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Taylorology Issue 11
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* T A Y L O R O L O G Y *
* A Continuing Exploration of the Life and Death of William Desmond Taylor *
* *
* Issue 11 -- November 1993 Editor: Bruce Long bruce@asu.edu *
* All reprinted material is in the public domain *
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CONTENTS OF THIS ISSUE:
"Hollywood Mysteries"--Shredded
"The Humor of a Hollywood Murder" Part 8:
Confessions, Confessions, Poetry Potpourri, The Public Speaks,
Epilogue: August 1923
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What is TAYLOROLOGY?
TAYLOROLOGY is a newsletter focusing on the life and death of William Desmond
Taylor, a top film Paramount film director in early Hollywood who was shot to
death on February 1, 1922. His unsolved murder was one of Hollywood's major
scandals. This newsletter will deal with: (a) The facts of Taylor's life;
(b) The facts and rumors of Taylor's murder; (c) The impact of the Taylor
murder on Hollywood and the nation. Primary emphasis will be given toward
reprinting, referencing and analyzing source material, and sifting it for
accuracy.
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"Hollywood Mysteries"--Shredded
As stated in TAYLOROLOGY 4, most published recaps of the Taylor murder
case (in newspapers, magazines, books, and "crime encyclopedias") are filled
with errors and inaccuracies. The following is a recent typical example.
HOLLYWOOD MYSTERIES is a small book published by Globe Publishing in
1989, containing a short 5-page recap of the Taylor case. Included in just
those five pages are various unsubstantiated (and probably false) rumors:
that Taylor was a "notorious womanizer," that Mary Miles Minter "and her
mother had been taking turns in Taylor's bed," that "an autographed pair of
Mary's panties was found by police in Taylor's closet," that Taylor "had
opium and cocaine habits," that Taylor had "a closet full of bras and
lingerie," that "police found pornographic photographs of Taylor posing with
some of the biggest female stars in Hollywood," that Charlotte Shelby "was
also known to spend a night or two over at Taylor's bungalow," etc. Rational
arguments can be presented against all of those unverified rumors.
But rumors aside, that recap in HOLLYWOOD MYSTERIES includes many
"facts" which are certainly absolutely false:
It is stated that Taylor was the president of the Screen Director's Guild.
FACT: Taylor was president of the Los Angeles branch of the Motion Picture
Director's Association (MPDA), an entirely different organization. The
Screen Director's Guild would not be founded until the 1930s. The MPDA was
not a union, unlike the Screen Director's Guild, and the MPDA had a separate
New York branch, with separate officers. At the time of Taylor's death, J.
Searle Dawley was president of the New York branch.
It is stated that Taylor was shot twice through the heart.
FACT: The coroner's report indicates that was shot just once, in the left
side, the bullet puncturing his left lung, but not his heart.
It is stated that Taylor's body was found with "a chair draped over his
legs."
FACT: A wooden chair was astride one leg, but it was not overturned.
It is stated that Edna Purviance telephoned Charlotte Shelby and told her
Taylor had been killed.
FACT: Purviance did not telephone Shelby; Shelby learned of Taylor's death
from Carl Stockdale. (Edna Purviance telephoned Mabel Normand; Normand
telephoned her director Dick Jones on the Sennett lot; word spread throughout
the Sennett lot and reached Stockdale who was acting in a picture there;
Stockdale called Shelby.)
It is stated that Charlotte Shelby called Charles Eyton and notified him that
Taylor had been killed.
FACT: Shelby did not notify Eyton. As Eyton testified at the inquest, he had
been telephoned and notified by Harry Fellows, Taylor's assistant director.
It is stated that Mabel Normand and Adolph Zukor were at Taylor's bungalow on
the morning the body was found.
FACT: Mabel Normand did not return to Taylor's bungalow until three days
after the murder; Adolph Zukor was in New York at the time and did not come
to Los Angeles until more than a week after the murder.
It is stated that Charles Eyton arrived at the bungalow prior to the arrival
of the police.
FACT: As testimony at the inquest indicates, policemen Ziegler and Parsons
were already on the scene before Eyton arrived there.
It is stated that the police were not notified of Taylor's death until an
hour or so after the body had been discovered.
FACT: The police were notified a few minutes after the body was found; Peavey
discovered Taylor's body at 7:30 and the police arrived before 8:00.
It is stated that when the police arrived, Zukor and Eyton were burning
Taylor's personal papers in his fireplace.
FACT: Taylor's bungalow had no fireplace.
It is stated that Mary Miles Minter was one of the chief suspects in Taylor's
murder.
FACT: The police never suspected Minter of having murdered Taylor.
It is stated that Minter attended Taylor's funeral, approached the casket,
and started screaming that the corpse had spoken to her.
FACT: Minter did not attend Taylor's funeral; she went into seclusion a few
days after the murder and did not emerge in public for over a month. At the
same time the funeral was in progress, she was making an official statement
to William Doran of the district attorney's office. The "talking corpse"
episode took place several days prior to the funeral, and she did not start
screaming (see below).
It is stated that Mary Miles Minter spent several hours in Taylor's bungalow
on the day of the murder, prior to Mabel Normand's visit.
FACT: Minter certainly did not visit Taylor's bungalow that day prior to
Mabel Normand. If Minter did visit Taylor's bungalow after Normand, it was
only for a few minutes.
It is stated that Mabel Normand visited Taylor for several hours on the day
of the murder.
FACT: Her visit only lasted about 45 minutes, from 7:00 to 7:45 p.m.
It is stated that police wanted to investigate Shelby but that she "bolted to
Europe."
FACT: Shelby did not go to Europe until mid-1926, more than four years after
the murder.
It is stated that Zelda Crosby was "a Taylor lover who killed herself because
of his infidelities."
FACT: Zelda Crosby committed suicide in New York; Taylor worked in Los
Angeles. It is very doubtful that Taylor and Crosby even knew each other.
The Taylor case is one of the most fascinating murder cases in American
history. It is regrettable that most of the material written about the case
has focused on spreading silly rumors and misinformation, rather than delving
into the real facts of the case.
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"The Humor of a Hollywood Murder", Part 8
Confessions, Confessions
February 16, 1922
NEW YORK HERALD
(Los Angeles)--No end of letters from cranks are pouring into the
investigative offices. Police Captain Adams says it beats anything in his
nineteen years' experience. He has time to read only a few of them. One
writes from Oregon that he did it, and adds, "I am leaving Portland tonight,
but whether north, south, east or west I don't say. Come and find me."
All these letters are being studied on the chance that one of them might
yield pay dirt, but thus far they have proved merely vexations and time
wasting.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 27, 1922
ST LOUIS STAR
The district attorney of Los Angeles will have to have some rejection
slips printed soon to use in returning confessions in the Taylor case.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
March 7, 1922
TULSA TRIBUNE
Why can't all those persons who have confessed to the Taylor murder get
together and draw straws to determine who's going to be "it"?
