Music and Entertainment

[Kate Wills]

A few years ago, I was invited to provide a talk for my local WFA branch. Here was a chance to fuse two passions, and having recently written a programme note on George Butterworth’s songs, I chose Music and Musicians at War as my subject, and set out to relate the experiences of composers and concert artistes involved in the conflict. The talk was called Larks Ascending in deference to Vaughan Williams, whose rhapsody The Lark Ascending, sketched in May 1914 serves as a requiem for a lost world.

However, the subject has fanned out, and I happily collect anything relating to music and entertainment in wartime, reflecting both military and civilian experiences. I use the term ‘music and musicians’ in its very broadest sense. My erratic research stretches from whistling to grand opera, ballet to barrel organs, bell-ringing at home to pantomimes at the front – indeed anything where music and war come together.

Music, like art, is an international language, and this subject brings the additional pleasure of prompting me to look beyond British shores; though this is where my research is weakest. I am no linguist, so do not have access to type of ephemera that has yielded much of the material I have gleaned so far.

Well, I’ve probably bored you silly by now, but if you are still conscious, may I ask for any suitable information to add to my research. To give you a flavour of the range of material I seek, here are a few examples

Carol singing during the Christmas Truce

The tunes that were played, hummed, sung or sounded in minds at the front

‘Our song’; and the young widow of a two day marriage who, throughout the rest of her long life avoided the music played at her wedding.

Musical booby-traps (I have examples of a gramophone and a piano being used for this purpose)

Musical instrument manufacturers who switched to munitions

Gramophones records in hospital and on service

The shows seen on leave

The French surgeon who kept sane during endless duties by playing his flute

Impromptu concerts in and out of the line; and concert parties

The woman who would not treat herself to a show, lest her husband should meet death or injury while she was out enjoying herself

The war blind who made an unfamiliar living tuning pianos, and the one-armed pianists (I have identified seven so far) who may have employed them

Musical inscriptions, such as Langton’s headstone, or Pte Rosier’s “When the trumpet sounds I'll arise and march again”

[Guest Frillidan]

Hi, Kate -

I actually have transcribed a memoir that you might find useful: it's called Lines of Communication, by Captain James E. Agate. He never actually saw any combat, but he describes in great detail a few concert parties he attended and several operas performed where he was stationed in Southern France. If you're interested, I could send it to you. The author is evidently a great patron of the arts and often prefers artistic commentary to things military.

Also, http://firstworldwar.com/audio/index.htm has a great selection of vintage songs available for download. Many of them are quite catchy and burst into your thoughts at the most awkward moments - if you like, I could recommend a few of my favorites.

Good luck with your research!

[Canadawwi]

Here's something I have in my article collection. I hope it is somewhat on topic.

Article from the Toronto Star - July 22nd, 1915

The following letter was received by Rev. A. Logan Geggie from a nephew in the British army in France:

July 6 - Somewhere in the vicinity, the "lonely soldier" of newspaper fame is making night hideous with a recently arrived melodeon. One of the added horrors of war is the indiscriminate forwarding of these deadly weapons to enthusiastic amateurs. It is perhaps no exaggeration to say that every third man here possesses a melodeon, a concertina, or a mouth-organ. Tonight I have additional cause for gloom in the fact that a misguided officer with more money than musical ear has written home for a set of bag pipes. I wonder if it too much to hope that a German submarine will just this once do us all a good turn.

We have a very old soldier here. He has been officers' mess sergeant for 22 years. He and I are bosom friends mainly because we disagree on every subject on the face of the earth, except this one point - the pipes. Poor chap, for 21 years he has been compelled to listen to a weekly repetition of the kilted savages' deadliest thrust, the pibroch, played round the mess table. Up to last summer he was ageing rapidly, but since August 14 he seems to have taken on a new lease of life. One cause of his returning juvenility has been the entire lack of pipe music.

Have you heard how the officers of the Rifle Brigade were once invited to dinner by a famous Scottish regiment? The Rifles, like the brave fellows they always have been, accepted this barbarity of sound with cheerful resignation, even to the point of joining in the time-honoured applause of the pibroch. The following week they retaliated on their late hosts with 24 bugles. I am still doubtful which is the greater aid to digestion. But I must switch off this topic ere you gather the idea that your nephew on pipe music is akin to Frank Richardson on whiskers.

