CHAPTER X.

Saker and the Lees--Richardson's Theatre--Wombwell, the

Menagerist--The Lion Fights at Warwick--Maughan, the Showman--Miss

Hipson, the Fat Girl--Lydia Walpole, the Dwarf--The Persian Giant and

the Fair Circassian--Ball's Theatre--Atkins's Menagerie--A Mare with

Seven Feet--Hone's Visit to Richardson's Theatre--Samwell's

Theatre--Clarke's Circus--Brown's Theatre of Arts--Ballard's

Menagerie--Toby, the Learned Pig--William Whitehead, the Fat

Boy--Elizabeth Stock, the Giantess--Chappell and Pike's Theatre--The

Spotted Boy--Wombwell's "Bonassus"--Gouffe, the Man-Monkey--De Berar's

Phantasmagoria--Scowton's Theatre--Death of Richardson.

Nelson Lee had just completed a round of engagements at the London

theatres when, in 1822, his brother, having terminated his engagement with

Bannister's circus, came to the metropolis, and fitted up an unoccupied

factory in the Old Kent Road as a theatre. Nelson joined him in the

enterprise, which for a time was tolerably successful; but they had

omitted the requisite preliminary of obtaining a licence, and one night a

strong force of constables invaded the theatre, and arrested every one

present, audience as well as actors, with one exception. Saker, who

afterwards won some distinction as a comedian, ascended into a loft on the

first alarm, and drew up the ladder by which he had escaped. When all was

quiet, he descended, and left the building through a window. The

watch-houses of Southwark, Newington, Camberwell, and Greenwich were

filled with the offenders, most of whom, however, were discharged on the

following day, while the Lees, who pleaded ignorance of the law, escaped

with a small fine.

The same year witnessed the final performances of "Lady Holland's Mob."

About five thousand of the rabble of the City assembled in the

neighbourhood of Skinner Street, about midnight of the eve of St.

Bartholomew, and roared and rioted till between three and four o'clock

next morning, without interference from the watch or the constables. From

this time, however, this annual Saturnalia was not observed, or was

observed so mildly that the newspapers contain no record of the

circumstance.

In 1823, Richardson presented his patrons with a drama called _The Virgin

Bride_, and an extravaganza entitled _Tom, Logic, and Jerry_, founded upon

Moncrieff's drama, and concluding with a panorama of the metropolis. On

the third day, a romantic drama called _The Wanderer_ was substituted.

Wombwell's menagerie comes prominently into notice about this time. Its

proprietor is said to have begun life as a cobbler in Monmouth Street,

Seven Dials, then a famous mart of the second-hand clothes trade, and now

called Dudley Street. The steps by which he subsequently advanced to the

position of an importer of wild animals and proprietor of one of the

largest and finest collections that ever travelled are unknown; but that

he preceded Jamrach and Rice in the former vocation is proved by the

existence of a small yellow card, bearing the device of a tiger, and the

inscription--

WOMBWELL,

WILD BEAST MERCHANT,

_Commercial Road_,

LONDON.

_All sorts of Foreign Animals, Birds, &c., bought, sold, or exchanged, at

the Repository, or the Travelling Menagerie._

Wombwell never missed Bartholomew Fair, as long as it continued to be

held, but a story is told of him which shows that he was once very near

doing so. His menagerie was at Newcastle-on-Tyne within a fortnight of the

time when it should be in Smithfield, and it did not seem possible to

reach London in time; but, being in the metropolis on some business

connected with his Commercial Road establishment, he found that Atkins was

advertising that his menagerie would be "the only wild beast show in the

fair." The rivalry which appears to have existed at that time between the

two great menagerists prompted Wombwell to post down to Newcastle, and

immediately commence a forced march to London. By making extraordinary

exertions, he succeeded in reaching the metropolis on the morning of the

first day of the fair. But his elephant had exerted itself so much on the

journey that it died within a few hours after its arrival on the ground.

Atkins heard by some means of his rival's loss, and immediately placarded

the neighbourhood with the announcement that his menagerie contained "the

only living elephant in the fair." Wombwell resolved that his rival should

not make capital of his loss in this manner, and had a long strip of

canvas painted with the words--"The only dead elephant in the fair." This

bold bid for public patronage proved a complete success. A dead elephant

was a greater rarity than a live one, and his show was crowded every day

of the fair, while Atkins's was comparatively deserted. The keen rivalry

which this story illustrates did not endure for ever, for, during the

period of my earliest recollections, from forty to fifty years ago, the

two great menageries never visited Croydon Fair together, their

proprietors agreeing to take that popular resort in their tours in

alternate years.

I never failed, in my boyhood, to visit Wombwell's, or Atkins's show,

whichever visited Croydon Fair, and could never sufficiently admire the

gorgeously-uniformed bandsmen, whose brazen instruments brayed and blared

from noon till night on the exterior platform, and the immense pictures,

suspended from lofty poles, of elephants and giraffes, lions and tigers,

zebras, boa constrictors, and whatever else was most wonderful in the

brute creation, or most susceptible of brilliant colouring. The difference

in the scale to which the zoological rarities within were depicted on the

canvas, as compared with the figures of men that were represented, was a

very characteristic feature of these pictorial displays. The boa

constrictor was given the girth of an ox, and the white bear should have

been as large as an elephant, judged by the size of the sailors who were

attacking him among his native ice-bergs.

I have a perfect recollection of Wombwell's two famous lions, Nero and

Wallace, and their keeper, "Manchester Jack," as he was called, who used

to enter Nero's cage, and sit upon the animal, open his mouth, etc. It is

said that, when Van Amburgh arrived in England with his trained lions,

tigers, and leopards, arrangements were made for a trial of skill and

daring between him and Manchester Jack, which was to have taken place at

Southampton, but fell through, owing to the American showing the white

feather. The story seems improbable, for Van Amburgh's daring in his

performances has never been excelled.

Lion-tamers, like gymnasts, are generally killed half-a-dozen times by

rumour, though they die in their beds in about the same proportion as

other men; and I remember hearing an absurd story which conferred upon

Manchester Jack the unenviable distinction of having his head bitten off

by a lion. He was said to have been exhibiting the fool-hardy trick, with

which Van Amburgh's name was so much associated, of putting his head in

the lion's mouth, and to have been awakened to a sense of his temerity and

its consequences by hearing the animal growl, and feeling its jaw close

upon his neck.

"Does he whisk his tail, Bill?" he was reported to have said to another

keeper while in this horrible situation.

"Yes," replied Bill.

"Then I am a dead man!" groaned Manchester Jack.

A moment afterwards, the lion snapped its formidable jaws, and bit off the

keeper's head. Such was the story; but it is contradicted by the fact that

Manchester Jack left the menagerie with a whole skin, and for many years

afterwards kept an inn at Taunton, where he died in 1865.

Nero's tameness and docility made him a public favourite, but the "lion,"

_par excellence_, of Wombwell's show, after the lion-baitings at Warwick,

was Wallace. At the time when the terrible death of the lion-tamer,

Macarthy, had invested the subject with extraordinary interest, a

narrative appeared in the columns of a metropolitan morning journal,

purporting to relate the experiences of "an ex-lion king," in which the

story of these combats was revived, but in a manner not easily reconciled

with the statement of the man who communicated his reminiscences to the

"special commissioner" of the journal in question, that he knew the

animals and their keeper.

"Did you ever," the ex-lion king was reported to have said, "hear of old

Wallace's fight with the dogs? George Wombwell was at very low water, and

not knowing how to get his head up again, he thought of a fight between an

old lion he had--sometimes called Wallace, sometimes Nero--and a dozen of

mastiff dogs. Wallace was as tame as a sheep; I knew him well--I wish all

lions were like him. The prices of admission ranged from a guinea up to

five guineas, and every seat was taken, and had the menagerie been three

times as large it would have been full. It was a queer go, and no mistake!

Sometimes the old lion would scratch a lump out of a dog, and sometimes

the dogs would make as if they were going to worry the old lion; but

neither side showed any serious fight, and at length the patience of the

audience got exhausted, and they went away in disgust. George's excuse

was, 'We can't make 'em fight, can we, if they won't?' There was no

getting over this, and George cleared over two thousand pounds by the

night's work."

According to the newspaper reports of the time, two of these lion-baitings

took place; and some vague report or dim recollection of the events as

they actually occurred seems to have been in the mind of the "ex-lion

king" when he gave the preceding account of them. The combats were said to

have originated in a bet between two sporting gentlemen, and the dogs were

not a dozen mastiffs, but six bull-dogs, and attacked the lion in "heats"

of three. The first fight, the incidents of which were similar in

character to those described in the foregoing story, was between Nero and

the dogs, and took place in July, 1825; at which time the menagerie was

located in the Old Factory Yard, in the outskirts of Warwick, on the road

to Northampton. This not being considered satisfactory and conclusive, a

second encounter was arranged, in which Wallace, a younger animal, was

substituted for the old lion, with very different results. Every dog that

faced the lion was killed or disabled, the last being carried about in

Wallace's mouth as a rat is by a terrier or a cat.

