by Noel Coward
Now then, in future I am determined to know a great deal more about my business affairs, however much time it takes and however much it bores me. I still find it strange that after so many years of hard work I have so pitifully little money. I want a full and accurate statement of everything concerned with my finances since 1925.
I only wish to make one thing absolutely clear to you, that in future in no circumstances whatsoever must any of my financial affairs be even remotely suspect … I am bitterly ashamed that they ever have been, not only from the point of view of my position and reputation but from the point of view of my inside conscience. I would infinitely rather descend into my grave poverty stricken but honest (which seems extremely likely) than rich as Croesus and dishonest. This may sound noble and high-flown but it happens to be sincere. Now please think deeply and carefully over all that I have said. It is of vital importance to us all.
When he belatedly replied, Jack appeared to shrug off any suggestion that he personally was in any way to blame, which only sharpened Noël's sense of having been badly served.
A puzzling coda occurred years later. In a letter to Lornie (September 9, 1947), written from New York, Noël reports:
I had dinner with Little Bill and he very emphatically warned me not to go back to England without leaving myself a concrete reason for getting out again. Big Bill Donovan was also there and apparently has great pull with dear Dr. Dalton [at the time Chancellor of the Exchequer] and I think will do something about it for me. It really is very curious for an eminent and frightfully pretty Englishman to have to solicit help from an American in order to prevent himself being imprisoned in his own country! I shall come back in October whatever happens but really it is all a grave mess and in the worst possible taste and I am as cross as two sticks. Freedom, my arse, is what I say to myself over and over again.
Precisely who and what Stephenson feared for on Noël's behalf was never referred to again, but clearly neither he nor Donovan was the kind of man to jump at shadows. They had reason to believe that there were those in the United Kingdom with long memories and long knives probably connected to the currency restrictions that were still very much in force.
The whole episode convinced Noël of two things. The first was that, while he undoubtedly had powerful enemies in high places, he must also have equally powerful friends, unwilling to declare themselves publicly but pressing for leniency in what was obviously a “political” case. His main concern was that the publicity might have a negative effect on the film, which he had yet to start in earnest. For once his guardian angels were on duty for him. It did not.
The second was the unpleasant realization that he must keep a closer watch on Jack's financial management. It was the crystallization of a feeling that had been nagging him for some time now.
The third issue was a family matter. In August 1940, Noël had brought Violet and Auntie Vida over to New York to protect them from the bombing. It was not the easiest thing to achieve, as passages on transatlantic ships in wartime were almost impossible to obtain. He put them up initially in his own East Side apartment, then transferred them to an apartment of their own. Before long, Vida decided to return to face whatever Mr. Hitler decided to throw her way. She bought her own passage back. For her, a return was preferable to facing her sister day in, day out.
Violet Coward was not a happy woman and, as ever, her letters betrayed the fact. Left to her own devices—and despite round-the-clock attention from Noël's friends:
I joined the party at Sardi's. I was the guest of honour and they made a great fuss of me … Francis Lederer rushed across the room and hugged and kissed me and John [Latouche] pretended to be dreadfully jealous—all v. amusing. John kept saying he loved me for myself and not because of you!
… she still found much to complain about:
I have been reading your diary. It has told me so much of your life that I knew nothing of… but it depressed me to think of all you had done for the hopelessly muddled Government. You and I don't see eye to eye in some things. No one loves England more than I do, but if I were a man I should refuse to fight … I simply would not give my life up for such awful muddlers. I feel simply awful about it all. I hate this beastly war and all the emotional tomfoolery about fighting for your country, etc., etc. The Army fight because they are well paid, the Officers because it is a good profession with fairly good pay and the hope of pushing others down and getting to the top of power … I hate it, hate it all.
