CHAPTER IX

THE LADY FAIR

The fairs of London were at one time many in number. The most ancient

was that of St. Bartholomew, held in August, and annexed to the Priory

by Henry I. St. James's Fair was held for the benefit of St. James's

Lazar House: there was a Fair on Tower Hill, granted by Edward III. to

St. Katherine's Hospital: there was the Fair at Tothill Fields, founded

by Henry III.: on the South side there were Fairs at Charlton--the Horse

Fair: at Greenwich: at Camberwell: at Peckham: at Lambeth. The Lady

Fair, or the Southwark Fair, was of comparatively late foundation,

having been established in the year 1462 by a Charter of Edward IV.

empowering the City of London to hold a Fair in Southwark every year on

the 7th, 8th, and 9th days of September, with 'all the liberties to such

fairs appertaining,' together with a Court of Pie Powder. Some of the

mediæval fairs were held for the sale of special goods: that of Cloth

Fair, Bartholomew's, for instance: that of Croydon Cherry Fair: that of

Maidstone for hops: that of Royston for cheese. Most of them, however,

were general Fairs held for the sale of all kinds of goods: the shops

were booths arranged in order side by side, and in streets. One street

was for wool and woollen goods: another for hardware: another for

spices: another for silks, and so forth. The Fair did no harm to the

trade of the nearest town, for the simple reason that most towns had no

trade except in provisions and drink. To the Fair people came from all

quarters to buy or to sell: the country housewife laid in her stores of

spices, sugar, wine, furs, silks, ribbons, gloves, and everything that

she could not make at home, in these fairs. The Lady Fair of Southwark,

for instance, drew the people from all parts of the country within

reach, but mostly from Clapham, Wandsworth, Streatham, and Tooting, to

buy their stores for the coming year. There was always, from the

beginning, something of a festive nature about a Fair: the merry crowd

suggested feasting and good company: the drinking tempted one on every

side: there were eating booths as well, and gambling booths, and dancing

booths; and in every one there was music and singing.

When internal communications were improved, and people could easily ride

or drive to the neighbouring town, the permanent shop replaced the

temporary booth, and the original purpose of the Fair was lost. Then it

became, and continued until the end, merely a place of amusement, and,

until it became riotous, a place of excellent amusement. Nothing is more

ancient or more permanent than the arts and tricks and clevernesses of

the show folk. I have elsewhere remarked on the singular fact that the

comic actor never ceases out of the land: I do not mean the man who can

play a comic part to the admiration of beholders, but the man who has a

genius for bringing out the comic character in every part and in every

situation. It is the same thing with the juggler, the tumbler, the

posturer, the dancer on the rope and wire, the trainer and teacher of

animals. Dogs, monkeys, bears, horses, were all trained to perform

tricks: women danced on the tight rope: jugglers tossed knives and

balls: men fought with quarterstaff, single-sticks, rapier, or fist:

there were exhibitions of strange monsters: there were strange

creatures. The nature of the show was proclaimed by a large painted

canvas hung outside the booth.

[Illustration: BOOTH, SOUTHWARK FAIR]

Evelyn, writing on the 13th of September, 1660, says: 'I saw in

Southwark at St. Margaret's Faire, monkies and asses dance and do other

feates of activity on ye tight rope; they were gallantly clad _à la

mode_, went upright, saluted the company, bowing and pulling off their

hats; they saluted one another with as good a grace as if instructed by

a dancing-master. They turn'd heels over head with a basket having eggs

in it without breaking any; also with lighted candles in their hands and

on their heads without extinguishing them, and with vessels of water

without spilling a drop. I also saw an Italian wench daunce and performe

all the tricks of ye tight rope to admiration; all the Court went to see

her. Likewise here was a man who tooke up a piece of iron cannon of

about 400 lb. weight with the haire of his head onely.'

