Part 578: The Tale of Lee Lash and the Tivoli Advertising Curtain
For the next few posts, I will look at the life of Lee Lash and the origin of the advertising curtain. It is being included at this point in Thomas G. Moses’ story because in 1908 and 1909 some areas of the country were calling for the removal of advertising curtains. The origin of the American advertising curtain is an interesting tale, often crediting Lee Lash with the idea. This story even is included in the Cambridge Guide to American Theatre.
Here a brief summary of the tale: When Lee Lash was a young painter and working on an olio curtain in San Francisco, he conceived of the idea of incorporating the names of advertisers in natural places within a street scene (rather than the customary practice of painting the names in “patchwork style”). His idea worked so well that he founded Lee Lash Studios, soon expanding its operations to serve theaters across the country. Now, much could be said about the actual composition of Lee Lash’s curtain versus the supposed “patchwork quilt” one too. First of all, advertising curtains were around long before Lash.
There is a second version of the story, however; one that is told by William H. Chambliss in his memoirs. Chambliss blames Lash for stealing the advertising curtains idea from Charles D. Smith. I am starting with Chambliss’ version of events as they are a “first hand” account, and it is a far more entertaining tale. This is a novel length post today, but certainly worth it!
Chambliss’ story was part of “Chambliss’ Diary: Or, Society As It Really Is, 1895.” His account was fully illustrated with over fifty copper-plate half-tones and photo engravings, including twenty-five society pictures by Laura E. Foster. His account is available online as part of “California as I Saw It: First-Person Narratives of California’s Early Years, 1849-1900.”
Although it is very long, here is Chambliss’ account. It is really worth reading:
“I undertook to start a new line of advertising here, and made arrangements with the late Mr. Kreling to put an advertising curtain in the Tivoli Opera House; but a bum artist named Lee Lash, a member of the Bohemian Club, and a supposed friend, whom I employed to make a sample sketch of the Tivoli drop curtain to show the merchants how the signs were to be placed on it, appropriated the contract and the idea, together with sixty dollars in cash.
With the assistance of his father, and his brother Sam, and their attorney, Edward Lande of 405 California Street, Lee Lash developed the curtain scheme on the stolen idea. He made a good deal of money out of it, so I am told.
“I employed “Lawyer” W. M. Cannon to enjoin the Lashes from using the ideas, and have Lee arrested for obtaining money under false pretenses; but the shyster compromised with the knaves for the sixty dollars which Lee got from me. The shyster then charged me half of the amount for giving Lash a 336 receipt that left him in undisputable possession of the business.
This lesson taught me to steer clear of the society of sheenies and shysters. Creations like the Lashes, claiming to be Jews, are well calculated to get honest Jews a bad name.
“The chapter of the Lash history with which I am personally acquainted affords such a true picture of the real character of the particular class to which he belongs that it would be an injustice to my readers to omit a brief mention of it. I see no reason in the world why I should not give it to my readers; I certainly paid for it, and paid dearly, too.
“I met Mr. Lee Lash through some mutual acquaintances in January, 1891. I shall not give the names of those mutual acquaintances, for I esteem them very highly. They have expressed to me their regrets for ever having known Mr. Lash at all. At the time of my first chance meeting with Lash, I was an officer of the City of Peking, and Mr. Lash was introduced to me as the “talented young artist.” He had a studio in the back yard of his father’s house upon Post Street, but subsequently he moved out and set up in “business” in a little cottage at 2309 Bush Street, near Steiner, and right close to a big Catholic church.
“In April, 1892, while I was confined to my room at the Palace Hotel from the effects of a bullet of lead which Dr. McNutt had extracted from my right leg, some lady friends of mine called upon me one day, bringing Lee Lash along to carry some flowers which they had picked for me. Mr. Lash, in the kindness of his heart, called again. About this time, while waiting for my wounded leg to get well, Mr. Charles Duryea Smith of New York called in to talk over the proposition of going into business in San Francisco, mentioning the advertising business.
“Mr. Smith proposed to put advertisements on theater drop curtains, a scheme which was well known to everybody in New York and Paris. Mr. Smith said that if I would go into business with him he would secure a contract with Mr. Kreling to advertise on the Tivoli drop curtain. He went off and made arrangements with Kreling to that effect, and, while I was not enthused with his wild ideas of vast wealth to be made in that line, I agreed to go in with him as soon as I got well enough to walk out. The young man seemed highly pleased with the prospects, and left me on the evening of April 19 in high spirits.
