The great May-fair was formerly held near Piccadilly. An antiquary,
(shudder not, good reader, at the chilling name--he was a kind soul,)
Mr. Carter, describes this place in an interesting communication, dated
the 6th of March, 1816, to his valued friend, the venerable “Sylvanus
Urban.” “Fifty years have passed away since this place of amusement was
at its height of attraction: the spot where the fair was held still
retains the name of May-fair, and exists in much the same state as at
the above period: for instance, Shepherd’s market, and houses
surrounding it on the north and east sides, with White Horse-street,
Shepherd’s-court, Sun-court, Market-court. Westwards an open space
extending to Tyburn (now Park) lane, since built upon, in Chapel-street,
Shepherd’s-street, Market-street, Hertford-street, &c. Southwards, the
noted Ducking-pond, house, and gardens, since built upon, in a large
Riding-school, Carrington-street, (the noted Kitty Fisher lived in this
street,) &c. The market-house consisted of two stories; first story, a
long and cross aisle, for butcher’s shops, externally, other shops
connected with culinary purposes; second story, used as a theatre at
fair-time, for dramatic performances. My recollection serves to raise
before me the representation of the ‘Revenge,’ in which the only object
left on remembrance is the ‘black man,’ Zanga. Below, the butchers gave
place to toy-men and gingerbread-bakers. At present, the upper story is
unfloored, the lower ditto nearly deserted by the butchers, and their
shops occupied by needy peddling dealers in small wares; in truth, a
most deplorable contrast to what once was such a point of allurement. In
the areas encompassing the market-building were booths for jugglers,
prize-fighters, both at cudgels and back-sword, boxing-matches, and wild
beasts. The sports not under cover were mountebanks, fire-eaters,
ass-racing, sausage-tables, dice-tables, up-and-downs, merry-go-rounds,
bull-baiting, grinning for a hat, running for a shift, hasty-pudding
eaters, eel-divers, and an infinite variety of other similar pastimes.
Among the extraordinary and wonderful delights of the happy spot, take
the following items, which still hold a place within my mind, though I
cannot affirm they all occurred at one precise season. The account may
be relied on, as I was born, and passed my youthful days in the
vicinity, in Piccadilly, (Carter’s Statuary,) two doors from the south
end of White Horse-street, since rebuilt (occupied at present by lady
Pulteney).--Before a large commodious house, with a good disposure of
walks, arbours, and alcoves, was an area, with an extensive bason of
water, otherwise ‘_Ducking-pond_,’ for the recreation of lovers of that
_polite_ and _humane_ sport. Persons who came with their dogs paid a
trifling fee for admission, and were considered the chief patrons and
supporters of the pond; others, who visited the place as mere
spectators, paid a double fee. A duck was put into the pond by the
master of the hunt; the several dogs were then let loose, to seize the
bird. For a long time they made the attempt in vain; for, when they came
near the devoted victim, she dived under water, and eluded their
remorseless fangs. Herein consisted the _extreme felicity_ of the
_interesting_ scene. At length, some dog more expert than the rest,
caught the feathered prize, and bore it away, amidst the loudest
acclamations, to its most fortunate and envied master. This diversion
was held in such high repute about the reign of Charles II., that he,
and many of his prime nobility, did not disdain to be present, and
partake, with their dogs, of the _elegant entertainment_. In Mrs. Behn’s
play of ‘Sir Patient Fancy,’ (written at the above period,) a sir
Credulous Easy talks about a cobbler, his dog-tutor, and his expectation
of soon becoming ‘the duke of Ducking-pond.’--A ‘_Mountebanks’ Stage_’
was erected opposite the Three Jolly Butchers’ public-house, (on the
east side of the market area, now the King’s Arms.) Here Woodward, the
inimitable comedian and harlequin, made his first appearance as
merry-andrew; from these humble boards he soon after found his way to
Covent-garden theatre.--Then there was ‘_Beheading of Puppets_.’ In a
coal-shed attached to a grocer’s shop, (then Mr. Frith’s, now Mr.
