Punch: Punch (96.1889)

PUNCH, OP THE LONDON CHARIVARI,

[February 23, 1889.

ALL IN PLAY.

Dear Mr. Punch,

When I learned that it was your desire that I should, so to
speak, sample the London Theatres, not only for the benefit of the
Metropolitan Public, hut for the information of the greater part of

CEMMvCTEIR^ 1N doo©

“ Grood Old Blood and Thunder.

the civilised world (always “ coming to town ”), I was delighted, as
I knew I should at length, have an opportunity of seeing Mr. Wilson
Barrett once more in a. romantic character. This nleasing tragedian
is, in my opinion, at his best as a persecuted hero of Melodrama.
I admit that some, like his Hamlet (which certainly is a creation that
would not he considered incongruous in the Tottenham Court Road),
while others, I confess, find more pathos, in his Claudian, than in
all the “ serious moments ” of Mr. Toole in Paw Claudian (good as
that popular gentleman is in the character) put together. ' For all
that, personally, I prefer Mr. Wilson Barrett in some such imper-
sonation as John Langley in Good Old Times, than in any other.
It is delightful to hear him declaiming, in the centre of the stage,
the noblest sentiments. It is magnificent to find him brave but
luckless during three-fourths of a piece, to come out braver than
ever and overwhelmed with good fortune in the last quarter. In
Good Old Tunes (I did not quite understand the title, but fancy it
may he meant as a subtle compliment to the “leading journal,”
when I suggest that Good Old Punch would he better), Mr. Wilson
Barrett is a Sheriff of Cumberland, who has a mad clergyman
known as “ Parson Langley ” (this is the only way I can account for
this strange ecclesiastic being seemingly dispossessed of his property
by his own son, and certainly wearing the gaiters of a bishop) for a
father. As Sheriff, he has married Miss Eastlake, who, for some
reason or other, shirks meeting the murderer of her father,—a
murderer who also happens to be her lover, and who has concealed
his identity under an assumed name. Mr. Barrett becomes jealous

of this former lover, when
he pays him a visit on
Christmas Eve (which
being kept festively in
Holme Place, Derwent-
water, with two motto-cards
and a few sprigs of holly),
hut upon finding subse-
quently that he (the mur-
derer) has been shot by his
(the Sheriff's) wife, oblig-
ingly takes the consequences
of Miss Eastlake’s crime
upon his own shoulders.
Those consequences entail
transportation for a series
of years to poor Mr. Wilson
Barrett, for life to Mr.
Lewis Waller (the excel-
lent representative of the
villanous early lover of Miss Eastlaee), and expatriation to Miss
Eastlake herself. The consequences further entail scenes in a convict
settlement, a long panorama, a serio-comic savage, a wholly humorous
colonial clergyman, and several sketches of low cockney life. Here let
me say that I have discarded the names of the dramatis personae, and
kept to those of the performers, as the easiest means of identification.
To the last I was in doubt about the real title of the heroine, and I
fancy had the matter been brought before the learned President of
the Probate Division of the High Court of Justice, that his Lordship
would have been equally puzzled. Perhaps the most pleasing incident

A Dangerous Situation. The Part-Author
•with his (fowling-) piece.

in the play is where Miss Eastlake, cleverly disguising herself as
Marie Antoinette, take3 her convict husband into her household
without his discovering her identity. This is the nobler conduct on her
part, as the persecuted Mr. Barrett continually carries about with
him a gun that he handles so recklessly that it must be the terror of
all those within its range in the neighbourhood. In the course of
this charming situation, Mr. Barrett laments that he (the infant in
question unhappily being defunct) “will never see his baby boy.”
And there are few who do not join in his sorrow, as a long line of
Langleys (with speeches to match) is a prospect that offers to most
persons a weird fascination. In the last scene the mad “Parson”
arrives in Tasmania (apparently with the insane idea of causing
Miss Eastlake to be hanged) is united to his son, and all ends
happily. This being so, it is unnecessary to add that the heroine
ceases to be Marie Antoinette by discarding her wig, and, having
done so, becomes once again the comely Mrs. Langley.

I can conscientiously recommend Good Old Times to those who
like the more ancient form of Melodrama. It reminded me fre-
quently of Good Old Skelt, not to say Good Old Penny Plain and

A Theatrical Float. (Sketched from behind the Scenes.)

Twopence Coloured. On the first night the Panorama was a little
unmanageable, and consequently it was a comfort to me to see that
Mr, Wilson Barrett (who was very much to the front in a stationary
canoe) was accompanied by his Chaplain, as I cannot help thinking
that it would have been an extra trial to this always courteous
Tragedian had not the presence of a Clergyman exercised a restrain-
ing influence upon what would naturally have been, under such
trying circumstances, the bent of his eloquence. Had I been in his
place as part Author and leading Actor, I know that I should have
found great difficulty in uttering noble sentiments behind the scenes
to the stage-carpenters. However, all’s well that ends well, and
Good Old Times ended very well indeed. Both Mr. Wilson Barrett
and Miss Eastlake received any number of floral souvenirs—a
demonstration which gave the former an opportunity of displaying
once again his pluck and common sense. This time not behind, but
before the curtain. A bouquet.caught fire, and Mr. Wilson Barrett
immediately put it out with his boots.

Of the other theatres, I may.say that Nadgy is doing well at the

A Very Cold Audience. (Suggestion for the Stalls in Mid-winter.)

Avenue, and The Balloon set the Strand. Mr. Beerbohm Tree, I
am told, has strengthened his legs in Sir John Falstaff, which were
thought at first (by the hypercritical) a little thin for the part. Ihis
versatile Actor seems to be able to accomplish everything he can
even supply his own understudy! Pickwick . is flourishing at the
Comedy, and Macbeth is drawing enormous audiences to the Lyceum.