CHAPTER II.

Amusements of the Fairs in the Middle Ages--Shows and Showmen of the

Sixteenth Century--Banks and his Learned Horse--Bartholomew Fair in

the time of Charles I.--Punch and Judy--Office of the Revels--Origin

of Hocus Pocus--Suppression of Bartholomew Fair--London Shows during

the Protectorate--A Turkish Rope-Dancer--Barbara Vanbeck, the Bearded

Woman.

Numerous illuminations of manuscripts in the Harleian collection, many of

which were reproduced in Strutt's work on the sports and pastimes of the

English people, having established the fact that itinerant professors of

the art of amusing were in the habit of tramping from town to town, and

village to village, for at least two centuries before the Norman Conquest

of this country, there can be no doubt that the fairs were so many foci of

attraction for them at the times when they were respectively held. As we

are told that the minstrels and glee-men flocked to the towns and villages

which grew up under the protection of the baronial castles when the

marriage of the lord, or the coming of age of the heir, furnished an

occasion of popular revelry, and also when the many red-letter days of the

mediæval calendar came round, we may be sure that they were not absent

from Bartlemy fair even in its earliest years.

Glee-men was a term which included dancers, posturers, jugglers, tumblers,

and exhibitors of trained performing monkeys and quadrupeds; and, the

masculine including the feminine in this case, many of these performers

were women and girls. The illuminations which have been referred to, and

which constitute our chief authority as to the amusements of the fairs

during the middle ages, introduce us to female posturers and tumblers, in

the act of performing the various feats which have been the stock in trade

of the acrobatic profession down to the present day. The jugglers

exhibited the same feats with balls and knives as their representatives of

the nineteenth century; what is professionally designated "the shower," in

which the balls succeed each other rapidly, while describing a semi-circle

from right to left, is shown in one of the Harleian illuminations.

Balancing feats were also exhibited, and in one of these curious

illustrations of the sights which delighted our fair-going ancestors, the

balancing of a cart-wheel is represented--a trick which might have been

witnessed not many years ago in the streets of London, the performer being

an elderly negro, said to have been the father of the well-known

rope-dancer, George Christoff, who represented the Pompeian performer on

the _corde elastique_, when Mr. Oxenford's version of _The Last Days of

Pompeii_ was produced at the Queen's Theatre.

Performing monkeys, bears, and horses appear in many of the mediæval

illuminations, and were probably as popular agents of public amusement in

the earliest years of Bartlemy fair as they can be shown, from other

authorities, to have been in the sixteenth century. That monkeys were

imported rather numerously for the amusement of the public, may be

inferred from the fact of some Chancellor of the Exchequer of the middle

ages having subjected them to an import duty. Their agility was displayed

chiefly in vaulting over a chain or cord. Bears were taught to feign

death, and to walk erect after their leader, who played some musical

instrument. Horses were also taught to walk on their hind legs, and one

drawing in the Harleian collection shows a horse in this attitude, engaged

in a mimic fight with a man armed with sword and buckler.

All these performances seem to have been continued, by successive

generations of performers, down to the time of Elizabeth. Reginald Scot,

writing in 1584, gives a lengthy enumeration of the tricks of the jugglers

who frequented the fairs of the latter part of the sixteenth century.

Among them are most of the common tricks of the present day, and not the

least remarkable is the decapitation feat, which many of my readers have

probably seen performed by the famous wizards of modern times at the

Egyptian Hall. Three hundred years ago, it was called the decollation of

St. John the Baptist, and was performed upon a table, upon which stood a

dish to receive the head. The table, the dish, and the knife used in the

apparent decapitation were all contrived for the purpose, the table having

two holes in it, one to enable the assistant who submitted to the

operation to conceal his head, the other, corresponding to a hole in the

dish, to receive the head of another confederate, who was concealed

beneath the table, in a sitting position; while the knife had a

semi-circular opening in the blade to fit the neck. Another knife, of the

ordinary kind, was shown to the spectators, who were prevented by a

sleight of hand trick from observing the substitution for it of the knife

used in the trick. The engraving in Malcolm's work shows the man to be

operated upon lying upon the table, apparently headless, while the head of

the other assistant appears in the dish.

That _lusus naturæ_, and other natural curiosities, had begun to be

exhibited by showmen in the reign of Elizabeth, may be inferred from the

allusions to such exhibitions in _The Tempest_, when Caliban is

discovered, and the mariners speculate upon his place in the scale of

animal being. It seems also that the practice of displaying in front of

the shows large pictures of the wonderful feats, or curious natural

objects, to be seen within, prevailed in the sixteenth century, and

probably long before; for it is distinctly alluded to in a passage in

Jonson's play of _The Alchymist_, in which the master of the servant who

has filled the house with searchers for the philosopher's stone, says,

"What should my knave advance

To draw this company? He hung out no banners

Of a strange calf with five legs to be seen,

Or a huge lobster with six claws."

