BURLESQUE OF FAËRIE.

As PlanchÉ was, in effect, the Father of Classical Burlesque, so was he also, even more irrefragably, the Father of the Burlesque of FaËrie—of the fairy tales of the nursery, and especially of those derived from French sources. Memorable, indeed, was the production of PlanchÉ's "Riquet with the Tuft[18]"; this piece was the precursor of something like twenty others from the same pen, all written on the same principle and in the same vein. PlanchÉ had been to Paris, and had there seen Potier playing in "Riquet À la Houppe." He came home and straightway wrote his own version of the story, partly in verse, partly in prose, having in Charles Mathews a Riquet not equal indeed to Potier, but with obvious merits of his own. Vestris was the Princess Emeralda, and James Bland Green Horn the Great—Rebecca Isaacs, then only a little girl, being the Mother Bunch. The result was complete success, carrying with it great encouragement to the dramatist to persevere in the new path on which he had entered.

These fairy pieces of PlanchÉ's were not burlesques quite in the sense in which his classical pieces were, but they belong, nevertheless, to the burlesque genre. Each treats lightly and humorously a story already in existence; each includes parodies of popular lyrics, as well as songs written to the airs of popular ditties; and the burlesque spirit animates the whole. Every now and then, the writer, rising superior to parody, produces a lyric which has a definite accent of its own. Here, for example, in "Riquet with the Tuft," is a song accorded to the grotesque and misshapen hero. It has genuine wit as well as genial philosophy:—

The origin of "Riquet with the Tuft" is to be found in Perrault's "Contes de ma MÈre l'Oye." PlanchÉ went to the same source for his "Puss in Boots: an original, comical, mews-ical fairy burletta" (Olympic, 1837), in which Charles Mathews was an incomparable Puss, with Bland as Pumpkin the Prodigious, Vestris as the Marquis of Carabas, and Brougham as a very Irish ogre. In this there was a good deal of prose dialogue, of which the following scene between Puss and the three maids-of-honour may be taken as a diverting specimen:—

Chatterina. You're in the army, I presume?

Puss. No, ma'am.

Chatt. Why, you wear moustaches.

Puss. Yes, ma'am, yes; but that's because—because I can't help it, you see. I belong to a club, and all the members are obliged to wear them.

Chatt. What club?

Puss. It's a sort of Catch Club.

Arietta. What, musical?

Puss. Very.

Ari. And where do you meet?

Puss. We meet alternately upon each other's roof.

Skipperella. Upon each other's roof?—that's quite a new step.

Puss. I beg pardon, did I say upon? I meant under.

Ari. You can sing, then?

Puss. I can squall a little, À la Cat-oni.

Ari. Who taught you?

Puss. Cat-alani.

Skip. And dance, too?

Puss. I remember the time when I would have run anywhere after a ball.

Skip. What is your favourite dance?

Puss. The Cat-alonian Cat-choucha.

Chat. Well, never mind about singing and dancing; suppose we fix upon some game to pass away the time, at which we can all play?

Ari. I'm content.

Skip. And I.

Puss. And I. What shall it be?

Chat. "Puss in the Corner."

Puss. No, no, I don't like that.

Chat. Choose one yourself, then.

Puss. My favourite game is "Cat's Cradle."

All. Oh no, we can't bear that!

Chat. Come, name another from your catalogue.

Puss (aside). Cat-alogue! They grow personal!

The subject of "Puss in Boots" was afterwards handled by H. J. Byron.[19] In this case we find the monarch of the piece called Noodlehead IX.; the Princesses are named Biddi, Coobiddi, and Chickabiddi; and there are two woodcutters called Gnarl and Knot. The puns in the dialogue on the word cat are even more numerous than in the older piece, and somewhat more varied. As thus:—

Again:—

Once more:—

In the course of the piece King Noodlehead sings a song in which some fun is made of the conventionalities of Italian opera:—

