by Anne Edwards
On July 2 she wrote a more proper letter:
My darling— I am so silly and outraged to the eyeballs these days—I cannot remember whether I answered your angelic cable. Isn’t this a fair beast? So unexpected, too. Everyone has been angelic. The play is only postponed, not cancelled. I study it all the time in the hope I might understand it all one day. Forgive this more than usual dreadful handwriting, but the drugs they give me make me sillier than ever. Needless to say, I am far more worried about Larry. He writes me a lot but I think he is going through hell. Noël is here, which is a joy. Jack has made a whacking success in The Last of Mrs. Cheyney at Guildford. They soon come into the Phoenix. (He seems rather pleased with himself—for him!) My love to you both my darling Cindy— Vivien.
That week she seemed to improve and everyone was heartened. Olivier was recuperating quite satisfactorily from surgery. Jack was still in Guildford, and he rang every night from his dressing room before going on stage. On Friday, July 7, when he rang as usual, Vivien sounded very sleepy and her speech somewhat slurred. Deeply concerned, Jack drove back from Guildford directly after the show, arriving at the flat at ten past eleven. When he peeped into Vivien’s room he saw that she was sound asleep—Poo Jones on the bed beside her. There were flowers on her desk—late peonies flown in from Holland—and a neat stack of letters and cables from friends from all over the world wishing her well. Her bed linens looked fresh, and there was no sign of soiled clothes or handkerchiefs. The scent of her favorite perfume, Joy, filled the air. There was, in fact, nothing medicinal in the room except the bedside tray with its many pill bottles placed carefully so that they were almost completely hidden by the same picture of Larry that had always been by her bedside—Larry when he was young and beautiful, the Olivier Jack remembered as Romeo and the Larry Vivien knew in her heart no other woman would ever possess.
Jack quietly closed the door and went into the kitchen to make himself something to eat. Fifteen minutes later he returned to check if Vivien was still sleeping. When he opened the door, to his horror he found her lying on the floor, face down. His immediate reaction was that she had stumbled while trying to reach the door. The doctor had warned her not to get up if she was alone, and Jack had in the past few weeks found her uneasy and uncertain on her feet as she watered plants in the sitting room. He ran to her and started to lift her up. Her body was warm, but she was not breathing. Kneeling over her, he desperately tried mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. But his frantic efforts were to no avail. She had obviously awakened and been overcome with a choking spasm, reached for the thermos on the nightstand to pour herself a glass of water, and knocked it over. She had struggled to her feet and staggered toward the door of her bedroom. A viselike feeling of claustrophobia must have overwhelmed her. She could not know at that moment that her lungs had filled with fluid and that she was drowning in her own liquid. No one had told her that was how the end might be, that tuberculosis often claimed its victims in that way.
Jack lifted her frail form from the floor and gently placed her on the bed. Poo Jones cried from beneath the bed, and Jack, fighting for his own control, rang the doctor and told him to come right over. Then he rang Bumble, Alan Webb, and Peter Hiley, an old friend who had been with them on the Australian tour. Bumble and Webb arrived only a short time after the doctor had declared her legally dead. Bumble spent the night on the living-room sofa so that Jack would not be left alone with Vivien’s body. The next morning Gertrude, Suzanne, Leigh, and Larry were notified. Larry, still in the hospital, got straight out of his bed and came directly to the flat, where he remained with Jack for the entire day, not leaving until Vivien’s body had been removed.
To Gertrude’s horror, Vivien’s will specified cremation, meaning a Catholic burial was out of the question; but she did accompany Jack down to the country to stand by as he carried out Vivien’s last wish— that her ashes be scattered over the lake at Tickerage.
All Vivien’s friends were stunned by her death. It was inconceivable to believe that her warm, humorous letters would no longer cross the Atlantic, that her merry laugh had been stilled. The gift-giving had not stopped with her death, for her will carried bequests to each and every friend. It seemed no one was forgotten. To Cindy she had written the year before, “I have just made out my will and given all the things I have and many that I haven’t.” But she was richer than anyone had thought.
