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This dissertation has been 65-3934 microfilmed exactly as received

TSAI, Andre Tii-kang, 1935- THE BRITISH NAUTICAL DRAMA (1824-1843).

The Ohio State University, Ph.D., 1964 Speech- Theater

University Microfilms, Inc., Ann Arbor, Michigan THE BRITISH NAUTICAL DRAMA

(182*4-18*0 )

DISSERTATION

Presented in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree Doctor of Philosophy in the Graduate School of The Ohio State University

By

Andre T'. Tsai, B. A., M. A.

******

The Ohio State University 196*4-

Approved by

^Ldviser Department of Speech PLEASE NOTE: Figure pages throughout tend to "curl." Filmed as received. University Microfilms, Inc.

I VITA

April 6, 1935 Born - Chekiang, China

1957 . . • • B, A,, National Taiwan University, Taipei, Taiwan, China

1959-1960 . . University Fellow, The Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio

1961 o • • o M. A., The Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio

1961-1964 • • Research Assistant The Ohio State University Theatre Collection, Columbus, Ohio

PUBLICATIONS

"The Hartman Theatre Materials in the OSU Theatre Collection," The Ohio University Theatre Coil^t-ion phillaHn. April 1964.

FIELDS OF STUDY

Major Field: Theatre

Studies in History of the Theatre and Criticism. Professor John H. McDowell

Studies in Stage Direction and Modern Theatre Practice. Professor Roy H. Bowen

Minor Field: General Speech

Studies in Communication Theories. Professor Franklin H. Knower

Minor Field: English

Studies in Restoration and Eighteenth-Century Drama. Professor John H. Wilson

ii CONTENTS

Page

VITA a.***.***...***... ii

ILLUSTRATIONS

CHARTS . . .

Chapter I. INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY

Definition a....*.*...... *..**** 1 Review of the Literature •••••••••••••• 2 Objectives of the Study a*...*....*... 5 Limitations of the Study *•••••••**••*• 6 Nature of the Evidence • •••••••**••.•• 7 Procedures a.***...... *.*...*. 9

II* EDWARD FITZBALL: THE MAKING OF A TRADITION (1824-1829) . 12

Introduction ..a...... *...••••*. 12 The Nautical Character a************** 17 The Melodramatic Structure and the Nautical Situation a******************* 28

The melodramatic structure o . 28 The nautical situation *aa**a*a***« 32

The Nautical Spectacle • •••aa....a.*a. 33

The Floating Beacon: or. the Norwegian ttcgfitors...... 38 flw.Ettg V ...... *3 Tbv FIyIBK PflftghBftli • • • ...... Nelson; or, the Life of a Sailor...... 56 Xfrff lashgtpg f o...... i l 6o I f o f o d . , l t o r • • ......

Conclusions a.a..a...*«oa..o*« ». 78

III. DOUGLAS JERROLD: SOCIAL PROTEST OF A SENTIMENTALIST (1829-1830) 80

Introduction • • • a • a a ...... 80

iii CONTENTS (contd.)

Black-Eved Susan: or- All in the Downst A Melo­ drama of Confused Purpose •••••••••••• 81 The Press Gang: an Indictment of a Wicked Institution ...... 91 The Mutiny at the Norai Sympathy for the Oppressed 97 Jerrold and the Fitsball Formula • • • ...... 102

Transformation of the nautical character • • • 102 The new melodramatic pattern • ••••••.. 104 The nautical scenes ••••••••••••• 106

Conclusions • ••••••••••••••••••• 109

IV. SOME SPECIAL EFFECTS OF NAUTICAL STAGING ...... H I

Water, or Wave Machines •••••••«•••••• 112 Sailing and ••••••••••••••• 121 Panoramas ...... •»••.•••••••• 130 Miscellaneous Special Effects ••••••••••• 132

The Blue and Red Fire •••••••••••••• 132 Snoke •••••• •••••». 133 Lightning ...... •••••••••••• 133 Thunder •••••••••••«••.•••••. 136 W i n d ...... 136 Rain •••••••••••«•••••..... 136

The Magic Lantern •••••••••••••■•.. 137

V. COMMON GRIEVANCES OF THE SEAMAN IN THE U T S BIGHTEENTH- AND EARLY NINETEENTH**CENTURY BRITISH N A V Y ...... 143

The Recruiting System • •••••••••••••• 144 The Treatment of the Seaman 156

Pay ...... 157 Living conditions and compensation ...... 160 Corporal punishment 166

VI. THE TWO TRADITIONS OF THE NAUTICAL DRAMA (1830-1843) . . 174

Introduction ••••••••••••..«••»•• 174 The Jerrold Tradition ••••••••••••••. 175

iv CONTENTS (contd.)

Chapter P*g» The anti-captain convention • •••••••• 175 The anti-iapre s snent theme •••••«•••• 177 Rokii and the contemporary navy . • • • 180 *T Pn11 Ittj ** Partner Joe and the appeal to pathos...... 183 Nautical scenery • •••••••••••••. 185

The gruesome scene of cruelty ••••••• 185 The use of • • 186 The use of panoramas • •••••••••• 191

The Fltzball Tradition...... 194

The old Fitsball formula ••••••••••• 19^ The nautical adventure series •••••••• 200

Romance and adventure • •••••••••• 200 Return to spectacle and gunpowder « • • . • 203 EXotic scenery and pageantry ••••••• 207

Conclusions •••••••••••••••••••• 207

VII. SOME CHARACTERISTICS OF MINOR THEATRE AUDIENCES...... 209

Introduction • ••••••••••••••••••• 209 Verbal Responses and Causes of Noises • •••••• 213 Eating and Drinking during a Performance •.•••• 218 Respectability versus Notoriety • ••••••••• 219 Spectators and Actors • •••.•••••••••• 224 The Taste of Minor Theatre Audiences •••••••• 227 Conclusions • •••••••••••••••...• 229

VIII. CONCLUSIONS...... 230

Summary ...... o...... 230 The Reasons of Decline of the Nautical Drama . . • • 233 Suggestions for Future Studies ..••••••o.. 235

APPENDIXES ...... 237

BIELIOGRAPHI...... 246

v ILLUSTRATIONS

Figure Page

1. W. West’s Toy Theatre Print for the Climatic Moment in Act III, Scene vi. The Pilot, dated May 1, 1828. The Victoria and Albert Museum • ••••••••• ...... 21

2. W, West’s Toy Theatre Print for a Hornpipe in Act II, Scene ii, The Pilot. Dated April 18, 1828. The Vi ctoria and Albert Museum ...... 23

3. W, West’s Toy Theatre Print for a Rescue Scene in Act II, Scene i, The Red Rover, dated March 25, 1829* The Victoria and Albert Museum 25

4. W, West’s Toy Theatre Print of T. P. Cooke as Fid in The Red Rover. Dated March 3» 1829* The British Museum 27

5* W. West's Toy Theatre Print of Gallot as Jack Junk in The Floating Beacon. Dated October 20, 1830. The British Museum • 29

6. W. West’s Toy Theatre Print of Yates as the Red Rover, Dated March 3i 1829* The Victoria and Albert Museum • • 30

7. M. Skelt’s Toy Theatre Print for the Backpiece of Act I, Scene i, The Floating Beacon. Undated. The Victoria and Albert Museum • ••••••••• • ».•••••• 39

8. M. Skelt’s Toy Theatre Print for Act II, Scene iv, The Floating Beacon. Undated. The Victoria and Albert Museum • •••••••.•••••••••• ••••«• 41

9* M. & M. Skelt’s Toy Theatre Print for Set Pieces in The Floating Beacon. Undated. The Victoria and Albert Museum •••••••••.••.•••••.»«•••• 42

10. Dyer Senior’s Toy Theatre Print for Act I, Scene iv, The Pilot. Dated March 11, 1828. The Victoria and Albert Museum 46

11. W. West’s Toy Theatre Print for Act III, Scene vi, The Pilot. Dated April 17. 1828. The Victoria and Albert Museum ■••«•••••• ...... ••.•••• 48

vi ILLUSTRATIONS (contd.)

Figure Page

12. W. West Toy Theatre Print for Act III, Scene vi, The Red Rover. Dated Kay 1829. The British Museum • • • • •

13. Frontispiece in Dicks1 Standard Plays Edition, Depicting a Moment in Act I, Scene iii, The Flying Dutchman. Undated. The Victoria and Albert Museum •••••••• 51

I**. Green1s Toy Theatre Print for the Scene in The FIvine Dutchman. Undated. The Victoria and Albert Museum •••••••. .oo...... 5^

15. Frontispiece in Dicks1 Standard Plays Edition of Nelson: or. the Life of a. Sailor*. Depicting a Moment in Act I, Scene iv, Undated • •••••••••••••••••• 58 16.M. Skeltfs Toy Theatre Print for Set Pieces in Act II, Scene ii and Scene iv, The Inchcape Bell. Undated. The Victoria and Albert Museum ...... 6l

17. M. Skelt1s Toy Theatre Print for Act II, Scene iv, The Inchcane Bell. Undated. The Victoria and Albert Museum 63

18. M. Skelt1s Toy Theatre Print of Characters for Act II, Scene iv, The Inchcane Bell. Undated. The Victoria and Albert Museum ••••«••••.••••••••• 65

19. Frontispiece in Cumberland1s Minor Theatre Edition of The Red Rover. Depicting a Moment in Act I, Scene iv, Undated. New York Public Library ••••••••••• 6?

20. M. Skelt1s Toy Theatre Print for Act I, Scene iv. The Red Rover. Undated. The Victoria and Albert Museum • • 68 21. W. West1s Toy Theatre Print for Act II, Scene i, The Red Rover. Dated March 27, 1829. The Victoria and Albert Museum 70

22. W. West1s Toy Theatre Print for Act II, Scene i, The Red Rover. Dated March 27, 1829. The Victoria and Albert Museum •••••••••••••••••.••• 72

23. Dyer & Co^s Toy Theatre Print for Act II, Scene i, The Red Rover. Dated 1829, ty Speaight. The Victoria and Albert Museum 73

vii ILLUSTRATIONS (contd.)

Figure Page

24. M. Skelt*s Toy Theatre Print jfor Act II, Scene i, The Red Rover. Dated ca. 1867-80 by Speaight. The Victoria and Albert Museum ••••••••••••••• ? 6

25* A Park*s Toy Theatre Print for Act II, Scene i, The Red Rover. Dated ca. 1835-37 by Speaight. The Victoria and Albert Museum • ••••••••• .o...... « 77

26. Frontispiece in Dicks* Standard Plays Edition of Black- Eyed Susan. Depicting a Climactic Moment in Act II, Scene iii, Undated. The Victoria and Albert Museum • • 83

27* W. West's Toy Theatre Print of T. P. Cooke as William in Hlack-Eyed Susan. Dated September 9» 1829. The Victoria and Albert Museum ••••••••• ...... 88

28. M. & M. Skelt*s Toy Theatre Print of T. P. Cooke as Arthur Bryght in The Press Gang. Undated. The Victoria and Albert Museum • •••••••••••••.•••• 9^

29* Sabbattini's Wave Machine, the First Method, Reproduced from The Renaissance Stage, p. 130...... 114

30. Sabbattini's Wave Machine, the Second Method, Reproduced from Th9-fi9naisfiansa-£fc*ga» p. 132 ...... 116

31. Sabbattint's Wave Machine, the Third Method, Reproduced from The Renaissance Stage, p. 1 3 3 ...... 117

32. Sabbattini’s Wave Machine, the Fourth Method, Reproduced from The Renaissance Stage, p. 134 ...... 118

33. A Nineteenth-century Method of Ship Sailing across the Stage, Reproduced from Theatre Notebook. Vol. 10 (1955-56), Plate IV, between pp. 82-83 ...... 123

34. Sabbattini’s Method of Ship Sailing, Reproduced from The Renaissance Stage, p. 1 3 9 ...... 124

35* A Ground Flan of a Parisian Method of Ship Sailing, Reproduced from Hopkin, Magic, p. 317 126

36. An Elevation View of a Parisian Method! of Ship Sailing, Reproduced from Hopkin, Magic, p. 317 127

viii ILLUSTRATIONS (contd.)

Figure Page 37* A Nineteenth-century Method of Making Steam, Reproduced from Theatre Notebook. Vol. 10 (1955*56), Plate IV. between pp. 82-83 •••••••••••.•••..•• 134

38. A Nineteenth-century Apparatus for Producing Lightning, Reproduced from Hopkin, Magic, p. 302 135

39* An Eighteenth-century S3.ide for Projecting a Tempest, Reproduced from Encyclopaedia Britannica ...... 139

40. An Eighteenth-century Slide for Projecting a Ship in a Tempest, Reproduced fromEncyclopaedia Britannica . • . 139

41. An Eighteenth-century Magic Lantern, Reproduced from Encyclopaedia Britannica ...... 140

42. A Scene of Flogging on Board a Man-of-war, Reproduced from Samuel F. Holbrook, Three Score Years ...•••• 168

43. Frontispiece in Dicks1 Standard Plays Edition of Jacob Faithful. Depicting a Moment of Joy in Act III, Scene vii, Undated - 178

44. ' M. & M. Toy Theatre Print of Cline as Edward Ross in Captain Ross. Undated. The Victoria and Albert Museum • 182

45. M. & M. Toy Theatre Print for Act II, Scene ii, Mv Poll and Mv Partner Joe. Undated. The Victoria and Albert Museum .•••••...... ••••• 187

46. Frontispiece in Cumberland*s Minor Theatre Edition of The Sea. Depicting a Tableau Vivant in Act I, Scene vii 189

47. M. & M. Skelt*s Toy Theatre Print for Set Pieces in Act I, Scene v, Captain Ross. Undated. The Victoria and Albert Museum ...... 190

48. M. & M. Skelt*s Toy Theatre Print for Act III, Scene i, Jacob Faithful. Undated. The Victoria and Albert Museum ...... 193

ix CHARTS

Chart Page

I. Production Chart for The Pilot and The Red R o v e r ...... 35

II. Allowance of Provisions ...... 161

I

X CHAPTER I

INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY

Definition

This study is intended to deal with one genre of nineteenth century British drama— the nautical dramae The term nautical drama has sometimes been indiscriminately used to refer to stage presentations dealing with a nautical subject during the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. Confusion can be easily eliminated with the following definition of the usage of the term as it is used in this study.

1. The main attraction of a nautical drama or play is in a

British seaman and several nautical scenes. To distinguish it from its early prototypes, it is necessary to emphasize the word "drama11 or

" p l a y , w h i c h implies a dramatic structure of some length with substan­ tial spoken parts.

These two features— the British seaman and the nautical scenes (or spectacles)— had appeared separately before the 1820*s in many of the nautical presentations on the stage. The first type was usually a short sketch of a situation involving a virtuous British seaman. The sketch composed entirely of songs and recitatives was usually subtitled as "ballad opera" (Bickerstaffe, Thomas and Sally: or the Sailor1s Return. 1760), "musical drama" (Cross, The Purse: or. Benevolent Tar, 1746), or "entertainment" (Sheridan, The Glorious First of June. 1794). The second type was usually an exhibition of nautical spectacle that used very little or no dialogue. It was usually subtitled as "serio-comic ballet" (Cross, Blackboard: or. the Captive Prince. 1798) or."naval spectacle) . (Cross, Sir Francis Drake, and Iron Arm. 1812). It was not until 1824 when Fitzball began to adapt contemporary sea-novels that these two

1 2. The nautical scenes (or spectacles) which constitute an I '\ 1 important part of the drama were staged in the traditional manner, that is, using artificial water (wave machines, canvas, etc.) in contrast to

Charles Dibdinls real water spectacles at Sadler1s Wells before 1824.

3. The nautical dramas in this study were the exclusive products of the minor London theatres. Without exception, all the {days discussed in the following originated from the minor theatres such as the Adelphi, the Surrey, the Coburg, the Royal Pavilion, the Queen's Sadler's Wells, etc. even though some of the most successful ones were transported later to the major theatres as well as to theatres all over England and America.

Review of the Literature

While the term nautical drama occasionally appears in various theatre histories dealing with the British theatre of the eighteenth and nineteenth century, very little has been specifically written on the subject. Standard sources of the period all touch the subject rather lightly. Nicoll in his A History of English Drama. 1660-1900 only men­ tions the name of Black-Eved Susan in connection with burlesque without 2 any elaboration. George Rowell devotes two pages to the above-mentioned play, but his discussion of it lacks proper perspective. For instance, he somehow credits Jerrold with evolving for William "a nautical jargon which was to prove the stock-in-trade of the sailor-hero in countless

features were incorporated in a melodramatic form. It is significant that, excepting The Floating Beacon, all his plays on nautical subject matter were called either "nautical burletta" or "nautical melodrama." They distinctly assumed the form of a play. 1

2Allardyce Nicoll, A History of Enough TVawm, 1660-7000 (Cambridge: At the University Press, 1955)» IV, 148. 3 nautical melodramas to follow;" while in reality that was probably the least of Jerrold*s contributions to the nautical drama since ELtzball

preceded him in that area by half a decade, Ernest Reynolds in Earlv

Victorian p*wna wiawtiows the three nautical plays by Jerrold and recog­

nizes that the nautical melodrama "was fulfilling a function which the legitimate stage neglected,"**’ Unfortunately he does not elaborate on the

subject, Ernest Bradlee Watson makes no distinction between Jerrold*s

Black-Eyed Susan and Bitzball’s The Pilot and considers the latter play

was "conceived in a highly individual and realistic vein"IMaurice

Willson Disher’s Blood and Thunder, which deals with mid-Victorian melo­

drama, treats some of the more famous nautical pieces such as HLack-Eved

Susan. The Mutiny at the Nore. and Mv Poll and My Partner Joe atsome

length,^ but he makes no attempt to relate these plays to other nautical

pieces of the same period nor does he recognize the implications of

social problems in Jerrold's plays.

If the above standard histories of the period have neglected the

nautical drama as a genre. V, C, CLinton-Baddeley’s The Burlesque Tradi­

tion in the English Theatre after 1660 merits special mention. A section

3 George Rowell, The Victorian Theatre (London: Oxford University Press, 1956) pp. 48-49. 4 Ernest Reynolds, Early Victorian Drama. 1830-1870 (Cambridge; W. Heffer & Sons Ltd., 1936), p. 132. 5 ' ■'Ernest Bradlee Watson, Sheridan to Robertson: A Study of the Nineteenth-Century London Stage (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1926), p. 355.

^Maurice Willson Disher, Blood and Thunder: Mid-Victorian Melo­ drama and Its Origins (London: Frederick Muller Ltd., 1949), pp. 142-46; 155-56. k of the book entitled "Jolly Jack Tar Joke" is devoted to tracing the development of the characterization of the British sailor in plays from

Congreve1s Love for Love to Gilbert"s H. M. S. Pinafore.? Even though the essay is brief and essentially concerns the burlesque tradition of the jolly jack tar on stage, it is still the most comprehensive document on the subject. However, only four plays during the period of this study are hurriedly mentioned. Since he does not take into consideration the visual appeal of the nautical drama and seems to be content to view the nautical tradition; from a literary point of view, his explanation of the popularity and the tenacious occupancy in the minor theatres of such a feeble form of drama ("The victories of Hawke and Rodney and Howe and

Nelson created a demand for the sailor. The public wanted him. The

Q theatre managers needed him. . . .") is hardly satisfactory.

( The above summary survey of the existing literature makes it

de a r that there is a lack in the treatment of the nautical drama up to the present time. The deficiencies may be specified in the following:

1. Previous critical opinions have been concentrated mainly on a

few of the best known nautical pieces by Fitzball and Jerrold. Since no

sufficient samples of the nautical drama of the early nineteenth century

have been gathered and analyzed, the explanations they offer for the

popularity and appeal to the common people have by necessity been based

upon a half-truth and hit-and-run type of conjecture. It is no wonder

7V. C. Clinton-Baddeley, The Burlesque Tradition in the English Theatre after 1660 (London: Methuen & Co., 1952), pp. 98-107. Q Clinton-Baddeley, 102. I

5 that no significant and insightful statement about the genre has been 1 made by these scholars,

2, No awareness is noted of different types of nautical drama which existed even between the well-known plays that have been cited as examples of the nautical drama,

3* The possibility of nautical drama as a reflection of the contemporary British naval social problems is completely ignored,

4. While occasionally a nautical play is analyzed as a melodrama

(such as Dlsher has done) for its literary interest, the visual appeal and excitement it might have offered to the audience is overlooked,

i Objectives of the Study

The formulation of the following main objectives of this study is based upon the above-mentioned deficiencies existing in previous literature:

1, This study is intended to form an overall view of the nautical drama as a genre through a detailed analysis of a group of representative plays',

2, Since Jerrold1s nautical plays deal with some of the social problems of the British Navy of the period, an attempt will be made in this study to find out the social conditions of the British seaman of the period,

3, Since nautical scenes occupy an ineradicable place in the

nautical drama, one of the objectives of this study is to acquire addi­

tional information on the staging of nautical spectacles. 6

4. Since the nautical drama was an exclusive product of the minor theatres, this study is intended to gain some insight into the minor theatre audiences.

Limitations of the Study

I The main limitations of this study may be listed as follows:

1. The study is confined to a detailed analysis of twenty-five

representative nautical plays initially produced at the minor theatres

between 1824 and 1843. The year 1824 marked the end of the real water

spectacles at Sadler's Wells, the last known record of using the under­

stage water tank being Hungarian Outlaw: or. the Castle of the Lake.9

The year 1824 also marked the beginning of the nautical drama as the

term is defined in this study; in that year Fitzball's first nautical

piece, The Floating Beacon, was produced at the Adelphi. Even though

the nautical drama still lingered on for some years after 1843, that

year is still a convenient signpost to end our survey. With the passing

of the Theatres Act, some minor theatres such as Sadler's Wells bid

farewell to melodrama and took up the mantle of serious drama. It is

true that the melodramatic fare at some minor theatres such as the Surrey

effected no great change because of the Act, but the days of the minor

theatres as places of entertainment for the illiterate and the unsophis­

ticated were numbered. With the return of polite society to the theatre,

the boisterous minor theatre audiences of the first half of the nineteenth

century finally relinquished their theatres to their social superiors and

^A Sadler's Wells playbill dated "September 20, 1824 and during the week" (OSUTC Film No. 1522B*). 7 sought amusement elsewhere. The year 1843 was especially significant in the history of the nautical drama because Haines, the most important playwright after Fitzball and Jerrold, died in that year. From that time on the nautical drama was obviously on its way out.

2. A large number of nautical plays were produced during the period under survey, but many of them did not see the light of publication and are now lying like treasure trove in the vaults of the Lord Chamber­ lain’s Office at St. James's Palace. Without exception, the plays avail­ able to this study are all in printed form. Almost all of them enjoyed a certain degree of popular success and were deemed fit for the enjoyment of posterity by the editors of Duncombe's British Theatre, Cumberland's

Minor Theatre, Lacy's Acting Edition, Dicks' Standard Plays, etc. Many of these were directly copied from original promptbooks of the first productions. However, it should be recognized as a limitation that representative as these twenty-five plays are of the popular taste of the period, these were not the only popular nautical plays produced during this period. Occasionally a very popular play for some reason never went to print.^®

Nature of the Evidence

The sources used in this study could be divided into two groups

(primary and secondary) according to their closeness to the topics at hand.

10 For instance, William Bayle Bernard's Casco Bavs or the Mutineers of 1727 had over one hundred performances at the Olympic in 1827* but was never published. 1. Primary sources: A, Various editions of the twenty-five plays have been used for d o s e analysis* Occasionally, some of the editions have frontis­ pieces depicting the climactic moments of the plays* Since sometimes these engravings were copied directly from sketches drawn from actual theatrical productions, they are valuable pictorial evidence for sug­ gesting scenery*

B* The microfilmed materials at The Ohio State University

Theatre Collection have provided another source of primary material for the study. Especially indispensable have been copies of the toy theatre prints and juvenile dramas from the Victoria and Albert Museum and

Sadler*s Wells Playbill Collection (1800-1850) from Finsbury Public

Libraries* Various other miscellaneous items concerning the early nineteenth-century British theatre have also provided important data for this study.

C* The third type of primary sources come from British periodicals of the period 182*4-43 such as The Times. The 1 Examiner. The

New,Monthly Magazine. The Theatrical Observer. The Theatrical Journal

(after 1840) and so on. The drama reviews of these periodicals provide eye-witness accounts of the productions and audience reactions. The information gathered from these sources when they are incorporated with other accounts and pictorial evidence helps to reconstruct some of the nautical scenes.

D. The autobiographies of actors, authors, managers, and other people connected with the nineteenth century British theatre have

constituted the fourth type of primary sources. 9

E. In our investigation of the naval social conditions, the autobiographies of naval personnel, especially those of the seamen, have served another primary source of information.

2. Secondary sources:

A. Nicoll*s hand-list of plays, 1800-1850, in his A History of English Drama. IV, has been used as a handy reference for play selec­ tion and other purposes. However, it must be noted that some of his first production dates are not reliable. Whenever possible, other primary sources, instead of this hand-list, have been used for authen­ ticating dates.

B. General histories of the theatre of the period have been

consulted for various purposes.

C. Naval histories, special studies on social conditions,

and treatises and pamphlets concerning various aspects of the British

Navy have been relied upon for information concerning governmental

policies, Acts of Parliament, Admiralty regulations, et cetera.

D. Standard sources on the technical theatre and encyclo­

pedias of the period have been consulted for technical information

regarding staging and reconstruction of certain nautical scenesi

Procedures

A careful study of these playscripts indicates that they fall

distinctly into three chronological periods: , (l) 1824-1829, (2 ) 1829-

1830, and (3) 1830-1843. The first two periods were dominated by two I giants of the nautical drama: Fitzball and Jerrold. The third period

belongs to writers who largely followed the conventions laid down by

either Fitzball or Jerrold. 10

In order to give the general period under review a comprehensive coverage, it is deemed necessary to codify and categorize the various ingredients of the plays by these two major playwrights. Chapter Two is devoted to an analysis of Fitzball*s ingredients of his success (the nautical character, the melodramatic structure and the nautical situ­ ation, and the spectacle). Chapter Three is devoted to enumerating

Jerrold*s contributions to the genre and the social implications of his social protest.

Since the nautical spectacle occupies a very important place in

Fitzball*s formula, Chapter IV is intended to deal with the technical aspects of his nautical staging.

A study of Jerrold*s plays reveals the fact that his social protest had contemporary connotations; therefore, Chapter V is concerned with an investigation of the social conditions of the British Navy, especially the abuses and grievances suffered by the common sailor in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth century.

Since the nautical drama was largely the product of the popular minor theatres, Chapter VII is intended to find out more about this minor theatre audience.

Chapter VIII, the concluding chapter, is devoted to some discussion of the reasons for the decline of the nautical drama around the mid­ century and possible future studies.

The authors and production data of the nautical plays under survey are given in Appendix A. While most of the editions vary little in stage directions or scene designations, occasional stylistic differ­ ences do occur. A collation of variant texts has been undertaken in a 11 few instances for more meaningful reading. Quotations (dialogue, prompt notes, scene designations, stage directions, and so on) from a play are not footnoted since the page numbers vary materially from one edition to another; they are, however, noted at the end with the common denominator— the act and the scene from which they are taken. The various editions of each play in this study are listed in the bibliography. CHAPTER II

EDWARD FITZBALL: THE MAKING OF A TRADITION (1824-1829)

Introduction

The nautical drama or burletta, as we understand the term now, might be said to have started with Edward Fitzball even though stage presentations based upon nautical subject matter and using elaborate nautical scenery as the main attraction had been flourishing long before his time. In order to maintain proper perspective on Fitzball as a nautical dramatist, it is necessary to examine some of the works of his predecessors. We find the prototype Jolly Jack Tar in James C. Cross*s production of The Purse: or. Benevolent Tar at the Theatre Royal in

Haymarket in 1?46.^ Will Steady, the benevolent tar, is sympathetic and generous towards the underdogs and professes patriotic sentiments in abundance, though he is by no means a well-delineated character. In this short one-act "musical drama," we also have the opposition to virtue in the villain Theodore, a recurrent theme in the nautical dramas of the later period. Latter examples of the Jolly Jack Tar could be found in

Mat Mainmast and his messmates in Thomas John Dibdin* s The English Fleet

^James C. Cross, The Purse: or. Benevolent Tar, a Musical Drama in One Act (Dublin: Printed for R. Cowley, 1746).

12 13 In 1342 produced at Covent Garden in 1805*2 As a matter of fact, Mat has all the virtues of his counterparts in Fitzball*s plays* He is depicted as a brave, cooperative sailor, proud of his country and king, gallant to the girls, and full of patriotic sentiments* However, unlike the later nautical writers who idealize the tar to such a degree as to appear unbelievable, Dibdin at least has the decency to preserve one human weakness in Mat by describing his first appearance thus:

Enter Mainmast, tipsy * * * (II, ii)

Mat's songs are also very much varied in moods— ranging from nostalgically lyric (II, ii) to militantly patriotic (II, v). In short, probably his characterization is less stereotyped and more realistic than the bogus sailors that walked upon the stage a quarter of a century later.

Cross's contribution to the development of the nautical drama was not limited to the creation of Will Steady: During his management at the Sans Pareil (later the Surrey) Theatre around the turn olf the century, he staged quite a few sea-fights in his dumbshows, which were plays using songs, recitatives, and words written on scrolls to reveal important messages without resorting to dialogue* His HLackbeard; or. the

Captive Prince produced on Easter Monday 1798 has the following prompt notes: Scene the Last: HLackbeard*s Ship, the Revenge, and Lieutenant Maynard's the Pearl, grappled together in dose

Thomas John Dibdin, The English Fleet in 13^2. an Historical Comic Opera in Three Acts (London: John Cumberland, n*d*). This opera was first produced at Covent Garden in 1805 with Munden as Mat Mainmast* It was revived at Drury Lane in 1833 and the Haymarket in l£&7, 14

action. The crews of each in the act of boarding and repelling.3

His Sir Francis Drake, and Iron Arm subtitled "a new naval spectacle" in

1800 has even wore elaborate nautical operations:

Scene XI and Last: View of the Spanish and the English Fleets in the Harbour of Carthagena, with the castle and Town at a distance. The Engagement Commences— -Boats are seen rowing from ship to ship . . . Iron Arm, on board of one of the boats, attacks Alnhonso on board another— boards him— overburthened with numbers it sinks, and and Iron Arm, swim for their lives, the former to another boat, the latter till he reaches the head of a large ship near the front of the stage— attempts to board it commanding his men to follow him— the castle takes fire, and the whole of the Town of Carthagena appears in ruins.

Visually, these naval scenes were probably just as spectacular as some of Fitzball* s since, except for a few new devices, the rigging of sea- scenes did not effect any change from the eighteenth to the nineteenth

century.

▲Iso, about that time, Charles Dibdin, Jr. was staging a differ­

ent type of nautical spectacle. Taking advantage of the location of his theatre plant, he installed a large tank underneath the stage to let

in water from the New River; thus the sea-scenes at Sadler*s Vfells from

1804 to 1824 used real water instead of the traditional artificial water.

