Articles on the Controversy between Max Maretzek and the New York Herald

“Much Ado About Nothing.—Joyce Heth, in breeches, and Oily Gammon, of the Opera, are making a great fuss because their advertisements were excluded from the Herald. On the very same day that their advertisements—which are only worth a few dollars—were left out, the advertisement of a much better quack doctor than either of them was also refused, at the rate of two thousand dollars for one insertion, because we have not room enough for the daily news which our readers require.”

“City Summary. Our theatres are crowded, our minstrel halls overflowing, our music halls jammed, our circuses thronged, our museums crammed, and the Opera turning people away.  Our jails, and work houses, and alms houses and penitentiaries are doing equally well, in many of them the inmates sleeping three in a cell. All this shows the progressive character of our people in the way of amusements, and also in the way of crime.  It is a sort of ‘dock race’ between innocent recreation and devastating devilment, with the prospects in favor of the former, if our Judges but continue to do their duty, and shut up our criminal population as fast as they are convicted.  We have said that even the Italian Opera is succeeding beyond expectation—or at least we intended so to say—and this, considering the opposition it has met with from the Herald, shows that the public is not so much influenced by the opinion of that journal as it once was. Unscrupulous as Max Maretzek may be, and dependent as he has hitherto been upon the favor of the press, he has nevertheless had the nerve to do battle with the Herald, cut off his free list and denounce the editor in the most unmeasured terms; and thus far the public has sided with the opera manager, and crowded his house as it was never crowded before. We care neither for the Herald man nor for the Opera man; there is not much to choose between them; whatever favors the Herald may have had in the way of free tickets, etc., has no doubt been more than paid for in free notices, etc., and Maretzek played a very dirty hand in the game when he made public the number of free tickets, etc., he had given to the Herald—for he distributed his deadhead favors with just such a lavish hand among the other newspapers who had spoken well of his operations.  Once upon a time the Herald’s influence might have floored Max ‘or any other man;’ but Bennett has either lost his hold or else Max has got him where his hair is short, and holds him at bay.  And this reminds us of another attempt on the part of the Herald establishment to coerce our managers.  A few years ago, a poor but honest man conceived the idea of publishing a little paper called The Programme, to be used as the bill of the play for the various theatres, minstrel halls, etc.  Our managers, ever ready to assist the deserving, gave the project their countenance and support, and the Programme soon became a fixed fact.  The enterprise yielded its proprietor a comfortable living—‘only this, and nothing more.’ A year or two ago, our prosperous neighbors of the Herald establishment started an opposition to the little Programme, with the evident intention of crushing it out of existence, and occupying the field themselves; they were not altogether successful, however, and both sheets were patronized by our managers.  Recently renewed efforts have been made to crush out the little Programme by the mighty Herald establishment, with but no better prospects of success.  An attempt has been made to coerce our managers, to compel them to give up the little Programme, take the Play Bill only instead, and thus tighten the already tight hold which the Herald establishment had upon the managerial throat, but they have had the courage and the manliness to refuse to comply with this unjust demand.  Our managers remind us of a horse; they possess immense power, but don’t know how to use it.  Combined, they can defy the entire Herald establishment, and prosper as well in their business as they have ever prospered.  Even single-handed, Maretzek has done this.  Years ago the Herald was a sort of necessary evil to our operatic and theatrical managers—that was when it was cock of the walk, and occupied nearly the entire field itself.  Now, however, there are several powerful dailies published, exerting an influence as great (if not greater) as that exerted by the Herald. Managers should embrace the present opportunity to assert their independence and manhood, to refuse longer to be dictated to, or to be interfered with in their business by the Fulton street establishment. We don’t know the proprietor of the Programme, and have never seen him, to our knowledge; but this we do know, that if the Herald is successful in compelling our managers to patronize the Play Bill, and shut out the Programme, its next step will be to compel them to have their fancy and other posters printed at the Herald establishment at just such prices as the proprietor may dictate.  If our managers retain a tithe of that independent spirit, that honest sense of right, for which they have ever enjoyed a well-deserved reputation, they owe it to their patrons and to themselves to exercise that spirit at the present time, and, united, crush out the power that seeks to degrade and enslave them.