On Tuesday, August 15, 1967, her English friends gathered at the Royal Parish Church of St. Martin-in-the-Fields to pay her tribute. It was as star-studded an audience as Vivien had ever played to. The three men who had loved her—Leigh, Olivier, and Merivale—each sat by himself, each with his own private memories. Readings were given by John Clements, Emlyn Williams, and Rachel Kempson, Lady Redgrave. It was Gielgud who gave the final tribute.
“She will not be forgotten,” Gielgud said, “for her magic quality was unique. A great beauty, a natural star, a consummate screen actress and a versatile and powerful personality in the theatre—she had a range that could stretch from the comedy of Sabina in Skin of Our Teeth to the naturalistic agonies of Blanche DuBois in Streetcar, and the major demands of Lady Macbeth and Cleopatra. Even in Titus Andronicus, when she had only a few short scenes, she contrived the most beautiful pictorial effects. Who can forget the macabre grace with which she guided the staff with her elbows to write in the sand with it, a ravished victim gliding across the stage in her long gray robe. ...”
But in Hollywood memory of Vivien was more vivid and dazzling. To the friends she had there she would always be Scarlett O’Hara. On March 17, 1968, The Friends of the Libraries at U.S.C., who had in previous years honored Aldous Huxley, Somerset Maugham, and Cole Porter, chose to honor the first actress, Vivien Leigh. No Academy Award ceremony ever had a more stellar audience. The Town and Gown dining hall of the university was decorated with three huge blow-ups of Vivien—two as the fiery Scarlett O’Hara and one from her final film, Ship of Fools. No matter where you looked, there was Vivien flashing her green eyes as she smiled that unique and bewitching Cheshire smile that was singularly hers. This night there were no hymns or prayers. A sense of good theatre pervaded the evening, and Vivien would have approved. Those who spoke—Gladys Cooper, Greer Garson, George Cukor, Chester Erskine, Joseph Cotten, Wilfrid Hyde White, Judith Anderson, Walter Matthau, Rod Steiger, Claire Bloom, and Stanley Kramer among them—mainly told anecdotes. Then the lights dimmed and there was Vivien, nineteen and exquisite; Vivien and Olivier, youthful and handsome, in a scene from Fire Over England; Vivien singing and dancing with Charles Laughton in St. Martin’s Lane, and sparring with Lee Marvin in Ship of Fools. The lights came on for a moment.
“And now,” Chester Erskine announced, “the original tests Vivien made for Gone With the Wind.”
The theatre darkened. There was a scratchy sound, a clapboard chalked with “Miss Vivien Leigh—Test—Scarlett O’Hara.” The lighting was poor, the color muddy. Then there she was, holding all her tomorrows in as she caught her breath as Mammy laced up her corset. The head tilted back, there was fire in her eyes, electricity in each movement. There was no doubt why she had been chosen to play Scarlett O’Hara. Vivien was unique. Somehow she had managed to capture life and contain it within herself in such a manner that made her seem invincible.
The lights came up, the audience applauded, they stood and cheered, and then they filed out glancing up at Vivien as she dazzled them from the immense posters.
Acknowledgments
Tennessee Williams says of Vivien, “Having known madness, she knew how it was to be drawing close to death.” Having often been close to death, I might add, gave her a fearlessness, a daring, a sort of insolence toward life, and a kind and tender and incredibly affectionate regard for the living. She was a good deal more than a film star who received two Oscars for two of the most celebrated roles in film history (Scarlett O’Hara and Blanche DuBois), or a stage actress who won acclaim for her Juliet, Antigone, and Cleopatra. Vivien Leigh was a woman o
f great extremes and greater excesses. A woman whose candle surely did burn at both ends, and yet refuses, through the incandescence of her friendships and her film portrayals, even now to be extinguished. I found myself wanting to know why Vivien Leigh would not recognize defeat, why in the face of it she would raise her exquisitely molded chin and stare uncomprehendingly at it with fiery eyes.
