*****************************************************************************

*                         T A Y L O R O L O G Y                             *

*  A Continuing Exploration of the Life and Death of William Desmond Taylor *

*                                                                           *

*  Issue 48 -- December 1996        Editor: Bruce Long       bruce@asu.edu  *

*                   TAYLOROLOGY may be freely distributed                   *

*****************************************************************************

                         CONTENTS OF THIS ISSUE:

                            Kathlyn Williams

*****************************************************************************

                          What is TAYLOROLOGY?

TAYLOROLOGY is a newsletter focusing on the life and death of William Desmond

Taylor, a top Paramount film director in early Hollywood who was shot to

death on February 1, 1922. His unsolved murder was one of Hollywood's major

scandals.  This newsletter will deal with: (a) The facts of Taylor's life;

(b) The facts and rumors of Taylor's murder; (c) The impact of the Taylor

murder on Hollywood and the nation; (d) Taylor's associates and the Hollywood

silent film industry in which Taylor worked. Primary emphasis will be given

toward reprinting, referencing and analyzing source material, and sifting it

for accuracy.

*****************************************************************************

*****************************************************************************

                            Kathlyn Williams

                                    

Kathlyn Williams was one of the first prominent motion picture actresses, and

she continued to act in supporting roles throughout the silent film era.

She starred in the first American serial, "The Adventures of Kathlyn," and

was in the original classic silent film "The Spoilers."  William Desmond

Taylor directed her in three films, and she was married to Charles Eyton,

who was the studio manager for Famous Players-Lasky where Taylor worked.

Kathlyn Williams' signature appears on Taylor's death certificate; she is the

one who officially identified Taylor's body after his murder.  The following

are some interviews and articles tracing the silent film career of 

Kathlyn Williams.



      * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

                                                               April 20, 1912

                                                             NEW YORK CLIPPER

     Kathlyn Williams, whose picture appears on the front page of this issue,

is one of the bright lights among the most noted motion picture players, and

now appearing with the Selig Stock Co., when interviewed by our

representative gave the following interesting narrative regarding her early

ambitions as an actress, and later as a motion picture artist.

     "My desire to go on the stage became my life's ambition when I was about

eight years old, after seeing my first play.  My mother and friends laughed

at the idea as a childish whim, but as time went on and I became an amateur

of some note in my home town, Butte, Mont., my mother became worried and sent

me to Wesleyan University, thinking a rigid religious school would change my

views.  The love of the stage was too firmly rooted, however, to make me

alter my determination.

     "During a vacation I had an opportunity of appearing for a short while

in a stock company in Butte.  My acting appeared to please my townspeople so

well that the newspapers spoke highly of my feeble efforts.  Through this I

was brought to the notice of Senator Clark, who has helped so many boys and

girls to realize their ambitions.  My desire was to study for the stage in

New York or Europe.  The senator consented to help me on condition that I

finish my last year at Wesleyan, and during that year I won a medal for

elocution.

     "The next Fall found me enrolled in Sergeant's School for Acting, when I

found out what the stage really meant, hard work, heartaches and

disappointments.  I worked hard, as I wanted to justify the senator's faith

in me.  After finishing there I went out as leading lady in 'When We Were

Twenty-One.'  Then began the real hard work and real disappointments.  The

horrors of one night stands and catching early trains was enough to take the

energy out of a less ambitious person.  But nothing daunted, I went out

season after season with the same jumps and same one night stands.  Then I

tried stock.  There another horror confronted me: wardrobe and studying.

I felt I was not doing myself justice.  It was all work and no play, and I

was almost in despair.  Why I never had enough fresh air and seldom saw the

sun, when, lo and behold! a new field was opened: 'Moving Pictures.'"

     With this came a twinkle in the soft blue eye that spoke her happy frame

of mind and made her interviewer eager to learn the real cause of her perfect

contentment.  Glancing about her cordial surroundings, she gave vent to a

bewitching smile and said:

     "Here was a new field where conditions were almost perfect, with nothing

but fresh air, sunshine and real country with real trees and grass, things I

had only seen through dust-dimmed car windows.  It is early to bed and early

to rise, and we certainly are healthier, wealthier and wiser.  The work is

absolutely fascinating--there is a change all the time; each picture is a new

character and each character one creates one's self.  No following in the

footsteps of the actor or actress who created the part.  If you have the

right conception of the part, your producer is only too glad to give your

imagination full sway, but woe unto him who thinks he knows it all.

     "One's first picture will take more egotism out of one than all the

critics.  One sees himself as other see him, and is quite willing to

acknowledge that the producer knows what he is talking about and what he

wants.  Don't imagine that you can slight your work, nor that you do not need

to take the situation seriously--the camera does not lie, and the result is

sometimes startling.  The opportunity to improve one's self is limitless.

What more can you want than to see yourself act?  Then the different

characters one portrays.  There are characters I have always wanted to try.

I could be in stock for years and never have the opportunity to play more

than one line.  In motion pictures one tries them all.

     "Oh, how I have enjoyed some of my roles.  Nora, in 'The Witch of the

Everglades,' and 'Lost in the Jungle,' are two roles I have enjoyed most.

The characters are as different as they could possibly be.

     "'Lost in the Jungle' was particularly interesting to me as we used an

elephant and many beautiful leopards.  That you may have an idea of the story

of this particular picture and more readily realize the wonderful experience

we had in making it, I would say I played the part of a girl living fifty

miles in the interior of Africa with her father.  She refuses to marry the

man her father has chosen so he turns her from the house.  She tries to go

through the jungle to the next neighbor, twenty miles away, but gets lost.

Faint and exhausted, she lies down to rest and while resting is attacked by a

leopard but mortally wounds it with a knife which she carries, and escapes,

although badly hurt.  In the meantime a work elephant on her father's place

escapes from his keeper who has been cruel to him, and goes to the jungle.

The girl, seeing him come toward her, speaks to him.  Recognizing the voice

of his only friend, he comes to her.  She commands him to kneel, staggers to

her feet, and half-fainting, falls across his trunk, and with his trunk he

assists her up to his head and starts home with her.

     "Toddles, the elephant used, has the reputation of having killed two of

his keepers, so our producer was afraid to have me try and wanted me to use a

dummy figure.  Realizing how much more real it would be to have it true to

life, I was anxious to try, and always having been fond of animals,

especially wild ones, I set to work to win Toddles as my friend.  Knowing the

surest way was through his stomach I began visiting him daily with fruit.  In

fact every time I passed I would have something until at last he began to

know me, and whenever he would see me he would trumpet and call, and I was

always prepared.  After some weeks of this we began our real work.  I would

lie down within easy reach of him, command him to kneel and then to assist me

to my feet with his trunk.  Whenever he did what I wanted I gave him an

orange.  How quickly he understood.  At last he would allow me to get on his

head.  Oh!  He was splendid, and I felt as safe up there as on the ground.

It took a month to accomplish this, but it was fascinating work.

     "Then came Tom, the leopard, and my real work.  He has been trained to

jump over me.  He apparently jumps at me, but really jumps over me.  He did

it beautifully the first time, and I had more confidence than before.  The

second time I was late in my action of falling.  I just had time to cover my

face when I felt his sharp claws sink in my head, but I kept perfectly still

--not an easy thing to do under the circumstances--but that probably saved me

from more serious injury.  The trainer was there, and after one crack of the

whip he was off me.  I was not badly hurt--only a few scratches and a little

nervous, and it was a new experience.

     "When the public sees that picture there is not one in a hundred will

believe that it was a real leopard that jumped over me, but will think it a

big dog, painted up.  They figure it out to suit themselves and little

realize the chance we take.  Every picture with character in it is taken from

actual life and at a great expense, as everything is made as real as

possible."

     At this moment the producer announced that the scene was ready, and our

interview was at an end, as the little blonde lady passed hurriedly out to

the studio, and bidding the writer a good afternoon, apologized for taking up

too much of his time with remark: "the gong saved you: I never know when to

stop talking when telling of the happiness and pleasure I derive from being a

picture player."



      * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

                                                             October 12, 1912

                                                                   MOTOGRAPHY

                    About that Hydroaeroplane Mishap

                                    

     For the past two weeks, the Chicago branch of the Selig Motion Picture

Company has been busily engaged in the production of an aviation picture that

promises to be thrilling.  Miss Kathlyn Williams, the always popular leading

woman of the Selig Company and Max Lillie and Beckwith Havens, well known

aviators, are the principal players in the unique subject.  During the recent

Chicago air meet at Cicero park, Miss Williams made several flights in the

biplane of Lillie, as his passenger.  These scenes were all recorded by the

Selig cameras as part of the picture.  After the Cicero meet, the aviators

moved their machines down to Grant park on the lake front of Chicago, for the

hydroaeroplane meet.  Beckwith Havens was engaged by the Selig Company to

complete the scenes required for the picture.  Henry McRae, one of the Selig

producers, and Stanly Twist, of the business department, were supervising the

production.  Everything went well until the last day of the meet.  Miss

Williams made several successful flights with Havens in his hydroaeroplane in

front of the cameras without mishap.  On Sunday, the last day of the meet,

the producers prepared to secure the climax scene, in which Miss Williams,

adrift in a disabled motorboat, far out at sea, is rescued from her perilous

position by Havens in his hydroaeroplane.  When all preparations had been

completed and the event was about to be enacted, McRae and Twist were told by

the Aero Club officials that they would have to wait until Havens had

completed all of the events in which he was entered, before they could

produce the required scene.  Only one event remained to be completed and

Havens was the only one entered in it.  This was the grand prize trophy

event.  In order to win it, the aviator was required to circle the mile crib

eight times, carrying with him a passenger.  When Havens began to look around

for the necessary passenger to accompany him, there was none to be found.

Nobody seemed anxious to take a chance in such a race.  As the afternoon

light was fading rapidly and the picture had to be completed before dusk that

day, Mr. Twist volunteered his services, in order to secure Havens for the

remaining scenes in motion pictures.  Dressing himself in aviator clothes,

Twist climbed into the passenger's seat and they were off for the trophy

race.  Several rounds were made without mishap and many thousands of people

were excitedly watching the maneuvers of the air craft, when suddenly those

on shore saw the nose of Haven's pontoon strike the water and the machine

turned a complete somersault on the lake surface.  Twist was thrown through

the air for about fifteen feet before he struck the water.  Havens clung to

the wrecked machine, but Twist started to swim the half mile between himself

and shore, not taking into consideration the fact that his heavy booths and

clothing would soon weigh him down.  After proceeding about fifty yards he

began to feel exhausted and would undoubtedly have met with a more serious

fate, if Miss Williams, who had been waiting in the motor boat outside the

crib breakwater, and who had been a witness to the accident, had not had the

presence of mind to put on full speed and race to the rescue of the sinking

man.  When Twist was rescued by Miss Williams, he was on the point of

exhaustion but outside of a severe chill and a few bruises, he suffered no

ill effects.  A funny coincidence connected with the affair is the fact that

Twist, who is also press agent of the Selig Company, had planned a unique

press story in connection with the event.  When the originally planned press

stunt was brought to a sudden end by the accident, the amount of space that

the Selig company secured in the daily papers throughout the country, more

than made up for the experience that the players underwent.  Another

hydroaeroplane was secured the next day and the picture was finished.



      * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

                                                             November 9, 1912

                                                                   MOTOGRAPHY

     Miss Kathlyn Williams has gone to the Los Angeles studio of the Selig

Company where she is ready to begin work in a series of wild animal film

stories.  En route to the studio city, she stopped at her father's home in El

Paso, where she was lavishly entertained during her short stop-over.  At her

arrival at the Edendale studio of the Selig house, she was given an impromptu

reception at which she was heartily welcomed back after her two years'

affiliation with the Chicago studio.

      * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

                                                              January 4, 1913

                                                             Kathlyn Williams

                                                         MOVING PICTURE WORLD

     Kathlyn Williams, Selig's leading woman, has a new hobby.  She is

learning to be an aviatoress, or an aviatoreaux or an aviatrice--anyhow,

she's learning to run a flying machine.  She has been making frequent ascents

with Glenn Martin who says he is one of the most promising pupils he has ever

had, and who thinks she will be ready to try it alone in a month or so.

      * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

                                                               March 15, 1913

                                                                   MOTOGRAPHY

     Miss Kathlyn Williams, leading woman of the Selig Polyscope company was

married on the afternoon of March 4, to Frank R. Allen, an actor.

     Allen is 39 and Miss Williams is 28.  She is known as the "California

Venus."  A den of wildcats is said to have played a part in this "movies"

romance.  A clever office boy had written a scenario which involved a venture

into a wild animal cage, and the film was made out at the wild animal farm

near Eastlake Park.  Miss Williams ventured into the cage of wildcats while

Allen stood outside.  It was a perilous moment, and Allen knew then for the

first time from the way his heart jumped up into his throat that he loved the

heroine.  Miss Williams' intuition probably let her in on the secret even

before that.  Anyhow, the wild-cat scene helped to precipitate matters and

the almost-immediate marriage followed.



      * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

[Kathlyn Williams was selected to lead the grand march at the 1914 

Photoplayers' Club St. Valentine's Ball.  See TAYLOROLOGY #47.]

      * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

                                                                   April 1914

                                                             Kathlyn Williams

                                                                    PHOTOPLAY

     ...In "Lost in the Jungle" I had to lie with my face hidden behind a log

until my director gave me the signal to raise up.  I thought he had forgotten

and raised my head as a leopard jumped over the log.  Scared at my sudden

appearance, the leopard struck as he passed over me, and although I ducked,

I sustained a bad scalp wound.  But I blamed myself, not the leopard...



      * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

                                                                   April 1914

                                                               Richard Willis

                                                                    PHOTOPLAY

                          Kathlyn the Intrepid

                                    

     In private life Kathlyn Williams furnishes a genuine surprise.  So

closely associated has she been of late with deeds of daring and dangerous

exploits that one expects to find a dashing, mannish woman arrayed in more or

less masculine attire.  So it is almost disconcerting to find a decidedly

womanly lady, quietly but tastefully dressed and one whose charm is increased

by a beautifully modulated voice.

     We got right down to business, and I was permitted to smoke.

     "Give me some particulars of your early life," I asked her.

     "That is easy and brief," said Miss Williams.  "I was born at Butte,

Montana, where my father was a mining man.  We moved to Helena, where I had

my early schooling.  I was an only child."

     "Spoiled?" I queried.

     "Not more than other 'only' children," she answered with a smile, "but I

had a will of my own.  I grew up in an atmosphere of animals and music, for

my mother was an accomplished musician and possessed a beautiful voice, which

she used freely for the benefit of charity and at concerts.  But she never

sang professionally."

     "Then you do not inherit your talent for acting?"

     "No, but mother gave me her artistic temperament, and I often think that

father's vocation prepared me for the many hard knocks I have had from time

to time.  I had a fine voice myself as a child and the chief desire of my

mother's heart was that I should be a great singer.  But I silently treasured

a longing for the stage--I always had that.  I studied elocution and voice

culture at the Wesleyan University at Helena and frequently sang at concerts,

and Senator Clark took a great interest in my welfare.  I tried hard to

persuade him to help me get to New York, but he joined with my mother in

insisting that I remain and finish my schooling.  So I kept right on with my

elocution and did a lot of secret studying, for my girl's heart was quite

made up--I would go on the stage.  I was happy there, too," and Miss Williams

smiled reflectively.

     I left her alone awhile, back in the old school with her companions, and

then broke the charm.

     "And then?"

     "Oh! excuse me.  I was quite lost, wasn't I?  Well, then came the great

event of my life when I started for the metropolis with the assistance of

Senator Clark.  Once there I soon found that my mother's dreams would not

come true.  That wonderful teacher and woman, Madame Shaw, told me plainly

that I had mistreated and overused my voice and that I would never make a

great singer.  My mother was bitterly disappointed, dear soul, but I was

secretly relieved.  The operatic career did not appeal to me at all."

     "So you returned to the mines and mother?"

     "I did not," returned Miss Williams emphatically.  "I stayed on and

entered the Sargent school of acting, sometimes called the Empire.  It was a

fine school and I made great progress, and after two years of hard work I

passed successfully, with five others, out of a class of over forty pupils.

The other five have done well, though I do not remember all their names.

Doris Keane was one and Martin Brown was another."

     "Then you went home and --"

     Miss Williams stopped me.  "This is my story.  Light that cigar again

and let me ramble on in my own way.  My first engagement was with William

Morris in 'When We Were Twenty-One,' and after a while I followed Maxine

Elliott in the part and was starred in it and played in it for two years.

And then I took that home rest you are so anxious about."

     "Ah, I knew it was coming," I muttered.

     "Why?"

     "Oh, because it is easy to see you are a home lover by your

surroundings, and that dog is used to that very spot by your chair, and you

have the pictures of your friends around you."

     "Yes, I love home and spend all my time between it and the studios."

     "What came after the vacation?" I asked.