One of the prettiest and wittiest of PlanchÉ's adaptations from Perrault's store was "The Sleeping Beauty in the Wood," seen at Covent Garden in 1840. The Beauty was the Princess Is-a-Belle—of course, Mme. Vestris; the inevitable King—Thomas Noddy of No-Land—was the inevitable Bland; James Vining was Prince Perfect; and Brougham was a woodcutter—one Larry O'Log. But the most whimsical character in the piece was played by Harley—the Baron Factotum, "Great-Grand-Lord-Everything," who may be compared with Pooh-Bah in Mr. Gilbert's "Mikado." In "The Mikado," Ko-Ko is "Lord High Executioner of Titipu," and Pooh-Bah is "Lord High Everything Else"—he is "First Lord of the Treasury, Lord Chief Justice, Commander-in-Chief, Lord High Admiral, Master of the Buckhounds, Groom of the Backstairs, Archbishop of Titipu, and Lord Mayor, both acting and elect, all rolled into one." The Baron Factotum is even more embarrassed with offices and duties. As he says at one juncture:—

He then sings, to the tune of "Where the bee sucks":—

The programme of the "The Sleeping Beauty" bore the following notice:—

In strict accordance with the Modern School of Melodramatic Composition, Eighteen years are to be supposed to have elapsed between the First and Second Parts; One Hundred years between the Second and Third Parts; and considerably more than One Hundred after the piece is over.

PlanchÉ went again to Perrault—directly or indirectly— for his "Blue Beard" (1839) and his "Discreet Princess" (1855). The last named (from "L'Adroite Princesse") was notable as including in its cast Robson as Prince Richcraft, and Emery as Gander the Stupendous. In "Blue Beard" Bland played the Baron Abomelique (the hero), Mme. Vestris the heroine (Fleurette), and John Brougham, the actor-dramatist, an Irish character—the O'Shac O'Back. How often has this fascinating subject been dealt with since! Dozens of pantomimes have had it for a basis; the burlesques founded on it are not quite so numerous. The best known are those by H. J. Byron (1860) and Mr. Burnand (1883); there are also two others by H. T. Arden and Frank Green.

But it was to the "Contes des FÉes" of Madame D'Aulnoy that PlanchÉ was most largely indebted for his fairy stories. The list (extending from 1842 to 1854) is quite an imposing one. First came "Fortunio, and his Seven Gifted Servants," based on "Belle-Belle, ou le Chevalier FortunÉ." Next, "The Invisible Prince, or the Island of Tranquil Delights," taken from "Le Prince Lutin." "Le Rameau d'Or" suggested "The Golden Branch," and "The King of Peacocks"[20] had its origin in "La Princesse Rosette." From "Le Serpentin Vert" was derived "The Island of Jewels"; from "L'Oiseau Bleu," "King Charming, or the Blue Bird of Paradise"; from "La Grenouille Bienfaisante," "The Queen of the Frogs"; from "La Biche au Bois,"[21] "The Prince of Happy Land, or the Fawn in the Forest"; from "La Princesse Carpillon," "Once upon a Time there were Two Kings"; and from "Le Nain Jeune," "The Yellow Dwarf and the King of the Gold Mines." "Beauty and the Beast" was taken from a tale by Mme. le Prince de Beaumont; but PlanchÉ claimed that the treatment was wholly new. He had Vestris for his Beauty, Harrison the tenor for his Beast, and Bland for his Sir Aldgate Pump, the father of Beauty. "The Good Woman in the Wood" was from a story by Mme. de la Force; and "Young and Handsome" from a faËrie by the Countess de Murat. "Graciosa and Percinet" likewise had a French origin.

