The Christmas Album

[RedRiver]

There's a silly Rodney Dangerfield film where he attempts to con his way through college. Somebody asks how he plans to fake a book report on SLAUGHTERHOUSE FIVE. The doorbell rings. "Hey, Kurt! Thanks for coming!"

Ms. Trevor was always good. But she best shows her stuff in hard-beaten roles such as RAW DEAL and KEY LARGO. Who wouldn't?

[moira finnie]

The Christmas Album of holidays past is gearing up for a return this year. As you make your way rushing through the holiday crowds or simply basking in the quiet glow of the hope and goodwill that still shines gently through the tinsel, watch this thread for upcoming glimpses of the shadowy figures of cinema past in mid-revel.

[knitwit45]

yay! what movie is this? or is it just an old photo? looks very interesting, would love to hear the story.

[JackFavell]

I don't think it's a movie....

[knitwit45]

Hey twinkle toes, love your avatar!! Wednesdays just got a WHOLE lot better!!!

[JackFavell]

Thanks, Knitty! I have The Carioca playing on an endless loop in my brain this morning... the original earworm! But it's kind of pleasurable.

I was looking for something Christmas-y, but when this photo popped up, I fell in love.

[movieman1957]

The top photo looks British. (Maybe it is the bus.)

[JackFavell]

It's a really difficult picture to pinpoint - I was thinking it was from another country too, but they are driving on the right. Also hard to tell what year it's from... at first glance I thought it was from the first world war, but then there's that one man's hat toward the bottom right of the photo, and a few ladies looking far from dressy, which indicates to me that it's later, perhaps late twenties or more likely, early thirties. It strikes me that those folks waiting for Santa have absolutely no money, everyone looks rather gaunt to me, even Santa himself. The kids don't look just eager, but full of want, which puts the photo in the Depression era for me.

[moira finnie]

The photo is a real life event from the UK. I have seen this Father Christmas on a bus image listed as 1920s-1930s era, though I haven't found more yet. I will let you know asap when I do find out more.

[JackFavell]

Thanks Moira, it's really intriguing.

[Rita Hayworth]

I just loved that photo you posted Moira!

[moira finnie]

Thanks, Erik. I'm glad you liked that striking pic too.

Here are two more images from what I think may be the same occasion. The first one is listed as from Nov. 2, 1926 in London featuring those hungry looking, almost desperate children chasing Father Christmas through the streets. Based on the high perspective of this photo, I think this image may have been captured from the top of that double decker bus seen in the first photograph. The Saint Nick figure was reportedly headed to a South London department store to distribute toys (I wonder if he made it?). Since 1926 was the year of the failed General Strike in Great Britain in May, I suspect that it may have been a leaner than usual Christmas for many children that year. Perhaps this was a business attempt to generate some good cheer among the masses?



The second image above is said to be children from "The Royal Caledonian School enjoying a festive Christmas pageant on an open top bus which is carrying Santa and his helpers through the streets" in Dec., 1926. The Royal Caledonian School began in 1815 and it still exists as a trust. In the period when this picture was taken it was a home for "children (no age limit) of Scots who have served in the Armed Forces, or the children of poor Scots living in the London area," particularly those kids whose parents have been posted abroad, moving frequently. Leaving them behind was most often due to the death of the parent(s), abandonment of a child of Scottish heritage, or those kids whose parents felt that a consistent education in a relatively safe environment was more advantageous for them than having the child as a kind of camp follower. I would guess that there were many children orphaned by WWI who were among the crowds in this picture. I hope that they had fun that day.

I am guessing that the three images posted really belong together from the same event on the same day. What do you think?

[JackFavell]

Absolutely! Yes, that all makes so much sense Moira. I went back for another look at the first picture and realized that there were more ladies in cloche hats there than I had originally seen, which again places it in the mid to late twenties... and I'm quite sure you've pegged our Saint Nick in all the photos as the same fellow or at least the same costume. I hadn't thought of the general strike, but that would be the exact right time period. I wonder how you found these other two photos? Good for you and your research capabilities! As for the children, they look much happier in these two photos. I bet this was something they remembered all their lives.

