THE GOLDKNOPF TRIAL A UNIQUE DEMONSTRATION.

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The trial of the Goldknopf action against Belasco, based on the pretence that “The Woman” was plagiarized from “Tainted Philanthropy; or, The Spirit of the Time,” was begun, July 31, 1912, with a hearing before Commissioner Gilchrist, at

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DAVID BELASCO

From a photograph by Arnold Genthe.
Author’s Collection.

the Federal building, New York, and it proceeded, the Hon. George C. Holt, Justice, presiding, in the United States Circuit Court, on August 5. It was established by sworn testimony that Goldknopf’s “play” was submitted by him to the Belasco Play Bureau in May, 1910, and that under date of July 10 Mr. Henry Stillman, the play reader of that bureau, wrote to Goldknopf a letter in which he said:

“Mr. Belasco has gone away for the summer. I sent your play to him, two or three days after reading it myself. He returned it to me to-day. While he was interested in reading it, it is not quite adapted to his present requirements. Will you please call for the manuscript?”

Mr. William C. De Mille testified that after the production of “The Warrens of Virginia,” in January, 1908, he had suggested to Belasco that if they could “throw up a good heart story against the general background of political ‘graft’ it would make a good play”; that Belasco had been favorably impressed by the suggestion, and that a contract had been entered into between them, in that year, for the writing of such a play,—several drafts of which, bearing different titles (“The Princess of the Wire,” “The Machine,” “1035, Plaza,” etc.), were made before the final one was put into rehearsal. It also was established that Mr. De Mille had read his play to friends,—among them Professor John Erskine, of Columbia University,—in 1908.

Belasco corroborated Mr. De Mille; specified that he had instructed Mr. Stillman “to be kind to aspiring dramatists,” which fact he surmised “might account for the courteous tone of his note to” Goldknopf; testified that he had never seen the manuscript of “Tainted Philanthrophy” prior to July 31, 1912, and had not even heard of it until the suit was started. Then, becoming exasperated, he exclaimed: “I am heartily sick of being sued by nurserymaids, waiters, and barbers every time I bring out a new piece, and I should like very much to give a performance of both these plays before your Honor, in the fall.” To this startling proposal Judge Holt assented, remarking that he could doubtless have the merits of the case better placed before him by witnessing both the plays in representation than by merely reading them,—adding: “But it will be very expensive for you to have the case decided in this way, will it not?” To this inquiry Belasco replied: “Yes, sir; it will cost me about $5,000, but I want to show these unknown authors, once and for all, that they cannot come into the courts and attack every successful production I make without submitting their plays to a comparison that will dispose of their claims very quickly.” On Belasco engaging himself to provide as good a cast for “Tainted Philanthropy” as that with which he was presenting “The Woman,” his proposal was accepted by counsel for Goldknopf.

The comparative performances were given, November 26, at the Belasco Theatre, in the presence of Judge Holt and invited audiences—Belasco desiring that as many journalists and members of his own profession as possible might see for themselves the shameful injustice to which he was subjected by the charge of plagiarism. “The Woman,” which was then filling an engagement at the Grand Opera House, New York, was acted first, beginning at eleven o’clock in the morning. After an interval of an hour “Tainted Philanthropy” was presented, “exactly as written,”—manuscript copies of both plays having been submitted to the court in order to make impossible any dispute on grounds of alleged changes during representation. The Goldknopf fabrication proved to be the veriest farrago of impalliable trash,—and, as it was performed with absolute sincerity by conscientious and capable actors, it became ludicrous in the extreme. On November 29, Judge Holt rendered his decision, finding, necessarily, that there is no plagiarism from “Tainted Philanthropy” in “The Woman.” The chief parts in the former were cast thus:

Mrs. Elizabeth Dalton Teresa Maxwell-Conover.
Grace Dalton Helen Freeman.
Theodore Thompson Milton Sills.
Jack Bud Joseph Kilgour.
John Watts Albert Bruning.
Harold Dalton Eugene O’Brien.
A Bellevue Doctor Harry C. Browne.
Attendants James Grove.
Mark Powers.
Servant Judith Snaith.

The following letter on the subject of the Goldknopf accusations gave Belasco much satisfaction:

(The Society of American Dramatists and Composers to David Belasco.)

“New York, November 27, 1912.

“Dear Mr. Belasco:—

“At a special meeting of the Board of Directors of The Society of American Dramatists, held immediately after witnessing the performances of ‘The Woman’ and ‘Tainted Philanthropy,’ a resolution was passed congratulating and thanking you for your splendid work in behalf of the dramatists of America in having called the attention of the public and the press to the efforts of irresponsible writers and lawyers against authors and producers of successful plays. We are of the opinion that these ‘strike’ suits, having no basis or ground for legal action, are a great hardship to the professional dramatist, and [that] the attention of the Bar Association should be called to this particular suit as an aggravated instance of sharp practice and unwarranted attack on the dramatist’s name and pocket.

“Yours most sincerely,
Charles Klein,
“Secretary.”

In his decision Judge Holt said:

“This suit is to restrain the [alleged] infringement of a copyright.... Both pieces have been presented by experienced and skilful actors, with excellent scenery and stage appointments. I have carefully read the manuscripts of each play and have seen the representations of them.... In my opinion the proof wholly fails to establish the charge. There is nothing to prove, or to suggest, such a comparison of the two plays—that ‘The Woman’ was copied from ‘Tainted Philanthropy,’ or that any part of the one was taken from any part of the other. There is nothing to indicate that either the words, the ideas, or the plot of the defendant’s play were suggested by complainant’s play. The two plays, in my opinion, are wholly dissimilar, and I see no ground whatever for the charge that one infringed the copyright of the other in any particular. There should be a decree for the defendants, dismissing the bill on the merits, with costs.”

Final judgment to that effect was entered March 3, 1913. Belasco’s unique demonstration of the shameful injustice of the Goldknopf charge, however, cost him $5,700. Writing on the subject of this suit and of the performances offered in evidence in it, he has said:

“A lawsuit charging plagiarism is an expensive affair, even though the accused manager may win. Because of this, a compromise is frequently effected. There are many unscrupulous people who make a business of submitting impossible manuscripts in order to bring suits when a successful play is produced. Others keep long lists of registered titles, with the same idea in mind. Thousands of dollars have been paid by American authors and producers to end these blackmail suits, because they are more cheaply settled out of court. I have never yielded to this swindle,—and I never will.... My actors played ‘Tainted Philanthropy’ beautifully, and I gave it a dignified setting. It was a case of ‘Look here, upon this picture, and on this!’ The audience laughed at ‘Tainted Philanthropy’ until the theatre echoed.... I think it was the first instance in the history of American jurisprudence when a judge adjourned court to go to the theatre for the day, as a matter of legal duty....

“As a result of this wretched, contemptible suit, and others like it, I discontinued my Play Bureau, which I had established several years previously to encourage young American dramatic authors. I have produced more plays by such authors than any two other managers, and I wanted to help them further. My Bureau cost me from $15,000 to $20,000 a year to maintain and never paid me a cent, though sometimes as many as 100 plays were received through it in a single day. When I realized that instead of helping young authors it was merely helping blackmailers to attack me as a plagiarist, I closed it up.”

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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