Part 106

A recent writer, evidently well acquainted with the manners of the period, introduces us to a character mentioned in a former sheet. “In the midst of all, the public attention was attracted to a tall, well-made, and handsome-looking man, who was dressed in a very fashionable suit of white, trimmed with gold lace, a laced ruffled shirt, rolled white silk stockings, a white apron, and a large cocked hat, formed of gingerbread, fringed and garnished with Dutch gold. He carried on his arm a basket filled with gingerbread cakes, one of which he held up in the air; while the other hand was stuck with an easy and fashionable manner into his bosom. For this singular vendor of confectionary every one made way, and numbers followed in his train, shouting after him, ‘there goes Tiddy Doll!’ the name by which that remarkable character was known. He himself did not pass silently through the crowd, but as he went along, he poured forth a multiplicity of praises of his ware, occasionally enlivened by that song which first procured him his name.” This was at the Fair of the year 1740 concerning which the same illustrator thus continues: “The multitude behind was impelled violently forwards, a broad blaze of red light, issuing from a score of flambeaux, streamed into the air; several voices were loudly shouting, ‘room there for prince George! make way for the prince!’ and there was that long sweep heard to pass over the ground, which indicates the approach of a grand and ceremonious train. Presently the pressure became much greater, the voices louder, the light stronger, and as the train came onward, it might be seen that it consisted, firstly, of a party of yeomen of the guards clearing the way; then several more of them bearing flambeaux, and flanking the procession; while in the midst of all appeared a tall, fair, and handsome young man, having something of a plump foreign visage, seemingly about four and thirty years of age, dressed in a ruby-coloured frock coat, very richly guarded with gold lace, and having his long flowing hair curiously curled over his forehead and at the sides, and finished with a very large bag and courtly queue behind. The air of dignity with which he walked, the blue ribbon, and star and garter with which he was decorated, the small three-cornered silk court hat which he wore, whilst all around him were uncovered; the numerous suite, as well of gentlemen as of guards, which marshalled him along, the obsequious attention of a short stout person, who by his flourishing manner seemed to be a player,--all these particulars indicated that the amiable Frederick, prince of Wales was visiting Bartholomew Fair by torchlight, and that manager Rich was introducing his royal guest to all the entertainments of the place. However strange this circumstance may appear to the present generation, yet it is nevertheless strictly true; for about 1740, when the drolls in Smithfield were extended to three weeks and a month, it was not considered as derogatory to persons of the first rank and fashion, to partake in the broad humour and theatrical amusements of the place. It should also be remembered, that many an eminent performer of the last century, unfolded his abilities in a booth; and that it was once considered, as an important and excellent preparative to their treading the boards of a theatre-royal.” One of the players is thus represented as informing a spectator concerning the occupation of an itinerant actor:--“I will, as we say, take you behind the scenes. First then, a valuable actor must sleep in the pit, and wake early to sweep the theatre, and throw fresh sawdust into the boxes; he must shake out the dresses, and wind up and dust the motion-jacks; he must teach the dull ones how to act, rout up the idlers from the straw, and redeem those that happen to get into the watch-house. Then, sir, when the Fair begins, he should sometimes walk about the stage grandly, and show his dress: sometimes he should dance with his fellows; sometimes he should sing; sometimes he should blow the trumpet; sometimes he should laugh and joke with the crowd, and give them a kind of a touch-and-go speech, which keep them merry, and makes them come in. Then, sir, he should sometimes cover his state robe with a great coat, and go into the crowd, and shout opposite his own booth, like a stranger who is struck with its magnificence: by the way, sir, that’s a good trick, I never knew it fail to make an audience; and then he has only to steal away, mount his stage, and strut, and dance, and sing, and trumpet, and roar over again.”[290]

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An advertisement in the “London Gazette” of April the 13th, 1682, shows under what authority showmen and similar persons “labour in their vocation:”--

