National Affairs: Valentino

As it must to all men, Death came to Rudolph Valentino, sheik.

Sitting in his apartment at the Hotel Ambassador, Manhattan, last week, he suddenly clapped a hand to his side, fainted. Taken to the Polyclinic Hospital, he was operated on for appendicitis, gastric ulcers. Over the wires of the world buzzed the news. At the hospital door bushels of flowers arrived. Two extra operators were detailed to the telephone switchboard to answer calls concerning Mr. Valentino. (When a rumor that he was dead circulated, the calls came at the rate of 2,000 an hour.) A maid delivered an Irish linen bed spread and pillow case marked “Rudy” with a card from Jean Acker. (She was his first wife.) From Paris came a message, “Pray God night and day for your recovery.” It was signed Winifred Hudnut. (She was his second wife.) “This is Pola Negri in California,” said a brittle voice on telephone, “How is Mr. Valentino?” Thousands, hundreds of thousands of women everywhere were asking, “How is Mr. Valentino?”

Mr. Valentino developed pleurisy. He was worse, said the telephone girls. Then a blood transfusion was performed. He was resting, sleeping.

As dawn came, he awoke . . . seemed restless. . . .

At last a scrawled note was laid before the incessantly telephoning switchboard operators. One, Lucille Vanderbilt, broke down, sobbed into her instrument: “He’s dead! Rudy’s dead!”

Traffic was choked with grieving thousands as his body was taken to the undertaker’s, where it underwent the special process that “perpetually preserves” the corpse of Enrico Caruso.

Rudolph Alfonzo Raffaelo Pierre Filibert Guglielmi di Valentina d’Antonguolla was born at Castellaneta, Italy, 31 years ago, the son of a veterinary who had been in youth an Italian cavalry captain.

Adequately educated, never actually in want, he roved from one occupation to another until fame and wealth came to him as the Julio of The Four Horsemen. When he died he was insured in favor of his producer, Joseph M. Schenck, for $1,000,000.