It was, however, in each case only for the fable that PlanchÉ had to give thanks: everything else—even in most instances the nomenclature—was his own. And that nomenclature was often very ingenious and amusing. Thus, in "Fortunio," we have an impecunious noble called Baron Dunover (played by Morris Barnett). In "The Invisible Prince" the name of the Queen of Allaquiz is Blouzabella; her son is the Infante Furibond;[22] and among her courtiers are the Marquis of Anysidos, Count Palava Torquemova (who introduces the ambassadors), and Don Moustachez de Haro y Barbos (Captain of the Guard). In the same piece, the Princess of the Island of Tranquil Delights is called Xquisitelittlepet, and her ladies in waiting are Toxaloto-tittletattle and Itsaprettipetticoat. Soyez Tranquille (with a clever suggestion of Soyer) is the chef de cuisine in "The King of the Peacocks," in which there is also an Irishman, The O'Don't Know Who, and a German, the Baroness Von Huggermugger. PlanchÉ's kings and queens have mostly comic names. There is Giltgingerbread the Great, with Tinsellina, his consort, in "The Island of Jewels." There is Henpeckt the Hundredth in "King Charming"; there is Fulminoso the Pugnacious in "The Queen of the Frogs"; there is Periwigulus the Proud in "Once upon a Time there were Two Kings." Henpeckt, again, has a valet called Natty, and a porter called Nobby. Elsewhere we come across an usher named Antirumo, an Indian named Tan-tee-vee (of the tribe of Tal-hee-ho), and an evil genius named Abaddun. The Yellow Dwarf is christened, very appropriately, Gambogie.[23]

"The Yellow Dwarf," it may here be chronicled, is the title of a burlesque by Gilbert Abbott a'Beckett and by Mr. Robert Reece; A'Beckett's being produced in 1842, PlanchÉ's in 1854, and Mr. Reece's in 1882. "Beauty and the Beast" has been made the subject of travestie by Mr. Burnand. The "Fortunio" of PlanchÉ was also rivalled in the "Lady Belle Belle, or Fortunio and his Seven Magic Men" of H. J. Byron (Adelphi, 1863).[24] This last was in a thoroughly H. J. Byronic vein, with a Count Collywobbol among its characters and the usual supply of puns and parodies. Here are a few of the best of the puns. The Princess Volante is a very Atalanta in her fondness for race running:—

"The White Cat," by PlanchÉ (1842), has among its personÆ Wunsuponatyme, King of Neverminditsnamia; Prince Paragon; and Jingo, a Court fool. In "The Fair One with the Golden Locks" (1843), the King is called Lachrymoso,[25] and the woman of the bedchamber Molly-mopsa. Finally, there is "The Seven Champions of Christendom" (1849), in which Charles Mathews played Charles Wag, Esq., "in attendance on" St. George of England. With this ends the list of PlanchÉ's compositions of this kind—a remarkable contribution to the stage literature of wit and humour.

From PlanchÉ's "Seven Champions of Christendom" to the "St. George and the Dragon" of Gilbert Abbott a'Beckett (1845) and the "Sir George and a Dragon, or We are Seven" of Mr. Burnand (1856) is a natural and easy transition. In A'Beckett's piece, Kalyba, the sorceress, has stolen St. George when a child, in order that he might fall in love with her, and so rescue her from prophesied destruction. Getting rid of her with a wave of her own wand, he turns up with his fellow Champions at Memphis, where King Ptolemy is in a state of impecuniosity, the Dragon having swallowed up all his resources. The monster demands the King's daughter Sabra, but St. George contrives to trick him out of the legal securities he holds, and eventually destroys him by the power of the steam press. There is a vein of allegory running through the piece, which has, however, its share of jeux de mots. Thus, Kalyba's handmaid says to her:—

Elsewhere there is some sarcasm at the expense of the newspapers. St. George says to Sabra:—

In Mr. Burnand's version, which is the longer of the two, there is much more story, and there are many more puns. St. George has not so prominent a place in the action, which is more elaborate and varied; while the dialogue is in the writer's most rollicking mood. Take, for example, these, lines of Kalyba's, addressed to her sirens:—

1st Siren. Madame, there is a four-oared boat in view without a steerer.

