BROOKLYN THEATRE from 1898: AN ILLUSTRATED CHRONOLOGY: 1907: MARCH

Maxine Elliott in Her Great Match.

March 1907 was not a particularly memorable one in the saga of Brooklyn’s theatre history, but, of course, it did have its moments. By and large, the borough’s theatre journalists were concerned this month mainly with theatrical developments peripheral to Brooklyn, like Richard Mansfield’s current production of Ibsen’s Peer Gynt in its US premiere. Mansfield’s work solidified his reputation as America’s foremost male actor, and it moved the needle of Ibsen acceptance a bit further into the public consciousness (a year after the Norwegian playwright died).

It also inspired critical doubts about this particular work (known mainly from Grieg’s opera version), which everyone was having the devil of a time understanding or even agreeing was a play. As Hamilton Ormsbee observed in the Eagle on March 3, “[I]t is difficult to see in this brilliant triumph any gain in dramatic art that is commensurate with the expenditure of talent and energy. Fundamentally an epic in its conception and execution, lacking in unity of thought and form, it is impossible that ‘Peer Gynt’ could contribute any lasting benefit to the theatre.” Brooklyn’s playgoers anxiously awaited the opportunity to form its own verdict, but, though promised, it never came. On March 27, it was reported that Mansfield was in critical condition after suffering an attack linked to what was described as combination from a digestive disorder, the grippe, and a long-lingering ailment not specified to the public. He had taken ill in Scranton, PA, and rushed in his private railroad car to New York, where he would die in late August, only 50 years old.

Meanwhile, Brooklyn’s two Williamsburg stock companies managed to barrel along until one came face to face with real, not stage, tragedy. This happened on March 30, when Etta Reed Payne (1866-1915), leading lady of Payton’s Stock Company at the Lee Avenue Theatre, wife of actor-manager Corse Payton, suffered a massive stroke at the end of March, following a performance of Trilby. It was not the 41-year-old’s first stroke, however, Her health had been fragile for the past two years. And, despite her husband’s wish to have her preserve her strength by not appearing weekly when the season began, her ambition drove her to work too hard and play more often than was wise.

It was believed by many that she was felled by the emotional strain of acting Trilby twice a day for a week. According to the Eagle of April 1:

In Trilby’s scenes with Svengali, she is obliged to gaze steadily into the eyes of the hypnotist for several minutes at a time, while he is attempting to control her will. This strain told upon her nerves during the week, and left her much exhausted after the Saturday matinee. It is the belief of those who had been in close touch with her during the week that it was what finally caused her collapse.

Reed's paralysis, affecting her left side and her speech, thus prevented her from returning to the stage, but, despite the obvious danger, she did not die for another eight years. In 1912, she managed to play a role again to help boost the theatre’s flagging business, but her condition and her shockingly altered appearance were too great to overcome. For all intents and purposes, the Payton Stock Company had lost its versatile, respected leading lady.

Meanwhile, the other Eastern District leading lady, Emma Bell, continued to play role after role, week after week, with leading man William C. Holden, as they had done untiringly for years.

The other most prominent Brooklyn-related theatrical news of the month was a report in the Eagle of March 10 of a threat to the life of Rev. William Sheafe Case of Christ Episcopal Church, Bedford Avenue, because of his opposition to the Sunday “concerts” at Eastern District theatres. He had received a letter from "The Redhand Society" saying he was “marked to die.”

Pastor Chase—You are causing a lot of trouble to the theater people. Do you know that you are making a lot of people unhappy and losing money? I warn you you are marked to die. Take warning. I know you are marked. I belong to a society which is being paid to do away with you as you are causing a lot of trouble. I must not tell you my name but I am afraid they are going to kill you. You will be called to your door and killed by one man. Another man is to watch outside your house. We drew lots; I am to watch outside while the other man kills you. I don’t want your death on my hands. So be careful. We are sworn to do what the society tells us.

“(signed) REDHAND SOCIETY

March 7, 1907

The letter was reported to the police, its postmark noted, and the writing style analyzed. The clergyman recalled a certain gentleman who had been trying to get him to drop his attempts to block a bill in Albany seeking to legitimize Sunday performances. He had met twice with this man, who sold liquors and cigars to the affected theatres, and was offered money to pay for his expenses in the battle to prevent the concerts. A reporter visiting the man found him incommunicative about the matter. Canon Chase soon began doubting the seriousness of the threat, considering it a common crank message. He was resolved to continue his line of attack, to seek the arrest of the theatre managers, and to come and go as he pleased.

A day later, on Monday, March 11, the Eagle reported that Canon Chase had concluded the whole affair to have been a hoax, while various persons concurred from the paper used and the writing itself that it was likely the idea of newspaper man or press agent to stir up a story and fill space. So convinced was the rector of its hollowness that he did not even bother to mention it during his services.

A month later, Canon Chase’s crusade ended victoriously when, as reported in the Eagle on April 18, all Brooklyn’s Hyde and Behman-operated venues—Hyde & Behman’s, Folly, Gayety, Grand Opera House, and Star—would cease their Sunday shows.

Offstage drama was one thing, but onstage drama this month was the usual combination of the very familiar, the moderately familiar, and, vastly outnumbered, the new. Productions headed by household names included The Governor and the Girl (no noun showed up in titles more than “girl”) with Jefferson De Angelis, Clarice with William Gillette (who also wrote it), The Duel with Otis Skinner, The Mountain Climber with Francis Wilson, Her Great Match with Maxine Elliott, The Woman in the Case with Eugenie Blair, In the Bishop’s Carriage, with Jessie Busley, and a four-play Shakespeare repertory starring the distinguished Robert Mantell.

Maxine Elliott.

Maxine Elliott (1868-1940), great beauty and one of the most fascinating women of her time, lover of millionaires, noblemen, and tennis players, would soon build her own Broadway theatre, named for her, which lasted until 1960. Her Great Match, which she’d done in Brooklyn before, was a second-rate work by the prolific but facile Clyde Fitch. She’d been doing it for two years and was now ending her extensive tour before leaving to do something new in England. Here's the Eagle's review of this production.