One of the main attractions of this aqua theatre was the staging of

naval spectacles, which usually employed model ships with sails and

riggings specially made by shipwrights and riggers from the Royal

^James C. Cross, Blackboard: or. the Captive Prince, a Serio- Comic Ballet in Two Acts (London: John Buncombe, n.d.). 4 James C. Cross, Sir Francis Drake, and Iron_Ar». a New Naval Spectacle ("Dramatic Works," Vol. II; London, 1812), p. 32. 15 Dockyard at Woolwich**’ These spectacles on water were staged with much precision in machinery so that the cannons would fire and ships would explode and sink at the right moment*^ Even though* from the technical standpoint* these aqua scenes were different from the nautical scenes in Fitzball*s plays* they were nevertheless similar in their basic function and purpose in providing spectacle and arousing patriotic feeling and interest in the British navy*

Fitzball*s conversion to writing nautical drama was quite acci­ dental* In his attempt at adapting the sea story The Floating Beacon, for the stage* there was no particular significance on his part. To him*

such an endeavor could not mean more than the adaptation of a Scott novel7 or any topical newspaper item* But times seemed to be ripe for

the revival of interest in nautical plays; being a sensitive hack-writer, he grasped the opportunity and began to supply the right commodities for

his eager consumers* Within a few years he became the most popular

nautical playwright in England*

^Charles Dibdin* Jr.* Professional A Literary Memoirs, ed. George Speaight (London: The Society for Theatre Research, 1956), p* 60*

^Dibdin maintains that "in order to affix the machinery con­ structed for working the ships* etc** and other purposes, it was neces­ sary that many of the Scenemen should (properly dressed) go into the Water*M When the principal machinist went on strike two days before the Siege of Gibraltar. Dibdin was deeply disturbed and confessed that "without the service of the Delinquent * * * we could not without a week*s rehearsal* produce the Scene in such a state of perfection as was absolutely requisite for the occasions; * • *H (Dibdin* 79)•

^Between 1822 and 1824* he adapted three novels by Sir Walter Scott: The Fortunes of Nigel (Surrey, June 25* 1822), Peveril of the Peak (Surrey* February 6* 1823), Waverley (Adelphi, March 11, 1824)* See Nicoll* p* 312* 16

Before we go Into detailed analysis of Fitzball's nautical plays written between 1824 and 1829* it is necessary to call attention to a few general outward characteristics that distinguish his nautical plays from those of his predecessors: (1) All of Fitzball*s nautical plays originated from the ninor London theatres such as the Adelphi and the

Surrey* even though some of his most popular ones such as The Pilot and

The Bed Rover later Migrated tothe Major theatres as well as the provincial theatres all over England and America* (2) These nautical plays belonged to the eonnon people who were starved for heroes of hunble origin whon they could i comfortably worship and love with all their hearts* (3) After 1814, England enjoyed a prolonged period of peace; but the period fron 1824 to 1829* in which Fitzball produced his major nautical plays* was not very far renoved from the days of the naval glozy* Charles Dibdin the Elder's Melodic sea songs which did so much for the country during the Neopoleonic Wars were still very Much in vogue and the menories of such naval heroes as St* Vincent* Nelson, and Howe were still fresh* It is understandable that any victorious movenent on the sea would surely revive the excessive nostalgic and patriotic feelings about the seamen of former ages* The people were not disappointed in

their expectations: the last grand victory in a pure sea engagement was Q won at Navario in 1827* which apparently helped to promote revived interest in the nautical {lays*

g See Appendix B on the nautical drama and current events 17

From an historical point of view* Fitzball* s nautical dr anas are the logical descendant of Cross*s nautical operas and dumbshows and

Dibdin* s nautical spectacles on water* Fitzball was no innovator or dramatic genius; what he did was simply assemble all the popular nautical ingredients of his predecessors. It is therefore not surprising that his six nautical plays under survey could be grouped under the following headings for discussion: (1) the nautical character, (2) the melo­ dramatic structure and the nautical situation, and (3) the spectacular nautical scenes* Our purpose is to obtain the secret of bis nautical formula*

The Nautical Character

In every nautical play of Fitzball*s, there is always a central nautical character who commands our immediate attention both by his ( appearance and his picturesque, sometimes, unintelligible sea Jargon*

Take the most celebrated Long Tom Coffin of The Pilot for example. He chases "landlubbers'* with his long harpoon and confesses that he does not know how to handle his legs ashore, being only out of sight of the sea once in his life* A typical speech follows:

If you, or old mother slip-gibbet here, let fly your Jawing tackle, till I and ay comrades are off, I'll blow out your calf* 6 brains for you* And mayhap you'd wish to know who I bet Look at this here pickter on my hat— that's ay ship: she and I were born on the same day* I*m Long Tom Coffin; and, if ever I catches you afloat, we’ll teach you the use of rat­ line, and how to box the compass, too, in good arnest* (H, iii) 18

Jack Junk* the nautical hero of Fitzball*s first attempt, The Floating

Beacon, talks in even more complicated, metaphors:

Ha, ha, hat H i s lucky Ben*s cag came afloat after us, or shiver my timbers, but we should all have been drier than pickled herrings, notwithstanding our duckingi This has been the devil of a hurricane though, the boat completely upset, and my lady moon is shining as beautiful as a ship's candle through a cat's head,— So, so, here comes old Veignstadt with signals of distress hanging out of his cabin windows, what cheer my hearty, what cheer I (II, i)

By the time Fitzball took over the nautical drama, the Jolly

Jack Tar had assumed all the virtues of the land. It was possible that the low-class people who visited the minor theatres night after night were only interested in seeing the British sailor glorified and elevated to the status of a deity. The most artificial claptrap and sentimentalism was always met with great applause, Fitzball, being an opportunist, saw no reason to let any provocation for uttering virtuous exclamations slip by,^ The part of Jack Junk is full of national and nautical sentiments such as this one:

There never yet was a true English man, that thought of his own danger, when he could save another in the hour of distress, (I, i)

Naturally, he is also a promulgator of the principles of justice and equality:

I'll let 'em see that I was born in a Christian land, where Justice stands on no ceremony at all,— no, she walks

■Hfhen he was a resident playwright at the Surrey, he "touched up" the libretto of Somnawbula and "contrived to pop into his [the count's] . mouth a clap-trap, respecting what the man deserves who would be coward enough to take advantage of unprotected female innocence," It was received by a "burst of approval with which a Surrey audience, in particu­ lar, invariably greets a virtuous exclamation" (Edward Fitzball, Thirty- Five Years of a Dramatic Author1 sULfo [London: T. C. Newby, 1859]* I* 120-22), into the poor man*s cabin, and the rich nan's parlour, with­ out axing leave; and wherever she finds a rogue, lays her paws upon bin, and be damn*dl (II, i)

If the reader detects a note of impersonality in the tone, it is because the nautical characterization is based upon the humor of the profession rather than differences in individuals* Sometimes, the narcissistic self-glorification borders on the burlesque: Jack Sykes, another generous sailor in Kelson: or. the Life of a Sailor declares unabashedly:

A sailor, though his hand be rough in the service of his country, may have a heart as tender, and feelings as fine, as the best lord of the land* (I, ii)

The nautical character of Fitzball*s manufacture has legendary courage in the battlefield* He is unhappy unless he can engage more than half a dozen enemies all at once* The following scene from The Pilot is by no means unusual:

(* * * Tom drives off the six soldiers, R*S*E*— Re-enters, and meets the Sergeant*— A set Combat— Tom first loses his harpoon, then his sword; and finding himself surrounded by soldiers, he runs up the rock, L*, and they present their muskets at him*) Sergeant: Surrender! Long Tam Coffin (from the rock, L*): My commander taken, and you would secure Tom, too* Ko, no; these waves are to me what the land is to you* I was born on them, and sooner than be captured by an ininy, I always meant that they should be my grave* Colonel: Fire! (They fire— Tom throws himself into the sea, and dis­ appears. • • •) (III, iii)

Needless to say, Tom is quite safe after a long swim in the stormy ocean*

The tars in Fitzball*s plays are always on the best terms with

their superiors* They are always respectful, loyal, and would sacrifice

their own lives for ‘their commanders* We know, for instance, that Jack

Sykes has risked his life frequently to save Nelson*s (I, iv)* 20

Lieutenant Wilder owes his very being to Fid and Guinea, who after raising him and teaching him the sailing trade, have followed him in and out of danger ever since, Tom is ready to come between the raised rifles and his Captain Barnstable and even proposes to offer himself as a slave to save his master's neck. West's toy theatre print dated May 2, 1828 depicts that particular moment (Fig, 1).

Naturally, every tar in fiction has a sweetheart at home.

Reminiscing about the happy times at port constitutes one of the standard tender moments in the play. Here the tough, good-natured tar is apt to shed a tear or two. Describing his sad parting from his Poll to his messmates, Jack Junk continues:

Then, dear creature, she sat herself down, on the grass to cry, quite overcome ye see and so I sat down too, and I kissed away her tears, and I was quite overcome: and what followed, I can't describe, (wines away a tear) (II, i)

If we have heard the deathless phrase "a wife in every port" about

sailors, it does not apply to the sailors in Fitzball*s plays. The

typical sailor in Fitzball* .3 dramas is polite and apt to be merry when women are around, but unfaithfulness is an entirely foreign thought to him. He is excellent company for both his messmates and womenfolk who happen to be on board his ship. He is usually an accomplished singer which accounts for the sporadic insertion of choral and solo sea songs

throughout the play. No authentic nautical play can do without a horn­ pipe. Fid in The Red Rover tells Gertrude, Lieutenant Wilder's lady

friend,

0— , if her ladyship would have no objection to a little of the nautical, Guinea and I, and Corporal here, will soon show her, that while soldiers and sailors can fight for the fair sex in war, they can also splice their best endeavours to amuse them in peace. A...,

/■ St., i

fig. 1.— W. West's toy theatre print for the climatic moment in Act III, Scene vi. The Pilot, dated May 1, 1828. The Victoria and Albert Museum. OSUTC film No. 1716*. V /*”

22

The prompt notes are usually very brief regarding hornpipes, since these

dances must have been too much of the regular routine operation to

warrant special notice by the stage manager. In this case, however, we

are fortunate to have a description of such an event,

(Mus.— Enter the rest of the sailors from the hatchway, one with a drum, another with a violin; and others with three camp chairs, which they place LI for Madame, the Red Rover, • • •) Fig, Ben, bouse up, and give us a jolly good scrape, (The sailor with the fiddle sits on the gun carriage L, 3d,E, and the drummer, R a) Fid. Strike up. (II, i)

A glance at such a festive occasion may be gained from Act II, Scene ii

of The Pilot, preserved in West's toy theatre print dated April 16, 1828

(Figure 2).

Later in the period, the hornpipe became such an important feature

in the nautical drama that occasionally because of the peculiar situation

in the plot, the chivalrous nautical character is not available to lead

the steps; but the smugglers (the bad guys) would do it for good measure i anyway. Such is the case in Act II, Scene ii, of The Inchcape Bell

where the hornpipe takes place on the "Deck of the Smuggler1s Ship, by

moonlight."

The officers in a typical Fitzball play usually gallantly play

second fiddle to the hearty picturesque tar, who, by the way, over­

shadows everybody else in the cast. In The Inchcape Bell, the sailor is

not such a central figure; hence, Jupiter Seabreeze, a marine, and

Captain Taffrail of the Preventive Service- share the same spotlight.

Captain Taffrail*s sense of justice and eloquence could easily match any Jig. 2.— W. West*s toy theatre print for a hornpipe in Act II, Scene ii, The Pilot. dated April 18, 1828. The Victoria and Albert Museum. OSUTC film No. 1716*. zk of the tars in Fit shall's other plays, as demonstrated in the following speech:

There is nothing so agreeable to me in life, as to punish the rascal who is base and mean enough, for his own paltry ends, to rob his native country of its due, or the equitable trademan of his just right, and the lawful earnings of his honest industry. (11, ii)

Except for this deviation in the central nautical character, the play is quite standard in the expression of nautical and other sentiments. The I battle line between the King's men and the enemy (in this case, the

smugglers) is clearly drawn as in any other nautical play worthy of its name.

The Flvjpf pnt-^r«r. which is more akin in atmosphere and treat­ ment to the Gothic melodrama in the vein of FranVawstein- than to other nautical pl&ys is included in the group mainly because of its other

ingredients. Its contribution to Fitzball*s long list of popular seamen

lies in an incidental character named Tom Willis, who, after rendering

the traditional service of rescuing a woman in distress, dispLays his

knowledge of the sea-language:

Ay, ay, my press lasst tuck yourself under my arm and if that old chap dare to clap his grappling-irons athwart your mizen again, down goes his topmast. (II, iv)

This leads us to the famous stock situation of the Jolly Jack Tar. He is

always ready to pop in at the last minute of the scene either to save a

woman from a distressing situation or to rescue a comrade from the

clutches of the enemy. Figure 3 reproduced from another West toy theatre I print dated March 25* 1829, depicts the moment when Fid interferes with

the mutineers who are ready to pitch Homespun the comic tailor into the

sea (II, i). ■ '' *■» /Vim/ W.irtMs'*/ iT fci.A 5fr'tV/>./ift u i iTtiiiyji r*Tir*T

Fig, 3,~W, West*s toy theatre print for a rescue scene in Act II, Scene i. The Red Rover, dated March 25, 1829, The Victoria and Albert Museum, OSUTC Film No, 1716*, N> 26

In the hands of Fitzball, the Jolly Jack Tar became a stock character, full of virtue and noble sentiments, deadly to the eneay but friendly to the officers and the womenfolk. In T, P. Cooke, the ninor stage found an inimitable sailor actor, whose most iaportant roles up to the tiae he first appeared in The Pilot in 1825 bad been in the vein of blue-fire Gothic aonsters such as Frankenstein* It was quite by accident

that Fitzball turned to adapting Cooper* s popular sea novel The Pilot for

the stage upon Cooke* s suggestion**^ The result turned out to be aost

satisfactory* One conteaporary reviewer had this to say about his

acting:

Mr* T* P* Cooke plays a sailor in a very extraordinary way: there is probably not another actor on the stage who could play the saae character— Toa Coffin [as] it stands in the novel— with any thing like the saae effect*^ I Of the four roles— long Toa Coffin, Fid (Fig* *0, Jack Sykes, and

Venderdecken— Cooke was best known as Long Coffin and F i d ; ^ by 1829,

he was already a well-established favorite in the minor theatres. But

this was only the beginning of his long nautical career as we shall see

in the later chapters*

Upon hearing Cooke reconaended himself to play the role of a sailor, Fitzball reflected: "That was no recomendation to gg, as I had never seen Cooke play a sailor; and I thought it impossible to eclipse Gallot as Jade Junk in the aforesaid *Floating Beacon*" (Fitzball, I, 137-38).

11The Times. November 3. 1825, p. 3.

'^’S'itzball thought that this was Cooke *s "very best" performance (Fitzball, I, 195). 27

.V C r. P. t'ookt. -— - tis Pit/. ■— . h thr fittf Rpvrr. -

BdtKn/miMttvA .5 tfitv.bv !£#>.»/,atki* JhHttrieuI Aw»/ITityiU m / , c/7. MrrA Slrttt,fyp*jl/t tht Strand,

Fig. ^.--W. West*s toy theatre print of T. P. Cooke as Fid in The Red Rover, dated March 3* 1829. The British Museum. OSUTC Film No. 1461A*. 28

Othar actors in the naval entourage, Gallot as Jack Junk (Fig*

5 ) ^ and Tates as Red Rover (Fig* 6),1**" were also well known*

The Melodramatic Structure and the Nautical Situation

The plot of a typical Fitzball play usually contains a melo­ dramatic structure and a nautical situation* We shall discuss these plays under respective headings*

The melodramati c structure

Since this was an age of melodramas, structurally, the nautical plays night be expected to follow the format of the prevailing vogue*

In most of the cases, in the center of the plot is a hidden crime,

committed long ago, in which the legitimate heir to a large estate who was abducted, is now an impoverished orphan or a seaman in the navy*

Since the moral of most of these melodramas is to uphold legitimacy and

see virtue triumph, the nautical plays of Fitzball might be expected to

end happily with the destruction of the villains* Occasionally, the {lot

deals with events of a less violent nature: separation of an infant

from its wealthy parents through natural disasters (shipwrecks of course)

and the inevitable reunion of the family* Retelling of these stories

would be a thankless job and rather uninteresting; the following brief

summaries are included here because the similar patterns in these pLays

could not otherwise be meaningfully demonstrated*

13 In a revived production at the same theatre (Surrey), Gallot "was encored in his Hornpipe, which he executed truly characteristic of a British tar" (The Theet-rft**-*1 Observer. February 2, 1825)* 14 "Tates* Red Rover is a very spirited performance, indeed the best original character in which we have seen him" (The London Literary Gazette. February 14, 1829, p* 114)* 29

M¥ r.AI.f.nt M .»Af« J'*'* - ' *««•"/ A,. «’ » ■* »*«»

Fig. 5.--W. West's toy theatre print of Gallot as Jack Junk in The Floating Beacon, dated October 20, 1830, The British Museum, OSUTC Film N, 1461A*. 1

30

J* YWIM- MO. - M M M m m . '

Jtn^ /U'l| tU U T. HnMwlfhMMim

Fie. Woat'o toy thoatro print of Ittoi 1 1 tho Rod Bofiri dotod Koreh 3, 1829. Tho Ylotorla and Albort M aa o m OSUTC m o No* 1716*. 3 1 The orphan Frederic, saved from a watery grave sixteen years ago, I now ventures to enquire about his parenthood; to his dismay, he learns that his father was murdered by Angerstoff, a convict assigned to trim the beacon light on a floating vessel, and his mother, now quite insane, has been kept as a mistress by Angerstoff all these years. Such is the

story of The FloaM w y fftmcon. the outcome of which is, of course, pre­ dictable. Before the inevitable recognition scene with his mother,

frederic undergoes some mental agony, expressing noble feelings of

forgiveness:

Alas, alast wherefore should I curse her. No, not though unparalleled adversity hath sunk her to the wretch's bitterest portion, her soul may still be unstained and pure as mountain icel (II, ii)

In The Pilot. Col. Howard learns that Capt. Barnstable, whom he

has just consigned to the -arm because of the letter's courtship with

his ward Kate, is his long-lost son. Capt. Barnstable, of course, lives

to be re-united with his sweetheart and his father. In The Inchcape

SOI, the abducted legitimate heir, the Dumb Sailor-Boy, is duly restored

to his rightful place through the repentance and confession of his

illegitimate brother, G uy Ruthven. In The Red Rover. Lieutenant Wilder,

whom Fid and Guinea have brought up all by themselves, turns out to be of

noble birth after all; and a heart-warming reunion scene between the

mother and the son duly follows. Passion for restoration of the legit­

imate among the low class people who frequented the minor theatres could

not have had any better manifestation than in these plays of Fitzball.

If Nelson; or the Life of a Sailor is the only piece that escapes the

fate of this type of melodramatic structure it is because such contrivance

would be difficult to get away with in the face of history. However, the 32 I result of abandoning the familiar structure vas not happy for Fitzball: the {day ends up in chaos. One contemporary critic complained after seeing the performance:

The events of the life of Lord Nelson might have been more judiciously selected, and strung together; at present, they are a of incongruities and inconsistencies.15

So mud: for Fitzball* s dramaturgy.

The nautical situation

Another unique structural feature of these nautical plays is the story of the tortuous journey of the lovers. This story could be either independent of or related to the main melodramatic situation. Except in

Nelson, in which Jack Sykes, the central nautical character, is also the lover of the nautical situation, the Jolly Jack Tar usually plays the role of a good Samaritan in clearing up the obstacles that confront the lovers. Jack Junk helps Frederic find out about the origin of his birth so that he can be united with Christine. Long Tom Coffin toils for the happiness of Capt. Barnstable and Lt. Griffin. So does Fid for Lt.

Wilder. I The lc?er£ are usually frustrated by a disapproving guardian such as Col. Howard in The Pilot, and the situation is usually complicated by an unwelcome suitor such as Capt. Boroughcliff in the same play, who provides opportunities for some horseplay with Long Tom Coffin. In The

Red Rover, the romance between Lt. Wilder and Gertrude is threatened by the pirate named in the title. In Nelson. Jack Sykes has a rival in

15 The Theatrical Observer. November 22, 1827* Peter Fledge, a tedious shopkeeper. Even in Pie Flyinp pntahm«n. the love affair between Mowdrey and Lestelle Is complicated by two unsought suitors, one of which is a ghostI Thus, the triangular love affair seems to be another necessary ingredient In a typical Fitzball nautical play.

In passing, we should notice that rivalry in love, with some variation in the components of the triangle, was to remain a predominant feature in the plays that followed Fitzball* s. It is undeniable that Fitzball exercised some very important influence in the structure of the later nautical dramas.

The Nautical Spectacle

If in the above analysis we find the stories of the nautical dramas insipid, characterizations somewhat one-dimensional and flat, and dramaturgy awkward, we must remember that these plays were the product of

the time. They were to a great extent ready made commodities for a class

of people eager to seek self-identification and moral conformity. In

Fitzball* s Jolly Jack Tars, who are defenders of the country, upholders

of justice and equality, and pinnacles of virtue, the of low

class people found the crystalized glory of the past and the promise of

the future never-never land. We have maintained that the nautical drama

was meant essentially for the common folk, for the unsophisticated. If

it tried to meet the limited horizon of their mentality and moral char­

acter by manufacturing lovable nautical characters and stories of the

virtue-triumphant variety, its other lure was even more direct in

appealing to the illiterate. It offered spectacular nautical scenes in

which all the stage facilities of these minor theatres were put to use. A nautical scene in a Fitzball* s play may be roughly defined as a scene in which a ship or several ships are Involved in some kind of maneuvering*

The meaning should be dear to us after the detailed analysis that follows*

We need not dwell too long on the general staging practice

Involving non-nautieal scenes in Fitzball* s naval plays* The production chart (Chart I) of the two most famous plays reveals the fact that the most predominant scenes are usually the nautical scenes which occupy the entire stage. Scene changes still follow the traditional method of alternating one or two shallow ("carpenter") scenes with a deep scene*

The early nineteenth century stage was still very much the same border- wing-flat stage of the seventeenth century* and the minor stages were no exception*

k cursory glance at the scene description of the shallow and medium scenes would indicate that these were probably all stock scenery used over and over again in the other plays of the theatre (the Adelphi, I in this case). Stock scenery could only be of routine interest although we have evidence that its general quality must have been quite good*

Contemporary reviews and other sources usually praise the Adelphi Theatre

for the artistic beauty in its productions during this period*^ For

instance* it was reported that "in the summers of 1814 and 1815* in

The Times, for instance* had this to say about the production aspect of Jacob: the Bravo: "The scenery is remarkably well painted* and by means of certain mechanical arrangements is made to produce effects which* considering the very limited space of the theatre, could hardly have been looked for • • •" (February 12* 1833* p* 3)» 35

CHART I

PRODUCTION CHART FOR THE PILOT AND THE RED ROVER

TJrpe of Play Scene Scene Description Grooves Label Scene

The I i A View of the Ocean off the Full-stage Deep Pilot American Coast, with Rocks running into the Sea; a Ship and Schooner sailing in the distance, C«

ii A Room in the Colonel1s House 1 Shallow

iii Another Apartment in the 2 or 3 Medium Colonel*s House— a large Balcony, C.

iv The D^ck of the Ariel, with Full-stage Deep the Shrouds and Masts manned as in a Storm at Sea

II i Between Decks 2 Medium

ii A Dining Room in the Colonel*s 1 Shallow House

iii A Court adjoining the Colonel*s Full-stage Deep House i

III i Another View of Katharin*s 2 or 3 Medium Apartment

ii A Rocky Pass near the Sea 1 Shallow

iii The Ruins opening to the Sea, Full-stage Deep with the Ariel lying in the distance 36

CHART I (contd.)

Play Scene Scene Description Grooves T^pe of Label Scene

iv A Cabin in the Ariel with 2 Deep Windows to open in the Flat

V A Room of State at the 1 Shallow Colonel's

vi The Quarter Deck of the Full-stage Deep Alacrity

&s& I i An Ancient Harbour from the Full-stage Deep Rover Town of Newport

ii Ruins of a Mill and Sea View 2 Medium

iii Sea Coast 1 Shallow

iv Broadside Section of the Red Full-stage Deep Rover's Vessel, lying at anchor, and distant View of Newport Harbour, by Moonlight

II 1 The Main Deck of the Rover's Full-stage Deep Vessel— Cannons placed through the Port-holes, R. and L* 37 consequence of the alteration and enlargement of the stage, fifty new suits of scenery vere painted. ' » But no other scene in a nautical drama codld rival the nautical scenes in excellence or in the excitement they brought to the audience.

Usually there were several nautical scenes in a play, but the grand finale excelled all others in spectacle. In the curious logic of the nineteenth -century minor stages, the melodramatic structure and the nautical entanglement all culminated in the outcome of the grand finale of a nautical exhibition. After much suspense and excitement, the villains were destroyed in some kind of nautical operation; peace was restored and the audience felt temporarily allayed in their indignition against the miseries of their existence and could face the next day* s drudgery with greater resignation.

Since almost every nautical scene introduces some unique features of its own in staging, we will discuss each scene of Fitzball* s nautical plays at some length in the chronological order of their initial productions. Playbills, newspapers, magazines, Fitzball*s memoirs, pictorial materials, etc., will be introduced to provide some insight into the original productions of these scenes. Reconstructions are

attempted when evidence clearly warrants such endeavors. In order to

preserve the flow of narration on the development of the nautical scenes

and to prevent the unnecessary intrusion of materials not immediately

related to the topics at hand, discussion on special nautical machinery

will be deferred until Chapter Four.

17A clipping (dated 1826) found in OSUTC Film No. 1443*. The Floating Beacon: or. the Norwegian Seekers The Surrey Theatre April 19, 182^

There are two nautical sets in this play, one of which is used three times*

The scene description for I, i states:

The Sea*-Coast at Bergen, with Boats and shipping in the distance--a Cottage* R.S.E.— a small Public-House, the sign of the Ship, L*S*E.— A practicable Boat near the Shore L*H*

This is what we might call a stationary nautical scene, in which nothing special happens, as far as staging is concerned, after the raising of the curtain* The only thing worth mentioning is a phrase found in a IQ Sadler*s Wells playbill dated May 10, 182^* The playbill refers to the opening as a "Panoramic View of Bergen*" The action in the scene and prompt notes give no indication that any panorama was necessary or was used; but a broader interpretation of the term "panoramic view" might

conceivably include the possibility of using some moving panoramic

device at the beginning of the scene for pictorial interest* Beyond

that, there is not much to go on* Figure 7 is a reproduction of M*

Skelt*s toy theatre print for the back piece of this scene*

1, iii; II, ii; and II, iv; all use the following setting, which

was the only other deep scene in the play:

The Deck of the Floating Beacon— a mast with rigging, from which is suspended the lighted lanterns * * * casks, ropes, etc*— a glass door, L.U.E., opening into the cabin.

18 Finsbury Public Libraries Sadler*s Wells Playbill Collection* OSUTC Film No. 1522B*. MKBLT'H S.-mrsm A t FLOATDO BKACO^. fiarl- ,»t /

fncs aaf i’MshU h * SKM.t U ifcwrM L*mJ.+

Fig. ?•— M. Skelt*s toy theatre print for the backpiece of Act I, Scene i f The Floating Beacon, undated. The Victoria and Albert Museum. OSUTC Film No. 1715*.

VjJ vo 40

The above-mentioned playbill also states: "In this Scene [I, iii] is completely transferred into the Interior of a Vessel, with Cordage,

Rigging, etc. so as to give an exact idea to the audience of the cir­ cumstances represented." The same setting is used for three different moods: In I, iii, the set is "lighted up during a storm"; in II, ii, it is used with a "Rocky Coast" backing to show the deck after a storm; and in II, iv, the deck is in the moonlight and is finally destroyed by fire. The most interesting of these three scenes is the last one, in which the ship takes fire. Unfortunately the prompt notes do not offer us much information regarding the staging:

Enter Jack and Followers R.S.E. They fire— Angers toff and his party are killed— the vessel is fired— Jack Junk and his party give three cheers, and the Eagle Sloop comes in sight, with Weignstadt, Christine, etc.

Figure 8 is a reproduction of Skelt* s undated toy theatre print for this

scene. Its relationship to actual theatrical productions is of an

unknown quality, but it does offer some suggestions for the possible

staging of the scene'. The smoke and fire are apparently coming from the

hold, which in practical stage terms means the central trap. The deck is

curbed by rails on both sides of the stage; at the back of the stage is

the set piece for the poop and the cabin. Water is seen all around the

ship. On the stage right, the top of a sail, presumably that of the

Eagle Sloop, is visible. Lloyd*s toy theatre print (Fig. 9)» also

undated, shows two set pieces for this scene— one for the Eagle Sloop

with six passengers and the other for the. cabin and the poop, above it.

From Figure 8, it seems that the ship is backed by cloud and sea flats.

The mechanics involved in the staging of the water effect as well as

creating the illusion of sailing on stage will be discussed in Chapter

Four. 1 SKKLT’H •». A. M .( U T I 5 « BBAC'OTT

fjuiu*. u .«»*•/ r n >• - >*../ nu,

Fig* 8.— M* Skelt*s toy theatre print for Act II, Scene iv, The Floating Beacon. undated* The Victoria and Albert Museum* OSUTC Film No* 1715** I.l.o\, fjV!('SrKSEIl n -) T>u -0'-"" 3*5**7* X*7

Fig* 9*~“M. & M. Skelt's toy theatre print for set pieces in The Floating Beacon. undated. The Victoria and Albert Museum* OSUTC film No* 1715** ^3 The Pilot. The Adelphi Theatre October 31» 1825

The two nautical scenes which employ the entire stage are differ­ ent in nature and worth our attention. The scene description of I, iv, runs as follows:

The Deck of the Ariel, with the shrouds and masts manned as in a storm at-sea.— On every side the ocean dreadfully agitated; thunder and lightning, mixed with the whistling of the wind.

The dialogue used in this scene is extremely seaman-like. A few lines will show the urgency of the situation:

Pilot: Stand by your sheets; heave away that lead) Long Tom Coffin: Ay, ay I sir I By the mark seven.. Pilot: *Tis well— try it again. Long Tom Coffin: Quarter-less fiveI Barnstable: She shoals— she shoals«— keep her a good fullI Pilot: Aht You must hold the vessel in command now.

A few minutes later, the stage is alive with a«: ..on:

(They let loose the mainsail, etc.; men pull it up by force.) Pilot: She feels it. (Crash— jib blows) Quarter-master, come to the helm. (Tom goes to the helm, the Pilot to the bow— they con her for some time.) Silence, all. Now, gentle­ men, we shall soon know our fate; let her luff;— luff you cant (Going to the helm.) Hard a weather with your helm! (Dead pause.) Ease off all your sheets, and square away. She*s safe! She’s safe! (Noise and confusion here in excess.— Darkness and the rush of waters.— The vessel clears the shoal.) Pilot: All*s well— all*s well; the wind abates; the danger is past. (Shout huzza.)

Unfortunately information from the prompt notes is incomplete. In this

case, we are fortunate to have a first-hand account of the effect of this storm scene from The Times a few days after the opening of the play:

There is a storm scene of a new character extremely ingenious and effective. The water, which is shown in a state of violent agitation, extends from the back of the house immediately down to the lamps, and upon this sea, which fills the full k k

breadth as well as depth of the stage, a large boat, capable of holding ten or a dosen men, is seen maneuvering in the tempest, with Mr. Terry, Mr. Yates, Mr. Cooke, and four or five other persons actually on board. The whole contest of the vessel with the storm, the furling and setting of differ­ ent sails, and the cries and exertions of the crew, all are given with peculiar verisemblance and spirit,— the scene, in fact, lasts ten minutes, during which time not a word of dia­ logue is spoken, and yet it does not become tiresome.19

We learn a few facts about the original staging of this scene: (l) the

water which filled every part of the stage actually came down to the ..i footlights; (2) the entire action took place in a large boat (capacity:

ten to twelve people) with seven or eight actors in it; (3) realistic

furling and setting of sails was effected; and (4) no dialogue was spoken

during the entire scene which lasted ten minutes.

The last item contradicts sharply the script just quoted. Since

the reviewer is so specific on this point, we have no choice but take his

word for it. As all the editions have one and a half pages of dialogue

in this scene, the only explanation is that the dialogue was added when

the script went to press in order to compensate the reader for the

complete loss of the visual enjoyment of the scene. Common sense would

tell us that amidst the realistic storm, thunder, whistling of the wind,

and cries and yelling off stage, the intelligibility of any dialogue Oft would have been very low. Besides, revising the promptbooks for

printing purposes was by no means unusual at that time; we shall see

another such example later.

19 The Times. November 3. 1825, p. 3. 20 The dialogue in this scene, especially the part about maneuver­ ing the ship, is largely Fitzball*s own. Tom, who is given an important role in bringing the ship to safety, has no part in the original novel. See J. F, Cooper, The Pilot: A Tale of the Sea (New York: Charles Wiley, 1823), chap. iv. Dyer Senior's toy theatre print for this scene (Fig. 10) seems to have cone quite d o s e to the description* Eight persons are seen maneuvering the ship in the storm*

III* vi, which the scene description simply designates as "The

Quarter Deck of the Alacrity," constitutes another stirring nautioal finale* The exciting part of the scene comes from the fighting which takes place near the end*

A shot is fired into the cutter* which carries away part of her rigging, and wounds the Officer* Cry without, "The Ariel! the Ariel! "

Tom fights with his harpoon— -Barnstable takes a sword— a broad­ side is poured in* the Ariel comes in sight— Enter on board the Pilot.

