Category Archives: Music Hall

From Theatre to Music Hall

This is an amended version of my original post on Maggie Duggan as a reader has very kindly given me the correct information about her birth. She doesn’t have a birth record at the General Register Office in London, which was common amongst poorer families. She was born in Liverpool in 1857 and not 1860 as I had thought. The 1861 census shows her family living at 47 Blenheim Street in Liverpool. Her mother, Mary, is listed as the head of the household and as a sailor’s wife. Maggie was six months old and her sister, Sarah, was nine. Both Mary and Sarah have their place of birth listed as Ireland which could explain the later confusion over Maggie’s birthplace and accent when she was on the stage.

In an interview in the trade magazine, The Era, Maggie revealed she made her first appearance in a pantomime in her early childhood at the Adelphi Theatre, Liverpool. Her salary was three shillings a week and she was expected to provide her own boots. She disagreed with people who thought it wrong that children should act in pantomime saying ‘Tis very often delightful to the youngsters – – pantomime children are very often taken from poverty-stricken surroundings and taught the rudiments of an art that may bring them fame and fortune.’ The interviewer saw this as her opinion but it could have been her own experience.

Maggie Duggan travelled as a member of a ballet troupe and then took the giant step of moving to the Cape as part of a theatre group. On arrival, she had trouble learning her lines and was so bad the manager declared he would send her home by the same boat that had brought her out. She persevered and added a hornpipe to her role which was so well received she stayed on and was at the Cape for two years. On her return to England she worked with burlesque and comic opera companies where she performed ‘breeches parts’ saying that she would feel dreadfully ill at ease in petticoats. The newspaper article is careful to add ‘that is, of course, on the stage.’ She thought a woman of her size looked ungainly in skirts on the stage.

There is a confusing remark from Maggie Duggan that the heroes of musical comedy were all played by men and, although she loved that kind of entertainment, she was looking for something different. Does this make sense after the breeches roles? Perhaps they were all burlesque. Maggie made a big splash with the Gaiety company in the second outing of the burlesque, Cinder-Ellen Up Too Late, taking the part of the Prince of Belgravia previously played by a man. During the performance she sang two music hall songs – The Man who Broke the Bank at Monte Carlo and The Rowdy-Dowdy Boys.The first of these had been plugged by Charles Coburn at The Oxford but when Maggie Duggan sang it Charles Coburn’s share of the royalties rose to £600. The other song was a music hall hit for Millie Hylton.

The popularity of these songs may have finally decided Maggie Duggan to switch to music hall, although it wasn’t always easy. She lamented the lack of good songs saying she could buy a hundred and just find one worth singing. In 1900 there is an advert in the Music Hall and Theatre Review placed by Maggie Duggan requesting good low comedy and character songs. She found the lack of rehearsal in music halls equally hard as the band could often be at cross purposes with the singer during a performance. Also, in her previous career she was better known on the provincial stage and worried it would be hard to get work in London halls.
This may have been unfounded as in 1894 we find in The Era that she moved from Birmingham to the London Alhambra and ‘other west end halls.’

Maggie Duggan excelled in pantomime with her height and build making for an excellent principal boy. She was in demand in Leeds, Manchester, Liverpool and, perhaps best for her career, Drury Lane. Ada Reeve in her autobiography, Take it For a Fact, talks about working with her in Little Boy Blue in 1893. Maggie Duggan played her role as principal boy ‘in the dashing, strutting manner peculiar to those days. Her trademark was a diamond butterfly which she wore pinned to her tights on her thigh.’

In June 1905 a headline in the London Morning Leader proclaimed in heavy type, Bigamy with Maggie Duggan. The court case was brought by Mrs Amy Ward against her husband, Thomas William Ward, and she asked for the dissolution of her marriage which had taken place in 1892. The couple separated in 1895 and Amy Ward alleged her husband was guilty of desertion, bigamy and misconduct. She had recently discovered her husband had entered into a bigamous marriage with Maggie Duggan. The petitioner had her watched when she was appearing at the Tivoli Music Hall, Manchester, and discovered that she and the respondent were living as man and wife. Mr Ward admitted the bigamous marriage but had been under the impression his wife was dead. Maggie Duggan was a widow when she married Mr Ward who had shown her a newspaper advertisement which she believed to be a notice of the death of his former wife. Mrs Ward obtained a degree nisi with costs.

Maggie Duggan died in 1919 in the Liverpool workhouse infirmary from bronchial pneumonia accelerated by alcohol. She was sixty years old and had retired from the stage some fifteen years earlier.

Thanks to The British Newspaper Archive, Monomania archive, Winkles and Champagne -Wilson Disher, Take it for a Fact -Ada Reeve

Many thanks to Raymond Crawford who took the trouble to read the post and contact me with the correct information.




.

