Press Clippings for the week ending
Saturday, 23 August 2003

A random selection of cuttings
from newspapers and magazines

The Royal Alhambra Palace, Leicester Square; Frederick Strange's alterations, December 1864 'Under the Proprietorship of Mr. F. Strange (late of the Refreshment Department of the Crystal Palace), this splendid building will be again thrown open to the public on Boxing Night, entirely re-arranged and redecorated, upwards of ten thousand pounds having been expended upon it. The establishment has been formed for developing Lyric and Terpsichorean Art, and every comfort of the public has been studied by the new Management. One of the most striking features is the alterations which have taken place since the Alhambra was last thrown open, is the grand and magnificent system of lighting adapted to it by Messrs. Defries and Son, which they have carried out in their usual spirited and enterprising manner, upon an entirely new and scientific principle. The grand [gas] chandelier in the centre is twenty-seven feet high, and fifteen feet in diameter, and is composed of 1,700 lights. Arms holding ruby and silver clusters are 160 in number, and the great feature is the novelty of the light emanating from the ruby and silver globe, each globe encircled by a silver wreath and cluster of crystal, producing a brilliant effect, the novelty and beauty of which cannot but strike the beholder with admiration. In addition to the large chandelier, twelve others of smaller size, but equally novel and brilliant, surround the promenade, and twelve others of the same design surround the boxes. These with twelve crystal prismatic lanterns, which have been adapted to the upper galleries, and five chandeliers in the refreshment room, and four in the supper-room, complete the galaxy of light – one of the most beautiful and magnificent that has ever been applied to a public building. The contract price of this astonishing specimen of chandelier production is one thousand guineas. Messrs. Defries and Sons have, in the completion of their work, assiduously studied the architectural arrangements of the building, and the extensive alterations, which have been carried out from the designs, and under the superintendence, of J.H. Rowley, Esq. The decoration is of a very beautiful character the architect having studied lightness and elegance, both as regards the design and colours. The Supper-room is a grand addition to the establishment, and is carried out in the same style of decoration as the Hall from which this room is directly approached. It has already been intimated that the resources of the establishment will be directed towards the illustration of Music and the sister Art; and it is to be hoped that gems of modern opera, interwoven with the marvels of Terpsichorean stars, supported by a band and chorus of 100 performers, will be successful in attracting large audiences. The engagements including Miss Pearce (prima donna), Mr. H. De Brenner and Mr. Henry Herbert (principal tenors), and Mr. Theodore Distin (principal baritone); and Mdlle. [Ernestina] Bioletti (from the Grand Opera, Paris) will be the leading danseuse. Mr. Barlow, a Negro comedian of polish and refinement, and one well known in London some years ago, will make his first appearance in England after an absence of fourteen years. An "Eccentric Musical Spider" and "Le Petit Blondin" are also engaged; so that there will be no lack of variety. The music will be under the direction of Mr. J.W. Hird and Mr. J. Caulfield, Jun.; and Mr. [Harry] Boleno is the Stage-Director.' (The Ear, London, Sunday, 25 December 1864, p.6d) * * * * * * * * Corney Grain with Mr & Mrs German Reed at St. George's Hall, London, 1881

Richard Corney Grain (1845-1895), English entertainer

(caricature by Alfred Bryan,
The Entr'acte, London, Saturday, 5 February 1881, p.8)

