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CHAPTER XI
BOXING-NIGHT.
THERE is a day in December upon which,
although it takes place during Christmas-time, class is set against class more than on any
other day in the year. The poor rejoice in it, but
the rich grumble exceedingly; the kitchen is uproarious with merriment, but the drawing-room
floor, and especially "the study,£ where Paterfamilias sits, are shrouded
in gloom.
"Please, sir, the postman," exclaims our
parlour-maid, in cherry-coloured ribbons, and with cherry
cheeks, for the postman has probably kissed her;
"and please, sir, the dustman" (who, let us hope,
has not ventured upon such a liberty); "and please,
sir, the grocer's young man has called for himself
and his pardner."
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"Then I am not his pardoner," returns Paterfamilias, stung into repartee.-
"And where is the
money to come from, my dear,* [* The expression "My dear" is, of course, addressed not
to the parlour-maid, but to Materfamilias, who has looked
in to see how "papa" takes it.] I should like to
know, for all these Christmas boxes? I wish
there was no such thing as Boxing-day in the
calendar."
He might just as well wish that there was no
such periodical as Lady-day. It is the great red-
letter day of the year to all the lower classes of
London, from linen-drapers' assistants down to
costermongers, and is becoming, so to speak, redder
annually. It is made more of a festival, "allowed"
by the great employers of London labour more and
more, and may fairly be considered the great
metropolitan holiday. Christmas-day, which would
otherwise enjoy that pre-eminence, has a smack of
Sunday about it; and the Derby-day is only a
holiday under the rose. Under these circumstances,
it has become absolutely necessary that Boxing-[-79-]day should be
fitly chronicled; and when we
say "fitly," it will be understood that we mean
chronicled by our Home Correspondent. The only
obstacle to this arrangement was, that since the
feast in question is chiefly remarkable for its
evening amusements, our H. C. had to break
through his well-known domestic habits, and go
out at night. However, the nature of the enterprise being explained to him, he undertook it at
once, and cheerfully; and, indeed, it is our opinion,
that his noble nature is so constituted that he
would tread the Path of Duty, even though it led
through a Garrotte-walk. Here follows the result
of his experience:
If you would see Boxing-night in its true colours - which are bright even to
gaudiness - you must
patronise a transpontine pantomime, and not the
Halls of Dazzling Delight at "the Lane" or "the
Garden." "The gallery" at the two great national
theatres is composed of materials too aristocratic
for our purpose; the tariff of admission thereto
being prohibitive even to exclusion. Such persons [-80-]
would occupy the stalls in the places of amusement
of "the people," and in full evening costume; or,
in other words, they would keep their coats on.
As soon, therefore, as the H. C. had received his
instructions, he took a Hansom from his Belgravian
residence to the Theatre-royal, Putt Street, and
bespoke the stage-box for the 26th of December.
Not, be it understood, from any feeling of pride;
but firstly, because he suspected (very justly, as it
turned out) that he would be a little too crowded
elsewhere to make his philosophic observations;
and secondly, because his expenses are defrayed by
his proprietors. The price of the privilege thus
demanded was 10s. 6d.; and the H. C. tendered a
five-pound note in payment thereof. Now, the man
inside the little light-house with the pigeon-hole
(through which to receive the prices of admission),
had been a good deal staggered by my wanting the
stage-box at all; and when he beheld the note, I
saw the idea strike him like lightning, that the
whole proceeding was an ingenious swindle, and
an attempt to pass "flash" paper.
[-81-] "It won't do, my friend," said he, with a grim
smile; and then, perceiving my look of virtuous
indignation, he added dryly: "We haven't got so
much money in the treasury."
"Here is five shillings," observed I, calmly,
"which you may retain by way of deposit; only
be sure that the box is kept for me."
At the word "deposit," the man's countenance
changed from suspicion to benignity. He explained,
with great civility, that he was not himself empowered to receive so vast a sum, but that there
was an individual within who would take it upon his own responsibility, and give me a written
acknowledgement. This document, which cost me
a shilling to the man who wrote it, cost me another
to the cabman, on account of the period consumed
in its due and proper execution; and my belief is,
that the person of responsibility could not write his
name, and that the manager had to be sent for
from some suburban residence for that purpose.
