January 14 .] 
THE FIELD 
43 
woman named Mafl'oy, placed at the bar before Mr. Broughton 
for re-examination, llio male prisoner being charged with 
haying stolen property to the amount of from 300/. to 400/. be- 
longing to officers of the regiment, and the woman with receiving 
a portion of the plunder, and disposing of the same, with a 
guilty knowledge. Mr. Humphreys appeared for the prosecution. 
From the evidence gone into, which was very lengthy, it appeared 
that the prisoner, whose trade was that of a carpenter, was in 
the habit of making boxes, <fcc., for the officers in the storeroom, 
where valuable property was deposited by them, at the barracks, 
St, John’s-wood. On the 15th ult. it was ascertained that military 
equipments, with costly gold lace, as also plate and otherarticles, 
to the amount of at least 100/., had been extracted from Lieut. 
Murray's boxes and drawers. The prisoner Brown was, at the 
period of the discovery, away from the regiment. It was also 
shown that three other officers, Lieutenant-Colonel Hall, Captain 
Penleze, and Lieutenant Quin bad been robbed to a large extent, 
in consequence of Brown having had access to that part of the 
barracks where their property was for security placed. Bow, 
383 S, a very active officer, ultimately captured both the prisoners 
at a house in Bath, and in the room which they inhabited much 
of the stolen property was met with, together with pawnbrokers' 
duplicates. The assistants of numerous pawnbrokers wero 
in attendance, bringing with them property which had been 
pledged at their respective shops by the woman Mafl'cy, and upon 
identification thereof as to ownership, the prisoners were fully 
committed for trial upon four charges. 
CLEB KEN WELL. 
The Acton Mystery. — Mr. George Wtldbore, proprietor of 
the New Inn, Waltham-cross, and the George Inn, Bishop 
Stortford, was charged in the police sheet with conveying 
Richard Medhurst, 13 years of age, away from Old-street, 
St. Luke, in a chaise cart, on the 31st of October last, and 
whose body has since been found in o ditch at East Acton, 
on the 19th of December last, supposed to have been murdered. 
The prisoner is a portly-looking man, with grey hair and a 
ruddy complexion. — George Medhurst, of No. 11, Slade’s-place, 
Clerkenwell, said that the deceased, Richard Medhurst, was his 
son. He worked for Mr. Thirtel), hair curler, of Old-street, St. 
Luke. On the evening of the 31st of October last, at about 
10 minutes before 7 o’clock, ho left his work, with a boy named 
Jackson, and he never saw him afterwards until he saw him dead 
at East Acton, eight weeks ngo. — George Jackson, an intelligent 
boy, 13 years of age, sworn, 6aid be lived at No. 38, Alien- 
street, Clerkenwell. On the evening of the 31st of October, at 
10 minutes before 7 o’clock, lie was walking with Richard Med- 
hurst, the deceased, in Old-street, when the prisoner came up to 
him and said, “Will you mind my horse?” He said, “Yes, 
sir.” The deceased said, “Don’t take liim; take me.” They 
followed the prisoner until they camo to a horse and chaise cart, 
worked with cane at the back. Witness wanted to go, but the 
gentleman said one would do. A boy was then holding the 
horse. The prisoner gave him a penny, saying lie would be that 
way again on the following day — By Mr. Corrie : I have since 
seen a chaise, and I think it is the same. I saw it where the 
gentleman keeps bis horses. — By Mr. Dawkins: I saw a dog- 
cort first, and thought that very like it. I afterwards saw the 
chaise cart, which wns most like the one I sow in Old-street. 
Never saw the gentleman before that night. Did not notice 
whether he wore busby whiskers or mustochios. ne wns n full- 
faced man, with a broad-brimmed bat and low crown. Could 
not say whether it was a Quaker’s bat or a wideawake. He bod 
shiny boots and trousers. Witness told his father that lie should 
know the man again. When Medhurst got into the chaise cart 
the gentleman drove nwny towards Shoreditch. It wns a dark 
night. — John Sleigh left work with the last witness and Richard 
Medhurst. Saw the gentleman drive oft' with him in the cart 
towards Shoreditch. — Mr. Corrie : Do you think you should know 
the man? — Witness: Yes, 6ir. — Mr.Corrie: Then look about and 
see if lie is here. — Witness (pointing at the prisoner) : That is the 
man. The witness contradicted himself in several material points. 
