Ellaline Terriss as the Duc de Richelieu in The Dashing Little Duke, Hicks Theatre, London, 1909

two postcard photographs of Ellaline Terriss (1871-1971), English actress and singer, star of musical comedy
(photos: Foulsham & Banfield, London, 1909)

These two postcards, serial nos. 11509 F and 11530 A in the Rotary Photographic Series, published in London during 1909 by the Rotary Photographic Co Ltd, show Ellaline Terriss (left) as she appeared as the Duc de Richelieu in the musical play, The Dashing Little Duke, by Miss Terriss’s husband, Seymour Hicks, with lyrics by Ardian Ross and music by Frank E. Tours. The production, the cast of which also included Hayden Coffin, Courtice Pounds, Elizabeth Firth and Coralie Blythe, opened at the Hicks Theatre (now the Gielgud), London, on 17 February 1909 following an out of town trial at the Theatre Royal, Nottingham. It ran for a disappointing 95 performances. The postcard on the right shows Miss Terriss in private life with a ‘Duc de Richelieu’ doll.

Viva Birkett, English actress, circa 1907

Viva Birkett (Mrs Philip Merivale, 1887-1934), English actress
(photo: Dover Street Studios, London, circa 1907; postcard published by the Rotary Photographic Co., London, Rotary Photographic Series, no. 4863A, circa 1907)

Grace Palotta, Minnie Tittell Brune and Nellie Stewart

‘Greetings from Australia’, Rotary postcard 5330B, with photographs of
Grace Palotta, Minnie Tittell Brune and Nellie Stewart
(photos: various, the majority London, 1905 and circa)

This real photograph postcard, no. 5330B in the Rotary Photographic Series by the Rotary Photographic Co Ltd of London, was produced for export to Australia about 1907. This example has been decorated with tinsel and is hand tinted. The three main portraits are of actresses well known to Australian audiences: Grace Palotta (daughter of Charles Palotta and his wife Emma, née Kleinhenn; 1867?-1959), Australian by birth but of Viennese ancestry, who became popular in musical comedy in the 1890s and early 20th Century in London and on tour in Australia; Minnie Tittell Brune (b.1883), American actress who toured Australasia between 1904 and 1909 and was also active in the United States and the United Kingdom; and Nellie Stewart (1858-1931), the most popular of all native born Australian actresses, who also appeared in the United States and the United Kingdom. The other photographs are stock images of various actresses, singers and dancers, including Lily Elsie, Vesta Tilley, Marie Studholme, Dorothy Frostick, Phyllis and Zena Dare, Gertie Millar, Gabrielle Ray, Daisy Jerome, Mabel Love, Billie Burke and Camille Clifford. Other examples of this card are to be found in the National Library of Australia ( 1) and (2).

Maudi Darrell and George Graves in The Belle of Britanny

Maudi Darrell (1882-1920) as Toinette and George Graves (1876-1949) as the Marquis de St. Gautier in The Belle of Britanny, Queen’s Theatre, London, 24 October 1908
(photo: Foulsham & Banfield, London, 1908)

This real photograph postcard, no. 7444B in the Rotary Photographic Series published in 19087 by the Rotary Photographic Co Ltd of London, shows Maudi Darrell as Toinette and George Graves as the Marquis de St. Gautier in the comic opera The Belle of Britanny, which was produced at the Queen’s Theatre, London, on 24 October 1908. The piece was written by Leedham Bantock and P.J. Barrow, with lyrics by Percy Greenbank and music by Howard Talbot and Marie Horne. Other members of the cast included Lawrence Rea, Davy Burnaby, E.W. Royce senior, Walter Passmore, Lily Iris (replaced during the run successively by May Hackney and Millie Legarde), Maud Boyd, Blanche Stocker, Minnie Baker, Gladys Saqui and Ruth Vincent. The production ran for 147 performances.

An American production of The Belle of Britanny opened at Daly’s Theatre, New York, on 8 November 1909, in which Toinette was played by Elsa Ryan and de St. Gautier by Frank Daniels.

