DOI Heft:
February 14, 1880
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17763#0068
February 14, 1880.1 PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 61
JUVENILE PARTIES.
{What they are getting to.)
Madeline (aged Four). “What do you think, Gerald ! We ’re
TO BE FETCHED FROM THE BROWNS’ AT HALF-PAST NINE ! It SAYS
so on the Card ! ”
Gerald (aged Five). “ No !—what a Shame ! I votes we don’t
go ! ” \_Seconded and carried unanimously.
AN “ 0. P” (OR OLD PIT) ROW AT THE
ITAYMARKET.
(By a he-fogged Old Fogey, perhaps.)
Sir,—Let me appear for the People—the people done out of their
old Haymarket Pit.
At a time when Operatic Managers are reducing prices and abro-
gating restrictions, so as to bring their entertainment within reach
of the million—when they are doing so much to popularise the Lyric
Stage, and giving the best representation at the smallest possible
prices, the Theatrical Managers who honestly desire the elevation of
the Stage, and who, by the restoration of careful rehearsal and atten-
tion to details, have effected so much for the good of Dramatic Art,
are doing their best to unpopularise the Theatre, and to give to one
small select opulent class what was meant for the public at large.
■ Yes, Mr. Bancroft, Sir, I respectfully address you in the name of
the Theatre-goin" Public. I do not doubt your good intentions,
with which the Haymarket is ornamented ; but if you cannot afford
to keep up the Haymarket Pit, you ought never to have taken the
Haymarket Theatre.
Don’t be under any mistake, my excellent Manager. Give us less
bric-a-brac, give us less costly properties, sacrifice some of your
ultra-devotion to realism, and give us instead reasonable prices all
over the house, and restore that venerable institution, the Pit of the
Haymarket.
If Paterfamilias wants to goto the theatre nowadays he has to
consider the matter seriously. Young Masters Crutch and Tooth-
pick, with their sisters, the Misses Eelskin, won't go anywhere else
than in the Stalls. The Stalls are fashionable, and St. James’s
aR(l the Haymarket (under Bancroftian management), are fashion-
able theatres. _ The young people like to visit the fashionable
theatres; hut if they do, they will go in the fashionable places, and
pay the fashionable prices. Do they go out of love of the Drama ?
Not a hit. They go to be seen, and to see, and to say they’ve been.
They go the Stalls of the fashionable theatres as they will go to
the Stalls at the Italian Opera in the season. Do they care one whit
more for Music than they do for the Drama ? No. Poor Pater-
familias with stalls at ten shillings a-piece, can’t get through his one
evening’s entertainment much under a five-pound note, and
though his family may have the exquisite pleasure of getting a
glimpse of Royalty in a box, of nodding to a titled club acquaintance
—whom young Crutch will proudly point out to his sisters,—of
meeting the DePonsonby Smiths, of seeing the fashionable beauties,
and hearing (probably in whispers during the performance) the
fashionable scandals, yet poor Paterfamilias himself will not have
experienced such intellectual pleasure as will recompense him in
any degree for his outlay, nor will it strike him that his children
have been morally improved by the visit.
The Manager will probably say that one success at these prices
will recoup him for any previous losses, and that as long as the
public will pay his charges, so long is he justified in making them.
The public, however, will not go on paying his charges. A portion
of the public may do so, whose pockets are not inconvenienced by
having to pay dearly for luxuries; but even these will find the
prices high for bric-a-brac and realistic properties, and when they
withdraw the attraction of their fashionable presence, then the
snobs, who only went for the sake of the nobs, will go too, and
your stalls, on which you depended, will be empty—empty, as the
majority of their former occupants,—and then what have you to
look to ? A Pit ? No. That you chased away. A Dress Circle ?
No. That you made expensive and unfashionable F A Gallery ?
Oh, dear, no, you never played to a Gallery. Private Boxes ? Yes
—for friends; and Upper Circle for “ orders.”
The Manager will reply, that a successful piece will bring them all
back again. Not all. Your former patrons will be chary of return-
ing ; and that public, which you have disregarded and which you
have driven away by your high prices, will have found some other
amusement, will have lost what taste it had for the Drama, and,
feeling no sort of interest in your success or failure, will leave you
and your theatres to take care of themselves, to sink or swim, as
best you can.
Mr. Manager Bancroft, you were sufficiently sensible to refuse a
public testimonial when you felt you had done nothing to deserve it.
