WILLIAM E. BURTON.
1804-1834.
William Evans Burton, the son of William George Burton, an author of some repute, was born in London, September 24, 1804, and died in New York, February 10, 1860. His father was a printer, with a bent of mind toward theology, and gave expression to his views in a work entitled "Biblical Researches," published in the close of the last century. The son was classically educated in St. Paul's School in London, an institution where, before his day, Elliston and the elder Mathews were instructed; and the father's design was to prepare him for the ministry. The parent's death, however, summoned him from his studies, and, at the age of eighteen, he assumed the direction of the printing-office, which he managed for the maintenance of his mother. It may be observed that one of the specialties of the elder Burton's business was the printing of classical works, and the son's knowledge had often been of service in the matter of proof-reading. From the printing-office he was led to the experiment of editing a monthly magazine, thus early revealing an inclination toward the profession of letters which never wholly deserted him; fostered by sundry efforts of authorship in his native land, and appearing subsequently, in this country, in his conduct of "The Gentleman's Magazine" and "Literary Souvenir," and in the compilation known as "Burton's Cyclopædia of Wit and Humor."
The youthful experiment was not a substantial success, and did not long continue; but his editorship brought him into connection with certain members of the dramatic profession, and he was persuaded (we wonder if persuasion were really needed!) to make a trial of his stage ability by playing with a company of amateurs. His success in this venture foreshadowed his destiny, and we find him in 1825 performing with a provincial company on the Norwich, Sussex, and Kent circuits.
We cannot help the indulgence, at this moment, of a playful fancy regarding Burton's early efforts. Did he, in the exemplification of tragedy, which he then aspired to, reveal by a single facial example the dawning of a future Toodle? Could imagination discover in the dagger of Macbeth the hook, and in the Thane himself the features, of Ed'ard Cuttle, Mariner of England? Did the thoughtful countenance of Hamlet suggest in any possible way the lugubriousness of an incipient Sleek? Did he make his Majesty George IV. laugh at Windsor, where, as tradition has it, he played before the king at this stage of his career? We know not; but the mask of Melpomene had been thrown aside when, after another round of the provinces, with varying success, but gaining celebrity through an unusually wide range of parts, he made his first appearance in London in 1831, as Wormwood, in "The Lottery Ticket," a character that became famous in his hands. This engagement was at the Pavilion Theatre, and was a highly successful one. The great Liston, just twice Burton's age, was then at the Haymarket, and we can imagine with what emulous admiration the young comedian regarded the veteran actor. He little dreamed that many of Liston's renowned characters would descend to him by right of ability and comic power! In the following year (1832) Liston retired from the Haymarket, "through a pique," as they say, and Burton succeeded him; but the audiences retained too vivid a recollection of Liston's performances, and the engagement was only moderately successful. Recovering suddenly from his disaffection, Liston returned to the Haymarket, and Burton in his turn retired, to once more make the rounds of the provinces. But he bore with him one remembrance in connection with the Haymarket that consoled him for many a disappointment; and that was the thought of having played Marall to Edmund Kean's Sir Giles Overreach. The story runs that Mrs. Glover,[1] a leading actress of the company, objected for some reason to the Marall, and declared that she or Burton should be omitted in the cast. Kean, despite irregularities, still retained a remnant of his old sway, and he insisted on being supported by Burton. The result was that Mrs. Glover was compelled to yield, and in due course Marall appeared before a full house, containing many celebrities of the day. It was at this time, too, that a production of his pen—the play of "Ellen Wareham,"[2] —enjoyed the unusual distinction of being performed at five London theatres on the same evening. A year and a half went by in efforts to enhance his reputation, and it may be said that his career was not free from the vicissitudes that frequently attend dramatic itineracy. But through it all he gained ground and advanced steadily in his profession. He played almost every thing; his industry was indefatigable, his will indomitable. The lamp of experience never waned; and that knowledge gained from contact with the world and human nature, was a preparation for events and emergencies in another scene and another land. For now his thoughts were turned toward the United States, and in 1834 he determined to cross the ocean, and to take the chance of fortune and of fame.
