Category / Entertainment

by Eddie

Caned by Miss Priscilla Verne

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The ladies of the company then met and decided that the man should be chastised.

If you’ve been following the posts here over the last few days, I am prepared to bet that you didn’t guess the direction in which this story would veer:

PERTH, Friday.—An extraordinary scene was witnessed in Howick Street, this afternoon, when Miss Priscilla Verne, the serio-comio singer, who is performing at the Olde Englishe Fayre, publicly chastised a well-known man about town.

It appears that while Miss Verne was singing a song, the man ejaculated an improper remark. Miss Verne took umbrage at this, and called him a “contemptible little cad.”

The ladies of the company then met and decided that the man should be chastised, and a plan to entrap him was arranged.

Miss Verne wrote a notice, signing herself as ‘Alice Chambers,’ saying that she had fallen in love with him, and asking him to meet her at an appointed hour.

He swallowed the bait, and strolled to the meeting place, where Miss Verne met him, and producing the cane, began to publicly chastise him.

A crowd quickly gathered, and hemmed the two in, and before he could escape the man was severely drubbed.

It is probable that the affair will be further ventilated in the police Court.

by Eddie

“I will never be old”

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With a lusty singing voice, sparkling personality, golden hair and a shapely form, Priscilla made a captivating Aladdin.

In 1951, the media remembered that Priscilla Verne was still alive:

This Australian stage star made her first theatrical appearance in 1887, but she has her own method of bridging the years, bringing down the curtain on the ‘eighties with this disarming statement:

“I don’t know how old I am. I don’t want to know. I will never be old, only in years.”

Still in love with life, she walk with a buoyant step and many a younger woman could envy her shapely figure. If variety provides the spice of life this stage career has been highly flavored.

Singing saucy verses set to lively rhythms, Priscilla Verne, at the turn of the century had become the pet of the public and “the Darling of the Gods” (a term applied to the patrons of the gallery).

To capture the big money, this variety artist was forced to forsake her own country. Gold and glamor awaited her in the East. In India she dashed into popularity as principal boy in pantomime, and played at Delhi during the Durbar celebrations arranged in honor of King Edward VII. With a lusty singing voice, sparkling personality, golden hair and a shapely form, Priscilla made a captivating Aladdin.

Then she bobbed up again as lively as ever in 1940 with the Tivoli circuit, a group of veterans presenting the singing and dancing numbers which kept them in the limelight in their younger days. The combined ages of these old timers reached 1000, and if Miss Verne had not been so hazy about her first birthday, the total might have been higher.

Young in mind and still vital, this ‘trouper’ is now toying with the idea of making another comeback in a fresh edition of Veterans in Variety.

by Eddie

The entertainment value of dead babies

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A churchyard and in it a tiny babe’s grave;
An early wrecked vessel on life’s cruel wave.

Yesterday’s post briefly mentioned one of the songs by serio-comic performer Priscilla Verne (who will figure quite prominently here over the coming days).

Since I guess that most people are unfamiliar with the sentimental tripe performed at variety shows in the late Victorian era, offered below for your delight is the final verse and chorus of ‘Their Heads Nestle Closer Together’. See if you can read it without wanting to throw up.

A churchyard and in it a tiny babe’s grave;
 An early wrecked vessel on life’s cruel wave.
Their twelve month old darling, their loved one their all,
 Now gone from this Earth at the Mighty One’s call,
A life of pure sunshine and joy has been theirs,
 With smiling face meeting all trivial cares,
Till all hope was shattered and sped in a breath,
 And life’s sun o’ershadowed by cloud of death.

Chorus: There, in that God’s acre, they stand, he and she,
 The sun veils its head as tho’ in sympathy,
And buried the light of their life seems to be.
 In that grave ‘neath the wild growing heather.
The mother’s tears fall o’er her babe now at rest,
 The man clasps her tight to his sorrow-torn breast;
‘Come, cheer up my darling, ’tis all for the best.’
 And their heads nestle closer together!

by Eddie

The gem of the evening

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Miss Priscilla Verne’s serio-comic effusions were as excellent as of yore, this lady being a deservedly popular performer.

Last evening saw another large crowd at the popular open-air entertainment now being given by Messrs. Jones and Lawrence.

The star of the combination, beyond all question, is Ouda, who skywards, high up in the air, performs some of the most marvellous feats of daring. When it is said that Ouda has no superior, the famous Silbons notwithstanding, we say simply what is true. His flight through space must be seen to be believed.

