THE CHARM OF WILTON'S MUSIC HALL

The Entrance to Wilton's Music hall

Wilton's is the oldest of London's music halls. It was built in the 1850's at the back of The Prince of Denmark bar, in Graces Alley, in the East End. The bar itself is still functional and, though sadly now stripped of what were once famed mahogany fittings, it is still a wonderful place to go and have a drink, either before a performance or simply as a venue in which to sit and meet with friends.

The hall - which was known as the Temple of Apollo - is an intimate, long, rectangular space. The floor rakes down towards a stage which is deliberately low, encouraging the audience to fully engage with any performances. Around the walls there are arched niches, once filled with the sheen of mirrors, and the high vaulted ceiling boasted a sun-burner chandelier which held hundreds of jets and dripped with thousands of glass crystals. (There are scorch marks on the ceiling from the time when it actually burst into flames.) And still in perfect condition are the brass barley-twist pillars which support a balcony fronted with ornate friezes made of papier mache.

John Wilton produced a variety of shows, often with over a thousand crammed into the hall licensed to hold 300. Sometimes he lured singers from the Royal Opera House, who would still be in their stage costume as they jumped into Broughams, to be driven at breakneck speed across town to perform their arias again - and to a lively audience! There would be circus acts, ventriloquists, and dancers on the bills, but most famous of all as far as Wilton's was concerned was the singer, George Leybourne - otherwise known as Champagne Charlie, after his popular song.

After John Wilton's death in 1880, the hall grew less salubrious. It was then better known as the haunt of prostitutes, sailors, dockers and thieves, with many naive punters being robbed, even found dead with a knife in their backs. By 1888, the theatre was closed down and re-opened in the guise of a Methodist Mission hall - where Soup and Salvation was served for free, and no doubt to many people who had previously paid for entertainments.

During the dockers' strike of 1889, the Mission provided 2,000 meals a day for the starving workers, and in 1936, the hall was used as the headquarters for those who sought to demonstrate against Mosley and his fascists in the Battle of Cable Street.

Today, this atmospheric and crumbling hall of wonders has been re-opened as a theatre. With a Grade II* listed status it will now be preserved for future generations. I guarantee if you visit you will emerge entirely charmed, and you will see what it was about Wilton's Music Hall that so inspired the opening of my novel, The Somnambulist,

Addendum: For more contemporary images and a lovely article on Wilton's Music Hall, do visit London Insight.