A History of Pantomime

by R. J. Broadbent

John Palmer, the actor who died on the stage of the Theatre Royal, Liverpool—now used for the purpose of a cold storage—after uttering, in the part of "The Stranger," the words "There is another and a better world," found that, after building his theatre, the Royalty, in Wellclose Square, that he was prohibited its use, used to give Pantomimic representations, and just in a similar way as what the minor theatres did, as mentioned above.

It is amusing to note how the titles of some of Shakespeare's works—which at one time the Patent theatres had the monopoly—were got over; "Hamlet" has been known to have been played as "Methinks I see my Father;" "Othello," as "Is He Jealous?;" "Romeo and Juliet," as "How to Die for Love;" "The Merchant of Venice," under "Diamond Cut Diamond," and so on. Music and dancing also were introduced ad lib into these performances.

The Pantomime of "Mother Goose," produced at Covent Garden, December 29, 1806, which ran 92 nights, was preceded by "George Barnwell," and brought some £20,000 into the theatre treasury. Strangely enough, for about thirty years, it was the unvarying rule to play "George Barnwell" at this theatre on a Boxing Night, which, from all accounts, owing to the liveliness of the gods and goddesses assembled on these occasions—the Tragedy was as much a Pantomime as the Pantomime proper that followed. Of these "merry moments" Dibdin recalls that Tragedies, Comedies, and Operas were doomed to suffer all the complicated combinations of "Pray ask that gentleman to sit down," "Take off your hat?" and the like. "But the moment," continues Dibdin, "the curtain goes up (on the Pantomime), if any unfortunate gentleman speaks a word they make no reply, but throw him over directly."

Seemingly afterwards, at Pantomime time, "Barnwell" was discarded in favour of "Jane Shore," as in "The Theatrical Magazine" we find a writer penning the following:—

A few years since it was the established rule to play "George Barnwell," by way, we suppose, of a "great moral lesson" to the apprentices of London. In this age of innovation this venerable custom has been broken down, but the principle seems not wholly to have been abandoned. "Jane Shore" has supplanted "Barnwell," and the anxieties of the age, are, it would appear, now directed towards the softer sex. Seriously speaking, we consider these Christmas selections as exceedingly absurd. Visitants at this period of the year frequent the theatre less for the purpose of seeing the play than the Pantomime, and at both theatres it was this evening their chief, and almost only, attraction; for the tragedy of Rowe, which is of very little merit, derived but trifling interest or effect from the performers who personated the prominent characters. Moreover the lessons of the pulpit have unfortunately but too slight an influence on those who attend them, and we are rather fearful the moral benefits to be derived from these stage lectures, to the apprentices and servants of the metropolis, do not countervail the loss of pleasure sustained by those who would be so much better pleased; and, therefore, perhaps, taught by a lively comedy, satirising some of the light vices or laughable follies of the age. We trust this theatrical nuisance will be for the future reformed; we can almost excuse the holiday folks for being turbulent, when we reflect upon the insult offered to their understandings, in the treatment they receive on these occasions.

In 1830, at Covent Garden Theatre, Peake introduced into the Pantomime of "Harlequin Pat, and Harlequin Bat" a "speaking opening." Pantomime, however, pursued the even tenour of its way until the production at the Adelphi, about 1857, of a Pantomime, with a "burlesque opening," and "the thin end of the wedge" was provided, written by Mark Lemon. In the Harlequinade, Madame Celeste appeared as Harlequin à la Watteau, and Miss Mary Keeley was the Columbine. These Extravaganzas, from the pen of Planché, with scenery by Beverley, and all under the management of Vestris, afterwards became quite the rage.

I have previously referred to the excellence of Beverley's scenes under the regime of Madame Vestris. Extravagance in Extravaganzas, like "The Blue Bird," "Once Upon a Time," and the like, caused the managers, in the matter of scenery, to enter into serious competition with one another.

Pantomime, it was thought, was doomed, as its decease at this epoch seemed impending. It managed, however, to come again into popular favour, but in a very different shape. Instead of the usual comic Pantomime it was played by two different sets of performers, and having no connection with one another. The opening scenes, like a soap bubble, began to grow larger and larger, the double plot was abandoned, the Transformation scene became the principal feature, and a long Harlequinade at the end.

In the Pantomime of "Red Riding Hood," written by F.W. Green, and produced at Her Majesty's Theatre, during the 'eighties, an effort was made to compose and invent a piece of pure Pantomime. The Vokes family, J.T. Powers, and others, appeared in this Pantomime.

In France and Italy particularly, the Mimetic Art still flourishes; but in this country it is practically a lost Art. One of the best examples, and most successful, we have had in recent years of this ancient form of entertainment in this country was that of "L'Enfant Prodigue," played by Mdlle. Jane May and a French Company of Pantomimists. There are, however, several other very brilliant Pantomimists excellent in their Art, like the Martinetti troupe, the two brothers Renad, and the Leopolds.