'To go immediately from a theatre to a place like St. George's Hall, where the Reed-Grain combination is doing its best to enliven those curious people who assemble there, is like coming from a noisy street into a church. But the change has its refreshing side; I like it. A decently sung quartet or two, although only accompanied by pianoforte and harmonium, is not always unwelcome. 'Then there is Mr. Corney Grain; he is always amusing when seated at the pianoforte, and talking and singing to his audience. Mr. Grain experiences great difficulties with the letter S, which he always violently hisses at; in fact, when he is talking, and using words in which this letter frequently occurs – and he cannot very well avoid them – it seems as though somebody near him were constantly thrusting a red-hot poker into water. I shouldn't like to say more than this against Mr. Grain, who is a tall man, and – I can't say why – always impresses me with the idea of being short-tempered. 'While waiting to hear Mr. Grain the other night, I was particularly struck by one little arrangement, not important in itself, perhaps, but intending to convey something, I suppose. The duet between pianoforte and harmonium had ceased, and all was silence. The curtain was then wound up, and on the stage was the grand pianoforte, bearing Erard's advertisement upon a not obscure portion of its exterior. The instrument was closed, and the stool on which Mr. Grain sits was seen placed topsy-turvy on the lid. 'I could not understand why, when the curtain went up, the audience were not permitted to look upon a pianoforte ready for immediate attack, and a stool in such a position that any intending performer could, without loss of time, have seated himself thereon. This arrangement, however, was much too simple for the importance of the occasion; and, while one flunkey took from the top of the instrument the stool, which he most probably had placed there some two minutes previously, another menial uplifted the lid to the needful extent. When these little preliminaries had been arranged, and the audience wound-up to a needful pitch of expectation, Mr. Grain walked in, smiling and bowing. 'This was a wondrous filling-in of the picture. I could not understand it at first, but I do now. Mr. Grain is himself a very genuine specimen of the article than this device employs. 'But what curious folks assemble here night after night! Odds and ends I should call them. Some never laugh at all, while others will guffaw at jokes, whose only title to respect is their great age. When I was here the other night I found all my neighbours staring at me, evidently thinking me mad when I laughed; and when they were holding their sides I was asking myself the question: "What, in heaven's name, are the benighted heathens laughing at?" 'There are numbers of people who make it a rule of never visiting a theatre. When they are in their most dissipated mood, they incline to mildnesses long drawn out, and sit though an entertainment of the kind which is so well provided by Mr. and Mrs. German Reed.' (The Entr'acte, London, Saturday, 12 March 1881, pp.4b-5a) * * * * * * * * A Night in Wales, a new musical sketch at St. George's Hall, London, Monday, 1 June 1885 'A new sketch was produced at St. George's Hall on Monday. The virtue there may be in the trifle must be credited to Mr. Herbert Gardiner, who is the author, and to Mr. Corney Grain, who has wedded to the text some characteristic music. Whatever fun there is to be found in the bagatelle is owned to the circumstance of an English and French tourist meeting promiscuously at the same Welsh hostelry and quarrelling over a supposed lady. The Frenchman is choleric and rash, and vows he will have satisfaction. No weapons are at hand with which the two rivals can fight, so they determine that he who cuts the highest card shall jump from the widow into a frightful abyss below. The lively Gaul cuts the highest, and is about to jump from the window, but is prevented by the Englishman, who owes him no ill-will. Subsequently, the victim falls asleep, and his rival perpetrates a joke upon him, so as to make him believe that he has really jumped from the window. He blackens his eye, tears his coat and trowsers [sic], and wakes him from his slumber by the supposed application of a leech behind his ear, which is really the prick of a pin, When the Frenchman wakes he finds himself in a very dilapidated condition, and is prevailed upon to believe that he has really jumped from a window, but is disabused of the notion by the landlord [played by Charles Allen], who tells him that nothing of the kind has occurred. He is pacified at length by being told that the voice, which was supposed to proceed from a lady over which the two men have quarrelled, was the preternaturally feminine organ of the landlord's. The termination of the piece gives out signs of labour; and the essay, as a whole, is heavily handicapped by the fact that it contains no female part. Mr. Alfred Reed makes up well as the impetuous Frenchman, and plays with excellent spirit, while good support is rendered by M. North Home, whose acting is much better than it was a couple of years ago. 'Mr. Corney Grain's "Vocal Recital" goes considerably better than it did at first. Mr. Grain gives it with greater confidence, and has added many elaborations, most of which re of an exceedingly happy nature. Hobbies [by William Yardley and H.P. Stephens, with music by George Gear, first produced at St. George's Hall, 6 April 1885] is now played at the end of the entertainment.' (The Entr'acte, London, Saturday, 6 June 1885, p.13a/b) * * * * * * * * Frightful suicide of Lydia Manton, 1891, of the Gaiety Theatre, London

