Peacocks

Ever had a shouting match with a peacock before? I have. It was when I was involved in a community opera at a big old house outside Tunbridge Wells called Broomhill. It had a fascinating history, being owned Sir David Salomons, who in the mid 19th century became the first Jewish MP. His son was a bit of a polymath, and he built himself a full sized theatre as an extension to his house where he used to put on science demonstrations. The theatre had been forgotten about for 100 years and had had just been opened up, so we were doing a show which told the story of the house and its inhabitants. It was a promenade performance, different scenes would happen in different rooms of the house, or take place outside, and the audience would troop from room to room in small groups. As a result we actors had to perform the same scene four or five times a night.

The opening scene depicted the shipwreck during the first world war in which the second David Salomon's son lost his life. A ship's fo'c'sle was built on the front lawn, around the bell which had been salvaged from the ship by the grieving father and placed in the grounds. It was all very dramatic.

Unfortunately, another legacy of the Salomons was their peacocks. They were huge stupid birds - they made pheasants look like Mastermind contestants - and they strutted around the lawns squarking at the tops of their voices as soon as the music started. The shipwreck scene would then take place, with all the drama you can muster when most people's attention is on the birds that are drowning your voice out.

I don't know where Smith and Chumley got their tail feathers, but I know where they can find a few birds they can pluck...