1834-1848
Burton landed on our shores unheralded, to begin the twenty-five years of the artistic career which holds so conspicuous a place in the annals of dramatic achievement. He was not "brought over," and he came at his own expense. He came, indeed, with the prestige of having written "Ellen Wareham," and of having made a comic character [3] famous by fifty consecutive representations; but he was simply announced as coming "from the Pavilion Theatre, London," and he made his first appearance in America at the Arch Street Theatre, Philadelphia, under the management of Maywood & Co., on September 3, 1824, playing Dr. Ollapod, in Colman's "Poor Gentleman," and Wormwood, in "The Lottery Ticket." Ollapod always remained one of Burton's most effective parts. The portrait, on another page, of the comedian in that character is from an engraving by J. Sartain of a picture painted from life by Henry Inman, in 1840.
There lies before us a bill (elsewhere reproduced) of the above theatre, dated Wednesday, September 10, 1834, being the fourth night of Burton's first engagement in this country. The plays on the occasion were Sheridan's comedy of "The Rivals" and the farce of "The Lottery Ticket,"—which last seems to have met with great favor, as the bill states it to be a repetition, owing to "numerous enquiries having been made at the box-office"; thus beginning the train of similar "numerous enquiries" with which, in the years to come, his own box-office became familiar. Burton was the Bob Acres of the comedy and Wormwood in the farce. Then at the age of thirty, we can believe that the comedian's unfolding genius gave full promise of the delightful humor which clothed his Acres at a later day; and that in the Wormwood of the farce he afforded glimpses of that wealth of comic power which thereafter, and for so long, he lavished for the amusement of the public. Miss Pelham was the Lydia Languish and Miss Elphinstone the Julia, English actresses of no special distinction; but it is interesting to note that Miss Elphinstone became the second wife of Sheridan Knowles, the author of a celebrated and far more popular Julia than the lady of "The Rivals," and who appeared on the Philadelphia stage of that year.
Mr. Burton As Bob Acres.
Something akin to his reception by the audiences at the Haymarket in London, was for a time Burton's experience in Philadelphia. As the recollection of Liston by the London audience dwarfed the efforts of the youthful aspirant, so the memory of Joseph Jefferson, senior, (who played in the city as late as 1830, [4]) diluted the interest felt in the new actor by the Philadelphia benches. [5] But the native force and humorous capability of the comedian were destined to conquer indifference; and, although the creative genius which informed his subsequent delineations was yet to be made clearly manifest, he soon had a secure footing; and a belief was strengthening in the public mind that an actor of rare endowments and promise had come from the land of Munden, Elliston, and Liston, and one who might, it was not too much to say, worthily perpetuate the traditions of Jefferson.
On the fifth night of his engagement (September 12, 1834) he played Timothy Quaint, in "The Soldier's Daughter," and Tristam Sappy, in the afterpiece of "Deaf as a Post," and so on through a round of characters in comedy and farce—Daffodil Twod, among the latter, in "The Ladies' Man"—written by himself—was a great favorite. And it may here be said, in passing, that the farce, which previous to Burton's advent had sunk into lethargy, revived under his touch and became a vital point of attraction. He made a great hit as Guy Goodluck, in "John Jones," in which part he sang a comic song—"A Chapter of Accidents"—and the fact leads us to remark that very few of those who saw the comedian in his ripe prime were aware of the musical talent he exhibited in earlier years, and that he made a specialty of introducing humorous ballads in his pieces, and sang them with marked effect. A collection of such songs, entitled "Burton's Comic Songster," was published in Philadelphia in 1850; and we were surprised, on looking it over, at the quantity of mirthful verse he had written and sung. The well-known ditty of "The Cork Leg," it may be mentioned, was written expressly for him.
The engagement of Burton with Maywood & Co. lasted two years, and was renewed for two more, during which period the comedian's powers greatly developed, and displayed remarkable versatility and dramatic resource. He widely extended his repertory, and was seen at the Arch and Chestnut Street theatres in a variety of comedy rôles and in innumerable farces. Among the many noted parts performed by him at various times we may name: Ollapod, in "The Poor Gentleman"; Doctor Pangloss, in "The Heir at Law"; Farmer Ashfield, in "Speed the Plough"; Goldfinch, in "The Road to Ruin"; Billy Lackaday, in "Sweethearts and Wives"; Tony Lumpkin, in "She Stoops to Conquer"; Maw-worm, in "The Hypocrite"; Sir Peter Teazle and Sir Oliver Surface, in "The School for Scandal"; Mr. Dove and Mr. Coddle, in "Married Life"; Dogberry and Verges, in "Much Ado About Nothing"; Launcelot Gobbo, in "The Merchant of Venice"; Bob Acres, in "The Rivals";—the last-named character he played on one occasion with the conjunction of the elder Wallack as Capt. Absolute, Tyrone Power as Sir Lucius O'Trigger, and Mr. Abbot (an actor celebrated in his day) as Falkland; truly a striking distribution. A few of the farces out of the many were "The Lottery Ticket," "Sketches in India," "The Mummy" (so famous in Chambers Street), "No Song No Supper," "John Jones," "Deaf as a Post," "The Ladies' Man," and a piece called "Cupid," which had won renown in England through the acting of the famous John Reeve.
