SOUTHWARK FAIR.
"The crowded scene will please us then,
And the busy hum of men;
The Thespian throng, and champions bold,
Their jubilee of triumph hold:
With store of wenches, whose bright eyes
Rain influence, and judge the prize
Of hat or shirt,—while all contend
To catch her glance whom all commend.
Come, Sport, that wrinkled Care derides;
And Laughter, holding both his sides;
And puppet-show, and quaint device,
And Troy in flames, and rattling dice:
And Comedy, with wreathed smiles;
And Music, that dull care beguiles;
Here let the droning bagpipe be,
And there the cheerful fiddle see.
Nor be our joys to earth confin'd,—
But, light as air, swift as the wind,
Let Cadman cut the liquid sky,
And on the rope Violante fly.
Our trumpet's loud clangour
Excites not to arms;
No shrill notes of anger,
No horrid alarms,
The double, double, double beat
Of the thundering drum,
Tells—the actors are come;
Let us follow, nor think of retreat.
I'll to the well-trod stage anon,
If Settle's[97] 'cumber'd sock be on;
Or heavy Howard,[98] Folly's child,
In native nonsense soareth wild.
These joys if Southwark Fair can give,
In Southwark Fair a week I'll live."
SOUTHWARK FAIR.
At a time when martial hardihood was the only accomplishment likely to confer distinction, when war was thought to be the most honourable pursuit, and agriculture deemed the only necessary employment, there was little social intercourse, and so few retail dealers, that men had no very easy means of procuring those articles which they occasionally wanted. To remove this inconvenience, it was found necessary to establish some general mart, where they might be supplied. Fairs were therefore instituted, as a proper medium between the buyer and seller, and were at first considered as merely places of trade.[99] They were generally held on saints' days. Some of them continued open many weeks, and had peculiar privileges to encourage the attendance of those who had goods upon sale. The pedlar travelled from city to city, or from town to town, with his moveable warehouse, and furnished his customers with what served them until his periodical return.
As men grew more polished their wants increased, their intercourse became more general, and the importance of commerce was better understood. The merchant deposited his goods in a warehouse, and the trader opened a shop. Fairs, deserted by men of business, gradually changed their nature, and, instead of being crowded by the active and the industrious, were the haunts of the idle and the dissolute.[100] Such were they at the time of this delineation, which was made about the year 1733, and may be considered as a true picture of the holiday amusements of that period. At the head of these we must place what were than called stage-plays,—a most favourite diversion of your Englishman ever since the time
"When sweetest Shakspeare, Fancy's child,
Warbled his native woodnotes wild."
In these humble representations some of our greatest actors made their first appearance; and not a few of them, even after they had attained high eminence, ranted, strutted, and bellowed through all the days the fairs were kept open, to their own emolument, and the heartfelt pleasure of the Wapping beaux and the black-eyed beauties of Saltpetre Bank.
The play now enacting appears to be the Fall of Bajazet,[101]—and it is performed to the life; for the unsure scaffolding, not being built to bear the terror-working stamps of the furious Turk, tumbles to the ground. The tyrant's turban is shaken from his head, the truncheon is dropped from his hand, and with the moralizing Tamerlane he joins the general crash, and threatens destruction to the china jars and bowls which are beneath. Not only the heroes and heroine of the drama, but both band and musical instruments are involved in the ruin. The band, it is true, consists of—a solitary fiddler; and the instruments are—a violin and a salt-box. The monkey and the merry-andrew seem the only two animals likely to evade injury in this universal wreck. Corporeal dexterity at such a time is more useful than mental acquirements.
The Amazonian, with a hat, feather, and drum, is a beauty of Mr. Hogarth's school, belongs to a company of comedians, and is beating up for an audience. The gaping astonishment of two rustics who are looking at her is inimitably described. One of them, awe-struck by her figure, has pulled off his hat in reverence of her charms; the other "wonders with a foolish face of praise."
A buskined hero, arrayed perhaps for an Alexander, has his career of glory stopped by a sheriff's officer, who pays no respect
"To Macedonia's madman, or the Swede."
The hero puts his hand to his sword, but the bailiffs follower secures his other arm, and aims a bludgeon at his head.
