Beloved Scoundrel

by Clarissa Ross

  After her initial emotional reaction she began to try and make some plans. The understudy could play for the afternoon performance of The Rivals. But tonight the company was scheduled to do Richelieu and she knew the young man, while he might know the lines, was not equal to playing the famous Cardinal. Peter had been no more than adequate in it but had insisted on it being including in their schedule.

  She would have to send a telegram to Barnum and ask his advice. She would also check at the box-office and see if the house was well sold out. Lately all the evening performances had been crowded, with a number of standees at the back. The city was filled with troops on leave or waiting to go to the front, many of them young officers who enjoyed an evening in the theatre. In many, cases the last they would ever experience. Her heart was tormented by the sight of the earnest, young faces as the junior officers stood to applaud her at the end of a performance.

  To disappoint such patrons was almost traitorous. It showed what she had always suspected, that Peter had no true love for the theatre.

  She went downstairs and checked to see if Peter Cortez had truly checked out of the hotel. The puzzled clerk told her that he had. He said, “He left a while ago for the railway station. He took only one bag with him. The rest are to be packed for him and sent on to his hotel in New York.”

  “I see,” she said, knowing there was no longer any hope of his changing his mind. It was settled now.

  The clerk asked, “Did he have some bad news?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “What about the plays? Will they go on?” the clerk wanted to know.

  “I hope so,” she said. And she gave the clerk a look of concern. “I would appreciate your not mentioning this to anyone.”

  “Very well, madam,” the clerk said.

  “And I wish to send a telegram to Phineas T. Barnum in New York.”

  The clerk handed her a yellow pad and pencil. “If you will be good enough to write it out, Madam.”

  “Yes,” she said, taking pad and pencil. She thought a moment, then wrote: “Unhappy dispute between myself and Peter. He has left Washington. Will somehow try to keep company going without him. Advise immediately about replacement. Fanny.”

  She gave the clerk her message and he read it back to her and was well trained to the point that he betrayed no surprise at its contents. He simply told her, “I will see that it gets off at once, madam.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “And if the reply comes when I’m at the theatre send it there by messenger. “

  She walked hurriedly to the theatre where a morning run through had been scheduled for Richelieu which was to be the evening’s play. When she arrived she found Nancy Ray backstage talking to the stage manager, an elderly actor named Leroy Barnes. Fanny lost no time in joining them.

  “I have bad news,” she said.

  Nancy stared at her. “What now?”

  “Peter has left us!”

  The gray-haired Barnes showed disbelief on his lined, aristocratic face. “You’re saying that Peter Cortez has left the company without any notice?”

  She sighed. “I’m afraid that is it.”

  “How could he!” Nancy said angrily. “How could he let us all down?”

  She told the blonde girl, “He was annoyed at John Wilkes Booth coming to see me last night. It developed into a personal argument and he decided to make me suffer by walking out on the company.”

  “That is shameful!” the pert ingenue said. She then asked, “What will we do?”

  Fanny said, “I’ve given is some thought coming over. The understudy should be able to get us through the matinee. And we’ll either have to find another actor able to play the Cardinal in tonight’s performance or cancel it.”

  Leroy Barnes showed concern on his ancient face. “In my prime I could step into a role at short notice. But now my memory is not up to such a quick study.”

  Fanny said, “I have sent a telegram to Mr. Barnum asking about a replacement. But whatever he does, no one will get here in time to do the play tonight.”

  Nancy said, “The understudy is bad in that role but surely better to give a poor performance than cancel.”

  Leroy Barnes turned to Fanny and said, “You’ll forgive me, Mrs. Cornish, but it seems to me you’ve overlooked the most hopeful possibility.”

  She said, “Oh?”

  The old man nodded. “Yes. You mentioned John Wilkes Booth having been here to see you. He is well known for his playing of Richelieu. If you could get him to join you it would be an extra attraction.”

  “I’d forgotten,” she admitted. “But even if he does know the part I’m not sure he is still in Washington.”

  “We can send someone to find out,” the old stage manager told her. “What do you think?”

  She didn’t hesitate. “Yes,” she said. “See if you can find him.”

  Nancy said, “We may as well run through the play with the understudy. Then if worse comes to worst we can use him.”

  “That would be wise,” she agreed.

  And so it was arranged. The company ran through the plan quickly with the understudy reading the Cardinal’s lines. Not only was he too young for the part, he didn’t know the lines well. He begged off the last act to go to his dressing room and firm himself in his lines for The Rivals, which was the afternoon play. At least this part was within his range.

