There was bitter cursing of
Yankees, of the greed of New England, of its disregard of the rights of
the South.... But out upon the harbor the sea gulls were drifting. I
could hear the slapping of the waves against the rocks. And in the midst
of this the orchestra began to play "Annie Laurie." The tears came to my
eyes. I arose and left the place. My mind turned to a theater as a means
of relief to these pressing thoughts. I consulted my manual, and started
for the American theater. It was described as an example of Doric
architecture, modeled after the temple of Minerva at Athens. I found it
on the Bowery and Elizabeth Street, bought a ticket for seventy-five
cents and entered. The play was _Othello_, and I had never seen it
before.
I could not help but overhear and follow the conversation of the people
who sat next to me. They were wondering what moved Shakespeare to depict
the story of a black man married to a white woman. Could such a theme be
dramatized now? How could a woman, fair and high-bred, become the wife
of a sooty creature like Othello? Was it real? If not real, what was
Shakespeare trying to do? And much more to the same effect, together
with remarks about negroes and that slavery should be let alone by New
England, and by everyone else.
The play was dreary to me, played listlessly where it was not ranted and
torn to tatters.
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