The Mammoth Book of Hollywood Scandals Page 3

  Meanwhile Roscoe’s estranged wife Minta flew to California from New York so that she could support her ex-husband in any way she could. Reporters flocked to hear her opinion and she did not disappoint: “Roscoe Arbuckle is just a big lovable pleasure-loving, overgrown boy,” she said, before adding, “His success and prosperity have been a little too much for him, but he is not guilty of the hideous charge made against him in San Francisco. I am going to him because I think it is my duty to be near him – I want to help him in every way I can.”

  Asked whether the couple were going to reunite, the woman answered, “A reconciliation? That depends upon whether, when he is acquitted of this charge, I find that my place is with him and whether he finds that he is ready for a return to the life we led when we were married.”

  Distraught that he had been unfairly accused of a crime he did not commit, Roscoe wrote to his friend and producer, Joseph Schenck, and told him that he was absolutely innocent of all the accusations being held against him. “I simply tried to help someone in distress, the same as you or anyone else with human instincts would have done in the circumstance,” he said. He also assured his friend that he had done no wrong. “My heart is clean and my conscience is clear.”

  The trial of Roscoe Arbuckle began on 14 November 1921, by which time the charge had been changed to manslaughter, much to the relief of everyone involved. Every little detail was reported, from what actually went on during the proceedings, to what the women were wearing, to what the public were gossiping about in the gallery. Arbuckle’s estranged wife arrived at the courthouse to support the comic and people were so incensed by her presence that it has been said she was abused and even shot at while entering the building.

  The prosecutor during the trial was a man by the name of Matthew Brady who had great hopes and ambitions to become Governor of California and maybe even President later in his career. With that in mind, he went all out to try and prove that Arbuckle was not the sweet soul everyone thought him to be, but a monster, capable of rape and manslaughter in one foul swoop.

  Tellingly, professional finger-pointer Maude Delmont was seen as such an unreliable witness that she did not take to the stand, but those who did made a good argument for Arbuckle’s innocence. A doctor confirmed that Virginia Rappe had never mentioned that Roscoe had attacked her; a chambermaid at the hotel dispelled rumours of there being blood found on the bathroom door, while pathology experts were called to testify that Rappe’s ruptured bladder was not caused by external events at all. In fact, it seemed pretty evident from their reports that it was the result of chronic inflammation coming from inside the body, not outside, which had caused the organ to burst.

  Meanwhile, another doctor testified that Rappe had suffered from acute cystitis, while a friend was called to describe how the actress had often complained of severe abdominal pain over the course of their friendship. Then a Santa Ana saleslady threw light on Rappe’s torn clothes by declaring that on three occasions she had witnessed Virginia tear to pieces items of clothing while in the throes of abdominal pain. A friend also described how once, during a party, Virginia had ripped off her stockings to give them to an admirer. The evidence given by the people who had witnessed such events was clear: Virginia Rappe was not a healthy girl, and she had certainly been known in the past to tear at her clothes when partying or in pain.

  While listening intently to the evidence being piled up before him, Roscoe Arbuckle was nervously tearing paper into tiny little pieces. But finally it was time for him to take to the stand and, on hearing the news that he would be speaking that day, crowds gathered outside to such an extent that nobody could get into the building until the police cleared a pathway. Once on the stand he behaved in a calm, controlled and gentlemanly manner, while his estranged wife and mother-in-law both smiled and nodded their support to him from the gallery. His “performance” was impeccable; his delivery outstanding and even during what can only be described as a stressful and difficult cross-examination by the prosecution, he always remained composed and sure of every word that was coming from his mouth.

  The actor told the prosecution how he had come into his bedroom to dress, locked the door for privacy and then discovered the sick woman crumpled on his bathroom floor. He then told how he went out to get help, and gave damning evidence against Maude Delmont when asked how he found Virginia Rappe when he returned to the room:

  Nude. Mrs Delmont had some ice in a towel. There was ice on the bed and a piece of ice on Miss Rappe’s body. I picked the ice up from her body. I asked Mrs Delmont what the big idea was. She told me to put it back, that she knew how to care for Virginia, and ordered me out of the room. I told her to shut up or I would throw her out the window.

  After a great deal of questioning, recess was called, after which time the ruptured bladder of poor Virginia Rappe was carried into the courtroom as evidence. The offending organ was gawped at by the entire room before the theory was presented that perhaps the women who had dunked the woman into a tub of cold water had caused the bladder to rupture. Then questions were raised about the possibility that it had burst during a violent vomiting episode, or by falling off the bed . . . On and on it went, going round in circles with no obvious answer to any of the theories being presented.

  After many days and much evidence had passed through the court, it was time for the case to be wrapped up, and Roscoe Arbuckle sat quietly, picking at the fluff on his coat, rolling his tie and squeezing his lip while the prosecution tried to convince everyone that he was guilty. In fact, so determined was the prosecution that they even twisted the evidence to back up their own theories, claiming that Roscoe had placed ice on Rappe’s body, before telling her to shut up or he would throw her out of the window. This, of course, was a blatant lie – the ice had been placed there by Maude Delmont, and it was this woman who had been spoken to by Roscoe and told to “shut up”.