Pepys twice mentions Southwark Fair. The first occasion was on September

11, 1660. He only says: 'Landing at the Bear at the Bridge Foot, we saw

Southwark Fair.' Eight years later he pays the Fair a second visit, of

which he gives the following account:

'21 September, 1668. To Southwark Fair, very dirty, and there saw the

puppet-show of Whittington, which is pretty to see; and how that idle

thing do work upon people that see it, and even myself too! And thence

to Jacob Hall's dancing on the ropes, where I saw such action as I never

saw before, and mightily worth seeing; and here took acquaintance with a

fellow who carried me to a tavern, whither came the music of this booth,

and by and by Jacob Hall himself, with whom I had a mind to speak,

whether he ever had any mischief by falls in his time. He told me, "Yes,

many, but never to the breaking of a limb." He seems a mighty strong

man. So giving them a bottle or two of wine, I away.'

Hogarth has preserved for us and for our posterity a faithful picture of

Lady Fair as it was in the year 1733. As it was in the daytime,

remember, not the evening. Hogarth did not shrink from depicting scenes

because they were brutal, or debauched--the pen that drew the Rake's

midnight orgies could not plead that anything was too coarse or violent

or abandoned for representation. Had Hogarth drawn a picture of the Fair

in the evening as well as the afternoon we should have known why the

City grew more and more disgusted at the orgies of the Lady Fair until

it became impossible to tolerate it any longer.

The Fair was held in the open street, between St. Margaret's Hill and

St. George's Church. Beyond St. George's Church was open country, with a

few houses, &c., as shown in Hogarth's picture which appeared in 1733.

That part of the Fair which is shown contains two theatrical booths,

Punch's opera, and a waxwork. At one of the theatres, that of Lee and

Harper, is about to be performed Elkanah Settle's Droll of 'The Siege of

Troy.' At the other Theatre, there is a great show cloth called the

Stage Mutiny, referring to a recent dispute at Drury Lane, and the piece

promised is the 'Fall of Bajazet.' The youngest and most beautiful of

the actresses is out before the Booth with a drum, a black boy playing a

cornet, and an actor dressed for the principal part with a magnificent

wig and a towering plumed helmet. Alas! the great man is arrested at the

moment of taking the picture: at the same moment the stage outside the

booth gives way, and actors and actresses are precipitated headlong:

there will be no performance this day of 'The Fall of Bajazet.' There is

a peep show in the picture: Figg the Prizefighter rides across the

stage, his wig off, so as to show the wounds he has received: the dwarf

Savoyard plays his bagpipe and makes his dolls jump: there is the cook's

shop under the falling stage: the rope dancer Violante tumbles on the

slack rope: Cardman the aerial performer descends from the tower of St.

George's: a quack eats lighted tow: the conjurer shows some of his

tricks outside, but promises marvels inside the booth; the rustics gaze

in speechless admiration in the face of the drummer-actress: beyond, we

see the beginning of the line of booths, where everything was sold that

was of no value--toys, chapbooks, gingerbread, ribbons, cakes, whips,

canes, snuff-boxes, tobacco-boxes, worthless rings, cloth slippers,

night-caps, shoe laces, buckles, soap by the yard, singing birds and

cages for them, tinder-boxes, pewter platters and mugs. All day long the

noise went on: it began at noon: the people came from the country and

from the city: they dined in one of the booths, off roast sucking pig,

for choice, a diet consecrated to all the Fairs from time immemorial:

the children were brought and treated to a fairing, the peep-show, and

the play, and some gingerbread. In the afternoon the country lads

wrestled for a hat--you can see the hat in the picture; and the girls

ran a race for a smock--you can see the smock in the picture. When the

sun grew low the children were taken home, and the real fun of the fair

began. Then all the quiet people within hearing stopped their ears: and

all the decent people ran away: and the prentices, the rustics, the

roughs of the Mint with their correspondencies of the other sex, had

their own way until the weary players put out their footlights and lay

down to sleep as they could among the properties and scenes of their

theatre, and the people of the booths put their wares under the counters

and lay down to sleep upon them like the grocers' assistants. And then,

one supposes, the prentices, the rustics, and the rogues went home

again. And in the morning repentance and an aching head, and an empty

purse.

We may take it that all the amusements and shows which were brought out

for Bartholomew Fair, and for May Fair while it lasted, were also

exhibited at Southwark.

