The Belle of Mayfair

Performed at the Vaudeville Theatre.
A musical play by C. H. Brookfield and Cosmo Hamilton.
Music by Leslie Stuart.
Opened 11th April, 1906 - ran for 418 Performances.

Starring: Edna May, Louie Pounds, Camille Clifford.

Editorial and Photos all as published in 'The Book of the Play' Vol. 1, No. 1 (1906).

Cast		The principal players in this production.
The Play and the Players		Review of the play.
Musical Numbers		Some songs from the play.
Interviewing Miss Edna May		Transcript of an Interview with Edna May.
Meredith on Matrimony		Some of the smart sayings of Mr. Courtice Pounds, as Hugh Meredith, a good-natured but cynical bachelor.
Scenes from the Play		A selection of scenes the play

THE CAST

Principal performers in the play.

THE PLAY AND THE PLAYERS

Like Shakespeare's exquisite love idyll of "Romeo and Juliet," "The Belle of Mayfair" concerns itself with the love affair of two young people belonging to rival houses. The Montagus become the Mount-Highgates and the Capulets the Chaldicotts, but, unlike Shakespeare, Mr. Charles H. E. Brookfield and Mr. Cosmo Hamilton have been more merciful to the young lovers, and the play ends to the merry strains of "There's going to be a wedding in Hanover Square."

The first act takes place at a bazaar in a private park; a group of seductive stall-holders are preparing for action. Among the distinguished visitors present are the Duchess of Dunmow, otherwise Miss Camille Clifford, looking as only Miss Camille Clifford can look, and H.S.H. Princess Carl of Ehrenbreitstein, a charming English girl, married to a German Prince, and played most delightfully by Miss Louie Pounds. Amid a scene of some excitement, we have a sham auction with Mr. Mervyn Dene as the energetic auctioneer, and this gives Miss Edna May an opportunity to make her bow to the audience.

Raymond and Julia are soon busy exchanging vows of undying fidelity, much to the alarm of Sir John Chaldicott, Bart., M.P., Julia's father, who has determined that never, never shall his daughter wed a son of the hated house of Mount-Highgate. Everything seems to conspire against the lovers. Princess Carl, though in sympathy with their cause, promises to use her influence to get Raymond a diplomatic appointment abroad; her brother, Hugh Meredith, who is a gay bachelor and a friend of Raymond's, advises the young man to give up all thoughts of marriage and have a good time instead; and, finally, Sir John decides to end the attachment by announcing his daughter's engagement to the Comte de Perrier, an impecunious alien, who turns up at an opportune moment. The foreign gentleman, who professionally acts as the conductor of a band which has been engaged to play at Lady Chaldicott's house, is employed at the rate of £2 per day and expenses to act as official suitor to Julia. No self-respecting Britisher could, of course, consent to have his best girl appropriated by a Count of uncertain nationality, so Raymond immediately threatens to punch his rival's head and elope with Julia on a motor-car to Brighton.

In the second act the scene is laid in the drawingroom of Sir John Chaldicott's house. Sir John and his lady are at the opera, and Julia is being presented at Court by the Princess. A member of the orchestra arrives with a bag containing the leader of the band's costume. Shortly afterwards Sir John and Lady Chaldicott return from the opera. A number of guests have been invited to meet Julia after her presentation. Soon Julia enters radiant and beautiful in her Court dress, and ere long Raymond turns up to plan the elopement. Julia rather alarms her lover by telling him she can't elope without Pincott, but, as it turns out, Pincott is merely her maid. It is arranged that Raymond shall ask Doctor Marmaduke Lawrence, the Bishop of Brighton, to officiate. Interrupted in their scheming, Raymond, on Julia's inspiration, dons the costume of the missing bandmaster, and confers with her father as to the programme of music. Sir John rather fancies chop and suet, in reality Chopin's Suite, and is ultimately terrified at the pseudo-bandmaster's change of manner, one moment soft-purring, cat-like, and the next wildly declamatory and tigerish.

Just when everything is arranged, Princess Carl appeals to Julia not to run away with Raymond, as the shock might injure her father's health, and Julia, like a dutiful daughter, consents to wait. Parents are traditionally inconsiderate, and Sir John demands that his daughter shall give up Raymond entirely and unconditionally Julia makes a tender and impassioned appeal that her heart may not be broken, and in the end Sir John gives way. Lord Mount-Highgate and his wife, who arrive to assist in frustrating the elopement, hear Julia declare her love for Raymond, and her father give his consent to the marriage. A general reconciliation takes place, and everything ends happily.

Won't you come to St. George's,
To see how Love forges,
His chain, chain, chain?
Don't you endeavour
To sever the fetter,
It's all in vain.

With rings on your fingers,
And ringers and singers,
To drown your care
So come to St. George's,
Won't you come over, come over, come over?
We'll all be there.