Lily Brayton and Oscar Asche in Atilla

Lily Brayton (1876-1953) as Ildico and Oscar Asche (1871-1936) as Atilla in Laurence Binyon’s poetical tragedy Atilla, produced at His Majesty’s Theatre, London, on 4 September 1907
(photo: Daily Mirror Studios, London, 1907)

This real photograph postcard, no. 4030 O in the Rotary Photographic Series, issued in 1907 by The Rotary Photographic Co of London, shows Lily Brayton and Oscar Asche in the leading roles of Atilla, Laurence Binyon’s four act poetical tragedy, which was sumptuously produced at His Majesty’s Theatre, London, on 4 September 1907. Although Asche subsequently took Atilla on tour it was among the least successful of his productions, the original run having survived for only 32 performances. Other members of the cast included Godfrey Tearle, J. Fisher White, R. Ian Penny, Gordon Harker, Mary Rorke and Irene Rooke.

Ellaline Terriss, Seymour Hicks and Baby Betty

Actresseses photographed with their children.

Seymour Hicks (1871-1949) and his wife, Ellaline Terriss (1871-1971) and their daughter Betty (b. 1907), who was widely known as ‘Baby Betty’ and later professionally as Betty Seymour Hicks.
Postcard 4051 B in the Rotary Photographic Series, published in 1908 by the Rotary Photographic Co Ltd, London.
(photo: Foulsham & Banfield, London, 1908)

‘London, Sept. 21 [1910].
‘The latest fashion among English actresses is to be photographed with their children. The family life of English theatrical people has always been of interest to the British public, and the new postcards and photographs of actresses holding their children in their arms or on their knees have sold better than any other pictures of the same gifted yet domesticated ladies.

Muriel Beaumont (Mrs Gerald Du Maurier, 1881-1957) and two of her daughters, Angela (1904-2002) and Daphne (1907-1989), both of whom became well known writers.
Postcard E 1927, published by the Aristophot Co Ltd, London, 1908.
(photo: Rita Martin, London, 1908)

‘It seems to please theatregoers to know that the leading lady of the company is in private life a good mother and excellent housewife, and they give her an extra round of applause for these qualities. Middle-class England does not believe in the artistic temperament, and any little idiosyncrasies in the private affairs of actresses meet with disapproval. Domesticity is the drawing card. the knowledge that a stage favorite is comfortably settled in her own home with a devoted husband and one or two future actors learning their lessons at her knee is unction to the British matron’s soul.
‘Mr. and Mrs. Seymour Hicks lead in public favor as examples of domestic theatrical life. The public knows their ménage intimately, and takes a tremendous interest in Baby Betty, the little daughter of the household. Both Mr. Hicks and his wife, Ellaline Terriss, take the audience into their confidence, and in the course of a musical comedy they have been known to mention Baby Betty and the stage of her health or the fact that she sent her love to everybody, and such announcements are received with cheers of delight.
‘Betty once wrote an ode which was published. She is just 5 now. If no news of the child is forthcoming admirers have been known to call out from the depths of the pit and inquire for the latest news. Naturally, Mr. and Mrs. Hicks have been photographed with Betty countless times, and their pictures in plush frames adorn many British homes.
‘Mr. and Mrs. Gerald du Maurier are another couple in whom great interest is taken. On the stage Mrs. du Maurier is Miss Muriel Beaumont. She rarely acts now, as home interests are engrossing. Her little daughter Angela is 4, and promises to be a real Du Maurier in appearance as well as in ways. she has not yet any stage aspirations.

Isabel Jay (Mrs Henry Sheppard Hart Cavendish, 1879-1927) and her daughter Cecilia Claribel (1903 – 1963) in their Spyker car.
Postcard 4846B in the Rotary Photographic Series, published about 1907 by the Rotary Photographic Co Ltd, London.
(photo: Foulsham & Banfield, London, circa 1907)

