RGL e-Book Cover
Based on an image created with Microsoft Bing software
Roy Glashan's Library
Non sibi sed omnibus
Go to Home Page
This work is out of copyright in countries with a copyright
period of 70 years or less, after the year of the author's death.
If it is under copyright in your country of residence,
do not download or redistribute this file.
Original content added by RGL (e.g., introductions, notes,
RGL covers) is proprietary and protected by copyright.
RGL e-Book Cover
Based on an image created with Microsoft Bing software
IN the course of 30 years' experience as an actor I have had some curious adventures, but never one so utterly beyond my powers of comprehension as an occurrence which took place in the theatre at Woolford, in the winter of 1872. There were three persons in our company who excited my interest in an unusual degree. The first was our leading lady, Miss Helen Lattimer, a very handsome, clever woman, who was as charming off the stage as on it. She was a good deal above the ordinary run of actresses, and looked upon her work with that fine enthusiasm which always tends to success. It was a great thing for her chances in the profession that she had been exceptionally well educated, and was thus able to give effect to passages in the great dramatist's works which an ordinary mind would have found it difficult to understand. She worked very hard, and devoted several hours a day to study, with the result that when she represented one of her favourite characters you quite forgot Miss Helen Lattimer, and thought only of Juliet or Desdemona or Perdita, as the case might be. Miss Lattimer, in fact, had already achieved the great distinction of submerging herself in the character which she engaged to present.
The second person who attracted my notice was our leading tragedian, Mr. Edward Boville. He had come into the company under somewhat mysterious circumstances. None of us knew him as an actor; he had certainly not gone through the mill, as most of us had; and yet he proved himself very speedily a most finished artist, and rapidly rose from a minor position to that of leading man. Our manager, if he knew anything of Boville's history, carefully refrained from sharing the knowledge with us. He had all the manners and tone of the society which we usually call characteristic, and it was palpably evident that he had been well educated. He was a tall, handsome man of twenty-eight or thirty, and I often thought that he and Miss Lattimer made a very fine couple.
After he joined the company Miss Lattimer and he struck up a friendship which, no doubt, seemed to some of us likely to develop into affection. They were a great deal together, and they spent hours on the stage rehearsing scenes from famous plays, just for the love of the thing, I think. But in spite of all this, I never saw anything which led me to suppose Boville to be in love with Miss Lattimer. He was always as respectful to her, in a somewhat formal and half-distant fashion, as he was to the other ladies, who, I believe, were half afraid of his "swell" manners.
There was one person, however, who thought that Boville was making love to Miss Lattimer, and that was the third of the three people who had excited my interest. Until Boville's sudden advent and rapid rise among us, Mr. Charles Gould had always been regarded as our most promising man. He had a long experience, came of a family of actors, and might be said to have been born on the stage. It was only natural that he should very much resent the way in which our manager passed Boville over his head, and he did not hesitate to express his resentment, and to throw out hints about amateurs and stage-struck swells, and so on. To this, however, no one paid much attention, for Boville was undoubtedly a very fine and capable actor, and well worth the esteem in which our manager held him.
I had often thought that Gould was in love with Miss Lattimer. I had seen him watching her with an expression on his face which I did not like; I had seen him try to gain speech of her and fail, at which times the look would turn to one of baffled anger. He was not a bad fellow when you came to know him; but his dark, somewhat sullen countenance did not inspire anyone with feelings of liking. Then, too, he was moody and taciturn, and sometimes had ugly fits, in which it was almost dangerous to speak to him. I believe that our manager would have got rid of him but for the fact that Gould was a thoroughly trained actor, and a very useful man in a travelling company.
It was the first week in December when we opened at Woolford, and we were to remain there until the 20th. During the two or three weeks preceding our arrival at Woolford matters seemed to have grown very strange between Boville and Gould, and more especially between Gould and Miss Lattimer. On more than one occasion I happened to come across Miss Lattimer and Gould talking together, and I fancied each time that she was in tears, while I was quite certain that he was speaking angrily and with a sort of peremptoriness that he had no right to assume. One day I overheard these two talking in one of the dressing-rooms, and caught the final words which were spoken by Gould.
"I shall stand it no longer; I'll give you twenty-four hours, and if you don't speak then, I shall!"
Then he went abruptly away, and very soon afterwards I saw Miss Lattimer leave the theatre; and though she had a thick veil on, it was evident to me that she had been shedding tears. I wondered what it was that Gould wished her to speak about, but finally decided that it was nothing more than some grievance in relation to business matters, of which Gould, being a peevish man, always had a stock. And yet that hardly accounted for Miss Lattimer's tears. However, it was no business of mine, and I tried to dismiss it from my thoughts.
Our play that night was "Romeo and Juliet," with Miss Lattimer and Boville as the two ill-fated lovers, and Gould in the part of Tybalt. The occasion was somewhat out of the ordinary, and several of the dignitaries of the town were to be present. When the curtain went up there was a packed house, hardly standing room; and by the time we had reached the ball scene, and Romeo saw Juliet for the first time, there was not a seat to be had for love or money.