As might be expected from the authors of "The Belle of Mayfair," the play bristles with good things sparkling epigrams, smart witticisms, and clever fooling. The music is eminently characteristic of the composer, Mr. Leslie Stuart. The melodies are all distinctive and original, and rippling with quaintly harmonious effects. The cast of the play is an imposing one. First, there is Miss Edna May, more beautiful and girlish than ever. Her acting is more mature, her singing sweeter, and she is still the possessor of that wonderful charm of manner. When she is on the stage her beauty and personality attracts and holds one like a magnet. Miss Louie Pounds has never been seen to better advantage. She looks a typical English girl, and her singing of "And the weeping willow wept" is quite inimitably artistic. Mr. Farren Soutar, who plays Raymond, acts as well as he sings. He has a genuine sense of humour, and he is quite free from any eccentricities of manner or gesture. Mr. Courtice Pounds, as the gay, middle-aged bachelor, something of a cynic and philosopher, is delightful. Mr. Arthur Williams gives a most effective study of the good-natured and wealthy bourgeois Baronet who has migrated from Bayswater to Mayfair, and again proves himself to be our first comedian. Mr. Charles Angelo is screamingly funny as the Count. Miss Irene Desmond, Miss Maud Boyd, Miss Ruby Ray, and Miss Jane May as Lady Violet Gussop, with a smart society accent and an exaggerated manner contribute to the general gaiety.

L.V.

MUSICAL NUMBERS

She, was a maiden fair to see.
  Head over heels in love was he;
  Under a weeping willow tree
    They met and lingered there;
She was so modest and so shy,
  Stood with a dark and drooping eye;
  He with a long and loving sigh
    Approached the maid, the maiden fair

She looked at him without a word,
  She had expected what she heard,
  And tho' it may seem so absurd,
    Her anger grew the while;
Atmost a quarrel then took place,
  She turned away her smiling face,
  Then she reproved him with a grace,
    In case he saw the lurking smile

Under the weeping willow tree,
  Near to the simple maid he stepped;
He said, "Say you love me, love me, I implore,
  For you are just the one, only one that I adore,
  I've never, never loved a girl before!"
    And the weeping willow wept.

Under the weeping willow tree,
  Arms around the simple maiden crept.
She murmured, "How dare you!" to the amorist.
  "Sir unhand me at once when you see that I resist"
  I have never, never yet been wooed or kissed!
    And the weeping willow wept.

Under the weeping willow tree,
  Both of them seemed to be adept;
He said to the maid, "Marry, marry me, oh! do,"
  She said "Yes," and before they had whispered their adieu
  They vowed that to each other they'd be true!
    And the weeping willow wept!

Each one believed the other's tale,
  Two little faces turned so pale,
  Love is so strong and yet so frail
    They soon learned how to kiss.
But in their hearts that beat so true,
  Neither observed what each one knew,
  Novices do not often woo,
    Not woo in such a style as this!

I know a girl-a dandygirl and a daisy,
  As simple a girl.
  As ever you'll see.
I know a girl who looks like sending me crazy,
  She's goody and prude,
  Appealing to me.

Who is the girl who's sending you crazy; crazy,
  As simple a daisy
  As ever you'll see?

She's a lady, and don't forget
  She's not said yes
  To anything yet;
But you can bet this little brunette
  will not coquette
  With me.

What's her name, and what is her game?
  It's Mary! It's Mary!
  It's Mary every time.

Why can't someone think of a Mary
  Who's just a flirt like others I know,
  With just bravado, Just bravado!
Why are all the goody-good girls called Mary?
  Or is it just because she rhymes with fairy?
Well, it's all the same,
  It's all the same
For any girl to have any old name
  If the girl's-all right.

I know a girl, as fair a girl as there may be,
  As saucy a girl
  As ever you'll see.
I know a girl-she's just as cute as a baby,
  A wink or a sigh
  Means trouble for me.

Who is the girl who sent you crazy, crazy?
  Just give her this daisy and say it's from me.'

INTERVIEWING MISS EDNA MAY

By LOUIS VINCENT.

When one has entered the stage door of the Vaudeville Theatre, past the most amiable and courteous commissionaire who ever presided over the destinies of a stage door, and walked down a few stairs, before one has time to realise it, one is caught up in a wild wave of musical sounds and bustling femininity. The transition from the narrow alley, where the houses almost touch and the sky is just a dark blue wedge with a few lonely little stars twinkling like the orbs of an owl, into this bewildering fairy land, is sudden and startling. The curtain has just gone down on the first act. The applause in front is ebbing, and the echo of the finale receding. Perspiring and thirsty scene-shifters jostle one on the stairs and then a dazzling vision of noisy beauty floats past. The ladies of the chorus humming a refrain scamper along to their dressing rooms. It is all life and laughter, sparkling and exhilirating. Miss May stands at the door of her dressing-room with outstretched hand and a charming smile of welcome. Within her room the change from the squalid picturesqueness of the alley is effectively completed. One is confronted with a vision of white and the delicate odour of lilies of the valley. Miss May is dressed all in white. Here is the sweetness of that Juliette of the old-time love story and all the piquant loveliness of the modern Juliette of Mayfair. The keynote of the dressing-room is white with just one or two touches of colour. Some freshly-cut flowers on the mantel-piece and a splash of chintz draping.

