Who she follow’d into Italy, disguising herself in Man’s Habit; shewing the Hardships she underwent by being Shipwreck’d on the coast of Algier, where she met her Lover, who was doom’d to be burnt at a Stake by the King of that Country, who fell in Love with her and proffer’d her his Crown, which she despised, and chose rather to share the Fate of her Antonio than renounce the Christian Religion to embrace that of their Impostor Prophet, Mahomet.
With the Comical Humours of
Roger, Antonio’s Man,
And variety of Singing and Dancing between the Acts by Mr. Sandham, Mrs. Woodward, and Miss Sandham.
“Particularly, a new Dialogue to be sung by Mr. Excell and Mrs. Fitzgerald. Written by the Author of Bacchus one day gaily striding, &c. and a hornpipe by Mr. Taylor. To which will be added a new Entertainment (never perform’d before) called
The Intriguing Harlequin
OR
Any Wife better than None.
With Scenes, Machines, and other Decorations
proper to the Entertainment.”
Pinchbeck and Fawkes had a booth this year on the Bowling Green, where the entertainments of the preceding year were repeated, the little posturer being again announced as only nine years of age. Pinchbeck had a shop in Fleet Street at this time, (mentioned in the thirty-fifth number of the ‘Adventurer’), and, perhaps, an interest in the wax figures exhibited by Fawkes at the Old Tennis Court, as “the so much famed piece of machinery, consisting of large artificial wax figures five foot high, which have all the just motions and gestures of human life, and have been for several years shewn at Bath and Tunbridge Wells, and no where else, except this time two years at the Opera Room in the Haymarket; and by them will be presented the comical tragedy of Tom Thumb. With several scenes out of The Tragedy of Tragedies, and dancing between the acts. To which will be added, an entertainment of dancing called The Necromancer: or, Harlequin Dr. Faustus, with the fairy song and dance. The clothes, scenes, and decorations are entirely new. The doors to be opened at four, and to begin at six o’clock. Pit 2s. 6d. Gallery 1s. Tickets to be had at Mr. Chenevix’s toy-shop, over against Suffolk Street, Charing Cross; at the Tennis Court Coffee House; at Mr. Edward Pinchbeck’s, at the Musical Clock in Fleet Street; at Mr. Smith’s, a perfumer, at the Civet Cat in New Bond Street near Hanover Square; at the little man’s fan-shop in St. James’s Street.”
Fawkes and Pinchbeck seem to have speculated in exhibitions and entertainments of various descriptions, for besides this marionette performance and the conjuring show, there seems to have been another show, which appeared at Bartholomew Fair this year, as their joint enterprise, and for which Fielding wrote a dramatic trifle called The Humours of Covent Garden. It was probably a performance of puppets, like that at the Old Tennis Court.
The licences granted by the Corporation for mountebanks, conjurors, and others, to exercise their avocations at Bartholomew Fair had hitherto extended to fourteen days; but in 1735 the Court of Aldermen resolved—“That Bartholomew Fair shall not exceed Bartholomew eve, Bartholomew day, and the next morrow, and shall be restricted to the sale of goods, wares, and merchandises, usually sold in fairs, and no acting shall be permitted therein.” There were, therefore, no shows this year; and, as the Licensing Act had rendered all unlicensed entertainers liable to the pains and penalties of vagrancy, and Sir John Barnard was known to be determined to suppress all such “idle amusements” as dancing, singing, tumbling, juggling, and the like, the toymen, the vendors of gingerbread, the purveyors of sausages, and the gin-stalls had the fair to themselves.
There seems no evidence, however, that there was less disorder, or less indulgence in vice, in Bartholomew Fair this year than on former occasions. “Lady Holland’s mob,” as the concourse of roughs was called which anticipated the official proclamation of the fair by swarming through the streets adjacent to Smithfield on the previous night, assembled as usual, shouting, ringing bells, and breaking lamps, as had been the annual wont from the time of the Long Parliament, though the association of Lady Holland’s name with these riotous proceedings is a mystery which I have not been able to unravel. Nor is there any reason for supposing that drunkenness was banished from the fair with the shows; for, though it is probable that a much smaller number of persons resorted to Smithfield, it is certain that gin-stalls constituted a greater temptation to excessive indulgence in alcoholic fluids, in the absence of all means of amusement, than the larger numbers that visited the shows were exposed to. The idea of promoting temperance by depriving the people of the choice between the public-house and the theatre or music-hall is the most absurd that has ever been conceived.
It was on the 15th of March, in this year, that Ryan, the comedian and Bartholomew Fair theatrical manager, was attacked at midnight, in Great Queen Street, by a footpad, who fired a pistol in his face, inflicting injuries which deprived him of consciousness, and then robbed him of his sword, which, however, was afterwards picked up in the street. Ryan was carried home, and attended by a surgeon, who found his jaws shattered, and several teeth dislodged. A performance was given at Covent Garden for his benefit on the 19th, when he had a crowded house, and the play was the Provoked Husband, with Hallam as Lord Townly, and the farce the School for Women, which was new, in the Robertsonian sense, being adapted from Molière. Hippisley played in it. The Prince of Wales was prevented by a prior engagement from attending, but he sent Ryan a hundred guineas. The wounded actor was unable to perform until the 25th of April, when he re-appeared as Bellair in a new comedy, Popple’s Double Deceit, in which Sir William Courtlove was personated by Hippisley, Gayliffe by Hallam, and Jerry by Chapman.