Plymouth's First Talkies

It's hard to imagine a time when people went to the cinema to watch a film that had no soundtrack, included subtitles and was, often, accompanied by music from a pianist.
Asked which was the first talking film to be shown in Plymouth and many people would probably say that it had to be The Jazz Singer, starring Al Jolson in 1927, which included the classic line 'You ain't heard nothing yet!'
However, the first talkie that was shown in Plymouth was called 'The Singing Fool' and it played during August 1929 .
The Western Morning News of the 8th of July 1929 carried the story:

'TALKIES FOR PLYMOUTH

Kinema enthusiasts in Plymouth will shortly have an opportunity of seeing and hearing the talkies.

The Western Morning News in officially informed that the Savoy Picture House is being wired for the new films and that during August, the first talkie film to be shown in Plymouth will be presented.'

The talkies didn't please all and the first film to be shown in Plymouth was soon reviewed in the Western Morning News of 15th August 1929:

'THE TALKIE COMES WEST

One cannot doubt after hearing the 'talkies' that they have come to stay. Despite a certain harshness and, of course, the slow drawl of the American voice, they have a dramatic force unattainable in the silent film.
This is simply illustrated in 'The Singing Fool' showing at the Savoy, Plymouth this week. Sonny Boy, the child on who the story hinges, lies seriously ill in hospital. His mother, by the bedside, suddenly observes a doctor and a nurse draw a sheet over his face. Piercing the quietude of the kinema comes the agonized scream of the distraught mother. This is a melodramatic illustration but it explains the wide difference between the silent and the talking film. The 'talkie' is a new and totally different form of entertainment, demanding the concentration of other senses. No longer can we affect a languid interest in the screen, for music and speech will soon dispel any drowsiness. Critics must remember that the 'talkie' is in its infancy and naturally will improve every year. It is to be hoped, at the same time, that our friends in America will eliminate their pronounced drawl from the films sent over here and that British enterprise will rapidly afford us opportunities of hearing our own artistes and music.'

The Singing Fool, like The Jazz Singer, also starred Al Jolson. It featured the song 'Sonny Boy' which was the first recording to sell a million copies.
The Savoy announced another talkie on its theatre posters which was due to show the next week following The Singing Fool. Entitled 'The Doctor's Secret', Vide Press called it 'the best talkie yet'. A long-forgotten film, it is thought that no copies still exist.
Many people were enthralled by the new medium. However, not everybody was pleased about the new talkies. Hatty Baker, a resident of Pomphlett, wrote a letter to the Western Morning News which was published on 30th August 1929. It read:

'Much has been written, more spoken, about the nerve-racking noise of the present day. Now, noise has invaded the silent film. The talkies are all very well in their way - a very noisy, somewhat chaotic and metallic way - but to women like myself who went at times to a kinema for rest and quiet, they are disappointing in the extreme.
When the talkie started and the noise banged out from a kind of box contraption (I do not know what it is called), the contrast after the human performers was painful in the extreme. The twang of the speech might, perhaps, be endured, though one hardly goes to an entertainment for that, in spite of one woman's remark : 'I enjoyed it so much; I cried all the time!', some people having curious ideas on enjoyment, but the metallic bang, bang of the box-band was hideous.
I returned with a headache, saying never again to the talkies.
Am I alone in such critisism? Are there not others who would like to see at least one good silent film with accompaniment?
All things pass and when this age of noise and turmoli passes, the talkie will surely (we hope and trust) will pass also.'

Hatty, like many, couldn't have predicted the future. Silent films were on their way out and in a very short time, every film would be accompanied by a soundtrack. The age of the silent film seems to come from a different world from nowadays where we are bombarded with sound from televisions, ipods, computers, radios and of course, incredible stereo sound systems in every cinema.

The Toll Gate, Halfpenny Bridge, Stonehouse

A while ago, I was kindly given a series of books called 'Days in Devonport' written by Gerald W. Barker in 1984. Inside one of them is a story told by Marjorie Claxton of an experience crossing Halfpenny Bridge many years ago in 1913. It's a lovely story and I thought that I would reproduce it here so more people can read it:

I remember Devonport, Stonehouse and Plymouth when they were three separate boroughs each thriving independently in their own particular way.
It was a pleasant walk from Devonport to Plymouth via Stonehouse. Transport was mainly by trams, which ran from the terminus in Fore Street, Devonport, down Chapel Street, stopping at Cumberland Gardens to pick up passengers, then on along past the Raglan Barracks on the left and Mt Wise on the right then down over the hill past the Brickfields, crossing Kings Road and on over the Stonehouse Bridge, through the toll gate commonly known as the Halfpenny Gate. Here, one was in Stonehouse where the trams stopped in Edgcumbe Street to pick up folk. The route continued through Union Street passing several theatres and cinemas such as the Grand, the Palace, the Savoy and the Gaiety and on to Derry's Clock, the Plymouth terminus. I remember the fascination of watching the conductor changing the trolley arm over onto the other overhead wire for the return journey. If the conductor happened to be short, this task would be tricky, as the arm was heavy and would swing and spark until it eventually clicked on the wire.