***********************

[Canadawwi]

Musical display at the 48th Highlander museum in Toronto. I believe this gramophone was brought back from the war.

[frev]

Kate,

Your research sounds fascinating - I always find I have the best time when I get totally sidetracked from my original line of interest - and go off on every tangent that comes my way.

This may not be as interesting as others - but I think the following extracts, taken from various letters about the torpedoing of the 'Southland' 2/9/15 - show the power of song in the face of adversity:

"There was a terrible explosion. When it came I was on deck singing 'Australia Will Be There', and next minute I had to run for my life belt and get into a boat."

[After being struck]

"They marched to their stations singing 'Australia Will Be There'."

[To the rescue]

"We altered our course, and were the first to arrive on the spot, when we found the ship in sinking condition, and all the sea strewn with boats and rafts, crammed with soldiers, who cheered and sang songs as we drew near."

"As we came up and saw many rafts, crammed with men sitting on the edges, with waves dashing over them and drowning their voices, still singing 'Here We Are Again', it made one feel queer to watch them."

"When the rescue boats came along, although packed on rafts sunk up to their knees, they were singing, 'Here we are, here we are, here we are again!' An old English sailor on the rescue ship came up and said, 'Oh, they are grand, just grand.' He had tears running down his cheeks."

Cheers, Frev

[Guest webbhead]

Kate:

If you're interested in anything Canadian you should try to get the book Oh Canada!, edited by Lady Byng and published in 1917. It's a compendium of songs/ tales and other popular entertainments from Canadian WWI soldiers. It's available at the Canadian National Library, so an inter-library loan might do in a fix.

Cheers.

[Kate Wills]

Frillidan - Thankyou for the Agate memoir. As I have a family interest in the ASC, it is of even greater interest.

Canadawwi - Two interesting posts. It makes a change to hear the feelings of someone who wasn't cheered by the many well-intentioned musical gifts from home. Do you know the identity of the writer? I imagine he was a member of the Rifle Brigade. Thankyou also for the photo of the gramophone. These were also a popular gift from home, and to hospitals. Many of the ones used at the front had been found in ruined houses. I read somewhere that they were especially popular with artillery officers, as they could be transported easily on the limbers. I often wonder how the average infantry officer transported his from the shop to the front. They do come in different sizes though, and a special trench-model was manufactured, that was quite small, and even smaller when folded. Perhaps these were the first portable personal music-players.

Frev - Excellent stuff. As you say, this illustrates the power of music in adversity. The soldiers here are literally chorusing their determination to overcome peril on the sea. Do you know which unit was involved, and where?

Webbhead - We have Oh Canada! and as you say, it is a lovely presentation book. My husband didn't need much persuading to buy it.

Thankyou everyone. Keep 'em coming..!

[Canadawwi]

Dear Kate,

I'm attaching one article about someone who was pleased with their instrumental gift.

As for the critical letter - I'm sure the uncle didn't want to put his nephew's name in print - sometimes the men were not happy to find that their relatives back home had submitted their private letters for publication. They were often teased about the contents - as the local papers were often forwarded to the men at the front, who read everything they could get their hands on. Furthermore, Toronto was very proud of her Highland units, so many would not be very amused by the comments.

Lt. Col. Samuel G. Beckett, 75th Battalion CEF, quoted in this letter, was to be killed in action on March 1st, 1917 and is buried at Villers Station Cemetery, France. Memorial Record

Marika

[Canadawwi]

These postcards are from the Bamforth song series. These two from a set of four show an artist's depiction of the gramophone in use at the front lines.

[frev]

Frev - Excellent stuff. As you say, this illustrates the power of music in adversity. The soldiers here are literally chorusing their determination to overcome peril on the sea. Do you know which unit was involved, and where?

Kate,

The 'Southland' was enroute from Alexandria to Gallipoli, carrying the 21st Battalion AIF; B Company of the 23rd Battalion AIF and sundry others. It was struck 60kms Sth of Lemnos. Many of the troops spent up to 3 hours in the water before being rescued, and approximately 33 died from the initial explosion, drowning & exposure.

