Chapter VI: Act V: (A lapse of years.) During the Revolution (3)

In the course of the revel the blind princess, _Adrea_, passes, led by an Egyptian named _Garda_, on her way to the temple, in which she is to be secluded, so that her presence at court may not trouble her sister _Julia_, whom the people of the kingdom detest. It is premised that in Arcady, where _Adrea_ had dwelt with her father, she had known and loved _Kaeso_, then one of the _King’s_ martial chieftains, and that he had sworn to marry her, but had proved faithless. Now, at the _Princess Julia’s_ festival, _Kaeso_ and _Adrea_ meet again, and _Kaeso_ kindly greets the blind girl. This enrages the _Princess Julia_, who thereupon commands him to declare to _Adrea_ that he does not love her, but loves her sister _Julia_. This cruelty he must commit, as the price of the kingdom. He submits; the imperious _Julia_ leads her train away; and he is left alone with _Adrea_, to whom he discloses himself, and who receives him with the deepest tenderness of faithful love. To her his presence can mean only that he has come to keep his oath by marrying her. _Kaeso_ forgets _Julia_, his ambitions--everything but the woman who has come into his arms. The watchful _Princess Julia_, apprised by a spy, the _Court Fool_,--_Mimus_, _the Echo_,--returns to see the lovers in their ecstasy of reconciliation, and she at once determines on a terrible revenge. _Kaeso_, seeing _Julia_, starts away from _Adrea_, and _Mimus_, who madly loves the blind princess, takes his place. This _Mimus_ happens to be in an armor like that of _Kaeso_, which he has put on in a frolic; and when _Adrea_ reaches to find _Kaeso_ her hands touch _Mimus_, and she eagerly claims him, believing him to be her plighted lover. “And you shall marry him!” says the _Princess Julia_; grimly adding, as a response to _Kaeso’s_ look of horror: “It is the price of Adrea!”

A lapse of five hours is supposed. The scene is the same. The time is near dawn. Soldiers are on guard. Challenges pass. Rumors have been heard of ill to the beloved _Princess Adrea_. _Kaeso’s_ lieutenant, _Arkissus_, devoted to _Adrea_, has heard these rumors, and he demands an explanation of them from the now drunken and frenzied _Kaeso_. They quarrel, and are about to fight, when a fearful cry is heard and they halt. Then, staggering down the palace steps, moaning in agony, comes the _Princess Adrea_, alone. Her prayer, like that of Ajax, is for light. She beseeches the gods to grant her one moment of sight, so that she may see the man to whom she has been given. The _Fool_ enters, to drag her away,--for the _Princess Julia_, now _Queen_, has decreed banishment of _Adrea_ and the _Fool_, and they must leave her kingdom before the dawn. There is an ominous roll of thunder. The _Fool_ seizes _Adrea_. Suddenly the heavens seem to answer her agonized supplication. A bolt of lightning shatters the statue of her father, to which she has been clinging, and there is an instant of darkness. When the light is restored, a chaos stands revealed, in which _Princess_ and _Fool_ are prostrated. _Adrea_ revives, and, with a wild cry, realizes that she can see. Soon she remembers, and gazing down upon a “painted, hideous, gibbering thing, in red and white,” she knows him for the _Fool_, who has been described to her. She lifts his limp body and stares at his vacant eyes: then she drops it and whispers, in horror: “Gods! _You!_”

The action now shifts to a structure called “The Tower of Forgetfulness.” To this _Adrea_ goes, not thinking to take her throne, but only wishing to die, and thus bury her shame. The Tower of Forgetfulness is an obelisk of great antiquity, built half on the land and half on the sea. Its door is never closed. Here the wretch who is weary of life can drink “the cup of oblivion,” and, through “the door of release,” sink into the sea, and be at rest. It is _Adrea’s_ purpose to die. Then suddenly she hears the royal trumpets, the marriage song, and _Kaeso’s_ song of battle. At the same moment her father’s ghost appears and enjoins her to reign, for vengeance. Looking down upon the ocean, she beholds _Kaeso_ and _Julia_, who are returning to the palace, after their marriage. They are in her father’s royal galley, with his effigy at the prow. “Stop them!” commands _Adrea_. “Bring my father’s galley here! Say that _Queen Adrea_, rides to her coronation!” _Arkissus_ appears with his legions, and executes her will.

The coronation of _Adrea_ ensues. _Kaeso_ is brought before her, in order that he may sue for pardon--which the heart of the injured _Queen_ is ready to grant. But _Kaeso_ is haughty, and the _Queen_ dismisses her court, that she may judge him alone. She is temperate, lenient, and fond. She pours out all her heart; but it is only to be dazed by _Kaeso’s_ declaration that his regret is solely for his lost ambition. He tells her that he knew of her spoliation, and allowed it. The _Queen_ recalls her court. “Set him upon a horse of state,” she says, “drest in a robe of gold. Strew his way with roses! Let heralds go before him and cry ‘Conqueror!’ ‘Imperator!’ Let maidens chant songs! And when he has reached my gates, and his men and galleys are in sight,--_whip him!_ Whip him to his empty camp, and hold him captive there till the manner of his death is decided.”

