A particular reason for solicitude when this Belasco-Herne “benefit” was projected was urgent desire to insure Rose Coghlan’s appearance—which had been advertised—as Gervaise, in a play called “L’Assommoir.” Émile Zola’s noxious novel of that name was published, in Paris, in 1878, and a stage synopsis of it, made by W. Bushnach and—— Gastineau, was produced, January 18, 1879, at the Théâtre Ambigu-Comique. It is interesting to note that Augustin Daly, who chanced to be in the French capital soon afterward, witnessed a performance of it and, in a letter written to his brother, the late Joseph Francis Daly, under date of January 30, described it in these words:
“‘L’Assommoir’ is a disgusting piece,—one prolonged sigh, from first to last, over the miseries of the poor, with a dialogue culled from the lowest slang and tritest claptrap. It gave me no points that I could use, and the only novelty in it was in the lavoir scene, where two washwomen (the heroine and her rival) throw pails of warm water (actually) over each other and stand dripping before the audience.”
Notwithstanding his correctly adverse opinion of “L’Assommoir” Daly was induced, in deference to the wish of his father-in-law, John Duff, to buy the American copyright of the work (for which he paid £200, furnished by Duff), and to make a version of it, considerably denaturized,—in five acts, containing twelve tableaux,—which he produced at the Olympic Theatre, New York, April 30, 1879. It was a complete failure. (The only memorable incident associated with that production is that in it, as Big Clémence, Ada Rehan, the supreme comedy actress of her day, made her first appearance under the management of Daly.) On June 2 an adaptation of the French play, made by Charles Reade, was brought out at the Princess’ Theatre, London,—which, because of the extraordinarily effective acting in it of Charles Warner (1847-1909), as Coupeau, achieved immediate and, unhappily, enduring success. Maguire, reading in a newspaper dispatch of that London success, undeterred by Daly’s New York failure (perhaps stimulated by it), had at once asked Belasco to make a play on the subject for the Baldwin Theatre. This, as soon as “The Moonlight Marriage” was launched, Belasco had done,—basing his drama on an English translation of Zola’s book and completing his work within one week. All concerned were hopeful that this new drama of violent sensation would please the popular taste and serve to set the Baldwin once more in the path of prosperity. It was presented at that theatre July 15, 1879, and it was sufficiently successful to gain and hold public interest for two weeks,—a result due in part to the excellent acting with which it was illustrated, in part to the dexterity of Belasco’s exacting stage management. A single comparative incident is significantly suggestive: in Daly’s New York production the fall of Coupeau from a ladder was, palpably, made by substituting a dummy figure for the actor who played the part: in Belasco’s San Francisco presentment the fall of Coupeau was so skilfully managed that, on the opening night, it was for several moments supposed by the audience that an actual accident had occurred. This was the cast:
| Coupeau | James O’Neill. |
| Lantier | Lewis Morrison. |
| Mes Bottes | C. B. Bishop. |
| Bibi-La-Grillade | James A. Herne. |
| Bec-Sali | John N. Long. |
| Pere Bazonge | John W. Jennings. |
| Goujet | Forrest Robinson. |
| Gervaise | Rose Coghlan. |
| Big Virginie | Lillian Andrews. |
| Mme. Boche | Jean Clara Walters. |
| Mme. Lorieleaux | Mollie Revel. |
| Nana | Katherine Corcoran. |
| Clémence | Blanche Thorn. |
A HOT WATER REHEARSAL.
Talking with me about this play, Belasco remarked: “We had a lively time getting that piece licked into shape and produced. The cast was, practically, an ’all star’ one (far finer, I know, than I could get together to-day), several of the members having been specially engaged, and it took a good deal of diplomacy to keep things tranquil and everybody contented. I remember I had an even more disagreeable passage with Lillian Andrews (who had been brought in to play Big Virginie) than that at my first meeting with Miss Coghlan. The Washhouse Scene was a hard one—you couldn’t fool with it; the only way to make it go was to do it!—and at the dress rehearsal Miss Andrews refused point-blank to go through it as it was to be done at night. Both she and Miss Coghlan were under dressed with close-fitting rubber suits to keep them dry; but, even so, it was no fun to be drenched with hot soapy water, and I was sorry for them. But, of course, the scene had to be properly and fully rehearsed, and the upshot was I had to tell Miss Andrews she must do her business as directed or leave the company. And, after a grand row, we had the scene as it was to be at night. She and Coghlan and everybody concerned were in such tempers by the time I finished reading the riot act that everything was marvellously realistic; I doubt whether it was ever quite so well done at a public performance!”
Belasco’s “L’Assommoir” ran until July 30, when Miss Coghlan ended her season in San Francisco. On the 31st Steele Mackaye’s “Won at Last” was first performed at the Baldwin; and, on August 11, came little Lotta, in “Musette,” “La Cigale,” and other plays, her engagement extending to September 6.
THE PLAY OF “CHUMS.”
While thus employed at the Baldwin Theatre,—that is, at some time between May and August, 1879,—Belasco was asked by James O’Neill to write a play for his use and that of Lewis Morrison (1844-1906), his intimate friend, and he had begun the adaptation of an old drama, which he purposed to entitle “Chums.” His original intention was that this should be produced with O’Neill and Morrison in the chief parts (those actors being desirous of leaving the Baldwin Theatre stock company and establishing themselves, under a joint business management, as co-stars); but he had made no contract nor even mentioned his project, and when, later, his adapted play, then incomplete, by chance became