A younger branch of the family of the Simples, with a whip in one hand and the other hooked on a young girl's arm, is so lost in gaping astonishment at the variety of objects around him, that he neglects his pockets, which an adroit candidate for Tyburn is clearing of their contents. While one fellow kisses a girl,[102] another endeavours to decoy her two companions. A prize-fighter, furrowed with scars, makes his triumphal entry on a blind horse, and, calling up a face of terror, and grasping his sword, hurls a proud defiance to all who dare appear as his competitors.
A juggler, in a senatorial wig, displays magic wonders with the cups and balls; and above him is a fellow with a pair of artificial legs extended on a board: one of these legs a man beneath is either attempting to break, or using as a lever to give a summerset to a tumbler, who kneels upon the other. A hat displayed on the end of a pole is the prize of the best wrestler on the green; and a holland chemise will reward the fair racer swiftest of foot.
A quack doctor, in laced hat, long periwig, and embroidered coat, mounted upon a stage and attended by his merry-andrew, dispenses his infallible medicines. To attract the notice of a gaping crowd, this iron-throated descendant of Paracelsus eats fire.
That ancient puppet-show joke of Mr. Punch's horse picking the pocket of the chequered fool of the farce, is exhibited in a balcony, on one side of which is a bout at cudgels by puppets all alive!
Under a show-cloth, which announces "The Siege of Troy[103] is here," are a company rehearsing some part of the play. By a sun upon the breast of the figure in a mitre, we know him to be the high-priest of Apollo, the venerable Chryses. While one arm of this sage of many sorrows is twined round the pole which supports the wooden horse, the other is stretched out in moving supplication, entreating the hearers to
"Relieve a wretched parent's pain,
And give Chryseïs to his arms again."
Chryseïs, however, is perfectly satisfied with her situation. Seated in all the pride of conscious beauty close to the haughty Atrides, and glorying in his protection, she prefers the lover to the parent. The inexorable chief nods his plumed crest, grasps his truncheon, and "looks with threatening brow on all around."
"No tears subdue him, no entreaties move,
He dares avenging Phœbus, son of Jove."
A little fellow with long hair, playing upon the bagpipes,[104] is attended by a dancing dog, dressed en militaire, and with his foot dances his Fantoccini figures. His Madame Catharina does not excite the attention she merits: the woman with a dice-box has superior attractions; and a country fellow, in a coat which seems to have been the Sunday habiliment of his forefathers for many generations, is trying his fortune, though earnestly dissuaded by his more prudent son from putting his pence in so perilous a situation. The woman, with that energetic eloquence which marks the orators of Billingsgate, rates the boy for daring to doubt her honesty. On the other side, a Savoyard music-grinder, with her galante show, is attended by a dwarf drummer, and collecting pence from the little people who prefer a wonderful and surprising prospect of every court in Europe to a pennyworth of gingerbread. In the distance, a set of figures have been engaged at quarter-staff, then a favourite amusement; and the conqueror, waving his flag of victory, is hoisted upon the shoulders of another man; and thus triumphantly exalted, the air echoes with loud and reiterated acclamations in honour of his prowess.
Having despatched the herd[105] of characters who people the scene on earth, I reserved to a class by themselves those who are buoyant in the air. The figure vaulting on a rope was designed for Signora Violante, who signalized herself in the reign of George I. She was followed by some inferior performers; but the science of rope-dancing and riding has now arrived at its acme, and is rising into such estimation with the public, that Dr. Johnson's prophecy may, at a future day, be wholly fulfilled in our royal theatres. In part it has been already verified:
"Perhaps where Lear has rav'd and Hamlet died,
On flying cars new sorcerers may ride;
Perhaps (for who can guess th' effects of chance?)
Here Hunt may box, or Mahomet may dance."
The man descending from a steeple represents one Cadman, who, in the memory of some persons now living, performed the same feat at St. Martin's in the Fields, from the steeple of which he descended into the Mews. In an experiment of the like nature at Shrewsbury, the rope breaking, he was dashed to pieces.
A show-cloth over the Fall of Bajazet is almost a direct copy from a very coarse etching made by John Laguerre, son of Louis Laguerre, whom Pope has immortalized for his sprawling saints. On the upper part of the print is inscribed, "The Stage Mutiny." It alludes to some disputes between the managers of Drury Lane and such of the actors as were spirited up to rebellion by Theophilus Cibber, and seceded to the Haymarket in 1733. As this made much noise in its day, it may not be unentertaining to narrate some of the circumstances which occasioned it.
