Napoleon, Cleopatra and the Magic Isle: Sarah Bernhardt in Los Angeles, 1911

Sarah Bernhardt arriving in the United States, October 1911. Bain Collection. Library of Congress.

WRITTEN BY NICHOLAS BEYELIA LACHS BOARD MEMBER

Legendary French actress Sarah Bernhardt visited Los Angeles in the middle of April, 1911 as part of a tour that included a four day engagement at the Mason Opera House, one of Downtown’s most majestic theaters. This was Sarah’s third visit to Los Angeles but only the second time she appeared Downtown and, at the time, was Bernhardt’s longest engagement in our city. Sarah’s first two visits to L.A. were shaped by time constraints and exterior stressors that were well beyond her control. The first visit in 1891 was a mere seventeen hours long and her time was so tight that her train was held for one hour to allow her to finish her performance. Fifteen years later, Bernhardt would return under the most trying circumstances imaginable but those constraints ultimately led to a history-making appearance at Venice of America. Bernhardt had intended this 1905/06 tour to be her last but, five years later, Sarah Bernhardt was back on American soil for another farewell tour. Less hectic than her first visit and less dramatic than her 1906 visit, Sarah’s 1911 visit to Los Angeles would prove memorable if only for its normalcy. Bernhardt’s run at the Mason would go off without a hitch with sold out shows and a demand so strong that she added an additional matinee to the lineup. For the first time Sarah’s appearance in Los Angeles was “business as usual” freeing her to do what she loved best – explore.

Bernhardt’s talent as an actress was surpassed only by her sense of adventure and her desire to learn about the places she visited. She loved to marvel at advancements in art and technology while absorbing local culture – it was a driving force in her life and frequently seemed to be an ulterior motive behind her tours, including this one. Without constraints in place, Bernhardt would be able to do what she enjoyed  and Los Angeles was ripe for exploration. Los Angeles had matured in a very short amount of time and it was not the same place Sarah had seen in 1891. There was much to see and do and Sarah Bernhardt’s third visit was the one that allowed her to experience life as just another L.A. tourist. On April 20, 1911 Sarah Bernhardt took the morning off to visit a tourist destination advertised as a “magic isle.” She had been lured by the owners of this Southern California Shangri-la with promises of what its owners cleverly (but mistakenly) advertised as a “garden” like no other. It was an offer Bernhardt couldn’t refuse. This is the story of Sarah Bernhardt’s third visit to Los Angeles leading up to her visit to this magic isle and its peculiar “garden” on the afternoon of April 20, 1911.      

Captain Poncelet of the “French Line” (Compagnie Générale Transatlantique) says goodbye to Bernhardt ahead of her ‘10/11 tour of the United States. Bain Collection. Library of Congress.

At 66 years of age, the prospect of retirement seemed reasonable for the Divine Sarah and, just as it had done with her previous tours, Angelenos were hankering to see Sarah for what they assumed would be one last time. From the time the Los Angeles dates were announced, locals were a flutter with interest. In Long Beach, the public library had purchased all available books on the life of Bernhardt as well as all available translations of her plays to quell the rabid interest of locals and the LA Public Library followed Long Beach’s lead. The theater where she would perform had more than 200 people applying for jobs in the weeks leading up to her arrival with most of them hoping to meet Sarah rather than needing an actual job. People outside Los Angeles were already planning ahead with the Evening Express reporting that “excursions from the nearby towns are now being arranged as Mme. Bernhardt plays no other town in Southern California with the exception of San Diego for one night.”  Anticipation of Bernhardt’s engagement spread as far north as San Luis Obispo with one of their newspapers, the Morning Tribune, reporting that the demand for tickets “promises to break all!” Bernhardt and her company were contracted to perform five shows over four days at the Mason Opera House. The plays slated to be performed included L’ Aigion on the first night, followed by Camille the following afternoon, a matinee of La Sorciere (added later) with an evening performance of Madame X on Friday. Bernhardt would close the run on Saturday with a matinee of Jeanne D’Arc and an evening performance of La Tosca.