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
March 7, 1922
DES MOINES TRIBUNE
Los Angeles sleuths report that they have had over a hundred letters
"confessing" the murder of Movie Director Taylor. And no doubt most of the
writers are peeved because their letters didn't even get into the newspapers.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
March 8, 1922
SAN FRANCISCO CHRONICLE
Curdled Brains
More than 300 different persons have written to the Los Angeles police
"confessing" to the murder of William Taylor. This means that there are at
least 300 weak-minded individuals in the country. One can hardly think of a
feebler brain than the one that spends time and trouble to pretend the
conception of a crime it knows nothing of except through the papers.
But, after all, this is nothing to the exhibition of mental debility we
would have if Taylor's murderer were behind the bars. The unsolved mystery of
the crime has brought forward only one type of imbeciles. Another and far
larger class would be produced by the capture of the criminal.
Were his address known at some prominent jail thirty times 300
addlepates would proclaim themselves by sending him flowers, writing him
scented notes full of silly slush, and trying to call on him in order to
bring their morbid sentimentality into contact with his aura of iniquity.
No, the Taylor mystery has by no means revealed all the whey wits in the
country. The possibilities are not at all exhausted in the count of 300. And
from that point of view we have really been lucky that the murderer has not
been caught.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
March 7, 1922
LOUISVILLE TIMES
If there were a conspiracy to destroy public interest in the solution of
the mystery surrounding the murder of William Desmond Taylor, it could not
find more effective means than to present a confession a day from here, there
and somewhere else. The public interest is certain to grow less as the
numerous admissions of guilt prove to be false.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
March 8, 1922
LOUISVILLE COURIER-JOURNAL
Hang Them All
Never a day passes that does not bring new confessions of the murder of
Taylor, the Hollywood moving picture director.
A Los Angeles dispatch says that more than 300 persons in the United
States, with one in England and one in France, have now "confessed" they
killed Taylor, though with one exception none of them has signed his name to
the confession.
Would it not be well to take these persons at their word? Would it not
be more than worth while for the detectives to run down these 300 confessed
murderers, round them up at some central spot and hang the whole bunch?
They have confessed that they deserve hanging; their actions prove it;
and they ought to get their deserts.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
March 12, 1922
OAKLAND TRIBUNE
In the frost-bitten states of the East more than three hundred persons
have confessed that they murdered Taylor. There can be but one reason and it
is strange Los Angeles has not realized the significance. What those three
hundred persons wish is the chance to be warmed on the famous Los Angeles
police grill.
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Poetry Potpourri
February 5, 1922
CHICAGO TRIBUNE
Mabel sat in her gasoline hack,
Eating peanuts by the sack;
She heard a shot but would not go,
Because she loved the peanuts so.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 6, 1922
CHICAGO POST
"Mother, mother, may I go in the movies?"
"Oh, yes, my darling daughter;
But remember you were just a friend of his,
In each case of manslaughter."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 7, 1922
ALBUQUERQUE HERALD
Behind the Silver Screen
In Movie-Land;
There earnest workers glean
With heart and hand
The brave rewards that come to those who serve
Art's stern demands; and will not swerve
Their cold allegiance by a curl or curve.
In Movie-Land
Enamoured votaries of Art
In Movie-Land
They live aloof, apart:
Ambition grand
Bids them spurn dull conventions gray,
And live those parts, both grave and gay,
For which we mortals yearn and pay
This Movie-Land.
Nor can man's silly laws,
In Movie-Land
Cause eager Art to pause
In its demand
For that full freedom which permits
Strong spirits to flow freely; nimble wits
To play at will, while Cupid flits
Through Movie-Land.
What though these spirits free
In Movie-Land
Should seem to you and me,
From where we stand
To be a trifle more free than they should
With Freud and cocktails, guns and blood?
Why should that call the cops to Hollywood
In Movie-Land?
What know we of the Urge
In Movie-Land
That moves these souls to surge
At Art's command
Until in inspiration's noble rage
They crowd all other news clear off the stage
And grab each day the whole front page
For Movie-Land!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 11, 1922
OKLAHOMA CITY TIMES
Now Mary Miles Minter is striving to paint
Her love as a beautiful flower,
Though readers are certain enough that it ain't
Though Mary insists by the hour.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 12, 1922
CHICAGO TRIBUNE
My mother was a lady, sire,
Though she lived in Hollywood;
But how she ever got that way,
I've never understood.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 12, 1922
OMAHA BEE
Hollywood
All Hollywood is but a stage,
The movie actors are the players,
Where comedy is all the rage
And they of fun the wild purveyors--
On with the dance, let joy prevail,
Let no gloom-spreader in to dim it,
Their wish is law, they have the kale, [1]
They own the town and go the limit.
Be careful if you can't be good,
They say, as from the dance they're wending
Yet comedy at Hollywood
Oft' seems to have a tragic ending.
And yet while Hollywood's a lot
Where movie folk cut up their capers,
The public doesn't get the plot
Until they read it in the papers.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 12, 1922
CHICAGO TRIBUNE
Screen Land, Scream Land,
I simply can't allude
To what they did; 'twas everything
But what they really should.
Only were they decent
On days when the weather was good;
They'd do a nice, clean murder, out
In dear old Hollywood.2
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 13, 1922
CHICAGO POST
Reflections
Oh, Hollywood the Golden!
With youth and beauty blest;
Where every night holds revels,
Where no one goes to rest.
Where gents throw soup at waiters,
Where baby vamps write slush,
Where ladies by the dozen
Pursue one lonely mush!
A pleasant thought to harbor
As we chronicle these ills,
That for all this midnight splendor
The dear public pays the bills.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 16, 1922
PITTSBURGH POST
Stern Resolve of a Moral Young Man
I'll never be a movie star
Though ten directors trail me;
In Hollywood, the chances are,
They'd either shoot or jail me.
Those horrid habit-forming drugs!
Those vamps, so blond and frisky!
I'm safer here among the thugs,
A-drinking moonshine whisky.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 20, 1922
SEATTLE UNION-RECORD
A cute little miss known as Minter
At foxy old guys was a squinter.
An ill-advised wink
Brought her close to the brink--
Now she's in for the rest of the winter.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 22, 1922
LOUISVILLE TIMES
There's something wrong at Hollywood,
The cause, O let us seek!
There's something wrong at Hollywood--
No scandal yet this week.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
March 6, 1922
SEATTLE UNION-RECORD
The Taylor Case
I've followed up the Taylor case
Till I am purple in the face,
And still I'm all at sea;
The sleuths ignores his bed and feed
To find the crook who did the deed,
But still it's mystery.
Each day detectives scent a clue,
That in a moment busts in two,
Like toy balloons, egad;
And all the science that they know
So far has failed to snare the bo
So crim-i-nally bad.
I'm sure that Sherlock Holmes would solve
The puzzle of the shot revolv,
And ferret out the crook,
If it were not the painful truth
That all the logic of this sleuth
Just came from out a book!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 21, 1922
Roy Moulton
NEW YORK MAIL
They have found a drug, forsooth,
That will make you tell the truth.
There's a chance to test it good
Right now out in Hollywood.
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The Public Speaks
February 10, 1922
NEW YORK NEWS
The Inquiring Photographer
THE QUESTION.
Do you think a man or a woman murdered Taylor?