Arabella Allen – The Dickens Girl

During a visit to the Britannia Panopticon in Glasgow, the oldest music hall in the world, I was introduced to someone from the hall who very kindly shared the story of a member of her family who had been a music hall performer. Later she sent me pictures of the artiste in costume and these had such personality and presence that I was intrigued and wanted to write a blog about her.

Margaret Esther Clarkson was born in Liverpool in 1883. There are two dates given for her birth, 20th January and 22nd April. The earlier date is probably accurate as she was baptised on 18th February 1883 at St Thomas, Liverpool. By her own account she was an avid reader and re-reader of the works of Charles Dickens while growing up. He was so famous he would still have been in the minds of the public although he died in 1870. Margaret enjoyed mimicry and impersonation, moving from amusing her brothers and sisters to entertaining at amateur concerts. She gave impersonations of Shakespearean characters, recited monologues and played the violin. According to an interview in Cassells Magazine from July 1906 Margaret’s friends ‘were continually advising my parents to place me on the music-hall stage.’ She went on to say her parents were prejudiced against music halls and hesitated to encourage their daughter to become a professional performer on the halls. They did not want her to endure the precarious life of thousands of music hall artistes and ‘practically stipulated’ she should be a success from the start. Luckily, it seems she was.

Arabella Allen

Margaret’s fondness for Dickens was put to good use as it was decided she should try some of Dickens’s male characters who would be reasonably well known. It also meant she wouldn’t be seen as a low entertainer, but rather a refined one. She used the stage name Arabella Allen, who was a character from The Pickwick Papers, and called herself ‘The Dickens Girl.’ Bransby Williams, a popular stage performer, had made a name for himself in the halls depicting characters from Dickens and Shakespeare before Arabella Allen appeared on the scene. I’ve been unable to find any reference to his opinion of this young rival. She received glowing reviews which mention her intelligence and engaging personality.

The Sketch


Arabella Allen started to be mentioned in the trade papers in 1904 with The Sketch featuring a page of photos from her act at the London Pavilion. She seems to have caught the eye of magazine editors and in July 1906 Cassells magazine included a long interview with Arabella entitled Marvels in Make-up. The magazine’s editor called it a very curious and remarkable article. He pointed out that ‘several other stories and articles will be found in our issue, but I have ventured to select a few outstanding features so that our readers may realise, that every month we are making special efforts to maintain the reputation of Cassells Magazine for lively, interesting and entertaining matter.’ The magazine had articles, short stories and serialisation of novels which would mainly appeal to men so this seemed a departure from the norm and rather daring. Arabella Allen was obviously a big hit in the music hall but still respectable enough to be interviewed.

Uriah Heep

Arabella knew the importance of changing costume and make-up in the shortest possible time to keep the audience engaged. She went off stage to change her costume but applied her make-up on stage, sitting at a small table with her back to the audience, thus heightening the atmosphere and expectation. She said she prepared for her act by reading a book through twice – once to gain an idea of the story and the second time to make a study of the characters. If a character particularly appealed and she felt it would make entertaining theatre she would take a dramatic extract from the book and study it together with the character. Arabella would get ideas for costumes from descriptive passages in the books and she remarked she found Cruikshank’s drawings of Dickens’s characters invaluable.

Pete the Manxman


Facial expression was also important and she told how she often sat in front of her looking glass for hours trying to ‘set’ her face properly for a particular character. Then she would ‘make up’ the features using as few lines as possible for speed on stage. Arabella also impersonated female characters from Dickens as well as Shakespearean characters and characters from popular books of the time. Pete the Manxman was a character from a novel, The Manxman, written by Hall Caine and published in 1894. The novel used Manx dialect and Manx Gaelic words and phrases which may have attracted Arabella as it was an extra challenge. She also got the chance to play the violin. Audiences would have known the character as the book was serialised in magazines and became a bestseller.

1920

Arabella married Basil Hart Cole in 1915 and at a later date we find her working with a Basil Hart, presumably the same person. She worked through World War l but by 1920 interest in the music hall had waned and we find her diversifying into pantomime, revue and concert parties. 1920 saw Arabella in Leeds taking a leading role in Fizz, ‘the latest musical success’, with Basil Hart as business manager. In 1921 she appeared as Widow Twankey in Aladdin in Cannock with Basil Hart as the Emperor. In 1922 they were both members of The Criterions on the Britannia Pier, Yarmouth. In 1923 Arabella Allen and Basil Hart are listed as a double act at the Empire Cinema in Luton. The following week Arabella appeared at the same venue as the Dickens Girl while Basil was a singer of high class songs on the same bill. In 1926 she is listed as a member of Ronald Frankau’s ‘Cabaret Kittens’ which was billed as a comedy show at the South Parade Pier, Portsmouth.