          “Later.—Since the above was written we have received information, via ‘Underground Railroad,’ that the managers have had a meeting—a private affair—and, like the lamented Abe, they seem determined to put their feet down, and stand up boldly for their rights.  The why and the wherefore of this meeting may be stated as follows: When Barnum’s Museum was destroyed by fire, Bennett, of the Herald, was desirous of securing the site of the burnt district, and it was given out that Bennett had succeeded in effecting a purchase.  Regarding that property, Bennett and Barnum have had a quarrel, and since then Barnum’s Museum advertisement has been refused insertion in the columns of the Herald; its absence has, no doubt, been noticed by the readers of that paper. The managers of this city some time ago formed themselves into an Association; with the exception of Manager Wood, of the Broadway Theatre, and the managers of the San Francisco Minstrels, all our city managers belong to it; the association was formed before Manager Wood and the San Francisco gentlemen came here, and that is why they are not in the organization; they are to join, we hear, at the earliest opportunity.  Well, Mr. Barnum, feeling himself aggrieved at the conduct of Mr. Bennett, had a meeting of the Managers’ Association called.  It was held at the Metropolitan Hotel, on Monday, Sept. 25th, although no publicity has been given to the proceedings. The managers were also moved in the matter by the persistent endeavors of the Play Bill folks to force that paper upon them, and to squash the Programme.  The meeting took place, as we have stated, and the result was a determination to stand by Barnum (he belonging to the Association), and to pitch Bennett overboard.  They accordingly resolved to withdraw all patronage from the Herald, to stop the Play Bill, and the three-sheet posters printed at the Herald establishment, unless Barnum’s advertisement be inserted as usual.  A committee was appointed to wait on Bennett, and inform him of the stand they had determined to take.  The reply was that the Herald was his, and he would do just as he pleased.  In the event of his refusal to insert Barnum’s advertisement, etc., the Association will at once stop all business with the Herald.  Another meeting of the Managers’ Association was held on the 28th September, when it was resolved to withdraw every advertisement from the Herald, and upon no consideration whatever will any member of the Association put another advertisement in that paper, now or hereafter.  This is a fixed fact.  A majority of the critics held a meeting on the 29th Sept. and resolved to support the managers.  The Herald of to-day is minus its usual list of amusement advertisements, and as thousands of persons have taken the paper merely on account of its record of public places of amusement, not only will the Herald feel its loss in advertisements, but in subscribers s well.  On Saturday ended the managerial connection with Bennett’s establishment; they have withdrawn their advertisements; their street programmes and three-sheet posters are taken from the Herald job office, and the Play Bill is thrown overboard.  The rupture has created quite an excitement all over town, and it is worthy of mention that almost everybody is in favor of the managers.  The members of the ‘Managers’ Association’ are as follows:--Wm. Wheatley, President; Mrs. Wood; Max Maretzek; P.T. Barnum; J. Lester Wallack; Mr. Stuart—Winter Garden; Jas. Lingard; G.L. Fox; the Brothers Bryant; R. Butler and Henry Wood.  Those who are not yet members are Tony Pastor, George Wood, B. Platt, and the proprietors of the San Francisco Minstrels.  It is presumed that a majority, if not all of these, will soon connect themselves with the Association.  If not, the consequences be upon their own heads.”

“The eleven unfortunate associated managers, led by Oily Gammon [Maretzek], of the opera, and Joyce Heth, in breeches, of the Museum, are getting deeper and deeper into trouble. Their association was originally formed to reduce the wages of their musicians, and in order to accomplish this one of the managers sagely proposed to abolish orchestras altogether and substitute hand organs. But of late the original idea of the association has been largely extended, and the eleven foolish managers now undertake to control the press, regulate the whole theatrical profession and bully the bill-posters. The result of all this is that the actors and other employes [sic] of the theatres consider that the managers have associated together to make a strike against them, and they are now preparing to strike back by organizing an actors’ protective society upon a grand scale.

          That there is a great deal of justice in the view which the actors take of the managers’ association must be admitted. The other day an honest bill-poster was called up before the associated managers and ordered to refuse to post bills for all places of amusement not represented in the combination. The bill-poster declined to succumb; told the managers to go to the place which Mr. Henry Ward Beecher declares does not exist, and was immediately dismissed. The actors are by no means certain that their turn will not come next. The association may reduce their salaries at a moment’s notice, or it may dictate to them at what theatres they must or must not appear, or it may decide what line of parts each player shall adopt, or it may abolish all distinctions between what are technically called lines of business, and make everybody play ‘general utility.’ Having so far exceeded its original plan, there is no telling with what the association may next attempt to interfere; and at present the actors have no redress if the blow be aimed at them. Hence the necessity for a protective society. Already loud complaints are made of petty outrages on the part of the managers. It seems that a poor ballet girl left a Bowery theatre and engaged at a Broadway theatre, her wages being advanced from five dollars a week to twelve. The Bowery manager demanded her back, and, under a rule of the association, the poor girl had to go, thus losing seven dollars a week and all chances of rising in her profession. Another instance is that of an actor who went from an up-town theatre to one lower down, on the promise of better wage and a better position. He, too, was demanded back and given up, like a fugitive slave. Other actors have been fairly driven out of the city, and others still have been semi-officially notified that they cannot appear on Broadway, because they have offended the association in some manner or other.

