Personality - Richard Burton (1925-1984)

He was the most popular legendary actor of Hollywood. A natural actor, his name to fame on the personal front was, being married to actress Elizabeth Taylor, not once, but twice! In all, however, he married four times. Not bad for an actor who had an insatiable thirst for the glamour world, limelight, fame and fortune. His good looks were well complimented by his naturally gifted abilities to perform. He had the knack to make people listen to him and laugh with him. While charm and humor were his strong points, he had a weakness for gorgeous ladies and wine.
His career can be distinctly be divided in to two eras; pre Cleopatra and post Cleopatra. He displayed histrionics on as well as off the screen. It was always felt that his complete potential was never utilized, however, he had enough of opportunity to display the same through movies like The Robe (1953), Alexander The Great (1956), and even in his last movie Nineteen Eighty-Four.

Throughout Burton’s life, he was seldom far from news, always hitting the headlines. He was the most-talked about star of his era, but his talents and magnetism seem to have been wasted away pursuing women - married or unmarried.


To survive, Richard Burton needed friends, relatives and women all around him, all his life. Throughout his life, from his playing days at Wales to his later years as a superstar, his regard for truth and his ability to face reality was very less and he invariably needed a shoulder to cry on.

He was emotionally protected, but he rarely cared for other’s emotions. He had a remarkable ability to hold public attention and made them believe what he conveyed. People used to laugh, choke, and recoil listening his stories. His stories reminded people of South Wales where he was born -- valleys filled with lyrics, poetry and beer. Men worked hard, drank hard and played hard and boys grew up in the expectation of a lifetime in the dark, dusty pits.

Family Background Of A Welsh Boy

He was born on November 10, 1925, as a miner’s 12th child. His birthplace was the small village of Pontrhydyfen, four miles up the valley from the industrial sea-side town of Port Talbot. As a child, Burton was known as Richard Walter Jenkins. Richard's good look was inherited from his father Dick Bach with a finely sculpted face, high cheekbones and wide eyes.

His father, who worked the coalface for many years, had a drinking problem. Richard’s mother Edith was a woman with gentle habits – a soft soul. She was a small pretty, fair woman with deep-set eyes and curly hair. She had difficult times with her husband. Despite all the difficulties, she was always cheerful, running a clean house and looking after her children. But, she was driven to exhaustion by childbirth and child-rearing. Her work included cooking, cleaning, scrubbing and washing clothes for her own huge family. And with all that work, she also took laundry jobs for other people to supplement the family income.

Richard was closely attached to his mother. As most toddlers, he followed his mother everywhere. But that wasn’t to be long. Two weeks before Richard’s second birthday, his mother Edith died a few days after giving birth to her 13th child called Graham in October 1927. His father was never a responsible man. Unable to handle two toddlers, they were taken in by the elder members of the family. Youngest Graham was taken to Bach’s eldest brother Tom and Richard was packed off to live with Bach’s eldest sister Cecilia and her husband Elfed James in Taibach district of Port Talbot. James too was a coal miner and Cecilia became foster mother to Richard, though he never addressed her so.


Smoking at an Early Age

Richard and Dillwyn didn’t normally spend their money on lemon drinks or lollipops, unlike kids their age. By eight he was an accomplished smoker and acquired a taste for beer. They bought cigarettes, five woodbines (in a pack of three) and a box of matches during the course of the film and sat puffing away in the back of the stalls. Both boys would have been skinned alive if their parents had ever caught them in the act. To prevent being caught red-handed, the cigarette stubs were grudgingly thrown over the wooden bridge when it was time to go home.

Richard was turning into a rough and tough miner’s son. He spent lavishly on cigarettes and beer. He also began borrowing money to take girls to a dance or at the pub. However, many a time the boys would get caught, despite all the precautions they took when the families got together and compared notes. Richard and Dillwyn’s accounts didn’t always tally, and when that happened the boys would be taken quietly aside by their fathers, in Richard’s case his elder brother, and punished. They were punished not for their deeds but for telling a lie. As a result, he learned to be an expert in the art of pulling the wool over everyone’s eyes

Welsh Boy

When Richard first arrived at Port Talbot he spoke no English, only Welsh. But, he was in no way a lost soul in a sea of strangers. He was an omnipresent figure in everyone’s lives. He was assigned a job at his aunt Edith’s place; he had to scrub potatoes for the fish and chip shop his aunt owned. Richard would sit in the backyard surrounded by pounds of potatoes and bucketful of water and scrub the potatoes. His payment at the end of it all was a helping of chips wrapped in the daily paper. He was very talkative and used to tell Edith that when he grew up he was going to be a great preacher, a writer or an actor. With a handsome face, dark untidy hair, bright blue eyes and a dimple in his chin, he looked disarmingly angelic.