1930

In 1930 there was an advert in the trade paper, The Stage, placed by Arabella on her return from a two year tour of America and Australia. She was looking for work but kept to her high standards. The last mention I could find about her career was an appearance at the Harbour Pavilion, Morcambe, in 1932 where she was said to ‘impersonate with reality.’

Arabella Allen died in Liverpool in 1948 at sixty-five years of age. She seems to have been a bright, versatile character, keen to uphold her respectable image and continuing to live up to her early reviews. Her impersonations ‘put her not only in the first rank of the music hall profession but stamp her as a really gifted actress.’ I was told she never appeared at the Britannia Panopticon as she was considered too high class for their usual audience. I’ve enjoyed looking into the life of this music hall performer and I sincerely hope I’ve done her justice.

Quilp
Squeers




Thanks to M @BritPanopticon for your help and kindness

@BNArchive @BritPanopticon @britishlibrary

Slumming it!

If you saw yourself as a respectable person in 1851 you did not frequent the ‘Penny Gaff’ as described by Henry Mayhew in London Labour and the London Poor. It was a place of entertainment considered to be coarse and vulgar, which led to low morals in the young. The visitors, with few exceptions, were all boys and girls, whose ages seemed to vary from eight to twenty years. Some of the girls – though their figures showed them to be mere children – were dressed in showy cotton-velvet polkas, and wore dowdy feathers in their crushed bonnets. – – Some of them chose their partners and commenced dancing grotesquely, to the admiration of the lookers-on, who expressed their approbation in obscene terms – – that were received as compliments, and acknowledged with smiles and coarse repartees.

It’s not surprising that the music hall, a room usually attached to a pub in the early days, should inherit this reputation. Music hall owners and managers were keen to throw off this image and provided sumptuous surroundings and new acts to enhance respectability. There was a move to engage artistes from the ‘legitimate’ theatre and concert hall. They would rub shoulders with trick-cyclists, male impersonators and ventriloquists. Emily Soldene was ahead of the pack, appointed by Charles Morton to appear at the Oxford in the mid 1860s. She was a classically trained opera singer but was unable to secure the roles her manager expected hence he suggested she try the halls. Going to sing at a music hall was indeed a come-down. It hurt my artistic pride. Appearing as Miss Fitzhenry she sang operatic selections as well as patriotic songs which became popular with military and naval men. She appeared on a bill with Nellie Power, a pretty young girl who had a nice mother – – did a very fetching jockey song and dance. Making her name in music hall, Emily Soldene went on to star in opera-bouffe (French comic opera) and to manage her own company, travelling to Australia and settling there for some years before returning to England when she found herself in financial difficulty. In 1906 a benefit was held for her at the Palace Theatre which raised upwards of £800.

The great French actress, Sarah Bernhardt, accepted a month long contract from Oswald Stoll to appear at the London Coliseum in 1910 but had thought she was appearing in a ‘legitimate’ theatre. At first she was most unhappy about the engagement but by the time she arrived in England she had convinced herself that English music halls are so refined and she recognised the great intelligence of your music hall patron. Although her dramatic excerpts were in French the house was packed for every performance, with the telephone exchange unable to cope with the demand for advance tickets.

Almost thirty years before, in 1882, Sarah Bernhardt had failed to appear at a hall at the Blackpool Winter Garden. The Ulster Echo was of the opinion that the great actress was indignant at being asked to appear in a hall instead of at the theatre. She herself wrote I was suffering very much when I went to the theatre from a sore throat, which took away the greater part of my voice. I thought I was to play in a theatre, and not in a hall containing 15,000 persons. The managers told me to continue – – and they would be satisfied if they could only see me gesticulate. I am an artiste and not an exhibition. She did not continue and her tour came to an abrupt end.

Music halls were known to pay their successful artistes more than the legitimate theatre which could be an incentive for performers to ignore their moral compass and give audiences at the halls the benefit of their superior entertainment. It could also be the case that a performer who had not had success on the stage would try the halls which, in their minds, had lower standards and whose audiences would be impressed by their attempts at entertainment. In 1892, Miss Ida Ferrers, who had worked for some time in theatre, sued a theatrical agent for damages as he had failed to give her tuition or to get her a music hall engagement despite him receiving twenty shillings to do so. The defendant responded that the money was paid for him to provide three songs and to procure her a try-out at a music hall. He arranged a ‘show’ at the Trocadero where the band was present earlier than usual for her try-out. Miss Ferrers didn’t turn up because she had a bad throat. The agent gave her a letter of introduction at the Tivoli asking for a rehearsal but she was unable to sing the first note, despite encouragement, and later the manager at Gatti’s reported she was very amateurish in her singing. She was finally offered an engagement in the pantomime Humpty-Dumpty at Drury Lane but did not accept it. She said it was not enough money. Miss Ferrers did not win the case.

