My Autobiography, Charles Chaplin [books to read in your 20s .TXT] 📗

I stayed on for a while and played around New York. Frank, my butler, telephoned that when she returned to the Beverly Hills house she did not stay but packed up her things and left. When I returned home to Beverly Hills she had gone to Mexico to get a divorce. It was a very sad house. The wrench naturally hurt, for it was hard cleaving eight years’ association from one’s life.

Although The Great Dictator was extremely popular with the American public, it no doubt created underground antagonism. The first inkling of this came from the Press on my return to Beverly Hills, an ominous gathering of men, over twenty of them, who sat in silence in our glassed-in porch. I offered tham a drink and they refused – this was unusual for members of the Press.

‘What’s on your mind, Charlie?’ said one, who evidently spoke for all of them.

‘A little publicity for The Dictator,’ I said jokingly.

I told them of my interview with the President and remarked that my film was giving the American Embassy trouble in the Argentine, believing it a good story, but they still remained silent. Then after a pause, I said humorously: ‘That didn’t seem to go over so well, did it?’

‘No, it didn’t,’ said the spokesman. ‘Your public relations are not very good: you left here ignoring the Press, and we don’t like it.’

Although I was never too popular with the local Press, his remark rather amazed me. As a matter of fact, I had left Hollywood without seeing them because I believed that those who were not too friendly might tear The Great Dictator to bits before it had a chance to be seen in New York. And I could not afford to take chances with a $2,000,000 investment. I told them that an anti-Nazi picture had powerful enemies, even in America, and that to give the picture a chance I had decided to have it previewed at the last moment, before its presentation to the audience.

But nothing I said affected their antagonistic attitude. The climate began to change and many snide items began to appear in the Press; mild attacks at first, stories about my stinginess, then ugly rumours about Paulette and me. But in spite of the adverse publicity The Great Dictator continued breaking records both in England and America.

*

Although America was not yet at war, Roosevelt was waging a cold one with Hitler. This made it very difficult for the President, for the Nazis had made inroads into American institutions and organizations; whether these organizations were aware of it or not, they were being used as tools of the Nazis.

Then came the sudden and dramatic news that Japan had attacked Pearl Harbor. The severity of it stunned America. But she immediately girded herself for war, and before long many divisions of American soldiers were overseas. At this juncture the Russians were holding off Hitler’s hordes outside Moscow, and were calling for an immediate second front. Roosevelt recommended it; and although the Nazi sympathizers had now gone underground, their poison was still in the air. Every device was used to divide us from our Russian allies. Vicious propaganda was rife at that time, saying: ‘Let them both bleed white, then we’ll come in at the kill’ – every kind of subterfuge was used to prevent a second front. Anxious days followed. Each day we heard of Russia’s appalling casualties. Days went by into weeks and weeks into many months and the Nazis were still outside Moscow.

At this moment I believe my troubles began. I received a telephone call from the head of the American Committee for Russian war relief in San Francisco, asking if I would take the place of Mr Joseph E. Davies, the American Ambassador to Russia, who was to speak, but at the last moment had been attacked with laryngitis. Although I had only a few hours’ notice, I accepted. The meeting was scheduled for the following day, so I caught the evening train which arrived in San Francisco at eight in the morning.

The committee had a social itinerary mapped out for me – a lunch here and a dinner there – which gave me little time to think of a speech, and I was to be the principal speaker. However, at dinner I drank a couple of glasses of champagne and that helped matters.

The hall held ten thousand and was packed. On the stage were American admirals and generals, and Mayor Rossi of San Francisco. The speeches were restrained and equivocating. Said the Mayor: ‘We must live with the fact that the Russians are our allies.’ He was cautious not to overstate the Russian emergency, or overpraise their valour, or mention the fact that they were fighting and dying to hold back nearly two hundred divisions of Nazis. Our allies were strange bed-fellows was the attitude I felt that evening.

The head of the committee had prevailed on me to speak for an hour if possible. This terrified me. At the most, four minutes was my limit. But after listening to such weak palaver my indignation was aroused. I made four topic notes on the back of my dinner place-card. Pacing up and down backstage in a state of nerves and fear, I waited to go on. Then I heard my introduction.

I was wearing a black tie and dinner jacket. There was applause which gave me a little time to collect myself. When it subsided I said one word: ‘Comrades!’ and the house went up in a roar of laughter. When it subsided, I said emphatically: ‘And I mean comrades.’ There was renewed laughter, then applause. I continued: ‘I assume there are many Russians here tonight, and the way your countrymen are fighting and dying at this very moment, it is an honour and a privilege to call you comrades.’ Through the applause many stood up.

Now I became inflamed, thinking of the expression ‘Let them both bleed white.’ I was going to express my indignation about it –