The scene changes to the _Queen’s_ Cabinet. _Kaeso_ is brought in on the way to execution. It is the supreme moment of _Adrea’s_ life. The man she loves is on the way to death. In spite of all her wrongs she will look upon his face again, before it is mangled by wild horses’ hoofs. Her heart still cries out for him. Even now she would save him, if she could. But frenzied multitudes surround the palace, maddened with knowledge of the outrages that the _Queen_ has suffered; and she is powerless to save. _Queen Adrea_ must tell _Kaeso_ the manner of his death. _Kaeso_ had thought to die as a soldier should--upon his sword, but his death is to be that of a beast, trampled beneath the iron hoofs of horses. This fate she proclaims, but, when the first shock of horror is past, _Kaeso_ confesses that he deserves his doom, and declares that he will die well: and then he says that he has always loved _Adrea_, but has put his love aside, for the sake of his ambition. Again the _Queen_ relents. She will, at least, save him from a death of ignominy. She offers him the sword of _Menethus_, with which to kill himself. But his hands are chained. “You!” he begs. The thought is unendurable. She turns away. But suddenly, turning back, she cries out, “Yes!” and drives the blade through her lover’s heart.

The scene changes to Arcady. Eight years have passed. _Queen Adrea_ has come to Arcady, and there she would remain at rest. But her people call her back to Adrea. The stanch _Arkissus_,--who has always loved her, whose one thought is of duty, and whose duty is to obey,--brings the prayer of her subjects that she will return and rule over them. But here are green fields, summer skies, and the shepherds and their pastoral music: it is a halcyon place and time; and she would remain, and linger, and die here, and rest beneath the sod that she and her first lover once trod together. A trumpet sounds, and a captive youth is brought into her presence. He is the son of _Kaeso_ and _Julia_, and he has sought the throne of _Adrea_. He is vanquished, and his mother, _Julia_, has been slain. But there are tears in _Queen Adrea’s_ eyes, as she looks upon him, and her arms open to him--for he has the port and lineaments of _Kaeso_. The _Queen_ and the captive play a game,--“the Game of Being King.” _Adrea_ places the youth on her throne, sets her crown on his head, puts her sceptre into his hands, throws her ermine on his shoulders, and bids him “Reign in love.” “Open the casement,” cries the captive boy, “Let in the sun, if you play fair and set no trap for me!” “At the King’s command,” she answers; and in those words ordains her fate, for _Adrea_ cannot again look upon the sun without loss of her vision. She flings the casement wide open, and, in the sudden blaze of light, goes blind: then, when the agony is past and night has come again, she staggers to the throne and cries, “Long live the King!” For still the law of succession is inexorable,--and so _Prince Vasha_ reigns, and _Adrea_ is once more only _Adrea of Arcady_.

No student of Roman history needs to be told that among the women of Rome (and at one time all Italy was circumscribed within the capital) there were females illustrious for almost celestial virtues and females portentous for the monstrosity of their hideous crimes. The authors of “Adrea” neither distorted nature nor exaggerated fact in their portraiture of the two princesses, _Adrea_ and _Julia_, who are opposed and contrasted in this remarkable drama of love, crime, frenzy, retribution, atonement, and peace. _Adrea_ is not nobler or more virtuous than Valentinian’s Eudoxia, nor is _Julia_ more malignant, treacherous, and cruel than Justinian’s Theodora. In this tragedy the purpose, obviously, was to present, amid regal accessories and in all the paraphernalia of semi-barbaric splendor, a woman of lofty mind, potent character, and impetuous passions, and, by making her the victim not alone of blighted affection but of deadly outrage, to involve her in a complex tangle of torment; to make her terrible in the delirium of exasperated feeling; to display her emotional perturbation and fierce and ferocious conduct in a vortex of tempestuous struggle; and, finally, to depict her noble expiatory conquest of herself, and to leave her, in her lonely majesty, a sublime image of triumphant virtue, gentle fortitude, and patient grief. That purpose has been superbly accomplished. To superficial observers, indeed, the presentment of “Adrea” appealed chiefly by reason of its implication of theatrical situation, its startling effects of climax, and its gorgeous scenic investiture. To thoughtful minds it came home as an illuminative and significant exposition of human nature, artfully made through the medium of a wonderful picture of human life in the antique world,--and in that it reached much further than merely to the fulfilment of any immediate theatrical need. Like the more classic dramatists of the Garrick era, its authors drew their inspiration from the great fountain of historic antiquity--adjusting, rearranging, and emphasizing old types and old examples to exhibit actually (and not by any dubious method of old symbolism) what is in our own hearts and of what fibre we are all made. Their play is an honor to them, and it is a rich and permanent addition to the literature of the Stage.

Mrs. Carter impersonated _Adrea_, and finding in it a part into which she could entirely liberate all her emotional power, without losing control of it, she rose to the occasion. She had hitherto acted in comedy, “sensation,” or sentimental, drama. The character of _Adrea_ is wholly tragic. Through the wide range of conflicting emotions implicated in her experience--the misery of blindness and loss of royal inheritance, the ignominy of desertion by her idolized lover and of betrayal into the lewd embraces of an odious menial, the paroxysm of anguish when, to save her lover from a death of horror and shame decreed by herself, she strikes him dead, and the humility of surrender when, after years of bleak remembrance, she invites again the black eclipse and forlorn disablement of blindness and delivers her kingdom to the rule of her slaughtered lover’s son--Mrs. Carter moved firmly, steadily, triumphantly,--commanding every situation and rising to every climax. No denotement in Mrs. Carter’s acting of _Du Barry_ had even remotely indicated such depth of tragical feeling and such power of dramatic expression as she revealed in the scenes of the tempest, in pronouncing _Kaeso’s_ doom, and, above all, in the terrible, piteous, tragic self-conflict through which the Woman became the incarnation of Fate and the Minister of Death. Mrs. Carter had long been known for her exceptional facility of feminine blandishment, her command of the enticing wiles of coquetry and the soft allurement of sensuous grace,--known, likewise, and rightly admired for the clarity and purity of her English speech, always delightful to hear: but observers studious to see and willing to be convinced had not supposed her to be an actor of tragedy. It took a long time for Belasco to bring her to a really great victory, but she gained it in _Adrea_. The impersonation possessed many attributes of beauty: symmetry, for the eye; melody, for the ear; unity, continuity, sincerity, and sustainment, for the critical sense; poetic atmosphere, for the imagination; but it possessed one supreme attribute of terror,--absolute knowledge of human misery. “Look into your heart, and write,” is an old poetic precept. “Look into your heart, and act” ought to be joined with it: but God pity the heart into which the true poet and the true actor must sometimes look!

