It’s not everyone who gets to create the first permanent theater west of the Mississippi River, make out like a bandit on Lafayette Square residential acreage, and keep Missouri in the Union as the Civil War loomed. But Sol Smith did.
A recent essay in this space featured Adelina Patti, opera diva of the late 1800s. As a child phenomenon on nationwide tour at the age of 12, she played dolls with the granddaughter of Sol Smith. He owned the St. Louis Theatre, where she performed. Over the years, many stage luminaries visited with “Old Sol,” who was known as the father of St. Louis theater.
The beginnings of stage theater in the West
Despite the many fine historic theaters in St. Louis over the years, the development of staged arts was delayed by strong French Catholic sentiment in the early settlement, before 1815. As more immigrants of British origin arrived, a small troupe first performed at a single story blacksmith’s shop that had just been converted into the city’s first courthouse.
The history of live theater in America before 1800 is like the history of carnivals; fly-by-night gypsy operations performed wherever they might without running afoul of the law. An audience was always uncertain, resulting in unpaid bills wherever the take ran short of expenses. This sometimes led the whole troupe to travel with collectors hot on their heels. A small town would set up an indoor stage and refer to it as an ‘opera house,’ but that was a real stretch.
In the winter of 1818, English actors arrived in St. Louis by steamboat, and set up in a loft over a stable serving the Green Tree Tavern. Unencouraged by the reception, they vanished again within several months. The next year a small auditorium was fitted out for dramatic performances at Olive and Main Streets. It seated 600 on tiered benches and weekend performances cost a dollar.
Introducing Solomon Smith
The focus of this story is Sol Smith, born in New York in 1801. He worked on a farm, and in a store, but being “of a roving disposition,” moved west. Sol tried his hand at being a clerk, a printer, an actor, a law student and an editor. In Vincennes, Indiana, he joined an actors group, making his debut in 1819. When his printing office burned, he was off to Nashville as a printer. Convinced that acting would be his true vocation, Sol walked the 300 miles to Cincinnati and enlisted with another acting society.
From 1820 through 1822, Smith studied law while engaged in the theater. He married an actress and started a singing school, began a newspaper in support of Andrew Jackson and wrote for the stage. Upon selling the paper a year later, he resolved to manage a dramatic company of his own. Sol then opened the Globe Theater in Cincinnati. Its inaugural season was a failure, netting a loss of $11.50.
Sol Smith took his show on the road then, and his traveling company played Ohio River towns, and as far east as Philadelphia. There, at the Vauxhall Gardens, he was once paid in drink tickets, which were then distributed to the male actors.
The troupe kept on the move, with creditors frequently on the lookout. Sol told a story of a Saturday take amounting to $14.00, and being informed that a sheriff was waiting for the play to end so he could collect on a debt twice that amount. Smith instructed that the lawman be given the best seat in the house, and the group performed songs, dances and comic bits as the sheriff laughed heartily. The show extended past midnight and afterward, the sheriff approached Sol, complimenting him, but demanding payment. Sol pointed out that as it was now Sunday, the local law forbade conducting business. The sheriff said he would return. By Monday, the little band was far away.
Sol takes his show on the road
After a stint playing organ for an Episcopal church in New Jersey and running a singing school, Sol Smith and his company travelled to New Orleans, beginning a tour of the Mississippi and Ohio River towns. By 1828, he had developed a reputation “second to none in America, his forte being low comedy.” Known as “Old Sol” for his frequent portrayal of an old man, Smith developed the stage persona of “a polished purveyor of theatrical art in a backward territory.” He had a deadpan manner, and often impersonated a preacher, doctor, or steamboat pilot. His love was Shakespeare, and he was equally capable of taking nearly any part in a number of the Bard’s plays.
One of the scores of stories told was by actor John Gilbert. He related that when St. Louis was a small city paved with mud, he bought a new pair of fine leather boots, making him the envy of his companions. En route to New Orleans, the boat overnighted at Vicksburg to take on a load of cotton. The actors decided to put on a play, and had a man ring a bell and make an announcement in town.