[moira finnie]

Let's kick off this entry in The Christmas Album in the company of one of the least domestic of creatures: "The Master," as Noel Coward was known by those who loved, were bemused, or were in awe of him. Actor, playwright, composer, headliner extraordinaire, he was hardly a man who brings to mind an entertainment geared to the kiddies. Late in life, an interviewer pressed Noel Coward about his religious beliefs. At first he tried to put him off, but when he insisted on knowing his attitude toward God, the legendary wit commented, "We've never been intimate, but maybe we have a few things in common." Finally, growing slightly impatient with the journalist, the man blurted out, "I have no religion, but I believe in courage." Perhaps, in that same playful yet incisive spirit of noblesse oblige, "the master" saw an opportunity to share a bit of his belief in courage with a non-paying audience sorely in need of it--with what originally was believed to have been a temporary circumstance in 1934.

We all think we know Noel Coward, a legendary figure in theater and films, as well as a latter-day gay icon whose discretion nimbly avoided hypocrisy. He is easy to picture rubbing elbows with a Lord Montbatten, a Gladys Cooper, an Ivor Novello, or a Gertrude Lawrence while supping at the Café Royal in the heart of London or hosting a long weekend at his Goldenhurst Farm near the cliffs of Dover. In some years, he might be weekending with Viv and Larry at Notley Abbey, jetting off to Switzerland to his snowy chalet at Les Avants for drinks with Liz and Dick, or dashing down to his seaside home at Firefly, to paint with Winston Churchill or share a cocktail with the Queen Mother at his pied-à-terre in Jamaica. This social swirl was all in service to his desire to maintain a position in society and to exercise his fabled "talent to amuse."

Yet, for years this creative and dynamic individual would often forego such heady company to share something of himself with individuals who knew little of his protean gifts, but responded to something real in the often overlooked, nurturing side of his temperament.

He created a stir wherever he went. None more so than the day he burst into a chilly room in the Actors Orphanage at Langley Hall in Buckinghamshire filled with pale, unruly, and neglected ragamuffins--most of them under the age of 12--in that very bleak year of the Depression, 1934. The Actors Orphanage had existed since 1896 as a haven for the progeny of the profession: the abandoned, the inconvenient, the truly destitute, and a few children without any family, but who had some connection to British acting. Most were not orphans, but many were illegitimate children whose existence taxed their sometimes loving but desperate actor-parents, while others were devoted to the stage and screen, with simply no time or instinct for parenting. As the economy limped along throughout the '30s, the increasingly acute needs of these children and the tendency of past Actors Orphanage Presidents to take their responsibilities rather lightly changed once Coward succeeded an ailing Gerald du Maurier in the post in '34.


Above: Noel Coward and his young wards at The Actor's Orphanage at Langley Hall in 1934.

Rather than assuming that something was amiss that day at Langley Hall and promptly turning on his heels immediately to escape to a more sumptuous salon, Noel Coward simply started to win over this tough little audience, one Mars Bar at a time. Fortunately, he had brought copious amounts of the candy bar with him, dazzling the children with his ebullience and generosity, understanding implicitly how welcome such a treat might be to the children. "We couldn't believe it," recalled one of the boys, Granville Bantock, "...it would have taken us a whole month's pocket money to buy one. He spoke to us and sat down at our old honky-tonk piano and played--it sounded terrific." Bantock also recalled that away from the orphanage, Noel immediately began to organize regular fetes throughout the year to raise the funds needed to take care of the place, initiating events such as a "midnight cavalcade," called the Night of 100 Stars, as well as Theatrical Garden Parties where Coward inveigled the likes of the Duke and Duchess of Kent, along with his less royal friends such as Douglas Fairbanks, Jr., Gertrude Lawrence, Jack Hawkins, and many others to help with the cause.

