Beryl was not the only expert on the film. Ever anxious for authenticity, the director had also hired Prince Modupe, scion of an unnamed African tribe, to teach the extras Swahili and the art of drumming. In addition, the chief set designer had lived in West Africa for many years prior to the First World War and had been Supervising Architect for the German Imperial Government there. As if this were not enough, reality was further provided by a small herd of elephants which grazed loose in the Santa Monica Hills location, and a tame leopard called Nissa, whose only foible was to refuse to work with any actor unless he or she had been drenched in gardenia perfume.18
Shooting started in August. The studio carpenter had built a practical seventy-foot stern-wheel boat. The first time out, it sank with all hands, including the two stars – however it was sailing in only four feet of water so no lives were lost and no damage done, except to the electric motor. It transpired that the turning of the ship’s wheel had caused the seams to spring, but after rapid repairs the boat was able to proceed in a dignified fashion around the lake.19
There were a series of further minor accidents during the shooting, but no serious delays resulted. Griffith, the film’s director, walked into a camera boom and cut a three-inch gash in his forehead on the first day’s shooting. The portable dressing room occupied by one of the supporting players, Muriel Angelus, (who filled a highly decorative but superfluous part in the story), caught fire and burned part of her wardrobe. A fire extinguisher broke loose from its moorings on the boat and hit Carminati on the head. The DH Gipsy Moth used for flying scenes backfired one day and started a small bush fire which stampeded the elephants. Apart from these diversions everything went well, and Beryl thought it ‘was the most tremendous fun’.20
Safari was finished by 22 December, well within its production schedule and budget, and everyone went off to celebrate Christmas, feeling pleased with themselves. The single exception to this was Douglas Fairbanks Jr. A few weeks before shooting had ended on 9 December, a birthday party had been thrown for him. It had been a brilliant and enjoyable affair attended by the entire cast and the star’s friends and family, including Doug Jr’s father Douglas Fairbanks accompanied by his third wife, the former Lady (Sylvia) Ashley. Doug Senior appeared tired. Two days later the man who had become a Hollywood legend died of a heart attack. It was a tremendous sadness for Doug Jr. When I asked for his memories of the filming of Safari his reply was, understandably, that his father’s death overshadowed all other memories of that period.21
In December, whilst working on the set of Safari, Beryl was recognized by a visiting British journalist, Molly Castle (known as the Hollywood Spy), who wrote an article on her for the Daily Mirror.
I’ve known Beryl Markham for years and years…but as long as I’ve known her I’ve hardly ever heard her talk about herself. She’s one of the most modest and self-effacing girls I’ve ever met. That’s unusual in most places but fatal in Hollywood. None of the local press has uncovered the story that she could tell – if she would. She is tall, slender and has long golden hair which I’ve never seen covered except by a flying helmet. Her legs are very long and she is one of the few women who really look good in slacks which she wears most of the time. She speaks Swahili as well as she speaks English which I found out only the other day when I heard the director of Safari asking for the pronunciation of a sentence. She rides perfectly but mostly as a method of transport rather than for the sport of it…She once earned her living on safari by elephant spotting for Freddie Guest’s outfit. Actually the picture on which Mrs Markham is advising, though full of thrills is by no means as exciting as some of her own adventures.
Asked by Ms Castle why she didn’t write a book about her adventures, Beryl said she didn’t think she could, but she might one day tell her adventure to someone who could make them the basis of a screenplay.22 The final paragraph of this article does seem to support the case of those who – many years later – argued that Beryl was not the author of her memoir. However Beryl’s statement on this occasion was made in the aftermath of a period of success at a time when she had no financial worries. After almost a year had passed without work she was to change her mind.
