Lincoln and his cane?

[David Lockmiller]

(08-26-2017 01:11 PM)David Lockmiller Wrote:  The lanky figure that rose slowly to greet [Charlotte Cushman] was not prepossessing. There was an obvious backwoods clumsiness about the man, a deep lack of polish. But Charlotte quickly sensed in Lincoln a warmth and sentiment that made her forget everything else. Standing beside the flag in front of his marble fireplace, tilting back in this black leather chair, Lincoln drawled his eager references to the theatre, especially Shakespeare, to plays he had seen recently when he had slipped unannounced into a box. Regrettably, he said, he had not yet seen Miss Cushman herself on stage, especially since Macbeth was his favorite play. Smiling, pointing a bony finger at her, Lincoln hoped she would not retire – and mean it – before he could see her Lady Macbeth.

Charlotte thanked him.

[In 1863], a break in Charlotte's empty routine [in Rome, Italy] came in a letter from Henry W. Bellows, director of the American Sanitary Commission, the country's civilian effort to assure its fighting men that American homes and hearths still cared about them. Volunteer women all over the Union were knitting sweaters, folding bandages, serving as nurses -- yet the Commission itself need funds. Would Miss Cushman come home to act in benefits in the major cities?

By June 6, she and Sallie Mercer, her dresser assistant and a free woman of color, were on the high seas. To limit her temptations to make a full acting tour, she had packed costumes for only two roles, Lady Macbeth and Meg.

For the benefit in Washington, D.C., on October 17, Charlotte could have used either of Washington's two theaters, Leonard Grover's lavish new National on Pennsylvania Avenue or John Ford's older house on Tenth near F Street. Both managers begged her, but she selected the National because of its Shakespeare company -- and because rumor held that Ford, willy-nilly, catered to Rebel sympathizers.

Grover spared no cost in presenting the star whom his ads hailed "the most gifted actress of the present age." He brought in J.W. Wallack, Jr., for Macbeth and E.L. Davenport for Macduff. The night's program was printed in red ink on a lacy sheaf of white satin edged in ribbon.

At her entrance, Charlotte found the theater jammed. To her left, in the President's flag-draped box, she saw Lincoln sitting grave and stiff in his chair. With him sat his wife, his young son Tad, and his private secretary, William Stoddard. In the box to her right, she saw Seward, Fanny, Emma Crow (Charlotte's aunt), and Frederick Seward, all cheering. Every part of the house was crowded with dignitaries.

Watching Charlotte's Lady Macbeth glower and swoop and wander in her sleep, Emma Crow sensed the joy of a veteran newly returned to battle. Auntie's power on stage was mainly a matter of voice. With it she could cast any spell, move any crowd to feel whatever she wished. One never missed a whisper, however far back he might be sitting.

At the end of the play, when Charlotte came through the curtains for her bow, a smiling Lincoln and his family stood cheering, and the women in Seward's box tossed her an elegant bouquet. The night had brought the Sanitary Fund over $2,000.

(Source: Bright Particular Star, The Life & Times of Charlotte Cushman, pages 320-24)