— Sergeant John Gunn, 8 G, said that, from information lie had 
received, lie went with the boy Jackson to Bishop Stortford. 
When they arrived there they entered n public-house, whero lie 
loft the boy, and be proceeded with another man to the George 
Inn, kept by the prisoner. He afterwards sent the man for Jack- 
son. The prisoner came into tlio parlour. Witness said to him, 
“There bos been a boy named Medhurst taken away from Old- 
street, in London, by a man with a horse and chaise; the body 
has since been found dead at East Acton, and this boy says you 
are the man that took him away.” The prisoner looked bard at 
the boy, and the boy at him, nnd'bo said, “ Yes, you are the man.” 
Witness said, “ Wo will search your premises to see if you have 
a horse and chaise cart.” The prisoner called to a man in the 
yard to open the coach-house, and they found a dog cart and a 
chaise cart. Jackson said the dog cart wns most like the one the 
prisoner had on the evening alluded to, but lie would not say 
which. The prisoner said lie had not been to London with the 
dog cart for six months. Witness told him he must come to 
London with him. He sent for bis solicitor. The prisoner then 
put on his great coat, when Jackson said that it was the coat lie 
wore on the day he took Medhurst away. From inquiries since 
made by witness ho had no doubt he would he enabled to produce 
evidence against tlio prisoner if lie was remanded. — Mr. Hawkins 
submitted that there was not sufficient evidence to justify a 
remand. — Mr. Combe hod a private interview with Mr. Super- 
intendent Martin and Sergeant Gunn with reference to the 
inquiries made, and on his return lie said it was a case for further 
inquiry, and lie remanded the prisoner, also refusing to toko boil. 
fmnramu! uni Ihisomt $nttlliptt. 
No. 108, Lodge or Regularity-.— This Lodge met to 
transact their business, consenting to pass two gentle- 
men, and lor the election of W.M. Brother J. Johnson 
wns elected to that office unanimously. After the business 
the brethren sat down to an excellent banquet, which the 
above Lodge stands unrivalled for. The evening was 
enlivened by some excellent harmony, and our excellent 
W.M. Brother W. Johnson did much to promote the 
interest of the craft in general, and especially in the 
superior manner he has carried out his year of office, 
which ought to be noticed in some way deserving of the 
Lodge. 
Southampton. — On St. John’s-day, the annual elections 
of officers of the various Masonic lodges throughout the 
kingdom took place. The following is the list for the 
Phoenix and Portsmouth lodges in this borough : — Phcenix. 
— Br. R. W. Ford, P.M. ; Br. the Rev. Joseph Woolley, 
D.D., W.M. ; Br. Charles Woolvcn, S.W. ; Br. Edward 
Bnldwin, J.W. ; Br. J. M. Shugar, treasurer ; Br. Edwin 
Lowe, secretary ; Br. Alfred Bnlliston, R.N., S.D. ; Br. 
Henry Ford, J.i). ; Br. Captain Agnew, I.G. ; Br. Captain 
Savage, R.M.A , M.C. ; Br. R. W. Bradley, steward ; and 
Br. the Rev. G. Valentine, chaplain. Portsmouth Lodge. 
— Br. Owen, M.D., P.M. ; Br. Thomas Batchelor, W.M. : 
Br. Joseph Bailey, S.W. ; Br. Joseph J. Galt, J.W. ; Br. 
William Cavnnder, treasurer; Br. Stcbbing, secretary; 
Br. J. S. Tibbetts, S.D. ; Br. Mark Frost, J.D. ; Br. 
Cnstell, I.G. ; Brs. Crofts and Ruike, stewards ; Br. Way, 
tyler. The annual triple gathering of tlio United Lodges 
(the Phoenix, Royal Sussex, and Portsmouth) of the 
borough, will be held in the new and elegant room of the 
latter brotherhood in a fortnight, when the annual banquet 
will take place. — Hampshire Advertiser . 
[For further Masonic News, see page 38. j 
^reements. 
DRAMATIC FEUILLETON. 
All about nothing— Drury Lane— Paula Lazarro— The Olympic—" First 
night of a new piece —Princess's. 