I traveled to London, Paris, the South of France, Hollywood, and New York to find that answer. I sat in darkened projection rooms watching almost every foot of film she had shot, spent weeks poring over her private letters and papers, talked to those closest to her and those who only had brushed her life. I walked her school halls, sat in her garden, studied her medical reports. These pages were written fortunately with the cooperation of many wonderful people: first and foremost, Mr. John (Jack) Merivale, who shared the last seven years of her life; Mr. Tarquin Olivier, whose sensitivity and insight were invaluable; Mr, Leigh Holman, her first husband; and Mrs. Suzanne Farrington, her daughter.
I am beholden as well to Doris Nolan and Alexander Knox, Sir John Gielgud, Sir Cecil Beaton, Mr. Elia Kazan, Ms. Maxine Audley, Ms. Maureen O’Sullivan, Mrs. Lucinda Ballard Dietz, Mr. Howard Dietz, Mr. Peter Hiley, Dame Flora Robson, Viscountess Lambert (Patsy Quinn), Mr. Theodore Thaddeus Tenley, Mr. Stanley Kramer, Mr. Arnold Weissberger, Ms. Paula Laurence, Mr. Charles Bowden, Mr. Angus McBean, Ms. Radie Harris, and Mr. Tennessee Williams.
Also, I must again thank Jack Merivale, Leigh Holman, Suzanne Farrington, Sir Cecil Beaton, Lucinda Ballard and Howard Dietz, Tarquin Olivier, Vicountess Lambert, and Dame Flora Robson for contributing photographs from their personal collections for use in this book.
I owe a debt of gratitude as well to the Mother General and the Sisters of the Sacred Heart Convent, Roehampton, the staffs of the British Film Institute, Mr. Steve Rubin and the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, Ms. Martha A. Mahard and the staff of the Harvard Theatre Collection, and the staff of the Lincoln Center Library of the Performing Arts. This book could not have been written without the great enthusiasm of Mr. Michael Korda; the fine editorial help of Ms. Joan Sanger; the encouragement of Ms. Monica McCall; the tremendous help of Mr. Mitchell Douglas and Ms. Marlene Marks, who had the difficult task of transcribing many, many hours of taped interviews; and the invaluable research assistance given by Ms. Marcelle Garfield. I am also most grateful to the many, many others who answered my queries, letters and newspaper advertisements so graciously.
Vivien Leigh molded her life from dream and fantasy, which never contain defeat, lived in the future, where almost anything could happen, and truly believed, like Blanche, that everyone had a right to magic. And magically she lived her life.
Anne Edwards
New York City
July 1976
Chronology
THEATRE CHRONOLOGY
THE GREEN SASH by Debonnaire Sylvester and T. P. Wood
Opened at the Q Theatre, London, February 25, 1935
Produced and directed by Matthew Forsyth
CAST: Vivian Leigh (Giusta), Kathleen Boutall (Piccarda), David Horne (Marco), Margo Hawkins (Simonetta), Marion Fawcett (Amalia), Eric Berry (Giovanni di Campiglione), Tristram Butt (Ugoline), Douglas Vigor (Niccolo Niccoli), Eward Dudgeon (Gregorio), Ashton Pearse (Franco)
THE MASK OF VIRTUE by Carl Sternheim (English version by Ashley Dukes)
