The Old Showmen and the Old London Fairs Part 10

Kean's engagement with Richardson brings us to a portion of his personal history which is involved in the profoundest mystery. His biographers state that his mother, Anne Carey, was at the time a member of Richardson's company, that Kean was unaware of the fact when he engaged, and that he left the _troupe_ not very long afterwards, in consequence of his mother claiming and receiving his salary, the last circ.u.mstance being said to rest on the authority of Kean himself. Not much credence is due to the story on that account; for the great actor exercised his imagination on the subject of his origin and antecedents as freely as the Josiah Bounderby of the inimitable d.i.c.kens. But the results of a patient search among the gatherings relating to Bartholomew Fair in the library of the British Museum clearly prove that Kean's mother was, when a member of Richardson's company, the wife of an actor named Carey.

The only Careys whose names are to be found in any of the bills of Richardson's theatre which have been preserved were a married couple, who for many years, including the whole period of Kean's engagement, sustained the princ.i.p.al parts in those wonderful melodramas for which the establishment was so famous. If these people were Kean's parents, what becomes of the story which has been told by his biographers, on the authority of Miss Tidswell? That they a.s.sumed to be his parents is undoubted, and it is equally beyond doubt that the relations.h.i.+p was unquestioned by Richardson, and the claims founded upon it acquiesced in by Kean.

"Windsor Fair," said Richardson, in relating the story of Kean's professional visit to Windsor Castle, "commenced on a Friday, and after all our impediments we arrived safe, and lost no time in erecting our booth. We opened with _Tom Thumb_ and the _Magic Oak_. To my great astonishment, I received a note from the Castle, commanding Master Carey to recite several pa.s.sages from different plays before his Majesty King George the Third at the Palace. I was highly gratified at the receipt of the above note; but I was equally perplexed to comply with the commands of the King. The letter came to me on Sat.u.r.day night; and as Master Carey's wardrobe was very scanty, it was necessary to add to it before he could appear in the presence of royalty. My purse was nearly empty, and to increase my dilemma, all shops belonging to Jews were shut, and the only chance we had left was their being open on Sunday morning.

"Among the Jews, however, we at last purchased a smart little jacket, trousers, and body linen; we tied the collar of his s.h.i.+rt through the b.u.t.ton-holes with a piece of black ribbon; and when dressed in his new apparel, Master Carey appeared a smart little fellow, and fit to exhibit his talents before any monarch in the world. The King was highly delighted with him, and so were all the n.o.bility who were present. Two hours were occupied in recitations; and his abilities were so conspicuous to every person present that he was p.r.o.nounced an astonis.h.i.+ng boy, and a lad of great promise. The present he received for his performance was rather small, being only two guineas, though, upon the whole, it turned out fortunate for the family. The princ.i.p.al conversation in Windsor for a few days was about the talents displayed by Master Carey before the King. His mother, therefore, took advantage of the circ.u.mstance, and engaged the market-hall for three nights for Edmund's recitations. This was an excellent speculation, and the hall overflowed with company every night.

"Mrs. Carey joined me on the following Monday at Ewell Fair; and all the family, owing to their great success, came so nicely dressed that I scarcely knew them. Mrs. Carey and her children did not quit my standard during the summer. After a short period, I again got my company together, and with hired horses went to Waltham Abbey. I took a small theatre in that town, the rent of which was fifteen s.h.i.+llings per week. It was all the money too much. My company I considered very strong, consisting of Mr.

Vaughan, Mr. Thwaites, Master Edmund, his mother, and the whole of his family, Mr. Saville Faucit, Mr. Grosette, Mr. and Mrs. Jefferies, Mr.

Reed, Mrs. Wells, and several other performers, who are now engaged at the different theatres in the kingdom. Notwithstanding we acted the most popular pieces, the best night produced only nine s.h.i.+llings and sixpence.

Starvation stared us in the face, and our situation was so truly pitiable that the magistrate of the town, out of compa.s.sion for our misfortunes, bespoke a night."