“Adrea” was first performed in Washington, D. C., on December 26, 1904, and in New York on January 11, 1905,--at the first Belasco Theatre. The following is the original cast of that play:

_Kaeso of Noricum_ Charles A. Stevenson. _Arkissus of Frisia_ Tyrone Power. _Marcus Lecca_ R. D. McLean. _Holy Nagar_ H. R. Roberts. _Mimus, the Echo_ J. H. Benrimo. _Bevilaccas_ Claude Gillingwater. _Caius Valgus_ Marshall Welch. _Sylvestros_ Gilmore Scott. _Dyaixes_ Louis Keller. _Bram-Bora_ Edward Brigham. _Marlak_ H. R. Pomeroy. _Master of the Tower_ H. G. Carlton. _Servant of the Tower_ Gerald Kelly. _The Shade of Menethus_ Charles Hungerford. _Thryssos_ Francis Powers. _Idmondus_ Gordon West. _A Mock Herald_ Arthur Maryatt. _Crassus_ Edwin Hardin. _Herald of the Senate_ Franklin Mills. _Page of the Senate_ Harold Guernsey. _A Bargeman_ Luther Barry. _Zastus_ Teft Johnson. _Galba_ Harry Sheldon. _Sigrad_ Charles Wright. _Var-Igon_ F. L. Evans. _Slave of the Whips_ James H. George. _Slave of the Queen’s Door_ Joseph Moxler.

Photograph by Byron. Belasco’s Collection. ]

_The Child Vasha_ (in the epilogue) Louis Grimm. _Julia Doma_ Edith Crane. _Garda_ Maria Davis. _Myris_ Corah Adams-Myll. _Lefta_ Lura Osborn. _Lelit_ Grace Noble. _A Singing Bird_ Madeleine Livingston. _Adrea_ Mrs. Leslie Carter.

Coincident with his production of “Adrea” Belasco’s fight for freedom in the conduct of his business reached a climax that attracted nation-wide and wondering attention and enlisted the sympathetic assistance of eminent members of the national legislature. Whenever possible, subsequent to his successful presentment of “The Heart of Maryland” in Washington (October, 1895), Belasco has elected to bring out his new plays in that city. There he desired to launch what was in some ways the most ambitious venture of his career,--and there, accordingly, after overcoming every obstacle that could be thrown in his way, he first made known the tragedy of “Adrea.” But before narrating the manner in which that production was effected it is desirable here to make somewhat particular exposition of the antagonism he was compelled to encounter and to record the significance of his long and costly conflict with it.

BELASCO AND THE THEATRICAL SYNDICATE.

JUSTICE AND THEATRICAL ACHIEVEMENT.

David Belasco has served the Public and the Theatre, ably and brilliantly, in several fields and for many years, but his achievements as at once theatre manager, stage manager, playwriter, instructor, and “producer,” splendid and admirable as incontestably they have been and are, have been equalled by other American managers, of earlier date. In writing Biography it is prudent to remember that “there were heroes before Agamemnon.” Much was accomplished on the American Stage long before the advent of either David Belasco or any other theatrical administrator of recent times, and when we review the history of the drama in America for more than a hundred years, and consider the managers by whom it has been fostered, conserved, and directed, we should recall and honor the names,--among others,--of William Dunlap, the elder Warren, William Wood, Francis Courtney Wemyss, James H. Caldwell, Noah Ludlow, Edmund Simpson, Charles Gilfert, the elder Hackett, the elder Wallack, William Evans Burton, and Thomas Barry,--each of whom, in his day, deserved theatrical eminence and gained it, and all of whom seem now to be forgotten. Lester Wallack, who long preceded Belasco, and who also was theatre manager, stage manager, playwriter, and actor,--and as actor with no superior and scarce an equal in his peculiar realm,--gained laurels which will long endure. John T. Ford, Boucicault, Barrett, McCullough, Edwin Booth, and John S. Clarke,--all were accomplished and highly successful and distinguished in every branch of theatrical management; and, although Belasco has written his name imperishably on the honorable scroll of dramatic renown, he has not eclipsed those eminent predecessors.

BELASCO’S UNIQUE SERVICE TO THE THEATRE.

In one service, however, that Belasco has rendered to the Theatre and the Public he is peculiarly a benefactor, and in doing that service he has encountered an antagonism and prevailed in adverse circumstances with which the elder theatrical managers never had to contend. It would be difficult to over-estimate the value of his intrepid opposition to the tyrannical monopoly known as “The Theatrical Syndicate.” His conflict with that arrogant, oppressive, pernicious organization, sustained through a period of about twelve years, and finally victorious, required unfaltering courage, tenacious purpose, skilful and prompt action, and tireless persistence. It exacted from him prodigious labor; it entailed upon him great expense and loss, and it compelled an expenditure of time and strength which, if he had been left free to devote it to his artistic labor, would have been productive of lasting benefit to the Drama. But the sacrifice was well made, because the Theatre and the Public profited by it,--as, earlier, and concurrently, they profited by the resolute contest against the Syndicate (a valiant and gallant fight for freedom and justice) waged by Harrison Grey Fiske and Minnie Maddern Fiske. It should be noted that Augustin Daly, Belasco’s immediate predecessor in the primacy of theatrical management in America,--who, also, was theatre manager, stage manager, playwriter, and “producer,” and who was consummate as an executive,--being assailed by the Syndicate (as he several times declared to me), became one of its active opponents and resisted its aggressions: but Daly, who died before its despotic power had become matured, had long been an established, powerful manager before it was formed, so that it could not do him much harm. Belasco, on the contrary, was constrained to fight his way to independence and influence against its active, relentless opposition and inveterate hostility, from almost the beginning of his career in theatrical management.

