THE LIFE OF
DAVID BELASCO
VOLUME TWO
[Illustration]
“_I will not be slack to play_
_my part in Fortune’s pageant!_”
--Shakespeare
[Illustration: DAVID BELASCO
“_The natural successor of Lester Wallack, Edwin Booth and Augustin
Daly, as the leading theatrical manager of America._”--W. W.
From a portrait made for this Memoir
by Arnold Genthe, New York.
]
THE LIFE
OF
DAVID BELASCO
BY
WILLIAM WINTER
(1836-1917)
“He, being dead, yet speaketh.”
VOLUME TWO
NEW YORK
MOFFAT, YARD AND COMPANY
1918
COPYRIGHT, 1918, BY
JEFFERSON WINTER
_All Rights Reserved_
CONTENTS
THE LIFE OF DAVID BELASCO--VOLUME TWO
PAGE
“UNDER TWO FLAGS.”--BLANCHE BATES THE RISING
STAR 1
BELASCO AND DAVID WARFIELD:--THEIR FIRST
MEETING 6
WARFIELD AND “THE AUCTIONEER” 11
IN THE GRIP OF THE OCTOPUS.--ANCIENT METHODS
IN MODERN BUSINESS 16
TESTIMONY UNDER OATH.--BELASCO _VERSUS_ ERLANGER 20
LAW _VERSUS_ JUSTICE 23
A FAITHFUL FRIEND:--WARFIELD FOR BELASCO.--THE
END OF “THE AUCTIONEER” 24
TEMPERAMENTAL SYMPATHY.--EARLY READING:
“THE LOW SUN MAKES THE COLOR” 28
GENESIS OF BELASCO’S _DU BARRY_.--CHARACTER OF
THE HISTORIC ORIGINAL 31
A FANCIFUL FABRIC.--“DU BARRY” FIRST PRODUCED 34
RICHEPIN AND THE “DU BARRY” LAWSUIT 42
A GRACIOUS TRIBUTE.--“REMEMBER THAT WE
LOVED YOU” 45
THE THEATRIC _RICHMOND_ “LOOKS PROUDLY O’ER
THE CROWN” 47
A DANGEROUS ACCIDENT.--ALTERING THE REPUBLIC 52
THE FIRST BELASCO THEATRE 55
“AFTER THIRTY YEARS OF LABOR.”--BELASCO IN
HIS OWN THEATRE:--THE OPENING NIGHT 60
THE FIRST PROGRAMME 62
A STUPID DISPARAGEMENT.--INCEPTION OF “THE
DARLING OF THE GODS” 67
THE PLAY AND THE PERFORMANCE OF “THE DARLING
OF THE GODS” 73
THE CREATION OF DRAMATIC EFFECTS.--DIFFICULTIES
WITH THE RIVER OF SOULS 82
AN OPERATIC PROJECT.--PETTY PERSECUTIONS.--AN
ARREST FOR LIBEL 85
SECOND SEASON AT THE BELASCO.--A CONTEMPTIBLE
OUTRAGE 91
HENRIETTA CROSMAN AND “SWEET KITTY BELLAIRS” 94
SIDE-LIGHT AND COMMENTARY ON “SWEET KITTY” 103
A STRENUOUS YEAR 109
WARFIELD IN “THE MUSIC MASTER.”--AN ANIMATED
SPEECH 111
CONCERNING WARFIELD, JEFFERSON, THE ELDER
SOTHERN AND THE “ONE PART” CUSTOM.--AN
AMAZING RECORD 120
A SHEAF OF OLD LETTERS: IN THE MATTER OF THE
THEATRICAL SYNDICATE 126
METHODS OF COLLABORATION 132
MRS. CARTER AND THE TRAGEDY OF “ADREA” 136
BELASCO AND THE THEATRICAL SYNDICATE
JUSTICE AND THEATRICAL ACHIEVEMENT 150
BELASCO’S UNIQUE SERVICE TO THE THEATRE 151
WHAT ARE WE DISCUSSING? 153
THE SYNDICATE-INCUBUS DEFINED 154
SPECIOUS PRETENSIONS TO JUSTIFY THE INCUBUS 155
TENDENCY TO COMBINATION IN MODERN BUSINESS 157
CAUSES OF THEATRICAL PROGRESS 158
THE RIGHT PRINCIPLE 161
THE OBLIGATION OF INTELLECT 162
“THOSE SHALL TAKE WHO HAVE THE POWER” 167
DIVERGENT VIEWS OF THE SYNDICATE: GROUNDS
FOR REASONABLE BELIEF 170
CONVERTING CONVENTION HALL:--“ADREA” IN
WASHINGTON 177
EXIT MRS. CARTER 184
SIGNIFICANT MESSAGES 186
VARIOUS LETTERS AND INCIDENTS OF 1905 188
TRIBUTE TO IRVING 194
BLANCHE BATES AND “THE GIRL OF THE GOLDEN
WEST” 195
A THRILLING STORY--AND A TRUE ONE 200
A MASTERPIECE OF STAGECRAFT: THE STORM IN
“THE GIRL OF THE GOLDEN WEST” 203
THE PARTING OF BLANCHE BATES AND BELASCO.--“THE
FIGHTING HOPE” AND “NOBODY’S WIDOW” 206
A GREAT NIGHT.--BELASCO AT THE METROPOLITAN.--A
GENEROUS ACKNOWLEDGMENT 211
BELASCO AND THE MESSRS. SHUBERT 216
THE ADVENT OF FRANCES STARR.--BELASCO’S “THE
ROSE OF THE RANCHO” 219
A NEW PROJECT:--THE SECOND BELASCO THEATRE 232
IN THE MATTER OF STAGE LIGHTING 242
OPENING OF BELASCO’S STUYVESANT THEATRE:--“A
GRAND ARMY MAN” 247
A DEFEATED PLAN: “THE PASSING OF THE THIRD
FLOOR BACK” 255
“THE WARRENS OF VIRGINIA” 258
“THE EASIEST WAY” 265
“WESTWARD, HO!”--THE SYNDICATE SURRENDERS.--INCIDENTS
OF 1909 269
THE SEASON OF 1909-’10: “IS MATRIMONY A FAILURE?”--“THE
LILY”--AND “JUST A WIFE” 279
A CHANGE OF NAMES.--THE FARCE OF “THE CONCERT” 287
LOSS AND GRIEF.--“NO MAN BEARS SORROW
BETTER” 293
A DRAMA OF SPIRITUALISM 298
BELASCO’S “THE RETURN OF PETER GRIMM” 299
CONCERNING THE EUNUCHS OF CRITICASTERISM 304
“THE WOMAN”--AND MR. ABRAHAM GOLDKNOPF 306
BELASCO AND PLAGIARISM
“FOLLY LOVES THE MARTYRDOM OF FAME” 310
“THE TRICK APPLIED” 312
AN ANCIENT USAGE 313
CHARLES READE ON PLAGIARISM 315
“FOR THE DEFENDANT” 318
CONCERNING BENEFITS--REMEMBERED AND FORGOT 324
THE DRAMATIC WORKS OF DAVID BELASCO
JUVENILE EFFORTS 327
WRITTEN BEFORE 1882-’83 (BELASCO’S NEW
YORK CAREER BEGAN IN SEPTEMBER, 1882) 328
WRITTEN SUBSEQUENT TO 1882-’83 329
PLAYS AS YET UNACTED 332
BELASCO AS A DRAMATIST:--A FRAGMENT 332
THE GOLDKNOPF TRIAL--A UNIQUE DEMONSTRATION 336
A DRAMA OF PSYCHOLOGY:--“THE CASE OF BECKY” 343
“A GOOD LITTLE DEVIL” 348
“THE SECRET” 350
“MARIE-ODILE” 356
RECONCILIATION WITH CHARLES FROHMAN--AND
JOINT PRESENTMENT OF “A CELEBRATED
CASE” 361
LENORE ULRIC.--AND “THE HEART OF WETONA” 366
VARIOUS PRODUCTIONS--MISCELLANEOUS RECORD:
“WHAT’S WRONG.”--“THE VANISHING BRIDE.”--“THE
LOVE THOUGHT.”--“ALIAS.” 373
“THE GOVERNOR’S LADY” 377
“YEARS OF DISCRETION” 381
“THE TEMPERAMENTAL JOURNEY” 386
A REVIVAL OF THE “AUCTIONEER” 386
A MANIAC’S PLAY--“THE MAN INSIDE” 387
BELASCO IN CHINATOWN 394
AN ADMONITION TO STAGE ASPIRANTS 398
“THE PHANTOM RIVAL” 402
“THE BOOMERANG” 406
“SEVEN CHANCES” 411
“THE LITTLE LADY IN BLUE.”--THE LAST
PLAY EVER SEEN BY WILLIAM WINTER 413
“THE VERY MINUTE”--A MEMORANDUM 416
SUMMARY 418
A GREAT SHAKESPEAREAN PROJECT 441
CONCERNING SARAH BERNHARDT 448
BRIEF EXTRACTS FROM MISCELLANEOUS CORRESPONDENCE 452
APPENDIX (BY J. W.)
“VAN DER DECKEN” 459
“POLLY WITH A PAST” 462
“TIGER ROSE” 465
CHRONOLOGY OF THE LIFE OF DAVID BELASCO
(W. W.) 473
INDEX 543
ILLUSTRATIONS.
VOLUME TWO.
