A Life of Barbara Stanwyck: Steel-True 1907-1940

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A Life of Barbara Stanwyck: Steel-True 1907-1940 Page 1

by Victoria Wilson




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  CONTENTS

  Epigraph

  PART ONE | Up from Under

  1: Family History • 2: The Perils • 3: Starting Life Anew • 4: Heart and Nerve and Sinew • 5: Keeping Kool • 6: The Prevailing Sizzle • 7: On Being Actresses, Not Asstresses • 8: Formerly Ruby Stevens of the Cabarets • 9: Broadway’s Favorite Son • 10: Having a Hunch • 11: Invitation West • 12: Panic of Self-Doubt • 13: A Test in Technicolor • 14: Trying to Make a Living • 15: A Primitive Emotional • 16: Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Love • 17: On Her Own

  PART TWO | Undertow

  1: “Hot Speel in the Blood” • 2: Idealism and Fight • 3: On Being “Barbaric” • 4: “Theoretically Dangerous Overload” • 5: F • A • Y • 6: Salt of the Earth • 7: Prophets of a New Order • 8: Object of Desire • 9: A Path to Motherhood • 10: A Most Dangerous Man Menace • 11: Bold and Bad • 12: Entrances and Exits

  PART THREE | Valor and Fire

  1: Adjusted Angles of Vision • 2: Sinister Provisions • 3: Leading with Your Ace • 4: A Beautiful Ghost • 5: Normal People Leading Normal Lives • 6: Another Routine Job • 7: Average Screenfare • 8: “Little Sure Shot” • 9: Practical Policies • 10: Scar Tissue • 11: High Schemes and Misdemeanors • 12: This Side of the Sphinx • 13: The Making of a Man • 14: Exactly Like Anybody • 15: Good Luck at Home • 16: Fresh Passion, Fresh Pain • 17: Sea of Grass

  PART FOUR | A Larger Reach

  1: Feelings of Uncertainty • 2: Goddamned Sinkhole of Culture • 3: Stella Dallas • 4: “Clean Labor Unionism” • 5: Starry Skies Above • 6: Well, Who Am I? • 7: Bull in the Afternoon • 8: Rearing Up • 9: Charges of Contempt • 10: Wins and Losses • 11: Golden Influences • 12: Mother Love at Home and Abroad • 13: Pomp and Glory • 14: Champion of the “Cockeyed Wonder” • 15: Ain’t She a Peacherino • 16: Darkening Lands • 17: On the Brink

  Acknowledgments

  About Victoria Wilson

  Appendix I: Stage Chronology

  Appendix II: Film Chronology

  Appendix III: Radio Chronology

  Appendix IV: Television Chronology

  Notes

  Selected Bibliography

  Index

  For

  Helen Wilson

  Nina Bourne

  and

  Bob Gottlieb

  Trusty, dusky, vivid, true,

  With eyes of gold and bramble-dew,

  Steel-true and blade-straight,

  The great artificer

  Made my mate.

  —Robert Taylor on Barbara Stanwyck, quoting Robert Louis Stevenson

  She was the greatest emotional actress the screen has yet known.

  —Frank Capra

  I only met her once. She was introduced to me by, of all people, Gertrude Lawrence . . . Stanwyck was gracious and laconic; very tiny; very chic; very controlled. But I met her! I saw the eyes, the lips. Contact was made.

  —Tennessee Williams

  When John Ashbery was asked where he turned for consolation, he replied, “Probably to a movie, something with Barbara Stanwyck.”

  —Deborah Solomon, The New York Times Magazine, January 14, 2007

  PART ONE

  Up from Under

  Life beats down and crushes the soul, and art reminds you that you have one.

  —Stella Adler

  Ruby Stevens, 1923, age sixteen. Note the spelling of her name: “Rubye.”

  ONE

  Family History

  My grandparents on both sides were probably horse-thieves. No one ever told us anything about them. Therefore I suspect the worst. I imagine they were born and raised in Ireland. But wherever the family tree is planted, whether its branches are rotten or sound, I’ll never know.