You have had your Turnerelli, and you have wisely rejected, as
did our Premier before you, and Caesar before him, a crown—
now, take this opportunity of doing a gracious act, and, as you have
“restored” the Haymarket Theatre, go a step farther, and restore
the Pit. And, Messieurs Managers, lower your expenses and
your prices all round. Give us less costly realism, and more real
acting. Encourage the public to visit your theatres frequently at
what may be called popular prices. Let each house have its
speciality, giving the public the best of its kind. All houses have not
Companies for Comedy, nor all for Tragedy, nor all for Drama, nor
all for Burlesque, Pantomime, or Spectacles, — just as in the
vast public, not everyone cares for Tragedy, not everyone for
Comedy, and so on. There is a large class who would not thank
you to be taken gratis to the best seat in the house to witness the
best possible representation of any one of Shakspeare’s plays.
There is a large class which prefers Tragedy to Comedy, and is
intolerant of Farce and Burlesque. There is again, a large class
which asks only to he made to laugh, and who, coming from their
business, trade, or profession, and from their troubles and worries,
prefer laughter, and sparkle, and nonsense, and music, and dances,
to the greatest dramatic intellectual treat that could be provided for
them. Chacun a son goiit—hut no one wishes to pay exorbitantly
for what he would take as a frequent relaxation, and so Managers
of all theatres, be their specialite what it may, will do well, in view
of popular support, to reduce their prices all round.
I remain, Mr. Bancroft and Gentlemen,
“The People’s Bill” of the Play.
[This is one view of the matter. It is obvious there is another.—Mr. P.’s
Note.) __
DISAGREEABLE FROM CONSTANTINOPLE.
“ The Sultan is suffering from indisposition, and the dinner which His
Majesty intended giving in honour of Sir Henry Lay'Ard is postponed until
Sunday.
“ The Ottoman Bank having declined to continue paying the salaries of
the Turkish Ambassadors abroad, the Porte is making arrangements for the
payments to be effected through other banks.”—Turkish News.
Let us hope that the Sultan’s indisposition is nothing worse than
an indisposition to receive the British Ambassador. Or can it be
that as the Ottoman Bank has stopped the Ambassadors’ salaries, the
Stamboul butchers have again stopped the supplies to the Sultan’s
purveyors, and that no dinner was forthcoming ?
JUVENILE PARTIES.
{What they are getting to.)
Madeline (aged Four). “What do you think, Gerald ! We ’re
TO BE FETCHED FROM THE BROWNS’ AT HALF-PAST NINE ! It SAYS
so on the Card ! ”
Gerald (aged Five). “ No !—what a Shame ! I votes we don’t
go ! ” \_Seconded and carried unanimously.
AN “ 0. P” (OR OLD PIT) ROW AT THE
ITAYMARKET.
(By a he-fogged Old Fogey, perhaps.)
Sir,—Let me appear for the People—the people done out of their
old Haymarket Pit.
At a time when Operatic Managers are reducing prices and abro-
gating restrictions, so as to bring their entertainment within reach
of the million—when they are doing so much to popularise the Lyric
Stage, and giving the best representation at the smallest possible
prices, the Theatrical Managers who honestly desire the elevation of
the Stage, and who, by the restoration of careful rehearsal and atten-
tion to details, have effected so much for the good of Dramatic Art,
are doing their best to unpopularise the Theatre, and to give to one
small select opulent class what was meant for the public at large.
■ Yes, Mr. Bancroft, Sir, I respectfully address you in the name of
the Theatre-goin" Public. I do not doubt your good intentions,
with which the Haymarket is ornamented ; but if you cannot afford
to keep up the Haymarket Pit, you ought never to have taken the
Haymarket Theatre.
Don’t be under any mistake, my excellent Manager. Give us less
bric-a-brac, give us less costly properties, sacrifice some of your
ultra-devotion to realism, and give us instead reasonable prices all
over the house, and restore that venerable institution, the Pit of the
Haymarket.
If Paterfamilias wants to goto the theatre nowadays he has to
consider the matter seriously. Young Masters Crutch and Tooth-
pick, with their sisters, the Misses Eelskin, won't go anywhere else
than in the Stalls. The Stalls are fashionable, and St. James’s
aR(l the Haymarket (under Bancroftian management), are fashion-
able theatres. _ The young people like to visit the fashionable
theatres; hut if they do, they will go in the fashionable places, and
pay the fashionable prices. Do they go out of love of the Drama ?