WHAT ARE WE DISCUSSING?

In the period of about sixteen years preceding 1912 the newspaper press of America published many thousands of columns, often critical, at times strongly censorious, about the “Trust” or monopoly which commonly is known as “The Theatrical Syndicate.” Bitter fights likewise have been waged not only in the press but in the courts relative to that organization. The public has, from time to time, manifested interest in the subject,--as, for example, relative to Mrs. Fiske’s appearance in all sorts of unsuitable places, because the Syndicate had “barred” her from the regular and (as they are technically styled) “first-class” theatres, and to Mme. Bernhardt’s enforced performances in a circus tent, for the same reason, and, especially, to Belasco’s almost preterhuman efforts to present his plays in Washington (from which city strenuous efforts were made by the Syndicate to exclude him). Yet I believe that the public knowledge of the Syndicate,--its origin, aims, character, policy, conduct, and effect,--has never been more than superficial.

THE SYNDICATE-INCUBUS DEFINED.

What _is_ “The Theatrical Syndicate,” and _why_ should it rightfully be denounced and opposed as a pernicious institution?

The Theatrical Syndicate, primarily, was a partnership of six men, all speculative theatrical managers, formed for the purpose of dominating, for the pecuniary profit, advantage, and personal aggrandizement of its members, the theatrical business of America, and of doing this by methods some of which, in their practical operation, are morally iniquitous, and should be, if they are not, legally preventable, in the public interest.

Those six men were: Al. (Albert) Hayman (deceased 1916), Charles Frohman (deceased 1915), Marc Klaw, and Abraham Lincoln Erlanger, all of New York; and Samuel F. Nirdlinger (known as Nixon) and J. Frederick Zimmermann, both of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The contract under which those persons formed their copartnership and carried on their syndicate business was made in August, 1896, and it was renewed, in substance, in April, 1900.

SPECIOUS PRETENSIONS TO JUSTIFY THE INCUBUS.

The founders of the Theatrical Syndicate have, with much fulsome commendation of themselves and their purposes, directly or by implication, sought to justify the position they have assumed by specious assurances substantially to this effect:

That the theatrical business of America was disorganized, unstable, and, in general, so conducted as to entail loss on many or most persons engaged in it, by reason of _competition_, poor judgment, and lack of discrimination in its transactions; that the prevalent administration of it was not favorable to the development of actors and the promotion of the art of the Theatre; that their combination was made to cure, and that it did cure, the defects of theatrical business, stabilize it and render it reputable and responsible,--placing it, in this respect, on a level with other business; and that, incidentally, it would, and did, tend to prosper the means whereby the Theatre must live--namely, Acting and the exhibition of Acting. A. L. Erlanger, executive of the Booking Department of this organization (that is, of the firm of Klaw & Erlanger, the particular business of which was, and is, to “book,” _i.e._, to arrange, the tours of theatrical companies), has thus stated a part of his views relative to the character and doings of the Syndicate:

“The American [theatrical] manager of to-day is _unique_,
_contrasting_ him with the _managers of long ago_, and that still
exist in England, France, and elsewhere, in that _he_ is
_qualified_ and _experienced_ in staging _all kinds_ of theatrical
entertainments.... As for the question of Commercialism _versus_
Art in Stage matters, I cannot see where the fact that financial
solvency, _making the business of the theatrical world comparable_
in its _integrity_ with that found in other occupations, lessens
the artistic value of the question [_sic_]. No actor will act the
worse because he knows his salary will be paid promptly; and the
fact that the business of the theatres is conducted on _firm lines_
is calculated to encourage, rather than dismay, the actor, the
dramatist, and everybody else whose interest in the Stage is
primarily artistic.”

In support of those views and in advocacy of the Syndicate of which he was an active member the late Charles Frohman wrote (“The New York Herald,” March 13, 1910): “Several men united to systematize the conduct of the Theatre, _put the actor’s profession on a self-respecting footing_, guard the playwright against piracy, protect the managers of theatrical companies against unfair competition [_i.e._, competition not profitable to the members of the Syndicate.--W. W.], at the same time obliging them _to keep faith_ with managers of theatres.”

A third voucher for the exalted integrity and far-reaching beneficence of the methods exemplified in the operations of the Syndicate was furnished by Charles Burnham, at that time manager of Wallack’s Theatre, not himself a member of the benign brotherhood, but obviously congenial with it, and President of “The Theatrical Managers’ Association,” a society which the Syndicate practically dominated:

“The commercialism of the drama,” so said that manager, “_has
justified itself...._ The Theatre of to-day is no Chicago
University or Carnegie Library. If you look after the _financial
end_ of the Drama, _which is the main thing_, the public may be
trusted to maintain a high standard.”

TENDENCY TO COMBINATION IN MODERN BUSINESS.