‘Mr. and Mrs. Fred Terry, who are soon to appear in America, are very proud of their tall daughter, who has just made her debut in Priscilla Runs Away. She calls herself Miss Neilson-Terry, but is known to her intimates as Phillida. Though she is taller than her mother, and very well developed, she is only 17. She is very pretty. At present the post card shops are filled with a variety of pictures of the Fred Terry family.
‘Miss Maie Ash, who married Stanley Brett, a brother of Seymour Hicks, a year or so ago, is the proud mother of a very recent baby and she has lost no time in being pictured with her little son. Miss Ash was one of the prettiest of the pretty girls in Mr. Hicks’ company, and was a musical comedy favorite. Just now she is playing a sketch with her husband.
‘Miss Eva Moore, who is Mrs. H. Esmond in private life, has two children, and is a devoted mother. Her stage career takes her from her family a good deal, as she is in demand to create parts in her husband’s plays as well as others, but she has her children with her all she can. The Moore family of girls, five of them, is a type of a theatrical family often found in England. Every Miss Moore went on the stage when she arrived at years of discretion, and two of them, Miss Eva and Miss Decima Moore have become successful actresses.
‘Miss Violet Vanbrugh and her husband, Arthur Bourchier, are having a difficult time to persuade their daughter Prudence that 12 is not the proper age to begin a stage career. Prudence has had dramatic aspirations since she was little more than a baby, and Mr. Bourchier confesses that before long she is likely to get her way and appear at his theater in a Christmas play.
‘Mr. and Mrs. Cyril Maude are another couple in whom the public is interested here, and though their one child, Winifred, is seldom seen on post cards or photographs, her clever sayings and doings are well known, and her debut is looked forward to.
‘Miss Nancy Price, who for years has played adventuress parts in risky French gowns and red wigs, is really, to the joy of her audiences, a model wife and mother. She, too, has a small daughter, who is kept carefully from the glare of the footlights out in the suburban home where Miss Price makes her way after the fatigues of Drury Lane performances.

Ellaline Terriss and her daughter ‘Baby Betty.’
Postcard 11706 C in the Rotary Photographic Series, published in 1911 by the Rotary Photographic Co Ltd, London.
(photo: Foulsham & Banfield, London, 1911)

‘Mrs. G.P. Huntley’s small boy [Timothy] has seen his father act very often, but not his mother, as for the last few years she [Eva Kelly] has seldom appeared on the stage.
‘Mr. and Mrs. H.B. Irving have a daughter very like her mother [Dorothea Baird], with silky flaxen hair and blue eyes. She dances prettily, and can recite yards of poetry.
‘Mrs. Kendal, who used to be regarded as an example of theatrical motherhood, seems to have dropped out in recent years. One sees no pictures of her with her children, who are grown now.
‘Miss Ellen Terry is probably the most devoted mother in the theatrical world, yet she is never pictured with her son or daughter. She has never figures before the public in the role of mother, but those who know say that her devotion to her children [Edward Gordon Craig, and Edith Craig] is the greatest thing in her life. She has started both of them several times in various careers in which they wished to embark, and she is always the kind friend to whom they go in their difficulties. to see Miss Terry and Miss Edith Craig, her daughter together is to realize the strong bond between them.
‘Miss Annie Hughes, whose forte is playing the part of catty, sneaky, little ladies of the Country Mouse variety, has a son, who is her special joy and pride.’
(The Washington Post, Washington, D.C., Sunday, 2 October 1910, Miscellany Section, p.10b-g)

Bertram Wallis

a Rotary Photographic Co Ltd real photograph postcard (Rotary Photographic Series no. 2387 O) of
Bertram Wallis (1874-1952), English actor and singer, as Conrad Petersen
in Paul Rubens’s ‘Danish Musical Incident,’ Dear Little Denmark,
which was produced at the Prince of Wales’s Theatre, London, on 1 September 1909.
Mr Wallis’s leading lady in this production was Isabel Jay.
(photo: Foulsham & Banfield, London, 1909)

Phyllis Dare (1890-1975), English actress and singer, star of musical comedy,
as she appeared in The Dairymaids
(photo: Foulsham & Banfield, London, probably 1907)

‘FAIR PHYLLIS
‘She May Have Eloped With a Pinfeather Nobleman.
‘Special Correspondence.
‘LONDON, March 10 [1908]. – The mysterious disappearance of Phyllis Dare, England’s most beautiful and most photographed actress, has given rise to the rumor that she has eloped with Lord Dalmeny, Lord Rosebery’s son. The young man, heir to a fortune of $15,000,000 was sent to Scotland recently because of his mad infatuation for the actress. He is only twenty-three.
‘Miss Dare had been playing in Birmingham and left without a word of explanation even for her manager.’
(The Fort Wayne News, Tuesday, 8 March 1908, section, p.4c)