  Finally, they tried desperately to discredit every witness who dared take the stand in defence of Arbuckle, before resting their case and allowing the jury to go and make their deliberations. However, after forty-four hours of deliberation, the jury returned to the court and, on 4 December 1921, gave the news that they were deadlocked with a ten to two majority in favour of not guilty. Everyone was shocked, particularly when it was discovered that the woman who had initiated the deadlock was Mrs Hubbard, a woman who was married to a lawyer who frequently did business with the District Attorney’s office. Not only that, the woman herself was a member of a feminist organization – the very likes of which had called for Arbuckle’s films to be banned the moment he was arrested.

  “I will vote guilty until hell freezes over,” she is reported to have told the other members of the jury, refusing to listen to any information, reread transcripts or reconsider the evidence. Eventually another juror decided to join her in the call for a guilty verdict, and the entire trial was deadlocked and a mistrial declared.

  Back at home, Roscoe tried to manage the hand he had been dealt and waited for the new trial to begin. Newspaper reporters were keen to hear his side of the story, and shortly after arriving back in Los Angeles he invited them into his home and shared his feelings on what had happened during the past few months:

  This case has put quite a crimp in my pocketbook. I resent the damage it has done me because I know I am a victim of circumstance. If I had had any connection with the death of Virginia Rappe I would have said so, that is the kind of man I am. All of the dirt in this case was brought in by Mr Brady [the prosecutor]. The evidence consisted of what certain persons thought they knew – not what they were sure they knew – I have always tried to be a good scout and to treat people in the right way.

  “Do you want to continue your career?” asked one reporter, to which a heavy-hearted Arbuckle replied:

  I do not know whether or not I will ever appear in pictures again. Of course I want to. If the public wants to see me then I will go back to my work. If they don’t I’ll do something else. I won’t act again unl
ess the public shows that I will be well received. At present I have no position, no contract, and am not financially interested in any of my pictures released or awaiting release.

  He then concluded with the words of an innocent man: “I have spent some very unhappy days, but my conscience is clear and my heart is clean. I have nothing to apologize for.”

  The second trial began on 11 January 1922 and took on the same routine as before, only this time the whole experience was an utter disaster. Arbuckle’s team – for their own reasons – decided that their client would this time not take to the stand, and their whole defence seemed to lack any kind of energy and purpose. The, only shining light came when one of the party guests, Zey Prevost, decided that she could no longer remember ever saying that she had heard Virginia Rappe claim Arbuckle had hurt her. When presented with evidence of her first testimony she became hostile and bizarrely told the jury that she did not know if she had told the truth the last time she took to the stand. She then shocked everyone by presenting the bombshell that she had previously been arrested by the District Attorney and threatened with jail if she did not make a statement against Arbuckle.

  This revelation brought claims of impeachment from the prosecution, claiming that Prevost was a hostile witness who was giving a “surprising” testimony. The motion was denied by the court but even this piece of startling information was not enough to help Arbuckle and when his team barely gave any kind of closing argument, some members of the jury took this to be a sign that the actor was guilty. True enough, after forty hours of deliberation they came back into court with a hung jury once again, but this time nine to three in favour of a guilty verdict. Roscoe was devastated and proceedings were brought for yet another trial, this time to begin on 13 March 1922.

  Many lessons had been learned from the second trial, and when the third trial went ahead, this time things were very different. Roscoe was understandably wondering if he would ever be a free man again, and his defence team decided that they would be taking no chances; there would be no softly-softly approach and instead went full-steam ahead to prove his innocence.

  Roscoe testified once again and special emphasis was made on showing that Virginia Rappe was not the healthy girl she had been made out to be in the previous trials, and instead had suffered from illness for quite some time. In this regard a new witness, a nurse by the name of Virginia Warren, was brought into the court to explain how she had attended to Rappe in Chicago when she had given birth to an illegitimate daughter some years before. This of course – rightly or wrongly – convinced the jury that the woman may not have been quite the innocent young girl they had been led to believe. Then another witness, Helen Madeline Whitehurst, took to the stand to explain how she had seen Rappe unwell on a number of occasions at her home in Chicago.

  When the trial wrapped up, the jury took only six minutes to decide that Roscoe Arbuckle was an innocent man, wrongly accused of a crime he most certainly did not commit. In addition to that, they also made the unheard-of decision to issue an apology to the wronged man, signed by all of the jurors:

  We feel that a great injustice has been done him. We feel also that it was only our plain duty to give him this exoneration under the evidence, for there was not the slightest proof adduced to connect him in any way with the commission of a crime. He was manly throughout the case and told a straightforward story on the witness stand, which we all believed. The happening at the hotel was an unfortunate affair for which Arbuckle, so the evidence shows, was in no way responsible.

  We wish him success and hope that the American people will take the judgement of the men and women who have sat listening for thirty-one days to the evidence that Roscoe Arbuckle is entirely innocent and free from all blame.