An honest, just, equitable organization of business is always right, and no one but a fool or a knave would ever question the legality or propriety of it. The drift of the present age, in commercial affairs, is, and for a considerable time has been, toward combination, organization--in a word, _efficiency_. Business men of the United States, little by little, have awakened to the imperative necessity of conservation of energy and resources, systematic labor, economy; the sensible use of every force that tends to the advancement of civilization, the increase of public prosperity, and the diffusion of intelligence. One of those forces is the Theatre, and it is one of prodigious influence. No intelligent observer acquainted with its history would maintain that its condition, particularly as a business institution, has ever been perfect or is perfect now. It is certain, however, that its commercial condition has, within the last half-century, very considerably improved, because not only have the ban of the Church and the stigma of Society been, to a large extent, removed from it, but great wealth has been bestowed on its enhancement, and expert executive talent has sometimes been enlisted in the management of its affairs.

CAUSES OF THEATRICAL PROGRESS.

It was not a commercial manager of the Syndicate type who first urged the efficient management of the Theatre; it was an idealistic critic and a great poet. Many years ago that ripe scholar and accomplished man-of-letters Matthew Arnold exclaimed, in one of his Essays, “The Theatre is irresistible--_organize_ the Theatre!” Arnold, as a youth, had been entranced by the acting of Mlle. Rachel, and as a man had naturally been charmed by the acting and greatly influenced by the propulsive reformatory and constructive theatrical administration of that great actor and theatrical manager Henry Irving. It is from such sources of thought and of intellectual energy as Arnold and Irving, in England, and as Wallack, Booth, and Daly, in America,[1] that the impulse properly to organize the Theatre has proceeded; not from the mere money-grubbing schemes of monopolistic cliques or speculators in public amusement. Members of such cliques,--of which the Theatrical Syndicate is one,--are, at times, frank enough to admit that (as they are fond of expressing it) they are not engaged in theatrical business “for their health,” and undoubtedly they are within their rights when they seek, _by fair means_, to make their business profitable. So much is understood and conceded: who would deny it? Monopolies, however, frequently pose as public benefactors, and such, as already shown, is the pose assumed by the Theatrical Syndicate. Many persons have, in one way or another, been deceived by it, or brought to approve it. In 1898, beginning to be conscious, in my critical and editorial work on “The New York Tribune,” of an oppugnant influence emanant, apparently, from that source, I determined to have a clear understanding with the late Donald G. Nicholson, then the editor of that paper, and I formally asked him whether “The Tribune” favored or opposed the Syndicate. In reply I received from him the assurance that “of course ‘The Tribune’ _opposed_ it,” and also I received a printed list of newspapers which, Mr. Nicholson informed me, had explicitly declared their opposition to the Syndicate as being an unjust organization, hurtful to the Theatre and adverse to the public interest. That list contained the names of most of the leading journals of our country. But--“There are no birds in last year’s nest.” Most of the opposers of the Syndicate seem, like the _Witches_ in “Macbeth,” to have “made themselves air, into which they vanished.” Active opposition to that incubus in the press is, at present, conspicuous chiefly by its absence.

The pretensions of the Syndicate are one thing: its proceedings are quite another. Equitable conduct has not been the spring of its prosperity. Not by fair means has it become rich and powerful. Aside from having somewhat facilitated the making possible of economically practical routes over the country for travelling companies and the transaction of business between resident theatrical managers and representatives of travelling companies, it has done, literally, nothing for the good of the Theatre; but it has done everything for the good of itself. It is not to be supposed, for example, that because the making of economical routes is _feasible_ through the booking agency of the Syndicate, once such routes have been booked they are inviolate. “Dates” are cancelled and “routes” are changed, when such change is requisite to the advantage of the Syndicate, with total disregard of any other consideration. “Where,” exclaimed Gladstone, “can you lay a finger on the map of Europe and say, ‘Here Austria did good’?” Where can you lay a finger on the map of progress in the Theatre in America and truthfully say, “Here the Syndicate did good”?

THE RIGHT PRINCIPLE.

That the Theatre, to exist, must be self-sustaining; that its administration “must show a profit,” is a proposition so elementary in its truth and so universally conceded that it would be folly to restate it, if there were not so much stupidity in the generally attempted exposition of Commercialism in Art. But as a matter of right and duty (and this is what, apparently, the Syndicate and congenial managers _cannot comprehend_), theatrical managers are under distinct obligation to consider the public good _before_ they consider their individual prosperity. In other words, when a man assumes to make use of one of the fine arts as a means of “doing business,” he assumes to wield an indirect educational power; he undertakes,--whether he knows it or not, whether he means to do so or not,--to affect the public taste, the public thought, and the public morals. Therein, accordingly, he assumes a responsibility much broader and much more important than that which is incurred in an ordinary “business” pursuit; and, as it happens, he assumes it under less restriction, by law, as to the possible effect of his conduct than is imposed on the speculator in almost any other “business.”

THE OBLIGATION OF INTELLECT.

