Daisy Chained (Part Two)

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The Hollywood Hotel. Where Jean Acker locked Rudolph Valentino out of her room.

In November 1919 Rudolph Valentino married his first wife Jean Acker. It wasn’t, we know, a match made in heaven; and questions continue, to this very day, about what exactly was going on that month. There are questions, too, about what, if anything, was to be gained from the union. Just as there’s curiosity about the aftermath. I hope to answer these queries, in a three part post, titled, not Questions, but Daisy Chained, for reasons that will eventually become clear. As far as I’m aware this is the first deep investigation of this important figure in Rudy’s life.

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A vintage postcard of the Ansley Hotel with an image of a Bridal Chamber top right.

While Jean may’ve vanished for some length of time, professionally, towards the end of 1915, she didn’t herself disappear. Far from it. In fact, several mentions in the press, in that year and the next, give us some idea of her movements. Her scene or scenes in Are You a Mason? (1915) had to have been completed by late January, for her to be reported about in a light-hearted manner early in February, in The Atlanta Constitution. It seems that Acker had arrived in town at the Hotel Ansley in need of a room. Asking for “the best” accomodation, she was informed, by the Assistant Manager, Charles G. Day, that their finest available was the Bridal Suite. When told it was the most expensive Jean apparently asked: “Has it a tiger skin, or fuzzy rug in it?” When told it did, she said she’d take it, as her $600 Pekingese puppy, ‘Peg’, liked something to play on when he was “lonesome”. The report, titled TAKES BRIDAL SUITE SO “PEG” CAN PLAY ON TIGERSKIN RUG, ended with the statement that she, and Miss Florenze Tempest, who she was there to visit: “… signed up the bridal chamber for a week.” Whether or not the famous Cross-Dresser Tempest, who shared “the bridal chamber” was another early Amour, or simply a Theatrical Buddy, the report, for me, is a wonderful glimpse into the life of Acker in her early twenties. She travels about freely. Behaves like a Star. Has the money for both an expensive pooch – it could’ve been a gift – and the priciest room at a stylish hotel. Has a tongue-in-cheek personality. And is newsworthy where she goes.

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Florenze Tempest in character.

(One possible reason for Jean Acker’s hiatus, and her travelling, is that she may’ve successfully sued Frank H. Platt for $10,000. Or, been awarded a lesser sum, or secured an out of court settlement. (Platt was the man driving the vehicle which hit Law, Phoner and herself, when they were on Law’s motorcycle, in New York, in the first half of 1913.) According to a report, on January the 6th, 1914, Jean’s damages suit was to be tried that day.)

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The Otesaga Hotel, Cooperstown, central New York State, before WW1.

At the start of August, on the 3rd (according to the August 8th edition of Cincinatti’s THE ENQUIRER), she was equally far-flung, when she was very definitely the “guest of honor” at Mrs. William C. Boyle’s “attractively appointed luncheon” at Boyle’s summer home, ‘Cairngorm Farm’, “on the lake shore east”. The Honoured Guest was, the newspaper explained, at the time visiting a Mrs. Charles H. Hopper. Whatever Mrs. Hopper meant to Miss Acker – let’s not draw the conclusion that her attachment to every established, older female, was a sexual or transactional one – they were, a year later, still friends and in one another’s company. Something proven by the paragraph, in a column titled, AT THE OTESAGA, in THE GLIMMERGLASS DAILY, on Monday August, 28th, 1916. As follows:

Mrs. Charles Hopper of Cleveland

and Miss Jean Acker, Mrs. J. R. Pri-

tchard, and Mrs. Asta Ash of New

York, are making a few days stay at

the Otesaga.

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‘Madame’ Yorska.

One whole year passes before we see Jean’s name again, when, right at the beginning of June 1917, she’s linked to Mme. Yorksa. Madame Yorska? Yes! That was my reaction too when I first saw the name! Who was she? Very much a subject in her own right, this isn’t really the time and place to delve into her; however, it’s pretty clear she was important to Acker, previous to her meeting the other Madame: Nazimova. A personality who’s now almost totally forgotten, and without even a Wikipedia page, she was, it seems, a rather important dramatic presence in the United States in the Teens. How and when Jean Acker met the Bernhardt-trained Actress fond of playing male parts is a mystery. Yet it’s obvious from a brief look at Yorska’s remarkable career, that Acker had impressed her sufficiently to be included in the cast of Jenny, a play presented on the afternoon of Monday, June 5th, 1917, at The Comedy Theatre, in New York. (THE NEW YORK CLIPPER reveals that the one-off presentation was for the benefit of The Actor’s Fund of America, and that Edmund (or ‘Eddie’) Goulding, later a significant Director, was also one of the performers.)

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Alla Nazimova in 1918.

Was it while she orbited Madame Yorska that Acker gravitated, inexorably, to Madame Nazimova? I believe so. (Actually, in the first week of December, in the previous year, Yorska and Nazimova had been two of the “Scores of prominent performers” that had performed at a Blue Cross Fund benefit, at the Hudson Theatre, suggesting they perhaps knew one another.) Alla, the greater Star of the pair, was almost certainly on the East Coast of the United States that Summer, alternately in New York and her home at Port Chester, to the North of the metropolis. Basking in the afterglow of having recently wowed audiences and critics alike – an initial skimpy outfit alone had left them open-mouthed – in H. Austin Adams’ play Ception Shoals between January and May. And readying herself to embark upon a movie career, after the conclusion of negotiations with pre M-G-M Metro Pictures Corp. (Four weeks of tough negotiating, finalised on Friday, July 27th, and announced on the 28th.)

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A Ception Shoals cartoon.

Nazimova, who the Theatre Critic, Charles Darnton, described, in an incredibly detailed review of the first night of Ception Shoals, as: “… an actress of intelligence, feeling and imagination…” was, with much success behind and ahead of her, utterly irresistable that year. Something Harriette Underhill underscored, in December 1917, in her piece titled: Alla Be Praised! Which began:

“One hundred years from now it may

be written in the books which record

historical events that Nazimova was

discovered in 1917…”

Naturally Underhill and her knowing readers were all too aware Madame Nazimova had already enjoyed a decade of stage triumphs — as was Acker. Yet it was in the year the USA entered The Great War she arguably reached her apogee. Harriette Underhill’s declaration that: “Nazimova is more than a person. She is a force.” is telling. And in her responses to the interviewer’s questions Alla’s more telling still. Particularly when she gives her Interrogator her opinion of films and film-making:”… the motion picture is the soul of drama in visible form… It is a triumph—and that’s what we all want, isn’t it?” (A favourite story of mine about Nazimova, Ception Shoals and 1917, that demonstrates the extent to which she was A Force, is the one about how Mrs. Marshall Field and her party were humiliated in a Washington theatre by the Star. It seems that due to comments overheard by her from Field’s box, Madame cried out “Curtain!”, before instructing the Stage Manager to turn out all of the house lights, bar those in the box. (At which, not surprisingly, Field and her friends fled.))

I’m almost certain, due to her later activities, that Alla’s triumph over Jean, her conquest of her, was achieved at this point in time: the Summer of 1917. With nobody alive to ask, and nothing, to my knowledge, ever found in writing, or recorded, we must make bold assumptions about the when, the where and the how. If the when was indeed 1917. And the where was New York. Then we’re left with the how. As already suggested Madame Yorska is one potential link. Yet I favour another candidate, named Herbert Brenon; a man who’d known Acker since 1913, and had successfully directed Nazimova, in her first, one-off motion picture, War Brides (1916). Easy indeed it is, to imagine Jean Acker seeing and saying hello to him at a party, a restaurant, the theatre, or even on the street, while in Alla Nazimova’s company.

I don’t see it as a problem that we wait twelve months to see the two women mentioned together in print. For me, their combination in the same sentence is so casual, it suggests, the unsaid being the clue, that the unknown journalist was aware they weren’t newly acquainted. The quickie marriage of Actor George R. Edeson to Actress Mary Newcomb that following Summer was a minor off-stage drama.  The hasty nuptials, which in a way oddly echo Acker’s own, were followed, a report in the New York Tribune reveals, by a dinner at the Hotel des Artists [sic]; at which the guests, including Mme. Nazimova and Miss Jean Acker, were sworn to secrecy as to the place and time of the ceremony, and, the couple’s later whereabouts. Secrecy was, of course, the theme, at least to outsiders, when it came to Alla and Jean. So much so, that at this distance, we know virtually nothing of their very serious and lengthy affair. Yet serious and lengthy it was. And, in time, rather consequential to them both — though they didn’t know it, in 1917 and 1918.

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Perusing the relevant pages of Gavin Lambert’s Alla Nazimova biography, Nazimova: A Biography (1997), we learn little about the commencement of their relationship. Just as he’s lacking in detail about Madame’s entry into Filmdom; failing to mention how she’d openly offered her services for $50,000 per production, and publicly floated the idea of working with D. W. Griffith (following his return to the USA from The Western Front), Lambert’s very noncommittal when it comes to any pathway. (A little odd when you consider his general hypothesizing elsewhere.) It’s clear, when we consider the evidence in the New York Tribune, that Nazimova didn’t discover Acker in the September of 1919. Jean had never been known as “Jeanne Mendoza”. Wasn’t 26. Hadn’t, at any time, been “a dancer in vaudeville” or a “small-part actress in summer stock”. And the less said about: “… hardly known to the world at all.” the better. Yet, it would be churlish to suggest that his yet-to-be-surpassed life gives nothing when it comes to Alla and Jean; as it absolutely doesn’t, as will be seen.

