George Gilby

20/4/2022

The Music Hall star George Gilbey was born On This Day 20th April 1870. A resident of 8 Blakemore Road

This caricature is of the comedian George Gilbey when he was performing at the Grand Theatre of Varieties, Hanley, during the week of 26 December 1904. He was billed as ‘Mr George Gilbey. From the Principal London Variety Theatres’. This is one of the many superb caricatures of Edwardian music hall performers that were drawn by the artist George Cooke when he was based at the Grand Theatre. He compiled them in a series of albums.

Gilbey was a support act on the evening’s programme, which starred Charles Prinz and his 17 Lions. But the review in the local newspaper noted,

A patter comedian of the first water is Mr George Gilbey who was last night cheered to the echo for his account of a football match, and his no less funny song ‘Why Should I?’ Gilbey has a style all his own, and his jokes have the virtue of being strictly original.

When he appeared at the Grand the following September the reviewer noted the excellence of Gilbey as Spouty the footballer. ( Source: V and A)

3 Comments

Pamela Redman

12/3/2024 11:04:15 am

Interesting reading George Gilbey is my grandfather. I have a different caricature of him by George Cook, a cigarette card and a picture of the grand order of water rats with him on it.

Pamela Redman

12/3/2024 11:31:41 am

That comment should have said my grandfathers brother

Geoff Ager

16/6/2024 03:32:55 am

I thought you may be interested in the song verses and patter that George Gilbey used as ‘Spouty’ the goalkeeper! Words by William Hargreaves.

VERSE
1.
I’ve just rushed from the field of play to break the news to you;
We’ve been and made a draw of it by sixty goals to two.
We started with eleven men, At half -time we had five,
And now the doctors tell me I’m the only man alive.

2.
The colours of my club are red, but ere the match was through,
The other side had changed them to a lovely Black and Blue.
The centre forward charged me, Oh!– how he made me howl,
And just because I bit his nose he went and claimed a foul.

SPOKEN — You see our club the Lock-jaw-rangers were in for the final. We were drawn to play the Rottenham-got-the-spur. I might mention that in our club there’s a crack player, well as far as that goes we’ve been in such rough matches that when the other side had finished we were all broken and cracked players, but this player I mean is the best. Mind you I’m not going to say it’s me, but he’s not in the ten that are not here. The pet of our club is Spouty. When the play is at its best that’s Spouty. When you hear the spectators shouting and applauding, that’s Spouty. When a critical moment is approaching all eyes turn to one man — that’s Spouty. I might mention I’m Spouty. But the match. It was a very wet day, and all around the goal were pools of water. There were so many pools of water that I had to get a man in to give me a greasy preparation. I had two pounds of fat rubbed into my head, fourteen pounds of lard rubbed into my back, and twenty pounds of vaseline rubbed on – my word, I did have some grease on me. Tbe secretary came into the tent just as I was leaving it and said, “Spouty, are you going to keep goal, or swim the Channel?” When I got on to the field of battle you should have heard the cheers from the spectators. I was so delighted I shook hands with both of them. The captain of the other eleven came up to me and said, “Spouty, we had counted on winning this match, but we had no idea you were going to play.” The referee said, “Go on, start tossing,” but none of us had anything to toss with, so we tossed up with the gate money. I won the toss, but we found the gate money had two heads; somebody must have given a bad penny. So we decided to toss with something else, so we tossed with the referee; he came down head, so I won again. I placed my men in their different positions, and the whistle went. After the whistle had gone two or three times we discovered we’d no ball, so we drew lots for to see which of the players we’d use until somebody found a ball. At last somebody brought a ball; well it had been a ball before somebody had put a tin whistle in the end of it to make a bellows.
The Rottenham-got-the-spur rushed up the field with the ball, and one fellow made a kick at the ball – and missed. Believe me, if he had caught the ball with the kick he made the match would have been postponed. Then the scene after that. I was in the pub at the corner when I heard cries of ‘goal!’ There’s a mean advantage; just because I left the goal for a few minutes to get a drink they go and score. It wasn’t clever. And I’m not so sure if they’d have scored then only the two backs had gone to get a drink as well. When I came back a fellow came running up with the ball, and just because I went to kick it he charged me. And what a charge. He sent me through the air, and the place that I landed was so far from the field that I had to get a train back. One of the players came to me and said. “ Spouty, what time did we kick off” I said, “One o’clock.” He said, “Well, it’s now a quarter to six; it must be near half-time. I said, “ What the score?” He said. “Blue points a shilling. Natives will run dearer.” Then a fellow jumped on me and all the others did the same. Fancy. I was lying there with all the other players on top of me. Somebody said, “The other side’s pressing.” I said, “ I think they are.” Then the wife came on the field with my dinner, and brought the children to bid me good-bye. The wife asked me to give her a bit of my jersey to remember me by, so I told her if she wanted my jersey she would have to ask the other side, as they had it all. Then a lot of fellows started digging round the sides of the field, so I asked the referee who they were, and he said, “ They are gravediggers.” Now, that’s very cheering news, so I went to tell our half-back about it and then they told me the worst. He was killed ten minutes after we started, and his last words were, “ I hope the goalkeeper in the next world is like Spouty. That is the only chance of me getting through.” After we&r

George Gilby

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