NEW NAMES BROUGHT LUCK.
Margaret Illington and Grace Elliston First Sought Thespian Fame Under Cognomens Now Almost Forgotten.
Although widely divergent in their personal appearance and methods of acting, Grace Elliston and Margaret Illington, the first two Mice in “The Lion and the Mouse,” have one thing in common—each, after appearing on the stage under one name for some time, changed it for another.
Miss Elliston, it will be remembered, created Shirley Rossmore in the original production of the well-known Klein play last autumn, while Miss Illington went to Chicago later on in the second company, and made a big hit in the part when the piece was tried in London. To take the ladles in this order then—
Along about the middle or early nineties, a New York critic, in noticing the appearance at the Casino of Frank Daniels in “The Wizard of the Nile,” wound up his comments with these two sentences: “There were others that were clever—and one little beauty of a maid whose eyes played havoc with the audience. Her name is Grace Rutter, and she will be a star some day.”
Mansfield Recognized Talent.
This “little beauty of a maid” was only in the chorus, and although she has not yet fulfilled the strict letter of this prophecy, she has come pretty close to it, and is yet young. Born in Bluff City, Tennessee, she became interested in amateur theatricals and in a small way made her first professional appearance at the old Lyceum Theater, Memphis, in “Boccaccio.”
The experience was fascinating, and an offer from a traveling company tempted her beyond her strength, and she went on the road, finally reaching New York as a member of “The Dazzler” company.
At a benefit performance of some sort she recited. Richard Mansfield happened to be present, saw promise in her work, and engaged her as a member of his Garrick Theater stock company, then in its first season at this house, which Mr. Mansfield had just taken over from Edward Harrigan and renamed. But as it happened, it was also his last season there, and Miss Rutter’s only opportunity was to do Dodo in a burlesque of “Trilby” called “Thrilby.”
Hoyt & McKee, who succeeded Mansfield in the control of the Garrick, gave Miss Rutter a small part in Hoyt’s farce, “A Day and a Night,” which, in turn, secured for her an opening with Daniels, and in due course she was added to the musical comedy forces at Daly’s, where she was seen in “The Geisha,” “The Circus Girl,” and other London importations.
Chose Another Ladder to Climb.
But although she might be progressing all this while so far as salary was concerned, the ambitions in Miss Rutter’s heart were not being at all satisfied, and in the spring of 1899 she resolved to begin at the foot of the ladder again and mount up the dramatic rather than the light musical rounds.
After some casting about and a period of hope deferred, the ambitious young woman obtained a chance to appear with Daniel Frohman’s stock company at the old Lyceum. There she made her début in “His Excellency the Governor.” She decided, however, that the old name was against her, associating her as it did with musical work, so she appeared on the house bill as “Grace Elliston.” Perhaps her most notable work at the Lyceum was in the charming, fantastic curtain-raiser, “The Shades of Night.”
She remained with the Lyceum company for another season, and then, at the Criterion, created the leading part in that short-lived dramatization, “The Helmet of Navarre.” When this mistake was laid away on the upper shelf, minus camphor balls, Miss Elliston passed to Bonita in a big Academy of Music revival of “Arizona.” Her Shakespearian aspirations were realized in 1903–’04, when she became Olivia in Viola Allen’s offering of “Twelfth Night.”
Manager Named His Future Wife.
It was in 1900 that patrons of James K. Hackett, in “The Pride of Jennico,” saw that the part of the gipsy girl was played with much fire and dash by a very young actress who was set down on the program as Maude Light. Investigation shows this to be the real name of a stage-struck young woman from Bloomington, Illinois, who, after some very modest attempts in Chicago, had come to Daniel Frohman with her dramatic aspirations. She was placed in a minor rôle with the Hackett company, to be speedily promoted to Michel, the gipsy aforesaid, the second important female part in the play. And it wasn’t long before she was sometimes doing that of the Princess herself, whenever Bertha Galland was out of the cast. Her change of name was made at the request of Mr. Frohman. It seemed that the other women were all using stage noms, so when the matter was laid before her Miss Light expressed her perfect willingness to fall in line.
“But what shall I call myself?” she inquired.
“I’ll make you up a name,” replied Mr. Frohman, and forthwith took her native State, Illinois, and her home town, Bloomington, and out of the two formed “Illington,” prefixing “Margaret” for euphony.
From the Hackett play Miss Illington passed to the stock company at Daly’s, still under Mr. Frohman’s management, appearing as the Maid in “Frocks and Frills,” a small part which she made stand out vividly, and at the same theater she did Fleur de Lys in “Notre Dame.”
Succeeded Miss Loftus.
E. H. Sothern’s troupe next claimed Miss Illington’s services, and she took Cecilia Loftus’s place as leading woman when that actress fell ill and was obliged to leave the stage for the hospital.
In the autumn of the same year (1903) Miss Illington created the leading part in that distinguished failure, “A Japanese Nightingale,” but during the brief run of the piece she assumed a part attended with more success—that of the wife of her manager, Daniel Frohman. It was announced then that she would leave the stage at the end of the “Nightingale” engagement, but, as so often happens in such cases, the bridegroom proposes and the bride elects to please herself. So the very next spring we found her as Henriette in the all-star cast of “The Two Orphans.” And last season she filled the title rôle in “Mrs. Leffingwell’s Boots.”
For the coming winter Miss Illington is to be entrusted with the most important part that has yet fallen to her—that of the leading lady with John Drew in Pinero’s new play, “His House in Order”—a rôle created in London with great success by Irene Van Brugh, who made such a hit here a few years ago with John Hare in “The Gay Lord Quex.”