Not a hit. They go to be seen, and to see, and to say they’ve been.
They go the Stalls of the fashionable theatres as they will go to
the Stalls at the Italian Opera in the season. Do they care one whit
more for Music than they do for the Drama ? No. Poor Pater-
familias with stalls at ten shillings a-piece, can’t get through his one
evening’s entertainment much under a five-pound note, and
though his family may have the exquisite pleasure of getting a
glimpse of Royalty in a box, of nodding to a titled club acquaintance
—whom young Crutch will proudly point out to his sisters,—of
meeting the DePonsonby Smiths, of seeing the fashionable beauties,
and hearing (probably in whispers during the performance) the
fashionable scandals, yet poor Paterfamilias himself will not have
experienced such intellectual pleasure as will recompense him in
any degree for his outlay, nor will it strike him that his children
have been morally improved by the visit.
The Manager will probably say that one success at these prices
will recoup him for any previous losses, and that as long as the
public will pay his charges, so long is he justified in making them.
The public, however, will not go on paying his charges. A portion
of the public may do so, whose pockets are not inconvenienced by
having to pay dearly for luxuries; but even these will find the
prices high for bric-a-brac and realistic properties, and when they
withdraw the attraction of their fashionable presence, then the
snobs, who only went for the sake of the nobs, will go too, and
your stalls, on which you depended, will be empty—empty, as the
majority of their former occupants,—and then what have you to
look to ? A Pit ? No. That you chased away. A Dress Circle ?
No. That you made expensive and unfashionable F A Gallery ?
Oh, dear, no, you never played to a Gallery. Private Boxes ? Yes
—for friends; and Upper Circle for “ orders.”
The Manager will reply, that a successful piece will bring them all
back again. Not all. Your former patrons will be chary of return-
ing ; and that public, which you have disregarded and which you
have driven away by your high prices, will have found some other
amusement, will have lost what taste it had for the Drama, and,
feeling no sort of interest in your success or failure, will leave you
and your theatres to take care of themselves, to sink or swim, as
best you can.
Mr. Manager Bancroft, you were sufficiently sensible to refuse a
public testimonial when you felt you had done nothing to deserve it.
You have had your Turnerelli, and you have wisely rejected, as
did our Premier before you, and Caesar before him, a crown—
now, take this opportunity of doing a gracious act, and, as you have
“restored” the Haymarket Theatre, go a step farther, and restore
the Pit. And, Messieurs Managers, lower your expenses and
your prices all round. Give us less costly realism, and more real
acting. Encourage the public to visit your theatres frequently at
what may be called popular prices. Let each house have its
speciality, giving the public the best of its kind. All houses have not
Companies for Comedy, nor all for Tragedy, nor all for Drama, nor
all for Burlesque, Pantomime, or Spectacles, — just as in the
vast public, not everyone cares for Tragedy, not everyone for
Comedy, and so on. There is a large class who would not thank
you to be taken gratis to the best seat in the house to witness the
best possible representation of any one of Shakspeare’s plays.
There is a large class which prefers Tragedy to Comedy, and is
intolerant of Farce and Burlesque. There is again, a large class
which asks only to he made to laugh, and who, coming from their
business, trade, or profession, and from their troubles and worries,
prefer laughter, and sparkle, and nonsense, and music, and dances,
to the greatest dramatic intellectual treat that could be provided for
them. Chacun a son goiit—hut no one wishes to pay exorbitantly
for what he would take as a frequent relaxation, and so Managers
of all theatres, be their specialite what it may, will do well, in view
of popular support, to reduce their prices all round.
I remain, Mr. Bancroft and Gentlemen,
“The People’s Bill” of the Play.
[This is one view of the matter. It is obvious there is another.—Mr. P.’s
Note.) __
DISAGREEABLE FROM CONSTANTINOPLE.
“ The Sultan is suffering from indisposition, and the dinner which His
Majesty intended giving in honour of Sir Henry Lay'Ard is postponed until
Sunday.
“ The Ottoman Bank having declined to continue paying the salaries of
the Turkish Ambassadors abroad, the Porte is making arrangements for the
payments to be effected through other banks.”—Turkish News.
Let us hope that the Sultan’s indisposition is nothing worse than
an indisposition to receive the British Ambassador. Or can it be
that as the Ottoman Bank has stopped the Ambassadors’ salaries, the
Stamboul butchers have again stopped the supplies to the Sultan’s
purveyors, and that no dinner was forthcoming ?