          What with their differences with the press, their squabbles with the bill-posters, their diminished audiences and the storm brewing between them and their employes, the managers are already pretty thoroughly disgusted with the leadership of Oily Gammon and Joyce Heth in breeches. At every step they become more involved in difficulties. The weekly press, formerly so subservient, has now turned against them, and, with a refinement of cruelty of which we are fortunately incapable, it shows up the characters of Joyce Heth and Oily Gammon in the most vigorous and uncharitable style. The daily press is beginning to assert its independence, and criticizes plays recently produced by one of the associated managers as ‘disgusting,’ ‘filthy,’ ‘beastly’ and ‘unspeakably revolting.’ Several new theatres are in contemplation or in process of erection to supersede the present effete concerns and completely reform drama. The public no longer hesitate to hiss bad actors and singers. The unknown artists lately imported for the Opera do not even compare favorably with Kellogg, and nobody ever thought her a first class vocalist, worthy to be mentioned in the same breath with Grisi or Malibran. Instead of the flourishes which we expected, the organs of the managers’ association print column after column of apologies, explanations and excuses. This singer did not appear; that singer had a bad cold; the other singer was nervous, and the rest will do better in other rôles, and so on to the end of the chapter.  There is a great deal of damning with faint praise, but no enthusiasm, although the organs are paid to get it up.  All these things have a bad look for the eleven foolish managers.  We must confess that our amusement at their silly conduct is not unmingled with pity for their misfortunes.  They have a hard winter before them; everything is dear, and their expenses are very heavy; they have cut themselves off from the great body of the public, who respond by leaving them alone severely, and now their employes are contemplating a rebellion. Oily Gammon and Joyce Heth in breeches have involved their associates in all their own difficulties. The sad results of evil companionship were nevermore strikingly exemplified. ”

“City Summary. Probably the reader is desirous of hearing how the Herald is getting along since the managers, ‘knowing their rights, dared maintain them.’  Well, the Fulton-street folks have received a shock from which they will not soon recover; they may attempt to ridicule our managers, call them silly, charge Barnum with being a ‘Joyce Heth in breeches,’ and stigmatise Maretzek as an ‘oily gammon,’ and all that sort of thing; but it wont [sic] answer—the laugh dont [sic] come in like it once did when Bennett called people outlandish names and ridiculed them.  The managers’ coup de theatre has sickened our venerable friend, and he takes his gruel with as many wry faces as a child takes its first dose of spicac[?]; the gentleman from ‘Auld Scotia’ has put his foot in it this time, in earnest.  The public has become deeply interested in the [illeg.], but, like the handle of a pitcher, the people are all on one side, and that side is with the managers’; the few weak-kneed managers who refuse to join the Association in the maintenance of a principle which concerns them all, have probably seen by this time that their course is not likely to meet with public approval, for while the theatres and halls represented in the ‘Managers’ Association’ have been crowded to excess, those not represented have experienced a falling off in patronage.  In the improved language of the Moor of Venice, ‘Oh, that men should put an enemy in the Herald office, to steal away their brains and bill printing.’ The opera is doing splendidly, and the impecunious Max takes his lager and sausage with a greater relish than ever.  Niblo’s Garden is fairly besieged every evening, and the gentleman who deals out tickets from the porthole in the hall is kept as busy as ticket holders the night before election.  Winter Garden, the Olympic, New Bowery, Wood’s and Bryants’ Minstrels, and 444 Broadway, are all doing correspondingly well.  A meeting of the Manager’s [sic] Association was held at the Metropolitan Theatre on Wednesday, the 4^th inst., in regard to printing and other matters connected with their business.  They have concluded to publish an evening programme of their own, and have chosen McLachlan, of the Programme, to conduct it.  We understand that Manager George Wood, of the Broadway, refuses to join the Association, presuming probably, that he will be benefited by the support of the Herald.  The managers of the San Francisco Minstrels have taken the same erroneous view of the situation, and will ‘paddle their own canoe’ in their own fashion; the Herald willing.  R. Platt, of the Hippotheatron, another of the outsiders, has sold the Hippotheatron to L.B. Lent, who will, probably, connect himself with the Managers’ Union.  The Herald’s ‘tender’ is now taken at only three or four places, whose audience are ‘growing smaller by degrees and beautifully less.’”