The 'droll,' which was a kind of acting in dumbshow to music and with

singing, was popular; dancing of all kinds formed a large part of the

Fair. In Frost's 'Old Showman,' there is an advertisement of dancing in

a booth:

'THOMAS DALE, Drawer at the Crown Tavern at Aldgate, keepeth the TURK'S

HEAD Musick Booth, in Smithfield Rounds, over against the Greyhound Inn,

during the time of Bartholomew Fair, Where is a Glass of good Wine, Mum,

Syder, Beer, Ale, and all other Sorts of Liquors, to be Sold; and where

you will likewise be entertained with good Musick, Singing and Dancing.

You will see a Scaramouch Dance, the Italian Punch's Dance, the Quarter

Staff, the Antick, the Countryman and Countrywoman's Dance, and the

Merry Cuckolds of Hogsden.

'Also a young Man that dances an Entry, Salabrand, and Jigg, and a Woman

that dances with Six Naked Rapiers, that we Challenge the whole Fair to

do the like. There is likewise a Young Woman that Dances with Fourteen

Glasses on the Backs and Palms of her Hands, and turns round with them

above an Hundred Times as fast as a Windmill turns; and another Young

Man that Dances a Jigg incomparably well to the Admiration of all

Spectators! _Vivat Rex!!_'

And in the following lines we have a scene at a Fair which we may very

well believe to be Lady Fair. They tell us

How pedlars' stalls with glittering toys are laid,

The various fairings of the country maid.

Long silken laces hang upon the twine,

And rows of pins and amber bracelets shine;

How the neat lass knives, combs, and scissors spies,

And looks on thimbles with desiring eyes.

Of lotteries next with tuneful note he told,

Where silver spoons are won, and rings of gold.

The lads and lasses trudge the street along,

And all the fair is crowded in his song.

The mountebank now treads the stage, and sells

His pills, his balsams, and his ague-spells;

Now o'er and o'er the nimble tumbler springs,

And on the rope the venturous maiden swings;

Jack Pudding, in his party-coloured jacket,

Tosses the glove, and jokes at every packet.

Of raree-shows he sung, and Punch's feats,

Of pockets picked in crowds, and various cheats.

The introduction of the theatre with dramas played by the King's

servants should have raised the character of the Fair. Perhaps it did.

In any case, the Theatre of the Fair was not an unpromising place for a

young actor to begin. The audience wanted nothing but the presentation

of a story, and that a strong and moving story. If an actor failed in

the fire and passion of his part, he was pelted off the stage. He was

therefore compelled to pay attention to the very essentials of his

profession, the presentation visibly and unmistakably of the emotions. A

stagey manner would be the result of too long continuance on these

boards, but at the outset no kind of practice could be more useful.

This was proved by the lovely Mrs. Horton, who was discovered by the

manager of Drury Lane playing at the Lady Fair in the play of 'Cupid and

Psyche.' He took her away and placed her on his own stage, where she

played for many years, leaving behind her a reputation of the finest

actress and the most beautiful woman known up to that time.

The Theatre of the Fair is, I think, quite gone. I rejoice in being able

to remember one of these delightful shows. There was a great booth with

a platform in front and canvas pictures hung up behind the platform. The

orchestra occupied one end of the platform, playing with zeal between

the performances. The company in their lovely dresses stood on the

platform and danced a kind of quadrille from time to time: the clown and

the pantaloon, when they were not tumbling, stood at the head of the

broad stairs clanging cymbals and bawling that the play was just about

to begin. The price of a seat was threepence, with a few rows at

sixpence: the play lasted twenty minutes: it was always a melodrama of

persecuted and virginal innocence--in white. The joy of the whole

performance was to children beyond all power of words: the play: the

music: the ethereal beauty of the actresses: the rollicking fun of the

clown: the sense of fleeting pleasure conveyed by the roughness of the

benches and the grass under our feet: and the general festivity of the

noise, the music, the bawling outside make me remember Richardson's

Theatre and Messrs. Doggett's and Penkethman's, with the greatest

pleasure and the most poignant regret.

I fear, then, that Lady Fair became, in the evening especially, a place

in which everybody went 'as he pleased,' and that with so much dancing,

drinking, love-making, singing, playing on the flowery slope that the

authorities had to interfere. It is, indeed, a most melancholy

circumstance that the people cannot be allowed to amuse themselves in

the way they would choose. May Fair first, Lady Fair next, one after

the other the Fairs of London have been suppressed. Lady Fair

succumbed in 1760, when it was finally abolished.