Frampton’s,) one of these mock executions was exposed to the attending
crowd. A shutter was fixed horizontally; on the edge of which, after
many previous ceremonies, a puppet laid its head, and another puppet
then instantly chopped it off with an axe. In a circular
staircase-window, at the north end of Sun-court, a similar performance
took place by another set of puppets. The condemned puppet bowed its
head to the cill which, as above, was soon decapitated. In these
representations, the late punishment of the Scotch chieftain (lord
Lovat) was alluded to, in order to gratify the feelings of southern
loyalty, at the expense of that farther north.--In a fore one-pair room,
on the west side of Sun-court, a Frenchman submitted to the curious the
astonishing strength of the ‘_Strong Woman_,’ his wife. A blacksmith’s
anvil being procured from White Horse-street, with three of the men,
they brought it up, and placed it on the floor. The woman was short, but
most beautifully and delicately formed, and of a most lovely
countenance. She first let down her hair, (a light auburn,) of a length
descending to her knees, which she twisted round the projecting part of
the anvil, and then, with seeming ease, lifted the ponderous weight some
inches from the floor. After this, a bed was laid in the middle of the
room; when, reclining on her back, and uncovering her bosom, the husband
ordered the smiths to place thereon the anvil, and forge upon it a
horse-shoe! This they obeyed; by taking from the fire a red-hot piece of
iron, and with their forging hammers completing the shoe, with the same
might and indifference as when in the shop at their constant labour. The
prostrate fair one appeared to endure this with the utmost composure,
talking and singing during the whole process; then, with an effort which
to the by-standers seemed like some supernatural trial, cast the anvil
from off her body, jumping up at the same moment with extreme gaiety,
and without the least discomposure of her dress or person. That no trick
or collusion could possibly be practised on the occasion was obvious,
from the following evidence:--The audience stood promiscuously about the
room, among whom were our family and friends; the smiths were utter
strangers to the Frenchman, but known to us; therefore the several
efforts of strength must have proceeded from the natural and surprising
power this foreign dame was possessed of. She next put her naked feet on
a red-hot salamander, without receiving the least injury: but this is a
feat familiar with us at this time. Here this kind of gratification to
the senses concluded.--Here, too, was ‘_Tiddy-doll_.’
[Illustration: ~Tiddy Diddy Doll--loll, loll, loll.~]
This celebrated vender of gingerbread, from his eccentricity of
character, and extensive dealings in his way, was always hailed as the
king of itinerant tradesmen.[127] In his person he was tall, well made,
and his features handsome. He affected to dress like a person of rank;
white gold laced suit of clothes, laced ruffled shirt, laced hat and
feather, white silk stockings, with the addition of a fine white apron.
Among his harangues to gain customers, take this as a specimen:--
‘Mary, Mary, where are you _now_, Mary? I live, when at home, at the
second house in Little Ball-street, two steps under ground, with a
wiscum, riscum, and a why-not. Walk in, ladies and gentlemen; my shop is
on the second-floor backwards, with a brass knocker at the door. Here is
your nice gingerbread, your spice gingerbread; it will melt in your
mouth like a red-hot brickbat, and rumble in your inside like Punch and
his wheelbarrow.’ He always finished his address by singing this fag end
of some popular ballad:--
[Music: Allegretto.
Ti-tid-dy, ti-ti, ti-tid-dy, ti-ti, ti-tid-dy, ti-ti,
tid-dy did-dy dol-lol, ti-tid-dy ti-tid-dy ti-ti,
tid-dy tid-dy, dol.]
Hence arose his nickname of ‘_Tiddy-doll_.’ In Hogarth’s print of the
execution of the ‘Idle ’Prentice,’ at Tyburn, _Tiddy-doll_ is seen
holding up a gingerbread cake with his left hand, his right being within
his coat, and addressing the mob in his usual way:--‘Mary, Mary,’ &c.
His costume agrees with the aforesaid description. For many years, (and
perhaps at present,) allusions were made to his name, as thus:--‘You are
so fine, (to a person dressed out of character,) you look like
Tiddy-doll. You are as tawdry as Tiddy-doll. You are quite Tiddy-doll,’
&c.--Soon after the late lord Coventry occupied the house, corner of
Engine-street, Piccadilly, (built by sir Henry Hunlocke, Bart., on the
site of a large ancient inn, called the Greyhound;) he being annoyed
with the unceasing uproar, night and day, during the fair, (the whole
month of May,) procured, I know not by what means, the entire abolition
of this festival of ‘misrule’ and disorder.”
The engraving here given is from an old print of _Tiddy-doll_; it is
presumed, that the readers of the _Every-Day Book_ will look at it with
interest.