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It was at the end of 1918, on Friday, December 27th, that industry publication, Wid’s DAILY, reported on the return of Jean Acker to film-making. Small news items, in that month and the next, informed the business that Miss Acker had been engaged to support the popular Fox Film Corp. Star, George Walsh, in a production to be titled Tough Luck Jones. (The title had already altered from Jinx Jones and would end up being Never Say Quit.)

As we don’t know how Acker came to be teamed with Walsh – no report enlightens us – we’re forced to speculate. Her mixing in the right circles and being in New York was probably sufficient for her to cross the path of someone – an Agent, Director or Executive – that facilitated it all. Though it was very much the case that the majority of filming was conducted in the West by this time, business was still being concluded in the East, at the headquarters of the varied, significant studios. And this was obviously beneficial to her when it came to William Fox’s concern. (Fox, seldom, if ever, went to California.)

“It is typically a George Walsh concoc-

tion, a mass of complications furnishing

the star opportunities to display his

physical agility strung upon a story

thread a little stronger than customary.”

From REVIEWS, EXHIBITORS HERALD AND MOTOGRAPHY, March 22nd, 1919 (page 33).

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Looking at reviews of Never Say Quit (1919) (a good example, being Hanford C. Judson’s, in the March 29th issue of THE MOVING PICTURE WORLD), we can see how Jean adapted to the times by playing: “… a big-eyed vamp…” Her part, was, it’s true, minor. (She’s billed simply as: Vamp.) And her screentime limited. (Just one scene it appears.) Yet, she was to be featured, prominently, in advertisements. (See above.) And find her portrayal would lead, quite soon, to a better role, in a far, far bigger Fox Film Corp. production. A great part in a wholesome, feel-good film, which would introduce her to more of her country men and country women than ever before.

That the death and burial of her Grandmother and namesake, in February 1919, didn’t derail her, despite it being a blow, is proven by the fact that after she completed work opposite Walsh, Acker signed up for Edward A. Locke’s new play The Dancer. The story of Lola Kerinski, a Russian performer protected by a Manager and a brother, who falls for a wealthy American, who she marries, loses, then reunites with, opened at the Grand theatre, Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania on February 13th. VARIETY‘s anonymous reviewer, on the 19th, felt a week or two of rehearsals had been insufficient. “… players were …. [unsure] of their lines…” and “the play” required: “… blue-penciling, speeding up and more vitality.” Despite this, the producers, “The Shuberts”, had: “… staged the play well and surrounded the principals with capable players.” (Jean Acker was one of these.) By the time the cast reached Poli’s theatre, on the 23rd, at the capital city Washington, it flowed nicely. However, on March the 5th, at The Majestic theatre, Providence, Rhode Island, locals objected to the two main characters, the Wife and Husband, kissing in bed and appearing dressed in nightwear, and complained to the relevant authority. Sergeant Richard Gamble, “amusement inspector”, consequently requested serious alterations.

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Miss Jean Acker in the late Teens.

Was bedroom fun on Miss Jean Acker’s mind too? By March she’d found the time to seek out a new home for herself; eventually settling on a sub-let, handled by Pease&Ellman (for Trowbridge Calloway), at 662 Madison Avenue, in New York. To be a block away from Central Park, even in the Spring of 1919, wouldn’t have been cheap. So I wonder if Alla Nazimova was paying for the apartment. And if it was perhaps a place for the couple to rendezvous when Madame was East between films. Of course, being back in business, as she was, Jean might’ve been in a position to rent in a nice part of town. There’s no denying that she’s named as the new Tenant, in the RESIDENTIAL LEASES column, in THE SUN newspaper, on Monday, March 24th. I get the impression, even though it was standard practice at the time, that Jean publicized her move because it suited her for people to know. This was not a publicity-shy individual. Being in the press was enjoyable for her. And she wanted to look good, as people do, when they’re in a profession where looking good’s of the utmost importance.

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So good did Acker look that Spring, that as soon as the rights were secured (by William Fox) to film Checkers (a late 19th C. novel by Henry M. Blossom Jr. adapted for the stage and much revived), it was announced she was to star opposite Thomas J. Carrigan. With the Director, according to the first publication to announce it (Wid’s DAILY, on Friday, March 7th), to be Richard Stanton.

The picturization of Blossom Jr.’s Checkers was, it must be stated, on a whole different level to Never Say Quit. On March 15th industry title THE MOVING PICTURE WORLD was unequivocal: “One of the biggest casts ever assembled for a motion picture…”  was at work. (A cast of “nearly fifty principals”.) And “The racing scenes which helped make the play famous…” were to “… be photographed at one of the southern racetracks.” It was expected, the final sentence revealed, that the adaptation would be released that Spring. And would be: “… a big special feature.”

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Jean Acker’s role in the screen version was that of the Heroine Pert Barlow. As Pert, Jean appeals to Checkers, Thomas’s character, a Racing Tout, to help her to stop her society Fiancee drinking so heavily. (The Fiancee, who’s played by Robert Elliot, is called Arthur Kendall.) When Checkers tries and fails, he and Pert find themselves in love, and become engaged; something her Father is so unhappy about, he locks her in her room. A daring escape follows. Then an elopement. With Acker’s Barlow taking with her her horse — named Remorse. The two decide to enter Remorse in a big local race. However, the evil Fiancee seeks to stop them, in any way he can, so his own horse can triumph. The pair overcome several serious obstacles – the wrecking of their train, Pert’s abduction and imprisonment in China Town and rescue, and the blinding of their chosen jockey – before succeeding in winning the competition. A feat achieved by Jean’s Barlow riding the steed to victory. After which, Bertram Marburgh’s Judge Barlow forgives them, and welcomes them back to the family home. The End.

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If this re-phrased, contemporary synopsis doesn’t give the full picture, we can access an advertisement that perhaps fills in any blanks when it comes to action. (Above.) As we see Acker was back to her earlier self. Leaping from her room to a tree. Jumping from a “… speeding auto to a box car…” And riding “…. to victory on Remorse.” And once more, at the very end, anyway, cross-dressing and pretending to be a man. Not so common at the time. And in advance of the masquerading of both Dietrich and Garbo a decade later. (It’s only recently, too, that any female has been permitted to openly compete in a horse race.)

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Acker as Barlow ready to Save The Day.

By mid. March filming had commenced on the East Coast, at the company’s studio, at Fort Lee. Sometime in the third or fourth week of the month, a writer at Motion Picture News put together a look at progress so far, including details of what footage had been shot of Jean up to that point. (The piece was published in the March 29th edition.) “… the little Broadway beauty and daredevil of the movies…” was offering to “bet one year’s salary” that when the horse featured (owned by P. S. P. Randolph) started in The Kentucky Derby, she’d be: “… in the saddle wearing the Randolph colors.” Acker, already “one of the best woman riders in the country”, had been, we’re informed, coached as to how to ride in an actual race by “a well-known retired jockey”. And had already been captured with the thoroughbred at the private track at: “… the Randolph Estate at Lakewood, N. J.” (If the June 21st edition of THE MOVING PICTURE WORLD is believed then the information that Jean Acker would indeed ride in The Kentucky Derby was just good old-fashioned Hoo-Ha. According to the publication: “The racing scenes were filmed at the Belmont Park, Long Island, and on a New Jersey course.”)

Many reports mention the fact that Stanton was “a stickler for realism”. The entire set erected for the gambling scene, was authentic, down to the ivory inlaid chips each worth $1.50. Chinatown was faithfully recreated, with the assistance of Captain Hannon, of the Elizabeth Street police station. And Acker’s ten foot spring from the roof of a mansion into the branches of a tree, 38 feet from the ground, was all too genuine. Just as genuine, was the injury sustained by Ellen Cassity, portraying third-billed Alva Romaine, hurt in the filming of the ballroom scene by a broken goblet. (The reporting of this doesn’t state exactly how the Actress was injured.)

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There’s no doubting that Checkers (1919) was a hit. A quick word search on lantern, or at Chronicling America, or Fulton History and elsewhere, provides plenty of proof. On July 28th, more than a month before the tightly edited, 70 minute visual extravaganza was issued, Wid’s DAILY was singing its praises. The Director: “… handled his material in such a way as to get every ounce of punch possible out of the story’s bigger moments.” It was edge of the seat stuff. Particularly the climax: “… when the picture showed the race itself, there was to be had almost as much excitement as if you had a big bet on the race yourself.” Others – THE NEW YORK CLIPPER (September 3rd), EXHIBITORS HERALD AND MOTOGRAPHY (September 6th), and PHOTOPLAY Magazine (October), as well as many more – all gave Checkers (1919) favourable reviews. Yet it was the feedback to industry publications from exhibitors that showed the extent to which the film succeeded. (There are, unfortunately, just too many examples to reproduce here, other than the one above.)

