Unhappily there was to be a rude awakening and it came the following morning. John was first to rise and in his dressing gown brought the fire to new life so that the room was as warm and pleasant as the panes at the window were cold and frostcoated. He kissed her tenderly to wake her and took her order for breakfast.
While the food was on its way he read the morning paper in front of the fireplace and she washed and put on her warmest long robe. Then she joined him, sitting on the floor before the fireplace.
“How I envy ordinary people!” she exclaimed, looking up at him with a smile. “They can live like this always. Enjoy each other in the morning. Be together all the day!”
He put down his paper and smiled, “I’m afraid that is hardly the ordinary people’s lot. You are thinking of the privileged wealthy!”
She pressed her head against his knees. “Well, whoever they are, I wish we could live like them!”
The handsome actor looked sadly amused. “You would tire of such a life sooner than you think, dear Fanny. I know you. Like myself, you are a kind of gypsy! And the theatre will always be the most important thing in your life.”
Fanny looked up at him with an attractive pouting expression on her lovely face. “I’m sure I could settle for that other sort of life with the right man.”
“Don’t believe it!”
She smiled. “Well, what does it matter? We have our own lives and who could be happier than we are this morning?”
His eyes were tender and he bent close to her and placing a hand under her chin, drew her lips to his. He murmured, “No one could be happier than I at this moment!”
Their romantic moment before the fireplace was interrupted by the arrival of the waiter with a table on wheels bearing their breakfast. He went about setting the table for them and then bowed and left. The table had been placed in front of the fireplace for comfort and they continued their conversation over a leisurely breakfast.
She said, “An actor came to pay me a visit at the theatre last night. A man named Eric Mason. It seems he knew David long ago.”
John did not seem to be listening to her. There was a slight frown on his face. He said, “Oh?”
“Yes,” she continued. “He and David were members of the same travelling company when they were both young. He appeared to be a nice man.”
“That is most interesting,” John Wilkes Booth said but he did not sound interested.
She touched her napkin to her lips as she finished with her tea and with a worried glance, asked him, “What is the matter, John?”
He stared at her a moment in silence. Then he got up from the table and began pacing back and forth impatiently. She at once recognized that he was going to have one of his dark moods. Those moments which she most feared.
Still pacing, he said, “Nothing is going well! The cause is close to lost!”
She gave him a pleading look. “Please don’t spoil things by going into one of your rages!”
He halted and frowned at her. “What can you expect of me? The morning paper is full of news of defeat for the Confederacy! That cursed Lincoln will be king before you know it!”
“Don’t talk such nonsense!”
He came back and sat across the table from her, leaning forward, as he said tensely, “I’m not talking nonsense! Make no mistake about it! If the South is defeated Lincoln is bound to be elected again! And he will never let the reins of government go. He will change the Constitution and have himself named the first monarch of the United States.”
“That is all mere speculation!”
His burning eyes fixed on hers and he said, “Those of us in the know happen to be sure this will come about. It now needs a desperate act to save the South.”
She stared at him, afraid to try and guess what he might offer next. She said, “This should not concern you!”
“It does,” he said, tautly. He hesitated and a cunning look crossed the handsome face. Almost a mad look. “I will tell you something but you must swear to keep silent.”
Fanny shook her head. “I want no part of your politics and spying!”
“As the woman I hope to marry, I must confide in you,” John Wilkes Booth went on urgently. “For over a year now a group of us have been concocting a plan to save the Confederacy if all else fails!”
“A group of you?”
“Yes. I have good people to help me. Michael O’Laughlin and Sam Arnold who were at school with me. A couple of others interested in the cause and Lewis Paine, a former Confederate army man. We have held meetings at the house of Mrs. Mary Surratt. Her son John is one of us.”
Fanny listened with growing dismay. “What sort of plan do you have?”
The mad eyes burned more brightly. “It concerns Lincoln!”
“Lincoln?”
“Yes,” the handsome actor went on excitedly. “Our plan is to capture him and spirit him away from Richmond. There he will be held hostage until the Union agreed to end the war on terms fair to the Confederacy!”
“You think you can actually kidnap the President?”
John Wilkes Booth showed disgust. “Lincoln is no more than an ordinary man. We have a plan. The moment will come when he is unguarded and we will capture him!”
“More likely you’d be mowed down by gunfire,” she said unhappily.
“I have every confidence in the scheme,” he said.
“But you can’t go to Washington,” she protested.
“You mustn’t leave here when we are at the peak of our success.”