The Herald reported that tickets went on sale Thursday, April 13 but people began lining up the night before they were available. By the time the box office opened, lines were around the block. “In the line were messenger boys and men about town; young women and old; messengers from the clubs, from hotels and elsewhere. Camp chairs were in frequent use and many of the women sat on wooden boxes secured in nearby shops.” Police helped maintain the line to ensure neighboring businesses were accessible. At the close of business, Mason Opera House manager William “Will” Tremaine Wyatt estimated that box office receipts were well over $13,000 and had set a record for Los Angeles, if not the entirety of the Pacific Coast. Wyatt explained that the phone had not stopped ringing and he was ignoring close friends and associates who were hoping for special treatment.

Mason Opera House ca. 1909. Security Pacific National Bank Collection. Los Angeles Public Library.

Advertisements appearing in local newspapers announcing Bernhardt’s run at the Mason Opera House and the addition of an additional matinee of La Sorciere.

Cover of a 1911 program for the Mason Opera House. The Mason was one of the few theaters that consistently featured original, very often beautiful artwork on their program covers. Theatrical Program Collection. Los Angeles Public Library.

Los Angeles Evening Express, April 13, 1911.

Bernhardt arrived in the United States the morning of October 30, 1910 to begin her tour. Captain Poncelet of the “French Line” (Compagnie Générale Transatlantique) helped Sarah wade through the army of press and fans who had lined the pier to greet her. The tour meandered through the United States like a snake: the Midwest, the East Coast, the South, Plain States and, eventually into the Southwest. When Bernhardt arrived in El Paso, she crossed the border into Juarez, ostensibly to watch a bullfight but the event was called off because the Mexican Revolution had begun. Bernhardt took her chances and evidently did some shopping in Juarez because when she returned to El Paso she was detained by U.S. customs agents who demanded that she pay duties on three fire opals in her possession. Her manager paid the duties on the gems and the group boarded a train for Arizona where our story picks up.

The Stockton Evening Record headline for April 18, 1911. Sarah’s detainment was featured next to the story about the rebels in Juarez.

Though never identified by name, The Los Angeles Times dispatched one of their reporters to interview Bernhardt before her arrival in Los Angeles. The resulting interview was (strangely) published only in French, but is one of the more engaging interviews Bernhardt gave to the local media. The Times reporter did a nice job of charming Sarah largely by ignoring “shop talk” (she found talking about acting tedious) and focused on what she had seen and how the United States had changed, “for the first time [Bernhardt] is really delighted with her western journey” he wrote. She “comments most enthusiastically on the spirit and energy which have transformed the American wilderness into a rose garden.” In the five years since her last visit, Sarah had seen small cities rising from the graveyards of boomtowns with feats of architecture and engineering rising out of nowhere. The reporter explained that she “speaks continually of decades ago when she made her first transcontinental tour, putting up with barbarous inconveniences and, for thousand mile stretches, finding nothing but the meagerest civilization and practically no comfort.” Sarah was impressed at how the “Wild West” had matured and the writer noted that she was running a day late because she had taken the time to marvel at “some reclamation projects”  (likely the newly built Roosevelt Dam) and a botanical “garden” in Arizona territory (it wasn’t a state yet!). This delay, however, did not impede scheduled engagements because she had deliberately factored in time to explore.

Bernhardt arriving in New York ahead of her ‘10/11 tour of the United States. Bain Collection. Library of Congress.

When asked if she preferred American audiences to other ‘foreign’ audiences, she gushed, “would you believe me, if I said yes? I will confess to you that the enthusiasm, the full-heartedness of the American audience is one of the things dearest to the artist, especially when we have played in front of the biased and hypercritical people of the [European] continent. Bernhardt even found nice things to say about American critics, “the American critics, as for me, are not critics at all. They always say such nice things about me that, really, sometimes I doubt their judgment.” Bernhardt continued, “the mentions they gave me are not criticisms but, how do you say, encomiums…they say such beautiful things, exquisite things! I wonder if, in truth, they are always sincere.” When questioned if European critics expressed the same admiration, she stated “oh no, not as much as here” noting that sexism seemed engrained in most continental critics, “and after all, I'm just a woman, just like the others.”

