Annie Oakley Scrapbook

The Sporting Life,

TUESDAY, MAY 10.

THE AMERICAN EXHIBITION AND THE WILD WEST.

(By our Roving Correspondent.)

Our American Cousins are fortunate. Sunny skies and balmy breezes prevailed yesterday, and all the World and his wife, or, perhaps, it would be more correct to say, all London and his Spouse, flocked to West Brompton to assist at the opening of the great Exhibition, which, in addition to exploiting the exhibits of Columbia, shows us a real presentment of life in the "Wild West," than which there is probably no field in American history more fascinating in the intensity of its interest. As may be expected from so vast an undertaking, the exhibition per se is at present incomplete, which, however, is a family failing with exhibitions on their opening. Still, much advancement had been made since our last visit. The Picture Gallery is yet in rather a chaotic state. Several of the pictures which have been hung are of distinct interest. They are chiefly landscapes showing the bold and lofty configuration of the vast mountainous districts of the wide continent. A group of seven stuffed buffaloes at the entrance of the Exhibition, which, we were informed, had been loaned by the Wild West Company, gave what musicians would describe a preliminary tone colour to the Exposition. In the Exhibition proper the only things that caught our notice were the American Organ, which is very much in evidence; an elaborate stall for the vending of the "Imperial Hair Regenerator," and an inscription on a vacant "pitch," which relates that "This space will be occupied in a few days by a Household Ice Machine, and a steam Feather Roller." The dentist also has an elaborate show, though we looked in vain for the oculist. We must admit being disappointed in this regard, and to our mind at all events the "eye for eye and tooth for tooth" tradition will ever remain a fiction. The luncheon, however, we are glad to say, was a grand reality. The Perrier Jouet was invigorating, and the comestibles (thanks to Messrs. Bertram and Roberts) were all "very fine and large." Though, thanks to our customary procrastination, and some lazy omnibus cattle, we were somewhat late in arriving, and had some difficulty in finding a seat, yet when once fairly settled in our stride we gave the Homard au Naturel jip, and the "Saumon a la Chambord" fits. The "Jambon de York" was a trifle off, but the Pate de Gibier and the Pate de Pigeon made ample amends, and, having leavened the whole with a few pounds of pressed beef, a Brobdignagian salad, and a few tumblers of the merry French wine, we felt fit and well, and adjourned to witness the opening ceremony. The arrangements for the opening ceremony might have been improved on, though perhaps we might accepts this little arrangement as a specimen of American humour. Certainly the denizen of Fleet street in search of information resembled the Dove from the Ark, inasmuch as he found no place to rest on. Inquiries were fruitless, and though a stand in the centre of the building was bravely stormed by these persevering and long-suffering individuals, it was merely an ephemeral success, as they were immediately dispossessed from their coign of 'vantage, and immediately dispersed with a landable unanimity to the various abodes of bliss, beauty, and booze, which have been erected under the fostering care of Messrs. Bertram and Roberts. The exhibition was declared open at half-past three. "Hail, Columbia!" was played, then the National Anthem, and after vociferous cheering, Colonel Henry S. Russell spoke as follows:—

As President of the exhibition, and as an American who, with others, has worked hard to bring this day to a successful issue, I proclaim it now to be opened; and let us all hope that it may prove another strong link in that chain—sometimes strained, but never to be broken—which binds the United States to Old England, the child of its mother, to whom it owes the very traits of character which have made this day possible.

A great rush was then made for the Wild West, and the vast covered amphiteatre was speedily occupied by a fasionable and distinguished throng, in which were easily recognisable persons of light and leading, and the world of Art, Science, and Society. The various incidents of the Wild West were heralded and described by an orator in a sort of judge's box, erected just inside the track, and facing the centre of the amphitheatre, sacred to hyper-gentility. The first feature was the Grand Processional Review, and the introduction of individual celebrities, groups, &c. The Indians, Cowboys, and Vacqueros appeared from behind their panoramic rookeries in squads, and, galloping wildly around the course, wheeled up suddenly [before?] the centre of the amphitheatre.

"The Pony Express

Was not a success."

