Entertainment in Plymouth in 1909

I have been writing a book about Houdini's tours of Britain in the early 1900s and Lorna Basham from the Plymouth Library kindly sent me some cuttings from 1909 which include reports of Houdini's visit to Plymouth.
The illustration shows a drawing made by a member of the audience during Houdini's appearance on stage at the Palace Theatre in Union Street.
An advert for the show was featured in the Western Morning News and read:

PALACE, PLYMOUTH

TWICE NIGHTLY 7 and 9

MONDAY, AUGUST 16TH, 1909, AND DURING THE WEEK

Performances commence 10 minutes earlier on Saturday only.

HOUDINI

The Original Handcuff King and Jail Breaker.

BILLY YOUNG.   JACKLEY TRIO.

MAY MAIDMENT.  STUART AND MORGAN.

TWO MOR BOYS.                               THE PALISCOPE.

BILLY WILLIAMS

The Man in the Velvet Suit.

Houdini is remembered for jumping in chains from Stonehouse Bridge and his escape from a wooden box constructed by workers from the nearby dockyard. All is revealed in my upcoming book together with many other stories of his shows, challenges and escapes around the country.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in nearby Devonport, 'Sexton Blake' was been performed at the Theatre Metropole in Devonport. The Theatre Royal in Plymouth was performing 'the musical success', Sergeant Brue.

Elsewhere, The Hippodrome in Devonport announced:

TONIGHT

 First appearance in Devonport of the celebrated MISS WHITTAKER (a personality) supported by MR F. WILBUR HILL, presenting a singing and instrumental novelty. Also featured OHINKO, the wonderful young juggler.
Names, unlike Houdini, now all long forgotten.

At the Pier Pavilion for Regatta Week were 'Leslie's Popular Comedy Cadets'.

Meanwhile, Leonard Teel's Pom-Poms appeared at the bandstand on the Hoe.

Also appearing in the town were, 'Bostock and Wombwell's Travelling Zoo' whose advert read:

VALUE

ONE WORD TO THE WISE IS SUFFICIENT

THE MOST COMPLETE ZOOLOGICAL COLLECTION

Apart from music hall entertainment, there were also many local auctions.Two names live on today in the auction world; Shobrook's and Rendell's. Their lots for auction consisted mainly of old furniture and bric-a-brac.

The town was alive with both indoor and outdoor entertainment. Imagine seeing Houdini jump off Stonehouse Bridge and then taking a stroll along the Pier before seeing 'Bostock and Wombwell's Travelling Zoo' and all for less than one shilling!

