O’Dell did not know the real cause behind the small manifestations of approaching disaster; he saw the Schumachers too seldom, he says, even to hazard a guess (though Raoul’s statement, ‘You are my best friend,’ sits uneasily in this light). He saw no evidence of homosexuality in Raoul. ‘To the contrary, I thought he was rather like me in that respect – too much the other way, and I knew he had earlier enjoyed several affairs with some high-flying women in New Mexico and Arizona,’ Mr O’Dell added.
But Raoul had been found lacking in some way, of that there is no doubt. The idol had feet of clay. He did not measure up. Perhaps at this stage in their relationship, it was merely Raoul’s failure as a provider that forced Beryl to recognize some disappointing reality in his make-up. That year of 1944 was the most prolific time for the couple as writers, but even then they only produced five short stories between them. Beryl’s short lecture tour had provided a much needed boost to the couple’s income and according to O’Dell she had received a large advance to write a book on Tod Sloane, the celebrated jockey, though if this is so it was from a source other than Houghton Mifflin and Beryl’s agent was never aware of the contract.53
Perhaps, once again, Beryl’s marital problems were caused by her own promiscuity. Few men would have been tolerant of her attitude towards casual sexual encounters. But this seems unlikely, for almost imperceptibly Beryl now began to assume a dominant role in the relationship. Raoul was the underdog, (which hints that he was the wrongdoer) and nothing could have been more fatal for the survival of the marriage. Essentially Beryl needed support from a partner, someone she could lean on in times of stress and who could assuage her own deep-seated insecurity. Clearly she did not receive the support she needed from Raoul and anything less was almost guaranteed to earn only her growing contempt.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
1944–1948
In April 1945 Raoul was placed ‘on general reserve’ (without pay) with the US Coast Guard ‘and released from active service duty’ (though beyond Beryl’s statements on the subject there is no evidence that he ever saw any).1 With the war virtually over, Beryl and Raoul started to think about a permanent home. Both wanted to remain in California, preferably on a small ranch, somewhere quiet where they could write but not too far from social contacts. Milly Kelleher, a friend of Raoul’s from Santa Barbara, provided the answer.
Milly ran one of the four real-estate agencies in Santa Barbara and she had on her books a small ‘avocado ranch’ which had previously been the country retreat of Leopold Stokowski and his former wife Evangeline. Beryl had known Stokowski since her trip to the West Coast in 1937, at the beginning of the maestro’s affair with Greta Garbo, but had already returned to South Africa in February 1938 when their romance burst into public gaze courtesy of the world press and culminated in the famous, wistful remark, ‘I only want to be left alone.’2
Stokowski married Gloria Vanderbilt in April 1945 and in strange ways strings were pulled that jingled echoes in Beryl’s earlier life, for Gloria was the niece of Lady (Thelma) Furness (the former wife of ‘Duke’ Furness who had been Tom Campbell Black’s employer in the 1930s). Thelma had also been the acknowledged mistress of Edward, Prince of Wales, who bestowed upon her the nickname ‘Toodles’. For five years the prince had enjoyed a sophisticated liaison in which matters were always satisfactorily arranged to ensure that he and Lady Furness could spend weekends together at Fort Belvedere, the prince’s home in Windsor Great Park.3 Their personal idyll was ended when Thelma, about to depart for a holiday in America, naively suggested to Wallis Simpson, ‘I’m afraid the Prince is going to be lonely. Wallis, won’t you look after him?’4
As a child Gloria had been the principal character in a legal battle that captured world headlines in which she was dubbed ‘poor little rich girl’ and in which her widowed mother, also named Gloria (the twin sister of Thelma Furness), fought a vicious battle for custody of ‘Little Gloria’. The child who had inherited millions of dollars had an unhappy upbringing for which she never forgave her mother.5
When ‘little’ Gloria married Stokowski, a man forty-two years her senior, the press conjectured that she was seeking the father she’d never known. Publicly she cut off her mother’s allowance, declaring through newspaper interviews, ‘My mother can go to work or starve.’ When her Aunt Thelma castigated her – again in the papers – for ‘her bad example to the average American girl and her inhuman treatment of her mother’ Gloria answered with a broadside: ‘Lady Furness need not criticize and be so anxious about the American Girl. The average American girl lives in a happy home and receives Mother Love. My mother gave me neither of these blessings. Let her Ladyship go back to England and tend to her own affairs.’6
Gloria’s petulance even affected Beryl, for the new Mrs Stokowski did not like the Montecito ranch in the hills at the back of Santa Barbara. Possibly this was because Stokowski’s previous wife Evangeline had lived there, but it was also locally notorious for having been the hideaway of Stokowski and Garbo during their harried love affair some years earlier.7 Stokowski loved the seventeen-acre ranch, and it was probably at Gloria’s pre-marital request that he put the property on the market, but he could never bring himself to sell it.8 He had more or less built it to his own specifications, or at least had personally designed and supervised much of the building, and he even claimed to have personally planted some of the avocado trees.9
Throughout the years that he owned the property, despite long absences he maintained a regular correspondence with the handyman Robert Lopez who looked after the house and garden from 1942 to 1957. Stokowski’s letters were full of minute instructions for the garden, down to the precise site for, and after-care of, the rare and exotic trees which regularly found their way to the ranch. Often when the maestro made an overseas tour he would be asked what gift he would most like to commemorate the occasion, and he always requested a tree for his Montecito ranch. The ranch, having been unlived in for some time now found its way onto the books of Milly Kelleher.
