William Gillette
On February 27, 1936, William Gillette made his last appearance on any Connecticut stage at the Bushnell Memorial auditorium in Hartford, starring in Austin Strong’s comedy Three Wise Fools. After a thunderous ovation at the final curtain, Gillette, then in his mid-80s, thanked the audience for their “fine performance.” He would go on to perform the play in New York but died nearly a year later, never returning to a Connecticut stage. Gillette is probably best remembered for his 1,300 performances in the lead role of his own play Sherlock Holmes, written in 1899.
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A look back at the ethnic groups who built the Elm City and called it home.
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By Emily E. Gifford
William Gillette was an American actor, playwright, and stage director most famous for his stage portrayal of Sherlock Holmes and for the extraordinary stone castle he built on a promontory above the Connecticut River in East Haddam. Born in the Nook Farm neighborhood of Hartford, Connecticut, Gillette grew up in a politically progressive atmosphere. His father, former US Senator Francis Gillette, supported reform movements including public education and the abolition of slavery; his mother, Elizabeth Daggett Hooker Gillette, was a direct descendant of Connecticut Colony co-founder Thomas Hooker. The family’s neighbors included Harriet Beecher Stowe and Mark Twain.
As a boy, Gillette built a miniature puppet theater and entertained friends and family with short plays. Along with friends, he co-founded an amateur journal, Hail Columbia, a general interest publication that included articles, stories, puzzles, and jokes and was published regularly for nearly two years (1866–1867). In later years, Gillette credited his Hartford Public High School experiences in English and public speaking with his more “natural” style of acting; in an era of melodrama and actors proclaiming every line, Gillette spoke his lines more conversationally, a style of relative underacting that appealed to audiences ready for something new.
Gillette set his sights on acting, although he did attend, among other schools, both Harvard and Yale universities. While not pleased with his youngest son’s career choice, Francis Gillette, having already lost two adult sons, supported his surviving sons’ career ambitions (William’s brother Edward was a newspaper editor and politician in Iowa).
Poster: Charles Frohman presents William Gillette in “Sherlock Holmes,” 1900 – Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division
Gillette’s first professional role, in 1874, was a small speaking part in his neighbor Mark Twain’s theatrical adaptation of The Gilded Age, a novel Twain co-wrote with newspaper editor Charles Dudley Warner. By 1881, theatrical producers Gustave and Daniel Frohman hired Gillette as an actor, director, and playwright; the first play he wrote for them, The Professor, enjoyed a 151-performance run in New York and a national tour.
Not always popular with critics, Gillette focused on pleasing the public. During the 1880s, he experimented with new sound technologies and lighting techniques to enhance the plays he performed in and directed. He also enjoyed a happy personal life. In 1882 he married Helen Nichols and had a highly successful marriage until she died in 1888 of complications from a burst appendix. The couple had no children, and Gillette never remarried.
Gillette continued to work in American theater, eventually crossing the Atlantic to appear in London in 1897, where his play Secret Service was both a critical and commercial success. At that time, Arthur Conan Doyle, creator of the famously eccentric and well-educated detective Sherlock Holmes, found himself in need of money. Having concluded his original Sherlock Holmes stories in 1893, Doyle decided to raise funds by adapting Sherlock Holmes for the stage.
A competing, unauthorized play based on his work further spurred Doyle to action, but he proved unable to write a Holmes play to his own satisfaction. In 1897, Doyle and his agent met with Charles Frohman, one of Gillette’s Broadway associates; Frohman, in turn, suggested Gillette as the perfect person to bring Holmes to life on stage. Doyle agreed and Gillette immediately read Doyle’s Holmes adventures (for the first time) and set to work on the adaptation while on an American tour of Secret Service. In 1899, Gillette traveled to England to show his play, titled simply Sherlock Holmes and drawn from several of Doyle’s stories, to Doyle personally. The two began a longtime personal friendship and a highly profitable professional relationship.
William Gillette as Sherlock Holmes – Harriet Beecher Stowe Center and Connecticut State Library
In bringing Sherlock Holmes to life on the stage, Gillette introduced three elements that became synonymous with the famous detective: his deerstalker cap, his long traveling cloak, and his curved briar pipe. Doyle’s Holmes was a Victorian fashion plate who would have worn the first two garments only while in the country; while some illustrations had shown Holmes smoking a straight pipe, Gillette felt that the curved pipe was a better stage prop which, along with the cap and cloak, became distinctive trademarks for the detective. Additionally, Gillette played Holmes as a more arrogant character, often impatient with his colleagues’ inability to keep up with his deductions. Gillette wrote the phrase, “Oh, this is elementary, my dear fellow,” which Clive Brook, the first film Holmes, later edited to “Elementary, my dear Watson.” Neither phrase ever appeared in any of Doyle’s works.
