THE BELMONT THEATRE

NINETEEN THIRTY EIGHT might well be called the Gala Year in the history of the Belmont Theatre. Father Christopher McNulty, the newly appointed Head Master, was a man with a genius for an Occasion, and in his Short tenure of office pulled off what can only be described as some shattering pieces of showmanship. This is no Place to examine Father Christopher’s far-reaching influence on the development of the School, but as the Plays Were an integral part of that development, some comment is called for. Among his brethren and, a fortiori, among The boys, Father Christopher became a legend in his own lifetime. The fundamental truth in the legend was that as an organiser he was a man of unfettered imagination: he willingly ignored unpleasant details and cheerfully allowed his mind to roam over the broad scheme of things. He had sufficient faith in his own ideas to put them into practice with the utmost urgency; his bluffs were too big to call, he had all the luck he deserved and any business Tycoon would have been proud of his record.

Doctor Faustus, which was produced for Speech Day in June, 1938, is a good example of his methods. The School had thirty-seven boys; there was no permanent stage, no electricity and the auditorium was a temporary wooden building; Europe was moving inexorably towards war. The War could not be ignored, so Father Christopher chose for his Prize Giver Lord Sempill, a name to conjure with in aviation. (According to Abbot Leonard’s speech, “He set out to conquer the air, and he has done so.”) The play was indeed a play for the times, for the Doctor of Wittenberg had a clear message for his fellow-countryman who was at that time whipping Germany into a nationalist frenzy. The smallness of the School and lack of amenities were ignored by using the natural resources of the place the play was out-of-doors in the lovely setting of the monastery lawns. In Stan Quan and Dom Alphege there were two producers of resource and intelligence to deal with the unwieldy middle-section of the play; and in Michael Oakley there was a young and sensitive actor whose extraordinary talent was ideally suited to the character of Faustus.octor Faustus was performed at the Assumption Convent (Belmont House) on the evening of Wednesday, July 20th, and again, on the following afternoon, for the Prize Giving. Jack Kenny, as Mephistopheles, and Patrick Froude, as Helen, evidently caught the eye and ear, while Mervyn Pelly, Larry O’Sullivan and Patrick O‘Hanlon were the nucleus of a sound supporting cast. But the stage was dominated by Oakley’s Faustus even the newspaper critic seems to have sensed the rare sympathy of this portrayal and no actor could ask for more than this. The play was in rehearsal for four months. The only hitch seems to have come in the casting, when it took some time (and, no doubt, more persuasion) to find the Face That Launched A Thousand Ships.Inspired by the success of Faustus in July, Father Christopher characteristically determined on an even more ambitious plan for the autumn. This was to present Murder in the Cathedral at the Palladium Theatre, Hereford. At this distance it is difficult to sort out the events and ideas of the time the written evidence, in the Magazine and several newspapers, is confusing and, on several important points, downright contradictory. So, what is written here of this much-discussed venture must, to some extent, be tentative.The performances were scheduled for December l5th-l7th, and Father Christopher excelled himself in all directions. The “entire proceeds” of the first night were immediately devoted to the “Bambino Fund of the Hereford General Hospital”, and the remainder to Belmont Abbey School Air Defence Corps Fund, and other Local Charities.” An impressive list of notabilities consented to be Patrons. Robert Speaight (who played Becket in the original production) and Phoebe Waterfield, the Dean of Hereford’s niece (who led the Women‘s Chorus in London) both promised to come down for rehearsals. The local M.P., the Lady Mayoress and all The County was rallied to the cause. By the beginning of December Murder in the Cathedral was sitting comfortably in a prominent place in the social calendar. Meanwhile, it might well be asked, what of the Play? Rehearsals started very late in fact, the first date they are mentioned in the School Chronicle is November 12th, when Dom Alphege and Dom Hugh were busy... “and the Women of Canterbury are consequently spending less time at the Hornby Club.” By late November there were plenty of worries and great disruption of the School time-table. Of the thirty-seven boys in the school, twenty-one were appearing. As an article in the Magazine later had it, “It was essential that, for each character, an actor should be found suited to the particular personality represented and able to give full force to the role provided. The play was too subtle in action and direction to permit the use of the younger boys. Hence, the margin of choice was narrow.” The margin of choice was so narrow that there were no understudies. The dangers of this must have been forcibly brought home when, one evening, Michael Oakley (who, of course, was cast as Becket), returning from a visit to his mother at Merryhill, was run over by “Dom Hilary riding Dom Denis’s bicycle.” (One could fancy an Attic Gilbert rejoicing in such a Machine). Anyway, Oakley was put to bed for the rest of the week by the Matron, Mrs. Ffoulkes, lest he should come to further harm. The Palladium, too, presented difficulties. Father Christopher failed to realise that his £50 hire fee only entitled him to use the theatre for the three evenings of the performance. When, one morning, he went down (armed with contract) and had the lighting switched on for a rehearsal, an extremely irate Manager appeared in no time to clarify the matter. Among other diversions, a cinema Screen occupied the stage for most rehearsals, and on one memorable day, a horse! which was currently appearing in a Variety Act left, on the stage, a sizeable memento of its presence, the removal and remembrance of which painfully distracted the young gentlemen. The scenery was fortunately simple, mainly consisting of a wooden pulpit made specially for the play by Brother Peter and five Banners painted by Dom Bernard. The Costumes came from J. P. Begg (who made the vestments) and Citizen House, Bath. The five pieces of music used were sung from the wings by a Schola of Monks (DD. Maurice, Bernard and Paul). Mr. Speaight and Miss Waterfield came several times to take rehearsals. Speaight was noted by the newspapers as having played Becket more than 750 times professionally in London and New York. This did not deter the youthful Oakley who blandly disagreed with him over the interpretation of one passage. Speaight himself acknowledged this later in a review, and handsomely admitted his own misreading.Eventually, the Performances came and were roundly acclaimed. Here, said the Critics, was something quite out of the ordinary: thorough ground work in the producing, and the finishing touches by Mr. Speaight and Miss Waterfield, had their effect; there was an undoubted style about the whole piece. The Hereford Times solemnly raved about Oakley’s Becket: “This alone would have made the performance memorable”... “rich natural gifts...” Oakley presented Becket as a saint without sanctimony. . . with dynamic but not demonstrative force. . . and considerable beauty.” “The three Priests of the Cathedral were finely played by C. J. Millen, M. Pelly, and P. Garvey, full effect being given to the contrasts in their spiritual outlook, and similarly the four tempters were represented by C. R. Millen, J. Kenny, L. O’Sullivan and W. Lane. The same four players also made excellent Knights and their addressess to the audience “an instance of the modern texture of the play and almost its only light relief” was deliciously done. The Chorus of Women of Canterbury comprised J. Cheney, A. Richardson, P. Donovan, A. Dorling, P. Froude, J. O’Malley, P. Falvey and H. Oakley; and minor parts were capably taken by M. Thorburn (Herald) and L. Bowen, T. Bickford, J. O’Sullivan and B. David.”