Memories of Lawrence of Arabia

Ray Attwood kindly contacted me about papers that he'd found which had belonged to his father, Frederick Henry Attwood, who died in 1992.
His father had recorded his meetings with TE Lawrence. The story makes very interesting reading and I thought that I would share it here. I believe that it has never been published before.
The notes read:
'This I leave to the readers to judge for themselves, all I can do is to state the facts as I saw them at the time and which after 60 years plus is still clear in my mind.
The weather was fine, sunshine, wind south west force 5, the event was the Turnchapel Sailing Club weekly meeting of the 14 Dinghy.
The course was down the Cattewater past Mount Batten Pier out into Plymouth Sound. Around a mark buoy off the pier, then back up the Cattewater to the finishing line, which was a line ashore from the foredeck of the cable-ship C.S. Mackay Bennet (a vessel of world interest, having picked up 275 bodies from the S.S. Titanic) and on which I was raised.
Having been given permission by my father to sail his 14 footer, only under guidance of a very experienced yachtsman, Harry Higgins. I was laying along side West Lakes Quay, Turnchapel when Ted Sallows, a nephew of Harry's, came to tell me that Harry, who was a shipwright, would not be available that evening, having to work overtime. Somewhat disappointed at receiving such information and in complete contradiction to my father's orders, that I was under no circumstances to sail her without the second-hand being an experienced yachtsman. I looked up on the quay where a few locals etc were gathered and enquired if anyone would care to take a chance and sail with me.
It must be remembered that the dinghy was a Morgan Giles 14'  international and was a flighty hand-full for even a experienced helmsman.
Life-jackets were not used in the early 30's and in fact if one had been available I would have considered it to be unmanly to have used one.
My enquiry for a second-hand to take the fore-sheet, was answered by an airman who having caught my glance raised his arm slightly and said "I will", as he walked down the steps I pulled alongside, he stepped in saying "Good evening" took the fore-sheet and away we went to the starting line.
Between the time of his coming aboard and the start, I had time to look at him and although only a teenager, I had, having been raised on the C.S Mackay Bennett, come through a childhood where part of my education in the ways the world had been influenced by tough seaman from Novia Scotia - Newfoundland, l and a fair number of Outer Hybridises Scotsman, who had found their way to Halifax, Novia Scotia many years before and while not big headed, I have a fair idea of how to assess a fellow human being.
He appeared to be about 40-45 years of age, 5ft 3" - 5ft 5" tall, slight build and the little I could see of it, sandy coloured hair, yet there was an air of confidence about him, I was somewhat awed by him, for which having been with him only some 10 minutes or so I was somewhat at loss to understand.
None of my Blue-nose friends would have said that I was easily overawed, and certainly not my school head master Mr Rogers (father of Paul Rogers the Shackespearn actor), who, when I visited him at Newton Abbot while on leave from the army in 1940, told my fiancee that in all his years of teaching he had never come across anyone whose ideas were so fixed and could not be influenced and expressed the wish
that she had more luck in doing so, than he had had.
The one thing about my newly acquired shipmate was his eyes, at times they appeared to be startlingly blue and at others gray, steady, clear and confident. Having got off to a good start, by first of all sailing in toward Mount Batten Air Force station on a starboard tack, we came about on to a port tack, beat up toward Sutton Harbour entrance, hoping that by coming about on a starboard tack and with tide ebbing we could make Mount Batten Pier, we were however to fail to maintain way, because, while level on the Cattewater side of the Plymouth Citadel the wind dropped completely and we could only drift out into the Sound and toward our furtherest mark-buoy.
No words had been exchanged between us until I said that I did not like taking advantage of a tow back by the motor boat who was collecting all the other entrants and were being towed back to the committee boat (C.C Mackay Bennett).
My shipmate simply stated that I was skipper, so accordingly I told the steward in the motor-boat to inform the timekeepers that I intended to continue the race and being now the only competitor, would claim maximum points and first place on completion.
The race which started at 6.65 pm and normally took 2.5 - 3 hours, to complete the course twice, on this occasion, with the aid of a late light breeze, finished at 11.50pm.
A finish which was not at all popular with the time-keepers.
No beer at the Borindon Arms that night and I had to face my father's anger having disobeyed his order by sailing without an experienced instructor.
During this time my shipmate had been stowing away the sails
etc, and knowing that Harry Higgins, would for the rest of the
sailing season be working overtime, I asked the airman whether he would like to continue every Wednesday evening throughout the summer. As he stepped out of the boat he replied "Delighted, 6pm next Wednesday, good morning".
His good morning reply made me appreciate his grand sense of humour.
Apart from the first greeting and his acceptance to continue the race and his departing words, he had been silent for a whole 5.5 hours and yet I had no feeling that either he or I were the slightest bit bothered and we did not even know each others names.
The following Wednesday at 6pm he again stepped into the boat said "Good-evening", took over the fore-sheet and with a spanking south west force 4 wind we were away again to the starting line.
Coming out into the Sound, the wind had increased to force 5
and I was somewhat apprehensive, as no matter how close I brought her head up into the wind we were shipping water, should I come up head to wind and take in a reef?
At this stage I said to my shipmate "have you done any sailing"?
"A little, with this type", thinking his little was more than my little experience, it was with great relief that I brought up head to wind and we changed places, I to the fore-sheet, he to the tiller and mainsheet.
Having been raised at sea, I had seen some very good Skippers on both small and medium sized vessels, my shipmate was First-Class. By the time we crossed the finishing line I knew that I had been given a first class lesson on how to sail a small craft.
At the conclusion of the race I realised with a degree of guilt that we did not have a name for each other and having made known my name he replied "Shaw, aircraftsman, see you next Wednesday 6pm, good night".
Thus one can see our conversation on our second meeting was indeed limited, but at no time did I feel anything but confident and at ease in his presence.