_In Photogravure._
David Belasco Frontispiece
PAGE
David Belasco, About 1885 16
David Warfield 26
Mrs. Leslie Carter as _Du Barry_ 42
David Belasco 60
Blanche Bates as _Yo-San_, in “The Darling of the
Gods” 76
David Belasco, About 1889-’90 90
David Belasco 136
Frances Starr 224
Augusta Belasco, Mrs. William Elliott 298
Reina Belasco, Mrs. Morris Gest 300
David Belasco 320
David Belasco 336
David Belasco 418
_In Halftone._
Blanche Bates as _Cigarette_, in “Under Two Flags” 2
A Scene from Belasco’s “Under Two Flags” 6
David Warfield as _Simon Levi_, in “The Auctioneer” 12
Mrs. Leslie Carter as _Du Barry_ 34
Charles A. Stevenson as _King Louis the Fifteenth_, in
Belasco’s “Du Barry” 40
Belasco, About 1902 46
Belasco’s “Studio” in the First Belasco Theatre 54
Belasco in His Studio at the First Belasco Theatre 58
A Scene from “The Darling of the Gods” 72
George Arliss as _Zakkuri, the Minister of War_, in
“The Darling of the Gods” 82
Henrietta Crosman as _Mistress Kitty Bellairs_, in
“Sweet Kitty Bellairs” 100
David Warfield as _Herr Anton von Barwig_, in “The
Music Master” 114
Scene in Front of the Belasco Theatre, Pittsburgh, Pa. 126
Belasco’s “Adrea” Curtains 150
The Members of the Theatrical Syndicate 168
The Crowning Room,--Belasco’s Production of “Adrea” 178
Mrs. Leslie Carter as _Adrea_, in the Tragedy of that
Name 186
Henry Irving in the Last Year of His Life--1904-’05 194
Blanche Bates as _The Girl_, in “The Girl of the
Golden West” 198
To David Belasco 212
In Remembrance 214
The Opera of “The Girl of the Golden West”--A
Souvenir, to Belasco 218
Frances Starr as _Jaunita_, in “The Rose of the
Rancho” 232
Belasco in His Workshop 238
Switchboard of the Second Belasco Theatre, New
York 246
David Warfield as _Wes’ Bigelow_, in “A Grand Army
Man” 254
Charlotte Walker as _Agatha Warren_, in “The Warrens
of Virginia” 264
David Belasco and His Father, Humphrey Abraham
Belasco, in San Francisco, February, 1909--Their
Last Meeting 272
Nance O’Neil as _Odette De Maigny_ and Julia Dean
(the Younger) as _Christine De Maigny_, in “The
Lily” 282
Belasco, About 1911 286
Leo Ditrichstein as _Gabor Arany_ and Janet Beecher
as _Helen, Mrs. Arany_, in “The Concert” 290
“Oft in the Still Night” 294
David Warfield as _Peter Grimm_, in “The Return of
Peter Grimm” 304
“The Student”--David Belasco 312
David Belasco 328
Frances Starr as _Becky_, in “The Case of Becky” 344
Belasco, About 1914 352
Frances Starr as _Marie-Odile_ 360
Lenore Ulric as _Wetona_, in “The Heart of Wetona” 372
Belasco at Orienta Point--Summer Home of His
Daughter, Mrs. Gest 428
Benjamin F. Roeder, Belasco’s General Business
Manager 438
Sarah Bernhardt 450
David Warfield as _Van Der Decken_ 456
Ina Claire as _Polly Shannon_, in “Polly With a Past” 460
Lenore Ulric as _Rose_, in “Tiger Rose” 466
David Belasco--His Latest Portrait, 1918 470
Belasco Leading the Parade of “The Lambs” up
Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington, D. C. 476
“_To him the laurels and the lyre belong:_
_He won them well, and may he wear them long!_”
THE LIFE OF DAVID BELASCO
“UNDER TWO FLAGS.”--BLANCHE BATES THE RISING STAR.
The London engagement of “Zaza” ended, Belasco, Mrs. Carter, and the
members of the “Zaza” company returned to America, sailing from
Southampton, on board the steamship New York, August 18, 1900. Mrs.
Carter’s tour in that play began at the Criterion Theatre, New York, on
October 1, and Belasco turned his attention to launching Blanche Bates
as a star. The histrionic vehicle which he selected for this purpose was
a revamped dramatization of Ouida’s “Under Two Flags.” He had hoped to
obtain a drama on a fresh subject for her use and he had asked Charles
Frohman to assist in finding such a one. But, after waiting a
considerable time without any suitable play coming to light and it being
essential to bring her forward in something, Belasco determined to turn
to an old subject and revivify it. “I decided, in desperation,” he
writes, “to revive ‘Under Two Flags,’ which I had long been familiar
with, of which I had made at least two versions, and which, in the old
days, I had directed for Lotta. Her version of it, however, seemed very
old-fashioned, and I employed Mr. Paul M. Potter to make a new
adaptation of the book. I introduced a novel effect in that production
in the sand-storm in the Fourth Act; it was simple in its mechanism, but
it required much work to perfect it: it has since come into general
use.”
Ouida’s novel is so well known to the public of the Library and, in one
form or another, histrionic adaptations of it are so well known to the
public of the Theatre, that the subject is, in every point of view,
familiar, and minutely detailed consideration of it in this place would,
therefore, be superfluous. The new theatrical epitome of that novel was
made known, for the first time, at the Garden Theatre, New York,
February 5, 1901. It was, in every detail, supervised and made practical
by Belasco, and it owed its success to his ingenious and expert
manipulation and to the embodiment of _Cigarette_ given in it under his
direction by Miss Bates. The story of that ardent, picturesque,
adventurous girl is a story of amatory infatuation, brave exploits, and
pathetic self-sacrifice, under romantic circumstances. The
representative of _Cigarette_ must be handsome, passionate, expeditious,
magnanimous, resolute, full of resource, sparkling with energy,
[Illustration:
Photograph by Sarony. Collection of Jefferson Winter.
BLANCHE BATES AS _CIGARETTE_, IN “UNDER TWO FLAGS”]
potent in fiery conflicts of feeling, and, above all, capable of
covering grief with a smile. That is the essence of her character.
Blanche Bates, possessing rare personal distinction and a temperament
equally attuned to the extreme moods of mirth and grief, was easily
proficient in the assumption of that personality and in the pictorial
and effective exposition of it. Without the presence of that actress the
play (if it had ever been produced at all) would have passed as a
populous, tumultuous stage pageant,--a spectacle of Moorish scenery and
military bustle. Animated by her power, sensibility, and spirited,
various, incessant action, it was lifted to dramatic importance and
Belasco’s “desperate” venture--as he calls it--proved brilliantly
successful.
The employment of _Cigarette_ is the salvation from various dangers of
_Bertie Cecil_, a man whom she loves and whose love is bestowed on
another woman, and her diligence in that employment is attended by risk
and rewarded by ruin. Many persons appear to think that it is beatific
to be loved by other persons and grievous not to be loved, and,
accordingly, love-tales exemplary of the joy, on the one hand, and the
sorrow, on the other, that are sequent from those antipodal conditions
of experience are perennially popular. _Pygmalion_ worships a stone;
_Titania_ caresses the ears of an ass, and the populace is thrilled.
_Cigarette’s_ passion for _Bertie Cecil_ is of the old, familiar kind,
and, the scene being Algeria, her adventures are, theatrically, shown
across a background of singular beauty,--because that country is
remarkable for flowers, cedar forests, Oriental palms, Roman remains,
stony deserts contrasted with smiling villages, and luxuriant gardens
not distant from mountains covered with snow.
Taste, thought, ingenuity, and sedulous care were expended on every
feature of the pageant by Belasco, and the result was a magnificent
spectacle,--one of the richest and most impressive ever seen on our
Stage. Had it been brought here by Henry Irving or Herbert
Beerbohm-Tree, it would have been hailed as a transcendent exploit in
stagecraft. Every scene was a picture, every picture was harmonious with
the phase of the story to be illustrated, and in the transitions from
the luxurious villa, with its prospect of the tranquil ocean faintly
rippling beneath the moon, to the desolate, rocky, weird, and ominous
mountain gorge a climax of solemn grandeur seemed to take shape, color,
and charm, slowly rising out of a dream of romantic beauty. The drift of
whirling mist over the darkening waves of sand on the bleak seacoast
would have seemed the most consummate of illusions had it not been
excelled by the blinding terrors of a mountain tempest. Those effects
were wrought by simple means, but they were not less splendid because of
the simplicity of their management.
The _dramatic_ victory was not won, however, by either the pageantry or
the play. Mr. Potter’s variant version of “Under Two Flags” is hackneyed
in expedients, abrupt in movement, drastic in method, coarse in
character, shady in morals, florid in style, and it was made silly, in
some of the colloquies, by the infusion of contemporary slang and
reference. The listener heard of “rot” and also of “the
Klondike,”--unknown in the period of the story. But the old novel had
been made to yield telling situations, and the strong and splendid
acting of Miss Bates vitalized them, brilliantly animated the whole
structure, and vindicated Belasco’s faith in the ability of the actress.
The revelation of jealousy working in an unsophisticated, half-savage
nature, the elemental passion expressed in the fantastic dance, the
prayer of the breaking heart for her lover’s fidelity, the supplication
for his pardon, the agony when repulsed, the ecstasy when triumphant,
the tremendous conflict of emotions in the wild ride for rescue,--they
were all displayed with more of human nature and more of a competent
artist’s power to control feelings and to shape the effect of situation
than had been seen on our Stage for many a long day.--This was the
original cast of “Under Two Flags” at the Garden Theatre:
_Bertie Cecil_ Francis Carlyle.
_John_ Maclyn Arbuckle.
_Rake_ Edward S. Abeles.
_Countess of Westminster_ Rose Snyder.
_Venetia Lyonnesse_ Margaret Robinson.
_Marquis of Chateauroy_ Campbell Gollan.
_Lord Constantia_ Arthur Bruce.
_Pierre Baroni_ Albert Bruning.
_Renée Baroni_ Grace Elliston.
_General Lamoricière_ Matt. Snyder.
_Paul Lamoricière_ Madge West.
_Captain de Chanrellon_ Beresford Webb.
_En-ta-Maboull_ Frank Leyden.
_Beau Bruno_ Tefft Johnson.
_Amineh_ Mrs. F. M. Bates.
_Cigarette_ Blanche Bates.
BELASCO AND DAVID WARFIELD:--THEIR FIRST MEETING.
“Under Two Flags” was acted at the Garden Theatre until June 3, 1901,
when that house was closed for the season and Belasco turned his
attention to preparations for the appearance of Mrs. Carter in a new
play and for the bringing forward of David Warfield as a star in the
legitimate
[Illustration:
Photograph by Byron. Author’s Collection.
A SCENE IN BELASCO’S “UNDER TWO FLAGS”]
Theatre. That actor, then a popular variety hall performer and a member
of the burlesque and travesty company maintained by Messrs. Weber &
Fields at their theatre in New York,--in Broadway, between Twenty-ninth
and Thirtieth streets,--had negotiated with Belasco, about
August-September, 1900, relative to acting under his management and on
November 2, that year, they entered into a formal agreement whereby
Belasco undertook the direction of Warfield’s professional career. Their
contract was made to cover a first period of three years: it provided
that Warfield should be presented as a star, beginning about September
or October, 1901, and that he should be paid a weekly salary of $300 and
should receive, further, 20 per cent. of the net profits of his
professional exploitation during the first year, 25 per cent. during the
second year, 30 per cent. during the third year, and 50 per cent.
thereafter, if the contract should be renewed. This engagement also
expressly required Belasco “personally to supervise the performances to
be given” by Warfield as well as to provide a play for him to act in.
The professional alliance thus begun between Belasco and Warfield has
proved, for both parties to it, one of the most fortunate ever made in
the Theatre. The personal friendship between them began many years
earlier: Belasco has given the following glimpse of its beginning:
“There was an usher at the Bush Street Theatre--a bright little
fellow with a most luminous smile. He is still small, and his smile
is still luminous. I did not then know his name, but I had heard
that among his family and friends he was quite an entertainer,
being able to sing, to mimic and to recite. One day I was at home,
in my front room on the top floor, when I heard a voice in the
street below. I leaned out, and there on the corner, standing on a
box which scarcely raised him above the gaping onlookers, was the
little usher from the Bush Street Theatre, reciting to a curious
crowd. I went down and stood near until he had finished. Then I
went up to him and asked him his name. ‘Dave Warfield,’ said he,
giving me the smile that lived long afterwards in _Herr von
Barwig_, during all the rehearsals of ‘The Music Master,’ and that
was our first meeting.”
David Warfield was born in San Francisco on November 28, 1866. He began
theatrical life as a programme boy, in the Standard Theatre of that
city. Later he became an usher in the Bush Street Theatre there. His
first professional appearance was made as a member of a travelling
theatrical company at Napa, California, in 1888, as the specious,
rascally Jew, _Melter Moss_, in “The Ticket-of-Leave Man.” That company
was disbanded at the end of one week, and thereafter Warfield appeared
at several San Francisco variety halls, and in a piece called “About
Town,” and gave imitations of actors whom he had seen,--among them
Tommaso Salvini and Sarah Bernhardt,--and of “types” that he had
observed in the streets of his native city. In 1890 he removed to New
York and obtained professional employment, for a short time, in Paine’s
Concert Hall, in Eighth Avenue. His next engagement was to act _Hiram
Joskins_, in a play called “The Inspector,” produced by Mr. William A.