[Illustration: GREENWICH PARK ON WHITSUN MONDAY

(_From an Engraving by Rawle, 1802_)]

May one say a word of two other fairs even more disreputable--those of

Charlton and of Greenwich? Charlton Fair was founded in the year 1268,

so that it was a very ancient institution, to be held on three days in

the year--'the Eve, the day, and the morrow of the Trinity.' The time of

the Fair was, however, changed at some time to the day of St. Luke, on

October 18. It was one of those Fairs which acquired a distinctive

character. Just as Barnet Fair became a Horse Fair, Charlton became a

Horn Fair. The obvious--and therefore popular--kind of fooling to be

made out of horns and their associations--which are now quite lost and

forgotten--as well as the day, which was also connected with those

associations--made this Fair extremely popular. The people from London

went down to Deptford by boat, joined the people from Greenwich and

Deptford, and formed a burlesque procession, everyone wearing horns on

his head, or carrying horns to affix to some other person's head. At the

fair itself there was exhibited a great quantity of vessels and utensils

made of horn: every booth had horns put up in the front: rams' horns

were exhibited and sold in quantities; even the gingerbread was stamped

with horns. The reason of this display was one quite forgotten by the

people: viz. that a horned ox is the recognised symbol of St. Luke. It

was customary for men to dress up, for the burlesque procession, in

women's clothes; they also amused themselves (see Chambers's 'Book of

Days') in lashing the women with furze: probably in pretence only. The

procession was discontinued in 1768, the Fair went on until 1871.

We must not forget Greenwich Fair, which was held on Whit Monday. Long

after Bartholomew Fair decayed and fell, Greenwich Fair remained. It was

one of the greatest holidays of the year for the London folk of the

lower class. The amusements consisted of two parts, the first playing

in the Park, where there were races and sports: the second the fun of

the booths and the shows.

The former began early in the forenoon and went on until the evening.

The people came down from London in boats for the most part, and by the

Old Kent Road in vehicles of every description, or even on foot for the

whole five miles. If it was a fine morning the park was filled with the

working classes and the young men and maidens belonging to the working

classes. The sports were primitive: the favourite amusement was for a

line of youths and girls to run down hill hand in hand. The slope was

steep, the pace was rapid: before long half of them were sprawling

headlong or rolling over and over, with such displays and derangements

as may be imagined. Or there were games of kiss in the ring and

thread-my-needle: or there were sailors showing the Cockneys how to

dance the hornpipe; men with telescopes through which could be seen the

men hanging in chains on the Isle of Dogs, or St. Paul's Cathedral: or

there were the old pensioners telling yarns of the battles they had

fought, especially the Battle of Trafalgar, when to every man, as it

seemed, Fortune had caused the hero Nelson to fall into his arms.

Outside the Park the street was filled with booths where everything

could be bought, as at Lady Fair, which was worthless, including

gingerbread. There were theatrical booths, shows of pictures,

pantomimes, Punch and Judy, exhibitions of monsters, dwarfs, giants,

bearded ladies, mermaids, menageries of wild beasts, feats of

legerdemain, fire-eaters, boxers and quarterstaff players, cock

fighting, and every other conceivable amusement. In the evening, beside

the Theatre, there were the dancing booths. The same cause which led to

the suppression of the Lady Fair brought about that of Greenwich Fair.

It was suppressed, I think, about the year 1855. I myself saw it in

1851, but only in the afternoon, when it was already, I remember, a

good-natured crowd playing horse tricks upon each other, and making a

noise, which, with the bellowing of the show folk, the blaring of the

bands, the cries of the boys and girls on the merry-go-rounds, and the

roar of the crowd, one will never forget. For my own part I am of

opinion that the noise was the worst part of the fair: that what went on

in the evening would have gone on just as much outside the Fair as in

it: and that it did very little harm to let the people enjoy themselves

in their own way, which was a coarse, somewhat drunken and somewhat

indecent way.

South London · 第 9 / 17 章