I’ll leave you with a description of performers from a ‘Penny Gaff’ written by Henry Mayhew. Presently one of the performers, with a gilt crown on his well-greased locks, descended from the staircase, his fleshings covered by a dingy dressing-gown, and mixed with the mob, shaking hands with old acquaintances. The ‘comic singer’ too, made his appearance among the throng – the huge bow to his cravat, which nearly covered his waistcoat, and the red end to his nose, exciting neither merriment or surprise.



Thanks to The British Newspaper Archive, London Labour and the London Poor – Henry Mayhew, My Theatrical and Musical Recollections – Emily Soldene, Monomania collection.

Revill and Syd ‘still trying’

We left Revill and Syd at the beginning of the 1930s when money was tight and work was hard to come by. A note to Syd and Ethel, written by Gordon on a memo from Dale Forty Piano Merchants, regretted that business was so bad for the couple. He went on to say that the slump was general and that the workers in his company had their salaries reduced by 10%.

In 1933 Syd received a letter from Bill Hengler, another performer, asking for repayment of a loan. Hengler needed the money for a court case but stressed ‘this request would not be made if circumstances did not demand it.’ Angeline Hengler apologised in a letter the same year that Bill had not yet thanked Syd for the return of the loan but he ‘had to rush off on Monday for panto rehearsals – – a lot of waste of time.’ Galling for Syd and Ethel who were struggling to find work.

Syd wrote material for their act and amongst the papers is a rather bitter, unfinished letter, heavy with sarcasm. Written from ‘The Pier, Southend (11th week)’ to John and Bill, it begins ‘was tickled to death to get your letter from Middlesboro. Dear old Middlesboro. How I envied you and with Corn Dekker too. Dear old Corn. In fact he’s more than a corn. He’s a malicious growth.’ Corn Dekker was part of an acrobatic act with his partner, Elly Pan. The letter goes on ‘and then you motored from Middlesboro to Rhyl. Well that was nice for you.’ Was this a letter written in anger or was it used as part of the act? Corn Dekker and Elly Pan, the Well-Balanced Pair, were bottom of the bill performers but worked venues such as the Chiswick Empire and the Pavilion Liverpool while Revill and Syd were asked by Percy Hall’s Agency to pencil in Scarboro for one night. ‘As it is the off season and no visitors Jack Gillam cannot afford to pay any money.’ There was the chance to set up a seven-day engagement at the same venue, £12 top whack, if they hadn’t played the town for three years. Presumably this relied on them doing the unpaid night to show willing and there was no guarantee they would get the seven nights.

A monologue/song penned by Syd gives us an idea of how performers tried to make it in the business, moving from one type of act to another until they ran out of options. We have a singer, dancer, juggler and pickpocket, among others. In 1934 Revill and Syd’s strap line was a poignant ‘Still Trying’ while in 1936 they were Revill and Syd ‘Who just Fool Around.’ In the next decade Syd performed solo, billed as the ‘Cheery Chatterbox’ and ‘Tall and Talkative.’ He also took on the role of comedian compère at The Vic, Burnley in 1942 and in 1948 was part of a comedy team in Folkestone’s resident company,‘K’Nights of Joy.


In 1950 Syd took over the role of comedian compère at Worthing Pier Pavilion for a new Saturday Evening Party series. The local paper warned of the waning popularity of the parties and noted the tendency in Worthing to persist too long with a type of show because it was originally successful. This could not have raised Syd’s spirits and it’s the last reference to his working life I was able to trace.

Syd Revill


In 1969 his wife, Ethel, placed a notice in the trade paper, The Stage, in his memory. Syd and Ethel left a trace of their lives in the letters, scribbled scripts and contracts which I was lucky enough to find. Syd featured strongly in these but Ethel kept them safe. I wish I knew more about her.

Thanks to the British Newspaper Archive and the Monomania collection.

Not her brother, but her husband.

In a previous blog I mentioned Annie Casey, a performer I knew little about, but my interest was sparked by a postcard. The information I found was brief and sometimes conflicting, leaving me a little confused. This all changed recently when Annie’s grandson, Mike Casey, contacted me and was kind enough to share information about Annie and her husband Will. I had previously thought Will was her brother from a newspaper report of the time. I am so pleased and grateful to Mike and hope this blog puts the previous one to rights and does justice to a hardworking and interesting performer.

Annie Casey was born Hannah Mitchell in Wynyard Station, County Durham, and was the second of seven children born to George Mitchell and Emily Ann Gofton. She married Will Casey on March 4th 1902 at Chorlton upon Medlock, Manchester. The marriage certificate tells us that Will was a comedian but nothing is listed under rank or profession for Hannah. It was after her marriage that she began to perform on stage as Annie Mitchell, sometimes using the names Mrs Will Casey or Annie Casey.


