.
Sheehan continued as a repeat
customer at Sosman & Landis after he partnered with Edward M. Beck. In
1913, Thomas G. Moses wrote, “Sheehan and Beck dropped in with ‘Bohemian
Girl.’” The Sheehan English Opera Co. production of “The Bohemian Girl” was on
tour of 1913. Sheehan and Beck were in Chicago with the production when made a
point of visiting Sosman & Landis about another project.
Another Sheehan-Beck production
with Sosman & Landis scenery that toured in 1913 was “Salome.” Of the
production, Moses wrote, “We turned out a big production of ‘Salome’ for
Sheehan and Beck – some very effective scenes.
A good portion of the contract price never saw our office – one bad
feature about shows that don’t go.” And then all was quiet for a few years,
until Sheehan and Beck contacted Moses again about scenery for “Faust.”
In regard to the 1917 production of “Faust,” the Boston English Opera Company revived “Faust” at the Strand Theater in Chicago after the summer tour (Chicago Tribune, 14 October, page 37). The Musical Courier reported, “Inasmuch as Chicago has not had a season of opera in English for several years and in view of the fact that this city has had an almost marvelous growth as a music center in the last few years, the announcement that the Boston English Opera Company has been incorporated to present a season of opera in the vernacular at the Strand Theatre, beginning Monday, October 1, will be of unusual interest to music lovers and music students. Edward M. Beck, who has had wide experience in the organization in the organization and management of English opera companies throughout the United States and Canada, has been engaged as a general manager of the new organization. Mr. Beck did not conclude to launch this enterprise until he had made a very careful investigation of the situation in which he found that there seems to be a great demand for English opera. (Musical Courier, Weekly Review of the World’s Music, Aug. 4, 1917). Of the performance, “Musical America” reported, “Joseph F. Sheehan, as Faust, astonished everyone by his singing, doing as well as he ever did in his palmiest days. His voice was full and rich, His phrasing and musicianship were above reproach, and he took the high C of “All Hail, Thou Dwelling” with perfect ease and rich tone” (Vol. XXVL, No. 26, October 27, 1917, page 32).
In 1917, Thomas G. Moses wrote,
“April 18th, I went to Detroit and closed with Hoffmans for their
new Colonial Theatre, $3,800.00, and the Palace Theatre, all new scenery at
$2,000.00. Another good days work. I rested a day, then went home.” Moses was referring to past clients C. A. and Graham Hoffman. On
February 15, 1914, the “Detroit Free Press,” reported that Sosman & Landis
delivered the scenery for the New Palace Theater. The “Detroit Free Press”
announced, “Scenery is the Best. The scenery is from the Sosman & Landis
studio of Chicago, leaders in the art, and for particular reasons the work is
extraordinary.”
There are few things to consider
about Sosman & Landis Scene Painting Studio in 1917. The first is repeat
customers. The firm delivered
stock scenery to Palace theatres in Chicago (1912), Minneapolis (1914), and
Fort Wayne, Indiana (1914) and Detroit (1914). Once they secured a
contract, the client is far more likely to come back if they needed something
else, and they did. Sosman & Landis a quality product, on time, every time,
and prompting repeat customers. Their business model relied upon this.
It all began to change by 1920. The
proverbial rug became pulled out from under the feet of the firm. I have
noticed that after WWI, there is a shift in the industry; theater owners begin
to care less about the quality of new scenery and are more concerned with the
bottom line. The phrase, “good enough for who its for” comes to mind. In other words, the painted aesthetic begins
to shift as a second-tier of scenic studios pops up and begins to produce
scenery on a mass-scale. The second-tier studio offers an inferior product at a
cheaper price. Some of the artistic demands begin to diminish the there is an
increased use of fabric draperies in lieu of painted drops. In many cases the
“art” aspect of scenery becomes a “craft,” allowing those with less artistic
experience to easily complete projects. Stencil patterns replace pictorial
painting on front curtains at many entertainment venues. This trend is closely
associated with rise of combination houses and strict cinemas.
Many new theatres during the
second decade of the twentieth century also took film into consideration.
Sosman & Landis had a significant amount of work for combination houses at
this time. Sosman & Landis got a foot in the door delivering picture
settings that featured a central projection area amidst a painted composition.
