The Old Showmen and the Old London Fairs

Hippisley, Bullock, and Hallam presented Fair Rosamond, followed by The Impostor, in which Vizard was played by Hippisley, Balderdash by Bullock, and Solomon Smack by Hallam’s son. During the last week of the fair, Hippisley gave, as an interlude, his diverting medley in the character of a drunken man, for which impersonation he was long as celebrated as Harper was for a similar representation.

Ryan, Laguerre, Chapman, and Hall gave what appears a long programme for a fair, and suggests more than the ordinary amount of “cutting down.” The performances commenced with Don John, in which the libertine prince was played by Ryan, and Jacomo by Chapman. After the tragedy came a ballad opera, The Barren Island, in which Hall played the boatswain, Laguerre the gunner, and Penkethman the coxswain. The performances concluded with a farce, The Farrier Nicked, in which Laguerre was Merry, Penkethman the farrier’s man, and Hall an ale-wife.

At Southwark Fair this year, Lee’s booth, now conducted by his widow, stood in Axe and Bottle Yard, and presented the Siege of Troy, “which,” says the advertisement, “in its decorations, machinery, and paintings, far exceeds anything of the like kind that ever was seen in the fairs before, the scenes and clothes being entirely new. All the parts to be performed to the best advantage, by persons from the theatres. The part of Paris by Mr. Hulett; King Menelaus, Mr. Roberts; Ulysses, Mr. Aston; Simon, Mr. Hind; Captain of the Guard, Mr. Mackenzie; Bustle the Cobler, Mr. Morgan; Butcher, Mr. Pearce; Taylor, Mr. Hicks; Cassandra, Mrs. Spiller; Venus, Mrs. Lacy; Helen, Mrs. Purden; Cobler’s Wife, Mrs. Morgan. With several Entertainments of Singing and Dancing by the best masters.

“N.B. There being a puppet-show in Mermaid Court, leading down to the Green, called The Siege of Troy; These are to forewarn the Publick, that they may not be imposed on by counterfeits, the only celebrated droll of that kind was first brought to perfection by the late famous Mrs. Mynns, and can only be performed by her daughter, Mrs. Lee.”

Mrs. Lee seems to have had a formidable rival in another theatrical booth, which appeared anonymously, and from this circumstance, combined with the fact of its occupying the site on which Lee and Harper’s canvas theatre had stood for several successive years, may not unreasonably be regarded as the venture of Harper. All I have found concerning it is the bill, which, as being a good specimen of the announcements issued by the proprietors of the theatrical booths attending the London fairs, is given entire.

“At the Great Theatrical Booth

On the Bowling-Green behind the Marshalsea, down Mermaid-Court next the Queen’s-Arms Tavern, during the Time of Southwark Fair, (which began the 8th instant and ends the 21st), will be presented that diverting Droll call’d,

The True and Ancient History ofMaudlin, the Merchant’s Daughter of Bristol,AND Her Constant Lover Antonio,

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 HarlequinORAny Wife better than NoneWith Scenes, Machines, and other Decorationsproper 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.

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.

This year the fair was visited again by the Prince of Wales, of which incident an account appeared many years afterwards in the ‘New European Magazine.’ The shows were all in full blast and the crowd at its thickest, when, says the narrator, “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 the yeomen of the guard, 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, 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 torch-light, 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 preparation to their treading the boards of a theatre royal.”

The narrator then proceeds to describe the duties of the leading actor in a Bartholomew Fair theatre, from which account there is some deduction to be made for the errors and exaggerations of a person writing long after the times which he undertakes to describe, and who was not very careful in his researches, as the statement that the fair then lasted three weeks or a month sufficiently attests. The picture which he gives was evidently drawn from his knowledge of the Richardsonian era, which he endeavoured to make fit into the Bartholomew Fair experiences of the very different showmen of the reign of George II.

“I will,” he says, assuming the character of an actor of the period he describes, “as we say, take you behind the scenes. First, then, an actor must sleep in the pit, and wake early to throw fresh sawdust into the boxes; he must shake out the dresses, and wind up 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 keeps 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.”

Griffin and Harper drop out of the list of showmen at the London fairs in this year. Griffin appeared at Drury Lane for the last time on the 12th of February, and died soon afterwards, with the character of a worthy man and an excellent actor. He made his first appearance at Lincoln’s Inn Fields, as Sterling in The Perplexed Lovers, in 1714. Harper, the jolly, facetious low comedian, suffered an attack of paralysis towards the close of 1739, and, though he survived till 1742, he never appeared again on the stage.

In the following year, Hippisley and Chapman presented A Devil of a Duke; and Hallam relied for success upon Fair Rosamond. Lee and Woodward, whose booth stood opposite the hospital gate, produced Darius, King of Persia, “with the comical humours of Sir Andrew Aguecheek at the siege of Babylon.” Anachronisms of this kind were common at theatrical booths in those days, when comic Englishmen of one type or another were constantly introduced, without regard to the scene or the period of the drama to be represented. Audiences were not sufficiently educated to be critical in such matters, and managers could plead the example of Shakspeare, who was then esteemed a greater authority than he is considered to be at the present day. Yates made his first appearance as a showman this year, in partnership with Turbutt, who set up a booth opposite the King’s Head, and produced a pantomime called Thamas Kouli Khan, founded on recent news from the East. An epilogue, in the character of a drunken English sailor, was spoken by Yates, of whom Churchill wrote, —

“In characters of low and vulgar mould,Where nature’s coarsest features we beholdWhere, destitute of every decent grace,Unmanner’d jests are blurted in your face;There Yates with justice strict attention draws,Acts truly from himself, and gains applause.”

There was a second and smaller booth in the name of Hallam, in which tumbling and rope-dancing were performed; but whether belonging to the actor or to another showman of the same name is uncertain. Fawkes and Pinchbeck exhibited the latter’s model of the Siege of Carthagena, with which a comic dramatic performance was combined.

The office of Master of the Revels was held at this time by Heidegger, a native of Zurich, who was also manager of the Italian Opera. He was one of the most singular characters of the time, and as remarkable for his personal ugliness as for the eccentricity of his manners. The profanity of his language was less notable in that age than his candour. Supping on one occasion with a party of gentlemen of rank, the comparative ingenuity of different nations became the theme of conversation, when the first place was claimed by Heidegger for his compatriots.