Marie Studholme (1875-1930)
English musical comedy actress
and postcard beauty, in The Geisha
(photo: Langfier, Glasgow, late 1890s)

This real photograph postcard, a ‘Midget Post Card’ in the Rotary Photographic Co Ltd’s Rotary Photographic Series (no. 6865i), published about 1902 or 1903, shows Marie Studholme as she appeared in The Geisha, first produced at Daly’s Theatre, London, on 25 April 1896. This highly successful musical play by Owen Hall, with lyrics by Harry Greenbank and music by Sidney Jones, ran in London for 760 performances. Although Miss Studholme is said to have understudied Letty Lind as Molly Seamore in this production (The Green Room Book, 1909), the fact that this photograph was taken by Langfier in Glasgow suggests that she was in the cast of one of several touring versions of The Geisha that criss-crossed the United Kingdom during the late 1890s.

Marie Studholme was again seen as Molly Seamore in the revival of The Geisha at Daly’s, London, on 18 June 1906. The cast also included May de Sousa.

Gertie Millar (1879-1952),
English musical comedy star,
interviewed by New York drama critic,
Alan Dale (1861-1928), London, 1911
(photo: Foulsham & Banfield, London, circa 1908)

”’GERTIE MILLAR SIGHS FOR SOMETHING NEW” – Says Alan Dale.
”’It is possible for a Gaiety girl to own all the Gaiety requirements and yet be able to throw plates and break glasses in moments of festive indignation.”
‘By Alan Dale.
‘The George Edwardes Girl is not necessarily a beautiful, pleasurable mollusc. Don’t believe it for a solitary moment. Perhaps the most memorable and pictorially interesting of the Gaiety sirens have been the placidly lovely damsels who have ”married into the peerage.” But – there are others. It is possible, though not at all unusual, to be a George Edwardes Girl with a ”temperament.” By that I mean that it is possible for a girl to own all the Gaiety requirements and yet be able to throw plates and break glasses in moments of festive indignation.
‘I always thought that Miss Gertie Millar had a certain ”temperament” of her own. Slim, willowy, with flashing eyes, and very red lips (I didn’t say very ”reddened” lips), Miss Millar appealed to me as a personality rather than a beauty. In New York she had very little chance. She was one of the Girls of Gottenberg, and they were not at all skittish. In London, of course, she can do what she likes, and I fancy that she does it.
‘It was after witnessing a very curious incident at the Adelphi Theatre, where I went to see Miss Millar in The Quaker Girl, that I asked her to ”chat” with me.
‘This was the incident: It was the night of the Derby and London was conventionally demoralized. Mr Joseph Coyne, who plays ”lead” in The Quaker Girl, did not appear at all in the cast. His place was taken by an understudy. Miss Millar came on in due-est course, and sang her opening song, prettily enough. As far as I could make out from the front, Coyne’s understudy seemed to ”get on her nerves.” At any rate, after having sung her first song, she never appeared again that night. An understudy finished the performance for her. Nothing was explained. I could imagine her ”throwing things.” It pleased me to believe that here at last was a London favorite with ”nerves,” and so overjoyed was I at the discover that I begged Miss Millar to ”receive” me.
‘And so I went to the Adelphi Theatre to meet her at home, in her dressing-room. I’ve come to the slow conclusion that the dressing-room is the very best place in the world in which to meet actor-ladies. It beats the suburban flat, the stereotyped hotel or the lonely diggings in which the stage lady attempts to pretend that she is not. Real? Who wants reality? If she were real I should not want to be chatting with her. It is because she isn’t real that she is interesting. Therefore, I say, ‘Rah for the dressing-room!

