The Life of David Belasco; Vol. 1 :: CONFLICTIVE TESTIMONY.

CONFLICTIVE TESTIMONY.

I have made scrupulous inquiry relative to Belasco’s first meeting with Boucicault (an event the exact date of which, since it profoundly influenced his career, ought to be established), and, although the former is positive that his memory of the occurrence is correct, I have become convinced that he has much confused the time and circumstances. The process of such misremembrances as this of Belasco’s is neither unusual nor difficult to understand. From 1873 to 1883 his life was feverish with activity. During that period he certainly met Boucicault, in Virginia City, and was there associated with him, as amanuensis. When “La Tentation” and Boucicault’s version of that play, called “Led Astray,” were acted in San Francisco (April, 1874), Belasco saw them, and, like many other persons associated with the Theatre, he heard much of the disputation which eddied round them. Years later, remembering his association with Boucicault, in Virginia City, the mistaken impression found lodgment in his mind that it was “Led Astray” on which the elder playwright was at work when they became acquainted, and, by repetition and elaboration, that erroneous belief has become fixed. To my objection that it is absolutely impossible that Boucicault could have dictated to him “Led Astray” Belasco’s reply, several times iterated, is, in effect, that Boucicault was working on the play “long before” it was produced in New York and that, whether possible or not, he is “very positive” Boucicault did dictate it to him, in Virginia City, during a blizzard. It would not be just to Belasco, he being sure that his recollection of this affair is absolutely accurate, to assert that it is wholly incorrect without giving his explicit statement of the incidents. Therefore, I quote it here, from his “Story”:

“When Boucicault reached Virginia City, he was under contract to deliver a play to A. M. Palmer, of New York. ’Led Astray’ was its title. But his writing hand was so knotted with gout that he could scarcely hold a pen. Boucicault was noted for being a very secretive man. He would never have a secretary because he feared such a man might learn too much of his methods of work. He was in the habit of saying: ’I can’t write a line when I dictate. I think better when I have a pen in my hand.’

“But now he had to have assistance to finish ’Led Astray.’ At this time I had some slight reputation as a stage manager and author. In those days everything was cut and dried, and the actor’s positions were as determined as those of the pawns on a chess-board. But whenever an opportunity offered itself, I would introduce something less rigorous in the way of action, much to the disgust of the older players. Boucicault must have heard of my revolutionary methods, for he sent me a message to come and see him and have a chat with him. With much perturbation, I went to his hotel and knocked on his door.

“‘They tell me you write plays,’ he began. Then followed question after question. He tested my handwriting, he commented on certain stage business he had heard me suggest the day before; then he said abruptly:

“‘I want you to take dictation for me,—I’m writing a play for the Union Square Theatre,—you have probably heard of the manager, A. M. Palmer,—at one time a librarian, but now giving Lester Wallack and Augustin Daly a race for their lives. I hope, young man, you can keep a secret; you strike me as being “still water.” Whatever you see, I want you to forget.’

“So I sat at a table, took my coat off and began Act One of ’Led Astray.’ Boucicault lay propped up with pillows, before a blazing fire, a glass of hot whisky beside him. It was not long before I found out that he was the terror of the whole house. If there was the slightest noise below stairs or in the street, he would raise such a hubbub until it stopped that I had never heard the like of before.

“Whenever he came to a part of the dialogue requiring Irish, I noticed how easily his dictation flowed. When he reached a dramatic situation, he acted it out as well as his crippled condition would allow. One thing I noticed particularly: he always held a newspaper in his hand and gave furtive glances at something behind it I was not supposed to see. I was determined, however, to know just what he was concealing from me.

“The opportunity came one morning when he was called out of the room. Before he went, I noted how careful he was to place a newspaper so that it completely hid the thing under it. I went quickly to the table, and, turning over the pages, I found a French book, ’La Tentation,’ from which the entire plot of ’Led Astray’ was taken. In those days, authors did not credit the original source from which they adapted. But Boucicault was more than an adapter—he was a brilliant and indefatigable slave, resting neither night

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Photograph by Sarony. Belasco’s Collection.

DION BOUCICAULT

“The Master of the Revels”

nor day. There is no doubt that even though he adapted,—in accordance with the custom of the time,—he added to the original source, making everything he touched distinctly his own. He left everything better than he found it; his pen was often inspired, and in spite of his many traducers, he was the greatest genius of our Theatre at that time. Boucicault was a master craftsman....”

