Mazeppa

“Miss Leo Hudson appeared at Barnum’s Museum on Monday afternoon in the character of Mazeppa. A very large audience attended. The performance was extraordinary. At the beginning the stage represented a castle court yard, protected by a battlement, beyond which a zig-zag road wound its way upward; toward the sky. Upon the battlement a sentinel boldly paced beneath the silver moon. Presently a youth with enormous legs was seen to emerge and cross the court yard, a move which led to some remarks from the sentinel in respect to the sighing of the wind through the old battlements and likewise through his own ribs. He concluded by [illeg.] his intention to rest by the porter’s fire for a while, and then he disappeared. The youth with the big legs, now came once more upon the scene, and delivered an address to the castle wall. His words were understood to have some reference to a young lady within the castle. Meeting with no response from the castle wall, however, and feeling naturally solicitous lest he might attract the observation of the guards, he came forward, and, in a feeble pudding-like voice, sang a very long and Classical song. This vocal effort, afflicting the ears of an infant in the audience, caused the latter to squawk in a most vigorous manner. With this delightful duet came to an end, a window of the castle was seen to open, and a female appeared, whom the youth with the big legs addressed as Olinska, and who apostrophised him as Casimir. Between these two ensued a most unsatisfactory conversation. Go away, said the lady, in effect; clandestine visits are most reprehensible. Her voice was a strained falsetto, and she gave a most thundering emphasis to every sixth word. ‘I will not go,’ said the youth, ‘for the love of Olinska makes me strong, and defiant of danger.’ He did go, however, and then the sun immediately arose, and a couple of comic persons came into the court yard, and began to converse in respect to Olinska and Casimir. It appeared from their conversation that Olinska’s sire had doomed her to be married to one Prenislaus, a count Palatine. It further appeared that Casimir was an unknown Tartar. By-and-by the unknown Tartar came in, and, after some few violent words, knocked down the two comic men, and went out again. Olinska’s sire was then marshalled in—a gentleman who swaggered very much in his walk, and roared like a half-dozen jackasses. A grand procession then descended from the clouds, escorting the Count Prenislaus, and a betrothal ensued betwixt the Count and the lady, very much to Casimir’s disgust. Then came a ballet, and then a grand ‘tournament,’ before the monarch and his guest—broad swords two up and one down, and music by the band. All the while the two comic men were improving frequent opportunities of falling down, and of being knocked down by Casimir—which display of humor evinced their peculiar genius, and attracted the most cordial applause from the eminently chaste, intelligent, and refined audience. The public tournament being over, a private one of the same sort ensued betwixt Casimir and the Count, in which the latter was ignominiously defeated. But here the victorious youth came to grief, in consequence of the sudden arrival of the monarch and his myrmidons. ‘Bring forth the fiery, untamed steed,’ bellowed the savage King, ‘and strip Casimir, and bind him on the wild horse.’ The steed was brought. He proved to be a particularly mild and sweet-tempered beast; but, by dint of punching him in the throat with the butt end of a riding-whip, the ‘master of the horse’ finally prevailed on him to rear and prance with a dreadful show of ferocity. Casimir was then stripped and led forth—a process which appeared to afford the liveliest satisfaction, both to the youth himself and to a large number of men in the audience. Emotion, we have observed, when it affects persons who chew tobacco, causes them to expectorate in all directions. Emotion thus affected many persons who sat near us on this delightful occasion, so that they literally poured forth their feelings. Few spectacles are more edifying than is that of the human heart yielding spontaneous homage to genius. It turned out that Casimir when stripped was Miss Leo Hudson. A good deal of her was visible. She had evidently thrived on Olinska’s love, and waxed fat on that delicate diet. Her legs eclipsed those of any grand piano that was ever seen. We should say that she could walk a thousand miles in a thousand hours—though scarcely on the road to dramatic eminence. Being bound upon the back of the ‘fiery steed,’ the latter was violently whacked, so that he presently ran up the zig-zag road to the sky, flopping the lady about in a most unceremonious style. What then happened we are not able to state, as it appeared proper to come away while yet the delicious picture of bare-backed equestrianism remained fresh in memory, ‘unmixed with baser matter.’ So much of the performance as we did see, however, inspired us with grateful admiration for Barnum’s Museum, which is well known to be the only place where ladies and children can pass an agreeable and instructive day; where taste and morality preside over the drama; where a man may purchase ginger-bread between the acts, and learn his astrological destiny for two shillings; where ‘solid chunks of wisdom’ are shut up in glass cases; where every sweet domestic influence purifies the heart and ennobles the mind; and where so great a person as Miss Leo Hudson appears, both afternoon and evening, in so studendous a character as Mazeppa, in the marvelous drama of that name."  

“Leo Hudson commenced an engagement at Barnum’s Museum on May 27^th, opening to a very crowded audience, and every afternoon the lecture room has been crowded to witness the fair Leo dash up the runs lashed to be beautiful steed.  She has also played every evening to good houses, but every afternoon the attendance has been larger than has been seen in the ‘Lecture Room’ for a long time.”