Annie and Will toured together as a double act and Will wrote and appeared in short plays. Annie joined him in many plays including Her Sailor Lover, The Lover’s Lament and A Wife’s Devotion, the latter being described as brimful of excruciatingly funny comedy.Their signature tune was a typically jolly Come Lasses and Lads which had originally been sung around the maypole.

On March 3rd 1927 Annie and Will put a notice in the trade paper, The Stage, celebrating their silver wedding saying the marriage had been 25 years of the best. May it long continue. Their address is given as 197 Sheffield Road, Barnsley. Will died the same year and Annie moved to Blackpool where she died in 1940.

In 1960 a letter was published in the Daily Mirror referring to a mention of Will Casey. Mrs N Greatorex de Vere wrote of having toured with Annie and Will, describing him as a comedian and Annie as a soubrette, and finding them a lovable couple. She goes on to say they travelled with a specially reinforced bed as landladies complained their beds could not support the combined weight of the Caseys. Will was 36 stone and Annie around 28 stone.


Thanks to Mike Casey, British Newspaper Archive, Monomania collection.


It must be true – it’s in the paper!

A chance find of a page of adverts from the Music Hall and Theatre Review made me wonder how much we could glean of the performers’ lives from the persuavise proclamations. Did they believe the claims or take them with a pinch of salt? Let’s have a look at the mundane and the magnificent.

In many of the postcards of music hall artistes they are not smiling, or they’re smiling with closed mouths as their teeth were not in a good state. Help was at hand from the People’s Teeth Association who offered single teeth and dainty teeth sets for actresses with teeth sets available from £1.


The life of the music hall performer was a wearing one, often rushing from hall to hall and travelling long distances to the next booking with costumes and props. The advertisers were keen to help them look their best, however tired, and one way to pep up their appearance was with cheek plumpers. These were supplied by E. Rowland, hygiene and toilet specialists.


There were businesses supplying wigs to the profession but it seems not all wigs were equal. A small advert placed by Bird, 8 Lower Marsh, Lambeth claimed to be the cheapest house for all kind of wigs – also selling props, vento figures and animal dresses. A rather Dickensian feel to that one. C. Holz, on the other hand, used only the very best hair for ladies wigs and stocked good burlesque wigs at moderate prices. Here is Miss Fossett, burlesque actress.

W. Clarkson, who seems to have been the champion wig maker, boasted of being a ‘Wig-Maker of all the Principal Ladies and Gentlemen in the Profession and Costumier to Misses Harriet Vernon, Vesta Tilley, Marie Lloyd and others.’ The Arthur Lloyd site has some interesting information on the man and his business. http://www.arthurlloyd.co.uk/Backstage/ClarksonWigs.htm


H.& M. Rayne supplied a large range of theatrical goods including costumes, tights, boots, shoes and symmetricals. Symmetricals were padded tights to give the wearer shapely hips and calves and a more voluptuous figure. Performers who could not afford Rayne’s symmetricals could make their own from cotton wool and a pair of tights. Kitty Lord, eccentric English singer, is almost certainly wearing symmetricals in this photo. For the less adventurous, Reid’s sold best worsted tights at seven shillings a pair or three pairs for twenty shillings.

Songwriters advertised their skills, often in a rather terse manner as we can see from Frank Leo’s advertisement.

My favourite advert is for a complete Pierrot costume available from Gamages. Based on the wistful figure of Pierrot from pantomime, these more robust entertainers appeared over many years in concert parties, on beach stages and at the end of the pier. All male troupes gave way to mixed groups of men and women wearing the conical hat and white top and trousers decorated with black pom-poms. Here are Catlin’s Scarborough Pierrots.

There are many more adverts for boarding houses (good cooking), photographic studios (with style and distinction) and tricycles (extreme comfort, no vibration) giving us an insight into the performers who scoured the pages to improve their working lives.

Thanks to the British Newspaper Archive, Arthur Lloyd, Monomania collection.


All Change

A chance purchase of a postcard drew me into the intense world of the quick change artist, popular in music hall and theatre at the beginning of the twentieth century. Audiences loved the performers who would take on many characters changing costume, usually behind a screen, time after time in just a few seconds. One such was Fatima Miris, real name Maria Frassinesi, from Bologna in Italy who was inspired by Leopoldo Fregoli an admired quick change artist and singer. In 1907 she came to the attention of Oswald Stoll, music hall owner extraordinaire, and was engaged to appear at the London Hippodrome straight from her success in Bologna. She presented the Marchioness Divina at the Hippodrome acting seven different characters of various ages, never being off-stage for more than five seconds. There is much farcical content with characters hiding in cupboards, mistaken identities and finally pistol shots and a chase in which all the characters run through the room in rapid succession. The chase was so fast that the audience could believe they were seeing several figures at once. There is an excellent video on YouTube showing Fatima Miris in action posted by albarnardon.

