Now! Then! A stereotypical comedy Yorkshireman – “heir to a wealthy clothier” – sings during tonight’s Covent Garden première of Thomas Dibdin’s “Family Quarrels”

18 December 1802: A stereotypical comedy Yorkshireman – “heir to a wealthy clothier” – sings during tonight’s Covent Garden première of Thomas Dibdin’s “Family Quarrels”

Thomas Dibdin. 1805. The Yorkshire Man. Family Quarrels. London: Longman, Hurst, Rees, and Orme. Get it:

Excerpt

To London by father I was sent,
Genteeler manners to see,
But fashion’s so dear, – I came back as I went,
And so they got nothing by me.
My kind relations wou’d soon ha’ found out,
What was best wi’ my money to do,
Says I, my dear cousins, I thank you for nought,
But I’m not to be cozen’d by you.
I’m Yorkshire, I’m Yorkshire,
For I am Yorkshire too!

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To facilitate reading, the spelling and punctuation of elderly excerpts have generally been modernised, and distracting excision scars concealed. My selections, translations, and editions are copyright.

Abbreviations

Comment

Family quarrels is a short burlesque on contemporary London and provincial society which, performed garishly, would work splendidly today. However, it has unfortunately fallen prey to (unfounded) accusations of racism for its representation, not of Yorkshiremen, where the charge might, with a determination to be offended, be made to stick; but of Jews, where any reasonable reader will find only satire on English provincial antisemitism and on lower-class religious Judaism. David Conway writes of noisy protests at the first few performances:

The disturbances were provoked by the comedian John Fawcett, in the role of the pedlar Proteus. Proteus disguises himself at one point as ‘Aaron the Jew’, and his song, sung by Fawcett, recounts Aaron’s problems in courting Miss Levi, Miss Rachel and Miss Moses: not, as has been written, ‘three Jewish whores’, but certainly materialist and no shrinking violets. Miss Moses is rejected by Aaron because she takes boxing lessons from her brother, and ‘I shoudn’t like a Vife to knock me down.’ This is all, if anything, rather mild for its time – indeed it is a quite amusing comment on the contemporary prowess of Jewish boxers such as Mendoza – but it provoked cat-calls and demonstrations from Jews in the audience, which subsided after the fourth performance.

Conway goes on to make a convincing case that “the source of the audience’s ire was almost certainly not the words of ‘I Courted Miss Levi’” – as has been suggested carelessly by some scholars as a prelude to allegations of racism – “but its music”:

In each of the three verses the 6/8 jig-like tune of the melody breaks off for a section marked ad lib. in 2/2 time, in which the singer delivers the verse’s punch-line, (literally such in the present case). But the notes for this section exactly represent the rhythms and cadence commonly used in the synagogue prayer, the Kaddish (Conway 2012).

Dibdin quotes the following review “from a writer in the Oracle“:

I was present on the first night of Family Quarrels, and hasten to denounce the conduct of those who disgraced themselves by as groundless an opposition as ever disturbed an audience: it was a frivolous and ill-founded opposition, calculated to the prejudice and overthrow of the stage. The natives of Yorkshire had as good right to remonstrate against the liberties taken with them through the medium of the character (performed by Emery) named Mushroom. If this degree of affected delicacy be justifiable, we ought soon to expect remonstrances from Scotland, Ireland, and every part of England against jokes passed on them by poets of all ages: John Bull treats such squeamish notions with contempt, and will never, to gratify individual prejudice, combine against the freedom of the stage. The opposition to this new opera was therefore frivolous and vexatious to the pit.

And comments:

How far the theatre profited by the piece, may be gathered from my share of its produce, which was contingent, and which (including my sale of ten-penny song-books) amounted to about six hundred and thirty pounds [£49K in November 2022] (Dibdin 1827).

A vocal score of this simple jig is included in an anthology published roughly a century later, accomapanied by the following comments from co-editor Frank Kidson, a Leeds folksong collector:

Had Thomas Dibdin been a Yorkshireman he would have used the word “beck” for “brook” in the song we select; otherwise the dialect is not greatly at fault (Dibdin 1907).

Where can I find the rest of the music? The British Library holds something called Songs, Duets, Chorusses, &c. in the new comic opera, called Family Quarrels (London: Barker & Son, 1803), but I don’t live in London and can’t see it elsewhere.

Here is the entire passage in Dibdin’s autobiography dealing with Family quarrels:

Mr. Harris had intended that my opera of Family Quarrels” should appear very early in the season, but the continued attraction of ” the Cabinet” rendered a change unnecessary; and it was not till the 18th of December this public event, so interesting to Jews as well as Christians, was permitted to take place. If I encountered a few difficulties, during the rehearsals of “the Cabinet,” in suiting the performers with songs which I had written, or intended to write, as naturally (if any thing in the form of an opera can be natural) emanating from the dialogue and incidents of the piece, so as to form regular component parts, and harmonise with the general tone of the picture I wished to paint; if, I say, a few obstacles seemed to militate against my plan while preparing “the Cabinet;”-they were doubled and trebled in the present instance, so as almost to make me despair,-not of retaining the original outline of the piece, which had been highly approved by Mr. Harris,-but of bringing it before the public in any shape at all. Yet to have withdrawn it, would have been to sacrifice above half my year’s income, when I had not only my own immediate family, but nearly three hundred a year’s worth of relations to support; and to have offended my second father, (as I shall ever consider Mr. Harris,) and injure all my future interests. Suffice it to say, I wrote three-andtwenty different songs, &c. in exchange for those which were first intended; each requiring some trifling alteration in the drama by way of introduction, and each alteration diverging a line or two from the construction of my fable. With respect to criticism, then, I was placed on the forlorn hope, and fully considered my once promising progeny as an enfant perdu; when, as if to give a finishing blow to the little hope which lay at the bottom of my Pandora’s box, Mr. Fawcett, with the best possible intention as to aiding the effect of the piece, suggested, without (as many had done) making it a sine qua non, that I should write him a song, something in the style of my father’s excellent comic ballad, called “the Ladies ;” and moreover that my ladies, instead of being “Prides of Aurora,” “Floras de Guzman,” &c. &c. &c. should all be beauties of the Jewish persuasion. Thus circumscribed, what was I to do? Heaven knows that I, who had written and even played Abednego in “the Jew and the Doctor,” and Ephraim in the “School for Prejudice,” with no trifling applause from the critics of Whitechapel, Duke’s-place, and Russell-court, never entertained, as Fribble says, “the minutest atom of an idea” that the harmless joke, as harmlessly suggested, could be taken as the most distant intention of giving offence. God help me, if all the attorneys I have publicly laughed at, and (as I hope to prosper) mean to laugh at again, should think proper to rise in a body, and do still more than many have done to crush me! Or what would become of my future health or that of my family, who have borne and do suffer so much from illness, if every M.D. or apothecary were to resent the nonsensical clap-traps I have coined to produce the only cash out of which I was to pay their bills: but the twelve tribes were mistaken; and as all their efforts did not eventually effect the intended destruction of my piece, I freely forgive them, as I hope and trust those who even really believed I was wrong, have long since forgiven me: but to the fact.

At the first rehearsal of the song, with a full band on the stage, all seemed electrified in its favour; and even the orchestral sons of the pipe and string laid down their reeds and fiddles to applaud it: next day, however, a lady of the Hebrew race from Rochester, who for years had entertained great friendship for us, called, and assured me that a complete and general feeling prevailed all over the eastern districts, that I intended to insult her whole nation by a scurrilous song, written pointedly, (I was glad to hear that acknowledged,) and purposely in ridicule and dispraise of (what all who know me, know I worship à la folie) the female part of it. I indignantly disclaimed such an idea, and exhibited a copy of the fatal song: the lady professed herself convinced, but left us, as she said, with pain, equally convinced that nothing but omitting the song would ensure the opera from certain perdition. I immediately waited on Mr. Harris, who bade me be of good cheer, but by no means to think of withdrawing the song; particularly as Mr. Fawcett declared he was by no means afraid to sing it. Mr. Harris added, that he hardly ever brought out a piece at any period, without its being preceded by anonymous threats; and my staunch friend Lewis said, “If there really be a conspiracy against the opera, that conspiracy will be the making of it: for I don’t think a London audience ever errs in its judgment, and am quite sure they will never suffer any party, however numerous, to wrest their right of judgment from them.”

Under these impressions we took the field, nine-tenths of the theatre laughing at our apprehensions. The enemy came, however, in great force, and by too early a manifestation of hostility put the unprejudiced part of the audience completely on their guard. Before the first song, a predetermination of opposition was alarmingly evident; and in allusion to a purchase I was then completing, a skirmishing corps of hostile sharp-shooters in the gallery began to cry, as a signal for the general charge, “It vont do! it vont do, I tell you! take it avay! take it to Sadler’s Vells!” The impending thunder grumbled, and subsided, and grumbled again, till the appearance of Fawcett in his “Jewish gaberdine” proved the chosen moment for commencing an uproar, which, but for the subsequent O. P. row, of noisy memory, would never have been equalled. The song was sung and encored, but not heard, nor was any of the following part of the opera, or the words in which it was announced for repetition. We were all, more or less, in consternation: Messrs. Harris and Lewis still encouraged me; and the former advised a few lines in next morning’s bill, disclaiming all intention to offend individuals, yet by no means to think of sacrificing the song. Many of the nobility and gentlemen, among my old patrons, and even some distinguished members of the Royal Family, encouraged me in the hope the public would see me safe through.

The head and front of the ensuing play-bill bore the following inscription, which had been resolved on at the board of the manager’s privy council:

“The author of the new opera, with implicit deference, assures the public, he never entertained the remotest idea of giving offence to any class of society, by the introduction of a character, which was not that of a Jew, but an assumed disguise, and which, had there been no interruption arising from misconception, would have appeared as no more intended to convey disrespect, than were either the parts of Ephraim in ‘the School for Prejudice,’ or Abednego in ‘the Jew and Doctor,’ which have hitherto been honoured with the most flattering and general approbation.”

