Riding Thoroughbreds and Donkeys Across Victorian Board Games

Derby Day at Epsom Downs in the 1860sThe launching of contests for three-year-olds  at St. Leger, the Oaks, and Derby in the late 1700s is considered the beginning of the modern sport of horse racing.   Patronized by royalty and the aristocracy, the construction of a national railway grid during Victoria’s reign democratized the sport.  It was run on a Thursday in May or June until 1838, when the event was moved to a Wednesday so more spectators could come via train.   By midcentury, working class Londoners could buy cheap excursion tickets to Epsom Downs in Surrey and the carnival atmosphere around the racecourse was captured in this detail below from John Powell Frith’s famous painting.Detail from William Powell Frith The Derby DayGame board for The Derby DayThe hilarity is shown on a much smaller scale in the board game The Derby Day. There is a large vignette to the lower left of a jockey and his mount and one in the upper right of a saddle.  Examine the center panel carefully and you’ll find a peep-show operator, a man watching the race through a spyglass, a woman slicing a ham for two women holding out empty plates, a man pouring out small glasses of cordial,  a man with mutton chop whiskers placing a bet.  The tracks running down the board’s long edges feature little vignettes of a small menagerie, trick riders, Mr. Punch, and several accidents involving horses and carriages.  The grandstand built in 1838 is visible in the far left—the roof alone had enough seats to accommodate 2000 spectators.Detail of a menagerie from The Derby DayDetail of Mr Punch from The Derby DayVictorians on holiday also flocked to seaside towns with expanses of sand at low tide which offered a perfect site for racing horses and donkeys. Men, women, boys, and girls chased each other down the beach so fast that casual strollers needed to be careful where they were walking.  Like The Derby Day, the central panel shows people enjoying a variety of pleasurable activities: building sandcastles, riding donkeys lead by a sturdy boy, watching a minstrel show, taking advantage of the bathing machines, and stepping into boats for rides.Game board for The Happy SandsGames like these are wrongly described as examples of the omnipresent game of the goose, even though the tracks are not laid out in the telltale snail pattern.  Figures on The Happy Sands board are numbered from one to fifty in a backwards “S,” snaking from the upper left hand corner of the top panel across the center panel, and moving left across the bottom panel to the lower right hand corner.  The board’s layout suggests it is an informational rather than competitive pastime.  The missing “rule” book probably contained descriptions for each numbered figure.  The Derby Day  has tracks numbered from 1 to 70 running up the long edges and without the rule book, there is no way to tell how exactly the game was played.  It was probably issued attached in a folder, also missing.

The artwork for the two playing boards has been attributed to James Widdowfield Barfoot, son of John Richard (1794-1863).  Both exhibited at the Royal Academy and undoubtedly would have preferred to be remembered as painters instead of prolific  designers of illustrations used for board games and jigsaw puzzles.   Most of their work was unsigned, although the telltale presence of roses worked into the design was a calling card for the Barfoots.  Presumably they took the cash without advertising their involvement!Racing on the sand

Making More of the Skelt and Webb Collection of Toy Theater

As a collector, Mr. Cotsen was nothing if not adventurous.  One of his most ambitious purchases was the archive of the publishers of juvenile theater, Skelt and Webb, at auction in the early 1990s.  At well over 300 linear feet, Cotsen’s toy theater collection dwarfs every other notable American institutional collection, such as the Arthur Weyhe Collection in the Billy Rose Theater Division in the Performing Arts Division of the New York Public Library or Ohio State University Lawrence & Lee Theatre Research Institute.

Perhaps the curators of those collections have been releasing explosive sighs of relief for years because they dodged the interesting challenge of figuring out what to do.  The Skelt & Webb collection contains much of the contents the shop owned first by the Skelts and then their successors the Webbs when it finally closed in the early twentieth century (it is said that the member of the Webb family who had been its keeper stowed things under the floor boards, up the chimney, and beneath the beds because the house was so small).

Skelt and Webb Toy Theater Collection. (Cotsen 149996)

The play scripts and prints were the devils we knew being on paper. It was the bundles of heavy metal stamps for the foil used to decorating the cut-out characters, copper plates used to print full-length portraits, sheets of grouped characters, scene drops, almost two hundred lithographic stones for reproducing prosceniums and sets, and tools.  Here’s a detail from a copperplate of a backdrop for Shakespeare’s Othello and a machine whose purpose is still to be determined…The first stage of processing the Skelt and Webb archive was the monumental task of sorting the materials, housing, and photographing as many of the objects as possible before sending them to Princeton’s remote storage.  Cotsen’s redoubtable curatorial assistant Aaron Pickett set the course of steering between mounting a full-fledged digitization project and compiling a conventional finding aid..

Without Aaron’s can-do attitude and a flock of student assistants, the collection would be virtually inaccessible.  This month two of England’s leading experts on the toy theater, Alan Powers and David Powell, are able to take a second deeper dive into Skelt and Webb during their tenure this month as Friends of the Princeton University Library’s Research Grant winners.  Their goal to is rethink the history of the English toy theater using the resources of the Skelt & Webb Collection…

Because they will be going through as much as possible while they are in Princeton, I’ve had a chance to do some exploring in corners I didn’t get see years ago, such as the boxes containing drawings.  There are literally hundreds of them…  Here’s a pencil sketch of  great actor Edmund Kean as Shakespeare’s Richard III and a more finished one of a fight shipboard between an English tar and a dastardly pirate wearing a skirt with a ring of skulls and crossbones around the hem.There are marvelous full-length portraits of characters which I’m longing to identify, like this Roman soldier, the deadly damsel with a tambourine and a dagger, and a sprite in fancy fishy-scale tights.  This summer a cadre of us will be working hard to improve the bare bones record for the collection by adding measurements, names of authors, works, and performers, as well as all the foundational information in the Excel spreadsheets Aaron’s team made which at the time couldn’t be inserted. Already I’ve matched up one drawing with its lithographic print captioned “Bob Cousens Pantaloon!”We’re excited at the prospect of making more marvelous material available for  performers, historians of the genre and of illegitimate theater in general, plus collectors and any other enthusiasts on Cotsen’s digital library module.