The interval speeches at each of the three performances make an interesting contrast: on the first night the Head Master explained that the proceeds would be devoted to the Bambino Guild; on the second night, Mr. Thomas, M.P., said that “this was a practical form of education in Citizenship” on the last night the Lady Mayoress hoped that “the School would give the City of Hereford an annual opportunity of enjoying their dramatic performances.”

It was one of Dom Alphege’s great assets that he always imbued his casts with a tremendous feeling of unity and confidence. This resolved into an almost bitter nostalgia once the play had finished its run. Such seems to have been the atmosphere at the Party held after the last performance at the Palladium; the only comfort lay in half-joking remarks about “taking the Show to Town.” Half way through the Christmas holidays the cast were informed that this was indeed to be done, immediately before the beginning of the Lent term. Contemporary accounts give several reasons for this decision, warm encouragement of friends at home and the invitation of the Catholic Refugee Committee at Westminster”  “Mr. Robert Speaight. . . urged the boys to present the play again before a wider audience” ; “. . . the urge to help Lord Baldwin’s Refugee Fund.” On New Year’s Day, 1939, The Observer carried half a column on the forthcoming visit of Schoolboys from “the famous Benedictine Monastery School on the River Wye.” This report was probably nearest the truth in attributing the venture to “a generous thought which originated with the Head Master, Father McNalty” (sic). The outcome of the Palladium presentation, when the ambitiously organised audience had forgotten about the Occasion in their surprise at the quality of the acting and production, was too good to waste. Father Christopher seems to have left for London early in the New Year, preceded by sound advance newspaper publicity, and followed by Dom Alphege, Dom Hugh and (eventually) most of the Community-including Brother Peter, whose Pulpit was not to be denied its share of the glory.