Burton's growing popularity was substantially shown in the attendance at his regular benefits. They were always bumpers, and occasions of warm demonstrations of regard. He was always ready, too, with his sympathy and support where the claims of a professional brother were in question. William B. Wood, in his "Personal Recollections of the Stage," to which work we are indebted for much useful information, refers to an occurrence of the kind as follows: "I must apologize for the mention here of a circumstance purely personal, which proved one of the most gratifying events of my life. During the month of December, 1835, while acting in Chestnut Street, Burton called me aside between the acts, and with an expression of great pleasure, informed me that a meeting for the purpose of giving me a grand benefit had just adjourned, after completing the necessary arrangements. This was the first hint I ever had of this intention. The object was at once carried into effect, and on the 11th of January, 1836, I was honored by the presence of one of the most brilliant audiences ever assembled.... The following entertainment was offered: 'Three and Deuce,' two acts of 'Venice Preserved,' 'John of Paris,' 'Antony's Orations,' and a new song, and 'How to die for Love.' I was favored in these pieces with the valuable aid of Mr. Balls, Mr. J. Wallack, Mr. Abbot, Mrs. and Miss Watson, Mr. Wemyss, and Mr. Burton."
In the years while the comedian was advancing in his profession, and acquiring that knowl edge of the stage which distinguished his subsequent management, his pen was not idle. He wrote several farces, and contributed stories and sketches to the periodicals of the day. These articles were widely read, and a collection of them was published by Peterson at a later date, with the title, "Waggeries and Vagaries"—a volume that has afforded entertainment to many readers of light literature. The literary taste referred to at the beginning of this narrative now sought indulgence, and in 1837 he started "The Gentleman's Magazine," a monthly publication of original miscellany. Articles of his own appeared in it from time to time, among others a graceful and appreciative sketch of his friend, James Wallack. He continued the editorship until July, 1839, when he associated Edgar A. Poe with him in the control.
To those who have paid any attention to the career of the gifted author of "The Raven," as depicted by various pens in recent years, it need scarcely be said that, though a man of genius, he was not without frailties; and his warmest defenders will not deny that his life was marred by many irregularities of conduct. He was appointed editor of the magazine at a fixed salary, and the arrangement was such as to give him leisure to contribute to other periodicals and to produce many of his famous tales. "Happier now," says one of his biographers, [6] "than he had been for years past, for his prospects seemed assured, his work regular, interesting, and appreciated, his fame increasing, he writes to one friend that he 'has quite overcome the dangerous besetment,' and to another that he is 'a model of temperance and other virtues.'" For nearly a year he remained with Burton; "but," continues the same biographer, "so liable was he still to sudden relapses that the actor was never with confidence able to leave the city. Returning on one occasion after the regular day of publication, he found the number unfinished, and his editor incapable of duty. He left remonstrances to the morrow, prepared the 'copy' himself, and issued the magazine, and then to his astonishment received a letter from his assistant, the tone of which may be inferred from Burton's answer: 'I am sorry you have thought it necessary to send me such a letter. Your troubles have given a morbid tone to your feelings which it is your duty to discourage. I myself have been as severely handled by the world as you can possibly have been, but my sufferings have not tinged my mind with melancholy, nor jaundiced my views of society. You must rouse your energies, and if care assail you, conquer it. I will gladly overlook the past. I hope you will as easily fulfil your pledges for the future. We shall agree very well, though I cannot permit the magazine to be made a vehicle for that sort of severity which you think is so "successful with the mob." I am truly much less anxious about making a monthly "sensation" than I am upon the point of fairness. You must, my dear sir, get rid of your avowed ill-feelings toward your brother authors. You see I speak plainly; I cannot do otherwise upon such a subject. You say the people love havoc. I think they love justice.... But I wander from my design. I accept your proposition to re-commence your interrupted avocations upon the Maga. Let us meet as if we had not exchanged letters. Use more exercise, write when feelings prompt, and be assured of my friendship. You will soon regain a healthy activity of mind, and laugh at your past vagaries,'" We think nothing can be clearer than that Burton had good cause for fault-finding, and that he was more than considerate and just in his frank expression of feeling.