  —Barbara Stanwyck, 1937

  It has been written about Barbara Stanwyck, born Ruby Stevens, that she was an orphan. Her mother, Catherine Ann McPhee Stevens, Kitty, died in 1911, when Ruby was four years old. Following Kitty’s death, Ruby’s father, Byron E. Stevens, a mason, left his five children and set sail for the Panama Canal, determined to get away and hoping to find work at higher wages than at home.

  The story goes that Ruby and her older brother, Malcolm Byron, then six years of age, were passed from Brooklyn home to home, from tenement to tenement, to whatever family would take them in for the few dollars the family would be paid for their care. Ruby would earn her keep scrubbing toilets, doing whatever she could to stay alive. Her three sisters, who were much older, two of whom were married, were busy with their own lives. One sister was in show business, a dancer who frequently traveled and was barely able to care for herself, but who looked out for Ruby and Byron and earned enough money to keep both children off the street.

  In and around that story is the notion that Ruby Stevens came from nowhere, that she was a tough Brooklyn girl, educated on the streets, who never finished high school, who became a showgirl as a young teenager, hoofing her way from one club to another, from one musical revue to another, until she landed a job in a play, got her big break, and was a sensation on Broadway.

  And some of this story is true.

  • • •

  Ruby Stevens from the streets of Brooklyn, who danced in cabarets and clubs, a Broadway star at twenty, was a daughter of the American Revolution.

  The Stevens family can be traced in America as far back as 1740. Ruby’s great-great-grandfather Thomas Stephens Sr. was from New England—Georgetown, Maine. Her great-great-grandmother Mary Oliver was from Marblehead, Massachusetts, and married Thomas Stephens when he was nineteen and she sixteen.

  Stephens established a business in maritime shipping. During the Revolutionary War, his ships were used against the Crown in a massive seaborne insurgency that helped to win the War of Independence.

  Thomas junior, Ruby Stevens’s great-grandfather, one of five Stephens children, was born in Georgetown, Maine, nine years before America won its war of independence. Her grandfather Joseph, one of ten children, was born on July 4, 1809, and married three times—first to Isabelle Morgan, who died soon after; then to her sister, Arzelia Morgan, two years later (together they had four sons); and then to a young woman from Derby, Vermont, living in Lowell, Massachusetts. Joseph Stephens, at almost six feet tall, dark with dark hair and blue eyes, was fifty years old; Abby Spencer, twenty-seven. The Stephens family bought farmland on the main road of Lanesville, Massachusetts, near Gloucester, which, with a voting population of 350, was the largest town in Massachusetts. The Stephens house at 16 Langsford Street between Lanes and Folly Coves was built with the compactness of a ship’s interior. Behind it was a carriage barn with an old cherry tree that dominated the Stephenses’ front lawn. Off to the parlor side the branches of a mulberry tree spread out over the wooden fence that surrounded the property.

  Cod and mackerel fishermen used Lanes Cove, taking their pinkies and schooners out before dawn and returning by three to unload their catches. They kept their nets and tackle and pots in wooden sheds that faced the water along the curve of the beach.

  • • •

  In 1862, almost a year after the shelling of Fort Sumter in Charleston Harbor, and at the age of fifty-three, Joseph Stevens (spelling now changed) traveled to Boston and enlisted in the U.S. Army, a private in Company L of the First Massachus
etts Heavy Artillery Volunteers. Months later, Stevens, as a sergeant, was engaged in the Second Battle of Bull Run and was discharged in mid-October 1863, days before two of his sons, Melville and Sylvanus, enlisted.

  Stevens returned to Lanesville and found work as a ship’s navigator and caulker, putting jute rope between the joints of the ship’s boards and sealing the joints with tar. His wife, Abby, gave birth on July 16, 1864, to their only child, Byron, Ruby Stevens’s father.

  On April 9, 1865, General Robert E. Lee surrendered the Confederate Army of Northern Virginia to Lieutenant General Ulysses S. Grant. The people of Lanes Cove celebrated by blowing fish horns and decorating their ships. Six days later, a horse and rider galloped into the village with the shocking news of President Lincoln’s assassination. Churches were draped in mourning cloth. Mourning flags flew with black-and-white stripes and white stars on a black background. Women sewed black-and-white ribbon rosettes and wore them on the left shoulder as mourning badges.