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By the time Checkers (1919) premiered in St. Louis, the Author’s home town, with allsorts of publicity innovations – ten store windows devoted to publicity, a horse with a jockey parading in the streets, 500 paper strips with premiere details pasted to telephone poles, adverts accompanying 3,000 copies of the title tune, 5,000 windshield notifications, and even a preview advance Trailer playing in the “Wm. Fox Liberty Theatre” – employed, Jean Acker, “the little Broadway beauty and daredevil of the movies”, was firmly on the West Coast.

Why? And why was she no longer working for William Fox’s Fox Film Corp.? The only possible reason is that a jealous Nazimova had forbidden her to. And had forced Jean to relocate to California in order that she couldn’t soar higher. Acker’s wings needed to be clipped. And clipped they would be were she to be in the West. We know this, due to there being no customary announcement that Jean had left her current employer, or, unprecedented at the time, that she’d been signed by her new one. Madame, somehow strangely in control of the Miss, even managed to obliterate her recent achievements, when she was credited, by Cal York, in Plays and Players, in the September edition of PHOTOPLAY Magazine, as the person who’d discovered her.

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Madame.

Nazzy, recently returned from New York, had brought with her, in the following order: a collection of frogs and toads for her bathtub, a new brand of perfumed cigarettes, and Jeanne [sic] Acker, a Protege, who’d now be named Jeanne Mendoza. Jean’s humiliation was complete. Not only was she under the thumb of her older Lover, she’d failed to register, ahead of bathtoys and cigarettes, in one of Hollywood’s most prestigious publications. (And, most tragic of all, Lambert’s, Nazimova: A Biography, in reproducing this awful announcement, condemned her to a quarter of a century of derision.) Yet she at least at the time had a job (no doubt organized by Alla). As mentioned (at the very end of the sneering paragraph), she’d be playing opposite Bert Lytell, in a forthcoming Screen Classics Inc./Metro Pictures Corp. film, Lombardi, Ltd.

When I learned Jean Acker had been involved in the film version of Frederic and Fanny Hatton’s, three act, 1917 comedy, Lombardi, Ltd. (1919), I decided to seek it out. And I’m pleased I did – The British Library had a 1928 copy – as it gave me insight. Not only into what was going on in her life in terms of work, before she and Rudolph Valentino met in the Autumn of that year; but, the film being inaccessible to me, and no script copy being available, an excellent idea of what the adaptation was all about at its core. I suddenly had background. And suddenly a lot of what transpired made sense. (I later also accessed Dorothy Allison’s, scene-by-scene version, in the January 1920 issue of PHOTOPLAY.)

The play by the prolific Hattons, who’d previously scored hits with, Years of Discretion (1912), The Song Bird (1915), $2,000 A Night (1915) Upstairs and Down (1916)), and The Squab Farm (1916), was launched by Oliver Morosco, at his Morosco theatre, in Los Angeles, on July 1st, 1917; where it instantly succeeded, catapulting Leo Carrillo, who played the main character Tito Lombardi, to theatrical stardom. (NOTE: $2,000 A Night, was, interestingly, originally titled: The Great Lover.)

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The story, in essence, is that of a brilliant, Italian male Modiste/Fashion Designer, who’s talented at creating desirable clothing, but not so clever when it comes to running the business and making a profit. Additionally, he’s unlucky in love; and continues to be so throughout the play, until he discovers true happiness under his nose, in the form of his faithful, but not-so-glamorous store Manageress. Many characters revolve around Tito. Two, an important Model named Daisy, the Ingenue Lead, and a secretly wealthy youth, named Riccardo, the Juvenile Lead, ultimately being most important to the narrative. A tale, summarized by Guy Price, in his review in THE LOS ANGELES EVENING HERALD, on Monday, July 2nd, 1917, as: “Real love [triumphing] over the selfish, for-gain-only, ‘surface love.'”

As it was Daisy that Jean portrayed in Lombardi, Ltd. (1919), I paid attention to her as a figure, and to her lines and interractions with Riccardo. In the DESCRIPTION OF CHARACTERS section, of the late ’20s reprint at The British Library, she’s described thus:

DAISY :  A mannequin in Lombardi’s establishment.

Ingenue LeadOf the ‘baby vampire’ type.

Played for comedy at all times.  In the [F]irst [A]ct

innocent and unsophisticated.  Commencing with

the Second Act she assumes the airs of the girls

about her, and thinks herself quite ‘wise.’  She

should be a young girl of about twenty-two,

rather small but possessed of a good figure and

very pretty.  In Act 1 wears her hair low and

simply ; thereafter puts it on the top of her head

in exaggerated manner, but not so that it will

spoil her attractiveness. ‘Kittenish’ best des-

cribes her habitual manner.

And I also reproduce, Riccardo’s, or Rickey’s description, which I think very interesting, when you have in mind another, real-life Italian, that the actual day-to-day Jean would be encountering. As follows:

RICCARDO TOSSELLO :  Juvenile and Light Comedy.

A young man of about twenty-fiveItalian de-

scentNot the swarthy type ; black or dark hair. 

Does not use the Italian dialect any time.  Is of

the manly type and easy to play if not ‘acted.’

Very wealthy, but does not seem to be aware of

the fact, and is never arrogant or important

because of his wealth.  Just a ‘hail fellow well

met’ at all times, never loud in action, speech

or dress. The diamond rings he wears are sup-

posed to have been inherited from his father and

worn for the sake of their association, rather

than their value.

As you can see, I’ve purposely highlighted/made bold parts of sentences, for both Daisy and Riccardo/Rickey, that I feel, strongly, particularly with Riccardo Tossello, eerily echo his off-screen counterpart Rudolph Valentino. He’s named Riccardo/Rickey and Rudolph was Rudolph/Rudy. He’s 25 and Valentino, was, likewise, in his mid. twenties. (24 at this point.) He’s not swarthy, has black or dark hair, and doesn’t use the Italian dialect any time. And Rudy wasn’t swarthy, had dark hair, and didn’t, at least by 1919, as far as I know, use the Italian dialect. And further, Rudolph was never arrogant or important; was a hail fellow well met; and, as we know, rather enjoyed wearing rings. But back to Daisy/Jean and Rickey/Rudy in a little bit. As I now throw June Mathis into the mix. It being “The recognized head of Metro’s scenario department” who was responsible for the adaptation.

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“Comedy is very necessary. But, after all, it doesn’t make the lasting impression that is made by the soul-searching story—the story that gets under the skins of all of us and reveals that mortals are weak, groping atoms in a cosmic wilderness and that into their brief span of existence is crowded infinitely more sorrow than happiness.”

June Mathis, quoted in Motion Picture News, August 9th, 1919.

The pre The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (1921) Mathis had only recently been elevated to the enviable position of Metro Pictures Corp.’s Scenarist in Chief. And was being heralded as such, that Summer, in promotional pieces like the half page article, Woman to Adapt Screen Classics, that appeared in the August 9th edition of Motion Picture News. If the message wasn’t clear from the title, it was hammered home in the text, when it was stated that June was: “… grooming herself for a demonstration of her contention that the female of the species is more strenuous than the male…” in the scenario writing sphere. “Miss Mathis” had: “… established herself as a motion picture technician and one of the cleverest handlers of big situations, ranging from graceful comedy to heart-gripping drama.” The creation, by Metro Pictures Corp.’s production arm, Screen Classics, Inc., of ‘fewer, bigger and better’ productions, from September the 1st 1919, had her undivided attention. And she was quoted as saying: ‘Give me the human drama. Let it be a story about my fellow human beings—their hopes and fears, their joys and sorrows. Let me cry with them, but let them be human.’

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The Screen Classics, Inc./Metro Pictures Corp. studios.

Unaware of the forthcoming human drama of two fellow human beings, Acker and Valentino, almost under her very nose; individuals, with hopes, fears, joys and definite sorrows, Mathis adapted Lombardi, Ltd. according to her instincts. To get an idea of any differences between the stage version and the screen version we’ve only to look at reviews. Such as the complimentary one we see, in THE WASHINGTON HERALD, on Monday, October 20th, 1919. Which begins with the sentence: “Seldom in picturizing a former stage success has the original acting version been so strictly adhered to…” And went on to explain that: “The logical sequence of scenes has been scrupulously observed with the result that the shadow drama …. preserves all of the directness and all of the dramatic power of the play…” This information helps me to be certain that the cinematic Daisy wasn’t, despite being reduced slightly in importance by June, too dissimilar to the theatrical Daisy. Which is significant, given my belief the actions of both her character, and those of the opposite character, were a real influence on events.

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In my post, December 1919, in December 2018, I looked in some detail at the run up to the meeting of Jean and Rudy — at least from his perspective. On a night in early September, Rudolph Valentino found himself at Venice nightspot, The Ship. Spotting friend Dagmar Godoswky, he approached her table, but met with rejection from Alla Nazimova — which triggered a rejection by all gathered. (Godowsky’s recollection was it was a celebration of the conclusion of shooting of Nazimova’s next spectacular.) Within days the humiliated Valentino became acquainted with a young woman present at the venue: Jean Acker. The location, this time, was the newly-bought home of the established stage and screen star Pauline Frederick. At this more congenial dinner party – Gavin Lambert’s claim that it marked the end of the filming of Madame X (1920) is incorrect as it began production the following Spring – Jean was alone.