Milly, the mutual friend of both the Schumachers and Stokowski, at once saw a solution to the dilemma and Beryl and Raoul moved into the property in Toro Canyon in the late spring of 1945. They paid no rent and lived there as guest-caretakers rather than tenants. Stokowski continued to visit the house whenever he returned to the West Coast.
Like Stokowski, Beryl adored the ranch. In 1986 she told me it was the loveliest house in the world. ‘Lovelier than Njoro?’ ‘Mmm…different,’ she said. Indeed in its setting it was remarkably like Njoro. Nestling high in the foothills of the Santa Ynez mountains which form an impressive backdrop to Santa Barbara, the rustic timber house overlooks sunbaked slopes of red-earthed groves of fruit trees. The climate is, like Njoro, seemingly eternally sunny and the views from the house are equally spectacular, for whilst in Njoro the views across the fabled Rift end with the Aberdares, in Toro Canyon the views across the hills terminate in palm-fringed beaches and the glittering, blue Pacific Ocean.
The house itself, single-storeyed with large cool rooms, is U-shaped and built into the hillside so that one wing is higher than the other. It is not an ostentatious residence, but it is well-designed, comfortable and typically Californian. The large living area which forms one side of the building is on the lower level and the bedrooms form the higher wing, so that from every room the views are spectacular, and each window has a clear prospect. In the centre of the horse-shoe are a swimming pool and a patio, both built at the same time as the house. All the rooms open on to the pool and patio; bougainvillea tumbles everywhere in bright red and pink confusion. The windows of the house, generously shaded under overhanging eaves, have always been flung open to the gardens basking in the California sunshine and cool ocean breezes.
Even today in the uncultivated hills which lap the edge of the ranch, wildlife abounds – deer, foxes, bobcat and rabbits roam the quiet hills of the canyon.10 There is an ever-present hot dry scent of eucalyptus and pine, and a sweet elusive perfume from t
he creamy flowers of towering yucca plants. Wherever you walk you hear constantly the quick scuttling sounds of lizards, disturbed from basking, as they scurry across dry undergrowth. Bluejays screech in the trees and bustle in the flowerbeds, buzzards hover constantly on the air currents of the surrounding hills.
