The Day the Laughter Stopped, page 24
With similar pressure, the women’s groups succeeded in getting the next hearing on the murder charge moved to a women’s court, thus assuring that they would get maximum priority seating. (The idea behind the women’s court was to allow women to give detailed testimony about sexual incidents under conditions which would minimize their embarrassment; thus all men were excluded from women’s court hearings except those present on official business.)
The women’s groups also organized the public laying out of Virginia Rappe at Halstead’s Undertakers, a move to ensure that public indignation would be kept at a high pitch.
If the women’s groups were implying that Roscoe, with all of his money, could buy his way out of a tight spot, others would suggest the same – and Matthew Brady presented himself as the brave district attorney who would fight moneyed criminals to the wall.
When the coroner’s jury recommended that Roscoe be tried for manslaughter, Henry ‘Pathé’ Lehrman sent the following telegram to Brady, who issued it for publication by the press:
For the sake of our God and justice to men, don’t let justice be cheated. It brought tears of rage into my eyes when I read your speech that influence and wealth are brought into play to bar justice. I cried because you told the truth in spite of the pressure of gold to stifle it. You are convinced from the facts, and I from knowing him that Arbuckle killed Virginia Rappe as a result of his attack, and I think, just to be able to boast, ‘Oh, I had her, too.’ Now, don’t let them cheat justice! For God’s sake, don’t! He is guilty. I held court with the facts known and my conscience convicted him.
The mayor of St Paul sent a similar wire, which Brady also issued for publication: ‘In the name of all decent people, I thank you for your earnest action in Arbuckle case. Latest reports indicate Arbuckle money is overcoming State testimony. Do not falter. Fight this to a finish. If Arbuckle is not punished the movie business is done, for decent people are tired of the eccentricities of genius. Go the limit and win praise of all good people.’
And Brady’s reply was published as well (the wires could have gone via Hearst papers): ‘Assure you and good people of St Paul that in spite of Arbuckle’s money and influence, the case will be prosecuted most vigorously. Depend upon me to do full duty as district attorney to thwart any attempt to defeat justice.’
While the ‘funniest man in the world’ sat in his cell, souvenir hunters stormed his Los Angeles home, which the press was calling ‘Arbuckle’s Historic Jazz Palace of Pleasure’.
It was clear, not only from the banning of his movies around the country, but from what people were saying officially, that Hollywood, in its fear and panic that this scandal would strengthen the movement towards censorship, was already inclined to throw Roscoe to the wolves. Frank Woods, of Famous Players-Lasky, and head of the Screenwriters Guild, was asked by a member of the Los Angeles City Council: ‘In your opinion, will producers use Roscoe Arbuckle in the pictures again, if he should be acquitted?’
Famous Players-Lasky was part of Paramount, Roscoe’s company, so Woods’s reply had special significance:
No, not unless there should be a complete vindication. I think his day is over. I do not think he will ever appear in pictures again, and it’s right that it should be so …
Poor, unfortunate Fatty Arbuckle has been his own worst enemy. He has been guilty of the worst of follies, the folly of trying to be a good fellow. But no-one of us that know him believe him to be guilty of intentional injury or assault of the girl. But public opinion has convicted him of being a loose-living man and a bad influence, and his motion picture plays have been removed from exhibition. Censors could not order their removal for they are clean, but the exhibitors have withdrawn them voluntarily.
Arbuckle made the mistake of thinking that in eating and drinking lay all the joy of life. As to his parties out at his house in Los Angeles, believe me, many prominent citizens would have been glad of an invitation and to have gone with their wives to those parties. Now that he is down, some of those same prominent citizens are jumping on him with hobnailed boots. I do not believe in prejudging.
The president of the Motion Pictures Directors Association, William Desmond Taylor, also joined the public debate on censorship: ‘I have listened with amazement to the charges of these ministers that we are debauching the morals of the youth of this city. We have not been cleaning house for very long, just a few months. In those few months we have cleaned house with a vengeance.’
A few months after Taylor made these remarks, he was murdered, and the investigation into his death and the surrounding circumstances revealed a lifestyle that would give moralists and club women a great deal to be indignant about.
