Journal Notes

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Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West

On August 24, 1863, San Francisco’s elite flocked to Maguire’s Opera House. Ladies in diamonds and furs rode up in handsome carriages; gentlemen in opera capes and silk hats strutted in stylishly. It was an opening night such as the city had never before seen. All one thousand seats in the theatre were filled with curious spectators anxious to see the celebrated melodramatic actress Adah Menken perform.

Adah was starring in the role that made her famous, that Prince Ivan in Mazeppa. It was rumored that she preferred to play the part in the nude. Newspapers in the East reported that audiences found the scantily clad thespian’s act “shocking, scandalous, horrifying and even delightful.”  The story line of the play was taken from a Byron poem in which a Tartar prince is condemned to ride forever in the desert snipped naked and lashed to a fiery, untamed steed. Adah insisted on playing the part as true to life as possible.

The audience waited with bated breath for Adah to walk out onto the stage, and when she did, a hush fell over the crowd. She was beautiful, possessing curly, dark hair and big, dark eyes. Adorned in a flesh-colored body nylon and tight-fitting underwear, she left the audience speechless.  During the play’s climatic scene, supporting characters strapped the star to the back of a black stallion. The horse raced up the narrow runway between cardboard mountain crags. The audience responded with thunderous applause. Adah Menken had captured the heart of another city in the West.

Adah became known as “The Frenzy of Frisco,” but wanted to be the frenzy of the entire West. In 1864 she took to the road again, traveling east to Virginia City, Nevada. She opened her Virginia City show on March 2, 1864. Tickets ranged in price from $1.00 for a single seat to $10.00  for a private box.

The theater was packed on opening night. Many people were forced to stand in the aisles, and hundreds were turned away. Local critics, including a young Samuel Clemens (later to be known as Mark Twain), were present to review her performance. Adah was ushered onto the stage by thunderous applause. She brought down the house, and appreciative miners threw silver ingots at her feet. Sam Clemens was thoroughly impressed. He would return numerous times to see Adah perform.

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On a warm spring day in 1921, more than two thousand women gathered at the Fox Hollywood Studio to film the all-female chariot race for the silent picture the Queen of Sheba. As the story centered around the ill-fated romance between Solomon, King of Israel, and the Queen of Sheba the majority of the cast were dressed in Biblical garb. The women who were to be driving the chariots were adorned in colorful tunics, leather helmets, and tall, period style boots. Each were focused on the four-horse team fastened to a yoke and attached to the vehicles.

Western cowboy actor and director Tom Mix belted out instructions to the camera crew to standby to begin filming and then prompted the drivers to take their places. Among the skilled chariot drivers was World Champion All-Around Horsewoman Lorena Trickey. Trickey caught the attention of studio head, William Fox during preproduction talks for the picture. He’d read an article about the twenty-eight-year-old’s talent in the saddle and believed she would be a perfect stuntwoman. In addition to setting records in relay racing, she was also an accomplished Roman style racer. In Roman riding the rider stands atop a pair of horses, with one foot on each horse. Before the shoot was over, Mix would call on Lorena to give a demonstration for the cameras.

Not long after filming had completed on the Queen of Sheba, the rodeo star lent her expertise to a picture with Mary Pickford entitled Through the Back Door. Pickford played a young woman who moves to America from Belgium just prior to WWI to search for her mother. Most of the horseback riding stunts in the picture were performed by Trickey.

To learn more about cowgirl actress and stuntwoman Lorena read

Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West

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Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West

The green, silk robe shimmered in the light of the dressing room.  Adjusting the neckline, Lillian Russell glanced into the mirror and considered the interviewer’s question about beauties never appreciating their good looks.  “I think they do,” she countered.  “They are glad to have it, as they are grateful for the gift.  I am pleased and gratified when someone says I look nice.”