The fortnight preceding the London production must have been hectic in the extreme. Westminster Cathedral Hall was not in Shaftesbury Avenue (and was a good deal less suitable than the Palladium in Hereford) but it still needed a lot of The last main problem concerned (what the Magazine called) “spiriting the cast away to the Olympian heights of the Metropolis.” The boys arrived from all directions on Monday, January 16th. By this time DD. Hugh and Bruno were also helping. The Olympian Heights materialised as the Cecil Hotel, W.C. 1, but almost immediately changed to the neighbouring and slightly less elevated Glen Rosa Hotel. The best that can be said of this establishment was that it was seedy enough to be authentic accommodation for any actors on tour. Its main attraction for the boys was a party of Welshmen, up for the International; when celebrating, which was most of the week, they kept the Dining Room in a constant uproar by their informal attitude towards the waitresses. Tuesday morning was spent investigating London. In the afternoon a rehearsal was held in the Cathedral Hall; “Mr. Speaight was good enough to attend and suggest some adaptations for our new setting.” On Wednesday, after more sight-seeing and rehearsing, the first performance of the play “was successfully given to a very appreciative audience . . . despite many qualms on the part of the actors. His Eminence the Cardinal attended and his address at the play’s conclusion was full of encouragement.“ One of Mr. Speaight’s “adaptations” was that Becket should enter in procession, from the back of the Hall, and move through the audience to the stage, “blessing” the people in the archiepiscopal manner. This idea worked splendidly until Oakley realised that the audience were automatically responding and crossing themselves. Participation indeed A second trial for poor Becket came at the end of Wednesday’s performance when the Cardinal rose to begin his speech before the front Curtain could be closed with the “corpse” of Becket still at the centre of the stage. The dilemma was whether to lie there, deathlike and unheeding, or whether to climb embarrassingly to his feet. Art triumphed over Convention and he remained on the floor.

There was a Matinee on the Thursday afternoon, after which the cast was presented to Cardinal Hinsley. As one would expect, the Cardinal was the soul of kindness and paternal interest.., although his parting words to Father Christopher  “ Make them all Priests!”  were heard with sympathy rather than enthusiasm. After the final performance on the Thursday evening (the School Chronicle announced) “Lord Sempill entertained the cast.” Visions of Running Buffets, clinking champagne glasses and the Cafe Royal spring to mind. The awful secret must now be revealed: kind though the gesture was, it amounted to nothing more enviable than supper at the ABC Restaurant at Victoria. So the Company left “the exalted atmosphere of Drury Lane. . . and ‘amid trailing clouds of glory’ returned to Belmont. . . to be entertained by Dom Cyril with the first of a series of cinema (silent) shows.” Sic transit

Even today, the facts about Murder in the Cathedral are amazing. It was intended primarily to be nothing more than a publicity gimmick for a tiny school. The success of Father Christopher’s incredible idea had several contributory causes the popularity of war charities ; the character of the play which was ideally in keeping with the monastic background of the School; the remarkably talented Oakley, so well fitted to play the demanding and all-important leading role; and the ability and enthusiasm of Dom Alphege and Dom Hugh. But undoubtedly the unifying factor was the personality of Father Christopher: his faith in his own imagination provided the basic drive to the whole venture. Neither in Hereford nor in London did the play make money. Eventually £50 was sent to the Bambinos and £25 to Lord Baldwin’s Refugees, but this was a mere bagatelle, compared with the play‘s publicity value to the School. People have poured scorn on the initial idea, but nobody could deny that it was indeed a remarkable piece of showmanship.

After Murder in the Cathedral there was naturally an anticlimax, and a slackening-off of interest in large scale dramatics. In June, 1”9, the “Junior School” presented The Magic Ruby, as part of the annual Fete. This was held in the Paddock to raise money for the Parish.’ It included Fortune Tellers, boxing by Dom Francis’s Parish Scouts, Bowling for the Pig, a Coconut Shy (managed by Dom Cyril), teas served by Mrs. Lewis, a Piety Stall “organised” by Nancy and Janey, and a Sweet Stall run by Mrs. Massey-Lynch. In the evening there was Dancing in the Parish Hall (admission 6d.) from 7.00 p.m. In 1”9 this modest event raised no less than £90. 