The patent for Drury Lane being renewed, Mr. Booth, who found his health decline, began to think it was time to dispose of his share and interest in the theatre. The purchaser was John Highmore, Esq., a gentleman who had unhappily contracted an attachment to the stage, from having one night performed the part of Lothario for a wager.[106] He gave Booth £2500 for half his share in the property, and his whole right in the management. Mr. Wilkes had previously appointed Ellis his deputy; and Colley Cibber, extremely displeased that two strangers should be thus empowered to interfere, authorized his son to act for him in everything that concerned his share in the management. The first season ended with some profit to the new patentees; but Mr. Highmore being disgusted by the impertinence of young Cibber, determined to exonerate himself from his interference, and, for the sum of three thousand guineas, purchased the elder Cibber's right in the theatre. Two years had hardly passed before the principal actors, encouraged by Theophilus Cibber, determined to revolt from the patentee; and as the little theatre in the Haymarket was then unoccupied, agreed to rent it from the proprietor, and opened their campaign with the comedy of Love for Love, at which they were attended by an elegant and crowded audience. The patentees, though weakened by this desertion, began to act at the usual time. To supply the place of those who had left their service, they had recourse to such actors as could be procured from the itinerant companies. With all the help they could obtain, their performances were inferior to those exhibited at the Haymarket, and losses came so heavy upon Mr. Highmore, that he was under the necessity of giving up the contest, and sold the whole property to Mr. Charles Fleetwood for about half the sum he had originally paid for it.'
Upon this circumstance is built the print from which the show-cloth was copied; it probably announces the performance of a farce entitled "The Stage Mutineers, a tragi-comic farcical ballad opera, acted at Covent Garden in 1733;" which is a burlesque on the whole contest. Theophilus Cibber, who was the leader of the malcontents, is in this farce characterized by the name of Ancient Pistol, all his speeches being in that high-flown mock-heroic style with which Shakspeare has marked that boasting coward. The scene is supposed to be in the playhouse, and the time, during a rehearsal.
In 1740, a pamphlet was published for J. Mechell, at the King's Arms, Fleet Street, entitled, "An Apology for the Life of T—— C——, Comedian; being a proper sequel to the Apology for the Life of Mr. Colley Cibber; with an historical view of the stage to the present year. Supposed to be written by himself, in the style and manner of the poet-laureate:" but in reality the work of Harry Fielding. The following passage, relative to this subject, occurs in page 16, etc:—"In that year, when the stage fell into great commotions, and the Drury Lane company, asserting the glorious cause of liberty and property, made a stand against the oppressions of the patentees;—in that memorable year, when the theatric dominions fell in labour of a revolution, under the conduct of myself; that revolt gave occasion to several pieces of wit and satirical flirts at the conductor of the enterprise. I was attacked, as my father had been before me, in the public papers and journals; and the burlesque character of Pistol was attributed to me as a real one. Out came a print of Jack Laguerre's, representing, in most vile designing, this expedition of ours, under the name of 'The Stage Mutiny;' in which, gentle reader, your humble servant, in the Pistol character, was the principal figure. This I laughed at, knowing it only a proper embellishment for one of those necessary structures to which persons out of necessity repair." Again, p. 88: "At the fair of Bartholomew we gained some recruits; but, besides those advantages over the enemy, I myself went there in person, and publicly exposed myself. This was done to fling defiance in the patentees' teeth; for, on the booth where I exhibited, I hung out 'The Stage Mutiny,' with Pistol at the head of his troop; our standard bearing the motto, 'We eat.'" Whether this account which Cibber is made to give of his own conduct is entirely jocular, or contains a mixture of truth and falsehood, cannot now be ascertained. Hogarth may have transferred a circumstance from Bartholomew to Southwark Fair; or Fielding, by design, may have misrepresented it, alluding at the same time to Hogarth's print.