Looking “nice” was a part of the job that the corn-fed beauty from America’s heartland never forgot.  The costume she wore in the second act of Lady Teazle showed off her abundant charms to perfection.  The green silk, the large, plumed hat, and the ebony walking stick adorned with orange ribbons were but a pretty frame for the statuesque blond performer whose sumptuous exterior diverted attention from a sharp mind and a warm heart.

As she continued dressing for the second act of the play, she answered questions from Miss Ada Patterson, longtime reporter for The Theatre Magazine.  How, asked Patterson, had a girl from Iowa earned the name “America’s Beauty”? “I came away from Clinton when I was six months old, and I don’t remember much about it,” she told the reporter.  A backward glance over a smooth, white shoulder gave a glimpse of the famous smile, curving perfect lips.  A spark of mischief flashed in the beautiful, blue eyes framed by long, thick eyelashes as she added, “Although there are Tabbies who say they remember my life there when I was six months old sixty years ago.”

The feature later published in The Theatre Magazine of February 1905 never came right out and said that America’s most famous beauty was now forty-three years old.  Behind her lay phenomenal success as well as heartbreak and failure, yet none of it dimmed the glow.  The interviewer that day compared the throat and shoulders rising from the green silk to the Venus de Milo.  The pure soprano voice still hit high C with ease, and, after more than twenty-three years on stage, the name Lillian Russell still drew people to the theater.

Lillian was not only beautiful but she had an amazing voice. The following is a link to an early recording of her voice.

https://tile.loc.gov/storage-services/media/recordedsound/Come-Down-Ma-Evenin-Star_Lillian-Russell.mp3

To learn more about Lillian Russell read

Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West

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A frigid wind blew hard past the weather-beaten exterior of the Palace Garden Theatre in Dawson City, Alaska.  It was the spring of 1900, and gleeful patrons were tucked warmly inside, waiting for the “Flame of the Yukon” to take the stage.

A fiery, red-headed beauty glided out before the crowd, her violent eyes smiling.  The men went wild with applause.  The music began, and the entertainer swayed with the beat, placing a gloved hand to her breast and a fingertip to her lips and then, stretching her arm out, beckoning her admirers.  The elaborate red-sequin dress she was wearing was form-fitting, and the long black cape that draped over her shoulders clung to her alabaster skin.

The piano player accelerated his playing, and Kate Rockwell gyrated gracefully in and out of the shadow of the colored lights that flickered across the stage.  After a moment, with a slight movement of her hand, she dropped the cape off her shoulders and it fell to the floor.  The glittering diamonds and rhinestones around her neck sparkled and shined.  Ever so seductively, she picked up a nearby cane adorned with more than 200 yards of red chiffon and began leaping, while twirling the fabric-covered walking stick.  Around and around she fluttered, the chiffon trailing wildly about her like flames from a fire, the material finally settling over her outstretched body.  The audience erupted in a thunderous ovation.  She was showered with nuggets and pouches filled with gold dust.  This dance would make her famous.

To learn more about Kate, the fortune she made entertaining, and what happened to her earnings read Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West

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Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West

Long before actors were vying for an Oscar nomination and world wide fame thespians were trying to carve out a modest living entertaining prospectors and settlers of the Old West. This month the curtain goes up on women entertainers who captured the hearts of the western pioneers.

Ladies and gentlemen, the immensely talented star of Peter Pan and The Lost Child, Maude Adams.

“I wish you could have seen Maudie that night. She was simply wriggling with excitement. It was all I could do to keep her in her dressing-room until the cue came for her to go on…. Just before the curtain went up I made her repeat her first-act lines to me. She had learned them like a parrot, to be sure, but she spoke them like a true little actress.”

Annie Adams’s comments about her daughter Maude’s first full performance at the age of 5 in November, 1877 at the Metropolitan Theatre in San Francisco.

The Palmer Theatre House in New York was jammed to the doors by a curious clientele all there to see the new actress working opposite the most celebrated actor of the day, John Drew. It was October 3, 1892 when the stunning, elfin-like Maude Adams took to the stage in the play “The Masked Ball.” At the end of the evening Drew would be congratulated on his admirable acting job, but Maude would score a hit that would be greater than his entire career. Her performance was so successful the applause lasted for a full two minutes after she made her exit. She was on her way to becoming a star and local newspapers predicted her talent would be talked about for years to come.

