CRIMINAL TRIALS-PUGILISM-BRUTAL EXHIBITIONS. other utensils was scarcely fit for drinking | after it had stood in filthy yards or in close confined rooms, subject to all kinds of emanations from drains and other sources of infection. As to daily ablutions, or even of a weekly bath, there was scarcely a poor neighbourhood where such a provision existed; and in London even the better class of houses were not, and many of them are not now, provided with any water supply for bathing purposes, nor with a bath to receive it even if they chose to pay the extra rate which the companies demand for providing the means of ordinary cleanliness. Other towns and cities of the kingdom have long been far in advance of London in this respect. Among the great public enterprises of the year 1859 had been that of the Glasgow Water Works Commissioners, who obtained an abundant supply of fine water from Loch Katrine. To overcome the first great engineering difficulty they had been obliged to tunnel a mountain 600 feet below the summit for 2325 yards in length and 8 feet in diameter, and this was only the first of a series of seventy tunnels measuring altogether thirteen miles in length. The bogs were traversed by nearly four miles of iron pipes and the rivers and valleys by above nine miles of aqueducts. Londoners might well have looked with longing eyes on a scheme which provided Glasgow with fifty million gallons of pure soft water daily; and the completion of the works, the total cost of which had been about £1,500,000, was sigualized by the presence of the Queen, with Prince Albert and two of the princesses, her majesty having journeyed from Edinburgh to the outflow at Loch Katrine on her way southward, for the purpose of inaugurating the new enterprise by putting in motion the apparatus for admitting the waters of the lake into the first tunnel. Increased political and commercial liberty, enormous additions to public works, the extension of the means of travelling, and numerous adaptations of discoveries and inventions, were accompanied by certain significant changes in the social if not in the moral 5 attitude of the population. It was a time of transition, or rather we were on the edge of further important changes in our political and social relations, and it was not to be wondered at that there were some extravagances which were occasionally difficult to reconcile with the belief in general moral and intellectual progress: but in looking back it is more easy to assign to them their true character as final ebullitions of certain popular sports which were becoming obsolete, or as peculiar results of the substitution of one kind of public amusement for another, or even as the outcome of those transmutations which follow a sudden endeavour to introduce the customs and recreations of other countries, where even amusements are directly controlled and regulated by government officials. The records of crime during this period were not remarkable for increased brutality, but it may be mentioned as having some relation to an account of the social aspects of the time, that there appeared an increasing reluctance to convict of crimes involving capital punishment, except on the most indisputable evidence, and with an evident desire to give any prisoner the benefit of the least doubt rather than inflict the extreme penalty of the law. The consequence of this was a considerable extension of the time during which every important trial lasted--the minute examination of the evidence of numerous witnesses, and the gradual adoption of the present cumbersome and apparently unnecessary proceeding of trying cases twice over-once before the police magistrate or the coroner, and again before the tribunal to which the accused was committed. Perhaps one of the most remarkable evidences of what many people regarded as a declension of public morality, or at least a reaction in favour of what may be called gross and brutal exhibitions, was the almost universal interest expressed in a great prize-fight between the so-called pugilistic "champion of England' "Tom Sayers, and an antagonist named Heenan, but known as the "Benicia Boy," who came from America for the avowed purpose of wresting the "belt" from the man who had been proclaimed the most formidable boxer in England. For some time it was found difficult to arrange a match, but the proposed conflict had caused so much excitement, and was known to be regarded with so much expectant attention among influential persons, that, either the police were baffled, or they made only a show of taking effectual means for preventing what was clearly an illegal assembly. On the 17th of April, 1860, a special train left London Bridge station, and, eluding a number of mounted police who were stationed for a considerable distance along the line, where it was expected the passengers would alight, turned off from the supposed route and stopped at Farnborough. Not far from Aldershott, in a field on the Hampshire side, a ring was formed, and the two men, who had there met for the first time, stood up amidst a great crowd of spectators, largely composed of noblemen, gentlemen of rank, members of parliament, members of the learned and artistic professions, and even of clergymen. It is only reasonable to conclude that some kind of sentiment not very easy to explain had grown out of the public excitement, and probably also out of the bellicose spirit promoted by the recent aggressive temper of the