William Boyd's Hopalong Turned a Scruffy Cowhand to Shining Hero

William Boyd as Hopalong Cassidy on his white stallion Topper.

Earlier this year I discovered that nearly all of the Hopalong Cassidy original films are now available streaming on Prime.  I binge watched for several months.

It took me back to Summer days more than 65 years ago in Cheyenne, Wyoming when we spent our days recreating in detail elaborate cowboy sagas that lasted all day—or even all week.  The we were my twin brother, Tim, a rotating cast of neighborhood kids—principally Joe Miranda and his assorted younger siblings—and when she was in town our cousin from Des Moines, Linda Strom.  For authenticity real prairie started abruptly at the end of our block complete with sagebrush, tumbleweeds, and low button cactus.  But the back yards the neighborhood with their lilac caves, wild rose hedges, palisade fences, brick walls, window wells, and the low flat roofs of car ports provided plenty of locations for ambushes and shoot-outs.

We had regular and defined parts.  Tim, handsome and charismatic was always Roy Rogers.  Linda was Bell Starr.  And me? I was Hopalong Cassidy.

***

On June 24, 1948, a little less than a year before I was born, Hopalong Cassidy premiered on NBC Television.  It was the first western series on the infant medium and it was wildly successful.  So successful that it introduced an era lasting more than 30 years when horse operas dominated the small screen. 

Clarence Mulford in 1928 banging out another Hopalong novel.

The character Hopalong Cassidy was first introduced in 1904 in short stories by 21-year-old Clarence E. Mulford, a native of Streator, Illinois, while he was living and working in Fryeburg, Maine.  He was a fan of western lore who wanted to create more realistic stories than the simple daring-do of the old dime novels.  Through research, his tales were filled with accurate details of ranch life, cowboy outfits and gear, and location.  But at heart he was still a Victorian moralist with a hero performing nobly.  

Cassidy started out as a twenty-something ranch hand elevated to foreman of the sprawling Bar-20 Ranch.  He was rude, crude, and slovenly, attributes that hid his finer qualities.  Hoppy, as he was called, got his name from sustaining a bullet to the leg in an early story, and lingering disability sometimes came into play.

Beginning with Bar-20 in 1906 Mulford churned out 28 novels through Hopalong Cassidy Serves a Writ in 1940.  Enormously popular, he was a major rival of Zane Grey, the leading western novelist of the day.  But the Hopalong series was the first in the genre to have continuing characters and story points from book to book.  And unlike other series, Mulford’s cowboy hero and his associates, rivals, and foils aged and evolved as the series continued.

                          

                                          Hopalong's first appearance in a novel, 1907.

In 1935 Mulford’s near contemporary Harry A. Sherman bought the film rights to the book series and set up his own independent production company to make the movies.  Sherman was originally an exhibitioner who had made good money when he became the distributor for D.W. Griffith’s Birth of a Nation in the Western states in 1915.  He had always wanted to go into production and the deal with Mulford gave him his chance.

Papa Sherman, as he was known, produced more than 50 low budget two reel westerns in the series through 1944.  Although cheaply made cinematography by Russell B. Harlan and others was far above average for Poverty Row and gave the series a more expensive look. 

Sherman employed a regular sort of stock company with many characters and actors carrying over from film to film.  Veteran George Hayes, an early silent leading man who had become a stock villain at other studios, established his new sidekick character, Gabby Hayes by growing a salt-and-pepper beard, removing his false teeth, and donning a battered black hat with a turned up front brim.  Many later stars got their starts in these productions and others found work on the down sides of their careers.  Familiar costars included Victor Jory, Lee J. Cobb, Richard Dix, George Reeves, Robert Mitchum, and Albert Dekker.

Robert Mitchum  got an early screen credit as a bad guy in 1943's Hoppy Serves a Writ, the last of the film series produced by Harry Sherman.
 

Although independently produced, the films were released through major studios, first Paramount and later United Artists, which guaranteed placement in better movie houses, usually as the bottom of a double bill with an A picture.  The movies were a bonanza for the distributors who attracted the nickels of millions of kids lined up for Saturday matinées and early weekday shows that often otherwise ran to near empty houses.

What made the movie series so popular were some key decisions by producer Sherman.  First and most important was the selection of a star.  He turned not to some handsome young stud or a veteran of other westerns, but to a silent screen leading man fallen on hard times.