That night the tumble-down shed they used was filled and Sol Smith dressed to perform. He came to Gilbert, dolefully displaying his worn shoes through which his socks were visible. Sol wailed about having to appear before the high culture of Vicksburg in such shoes. Gilbert agreed, and lent his boots to Sol for the performance. They were much too large for Smith, but he looked stage worthy.
Receiving his $20 share of the proceeds, Sol wandered around the town, lost all his money in a gambling saloon, drank too much brandy and staggered back to the boat. He arrived there without anything on his feet. John Gilbert’s new boots remained behind, stuck in the black mud of Vicksburg. This forced Gilbert to travel to New Orleans in Sol’s small and perforated shoes while Sol padded around in a pair of slippers the steamboat captain generously provided.
Sol wrote in his memoirs that for the next ten years he never had enough money to last a week, and resorted to all kinds of ‘expedients’ to eke out a living. In the balance he saw the country and gathered material from his experiences to flesh out many characters.
He organized another company in Auburn, New York, and played his way out west. There were no booking companies in those days, so several men from the troupe would usually go out in an advance boat to survey the next town down river. They hung a white sheet on a tree along the riverbank to indicate where the rest should stop to put on a show that night
One night the second boat saw the sheet on the riverbank, though they could see no settlement, just virgin forest. A man appeared from the woods and informed them they were in the new town of Lewiston. He pointed to handbills posted to trees, and took them around the ‘town,’ indicating Broadway and Wall Street, the courthouse and jail and school. These were all imaginary.
The host provided dinner to the party and an audience began to assemble from out of the woods. The stage was a 12 x 16 foot loft in a cabin. There the troupe performed a comic opera and a one act farce. Rolled linen dipped in tallow and stuck in potatoes served as stage lights. When the wicks burned out, the performance ended. The next morning the players received an enthusiastic invitation for the following year, when a new theater would surely be built.
In 1828, Smith and company arrived at Port Gibson, Mississippi by steamer. Word of his fame preceded him and the theater filled long before the curtain rose. His brother Lem announced that Sol Smith was indisposed and would not appear that evening. The crowd booed and hissed, believing that his absence was due to excessive drinking.
“At this crisis, a raw, uncouth, green looking creature rose from one of the seats and exclaimed, ‘Hello, Stranger! I’ll be damned if you serve me that trick. I’ve walked all the way from Copiah and paid my dollar to see this show. Solomon Smith ain’t sick or if he is, I’m damned and I’ll have a fight or else see this show.’ With that, the rough hewn customer yanked off his coat, rolled up his sleeves and barged down the aisle, as Lem trembled on stage, fearing he would be knocked into the next week. The brute waded through the musicians and about the time he mounted the stage, the audience roared with laughter to discover it was old Sol Smith all along.”
Coming to St. Louis and settling down
The Old Salt Theater was the first real repertory theater in St. Louis, and indeed, west of the Mississippi. Noah Ludlow had come up from New Orleans with a small company of players, looking for a building to convert to a theater. He selected the upper two stories of an old salt warehouse just north of Olive Street. In 1819, he formed a dramatic company and worked an arrangement with territorial governor William Clark to ignore taxes while providing Clark carte blanche in return.
When the theater opened, one had to climb a flight of stairs from the alley to enter. Fittings were plain, seats were backless benches and the place was illuminated by gas lamps.
St. Louis was then a town of about 4,000 inhabitants, half of whom were French, with little interest in English drama. A newspaper ad of the time assured possible patrons that none of the actors suffered from “addictive habits of dissipation.” Theater was aimed low then, and a stage rule of Ludlow’s stipulated that oaths could be uttered only once in a sentence. Critics advised that certain actors get their clothes washed and/or tailored, and that more music be used to obscure backstage noises. The sultry St. Louis summers forced a policy that production of tragedies be avoided, as tormenting both body and soul was too much.
In 1828, the theater first played host to celebrated comedic actor Solomon (Old Sol) Smith.