Gertie Millar as Prudence in The Quaker Girl,
Adelphi Theatre, London, 5 November 1910
(photo: Rita Martin, London, 1910;
postcard published by Rotary Photographic Co, London,
Rotary Photographic Series, no. 11749 B)

‘Miss Gertie Millar’s star-chamber was most comfortable and alluring. I’ll say one thing for London theatres, and it is that they don’t ”stye” their artists, as is often the case in New York. The London star dressing-room is commodious, even ”elegant,” and it has repose – like everything in London. It is restful, not suggestive of hustle, and it is, furthermore, picturesque. Miss Millar had just pirouetted from the stage when I was ushered in. The act was over. She had quite a long wait, and as she greeted me she allowed a gracious smile to illumine her thin features.
‘Very thin is Gertie Millar. Her movements are quick, electric and vivacious. Her dark eyes fix you and scintillate as she talks. She isn’t a bit like the usual London favorite. It dawned upon me that it would be seemly and pious to appear deferential. After all, I have to do a bit of acting myself on these hectic occasions, and by dint of long practice I have become a tolerably successful actor.
”’I used to read you every day when I was in New York,” she said, ”so I know all about you, and you can consider yourself introduced.”
‘Of course, that was very graceful. If I had been ten years younger I should have been flattered. Most scribbling fledglings like to be told by pretty girls that they have been ”read.” I fancy I used to like it myself, once upon a time. Now, alas! it cuts no ice. When an actress tells me that she ”reads” me, it sounds like a platitude – a mere substitute for ”We’re having fine weather,” or ”We’re not having fine weather.”
”’You recall New York to me,” she continued with a plaintive sigh. ”And I loved it. Oh, I had a lovely time in New York, and I want to go back.”
‘I was sorry for this conventionality and felt it my duty to nip it in the bud. The day was long since passed when ”I love dear America” had the slightest interest for anybody. And as for dear America, it got tired of being loved at least a quarter of a century ago.
”’You are so much on the alert,” she continued, piling on the agony, ”and you have such delightful ingenues and soubrettes. Here in London nothing new happens and no new favorite occurs. It is really dreadful. Personally, I should welcome the advent of new blood. It inspires competition, and it is healthy. But year in and year out we have the same people. I look around everywhere for some new personality. This is nobody.”
‘This sounded awfully good. Miss Millar’s eyes flashed. I wondered what she was ”getting at.” For a star to complain that there was nobody to vie with her seemed ominous. I was puzzled.
”’You wouldn’t like” – I began.
”’But I should,” she said most energetically. ”Indeed, I should. Why, the other night, when that little girl played my part, I was really delighted. I had given her a chance, and I fancy that she made good.”
‘Miss Millar looked at me steadily. My face, I believe, was immobile. I’ve never yet met a stage lady who liked a successful understudy. In fact, I’ve known many stage ladies who have recovered from the acutest forms of nervous prostration as soon as they head of their understudies’ pleasing success. Of course, I didn’t say this.
”’You were very angry that night when you didn’t go on,” I suggested.
‘Miss Millar looked pained – not angry, but grieved. ”Not at all,” she said. ”I was feeling very ill indeed. I simply couldn’t face the situation. I felt I should collapse, so I withdrew. It was annoying, but I couldn’t help it.”
‘I was hoping for something more sensational. I should have known better. Yet I could still see ”temperament” in the dark pool of her eyes, and I liked her. I liked her very much better than the soft, pretty, clamlike little ladies, who cling and look helpless.
”’You mustn’t imagine,” said Miss Millar, ”that because my husband, Lionel Monckton, writes all the music for me that I can’t sing anybody else’s. That would be quite wrong. I appeared in The Waltz Dream [sic], and honestly enjoyed it immensely. It was quite a relief singing somebody else’s music. And that lovely music!”
‘but Mr. Monckton’s music is delicious,” I suggested.
”’Oh, he is very clever,” said Mrs Gertie Millar-Monckton, ”and, of course, he understands me. He ought to do so, don’t you think?” (She laughed rather amusingly.) ”He knows the sort of thing that I ought to song, and he tried to fit me, and if he doesn’t fit I shall tell him so. I do not stand upon any ceremony with him.”
‘I could believe it. I could almost hear Monckton curtain-lectures on the subject of songs, seemly and otherwise.
”’It would be very foolish of me if I sang songs that I didn’t like, just because my husband, Mr. Monckton, wrote them. Wouldn’t it? Why, only the other day he gave me a new ditty to introduce into The Quaker Girl, and I wouldn’t introduce it. I didn’t like it, and I told him so.”
‘Miss Millar said this very emphatically and made a charming little grimace into the bargain. In that grimace I saw more ”temperament.” I could even hear clair-audiently such phrases as ”I won’t sing that, you pie-face!” I believe in clair-audience.
”’Mr. Monckton studies me, of course,” said said, ”and he can usually gauge my qualities. I never took singing lessons in my life, and I never studies dancing. I can’t understand why I am considered a dancer, because I really do nothing. I just jig to the rhythm of the music. I don’t consider that there is any art in it. I love dancing, and I adore watching it, but I don’t admire my own at all.”
”’Suppose somebody possibly new did occur in London,” I queried, reverting to her own theme, ”wouldn’t you feel just a little tiny bit vexed?”
”’Not at all,” she said. ”I am tired of it all, anyway. I’ve been at work now for a very long time without any holiday worth speaking of. I am tired and I’d like to settle down.”

