Hopalong Cassidy and William Boyd

An interviewer once asked the late actor Peter Sellers to tell him a little about himself. Sellers, who specialized playing a bevy bizarre characters, was unable to answer the question satisfactorily. He was so enmeshed in his acting that the real-life Peter Sellers could only relate to the characters he was playing. William Boyd found himself in a similar situation except, in his case, only one character was involved -- a fictitious, black hatted, white maned cowboy that absorbed nearly the entire personality of the man who portrayed him on the screen. Boyd could not have been happier.

At one time there were two William Boyds in the movies. The first was a successful star of the silent screen and was well on his way to making a name for himself in talkies. The second was only semi-successful as an actor. One night the police raided the home of the second William Boyd and discovered a den of iniquity -- gambling, illegal liquor and pornographic films.

Pulp author Clarence E. Mulford had been writing his Bar-20 stories for quite a while. They featured a foul-mouthed, whisky guzzling cow hand who hobbled along with a limp -- Hop-A-Long Cassidy. Producer Harry “Pop” Sherman planned to make a series of westerns based on Mulford’s books and he needed a cheap actor for a supporting role. William Boyd had already slid as far as he could go and readily accepted the part. But when he got his script and began reading, Boyd’s fertile imagination was fired. Hop-A-Long was a part that he could get into, but the old reprobate’s personality needed a serious adjustment. Boyd knew how to fix the character.

Boyd approached Sherman with his ideas about Cassidy and proposed that he take the role himself. Pop readily agreed. The first Hop-A-Long Cassidy western appeared in 1935. In the next film, all the dashes were eliminated in the name and he became simply Hopalong Cassidy -- Hoppy for short.

It soon became apparent to Boyd, and everyone around him, that his personal identity was merging with the character, and there was good reason. On screen Cassidy was understanding, fatherly, and gentle, but when he became riled, woe betide the villain. Hoppy, in essence, was everything Boyd wanted to be. So he changed is personality and became Hopalong Cassidy. “The minute I start ‘acting,’ I’m out of character,” Boyd once told an interviewer.

The Hoppys were slick, beautiful productions with gorgeous photography (most were shot around Lone Pine and Mt. Whitney) and perhaps the best musical scores of any of the “B” westerns. They were well-scripted and well-acted. Hoppy’s sidekicks included George “Windy” Hayes (he was later known as “Gabby”), the hilarious Scottish comedian Andy Clyde, Russell Hayden, Jimmy Ellison and others. Supporting players included Victor Jory, Russell Simpson, a very young Robert Mitchum, Betty Bronson, and nearly all the well-known heavies of the period. They were immensely successful.

After four dozen films for Paramount and United Artists, Boyd and Pop began having disagreements about production. Pop went to United Artists management with an astounding proposal. He wanted to recast the role of Hoppy. Boyd had become so enmeshed in the part, Pop said, that he was difficult to handle. In fact, Pop had filmed a test of his assistant, Dick Dickson, in a white wig and hat as a substitute. But the executives knew what everyone else in America knew. Without Boyd, there would be no Hoppy. They rejected the proposal.

When Boyd discovered the scheme, he was livid. He pulled out of the series altogether, refusing to make another film. At the same time, he made plans to acquire Sherman’s option so that he could produce his own Hopalong Cassidy films as he saw fit. It took three years and he sold everything he owned to raise the cash, but was able to purchase Sherman’s option to shoot six Cassidy westerns a year. Then he also bought the rights to the 54 westerns that Sherman had already made.

Boyd made 12 more Cassidy westerns, but they were inferior to the original product and United Artists pulled their financing of new pictures in 1948. Boyd was now stuck with 66 westerns that were unsalable.

One day a technician told Boyd that it was possible to show films in the new medium of television -- that everything didn’t have to be live. That was the answer, Boyd thought. Sell the old films to TV. The problem was that he had to obtain full ownership of the character, which he had to purchase from Clarence Mulford.

Mulford was never too keen on Boyd’s interpretation of Cassidy, but was willing to talk business. Once again, Boyd sold or mortgaged everything he owned and was able to obtain the rights. He was so poor that when he was invited to appear on the Milton Berle show, he didn’t have the money for a plane ticket.

Boyd released the older Paramount and United Artists features to television and they were the first films from major studios to hit the tube. Then he went into the production of a series of half-hour television shows. He was also one of the first to license merchandise. There were Hopalong Cassidy radios, Hopalong Cassidy drinking straws, Hopalong Cassidy comic books, Hopalong Cassidy cowboy outfits -- hundreds of products. Boyd became a multi-millionaire.

Legend has it that William Boyd hated kids. Nothing could be further from the truth. His own son had died of pneumonia in the early 20s and he had mourned the boy for years. As Hoppy, Boyd dedicated his life to children, even writing “Hopalong Cassidy’s Creed for American Boys and Girls”.

He gave generously to children’s charities and it wasn’t unusual to see him, resplendent on his Hoppy regalia, unexpectedly appear in a children’s hospital, making his way through the wards. During personal appearances, he was Hopalong Cassidy in the flesh and not William Boyd in costume. The two had become so synonymous that when Boyd died in 1972, a number of obituaries actually identified the departed as Hopalong Cassidy. To the public, and to Boyd, the two men were one.