He returned for an engagement in 1835, forming a copartnership with Ludlow, who put up the money while Smith was responsible for developing actors and staging productions. The Old Salt House was destroyed by fire two years later.
The theater handbill above, from 1828, shows that the promise of spectacle was equal to the weight of acting talent in a Saturday evening’s production. A Russian city covered in snow, a bear-drawn sled, street scene, Siberian desert and snowstorm were featured attractions. Gloriously cool for early September in St. Louis.
A burgeoning city grows into the arts
Popular success led to a demand for creation of a finer arts house, and following the fire, the St. Louis Theatre was built with $65,000 raised by public subscription. It stood on the Southeast corner of Third and Olive Streets, and was the first permanent theater built west of the Mississippi.
Designed by Meriwether Lewis Clark, the new four-story building was meant to have a Parthenon style front with six stone columns, frieze, cornice and entablature. The columns were never added, and the structure more resembled a large barn than a Greek temple. Capacity was 1,500, with seats arranged in three tiers. There was a saloon on the second floor for men, and a ladies ‘retiring room,’ with refreshments on the first floor. Both failed as the women felt their visits might be misconstrued by others, and the mens bar grew too raucous during performances. Designed as a summer theater, it had large windows to encourage air circulation. The stage featured a drop curtain hand painted by “celebrated artist John Leslie.” Ludlow and Smith occupied it in summers from 1845 through 1850, while also running theaters they owned in New Orleans (St. Charles Theater) and Mobile for the winter seasons.
Cultured entertainment was new to St. Louis, and it took time to develop a sense of propriety among the early audience members. Men sometimes wore their hats when seated, or stood and talked during a performance. Women weren’t even allowed in without an escort. The management of the theater was puritanical by local standards, in an attempt to cultivate a more refined place for theatergoers.
Before 1845, stage entertainment consisted of minstrel shows, panoramas, and displays of hypnotism and clairvoyance. By the time St. Louis’s population reached 36,000, it had become cosmopolitan enough to successfully host Shakespeare and opera. One night featured Carl Maria von Weber’s opera “Die Freischutz.” It played to a full house that included nine Sioux Indian chiefs, guests of Missouri Fur Company president and US Superintendent for Indian Affairs Joshua Pilcher. Ludlow recalled:
“When the flames flashed up from the earth, the ‘wild host’ rushed through the air, the moon turned blood red, thunder rolled and lightning flashed, figures of the dead in shrouds appeared and doleful groans and piercing shrieks were heard…these Indian chiefs became greatly excited and sprang to their feet, attempting to leave their seats, quite alarmed, and would have gone out, had not Colonel Pilcher detained them.”
Unfortunately, there’s no recorded mention of their opinion of the performance. The local press was thrilled to have the theater as a new cultural attraction, and the Missouri Republican of April 25,1845 heralded “Old Sol, the sun of the theater.”
This, from the New Orleans Times Picayune in 1840:
Smith always shared a yin and yang relationship with Ludlow; Sol was a gregarious and happy man, whereas Noah was often characterized as a “cold stiff introvert.” Their association would last, despite frequent conflicts, from 1837 through 1853.
The theatre hits its stride
The St. Louis Theatre specialized in Shakespeare, and hosted many significant traveling shows that passed through town. P.T. Barnum entrusted Sol with managing the five evening appearance of Jenny Lind and her orchestra. He also booked stage luminaries including Charlotte Cushman, Edward Forrest, Ellen Tree and Junius Booth (father of Edwin and John Wilkes Booth). Sol’s own specialty would today be called lowbrow humor, not particularly topical or satirical, but played simply for laughs. His humorous writings were widely read and served to broaden his popularity throughout the Mississippi Valley.
Historian Charles Van Ravenswaay documented some strange happenings at the St. Louis Theatre. On one occasion, Junius Booth was drunk while playing Richard III; in the battle scene he got carried away. After actually wounding the actor playing Richmond, Booth chased him off the stage and out of the theater into the street.
