Theatre stages last curtain call

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Fewer shortages, plans for local government upheaval, a mass Bank Holiday exodus and the loss of a greatly loved theatre – the first year of the 1950s brought changing times for local people, as Nicola Rippon reports.

THE year 1950 marked the start of life in Britain returning fully to peacetime normality – a year when thoughts could turn to recreation and leisure with the lifting of many restrictions.

First, however, there were serious matters to consider.

The turn of the year saw Derbyshire preparing for a General Election. After Labour’s dramatic sweep to power in the euphoric aftermath of VE-Day, recent economic setbacks had brought unpopularity to a government previously lauded for its introduction of the Welfare State.

The three-year “Groundnut Scheme” to plant vast acreages of peanuts in the Tanganyikan bush had failed spectacularly.

The scheme was intended both to develop a self-sufficient large-scale mechanised agriculture industry in the African colonies, and to provide resources for making soap and margarine for the hungry British market.

It had cost between £35-49m and every penny had been lost. In addition, the Attlee Government had been forced to devalue the pound by 30 per cent. The people of Derbyshire, like those in the rest of Britain, were about to voice their dismay.

The result was unrestrained political debate, with no concerns over voter apathy. To ensure his party had the greatest chance of success, Councillor Alec Ling, of Derby Conservatives, laid on some 40 cars to ferry likely Tory voters from their homes to the polling stations.

In the run-up to the election, the Evening Telegraph’s Derby & Joan column cautioned women to vote for their own choice of candidate. It was a concern echoed by reader Marion Saunders, of Hillsway, Littleover, who wrote to the paper in disgust or, as she described it, “feminine rage” because she had overheard a Derby woman complaining bitterly to a friend about the Government, and then sigh: “But my husband always likes me to vote Labour.”

The appalled Ms Saunders asked: “For heaven’s sake, what sort of spineless lot are we that we have to be told how to vote?”

Throughout election day, February 23, the Derby public looked to the latest edition of the Evening Telegraph for the relative positions of the parties on what, it was feared, would be a close-run thing.

Sure enough, although there were early indications of a comfortable Labour win, by midday it was clear that the final result was unpredictable.

A series of late editions the following day brought news of the narrowing gap; in the Late Final, the lead was 19 seats; in two Extra Special editions it was three and 11 respectively.

By Saturday morning, Labour had a lead of just 10 seats, with another six to declare.

With such a close result, it seemed clear that another General Election would soon follow. However, while Britain as a whole had been divided, there was no such uncertainty in Derbyshire with only two constituencies – those of High Peak and West Derbyshire – favouring Conservatives over Labour.

With Labour returned to power in the county, there were widespread fears that it would not be long before a plan to remove the centre of Derbyshire’s government from Derby itself would be enacted.

On the day before the election, the Labour group on Derbyshire County Council had confirmed plans to move its headquarters to Matlock. The borough and county councils had been at loggerheads over many issues for some time and, with the almost prohibitive estimated cost of building new premises in Derby, the county council, under the leadership of its chairman, Charles White, preferred the more cost-effective option of purchasing the former Smedley’s Hydro, which was more or less ready to move into.

The Evening Telegraph, however, predicted “a storm of protest” at the proposal, particularly from residents of Derby.

Those of Matlock, it seemed likely, would have less to oppose; the proposed relocation was expected to bring both jobs and investment into the town.

As the annual Whitsun holiday approached, the Minister of Fuel and Power, and MP for Derby South, Philip Noel-Baker, announced an end to petrol rationing.

Thanks to two American oil companies, which had each promised to import additional supplies to the UK, Noel-Baker declared: “People will be able to buy petrol without coupons and without regard to whether it is white or red.”

More petrol had been made available to commercial vehicles and had been dyed red to prevent its use by private drivers.

Noel-Baker’s announcement meant that, for the first time in many years, those lucky enough to own a car could make the most of the pleasant weather forecast for the Bank Holiday, without worrying about how much petrol they used.

In the north of the county, hotels reported a sudden rush of customers. Garage owners, busy since the announcement, reported brisk trade, although plentiful supplies prevented long queues from forming.

