Tuesday January 18, 1921
It was an unseasonably cold afternoon for summer, although dry. So dry that Palmerstonians had only just been permitted to hose their gardens between 7-8 pm – but had to stop immediately if they heard the fire bell ringing.
The weather didn’t bother the colourful group of people alighting from the train and boarding a special charabanc for the short ride to the Opera House on Church St.
These were the ladies and gentlemen of the Robert Courtneidge theatre company, on a whistlestop tour of the country, and now in town to present a one-night performance of the popular comedy The Man From Toronto.
This play had a sensational two-year run at the Duke of York’s Theatre in London and then a sell-out tour of Australia before the company sailed off to New Zealand. Now, these celebrities were here, just a few hours ahead of treading the grandest boards our town could provide.
Thanks to their trusty advance agent Charles Berkeley, almost every ticket had been snapped up for the play, despite the rather expensive prices – from seven shillings and sixpence in the dress circle, down to a shilling in the pit.
But who could resist publicity such as: ‘‘There will be nothing as fresh, fragrant and fascinating in Palmerston North as The Man From Toronto, Douglas Murray’s famous comedy, presented by JC Williamson in conjunction with Hugh D Mcintosh, tomorrow... a breath of Devonshire, sweet as Devonshire cream. Meet Robert Courtneidge’s company Tuesday night – the original London company in their original success. Box plan now open at Oates’ Music Store.’’
Scottish-born Courtneidge was 62, an impresario, director, producer and playwright, in the prime of his career. His daughter Rosaline Courtneidge, 18, was playing a supporting role in the comedy, having made her stage debut two years earlier. Rosaline had sparkling eyes, a vivacious personality and soft brown hair cut in the latest Eton-crop style.
Her older sister Cicely, born in Sydney, Australia, during her parents’ 1893 theatrical tour, was not in the cast, but was busy back in London building a successful career with her song-anddance-partner husband Jack Hulbert.
Back home were also sibling Charles and mother Rosaline Adams Courtneidge, stage name Rosie Nott, who had herself grown up in a theatrical family.
The plot of The Man From Toronto was simple, but full of humorous twists and turns. It featured Fergus, a Canadian, and Leslie, an English girl, who had never met, but who had both inherited an enormous sum of money in an eccentric relative’s will. The catch? They had to marry each other to collect the money.
The heroine decides that, before Fergus arrives at her country home, she will get to know him as he really is by pretending to be the housemaid.
And so the show went on.
By the time the Manawatu¯ Times’ review appeared, the company had already packed out, on the way to the next venue. But readers noted that ‘‘local playgoers will remember for some time to come, The Man From Toronto as being the most delightful, laughter-producing comedy staged here for many years. The cast was excellent, the principal roles being interpreted in a masterly manner by Mr George Tully and Miss Margaret Swallow.
‘‘The plot was decidedly clever... while the many humorous situations, witty dialogue and amusing actions kept the audience in sustained laughter.’’
The Manawatu¯ Standard critic was similarly charmed and wrote: ‘‘It afforded nearly three hours of continuous merriment, and the hearty applause with which it was greeted was thoroughly well merited. Considerable regret was expressed that the company’s season was limited to one night.’’
Palmerston North settled down again to its day-to-day business.
Local newspaper topics of the day included shopkeepers having a newly instituted half-day off once a week; the Government was discussing afforestation and conserving state forests; and overseas it was reported Lenin had had a ‘‘complete nervous breakdown’’ after an attempt on his life.
Meanwhile, back in England, Robert Courtneidge returned to producing provincial theatrical tours, became the lessee of the Savoy Theatre in London’s West End, and campaigned for fair wages and working conditions for actors. Cicely Courtneidge and Jack Hulbert became established stage stars and, after a manager mishandled their funds, would discover in the 1930s that they could make more money in films than on the stage. They would work in both.
Their success was a far cry from Cicely’s early years in music halls, as she would recall in her biography: ‘‘Music hall is the toughest thing in the world. I often used to get the bird and I’ve had pennies thrown at me many a time.’’ But she and Jack would become British entertainment icons and work on well into the 1970s.
Rosaline Courtneidge was a rising star within the Savoy company and in 1925 she married a fellow actor, Peter Haddon. Their wedding, at All Souls Church, was a big event in the theatre world.
Barely a year later, in December 1926, came shock and disbelief. Rosaline was dead, at 23.
She had died, the Times reported: ‘‘In a nursing home a few weeks after the birth of her first baby, a daughter, and following several operations.’’
Her family had sat at her bedside around the clock.
At Rosaline’s interment in Marylebone cemetery, crowds of actors from the Savoy, New, Gaiety and London Hippodrome theatre companies paid their respects.
In 1933, Gainsborough Pictures filmed a black-and-white version of The Man From Toronto.
Today, excerpts from it – snapshots of a vanished past – can be found online.