During his reign as a Hollywood leading man, Herbert Marshall was inclined to "sound off" about issues that meant something to him. He was proud of his British middle-class roots and felt a certain disconnect from the well-born set. When scenarist Sada Cowan called him a "gentleman," Marshall was having none of it. "I am not a gentleman," he insisted. "To understand me, you have to know what the word 'gentleman' means to a Britisher. It means 'well born.' And I am decidedly not what a Briton means by well born. I come from a substantial middle-class family. So you see, on the face of things I am not a gentleman. I don't like the word anyway." Marshall associated "gentleman" with entitlement. Cowan was truly pleased that she was able to shake up Bart (as his friends referred to him). She enjoyed making a complete nuisance of herself during interviews. Two years later when columnist Mollie Merrick repeated the accusation, Bart fired back, "I am sick and tired of being a gentleman. To me the term implies artificiality—a studied pose, and I'm damned if I'm artificial!"
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What Marshall brought to the screen was rooted in the legacy of his parents, Percy and Ethel, both actors. Even more important, was his experience in World War I along the Western Front. He prided himself in being a "Lady From Hell"—the moniker the Germans gave to British soldiers wearing kilts, including his London-Scottish regiment. Marshall rarely talked about this experience in interviews, but opened up to reporter David Hazen in 1936. Hazen himself had been a war correspondent in France. It was in France, on the morning of April 9, 1917, that Marshall's left knee was shattered during the Battle of Arras. He spent a year in a London Hospital as doctors tried to save his leg. It was a losing battle. Fitted with his first prosthesis, he did what any other young Brit would do and headed straight to the nearest pub—a fortuitous decision.
Herbert Brough Falcon Marshall (born May 23, 1890) had been on stage since 1910, after being fired as an office boy for a London accountant. He credited his friendship with character actor Eric Blore as "the turning point in my adult life. I began to reach out, to stir, as it were ... I have Eric to thank for this." Trouping with Blore proved inspirational. Come 1915, Bart was co-starring with veteran actor Cyril Maude in a U.S. tour of the popular comedy Grumpy. When Marshal returned home (1916) he was greeted by not only his wife Mollie Maitland (an actress), but King and Country. In a few months Private Marshall was sent to the Western Front. In the bloody aftermath, he felt his acting career was in shambles. His visit to the aforementioned pub, brought him face-to-face with actor-manager N. Carter Slaughter, who insisted that Bart return to the stage as a wounded veteran in the drama Betty at Bay. By 1920, Bart was tackling roles in Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice, and the melancholy traveler Jacques in As You Like It. The Saturday Review nodded, "Herbert Marshall ... the best Jacques we have ever seen."
Marshall perfected the art of disguising his "disability." Even his co-players were unaware that he had lost a leg. One exception was Noel Coward. During a run of the playwright's The Young Idea (1922), Bart designated Noel as his appointed backstage mechanic. Between acts, Coward adjusted Marshall's prosthesis. Coward's secretary, Cole Lesley, later mused, "Their humor centered exclusively below the waist"—due to the fact that Bart had to drop his trousers while Noel loosened or tightened screws. Bart permitted such shenanigans in private, but his stage contracts allowed no publicity regarding his war injury.
Marshall became romantically involved with co-star Edna Best. The two had teamed in six plays prior to their November 1928 marriage. Fans on both side of the Atlantic thought it an ideal match. While the popular duo performed in a Broadway run of Frederick Lonsdale's The High Road, Bart filmed his first sound picture, The Letter (1929), based on the novel by Somerset Maugham. Maugham provided ideal acting turf for Marshall in no less than five screen roles. In England, Marshall starred in Alfred Hitchcock's Murder! (1930). "The role was perfect for him," recalled the director. "He turned out to be excellent in the sound medium."