[At?] all events, the gentleman conveying the mails [dropped?] his bag in changing horses. This was merely the result of want of practice. The idea of the Frontier Mail Pony Express being well illustrated. The attack on an emigrant waggon, by a whooping party of Indians in full war-paint, was very exciting. Having surprised the primitive convoy, which could only offer a feeble resistance, they were in their turn attacked by a party of frontiersmen, who, after a prodigious cracking of rifles and pistols, and careering of steeds, eventually drove the ruddy warriors from the field. A very dexterous exposition of wing shooting was then given by Miss Annie Oakley—a very prepossessing young lady—followed by an exhibition of Cowboys' fun. The mounting and riding of the bucking horses tickled the vast gathering of spectators immensely. "Indigestion" and "Dynamite" particularly proved very obstinate, the latter lying down when an attempt was made to mount him. Buck Taylor, whom Providence has gifted with enormously long legs, and whose stature is 6ft. 4in., picked up a handkerchief and then his sombrero from the ground while riding at full speed. This equine feat inspired our privileged and particular poet, who had just arrived, and he immediately broke out badly with the appended unique effort;—

The Cowboy King, Buck Taylor,

Is quite an equine Nailer;

What man dare he will dare O,

Picks up his wide Sombrero,

From the ground

While at full bound

His steed away does tear O!

The attack on the Deadwood Coach is, perhaps, the most stirring event of the programme. One does not need the assurances of Mr. Cody to believe that it is the old original coach. It is merely an ancient dilapidated framework, but as the orator, Frank Richmond, remarked, "it occupies an historical place in American history, having been baptized in fire and blood!" There was only one passenger who reclined on the crazy summit of the vehicle. The orator announced him as John Nelson, the husband of a Red Indian princess, and the proud progenitor of a numerous semi-royal family. He was also understood to say that John Nelson had guided Brigham Young on his first trip to Salt Lake City. Mr. Nelson rather took our fancy. He somewhat resembles Charles Peace (Honi Soit!), and his Indian appelation is "Cha-Sha-Sha-na-po-ge-o." Captain Fred. Matthews, who manipulated the ribbons, is a man who all his life "has been thar" on the overland and other routes, passing through every stage, and gaining a reputation in the West second to none, and equalling his old friend and compatriot, "Hank Monk."

Several distinguished passengers, including one or two Fleet-street Pressmen, having entered the coach, Mr. Richmond gave us to understand that the ancient vehicle would be attacked by a band of fierce and warlike Indians, who in their turn would be repulsed by scouts and cowboys. This proved true to the letter, the battle being almost a repetition of the attack on the emigrant train. Why the Cowboy Band (which, by the way, is a very good one) should play "Garry Owen" during the exciting melee is a Jubilee conundrum. The phases of Indian life, including scalp, war, and other dances, were to a man of peace grotesque, not to say revolting; and as we never allow the sun to go down (or for that matter arise) on our wrath, we sought, with the Rhymist, the peaceful seclusion of Miss Annie Oakley's tent, where we imbibed in various American juices of choice and agreeable flavour. The genuine buffalo hunt, which we returned in time to see, was not too exciting. In fact the noble bison seemed off colour. He was distinctly lethargic, and when opportunity offered made a bee-line for his Corral with a celerity which commanded our admiration and sympathy. The Buffalo is a noble quadruped, with a perennial hump, like ourselves, and we do not like to see him annoyed. The throwing of the lariat, and the roping and riding (!) (I quote the programme) of wild Texas steers were amongst the most expert and interesting features of the show, and certainly creates the greatest amusement. The final item on the programme was an attack on a settler's cabin by hostile Indians, and their repulse by Cowboys under Buffalo Bill. The latter's marvellous equine ability and skill with the rifle gave our Rhymist (who is a person of imperishable genius), the divine afflatus very badly. Here are the lines to

The Hon. W. F. Cody

(With our Rhymist's Compliments).

A wonderful man is Buffalo Bill,

He rides like Bil

Ly, with great agil

Ity, yet still

He has never a spill.

As a shootist, Bill

Has wonderful skill.

Each shot's a kill.

With marked viril

Ity and will.

A wonderful man is Buffalo Bill.

In conclusion it may be said that the opening of the Wild West Show was one of the most signal successes of recent years. Such a vast concourse of the cream—or it may be as well to say the creme de la creme—of society is seldom seen at any function. The number of chariots waiting at the gates outnumbered those of Pharaoh, and the phalanx of footmen constituted quite a small army. There is much in the Wild West show to please. There is novelty of incident, wonderful tone, colour, dexterous horsemanship, and a breezy independence of manner, which latter quality, by the way, is not entirely confined to the dramatis personae.

Of the exhibition, which is at present in an incomplete state, we must defer criticism. The switch-back railway, and the toboggan slide, were regarded with a degree of suspicion which is perhaps pardonable, by the curious, but wary Britisher. Familiarity will no doubt breed contempt of danger—at least, that is the rhymists' opinion. Upon enquiring whether he thought the British public would take kindly to the slide, he placed his taper finger to the side of his Bardolphian proboscis and answered, "Slidely!"

