by Noel Coward
If Cochran flinched when he received it, there is no record of the fact, and the amazing thing is that when the show opened—a mere four months later—most of Noël's requests had been met.
All summer Noël and Gladys worked intensively at Goldenhurst—he with the book, she with the twenty-two different sets and the hundreds of costumes involved.
Cavalcade, as Noël envisaged it, would be a series of set pieces from British history from 1899, the year of his birth, to the present. The tableaux, so to speak, would be linked by the “Upstairs-Downstairs” stories of two families—the Marryots and their servants, the Bridges— during that period.
Current events came to Noël's accidental aid once the piece was written. There was no way during its composition for him to know that the first night, October 13, would coincide with a major economic and political crisis as the country had to come off the gold standard, an accepted symbol of national stability. An election had been called, and only a few days after the opening the Labour government was dramatically turned out of office (56—558 seats) in favor of a National coalition government led by Ramsay MacDonald. All of these issues were in the forefront of the audience's mind as they watched the story of their island race unfold on the massive Drury Lane stage.
Critical reaction to the play was unanimously positive, but what was even more impressive was the reaction of individual members of the audience. So many of them felt compelled to write to Noël to tell him how they felt that the Coward Archive contains a separate and substantial file entirely devoted to Cavalcade,
There were those who wrote of the sheer emotion they had experienced:
I will only tell you that you have made a very beautiful thing—and that it is a new kind of beauty. Very few people can ever do so much. [Duff Cooper]
I could not cry as I was too deeply stirred!! [Actress Yvonne Arnaud]
I don't think I have ever been so moved over any play in my life. I grisseled [grizzled] all the way through and had a lovely time. [“Boo”—Evelyn Laye]
I hope you were pleased with the reception … I felt that people were too wrought up to make as much noise as they would have liked to have done. An Englishman can't really applaud if he has tears in his eyes at the same time.
Before going to Cavalcade last night I was 34 years old—and now having lived 30 years in a flash I suppose I am 64! Which isn't very nice, is it? Or is it? … Please don't think me too dotty, but I had to retire to the lulu to remake my face after the Armistice scene and the old lady in charge told me pathetically that she didn't suppose she would ever have a chance of seeing the show—could you possibly do anything about it? Even if you have to take charge of the lulu yourself for the evening?!! [Lady Sheila Millbanke]
The resurrection of national pride was a recurring theme:
… the good it will do to the nation—“ if the nation has eyes to see!” [Lord Baden Powell]
A comment that must have particularly pleased Noël came from George Bernard Shaw, who was now taking the “young author” seriously:
Noël Coward will survive in history. With Cavalcade alone he did more for Britain than all the generals at Waterloo.
It produces a complete jumble of emotions—There is the experience with its implications recaptured, the vague melancholy of its emotions, the regret for the things that have dropped out with it, the current sense of what has happened meanwhile, and the consciousness of the degree to which one's vision has altered, and that one is looking at it all with a cubist or at any rate an emancipated eye …
One wonders if the blase little Jew who wrote Ecclesiastes, would alter his conclusions or find them justified—Anyway, no one can see Cavalcade without being started on a whole set of questions without answers—so much the most beneficial sort. [Anonymous]
I was deeply impressed, and I think you will understand why. We young persons of 20 are keen to “do our bit” to help England in its troubles, but we don't know how to set about it, and we cannot make our voices heard—we haven't the vote yet. We do appreciate, therefore, a magnificent gesture on the part of someone whose voice will be heard and listened to by thousands.
There were those who saw their own lives reflected, as in a mirror:
If anybody had told me that a play could make me live every moment of my life again, with such absolute clearness, I would have bet him any money that it was impossible. Last night proved how wrong one can be. In three hours I lived my whole life again, in every detail, ever since I can remember anything.