This type of project featured the studios high-end painting skills while
adapting to new technologies – photoplays, moving pictures, silent films, or
you name what constitutes entertainment.
Another aspect to consider concerns
is the continued increase and power of theatrical circuits; multiple venues
managed by a single organization. It is easier to contract one company for all
of your stages, than look for a new scenic studio each time. In 1917 Sosman
& Landis were able to benefit from multiple theatre chains such as Palace
theaters in the Orpheum circuit.
In 1917, Thomas G. Moses
recorded that Sosman & Landis delivered “a number of new drops for the
Palace, Milwaukee.” Sosman & Landis had previously delivered scenery to
Palace Theatres in Fort Wayne, Indiana, and Detroit, Michigan. As with other
chains, such as Fox theaters, there were multiple Palace Theatres all over the
country.
The entry in Moses’ memoirs for
this Milwaukee project was early in 1917.
The theater was located on 535
W. Wisconsin Avenue in Milwaukee. On February 19, 1917, the “Post-Crescent”
reported, “Cigarette Fire. Stub starts blaze that partly destroys the Palace
Theatre at Milwaukee today.” The International New Service announced, “Fire
said to have originated from a cigarette stub left in the audience caused
$10,000 damage to the new Palace theatre here early this morning. The house ran
popular vaudeville and will be closed for several days pending renovation”
(page 1).
It remains unclear whether any of
the stage or scenery were damaged during the fire.
The venue was designed by local architects Charles Kirchoff
and Thomas Rose. The pair later designed the Palace Theatre in New York (1918),
as well as many other venues that included the American Theatre, Colonial
Theatre, Garden theatre, Majestic Theatre, New Star theatre, Rialto Theatre,
and Riverside Theatre. The only A detailed description of interior is posted at
http://cinematreasures.org/theaters/4067,
noting three eras for the venue.
In 1917, Thomas G. Moses wrote,
“Got a $1,430.00 contract from the Murat Theatre.”
Sosman & Landis previously
provided scenery for the Ancient Arabic Order of the Nobles of the Mystic
Shrine in Indianapolis, Indiana.
The Shrine building was named for
the Nubian desert oasis Bin Murat. Bin Murat was named after Napoleon’s general
Joachim Murat during his Egyptian campaign. The Murat Shrine in Indianapolis was
located at the corner of Massachusetts Avenue and New Jersey Street. The theater
officially opened on March 1. By March 3, 1910, “The Waterloo Press” included a
lovely article on the new structure in an article entitled “New Murat Theatre
Opens” (page 2). The article reported, “The Murat Theatre, contained in what is
said to be the most elaborate Mystic Shrine temple in the United States, was
opened at Indianapolis, Ind., under the management of the Schubert Theatrical
Producing Company. The temple, completed, will cost $250,000, but only the
theatre has been finished. James T. Powers and his company, in the musical
comedy, ‘Havana,’ gave the first performance in the theatre. Only the members
of the Mystic Shrine were admitted but the subsequent performances will be
public. The theatre is decorated with mural pictures representing camel
caravans passing through a desert and approaching an oasis, and with other
allegorical paintings symbolic of the significance of the Mystic Shrine.” The
Schuberts leased the theater from 1910 to 1930. In 1910 Sosman & Landis
also provided stock scenery for the Schuberts’ newly acquired Great Northern
Theatre in Chicago.
Over the years, the building was known as the Murat Shrine Temple, Murat Shrine Theatre, Murat Theatre, and Old National Centre. It is now called the Murat Theatre at Old National Centre, located at North and New Jersey Street in Indianapolis. Noted at the oldest stage house in downtown Indianapolis, it is still in use.
In 1917, Thomas G. Moses wrote, “Trip to Indianapolis – March 16th we were awfully late. Left my pocketbook with $25.00 on the window. Didn’t miss it until I started to get my breakfast. I had 75¢ in silver. Wired to Chicago for money.” He lost the equivalent of $505.00 today, no small amount, then or now.
Many of us have lost money over
the years, leaving a purse or wallet in the store, library or classroom. I have
many stories of my purses being returned, or going back to find them on a park
bench, untouched. The most memorable,
however, happened on our honeymoon in 1993.
