The luxurious and opulent interior of the Empire Theatre. There was room to wander around but there were also comfortable seats and what was called an ‘American Bar’ serving one shilling cocktails such as the ‘Bosom Caresser’ and the ‘Corpse Reviver’. The theatre charged half a crown (12 1/2p) for a rover ticket that gave you licence to enjoy the promenade. This was an area behind the dress circle, where you could still see the stage if you wanted to, but was essentially a pick up joint for high class prostitutes.
In reality, the dominant attraction, and to what Wilde was probably referring, was the Empire’s second-tier promenade. In the 1890s the Empire in Leicester Square was justly famous as a Variety and Musical Hall theatre especially for its spectacular ballet productions and its ‘Living Pictures’ – frozen-moment representations of well-known paintings or other familiar scenes where seemingly half-naked young men and women stood very very still. At Wilton’s music hall, for instance, it was flagrant, the gallery could only be entered through the brothel inside which the hall had been built. Prostitution and the theatre, of course, had always been pretty close bedfellows, so to speak. I heard them laugh and scream in very effeminate voices. I saw from the a roof into a bedroom in the basement, where two men enter the bedroom, they both undressed and got into bed and the light was put out. Police Constable Gavin contributed to the report: I stood close to them and saw their faces were powdered and painted and their appearance and manner strongly suggested them to be importuners of men. They walked cuddling one another to Tottenham Court Road, where they stood waiting for a bus. They noted the activities during various parties Robert Britt held at his flat.Īt 11.45pm I saw two men, who I saw enter at 11.30pm leave, they were undoubtedly men of the “Nancy type”. Sergeant Spencer and Police Constable Gavin of “D” division had spent 16th, 17th December 1926 and 1st and 2nd of January 1927 essentially peering into the abode from the front and rear of the property. It eventually came to light that the police had been staking out Britt’s flat for a month or so. I did not like that sort of life, so as I’m considered good at fancy dancing I decided to go on stage… Some of the men I have known for a long time and they bring along any of their friends if they care to do so. I was a Valet to a gentleman for about nine years who died last November. I have been here for about eight months and pay two pounds five shillings weekly for the flat. I was going to give an exhibition dance when you came in. I am employed in the chorus of ‘Lady Be Good’.
The oddly attired man gave his name as Robert Britt and said: They came across a 26 year old man who was wearing, as a police report would later describe, ‘a thin black transparent skirt, with gilt trimming round the edge and a red sash… tied round his loins.’ The report added ‘he wore ladys (sic) shoes and was naked from the loins upwards.’ The Superintendent and his fellow officers barged past here and quickly entered the flat. Carre responded:īut Mr Britt was going to give us a Salome dance! A woman called Constance Carre answered and was told that there was a warrant to arrest the occupants. Police photograph of Bobby Britt and his party guests at his flat at 25 Fitzroy Square, January 1927Īt one in the morning on the 16th January 1927 Superintendent George Collins of the Metropolitan police knocked on the door of the basement flat at 25 Fitzroy Square.