Underneath the Halfpenny Gate bridge was Stonehouse Creek, and at high tide, the stream reached as far as the Military Hospital. Boys from High Street had fine fun challenging one another to ride the logs. These huge logs, chained together, belonged to Fox Elliot the timber merchants and were towed up the creek by boat and left there to season. On the other side of the bridge, underneath it, were several boathouses approached from the Richmond Walk side of Kings Road. My uncle and aunt had a motor boat and used to take me with them on trips to Barn Pool, Cawsand and sometimes to picnic on the Breakwater. I learned to row a boat on Stonehouse Creek, mainly because my boy cousins used to tease me and I wanted to do as well as they.
I remember vividly the day I went to visit my aunt and uncle in Stonehouse. Being a lovely summer day, I felt quite important at being allowed to go alone at eight years of age. My home was at the Mt Wise end of George Street, Devonport, so I walked up through the beautiful Mt Wise Avenue, stopping for a few minutes to watch the naval officers playing cricket, then turned right past the ramparts and the New Cut leading to Richmond Walk, then down over the hill across Kings Road and to the toll gate. On production of a halfpenny, I was allowed through the turnstiles having been issued with a return ticket.
It so happened that my folks were going to visit friends so after about an hour, having had some lemonade and biscuits, I made my way back up over the bridge to the toll gate. Putting my hand in my pocket for my ticket, I was horrified to find that I'd lost it, and as the lady in charge was not the same one that I saw before, she would not let me go through. Strangely enough, the only other people around seemed to pass by in the tram or on bikes or horses and carts, so I was forced to turn back. However, I had an idea and went back, down by the brewery to the slip, hoping that I might see someone in the boathouses, or even find a boat there in which case I could row across, but alas, no people about and no boat. Then I knew the only way I could get home was a long way around, so I went along High Street, along by the Naval Hospital wall, which seemed endless, and turned up into Eldad Hill, to make my own way to Millbridge. Then the bottom simply dropped out of my world, for there at the bottom of the hill facing me was another toll gate. This was just too much. I was panic stricken whereon the floodgates burst and I remember saying, 'Whatever shall I do?' between my sobs. Then a kindly voice said, 'What's the matter? Why are you crying like this?'. Looking up, I had a blurred vision of a young soldier, who dried my tears as I had lost my handkerchief. He had a lovely face, so I blurted out my tale of woe, then he caught hold of my hand, escorted me through the gate and after asking where I lived and if I knew my way home, he gave me a penny and went on his way. I thanked him and ran through Fellows Place, up over Stoke Church Hill and past the Military Hospital. Then I came to a narrow road running between the Albion football ground and the Devonport South Western Station yard and the railway. There had recently been talk of a murder there, so being not only tired, but terrified, I took to my heels as if the very devil himself was after me. Out through the Rectory across Kings Road, on up over the Brickfields, down through Mt Wise Avenue and eventually home.
More tears were shed then from sheer exhaustion and relief being safely back with my mother. I remember the look of sheer amazement on her face, as she held me close while I poured out my story. Softly, she told me that she hoped that I had learned to be more careful as I had lost my handkerchief as well as my ticket. When I gave her the penny, she handed it back to me telling me to keep it as it was dated 1905, the year I was born.
Several years later, I went to join a friendly society, and remember the surprise I had when the gentleman who opened the door, took my name and address, then said, 'Aren't you the young lady who lost her toll gate ticket?'.
Then I remembered his face and after the meeting, he escorted me home, met my mother, and became a close friend of the family. His young friend later became my dear husband for thirty years, during which time my children always knew my soldier friend as uncle. Both soldier and husband have passed on but I remember a lifetime of happiness and friendship brought about by the loss of a halfpenny toll gate ticket. By the way, I still have that 1905 penny!

Tommy the Elephant

In May 1871, Plymouth was visited by the then Duke of Edinburgh, Prince Alfred Ernest Albert. He had been on a world cruise and arrived in Plymouth Sound on the 19th May of that year. With him he brought a baby elephant which he named Tommy.
The crew of the ship marched down Fore Street in Devonport with Tommy at their head and this is probably the only photo of him that still remains. No-one knows what became of Tommy but perhaps he ended up in one of England's many zoos.
The Prince went on to become Vice-Admiral, Channel Squadron, Commander-in-Chief, Devonport in 1890 and later became Admiral of the Fleet.