Aunt Edith and her husband were not wealthy but everyone ate well. They lived on simple fare – sausages, faggots, pies, cheap cuts of meat and nothing was wasted. In later life, he ate the best food frequently and secretly preferred Lava Bread for all the exotic food he ate in the top restaurants around the world. He loved nothing much like sausages and mash or tripe and onions.

There was no electricity in their house at Caradoe Street. Gas lamps lit the houses. Bath was taken in a tin tub, filled with hot water boiled on the stove.

When Richard was five years old, he was admitted to school along with the other neighborhood kids at Eastern Infants. At the age of eight, girls and boys were split up and the boys packed off to the boys’ school, a short walk down the road from the Eastern Infants. Fifty children in a class was not unusual, but discipline was infinitely better. Children indulged in all kinds of devilish pranks out of school and were duly beaten when discovered. They grew up with a healthy respect for adults in authority.

Teacher's Influence

By eight, he had learned to read fluently and had fallen under the spell of a teacher, the first of the only two, who were instrumental in shaping the course of his life. Meredith Jones was the first one. He taught the scholarship class at the boys’ school and was quick at thinking and talking to the point of brilliance. As Burton later put it: "He was all electricity, sparkling and flashing: his pyrotechnical arguments would occasionally short-circuit but they were never out of power." A dedicated and inspiring teacher, who had two abiding passions – rugby and English, both of which he passed onto Richard.

Jones founded the Taibach Youth Club where Richard at 15, acquired his first real taste of the stage. It was he who coached the eager 11-year-old Burton through his scholarship exam and helped him see through to the Port Talbot Secondary School. Four years later, he paved the way for Richard to be re-admitted in the school.

The ‘sec’ was one of two grammar schools in Port Talbot and the ‘County’ was the other. There was great rivalry between the two. They labeled each other as ‘County Bulldogs’ and ‘Secondary Cabbages’.

At a ‘Secondary Cabbage’ Richard met the second school teacher, who played a major role in his life. The young lad was a bright boy, but never worked hard at studies. He was also naughty and used to create trouble for others. Saturday afternoons were filled with pleasure at cinema house, watching slide shows at the Gibeon Chapel, which was known as ‘Magic Lantern’. If the film happened to be a love story, Richard and his friend Dillwyn would not leave the cinema.


His Talents

Although Richard had won a scholarship to the ‘Sec’ during the course of his four years in school, he channeled most of his energy at rugby and at times, to cricket. He auditioned for school plays just because he had a burning desire to be an actor. The chosen people in the play were regarded as cut above the rest and yet, he managed to be the center of attention.

Philip Burton, his senior English teacher, was known for the work he had produced for radio and for a theatre company that ran locally. His pupils rated him as an impressive figure. Though Richard was impressed by Philip, it was not vice-versa. In January 1941, when Richard was 15 and in the fourth year, he finally was chosen for the same part of Vanhatten in a production of The Apple Cart by George Bernard Shaw.

His father tried to pull strings at the local co-operatives stores to get him fixed up in a job, when jobs were hard to come. Rchard stayed at school till the end of the spring term and in April he hung up his school cap and went to work. He had no qualifications and looked at life as an unremarkable nine-to-five employee in Port Talbot.

His scholarship class teacher from Eastern Boys, Meredith Jones, was embarking on a revolutionary scheme to open a youth club in Taibach. He used to proclaim in Welsh, "My members are not cultured and refined, yet they’re ‘here’ and they’re ‘alive’." The ‘clubhouse’ was the Eastern Elementary School, a condemned building. The first time the club held a ‘parents’ evening, Richard and another friend Trevor George leapt onto the stage and entertained the audience with their impersonations of Hitler and Mussolini, with scanty lighting by a torch and a couple of candles, et al.

Leo Lloyd had cast Richard as the lead in his first dramatic production, in The Bishop’s Candlesticks, which was to be done in mime. It was a one-act play adapted from Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables. Through this play, Richard pursued acting as a possible career.

A job was also arranged for him at the co-operative store. But he hated it thinking it was the ultimate indignity and responded accordingly. He did not take his job seriously. He started smoking and drinking at pubs with rough town lads.

Richard was influenced by three men who inspired him to take up a career for a stage artist, "First, Meredith Jones with his breath-taking effrontery and his eloquent and dazzling generalizations, hurled and swept me into the ambition to be something other than a 30-bob-a-week outfitters apprentice. Second, the Alderman, the County Councilor, the Chairman of the Glamorgan Education Committee, provided the means. Third, Llewellyn Heycock, who used his wide powers to get me re-admitted to the Grammar School after ten months’ absence – in those days, and perhaps these, an unprecedented act."

