Smithfield presented its wonted fair aspect on the eve of Bartholomew, 1736, the civic authorities having seen the error of their ways, and testified their sense thereof by again permitting shows to be erected. Hippisley joined Fielding this year, and they presented Don Carlos and the Cheats of Scapin, Mrs. Pritchard re-appearing in the character of Loveit. Hallam and Chapman joined in partnership, and produced Fair Rosamond and a ballad opera.
Fielding had at this time an income of two hundred a year, besides what he derived from translating and adapting French plays for the London stage, and the profits of his annual speculation in Smithfield. But, if he had had three times as much, he would have been always in debt, and occasionally in difficulties. Besides being careless and extravagant in his expenditure, he was generous to a fault. His pocket was at all times a bank upon which friendship or distress might draw. One illustration of this trait in his character I found in an old collection of anecdotes published in 1787. Some parochial taxes for his house in Beaufort Buildings, in the Strand, being unpaid, and repeated application for payment having been made in vain, he was at last informed by the collector that further procrastination would be productive of unpleasant consequences.
In this dilemma, Fielding, having no money, obtained ten or twelves guineas of Tonson, on account of some literary work which he had then in hand. He was returning to Beaufort Buildings, jingling his guineas, when he met in the Strand an Eton chum, whom he had not seen for several years. Question and answer followed quickly as the friends shook each other’s hands with beaming eyes, and then they adjourned to a tavern, where Fielding ordered dinner, that they might talk over old times. Care was given to the winds, and the hours flew on unthought of, as the showman and his old schoolfellow partook of “the feast of reason, and the flow of soul.” Fielding’s friend was “hard up,” and the fact was no sooner divulged than his purse received the greater part of the money for which the future novelist had pledged sheets of manuscript as yet unwritten.
It was past midnight when Fielding, raised by wine and friendship to the seventh heaven, reached home. In reply to the questions of his sister, who had anxiously awaited his coming, as to the cause of his long absence, he related his felicitous meeting with his former chum. “But, Harry,” said Amelia, “the collector has called twice for the rates.” Thus brought down to earth again, Fielding looked grave; it was the first time he had thought of the rates since leaving Tonson’s shop, and he had spent at the tavern all that he had not given to his friend. But his gravity was only of a moment’s duration. “Friendship,” said he, “has called for the money, and had it; let the collector call again.” A second application to Tonson enabled him, however, to satisfy the demands of the parish as well as those of friendship.
It was in this year that the Act for licensing plays was passed, the occasion—perhaps I should say, the pretext—being the performance of Fielding’s burlesque, Pasquin. Ministers had had their eyes upon the stage for some time, and it must be admitted that the political allusions that were indulged in on the stage were strong, and often spiced with personalities that would not be tolerated at the present day. It is doubtful, however, whether the Act would have passed the House of Commons, but for the folly of Giffard, manager of Goodman’s Fields, and sometimes of a booth in Bartholomew Fair. He had a burlesque offered him, called the Golden Princess, so full of gross abuse of Parliament, the Privy Council, and even the King, that, impelled by loyalty, and suspecting no ulterior aims or sinister intention, he waited upon Sir Robert Walpole, and laid before him the dreadful manuscript. The minister praised Giffard for his loyalty, while he must have inwardly chuckled at the egregious folly and mental short-sightedness that could be so easily led into such a blunder. He purchased the manuscript, and made such effective use of it in the House of Commons that Parliament was as completely gulled as Giffard had been, and the Dramatic Licensing Bill became law.
In the following year, Hallam appeared at Bartholomew Fair without a partner, setting up his show over against the gate of the hospital, and presenting a medley entertainment, comprising, as set forth in the bills, “the surprising performances of M. Jano, M. Raynard, M. Baudouin, and Mynheer Vander Huff. Also a variety of rope-dancers, tumblers, posture-masters, balance-masters, and comic dancers; being a set of the very best performers that way in Europe. The comic dances to be performed by M. Jano, M. Baudouin, M. Peters, and Mr. Thompson; Madlle. De Frano, Madlle. Le Roy, Mrs. Dancey, and Miss Dancey. To which will be added, the Italian Shadows, performed by the best masters from Italy, which have not been seen these twenty years. The whole to conclude with a grand ballet dance, called Le Badinage Champêtre. With a complete band of music of hautboys, violins, trumpets, and kettle-drums. All the decorations entirely new. To begin every day at one o’clock, and continue till eleven at night.” Close to this booth was Yeates’s, in which The Lover his own Rival was performed by wax figures, nearly as large as life, after which Yeates’s son performed some juggling feats, and a youth whose name does not appear in the bills gave an acrobatic performance.
In 1738, Hallam’s booth occupied the former site of Fielding’s, in George Yard, the entertainment consisted of the operatic burlesque, The Dragon of Wantley, performed by the Lilliputian company from Drury Lane. During the filling of the booth a posturing performance was given by M. Rapinese. “The passage to the booth,” says the advertisements, “is commodiously illuminated by several large moons and lanthorns, for the conveniency of the company, and that persons of quality’s coaches may drive up the yard.” Penkethman had this year a booth, where Hallam’s had stood the preceding year, and presented The Man’s Bewitched and The Country Wedding.
Hallam’s booth attended Tottenham Court Fair this year, standing near the turnpike, and presenting a new entertainment called The Mad Lovers. At Southwark Fair Lee’s theatrical booth stood on the bowling-green, and presented Merlin, the British Enchanter, and The Country Farmer, concluding with a mimic pageant representing the Lord Mayor’s procession in the old times.
In 1739, Bartholomew Fair was extended to four days, and there was a proportionately larger attendance of theatrical booths. Hallam’s stood over against the hospital gate, and presented the pantomime of Harlequin turned Philosopher and the farce of The Sailor’s Wedding, with singing and dancing. Hippisley, Chapman, and Legar had a booth in George Yard, where they produced The Top of the Tree, in which a famous dog scene was introduced, and the mythological pantomime of Perseus and Andromeda. Bullock, who had made his last appearance at Covent Garden in the preceding April, had the largest booth in the fair, and assumed the part of Judge Balance in a new pantomimic entertainment called The Escapes of Harlequin by Sea and Land, which was preceded by a variety of humorous songs and dances. Phillips, a comedian from Drury Lane, joined Mrs. Lee this year in a booth at the corner of Hosier Lane, where they presented a medley entertainment, comprising the “grand scene” of Cupid and Psyche, a scaramouch dance by Phillips and others (said to have been given, with great applause, on forty successive nights, at the Opera, Paris), a dialogue between Punch and Columbine, a scene of a drunken peasant by Phillips, and a pantomimic entertainment called Columbine Courtesan, in which the parts of Harlequin and Columbine were sustained by Phillips and his wife.
In 1740, Hallam, whose show stood opposite the hospital gate, presented The Rambling Lover; and Yeates, whose booth was next to Hallam’s, the pantomime of Orpheus and Eurydice. The growing taste for pantomime, which is sufficiently attested by the play-bills of the period, induced Hippisley and Chapman, whose booth stood in George Yard, to present, instead of a tragedy or comedy, a pantomime called Harlequin Scapin, in which the popular embodiment of Molière’s humour was adapted with success to pantomimic requirements. Hippisley played Scapin, Chapman was Tim, and Yates, who made his first appearance at Bartholomew Fair, Slyboots. After the pantomime came singing and dancing by Oates, Yates, Mrs. Phillips, and others, “particularly a new whimsical and diverting dance called the Spanish Beauties.” The performances concluded with a new musical entertainment called The Parting Lovers. Fawkes and Pinchbeck also had a theatrical booth this year in conjunction with a partner named Terwin.