And there were those who were so moved—one way or another—that they simply had to get their feelings off their chests:
It does seem a pity that you should have chosen as representatives of the young people in this country such very second rate and loose-living specimens. I remember when Michael Arlen was asked why he chose to depict such a fast set {The Green Hat), he replied he had never been able to get the entree to County rectories and could only describe the set he knew. Your play would surely have been pleasanter and truer and not lost in power if the young man killed in the war had not brought disgrace on a girl before he fell. So very many decent men were engaged in the War that it was not fair to take a libertine as a representative of a good professional class. Even the lower classes had clean minded heroes in the fighting line who in dying left no stain behind them.
Impresario C. B. Cochran.
And those who never wrote but just had to write:
I was down in London on Saturday on a day excursion to see the Rugby match. We were lucky enough to get seats for that night. At the time I thought eight shillings hefty for the upper circle. That is what stalls cost in Glasgow, where Bitter Sweet was an awful wash-out. Anyway, your show was worth all the money I spent the whole day. It was absolutely great and I've been thinking about it ever since. I'm sorry I can't find words to tell you how perfect it seemed to me. Also I haven't time, as I should hate the family to come in and catch me. I was never a hero-worshiper before.
And several from fellow pros that would have particularly pleased Noël:
Who says the films will beat us? [Sir Cedric Hardwicke]
It moved me deeply and I'll have to confess that I felt pangs of envy, too. Because, though I know I couldn't, still how I wish I could have written such a play. I'm sending you the cleaner's bill for my best white dress, the front of which was polka-dotted with my tears. [Edna Ferber]
I cannot express in words how I felt about the play. It was wonderful to see all the actors then, and know they were all so unanimous in their delight and tribute to you. It must be a thrilling achievement, and I'm sure you're bored with being told so, so no more. [John Gielgud]
Ironically, one of the few dissenting—or at least questioning—voices was that of Noël's own brother, who complained to Violet: “Noël is getting a Cadillac, is he? For all his supposed patriotism, he seems to prefer most American things. I can't think why.” To be fair, Erik Coward's lack of enthusiasm may have been tempered by the fact that “Big Bro” had written to him:
£500 seems rather exorbitant for a car, as it's a good deal more than I paid for my Buick, which I've had for three years—so I am sending you £300 with which I hope you'll buy a more useful car and enjoy it. P.S. I loathe writing letters.
Another critic of Cavalcade was Adolf Hitler. It was reported by the British ambassador in Berlin that the Fiihrer had “laughed himself sick” at the idea of Cavalcade, Had he witnessed an actual performance and the committed reaction of a typical English audience, he might well have reappraised certain psychological elements of his master plan.
•
EVEN THOUGH he might have spoken of it jokingly, in many ways Noël was probably prouder of Cavalcade than of any other single piece of his work. Some years later, at one of those stand-up cocktail parties where one is required to balance a plate in one hand and a cup of tea precariously in another, a waiter hurried up to him with a fork. “How come you get a fork?” a neighboring guest asked. “Well,” Noël replied, �
�I did write Cavalcade.”
Which is why he was so surprised and hurt a decade later when his patriotism was called into question and so much of the public adulation turned to vilification.
•
BY NOVEMBER Noël and Jack have sailed away on another of their marathon adventures—this time to South America. He arrived in Rio to find still more congratulatory mail awaiting him, including a cable from Woollcott:
NOëL COWARD HOTEL CAPOCABAN [Copacabana] RIO
ALL THE CAVALCADE NEWS DELIGHTS ME IF YOU ACCEPT A KNIGHTHOOD NOW I SHALL BE FEARFULLY VEXED STOP ALEXANDER WOOLLCOTT
Designer Gladys Calthrop.
Rio was hectic, and Noël had no time to write to Violet again until they reached the comparative peace of Sao Paulo:
Esplanada Hotel
Sao Paulo
Sunday, December 6th
Darlingest,
Well, we've got away from Rio at last. It was difficult to leave because we were having such fun. We made a striking exit—and had to jump into the train while it was going. Crowds came down to see us off and it was all very funny.