“The libel suits instituted in the Superior Court by Max Maretzek against Cauldwell and Whitney, proprietors of the New York Sunday Mercury, were up again yesterday on a motion by th plaintiff’s counsel to place the second suit on the trial calendar for next term.  The application was made to Judge Moncrief sitting in the chambers.

          Mr. A. Oakley Hall, counsel for the defendants, opposed the motion, contending that the first suit should have precendence. . . . Number one, he said, was the hinge on which all the libelous charged turned, and it was, therefore, proper that it should come up in its natural order. . . .

          After some further conversation, Judge Moncrief granted the motion of the plaintiff’s counsel.”

“ ‘Joined the Teetotal Society.’ –Among the latest additions to the ‘Union Managers’ Total Abstinence from the Herald Society,’ are Mr. Lent, of the Hippotheatron, and Mr. Harrison, of Irving Hall.  We also hear that Mr. Leonard Grover, of Washington; Mr. Jarrett, of Boston; Mr. McVicker, of Chicago; and Mr. Pike, or Cincinnati, have also ‘jined the teetotal society.’”

“Why is Wallack’s Theatre like Wood’s Minstrel’s?  Because ‘This establishment does not advertise in the Herald.’”

“ ‘Would any kind gentleman be so obliging as to loan a poor widow a few hundred dollars to enable her to start in the sewing machine business? He must be of strictly moral habits, and member of church.’ In some such pious strain our Herald friends are laboring very zealously to undo the ‘ally managers’ who have withdrawn their advertising and other patronage from that pious establishment.  Good Deacon Bennett, in a long-winded editorial, shows his concern for the morals of our wicked city by calling upon Brother Beecher and other stars of the church to come forward and assist him in bringing about a moral reform movement which shall result in the closing up of every place of amusement which ‘does not advertise in the Herald.’ Our religious, benevolent, sanitary, insanitary and other moral organizations are cordially invited to come up to the Deacon’s anxious bench, procure the necessary credentials, and then come down upon the theaters, the minstrel halls, concert saloons, and other irreligious establishments.  Our worthy Brother Bennett will clothe his disciples with the requisite authority and appropriate costumes from the wardrobe of brother Maretzek.  Deacon Bennett has not commenced a bit too late; had he started this moral reform agitation a couple of weeks ago the public, always ready to impugn a man’s motives, would have said that the immaculate Deacon was making war upon the theatres because the managers no longer advertise with him; but no such shameful charge can be brought against him now; no one will for a moment doubt the purity, the disinterestedness of this religious man’s motives. Nothing is impossible with the Deacon.  Did he not with the aid of our star preachers and abolition societies help to inaugurate the civil war?  Was he not the first (‘by universal request’) to turn acrobat, make a double somersault, and hang his banners on the outer walls of the Herald establishment as soon as the news of the attack on Fort Sumter was received?  Did he not, single-handed, crush out the rebellion in ninety days, re-crush it in six months, and spasmodically thereafter wind it up—on paper—every month or two?  Did he not, very kindly, permit a dishonest evening stock exchange to exist up town during the war, and did he not in a public spirited manner have it closed and shorn of its dishonest practices as soon as the cruel war was over, and there were no more soldiers to victimize?  Didn’t he?  If this great and good man, unaided, could accomplish such wonders, what is to hinder him—assisted by brothers Beecher, Chapin and other shining marks of the church—from closing up every theatre, every hall, every place of amusement in this virtuous, this intellectual, and highly moral metropolis of the western world! that ‘does not advertise in the Herald?’ After this city is ‘reformed,’ redeemed, regenerated, and disenthralled, as the pious politicians would say, our brothers will turn their attention to the morals of the ‘provincial towns,’ and close up every place of amusement therein but the churches. After which, having no more vicious establishments to conquer, they will all lie down with the lions and lambs on the Museum pasturage, and sing the good old sockdologer, with brother Bennett and Beecher to carry the air, and the rest of the flock to join in the chorus.  That this happy consummation may eventuate, let us pray, for the Deacon’s sake.”

“All the theaters did a good business, and they are all prospering.  The Herald, from which offensive paper they have so wisely and resolutely withdrawn their advertising patronage, devotes much space to misrepresentation of their affairs, and to pitiful attempts to ridicule their managers.  But the public sees through the shallow bombast of The Herald, and so nobody is injured by its impotent shafts of rage and malice.  There never was a time when the theaters of New York were doing a more lucrative business than they are at present.”