In Bologna the artiste had produced The Geisha, performing fifteen parts and changing costume 175 times over three hours. She could sing soprano, alto, tenor and baritone. In fact, she was so skilled that rumours began to circulate that she used a double in the act. The management of the Hippodrome took this as a slight on their reputation and offered a reward of £1000 to anyone who could prove a double was used. The reward was never claimed. She toured for some years, taking in North and South America, Australia, New Zealand and Egypt before retiring in the mid 1920s. However in 1932 Fatima Miris embarked on a final farewell tour and returned to South America where the public had never forgotten her.

Also around 1907 there was a young Italian quick change artist, said to be twelve years of age and calling herself Fregolina, billed as The Miniature Fregoli. The reporter for John Bull found ‘the juvenile prodigy, as a rule – – a burden grievous to be borne’ but that Fregolina was an exception – indeed a genius. Her quick changes of costume included the characters of policeman, French comedienne, Italian peasant girl, priest and a musical clown. She also portrayed composers such as Liszt, Wagner and Verdi conducting the resident orchestra with much energy and using much facial expression, being recalled again and again.

Our third quick change artiste, Madame Fregolia (that name again) appeared in Ireland and England a little later, mainly between 1912 and 1914. She was Austrian and the Daily Express described her as one of those high class turns from the Continental variety stage going on to say this exceedingly clever turn must be seen to be thoroughly appreciated. Having survived railway collisions, fire and flood in her travels Madame Fregolia took audiences by storm with her rapid changes of costume. During her act she showed a film taken behind the scenes giving away the secrets of her lightning changes. She opened the act with double-voiced singing, moving on to her fifty or so quick changes in hour, employing a complete change of character for each. On receiving a standing ovation at the Royalty Theatre Madame Fregolia took a series of quick curtain calls making a lightning change between each to appear in different Court dress. In an interview in 1914 Fregolia, who was appearing in Dublin, said she was delighted by her reception and that she found Irish audiences more responsive and more lively than the English while French and Italian audiences were too lively for her taste. Perhaps a risky comment in a newspaper interview.

Thanks to British newspaper archive.co.uk, Monomania Collection, albarnardon

.

A Charming Presence

Lil Hawthorne was an American singer and comedienne, born in 1877. After various childhood acting roles she headed for the variety stage, aged fourteen, as one of the Three Sisters Hawthorne. There was a fashion for ‘sister’ acts at the time but, unlike many, the Hawthornes were three real sisters. They came to London from New York and in June 1898 the Music Hall and Theatre Review enthusiatically proclaimed they achieved ‘an instantaneous success’. One of their successes was in an operetta The Willow Pattern Plate performed at the Oxford, the Tivoli and the Pavilion – all London halls.

Despite their popularity, two of the sisters returned to America while Lil tried her luck as a solo performer. In 1900 she was starring on the Moss and Thornton circuit travelling to South Shields, Hull, Liverpool, Manchester, Bradford, Glasgow and Edinburgh. The Edinburgh Evening Dispatch described her as ‘the original warbler of several world-known medleys’ adding that she had a sweet voice with due regard for modulation. Sweet Rosie O’ Grady was her most popular song with another favourite being I’ll be your Sweetheart, a song my grandmother sang after a glass or two of Guinness. Reviews suggested she marked a step forward in the entertainment of the music hall, being both charming and refined. The owners of the halls were struggling to cast off their less than savoury image and Lil appealed to their vision of the future. She was also a popular principal boy in pantomime for some years.

Belle Elmore

In 1899 Lil married John Nash who became her manager and they later became involved in the case of Dr Crippen and Belle Elmore, an aspiring music hall performer but with little talent. Lil Hawthorne and Belle Elmore were both members of the Music Hall Ladies’ Guild where Belle was treasurer. They became friends and the two couples would visit one another and dine together. The Nashes were visiting America when Crippen’s secretary, Ethel Le Neve, visited Melinda May, secretary of the Ladies Guild and gave her a letter. The letter was written by Dr Crippen saying that Belle had gone to America owing to the illness of some relatives and that a new treasurer should be elected for a few months. Nothing was received from Belle herself.

On their return Lil Hawthorne and her husband were told the story of Belle’s illness and death in America. They were worried by the turn of events and John Nash tried, unsuccessfully, to find out where Belle had died and where she was cremated. By this time Ethel Le Neve had moved into the Crippen’s house and was wearing some of Belle’s jewellery. Others in the music hall world were worried and Vulcana, the strongwoman, had approached the police with her fears. John Nash talked to Crippen and was so disturbed he took a taxi straight to Scotland Yard.

