On October 17, 1960, Mabelle Parmalee Hollenbeck Raum Webb, died at the age of ninety one. Except for his time on the road, Clifton had lived his entire life under the ever present and watchful eye of his mother.
Mabelle's father was a railwayman. Her childhood consisted of frequent moves between Ohio, Indiana and Kentucky. And, when she married, she married Jacob Hollenbeck, another railwayman. Mabelle was also a frustrated performer. The Indianapolis Evening Star reported on two separate occasions in 1882, that mabele gave readings at the St. Nichol's Hotel in Indianapolis. Her chosen selections were "Mrs. Candle's Lecture," and "Order For A Picture." The article said, "All the recitations were well delivered but those of Miss Mabel Parmelee deserve special attention."
When Mabelle and Jacob married, they lived in Beech Grove, Indiana, a suburb of Indianapolis.When Webb Hollenbeck was born on November 19, 1889, Mabelle kept a sharp eye out for any theatrical ability. She must have seen something, because one day Mabelle boarded a train for New York, with young Webb, probably at the age of four or five, in tow. Jacob eventually located his family, and he and Mabelle divorced before her second marriage in 1897.
In truth, Webb was Mabelle's ticket out of Beech Grove, Indiana. And, was the victim of what we would call today, parental abduction. As soon as they arrived in New York, Mabelle enrolled her son in acting, dancing and singing lessons. If Mabelle couldn't be on stage, she would make sure her son would be.
Webb's attachment to Mabelle was rooted in this childhood experience. And it was a bond that even death couldn't separate.
Webb became inconsolable at the death of his mother.
On Monday, November 28, 1960, Coward wrote in his diary:
"Poor Clifton, on the other hand, is still, after two months, wailing and sobbing over Maybelle's (sic) death. As she was well over ninety, gaga, and had driven him mad for years, this seems excessive and over indulgent. He arrives here on Monday and I'm dreaming of a wet Christmas. Poor, poor Clifton. I am, of course, deeply sorry for him but he must snap out of it."
On Christmas morning, Coward took to his diaries once again:
"Clifton was fairly all right during the long drive, but since then he has devoted a lot of time to weeping and telling very, very long stories about the various deaths of his various beloved friends. He retails these gruesome memories with a wealth of maudlin detail. Neysa [McMein], Dorothy di Frasso, Adrian, Valentino, Jeanne Eagles. How he first heard the dreadful news of their demises, how he reacted, how they were laid out, how the memorial services were conducted, etc. These slow, slow ramblings inevitably end up with
Maybelle (sic), her last rites and the ear-rings which he remembered at the last minute to fix into her dead lobes, and then he breaks down and sobs and we all gaze at each other in wild surmise.
He admitted to me under a pledge of deep secrecy the other morning that he was seventy one. I expressed token amazement because the poor dear looks and behaves like ninety. There is much that is sweet about him but he is, and always has been, almost intolerably silly, and all this self indulgent wallowing in grief and the dear dead past is dreadfully exasperating. Coley and Charles are behaving wonderfully and so am I really, but it is tough going. He is leaving on 3 January to stay with Edward for ten days in a rented bungalow at Half Moon. That should be a morose little holiday if ever there was one."
In a Christmas letter to Joyce Carey wrote:
"He (Webb) is making an effort to snap out of it but the basic truth of the matter is that he's enjoying the wallowing. He doesn't know this, of course, but it is a leetle bit trying. After all she was 91 - on paper - and she has been on the gaga side for ages."
On January 7, Coward wrote in his diary:
"The party's over now. Coley drove Clifton, drenched in tears, to deposit his at Edward's bungalow at Half Moon. I somehow feel that it might not be an entirely cloudless visit. Edward is not exactly tolerant or kind when he gets a few drinks inside him. Poor Clifton! I gave him a loving but firm pep talk the night before he left and I think it helped a bit."
Webb's health was in decline, and he completed his final movie in 1961, "Satan Never Sleeps" which also starred William Holden. Multiple surgeries and the associated recovery, ensured that the parties that once filled the house on Rexford Drive were over. On October 13, 1966, Webb died. His secretary, Helen Matthews, felt that Webb couldn't face another anniversary of Mabelle's death which would be four days later.
On Sunday, October 16, 1966, Coward wrote in his diary:
"Clifton died two (sic) days ago. Another old friend gone. For his sake I'm glad. He's been miserably ill for a long time now. He was dreadfully preoccupied with his own bad health, poor dear. If Maybelle (sic) had died ten years earlier he might have survived better, but she left it too late and he wrapped himself in grief and dread every morning when he woke. He used to be such good company in the past. Age defeated him. I wonder if it will defeat me? I feel it won't, but you never know. Invalidism is a subtle pleasure."
For all his complaints about Webb's wallowing in the memories of "very, very long stories about the various deaths of his various beloved friends," his own diary became a chronicle of the passing of all his friends who went before him. I suppose we all do this in one form or another.
Clifton Webb and Noël Coward were introduced very early in the 1920's. By 1922, Coward reported back to his mother: "The leading men in the Revue will be Clifton Webb and Morris Harvey (if possible). I've done some heavenly new music. The whole thing will put me right up on top and break several records." The show was "London Calling" and, when it opened on February 23, 1923, neither Webb nor Harvey appeared on opening night. The two male roles went to Tubby Eldin and Noël Coward.