THE ANSWERS.
C. A. Cruise, cotton broker: "I think a woman murdered him. My
experience and observations have shown me that a woman will do anything for
revenge when she thinks she has been jilted. Some woman probably was insanely
jealous."
Mrs. E. W. Cunningham, housewife: "A man shot him. I base my opinion on
the manner in which Taylor was murdered. It was so cleverly concealed that it
must be the work of some man. A woman isn't so clever in such affairs."
Arthur Schwartz, college student: "I think a man did the shooting,
because a woman would never shoot a man in the back. She is too eager to see
the expression of pain. And she feels that a jury will exonerate her anyway."
Mrs. Tessie Saeger, housewife: "My intuition tells me that a woman fired
the fatal shot. He had so many affairs that one of the women was bound to
'get him in the long run.' Once a woman gives her all, it isn't so easy to
get rid of her.
Dr. A. J. Lippman, dentist: "From the newspaper accounts it is
impossible to form a definite opinion. Reporters now have a splendid
opportunity to exercise their dramatic powers. But, of course, a woman was
the cause."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 11, 1922
Ruth West
NEW YORK WORLD
(letter to the editor)
Why can't some of the money spent for booze reform and foreign missions
be used to clean up Hollywood? Why isn't something done to stop the
scandalous doings in that place? Why are these people allowed to have their
own code of morals and law?
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 13, 1922
H. G. Meyer
OMAHA BEE
(letter to the editor)
No one takes pleasure in accusing a dead man, who cannot defend himself
before earthly accusers; nevertheless, lovers of decency fail to understand
why anyone should want to defend William D. Taylor, the latest murder victim,
and describe him as an "hitherto highly respected citizen."
Enough has come to light to prove that if he enjoyed the respect of
decent people, he was not worthy of it. Some may not be certain whether this
is a case of a good man gone bad or a bad man found out. Usually character
and habits are fully formed before middle age and it is not likely that this
man Taylor was an exception. If he had always lived a clean, respectable life
he would hardly have become the moral degenerate that his actions and mode of
life, as now revealed, indicate.
Since it has become known that in their social life many of the leading
stars are flagrant violators of the laws of God and man, living in vice and
debauchery, it is time that respectable people should turn their backs upon
them and protect themselves from pollution.
All citizens should obey the laws, including the 18th Amendment, and
when they refuse to do so, let them be punished.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 10, 1922
"Movie"
CLEVELAND PLAIN DEALER
(letter to the editor)
Movie stars should be compelled to get certificates of ordinary good
character before being permitted to appear on the screen.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 20, 1922
L. L. Child
BALTIMORE AMERICAN
(letter to the editor)
So much has been said of the Minter pictures being barred, that as one
of her many admirers and a firm believer in her character, I would like to
know the meaning of the words Christianity and Justice!
Mary Miles Minter is but a kid, despite her years before the public, and
because of the unkindness of fate in throwing her into the way of a man more
than twice her age and with much experience with women, because of a little
gush note she is to be deprived of her livelihood. Instead of helping her
regain her footing on the ladder of life, she is told to "Slide, Kelly,
slide" strait to the devil; and if she doesn't go fast enough, they'll give
her a boost down the chute. Then they'll go to church, singing "Hozanna," and
praise God they are not as other men are, and for once they'll be right, for
they are worse!
Personally, I believe she is as straight and clean as the majority that
walk the streets today.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 15, 1922
"Regular Reader"
NEW ORLEANS ITEM
(letter to the editor)
Permit me to offer my humble protest against the uncalled for amount of
publicity given the notorious doings of the movie stars. As the father of two
daughters and a son, it causes me no little concern to know that my children
are made conversant with the affairs of the demi-monde3 through reading the
newspapers. It is all well and good to say that such things are part of life,
and that children should not be kept in ignorance, but the fact remains that
such recitals as frequently appear regarding the picture people work injury
upon the plastic mind of the young man or woman.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 22, 1922
R. D. Martin
LOUISVILLE COURIER-JOURNAL
(letter to the editor)
Hollywood, the moving picture center of California, ever present in the
news of late by reason of the shocking scandals of its dollar chasing, money-
grafting bunch, is enough to make a dog sick.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 19, 1922
C. B. Reed
BUFFALO EXPRESS
(letter to the editor)
Hollywood, it is apparent, can be relied upon to furnish quite regularly
sufficient scandal to satisfy the most morbidly inclined of the readers of
the daily press. What is the reason that a profession possessing so many
possibilities for the betterment of mankind should degenerate to such a low
estate morally?
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 19, 1922
W. H. Brashear
LOUISVILLE COURIER-JOURNAL
(letter to the editor)
To what degree is the present abnormal prevalence of juvenile
delinquency, together with the unusual "crime wave" in general, attributable
directly and indirectly to the vicious scenario? There can be no reasonable
doubt but what the movie screen, through its various forms of heroized
criminality and its exhaltation of the salacious vampistic heroine is no
small factor as an influence for crime and immorality.
The revolting revelations of recent months of orgies indulged in by
movie actors and actresses "high up" in the screen world would seem to
indicate that these theatrical people are endeavoring to put in actual
practice the logical significance of what they have indirectly preached
through the screen. That they have descended personally to depravity is but a
natural and inevitable consequence. For the purveyors of degradation
naturally precede in infamy those whom they corrupt and are even the first to
reach the limit of moral perdition.
Theatrical screendom must be purged of the serpent's trail which, if not
over it all, is yet over much of it; it must be taken wholly out of the hands
of the sordid producer who would barter for gold the morals and decency of
the people; it must cease to order films made in Sodom, Gomorrah or
Hollywood.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 23, 1922
"Fair Play"
OMAHA NEWS
(letter to the editor)
I have been amused reading the feeble defense of one of your
correspondents relative to the so-called movie stars and their morals. The
public is aware of the film folks' fun and are in need of no camouflaged
explanations. What I cannot understand is why they persecute the unfortunate
girl of the street and allow these legalized professionals to go scott free.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
January 27, 1923
George Sloan
MOVIE WEEKLY
(letter to the editor)
Cut out the sloppy balderdash handed out by the press boys. Most movie
fans are becoming very cynical concerning the powdered dimpled darlings who
now "star" in the movies. A few have brains, but the raft of spineless
sweeties whose press agents write their "Biorgraphies," and who drive up to a
"rendouvoo" eating peanuts and reading the Police Gazette, who hold forth as
the Queens of Hop at night and second-class "America's Sweethearts" in the
daytime--all of these and this the movie public is good and sick of.
*****************************************************************************
Epilogue: August 1923
August 9, 1923
LOS ANGELES EXPRESS
Mother Calls Mary M. Minter
"If I should die before I wake, and it would mean your redemption, I
would gladly go." With this prayer thought for her estranged daughter, Mary
Miles Minter, famous motion picture actress, Mrs. Charlotte Shelby entered
that dream world of unconsciousness that is next thing to death.
Mrs. Shelby underwent a major operation at Good Samaritan Hospital
Tuesday morning of this week for abcesses of the liver and dangerous
intestinal trouble.