We do not intend to pursue the ill-starred connection further. A more glaring offence on Poe's part severed the relationship, and not long thereafter the magazine was sold out to Graham and merged in his "Casket," the consolidation ultimately to become "Graham's Magazine."
"The Literary Souvenir," an annual published by Carey & Hart, was edited by Burton in 1838 and 1840, and its pages contained many of his entertaining sketches. He also contributed to the "Knickerbocker Magazine" a series of theatrical papers styled "The Actor's Alloquy." Occasional starring tours belong to the chronicle of these years, and there lies before us a bill of the American Theatre, Walnut Street, dated October 14, 1839, announcing "First night of the re-engagement of Mr. Burton," and also that "His Excellency Martin Van Buren, President of the United States, will honor the theatre with his presence." The President must have been greatly amused, for not only did he see the comedian as Tom Tape and Peeping Tom, but he also saw him "dance with Mrs. Hunt the Minuet de la Cour and Gavotte de Vestris." Burton was fairly well known now throughout the Union—except in the town of Napoleon, on the Mississippi River, where, if we may believe Mr. Davidge, he found his Waterloo. The engagement had not been profitable, and his only hope was by personally drumming for his benefit. So he deposited a goodly number of tickets with the bartender at the hotel where he was staying, with a polite request that he would use his best endeavor to get rid of them. The benefit came off, and the attendance was very flattering. After the play the comedian invited several friends up to the bar, and there had the satisfaction of learning that the man had managed to dispose of all the tickets entrusted to him. This was very gratifying; but no offer of settlement being made, he ventured to suggest that, as he was on the point of quitting the town, he would like to have the pleasure of receiving the insignificant amount of seventy-five cents for each piece of pasteboard deposited. Mr. Davidge says it takes a great deal to astonish a barkeeper in Napoleon; but this one was distanced. He surveyed Burton for a quarter of a minute, and seeing not a muscle move in the comedian's expressive countenance, he said: "Look here, Mr. Billy Burton, none of your infernal Northern tricks here; it won't do, no way! You told me to get rid of them tickets, and as I had promised I was bound to go straight through with it—and by thunder, I was obliged to stand drinks to every man to take one!" An audience may be uncultured if not lukewarm; and the unimpressible community of Napoleon reminds us that the "Antigone" of Sophocles was once produced under Burton's management, and, on loud and repeated calls for the author, the comedian presented himself before the foot-lights and said: "Ladies and gentlemen, it would give me the greatest pleasure to introduce the author of the play; but, unfortunately, he has been dead for more than twenty centuries, and I shall have to throw myself upon your indulgence."
Burton made his first appearance in New York October 31, 1837, at the old National Theatre in Leonard Street—then under the management of the elder Wallack—for the benefit of Samuel Woodworth, the poet, playing Guy Goodluck, in "John Jones"; and his first appearance as a star was made at the same theatre February 4, 1839, when he played Billy Lackaday, in "Sweethearts and Wives," and Guy Goodluck. A complimentary benefit was given to Mr. Wallack in the same year, when Burton played Sir Simon Slack, in "Spring and Autumn." The opera of "Amilie; or, The Love Test" was produced on the same occasion. If we mistake not, he was connected with the management when the theatre was destroyed by fire not long after. He also appeared at Niblo's Garden as a star in this year, opening June 21th, and was seen in a round of parts, including Gregory Thimblewell, Euclid Facile, Ignatius Polyglott, and Tobias Munns, in his own farce of "Forty Winks." He first appeared on the Park stage June 2, 1840, playing Sir Timothy Stilton, in "Patrician and Parvenu," the occasion being a complimentary benefit to Peter Richings; and in the same month acted at Niblo's Garden. At his benefit (July 6th) he played Brown, in "Kill and Cure," and Fluid in "The Water Party." The participation of the Cushman sisters in this entertainment greatly enhanced its interest and attractiveness. In this year he fitted up Cooke's circus-building in Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, calling it the National Theatre. He gathered a fine company and was very prosperous. Charlotte and Susan Cushman appeared there, and the sterling comedians Henry and Thomas Placide were among the force. The fairy piece, "The Naiad Queen," was there presented for the first time in the United States, and brought wealth to the manager's coffers. A large amount of his earnings by this enterprise he invested in Nick Biddle's United States Bank, and in the downfall of that institution suffered severely.
Mr. Burton as Dr. Ollapod.