Lydia Manton (1868?-1891), English chorus girl

(photo: Vernon Kaye, London, circa 1889)

Strange Suicide of a Chorus Girl. 'The Press Association says:- It has transpired that on Saturday [3 October 1891] Mr. Troutbeck, the coronet of Westminster, held an inquiry into the death of a young woman described as Lydia Manton, but whose real name is Miller, who committed suicide under mysterious and rather romantic circumstances. It appears that the young woman, who was twenty-three years of age, had for some considerable period been performing at the Gaiety Theatre in the successive burlesques of Faust Up to Date [30 October 1888], Ruy Blas [21 September 1889], and Carmen Up to Data [4 October 1890]. Her relatives are all highly respectable – her father, besides carrying on a large business in London, occupying a representative position in the locality in which he resides. Whilst at the Gaiety the deceased young lady made the acquaintance of Lord Charles Montagu. She lived in considerable style at Burlington Mansions, Cork-street, Piccadilly. At the inquest on Friday, the evidence went to show that on Thursday evening [1 October 1891], Miss Manton, apparently in a state of great mental excitement, took a considerably quantity of carbolic acid, which caused an agonising death not long after. It was suggested that the motive for the act was that Lord Charles Montagu had failed to keep an appointment to call upon the deceased that day. – Lord Charles Montagu gave evidence as to his knowledge of the deceased, and some five or six other witnesses were called. – Mr. George Lewis, solicitor, watched the proceedings. – In the end the jury returned a verdict of "Suicide while in a state of unsound mind." – Careful inquiries on Saturday reveal no more than this. – The witnesses who were called declined to state what transpired at the inquest, and the coronet upon being applied to, refused to allow the depositions to be seen, but stated that reporters were present at the inquest. 'A London correspondent of the Birmingham Daily Mail, writes:- All the truth about the Lydia Manton mystery will never be known. The circumstance of Lydia Manton's death, they say, have been kept dark for the sake of "society," and "society" does not here mean only Lord Charles Montagu. There is one young man whose name is connected closely with Miss Manton's, and that is the name of a young man whose position would authorise the efforts at secrecy for the sake of "society." It was at his request, or perhaps, "command," that Lydia Manton left the Gaiety. So it was said, on her own authority, at the time. Lydia Manton was down at Broadstairs [in Kent] last summer, and Broadstairs had at that time a distinguished visitor, but Broadstairs entertained him unaware, and probably did not know of the existence of Lydia Manton. This may give an idea of why people are calling Lord Charles Montagu "chivalrous and self-sacrificing." He came forward at the inquest and assumed the rôle of the particular friend of the Cork-street establishment in order to screen someone else. Lydia Manton, unlike most of her kind, took care of her money, although she lived in smart style. Worth made her dresses, and at Brighton Races she wore one that cost £250. But the friends she made were always rich and generous, and she saved, they say, some thousands of pounds. Moreover, she had a large quantity of magnificent diamonds. Why she killed herself no one of the outside world seems to know. On Wednesday night [30 September 1891], when Joan of Arc was produced, she was [in the audience] at the Gaiety in the best of spirits.' (The Warwick and Warwickshire Advertiser and Leamington Gazette, Warwick, Saturday, 10 October 1891, p.6d) * * * * * * * * Millie Hylton at Collins's music hall, London, October 1899

Millie Hylton (1868-1920), English actress and singer

(photo: Alfred Ellis & Walery, London, circa 1900)

Collins's music hall 'Miss Millie Hylton has always been famous for her impersonations of giddy young gentlemen addicted to the practice of painting the town red, more particularly during the early hours of the morning. One of her latest embodiments is that of a young blood – as he would have been called in the olden time – who with his equally festive companions sallies forth at midnight and keeps it up til six o'clock in the morning. Miss Hylton in a very becoming costume is also singing the spirited song, "The music of the drum," with marked success.' (The Era, London, Saturday, 7 October 1899, p.18a) * * * * * * * *

Return to home page

© John Culme, 2003