Marshall's seductive voice lured cinema's top leading ladies. Norma Shearer enthused, "The first time I ever saw Mr. Marshall on screen was in a picture with Claudette Colbert. I thought I had never seen a lady so thoroughly and convincingly loved." The Colbert picture, Secrets of a Secretary (1931) was part of what Marshall referred to as a "deluge" of screen offers. It wasn't long before director Josef von Sternberg insisted that Paramount close Marshall's Broadway run of There's Always Juliet. He wanted the actor, post haste, to play opposite his protégé Marlene Dietrich in the erotically-charged Blonde Venus (1932). Paramount complied, paying off the cast and projected profits ($36,000). Afterwards, Marshall offered another of his blunt assessments, this time targeting von Sternberg. "Mr. von Sternberg and I did not get along," he admitted. "It was only keeping a firm grip on my self-control that I was able to go on." While the film offered Dietrich dazzling, outré musical numbers, The New York Times graciously acknowledged, "Marshall's valiant work in a thankless role." Not to worry. The famous "touch" of director Ernst Lubitsch came to Marshall's rescue.
"When a player is cast in a Lubitsch picture," declared Marshall, "his worries are over. Lubitsch will bring out in him a better performance than he ever suspected himself capable of giving." Trouble in Paradise (1932) is considered by many to be Lubitsch's best film. British novelist Leslie Storm cheered the "consummate artistry" of Marshall and Kay Francis. Their scenes together are piquantly played with wit and skill, and wholeheartedly embraced the romantic, sexual being. It's an intoxicating world that Lubitsch and his stars offered.
By 1934, Bart and Edna opted to relocate to Hollywood following the birth of their daughter Sarah Lynn. Bart left England to make preparations, and signed on with MGM. Norma Shearer finally got her wish to play opposite Marshall in MGM's Riptide (1934). By the time Edna arrived (February 1934), the red-hot topic was the affair going on between Bart Marshall and Gloria Swanson. He admitted to Edna that he was having an affair. Soon afterward, Marshall's remedy (scotch with a twist of lemon) for damaged nerve pain and emotional guilt triggered a harrowing episode. While filming at MGM, he crossed over to Norma Shearer for an intimate scene when his artificial leg ricocheted and tore through his pants. Norma and London-born director Edmund Goulding tactfully persuaded Marshall to stop drinking, for the time being. Edna made a point to meet her rival Swanson, making a plea on behalf of herself, her husband, and young daughter. Gloria was unsympathetic, insisting that she and Bart were "deeply in love." Bart made it clear to Edna that he didn't want a divorce. She returned to England, biding her time.
Marshall stayed on at MGM, playing opposite Garbo in W. Somerset Maugham's tale to philandering ex-pats in the Orient, The Painted Veil (1934). Variety was impressed, nodding, "Acting honors really go to Herbert Marshall." In an about turn, Bart was cast in William Wyler's screwball comedy The Good Fairy (1935). Marshall's comic spin proved refreshing, different from anything he had done on screen. Unsurprisingly, a string of new leading ladies requested his services: Ann Harding, Sylvia Sidney, Merle Oberon, Ruth Chatterton, Katharine Hepburn, and Barbara Stanwyck.
In the fall of 1936, Marshall returned to England to spend a month with his wife and three-year-old daughter. The couple decided to "remain pals." His affair with Swanson came to a predictable closure. In her autobiography, Gloria complained of Marshall's "overly docile disposition. He couldn't bear to hurt anyone. He would always turn to alcohol rather than face a painful scene." The humbling ordeal of war was the contributing factor to Marshall's "docile disposition," or more kindly put, his self-control and thoughtfulness. The "painful scene" that he faced on a daily basis was physical. Marshall suffered from "phantom pain"—caused by the pressure from prostheses against damaged nerve endings. His preferred pain remedy was alcohol—not an unusual choice at that time when legal options for relief were few and far between.