Dismissing any suggestion that Sarah was ‘old’, the Times writer took note of her exuberance writing that “as I looked at her, it seemed incredible to me that this woman, so active, so full of the charms of beautiful youth, was approaching seventy and had become a grandmother! Imagine yourself a great-grandmother on stage, admirably playing the roles of young girls. We are almost tempted to believe that Bernhardt is really divine, after all.” Captivated by the actress’ guile and charm, the writer declared “you seem to enjoy perpetual youth.”  Noting that a “charming pout” had come across her face, she leaned in and replied “old age, sir, is just a way of thinking. Age is a condition of the mind.” Over the next four days, the 66 year old actress would show Los Angeles what she meant.

Image accompanying Grace Kingsley’s Los Angeles Times article, presumably taken during the Bernhardt press conference at the Alexandria Hotel.

William Connor, Sarah’s American Manager arrived earlier that week and had attempted to wrangle the “finest suite” at the Alexandria Hotel, only to find it was occupied by millionaire James Ellwood Saunders who was visiting from Baltimore. Connor was offered a slightly smaller neighboring suite and it's likely that Sarah stayed there during this visit. On the morning of April 19, 1911 Sarah Bernhardt arrived in Los Angeles direct from Tucson for the third time in her career. In the afternoon Bernhardt played hostess to a gaggle of reporters and photographers in her hotel room. Grace Kingsley of the Los Angeles Times was among the press corp that day and reported that Bernhardt kept them waiting for some time. Despite the fact that reporters were packed into the sitting room of Bernhardt’s suite like sardines, Kingsley observed an eerie silence, “we sat and eyed each other suspiciously like mourners at a funeral who don’t know how they stand in the deceased’s will. The room was full of flowers which enhanced the illusion. Even our lips moved as if in prayer…” Kingsley explained that the silence stemmed from reporters’ nervous attempts to string together sentences in a language that none of them seemed to have even a basic grasp of. One of the reporters seated near Kingsley confessed the only French she knew was a single word: “l’enfant” which led Kingsley to write “Poor lady! Her French tank was empty when she had said that.” Other reporters cursed missed opportunities to learn French while others were voraciously memorizing French phrase books. When Bernhardt made her entrance, Kingsley wrote that “she just frou-froued in among us and stood like a vision from a Burne-Jones dream of a figure in a stained glass window - swayed towards us in that lily-like way of hers…a flicker of a smile lighted her face for a moment. She swayed toward one, two of us in turn. We watched her like little animals waiting for a handout…”

Much of Kingsley’s reporting focused on the social dynamics between Bernhardt and the reporters not only because of the language barrier but, even with Bernhardt’s manager there to translate, the reporters asked fairly inane questions of the actress. The lone question of substance was made by a reporter who asked if American audiences affected her differently than French ones; in other words, were American audiences “as inspiring”? Reporters seemed to be expecting a response befitting a spoiled “diva” of the  Belle Epoque but it was anything but. In fact, her response indicated both an affinity with and appreciation for American audiences, “yes, moreso, but in a different way. We are so critical. And you are so, so young! One does not see the blase, ennui, that we have. You inspire me, yes. I feel younger in America than anywhere…and you all have belief in everything. It is not so, alas, with us!” For Kingsley, the most salient impression Bernhardt made that morning was a vitality and ability to convey her feelings that transcended language. “...when she behaves like a child and won’t have her picture taken, and runs laughing capriciously to the corner and turns her back, you believe she’s a child. And when she’s a tender cooing woman and kisses you on the ear, you believe that she’s that; and when she’s a tigress throwing photographers out, you know she’s that too. There are those whom it is life to talk to. Sarah Bernhardt is one of these.”