  Roscoe Arbuckle let out a long, relieved sigh and was deeply affected not only by the not-guilty verdict but also by the statement from the jury. He rose from his seat, shook hands with his team and then posed for photographs with the jurors; leaving the courthouse a free man. He then released a statement to the media which read:

  This is the most solemn moment of my life. My innocence of the hideous charges preferred against me has been proved by a jury of the best men and women of San Francisco – fourteen in all – rendering a verdict immediately after the trial. For this vindication I am truly grateful to God and my fellow men and women.

  My life has been devoted to the production of clean pictures for the happiness of children. I shall try to enlarge my field of usefulness so that my art shall have a wider service. It is the duty of all men to use the lessons that have been given them by experience and misfortune for the benefit of all, to make themselves more useful to humanity. This I shall do. I can only repay the trust, confidence and loyalty bestowed upon me during my trouble by millions of men and women throughout the world by rendering service in justification of their faith.

  Shortly after Arbuckle left with his estranged wife Minta to head back to Los Angeles. On the way they were met by many fans who threw their arms around the innocent actor and told him how much they adored him. Mothers even told Arbuckle that their children had been so concerned about his welfare that they had been forced to tell them he was sick but would return to the screen soon. Everyone wished him well and when the couple arrived back at Roscoe’s West Adams home, the world’s press were waiting for them.

  Minta Durfee was quick to tell everyone just how relieved she was that her estranged husband had been acquitted and declared, “Though we have known each other since childhood and my mother has always been a mother to him too, still I think we never really knew each other until now.”

  Once inside the house, Roscoe Arbuckle had much to think about. The actor may have been cleared of the crime of which he had been so unfairly accused, but being hauled over the coals three times had taken its toll on his health and emotions. “His spontaneous laughter and kidding changed after the San Francisco trials,” Minta later said, before adding that he was never again the happy-go-lucky person she had once known. Frequent requests by Durfee to encourage her estranged husband to write about his side of the story always went unheard.

  Although remaining good friends, the couple had of course been separated for some years before the trial, and while it had looked hopeful that they would reconcile, they finally decided to separate for good, with Minta returning to New York, where she had lived for many years. At the time, Roscoe’s manager denied that they had split and told the press that the two “are on the best of terms. Mrs Arbuckle simply went East with her sister on a pleasure trip. Do they still love each other? You ought to see the letters they still exchange! They’re on happier terms now and understand each other better than ever before.”

  Actually while they may have been on good terms, the idea of them getting back together was a hopeful but naive one and the couple eventually divorced in Paris in 1925. After Arbuckle’s death, Minta explained to reporters that their separation was not brought by a lack of love for each other, “but because of a clash of temperaments”. She also added that her former husband was “a great artist, kind and generous and I will never forget my love for him”.

  Minta always believed that Arbuckle never got a “square deal” after the trial and she was right. Women’s groups, church societies and other moral organizations began campaigning to ensure that the former star never worked in Hollywood again. The film industry was not keen on taking any chances on Arbuckle, aware that any kind of support would cause outrage among those organizations gunning for Roscoe. His films were banned and the broken man had to live with the fact that because of a crime he never committed, his career would never be the same again.

  However, being in show business was all that the man had known since the age of eight when his mother encouraged him to take to the stage, and he was determined that he would not – could not – leave his career behind him completely. Almost all of his money had gone on his defence during the trials, and directly after his acquittal he ended up living as a guest in his forme
r home, which he had sold to friend Joseph Schenck during the trial. A proud man, Arbuckle had no interest in living off other people and so decided to get himself together by embarking on a world trip in August 1922. Unfortunately, even this didn’t go exactly to plan when he received a cut hand on the ship and had to undergo emergency treatment to prevent blood poisoning.

  On his return to the States, Roscoe desperately wanted to make a living for himself in an attempt to recoup some of the money he had lost during the trial. He begged people to give him a chance and released a statement to the media, wishing to regain his former reputation. It read in part:

  No one ever saw a picture of mine that was not clean. No one ever saw a picture of mind that was not wholesome. No one ever will see such a picture. I claim the right of work and service. All I ask is the rights of an American citizen – American fair play. Through misfortune and tragic accident, I was tried on a charge of which I was absolutely innocent. A jury composed of eight men and four women all of whom were members of churches of the various faiths, found me innocent.

  He then went on to quote from the original apology which the jurors had read in the courtroom, and added that unlike the jury, those denouncing his intentions to work had not heard any part of the evidence and were “without knowledge of the facts. The Scripture says that, ‘As ye judge, so shall ye be judged.’ How would my accusers like to be judged the way they are judging me?”

  The statement went on at some length, though it was ultimately in vain, as church leaders and groups still continued to call for his films to be banned. But even this refusal to believe in his innocence did not stop Arbuckle from continuing with his career and he began directing under an assumed name, William Goodrich (and sometimes Will B. Good) and then travelling with a theatre group and entertaining in Chicago cafés. He undertook a variety of different stage roles, which earned him enough money to live on, and even appeared incognito in a film directed by his friend, Buster Keaton. However, it was apparent to everyone that the days of high finance and good living were far behind him, and even while undertaking these relatively low-key jobs, he still felt he had to be careful, very rarely revealing his name for fear of further disapproval from the masses.