In Europe war had been declared. Initially it caused only minor ripples in the Hollywood community. Life there went on much as before except that the studio writing teams were told to start working on plots with a war theme. Soon, however, even Hollywood was affected when leading actors with English affiliations such as David Niven and Douglas Fairbanks Jr deserted the community ‘for the duration’. This was serious!23
Beryl loved California, with its smart, pleasure-bent, luxurious lifestyle and perfect climate. She soon had a host of friends, mostly – inevitably – of the handsome male variety, at least one of whom called her by her nickname ‘Toots’.24 Anita Loos introduced her to many useful contacts through whom Beryl hoped to get work on another picture; but meanwhile she was content to live a leisurely existence. She had enjoyed a good salary from the film, she was overwhelmed with invitations and in general she quickly became as much a part of the Hollywood scene as she had previously been part of the London one.
She enjoyed beach parties at Malibu – then unspoiled by the shack-like buildings which now litter the Pacific Coast Highway – and horseriding in the hills on the ranches of her friends. She spent lazy days around swimming pools and fun days of riding in open-topped Cadillac convertibles along wide palm-lined boulevards with Glenn Miller music streaming out from the car radio; evenings at never-ending parties, a-glitter with stars of the silver screen.
From time to time her name appeared in tit-bits of gossip, usually noted as a guest at the parties which were reported in the columns of writers such as Hedda Hopper. But as time went on, when no other film job was forthcoming and as no serious relationship developed, Beryl became anxious again. Among her circle of friends at the time was the French writer Antoine de Saint-Exupéry.
Beryl and Saint-Exupéry had a lot in common. Born in Lyon in 1900 into a wealthy French family, he was educated first by Jesuits until his unruly behaviour proved too much for them. Then he was sent to Switzerland where he was thoroughly grounded in the classics. Near his childhood home was an airfield and as he grew to manhood, Saint-Exupéry was fascinated by the aeroplanes, stating to his outraged parents that he wished to become an aviator. After some setbacks he persuaded them to agree to this unusual career and went to Strasbourg for a formal military course in flying.
In 1926 Saint-Exe (as he liked to be called) became a commercial pilot making regular trips on the Toulouse-Dakar run. Later he established the first airmail routes in South America from Brazil to Patagonia, and from 1932 to 1935 he flew airmail from France to the Sahara. In 1935 whilst on a long-distance flight over Africa he was forced down in the desert. Lost for three days he and his companions almost died of thirst before a timely rescue. He enlisted as a captain in the French Air Corps Reserve and when France fell, he disappeared after being captured by the Germans. It was feared that he had been executed, but he turned up again in Portugal, after escaping from his captors despite having his aeroplane shot from under him. He spent the early 1940s in America and, already established as a writer, through the classics Night Flight and Wind, Sand and Stars, he published the charming fairy story The Little Prince; this was followed by his last book Flight to Arras, which was published in 1942. He then returned to Europe and was killed in mysterious circumstances whilst engaged on a wartime flying mission over the Mediterranean.25
But in the winter of 1940 the lanky poet – for his own works are nothing if not poetic – with his round, good-natured face and bright eyes set under drooping eyelids, was living in Hollywood.26 Beryl had first met Exupéry during the summer of 1932, when he flew in the King’s Cup Air Race, achieving a fourth place, and she was there with Tom following her first solo flight to England. Exupéry was also a good friend of Sydney St Barbe and Hubert Broad27 whom, a year earlier, Mansfield had cited as Beryl’s co-respondent i
n the divorce case. Beryl told friends that it was Saint-Exupéry who encouraged her to draft an outline for her autobiography,28 and on his recommendation she sent it to Ann Watkins, a New York literary agent. Work began on early chapters of her book and my personal feeling is that Saint-Exupéry did more than merely encourage her; that he may have shaped the book for her and helped her to establish a style.