Brady: that employment lasted two months. In March, 1891, he performed
as _Honora_, in “O’Dowd’s Neighbors,” in a company led by Mark Murphy.
In the season of 1891-’92 he acted with Russell’s Comedians, under the
management of John H. Russell, appearing as _John Smith_, in “The City
Directory.” In 1892-’93 he was seen as _Washington Littlehales_, in “A
Nutmeg Match.” In September, 1895, he became associated with the New
York Casino Theatre, where he remained for three years, acting in “About
Town,” “The Merry Whirl,” “In Gay New York,” and “The Belle of New
York,”--pieces which are correctly described as medleys of tinkling
music and nonsense. In those “entertainments,” frivolous and often
vulgar, Warfield presented several variations of substantially the same
identity,--an expert semblance of the New York East Side Jew. In 1898 he
joined the company of Messrs. Weber & Fields, and at their theatre,
where he remained for three seasons, he appeared in various rough and
commonplace travesties of contemporary theatrical successes, generally
presenting, in different lights, his photographic copy of the
huckstering, acquisitive, pusillanimous Jew of low life. One notable
variation of that type was his assumption of _The Old Man_, in a
burlesque of the offensive play of “Catherine.” Among the salient
characteristics of his acting, in whatever parts he played, were
fidelity to minute detail of appearance and demeanor and consistent and
continuous preservation of the spirit of burlesque,--a spirit which
combines imperturbable gravity of aspect with apparently profound
sincerity in preposterous situations and while delivering extravagant,
ludicrous speeches. True burlesque acting is a fine art and admirable as
such, and Warfield was heartily approved in that field; but at the time
when Belasco undertook to make him a star in the regular Theatre nobody,
I believe, except the shrewd and prescient manager,--not even
Warfield,--foresaw that within a few years he would have become one of
the most popular serio-comic actors of the modern American Stage.
WARFIELD AND “THE AUCTIONEER.”
The play in which Belasco elected to launch Warfield was entitled “The
Auctioneer.” He had, at first, intended to write this play himself,
calling it “The Only Levi.” But his time and energy were so preoccupied
by labor in connection with the establishment of Miss Bates and the
direction of Mrs. Carter’s career that he was unable to do so. He,
therefore, employed a playwright known as Lee Arthur (Arthur Lee Kahn)
to take his ideas and suggestions and weld them into dramatic form. The
fabric which Arthur, in fulfilment of this employment, delivered to him
was so wholly unfit for use (“an impossible thing, unworthy of
production,” Belasco designated it) that he subsequently engaged the
late Charles Klein to rewrite it in collaboration with Arthur, and,
finally, was compelled himself to rehash and partly rectify it during
rehearsals and early performances. It was first acted at the Hyperion
Theatre, New Haven, Connecticut, September 9, 1901. Warfield, testifying
on the subject in court, several years later, made a statement,--which,
surely, may be accepted as authoritative,--regarding this piece, as
originally produced, which is terse and informing: “When we began to
rehearse,” he said, “we had a book filled with words. The play was a
frost. _It was the biggest failure you ever heard of_, the opening
night.... Mr. Belasco worked day and night upon the reconstruction of
that play, from the time that he started with the rehearsals the week
before we left New York [preliminary rehearsals had been conducted by
Messrs. Klein and Arthur] until we came to New York and played, three
weeks later.” The first performance of “The Auctioneer” in the
metropolis occurred September 23, at the old Bijou Theatre, in Broadway,
between Thirtieth and Thirty-first streets. The piece, as then made
known, is a superficial, insubstantial one, which, however, contrives to
illustrate some vicissitudes of fortune, and, in the main part,
exemplifies the idea of a right philosophy in bearing them. That main
part is a Jewish auctioneer, named _Simon Levi_, resident in Baxter
Street, New York, and conducting an auction-room in the Five Points
region. _Levi_, having inherited a modest but competent fortune,
purchases a residence in a fashionable part of the city and invests the
balance of his money in a Trust Company. Then, at a festival in
celebration of the betrothal of his adopted daughter, a girl named
_Helga_, he is apprized that his stock certificates in the Trust Company
are bogus and that _Richard Eagan_, the affianced husband of
[Illustration:
Photograph by Pach. Belasco’s Collection.
DAVID WARFIELD AS _SIMON LEVI_, IN “THE AUCTIONEER”]
_Helga_, for whom he has bought a partnership in a Wall Street brokerage
firm, is to be arrested, charged with fraud in issuing them. Forced,
with his dearly loved and cherished wife, to leave his new home in
ignominious circumstances, _Levi_, though feeble in body and hurt in
spirit, bravely begins anew the strife of living,--peddling toys in the
streets. He discovers, ultimately, that the actual swindler who has
ruined him is one _Groode_, the partner of his prospective son-in-law,
from whom he recovers his wealth, delivering the culprit up to justice
and relieving the distress of his own loved ones. This story,
notwithstanding Belasco’s strenuous labor, lost little of its trite
conventionality in its histrionic relation; but his capital stage
management and the highly meritorious performance given by Warfield
under his direction made of a flimsy, trivial play a notable and
substantial success.
It was a shrewd device, when inducting Warfield into the regular
Theatre, to do so not abruptly, but, as it were, by gentle
actuation,--to provide for his first essay a character which was little
more than an elaboration of his Jewish “specialty,” in which his early
success had been gained, with an element of pathetic experience and
feeling superadded to it. “I had been watching Warfield for years,” said
Belasco, “and I felt sure that, if he would only study, I could make a
great character [_sic_--meaning “eccentric”] actor of him; I told him
so, and when I thought he was ready I engaged him.” While I cannot
altogether agree with Belasco in his opinion, often and warmly declared,
that David Warfield is “a unique and great actor,”--not, that is, in the
same sense that, for example, Henry Placide, William Warren, Joseph
Jefferson and John Hare were great actors,--there is no question of his
rare and fine talent nor of his steady growth in artistic stature. He
has revealed in his acting an engaging personality, a genial
disposition, a gentle manner, quick sympathy with right ideals, and
capability of fervid emotion and simple pathos. Of all the many players,
male and female, whom Belasco has guided and helped to develop none, in
my judgment, owes more to his fostering care and assistance than
Warfield does: it is extremely probable that, without Belasco’s aid, he
would have remained to the end of his career a denizen of the
music-halls, instead of becoming, as he has become, one of the most
loved and admired actors of our Stage. As _Simon Levi_ he presented a
genuine, consistent impersonation in the vein of eccentric low comedy,
at places touched with tender feeling and momentarily irradiated with
pathos. His assumption of the physical attributes of this particular
Jew of low life,--the sallow complexion; the thin, wiry hair; the
splayfooted, shambling gait; the voluble gestures, the singular dialect;
the manner, now aggressive, now fawning,--was quite perfect; but his
significant achievement was his success in denoting a steadfast,
affectionate, patient nature beneath the mean outside of a petty
huckster subjected to cruel disappointment and hardship.--This was the
original cast of “The Auctioneer”:
_Simon Levi_ David Warfield.
_Mrs. Levi._ Maria Davis.
_Mrs. Eagan._ Marie Bates.
_Callahan._ Odell Williams.
_Jacob Sampson._ Harry Rodgers.
_Richard Eagan._ Brandon Tynan.
_Mo Fininski._ Eugene Canfield.
_Minnie._ Nellie Lynch.
_Groode._ William Boag.
_Mrs. Sampson._ Helena Phillips.
_Helga._ Maude Winter.
_Dawkins._ Horace James.
_Critch._ H. S. Millward.
_Miss Manning._ Nina Lyn.
_Miss Crompton._ Elizabeth Berkeley.
_Miss Finch._ Corah Adams.
_Zeke._ Cyril Vezina.
_Mandy._ Ruth Dennis.
_Policeman._ Harry Rawlins.
_Chestnut Vender._ Richard Bevan.
IN THE GRIP OF THE OCTOPUS.--ANCIENT METHODS IN MODERN BUSINESS.
“The Auctioneer” played at the Bijou Theatre until December 21,--105
consecutive performances being given there. On December 23 Warfield
began a “road tour” in that play which lasted for twenty weeks, ending
at the Illinois Theatre, Chicago, May 10, 1902. The net profit from this
tour was $80,000,--certainly an amazing sum to be gained by presentation
in the regular Theatre of an unknown star, fresh from the music halls,
who, all told, had appeared in perhaps a score of productions! But
Belasco’s actual profit from the fruits of his perspicacious judgment
and enterprise was far less than that great sum. The reason of this
seemingly strange fact is that in his professional exploitation of
Warfield he had fallen into the ruthless grip of an iniquitous
“booking-monopoly” which, practically, dominated for many years what are
known as “the first-class theatres” of America and which is still
perniciously active. Belasco’s conflict with that monopoly was long and
bitter; thousands of columns have been devoted to it in the newspaper
press of the country, and it has, at various times, occupied a prominent
place in public attention. That conflict grew directly out
[Illustration: DAVID BELASCO
About 1885
Photograph by Falk.
Belasco’s Collection.
]
of his undertaking the management of Warfield. Several actions at law
have been incident to it. Testifying under oath in one of them, in 1905,
Belasco gave an account of his experience in relation to “The
Auctioneer” which I believe to be true in all essentials and of which I
make the following abstract and brief chronicle:
After Belasco had undertaken to bring forward Warfield as a star he
applied to Mr. Abraham Lincoln Erlanger, junior member of the firm of
Klaw & Erlanger, theatrical managers and booking agents (i.e., “agents”
who arbitrarily arranged tours by theatrical companies through American
cities), for the purpose of making advantageous arrangements for
Warfield to appear in New York and other cities. He applied to Mr.
Erlanger because he was aware that it was, at the time, practically
speaking, impossible for him to make such arrangements, except through
the firm of Klaw & Erlanger, and that the junior member attended to such
business for that firm. He called on Mr. Erlanger at his residence, No.
262 West Seventieth Street, New York, on Sunday, December 9, 1900, and
stated his wish. Mr. Erlanger, in response, stated that “We [K. & E.]
are not in this business for our health” and inquired “Where do we [K. &
E.] come in?” Belasco replied that Klaw & Erlanger would receive their
customary commission, $300 to $400, for “booking” the play. To this Mr.
Erlanger rejoined “Hell, about that: we got to get something more.”