William Boyd as a silent era matinee idol.

William Boyd, born on June 5, 1895 in Hendrysburg in Belmont County, Ohio was a highly successful leading man and a favorite of big-time directors like Griffith and Cecil B. DeMille.  Under contract to Radio Pictures at the height of his career he was pulling down $100,000 a year.  That came to a screeching halt, however, in 1931 when wire services picked up a story from the Los Angeles newspapers about the arrest of another actor, William “Stage” Boyd, on gambling and liquor charges.  Unfortunately, the wrong actor’s picture accompanied the article.  Citing the morals clause of his contract, Radio Pictures dumped him and he found himself virtually blacklisted in Hollywood.

Having lived life large with a big house, fancy cars, and all of the accouterments of stardom along with the loss of his investments in the Great Depression, it did not take long for Boyd to fall into virtual poverty.  He scrounged for work sometimes finding small supporting roles as a businessman or professional under the name Billy Boyd. He was still living hand to mouth when he responded to Sherman’s casting call. 

Sherman was inclined to cast Boyd in the supporting role of Red Connors, an older hand on the Bar-20 and Hoppy’s frenemy.  Boyd begged to be considered for the lead role despite not having any experience in action pictures and then barely able to stay on a horse.  A screen test earned him the job—unlike other candidates, he could act. 

So instead of a handsome young buckaroo Sherman found himself with a middle aged, silver haired hero.

The second big decision was to completely re-imagine the character.  Instead of the hard drinking, rough talking cowhand in rags in the first film, Hop-Along Cassidy, the lead was transformed into a gentlemanly teetotaler who ordered sarsaparilla at the bar, who was unfailingly courteous to women, and always let the bad guy slap leather first or throw the first punch.  And instead of tatters, Hoppy was adorned in close-fitting black from the tips of his handsomely tooled Texas cowboy boots to the Ten Gallon black Stetson on his head.  Boyd was not the first cowboy star to buck the white hat rule—Tom Mix and Ken Maynard had occasionally worn them—but he was the first to make it a regular trademark.

And not just any range pony would do.  Hoppy was mounted on a magnificent white stallion, nameless in early films or just referred to as "the White Horse," he was finally named Topper and made the later TV Lone Ranger’s Silver look like a puny runt.  Of course, Hoppy sat comfortably in a handsomely tooled black saddle.

This recipe was enough for the new series to successfully compete against the singing cowboy movies of Gene Autry, John Wayne as Randy, and that upstart Roy Rogers who came to dominate the B movie westerns.  And unlike the products of Republic and other studios who often set their films in the modern West with telephones, automobiles, and radio, the Hopalong series remained rooted in stories of the Old West.

The final decision was to chuck Mulford’s stories and novels as source material.  It was just too hard to adapt the stories to Hoppy’s new image.  While keeping Hopalong rooted to the Bar-20, he was given more freedom to roam becoming something of a knight errant with pearl handled revolvers righting wrongs across the West.

Silent screen actor and stock villain in early western talkies, George Hayes began a hugely successful second career billed as Gabby Hayes, the comic side kick first for Hopalong and later with Gene Autry, John Wayne, Roy Rogers, and Randolph Scott.

In the films Cassidy was usually accompanied by either an elderly comic sidekick and a hero worshiping youth or, most frequently, both.  These were not characters, but types whose names and particulars changed as different actors filled the slot.  George Hayes was the first sidekick, Windy Halliday billed for the first time as Gabby.  Very popular with audiences he left the series in a salary dispute and moved on to Republic where he was soon paired with Gene Autry, John Wayne, Roy Rogers, and later at other studios with Randolph Scott.  He was replaced first by Britt Wood as Speedy McGinnis and then by comedian Andy Clyde as California Carlson, who lasted through the end of the movie series.

The juveniles, eager and well-meaning but trouble prone, were played by James Ellison, Russell Hayden, George Reeves, and Rand Brooks.  Hayden went on to a substantial career in two-reel westerns and B gangster flicks.  Reeves, of course, rose to fame as TV’s Superman.

Meanwhile Mulford, the creator of the original character was making out well not only from royalties from the films but from renewed interest in his books.  From 1935 to 1940 he wrote three new Hopalong books reflecting the hero as he appeared in the movies.  He also went back and re-wrote many of his earlier titles adapting them to movie goers’ expectations.