Cynics may have assumed that Coward took on his duties as head of the orphanage to burnish his social prestige, but for the children themselves, the performing dynamo appears to have remained an understanding champion of the residents privately as well. Graham Payn, a member of Coward's inner circle, wrote that Noel "was marvelous with children, and was always passionate about what interested them. He never patronised them, and always treated them as adults. They repaid his compliment with the warmth of their response. Noel's experiences as a child actor in an adult world undoubtedly helped him to understand them, another example of Peter Pan coming out." Under his guidance, whenever Coward found that staff members had exercised power cruelly, he took steps to remove those individuals, but he also wisely told the sometimes wild children that their own self-discipline was key to make things better. Gone were the cold baths, beatings, excessive punishments and ghastly food that had given the home a bleak aspect. Soon, Coward, whose work and social schedule were always overcrowded, immersed himself, his elegant friends, and his assistants in improving the quality of care that each of the approximately 60 children received at the orphanage.


Above: Noel Coward with the children of The Actors Orphanage in the '30s

According to one boy, Roy Williams, who was there from 1929 to 1940, when he entered the orphanage at the age of five, "it was a pretty awful place, really Dickensian and badly-run...A teacher named Austin ruled with the cane, and just before Coward's first visit had given some young offenders an unprecedented twenty-four strokes; the school had risen in protest, the children going 'on strike.' Noel was 'horrified to discover that former presidents had...just let it run under this awful character..." and the new President found himself supervising the redecoration of dank rooms, painting "railings and gates... in red oxide" and constructing " a new boys' dormitory...with more windows and with single beds rather than bunk beds. Lawns and pitches [playing fields] were re-laid and the tennis court re-surfaced." By 1938, the orphanage was moved to a large country house, Silverlands, Chertsey in Surrey, which became the home of the charity. Even when many of the children were sent to America for their safety throughout the war, the orphanage managed to thrive and survive under Coward's care. Silverlands closed near the end of the '50s, but TACT, the Actors Childrens Trust as well as The Noel Coward Foundation both soldier on, helping nurture the children of actors and foster creativity to this day.


Above: Coward entertaining his rapt charges at Silverlands in 1939.
Not all of Coward's guidance was commonplace for the period. Happy to see that the children were not "looking down-trodden and dismal" when he visited, Noel liberalized the school; making it co-ed at a time when segregation of the sexes was normal. Before Coward's administration, boys who were spied looking at a girl had been physically punished. Noel took a more pragmatic approach to the issue. Over-attentive staff who were perceived as rather too interested in the boys and girls (particularly at bath time) were weeded out. Yet, as the actor-manager explained in a letter, "I had a talk with [a headmaster] about sex and told him not to get too fussed because all children had sex curiosity and too much emphasis on its sinfulness would only make it more attractive, and that as long as he kept it within bounds he could close an eye discreetly every now and then. I am sure this was good advice although perhaps not strictly conventional."

Another time, the President of the orphanage took in hand a particularly unruly boy. Coward amanuensis Cole Lesley described a time when the world famous figure and fractious rebel "went for a walk in the grounds and sat on a bench. 'Now look here, nobody knows better than I what fun it is to be naughty,' said Coward. ‘But surely always being the Worst Boy in the School must become boring. You are intelligent, why don’t you try being the Best Boy for a change? Give it a trial. I have always believed in bribery; if you will try it for a month I will give you ten shillings.’ The bargain was struck, the boy became and remained the Best, and is now a well-known film director.” [Research indicates that the boy in question may have grown up to be Peter Collinson, who directed Noel in The Italian Job in 1969, one of Coward's most unexpected and droll film appearances].

The experiences of the children in the orphanage that appear to have been most cherished were those occasions when Coward was [sometimes] accompanied by very glamorous ladies."


Above: Marlene Dietrich with a child at Silverlands in the '50s, smiling up at Noel Coward.