Bronze Age finds at Warleigh

I regularly take my dog for a walk at Warleigh Woods, near to Tamerton Foliot village, and for several months, there have been lorries travelling back and forth as a solar farm is created nearby.
Apparently the work has now stopped because finds from the Bronze Age have been discovered during all the digging work.
Tamerton Foliot and the Warleigh Estate are steeped in history and also have connections with the Romans.
Many years ago, local historian, Marshall Ware, told me that his interest in history began when he was given a greenstone neolithic axe in 1910 by Mr H Montagu-Evans. Similar axes were found in the 1960s near to the Brown and Sharpe factory site. Marshall's axe was excavated in 1898 by a team of soldiers, headed by a Captain Mullens, by Ernesettle Woods, which pointed to it being one of the earliest settlements in the area.
It will be interesting to discover exactly what has been found at Warleigh and there must be many more relics and much more history that lays yet undiscovered.

Dartmoor Through the Year

Amberley have just released my latest book, 'Dartmoor Through the Year' which features full-colour photos of Dartmoor throughout the seasons.
It's available from all good book shops and also from Amazon here:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Dartmoor-Through-Year-Derek-Tait/dp/1848683553/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1361307139&sr=1-1

Bill Haley

The King of Rock 'n' Roll, Elvis Presley, never visited Plymouth (or England) but the father of Rock 'n' Roll, Bill Haley, did.
On 22nd February 1957, Bill Haley and his Comets appeared for one night only at the Odeon in Frankfort Street. Tickets for the circle were 8/6 and also on the bill were the Vic Lewis Orchestra together with comedians Malcolm Vaughan and Kenneth Earle. Also featured was Desmond Lane with his tin whistle!
Bill played to an audience of 3,000 who, according to a report in the Herald, 'clapped and stamped their feet to the music'. The report said that the show was definately not for 'squares' and included the 'monotonous, pounding rhythm of electric guitars, string bass, and drums'. The show ended with the three songs 'Shake Rattle 'n' Roll', 'See You Later Alligator' and 'Rock Around The Clock'.
Hundreds of fans waited outside the venue hoping to get a glimpse of Bill but both he and the Comets left by a side door after the concert and were taken to their next venue at Southampton.  The tour was promoted by Lew and Leslie Grade and other venues included: February 1957: 6th  The Dominion in London for 4 nights, 10th The Gaumont at Coventry,
11th The Odeon at Nottingham, 12th The Odeon at Birmingham, 13th The Odeon at Manchester, 14th The Odeon at Leeds, 15th The Odeon at Sunderland, 16th The Odeon at Newcastle, 17th The Gaumont at Bradford, 18th The Odeon at Glasgow for 2 nights, 20th The Odeon at Liverpool, 21st The Capitol at Cardiff, 22nd The Odeon at Plymouth, 23rd The Gaumont at Southampton and on the 24th The Gaumont State at Kilburn for 3 nights.
March 1957:
1st The Hippodrome at Belfast for 2 nights, 3rd The Regal at Edmonton, 4th The Davis at Croydon for 2 nights, 6th The Carlton in Norwich, 7th The Gaumont at Doncaster, 8th The Gaumont at Wolverhampton, 9th The Gaumont at Cheltenham and on the 10th back to The Dominion in London.
The Comets included Johnny Grande on accordion, Billy Williamson on steel guitar, Ralph Jones on drums, Rudy Pompilli on saxophone, Al Rex on bass and Franny Beecher on electric guitar. Other songs included in their set were Razzle Dazzle, Rock-a-Beating Boogie, Mambo Rock, The Saints Rock and Roll, Rocking Through The Rye, Rip It Up, Rudy's Rock, Don't Knock The Rock, Live It Up, Crazy Man Crazy and Hook Line And Sinker.

Nazereth House at Devil's Point

Many people who regularly walk at Devil's Point will have noticed the building work that has been taking place at Nazareth House.
Before Nazareth House was built in the 1970s, the site used to house the Earl of Mount Edgcumbe's Winter Villa. The photo on the left shows the grand old building that once stood there.

The Winter Villa was built at Stonehouse in 1855 and was seen as a more comfortable and suitable dwelling for Ernest Augustus, 3rd Earl of Mount Edgcumbe (1797-1861), who was, at the time, in poor health. The house had fifty rooms but was little used after Ernest's death in 1861. By 1900, with the house no longer being used by the Edgcumbe family, it was leased to a prominent local family. In 1927, the premises were sold to the Sisters of Nazereth who were a Roman Catholic Order. The building was converted into a school and orphanage for young girls and opened in 1932 with a new name, Nazareth House. Orphans from Saint Teresa's Orphanage at Gasking Street, Plymouth were soon transferred to the the new building.

In the Second World War, the girls were evacuated to Elfordleigh and a regiment of Royal Marines were billeted there. The building was partly destroyed during heavy bombing and the cleared site was used for a chapel. After the war, the nuns and girls returned and were housed in what remained of the building. However, during the 1970s, because of maintenance bills, what was left of the Winter Villa was removed and a purpose-built orphanage was constructed in its place. Beside the small orphanage, there was also an old folks home. Recent reconstruction and rebuilding has taken place after the building was found to contain asbestos.

The second photo shows residents of Stonehouse holding a garden fete in the Winter Villa in 1912.

The third photo shows the villa as seen from Plymouth Sound.