Shows had been excluded from Greenwich Fair this year, and Bartholomew's

was looked forward to by the showmen as the more likely on that account to

yield an abundant harvest. Hone says that Greenwich Fair was this year

suppressed by the magistrates, and the absence of shows may be regarded as

evidence of some bungling and wrong-headed interference; but a score of

booths for drinking and dancing were there, only two of which, Algar's and

the Albion, made any charge for admission to the "assembly room," the

charge for tickets at these being a shilling and sixpence respectively.

Algar's was three hundred and twenty-three feet long by sixty wide,

seventy feet of the length constituting the refreshment department, and

the rest of the space being devoted to dancing, to the music of two harps,

three violins, bass viol, two clarionets, and flute.

According to the account preserved in Hone's 'Everyday Book,' the number

of shows assembled in Smithfield this year was twenty-two, of which, one

was a theatre for dramatic performances, five theatres for the various

entertainments usually given in circuses, four menageries, one an

exhibition of glass-blowing, one a peep-show, one a mare with seven feet,

and the remaining nine, exhibitions of giants, dwarfs, albinoes, fat

children, etc. Of course, the theatre was Richardson's, and the following

bill was posted on the exterior, and given to every one who asked for it

on entering:--

[Asterism] _Change of Performance each Day._

RICHARDSON'S THEATRE.

This day will be performed, an entire new Melo-Drama, called the

"WANDERING OUTLAW;

or, the Hour of Retribution.

"Gustavus, Elector of Saxony, _Mr. Wright_. Orsina, Baron of Holstein,

_Mr. Cooper_. Ulric and Albert, Vassals to Orsina, _Messrs. Grove_ and

_Moore_. St. Clair, the Wandering Outlaw, _Mr. Smith_. Rinalda, the

Accusing Spirit, _Mr. Darling_. Monks, Vassals, Hunters, &c. Rosabella,

Wife to the Outlaw, _Mrs. Smith_. Nuns and Ladies.

"The Piece concludes with the DEATH OF ORSINA, and the Appearance of the

ACCUSING SPIRIT!

"_The Entertainments to conclude with a New Comic Harlequinade, with New

Scenery, Tricks, Dresses, and Decorations, called_

"HARLEQUIN FAUSTUS

OR, THE

DEVIL WILL HAVE HIS OWN.

"Luciferno, _Mr. Thomas_. Dæmon Amozor, afterwards Pantaloon, _Mr.

Wilkinson_. Dæmon Ziokos, afterwards Clown, _Mr. Hayward_. Violencello

Player, _Mr. Hartem_. Baker, _Mr. Thompson_. Landlord, _Mr. Wilkins_.

Fisherman, _Mr. Rae_. Doctor Faustus, afterwards Harlequin, _Mr. Salter_.

Adelada, afterwards Columbine, _Miss Wilmot_. Attendant Dæmons, Sprites,

Fairies, Ballad Singers, Flower Girls, &c., &c.

_The Pantomime will finish with_

A SPLENDID PANORAMA,

_Painted by the First Artists_.

Boxes, 2_s._ Pit, 1_s._ Gallery, 6 _d._"

The theatre had an elevation exceeding thirty-feet, and occupied a

hundred feet in width. The back of the exterior platform, or

parade-waggon, was formed of green baize, before which deeply fringed

crimson curtains were festooned, except at two places where the

money-takers sat in wide and roomy projections, fitted up like Gothic

shrines, with columns and pinnacles. Fifteen hundred variegated lamps were

disposed over various parts of this platform, some of them depending from

the top in the shape of chandeliers and lustres, and others in wreaths and

festoons. A band of ten performers, in scarlet dresses, similar to those

worn by the Queen's yeomen, played continually, passing alternately from

the parade-waggon and the orchestra, and from the interior to the open air

again.

The auditorium was about a hundred feet long, and thirty feet wide, and

was hung with green baize and crimson festoons. The seats were rows of

planks, rising gradually from the ground at the end, and facing the stage,

without any distinction of boxes, pit, or gallery. The stage was elevated,

and there was a painted proscenium, with a green curtain, and the royal

arms above, and an orchestra lined with crimson cloth. Between the

orchestra and the bottom row of seats was a large space, which, after the

seats were filled, and greatly to the discomfiture of the lower

seat-holders, was nearly occupied by spectators. There were at least a

thousand persons present on the occasion of Hone's visit.

"The curtain drew up," he says, "and presented the Wandering Outlaw, with

a forest scene and a cottage; the next scene was a castle; the third was

another scene in the forest. The second act commenced with a scene of an

old church and a market-place. The second scene was a prison, and a ghost

appeared to the tune of the evening hymn. The third scene was the castle

that formed the second scene in the first act, and the performance was

here enlivened by a murder. The fourth scene was rocks, with a cascade,

and there was a procession to an unexecuted execution; for a ghost

appeared, and saved the Wandering Outlaw from a fierce-looking headsman,

and the piece ended. Then a plump little woman sang, 'He loves, and he

rides away,' and the curtain drew up to Harlequin Faustus, wherein, after

Columbine and a Clown, the most flaming character was the devil, with a

red face and hands, in a red Spanish mantle and vest, red 'continuations,'

stockings and shoes ditto to follow, a red Spanish hat and plume above,

and a red 'brass bugle horn.' As soon as the fate of Faustus was

concluded, the sound of a gong announced the happy event, and these

performances were, in a quarter of an hour, repeated to another equally

intelligent and brilliant audience."

John Clarke, an elderly, gentlemanly-looking showman, whom I saw a few

years afterwards "mountebanking" on a piece of waste land at Norwood, and

whose memory, in spite of his infirmity of temper, is cherished by the

existing generation of equestrians and acrobats, was here with his circus,

a large show, with its back against the side of Samwell's, and its front

in a line with Hosier Lane, and therefore looking towards Smithfield Bars.

The admission to this show was sixpence. The spacious platform outside was

lighted with gas, a distinction from the other shows in the fair which

extended to the interior, where a single hoop, about two feet six inches

in diameter, with little jets of gas about an inch and a half apart, was

suspended over the arena.

"The entertainment," says Hone, "commenced by a man dancing on the tight

rope. The rope was removed and a light bay horse was mounted by a female

in trousers, with a pink gown fully frilled, flounced, and ribboned, with

the shoulders in large puffs. While the horse circled the ring at full

speed, she danced upon him, and skipped with a hoop like a skipping-rope;

she performed other dexterous feats, and concluded by dancing on the

saddle with a flag in each hand, while the horse flew round the ring with

great velocity. These and the subsequent performances were enlivened by

tunes from a clarionet and horn, and jokes from a clown, who, when she had

concluded, said to an attendant, 'Now, John, take the horse off, and

whatever you do, rub him down well with a cabbage.' Then a man rode and

danced on another horse, a very fine animal, and leaped from him three

times over garters, placed at a considerable height and width apart,

alighting on the horse's back while he was going round. This rider was

remarkably dexterous.

"In conclusion, the clown got up, and rode with many antic tricks, till,

on the sudden, an apparently drunken fellow rushed from the audience into

the ring, and began to pull the clown from the horse. The manager

interfered, and the people cried, 'Turn him out;' but the man persisted,

and the clown getting off, offered to help him up, and threw him over the

horse's back to the ground. At length the intruder was seated, with his

face to the tail, though he gradually assumed a proper position, and,

riding as a man thoroughly intoxicated would ride, fell off; he then threw

off his hat and great coat, and his waistcoat, and then an under

waistcoat, and a third, and a fourth, and more than a dozen waistcoats.

Upon taking off the last, his trousers fell down, and he appeared in his

shirt; whereupon he crouched, and drawing his shirt off in a twinkling,

appeared in a handsome fancy dress, leaped into the saddle, rode standing

with great grace, received great applause, made his bows, and so the

performance concluded."

The remainder of the shows of this class charged a penny only for

admission. Of Samwell's, Hone says,--"I paid my penny to the money-taker,

a slender 'fine lady,' with three feathers in a 'jewelled turban,' and a

dress of blue and white muslin, and silver; and within-side I saw the

'fat, contented, easy' proprietor, who was arrayed in corresponding

magnificence. If he loved leanness, it was in 'his better half,' for

himself had none of it. Obesity had disqualified him for activity, and

therefore in his immensely tight and large satin jacket, he was, as much

as possible, the active commander of his active performers. He

superintended the dancing of a young female on the tight rope. Then he

announced 'A little boy will dance a horn-pipe on the rope,' and he

ordered his 'band' inside to play; this was obeyed without difficulty, for

it merely consisted of one man, who blew a hornpipe tune on a Pan's-pipe;

while it went on, the little boy danced on the tight rope; so far it was a

hornpipe dance, and no farther. 'The little boy will stand on his head on

the rope,' said the manager; and the little boy stood on his head

accordingly. Then another female danced on the slack wire; and after her

came a horse, not a dancing horse, but a 'learned' horse, quite as learned

as the horse at Ball's theatre."

