Accordingly, we soon found ourselves at that notable place of
hippodramatic entertainment. In former years, Astley's was by far the
most national of all the metropolitan theatres. It afforded the best
practical exposition of the military history of Europe. One by one the
fiery fights of the Peninsula and of Flanders were reproduced with an
almost unnecessary amount of carnage. Real cannon--or at least
cylinders which had every appearance of being bored--rumbled nightly
across the stage. Squadrons of dragoons, mounted upon piebald,
cream-coloured, and flea-bitten chargers, used to dash desperately
through groves of canvass in pursuit of despairing fugitives; and
terrific were the thunders of applause as the chivalry assailed a
bridge, or overleaped the battlements of a fortification. No feat was
too impracticable for these centaurs--no chasm too enormous for their
vault; and it really was a touching thing to observe that, whenever a
trooper fell, his horse invariably knelt down beside him, and seemed
to beseech him to arise by pathetically nibbling at his buttons. The
entertainments usually concluded with a series of single combats, a
transparency of Britannia seated on a garden roller, and a most
prodigal distribution of laurel. They were not only blameless, but
highly praiseworthy and patriotic exhibitions; and it is deeply to be
regretted that they are rapidly falling into desuetude.
There is no denying the fact that Astley's has undergone a change.
There may be as much good riding as ever, and as fearless bounding on
the tight-rope--the courier of St Petersburg may still pursue the
uneven tenor of his way along the backs of six simultaneous
geldings--and the lover may regain his bride by passing through the
terrific ordeal of the blazing hoop as of yore. But the British
feeling--the indomitable spirit--the strong, burly, independent
patriotism of the ring has departed, and the Union Jack no longer
floats triumphant over a sea of sawdust. This is matter of painful
thought, for it is a marked sign of the decadence of the national
drama.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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