As Marshall wound up his career as a leading man in Hollywood, he became romantically involved with a young New York model named Lee Russell. The couple made headlines when Lee's husband sued Marshall for $250,000, charging "alienation of affections." In the aftermath of this soap-opera, Bart returned to the stage in a west-coast tour of Ladies and Gentlemen, co-starring Helen Hayes. In early 1940 Edna Best was granted a divorce and remarried shortly thereafter. Bart and Lee then quickly tied the marital knot. At this juncture Marshall focused on supporting roles in films. For a change, Marshall took opportunities to play the "bad guy." He gave audiences chills as the poised, genteel leader of a bloody Nazi conspiracy in Hitchcock's Foreign Correspondent (1940). William Wyler selected Marshall for plum assignments opposite Bette Davis in Maugham's The Letter (1940) and Lillian Hellman's The Little Foxes (1941). The latter film was a strong showcase for the duo. As husband and wife they lock horns over Davis' ruthless machinations and money-grubbing. Hollywood Citizen News rated it the best performance of Marshall's career. Unfortunately, he was overlooked even as the film scored nine Academy Award nominations.
As casualties in World War II escalated, so did Marshall's commitment to helping the wounded and disabled. In an inspired move, Kay Francis asked him to join her in hospital units for the Naval Aid Auxiliary. In order to play an effective role in this, Bart had to be more candid about himself. Not only did he not hide his prosthesis, he made it part of his presentation to the wounded. His opening up, for the sake of other amputees, made a tremendous hit with the men. Some of the wounded he counseled not only praised him but claimed that his example inspired them to be done with despair and go on with their lives as he so clearly had with his own. Even the skeptics, some of whom were terribly wounded and disliked the very idea of having to listen to counseling from a handsome Hollywood actor, were completely won over by him. He graciously designated Kay as godmother to his and Lee's new baby girl, Ann Marshall.
While wrapping up a few minor films at MGM, Marshall signed on for his own radio series, The Man Called X (CBS), in which he played a secret agent. There was enough intrigue and humor to keep it on air from 1944-1952.
Bart and Lee separated in the fall of 1945, but remained under the same roof due to the housing shortage. He began seeing Boots Mallory, a former Ziegfeld girl. The two would marry in 1947. During this marital marry-go-round Marshall made an impressive turn playing W. Somerset Maugham in the author's The Razor's Edge (1946). Maugham, a casual acquaintance of Bart, reportedly selected him for the role. The film made subtle references to Maugham's romantic proclivities. Bart had a sense of humor regarding such matters, explaining that, as an actor, "Sinning against society as the late Oscar Wilde did ... is quite gratifying to us 'hams.'"
Throughout the 1950s Marshall signed on for roles in easily forgotten films. One exception was the science fiction blockbuster The Fly (1958). While the film was noted for its shock value, it was also a thought-provoking query into the ramifications of scientific exploration. Co-star Vincent Price recalled the scene in which he and Bart stared at the human-headed fly caught in a spider's web squealing, "Help Meeee!" as a spider prepared to make a meal of him. The two actors kept ruining takes, laughing themselves sick. "Finally," recalled Price, "Herbert said, 'The Hell with you, help us!'" The film is considered a classic by buffs, and one Dallas critic thought Marshall's role as Inspector Charas was "beautifully underplayed."
Not long after the film's release, Bart's beloved wife Boots passed away at the age of forty-six. He also lost close friends Ronald Colman and Eric Blore. Following surgery for a brain-tumor, ex-wife Edna Best returned to England to live in a sanatorium. Despite his marathon of grief, Marshall determined to remarry, and film no less than seven films during the early 1960s, with as many TV appearances. For the 1963 release The Caretakers, he was reunited on screen with Joan Crawford who had worked with him in 1931’s When Ladies Meet. Crawford could see that he was not well and persuaded the film’s director to work out a less strenuous shooting schedule for the ailing actor. Weak and suffering from depression, no doubt aggravated by his drinking, he passed away on January 22, 1966 at the age of 75.
Note: Marshall's story gets up close and personal in the new release Herbert Marshall - A Biography (2018) from BearManor Media. Eye-opening back-stories concerning his wives, and Marshall's opinions of directors and co-stars fuel the narrative. Marshall's life-long commitment to helping disabled vets and amputees is also detailed. A Foreword by award-winning British author and film preservationist Kevin Brownlow pays tribute to Marshall's "remarkable sensitivity"—and ability to "play so subtly with your emotions." While he was no gentleman, Herbert Marshall had "goodness." As one Somerset Maugham line goes: "Goodness is the greatest force in the world and he's got it!"