Cheers, Frev

[Koots]

Hello Kate

Here's a link to a web site that may be of interest. It belongs to Collections Canada, called The Virtual Gramophone. If a search is done for any of the war years there will be a number of recordings found. They may be listened to or copied to your computer by right clicking the MP3 icon and, Save Target As. If you use the advanced search feature it has the options for searching by Recording Date and Release Date.

http://www.collectionscanada.ca/gramophone/index-e.html

Here's an excerpt from the Australian Government Dept. of Veterans' Affairs web site about an Australian soldier who collected many souvenirs, two of them being musical.

John "Barney" Hines 45th Battalion AIF

"On one occasion he reached a German pill box and danced on the roof taunting the occupants to come out. When nothing happened he lobbed a couple of Mills bombs through the gun openings, killing some and forcing the rest, about 63 of them, to come out with raised arms. He duly collected his souvenirs from them and herded them back to the Australian lines.

Among his more unusual souvenirs were a grand piano, which he managed to keep for several days, a grand father clock which was eventually blown up by his own men because it attracted shell fire from the German lines whenever it chimed, a barrel of Bass ale, which he shared with his comrades, and several suitcases full of banknotes from the bank at Amiens. He was arrested by British military police but caused so much bother he was returned to his unit."

http://www.australiansatwar.gov.au/stories...p?war=W1&id=145

Best regards

Koots

[Canadawwi]

One soldier with a musical connection...

[Half-pint]

Hardly a contribution ... except to say, this just might be my most FAVOURITE thread in this forum, ever! ;-)

Yours, if occasionally off-key,

Alison

[frev]

Kate,

You said anything related to music - so you're in for it now! The following is a poem by C.J. Dennis - which you may already know of - and if not - may have a little trouble with - as I think even a lot of Aussies would these days.

THE SINGING SOLDIERS.

"When I'm sittin' in me dug-out wiv me rifle on me knees,

An' a yowlin', owlin' chorus comes a-floatin' up the breeze -

Jist a bit o' 'Bonnie Mary' or 'Long Way to Tipperary'-

Then I know I'm in Australia, took an' planted overseas.

They've bin up agin it solid since we crossed the flamin' foam;

But they're singin' - alwiz singin' - since we left the wharf at 'ome.

"O, it's 'On the Mississippi' or 'Me Grey 'Ome in the West'-

If it's death an' 'ell nex' minute they must git it orf their chest.

'Ere's a snatch o' 'When yer Roamin' - When yer Roamin' in the Gloamin'.'

'Struth! The first time that I 'eard it, wiv me 'ead on Rosie's breast,

We wus comin' frum a picnic in a Ferntree Gully train....

But the shrapnel made the music when I 'eard it sung again."

So I gits it straight frum Ginger in 'is letter 'ome to me,

On a dirty scrap o' paper wiv the writin' 'ard to see.

"Strike!" sez 'e "It sounds like skitin'; but they're singin' while they're fightin';

An' they socks it into Abdul to the toon o' 'Nancy Lee'.

An' I seen a bloke this mornin' wiv 'is arm blown to a rag,

'Ummin' 'Break the Noos to Mother', w'ile 'e sucked a soothin' fag.

"Now the British Tommy curses, an' the French does fancy stunts,

An' the Turk 'e 'owls to Aller, an' the Gurkha grins an' grunts;

But our boys is singin', singin', while the blinded shells is flingin'

Mud an' death inter the trenches in them 'eavens called the Fronts.

An' I guess their souls keep singin' when they gits the tip to go...."

So I gits it, straight frum Ginger; an', Gawstruth! 'e ort to know.

An' 'is letter gits me thinkin' when I read sich tales as these,

An' I takes a look around me at the paddicks an' the trees;

When I 'ears the thrushes trillin', when I 'ear the magpies fillin'

All the air frum earth to 'eaven wiv their careless melerdies-

It's the sunshine uv the country, caught an' turned to bonzer notes;

It's the sunbeams changed to music pourin' frum a thousand throats.

Can a soljer 'elp 'is singin' when 'e's born in sich a land?

Wiv the sunshine an' the music pourin' out on ev'ry 'and;

Where the very air is singin', an' each breeze that blows is bringin'

'Armony an' mirth an' music fit to beat the blazin' band.

On the march, an' in the trenches, when a swingin' chorus starts,

They are pourin' bottled sunshine of their 'Omeland frum their 'earts....

