samesizedfeet
20-07-10, 01:44
Can anyone find anything else about this theatrical superstition?
The George Hodson mentioned is mine (although this is the first time I've come across this story) so I have loads of information on him but I can't pinpoint Harry Wragg/Ragg to narrow down the dates.
Oh, and the theatre was actually The Bower Saloon and it was in Lambeth. Although knowing that's not really helping me find anything either.
(sorry it's so long)
Comic Song That Was Surely Very "Funny"
Worst "Hoodoo" in History Of British Stage
ACTOR music-hall artists, circus troupers—in fact, all whose business it is to amuse the public in return for a living, are, and always have been, extremely superstitious.
THIS is probably due to the precariousness of their profession, and to the fact that "luck" always plays so large a part in the fate of almost any show. So it is not surprising that there are such a number of stories and legends about theatres, plays, and songs, which are 'either luck-bringers or luck stealers. Even to-day, when so many of the old superstitions of the stage are forgotten, the actor who sings "I Dreamt That I Dwelt in Marble Halls" within the conines of a theatre is always liable to get sack," and the one who ventures to whistle "back-stage" is fairly certain of a severe reprimand. Both these are said to be fatal to any production.
There is at least one curious case on record on the old music-hall stage of what would to-day be called a "hoodoo-song." In the year 1837 a certain Phil Philips, a clever scenic artist attached to the Surrey Lyceum, and other theatres, built an annexe to the "Duke's Tavern" in Stangate Street, Lambeth. This was in the form of a saloon, in which both theatrical and variety performances were given, and it became known as the "Bowyer Saloon."
At one time it was run with consider able success as a drama-house by George Hodson, an Irish comedian, who was the founder of a quite large theatrical family, the best known of whom was probably Henrietta Hodson, who is said to have been born in an improvised bed in the pit of the old Bowyer. and who afterwards achieved a considerable reputation as an actress. She eventually became the wife of Labouchere. the great Journalist. She was the grand-daughter of Hodson.
Employed at the Bowyer by Hodson was a young man of more versatility than means. Harry Wragg (or, possibly. Ragg) He used to make a meagre living by writing all sorts of stuff for the Bowyer shows comic songs. topical ballads, love lyrics, extra-dialogue, and sometimes whole scenes or complete farces.
Cursed by a Woman
It was this young man who was responsible for the creation of one of the most malignant "hoodoo-songs" in the history of the stage. The first scene in the drama is described in a letter addressed by him to a friend in Birmingham:—
". . . Had quite an adventure the other night. Heading for my lodgings in Wych Street, after a rather lively evening. I heard a strange caterwauling, and discovered it emanated from a drunken trollop who was sitting in the gutter, rocking herself to and fro, and singing a sort of ditty in a terribly whin ing voice. "She asked me to give her a shilling, and I answered I would give her two if she would sing me the ballad right through; for it struck me as having great possibilities as a comic song for George Hodson. So I sat on the kerb while she did her best with it. and though she was too soused to be very articulate, I man aged to make enough notes to form the skele ton of a ditty. " But the joke was that I found I had only a shilling in my pocket, and when I gave her that she cursed me in the most comprehensible way imaginable. If half what she wished me comes true I shall shortly be in a parlous state!"
Whether It was due to the woman's curse or not, the fact remains the song seems to have been singularly ill-omened. For reasons which will be shown, the song itself has vanished from record and memory, but it appears to have been a humorous ballad of a somewhat coarse nature. Wragg completed his song, and took an early opportunity of playing it over and singing it on the stage of the Bowyer one night after the show. He wanted Hodson to hear it. but Hodson had some other business on and so could not wait. Two of his assistants, however, listened to it, and voted it a good song, and likely to he successful.
Wragg left the theatre in high spirits, and seems to have absorbed some more at a local hostelry, for on his way home to Wych Street, near Drury Lane, he some how contrived to get into the Thames, from which his body was recovered several days later!
Of the two men who had listened to the song, one contracted an attack of measles, which left him with defective eyesight for the rest of his life, and the other slipped under a dray and suffered a broken leg— these misfortunes occurring within 48 hours of hearing the song.
When the body of poor Wragg was recovered from the muddy river, the manu script copy of the song was in his pocket. This came into the possession of Hodson, who decided it was good, and gave it to a comedian to work into a show then rehearsing at the Bowyer. The first time it was sung right through at rehearsal the comedian went home to find that his wife had died of a heart stroke. He was so upset that he relinquished his part at the Bowyer, which was handed to another comedian—and so was the song!
This second comedian, as it turned out. was not robust. After singing the song for the first time at rehearsal, he con tracted a bad chill. But being poor and in need of the salary, he insisted on at tending rehearsals. At the following re hearsal the song was not sung, but at the next one he sang it right through again, although so huskily that his voice could hardly be heard. The next day he was much worse, but still managed to keep going. Then came the dress-rehearsal, and once more the comedian sang the song right through—this time in a much better voice. But, within ten minutes of singing it he collapsed on the stage with a sudden haemorrhage, and was taken to hospital, from which he did not emerge alive.
That same night a fire occurred at the back of the stage at the Bowyer, and did sufficient damage before it was extinguished to make production of the play impossible for at least a week, thereby costing George Hodson a lot of money. Then some one suggested to George that the song was unlucky, and retailed a list of the misfortunes which had happened to those who sang it and those who listened to it. George Hodson investigated, and found that almost every one who had attended the rehearsals at which the song had been sung had almost immediately afterwards suffered some kind of minor misfortune. "Well, from what I can see of It," said George, this song has killed three people and caused a crowd of others a lot of trouble. I think we'll put it where it'll be safe!" There was something very "funny" about that song. So he proceeded to burn both the water stained original and the single copy that had been made from it. together with the band-parts that had been-prepared for the orchestra.