country, which eclipsed the actual nature of an exhibition more brutal and sickening than had ever been witnessed even in the modern prize-ring. There is no need to follow the revolting details. Heenan, the American, was a youthful giant six feet two inches in height, of enormous muscular proportions, with overwhelming strength, and in perfect training. Sayers was but five feet eight inches high, and though a powerful man, and rendered hard and enduring by constant exercise, not comparable to his antagonist except for activity, cool skill, and that sort of intrepidity which is of the bull-dog sort. For thirty-eight "rounds" these two men pounded each other with blows, by which they were frequently dashed to the ground. Heenan's face was battered out of human semblance, and when the fight was over he was completely blinded by the terrific and repeated hits of his adversary, one of whose arms had been completely disabled at an early period of the fight. Sayers was a less dreadful spec tacle, but he also received severe though only temporary injuries, and might have succumbed to Heenan, who, it was said, caught him at the ropes and nearly strangled him, but that some alleged unfairness in this proceeding caused the umpires to put an end to the fight, just as the police, who had at last mustered in suffi cient force, broke their way into the ring. This termination to the horrible spectacle caused much dissatisfaction and a good deal of crimination between the rival backers, which was but imperfectly allayed by the presentation of a belt to each of the combatants. Sayers, however, who was regarded as a hero, made a kind of triumphal entry into London and afterwards into Liverpool, considerable sums being collected for him on the Stock Exchange and at other places. The event might not have found a record in these pages but for the fact that one of those places was the division lobby of the House of Commons, where "the great prize-fight" became the subject of part of the proceedings. Mr. W. Ewart, member for Dumfries, rose to ask whether steps would be taken to prevent such brutal exhibitions in future. Mr. Vincent Scully, an Irishman with a considerable dash of humour in his character, gravely protested against the "outrage of public morals," which he averred would not be tolerated in Ireland. Sir George Cornewall Lewis, as home secretary, made a half serious half humorous reply which meant little or nothing, and in which he remarked that "it had been said that pugilistic encounters afforded a model of fair fighting, and afforded an inducement to practise a mode of fighting better than the use of the bowieknife or the stiletto, or that other mode of fighting not uncommon in Ireland, namely, with the shillelagh." This was, of course, one way of getting out of the difficulty, but Lord Palmerston had declared that he saw nothing more demoralizing in a boxing-match than in an ascent in a balloon. This declaration may have had some pungent truth in it, but the fact remained that prize-fighting was an offence against the law. Many of the members chuckled or laughed outright at the home secretary's evasion of the difficulty, and some of the sporting representatives of the nation DEGRADING AMUSEMENTS-MUSIC-HALLS-CREMORNE. stationed themselves in the lobby and levied contributions for Tom Sayers which amounted altogether to about a hundred pounds. But from that time the prize-ring ceased to be acknowledged as a national institution. It was, perhaps, a good thing that the latest attempt to revive it had been accompanied with so much that was revolting, and when the false enthusiasm cooled, "the championship" of professional bruisers soon ceased to be of any imperial or of much public concern. "I am not very proud," wrote Cobden to Mr. Hargreaves, "of the spectacle presented by our merchants, brokers, and M.P.'s in their ovations to the pugilist Sayers. This comes from the brutal instincts having been so sedulously cultivated by our wars in the Crimea, and especially in India and China. I have always dreaded that our national character would undergo deterioration (as did that of Greece and Rome) by our contact with Asia. With another war or two in India and China, the English people would have an appetite for bull-fights, if not for gladiators." Lord Palmerston's remark that a boxingmatch was no more demoralizing than a balloon ascent had more in it than may appear at first sight. There was a general tendency to increase exhibitions the chief attractions of which were the perils in which the performers were placed, and balloon ascents, including a male or a female acrobat swinging from a "trapeze" fastened to the car,-or mounted or suspended on a kind of platform surrounded by fireworks, were found exceedingly attractive. Women, or youths pretending to be women, performed gymnastic feats, the least. failure in which, or in the apparatus, would be dangerous and might prove fatal. These exhibitions took place in music-halls and other places. The music-hall itself was becoming a permanent institution. The old fairs like that formerly held at Greenwich had been abolished. Bartlemy and Bow and Stepney fairs had been suppressed in the interests of public order and morality, but large buildings, licensed for music, for stage-dancing, and for performances of other descriptions, and licensed also for the sale of strong drink and tobacco to the audience, began to multiply. Instead of being only 7 occasional resorts like the