The pantomime in Putt Street, instead of being
the last piece to be represented, as is usual, pre-[-82-]ceded the rest of the performances; for a Boxing-night audience in that locality is not remarkable
for patience, but must behold their favourite spectacle at once. The hour of commencement being
seven, this Home Correspondent (whose sense of
duty is equal to that of the conscientious actor
who, in order to perform Othello, blacked himself
all over) arrived in the neighbourhood a little after
six; and I write "in the neighbourhood" by design, since Putt Street was by that time quite
blocked up by a fanatical public, who had been
already assured three times that the Theatre-Royal
was full to suffocation. To a person of my delicate
frame and spiritual organisation, any attempt to
force a passage would have been futile; nor is it
probable that my powers of persuasion, however
fascinating, would have induced the multitude
to make way for me; I might just as well have
expected them to recognise my genius by strewing
chaplets of roses; but I had taken the precaution
to bring a friend with me broad in the shoulders,
and who has a very winning way with him - which [-83-] some persons
might almost stigmatise as forwardness - in a crowded thoroughfare. Towed in his
wake - but by no means a jolly-boat, for I was almost stove in by elbows - I managed to reach the
centre of the throng, and perceive distinctly the
words, "No standing-room," stuck up in front of
the theatre.
As this piece of information did not produce
the slightest effect upon those around me, I
endeavoured to ignore it also, and to pass the
time in taking mental notes of my neighbours.
They were doubtless a rough set, and those of them
who chanced to be brought before the sitting
magistrate upon the following day were probably
described as. "ruffians" by the reporters ; but they
possessed a good-nature under trying circumstances
which cannot be too highly eulogised. If an oath
was heard here and there, it was rapped out from
evil habit, without malice, just as a horse with
corn in him kicks in play; and although there
were one or two wicked savages, who made
"rushes" from time to time, such as sometimes [-84-]
fatal to the weakly in throngs of that sort, there
was a general disposition to protect the women and
children, and make the crush as bearable for them
as possible. It was no place, one would have
thought, for the weaker sex to be in at all, but
they were there in hundreds, and a young mother
close to me-reduced as by hydraulic pressure to
her least proportions-was feeding her baby. The
child, though rather flat, did not seem to suffer any inconvenience; but the crinoline of its parent had
snapped in forty places, and had lost all power to
rasp people. Immediately behind me was a little
man, "a tailor by trade," as I imagine, who had
ventured out under the protection of his wife.
"Come," said she, "this is getting too much of a
crush for you, Jerry; let us he off."
"Pooh, pooh," replied he, sidling away, though,
as he spoke - for he was a foot and a half shorter
than anybody else, and stood in darkness, and an
atmosphere of indescribable density -" I can bear
what any woman can, I suppose."
I never shall forget the tone of contemptuous [-85-]
pity with which his better and bigger half responded "Lor, Jerry!"
This lady appeared so wise and prudent, that I
inquired of her whether there was no other way
but this impassable one into the Theatre-Royal,
and she informed me that there was a stage-door
at the back of the House; "and likewise," added
she, "a gallery; but that won't do for such as you."
The aristocratic character of the H. C., although
he had a billy-cock hat on, being apparent to this
far-sighted female.
In the back street, the crowd was not so great,
because the doors there had been advertised to
close at 6.30, and had done so, as far as it was
practicable. But the stage-door had been driven
off its hinges, and was only restored broadways; so
that the pantomime itself, in its highest features -
the flying fairies and so forth - could be distinctly
seen over the top of it, and afforded unspeakable
satisfaction to hundreds at a very cheap rate. In
the aperture, however, stood a stout dramatic character - a demon, as I think -
obscuring as much of [-86-]
the gorgeous vision as possible, and flicking with
the lash of a hunting-whip as many persons as he
could reach with that formidable weapon. "This
ain't the right door, I tell you," was his continued
cry. "You must go round into Putt Street. I
should be ashamed, 1 should, of seeing a pantomime for nothin'. Here's a mean lot! [This was
addressed to the H. C. and his indignant companion.] What! you can't afford
fourpence, can't
you, for a seat in the gallery?" And for once his
audience sympathised with this hateful personage,
and exclaimed as with a single voice: "No, they
haven't got a tanner between them ."
Never, surely, were two gentlemen, about to
occupy the stage-box of a Theatre-Royal, placed in
so false a position.