Meanwhile, another central figure in the Labor Day party was to learn the meaning of this new kind of censorship – censorship not of the film, but of the actor’s life. At the time of Roscoe’s arrest, Lowell Sherman had expressed amazement; he couldn’t understand what the fuss was all about. On Thursday, 15 September, the day after the coroner’s jury decision, he learned what it was to mean to him personally. He had been contracted to star opposite Gloria Swanson in a big movie, but now Famous Players-Lasky announced that he had been released from the contract ‘at his own request’ – which was the first that Sherman knew about it. Within six months Sherman, a competent actor, found himself frozen out of the motion picture business, and was forced to declare bankruptcy.
The Rev. Neal Dodd, pastor of Hollywood’s Little Church Around the Corner, having said, ‘It is not for us to judge,’ advised his congregation: ‘I want to warn movie girls against the dangers of visiting men in their hotel rooms, the men clad in pyjamas and serving liquor … The real essence of this Arbuckle matter, however, is a general lowering of the moral standards in this country. The teaching of morality to children has gradually fallen off so that the situation is fraught with horrible results.’
From New York, Henry Lehrman cabled instructions to the San Francisco undertaker to ship the body of Virginia Rappe to Los Angeles for burial. With it were to go one thousand pink tiger lilies from Henry, and ‘Before you cover her sacred remains for ever, just lean over and whisper into her ear a little message. Tell her, “Henry said he still loves you.” She will hear.’
His floral tribute, which bore the words ‘To my brave sweetheart from Henry’, was impressive. So was the bill for it. Henry refused to pay and was eventually sued by the undertakers. Lehrman told New York reporters that he would not travel to LA for the funeral because he was ‘too busy’. In April 1922, two weeks after Roscoe Arbuckle’s ‘legal’ trials were over, Henry Lehrman drove to Santa Ana with his latest girl friend, Jocelyn Leigh. There they were married by Judge Cox, the man who had put Bebe Daniels in jail. Immediately after the wedding, Lehrman moved his bride into his Los Angeles bungalow, the one that he had so recently shared with Virginia Rappe.
While all around him was ceaseless activity, for Roscoe himself there were only a small cell and his own thoughts. On Thursday his lawyer, Charles Brennan, brought good news: he had been advised that the following day the DA would drop the murder charge and proceed with the grand jury indictment of manslaughter. This would mean bail for Roscoe. It was the best news he had heard since his return to San Francisco. But if he could have been an observer in the district attorney’s office that afternoon, his spirits would have soon sunk again.
Brady called a long conference involving his staff, the captain of detectives, and many other officials, to discuss which charge to proceed with. The majority of those present favoured proceeding with the grand jury indictment for manslaughter. There was not a scrap of evidence to justify proceeding with a murder charge. To file an information for murder and have it thrown out by the police court judge might seriously jeopardize their chances of success with the lesser charge. Brady saw the wisdom of this, but he wanted a murder trial. The DA was a politically ambitious man. If he could convict Arbuckle of murder, he could run a successful campaign for the governorship of California as ‘the man who cleaned up the movies’. But before Brady could reach those heady heights, Arbuckle had to be convicted of murder. And for that to happen, there had to be a murder trial. If at the lower court proceeding the police magistrate were to reject the prosecution’s evidence …
At 4.00 p.m. on Thursday, 15 September, an important discussion took place. The district attorney of San Francisco, Matthew Brady, called on Police Judge Sylvain Lazarus, the man who had been appointed to hear the committal proceedings on the murder charge.
DA Brady asked Judge Lazarus to guarantee that if the DA proceeded with the murder charge, the judge would hold Arbuckle to answer to that charge in the Superior Court. Before the judge had heard anything from the defence, before any witnesses testified or any evidence was presented, Brady wanted a commitment from the judge. ‘I want to file the charge of murder. I want you to guarantee to me now that you will hold Arbuckle to answer to that charge in Superior Court.’