In 1841, after a brief engagement at the Providence theatre, he returned to New York, and leased the rebuilt theatre corner of Leonard and Church streets, where his first appearance in New York had been made; brought on his Philadelphia company, and there established himself. This was April 13, 1841, and his first essay as manager in New York. He transported all the beautiful scenery of "The Naiad Queen," and reproduced the piece with gratifying success. But a dread fatality seemed to attend this temple of the drama. As, while under Wallack's management, it was destroyed by fire, so the same doom befell it under Burton. In the height of prosperity the building was again consumed, and with it the elaborate and splendid scenery of "The Naiad Queen." Of this calamity, F. C. Wemyss, in his "Theatrical Biography," remarks: "On this occasion a magnificent and extensive wardrobe, the property of Mr. Burton, was consumed, together with his private wardrobe, manuscripts, books, and other articles of considerable value. He was not insured to the amount of a dollar. The citizens of New York expressed their sympathy with the manager; and a complimentary benefit at the Park placed a handsome sum at his disposal." Undaunted by a disaster which would have utterly discouraged most men, Burton again sought Philadelphia, and after starring for a brief season leased the Chestnut Street Theatre for a fresh essay. There for a while he continued with good fortune, until better prospects invited him to Arch Street, where at last he located with a view to permanency. Meeting now with rich success, he determined to extend his sphere of operation, and added in turn to his lesseeship the Front Street Theatre, Baltimore, and the theatre in Washington; so that in 1845-6 he was guiding the destinies of three dramatic houses, distinguished for well-chosen companies and for the admirable manner in which the plays were mounted and cast. But again the fiat of destiny was written in words of flame. The Washington theatre, for the first time in many years, was handsomely rewarding its manager, when one night, during the performance, the scenery caught fire, and the building was burnt to the ground. The Baltimore theatre was continued; but the lion's share of attention was given to Arch Street, and there for several years Burton enjoyed a flow of prosperity; his fame increasing in public estimation; surprising and delighting all by his wonderful acting, and by the knowledge, taste, and liberality, with which he catered for his patrons. But New York was in the manager's thoughts and seemed to beckon him Northward. Perhaps Burton's prophetic gaze discerned in the great city a field that would respond to careful tillage, and that the rapid growth of the metropolis could not fail to give momentum to enterprise. Whatever the motive spring, the step was taken, and in 1848 the building known as Palmo's Opera-House became Burton's Theatre.
In this brief survey of fourteen years, the absence of detail in many instances will be pardoned, we hope, on a reflection of what it may suggest. We are aware of the interest attaching to strength of companies, citations of casts, and notes of special performance; and in all theatrical histories such details should evoke the most careful consideration. The Philadelphia record, however, is not always full and clear on those points, as respects individual careers, even in one so active and fruitful as our subject's; for, so far as we know, there is no history of the stage of that city which pretends to do for its dramatic life what Ireland has done for the New York stage—regarding which monument of painstaking fidelity, William Winter, in the preface to his recent admirable volume on "The Jeffersons," truly says: "Every writer who touches upon the history of the drama in America must acknowledge his obligation for guidance and aid to the thorough, faithful and suggestive records made by the veteran historian, Joseph N. Ireland. "Yet, in depicting the career of a great actor, many things are rendered subordinate which in a history of the drama of any given period would receive due prominence. That the career of Burton in Philadelphia from 1834 to 1848 embraced much of its stage history during those years, will, of course, be understood; and we shall be sorry if our readers, at the same time, fail to discern the industry, sagacity, courage, and varied powers—with which the actor, author, and manager, illustrated those years—suggested by this recital.
We now approach a period within the memory of many persons now living. Some few octogenarians may survive who can recall Burton's performances of over forty years ago; but they must be few indeed; and their recollections cannot be otherwise than dim and uncertain. But the achievements of Burton in Chambers Street; the unexampled popularity of his theatre; the unequalled company he gathered there; the indisputable creations of character that there originated; the birth of a revival of Shakespeare, with a felicity of conception that revealed the appreciative student, and with a beauty and minuteness of appointment unprecedented at the time;—all this, through a decade of years, forms an enchanting reminiscence vivid still in the retrospect of numberless New Yorkers. It is not surprising that we of the city of New York forget that the comedian so long belonged to Philadelphia. So brilliant was his success in Chambers Street that all other theatres where he flourished seem to be viewed by the reflected light of that; and we think there will be no question that there were clustered his rarest triumphs and there blossomed the flower of his fame.