Bernhardt took to the stage that night to perform in L’Aiglon, a play written for her by Edmond Rostand that was based upon a historical figure. The play turned the dynamics of gender on its head since it called for Bernhardt, a woman, to assume the part of a man, the lead role of Napoleon II. Author Carol Ockert explained that Bernhardt preferred playing “male” roles as she believed most of the “female” roles “did not make any great intellectual demand.” She preferred playing Hamlet to roles like Marguerite in La Dame Aux Camelias so she embraced this role and performed with relish. Some critics questioned the discrepancy between Bernhardt’s age and the age of the character, a young man who had died at the age of 21, but reviews were largely positive even among those who did raise an eyebrow over the age difference.

Gallery of Bernhardt roles that appeared in the April 13, 1911 edition of the Los Angeles Herald.

New Friends

Though the precise ‘when’ and ‘how’ remain unclear, at some point on April 19, Sarah Bernhardt met members of the Banning family. William Banning, his brother Hancock and Hancock’s wife Anne were regularly identified as patrons of the theater in the L.A. society pages. On more than one occasion, the home of Hancock and Anne reportedly served as a theater for amateur productions with the Times reporting in 1912 that Hancock Banning even directed a play presented by the Amateur Players Society. All of this is to say that it's safe to assume the Bannings were in the audience during L’Aiglon and probably met Sarah Bernhardt after the performance. The particulars of the conversation are lost to time but we can assume that two topics entered the conversation: gardens and Santa Catalina Island. Why? Because the following morning, Sarah Bernhardt was on “Captain” William Banning’s yacht determined to see the “gardens” of Catalina with her own two eyes.

The Banning Brothers - (left) William (right) Hancock. Los Angeles Public Library

The Bannings purchased Catalina Island from George Shatto in 1892 and worked hard to fashion it into a tourist destination.  As the Evening Express relayed, the Brothers were hoping to make it a “great popular resort, by making it as inexpensive as possible in transportation and hotel rates” and pointed out that “the Banning Brothers, by reason of their large interests at Wilmington and San Pedro, and their ownership of the Wilmington Transportation Company, are in a better position to utilize [Catalina Island] than anyone else.” Catalina had thrived as a tourist destination and was notable for its seasonal tent “cities” with names like the “Island Villa Annex” or the “Canvas Cottage City” where people could camp for a few days or the entire season, if so inclined. For those with more discriminating tastes, the Metropole Hotel in Avalon was a less rustic option and it was a place for day trippers to eat lunch. Part of making Catalina Island a successful venture was to generate publicity and offering the world’s most famous woman a tour of the island would do just that. The fact that a Los Angeles Times reporter would be in tow shows some maneuvering and, though she was never one to shy away from publicity, the Bannings would have benefitted from this excursion more than Bernhardt. One can imagine, of course, that the Bannings’ invitation was both a genuine extension of goodwill and a publicity stunt crafted by the brothers.

Catalina ephemera from the Banning era. Los Angeles Public Library.

The Times reported that Bernhardt took the “day off” on April 20th, though “morning” and/or “afternoon” would be more accurate as she performed in La Dame aux Camelias that evening. Sarah, her manager, and most of her company boarded a “special” car on the Pacific Electric early that morning headed towards San Pedro. What made the car in question so ‘special’ was never elaborated upon but it's likely that it was reserved at the request of the Bannings and was limited exclusively to Bernhardt’s party. In San Pedro, the group boarded William Banning’s yacht, Companerio, and headed towards Avalon. The reporting gives the impression that the Bannings were not on board the yacht nor did they partake in this excursion.

More Banning-era ephemera - a booklet extolling the virtues of Catalina as a resort. Ca. 1898. Los Angeles Public Library.

Photocrome image of the Hotel Metropole on Catalina Island. The Hotel was constructed by George Shatto around 1887 and burned to the ground in 1915. Library of Congress.