Belasco, after protesting that he was not, in any way, soliciting a
favor; that he assumed all risk and liability in the venture, and that
he felt it to be “a sort of blackmail” (and a very obvious sort, I
should say!) to exact from him a share in whatever gains might accrue to
him from presentation of Warfield, offered to surrender to Klaw &
Erlanger 20 per cent. of such gains, in return for “a route.” This
offer, swore Belasco, Mr. Erlanger rejected, demanding that, instead he
(his firm) should receive _50_ per cent. of any profits from the
exploitation of Warfield. To Belasco’s inquiry as to why he should
receive this unearned remuneration Mr. Erlanger rejoined “None of your
damn’ business; I want half, and _if I don’t get half_ out of Warfield
_you can’t have a route for him_. I will crush you out; sit upon you;
jump upon you, and push you out; _crush you out of this theatrical
business_!” He further admonished Belasco thus: “Understand me, Belasco;
hereafter, I want 50 per cent. of every damn’ thing you do!” Belasco,
after taking several days to consider this extortionate proposal,
decided that he could not avoid accepting it, if he was successfully to
present Warfield. He went, in company with his business manager,
Benjamin F. Roeder, to Mr. Erlanger’s office and there communicated his
decision to him, saying: “Mr. Erlanger, I can’t see any escape for me. I
want it understood that you are _compelling_ me to give up 50 per cent.
I don’t think it is right, but, if you insist, there is nothing else for
me to do.” The agreement was then made, the late Joseph Brooks, an
associate of Klaw & Erlanger, being put forward, according to Belasco’s
testimony, as a “dummy” in the written contract, in order that the
partnership of Klaw & Erlanger might be concealed from their partners in
the Theatrical Syndicate,--Messrs. Charles Frohman, Al. Hayman, Samuel
F. Nirdlinger (known as S. F. Nixon) and J. Fred. Zimmermann,--this
concealment being desired in order that Klaw & Erlanger, as booking
agents, might be able to exact more profitable terms from their
Syndicate partners than would be possible if that firm were generally
known to possess “an interest” in the presentation of Warfield in “The
Auctioneer.” Belasco, to substantiate his assertion that, actually, he
was in partnership with Klaw & Erlanger, not with Brooks, in the said
presentation, produced a number of paid cheques drawn to the order of
that firm, to a total amount of more than $30,000,--which, he swore,
represented its 50 per cent. of profits from “The Auctioneer” during
the period while that play was “booked” by Klaw & Erlanger,--a period
which, from the record, seems to have ended on January 31, 1902, at
Duluth, Minnesota. Brooks, by way of explaining those cheques, testified
that he had directed Belasco’s business agent, Roeder, to make them
payable to the order of Klaw & Erlanger because he, Brooks, was
frequently absent from New York! Brooks _admitted_ that he “made them
[Klaw & Erlanger] a present of” two-thirds of the half-interest in
presentation of “The Auctioneer” which he asserted was his.
TESTIMONY UNDER OATH:--BELASCO _VERSUS_ ERLANGER.
If we accept Belasco’s sworn testimony as true, then it must appear that
in the matter of arranging a tour for Warfield in “The Auctioneer” he
was the victim of as brazen and shameful an instance of blackmail as has
ever been perpetrated. It must, however, in justice be specified that
Mr. Erlanger, also testifying under oath, _flatly denied every material
statement_ made by Belasco bearing on this matter: the effect of Mr.
Erlanger’s sworn testimony, if it be accepted as true, must be to
exhibit Belasco as a villain and a liar. The eminent lawyer Samuel
Untermyer, Esq., who appeared for Belasco in the legal actions from the
records of which this conflictive testimony is cited, seems to have been
strongly impressed by its mutually exclusive nature: in reading certain
affidavits in the cases he remarked that they were “so contradictory
that they reveal a most flagrant and rank perjury on one side or the
other.” But every man’s testimony should receive the degree of respect
and credence to which his known character and reputation entitle it. I
have known Belasco for more than thirty years and, though he is (as I
know and in this Memoir have shown) often inaccurate and heedless in
regard to chronologic sequence, I know him to be trustworthy as to
substance in the statement of material facts; in short, _his_ known
character and reputation are good. Erlanger, on the contrary, is a
person whose public record, as known to me, is wholly consistent with
Belasco’s account of his conduct,--a cowardly, hectoring bully, of
violent temper and unsavory repute. Apart from this, since Erlanger has
testified relative to certain affidavits made by him “The things I
_swear_ to I only _look at casually_” (!!!) I see no reason to believe
that the things he “swears to,” derogatory of others, are worthy of any
respect or credence. It would be pleasant to me to avoid any mention of
this person, his character and proceedings; but it is impossible to do
so when writing an authentic account of the life of Belasco or of the
American Stage since about 1896. “He [Erlanger],” Belasco has declared,
“told me that if I refused his terms he would compel me to go into the
streets and blacken my face to earn a living. He said that I spoiled the
public instead of compelling them to take what the Trust chose to give,
and that a man with ideals in the theatrical business wound up with a
benefit within three years.” There is, therefore, I believe, ample
ground for the feeling toward and opinion about Erlanger which Belasco
expressed in his testimony: “I detest the man and his methods. I detest
him to-day. I think he is the most abhorred man in the country, because
he strikes hard bargains, and he makes people give up more than any
other man in the country.”--The suits at law referred to in the
foregoing passage (suits brought by Joseph Brooks against David Belasco
and David Belasco Company, and by David Belasco Company against Marc
Klaw, Abraham L. Erlanger and Joseph Brooks, the purposes of which were
to establish whether Belasco and Brooks or Belasco and Klaw & Erlanger
were partners in the presentation of David Warfield in “The Auctioneer”
and to secure an accounting under the partnership agreement) were tried
before the Hon. James J. Fitzgerald, J., sitting in equity, at Special
Session of Part V., Supreme Court, State of New York, April 6 to 26,
1905. The decision and judgment were against Belasco, and his case was
carried on appeal to the Appellate Division, First Department, of the
Supreme Court, April 20, 1906.
LAW _VERSUS_ JUSTICE.
That adverse decision and judgment were based on a technicality,--on a
point of law, not on a point of fact. The learned Justice who rendered
decision and pronounced judgment did not find that Belasco had failed to
prove his contention that, actually, he was in partnership with Klaw &
Erlanger, not with Brooks, in presentation of “The Auctioneer.” He found
that “parol evidence” could not be held to alter the effect of a written
and sealed instrument of engagement. “The rule,” he declared, “allowing
parol _proof_ of an undisclosed principal _is limited to simple
contracts_, for if the agreement be _a sealed_ one, _only the parties
thereto subscribing_ can be held bound.” The question of prime public
interest in this case (and it _is_ of prime public interest, because
the veracity, reputation and standing of one of the most eminent and
influential men in our Theatre are affected by it) is not whether
Belasco could, in law, under a strict rule of evidence, _enforce_
against Klaw & Erlanger the contract actually signed by Brooks: the
question is whether or not that contract was, _in fact_, signed by
Brooks as “a man of straw” for Klaw & Erlanger, and by Belasco under
duress. I cannot conceive that any intelligent and judicious person
could read the testimony adduced and reach any other conclusion but that
Belasco had proved his allegations as to fact. And it seems clear to me
that the learned Justice must have felt satisfied that Belasco had
proved his case, _as to fact_,--otherwise he would not have been at such
pains to argue _in extenso_ the _incompetency_ of such _proof_ under the
rule.
A FAITHFUL FRIEND:--WARFIELD FOR BELASCO. THE END OF “THE AUCTIONEER.”
Warfield’s second season in “The Auctioneer” began, September 8, 1902,
at the Hollis Street Theatre, Boston, and lasted for 39 weeks,--closing
at the Victoria Theatre, New York, May 30, 1903. 315 performances were
given and the net profits were $70,000. His third season began at the
Harlem Opera House, New York, September 28. It was in December, 1903,
that Brooks applied to Judge David Leventritt for a receiver for “The
Auctioneer.” Warfield, then acting in New Orleans, being apprised of
this application, declared that he would “not play under the management
of Klaw & Erlanger’s representative, a receiver, or any one but David
Belasco.” That declaration, being published in the newspaper press, was
construed by Judge Leventritt as an attempt on the part of Warfield to
coerce the court in the matter of appointing a receiver and,--remarking
that if it had not been for what he deemed to be an attempt at coercion
he would have been inclined to appoint Belasco as the receiver,--he
named W. M. K. Olcott. Warfield thereupon refused to continue acting,
his tour was summarily closed, January 10, 1904,--two weeks’ salary
being paid by Belasco to the members of the company, in lieu of
notice,--and Warfield returned to New York. Before leaving New Orleans
he published this statement:
“When I stated I would not play under the management of any one but
Mr. Belasco, I meant just what I said. It was not a threat--simply
expression of my honest conviction as to what was just and due to
the man who has made me a successful star. ‘The Auctioneer’ was Mr.
Belasco’s own investment, every penny of it. It was he who
conceived the idea of starring me in a play of this character.
From this man Brooks I have received nothing, nor have I from Klaw
& Erlanger, who are Mr. Belasco’s partners in ‘The Auctioneer.’ The
manner in which they became partners will be shown and proved when
this case comes into court for trial. They refused to give Mr.
Belasco bookings until he had surrendered 50 per cent. of the
concern. I was an unmade star then, and Mr. Belasco was not in the
position of power which he holds to-day. We had to divide. But of
the profits which Klaw & Erlanger have made from the managers with
whom they have booked the attraction, neither Mr. Belasco nor I
have received one penny from our partners. As for Brooks, he has
never had even carfare, unless Klaw & Erlanger have been more
liberal to him than to us.
“The trouble and annoyance which this whole affair has caused me
have made me ill. But, sick or well, I absolutely refuse to play in
‘The Auctioneer’ for any one but my own manager, Mr. David Belasco.
I defy Mr. Erlanger to deny that he and Mr. Klaw, and not Mr.
Brooks, are the real partners of Mr. Belasco in my tour. He told me
so with his own lips, when the New Amsterdam Theatre was building
last summer. He asked me to come and see how the foundations were
getting on. And when I funked, before crossing a rather rickety
looking plank, he said ‘I won’t let you get hurt, old man.
Remember, I own 50 per cent. of you.’ When Klaw & Erlanger hand
over our share of the profits they have made on the side, through
booking my play, I will go on with the tour, if my health permits.”
After his arrival in New York, having read the remarks of the judge in
appointing a receiver, Warfield made this further statement:
[Illustration: DAVID WARFIELD
Photograph by White.
Belasco’s Collection.
]
“I must disclaim any intention of having attempted to coerce the
court into appointing the receiver I desired. Realizing as I did
the enormous amount of labor and energy expended by Mr. Belasco in
making the tours of ‘The Auctioneer’ a success, and appreciating as
I did that without me in the cast it was a grave question whether
the success of ‘The Auctioneer’ could continue, I thought it but
proper for me to inform the court that conscientiously I could not
continue to act unless Mr. Belasco was appointed receiver. I am
very sorry that my statement had the effect it did have, but it is
pleasing for me to learn that the charges made by Mr. Brooks
against Mr. Belasco were unfounded and not believed by the court,
because the court in its opinion says that were it not from a
desire to rebuke _me_ it might have felt inclined to have appointed
Mr. Belasco receiver. That is sufficient satisfaction to us who
know Mr. Belasco’s character, because it is certainly fair to
assume that the court would not have felt inclined to appoint Mr.
Belasco receiver if it believed the charges brought against him.
“I am forced to continue the stand I originally took. I have closed
the season of ‘The Auctioneer,’ nor will I continue to act in that
play under the management of any person but Mr. Belasco.”
Brooks applied for a mandatory injunction to compel Warfield to continue
acting in “The Auctioneer,” under the receivership direction of Mr.