The George Hodson mentioned is mine (although this is the first time I've come across this story) so I have loads of information on him but I can't pinpoint Harry Wragg/Ragg to narrow down the dates.
Oh, and the theatre was actually The Bower Saloon and it was in Lambeth. Although knowing that's not really helping me find anything either.
(sorry it's so long)
Comic Song That Was Surely Very "Funny"
Worst "Hoodoo" in History Of British Stage
ACTOR music-hall artists, circus troupers—in fact, all whose business it is to amuse the public in return for a living, are, and always have been, extremely superstitious.
THIS is probably due to the precariousness of their profession, and to the fact that "luck" always plays so large a part in the fate of almost any show. So it is not surprising that there are such a number of stories and legends about theatres, plays, and songs, which are 'either luck-bringers or luck stealers. Even to-day, when so many of the old superstitions of the stage are forgotten, the actor who sings "I Dreamt That I Dwelt in Marble Halls" within the conines of a theatre is always liable to get sack," and the one who ventures to whistle "back-stage" is fairly certain of a severe reprimand. Both these are said to be fatal to any production.
There is at least one curious case on record on the old music-hall stage of what would to-day be called a "hoodoo-song." In the year 1837 a certain Phil Philips, a clever scenic artist attached to the Surrey Lyceum, and other theatres, built an annexe to the "Duke's Tavern" in Stangate Street, Lambeth. This was in the form of a saloon, in which both theatrical and variety performances were given, and it became known as the "Bowyer Saloon."
At one time it was run with consider able success as a drama-house by George Hodson, an Irish comedian, who was the founder of a quite large theatrical family, the best known of whom was probably Henrietta Hodson, who is said to have been born in an improvised bed in the pit of the old Bowyer. and who afterwards achieved a considerable reputation as an actress. She eventually became the wife of Labouchere. the great Journalist. She was the grand-daughter of Hodson.
Employed at the Bowyer by Hodson was a young man of more versatility than means. Harry Wragg (or, possibly. Ragg) He used to make a meagre living by writing all sorts of stuff for the Bowyer shows comic songs. topical ballads, love lyrics, extra-dialogue, and sometimes whole scenes or complete farces.
Cursed by a Woman
It was this young man who was responsible for the creation of one of the most malignant "hoodoo-songs" in the history of the stage. The first scene in the drama is described in a letter addressed by him to a friend in Birmingham:—
". . . Had quite an adventure the other night. Heading for my lodgings in Wych Street, after a rather lively evening. I heard a strange caterwauling, and discovered it emanated from a drunken trollop who was sitting in the gutter, rocking herself to and fro, and singing a sort of ditty in a terribly whin ing voice. "She asked me to give her a shilling, and I answered I would give her two if she would sing me the ballad right through; for it struck me as having great possibilities as a comic song for George Hodson. So I sat on the kerb while she did her best with it. and though she was too soused to be very articulate, I man aged to make enough notes to form the skele ton of a ditty. " But the joke was that I found I had only a shilling in my pocket, and when I gave her that she cursed me in the most comprehensible way imaginable. If half what she wished me comes true I shall shortly be in a parlous state!"
Whether It was due to the woman's curse or not, the fact remains the song seems to have been singularly ill-omened. For reasons which will be shown, the song itself has vanished from record and memory, but it appears to have been a humorous ballad of a somewhat coarse nature. Wragg completed his song, and took an early opportunity of playing it over and singing it on the stage of the Bowyer one night after the show. He wanted Hodson to hear it. but Hodson had some other business on and so could not wait. Two of his assistants, however, listened to it, and voted it a good song, and likely to he successful.
Wragg left the theatre in high spirits, and seems to have absorbed some more at a local hostelry, for on his way home to Wych Street, near Drury Lane, he some how contrived to get into the Thames, from which his body was recovered several days later!
Of the two men who had listened to the song, one contracted an attack of measles, which left him with defective eyesight for the rest of his life, and the other slipped under a dray and suffered a broken leg— these misfortunes occurring within 48 hours of hearing the song.
When the body of poor Wragg was recovered from the muddy river, the manu script copy of the song was in his pocket. This came into the possession of Hodson, who decided it was good, and gave it to a comedian to work into a show then rehearsing at the Bowyer. The first time it was sung right through at rehearsal the comedian went home to find that his wife had died of a heart stroke. He was so upset that he relinquished his part at the Bowyer, which was handed to another comedian—and so was the song!
This second comedian, as it turned out. was not robust. After singing the song for the first time at rehearsal, he con tracted a bad chill. But being poor and in need of the salary, he insisted on at tending rehearsals. At the following re hearsal the song was not sung, but at the next one he sang it right through again, although so huskily that his voice could hardly be heard. The next day he was much worse, but still managed to keep going. Then came the dress-rehearsal, and once more the comedian sang the song right through—this time in a much better voice. But, within ten minutes of singing it he collapsed on the stage with a sudden haemorrhage, and was taken to hospital, from which he did not emerge alive.
That same night a fire occurred at the back of the stage at the Bowyer, and did sufficient damage before it was extinguished to make production of the play impossible for at least a week, thereby costing George Hodson a lot of money. Then some one suggested to George that the song was unlucky, and retailed a list of the misfortunes which had happened to those who sang it and those who listened to it. George Hodson investigated, and found that almost every one who had attended the rehearsals at which the song had been sung had almost immediately afterwards suffered some kind of minor misfortune. "Well, from what I can see of It," said George, this song has killed three people and caused a crowd of others a lot of trouble. I think we'll put it where it'll be safe!" There was something very "funny" about that song. So he proceeded to burn both the water stained original and the single copy that had been made from it. together with the band-parts that had been-prepared for the orchestra.