Review

“The Gentleman in Black”
The Morning Post May 27, 1870, p. 3

At the Charing-cross Theatre last evening the first performance of an operetta or musical legend with the above title was produced. The story and dialogue by Mr. W. S. Gilbert is exceedingly clever, and the music by Mr. Frederic Clay may be classed among his happiest efforts. The literary and musical partnership which brought forward the exceedingly clever little operetta “Ages Ago,”' now nightly delighting audiences at the Gallery of Illustration, has been again productive of a work in which wit, humour, original melody, scholarlike harmony, and clever instrumentation have been joined together with the most successful result.

The incidents of the plot are perfectly new, and show a very clever and fertile invention. A young farmer, Hans Gopp (Miss Fowler) is about to marry the belle of the village, Bertha (Madame Emmeline Cole), who, on the road to join her lover, meets with a gentleman who is exceedingly repulsive in appearance, and who, like most ugly people, is very fascinating; for, despite the fact that is hair is red, his taste in dress detestable, his eyes small and very green, and he has upon his face a series of fiery nobs that would serve as admirable hat-pegs, yet no woman can resist his power. He proves to be the Baron Otto von Schlachenstein (Mr. E. Danvers), and, attended by his steward, Grumpff (Mr. W. M. Terrott), appears at once upon the scene, to the delight of all the village girls, pretty or plain. Tintelstein, the syndic of the Schlachenschlossendorf (Mr. F. Robson), seizes the opportunity to exhibit his scarlet robe and display his talent by reading an address, composed originally for the Empress when she had proposed to pass through the village; but, as that personage altered her mind, the address lay unaddressed, and, without alteration, was made to fit the happy occasion of a baron's visit as well as that of the recovery of an empress.

The Baron, who has “an haughty bearing, and a naughty habit of swearing,” exhibits his peculiar temper and airs a few of his favourite imprecations, which are the more forcible because they cannot be pronounced by any but a very far-gone oath-taker. After asking for the prettiest girl in the village, and having been introduced to Bertha, be avows his intention of making her the Baroness von Schlachenstein, to the great disgust of Hans, who, turning over in his mind some plan to be “equal with the flirt,” wishes for a moment that he was the Baron. His wish is heard by The Gentleman in Black, who has previously inspired terror in the heart of the landlord of the principal tavern by refusing to eat food that would delight most mortals, and who endangers a very good set of teeth by devouring without sauce all the plates, dish covers, and even the knives and forks; this gentleman proffers his assistance in furthering the wish of Hans, providing the consent of the Baron can be also obtained; this is readily given, for the hard-swearing gentleman has been repulsed by Bertha, and he therefore wishes he could be Hans for a period.

The Gentleman in Black, by a series of pantomimic gestures, transposes the soul of the one into the body of the other, for a space from August 13 to September 13, 1584, upon which the ferocious Baron becomes as mild a being as the gentle Hans, and the gentle Hans becomes as ferocious as the Baron was formerly. Everything is changed; the Baron repudiates his wife and children (who make their appearance to show the falsity of his announcement that he was a bachelor); the wife obtains a decree from the Emperor for a restitution of conjugal rights; Hans, with the Baron's soul in his body, becomes the essence of cunning, and by an elaborate ruse, very unintelligible, but very effective, succeeds in cheating the Baron, so that when the month of metamorphoses will have run out the Baron will have the bodily possessions of Hans, as he at that time possesses the mental faculties and feelings. The month wants yet a fortnight of its fulfilment when, as each of the transposed is heartily tired of being somebody else, and longing for the end, an unexpected relief appears.

The Syndic announces that the Emperor has altered the calendar, and has taken away “the 11 days,” so that the 3d becomes the 13th, and the Gentleman in Black repeats his incantation, and Hans and the Baron each becoming himself again, the piece ends as happily as it should do. Hans marries Bertha, and the Baron retires contentedly with his wife and children.

The dialogue is very droll and amusing, and the music is so clever that its beauties had the most powerful effect in spite of a performance that would have been better for a few more rehearsals for the sake of the music. The acting by every one concerned was exceedingly good. Some of the melodies are most effective for the novelty of their phrases and elegance of form. The first song, sung by Madame Cole, “Am I to blame,” is delicious, and, being well sung, was repeated by enthusiastic request; another, “Once he loved me,” sung by the same lady, received a similar compliment. The choruses are very good, exceedingly cleverly written, and very melodious—those which open each act being specimens of writing of which Mr. Clay may be proud; and the great fun and real musical humour in the chorus, “How d'ye do, and Who are you,” not only kept the audience in high glee during its progress, but excited vociferous applause.

Apparently scarcely content with furnishing music to this musical legend that will live of itself either in connection with, or apart from, the body of the work, Mr. Clay—whether intentionally or no is not to the present purpose to discuss—has set a much-wanted example that will doubtless find many clever followers; that is to say, of writing music at once lively, agreeable, and pleasant, without being in the least suggestive of the sources from whence the music of most modern burlesques is supplied. The instrumentation is clever and well studied, and, as played last night, was very telling. The effect of the work upon the audience was that nearly every piece of music was encored; each actor and actress appeared before the curtain; and at the conclusion both author and composer were called on the stage to receive an ovation from a delighted audience. The piece was well put on the stage, the dresses and appearance of the chief characters being characteristic, clever, and comical.

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