Andrew and I spent two weeks in the Canadian Rockies, with our first three nights at the Green Gables Inn in Canmore, Alberta, Canada. On the first morning after our arrival, we went for a walk downtown; a nice little stroll along the river. There was a lovely dirt path with a few benches along our way. For whatever reason, we decided that I would carry all of the money and our credit cards that morning. Needless to say, we have never done that since. At some point the purse disappeared. We strolled along the river, sat on a bench and headed back to the hotel. I may have left my purse by a bench, or the strings were cut by a thief. A few weeks after we returned, however, the purse was returned with my ID and credit cards, just minus the cash.
We were also fortunate that my parents could wire money, but we had saved up for months. It was a devastating at the loss. In the end, we tried to find some humor saying that we were a great Western Union ad – “Please send money soon or we won’t have a honeymoon.”
The demand for school stage
scenery increased in the early twentieth century in a similar fashion as that
for fraternal stage scenery. A dramatic
increase in orders began during the second decade of the twentieth century.
Schools were not a new client, but many more academic institutions begin to
produce stage shows, necessitating the purchase of stock scenery and specialty
settings for school productions.
In 1917, Thomas G. Moses wrote,
“Closed with Oak Park High School for $675.00, the first they have bought for
their stage.” On May 4, 1917, the “Chicago Tribune” announced, “High School to
Give Opera. Oak Park High School will present ‘Hansel and Gretel’ this evening
at the high school auditorium. A school orchestra of fifty pieces will
accompany the cast” (page 11). Of the actual production, I have only uncovered
the one article. The auditorium was only a decade old when Sosman & Landis
delivered scenery in 1917, likely for the upcoming production of “Hansel and
Gretel.”
Oak Park opened a new high
school in 1907. That same year the school’s orchestra was founded. It was also
one of the first schools to offer credit toward graduation based on student
performance in the orchestra.
The new building was designed to
hold 800 students and was located at East and Ontario Streets. However, by
1908, the school was deemed defective and needed extra work; the concrete
floors were inadequate to carry the necessary weight and the contractors were
sued. This is likely the reason that the school did not order any painted
scenery until 1917. Additionally, in 1916,
the original Oak Park school building was sold for $25,000 and subsequently
provided funding for a variety of projects.
In 1917, local Oak Park real
estate listings noted that the Oak Park high School was “one of the best in the
country” (Chicago Tribune, 1 April 1917, page 74). The history of the Oak Park
High School is quite interesting in itself. Oak Park was the home to many
artists and architects who worked in Chicago; a short train ride to downtown.
Oak Park was an affluent area with famous names.
In 1917, Thomas G. Moses wrote,
“Closed a contract for two scenes with Gatts and Company, $825.00 for ‘Katzenjammer
Kids.’ We hustled it out. Maier and I
went to Michigan to put it on and nearly froze coming back. 14 degrees below zero. As there was no train, we had to ride home in
the trolley.”
The Katzenjammer Kids was a
comic strip concerning two mischievous little fellows Hans and Fritz. The strip
first appeared in 1897 and running until 2006. Rudolph Dirks created the strips,
with its debut on Dec. 12 in the “American Humorist.” Harold Knerr later drew
the strip, from 1914 until 1949. From 1949-1956 Charles H. “Doc” Winner was the
cartoonist; from 1956 to 1976 it was Joe Musial; from 1981-1986 it was Angelo
DeCesare; and from 1986-2006 it was Hy Eisman.
This comic strip was first
turned into a stage play in 1903. In 1917, the Katzenjammer Kids was advertised
as a “cartoon musical comedy” produced by Gazzolo, Gatts and Clifford. Hans,
Fritz, Ma Katzenjammer, Der Professor, Der Captain and the other characters
were featured in the production. Donald M. Bestor composed the music and Virgil
M. Bennee choreographed the musical numbers. The play was staged in three acts,
the first showing a hotel, the second a dock scenes and the third the Hawaiian Islands.
Of the production, “The
Indianapolis Star” reported, “Particular care has been taken with the staging
and costuming of the Katzenjammer Kids. The fashion plate chorus is gowned in
various fetching evening gowns, all of which match harmoniously with the
beautiful stage pictures and novel electrical effects” (15 March 1917, page 3).