Dr Crippen and Ethel Le Neve were arrested en route to Canada on an ocean liner with Ethel Le Neve dressed as a boy. They were posing as father and son but aroused suspicion and the newly invented telegraph was used to relay the information to Scotland Yard. Human remains were found buried in the basement of 39 Hilldrop Crescent, the Crippen’s home. Crippen was found guilty and given the death sentence while Ethel Le Neve was exonerated. Lil Hawthorne and John Nash gave evidence at the trial in 1910 and in 1911 the Treasury authorised payment to them of £100 to cover expenses incurred and loss of earnings. A few years later they moved to America where Lil Hawthorne died of heart problems in 1926, aged forty-nine.


Thanks to the British Newspaper Archive and the Monomania collection.

A Good Night Out

Music hall audiences had a reputation for rowdiness, often well deserved, as they didn’t attempt to hold back their feelings about an artiste. However this was mild compared to theatre in the Georgian period when the gentry would invade the stage during a performance causing the actors the indignity of elbowing their way to the front to say their lines. Spitting, bottle and orange peel throwing and sword-fighting were also audience pursuits, while the singing of popular songs competed with the thespians speaking from the stage. There was a fashion for the wealthier patrons to use their footman to save a seat, which meant the servant could be sitting next to ‘a lady of the first quality’ – just not done.

In the earlier part of the nineteenth century Song and Supper rooms in public houses, known as Free and Easies, were a form of popular entertainment. Entry was free but the audience were expected, nay encouraged, to buy alcoholic drink. Originally only men were admitted and the entertainment came from within the audience with amateur singers strutting their stuff. A reporter tells us ‘the entertainment given at these pothouses are of a low order. Songs are badly sung, mumbled or bawled with an earsplitting accent.’ This didn’t put off the punters and gradually landlords added rooms for the entertainment nights which could be two or three times a week. The Free and Easies developed a reputation for drunkeness and bad behaviour. A letter to the Fleetwood Chronlcle in 1876 tells of the writer passing a Free and Easy in Blackpool ’out of which four boys were coming, and into which two were going; one of them was smoking a short pipe and the others were using profane language; the ages of these boys were from twelve and fourteen years.’ In the same year the chief constable of Preston described a Saturday night where five to six hundred young persons, half of them apparently under the age of sixteen, were to be found in a Free and Easy. Women and girls were now enjoying this kind of entertainment and young women would often take their babies. Groups of women, unaccompanied by men, were common with work-mates and neighbours meeting up for a good night out. The Manchester Evening News in 1877 reported the Chief Constable of that area proposed there should be Free and Easies without intoxicating drinks but which instead would sell cocoa. This seemed doomed to failure.

Wilton’s Music Hall 1859

As the popularity of this form of entertainment grew the halls increased in size and professional acts were engaged. In the early halls the audience sat around tables, some facing away from the stage, and food and drink were served by waiters. There was much coming and going and the performer, without the luxury of a microphone, would battle to be heard above the general hubbub. Gradually music halls were built as separate buildings with audiences sitting in rows on various levels with bars for the the purchase of drinks. The main bar of the Metropolitan, Edgware, had a wide glass panel through which the entertainment could be viewed. The top tier, the gallery, was usually the rowdiest with the ’gallery boys’ hurling rotten fruit and veg, dead cats and even iron rivets at the stage to show their displeasure. The orchestra pit was often covered in wire netting to protect the musicians. The music hall managers were constantly engaged in trying to make their halls respectable with licence renewal a major worry. A contract from the Parthenon Music Hall Liverpool, signed by Adelaide and Oswald Stoll, contains the rule ’Every artiste must stringently avoid introducing any obscene Song, Saying or Gesture’. They were up against such reformers as Mrs Ormiston Chant who saw the halls as dens of depravity with predatory prostitutes and crude performers from whom the lower classes needed protection.

Marie Lloyd

In 1909 the unfortunate Miss Charlesworth appeared at the Islington Hippodrome (later Collins), the Canterbury and the Paragon. On each occasion a gentleman introduced her and took a long time over it, to the displeasure of the audience. When Miss Charlesworth finally appeared she was greeted with a cacophany of boos and hisses and declared herself too nervous to to sing. She bowed to the audience before leaving the stage to the sound of sarcastic laughter. Fortunately this was not the experience of all music hall performers although their reception could vary from hall to hall. Marie Lloyd, much loved in London, was given an unenthusiastic reception in Bradford but gave as good as she got by not responding to an encore at the finish. TS Eliot noted that he had seen Nellie Wallace ’interrupted by jeering or hostile comment from a boxful of East-enders’ but he had never known Marie Lloyd to be confronted by hostility. He also notes that Nellie Wallace made a quick retort that silenced her hecklers.