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‘Polly’ Frederick’s new home in 1920.

Acker, I’m sure, instantly recognised the beautifully dressed, well-mannered Italian so horribly insulted by Madame Nazimova. After being introduced by ‘Polly’ he asked Jean to dance. She declined. Instead they sat under “a California moon” and talked, and talked — then, talked some more. The discussion is unrecorded. Yet we know that they found themselves understanding and liking one another. It was, after all, the collision of two rather similar people. Individuals who were somewhat battered and bruised by life and their profession. Victims, both, of the great Diva Nazzy. The Force. Someone that, as Dagmar Godowsky explains, in First Person Plural: The Lives of DAGMAR GODOWSKY, by Herself (1958), her autobiography, only: “… had to raise an eyebrow and everyone shook.” (Rudy was to call Dagmar a couple of days afterwards to tell her all about it and how he felt about Jean.)

Eyes
Rudolph Valentino and Clara Kimball Young in Eyes of Youth (1919).

Miss Acker probably spoke of her return to the profession the previous year, her arrival on the West Coast, and her most recent film. It would be strange – impossible – for her not to have told him all about Metro Pictures Corp. and the powerful people she knew there. And of her plans for the future. Mr. Valentino had his own tale to tell of course. How he’d got started in the business in 1916; had shifted West the following year; about his serious struggles; and how he’d recently completed working with Clara Kimball Young, in Eyes of Youth (1919). Likewise, it would be odd, odd and unlikely, for him not to ask questions about Metro Pictures Corp. About June Mathis. And about Maxwell Karger. And to see if they had mutual friends. (After all they’d both spent many years in New York and its environs.) If Jean, so recently Daisy, didn’t yet see in Rudy a Rickey, she certainly saw a young man that she felt she could trust. Someone she could enjoy being with and maybe see again. If not, then why did they see one another again? And then again? Was he, I wonder, employing his “credo”, as reproduced in a newspaper, in 1922? 1. Never play at love unless you feel the urge. Insincere lovemaking is cheating—and you cheat yourself most of all. 2. Never try cave-man tactics on the woman you love. That’s a sure way to lose her if she’s worth winning. 3. Be patient. Never try to kiss a woman the first or the second time you meet her. And never reveal your purpose, whatever it may be, until she is used to you and trusts you. Perhaps, like me, you picture her receiving a tender kiss on the hand as they said farewell — not a difficult thing to imagine!

Desmond

Over the next eight weeks they saw one another irregularly. Though Lombardi, Ltd. (1919) had been wrapped (at least for Jean and the principals), by the time of the Frederick soiree, it appears Acker was busy for some of the time working on The Blue Bandana (1919); a Robertson-Cole Productions film, the Star of which was William Desmond. (Having been considered “specially fitted for the part” of Ruth Yancy, she’d been loaned out, and the movie was released, quickly, on November 16th.) On his side, Rudolph’s latest role, as Cabaret Parasite, Clarence Morgan, in Eyes of Youth (1919), was very much In The Can. And he was at a loose end, not having yet secured the part of Prince Angelo Della Robbia, in Passion’s Playground (1920). Contractless, and without a studio, he would, between their dates, be looking for his next opportunity. (I begin to think it was at this time that he went to see Sessue Hayakawa, to ask about joining his company, at the facility at which Jean was at work. Something mentioned in Sessue’s autobiography, ZEN showed me the Way… to peace, happiness and tranquility and harmony (1960), on page 144. He also says Acker worked for him after they’d married.)

Screenshot (1189)
A Bird’s Eye View of Hollywood Boulevard from Lookout Mountain in 1919.

No doubt they went on a short trip or two in Jean Acker’s auto. And enjoyed an evening here or there dancing. Being outdoor types, and accomplished riders, they absolutely rode in the Hollywood Hills — in fact, we know they did. And it would be surprising if they hadn’t seen at least one motion picture. Is it possible that they went to watch the September 16th evening preview of Lombardi, Ltd. (1919), at the Hollywood Theatre, at 6724 Hollywood Boulevard? I think so. And it’s quite likely, in the following month, the couple could’ve enjoyed an advance screening of Eyes of Youth (1919), as such private viewings were happening in October, in advance of a big trade preview in New York, on the 30th. Fun for them both, if so. Despite it emphasizing the real differences in their positions in the industry. Jean was, so far, more experienced and more successful; was better known and better connected; and, receiving a regular weekly salary of several hundred dollars.

RV (3)

A couple of years later, in Chapter Three of My Life Story, his life so far, as related to PHOTOPLAY Magazine, and published in their April 1923 edition, Valentino went into some detail. Firstly: “It was at a party at Miss Frederick’s that I met Miss Jean Acker. I thought her very attractive. But I did not see her again for some time.” After meeting her once more: “I fell in love with her. I think you might call it love at first sight.” Reminiscing about their horseride: “It was like an Italian day. Romance was shining everywhere, and the world looked beautiful. That day I proposed to Miss Acker. It seemed spontaneous and beautiful then. But as I look back, now, it seems more like a scene [from] a picture with me acting the leading part.”

Acker (2)
Jean Acker in 1921.

I feel, here, it’s worth looking at the conversations about matrimony between Daisy and Rickey, in Lombardi, Ltd. Though the dialogue would’ve been seriously pruned for intertitling, I’m certain the general tone was retained. Pages 106, 107 and 108, in Act II, as follows:

Page 106

RICKEY.  (At R. of DAISY and close to her)  Say, ducks, I must have you.  Just naturally must.  And you might just as well slip me that “Yes” now, because I’ll bother you to death till you do.  Come on, will you have me, lovey ?

DAISY.  Are you offering me marriage ?

RICKEY.  Surest thing you know.  Honourable marriage.  (Takes both hands in his and leads her so that she is just R. of lower end of the settee.)  Bride’s cake, veils, rice and that little gold band that your sex thinks so well of, and besides that, Daisy, l-o-v-e, and I’m full of it.

DAISY.  (Backing to corner of settee for support)  It’s my first !  (Sits on settee.) My !  It does give you a thrilling feeling, just like the books say.  Have you asked many other girls that ?

RICKEY.  What ?  To marry me ?  (Sits next to Daisy on settee above her.)

DAISY.  Uh, huh !

RICKEY.  Peaches, you are number one absolutely. Daisy, you’re the first little woman I ever saw that I wanted to make the Mrs.

DAISY.  Yes, I bet I am !

RICKEY.  (Laughing.)  You are.

DAISY.  Oh, yes.  Oh, yes.  Doubtless.  Doubtless.

RICKEY.  I’ve had some flirts, of course.  I don’t set up to be a Saint Anthony, but wedding rings; no, lovey lamb, just my little Daisy.  (Embraces her.)

Page 107

DAISY.  (Gives audible sign of content.)  Oh, I just wish you wasn’t a chauffeur, because I do like you—lots.  (Breaking away from his embrace.)  Only, I can’t—honest, I can’t.  (Rising and crossing to c.)

RICKEY.  (Rises and shows disappointment)  Why, Daisy ?

DAISY.  I’ve made up my mind I’m going to have things and money and lots of it.

RICKEY.  (Following DAISY)  But I love you, Daisy, and I’ll make you love me.  Won’t you take a chance ?

DAISY.  (Waving him off)  Now, please go away.  I don’t want to say, “Yes.”  I’m not going to marry a mechanic.   (Crossing to R. below table.)  I cannot do it.  (Continues around R. of table and above it.)

RICKEY.  (Disappointed, but still persisting, he crosses up L. of table and meets DAISY just above it)  Well, all right, if that’s the way you feel about it, but, Daisy, I want you to know that I would carry you around on my two hands.  (Extends his hands palms up, forgetting that he had previously turned the rings he is wearing.)

DAISY.  (About to take his hands, notices the diamonds in his rings; staggers)  My Gawd !  Are those stones gen-u-ine ?

RICKEY.  Eh?  Oh, yes.  Belonged to my father.  Want one?  (Taking off ring from left hand.) 

DAISY.  Oh, you mean it ?  (RICKEY puts ring on her finger.)  Ain’t it swell.  I never did see one bigger.  But it wouldn’t be right because I ain’t goin’ to swerve from my purpose—take it off, please.

(Pause.  DAISY  takes  off  the  ring,  handing  it  to  RICKEY,  who  replaces  it  on  his finger  as  she  continues  speech.)

RICKEY.  It’s yours; it’s for you.

DAISY.  I just wish I could see my way clear to…

Page 108

taking it, and you, too, Mr.—what’s that queer name you’ve got ?

RICKEY.  Never mind, Daisy.  Just call me Rickey.  My name is Italian and your dear little lips could never pronounce it.

DAISY.  (In astonishment)  Are you Eye-Talian ?  Oh, that’s grand.

RICKEY.  Wouldn’t you like to try some Italian hugs today ?