Despite the continuing popularity of the series, Sherman dreamed of becoming a producer of quality A pictures.  He announced he was ending the series in 1944.  By then his star William Boyd was very identified with the part.  He had learned how to well and how to duke it out with the bad guys reducing the use of stunt doubles.  He enjoyed the adulation of young fans—and the substantial income he earned from appearances with Topper.  He gambled his entire future on Hopalong Cassidy, mortgaging virtually everything he owned to buy both the character rights from Mulford and the catalog of movies from Sherman.

And then he set out, with his own production company, to continue the series.  He churned out 12 more films.  But he had even less production money than Sherman and the pictures were visibly cheaper.

The heyday of the two-reel western was coming to an end.  Major distributors were dropping them.  Unless he had the money to upgrade to color, as Roy Rogers was successfully doing, there seemed little hope.  The principal culprit was the rise of a new competitive medium, television, which threatened to keep all of those Saturday afternoon popcorn munchers at home.

Boyd, with everything to lose, decided to throw in with the butcher who was cutting the throat of his golden goose.  In 1948 he approached NBC Television which aired a handful of his old films.  The response was so overwhelming that before Boyd could get in production with an original series for the air, the network put up a regular series drastically edited to a half hour format from the 66 original movies.  

The opening credits for the NBC repackaging of the Hopalong films included the introduction from the 1935 first film, Hop-Along Cassidy even though the character no longer had a hyphenated name.

The series premiered on June 24, 1949.  It was the first regular western series on television and a huge hit.  By 1950 Boyd was a megastar, his picture as Hopalong Cassidy adorning the covers of national magazines like Look, Life, and Time.

An astute businessman, Boyd was the first western star to see the value in merchandising.  He licensed hundreds of products bearing his likeness as Hopalong.  Most famously the cowboy was the first ever to appear on a school lunch box causing sales for Aladdin Industries to jump from 50,000 units to 600,000 units in just one year.  Hoppy merchandise generated $70 million in revenue for more than 100 companies.  In 1950 Boyd personally earned over $800,000 in licensing, endorsements, and public appearances.

The huge success of the Hopalong Cassidy school lunch box helped launch the age of tie-in merchandising and helped make William Boyd very rich.

Boyd did get up production of his new originals series with Edgar Buchanan as Red Carlson, the character Boyd had first auditioned for, now upgraded to the comic sidekick.  Broadcast as a separate series from the re-packaged movies, this show was rated No. 7 nationally in 1950.  Boyd also starred in a radio version which began on the Mutual Network in 1950 and jumped to CBS where it ran until 1952 with movie side kick Andy Clyde back to reprise California Carlson.

Fawcett Comics had been running a series of comic books since 1946 which was taken over by DC Comics in 1954.  The now highly collectable books ran through 136 issues through 1959.  Western Publishing issued several coloring books.  January 1950 Dan Spiegel began to draw a syndicated comic strip with scripts by Royal King Cole which lasted until 1955.

In 1950 a deal with Castle Films brought the original movies distributed by Paramount to the home market in 16 mm sound and 8 mm silent versions.  These stone age videos enlivened many a child’s birthday party.

Both versions of the TV series and the original movies were all available in TV syndication until they were withdrawn from circulation in the late 1960’s.

Boyd, now wealthy, retired with his fifth wife to Palm Desert, California where he had significant real estate and development holdings.  Suffering from Parkinson’s disease as he aged he shunned photographs and interviews so that he would not disappoint the memory of his fans.  He died in 1972 in Laguna Beach at the age of 77.

Hopalong Cassidy did not die.  He did become hard to find for a while.  Boyd’s heirs licensed restored prints of the films to the basic cable Western Channel in the mid-1990’s where they ran until they were again withdrawn in 2000.  DVDs for home viewing were hard to find outside of a couple of cheaply made compilation discs and an expensive package of the whole television run.

The lobby card of an early 1936 Sherman drew critical praise on its release and featured Gabby Hayes as sidekick Windy Haliday.  Soon he would be billed as Gabby.

Both the original movies and the TV series are once again easily available on YouTube and streaming on Prime.

The character as envisioned originally by Mulford was resurrected in four novels by western novel master Louis L’Amor and in a series of short stories in Follow Your Stars by Susie Coffman in 2005.  Some of Mulford’s original novels have been reprinted, along with a few of the versions he revised to fit the movie character.  Readers are advised to check carefully which they are buying as the originals are considered far better.