Beryl loved to ride out alone in these hills, she was totally at home here and despite the problems she was experiencing in her marriage was probably never happier. Initially the move caused a cessation of hostilities and the Schumachers rapidly became a popular addition to Santa Barbara society. Beryl – now aged forty-four – was stunning and her writing success had added a new dimension, an aura of self-confidence. She was still a minor celebrity in her own right and Raoul was a charming man. ‘In those days anyone who had a black tie and knew how to hold a knife was welcomed with open arms,’ said a friend. ‘Raoul was a very entertaining guest – before he started to drink heavily that is…’11 There were also a number of people in the town whom Beryl knew from her past, including Thelma Furness who stayed there for a time, and Gabriel and Rhoda Prud’homme, whom she had first known in Kenya where the wealthy couple had owned a lavishly equipped farm in Nanyuki. Rhoda and Beryl were alternately close friends one week and at loggerheads the next. Rhoda loved to entertain often and on a grand scale from her Pacific Coast house and Beryl was not above turning up at Rhoda’s impressive parties wearing her riding clothes, to the annoyance of her hostess.12
As usual Beryl did not have many women friends. ‘The other women tended to keep a tight hold on their men when Beryl was around,’ Warren Austin said. ‘Men really liked to be around her and she liked to be around them. She didn’t especially work at it but she had such charisma, and she was so interesting that it just happened that way. She couldn’t help shining in any kind of gathering and the other women didn’t particularly like always being in her shadow.13
A typical day for Beryl and Raoul started with a ride in the hills before breakfast. During the morning they would work independently; each had their own typewriter and Beryl preferred to work in her room.14 Several times a week Beryl would visit a beauty salon in nearby Santa Barbara with its white Spanish-style buildings and red-tile roofs. Cool courtyards with splashing fountains provided pleasant meeting places for lunch with friends. Afternoons were spent around the pool, and in the evenings the couple often dined out or went to the casino. In the colder months they sat in the pleasant sitting room around a spitting log fire, and read, or invited friends in to play bridge, a game which Beryl disliked but played moderately well. Stokowski had installed at one end of the room a grand piano for his work. Beryl recalled playing this piano, though how good she was is open to conjecture.
Maddie de Mott, who became a peripheral member of the same social set in those years, first met the couple in 1946 at a cocktail party.
I was very impressed at how dashing everyone was – well-dressed and cheery. I particularly remember Beryl as being tall and really quite lovely-looking with blonde hair. Raoul appeared to be less socially minded in a way. He didn’t seem to have quite as flashy clothes and was rather a friendly simple person. They moved about in a group I knew quite well. They were independent, working for themselves…Both were writing short stories and were, I gather, making quite a bit of money. I think they also used to sometimes go up to a ranch in the hills behind Santa Barbara and help with the cattle…and they particularly liked picnics. I remember one picnic that I went on…Beryl was riding in a car, it was a red convertible and her blonde hair was streaming out behind her. She had dashing young men with her, plus Raoul. Sometimes she enjoyed driving herself. Raoul was a bon vivant who really enjoyed life. He used to say that work was the curse of the drinking classes and was suspected of spending more time drinking than working. His drinking though was rather jovial, and his greatest asset was his overt friendliness and witty humour.15
It was about this time that Warren Austin met the Schumachers. For some years Dr Austin had been personal physician to the Duke of Windsor during the duke’s period as governor of the Bahamas. He arrived on the islands some time after Beryl’s visit there in 1941 so had never met her, but he had heard of her. Austin was running an army hospital when the prince’s ADC, Major Gray Phillips, came in with a broken finger, suffered in a bicycling accident. The two men became firm friends and this led to Dr Austin’s appointment as physician to His Royal Highness.
The doctor’s most colourful memories of his time in the Bahamas revolve mainly around the constant ‘security exercises’. From the beginning there had been concern that the Germans would try to kidnap HRH, and given this forewarning it would be reasonable to assume that security would have been appropriately strict. However Dr Austin recalls that whenever the army staged one of the frequent ‘mock kidnap’ attempts, the stand-in prince was always captured, and once during a major fire, all the fire hoses were found neatly cut into slices.16
Dr Austin and the duchess were frequently the only two Americans present at dinner parties and often partnered each other for bridge. ‘A lot of the English people were really good and in fact more or less made their living out of bridge. The duchess was always terribly worried that she might make someone lose who couldn’t afford it, and I was her able partner in ensuring this did not happen.’ He heard of Beryl through his great friendship with Major Gray Phillips and his frequent meetings with the Duke and Duchess of Windsor. And when, at the end of his service in Nassau, Dr Austin dined with His Royal Highness and Major Phillips, they discussed their personal plans for the future.