It is singular that Richardson does not mention Carey, his chief actor, in this communication; but the words "the whole of his family" must be supposed to include Carey and, I believe, a daughter. In every bill of the period the names of Mr. H. Carey and Mrs. H. Carey appear as the representatives of the heroes and heroines of the Richardsonian drama; and the absence of any direct mention of the former is much less remarkable than the fact that he has been altogether ignored by every biographer of Kean, while the supposed mother of the tragedian is invariably styled _Miss_ Carey.

It is exceedingly improbable that the mystery involved in these discrepancies and contradictions will now ever be cleared up in a satisfactory manner. One thing alone, amidst all the confusion and obscurity, seems certain; namely, that the Careys were in Richardson's company before Kean joined it, and that, whether or not he believed them to be his parents, he dropped their acquaintance when he threw off their authority. Raymond says that when Kean, after his marriage, visited Bartholomew Fair, he was recognised by Carey, who was standing on the parade of Richardson's theatre, and ran down the steps to greet him; the tragedian seemed mortified, treated the strolling actor coldly, and "slunk away, literally like a dog in a fair."

In pondering the probabilities of the case, it is obvious that considerable allowance must be made for the obscurity which envelopes the origin of Kean's existence. Their only authority being Miss Tidswell, it is natural that the biographers should suppose the woman who pa.s.sed for Kean's mother with Richardson and his company to be the Nancy Carey of her story, and mention her as Miss Carey. But the evidence of the bills, which cannot have been known to them, forces upon us the re-consideration of the story of Kean's parentage which has. .h.i.therto pa.s.sed current. Miss Tidswell's story can be reconciled with the facts only by the hypothesis that Anne Carey, subsequently to Kean's birth, became the wife of H.

Carey, the sameness of name being due to cousins.h.i.+p, or perhaps merely a coincidence. Kean's illegitimacy may have been known to Richardson, whose knowledge of the circ.u.mstance would explain the reason of his speaking of Mrs. Carey as the mother of Master Carey, while he says nothing to warrant the supposition that he regarded her husband as the lad's father.

But everything about Kean's early life is mysterious and obscure. How and when did he acquire the cla.s.sical lore which he seems to have possessed?

Certainly not while he was roaming the streets of London, frequenting all the fairs, and practising flip-flaps; nor while travelling with Saunders, Scowton, and Richardson, and rejoicing in the cognomen of Mr. King d.i.c.k.

As little likely does it seem that he could have acquired it at that subsequent period of his life when the leisure which his profession left him was pa.s.sed in disreputable taverns, in low orgies with the worst companions.

"You see this inequality in the bridge of my nose?" he once observed to Benson Hill, the author of a couple of amusing volumes of theatrical anecdotes and adventures. "It was dealt me by a demmed pewter pot, hurled from the hand of Jack Thurtell. We were borne, drunk and bleeding, to the watch-house, for the night. When I was taken out, washed, plastered, left to cogitate on any lie, of an accident in a stage fight, I told it, and was believed, for the next day I dined with the Bishop of Norwich."

My task does not, however, require me to follow Kean's fortunes from the time when he left Richardson's company, and obtained an engagement at a provincial theatre. The date is uncertain, but his name does not appear in the bills of 1807, and he had probably turned his back on the travelling theatre in the preceding year.

Patrick O'Brien, the Irish giant, exhibited himself for the last time in 1804, when he advertised as follows:--

"Just arrived in town, and to be seen in a commodious room, at No. 11, Haymarket, nearly opposite the Opera House, the celebrated Irish Giant, Mr. O'Brien, of the Kingdom of Ireland, indisputably the tallest man ever shown; is a lineal descendant of the old puissant king, Brien Boreau, and has, in person and appearance, all the similitudes of that great and grand potentate. It is remarkable of this family, that, however various the revolutions in point of fortune and alliance, the lineal descendants thereof have been favoured by Providence with the original size and stature, which have been so peculiar to their family. The gentleman alluded to measures nearly nine feet high. Admittance one s.h.i.+lling."