Again proceeding to the front entrance, we found
a policeman explaining to his hereditary enemies,
the British public, that they had much better seek a pantomime elsewhere, since here, in Putt Street,
it was not to be seen, even though they should
stand upon one another's shoulders. The advice [-87-]
was of course unheeded by those to whom it was
addressed; but I seized the opportunity to explain
our position, as persons who had a right to admittance - Peris against whom the crystal bar
of Eden had been most unreasonably put up -
and the servant of Justice immediately admitted
us, amidst howls of disapprobation. The fairy
scene was shut from our gaze at first by tiers
of people standing up between us and the dress-circle; and when we had pushed our way to our
private box, we found it in possession of no less
than seven gentlemen and ladies. It was advertised to "accommodate" but four people, so that
these individuals were all sitting upon one another's
laps, in such an interminglement of limb that it
took another policeman to disentangle them. The
box-keeper, with his indignant "Well, I never!"
was totally unable to separate the human coil, who
exclaimed, like a hydra, with one voice, that they
had each paid two shillings for the accommodation,
and did not think it cheap at time money - in which
I very cordially agreed with them. It went to my [-88-]
heart to disturb them, for they were enthralled
with the action of the pantomime, as indeed was
every occupant of the house. Sloping up from
orchestra to ceiling was a vast bank of human
faces, as close together as in those crowded photographs where we have "fifteen hundred likenesses
for a penny," all eager, craving, hushed. At the
back of these, and out of sight, an incessant tumult
was kept up by the excluded persons - lately
increased by seven - but all whom we could see
were dumb. The stalls (for there were stalls) were
fortunately not furnished with arms; otherwise,
since two persons invariably occupied the place of
one, they would have been inconveniently tight.
These were patronised either by married folks, or
by young persons whose engagement was sufficiently acknowledged in society to admit of their
being tender to one another. The protecting arm
(in a shirt-sleeve) of the swain, was thrown around
his beloved object; and she, on her part, leaned
her head upon his manly bosom. The position
was demonstrative, but unavoidable; they had [-89-]
nowhere else to put their arms and heads. These
persons, like the occupants of the boxes, paid two
shillings each for their very limited room; the
denizens of the pit paid eightpence, and those of
the gallery, as we have already stated, a fourpenny
bit.
Great, however, as the expenditure of the audience must have been, when we consider their
position in life, they had still plenty of money left
wherewith to purchase refreshments. The drop-
curtain, which was let down oftener than usual for
this very purpose, gave the nobility and gentry to
understand that "Refreshments could be procured
within the establishment, and without leaving their
seats, as good as at any house in the neighbourhood." It also informed them where "Excellent
vans could be procured suitable for parties of
pleasure; and also a one-horse hearse." It was, in
fact, a complete advertisement-sheet of tradespeople of the locality. Besides these, there was
that metropolitan celebrity, Grifflths, with his
"Fire, Thieves, Fire!" I wished him elsewhere [-90-]
as I sat in that crowded place, and read his words.
They suggested to me the awful thought - Suppose there should be a fire! Suppose any one of
these tinsel ornaments - not to mention the poor
ballet-girls in spangled muslin - should catch fire
from the footlights, or the myriad gas-burners, or
the red lights at the wings, what a holocaust of
victims would there be! Nay, even, should a
spectator repeat aloud the words before him,
"Fire, Fire!" what a hideous scene of selfishness
and destruction would ensue! A roar of laughter
roused me from these reflections. Gammer
Gurton's cow had fallen upon the stage, through
some want of concert between its inmates, and the
four human legs were kicking one another in the
most furious manner. The Dame and some "supers" assisted to raise the animal; but as soon
as it reached the side-scenes, we beheld from our
coign of vantage the two performers wriggle forth
from their spotted prison, and go to fisticuffs over
the empty cow. Circumstances of this sort were
of course uproariously applauded; but all the [-91-]
political or social "hits," by no means subtle or
obscure ones either, which occurred in the course
of the pantomime, were received in solemn silence.
The whole audience took their pleasure sadly,
although with the most perfect good-humour.
The misfortunes of the stage "Bobby"- a very
different character from the strong, stern men in
blue who here and there looked calmly on at their caricaturist - alone excited them to mirth; they
cheered when he had his head cut off, and it
was put into a pie, and wildly clapped their hands
when he was turned out, thin and flattened, from
the mangling machine. It seemed to me, however,
that this antagonism was merely conventional;
that the mass of spectators entertained no more
genuine animosity against the guardians of the
peace, than do the boys who welcome a Guy Faux
against their fellows of the Roman Catholic persuasion. No; what the fifth of November is to
his Holiness the Pope, such is Boxing-night to the
policeman; it is his time of trial and popular
condemnation; but his execution only takes place [-92-]
in effigy, and means nothing after all. Within
the walls of the Theatre-Royal, Putt Street, I did
not hear one single exclamation of anger or of
coarseness; nor was there any spectacle beheld
from our stage-box - unless it were shirt-sleeves -
which the most modest lady in the land (although
I do not say the most prudish) had any need to
blush at. This Home Correspondent, who is
himself as sensitive as a Vestal Virgin (and even
more afraid of fire), never changed colour once.