The Coward (1915)

This Civil War drama was produced and co-written, with C. Gardner Sullivan, by Thomas Ince for Kay-Bee Pictures. It’s been praised for the restraint of its acting, a notable thing given the subject matter and the ease with which many early screen actors could have slipped in old theatrical, melodramatic ways.

Charles Ray stars as Frank Winslow, son of Col. Jefferson Beverly Winslow (Frank Keenan), a well-to-do southern gentleman of the Virginia of 1861. When word arrives at Winslow Hall that a recruiting office for the Confederacy has been set up in town, Frank immediately realizes that he is too fearful to enlist. He shames his girl (Patricia Palmer as Amy) and his parents by failing to sign on the dotted line.

Col. Winslow has a heart-to-heart talk with his son and convinces him, at the point of a gun, that the family honor will be left in tatters if he ignores the call of duty. Mrs. Winslow (Gertrude Clair) is torn between wanting to see Frank become a decorated hero and not wanting to see him carried home on his shield. 

Frank Keenan, as the Colonel, is being eaten alive from the inside but tries to keep the pain from showing on his face. He bottles the emotion, exhibiting but a slight tremble. 

After enlistment, Frank is given night time picket duty and every little sound frightens him. He is terrified by a rabbit in the bushes, drops his rifle and abandons his post to scurry home. There the black servants (Nick Cogley and Minnie Devereaux, white actors in blackface) try to protect him, but the Colonel discovers him in the kitchen. Brought nearly to tears, he decides to take his son’s place in the army so when Frank Winslow’s name is sounded at roll call, someone will be there to respond.

With Col. Winslow gone and Frank hiding in the attic, a group of Union soldiers quarter themselves at the Hall and discuss their plans for routing the rebels. Frank overhears them and “The blood of his fathers, the shadowy hands of past generations of fighting men shatter the fetters of cowardice,” and the film hastens to an ending that could have been written by Ambrose Bierce.

The cast also features Charles K. French as an understanding and sentimental Confederate Commander, and, somewhere, an uncredited John Gilbert.

Director Reginald Barker and cinematographers Joseph H. August and Robert S. Newhard make the most of the production’s reduced circumstances. The entire picture cost $18,000, so if the film seems a little like Griffith-Lite, that’s one of the reasons.