You, who have really given up so much for your country, they shove you into Court and fine you for a mistake, when you lavished all the money. Do you think for one moment any of those in high places would have allowed you to get a foot in? However clever your suggestions and superior your work, they were too afraid to let you gain an inch … They don't want brains. They send fools out here who get egg and tomatoes thrown at them. Oh, dear, what don't they do that isn't idiotic, except from their own point of view? For God's sake don't do any more in the way of politics, darling. Think and look after yourself a little more … Oh dear, I don't know whether to send all this or tear it up, anyhow you can do that. I feel so furious sometimes, darling. I would love to put the lot of them up against the wall and shoot them all. The censors will have something to read if they open this!
I hope the film is going well, and that you may be allowed to have the honour of impersonating a Capt. in the Navy. Please don't overwork yourself at this film. You are not as strong as you pretend to be.
Goodnight, old dearest darling,
All love and hugs
Snig
I so long to see you again. My heart just aches for you.
Noël replied:
December 3rd, 1941
Darlingest,
I've just had a very long letter from you all about the first night and how lovely it was and your gay carryings-on at Sardi's and the Barberry Room.
Now then, Darling, I've got to speak very firmly to you. You don't seem to realise why I have done what I have done since the War began. The reason for me wishing to do all I can for my country has nothing to do with governments. One of the privileges which we are fighting for is to be able to grumble about our governments as much as we like. Of course they have behaved very badly to me … they behaved very badly to Winston Churchill for seven years … but that is not the point. I am working for the country itself and the ordinary people that belong to it. If you had been here during some of the bad blitzes and seen what I have seen and if you had been with the Navy as much as I have you would understand better what I mean. The reason that I didn't come back to America was that in this moment of crisis I wanted to be here experiencing what all the people I know and all the millions of people I don't know are experiencing. This is because I happen to be English and Scots and I happen to believe and know that, if I ran away and refused to have anything to do with the War and lived comfortably in Hollywood, as so many of my actor friends have done, I should be ashamed to the end of my days. The qualities which have made me a success in life are entirely British. Cavalcade, Bitter Sweet, Hay Fever, everything I've ever written could never have been written by anybody but an Englishman.
Oddly enough, the people here are proud of me too. I have had thousands of letters, not only from friends but from strangers all over the country, sympathising with me over my case. The very fact that in the middle of the War there should have been headlines about it on the front page of every paper proves my fame in this country. Of course I have been very unhappy from time to time when people said beastly things about me and the Press attacked me but that is one of the penalties I must pay for having achieved the position I have. The English, in their own muddled way, considered that freedom of speech and thought and faith was something worth fighting for and dying for if necessary. I have never in my own personal struggles given way to superior force or to my enemies and I see no reason to start doing so now, either in my own cause or a National one. You must have been talking to a lot of very silly people i
f you imagine that the British fighting services are fighting for the pay they get. A sailor gets about fourteen shillings a week and a private in the Army seventeen and six … and a wife's allowance is twenty-six shillings a week. But for the gallantry and ideals of the fighting services there would be no England for you to come home to and no ship to bring you. I cannot feel that dying for one's country or for what one believes in is any worse than dying in bed of an illness. We all have to die sometime and if I had to die tomorrow at least I have had a magnificent run for my money. I should feel myself to be very unworthy of the traditions I come from if I allowed the malice and envy of a handful of journalists and pompous government officials to deflect me from my course for one instant. The Australian visit was one of the most thrilling, heartwarming, and exciting experiences of my life although it was hard work and whatever personal discouragements I may have had, not only since the War but during my whole life, have merely gone to enrich my talent.