Self Humiliation

By August 1941, Richard developed a firm notion that he was to reach somewhere in life and the only way to go out of valley was through education. His aim was gigantic and the rough and tough, wild 15-year-old, looking and behaving far older than his years, holding his own with the working youngmen of the town, had to don a school cap and walk once again, back to school.

Then, there was a humiliation he never forgot. Philip had cast Richard in a radio play he wrote called Venture, Adventure. He agreed with Meredith, that although Richard was prone to being somewhat wild and unruly, he had potential. He promised that he would keep an eye on the boy when he returned to the school, to ensure that he did not become a bad influence on other pupils.

Using The Name

Philip Richard who was a local celebrity earlier, had turned to a potential passport out of the valleys. Richard was smart enough to know this and went out of his way to make certain that Philip noticed him. His ploy worked, for Philip started thinking that Richard was successful.


"I was fascinated by him. I thought he had incredible potential and great need," said Philip. The future he saw for Richard was the one he wished for himself – a classical stage actor but there was no company who could hire a person who spoke as Richard did. His voice was deep and strong and he knew it. Along with training his voice, he had to learn breathing, dialogue delivery and actions and many other skills that an actor needs to know.
Philip had a vacant room and thought that since Richard was unhappy at home, he suggested that Richard shift with him. Richard was delighted by the idea. He talked to his aunt and uncle about the offer and they okayed it.

In March 1943, Richard moved out of his house and settled with Philip. Philip cast Richard in two of his plays that he produced that year – Glorious Gallows and Youth at the Helm, an ATC production to raise money for the corps. Private rehearsals went on till late at night, as Philip wanted perfection.

Towards the end of war, RAF ran a recruiting scheme for airmen offering a short university course at Oxford or Cambridge to likely candidates. Most of those selected were from Air Training Corps squadrons based around the country and as commanding officer of 499 Squadron, Philip Richard was in a respectable position to choose candidates. On paper Richard was a working-class coat miner’s son and in 1943, class barriers were still a force. There was very little social mobility and Richard’s background would not have impressed RAF selection board.

Philip proposed adopting Richard, giving him his name Richard Burton and turning their position into a legal and permanent father-son relationship. Richard, again, was smart enough to make good the opportunity as Jenkins was a common name in valleys, whereas Burton was more respectable.

However, there was one hitch. As per the rules then, the legal minimum age difference between adoptive parent and child was 21 years and Philip fell short of it by just 21 days. The sole alternative option for him was to make Richard his ward, binding only while the boy was a minor. The legal document gave Richard’s schoolteacher’s surname and was to all intents and purposes an agreement of adoption. This gave Philip uncontrolled custody of Richard, and the obligation to feed, clothe and educate him.

On December 17, 1943, a month after his 18th birthday, he took on the new name Richard Burton, the name that took him out of Rhondda Valley, and away from poverty towards the avalanche of success.

One morning Burton came to Stanley, boasting about his conquest of their landlady. He said: "I’ve had her. Last night, I had her in front of the fire, and in the middle I felt as though my feet were on fire and I thought I must be in hell. Then I realized that I was too close to the fire and my socks were burning." Stanley was mightily impressed and believed the story implicitly for 20 years till Burton admitted it to be just a story.

His Fascination

Burton’s masculinity never merged with his fellow students. He was a magnet for both men and women who held groups spellbound in any of the pubs of the city. He told stories of home, of his hard-drinking, coal-hewing family, his exotic ancestors whose origins changed every time it was delivered, or recited Shakespeare. He had a strong passion for Shakespeare and learnt many passages by-heart. His drinking capacity was well-known at the University. Beer appeared to have no adverse effect on Burton.

He met Tim Hardy at Oxford University Dramatic Society (OUDS), who later was named as actor Robert Hardy, and remained a close friend throughout his life. Once Richard told one of his friends that Tim Hardy would be a better actor than he ever would, yet for some reason he considered him ill-suited for the theatre, and saw it as his mission to dissuade him. Neville Coghill, a fellow in English Literature, director of OUDS wrote of Burton: "This boy is a genius and will be a great actor. He is outstandingly handsome and robust, very masculine and with deep inward fire, and extremely reserved."

By the end of 1945, Burton and his fellow aircrew trainees were back in England. Burton was sent to an old bomber airfield in Norfolk called RAF Docking, where he languished for months with nothing to do but play rugby and challenge air force rules. Burton established himself as lord of the manor. They drank a lot, danced, bedded local girls, and poached peasants. A non-commissioned officer, who tried to discipline them, was simply beaten up. During one such incident, an unpopular Sergeant was brought close to death. There was no real work, thus they spent their time cleaning lavatories and peeling potatoes. As a bachelor, he followed girls with dedication, with no discrimination, without emotion, remorse or exchange of names. He retained an insatiable thirst for women – neither to love them nor to be loved by them, just with the idea to possess them. He did not enjoy caressing them, he did not enjoy their company. He used women to boost his own confidence.

