The Fire
On December 5, 1876, about a thousand patrons were in attendance. Samuel Hastings, who collected tickets at the gallery entrance, estimated that there were about 400 people in the family circle. One of the theater owners, Col. Abner Keeny, said that about 360 people purchased tickets for the dress circle and about 250 people in the parquet and parquet circle. Edward B. Dickinson, a patron in the middle of the parquet about five rows from the stage, thought the auditorium floor was not more than half full. Charles Vine, high in the family circle, thought it was "one of the biggest galleries" he had seen in a long time at the Brooklyn Theatre.
The play proceeded without incident until the intermission between the fourth and fifth act, which occurred shortly after 11 pm. During this time, the drop curtain was down, hiding the stage, and the orchestra was playing for the intermission. Some attendees in the parquet circle heard what sounded like a brawl behind the curtain, shouting by men, and the working of machinery; they could easily hear it above the playing of the orchestra.
Behind the curtain, the actors were taking their positions in a box set representing an old boathouse on the bank of the Seine. This was constructed of painted canvas on a flimsy wooden frame and mainly blocked the backstage and flies from view. Kate Claxton, playing Louise, the blind orphan girl, along with actors J. B. Studley, and H. S. Murdoch, had taken their places on stage within the box set and were waiting for the curtain to rise. Claxton was lying on a pallet of straw, looking up. Actors Mary Ann Farren and Claude Burroughs were waiting in the wings for their entry cues.
Read more about this topic: Brooklyn Theater Fire
Famous quotes containing the word fire:
“Although sleep pressed upon my closing eyelids, and the moon, on her horses, blushed in the middle of the sky, nevertheless I could not leave off watching your play; there was too much fire in your two voices.”
—Propertius Sextus (c. 50–16 B.C.)
“Over Sir John’s hill,
The hawk on fire hangs still;
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—Dylan Thomas (1914–1953)