One boy remembered that Coward "once came with Ivor Novello and three lovely ladies of the stage who were in beautiful dresses and large hats. They might have been Evelyn Laye, Diana Wynyard and Mary Ellis," though Flora Robson, Edith Evans, Cathleen Nesbitt, and Sybil Thorndike were among the most regular female visitors, many of whom became Trustees of The Actors Orphanage for a time. Another year there was a day when Coward stepped out of his car with the epitome of glamour at the time: Marlene Dietrich. Jon Morris, a resident at the orphanage, recalled being hastily dressed in pajamas over his uniform, and posed with the visitors, who were both smoking away in the dormitory (against the rules) while the shutter clicked away. Another child remembered that both visitors apparently wore the same heady and memorable cologne during that visit!

One actor of the period who did not need to be goaded to participate in events for the Actors Orphanage was Frank Lawton whose visits, often in the company of his beautiful wife, the singer and actress Evelyn Laye, were exciting for more than one reason. Lawton's film appearances included Coward's hit Cavalcade (1933) and James Whale's drama One More River (1934), but he may be best remembered today for his role as the adult David Copperfield in 1935. Lawton himself, who had been at Langley Hall as a resident when his peripatetic theatrical family could not keep him with them when he was a boy, was the driving force behind a stellar event each summer when he led eleven actors against the school team during a Cricket match that was a highlight of each year.

This kind of stardust was welcome, but towards Christmas the air at the orphanage became charged with excitement. Trips to London to see the latest Ivor Novello musical, to assist at a star-studded Theatrical Garden Party and to take tea with the Lord Mayor of London were not unknown. The children's own pantomime in the late '30s was put on in their theater at the school, where they received lessons in stagecraft from visiting professionals. These productions were so good, that Noel Coward arranged for special matinee performances of the children's show at the Gaiety Theatre in The Strand.

Best of all, at "Christmastime," according to former resident and author Judy Staber, "a huge tree was set up on the lowest landing and Father Christmas came down the stairs from above and handed us each two envelopes, befor he gave out any presents. They contained postal orders for five shillings (later ten, with inflation), one from Noël Coward (later Laurence Olivier when he became President, and finally from Richard Attenborough as Chairman) and the other more generally from the Committee. A Yule log of enormous size burned in the huge fireplace. Radiators heated the rest of the house somewhat sparsely, fired up by the enormous boilers which were stoked with the coke shovelled into wheelbarrows by the older boys on Saturday mornings. There was a window seat by the fireplace where we sat to watch for the arrival of parents" who sometimes came to visit.

Some years, the Christmas party at Silverlands was broadcast on the radio on a program called “In Town Tonight." The cast included Father Christmas and numerous children residents of the orphanage. It was an occasion of "paper caps and crackers and general bonhomie," recalled Coward. "What the public didn't know was that the gaily wrapped presents shown being distributed were simple props; there was nothing inside, and they had to be handed back at the end." As Coward understood all too well, it was only show business, and after all, it was only December 7th when this aired, playing upon the public's longing to help and raising the profile of these children and this needed institution, which reflected a savvy understanding of the world. A certain tough-minded kindness and genuinely thoughtful approach to the problems of these children indicated that he was something more than merely a famous figure in or out of the spotlight.



When he left the post of President of the Actors Orphanage in 1956, Coward wrote the following exceptionally eloquent message of farewell, which can be seen below:

Sources:
The History of TACT, (The Actors Childrens Trust)
Hoare, Philip, Noel Coward: A Biography (Simon & Schuster, 1998)
Payn, Graham, My Life with Noel Coward (Applause Books, 2000)
Staber, Judy, Silverlands: Growing Up at the Actors' Orphanage, A Memoir,
(Troy Book Makers, 2010)
The Noel Coward Foundation
The Noel Coward Society, Granville Bantock at The Actors' Orphanage

[knitwit45]

As usual, Ms. M, you have shared an unsuspected insight into someone fascinating. Thanks!