Smith and Ludlow (left) shared up and down years, running the St. Louis, New Orleans, and Mobile theaters. Competition, weather and epidemics sometimes conspired to ruin otherwise promising shows. Both partners continued to act; Smith in comedic roles and Ludlow in more refined parts.
It’s remarkable that no production in their 25 years ran more than 19 evenings. Handbills were changed daily, and most nights featured a pair of plays. The pace and effort expended to keep things orderly; when scenery, costumes and actors were all flying around must have been phenomenal.
Over a six year period, the partners brought in 553 dramas, after-pieces and farces, including 111 performances of 13 Shakespearean plays. They had a virtual lock on St. Louis theater until two new show places opened in 1845. Their theater stood for only 14 years, and by 1850, the exterior was in bad shape, although the inside was still beautiful. Reliant on flame-spitting oil lamps, theaters frequently caught fire. In fact, Ludlow and Smith’s venue in Mobile was reduced to ruins twice at substantial loss to the owners. In St. Louis they employed wing hands whose job it was to monitor the lamps, mopping with water whenever something flared up.
The end of a troubled partnership
By 1853, the only conversations between the two regarded business. So it was inevitable that business disagreements ended the otherwise effective and profitable partnership. Ben DeBar, stage manager for Ludlow and Smith in New Orleans, took over both the St. Charles and St. Louis Theaters that year. The St. Louis Theatre was sold to the US Government, which built the old Post Office and Customs House on the site.
DeBar opened his Grand Opera House in 1873, and became famous for his portrayal of Falstaff. The Shakespeare statue in Tower Grove Park has a rendition of DeBar as Falstaff on its east pedestal face.
After 1853, Sol Smith retired from theatrical management and largely from acting. He turned his attention to practicing law in St. Louis and continued in this capacity until his death. Sol was recognized for the gratis legal work he provided for orphan asylums and the poor. He was a capable mentor, as his son Mark Smith and nephew Sol Smith Russell also became accomplished actors.
With the sale of the theaters and the success of his legal practice (he must have provided some entertaining moments in the courtroom), Sol enjoyed financial security for the first time in his life. It’s a testament to him that he then played his hand so well, as his early life was lived on the margins, and prosperity was a new experience.
A timely investment among influential friends
In 1851, Mayor John Darby and Thomas Riddick began to sell off the St. Louis Common (except for Lafayette Park) to fund city schools. Seeing an opportunity, Sol Smith snapped up four acres along Lafayette Avenue across from the park. Buying on the installment plan, his cash investment was $587.00. Smith wrote, “It was away in the woods and I had 99 years to pay off, with the privilege of securing my fee simple title at any time.” He then turned his attention back to the theater.
His new property in Lafayette Square lay adjacent to that of the earliest residents of the area; business and cultural leaders including Charles Gibson, Archibald Gamble and Edward Bredell. This brought him into their political world as well, with which he fit nicely. Sol’s public speaking skills and easy disposition were to become assets in keeping Missouri in the Union, as you will see.
When Sol sold his land for creation of the Lafayette Addition in 1859, he netted a total of $77,500, thus redeeming an incredible investment. He had begun “about even with the world,” and was now free of debt, living comfortably in a nice home on trendy Chouteau Avenue, between 8th and Catalpa Streets.
Choosing a side on the question of disunion
By the 1856 presidential election, slavery and disunion were immediate issues. The pro-slavery Democrats ran James Buchanan against the anti-slavery Republican party’s John C. Fremont. There was a third party, successor to the Whigs, called the Know Nothings, that took no position on slavery and focused instead on anti-immigrant and anti-Catholic policies. The Know Nothings nominated Millard Fillmore, who was out of the country, unaware of his nomination at the time, and not even affiliated with the Know Nothings. He seems to have personified the party name.
Buchanan won both the popular and electoral votes. The Know Nothings were finished as a force, and mostly merged with the Republicans. The Democratic Party was riven by its own primary elections after Stephen Douglas went up against the incumbent Franklin Pierce, while Pennsylvania pushed for Buchanan. It was a nasty battle, with Buchanan coming out on top. Thus divided, Democrats would not win the White House again for nearly thirty years.