DAISY.  Oh, maybe—I might.

I find this exchange between Daisy and Rickey in the play quite startling. Of course this isn’t Jean and Rudy, yet, the similarites between the stage characters that became screen characters, and the actual people, who were screen performers and became a couple, albeit briefly, is remarkable. And the sequence I retype couldn’t be more aligned. Even though, as I say, it would’ve been seriously boiled down, in terms of explanatory text insertions between frames, in the Metro Pictures Corp. adaptation.

Daisy’s very uncertain. (As Jean obviously was.) Rickey subjects her to repeated requests and is persistent. (As Rudy reportedly did and was.) The pursued is clear his (apparent) lowly position is a serious obstacle. (Valentino wasn’t as notable as Acker.) Daisy remains resolved and won’t be swerved. (Jean was likewise resolute.) Rickey’s surname’s difficult to pronounce. (As was Rudy’s which was Guglielmi.) We can only wonder if the back and forth between Daisy and Rickey after the reproduced segment was similar in reality. And if, like her onstage self, the offstage Acker suggested that they should: … be pals and play around and not talk about getting married so soon? Yet, get married Acker and Valentino did after all, and soon. Around midnight, on Wednesday, the 5th of November, 1919.

There are, remarkably, two versions of what happened, and how it all came to pass. And while not dramatically different, they’re diferent enough to have us wondering which is correct. In the first, the pair had been riding on the 5th, probably in the morning, and Jean received her seventh proposal and was invited to elope to Santa Ana that day, but declined both the suggestion of marriage and the elopement. Mostly, this was due to the fact the pair, or one of them, had been invited to an important event that night; a party being thrown for Mr. and Mrs. Richard A. Rowland, President of Metro Pictures Corp., by Joseph W. Engel, the company Treasurer, at his home. It was at this gathering that the two sweethearts were encouraged by friends to wed. Resulting in a mad rush to secure a licence and a Minister/Priest by the end of the day. (The Officiator was the Rev. James I Myers of the Broadway Christian Church.) The second version begins in the same way, with a ride, except, on the previous day, the 4th. In this alternative account, Acker accepted the final matrimonial invitation, and later that day Valentino ran into Maxwell Karger (at an unknown Hollywood hotel (which was likely The Hollywood Hotel)). Mr. Karger, Jean’s Boss at her studio, having learned from Rudy about their plans, suggested they marry at the celebration for the Rowlands, the next evening, at the home of Engel. All leading to a great deal of driving around in Jean Acker’s car, on that day and the next, to arrange everything. And nuptials at the party by midnight on the 5th. The spectators, besides Mr. and Mrs. Engel, Mr. and Mrs. Rowland, and Mr. and Mrs. Karger, included Mr. and Mrs. Fred Warren, May Allison, Herbert Blache, [J.] Frank Brockliss and Charles Brown. (The latter version, corroborated by PHOTOPLAY Magazine, is from Natacha Rambova’s serialized, 1930 look, at her late former Husband’s life and career, The Truth About Rudolph Valentino.)

Whichever’s truest, after their respective I dos, champagne and many congratulations, they headed by themselves for the famous Hotel Hollywood (a place which had once sheltered Alla Nazimova), where Jean was then accommodated. On leaving the location of the ceremony they were unquestionably on a high. Happy. Smiling. And looking ahead with optimism to married life. Waved off by the Engels, the Rowlands, the Kargers and the others, and with perhaps a couple of tin cans tied to Acker’s auto., they drove off into matrimony, with every reason to expect that it was to be blissful. So, awful it was, when, in between the door of the Engel’s abode and the door to Acker’s hotel room, something unpleasant happened.

Several decades later, a young Patricia Neal, who’d befriended Jean Acker, and was renting an apartment from her (in a block she owned in Beverly Hills), was at some point informed by her Landlady that, soon after the exchanging of vows, Rudolph Valentino had told his Bride he’d once suffered from a sexually-transmitted disease: Gonhorrea. In her early 2000s biography, Dark Lover: The Life and Death of Rudolph Valentino (2003), Emily W. Leider reveals (in the NOTES section), this was information supplied to her in a personal communication with the Actress in 1998. And, in MISALLIANCE, the chapter in question, advises the reader that it’s credible, due to it being: “confided in private to a friend…” At the time of writing, and before and after publication, Leider didn’t have at her disposal information later made available by Jeanine Therese Villalobos, in her dissertation, Rudolph Valentino: The Early Years, 1895-1920. That dissertation presents evidence that the fourteen-year-old Rodolfo actually contracted Syphilis, in a brothel, in Taranto. And that he spent a long time in bed recovering; and it was during this lengthy spell in his room, that he mentioned it to a friend in a letter.

HotelHoll

While he was, Jeanine proposes, potentially symptom free, in 1919, he felt duty bound to admit his former affliction. Whenever it happened – in the vehicle when they arrived, or, on a comfortable banquette inside of Hotel Hollywood – it was obviously a terrible blow for his Bride. This female, who’d been so cautious with males, and had had, I’m certain, previous unpleasant experiences, and who’d found herself trusting Rodolfo Guglielmi to the point of becoming his Wife, must’ve been very shocked. It appears that she somehow slipped away, got the key to her room, and went inside and locked the door.

Hollywood_Hotel_register

Following her a little later, and attempting to enter and finding he was unable to, the Bridegroom became angry and knocked loudly, and then began hammering. Inside, his Wife, tearfully told him to go away and leave her alone. Which he subsequently did, the noise having awoken guests, who probably remonstrated. He was it seems confused by her behaviour. Perplexed. At a loss. His retreat to his own rooms must’ve been a sad and sorry one. And it’s doubtful he slept unless out of sheer exhaustion. Not long afterwards Jean left her room and went to see Mrs. Anna Karger. Once in her presence she declared that getting married had been a terrible mistake. Sufficiently soothed, Acker then left the Kargers, and headed to her girlfriend Grace Darmond’s home.

Darmond16(2)

Almost immediately newspapers and trade publications reported the hasty union. One of the earliest, was Wid’s DAILY, on Saturday, November 8th, 1919. As follows:

Married at Midnight

Hollywood—Jean Acker who

played Daisy the model in Metro’s

“Lombardi, Ltd.,” married Rodolpho

Valentino, an actor, at midnight

Wednesday.

In Lombardi Miss Acker was in

love with a young Italian whom she

then marries.

Joseph Engel of Metro, had an af-

fair at his home at which Jean and

Valentino were present when they

decided to get married.

At midnight, then, they they searched

for a license clerk and a minister.

He and Mrs. Karger were

witnesses to the ceremony.

Incredibly the story kept being printed for about two months, long after it had all gone sour, and Rudy had nearly spent Christmas 1919 alone. After telling him, a day or two later, that they’d made a mistake and could neevr be happy, Jean successfully evaded Rudy for the rest of November; during which time he repeatedly telephoned, attempted, unsuccessfully, to see her (at Hotel Hollywood and at Darmond’s), and wrote to her. A letter from him that month on the 22nd ended: “Understand that you will make the trip to New York absolutely against my will and that I’m always ready to furnish you with a home and all the comforts to the best of my moderate means and ability, as well as all the love and care of a husband for his dear little wife. Please, Jean, darling, come to your senses and give me an opportunity to prove to you my sincere love and eternal devotion. Rudolph.”

HerWeddingDay
Douglas Gerrard, acting, in the Teens, in a film titled: Her Wedding Day.

It would seem that Valentino’s constant attempts to get through to Acker eventually paid off. According to the testimony of steadfast friend, Dougie Gerrard, at their divorce trial in December 1921, Jean Acker was brought to his flat/apartment by Rudolph Valentino sometime soon after the communication of the 22nd. (A week later, or, possibly longer.) “I suggested going to the Alexandria. This was agreeable.” he stated. “I said to myself: ‘That’s alright; they are together, thank God.’ ” Yet, the reunion was a temporary one, as he revealed. The next day Rudy was ecstatic. But the day after he appeared at Gerrard’s to tell him that Mrs. Guglielmi had once again left him. Amazed, Dougie took matters into his own hands, and telephoned Jean to see what the problem was. “I asked her why she and her husband could not live together. She said: ‘He is impossible, he is dictatorial and I’m not going to live with him any more.’ ”

Jean_and_Rudy

Looking at her communications afterwards makes it difficult to take her side. In a letter, dated December 15th, clearly composed after a ‘phone conversation, she wrote: “Rudolph Darling… Your voice did sound awfully good and cheerful tonight and last night it made me so lonesome for you. …. Dearest boy of mine I wish you were in my arms… When will I be there again? …. Heartful of love, sweetheart. JEAN.” And in a Telegram on December 29th: “Impossible to spend New Year’s with you. Leaving Tuesday afternoon for vacation. Will wire address when arrive. Awfuly disappointed. Can’t be helped. My love. Phone me at 10 tonight. JEAN.