     "I joined the Willard Mack stock company at Salt Lake City and then came

to Los Angeles and played at the Belasco Theatre.  And it was while acting

there that I received a telephone call from David Griffith of the Biograph to

call and see him.  He wanted me to take a special part in one of his

pictures.  I was most indignant; how dare anyone even suggest that I would so

lower myself as to play for the screen?  I would not have gone at all, but a

friend suggested that I look into it 'for fun;' and that is exactly the

spirit that I was in when I first met Mr. Griffith.  I had my nose very much

in the air, and Mr. Griffith saw that I did not take kindly to the idea.  But

he had met people like me before, and he persuaded me to try it out.

     "I remember the first day's work.  We finished late and I was informed

that no tickets would be issued.  I was to have received $10, by the way.

Then I knew I was foolish, and that I would never receive my pay.  But the

next night I was handed twenty dollars, to my surprise.  Isn't it funny the

ideas we all have about pictures before we go into them?"

     I joined in the laugh, for I have met many actors and actresses who have

felt the same way about motion picture acting; I did the same myself.

     "Now tell me something about your picture experiences," I requested.

     "I was so much impressed with the treatment I received at the hands of

Mr. Griffith and at my surroundings that I was in a receptive mood when it

came to talking about a regular salary.  I joined, and have been working in

pictures ever since, and that covers a period of five years.  Over four years

of this have been spent with Selig, for David Griffith gave me a personal

introduction to Mr. Selig, and I went over to his company.  I have worked for

the Selig firm in Chicago and Jacksonville and in Los Angeles.  By the way,

in the first picture I acted in with Biograph I was a heavy and played

opposite to Dell Henderson, and Marion Leonard was the heroine.  I also

believe that I acted in the first multiple-reel ever put on, and was in 'Ten

Nights in a Bar-Room,' which was put on at Jacksonville.  I took the

emotional part, of course.  I also played in my first animal picture down

there in Florida."

     "Do you like the animal pictures?" I asked her.

     "Yes, I do.  I ought to, considering the added popularity they have

brought me.  But my heart is in tense dramatic work, and I love mystical and

psychological photoplays more than any others.  Here is something that I have

never breathed before.  In years to come I look forward to putting on my own

photoplays, in my own way."

     "Do you think that women make successful producers or directors?" I

asked, quizzically.

     Miss Williams took issue with me promptly.  "Yes, I honestly believe

that women pay far more attention to details than men, and that counts for a

lot, you know.  I believe that women would make as big a success directing as

men, if given the right chances and opportunity.  You know I produced two or

three of my own photoplays, do you not?"

     I acknowledged my ignorance.

     "One in particular, 'Balu, the Leopard's Foundling,' was a great

success.  I wrote the play, produced it, and took the lead--a wild girl

brought up with the leopards.  There were some excellent effects in it, and a

leopard ran at me and put its head on my shoulder at the right moment.  Isn't

that enough for you?"

     "Not quite.  What are your likes and dislikes?"

     "I dislike being interviewed for one, and housework for another.  I like

home and books, and then more books, animals of every shape, size and color,

and everything connected with the glorious out-of-doors.  I am a rabid

baseball fan, and like fencing.  Music is a passion with me, and one of my

dearest friends is Signor Ruggiero Leoncavallo, who always sends me his

compositions.  Then I love pretty frocks and the society of nice, sensible

women.  There is my automobile, which must not be forgotten.  Motoring is my

favorite outdoor recreation.  Is that enough?"

     "Nearly; but tell me if you ever want to get back to the stage?"

     "Yes.  We all do, you know, but the pictures fascinate me, too.  I would

like to return and play another part like Mrs. Dane in 'Mrs. Dane's Defense.'

It was my favorite part, I think.

     "My picture experiences have taught me, however, that seeing myself in

moving pictures is the most helpful and the most discouraging criticism an

actress can have.  It's the severe test of looking at yourself from the

outside and at a distance.

     "Mannerisms positively stare at you from a picture, when they would pass

unnoticed on the stage.  The searching light of the picture camera seems to

have reveled in your faults.

     "Daylight hours, the opportunity to live at home, the wonderful variety

of characters and the opportunity for study are the chief inducements the

pictures afford a player.  And then, I like being a Photoplayer because I

like doing the difficult, unexpected things.  The strenuous but ever

fascinating work is also the finest course in figure development I know of.

Practically every day since I joined the Selig Company I have indulged freely

in horseback riding, walking, tennis, golf or some such form of recreation,

in addition to the daily studio work.

     "Mr. Selig and the studio officials always encourage the players in this

respect, and half of our time is spent out in the open.  A healthy, athletic

life contributes more toward physical perfection than any other one thing,

and there is no country in the world where this can be more surely guaranteed

than right here in the United States.

     "Let me see if there is anything else.  Oh, yes, I write scenarios at

times, and have had several produced.  'Balu' was one, and 'What Kitty Did'

was another."

     "Well, I guess I'll let you off now," I said.

     "My, I have forgotten the most important thing of all," broke in the

lady.  "My aviation experiences.  I am really fascinated with flying, and one

of these days I mean to fly regularly.  I have taken a number of lessons with

Glenn Martin and am quite an expert, I can assure you.  I had my first flight

with poor Max Lillie in Chicago.  He was killed later, and I was so sorry.

He was a nice fellow.  We went up a thousand feet and I lost all sense of

fear after the first few minutes.  Then, I believe I was the first woman ever

to fly in a hydro-aeroplane.  Yes, the strange sensation of flying through

space fascinates me.

     "No, I am not afraid.

     "Look," she whispered, as I started toward the door, "hardly anyone

knows my life is charmed!  See my talisman?"

     And she lifted into the light a tiny bit of ivory, wonderfully carved in

the shape of a fish.  It is the gift of a woman who saw Kathlyn Williams on a

screen in a remote little hamlet in England.

     Then I left this handsome lady with the blonde hair and the intrepid

blue eyes--left her smiling and patting Boris, the son of an English bulldog

which cost $10,000.  Boris was presented to Miss Williams by Mr. Selig.

I enjoyed the chat immensely, and she made it so pleasant and easy for me.

I join the general public--I like Kathlyn Williams.



      * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

                                                               March 13, 1915

                                                                   MOTOGRAPHY

                     Kathlyn Williams Visits Chicago

                                    

     Together with Director Colin Campbell and his wife, Miss Kathlyn

Williams, the leading lady of the Selig Polyscope Company, stopped in Chicago

this week on her way to Los Angeles from Panama, via New York, and though she

had just completed one part of the tiresome journey across the continent and

had the remainder directly before her, she was in the happiest of moods when

seen by a MOTOGRAPHY interviewer.  Of course, like the conventional

interviewer always does, he asked her what role she liked best, expecting her

to say "Kathlyn" without hesitation.

     "While I fully enjoyed my part in the 'Adventures of Kathlyn,'" she

replied to the question, "I cannot in justice to my other roles say that I

liked it best.  Every play presents a new problem and I really think that I

work just as hard and am just as dissatisfied with myself in every character

for which I am cast.  The part of Mrs. Van Courtland in 'The Ne'er Do Well,'

which we filmed in Panama, suits me perfectly, for it gives me a chance to do

a sort of character-heavy part, much like Cherry in 'The Spoilers.'"

     Miss Williams' mail was delivered at this time and she paused a moment

to sort it over.  A number of letters from "fans" were forwarded my mistake

and this caused the delightful "Diamond S" lead to remark that one of the

pleasing trials of a screen actress' life was the receiving of many letters

every day.  "Some of the letters are really helpful," she said, "for the

writers are earnest students of the screen, while others express admiration.

They are all a source of great inspiration to me."

     "Would you advise young women to study the art of silent rather than

strait dramatic action," the interviewer queried, knowing that Miss Williams'

advice on this question would interest thousands of girls who aspired to

become actresses.

     "Unless a girl has talent I would not advise her to enter dramatic work

at all," she replied, "but if the talent is there and is backed by ambition

and determination to succeed, plus personality, I certainly would not

discourage her.  I think that training in a dramatic school or in a stock

company under a good director is really essential for success in pictures,

though many have made good without it.  So many young girls ask me that

question and I tell them all of my own experience.  I attended dramatic

school and then toured with several dramatic companies.  After that I worked

in stock in Salt Lake City and Los Angeles and then entered pictures with the

Selig Company, where I have been for six years."



      * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

                                                                June 24, 1916

                                                         MOVING PICTURE WORLD

                            Real Reel Romance

                                    

     Stage lovers, film fans, and friends of Kathlyn Williams, Selig featured

star, will be agreeably surprised to learn of her marriage, which took place

in Riverside, near here, one Friday, June 2.  Charles F. Eyton, a well-known

picture manager, is the bridegroom.  Mr. Eyton and Miss Williams, accompanied

by relatives and close friends, departed for Riverside at noon and were

married at 5:30.  The ceremony was performed by the Rev. I. D. Van Arnan in

the rectory of the First Methodist Episcopal Church.  The bridal party

comprised Juan De La Cruz, Mr. and Mrs. Robert Von Saxman, Mr. and Mrs. Al

Filson and Mr. and Mrs. Ed. J. LeSaint.

     Miss Williams is one of the bright stars of filmland, beloved from the

Atlantic to the Pacific by that great army of Americans who march daily upon

the moving picture theaters of the country.  Mr. Eyton is one of the owners

of the Oliver Morosco Photoplay Company, and has been connected with the

local show world for the past sixteen years.

     The marriage was the culmination of a romance that had its inception in

Salt Lake City some ten years ago.  At that time Miss Williams was a member

of the Willard Mack Stock Company, which was playing in the Utah city.  Fate

sent Mr. Eyton there to overlook a new play, in which Mr. Morosco was

interested.  He met Miss Williams and was greatly attracted by her ability

and beauty.  Shortly afterward they became engaged and the wedding day was

set, when the inevitable "lovers' quarrel" occurred and they drifted along

different paths, only to meet again in this city about a year ago.

     Mr. and Mrs. Eyton left for an extended trip through the Eastern States.

Upon their return they will be at home to their legion of friends at their

home, 858 Bryan Street.

      * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

                                                              August 26, 1916

                                                         MOVING PICTURE WORLD

                     Kathlyn Williams Joins Morosco

                                    

     Kathlyn Williams, the well-known film star who has just resigned from

the Selig Company, has signed a long-term contract to appear under the

Morosco-Pallas brands on the Paramount program.  Promptly upon resigning from

Selig, Miss Williams received four attractive offers to star in big subjects

but decided in favor of Morosco-Pallas in lieu of its standing in the field

and its affiliation with the Paramount program.

     Although Miss Williams today enjoys a country-wide popularity, and

justly so, her success in motion pictures has not been of the "overnight"

variety.  Seven years ago, in company with Mary Pickford, Arthur Johnson,

Henry Walthall, Billy Quirk and other now famous members of the "old guard"

at Biograph under D. W. Griffith, she received her early schooling in the

silent drama.

     In dramatic stock she appeared under the managements of Belasco, Willard

Mack and William Morris, which fitted her well for the demands of the

photoplay.  On leaving Biograph, Miss Williams became associated with the

Selig Company under whose trade-mark she appeared up until her recent

resignation.  In the title role of "The Adventures of Kathlyn" she starred in

the first serial photoplay ever produced, a twenty-six-reel subject, which

resulted in adding many new admirers to her large following.  Among her film

successes are "The Spoilers," "The Rosary," "The Ne'er-Do-Well," "Back to the

Primitive," "The Two Orphans," "Thou Shalt Not Covet," etc.

     The new Morosco-Pallas star has also attained considerable distinction

as a writer and is a member of the Author's League.  Among her offerings in

this field are "Thy Will Be Done," "The Last Dance," "Strange Case of Talmai

Lind" and many others, all of which have been produced.

     Miss Williams will start on her initial subject for the Paramount

program early next month.  The production has already been decided upon and,

it is understood, displays a big theme particularly suited to the dramatic

talents of the star.

      * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

                                                             October 14, 1916

                                                         MOVING PICTURE WORLD

     Kathlyn Williams, the popular Morosco-Pallas star, has just been honored

with an invitation from the Wisconsin State University, to deliver a series

of lectures on the art of making motion pictures.

      * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

                                                                 October 1917

                                                               Frances Denton

                                                                    PHOTOPLAY

                          Kathlyn's Memory Box

                                    

     Kathlyn Williams likes corn beef and cabbage, steak with fried onions,

big round sausages flavored with garlic, Epicetus, (which she says, is a

different kind of food altogether), two little puppies in a box in the best

room upstairs (little pink and white things that didn't have their eyes

open), leopards (with cages or without), Mark Twain, A Child's History of

England, and writing scenarios for George Beban.  She likes to go to the

theatre and laughs in the right places and cries in the right places, too.

She frequently forgets to criticize and seldom forgets to applaud.  All of

which goes to show that Kathlyn Williams is a regular highbrow, and the best

fellow in the world to have "out front" and, incidentally, an actress, with

the emphasis on the ACT--but nobody needs to be told that.

     Kathlyn Williams and George Began are two stars without a spark of

jealousy between them.  Miss Williams has just finished writing a scenario

for George Beban whose talents she praises highly, and he has returned the

compliment by writing a scenario for her.

     (Romance hunters please note:  George Beban has a perfectly good wife

and Kathlyn Williams is married to Charles Eyton, manager of the Morosco

studio, and very happy, thank you.).

     From the scenario she had just written, the conversation drifted to the

moving picture of the future.

     "I wonder," the famous Kathlyn said thoughtfully, "if the pictures we

are making will look as crude a few years from now as those made by the old

Biograph Company look to us know?"

     Kathlyn Williams joined that famous company just a little later than

Mary Pickford, Blanche Sweet and Mae Marsh.  However, she considers herself

very much of a pioneer having been the star of the first serial picture ever

made.  This was the famous Adventures of Kathlyn.  The "Adventures" ran about

fifteen months and many an audience sat with its collective muscles tensed

and its collective mouth wide open, while an "episode" closed with the

heroine standing on the end of a bluff and looking into the face of a yawning

tiger.

     "The worst nuisance of all in those days," said Miss Williams,

reminiscing, "was the trade mark.  It had to appear in every scene.  Remember

how, during some particularly pathetic parting, the circle with "AB" on it,

was always the featured prop?  I only appeared in three pictures with the

Biograph and then I joined Selig.  There you recall the brand was the

'diamond S.'  Once, after the making of a scene in one of our worst

thrillers, Mr. Bosworth and myself were both badly bruised up.  Just as we

were congratulating ourselves on having finished the thing, we discovered

that the property man had forgotten to hang the trademark in a sufficiently

conspicuous place and we had to do it all over again.  Sometimes we would get

miles out on location, discover that the trade-mark had been forgotten, and

be unable to do a moment's work until someone went back and got it."

     Miss Williams was so suspicious of everything connected with the

pictures at the time she met D. W. Griffith, that she was surprised when he

paid for her work.

     "I was playing in stock," she explained.  "One week when I was not

working, someone called me up from the Biograph studio and asked if I would

work two days for them.  I was dreadfully insulted at first, but I went out

of curiosity expecting to be offered about fifty cents a day.  Mr. Griffith

met me and said that he would give me ten dollars a day for two days work.

Frankly, I didn't believe him.  Later, he told me that he had run out of

checks and would pay me in full the next day.  Naturally I thought it was all

a bluff.  The only reason I ever went back to the studio was to see how he

would wiggle out of giving me the money.  That night he gave me two crisp ten

dollar bills and the shock nearly killed me."

     Miss Williams' first picture with Selig was "Mazeppa," in one reel.  It

was very widely advertised and was considered the greatest moving picture

ever made.

     "Imagine a subject like that being put into one reel today," she said.

"Why, almost any company would give nine hundred feet to the wild ride of

Mazeppa alone.  We had a real wild horse, too.  A maverick fifteen years old

that had never been touched by the hand of man.  Some men dragged him down

from the hills for the making of that picture.

     "This sounds like a press-agent story," she added, looking at me with a

deadly-serious expression in her blue eyes, "but it really isn't.  Everyone

has forgotten that picture long ago," I nodded, and she went on.

     "The first three-reel picture was a great sensation.  Nearly everyone in

the business said that the public would never sit through so long a picture

regardless of how good it was. In these days when many a story that could be

told in one reel is put into five, it seems funny to recall those remarks

about 'long' pictures.  This picture was 'Ten Nights in a Bar Room' and, we

thought, cost a fabulous sum.  But the scenery was so flimsy that whenever a

door was closed the whole set would shake.  However, nobody noticed a little

thing like that."

     "Kathlyn" was born in Montana, a country of magnificent distances.  The

permanent effect her early surroundings must have had on her character is

shown in the design of her house, as well as in her every movement.  The

house is built on the side of a hill and has very large rooms, ceilings of

extraordinary height, a wide veranda, and two wide driveways.  Miss Williams'

bedroom is as large as three ordinary rooms.  Her occasional gestures are

always upward and outward, never inward, toward herself.  She talks in a

quiet, straight-forward manner and looks directly at one from clear blue eyes

set rather far apart.