To return to the show-cloth. The figure seated in the corner, with his head bound with laurel, is intended to represented old Cibber, then poet-laureate. With a bag of money upon his knee, he rejoices in the sum he has realized, and laughs at those who are enduring the storm. Under his feet is inscribed "Quiet and snug." The tall, thin figure, stooping, is meant for Mr. Highmore. He holds in his hand a scroll, on which is written, "It cost 6000 pounds." He is again characterized in the figure of a monkey astride the sign-iron of the Rose Tavern, with a label, on which is written, "I am a gentleman."[107]—The man in his shirt, with a paint-pot and brushes at his feet, who takes up the cudgels for the new patentees, is John Ellis the painter. He was the pupil of Sir James Thornhill, deputy-manager for Mr. Wilkes, and principal scene painter to the theatre. By the favour of the Duke of Montagu and Sir Robert Walpole, he was appointed to be great master of the wardrobe, and keeper of the lions in the Tower. He was much happier in attending a pugilistic exhibition at Broughton's academy than in the exercise of his profession. His figure appears muscular, but hardly leads one to suppose, what is yet certainly a fact, that Rysbrack—when he produced what Mr. Walpole very emphatically calls that exquisite summary of his skill, knowledge, and judgment, the "Hercules," now in Mr. Hoare's temple at Stourhead—modelled the legs of the god from those of Ellis.—The figure in the background, with a tremendous plume of feathers, and a flowing periwig, grasping his truncheon in a style of defiance, may be Mills, in the character of Bajazet. On the flag which is borne between Mr. Highmore and Ellis, is inscribed, "We'll starve them out." On that borne in the rear of the seceders, on the opposite side, is written, "We eat." The figure near it is probably intended to represent Johnson, in Sir Hugh Evans; as that with a truncheon in his hand, who stands next him, may be intended for Bardolph; but who the performer was, I am not well enough versed in dramatic history to determine: it would probably be known at that time, by the ends of two cudgels, which rise in parallel lines immediately behind his head, and may perhaps intimate that this gentleman, as well as Theophilus Cibber, was under some obligations to his wife for giving him a title he was not born with.—The Sir John Falstaff was certainly intended for Harper,[108] who was eminent in that character; as Pistol, with the inscription, "Pistol's alive," was indisputably meant for the younger Cibber. The masculine gentlewoman, waving a flag on which is inscribed "Liberty and Property," is, I think, clearly intended as a portraiture of the notorious Mistress Doll Tearsheet; but who was the actress that personated this fair friend of the fat knight, I really do not know.[109]
The show-cloth underneath, with the tall figure and two spectators, is a representation of Maximilian, a giant from Upper Saxony. That with the wooden horse is explained by the inscription above it, "The Siege of Troy is here." Mr. Victor, in an eulogium upon Boheme the actor, says that "his first appearance was at a booth in Southwark Fair, which in those days lasted two weeks, and was much frequented by persons of all ranks and both sexes. He acted the part of Menelaus, in the best droll I ever saw, called The Siege of Troy."
The Adam and Eve upon another show-cloth may probably allude to the representation of somewhat compiled from an old mystery called The Creation.[110]
The old puppet-show joke of Punch wheeling his wife into the jaws of destruction, which is underneath, is well known. By the paper lantern, dwarf drummer, and little figure at a temporary door, it appears that the royal waxwork and whole Court of France are at the Royal Oak.
It is a little remarkable, that in this almost endless variety of holiday amusements there should be no exhibition of wild beasts[111] or wonderful quadrupeds. A roaring lion, raging tiger, and fierce cat a-mountain, would have had a large audience; and a learned pig or an overgrown Lincolnshire ox might have made the proprietors' fortunes at that time, as they have done at this.
The amusements of the fair at this period continued a fortnight,[112] and were unquestionably attended with much loss of time, and productive of some habits of dissipation among the lower ranks of people who attended them. A visit to a family in the vicinity must have been a delightful entertainment, and the pleasure much heightened if the lady of the mansion happened to be fond of dumb creatures. A whistle, drum, and trumpet, in the possession of three little masters, with a barking lap-dog, screaming parrot, and canary bird in full song, must form a concert of such heavenly harmony, as
"Would bring an angel down!"
For those who delight in pointing out examples of Hogarth's bad spelling, this print affords a fine field. The name of Cibber is spelt with only one b. In the Fall of Bajazet, the z appears to have been originally an s. "We'l starve them out." The e final in waxworke, these syllable dissectors may perhaps deign to acknowledge was then customary.
In my enumeration of some of the actors who appear on the show-cloth, etc., I may sometimes be wrong: let it be received as conjecture founded on the best information I could obtain; and let it be remembered, that to procure positive information of circumstances which happened near fifty years ago is not easy. The memoranda to be found in magazines, and other perishable prints of the day, are not always to be depended upon. Even now these authentic documents sometimes lead those who implicitly believe them into error.[113]
