The Sun.
London, England, 1860-05-15 00:00:00

CREMORNE GARDENS.

One would have thought that such a day es yes-
terday was about the most unpropitious that choice
could select, or that chance could hit upon, for the
opening of any place of amusement, especially for a
suburban pleasure garden. But, fortunately for
Cremorne, it does not depend for its powers of
attraction upon its rural characteristics alone. Ore-
morne is open, as its ' advertisements proclaim,
" every day, wet or dry." If the day is fine, the
gardens are delightful. If the weather is bad, no
matter; you may go to Cremorne in the full confi-
dence net only that you can keep under shelter from
the commencement of the entertainment till you
are tired, or till the close, if you are disposed to stay
so long, but also that you will find no lack of at-
tractive in-door amusements, and that the interest
of those entertainments will not flag for one moment.
The public know this well, as was clearly shown
yesterday. The opening of Cremorne for the season
had been announced with almost a surplusage of
advertisement. Of course everybody went. We
were not, however, quite sure of this at first, for
we went early, and found but few people there.
We had almost begun to apprehend that the wea-
ther—we do not like to say " abominable weather,"
after the fashion of the most pretentious of our Con-
temporaries, for that expression sounds uncomfort-
ably like blasphemy—was keeping people away.
But after a while we found that the company
almost imperceptibly increased ; until, in an in•
credibly-short space of time, the apparently meagre
assemblage had swelled into a large auditory.
All London was there—except, by the way, those
who went to crowd the postmen's meeting at
St. Martin's Hall, the multitudes who thronged to
meet the Champion of England .t the Cider
Cellars, and a few who, perhaps, may have attended
the London theatres sand entertainments.

Now, be it understood, we do not mean to say
that Cremorne was inconveniently crowded ; but,
all badinage apart, there was a very full attendance,'
quite as full as could be expected or ought to be
desired if the weather had been equally favourable
with that of those glorious days which made Lon-
don c'•eerful and the country joyous in the early
part of last week."
The reader will naturally expect that we should
give some account of the entertainments which re-
warded those enterprising visitors who, in order to
enjoy them, had gone through the trying ordeal
of a journey from London to Cremorne through the
weary, dreary, heart-breaking, and soul-crushing
rain. Well, we own that we have some difficulty
in dealing with this question. Shall we again
dilate upon those things we have seen, heard, dwelt
upon, and rejoiced in, times out of number, or
shall we confine ourselves to the novelties of the
present season? We have not t;me or space to do
either adequately. Briefly, we find the old things
better than ever, and the new things better than
we expected. The concert, of course, was admirable.
Cela ra sans dire! It was under the conduct of
Mr. J. Riviere, and what better guarantee for its
excellence could be demanded..? We cannot
leave this subject without giving a passing
word of praise to Mr. Fannin (Paddy
Fannin), whose admirable rendering of Irish
songs merits even more of popular appreciation
than they have yet received. Nor must we omit
to give a word of praise to Mr. Russel Grover and
Miss Kate Harley. This young lady deserved
especial commendation for her exquisitely artistic
imitation of Madame Celeste. Let it be understood
that when we speak of the concert, we intend to
include not only the out-of-door performance, but
also the " Musical Intermezzo" in the Ballet
Theatre.

Perhaps the chief " novelty" of the season is the
introduction to a British audience of a colonial
celebrity, Mr. Mahommed Baux. This gentleman,
who comes to us fresh, we might say " hot," from
Bengal, is a sort of black " General Tom Thumb."
He is, perhaps, a little taller than his American
predecessor, but is about equally wonderful as a
specimen of diminutive humanity. He resembles
Mr. Stratton in more respects than one. He is
perfectly wymmetrical, very intelligent, and won-
derfully little. The parallel goes further. He was
born a full-sized child, and for some time after his

birth presented no indication of a tendency to

undergrow." But after a while it was found
that he stopped growing, and like the beggar-
woman's child in " Joe Miller," " he was obstinate

and would not grow." The result is the same in
both cases—a man in age, intellect, and know-
ledge in the form and stature of a child. It is a
wonderful sight—not the less wonderful because
we have seen something like it in the case of the
American dwarf; but more wonderful because it is
almost incredible that a second marvel of the same
kind should appear so soon after the first.
There was a capital ballet, "La Vivandiere," in
which Mr. Milano and Madame Bolene appeared
to great advantage. Madame Boleno's "Nivandiere"
would be sufficient, if her reputation were not al-
ready established, to place her in a high rank
amongst her terpsichorean favourites. The scenery
of the ballet, by Mr. T. C. Dillon, was of sterling
merit.
The Elliott family, in a series of acrobatic exer-
cises, displayed an amount of ability, which con-
firmed us in the opinion we had formed that they
were equal, if not superior, in their art to their
celebrated prototypes, " Professor ilisley and his
infant sons."

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