When they socked it to the Southland wiv our sunny boys aboard-

Them that stopped a dam torpeder, an' a knock-out punch wus scored;

Tho' their 'ope o' life grew murky, wiv the ship 'ead over turkey,

Dread 'o death an' fear o' drownin' wus jist trifles they ignored.

They spat out the blarsted ocean, an' they filled 'emselves wiv air,

An' they passed along the chorus of "Australia will be There".

Yes, they sung it in the water; an' a bloke aboard a ship

Sez 'e knoo they wus Australians by the way they give it lip-

Sung it to the soothin' motion of the dam devourin' ocean

Like a crowd o' seaside trippers in to 'ave a little dip.

When I 'eard that tale, I tell yeh, straight, I sort o' felt a choke;

Fer I seemed to 'ear 'em singin', an' I know that sort o' bloke.

Yes, I know 'im; so I seen 'im, barrackin' Eternity.

An' the land that 'e wus born in is the land that mothered me.

Strike! I ain't no sniv'lin' blighter; but I own me eyes git brighter

When I see 'em pokin' mullock at the everlastin' sea:

When I 'ear 'em mockin' terror wiv a merry slab o' mirth,

'Ell! I'm proud I bin to gaol in sich a land as give 'em birth!

"When I'm sittin' in me dug-out wiv the bullets droppin' near,"

Writes ole Ginger; "an' a chorus smacks me in the flamin' ear:

P'raps a song that Rickards billed, er p'raps a line o' 'Waltz Matilder',

Then I feel I'm in Australia, took an' shifted over 'ere.

Till the music sort o' gits me, an' I lets me top notes roam

While I treats the gentle foeman to a chunk uv ' 'Ome, Sweet 'Ome'."

They wus singin' on the troopship, they wus singin' in the train;

When they left their land be'ind 'em they wus shoutin' a refrain,

An' I'll bet they 'ave a chorus, gay an' glad in greetin' for us,

When their bit uv scrappin's over, an' they lob back 'ome again.....

An' the blokes that ain't returnin' - blokes that's paid the biggest price -

They'll go singin', singin', singin' to the Gates uv Paradise.

Cheers, Frev.

[Boreenatra]

Dear Kate.Sorry. I am suitably chastened!! Here's a repost. Regards Steve.

P.S. I've deleted the other post from Julians thread.

[Kate Wills]

Dear Steve,

Many thanks for posting your HMV advertisement above. Here is the story behind it.

One of my Great War heroines is Lena Ashwell, the actress, musician and theatrical manager who organised quality entertainments for the forces on active service, and fundraising events at home. On 29 December 1915 she mounted a new show at the Kingsway Theatre, a fantasy entitled 'The Starlight Express' based on the story 'A Prisoner in Fairyland' by Algernon Blackwood. She had persuaded Elgar, no less, to compose incidental music, which included songs for soprano and baritone soloists.

Charles Mott had come to Elgar's attention singing Wagner during Covent Garden's German Opera Festival in February 1914. He immediately wrote a congratulatory message to Mott, and recommended him for the title role in his own oratorio 'The Dream of Gerontius' for that year's Three Choirs Festival, which was cancelled with the outbreak of war. However, Mott did indeed get to sing Gerontius at a special memorial service for Lord Roberts (who had died in the early weeks of the war) in November 1914. The baritone songs for the role of the Organ-Grinder in Starlight Express were composed with Mott's voice in mind. "Singing full of tenderness, repose and sustained charm" wrote one commentator. Unfortunately, both Algernon Blackwwod and Elgar were severely disappointed with the production. Blackwood felt that both Violet Pearn's dramatisation and the stage designs were out of kilter with the simplicity of his original fantasy. Elgar agreed, and withdrew as conductor a few days before the premiere when his wife was injured in a collision with a London taxi during a blackout.

Blackwood's disappointment was shared by the critics, and the show finished after barely a month's run, but Elgar's music would prove more durable. Immediately after the show closed the HMV Company offered a recording contract for 'The Starlight Express' music, and on 18th February 1916 Agnes Nicholls, Charles Mott, and an orchestra under Elgar's baton made the eight-record set pictured above.