In 1917 Carl Holliday wrote a one-page article entitled “The
American Showboat” for “The Theatre” magazine (May 1917, page 296).
As a student, much of my scenic art training occurred in
the spring at the University of Minnesota – (Twin Cities). Lance Brockman’s scene
painting class produced roll drops and painted wings for the the department’s
fifth theatre space known as Minnesota Centennial Showboat. While working in
the 1950s at U High, the University of Minnesota’s high school program, my
mother attended some of the earliest productions, and continued to attend even
after a new boat was constructed for a St. Paul location. The venue was near
and dear to our family even before I began painting roll drops and learning
scenic art skills.
Unfortunately the University of Minnesota Department of
Theatre Arts and Dance gave away this 2 million dollar asset a few years back.
In the end, the boat was purchased for a small fraction of its worth and is currently
docked down stream in Winona, awaiting a future. This was an unfortunate loss of
not only history, but also a technical training ground for future generations
of students. However, I still look back with great fondness at the venue, as do
many who experienced working on an American showboat.
The Showboat was unique to theatre history, part of an
American legacy that included “water gypsies” and “showboat players.” Here is Holliday’s article in its entirety,
as this one should not be forgotten:
“On a sultry day far up the Mononghela, the Kanawha, or
the Missouri River the small boy, languidly fanning himself with a tattered
straw hat, is suddenly thrilled into mad energy by the wild, weird shrieks of a
calliope echoing far up and down the startled valley. “The showboat! The
showboat!” and away he skurries to the river bank. I do not know whether these
“floating palaces” are known to all American boys; but to the youngsters of the
Middle and Southern States they are harbingers of joy – visions of splendor to
dream of and wonder over many months after they have come and gone.
There are about 95,000 persons in America engaged in the
work of entertaining the public – acrobats, minstrels, singers, vaudeville
actors, dancers, magicians and what not. But of them all doubtless the most
mysterious to the general public, the most happy-go-lucky, are the water
gypsies, the showboat players. Often floating or steaming six thousand miles in
the course of a season, playing from the green hills of the Kanawha in West
Virginia to the brown plains of the Missouri in far Montana, these crafts and
their motley crew of players saw more of real America and real American life
than probably any other institution or class of people. There is a genuine
glamour of romance about such a life – to those who do not live it. When the
“Sunny South,” the “Golden Rod,” the “Cotton Blossom,” the “Dreamland,” or the
“Evening Star” comes to town every boy is immediately seized with the wanderlust and would fain become an
expert on the calliope.
It would be difficult to say how these floating theatres
originated. They are almost entirely an American form of entertainment,
formerly seen now and then on French and German rivers, but now almost confined
to the Mississippi and its many tributaries. Probably such floating troupes
developed from the itinerant actors who played the cabins of canal boats and
“flat bottoms” on Eastern rivers soon after the Revolution. Just such a player,
N. M. Ludlow, who had shaken the beams of those early stuffy cabins, was the
first to appear with a showboat on the Mississippi. In 1817 he and a little
band of actors travelled overland to the Cumberland River, playing as the many
wayside inns as they went, and in the fall of that year transformed a huge
flatboat into a commodious theatre, floated down the Cumberland into the Ohio,
and thus passed into the Mississippi.
It was a dangerous occupation in those rough days. Often
all hands, actor, actresses, and crew, had to turn out to “pole” the theatre
around some dangerous sand bar, and when such notorious spots as Rowdy Bens and
Plum Point were reached, every man and woman of them was armed with a flintlock
to repel the possible attacks of river pirates. One night the ropes of Ludlow’s
boat were cut by practical jokers, and the troupe awoke to find themselves
floating amidst the snags and treacherous currents of the uncharted
Mississippi. Then, too, a rival soon appeared in the person of the once famous
actor, Sol Smith, but fortunately for Ludlow, Smith’s floating palace was cut
in two in 1847 in a collision with another boat, and Ludlow’s company could
boast itself as the “only original.”