Opened at the Ambassadors’ Theatre, London, May 15, 1935
Presented by Sydney W. Carroll
Directed by Maxwell Wray
CAST: Vivien Leigh (Henriette Duquesnoy), Jeanne de Casalis (Mme de Pommeraye), Frank Cellier (Marquis d’Arcy), Viola Tree (Mme Duquesnoy), Douglas Matthews (Footman), Jenny Barclay, Adeline Hook, Olive Hinton, Antonia Brough (Maids)
Moved to the St. James’s Theatre May 29, 1935
RICHARD II by Shakespeare
Opened at Oxford (OUDS), February 17, 1936
Directed by John Gielgud and Glen Byam Shaw
CAST: Vivien Leigh (Queen), David King-Wood (King Richard), Florence Kahn (Duchess of Gloucester), Helen MacInnes (Duchess of York), Michael Denison (Lord Fitzwater), remainder of cast were students
THE HAPPY HYPOCRITE by Clemence Dane, from a story by Max Beerbohm, music by Richard Addinsell
Opened at His Majesty’s Theatre, London, April 8, 1936
Directed by Maurice Colbourne
CAST: Vivien Leigh (Jenny Mere), Ivor Novello (Lord George Hell), Viola Tree (Lady Otterton), Carl Harbord (Mercury), Philip Disborough (Sir Follard), Charles Lefeaux (Beau Brummell), Isabel Jeans (La Gambori), Marius Goring (Amor), Ffwlass Llewellyn (Bishop of St. Aldred’s), William Dewhurst (Garble), Stafford Hilliard (Mr. Aeneas)
HENRY VIII by Shakespeare
Opened at the Open Air Theatre, Regent’s Park, London, June 22, 1936
Presented by Sydney Carroll
Directed by Robert Atkins
CAST: Vivien Leigh (Anne Boleyn), Gyles Isham (Duke of Buckingham), C. N. Anson (Campelus), Lyn Harding (King), Baliol Holloway (Wolsey), Lawrence Baskcomb (Lord Chamberlain), Ion Swinley (Earl of Surrey), Franklyn Kelsey (Griffiths), Phyllis Neilson-Terry (Queen), Hilda Trevllyan (Old Lady)
BECAUSE WE MUST by Ingaret Giffard
Opened at Wyndham’s Theatre, London, February 5, 1937
Directed by Norman Marshall
CAST: Vivien Leigh (Pamela Golding-Ffrench), Margaret Emden (Mrs. Golding-Ffrench), Enid Lindsey (Mrs. Mainwaring), Mary Hinton (Margaret Chansy), Catherine Lacey (Diana Fellows), Peggy Talbot-Daniel (Mary), Alan Napier (Sir Basil Graham), Jill Furse (Judith Chansy), Anne Firth (Olga Jevins), Ann Casson (Hilda Mainwaring), Wallace Douglas (Richard Dobbs), Denys Blakelock (Harold Dering), Anthony Ireland (Hugh Greatorex), Margery Weston (Preston), Elizabeth Gilbert (a girl)
BATS IN THE BELFRY by Diana Morgan and Robert MacDermot
Opened at the Ambassadors’ Theatre, London, March 11, 1937
Directed by A. R. Whatmore
CAST: Vivien Leigh (Jessica Morton), Evelyn Ankers (Susan Enderley), Ivor Barnard (Rev. Morton), Charles Hawtry (Jerry Morton), Henry Kendall (Edward Morton), Leslie Wareing (Nora Morton), Michael Shepley (Harold Shaw), Lilian Braithwaite (Miranda Bailey), Lydia Sherwood (Lila Carnworthy)
HAMLET by Shakespeare
At Kronborg Castle, Elsinore, June 1937
Directed by Tyrone Guthrie
CAST: Vivien Leigh (Ophelia), Laurence Olivier (Hamlet), John Abbott, Dorothy Dix, Anthony Quayle, Leo Genn, Torin Thatcher, and George Howe
A MIDSUMMER NIGHTS DREAM by Shakespeare
Opened at the Old Vic Theatre, London, December 27, 1937
Directed by Tyrone Guthrie