And, of course, Hopalong replays eternally in the memory theater of his now aging fans.

  

JFK Brought Pizzazz to Live TV Press Conferences His Latest Successors Not So Much

President John F. Kennedy calling on a reporter in his first live TV press conference.  He won the room and the home audience, at that time of day in the early '60s mostly stay-at-home wives and mothers.

On January 25, 1961 John F. Kennedy held his first live national broadcast press conference setting a lofty precedent for those who came after.  The latest have failed the test.

In his first occupancy of the Oval Office Donald Trump ditched formal press conferences when he found himself challenged and often being bested in sparring matches with reporters from the “Fake News” media.  He held joint press appearances with visiting foreign dignitaries where he would often take the bait of off-topic questions and babble embarrassingly off-script.  Later he appeared for a while at daily press briefings on the Coronavirus sharing the podium with his medical experts like Dr. Anthony Fauci, hack political appointees, and Vice President Mike Pence who was put in charge of the Covid-19 Task Force.  That pretty much ended when he suggested ingesting bleach as a treatment.  He went “over the heads” of the media to use Twitter to stir up his followers,  In the end most of his exchanges with the press were sometimes shouting answers to questions yelled at him as he boarded Marine One.

Trump in one of his daily Coronavius press conference.  His attempt to portray himself as active and in charge ran off the rails when he advised people to drink bleach as a cure.

Joe Biden’s incoming administration immediately reinstated routine daily briefings by his Press Secretary Jen Psaki, which his predecessor had abandoned entirely for months at a time before a Fox News-like blonde was brought on to calmly lie.  In the beginning Biden went before the microphones and cameras daily as he announced his Cabinet appointments and policy initiatives often reversing Trump fiats and fiascos, usually taking at least some questions.  He promised to conduct a transparent administration and the White House Press Pool was assured that he would also conduct full-blown press conferences.  

That was not to be.  Over his term he had an average of only 9.25 formal news conferences a year, down significantly from his three predecessors who each had more than 20.  Biden’s media advisors found that press conferences were no longer big events with live broadcasts by the TV networks.  At best a 30 second clip or two might make it the evening news or float around the internet.  It was easier to manage sound bite nuggets in more limited press interactions.  In the long form Biden had more time to ramble and reminisce, more opportunities for gaffes which seemed to blow up from minor ripples to endless late night TV bits.   As his term wore on and he seemed to be steadily declining long events were just too tiring leaving the door open to more kerfuffles.

Late in his Presidency Biden struggled in a press briefing referring Kamala Harris as "Vice President Trump and seemed exhausted and in distress.

After his disastrous debate with Trump, he stepped up events and announcements meant to showcase him as confident, able, and in charge.  They did not and Biden seemed to fade out as a Saturday Night Live sketch.

In the early days of his return Trump’s compulsive need to be on camera and the star of his own show was gratified by almost hourly egregious executive orders, announcing a parade of incompetent and ethically challenged appointments, making bellicose international threats, and taking time to poke his enemies.  He gauges his success by the level of outrage it raises in those who he hates.  Since he hates hostile questions he will limit the opportunity to ask them.  He may bring back a trick from his first maladministration—trying to revoke White House press credentials of supposed enemies and giving them to friendly alternative media—bloggers, pod casters, right wing radio, etc.  He will continue to antagonize the mainstream media and speak over their heads directly not to Americans but to his own base.

An angry Trump in his first term scolding an irritating reporter in one of his increasingly rare press conferences.  In this photo note the reporter using a cell phone to record--or perhaps even live--stream the session.
 

Both and Trump are old enough to remember President John F. Kennedy’s adroit use of the televised press conference to speak to the American people.  On January 25, 1961 JFK had the first live TV press conference at the State Department auditorium where there was ample space for the more than 200 reporters then covering the White House.  Kennedy’s good-looks, wit, and charm and a bantering style with his questioners made the broadcasts some of the original must-see-TV and helped cement the image of Camelot. 

Kennedy’s press conferences were so masterful and well-remembered that many people think he invented them.  Not so.  Presidents have been meeting with White House press corps since at least the Woodrow Wilson administration.  Before that chief executives occasionally sat for interviews but mostly communicated in speeches with the press not allowed to ask questions. 