Figure 11 reproduced from West's toy theatre print dated April 17* 1828, t depicts this particular moment of conflict. The sailor in the center attacking an American officer is unmistakably T* P. Cooke* even though he is using a pistol and a sword instead of a harpoon* There is no reason to doubt the authenticity of the print as an actual drawing from the theatre at an actual performance even when we are confronted with the lateness of the date* The Pilot became so popular that undoubtedly 21 numerous performances of it were given between 1825 and 1828* We have little to go on regarding "The Quarter Deck of the Alacrity*" Consider­ ing the fact that a combat involving a dozen or more people takes place on the deck* we would think that more room was needed than the large boat in I* iv. It would seem that when the scene opens the entire stage

f*or instance, mention or review of the play between 1825 and 1828 at the Adelphi is found in The Theatrical Observer on the following days: November 1, 1825; November 2, 1825; November 8, 1825; November 25* 1825; December 8, 1825; February 1, 1826* March 6* 1826; October 11, 1826; February 26, 1828; November lOt, 1828; and December 2* 1828* DVEIl SBN»* GrtJcem inffit/7 P IL0O T

J f y / i t j f a m r & / M s •/■** J 't

fy D rs/i St:tr* Jt Itersrt Crej.tnt flatter, Xn tT ’trft

Fig* 10.— Dyer Senior*s toy theatre print for Act I, Scene iv, ffha pilot, dated March 11, 1828. The Victoria and Albert Museum. OSUTC film No. 1716*. ^7 is supposed to represent the quarter-deck of the Alacrity* The scenic arrangement for this scene must have been similar to II, i, of Ihe Red

Rover: for West*s toy theatre print (Fig* 12) is supposedly meant for both scenes* We will notice that this scene is actually no different from the last scene in The Floating Beacon (Fig* 8)* The Ariel comes in either from stage right or stage left*

The Theatrical Observer terms the scenery of the opening night, 22 "beautiful." It must have been gratifying for the Adelphi management to read the following review when Covent Garden finally produced;it five years later:

We have always objected to importations from the Minor Theatres, and in this case most certainly the change is any­ thing but an advantageous one; it was quite as well played at the Adelphi, and the storm scene had infinitely more terrific effect.**

The Flying Dutchman The Adelphi Theatre December 5» 1826

Our inclusion of The Flying Dutchman. a play which Fitzball him­

self considered by no means "behind even Frankenstein, or Per Frescbutz

itself in horrors and blue fire,"2^ in this group is largely because of

the two unique nautical scenes it contains. I, iii, is described as

. The Ship1s Deck, with set waters, and setting sun— kegs, trunks, and coil of rope on stage— dark clouds progressively rising* Thunder*

22The Theatrical Observer. November 1, 1825.

2^Ihe Theatrical Observer. November 23, 1830, 2 k Fitzball, I. 169. 'h,ir.„ter.\. w the PILOT* flub t>*~ fnet II/Uet.

fig. 11.— W. West’s toy theatre print for Act III, Scene vi, The Pilot, dated April l?t 1828. The Victoria and Albert Museum. OSUTC film No. 1718*.

£ F a h h fh tii, .‘/<:n. -1 hu fl'.ilt » '.i’-'-iiI Print tCarthrnn fm tht Phimplr Thrntrf. .I/tumi/ —

Fig# 12.--W# West toy theatre print for Act III, Scene vi, The Red Rover, dated May 1829# The British Museum# OSUTC film No. 1461 A*. Very shortly after the scene opens, the prompt notes read

Music— thunder and lightning— the setting sun and warm sky descend, and black clouds rise in its place— stage dark.

Music— Sailors throw out a rope at the side of the vessel [back of the stage], hauling in Vanderdecken. who appears like a drowning seaman— the Crew assist him on board.

When the sailors refuse to be taken in, Vanderdecken becomes furious

and plays a trick on a sailor who attempts to snap a letter from his

hand. The letter explodes (one prompter footnotes the method: "by a

pistol fire under it"). Now the climax of the scene is near:

A Ka-ijinr is about to seize Vanderdecken. who elides his grasp and vanishes through the deck— Tom Willis and Von Swiees. L. both fire at Vanderdecken. but hit the Sfft1 or- who falls dead on the de ck— Vanderde oken. with a demoniac laugh, rises from the sea in blue fire, amidst violent thunder— at that instant the Phantom Ship appears in the distance, the Crew in con­ sternation exclaim "The Flying Dutchman," tableau.

An undated promptbook based on an acting edition tells us how the dis­

appearance and reappearance of Vanderdecken are effected:

Two trap bell to take down Vanderdecken and send him up on long trap.

As for the phantom ship, Lacy* s edition has an engraving that seems to

depict the above-mentioned tableau (Fig. 13). The secret of the staging

of the phantom ship is recorded in Fitzball*s memoirs. Terry, the

manager at the Adelphi Theatre, figured that the construction of such a

ship in real timber would cost him£ 200. Our author, proud of his

knowledge in the technical department, begged to differ with his employer.

We will let the author tell his own story:

"But what would you compose it, sir!" *!A shadow." "A shadow?" laughing incredulously. "Yes. Purchase a few of union (a sort of glazed calico), darken the scene by turning off the gaz, then, 51

Z%t dicing Bvtclman.

T hi Cbiw. The Flying Dutchman!

Act I. Scene 3.

Fig. 13*— Frontispiece in Dicks* Standard Plays edition, depicting a moment in Act I, Scene iii, The Flying Dutchman. undated. The Victoria and Albert Museum. OSUTC Film No. 1329. 52 while your Invisible chorus, rendered invisible by the dark­ ness. sing their chorale, draw off the flats, and Mr, Child, a gentleman that I can re contend to you, will throw, with his magic lantern, on the invisible union, a better nhawtoM ship than all the ships carpenters in Woolwich Dockyard could build, with Peter the Great to assist then," Terry looked amazed— convinced. Child was sent for. The result is known. At this moment [1859] the "Flying Dutchman" has been acted at the least ten thousand times; and, but for the practical knowledge of its author, would, to all intents and purposes, have been d— d the first night . . , ,25

The point of his story is most interesting: it reveals how much the success of his nautical drama hinged upon some clever, novel scenic devices.

The finale of this piece is also of some nautical interest. The scene takes place in the

Interior of the Devil*s cave; an overhanging rock, L.2,E,, leading into the cave; a rock in the centre, resembling an antique altar, and large book dosed, I This altar is apparently to be placed on a trap, because after Varnish has burned the magic book which nullifies Vanderdecken*s nocturnal powers, the prompt notes read:

Vanderdecken goes behind the Rock table • • • and sinks with the altar, amidst thunder and flames of red fire.

From then on, the escape of the good people in the play from this devil1 s

cave becomes nautical.

Exeunt Mowdrey and Lestelle the ill-starred lovers hastily R,2,E«; and they all appear on an eminence of rock, R.U.E, Mowd, Alas, there is no hopeI Hark, harki the torrent is rushing down on us, Seei seel Assistance is at hand— helpl helpl helpl

At this point, the prompt notes instruct everybody to wave handkerchiefs,

excepting Varnish who waves his torch. There is a cue for music.

25Fitzball, II, 13-U, 53

Agitated waters rush furiously into the cave, entirely covering the stage to the orchestra— -tho sound of the gong, and loud peals of thunder heard— a Pilot. Von Bummel. with a torch; Pepper coal etc,, appear in a sloop from the very back— they cone under the rock, R.U.E., and receive Lestelle. Mowdrey. and Varnish, aboard— sails are hoisted, with British flag, and as the cutter turns round to return[,] shout, "Hussal "— crash, gong, and thunder, until the curtain falls.

The arrangement of various scenic elements and the positions of some of the actors at the time of the rescue are well preserved in a frontispiece found in Green* s adaptation of the play for children dated 1847 (Fig, 14),

The Green script follows closely the original arrangement of scene divisions (thirteen scenes) and the story line. Since the frontispiece was intended to "explain the position of the characters at the fall of the curtain," one might surmise that the engraver must have some actual theatrical performance in mind. The closeness of the engraving to the original prompt notes seems to warrant the conjecture that the engraving may have been copied from a drawing of an actual theatrical performance as was sometimes done during this period.

The staging of this scene in the later revivals both in England and the United States seems to have become quite standard. Two mid-

nineteenth- cent \uy American promptbooks based on printed playscripts have more or less similar notations on this scene, aside from underlining

the original prompt notes.

Thunder, lightning & gong. Send on boat R.U.E. Thunder gong, etc, till curtain, (George Becks, undated)

Lightning— gong etc. Send on Sloop, Red Fire and Curtain, (John Procter, 1853)

The popularity of such a poorly structured story supported by some

rather uninteresting characters must have relied solely upon these two Fig. 14.--Green*s toy theatre print for the last scene in The Plving Dutfthmnn. undated. __ The Victoria and Albert Museum. OSUTC Film No. 1111. A-

55

scenes of nautical nature. To the modern reader, the fascination with

such a childish display as a simple lantern projection of a ship on a

screen and the maneuvering of a wooden boat on canvas water may be some­

what incomprehensible, but we must remember that the use of lantern

projection in theatrical production was a novelty at that time. The

idea was new to the veteran manager Terry as well as The Theatrical 1 Observer critic:

The supernatural appearance of The Phantom Ship, in the flying Dutchman, is, we understand effected by Hr. Childe (sic), the optician, on an entirely new principle never before attempted in scenic effect. It has been repeated with encreased effect.2®

Ve may want to question the critic*s knowledge of this science since the

principle of lantern projection certainly was not new in 1826, but his

claim about its novelty in scenic effect was probably true. We will I develop this point in another chapter. As for the turning around of the

boat and hoisting of the sails, it is not difficult to see how such

operations when coming as a surprise could be quite delightful. The

Theatrical Observer in another review seems to have summed up the case

of The Flving rather accurately:

The Flying Thitnhuw. notwithstanding the absolute want of dramatic consistency and interest in its story, the lameness of its jokes, and the comedy of its pathos, is a vehicle for some excellent scenery, and superb melodramatic acting on the part of Mr. T. P. Cooke.2/

It should be mentioned that Cooke relapsed into his demonic role in this

play and served in a mute capacity.

26 The Theatrical Observer. December 8, 1826.

2^Ihe Theatrical Observer. December 22, 1826. ' M ’

5 6 Nelson: or. the Life of a Sailor The Adelphi Theatre November 19* 1827

The playscript available for this study Is a revised and much

condensed version of the original production. Many improbable Incidents

and ludicrous characters which one reviewer sarcastically termed 2g "creatures of the author*s brain" have been deleted, but the play still

does not read any better. The play as it stands today has only two

nautical scenes, while the original production must have had three more

(battles of Cape St. Vincent, the Nile, and Copenhagen).^ The first

nautical scene is described as

I, v.— -The Bay of Santa Cruz from rock in foreground. Background represents fortress in heights, a rough sea beneath, with Mole running off R.H. Shots fired from port­ holes at back of scene as a vessel passes from U.E.R.H.; her sails appear damaged by the shots, which are returned by her; cannonading kept up through scene. A short time after opening scene, a line of Spanish Soldiers enter I.E.L.H. The English Marines enter U.E.R.H., they exchange fire, and Spanish Soldiers are driven off, L.Bi.

Nelson and his followers enter; and shortly afterwards

bells of fortress heard ringing, the vessel is aground; battle raging; a shot is fired, R.H., which strikes Nelson, he is wounded.

The rest of the scene consists of some patriotic speeches from the

agonized Nelson. The only interesting point about the staging is the

grounded boat and its subsequent sinking. In practical stage terms, it

means that the vessel after rolling up and down a few times has to be

partially or entirely taken down on a long trap. In the frontispiece of

28 The Times. November 20, 1827, P- 2.

2^The Times. November 20, 1827, p. 2; The Theatrical Observer. November 20, 1827. the printed script (Fig. 15). depicting the moment when Jack Sykes dresses

Nelsons wound, the ship is seen on their right side. How much artistic license the engraver has taken with the real theatrical production is difficult to estimate. Jack Sykes bears no resemblance to T. P. Cooke who played the original role, and we have no record whether the play was ever revived.

The other nautical spectacle, supposedly the re-enactment of the famous battle of Trafalgar, in which Nelson received his fatal wound, takes place on

The Quarter-deck of the Victory, ready for action (as in print.) Guns at port-holes, and the discharges marked during scene by flashes of red fire, etc. At the opening of the scene action begins— Nelson in centre, ascends the poop with telescope, looks out, descends, returns to front of stage giving orders, when a ball strikes him, and he falls— Jack raises him— Picture.

The reference to the opening of the scene "as in print" is not clear. It could be a print of that event well-known to the author and the prompter; it could also mean that through the printer's negligence, a print of some kind was not included in the printed script. Since the scene is desig­ nated as "the Quarter-deck of the Victory" with an ascendable poop (or practicable platform), we might assume that the set must have been

similar to the last scene in The Pilot (Fig. 12). If the primary purpose

of publishing an acting edition with ample prompt notes is to provide

other theatre managers in the country with the "correct" version for

revivals, the deletion of the other three nautical battles in the

printed script may be considered judicious. These battles all taking 59

Fig. 15.— Frontispiece in Dicks' Standard Plays edition of Nelson; or. the Life of a Sailor, depicting a moment in Act I. Scene iv, undated. 59 place in the open seas naturally tend to be repetitious.-^ Furthermore,

the difficulty involved in successively staging these nautical battles— working the sea-doth, moving the ships, precision firing of rockets,

etc,— must have been considerable and may very well not have always been within the ability of ail provincial theatres. Even the original pro­ duction at the Adelphi, which by that time had already earned a good 31 reputation for nautical scenery,'' was not unmarred by inexactitudes in machinery:

The scenery is good; but in consequence of the imperfect state of the machinery, as is often the case on first repre­ sentations, what were intended to be the most striking inci­ dents in the spectade, completely failed, particularly the explosion of L 1Orient, which was miserably bungled, and put the success of the thing altogether in great jeopardy.32

The explosion of L'Orient, which historically took place during the

Battle of the Nile on August 1, 1798,33 was one of the battle scenes

deleted in the playscript. We have good reason to believe that the

30 A juvenile version of the play published by Maunder (Victoria and Albert Museum; OSUTC Film No. 1051) seems to have based upon the original rather than the cut-down script. It has three acts and some of the ridiculous incidents (such as the pawnbroker promenading the icebergs of the Arctic seas in a pair of very wide and very short nankeen trousers; the skirmishes with the Esquimaux; etc.) mentioned in Tha 'j’imas review dated November 20, 1827* p. 2 and the advertisement in The Theatrical Observer. November 24, 1827. 31 Two days before its opening. The Theatrical Observer prophesied that the nautical burletta would give the proprietors "every opportunity for the effects which gained them so druch credit in their former produc­ tions of the same nature" (November 17, 1827). 32 Tha Timas. November 20, 1827, p. 2.

33see A. T. Mahan, The Life of Nelson (London: Sampson Low, ai-hl., 1897). I. 354. 60 difficulty on the first night performance was overcome in its subsequent repetitions, because the play mas still running two months lat e r , ^

The Inchcaoa Bell The Surrey Theatre Hay 26, 1828

▲gain, two nautical scenes compel our attention, U , ii, is designated as

a cavern opening to the sea, near the cape Rock— still moonlight— across a projecting timber, and directly over a d u m p of rocks, hangs the Inch cape Bell— this Bell is attached by a chain to a Floating Raft, which lies on the other side of the Cave, at the water's edge— an upright mast is embedded in the sand near it, Sampson appears, descending hastily but cautioudy R,U,E, The Raft is lifted up and down by the rising and receding of the tide, and the Bell rings softly,

Skelt's toy theatre print (Fig, 16) shows a cavern cut-put with two set pieces to be cut out. Aside from the bell, the wreck of a ship against a cliff is marked "for the Last Scene,M meaning II, iv. From what we can gather from the prompt notes and the scenery for the juvenile drama, the original production of this scene might be like this: the down stage

Area represents the inside of a cavern framed by the usual cavern wings and some practicable rocks for Sampson to d i m b about. Probably the cavern cut-out flats are found in the third grooves. Immediately behind these flats are rows of water, which in turn are backed by an ocean backdrop. The position of the Bell is not dear; it c o d d be on a pro­ jecting timber dose to the half mast, which is hidden by one of the legs of the cut-out piece (Fig, 16), The action of this scene consists of

Hans and his fellow smugglers* entrance in a boat "through the Cave,

3 4 The Theatrical Observer. January 18, 1828. ilTtiiCAKi; 11

Fig. 16,— M. Skelt*s toy theatre print for set pieces in Act II, Scene ii and Scene iv, The Inch cane Bell, undated. The Victoria and Albert Museum. OSUTC Film No. 1716*. 62

R.U.E." and his impious act of tearing off the rope which links the floating raft and the bell in order to tie Guy to the mast. Then Hans and others leave by boat, R.U.E*

The moon disappears, and the waves become more agitated-- Music— Guy attempts to climb the mast, but falls strengthless.

After a few suspenseful moments, he is saved by the good people in the play.

If this scene does not offer any spectacle to the audience, the author amply makes up for it in the finale. However, the scene descrip­ tion of II, iv, may not strike us as having anything more than of routine interest:

The Wreck of the Rover’s vessel on the Inchcape Rock, during a storm,— As the scene changes, a dreadful crash is heard.— Sailors clinging to the shrouds, &c,— Some of rigging falls.

By 1828, a ship-in-storm scene was no longer a novelty. The reference to "Rover’s vessel" is somewhat misleading because only a part of the vessel was presented in the scene. This is not the kind of storm scene as in I, v, of The Pilot, in which an entire ship is found foundering in the ocean. Skelt’s toy theatre prints (fig. 17) depicting the high light of the scene gives us some idea as to the arrangement of scene units. It is fundamentally no different from the quarter-deck scene in

The Floating Beacon (Fig. 8) and in The Pilot (Fig. 12). What makes the scene spectacular is the striking down by lightning of the mainmast, which drags three actors overboard, and their subsequent rescue. How

all this happens is briefly described by the prompters

Guy supports the Dumb Boy with one arm, and with the other he grasps the mast— Jupiter follows him. SMXVX'3 3C'£1T2J IXTTHt TFC E CAi'S 1>£?

Fig. 17.— M. Skelt’s toy theatre print for Act II, Scene iv, The Inchcape Bell. undated. The Victoria and Albert Museum. OSUTC Film No. 1716*.

V-OCJs 6it A boat is seen leaving the shore in the background, R. and crossing to L., just as Guy Ruthven, the Dumb Boy, and Jupiter are sinking with the mast, which is struck by a thunder bolt.

For want of further evidence, we can only surmise that the mainmast was probably made of two sections, held together by a latch of some sort; when the moment came, the latch was unfastened by some mechanism con­

trolled either through the side wings or from the flies. Since some I actor was grasping the mast before the thunder struck it, he could easily

guide the direction of its falling. The rescuing from the water is also depicted in Skelt*s toy theatre plate for characters (Fig* 18)•

The realistic presentation of this incident may be gathered from

the following law Athenaeum review:

The scenery is magnificent and representation of the Inch- cape Rock, Cavern, and Bell, with the deck of the Pirate Ship at anchor, & her subsequent wreck by foundering, with the loss of the mainmast by lightning, and the rescue of the dumb sailor boy and his protector, are all such as those who have witnessed similar horrors, might see with pleasure, as reviving the feelings of joy and pleasure at their escape from them . .

The Surrey Theatre apparently could compete with the Adelphi on its own

terms in nautical scenery.

The Red Rover The Adelphi Theatre February 9» 1829

The first nautical scene of this piece is described by the

prompter as

I, iv.~Broadside Section of the Red Rover*s vessel, lying at anchor, and a distant view of Newport, by moonlight.

35 The Athenaeum. June 4, 1828, p. 507. .y..//.» .y.,-//••* < .%/>#•/

/'/ / V /*'/ •*/' ,VM7/<./ *#//// ,V/< /.' /‘l¥rt A/'».*/w/«/ /#*. /.'!• /»•/.*/ >«» /»f

ivAt^N'nnv / U h h s h ♦. ■'«/ .*/ 'AAV.r // >uv.t >//>*•/ l.’frit'/Jt-1 /ftiU i'fi .

Fig. 18.---M. Skelt,s toy theatre print of characters for Act II. Scene iv, The Inchcape Bell, undated. The Victoria and Albert Museum. OSUTC No. 1716*.

v*nON \ g'

66

The frontispiece of the Cumberland edition (Fig* 19) depicting the

moment when Red Rover reveals to Lt. Wilder his true vocation, offers us

a glimpse of the scenic background* This is basically what we have

already seen in Figure 12* The down stage area representing the length

of the ship is probably flanked by the usual ship wings* On both sides

of the stage, masts with riggings, ropes, and other ship equipment must

have supplemented the ship side wings to increase the illusion of the

stage being one side of the ship* The Skelt*s toy theatre print (Fig*

20), somewhat crude in appearance, suggests the way property cannons

may have been arranged in actual representation of scenes of this nature*

At the beginning of the scene, the backing beyond the railing is a

distant view of Newport Harbour* But very shortly, a new development is

discovered on stage:

During the finale, the Rover paces to and fro-— the Sailors are pulling ropes, with all the preparations for sailing— the harbour and town of New Port receding with due panoramic effect— at the closing a boat is hoisted alongside the vessel, with Fid and Guinea, and luggage— the scene is completely full , of business as the drop falls*

Panoramas used in theatres for pictorial and transitional purposes

became quite common by 1829, and we shall discuss the technicality

involved in effecting the panoramic presentation in another chapter. The

presentation of this scene must have been rather impressive, because the

usually fastidious Londop frlterarv Gazette particularly singled out this

scene for comment:

The nautical scenery and machinery is, as usual here, perfect. The last scene of the first act, particularly, is as real a picture of a vessel getting under weigh, as the stage is capable, we should imagine, of producing*^

36The London Literary Gazette. February 14, 1829, p. 114. 6?

fc'. W. ftMrr, 5|, ffhc Urtj Hotott.

Fig. 19.— Frontispiece in Cumberland*s Minor Theatre edition of The Red Rover, depicting a moment in Act I, Scene iv, undated. New York Public Library. OSUTC Promptbook Np. 55^ • Fig# 20.--M. Skelt*s toy theatre print for Act I, Scene iv, The Red Rover, undated. The Victoria and Albert Museum. OSUTC film No. 1716*. /■ \ ■o

69

Again, what should bo noted here Is the reallstlo tendency the nautical

staging seemed to be acquiring* The panorama In this case was not

incidentally introduced, as the opening of The Floating Baa eon night

have been,^ for the purpose of quiet admiration and contemplation by

the audience; it was one of the many realistic scenic elements in the

scene, which is "completely full of business" in getting a vessel under

weigh*

The traditional finale also seems to start with a by now too

familiar deck scene:

II, 1* The Main Deck of the Hover* s vessel*— Cannons placed through the port-holes, R* and L*— A cabin door, R*C*, and L*C«, with ladders at the side of each to go above deck; mast rigging, etc*— A calm at sunrise*— The crimson flag on the platform, R.

The cabin doors at right and left and ladders on both sides have to be

practicable since they will be used throughout the scene* West*s toy

theatre print (Fig* 21), dated March 27, 1829, gives us some idea as to

the setting* It is no different from some of the scenes we have already

encountered* The prompt notes describe the moment as

Fid and Wilder wheel the cannon facing the Mutineers, who retreat into the cabins in confusion, while the Rover wields the match-torch over the touchhole*

The toy theatre print is as close to this description as can be desired,

and we have no reason to suspect that the sketch was not based upon an

actual performance of the original production* The subsequent event,

however, makes the scene the most spectacular nautical display we have

seen up to now* The ladies, Fid and others have just exited into the

jelly-boat and sailed into the wing*

37 Above, p. 38. WV.ji'p'!*, f'/m rttrfft%, In tht R b i i Kuvkm. / '/ / A ■> * *~

il # » * ’ j ‘ »..« T h r .it' i. Aut.' t* */ /*»•(,»» <*

Fig* 21*---W* West*s toy theatre print for Act II, Scene i, The Red Rover, dated March 27» 1829* The Victoria and Albert Museum* OSUTC film No* 1716*. -Nj o 71 The flames issue fro* the hatchway.— Re-enter the Crew from both cabins*— The ship is seen burning— she begins to sink with the Crew— some fall— some ascend the rigging* others struggling as the ocean overwhelms them.— Mast, rigging* and Crew* all sink with the vessel*— The Red Rover is seen com­ bating the waves* and at last meets his fate*— The Dart is seen at the back* with Lieutenant Wilder* Madam de Lacy* and Gertrude aboard* and Fid clinging outside the vessel* as the curtain descends*

West's rendering of this scene of the same date (Fig* 22) depicts the moment when explosion and fire starts to coma up from the hatchway (the central trap)* In comparing this engraving with Figure 21* we notice that some artistic license has been taken with the height of the poop

(above deck)* obviously to make it possible to show the heads of many people on it at the same time. One of the Dyer & Company toy prints 38 (Fig. 23) for this play* which Speaight dates as 1829* describes the moment when the water begins to dash in from all sides* The figure in the center with a pistol in his left hand is unmistakable Yates. The validity of the likeness of this gentleman in this engraving is borne

out by three other independent sources* namely, W. West's portrait dated March 3* 1829 (Fig* 6)* Cumberland's frontispiece (Fig. 19)* and

West's toy print (Fig* 21)* If we accept the hypothesis that Figure 23

is based on a drawing done at the Adelphi in 1829* the print does tell us

a few things about the staging of this scene* (1) A large number of

people (twenty-eight to be exact) are on the quarter-deck when the

sinking starts; (2) waves are seen rising in the front and pouring in

from stage left* while the water in the background remains relatively

^George Speaight, Juvenile Dramat Tha History of the English Tov Theatre (London: MacDonald & Co** 19*6), p. 216. Fig# 22.— W* West*s toy theatre print for Act II, Scene i, The Red Rover, dated March 27, 1829. The Victoria and Albert Museum. OSUTC Film No. 1716*. 'ntnlrrfanAr fl+mic

A l . % 1bVkRtrC" CS th*rs>4 f'r*rcrnt.E4u9 . f >h

Fig.. 23.— Dyer & Co.*s toy theatre print for Act II, Scene i, The Red Rover, dated 1829, by Speaight. The Victoria and Albert Museum. OSUTC Film No. 1716*. calm; and (3) a ship Is seen coming In to the background from stage left.

With these points in mind, coupled with the prompt notes quoted above, we will attempt a reconstruction of that particular moment on stage. It has already been pointed out that the railings on both sides, the stairways, and the platform representing the poop, are all practicable scene units.

When the explosion and fire burst out from the hatchway, located in the

central down stage area, the process of sinking begins. The waves, or

canvas water rows, possibly with gauze attached to them, begin to rise

from underneath the stage; in the midst of smoke, fireworks, and confu­

sion, some actors begin to unhinge sections of the railings hitherto

latched together and push them along with the property cannons towards

the spaces between wings, while others dash back and forth or climb up

the mast and riggings to simulate desperation and to attract the

audience’s attention away from the actors who have to help with staging

business. Sections of the floor across the entire stage, sometimes

called flaps, bridges, or sloats, begin to sink with a number of despair­

ing sailors on them; but two or three such traps are all we need to effect

the sinking. The one Red Rover stands on and the one the mainmast rests

on are required by the script. Another trap which carries the heaviest

belongs to the platform, which supports eight to ten people. We

would imagine that the rising of the water rows, the sinking of the

bridges and the large trap, and the bellowing of canvas and gauze water

from the wings, when done with precision and rapidity, could prove most

impressive to an astonished audience.

The vessel named Dart sailing in from the back does not have to

be anything mbre than a profile wood work, the likeness of which we have

already seen several times in other nautical plays. 75 Two other juvenile versions of this famous scene are found in

M. Skelt*s (Fig* 24) and Park*s toy print (Fig* 25)* According to

Spaeight, M. Skelt published between 1835 And 1837* while A[lexander]

Park published between 1867 and 1880*39 Aside from the lateness of the dates, the internal evidence also points to their unreliability as wit­ nesses to actual theatrical performances* They are at best modified copies from early prints* Park*s plagiarism, for instance, is undeni­ able* Five of the characters are copied directly from the 1829 West, print (Fig* 22); only the arrangement is reversed* The addition of the large bow on the left side not only confuses the sequence of the events but also makes the staging quite impossible at that point. As we have already pointed out, the stage hands would need the wing space to work with the waves and take in the unhinged railing pieces. Sloppy in his research on the appropriate early prints, the engraver is further guilty of being too lazy to read the original script. The Dart appears only after "all sink with the vessel" and Red Rover "meets his fate*" Further­ more, the Dart is supposed to be seen "at the back" not alongside the

sinking ship* At the latter position many of the crew could have been

saved if a collision between the two ships could be avoided, which

naturally would make the ending of the story pointless. M* Skelt*s print

suffers the same faults, but the engulfing waves in the foreground and

the smoke and fire coming out of the hold offer better staging possi­

bilities* As far as offering hints for reconstruction of the scene is

concerned, both M, Skelt and A* Park prints do not help at all; they

^Speaight, pp. 222-23* *»/• t‘*t • / \ h t. t. f it \U'*— \' ¥#«•*«»•*•

Fig. 24.--M. Skelt*s toy theatre print for Act II, Scene i. The Red Rover, dated ca. I867-8O by Speaight. The Victoria and Albert Museum. OSUTC Film No. 1716*. Fig. 25.— A Park*s toy theatre print for Act II, Scene i, ftie Red Rover, dated ca. 1835-37 by Speaight. The Victoria and Albert Museum. OSUTC film No. 1717. /V

78

rather tend to confuse the issue* For instance, the railings at that

particular moment when the waves begin to gush in should have been

unhinged to make the actual sinking of the entire deck feasible* The

point is that toy prints must be examined with utmost care before they

may be admitted to illustrate points in staging* Popular plays such as

The Red Rover must have had dozens of versions throughout the nineteenth

century, and only a few early versions may have anything to do with

actual stage presentations*

Conclusions

An attempt has been made in this chapter to analyze the type of

popular nautical drama written by Edward Fitzball that found favor with

1 the London minor theatres between 1824 and 1829* The indispensible

ingredients of his plays have been codified and discussed at some length*

His central nautical figure, invariably a lower-deck British naval seaman

juggling his picturesque sea jargon, is an idealized stock character,

whose sentiments and pattern of behavior could easily be categorized*

The melodramatic structure of Fitzballts concoctions follows closely the

prevailing vogue of restoring the legitimate and destroying the villainous*

The story in a typical play usually has something to do with the tortuous

journey of ill-starred lovers whose utmost goal of matrimony will be

reached through the help of the good Samaritan of a seaman* No genius in

devising original dramatic plot, Fitzball based his nautical plays upon

the works of others and on popular legends* The literary merits of

these nautical pieces are negligible since they are not in the least

thought provoking* They were written according to some sure-fire box-office hit formula and catered to the minor audiences* whimsical desire for self-glorification and moral conformity.

If we find that the sailors in his plays somehow lack touches of

reality and seem to live in a never-never land, the reason was that

Fitzball lhad no first-hand knowledge of the subject matter he was dealing

with* The extent of his knowledge of the sea is pitifully revealed in

his autobiography:

It was with Stanfield (painter at Drury Land) I first ventured on the briny ocean* of which I had written so much* thanks to the hints supplied to me by others* I shall never forget the novelty and delight of my sensations* as the bark bounded over the brisk billows* * * **0

Nor would the reader of his autobiography be likely to forget this

event* because he got seasick afterwards* The year was 1828*

Though devoid of literary distinction* his nautical plays

nevertheless were vehicles for producing spectacles which were usually

superbly carried out within the physical limitations of the nineteenth-i

century minor stage* We have noted the tendency towards realism in

staging some of these nautical scenes* In this chapter we have dwelled

for some time upon his major nautical scenes because of their independent

theatrical interests*

ho Fitzball, I, 165 I

CHAPTER III

DOUGLAS JERROLDs SOCIAL PROTEST OF A

SENTIMENTALIST (1829-1830)

Introduction

If In our discussion of Fitzball*s nautical plays the emphasis

has been on the formula* the various ready-made ingredients that found

favor with the mass of unsophisticated people who frequented the minor

theatres* the reason for this is simply that his plays do not touch any

realistic problems related to his subject matter— the Sailor in the

British Navy. In his facile romance-adventure oriented stories* it would

be difficult to find any thought-provoking themes or to comment upon any

pungent situations and characterizations* However* when we come to the

nautical plays of Douglas Jerrold* a different approach is needed in

order to recognize his true significance in the history of the British

nautical drama*

We will first discuss the ostensible themes in his three plays*

the messages he apparently had for his audiences* The most profitable

way to discuss the messages would be in terms of their reception by the

audience* Unfortunately the reactions of the spectators are almost as

ephemeral and difficult to recapture as the medium through which the

messages are transmitted* The only extant records concerning audience

reaction belong to the contemporary drama reviews* As might be expected,

80 81 the reports oh audience reaction in these reviews are usually of a very general nature; but in our present case they are valuable and pertinent, for if Jerrold*s nautical plays contained any new elements we would naturally expect the professional drama critics to notice them first.