At the show last mentioned was a man who balanced chairs on his chin, and

holding a knife in his mouth, balanced a sword on the edge of the knife;

he then put a pewter plate on the hilt of the sword horizontally, and so

balanced the sword with the plate on the edge of the knife as before, the

plate having previously had imparted to it a rotary motion, which it

communicated to the sword, and preserved during the balance. He also

balanced the sword and plate in like manner, with a crown-piece placed

edge-wise between the point of the sword and the knife; and afterwards

with two crown-pieces, and then with a key. These feats were accompanied

by the jokes and grimaces of a clown, and succeeded by an acrobatic

performance by boys, and a hornpipe by the lady of the company. Then a

learned horse was introduced, and, as desired by his master, indicated a

lady who wished to be married, a gentleman who preferred a quart of ale to

a sermon, a lady who liked lying in bed when she should be up, and other

persons of various proclivities amusing to the rest of the spectators.

Chappell and Pike's was a very large show, fitted up after the manner of

Richardson's, with a parade, on which a clown and several acrobats in

tights and trunks, and young ladies in ballet costume, alternately

promenaded and danced, until the interior filled, and the performances

commenced. These consisted of tumbling, slack-rope dancing, etc., as at

Ball's, but better executed. The names of these showmen do not appear

again in the records of the London fairs, from which it may be inferred

that the show was a new venture, and failed. There was a performer named

Chappell in the company of Richardson's theatre, while under the

management of Nelson Lee; but whether related to the showman of 1825 I am

unable to say.

The performances of "Brown's Grand Troop, from Paris," commenced with an

exhibition of conjuring; among other tricks, the conjurer gave a boy beer

to drink out of a funnel, making him blow through it to show that it was

empty, and afterwards applying it to each of the boy's ears, from whence,

through the funnel, the beer appeared to reflow, and poured on the ground.

Afterwards girls danced on the single and double slack wire, and a

melancholy-looking clown, among other things, said they were "as clever

as the barber and blacksmith who shaved magpies at twopence a dozen." The

show concluded with a learned horse.

The menageries of Wombwell and Atkins were two of the largest shows in the

fair. The back of the former abutted on the side of Chappell and Pike's

theatre, on the north side of Smithfield, with the front looking towards

Giltspur Street, at which avenue it was the first show. The front was

entirely covered with painted show-cloths representing the animals, with

the proprietor's name in immense letters above, and the inscription, "The

Conquering Lion," very conspicuously displayed. There were other

show-cloths along the whole length of the side, surmounted by this

inscription, stretching out in one line of large capital letters, "Nero

and Wallace, the same lions that fought at Warwick." One of the front

show-cloths represented the second fight; a lion stood up, with a bleeding

dog in his mouth, and his left fore paw resting upon another dog. A third

dog was in the act of flying at him ferociously, and one, wounded and

bleeding, was retreating. There were seven other show-cloths on this

front, with the inscription "Nero and Wallace" between them. One of these

show-cloths, whereon the monarch of the forest was painted, was

inscribed, "Nero, the Great Lion, from Caffraria."

Wombwell's collection comprised at this time four lions and a lioness, two

leopardesses, with cubs, a hyena, a bitch wolf and cubs, a polar bear, a

pair of zebras, two onagers or wild asses, and a large assortment of

monkeys and exotic birds. The bills announced "a remarkably fine tigress

in the same den with a noble British lion;" but Hone notes that this

conjunction, the announcement of which was probably suggested by the

attractiveness of the lion-tiger cubs and their parents in Atkins's

menagerie, was not to be seen in reality. The combats at Warwick produced

a strong desire on the part of the public to see the lions who had figured

in them, and the menagerie was crowded each day from morn till night.

"Manchester Jack" entered Nero's cage, and invited the visitors to follow,

which many ventured to do, paying sixpence for the privilege, on his

assurance that they might do so with perfect safety.

Hone complains of the confusion and disorder which prevailed, and which

are inseparable from a crowd, and may be not uncharitably suspected of

being exaggerated in some degree by the evident prejudice which had been

created in his mind by the lion-baitings at Warwick. It is certain,

however, that gardens like those of the Zoological Society afford

conditions for the health and comfort of the animals, and for their

exhibition to the public, much more favourable than can be obtained in the

best regulated travelling caravan, or in buildings such as the Tower

menagerie and Exeter Change. It is impossible to do justice to animals

which are cooped within the narrow limits of a travelling show, or in any

place which does not admit of thorough ventilation. Apart from the

impracticability of allowing sufficient space and a due supply of air, a

considerable amount of discomfort to the animals is inseparable from

continuous jolting about the country in caravans, and from the braying of

brass bands and the glare of gas at evening exhibitions.

It took even the Zoological Society some time to learn the conditions most

favourable to the maintenance of the mammal tribes of tropical countries

in a state of health, while subject to the restraint necessary for their

safe keeping. Too much importance was at first attached to warming the

cages in which the monkeys and carnivora of India and Africa were kept,

and too little to ventilating them. I remember the time when the

carnivora-house in the Society's gardens was a long, narrow building, with

double folding-doors at each end, and a range of cages on each side. The

cages were less than half the size of the light and lofty apartments now

appropriated to the same species, and were artificially heated to such a

degree that the atmosphere resembled that of the small glass-house in Kew

Gardens in which the paper-reed and other examples of the aquatic

vegetation of tropical countries are grown, and was rendered more stifling

by the strong ammoniacal odour which constantly prevaded it.

It was found, however, that the mortality among the animals,

notwithstanding all the care that was taken to keep them warm, was very

great; and the idea gradually dawned upon the minds of the Council of the

Society that ventilation might be more conducive to the health and

longevity of the animals than any amount of heat. As lions and tigers,

leopards and hyenas, baboons and monkeys, live, in a state of nature, in

the open air of their native forests, the imperfect ventilation of the old

carnivora-house and monkey-house seemed, when once the idea was broached,

to be a very likely cause of the excessive mortality, which, as lions and

tigers cost from a hundred and fifty to two hundred and fifty pounds, was

a constant source of heavy demands upon the Society's funds. It was

determined, therefore, to try the experiment of constructing larger cages,

and admitting the pure external air to them; and the results were so

satisfactory that everybody wondered that the improved hygienic conditions

had not been thought of before.

Atkins had a very fine collection of the feline genus, and was famous for

the production of hybrids between the lion and the tigress. The cubs so

produced united some of the external characteristics of both parents,

their colour being tawny, marked while they were young with darker

stripes, such as may be observed in black kittens, the progeny of a tabby

cat. These markings disappeared, however, as the lion-tigers approached

maturity, at which time the males had the mane entirely deficient, or very

little developed. I remember seeing a male puma and a leopardess in the

same cage in this menagerie, but I am unable to state whether the union

was fruitful.

The display of show-cloths on the outside of this menagerie extended about

forty feet in length, and the proprietor's name flamed along the front in

coloured lamps. A brass band of eight performers, wearing scarlet tunics

and leopard-skin caps, played on the outside; and Atkins shouted from time

to time, "Don't be deceived! The great performing elephant is _here_; also

the only lion and tigress in one den to be seen in the fair, or I'll

forfeit a thousand guineas! Walk up!--walk up!"

The following singularly descriptive bill was posted on the outside and

wherever else it could be displayed:--

"MORE WONDERS IN

ATKINS'S ROYAL MENAGERIE.

Under the Patronage of HIS MAJESTY.

G. [Illustration] R.

"Wonderful Phenomenon in Nature! The singular and hitherto deemed

impossible occurrence of a LION and TIGRESS cohabiting and producing

young, has actually taken place in this menagerie, at Windsor. The

tigress, on Wednesday, the 27th of October last, produced _three fine

cubs_; one of them strongly resembles the tigress; the other two are of a

lighter colour, but striped. Mr. Atkins had the honour (through the kind

intervention of the Marquis of Conyngham) of exhibiting the _lion-tigers_

to His Majesty, on the first of November, 1824, at the Royal Lodge,

Windsor Great Park; when His Majesty was pleased to observe, they were the

greatest curiosity of the beast creation he had ever witnessed.