“That night there was a violent earthquake which shook San Francisco from cellar to garret. The shocks kept coming at intervals for three days, and I think they shook my poor friend Smith’s mind all to pieces, for he came in to see me on the morning after the first shock, looking like a ghost. “My God, William,” said the poor boy, “do you have those things very often? If so, I will—” He did not finish his sentence, for just then a rumbling sound, like an approaching freight train, caught his ear. “Great Heavens, it’s another earthquake!” said he. In a second the giant caravansary began to rock and groan; windows rattled, doors flew open, and it looked for a few seconds as if we were going into the bowels of the earth. General T. B. Bunting of Santa Cruz and Mr. M. G. Coward, now of the Chicago Times-Herald, were in my room at the time, and they will remember this circumstance: “Good-by, gentlemen,” said Mr. Smith, “I am going to leave this rocky, shaky city.” So saying, he left the room, and hurried away to his own apartments.
The next day the bell boy handed me a note reading as follows:
PALACE HOTEL, Thursday, April 21, 1892.
MY DEAR WILLIAM: I am going home to-night. Would have gone last night, but could not secure a sleeper. Will drop in later to tell you good-by. If you wish to develop the curtain scheme go ahead and do so; I must get out of San Francisco. Sincerely yours, (Signed) CHAS. D. SMITH.
“I waited in hopes of seeing Mr. Smith before he left. I expected him to call, but he never came. The next day, Friday, April 22, my young friend William O. Warnock, a nephew of Mrs. Adam Forepaugh, of circus fame, called at the Palace and took me out for a drive, to give me a little fresh air. We drove down toward San Bruno and called on some young lady friends of ours living out in the country, the Misses Nellie and Kate Dowling. Miss Nellie ran down to the front gate to meet us.
“Just then a boy came along crying out: “Extra Report, all about the suicide!” Miss Nellie got a copy of the Report, and read: “Suicide at the Palace Hotel. Charles D. Smith ends his earthly troubles. Failing to hear from New York relatives, and becoming completely stranded, he puts a bullet in his heart.” The Report went on to explain that the poor fellow was dunned for a week’s board bill by Cashier Charles Clark of the hotel, and that having not the necessary funds with which to pay, had ended his life rather than ask anyone to help him out. Had he known Mr. Clark as well as I do, he would not have bothered his head about the propriety of asking that gentleman for a little time, or even a small loan. Mr. Clark is a very obliging cashier. I have had favors from him myself, which I am happy to mention in order to clear this good man of the awful charge of having driven a guest of his hotel to suicide.
“Subsequently I learned something more about poor Smith. He was the son of a wealthy New Yorker, who, like a great many other unjust fathers, as well as would-be adopted fathers,—like Captain R. R. Searle,—threw barriers in the way of the young man’s matrimonial inclinations. This sad case of young Smith, and other similar cases, justify the assertion that I made in the New York Herald, March 17, 1895: The parent or guardian who prevents a grown son or daughter from marrying is a worse enemy to society than a murderer, for he murders the spirit of the Goddess of Love, the highest redeeming spirit in mankind.
“It was on the next morning after the news of Smith’s suicide that Lee Lash called. During the discussion of the unfortunate affair I called Lash’s attention to the fact that it was strange that Smith should have considered himself hopelessly stranded when he had such a good money-making scheme under way. I also mentioned to Mr. Lash the fact that I intended to let Smith have some money with which to develop his scheme. At the same time I handed Lash Mr. Smith’s letter. Lash read the letter and then asked me all about the scheme. I told him the facts. In a minute Lash forgot all about the pathetic side of the story,—the suicide of the promoter of the scheme,—and began talking about my going ahead with it where Smith “left off.”
“Why! see here, my dear friend, Smith has willed you his scheme,” said Lash. “I am an artist,” continued Mr. Lash, “and I can paint the signs on the curtain; but you must remember that I am in a position which I cannot risk by going into trade. Sign painting is trade, you know, and I am an artist. But, since you are a friend of mine, I will do this work for you.” Mr. Lash seemed so enthusiastic, and was so persistent, that finally I told him to go ahead and make me a sketch of the Tivoli drop curtain, so that I could show it to the merchants. I gave Lash an idea of how many signs there should be, and also how big the sketch should be. “Good,” said Mr. Lash, “I will have it ready for you in twenty-four hours.” So saying he took his departure, after having explained to me that he was “hard up,” and did not propose to let his pride drive him to suicide, as in Smith’s case. “Would you let a man kill himself for a few paltry dollars?” asked Mr. Lash. “All that I want is ten dollars.” He got him the ten, and went his way rejoicing.*
*I did not know at the time that Lee Lash was the same “artist” who begged permission to paint a picture of the “Old People’s Home,” and subsequently tried to make that charitable institution pay two thousand dollars for his worthless daub.