When I said I was going to California they said, ‘But you must look up our good friend Beryl Markham and give her our regards.’ That was the main reason that I headed for Santa Barbara. I went to the house in Toro Canyon and lived there with Raoul and Beryl for a while. It hadn’t been my intention, but they insisted that I stay there and simply wouldn’t hear of me going anywhere else. They lived a typically laid-back existence; socially both were very popular and fun to be with. I thought Beryl was a most marvellous woman, but she just couldn’t credit why I had to go off each day and work for a living.17
In 1946 Beryl’s son, Gervase, then aged sixteen, came over from England to stay with her for six months. Mansfield had provided the fare to grant the boy’s natural wish to spend some time with the mother whom he had seen so infrequently, but of whom he was immensely proud. Gervase’s age seems to have taken Beryl by surprise. ‘She was terribly upset,’ said Warren Austin, ‘she didn’t want people to know that she was old enough to have a son that big…’18
When Gervase arrived in Santa Barbara his wardrobe was unsuitable for the Californian climate and Dr Austin was dispatched to clothe the new arrival – Beryl would not be seen out in Santa Barbara with him. ‘She wasn’t at all like a mother to him and left it to me to make sure he had proper food…I remember the poor boy seemed to have one cold after another…I think Beryl saw this as a sort of weakness of character. She more or less kept him hidden away up at the ranch,’ the doctor recollected. Nevertheless Gervase enjoyed his visit to his mother. He admired her lifestyle, so colourful after the drab war years in England, and in particular he was impressed that she was a friend of Stokowski, who paid several visits to the ranch whilst Gervase was there.19
Gervase never appeared to resent the lack of maternal demonstration by his mother, and when in subsequent years he spoke of her to his wife Viviane it was only in the most affectionate terms. To his children he never spoke of Beryl at all.20
Stokowski was very attracted to Beryl, whose looks have often been described as Garboesque, so her physical appearance was probably to his taste. The two enjoyed a brief flickering love affair which mellowed into a mutually rewarding friendship, though it flamed occasionally over the following years.
Dr Austin soon discovered that all was not as it appeared on the surface. ‘I hadn’t been at the ranch for long when I realized that things were very wrong between Beryl and Raoul. It was difficult for me because I liked them both
. It was all rather unhappy and they had lots of personal problems which they didn’t seem able to resolve.’21
Raoul’s drinking was initially the chief cause of their arguments, but Beryl’s promiscuity also became an item of contention after Raoul returned home unexpectedly one day and discovered her in flagrante delicto with a close friend of the couple.22 Violent conflict ensued. Beryl had now discovered that Raoul’s own sexual preferences were bi-sexual and had been prepared to ignore this foible only whilst her own extra-marital activities were not questioned. Indeed their large circle of friends included many from Santa Barbara’s gay community and Beryl had none of the contemporary aversion for what was still considered to be sexual deviation. Dr Austin thought that whilst Beryl may not have been happy about Raoul’s occasional homosexual activities it did not initially constitute a fundamental factor in their conflict. She was far more concerned that Raoul’s excessive drinking was causing him to become seriously overweight, and – perhaps more relevant – unable to produce stories that were acceptable to publishers. The couple’s relationship deteriorated into bitter, bickering recriminations on both sides.
Scott O’Dell told me about an incident which he also wrote about in his letter to Vanity Fair in March 1987. He had only seen the couple once since they moved to Montecito and on that occasion Beryl was very rude to him. He did not elaborate, and was probably unaware of the reason, but it was at a time when Beryl was suspicious of all Raoul’s male friends. Some months after his visit, O’Dell told me, he received a telephone call from Beryl to say she thought that Raoul was dying. ‘Come and get him!’ she demanded. Why she should have contacted O’Dell in this way is something of a mystery for he had only seen the couple four or five times in as many years. He lived a three-hour drive away from Montecito and there were – and still are – many people in Santa Barbara who claim to have been extremely fond of Raoul. O’Dell arranged to meet Beryl at a convenient half-way location on the three-hour drive between his home at Pomona and Santa Barbara. ‘She drove up and stopped outside the Beverly Wilshire Hotel. She just looked at me and never said a word. She got out of her car and opened the back door and what was left of Raoul fell out onto the pavement. She got into her car and drove off without saying a word to me and left Raoul lying there with all the cars going by. When I had last seen him he had been about my height and conformation, I suppose about one hundred and ninety pounds, but the hospital said he weighed under a hundred pounds.’23 In her book Beryl admits to being ‘pathologically’ afraid of sickness. Her treatment of her son’s minor ill-health, which she wrote off as a weakness in his character, further supports this. It is no excuse for her callous behaviour on this occasion but together with the background of open conflict between the couple it does, perhaps, provide an explanation.
Straight on Till Morning Page 31