Vesta Tilley
Ada Reeve

When postcards became the rage in the early 1900s music hall artistes were well represented and their fans collected the cards and sent them with messages of their everyday lives. In 1906 Mrs Baldwin hopes to see Vesta Tilley a week on Monday while a couple of years earlier Miss Gordon looked forward to seeing ’this Lady’ in all her latest successes. Ted saw Vesta Tilley at the Hippodrome (postmark blurred) and sends a card saying ’this girl was one of the soldiers who sang some songs.’ Ada Reeve is described as a nice girl – ‘not half’ by THH when writing to Miss Caley in 1905 and Florrie writes to Ethel to say she went to the Palace in Hull and bought the postcard of Gertie Gitana, ’the star artist.’ These audiences probably restrained themselves from throwing rotten food at the stage but showed their feelings nevertheless by joining in with chorus songs, wild applause and a bit of heckling. They had their favourites and sang and whistled their songs as they went about their business, secure in the feeling they had found a place where they belonged.

Thanks to the British Newspaper Archive, The Victorian Music Hall – Dagmar Kift

Marie Lloyd and Music Hall – Daniel Farson, Marie Lloyd – Richard Anthony Baker

The Popularity of Music Hall website

Gertie Gitana

Ballet Girls

She was ‘only a ballet girl’ was a term often used in theatre circles to cover everyone from the flying fairy to the corps de ballet and its principal dancer. Ballet girls were seen as having easy morals and were treated with scant respect. Albert Smith in the Natural History of the Ballet Girl, published 1847, points out that a gent imagines he has but to wink at a fairy on stage to be immediately received as her accepted admirer. Ballet girls were employed in large numbers to look decorative as well as to dance and would often be placed as ‘extras’ around the stage. Their dancing skills were often found wanting. Opera and pantomime were originally a good source of employment for them and in 1877 Davenport & Wright, Musical and Dramatic Agency, required 150 young attractive ballet ladies for pantomimes in London and the provinces. Music hall managers, always looking for something new, began to stage ballets as part of their programme and in 1866 the Canterbury Music Hall in London advertised a grand ballet spectacle with a fairy orchestra and upwards of fifty ballerinas.

The ballet girls were often mocked for their lack of training and poor skills but it was a hard life with little romance. In the 1860s a dancer paid for her own petticoat, tights, fleshings (flesh coloured tights) and shoes and much time was spent repairing and re-covering worn shoes. Wages were low and sometimes dancers were not paid for rehearsals, which were long with only an hour or two off before the evening performance. This could last until midnight and occasionally a rehearsal could be called after the performance. Those in the front line were paid more than those at the back so competition was fierce with ballet girls dreaming of working their way through the ranks to become principal dancer or coryphée. Things had improved a little by the end of the nineteenth century but dancers were still responsible for buying their own shoes and tights and were encouraged to take professional dance lessons at their own expense.

The Star Trap

It could be a dangerous occupation with newspaper reports of dancers sustaining serious burns when costumes caught fire when moving too close to, or falling into, the limelights along the edge of the stage. They ran the risk of scenery falling on them and those dancers propelled from beneath the stage fervently hoped the star trap would open for them to make their dramatic appearance. The vagaries of the licensing laws were also a problem. In Edinburgh, Henry Levy applied to renew the license for the Southminster Music Hall in 1872. A petition had been received from ninety-five working men who were dissatisfied with the entertainments provide by the Southminster with many of the songs and dances being of a mischievous and immoral tendency – – also of a significantly suggestive character, exercising a corrupting influence on the young of both sexes who so largely frequent this place of amusement. The can-can ballet was their main target which had been put on nightly for a few months and enjoyed by the gallery boys and girls. The license was renewed on the understanding that the can-can would no longer feature in the programme.

The Empire
The Alhambra
Nelly Power



The status of ballet changed over the years but music hall kept it alive and introduced audiences to a a different form of entertainment. In 1870 the burlesque actress and music hall star Nelly Power appeared at the Canterbury Hall, London, in a Grand Ballet entitled Four-leaved Shamrock. She played the roles of several characters and imitated the most popular comic songs of her day – with no advance in the prices. The London halls, the Empire and the Alhambra were renowned for their ballets which took over one half of the programme. We can assume there was a rivalry between the two as a former Alhambra dancer opined they were expected to dance, unlike the corps de ballet of the Empire, who merely held up the scenery. The managers of these two halls became aware of the Diaghilev Ballet and the attraction of supremely talented artistes. The Russian ballerina Anna Pavlova and the Danish Adeline Genée were engaged and changed the public opinion of ballet forever.

Anna Pavlova
Adeline Genée


Thanks to The British Newspaper Archive, vintagepointe.org, The Natural History of the Ballet Girl -Albert Smith, My theatrical and Musical Recollections – Emily Soldene, Monomania collection.