     "What did I want to be when I was a little girl?" she said, repeating my

question.  "Oh, that was funny!  Nearly every girl has wanted to be a nun at

one time and an actress at another, but I wanted to be both at the same time.

It was a very real tragedy to me that I couldn't figure out some way in which

the two could be reconciled.  When I grew to be a little older I realized it

would be absolutely necessary to choose between them.  So, I decided to be an

actress.

     "Kathlyn Williams believes that the costume picture will be the most

popular picture of the future.  This does not necessarily mean the big

spectacle with an involved plot, elaborate processions, and innumerable

characters.  But rather the short dramatic stories that history and the Bible

abound with and the beauty of which is almost invariably lost when changed

from one period to another.

     "Some day," she said, a little wistfully, "I may get a chance to try

with all the best in me to 'put over' the 'tender grace of a day that is

dead' so that people will feel the real romance and humor of it all as I do."



      * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

                                                                February 1920

                                                               Doris Delvigne

                                                               MOTION PICTURE

                       Kathlyn of the Golden West

                                    

     When the maid opened a porch door leading into an exquisite hall with a

Colonial-looking stairway, I was not quite sure whether to inquire for "Miss

Williams" or Mrs. Eyton.  But the old name stuck somehow, and the maid was

evidently quite accustomed to its use.

     In the five minutes' grace which I had before she appeared, I was struck

with the very first intimation of Kathlyn Williams' love of freedom.  Her

rooms are arranged so one might walk about in the dark with no danger of

knocks and bruises.  The big chairs and stuffed davenport are pushed to odd

corners of the room; there is a simplicity in the softly shaded, crushed

mulberry surroundings which is delightful.

     And when she came into the room, her hand extended in greeting, I found

her typically the Western girl.  With the mountains for her inspiration and

the unexplored mines of her native Montana to fire her imagination, she has

not lost that easy sociability, blended with a certain delightful aloofness

which would indicate her pleasure in the society of humankind, but a firm

resolve to live her own life, free from mental intrusions.

     "This morning I had the highest flight I've enjoyed so far," she told

me, enthusiastically.  "We rose to over four thousand feet.  I do love that

feeling of freedom which one just can't get anywhere save in the air.  I hope

to learn to fly alone some day.  It will be a great thing to be alone with

one's thoughts, far away from everything sordid," smiled the beautiful Mrs.

Eyton.

     "Evidently you associate solitude with freedom," I ventured.

     "Cela va sans dire," came the positive answer, with a pretty shrug.

"I'm afraid I'm something of a radical.  I hate oppression in any form--

perhaps that is why I avoid large gatherings when people get together and

talk and talk and talk."

     One has no doubt about the bigness of Kathlyn Williams.  In a way it is

her birthright--she is again so evidently the girl of the West.  And there is

something about the Western-born girl which never enters another's make-up.

You may fetter her with ties, put her in a dramatic school, give her city

environment instead of her dearly loved mountains, but you cannot obliterate

that indefinable air of freedom--her independence and innate dignity.

     "I'm not working constantly, you know," she was saying.  "I did that

years ago in the Selig serials.  Then, too, my marriage to Mr. Eyton makes me

independent, and I enjoy working in the pictures now and then when I can

choose my roles.  I shall never give up pictures entirely, but I do want

little vacations in between, when I can keep house, enjoy our home and

aviate."

     We drifted back to the days when Miss Williams had done "The Spoilers,"

journeying to Panama, where the company worked for eight weeks.  ["The

Spoilers" was made in Southern California.  "The Ne-er Do Well" was filmed in

Panama.]

     "What do you think of 'The Spoilers,' now that you have done so many

other pictures?" I asked.

     "I still consider it a very great picture in some respects.  It is crude

as we judge the photoplay today, of course, just as all the old productions

are.  However, the story was good--it had dramatic value, and that means so

much.  It means," she mused, "that 'The Spoilers' is still being shown and

making money.  It proves the necessity of a good story."

     "What are you doing now?"

     "Nothing at this special time--I have done five pictures this last year

and will soon start on another with Mr. De Mille.  I can't tell you anything

about it save the fact that it will be a stupendous thing like 'Joan the

Woman.'  I have done 'Her Kingdom of Dreams' with Anita Stewart and 'A Girl

Named Mary,' with Marguerite Clark.  And I want to say right here that she is

a dear little thing.  She's one girl who is tailor-made when it comes to

business.  She is never known to keep a director waiting.  If the rest of us

have to be on hand in make-up at 7 p.m. Miss Clark is there also.

     "I've just finished a fine part in 'The Tree of Knowledge,'--it's a

heavy, the second time I have played a role of this sort, but it is real,

--true,--about a resourceful woman and it allows one's imagination full

play."

     "The year before last you were not seen much on the screen?"  We gently

led the star of "The Perils [sic] of Kathlyn" back to the silversheet when

the talk again drifted.  She would so much rather talk about her hobby--it

being animals--not an unnatural hobby either when one remembers her old Selig

pictures with the lions and jaguars.

     "I was very ill," she told me, "and for several months I was compelled

to rest and recuperate, which made a trip with Mr. Eyton to New York

possible.  Then he was ill with the flu, and just when I was recovering I had

to take full charge of his sickroom, for it was impossible to get a nurse

during that epidemic, as you'll remember.  The very fact that I had to nurse

one so ill helped me to get well--I ceased to have time to be depressed and

nervous over my own state."

     It doesn't take one long to know Kathlyn Williams as self-sufficient.

She belittles domesticity in no way, yet she feels that a person satisfied to

do nothing but make the social rounds, with no thought of things outside of

her clubs, is more or less stagnant, and even though the screen work is not a

necessity to her, she will always find time for a characterization now and

then, perhaps in later years less frequently than at present.

     She is essentially not the type to talk--she is a doer.  Her life

contains many interests, varied interests.  She detests notoriety and only

lends her name to an enterprise if it will assist in bringing in funds for a

good purpose.

     She is sweet, gracious--and big--a typical Girl o' the Golden West, with

a heart stretching to cover every living thing with a benevolent purpose.



      * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

                                                                 July 9, 1921

                                                                 MOVIE WEEKLY

                         Co-Starring with Death

                                    

     Ten years ago an actress visited a circus in Florida.  A successful

leading woman, her path of life had been far from those whose profession is

the subjugation of wild animals.  And yet in a few months to stroll calmly in

the cages of lions and leopards was but part of her daily work and she had

accomplished feats of courage that are still a by-word with animal trainers.

In the next few years, Death was her leading man, not once, but many times.

Although now she confines herself entirely to straight acting, there are

etched on the tablets of her memory unforgettable moments when steel-strong

claws tore at her scalp and ton-heavy elephant hoofs missed her helpless body

only by inches.

     She can tell the same tales of early days around the studios that one

hears from other experienced actors; tales of sets that swayed in the wind,

and of present day stars who then thankfully played in crowd scenes.

     But she can surpass these with experiences that no one else has equaled

or ever will equal.  For in the days when animal pictures were in special

vogue, she reigned supreme.

     Kathlyn Williams gained international renown for her remarkable feats

with wild beasts in "The Adventures of Kathlyn," but seldom can she be

induced to tell of them.  The following article will relate many experiences

which are seeing print for the first time.

     "They were so terribly real," she explains, "that I didn't want to talk

about them.  And when I did, nobody would believe me.  But as quite a number

of years have passed, perhaps they will be of historical value in recording

some of the things we underwent while the photoplay was being developed from

an experiment to an art form.

     "Take 'The Adventures of Kathlyn' for instance.  That has been acclaimed

as the first of the great thrillers.  And yet nine people out of ten would

probably sit with me in a projection room and term as 'faked' many scenes in

which members of our cast risked their lives and were often painfully injured-

-not to speak of the excitement for all Los Angeles when a lioness escaped

and roamed around the city for several hours.

     "Perhaps one of my biggest personal thrills came from the well-known

habit of domestic kittens in jumping at moving string or other such object.

The scene called for me to be alone 'in the jungle' as a pack of twenty-four

lions rushed on.

     "Now lions are called 'cats' by animal trainers because of their

relation in appearance, habits and family to the ordinary fire-side pet.  And

under ordinary circumstances there would have been no danger, as the twenty-

four beasts, while young, had been carefully trained.  But just as the door

to their cage was opened, a breeze sprang up, and the loose bits of my

costume flew here and there.  This produced in the young lions all of the

'kittenish' impulses common to young cats--and as individuals they playfully

jumped for the tassels.  Had I ever gone down it would have been really

serious, as even the most carefully trained lion is liable to grow panicky

with a human under its paws..  But fortunately I reached the safety cage in

time.