Later that night when sitting down to supper, my father who had obtained his ticket in sail, inquired as to why I had disobeyed his instructions once again by sailing in a Force 4/5, accepted the part when I was not skipper and required to know who the Airman was and where he had obtained such expertise as a sailing master and expressed a wish to be introduced to him the following Wednesday.
At this stage my mother suggested that if on the following Wednesday, should it be convenient to Mr Shaw, to invite him to supper.
When we next, I passed on the supper invitation, but he stated that for an unknown period of time his duties would be such that he would be involved in late night operations, but that should it interfere with our arrangements at any time, he would let me know in time for me to obtain another crew member.
On the following Friday morning post, my mother received a letter from Mr Shaw thanking her for a supper invitation and that he would be pleased to accept as soon as duties permitted.
The sailing dates continued for a further 6 weeks, when an invitation to Sunday lunch was accepted, mother duly provided the roast beef etc, as usual with anyone who sat down at our table. He ended up uncomfortably full.
Following the meal, and when showing him my two recently purchased second-hand motor cycles, i.e 1924 belt driven horizontal twin Douglas, and Rudge Malti 600 cc single cylinder belt driven, Mr Shaw stated that he had a Solo motor cycle and invited me to a trip as a pillion passenger. This duly took place, but what a surprise, the Solo was a Brough Suprior, the journey was to Staddon Heights over the fairways of the United Services Golf Club out to the large wall that overlooks Plymouth Sound and Breakwater, into Saddiscombe, Brixton, Plymstock, Hove and back to Turnchapel.
The following Wednesdays included Mother's coffee and sandwiches as though we were going sailing for a week instead of 3-4 hours. She had expressed the view that Mr Shaw did not look as though he was well fed at Mount Batten Station.
Our conversation at all times was very limited, both feeling that the need for conversation was second to the job of dinghy sailing and winning.
At no time did my family think that Mr Shaw was other than an Aircraftman stationed at Mount Batten. Doubt was raised however when having spent a Sunday afternoon on Plymouth Hoe band-stand with my mother, listening to a Scottish Pipe Bank. As we were returning to the car, we looked up to the balcony of Lady Astor's house and there was Mr Shaw among the guests.
I made no mention of having seen him there when we met for the next race meeting, at the completion he stated that he would be unable to carry out any further sailing as he was leaving Mount Batten and he would like to say goodbye to my parents so the remainder of the evening was passed, my mother again doing the honours with the food and completing the ironing of some shirts she had washed and repaired , the property of Mr Shaw.
For a week following his farewell nothing unusual occurred, but one morning mother, who felt that she had to help any one in distress was approached by a very distraught wife of Sgt Carpenter who stated that her husband had been placed under close arrest and could mother obtain information from the Station C.O.
This was followed by national and local press reports of how R.A.F personnel were confined to barracks and some were under arrest for misappropriation of monies and the theft of petrol.
At this time it was made known that our Mr Shaw was in fact Lawrence of Arbia and had supposedly been investigating the alleged deficiencies at Mount Batten.
The reported death of Lawrence in the national press came as a surprise and to our family it was felt that for a man who was so quiet, gentle and unassuming it was indeed a tragedy.
The report stated while travelling at 70 mph he had hit a boy riding a butchers bicycle, the boy had been unhurt, but that Lawrence had been killed.
Following this report, for some obscure reason, a emergency meeting of the sailing club was called. Chaired by Mr Dort Pascho General Manager, Norrington Chemical Works Cattedown, it was decided that as Lawrence had sailed with the club, it would be a mark of respect to send a floral token.
Accordingly Mr Pascho did so, and attended the funeral in Dorset. It was thought by other members of the club, that to make a personal appearance seeing that apart from members of my family and Mr Pascho no other members had spoken to our Mr Shaw, it was somewhat surprising.
The visit was duly carried out, but on his return, Mr Pascho, when seen by my father, seemed perturbed and said that he could not reconcile himself with the press reports regard the circumstances of the death of Lawrence.
He stated that after the funeral he had actually taken photographs of the brough Suprior and that in his opinion a motor cycle traveling at the reported speed of 70 mph or even that of stationary motor cycle falling over, the damage would be greater than that shown on the photographs. Damage would surely have been, either handle-bars, wing, footrest etc. He had taken photographs from both front and rear offside centre view of tank engine etc. It was seen that apart from a slight dent on the top of the rear wing, no damage had occurred. Also that the whole service, which was attended by very notable personalities, seemed to be lacking in sincerity, some mourners wearing cloths not normally worn at funerals, ie, sports trousers and jacket and almost unkown, women mourners entering the church and not wearing hats or even a scarf.
My father having seen the photographs discussed some with Mr Pascho, suggested that in view of what such photographs conveyed, and the conflict they could cause it would be prudent to keep a low profile.
This proved to be sound advice, as Mr Pascho was to discover within a short period of time, while in his office he was visited by two men in civilian cloths, who identified themselves as Wing Commander Lloyd and the other, whose name he could not remember, but who stated he was from the Foreign office and that he had information to the effect that Mr Pascho had in his possession photographs taken of a motor cycle owned by Mr Shaw and the photographs, the negatives plus anything relating to this matter be handed over to him immediately and that he was to discuss this meeting with no one in future.
Furthermore. they wanted the names of any other persons who had seen the photographs and with whom he had discussed it. The result of which my father was visited by the same two men, he was also told that as a matter of national security he was not to discuss this matter with anyone.
My father recorded details of the interview immediately afterwards. This report together with the letter received from Lawrence to my parents, was given to me on the death of my father, both the report and letter was destroyed by fire at my home in Sussex on the 1st June 1950.
The reader is now left to decide whether Lawrence of Arabia was killed in a motor cycle accident, if so, why was it found necessary to send Wing Commander Lloyd and Foreign office official to visit Mr Pascho and my father or did he continue to carry out the outstanding work for which his country has so disgracefully ignored him.'