Adulthood

Towards the end of 1947, he was released from RAF. He had been given special permission to go to London for two weeks, to appear in another Emlyn Williams play The Corn is Green being made for television by the BBC. It was Emlyn’s autobiographical work. After Burton’s 21st birthday, Philip was no longer officially his guardian. By this time, Philip had also become a full-time producer.

In the summer of 1948, Emlyn Williams came to his rescue with the offer of a reasonable part in a film he had written and was going to direct and act in, The Last Days of Dolwyn. It was filmed initially at the London Film Studios in Isleworth, and then on locations at North Wales where they worked into the autumn. It was on this set that Burton met Sybil Williams, a pretty young actress of 18.

Like Burton, Sybil also came from a small mining village in South Wales, which also belonged to Stanley. Sybil and Stanley were emotionally bonded to each other as brother and sister. She had lost her parents at an early age and was thus brought up by the schoolteacher aunt in a strongly academic atmosphere.

She was alien in her looks, with a Roman nose, a long neck and eyes and a mouth that always appeared to be on the brink of laughter. She was dark and her hair, entirely silver. She charmed and infected everyone who knew her with warmth and love for life and bustling enthusiasm for everything that was going on around her. She had a style and an equally unique elegance, as was Burton's. She was someone with whom everyone wanted to be with. They were a perfect match, and made an enviable pair.


Within a few months of their meeting, on February 5, 1949, Burton and Sybil tied the knot at Kensigton Register Office in London. There was a small reception at Sybil’s house in Pelham Crescent, where they were living. After the wedding, Sybil went off to do theatre and Burton made himself comfortable with champagne and radio, listening matches.

However, even after the marriage, Burton continued with his one-night stands with women. Sybil was amazed by the way Burton blatantly slept around. He picked up girls from any place, be it a shop, a cinema house or a pub.

Burton was fiercely patriotic. He was fascinated by anything that was from the Wales. Almost everyday, he wore red, its national color. He sang Welsh songs and would recite in its language after gulping a few drinks. The most he loved was its national sport, rugby, for which he went miles to watch. Most of his friends were Welsh. Burton and Sybil had rented a big house belonging to actor Hugh Griffith, another Welsh. They lived in the old house at Oxhill village for a long time to come, with Robert Hardy and his girlfriend.

Burton was grown in a society where women looked after the house and devoted themselves to their men. Though he had joined the bohemian world of theatre, it could not turn him extensively by heart. He continued to be a boy from the valleys. He wanted his woman to devote herself to him and Sybil did so, wholeheartedly. Burton realized that Sybil was the perfect match for him. She was a great companion – quick, intelligent and witty. Burton had many illicit liaisons but managed to keep them away from Sybil. She tolerated him, though not oblivious of the hard facts about her husband.

Oscar Nomination

Alexander Konda lent Burton to Darryl Zanuck of the Twentieth Century Fox, to make a number of films. The first of the series was based on Daphne du Maurier’s novel My Cousin Rachel. Burton’s role attracted excitement, winning him three press and magazine awards and his first Oscar nomination. It also fetched him the lead role in The Robe (1953). Darryl Zanuck was said to have staked the entire future of Twentieth Century Fox on Ben Hur and Quo Vadis, where Burton played the lead. He played the role of Marcellus, the Roman officer in charge of the Christ’s execution, who became so obsessed with guilt because of his past deeds that he converted to Christianity, and died a martyr’s death.

Burton was now in demand as an entertaining star, who entertained people off the screen with shocking and amazing stories.


Elizabeth Taylor - The First Encounter

During a party Burton met Elizabeth Taylor, who was then married to Michael Wilding. Her first sight attracted him so much, that he said: "I was enjoying this small social triumph, but then a girl sitting on the other side of the pool lowered her book, took off her sunglasses and looked at me. She was so extraordinarily beautiful that I nearly laughed out loud… She sipped some beer and went back to her book. I tried to be social with the others around, but couldn’t.

She was unquestionably gorgeous. I can think of no other word to describe a combination of plenitude, frugality, abundance and tightness. She was lavish. She was a dark unyielding largesse. She was, in short, too bloody much, and not only that, she was totally ignoring me."

No married man, even his best friends, could feel secure when Burton was around. His appetite for women could never diminish. His conquest of women, however beautiful, however in demand, rarely appeared to give him much real or lasting pleasure. He was not a tremendously good lover. He had such charm, wit and sheer breathtaking cheek to say to women what other men could not dream of.

In one such incident, he took off a very famous American actress into the night, instructing his friends to keep an eye on her husband, who was himself a most revered and legendary actor. The surprising part was, that the lady herself agreed to go with him, and they were back through a support door, mingling in the party even before her husband could notice her absence.