There are unmistakable similarities between Saint-Exupéry’s writing and Beryl’s autobiographical work. It is not the purpose of this book to put forward a detailed literary assessment of the styles of these two writers, but a short example will illustrate the similarity in phraseology and even tempo which occurs in many places throughout both authors’ works. In the following extract from Wind, Sand and Stars, which had been published shortly before Beryl started working on her memoir, Saint-Exupéry describes a room and a character:
In one of these [workman’s houses] Sergeant R—was sleeping fully dressed on an iron cot. When he had lighted a candle and had stuck it into the neck of a bottle, and had drawn forth out of the darkness that funereal bed, the first thing that came into view was a pair of clogs. Enormous clogs, iron-shod and studded with nails, the clogs of a sewer worker or a railway track-walker. All the poverty in the world was in those clogs. No man ever strode with happy steps through life in clogs like those; he boarded life like a longshoreman for whom life is to be unloaded.29
In chapter twenty-two of West with the Night Beryl describes her arrival with Blix at a brothel – the only accommodation they were able to find in Benghazi on their journey from Kenya to London in 1936:
A door opened down the yard and a woman came towards us. She had a lighted candle and she lifted it close to our faces. Her own face held the lineage of several races, none of which had given it distinction. It was a husk with eyes. She spoke but we understood nothing. Hers was a language neither of us had ever heard.
…She showed us two rooms not even separated by a door. Each contained an iron bed that cowered under a sticky blanket and had an uncovered pillow at its head…Everything lay under scales of filth. ‘All the diseases of the world live here,’ I said to Blix.30
Even in these small extracts there is more than a vague similarity. In both cases the author is struck with the poverty of the room which coincidentally includes an iron bed. And the two phrases ‘All the poverty in the world was in those clogs’ and ‘All the diseases of the world live here’, are surely the result of something more than coincidence. Beryl was to continue writing in this vein long after Saint-Exupéry had gone from her life, even after his death in 1944, but it seems certain that it was he who taught her how to find her literary voice.
By December 1940 Beryl’s financial problems had escalated because the income from her annuity could only be paid into a sterling area due to wartime currency restrictions. Her solicitors, Withers and Co. of London, suggested that Canada or the Bahamas would be a convenient place to make the monthly payments, but she would not be able to transfer the money from there into the United States. A coincidence occurred at this point, for the Duke of Windsor had recently been appointed to the governorship of the Bahamas, and friends of Beryl’s who were going to Nassau for a holiday in the spring of 1941, learning of her friendship with the former king, invited her to join them.
In March 1941 Beryl travelled to the Bahamas by way of New York, where she met publisher Lee Barker of Houghton Mifflin. Barker told her that he was certainly very interested in the outline for the proposed memoir which the literary agent (Ann Watkins) had shown him, but he needed to see a chapter or two before he could offer her a contract. Beryl had already left two chapters with Ann Watkins for appraisal, and prior to her departure for Nassau, she arranged for these to be forwarded to Houghton Mifflin.
Beryl’s friends had rented a property called The Retreat at Nassau, and the long lazy days of sun worship and swimming in the warm blue sea off white beaches were punctuated by Beryl tapping away on a portable typewriter in the corner of a shady veranda.31
It is known that Beryl re-established contact with the Duke of Windsor whilst she was on the islands. The extent of their friendship is not known, but Beryl certainly visited Government House on a number of occasions and she could also remember dining with the duke and duchess.32 It is not unlikely that in Beryl the duke saw a charming reminder of happier times, and, in her concern for him, Wallis too made her welcome often at Government House. The couple’s situation was anything but an idyllic sinecure.