O'Brien had now realised a considerable fortune, and he resolved to retire from the public gaze. Having purchased an old mansion near Epping, and on the borders of the forest, he took up his abode there, keeping a carriage and pair of horses, and living quietly and unostentatiously the brief remainder of his life. He died in 1806, in his forty-seventh year, when his servants made use of his fame and his wardrobe for their own emolument, dressing a wax figure in his clothes, and exhibiting it at rooms in the Haymarket, the Strand, and other parts of the metropolis.

The rival theatres of Richardson and Scowton attended Bartholomew Fair in 1807, when the former produced a romantic and highly sensational drama, called _The Monk and the Murderer_, in which Carey played the princ.i.p.al character, Baron Montaldi, and his wife that of Emilina, the Baron's daughter. The following announcement appears in the head of the bill:--

"Mr. Richardson has the honour to inform the Public, that for the extraordinary Patronage he has experienced, it has been his great object to contribute to the convenience and gratification of his audience. Mr. R.

has a splendid collection of Scenery, unrivalled in any Theatre; and, as they are painted and designed by the first Artists in England, he hopes with such Decorations, and a Change of Performances each day, the Public will continue him that Patronage it has been his greatest pride to deserve."

The scenery of the drama comprised a Gothic hall in the Baron's castle, a rocky pa.s.s in Calabria, a forest, a rustic bridge, with a distant view of the castle, a Gothic chamber, and a baronial hall, decorated with banners and trophies. In the fourth scene a chivalric procession was introduced, and in the last a combat with battle-axes. The drama was followed, as usual, by a pantomime ent.i.tled _Mirth and Magic_, which concluded with a "grand panoramic view of Gibraltar, painted by the first artists."

Saunders was there, with a circus, and seems to have attended the fair with considerable regularity. He was often in difficulties, however, and on one occasion, after borrowing a trick horse of Astley, his stud was taken in execution for debt, and the borrowed horse was sold with the rest. Some time afterwards, two equestrians of Astley's company were pa.s.sing a public-house, when they recognised Billy, harnessed to a cart which was standing before the door. Hearing their voices, the horse erected his ears, and, at a signal from one of them, stood up on his hind legs, and performed such extraordinary evolutions that a crowd collected to witness them. On the driver of the cart coming from the public-house, an explanation of Billy's appearance in cart-harness was obtained with the observation that "he was a werry good 'orse, but so full o' tricks that we calls 'im the mountebank." Billy, I scarcely need say, was returned to his stall in Astley's stables very soon after this discovery.

Miss Biffin was still attending the fairs, painting portraits with her right shoulder, and in 1808 attracted the attention of the Earl of Morton, who sat to her for his likeness, and visited her "living carriage" several times for that purpose. In order to test her ability, he took the portrait away with him, after each sitting, and thus became satisfied that it was entirely the work of her own hand, or rather shoulder. Finding that the armless little lady really possessed artistic talent, he showed the portrait to George III., who was pleased to direct that she should receive instruction in drawing at his expense.

The Earl of Morton corresponded with this remarkable artist during a period of twenty years. She was patronised by three successive sovereigns, and from William IV. she received a small pension. She then yielded to the wish of the Earl of Morton that she should cease to travel, and settled at Birmingham, where, several years afterwards, she married, and resumed, as Mrs. Wright, the pursuit of her profession.

Ballard's menagerie held a respectable position between the time of Polito and Miles and that of Wombwell and Atkins. The newspapers of the period do not inform us, however, from whose menagerie it was that the leopard escaped which created so much consternation one summer night in 1810. The caravans were on their way to Bartholomew Fair, when, between ten and eleven o'clock at night, while pa.s.sing along Piccadilly, the horses attached to one of them were scared by some noise, or other cause of alarm, and became restive. The caravan was overturned and broken, and a leopard and two monkeys made their escape. The leopard ran into the bas.e.m.e.nt of an unfinished house near St. James's Church, and one of the monkeys into an oyster-shop, the proprietor of which, hearing that a leopard was loose, immediately closed the door. What became of the other monkey is not stated.