Judge Lazarus asked the DA what evidence he had against Arbuckle to justify such a guarantee, and Brady enumerated the ‘facts’ against Roscoe Arbuckle. Before their meeting ended, Judge Lazarus had given the guarantee. Based on what he had heard, he assured the DA that he would hold Arbuckle to answer on the murder charge.
The evening papers announced that Arbuckle had received an anonymous death-threat letter. The same papers predicted that the following day the murder charge would be dismissed and Roscoe granted bail. So certain were Roscoe’s lawyers that he would be released that they booked two compartments on the ‘Lark’ express to assure Roscoe of a comfortable ride to Los Angeles. The $25,000 Pierce Arrow was still being held by Prohibition officials on the grounds that it might have been used to convey liquor illegally from Los Angeles to San Francisco.
Another member of the St Francis party was in the news that Thursday afternoon. Before Virginia Rappe’s death, her manager, Al Semnacher, had been in the process of getting a quiet divorce. Now anything any guest at that party did was news. The divorce proceedings had been halted so that Semnacher could be in San Francisco to give evidence. Newspapers reported that Al was suing for divorce because his wife had permitted another man to help her wash the dishes and wind the clock, and these ‘undue attentions’ to the other man had caused him mental anguish.
On Friday morning, 16 September, the Women’s Vigilant Committee packed the court of Judge Lazarus. Row after row was filled with middle-aged women dressed in black and carrying sandwiches to fortify themselves during what they thought would be a long day.
‘Case No. 5, continued calendar, Roscoe Arbuckle, charged with murder.’
Those words were the cue for Roscoe, flanked by his attorneys, to enter the court. Matthew Brady rose and said, ‘In the case of the people of the State against Roscoe Arbuckle, charged with murder, I may say that the people are ready.’
The words hit Roscoe like a thunderbolt. Frank Dominguez immediately rose to his feet and asked for a ten-day adjournment. After a brief argument, a six-day adjournment was granted. Stunned, Roscoe was hurried from the courtroom and returned to his cell.
Too much was happening too fast for Roscoe to comprehend. In San Francisco Bay lay the island of Alcatraz, soon to become the base for the most notorious maximum security prison in the world. As Roscoe sat in his cell, a cheerful guard stuck his head through the bars and called out, ‘Hey fat boy! Don’t you wish you were taking a ride to the island for the rest of your life instead of a trip to San Quentin?’
If Roscoe were found guilty, he would be executed at San Quentin.
Friday evening, 16 September, the district attorney authorized an examination of the suite at the St Francis. No act so clearly demonstrates the incompetence with which the Rappe case was investigated by Brady’s staff. Brady called in a man named E. O. Heinrich to examine Roscoe’s party suite for fingerprints. Heinrich ordered the rooms sealed – a full eleven days after the St Francis party, seven days after Virginia Rappe’s death, and six days after Roscoe’s arrest – a clear case of locking the stable door after the horse has bolted. Obviously, many people had had access to the rooms in the interim.
In one of the numerous articles it ran the day after Brady’s pronouncement, Hearst’s Los Angeles Examiner detailed what it called ‘Four Possible Verdicts Open in Actor’s Case’.
1. Murder in the first degree without recommendation by the jury calls for the death penalty.
2. Conviction on the charge of murder in the first degree with a recommendation by the jury, carries life imprisonment.
3. A verdict of murder in the second degree means an indeterminate sentence of one year to life imprisonment.
4. A verdict of manslaughter is punishable by imprisonment from one to ten years.
Nowhere did it mention a fifth possibility – acquittal.
In Thermopolis, Wyoming, the owner of the Maverick Theatre, despite protests from the local purity league, showed one of Roscoe’s movies. One hundred and fifty cowboys, some of them still on their horses, burst into the packed cinema and shot up the screen, then dragged the film out to the street and burned it. It turned out that the cinema manager had arranged the whole affair for publicity.
In Hollywood, Paramount writer Zelda Crosby was found dead in her apartment. Her suicide had nothing to do with Roscoe Arbuckle, but her mysterious death did nothing to stem the tide of anti-Hollywood feeling.