From Wilson to Harry Truman’s early presidency, press conferences, as they came to be called, were conducted around the President’s desk in the Oval Office.  Other than still photographs no recordings were made. The sessions were held under the rule “for background only” meaning that the President could not be quoted directly without his permission.  In fact, by tacit agreement if the President inadvertently stuck his foot in his mouth, reporters often help him craft a more tactful response.  According to an article on the White House Historical Society web site:

President Truman, for example, was able to back away from a comment about Senator McCarthy that he made in a March 30, 1950, press conference. Truman said: “I think the greatest asset that the Kremlin has is Senator McCarthy.” When one of the reporters commented that the president's observation would “hit page one tomorrow,” Truman realized he had better soften the statement. He “worked” with reporters and allowed the following as a direct quotation: “The greatest asset that the Kremlin has is the partisan attempt in the Senate to sabotage the bipartisan foreign policy of the United States.”

Reporters jammed arout President Roosevelt's Desk during an off-the-record press conference.  Note the martini shaker on the President's desk--he often held these at the cocktail hour, good for the morning papers, not so good for afternoon dailies.

During this period it may come as a surprise that not-so-silent Calvin Coolidge conducted by far the most of these sessions—521 or an average of 93 a year.  But he seldom approved direct quotes.  Franklin D. Roosevelt cultivated warm relationships with the rapidly growing press corps of the Depression and World War II often calling reporters “Boys” in an affectionate congenial way not as an insulting put-down. And of course they were, with rare exceptions, all male.

During the Truman administration the press sessions outgrew the Oval Office and the President moved them to the Indian Treaty Room in the East Wing of the Old Executive Office Building now known as Eisenhower Executive Office Building.  The ornate and formal room with marble floors and vaulted ceiling had previously been used as a library for the War and Navy Departments. Initially the same off-the-record rules applied in the new venue.

Under Dwight Eisenhower the press conferences officially went “on the record.”  The old informality and familiarity was replaced with more structure.  The President had to prepare himself much more carefully for each encounter to avoid embarrassing misstatements or errors resulting in a dramatic reduction in how often they were conducted.  

Eisenhower held the first press conference to be filmed on January 19, 1955.  He announced the event as an “experiment.”  It was filmed and segments were aired that evening on the short 15 minute network TV news programs and more extensive clips were sometimes shown on the Sunday morning news programs.  Newsreels, which were still a staple at movie theaters also showed clips. 

On January 19, 1955, photographers had their equipment set up at the back of the room as reporters take their places for President Dwight Eisenhower’s news conference. It was the first conference at which full picture coverage was permitted.

After his success during his debates with Richard Nixon during the 1960 Presidential campaign Kennedy felt both confident and comfortable on TV.  He moved his first press conference from the over-crowded and noisy Treaty Room to the State Department auditorium and opted for a live broadcast.  He read a prepared statement on a famine in the Congo, the release of two American aviators from Soviet custody, and impending negotiations for an atomic test ban treaty. Then he opened the floor for questions from reporters, answering on a variety of topics including relations with Cuba, voting rights, and food aid to impoverished Americans.

His successors all tinkered with the format and location.  

The program broadcast during the day—and later sometimes in the early evening—was such a success that Kennedy repeated it about every two weeks, a more frequent schedule than any of his successors. Presidents Nixon and Ronald Reagan cut back the number of press conferences to approximately one every two months. They were moved to the more “Presidential” location of the East Room of the White House.  And they were often held in the evening to attract a larger audience.  But that annoyed viewers and outraged network executives who lost lucrative prime time advertising revenue.  During the administration of Bill Clinton the networks rebelled and refused to broadcast the evening press conferences unless they were assured spectacular news would be made.  Chief executives turned more and more to prime time addresses from the Oval Office in times of crisis and found multiple other ways to communicate with the press.  The number of formal press conferences declined administration by administration.

Barack Obama often chose the more intimate White House Press room for his pressers.  He nearly matched Kennedy's mastery of format. 

The last President to seem fully at ease in the press conference format was Barack Obama, who closely studied Kennedy’s.

The press also changed.  In addition to traditional print and broadcast media, alternative web-based outlets, including those with heavy political bias on both the left and right became more important and demanded to be added to the official press pool. 