Miss Priscilla Verne, always a big favourite in the Eastern colonies, has already established her claim to be considered one of the features of this show.

The first appearance of Miss Verne, a clever variety artist who has won considerable fame in other colonies, was greeted with enthusiastic applause, which increased as the singer gained grace in the audience.

The gem of the evening was her song ‘Waiting for the Verdict,’ in which she appeared in character, and her rendering of ‘Their Heads Nestle Closer Together,’ was very artistic, the last of a number of recalls being responded to by a speech, in which she expressed heartfelt gratitude for her splendid reception.

The sister of comedians Joe and Alf Verne, Melbourne-born soubrette Priscilla Verne married minstrel showman Charles Hugo (Hugo’s Buffalo Minstrels) in 1882.

After divorcing her husband in 1892 Verne spent much of the next 15 years overseas working as a solo artist and sometimes touring her own company. In 1909 she formed an act with Nat Phillips’ former partner, Tommy Armstrong.

Verne retired from full-time performing in 1912 following her marriage to politician George Black. She appeared in occasional ‘stars of the past’ shows until at least 1943.

by Eddie

A degenerating and damnable influence

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Truly the animal nature so uppermost in many men finds scope to become aroused at this place of amusement.

Sir,

Following up the letters that have appeared in your valuable paper during the past few days on the disgraceful and unseemly conduct of one of the principal artistes of the Fayre, as enacted in Howick Street, and subsequent upon the many who have expressed themselves as disgusted with the state of things that nightly take place at this carnival, I beg to enter my strong protest against such being carried on in one of our main thoroughfares, right at the very doors of some of the leading residents of our city.

Last evening, in company with a gentleman friend, I visited this place with the object of entering my protest on substantial evidence. I do not hesitate to affirm on the very strongest assumption that such a state of affairs should not be permitted.

No doubt the programme (or portions of it) would be appreciated in the common music halls in the East End of London. The coarse jests emanating during the progress of the songs, which are so suggestive, confirms my conviction that it is not a proper place for respectable men, much less women and girls to attend.

Surely the moral tone of the community is low enough without a ‘company’ inviting the public to participate in its degenerating and damnable influence. Truly the animal nature so uppermost in many men finds scope to become aroused at this place of amusement (?).

I should, indeed, be sorry to know that any acquaintance of mine should attend such a place for the purpose of entertainment or amusement. Amongst the audience were some whose characters would not bear very minute investigation, and the very fact of so many ‘cabs’ awaiting the close is significant.

What benefit, might I ask, accrues to the city from this place? It may fill the pockets of its promoters with unholy gain, but the city and its inhabitants indirectly pay the price.

Yours, J. T. Kevern.
150 Hay Street, December 1, 1896.

by Eddie

Monkey boy and the peculiar pig

Monkey Boy

The centre of attraction in the side shows was the monkey boy who is veritably a human monstrosity or a hideous freak of nature.

14 December 1895. Saturday. With little else to do in Perth, we decided to follow the crowd and do the opening night of Ye Olde Englishe Fayre.

Passing through an elaborately decorated entrance, we saw sideshows, refreshment booths and a stage for the variety performance.

In one tent were waxworks, although you thought they looked rather the worse for wear. The figures of Beach and Searle, those renowned Australian scullers, were melting in the summer heat.

Moving on to the next tent, we sneered at the alleged age of the moth-eaten mummies. 4,000 years old? Really?

The conjoined babies made us linger for a while, though, as did the peculiar pig caged right next to them. The other freaks were good for a laugh although a few made you turn away in disgust.

The centre of attraction in the side shows was the monkey boy who is veritably a human monstrosity or a hideous freak of nature.

I went all giddy and lost a lot on the Razzle Dazzle. The persuasive attendants tempted others to spend money on swinging boats, shooting-galleries, and the inevitable Aunt Sally.

As for the variety show, we thought the acts variable. The Fakir of Oolu—looking uncannily like Charles Sylvester in a turban—worked the disappearing lady trick, but without charisma. Professor Seguy juggled heavy weights with ease and speed.

Pearl Akarman’s appearance as The Living Serpent impressed. But we agreed that contortion feats by a woman are not edifying.

And management has to sort out the crowd. Women and children were rudely pushed and hustled, and neither group should have to listen to such questionable comments as were passed on the performers.