He scowled. “The fate of my country is more important to me than a successful New York season!”
The more she heard the more distressed she was becoming. She said, “You aren’t actually thinking of putting this plan into action?”
He nodded. “I must. The South is on its knees.”
“What you do will not change things!”
“I must try!”
“What about your love for me? Your loyalty to Mr. Barnum?”
John stood up. “You know that I love you and that I admire Barnum more than any other manager I’ve worked under. But I cannot be kept from my destiny!”
She sat back in her chair limply. “When?” she asked in a dull tone.
“I cannot be sure,” he said. “I’m waiting for certain word from Washington. When it comes I cannot delay!”
“What about the play?”
“The understudy can take over,” he said. “I cannot concern myself with such puny problems.”
He quickly dressed for the street and when he’d put on his overcoat with its fur collar came to her to gently kiss her before leaving.
She looked up at him dolefully. “I’m so worried!”
“Don’t be,” he said, with one of his warm smiles. “If I don’t see you before I’ll talk to you at the theatre tonight.” And he left.
Fanny now had her turn of pacing up and down the room. She had not liked anything she’d heard and she knew the actor well enough to be sure he was sincere in all he’d said. He had bound her to keep silent when he’d confided in her but she worried that perhaps she should break her word and pass the grim news to P. T. Barnum.
Yet she did not want to cause trouble for John. There was a chance the moment for the plot would not present itself and all her fears were for nothing. She kept telling herself this and almost came to believe it. So she decided to say nothing to anyone and hope that it all might work out all right.
She remained in the comfort of her hotel room most of the day. Many people had been felled with complaints of the throat and lungs and she could not afford to be ill at this time. So she was especially good to herself.
After a light snack in the late afternoon she rested a little, hoping that John would show himself and accompany her to the theatre. But he didn’t arrive so she dressed in the horrid light of the fading afternoon. She had the clerk at the hotel desk get her a sleigh and drove to the theatre.
The first person to greet her was a worried-looking Leroy
Barnes. The old character man gazed at her in surprise and asked, “Is Mr. Booth not with you?”
“No,” she said, still tingling from the cold outside. “I have not seen him since this morning. Did he not come here for the morning rehearsal?”
The actor’s lined face showed his answer before he replied, “There has been no sign of him!”
She untied the strings of her purple bonnet and hastily said, “We must not lose heart!”
The character actor raised his eyebrows. “The play will begin in a little more than an hour.”
She pretended to be casual about it. “He has been late before. We’ll keep busy and he’ll arrive.”
“He’d better!” Leroy Barnes said gloomily.
Fanny entered her dressing room in a shocked state. Her maid was waiting for her and helped her off with her things. She sat before the makeup mirror staring into the glass at the features of the worried stranger who seemed to have nothing to do with her. She was in costume and giving the last moment touches to her makeup and still he had not arrived.
She knew now! She dared not admit it even to herself but she knew! She had sent her dresser to try and get some word. A last desperate hope that John might still arrive lingered as the door opened and the troubled Gloria came hurrying in with an envelope in her hand. The black maid thrust the envelope at her.
“The stage manager had this!” Gloria said.
She gave the black woman an agonized look as she took the envelope, and asked, “He has not come?”
“No, ma’am,” Gloria said, clearly trembling.
Fanny ripped open the envelope and read its message: “The call has come! I have no choice but to go! Your beloved, John Wilkes B.” She fought the tears which welled up in her eyes and in a taut voice told her dresser, “Fetch the stage manager at once!”
As she waited for him to come she stared at herself again in the mirror. She saw the mask of tragedy which her lovely face had become. Closing her eyes she made an effort to draw on all her years of training. Made herself remember her trouper father’s advice not to allow anything conquer her control of herself as an actress.
There was hurried footsteps behind her and she heard the agitated voice of Leroy Barnes, the character actor who had lately become the company stage manager, as he said, “What is it, Miss Cornish?”
She looked up at his troubled old face. “Disaster, old friend. John has left the city without any proper warning for us!”
The old man stared at her as he took this in. Then he asked, “Shall I make an announcement to the audience and tell them to line up at the box office for their money back?”
“No!” she said sharply. “We will play!”
“But how?” the old man asked.
“Delay the curtain a little. Get the understudy ready. We will somehow manage. Meanwhile, I will speak to the audience myself.”
Leroy Barnes gasped. “That is unheard of! It is not your responsibility!”
