Part 68

Billie Burke was the daughter of a humble circus clown in America. From him she probably inherited her mimetic gifts. At the beginning of her career she had obscure parts in American musical pieces.

It was in London, however, that she first came under the observation of Charles. She had graduated from the chorus to a part in Edna May's great success, "The School Girl." She had a song called "Put Me in My Little Canoe," which made a great hit. Frohman became so much interested that he thought of sending Miss Burke to America in the piece. He transferred the song to Miss May, which left Miss Burke with scarcely any opportunity. Subsequently she was put in "The Belle of Mayfair," and afterward replaced Miss May when she retired.

Louis N. Parker saw her in this piece and agreed with Frohman that the girl had possibilities as a serious actress. She was cast for her first dramatic part in "The Honorable George," the play he was then producing in London.

When Michael Morton adapted a very beguiling French play called "My Wife," Frohman saw that here was Miss Burke's opportunity for America. He secured her release from the Gattis, who controlled her English appearances, and made her John Drew's leading woman. She met his confidence by adapting herself to the rôle with great brilliancy and effect. Indeed, with Miss Burke, Frohman introduced a distinct and piquant reddish-blond type of beauty to the American stage. It became known as the "Billie Burke type." Realizing this, Frohman was very careful to adapt her personal appearance, humor, and temperament to her plays. He literally had plays written about her peculiar gifts.

Miss Burke's great success in "My Wife" projected her into the Frohman stellar heaven. She was launched as a star in "Love Watches," an adaptation from the French, securely established herself in the favor of theater-goers, and from that time on her appearance in a chic, smart play became one of the distinct features of the annual Frohman season. Her most distinguished success was with Pinero's play "Mind the Paint Girl," in which Frohman was greatly interested.

Few of Frohman's "discoveries" justified his confidence with lovelier success than Julia Sanderson. Her first public appearance on the stage had been in vaudeville. When Frohman sought a comedienne with a certain dainty, lady-like quality for the English musical play called "The Dairymaids," which he produced at the Criterion in 1907, his attention was called to this charming girl, then doing musical numbers in a New York vaudeville theater. Frohman went to see her, and was fascinated by her beauty and charm. He noted, most of all, a certain gentle quality in her personality, and with his peculiar genius in adapting plays to people and people to plays, she fairly bloomed under his persuasive and sympathetic sponsorship.

Frohman now obtained "The Arcadians," in which Miss Sanderson was featured. Of all the musical plays that he produced, this was perhaps his favorite. He liked it so much that he told Miss Sanderson one day during rehearsal:

"If the public does not like 'The Arcadians,' then I am finished with light opera."

"The Arcadians," however, proved to be a gratifying success, and Frohman's confidence was vindicated. Frohman was undergoing his long and almost fatal illness at the Knickerbocker Hotel when "The Arcadians" was being rehearsed. He was so fond of the music that whenever possible the rehearsals in which Miss Sanderson sang were conducted in his rooms at the hotel. He always said that he could see the whole performance in her singing. In rehearsing her he always seemed to well-nigh break her heart, but it was his way, as he afterward admitted, of provoking her emotional temperament.

He next gave her a strong part in "The Siren," and subsequently made her a co-star with Donald Brian in "The Sunshine Girl," which brought out to the fullest advantage, so far, her exquisite and alluring qualities.

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The last star to twinkle into life under the Frohman wand was Ann Murdock. Here is presented an extraordinary example of the way that Charles literally "made" stars, for seldom, if ever, before has a young actress been so quickly raised from obscurity to eminence. Almost overnight he lifted her into fame.

Miss Murdock, who was born in New York, and had spent her childhood in Port Washington, Long Island, was not a stage-struck girl. She went on the stage because she made up her mind that she wanted more nice frocks than she was having. She rode over to New York one day and went to Henry B. Harris's office to get a position. As she sat waiting among a score of applicants, Harris came out. He was so much taken with her striking Titian beauty and unaffected girlish charm that he immediately asked her to come in ahead of the rest, and gave her a small part in one of "The Lion and the Mouse" road companies. When Harris saw her act he took her out of the cast and put her in a new production that he was making in New York.

At the end of the season she wanted to get under Charles Frohman's management, so she went to the Empire Theater to try her luck. There she met William Gillette, who was making one of his numerous revivals of "Secret Service." The moment he saw this fresh, appealing young girl he immediately cast her in his mind for the part of the young Southern girl. After he had talked with her, however, he said:

"I think it would be best if I wrote a part for you. I am now working on a play, and I think you had better go in that."

Miss Murdock now appeared in Gillette's new play, "Electricity," in which Marie Doro was starred. Charles Frohman saw her at the opening rehearsal for the first time.

"Electricity" was a failure. Instead of following up her connection with the Frohman office, she went to the cast of "A Pair of Sixes," in which she played for a whole season on Broadway, displaying qualities which brought her conspicuously before the public and to the notice of the man who was to do so much for her.

One night Charles stopped in to see this farce. He had never forgotten the lovely young girl who had played in "Electricity." The next day he sent for Miss Murdock, offered her an engagement, and made another of those simple arrangements, for he said to her:

"You are with me for life."

This was Frohman's way of telling an actor or actress that, without the formality of a contract, they were to look to him each season for employment and that they need not worry about engagements.

From this time on Frohman took an earnest interest in Miss Murdock's career. He saw in her, as he had seen in only a few of his women stars, an immense opportunity to create a new and distinct type.

Just about this time he became very much interested in the English adaptation of a French play which he called "The Beautiful Adventure," which was, curiously enough, one of the plays uppermost in his mind on the day he went to his death.

He now did a daring but characteristic Frohman thing. He believed implicitly in Miss Murdock's talents; he felt that the part of the ingenuous young girl in this play was ideally suited to her pleading personality, so, in conjunction with Mrs. Thomas Whiffen and Charles Cherry, he featured her in the cast. Miss Murdock's characterization amply justified Frohman's confidence, but the play failed in New York and on the road. He wrote to Miss Murdock:

I am afraid our little play is too gentle for the West. Come back. I have something else for you.

He now put Miss Murdock into Porter Emerson Browne's play "A Girl of To-day," which had its first presentation in Washington. Frohman, Miss Murdock, and her mother were riding from the station in Washington to the Shoreham Hotel. As they passed the New National Theater, where the young actress was to appear, Miss Murdock suddenly looked out of the cab and saw the following inscription in big type on the bill:

Charles Frohman presents Ann Murdock in "A Girl of To-day."

It was the first intimation that she had been made a star, and she burst into tears. In this episode Frohman had repeated what he had done in the case of Ethel Barrymore ten years before.

Frohman had predicted great things for Miss Murdock, for at the time of his death there was no doubt of the fact that she was destined, in his mind, for a very remarkable career.