It is morning — some time between eleven and one — the 
dramatic critic was late last night, having been kept from 
his bed by the attractions of a light supper of kidneys and 
toasted cheese, at that well-known literary house of call, 
the Smollett Club (sometimes from the quantity of cigars 
smoked therein called the Smell it), up to a late or early 
hour in the night — the solid part of the refection, rendered 
necessary by the exhaustion caused by a severe course of 
pantomimes having been lubricated by a succession of those 
cups which have a decided advantage over those described 
by Cowpev, inasmuch as they not only cheer, but taken in 
sufficient number, inebriate ; it doesn’t, singular to relate, 
snow or rain, the streets are not particularly wet, and there 
isn’t much fog, so that a walk which might dissipate the 
soupgon of a headache appears not only practicable but 
pleasant; the 7'itnes too has to be read, containing an 
attack upon Lord Guildford, and a strong war-like article, 
(according to the fashion of that respectable journal, I 
the two previous numbers having been ns peaceable ns j 
Joseph Sturge or Elihu Burritt,) and a despatch “by 
submarine and electric telegraph," announcing the mas- 
sacre of a few thousand Turks by the Russians, and the 
announcement that the allied fleets are still at anchor 
in Bcycos Bay ; — everything in short conspires to 
make an indolent lounging day pleasant, if not 
profitable. But post equitem sedtt atra curu, and black 
enough, and more than enough both in face and fingers is 
the bore who — announced as “ a young man, sir, wants to 
see you from Brydges-street” — (testily welcomed with 
“ Confound him, send him up ”) — appears in the shape of 
a printer’s boy, gaping for “ copy.” No rest for the wicked, 
I perceive, hut oh those abominable pantomimes! I know 
to my sorrow there are still several left to he anatomized 
by me, but how to do it, as I may say differentially ? how 
make a distinction between this Clown and t’other Clown, 
Harlequin A. and Harlequin B., or the handsome Colum- 
bine at one theatre, and the graceful Columbine at another ? 
"Wherever I go I sec pretty nearly the same thing 
— marks of unearthly hideousness — ballet girls looking for 
the most part (poor things!) as if they were fed upon 
orange-peel and sawdust, whose shoulders and legs make 
one shiver to look at — a spangled body and a painted face, 
jumping through shop- windows — live animals, geese or 
pigs, turned momentarily loose on the stage, a permanently 
hot poker, a transformation scene, all Dutch metal and 
blue fire, in which an inevitable fairy tells somebody to ap- 
pear “ as graceful Columbine,” and somebody else as 
“ ancient Pantaloon,” and a grand finale consisting of still 
more blue fire (red under a liberal manager sometimes) — 
more Dutch metal — the Fairy, surrounded by the Corps de 
ballet, who have changed their dresses during the comic 
business, and the flats at the hack of the stage opening to 
disclose more corps de ballet in fine attitudes, silver tinsel 
dresses, eyes uplifted heavenwards, more Dutch metal, and 
blue fire enough to make the audience sneeze until they are 
half way back to their homes. So, by dint of much pan- 
tomiming I have become almost mazed and besotted, and 
very incapable of making up a story about each individual 
Harlequinade I go to see. As for serious criticism of a 
pantomime, it would he as much out of place as grave 
strictures on the purity of the style of English, to be found 
in the monthly detail of fashions, in the Court Journal or 
the Ladies’ Neirspnper. Besides, with the exception of 
that at the Olympic, which, having been withdrawn, has 
the benefit of the maxim, de morluts, &c., one really has no 
right to abuse (much the easiest kind of writing) any of 
the Christmas pieces, because, if not all good absolutely, 
they certainly are relatively— that is they all seem to draw 
good houses — which is the ro irp error of a management. 
I sigh, however, for the return of comedy, farce, and 
drama — I long to get hack to pieces in one, two, three, or 
five acts, which have a story of their own— something 
that one can understand and relate : not the mystification 
of a nursery story, or one of Mdme. D’Aulnoy’s fairy talcs in 
disguise. Lo ! almost before Twelfth night is past, my 
avator is granted : three new acts at Drury Lane, ami one 
old one— old enough, albeit not forgotten, to he next to 
new — at the Olympic. I will not say, though for many 
reasons I wish I could, that the Drury Lane drama, Paul 
Lazarro, is an exceedingly good piece, or that I think it is 
likely to have a long run. Produced at the Adelphi, and 
backed by all the advantages of the only really complete 
dramatic company in London, and of a management 
which never misses an effect, it would doubtless have had 
far more success, and might have kept its place on the 
bills for a considerable time. At Drury Lane, unluckily for 
the author, the company is not one of the highest efficiency. 
