Charles Frohman: Manager and Man

by Isaac Frederick Marcosson; Daniel Frohman

It will be recalled that in one way or another a great many passes for the theater found their way into the hands of the elder Frohman, who, in his great generosity of heart, frequently took many of the neighboring children along. He was the type of man who loves to bestow pleasure. But this made no difference with Charles. He was usually able to wring an extra pass from the bill-poster or some of the actors who frequented the store. Hence came about his first contract, and in this fashion: At that time Gustave Frohman was a famous cyclist. He was the first man to keep a wheel stationary, and he won prizes for doing so. He had purchased his bicycle with savings out of the theatrical earnings, and his bicycle and his riding became a source of great envy to Charles, who asked him one night if he would teach him how to ride.

"Yes," replied Gustave, "I'll teach you if you will make a contract with me to provide five dollars' worth of passes in return."

"Good!" said Charles, and the deal was closed.

Gustave kept his word, and down in Washington Place, in front of the residence of old Commodore Vanderbilt, Charles learned to ride. He kept his part of the contract, too, and delivered five dollars' worth of passes ahead of schedule time.

One of Gustave's cycling companions was the son of George Vandenhoff, the famous reader. Through him he met the father, who engaged him to post his placards for his series of lectures on Dickens. Charles accompanied Gustave on these expeditions, and got his first contact with theatrical advertising. Frequently he held the ladder while Gustave climbed up to hang a placard. Charles often employed his arts to induce an obdurate shopkeeper to permit a placard in his window. These cards were not as attractive as those of the regular theaters and it took much persuasion to secure their display. Charles sometimes sat in the box-office of Association Hall, where the Vandenhoff lectures were given and where Gustave sold tickets. It was here that Charles got his introduction to the finance of the theater.

These days in the early 'seventies were picturesque and carefree for Charles. The boy was growing up in an atmosphere that, unconsciously, was shaping his whole future life. In the afternoon he continued his service behind the counter, hearing the actors tell stories of their triumphs and hardships. Often he slipped next door to Brentano's, where he was a welcome visitor and where he pored over the illustrations in the theatrical journals.

Life at the store was not without incident. Among those who came in to buy cigars were the Guy brothers, famous minstrels of their time. They were particular chums of Gustave, and they likewise became great admirers of the little Charles. At the boys' request they would step into the little reception-room behind the store and practise their latest steps to a small but appreciative audience. This was Charles Frohman's first contact with minstrelsy, in which he was to have such an active part later on.

Strangely enough, music and moving color always fascinated Charles Frohman. At that time, for it was scarcely more than a decade after the Civil War, there were many parades in New York, and all of them passed the little Broadway cigar-store. To get a better view, Charles frequently climbed up on the roof and there beheld the marching hosts with all their tumult and blare. Here it was, as he often later admitted, that he got his first impressions of street-display and brass-band effects that he used to such good advantage.

A picturesque friendship of those early days was with the clock-painter Washburn, perhaps the foremost worker of that kind in this country. He painted the faces of all the clocks that hung in front of the jewelers' shops in the big city. He always painted the time at 8.17½ o'clock, and it became the precedent which most clock-painters have followed ever since.

Charles watched Washburn at work. One reason for his interest was that it dealt with gilt. The old painter took such a fancy to the lad that he wanted him to become his apprentice and succeed him as the first clock-face painter of his time. But this work seemed too slow for the future magnate.