Sherlock Holmes premiered at the Star Theater in Buffalo, New York, on October 23, 1899, and moved to Manhattan’s Garrick Theater on November 6, 1899. While not popular with the critics, audiences loved Gillette’s play and his interpretation of the popular detective. Until Gillette’s final appearance as Holmes on March 19, 1932, nearly 33 years after his first, Gillette appeared as Holmes approximately 1,300 times. Beyond his theatrical performances, illustrations and photographs of Gillette as Holmes circulated widely, and Doyle used Gillette’s Holmes as the model for illustrations of Holmes stories when he began writing new adventures for the detective in 1901.
Gillette made a fortune playing Holmes, and used part of that money, as well as his sense of ingenuity and fun, to build a castle, which he named the Seventh Sister, on property fronting the Connecticut River in East Haddam, Connecticut. Built from Connecticut stone, the castle has 24 rooms, with puzzle locks, secret doors, and even hidden mirrors that allowed Gillette to spy on his guests (including Albert Einstein and Calvin Coolidge) in order to time dramatic entrances for their amusement. The estate, now called Gillette Castle, is owned and maintained by Connecticut’s Department of Energy and Environmental Protection (DEEP). As a state park, it hosts approximately 100,000 visitors a year.
The Seventh Sister now known as Gillette Castle – Harriet Beecher Stowe Center and Connecticut State Library
Millions of mystery lovers around the world who never heard of William Gillette can recognize Sherlock Holmes on sight, largely because of the distinctive wardrobe and mannerisms Gillette created when he interpreted Holmes. Gillette died on April 29, 1937, in Hartford, Connecticut, and received a burial in the Hooker family cemetery in Farmington, Connecticut, next to his wife, Helen Nichols Gillette.
Emily E. Gifford is an independent historian specializing in the history of religion and social movements in the United States.
by Andy Piascik
For approximately one hundred years, from the middle of the 18th century to the middle of the 19th century, there was a black governor in Connecticut. Selection of a leader was an African tradition brought by black slaves to the British colonies and the practice became formally established in Connecticut in the 1750s. Despite its democratic origins, powerful whites usurped the position and used governors largely to help “maintain order” within the black population.
Historical accounts indicate the practice began in towns and that there were often several black governors in the state. The election of black governors was a formal affair with meetings, dinners, and a parade complete with dress clothes provided by white masters. Some blacks even donned white wigs—then popular among colonial magistrates and legislators.
Gravesite of Boston Trowtrow, Old Burying Ground, Norwich, a site on the Freedom Trail. The inscription reads: “In Memory of Boston Trowtrow Govener of ye Affrican Trib he Died May 28 1772 At 66.” – Jan Franco, FindAGrave.com
The only candidates considered for office were men, and there was an understanding that they also needed to be deemed respectable by whites before being allowed to run for election. It seems also to have been understood by all that the white power structure intervened as needed at any hint of a challenge to the status quo. White oversight continued and perhaps even intensified when the colonies plunged into war after the battles of Lexington and Concord.
In 1776, for example, with Connecticut’s government in the hands of the revolutionaries, a slave named John Anderson became black governor after his predecessor, who decided to step down, selected him. Philip Skene, a major in the British colonial army, who was in a Hartford prison at the time under suspicion of hostility to the new revolutionary government, owned John Anderson, and Anderson’s appointment aroused concerns that the move was a plot masterminded by Skene to incite blacks to side with the British.
An investigation determined that was not the case but also revealed that Anderson’s predecessor, a slave known as Cuff, appointed Anderson despite the blacks Cuff consulted indicating they did not want Anderson because his master was loyal to the British crown. In addition, Anderson confessed that he paid money to some of the same blacks to entice them to either go along with his selection or to vote for him in the event of an election. The insurgent government in Hartford appeared unbothered by the attempted vote buying and bypassing of the usual election procedure as long as Anderson was not in league with their British enemies. Anderson served a four-year term.
Historical accounts indicate the black governors had little, if any, significant independent power, as any punishment of blacks suspected of wrongdoing required the tacit approval of the white power structure. And though the governors provided mediation between blacks and whites, they had absolutely no power to discipline a white person who wronged a black.
This changed to a marginal degree as Connecticut began a process of gradual emancipation in 1784 and as the movement for full equality for blacks throughout the new nation grew ever-stronger in the 19th century. Overall, though, the primary task of the governors largely remained maintenance of the unequal status quo. The last known black governor in the state was Wilson Weston, who oversaw the black community in Seymour beginning in 1855.
In 1998, largely through the efforts of three middle school students, the city of Hartford erected a monument at the Ancient Burying Ground where it is believed more than one hundred blacks remain buried. Among those believed buried there were five Connecticut black governors.
Bridgeport native Andy Piascik is an award-winning author who has written for many publications and websites over the last four decades. He is also the author of two books.
by Patrick J. Mahoney
Israel Putnam is perhaps known best for his role as an American general during the Revolutionary War. The courage, leadership, and perseverance that endeared him to those of his cause, however, were qualities Putnam displayed long before the war, both in his youthful trailblazing exploits in Connecticut and his service as a colonial militiaman and ranger during the Seven Years’ War.