I cannot blame the lessee for this, as I am unable to 
say where, in the present dearth of dramatic talent, 
he could find many useful recruits ; and besides, I dare 
not find fault with a management which has made money 
where speculators on a larger scale have generally de- 
scended from half salaries to the Gazette. I simply state 
a fact — and therefore not capable of helping on a flagging 
story by giving effects to well-written words. The chief 
fault of the drama, to my mind, is that it seems like an old 
acquaintance, recalling memoirs of Minerva press noi’els — 
the “Mendicant of the Alps,” the “ Sicilian Nun,” and 
such like lucubrations of Mrs.Radclyff’s school, which wc rend 
at a time when we had faith in a good many things which 
we shrug our shoulders at now. Mr. Mend, an actor who 
made some reputation at the Surrey theatre, and whose 
admirers, to judge by the reception he got, have followed 
him across the water, plays the chief character of the piece 
— a blind beggar, Gideon Lazarro by name, but who in 
reality is a nobleman, whose family, excepting one daughter 
(Paula, who gives a name to the play) 1ms been murdered 
by the Marrhese Taveio. Gideon "therefore vows inex- 
tinguishable hatred to the Yvhole family of Tavero, leagues 
himself' with robbers for the purpose of carrying out his 
schemes, and carries oft' Juana , a peasant girl, in whom 
the head of the Tavero family imagines that he has found 
a long-lost daughter. It turns out, however, that both 
Gideon and the Marches© have blundered, it being dis- 
covered that Juana is the daughter of the former (which 
puts Gideon in an unpleasant position, inasmuch ns, when 
she is abducted into tlio mountains, Gideon's ally, the I 
Captain of the robbers, expresses a determination to marry 
her, after the fashion of the robber captains, which is not I 
that of Doctor’s Commons), nnd the latter, finding out that 
he mistook the sex of his lost infant, who turns out to he ( 
a certain muleteer, all buttons, snsh, nnd leather bottle, (he 
1 > romesso sposo of Juana. The result is that the brigands 
are dispersed by a body of soldiers, Gideon is shot, one 
daughter, Paula, falls senseless on his body, and the other 
Juana, into the arms of her muleteer. Tableau generate 
— the curtain comes down, and the audience begin to shout 
for “Mead!” 
The Pantomime at the Olympic has vanished from the 
bills, after a short life ami not a merry one. I think the 
manager has herein showed a. sound discretion, for although 
many parts of it were well done, nnd some (the masks 
especially) excellently, it is quite evident it would never 
have drawn an audience. It would appear that to compose 
a good pantomime a man must possess a peculiar 
ldiosyncracy talent, even united with stage experience, 
don t suffice. There’s Nelson Lee — I never saw him in 
my life, but I don t suppose I am doing him an injury in 
not believing him to be a man of first-rate ability— he will 
turn out a dozen pantomimes in a season— they never 
fail, though there are several qualities— good, better, best ; 
you may go to his shop and have which you like, just 
according to the price you are willing to pny. On the 
other hand, some years ago, three of the very wittiest 
writers in London (what Jacob Tonson w ould have called 
“ eminent hands”)— men most conversant with the stn<rp 
too— took it into their heads to write a pantomime. What 
was the result ? It was full of point and fun— jokes had 
been stuffed into it as with a ramrod, enough for three 
such pieces — and the public damned it ? So with Harle- 
quin Columbus : the author is, as a score of successes, till 
now uninterrupted, testify, unexcelled by any dramatic 
writer in the kingdom, and yet — well, ume le succbsl— when 
Nelson Lee dies I hope he will have a tomb in Westminster 
Abbey. I say that I think Mr. Wigan exercised sound 
discretion in withdrawing his pantomime, but there (I am 
about to write most unwillingly, but I will not allow 
private motives to interfere with the duty of telling (lie 
truth) my commendation of his management ends. Mr. 