"The royal striped _Bengal Tigress_ has again whelped three fine cubs,

(April 22,) two males and one female; the males are white, but striped;

the female resembles the tigress, and, singular to observe, she fondles

them with all the care of an attentive mother. The sire of the young cubs

is the noble male lion. This remarkable instance of subdued temper and

association of animals to permit the keeper to enter their den, and

introduce their young to the spectators, is the greatest phenomenon in

natural philosophy.

"That truly singular and wonderful animal, the AUROCHOS. Words can only

convey but a very confused idea of this animal's shape, for there are few

so remarkably formed. Its head is furnished with two large horns, growing

from the forehead, in a form peculiar to no other animal; from the

nostrils to the forehead is a stiff tuft of hair, and underneath the jaw

to the neck is a similar brush of hair, and between the forelegs is hair

growing about a foot and a half long. The mane is like that of a horse,

white, tinged with black, with a beautiful long flowing white tail; the

eye remarkably keen, and as large as the eye of the elephant: colour of

the animal, dark chesnut; the appearance of the head, in some degree

similar to the buffalo, and in some part formed like the goat, the hoof

being divided; such is the general outline of this quadruped, which seems

to partake of several species. This beautiful animal was brought over by

Captain White, from the south of Africa, and landed in England, September

20th, 1823; and is the same animal so frequently mistaken by travellers

for the unicorn: further to describe its peculiarities would occupy too

much space in a handbill. The only one in England.

"That colossal animal, the wonderful performing

ELEPHANT,

Upwards of ten feet high!! Five tons weight!! His consumption of hay,

corn, straw, carrots, water, &c., exceeds 800 lbs. daily. The elephant,

the human race excepted, is the most respectable of animals. In size, he

surpasses all other terrestrial creatures, and by far exceeds any other

travelling animal in England. He has ivory tusks, four feet long, one

standing out on each side of his trunk. His trunk serves him instead of

hands and arms, with which he can lift up and seize the smallest as well

as the largest objects. He alone drags machines which six horses cannot

move. To his prodigious strength, he adds courage, prudence, and an exact

obedience. He remembers favours as well as injuries; in short, the

sagacity and knowledge of this extraordinary animal are beyond anything

human imagination can possibly suggest. He will lie down and get up at the

word of command, notwithstanding the many fabulous tales of their having

no joints in their legs. He will take a sixpence from the floor, and place

it in a box he has in the caravan; bolt and unbolt a door; take his

keeper's hat off, and replace it; and by the command of his keeper, will

perform so many wonderful tricks that he will not only astonish and

entertain the audience, but justly prove himself the half-reasoning beast.

He is the only elephant now travelling.

"A full grown LION and LIONESS with four cubs, produced December 12, 1824,

at Cheltenham.

"_Male Bengal Tiger._ Next to the lion, the tiger is the most tremendous

of the carnivorous class; and whilst he possesses all the bad qualities of

the former, seems to be a stranger to the good ones; to pride, to

strength, to courage, the lion adds greatness, and sometimes, perhaps,

clemency; while the tiger, without provocation, is fierce--without

necessity, is cruel. Instead of instinct, he hath nothing but a uniform

rage, a blind fury; so blind, indeed, so undistinguishing, that he

frequently devours his own progeny; and if the tigress offers to defend

them he tears in pieces the dam herself.

"The _Onagra_, a native of the Levant, the eastern parts of Asia, and the

northern parts of Africa. This race differs from the Zebra, by the size of

the body, (which is larger,) slenderness of the legs, and lustre of the

hair. The only one now alive in England.

"_Two Zebras_, one full grown, the other in its infant state, in which it

seems as if the works of art had been combined with those of nature in

this wonderful production. In symmetry of shape, and beauty of colour, it

is the most elegant of all quadrupeds ever presented; uniting the graceful

figure of a horse, with the fleetness of a stag; beautifully striped with

regular lines, black and white.

"A Nepaul _Bison_, only twenty-four inches high.

"_Panther_, or spotted tiger of Buenos Ayres, the only one travelling.

"A pair of _rattle-tail Porcupines_.

"Striped untamable _Hyæna_, a tiger-wolf.

"An elegant _Leopard_, the handsomest marked animal ever seen.

"Spotted _Laughing Hyæna_, the same kind of animal described never to be

tamed; but, singular to observe, it is perfectly tame, and its attachment

to a dog in the same den is very remarkable.

"The spotted _Cavy_.

"Pair of _Jackalls_.

"Pair of interesting _Sledge Dogs_, brought over by Captain Parry from one

of the northern expeditions; they are used by the Esquimaux to draw the

sledges on the ice, which they accomplish with great velocitv.

"A pair of _Rackoons_, from North America.

"The _Oggouta_, from Java.

"A pair of Jennetts, or wild cats.

"The _Coatimondi_, or ant-eater.

"A pair of those extraordinary and rare birds, PELICANS of the wilderness;

the only two alive in the three kingdoms.--These birds have been

represented on all crests and coats of arms, to cut their breasts open

with the points of their bills, and feed their young with their own blood,

and are justly allowed by all authors to be the greatest curiosity of the

feathered tribe.

"_Ardea Dubia_, or adjutant of Bengal, gigantic emew, or Linnæus's

southern ostrich. The peculiar characteristics that distinguish this bird

from the rest of the feathered tribe,--it comes from Brazil, in the new

continent; it stands from eight to nine feet high when full grown; it is

too large to fly, but is capable of outrunning the fleetest horses of

Arabia; what is still more singular, every quill produces two feathers.

The only one travelling.

"A pair of rapacious _Condor Minors_, from the interior of South America,

the largest birds of flight in the world when full grown; it is the same

kind of bird the Indians have asserted to carry off a deer or young calf

in their talons, and two of them are sufficient to destroy a buffalo, and

the wings are as much as eighteen feet across.

"The great _Horned Owl_ of Bohemia. Several species of gold and silver

pheasants, of the most splendid plumage, from China and Peru.

Yellow-crested cockatoo. Scarlet and buff macaws.--Admittance to see the

whole menagerie, 1_s._--Children 6_d._--Open from ten in the forenoon till

feeding-time, half-past nine, 2_s._"

Hone says that this menagerie was thoroughly clean, and that the condition

of the animals told that they were well taken care of. The elephant, with

his head protruded between the stout bars of his house, whisked his

proboscis diligently in search of eatables from the spectators, who

supplied him with fruit and biscuits, or handed him halfpence which he

uniformly conveyed by his trunk to a retailer of gingerbread, and got his

money's worth in return. Then he unbolted the door to let in his keeper,

and bolted it after him; took up a sixpence with his trunk, lifted the lid

of a little box fixed against the wall, and deposited it within it, and

some time afterwards relifted the lid, and taking out the sixpence with a

single motion, returned it to the keeper; he knelt down when told, fired

off a blunderbuss, took off the keeper's hat, and afterwards replaced it

on his head as well as the man's hand could have done it; in short, he was

perfectly docile, and well maintained the reputation of his species for a

high degree of intelligence.

"The keeper," says Hone, "showed every animal in an intelligent manner,

and answered the questions of the company readily and with civility. His

conduct was rewarded by a good parcel of halfpence when his hat went round

with a hope that 'the ladies and gentlemen would not forget the keeper

before he showed the lion and tigress.' The latter was a beautiful young

animal, with playful cubs about the size of bull-dogs, but without the

least fierceness. When the man entered the den, they frolicked and climbed

about him like kittens; he took them up in his arms, bolted them in a back

apartment, and after playing with the tigress a little, threw back a

partition which separated her den from the lion's, and then took the lion

by the beard. This was a noble animal; he was couching, and being inclined

to take his rest, only answered the keeper's command to rise by extending

his whole length, and playfully putting up one of his magnificent paws, as

a cat does when in a good humour. The man then took a short whip, and

after a smart lash or two upon his back, the lion rose with a yawn, and

fixed his eye on his keeper with a look that seemed to say, 'Well, I

suppose I must humour you.'

"The man then sat down at the back of the den, with his back at the

partition, and after some ordering and coaxing, the tigress sat on his

right hand, and the lion on his left, and, all three being thus seated,

he threw his arms round their necks, played with their noses, and laid

their heads in his lap. He rose, and the animals with him; the lion stood

in a fine majestic position, but the tigress reared, and putting one foot

over his shoulder, and patting him with the other, as if she had been

frolicking with one of her cubs, he was obliged to check her playfulness.

Then by coaxing, and pushing him about, he caused the lion to sit down,

and while in that position opened the animal's ponderous jaws with his

hands, and thrust his face down into the lion's throat, wherein he

shouted, and there held his head nearly a minute. After this he held up a

common hoop for the tigress to leap through, and she did it frequently.

