SINGER AND NAVVIES

Greymouth Evening Star, 11 June 1932, Page 5

SINGER AND NAVVIES

A SUNDERLAND EPISODE History, ancient and modern, has much to tell -us of the capricious prima donna. But the operatic soprano is not the only species that has embarrassed the entrepreneur writes Hugo Gorlitz, in the London Daily Telegraph). No one could be more “difficult” than Sims Reeves. Many a time that great tenor disappointed his English audiences. A little bit of fog would immediately upset him when it needed but some moral force or fear to bring him to his senses. In the year 1890, during one of his “farewell” tours, I once stole a march on the veteran. It happened in Sunderland. People who managed the concert locally demanded a written assurance that Reeves would not disappoint them. This was given, and left to me to carry out. In the early morning of the day of the concert, Reeves began his customary slight cough, usually the advance warning to us that he was not willing to sing. As was his custom, he sent his valet, who was named Barfoot, to fetch him the “Financial NfeAvs.” No sooner had the valet disappeared than Reeves gradually led up to me his intention of cancelling the Sunderland concert for that evening.

Mindful that he had hi§ 100 guineas in advance, I immediately set to think ing of a plan to make him carry out his contract.

THE HELPFUL FOREMAN First of all I went down to the shore, where a number of navvies were at work, and having told the foreman of my calamity, he agreed to help me by sending towards evening about 100 of his men to the hotel where Reeves was staying. They were under orders to make a disturbance by shouting their remonstrance at the tenor if he insisted on refusing to sing. Then I set the valet “wise” to support me, and thus equipped we awaited events. As soon as the men had stopped work they marched to the front and back entrances of the hotel and shouted at the top of their voices. “What is that?” asked Reeves of his valet. “Oh! sir, I regret to say these men have bought tickets for your concert, and learned that you intended to abandon it. They declare they won’t let you leave the town alive unless you fulfil your engagement.” “What am I to do?” he asked me. “Do help me!” “The only way to save the situation is for you to sing,” said I. Promptly he asked me not to leave him, and to protect him wfc’.le walking to the hall. A suggestion on. his part to- send for the police only provoked a smile. , , He sang, wonderfully, as always, and gladly paid the bill fox' beei’ and cigars for the 100 navvies the next day, and over a bottle of his favourite champagne, congratulated me on my diplomacy.