     "And there are always little accidents that bring unexpected crises.

One day a leopard went 'bad' and started for me.  There was plenty of room

for me to run--but just before I reached the safety cage, I tripped and fell.

In my scalp today are ten claw marks where the leopard 'got home' before I

was dragged to safety, and in my mind the thought of what might have happened

had the attendant keepers been less adept at my rescue.

     "Now I know you're sure to ask the question--so let me say right now

that I'm deathly afraid of a mouse!  I've never been afraid of big animals

because I have always liked them--and when you like them they return your

friendship--but little crawling things--ugh!"

     Certainly Kathlyn Williams in appearance is truly feminine.  Modishly

slender and with a grace of movement that has long been a characteristic of

her stage and screen work, Miss Williams today presides graciously over a

beautiful hill-top home that overlooks all of Los Angeles, and as one wanders

through rooms decorated in perfect taste and abounding in those alluring

touches which are so truly feminine--it is hard to believe that the fair

mistress of this "home" home has perhaps faced death more often than any

other living woman; or at any rate, that she has gone through such

experiences and remained just the same sweet representative of the gentler

sex.

     For some years before entering pictures, Miss Williams had been

extremely successful as a stage leading woman.  At the close of one season

she entered motion pictures with that master David Wark Griffith, playing

with Mary Pickford, Dell Henderson and Arthur Johnson in a one-reel drama,

entitled "All Is Not Gold."  Upon leaving Mr. Griffith, Miss Williams

appeared in such famous old pictures as "Ten Nights in a Bar Room" and "The

Two Orphans," the first and second three-reel pictures ever made.  She also

starred in "The Landing of Columbus," the first picture to reach the $50,000

mark.

     It was while she was in Florida doing a drama for the Selig company that

Miss Williams received the urge for animal work.  A wintering circus

fascinated her, and she spent hours around the animals, getting so that she

would reach between the bars and pet with impunity lions and tigers that even

the keepers feared.

     "I liked animals," she says, "and that's really all there is to it--that

and not being afraid of them.  Animals are very sensitive to your feelings

toward them and react accordingly.  If you fear an animal, it will sense your

fear immediately, no matter how bold a front you may put up.  And if you

can't get along with dogs and cats, don't waste your time by attempting to

work professionally with lions, tigers and other wild beasts.  For they are

all of the same blood and the instinct for friends or enemies is bred in the

bone.  And 'cats,' lions, tigers and leopards, are especially sensitive and

high-strung.  Place the wrong sort of a keeper with them, and a feud may

start that will throw the animals off their disposition for weeks and make it

exceedingly difficult to win them back again.

     "When the proposal was made that I appear in animal pictures, I gladly

accepted, because it was unusual and promised a real change from regular

dramatic work.  Besides, if I were to succeed, it would give me all the

prestige of a pioneer in a new field.  And while I knew nothing of the

professional tricks of the animal trainer, I felt positive that my love for

the beasts would carry me through.  And it did!"

     And it was not all with the "cats" that Miss Williams had her most

thrilling experiences.  It was while she was working with elephants, the

"bulls" as they are called, that she came closest to Death's door.

     "Lions you can fight if they go 'bad,'" says Miss Williams, "or at least

it is possible to hold them off until the endangered one gets to safety.  But

when a herd of elephants goes berserk, they are absolutely uncontrollable.

Their force is so irresistible that all one can do is trust to luck.

     "Thomas Santschi and I were working together when the group of six

elephants we were using stampeded.  The next few minutes were the most

terrifying in all my life.  In the Selig enclosure there is a small forest of

towering eucalyptus trees, with a ten-foot board fence at the farther side.

Those elephants went through the trees as if they weren't there, snapping

them off like so many matches, shoving the fence to one side as easily as the

ordinary persons turns the pages of the morning paper.

     "Mr. Santschi and I were in a howdah on the back of one, holding on for

dear life.  Then our 'bull' knocked the howdah off against a tree and all we

could do was hang to a ring on his cinch and pray.

     "We expected to be killed at any moment, so decided to take a chance and

jump.  Mr. Santschi jumped first and fell free.  Then I jumped, just in time

to see another 'bull' come up past the tail of mine.  When I hit the ground I

rolled up into a ball, expecting to feel the following elephant's massive

hoof at any instant.  But whether or not my prayers were heard--the fact

remains that just at the last fraction of a second he turned and passed on

the other side of the 'bull' from which I had jumped."

     Miss Williams laughed.

     "One of the funniest things about my animal work is the fact that I've

never actually gotten out of it--even now when I am doing straight dramatic

parts.  Whenever they use cats, kittens and dogs which must act just so--I'm

generally called upon.  I'm the one who must see that the acting cat turns

its head at just the proper moment or makes entrances and exists as required.

It was like that in 'A Private Scandal,' Realart's birthday special, and also

'Everything For Sale.'  I don't think Director Frank O'Connor, of the latter

offering, has quite forgiven me yet for using his sweater to wrap up a half

dozen shivering little kittens I found huddled in the rain when we on

location at Del Monte, Cal.!

     "And wild 'cats' aren't much harder to handle--when you have the

instinct for them.  At the Selig zoo there is a female jaguar called 'Minna.'

'Minna' was one of my best friends.  It grew to be quite a habit with me to

stop by and play with her.  I would put my arm in her cage and she would turn

over on her back and play with it just like a kitten.  My arms used to be

marked the full length of the elbow with her teeth marks, but she never

pressed hard enough to break the skin.

     "'Minna' was also possessed of a most remarkable memory.  Two years

passed before I saw her again--and I had no sooner arrived in the door of the

zoo building than up she came to the bars of the cage to be petted.

     "And the most interesting feature was that no one else could touch her.

One of the keepers grew jealous of my success and tried to duplicate it.

'Minna' nearly bit his thumb off!"

     Miss Williams has been in the motion picture business since it was first

recognized as an art.  Equal in her mind with the memories of her startling

animal experience, is a great wonder over the marvelous growth of this newest

of arts.

     "I have just finished work in 'A Private Scandal' for Realart," she

said.  "We were on the picture just six weeks.  We had splendid lights, the

very latest obtainable; the last word in camera equipment; sets that

represented the artistic effort of many hands and minds.  My costumes alone

took weeks of preparation.  And in 1913 we used to do two pictures a week!

And we acted quite as well in them, I believe as the players do nowadays.

The great difference has been in the advance of technical perfection, the

obviating of the crudities which were a part and parcel of filmdom's infancy.

In those days people came to see pictures because they were absolutely novel

--and we kept them coming with new novelties such as the animal thrillers in

which I appeared.

     "But there came a day when novelties alone would not suffice.  The

photoplay found it necessary to present stories and sets equally attractive

with those of the longer established stage--and from then on we have been

growing towards an ideal of film art."

     Today Miss Williams is one of the ablest players in the profession.  Her

beautiful figure and wonderful blond hair added to a matured mind and

completely artistic acting ability have made her greatly in demand for

important productions.  Playgoers will recall "Cherry Mallotte" in "The

Spoilers," and the great characterization in "The Ne'er Do Well," which was

acclaimed as one of the finest acting triumphs of its year.  Her more recent

appearances have been in Cecil B. De Mille's production, "Forbidden Fruit,"

and the William De Mille productions, "The Prince Chap" and "Conrad in Quest

of His Youth."

     In "A Private Scandal" and "Everything for Sale," she has society parts,

which give her excellent opportunities for a display of her interpretative

ability.

     And it is certain the years in which Kathlyn Williams "Co-Starred With

Death," in the cages of lions and leopards, have been largely responsible for

the firm, sure poise which makes her acting today so delightful.



      * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

                                                                  August 1921

                                                                 Aline Carter

                                                               MOTION PICTURE

                           Untouched by Ennui

                                    

     Ennui could never touch Kathlyn Williams--she is so keenly alive with a

diversity of absorbing interests.  Most of us might be tempted to believe

that being beautiful--with lovely blonde hair, deep blue eyes and exquisite

coloring, as well as being one of the most finished actresses on the screen

today, were quite enough distinctive characteristics, but Miss Williams has

added several others to her credit.

     She is domestically inclined and makes a real home for her husband,

Charles Eyton, manager of the Lasky studio, and her young son, Victor.

Recently she finished a course of aeronautics, winning her pilot's license

after working steadily for two whole months learning the art of managing an

airplane.  She reads the best French literature in the original, and has

written several successful scenarios.  She designs her own lovely frocks and

hats, and as she is conceded to be one of the most smartly gowned members of

the local film colony, this is some achievement, and--she always seems to

have time to devote to her family and friends.