As for Heretic, Rebel, a Thing to Flout we daily await our invite to the pool party.
 

 

William Boyd Took Hopalong Cassidy from Scruffy Cowhand to Shining TV Hero

 

William Boyd as Hopalong Cassidy on his white stallion Topper.

Summer days more than 60 years ago in Cheyenne, Wyoming we spent our days recreating in detail elaborate cowboy sagas that lasted all day—or even all week.  The we were my twin brother, Tim, a rotating cast of neighborhood kids—principally Joe Miranda and his assorted younger siblings—and when she was in town our cousin from Des Moines, Linda Strom.  For authenticity real prairie started abruptly at the end of our block complete with sagebrush, tumbleweeds, and low button cactus.  But the back yards the neighborhood with their lilac caves, wild rose hedges, palisade fences, brick walls, window wells, and the low flat roofs of car ports provided plenty of locations for ambushes and shoot-outs.

We had regular and defined parts.  Tim, handsome and charismatic was always Roy Rogers.  Linda was Bell Starr.  And me? I was Hopalong Cassidy.

***

On June 24, 1948, a little less than a year before I was born, Hopalong Cassidy premiered on NBC Television.  It was the first western series on the infant medium and it was wildly successful.  So successful that it introduced an era lasting more than 30 years when horse operas dominated the small screen. 

Clarence Mulford in 1928 banging out another Hopalong novel.

The character of Hopalong Cassidy was first introduced in 1904 in short stories by 21 year old Clarence E. Mulford, a native of Streator, Illinois, while he was living and working in Fryeburg, Maine.  He was a fan of western lore who wanted to create more realistic stories than the simple daring-do of the old dime novels.  Through research, his tales were filled with accurate details of ranch life, cowboy outfits and gear, and location.  But at heart he was still a Victorian moralist with a hero performing nobly.  

Cassidy started out as a twenty-something ranch hand elevated to foreman of the sprawling Bar-20 Ranch.  He was rude, crude, and slovenly, attributes that hid his finer qualities.  Hoppy, as he was called, got his name from sustaining a bullet to the leg in an early story, and lingering disability did often come into play.

Beginning with Bar-20 in 1906 Mulford churned out 28 novels through Hopalong Cassidy Serves a Writ in 1940.  Enormously popular he was a major rival of Zane Grey, the leading western novelist of the day.  But the Hopalong series was the first in the genre to have continuing characters and story points from book to book.  And unlike other series, Mulford’s cowboy hero and his associates, rivals, and foils aged and evolved as the series continued.

                            Hopalong's first appearance in a novel, 1907.

In 1935 Mulford’s near contemporary Harry A. Sherman bought the film rights to the book series and set up his own independent production company to make the movies.  Sherman was originally an exhibitioner who had made good money when he became the distributor for D.W. Griffith’s Birth of a Nation in the Western states in 1915.  He had always wanted to go into production and the deal with Mulford gave him his chance.

Papa Sherman, as he was known, produced more than 50 low budget two reel westerns in the series through 1944.  Although cheaply made cinematography by Russell B. Harlan and others was far above average for Poverty Row and gave the series a more expensive look. 

Sherman employed a regular sort of stock company with many characters and actors carrying over from film to film.  Veteran George Hayes, an early silent leading man who had become a stock villain at other studios, established his new sidekick character, Gabby Hayes by growing a salt-and-pepper beard, removing his false teeth, and donning a battered black hat with a turned up front brim.  Many later stars got their starts in these productions and others found work on the down sides of their careers.  Familiar costars included Victor Jory, Lee J. Cobb, Richard Dix, George Reeves, Robert Mitchum, and Albert Dekker.

Robert Mitchum  got an early screen credit as a bad guy in 1943's Hoppy Serves a Writ, the last of the film series produced by Harry Sherman.
 

Although independently produced, the films were released through major studios, first Paramount and later United Artists, which guaranteed placement in better movie houses, usually as the bottom of a double bill with an A picture.  The movies were a bonanza for the distributors who attracted the nickels of millions of kids lined up for Saturday matinées and early weekday shows that often otherwise ran to near empty houses.

What made the movie series so popular were some key decisions by producer Sherman.  First and most important was the selection of a star.  He turned not to some handsome young stud or a veteran of other westerns, but to a silent screen leading man fallen on hard times.

William Boyd as a silent era matinee idol.