As a playwright Jerrold is perhaps much superior to Fitzball, but it must be remembered that his nautical plays are still essentially melodramas, which have certain recognizable traits. We will devote some time to finding out the kind of melodramatic pattern which he followed.

Finally, we will discuss the type of nautical scenes that appear in his plays• Throughout these discussions, we will keep Fitzball,s formula in mind and note the appearance of new elements as well as deviations that occur in Jerrold*s i&ays.

Slack-Eyed Susan: or. All in the Downs: A Melodrama of Confused Purpose

June 8, 1829, will remain an important date in the history of

British nautical drama. On that day, Douglas Jerrold, a young (though

Certainly not untried) playwright had his first nautical drama produced

by Elliston, the veteran manager who, with Thomas John Dibdin, first

organized the Surrey Theatre in 1818. Jerrold had just resigned from

the Coburg theatre, for which he had written for four years,* after a

serious quarrel with Davidge, the manager. In accepting the job as a

dramatic writer at the Surrey at£ 5 P®* week, the author had deposited

^Nicoll (pp. 331-332) lists ten of his dramatic pieces produced at the Coburg between 1825 and 1829. 82 upon the manager's table, by way of beginning, the "nautical and , domestic” drama of Black-Eyed Susan: or». i n in tha Tk>wn

English stage had ever witnessed.

The revolutionary elements in such a maudlin melodrama may not be readily apparent to the modern reader, but even under the heavy layer of sentimentalism and over-contrived action, the author's sympathy for the common lot of the British sailor is still not difficult to detect. Told in the simplest manner, the story concerns a lovable, brave young sailor's hardships and the injustices he receives at the hands of his i government and his superiors. Because of poverty, he was compelled to serve in the King's navy (presumably in the expectation of a bounty).

For three years he has been sailing in the ocean without a single day of vacation, while his destitute wife, the bLack-eyed Susan, is on the verge of being turned out of her house by her heartless u n d e and landlord.

Calling at a home port for the first time in these years, the liberty men are allowed ashore only for a few hours because the ship may have to sail the following morning. In the course of the day, William is

sentenced to death by a court martial for unwittingly striking a superior officer while rescuing his molested wife (Fig, 26), So far, the pl*y apparently has the making of a good social protest. The author's intention of portraying the ruthlessness and injustice of the law is

2 Blanchard Jerrold, The Life and Remains of Douglas Jerrold (Boston: Ticknor and Fields, 1859)* P* 89* B L A C K - E Y ’J) SUSAN, OR. ‘ALL IN THE DOWNS.”

» NAUTICAL DRAMA. IN THREE ACTS.— BY DOUGLAS JERKOl v .

CVl>rt.-“I I>L.E*VE M T i'ATE.'*— A i t 2. t f t n f

Fig. 26.---Frontispiece in Dicks' Standard Plays edition of Black-Eyed Susan, depicting a climactic moment in Act II( Scene iii, undated. The Victoria and Albert Museum. OSUTC Film No. 13^6. 84 unmistakable when he devotes a whole scene to the court martial proceed­ ings (III, ii)( in which the Admiral, though he recognizes the injustice in this case, still condemns William to death by hanging according to the twenty-second Article of War, which states "if any man in, or belonging to the fleet, shall draw, or offer to draw, or lift up his hand against his superior officer, he shall suffer death,* Had Jerrold been a little less preoccupied with writing anything but a melodrama, the poignancy of the fate of William, an innocent and virtuous young man caught in a vicious system, could only have been brought out by sending him directly to death. Instead of following the logical development of the happenings in the first few scenes, Jerrold decided to adopt the prevailing dramatic pattern of making virtue triumphant,^ His instinct seemed to have told him the Surrey audience would not have liked to see the destruction of a totally good character; therefore, William's release became obligatory.

And it was done in the most contrived way— by discharging William from the service.

The following, presumably first-hand, report of the opening night of the play is most telling. It somehow catches the uneasy and uncertain feelings the Surrey audience, who were used to Fitzball's innocuous and intellectually and emotionally undemanding type of nautical pieces, must have harbored towards the first part of the play, and describes its quick relief once a stereotyped melodramatic pattern (restoring the hero) is in sight.

^Maurice Disher's main theme of his study of the mid-Victorian drama (Blood and Thunder. London: Frederick Muller Ltd,, 1949)* '0

85

The audience were hot and noisy almost throughout the even- ing, Now end then, in a lull, the seeds of wit, intrusted fay the author to the gardener (Mr, Buckstone), were loudly appreciated; hut the early scenes of Susan's "heart-rending woe" could not appease the clamour. By and fay came the clever denouement when, just previously to the execution, the captain enters with a document proving William to have been discharged when he committed the offence. The attentive few applauded so loudly as to silence the noisy audience. i They listened, and caught up the capitally-managed incident. The effect was startling and electrical. The whole audience leaped with joy, and rushed into frantic enthusiasm.**

If no reviewer of the first production of Black-Eyed Susan

recognized any element of discontent in the play and regarded it as any­

thing more than routine interest in the vein of its after piece, Fitz­

ball's The Pilot, then Jerrold had only himself to blame. The notice in

Tftifr pwftf is favorable, but the space it allots to the play in proportion

to the rest of the night*s fare at the Surrey is certainly dismal:

We have seldom seen a piece with so few and such simple incidents which excited such intense interest in the audience. Miss Scott was the SUSAN, and did every justice to the part, Buckstone (from the Adelphi) had a character in the piece which he sustained with his usual buoyancy of spirit. The Pilot followed, and it is hardly necessary to add, that T, P. Cooke*s LONG TQM COFFIN was loudly applauded. Vale*s CAPTAIN BOROUGH- GLIFFE was a very respectable performance, and that is saying much for those who remember Mathews in the part. Both pieces continue, and are likely to continue to draw crowded houses.5

Two days later, The Athenaeum received it as nothing but a routine

lachrymose melodrama. The play itself is dismissed by the review in one

line: "The plot is very tragical, and the whole lachrymose in the

extreme ,H It is interesting to note that in the lengthy narrative of the

4 Jerrold, p, 90.

^The Times. June 5, 1829, [p. 2], 86 plot which followed, it seemed that the salient features of social protest could not have been more remote from the reviewer*s thoughts.

The review concludes with a note on audience reception and acting:

The piece was much applauded, * Sweet William" was well done by Mr, T, P, Cooke; though we could not but agree with a critic at our elbow, that "he piped his eye too much,” The piece, indeed, throughout was well calculated to put one in "the dismals,"6

If the reviewers were not exactly exuberant over Jerrold* s nautical

premiere, there is little doubt that from the very beginning it was

extremely popular with its audiences,? Covent Garden took it on as an

after piece and employed T, P. Cooke gratis on November 30, 1829,® After

December 7, it was resumed at the Surrey Theatre thus, Cooke had to

commute between the two theatres every night. On its transfer to Covent

Garden, t h a Athenaeum critic, after reiterating his previous verdict on

the play, showed his aristocratic bias against plebeian taste, from which

we again have a glance at the audience reception:

As might be expected, by dint of drawing tears from the lacrimose, and exciting nautical and patriotic sensations amongst the gentlemen gods, it was received with immense

6The Athenaeum. June 17, 1829, p, 381,

?This play certainly forced a play of the similar title ( S s A - Eved Susan: or. the Lover*s Perils) at the Coburg to d o s e in a haste. The Coburg piece opened on June 1, 1829* and dosed on June 13, 1829, This means that, for a week, there were two Black-Eved Susans on the boards of the two Surrey theatres. The New Monthly Magazine reported on the rivalry on July 1: "This piece has been occasion to a curious con­ troversy between ELliston and the proprietor of the Coburg, who has raged in a complaint of the former that the title had been pirated by the latter" (pp, 296-97),

8The Times. November 30, 1829, [p. 2],

9The Times. December 7, 1829, [p. 2], 6-

87

applause* Certainly as far as Mr. T. P. Cooke * s acting could carry such nonsense through, we ourselves were delighted; but it is a lamentable thing for poor critics like ourselves to be condemned to witness such an affair half an hour after "Romeo and JulietM: the contrast is too great to allow the merits which it may possess to be appreciated.10

It is relieving to note that two weeks later the fastidious Athenaeum

critic relented and found something worth praising about the play. "We

most heartily loathe nautical vulgarity." says the critic, "and much more

nautical claptraps. But "Black Eyed Susan" is a composition of a very

different stamp from those that were wont to set galleries, nay, even

pit, in a roar."^ His reference was to the excessive patriotic senti­

ments in condemning the French, the type of pure nautical claptrap that

preceded Fitzball.

Pie Athenaeum critic was by far the more sensitive critic in

noticing the quality of Jerrold*s writing; the rest of the contemporary

reviews we have gathered seem to concentrate on nothing but Cooke*s

acting in his role of William (Fig. 27). A few examples will illustrate

the consensus of critical opinions in this matter. The New Monthly

Magazine calls Cooke*s performances at the Surrey "the most complete

representation of a frank, unaffected sailor placed in the most affecting

circumstances."^ The London Literary Gazette"s encomiums are even more

exalted:

T. P. Cooke is the best sailor that ever trod the boards— in frolic and in affliction he is always true to nature, and to the peculiarities of the seaman. His hitch, his swing, his

~^The Athenaeum. December 2, 1829, p. ?6l.

^ The Athenaeum. December 16, 1829, p. 79^«

12The New Monthly Magazine. July 1, 1829, pp. 296-97, 88

£

r , f Camkt u K n<«» ~ «■ ll« A X/Wm 6. * . #0r # M l 4> M m «» A. lhM>l A M I M m , J». ^ 4 J M 4 m » 4> C .H W . M*,Ch—mtwSf $mMMitt*.

Fig. 27.~ W . West*s toy theatre print of T. P. Cooke as William in Blaok-Eyed Susan, dated September 9» 1829. The Victoria and Albert Museum. OSUTC Film No. 1716*. 89

back-handed wipe, his roll— in short, his every look, gesture, and motion, are redolent of the blue water and the lower deck; and all this is qualified by great ability, and a degree of feeling which is far more like truth than acting;— can we wonder that such a man should draw and delight crowds for hundreds of nights? • • .13

Tha TSraiH has this to report s "The audiences have been the largest of the season on the nights he has played. . • o He deserves this popularity, for he is a man of fine as well as original talent. He is of the salt which keeps his clan from stinking in aur nostrils. So long as we have such men, theatrical amusement will [not] be out of fashion. The dass-conscious reviewer from The Times was plainly scandalized to see a minor theatre melodrama imported to Covent Garden, and the excuse he invented for such dubious proceedings must have been obviously obnoxious to the playwright.

Under any other circumstances, it might be very questionable whether the piece is of such a kind as ought to be acted at a theatre like Covent-garden; but since its attraction chiefly depends on the actor, and as his peculiar talents could not, perhaps, have been made equally serviceable in any other part, the occasion excuses its introduction.

As for Cooke's personation of the sailor, it is called "one of the deverest things of the kind that has ever been exhibited." The critic continues to praise his singing and dancing talents and his acting in pathetic moments, and finally conduded with the following remarks:

To criticise the piece would be impossible, and as he suc­ ceeded in making one of the most crowded audiences we have ever seen in the theatre laugh and weep heartily, it would

^ The London Literary Gazette. October 3» 1829, p. 65^.

l^f Thft Efranrfrwftr. December 6, 1829, P- 772. be an ungracious task to attempt it. He was universally applauded and at the end of the performances was loudly called for . • • .^5

We may conclude that In Jerrold* s first attempt at the nautical drama, he planted some seeds of social protest in behalf of the common sailor. It is, however, doubtful that his point ever got across to the audience, as we find little evidence it reached the contemporary reviewers. His theme is overshadowed by a melodramatic pattern in the virtue-triumphant tradition, but the tearful melodrama proved a great

success with the theatre-goers of London.

As an author, he received few monetary rewards from the play, which became another vehicle for Cooke*s talented nautical characteriza­

tion and a gold mine for the manager. Hepworth Dixon in his final

tribute to Jerrold after the letter's death, could not have stated the

sorry state of affairs more vividly:

All London went over the water, and Cooke became a personage in society, as Garrick had been in the days of Goodman's Fields. Covent Garden borrowed the pLay, and engaged the actor for an afterpiece. A hackney cab carried the trium­ phant William, in his blue jacket and white trousers, from the Obelisk to Bow Street; and Mayfair maidens wept over the stirring situations, and laughed over the searching dialogue, which had moved, an hour before, the tears and merriment of the Borough. On the three hundredth night of representation, the walls of the theatre were illuminated, and vast multitudes filled the thoroughfares. When subsequently reproduced at Drury Lane, it kept off ruin for a time even from that mag­ nificent misfortune. Actors and managers throughout the country reaped a golden harvest. Testimonials were got up for Elliston and for Cooke on the glory of its success, but Jerrold* s share of the gain was slight--about£ 7 0 of the many thousands which it realized for the management. With

1^The Times. December 1, 1829, [p. 3]« 91

unapproachable meanness Elliston abstained from presenting the youthful writer with the value of a toothpick; and Elliston,s biographer* with a kindred sense of poetic justice* while chanting the praises of Elliston for producing BLACK- EYED SUSAN* forgets to say who wrote the playI1°

In all fairness* it must be admitted that even though Jerrold*s senti­ mentalism and over-contrived plot may have clouded the issues* there was still something refreshing and original^? in his unglamorous depiction of the common lot of the much-glorified British sailor0 Granted this is far from honest realism, yet his approach to contemporary naval life came closer to reality than any of his predecessors did* We shall dwell on this point a little later in the chapter*

The Press Gang: an Indictment of a Wicked Institution

If Jerrold*s first nautical drama suffers from lack of vigor and confusion of purpose as a social protest and over-contrivance and senti­ mentalism as a domestic play* his next attempt in this genre should compel more attention as a play which proposes to deal with some of the most serious problems of injustice in his contemporareous naval system.

Unfortunately the unpublished manuscript of The Press Gang is not available* from what one can gather from various reviews* there are apparently certain similarities between this play and Jerrold*s previous endeavor* The observant Timas critic first notices the similar features*

^ The Athenaeum. June 13, 1857, p. 759* 17 Isaac Bickerstaffe*s ballad opera* Thomas and Sally: or. the Sailor*s Return (1760) also has a situation, in which a sailor while rescuing his sweetheart strikes down an obnoxious country squire, but the opera* composed of songs and recitatives, is too sketchy to be regarded as a predecessor of Jerrold*s play* After establishing the author of the present piece as that of KLack-

Eved Susan, he continues:

Indeed, its only fault (if it be a fault) is, that it too nearly resembles that popular performance in its general features. There is, however, so much of sameness in the character of the incidents which checker the life of the sailor, that the author had no great variety from which to select. The nature of the sufferings of the hero and heroine, in both pieces, is the same, but they prooeed from different causes. In the present, the hero, Arthur (T, P, Cooke), owes his misfortunes to the Press Gang, who seize him while coming from church with his bride, and send him on board a king’s ship. It is there discovered that he had been before in the navy, and deserted the fleet. The inter­ est of the piece (and it is kept up to the last) turns upon his escape, his interview with his wife, his separation from her, his recapture, and his preparation for the execution of his sentence, and its prevention fcy the timely arrival of Archibald of the wreck (Osbaldiston), who discovers that Arthur is the son of a brother officer, whom he (Archibald), years before, had killed in a duel in India, and for which he has ever since led the life of a recluse, and also that he is the heir to the title and estate of the Earl of Rothsay, Some of these scenes were most interesting and effective. The denouement, too, though not much in keeping with the main incidents of the piece, was well managed, and produced a very striking effect. , •

If one takes the calamity that befalls each hero as the focal point of

comparison, the structural parallels between these two plays are even more striking, William’s calamity (to be sentenced to death) results

from the fatal deed (striking a superior officer) which he commits

unwittingly in order to prevent a wrong about to be visited upon his

sweetheart; while Arthur’s infany (to be flogged round the fleet) occurs

when he resorts to private means (desertion) to remedy a wrong (to be

pressed into the navy)^ to which he has already been subjected.

l8The Times. July 12, 1830, p. 4.

^ T h e ballad opera of the same title (1755) by Henry Carey (also known as Nancy; or the Parting Lovers; Press-Gang: Love in Low Life; V w

93

Furthermore, in both plays there is a similar tender lachrymose farewell

scene between the lovers* Both denouements rely upon the deus ex

machine; in The Press Gang the denouement is even more contrived—

the revelation of Arthur*s aristocratic birth by a stranger and reformed

villain*

But even within the framework of popular nineteenth-century

formulas of melodrama*.to Which Jerrold had willingly subscribed* his

indignant voice this time is quite loud and dear* Using the direct

cause of so much misery, the press gang* as its title* the author

makes no bones about his real intentions* For striking effect, Arthur

(Fig* 28) is impressed immediately after he leaved the church with his

bride on his wedding day* The dreadful, degrading punishment* flogging*

is brought out in the open and becomes the center of attention* Lastly*

the final twist by which Arthur is acquitted, the immunity of aristocrats

to , is another savage sarcasm on the wicked inequitable

naval recruiting system* This time, even the Athenaeum critic who never

cares much about Jerrold*s melodramatic concoction in general can not but

notice what the playwright is driving at*

The action exhibits only the skeleton of a good story;— but even that, as times go* is much. The idea is clear [italics mine], but not sufficiently developed* The events, although certainly within the bounds of possibility* come too abruptly upon us to receive the sanction of minds accustomed to take the world in detail: and this is doubly unfortunate in the present case* when these events are so few, and the plot in event respect so simple. * *

and True HLue: or the Press-Gang) also depicts in a very sketchy manner the separation of a sailor from his sweetheart by the press-gang* but the piece only consists of a few patriotic songs and is very short* 20 The Athenaeum. July 10* 1830, p. 429* 9^

Fig. 28.— M. & M. Skelt*s toy theatre print of T. P. Cooke as Arthur Bryght in The Press Gang, undated. The Victoria and Albert Museum. OSUTC Film No. 171^*. 95

The Athenaeum criticism regarding Jerrold* s capricious treatment of inci­ dents (such as introducing a vital witness whimsically at the last minute) may be well-founded. In his eagerness to drive a point home or

to effect a surprise ending* some of the incidents he uses simply defy

credence. In an earlier play of his, Ambrose Gwinett; or. a Sea-Side

(Coburg, 1828), the activities of the press gang also play a very

important part in his maneuvering. The hero, Ambrose Gwinett, runs the

gamut of all conceivable misfortunes: being accused of murdering his

girl-friend*s unde, he is duly convicted and subjected to hanging; he

escapes from death through the inexperience of the executioner; and

finally, after slaving around the world for eighteen years, he is reunited

with his wife, who, incidentally has been dutifully mourning for him all

this time I The dimax of the play occurs in the last scene when the

girl*s unde, now a millionaire, pops out of nowhere. We are told that

one night eighteen years ago, the u n d e was taken by mistake by a press

gang who was readily at the disposal of Ambrose*s rival in love to get

rid of Ambrose. For eighteen years, the u n d e served in the navy and

finally made a fortune in India. Jerrold seems to be quite willing to

go to any length to create a sensation. The irony in the final twist in

The Press Gang, however, must have moved the Athenaeum critic, who feels

obligated to echo Jerrold*s indignation:

His impressment thus had been wholly illegal; for our readers are aware that it would be a gross solecism, both in polite­ ness and legidation, to force a peer of the realm to make himself useful to his country.21

21The Athenaeum. July 10, 1830, p. ^29. The sort of response this play was able to elicit from The

Ebt-nm-inur must have proved most gratifying to the author*

It is a good piece of irony* and put in a popular shape. True,— what could the navy do with lawyers, or aldermen, or stockbrokers!— Gentlemen are of no use to them: but such rascals as are able-bodied, acute, and clever; young, and poor, are alone fit for the purpose: whether they are torn from their fire-sides, or not, whether they have been married only today or not, is1 not worth enquiring about— "the navy must ! be manned•" The mode too by which the author brings off his pressed man from being flogged for desertion, is edifying. He is discovered to be heir to the peerage, and bv the laws of the lands, no peer can be pressed to sea. Qht "envy of surrounding nations!" where the laws are open to the poor as well as the rich— when they can pay for them; and where the rich only make the laws. How wise a provision, to exclude the Peer from being compelled to seal Not Not his fiery zeal needs no compulsion;— the flame of patriotism, or promotion, urges him. With two votes in parliament to back him, and he is an admiral; six votes, and he is first lord of the Admiralty. The scum have no need of compulsion; golden har­ vests if not "golden opinions" are within their reach;— the scoundrel drees only, who never rise higher than the pinnacle of a boatswainship, are your only pressed-men. Huzzat for the land of libertyl her wooden walk, glory, and prize money, if they can get it: maimed limbs and poverty they are more sure of, . . .22

If his previous nautical endeavor had largely been a critical fiascoand

his position as a nautical dramatist had been foreshadowed by Cooke*s

"natural" acting, Jerrold was aptly vindicated this time. His writing

and the message in the play receive primary attention in all the reviews.

The space allotted to the praising of Cooke* s acting has shrunk. The

Times, for instance, dismisses him in one line: "Of T. P. Cooke's 23 acting in the part of the sailor, it is unnecessary to say a word." J

22 Jfre jfrfrwftwqy- July 25, 1830, p* 468*

2^The Times. July 12, 1830, p. 4. 97

Only The Athenaeum still eulogizes his acting talent in its usual general euphonious terns ("He was an absolute incarnation of all the fine qualities which adorn, in poetical imaginations, 'the tars of Old

England! • • •' ■) and ventures a rather debatable remark: "There was no one, we will venture to say, Within the walls of the Surrey Theatre, Who did not, in common parlance, feel his heart warm towards both the profes- yU sion and the man," One would wonder that if it was possible to feel one’s heart warm towards such a dismal profession after this kind of exposure, Tho critic, still overwhelmed by his sense of indignation even fails to see any beautification or idealization in

Cooke's acting as a sailor*

A sailor would see little to amuse him in Mr. T. P. Cooke's acting— he has just such every day before his eyes.25

In compelling his audience to face the reality of one important institu­ tion Jerrold achieved a measure of success as a social-protest play­ wright.

The Mutiny at the Nore: Sympathy for the Oppressed

During the period when The Press Gang was commanding rapt attention from some discerning periodical critics and was drawing large crowds to the Surrey Theatre, Jerrold had another nautical play produced

successively within a few months at the Royal Pavilion, the Coburg and

24 The Athenaeum. July 10, 1830, p. k Z 9

25 The Examiner. July 25, 1830, p, *<6 8 , 26 Tottenham Street Theatres. The play entitled The Mutiny at the Nore: or. British Sailors in 1797 is described in the newspaper ads as

Mhistorico-nautical and domestic melodrama11 encompassing both mutinies

at Spithead and the Nore during those disastrous months in 1797 in the

history of the British navy. It should be noted at once that most of

the incidents in the play are fictitious and do not correspond to the

actual historical facts at all except for one climactic scene in the

first mutiny (I, iv), in which bloodshed occurs on Admiral Colpoys*

flagship the London during that otherwise peaceful and admirably

restrained mutiny.^ As for the mutiny at the Nore, which takes up the

space of the remaining two acts, Jerrold borrowed heavily from a popular 28 novel published earlier in that year. All the incidents relating to

Edward Peters in that novel are transferred to Richard Parker of the

play. Peters' infamous sufferings— >the false accusation of theft lodged

against him, his desertion and subsequent recapture, and the sentence

passed on him by the court martial (to be flogged round the fleet) even

after the discovery of the real thief, etc.— -all serve as strong motiva­

tions for Parker in his participation in the mutiny and contribute to

some good intense narration in his confession to his wife (II, i).

26 The Press Gang was first produced on July 5» 1830. The Mutiny at the Nore opened at the Royal Pavilion on June 7» 1830; at the Coburg on August 9* 1830; and at Tottenham Street on October 4, 1830. 27 'For interesting comparison, see G. E. Manwaring and Bonamy Doree, The Floating Republic (New York: Harcourt, Brace & Co., 1935)* pp. 83-85. 28 See chapters one through four, Frederick Marryat, The Kine's Own (Boston: Dana Estes & Co., n.d.). 99

However* what is inventive in the play is Jerrold*s concoction of a

triangular entanglement between Parker and his sadistic Captain Arlington

(fictitious)* and the vehemence Jerrold provides the rebellious sailors

in their renunciations against injustice* The rivalry between Captain

Arlington and the wronged sailor, which resembles somewhat the famous

situation in HLack-Eved Susan* even carries less conviction and is,

worse still, half-heartedly e x e c u t e d *^9 One suspects that its only I raison d*etre is to give Parker a more persuasive reason to kill I ; Arlington and to give him a chance to declare later (II, iv) to his wife,

in a grandiose manner: "The law might have saved the mutineer, they

must not, cannot save the murderer I" In ending the play with Parker* s

public execution, we are not certain whether Jerrold felt that he was

obliged to follow Marryat* s story or bow to history, but apparently he

felt that Parker* s death, in the world of his own creation, would not

have been just unless he had killed somebody and the cause had been

loved One might say once a melodramatist always a melodramatistI

Now that we have stripped the play of all its borrowed garments

and pretentious follies, probably it will be easier for us to appreciate

its intrinsic values. What is moving and unmistakably original are the

passionate speeches Jerrold put into his characters* mouths, now

defending their own right to revolt, now denouncing the callous

29 Apparently total strangers in fiction as in history, Arlington and Mary Parker have only this to say to each other when they meet at a crucial moment: Mary. Mercy I mercyl Captain Arlington— Arlington. Madam, once you knew not the word. (Ill, ii) 100 author!ti8s who have abused them* A few examples will serve the purpose of illustration.

First, the voice of Jack Adams who refuses to abandon the king yet is in full sympathy with the mutineers. This is the way he chastises

the "landlubberN who talks about hanging the mutineers:

It’s all mighty well for fellows like you and your loblolly boy there to talk about hanging and rebellion, and all such stuff; but we*11 just suppose, now, that all that fleet were strung up like dried haddock aboard a Dutch lugger, where the devil would you get such another navy? Would you turn to at the captern, or should we wait till your young ones came up to stand at the wheel or go into the chains? You*re a hippopotamus! (I. i)

One can not help feeling that Jerrold was actually chastising through I the honest Jack Adams the "landlubbers" in his audience who were ready to

pay lip service to the glorious profession of a sailor but were in fact

quite indifferent to his actual conditions. And there are probably more

truths than diatribes in the following speech:

I know that every sailor there (though there may be something to complain of, and they’ve gone on the wrong tack to remedy it), has done old England service; I know that many a brave heart there has watched, fought, bled, for his country; has spent years upon the salt sea in storms and peril; has had the waves beating over him and the shots flying about him, whilst you, and such as you, have been scratching your sixpences together, taking your grog with the curtains drawn, the doors listed, your feet upon your fender, and your wife and children alongside of you. (I, i)

The sincerity and laconic speech Parker gives on flogging undoubtedly has

much dramatic force:

I have served the king seven years; in that I have seen enough to turn the softest breasts to . . . 1 have seen old men, husbands and fathers, men with venerable gray hairs, tied up, exposed, and lash’d like basest beasts: scourg’d, whilst every stroke of the blood-bringing cat may have cut upon a scar received in honourable fight. I have seen this; and what the culprit’s fault? He may have trod too much on this side, or on that, have answered in a tone too high or too low, his beardless persecutor— no matter: the crime is mutinous, and the mariner must bleed for it. (II, i) 101

It could not fail to be apparent to the most obtuse that Jerrold was

writing with passion and out of strong personal convictions. There is no

equivocation about whose side he is on or what cause he is advocating.

Let us quote one more example of his diatribes, this time against the

tyrannous captains.

Are we not hourly goaded, spurned, treated like dogs? . . . Men, husbands, fathers, have been trusted to your command— how have you used them?— like beasts; their torture has been your hourly pastime; now, we are resolved to wipe away the stain, we have sworn to justify the name and nature of man, violated in our persons— we will have justice! (II, ii)

Another amazing thing about this play is the fact that although

only one of the main events has any historical basis it somehow, in a

mysterious way, has captured the spirit of those two famous mutinies.

One sailor, for instance, demands in the simplest terms: "We want more

pay, better provision, and less flogging" (I, ii), the major demands of

the mutiny at the Nore.3° The New Monthly Magazine reviewer who shows

- judgment in his evaluation of Jerrold*a writing also provides us with

insight into an actual performance he witnessed at the Coburg:

It is a drama of great force in the writing, and abounding with powerful effects, as might be expected from the pen of the author of "Black-eyed Susan," employed on a subject so rich in dramaticjnaterials. Mr. Jerrold, to whom the theatre is indebted for this vivid composition, is by far the most promising of our younger dramatists; he seizes the strongest point of character and situation boldly, and puts them strongly; and though some­ times a want of repose and relief is painfully felt in witnessing his scenes, this is exactly what experience will supply. On this occasion, he was fortunate in the representation of his hero, Richard Parker, the ringleader of the greater mutiny, who was played hy Mr. Serle with discrimination and pathos, which no actor now engaged in London could exceed. His burst of passion, while describing the wrongs and sufferings he was

30 Manwaring and Doree, pp. 257-58* rt. n,'

102 striving to avenge, were only exceeded by the quiet pathos of his closing scenes, and the brave self-collectedness with which he gave the last famous toast of the sentenced hero. It was gratifying to observe that the audience fully appreci­ ated excellence of so intellectual a cast, and which they have been so little used to witness; and for even the noblest rants of the night won so much applause as the truth and beauty of his acting,31

The pungency of Jerrold*s social protest can only be fully

appreciated when we realize that at the time of his writing, the

grievances which caused the Mutinies at Spithead and the Nore some

thirty years before were by no means all removed. In a later chapter, we

shall investigate the1 historical facts about the social conditions of the

navy and the actual grievances of the common seaman in the late eighteenth

and early nineteenth century, which will provide us with a frame of refer­

ence in our evaluation of the validity of social protest in Jerrold*s and

his successors* nautical plays.

Jerrold and the Fitzball Formula

Transformation of the nautical character

A few important changes in the characterization of the sailors

occur in Jerrold*s nautical dramas, (1) Even though Jerrold*s plays are

professedly to deal with the past rather than the present naval scene,

hi s nautical characters, unlike those in Fitzball*s plays who live in a

never-never land, are more realistically drawn and historically placeable.

One method he uses to achieve the realistic touch is careful planting of

nautical allusions. The disciplinary measures William alludes to in

31The_New Monthly Magazine. October 1, 1830, p, 423. 103

ECLack-Eved Susan, for instance, must have been all too familiar to the « sailors in the audience. After the impressment of the two smugglers

Hatchet and Rake by Lt. Pike of the Revenue Service, William comments:

"If they are drafted aboard of us, all I wish is that I was boatswain’s mate for their sakeI 0 wouldn’t I start ’em!" In another place,

William refers to his Admiral as "a good old fellow and one as didn’t like flogging.H Even the yarns he spins are carefully chosen. On one anecdote, Jerrold footnotes:

That part of the story which speaks of the patronage awarded by the officers to the shark, of the ostensible purpose for which the fish was employed, and of the cause and manner of its death, is the writer believes, found in truth. It has been related to him many a time— a story is never old with a sailor— on high seas. (II, iii) I In The Mutiny at the Nore. allusions to actual naval activities are even more abundant. We will only give one example. Jack Adams describes to the "landlubbers" the common lot of a sailor on board a man-of-war in the following manner:

He’s lying in the cockpit, with the surgeon and his mates, with their shirt-sleeves tucked up, clattering their knives and saws . . . (I, i)

The author undoubtedly drew heavily from his own experience in the navy

in writing these plays. Admittedly, his allusions to reality are mostly

unpleasant ones, but that was the navy of Jerrold* s time after all.

(2) We have noticed that in a Fitzball nautical play, the role of the

central character, though preeminent, is usually that of a good Samari­

tan; structurally it is peripheral to the main plot and therefore,

replaceable. In a Jerrold play, the plot evolves around the central

character; the play is about M m . his misfortune, and his fate. If he is IfJ •

I 10^

deleted from the cast, there will be no play at all. (3) Instead of

Fitzball*s innocuous, always cheerful and cooperative sailors, Jerrold*s

are not usually happy with their lot and are apt to air their grievances

as well as spin their yams. William has his gay moods and still dances

the hornpipe, but we are also acquainted with his distressed moments.

The central character is no longer one-dimensional; the author begins to

display various facets of the character: his feelings and emotions,

his motivations in action, etc. The spectators are finally persuaded

to see and feel the way the hero does. Emotional involvement for the

audience'is another measure of Jerrold*s superiority over Fitzball in

dramaturgy.