Olcott, and arguments supporting and opposing that application were
heard before Justice Leventritt in the Supreme Court on January 26,
1904. Counsel for Warfield contended that while the court might enjoin
Warfield from acting for any persons outside of his contract, it had no
jurisdiction to compel him to act if he declined to do so. Justice
Leventritt agreed with that view of the matter and held that a mandatory
injunction as prayed for could not issue. Warfield did not act again for
eight months.
TEMPERAMENTAL SYMPATHY.--EARLY READING: “THE LOW SUN MAKES THE COLOR.”
In his youth Belasco was an omnivorous reader (as he continues to be),
but his favorite reading was that of History, and among historical
characters that specially enthralled his imagination was Mary, Queen o’
Scots. Indeed, he has, in conversation, given me the impression that,
from an early age, his mind has been deeply interested in the study of
those famous women of history whose conduct of life is shown to have
been governed by their appetites and passions. That taste seems morbid,
but it is readily explicable. Such women have been, are, and always will
be a direct spring of tense, dramatic, romantic situations and tragic
events, and sometimes their experience involves incidents and culminates
in catastrophes which make a strong appeal to persons who possess, as
Belasco does, a highly emotional temperament. _Queen Guinevere_, in
Tennyson’s pathetic “Idyl,” remarks that “the low sun makes the color.”
Such women as Malcolm’s Queen Margaret of Scotland or Mme. Roland,
probably, would be viewed by Belasco with merely languid respect or
indifference. Such a woman as Navarre’s Marguerite de Valois, or Queen
Catherine the Second of Russia, or the irresistible siren Barbara
Villiers, or that all-conquering captivator Arabella Stuart,--whose
image lives, perpetual, in sculpture and, as Brittania, on the coins of
Great Britain,--would, on the contrary, provide for him an exceedingly
interesting study. It is not, therefore, altogether surprising that when
Belasco had established Mrs. Leslie Carter as a successful star it
pleased him to select for public illustration in a drama one of the most
depraved and dissolute feminine characters that hang on the fringes of
history,--the shameless hussy who, about 145 years ago, was picked out
of the streets of Paris, and under the auspices of the most notorious
titled blackguard of his time wedded to a complaisant degenerate, in
order that she might succeed Mme. Pompadour as the mistress of King
Louis the Fifteenth of France. Marie Jeanne Becu (1746-1793), who began
life in Paris as a milliner, became a courtesan, under the name of Mlle.
Lange, was later a lure for a gambling house, then, ennobled as the
“Countess du Barry,” was installed as the mistress of the corrupt King
Louis the Fifteenth,--whom practically she ruled for five years,--and
finally was slaughtered in the Reign of Terror, is the theme of one of
the most pictorial, popular, and successful of Belasco’s plays. His
selection of a story of that remarkable female’s adventures for dramatic
exploitation was not, however, wholly spontaneous. In 1899, aware that a
successor to the torrid termagant of the Paris music-halls would
presently be required for Mrs. Carter’s use, he began to cast about for
a play with a central character suited to her personality and method.
Not finding anything which he deemed satisfactory in the numerous
dramas, old as well as new, by many authors, which he examined, he
began, regretfully, to contemplate the necessity of writing one to fit
his star,--regretfully, because he was weary and would have been glad to
avoid adding the labor of authorship to that of business and stage
management. His election had practically fallen on Queen Elizabeth as
the central figure to be shown, when he abruptly determined to visit
England, partly in faint hope of finding there a drama which would serve
his end; more with intent to refresh his mind by change and travel and
to stimulate himself to his new task by visiting all the places
associated with the life and reign of Elizabeth. He sailed from New York
on June 14, 1899. Soon after he arrived in London an American
playbroker, Miss Elisabeth Marbury, communicated to him that “she had a
great idea for a part for Mrs. Carter.” Belasco, entertaining a high
opinion of Miss Marbury’s judgment and rejoiced at the sudden prospect
of escaping the labor of authorship, immediately went to see her, at
Versailles, in France, and there was informed that the French poet M.
Jean Richepin “proposed to write a play founded on the life of du
Barry.” The appended account of what followed has been written by
Belasco, and it provides explicit information on a subject that at one
time was disputed with acrimony in the newspaper press and occupied much
of the attention of the theatre-going public:
GENESIS OF BELASCO’S _DU BARRY_.--CHARACTER OF THE HISTORIC ORIGINAL.
“Miss Marbury outlined the plot as told to her by the dramatist,
and, as she repeated it to me, the story seemed to possess great
possibilities. I had produced Revolutionary plays with much success
and the period was dramatic. No manager in search of a woman’s play
could have resisted the fascinating little milliner of history!
Not long after our first interview I made arrangements with M.
Richepin. I smile at the recollection of my conversation with the
French author! He spoke very little English and I no French at all;
yet I seemed to know what he said, and he grew most enthusiastic
over my pantomime. The contracts were arranged, the advance
royalties paid, the costume plates begun, and before I left for
London the scene models were ordered from the scenic artist of the
Comédie Française. Carried away by the enthusiasm of M. Richepin, I
bought yards and yards of old du Barry velvets, antique silks, and
furniture of the period. When I left for home I had made all
arrangements to produce a play not a line of which was written. I
returned to New York elated, feeling certain that in a few weeks M.
Richepin would have the piece ready for rehearsals. When the
manuscript of ‘Du Barry’ arrived, I could scarcely wait to open the
package. Alas! I was doomed to disappointment. ‘Du Barry,’ in the
literary flesh, was episodic. It was poetic and beautifully
written, but deadly dull. It differed entirely from the story I had
heard in Versailles. My company was practically engaged, my models
done--and no play! I wrote to M. Richepin, and gave him my opinion
of the manuscript. I did not utterly condemn his first draft, for I
hoped that with some suggestions, he might be able to reshape his
material; but the longer he worked the more impossible the
manuscript became, until at last I lost all faith in it. It
possessed a certain charm, but--it was not a play. By this time I
had paid M. Richepin something like $3,000 in advance royalties,
and the properties and scenes were almost all delivered. I was so
deeply involved that I saw no way out of it. As du Barry was free
to any dramatist, I decided it was time to have a hand in
dramatizing the lady myself. I knew exactly what I wanted and what
was best suited to Mrs. Carter. Under the circumstances, it seemed
to me that I could save time and cablegrams by taking my own
suggestions instead of sending them to Paris. I arrived at this
decision only when I found that M. Richepin was a far greater poet
than playwright. So I threw out his play and set to work on my
own.”
Speaking of the character of “the little French milliner,” Belasco has
said: “History paints du Barry as the most despised woman of her time.
She is said to have been the most evil creature antedating the French
Revolution. I had a vast number of books relating to du Barry, and
ransacked them all for one redeeming trait in her character: not one
kind word. Alas! Not _one_! For the first time in my life I found myself
in the hands of a really bad woman. I had never met one before (bad men
I _have_ met, but women,--never!). I felt a desire to rush to her
defence.... But--I need not have troubled myself to defend the lady,
for, good or bad, from the first night until the close of the play three
years later the public liked the French milliner and the houses were
sold out.”
A little more careful ransacking of his vast du Barry library might have
revealed some of the kind words about “the lady” which Belasco sought.
Voltaire, in 1773, signified his appreciation of du Barry’s charms in
the following couplet, which certainly carries adulation to an extreme
limit:
“C’est aux mortels d’adorer votre image;
L’original était fait pour les dieux.”
The following description of this handsome female explains, at least
partially, the influence that she exerted. It was written by the Comte
de Belleval, one of her many admirers:
“Madame du Barry was one of the prettiest women at the Court, where
there were so many, and assuredly the most bewitching, on account
of the perfections of her whole person. Her hair, which she often
wore without powder, was fair and of a most beautiful color, and
she had such a profusion that she was at a loss to know what to do
with it. Her blue eyes, widely open, had a kind and frank
expression, and she fixed them upon those persons to whom she spoke
and seemed to follow in their faces the effect of her words. She
had a tiny nose, a very small mouth, and a skin of dazzling
whiteness. In short, she quickly fascinated every one.”
A FANCIFUL FABRIC.--“DU BARRY” FIRST PRODUCED.
The play which Belasco fabricated and produced under the name of “Du
Barry” is radically fanciful: its uses historic names, but it is not, in
any sense, history. As in many precedent cases so in this one,
[Illustration:
Photograph by Sarony. Belasco’s Collection.
MRS. LESLIE CARTER AS _DU BARRY_]
authentic records were ignored and an arbitrary, gilt-edged, rosy ideal
took the place of truth. _Nell Gwynn_, in the person of Miss Henrietta
Crosman, had worn the halo but a little time before (Bijou Theatre, New
York, October 9, 1900), and if _Nell Gwynn_ could wear it, why not
_Marie Jeanne_? This burnishing process, to be sure, is diffusive of
vast and general misinformation, but for most persons that seems to be
quite as useful as accurate knowledge, and, after all, if the Stage is
to present imperial wantons in any fashion it may as well present them
in a decent one. The gay _du Barry_ as seen by the dramatist,--or, at
least, as shown by him,--was abundantly frail, but she was also fond,
and while she did not scruple to pick up the royal pocket-handkerchief
she nevertheless, in her woman’s heart, remained true to her first love:
that is the story of the play. The adventurous actual du Barry became
the paramour of Cossé-Brissac, after King Louis the Fifteenth had died
and after she had been exiled from the French Court. In the play the
lady hides that lover in her bed (he has been wounded, and she persuades
him to seek this retirement by pounding on his wounds with a heavy
candlestick, until he becomes insensible), so that the jealous _King_,
committing the blunder of Byron’s _Don Alfonso_, in “Don Juan,” cannot
find him: she also wields the convenient candlestick with which to
smash the sconce of an interloping relative who otherwise would betray
him; she defies, for his sake, the gracious Majesty of France and every
appurtenance thereunto belonging; and, at the last, she goes
pathetically to the guillotine, still loving him and still deploring her
innocent, youthful past, when they were happy lovers together, when all
was peace, joy, and hope,--because as the old poet Rogers prettily
phrases it, “Life was new and the heart promised what the fancy drew.”
As a matter of fact, the amiable countrymen of du Barry sent her to the
guillotine, in the winter of 1793, because they had ascertained that she
was too rich to be a patriot and also, probably, had entered on a secret
correspondence with their enemies in England.
As an epigraph to his play the dramatist selected a remark by Oliver
Wendell Holmes, that “not the great historical events but the personal
incidents that call up sharp pictures of some human being in its pang or
struggle reach us more nearly.” That statement sounds well, but it
labors under the disadvantage of not being true. The play, however,
exemplifies it to the extent of showing its heroine chiefly in her
“pang”--a condition which, seemingly, ensues upon her being a
feather-brained fool, but which she loquaciously ascribes to Fate and a
ruthless appetite for “pretty things.” There is some lightness at the
start, when _Jeanne_ is a milliner, but the opening act proves to be
practically needless, since the play does not actually begin till after
the second curtain has been raised. Then the volatile girl is tempted by
the offer of the _King’s_ love, and in order that she may accept it her
honest lover is made to misunderstand her, in an incredible manner, such
as is possible only on the stage. In the Third Act she has become a
great personage, almost a queen, and that act, which is interesting,
various, and dramatic, terminates with a highly effective scene,
possible in a play, but impossible in life,--when _du Barry’s_ wounded
lover, falling insensible on that lady’s bed and being carelessly
covered with drapery, remains there, sufficiently visible to a crowd of
eager and suspicious pursuers who are searching for him--but do not find
him. The rest of the piece shows the _King’s_ efforts to capture the
fugitive and _du Barry’s_ schemes and pleadings to save him, and it
terminates with a pathetic farewell between the lovers as _Jeanne_,
deserted and forlorn, is being conveyed to the guillotine.