  • • •

  Byron Stevens grew up in the small fishing village of Lanesville and came to love the sea. His mother was a favorite of the fishermen who passed her house on their way home from Lanes Cove and offered Abby lobsters from their daily catches. The Stevens family wasn’t rich, but by 1870 Joseph Stevens had amassed a great deal of land, and they were comfortable.

  The Stevenses were careful in their rearing of Byron. Joseph and Abby were formal people, strict Methodists. Each Sunday they traveled the mile by horse and carriage to the neighboring town of Bay View to attend the Bay View Church and often invited the minister to dinner.

  The Stevenses lived in Lanesville. Their house on Langsford Street was a short distance from the main harbor of Lanes Cove, pictured above.

  By 1881, Byron had started college with the hopes of studying law. When his father died of consumption, Byron was forced to quit school and found employment a block away from his house, learning a trade in one of the great granite quarries as a mason and a stone setter. The towns of Bay View and Lanesville had grown up around the quarries.

  During the winter months, the local fishermen worked at the Eames and Stimson (later Lanesville) Granite Company cutting paving blocks. Iron-rimmed wagons carried the blocks through the fields, up Langsford Street to Lanes Cove, where granite schooners and stone sloops were docked. Paving stones, as many as forty thousand, were loaded onto ships and delivered to New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and other cities being built up along the seaboard.

  On a trip to Boston, Byron met a young girl from Canada who had come to visit her aunt Mary and cousin Mary Gallis.

  Catherine Ann McPhee, from Sydney, Nova Scotia, was of Scotch-Irish descent. Her forebears had left Scotland in the seventeenth century like thousands of other Scottish Lowlanders who migrated to Ulster for a grant of land and a long lease. They were Presbyterian in faith and stayed in Northern Ireland until the mid-eighteenth century, when, with thousands of others who left in waves during the famine of 1740–1741, they came to the United States and Canada.

  Kitty McPhee grew up in a large family that included a twin brother, Malcolm, who died when he was a boy. Their father, George, died when both children were young, and their mother, Elizabeth, remarried and had another family.

  Byron Stevens and Kitty McPhee married in 1886 and stayed in Lanesville, boarding at 876 Washington Street, half a mile down the road from Byron’s boyhood home. Byron was twenty-one years old; Kitty was fifteen and carrying their child. On April 23, six weeks after their marriage, Kitty gave birth to a girl, Laura Mildred. After Mildred was born, Abby Stevens frequently visited Byron and her daughter-in-law to make sure things were done properly.

  During the next four years, Byron and Kitty had two more daughters: Viola Maud in 1888 and Mabel Christine in 1890.

  Byron found temporary work as a mason in New York City, but once the work was completed, the family returned to Massachusetts and decided to leave Lanesville to follow his older half brothers who had moved to the town of Lynn, on Massachusetts Bay.

  • • •

  Chelsea, Massachusetts, eight miles south of Lynn, had originally been part of Boston until it became a separate township made up of Chelsea, Revere, and Winthrop. The city of roughly thirty thousand people boasted of being fifteen minutes by iron steamboat from Boston as well as a twenty-minute ride from the sea along Revere Beach Reservation.

  Lumber warehouses, rubber works, and bone-black factories lined the industrial heart and main street of the city, Marginal Street, which ran along the Charles River. Shipyards still produced schooners there as well as pilot boats and steamboats. The Stevenses lived in the rear of 106 Essex Street, a brick two-family building, like many of the houses of the city, a few blocks north of Marginal Street.

  Each summer the family traveled the thirty-five miles to Lanesville to spend a portion of July or August with Byron’s mother, who stayed in the house on Langsford Street after Joseph’s death. The sun and sea air of Lanesville felt different, and the three young Stevens girls were happy to be in the village where they had grown up and in their grandmother’s house with its daunting parlor of horsehair-and-mahogany-backed chairs used only for special occasions and its marble-top tables displaying family albums. In the winter the parlor was heated by a small round stove at the room’s center.