The newspapers were unanimous in censuring this partial attack on the piece; and a leading one asserted, in almost Mr. Lewis’s former words, that such conduct would make a much worse opera succeed. The opposition was scarcely less on the second representation; and it may be curious to compare one or two instances of conflicting accounts given on the following morning:

Times, Dec. 21st, 1802.
“The new opera of ‘Family Quarrels,’ performed for the second time yesterday evening, attracted an overflowing audience in every part of the house. Several judicious alterations have been made, and the piece, in its present state, promises to be as popular as any production of the same author. In the second act, some confusion was occasioned by a general call for Fawcett’s song, descriptive of the charms of the Misses Abrahams, Levi, and Moses, which was encored on Saturday evening: the audience being informed the song did not belong to that part of the opera, tranquillity was restored; and upon Fawcett’s appearance, he begged their indulgence not to sing it, from the feelings with which he was personally influenced. The appeal was received with general plaudits: the encores were as numerous as on the first night; and several scenes, which were then but indistinctly heard, proved very considerable additions to the interest of the opera: among them we remarked the escape of the lovers, which forms a leading feature in the connection of the incidents.”

Morning Herald, same day.
“‘Family Quarrels’ was repeated last night to an overflowing audience: several alterations have been made; and the piece, on the whole, considerably improved. The passage which, on the first night, gave offence to the Jews, has been omitted (this was not the case); and in its present state, though it may not rank very high as a literary production, it possesses sufficient harmony of parts to be entitled to the approbation of the public. Fawcett’s Jew’s song was encored by a great majority of the audience; but the opposition was very strong: no further interruption took place, and the conclusion was more successful than that of the first representation.”

Morning Post.
“‘Family Quarrels’ was last night repeated, to the high satisfaction of as crowded an audience as the house could contain. By the prudence and facility with which the passages that gave offence to the Jews had been removed, (a well-intended error of the press,) the opposition of Saturday appeared to be now entirely reconciled to its success: frequent bursts of applause were interrupted by no murmur of disapprobation. In the second act, a part of the audience, suspicious that the pleasing humorous song of the Jew pedler’s Ballad of Mistresses was about to be left out, called for it with no small impatience and clamour: they were appeased, by information from the stage, that its place was in the third act, when it was heard with that gay and lively satisfaction which the humour both of the poetry and the music is well fitted to excite; but its encore was too much for the patience of those by whom a part of its ridicule had not been well relished on Saturday: others demanded repetition. Fawcett complied, but, amid the contention, retired; then returning, entreated, as a favour to himself personally, they would excuse his imperfect recollection, which made him really unable to repeat the song. The contention was then entirely hushed; the opera proceeded to its close with every mark of general approbation; and nothing but plaudits was heard when it was announced for a third representation.”

British Press.-Mr. T. Dibdin’s new opera. Fourth night.
“It was reported in the morning, that many Jews of the lower class had formed themselves into a regular phalanx, and were to renew their opposition, under the direction of the ass, whose cruel brayings were so successfully exerted the first night. No such occurrence, however, took place. ‘Family Quarrels’ were suffered to proceed in peace: the pedler’s song, in which he gives such a diverting account of his mistresses charms, and his own disappointments, was encored amidst the loudest bursts of applause, and without the slightest murmur of disapprobation.”

In conclusion, the following short extracts are from a writer in the Oracle:-

“I was present on the first night of Family Quarrels,’ and hasten to denounce the conduct of those who disgraced themselves by as groundless an opposition as ever disturbed an audience: it was a frivolous and ill-founded opposition, calculated to the prejudice and overthrow of the stage. The natives of Yorkshire had as good right to remonstrate against the liberties taken with them through the medium of the character (performed by Emery) named Mushroom. If this degree of affected delicacy be justifiable, we ought soon to expect remonstrances from Scotland, Ireland, and every part of England against jokes passed on them by poets of all ages: John Bull treats such squeamish notions with contempt, and will never, to gratify individual prejudice, combine against the freedom of the stage. The opposition to this new opera was therefore frivolous and vexatious to the pit.”
Richardson’s Hotel, Covent-Garden.

How far the theatre profited by the piece, may be gathered from my share of its produce, which was contingent, and which (including my sale of ten-penny song-books) amounted to about six hundred and thirty pounds.
(Dibdin 1827)

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Original

By t’side of a brig stands over a brook,
I was sent betimes to school;
I went wi’ the stream as I studied ma book,
And was thought to be no small fool.
I never yet bought a pig in a poke,
For to give Old Nick his due,
Tho’ oft I’ve dealt wi’ Yorkshire folk,
Yet I was Yorkshire too.
Was Yorkshire, was Yorkshire,
Yet I was Yorkshire too!

I was pratty weel lik’d by each country maid,
At races, wake, or fair,
For my father had addled a vast in trade,
And I were his son to a hair.
And seeing that I didn’t want for brass,
Poor girls came first to woo,
But tho’ I delight in a Yorkshire lass,
Yet I were Yorkshire too.
Be Yorkshire, be Yorkshire,
Yet I were Yorkshire too!