Organized religion wasn’t content that Roscoe’s films be burned; clergymen seemed to foresee his soul done to an eternal crisp as well. Preachers in Los Angeles competed for advertising space with other branches of Sunday show business. And on Sunday, 18 September, some of the pulpits offered stiff competition to the cinema:
‘The Arbuckle Booze Party. Shall We Censure All Movie People?’ (Temple Baptist)
‘Jungleman or Gentleman?’ (First M.E. of Hollywood)
‘The Unpardonable Sin’ (South Park Christian)
‘Rainbow Chasers’ (Westlake Presbyterian)
‘Moral Degeneration’ (First Congregational)
‘Movie Stars and the Ten Commandments’ (Immanuel Presbyterian)
‘Is Arbuckle a Sample or a Warning?’ (Westlake Methodist)
‘Is the Prohibition Amendment to the Constitution a Mistake?’ (Central Baptist)
‘Some Prohibition Problems – Wild parties and Debaucheries’ (Wilshire Blvd. Christian)
‘A Modern Daniel Among Lions’ (Wilshire Presbyterian)
The Rev. John Roach Straton attacked ‘moral infamy’ in New York, and his sermons were said to ‘surpass vaudeville’. Theatre managers loved to be attacked by him, as a pulpit attack increased box-office takings dramatically.
Roscoe was by now deluged with mail and cables from people all over the United States. Some of this was hate mail, but most of the letters were from people declaring their belief in his innocence. These people did not speak from church pulpits or fill the columns of Hearst papers with their views; they were just ordinary people. They were not moulders of public opinion, but part of the public whose opinion was being moulded by stories like this written for Hearst by someone named Lannie Haynes Martin:
FLOWERS BEDECK BIER OF ‘BEST-DRESSED GIRL’
Little Virginia Rappe, ‘the best-dressed girl in the movies’, whose up-to-the-minute clothes have been the admiration and the envy of thousands, wears today the oldest known garment in the world. It is a shroud.
Today her body lies in state, from 10 to 4 in the Strother and Dayton undertaking establishment on Hollywood Blvd. Tomorrow morning at 10.30 a simple burial service will be read by the Rev. Frank Rodenbush of St Stephen’s Church. Miss Everett Matoon and Miss Jessie Pease will render a few sweet and tender old-fashioned melodies, and then the remains of the girl whose death has shocked the nation will be placed in the Hollywood cemetery. Wrapped in her winding sheet of sheer white silk, a sheaf of dead white roses on her breast, her lips parted, showing her pearly teeth, there is still some of the old-time beauty and sweetness in her face, but the sparkle of her eyes, her chief charm, lies forever dimmed beneath her heavy lashes …
The piece ends:
… Today hundreds will pass through this flower-decked chapel and view the body. In that throng will be the kindly sympathetic, the friendly acquaintance, the screen worshipper, the merely morbidly curious. Will any of these remember another dead Virginia who lay in state in the Forum of Rome? The Virginia slain by the hand of her own father to save her from the rapacious embrace of the licentious Claudius? Will any pause and recall that the death of Virginia was the means of ending the corrupt saturnalia of ancient Rome, which is said to have had no parallel until the present day. Would not this dead girl now, whose every impulse is said to have been wholesome and kindly, whose life is said to have been given to defend her honour, would she not feel that her life and death had not been in vain if those who read her story would be influenced to saner, simpler living, would see as she saw at the end how furile it is to seek gaiety and pleasure which are not ‘within the law’.
With exquisite, albeit probably unconscious irony, the article began with two lines from Lays of Ancient Rome. Virginia Rappe, the ‘lay’ of modern Los Angeles, had now been sanctified by Emperor Hearst.
The club women of Chicago condemned Roscoe Arbuckle, saying that Virginia Rappe had been ‘made a martyr to the gay life of the film colony’. They demanded a federal investigation of Hollywood.
While eight thousand people filed past the body of Virginia Rappe at the Los Angeles funeral parlour, DA Brady went to the St Francis Hotel with a number of the female party guests, telling reporters that he was going to ‘get the lay of the land’. All week he claimed that the defence was tampering with witnesses. He invoked a grand jury hearing into the matter, but nothing of consequence came out about witness influencing.