The new melodramatic pattern

We have noticed that in Fitzball*s plays the melodramatic struc­

ture and the nautical situation are developed along two distinctly

separate lines. Of the six plays, only Nelson has a nautical character

who is also the lover in the nautical situation. Along with refinement

in characterization, the central nautical character in a Jerrold*s play

begins to occupy a permanent position in the love triangle. His captain,

unlike his counterpart in Fitzball*s nautical drama who woos maidens in

hiw own social class, has stooped to compete with his own subordinate for

the affections Of a woman; hence, he occupies the other corner of the

traditional triangle— the one for the unwelcome suitor. Since the humble

lovers are already married, the captain*s intrusion looks even more

wanton and odious. It is only fair that he should be the villain of the

piece as well. In KLack-Eved Susan, intoxication is largely blamed for 105 Capt, Crosstree * s indecorous behavior towards Susan and his subsequent repentance and effort to rescue William from the halter in some measure redeems his villany in the public eye. In The Mutiny at the Nore. Capt,

Arlington becomes the absolute villain, upon whose head Jerrold heaped all the blames of a wicked institution. Blaming the wicked captain for all the injustices the poor sailors had to suffer is admittedly an emotional approach to the problems of social justice on Jerrold*s part; some of the wrongs were institutional rather than personal and could not be corrected by anything less than an Admiralty order or an Act of

Parliament, as we shall see in a later chapter. But the emotional approach to a realistic problem is of course one of the enchanting characteristics of melodrama. Under the circumstances, it was quite legitimate,

Excepting The Press-Gang, in which we still have a hidden crime and an abducted heir, the other two nautical plays of Jerrold have I abandoned the Fitzballian type of melodramatic structure altogether.

Instead, the melodrama deals with the pathos and the misfortune of the nautical character, (The Mutiny at the Nore has more to do with the

domestic story of Richard Parker than with the historical mutinies.) The

ending may be different (happy for William and unhappy for Parker) but

the appeal to audience sympathy and emotional involvement (especially

tears), is essentially the same. It was this touch of domesticity and

indulgence in pathos, qualities unknown in Fitzball*s nautical drama,

which elicited one contemporary critic*s admiration of the author's

"perfect delineation of our common nature in its most terrible moments,

which awakes all our strongest sympathies and harrows up our deepest feelings."^ The universal appeal and the great success of these plays ware explained by the author’s son thirty years later:

There were points to touch all; the poor, in the sorrow suffered by Susan, dunned; by the hard landlord, Doggrass, and in the error against authority of William, who struck his commander to shield his wife from wrong; the respectable and the representatives of authority, in the frank forgive­ ness and noble alacrity to save the sailor on the part of the offended officer. • • ,33

The nautical scenes

We have noted that Jerrold, being a better craftsman than

Fitzball, puts more emphasis on the well-developed characters and

lachrymose melodramatic situations than the latter. He is, furthermore,

unwilling to delegate undue authority to the machinist in his produc­

tions. Aside from providing proper locale for the actors, the machinist

is not allowed to display his talents in mounting spectacular nautical

scenes as in Fitzball1s case. As far as the scenic arrangements in the

sets are concerned, Jerrold*s nautical scenes are no different from

Fitzball*s. He still uses seaport landscape such as a "View of the

Downs, the fleet at anchor** (I, iv, Black-Eved Susan) which, in staging

terms, means **6 G.— Three rows of set waters, foreground, fleet at

anchor," as the prompt informs us. He also makes free use of the "deck

of ship" scenes (III, v, HLack-Eved Susan: II, ii and III, v, The Mutiny

at the Nore). which we have encountered a dozen times in Fitzball. The

real difference, however, lies in the fact that once the scene opens the

3^The Athenaeum. December 16, 1829, p. 79^*

^Jerrold, p. 89. 107 machinist's job is over; his service will not be required for the rest of the scene.

From the standpoint of mechanical staging, Jerrold*s nautical scenes, in which important events still take place, may sound somewhat static, but from the theatrical point of view, they are far from that.

The attraction of his nautical scenes might be termed cerebral. It is not that they are not sensational; it is only that they have nothing to do with marine-boarding combats, cannon firing, ship sinking, or con­

flagration of ships. In his initial contact with Jerrold*s nautical drama, the Athenaeum critic found himself quite relieved by one aspect of

the production: "This much . . . we will say in praise of * Black Eyed 3/1 Susan*; there is no gun-powder• The sensational moments in Jerrold*s

nautical scene are tautly linked with the melodramatic situation.

1 The nineteenth century British, especially those of the low

class, were notoriously fond of public trials and executions. Large

crowds used to gather around the gallows,^ because, in a macabre way,

these public events offered both thrills and entertainment. In 1829,

the year Jerrold produced HLack-Eved Susan, for instance, twenty-four

3 4 The Athenaeum. December 2, 1829, p. 761. 35 John Laurence describes the executions at the Dock at Wapping as follows: NAs a rule, the streets and windows and even the house tops were crowded with spectators, and boats and barges and other craft thronged the river within view of the gallows" (A History of Capital Punishment. New York: The Citadel Press, I960, p. 53)*As for the executions in the front of Newgate, he estimates "as many as 40,000, . . . were present at the execution of Holloway and Haggerty in 1807, when a panic ensued, and scores were trampled to death" (p. 180). 4 -y

108

persons were hanged in London. It would be safe to suppose that many

of the minor spectators were also witnesses of these free public

spectacles. It would be unfair to condemn Jerrold for introducing naval

trials and execution scenes, which as a rule were not open to the general

public, and therefore further enhanced its curiosity and interest, on

stage in the same vein as his "Newgate Calendar" colleagues at the

Surrey,^? but the fact remains that these scenes must have caused quite a

sensation. The poignancy of the situation in William* s case may excuse

Jerrold for being a sensation-monger. After all, he is protesting

against the official sanctioning of injustice. The shock the execution

preparation in HLack-Eved Susan must have produced among the audience may

be gathered from the following absorbingly detailed account from The

Athenaeum;

There is not merely a funeral procession towards the "rope," but the very "rope" is slung in view— the very noose is tied 1 before our eyes,— William throws himself on his knees to say his prayers,— the captain, officers, and "merry middies" do the same,— and the group is very edifying. . . . "Sweet William" rises, seises the flag of Old England, (lowered on the sad occasion,) presses it to his lips, and is then mounting most courageously to the running, when the officer he had struck (and whose life he had twice saved) rushes to the ship with a free pardon.38

^^aurence, p. 14. 37 This is the way Baker describes the conditions at the Surrey a few years before Jerrold became its resident dramatist: "Pieces of the most degraded description were produced, notably one upon.the murder of William Weare, in which the identical gig used by the murderers was brought upon the stage. ..." (History of the London Stage and Its Famous Players. 1576-1903 [London: George Routledge and Sons, Ltd., 1904], p. 392).

•38Ihe Athenaeum. June 17, 1829, p. 381. 109

The success of these ceremonies concerning naval discipline proved so I great that the author was going to use the same type of scene over and over again in his two oth " pieces*— in The Press Gang, the flogging scene; and in the Nore. the execution of Parker.

D-G*s preface (Cumberland's Minor Theatre, Volume L U I ) to the last mentioned play seems to sum up very accurately the attraction of this type of naval scene:

Those who cannot conveniently attend a naval execution, may have their soft sympathies excited, and their curiosity gratified, by witnessing this drama. The paraphernalia of death is most correctly brought to view; and if to behold a picture of domestic agony, a frantic wife, and a poor infant, in the stern group of executioners, be an additional charm, the veriest Amateur in such horrors will not be disappointed.

Conclusions

It is amazing how Jerrold within the short span of one year, changed the traditional innocuous and insipid adventure-oriented nautical drama into a powerful instrument of social indictment of a wicked national institution which was still a living reality with thousands of his audience. A midshipman in his teens, Jerrold translated his first­ hand knowledge of the life of a sailor as he lived it into strong social protest. For a time, he was the most promising young man (aged twenty-six when HLack-Eved Susan was first produced) of the London theatres. On August 28, 1830, all three of his nautical dramas were playing at two rival minor theatres: HLack-Eved Susan and The Press

Gang at the Surrey and The Mutiny at the Nore at the Coburg. His career as a nautical dramatist was, however, short-lived; once the doors of the major theatres were open to him, his interest turned to other types of drama. Ironically, it is largely because of his nautical drama The 1 1 0

Black-Eved Susan that he is still remembered as a dramatist. Though he turned his back on the nautical drama after 1830, he never abandoned the cause he so vehemently advocated in these three pieces. He was to con­ tinue voicing his protest on behalf of his less articulate former 1 i ■ colleagues in other non-dramatic types of writing. An ardent advocate for the abolition of flogging, he flared up when the debate in the House of Commons, in connection with the incident of a soldier being flogged to death, brought in testimonies in favor of that mode of inhuman punish­ ment. It is interesting to note that even after some sixteen years, his satire still had not lost any of the vigor of his youth:

To read the debate, is to glow with admiration at the stoic wisdom of officers and gentlemen who, with unscathed backs, bear witness to the efficacy of the lash. According to them grace and goodness are twined with every layer of the scourge. To flog is to elevate. The reprobate, "seized" to the gangway, becomes, with every burning, flaying stripe, "a wiser and better man." He does not feel himself, with every lash, a more debased and wretched being. No, the "offending Adam? is whipped out of him, and like a martyr with maimed and lacerated body, he is sublimated by agony* • • • Nought so purifying as the scourge.3?

Jerrold, pp. 35-36. I CHAPTER IV

SOME SPECIAL EFFECTS OF NAUTICAL STAGING

Since the nautical scenes are such an important part of Fitz­

ball1 s nautical plays, it is only logical that we shall look into some

technical aspects of nautical staging in his plays. In order not to

duplicate research efforts of others in the nineteenth-century British

theatre, technical aspects of the standard nineteenth century stage

facilities such as wing-flat-border units, vertical and lateral machines,

etc., will not be reviewed here. Studies deriving from prompt books in

the Ohio State University Theatre Collection have covered these aspects

very thoroughly. An arbitrary decision has been made to include here

effects that are either exclusively for nautical usage on stage or

indispensable for staging some of the nautical scenes. The following

effects will be discussed in this chapter: (1 ) water, or wave machines; 1 ’ ' (2 ) ship sailing and ships; (3 ) panoramas; (*0 miscellaneous special

effects such as blue and red fires, smoke, lightning, thunder, wind, and

rain; and (5) the magic lantern. It is to be understood that some of the

An exception is made in the case of panoramas, even though a competent study is on record from the files of the Ohio State University Theatre Collection (Richard C. Wickman: "An Evaluation of the Employment of Panoramic Scenery in the Nineteenth Century Theatre"[unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, The Ohio State University, 1961]). The reasons for developing this topic are given later in the chapter.

Ill I I

1 1 2 incidental effects we have encountered in Chapter Two such as moon, sunrise, cloud, etc. are excluded here because they are considered to be of a rather general nature and their association with the nautical scenes is too incidental to warrant special mentioning in a study like this*

Water, or Wave Machines i In 1887, more than half of a century after the period under present survey, Percy Fitzgerald deplored the crudity of the treatment of water on stage:

Recently in a London house was seen the barbaric device of screens moved from right to left with a short and contrary motion, between which the ship, cut out in profile, pursued its course. . . .

The screens he refers to are sometimes called water rows, or wave machines. They were part of the ingredients of the artificial water

Charles Dibdin, in 1830, had described so precisely in his attempt to distinguish it from his real water:

Since the public knew we could, in common with all Theatres, produce artificial water, and wrap up our rivers when not used, in tarpaulins, to keep our water from the dry rot, and therefore, it was requisite that they should be unequivocally informed that they would actually see Water, not Wood, Canvass and Whalebone, painted. . • .3 I Now to continue our story about Fitzgerald. He suggested that in more ambitious spectacles, where effective water scenes have to be accom­ plished, the following old method must be relied upon: A painted cloth is spread out over the stage, and a number of men and boys prone on their backs underneath, work feet

^Percy Fitzgerald, The World Behind the Scene (London: Chatto and Windus, 1881), p. 71* 3 Charles Dibdin, Professin g & Literary Memoirs, ed. George Speaight (London: The Society for Theatre Research, 1956), p. 99* 113

and arms diligently. The difficulties are so enormous that nothing has really been found so satisfactory as this some­ what barbarous procedure.4

To the student of the history of the theatre, these two methods, one of which Fitzgerald seems to approve of, are recognized as the methods employed by Sabbattini and Furttenbach. These instances only show how little had been changed in the treatment of water on the stage since the

Renaissance.

As far as completeness of information is concerned, Sabbattini's treatise is still the best source on the subject. He suggested four ways of making a stage sea. The following brief account of each method is taken from John H. McDowell's translation of Mamm] for Constructing

Theatrical Scenes and Machines. 1638.-5 The first method (Fig. 29) uses a a wooden frame the size of the entire stage upon which a cloth painted to represent a sea is fastened loosely. Under the doth pieces of cord are

Fitzgerald, p. 71. Olive Logan also mentions the use of super­ numeraries on their knees under the sea-doth. By "agitating their bodies (some use brooms instead) beneath the dusty covering,H the’undu­ lation of the waves was simulated. But sometimes the "waves'* did not act their parts; he records how that was corrected by one stage manager: "One infuriated manager I have heard of, indignant at the calmness of a sea on which a magnificent ship was going to wreck without any provoca­ tion whatever, rushed on the stage and began kicking his waves in a very energetic manner. The tempest followed in fine order. The white-caps— which might have been night-caps, judging by their previous quietude— began tossing the very element old ocean completely lacks (dust) in the eyes of the audience, where it must be more or less at all stage repre­ sentations" (^Secret Region of the Stage," Harper's New Monthly Magazine. April, 1874, pp. 635-35).

^Nicola Sabbattini, "Manual for Constructing Theatrical Scenes and Machines, 1638," trans. John H. McDowell, The Renaissance Stage (Florida: University of Miami Press, 1958), pp. 130-34. Fig* 29*— Sabbattini’s wave machine, the first method, reproduced from The Renaissance Stage, p. 130. 115 sewed on from below, leaving the ends extending about a foot at each side of the frame. Men are placed at each side to hold the cords. By tightening and loosening each cord alternately, an Imitation of sea waves is effected. As we can see, the method Fitzgerald recommended was only a slight variation on this technique.

The second method (Fig. 30) requires strips of plain wood cut in the form of a wave.* A piece of doth painted azure with silver tops is attached to each strip on top, hanging down on both sides. The wave cutouts are placed at some distance from each other to allow easy passage of people or objects between them. Two pieces of wood (ON, and QP) stretching from front to back stage are linked to the wave cutouts alternatively by short sticks, R, S, T, V, etc. from underneath. By raising and lowering the ends of the sticks at N and P, successively, the waves are set in motion. Two stage hands are required to operate the machine under the stage.

The third method (Fig. 31)t which Sabbattini prefers to others, requires cylinders made out of strips of board not broader than four and shaped like waves. Each cylinder is then covered with painted

canvas. By turning the cranks of the cylinders, which are placed on two pieces of wood AB, CD, the sea is set in motion. Again, Sabbattini warns that sufficient room between cylinders should be provided to allow

people or objects to pass.

The fourth method (Fig. 32), the most sophisticated in the group,

is meant to make the sea "rise, swell, get tempestuous, and change color."

Actually, it is a combination of the second and the third method. The Fig. 30. Sabbattini1s wave machine, the second method, reproduced from The Renaissance Stage, p. 132. £ Ov Fig. 31.--Sabbattini*s wave machine, the third method, reproduced from Tfeg. Renaissance Stage, p. 133. Fig. 32.— Sabbattini’s wave machine, the fourth method, reproduced from The Renaissance Stage, p. 13^. tsoo 119 wave cutouts with attached canvas are placed between the cylinders. Each wave cutout is operated separately by a stage hand from under the stage.

By raising and lowering each cutout (from GEGD to NLMO), a tempestuous sea is effected. If a calm sea is desired, the wave cutouts are to rest on the floor while the cylinders resume revolving.

Besides these four methods of making waves, we may add Furtten- bach*s sliding wave machine to complete our list. The sliding wave machine is a painted wood cutout placed in a groove across the stage.

By pushing the cutout back and forth, or rather right to left, in a groove used for back flats, wave movements are simulated.^ It was to this method that Fitzgerald raised objection.

The wave effect employed during the early nineteenth century did not go beyond the five methods initiated by these two Renaissance machinists. However, it is difficult to say which of these methods was most in use. Contemporary sources on the subject are few and the information yielded from them is fragmentary. In an article on stage machinery Reesfs Cyclopaedia lists, for instance, only Sabbattini1s third method.? We are inclined to believe that most of the time stage

^Joseph Furttenbach, "The Noble Mirror of Art, 1663," trans. George Kernodle, The Renaissance Stage (Florida: University.of Miami Press, 1958). PP. 239-^0. 7 "Dramatic Machinery." The Cyclopaedia: or. Universal Dictionary of Arts. Science, and Literature, ed. Abraham Rees (Philadelphia: Samuel Bradford, 1803-19)» XII, p. 6 , Olive Logan late in the century also recorded a successful use of this method, in a theatre in Philadel­ phia, U.S.A. The wave cylinder was "garnished with curling stiffened canvas, running around the cylinder after the fashion of the threads of a screw," and when three such cylinders "were revolved together, with a peculiar arrangement of light and shade upon them, the effect was strik­ ingly like the rolling in of the waves upon the beach" ("Secret Region of the Stage," Harper1 s New Monthly Magazine. April. 18?4, p. 635). 1 2 0 water was not made according to just one method but rather utilized several at a time to secure the desired effect, Moynet*s account of a

Parisian spectacle involving underwater fairies seems to bear out this conjecture. In one scene rows of water were placed from the front to the back stage at a distance from each other. The space between rows was

covered by painted sea canvas. Some twenty children armed with whale­ bones were asked to march around under the canvas, agitating the sea

cloth. We gather that the water rows must have been of sufficient height to allow the children to stand up. In another case, the canvas

occupying the first few plans almost came down to the apron. Smaller

children selected from the above group were asked to lie on their backs

under the sea cloth to agitate it with whalebones the same way as their 8 colleagues upstage.

From the extant evidence it is apparent that wave machines in the

nineteenth century differed little from those familiar to us in the

seventeenth century. Nevertheless, we do find that along with canvas

for suggesting water, gauze was occasionally employed for similar

effects. Pltzball* s own account of the opening night of his first

nautical play indicates its presence:

The second scene presented a still brighter prospect: a section of The Foating fslcl Beacon, the surrounding waves, the moving horizon, done to such a perfect reality, all painted on gauze, that you might well have believed yourself absolutely on board. • • .9

®M. J. Moynet, L*Envers du Theatre (Paris: Librarie Machette, 1873), pp. 210-12 .

^Fitzball, I, 145. 1 2 1

We will notice that the use of gauze to effect the transparent quality of the sea was to increase in the nautical plays after 1830. Occasionally gauze was called for in a scene in addition to the regular sea-doth; in that case it was probably done by spreading a layer of it above the regular, sea canvas.10

Ship Sailing and Ships

We have seen two types of movement of ships in Fitzball1s nautical

staging. First, in such scenes as II, iv, in The Floating Beacon: I, v, in Melson; II, iv, in The Inchcape Bell; and II, i, in The Red Rover: a

ship or boat moves across the stage either from L.U.E. or R.U.E. towards

the opposite side of the stage. The ship is usually placed rather up­

stage, and only one side of it is shown to the audience. Sabbattini,

again, has some specifications for creating such an illusion. His

method calls for a cutout profile piece expertly painted to represent

mast, ropes, sails and other sailing equipment and placed on a swallow­

tailed groove. The groove, placed between two wave pieces, should be

well soaped to facilitate the operation. When it is time to move the

ship across the stage, one or two stage hands hiding behind the profiled

ship simply push it across the groove with a slow motion.^-

Moynet also indicates the combined use of sea d o t h and gauze. In the scene cited above where an ordinary sea canvas was used with march­ ing children underneath it, a ship was wrecked upstage a little later. His description reads: "Note this piece of wreckage which floats at water level under some blue gauze which makes it appear to be sinking. • • *H (p. 212). 1 1 Sabbattini, pp. 135-36. 1 2 2 i Since the ships used in these nautical scenes usually require room for two or three people on board and the journey is sometimes not

smooth, we will have to look for another model for this kind of operation,

figure 33* found among a series of illustrations in Illustrated Sporting *| p ainri Dramatic News. October 2, 1886, seems to provide the solution for

our problem. The engraving shows two men riding on a cut-out woodpiece

equipped with wheels which rest upon a rolling track. The boat is

masked by a row of what appear to be wave cut-outs and is operated from

the wing by a rope. The boat also has room for two people to sit facing

each other.

The other type of crossing, as in III, iv, in The Flying- Dutchman -

is more complicated. A ship comes down from the distant horizon and

after turning around at one point on the stage sails back to where it

came from. Sabbattini again describes hpw this was done. The cylinder

waves (his third method) are used for the occasion. They are to be

divided into two parts with a gap in the middle, upon which is nailed one

board in the shape of waves for the ship to travel upon. This board,

stretching from backstage to. forestage, should be so placed that it will

not interfere with the action of the cylinders. The ship is made in the

round but without a bottom. A piece of cloth properly painted is

attached around the ship with the end GI free (fig. 3*0. Rollers are

placed on the bottom of the ship to effect easy turning. The ship,

manipulated by four stage hands from under the stage, is pushed from

■^Reproduced in Theatre Notebook. Vol. 10 (1955~56), Plate iv, between pp. 82-83. Fig* 33.--A nineteenth-century method of ship sailing across the stage, reproduced from Theatre Notebook, Vol* 10 (1955-56)• Plate IV, between pp« 82-83* Fig. 34.— Sabbattini's method of ship sailing, reproduced from The RmnHssance Stage, p. 139* I I '

125 back to the front of the stage on the wave-shaped board LK. When it reaches the desired position, it can be turned around on the rollers and go back* BC and DE represent the cylinders upon which the board LK is placed*^3 Again, the Sabbattini method does not provide room for people to be aboard the ship*

Hopkins1 method seems to be more suitable to our purposes at

hand* Instead of using a board for the ship to travel on and moving the

ship from under the stage, the Parisian method detailed in Figures 35 and

36 makes use of a rail to guide the movement of the ship which is pulled I by a cable from the right wing from its initial position* In addition

to actors who can stand aboard the ship, stage hands are also placed

inside of the ship to help its forward movement. The middle section of

each water row is structured like swinging doors, which open when the

ship advances* The ship is covered up to the water line with painted 14 canvas* The machinery in this particular case does not provide for the

ship to return after it stops in front of the prompter*s box. But such

a return trip on a curved continuous rail could easily be set up provided

that the stage was wide enough to afford room for the ship to turn

around* The Parisian method in this case is easier to set up and manage

than the Sabbattini method, which requires a board cutting through all

the cylinders in the middle and a trap lengthwise from upstage to down­

stage for the stage hands to work from*

13 Sabbattini, pp. 137_39* 14 Albert A* Hopkin, Magic: Stags Illustrations and Scientific Diversions Including TV1 ck Photography (Hew York:Munn & Co., 1898), pp. 316-20 . Fig» 35»"~A ground plan of a Parisian method of ship sailing, reproduced from Hopkin, Magic, p. 317, Fig. 36.— An elevation view of a Parisian method of ship sailing, reproduced from Hopkin, Maeic. p. 317* H to •>3 128

From the tributes some of the contemporary reviews paid to the realistic effects of Fitzballts nautical scenes, it is safe to conclude that the rounded (three-dimensional) or profile (two-dimensional) ships used for these scenes must have had quite a striking resemblance to the real ships of the period. One would imagine that after the exacting treatment of Charles Dibdin1s seafaring ships at Sadler's Wells for two decades, most of the minor theatre audiences must have become connoisseurs of stage ships and would not have stood anything less than perfect in

i this matter.

When a fully equipped ship is presented on the stage under the name of a frigate or a sloop, with a capacity of a dozen people at the most, the discrepancies in terms of proportion between the actors and the ship must have been quite obvious to the audience. What Fitzgerald says about one ship scene at the Holborn Theatre (1866-80) must also have been true at the Adelphi where most of Fitzball's nautical plays were first produced and where the stage was rather small.^ Naturally, the size of the stage limited the sizes of the ships that could be presented there.

The Adelphi stage was constantly referred to by the contem­ poraries as Msmall." The only known dimension about the stage during this period is the width of the proscenium: 28* (from an unlabelled account of the theatre dated March 9* 1826 found in OSUTC Film No. 1443*). If we take that to be the standard architectual measurement, the depth of the stage should be doubled and the space in each wing halved, which will give us the following measurements: Proscenium opening: 28' Depth of stage (from proscenium to back wall): 56' Width of stage (from wall to wall): 36' (This standard nineteenth-century architectural tabulation in theatre is given in J. G. Heck, Iconoeraphic Encyclopaedia of Science. Literature. and Art [New York: Rudoph Garrigue, 1851], IV, 1 8 8 - 8 9 . ) Compared to 129

When the deep-scene drew up, there was revealed the open sea, with the doomed vessel stretching across the stage, with its sails spread, a marine walking up and down, a man at the helm, the hatch and companion ladder, up which the crew ascended as from the cabin* The deck itself was assumed, for it was not visible, but the side of the ship was. The absurdity of the arrangement was soon visible, for the whole was not bigger than a small schooner, the height of the rail from the water being three or four feet; the lovers, per force, being obliged to exchange their sentiments within a foot of the steersman, and being brushed past by the marine* * *1°

Another disadvantage was inadequate space for action which in a battle scene could present a serious problem* As we have seen the management at the Adelphi seemed to be rather Judicious in representing ship scenes; usually, only a portion of the ship (quarter-deck, for instance) was

attempted. This must have been an accepted convention when we consider its frequent usage in scenic arrangement* Admittedly, to simulate sink­ ing of such a ship, as in the finale of The Red Rover, is more difficult1 than that of a whole ship. The former operation requires precise

coordination between various staging elements such as the rising of the wave machines (probably ground rows with attached canvas or gauze),

the sinking of various plans, the production of multiple sound effects,

et cetera. The latter operation only requires the service of a large

the stages at Drury Lane and Covent Garden of that period, the Adelphi stage was small: Drury Lane Covent Garden (l8?2-23) (1809) Proscenium opening: U61 6" 38* 8" Depth of stage (from proscenium to back wall): 96* 3 B 82* 6 " Width of stage (from wall to wall): 77* 5" 56' (The measurements of these patent theatres are taken from Charles Dibdin, History and Illustrations of the London Theatres [London: Printed for the Proprietors of the "Illustrations of London Buildings," 1826], p. 63; p* 29*) The seating capacity for the Adelphi in 1835 was 1500-2000; for Drury Lane in 1822-23, 3060; and for Covent Garden in 1809* 2800* l^Fitzgerald, pp. 91-92* trap (on which is rested the supposed sinking ship) to be taken down at the proper moment.

In this discussion of ship sailing, we have considered four models— two from Sabbattini and two from the second half of the nine­ teenth century— to show the possibilities of staging the two different types of operation. We have pointed out that the Sabbattini method in the first case (sailing across the stage from right to left, or vice versa) does not meet our requirements, and in the second case it is more difficult to manage and set up than the Parisian method. We are, there­ fore, inclined to think that the two nineteenth-century models were

superior to the Sabbattini ones for the purpose of the nautical drama­

tists. We also commented briefly that the ships on stage during this period must have been very carefully copied from their true counterparts.

Finally, we discussed some of the advantages and disadvantages in pre­

senting an entire ship on the stage.

Panoramas

The development of the panorama as a scenic device in the theatre

has been treated comprehensively by Wlckman. An entire section in his

dissertation is devoted to the panoramic effect in the ship-storm-sea 19 scenes. ' At first glance, therefore, the inclusion of this topic in

this chapter seems to be redundant, but we have good reason to make an

exception to the rule set forth at the beginning of this chapter.

Wickman* s examples of the uses of panorama at the London theatres are all

"^Wlckman, pp. 226-39# confined to Drury Lane and Cpvent Garden; and, furthermore, are of rather late dates. For instance, the earliest record he gives was for John

Moore*s staging of the first scene in The Tempest, which was first pro­

duced under Macready*s management at Covent Garden in 1839; while the

earliest record we have on the use of the panorama is the Adelphi* s 1829

production of I, iv, in The Red Rover. The use of the panorama as an

integral scenic unit in the nautical scenes was to increase in the plays

of the thirties. For instance, uses are found in Captain Ross (Pavilion,

1833)• Jacob Faithful (Surrey, 1834), Rattlin the Reefer (Victoria, 1836)

and Breakers Ahead (Victoria, 1837).^ We find it necessary to call

attention to these minor theatre uses of the panorama in the nautical

scenes of the 1820-1830*s.

Technically, we have nothing new to add to what is already known

to us about the panorama during the period. Two standard ways of effect­

ing such an effect were well knowh to the theatre managers of the time.

One made use of a series of painted flats placed in one of the grooves

across the stage. The other method required the unwinding of a stretch

of painted canvas from one cylinder to another. Either way, the audience

would feel that the ship was moving in the opposite direction from the

moving flats or canvas.

18 Below, pp. 191-192; 204-205 1 3 2

Miscellaneous Special Effects

The Blue and Red Fire

The blue fire, which was usually connected with Gothic dramas rather than the nautical drama, is used several times in connection with

The Flying Dutchman; while the red fire usually accompanies the con­ flagration or blowing up of a ship. The formulas for both fires are given by Davidge:

Blue Fire Nitre, . • . • •••••• 8 Sulphur, • • 3 ounces Charcoal, • l/2 Antimony, • 1 ounce

Red Fire Strontia, . 8 ounces Potash, . . k ounces Shellac, . . 2 ounces Licopodium, 1jk ounce

Davidge further has this advice regarding the lighting of these fires:

When used, the fire is spread along the bottom of the fire box, composed of sheet iron, and ignited at one end. It is raised six or seven feet high at the sides, by which means a brilliant light is thrown upon every object within its reach. Immediately after use the pan should be placed in the open air or a bucket of water, to get rid of the smell, which is far from pleasant if extensively inhaled.1?

The red fire apparently was a new scenic effect at the beginning of the nineteenth century. Charles Dibdin noted in his memoirs that by the assistance of a "novel, chemical preparation, called Redfire," a most

^Davidge, William, Footlieht Flashes (New York: The American News Co., 1866), p. 15^. 133 imposing Coup-de-Theatre was produced in his aqua drama called The

QsaaaFigasL-jBr the, Infant*s Peril (1807).20

Smoke

Steam was generally used to represent smoke. An old fashioned way of producing steam by splashing water over hot irons is shown in 21 pp Figure 37* After the mid century, boilers were used* -

Lightning

Hopkins takes notice of one way of producing a lightning effect, figure 38 shows a metal box with a large opening in the top. An alcohol lamp which has a wide-spread flame is placed at the bottom. Immediately above the flame is a partition punched with small holes. The mixture used to produce the lightning effect consists of three parts of magnesium powder and one part of potassium chlorate. By pouring it on the heated grill, vivid flashes of "lightning" result.^

20 Charles Dibdin, pp. 90-91* There were other more crude ways of effecting a fire. The following was one. Recording a fire effect at the Royal Effingham Theatre around the mid-century, Thomas William Erie writes, "A ruddy glow of flame, involving the employment of probably a dozen or.more additional pipkins of fat at the wings, intensifies the effect of this spectacle [a tableau of blazing house], . . . (Letters from a Theatrical Scene-Painter: Being Sketches of the Minor Theatres of London As They Were Twenty Years Ago [Londons Marcus Ward & Co., 1880], P* 13).

21m » fft.rftted Snorting and Dramatic News. October 2, 1886; reproduced in Theatre Notebook, vol. 10 (1955-56), Plate iv, between pp. 82-83. 22 A rather elaborate system of producing steam, by the Paris Opera late in the century is recorded in Hopkins, p. 305*

^Hopkins, p. 302.

Fig. 38.— A nineteenth-century apparatus for producing lightning, reproduced from Hopkin, Magic, p. 302. Thunder

The most crude way of making thunder is to shake a large piece of

sheet iron, but this does not give the dull roar usually heard in the

' storm. To achieve the latter effect, a drum with a heavy box frame is

made. The frame is usually covered with a calf skin tightly drawn; the

stick used for the operation is padded and covered with chamois skin.

By using both methods together, the thunder effect would be relatively

realistic. There are other ways of making thunder such as pushing the

rumble car which is a "box filled with some heavy material, and mounted

upon irregularly shaped wheels;"2^ or rolling a heavy ball through a

channel with several steps .2-* I

i M

The most satisfactory way of producing the whistling of the wind

is to revolve rapidly a cylinder against a piece of silk.2**

Saul The rain effect is achieved by means of the rain box, which is

usually placed high up in the flies. Rows of pegs are placed inside a

round box. fy putting a large number of peas inside and revolving the

box by ropes, the peas run down between the pegs and produce a good

initation of rain falling on some solid objects.2^* For the visual :

24 25 Hopkins, p. 301. ^Sabbattini, p. 172.