Some further glimpses of the Bartlemy fair shows of the Elizabethan period

are afforded in the induction or prologue to another play of Jonson's,

namely, the comedy of _Bartholomew Fair_, acted in 1614. "He," says the

dramatist, speaking of himself, "has ne'er a sword and buckler-man in his

fair; nor a juggler with a well-educated ape to come over the chain for

the King of England, and back again for the Prince, and sit still on his

haunches for the Pope and the King of Spain." The sword and buckler-man

probably means a performer who took part in such a mimic combat of man and

horse, as is represented in the illumination which has been referred to.

The monkey whose Protestant proclivities are noted in the latter part of

the passage is mentioned in a poem of Davenant's, presently to be quoted.

We cannot suppose absent from the metropolitan fairs the celebrated

performing horse, Morocco, and his instructor, of whom Sir Walter Raleigh

says, "If Banks had lived in older times, he would have shamed all the

enchanters in the world; for whosoever was most famous among them could

never master or instruct any beast as he did." That Shakspeare witnessed

the performances of Morocco, which combined arithmetical calculations with

saltatory exercises, is shown by the allusion in _Love's Labour Lost_,

when Moth puzzles Armado with arithmetical questions, and says, "The

dancing horse will tell you." Sir Kenelm Digby states that the animal

"would restore a glove to the due owner after the master had whispered the

man's name in his ear; and would tell the just number of pence in any

piece of silver coin newly showed him by his master."

Banks quitted England for the Continent with his horse in 1608, and De

Melleray, who witnessed the performance of the animal in the Rue St.

Jacques, in Paris, says that Morocco could not only tell the number of

francs in a crown, but knew that the crown was depreciated at that time,

and knew the exact amount of the depreciation. From Paris, Banks travelled

with his learned horse to Orleans, where the fame which they had acquired

brought him under the imputation of being a sorcerer, and he had a narrow

escape of being burned at a stake in that character. Bishop Morton says

that he cleared himself by commanding his horse to "seek out one in the

press of the people who had a crucifix on his hat; which done, he bade him

kneel down unto it, and not this only, but also to rise up again, and to

kiss it. 'And now, gentlemen,' (quoth he), 'I think my horse hath

acquitted both me and himself;' and so his adversaries rested satisfied;

conceiving (as it might seem) that the devil had no power to come near the

cross."

We next hear of Banks and his horse at Frankfort-on-the-Maine, where

Bishop Morton saw them, and heard from the former the story of his narrow

escape at Orleans. Their further wanderings cannot be traced; and, though

it has been inferred, from a passage in a burlesque poem by Jonson, that

Banks was burned as a sorcerer, the grounds which the poet had for

assigning such a dreadful end for the famous horse-charmer are unknown,

and may have been no more than an imperfect recollection of what he had

heard of the Orleans story.

A hare which played the tabor is alluded to by Jonson in the comedy before

mentioned; and this performance also was not unknown to earlier times, one

of the illuminations copied by Strutt showing it to have been exhibited in

the fifteenth century. When Jonson wrote his comedy, the amusing classes,

encouraged by popular favour, were raising their heads again, after the

sore discouragement of the Vagrancy Act of Elizabeth's reign, which

scheduled jugglers and minstrels with strolling thieves, gipsy

fortune-tellers, and itinerant beggars. Elizabeth's tastes seem to have

inclined more to bull-baiting and bear-baiting than to dancing and

minstrelsy, juggling and tumbling; and, besides this, there was a broad

line drawn in those days, and even down to the reign of George III., as

will be hereafter noticed, between the upper ten thousand and the masses,

as to the amusements which might or ought to be permitted to the former

and denied to the latter.

In the succeeding reign the operation of the Vagrancy Act was powerfully

aided by the rise of the Puritans, who regarded all amusements as worldly

vanities and snares of the Evil One, and indulgence in them as a

coquetting with sin. As yet they lacked the power to suppress the fairs

and close the theatres, though their will was good to whip and imprison

all such inciters to sin and agents of Satan as they conceived minstrels,

actors, and showmen to be; and Bartholomew Fair showed no diminution of

popular patronage even in the reign of Charles I.