  Byron Stevens was a strict father with a fierce temper and frequently lashed out at his daughters. The girls would have preferred he beat them than punish them with such harsh scolding. Abby expected her daughter-in-law to be equally strict with the girls. Kitty tried to follow Abby’s dictum when her mother-in-law was around, but on her own, when Byron left for work and his mother wasn’t in the house, Kitty, who had talent and dreams of being on the stage, would sing and put on playlets with her girls. She longed to be a dancer.

  • • •

  Byron and Kitty were soon able to afford a house on Spruce Street, a step up, a modest two-family structure away from the water, closer to the center of town.

  Byron found work in New Hampshire, and the Stevens family closed up their house and took the Boston-and-Maine train to Dover, a small but once busy port with ships from all over the world traveling the ten miles up the narrow Cochecho River to tie up at Dover Landing. Brick schooners carried cargo from the twenty-three Dover brickyards that stood along the clay banks of the Cochecho and Bellamy Rivers to eastern cities like Philadelphia and Boston. Dover brick was being used to build row houses along Copley Square. Dover was also a mill town, supplying cotton for soldiers’ uniforms and blankets during the war. Now, thirty years later, the town’s mills produced dress cloth—organzas, sateens, ruffles, and calicoes. The largest of the mills, the Cochecho Plant Works, employed more than a thousand people and produced eighty million yards of cotton a year.

  The Stevens family, Chelsea, Massachusetts, circa 1901. Left to right: Mabel Christine, age ten; Catherine Anne (“Kitty”) MacFee Stevens, thirty-three; Viola Maud, twelve; Byron, thirty-eight; Laura Mildred, fourteen. (COURTESY GENE VASLETT)

  A year before the Stevenses’ move to Dover, the town was devastated by the worst disaster in its history. In March 1896, a late winter storm came in, bringing rain so driving that the Cochecho River rose more than six feet, causing huge ice floes to break loose and destroying the town’s five bridges as well as its central avenue and a row of stores. Carloads of lumber were swept off the wharves at Dover Landing; more than a thousand barrels of lime ignited a fire that raged through the buildings.

  Dover as a port was devastated. The silt that had taken fifty years to be dredged out of its harbor was swept back in by the furious waters in thirty-six hours. The harbor’s 140-foot schooners were destroyed.

  Byron had been hired to help rebuild the town, and the Stevenses lived on a street of white clapboard houses that ended a block from the Cochecho River. During the days, Millie, Maud, and Mabel, eleven, nine, and seven, played hide-and-seek in the storage trunks of a factory that was close to the house.

  Maud S
tevens, age ten, circa 1898. (COURTESY JUNE D. MERKENT)

  Soon the family returned to Chelsea, and Abby Stevens, sick with heart disease, died on February 14, 1898. She was sixty-six years old.

  Kitty and Byron and the three girls traveled back to Lanesville for the funeral but were barely able to make it through the February southwester that had started the night before. Snow squalls were raging through the town; the main street was strewn with live wires and downed telephone poles. Coasters, sloops, and fishing vessels still in the water made a tangled chain.

  Abby’s funeral was held later that day at 16 Langsford Street with the service led by the Stevenses’ pastor, the Reverend Nicklin of the Bay View Church. The snow was so deep it was impossible for a horse pulling a carriage with a casket to make its way to the Lanesville Cemetery; the burial was postponed a day. Abby was buried in pastureland that had once belonged to the Stevens family.

  • • •

  Kitty Stevens was free. With the death of Byron’s mother, she no longer had to withstand her mother-in-law’s instructions on the correct way to raise children, keep her house, comport herself and her family. Kitty had lived through twelve years of Abby’s iron rule, and she could now give her daughters the things she wanted for them.

  Dancing classes topped the list. She worried that Byron would disapprove, knowing that his mother would have been aghast at the idea that her granddaughters were learning to dance. But her resilience and spirit were hard to resist, as was her determination. Finally, she had her way; Byron agreed to let the girls attend dancing classes, and Kitty, an expert seamstress, sewed dresses for them of organdy, challis, and Lansdowne silks in case they should be asked to attend any balls.

  The Stevens girls gathered in their kitchen to rehearse their dance lessons as Kitty whistled the songs and Byron accompanied them on the violin. Millie danced the “French dance”; Maud, the “Highland Fling”; and Mabel, “the Sailor’s Hornpipe.”

 

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