sent him what she had thought was an amusing account of the debut performance of an original drama full of swordplay and double-crosses and bold speeches. âEdwin is to be a cabinetmaker.â
It pained Mary Ann to admonish Edwin for his harmless playacting, but Junius was adamant that no more of his offspring should follow him onto the stage. When Edwin absorbed the edict in silence, regarding her sorrowfully with his large, dark, hauntingly expressive eyes, Mary Ann hastened to tell him that he could read Shakespeare as much as he liked, as long as he did not perform.
Not surprisingly, tempering Juniusâs decree failed to cheer Edwinâbut it did provoke a small, triumphant grin from John Wilkes, which he tried unsuccessfully to conceal. Mary Ann wished John did not enjoy his elder brotherâs disappointment, but she understood the impetus. Edwin always relegated John Wilkes to the least significant roles in his productions, performing bit parts with hardly any lines or clanging a triangle between acts. And yet she could not bring herself to scold John Wilkes for his resentment. She knew she shouldnât have a favorite child, but she could not help herselfâJohn Wilkes was hers. She did her best to make sure his siblings never suspected.
One day while Junius was home on a brief respite from touring, he came down from the attic wearing a black hat, fringed prayer shawl, and a quizzical expression. âDarling,â he asked, âis my Shylock robe in your sewing basket?â
âNo, I donât have it. Does it need mending?â
âNo, but I need it and it wasnât in any of my costume trunks.â Junius looked around the room as if hoping to find it misplaced on a bookshelf or armchair. âA few other pieces were missing too. I hope I didnât leave them in Richmond.â
âFather?â
Junius and Mary Ann turned to find John Wilkes in the doorway, hands clasped behind his back, eyes wide with innocence. âYes, son?â Junius replied, his frown softening. John Wilkes was his favorite child too.
âDo you mean the black robe with the shiny spangles in the front?â
âYes, thatâs the one. Do you know where it is?â
âI donât want to get anyone in troubleââ
âSpeak, boy,â Junius thundered.
âEdwin said he needed it for
Richard the Third
.â John gestured vaguely over his shoulder. âThe Tripple Alley Players are putting it on right now.â
âThe Tripple Alley Players?â echoed Mary Ann.
âEdwinâs theatre troupe. Him, Stuart, George, Sleepy, and some of the other boys perform in the basement of Barnumâs City Hotel on Calvert Street.â John looked from his mother to his father and back. âDidnât you know?â
Junius seized John by the upper arm. âLead on.â
John gulped and nodded as his father propelled him from the house.
Before long, Junius returned in a fury, yanking a tearful Edwin along by the scruff of his shirt, which Mary Ann quickly recognized as his fatherâs Shylock robe, cut down to resemble King Richardâs armor. John trailed along after them, his hands thrust in his pockets, his expression alternately merry and contrite.
Junius had interrupted the play at its climax, he told Mary Ann after he had thrashed Edwin soundly and sent him off to bed without supper. The hotel janitor, hired as the troupeâs doorman for a cut of the profits, had challenged Junius for the admission fee, but Junius had shoved past him and had stormed into the makeshift theatre just as Edwin was desperately offering his kingdom for a horse. When his outraged father burst into the room, Edwin bolted for the window, but Junius grabbed his legs when he was only halfway through, rendering the boy ideally situated for a spanking. Edwinâs wails attracted a passing policeman, who seized Edwin by the arms, believing he had captured a young burglar. Thus