^Fitzgerald, p. 62. 2?Davidge, p. 161; Hopkins, p. 299 137 aspect of the rain, Fitzgerald has recorded a "pleasing and brilliant effect" at the Paris Gaiete in the second half of the nineteenth century:

This consisted in a vast gauze let down and stripped over with fine silver lines. The effect, when displayed in front of troups of brilliantly d a d figures, was dazzling and certainly beautiful.^

But this was not new; decades before, such an attempt was made in con- •I nection with a nautical play, The Red Rover (adapted by S. Chapman, not

Edward Fitzball) in Philadelphia, U.S.A., in 1828. The playwright succeeded in persuading the manager Vfemyess to spend fifty dollars "to make a show of rain which shall induce the audience to look for umbrellas." He used three gauze curtains in the production and the result was that

the rain descended amid thunders of applause from the audience,— enveloping the boat, in which Wilder and his lady companions were rescued, in a dense fog, in which they were likely to remain. The effect not having been tried, no means was provided for removing the unfortunate gauze, and the rain, after having performed its part to admiration, had to ascend again to the skies, amid the laughter of the audience, and mortification of the author. • • .^9

. i The Magic Lantern

The use of the magic lantern, as we well know,, was not an

inherent part of ordinary nautical equipment. The only reason we mention

it here is because of its contribution to the success of the initial

production of The Flying Dutchman in 1826. The apparatus, which was

^Fitzgerald, p. ?8.

^Francis Courtney Wemyess, Twenty-sfo of the Life of an Actor and Manager (New York: Burgess, Stringer and Co., 1847), pp. 150-52. Wemyess, an English actor, migrated to the United States in 1822, and became manager of several theatres in Philadelphia and Baltimore. 138 invented by the Italian Athanascus Kircher (1602-1680), has basically remained the same* Except for some refinements in source of lighting* ventilation of the heat, and so on, the modern slide projector operates on the same principle as the original magic lantern; hence, The Theatrical

Observer1 s report that the magic lantern vised in The Flying was effected "on an entirely new principle11 was misleading*^ Even the projection of a moving ship on a tempestuous sea could not be a novelty in 1826, for in the 1778 Encyclopaedia Britannica we find a section on how "to represent a Tempest by the Magic Lantern.* • 1 The method calls for the painting of two strips of thin glasses

(slides). On one (Fig. 39) is to be painted the appearance of the sea,

which increases agitation by degree from A to G. On the other (Fig. 4-0)

is to be painted "vessels of different forms and dimensions, and in

different directions, together with the appearance of clouds in the

tempestuous parts."

Figure 4-1 is a reproduction of a magic lantern of that time. MN

is the groove through which the glass (slide) is pushed for projection.

You are then to pass the glass slowly through the groove; and when you come to that part where the storm begins, you are to move the glass gently up and down, which will give it the appearance of a sea that begins to be agitated; and so increase the motion, till you come to the height of the storm* At the same time you are to introduce the other glass with the ships, and moving that in like manner, you will have a natural representation of the sea, and of ships in a calm and in a storm* As you draw the glasses slowly back, the tempest will seem to subside, the sky grow dear, and the ships glide gently over the waves . . .31

3°Above, p. 55. ^"Dioptrics," Encydopaedia Britannica (2nd ed.; , 1778), vol. 4, p. 24-79. Fig* 39.— An eighteenth-century slide for projecting a tempest, reproduced from Encyclopaedia Britannica (2nd ed*t 1778), Vol. IV, Plate XCIII, p. 2483.

Fig. 40.--An eighteenth-century slide for projecting a ship in a tempest, repro­ duced from Encyclopaedia Britannica (2nd ed., 1778;, Vol. IV, Plate XCIII, p. 2483. Fig. 41.— An eighteenth-century magic lantern, reproduced from Encyclopaedia Britannica (2nd ed., 1778), Vol. IV, Plate XCIII, p. 2483. S 141

The account given by FitzbaU and information yielded by the prompt I notes do not indicate either the duration or the motion of the phantom ship. It is possible that the apparatus that Hr. Child used was no more than an ordinary early nineteenth-century magic lantern and the effect no more than the projection of the picture of a ship on a screen for a few seconds. On the other hand, it is also possible that his apparatus was of a more sophisticated nature such as the phantasmagoric apparatus.

The phantasmagoria, or the raising of spectres, was a development of the magic lantern. Its appearance in connection with entertainers in the

United Kingdom can be traced back to 1802 when Philistal performed at

Edinburgh.32 On the Continent, E. G. Robertson had great success in attracting audiences with it in Hadrid in 1821, 3 3 Varey describes what it is:

The body of the lantern, placed behind the screen, was fitted with wheels so that it could be moved towards and away from the screen, the projected image thus being made to diminish or increase in size.34

If this was used, it could certainly provide some effective theatrical possibilities for that scene. The phantom ship could be made to appear approaching the group of stunned seamen in front of the screen from the distant horizon and grow larger and larger until it occupied the entire

32Sir David Brewster, Letters on Natural Magic (London, 1834), pp. 80-81.

33See J. E. Varey, "Robertsons Phantasmagoria in Madrid, 1821," Theatre Notebook. No. 9 (1954-55). I. 89-95; No. 11 (1956-57), II, PP. 82-91.

3Vrey, I, 90. 142 screen; then as the stunned and speechless seamen stood In front of it, it slowly moved away and finally disappeared altogether*

Probably the phantasmagoria, which was usually employed to perform much more complicated tricks, was too sophisticated an instrument for such a simple task as that set down in Fitzball's script; but it should be noted that such an apparatus was certainly within the tech­ nically accomplished ability of that time,35

To conclude, in this chapter we have discussed briefly various effects closely connected with the nautical staging of Fitzball's nautical scenes. Pertinent sources on technical matters from the

Renaissance to the late nineteenth century have been collected here to suggest possible methods for effecting certain nautical operations. In most cases, there is more than one alternative.

It should be noted that the repertory of nautical rigging being I rather limited, the nautical scenes of the later playwrights seldom went beyond what Fitzball had already explored. Occasionally some refinements i were introduced in nautical scenes after 1830, and we shall mention those in Chapter Six.

■^Some seventeen years later, in the nautical play The Dream Spectre (Victoria, 1843) the use of the phantasmagoria was unequivocal. A stage direction says: "The optical illusion of the mysterious and supernatural appearance of the Night Demon is a phantasmagorical representation" (I, iii). CHAPTER V

COMMON GRIEVANCES OF THE SEAMAN IN THE LATE EIGHTEENTH-

AND EARLY NINETEENTH-CENTURY BRITISH NAVY

In Chapter Three we have seen the changes in the make-up of the

British nautical drama brought about by Jerrold*s three plays between

1829 and 1830. These plays, professedly dealing with the nautical char­

acters and events of the turn of the century, nevertheless present the reality of the common sailor and naval institution of Jerrold*s time*

Fitzball's earlier works had never attained this dimension. Under the

cover of historical realism Jerrold gradually raised his voice against

some of the evils of the old navy, but his passions sometimes carried him

far beyond a detached historical attitude. Apparently his social protest

had contemporary connotations and was not a result of his historical

interest alone. In order to appreciate the validity of his protest both

in terms of historical and contemporary reality, the social conditions of

the British navy, particularly the general grievances of the seaman*

during the late eighteenth and early nineteenth century will be reviewed.

Because of the vast scope of the endeavor and the extensiveness of

primary materials related to British naval history during the general

period under review, the investigation will be limited to those topics

which seem to have preoccupied Jerrold and some of his successors,

namely, the recruiting system, and the treatment of the seaman (subdivided

into pay, living conditions and compensations), and corporal punishment. 143 144

Despite this narrow limitation, the following account is only a general description of these social conditions* General histories of the period have been heavily relied upon for information concerning

Parliamentary legislations, Admiralty policies and regulations, general statistics, etc*; whenever practical, first-hand accounts from con­ temporary autobiographies and memoirs by naval personnel, especially those by sailors themselves, have been introduced in our review* It should not be surprising if the picture painted in the following pages may be all too familiar to the student of the British navy during this period* The justification for the present undertaking is twofold:

(l) there is no single work encompassing all the aspects and the years

covered during this period that is concise and pertinent to our present

interests, and (2) no attempt has been made, up to now, in the history

of the theatre to make connections between the British nautical drama and

the social conditions of the navy of that time, which must have been

either common knowledge or living reality with Jerrold*s audience.

The Recruiting System

Unlike the commissioned officers, the British seamen of the

lower-deck were not engaged on a permanent basis* They were hired

whenever a man-of-war was commissioned for duty and were usually

immediately paid off after the ship*s mission was accomplished* Until

the middle of the nineteenth century, the naval seamen and the merchant

seamen belonged to the same pool of special subjects who followed the

sea for a livelihood* Therefore, it was the Merchant Service which

sustained and provided training for seamen when the government did not

need them* From the financial standpoint, this arrangement proved most w advantageous to the government, which had only to maintain a skeleton complement of "ship-keepers" (usually a few warrant officers) and could put the officers on a half-pay basis in peacetime. However, at the

outbreak of a war, the Admiralty understandably faced the tremendous problem of supplying crews for its ships within a short time. Since necessity knows no law, and the seamen usually did not choose to enter

the service voluntarily, it had to resort to the notorious and much-

hated press-gangs for the complement of its fleet. The press-gangs, in l 1 popular imagination, were usually linked with eighteenth-century England

because of their monstrous activities; but, as we shall see very shortly,

they were an institution with quite a long pedigree.

It is true that the system of impressment was discontinued after

the Napoleonic War, From 1816 until the Crimean War in 185^ Britain

enjoyed a prolonged period of peace, but the fear of reviving the press-

gangs at the outbreak of hostilities had never left the minds of the

people. In fact, the subject of impressment was constantly and vehemently

debated in the press and in Parliament, The Admiralty during this

period was constantly pressed for an answer regarding the abolition of

such a system but never reached any concrete solution to the problem. No

solution was forthcoming until the Acts of Continuous Service were passed

in 1855.1

This frame of reference gives us proper perspective on the type

of nautical drama in which impressment plays such a predominant

^C. J, Bartlett, Great Britain and Sea Power. 1815-1853 (London; Oxford University Press, 1963)* P» **8* VA,V.

lk6

part: the description of this system in the drama may have been based

upon experiences of a past generation, but the implications for its

present audience must have been nothing but immediate. From this angle,

some of the melodramatists who wrote about the impressment in extreme

terms may not all be guilty of being sensation-mongers. To a large

extent, they were reflecting the apprehension of people about a by-gone

wicked system, the revival of which was still a possibility. In the

following we shall attempt a brief survey of the rise and fall of the

impressment system with emphasis on the eighteenth-century phenomenon

and the progress of its practical abolition in the mid-nineteenth century.

The word Mpresstt in the press-gang or the phrase nto press a

seaman into the navy" was actually a corruption of "prest," meaning

"enlist money"— the equivalent of the King*s Shilling in the Any— or,

as a verb, meaning "to engage for service by paying earnest money." i Originally, there was no implication of "pressing," (i.e., forcing) in

the term at all. When a person accepted the money, he was supposed to

be ready for the king*s service. But the service, especially in the

late eighteenth century, was in every way so poor and unattractive that

nobody would accept the "prest" willingly. It would be difficult to

trace the actual circumstances of the transformation: one historian

contemplates that it must have been the popular, if somewhat macabre,

jest that turned "prest" to "press," and "imprestment" into "impressment,"

which vividly describes the manner of the arm of the law engaged in

enlisting sailors.^ i

2 Michael Lewis, A Social History of the Navy. 1793-1815 (London: George Allen & Unwin Ltd., I960), p. 96. 147

In principle, the legality of every sovereign state*s right to call upon its people, including the sailors, to defend it in times of emergency and danger is hardly questionable* Conscription in some form

(of which impressment in the navy may be regarded as one variation) is absolutely necessary if the state is to survive at all, and as a matter of fact, it is still in existence in most modern countries* But the concept of conscription in the abstract has nothing in common with the , actual practice of impressment in England, especially in the eighteenth century*

The impressment system was unjust and inequitable in two ways*

First, legally, the conscription aimed at only one class of people— the

"persons using the sea," as the earliest known statute (15 Richard II, cap* 2) defines it; secondly, these persons were inevitably pressed into an inferior service at a time when they could expect an increase in pay in the merchant service, since this was almost always the case when a

"hot press" was under way* The entire system of impressing the seamen was founded on customary usage rather than specific statutes* In drying to trace this usage one author sees the beginning of the practice in

King Jofan*s commission to the barons of twenty-two seaports, requiring them to arrest all Ships and companies on April 14, 1216, within a year of the signing of Magna Charta;^ while another regards 29 Edward III,

1355 a s the first commission for the impressment of seamen*^

3 J. R* Hutchinson, The Press-Gang Afloat and Ashore (London: Eveleigh Hash, 1913)* P« 5*

^Charles N. Robinson, The British Fleet; The Growth. Achievements and Duties of the Navy of th« Empire (London: George Bell & Son, 1894), p. 412. 148 The earliest known statute governing the impressment of the seamen* I however* was passed in Richard II*s reign (1377-99)• But, legality aside* the ordinary seamen had known the clutches of the press-gangs for centuries, gangs sent by the newly-commissioned captains to complete their crews when liberal bounties and promises of prize-money failed to attract the necessary number of seamen**’ The term "the sea" in "persons using the sea" had been defined as covering "the main streams or great rivers nigh the sea;" but by the end of the eighteenth century* the inter­ pretation of these words— "main*" "great" and "nigh"— became so wide that they meant practically "any river, any stream at any distance."^ In

other words, merchant seamen, fishermen* watermen, bargemen* canal boat- ' i dwellers, or water-users of any description were doomed as potential

victims*

Theoretically* there were certain exemptions such as merchant

officers (chief mates* boatswains and carpenters), colliers* harpooners, i persons using the sea for less than two years (apprentices), etc,,7 but

when the press was hot, the impressers were usually not conscientious or

scrupulous enough to observe these trivial details* William Dillon* a

lieutenant assigned to the Impress Service in Hull in 1802 and 1803*

records an incident in which he impressed a strong powerful merchant 8 carpenter* who finally escaped* Again, in theory, any non-impressable

^For the history of manning the fleet until the eighteenth century, see Robinson* pp* 4-12-40*

^Lewis, p. 106* 7 For details* see Hutchinson, pp. 73-94*

^William Henry Dillion, A Narrative of Mv Professoral Adventures. 1790-1839 ("Publications of the Navy Records Society," Vol. XCVII; n*p«: Printed for the Navy Records Society, 1956), II, 10-11, person (such as a non-sea-usar) taken by the gang had his remedy at law;

but the law worked slowly, by the time the redress was heard, the injured party was not infrequently as far away as the West Indies or Calcutta.

There was no evading the ubiquitous press-gangs. On land they

loomed large in seaport-towns, though when necessity called for, it they

did not hesitate to go inland for operation. Streets, taverns, or

private lodgings— no place was safe for the seamen when the gangs were

out. Accounts of seamen of the period reveal that they constantly lived

in fear of being impressed and spent most of their energy devising

schemes such as disguising and forging HprotectionsN (papers certifying

legal exemptions of the holders) in order to evade impressment.

By far the most dangerous spots for the merchant seamen were on

the sea or near the seaports. The law frowned upon impressing seamen

from an outward-bound merchant ship, the reason being that commerce should

not be hurt too badly; but an inward-bound ship was fair game for every

press-gang nearby. William Richardson records that at the time of

Russian Armament he was in the merchant service in a slaver called the

Spy. Homeward-bound off Be achy Head, they were boarded by N.M.S. Nemesis.

which pressed the ship1s entire company except the Master, the Pilot,

himself (acting as Chief Mate) and four German sugar-bakers.^ The ship

was then brought to the harbor by a particular class of men called

Nticket-menN who went along with the press-gangs for that particular pur­

pose and were protected from impressment from other gangs.

9 William Richardson, A Mariner of England; An Account of the Caraar of W I U 11 Ri «hardson_ from Cabin Boy in the. Merchant Service to Warrant Officer in the (1780__to 1819) as Told bv Himsalf. ed. Colonel Spencer Childers (London: John Murrey, 1908), p. 66. .r*

1 5 0

The man-of-war was also not supposed to Impress the convoys it

was escorting during the voyage, but once they were near their destina- '

tion, the captain of the man-of-war was allowed to pick the best seamen

from the convoys. Whichever way the seaman turned the press-gang would

be waiting for him. Sometimes the Master of a merchant ship would be

very cooperative (probably for his own good) and provide hiding places

on board his ship for those who did not have "protections• " Robert Hay,

a merchant seaman of the early nineteenth century, relates how he once

escaped impressment by hiding in one of the "stow-holds" carefully built

in among the cargo. He gives a most exciting account of the press-gang* s

search of the holds. Thrusting his cutlass down to the hilt among the

sugar hogheads, one said, "I see you, my genius." "You may as well come

out quietly," said another. But this was only an old trick; Hay, glad

that he was more than a cutlass length down, "took special care to let

them have all the talk to themselves and to breathe softly." He stayed

thus for about half an hour and escaped.*^ John Nicol escaped cnce in

the same way, but was not so lucky another time:

1 was in the hold, sorting among the water casks, and escaped. They took every hand that would answer. I rejoiced in my escape, but my joy was of short duration. One of them they had taken had a sore leg, the boat brought him back, and I had the bad luck to be taken, and he was left.H

10Robert Hay, The Memoirs of Robert Hay. 1789-1847. ed, M. D. Hay (London: Rupert Hart-Davis, 1953), P* 209.

11John Nicol, The Life and Adventures of John Nicol. Mariner (London: Cassell & Co., 1937), p. 179* The first edition was edited by John Howell and published by Blackwood and Cadell (London) in 1822. 151

The average merchant seaman had plenty of reason to shy away from the navy. John Bechervaise, a quartermaster who had a great number of good things to say about the navy in 1839t admitted that during the

Napoleonic War "the dread of a ship of war was next to a French prison.

We shall examine some of the practical reasons why the Naval Service

i seemed so unattractive to the sailor* For the moment, let us dwell a little on the:unpleasant pictures that Immediately followed the impress­ ment* Dragged to the tender, the seaman was apt to see what C* R*

Pemberton did:

A hole * * * called the Steerage • • • I looked down, as I did so, a hot and pestilential effluvia rose and enveloped me, I looked through heavy wooden grating, across which was a strong iron bar with a huge padlock attached to it; and 1 saw that which threw me back almost fainting with horror* • • • In that short glance I had seen a crowded mass of disgusting and fearful heads, with eyes all glaring upwards from that terrible den; and heaps of filthy limbs, trunks and heads, bundled and scattered, scrambling, laughing, cursing, screaming and fighting at one moment*13

William Robinson (nicknamed "Jack Nastyface") tells us what fbllowed next in a similar situation:

We were ordered down in the hold, and the gratings put over us; as well as a guard of Marines placed round the hatchway, with their muskets loaded and fixed bayonets, as though we had been culprits of the first degree, or capital convicts*1^

12John Bechervaise, Thirty-Six Years of a Seafaring Life (Portsea: W* Woodward, 1839)» P«

^Charles Reece Pemberton, The Autobiography of Pel. Ver.iuice (London: The Scholartis Press, 1929), p* 101*

^■Sttlliam Robinson ("Jack Nastyface"), Nautical Economy: or Fore­ castle Recollections of Events during the Last War (London: By the author. n*d.) quoted in Sir William Laird Clowes. The Royal Navy; A History from the Earliest Times’to the Death of Queen Victoria (London: Sampson Low, Marston and Co., 1903), V, 20* 152 It was this type of callous treatment that made any proud* self-respecting seaman resent the navy.

In the same callous manner* the press-gangs made no allowances whether the seaman was coming home from a long voyage or whether he had had any shore leave in years* The reflection of the responsible warrant officer* William Richardson* who was no captious and unreasonable grumbler* is particularly significant:

People may talk of negro slavery and the whip, but let them look nearer home* and see a poor sailor arrived from a long voyage* exulting in the pleasure of soon being among his dearest friends and relations* Behold him just entering the door* when a press gang seizes him like a felon* drags him away and puts him into the tender's hold* and from thence he is sent on board a man-of-war* perhaps ready to sail to some foreign station* without seeing either his wife* friends or relations; if he complains he is likely to be seized up and flogged with a cat* much more severe than the negro driver's whip, and if he deserts he is flogged round the fleet near to death*15

Up to the end of the eighteenth century the individual captain was responsible for the complement of his crew and the press-gang he

sent out was usually headed by a lieutenant* Around 1795* in order to

consolidate the impressing efforts and eliminate inefficiency* the

Admiralty created a new institution— the Impress Service, which had its

own offices* rendezvous* and tenders. Under the new arrangement, the

individual captains simply sent in a request to the Service when seamen

were needed; thus, they were spared the sometimes embarrassing situation

of sending press-gangs to engage in cutthroat competition with their

brother captains* By 1797* the Service became a very large organization

t engaging the full time of one admiral* forty-seven captains and

■^Richardson, pp, 292-93* \\

153 commanders, and eighty lieutenants.^ Ejy that time, the general sources

of seamen became almost exhausted. In 1795 an Act was passed by Parlia­

ment to remedy the situation by raising non-seamen in every county in 17 England and Wales in proportion to its population. This was regarded

by some of the local magistrates as a heaven-sent opportunity to get rid

of their trouble-makers, jailbirds, thiefs, delinquents, and bankrupt

professional men. They were given the option of either going to jail or

joining the navy "voluntarily" with bounties. As the bounties sometimes

ran as high as seventy pounds many naturally chose the latter to ease

their financial embarrassments. This action hardly helped the reputa­

tion of the naval profession and the resentment it created among the

true-bred tars was understandable. However, the injection of the non­

seafaring element into the navy gradually did the navy more good than

harm for the professional seamen were made aware of the gross injustices

they suffered and other voices were added to their protests. It is

generally agreed nowadays that the excellent legal-minded organizers of

the Mutiny at Spithead must have been these "quota men." The components

of an average man-of-war at the end of the eighteenth century look like

this: 75 percent of the complement wexe seamen, the rest non-seamen.

Only 25 percent of the entire complement consisted of true volunteers; 13 the rest, conscripts.

l6_ . _ Lewis, p. 105.

17Ctaies, IV, 156.

^Michael Lewis, The Navy of Britain: A Historical Portrait (London: George Allen and Unwin Ltd., 19^9)* p. 317. After the Napoleonic War* Britain began to enjoy a relatively prolonged period of peace; however* its navy was still busy all over the world, maintaining the "pax Britannica*" an economic policy of enlightened self-interest, which asserts that all seas should be free to all countries,^ The navy nevertheless resumed its peacetime complement*

Between 1816 and 1839* for instance* Parliament*s annual vote of seamen never exceeded 25*000* Compared to the heyday of the Napoleonic War

(110,000 seamen for 1810, 1811, and 1812), this figure was quite small.20

The main reason why impressment was never revived during this period was simply that there was no real need for it* The commissioned captain usually had no trouble completing his crew— he had plenty of unemployed seamen to choose from* John Bechervaise, in his autobiography, records the sad situation of general unemployment even among good seamen, some pi of idiom were reduced to begging* In 1815* Bechervaise himself, with all his merchant seaman* s prejudices and apprehensions about the navy, was compelled by necessity to join a man-of-war. Again in 1825, he had to join a government ship for a scientific discovery voyage to Behrings 22 Spirits, because the ships of war and merchant service were so scarce* *

As the century progressed, the general conditions of the naval service were gradually improved and as the seaman's grievances were

"^For what this policy entailed, see Michael Lewis, The History of the British Navy (New Jersey: Essential Books, 1959), pp. 190-97.

Clowes, VI, 190-91.

^Bechervaise, pp* 107-108.

^Bechervaise, pp, 108-109; 1^+* \ *73.

1 5 5 remedied the navy presented a new image to the seamen* The age-honored

recruiting system through Impressment with no definite time limit on the

term was never legally abolished although it faded out with the passing

of the Merchant Seaman1 s Registration Act in 1635* This Act limited the

service of seamen in war-time to five years* After five years, they

were entitled to their discharges; or, under emergency, they could be

retained for a certain period on an increased allowance of one-fourth

more pay,23 The inauguration of the Continuous Service of seamen in

1853 provided a regulated long-term measure for seamen for the first

time in British history. According to this scheme all new men under

eighteen years of age were to be regulated by an engagement to serve for

ten years in continuity* An interval of paid leave was to be allowed

between engagements between ship and ship* On completing a first ten

years, seamen were given the option of engaging for two further periods

of five years each and by completing twenty years of service they were Oh entitled to a pension*6 It is true that during the late part of the

forty-year period of peace a shortage of seamen was still occasionally

felt by the Admiralty, especially during the war-scare of the Syrian

crisis in 1840 when the voted seamen jumped from 25*165 to 30,665, but

the problem of manning was considerably mitigated after these regulations*

The most important thing is that the impressment system was never revived*

23 Edward Pelham Brenton, The Naval History of Great Britain, from the year 1783 to 1836 (Londons Henry Colburn, 1837)» II» 683* 24- G. A* Ballard, "The Navy," Early Victorian England. 1830-1865. ed* G* M* Young (London: Oxford University Press, 1934), I, 329*

25Bartlett, p. 123; Clowes, VI, 190-91. 156 The Treatment of the Seaman

In the previous section the development of the Impressment system and the eventual solution for the problem of manning the fleet has been briefly discussed. In this section dealing with additional abuses the same pattern of describing conditions chronologically from eighteenth century to the nineteenth century will be followed.

Once a man had been impressed and put aboard a man-of-war he was rated. From that moment on the man lost his liberty and lived under the most severe mode of regimentation. The government might argue that under

the circumstances it was only logical to conscript merchant seamen as

the only qualified personnel to man its fleet. Whereas there might be

some truth In this argument, the way the sailors were treated after they were in the navy could never be justified. Of course, some of the

built-in disadvantages in the service could never be mitigated. For

instance, warships were apt to be more crowded and Hie rate of casualties

in the navy might be expected to be higher than that of the merchant

service. What the government could have done was to clothe, feed, and

pay its seaman properly so that some reasonable compensation was given;

but it did none of these things. Instead, it cancelled all his shore

leaves, withheld his wages, and remorselessly put him under severe

discipline. The general abuses (and their subsequent remedies) could be

grouped under the following categories: Pay, living conditions and

compensation, and corporal punishment. 157 Pay

, The pay of the seaman in the navy had never changed from the time of the Commonwealth until the mutiny at Spithead in 1797» while the

cost of living had doubled and tripled* What was more difficult for the seamahTto bear was the fact that the rates in the merchant service usually went up at the time the press-gang got him. For instance* on

the war scare of the Russian Aimanent in 1791* Richardson was earning I £2* 5so a month in the merchant service; when he was impressed in March

of that year and served four months in the navy* he only earned £4, 10s,^

This means that his monthly wages were onIy£l* 2s* 6d* Occasionally* when seamen became really scarce* the merchant service would even pay

£ 4 or £5 for an able seaman*^? The seaman* s resentment and disgust were

quite understandable under the circumstances* Furthermore, the Admiralty*

in order to discourage desertion and mutiny* only paid the ship*s company

when the ship*s mission was completed. The cruel cynicism was that as

long as the seaman felt the government owed him money he was more likely

to remain; therefore* the more slowly he was paid* the better for the

service* But a ship’s mission could take years; during this time a

seaman had to clothe himself by buying "slops" (clothes and bedding) at

an outrageous rate from the ship* s purser* who charged the bill against

his future pay* If he was married, his wife and family had to live on

2^ Richardson* p* 70; p* 73*

G* Bullocke* "The Mutiny at Spithead*" Mutiny I Being Accounts of Insurrections. Famous and Infamous, on Land and Sea, from the Davs of the Caesars to Modern Times, ed* Edmund Fuller (New York: Crown Publishers* Inc., 1953)» P* 86* 1 5 8 niggardly hand-outs from the gentle folk of the parish who actually owed their very property and lives to him.

The seamen as a whole were a rather unvocal race; however* the addition of non-seaman to their ranks helped them realize that they were not exactly in a powerless position to bargain with the government. The

Mutiny at Spithead in 1797 was a marvelous piece of strategy: the men I were well-organized, orderly in their conduct* and reasonable in their demands. The most important concession the Admiralty and Parliament gave

to this organized rebellion* which had the sympathy of the middle class* was granting a pay raise of roughly a shilling a day for the Able Seaman 28 and the rest of the crew accordingly.

This opened the door for adjusting rates in the future. In 1806,

the Able Seamen received an increase of a shilling a week in their wages

and Ordinary Seamen* 6d.* making the pay from Jan. 1, 180? up to the sum

of £ l * 13s. 6d. andfcl, 5s. 6d. a month respectively.^ In spite of the

raise in their wages the seamen sometimes still received little benefit

from it since the heinous practice of paying the company only after the

ship had finished its mission still prevailed. Testifying in Parliament

in 1811* Lord Dundonald* then Lord Cochrane, presented a long list of

ships in the East Indies where the pay was long over due. The Centurion.

for instance* had been there eleven years. In one extreme case* the

Rattlesnake, after fourteen years in commission* came home with only one

^^Manwaring and Dobree* p. 47

2 9 Manwaring and Dobree* p. 257* / 159

man of the first crew! Not one farthing of pay had been given during all

that period to any of those men* "The seamen," he concluded, "from the

want of their pay, had no means of getting many necessaries of the

utmost consequence to their health and comfort*If the delegates of

the Mutiny at the Spithead made a mistake, it was perhaps that of not

demanding a more regular payment of their wages*

However, reformation was in the wind; gradually, even that

irregularity was corrected by the Admiralty* Writing in 1822, Capt*

Marryat, whose sea novels were a source of great wealth for some of the

playwrights of the period, was happy to report that "according to the

present regulations, ships are not kept out more than two years, and have

an advance previously to their sailing. On the home station, they are

paid regularly every six months,"31 At the beginning of the Victorian

period the seaman was permitted to allot his wages monthly as they fell

due, in whole or in part to his family or friends residing in the United ( Kingdom. The allotments were to be paid directly to the recipients by the 32 Admiralty*'' Introduction of good service badges, increase of petty

officers, etc*, also served as enticements to make the navy more attrac­

tive as a career to the young people„ But even with all these improve­

ments , we must remember the cold fact that the rates of pay in the navy

were not compatible with those in the ocean-going merchantmen or the

30 , Thomas Dundonald, Autobiography of a Seaman (London: Richard Bentley, i860), II, 182. 31 Captain Frederick Marryat, Suggestions for the Abolition of the Present System of Impressment, in the Naval Service (London: J* M* Richardson, 1822), p* 16* 32Ballard, I, 329. I

160

American navy* In a period of prosperity* a sailor could expect to draw twice as much on a merchant ship while doing similar duties.33

Living conditions and compensation

As a rule the living quarters on board a man-of-war were crowded; the sailors slept at night in hammocks on the lower-deck, packed like

sardines* row after row* stretching across the ship from side to side. 34 Up to 1850, the rule was still "fourteen inches to a man." However, in most ships the watches were berthed alternately* a man of the larboard watch alternating with a man of the starboard watch in each row of

hammocks* so that at night every other hammock in each row was vacant.

Thus* the crowded pressure was somewhat reduced.

Food was miserable, sometimes villainous. Chart II* reproduced

from Regulations and Instructions of the navy* 1808* shows the proportion

of provisions allotted to every person. The diet hardly sounds appe­

tizing and it was not what the twentieth century, with its knowledge of

proteins and vitamins* would term nutritious or balanced. The provisions

were nearly always issued on a reduced scale, the general custom being to

mess the men "six upon four," an arrangement by which six men lived on

the allowance of four men. The quality of the limited commodities that

were issued was extremely poor. The meat was invariably salted and

stale by the time it was eaten, the custom in the navy being that old

meat should be served first. Frequently it had been several years in

33Bartlett, p. 311.

^Bartlett, p. 311. l6l

CHART II

a l l o w a n c e : o f p r o v i s i o n s

(From Regulations and Instructions, ISOS)*

There shall be allowed to every person serving in His Majesty* s Ships, a daily proportion of Provisions, as expressed in the following Table:

Bisket Beer Beef Pork Pease Oat­ Sugar Butter Cheeses lbs. gals. lbs. lbs. pints meal ozs. ozs, ozs. pints

1 Sunday 1 1 - 1 1/2 - -

Monday 1 1 -- - 1/2 2 2 4

Tuesday 1 1 2 - — -- m mm

Wednesday 1 1 - - 1/2 1/2 2 2 4

Thursday 1 1 mm 1 1/2 - - mm

Friday 1 1 - 1/2 1/2 2 2 4

Saturday 1 1 2 - -. - -

Forming a weekly pro- 7 7 4 2 2 1 1/2 6 6 12 portion to each man of

together with an allowance of vinegar, not exceeding half a pint to each man per week.