The lion seemed more difficult to move to this sport. He did not appear to

be excited by command or entreaty; at last, however, he went through the

hoop, and having been once roused, he repeated the action several times;

the hoop was scarcely two feet in diameter. The exhibition of these two

animals concluded by the lion lying down on his side, when the keeper

stretched himself to his whole length upon him, and then calling to the

tigress she jumped upon the man, extended herself with her paws upon his

shoulders, placed her face sideways upon his, and the whole three lay

quiescent till the keeper suddenly slipped himself off the lion's side,

with the tigress on him, and the trio gambolled and rolled about on the

floor of the den, like playful children on the floor of a nursery.

"Of the beasts there is not room to say more than that their number was

surprising, considering that they formed a better selected collection, and

showed in higher condition from cleanliness and good feeding, than any

assemblage I ever saw. Their variety and beauty, with the usual accessory

of monkeys, made a splendid picture. The birds were equally admirable,

especially the pelicans and the emew. This show would have furnished a

dozen sixpenny shows, at least, to a Bartlemy Fair twenty years ago."

The other menageries were penny shows. One was Ballard's, of which the

great attraction was still, though nine years had elapsed since the event,

the lioness which attacked the Exeter mail-coach. The collection contained

besides a fine lion, a tiger, a large polar bear, and several smaller

quadrupeds, monkeys, and birds. Hone has not preserved the name of the

owner of the fourth collection, which he says was "a really good

exhibition of a fine lion, with leopards, and various other beasts of the

forest. They were mostly docile and in good condition. One of the leopards

was carried by his keeper a pick-a-back." This was probably Morgan's,

which we find at this fair three years later.

The daily cost of the food of the animals in a menagerie is no trifle. The

amount of animal food required for the carnivora in a first class

menagerie is about four hundredweight daily, consisting chiefly of the

shins, hearts, and heads of bullocks. A full-grown lion or tiger will

consume twelve pounds of meat per day, and this is said to have been the

allowance in Wombwell's menagerie; but it is more, I believe, than is

allowed in the gardens of the Zoological Society. Bears are allowed meat

only in the winter, their food at other seasons consisting of bread,

sopped biscuit, or boiled rice, sweetened with sugar. Then there are the

elephants, camels, antelopes, etc., to be provided for; and the quantity

of hay, cabbages, bread, and boiled rice which an elephant will consume,

in addition to the buns and biscuits given to it by the visitors, is, as

Dominie Sampson would say, prodigious. There is a story told of an

elephant belonging to a travelling menagerie which escaped from the stable

in which it had been placed for the night, and, wandering through the

village, found a baker's shop open. It pushed its head in, and, helping

itself with its trunk, devoured sixteen four-pound loaves, and was

beginning to empty the glass jars of the sweets they contained when the

arrival of its keeper interrupted its stolen repast.

I now come to the minor exhibitions, of which the first from Hosier Lane,

where it stood at the corner, was a peep-show, in which rudely painted

pictures were successively lowered by the showmen, and viewed through

circular apertures, fitted with glasses of magnifying power. A green

curtain separated the spectators from the outer throng while they gazed

upon such strangely contrasted scenes as the murder of Weare and the Queen

of Sheba's visit to Solomon, the execution of Probert and the conversion

of St. Paul, the Greenland whale fishery and the building of Babel,

Wellington at Waterloo and Daniel in the lions' den!

Next to this stood a show, on the exterior of which a man beat a drum with

one hand, and played a hurdy-gurdy with the other, pausing occasionally to

invite the gazers to walk up, and see the living wonders thus announced on

the show-cloths:--"_Miss Hipson, the Middlesex Wonder, the Largest Child

in the Kingdom, when young the Handsomest Child in the World.--The Persian

Giant.--The Fair Circassian with Silver Hair.--The Female Dwarf, Two Feet

Eleven Inches high.--Two Wild Indians from the Malay Islands in the

East._" When a company had collected, the wonders were shown from the

floor of a caravan on wheels, one side being taken out, and replaced by a

curtain, which was drawn or thrown back as occasion required. After the

audience had dispersed, Hone was permitted by the proprietor of the show,

Nicholas Maughan, of Ipswich, to go "behind the curtain," where the artist

who accompanied him completed his sketches for the illustrations in the

'Every-day Book,' while Hone entered into conversation with the persons

exhibited.

"Miss Hipson, only twelve years of age, is," he says, "remarkably

gigantic, or rather corpulent, for her age, pretty, well-behaved, and

well-informed; she weighed sixteen stone a few months before, and has

since increased in size; she has ten brothers and sisters, nowise

remarkable in appearance: her father, who is dead, was a bargeman at

Brentford. The name of the 'little lady' is Lydia Walpole; she was born at

Addiscombe, near Yarmouth, and is sociable, agreeable, and intelligent.

The fair Circassian is of pleasing countenance and manners. The Persian

giant is a good-natured, tall, stately negro. The two Malays could not

speak English, except three words, 'drop o' rum,' which they repeated with

great glee. One of them, with long hair reaching below the waist,

exhibited the posture of drawing a bow. Mr. Maughan described them as

being passionate, and showed me a severe wound on his finger which the

little one had given him by biting, while he endeavoured to part him and

his countryman, during a quarrel a few days ago. A 'female giant' was one

of the attractions of this exhibition, but she could not be shown for

illness: Miss Hipson described her to be a very good young woman.

"There was an appearance of ease and good condition, with content of mind,

in the persons composing this show, which induced me to put several

questions to them, and I gathered that I was not mistaken in my

conjecture. They described themselves as being very comfortable, and that

they were taken great care of, and well treated by the proprietor, Mr.

Maughan, and his partner in the show. The 'little lady' had a thorough

good character from Miss Hipson as an affectionate creature; and it seems

the females obtained exercise by rising early, and being carried out into

the country in a post-chaise, where they walked, and thus maintained their

health. This was to me the most pleasing show in the fair."

Between this show and Richardson's theatre was a small temporary stable,

in which was exhibited a mare with seven feet: the admission to this sight

was threepence. The following is a copy of the printed bill:--

"To Sportsmen and Naturalists.--Now exhibiting, one of the greatest living

natural curiosities in the world; namely, a thorough-bred chesnut MARE,

with seven legs! four years of age, perfectly sound, free from blemish,

and shod on six of her feet. She is very fleet in her paces, being

descended from that famous horse Julius Cæsar, out of a thorough-bred race

mare descended from Eclipse, and is remarkably docile and temperate. She

is the property of Mr. J. Checketts, of Belgrave hall, Leicestershire; and

will be exhibited for a few days as above."

Each of this mare's hind legs, besides its natural foot, had another

growing out from the fetlock joint; one of these additions was nearly the

size of the natural foot; the third and least grew from the same joint of

the fore leg. Andrews, the exhibitor, told Hone that they grew slowly, and

that the new hoofs were, at first, very soft, and exuded during the

process of growth.

The line of shows on the east side of Smithfield, commencing at Long Lane,

began with an exhibition of an Indian woman, a Chinese lady, and a dwarf;

and next to this stood a small exhibition of wax-figures, to which a dwarf

and a Maori woman were added. On a company being assembled, the showman

made a speech: "Ladies and gentlemen, before I show you the wonderful

prodigies of nature, let me introduce you to the wonderful works of art;"

and then he drew a curtain, behind which the wax-figures stood. "This,"

said he, "ladies and gentlemen, is the famous old Mother Shipton; and here

is the unfortunate Jane Shore, the beautiful mistress of Edward the

Fourth; next to her is his Majesty George the Fourth of most glorious

memory; and this is Queen Elizabeth in all her glory; then here you have

the Princess Amelia, the daughter of his late Majesty, who is dead; this

is Mary, Queen of Scots, who had her head cut off; and this is O'Brien,

the famous Irish giant; this man here is Thornton, who was tried for the

murder of Mary Ashford; and this is the exact resemblance of Othello, the

Moor of Venice, who was a jealous husband, and depend upon it every man

who is jealous of his wife will be as black as that negro. Now, ladies and

gentlemen, the two next are a wonderful couple, John and Margaret Scott,

natives of Dunkeld, in Scotland; they lived about ninety years ago; John

Scott was a hundred and five years old when he died, and Margaret lived to

be a hundred and twelve; and, what is more remarkable, there is not a soul

living can say he ever heard them quarrel."

Here he closed the curtain, and while undrawing another, continued his

address as follows: "Having shown you the dead, I have now to exhibit to

you two of the most extraordinary wonders of the living; this is the

widow of a New Zealand chief, and this is the little old woman of Bagdad;

she is thirty inches high, twenty-two years of age, and a native of

Boston, in Lincolnshire."