Obligation of honesty and honor rests with equal force on all workers in all branches of industry: but it is one thing to sell boots or pickles, and another thing to disseminate thoughts and emotions. The more a man ascends in the scale of labor the more exacting becomes his duty to Society. A writer of novels, for example,--a Scott, a Dickens, a Thackeray, a Cooper, or a Collins,--might, perhaps, find the largest amount of personal emolument in writing stories calculated to vitiate taste, injure public thought and public morals, and thus debase the community, but, if he wrote such books, he would be a criminal, and it would be no defence for him to say that he made money by his crime, or to allege that because he made money the public approved of his actions. Intellectual men have _no right_ to make money by misusing their powers. The same sense of rectitude,--but broader, higher, finer,--that bids an honest tradesman sell nothing that will injure the buyer enjoins upon the worker in the arts that he should consider not merely the payment he is to receive for his work, but the effect of that work upon the lives and destinies of the human beings to whom it is addressed and whom it is likely to influence. Theatrical managers stand in that position toward the public. Thoughts and feelings are the wares in which they deal, and, much as they are bound to consider financial profit (because they have heavy burdens of expense to carry), they are also solemnly bound, first and most of all, to consider the taste, the morals, and the intellectual advancement of the community. The manager who aims at monetary gain as the first and dominant object of his ambition and endeavor, to the exclusion of all higher purpose, is a disgrace to his profession and an enemy to social welfare. To him, as to the _Weird Sisters_, “fair is foul and foul is fair.”

There are many vocations in which little is to be considered above the till. No person is _compelled_ to assume the management of a theatre or the direction,--invariably of potent force,--of an educational, influential art. If he deliberately chooses such occupation and does assume it, he assumes it with all its inherent responsibilities,--and the greatest of these is moral and intellectual duty. No mistake more foolish or more culpable could be made than to regard this standard of conduct and responsibility as visionary, impracticable, or what this deplorably slang-ridden community flippantly mentions as “highbrow stuff.” No strenuosity of asseveration from theatrical janitors, “Great Moguls,” “Napoleons of the Theatre,” bullies or gamblers, flatulent with the wind of self-complacency and conceit, that conduct of the Theatre justifies itself by mere financial gain can vindicate a theatrical administration which benefits a few individuals at the expense of the public good and by the oppression of honest competitors; and that, practically, is the administration of the Theatre which is provided by the Theatrical Syndicate.

The covenant made by the six members of the Syndicate contains much of that verbiage which customarily encumbers legal documents. Some facts, however, as to the results of its operation are apparent. Under the contract, covering “different cities of the United States and Canada,” independent theatrical companies, seeking to compete for public favor and support, “were not permitted to play against” “other companies of the same or different class,” owned, operated, controlled, or directed, by the Syndicate. According to that covenant, “No attraction [_i.e._, no company presenting a theatrical entertainment or performance] shall be booked in _any_ of the said theatres or places of amusement [_i.e._, theatres or places of amusement owned or controlled by the Syndicate] which will [_sic_] insist on playing _in opposition_ theatres or places of amusement in any of the cities” named in the Syndicate agreement, unless by written permission of a Syndicate member, controlling a theatre or theatres in such or such specific places where an independent manager desired to present his company in an independent theatre. By this arrangement the Syndicate, in effect, could say, and has said, to managers of theatres outside its ownership or direct control: If you wish to “play” _any_ of our “attractions,” at any time, you must play _all_ the attractions we book in your theatre when we book them and on the terms which we specify,--otherwise you _cannot have any_ of the attractions which we book. To persons, whether star actors or managers directing theatrical companies on tours through the country, desirous to secure “bookings” in certain cities in which first-class theatres are controlled by the Syndicate that organization could say, and has said, in effect: If you wish to play in _any_ theatre owned or controlled by us, you must play in every theatre, whenever and wherever we choose to direct you to play, on whatever terms we choose to make for you. If that is not, in effect, blackmail and extortion, compelling the transaction of business under duress, what is it? The theatres owned, leased, controlled by members of the Syndicate _are_ their theatres, and they assert the right to conduct those theatres to suit themselves. Owners of property certainly _are_ entitled to use it for their advantage; but would any well-informed and fair-minded person maintain that the members of the Theatrical Syndicate, using their property in the way I have described, use it according to the dictates of justice? When that kindred beneficence the Standard Oil Company desires to drive a small, independent dealer out of business how does it go about the task? It sets up a contiguous, superbly managed competing oil shop and undersells the independent dealer, till he, lacking money to maintain a hopeless struggle for his

Al. Hayman Charles Frohman
Copyright by Charles Frohman, Inc.

Marc Klaw

Abraham L. Erlanger Copyright, Rockwood

Samuel F. Nixon (Nirdlinger) J. Fred. Zimmermann, Sr.

“It is often true, as old _King Duncan_ declares, that ‘There’s no
art to find the mind’s construction in the face.’ Nevertheless,
study of the faces of the men who compose that sacred institution
of beneficence, The Theatrical Syndicate, is worth making. Such
study renders it easier to understand the condition of the Theatre
in America to-day.”--W. W.
]

livelihood, is forced to sell his business and desist from competition. Then the benevolent national octopus gradually advances the price of oil until at last the public in the neighborhood has paid the cost of driving the small competitor out of business, the field is occupied solely by the Standard Company, and it sells oil to the people for “all the traffic will bear.” That method may be as _lawful_ in selling “theatricals” as in selling oil, but--is it _right_?

If Belasco desired to present one of his “attractions,” in thirty cities under the Syndicate domination (acceding to the terms imposed upon him), but could, in one other city, present that “attraction” for ten weeks, at an independent theatre, receiving eighty per cent. of the gross receipts, while in the same city the Syndicate would “book” his “attraction” at one of its theatres and graciously exact fifty per cent, of the gross receipts, then Belasco would be necessitated to submit to that predatory dictation, or else lose his “bookings” in the thirty other cities,--in _all_ other cities,--in which the Syndicate controlled the “first-class” theatres.

“THOSE SHALL TAKE WHO HAVE THE POWER.”

