In its new display on domestic keyboard instruments, ‘At Home With Music’, the Horniman Museum has been making something of a piano of the type taken to the Antarctic by Robert Falcon Scott on his first expedition, the British National Antarctic Expedition (also known as the Discovery expedition) of 1901-4.
As I’ve been reading Scott’s account of the expedition, The Voyage of the Discovery, when I’ve been away from home (my copy – 2 vols, London etc: Thomas Nelson & Sons, undated – is conveniently pocket-sized), I thought I’d publish the references which Scott makes to the use of the piano, and events at which it must have been employed.
Describing life on board the expedition’s ship Discovery during their first winter, frozen into the end of McMurdo Sound just off Hut Point on Ross island, Scott wrote:
With the care of the ship’s work, the maintenance of the various [scientific] instruments in good working order, and many a stray task, it can be imagined that [Royds, our first lieutenant] has few idle hours. But one at least he finds – that immediately before dinner, when he goes to the piano and plays it, sometimes with and sometimes without the aid of the pianola; in either case we others in our various cabins have the pleasure of listening to excellent music, and feel that the debt of gratitude we owe to our only musician is no light one. This hour of music has become an institution which none of us would willingly forego. I don’t know what thoughts it brings to others, though I can readily guess; but of such things one does not care to write. I can well believe, however, that our music smooths over many a ruffle and brings us to dinner each night in that excellent humour, when all seem good-tempered, though ‘cleared for action’ and ready for fresh argument. (Vol I, p. 274)
Although the expedition was housed on the Discovery, they built a hut on Ross Island to serve as a storehouse and additional accommodation.
The hut also had other uses:
The idea of requisitioning our large hut as a place of entertainment had occurred to us early in the winter, and in this connection it was first used for a concert given during the first week in May . Royds, who took much pain in getting up this function, arranged a long programme in order to bring forth all the available talent; but although we were not inclined to be critical of our amusements, one was fain to confess that our company had not been chosen for their musical attainments. (Vol. I, pp. 328-9)
Undeterred by this apparent lack of talent, the expedition’s members proceeded to put on a play in the hut, renamed the ‘Royal Terror Theatre’ (after one of the two mountains on Ross Island) for the occasion, on 25 June 1902. Scott quotes from his diary:
Presently the curtain rolls up and discloses Royds at the piano and the first singers in true concert attitude. We have a duet, followed by several solos, and occasionally a rousing chorus, when one rather fears that the roof of the Royal Terror Theatre will rise. On the whole the first part passes decorously …. (Vol. I, p. 330)
The success of the play led to further plans for entertainment:
… later on, … Royds undertook to organise a nigger minstrel troupe, and towards the end of the winter succeeded in getting them together and in rehearsing their various parts through many a cold hour spent in the freezing theatre.
(Needless to say, the terminology is Scott’s, reflecting the culture of his day and the popularity of ‘minstrel troupes’.)
On August 6 , the date fixed for this performance, we were in the midst of a cold snap, but although the temperature had fallen below -40º [F, = -40º C], it was decided that the programme should be carried out as intended.
Scott again quotes from his diary:
To-night the doors of the Royal Terror Theatre opened at 7.30, and as the temperature was -40º and there was a strong wind, everybody did his best to make a record in reaching it. Even inside the temperature was well below zero; I wonder how the ordinary theatre-goer would appreciate sitting in the stalls under such conditions. …
As everyone knows, a nigger minstrel performance consists of songs and choruses, between which the ball of conversation is kept rolling amongst the various minstrels in the form of weighty conundrums, which, after numerous futile attempts from others, are usually answered by the propounder himself. …
To-night the choruses and plantation songs led by Royds were really well sung, and they repay him for the very great pains he has taken in the rehearsals. Of course in the choruses of “Marching through Georgia,” “Golden Slippers,” “Suwanee [sic] River,” and such songs, the audience felt that they must also “lend a hand,” and did so with such a will that the rafters shook. (Vol. I, pp. 331-3)
There’s a picture of the minstrel troupe in the online catalogue of the Scott Polar Research Institute’s picture library.
The piano also featured in the expedition’s second mid-winter day celebrations, on 23 June 1903. Scott quotes from his diary:
After dinner we felt we must have some novelty, so someone suggested a dance. The table was got out of the way, Royds went to the piano, and the rest of us assembled for a set of lancers, one of the most uproarious in which I have ever indulged. Then came cock-fighting and tugs of war, and altogether we had as festive an evening as we have ever spent. (Vol. II, p. 182)
I’ve also been reading Reading George Seaver’s 1933 biography of the expedition’s assistant surgeon, vertebrate zoologist and artist, E. A. Wilson (Edward Wilson of the Antarctic: naturalist and friend (John Murray: London, 1933)). I was interested to discover there a little more about Royds as a musician. Presumably basing himself on Wilson’s diaries, Seaver described how:
The pianola was in constant use except when Royds, the only musician, played from the great composers (Wilson delighted in such music – Chopin especially – and constantly refers to Royds’ playing with gratitude), or when concerts were arranged at which these two friends invariably sang duets. (p. 96-97)
I must admit that the references in both sources to the pianola are confusing – the Horniman’s Cramer portable piano does not, as far as I know, also work as a pianola. I’ve had a look through photographs from the Discovery expedition which have been published online – but alas, I’ve not been able to find one showing the actual piano or a pianola used by Captain Scott on this occasion, which might help clear the matter up.