Now then, the point of all this is that the only place in which you are entitled to grumble about England is in England itself and you must NEVER, while you are in America, speak against this country or even against the Government which is apparently doing its not very inspired best, because if you do you are letting me down very badly. I feel very ashamed of many of the people I know in America for their attitude over this War. It is their War as much as ours and they have allowed us to fight it for them for over two years. It was their muddles just as well as ours that brought it about and so please don't allow yourself, just because you are incensed by the way a few silly people have treated your ewe lamb, to forget that that same ewe lamb is very much loved in this country and by the great mass of the public and accepted and adopted as a distinguished friend by the whole of the Navy. This is no small achievement and if I didn't feel that in every way I was doing my best to help in what they are fighting for I would never forgive myself and would probably never write another good play in my life. You are very naughty indeed to have written those things and much naughtier to have thought them for a moment. I have inherited my fighting spirit from you, so it's all your fault anyway … in fact I wouldn't be surprised if you are not responsible for the whole War and it's only a matter of time before Hitler and his hordes join hands with Mrs. Tonge, Betty Hammond, Auntie Ida (at moments Auntie Vida) and other oppressed peoples to encircle you with an extremely nasty pincer movement!!
Now, having got that off my chest, the film is going along beautifully and I think it is the best thing I have written since Cavalcade, We don't actually start the shooting of it until 15th January but I really think it is going to be lovely. Of course, I'm thrilled about the success of Blithe Spirit and have read all the notices. It is still playing to wonderful business here. We are all well and everybody sends you their love. Give my dearest love to anybody who would care for it and tell them from me that England may be a very small island, vastly over-crowded, frequently badly managed but very much the best and bravest in the World.
Love and hugs to you, you wicked girl.
By the time Violet received the letter the Japanese had attacked Pearl Harbor and America was in the war.
450 East 52nd St.
January 21st 1942
I had decided not to answer your unkind letter, which made me ill. It was so unnecessary.
Lillian thought I was fretting to get home and I did not give you away. I could not have let her know that you had written me like that. The thing that hurt most was your saying that by discussing the war with my silly friends, I was letting you down badly. I have never discussed the war with anybody. But even if I did, I don't think what I said could hurt your prestige with the American public. I had been looking at your diary and felt miserable to think they should discuss your name in England after all you had done.
Next, you neglected me for months, because you had no time to write and then found time to type pages of a pompous lecture at me. How dared you! Hitler is not governing us yet and I have as much right to my opinions as you have even if you have spent so much time in the Navy … This letter will doubtless be torn to shreds like all my letters have always been by your immediate circle but I must keep up my reputation for being the “wicked old woman” you have always called me.
Please don't bother about my coming home. It is impossible anyhow and I don't much mind. I forgive you for making me so unhappy. It is passing and I shall soon get my spirits back and have no regrets. I can't always be miserable and shall probably survive all this beastly war and come back with a few more wrinkles and probably using a stick but as wicked as ever, I expect.
9 years ago today my Erik died. What a tragedy! I feel so very far away and so alone.
Love
SNIG
In a later letter (March 3):
Darlingest,
I had a lovely letter from you, written of course before you got my answer to your Dec. 3rd lecture letter! But I am taking it as being written after because I can't bear all this horror any longer and I have drawn down a shutter on the past. I am not going to think any more about my enemies or what anybody thinks about me. I can't be all bad and I have had a very rotten time but as in the nature of things I cannot have many years longer to live in this beastly world [she was seventy-eight]. I can't afford to throw away the only thing in it that is worth having and that is you and your love. So let's forget everything horrid from now on.
I have unpacked my boxes for the 3rd or 4th time and will try to be as happy as I can in luxurious New York until it is easier to get back. [She had tried several times to get a passage on a ship but had always been turned back in favor of passengers with genuine priorities.] I am trying not to bother about going home. After all, this war must end some day and if I am destined to end my career out here, well, that's that.
The river is so busy. Even destroyers and airplanes pass by, so big they block out the windows. There is a constant stream of traffic, day and night.
Write me soon, please. I shall write to you every week for the future.
Your Snig
In later letters she clearly felt it was time she paid more attention to Noël's life:
May 1 st
I wrote you a grouchy letter yesterday and so I am writing again, as I fear it may have upset you …
I really think Vida is much happier living alone and is very fond of being boss! And she is very comfortable and contented. I like being alone, too! So the thing is for me to be contented here and patient. I really have lots to reassure me and time never hangs on my hands but your being in London is at the back of my mind all the time.
