As I Remember
by the way died abroad in 1906, nearly ninety-nine years of age, came to
this country and remained for quite a period. I have heard many sad
traditions regarding Malibran, whose name is certainly immortal in the
annals of the musical world. Mr. Lynch was the social leader of his day
in New York, was aesthetic in his tastes, and possessed a highly
cultivated voice. He frequently sang the beautiful old ballads so much
in vogue at that period. I have heard through Mrs. Samuel L. Hinckley,
an old friend of mine, who remembered the incident, that during a visit
to Boston when he sang Tom Moore's pathetic ballad, "Oft in the Stilly
Night," there was scarcely a dry eye in the room. In referring to the
introduction of the Italian Opera into this country Dr. John W. Francis
in his "Old New York" thus speaks of Dominick Lynch: "For this
advantageous accession to the resources of mental gratification, we were
indebted to the taste and refinement of Dominick Lynch, the liberality
of the manager of the Park Theater, Stephen Price, and the distinguished
reputation of the Venetian, Lorenzo Da Ponte. Lynch, a native of New
York, was the acknowledged head of the fashionable and festive board, a
gentleman of the ton and a melodist of great powers and of exquisite
taste; he had long striven to enhance the character of our music; he was
the master of English song, but he felt, from his close cultivation of
music and his knowledge of the genius of his countrymen, that much was
wanting, and that more could be accomplished, and he sought out, while
in Europe, an Italian _troupe_, which his persuasive eloquence and the
liberal spirit of Price led to embark for our shores where they arrived
in November, 1825." Stephen Price here referred to by Dr. Francis was
the manager of the old Park Theater. Dominick Lynch's grandson, Nicholas
Luquer, who with his charming wife, formerly Miss Helen K. Shelton of
New York, resides in Washington, and his son, Lynch Luquer, inherit the
musical ability of their ancestor.
The great actors of the day performed in the Park Theater. I also
vividly remember the Bowery Theater, as well as in subsequent years
Burton's Theater in Chambers Street and the Astor Place Theater. When
William C. Macready, the great English actor, was performing in the
latter in 1849 a riot occurred caused by the jealousy existing between
him and his American rival, Edwin Forrest. Forrest had not been well
received in England owing, as he believed, to the unfriendly influence
of Macready. While the latter was considered by many the better actor,
Forrest was exceptionally popular with a certain class of people in New
York whose sympathies were easily enlisted and whose passions were
readily aroused. During the evening referred to, while Macready was
acting in the _role_ of Macbeth, a determined mob attacked the theater,
and the riot was not quelled until after a bitter struggle, in which the
police and the military were engaged, and during which twenty-one were
killed and thirty-three wounded.
In consequence of this unfortunate rivalry and its bloody results,
Forrest became morbid, and his domestic infelicities that followed
served to still further embitter his life. In 1850 his wife instituted
proceedings for divorce in the Superior Court of the City of New York,
and the trial was protracted for two years. She was represented by the
eminent jurist, Charles O'Conor, while Forrest employed "Prince" John
Van Buren, son of the ex-President. The legal struggle was one of the
most celebrated in the annals of the New York bar. There was abundant
evidence of moral delinquency on the part of both parties to the suit,
but the verdict was in favor of Mrs. Forrest. She was the daughter of
John Sinclair, formerly a drummer in the English army and subsequently a
professional singer. James Gordon Bennett said of her in the _Herald_
that "being born and schooled in turmoil and dissipation and reared in
constant excitement she could not live without it."
I have heard it said that one day John Van Buren was asked by a
disgruntled friend at the close of a hotly contested suit whether there
was any case so vile or disreputable that he would refuse to act as
counsel for the accused. The quick response was: "I must first know the
circumstances of the case; but what have you been doing?" Dr. Valentine
Mott, who for many years was a resident of Paris, gave a fancy-dress
ball in New York in honor of the Prince de Joinville, son of Louis
Philippe. At this entertainment John Van Buren appeared in the usual
evening dress with a red sash tied around his waist. Much to the
amusement of the guests whom he met, his salutation was: "Would you know
me?" It will be remembered that he was familiarly called "Prince John,"
owing to the fact that he had once danced with Queen Victoria prior to
her ascension to the throne. One day Van Buren met on the street James
T. Brady, a lawyer of equal ability and wit, who had recently returned
from a visit to England. In a most patronizing manner he inquired
whether he had seen the Queen. "Certainly," said Mr. Brady, "and under
these circumstances. I was walking along the street when by chance the
Queen's carriage overtook me, and the moment Her Majesty's eye lighted
upon me she exclaimed: 'Hello, Jim Brady, when did you hear from John
Van Buren?'" I recall another amusing anecdote about John Van Buren
during my school days. Mustaches were at that time worn chiefly by the
sporting element. Mr. Van Buren, who was very attentive to Catharine
Theodora Duer, a daughter of President William Alexander Duer of
Columbia College, and who, by the way, never married, adopted this style
of facial adornment, but the young woman objecting to it he cut it off
and sent it to her in a letter. Prince John Van Buren's daughter, Miss
Anna Vander Poel Van Buren, many years thereafter, married Edward
Alexander Duer, a nephew of this Catharine Theodora Duer.