  The first report on John Wilkes Booth came just before the curtain went up on the afternoon play. Leroy Barnes came to Fanny’s dressing room and informed her, “We found the hotel where he is booked and he hasn’t checked out.”

  “Did you talk to him?” she asked, already made up and in costume for the role of Lydia Languish.

  The old stage-manager looked unhappy. “No. He wasn’t in his room nor at the hotel.”

  “Did they have any idea where he might be?”

  Leroy Barnes looked down at his shoes. “They claimed it was not unusual for him to be away somewhere all night. Said he was always coming and going at odd times. And they suggested I try some of the saloons and bawd houses along the waterfront.”

  She felt sick with disappointment. “That means he’s probably hidden away somewhere drunk.”

  “I have my man making the rounds of the best known places at this very minute,” the stage manager advised her. “If he’s to be found we’ll find him!”

  All the company, including herself, were tense as the curtain rose on the matinee performance of The Rivals. Happily the audience was not large and with one minor lapse they did get through with the play. But the more important evening show loomed ahead.

  Nancy came to her after the curtain fell to ask, “Any word yet?”

  “Not that I know of,” she said. “The stage manager will know.”

  Leroy Barnes shook his head. “No word back from my man. He’s still looking.”

  She went up to her dressing room and Gloria helped her remove her costume and then she sat and took off her make-up. She was dressed for the street and ready to leave when Leroy Barnes came to see her.

  He held a telegram. “Came for you from New York. The hotel sent it here.”

  “I’ve been expecting it,” she said, tearing the envelope open quickly. “It’s from Mr. Barnum, He says: “Regret problem. Trying to find available name actor. Difficult because of war. Improvise as best you can until you hear from me.”

  Leroy Barnes looked grim. “We can improvise but it won’t be good. Mr. Barnum has never seen the understudy in Richelieu or he’d be more worried.”

  “Where is the understudy?”

  “Holed up in an empty dressing room trying to learn more of the Cardinal’s part,” Leroy Barnes said. “I can tell you I’ll be busy in the prompt corner tonight.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know what is best to do!”

  At that moment there were the sounds of male voices in argument from outside. And she felt a surge of excitement as she recognized one of the voices as that of John Wilkes Booth. He was
complaining loudly in sonorous tone.

  Then in the doorway of the dressing room there appeared a haggard Booth supported by the man who had been sent in search of him. Fanny saw the pale and bedraggled John Wilkes Booth clutching the other man for support and her hopes dropped at once.

  On seeing her Booth made a conspicuous attempt to pull himself together. He let go of the other man and supported himself by placing a hand on the door frame. With his other hand he pushed back his unruly, black, curly hair and tried to adjust his tie. Then he came forward to her unsteadily.

  “What is this all about?” he wanted to know. She stared at him in despair. “We have a crisis here. I hoped you might save us. But I see I was wrong!”

  Chapter 5

  John Wilkes Booth stood there unsteadily and looking baffled. He turned to the old stage manager and demanded, “What is she talking about?”

  Leroy Barnes spread his hands in a gesture of despair. “Peter Cortez left us this morning without notice. We had to use the understudy this afternoon but he’s not up the role tonight.”

  Booth groaned and rubbed a hand across his forehead. His handsome face showed that he realized the situation as he asked her, “Was this the result of our meeting last night?”

  “I’m afraid so,” she said quietly.

  “Damn the man for a fool and a weakling!” Booth said with disgust. “He has taken his spleen out on all the company! He is below contempt!”

  Leroy Barnes said, “We are doing Richelieu tonight and Mrs. Cornish recalled that you have often played the part. That was why we sought you out.”

  Booth listened and then asked her, “Is this true?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I did not expect you would so abuse yourself as not to be able to play.”

  He eyed her impatiently. “You make too much of it! My brother Edwin used to play night after night in no better shape than I am now. Drunk or sober I can play the Cardinal!”

  She said firmly, “In this company you would have to be sober. We can cancel the performance.”

  “No need!” John Wilkes Booth cried. “I’ll be ready to go on.” And to Leroy Barnes, he added, “Get me hot coffee! A pitcher full of it!”

  “Yes, sir,” the stage manager said and hurried off to comply with this request.

  For the first time Fanny began to have some faint hope again. She watched as Booth unsteadily made his way to the nearest chair and slumped down in it. His sparkling black eyes were dull now, and there were great blue circles under them. He stared listlessly ahead of him.

  She said, “Do you think you can truly sober up in time?”

  “Yes,” he said wearily. “I can!”