What could account for Jean Acker being so physically distant yet so emotionally close? Putting aside his revelation, which he may again have mentioned and reassured her about, there’s a clue in his letter in late November, and her response to Dougie Gerrard’s question. Rudolph Valentino was telling her what she could and couldn’t do. Her trip to New York wasn’t acceptable to him. And being told this wasn’t acceptable to her. I think the phrase he employs, “dear little wife”, says a great deal about his general attitude. An attitude that the “dear little wife” highlighted in another Telegram from January 16th. “Wire and telephone calls very sweet, but letter entirely too sarcastic. Make your own plans for the East and advise strongly you do not come here as I am working much too hard to entertain anyone and hotel only have room for the company.” JEAN. The Bride was obviously bridling.

Acker was, of course, a person on the whole very used to making up her own mind. It’s plain to me, and hopefully to you, that since her start eight years earlier, at the end of 1911, she’d managed to find a way to be independent of a man, if not of men, in a male-dominated era. And to be expected to become dependent, be subservient, be his Little Wife, was next to impossible. Unthinkable, even.

Rudy_to_Jean

I strongly feel Jean Acker saw in Rudolph Valentino, if only fleetingly, and up to their nuptials, a person that she could unite with. A kindred spirit. I think that he engaged her in such a way and on such a level that he broke down her defences. I think, too, she saw, as I’m sure he did in her, somebody that could help her be more accepted. Someone that might make her look like everyone else in Hollywood. A place where many were united in marriage and enjoyed the resulting camaraderie.

Yet, it wasn’t, on both sides, to be. Jean didn’t receive a visit in Mojave in January from Rudolph. And he did make his own plans for the East. (A trip which would prove to be fateful.) However, despite their inability to make a go of it, they were, as we know, to remain married for another two years. And not only that, as will be seen in Part Three, connected, entwined, interwoven, call-it-what-you-will, not just until the dissolution of their marriage, but beyond. Even beyond the death of Rudolph Valentino. And, as this post demonstrates, beyond the death of Jean Acker. And even beyond this post. Chained for all eternity, down through time, forever.


Thank you for reading this post in its entirety — I appreciate it. As usual, any and all references and research is available to anybody who asks, if they’re not already provided in the text, as a link, or, as an image. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading about Jean Acker’s life and career as much as I enjoyed writing about it. The third installment, looking, in quick succession, at the divorce, her adoption of the name Jean Acker Valentino, her film career in the Twenties, the demise of her Husband, her ups and downs afterwards, her comeback, and the years of non-stardom, will be posted a month from now, in February. See you then!

 

 

 

New York Timeline (1915)

Late15_early16
Bonnie Glass photographed in 1915.

I don’t know why, but the years Rudolph Valentino spent in and around New York, from 1913 to 1917, fascinate me. Forty two or so months crammed with incident; six months of which are, apparently, an impenetrable void. I’ve already looked at his first weeks in: New York Timeline (1913). And his first full year in: New York Timeline (1914). So it’s now time to look at the following year. A period when it all appears to have gone well for him. Like the others, this post is titled: New York Timeline (1915).

January

Rodolfo Guglielmi, now known, professionally, as Rudolph, begins the year in the same pursuit he ended the previous one: dancing with Bonnie Glass. While he’s happy to have been able to turn his back on being a dancer for hire, at Maxim’s, he soon discovers that his new occupation isn’t, in any-way-shape-or-form, an easy one. The first weeks of 1915 are filled with gruelling rehearsals, followed by a nerve-wracking performance at the Winter Garden Theatre, and then nightly dancing with Glass, at her own establishment, Cafe Montmartre.

Jan3rd1915

the 3rd

Rudy, titled Mons. Rudolph, assists Bonnie at Rectors, on Broadway, at 48th Street. Also listed as performing that evening, at New York’s Greatest Restaurant Attraction, are ‘The Marvellous Millers’ The World’s Greatest Whirlwind Dancers, and Mudge and Terantino.

the 4th to the 23rd

During these days – it’s unknown when – the Rectors deal ends and the Cafe Boulevard deal begins. Preparations for the new venue are intensive.

WGT
The Winter Garden Theatre in 1915.

the 24th

On Sunday, the 24th of January, the pair are amongst “17 acts”, at the Winter Garden Theatre, 1634 Broadway, Manhattan. One of “two modern dancing turns” – Clifton Webb and Eileen Molyneux are the other couple – they perform two dances. One, a Cakewalk (seemingly stolen from Mr. and Mrs. Seabury, according to Sime, reviewing for VARIETY), and another, which is “similar”. Their “opening music” is [The] Glow Worm. While their slot, is the penultimate one, right before the Headliner, Al Jolson. Jolson entertains the capacity crowd for 40 minutes, with four songs and several stories, and much silly and hilarious behaviour.

That same day newspapers report that the Cafe Boulevard grille will soon be opened as Cafe Montmartre. And: “Miss Glass will dance after the theatre nightly with her partner, Rudolph.”

Variety300115

the 27th

On Wednesday, the 27th of January, after several weeks of preparations, Bonnie and ‘Rudolph’ appear, for the first time, at her new venture Cafe Montmarte, formerly the grille of Cafe Boulevard, at Broadway and 41st Street. The establishment has received a great deal of advance press attention due to it supposedly featuring an innovation — a female only bar.

Bonnie_Glass

Bonnie Glass was A Woman With A Past. Back in July 1910, while still Miss Helen C. Roche, she’d been named as ‘corespondent’, in the divorce of Mr. and Mrs. John H. Kimball. (Mr Kimball was a “young broker”.) Half a year later, at the start of 1911, while employed as a Hat Model, at Roxbury, Massachusetts, she eloped with a Harvard Senior, named Graham Glass Jr. Their quickie marriage was not looked upon favourably by the Groom’s wealthy parents. And, after his allowance was slashed to $5 a month, the marriage foundered, ending in divorce that December. During the next eighteen months it appears she moved to New York, renamed herself Bonnie Glass, and was at some point in the Zeigfeld Follies. By the end of 1913, she was being mentioned in THE NEW YORK CLIPPER, as being in a double act, with Lew Quinn. And, at the same time, was dancing with him at “Murray’s on 42nd Street”, for which they were receiving, presumably as a team, $500 per week. The next year, she built on her success, and first with Al. Davis, and then Clifton Webb, became an extremely important Exhibition Dancer.

Cafe Boulevard Inc. was in financial trouble at the start of 1915. And so I imagine the deal between Glass, and the owners, was something of an effort to modernise the venue, and bring in new and more fashionable customers.

The competitor establishments and competitor dancers at this time were: Chez Maurice, formerly Palais de Danse, Broadway and 50th Street, featuring Maurice (Mouvet) and Florence Walton; Castles in the Air, atop the 44th Street Theatre, featuring Mr. and Mrs. Vernon Castle; and the Persian Garden, at Broadway and 50th Street, featuring Ida Adams and Nigel Barrie.

February

Throughout the month, newspaper adverts inform New York’s populace, that the Cafe Montmartre is open for business. Every Thursday there’s a theme. On Thursday the 11th of February, there’s a Costume Dance, with prizes for “artistic costumes and graceful dancing”. The following Thursday the theme is Mephisto with “SPECIAL FEATURES”.

the 22nd and the 23rd

On Monday the 22nd, and Tuesday the 23rd of February, Glass and Guglielmi dance at B. F. Keith’s Colonial Theatre, at Broadway and 62nd Street. Bonnie appears with Rudy and another gentleman, at the 1,300 seat Music Hall style venue, and they’re supported by a “colored orchestra”. Glass’s facial expressions don’t impress in the same way her outfits do. (The second male partner is named simply: Casemello.)

February1915

the 25th

At Cafe Montmartre on the last Thursday of the month, Bonnie, assisted once again by Rudolph, dances a special exhibition dance.

It’s probable that the two appearances at the Colonial Theatre were part of a week long engagement.

1915

March

March is an interesting month. After briefly being, Montmartre at Cafe Boulevard, the name is for some unknown reason dropped completely, and the pair are performing daily at Cafe Boulevard. Then it’s announced Glass may take over the Persian Room in “the Winter Garden Building”. Next, Bonnie Glass’s, Bonnie Glass & Co., obviously including Rudy, is engaged to perform during the afternoon, at B. F. Keith’s Orpheum Theatre. And much else happens besides.

Screenshot (2544)

the 13th

Following advertisements on the 9th and on the 11th, the one in the New York Tribune, on Saturday the 13th, for Cafe Boulevard, is the final one to feature Bonnie Glass assisted by Rudolph. The recent name changes – Cafe Montmartre to Montmartre to nothing – are a clue that all hasn’t been going too well recently between Glass and Cafe Boulevard, Inc.

Mar13th

Another advert, that same day, on Page Two of BROOKLYN LIFE, reveals that, from the following Monday, the 15th, Bonnie Glass, assisted by Rudolph and E. Casemello, will be doing matinee dances.

Palace

the 15th

On Monday the 15th of March, after their afternoon slot at the Orpheum, Bonnie and Rudy dance (at short notice) in the evening, at B. F. Keith’s Palace Theatre, when the regular performer is unavailable. Miss Glass closes the bill that night with “a series of modern dances”. In her final number she introduces two male partners (Rudolph and Casemello), which is considered, by Wynn, reviewing for VARIETY that week, to be “out of the ordinary”. For Wynn, Glass has improved since her debut the previous season. However, the reviewer feels that modern dancing is: “… gradually losing its vaudeville claims…” And Glass seemed “a bit tardy.” (She was probably a little tired.)