The keepers ran about, calling for a blanket and cords, to secure the leopard; but every person they accosted shut their doors, or took to their heels, on learning the purpose for which such appliances were required.

After some delay, a cage was backed against the opening by which the leopard had entered the building, below which it growled threateningly as it crouched in the darkness. With some risk and difficulty, it was got into the cage, but not until it had bitten the arm of one of the keepers so severely that he was obliged to proceed to St. George's hospital for surgical aid.

Malcolm, describing Bartholomew Fair as it was seventy years ago, says,--"Those who wish to form an idea of this scene of depravity may go at eleven o'clock in the evening. They may then form some conception of the dreadful scenes that have been acted there in former days. The visitor will find all uproar. Shouts, drums, trumpets, organs, the roaring of beasts, a.s.sailing the ear; while the blaze of torches and glare of candles confuse sight, and present as well the horror of executions, and the burning of martyrs, and the humours of a fair." Though, "the blaze of torches and glare of candles" cannot be said to const.i.tute a "scene of depravity," and "shouts, drums, trumpets, organs, the roaring of beasts,"

though tending to produce an "uproar," cannot be accepted as evidence of vice, since the former sounds accompany the civic procession of the 9th of November, and the latter are heard in the Zoological Gardens, the newspapers of the period bear testimony to the existence of a considerable amount of riot and disorder at the late hour mentioned by Malcolm.

In those days, when the lighting was defective and the police inefficient, it is not surprising that the "roughs" had their way when the more respectable portion of the frequenters of the fair had retired, and that scenes occurred such as the more efficient police of the present day have had some difficulty in suppressing on Sunday evenings in the princ.i.p.al thoroughfares of Islington and Pentonville. The newspapers of the period referred to by Malcolm afford no other support to his statement than accounts of the disorder and mischief produced by the rus.h.i.+ng through the fair at night of hordes of young men and boys, apparently without anything being attempted for the prevention of the evil. In 1810, two bands of these ruffians met, and their collision caused two stalls to be knocked down, when the upsetting of a lamp on a stove caused the canvas to ignite, and a terrible disaster was only prevented by the exertions of a gentleman who was on the spot in extinguis.h.i.+ng the flames. In 1812 many persons were thrown down in one of the wild rushes of the "roughs," and an infant was dashed from its mother's arms, and trampled to death.

Richardson, who was always on the alert for novelties, introduced in 1814, at Portsmouth, the famous Josephine Girardelli, who in the same year exhibited her remarkable feats in a room in New Bond Street. The following hand-bill sufficiently indicates their nature:--

"Wonders will never cease!--The great Phenomena of Nature. Signora Josephine Girardelli (just arrived from the Continent), who has had the honour of appearing before most of the Crowned Heads of Europe, will exhibit the Powers of Resistance against Heat, every day, until further notice, at Mr. Laxton's Rooms, 23, New Bond Street. She will, without the least symptoms of pain, put boiling melted lead into her mouth, and emit the same with the imprint of her teeth thereon; red-hot irons will be pa.s.sed over various parts of her body; she will walk over a bar of red-hot iron with her naked feet; will wash her hands in aquafortis; put boiling oil in her mouth! The above are but a few of the wonderful feats she is able to go through. Her performances will commence at 12, 2, 4, and 6 o'clock. Admission 3_s._ Any lady or gentleman being dubious of the above performances taking place, may witness the same, gratis, if not satisfied.

Parties may be accommodated by a private performance, by applying to the Conductor."

The portrait of this Fire Queen, as she would be styled at the present day, was engraved by Page, and published by Smeeton, St. Martin's Lane. It represents her in her performing costume, a short spangled jacket, worn over a dress of the fas.h.i.+on of that day; the features are regular and striking, but their beauty is of a rather masculine type. The hair appears dark, and is arranged in short curls.