William Boyd, born on June 5, 1895 in Hendrysburg in Belmont County, Ohio had been a highly successful leading man and a favorite of big time directors like Griffith and Cecil B. DeMille.  Under contract to Radio Pictures at the height of his career he was pulling down $100,000.  That came to a screeching halt, however, in 1931 when wire services picked up a story from the Los Angeles newspapers about the arrest of another actor, William “Stage” Boyd, on gambling and liquor charges.  Unfortunately the wrong actor’s picture accompanied the article.  Citing the morals clause of his contract, Radio Pictures dumped him and he found himself virtually blacklisted in Hollywood.

Having lived life large with a big house, fancy cars, and all of the accouterments of stardom along with the loss of his investments in the Great Depression, it did not take long for Boyd to fall into virtual poverty.  He scrounged for work sometimes finding small supporting roles as a businessman or professional under the name Billy Boyd. He was still living hand to mouth when he responded to Sherman’s casting call. 

Sherman was inclined to cast Boyd in the supporting role of Red Connors, an older hand on the Bar-20 and Hoppy’s frenemy.  Boyd begged to be considered for the lead role despite not having any experience in action pictures and barely able to stay on a horse.  A screen test earned him the job—unlike other candidates, he could act. 

So instead of a handsome young buckaroo Sherman found himself with a middle aged, silver haired hero.

The second big decision was to completely re-imagine the character.  Instead of the hard drinking, rough talking cowhand in rags in the first film Hop-Along Cassidy the lead was transformed into a gentlemanly teetotaler who ordered sarsaparilla at the bar, who was unfailingly courteous to women, and always let the bad guy slap leather first or throw the first punch.  And instead of tatters, Hoppy was adorned in close-fitting black from the tips of his handsomely tooled Texas cowboy boots to the Ten Gallon black Stetson on his head.  Boyd was not the first cowboy star to buck the white hat rule—Tom Mix and Ken Maynard had occasionally worn them—but he was the first to make it a regular trademark.

And not just any range pony would do.  Hoppy was mounted on a magnificent white stallion, Topper who made the later TV Lone Ranger’s Silver look like a puny runt.  Of course Hoppy sat comfortably in a handsomely tooled black saddle.

This recipe was enough for the new series to successfully compete against the singing cowboy movies of Gene Autry, John Wayne as Randy, and that upstart Roy Rogers who had come to dominate the B movie westerns.  And unlike the products of Republic and other studios who usually set their films in the modern west with telephones, automobiles, and radio, the Hopalong series remained rooted in stories of the Old West.

The final decision was to chuck Mulford’s stories and novels as source material.  It was just too hard to adapt the stories to Hoppy’s new image.  While keeping Hopalong rooted to the Bar-20, he was given more freedom to roam becoming something of a knight errant with pearl handled revolvers righting wrongs across the west.

Silent screen actor and stock villain in early western talkies, George Hayes began a hugely sucesful second career billed as Gabby Hayes, the comic side kick first of Hopalong and later with Gene Autry, John Wayne, Roy Rogers, and Randolph Scott.

In the films Cassidy was usually accompanied by either an elderly comic side kick or a hero worshiping youth or, most frequently, both.  These were not characters, but types whose names and particulars changed as different actors filled the slot.  George Hayes was the first sidekick, Windy Halliday billed for the first time as Gabby.  Very popular with audiences he left the series in a salary dispute and moved on to Republic where he was soon paired with Gene Autry, John Wayne, Roy Rogers, and later at other studios with Randolph Scott.  He was replaced first by Britt Wood as Speedy McGinnis and then by comedian Andy Clyde as California Carlson who lasted through the end of the movie series.

The juveniles, eager and well-meaning but trouble prone, were played by James Ellison, Russell Hayden, George Reeves, and Rand Brooks.  Hayden went on to a substantial career in two reel westerns and B gangster flicks.  Reeves, of course, rose to fame as TV’s Superman.

Meanwhile Mulford, the creator of the original character was making out well not only from royalties from the films but from renewed interest in his books.  From 1935 to 1940 he wrote three new Hopalong books reflecting the hero as he appeared in the movies.  He also went back and re-wrote many of his earlier titles adapting them to movie goers’ expectations.