On the dressing-table are two tiny vases of lilies of the valley.

Interviews in the ordinary accepted sense of the term are stupid in the extreme. Just imagine a prosaic looking interviewer seated in the boudoir of a beautiful woman with note book and pencil in hand asking silly questions and expecting serious replies.

If the lady had any sense of humour she would scream, and the man, if he had any gallantry or was at all susceptible to beauty, would be reduced to a state of incoherency. Interviewing a man is different, but with a woman the essence of an interview should be merely an impression. That is, at least in my eyes, the ideal interview, but fortunately or otherwise one never lives up to one's ideals, so Miss May and I fell to talking of, amongst other things, picture post cards! "I sat up in bed on Sunday and signed quite two hundred. On another occasion I went to Margate for a few days' holiday and during that time I improved the shining hour by autographing no less than six hundred post cards." "Why not employ a secretary?" I suggested. Miss May looked quite aghast. "And deceive the people who want my autograph-never!"

Then we talked of the dear old Belle of New York, and Miss May remarked on the wonderful characterisation of the polite lunatic and the sweet Salvation lass who won her way to all our hearts. Speaking of American audiences, Miss May thinks them quite as critical as English audiences, but easier on a first night. "They never boo, but if they don't like the play just remain silent or leave the theatre." It would be too much to expect the "serious students of the drama," who grace the gallery on first night productions in London to imitate this example.

Miss May spoke of her tours in America with " The School Girl" and "The Catch of the Season " as tremendous. When I asked her about the rumour concerning her leaving the lyric stage for real comedy she smiled. "That was when I lost my voice, but it is much stronger now, and I love music. I love sitting here in my room and listening to the orchestra and the songs." I had intended to ask Miss May her opinion of Dr. Reich's opinion of American women and other weighty matters, such as the vexed question of the suffragette, but the announcement of her cue cut our informal talk short. We had been talking just three minutes.

MEREDITH ON MATRIMONY

Some of the smart sayings of Mr. Courtice Pounds, as Hugh Meredith, a good-natured but cynical bachelor.

...Take my advice, make your heart a butterfly - or a bumble bee if you like - to suck honey where it may - but, above all, make a friend of your youth, follow your youth and he'll stick to you as mine has to me. Matrimony means middle age, my boy - and your heart with a pin through it in a specimen case. But bachelor. hood means youth and free life and a free philosophy. Let your heart go maying. Don't let it be caught and stuck in a cabinet with the camphor of humdrum propriety to preserve it. Let your heart go maying !

Marriage is a motor omnibus
That plies for hire, to carry bachelors
Upon the road that's "paved with good intentions";
Its panting engines are poor human hearts,
Its petrol is the spirit of adventure
That is distilled from inexperience,
And its ignition spark the electric light
That lies in woman's eyes. It's steering wheel
A wheel of fortune, be it weal or woe!
And cupid its conductor; with a smile
Upon his baby face he beckons you
And takes you in - to be a passenger
From earth to fairyland; he takes you in.
For once inside, he asks you for the fare,
Twice, thrice, four times what you expected. Then
You notice the omnibus is filled
With glum fools like yourself, who paid the price
To sit on threadbare cushions stuffed with thorns,
Called "small economies "; while some outside,
Upon garden seats, without umbrellas
Await the run of a rainy day.
Then peering through the window of your prison
You see the chauffeur is a skeleton
Called "Incompatibility of temper."
So with a shriek you struggle to be free,
Yet can't escape that Pirate Omnibus
That holds you prisoner. For Cupid calls
To stern Policemen, named Propriety,
To keep you in your place until there comes
A skid - a side slip, and sudden stop,
And you awake - if you are fortunate,
To say, "Confound that lobster mayonnaise,
It made me dream I was a married man!"

... Marriage is the last resource of the unimaginative man.

... The best marriages are made in America.

... Bachelors are born, like poets. It is the married men who are made.

... Marriage is a most risky speculation in the world. Marry for money and you sigh for poverty and a pipe. Marry for love and you spend your life examining the post-marks of your wife's letters.

... In love the one woman in the world who likes you refuses to marry you.

SCENES FROM THE PLAY

Click any image for a larger view
Julia Chaldicott (Edna May)	The Duchess of Dunmow (Camille Clifford)	The rival houses clash	The Gibson girl as an English Duches	Gay Mayfair at a garden party
Julia and her suitors	The balcony scene	Flowers for Lady Rosalind	A portrait study of Edna May	Juliette up to date
Julia returns from court	The Princes Carl (Louie Pounds)	Edna May as a debutante	Perrier and Raymond almost come to blows	Perrier challenges Raymond
Beauty and the beast	Earl and Countess Highgate	The Finale