Elliston engaged in a show speculation at this time, having contracted with a Dutchman, named Sampoeman, for the exhibition of a dwarf, named Simon Paap. He hired a room in Piccadilly for the purpose and engaged an interpreter; but the speculation was a failure, and Elliston was glad to obtain Sampoeman's consent to the cancelling of the contract. He made a more successful venture when, at the close of a bad theatrical season at Birmingham, he announced the advent of a Bohemian giant, who would toss about, like a ball, a stone weighing nearly a ton. Few modern giants have possessed the strength ascribed to the seven-feet men of old, and such an athlete as the Bohemian would have been worth a visit. The theatre was filled, therefore, for the first time that season; but when the overture had been performed, and the occupants of the gallery were beginning to testify impatience, Elliston appeared before the curtain, looking grave and anxious, as on such occasions he could look to perfection. Evincing the deepest emotion, he informed the expectant audience that the perfidious Bohemian had disappointed him, and had not arrived.

"Here," said he, producing a number of letters from his pockets, "are letters which must satisfy every one that I am not to blame for this disappointment, which I a.s.sure you, ladies and gentlemen, is to me one of the bitterest of my existence. As they are numerous and lengthy, and are all written in German, you will, I am sure, excuse me from reading them; but, as further evidence of the good faith in which I have acted in this matter, you shall see the stone."

The curtain was drawn half-way up, and the disappointed Brums were consoled with the sight of an enormous ma.s.s of stone, and with the announcement that they would receive, on leaving the theatre, vouchers ent.i.tling them to admission to the boxes on the following night, on payment of a s.h.i.+lling. Elliston thus obtained two good houses at no other extra expense than a few s.h.i.+llings for the cartage of the pretended giant's stone ball, the Bohemian being merely a creation of his own fertile imagination.

Sampoeman's arrangement with Elliston having proved a failure, the little Dutchman was transferred to Gyngell, who exhibited him in his show in Bartholomew Fair and elsewhere, in 1815. There are three portraits of Simon Paap in existence, showing a striking resemblance to little Mr.

Stratton, commonly known as Tom Thumb. One of them, drawn by Woolley, and engraved by Wors.h.i.+p, probably for advertising purposes, bears the following inscription:--

MR. SIMON PAAP.

"_The celebrated Dutch dwarf, 26 years of age, weighs 27 pounds, and only 28 inches high; had the honour of being presented to the Prince Regent and the whole of the Royal Family at Carleton House, May 5th, 1815, and was introduced by Mr. Dan. Gyngell to the Right Honourable the Lord Mayor, Sept. 1st, 1815; and was exhibited in the course of 4 days in Smithfield to upwards of 20,000 persons; is universally admitted to be the greatest wonder of the age._"

Another portrait, engraved by Cooper, and published by Robins and Co., is better executed; but the third is a poor sketch, taken three years later, and unsigned.

Richardson presented this year, on the first day of Bartholomew Fair, _The Maid and the Magpie_, and a pantomime, "expressly written for this theatre," ent.i.tled _Harlequin in the Deep_, terminating with a panorama, "taken from the spot, by one of our most eminent artists," representing Longwood, in the island of St. Helena, and the adjacent scenery, interesting to the public at that time as the place of exile selected by the Powers lately in arms against France for Napoleon I. Poc.o.c.k's drama was, of course, greatly abridged, for drama and pantomime, with a comic song between, were got through in half an hour, and often in twenty minutes, when the influx of visitors rendered it expedient to abbreviate the performance. Shuter's signal, corrupted into _John Orderly_, was used by Richardson on such occasions.

A daily change of performances had at this time become necessary, and Richardson presented on the second day "an entire new Chinese romantic melodrama," called _The Children of the Desert_, and a comic pantomime, ent.i.tled _Harlequin and the Devil_. On the third day the pantomime was the same, preceded by "an entire new melodrama," called _The Roman Wife_.