Despite the continuing popularity of the series, Sherman dreamed of becoming a producer of quality A pictures.  He announced he was ending the series in 1944.  By then his star William Boyd had become very identified with the part.  He had learned how to ride passably and how to duke it out with the bad guys.  He enjoyed the adulation of young fans—and the substantial income he earned from special appearances with Topper.  He gambled his entire future on Hopalong Cassidy, mortgaging virtually everything he owned to buy both the character rights from Mulford and the catalog of movies from Sherman.

And then he set out, with his own production company, to continue the series.  He churned out 12 more films.  But he had even less production money than Sherman and the pictures were visibly cheaper.

The heyday of the two reel western was coming to an end.  Major distributors were dropping them.  Unless he had the money to upgrade to color, as Roy Rogers was successfully doing, there seemed little hope.  The principal culprit was the rise of a new competitive medium, television, which threatened to keep all of those Saturday afternoon popcorn munchers at home.

Boyd, with everything to lose, decided to throw in with the butcher who was cutting the throat of his golden goose.  In 1948 he approached NBC Television which aired a handful of his old films.  The response was so overwhelming that before Boyd could get in production with an original series for the air, the network put up a regular series drastically edited to a half hour format from the 66 original movies.  

The opening credits for the NBC repackaging of the Hopalong films included the the introduction from the 1935 first film, Hop-Along Cassidy even though the character no longer had a hyphenated name.

The series premiered on June 24, 1949.  It was the first regular western series on television and a huge hit.  By 1950 Boyd was a megastar, his picture as Hopalong Cassidy adorning the covers of national magazines like Look, Life, and Time.

An astute businessman, Boyd was the first western star to see the value in merchandising.  He licensed hundreds of products bearing his likeness as Hopalong.  Most famously the cowboy was the first ever to appear on a school lunch box causing sales for Aladdin Industries to jump from 50,000 units to 600,000 units in just one year.  Hoppy merchandise generated $70 million in revenue for more than 100 companies.  In 1950 Boyd personally earned over $800,000 in licensing, endorsements, and public appearances.

The huge success of the Hopalong Cassidy school lunch box helped launch the age of tie-in merchandising and helped make William Boyd very rich.

Boyd did get up production of his new originals series with Edgar Buchanan as Red Carlson, the character Boyd had first auditioned for, now upgraded to the comic sidekick.  Broadcast as a separate series from the re-packaged movies, this show was rated No. 7 nationally in 1950.  Boyd also starred in a radio version which began on the Mutual Network in 1950 and jumped to CBS where it ran until 1952 with movie side kick Andy Clyde back to reprise California Carlson.

Fawcett Comics had been running a series of comic books since 1946 which was taken over by DC Comics in 1954.  The now highly collectable books ran through 136 issues through 1959.  Western Publishing issued several coloring books.  January 1950 Dan Spiegel began to draw a syndicated comic strip with scripts by Royal King Cole which lasted until 1955.

In 1950 a deal with Castle Films brought the original movies distributed by Paramount to the home market in 16 mm sound and 8 mm silent versions.  These stone age videos enlivened many a child’s birthday party.

Both versions of the TV series and the original movies were all available in TV syndication until they were withdrawn from circulation in the late 1960’s.

Boyd, now wealthy, retired with his fifth wife to Palm Desert, California where he had significant real estate and development holdings.  Suffering from Parkinson’s disease as he aged he shunned photographs and interviews so that he would not disappoint the memory of his fans.  He died in 1972 in Laguna Beach at the age of 77.

Hopalong Cassidy did not die.  He did become hard to find for a while.  Boyd’s heirs licensed restored prints of the films to the basic cable Western Channel in the mid-1990’s where they ran until they were again withdrawn in 2000.  DVDs for home viewing are hard to find outside of a couple of cheaply made compilation discs and an expensive package of the whole television run.

The lobby card of an early 1936 Sherman drew critical praise on its release and featured Gabby Hayes as sidekick Windy Haliday.  Soon he would be billed as Gabby.

The character as envisioned originally by Mulford was resurrected in four novels by western novel master Louis L’Amor and in a series of short stories in Follow Your Stars by Susie Coffman in 2005.  Some of Mulford’s original novels have been reprinted, along with a few of the versions he revised to fit the movie character.  Readers are advised to check carefully which they are buying as the originals are considered far better.

And, of course, Hopalong replays eternally in the memory theater of his now aging fans.