Employees at one Derby garage celebrated the end of petrol rationing by bringing out the bunting and flags last seen on VJ Day.

Thousands of Derby folk left the town that day, most bound by car, coach and train for the Peak or the coast. Trains bound for Matlock and Darley Dale were delayed to allow all those queuing in the booking hall to climb aboard, while Derby Bus Station reported large queues for the coaches bound for Skegness, Bridlington, Liverpool and the race meetings at Doncaster and Birmingham.

In Derby itself, locals enjoyed the newly-installed miniature railway at Markeaton Park and the concerts in Darley, Markeaton and Normanton Parks. The star turn, however, was the performance by the famed Black Dyke Mills Band at the Arboretum.

By the time the next Bank Holiday arrived, on August 7, although there was again a mass exodus from the towns, Britons were becoming used to the novelty of ration-free travel.

One Derbyshire man, Darley Dale lead mine director William Smith, renounced motor transport entirely, taking his family on their holiday to Norfolk in his yellow and black stagecoach, pulled by four grey horses. “Car for business, but coach and four for pleasure,” declared Mr Smith.

It took three and a half days to cover the 150-mile journey at a steady 7mph, but Mr Smith took no chances – included in his party of 11 was blacksmith George Redfern.

December would mark the last performances at the Grand Theatre on Derby’s Babington Lane. Opened in 1886 by impresario Andrew Melville, the original theatre had burned down just six weeks later.

But it had been rebuilt, bigger and better, in a matter of months. For 64 years the Grand had staged a wide variety of entertainment and played host to some of the biggest names in British entertainment.

In 1901, the famous actress, renowned beauty and mistress of the Prince of Wales, Lillie Langtry, performed there. She was some years past her heyday, and had long been replaced in the affections of the new King Edward VIII, but she was still a famous name.

In 1922, Ivor Novello, by then an established film star, appeared in The Rat. During the Second World War, many stars, like John Gielgud and Peggy Ashcroft, Anna Neagle and Vivian Leigh, performed in plays that were about to be debuted in London’s West End.

As well as dramas, comedies and musicals, variety shows and revues were also staged at the Grand Theatre. Arthur Askey and Vera Lynn were among stars featured; Max Bygraves made his revue debut at the Grand; and Frankie Howerd appeared well down the bill, returning at a later date as the star of the show.

Ice shows, water shows and circuses had also been held at the Grand.

Despite a substantial redecoration in 1948, the limitations of an old theatre were beginning to tell. There was no way of expanding the Grand’s seating capacity, while little could be done to improve general facilities.

And the post-war shortage of building materials ruled out erecting a new theatre from scratch.

The nearby Hippodrome, on Green Lane, became a target for the Grand’s proprietor, Prince Littler. Built in 1914 as a Music Hall and Palace of Varieties, the Hippodrome was now being used as a cinema by J Arthur Rank’s Circuits Management Association Ltd.

Under the agreement that the Hippodrome would not be used as a cinema, Rank agreed to sell the venue to Littler.

But while Derby’s theatre patrons might have rubbed their hands together at the prospect of two theatres in the town, Littler had other ideas.

He was keen to sell the Grand, but not at the risk of damaging his own trade. Just as the Rank organisation did not want the Hippodrome used to show films, so whoever bought the Grand had to guarantee that it would no longer be used as a theatre.

With the Hippodrome set to open on December 23, the Grand closed on the 9th of that month, to allow time for stage equipment to be transferred the short distance from Babington Lane to Green Lane.

The final company to appear at the Grand were the Ballet Rambert. Their last-night performances of Les Sylphides and Peter and the Wolf were played to a packed house. Demand for tickets was so high that there were two potential customers for each seat.

In the third interval, the Mayor of Derby, Alderman Matthew Lowe, addressed the audience, recalling his own memories of the theatre.

After the final curtain, the Ballet Rambert’s dancer and choreographer, David Paltenghi, made a speech and asked the audience to join him in a rousing, and emotional, rendition of Auld Lang Syne.

As Derby’s Grand Theatre bid farewell to its last patrons, no new owner had been found and the venue looked set to stand empty for some time to come.