In another such event, the actress, a friend of Burton and Sybil was taken by Burton to a wood shed where they made love on a big white rug in front of the fire, while her husband slept peacefully in his suite, elsewhere in the house. He had no scruples about taking other men’s wives, and no real qualms about being unfaithful to his wife. Sybil turned a blind eye to most of Burton’s escapades.

An Unimpressed Father

Burton’s relations with his father Dick Bach were not smooth. Bach didn’t follow Richard’s progress with equal enthusiasm, as the rest of the family members did. He didn’t see any of Burton’s films, didn’t go to the theatre, nor was he interested in them. Bach felt that he had lost his son and Burton had much the same sentiments about his father. There was a deep-seated feeling of rejection in Burton, which he could never quite shake off. Burton Jr. found a father figure in his brother Ifor, who was 19 years his senior.

In beginning of 1957, Sybil became pregnant and was due in September. Soon after the good news of Sybil’s pregnancy, came the bad news of Bach’s death at the age of 81. Burton didn’t attend the funeral. "My father was a very unsentimental person. He would be shocked if he knew I had traveled more than seven hundred miles to go to his funeral," he said.


A Proud Father

On September 11, Sybil gave birth to a little girl whom they named Kate, at a hospital in Geneva. Being a proud father, Burton left the mother and baby in Switzerland with a nanny to look after, and flew to the United States.

This could always be associated with a new love affair. At this new production, he met a much junior member of the cast, actress Susan Strasberg, who was just 19 and quite taken in by Burton’s charm. He openly accepted the relationship with Susan. He rented an apartment to meet her and also went to her home, to meet her parents. Susan was madly in love with Burton. She was shattered when he dropped her one fine day, for no reason at all.

Time Remembered, in which they played together ran for eight months and though he was slightly more discreet about his movements when Sybil arrived, the affair continued. He didn’t have flings because he wanted to replace Sybil or was in any way, unhappy in his relationship with her. He was so confident that no circumstance, Sybil would never leave him. Sybil was confident that provided she lets him live his affairs, he would never leave her. His affair with Susan Strasberg came to an end when he went home in June.

In 1960, Look Back In Anger brought him to Britain, for his first visit as a non-resident, and his newfound wealth was obvious. By the yearend, Burton became father the second time, and this time too, it was a girl. Within two and a half years, the couple had their second baby. But, Burton had hoped for a baby boy, as he longed for a son. Their second daughter was named Jessica.

In 1961, he was been approached by a senior producer of Twentieth Century Fox and offered a quarter of a million dollars for three months’ work at Rome, playing the part of Mark Antony in the film Cleopatra. Elizabeth Taylor played the lead in the film. She had been a star who had captured the public imagination since childhood, in films like Lassie Come Home and National Velvet.

By birth, she was English, a daughter of a prosperous London art dealer who had moved to the United States at the outbreak of war. She was 29, at a good height of beauty and fame, a most publicized woman in the film world. All the marriages and its public declaration could not affect her fame. Elizabeth, who was branded a scarlet woman, a wicked widow, a marriage breaker was associated with Twentieth Century Fox.

Twentieth Century Fox paid Elizabeth, more than any actress had ever been paid in the history of the film industry – a million dollars for 64 days’ work, plus 3,000 dollars living expenses per week and a few other benefits, penthouse suites, villas in Rome and Rolls Royce's to take her to and fro, between the studios.

On one such afternoon, while a group of friends were having tea across the road from the studios, Burton left the party and went off to watch Elizabeth doing a nude scene. He came back like a man possessed, raving about her beauty, and everyone knew that in no time he would get Elizabeth into bed. Elizabeth, in all her earlier six marriages, had a strict code of personal morality. She married a man she slept with, whatever their marital status at the time, and Richard was no exception. He was very much attracted to Elizabeth, had all his life been proving his masculine prowess, proving that he could take any woman he wanted, irrespective of the costs or the risks. Elizabeth considered her marriage with Eddie Fisher a mistake. She had bowed to public opinion, and was looking for a way out, for some romance in her life. And Burton was there for her.

Sybil knew what was happening long before the news became public, but tolerated in silence, as she had observed all his other affairs and was confident that this one too would come to a pass. She was also tensed due to Jessica’s suffering. Burton at the time of the filming of The Long Day called off his affair with Elizabeth, quoting Sybil as his first priority. Elizabeth could not bear that and having taken an overdose of sleeping pills, was rushed to hospital . Emotionally moved by this act, he decided to marry Elizabeth. Now, Sybil could take it no longer. She packed her belongings clearing out of the villa and moved of Rome, with children in tow. Burton’s brother, including his friends and relatives too, opposed his relationship with Elizabeth.