Mary Miles Minter has talked a lot about "liberty" since she left her
mother's home, and refused to return.
Death may help her attain that desired liberty, for Mrs. Shelby's
vitality is so low that it is a question whether she recovers.
Letter after letter Mrs. Shelby has written to her "baby girl" imploring
her to return.
"The vultures who have taken possession of your baser self will drag you
down to oblivion," wrote Mrs. Shelby to her little "Juliette." (Mary's name
is Juliette O'Reilly.)
This typecal mother lies today at death's door, and cares not whether
she recovers. Life is not worth living if Mary is lost to her.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
August 9, 1923
LOS ANGELES HERALD
"Has she come?"
Many times today Mrs. Charlotte Shelby roused herself on her bed of pain
and asked the doctors and nurses that question, but each time they were
forced to shake their heads negatively in sorrow, for her daughter, Mary
Miles Minter, the film star, has not come to see her in the hospital. Miss
Minter is in the Pasadena.
Lying at the point of death, with a presentiment that she will not
recover, Mrs. Shelby has implored a reconciliation with her daughter, but her
pleas have continued to fall on deaf ears.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
August 10, 1923
LOS ANGELES TIMES
Mary to Sue Her Mother
Mary Miles Minter is Irish. She admits it and she looked it yesterday
afternoon. Her big blue eyes blazed with wrath, then filmed with tears as she
told her side of the story of the dissension in her household which brought
about the estrangement with her mother and sister to the breaking point.
"They never would let me be a girl, to have a girl's pleasures, to do
the things that other girls would do," she said. "I was never even allowed to
have for myself the little pleasures shown in roles I played in pictures. I
never had a doll, except that I held one in the pictures. I never had one all
of my own. I never had a chance to play tag, or hide-and-go-seek or have a
kiddiecar. I was always petted and pampered, tutored and touted, made to
believe I was something I was not, do things I did not want to do, say things
I did not mean. From morning till night I had money, money, money, talked and
preached to me. I have earned lots of it, fairly hate it and have none of it.
"Mother is sick, quite sick, but she is not critically ill and has never
asked for me," said Mary. "I talked with her just last Saturday. She and my
sister known just where I am, where I have been living, have my telephone
number and could get me on a minute's notice. I have not disappeared, never
ran away and never tried to. I just left to be alone, to get away from the
constant argument, from the posing, the nagging, the humiliation of being
told that I myself have never done anything, would not have anything, had it
not been for the watchful eye of mother and Margaret, my older sister, three
years older than I.
"When I was a baby, just 4 years old, they took me away from my home and
my daddy. We went to New York and mother accepted a theatrical engagement.
Soon afterward I was given a part and ever since that time mother's work has
consisted of drawing my salary.
"I was treated like a child always. Told when to go to bed, when to get
up, whom to meet and whom not to meet. The very people I was working with
every day were not good enough for me to associate with. I must be gracious
to this and to that person because they stood high socially and were wealthy.
"The power of money was drilled into me on every hand. Mother said, 'be
powerful even if you have to walk across the graves of others to get it.' She
has no sympathy for the misfortune of another. 'The survival of the fittest,'
was her watchword.
"She is her own best press agent. She knows what to say to create
sympathy for herself. My sister Margaret is a 'yes-girl.' It's 'yes mamma'
this and 'yes mamma' that."
All of which are but a few of the things which Miss Minter said as she
announced her intention to take legal steps to secure an accounting for more
than $1,000,000 which she asserts her mother has collected on motion picture
contracts of the daughter. Formal notice of intention to bring suit has
already been served, said both Miss Minter and her attorney.
The trouble in Mary's home is said to have started shortly after she
became of age a few months ago. At that time Mary is said to have decided to
assume control of her own money and live alone "if she felt so inclined."
Mrs. Shelby has always acted as the girl's guardian and objected to any
change in the arrangements.
Miss Minter declares that she is capable of taking care of herself and
of her own money.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
August 10, 1923
Los Angeles Express
Famed Film Star Called Tiny "Czar" in Money Squabble
Mary Miles Minter was pictured as a little "Czar" in the Shelby family
in a statement made by Miss Margaret Shelby, her sister.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
August 10, 1923
LOS ANGELES HERALD
"Mother never has refused a settlement with Mary," said Margaret. "To
begin with, money was never discussed in our home. We had the happiest home
imaginable. My mother has done what she thought was best for Mary and myself.
It is bewildering to us why Mary has taken this stand.
"It is unfortunate that Mary should make these charges just now when
mother is so ill. We both love her dearly and no matter what Mary says, it
will not change our attitude towards her. She can come home at any time and
be received with open arms."
But Mary Miles Minter smiled knowingly when told of her mother's plea
for a reconciliation from her bed of pain.
"My mother is not in danger of death," was her simple declaration. "It
is only a ruse to get me to call off a lawsuit contemplated for the
accounting of the salary I have earned.
"Yes, I know, mother and Margaret say they love me better than anything
else in life, that I am the very life and breath of their existence.
"They should have said 'I have been' all of that. I was, for where would
either of them be without the money I have made?
"I do not have any affection for my mother. Let the world condemn, if it
will. Even a worm will turn in time--and I have turned. Not because she is my
mother. I want to love her, but she has driven me from her so far that there
is no turning back.
"How can my mother expect me to love and obey her when I have seen the
way she has treated her own mother for years--as a glorified servant girl at
my mother's beck and call.
"Oh, yes I know mother and Margaret swear undying devotion to me. They
should. I have been their meal ticket for years. If only they had made these
protestations of love years ago, how different our lives might have been.
"It isn't so very long ago since I tried to cuddle up to mother. To kiss
and fondle her. What did I get? Told to 'Don't be silly' or 'Don't make a
nuisance of yourself,' in private, but patted for the benefit of the world at
large in public. It made a good impression, you know.
"Perhaps love means more to me than it does to some young women my own
age. I am 21, you know."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
August 11, 1923
LOS ANGELES RECORD
Millionaire Mammy
Where's That Money o' Mine
The sensational New Mother Song,
as sung with great publicity by
(Mary Miles) MINTER & SHELBY (Charlotte)
MARY MILES MINTER:
"Mammy, where's the million that I gave you
When I was working on the Lasky lot?
You know that I have earned the family money
Ever since I was a tiny tot.
But now I'm past sixteen.
I'm going to use my bean,
So--unless I get the coin--I'll make it hot!
Oh, Mammy, right that wrong,
Please listen while I sing my song:
"Mammy! Mammy! You are worth a million to me!
Gimme! Gimme! Or I will sue--you will see!
When I had a job
With Mister Paramount
You took my paycheck
'Cause you thought I couldn't count:
NOW, MAMMY! GIMME!
You gotta give my million back to me!"
CHARLOTTE SHELBY:
"Mary, don't be cruel to your Mammy!
Mother's always loved her little gal.
Ever since your baby days at acting
Remember Mother's been a faithful pal!
No matter what you say,
Come, see your Ma today,
For she is helpless in the hospital!"
Laughing at this moan
Mary called her Mother on the Phone:
"Mammy! Mammy! You are worth a million to me!