Perhaps that may seem an extreme case. Yet that is exactly what happened to him. In 1902 Belasco produced “The Darling of the Gods,” Miss Blanche Bates appearing in it as a star, in association with an exceptionally fine and expensive company. That was a very costly production: after two years of presentation of it Belasco had gained a net profit of only $5,000,--while, had he chosen to do so, he could have gained that profit in a fortnight with many an inferior vehicle. He was, naturally, proud of his achievement. He desired that the play should be represented within reach of the multitude assembled to view the World’s Exposition, which was opened at St. Louis, in 1904, and he arranged to present “The Darling of the Gods” at the Imperial Theatre, in that city. As soon as this fact became known he was notified by Mr. Erlanger, on behalf of the Syndicate, that he would not be permitted to do so,--the reason being that the Syndicate would not tolerate the presentment there of Belasco’s play in any but a Syndicate house, though the Syndicate could not, or would not, provide him a theatre there for as long a term as he could secure the Imperial. Belasco’s reply was that he would certainly produce “The Darling of the Gods” in St. Louis, whereupon Mr. Erlanger, in the presence of Belasco’s representative, destroyed and threw into a waste basket a number of contracts, signed and executed, providing for the presentation of that and other Belasco “attractions” in theatres under Syndicate control in various cities of the Union and Canada. This peremptory repudiative action, accompanied by much violent expletive, no doubt was one of Mr. Erlanger’s genial ways of illustrating the conduct of business on those “firm lines” he had prescribed as so essential to theatrical regeneration, and of illuminating the Syndicate’s righteous purpose, as stated by the late Mr. Charles Frohman, to compel the managers of theatrical companies “to keep faith with managers of theatres.” It clearly was a conclusive example of the Syndicate’s beneficent methods.

“Thus bad begins and worse remains behind”: if the general policy which I have specified is iniquitous, how shall certain other proceedings, conducted by the executive of the Syndicate, in the development of the business of the Theatre, be characterized? Let the reader assume that he wishes to bring out a new star or a new play, in New York, and does so: his venture is successful: he plays for a considerable term in the capital: he wishes to “book” his “attraction” on the road. The charges made for such booking service are, I understand, reasonable,--somewhere from about $250 to $300 for a season’s tour. But does the reader suppose he can get his play booked and his tour arranged as simply as by paying an agent’s commission? Let him try: perhaps he will succeed: “circumstances alter cases”: his play may have proved so popular in New York that theatre managers throughout the country clamor to have it exhibited in their theatres, in which case the Syndicate might become placable; but such good fortune is dubious. It is far more probable that, in order to obtain a desirable route through the first-class theatres of the country, he will find it obligatory to make “a free gift” of an interest of from one-third to one-half of his successful venture (in which he has done all the original work and borne all the expense and risk) to the benevolent and protective firm of Messrs. Klaw & Erlanger,--as, for example, it appears from his sworn testimony (see _ante_, pp. 18-19) that Belasco was forced to do when presenting David Warfield in “The Auctioneer.”

DIVERGENT VIEWS OF THE SYNDICATE: GROUNDS FOR REASONABLE BELIEF.

It is not feasible to include in this Memoir a complete History of the Theatrical Syndicate, examining every detail of its organization, conduct, influence, and effect,--though such a history is a necessary part of the annals of our Stage. In the absence of such exhaustive record the partially informed reader may be confused, perhaps misled, by dissentaneous views of the Syndicate--about which, be it observed, I write as an uncompromising opponent. On the one side that Syndicate is found portrayed by its advocates as an institution of light, leading, and beneficence. On the other side, it is found represented as an arrogant, ruthless, grasping monopoly,--exerting an actively injurious influence on the Drama and the Art of Acting,--and as being composed of ignorant, avaricious, vulgar men, unfit to dominate any art--and in particular the _quasi_-educational art of the Theatre,--and regardless not only of the public welfare as affected by the Stage but, at least in some instances, regardless even of the public safety. The disparity of sentiment is diametrical. But though a whole history of the Syndicate is not here practical, is it not possible briefly to present essential information bearing on the subject in such a way that the reader may disregard the discordant and disputatious views of advocates and opponents and form an independent opinion based merely on facts of record? I think that it is. First, then, as to disregard of the public safety by some members of the Theatrical Syndicate:

Soon after the burning of the Iroquois Theatre, in Chicago, December 30, 1903, during a performance there of “Mr. Bluebeard,”--a disaster in which 602 persons horribly perished,--the New York weekly journal “Life” published a cartoon portraying the exit of a theatre, with the door padlocked and with smoke streaming through it, while women and children were shown struggling to force it open and escape. A symbolic figure of Death was shown standing beside that portal, and beneath the picture was a caption reading: “Messrs. Klaw & Erlanger Present Mr. Bluebeard.” The implication of that cartoon was, unquestionably, an accusation of wholesale manslaughter. Messrs. Klaw & Erlanger, claiming that the publication of it was a libel upon them, instituted a suit against “Life” for $100,000 damages. That suit was tried in the United States Circuit Court, New York, January 3 to 6, 1905, before Justice William J. Wallace and a jury. The publication complained of was, in fact, beyond question a libel. Under the law publication of libellous matter is justified if it be _true_ and if it be made without malice, in the way of legitimate comment or criticism. The issue in this case, therefore, was perfectly clear. The jury decided in favor of “Life” after deliberating less than five minutes--thus, in effect, certifying to the truth and legitimacy of comment which amounted to an accusation against Klaw & Erlanger of wholesale manslaughter through negligence.