1 This money was for the mysterious purpose of “taking Children to Bullingham”. 

The Magic Ruby was repeated on July 24th, together with Puck of  Pook’s Hill (by boys of the “Middle School”), both being presented in the “Abbey grounds in aid of the Hereford Air Defence Cadet Corps.” July 27th was Speech Day, and the two plays were again produced, but this time indoors because of rain. Kevin Lumley caused great amusement in The Magic Ruby by trying to enter through a hole in the curtain, being under the impression that it was the genuine opening. By an odd coincidence, Denis Heenan (who played the same part in the 1”5 production of this play) made more or less the same mistake. Dom Raymund produced Puck of Pock’s Hill (having himself adapted it from Kipling) while Dom Bruno (who had much experience of the amateur stage previously) first emerged as a producer with The Magic Ruby. As Dom Bruno recalls, “in these days the stage had to be put up each time, and it was a chancy affair to make the right choice of board for each of the ten or so trestles. Lighting was by means of strings attached to the gas burners, and by gas footlights.  I also remember making up a door to go between two sets of curtains; other than a backcloth there was no scenery.

The War directly affected School life at Belmont in two ways. The universal   “blacking-out” of windows became an important feature of the Honorary Servants’ Duties, and the number of boys in the School rose to seventy-two. Many of the young new boys came from St. Benedict’s, Ealing, at that time a dependent Priory of Downside. Father Christopher seized his opportunity to introduce the House System: Dom Denis was appointed House Master of  Kemble, Dom Alphege of Cantilupe and Dom Bruno of St. Ethelbert’s, the Preparatory Department. Dom Martin took over the management of the School cinema from Dom Cyril. Feelings between the two senior Houses inclined to run high, especially when a House Feast or Match was involved. After the first (Junior) House match “the rival factions joined battle on the field; flags were torn and minor injuries inflicted. Throughout the evening tension ran high, and the Cantilupe festivities were concluded amid execrations from without.” This account is a trifle euphemistic, and for the next eight or nine years inter-House feeling could assume alarming proportions. The violence was sometimes viewed with dismay-but it did serve, at an important time, to emphasise the virtue of loyalty-and this clearly benefited the School as a whole.

On November 6th, 1939, it was announced that “as present conditions forbid any large scale theatrical effort, it has been decided to produce a pantomime.” This was Cinderella, which had been written only the previous September by the Reverend Bernard Bassett, S.J. The book in itself was slight enough, but provided a good vehicle for the topicalities worked into it. Michael Oakley returned to earth with a bang to play the Baroness Eldorado, and gave a richly comic performance “in the silks and flounces of Versailles” (which the Hereford Times quaintly described as “the most up-to-date style.”) One of the songs perhaps best transmits the ethos:

You’re as pretty as a Picture, A wonderful Exhibition of Art.

Just picture what you’ve done to my heart.

Dai O’Sullivan and John Morris were Kiaora and Ovaltine, the Ugly Sisters, and proved themselves “naturals.” James O’Malley captured all hearts as Cinderella, including that of Mervyn Pelly’s Prince Charming. There was a diminutive Fairy Godmother (Geoffrey Garvey) defying the Demon King (John Greiff) who was filled with “quite Hitlerish hate” ; there was also Pat Donovan’s Lord Chamberlain, and, of course, a Policeman (Hugh Morris), a Horse (Joseph Cheney and Derek Dorling) and an “Expert” (Joseph Cheney). Dom Alban Dobson and Father Cyril Adams produced: they replaced the hitherto curtain proscenium with one of beaver board, at the same time buying for £50 from Greenlands of Hereford the front Curtain2 (which lasted until the Old Gym ceased to be used for plays in the summer of 1960). Dom Bernard (according to the Hereford Times) “painted the scenery specially”, being assisted in this by “Master W. Lane”-who also arranged and accompanied the music. Dom Martin (apparently for the first time) was in charge of the lighting-’ the thunder and lightning in the demon scene caused quite a thrill.” Europe was ominously quiescent, the calm before the terrible days of Dunkirk. As the Hereford Times blithely observed: “The Opening Chorus, "There will always be an England, was most appropriate.”And all the borders, legs and traverse curtains. Some of these are now doing humble service as oven cloths in the kitchen.