Gertie Millar as Lallie in The New Aladdin,
the part originally played by Lily Elsie when that production opened
at the Gaiety Theatre, London, on 29 September 1906
(photo: Foulsham & Banfield, London, 1907)

”’Settle down!” I was aghast.
”’Yes, settle down,” she declared. ”Don’t look so surprised. Is it so extraordinary?”
”’You’d like to be a domesticated married woman and sit by the fire and tat?”
‘There was horror in my voice – very well managed horror, I flatter myself.
”’Oh, I didn’t say that,” quoth Gertie Millar, amused. ”I made no such statement. I merely said that I wast ired and that I’d like to settle down, and I mean it. One can get enough and I have no more illusions. I’ve been with Mr. Edwardes for a long time. I’ve played many parts. I’ve seen my understudies blossom forth. Miss Gabrielle Ray was my understudy, and she is doing very nicely. Miss Lily Elsie, though not exactly my understudy, was engaged to play my part [Lally in The New Aladdin] for a certain time. What is there left for me? As I said, there is nobody new. Nothing happens. I don’t know what will become of me later on. It is quite serious.”
‘I looked at her and liked her some more. She wasn’t a bit satisfied, and yet she has every reason to be. With the most musical husband in London and the most discerning manager in the world, Miss Gertie Millar’s lot in life would seem enviable. Still, musical comedy must grate. It is, in good sooth, gritty. I didn’t want to butt in and suggest to Miss Millar that with her temperament (that’s about the s’teenth time I’ve used that revolting word) she might aim higher. What’s the use of sowing the seeds of discontent? Moreover, Miss Millar, who is anything but a fool, has probably thought that matter out for herself, very carefully, and perhaps much more logically that I can think it out. But she is the first established musical comedy girl who has ever repined or seemed to repine, at her eminently successful career. So I think she is distinctly worth emphasizing, don’t you?
”’But I must do America again,” she continued. ”I didn’t have enough of it. I only played New York. I was anxious to go to Philadelphia, but Mr. [Charles] Frohman wouldn’t let me. I’ve heard a lot about your one-night stands.”,br> ”’Philadelphia is not a one-night stand,” said I, though I hold no brief for Philadelphia.
”’No?” she ventured, gently interrogative. ”Oh, I know that, of course. But I wanted to travel in America and see the country, for New York inspired me. I don’t find much difference between a New York and London audience. It seems to me that they are very much akin. When they like anybody in New York they are just as enthusiastic as they are in London. But I wouldn’t like to appear in New York in The Quaker Girl. I don’t think it is my best part by any means. It is to be done in New York, but not with me. When I return I want something better for the Americans. I have heaps of friends in American. Will you give my love to them?”
‘Wasn’t that cute? Of course, I promised I would, and I will. All friends of Miss Gertie Millar, in U.S.A., please accept her love. I shan’t bring it back with me because I might have to pay duty on it (love, being a sort of present, is not admitted free of duty at the Customs House), so I enclose it herewith, and those who receive it will kindly acknowledge it to Miss Gertie Millar, Adelphi Theatre, Strand, London, England.
”’You won’t settle down before you go to America?” I asked anxiously.
‘She laughed. ”You take me so seriously,” she said. ”I’m just tired, that’s all, and I feel I’d like to settle down. I don’t say that I shall, but that I’d like to.”
‘Which seems like a distinction without a difference, for what lovely woman likes she generally does. Just the same, between you, me and the bedpost. I don’t think for a moment that Miss Gertie Millar wants to retire. Therefore, she won’t.’
(San Antonio Light, San Antonio, Texas, Sunday, 9 July 1911, supplement)