Kalyba (using pince-nez). P'raps the Harvard crew.
No, they don't row half hard enough for that;
Take care! they'll go ashore upon the flat.
They don't row well, but with uncommon pluck;
The stroke wants art—p'raps he's a stroke of luck.
I wonder where they come from! maybe Dover!
A crab! as sure as eggs is eggs they're ova!
Attract them here; you must not let them pass;
Some visitors—give me my looking-glass (they offer telescope).
Not that (they give her a hand-mirror).
Now sing, as Sirens did before us;
We lure all here with tooral looral chorus.
To practise bathing arts we've our diploma.
(All have by this time produced the hand-mirrors and combs.)
To attitudes! (All pose themselves combing hair, etc.)
We're in a state of comber.

Here, again, is a specimen of daring pun-making:—

A popular subject with the writers of burlesque for Christmastide has been the time-honoured one of Cinderella. The first travestie of any importance was by Albert Smith and Kenny, seen at the Lyceum so long ago as 1845. Next came H. J. Byron's version at the Strand in 1860, followed by Mr. Green's in 1871, Mr. Wilton Jones's (at Leicester) in 1878, and Mr. Reece's (at the Gaiety) in 1883. A provincial burlesque on this topic was called "Done-to-a-Cinderella," and in America there has been a "Cinder-Ellen." Mr. Reece's piece was called, simply, "Our Cinderella"; Mr. Jones's, "Little Cinderella." Byron's was christened "Cinderella, or the Lover, the Lackey, and the Little Glass Slipper." It has been a great favourite with the public ever since it was first played with Maria Simpson as Cinderella, Miss Oliver as the Prince (Popetti), Miss Charlotte Saunders as his valet Dandino, John Clarke as the Baron Balderdash, and Rogers and Miss Lavine as Clorinda and Thisbe. Over and over again has this clever piece of work served as the basis of pantomime "openings" both in town and country.

Following the traditional story closely enough, it bristles with the puns in which Byron revelled, and which he poured forth with singular and somewhat exhausting lavishness. Thus, we find Dandino saying:—

A little farther on Dandino and the Prince, who are about to exchange characters for the nonce, have the following little contest in pun-making:—

An even better instance of Byron's tendency to run a pun to death is to be found in this colloquy between the Prince and Cinderella. The latter says:—

More acceptible in, pantomime than in travestie, "Little Red Riding Hood" has nevertheless been the heroine of at least one burlesque which has made its mark—namely, that which Leicester Buckingham brought out at the Lyceum just thirty years ago, under the auspices of Edmund Falconer. He had Miss Lydia Thompson for his Blondinette (Red Riding Hood), and Miss Cicely Nott for the young lady's lover, Colin. The fairy element was freely introduced, and instead of the wolf of the original there was a Baron Reginald de Wolf ("the would-be abductor of Blondinette, who finds he is sold when she 'ab duck'd herself to escape him"). Here and there one gets in the "book" a glimpse of parody; as in—

Or, again, in—

Passing over "Jack the Giant Killer," which H. J. Byron made the subject of a burlesque, and "Jack and the Beanstalk," which was treated in the same vein by the late Charles Millward, we come to the travesties suggested by stories in the "Arabian Nights' Entertainments." These are fairly numerous. We may note, in particular, some of the versions of the tales of Aladdin, Ali Baba, Prince Camaralzaman, and Abon Hassan, which seem to have offered most attractions to our comic writers.

The first "Aladdin" of importance was that given to the world by Gilbert Abbott a'Beckett in 1844. This was entitled "The Wonderful Lamp in a New Light," and had Wright for its Aladdin and Paul Bedford for its Magician. Next in order of time comes H. J. Byron's "Aladdin, or the Wonderful Scamp,"[26] which has shared the fate of his "Cinderella" as a basis for pantomimes. In this his fondness for jeux de mots is as patent as ever, as well as the ease (without conspicuous finish) with which he fitted words to the songs of the day. Of direct parody there is little in this "Aladdin," which, however, opens with a brief suggestion of "The sea, the sea," sung by the Vizier:—

During the last twenty years there have been four other notable burlesques on the "Aladdin" subject—Mr. Alfred Thompson's (1870), Mr. Green's (1874), Mr. Reece's (1881), and Mr. Geoffrey Thorn's (1890). With Mr. Reece's are associated pleasant memories of the bright "street boy" of Miss Farren, Mr. Edward Terry's whimsical magician, and the grace and refinement of Miss Kate Vaughan's Badroulbadour.