Cover of New York program for Blithe Spirit.
When I think of what you must have gone through when you got to Bermuda, my blood boils and my heart aches too for you, my poor old darling. I wonder and wonder how it came about, who did it and what are you doing about it. Of course it is impossible (for you) to write about it …
Meanwhile, Noël was pulling every string he could lay his hands on and finally managed to get her on an August plane home via Shannon. “I feel as bright as a button!” Violet wrote when she heard the news. “Or six buttons!”
•
THE WAR DID NOT entirely overshadow Noël's theatrical career. On November 4 Jack Wilson was to present the New York production of Blithe Spirit at the Morosco Theatre. Whom should they cast? Jack wrote:
10 Rockefeller
Plaza New York
June 9th
Dearest Poppa,
Alfred, of course, springs to mind … He called me up last night and they are crazy about the play, as I thought they would be, in fact even more so than I expected and Alfred was very tempted with the man's part. She felt, however, that the woman's part, whichever of the two she chose, was not good enough for her. I am not disappointed, as I never thought for a moment that they would do it.
Noël sent the following advice:
As far as the New York company of Blithe Spirit goes I think Leonora [Corbett] will be fine. Gladys Coope
r I am frightened of, because she is frightfully bad at learning words and it is a very long part needing the utmost precision. Clifton [Webb] I feel sure will be the best bet. He is a beautiful comedian and the slight hint of preciousness won't matter and I think he will give it distinction. I have a feeling Edna May Oliver will be superb as long as she does not overplay. I am sure that Edna Best would be good as Ruth but a little lacking in attack and I think on the whole, if you could bear it, Peggy [Wood] would be the best. We know what a good actress she is and she really has got drive. If I can't get over, you shall have a complete detailed script with every move marked and extra bits of business and cuts. I would rather you directed it than anybody else. I have implicit faith in your taste and discretion.
Noël and Clifton Webb (1893-1966). A couple of song-and-dance men from the 1920s who later turned “legit.” Webb played “Noël” in the Broadway productions of both Blithe Spirit (1941) and Present Laughter (1946).
The final casting was Clifton Webb (Charles), Peggy Wood (Ruth), Leonora Corbett (Elvira), and Mildred Natwick (Madame Arcati). From the outset there were tantrums about billing and dressing rooms, which kept Jack, who was now to direct, in a perpetual spin. And since the show was a Transatlantic Production, he also had his two other partners, Alfred and Lynn, to contend with.
10.6.41
Lynn came the other afternoon for two acts and was very sweet. She was fullsome in her praise of me (which I presume, nay suspect, was politeness), was very pleased with Clifford [Clifton] indeed, and almost a little too keen about la Bois [Wood]. She made the suggestion that the scenes between those two should be of great tenderness and soul searching beauty and indicate a deep and resounding love. In other words, a little kiss in the first scene should be square on the lips, etc., etc. I am afraid I don't see that angle of playing it at all and must disregard her advice. She then went off the deep end about a very competent and ordinary actress playing Mrs. Bradman, called Phyllis Joyce, who she thought practically the new [Eleonora] Duse. She finds Natwick too frail, but when I tell you that her idea of perfect casting is either Ethel Barrymore or Sybil Thorndike, I think you can see what I mean when I said, as above, that Natwick from the balance angle will probably prove the best. She said it was a great role which should be played with greatness. I still maintain that, if it were, there wouldn't be any play and it would be Cornelia Otis Skinner doing The Wives of Henry the Eighth, The one she absolutely loathes and detests is the remaining member of the cast [Corbett]. She thought her inadequate, ugly, uninteresting, common, and can't imagine how you or I could have possibly thought her anything else under any conditions. She even went so far as to say that if we would have allowed her, she would have played the part herself, which I know darn well is not true, but when I told her so she countered by saying the only reason she had not was because you insulted her by offering her Ruth; she was very offended that you thought she was right for that part. All this, of course, is mere talk and doesn't mean a thing.