Mrs. Carter, adept in coquetry, displayed, as _du Barry_, her abundant
physical fascination, but if she had refrained from removing her shoes
and showing her feet at brief intervals during the performance she
would have been considerably more pleasing in that easy vein of
bewitchment:--they were not even pretty feet. In serious business the
method of Mrs. Carter as _du Barry_ was to work herself into a state of
violent excitement, to weep, vociferate, shriek, rant, become hoarse
with passion, and finally to flop and beat the floor. That method has
many votaries and by them is thought to be “acting” and is much admired,
but to judicious observers it is merely the facile expedient of
transparent artifice and the ready resource of a febrile, unstable
nature. An actor who loses self-control can never really control an
audience. There were, nevertheless, executive force and skill in Mrs.
Carter’s performance, after it had been often repeated under the guiding
government of her sagacious and able manager.
Belasco’s “Du Barry” was first produced at the New National Theatre,
Washington, D. C., December 12, 1901. The first performance of it in New
York occurred December 25, that year, at the Criterion Theatre, where it
was continuously acted till the close of the season, May 31, 1902,
receiving 165 consecutive performances. The play is comprehended in five
acts and eight scenes and it implicates fifty-five persons,--of whom
five are conspicuous characters by whom the burden of the action is
sustained,--and a host of supernumeraries. It was set on the stage in a
scenic investiture of extreme costliness and ostentation, being, indeed,
almost overwhelmed in the profusion of its accessories of spectacle.
Referring to this extreme opulence of environment and attire, Belasco
has said: “I offered Charles Frohman a half-interest in my ‘Du Barry,’
but he declined to come in with me because of the immense expense. His
judgment was logical, too. ‘Du Barry’ might easily have ruined any
manager. The expenses of the production were such that there was little
profit to be made. When the curtain rose it afforded the public an
opportunity to see how a manager’s hands were forced by the very
prodigality of the subject he had chosen. My production was lavish
because the play was laid in a lavish time. The mere ‘suggestion’ of
luxury would not do,--or so I thought. Were I to do it again, it would
be from an entirely different standpoint.” I much doubt whether, if the
venture were to be made anew, Belasco would make it in a different way.
At any rate, the purpose he had in mind was fully accomplished: the
immense prodigality of his presentment profoundly impressed and greatly
delighted his audiences, and the Criterion was densely crowded at every
performance. The two most striking scenes were those of Act Three,
which showed a room in the Palace of Versailles, and the Last Scene of
Act Five, in front of a milliner’s shop. The latter portrayed a street
in Paris, shadowed by strange, “high-shouldered” houses, through which
the wretched _du Barry_, abject and terrified, was dragged to
execution,--huddled in a tumbril, attended only by a priest, the _Papal
Nuncio_, and followed by a fierce, hooting rabble, while other men and
women appeared at various house-windows, to jeer and curse her. It was
an afflictingly pathetic scene, conceived and executed with perfect
sense of dramatic effect and perfect mastery of the means of creating
it.
This was the original cast of “Du Barry”:
_King Louis the Fifteenth_ of France Charles A. Stevenson.
_Comte Jean du Barry_ Campbell Gollan.
_Comte Guillaume du Barry_ Beresford Webb.
_Duc de Brissac_ Henry Weaver, Sr.
_Cossé-Brissac_ Hamilton Revelle.
_The Papal Nuncio_ H. R. Roberts.
_Duc de Richelieu_ Frederick Perry.
_Terray, Minister of Finance_ C. P. Flockton.
_Maupeou, Lord Chancellor_ H. G. Carlton.
_Duc d’Aiguillon_ Leonard Cooper.
_Denys_ Claude Gillingwater.
_Lebel_ Herbert Millward.
_M. Labille_ Gilmore Scott.
_Vaubernier_ Walter Belasco.
[Illustration:
Photograph by Byron. Belasco’s Collection.
CHARLES A. STEVENSON AS _KING LOUIS THE FIFTEENTH_, IN BELASCO’S “DU
BARRY”]
_Scario_ J. D. Jones.
_Zamore_ Master Sams.
_Jeweller_ B. L. Clinton.
_Perfumer_ Edward Redford.
_Glover_ Thomas Thorne.
_Flute Player_ A. Joly.
_A Turk_ Albert Sanford.
_Valroy_ Douglas Wood.
_D’Altaire_ Louis Myll.
_De Courcel_ Harold Howard.
_La Garde_ W. T. Bune.
_Fontenelle_ Warren Bevin.
_Renard_ Arthur Pearson.
_Citizen Grieve_ Gaston Mervale.
_Marac_ Walter Belasco.
_Benisot_ H. G. Carlton.
_Tavernier_ John Ingram.
_Gomard_ Charles Hayne.
_Hortense_ Eleanor Carey.
_Lolotte_ Nina Lyn.
_Manon_ Florence St. Leonard.
_Julie_ Corah Adams.
_Leonie_ Blanche Sherwood.
_Nichette_ Ann Archer.
_Juliette_ May Lyn.
_Marquise de Quesnoy_ Blanche Rice.
_Sophie Arnauld_ Helen Robertson.
_The Gypsy Hag_ C. P. Flockton.
_Mlle. Le Grand_ Ruth Dennis.
_Mlle. Guinard_ Eleanor Stuart.
_Mme. le Dauphine_ { _Marie Antoinette_ } Helen Hale.
{ at sixteen }
_Marquise de Crenay_ Dora Goldthwaite.
_Duchesse d’Aiguillon_ Miss Lyn.
_Princesse Alixe_ Miss Leonard.
_Duchesse de Choisy_ Louise Morewin.
_Marquise de Langers_ May Montford.
_Comtesse de Marsen_ Edith Van Benthuysen.
_Sophia_ Irma Perry.
_Rosalie_ Helen Robertson.
_Cerisette_ Julie Lindsey.
_Jeannette Vaubernier_, { afterward } Mrs. Leslie Carter.
{ “_La du Barry_” }
RICHEPIN AND THE “DU BARRY” LAWSUIT.
After Belasco had rejected Richepin’s play about du Barry, returned the
manuscript of it to him, and announced that he would produce a play
about that celebrated favorite of royalty, written by himself, there was
much pother in theatrical circles and much newspaper parade of warnings
and threats, by Richepin and various of his agents, of the dire
consequences which would fall upon him for so doing. The once widely
known firm of lawyers, Howe & Hummel, were the American representatives
of the French Authors’ Society, which supported Richepin, and Mr. A.
Hummel,--who, 1905, was convicted of subornation of perjury, imprisoned
for one year on Blackwells Island, and debarred,--who was the active
member of that firm, on January 25, 1902, brought suit against Belasco,
[Illustration: MRS. LESLIE CARTER AS _DU BARRY_
Photograph by Sarony.
]
on behalf of the French author, alleging, substantially, that Belasco’s
“Du Barry” was, in fact, Richepin’s drama of similar name (“La du
Barry”) and demanding an accounting for the receipts from
representations of it. Belasco’s reply to the complaint in that suit was
served on March 4, 1902, and it was explicit and conclusive. In that
answer he specifies that on July 22, 1899, he entered into a contract
with M. Richepin, which that author obtained “by false and fraudulent
representations,” wherein he agreed to write for Belasco a “new and
original” play about du Barry, which was to be “entirely satisfactory to
this defendant [Belasco],”--failing which he was at liberty to reject
the work and return it to Richepin. Belasco, “relying upon the said
representations, statements, and promises, and not otherwise, and
believing the same to be true, paid to the plaintiff, on the signing and
execution of the agreement, the sum of $1,000”; and, on or about July 1,
1901, upon receiving from Richepin (in London, during the run of “Zaza”)
the manuscript, in French, of “La du Barry,” he paid $1,500 more. Of his
own play, “Du Barry,” Belasco swore that it is “wholly composed and
originated by this defendant, without any aid or assistance whatever
from the play alleged to have been written by” Richepin. The latter’s
play, Belasco pointed out, was “not new and original,” as required by
the contract between them, but was “taken, plagiarized, pirated, and
copied, by the plaintiff, from public sources and publications, common
and open to the public, and that the said play was wholly unsatisfactory
to him [Belasco], of which fact he notified the plaintiff, and that the
said manuscript was thereafter returned to, and accepted by, the
plaintiff.” A motion on behalf of Richepin to strike out these damaging
clauses from Belasco’s answer was made and argued before Justice
Freeman, in the Supreme Court, March 13,--Mr. Hummel maintaining that
the allegations of fraud and plagiarism by Richepin were “irrelevant and
redundant.” The motion was peremptorily denied,--after which the legal
ardor of the French poet and his agents cooled and his suit languished:
Richepin never proceeded in the case (which appears to have been an
effort to extort money from Belasco), and it was formally discontinued
in January, 1908.
Richepin’s play (called “Du Barri”) was produced by Mrs. Cora Urquhart
Potter, March 18, 1905, at the Savoy Theatre, London, and it was a
complete failure. “I had planned to take Mrs. Carter to London, in ‘Du
Barry,’” Belasco has told me, “but Mrs. Potter’s failure was so decisive
that I gave up all thought of attempting to do so.” Writing about the
“Du Barry” lawsuit, Belasco says: “Our quarrel was long and heated, but
eventually all was ‘forgotten and forgiven,’ and I could once more read
Richepin’s mellow poetry without tearing my hair, and Richepin said
publicly, ‘The rest is silence,’ or something as nearly like it as the
Frenchman _can_ say,”--which, truly, was most generous on the part of
“the Frenchman,” in view of the fact that, altogether, Belasco had paid
him $8,500 in a venture toward making which he had, at most, contributed
merely the suggestion of a subject.
A GRACIOUS TRIBUTE:--“REMEMBER THAT WE LOVED YOU.”
On the first day of the new year, 1902, Belasco was the recipient of a
gracious tribute which, as he feelingly said to me, is one of his most
cherished memories. The performance ended about half-past eleven on the
night of December 31, 1901, and a little before midnight all the members
of the company concerned in representation of his drama assembled on the
stage about Belasco, Mrs. Carter, and Charles A. Stevenson, ostensibly
to greet the new year. Just at midnight beautiful silver chimes slowly
rang out the hour, and as Belasco turned to wish the assembled company
a happy New Year Mr. Stevenson stepped forward before he could speak
and, uncovering a massive and beautiful loving-cup of silver set upon an
ebony pedestal, presented it to Belasco “as a token of the great esteem
and true affection with which, during the long and arduous preparation
of ‘Du Barry,’ every member of your organization has learned to regard
you.” Belasco, always warm-hearted and peculiarly susceptible to even
casual acts of courtesy and kindness, was so much affected by the
cordial feeling displayed by all about him in the conveyance of this
rich gift that for several moments he was unable to make any
acknowledgment. Then, speaking with difficulty and almost in a whisper,
he said: “I--I thank you, all--all--from my heart. It is very lovely.