Second only to "Aladdin" in acceptability both to authors and to public, is the story of "Ali Baba, or the Forty Thieves." Here, again, A'Beckett is (with Mark Lemon) to the fore with the travestie called "Open Sesame, or a Night with the Forty Thieves." This was produced at the Lyceum Theatre, and had Mr. Frank Matthews for its Ali Baba, Mrs. Alfred Wigan for its Ganem, Wigan himself for its O'Mustapha (he was an Irish Mussulman), the beautiful Miss Fairbrother for its Abdallah, Keeley for its Hassarac, Miss Georgina Hodson for its Cogia, and Mrs. Keeley for its Morgiana. There was a cast for you! How many burlesque casts of our own time could lay claim to so much talent and beauty? Cassim, in this piece, had to make one admirable pun:—

Elsewhere, O'Mustapha, who was a shoemaker, had to say:—

A'Beckett, however, did not lay himself out for punning in and out of season. His chief merit is the neatness of his style and the pervading nature of his wit.

The most famous of all the Ali Baba travesties was that "joint-stock" burlesque, "The Forty Thieves," written by members of the Savage Club, and performed by the authors themselves at the Lyceum, in 1860, for the benefit of the families of two literary men just then deceased. PlanchÉ wrote the prologue for this piece, and it was at once so brilliant and so admirably delivered by Leicester Buckingham that it nearly obtained the extraordinary honour of an encore. It was followed, three years later, by H. J. Byron's "Ali Baba, or the Thirty-Nine Thieves (in accordance with the author's habit of taking one off!)."[27] Abdallah, the captain of the thieves (played by Miss Ada Swanborough), was here depicted as a rascal of the quiet, elegant order, in sharp contrast to the Surrey-side villainy of his lieutenant, Hassarac. A colloquy between these gave Byron an opportunity of satirising the melodramatic criminal of the "good old times":—

In 1872 Mr. Reece wrote for the Gaiety a piece called "Ali Baba À la Mode"; in 1880 he prepared for the same theatre another version called "The Forty Thieves."[28] This latter, if I remember rightly, was the first of the burlesques in three acts. It presented in Mr. Terry (Ali Baba), Miss Farren (Ganem), Mr. Royce (Hassarac), and Miss Vaughan (Morgiana), a quartett which is specially well remembered for the verve and vivacity of its performance.

The fortunes of Prince Camaralzaman have been pictured on the burlesque stage by the Brothers Brough, by Messrs. Bellingham and Best, by H. J. Byron, and by Mr. Burnand.[29] "Camaralzaman and Badoura, or the Peri who loved the Prince," was the Broughs' title, and they had the assistance of Mrs. Keeley, of Keeley (as a Djinn), of Bland (as the Emperor Bung), of Miss Reynolds (as Badoura), and of Miss Horton (as the hero). Dimpl Tshin was the name given to one of the characters, and Skilopht that of another. The original story was followed in the main. Camaralzaman declines to marry at his father's request, and is incarcerated. In that position he soliloquises:—

Camaralzaman then breaks out into the following little bit of vocal parody:—

The Broughs were always ingenious in their word-plays. Says one of the characters in this burlesque:—

Again:—

Says Badoura to a suitor whom she does not favour:—

to which he replies:—

In the piece by Messrs. Bellingham and Best—"Prince Camaralzaman, or the Fairies' Revenge"[30]—we find, amid many well-conceived and well-executed puns, a rather successful adaptation of the "To be, or not to be" soliloquy, possessing the merit of being quite in keeping with the character of the matrimony-scorning Camaralzaman:—

In another passage, the "spiritualistic" craze is satirised in a so-called "chant":—

Two of the burlesques on "Arabian Nights" topics are from the pen of Francis Talfourd. First came—in 1852, at the Olympic—"Ganem, the Slave of Love" (with Miss Fanny Maskell as Fetnah, the caliph's favourite); and later—in 1854, at the St. James's—"Abon Hassan, or the Hunt after Happiness" (with Mr. Toole as Haroun-al-Raschid). In the former piece the wealth of felicitous punning is remarkable. Thus, in his very, first speech, Ganem, coming in intoxicated, says:—

