On July 31st Jim McKnight, a young fellow of ambition and talent, put on a play of his own writing, which he called "The Robbers of the Rocky Mountains," with an exclusive amateur company. Young McKnight drew on his imagination for his robbers; had he written years later he could have taken his characters from life, with Butch Cassidy and the whole Robber's Roost gang in the cast.
CHAPTER XVI.
SEASON OF '72-'73.
The season of '72 and '73 opened on August 7th with George Chaplin and Clara Jean Walters as stock stars. They opened in the classical drama of "Buffalo Bill." This was a long time before Cody started his wild west show and probably this play was what put him in the notion of starting in the show business. Chaplin made a fine Buffalo Bill, and if Cody saw him in the part it must have made him envious to see another fellow stealing his thunder. The combination ran two weeks, when Stetson came in "Neck and Neck" with us and played a week, presenting also "Daring Dick" and "The Fatal Glass." Chaplin had a decided objection to supporting male stars of mediocre ability, and second class repertory, and so he generally laid off on such occasions as the Stetson engagement; besides it was a matter of economy with the management; they did not need him, so George laid off during Stetson's week, and then came with his "Seven Sisters" the following week. George was immense as the big sister and was just a trifle vain over the fact that he could outshine all the women in the company in female apparel.
On September 2nd Ada Gray opened a week's engagement in "Article 47" and gave besides, "Jezebel" and "Whose Wife." Ada was a pleasing actress, of fine appearance, but didn't seem to quicken the pulse of her Salt Lake patrons, after their seeing some of the greater ones.
On the 9th Chaplin and Walters resumed as stock stars and played continuously up to the 23rd, T. A. Lyne taking a benefit on the 20th instant and playing "Richelieu." On the 23rd Chaplin dropped out of the company, closing in "School," and on the 25th the stock company kept right along with Clara Jean Walters featured through the October Conference and up to the 12th.
On October 1st W. T. Harris made his initial bow to the Salt Lake public; he came from one of the Omaha theatres, accompanied by Annie Ward and Miss Blanche de Bar, a sister of the popular manager and actor, Ben de Bar. Miss De Bar had already grown old in the profession, but proved nevertheless a very useful member of the stock company. She played old women and characters and on more than one occasion proved her agility in spite of years and gray hairs, by doing an Irish jig or a "Dolly Varden" lilt. The rag time had not yet come in vogue or Miss De Bar could have done a cake walk with the best.
"Jimmy" Harris, as he was familiarly called, cut quite a figure in the future history of the theatre as manager and deserves more than a passing notice. He was featured on his opening night in an Irish farce, "That Rascal Pat," and made a very fair impression. Miss Annie Ward, who accompanied Harris to Salt Lake, and who at first was supposed to be "Jimmy's" wife or fiancee (from all appearances), was a young woman who had been beautiful, but her face was now so deeply pitted with small pox that she invariably in public kept it covered with a veil, except when on the stage, where she could veil the blemish under a thick coat of grease paint, and, this artistically done, she presented as fair a face as one could wish to look at. "Annie," 'twas said, had been the fiancee of the great African explorer, Henry Stanley, before he caught the African fever, which tore him away from her and all his early associations. Annie found consolation for her bereavement in a close friendship with "Jimmy." So close was their alliance that on their joining the stock company here together, everybody judged they were man and wife, or ought to be. They had taken a room together in old man McDonald's house, just under the shadow of St. Mark's church, and everything went well for a little while—but by some inadvertence the good Mr. McDonald discovered that they had not secured the necessary license for rooming together, and he very promptly and perhaps rudely gave them notice to vacate. They thought the old man was a crank and quite unreasonable, to turn them out of his house for such a slight offense, in a community where many of the men were living with a plurality of wives. They had an idea it was a sort of Oneida community here; free love, etc. They secured another lodging house, but the lady who ran that was a very strict Mormon also, and so soon as she found out how matters stood she served them with a notice to quit. "Jimmy" got a "hunch" from some one that he would have to marry Annie or sever the alliance altogether, as the Mormons would not stand for anything of this kind. It was even intimated to him that he might be indicted for lascivious cohab, which so terrified him that he suddenly ceased his relationship with Annie altogether, and left her to paddle her own canoe. Those who were acquainted with the circumstances have always blamed Harris for his treatment of Annie Ward; he should have married her, was their thought, but he turned away from her in this time of mutual trouble. His offense was condoned, and gradually he worked himself into favor until he became quite an object of interest with the ladies about the theatre, while those same ladies turned up their noses at Miss Ward, and made it so unpleasant for her, that she was glad to terminate her engagement long before the season was over, and go back to her former haunts. Poor girl! She went down hill rapidly after returning and died wretchedly in St. Louis a year or so later, while Harris remained here, married one of Brigham Young's daughters and was given the management of the theatre, which he held for several years. Harris and his wife went to New York in about '80, where they have resided ever since. "Jimmy," who has wealthy relatives there, has a good easy position and raised a nice family of four or five children, to whom he has bequeathed his real name of Ferguson, that of Harris being merely adopted to hide him from his relatives while he was a profane stage player. So runs the wheel of fortune.
Hamlet. I did love you once.
Ophelia. Indeed, my honored lord, you made me believe so.