His Health

in letters to his wife, Ruth Howard

"In 1926, when only thirty-three, he was writing to my mother, 'I seem to have a strange numbness in my left thumb; I do hope this doesn't mean some form of creeping paralysis!'" A Quite Remarkable Father, pg. 7

On a trip to Corsica with friends in the 1920s, Howard wrote home: "Why did I ever leave my little family? Last night on the ship I had one of my 'attacks' and was quite prostrated today. I think I scared the others to death and they are now very worried about me." A Quite Remarkable Father, pg. 8

Leslie Howard's diary entries:

Thursday, 28th February: Most of day occupied in trying to get rid of unholy headache acquired God knows how. Drive through mud to see unspeakably beastly shack with doddering fool of estate agent. Made headache much worse. Very annoyed. Train very late to town. Bored with performance. More headache—stomach probably deranged. Ruth meets train and car won't start. End of perfect day.

Friday, 7th March: Missed drawing lesson on account of water on the knee. Another memorable day for the poor cat who, having produced four dusky offspring, has three of them destroyed by Ruth with spartan ruthlessness. Justifiable kittencide! One consolation in being human—one can have fourteen with impunity. Perhaps the cat is better off after all.

Wednesday/Thursday, 1st May: Rehearse. Exasperating leading woman being bad actress and congenital idiot combined. Horribly fatigued. [Reginald] Mason out, Warburton Gamble in.

Saturday, 3rd May: Ten actors at rehearsal! Leading woman last word in B.Fs. Laryngitis appears imminent. Outward Bound to close next Saturday.

Sunday, 4th May: Conviction about laryngitis confirmed. Speechless! Take a long rest at last.

Trivial Fond Records, pgs. 41-48 

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