     At the present moment her new home, an Italian villa, perched atop a

high point in Hollywood, holds first place in Miss Williams' thoughts, and

she has proved herself as much of an artist in building it as she has in

creating some of her well-known screen characters.

     The house is of perfect architectural design, of soft grey plaster, set

in a picturesque grove of olive trees.  With its winding stairways, high

ceilings, balconies and broad terraces, it suggests an atmosphere of the

romantic that is seldom encountered.

     Through the open doorway, as we chatted, we could see Hollywood

stretched at our feet, glistening in the morning sun.  In the background lay

the city of Los Angeles and beyond were valleys and mountains--the farthest

peaks white with snow--all forming a panoramic view of enchanting beauty.

     The world with its crowded Broadways, its triumphs and applause, its mad

rush and useless hurry, all seemed far removed from this peaceful spot.

     "That is one reason why I love it," remarked Miss Williams, when I spoke

of this.  "I feel so close to life's activities yet detached from its

annoyances.

     "Hidden in that clump of shrubs and trees," she continued, pointing down

the sharply sloping lawn, "are fifty quail which we protect from the hunter's

gun.  That is indicative of seclusion, isn't it?  We have built them a

spacious bathing pool, and they believe they are miles from any dangers.

I find it hard to finish dressing in the mornings while I watch them proudly

strut about their domain."

     It is in this serene quiet, a few blocks from the Lasky studio, that

Miss Williams studies the film roles that have made her known to all the

motion picture public as a genuine artist.  She possesses a rare capacity for

identifying herself with her characters, while her work is always finely

tempered, subtle and well balanced.

     She has recently returned from a seven weeks' stay in New York, where

she played a leading part in a Selznick production, "A Man's House."

     "New environment always acts as a spur to me and I thoroughly enjoyed

the change," Miss Williams said.  "I had a splendid role, that of a frivolous

society butterfly, who, later, in the face of the crisis, proved a true

woman.  It is these human roles that I love to portray--real women with their

temptations, development and regeneration.

     "I had many interesting experiences while East, and it seemed good to be

in New York again.  I rushed madly every minute, for besides my work at the

studio I was trying to visit the shops, see all the new plays as well as

meeting many celebrities.

     "One night at a director's dinner I saw Dr. Frank Crane and was

delighted to find he was just as I had pictured him.  I have always enjoyed

his writings so much, and particularly last summer when my boy was ill it

seemed as if his messages were meant especially for me.  I was tempted to

tell him this, yet hesitated--he probably has many admirers.

     "Then, one afternoon, while at tea at the Claridge, I met Rex Beach for

the first time.  Rather odd, for though I have played in several of his

stories on the screen, and he had frequently been in Los Angeles, I had to go

to New York to be introduced.  As I had been told that his wife suggested the

description of his Cherry Malotte, I was naturally interested in seeing Mrs.

Beach.  I found them both charming."

     We all recall Rex Beach's epic making film, "The Spoilers," which

created a sensation a few years ago with what has since proved to be an all-

star cast, and Kathlyn Williams is possibly more vividly identified with her

famous role of Cherry Malotte than anything else she has ever done in motion

pictures.  She made this dance-hall girl of the North so splendidly human, so

superbly alive, that it still stands out as one of the big roles seen on the

screen.

     "The last time I saw this picture," laughed Miss Williams, "I was amused

to see how hopelessly old-fashioned the clothes had become even in this short

time.  That is one thing in favor of the costume picture, which the American

producers so vigorously taboo, the date would not be screaming at you from

every gown and hat as it does in the modern drama."

     Kathlyn Williams is a western girl, having been born in Butte, Montana.

She began her stage career as a child, and early became the protege of

Senator W. A. Clark, of whom she speaks with much admiration as a man who is

ever ready to help talent in its development.

     She attended the Wesleyan University, then studied at the Empire School

of Acting in New York, later appearing in a number of well-known stage plays,

both in the city and on tour.

     Coming to Los Angeles, Miss Williams became a member of the famous old

Belasco stock company and was also with Willard Mack in Salt Lake City for a

time.  These two stock experiences she considers to be the most valuable of

all her stage training.

     "Pictures came along just then, I joined the Biograph Company under Mr.

Griffith, and have been playing before the camera ever since," and she took

up the story.  "I love the work now even more than at first, for there have

been such remarkable strides made in every phase of this great art.

     "It offers many advantages over the stage, one of the most interesting

being that we can see our own acting.  I make it a rule to have the rushes

shown each night before leaving the studio, and this keeps me from repeating

my mistakes or permitting little mannerisms to creep in.  It also shows how

to improve our make-up.  You would think after all my years in pictures I

would know all about make-up, but the continual advancement in the lighting

methods keeps us changing our methods too, and I learn something new in this

direction with each picture."

     Doubtless, much of Kathlyn Williams' success is due to her own charming

womanliness, her beauty and her dignity, but it is her rare intelligence that

gives her the power of discerning the dramatic values of her roles no matter

in what social realm they may abide.  The whole-hearted manner in which she

interprets the woman who has made a mistake, the shallow society leader, the

demi-moral of the early West, all display her splendid understanding of the

feminine mind and heard.

     "I enjoy what we call a sympathetic heavy," went on Miss Williams,

"there are so many good-bad women--you know what I mean--and they are very

human.  However, I will not play a really vicious part.  I do not want that

wave of thought turned against me that necessarily follows the portrayal of a

character in which there is no saving grace and most of all, I do not want my

son to see me in such roles.

     "Victor is growing up so fast--" she added, happily, while I tried to

realize this radiant young woman was the mother of a strapping boy.  "He is

learning to dance and we practice all over the house, tearing up the rugs and

bumping the furniture against my precious walls--" and she laughed,

indulgently.

     So, again we say, ennui can never bring its blight to Kathlyn Williams.

      * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

                                                                November 1921

                                                                  Marion Lake

                                                       MOTION PICTURE CLASSIC

                              The Patrician

                                    

     ...Kathlyn Williams is inevitably an aristocrat.  The word is

unfortunate.  It has lost much of its value on ignorant tongues.

"Democracy!" we cry--not realizing that true aristocracy is democracy.

However--

     There is a patrician quality which one may not deny, although she

probably would.  It is supplemented by kindliness, humor, energy.

     She came to the interview bravely, smiling and offering her hand.

I was surprised by the suggestion of uncertainty which shaded her manner.

     "You will ask me questions?" she said, when she had at last got me into

a chair.  "I don't quite know what to say, what you want to know--?"

     My assurance, I am afraid, was a little vague.  I didn't really know

myself.  I was busy noting the pale gold of her hair, her blue smiling eyes,

the tremendous energy with which her whole being seemed to be vibrant, the

high carriage of her head.  The thought came to me that here was one, of

beautiful maturity, who would, so long as she lived, remain ever young and in

tune with young things.  I have met many women, but among them there was only

one other who had that divine gift, that sympatico.

     Perhaps that was why, because I sensed that thing, that I proceeded to

talk about the Futility of Life, my cherished doctrine, about religion and

the paradox of Faith.  She listened, with apparent willingness, and then was

charming enough to differ with me.  She is deeply interested in Science, in

Christian Science, and that is founded on Faith.  As yet, she does not

profess to be a Scientist.  She is merely a student and investigator.

     How long we talked of religion, I don't know.  I remember that she

suddenly dismissed it with at "Goodness!  How did we ever get into these

depths?  I am not usually this way at all."

     She is as dynamic in her conversation as in her person.  She seizes upon

a subject, shakes it out thoroughly, rinses it, and hangs it up to dry.  She

is anticipatory of your ideas in a decisive way that at times verges on

abruptness, yet never rudely so.

     "I am planning to take a trip around the world very soon," she said, "to

the Orient and to Europe.  I shall collect things then to put into my house.

I have been urged not to go.  The unrest of the world is dangerous, say my

friends.  In almost every country there is revolution.  In India, where I

want particularly to go, there are extensive uprisings.  It is probable that

I would be refused a passport.  But I don't like to put it off.  I want to go

now, while I am young enough to have a good time, to endure hardship and

enjoy it if it is necessary."

     One has come to associate Kathlyn Williams with the Lasky players.  Her

consistent appearance in a good many of their productions, in "Conrad in

Quest of His Youth," in "Forbidden Fruit," and more recently with May McAvoy

in "A Virginia Courtship," and "A Private Scandal," have tended to confirm

the belief of a contract.  But she is independent, and apparently prefers to

remain so.  She has no longer any need to tie herself to labor.  Her very

happy marriage, the interests of her big place on the hill, have tended to

draw her away from that.

