“The Single
Dude”
“The Double
Dude”
These two posters represent the
character, Knox Dunlap the “dude,” in W. A. Mestayer’s production, “We Us and
Co.,” sometimes referred to as, “We Us and Co., At the Hot Mud Springs” (the small dog and high collar were both fashions closely associated with "Dudes" at the time).
Described as a “whimsical absurdity,”[i]
We, Us & Co.” was written in 1884, and performed beginning in September
1884 and running through at least 1885.
It was the “story of a quack doctor at the Mud Springs, his partner, his
patients and his servants.”[ii] Presumably, the “dude” was a patient, a
wealthy young snob from the big city, in town to take the cure (or something
like that).
It is not clear whether the character
of the “dude” or the poster bearing his image were in the earliest versions of
the show, but the earliest references to the character appear in April of 1885,
at the same time as the earliest references to the poster.
A critic imagined the writing process
that would result in inane entertainment like “We, Us & co.,” and disparaged
the look of the actor playing the role.
Eleven million absurdities were thrown into a cask and
stirred with a pole. As the worst came
to the top they were skimmed off and mixed.
The resulting compound was evaporated to a yielding consistency and
labeled “We, Us & Co.” . . .
Knox Dunlap, the dude, done by Samuel Reed, was nearly, but
not quite so handsome as his portraits exhibited in the shop windows.”
The Sunday Truth (Buffalo, New York), March 2, 1885, page 7.
Mr. Mestayer replaced Reed in the
role a month later, during a successful engagement in New York City.
[O]n Tuesday he engaged Mr. Augustus Bruno to take the part
of the dude, whose portrait is the most widely circulated advertisement in
connection with the entire company. . . .
He will be remembered as the comedian who originally played the wild
Irish conductor in “The Tourists.” Mr.
Bruno was, as far back as the occasion named, one of the most amusing comedians
on the stage.
The New York Times, April 23, 1885, page 2.
Gus Bruno may have been funny, but he
was also trouble. In his previous stint with Mestayer in “The Tourists,” he reportedly got a swell head from
success and demanded more and more pay, which landed him out of the company and
relegated him back to low-grade “variety” theater.[iii] And even after signing his contract to play the “dude,”
he was reportedly rehearsing a different show for a different company before
his first performance in the role, resulting in threats of litigation.[iv]
It must have all worked out, however, as he
joined the show and went on tour with them. But being on the road brought new troubles. In Kansas City, he was accused
of blackmail. An account in the press
(perhaps written by Mestayer’s press agent) described the charges as “trumped
up.”
And then he got in more trouble on an
overnight train.
[A] few days ago, while on a train going West with the party,
he got into another trouble, which the Omaha Bee tells of as follows: “While in
Omaha he got so full of disagreeable bug juice that on the sleeping car his
actions were greatly annoying to the other passengers. Two or three times the colored porter tried
to quit him, but without good results. Finally
the porter gave Mr. Bruno a strong thrashing, which had the effect of silencing
the boisterous gentleman for several minutes, but the war broke out again. Bruno watched an opportunity, and when the
porter’s back was turned, jumped on him and commenced to chew his neck, ears
and cheek. The porter was so badly
chewed up that he had to stop off and return here yesterday for medical
treatment. It is common for actors to be known as scene eaters, but porter chewers are not frequent among them.”
The Butte Miner (Montana), June 27, 1885, page 4.
Bruno’s time on earth nearly expired
a few weeks later, when he outran a lynch mob out for blood. Her father was angry and the girl was just 12
years old. He beat the rap, but was
fined $25 for striking her father with a “light cane.”
The white-faced fugitive was “Gus” Bruno, the comedian, who
plays the dude in Mestayer’s “We, Us & Co.” combination. With flying feet he tried to escape from the
infuriated father, who headed the pursuers. . . .
The man who led the chase was A. Kronberg, a highly
respectable, well-to-do man who has a beautiful little girl named Etta, whose
form is riper than the twelve years that have passed over her curly head would
warrant. Kronberg saw Bruno loafing
around his house yesterday. He has been
already suspicious of Bruno’s intentions toward his daughter and a pretty
little playmate of her age, and when he saw Bruno to-day, he charged him with
trying to wreck his innocent child’s life. . . .
In the police court Kronberg swore that Bruno had thrice
tried to inveigle Etta and her playmate into his rooms. The prosecution could prove no criminal
intent. Bruno was fined $25 for striking
Kronberg with his cane. He paid it and
hurried out of town, protesting that his only purpose in coaxing the little
girls to him was to give them tickets to the theater.
There is no doubt that Bruno would have been lynched if the
police had not protected him. The excitement
in town is frightful and every father seems to think that Bruno would have met
his deserts had he been swung to a lamp post.
The Butte Weekly Miner, July 22, 1885, page 2.
Years later, after Gus Bruno had
become a “high priced comedian on the Manhattan stage,” he was remembered as
the last surviving member of one of the best teams of Johnson & Bruno, one the best teams of song and dance men from
the 1870s. [v] Success brought other changes as well. He may have been "white faced" running from the mob in San Francisco, but he was frequently black-faced back in his variety theater days.
The “We, Us & Co.” posters also
have a passing resemblance to a later famous poster (1894), with a younger
face, fewer teeth, longer hair and a different collar; a poster that may be the
original inspiration for the image that would later be named Alfred E. Neuman,
the face of Mad Magazine.
See, “The
Original Alfred E.” and “The
Real Alfred E.”
[i] Detroit Free Press, September 19, 1884,
page 13.
[ii] Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, October 4,
1884, page 8.
[iii] The New York Times, April 23, 1885, page
2 (“As soon, however, as ‘The Tourists’ made a great success Mr. Bruno became
convinced that he was the sole attraction, and he proceeded to make demands
upon the management which they could not have complied with and preserve any
chance of making money or retaining their control of the entertainment. He was accordingly dropped, and instead of
ruling the country he receded into the variety realm from which he had sprung.”).
[iv] The Butte Weekly Miner, May 13, 1885,
page 1.
[v] Times Union (Brooklyn, New York),
November 29, 1902, page 2.
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