The Invention of Murder: How the Victorians Revelled in Death and Detection and Created Modern Crime. Judith Flanders. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Judith Flanders
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Историческая литература
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780007352470
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on, steal].

      My noble father as I’ve heard say

      Was a famous merchant of capers gay.

      Nix my dolly, palls [Nothing, friends], fake away.

      The knucks in quod [thieves in prison] did my school-men play

      And put me up to the time of day.

      Fake away.

      No dummy hunter had forks so fly [pickpocket had fingers so nimble]

      No knuckler so deftly could fake a cly [pick a pocket]

      Nix my dolly, palls, fake away.

      But my nuttiest lady one fine day

      To the beaks did her gentleman betray.

      Fake away.

      And thus was I bowled out at last,

      And into the Jug for a lag was cast [and was sent to prison].

      Nix my dolly, palls, fake away.

      But I slipp’d my darbies [fetters] one morn in May

      And gave to the dubsman [turnkey] a holiday.

      Fake away.

      And here I am, palls, merry and free,

      A regular rollocking Romany.

      Nix my dolly, palls, fake away.

      In 1835 Rookwood was adapted for Astley’s Amphitheatre, which specialized in staging hippodramas – spectaculars with vast numbers of horses, riders and extras. It was retitled Turpin’s Ride to York and the Death of Black Bess, taking the element that people had enjoyed the most. (It is notable, two years after Cold Bath Field, that Black Bess no longer dies of exhaustion after her epic journey, but is shot by the wicked Bow Street Runners.)

      Some critics left Dickens out of their discussions of Newgate novels, which were condemned for portraying criminals sympathetically. As the Edinburgh Review summed up, Dickens ‘never endeavours to mislead our sympathies – to pervert plain notions of right and wrong – to make vice interesting in our eyes. We find no. creatures blending with their crimes the most incongruous and romantic virtues.’ This praise of Dickens was, very obviously, also a poke at Bulwer. Punch magazine, too, condemned Newgate fiction in its drawing of ‘The Literary Gentleman’ surrounded by thoughts of ‘Murder’, ‘Gallows heroism’, ‘Burglary’ and ‘Robbery’. On his desk is a dagger, a gallows, a broadside printed with a ‘Dying Speech’, a copy of the Newgate Calendar and another of the Annals of Crime. The verse that follows mocks:

      … you, great scribe, more greedy of renown,

      From Hounslow’s gibbet drag a hero down.

      Embue his mind with virtue; make him quote

      Bulwer was a punchbag for everyone. For now Eugene Aram’s name – even without reference to Bulwer – was being used for anything, even a toothache cure. This advertisement appeared regularly in both the London and the provincial papers, making a segue from a murderer to a patent medicine seem bizarrely normal:

      EUGENE ARAM. – It will be in the recollection of most of our readers that after the murder of Daniel Clarke, Eugene Aram resided many years at Lynn, in Norfolk, in fancied security and seclusion. – Sweeting’s Tooth Ache Elixir has also found its way to the same place. In the advertisement in another part of this paper respecting this deservingly popular medicine, will be found a letter from the agent at Lynn, from which we may conclude that while it is giving peace and ease from pain to many, yet (like Eugene Aram), it will not be allowed any rest for itself.

      There were probably many dozens of productions like this, and in 1859 the Lord Chamberlain decided that enough was enough. Jack Sheppard was considered to be the worst offender: Oliver Twist, after all, featured a middle-class child who didn’t want to be a thief, while Eugene Aram was a gentrified, remorseful murderer. Sheppard was working-class and repeatedly escaped from gaol, thumbing his nose at authority. All stage productions of Jack Sheppard were therefore banned, apart from the one that had first been licensed. Not coincidentally, this version had originated in the West End, where the respectable middle-class audience could be counted on not to take away an inappropriately immoral lesson. Yet the Oliver Twist productions, at least the non-West End versions, perhaps did not have the moral content the Lord Chamberlain assumed. The manager of the Gaiety Theatre remembered seeing Oliver Twist at the Victoria in the 1840s: ‘Nancy was always dragged round the stage by her hair, and after this effort Sikes always looked up defiantly at the gallery. He was always answered by one loud and fearful curse, yelled by the whole mass. Finally when Sikes, working up to a well-rehearsed climax, smeared Nancy with red-ochre, and taking her by the hair (a most powerful wig) seemed to dash her brains out on the stage. A thousand enraged voices, which sounded like ten thousand. filled the theatre.’