     We rose presently from our chairs and walked slowly out toward the door.

The hallway arched over our heads, and through different doors I caught brief

vistas of rooms finished in the same warm, rich quietness that typified the

studio.

     "When I talked with you last," I said to her, "we were at the studio.

You were in a magnificent trailing gown of yellow gold, and behind, in

faithful attendance, was a negro maid, carrying your handkerchief and your

make-up materials.  I have been anxious ever since to know whether you were

always like that."

     Kathlyn Williams laughed.

     "Well!  You see!"  She motioned to her simple white dress.  "I suppose I

might have got myself up for the occasion, have appeared in a gorgeous gown

at the head of those stairs there, but I don't like ostentation."

     I smiled.  I had not meant her dress.  I had mentioned that because it

had seemed to be the reason for that fine stateliness.  But I knew now.  In

simple frock or in evening gown, or in robes of any kind, Kathlyn Williams

could not escape magnificence.  It is an innate part of her.

     We stood for a while on the drive outside, gazing off at the distant

hills, half lost in the summer haze, or watching her company of pheasants

feeding on the hillside.

     "They are very tame," she said.  "I go down every evening to feed them.

They will eat from my hand."

     For long minutes we idled there, she sitting on the low coping that

lined the steps, I standing before her, with the warm California sun shining

down on us and a pleasant breeze stirring about us.  We talked of many

things, of her adventures during her course in aviation, of her riding--one

knows instinctively that she does ride horses--of England and the English, of

the condition of our government, or religion again.

     It is impossible to put into words the charm of Kathlyn Williams.  It is

definite, fine unaffected.  One can say little more than that one would like

to talk with her, to walk with her, to know her, as one can only talk and

walk and know a friend.



      * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

                                                                     May 1922

                                                                    PHOTOPLAY

     The entire film colony of Hollywood has felt the deepest sorrow and

depression over the recent death of Kathlyn Williams' son.

     The boy was sixteen, a student at the Hollywood High School, and he

passed on during the "flu" epidemic that invaded the west.

     Kathlyn Williams is married to Charles Eyton, manager of the Lasky

studio.

     The actress was prostrated at her home by the boy's death.  He was her

only child.  [The child was from an earlier marriage, to Victor Kainer.]



      * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

                                                               September 1924

                                                                 Herbert Howe

                                                                    PHOTOPLAY

     [from an interview with Kathlyn Williams]...She avers that the animals

of those Selig serials absolutely terrified her--and charmed her.  When she

had to ride on elephants she was panic-stricken.  That is why she cherishes

such a profound regard for elephants that she wants to ride them in India.

     She craves adventure.  It is probably a Viking heritage, she muses.  Her

father was Norwegian, her mother Welsh.  The Nordic blood is dominant in her.

     She is made two expeditions into China.  Last year she just missed the

Chinese bandits by one day when they made their celebrated raid and capture

of travelers.

     "I was terribly disappointed to have missed them," she observed with an

airy laugh.  "I wanted to go back and say, 'Here I am.'"...

     "There are two things I love in life," says Kathlyn, "work and travel.

Not travel among the capitals of Europe but among the places untracked by

civilization.

     "...I crave adventure, and that is not to be found in Hollywood.  The

one thing you are sure to find in Hollywood is disillusionment.

     "I was always looking for the great opportunity.  Always, just over the

hill, I expected to find what I wanted.  And always what I found fell short

of my ambition.  Now I haven't ambition--that is, I pretend I haven't.  But I

suppose I still dream on, for I am still fascinated with my work."...

     In serious confession she admits she has but two fears.  One alone she

would name--the fear of living too long.

     "The tragedy is not in death. I shrink from pain but not death.  The

real tragedy of life is in living beyond one's time, beyond the time when

work and adventure can give zest.  Weariness of soul and body, the sense of

futility, the age when hope flickers low, these constitute the tragedy.  It

is not disappointment in love, failure in business, loss of fortune that

makes for stark tragedy but tedium, relentless tedium."...

     In her home that reigns on a queenly eminence, commanding a view of the

purple hills and the valley that sweeps to the sea, we talked of philosophy

in the comfortable glow of the library.  There were books on the table and on

the shelves.

     "I've grasped at them all, but when I've finished I confess honestly

that I do not know," observed Miss Williams.  "Of course, there is always

Omar Khayyam for final resort, but his philosophy is really one of despair.

I reject it."

     Again that gay, whimsical laugh that is characteristic of her.  "We are

getting too serious.  It is the twilight."...



      * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

                                                                   April 1925

                                                                      Tom Mix

                                                                    PHOTOPLAY

     [Kathlyn Williams' scalp was once clawed by a leopard.  The incident was

retold many times, with a wide variation in the details.  Cowboy star Tom Mix

was working for Selig at that time, and in 1925 he wrote a highly-fanciful

series of autobiographical articles, giving this account of the incident:]

     ...Right here, before going into some of the adventures that befell us

in Florida, I'd like to say that Miss Kathlyn Williams was a wonderful woman

and that it sure was a privilege to work with her.  It wasn't only that she

was a mighty brave woman, but she had a fine disposition, and she was sweet

and smiling no matter how tough the going might be, and sometimes it was

pretty bad, for we worked under great difficulties and most of the time lived

the same way.  Making that kind of pictures was a heap different than the

things they do nowadays and the animals were the chief part of it, too.

     I remember that we had a troup of leopards with us, and their trainer

allowed that they were tame leopards, but I have seen a lot tamer things in

my time.  We had build a great big corral, or cage of wire, and we worked

inside that, with all the tropical atmosphere, but still where the animals

couldn't get away.  I had one experience with a leopard down there that was

like what you read about in books but that is the only time I ever saw it

happen in real life.

     We wanted to show on the screen, the leopard finding Miss Williams

asleep under a log and springing on her.  And the way we planned to get it

was like this--Miss Williams laid down on one side of the log, right close to

it, and on the other side was the leopard.  We had a chicken pegged on the

same side as Miss Williams, and we'd move the chicken and the leopard would

leap high in the air, right over Miss Williams, and land on the chicken.

Then we'd cut with him in midair.  Then with another leopard trained for the

part would continue the fight.

     It went great the first time.  The second time, just as the leopard

started to spring, the breeze caught Miss Williams' hair and blew it around.

It caught his attention and before anyone could move, he had sprung right on

Miss Williams, one paw putting five deep cuts in her head.  She fainted.

     It was so quick no one could realize it.  My gun was some five feet

away, and I was afraid to move for fear the sound would make him strike

instantly.  I was only a few feet from him, and right in front of me was his

tail.  I could see it twitching back and forth, back and forth, like the tail

of a cat with a mouse.

     As I told you, cats are my natural enemies, and for a second I didn't

know what I could do, that wouldn't make him kill Miss Williams, or maim her,

before I could stop him.  Then an idea came to me, and I just reached forward

and with all my strength grabbed that moving tail and swung.  He was a big

leopard, but I just managed to lift him clean, and someone snatched Miss

Williams.

     He turned on me in a fury, and we stood there looking at each other,

just staring.  Some folks that was watching, thought I was right cool and

collected on that occasion, but the truth was I was paralyzed with fear,

though I was trying to figure out if maybe I couldn't get him by the throat

when he sprang.

     And then, as we stared, that leopard suddenly began to shift, dropped

his head and his tail, and slunk away into the trees...



      * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

                                                           September 25, 1960

                                                         LOS ANGELES EXAMINER

                   Kathlyn Williams, Former Star, Dies

                                    

     Silent film star Kathlyn Eyton Williams was found dead Saturday in her

apartment at 1428 N. Crescent Heights Blvd., West Hollywood.

     She was discovered sitting in the wheel chair to which she had been

confined since losing a leg in a near fatal auto crash in Death Valley in

1949.  Death was from natural causes.

     ...She married producer Charles Eyton at Riverside in 1916.  They were

divorced at Reno in 1931 but remained friends.  Each remembered the other in

their wills and when Eyton died in 1941 Miss Williams inherited 20 per cent

of his estate, worth $10,000 annually.

     She had lived in her handsome apartment since the early 1930s and was

known as a gracious hostess who entertained socialites and motion picture

celebrities frequently.

     The years following her auto crash were dark ones for the vivacious

actress.  Confinement to the wheel chair altered her active way of life and

she once confessed "I wanted to die when I realized how bad off I was."...

*****************************************************************************

*****************************************************************************

   Back issues of Taylorology are available from the gopher server at

                               gopher.etext.org

                     in the directory Zines/Taylorology;

                               or on the Web at

                   http://www.angelfire.com/az/Taylorology

*****************************************************************************







.