The next show announced, for one penny, "_The Black Wild Indian Woman--The

White Indian Youth--and the Welsh Dwarf--All Alive!_" There was this

further announcement on the outside: "_The Young American will Perform

after the Manner of the French Jugglers at Vauxhall Gardens, with Balls,

Rings, Daggers, &c._" The Welsh dwarf was William Phillips, of Denbigh,

fifteen years of age. The "White Indian youth" was an Esquimaux; and the

exhibitor assured the visitors upon his veracity that the "black wild

Indian woman" was a Court lady of the island of Madagascar. The young

American was the exhibitor himself, an intelligent and clever fellow in a

loose striped frock, tied round the middle. He commenced his performances

by throwing up three balls, which he kept constantly in the air, as he

afterwards did four, and then five, with great dexterity, using his hands,

shoulders, and elbows apparently with equal ease. He afterwards threw up

three rings, each about four inches in diameter, and then four, which he

kept in motion with similar success. To end his performance, he produced

three knives, which, by throwing up and down, he contrived to preserve in

the air altogether. The young American's dress and knives were very

similar to those of the Anglo-Saxon glee-man, as Strutt has figured them

from a MS. in the Cotton collection.

The inscriptions and paintings on the outside of the next show announced

"_The White Negro, who was rescued from her Black Parents by the bravery

of a British Officer--the only White Negro Girl Alive--The Great Giantess

and Dwarf--Six Curiosities Alive!--Only a Penny to see them All Alive!_"

One side of the interior was covered by a pictorial representation of a

tread-mill, with convicts at work upon it, superintended by warders. On

the other side were several monkeys in cages, an old bear in a jacket, and

sundry other animals. When a sufficient number of persons had assembled, a

curtain was withdrawn, and the visitors beheld the giantess and the white

negro, whom the showman pronounced "the greatest curiosity ever seen--the

first that has been exhibited since the reign of George II.--look at her

head and hair, ladies and gentlemen, and feel it; there's no

deception--it's like ropes of wool!" The girl, who had the flat nose,

thick lips, and peculiarly-shaped skull of the negro, stooped to have her

hair examined. It was of a dull flaxen hue, and hung, according to Hone's

description, "in ropes, of a clothy texture, the thickness of a quill, and

from four to six inches in length." Her skin was the colour of an

European's. Then there stepped forth a little fellow about three feet

high, in a military dress, with top boots, who "strutted his tiny legs,

and held his head aloft with not less importance than the proudest general

officer could assume upon his promotion to the rank of field marshal."

The next show was announced as an "exhibition of real wonders," and the

following bill was put forth by its proprietor:--

"REAL WONDERS!

SEE AND BELIEVE.

Have you seen

THE BEAUTIFUL DOLPHIN,

_The Performing Pig, and the Mermaid_?

If not, pray do! as the exhibition contains more variety than any other in

England. Those ladies and gentlemen who may be pleased to honour it with a

visit will be truly gratified.

TOBY,

_The Swinish Philosopher, and Ladies' Fortune Teller_.

That beautiful animal appears to be endowed with the natural sense of the

human race. He is in colour the most beautiful of his race; in symmetry

the most perfect; in temper the most docile; and far exceeds anything yet

seen for his intelligent performances. He is beyond all conception: he has

a perfect knowledge of the alphabet, understands arithmetic, and will

spell and cast accounts, tell the points of the globe, the dice-box, the

hour by any person's watch, &c.

_The Real Head of_

MAHOURA,

THE CANNIBAL CHIEF!

At the same time the public will have an opportunity of seeing what was

exhibited so long in London, under the title of

THE MERMAID:

The wonder of the deep! not a fac-simile or copy, but the same curiosity

ADMISSION MODERATE.

[Asterism] _Open from Eleven in the Morning till Nine in the Evening._"

Foremost among the attractions of this show were the performing pig and

the show-woman, who drew forth the learning of the "swinish philosopher"

admirably. He went through the alphabet, and spelt monosyllabic words with

his nose; and did a sum of two figures in addition. Then, at her desire,

he indicated those of the company who were in love, or addicted to excess

in drink; and grunted his conviction that a stout gentleman, who might

have sat to John Leech for the portrait of John Bull "loved good eating,

and a pipe, and a jug of ale better than the sight of the Living

Skeleton." The "beautiful dolphin" was a fish-skin stuffed. The mermaid

was the last manufactured imposture of that name, exhibited for

half-a-crown in Piccadilly, about a year before. The "real head of

Mahoura, the cannibal chief," was a skull, with a dried skin over it, and

a black wig; "but it looked sufficiently terrific," says Hone, "when the

show-woman put the candle in at the neck, and the flame illuminated the

yellow integument over the holes where eyes, nose, and a tongue had been."

Adjoining this was another penny show, with pictures large as life on the

show-cloths outside of the living wonders within, and the following

inscription:--"_All Alive! No False Paintings! The Wild Indian, the Giant

Boy, and the Dwarf Family! Never here before. To be seen alive!_" Thomas

Day, the reputed father of the dwarf family, was also proprietor of the

show; he was thirty-five years of age, and only thirty-five inches high.

There was a boy six years old, only twenty-seven inches high. The "wild

Indian" was a mild-looking mulatto. The "giant boy," William Wilkinson

Whitehead, was fourteen years of age, stood five feet two inches high,

measured five feet round the body, twenty-seven inches across the

shoulders, twenty inches round the arm, twenty-four inches round the calf,

and thirty-one inches round the thigh, and weighed twenty-two stones. His

father and mother were "travelling merchants" of Manchester; he was born

at Glasgow, during one of their journeys, and was a fine healthy youth,

fair complexioned, intelligent looking, active in his movements, and

sensible in speech. He was lightly dressed in plaid to show his limbs,

with a bonnet of the same.

Holden's glass-working and blowing was the last show on the east side of

Smithfield, and was limited to a single caravan. The first on the south

side, with its side towards Cloth Fair, and the back towards the corner of

Duke Street, presented pictures of a giant, a giantess, and an Indian

chief, with the inscription, "_They're all alive! Be assured they're all

alive! The Yorkshire Giantess--Waterloo Giant--Indian Chief. Only a

penny!_" An overgrown girl was the Yorkshire giantess. A tall man with his

hair frizzed and powdered, aided by a military coat and a plaid

roquelaire, made the Waterloo giant.

Next to this stood another show of the same kind and quality, the

attractions of which were a giantess and two dwarfs. The giantess was a

Somerset girl, who arose from the chair whereon she was seated to the

height of six feet nine inches and three-quarters, with "Ladies and

gentlemen, your most obedient." She was good-looking and affable, and

obliged the company by taking off her tight-fitting slipper, and handing

it round for their examination. It was of such dimensions that the largest

man present could have put his booted foot into it. She said that her name

was Elizabeth Stock, and that she was only sixteen years of age. This

completed the number of shows pitched in Smithfield in 1825.

There was a visible falling off in the following year, when the number of

shows diminished to eight. The west side of Giltspur Street, along its

whole length, was occupied by book-stalls; and grave-looking men in black

suits, with white cravats, looking like waiters out of employment, walked

solemnly through the fair, giving to all who would take them tracts headed

with the startling question--"_Are you prepared to die?_" Richardson's

theatre was there, and Clarke's circus; but Samwell, and Ball, and

Chappell and Pike did not attend, and Wombwell's was the only menagerie.

"Brown's grand company, from Paris," presented a juggling and tight-rope

performance, with the learned horse, and a clown who extracted musical

sounds from a salt-box, with the aid of a rolling-pin; Holden, the

glass-blower, in a glass wig, made tea-cups for threepence each, and

tobacco-pipes for a penny; the learned pig displayed his acquirements in

orthography and arithmetic; there was a twopenny exhibition of

rattlesnakes and young crocodiles, hatched by steam from imported eggs;

and a show in which a dwarf and a "silver-haired lady" were exhibited for

a penny.

Among the unique of the living curiosities exhibited by the showmen of

this period was the famous spotted boy, described in the bills issued by

his original exhibitor as "one of those wonderful productions of Nature,

which excite the curiosity, and gratify the beholder with the surprising

works of the Creator; he is the progeny of Negroes, being beautifully

covered over by a diversity of spots of transparent brown and white; his

hair is interwoven, black and white alternately, in a most astonishing

manner; his countenance is interesting, with limbs finely proportioned;

his ideas are quick and penetrating, yet his infantine simplicity is truly

captivating. He must be seen to convince; it is not in the power of

language to convey an adequate idea of this Fanciful Child of Nature,

formed in her most playful mood, and allowed by every lady and gentleman

that has seen it, the greatest curiosity ever beheld. May be seen from

Ten in the Morning till Ten in the Evening. Admittance for Ladies and

Gentlemen 1_s._ Servants and Children half price. Ladies and Gentlemen

wishing to see this Wonderful Child at their own houses, may be

accommodated by giving a few hours' notice. Copper plate Likenesses of the

Boy may be had at the Place of Exhibition."