You have worked so hard, with me and for me--all of you--so nobly and so
unselfishly that I feel it is _I_ who should give a loving-cup to
you--to every member of the company. In all my experience I have not
received a more generous, touching tribute--anything which I have
appreciated more. I am poor in words--I can only say to all of you thank
you, thank you, thank you--a thousand thousand times.”
As Belasco ceased speaking the orchestra began to play the air of
“Maryland, My Maryland,” passing
[Illustration: BELASCO, ABOUT 1902
Photograph by the Misses Selby. Belasco’s collection.
]
from that into other melodies associated with his successful plays and
closing with a plaintive tune written specially for use in “Du Barry.”
On the “Du Barry” loving-cup there are three inscriptions. The first is
Washington, D. C.
December 12, 1901
Mrs Leslie Carter in David Belasco’s Play “Du Barry”
The second is
Presented to
Mr. David Belasco by the Members of His Company
New Year’s, 1902
The third is a line from the play of “Du Barry”:
“Remember that we loved you; we loved you
through it all”
THE THEATRIC _RICHMOND_ “LOOKS PROUDLY O’ER THE CROWN.”
The upward progress which Belasco made in the Theatre within a period of
six years is amazing. When the curtain was raised for the first
performance of his “The Heart of Maryland,” at the Herald Square, in
October, 1895, he possessed almost nothing except his reputation as one
of the most skilful of stage managers and a copious crop of debts. When
the curtain fell on the last performance in 1901 of “Du Barry,” at the
Criterion, he was, as dramatist, director, and theatrical manager,
known, esteemed, and recognized throughout the English-speaking world:
his debts were all discharged: he possessed a competent fortune, hosts
of admirers, troops of friends: within less than three years he had made
three memorably successful presentments in the British capital (where
American ventures are supposed always to fail!): three of the most
accomplished and popular actors of the American Stage, Mrs. Carter,
Blanche Bates, and David Warfield, were under his direction and closely
bound to him. The whirligig of Time had indeed brought striking changes.
Lester Wallack, Edwin Booth, Lawrence Barrett, John McCullough--they
were but names in theatrical management. Augustin Daly, the great
representative manager of the Theatre in America, was dead. Albert M.
Palmer, once Daly’s rival, was obscurely employed as a “business agent”
for Richard Mansfield, while Mansfield’s own ambitious but ill-fated
essay in theatre management (at the Garrick, New York, in 1895) was
completely forgotten; Mansfield was definitely committed to the policy
of a “travelling star,” and the Theatre in New York was Charles
Frohman’s much vaunted Department Store. Mr. and Mrs. Harrison Grey
Fiske, at the Manhattan, were indeed maintaining an admirable dramatic
company and making an earnest endeavor in authentic theatrical
management. But, in general, the mean spirit of the petty huckster and
the sordid, selfish policy of trade monopoly dominated the American
Stage; the chair of artistic managerial sovereignty was empty, “the
sword unswayed, the empire unpossessed,” and Belasco, ambitiously
emulative of great exemplars in his vocation, like a theatric
_Richmond_, looked “proudly o’er the crown.” He was, unquestionably, the
natural successor to Wallack, Booth, and Daly; but in order to seize
their pre-eminence, to win and wear their laurel crown of leadership, he
required to have what they had each possessed,--namely, a theatre of his
own in the capital. There seemed no chance of his obtaining one: yet,
without such a citadel, notwithstanding all his labor and achievement,
he might easily be crushed: the oppressive hand of the Theatrical
Syndicate (in his estimation veritably a “wretched, bloody, and usurping
boar”) had already been laid heavily on Belasco: a half-interest in his
presentment of Warfield in “The Auctioneer” had been extorted from him
and an equal share in his exploitations of Mrs. Carter and Miss Bates
had been demanded, though not yielded up. What if he should be denied
“routes” for those players? He had brought out Mrs. Carter in “Du Barry”
at the Criterion not because he wished to do so,--that house, which
accommodated only 932 persons, being far too small for an advantageous
season,--but because it was the only theatre in New York which he could
secure. Charles Frohman was its manager and Charles Frohman was a member
of the Syndicate: the Criterion might be closed to him at the end of his
current contract. If shut off from the “first class theatres” of the
leading cities “on the road” and shut out of New York he would
practically be ruined. These and similar considerations gave grounds for
grave uneasiness to Belasco. On the afternoon of January 7, 1902, he was
alone in his office, a little room in Carnegie Hall, as he had been
every afternoon for more than a week, seeking to devise some means of
obtaining control of a New York theatre for a term of years. Toward
evening he was disturbed by a knocking at the office door. His visitor,
when admitted, proved to be the theatrical manager Oscar Hammerstein,
between whom and himself there existed merely a casual acquaintance.
“Mr. Belasco,” said Hammerstein, without any preliminaries, “the
Theatrical Syndicate is trying to crush me out of business. Valuable
attractions have been prevented from patronizing my houses this season.
I must have attractions. You must have a New York theatre, or you will
find yourself helpless. I have one in Forty-second Street, the Republic,
which I am willing to turn over to you. I have come up here on an
impulse, on the chance that you may be willing to take over control of
the Republic.” Belasco instantly replied: “Mr. Hammerstein, I shall be
very glad to take over your theatre.” In less than a week all details of
agreement had been arranged between the two managers, and on January 14,
in the office of Judge A. J. Dittenhoefer, they signed a contract
whereby Belasco undertook the management of the Republic Theatre. That
contract was for a period of five years, with an option of renewal by
Belasco for another five years, and under it he assumed full government
of the theatre,--engaging himself to pay to Hammerstein a rental of
$30,000 a year and 10 per cent. of the gross receipts from all
performances given there. It was also stipulated that neither Mrs.
Carter, Blanche Bates, David Warfield, nor any other “star or
attraction” under Belasco’s management should play at any other New York
theatre, “except for one week each at the Harlem Opera House and the
Grand Opera House.” “That lease,” Belasco has declared to me, “was a
great thing for Hammerstein,--but it was a greater thing for me, and I
did not forget that afterward, when I was paying him from $60,000 to
$72,000 a year for his theatre. When some of my friends used to say to
me, ‘Don’t you realize that you are paying Hammerstein an _unheard-of_
rent for his house?’ I used to answer, ‘And don’t _you_ realize how very
lucky I am _to be in a position_ to pay him an unheard-of rent?’”
A DANGEROUS ACCIDENT.--ALTERING THE REPUBLIC.
A few weeks subsequent to signing the lease of the Republic Theatre with
Hammerstein Belasco met with an accident which came near to putting an
end to all his projects by causing his death. On the night of March 16
he witnessed a performance of his “Du Barry,” at the Criterion. While
the setting was being placed for the last scene--a cumbrous, intricate
setting, in which he took special interest--he left his box in the
auditorium and went upon the stage to direct the work. As he did so a
large and heavy cornice which was being swung into position high in air
broke and fell, striking him full upon the head. Another piece of
scenery, thrown out of balance by the falling cornice, collapsed, and
in a moment Belasco was buried beneath a mass of tangled wreckage. He
was with difficulty extricated, unconscious and profusely bleeding. A
physician was called, who, after a quarter of an hour, having stanched
the bleeding, succeeded in restoring the injured manager to
consciousness. It was at first feared that he had sustained a fracture
of the skull, but happily he was found to be suffering only from shock
and loss of blood due to a severe scalp wound. He was removed to his
home and within a few days he had regained his usual health.
After carefully examining the interior of the Republic Theatre Belasco
became convinced that it required to be altered for his use. “The stage
was wrong, the house was wrong, and the colors set my teeth on edge,” he
has told me. Hammerstein was willing that he should make any changes he
desired. Belasco, accordingly, took possession of the theatre at about
the end of March and, on April 19, 1902, the work of altering it so as
to make it conform to his wishes was begun. He started that work
intending to spend from $15,000 to $20,000 on improvements. When it was
finished he had expended more than $150,000. The whole interior of the
building was torn out, leaving nothing but four walls and part of the
roof. Toward the front of the property a space was blasted out of solid
rock wherein, beneath the auditorium, were built a retiring-room for
women and a smoking-room for men. A sub-stage chamber, more than
twenty-five feet deep, was also blasted out of the rock,--incidental to
which excavation a perpetual spring of water was tapped. Talking with me
about his experience in remodelling the Republic Theatre, Belasco, in
his characteristically cheery and philosophical way, said: “I remember
your telling me about the trouble Edwin Booth got into, blasting out a
ledge of rock when he was building his theatre [Booth’s Theatre,
Twenty-third Street and Sixth Avenue, 1868-’69], but I don’t believe he
had half as bad a time as we did when that spring broke loose! I was so
crazy about having my own theatre I wanted to have a hand in everything
and I used to go down and fire some of the blasts, in spite of the
protests of my family and staff, who expected I’d blow myself to Kingdom
Come. And it was _I_ who fired the charge that started that spring! My
boys in the theatre used to call me ‘Moses’ after that, for that I did
smite the rock and there came water out of it. We _damned_ it, heartily,
I can tell you, but it was a long time before we could get it _dammed_,
and it cost me a small fortune to have the stage cavity cemented in.”
[Illustration:
Photograph by Byron. Belasco’s Collection.
BELASCO’S “STUDIO” IN THE FIRST BELASCO THEATRE]
One day, during the work of alteration, a stranger presented himself to
Belasco, demanding that he be permitted to inspect the property and
explaining that he held a mortgage on it. “I had nothing to do with the
mortgage,” Belasco told me; “that was Mr. Hammerstein’s business; but I
let him come in. He surveyed the scene of devastation with horror,
standing on a scaffold, high up, and gazing into the black pit. ‘God
above me!’ he exclaimed, after a little while, ‘I’ve got a mortgage on
four walls and a hole in the ground!’--and he fled. I never saw him
again.”
THE FIRST BELASCO THEATRE.
The work of demolishing and rebuilding the Republic for Belasco was
performed in five months. When it was completed he possessed one of the
handsomest and best equipped playhouses in the world. “The theatre,”
Belasco has often said, “is, first of all, a place for the _acting of
plays_.” That simple statement might be deemed a platitude, were it not
for the striking fact that its maker is the _only_ theatrical manager of
the present day who practically recognizes its truth: to the majority of
other managers the theatre, it seems, is, primarily, a place for almost
anything rather than _acting_,--is, in fact, first of all, a place for
the exploitation of their tedious conceit and the making of money by any
means. The stage of the Belasco Theatre was designed and built with the
purpose of obviating the disadvantages of restricted space and of
affording every possible mechanical aid to the acting of plays. The
entire “acting surface” of that stage--the entire surface, that is,
which could be revealed to the view of the spectators,--was a mosaic of
close-fitting trapdoors, so that on occasion it might be opened at any
place desired. In the centre of the stage was “an elevator,”--that is,
in fact, a movable platform,--fifteen feet wide and thirty feet long.
Upon this platform, when it had been lowered into the cellar cavity,
were placed the paraphernalia required in the setting of the
scenes,--articles technically designated as “properties” (furniture,
etc.), and “set pieces” (solid, heavy parts of scenic rooms, houses,
etc.)--which were then raised to the stage level for use: when done
with, these paraphernalia were sunk again into the cellarage, where the
platform bearing them was shifted aside and another similar one, loaded
with material for the next setting, replaced it and was in turn raised
to the stage.