We are staying here until Wednesday when we're embarking on a lovely trip into the jungle. We travel for two days by train and then go in a special boat down the Parana River which takes a week.
We are really going with the object of filming the Igayu [Iguassu] Falls. Then we go on by train to Buenos Aires.
Oh Dear, Oh Dear, I'd almost forgotten.
A HAPPY XMAS There.
Your sincere son
NOËL PEIRCE [correctly spelled this time]COWARD
Plaza Hotel
Buenos Aires
Friday December 25 th
Darlingest,
I haven't written for two weeks because arriving here was very hectic. We had a marvellous expedition. We were the guests of a Mate (sort of tea company) …
We had a special car on the train from Sao Paulo, hitched onto the end of the train, we travelled for three days in it and then arrived at the Parana River where we got on a very peculiar boat and drifted down to a place called Guayra. It was really very interesting because only very few white people have ever made that trip, the jungle on each side of the river is absolutely virgin forest, and quite terrifying. You can't walk more than a few yards and it's filled with snakes and orchids and parrots, etc., and it stretches on the right side for almost two thousand miles!
There was nowhere to spend the night except on board an ancient long-discarded pleasure steamer which had a sinister Outward Bound atmosphere and contained a few cockroach-infested cabins, a vast dark dining saloon and a mad steward dressed in a grayish-white bumfreezer, ominously stained blue trousers and multi-coloured carpet slippers. He had two complete rows of brilliantly gold teeth and, as it was his habit to go into gales of high-pitched laughter whenever we asked him for anything, we were almost blinded. Apart from him and us and the cockroaches, the only other living creature on board that macabre vessel was an incredibly old mongrel which had no teeth at all, gold or otherwise. Its name was Peppo. The food needless to say was disgusting … After our nasty meal we sat out on the deck listening to the river muttering by and chainsmoking cigarettes to discourage the insects. Later on in the evening Peppo made a determined effort to get into bed with me but I succeeded in repelling his advances and he finally retired, wheezing down the dark corridor.
We went on for days down river to the Igayu [Iguassu] Falls which are immense and twice as big as Niagara, very very beautiful. Then on for days and days, changing boats all the time, until we arrived here. The last boat was very grand and the beast of a Captain refused to allow us to come on deck or have meals in the dining room because we were not suitably dressed (Riding things). He actually sent for the Police to put us off which they refused to do. So we were sent below where we remained for two days. All the first class passengers were delighted with themselves. We remained quite happily below and gave a cocktail party to all the stewards! Then on the morning we arrived, we stepped off the boat exquisitely dressed, were met by a very grand car and several commissionaires etc., we cut the Captain and shook hands with all the stewards. There has been the most awful row about it, all the Directors of the line have apologised and the Papers have been full of it. I almost feel sorry for the Captain now! The first class passengers’ faces were a study when we left the boat. I said very loudly in Spanish to the Head Steward that we had enjoyed the journey very much and infinitely preferred being with the real gentlemen below, than the pretentious plebians above!
All my love and hugs, darlingest.
SNOOP
This doesn't really feel very much like Christmas Day, although it isn't as hot here as in Rio.
Nahuel Huapi
Patagonia
January 15 th 1932
Well Darling,
Here we are in the loveliest place I've yet seen. This is an estancia right up in the mountains on the borders of Chile. It took three days to get here from Buenos Aires. The most awful journey across the plains with dust an inch thick over everything, then five hours driving in a car, but when you get here it's certainly worth it. Nahuel Huapi is an enormous lake surrounded by snow-capped mountains and absolutely wild … It is quite cold even tho’ it is the height of summer now, and we actually sit round a fire after dinner. In the winter (July and August) no one comes here much because it is completely snowed under! We leave on Sunday and go on into Chile, we travel by boats along the different lakes, and then ox cart and then mules until after a few days we arrive at Puerto Moutt on the Pacific coast where we get a train to Valparaiso. The only people who have done this particular journey are General Pershing, the Princes [the Prince of Wales and Prince George], and us, so we're in good company!
