Nat Goodwin's Book

Shall I ever again enjoy that pleasure?

I wonder.

    August, 1913

It was a long time ago I wrote the preceding encomium. To-day I am suing Mr. Tyler for a large sum of money for breach of contract! But I meant it when I wrote it and I mean it still! And it goes as it stands!

Chapter LXXVII

I FIND THE VERY BEST PHYLLIS

Fate in the person of George Broadhurst may seem incongruous to those who know that dramatist – but Fate is not to be held accountable for his guises! And it was through Broadhurst that Fate brought onto my horizon a young woman who presently was to save my life – and that is the least of countless benefits she has bestowed upon me!

Broadhurst spent most of his time in Southern California from 1907 to 1909 and not a little of it at my beach home. After my long run of failures I hoped I had landed a winner in his new play "The Captain" which I took to New York for production there. He accompanied me and undertook to select the cast. It was he who engaged as my leading woman Miss Margaret Moreland.

The play was a fizzle as complete as any of the others. Until it proved a disastrous failure I never knew it was not all Broadhurst's. He told me afterwards he had written it in collaboration with some "unknown!"

To round out my season I revived several of my tried and trusted old plays and did fairly good business on the road. If I accomplished nothing else that season could be set down by me as a success inasmuch as I discovered in Miss Moreland's acting of Phyllis in "When We were Twenty-One," the finest performance that rôle ever received – and I knew that in her lay the ability to become a really great emotional actress – a distinct discovery in these days.

When I received an offer at the close of the season to go to Los Angeles and appear in a repertoire of my plays at the Auditorium Theatre where a new stock company was being formed, I accepted. On my arrival there I found the whole city wildly excited over this first attempt at opposition which the Emperor of Stage Land in Southern California, Oliver Morosco, had ever been called upon to throttle. It was a battle royal while it lasted. The Auditorium, which seats 3500, was packed at every performance – at very cheap prices. During the several months of my engagement Morosco spent many thousands of dollars tying up all the plays available for stock performances he could lay his hands on. Also my engagement served to increase the salaries of a number of Morosco's actors who he feared were about to desert him. For me it was a brief holiday and amusing.

I recruited a company in Los Angeles following this engagement, engaging Miss Moreland as my leading woman, and opened in Phoenix, Arizona, playing my way across the country and arriving in New York in the holiday season in 1911. It was during this cross-country tour that I received a telegram from George C. Tyler which resulted in my proving to not a few doubting Thomases that I could "come back."

I have constantly referred to Fate taking my cue from Homer. Now I learn he used this word simply to save time! It seems it is "the fates" who have directed my course through life. With those three little maids from school, Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos leading me along with their silken threads through my nose, allowing me to go on and on and then reeling me back again as one toys with a yellowtail, is it any wonder I've made so many failures? Had I only known I should have given up long ago!

Young ladies, you've certainly made it warm for me!

A love scene on the stage, properly played, leads to recriminations – if an explanation is demanded by the one left at home.

An "American beauty" is a flower which seeks to adorn a coronet. Wear one as a boutonnière – but never, never marry one!

Marriage in the profession should be made obligatory.

Chapter LXXVIII

THE LAMBS CLUB

What a remarkable institution is the Lambs Club!

I say institution because in its development during the past twenty years it has grown from a cozy little rendezvous for the tired actors after their night's work to a clearing house for plays, sketches and engagements of artists.

To visit that beautiful home on Forty-fourth Street between the hours of one and two o'clock is to imagine you are in a business man's luncheon club down town.

As I look back upon the many years when, of a cold winter's night, I would wander into the little Twenty-sixth Street home of the Lambs – I sigh deeply! Then I was sure to find a greeting from dear old Clay Greene, from that budding genius Gus Thomas. There were there to welcome me also the erratic Sydney Rosenfeldt, suave Frank Carlisle, dominant Wilton Lackaye, brilliant Maurice Barrymore, dear old Lincoln (now passed away) and countless others, including clever Henry Dixey, then at the zenith of his success, the Holland boys and – but then why continue?

It was then we knew how to spend the time, how to regale ourselves and how to pass many, many happy hours with anecdote and song. All the members knew each other in those days. I, among many others, never entered the club without embracing that dearest of men, George Fawcett. There were no favored few in those days. It was one for all and all for one. Clever John Mason and that equally talented artist, George Nash, were the staunchest upholders of this slogan.

How different now!