♦ Reproduced from Michael Levis, A Social History of the Navy. 1793-1815 (London: George Allen & Unwin Ltd,, i960), p. 404, salt before It came to the cook. The meat was mostly bone, fat and i gristle. Its miserable state may be inferred from the fact that the sailors spoke of it as junk, or old condemned hemp rope,35 The biscuit was the most liberal ration, but the quality was equally deplorable.

They were extremely hard when fresh; when stale, they became soft and took on an unpleasant, sourish taste, and began to breed weevils. When

James Durand, an American sailor, was captured by the British navy shortly before the American War, he complained bitterly about the general quality and quantity of the food and maintained that ttin America, we 36 ordinarily feed our swine better than this.Hj

The last item to be considered is liquids. The water was not 1 always drinkable. It was river water to begin with and consequently far

from pure. Stored in wooden casks, it became thin and slimy and full of marine flora after some time on a voyage. No sailor would drink it as

long as he had something else to substitute for it. Here enters into

the picture the one great joy in the hard life of a sailor on board a

man-of-war. At the beginning of each voyage, the company drank beer.

Usually, it was bad beer, but it was probably better than the water and

at any rate it gave a new taste to his mouth. When the storage of beer

was exhausted, spirits were served twice everyday. The grog (one gill of

35John Masefield, Sea Life in Nelsons Time (New York: The Macmillan Co,, 1925), p. 144,

36 James Durand, An Able Seaman of 1812: His Adventures on "Old Ironsides" and as an Impressed Sailor in the British Navy, ed. George S. Brooks (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1926), p. 42; p. 50* The first edition was published by £, Peck & Co. (Rochester, N. Y.) in 1820, rum mixed with three gills of water) periods were the high lights of a sailor*s day.

Drunkenness has been observed as the most common phenomenon in the eighteenth century British Navy, and the cause of many an unhappy ending for seamen* However« when we consider the hardships the sailors “i had to go through every day (they were remorselessly drilled and worked under an exacting discipline),3? the issue of rum to them might even be considered a humanitarian act— but for the severe penalty the Admiralty specified for the drunkard. Many a man regarded grog as an anodyne— an antidote against the poison of every day living* John Bechervaise, a sober man himself, confesses that

to a person not acquainted with the navy, it would almost appear incredible, the various schemes the drunkard makes use of to obtain an extra quantity of grog; no trouble is too great, no power to resist temptation; men who would shrink from a dishonest action, and who might be trusted with sums of money, will steal a bottle of rum* • • *3®

Since grog was one of the very few things that could temporarily enliven the miserable existence of the sailor on board a man-of-war, no one dared to lay sacrilegious hands upon his half-pint until 1824 when i financial substitutes were offered.

The lack of fresh fruits and vegetables in the diet caused one of the worst diseases on board a ship-of-war, scurvy* Poor Richardson suffered a severe attack of it in 1793*^ The situation was a little

37 For a detailed account of everyday schedule in the week see Bechervaise, pp* 110-21* OO Bechervaise, p* 116*

^Lewis, A Social History . . .. p. 399. Bartlett, p. 312. 40 Richardson, pp. 110-11* 164 better after 1797 when the Admiralty made another concession to the mutineers in promising them the issue of fresh vegetables and new flour

when in port.^ The introduction of the quota men to the navy also

brought jail-fever to the ships, to the great humiliation of the true-

bred brine-pickled tars* Some of the crowded ships in the West Indies

were also subjected to various tropical diseases such as yellow fever 42 and typhus.

As in everything else, the Admiralty had treated the sailor

rather unfairly with regard to provision'for the wounded and the sick.

Up to the end of the eighteenth century the wounded were discharged from

the service without pay after six weeks ashore. Those who had incurable

diseases were also discharged and left to take care of themselves as

best they could ashore.^3 This was another of the very few areas where

the Admiralty made some concession to the Mutineers at Spithead. From

that time on the wounded were to continue receiving pay and the disabled

and the incurable would be either pensioned or housed at the Greenwich

Hospital. In addition, the pension was raised fromi.7 to£lO per year.^

In 1314, the Greenwich Hospital underwent considerable expansion

and, theoretically, every man in the Royal Navy and the Royal Marines

was entitled to a place in the hospital or an out-pension if he was found

41 Robinson, p. 392.

42Lewis, A Social History.. . ., pp. 403-414.

^Robinson, p. 392.

^Manwaring and Dobree, p. 43. 165 to qualify under the rather intricate rules of the institution. The lucky ones who secured a place seen to have lived very contentedly, receiving free board and lodging and one shilling a week in pocket- money. These were mostly hand-picked, brine-pickled survivors of a gruelling existence from which their weak brothers had already been eliminated. Most of them, of course, deserved some carefree and happy years on government pay after their life-long service, and some of them did enjoy notorious longevity. In 1803, for instance, there were 45 ninety-six octogenarians, sixteen nonagenarians, and one centenarian. *'

However, not all the deserving were granted admission. In the years immediately following 1815 there were always more applicants than the hospital could take. Poor John Nicol, who had served through two wars voluntarily, was denied a pension because of his lack of influence with

the administration. An old man of sixty-seven in 1822, he contenqplated, not without indignation, the rather gloomy alternative that awaited him:

Then I must go to the poor>s-house, which God in His mercy forbid. I can look to my death-bed with resignation: but to the poorts-house I cannot look with composure. I have been a wanderer and the child of chance all ny days, and now only look for the time when I shall enter ay last ship, and be anchored with the green turf upon my breast: and I care not how soon the command is given. • •

He was one of the few who had voluntarily joined the navy at a tender age

out of a romantic impulse. His fate, while disheartening, exemplifies

the unfairness of the practice.

45 Lewis, A Social History . . . . pp. 415-16.

^Nicol, p. 215. 1 6 6

Corporal punishment

Literally dragged Into a service which offered less pay and worse living conditions than the merchant service, the poor impressed fellow had to suffer the indignity of being put under a most exacting and severe discipline. Contemporary records on this subject make the most severe treatment of criminals today sound mild by comparison.

Even in 1827, the Articles of War were still those framed in

17^9, which prescribed twenty-two offenses for which any court martial could pass sentence of death, including ten where such a sentence was compulsory,^ flogging and long-term imprisonment could be ordered by any captain on his own warrant. For striking “an admiral, a commodore,

captain, or lieutenant," or “for attempting to escape," no matter how severe the provocation, the most lenient punishment inflicted was flogging through the fleet.As far as the sailor was concerned the most excruciatingly painful and spiritually degrading punishment was

flogging.

Descriptions of this famous cruelty in contemporary seamens

autobiographies were almost ritual. The offender, stripped to the waist

with his hands tied to the grating, was whipped by the Boatswain*s mates

with the cat-o*-nine-tails, which was made of tough knotted cord, about

two feet long. One blow was sufficient to take off the skin and to draw

blood wherever the knots fell. At the turn of the century, one sailor

^Ballard, p, 322, 48 Masefield, p, 164, .

16?

who was not unused to witnessing such punishments reported: "Not two

dozen of these dreadful lashes have been inflicted: the laoerated back

looks inhuman; it resembles roasted meat burnt nearly black before a

scorching fire."^ Almost as distressing as the punishment itself was

the horrid ceremony with which it was accompanied. Figure *4-2 depicts

such an occasion. The whole ship’s company has fallen in, the marines

under arms upon the poop. The captain and lieutenants stood on the

weather quarter-deck. The doctor and purser fell in to leeward, under

the break of the poop, with the boatswain and boatswain’s mates in a

little gang in front of them. The rolling of a drum was used to create

an atmosphere of awful solemnity.

According to an Admiralty regulation issued in 1731* no captain

was to inflict more than twelve lashes upon the bare back of a sailor 50 with a cat of nine tails without a court martial, but some captains

simply ignored it. By the end of the century, a few dozen strokes were

considered nothing; they were usually awarded for very small offenses.

Leech records that one of his colleagues received four dozen for slow­

ness in working the sail.^

For striking a superior, for desertion and sometimes for theft,

the punishment was severe. The offender, usually after a court-martial,

was sentenced to be flogged round the fleet. This meant that he was

/|Q Samuel Leech, Thirty Years from Home; or. a Voice from the Main Deck (London: J. S. Pratt, 18*45)* P* 37*

^°Manwaring and Dotree, p. 2*47.

"^Leech, p. 36, Fig* ^2*— A scene of flogging on board a man-of-war, reproduced from Samuel F Holbrook, Three Score Years (Bostons James French and Co*, 185?), Fig* 2* H ON 00 169 tied up In a boat, rowed round in turn to every ship in the fleet, and by the side of each one was to receive a stipulated number of lashes.

The rule was very strict; the whole number of lashes must be executed

even though sometimes it had to take several times to do it. Richardson, who was a warrant officer in the navy from 1780 to l8L9t reports an

incident where two convicted deserters sentenced to receive three

hundred lashes had to defer some of the lashes till a later date because

they could not endure the pain.^ Nicol relates that one sailor while

assisting to bring a merchant ship into port stole some money from it

and was subsequently sentenced to three hundred lashes for the crime.^3

Another of Leech*s stories about this punishment sounds even more bizarre.

A man was charged by a "most rascally unprincipledw midshipman for steal­

ing a handkerchief. In vain did the poor wretch assert that he found it

under his hammock. He was duly court-martialed and sentenced to receive

three hundred lashes through the fleet and one year*s imprisonment. He

had to receive the flogging in two separate times: two hundred fifty I •• ck lashes the first time, the rest after the wounds were healed. Durand,

during his adventure as a sailor both in the American and British

navies between 1801 and I8l6, had witnessed whipping through the fleet

on both sides several times, but one such instance in which an impressed

American sailor was punished for desertion was most macabre and shocking.

‘’^Richardson, p. 292.

^Nicol, p. 63. 54 Leech, p. 70. 170 He was sentenced to being flogged round the fleet with three hundred lashes:

As John Armstrong was alongside the last ship» he expired tinder the brutality of the punishment* So they gave his body ten lashes after he had died* His corpse was carried to the hospital and the doctors gave it as their opinion that some blood vessel broke inwardly and caused his death* * * • -*

Sometimes* as many as 500 lashes were awarded* Richardson cites such an instance in the mutiny on the Castor in 1802*^

It would be naive to maintain that all the officers during the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries were brutal and sadistic*

Humane and considerate officers were not infrequently remembered1with gratitude in the seamen*s reminiscences*-^ As a rule* however* the latter were very rare* We are told by "Jack Nastyface," who served on the

Revenge from 1805 to 1811, that only two captains out of nine of the line in the fleet he served were humane, the rest implicitly ranged from the severe to the brutal*-*® "Captains there are," concludes one naval historian* "who seemingly delight in such work [flogging]; and who, were

the cruise long enough* would not leave a sailor belong to the ship with an unscarred back*"^9 Another famous historian also states, "some, even

among the most gallant officers in the service* were guilty of

55 Durand, pp* 65-66,

^Richardson, p* 187*

^Richardson, p. 105; Bechervaise, p. 118; p* 143; Hay, pp* 91-92*

-*®WLUiam Robinson ("Jack Nastyface") quoted in Clowes, V, 20* 59 William James, Maval History of Great Britain (London: Macmillan, 1902), II, 65* extraordinary brutality to their men."^ It was little wonder that the naval history of Britain during the period was so full of mutinies.

We are all familiar with the story of the mutiny on the Bounty. in which the unrelenting chronic inhumanities of Captain HLigh provoked his men to rebellion. And Captain Pigot of the Hermione was no less a sadistic maniac than Capt. Bligh. The outcome of the latter mutiny in

1797 was most gruesome, but the mutineers were certainly not unprovoked.

Ships under such captains were virtually floating hells. During the i Mutiny at the Nore. the entire crew of the Nvmohe declared above their signatures:

We are kept more like convicts than free-born Britons. . . . Flogging is carried on to extremes, one man received three dozen for what was termed silent contempt, which was nothing more than this. After being beat by a Boatswain1s mate, the man smiled, this was the unpardonable crime. Another was flogged for not going the rigging quick enough, and another - for not sending him down as was supposed smart enough. • • • ^

Besides flogging, other punishments, almost equally savage, could be dealt out to the men at the irresponsible will of a superior. A boat­

swain or his mates could "start" (strike with knotted rattans) the men

at will. Richardson, after thirteen years in the merchant service, was

impressed into the navy in 1791* He immediately noticed the differences

in discipline between the merchant and the naval services:

Although the usage was good in general on board the London, yet I did not altogether like their manner of discipline, for soon after I got on board we had to cat the anchor, and in running along with the foul, boatswain*s mates were placed

60Qowes, IV, 159. 61 Quoted in Manwaring and Dobree, p. 59* 172

on each side, who kept thrashing away with their rattans on our backs, making no difference between those that pulled hard and those that did not.62

Sailors understandably suffered more from tyrannic warrant officers and lieutenants, who were their direct superintendents, than from the captain.

Other manners of punishment include "running the gauntlet" and

"gagging." The former, usually awarded for small theft, required the offended to strip to the waist and to be whipped through two rows of men armed with tightly knotted rope yarns. Since the strikes fell indis- criminatingly on the head as well as the exposed upper part of his body, some deemed it more painful than flogging. The other punishment was inflicted at the time of the offense being committed, which usually meant talking back to an officer:

The man is placed in a sitting position, with both his legs in irons, and his hands secured behind him; his mouth is then forced open, and an iron bolt put across, well secured behind his head. • • .63

Naval discipline had been humanized slightly in the first half

of the nineteenth century as a result of the Admiralty*s increasing

interest in the matter which prompted frequent requests for explanation

whenever a large number of lashes had been awarded. In 1830, a maximum

sentence of forty-eight lashes without court martial was introduced, and

a warrant with full details of the crime and the guilty party* s previous

record had to be made out by the captain at least twelve hours before

^Richardson, p. 58.

^William Robinson ("Jack Nastyface") quoted by Clowes, V, 30. V

173 the infliction of the punishment (save in the case of mutiny In

I860, Parliament amended the Articles of War for the first time in one

hundred and eleven years, reducing the offenses in which a death sentence

was permissible to seventeen, and those in which it was compulsory to

treason and murder only* flogging from then on was to be a court-martial

punishment, and a captain*s power of imprisonment was to be limited to

three monthsThe number of such punishments in proportion to the

number of men in the Service was halved in the course of the 1840*s . ^

In 1866, the New Naval Discipline Act was passed, which was followed by

the issue of a circular restricting the infliction of corporal punish­

ment in peacetime, and the year 18?9 saw the practical abolition of

flogging.^

In this chapter an attempt has been made to describe some of the

common grievances of the seaman in the late eighteenth and early nine­

teenth century British Navy. It is hoped that this description will

provide a proper frame of reference for the reader of the nautical drama i of social protest such as Jerrold*s. Since at the time of his writing * many of these abuses in the navy had not been corrected, it is obvious

that there was validity in Jerrold’s protest even though his approach to

these problems was indirect and sentimental.

64 Bartlett, p. 61.

65Ballard, I, 322.

^Bartlett, p. 6l,

67&owes, VII, 73. CHAPTER VI

THE TWO TRADITIONS OF THE NAUTICAL DRAMA (1830-1843)

Introduction

Unlike the plays studied In the first two periods, which were confined to those of Fitzball and Jerrold and were the products of the

Adelphi and the Surrey Theatre, the sixteen plays selected for survey during the period 1830-43 involve seven or eight playwrights and were initially produced at the Surrey, Sadler*s Wells, the Coburg (later i Victoria), the Queen*s, and the Royal Pavilion Theatre, (The authors and production data for these plays are given in Appendix A,)

These sixteen nautical plays clearly follow the conventions laid down by Fitzball and Jerrold, While the playwrights drew largely and

sometimes indiscriminately from the legacy of melodramatic gimmicks of

both pioneers, it is still possible and practical to designate any of

these plays as following in one or the other tradition.

It is to be understood that the term "the Jerrold tradition" in

the following usage does not merely mean the slavish adherence of later

playwrights to Jerrold's structural machinations (his anti-captain

convention, interest in the anatomy of mutinies, the last minute reprise,

etc.). The terms* more important connotation refers to the other

innovations Jerrold brought to the nautical drama: the tendency toward

realism, relating subject matter to life, humanization of the nautical

characters, and appeal to audience sympathy through the display of pathos

and domestic sentimentality. 175 In the same manner* the Fitzball tradition* aside from close observation to the earlier formula* refers to the kind of pre-Jerrold disregard for reality and aims at adventure and nautical spectacle.

Since the Jerrold tradition was short-lived* we will discuss it first.

The Jerrold Tradition

The anti-captain convention

The Sea probably is the only nautical play that follows Jerrold* s anti-captain plot very closely. Like his predecessor, Capt. Crosstree, in The HLack-Eved Susan. Capt. Mandeville tries to offer violence to

Mary, the wife of one of his crew* when she is on board the Windson

Castle, an Indiaman. The indecorous action is checked in time by her husband* Henry Helm. However* Henry does not strike the villainous

captain down; he only lashes the latter with his tongue in front of the

crew:

Think me not deficient in respect* messmates* in branding our Captain with so disgraceful a name. He has a base design on my wife . . . (I, vi)

To which the crew answers to a man: "Shame, Captain* shame!" A mutiny

results* in which the Europeans were pitted against the Indians who are

on the Captain*s side. In the course of the first act, Henry is seized

and forced "to walk the plank,H loses his hand* and disappears in the

ocean. The ship is shortly wrecked in a storm, and the act closes with

two tableaux vivants showing Mary and her infant tossing in the sea and

their subsequent rescue. As far as the nautical interest is concerned*

the play stops there: the second act* which takes place eighteen years

later, mainly concerns the retribution of justice. The infant has grown into a manly sailor. When he finds out the cause of his father*s death. he decides to take action. Captain Mandeville. now a respectable retired country esquire, is driven to suicide out of fear of exposure. The contrivance of the play defies the credibility of the modern reader, and it apparently did not convince more discerning contemporary critics either. Th« lfrirymflwar commented:

Throughout the piece there is a flagrant violation of the nautical proprieties. Captains are familiarly discussing, disputing, squabbling, and scuffling with their seamen; and discipline is so far forgotten that a common sailolr orders out a boat as one might call for a hackney-coach; . . .

But our imitative author* s blemishes are not merely confined to problems

of naval etiquette and discipline. The same reviewer also pointed out a legal discrepancy: i

As the sailor, under the strongest provocation, has committed an act of mutiny, (for which the law refuses the plea of any provocation.) it is not easy to see why the barbarous captain should have apprehended punishment for murder.1

Even though the author of The Sea patterns his drama on Jerrold* s machina­

tion of love rivalry and the villainous captain, the imitation is only

superficial. The author does not touch on any of the social problems,

to which Jerrold showed such partiality.^

^The Examiner. September 29, 1833» P* 615. p Nicoll does not list this 1833 production at the Queen*s. His date for its first performance was May 18, 1842, at the Olympic. Two other unpublished nautical plays by Somerset are included in Nicoll*s playlist (A History of English 1660-1900. IV, 405): The Union Jack: ar. The Sailor and Settler*s Daughter (Surrey. November 7, 1842) and Nautical Tom and Jerry (Liverpool, January 7t 1843). 177

The anti-impressment theme

Whereas in The Sea the revolt of the seamen is essentially against a corrupt captain, in Jacob Faithful the revolt is aimed at an entire wicked system* Tom Beasley, an apprentice to a Thames waterman is illegally impressed on a tender* During the course of the play, he desertsa enlists in the army while drunk, deserts again, and is facing the death penalty at the beginning of III, vii* His anti-naval speeches are probably just as vehement as those of Jerrold* s mutineers* Informing his friend Jacob that he will probably be shot after sentencing, he says,

"It*s better than being hung like a dog, or being flogged to death like i a nigger * * * I would rather endure twenty such deaths than live stained by the seam of the disgraceful catH (III, vii). His anti-government reasoning is so persuasive that it is almost untinged by personal bitterness:

I have not done wrong— I was pressed against the law, and I deserted; I was enlisted when I Was drunk and mad, and I deserted: there is no disgrace to me; the disgrace is to the government which suffers such acts; if I am to be the victim, well and good— we can only die once* (III, vii)

Not only are the sentiments similar to those expressed by Jerrold; the play even uses the same deus ex machina as in The Press-Gang: through the intervention of his good friend Jacob, Tom is reclaimed by the navy as a deserter and after a fair trial is set free because his impressment was illegal in the first jfLace* figure 43» a reproduction of the frontispiece in the Dicks* edition, depicts the joyful moment when Tom is released* 1 7 8

Fig, ^3.— Frontispiece in Dicks' Standard Plays edition of Jacob Faithful, depicting a moment of joy in Act III, Scene vii, undated. 179 The play follows the Jerrold tradition in one other important respect: it depicts the life of the Thames watermen in a rather realistic manner* The characters are recognizable individuals with human weak­ nesses* The most interesting portrait is that of Mary Strapleton*

Unlike her insipid* colorless sisters in other nautical plays, she is well-delineated and full of spirits* An incorrigible flirt who makes all her beaux miserable, Mary is unwilling to accept Jacob1 s remonstra- tion regarding her inconstancy:

Why doesn’ t Tom come back and take care of me then! I can*t , mope here by myself— father* s always at the Feathers— I must have somebody to talk to* (III, ii)

Despite glimpses of honest realism, the {lay is still not immune from

t the prevailing melodramatic pattern of virtue-triumphant and total

villainy* Jacob Faithful, the rather priggish good Samaritan is rewarded with a respectable bourgeoise wife for his honesty and diligence and

becomes a gentleman in the end. The villain Fleming, Tom’s rival in

love, is blamed for the letter’s impressment as well as his subsequent

enlistment in the army,3

3 We have noted that Jerrold borrowed heavily from Marryat’s novel The King’s Own for incidents in his The Mutiny at the Nore. This time Marryat seemed to have returned the courtesy by imitating the denouement in Jerrold* s The Press-Gang. As far as original ideas are concerned, Haines’s contribution is relatively small* So faithful was his first version that nit took more than four hours acting" on the open­ ing night (The Theatrical Observer* December 10, 183^)* Davidge, the manager at the Surrey, who also gave a brilliant performance as Old Tom Beaszley, was compelled to announce its repetition until further notice* "He apologized," says Tha Timas. December 9* 183*+, p* 5* "fox' the defects it contained by stating that he was eager to be first in the field to afford amusement to the public, and that the drama should, before the next representation, be so amended as to secure and merit their approba­ tion*" A week later, another adaptation by Dibdin Pitt was produced at the Victoria* It received some good notices: Pitt "has executed his 180 Captain Ross and the contemporary navy

Captain Roas is the only nautical play under present survey that sets its scene on the contemporary rather than the historical British

Navy. Aside from its topicality in Captain Ross*s celebrated Arctic expedition, ^ the play has other assets to recommend it. Probably for the first time in the nautical drama, one sailor is clearly distinguishable from another in dialogue as well as in temperament. The group of sailors that accompany Captain Ross on his discovery mission are all so highly individualized that the play is filled with credible motivations and genuine conflicts. Even though the story still follows the prevail­ ing melodramatic structure of good vs. evil, the resentment and profes­ sional jealousy of Will Blake, the villain of the piece, is dearly delineated. His persecution complex resulting from the contemptuous treatment of his colleagues, especially Will Weathergale, fair-haired boy of the captain, does not fail to arouse our sympathy.

Allusions to contemporary life both inside and outside the navy are amply made. For instance. Will Weathergale* the good-natured but

task in a very dever manner, condensing with skill all the principal inddents of the novel . . ." (The Theatrical Observer. December 13, 183*0. The play "has been more successful than elsewhere, exactly in the ratio of its superior brevity." (The London Literary Gazette. Decem­ ber 20, 1834, p. 852). But apparently Haines*s version after revision, which cut down the time in presentation to two hours and thirty minutes, turned out to be more successful than Pitt*s: the latter*s adaptation folded up shortly after December 22, while the former lingered on beyond January 18, 1835* (See "Under the Clock," The Times. December 19, 1835* p. 4; December 23, 1835, p* 4; and January 12 and 19, 1835, P* 4). 4 See Appendix B on nautical drama and current events. 1 181 sharp-tongued veteran seaman, makes the following joke when a stowaway is found in a meat cask:

I’m blessed if he ar’nt the largest maggot I ever seed crawl out of a pork cask in my life* (I, iii)

The reference is obviously to the stale meat so familiar to the crew of an early nineteenth-century British war-ship on a long journey. When the chimney sweeper is asked what made him seek a naval career, he replies,

That what’s ruined many a poor fellow— machinery* All the chimleys now a days is cleaned out by them there jointed broom machines what brushes sweeps out of a living* * . • (I. iii)

In another instance, when Will Weathergale sees the parade of a group of colorfully dressed Indian women, he remarks: "They look right uns. You 1 couldn’t get a better choice in Raddiff Highway" (II, i). The allusion, i now obscure, obviously refers to some colorful place well known to the contemporary local audience

The main story line closely follows Captain Ross’s expedition in the Victory to the Arctic Region; however, the historic facts are linked

i with the fictional romantic adventure of a girl in love with Captain

Ross’s handsome nephew (Fig. ^4). Qara Truemore disguises herself as a sailor and sails with the crew. Unaware of her sex, an unfortunate

Indian woman, the wife of the Cathahagan chief, falls in love with her,

The dramas at the Pavilion during this period must have been largely of a local and partisan nature. In one of the rare occasions the Times reviewer visited this remote suburban theatre and found that a play entitled The Benevolent Jew of St. Marv-Axe was "chiefly intended to illus­ trate the virtues of the Hebrew character and supply certain interesting statistical information relative to the suburban district of Good-man’s Fields* It was, however, applauded most vociferously from the commence­ ment to the dose" (December 27, 1831, p. 3)« 1 8 2

JSXfVrAJU) X.03 6

Fig. 44.— M. & M. toy theatre print of Cline as Edward Ross in Captain Ross, undated. The Victoria and Albert Museum. OSUTC Film No. 1?14. which results In the deaths of both the Indian woman and the tale-telling

Will Blake* In one respect, the play may be regarded as a forerunner of our modern "enlightened" western movies. The Indians are depicted as emotional savages who "know but of two alternatives— love or hatred," yet are still credited with the capacity to distinguish the good white men from the bad. i Mjy Poll and Mv Partner Joe and the appeal to pathos

Haines% second nautical play qualifies as a play in the Jerrold tradition mainly because it indulges in pathos and treats the domestic side of a sailor’s life. Like his first play, Jacob Faithful, the sub­ ject matter concerns the life of the watermen. Harry Hallitard, the

Pride of Battersea Hard, is impressed into the navy through the villainy of H a c k Brandon. But this time, no prurient interest is involved. The appeal to audience sympathy is made first in the cruel separation of

Harry from Mary; it is further attempted in the forced separation of the negress Zamba from her husband Zinga aboard the SOLaver, whose captain is no other than Black Brandon.

If villainy seems to loom too large in the first two acts to

evoke our genuine sympathy for the victims of the over-contrived situ­ ations, the circumstances under which Harry finds himself after five years of roaming the sea provide a genuine conflict for domestic drama. 1

After saving up all his earnings, he finds out his mother is dead and his I

181* sweetheart has married his best friend Joe* To the modern ear the following reaction might sound somewhat crass:

(Paralyzed) Godi married? Mary* that I have loved so truly* marriedI Ohl (laughing hysterically) Hal hat haI— It*s a lieI (wildly) you may as well trifle with a hungry sharkI Come, tell the truth* * * * (III* iii)

Then he bursts into tears* If the stage directions on his first encounter with Mary sound too sentimental and melodramatic (she faints in his arms 1 upon seeing him; he is "overpowered with emotion" while she "still kneeling to him: relates the circumstances of her marriage)* we have reason to believe the actors in the original cast did quite a convincing job of it* The following Timas review reflects the dramatic taste of the time and it also provides a valuable record of the acting of the piece:

It is by far the best thing of the sort that has made its appearance for some time* There are of necessity some exaggerations of sentiment* and some improbabilities of inci­ dent; but these are to be pardoned when nature is not1 too far overstepped, and it is remembered that dramatic effect re­ quires something stronger to excite sympathy than the common occurrences of everyday life* * * * The acting of T* P* Cooke and Hiss Maearthy is worthy the highest encomium* There is a great deal of true pathos in the concluding scenes of this drama which it required considered talent to repre­ sent with fidelity* * * .6

Since it is a melodrama* a happy ending is obligatory. The solution the author works out, we must admit, is less than honest— a falls on

Joe while he is working on a barge* He is not allowed to die until he joins the hands of the ill-starred lovers with blessings and produces the will of Harry* s mother which sanctioned his marriage with MaryI

6 The Times. September 1* 1835* P* 6 * 185

Nautical scenery

In this section we will consider the variety of nautical scenery contained In the four plays of the Jerrold tradition discussed above*

The gruesome scene of cruelty. We have noted that JerroldTs nautical scenes are cerebral rather than mechanical and that the unpleasant side of the navy (disciplinary measures) is shown to stress poignancy in the miscarriage of justice* In Somerset*s The Sea, however* the disciplinary sensation degenerates into pure morbidity*

The cruel captain orders Henry to"walk the plank,* a scene for which the prompt notes give the following description:

The plank is placed half on deck and hal!f projecting over the ship*s side* * * * Henry ascends the fatal plank, and walks off the end into the sea* (I, iv)

"Walking the plank" was largely a piratical practice in the early cen­ turies; it was never used in the eighteenth-century British Navy* How­ ever cruel corporal punishment had been, the Government still believed that a sailor alive was more useful to it than dead* But the pioneer of the grand guienol type of exhibition does not just stop there* Henry regains the ship and clings to her side with one hand (the arrangement of the ship must have been like I, iv, of The Red Rover, with the railing upstage parallel to the curtain), and the captain orders: "Chop off his hand*"

Music*— ▲ Malay carpenter runs with axe to the ship*s side, and severs the hand, which is taken on board by Peter Poultice, while Henry Helm sinks with a deep groan* (I, iv)

This hardly follows the best of the Jerrold tradition, and under the

circumstances the exhibition of cruelty is quite unnecessary. 186 To a lesser degree, Heines manages the same type of sensation In

II, 11, of Mv Poll and My Partner Joe. The scene takes place "between 1 Decks of a Slave Ship— the Ports open— -the Hatchway seen, C." The arrangement of the scenic units are suggested in Figure 45, a reproduc­ tion of the M, & M. Skelt,s toy theatre print for this scene. The slave ship has been chased by the frigate Polvphenus. to which the newly

Impressed Harry belongs. When the chase gets really dose, Branton, the captain of the Slaver hits upon an idea to slow down the frigate.

Counting on the humanitarian instinct of the British Navy, he orders his crew to put a negress in an empty hogshead and let it float. After the negress has been dragged off stage and presumably thrown overboard from the upper-deck, the prompt notes read:

Shrieks as of Zamba heard in the shouts— they grow fainter as she is seen through the port-holes floating away, (II, ii)

The plan works, and at least the audience is spared any further physical violence.

The use of tableaux vivants. We find two instances where tableaux vivants were used to enhance scenic interest, A standard scenic practice by this time, the use of tableaux vivants in a broad sense can be regarded as a variation of Jerrold*s static nautical scenery.

In The Sea, after Harry has been engulfed by the waves, a storm arises; and the ship is eventually wrecked, Mary and her infant are swept off into the sea. At this moment the scene changes to

A Storm— part of the Wreck of the Windsor Castle discovered, R, the Bowsprit extending sufficiently to realize two beautiful pictures by Dawe— First, a Female struggling with an Infant in her arms, against the raging billows— second, that of a brave Seaman, letting himself down from the Bowsprit, and thus suspended between air and ocean, snatching both the Mother and her Infant from a watery grave, (I, vi) Fig* & M. toy theatre print for Act II, Scene ii, My Poll and My Partner Joe, undated. The Victoria and Albert Museum. OSUTC Film No. 1716*. 187 i 188

Figure 46 is a reproduction of on engraving based upon Cruikshank*s impression of the stage presentation of the second tableau vivant.? The

Bowsprit was apparently a wood cutout projected from the wings. The wrecked ship Windsor Castle is seen in the background. The entire stage, covered with sea cloth, was probably used for this display. One eye­ witness has this to say about these tableaus vivants:

The scene isextremely well managed, and the effect is very good. The sea deserved a better ship. . • •

The complaint about the ship was probably lodged against the flat wood piece representing bowsprit although it could also refer to the ship in the background.