It was my very great pleasure to know Fanny Kemble and her father,
Charles Kemble. She was, indeed, the queen of tragedy, and delighted the
histrionic world of New York by her remarkable rendering of the plays of
Shakespeare. In later years when I heard her give Shakespearian
readings, I regarded the occasion as an epoch in my life. In this
connection I venture to express my surprise that the classical English
quotations so pleasing to the ear in former days are now so seldom
heard. It seems unfortunate that the epigrammatic sentences, for
example, of grand old Dr. Samuel Johnson have become almost obsolete. In
former years Byron appealed to the sentiment, while the more ambitious
quoted Greek maxims. The sayings of the old authors were recalled,
mingled with the current topics of the day. It would seem, however, that
the present generation is decidedly more interested in quotations from
the stock exchange. Edmund Burke said that "the age of chivalry is
gone, that of sophists, economists, and calculators has succeeded."
Upon her return to England Fanny Kemble published her journal kept while
in the United States, which was by no means pleasing in every respect to
her American readers. It is said that in one of her literary effusions
she dwelt upon a custom, which she claimed was prevalent in America, of
parents naming their children after classical heroes, and gave as an
example a child in New York who bore the name of Alfonzo Alonzo
Agamemnon Dionysius Bogardus. The sister of this youth, she stated, was
named Clementina Seraphina Imogen. I think this statement must have been
evolved from her own brain, as it would be difficult to conceive of
parents who would consent to make their children notorious in such a
ridiculous manner. Fanny Kemble married Pierce Butler, a lawyer of
ability and cousin of the U.S. Senator from South Carolina of the same
name, and they were divorced in 1849, when the Hon. George M. Dallas was
counsel for Fanny Kemble and Rufus Choate appeared for her husband.
Fanny Elssler, a queen of grace and beauty on the stage, delighted
immense audiences at the Park Theater. She came to this country under
the auspices of Chevalier Henry Wikoff, a roving but accomplished
soldier of fortune, who pitched his camp in both continents. Upon her
arrival in New York the "divine Fanny," as she was invariably called,
was borne to her destination in a carriage from which the horses had
been detached by her enthusiastic _adorateurs_, led by August Belmont.
She was, indeed,
A being so fair that the same lips and eyes
She bore on earth might serve in Paradise.
At this distant day it seems almost impossible to describe her. She
seemed to float upon the stage sustained only by the surrounding
atmosphere. In my opinion she has never had a rival, with the possible
exception of Taglioni, the great Swedish _danseuse_. I saw Fanny Elssler
dance the _cracovienne_ and the _cachucha_, and it is a memory which
will linger with me always. The music that accompanied these dances was
generally selected from the popular airs of the day. Many dark stories
were afloat concerning Fanny Elssler's private life, but to me it seems
impossible to associate her angelic presence with anything but her
wonderful art. She was never received socially in New York; indeed, the
only person that I remember connected with the stage in my early days
who had the social _entree_ was Fanny Kemble.
We attended the Dutch Reformed Church in New York of which the Rev. Dr.
Jacob Brodhead was for many years the pastor. My aunts, however,
attended one of the three collegiate churches in the lower part of the
city, and I sometimes accompanied them and, as there was a frequent
interchange of pulpits, I became quite accustomed to hear all of the
three clergymen. The Rev. Dr. John Knox, who endeared himself to his
flock by his gentle and appealing ministrations; the Rev. Dr. Thomas De
Witt, a profound theologian and courtly gentleman; and the Rev. Dr.
William C. Brownlee, with his vigorous Scotch accent, preaching against
what he invariably called "papery" (popery), and recalling, as he did,
John Knox of old, that irritating thorn in the side of the unfortunate
Mary Queen of Scots, made up this remarkable trio. During the latter
part of his life Dr. Brownlee suffered from a stroke of paralysis which
rendered him speechless, and his Catholic adversaries improved this
opportunity to circulate the report that he had been visited by a
judgment from Heaven.
There were many shining lights in the Episcopal Church at this time in
New York. The Rev. Dr. William Berrian was the acceptable rector of St.
John's, which was then as now a chapel of Trinity Parish. The Rev. Dr.
Francis L. Hawks was the popular rector of St. Thomas's church, on the
corner of Broadway and Houston Streets. He was a North Carolinian by
birth, but is said to have been in part of Indian descent. I recall with
pleasure his masterly rendition of the Episcopal service. During the
Civil War he made it quite apparent to his parishioners that his
sympathies were with the South, and as most of them did not share his
views he moved to Baltimore, where a more congenial atmosphere
surrounded him.
The Rev. Dr. Stephen H. Tyng, senior, was the rector of St. George's
Episcopal church in the lower part of the city. He was a theologian of
the Low-Church school and was greatly esteemed by all of his colleagues.
His son, the Rev. Dr. Stephen H. Tyng, junior, was in full sympathy with
the Low-Church views of his father, and will be recalled as an
evangelical preacher of exceptional power and wide influence. In the
summer of 1867 he preached, in defiance of the canons of the Episcopal
Church, in St. James's Methodist church in New Brunswick, N.J., thus
invading without authority the parishes of the Rev. Dr. Alfred Stubs and