“I shall make it my responsibility,” she said, all resolve now that her mind had been made up. She rose from her dressing table and turning to him, said, “You will prepare the understudy while I’m addressing the audience. After all, they have come to see me and John.”
The old stage manager dropped his hands at his side, all protest silenced. He said, “Very well. I’ll make arrangements for you to take the stage.”
She made her way downstairs in costume for the play of the evening and passed the awed members of the company gathered silently backstage. Moving forward she allowed a stage hand to hold the curtain open a little so she could step out on the front of the stage, close to the hissing gas footlights.
At the sight of her there was a brief murmuring and then a kind of deathly silence. All the hundreds of faces in the party-darkened auditorium seemed to be staring up at her as if hypnotized.
She inclined her head in a gracious gesture and said, “I beg your cooperation. Due to an unexpected circumstance my co-star John Wilkes Booth will not be able to appear tonight. However, we propose to present the play with his understudy, Mr. Alfred Sloane, in his role.”
There was a louder murmuring now and many heads were turned and whispers exchanged among the patrons. She silenced them again by raising her hand and saying, “The company and I will consider it a tribute on your part that you remain for what I fully believe will be a completely enjoyable evening!” She bowed at this.
There was a moment of uneasy silence then a burst of applause. Fanny smiled at the audience and curtsied. This caused another spontaneous round of applause. She then made her way back from the apron into the prompter corner in the wings.
A frightened Alfred Sloane was waiting for her there in the costume of Captain Absolute. He said, “I think I can acquit myself favorably but I have not done the part for months.”
Dressed as Lydia Languish, she forced a smile for him, and tapped him gently on the arm with her fan. “I have no doubt you will do very well!”
Charles Dale, ready for his role of “Sir Anthony Absolute” father of the hero, came breathlessly to her, to inquire, “What has happened to my dear friend John?”
She said, “I cannot tell you. I only know he has left the city.”
“Left the city!” the stout, old man gasped. “Will it mean the closing of the company?”
“I hope not,” she sighed. “Just now I’m concerned as to how we get through the evening.”
She gave a signal for the curtain to go up and the play began. Alfred Sloane did not distinguish himself in his leading role but the balance of the company, including Fanny, labored hard to make up for his weakness by giving their best. The final curtain fell to sound applause. The audience had at least been satisfied.
Stage manager Leroy Barnes, was near by to congratulate her as she left the stage to go to her dressing room. “You worked wonders, Fanny. But what will happen when the word gets about that John Wilkes Booth is no longer leading man with the company?”
“I don’t know,” she said.
“Mr. Barnum is up in your dressing room waiting for you,” the stage manager warned her. “He came during the last act and went directly up there.”
“Thank you, Barnes,” she said and hurried up the iron steps to the level of her dressing room.
Phineas T. Barnum was seated in the room’s only big, comfortable chair, a cigar in his mouth, and a frown on his big, jowelled face.
“So it’s over at last,” he said, taking the cigar from his mouth. “How did it go?”
“Very well under the circumstances,” she said, standing before the great man still in her costume and makeup.
“How could this happen?” Barnum rumbled angrily.
“He gave me no warning!”
His eyes met hers. “I know you were more to each other than co-stars in the company. You have been living with him! How could he be planning to do something like this without your having any warning?”
Fanny bit her lip. “I did have a kind of warning. But it seemed so unlikely I couldn’t bring myself to discuss it with you!”
Barnum reminded her, “I engaged him on your word he could be made to behave. You are in a large part responsible!”
“I know.”
“Do you think there is any chance of his returning? I mean in time for tomorrow night’s performance.”
Fanny shook her head. “I’m afraid not.”
“You know where and why he had gone?”
“Yes,” she said. “He has gone to Washington. He and some other hotheads plan to kidnap President Lincoln and hold him hostage!”
Chapter 9
The famed Barnum showed utter consternation on his broad face as he heard this shocking news. It was a full moment before he gasped, “Mad! That young man has to be utterly mad!”
“I fear you are right,” she said solemnly.
“The authorities should be notified,” the showman said, rising.
“I disagree,” she said. “I’m certain his wild plan will come to not
hing. And we might only place him in more jeopardy.”
“You are thinking about Booth.”
“Yes,” she said, her eyes meeting Barnum’s. “I
must! He told me what he planned in confidence. And I cared deeply for him. We planned to marry when the war ended.”
Barnum studied her shrewdly. “Do you really think you will ever marry him?”
She shook her head. “Not now! I’m certain he will throw his life away in some impulsive, pointless act.”
Beloved Scoundrel Page 17