Second, as to the characters and reputations of the men composing the Syndicate and the question of their fitness to dominate the Theatre:

“The New York Dramatic Mirror,” on October 30 and November 13, 1897, published articles, written by its editor, then Harrison Grey Fiske, which stigmatized the members of the Theatrical Syndicate as a “_band of adventurers_, who imagined that they could manipulate the amusement business _for their sole gain_”; as men actuated by “clannish greed and selfishness”; as “mercenaries” who threatened “the welfare of the Stage”; as persons who, in their business, were guilty of maintaining a “_system of double-dealing_, of _false pretences_, and of _misrepresentation_”; as “illiterate managers”; as an “insolent and mischievous clique of theatrical middlemen”; as “insolent jobbers,” “theatrical throttlers,” “crooked _entrepreneurs_” and “an un-American and intolerable combination of greedy, narrow-minded tricksters.”

The several members of the Syndicate, resentful of these explicit strictures, instituted suit against Fiske, asserting that in making and circulating the statements about them just quoted he had uttered a “false, defamatory, scandalous, and malicious libel” which had “injured the complainants in their good name, fame, and reputation,” and otherwise damaged them, all in the sum total of $100,000. The complaint in this action was filed on November 19, 1897.

Fiske answered, in effect, that his charges against the Syndicate were “made in behalf of the public and [of] those engaged in the theatrical line or profession in the United States” and were set forth as “_a fair and true statement_ of the object and purpose of the Syndicate”; that his articles complained of were true and not malicious, denying that they constitute a “false, defamatory, scandalous, and malicious libel”; asserted that “Al. Hayman was not a person of good name, fame, and reputation,” but “that he [Hayman] with his co-complainants did by a system of double-dealing and false pretences and misrepresentations to the public and those engaged in the theatrical business unite and band together by wrongful and improper expedients” to mislead and defraud the public; “that the said J. Fred Zimmermann is not a person of good name, fame, and reputation”; that A. L. “Erlanger is not a person of good name, fame, and reputation, but that, on the contrary, the said A. L. Erlanger has been arrested and convicted of crime in the State of Pennsylvania,” and that “the name, fame, and reputation” of the plaintiffs had been “truly set forth in the said articles mentioned in the plaintiffs’ complaint.”

Of course, to _make_ such damaging accusations is not to _prove_ them,--whether they be made in a newspaper or in a legal instrument: the noblest and best men and women the world has ever seen, or ever will see, all are liable to traduction and attack. But the members of the Syndicate, after taking cognizance of these accusations, after declaring under oath that they had been damaged by the making of them in the amount of $100,000, and after the braggart spokesman for the group had asserted in print that “we mean to make Mr. Fiske prove his allegations or publicly acknowledge his mistake,” dallied and delayed in the case for two and one-half years (during all of which time Mr. Fiske, as he personally and repeatedly assured me, was not only willing but eager to go to trial on the facts),--and then, April 18, 1900, _discontinued their action_. Commenting on this proceeding, Fiske said, in “The Mirror”:

“No pretence of legal unreadiness and no motion for delay of this
case have ever proceeded from the defence.... ‘The Mirror’ has been
not only ready but eager at all times since the joining of issue in
this case to thoroughly thresh the matter out in open court.... The
case never has been pushed in court, and _it is evident that the
plaintiffs never had any intention to try it_.”

Judicious readers will, I believe, agree that the course of the members of the Syndicate amounts, practically, to a confession of the truth of Fiske’s charges; and surely, in the circumstances, they can neither wonder nor complain because those charges have been generally believed.--As to the power exerted by A. L. Erlanger over Belasco and the quality of the Theatrical Syndicate as a monopoly, I consider the arraignment made by Samuel Untermyer, before the Appellate Division of the Supreme Court, to be perhaps the best and most entirely just that I have ever read:

“...Of course Belasco went to Erlanger’s house and was a
suppliant to the tender mercy of Erlanger to permit him to hire
theatres in which to produce his play. He went there because the
Syndicate’s unholy and criminal alliance which controlled the
principal theatres throughout the country had made it impossible
for any man with a play, a company, scenery, costumes, and all the
requirements for a complete production to book his play (which
means to find a roof under which to produce it) except by the grace
of Klaw & Erlanger, who controlled the Syndicate and the theatres.
And they could ask just such proportion of the profits by way of
rent and impose such other conditions as they chose. Of course
Belasco went to Erlanger’s house, and when he confronted ‘the great
man’ he not only agreed to pay the rent, generally _fifty per cent.
or more of the gross receipts_ of every performance, for the
theatres, but he was also forced to agree to give secretly to Klaw
& Erlanger under cover of Brooks’ name fifty per cent. of all the
profits of that production. No wonder Erlanger did not want that
little arrangement known to his Syndicate

Photograph by Byron. Belasco’s Collection.

THE CROWNING ROOM,--BELASCO’S PRODUCTION OF “ADREA”]

partners! Why should not Belasco go to Erlanger and smilingly
consent to be fleeced? His venture was ruined unless Erlanger would
furnish ‘bookings’ on any terms Erlanger chose to extort. Should
the King go to the Beggar? Or was it meet that Belasco the Beggar
for a chance to pay for the use of theatres in which to produce his
own play with his own company, should go humbly to Erlanger, the
King of the Syndicate that controlled the theatres?

“No such despotism has ever been known or dreamed of in this
country and none so fatal to the development of art as the evidence
discloses this Theatrical Syndicate. Every monopoly that has been
dragged into the court pales into insignificance and seems almost
harmless beside it. Every owner of a theatre contracted with
throughout the country was required to agree not to permit his
theatre to be used for any performance not under the direction [of]
or assented to by the Syndicate even during the times it was not in
use or being paid for by the Syndicate!...”

CONVERTING CONVENTION HALL:--“ADREA” IN WASHINGTON.