fairs, these places were open nightly, to admit the debased and the degraded as well as the comparatively innocent. In some instances the music-halls became sinks of immorality, and in most cases they possessed dangerous facilities for contracting vicious habits and joining evil company. Since the Great Exhibition of 1851, and subsequent on supposed familiarity with foreign customs and amusements, there had been constant endeavours to assimilate some of our public recreations to those which were represented to be the simple, gay, and sober amusements of the people who resorted to the concert-rooms and gardens of France, Italy, and Germany. The most conspicuous result seems to have been the multiplication of licenses, which included amusements neither simple nor sober even if they could be called gay; and the resuscitation of certain "gardens," where, if the "humours" of old Ranelagh and Vauxhall were present, the gross immoralities of both were probably sometimes surpassed. Of these public gardens, that called Cremorne, on the banks of the river near Chelsea, was most conspicuous and most largely patronized. It was known that personages of high rank frequently visited it and joined with demi-reps and the demi-monde in the bals masqués and other amusements. For some time it was a resort of all the "fast" set in society, and even some of the more prudent went occasionally to see what it was like; but a peculiar fatality attended it. To maintain its attractions constant changes of performance and "sensational" exhibitions must be provided, and the proprietors could not make it pay. Among the excitements of Cremorne were the periodical insolvency of its entrepreneurs. Fortunately, perhaps, for our moral and social progress, the public bal masqué did not take any definite hold on the class of persons whom it was most likely to injure, and though such entertainments were frequently attempted, they eventually became, like the modern bal de l'opéra in Paris, very dreary affairs, in which the performers were mostly of a low and degraded class, appearing in meaningless costumes, and adding to their ignorance the extravagant imbecility produced by intoxication. The at tempt to introduce the Parisian fashion of holding these assemblies at our theatres failed, as it deserved to do, but not before it had been associated with a serious loss upon the public, for even as early as March, 1856, one of the most calamitous results of a night's entertainment of this description was the destruction of the Royal Italian Opera House at Covent Garden by fire, so suddenly that in two hours the stately fabric was in ruins. During the operatic recess Mr. Gye, the lessee of the theatre, had sublet it to a performer of sleightof-hand feats, who called himself Professor Anderson, and was known as "The Wizard of the North." He brought his short season to a close by an entertainment described as a "grand carnival complimentary benefit and dramatic gala, to commence on Monday morning and terminate with a bal masqué on Tuesday night." On the last day of the show the amusements proceeded with animation, and if with freedom still with decorum, until, as the night advanced, the more respectable or cautious withdrew, and the disreputable yielded to the temptation of excitement and wine. After midnight the theatre is said to have presented a scene of undisguised indecency, drunkenness, and vice, such as the lowest places of resort have rarely witnessed. Between four and five o'clock the professor thought it time to close the orgies, and commanded the band to play the national anthem. The gas at the same time was turned down a little to warn the revellers to depart. At this moment the gasfitter discovered fire issuing from the cracks of the ceiling, and amid the wildest shrieking and confusion the drunken, panic-stricken masquers rushed to the street. It was now hardly five o'clock, and yet in the few minutes which had elapsed the doom of the theatre was sealed. The flames had burst through the roof, sending high up into the air columns of fire, which threw into bright reflection every tower and spire within the circuit of the metropolis, brilliantly illuminating the whole fabric of St. Paul's and throwing a flood of light across Waterloo Bridge, which set out in bold relief the dark outline of the Surrey Hills. This glare operated as a speedy messenger in bringing up the fire-engines from every quarter of London at a tearing gallop to the scene of conflagration. There was no want of water, but neither engines nor water were of any avail in saving the property. The theatre blazed within its four hollow walls like a furnace, and at half-past five o'clock the roof fell in with a tremendous crash. The building was uninsured, no office having been willing to grant a policy after the fire of 1808. Mr. Gye had effected an insurance on his properties to the amount of £8000, and Mr. Anderson to the amount of £2000. Mr. Braidwood, the experienced superintendent of the London fire establishment, was of opinion that the fire had originated from spontaneous combustion among the masses of waste stuff accumulated in the workshops-an opinion strengthened by the evidence of Mr. Grieve, the scenepainter, who stated that on a previous occasion he had called attention to a heap of such materials allowed to gather, and which, when removed by his authority, were found to be too hot for handling. The theatre was not rebuilt till May, 1858. But though