Charles Mott continued his concert career and until after his call-up (probably under the Derby scheme), when he took the stage dressed in khaki as a member of the Artists Rifles. Notable among these occasions was another Elgar creation 'The Fringes of the Fleet', a setting of Kipling poems for four baritones, with one as soloist. Mott was again favoured, though he had to perform after a hard-day's footslogging around Romford. "I fear all this drilling will kill Mott" wrote the composer. Elgar and his singers recorded 'Fringes of the Fleet' in July 1917, and on 1 March 1918 Mott once again entered the recording studio to sing selections from Edward German's 'Merrie England'. Shortly afterwards, Mott, now a lance corporal, was in the thick of things in France. On 11th May 1918 Mott wrote to Elgar from a position alongside the 63rd Division near Aveluy Wood:

Dear Sir Edward,

This is a short note to let you know that all goes well up to the present (you probably know by now that I have been `out here’ for about three weeks). I have enjoyed the experience immensely and look forward to heaps of `fun’ (admittedly of a rather grim nature) within the next few hours! I know you would feel the same. There is something grand & very fascinating about a battery of big guns & a shell that can make a hole in the ground big enough to put a motor-bus in - what a vast amount of pent up energy.

However, on passing over a shelled area I could not help deploring the waste of power, which, if directed in another channel might preserve life instead of shatter it…

O what a golden opportunity awaits everyone who cares to think at all. You, my dear Sir Edward realised this years before the war commenced. What consolation to recall your glorious Gerontius & that beloved work, `To the Fallen’. I shall be thinking a great deal of both works & have been of late.

There is one thing that `puts the wind up me’ very badly & that is of my being wiped out & thus miss the dear harmonies of your wonderful works

[and here Mott inserted two musical themes, from the Violin Concerto, and Starlight Express].

But I have a supreme confidence in my destiny & feel that I have some useful work to do in the world before I am called away.

Meanwhile the roar of the guns thrills me somehow, & I only dread my comrades coming to grief & seeing them wounded. I pray that they may all get through safely.

I will write you again with more details, if possible.

Hoping that you & Lady Elgar & Miss Elgar are all flourishing & with my heartiest good wishes & best regards.

Believe me

Yours sincerely

Chas. Mott

Charles Mott went into action on 20th May 1918 and died of wounds two days later, but lives on in "the dear harmonies" of Elgar's music.

[Boreenatra]

Dear Kate.Thanks for taking the time to reply, I know you must be busy. The story is fascinating and concurs with a review I found dated January 5th 1916.

The Starlight Express.

"It would be uncandid to pretend that Mr. ALGENON BLACKWOOD gets everything he has to say in The Starlight Express safely across the footlights- those fateful barriers that trap so many excellent intensions.But he so evidently has something to say, and the saying is so gallantly attempted, that he must emphatically be credited with something done-something well done really. The little play has beautiful moments- and that is to say a great deal.

The novelist turned playwright wishes to make you see that " the Earth's forgotten it's a Star". In plainer words he wants to present you with a cure for " wumbledness" People who look at the black side of things, who think chiefly of themselves- those are the wumbled. The cure is stardust- which is sympathy. The treatment was discovered by the children of a poor author in a cheap Swiss pension and by "Cousinenry" a successful business man of quite an unusual sort.You have to get out into the cave where the starlight is stored, gather it- with the help of the Organ Grinder, who loves all children and sings his cheery way to the stars; and the Gardener who makes good things grow and picks up all the weeds; and the Lamplighter who lights up heads and hearts and stars impartially; and the Sweep, who sweeps away all blacks and blues over the edge of the world; and the Dustman, with his sack of Dream Dust that is Star Dust ( or isn't it?) and so forth.

Then you sprinkle the precious stuff on people and they become miracles of content and unselfishness ( The fact that life isn't in the very least like that is a thing you have just got to make yourself forget for three hours or so)

The author was well served by his associates.SIR EDWARD ELGAR wove a delightfully patterned music of mysterious import through the queer tangle of the scenes and gave us an atmosphere loaded with the finest stardust.Lighting and setting were admirably contrived; and the grouping of the little prologue scenes, where that kindly handsome giant of an organ-grinder (MR. CHARLES MOTT), with the supebly cut corduroys, sang so tunefully to as sweet a flock of little maids as one would wish to see, was particularly effective.