Television

In the 1960s and early 1970s, if you were lucky enough to have a television it would have been black and white and there were only three channels to watch - BBC 1, BBC2 and Westward. In Plymouth, most tellies were rented from either Rumbelows, DER or Granada. There were no remote controls and tvs had a dial to tune them in. That meant if you were a kid, your parents were always asking you to get up and turn the channel over or turn the sound up or down. Remote controls were something you only heard of in American tv programmes. Because we had a black and white telly, mum used to take us to the cinema more and we'd see the latest Walt Disney or James Bond films. We'd always go to the local cinema in St Budeaux, 'The State' (it is now!), or travel into town to the ABC, the Drake or the Odeon in Union Street. One year, I remember, my gran visited us from her home in Seaham Harbour and took me to see 'Carry On Henry' at the ABC. She was embarrassed though because Barbara Windsor appeared in it with no clothes on. It seems tame nowadays. I suppose I was about 7 at the time.
We loved the tv then with shows like Randall and Hopkirk, Department S, The Champions, Land of the Giants, The Monkees etc.
I remember a family in the street getting the first colour tv in the early 1970s and all the kids were invited in to see it.
'What did you think of it?' asked my mum when I returned home.
'Rubbish!' I replied. 'Everyone's orange!'
The family who owned the telly didn't realise that you could adjust the colour and just left it at the highest setting!
Eventually, we rented our own colour tv and stopped going to the cinema. A colour tv seemed amazing back then and it was great to watch programmes like Kojak, Columbo, Hawaii Five-0, Kung Fu etc in full colour.
Nowadays, everyone has a colour tv and it's hard to imagine that people all had small black and white sets with legs that looked like they could walk towards you.
My old 20 inch tube telly has just gone kaputt so I decided to buy a new fangled 33 inch flat screen one. Wow!
Now, if only there was something on to watch...