Avalon did not expect the arrival of the divine Sarah” wrote the Times yet “word was passed around that the greatest actress in recent history was about to set foot on the ‘Magic Isle’” resulting in “an exodus of islanders headed to the beach.” It's not clear how news of Bernhardt’s arrival made its way around the island but it had clearly been pre-arranged. The Pasadena Star-News seemed to be the only other publication to write about Bernhardt’s visit to Catalina; only their reporting leaned towards gossip. The Star News reported that, as witnessed by Mrs Trevor McClurg of St. Paul, Minnesota, Bernhardt arrived in Avalon slightly green around the gills, writing “the immortal Sarah seasick!  In all the stages of her various roles, the immortal Sarah never appeared in a more tragic or a more realistic one than yesterday when she went to Avalon on a private yacht.” The Star-News would add that when Sarah set foot on land she saw a sign that read, “meals, 15 cents and up” and had a hearty laugh over it. Not to cast doubt on the Star News’ reporting but Bernhardt being seasick seems highly unlikely considering the events that transpired over the next few hours. Mrs. McClurg may have confused Bernhardt with her secretary or a member of her company. After greeting the crowds at the beach, Bernhardt and company made their way towards the Hotel Metropole for lunch. Upon leaving the Metropole Hotel, the Times reporter leaves the impression that Sarah seemed to be dragging members of her party to the glass bottom boats, in a manner that an enthusiastic child would grasp their parents hand and drag them around a theme park, noting that she was, by far, “the most enthusiastic member of the party” and had “no trace of fatigue.” Bernhardt and company boarded the aptly named glass bottom boat, Cleopatra, a role Bernhardt had played thousands of times.

The glass bottom boat, Cleopatra in Avalon Bay around 1898. California Historical Society Collection. USC Libraries.

As the Cleopatra left the shore and the kelp forest came into view “the diva became a perfect volcano of French adjectives. Her eyes glistened and sparkled and she clapped her hands repeatedly as the wondrous colors of the ocean gardens were unfolded.” A parade of marine life darting in and out of the kelp. A massive albacore tuna darting underneath the ship in a zig-zag pattern elicited an audible squeal from the actress and the crew had a hearty laugh. Next, a busybody Garibaldi that the Times described as a “goldfish” seemed equally intrigued by the animated woman voraciously pointing at it and approached the glass to investigate. Sarah grabbed the arm of her manager, William Connor and began shaking him and laughingly asked him to catch it. It seems that the Times didn’t catch on that she was only joking when it wrote that “as Mr. Connor is accustomed and trained in getting whatever Mme. Bernhardt wants he was restrained with difficulty from jumping in after the goldfish.” In direct contrast to Sarah, members of her party were largely silent during the excursion as “they realized their presence was lost to the great diva, anyway.” The writer explained this silence away as simple intrigue spurred by watching a great actress register emotion, writing that it was “a great treat to them to watch the emotions pass swiftly over her face…” Of course, one can also imagine that members of her party were, as Mrs. McClurg and the Pasadena Star-News reported, seasick making them noticeably withdrawn. Bernhardt, however, couldn’t keep still. Sarah inundated the crew with an assortment of child-like questions, translated, of course through her manager and the crew struggled to complete an answer before she posed yet another question. Noting her excitement, the crew offered her a fishing pole and she began casting her line.

Drawing of a Garibaldi (illustration from "The Ocean World"). The Garibaldi is the State Fish (saltwater) of California.

Sam Hinton Papers. UC San Diego.

The Times relayed that Sarah “saw a beautiful blue perch rush out of the shadows and seize the bait and hook. He was caught fairly and the great diva frantically pulled until she landed her fish.” It seemed, however, that Bernhardt was only interested in catching the fish as she “looked at the squirming creature and seemed to realize that it would die in a few moments” at which point she took off her gloves, pulled out the hook and returned the fish to the ocean. Bernhardt seemed to have romantic notions of self-sufficiency through catching and cooking her own meal but she was also an animal lover who maintained a rather bizarre menagerie of animals in her Paris apartment. No doubt the reality that a fish would have to lose its life for Sarah to have triumphed as a fisherman was a little too harsh a reality. The Times noted that “it was fun catching them but her heart failed her when she realized that the fish would die.”