"Hither," says the author of a scarce pamphlet, printed in 1641, "resort

people of all sorts and conditions. Christchurch cloisters are now hung

full of pictures. It is remarkable, and worth your observation, to behold

and hear the strange sights and confused sounds in the fair. Here, a knave

in a fool's coat, with a trumpet sounding, or on a drum beating, invites

you to see his puppets. There, a rogue like a wild woodman, or in an antic

shape like an incubus, desires your company to view his motion; on the

other side, hocus pocus, with three yards of tape or ribbon in his hand,

showing his art of legerdemain, to the admiration and astonishment of a

company of cockoloaches. Amongst these, you shall see a gray goosecap (as

wise as the rest), with a 'What do ye lack?' in his mouth, stand in his

booth shaking a rattle, or scraping on a fiddle, with which children are

so taken, that they presently cry out for these fopperies: and all these

together make such a distracted noise, that you would think Babel were not

comparable to it.

"Here there are also your gamesters in action: some turning of a whimsey,

others throwing for pewter, who can quickly dissolve a round shilling into

a three-halfpenny saucer. Long Lane at this time looks very fair, and puts

out her best clothes, with the wrong side outward, so turned for their

better turning off; and Cloth Fair is now in great request: well fare the

ale-houses therein, yet better may a man fare (but at a dearer rate) in

the pig-market, alias pasty-nook, or pie-corner, where pigs are all hours

of the day on the stalls, piping hot, and would cry, (if they could

speak,) 'Come, eat me!'"

The puppets and "motions" alluded to in the foregoing description were

beginning to be a very favourite spectacle, and none of the puppet plays

of the period were more popular than the serio-comic drama of _Punch and

Judy_, attributed to Silvio Florillo, an Italian comic dramatist of the

time. According to the original version of the story, which has undergone

various changes, some of which have been made within the memory of the

existing generation, Punch, in a paroxysm of jealousy, destroys his infant

child, upon which Judy, in revenge, belabours him with a cudgel. The

exasperated hunchback seizes another stick, beats his wife to death, and

throws from the window the two corpses, which attracts the notice of a

constable, who enters the house to arrest the murderer. Punch flies, but

is arrested by an officer of the Inquisition, and lodged in prison; but

contrives to escape by bribing the gaoler. His subsequent encounters with

a dog, a doctor, a skeleton, and a demon are said to be an allegory,

intended to convey the triumph of humanity over ennui, disease, death, and

the devil; but, as there is nothing allegorical in the former portion of

the story, this seems doubtful.

The allegory was soon lost sight of, if it was ever intended, and the

latter part of the story has long been that which excites the most

risibility. As usually represented in this country during the last fifty

years, and probably for a much longer period, Punch does not bribe the

gaoler, but evades execution for his crimes by strangling the hangman

with his own noose. Who has not observed the delight, venting itself in

screams of laughter, with which young and old witness the comical little

wretch's fight with the constable, the wicked leer with which he induces

the hangman to put his neck in the noose by way of instruction, and the

impish chuckling in which he indulges while strangling his last victim?

The crowd laughs at all this in the same spirit as the audience at a

theatre applauds furiously while a policeman is bonneted and otherwise

maltreated in a pantomime or burlesque. The tightness of the matrimonial

noose, it is to be feared, materially influences the feeling with which

the murder of a faithless wife is regarded by those whose poverty shuts

out the prospect of divorce. And Punch is such a droll, diverting

vagabond, that even those who have witnessed his crimes are irresistibly

seduced into laughter by his grotesque antics and his cynical bursts of

merriment, which render him such a strange combination of the demon and

the buffoon.

The earliest notices of the representation in London of 'Punch's Moral

Drama,' as an old comic song calls it, occur in the overseer's books of

St. Martin's in the Fields for 1666 and 1667, in which are four entries of

sums, ranging from twenty-two shillings and sixpence to fifty-two

shillings and sixpence, as "Rec. of Punchinello, ye Italian popet player,

for his booth at Charing Cross."

_Hocus pocus_, used in the Bartholomew Fair pamphlet as a generic term for

conjurors, is derived from the assumed name of one of the craft, of whom

Ady, in 'A Candle in the Dark,' wrote as follows:--

"I will speak of one man more excelling in that craft than others, that

went about in King James's time, and long since, who called himself the

King's Majestie's most excellent Hocus Pocus; and so was he called because

at playing every trick he used to say, _Hocus pocus tontus talontus, vade

celeriter jubeo_--a dark composition of words to blind the eyes of the

beholders."

All these professors of the various arts of popular entertainment had, at

this period, to pay an annual licence duty to the Master of the Revels,

whose office was created by Henry VIII. in 1546. Its jurisdiction extended

over all wandering minstrels and every one who blew a trumpet publicly,

except "the King's players." The seal of the office, used under five

sovereigns, was engraved on wood, and was formerly in the possession of

the late Francis Douce, by whose permission it was engraved for Chalmers's

'Apology for the Believers in the Shakspeare MSS.,' and subsequently for

Smith's 'Ancient Topography of London.' The legend round it was, "SIGILL

: OFFIC : JOCOR : MASCAR : ET REVELL : DNIS REG." The Long Parliament

abolished the office, which, indeed, would have been a sinecure under the

Puritan rule, for in 1647 the entertainers of the people were forbidden to

exercise their vocation, the theatres were closed, the May-poles removed,

and the fairs shorn of all their wonted amusements, and reduced to the

status of annual markets.