This year there first appeared in the fair an eccentric character named James Sharp England, known as "the flying pieman." He was always neatly dressed, with a clean white ap.r.o.n before him, but wore no hat, and had his hair powdered and tied behind in a queue. Like the famous Tiddy-dol of a century earlier, he aimed at a profitable notoriety through a fantastic exterior and a droll manner; and he succeeded, his sales of plum-pudding, which he carried before him on a board, and vended in slices, being very great wherever he appeared. The present representative of the perambulating traders of the eccentric order is a man who has for many years strolled about the western districts of the metropolis, wearing clean white sleeves and a black velvet cap placed jauntily on his head, and carrying before him a tray of what, in oily and mellifluous accents, he proclaims to be, "Brandy b.a.l.l.s as big as St. Paul's! Oh, _so_ nice!

They are all sugar and brandy!"

The following year is memorable among showmen, and especially among menagerists, for the attack of Ballard's lioness on the Exeter mail-coach.

On the night of the 20th of October, the caravans containing the animals were standing in a line along the side of the road, near the inn called the Winterslow Hut, seven miles from Salisbury, to the fair of which city the menagerie was on its way. The coach had just stopped at this inn for the guard to deliver his bag of local letters, when one of the leaders was attacked by some large animal. The alarm and confusion produced by this incident were so great that two of the inside pa.s.sengers left the coach, ran into the house, and locked themselves in a room above stairs; while the horses kicked and plunged so violently that the coachman feared that the coach would be overturned. It was soon perceived by the coachman and guard, by the light of the lamps, that the a.s.sailant was a large lioness.

A mastiff attacked the beast, which immediately left the horse, and turned upon him; the dog then fled, but was pursued and killed by the lioness about forty yards from the coach.

An alarm being given, Ballard and his keepers pursued the lioness to a granary in a farm-yard, where she ran underneath the building, and was there barricaded in to prevent her escape. She growled for some time so loudly as to be heard half a mile distant. The excited spectators called loudly to the guard to despatch her with his blunderbuss, which he seemed disposed to attempt, but Ballard cried out, "For G.o.d's sake, don't kill her! She cost me five hundred pounds, and she will be as quiet as a lamb if not irritated." This arrested the guard's hand, and he did not fire.

The lioness was afterwards easily enticed from beneath the granary by the keepers, and taken back to her cage. The horse was found to be severely lacerated about the neck and chest, the lioness having fastened the talons of her fore feet on each side of his throat, while the talons of her hind feet were forced into his chest, in which position she hung until attacked by the dog. Death being inevitable, a fresh horse was procured, and the coach proceeded on its journey, after having been detained three-quarters of an hour.

A coloured print of this encounter adorns, or did thirty years ago adorn, the parlour of the Winterslow Hut, and was executed, according to the inscription, from the narrative of Joseph Pike, the guard, who, next to the lioness, is the most conspicuous object in the group. The lioness has seized the off leader by the throat, and the guard is standing on his seat with a levelled carbine, as if about to fire. In the foreground is the dog, which looks small for a mastiff, as if diminished by the artist for the purpose of making the lioness appear larger by the comparison, as the human figures on the show-cloths of the menageries always are. The terrified faces in the inside of the coach, and at the upper windows of the inn, and the blue coats and yellow vests of the outside pa.s.sengers, each grasping an umbrella or a carpet-bag, as if determined not to die without a struggle, make up a vivid and sensational picture, which would have found immediate favour with the conductor of the 'Police News,' had such a periodical existed in those days.

The following year was signalised by the first appearance at Bartholomew Fair of the learned pig, Toby, who was exhibited by a showman named h.o.a.re.

There seems to have been a succession of learned pigs bearing the same name, on the same principle, probably, as Richardson's theatre continues to be advertised at Easter or Whitsuntide as at the Crystal Palace, or the Agricultural Hall, or the Spaniards, at Hampstead Heath, twenty years after the component parts of the structure were dispersed under the auctioneer's hammer.

The wonder of 1818 was an athletic French woman, who was advertised as follows:--