The passengers of the Cleopatra were privy to a performance that afternoon but it didn’t come from Sarah Bernhardt. The Times article makes it seem as though Bernhardt, her company, and the crew of the Cleopatra were the only passengers on the boat that day and then, magically, we are introduced to a teenage boy who seems to come out of nowhere. The appearance of this teen, however, makes it clear that this tour was more organized than the Times revealed. While peering through the glass, Sarah caught sight of a shimmering, abalone shell “on the floor of the ocean some thirty-six feet below the boat.” Naturally Sarah squealed and began speaking at a breakneck speed while pointing at the iridescent shell that had caught the light. In the background, a loud splash interrupted Bernhardt’s excitement and the group watched as sixteen year old Catalina resident, Ford Travilla, came into view through the glass.

The three Travilla Brothers with Winks the Seal. It’s unclear which one is Ford. Topfoto Image Archive.

Ford Travilla was no random teenager on a boat. Travilla and his three older brothers had gained prominence as professional divers with Ford breaking a record for both time and depth. It was reported that Ford went down as far as 65 feet underwater and could hold his breath for nearly five minutes. In the 1910s the Travilla brothers developed a trained seal act that toured the world and was eventually picked up by the Orpheum Circuit. Sadly, Ford would pass away at the age of 31 with conflicting accounts pointing to either tuberculosis or decompression sickness as a cause of death but on April 20, 1906 he was a sixteen year old kid on a glass bottom boat determined to impress the “divine” Sarah Bernhardt by retrieving the shell that had made her squeal.

By 3:30, the group had returned to Avalon and boarded the Banning family’s yacht. It was back to San Pedro and, eventually, Downtown for that night’s performance of La Dame aux Camélias (Camille).

Mr. Wad cartoon by Ted Gale appearing in the April 21, 1911 edition of the Los Angeles Times.

Like many L.A. husbands, Mr Wad would rather watch Wallace “Happy Hogan” Bray play baseball than see Sarah Bernhardt.

Au revoir…pour l'instant (Goodbye…for now)

The week would progress without turmoil. On Friday April 21, Bernhardt performed a matinee of La Sorciere followed by an evening performance of her most recent success, Madame X. Bernhardt gave her final Los Angeles performances for her 1911 tour on Saturday, April 22 starting with a matinee of Jeanne D’Arc and closing with an evening performance of the perennial favorite, La Tosca. After Los Angeles, Bernhardt went to San Diego for a single performance. While staying at the Hotel Del Coronado, she threw a party for friends and acquaintances including her new California friends. Among those invited were Will Wyatt, the manager of the Mason Opera House. Wyatt had to turn down Bernhardt’s invitation citing the fact that his wife was pregnant and had gone into labor. Bernhardt gave Wyatt and his family her blessing and joked with Wyatt telling him, “if it's a girl, I do hope you will name her after me.”  The child, a girl, was born on April 24th and was named Elizabeth Bernhardt Wyatt in honor of the actress

Will Wyatt’s Daughter, Elizabeth was given the middle name of Bernhardt in honor of the Divine Sarah. This image was printed in the Los Angeles Times on June 19, 1931 to coincide with the announcement of her engagement.

Sarah did technically “retire” after this but only from repertory theater so this farewell tour was anything but goodbye. Bernhardt, unlike many of her contemporaries, embraced modern technologies ensuring that her legacy would be secured for posterity. Bernhardt would dip her toes into the world of moving pictures, making short (silent) films of her most famous roles and culminating in one feature length film that proved so successful that it single-handedly financed a Hollywood film studio that remains in operation today. Sarah also signed a contract with the Edison Company and began to make sound recordings of her most intense theatrical monologues; these recordings remain the only evidence of her “golden voice.”  Two years after this tour Sarah found herself back in Los Angeles for two weeks making an appearance that displayed her craft in a different format - one that seemed unfathomable for a performer of her stature. If the new presentation worked, Sarah Bernhardt stood to make an obscene amount of money. If the venture failed it would indicate just how far her star had fallen.