Specialists diagnosed Jessica to be suffering from autism, due to which children are perfectly normal physically and intellectually, but due to some inner trauma, they shut themselves off from the world, and


their only form of expression is anger. By then, Burton and Elizabeth had incurred the disgust of the American public. They were together signed in The VIPs, their next film. They arrived in London by train. Elizabeth arrived with her three children, two secretaries and enough baggage. She had to work hard to be accepted not just by the public, but by Burton’s friends also.
They made a second house in Puerto Vallarta called ‘The New House’. One house was Elizabeth’s, the other Burton’s, and they built a bridge which connected the two, running from Elizabeth’s swimming pool area to Burton’s first floor. They would drink to compete with each other, betting as to who between them, drank more.

Sybil took to alcohol too, than ever before. She was determined not to let Richard off the hook by seeking an official separation. She thought that if marriage was to die, then he must be the one to kill. Burton chose to be with Elizabeth. Sybil cut herself off from the past completely, from her home, her memories, with a few exceptions of her friends, made a fresh start, in America. The financial settlement was complicated as she said that she wanted the reins of New York residence. Burton could have the rest of the world but New York was hers, and if he ever arrived in the city, he was to give prior warning to her, so that she could leave the place.

Elizabeth joined Burton for lunch in the pub or a restaurant in the village with her children and they stayed and watched shooting. Elizabeth and Burton behaved like young lovers, purring about one another’s assets, teasing each other and turning each other. She used such intoxicating language that made strong men like Burton blush. Burton and Elizabeth merrily celebrated Christmas of 1963 at their new home, in Puerto Vallarta.

As a divorcesettlement, Burton gave his Sybil everything he had, with the exception of the house in Celigny, plus £50,000 a year in alimony. Burton was aware of the injustice he did towards Sybil, Jessica and Kate. He paid heavily for his folly. His wife accepted a settlement, but it was not so easy to pay off his conscience. Sybil was just magnanimous. She never ever uttered anything against Burton nor ever allowed her children to think it so.

On March 15, Sunday, Elizabeth and Burton charted a plane and flew to Montreal to get married. Laws of Montreal were different and therefore they were able to marry without license. It was a quiet ceremony, performed in their suite at the Ritz Carlton Hotel by a Unitarian ministry with just 10 people attending, including the best man. After a night at Montreal, they left for Toronto for the first opening of Hamlet in Toronto. He was playing the lead in Hamlet. It was becoming a second fiddle and public were just shouting and screaming. In July, rehearsals for Hamlet began. Hamlet was said to have been full of fire, passion and power. It was the most popular production of the season. His best reviews came for his performance in Coriolanus which was a bright hope.

Critics didn’t appreciate his Twelfth Night. He played the part as near naked as anyone ever had to date, which drew howls of shocked outrage from the press. His performance was called obscene and disgusting and The Times refused to review the play unless it had the director’s assurance that Ariel (played by Burton) would be well-dressed for the next performance.

Elizabeth had always lived extravagantly. She was no business woman; earned high salaries than any other actress in the world, yet always running short of money. It came as a shock to Burton. She spent lavishly on clothes and comforts, and the bulk of her fortune went on wages. She employed two secretaries, a photographer, a hairdresser, a servant, a make-up artist, a chauffeur, a tutor of children, a governess, a nanny, and a bodyguard.


Richard donated large sums of money to a variety of causes, many of which were never publicized. The amount of money he spent on Elizabeth’s diamond, he donated to a British children’s educational charity, and the same amount he gave to the United Nations Children’s Fund. Giving away money was one way of reconciling his blatantly capitalist way of life with his innate Socialist principles.

Achievement Of An Actor

Meanwhile, in 1965, Sybil hired a sensational group to play at Arthur’s called The Wild Ones and had fallen in love with its leader, Jordan Christopher. Their marriage meant that Burton would no longer have to pay alimony. Burton would be rich by 50,000 dollars a year.

The Spy Who Came In From The Cold was a film by John Le Carré which took Burton to Dublin, London and Bavaria. Burton played the part of a shabby, disillusioned Spy by the name of Alec Leamas – a character with the face of a man whose body is alive but whose spirit is dying of sickness and self-disgust. This was Burton’s first film for which critics unanimous in praise of his protrayal.

Leonard Mosley wrote in Daily Express: "His performance makes you forgive him for every bad part he has ever played, every good part he has ever messed up, and every indiscretion he has ever committed off the screen or on. If he doesn’t win an Oscar for it this year there is not only no justice left in Hollywood, but no judgment either." Burton won an award from the British Film Academy for his performances in both The Spy... and Virginia Woolf. Virginia Woolf earned the producers, neat sums of money. Often it was released with their cut of the takings, it also earned a Hollywood Oscar for Elizabeth's performance.