Contest

the 19th

On Friday the 19th of March, after performing at the Orpheum Theatre, Bonnie and Rudolph take park in a Cakewalk contest, at the New York Roof. The venue is very busy; their opponents are Dave Genaro and Ada Portser (the resident dancers it seems); and the competition judges are: Dave Montgomery, Frank Tinney and Dazie. The crowd are behind Genaro and Portser, but the three judges aren’t as certain. Eventually, however, they decide the winners are the residents, and the guest dancers the losers.

the 29th

On Monday the 29th of March, Bonnie Glass & Co. perform a “fancy routine” of “modern ballroom steps” at a particularly busy Palace Theatre, at Broadway and 47th Street. (The show was described as a Big Sunday Concerts on the 27th.)

As adverts this month show, Bonnie Glass, and her assistant Monsieur Rudolph, are under the direction of, or management of, a Mr. Myron S. Bentham; a very powerful and well-known theatrical agent at the time. Why Bentham – in February, he’d been involved in a serious punch-up, on Broadway, with rival Max Hart – is so forgotten is a bit of a mystery. His brief obituary, in THE FINAL CURTAIN, in The Billboard, on the 3rd of April, 1948, clearly states he was Valentino’s Agent. As well as also taking care of: Irene Bordoni, Ina Claire, Laurette Taylor, Helen Morgan, Alice Brady, Leon Errol, Mary Eaton and W. C. Fields.

The fact that Bonnie and Rudy and E. Casemello were performing, at the Orpheum Theatre, in Brooklyn, raises the question: were they travelling there each day, or resident, somewhere, locally, during the engagement? Sadly there’s no answer to this question.

Keith
B. F. Keith.

April

In April – almost the entire month it seems – Bonnie Glass & Co. have no engagements. Until, that is, the final week, when they perform at B. F. Keith’s Theatre, at Boston. Bonnie’s troupe is promoted as: “The Cleverest of Society Dancers and Tangoists!” And the offer is described as: “… a Cycle of Dances, Assisted by Cafe Boulevard Orchestra Seated Upon the Stage!”

the 26th

On Monday, the 26th of April, Bonnie Glass and Mons. Rudolph appear at B. F. Keith’s Theatre, at Boston.

Scan697
Rudy and Bonnie sometime in 1915. Possibly at Boston.

the 27th

The next day THE BOSTON GLOBE newspaper tells readers that: “Much applauded were the sprightly dances of Bonnie Glass, who tripped the latest wrinkles in the changing art, while an orchestra played on the stage.”

the 28th, 29th and 30th

Daily newspaper adverts show that Bonnie Glass & Co. perform daily for the delight of audiences at B. F. Keith’s Theatre.

May1915
Bonnie in the press with her Hound in May.

May

Through no fault of his own, Rudolph finds himself idle in May, due to the involvement of Bonnie in the Eugenia Kelly Scandal. The Boston engagement only just extends into the new month, however it seems he lingered there, before heading back to New York. A major development for him, and his family back in Italy, is the entry of the country into The Great War, on the side of The Triple Entente (Russia, France and Great Britain), on the 23rd.

the 1st

Advertisements confirm that ‘Mons. Rudolph’ continues to assist Bonnie at the B. F. Keith Theatre in Boston. However, no further ones suggest this was their final, or penultimate performance. (Making it a six or seven day stretch.)

the 2nd to the 21st

Due to his correspondence with his mother, and the timing of their respective messages, it appears that Rudy stayed at Boston after the engagement at the B. F. Keith Theatre was concluded. How long isn’t known.

the 22nd

On Saturday, the 22nd of May, 19-year-old Heiress, Eugenia Kelly (at the time estranged from her widowed Mother), appears in court in Manhattan. Arrested the previous night, by a Private Detective, at Penn. Station, and then released on bail, she’s charged with Incorrigibility. During the subsequent hearing, all sorts of embarrassing details emerge about the young woman’s behaviour, in the cabarets and dance halls of New York. How her enjoyment of cigarettes, late hours and wine, has driven a wedge between them, and led to Eugenia leaving to live with her sister. That her weekly allowance of $75 – almost $2,000 today – is, regularly, her mother testifies, wasted on “a coterie of men”. That her daughter had, so far, borrowed $5,000 from “loan brokers”. And that a string of pearls and diamonds that was a gift had gone missing. Under cross-examination, Mrs. Kelly is forced to admit that, she, too, often frequents cabarets and dance halls; that she drinks brandy and other liquors; and she had, on at least one occasion, subjected Miss Kelly to violence. (By slapping her face.)

the 23rd

More details emerge. Eugenia Kelly frequents up to five restaurants and late cafes each night, such as: the Beaux Arts, the Domino Room, [Cafe] Boulevard, the Kaiserhof and Maxim’s. And her “coterie” includes: Al. Davis, [‘Bunny’] Essler, ‘Jimmy’ Greenberg and ‘Dickie’ Warner. (Warner’s the man who invited Rudy to cohabit in 1914 and Davis and Greenberg are both dancers.) At a recent, raucous party, at the Kelly home, one of the gentlemen drank Mrs. Kelly’s brandy. Afterwards, Miss Kelly informed her mother that he was a drug user, and for $15: “… anyone …. could get all the drugs he or she wanted.”

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In other reports it’s disclosed that the person who alerted the mother to her daughter’s behaviour was Bonnie Glass. Who’d telephoned her, to tell her she was consorting with Glass’s former dancing partner, and lover, Al. Davis/Albert J. Davis; a married man, with a young son. (On Tuesday, the 25th, in THE SUN,  it’s reported that an eye-witness, Frank Richards, formerly a Waiter at Reisenweber’s, Bustanoby’s and Murray’s, had seen both Bonnie and Al. arguing with each other about Eugenia.)

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the 24th

On Monday, the 24th of May, the day of the reopening of the case (after adjournment at the weekend after a motion for dismissal was denied), an in-depth interview with Dickie Warner, conducted the previous day, Sunday, is published in the New York Tribune. In it he verifies it was indeed Bonnie Glass “who was in our crowd” that “tipped Ma off”. That it was Ma Kelly who introduced him – Warner – to Eugenia Kelly two years before. And after speaking with Eugenia on the telephone (parts of the conversation on Dickie’s side being included), that: “There are a lot of prominent names to be brought into this thing yet. The whole story has not been told. But this is all I can tell you for now.”

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A lively, interesting cartoon from the 25th. Has anybody here seen Kelly? is added top right.

the 25th

On Tuesday, the 25th of May, after much scandalous detail, the day before, in court, and more threatened, a reconciliation is achieved between mother and daughter. (This will, not surprisingly, prove to be temporary.) Yet the dismissed case will almost immediately spark something of a crack down. And in subsequent days newspapers are filled with further revelations, and details of how the authorities plan to prevent young, and often wealthy women, being targeted by unscrupulous men.

We no longer see E. Casemello as a second dancer in the Bonnie Glass & Co. adverts and reviews from this point.

It’s while he’s in Boston that Rudy writes and sends his mother a postcard, telling her that he’s there for the first time, doing well, and enjoying himself. Late in May he received a postcard from his mother written in French. After a few general lines she unburdens herself about Italy’s entry into the European conflict. Writes of her worries for Jules – a cousin? – and his older brother Alberto. And tells him she often looks at the photograph he’s sent to her of himself. (This is believed to be the only surviving communication from his time in New York.)

The Eugenia Kelly Affair, which predated a similar scandal, the Blanca de Saulles Affair, by a whole year, gives us invaluable insight into Rudy’s environment, in the years 1914 and 1915. Involvement of persons he knew – Glass, Warner, Davis and others – means that the whole thing was very close to him. If, not so close, it turns out, that he himself was involved; as he was to be, in 1916, with Mrs. de Saulles.

June

For the entire month, according to VARIETY, Bonnie and Rudolph are part of the revue, A Midnight Fantasy, at Castles in the Air, on the roof of the 44th Street Theatre.

July

The first half of July seems to be quiet for Rudy. I saw nowhere any engagements for his Employer, Bonnie, or for him, probably due to the heat. Later in the month they begin a spell at B. F. Keith’s Palace Theatre.

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the 26th

On Monday, the 26th of July, in the evening, Bonnie and Rudolph perform at B. F. Keith’s Palace Theatre, at Broadway and 47th Street. Their billing is a respectable third, behind Headliner, The International Star of Song, Grace La Rue, and Nat M. Wills, The Happy Tramp. It’s a hot Summer night. So hot, that the theatre is providing free palm leaf fans, and “delicious lemonade”. Bonnie Glass and Mons. Rudolph dance “entertainingly” just before the intermission. Miss La Rue’s repertoire doesn’t impress a critic at VARIETY as much as her “new wardrobe” does.

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Grace La Rue.