The Democratic Party, splintered and ineffective, reflected the country at the time. Into this fracas stepped Sol Smith, who became Vice President of the American Party of Missouri in April, 1857. The platform he put forth called for a radical change in naturalization laws “to maintain the purity of our institutions and to preserve our nationality.” Its other chief aim was to devote “best energies to the preservation of the Federal Union.” Slavery was to be left to the complete discretion of each State.
St. Louis business chooses for Union
In December of 1860, South Carolina seceded from the Union, followed the next month by Mississippi, Florida, Alabama, Georgia and Louisiana. On February 1,1861 Charles Gibson convened a large meeting in the small hall of St. Louis’s Mercantile Library. Archibald Gamble called the meeting to order and nominated Sol Smith chairman. Sol was elected by acclamation and took the rostrum to great applause.
Sol emphasized that this was a meeting of citizens unconditionally opposed to secession. Charles Gibson led the committee that drafted resolutions. Edward Bredell presented the report, which proved illegible, so the author was asked to approach the dais to read it aloud. Sol Smith observed that Charles Gibson had two handwritings, one which he couldn’t read, and one which no-one else could read. In addition to “making people laugh, it also distracted attention from the not very graceful efforts of a gentlemen in tight breeches, trying to step upon a platform three feet in height.”
Another gentleman rose and suggested formation of a fire committee as the hall was very cold. Smith suggested he constitute a committee of one, and “fire away.”
After several speeches in favor of the Union, and outlining the obstacles to alignment with Democrats, the resolutions committee presented a platform. It stated their intention to “calmly await the issue of passing events before taking any other position,” while maintaining “fraternal relations with all the States.” The plan was to consult with other border States to determine a shared path, and that, outside of adherence to the Union, the Americans should keep “aloof from the ordinary political arena.” That was to say,“free from party management and party control.”
This was all in advance of an expected statewide referendum on secession, although St. Louis politics steered the state at that time. The resolutions were passed, and Charles Gibson addressed others qualms about supporting the Union “unreservedly” by stating,“Anyone who is not unreservedly for the Union is a conditional secessionist.” This drew applause from the hall.
The next day’s Daily Missouri Republican called it “patriotism at the expense of partisanship.” In light of the events of early 2021, the following report from Edward Bredell as chair of the resolutions committee should read familiar:
“The various party organizations of this city became very exasperated during the last State and Presidential campaigns. Events subsequent to the Presidential election greatly inflamed their mutual hatred. They had assumed semi-military organizations, and are said to have been generally armed and quite ready for conflict with each other… A riot at a public meeting, or a collision in the streets, might become the spark for a bloody civil commotion and lead to consequences most deplorable and disastrous.”
“We repeat it as our opinion that the people of St. Louis most earnestly desire to avoid, at this time, a contest between rival parties, which were lately said to be armed to the teeth, and which might lead to bloodshed and great disorder.”
This group concluded,“The public needs repose, and its welfare is best promoted through mutual forbearance, discretion and conciliation.” The American group believed,“burying the party hatchet” would “redress all grievances, compromise sectional differences, and bring about once more the days of harmony, peace and plenty, re-establishing the foundations of government deeply and securely in the hearts of a loving and loyal people.”
Noble sentiments alone don’t make for peace, however. With Fort Sumter suffering under a blockade in South Carolina, there was a real sense of urgency to arrive at some conclusion.
As the leaders of the American Party in St. Louis were also the city’s business leaders, it made sense that civil order was most conducive to uninterrupted commerce, but that was much less of a concern outside the city. The committee attempted to address this, stating, “We believe the people of Missouri outside of St. Louis are as intelligent and patriotic as those in St. Louis, and will not continue to complain of those who are ready to yield for the sake of the Union.” How the committee statement would enable this outcome was left unwritten.
Another committee was then proposed, to nominate candidates for the statewide convention determining whether to secede.