Elizabeth did not share Sybil’s attitude to infidelity – physical or mental. She was not prepared to turn a blind eye at anything, becoming insanely jealousy if she caught him looking at another woman. Burton was even more possessive about Elizabeth. His ego needed constant attention and Elizabeth was not a woman to provide it. She had an ego of her own, which needed to be taken care off. She enjoyed the idea of nesting with Burton and tending his needs, and genuinely loved him in all earnestness. She tried very hard but Burton was not an easy man to live with. Elizabeth then, was a bigger star – earned more money, drew bigger audiences and was far, far more famous.

Burton’s insecurity ran too deeply to be patched up by millions of pounds, and his ultimate solution to any problem in his life was to escape. The only way to escape, he knew was to drink. He and Elizabeth were bound only because of the children. Their drinking spree would touch competitive heights with fights over who could drink more than the other. Their marital problems were too severe to be ignored for long. One more film together about an unhappy marriage, in which they played bickering husband and wife, was the proverbial last straw in their separation. Two films on break-up of marriage they worked on were, Divorce His and Divorce Hers.

On July 3, 1973, Elizabeth announced to the world that she and Burton had separated. She then said: "I am convinced it would be a good and constructive idea if Burton and I separated for a while." Burton, meanwhile, stopped drinking. After the separation they met briefly in Rome. Within four months, they met when Elizabeth underwent an operation for the removal of an ovarian cyst in Los Angeles and Burton went to see her. They flew to Gstaad for Christmas in a blaze of love and togetherness. By April 1974, they were on opposite sides of the world and the divorce was on.

Never Parted From Heart

The marriage was over but Burton and Elizabeth’s emotional involvement with one another never died. Richard said: "We are flesh of flesh, bone one of one bone". Richard drank heavily from the time he woke up in the morning, till he went to bed at night. He lived in such a state for six months. He was taken to St. John’s Hospital in Santa Monica, a special therapy clinic, where he was warned that if he carried on drinking he would be dead within two weeks. For the next four weeks, he was gradually off alcohol, but it was a painful and an undignified process, and when he came out, he vowed he would never drink again. He habitually smoked about 60 cigarettes a day.

Richard became preoccupied with a new love affair and he started drinking once again. This time it was Princess Elizabeth of Yugoslavia, first cousin of the Duke of Kent, Princess Alexandra and Prince Michael. The affair lasted less than six months. She was madly in love with him, but he dropped her for Elizabeth Taylor again.

They were the same people that they had been when they divorced, with the same personalities, the same insecurities, same egos, same needs and none of them were ready to compromise or change themselves. Throughout December, Burton was in and out of the Wellington Clinic. His health was poor, his career was in doldrums and his marriage, the second time with Elizabeth in October 1975, turned out to be a disaster.

The force that bound Burton and Elizabeth was too strong to be broken by divorce. They never got married again, but for the next eight years of his life, they were seldom out of touch for long. Burton played in Equus on Broadway. Equus got an Oscar nomination. A month after Equus closed, Richard came to know


about Stanley’s death due to lung cancer. He was shattered. Only weeks before, he had spoken to Stanley on telephone. Soon, Richard wrote a telegram to Ellen: "Can’t think, can’t sleep, can’t speak. I am shattered. Can’t get my thoughts together. You must forgive me, I don’t know what to say. Devastated. My heart goes out to you and the children. If I can help, if I can help, if I can help. All lone, Richard." Few weeks later, he wrote a tribute to Stanley, ‘Lament for a Dead Welshman’ which appeared in the Observer. Burton used to say that if anything happened to Stanley, he would be second father to Sally, but he hadn’t been able to cope with Sally’s grief any better than he could cope with his own.
New Marriage

Meanwhile, he met Susan with an unhappy marriage. She was 27 years old, tall, blonde and stunningly beautiful. Suzy wanted nothing more than to be a wife, to build a home and to have children. Her morale was at an all-time low. Despite the age difference Richard and Susan were a perfect foil for each other. Susan was unambitious. She had been a model, and she enjoyed mixing with the fashionable, but she didn’t crave fame or fortune. She was warm and gentle.

Burton and Susan married on August 21, 1976. They bought a house on the island of Antigua. Susan was straightforward, and happy to sit and listen to Burton. She also took interest in his career. Burton met Susan’s family. Burton and his father-in-law, Frederick Miller, became great friends. In the long run, Burton acknowledged that without Susan, he would have probably died. However, she received little thanks for her labors.

In 1980, he was working with Tatum O’Neal, Ryan O’Neal’s 16-year-old daughter, on a film in Toronto, Circle of Two. She was his youngest leading lady and it shook him to be playing love scenes with someone 38 years his junior - even younger than his own children.