As I enter the Lambs Club today I scarcely know a member. Almost all of the old guard have passed away. As I look into the faces of the many unknown to me it seems almost impossible that I have not wandered into the wrong building! But presently I find Gus Thomas and a few remaining members of the old flock – and then all is well once more.

Thomas has developed into the greatest American dramatist – as I knew he would. To be sure now and then one of his plays fails to meet with favor while perhaps one of the anaemic Broadhurst's sensual plays is meeting with success, but Thomas's plays will live and be in the libraries of America when the products of these ephemeral writers have been consigned to the waste baskets of obscurity.

I consider Thomas not only a great dramatist but a great American. I am sure if he had entered politics the world would have recognized him as a great statesman. With a suavity of manner, full of repose and a geniality which few possess, Thomas exerts on an audience a combined feeling of restfulness and awe. I never heard him utter an unkind word to anybody nor discuss an actor's or author's ability with anything approaching antagonism. He goes along quietly and unassumingly, writes a couple of failures and then – bang! – he hits you in the eye with a play that has a knock-out punch.

Such plays as "The Witching Hour" and "As a Man Thinks" will be acted when he and his many admirers shall have long since passed into the great beyond.

Augustus Thomas I count the Pinero of America – and a true American gentleman. We have been friends for twenty years and I am proud of that friendship.

In the same spirit of thanksgiving I may mention my friendship for John Mason. Surely the American public must be proud of this splendid player. John and I were very dear pals in our younger days and we have kept up the friendship to date. In those days John was prone to indulgence in all the existing vagaries of the moment and never took himself seriously until recently. But now he has settled down and showed his real merits as an actor.

The fact that he is a great favorite in London speaks volumes for his capability.

I sincerely hope that John Mason may be spared for many years to show this great American public that there are a few American artists still capable of delivering the goods.

John! I wish you continued success, for you deserve it!

In casting a play nowadays, never seek ability, seek only "personality."

The true philosophy of life is to try to achieve something and when you have – forget it.

Put a uniform on the average middle class "American" and you make of him a vulgar despot.

Chapter LXXIX

I "COME BACK"

Tyler's telegram contained an offer to play Fagin in an all-star production of "Oliver Twist" to be produced in February, 1912, on the occasion of the Dickens' centenary celebration. It had been a long time, the longest time in my entire stage career, that I had been without a successful characterization in New York – and the thought of giving my interpretation of the famous Jew appealed to me. I accepted.

The production was very good. The company was quite capable. Associated with me were Constance Collier, Lyn Harding, Marie Doro and other equally well-known and finished artists. Fuller Mellish's performance of Mr. Grimwig was one of the most delightful bits of character acting I ever saw.

We opened at the New Amsterdam Theatre to a capacity audience and tremendous business was the rule during the entire engagement. It was a fine playhouse in which to stage such a pretentious production as Tyler had given the play. There is little doubt that "Oliver Twist" might have remained at the New Amsterdam almost indefinitely had it not been that other, earlier bookings compelled us to move out. The demand for seats was so great, however, that Charles Frohman welcomed us at the Empire Theatre where, much to my surprise (for it is altogether too small and "intimate" a place for such a production as this), it continued to "turn 'em away."

The critics were all very enthusiastic. It amused me not a little to detect in several of the reviews expressions of surprise that I was able to portray Fagin to the reviewer's satisfaction. Of course I knew all along that the Rialto and Park Row were a unit in declaring that I could never "come back." I think perhaps the simple fact that I made Fagin a humorous old codger instead of the sinister object our very best tragedians have always painted him may account for the laudatory notices my work received.

But there can't be any question about Fagin. He was a comedian – positively! Think of his telling Charlie Bates he would give "dear little Oliver a treat" – by letting him sleep in that awful, awful bed of his! Oh yes, Fagin never stopped having silent laughs. And I liked him for it.

While we were playing to packed houses at every performance at the Empire Tyler sailed for Europe assuring us he would send us out on tour after the Empire Theatre engagement. He said we were to go to the Coast and continue the tour throughout the following season. As a result I turned down a very flattering offer to appear in New York that fall. Had he not failed to keep his promise I should have been spared a year of physical suffering!

But he did break his promise. A week after the Titanic disaster we received notice that the season was at an end so far as "Oliver Twist" was concerned.

And now, having "come back" I foolishly determined to go back – and I started for California once more. I've always thought Greeley's advice should have read, "Go West, old man!"

Chapter LXXX

I "GO BACK"

The summer of 1912 proved very eventful!