No doubt the cast change resulted from Webb's acceptance of the role of Jimmy Eustace in the musical comedy "Jack and Jill," which opened at the Globe Theater a month later on March 22, 1923. In "Jack and Jill" Webb introduced "Dancing in the Dark" and, a comedy number that had been written for Jack Buchanan in 1918, "And Her Mother Came Too!" written by Ivor Novello.
In his book My Life With Noël Coward, Graham Payn said of Webb: "His clipped. waspish personality amused Noël, though in later years it became increasingly irritating to him. Clifton's manner was an attempt at an American "Noël Coward," which may explain Noël's ambivalent feelings. He was his mirror image, and there were days when he wasn't in the mood to face it!"
If Clifton wanted to be the American Noël Coward, Noël Coward wanted to be the next Ivor Novello. Novello was only six years older than Coward, yet his first hit song, "Keep The Home Fires Burning," became a standard during World War I. Coward was introduced to Novello by his lifetime companion Bobbie Andrews. Novello and Andrews met in 1916, and remained together for thirty five years, only to be separated when Novello died in 1951.
After meeting Novello. Coward wrote: He wrote, "I just felt suddenly conscious of the long way I had to go before I could break into the magic atmosphere in which he moved and breathed with such nonchalance."
During the Blitz in 1941, Coward claimed to have begun the song while seated on a bench in a damaged railway station and that he finished it a few days later. It became a British standard during World War II.
Webb and Coward were in regular contact from their first meeting. There was a profitability factor in this relationship as well. As the "American Noël Coward," Coward recognized that American audiences were eager to buy tickets to a show Webb was appearing in since he had been a fixture on Broadway for decades, and, had toured the country with most of his hits. In the early to mid 1930's, Coward was still building his brand.
Once Coward opened in a show, he became bored with it easily. Rarely did he extend his appearance beyond his contractual obligation, even if it was a play that he had written for himself. To try and combat this, in 1936, he wrote and starred in a trilogy of ten one act plays called "Tonight At 8:30." Appearing with him was the actress, and his old friend, Joyce Carey.
Webb, having just closed "And Stars Remain" after a month of performances, and without prospects for new employment, decided to throw a Christmas Eve dinner for his theatrical friends. The guest list was unlike anything you have ever seen: Noël Coward, Katharine Cornell and her husband Guthrie McClintic, Joyce Carey, Alfred Lunt, Lynn Fontanne, Peggy Ashcroft, Robert Harris, Ruth Selwyn, Gloria Swanson and John Gielgud.
These were lean years for Webb. After "And Stars Remain" in 1936, he had to wait for the postponed Cole Porter musical "You Never Know" which opened in 1938 and only played for 78 performances. In 1939, Guthrie McClintic's ex-wife Estelle Winwood, cast Webb as John Worthing in her version of "The Importance of Being Earnest." But this production only ran for 61 performances. Webb, who had worked continuously on Broadway for 25 years before his ill fated MGM contract, only worked seven months in New York, between November, 1936 and November 1941.
In 1939, he managed to find a touring company of "The Man Who Came To Dinner" where he played Sheridan Whiteside. Finally, in December of 1941, Coward came through for Webb. "Blithe Spirit" was a comedy that needed a light touch. Coward, who hadn't even played the lead in London, decided not to do the show in New York, and called his old friend, Webb.
Webb, of course, jumped at the opportunity. "Blithe Spirit" ran for 1,997 performances in London. In New York, it ran from 1941 to 1943 for 689 performances. Then Webb took it on the road. In 1946, Coward came through again with "Present Laughter" and the role of Garry Essendine. In this case Coward played the original role in London, but bowed out for the New York production. Subsequent revivals starring George C. Scott and Frank Langella each ran for 175 performances.
The original production ran for 158 performances. It would be Webb's last appearance on a Broadway stage. It was 1946, after all, and Otto Preminger needed a Waldo Lydecker for his film "Laura." A new window in Webb's life was opening wide, and he would sail through as quickly as he could.
Through it all, Coward and Webb maintained a regular correspondence. In 1957, Coward sent a letter to "Darling pretty Mr W," on Blue Harbour stationery:
Witty, chatty, gossipy. Everything you would expect in a Noël Coward letter. Only Coward could get away with calling Webb a "silly, dithering old Twot."
As Webb and Coward grew older, so did Mabelle. Finally, Mabelle died at the age of 91. Webb was consumed with grief at the loss of his mother, who he had lived with for his entire life, and he carried his inconsolable grief everywhere he went for the rest of his life. One of Coward's famous quotes rose from Webb's grief.
According to Graham Payn, when Coward called Webb from Jamaica after Mabelle's death, Webb spent so much time on the phone saying nothing and letting out racking sobs, that the only way Coward could calm him down by threatening to reverse the charges. When he hung up the phone, Payn says the Coward turned to him and said, "You realize this makes Clifton the worlds oldest, living orphan."
In his book, Behind The Screen: How Gays and Lesbians Saved Hollywood, William Mann says the line was actually said at the home of Billy Haines and Jimmy Shields. After a dinner party, about a year after Mabelle's death, someone made a suggestion that everyone go downtown to see a XX Show. Deep in grief, Webb wanted nothing to do with merriment and kept saying, "It's too soon, It's too soon." An exasperated Coward is said to have turned to to Webb and said, "You know, Clifton, it's not a terrible thing to be orphaned at seventy four."
I would hazard a suggestion that both stories are true. I'm sure that Coward would, once he found a good line, use it in any situation.
As he dealt with his grief, Webb grew more and more cantankerous. Some of it, which was chronicled in Coward's diaries and letters, will be included in the next post.