  “Then I’ll have the costumes brought to you for any changes in fitting. And do you need the sides to study the role?”

  He waves the suggestion away. “I know the part perfectly. All I need do is go over the movement of the scenes with your stage manager.”

  Fanny went to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It is very good of you to help.”

  Booth eyes her grimly. “You think so? Am I not the one responsible for the situation?”

  “You could not have guessed that Cortez would act as he did.”

  The actor said, “When I left you last night I was saddened by what you’d told me. I determined to bury my grief in liquor and carousing.”

  “You did a classical job of it,” she said wryly. “Why are you trying to destroy yourself?”

  He stared across at her and offered a bitter smile. “Because I am a genius and not recognized! My brother Edwin gets all the plaudits. And because I believe in the Confederacy and Lincoln and his crowd are determined to crush it! And mostly because I’m in love with you and you repudiate me like everyone else.”

  She shook her head. “This is not a time to talk of love.”

  “I would not betray you as Cortez did,” he said.

  “Please!” she told him.

  “What is Barnum going to do about replacing him?”

  “He’s trying to find someone. It’s not easy. Most of the good actors are working or have enlisted in the army.”

  John Wilkes Booth looked grim. “My brother Junius would be ideal. But he has returned to the West again. He’s considered a star out there.”

  Fanny decided to take the big risk. As she asked, “What about you?”

  His eyes showed some of the old fire. “You are inviting me to join your company?”

  “To star with me,” she said. “I would share the billing with you. It can be John Wilkes Booth and Fanny Cornish!”

  “Your honor me,” he said mockingly.

  “I know you would prefer to be on your own but perhaps this might be good for you. I could help you with your drinking and your excesses.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Reform me?”

  She blushed. “No. Just try to bring the best out of you.”

  He said, “I will play tonight. I promise no more than that.”

  “Please do consider it,” she begged him.

  He smiled at her. “You don’t know whether I’ll disgrace you or not tonight. You’d better wait.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be splendid if you manage to sober yourself,” she said.

  “I’m sober enough now not to make any wild promises,” he warned her. “I’m thinking of what has happened at Shiloh, Bull Run, and Antietam. I do not know how long I want to remain in Washington.”

  She said, “You should avoid politics as your brothers are doing.”

  “I cannot turn my back on what I believe in,” he said heavily. “There are times when I wish I could.”

  The stage manager returned with a pitcher of steaming hot coffee and a mug. He poured out a full mug for the actor and he took it and began to sip it. As it cooled he drank it all down. Then he asked for more.

  Fanny left him with the stage manager and went to find the wardrobe mistress. As she hurried from the room Leroy Barnes was explaining the movement of their version of the Richelieu plan.

  The entire company was on edge. It was a touch and go business getting John Wilkes Booth properly sober, fitting him into the various costumes and mapping out the stage directions for him.

  She was standing backstage when he came down in his flowing crimson robes of the Cardinal. She was impressed by the way he fitted the part. He looked as one might have expected the great Cardinal to look. Drawing on heavy leather gloves he came striding towards her.

  “Does my appearance please you?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “How do you feel?”

  “Never better!” he said with a smile and his usual charm. She knew this had to be far from the truth but if he needed this feeling to carry him through the evening, she did not mind.

  New posters had been made and placed outside the theatre and in the lobby. Word had come backstage that theatregoers arriving had expressed enthusiasm in John Wilkes Booth taking over as leading man. But there was still the actual performance to present.

  The lights in the house were dimmed and the curtain rose. From the first moment of the appearance of John as Richelieu there was a magic about the performance. Peter had only been a pale imitation of the severe, conniving master of all France. Booth’s manner of playing had great force as well as charm. He walked through the production without a falter!

  The curtain fell to literally thunderous applause. John Wilkes Booth showed a dignified mien and a pleasant smile as he brought her forward with him for several curtain calls. Then in a deliberate gesture she let go his hand and stepped back for him to receive the deserved acclaim of the audience for his own.

  For the final curtain call he reached out for her to rejoin him, which she did, and the audience cheered and many stood up in tribute to their performance. The curtain came down to stay and they faced each other in the center of the stage.

  “Are you satisfied?” he asked her.

  “More than that! I’m proud of you!” she said.

  “Then I am a genius?” He was
smiling.

  “Yes! Yes! You are!” she said emotionally.

  Still in their costumes they embraced. Booth kissed her gently and then led her offstage. The other members of the company had gone to the unusual trouble of waiting for them and now cheering them! She and John found themselves surrounded by a circle of cheering actors and stage workers.