Fanny and Stella (41 page)

Mr Digby Seymour knew that he bore a heavy burden of responsibility. Perhaps the heaviest burden. The Attorney-General had roped together, as it were, all the defendants, which meant that if one fell, they all fell. And if one was found innocent, all were innocent.  

But it was
his
client, young Ernest Boulton, who bore the brunt of the prosecution. He was at the dark heart of this spider’s web of sodomy and corruption. He was the lynchpin and the king-post of this conspiracy. All roads led to him and all roads led from him. Stella, the shining star to whom all were drawn. Stella, the glittering sun around whom all orbited. Four of the defendants were Ernest Boulton’s paramours, the remaining three his friends and fellow female personators. Without Ernest Boulton there could be no conspiracy. Without Ernest Boulton there was no case. All the evidence, all the evidence that really mattered – the letters and photographs; the tittle-tattle of servants and landladies and ladies’ retiring-room attendants; the observations and insinuations of Dr Paul – all of it was focused and concentrated on Ernest Boulton. Acquit Ernest Boulton, and all would be acquitted.

There were what looked like tears in Mr Digby Seymour’s eyes and there was a break in his voice as he imploringly invoked the image of Mrs Mary Ann Boulton one last time. He beseeched the Jury to acquit this mother’s child, this mother’s most dutiful and most affectionate son. A young man who could so inspire the love and loyalty and admiration of this Mother among Mothers could surely not be ‘capable of plunging at his young age into the depths of this terrible defilement’.

‘Pronounce by your verdict that there may be folly, but not guilt,’ Mr Digby Seymour enjoined, his oratory beginning to soar like a lark on the wing. ‘Pronounce by your verdict that there may be extravagance; that there may be madness, if you please, in the indulgence of this fancy on the part of my client. But you will require stronger evidence than this before you come to the conclusion that these men are guilty of the terrible charge made against them.’

Mr Digby Seymour paused and took a deep and portentous breath before his final peroration.

‘I say that, in a case like this, I trust your verdict will establish that the moral atmosphere of England is not yet tainted with the impurities of continental cities, and from our island position we are insulated from these outrages upon Decency, Morality and Nature itself.

‘I trust that you will pronounce by your verdict that London is not cursed with the sins of Sodom, or Westminster tainted with the vices of Gomorrah.’

And with that powerful and patriotic rallying call to reject and renounce the very idea of sodomy and sodomites stalking England’s green and pleasant land, Mr Digby Seymour abruptly and dramatically sat down.

I 
t was a few minutes before five o’clock when the Jurymen filed back into the Ancient and Honourable Court of Queen’s Bench. It had taken them just fifty-three minutes to consider their verdict. Such a short deliberation was extremely unusual, especially in a case so complex and important.

According to the collective wisdom of the counsel assembled in Westminster Hall that afternoon, such a perfunctory consideration meant one of two things: either the guilt of the defendants was so evident, or their innocence so shining, that little or no discussion was needed to reach a verdict.

‘Gentlemen, are you all agreed?’ the Clerk of the Court asked the Jurymen. ‘Do you find the defendants guilty or not guilty?’

‘
Not
guilty,’ replied the Foreman emphatically, at which there was an outbreak of wild cheers and whistles and loud cries of ‘Bravo!’

‘Upon all counts of the indictment?’ the Lord Chief Justice asked, struggling to make himself heard above the din.

‘Yes, my Lord. Not guilty on
all
the counts.’

As all eyes turned towards the defendants, Stella, with perfect timing, swayed melodramatically, and fell into a dead faint.

30

Clouds and Sunshine

Rose of the garden,

Blushing and gay. . .

E’en as we pluck thee,

Fading away! 

Anne Fricker, ‘Fading Away’, 1854

MR ERNEST BOULTON begs to thank those managers who have offered engagements, but intends to resume the Drawing-Room Entertainment in which he originally appeared. He is desirous of meeting with a gentleman who is musical, has a good voice, and who could take one of the leading parts in the entertainment — Address, &c.

Reynolds’s Newspaper
, 6th August 1871

J 
ust two months after her sensational acquittal at Westminster Hall, Stella was eager to be back in the theatrical saddle. Though the trial had taken a very considerable toll upon her fragile health and strength, she was nevertheless resolved to return to the stage at any and at all costs.

Besides, what choice did she have? A respectable life was closed to her for ever. Who would marry her now? The stench and taint of sodomy was upon her and she was now so notorious that even going on the pad was unthinkable. She would be recognised at once and hauled straight back to court.

Of course, she could always scarper abroad, as so many of her friends and acquaintance had done, like rats fleeing a sinking ship. But Miss Stella Boulton was made of sterner stuff. She had not come this far, through tribulations and through trials, through fire and through flame, to turn and run, to hide herself away from the light of day and live a haunted and hunted life.

No matter that she was notorious. No matter that her name was on everyone’s lips – for all the wrong reasons. Miss Stella Boulton was defiant. She would snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. She would steal fame from infamy. She would take up where she had left off, return to the stage and be a shining star. The world had most certainly not heard the last of Miss Stella Boulton.

But Stella had a problem. She needed a leading man.

Lord Arthur Clinton was dead and buried (though that strange story had more than its fair share of doubters and disbelievers). Dead or alive, Lord Arthur was, in any event, no longer at liberty to play Sir Edward Ardent to her Fanny Chillingtone.

So Stella took the bold and unusual step of advertising for a leading man. She had no idea how many – if any – applicants there would be. But at least one, Mr Louis Munro, a gentleman in the prime of life, rose to the challenge, and by the early autumn of 1871 Stella and her dashingly handsome new leading man (off stage as well as on stage) were embarked on an ambitious tour of the Midlands and the North.