I am inclined to the opinion that the play of which Boucicault actually did dictate a part to Belasco, during the early days of their acquaintance, in Virginia City, is, perhaps, “Forbidden Fruit,”—which was derived from a French original, and which was first produced at Wallack’s Theatre, October 3, 1876: it is, however, to be remembered that there is an Irish character,—a kind of Sir Lucius O’Trigger-turned-blackguard, who is designated Major O’Hara,—in “Led Astray.” Nevertheless, as to Belasco’s reminiscence of the writing of that play, I am convinced that, though interesting, it is wholly apocryphal; the following is a summary of my reasons for so believing:

Belasco did not make his first appearance with Minnie Wells, at the Metropolitan Theatre, San Francisco, until December 16, 1872, and, of course, his meeting with Boucicault could not have preceded that date. Boucicault, moreover, and his wife, the beautiful Agnes Robertson, were absent from this country, according to my records, for about twelve years preceding 1872. In the Fall of that year they returned to America, and, on September 23, they reappeared together, at Booth’s Theatre, New York, in “Arrah-na-Pogue.” They acted there until November 16, and then made a tour through various cities of the country, but, as far as I have been able to ascertain, they did not go west of St. Louis, Missouri. Boucicault reappeared in New York, at Booth’s Theatre, March 17, 1873, acting, for the first time anywhere, Daddy O’Dowd, of which part he gave truly a great impersonation and on which he had been at work during all his tour. His engagement at Booth’s lasted until May 10. From that date to the latter part of August Boucicault was in New York,—except when he visited the ingratiating but false-hearted William Stuart (Edmund C. O’Flaherty, 1821-1886), at New London, Connecticut. During that period he was actively engaged on many projects,—the completion, rehearsal, and presentment of “Mora,” which was brought out at Wallack’s Theatre, June 3, and of “Mimi,” produced there on July 1; the writing of other plays, and business negotiations relative to the building and opening of Stuart’s Park Theatre, which, originally, was intended for his use. (Stuart, after many postponements, opened it, April 15, 1874, presenting Charles Fechter in “Love’s Penance.”) On August 28, 1873, Boucicault began an engagement at Wallack’s Theatre, acting in “Kerry” and “Used Up.” A few days later he broke down and went to New London to rest. On September 16, that year, in company with me, among others, he attended the first performance in America given by Tommaso Salvini: I talked with him there—at the Academy of Music. On December 6, 1873, his “Led Astray” was produced, for the first time anywhere, at the Union Square Theatre, New York. I was present, and I saw and heard Boucicault, when he was called before the curtain, and, writing in “The New York Tribune,” in the course of a review of the performance, I recorded the following comment:

... The drama comes from the French of Octave Feuillet, and it was translated by Mr. Boucicault. Whoever wishes to see with what an assured step clever authorship can walk on ticklish ground may behold the imposing spectacle at the Union Square Theatre. Mr. Boucicault was called before the curtain on Saturday night by vociferous applause, both at the end of the Third Act and at the end of the play, and in the speech which finally he made he told his auditors to give at least two-thirds of the credit for whatever pleasure they had received to his friend Octave Feuillet. Mr. Boucicault was also understood to say something about a projected revival of Legitimate Drama. We were not aware of its demise. And, even if it were dead, we fail to perceive how Mr. Boucicault could manage to effect its resuscitation by the translating of French plays of very doubtful propriety. It is to be remembered, though, that Mr. Boucicault is an Irish gentleman and loves his joke.... In this we perceive Mr. Boucicault’s preËminent skill. Nevertheless, the appearance of Octave Feuillet’s name upon the playbill would be noted with satisfaction. Mr. Boucicault should be aware that, by lapses of this kind, he arms his detractors and is unjust to himself....

Boucicault made his first appearance in San Francisco, at the California Theatre, on January 19, 1874 (the bill was “Boucicault in California,”—a weak sketch written for the occasion,—“Kerry,” and “Jones’s Baby”), and he arrived in that city, a few days earlier, not from Virginia City, but from Canada.

Belasco, meantime, was not established in Virginia City between December, 1872, and October, 1873: on the contrary, during most, if not all, of that time he was actively engaged in San Francisco (see my Chronology of his life). He disappears, however, from all the San Francisco records which I have been able to unearth after October 18, 1873, and I am satisfied that he then went to Virginia City, and there, several months later, met both Boucicault and Katharine Rodgers, when they were journeying eastward: Miss Rodgers first acted in

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From an old photograph. Belasco’s Collection.

KATHARINE RODGERS

San Francisco on February 3, 1874, at the California Theatre, in “Mimi.” It seems obvious that Boucicault could not have dictated “Led Astray” to Belasco, in Virginia City, at a time when neither of them was there, and after that play had been acted in New York. If any other theatrical antiquary, more fortunate than I, chances to possess authentic records that show Boucicault and Belasco in conjunction, in Virginia City, prior to about November 1, 1873, I should be glad to learn of them.

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