It seemed to me that Boville was somewhat agitated that night. I had seen him early in the evening in conversation with Miss Lattimer at the wings. They were not long together; but Gould saw them, and a fierce look came over his face. He went away, muttering to himself, and I thought that we should have trouble ere long. Little did I guess how it was to come.
We reached the scene where Tybalt, returning to the stage, is met and slain by Romeo. I stood at the wings watching, others of the company standing near me. Tybalt rushed on, and was met by Romeo. I started to see how real the thing looked. Both men, Boville and Gould, glared at each other as if the quarrel had been a real one affecting themselves. The duel commenced; the fencing was superb, for both men were accomplished swordsmen.
One of the men standing at my side remarked how like a real fight it was. Suddenly, as in the stage directions, Romeo ran Tybalt through the heart, and the latter, with one wild glare round, dropped. Boville stood motionless for a second, gazing at his prostrate foe.
A long sigh broke upon the crowded house. And then, all of a sudden, one of the girls standing at the wings shrieked aloud, and pointed to a stain that was rapidly crimsoning the boards. The duel had been no acting; it was real, and Gould lay there dead.
I have only a confused recollection of what followed. There was no more acting that night, and the streets were soon full of a crowd talking of the awful mischance that had just taken place at the theatre. For mischance it could be, nothing else. By some dire mistake, Boville had used a buttonless rapier. At the crucial moment, he said, Gould slipped, and the weapon, instead of passing between body and arm, had penetrated his heart.
Of course there was an investigation and an inquest, but everybody seemed agreed that the whole thing was a terrible accident, and no blame was attached to Boville. Gould was interred, and in a day or two the matter was treated like the proverbial nine days' wonder. But Boville went about looking very pale and haggard—a great contrast to Miss Lattimer, who somehow seemed to have recovered her spirits.
For a week after the accident the theatre was closed, and when re-opened Boville's name was not on the bills, the manager considering it advisable that he should not appear for a while. Consequently, the duties of leading man devolved on me, and hard work I had during the next fortnight. However, I acquitted myself so much to the satisfaction of the manager that he set apart the last night of our stay at Woolford for my benefit.
Now, I had always from boyhood had a great desire to play Romeo, and I was all the more anxious to appear in that character on my benefit night because Miss Lattimer was an incomparable Juliet. I talked the matter over with the manager. We were both dubious about the propriety of producing the play again so soon after the fatal accident; but we finally decided upon doing so, and the bills were got out. I was anxious that Boville should support me, and prevailed upon him to take the part of Tybalt. He shivered slightly when I named the part to him, but finally consented on condition that an assumed name should go down on the bills.
The night came; I had a full house and a splendid reception, and Miss Lattimer was in magnificent form. The early scenes went off admirably, and after the balcony scene I felt so elated with my own success as to have visions of a great career. Boville, on the other hand, was gloomy and under a cloud.
"Tom," he said, coming to me at the wings, "something is going to happen to me to-night."
I looked at him in amazement. He shook his head.
"Something will happen to me to-night," he repeated. "I know it. I feel," he said, in a lower voice, and looking round him, "I feel that something is haunting me."
"Nonsense," I answered. "You're out of sorts, Boville. The excitement of the performance will put you all right."
"You'll see," he said, and turned away.
The scene soon came where I, as Romeo, encounter the fiery Tybalt and slay him. As I stood awaiting Boville's approach I suddenly became aware of a strange coldness that seemed to spread itself all round me. The words: "Here comes the fiery Tybalt back again," fell on my ears unheeded. I saw Boville advancing. And then—I felt a cold touch on my hand, and a voice—Gould's voice--whisper, "Not you, Tom." I felt myself held as in a vice, and saw another Romeo glide past me sword in hand. I caught a glimpse of his face. Heavens! It was Gould come back!
I heard the rapiers clash together, and stood spellbound. I heard a voice behind me whisper, "Go on, Tom—go on," and never moved. I was watching something that no one in that house saw except myself. There they stood, the living man Boville and the ghost Gould fighting. Suddenly Gould's rapier went home, and Boville fell.
I fainted and dropped on the stage.
When I came round it was to hear of a tragedy. They said that Boville advanced upon the stage, and that I, for some unaccountable reason, stood still as if transfixed. Boville's face suddenly assumed a horror-stricken expression; he threw up his arms and dropped—dead. Heart disease, the doctors said.
I told my story afterward, and got laughed at. But whatever the truth of the matter may be, and whatever was the nature of that strange secret shared by Miss Lattimer and the two men, I know beyond a question that my place as Romeo was assumed for a minute by the spirit of Charles Gould in order that he might wreak his vengeance on the man who had murdered him three weeks before.
Roy Glashan's Library
Non sibi sed omnibus
Go to Home Page
This work is out of copyright in countries with a copyright
period of 70 years or less, after the year of the author's death.
If it is under copyright in your country of residence,
do not download or redistribute this file.
Original content added by RGL (e.g., introductions, notes,
RGL covers) is proprietary and protected by copyright.