many extravagances arose out of the changes in public customs, there were many indications of a remarkable improvement in our popular amusements. The grand promenade concerts, over which M. Jullien presided, have already been mentioned, and they had been effectual not only in popularizing much of the best music, but in introducing some of the best performers in Europe to large audiences of the middle and even the decent lower classes in London. From all parts of England people came to "Jullien's concerts" at Covent Garden Theatre, and along with the performances of oratorios by the members of two harmonic societies at Exeter Hall, this "monstre orchestra" may be said to have developed a taste for the execution on a grand scale of good vocal and instrumental music. M. Jullien had but a short career. He died in an asylum for the insane in Paris, and his successors scarcely maintained the attractions which had made his concerts so famous, but performances by large orchestras and "monstre" concerts of various kinds were not dependent on any particular REFINED AMUSEMENTS-CONCERTS-ALBERT SMITH. 9 conductor, and associated "choirs," includ- | given with an easy rapidity which carried the ing those of Sunday scholars and various societies, repeatedly appeared at the Crystal Palace and at Exeter Hall. At the former place the great "Handel centenary," which was celebrated by a performance of the great composer's works, was an important event. It lasted three days, the 20th, 21st, and 22d of June, 1859. The central transept was converted into a vast concert hall 360 feet long by 216 wide, containing an area of 77,000 feet, and there were also several tiers of galleries. The choir numbered 2765 persons, the band 393. On the first day above 17,000 persons were present, on the second 18,000, and on the third nearly 27,000. The receipts of the three days were above £33,000 and the expenses about £18,000. Thenceforward the Handel Festival became an annual celebration, and was looked forward to by large numbers of persons in London with as much interest as the annual musical festivals in some of our cathedral cities excite in the inhabitants of those districts, and the musical connoisseurs who attend the performances. It is scarcely possible to refer to the numerous and varied forms of public amusement which seem to have made this period the commencement of a new era in the art of "entertainment," without mentioning the charming descriptions and humorous sketches of character by Mr. Albert Smith at the Egyptian Hall in Piccadilly. Albert Smith, already well known as a witty journalist and novelist, whose contributions to Punch and other periodicals had often made the world laugh, was also distinguished for genial bonhomie, an attractive presence, and for that rare and valuable art of becoming in a moment on good terms with his audience, which is certain to command success for a lecturer. His entertainments were humorous, but graphic and striking descriptions of the journey to Switzerland and the Bernese Oberland, especially to Chamounix: of the ascent of Mont Blanc, and,—as a separate lecture, of the overland route to Hong Kong. The course of his "lectures" was diversified, not only by excellent panoramic views painted by Mr. Beverley, but by stories, sketches of character, and original songs, all audience with him from beginning to end. He was perfectly familiar with the scenes he described, and the characters he portrayed were familiar to the audience. Perhaps his was at one time the most popular entertainment in London for refined and educated people, and as he himself used archly to observe, numbers of persons would attend it and would secure seats for their families, who would on no account enter a theatre to witness a regular dramatic performance. The queen and the royal family were particularly delighted with Mr. Albert Smith's performance, and the Prince Consort notices it in his journal with the words "very amusing" appended to the entry which appears among much graver matters. The lectures which had delighted London, and had made the fortune of Chamounix, by sending thousands of English travellers thither, were continued and repeated with almost undiminished success, till, unhappily, the genial author and raconteur was almost worn out, and though a robust man, he fell into ill-health, and to the great grief of a wide circle of friends to whom he was much endeared, died at the age of forty-four, on the 22d of May, 1860. It may be mentioned that Mr. Albert Smith had married Miss Mary Keeley, the daughter of the famous comedian, and herself well known as an actress at the Adelpl.i Theatre. Numerous entertainments of a similar elegant and refined description attracted considerable audiences. Lectures on science at the Royal Institution, where Professor Faraday showed brilliant experiments, were supplemented by others at various institutions, and notably at the "Polytechnic" in Regent Street, a great resort for juveniles whose parents or guardians believed in combining instruction with amusement, and therefore were willing to devote a long evening to the diving-bell machinery in motion, the diorama, a lecture on chemistry, a great gas microscope reflecting objects on a screen by means of a magic lantern, and a series of songs in the nature of an "entertainment" to accompany the beautiful series of dissolving views. The "Polytechnic" had formerly had a rival in the "Adelaide Gallery," near the Lowther |