The declaration of principles from the American group claimed there was no cause at the time for Missouri secession, that the fear of such cause was no reason to leave the Union, that forbearance and concession was more effective in resolving differences than “threats and menaces.” It added that if and when all efforts at conciliation with the Free States and extreme Southern States had failed, they would meet in convention to decide what the next best course might be. A specific demand was made for continued free and uninterrupted use of the Mississippi River.
Sol Smith concluded this meeting with an anecdote about meeting a young man on the street the day before, who said, “Aha! You’ve fallen into a Republican trap.” Smith said he wasn’t aware of that, but was for the Union. “Oh, so am I; I am for the Union, but Missouri ought to present her ultimatum.” Sol asked what he meant by ultimatum, and the young man said he didn’t know, but was in favor of telling “the Northern States that unless they behaved better, we will give them hell!” Later, Sol looked to Webster for a definition. Studying the derivations of ‘ultimatum,’ he found “postremus,” meaning “the last, the vilest, the meanest, the most contemptible” and he thought that was the proper interpretation. The resulting hilarity was Sol’s cue to leave them laughing and end the meeting.
Into a statewide convention
A committee of fifteen, representing St. Louis at the statewide convention, was chosen. It included Sol Smith, Hamilton Gamble, and former Mayor John How. The political situation in the country was growing worse by the day, and the orations became more fiery, like that of Francis Preston Blair, who asserted,
“We didn’t buy Louisiana from Bonaparte to let those fellows run off with it…they seized empty forts and full treasuries, instead of empty treasuries and armed forts. I argue that these fellows are better at stealing than fighting. Let the traitors go, we shall be clearer and better for the loss; but we will not let them take away a single dust of the nation’s soil – not as much as they can carry away under their dirty fingernails.”
The statewide convention was held in Jefferson City three weeks later. An overwhelmingly pro-Union group of electors there upheld Missouri’s allegiance to the Union. The set of resolutions that came from it (The Crittenden Compromise) revealed a true border state, preserving slavery while rejecting secession. It maintained the lines of the Missouri Compromise, and forbade Congress abolishing slavery in existing slave states or interfering with the interstate slave trade. It also prescribed that Congress compensate owners of escaped slaves, and proposed to forever prohibit amendments revoking any of these provisions.
The resolution affirmed that there was no cause for Missouri to leave the Union; indeed there was no constitutional provision for States to leave the Union legally. Missouri would do all in its power to peacefully restore order through its compromise. Although it held that a revolution could be justifiable in theory, nothing had been done by the US “government to justify secession, nullification or revolution.” It wrapped up by claiming agreement on Missouri’s opposition to acts of war by either side.
The vote from the convention was 98-1 for remaining in the Union. Missouri was the only state to hold such a referendum without it leading to secession.
While supported by Southern and border State members, Republicans and President Lincoln strongly opposed the pro-slavery elements of this proposal. Missouri stayed in the Union without seeing the Crittenden Compromise embraced. Nor was the state successful in avoiding conflict, as military companies formed for each side, troops marched and fought, and guerrilla war broke out in Western Missouri. As the general tide of war turned toward the Union, Missouri finally outlawed slavery in 1864, and began a new chapter once peace was reestablished.
Epilogue – Old Sol exits the stage
The next generation of theaters and actors had moved in by 1853. The Bates Theatre at 4th and Pine, the St. Louis Ampitheatre and Western Circus at 3rd and Olive and Grand Opera House on Market Street, were all open by 1853, siphoning audience and profits from the St. Louis Theatre. Ludlow and Smith finally called it quits, having successfully fathered the appetite for live theater in the city.
Conflict seemed to be the order of the day in the 1850s. The friction between Ludlow and Smith was constant. In 1857, Smith lent Ludlow a sizable amount of money which he claimed Ludlow failed to repay. They were bitter enemies after that. The rift between North and South was even reflected in the two men, with Smith backing the Union, and Ludlow the Confederacy. Feelings between them were soured enough that Ludlow’s memoir, written years later, made no mention of Smith at all.