The Summer Term, 1940, was packed with incident, at home and abroad. It began with Dom Denis’s removal to the Infirmary with rheumatic fever-”there was great misgiving in Kemble at the prospect of a regency exercised from the alien domain of Cantilupe.” Abbot Trafford carried out a Visitation of the Monastery on April 16th. On April 23rd, Archbishop McGrath was translated from Menevia to Cardiff, and the School sent loyal greetings. A hearty welcome was given to the new Aga Cooker “now installed in the place so long ennobled by the presence of a range decked in the mediaeval glories of the elder Pugin.” On May 9th, “Mr. Harding, one-time master at this School, gave the Senior Debating Society an interesting talk on the B.B.C., with which he is now connected.” The next day the German Army invaded Holland and Belmont Gas Masks were carefully inspected. There followed Sports Day on the 13th, a Day of National Prayer on the 26th, Abbot Leonard’s sacerdotal Silver Jubilee on the 27th. With June the War came closer. The School was allowed home for Half Term- “before the further onslaught of exams and other forms of 91blitzkrieg’ “. Individual boys began to leave permanently for their homes and people abroad: “Franz Steiner, Norman Yonge, Stefan Franskowski, John Morrison, departed to other parts of the Empire.” Windows were painted with an anti-splinter preparation; some of the boys helped to entertain a party of the returned B.E.F. in the Parish Hall; “their experiences were well worth listening to.” On Speech Day itself, the new Archbishop of Cardiff came, and little John Sayer died suddenly in hospital with scarlet fever. The day after DD. Hugh Raymund, Martin and Bruno were ordained Priests. On July, 10th “we were privileged to witness an entertainment here by Mr. John Gielgud, Miss Beatrice Lillie and Miss Ivy St. Helier.” This too was quite an experience. On the feast of St. Benedict there was a lecture and demonstration of A.R.P. methods at Maryhill House. On July 12th, in spite of the fact that the only apparent obstacles between Hitler’s victorious armies and the conquest of England were a few miles of water and fifty obsolete tanks, the Public Examination began.In the middle of all this came A Midsummer Nighi’s Dream. Dom Alphege produced and did an expert piece of cutting by the removal of the Egeus-Hermia-Lysander~Demetrius group,thus throwing the emphasis onto the Mechanics. These were a splendid crew: Michael Oakley (in his final appearance) as Bottom; Alphonsus (Dom Robert) Richardson as Quince; Tim Bickford as Snug; Brian Mulcair as Flute ; Joseph Cheney as Snout and Derek Dean as Starveling. The Mechanics are, of course, favoured with great comic writing, but the skill and panache of this particular company exploited the original to the full. Oakley provided an admirable and individual interpretation of Bottom. This was to prove his last appearance, but however melancholy the occasion was in retrospect for one who had acted with such distinction over the previous eight years, there could hardly be a better comic part for a Farewell Performance. Richardson, as Quince, and Mulcair, as Flute, outdid each other in support, and in Richardson’s case people must have wondered how he had been missed before. A Midsummer Night’s Dream was performed on Friday evening for the Parish, and on Speech Day afternoon.

Mendelssohn’s music was played by Miss Blanche Unterbeig “on a piano behind the cypresses forming the stage”, and the singers were trained by the School Music Master, Mr. Cohn Ross. Besides the Archbishop of Cardiff, there was a fair selection of notabilities present and a very distinguished visitor in Colonel Konarski, Head of the Polish Military Mission in England. Upon being told by Dom Alphege that the Air Ministry had presented the School with an aeroplane engine, this gentleman generously offered an aeroplane to go with it. The offer was accepted . . . in the spirit in which it was made.There was no Christmas Play in 1940: Father Christopher was taken up with anxiety about his own position at the time, and was persuaded not to have a play. (The projected Tempest of June, 1941, was also abandoned, more reasonably, to Mumps). In the spring of 1941, Father Christopher resigned the Headmastership to become a chaplain in the Royal Air Force, and there came to an end a most fascinating chapter in the life of the School. As far as the Plays are concerned, they reflect pretty accurately the extraordinary story of three hectic years. Because of this, they deserve to be considered apart. Like the Head Master who inspired them, they have a very special place in the history of Belmont.

1938 Doctor Faustus Murder in the Cathedral

1949 Murder in the Cathedral

The Magic Ruby

Puck of Pooh’s Hill

Cinderella

1940 A Midsummer Night’s Dream No Christmas Play

1941 The Tempest was abandoned to Mumps

(June)

(December, at the Palladium)

(January, in London)

(June and July)

(July)

(December)

(June)

The Author is indebted to DD. Bruno Reynolds, Robert Richardson and Brother James Oahley for their generous help. He would also like to thank John Kenny, Timothy Bichford and Joseph Cheney for the enlightening way in which, long years ago, they wrote the School Chronicle. Any further information about the period 1938-41 would be most welcome, or any information about Belmont theatricals from 1941 to the present day. The series is to be continued. C.R.H.

(to be continued)