“Whereas Mr. John Clarke, of London, bookseller, did rent of Charles Killigrew, Esq. the licensing of all ballad-singers for five years; which time is expired at Lady-day next. These are, therefore, to give notice to all ballad-singers, that they take out licences at the office of the revels, at Whitehall, for singing and selling of ballads, and small books, according to an ancient custom. And all persons concerned are hereby desired to take notice of, and to suppress all mountebanks, rope-dancers, prize-players, ballad-singers, and such as make show of motions and strange sights, that have not a licence in red and black letters, under the hand and seal of the said Charles Killigrew, Esq. master of the revels to his majesty;” and in particular it requires them to suppress two, one of them being “Thomas Teats mountebank,” who have no licence “that they may be proceeded against according to law.”

The late John Charles Crowle, Esq. who bequeathed his illustrated copy of “Pennant’s London” to the British Museum, which he valued at 5000_l._ was master of the revels. In that quality he claimed a seat in any part of the theatres, and being opposed by the manager of the little theatre in the Haymarket, maintained his right. He was also trumpet-major of England, to whom every one who blows a trumpet publicly (excepting those of the theatres-royal) must pay a certain sum, and therefore the office has jurisdiction of all the merry-andrews and jack-puddings of every Fair throughout England. The office of master of the revels was created under Henry VIII. in 1546. The identical seal of the office used under five sovereigns, was engraved on wood, and is in the possession of Francis Douce, Esq. F.S.A., who permitted impressions of it to be inserted first by Mr. Chalmers in his “Apology for the believers in the Shakspeare MSS.,” and next by Mr. J. T. Smith, of the British Museum, in his “Ancient Topography of London:” the legend on it is “Sigill: Offic: Jocor: Mascar: et Revell: Dnis. Reg.” Mr. Chalmers’s work also contains the “arms of the revels.”[291]

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Mr. J. T. Smith was informed by Mr. Thomas Batrich, an ancient barber of Drury-lane, that Mr. Garrick shortly after his marriage conducted Mrs. Garrick to Yates and Shuter’s booth; Garrick being rudely pushed called upon his bill-sticker, old Palmer, who had been engaged to receive the money at the entrance of the booth, for protection. Palmer, though a very strong man, professed himself sorry he could not serve him in Smithfield; alleging that few people there knew Garrick off the stage. One of the merry-andrews who attended on the quack doctors was so much superior to the rest of his profession for wit and gesture, that he was noticed by all ranks of people. Between the seasons he sold gingerbread nuts about Covent-garden, and was the most polite and quiet vendor of the article in London; for to keep up his value at fairs, where he had a guinea a day for his performance besides presents from the multitude, he would never laugh or notice a joke when a dealer in nuts.

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Mr. Edward Oram, who died at Hampstead in his seventy-third year, and was buried at Hendon, was intimate with Hogarth in his youth, and introduced him, soon after he left his master, to the proprietors of Drury-lane theatre, where he and Oram painted scenes conjointly, for several years, and were employed by a famous woman, who kept a droll in Bartholomew Fair to paint a splendid set of scenes. The agreement particularly specified that the scenes were to be gilt; but instead of leaf gold being used, they were covered in the usual way with Dutch metal: the mistress of the drolls declared the contract to be broken, and refused to pay for the scenes.[292]

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Without going into a history of Bartholomew Fair, it may be remarked that in 1778 it was attended by a foreigner, who exhibited serpents that danced on silk ropes to the sound of music. In 1782, the late Mrs. Baker, proprietor of the Rochester theatre, brought here her company of comedians as “show-folk.” In four successive years, from 1779 to 1780, Mr. Hall of the City-road, eminent for his skill in the preservation of deceased animals, exhibited at the Fair his fine collection of stuffed birds and beasts, which he exhibited for many years before and afterwards at his own house. To obtain notice to it in Smithfield, he engaged sir Jeffery Dunstan to give his imitations in crying “old wigs;” but the mob were no admirers of “still life:” at Hall’s last visit they drew his fine zebra round the Fair; from thenceforth sir Jeffery’s imitations ceased to draw, and Hall came no more.