In other places we read:—

(which is as true as it is witty);

"Abon Hassan" is less freely endowed with verbal pleasantry, but it has its fair share of puns, and the songs are numerous and bright. At the close, the hero, addressing the audience, allows himself to drop into the reflective mood:—

On German faËrie our comic dramatists have not drawn at all largely. Such pieces as Gilbert Abbott a'Beckett's "Knight and the Sprite, or the Cold-Water Cure," with Ondine as its heroine; H. J. Byron's "Nymph of the Lurleyburg, or the Knight and the Naiads," based on the Lurline legend; and Mr. Burnand's "Rumpelstiltskin, or the Woman at the Wheel," founded on one of the Brothers Grimm's narratives, are exceptional incursions in this field. The first was seen at the Strand in 1884, with Mrs. Walter Lacy as Sir Hildebrand, and with Hall and Romer in other parts. "The Nymph of the Lurleyburg" has often done duty for the purposes of Christmas extravaganza. When it was first performed—in 1859—Miss Woolgar was the Sir Rupert the Reckless, Mr. Toole the Seneschal, and Paul Bedford the Baron Witz, the locale being the Adelphi. Mr. Burnand introduced into "Rumpelstiltskin" (Royalty, 1864) a few modifications of the German tale, inventing and importing new characters. In one of the scenes he furnished a diverting suggestion of the situation in "The Ticket of Leave Man," when there comes the sudden and effective revelation of "Hawkshaw the Detective!" Among the personÆ are King Tagarag the Tremendous, Prince Poppet, Baron Higgle-de-Piggle, Wriggleletto (the court spy), Jolinosio (a miller), and Fraulein Splitaharter (the belle of the village). Miss Ada Cavendish was the Princess Superba.

"The Vampire"—a burlesque by Mr. Reece, which was played at the Strand in 1872—appears to have owed its origin about equally to the German legend, the romance which Lord Byron wrote on the subject, and the play which Dion Boucicault founded on the topic in 1852. As, however, the legend was the inspiration alike of romance, play, and travestie, the travestie may be mentioned here. Mr. Reece had drawn the Vampire as a being so fond of "blood," that he sought to possess it in the shape of the notebooks of two "sensation"-novelists, one of whom, Lady Audley Moonstone, was admirably represented by Mrs. Raymond.[32] The following specimen of the dialogue has been handed down to us. Some one says to a Welsh corporal:—

In the realm of Spanish legend there have been still fewer explorers. Albert Smith took one of Washington Irving's tales of the Alhambra, and fashioned it into "The Alhambra, or The Beautiful Princess," played at the Princess's in 1851, with the Keeleys, Wigan, Harley, Flexmore, and Miss Vivash. H. J. Byron afterwards went to the same source for "The Pilgrim of Love," in the first cast of which—at the Haymarket in 1860—we find the names of Mrs. Buckingham White as the Pilgrim, Chippendale as his tutor, Compton as the King of Toledo, Rogers as the King of Granada, and C. Coghlan as Mafoi, a Frenchman: a rather notable collocation of distinguished players.

The Fables of Æsop have inspired at least one travestie—"Leo the Terrible," by Stirling Coyne and Francis Talfourd. In this piece (brought out at the Haymarket in 1852) all the characters but four wore the heads of beasts or birds—a lion (Bland), a wolf (Buckstone), a fox, an owl, a ram, a poodle, a cat (Miss Maskell), and so on. The four exceptions were Sir Norval de Battersea, Timoleon Sindbad Potts (Keeley), Æsop, and Gay; and the play opened with a rencontre between the two last-named worthies. Æsop began with a vocal parody on "The Light of other Days":—

In the end, the various animals express repentance for the wrong they have committed; and Æsop, in recognition thereof, restores them to the shapes they formerly presented.

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