“Her performance (in the Masked Ball) was a revelation. There is one scene in the second act where in order to punish her husband for some ante nuptial remarks of his she has to pretend that she is drunk. It was just touch and go whether the scene ruined the play or not. It would have been hard to devise a more crucial test for an actress of even the wildest experience and the greatest skill. In order to carry off this scene successfully it was necessary for the wife to appear to be drunk and yet be a gentlewoman at the same time. Miss Adams achieved this feat. If Miss Adams had done nothing else throughout the entire play than that one scene it would have stamped her as a comedienne of the first order forever.” The New York Daily News – October 4, 1892

Maude Adams’s stage career began at the tender age of nine months. The play was called “The Lost Child” and the baby that was playing the lead became fussy and could not continue in the show after the first act. Maude’s mother, Annie, who was the female lead in the production, suggested her daughter take the child’s place. Maude was so good that the other baby received her two weeks notice immediately after the play ended. For the remainder of that season all the infant roles were played by little Miss Maude.

To learn more about Maude Adams and the other talented performers of the Old West read Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West.

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Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West

The Royal Aquarium in Westminster, England, was a hub of activity on April 6, 1876. Many members of London’s wealthy aristocratic society were on hand for the gala opening of the magnificent structure built entirely underwater.

Dignitaries, barristers, popular sculptors, artists, and photographers were there to witness the occasion and to be inspired by the colorful coral reefs, graceful marine life, and crystal-blue waters. Their attention, however, was drawn away from the oceanic scenery when a tall, curvaceous young woman with Titian red hair entered the room. She was adorned in a simple black gown. Her azure eyes scanned the faces staring back at her, and she smiled ever so slightly. Within moments of her arrival, visitors descended upon the woman to admire her beauty.

Eminent portrait painters and photographers approached the unassuming woman and asked her to sit for them. Poets sought introductions and then recited blank verse about her arresting features. By the end of the evening, Lillie Langtry was the toast of Great Britain-a Professional Beauty to be reckoned with.

Emile “Lillie” Charlotte LeBrenton was born to William Corbet and Emilie Martin LeBreton in October of 1853 on the Isle of Jersey, a few miles off the coast of Saint-Malo, France. She was the only daughter in a family of six children. Beauty alone was responsible for Lillie Langtry’s initial renown. Her photographs were printed in England and American newspapers, and by the time she was twenty-seven years old she was as famous in those countries as she was in her own.

The writer Oscar Wilde, whom Lillie had met at society parties, convinced her that the theatre was her calling and helped her get her start in the business. Lillie took the stage for the first time on December 15, 1881, in the play She Stoops to Conquer at the Theatre Royal. She was an instant hit.

To learn more about Lillie Langtry read

Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West

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Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Signers of the Old West

Mary Todd Lincoln screamed.  Clara Harris, seated in the balcony adjacent to President Abraham Lincoln’s wife, jumped out of her seat and rushed to the hysterical woman’s side.  “He needs water!”  Harris cried out to the audience at Ford’s Theatre staring up at her in stunned silence.  “The President’s been murdered!”  The full, ghastly truth of the announcement washed over the congregation and the scene that ensued was as tumultuous and as terrible as one of Dante’s pictures of hell.  Some women fainted, others uttered piercing shrieks and cries for vengeance, and unmeaning shouts for help burst from the mouth of men.

Beautiful, dark-haired actress, Laura Keene hurried out from the wings dressed in a striking maroon colored gown under which was a hoop skirt and number of petticoats that made the garment sway as she raced to a spot center stage.  She paused for a moment before the footlights to entreat the audiences to be calm.  “For God’s sake, have presence of mind, and keep your places, and all will be well.”  Laura’s voice was a brief voice of reason in a chaotic scene.  Few could bring their panic under control.  Mary Lincoln was in shock and sat on her knees beside her mortally wounded husband rocking back and forth.  She cradled her arms in her hands and sobbed uncontrollably.