11 thoughts on “Captain Scott’s piano”
Hello Rupert – hope you’re well. Just wondered if you knew that this piano was now in the care of Sir Richard Eyre (ex-National Theatre), who is Charles Royds’s grandson? He talked about it once in a newspaper interview.
Yes, Scott indeed did take a piano player (a pianola), on one of his expeditions.
Many years ago at the start of the Internet, I found an amateur website whose author detailed one particular voyage and it had photographs showing the piano being offloaded from the ship onto the ice. You could clearly see the make and model, John Broadwood & Sons. It was the identical model to one in my possession.
At that time I was looking for a repairer as the bellows were losing air pressure.
In the end I didn’t have it repaired and it’s still in my sitting room being lovingly played by my daughter when she visits. Unfortunately the cost of the repair was very great but I still dream one day of having it renovated by a specialist company in Birmingham.
If you wish to know more about the pianola, the story by which I was given it is very interesting, I’m happy for you to contact me.
Carmela, thank you. Yes, just before you wrote I finally started reading Edward Wilson’s Discovery diary, and there are frequent references there to the pianola – until it died. It was the instrument Wilson preferred to play. I’m collecting references to the piano, pianola, harmonium, and general music-playing in the diaries as I go, and I’ll try and add something about them here (or on another post) in due course.
Hi Rupert, yes that would be interesting. I wish I’d taken a screen grab of that photograph of the pianola being offloaded onto the ice.
I was given the pianola many years ago in Southampton. I have just discovered, and now believe, that it’s a possibility that I might have Scott’s original pianola because…
The RRS Discovery set sail from the Isle of Wight on the 6th August 1901, and reached Antarctica five months later on the 8th January 1902.
https://www.historic-uk.com › Scott-…
Scott of the Antarctic – Historic UK
Could it be?
I have one of these pianolas in new Zealand the same and wood like to know about it and Capt Scott was here thanks
Ian, I’m afraid I don’t have the time just now to prepare anything more detailed, but if you can find a copy of Edward Adrian Wilson, Diary of the Discovery Expedition to the Antarctic, ed. by Savours, Ann (1966), you’ll find references to the pianola on pp. 48, 111, 119, 121,126, 178, 193, 197, 202, 203, 205, 208, 258, 285 and 376. They’re mostly references to it being played – or not working very well.
I am researching the pianola for an article in the Newsletter of the Australian Collectors of Mechanical Musical Instruments and would be interested to receive information about the pianola referred to by Carmela Jones.
Dear Mr Welch
How can I help with your article? For example, I can tell you the story of how I came to be given the pianola aged 10, send you photos as it is now and information written on and inside, plus measurements.
Let me know.
I fear that the Cramer piano at Horniman’s Museum (about three miles round the South Circular from where I live), was definitiely not taken by Captain Scott to the Antarctic. It’s simply a case of a museum rumour being turned into vague reality by being expressed in print.
There were two expeditions southwards, from 1901 to 1904, and from 1910 to 1913, and on both occasions the pianos were Broadwoods, each presented by the firm itself. In addition, for the earlier expedition, a 65-note push-up Pianola manufactured by the Aeolian Company was used, having been donated by Lady Baxter of Dundee. The piano for the second voyage had a built-in player mechanism, installed by Broadwoods themselves, but originating (at least in design) in the USA, where the mechanism had been patented by Peter Welin.
You can find a very detailed account of the adventures and usage of each instrument on our (the Pianola Institute’s) website at http://www.pianola.org/history/history_pianolists.cfm#scott, towards the bottom of the rather long page, since the various pianolists appear in alphabetical order. Please note that the website is not designated https, since I haven’t got round to it, but it doesn’t bite!
Rex, thanks. To be fair, the Horniman were only saying their ‘yacht’ piano was ‘of the same type’ as the Discovery piano – but as your very interesting web page makes clear, ‘type’ doesn’t seem to run as far as ‘same manufacturer’. But I do notice an interesting reference in Wilson’s Discovery diary (entry for Sunday 1 September 1901) to prayers on deck, accompanied by Royds at ‘the pianette which is always brought up’, which perhaps suggests an additional instrument, smaller than a standard upright, which could be brought on deck more easily? (I’m mindful of the fate of the Morning’s piano, which had to be sawn apart before it could be taken down to the wardroom during the first Discovery Relief Expedition – apparently without any lasting ill effects.)
Good evening Rupert!
I’ve updated the Pianola Institute article about antarctic and arctic pianos and pianolas. I found a photograph of the Broadwood piano and the push-up Pianola in the wardroom of the RRS Discovery as part of a Broadwood advertisement in November 1904. The piano still exists, and belongs nowadays to Sir Richard Eyre, the well-known theatre director, who is Royds’ grandson. It’s a smallish upright, but it has 85 notes, which was normal for the period, and it doesn’t have a folding keyboard. I’ve expanded the Scott article to include details and photos of other expedition pianos and player pianos, including those that entertained Amundsen, Lieutenant Peary (arctic) and a German antarctic survey in 1911, which had a piano and rolls from Leipzig. This is the weblink:
I once had to saw the horizontal parts of some piano legs off, in order to get the instrument downstairs from the flat where I lived, just down the road from the Horniman museum, in fact. But I drilled out both sides of the joins and put in thick metal rods, and it is still working fine, some forty years later!
Best wishes, Rex Lawson