Of the players I would especially commend the delicately sensitive performance of MISS MERCIA CAMERON (a name and talent quite new to me) as Jane Anne the chief opponent of wumbledon. She was I think, responsible more than any other for getting some of the mystery of the authentic Blackwoodcraft across to the audience. The jolly spontaneity of RONALD HAMMOND as young Bimbo was a pleasant thing, and ELISE HALL, concealing less successfully her careful training in the part, prettily co-operated as his sister Monkey. The part of Daddy, the congested author who was either " going to light the world or burst" was in O.B. CLARENCE'S clever sympathetic hands. MR OWEN ROUGHWOOD. gave you a sense of his belief in the efficacy of stardust. On what a difficult rail our author was occasionally driving his express you may judge when he makes this excellent but not particularly fragile British type exclaim " I am melting down in dew". The flippant hearer has always to be inhibiting irreverent speculations occasioned by such speeches.

I couldn't guess if the children in the audience liked it. I hope they didn't feel they had been spoofed, as MAETERLINCK so basely spoofed them in The Blue Bird, by offering them a grown-up's play " sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought". But the bigger children gave the piece a good welcome and called and aclaimed the shrinking author"

Well Kate I don't know know what to make of the review, let alone what he really thought ,but the world was different 90 years ago. The reviewer used to sign himself "T" and his name was Joseph Thorp. Carry on the good work. Regards Steve.

P.S. Shame that Jules didn't find any more stuff, but he's done a fantastic job and has shed a little more light on those dark days.

[Kate Wills]

Steve,

Many thanks for this. It adds more to the story. Do you know the source? It is obviously a performance review, and I have just done a Google on Joseph Thorp, which has him as journalist and typographer born in 1873, but says no more.

In choosing Blackwood's play, I think Lena Ashwell and Violet Pearn thought they might create another hit in the mould of Peter Pan. Sadly it failed to catch the public imagination, at a time when a dose of escapism was much needed.

I understand (not having seen either) that it has no connection with the modern Rice / Lloyd Webber concoction. I wonder what Joseph Thorp would have found to say about their shows?

[Boreenatra]

Dear Kate. Thanks for your reply.I checked with HighBeam Research and found Joseph Peter Thorp who died in 1962 but I'm not sure he is our man. "T" was the name he used as a reviewer for Punch ( which is where the article came from). I'll try to find some info on him as he did many reviews for Punch which may be of interest to you. Regards Steve.

[john w.]

I have been working with a writer on Felix Powell who wrote Pack up Your Troubles.... just research work

Will be out soon as part of the Shell NAtional Connections showcase for 2006

John

[Kate Wills]

John,

A couple of morsels for you from 'Pom Poms and Ruffles - the story of Northern Seaside Entertainment' by G j Mellor:

"FP ran a troupe of pierrots in Ilkley in the 1900s. They first performed in a marquee in the Wells Road, then when the Bridge pavilion was built moved there. Mrs D Sanderson of Roadhead near Carlisle remembers "they performed at the old Bridge Pavilion in Ilkley until 1910, when they left to go to one of the Bradford pavilions. My sister and I lost touch with them during the First War. The pianist was Felix Powell and his brother George was one of the troupe. Felix wrote the music for their songs and George the lyrics".

I would like to read your paper John. If I find any other snippets I'll pass them on.

[Matthew King]

Kate

I don't remember of I have posted this before but here is a program for a Christmas concert in Stamford.

I have two pdf files about Stamford concerts from the local paper which I'll email to you.

Hope they are of interest to you.

Matt

[Matthew King]

Here are some more images, this time they are of a Concert party held in the Dessert for the troops of the 6th Essex Regiment. I'm sorry I don't know anything else about the images. I have not yet found a reference to the concert in my Grandfathers letters.

If you could tell me anything about these pictures that would be great

[Matthew King]

here are two more, sorry about the width of the pictures

Matt

[Boreenatra]

Dear Kate. A couple of pics of Lena Ashwell.

I assume you've seen this before but for anyone else who is interested go to

http://dgillan.screaming.net/

This really is a superior site.

Great bit about her brother Roger being suspected of murder!!!

Also some interesting suff at

http://aspirations.english.cam.ac.uk/conve...tre_at_war.acds

Regards Steve.