With Noël en route for his South American safari, agent Fanny Holtz-mann managed to persuade Fox to make the movie version of Cavalcade, but time was of the essence. Could she have a copy of the script to send them? Strangely, Cochran didn't have one, and Lorn reported that there was only one complete script in existence and Master had taken that with him, presumably to “make revisions”: “So our precious property is somewhere between here and Valparaiso. I've sent Noël a cable.”
Cavalcade, the film (1932). The two upstairs/downstairs families.
Jane (Diana Wynyard) and Robert (Clive Brook) Marryot
{center), flanked by Albert (Herbert Mundin) Bridges and
Ellen (Una O'Connor). The film won the Oscar for that year.
Somehow she located him and he cabled back:
THE WOMAN IS THE WONDER WORKER OF THE AGES STOP SCRIPT WILL WING ITS WAY TO YOU FROM CHILE STOP DO NOT CARE WHAT HAPPENS BETWEEN SCRIPT AND SCREEN STOP YOU MAY CHANGE IT TO BLEAK HOUSE AS LONG AS MY NAME IS SPELLED CORRECTLY ON THE CHEQUE STOP MASTER
He found Fanny's ail-American aggression a little hard to take and would continue to do so, but on this occasion he was grateful for it and cabled 1 FORGIVE YOU.
British Embassy
Santiago
Chile
January 26th
Hallo Darling,
Here we are in Chile and very lovely it is too. This town is set in a valley high up in the Andes and down each street you see enormous mountains stretching up to the sky. In the winter they're covered in snow but now they're brown and purple.
We leave on Monday on a small cargo boat for Mollendo and from there we go right up to Ariguipa and La Paz and Cuzco to see all the Inca and Maya ruins then we go to Lima.
How horrid about poor little Nuts [their dog], I'm dreadfully worried about Coco, he will miss him so awfully. We must buy heaps more dogs the moment I return so that there will always be a lot left when any of them die! I know you won't approve but you're only a very stupid dolt and your opinion won't even be asked!!!
All love and hugs
SNOOPIE
Country Club
Lima
Sunday 21st February
Darling,
I arrived here and found a whole bundle of letters
from you and one from Veitch. I love the snapshots of you bouncing along the promenade, very rich in your fur coats. I haven't had any letter from Erik yet but when I get to California I'll do something about the car proposition …
I'm so pleased about the ear trumpet [Violet was getting increasingly deaf], I shall be able to throw salted almonds into it from my end of the table. Oh Dear, Oh Dear, I'm actually quite tired of travelling for the moment, we've been going so very hard just lately. We went from La Paz to Cuzco, right across Lake Titicaca, the most lovely scenery. Cuzco is where the Incas had such a delightful time and it really isn't very central but undeniably beautiful. It took us two full days to get there. We went the first part of the way in the President's private car (on the train). He was going to meet his wife at Mollendo. At every stop thousands of officers and Lord Mayors and Indian Chiefs appeared and bowed and scraped and were very funny indeed.
We came back from Cuzco by auto-cavil carvil which is a motor car fixed to the railway line, in this we drove for sixteen hours, right over the highest point of the Andes, about 17,000 feet! It was a strange and very beautiful journey and we arrived at Araguipa [Are-quipa] at 2:30 in the morning.
We stayed in Areguipa at the Quinta Bates, which is a rambling Pension kept by an old American woman who is a darling. She waited up for us and gave us tea and hot water bottles and generally treated us like children. We had a lovely week with her and completely relaxed.
Yesterday we flew here and once more we're in the tropics, thank God, I'm so sick of high altitudes and cold. On Wednesday we sail for Panama and Jeff I think goes straight back to England while I go beetling up the coast to meet Jack who will come from New York, probably to San Diego. There's a revolution on here but we haven't seen anything of it as we're outside the Town. Goodbye my duck I'll write again from Panama.