The exhibitions of living animals at this Fair have been always attractive. Hither came the “illustrious” Pidcock, with his wild beasts, and to him succeeded the “not less illustrious” Polito.

Hither also came the formerly famous, and still well-remembered Astley, with his “equestrian troop,” and his learned horse. These feats were the admiration of never-ceasing audiences, and to him succeeded Saunders with like success.

_Puppet Shows._

Flockton was the last eminent “motion-master” at Bartholomew Fair. He was himself a good performer, and about 1790 his wooden puppets were in high vogue. He brought them every year till his death, which happened at Peckham, where he resided in a respectable way, upon a handsome competence realized by their exhibition at this and the principal fairs in the country. Flockton’s “Punch” was a very superior one to the present street show. He had trained a Newfoundland dog to fight his puppet, representing the devil, whom he always conquered in due time, and then ran away with him.

A puppet-show, or play performed by puppets, was anciently called a “_motion_;” and sometimes, in common talk, a single puppet was called “a motion.” These were very favourite spectacles. In the times of the papacy, the priests at Witney, in Oxfordshire, annually exhibited a show of _The Resurrection_, &c. by garnishing out certain small puppets representing the persons of Christ, Mary, and others. Amongst them, one in the character of a waking watchman, espying Christ to arise, made a continual noise, like the sound caused by the meeting of two sticks, and was therefore commonly called _Jack Snacker of Wytney_. Lambarde, when a child, saw a like puppet in St. Paul’s cathedral, London, at the feast of Whitsuntide; where the descent of the Holy Ghost was performed by a white pigeon being let fly out of a hole in the midst of the roof of the great aisle, with a long censer, which descending from the same place almost to the ground, was swung up and down at such a length, that it reached with one sweep almost to the west-gate of the church, and with the other to the choir stairs, breathing out over the whole church and the assembled multitude a most pleasant perfume, from the sweet things that burnt within it. Lambarde says, that they everywhere used the like _dumb-shows_, to furnish sundry parts of the church service with spectacles of the nativity, passion, and ascension.

There may be added to the particulars of a former exhibition, a puppet-showman’s bill at the British Museum, which announces scriptural subjects in the reign of Anne, as follows: “At Crawley’s booth, over against the Crown Tavern, in Smithfield, during the time of _Bartholomew Fair_, will be presented a little opera, called _the Old Creation of the World_, yet newly revived; with the addition of _Noah’s Flood_; also several fountains playing water during the time of the play. The last scene does present Noah and his family coming out of the ark, with all the beasts two by two, and all the fowls of the air seen in a prospect sitting upon trees; likewise over the ark is seen the sun rising in a glorious manner: moreover a multitude of angels will be seen in a double rank which presents a double prospect, one for the sun, the other for a palace, where will be seen _six angels ringing of bells_. Likewise machines descend from above, double and treble, with _Dives rising out of hell, and Lazarus seen in Abraham’s bosom_, besides several figures dancing jigs, sarabands, and country dances, to the admiration of the spectators; with the merry conceits of _Squire Punch, and Sir John Spendall_.”

These “motions” or puppet-shows were fashionable at this period in other places, and among fashionable people.

In the “Tatler” of May 14, 1709, there is an account of a puppet-show in a letter from Bath, describing the rivalry of Prudentia and Florimel, two ladies at that watering-place. Florimel bespoke the play of “Alexander the Great,” to be acted by the company of strollers on Thursday evening, and the letter-writer accepted the lady’s invitation to be of her party; but he says, “Prudentia had counterplotted us, and had bespoke on the same evening, the puppet-show of the _Creation of the World_. She had engaged every body to be there; and to turn our leader into ridicule, had secretly let them know that the puppet _Eve_ was made the most like Florimel that ever was seen. On Thursday morning the puppet-drummer, with Adam and Eve, and several others that lived before the flood, passed through the streets on horseback to invite us all to the pastime; and Mr. Mayor was so wise as to prefer these innocent people, the puppets, who he said were to represent christians, before the wicked players who were to show Alexander an heathen philosopher. When we came to _Noah’s_ flood in the show, _Punch_ and his wife were introduced dancing in the ark. Old Mrs. Petulant desired both her daughters to mind the moral; then whispered to Mrs. Mayoress, ’this is very proper for young people to see,’ Punch at the end of the play made Madame Prudentia a bow, and was very civil to the whole company, making bows till his buttons touched the ground.” Sir Richard Steele in the “Spectator” of March 16, 1711, intimates that Powell, the puppet-showman, exhibited religious subjects with his puppets, under the little piazza in Covent-garden; and talks of “his next opera of _Susannah_, or _Innocence Betrayed_, which will be exhibited next week with a pair of new _elders_.”