Robert Falcon Scott's birthplace

I ventured up to Outland Road to find the location of Robert Falcon Scott's birthplace. Scott was born at Outlands House, the family home, in the Parish of Stoke Damerel, in 1868. He was a distant descendant of Sir Walter Scott and he was the father of the naturalist, Peter Scott. Outlands has now long gone and St Bartholomew's Church stands in its place. Within the church is a piece of wood bearing Scott's name. In 1908, Scott had carved his name on a tree at Outlands, from where the wood was taken.

A plaque marks the spot where Outlands once stood, beside Scott Road, which reads: 'Scott of the Antarctic. On this site formerly stood Outlands, birthplace of Robert Falcon Scott. Born 6th June 1868. Scott died on his return from the South Pole which he reached on 17th January 1912.'

The plaque is quite tucked away and would be hard to find if you didn't know where it was. Being on a very busy road, it's passed hundreds of times a day without being noticed.

Scott was a British Naval Officer and explorer who led two expeditions to Antarctica. The first, the Discovery Expedition lasted three years and began in 1901. His second expedition, the Terra Nova Expedition, which commenced in 1910, is more well known and was the expedition where, unfortunately, he lost his life. Scott led a team of five men in a race to reach the South Pole. When he arrived on the 17th January 1912, he discovered that he had been beaten to the position by the Norwegian, Roald Amundsen and his team. Scott and his team, which included Edward Wilson, H R Bowers, Lawrence Oates and Edgar Evans, made their way back but died of a combination of the cold, hunger and exhaustion.
Scott was 43 when he died and his body, and that of his comrades, remain at the camp where he was found. A wooden cross was erected on top of a high cairn of snow which covered the camp.
A memorial stands to Scott at Mount Wise in Devonport.

Shopping in the 1960s

Every Saturday, we would head off into the town to get our weekly shopping. It seemed a very busy place back then with the pavements jammed with people. It was a time before superstores so everyone headed in to get all the food etc that they needed for the week. There was no pedestrianisation and the streets would be packed. Parking was always a job but we always seemed to either end up parked on the bomb site where Sainsbury's now stands or the bomb site where Toys R Us stands near Frankfort Gate. A man would wait at the entrance and issue us with a ticket (there were no machines back then). Dad would park up our Vauxhall Viva and we'd head off into town. We'd visit all the bigger shops but my favourite was Woolworth's. My memory might be playing tricks on me but many of the items seemed to be 6/6 including that painting of Kynance Cove that seemed to be on everyone's walls in the 1960s (now only found in charity shops and in doctor's surgeries!).

  

We would always end up at the Magnet Restaurant (as did everyone) for dinner. It was always quite busy and we'd go in and get a table for four. As far as I can remember, there was soup (usually oxtail), a roast and ice cream for afters. I'm sure there were other things on the menu but that's what I always had! The Magnet was very popular and I would always see kids from school with their parents there. My best friend's mum worked there at the time. BHS later opened a restaurant with a conveyor belt, which all the kids were fascinated by, so the Magnet lost some of its custom for a while. Back then, modern technology like conveyor belts were something only seen on programmes like Star Trek! Later, in the 70s, Plymouth got it's first fast food burger bar, a Wimpey! Dad would take me there to get a cheeseburger, which was 26p. You'd sit down and, if you were lucky, your cheeseburger would arrive about 40 minutes later. I loved them!
Anyway, after we left the Magnet, we'd do a bit more shopping, usually visiting shops like Spooners, Yeos, BHS, the Co-op, the Green Shield Stamp shop and Costers. If you were in any shop after 4.30pm, especially Woolworth's, a bell would go off to tell you that the shop would soon be closing.

Of course, by that time, the town was mainly deserted as everyone had left early to make sure that they were home in time for 4pm to watch the wrestling on tv! Les Kellett and Jackie Pallo seemed to be everyone's favourites!
Back at school on Monday morning, there was always a kid who would say, 'I saw you at the Magnet Restaurant on Saturday with your mum!'
Seems like a different world, although, I suppose, it was a very long time ago!

