"Roamin' in the Gloamin'" Wi' Harry Lauder

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 566, 19 January 1929, Page 24

"Roamin' in the Gloamin'" Wi' Harry Lauder

CIR HARRY LAUDER, the Scots comedian, at present on holiday in the Auckland Province, has many good. tales to tell in his volume of memoirs, 'Roaming in the Gloaming'."

I ■! I)ITiT"T ~ P SAVE THE KING" rang through the WY7) | fv} 1 London theatre with E ynjf unusual fervour at the Passed enc! of the performance, for it was wartime: and as the last note died away the leader of the song crumpled to the stage in a faint. Another clown had performed his antics in spite of the heartbreak caused by the death of his son in battle. If anything comforted him it was the knowledge that his audienGe knew of his sorrow and admired his pluck. He had faltered in the wings, scarcely able to make his entrance, but a friend had braced him with the reminder, “Remember John’s last words—‘Carry on!’” He took hold of himself, braced his shoulders and ran on to the stage. For just a moment there was silence, and then the admiring spectators burst into a tornado of cheering, “standing up in all parts of the house and shouting the most loving and affectionate and encouraging remarks. After cheering they started to cry.” The famous comedian went through with his first song as well as he had ever done it, but collapsed as he went into the wings. Nevertheless he missed not a line, a cue, or a gesture in the whole performance. But the last act of the revue, Harry Lauder was aware, would be too much for him. For it was Sir Harry, whose crooked stick, kilts and Scottish burr are known the world over, who went through this agonising experience after his son, John, was killed in action.

The scene in the theatre he describes in his autobiography, “Roamin’ in the Gloamin’.” Sir Harry stayed

iu the revue. "Three Cheers." until it closed, doing much hospital work in London at the same time. But he was not satisfied. He wanted to go to the front. He was rejected for active service on account of his age But after some time he was able to persuade the authorities to allow him to visit the front to entertain Soots troops wherever they might he. His party carried with it a portable piano “We were seldom far away from the firing line,” writes Sir Ham, “We worked eastward to Albert atid Arras and down as far as Peronne. having many opportunities of Beeing every phase of the soldiers’ lives from the base right up to the frontline trenches. We visited the infantry, the artillery and the trans port, and wherever it was a feasible proposition I set up my portable piano and sang to officers and men in the open-air, in rest camps, in dug-outs, in old chateaux, ruined farms, tumbledown barns —everywhere. "Sometimes I gave as many as half-a-dozen concerts in a day. The audi ence varied from a hundred or two up to several thousands. At Arras, for instance, which was one of the great British centres in France, there must have been at least five thousand men assembled in the twilight of a soft June evening. That was a scene 1 shall never forget. “I remember finishing that concert in almost pitch darkness. Above the shouts came a great voice which boomed. ‘l’m frae Aberfeldy, Harry—for God’s Sake sing us “The Wee Hoose ’Mang the Heather!”’ Such a request could not be ignored. “I’m thinking that many of the kilties who sang the haunting chorus with me at Arras that night never again saw the wee hoose or the lassie they had in mind, and that the lassie herself is still dreaming of a soldier’s lonely grave overseas.” Most people know of Sir Harry's early life and of his sudden rise to fame. He admits that he lost his financial head at his sudden success, and takes a sly dig at himself for it. As soon as the theatrical agents kne» that he was a hit, they descended | upon him. offering contracts. We read on;—

"They turned up not in single flies but in battalions. They pulled out sheaves of contracts, all of which I signed gladly, without even discussing terms: This is another statement which folks all over the world will have difficulty in believing. Yet I assure them that it is quite true. I was so bewildered by my instantaneous success that my main thought was work rather than money. Vaguely I hoped that the latter would follow the former, but I was as yet too lacking in shrewdness to make good bargains. The result of my impetuosity to sign these early contracts was that I found myself tied up with London managements for years ahead at salaries that were simply ridiculous in view of my drawing capacity.” Here we are told of the origin of the famous "Lauder stories” which have provoked so much mirth: Looking hack on them now it seems to me that half my time was taken up in being interviewed by newspaper men and being photographed in a hundred different costumes and attitudes so that editors could illustrate the articles. This was, of course, very line publicity for me. But it was nothing compared with the publicity I received in later years by the broods of tales and stories circulated about my personal characteristics in acquiring and husbanding "the bawbees”! At first I resented them, then I tolerated them, afterward I began to invent them myself and encouraged other people to invent them. They made up a battery of the very finest free advertisements any stage personality could have wished for! Yes, all the “Harry Lauder stories” that have winged their way round the globe during the past 30 years have only had the effect of putting more “siller” into my pouch. Indeed, if Igo for a week or two without hearing one, or an old one revarnished, I think there must he something wrong with my unpaid publicity staff. In his life, so crowded with activities, Sir Harry has been on terms of friendship with many famous contemporaries in other fields. He gives us interesting glimpses of members of the British Royal family, and re-, eals the source of one of the twisted sticks which he useg continually on the stage. We read: “Writing about my meetings with British Royalty reminds me of a unique incident which occurred at the Palace Theatre the night King George and Queen Mary came to see my performance. Mr. George Ashton, the well-known London concert agent, who usually manages all such outings on behalf of British Royalty, came round to the dressing-room and said that their Majesties desired to have a chat with me in the Royal box. Of course I went up at once and remained with the King and Queen for, perhaps, seven or ten minutes. On making my way back to the ' dressing-room, Mr. Ashton appeared in the corridor and with him was the Duke of Connaught. I was introduced to his Royal Highness and was standing speaking to him when Ashton moved off up the corridor. ‘Well, good-night, George,' t shouted after him, ‘and ‘good luck!’ Before the words left my mouth the King had emerged into the corridor from his box. With a broad smile on his face he turned in my direction and cried out, ‘And good-night and good luck to you, Harry!’

“I was overwhelmed with confusion at the awful though that I might be held as taking jocular liberties with the King-Emperor, and stood riveted to the spot. But King George went off laughing very heaxtily at his own joke. “The Prince of Wales I have had the honour of meeting several times. In fact, we are quite good friends. I have had him in my dressing-room more than once. He is a splendid fellow . . . Among my collection of twisted sticks which I use in my different character studies is one brought home from Japan by his Royal Highness specially for presentation to myself. When the Prince saw this stick out there he said: “I must take it home to Harry Lauder!’ And he did.”