Transcription
There is not that amount of tinsel, blue fire, banners, double bands, and spangles which sometimes characterise the “gorgeous spectacles;” but then this is not a “spectacle,” an hence the difference. Instead of this, there are a thousand and one exciting incidents, the action is rapid, the chain of events well kept up, and the scenes new and varying. The mere thread of the plot is not particularly intricate. It is clearly not a piece of Spanish construction, for instance; but it is none the worse for that.
The curtain rises upon a lovely spot in the country, disclosing a view of the state of Mr. Landworth, with footpath to Wrangleford. Two of three yokels are discussing lazily their own concerns, enlivened by the presence of a pretty dairymaid. In one corner a man is seen ploughing away most naturally, and the orchestra favours us with the good old air, “The curly headed ploughboy.” We are unable to surmise in what particular part of England this same Wrangleford is situated, for whilst the rustics emulate each other in their endeavours to convey some notions of their knowledge of country patois, they favour us with a specimen of the tongue of almost every country in England. One par example, gives us the unmistakable “Whar be yaw a-goin’, together?” of Norfolk and Suffolk; another take us west-ward-ho, and exclaims, “They all be gon a-oonting but oi;” and a third gives us the Lancashire so strong that we think of Tim Bobbin and the little bandy Hewitt. Thus set afloat upon the sea of conjecture, we come at length to the conclusion that we are somewhere in the heart of England, far remote from the metropolis, and in one of the most beautiful parts of the island.
Presently we are introduced to Mr. Landworth, the owner of the surrounding property. He is accompanied by his friends in sporting costume. A famous pack of fox-hounds are led on by the keeper. As the guests arrive the inspiriting strains of that glorious “Tantivy” are struck up by the band, the dogs begin to give tongue, the fox is unearthed, and the throw off is magnificent. We never saw a scene of this description better managed. The whole of the stage is laid out in a series of tangled paths. The ring also is brought into requisition, and numerous rasping fences are set up in all directions. The sport is of a most spirited description. Here they come helter skelter at terrific paces, Reynard first, then dogs, huntsmen, populace, the gentlemen in red coats, the ladies in red habits. These latter seem more daring even than their lieges, and, as they clear at a bound, and inconceivably rapid sucession, the fences in their way, raising at each leap their becoming caps, while their graceful drapery floats in the breeze who can help rewarding them with a hearty “bravo?” Certainly not our audience of Whit-Monday. Loud and hearty their shouts still ring in our ears. One especial batch of sailors in the pit we never shall forget. The “shivering of their timbers” was something perfectly marvellous!
But we must hasten with our story. Amongst the gentlemen present upon this occasion is one Montague Sportpony, who is simply a London sharper, a person who, as is observed, “knows very little about riding upon a horse, but is quite as fait at betting upon one.” This man’s object is to allure one young country Squire to the metropolis, and to fleece him of his wealth. Landworth yields to his persuasions, but not without being warned by Arabella Boldheart, his affianced, who at length, finding he is resolved to visit the mighty Babylon, determines to follow him in disguise. Landsworth’s servant, Guffin, is followed under similar circumstances by Giggle, the dairymaid.
Arrived in town Landworth becomes the prey of a nest of sharpers, and his misfortunes are at length consummated by the poisoning of his noble horse, Boldheart, upon which he had stalked his whole fortune. The poisoning was the dastardly act of Sportpony and his accomplices, who had betted heavily against him. But Landworth has another horse, Spanker, which he has backed to a still greater amount in a steeple chase which is to follow. Landworth has broken his arm, and cannot ride her. Here, however, Julia Wilton, cousin to Sportpony, a cold and honest girl, who is disgusted with the meanness and treachery of Sportpony, comes to the rescue, and rides the horse. A splendid and exciting scene ensues. Again circus and stage are called in aid. Julia rides with unparalleled daring. One by one she passes her competitors with lightning speed, and eventually wins by a good length. A few interesting revelations are hereabouts made as to the proceedings of Mr. Sportpony and his associates, and whilst they are handed over to the police, Landworth is reconciled to Arabella, Giggle consents to become Mrs. Griffin; Jemima Waggles, a lady’s maid, yields up her personal liberty to Phelim O’Scuddery, an Irish servant, who has helped to expose his master, Sportpony; and we are only left to regret that Julia, who has behaved so gallantly, and done so much and so well, is left without a husband.
We have already alluded to the fox chase. Other incidents and scenes equally striking were—the introduction of a four-in-hand upon the stage, driven by Mr. Cooke, the London cab rank, the daring leap of a horse in the dining room, the road to, and the race course, the miniature curricle and ponies driven by Miss Kate Cooke, the death of the race horse, and the popular and lively country dance of “Pop goes the weasel.”
Of the artistes we have to express our special commendation of Mrs. Stephens, as Julia; Mrs. Lee, as Arabella; Mrs. Anson, as Giggle; and Mrs. Dowton, as Jemima; Mr. Holloway, as Landworth (though occasionally he pumped too much); Mr. Anson, as Gruffin; and Mr. Murray, as Phelim. The same remark would apply to Mr. Stephens, who played Sportpony, were it not for his unfortunate mode of treating that most ill-used letter H. We beg to assure him, whilst “ex-asperates” that letter as he does, no matter how he dresses, or what he may pretend to be, he would never seduce Mr. Landworth, or any other English gentleman, however unsophisticated, to endure his presence for an hour.
But the new drama was, as it deserved to be, thoroughly successful, and a long and prosperous run is in store for it.
The Scenes in the Circle followed. To say that they were characterized by novelty would not be strictly accurate; but they were bold, interesting, and wonderful as ever.