“Mr. Lash did not complete the sketch in twenty-four hours, nor in a week. He kept running down to the Palace to tell me about some cigar signs or soap advertisements that he had seen on curtains in the demi-monde resorts of Paris where he had studied high art. I humored him in his nonsense, and told him to get me some sort of sketch finished, and improve it later. William Warnock asked me one day what Lash was doing around my room so much, and why he was in such a confidential mood with me all the time. I told Mr. Warnock the circumstances, and was somewhat surprised at his saying that he would bet me a French dinner that Lash was playing me some trick or other. I took the bet, and subsequently paid for the dinner.
“While keeping me waiting for the sketch, Mr. Lash went quietly to Mr. Kreling and, representing himself as the rightful owner of the scheme, secured a new contract with that man on his own behalf. The Mr. Lash wrote to his father, who was in some fake wine business in New Whatcom, Washington State, to hurry down to San Francisco and bring Sam Lash, the younger brother, with him.
“On the 10th of May Lee Lash made a demand on me to pay him $50 for the sketch, which was still unfinished. (An honest sign painter would have made the sketch in a few hours for $2.50, frame and all.) Mr. Lash then came right out and told me that if I did not wish to pay so much for the sketch, I could let him have a half interest in the enterprise. The talented artist subsequently assured me that if I did not care to accept either proposition, he would start an opposition business. Seeing that I had confided my “inherited” ideas to a false friend, having investigated the scheme and having found that there was money in it, I paid “the talented artist” $50 more, making $60 in all, and took the sketch, still only half finished.
“In the meantime old Isador Lash and Sam had arrived in the city. I took the $2.50 sketch, which had cost me $60, to Taber, the photographer, to have a copy made of it to send to Washington to have copyrighted. But the three Lashes, old man Isador, Lee, and Sam, got their heads together at the office of Edward Lande, an “attorney” of the Lash tribe, and together they went up to Mr. Taber and raised such a piteous howl about my having the sketch photographed, telling Mr. Taber that it was theirs, that the gullible old photographer gave the sketch to the little petty larceny Shylocks, who proceeded immediately to develop the business with the money that old Lash had made out of several well planned “failures” in trade. *
* New York, June 6, 1895. The subjects of the above biography are carrying on the drop curtain advertising enterprise in this city. Their office is at No. 25 West 30th Street. They have an office in Diamond Street, Philadelphia, also. They call it the “Lee Lash Company,” or the “Lee Lash Studios,” or some such Oscar Wilde name. I can recommend the “firm” from personal knowledge.
“After Sam Lash had secured some orders for advertisements, he and the old man and Lee opened up business in the old Merchants’ Exchange building, and called it the “Art Advertising Co.”
“The “talented young artist” abandoned his fastidious idea that an artist should not soil his artistic hands in vulgar trade, such as painting drop curtains. He of the artistic “tastes” (I don’t mean Oscar Wilde’s tastes) even got up on a scaffold to add some finishing touches to a bicycle “ad.”
“The artistic scaffold fell down and almost killed him. I am told that this accident crippled him in such a peculiar way as to constitute an impediment to matrimonial felicity. But of that I know nothing, never having studied surgery of that kind further than the lecture contained in Deuteronomy xxiii.
“The notoriety that I got through the papers over this affair brought me before the public in such a way that a great many other “business” men with schemes and ideas offered to let me go into partnership with them and invest various sums of money, which they assured me would “double in a little while.”
Giving credit to Chambliss’ account, the “San Francisco Examiner” reported that a letter was found in Smith’s belongings after his suicide stating, “Smith wrote that he had at last ‘found the road to fortune.’ But what the road was he failed to state” (23 April 1892. Page 3). It was the advertising curtain that Lee Lash would greatly benefit from. At one time, Lee Lash was reported as having advertising curtains in 1700 American theatres that brought him in more than $250,000 during the hey day of vaudeville – and that was just an annual curtain (Star-Gazette, 4 March, 1973, page 7). It really was the “road to fortune” that Charles D. Smith envisioned at the age of 32. Smith was from New York.
To be continued…
Here is the link to Chambliss’ tale: https://cdn.loc.gov//service/gdc/calbk/108.pdf