Richardson introduced this boy several seasons, between the drama and the

pantomime; and became so much attached to him that he directed, by his

will, that he should be buried in the grave in which, a few years before,

he had deposited the remains of the lively, docile, and affectionate

African lad, in the church-yard of Great Marlow.

I have found no account of the number of shows which attended Bartholomew

Fair in 1827, but in the following year they must have been nearly as

numerous as in 1825, an enumeration of the principal ones reaching to

sixteen. All the menageries attended, and, besides Richardson's and Ball's

theatres, Keyes and Laine's, Frazer's, Pike's, and a couple of clever

Chinese jugglers. The receipts of these and the other principal shows were

returned, in round numbers, as follows:--Wombwell's menagerie, £1,700;

Richardson's theatre, £1,200; Atkins's menagerie, £1,000; Morgan's

menagerie, £150; exhibition of "the pig-faced lady," £150; ditto, fat boy

and girl, £140; ditto, head of William Corder, who was hanged at

Chelmsford for the murder of Maria Martin, a crime which had created a

great sensation, owing to its discovery through a dream of the victim's

mother, £100; Ballard's menagerie, £90; Ball's theatre, £80; diorama of

the battle of Navarino, £60; the Chinese jugglers, £50; Pike's theatre,

£40; a fire-eater, £30; Frazer's theatre, £26; Keyes and Laine's theatre,

£20; exhibition of a Scotch giant, £20. Some curious lights are thrown by

these figures on the comparative attractiveness of different

entertainments and exhibitions.

Considerable excitement was created among the visitors to the fair in the

following year by the announcement that Wombwell had on exhibition "that

most wonderful animal, the bonassus, being the first of the kind which had

ever been brought to Europe." As no one had ever seen or heard of the

animal before, or had the faintest conception of what it was, the curious

flocked in crowds to see the beast, which proved to be a very fine bull

bison, or American buffalo. Under the name given to it by Wombwell, it was

introduced into the epilogue of the Westminster play as one of the wonders

of the year. It was afterwards sold by Wombwell to the Zoological

Society, and placed in their collection in the Regent's Park; but it had

been enfeebled by confinement and disease, and it died soon afterwards.

The Hudson's Bay Company subsequently supplied its place by presenting the

Society with a young cow.

Atkins offered the counter attractions of an elephant ten feet high, and

another litter of lion-tigers, the latter addition to his collection being

announced as follows:--

"Wonderful Phenomenon in Nature--The singular and hitherto deemed

impossible occurrence of a Lion and Tigress cohabiting and producing young

has again taken place in the Menagerie, on the 28th of October, 1828, at

Windsor, when the Royal Tigress brought forth three fine cubs!!! And they

are now to be seen in the same den with their sire and dam. The first

litter of these extraordinary animals were presented to Our Most Gracious

Sovereign, when he was pleased to express considerable gratification, and

to denominate them Lion-Tigers, than which a more appropriate name could

not have been given. The great interest the Lion and Tigress have excited

is unprecedented; they are a source of irresistible attraction, especially

as it is the only instance of the kind ever known of animals so directly

opposite in their dispositions forming an attachment of such a singular

nature; their beautiful and interesting progeny are most admirable

productions of Nature. The Group is truly pleasing and astonishing, and

must be witnessed to form an adequate idea of them. The remarkable

instance of subdued temper and association of animals to permit the Keeper

to enter their Den, and to introduce their performance to the Spectators,

is the greatest Phenomenon in Natural History."

Most of the shows enumerated in the list of 1828 attended Bartholomew Fair

in 1830, and there were a few additional ones, making the total number

about the same. They comprised the menageries of Wombwell, Atkins, and

Ballard, the first containing "the great Siam elephant, and the two

smallest elephants ever seen in Europe," and the last offering an unique

attraction in a seal, floundering in a large tub of water; Richardson's

theatre, Ball's tumbling and rope-dancing, Keyes and Laine's conjuring,

Frazer's conjuring, a learned pony, the pig-faced lady, a shaved bear (to

expose the imposture preceding), the "living skeleton," the fire-eater,

the Scotch giant, the diorama of Navarino, the fat boy and girl, and a

couple of peep-shows, one exhibiting, as its chief attraction, the lying

in state of George IV., the other the murder of Maria Martin.

One of the novel characters whom Richardson picked up in his wanderings

was the once famous Gouffe, "the man-monkey," as he was called. His real

name was Vale, and when the old showman became acquainted with him he was

following the humble occupation of a pot-boy in a low public-house.

Richardson, happening to enter the tap-room in which Master Vale waited,

found the young gentleman amusing the guests by walking about on pewter

pint measures, with his hobnailed boots turned towards the smoke-begrimed

ceiling. The performance was a novel one, and Richardson, calling the lad

aside on its conclusion, made him an offer too gratifying to be refused.

After travelling with Richardson for some time, Vale appeared at several

of the minor theatres of the metropolis, always in the part of an ape, and

under the assumed name of Gouffe. His pantomimic powers were considerable,

and his agility was scarcely inferior to that of the four-handed brutes

whom he represented.

The receipts of the shows were not always so large as in 1828. In 1831,

which seems to have been a bad year for them, Richardson lost fifty pounds

by Bartholomew Fair, though he had half the receipts of Ewing's wax-work

exhibition in addition to those of the theatre, under an agreement with

the proprietor, by which he paid for the ground and the erection of the

show. Wombwell only cleared his expenses, though he had at that time

acquired Morgan's menagerie, which stood at the corner of the Greyhound

Yard, and by that means secured the pennies as well as the sixpences.

In 1832, the charge for admission to Clarke's circus was reduced from

sixpence to threepence. There was a novelty in Bartholomew Fair that year

in the show of an Italian conjuror, named Capelli, namely, a company of

cats, that beat a drum, turned a spit, ground knives, played the organ,

hammered upon an anvil, ground coffee, and rang a bell. One of them

understood French as well as Italian, obeying orders in both languages.

Capelli's bills announce also a wonderful dog, to "play any gentleman at

dominoes that will play with him."

In 1833, the number of shows at this fair rose to thirty-two, Richardson's

theatre, Clarke's circus, five for tumbling, rope-dancing, etc., three

menageries, four wax-work exhibitions, three phantasmagorias, Holden's

glass-blowing, two learned pigs, six exhibitions of giants, dwarfs, etc.,

and six peep-shows, in which the coronation of William IV., the battle of

Navarino, the murder of Maria Martin, and other events of contemporary

interest were shown. Only two shows charged so much as sixpence for

admission, namely, Richardson's and Wombwell's. The threepenny shows were

Ewing's and Clarke's, the latter giving "an excellent display for the

money," according to a contemporary account, which continues as follows:--

"The performance began by tight-rope dancing by Miss Clarke, with and

without the balance pole, through hoops, with 'flip-flaps,' standing on

chairs, &c. Slack-rope vaulting by a little boy named Benjamin Saffery,

eight years of age; he exhibited several curious feats. There was also

some very extraordinary posturing by two young men, one dressed as a

Chinese, the other in the old costume of Pierrot; among many other

exploits, they walked round the ring with each a leg put up to their neck,

and another on each other's shoulders. They also performed an

extraordinary feat of lying on their backs, and throwing their legs up

under their arms, and going round the ring by springing forward upon the

ground, without the aid of their hands; one of them, while on the ground,

supported two men on his thighs. A black man also exhibited some feats of

strength; among others, he threw himself backward and, resting on his

hands, formed an arch, and then bore two heavy men on his stomach with

ease. The horsemanship commenced with the old performance of the rider

going round the ring tied up in a sack. During the going round a

transformation took place, and he who went into the sack a man came out to

all appearance a woman on throwing the sack off. The whole concluded with

a countryman who, suddenly starting from the ring, desires to be permitted

to ride, which is at first refused, but at length allowed; he mounts, and

after a short time, beginning to grow warm, pulls off his coat, then his

waistcoat, then another and another to the number of thirteen, at last

with much apparent modesty and reluctance his shirt; having done this, he

appears a splendid rider, and after a few evolutions, terminates the

performance. This rider's name was Price. The show was well attended."

The other shows of this class were Ball's, which, besides tumbling and

rope-dancing, gave a pantomime, but without scenery; Keyes and Laine's,

which now presented posturing, balancing, and rope-dancing; Samwell's, in

which, besides tumbling and dancing, a real Indian executed the war-dance

of his tribe; the Chinese jugglers; and a posturing and tumbling show, the

proprietor of which was too modest to announce his name. The Chinese

jugglers had performed during the summer at Saville House, the building

on the north side of Leicester Square, which, after being the locality of

several exhibitions, was converted into a music-hall, called the Imperial,

and afterwards Eldorado. One of these pig-tailed entertainers pretended to

swallow fifty needles, which were afterwards produced from his mouth, each

with a thread in its eye. Another balanced a bowl on a stick nine feet

long; while a third played the Chinese violin with a single string.