It is observed in a small pamphlet,[293] that “music forms one of the grand attractions of the Fair, and a number of itinerant musicians meet with constant employment at this time.” A band at the west-end of the town, well known for playing on winter evenings before the Spring-garden coffee-house, and opposite Wigley’s great exhibition-room, consisted of a double drum, a Dutch organ, the tambourine, violin pipes, and the Turkish jingle, used in the army. This band was generally hired at one of the first booths in the Fair; but the universal noise arising from so many other discordant instruments, with the cry of “show them in! just going to begin!” prevented their being attended to.

The pamphlet referred to mentions the performances by a family of tumblers, who went about with a large caravan, and attended all the Fairs near town; and that at the beginning of the last century, Clarke and Higgins made themselves famous for their wonderful exertions in this way. They would extend the body into all deformed shapes, stand upon one leg, and extend the other in a perpendicular line, half a yard above the head. The tumblers of the present day do not attempt such wonderful exploits, but they put their bodies into a variety of singular postures, and leap with remarkable facility.

Lane was a celebrated performer at this Fair, and had several pupils who succeeded him in practising the grand and sublime art of legerdemain, and various tricks with cards and balls. The secrets of fortune were disclosed; unmarried damsels were told when and to whom they were to be married; and the widow when she should strip herself of her weeds, and enter anew into matrimony; knives were run through the hand without producing blood; knives and forks swallowed as of easy digestion; and fire and sparks proceeded out of a man’s mouth as from a blacksmith’s forge.

During Bartholomew Fair there were swings without number, besides round-abouts and up-and-downs. In the latter, the “young gentleman,” with his fair partner, were elated by the undulating motion, or rather vertical rotation of the machine; and while thus in motion, could survey the busy scene around, and hear its roar. The effect cannot be described which a stranger experienced upon entering Smithfield, and beholding the immense number of these vehicles, which appeared as if soaring into the clouds.

Then too, about the year 1815, a well-known eccentric character might be seen with plum-pudding on a board, which he sold in slices. He possessed as much drollery as any mountebank in the Fair, and had as various characteristic traits of oddity. He always walked without his hat, and his hair powdered and tied _a la queue_, in a neat dress, with a clean apron: his voice, strong and forcible, made many a humorous appeal in behalf of his pudding, large quantities of which he dealt out for “ready money,” and provoked a deal of mirth by his pleasantry.

George Alexander Stevens be-rhymes the Fair in his day thus:--

Here were, first of all, crowds against other crowds driving Like wind and tide meeting, each contrary striving; Shrill fiddling, sharp fighting, and shouting and shrieking, Fifes, trumpets, drums, bagpipes, and barrow girls squeaking-- “Come my rare round and sound, here’s choice of fine ware!” Though all was not sound sold at Bartelmew Fair. Here were drolls, hornpipe-dancing, and showing of postures, With frying black puddings, and opening of oysters; With salt-boxes, solos, and galley folks squalling, The tap-house guests roaring, and mouth-pieces bawling. Here’s “Punch’s whole play of the gunpowder plot,” “Wild beasts all alive,” and “peas pudding all hot.” “Fine sausages” fried, and “the Black on the wire,” “The whole court of France,” and “nice pig at the fire.” Here’s the up-and-downs, “who’ll take a seat in the chair?” Tho’ there’s more up-and-downs than at Bartelmew Fair. Here’s “Whittington’s cat,” and “the tall dromedary,” “The chaise without horses,” and “queen of Hungary.” Here’s the merry-go-rounds, “Come who rides, come who rides, sir,” Wine, beer, ale, and cakes, fire eating besides, sir, The fam’d “learned dog,” that can tell all his letters, And some _men_, as _scholars_, are not much his betters.