Wigan has now been at the head of a theatre for more 
than three months ; no man ever started in management 
with fairer prospects — the great public, those of the pit 
and gallery, liked him — those of the stalls and boxes much 
more than liked him. Well known in society, personally 
popular and respected, he might be said to occupy an ex- 
ceptional place among actors, nnd the best writers in 
London, because they felt, or thought, they could fully 
trust to his taste and energy, would not only have been 
proud to write for him, hut would, I firmly believe, have 
exerted themselves more in his favour than in that of al- 
most any othermanager. Whatwas expected from him under 
these most favourable circumstances ? The formation of n 
good and complete company ; a succession of new nnd well 
written pieces, so arranged that immediately on the pro- 
duction of one, another should be instantly put into re- 
hearsal, so that in the possible event of a non-success (a 
failure, with such means at command and so sound a 
judge at the head of the establishment was not feared), 
another farce, drama, or play, might at once succeed. 
Now, what do wc find to be the result of a three months’ 
gestion of the Olympic ? An excellent, but insufficient 
company ; for if Mr. Robson should be run over by n 
cab, or Miss Horton catch a cold, or Mr. Wigan himself 
sprain his ankle, the theatre must he closed. Suppose, 
a piece with an old man’s character in it (the commonest 
of all roles ) who's to play it ? Now, as to the pieces pro- 
duced at this theatre, we have had the “ Camp at the 
Olympic,” a very fair piece de circonstance, but which, being 
merely the prologue to a new management ought to have 
been withdrawn at the end of three weeks or a month. 
Then there was “Plot and Passion,” an excellent play, 
which had success, and deserved it. Then the Pantomime, 
an unlncky accident to which any manager is liable. The?e 
are the novelties we have seen— are there any be- 
hind, in full rehearsal, nnd just ready to be put upon the 
stage ? If there are, I know it not ; but I do know there 
ought to be. Anxious for something that would draw an 
audience, the manager brought out the “Wandering 
Minstrel,” which is a coarse piece and much below the 
standard I hoped to see adopted at the Olympic, 
but I can’t complain much of that, because people 
went to see it, hut I cannot avoid noticing the con- 
fession of weakness made by the production of this 
farce which hud been played for forty or fifty nights only 
a few weeks before under the former management of the 
same theatre. I will say further that it was unfair to Mr. 
Robson to play him in three pieces on the same night, as 
happened for some time together when the evening's per- 
formance consisted of “Plot nnd Passion,” the “Camp, 
and the “ Minstrel.” I very much fear that by a continu- 
ance in the course lie has hitherto pursued, Mr. Wigan 
may lose that which he had more than any other manager 
nnd which, once lost can never be regained— namely, 
prestige. In place of the pantomime, we have now at the 
Olympic the old, but most excellent “First Night of a New 
Piece,” in which Mr. Wigan, as Achilla Talma Dufard, 
plays as well as the original creator of the part, \ ernet, 
ever did. His make up is perfect, and every action, every 
inflection of his voice is exactly consonant to the character 
of the vain, cunning, irritable, affectionate Frenchman. 
The whole thing is a perfect artistic study. One little 
‘ extra ' I would suggest to him to leave out— the wiping 
his daughter’s nose with his own pocket hamlkerchiet. 
Verv probably Vemet did this, but it is rather ‘ strong’ tor 
English ideas. Miss Horton plays 1 de shild ’— of course 
admirnblv (what does she do ill?) — and never was encore 
better merited than that she obtained for hersong. 1 he busi- 
ness of the supposed rehearsal was well arnmged; the mnnnger 
excellent and verv like a real one; and ALss \Vyndlmm 
was exceedingly pretty and well dressed ns TheFothenngag, 
though she missed one or two safe rounds ot applause bv 
not being energetic enough in her ill humour, M'th n 
good, new, two or three act play, and the “ First Night 
to follow, what houses there would he at k the Olympic. 
Sera nunquam est ad bono moses via. — See “Latin 
Grammar." I would have written about the Surrey 
Pantomime this week, but 1 tried twice, and could not 
get into the house either time ! 
" At the Princess's, though the pantonune (to say nothing 
i of “ Hamlet,” which somehow or other, is wonderfully 
liked here) (ills the house nightly, they are hard at work 
getting up, with all sorts of scenic appliances, “ Richard 
the Third.” Charles Kean is really a good manager. 
AnEi.rni. — On Thursday evening, owing to the absence 
of Mr. Webster, who, as it will be seen by our Court In- 
telligence, had then the honour of playing before Her 
Majesty at Windsor, the “Discarded Son” was substituted 
for t)ie"“ Thirst of Gold,” and played to a very full house 