THE PEOPLE, SUNDAY

MAY 22, 1887.

GENERAL CHATTER.

The Buffalo Bille furore is becoming ridiculous. Colonel Cody is, no doubt, an eminent man in his way, and for bossing a show even the great Barnum in his best days could not surpass him. But are these credentials sufficient to justify an outburst of fashionable fetish worship? London society should remember the shame which subsequently fell upon it for its adoration of that black miscreant, Cetewayo. On the whole, I cannot but consider it a mistake for Lord Charles Beresford to have given the Yankee showman a mount on the box-seat of his drag at the Coaching Club meet. Noblesse oblige; there is a want of congruity in the companionship of an illustrious British officer who fills and important position in the Government with a gentleman chiefly famed as an adriot scalper of Red Indians. I do not blame Buffalo Bill; my censure is confined to the fashionable throng who pay their devotions at such a shrine.

The Evening News

AND TELEPHONE.

TUESDAY, MAY 10, 1887.

AT THE YANKEERIES .

[By A Sightseer.]

In spite of his intense Republicanism, Brother Jonathan was favoured with "Queen's weather" yesterday for the opening of his exhibition; and, as a natural consequence, all the world and his wife were there. Now if anybody travelled to Earl's Court in the delusive hope of seeing an exhibition of American arts, products, and discoveries, disappointment awaited that person at the end of his journey. The main building in which the exhibition is to be held was a mass of chaotio confusion. Stalls half erected, others built but empty, with here and there a meagre exhibit, were the order of the day. But this is a matter that will be remedied before the end of the week, and as nearly every one went yesterday to have a look at the Wild West Show, this delay in fixing up the more serious parts of the business didn't so very much matter.

The crush, and fight, and struggle amongst both quadrupeds and bipeds to reach the gates of the Yankeeries, was, for some hours, something terrific. The block in the vehicular traffic actually commenced at South Kensington Railway Station, and all along the Old Brompton-road was a mass of crawling carraiges of every description. Indeed, the side-walk (to use an expression consistent with the day) was just as bad for pedestrians. How and when I got there, I should not like to have to state on oath; but, once there, I felt amply repaid for all my heroic struggles.

The opening ceremony was about as lacking in liveliness as such events invariably are. I am afraid there was precious little attention paid to the addresses, or to the consecration prayer; but Madame, Nordica's singing of "The Star-spangled Banner" and "Rule Britannia," brought down the house. Then there was a rush for the amphitheatre overlooking the Wild West Show. I had a quiet chuckle to myself that I should be among the first to arrive at this spot for which every one was making. But, to my astonishment, I found that some eight or ten thousand people had been smart enough to secure some of the best seats fully an hour before.

By the time that Mr. Frank Richmond, the orator of the show, had mounted his rostrum, the vast amphitheatre, capable of seating 20,000 people, was as tightly packed as a sardine-box or the dormitory of a Doncaster lodging-house in Leger week. I must say that Mr. Richmond, describing the various events in the show, is the right man in the right place. He has a voice of marvellous resonance and distinctness, and a very copious command of language.

The Wild West Show, in my humble opinion, is a big success from the beginning to end. Of course there are some people who will decline to subscribe to this dictum. One of them sat near me yesterday. He knew much better than the performers how everything ought to have been done, and was as prolific of suggestion as he was void of modesty. He was one of those individuals who would cheerfully undertake to rearrange the whole scheme of creation, and to find room for improvement in everything but himself.

The most notableof the many clever and interesting items in Buffalo Bill's programme, were the splendid marksmanship of Miss Annie Oakley, Miss Lilian Smith, and Bill himself, the first-mentioned lady being far and away the best of the three; the skilful feats of the cowboys with bucking horses and cattle; and the skirmishes between the "noble red-men," and their pale-faced enemies. In the "show," of course, the poor Indian always gets the worst of the scrimmage, which, by the way, is a healthy and pleasant change (for the white man) from what generally used to happen in real life.

I must confess that I should not care to be pounced upon by the red-skin in his native wilds. He looks very picturesque at Earl's Court, and is most affable in his wigwam. I hope, if Providence should ever ordain that I meet him "nearer home," he will retain those amiable qualities. But if he is on the war-path I solemnly promise not to intrude, knowingly, upon the sanctity of his martial enthusiasm. I can't say more than that.