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Before the commencement of the last century, Bartholomew Fair had become an intolerable nuisance, and the lord mayor and aldermen, to abate its depravity, issued a prohibition on the 25th of June, 1700, against its lotteries and interludes. Subsequent feints of resistance were made to its shows, music, and other exhibitions, without further advantage than occasional cessation of gross violations against the public peace.

In sir Samuel Fludyer’s mayoralty, interludes were prohibited by a resolution of the court of aldermen. This resolution has been annually put forth, and annually broken by the court itself. When alderman Bull filled the civic chair, he determined to carry the resolution into effect, and so far accomplished his purpose as not to allow any booths to be erected; but want of firmness in his predecessors had inspirited the mob, and they broke the windows of the houses in Smithfield. Alderman Sawbridge in his mayoralty was equally determined against shows, and the mob was equally determined for them; he persisted, and they committed similar excesses. Yet we find that in the year 1743, the resolution had been complied with. The city would not permit booths to be erected, and “the Fair terminated in a more peaceable manner than it had done in the memory of man.”[294] This quiet, however, was only temporary, for on the 23rd of August, 1749, a gallery in Phillips’s booth broke down, and four persons were killed; a silversmith, a plasterer, a woman, and a child, and many others were dangerously bruised; one of the maimed had his leg cut off the next morning.[295] This accident seems to have aroused the citizens: on the 10th of July, 1750, a petition was presented to the lord mayor and court of aldermen, signed by above one hundred graziers, salesmen, and inhabitants in and near Smithfield, against erecting booths for exhibiting shows and entertainments there, during Bartholomew Fair, as not only annoying to them in their callings, but as giving the profligate and abandoned opportunity to debauch the innocent, defraud the unwary, and endanger the public peace.[296]

On the 17th of July, 1798, the court of common council referred it to the committee of city lands, to consider the necessity and expediency of abolishing Bartholomew Fair: in the course of the previous debate it was proposed to shorten the period to one day, but this was objected to on the ground that the immense crowd from all parts of the metropolis would endanger life.[297]

In September, 1825, Mr. Alderman Joshua Jonathan Smith, previous to entering on an examination of forty-five prisoners charged with felonies, misdemeanours, assaults, &c. committed in Smithfield during the Fair of that year, stated, that its ancient limits had been extended into several adjoining streets beyond Smithfield; he said he had particularly noticed this infringement in St. John-street, Clerkenwell on the north side, and nearly half-way down the Old Bailey, on the south; and he was determined, with the aid of his coadjutors, to take such further steps as would in future “lessen the criminal extension which had arisen, if not abolish the degrading scene altogether.”[298]

At other periods besides these, there were loud complaints against Bartholomew Fair; and as in 1825, the corporation of London appears seriously to have been engaged in considering the nuisance, its end may be contemplated as near at hand. It is to the credit of the civic authorities, that though shows and interludes were permitted, the Fair of that year was more orderly than any other within memory. Yet even these regulations are inefficient to the maintenance of the reputation the city ought to hold in the estimation of other corporations. The Fair was instituted for the sale of cloth, cattle, and other necessary commodities: as these have, for many years past, wholly disappeared from it, the _use_ of the Fair has wholly ceased; its _abuse_ alone remains, and that abuse can only be destroyed by the utter extinction of the Fair. To do this is not to “interfere with the amusements of the people,” for the people of the metropolis do not require such amusements; they are beyond the power of deriving recreation from them. The well-being of their apprentices and servants, and the young and the illiterate, require protection from the vicious contamination of an annual scene of debauchery, which contributes nothing to the city funds, and nothing to the city’s character but a shameful stain.

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