‘Mr Ernest Boulton in his Drawing-Room Entertainment,’ the advertisement in the
Liverpool Mercury
proclaimed. ‘Mr Ernest Boulton in his unrivalled impersonation of the Female Character. As played before the Mayors of Oldham, Macclesfield and Other Towns to Crowded Houses.’

According to a gushing review in that organ, ‘Mr Boulton displayed considerable ability, particularly in the character of the four female cousins, in which the rapidity of change of dress and the alterations of voice, gesture, and general appearance were very striking. There was a numerous audience, and the entertainment gave the most unqualified satisfaction.’

Not all towns and cities were as enthusiastic as Oldham, Macclesfield and Liverpool, however. Towns in the South of England were considerably less enamoured of the theatrical and womanly charms of Ernest Boulton. In May 1872 the following announcement appeared in the
Hampshire Telegraph and Sussex Chronicle
: 

PORTLAND HALL, SOUTHSEA

FOR TWO NIGHTS ONLY

Mr Ernest Boulton, assisted by Mr Louis Munro, will have the honour of giving his Select, Varied and Refined Drawing-Room Entertainment in which he will appear in those Wonderful Impersonations of Female Character which have won him world-wide celebrity.

The Entertainment will commence with a Fashionable Sketch, entitled ‘A CHARMING WIDOW’ (with the celebrated song ‘Fading Away’ sung by Mr E. Boulton)

To be followed by an Original Operetta (in ten minutes) composed expressly for Mr Boulton, and entitled ‘THE POWER OF GOLD’

To conclude with the Domestic Person Entertainment, entitled ‘CLOUDS AND SUNSHINE’.

(Constance, Mr Ernest Boulton, Ferdinand, Mr Louis Munro)

It was a dismal flop. ‘The beauty of the song, “The Fair Gipsy Maid”, was entirely destroyed by Mr Boulton, who, of course, was the Fair Gipsy Maid, singing far too loudly and without the slightest attempt at pathos,’ a scathing notice in the
Hampshire Telegraph
read. Mr Louis Munro ‘sang in a very wretched manner’, and taking everything together, the
Telegraph
concluded, ‘this is an entertainment which is scarcely one we can recommend’.

Other newspapers were even more damning. ‘This so-called “entertainment” is one of which we feel we cannot too strongly disapprove,’ the
Hampshire Advertiser
opined sternly in an editorial. ‘It is a class of performance pandering to a vitiated taste, and ought therefore to be discouraged in every possible way.’

Things went from bad to worse. Two months later a performance had to be abandoned amid scenes of near riot:

Ernest Boulton, of Boulton and Park notoriety, was to have given an entertainment at Aldershot on Monday evening but was prevented by a number of officers and others, who determined they would not hear him, and a regular row ensued, in the midst of which the gas was turned out, and the principal performer was glad to make his escape as best he could.

There were simmering private and professional tensions, too, and a few weeks after the debacle of Aldershot, Stella and the dashingly handsome Mr Louis Munro acrimoniously parted company.

As far as Stella was concerned it was good riddance. There would be no difficulty in replacing Louis Munro. Her good-looking and manly brother, Gerard, was shaping up very nicely and would be the perfect foil to her leading lady.

Stella and Gerard continued to tour the North of England, generally to great acclaim, though there were periodic ejaculations and expostulations of surprise and ire that the notorious Ernest Boulton was continuing to perform in drag and seemingly making a good living from it. 

Beams of the morning,

Promise of day,

While we are gazing,

Fading away! 

Despite Stella’s many professional triumphs, the past always came back to haunt her. When she was appearing in York, the
Pall Mall Gazette
fulminated against ‘the impudence of aged sinners’ performing in a cathedral city. And whenever any young man was arrested in drag, the name of Ernest Boulton was always brought up.

Stella was weary of it. And so at the end of 1873, she made two momentous decisions. She would change her stage name to Ernest Byne and she would go to America to find the fame and fortune that still eluded her in England. Besides, she was missing Fanny dreadfully and wanted to see her.

W 
hen Judge Alexander Park had stood up in Westminster Hall to give evidence on Fanny’s behalf, it was painfully obvious to everyone that he was a very sick man, and it came as no surprise when he died just six months later. Fanny and Harry, who had been released from prison in July 1871, were with him to the end.

Now there was nothing to keep either of them in England. America would be a fresh start. They would make a new life for themselves, where no one knew them, where they would be free, in so far as it was possible, of the past. They had money, more than enough money, to live comfortably, and if the stories Fanny had heard about America were true, there would be no shortage of handsome American beaux for Harry and herself.

Much as she loved Stella, Fanny had always felt overshadowed by her sister’s beauty and by her talent. It was not that she resented Stella. She most certainly did not. But it was hard sometimes not to feel a little piqued when Stella was so determinedly hogging all the limelight, and she herself so constantly standing in the wings. In America she would have the chance to make her own way, to prove herself on the New York stage and find fame and fortune.

As Fred Fenton, ‘comedian’, Fanny carved out a modest career for herself in the ‘small business’ of the theatre: walk-on parts and character roles, nearly always in drag. She excelled, as she always had, at playing elderly and eccentric English dowagers, and for a short and glorious period she was resident at the famous Fifth Avenue Theater in New York. It was the closest she ever came to stardom.

S 
tella and Gerard arrived in New York in the spring of 1874. One of their first engagements was at the Theatre Comique where they reprised their successful English comedietta
The Four Cousins
, attracting favourable notices: ‘Ernest Byne in the character of Ellen, a domestic young lady, sang with much effort “A Pretty Girl Milking Her Cow”, and at the close of the piece, with Gerard in a duet entitled “Now With Joy My Bosom Bounds”.’