Wombwell's menagerie extended from the hospital gate nearly to Duke

Street, and was the largest show in the fair. Drury and Drake's was a

small but interesting collection, consisting of a very tame leopard, a

couple of hyenas, a good show of monkeys, and several very fine boa

constrictors. The third menagerie was Wombwell's smaller concern, formerly

Morgan's.

The best of the wax-work exhibitions was Ewing's, which was well arranged

in ten caravans. The others were Ferguson's, with the additional

attraction of "the beautiful albiness," a really beautiful woman, named

Shaw, who was then in her twenty-second year; Hoyo's; and a small and poor

collection at a house in Giltspur Street, where the wax figures were

supplemented by the exhibition of twin infants united at the breast,

"extremely well preserved."

Phantasmagorial exhibitions were at this time a novelty to the masses. The

best of those shown this year in Smithfield was the _Optikali Illusio_ of

a Frenchman, named De Berar, who startled the spectators with the

appearance of a human skeleton, the vision of Death on a pale horse, etc.

There was another in Long Lane; and a third at a house in Giltspur Street,

where the public were invited to witness "the raising of the devil!" A

fire-eater named Haines stood at the door of the last show, emitting a

shower of sparks from a lump of burning tow in his mouth. Sir David

Brewster, who witnessed a phantasmagorial exhibition at Edinburgh,

describes it as follows:--

"The small theatre of exhibition was lighted only by one hanging lamp, the

flame of which was drawn up into an opaque chimney or shade when the

performance began. In this 'darkness visible' the curtain rose, and

displayed a cave, with skeletons and other terrific figures in relief upon

its walls. The flickering light was then drawn up beneath its shroud, and

the spectators, in total darkness, found themselves in the midst of

thunder and lightning. A thin transparent screen had, unknown to the

spectators, been let down after the disappearance of the light, and upon

it the flashes of lightning, and all the subsequent appearances, were

represented. This screen, being halfway between the spectators and the

cave which was first shown, and being itself invisible, prevented the

observers from having any idea of the real distance of the figures, and

gave them the entire character of aerial pictures.

"The thunder and lightning were followed by the figures of ghosts,

skeletons, and known individuals, whose eyes and mouths were made to move

by the action of combined sliders. After the first figure had been

exhibited for a short time, it began to grow less and less, as if removed

to a great distance, and at last vanished in a small cloud of light. Out

of this same cloud the germ of another figure began to appear, and

gradually grew larger and larger, and approached the spectators, till it

attained its perfect development. In this manner the head of Dr. Franklin

was transformed into a skull; figures which retired with the freshness of

life came back in the form of skeletons, and the retiring skeletons

returned in the drapery of flesh and blood. The exhibition of these

transmutations was followed by spectres, skeletons, and terrific figures,

which, instead of receding and vanishing as before, suddenly advanced upon

the spectators, becoming larger as they approached them, and finally

vanished by appearing to sink into the ground. The effect of this part of

the exhibition was naturally the most impressive. The spectators were not

only surprised, but agitated, and many of them were of opinion that they

could have touched the figures."

Dupain's French theatre combined the exhibition of a dwarf, Jonathan

Dawson, three feet high, and fifty years of age, with posturing by a

performer named Finch, and two mechanical views, one representing Algiers,

with the sea in motion, and vessels entering and leaving the harbour; the

other a storm at sea, with a vessel in distress, burning blue lights,

firing guns, and finally becoming a wreck.

Broomsgrove's show, which made its first appearance, contained three human

curiosities, namely, Clancy, an Irishman, whose height was seven feet two

inches; Farnham, who was only three feet two inches in height, but so

strong that he carried two big men on his shoulders with ease; and Thomas

Pierce, "the gigantic Shropshire youth," aged seventeen years, five feet

ten inches in height, and thirty-five stones in weight.

Simmett's show contained four "living wonders" of this kind, namely,

Priscilla and Amelia Weston, twin Canadian giantesses, twenty years of

age; Lydia Walpole, the dwarf exhibited in Maughan's show in 1825; and an

albino woman, aged nineteen. Harris added to a peep-show a twelve years

old dwarf, named Eliza Webber; a sheep with singularly formed hind hoofs;

and a very fine boa constrictor. Another show combined the performances of

a monkey, which, in the garb of an old woman, smoked a pipe, wheeled a

barrow, etc., with the exhibition of several mechanical figures,

representing artisans working at their various trades, and a juvenile

albino, named Mary Anne Chapman. Another exhibited, as an "extraordinary

hermit," a man named Daniel Mackenzie, whose only distinction rested upon

his statement that he had voluntarily secluded himself from the world for

five years, which he had passed in a coal-mine near Dalkeith.

Toby, the learned pig, if he was the original porcine wonder of that name,

must have been, at least, seventeen years of age, but showed no symptoms

of declining vigour or diminished intelligence. He was now exhibited by

James Burchall, in conjunction with the proprietor's monstrously fat

child, and was announced as,--

"The Unrivalled Chinese Swinish Philosopher, Toby the Real Learned Pig. He

will spell, read, and cast accounts, tell the points of the sun's rising

and setting, discover the four grand divisions of the Earth, kneel at

command, perform blindfold with 20 handkerchiefs over his eyes, tell the

hour to a minute by the watch, tell a card, and the age of any party. He

is in colour the most beautiful of his race, in symmetry the most perfect,

in temper the most docile. And when asked a question, he will give an

Immediate Answer."

Toby had a rival this year in the "amazing pig of knowledge," exhibited by

James Fawkes, at the George Inn. This pig could tell the number of pence

in a shilling, and of shillings in a pound, count the spectators, tell

their thoughts (so at least it was pretended), distinguish colours, and do

many other wonderful things. The following doggrel verses, extracted from

Fawkes's bill, are offered as a curiosity; they seem _apropos_ of nothing,

and show that the exhibitor was ignorant or oblivious of the fact that

George IV. had been dead three years:--

"A learned Pig in George's reign

To Æsop's Brutes an equal Boast;

Then let Mankind again combine

To render Friendship still a Toast.

"Let Albion's Fair superior soar,

To Gallic Fraud, or Gallic Art;

Britons will e'er bow down before

The Virtues seated in the Heart."

In 1836, a new show appeared in the field, namely, Brown's Theatre of

Arts, in which were shown mechanical representations of the battle of

Trafalgar, the passage of the Alps by the French army, and the Marble

Palace at St. Petersburg, the ships in the first and the figures in the

others being in actual motion.

Scowton, who had been absent from Bartholomew Fair for several years, made

a final appearance there in 1837, when his bills contained the following

announcement:--

"Mr. SCOWTON, deeply impressed with heartfelt gratitude for the liberal

Patronage and Support which he has for a series of Years experienced from

his Friends and a Generous Public, and which will enable him to spend his

future Days in comfortable Retirement: begs leave to announce that the

whole of his Extensive Concern, is to be disposed of by Private Contract;

and, therefore, at the same time, as he takes leave, requests them to

believe that the Memory of their favours and indulgence will never be

eradicated from his Memory."

Richardson's theatre stood beside Scowton's, and it is remarked by a

newspaper of the time that "the former displayed the trappings of modern

grandeur, and the latter evinced his taste for the ancient by exposing to

view a couple of centaurs and a sphynx." Scowton presented a "new grand

dramatic romance," called _The Treacherous Friend_, in which he played

the character of Alphonsus himself.

This was the last appearance of both these veteran showmen. Scowton

retired, and Richardson died shortly afterwards at his cottage in

Horsemonger Lane, and was buried, as his will directed, at Great Marlow,

in the same grave with the spotted boy. He bequeathed the greater part of

his property to Charles Reed, who had travelled with him for many years;

his old friend, Johnson, afterwards co-lessee with Nelson Lee of the City

of London Theatre, received a legacy of five hundred pounds, and Davy, who

had superintended the building and removal of the theatre from the

beginning of its existence, two hundred pounds.

Looking backward forty years, I can recall the quaint figure of the old

showman as he stood on the steps of his portable theatre, clad in a loose

drab coat and a long scarlet vest, which looked as if it had been made in

the reign of George II. As I think of Croydon Fair as it used to be in

Richardson's days, with the show standing between Clarke's circus and

Wombwell's menagerie, I can almost fancy that I hear the booming of the

old man's gong. Many a time afterwards have I seen Nelson Lee beating that

memorable instrument of discord, and heard him shouting, "Walk up! walk

up! Just going to begin!" But _he_ wore a suit of black, and did not

impress me half so much as his predecessor. The change seemed, indeed, a

symptom of the declining glory of the fair, which has, within the last few

years, become a thing of the past.

The Old Showmen and the Old London Fairs · 第 10 / 11 章