Critics reviewed his return to Camelot with mixed enthusiasm. Burton’s acting was being scrutinized. He had frequently spoken in press about his fight against alcohol. Public was closely watching to see whether he had indeed beaten drinking. Up to an extent he had given up, yet occasionally, he took a glass of white wine. Two nights prior to the opening in Toronto, he had dinner with Alan Jay Lesner and Edna O’Brien. Susan was not present there. Richard was tempted and had some Perrier.

A week after the show opened on Broadway, in seconds as if, Richard had succumbed. He could scarcely walk or talk, staggering and slussing his way through the first ten minutes on stage. He brought a complete halt halfway through the first act. Till organizers brought the curtains down, the audience shouted ‘Give him another drink.’

Susan took him home and put him to bed, while the public stormed the box office demanding return of their money even as his understudy took over. Photographers rushed on his hotel doorsteps and the press debated whether or not he was back to the demonic drink. He strongly denied he had been drinking. He claimed that he had taken a mixture of drugs that had made him ill.

The next night, he was back on stage, terrified about the reception he would get from the audience. As soon as he entered the stage, public gave him a three and a half minute ovation. Richard could feel the support and warmth of audience.

Burton could not lift his right arm up. He got it diagnosed for a pinched nerve at the base of his neck. He was on diet and medication. Susan cared for him all the time. She became his nurse and also took over his make-up from Rom Berkley. She also took the position of his dresser. He lost 30 pounds in a year and dropped his weight from 172 pounds to 142 pounds. He was physically and mentally burnt out and it was very visible from his physical appearance.

In March 1981, Burton collapsed. Suffering from a viral infection and chronic pain in her arms, he was whisked into St. John’s Hospital in Santa Monica. A team of four surgeons concluded that his entire spinal column was coated with crystallized alcohol, which had to be scraped before he could rebuild the vertebrae in his neck. He had to undergo a delicate operation, carrying the inevitable risk of paralysis. Susan camped with him warmly as a mother, while Elizabeth sent him flowers.

By January 1982, Richard’s marriage with Susan was in trouble. For Susan, it was the end of the tether and a state of exhaustion. He worked for Wagner when temperature at Vienna was –14° F for he was very professional. He didn’t drink and gave every shot in just one take. By the third week, he started drinking. Meanwhile, he received a telex from Susan asking for divorce. Burton, who was always in touch with Elizabeth, soon informed Elizabeth about it. They talked from two or three in the morning for an hour or more, falling in and out of love, fighting, shouting, slamming and bunked down. It was soon assumed by press that once again it was time for Richard’s third marriage with Elizabeth.

This was a strong blow to his life as it also meant him to be, all alone. He was sad with no physical and emotional strength, lost without a wife and in search of someone with whom he could talk. He was dead to the world, and remained to for the rest of the day and most of the night. During his stay at Venice, a woman journalist Judith Chisholm, found her way up to his suite, was all alone and within minutes shared both his bar and bed.

When he was in Hungary and Budapest, another female journalist found her way to Burton. She was known to him when he was filming Bluebeard, 10 years ago. At this sensitive time, he met this 34-year-old Sally Hay. She had been a production assistant at the BBC and Thames Television. She was unmarried, unsophisticated, unattractive, but enthusiastic. She was also sympathetic towards his obsession with alcohol. She accompanied Burton when he went to see Elizabeth in The Little Foxes.

Burton said: "I don’t know when my next wedding day will be, but the bride will be Sally." She made the journey to Pontrhydyfen to meet Burton’s family and when Wagner came to an end, she accompanied him to Celigny and America, where Burton was readmitted to the hospital in Santa Monica, for a check-up of his back.


Sally was reborn with new make-up, hairstyle and clothes. She became conscious of her image as she was Mrs Burton in the making. She and Burton slipped quietly away to Las Vegas for a weekend and were married. In the presidential suite of the Frontier Hotel, Sally Hay, 22 years his junior, became the fifth Mrs Burton. But the fire within Burton had gone out. He no longer seemed to have any enthusiasm for life. Yet, he continued to fantasize about the future.
On August 5, 1984, he was rushed to hospital with a cerebral hemorrhage. He was taken to Contonal Hospital in Geneva, where he went straight into an emergency operation. At 1.15 p.m., the one who was described as imperishable by Emlyn Williams, was declared dead. He was 58 then.

Sally crossed over a brief phase of grief. From her relationship with Burton, she earned all what she wanted – a man she adored, two luxurious homes, publicity, financial security and colorful life. Sally informed everyone who were once related to Burton, including Elizabeth and Sybil. He was buried as he lived – a Welshman. He was dressed from top to toe in red, his national color. Elizabeth did not go to the graveside, but instead sent a single red rose with no message. It was also said that he never was wedded to anybody else other than Elizabeth. She made a pilgrimage, a week later. She first went to visit Richard’s grave at Celigny and then to see his family at Pontrhydyfen. She was profoundly shattered by his death, and so was Susan.