Gimme! Gimme! Or I will sue--you will see!
You made me what I seem today,
Just beautiful and dumb!
I'm tired of all the shushing,
So I'm going to make things hum.
NOW, MAMMY! GIMME!
You gotta give my million back to me!"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
August 11, 1923
LOS ANGELES HERALD
Asked concerning the refusal to occupy the apartment which her mother
set aside for her in their new apartment house which Miss Minter says is
rightfully hers, she said:
"No full grown girl of my age could possibly live there under the rules
and regulations laid down by my mother.
"I was given to understand that I could live there but could have no
motion picture people or writers call upon me. Also that I had to put my
lights out at 10 o'clock and could have no music in the evening.
"I protested and told mother I could not live under those conditions and
she said, 'Very well, then you won't live in my house until you do.'
"Now you know some of the things that have made me dislike my mother.
You can't go on sowing the wind without reaping the whirlwind. That's what
mother is getting from me. She taught me, bit by bit, to distrust her. I
can't help it. I just can't!"
"Would you go back if your mother settled everything amicably with you
in regard to freedom of conduct and money matters?" Miss Minter was asked.
"Go back?" The wide blue eyes flashed resentfully. "Not if I had to
scrub floors first. I'm through. I'm going to live my own life."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
August 12, 1923
LOS ANGELES EXAMINER
Mrs. Charlotte Shelby, mother of Mary Miles Minter, the film star, broke
her silence yesterday and told her side of the controversy.
"Our home life lacks only Mary," Mrs. Shelby said. "Her apartment is out
there. And in the part of the home occupied by ourselves--it only lacks the
joy of Mary.
"In the patio are the things she loves--the birds in their swinging
cages, the gold fish in the fountain, flowers everywhere--her tiny 'poms'
waiting for her call. [4]
"Mary wants her freedom to do as she wills. I have lived to protect her
from that freedom until her mind is disciplined; until she is able to make
wise decisions in the important things of life. I have wanted to see her
philosophy of life based on fundamentals that make for happiness and content,
and when she has acquired these, then will she be entitled to the fortune she
has earned."
Mrs. Shelby so far had recovered last night that she was taken to her
home from the Good Samaritan Hospital.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
August 13, 1923
LOS ANGELES HERALD
Miss Minter has frequently said that she believes she is under constant
surveillance and recently acquired an automatic pistol, which she keeps
beneath her pillow in her room.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
August 14, 1923
LOS ANGELES EXAMINER
Minter-Taylor Betrothal Admitted
Admitting that she was engaged to William Desmond Taylor, noted film
director, at the time of his death, Mary Miles Minter yesterday for the first
time bared the details of her romance with the slain man.
"For more than a year and a half I have kept secret that which was the
sweetest and holiest thing in my life--my love for William Taylor," she said.
"I loved Mr. Taylor the first moment I saw him. And today, nearly two
years after his death, my love for him is stronger than ever.
"I knew but little of Mr. Taylor's past life, but I knew that he was an
honorable gentleman in all the word implies. He was a man's man, yet withal a
man of gentleness and kindliness. He was cultured, but yet not immune to the
human feelings of mankind.
"I cared not who or what he was, for when he put his arms around me and
said, 'Mary, I love you,' I knew that he was the one man in the whole world
for me. And when I think that if it had not been for the continual bitter
opposition to our engagement I would have been his wife it is almost more
than I can bear. No wonder I am bitter.
"My whole life was wrapped up in him. When I would come home from the
studio I would dream of the home in which William Taylor and I would spend
the balance of our lives.
"But, no, he was too old, I was told. He was not an old man. William--
possibly you think it strange that I called him William or Mr. Taylor, but I
so worshipped him that I could not think of calling him Bill--used to tell me
that he would not allow me to sacrifice myself on a man his age.
" 'I wonder if I am doing the right thing?' he would often ask me. 'You
have brought me the greatest happiness of my life, but you have come at the
time of the Setting Sun, while you are in the glory of youth.'
"But I would not have it so. I knew that the years I spent with him, no
matter how short, would be the happiest of my life, and we often discussed
the little home we were going to build up in the Hollywood Hills.
"Then came his death. It was like a bolt from a clear sky. I was simply
stunned. With my soul starved for love by the life I had led at home, his
tenderness and kindness seemed doubly sweet.
"It was at this time that all the pressure possible was brought to bear
by those under whose influence I was at the time to see that my engagement
with Mr. Taylor was kept secret.
"I mustn't talk; it would hurt my career; it was the same old story of
hushing and shushing. The public must never know that I was engaged. I must
be a little girl with golden curls. It would never do for the world to know
that I was a human being instead of a doll-faced automaton."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
August 14, 1923
LOS ANGELES HERALD
Love Diary of Mary Minter is Bared
The silent leaves of Mary Miles Minter's love diary spoke today and told
for the first time their heart-throbbing story of a tragic romance which has
extended beyond the grave.
With the passion and pathos of a literary classic they voiced of the
thrill and thraldom of the deep and enduring affection of the beautiful young
motion picture star for a man more than twice her age.
The diary is bound in scarlet moire silk, as scarlet as the life-blood
of William Desmond Taylor that stained the floor of his home on that
memorable night he met death at the hands of an assassin, and in it Mary
Miles Minter has recorded the yearnings and longings for her lost love.
The first entry in the book was made two weeks after the death of
Taylor.
"Oh, my beloved, where are you?" the heartbroken girl wrote.
Then she described her longing for the man whose arms would no longer
embrace her.
"You were to have been mine. Had I known you were to have been taken
from me no power on earth could have kept us apart."
It was night. In the distance music was playing. She recorded memories
of happier times when music, which Taylor loved, had been a part of their
lives. She told of her hours of anguish and bitter weeping for the man who
was gone. "Where? I do not know, my beloved. But you are near, somewhere, of
that I am certain. You could not leave me so utterly hopeless, alone and
forlorn."
Nine days later she again makes an entry of her grief and loss in the
little book. This time "Chummy," the dog Taylor gave her, was stolen. "They
have even taken away what you have given me," she wrote. "How a dog can
understand! Better than most humans."
Then in Honolulu, in June. Again the dancing throng of that playground
of the Pacific recalled happier days with the man she had loved and lost. But
she believed Taylor was not far away. She felt his presence and the little
diary carried a message not of a hopeless death, but to one who had "gone
away for a little time and would return again.
"It is night again, dearest, our time of peace and surcease from the
stress of life that grows so weary at times. Morning will come all too soon:
and with its coming will begin again the weary tasks of life. Life without
you, dearest, is weary. Our love was like a great white star that burns its
way across the heavens. They are dancing down below. I can see them from the
window. The lovely gowns look like bright colored balloons against the dark
background.
"Oh, Desmond, my love, where are you? Surely not so far away but that I
will find you somehow, somewhere?"
It was June again, in California. A year has rolled by since the last
entry in the little diary. But the heart-hungry girl is still seeking her
lost one. She is a woman now and realizes more fully her loss.
"How long, my love, how long until you clasp me again in your dear
arms?"