CAST: Vivien Leigh (Titania), Robert Helpmann (Oberon), Ralph Richardson (Bottom), Gordon Miller (Puck), Stephen Murray (Lysander), Frank Tickle (Quince), Anthony Quayle (Demetrius), Gyles Isham (Theseus), James Hoyle (Egeus), Sidney Bromley (Philostrate), Frederick Bennett (Snug), Alexander Knox (Snout), Jonathan Field (Starveling), Althea Parker (Hippolyta), Alexis France (Hermia), Agnes Lauchlan (Helena)
SERENA BLANDISH by S. N. Behrman, from the novel A Lady of Quality by Enid Bagnold
Opened at the Gate Theatre, London, September 13, 1938
Directed by Esme Percy
CAST: Vivien Leigh (Serena Blandish), David Tree (Edgar), John Teed (Nikkle), Trevor Reid (Walter), Aubrey Dexter (Sigmund Traub), Greta Wood (Mrs. Blandish), Michael Morice (Frederic), Jeanne de Casalis (Countess Flor di Folio), Lawrence Hanray (Martin), Rosamund Greenwood (Lady), Stewart Granger (Lord Ivor Cream), Bidley Briggs (Sir Everard Pyncheon), Harold Scott (a stranger)
ROMEO AND JULIET by Shakespeare
Opened at the 51st Street Theatre, New York, May 9, 1940, after a tour including San Francisco, Chicago, and Washington
Directed by Laurence Olivier
CAST: Vivien Leigh (Juliet), Laurence Olivier (Romeo), Dame May Whitty (Nurse), Edmond O’Brien (Mercutio), Cornel Wilde (Tybalt), Alexander Knox (Friar Laurence), Wesley Addy (Benvolio), Halliwell Hobbes (Capulet), Kat
harine Warren (Lady Capulet), Ben Webster (Montague), Barbara Horder (Lady Montague), Frank Downing (Paris), Hazel Brown (Rosaline), Morton L. Stevens (Old Capulet and Friar John), Walter Brooke (Chief Officer), Jack Merivale (Balthasar), Robert Busch (Abraham), Joseph Tomes (Gregory), William Barrows (Sampson), Wilton Graff (Escalus), Ralph Brooke, Earle Grey, Oliver Cliff, Raymond Johnson, Clara Speer, Nan Merriman, Patricia Knight, Mary Kane, Nancie B. Marsland, Virginia Burchfield, Charles Prescott, Howard T. Stark, John Straub, Charles Martin, Tileston Perry, H. Robert Edwards, Ted Huish, Brant Gorman, and Ralph Grayson
Scenery and costumes by Motley
THE DOCTORS DILEMMA by George Bernard Shaw
Opened at the Haymarket Theatre, London, March 4, 1942
Directed by Irene Hentschel
CAST: Vivien Leigh (Jennifer Dubedat), Cyril Cusack (Louis Dubedat), Austin Trevor (B.B.), Frank Allenby, Charles Goldner, George Relph, and Morland Graham
THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL (two scenes) by Richard Brinsley Sheridan
Presented at the Haymarket Theatre, London, April 24, 1942
(This was a special matinee performance in aid of Stage Charities and on the occasion of Cyril Maude’s eightieth birthday)
CAST: Vivien Leigh (Lady Teazle), Cyril Maude (Sir Peter)
SPRING PARTY, a revue
Toured North Africa entertaining troops, spring 1943
Produced by John Gielgud
CAST: Vivien Leigh, Beatrice Lillie, Dorothy Dickson, and Leslie Henson (Vivien Leigh recited “You Are Old, Father William” by Lewis Carroll, “Plymouth Hoe” by Clemence Dane, and a satirical poem about Scarlett O’Hara)
THE SKIN OF OUR TEETH by Thornton Wilder
Opened at the Phoenix Theatre, London, May 16, 1945
Directed by Laurence Olivier
CAST: Vivien Leigh (Sabina), Cecil Parker (Mr. Antrobus), Joan Young (Mrs. Antrobus), Terence Morgan (the Antrobus son), and Ena Burrill (the Antrobus daughter)
