"The Mapleson Opera Company," wrote the Tribune, "with the Colonel's trials and tribulations, have pretty well filled the public eye the past week. Outside of the Columbia Theatre, with the McCaull people there has been nothing to talk about but the Colonel. There are times when Mapleson, unconsciously, perhaps, appeals to sympathy. He is the only living man to-day with nerve enough to go into the business at all, who can govern and control the average opera singer. The latter is the most trying beast on earth. Male or female, Italian or Greek, German or 'American,' they are all alike. A more obstreperous, cantankerous, and altogether unreasonable being than an opera singer it is hard to find in any other walk of life. The Italian contingent of the guild is the worst to get along with. The Italian singer is rapacious, improvident, ungrateful, and wholly inconsiderate of his manager. At the same time he is a vain fool whom a word of flattery will move. Mapleson speaks Italian fluently, and hence when trouble arises he seeks the complainer, gives him a lot of Tuscan taffy, and the idiot goes off and sings as if nothing had happened. The Mapleson season at the Chicago Opera-house has had its difficulties, yet it has scored successes. The leading people have stood by the Colonel. He has had trouble with the orchestra, but that was quickly remedied. Yesterday Giannini, whom Mapleson picked up, as it were, out of the gutter in New York, where the Milan Company dropped him, and to whom he has since paid thousands of dollars, whether he earned it or not, made a strike just before the matinée. Giannini wanted 600 dollars. Mapleson offered 400 dollars. Giannini refused it, and would not sing. Then the Colonel began to talk Italian in his charming way, and the result was that the tenor went back, dressed, and sang, and that, too, without a 'cent,' and did it with meekness. La Sonnambula, which gave Mdlle. Fohström her last chance to appear, drew a good house at the matinée, and the Colonel's benefit in the evening was a gratifying tribute. There were no more breaks, and the audience showed a warm appreciation throughout. The programme was just what Colonel Mapleson's admirers wanted. Last night's performance ended the season. From here the company scatters. The principals seek their homes in Europe, and the Colonel travels post-haste to London, where he is to superintend the Patti appearance in June. Mapleson is disgusted with his present season's experience, but he is by no means disheartened. He threatens to come back at an early period."
At the end of some three weeks we learned that Sergeant Smith, the commissionaire who jumped out of the window in his shirt, had been discovered comfortably asleep and unhurt. Some difficulty was experienced in marching him along in the costume in which he then was to the hospital, whither it was thought prudent first to take him until some clothing could be provided. Whilst he was detained there a lady who had come to visit a sick gardener recognized the sergeant as having crossed on the same boat with her some six months previously. He readily accepted her offer of the vacant place, and forthwith began work; and it was only after many inquiries as to how the missing body had been disposed of that we discovered the man was still alive. On this being made known several articles came out in various journals, some giving the life of Sergeant Smith, and saying where and how he had won his numerous medals, whilst others expatiated generally on the valour and endurance of the British army.
In due course the gallant sergeant joined the main body and donned his uniform.
While we were at Chicago another Opera Company, calling itself the Milan Grand Italian Opera Company, was giving performances, and an amusing incident happened during a representation of Lucia. The audience was waiting for the appearance of the heroine in the third act. But they waited and watched in vain. The chorus stood in mute amazement, while the musicians in the orchestra looked somewhat amused. The audience stamped their feet and clapped their hands, while the gallery hissed repeatedly. The curtain was rung down, and there was a wait of a few minutes, when finally Signor Alberto Sarata, the manager of the Company, appeared on the stage, and said that Miss Eva Cummings, who had been singing the part of "Lucia," had suddenly become ill, and was quite unable to continue her performance. The opera would, therefore, go on without her. He had scarcely finished speaking when "Lucia" herself came on to the stage, and declared that she was in perfect health, and that she wanted her salary. This announcement was received with mingled cheers and hisses.
The prima donna bowed gracefully first to one side of the house, then to the other, and was about to follow the manager, who had already left the stage, when she found that the curtain was held fast by invisible forces. From one exit she went to the other, but still was unable to escape from the presence of the public.
"I will get off this time, anyhow!" she exclaimed, and with a rush pushed the curtain back. The invisible forces still resisted; but after a time "Lucia" succeeded in making her way to the wings.
Then the curtain went up, and "Edgardo" began to bewail the death of a "Lucia" who had not died.
Towards the close of our Chicago engagement attachments, writs, summonses, etc., began to fall thick and fast, which had to be dealt with speedily in order to ensure our departure.
I therefore made arrangements for a farewell Sunday concert in order to raise the wind for the purpose.
I cannot allow this opportunity to pass without tendering my sincere thanks to my esteemed and valued friend, President Peck, who very kindly came to the rescue by affording me the monetary assistance I required to enable us to get out of the city.