That is the love of Mary Miles Minter for William Desmond Taylor, who
rests under the golden sunshine in "God's Acre," where sleep the dead of this
and other generations.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
August 15, 1923
LOS ANGELES EXAMINER
Mary Minter Story Stuns Mrs. Shelby
Prostrated by her daughter's revelation of her romance with William
Desmond Taylor, Mrs. Charlotte Shelby has suffered a relapse.
When shown the story of her daughter's engagement and the culmination of
her tragic romance, she read the article from beginning to end, only to
reply;
"I can't talk; it is all too terrible. Please leave me alone in my
sorrow and grief."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
August 15, 1923
Mary Miles Minter
LOS ANGELES TIMES
August 14, 1923
LOS ANGELES HERALD
[The following is an edited combination of her own written account published
in the TIMES, and an interview published in the HERALD.]
Mary Minter Bares Taylor Love Affair
It has happened! For months and months I have been hoping and praying
that my differences with my mother might not bring up again the dreadful
incidents of the murder of William Desmond Taylor. I have tried and tried to
make no references to it in my statements concerning my effort to secure an
accounting from my mother, but newspaper reporter after newspaper reporter
has hounded me day and night always with questions, questions, questions
about Mr. Taylor. The Times is the only newspaper which has not done this and
because of this fact I am now giving the first statement that I have ever
given under my own name.
William Desmond Taylor came into my life when I was 17 years of age. He
was the first man ever to call me Miss Minter.
"How do you do, Miss Minter?" he said to me when first we were
introduced, and then he smiled.
Always before I had been called Mary and treated like a child by men and
women alike, but Mr. Taylor called me "Miss Minter," which at that age, heart
hungry as I was, made an instant impression. From that moment he fascinated
me. I loved him the first time I saw him. "This is God," my heart sang when I
looked into his face.
I know the world will think that a very immature age and a very foolish
conclusion for one so young. But you must remember that while for the last
three years of my life my mother has tried to keep me a "little girl" with
curls down my back, she earlier had made me appear and act older than I was.
When I was 8 years old I was passed off for 16, twice my age, and
dressed as a midget, with high heels and long skirts, so that I could play
the stellar role of "The Littlest Rebel" at the Chicago Opera House. That was
because the state law of Illinois prohibited children under 16 years of age
from appearing as professional performers.
These things have an effect upon a child that all the training and
coaching in the world cannot eliminate. When I went into the movies it was
different. Then mother wished to undue all the training of maturity she had
imposed upon me and have me appear unsophisticated and simple, childlike and
trustful. It was paradoxical. But I matured very quickly in this glorious
sunshine and gorgeous setting of California.
With the passing of the adolescent period, it became very evident to
mother that men were attracted to me. I liked the company of men. They were
jolly, good companions, splendid comrades and were not forever saying, "Don't
do this," or "Don't do that."
It worried mother because I was popular with them. The few with whom I
cam in contact were not attracted to Margaret. This was a bitter pill to both
her and mother. Margaret is older than I and mother thought she should be
given preference. But if a girl does not naturally attract men, all her
efforts will fail.
That was the status of things when I first met William Desmond Taylor. I
knew when I laid eyes on him that he was the one man in the world for me, and
that he reciprocated my love.
It was not long afterward that we were in New England making a picture.
My mother, my grandmother and sister were with the company.
I used to listen for his footsteps as he came into the door of the
little hotel where we stayed. I recognized them as they went up the stairway
and into his room, which was just over the little parlor where we all sat.
One time we all went into Boston for a dinner party for me. He rode in
the automobile between my grandmother and me. The road was rough and bumpy,
his arms were spread across the rear of the back seat in which we rode. One
bump threw grandmother against him and he said, "I guess I will have to hold
you." But his arm did not embrace me.
"Dare I? Dare I?" I said to myself. I dared and I reached up and tugged
at his coat sleeve and he dropped his arm about my waist. And coming home he
did the same thing again.
The thrill of that innocent act thrilled me for days and days. We spent
what little time we could together, which was not much because mother always
watched and every night after I had gone to bed she used to sit in the little
parlor with him just as much as he would let her while he was working on his
script.
One day it rained dreadfully. We were out somewhere and he wrapped his
coat about me and took me to the hotel. There stood mother, fairly raging.
She accused Mr. Taylor before the entire company of taking me out,
humiliating him most shamefully.
For two days I hardly spoke to him and then I apologized for mother's
action.
"Your mother is right, Mary," he said. "She is right and you must always
obey her."
That was the beginning of quarrels between mother and I. He soon left
and came to California. Grandmother and I came later, while mother and sister
remained in the East. Sister Margaret had a sort of beaked nose and she had
it operated on to straighten it out. That kept them in the East.
We had a glorious reunion when we came west. Grandmother and I went
riding with him, to dinner, to the theater. Then mother came.
He used to call at our house. But soon mother noticed his preference for
me. She put a stop to it. Until she knew of my love for Mr. Taylor, she had
only words of praise for him.
Then, suddenly, she turned against him.
I told Mr. Taylor of her attitude.
"Your mother knows best, Mary. I am an old man," he would say.
Then I would kiss the words away. I did not know Mr. Taylor's age, but
he was not old in spirit or understanding and that was all that mattered to
me. He was mine. I wanted him, to be his wife, to be able to do the thousand
and one little things for him that only a wife can do. I would have married
him then and there, but he said we must wait.
"Wait a while, Mary dear," he would caution. "Ah, do not think I don't
want you, child. It is not that. But because of my great love for you I would
shield you from the unkindness of the world. And the world would never
forgive me for blighting your career. We must wait."
But I did not want to wait. Perhaps many women would be ashamed to admit
what I have admitted. But I am not ashamed. Our love was a glorious thing.
"Why should we wait?" I would protest. As long as we had each other what else
counted? Then I wrote letters, passionate, impulsive letters. Some of them
were published. Many of those letters were written two years before he died.
And he kept them. That was my one thought at the time. He kept them.
Surely he must have loved me deeply, sincerely, to have kept them for so
long. I did everything I could to make him break his resolve and marry at
once. Not to wait until I was older.
I loved him, oh, so sincerely and he loved me. He told me so many, many
times.
We were never engaged in the sense that he had asked me to marry him and
I had promised. I had always hoped that sometime we would be married. But I
had planned in my own mind--never with Mr. Taylor--that as soon as I had made
enough money so that mother and sister could be assured of a comfortable
income for the rest of their lives--that perhaps we would be married. But not
engaged in the sense of wearing a ring, or of telling one's friends of an
intention to marry or of telling my mother. Marrying Mr. Taylor was just my
dream--a dream which, voiced to film, always met with the answer that it was
impossible.
Then mother took me to Europe. She told me of the lovely things we would
buy over there. Things that were to be for my home, she said. Where are they
today? Mother has them, if you please, and tells me they are not mine but
hers.
Mr. Taylor went to Europe, too. But I did not get to see him. Mother saw
to that. I pleaded with her to let me see him but she always insisted that
she would not permit me to throw myself at Mr. Taylor's head. So we tramped
all over Europe, always careful to keep a safe distance between me and the
man I loved.