In those early days a showboat was used for many purposes
not exclusively theatrical, such as prize fights and horse-back specialties,
but during the past forty years the average river theatre has presented only
plays and the features usually seen in vaudeville. As early as 1847 an English
actor, William Chapman, with his numerous sons and daughters, went by water
from Pittsburgh to New Orleans, playing “The Stranger and Cinderella,” and from
that time to this many an inland boy has gained his first vision of drama
through seeing on a boat-stage such light comedies as “The Girl in Brown,”
“Under Southern Skies,” and “The Minister and the Maid.” Heavier drama is
sometimes undertaken, however, and not infrequently “Faust” has thrilled the
awe-struck audience of river towns.
The equipment on some of these showboats is nothing short
of astonishing. From $40,000 to $50,000 is not an unusual price for the finer
ones – a cost far exceeding that of many good city theatres. Often designed after
the plans of famous playhouses, such as the Blackstone of Chicago, these water
auditoriums are scientifically built and lavishly furnished. For instance, the
“Golden Rod,” a source of wonder to many a river boy, possesses an auditorium
one-hundred and sixty-two feet long and forty-six feet wide, with nineteen
upholstered boxes and a seating capacity of fourteen hundred. Many a city of
fifty thousand people cannot boast of such a stage – forty-six feet wide,
twenty-four feet deep, with six elaborate drop curtains and numerous “set”
pieces and many changes of scenery.
Sometimes the handbills of these crafts proudly – and
truthfully – announce a “family circle” with cushioned settees for five hundred
and a “dress circle” with a thousand arm chairs, while steam heat in winter and
cold-air blowers in summer make the audience forget the weather on shore. In
the days immediately after the Civil War hundreds of gas jets and innumerable
mirrors made the white walls of the boat glisten; but now a thousand electric lights
glow within and without and send their many colors shimmering far over the
rippling waters. An inspection of one of the larger boats casts out all doubt
as to the cost of the building. For example, the “American Floating Theatre”
finds necessary two steam engines, one gasoline, a thousand-pound ice-plant, a
steam laundry, an electric vacuum cleaning outfit, two large dynamos, electric
fans, a well equipped printing plant, a telephone system, a complete hot and
cold water system, a thousand electric lights, a huge American flag composed of
seven hundred and fifty colored incandescent globes, and, of course, the joy of
every American boy, a huge calliope.
Music is indeed an essential factor in showboat life, and
many floating theatres have not only a calliope but expensive chimes which on a
quiet summer night echo from hill to hill of the long river valleys with a
melody wholly entrancing. Often a pilot house is built upon the plan of the
second bookcase, and may contract or expand with surprising rapidity to
accommodate the band. And when the steam-organ, the bells, and the band unite
to rouse the night, mothers should have care for their little ones.
One may well fancy that no mere handful of people can
attend to the many duties of such a theatre. The manager of a showboat must
indeed be not only a thorough business man, but a student of humanity; for
besides the regular boat crew there may be on board from forty to eighty
theatrical specialists, all possessing that excitable trait known as artistic
temperament. For some of these rooms, with private baths and cozy furniture,
are as well equipped as in fashionable hotels; while the food for all, often
bought day by day from river farmers, is far more wholesome than that obtained
in many a metropolitan restaurant. Such a venture, then, as running floating
palaces takes money and plenty of it, and the larger farms have large amounts
invested in what may be truly called “watered stock.”
It was not always thus, however. In the days before the
Civil War and immediately afterwards any “flat bottom” would do for a showboat
and actors, who also served as captain, pilot and engineer, and cook,
frequently gave performances that were anything but conventional. For many years,
in fact, the showboat business was the last resort of human river-rats. Broken
down gamblers with a knowledge of flashy card tricks, deck hands who had
learned ventriloquism, drunken acrobats, medicine fakers whose long black hair
and swarthy complexion enabled them to pose as “noble red men” – such fellows
brought together by ill-luck, could always make a living by giving river shows.
Sometimes patent-medicine companies came to their aid and
paid for a lecturer of a singer. In fact, one showboat presented for some years
a play in which the heroine seeking health was rescued from a villain by a hero
who soon brought her new life by means of a patent medicine.
Old actors will seldom confess that they ever played on a
floating palace; but secretly many of them remember such a life with pleasure.
The slow gliding past green fields and forests, the night breeze softly
ruffling the water on every side – all these things posses a romance and
mysterious thrill not found in the stuffy, formal theatres of the city.”