Also known as Brian Trautman
Wrestling Heritage welcomes memories, further information and corrections.
Not the most famous or successful of wrestlers but we are certain that just the mention of his name brings a smile to the faces of those who watched Lord Bertie Topham wrestle.
Wrestling codology told fans he was “a real live millionaire.” Whilst the the statement was manifestly nonsense Lord Bertie was all part of wrestling’s rich tapestry, and what an enjoyable and precious part of that tapestry he was.
Wrestler Al Marquette told us that although he rarely watched other wrestlers in the ring there were two that could entice him out of the dressing room, Kendo Nagasaki and Lord Bertie Topham. Topham was no Nagasaki. But then Nagasaki was no Topham. Yet both were innovative, colourful, entertaining and reviled by the fans.
Eddie Rose was another colleague with fond memories, “Lord Bertie was one of my favourites after a shaky start. I worked for him on a bill at some out-of-the-way agricultural show in mid Cheshire. He blithely paid me by cheque at about £2 over the going rate. I was too new and nervous to challenge him and waited with misgivings for a week for the thing to clear, which it did to my great relief.
He always addressed me as ‘Edward’ rather than Eddie in his laconic way and booked me on his shows with some frequency. I lost track of Bertie after I gave up wrestling. However, I was in Blackpool, walking round the junction of Waterloo Road and Lytham Road one day and I heard a familiar voice call out ‘Ah Rose! How are you Edward my boy?’ It was none other than Bertie. We had a chat about how life was treating us and away he sauntered. Same old Topham, but a couple of weeks later I heard, sadly, that he had passed away.”
Lord Bertie, complete with top hat, cane, monocle and cloak would walk unhurriedly to the ring, nurturing every second of the fans’ hostility. He was accompanied by his faithful valet, Ponsonby, dressed just as immaculately in pin striped trousers, tailcoat, bowler hat and white gloves. The valet carried a silver tray, decanter and wine glass, his Lordship’s refreshments between rounds.
Once in the ring Ponsonby would titivate his Lord’s corner post, dusting it down with the silk cloth produced from his pocket, preparing it for his Lordship’s arrival. Ponsonby would make it his business to check the cleanliness of the referee, often demanding that he washed his hands in the water that he provided. Having folded his master’s coat and returned it safely to the dressing room Ponsonby would return to the ring to fulfil the remainder of his duties, which were caring for his master between rounds and interfering with the bout at every opportunity.
With some inevitability Lord Bertie would grab his opponent in a headlock, thrust his head through the ropes and Ponsonby would oblige by clobbering him with the silver tray. “It didn’t hurt at all,” testified Les Prest. Apart from such antics, the wrestling itself was pretty routine stuff, a rule bending heavyweight who generated a huge amount of animosity from the fans.
Of course Lord Bertie hadn’t been born into Royalty. Nor had it been thrust upon him. He grabbed it. Lord Bertie was an evolution of his initial wrestling persona. An expose in the People newspaper in July 1965 claimed he was Brian Trautman of Manchester. Brian Trautman was t hename when he made his 1956 debut. Trautman was a “villainous German,” no mention being made of his day job painting the huge oil containers at Stanlow oil refinery. Even in those days Brian gave more than a hint of things to come as he entered the ring wearing a scarlet and cream cloak, fastened with a gold neck chain and wearing silver boots. One newspaper did uncharitably lament that his wrestling was not as colourful as his costume.
Our earliest record of Brian Trautman wrestling is in May, 1957, though he said he had started a year earlier. That 1957 match was at Hanley working for Wryton Promotions. We found him working for Wryton and Dale Martin against opponents that included Arthur Ricardo, Alf Cadman and Black Butcher Johnson before moving to the independent promoters in May 1958.
The move to the opposition promoters suited him. The greater freedom of working for the independents brought the opportunity for a new persona. It wasn’t a huge step. It just needed a cane, a monocle and a top hat to transform a Teutonic tearaway into an anarchical aristocrat. And the addition of his faithful servant, Ponsonby, of course.
Although Ponsonby was the servant usually accompanying Lord Bertie there were exceptions. Willoughby, Mahoney and Fothergill were names used occasionally, and following the November, 1960 prosecution of Penguin Books for the publication of Lady Chatterley’s Topham introduced a new assistant, a masked Gamekeeper Mellors.
Eddie Rose again, “Not a top class wrestler but a top class ring personality and suited to the shows on which he regularly appeared. He was never short of work and in his heyday he worked six nights a week and sometime twice a night. Bertie was a bill topper at the first Independent show I watched; Marple Baths just outside Stockport. His valet, Ponsonby, was Alec Burton who later made a name for himself as a good wrestler”
Through the years the role of Ponsonby was played by a number of men. Another one told us, “I was Ponsonby, manservant to Lord Bertie Topham in the late 1960s. I was a Law student at the time at Manchester University. I met Lord Bertie in a pub, the College Arms, on the corner of Brunswick Street and Oxford Road. He offered me the part time job. I was given some basic training in how to land safely when body slammed etc. My job was to act like a short-arsed, snotty-nosed ponce who mocked and sneered at his opponents, and the spectators. Much to the annoyance of the spectators I would sneer at the opponent and inspect his boots making out that he had something ‘unlawful’ in the lacing. By now the ringside was going hysterical with anger and at that point Lord Bertie emerged.”
Promoter Graham Brook added, “There were several Ponsonbys and one of them was jazz promoter Ernie Garside. Through his work in jazz promoting Ernie had met Topham on the Manchester club scene and was a bit of a ‘personality’ so enjoyed the idea of being Ponsonby until the reality of being attacked and abused by punters hit home.”
Wrestling enthusiast Ballymoss said, “The only occasion I saw Lord Bertie live was at a packed to capacity Acton Town Hall where ‘his Lordship’ was assisted by his valet, Ponsonby. Whether he was the original Ponsonby I have no idea, but he fulfilled his role admirably using every trick imaginable to foil Lord Bertie’s opponent. This duo made the atmosphere electric…. for sheer entertainment there have been few to match the wonderful Lord Bertie Topham.”
When not wrestling Lord Bertie managed the Beach Club in Whitworth Street, Manchester, and under the Euro Sport banner promoted his own wrestling shows and managed around fifty exotic female artistes! All in the best possible taste of course.
Eddie Rose again, “Bertie was a top class gent and is fondly remembered by those who knew him.”
Lord Bertie Topham died on 14th April 1996.
Page added 07/05/2023
Wrestling Heritage 