Eventually we came home. Mother and Margaret stopped over in Chicago and
I came on west, home. I sent Mr. Taylor a message and he met me with flowers
and a lovelight in his eyes that told me his affection for me had not
diminished during my absence.
I had a few days of delightful comradeship with him before mother
returned, for my grandmother understood our great love and did not offer any
interference.
But when mother came home again Mr. Taylor was forbidden the house.
Whenever I could I would slip away with Mr. Taylor, but the times seemed
so far apart. All too seldom.
Finally he told me I must not write him any more and must not call him
up, that he would telephone to me. I waited a week, two weeks, three weeks
and he did not call. I swallowed my humiliation and called him. His butler
answered and told me he was ill. He was too ill to talk with me. I gave the
butler instructions of what to make him eat, to see that he was well covered
during the night. For five days he did not eat a thing and during it all I
suffered more than I can express.
Early in December before he was shot I had telephoned him and told him
that I must see him. We had not talked with each other for weeks. We would
pass on the lot and he would smile so sweetly, but in his eyes was the love-
light that none but I could see. He made an appointment for me to come to his
house in two weeks. Grandmother and I went. The house was dark. I was
heartbroken. In the keyhole I twisted one of the little golden hairpins that
I wear so that he would know I was there.
No word from him, no telephone call. On December 23 I was downtown
buying some Christmas presents--one for him that I never got to give him. I
have it still. There in the store opposite me in another aisle he stood. He
smiled so sweetly, bowed and was gone. The clerk came and brought some
samples of something and I told her to wrap it up. I don't even know what it
was, I was so dazed. My maid grasped me by the arm thinking I was going to
faint. He went away.
A few nights afterward I could not sleep. Everyone had gone to bed. I
tiptoed to my grandmother's room and told her I must go to him. She tried to
dissuade me, offered to go with me, but I told her no, that this was
something I must do alone.
I gathered up his pictures and a little golden mesh bag he had given me
and stopped to write him a note. It said:
"Dear William Desmond Taylor: This is good-by. I want you to know that I
will always love you. Mary."
I got out my car myself and went to his house. There was a light shining
behind the blind. I rang the bell. All was silence. My heart stopped. I was
afraid that perhaps he had gone out and that he had left the lights burning.
But then I heard the rattle of a newspaper, the door opened and there he
stood.
"Why, Mary," he said. "It's quite late, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is, nearly 12 o'clock," I answered. "But I must see you," and I
pushed past him into the room.
I noticed things were changed. That the furniture was moved, but on the
wall
there still hung my pictures, two of them and one of Mabel Normand.
"Mary you should not have come here," he said. He was trembling, seemed
to grow old standing before me. Perspiration covered his brow.
"Here, read it. It's good-by," I said, handing him the note I had
written. He read it and without a word turned to his desk, fumbled about and
then handed me a note.
"I thought you had gotten this two weeks ago," he said. I started to
open it.
"No, no," he cried. "Not here."
"But I must," I said. "I must. Maybe there is something in it I must
answer."
"No, I beg of you, I entreat you. I cannot stand it if you do. Don't!"
"Then tell me that you love me," I said.
"I love you Mary, better than anything in this world, more than God," he
answered.
He led me to my car, helped me in. I reached out and squeezed his hand.
In the house he had clenched his teeth, his face was drawn; his fingernails
had been gripped so hard that he brought blood when the nails cut the skin.
He had used a silk handkerchief he had tucked in his upper coat pocket to
wipe away the blood. As we stood by the car door I pulled this handkerchief
from his pocket and took it, handing him mine. He kissed it and slowly walked
back into the house. I drove home.
That was the last time I ever saw him alone. After that a few times I
met him on the lot. Again he smiled and spoke, but that was all.
In February one morning I was dressing. It was about 11 o'clock. I was
standing in my undergarments before the mirror fixing my hair. I heard my
mother's footsteps coming, pat, pat, pat down the hall. I knew something was
wrong from the way she was walking.
She pounded on the door. "Let me in," she said.
"But I am not dressed," I protested. I had on nothing but a chemise, and
mother always scolded me if I appeared before her even in a negligee.
"Let me in," she fairly shouted. "Let me in or I shall break down the
door." All this time she was pounding.
I told her she must wait until I got into a dress and then I opened the
door.
"What do you think has happened?" she said.
I looked at her, for she seemed greatly excited. "William Desmond Taylor
has just been found murdered in his bed." She added some more words which
were not altogether complimentary to Mr. Taylor. "Where were you last night?"
"I was here, of course," I said, hardly realizing what she was saying.
I was dumbfounded. Mother talked on in a most excited manner. I can't
remember what she said--all of it--but it was something about this would
teach me a lesson and how to behave myself in the future.
Then mother said, "Well, why don't you say something?"
I couldn't. I was too hurt.
I grabbed a hat, a wrap and then began to look through my pocket book,
through the drawers of the dresser. I was hunting for the keys to my car. I
thought I would go frantic in the few moments that it took.
"Where are you going?" mother asked.
"To him, of course," I replied.
"You cannot, you cannot. I shall not let you," she said and stood before
the door to stop me. "You'll not leave this room. I'm going to lock you in
and here you'll stay until I say you can come out."
I pleaded with her.
"You've kept me from the man I love in life and you can't keep me from
him in death. I'll scream and raise the neighborhood. I am going to him if I
have to throttle you to get past," I cried. And she stepped aside.
I drove to his home in a daze. Newspaper reporters, officers and other
people were before the house. They were carrying out books and papers.
"Who are you and what are you doing here?" they asked me.
"I am Mary Miles Minter and I have come to see Mr. Taylor," I answered.
"But he is not here. They have taken him to the undertakers," they said.
I got in my car and drove downtown to the undertakers. I drove and
drove, round and round that block until finally I found the place. I went in.
I asked to see him and they told me I could not, that they were trying to
find the bullet.
"I must see him. I must see him," I told the man.
"You cannot see him until after the inquest," I was told. "It is against
the law for me to let you see him before."
Finally he promised me that I could see him the next day at noon and I
went away.
Then I drove to Mabel Normand's home. I was frantic. Without ringing the
bell I went in. There were reporters in the parlor waiting for her. I rushed
upstairs. She was dressing.
I grasped her by the shoulders, shook her and looked straight into her
eyes.
"What do you know about it?" I asked.
"Nothing," she answered simply.
"Not a thing but what they have told me."
And I believed her and still believe her.
The next day I went to the undertakers and they let me in all alone with
him. I pulled back the sheet and looked at him. But he was not the same. His
skin was waxen. I leaned down and put my arms about him, my cheek next to
his.
His face was cold, so cold, but not a cold like ice.
"Do you love me, Desmond?" I said.
He answered me. I could hear his voice.
"I love you, Mary; I shall love you always," he whispered. I kissed him
and put a red rose in his hand from some I had brought with me.
The door opened. The undertaker was there. I went away.
Mother and the attorney did the talking for me. They told of my
childlike affection for an old man. How I trusted and loved him as a father.
But I tell you here and now it was no childlike affection. It was a full
grown woman's love for her mate. For William Desmond Taylor is the one great
love of my life and always will be.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
August 15, 1923
LOS ANGELES HERALD
How old is Mary Miles Minter?