The Silver Jubilee of 1977

I've never been much of a royalist but watching the wedding of William and Kate recently made me proud to be British. It reminded me of an England that I thought had long been forgotten. It also reminded me of the Silver Jubilee of 1977. The royal family were extremely popular at the time and thousands of people turned out to see the Queen and Prince Phillip when they visited Plymouth. Being a kid, I headed off into town on the bus to take some photos. I remember as I got off the bus, the driver said to me, 'You off to see the Queen then?' which was funny because he hadn't said it to anyone else! The whole route of the Queen's journey was packed with people. I found a spot down by The Walrus in Notte Street and waited with many other people for the Queen's car to drive by. My photos never were going to be very good, I just had an old pocket Kodak 126 camera and some Magicubes (remember them?). Anyway, the Queen was driven by and Prince Philip waved and I took a photo. The crowd then headed up towards the Hoe and I followed them. There was a ceremony on the promenade and I manage to get a few more photos although from a long way away. Later, I got back home, told my parents about it all and then sent off my film to be developed. Three weeks later, I got the photos back. There was a good one of Prince Philip's hand and another of a figure, dressed in blue, well in the distance. I thought it was probably the Queen but it could have just as easily been a lamp post.
In those days, at the end of programming on Westward Television, 'God Save the Queen' was always played before the station shut down for the night. The film of the Queen visiting Plymouth was shown in this slot for many years afterwards.
It's funny that I'd gone out of my way to see the Queen and had got nowhere near her. Years later, in 1988, I was crossing the road down by the Theatre Royal and we were all told to wait a minute. The Queen was driven right by me, she looked at me, and waved. I was inches away from her. Another time, I was driving by HMS Drake and I saw some kids from the local nursery waving flags. As I drove, I looked to my right and there again was the Queen being driven by me, slowly, in the opposite direction. As our cars passed, we both turned and looked at each other and she waved again! If our windows had been open, we could have shook hands. On both occasions, I hadn't even realised that she was visiting the city. Perhaps she was stalking me.
Anyway, my photo of Prince Philip's hand and the lamp post went in the bin many years ago and the photo that illustrates this piece was kindly lent to me by Gillian Long.
It seemed a great year - lots of flag waving, street parties and daily news about the royals. I thought that the England I remembered in the 1970s as a kid had gone forever but, then again, perhaps not!

(Photo credit : Gill Long).

Plymouth Zoo

I loved visiting Plymouth Zoo when I was a kid in the 1960s and 1970s. I think it was a shilling to get in at the time. We'd buy big bags of popcorn, which were very sweet, and feed it to all of the animals. I'm sure that it couldn't have been very good for them! My favourites were the chimpanzees but there were a whole range of exotic wildlife including polar bears, giraffes, camels, seals, other types of bears, a hippo and an elephant. When we first visited in 1968, a pelican followed us all around the zoo until we left. It was like he was showing us around!
A few years ago, I collected together as many photos of the zoo as possible and put them on a website at
http://www.derektait.co.uk/zoo.htm (now gone unfortunately).
Recently, I read a letter in the Herald written by Vina Shaddick (pictured) who worked at the zoo in 1965. She was writing down her memories and wondered if she appeared in the background of anybody's photos. I wrote to Vina and told her about my website and amazingly, she found herself on the site! She's pictured here leading the pony and cart ride.
Vina wrote:
'That's me with the pony and cart on your website! It was a delight to see this and other photos of the animals that I looked after so long ago.
In case you are interested, the name of the baby Indian elephant (who died 1965) was Tammy, the pony in the photo with me was Mandy, I knew the girl holding the donkeys but have forgotten her name, and one of the donkeys was called Jenny. The Bengal tiger, retired from Chipperfields Circus, was Bengy. One of the Russian brown bears, Honey, was also from the circus and was brought in to be mated by the zoo's male bears.
I was filmed with my friend Adele by Pathe, looking over the fence at the tortoise, and thanks to your site was able to see the footage for the first time. My son bought it for me for Mother's Day, so I now have it on a DVD.'
I've very fond memories of our visits to Plymouth Zoo and there's more about it on my blog at
http://plymouthlocalhistory.blogspot.com/2009/03/plymouth-zoo.html