Laura ordered the gas lights around the theatre turned up.  Patrons bolted toward the building’s exits.  As they poured out into the streets they told passersby what had occurred.  Crowds began to gather and there were just as many people coming back into the theatre as were trying to leave.  Laura stepped down off the stage and began fighting against the current of people pressing all around her.

Word began to pass through the frantic group that John Wilkes Booth was responsible for shooting the President.  Sharp words were exchanged between the individuals coming in and going out of the building.  Insane grief began to course through the theatre and ugly suppositions started to form.  “An actor did this!”  Laura wrote in her memoirs about what people were saying at the event.  “The management must have been in on the plot!  Burn the damn theatre!  Burn it now!”  Laura disregarded the remarks and somehow worked her way to the rear box where Mr. Lincoln was and stepped inside.

To learn more about Laura Keene and her career after President Lincoln’s assassination read Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West

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According to Kate: The Legendary Life of Big Nose Kate, Love of Doc Holliday

The last news Kate heard about Doc (after the Gunfight at the OK Corral and the Vendetta Ride) was that he was in Leadville, Colorado, and on trial for shooting a bartender named Billy Allen. “They arrested him and telegraphed to Tombstone that they had Doc Holliday,” Kate recalled years later.

“A deputy from Tombstone was sent for him with a requisition. Governor Tabor of Colorado refused to sign the document and told the Arizona deputy that Doc Holliday was too good a man to turn over to the Arizona cow thieves. He would not sign the requisition. Doc was free.” Doc was eventually acquitted and moved to Denver.

Kate received a letter from Doc in April 1887. He had plans to travel to Glenwood Springs and wanted her to meet him there. Kate couldn’t refuse the invitation. “Holliday at last broke away from the Earps at Gunnison,” Kate wrote years later. “A [chain] mail shirt was the cause of their parting company. Wyatt had a job to pull and was going to wear the mail shirt. But Doc said to Wyatt, ‘No, you don’t. If you want me to go into anything with you, you have to take the same chance I do or else we quit right here. I thought you had got rid of that shirt long ago.’* “Wyatt insisted on wearing the mail shirt, so Doc left that evening and hit the trail for Leadville. But it was too cold for him, and he went from there to Denver, and later to Glenwood Springs. All those places were in Colorado.”

Kate and Doc reunited in Glenwood Springs in May 1887. Doc’s health had substantially deteriorated. The disease that had been in remission for a time was now fully awake and eating his lungs from the inside out. His lungs were now mostly engulfed in liquid and sloshing around in his chest. Doc struggled to breathe and coughed all the time. Kate noted in her memoir that when he arrived in the area he had tried to return to dentistry to support himself, but the persistent cough made the work impossible to do. Doc then took a short-term job guarding a mining claim for a well-known prospector. According to Kate, Doc also served as “Under Sheriff of Garfield County under Sheriff Ware.”

To learn what became of Kate and Doc read

According to Kate: The Legendary Life of Big Nose Kate, Love of Doc Holliday

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According to Kate: The Legendary Life of Big Nose Kate, Love of Doc Holliday

“Doc and Ike Clanton had some words in a restaurant,” Kate recalled about the events of the first night she returned to Tombstone in late October 1881. “In the morning Ike Clanton came to Fly’s photograph gallery with a Winchester rifle. Mrs. Fly told him that Doc was not there. Doc was not up yet. I went to our room and told Doc that Ike Clanton was outside looking for him and that he was armed. Doc said, ‘If God lets me live long enough to get my clothes on, he shall see me.’ “With that he got up and dressed.