The duke’s appointment as Governor of the Bahamas was an unprecedented and extraordinary solution to a bizarre problem. No member of the British royal family had ever served as governor of a crown colony. This would have been quite unthinkable, for the royal family were constitutionally required to remain totally aloof from political alliance and any controversy. Furthermore at that time the royal family were not accustomed to expect public criticism nor to have to reply to such. As governor, the duke had to face all these ills and was responsible to the Colonial Office for the running of the colony. It was an intolerable situation for a man who had been groomed for the supreme role of constitutional monarch, but he took it on, undoubtedly fully aware that it was the best he could hope for, and hopeful that it might form a stepping stone to better things after the war. As governor he was held to be popular among the white population (for his presence attracted a great number of American tourists), and among the islanders who referred to him as ‘de King’.33
He had, at least, the help and support of the woman he loved, and this help was not inconsiderable. HRH had arrived to take up his post in August 1940 (a month of ‘searing humidity and mind-destroying temperatures),34 and for a while the duke and duchess were brittle and understandably cautious about striking up friendships. But by the time Beryl arrived the initial nervousness had worn off and the duchess was accustomed to entertain often. With her quick, bright energy she had transformed the formerly gloomy residence, overfilled with heavy late-Victorian mahogany pieces, to a bright and comfortable, well-furnished home filled with light and flowers.35
The duke’s aide, Gray Phillips, was a close ally of the duchess and he also became a friend of Beryl during her stay in Nassau.36 Six and a half feet tall, the Old Etonian classics scholar was charming, resourceful and witty. A bachelor with a strong artistic streak, he was Beryl’s dinner partner on several occasions at Government House and elsewhere. The duchess’s dinners were said to be extremely amusing for she was very clever and funny and tried always to ensure that her guests were equally entertaining.37
By the end of June Beryl had sent four batches of typewritten manuscript to her publishers in Boston, totalling 110 pages. On 26 June 1941 the following internal memorandum was sent by Houghton Mifflin executive Paul Brooks in Boston:
Mr LeBaron R. Barker
New York Office,
Dear Lee:
Bob entirely shares my enthusiasm for Beryl Markham’s project. He says: ‘This is first-rate stuff and I’m all for publishing it.’ I gather from you that there is no need to make a contract now, but I think you’re safe in giving her a good deal of encouragement. Meanwhile I look forward to seeing the new chapters that you told me are on the way. May we keep the manuscript for the time being?
Yours
PB38
The reply to this reads:
Dear Paul
Here’s a letter from Beryl Markham which pretty well sews up the manuscript. At the same time, as soon as you reach a decision the better. I should advise a small advance on signing and an additional amount on completion: something like $250 and $250. Note the reference to 110 pages and to a brief outline. Is this all on hand at Boston?
As ever
Lee39
The memorandum was accompanied by the following letter from Beryl:
‘The Retreat’
Nassau, Bahamas
29th June 1941
Lee Barker Esq.
Houghton Mifflin Co.
New York City
; Dear Lee:
It was indeed a great pleasure to hear from you. Having had to move from place to place and work hard at the same time, it made me very happy to know that you like what you have seen of my book.
The fourth, not the second batch of material went to Ann Watkins some time ago – the whole totalling one hundred and ten pages. Have you read this last bit?
As to where I expect to finish it, my preference would be somewhere in New York State or Connecticut. On the other hand, I came here only because of the Sterling Area – and can get no part of my very meagre income (now horribly reduced by war taxes) into the States. I must therefore make the best deal I can on the book (the sooner the better) but naturally you would have first crack at it without even asking! You have been so very helpful and believe me, I appreciate it. I certainly promise you that I will accept no other offer without getting in touch with you first.
The weather is due to be unbearable in about two weeks and all my friends are leaving, and so I can’t help hoping that some kind soul will give me a contract before the heat wave falls! Luckily, I have my re-entry permit and am still on the quota.
In the mean time the work goes on day by day and will be shipped to New York as long as the postage holds out!
Kindest regards
Beryl40
The series of letters went on:
‘The Retreat’
Nassau, Bahamas
July 23rd 1941
Dear Lee,
Very many thanks for your encouraging letter. The contract arrived the other day; I signed it and sent it off to my Attorney in New York with instructions to hand it over to Ann Watkins, she must have it by now. My Attorney Eddie Eagan, takes care of everything for me in the States. I was not concerned about your company’s part of the contract, but since I have never had a working arrangement with Ann Watkins, as to commission, I thought Eagan might take a look at it, though I know the normal rate is ten percent.
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