I must congratulate the Hon. W. F. Cody upon his scenic arrangements, which are wonderfully effective. I am afraid that even the mighty-of-resource, Augustus Druriolanus, would be hard pushed to beat Buffalo Bill on these lines. I do not know the name of the artist who fixed up the scenery yesterday, but he certainly imparts a remarkably good idea of wildness and distance to the surroundings.

At the termination of the programme I had a nice cosy chat with Red Shirt in his wigwam. This grand specimen of an Indian chief was good enough to assure me through his interpreter that whenever I chose to visit the village, I was to consider his wigwam my home. I was not a little surprised to learn from another source that two of the tribes now at Earl's Court are bitterly hostile to each other when "at home," and that they are bound by a stringent treaty of peace to live amicably whilst they are with Buffalo Bill. They will probably make up for the time lost in enforced politeness directly they set foot upon their native soil again, and will do their level best to make things lively for each other.

I was also honoured with a long and pleasant conversation with Miss Annie Oakley in her tent. This champion shot is as amiable as she is clever, and I don't think I can pay her a higher compliment than that. Her shooting record is quite phenomenal, and her countrymen are justly proud of her; but all their petting and enthusiasm have failed to spoil her. She is as popular with the other members of the company, of all colours, as her performaces have made her with the general public.

I waited to see the extensive grounds of the Exhibition lighted up, and the effect was most charming. The grounds are tastefully laid out, and, when illuminated, look like a choice bit cut out of a fairy scene. The band of the Grenadier Guards discoursed sweet sounds until nearly ten o'clock, when I left, heartily pleased with my first experience of the Yankeeries.

REYNOLDS'S NEWSPAPER.

SUNDAY, MAY 15.

SUNDAY'S EDITION.

After some very clever shooting by Miss Annie Oakley, who seems to be a feminine Dr. Carver, and illustrations of "cowboys' fun" in throwing the lariat, and picking up objects from the ground while riding at full speed, the audience were treated to a spectacle of some very clever riding, several members of Buffalo Bill's troupe mounting bucking horses and ponies, which dash about in a manner which threatened to dislocate their own backbones, and much more to injure anyone who dared to try to ride them. In almost every case, however, the cowboys were successful in mastering their steeds. More rifle shoot ings by Miss Lilian Smith, and horseback riding by American frontier girls, led up to the attack on the Deadwood stage coach by Indians, and their repulse by vowboys commanded by Buffalo Bill. This was very mych a repetition of the previous part of the programme, the attack on an emigrant train. The Deadwood coach, with its solid india-rubber springs and ancient woodwork, was drawn rapidly along the ring by its team of mules. Suddenly the Indians appear on the horizon, and with a wild war-whoop bear down upon it. The passengers in the coach respond vigorously with their revolvers, and in the end Buffalo Bill and his followers give a good account of themselves, and the Indians are obliged to sheer off. The warfare, as in the previous contest, hurts nobody, and it was quite amusing to see the attackers and attacked galloping off in such happy guise. A race between Sioux Indian boys on bare backed Indian ponies, and another between Mexican thoroughbreds, were followed by an illustration of the phases of Indian life. As the nomadic tribes were seen camped on the prairie, an attack by hostile Indians was made, and this was followed by a scalp, war, and other dances. The latter were novel, if not musical nor particularly picturesque. Buffalo Bill, "America's pratical all-round shot," then gave an exhibition of roping and riding of wild Texas steeds by cowboys and Mexicans. The latter, however, ap peared to be a little cruel, and was not quite so suc cessful as the other parts of the entertainment. After an illistration of the buffalo hunt came an attack upon a settler's cabin by hostile redskins, which was id to a degree.

THE DAILY TELEGRAPH

Yesterday morning the Prince of Wales visited the American Exhibition and "Wild West" at eleven o'clock. The party drove directly into the arena, and alighted in front of the Royal box. Among those pre sent were the Prince and Princess of Wales, the King of Saxony, the King of Denmark, King of Greece, Crown Prince of Sweden and Norway, the Crown Prince Rudolf of Austria-Hungary, the Hereditary Prince and Princess of Saxe-Meiningen, Princess Victoria of Prussia, Prince George of Greece, the Duke of Sparta, Prince Albert Victor of Wales, Prince George of Wales, Princesses Victoria and Maud of Wales, Prince Louis of Baden, and Ladies and Gentlemen in Waiting. A full performance was given, and the Princess of Wales, Prince Albert Victor, the Kind of Denmark, Prince George of Wales, and the Crown Prince of Sweden and Norway entered the Deadwood coach.