“On going out he said, ‘I won’t be here to take you to breakfast, so you had better go alone.’ I didn’t go to breakfast. I don’t remember whether I ate anything or not that day. In a little more than a half an hour the shooting began. This lady friend and I went to the side window, which faced the vacant lot. There was Ike Clanton, young Bill Clanton, Frank McLowry [sic], and his brother Tom on one side, Virgil, Wyatt, and Morgan Earp and Doc Holliday on the other.

“Before the first shot was fired Ike Clanton ran and lost his hat and left his young brother and the McLowry boys to fight it out.* I was at the side window looking on and saw the fight. Doc had a sawed-off shotgun. He fired one barrel, but after the first shot something went wrong. He threw the gun on the ground and finished the fight with his revolver. I saw him fall once. His hip had been grazed by a bullet. But he was on his feet again in an instant and continued to fire.

“Bill Clanton and the McLowry boys were killed. Morgan and Wyatt [she meant Virgil Earp] were wounded. It’s foolish to think a cow ‘rustler’ gunman can come up to a city gunman in a gunfight. After the fight was over, Doc came to our room and sat on the side of the bed and cried and said, ‘Oh, this is just awful—awful.’ I asked, ‘Are you hurt?’ He said, ‘No, I am not.’ He pulled up his shirt. There was just a pale red streak about two inches long across his hip where the bullet had grazed him. After attending to the wound, he went out to see how Virgil and Wyatt [she meant Morgan this time] were getting along.”

To find out all that Kate recalled about the most famous gunfight in the West read

According to Kate: The Legendary Life of Big Nose Kate, Love of Doc Holliday

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According to Kate: The Legendary Life of Big Nose Kate, Love of Doc Holliday

It was a chilly evening in mid-March 1881.  Kate had traveled from Globe to Tombstone to see Doc.  According to her, she had made the trip at his request.  She noted in her memoirs that they lost no time settling their differences.  The smoke from an oil lamp in his room coiled wraith-like to the ceiling, smirching the cobwebs that festooned the top of the faded curtains.  Kate studied the sad looking, window coverings in the reflection of the mirror into which she was staring.  She had been pinning her hair up and playing with a pair of earrings when she noticed the breeze from the partially opened window ruffle the curtains.  Kate anticipated spending a great deal of time with Doc in the room and pondered whether to update the décor.

Doc had taken up residence on Sixth Street in a small boarding house positioned between a funeral parlor and a winery.  The furnishing was sparse and covered with dust.  Kate’s things were scattered about the room.  Doc had promised to take her to dinner when he returned from the errand he had rushed off to handle.  Once she finished getting ready for the night out she turned her attention to a copy of the Arizona Weekly Citizen lying on a chair by the door.  A story about a murder and an attempted stage robbery twenty-eight miles from Tombstone caught her eye.

“Detective R. H. Paul was on the box with the driver at the time, and his double-barreled Winchester rested by his side,” the March 20, 1881, article noted.  “It is believed that the Cow-boys were completely surprised to find Paul upon the stage, as no two of them would attempt to tackle Paul.  At the first word, ‘Hold!’  Paul coolly reached for his gun, exclaiming, ‘By God!  I hold for nobody!’  It is a question who fired first, Paul or the robbers; but the crack of the rifles were almost simultaneous, frightening the leaders into a run.  Paul emptied both barrels of his gun, and his revolver, while the stage was rattling along as fast as the horses could haul it.  The driver had fallen dead from the box, and a passenger who was upon the box was dying with a mortal wound.  As soon as Paul could regain the lines that had fallen from the hands of Bud Philpot, who was shot through the heart, he drove and transferred Wells, Fargo & Co.’s box and the United States mail intact to J. D. Kinnear, the agent of the line at Benson, and the frightened passengers were sent through to Tombstone.  Paul then started back, accompanied by four men, to the scene of the attack.  Later particulars are awaited here with great interest.

“A vigilance committee was lately formed at Tombstone, backed by all the money necessary to take these parties in hand and teach them a lesson.”

To find out what Kate says happened leading up to the gunfight at the OK Corral read

According to Kate: The Legendary Life of Big Nose Kate, Love of Doc Holliday