Recognized as a Connecticut hero, Putnam was born into an influential Massachusetts family in Salem Village, now known as the town of Danvers. Rather than settling into the comfortable life afforded him by his father’s inheritance, Putnam decided to strike out on his own, in what was then the wilderness of Connecticut. After purchasing a plot of uncultivated land from Massachusetts Governor Jonathan Belcher, a recently married Putnam and his 18-year-old bride, Hannah Pope, ventured about 75 miles south to start a new life in Connecticut. In the years that followed, the young Putnam quickly gained a reputation for resilience, building a comfortable new residence for his rapidly growing family and expanding his holdings through the arduous labors associated with farming and raising livestock.
Putnam’s Cave or Wolf Den. Drawing by John Warner Barber, ca. 1835. The story of Putnam and the wolf was an oft-repeated tale throughout the 18th and 19th centuries – Connecticut Historical Society
Putnam’s determination might best be conveyed in an anecdote from the winter of 1742–43 that first made its rounds among his farming peers and later lent itself to embellishment and inclusion in a number of popular 19th-century histories and biographies, including Samuel Goodrich’s Peter Parley children’s series. In the story (eventually referred to as “Putnam and the wolf”), the title character and five of his neighbors went on a hunt for a she-wolf that preyed on their domestic animals. Tracking the animal to its den in a hollowed cave, the men tried various tactics (such as smoke and musket shots) to draw her out. After contemplating whether his broad frame fit through the narrow entry, Putnam agreed to enter the cave, armed only with a makeshift torch and a rope around his foot enabling his comrades to pull him out in the event the wolf attacked. Crawling deep into the cavern, approximated at no more than three feet wide and two feet high, Putnam found the agitated wolf and then quickly signaled his neighbors to pull him out. After assessing the situation, he reentered the cavern with his musket and killed the animal with one shot. The resounding courage and heartiness displayed by Putnam proved indicative of not only the qualities that brought him success as a farmer, but also those that led him to military renown.
In the summer of 1755, as the turmoil between France and Great Britain began to intensify among each side’s allies and colonial possessions in North America, Putnam enlisted as a private in the first of the Connecticut regiments raised to assist in a military campaign against the French at Crown Point in New York. By the fall of that year, after earning distinction for his heroics at the Battle of Lake George, the legendary Robert Rogers recruited Putnam to serve as a ranger and scout. Serving in this capacity until 1758, Putnam saw action in a number of campaigns, including General James Abercromby’s ill-fated assault on Fort Ticonderoga in July of that year. In one raid, France’s Iroquois allies captured Putnam and nearly burned him alive before the intervention of a French officer saved him. As a prisoner of war, Putnam traveled to Montreal, and later Quebec, before the French eventually ransomed him. Upon returning to his Pomfret home in the winter of 1758, Putnam found that tales of his exploits in both colonial and English periodicals earned him a measure of international celebrity.
By the eve of the Revolution, Putnam, now remarried after the death of his wife Hannah in 1765, had settled back into life as a farmer and tavern owner. Displaying disdain for British colonial policy following the Seven Years’ War, he embraced news of the skirmishes at Lexington and Concord in April 1775, and soon offered his services to the fledgling patriot cause.
John Trumbull, The Death of General Warren at the Battle of Bunker’s Hill, June 17, 1775, 1786, oil on canvas. General Israel Putnam was the leader of the American troops and is thought to be at the far left of the painting – Boston Museum of Fine Arts
His first major engagement in the Revolution came at the Battle of Bunker Hill, where he played a central role in aligning patriot forces and ensuring order and calm among the men as they fought the superior forces of General William Howe. In the heat of the fray, Putnam (or one of his associates) purportedly delivered the now famous order for patriots not to shoot until seeing the “whites of their eyes,” so as to make the best use of the little ammunition available.
Following the Battle of Bunker Hill, General Washington awarded Putnam the commission of Major General. Congress supported the decision, recognizing Putnam as an indispensable leader who held the army together in its infancy. The image of “Old Put” (as some called him) riding along the lines at Bunker Hill with sword drawn, unperturbed by the dangers around him, embodied the growing belief in the colonials’ ability to fight successfully against British regulars. Although the effort ended in defeat, the early heroics of Putnam at Bunker Hill proved to be his crowning achievement in the Revolutionary War. Authorities later called his leadership and tactical abilities into question following his forced retreat at the Battle of Long Island in 1776, and a subsequently unsuccessful campaign in the New York Highlands. In the winter of 1779, while home on military leave, Putnam suffered a stroke, leaving him partially paralyzed and effectively ending his military career.
Putnam Phalanx at the tomb of General Putnam, Brooklyn, June 19, 1860, wood engraving – Connecticut Historical Society and Connecticut History Illustrated
A second stroke further debilitated Putnam in 1782, and he died on May 29, 1790, after years of illness. Timothy Dwight, who briefly served as chaplain to Putnam’s army while stationed in the Highlands, penned the former soldier’s epitaph, noting, “Ever attentive to the lives and happiness of his men…he dared to lead where any dared to follow.”
Patrick J. Mahoney is an adjunct professor in the history department at Sacred Heart University. He also writes the Hartford Historic Places column for Examiner.com.