There is, in the library of the British Museum, a doggrel ballad, printed

as a broad-sheet, called _The Dagonizing of Bartholomew Fair_, which

describes, with coarse humour, the grossness of which may be attributed in

part to the mingled resentment and contempt which underlies it, the

measures taken by the civic authorities for the removal from the fair of

the showmen who had pitched there, in spite of the determination of the

Lord Mayor and the Court of Aldermen, to suppress with the utmost rigour

everything which could move to laughter or minister to wonder. Among these

are mentioned a fire-eating conjuror, a "Jack Pudding," and "wonders made

of wax," being the earliest notice of a wax-work exhibition which I have

been able to discover.

Whether the itinerant traders who were wont to set up their stalls in the

fairs of Smithfield, and Westminster, and Southwark, found it worth their

while to do so during the thirteen years of the banishment of shows, there

is nothing to show; but we are not without evidence that the showmen were

able to follow their vocation without the fairs. Evelyn, who was a lover

of strange sights, records in his diary that, in 1654,--"I saw a tame lion

play familiarly with a lamb; he was a huge beast, and I thrust my hand

into his mouth, and found his tongue rough, like a cat's; also a sheep

with six legs, which made use of five of them to walk; and a goose that

had four legs, two crops, and as many vents."

Three years later, two other entries are made, concerning shows which he

witnessed. First we have, "June 18th. At Greenwich I saw a sort of cat,

brought from the East Indies, shaped and snouted much like the Egyptian

racoon, in the body like a monkey, and so footed; the ears and tail like a

cat, only the tail much longer, and the skin variously ringed with black

and white; with the tail it wound up its body like a serpent, and so got

up into trees, and with it wrap its whole body round. Its hair was woolly

like a lamb; it was exceedingly nimble, gentle, and purred as does the

cat." This animal was probably a monkey of the species called by Cuvier,

the toque; it is a native of the western regions of India, and one of the

most amusing, as well as the most common, of the simial tenants of modern

menageries.

"August 15th. Going to London with some company, we stept in to see a

famous rope-dancer, called _The Turk_. I saw even to astonishment the

agility with which he performed; he walked barefooted, taking hold by his

toes only of a rope almost perpendicular, and without so much as touching

it with his hands; he danced blindfold on the high rope, and with a boy of

twelve years old tied to one of his feet about twenty feet beneath him,

dangling as he danced, yet he moved as nimbly as if it had been but a

feather. Lastly he stood on his head, on the top of a very high mast,

danced on a small rope that was very slack, and finally flew down the

perpendicular on his breast, his head foremost, his legs and arms

extended, with divers other activities.

"I saw the hairy woman, twenty years old, whom I had before seen when a

child. She was born at Augsburg, in Germany. Her very eyebrows were combed

upwards, and all her forehead as thick and even as grows on any woman's

head, neatly dressed; a very long lock of hair out of each ear; she had

also a most prolix beard, and moustachios, with long locks growing on the

middle of her nose, like an Iceland dog exactly, the colour of a bright

brown, fine as well-dressed flax. She was now married, and told me she had

one child that was not hairy, nor were any of her parents or relations.

She was very well shaped, and played well on the harpsichord."

This extraordinary creature must have been more than twenty years of age

when Evelyn saw her, for the engraved portrait described by Granger bears

the following inscription:--"Barbara Vanbeck, wife to Michael Vanbeck,

born at Augsburg, in High Germany; daughter of Balthasar and Anne Ursler.

Aged 29. A.D. 1651. R. Gaywood f. London."

Another engraved portrait, in the collection of the Earl of Bute,

represents her playing the harpsichord, and has a Dutch inscription, with

the words--"Isaac Brunn delin. et sc. 1653." One of Gaywood's prints,

which, in Granger's time, was in the possession of Fredericks, the

bookseller, at Bath, had the following memorandum written under the

inscription:--"This woman I saw in Ratcliffe Highway in 1668, and was

satisfied she was a woman. JOHN BULFINCH." Granger describes her from the

portraits, as follows:--"The face and hands of this woman are represented

hairy all over. Her aspect resembles that of a monkey. She has a very long

and large spreading beard, the hair of which hangs loose and flowing like

the hair of the head. She is playing on the organ. Vanbeck married this

frightful creature on purpose to carry her about for a show."

The Old Showmen and the Old London Fairs · 第 2 / 11 章