Sol wrote three autobiographical books in 1846, 1854 and 1868. He also authored numerous articles and essays, all about his theatrical experiences and life on the road. As for the Civil War, at 60 years of age, he was too old to take an active role. Then again, Smith had fought his way through Richard III and Henry V, so had some solid stage experience with conflict.
When Old Sol died in 1869 at the age of 68, it appeared that he’d lived up to his nickname. The Missouri Republican noted that he “was numbered among our oldest citizens.” The average expectancy in 1870 was about 40 years. He chose the epitaph carved into his headstone at Bellefontaine Cemetery. It reads:
Life’s but a walking shadow – a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more.”
EXIT SOL!
There is also a plain headstone in Bellefontaine Cemetery, in the same section as the Smith family. It marks the resting place of young actress, Blanche Shea. During a play at the St. Louis Theatre in 1851, a weight from high above the back stage fell, killing her instantly. The headstone notes that it was erected to her memory by Sol Smith. His was a long life well-lived, and he still found time for some nice touches.
Thanks to research sources including:
The Theater On The Frontier; William G.B. Carson; University of Chicago Press; 1932
St.Louis, The Fourth City; Walter Barlow Stevens; 1909
Encyclopedia of the History of St.Louis; William Hyde and Howard Conard; Southern History Company, 1905. Volume IV, p.2087
Sol Smith; Encyclopedia of Alabama; Charles S. Watson, Tuscaloosa, Alabama, encyclopediaofalabama.org
Saint Louis – An Informal History of the City and its People, 1764-1865; Charles van Ravenswaay; Missouri Historical Society Press, 1991
BDM Eaton for the St. Louis Globe-Democrat; September 22,1912
The Final Years; Ohio State University PhD thesis of Larry Eugene Grisvard, 1965
Missouri Republican; February 15,1869 p.2
Veterans Tell Of Great Players In The Old Days Of Drama In St. Louis; William Brumby for the St. Louis Republic of April 19,1903 p.55
St Louis Star and Times; June 3, 1933 p. 6, June 6, 1933 (his real estate dealings) p.6, and March 5 1945, p.10
Barnstorming in the Olden Days; New York Tribune; February 4,1906, p.44 for Smith anecdotes.
Notes from F.C. Shoemaker of the State Historical Society at Columbia, April 21,1933 and July 30,1943
St. Louis Post-Dispatch for coverage of first night at the St. Louis Theater; July 3,1932, p.22. Notes about Bellefountaine Cemetery from November 1, 1896, p.25. Drawing of St.Louis Theater from July 27,1938. Early Days of the Theater; Clarissa Start; July 27,1938, p.26
The website classic.circushistory.org features T. Allison Brown’s History of the American Stage; (Benjamin Blom; New York/London, 1870), which was provided a useful pocket biography of Sol Smith.
St Louis Theater note from the New Orleans Times-Picayune of May 30, 1840, p.2
Anecdote about John Gilbert from the Burlington Vermont Free Press of August 9,1879, p.4
There is an excellent treatment of the many twists in the 1856 Presidential election at Wikipedia; https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1856_United_States_presidential_election
Sol Smith signed the minutes of the Sixth Session of the American State Council of Missouri on April 15th,1857. Full text in Springfield (Missouri) Mirror of April 23, 1857, p. 2
Meeting to create Unconditional Unionist platform from St. Louis For The Union; St. Louis Globe-Democrat of January 31, 1861, p.2 , Gibson’s Meeting Chapter II, Daily Missouri Republican February 1, 1861, p2; Unconditional Union Meeting; Daily Missouri Republican February 5, 1861 p.2; and Unconditional Union Meeting – St. Louis All Right; St. Louis Globe-Democrat February 7,1862, p.2
Description of Statewide secession convention from The Missouri Kansas Conflict 1854-1865; Jason Roe for the Kansas City Public Library; https://civilwaronthewesternborder.org/blog/missouri-rejects-secession
Mike, this latest contribution to the various aspects of St. Louis history was most informative and enlightening! Thank you so much for your thorough research, and for the terrific illustrations.
Renate Langer
Thank you so much for your article on my great great great great grandfather, Sol Smith.