Is she 30 years of age, as her father says she is?
Is she 21 years of age, as her mother says she is?
Or is the age of the beautiful motion picture star as much of a mystery
to others as it is to herself and as she recorded in her diary, along with
her heart secrets of her great passion for William Desmond Taylor when she
wrote, "Nobody knows my real age."
The little book, whose mute revelations of the great love Mary Miles
Minter bore her ill-fated fiance, has spoke again.
"Nobody knows my real age," Miss Minter wrote. "Even Jeanie McPherson,
my closest friend, does not know that. They tell me I am a child. Perhaps I
am. Yet I feel tonight, since you went away,"--referring to Taylor's death--
that I am 50."
In news dispatches from Dallas, Tex., where he is employed on a
newspaper as a proof reader, Homer Riley, who declares he is the father of
Mary Miles Minter, emphatically states that Mary Miles Minter is 30 years of
age.
The mystery of Miss Minter's age also may throw some light upon the
recent avowal of the girl that Mrs. Shelby was not acting in purely a
motherly role in attempting to disrupt the romance between Miss Minter and
William Desmond Taylor, slain film director.
At the time of Taylor's murder Mrs. Shelby declared against the protest
of Miss Minter that her daughter loved Taylor in a fatherly fashion.
"She knows better than that," Miss Minter vehemently declared.
"Mother knew just how I loved Mr. Taylor. There was no fatherly love in
our relationship."
Miss Minter then declared that her mother had endeavored to play the
role of rival for the love of Taylor.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
August 15, 1923
LOS ANGELES HERALD
Mother Loved Taylor, Says Mary Minter
"Mother liked William Desmond Taylor very much. In fact she tried to
interest him in herself. She sought to put me in the background and her
interference in my romance was not because she wished to protect me but
because she considered me a rival."
This new revelation of Mary Miles Minter, casts a different reflection
of the movie star's relations with her mother, Mrs. Charlotte Shelby and
leads friends of the girl to believe that perhaps love and rivalry and not
finances after all is behind the quarrel between them.
"Mother thought that he was more her age than mine and she sought in
every way to win his favor. It was not until she discovered that he cared
more for me did she cease extending him the warmth of her friendship.
"When Mr. Taylor realized my mother's attitude--that she tried to keep
me from him through jealousy--he, in his kind, considerate way, told me I was
a little girl and that I should consider my mother. 'You know I love you more
than anything in life but you must do nothing to displease her,' he told me."
A report from the Shelby home today indicated that Mrs. Shelby is
willing to make any settlement with Mary providing the girl gives no more
interviews regarding the Taylor affair.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
August 16, 1923
LOS ANGELES TIMES
Mary Miles Minter is Gone
Mary Miles Minter may perhaps not be missing, but she certainly is
absent--A.W.O.L. may be the better way of putting it. Mary's friends searched
for her in vain yesterday. At her Pasadena bungalow it was reported that she
did not come home Tuesday night and had not been there during yesterday.
At the home of Mary's mother, the home on South New Hampshire Street
which Mary says is really hers, and not Mrs. Charlotte Shelby's, a maid
volunteered the information that Mrs. Shelby was very weak and could not be
seen. Her daughter, Margaret, is the constant companion of her mother.
Miss Margaret is declared to have laughed outright when she read an
evening newspaper stating that in reality Mary is more than 30 years of age.
Margaret, who has always admittedly been an older sister, said it was really
a good joke--i.e., the item of Mary's age.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
August 16, 1923
LOS ANGELES EXPRESS
Everybody appeared to be sick of the whole thing. No one was to be seen.
Sister Margaret was out--for the day.
Mrs. Shelby too ill to be seen.
Mary Miles Minter has disappeared, seemingly into thin air.
Evidently the generals in both camps needed a breathing spell, or did it
mean retreat?
The Shelby-Minter duet was evidently to be given the soft pedal.
In one short week, they had run the gamut, with Mary's high angry
trills, and mother's low dignified alto.
With Mary's doll story thrown into the ring for comedy, and the William
Desmond Taylor case dug up to supply the tragedy.
The play seemed over, and the audience ready for a new farce or tragedy.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
August 15, 1923
LOS ANGELES HERALD
Documents Located in South
Mary Miles Minter was 21 years old April 25, last.
The statements attributed to her father that she was 30 years old were
officially exploded today in dispatches received from Shreveport, La., where
the official records showed that she was born April 25, 1902, and christened
Juliet Riley.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
August 17, 1923
LOS ANGELES TIMES
Miss Minter is Found
After spending what she characterized at "the two happiest days of my
life, because I did not see a single reporter," Mary Miles Minter was found
by a reporter for the Times late last night.
But Miss Minter made up for time lost away from reporters by declaring
she has not "disappeared," but is only seeking seclusion, that she is "still
keeping advised as to mother's health," that she has not signed any
theatrical contracts as yet; and that she will be very grateful if anyone can
prove to her that she is 30 years old, as reported.
Miss Minter's statement is as follows:
"If the Los Angeles Times or anyone else in this world can prove that I
am 30 years old, I will be deeply grateful to them. I supposed I was only 21
years old. If I am really 30, I will be able to collect from my mother a much
larger sum than I hoped to get.
"The money I am seeking an accounting for comprises my earnings under my
Lasky contract for the past three years, or, in other words, since I have
been of legal age in California. The three years is on the basis that I am 21
years old. My mother has always told me that the legal age is 21 years,
therefore, I had supposed I was a minor until my twenty-first birthday. As a
matter of fact, however, legally I have been my own boss for three years and
did not know it.
"I have made considerable sums of money in pictures in the years prior
to my eighteenth birthday. Therefore, if I were now 30 I could have more
years of earnings for which I could seek an accounting from my mother."
In the meantime Mrs. Shelby is reported as still too ill to be
interviewed. Miss Margaret, upon orders of the family attorney, has nothing
further to say.
Word was also received from Dallas that the correct age of Miss Minter
is 21 years. J. H. Reilly, her father confirmed that Miss Minter was born in
Shreveport, La., in 1902. He also denied that he had made any statements to
the effect that Miss Minter was 30 years of age.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
(This concludes the series "The Humor of A Hollywood Murder")
*****************************************************************************
NEXT ISSUE:
Did a Canadian Army Veteran Kill Taylor?
Charlotte Shelby's Last Two Interviews (1937)
Interview with Mary Miles Minter (1937)
Wallace Smith: February 10, 1922
The Truth About Hollywood, Part 1
*****************************************************************************
NOTES:
[1]"kale"-- money.
[2]This poem should obviously be sung to the tune "Sidewalks of New York."
[3]"demi-monde"-- the class of women who have lost social standing because of
sexual promiscuity.
[4]"poms"--Pomeranian dogs.
*****************************************************************************
For more information about Taylor, see
WILLIAM DESMOND TAYLOR: A DOSSIER (Scarecrow Press, 1991)
Back issues of Taylorology are available via Gopher or FTP at
etext.archive.umich.edu
in the directory pub/Zines/Taylorology