In later years, in My Vaudeville Years, Grace La Rue would reveal how, at about this time, late July/early August, she encountered Rudy backstage all hot and bothered. According to La Rue he constantly mopped his brow and suffered from wilting shirt collars. As there wasn’t a mirror in his dressing room she supplied him with hers. And recalled his telling her: “I am too soft. I haven’t danced enough. And besides, I must lose a little weight.” You can hear Grace singing A Tango Dream, in 1914, here. And there’s an extremely detailed biography on YouTube here.

Might June and July be when Valentino travels to and from Mineola at Long Island to learn to fly? He certainly had enough free time!

NewBrighton

August

After perhaps a fortnight to a month at the Palace Theatre, Bonnie Glass & Co. switch to the New Brighton Theatre, at Coney Island, New York. (See image above.)

the 20th

VARIETY details, on Page Thirteen, that Bonnie Glass & Co. will be performing from the 23rd at the [New]Brighton [Theatre].

the 23rd

On Monday, the 23rd of August, Bonnie and Rudolph begin an engagement of unknown length at the New Brighton Theatre, at Coney Island, New York.

the 28th and the 29th

The Eugenia Kelly Affair bubbles up once more in the press. And Bonnie is mentioned.

September

Rudy’s September of 1915 is a far cry from his September of 1914. He’s earning a good weekly salary. Can afford fine clothes. And is living in pleasant accommodation. It will be a busy four weeks, that see him opposite Bonnie, first in New York, then in Washington. His trip to the capital and back and his stay there being his first.

the 6th

On Monday, 6th of September, Labor Day, Bonnie and Rudolph perform at B. F. Keith’s Colonial Theatre, at Broadway and 62nd Street, as joint “headliners”, alongside: Nat Wills, Howard and McCane and Odiva. It’s a Gala Reopening. And the others on the bill are: (Laura) Burt & (Henry) Stanford, (Geo.) McKay & (Ottie) Ardine, Tower & Darrell, Jim & Betty Morgan, and Ariel Buds.

Keiths

the 20th

“EXTRA ADDED STAR, The Broadway Danseuse Classed With the Castles, Bonnie Glass, Assisted by Mons. Rudolph and Her Famous Sherbo Orchestra” performs at B. F. Keith’s Theatre, in Washington, D. C.

the 21st, 22nd, 23rd, 24th, 25th and 26th

Bonnie and Rudy appear, Monday to Saturday, in the 2:15 and 8:15 p. m. shows. And, Sunday, in the 3:00 and 8:15 p. m. shows. And their slot is in the first half of the show at some point before the intermission. They receive praise, on the 21st, in The Washington PostThe Evening Star and The Washington Herald. The glowing reviews reveal their repertoire is: “… a military dance, an old-fashioned cakewalk …. and a Spanish number.”

the 27th to the 30th

Bonnie Glass & Co. either travel from Washington, D. C., back to New York, New York, or go from Washington D. C. directly to Buffalo, New York, in order to be at Shea’s Theatre there, to rehearse, and be ready to perform early in October. (The 27th to the 4th would be enough time to go back to Manhattan and then head Upstate.)

the 29th

An advertisement in THE BUFFALO EVENING TIMES, alerts citizens to the fact Bonnie Glass will be appearing at Shea’s Theatre, on October 4th. (On this occasion she’ll be the main attraction.)

October

So far, working with Bonnie, has taken Rudy to Boston, to Washington, and now Buffalo. Perhaps he sent another postcard to his mother telling her that he was near the border with Canada. Certainly it was an experience for him to be so far North. The excursion is not followed by any others in October. And the rest of the month is a bit of a blank when it comes to the whereabouts of either Bonnie or Rudolph.

Sheas

the 4th

Bonnie Glass assisted by Mons. Rudolph opens at Shea’s Theatre for a week-long series of afternoon and evening performances.

the 5th

On Tuesday, the 5th of October, a piece in THE BUFFALO EVENING TIMES, praises not only Bonnie, but also Mons. Rudolph and her ten piece orchestra. In the review, titled in capital letters, BONNIE GLASS SCORES TRIUMPH WITH SHEAGOERS, Rudy’s mention goes as follows: “She has brilliant support in Mons. Rudolph, who strives, in an unselfish way, to give all the credit to his fair partner.” (The punctuation is mine.)

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the 7th

In the middle of their week long engagement at Shea’s Theatre, Bonnie Glass’s Sherbo Orchestra can’t resist making a little money on the side. An advert., in THE BUFFALO COMMERCIAL, on Thursday, the 7th (see above), reveals they appear at The Lafayette’s Mahogany Room to accompany dancers there.

November

It’s difficult to see where Rudy is dancing this month — perhaps because he wasn’t. When we look at where Bonnie is we don’t see her performing anywhere. So perhaps she was resting and getting ready for a busy December.

the 4th

A story about Glass, that gives a flavour of the times, appears in the New York Tribune. According to the writer, an admirer of hers: “… has commissioned a Fifth Avenue jeweller to enamel and stud with gems the shell of a small tortoise…” destined to be her pet at: “… her beautiful house in Fifty-second Street.”

the 17th

In his column, New-York-Day-By-Day, in The Washington Herald, O. O. McIntyre writes about the rumour that Vernon Castle and Irene Castle are thinking of retiring from the exhibition dancing sphere. Vernon, McIntyre discloses, heading to Europe to fight by the 1st of January. And Irene, he reveals, planning to: “… spend the winter at their country home near New York.” Bonnie Glass too, he tells the reader, will also be quitting: “… the tango life.” Her own excuse being that she’s planning: “… to marry a very prominent Kentuckian…” (If she was it didn’t happen.)

the 19th

News, in VARIETY, of Bonnie recently importing an Hawaiian Orchestra, from Honolulu, to use “in connection with her dancing.”

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December

Bonnie Glass returns to establishment dancing – at Cabaret Mondain at 121 West 45th Street – for the first time since exiting Cafe Boulevard in the Spring. Rudy, now Signor Rodolfo, dances with her there in the afternoons. In these closing weeks, he looks back on a better year than the previous one. Even if there have been ups and downs he’s become a confident performer. And in the first half of 1916 he’ll become an even more confident and notable performer than he’s been in 1915.

the 5th

On Sunday, the 5th of December, Bonnie and Rodolfo’s dancing, at Cabaret Mondain, is promoted in a column titled WHERE TO DANCE, in THE SUN newspaper.

the 9th

“Miss Bonnie Glass Assisted by Signor Rodolfo” continue to perform at Cabaret Mondain. The host is Mr. A. Nelson Fysher, of Chez Fysher, a famous Parisian cabaret transported to the USA. And Glass is advertised as interpreting Mr. Fysher’s melodies.

the 11th

O. O. McIntyre gives his readers, and us, a great description of Chez Fysher, at Cabaret Mondain, again in his New-York-Day-By-Day column, in The Washington Herald. It is, he writes: “… the new Broadway cabaret deluxe…” A place: “… where racket and rush are tabooed and low lights, lower voices and tender silences obtain.” Mr. Fysher McIntyre explains: “… sings his own songs in French every evening…” And customers dance, drink champagne, smoke cigarettes, and eat chicken sandwiches. Importantly, the fashionable establishment is frequented by serious trendsetters; people like: “… Baron and Baroness de Meyer, Diamond Jim Brady, Miss Amy Gouraud, Mae Murray and Prince Troubetzkoy. (For me this is probably the place that both Murray and Troubetzkoy first encountered Rudy.)

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the 12th to the 30th

We assume, that in this busiest of periods, for restaurants and bars and hotels, etc., that Bonnie Glass and Rodolfo Gugliemi continue to perform at Cabaret Mondain, as part of the Chez Fysher cabaret. This assumption is supported by an ad. in The New York Times, on the 27th, that features an oval image of Glass, and gives details of a THE DANSANT, or Tea Dance, daily, from 4:30 to 6:30 p. m. Miss Glass, it says, is assisted by Rudolph.

the 31st

Bonnie – Beautiful Queen of Rhythmic Flowing Line and Winner of the Palace Medal for Dancing – and Rodolfo end 1915 performing at B. F. Keith’s Colonial Theatre, at Broadway and 62nd Street. The pair head the bill, in ‘DANCES OF THE DAY-AFTER-TOMORROW’, at a place where they were just part of the line-up at the start of the year. Glass is further described in adverts as: Cleverest, Most Fascinating Ballroom Dancer of the Period.

A story appears, in VARIETY, that Bonnie Glass is being considered for the role, currently being played by Madge Kennedy,  in Fair and Warmer. The proposition, from Selwyn & Co., is to try her out, just once, in the original cast, to see if she can be sent on the road in a secondary company. (This doesn’t transpire.)

For me, as with McIntyre’s revelation in November, this seems to indicate unease on the part of Bonnie Glass, against a backdrop of recent reports and reviews which have predicted the end of Exhibition Dancing. We might wonder how Rudy felt about her putting herself forward for other work, or, being considered for it. And where such a move would leave him, if she did indeed secure anything different.


I hope you enjoyed reading this post. As always, the sources are available to anyone who contacts me, if they’re not already embedded into the text, or added as an image. This latest timeline will be followed by others looking at the years 1916 and 1917. And there will be standalone posts for his 1916 arrest and also the missing half year. See you all in September!