The drops (painted cloths), ceilings, etc., were all arranged for
hoisting into the flies, as in most modern theatres; but Belasco had
the ropes by which these articles were raised from his stage so attached
to counterweights and cranks that one man could, with ease, raise pieces
which, in former times, it had required from three to six men to hoist.
The footlights were so arranged that the light from them was diffused
upon the stage and players without the spectators, even those in the
upper stage boxes, being able to perceive whence it came. The electric
lamps in the footlights, borders, etc., were placed in small, individual
compartments, so that no unintentional blending of lights could occur:
but every necessary different color of lamp was provided and all the
lamps in the house, whether upon the stage or in the auditorium, were
connected “on resistance,”--that is, so connected with the electric
current feed wires that the lights could be (as invariably they were)
turned up or down, as required, gently, by degrees. In short, every
arrangement that knowledge, experience, and prevision could suggest as
necessary and that liberality, ingenuity, and care could devise was
provided. “I have an even better electrical equipment in my present
theatre than I had in my first house,” Belasco has said to me, “and I am
proud of it. But in my first house I had the very best there was in the
world at the time. I had a plant that would have lit a palace: in fact,
I very much doubt whether there was a palace anywhere in all the world
as well equipped in the matter of lighting.”
Belasco’s first theatre contained seating accommodation for 950
persons,--300 in the gallery, 200 in the balcony, and 450 on the
orchestra, or main, floor. No effort or expense was spared to make the
house in every way comfortable and delightful to all who visited it.
Outside, in front, a massive iron marquee-awning shadowed the main
entrance, overhanging the street-walk out to the curb. The doors of the
theatre were of heavy wrought iron and opened into a lobby which was, in
fact, a sort of reception hall. The walls and ceilings of this lobby
were sheathed in oak panelling of antique finish, and large, luxurious
seats of heavy oak, upholstered in leather, were placed at each end of
it. Across the rear of the auditorium, on the orchestra floor, close to
the hindermost row of seats, extended a massive screen built of
rosewood, with heavy crystal lights, to protect the audience within from
drafts of air and to exclude street sounds. The colors of the
decorations were reds, greens, and deep golden browns,--all used in
warm, subdued shades. The rear and side walls were hung with rich
tapestries, depicting an autumnal forest. The
[Illustration:
Photograph by Byron. Author’s Collection.
BELASCO IN HIS STUDIO AT THE FIRST BELASCO THEATRE]
floors were covered with heavy, soft, dark-green velvet carpets. The
seats were upholstered in silk tapestry of a complementary shade of
silver-green color, and on the back of each of them was embroidered the
semblance of a bee,--fit emblem of Belasco’s energetic, ceaseless toil.
The ceiling and dome were handsomely decorated in dull gold, sparingly
used, with soft grays and rose. There were two drop curtains,--one of
heavy, rose-colored velvet; the other an old-fashioned one of plain
green baize. Every detail of the architecture and decorations was
delicate and harmonious, and the general effect was at once opulent and
restful. The architects employed by Belasco were Messrs. Bigelow, Wallis
& Cotton, of New York: the director was Mr. Rudolph Allen. But the
active inspiration of all this beauty and luxury provided for the public
enjoyment, the conglutinating and executive force which in the face of
manifold dissensions and difficulties held all the associate laborers
together and drove through to successful completion all the varied work
of invention and reconstruction, was Belasco himself. At last he had
carried bricks for himself to some lasting purpose! When he opened his
playhouse it was in every detail as well as in every essential a new
theatre, veritably the creation of _his_ mind and will, and he very
appropriately dropped the name of the Republic and called it The
Belasco Theatre.
“AFTER THIRTY YEARS OF LABOR.”--BELASCO IN HIS OWN THEATRE;--THE OPENING
NIGHT.
The first Belasco Theatre was opened on Monday night, September 29,
1902, with a revival of “Du Barry.” The night was sultry, but the house
was crowded, in every part, far beyond its normal capacity; the
performance was one of remarkable fluency, vigor, and intensity, and it
was received by the audience with well-nigh frantic manifestations of
enthusiasm. After the Third Act there were more than twenty curtain
calls, and finally, in response to vociferous crying for him by name,
Belasco came upon the stage, dishevelled, pale, and weary, but very
happy, and addressed the audience, saying:
“Ladies and Gentlemen: It is so hard for me to speak to you as I
would wish. There is so much to say, yet so little that I can say.
It is your kind sympathy and approval that have made this little
playhouse possible. I owe you--the public--far, far more than I can
tell. You all know that it has been my life-work, my greatest
ambition, to give you the best I could. In this I can honestly say
I have not faltered since I first knocked at your door,
[Illustration: DAVID BELASCO
Photograph by the Misses Selby.
Author’s Collection.
]
many years ago. And in that endeavor I stand firm to-night. I thank
the friends who have upheld me so loyally all these many years. I
thank the press for the encouragement I have received. There are
some very beautiful things in the lives of those I have followed,
and one of these is the fellowship of brother workers. I am always
inspired, I always shall be inspired, by the memory and example of
three inimitable comrades of the Theatre,--one the late Lester
Wallack, another the late, lamented Augustin Daly, and yet another
who is still with us, who has given the best years of his life to
advance the art which both you and I love so well: I refer to Mr.
A. M. Palmer. They fought the good fight, these three; they kept
the faith. They gave us glorious traditions to remember and live up
to. They gave all to advance the highest. This is something we must
never forget.
“Ladies and gentlemen, there is another of whom I must make some
mention--one whose sympathy and help have contributed to my being
here to-night. I mean my friend and companion in work, Mrs. Leslie
Carter. Here and now I wish gratefully to acknowledge the debt of
her services, her unselfishness and loyalty in time of many
struggles.
“I have many plans for this little theatre, ladies and gentlemen.
Let me say just a word to you about the managerial policy. I am
anxious to make my patrons feel at home when they honor me by
coming, and so I have tried to make your surroundings in front of
the curtain those of a comfortable, home-like drawing-room. I
intend that the productions and casts shall be the best that work
and care can provide. In all ways I desire to make this new
dramatic home of ours a dwelling of refinement, good taste, good
entertainment, and good art. No stone shall be left unturned, no
effort unmade, to accomplish that end. You cannot know what it
means to me to speak to you, at last, after thirty years of labor
in the dramatic calling, from the stage of my own theatre. Ladies
and gentlemen, I thank you--I thank you--I can say no more.”
THE FIRST PROGRAMME.
The following is the programme, in detail, of the first performance
given in Belasco’s Theatre on what was, in many ways, the happiest and
proudest night of all his life:
BELASCO THEATRE
_BROADWAY AND FORTY-SECOND STREET_
UNDER THE SOLE MANAGEMENT OF DAVID BELASCO
* * * * *
_Evenings at 8 precisely_ _Matinees Saturdays at 2_
* * * * *
DAVID BELASCO
_PRESENTS_
Mrs. Leslie Carter
_IN HIS NEW PLAY_
“DU BARRY”
“_Not the great historical events, but the personal incidents that call up
single, sharp pictures of some human being in its pang or struggle, reach
us more nearly._”--OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES.
CAST
_King Louis the Fifteenth_ of France C. A. Stevenson.
_Comte Jean du Barry_, eventually brother-in-law
of _La du Barry_ Campbell Gollan.
_Comte Guillaume du Barry_, his brother Beresford Webb.
_Duc de Brissac_, Capt. of King’s Guard Henry Weaver, Sr.
_Cossé-Brissac_, his son (of the King’s Guard),
known as “_Cossé_” Hamilton Revelle.
_The Papal Nuncio_ H. R. Roberts.
} Under {
_Duc de Richelieu_, Marshal of France } _King Louis_ { Geo. Barnum.
_Maupeou_, Lord Chancellor } _the_ { C. P. Flockton.
_Terray_, Minister of Finance } _Fifteenth_ { H. G. Carlton.
_Duc D’Aiguillon_ Leonard Cooper.
_Denys_, porter at the milliner shop Claude Gillingwater.
_Lebel_, confidential valet to His Majesty Herbert Millward.
_M. Labille_, proprietor of the milliner shop Gilmore Scott.
_Vaubernier_, father of _Jeannette_ Charles Campbell.
_Scarlo_, one of “_La du Barry’s_” Nubian servants J. D. Jones.
_Zamore_, a plaything of “_La du Barry’s_” Master Sams.
_Flute Player_ A. Joly.
_Valroy_ } Of the { Douglas J. Wood.
_D’Allaire_ } _King’s_ Guard { Louis Myll.
_De Courcel_ } { Harold Howard.
_La Garde_ } Two Tavern { W. T. Bune.
_Fontenelle_ } Roysterers { Thomas Boone.
_Benard_, one of the “Hundred Swiss” Warren Deven.
_Citizen Grieve_, of the Committee of Public Safety Gaston Mervale.
_Marac_, one of the Sans-Culottes James Sargeant.
_Denisot_, Judge of the Revolutionary Court H. G. Carlton.
_Tavernier_, clerk of the court John Ingram.
_Gomard_ Charles Hayne.
_Hortense_, Manageress for _Labille_ the milliner Eleanor Carey.
_Lolotte_ } { Nina Lyn.
_Manon_ } Girls { Florence St. Leonard.
_Julie_ } at the { Corah Adams.
_Leonie_ } Milliner’s { Blanche Sherwood.
_Nichette_ } Shop { Ann Archer.
_Juliette_ } { May Lyn.
_Marquise du Quesnoy_, known as “_La Gourdan_,”
keeper of a gambling house Blanche Rice.
_Sophie Arnauld_, queen of the opera Miss Robertson.
_The Gypsy Hag_, a fortune-teller C. P. Flockton.
_Mlle. Le Grand_ } Dancers from the { Ruth Dennis.
_Mlle. Guimard_ } Grand Opera { Eleanor Stuart.
_Mme. La Dauphine_--_Marie Antoinette_ at sixteen Helen Hale.
_Marquise de Crenay_ } { Helen Robertson.
_Duchesse D’Aiguillon_ } Ladies { Miss Lyn.
_Princesse Alixe_ } of { Miss Leonard.
_Duchesse de Choisy_ } _King Louis_ { Louise Morewin.
_Marquise de Langers_ } Court { May Montford.
_Comtesse de Marsen_ } { Grace Van Benthuysen.
_Sophie_, a maid Irma Perry.
_Rosalie_, of the Concièrgerie Helen Robertson.
_Cerisette_ Julie Lindsey.
AND
_JEANNETTE VAUBERNIER_, afterwards _La du
Barry_ MRS. LESLIE CARTER.
* * * * *
Guests of the Fête, Dancers from the Opera, King’s Guardsmen, Monks,
Clowns, Pages, Milliners, Sentries, Lackeys, Footmen, King’s Secret
Police, Sans-Culottes, a Mock King, a Mock Herald, a Drunken Patriot, a
Cocoa Vender, Federals, National Guards, Tricoteuses.
* * * * *
SYNOPSIS OF SCENES.
Act I.--The Milliner’s Shop in the Rue St. Honoré, Paris.
_JEANNETTE_ TRIMS HATS.