Another interesting tableau vivant is found in Captain Ross:

I, vii— Splendid Tableau, exhibiting the awful situation of the Victory, with loss of foremast, in the midst of immense icebergs. Capt. Ross and his crew on deck, looking out for assistance.

This tableau is preserved in the M. & M. Skelt toy theatre print of the

play (Fig. 47). Again, the entire ship may very well be a two-dimensional

profile affair ,* pushed out from the iceberg wings amidst the iceberg

ground rows. A narrow platform behind the piece was probably provided

for people to stand upon.

7 I have failed to locate these two original pictures by Dawe. These pictures must have been the works of Henry Dawe (1790-1848) instead of those of his better known brother George, the portrait-painter (1781- 1829). The National Dictionary of Biography lists the following paintings on nautical subject matter as his better known exhibited works: "Wreck of the George the Fourth, Convict Ship" (1836) and "Fisher-boys on the Sussex Coast" (1839) end maintains that "some of his works were engraved and became popular." O The Examiner. September 29, 1833, P* 615* 189

Fig. 46.— Frontispiece in Cumberland*s Minor Theatre edition of The Sea, depicting a tableau vivant in Act I, Scene vii, undated. Fig* 4-7*— M. & M, Skelt*s toy theatre print for set pieces in Act I, Scene v, H Captain Ross, undated. The Victoria and Albert Museum. OSUTC Film No. 1715*. 'g n-, \ •

191 The use of The scenic display In these four plays In

the Jerrold tradition Is quite varied, life find two Instances where a

panorama is used for pictorial interest. In I, v, of Captain Ross.

which the scene designation simply describes as "Set Cabin. Couch on

L.H.yN the prompt notes shortly after the opening of the scene read: I Music. The Captain kneels— throws himself on a couch, and sleeps. Scene opens, and exhibits a Panorama. Mrs.

1. Portsmouth ..•••••• The Anchorfs Weieh*d 2. Shetland Isles •••••• The Sea. 3. Faro Island •••••••• Peaceful Slumbering. 4. North-sea & fishing-boats • Lash*d to the Helm. 5. Fleet of Whales •••••• The Hardy Sailor. 6. Storm ••••••••••• Hurry.

A small Ship to stand in the Water while the Panorama is passing.

The M. & M. Skelt’s juvenile drama of Captain Boss must have followed the

original script very closely, for Figure 4? also has a cutout piece for

the sleeping captain on a couch (up left corner) and another for the ship

"to stand while the Panorama is moving in his dream" (lower left corner).

Whereas from a purely technical standpoint, the use of such a dream

sequence seemed to have 'anticipated Expressionism in the twentieth

century, we suspect that the author*s ambition was more likely of a

humbler nature: the dream scene simply provided an excuse for displaying

lengthy panoramas, which the Royal Pavilion Theatre seemed to be so fond

of during this period.9

^Being a lesser minor theatre in the remote eastern outskirts of London, the Pavilion, which started in 1828, usually did not get much attention in the press. For instance within the five-year period 1831-36, fhg T^Mas only reviewed its productions three times (December 27, 1831, 192 The use of a panoramic device in II, iv, of Jacob Faithful, on the other hand, is more closely linked to the dramatic events at hand and serves a legitimate transitional purpose. The scene takes place on

"Deck of the Tender, off the Tower-opposite side of the river, etc.

In this scene, we come across one of the abuses of the impressment system.

Entitled to exemptions as provided by the law, two apprentices to a waterman are nevertheless impressed.

Both. Pressed! Jacob. But we are apprentices. Lieutenant K. Where are your indentures? Tom. We don't carry them in our pockets. Jacob. But can get them, by going for them. Lieutenant K. Haul away, there!— you can write from Spithead; the Navy wants sailors— you must serve the king.11

Very shortly afterwards, "the vessel supposed to move, shows a panorama of

all the views in the river, ending with the sea."

As a "local drama" on the life of the Thames watermen, Jacob

Faithful has one of its attractions in the display of scenery along the

Thames. The type of riverside settings, for which it has quite a few, may

be gathered from Figure 48, a reproduction of M. & M. Skelt's toy print

for III, i, which the original playscript simply describes as "outside

p. 3; April 1, p. 8; and December 27, 1834, p. 2). On the last-mentioned date, Th*f states that in the course of a piece, "a panorama on rather an extensive scale was presented, for it embraced views of all the cities of Europe ..."

^ O n e of the squalid floating dungeons, which Bechervaise and , "Jack Nastyface" have given us such vivid descriptions (see above, pp. 151-152.

^■1The illegal impressment of apprentices, who do not have their protections with them, became a stock incident in the later nautical dramas. For instance, it was also used in I, iv, Bound 'Prentice to a Waterman (1836). >/ / .#<. t«, w . w .v a I > t u <•«. . * «■■■*•_

Fig. 48.— M. & M. Skelt*s toy theatre print for Act III, Scene i, Jacob Faithful. undated. The Victoria and Albert Museum. OSUTC Film No. 1715*• / ( '"'7

of Old Tom*s House#" But the panorama which exhibits nall the views in

the river" must have topped the rest of such views of local color# We

might assume that this panorama was of some considerable length# It is

interesting to note that the M. & M. Skelt toy theatre prints devote no

less than six backpieces to the panorama#

The Bitzball Tradition

Aside from the four plays we have considered to be Jerrold in

spirit# the remaining twelve plays selected for study during this period

may all be assigned to the Fitzball tradition. Six of these plays#

written by five different playwrights, clearly subscribe to the Fitzball

formula of the time-honored Jolly Jack Tar convention and his particular

brand of melodramatic concoction# The other six# of which five are con­

tributed by Haines, show affinity to Fitzball1s type of nautical

spectacle# We shall discuss these two trends under separate headings.

The old Fitzball formula i In the first group of six plays, all the central nautical char­

acters play the roles of good Samaritans who either work for the

restoration of the legitimate or clear the obstacles for the ill-starred

lovers. In them, we find the return of all the cheerfulness and nobility

in Fitzball*s characters# Bill Mainsheet in Tom Bowline sings the title 12 song, dances a "double Hornpipe" with his messmates, and is as helpful

12 A Sadler*s Wells playbill of the opening night (February 1, 1830) has "In Act I a double hornpipe and a glee by Mr# J# F. Williams [Bill Mainsheet]" etc. (OSUTC Film No. 1522B*). 195 and optimistic as any of Fitzball*s sailors. The contentedness of Jack

Spry (Jack*s the Lad) is reflected in the song he sings:

For if ever fellar took delight in Drinking, kissing, smoking, fighting Damn me, 1*11 be bold to say that Jack*s the ladt (I, i)

Ben Bowling (Ben the Boatswain) shields Midshipman Gage from the evil schemes of Trevor and Reddiff and is ever ready to pop up for the crucial rescue (1, i). The suggestion of taking advantage of a girl in love with him elicits the following noble declaration from him:

Wrong her— wrong her, your honor? What, take advantage of her love for me to injure her? I*d sooner go without grog all my life, and be strung up at the yard-arm for mutiny at the end on*t— 1*11 be hanged if I wouldn*tl (with warmth) (II, i)

Ben Binnacle (The Loss of the Royal George) is all for the underdog and would see to it that justice be done to the wronged Spanish lady Inez, whom the caddish Lt. Effinstone has jilted for an admiral*s daughter.

Ben Trenant (The Lost Shin), which T. P. Cooke played in the initial pro­ duction at the Surrey in 1843, is easily forgiving (I, v) but still would I fight the enemy to the bitter end over the hanging d i f f (HI, ii). As a nautical character, Harry Spritsail (The Dream Spectre) has the unusual experience of being mixed up with the smugglers and accused of murder, but all this only demonstrates his fidelity to sworn secrecy.

Structurally speaking, these six plays also follow the Fitzball convention of the melodramatic structure and the nautical situation.

Jack*s the Lsd. Ben the Boatswain, and The Lost Shin have the main plot of the restoration of the displaced heir or nobility; while Tom Bowling.

The Dream Spectre, and The Loss of the Roval George concentrate on the struggle with the jealous-lover-turned villain. The stories and events 1 196 of these plays are as banal and contrived as any of Fitzball* s* Appar­ ently very little effort is made on the part of the authors to involve the audience emotionally in the melodramatic situations* Only in Tom

Bowling is there a feeble attempt at appealing to pity and pathos in Old

Tom Bowling*s abject poverty and the heroine*s menial toils* But it is doubtful whether the audience could feel at home with a waterman* s daughter who talks in the following fashion:

▲last My father* would that any sacrifice thy child could make were accepted as the purchase of thy liberty: but I will not lose you thus: 1 will away* too* and* if the master of your prison should refuse me the sweet consolation of sharing your incarceration* he cannot deny me the privilege of attending you* of ministering to your comforts* of soothing your afflic­ tion . . . (I, vi)l3

In general* the nautical scenes in these plays are watered-down versions of Fitzball*s nautical spectacles* Except for The Loss of the

Royal George, none has a nautical finale. In Tom Bowline, the most

complicated nautical rigging only amounts to the following mounting:

I* v— The sea at Southsea Point* Moonlight* Music* The sea is calm* but the wind rising* it gradually augments its billows. Thunder is heard— the moon is eclipsed b yon opaque cloud— wind* lightning* and rain* &c* By the lightning*s flashes is seen the Prospero tossing in the ocean— she plunges violently— a shrill whistle is heard* which is answered by a gun from the ship*

13 D-G*s preface to Bound *Prentice to a Waterman (the British Drama edition) informs us that Campbell served three apprenticeships totaling twenty-two years* laborious service at Sadler*s Wells* and that his "advance in his profession has not been commensurate with his abili­ ties* literary and histrionic*" Judging from the kind of bogus literary style he wrote* one can easily see why he did not win the minor theatre audiences* The dialogue in this play* however, may havq been taken verbatim from Frederick Chamier*s novel of that title* (See Michael Sadleir, X U Century Fiction: ▲ Bibliographical Record Based on His Own Collection [Cambridge: University Press]* II, 257) 197

Later, "Bill and the men get on board the cutter [via a boat]" and the ship "tacks, and put out to sea," which in practical staging terms sisply means that the ship is pulled off into the wings.

Ran tha Boatswain has only one modest explosion in the "hold of the * Snake*" (II, iv). The nautical attraction in The Lost Ship consists of the working of a trap:

II, v.— The Privateer Foundering.— In the centre, the stump of a Mast, Men cutting at some rigging hanging over the side.

At the end of the scene, the "Vessel gradually sinks as the drop falls."

Only when we come to the finale in The Loss of the Royal George is there an inkling of nautical spectacle that could match Fitzball*s

specialty:

II, vi.— -The open Sea. Spithead in the distance. The scene is peculiarly constructed. The waters are seen violently agitated; and are raised about one-third above the level of the stage; they are transparent. The "Royal George" discovered lying on her side; ships of the fleet seen at short distances from her; loud cries and screams heard from her; gun heard twice from the shore; at the second report she sinks; the swell of the waves, &c., becomes terrific; when it begins to subside, the Sailors, &c. are seen swimming about in all directions; the masts of the vessel are seen considerably above the surface of the water, to which many of the Sailors (ding. From the transparency of the waters, the sunken vessel is distinctly visible. Inez has obtained a place of security on the main topsail halyard blockv and is seen dragging Helen from the depths of the waters towards her; Effingstone, Ben, Gaston, all d i n g to the masts, &c.; Ben, waving his neckerchief as a signal to the boats, &c. Two boats put off from the shore, in one of which is Roger and Becky; they near the sunken ship, Inez, Gaston, Effingstone, and Ben get into one boat, Ben assisting each in turn. Several Sailors, amongst whom is Trevor, are picked up by the other; they kneel and return thanks to Provi­ dence for their miraculous preservation.— Tableau. (II, vi)

The transparency of the waters was effected by spreading a layer of gauze above the regular sea d o t h and the agitation of the waves by the whale­ bones of the urchins underneath the sea-doth as we have already noted in

Chapter Four. In reading over the description, it is difficult not to v{\

198 notice the incongruity the entire picture must have presented to the

audience* The first night playbill quotes an account of the size of the

ship from Marryat1s novel Poor Jack:

We were a Flag-ship you know and Kempenfeit carrying his blue at the mizzen and our poop lanterns were so large that the men used to get inside of them to clean them* She was rather a top- heavy sort of ship in my opinion* her upper works were so high— why we measured sixty-six feet from the keelson up to the taffrail* * • *14

Following the same authority* we find the narrator* supposedly a survivor

of the accident* continues to give us an estimate of the number of people

aboard when the accident occurred:

We had our whole complement on board, eight hundred and sixty- five men; and there were more than three hundred women on board* besides a great many Jews with slops and watches, as there always are, you know* when a ship is paid* * * ,15

We have no record as to how large the ship presented on the Sadler*s

Wells stage was* but we do know that the proscenium arch, opening of the

stage during that period was about thirty-three feet.^ When real actors

were incorporated into the picture which featured a first-prate stage

man-of-war, the lack of proportion must have been glaring*

To conclude, even if we do not have evidence that the other five

nautical plays were very successful, there is no room for doubt that The

Loss of the Royal George was extremely popular. The Sadler*s Wells

14 Quoted by a Sadler*s Wells playbill dated September 21, 1840 (OSUTC Film No* 1522B*).

^Capt, Frederick Marryat, Poor Jack (Boston: Dana Estes & Co., I896)* chap. xiii* 89-90*

^Robert Wilkinson, London Tllustrata (London: Published by Robert Wilkinson, 1819), III» 95• Also, cf. John C* Morrow*s statement: "the width of the stage at the proscenium arch was approximately the same in 1819 and 1854." ("The Staging of Pantomime at Sadler*s Wells Theatre, 1828-1860" [unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, The Ohio State University, 1963], P. 47.) /> , p

199 17 Theatre during this period apparently took a lead in nautical staging*

The playbill of the first night maintains that "the astounding and elec­

trifying representation of the last scene far outstrips all attempts made

at any theatre."^® The Theatrical Journal terming the production "a most

splendid nautical piece" seems to bear out the claims made by the

management: i Mr* Honner, the proprietor here* seems to be the only person nowadays who pays that strict attention to the getting up of this kind of pieces to make them tell* and bring money to the Treasure.19

A month after the opening* one playbill states: "Triumph! • • • no less

than three other theatres in the Metropolis have adopted the same

subject."^® It is reasonable to conjecture that even as late as, 1840 the

rage for nautical spectacle was still at its peak*

^One Sadler1s Wells playbill dated October 21, 1839» advertises a scene in Paul the Pirate as "The Raven Outward Bound* i DIORAMA! of her departure from Portsmouth Harbour; in this scene will be introduced a beautiful MECHANICAL VESSEL! designed by Mr. Fenton and executed by Mr. B. Sloman— representing A FIRST-RATE FRIGATE fully built and rigged." Another playfill of Mariner*s Dream dated August 10, 1840, has "Main Deck of H*M*S* ‘Enterprise* during a tremendous storm" (OSUTC Film No* 1522B*)* The Theatrical Journal has this to comment on the production aspects of a play entitled The Black Rover, which involves elaborate sea-rigging: "The scenic department is really excellent and not to be surpassed: neither labour nor expense seem to have been spared to attract and gratify, ..." (November 27, 1840, p. 378)*

September 21, 1840 (OSUTC Film No. 1522B*). 19 The Theatrical Journal. October 17, 1840, p. 361.

200ctober 19, 1840 (OSUTC Film No. 1522B*). I only find records at the Surrey: a "new nautical drama entitled Wir-eck of the Royal George: or the CHnst preceded by a grand pictorial and scenic introduc­ tion, representing a cruise round the coast, and depicting the awful calumnity, with the sinking of the vessel, etc." ("Under the Clock,” The Times. October 12, 1840, p. 4). Some five weeks later, The Theatrical Journal reported: "The Wreck of the Royal George, which is now f&ayed as the second piece, continues to draw forth general applause." (November 28, 1840, p. 408) 200

The nAutical adventure series

Excepting Bound 1 Prentice to a Waterman, the rest of the plays under the present heading were all the work of Haines, produced between

1836 and 18^3, We will discuss these plays under the following divisions:

(1) Romance and adventure, (2) Return to spectacle and gun powder, and

(3) Exotic scenery and pageantry.

Romance and adventure. Categorically, we might say that all

these plays are romance-adventure oriented. The only significant

structural difference between the plays we have just discussed (see

above, pp. 19*HL99) and these six plays is that instead of being a good

Samaritan, the nautical character in each play usually has some part in

the typical nautical situation of love rivalry. The story usually is an

interminable and unnecessarily complicated contest between the nautical

hero and his rival. The villain usually has an edge on the hero at first:

he carries the heroine away to a foreign land either by force or by her

own consent. This gives our hero an excuse to join the navy (if he is

not already in it) and conduct a wide chase around the world to track down

his sweetheart— at the expense of the government. Naturally, the villain

is destroyed at the end of an exhaustive trip.

Susan Croft in Bound lPrentlce to a Waterman is abducted by

Artois Latour and transported to Batavia. This makes her lover Dick Dark,

an apprentice to a Woolwich waterman, suddenly awake: "On board of a

man-of-war 1*11 serve my country, and endeavour, by good conduct and

unflinching bravery, to wipe out the stigma that hangs upon my name" (I, i).

And wipe out the stigma he does— after travelling through a good portion

of Europe and three interminably long acts. 201

The play is full of melodramatic gimmicks. For instance, after

Artois is shot by Susan for trying to violate her:

He rises with difficulty, totters forward, c., grasps her throat, and at that moment a ribband gets loose from her bosom, and hanging down, discovers the half of a coin attached to it— he gases on her with difficulty and horror, produces his half of the coin, which he joins to hers, and exclaiming, "My childI my childl" falls on her neck, and dies* Susan hangs over him in speechless agony * * * (II, vii)

Haines*s stories are not much better. In Breakers Ahead. Allan joins the navy after a disagreement with his girl, Amy. Not inattentive to Sir Malcolm*s attentions, Amy eventually marries him. But, Sir

Malcolm turns out to be a hypocrite and only goes through a sham wedding ceremony with her. However, when he is appointed the first secretary to the Ambassador to China, he nevertheless takes her with him. The world of melodrama being rather small, our nautical hero Allan and Amy naturally have plenty of opportunities to meet each other and to be reconciled against some exotic settings— but not until she produces a piece of paper in Malcolm*s handwriting: "Your brother*s proffered false priest- deceptive marriage— tale of Allan*s falsehood forgeryl" Virtue must be whitewashed at all costs.

In Ruth; or. the Lass that Loves a Sailor. Lucifer could not have a better disciple than 'Lord Glenmuir, who, having usurped the estate of his nephew Bernard, further intends to possess the latter*s sweet­ heart, Ruth. Suspense is increased when COLaude Amboise, an agent of Lord

Glenmuir, poses as Ruth*s long lost father and persuades her to marry

Glenmuir. Ruth, after some wailing and conflicting moments, lets filial piety get the upper hand and surrenders to her supposed father*s will.

By the beginning of III, iv, things look desperate. As if to appease 202 the restless audiencef our nautical hero, Bernard, hints broadly at the

eventual outcome:

My own sweet Ruth! Be assured, heaven never deserts the virtuous— mark my. words and let them be your comfort— even at the eleventh hour guilt will not prevail. (Ill, iv)

The story of The Wizard of the Wave uses the device of mistaken

identity in a pair of twins. The incidents are most confusing though the

plot still evolves around the old melodramatic pattern of the abduction

and restoration of the legitimate. i Occasionally, a melodrama in this group contains some incidental i message that goes beyond the theme of reassurance of the destruction of

black villainy. For instance, the story in Rattlin the Reefer, though

still romance-adventure oriented, has a heroine who is a negress. The

nautical hero, who follows her all over the Mediterranean in order to '

rescue her from the clutches of the piratical villain Oliver Oakhead,

professes feelings of brotherhood in the following speech:

Though the negro fisher who fished me up when I leap*d from Oakhead*s vessel, sold me to slavery, I will not forget that as good hearts may beat beneath a black skin, as a white one, and that in the eye of the Supreme he is a brother and a man. (Ill, ii)

In The Ocean of Life, the scenery changes from South America to

London as our nautical hero follows the aristocratic heroine he has

married unwittingly, but the play also touches the problem of the insur­

mountable barriers between social classes. What would happen when a

common sailor marries a woman above his social class under unusual

circumstances? Would she stay with him when the conditions become normal

again? The story apparently has an interesting premise, but like all

the melodramas, the ending of this one has to be happy and, hence. 203 dishonestly contrived. By promoting the sailor to the rank of a lieutenant, he automatically becomes a gentleman; therefore, socially, he

Is no disgrace to her familyIM

Return to spectacle and gunpowder. From the above summary dis­ cussion, It is obvious that the ready-made conflict in the nautical situation in these plays only serves as a spring board for the nautical character to plunge into an adventurous chase. Since little attention is paid to the Jerrold type of character delineation or treatment of sodial problems, the attractions of these adventure plays apparently lie somewhere else. One attraction is undoubtedly the Fitzball action- packed spectacle. Since the repertory of the nautical staging is rather limited and there is very little we have not already seen in Fitzball, we will only cite a few more elaborate examples under the following categories: ship-maneuvering, panoramas for transitional purposes, and sea-chase.

21 There was another version of the same story by Buckstone at the Adelphi on February 3» 1840. The title was changed to Poor Jack: or. the Wife of a Sailor. Buckstone claimed that the "nautical incidents of the drama are taken from a short narrative founded on a fact that occurred in 1810, and published in 1827• under the title of *The Bride of Obeydah*" (note on the title page of the Dicks* edition). But the Buckstone version is very much inferior to Haines*s: the nautical character renamed Jack Somerton becomes a bragging idiot without the breezy charm and the intelligence of Mat Merriton. Both parts were played by T. P. Cooke. On his second impersonation, one reviewer says "T. P. Cooke*s part is one of the worst we ever saw that gentleman act.H (The Theatrical Journal. February 29, 1840, p. 94) Another reviewer states that his part is Hto our minds, rather too much laboured in writing." (The London Literary Gazette. February 8, 1840, p. 93) Regarding the Buckstone version as a whole, The Theatrical Journal judiciously comments in an earlier review that "the piece is far from being well constructed, and in many respects is inferior to its forerunner ..." (February 15, 1840, p. l) 20k

(a) ftMp-maneuvering. Ill, H i , of Breakers Ahead takes place on "the Deck of the Spanker— the Shrouds, etc. illuminated for a festival." A few minutes later* "a smoke rises.n We will let the prompt notes tell us the rest of the story:

Shrieks— a cloud of smoke rises up in front~as it disperses* the masts have disappeared— the ship is everywhere on fire . . . Tremendous explosion— as the smoke clears nothing is seen but the agitated waves and human forms floating— a Vessel bears down from the extreme distance of the Stage— Allen is on its deck— he is seen to nlunge into the waters— ropes are thrown out— the vessel wears— her broadside is brought to the audi­ ence— Allan, with Amy in arms, is seen on the deck— Luke climbs the side with Joan— Oakum has hold of a rope* and the Sailors are busied hauling Barnaby aboard. Grand Tableau.

In technical terms, this scene involves (l) the simulation of sinking the entire stage as the deck of the Spanker (as in II* i, of The Red

Rover), which involves the taking down of masts and other practical pieces, and the rising of the water rows from underneath the stage, and I (2) the travelling of a ship from upstage to downstage and its turning

around. Of course* we have encountered all these tricks before. The prompt notes* however* suggest the clever masking of the first part of

the operation with a cloud of smoke, which would naturally enhance

audience admiration at the effect of the chaneement a vue when the next

thing the audience noticed was an entire stage covered with canvas water.

(b) Pffor transitional purposes. In II, i, of Breakers

the scene takes place on the "Quarter deck of H. M. Ship Porpoise.

Distant view of the Coast of Quangtang, Chinese Junks with oars, and

Latten sailed craft passing at a distance." Shortly afterwards, the 205 prompt notes read "a panorama proceeds.In I. ill* of Battlin the

Reefer, which the scene designation describes as "Deck of His Majesty*s

Frigate Eos. Ocean and distant view of the shore." A few minutes later, the prompt notes specify: "The Panorama now begins to move . . . In the Panorama the Isle of Might is passed, till fairly out at sea." In these two cases, the panorama was an integral part of the dramatic action.

(c) Sea-chase. The finale in The Wizard of the Wave excels all the nautical mounting in this group. The scene designation reads:

III. iv.— The Open Sea— shaking waters cover the whole extent of the stage— in the extreme distance in chase, guns seem to fire from her occasionally R.— near the front, the stern and after deck of the Unknown Schooner, the stern and forward part being off the stage, the only mast visible being fully rigged.

Minutes later, "sails of the distant vessel are let fall," and "a boat is seen to leave the distant vessel and pull off." The prompt notes continue: ,

Music.— The distant Wizard is seen to stand in for the shore— a mist gradually rises from the waters during the following, completely obscuring the horizon, Ac.

When the mist clears away, the Wizard has already disappeared in the background. The boat rowed by Belford finally reaches the Unknown

Schooner and the heroine is rescued. Then, we come to the final moments: Music . . . a terrific explosion takes place, the Unknown Schooner becomes a blazing wreck— the blackened corpse of the Unknown is seen amidst its burning timbers— in the meantime, the mist has

22 On the opening night the working of the panorama was not very smooth, which was duly reported by The Times: "In log second we were transported on board His Majesty*s Ship Portoise, to China, and were treated en passant, with a splendid panoramic view of the coast of Quang-tong. The scenic illusion would have been perfect, as it is phrased, but that unfortunately, between each successive stratum of can­ vas, the carpenters managed to leave a hiatus valde la chrumabilis. aver­ aging in width from 8 to 10 inches. • • •" (March 28, 1837, p* 5)* 206

entirely disappeared, and the Wizard, an intense fully rigged schooner, floats forward, her decks filled by the characters— Captain Falknew conspicuous on her bows, he expresses great agony— meantime, the Wizard wears, the boats get alongside, ropes are thrown to Truck, and while all are busied getting Belford, Isabina, &c., on board, amidst the shouts of the Seamen,

The notes on scenery at the beginning of the Lacy edition have the following additional information on the staging of the scene:

Shaking waters to cover the whole stage--mist to work horizon- the stern of the Unknown Schooner R,l,£,— to be blown up— the Wizard— (very small)— set on L.U.E.— the Wizard— (very large to work from top) L.2.E.— boat to work from.

Again, we should notice the refinement in using mist to mask the dis­ appearance of the "very small11 Wizard so that when it reappears ("very large to work from top") the audience will be delightfully surprised.

The effectiveness of the staging may be gathered from the following

Theatrical Journal review:

The Wizard of the Wave is a drama of which we cannot speak in the highest terms, it being by no means of equal merit to most of the author*s productions, nevertheless it went off very well and the scenic effects are decidedly worth seeing.^3

Again, weeks later:

The Wizard of the Wave continued to draw good houses: the machinery used in this piece, as we before observed, is exceed­ ingly well managed • • .24 I It is amazing how strikingly similar in tone these reviews read compared to those on Fitzball*s nautical plays a decade before. Thus, from Fitz­ ball to Haines, the nautical spectacle seemed to have run a full circle.

23The Theatrical Journal. September 12, 18*40, p. 319. 9k Ibg.Ih8atcl.ffal JffMTaal* October 3* 1840, p. 345. Exotic scenery and pageantry. The other notable attraction is the display of exotic scenery and pageantry* Geographicallyt the locale i of these plays embraces territories unused in earlier plays* The settings range from an apartment at Buenos Aires (I, i, The Ocean of Life) to a seaport in China (II, i, Breakers Ahead). With the advance of exhibit­ ing exotic scenery, it seems only logical that the next step would be the presentation of foreign customs and pageantry* We will conclude our survey on the adventure series with oriental pageantry from II, iv, of

Breakers Ahead. The locale is described as

Portal of the Bridges* Descent from the Hanging Gardens, and Landing Place of the Imperial Palace* Through an arch in the centre is seen the Harbour* British Fleet in the distance— boats passing from the ships— gun fired from the ships* Throne R.H.

As the scene opens, one of the officials announces: "The emperor and

Imperial troops, with all the mandarins, approach * * *M

Grand march* The Imperial Archers descend the bridges— Banners— Dancing Children, tkbrella Bearers— Palanquin with Koe Chiko, and Female Heralds, and Guards of Etiquette— Officer and Banners— Two Lantern Bearers— Two Mandarins, attended as before— Fongi and Slaves— Three Dancing Grotesques— The Body Guard— Imperial Banners— Dancing Children— Splendid Palanquin of the Emperor— Banners, etc* During the above boats are seen to work below— at last some come to the landing place— Lord Macartney, Officers, Sir Malcolm, Sailors bearing the Union Jack, Marines, Ladies, etc* disembark. Tableau*

Conclusions

To conclude, in this chapter the practice of following the two traditions of the nautical drama laid down by Fitzball and Jerrold has been traced* The Jerrold tradition was short-lived. Few playwrights had his passion for advocating the cause for redressing social injustice in the contemporary navy and few nautical plays advanced his concept of 208 sentimental realism. As the period progressed, the Influence of Jerrold seemed to wane and then disappeared altogether. The development of

Haines's career as a nautical playwright seems to Illustrate this point most clearly: of his seven nautical plays only two (Jacob Faithful and

Mv Poll and My Partner Joe) belong to the Jerrold tradition. After 1835» his. plays largely subscribe to the Fitzball tradition.

Except for the four plays classified as following the Jerrold

tradition, the remaining twelve plays under survey during the period

1830-1843 all belong to the Fitzball tradition. In the first group

(under "The Old Fitzball Formula"), the playwrights seem to have followed

the Fitzball formula without any alteration. In the second group (under

"The Nautical'Adventure Series"), our summary analysis has shown that

the six plays were all romance-adventure oriented and were both tech­

nically and spiritually true descendants of Fitzball’s nautical spectacle.

Since the nautical drama was exclusively the product of the

minor theatres and the playwrights of these theatres were no more than

handy-men to provide entertainment, it would seem that the minor theatre

audiences, as the period progressed, felt more comfortable with the

Fitzball type of intellectually and emotionally non-exacting romance and

adventure than with Jerrold*s social protest and pathos. In the next

chapter we shall look into some of the characteristics of the minor

theatre audiences. CHAPTER VII

SOME CHARACTERISTICS OF MINOR THEATRE AUDIENCES

Introduction

The nautical plays under survey during the period 1824-43 were largely associated with four of the oldest and most important minor

theatres, viz*, the Surrey, the Coburg (later Victoria), Sadler*s Wells, and the Adelphi*^ The first two theatres were located on the Surrey

side of the Thames and best known during this period for their produc­

tions of the nautical drama* Sadler’s Wells, as has been noted before, was the home of aqua spectacles under the Charles Dibdin management in

the first two decades of the century and was also a leader in staging

the nautical drama during the late part of the period under survey* The

Adelphi’s connection with the nautical drama was largely made through

Fitzball’s plays and the theatre ceased to be an active producer of this

particular genre of drama after 1830* It has been noted in the previous

Charles Dibdin in 1826 maintained that only eight public places of amusement were called minor theatres* The others were the East London (or Royalty), the West London, the Royal Amphitheatre, and the Olympic. Excepting the Adelphi and the Olympic which were licensed by the Lord Chamberlain, the other six minor theatres were opened under licenses granted by the magistrates of their respective counties and operated more or less on a year round basis* They all commenced the entertainments at half-past six or seven o’clock and concluded about eleven* The prices of admission were the same in all: boxes 4s*, pit 2s*, gallery Is*, and most of them took half-price (See History and Illustrations of the London Theatres [London: Printed for the Proprietors of the "Illustra­ tions of London Buildings," 1826], p* 88).

209 210 chapter that occasionally a nautical play originated from a lesser minor theatre such as the Queen's or the Royal Pavilion, and it may also be assumed that other minor theatres were also frequently staging nautical plays of one type or another during this period. However, the four above-mentioned minor theatres were unquestionably the leaders in this field and their productions usually received more complete treatment by the contemporary pressi than those of other minor theatres. In this chapter the discussion of the audience will be largely confined to these four minor theatres.

Previous studies on the subject mostly cover a longer period and are usually of a rather general natureFor instance, no distinction has been made between the audiences in the major theatres and those in the minor.^ The following survey intends to concentrate on a few characteristics of the minor theatre audiences between 1824 and 1843.

^Nicoll covers the entire 1800-1850 period and does not dis­ tinguish the minor theatre audiences from those of the major in A History Of English » 1660-1900 (Cambridge: at the University Press, 1955)t IV, 7-22. Reynolds' description is short and of a rather general nature; his examples of avdience behavior are not necessarily representative of the period (Early Victorian Drama. 1830-1870 [Cambridge: W. Heffer & Sons Ltd., 1936], pp. 52-54). CLinton-Baddeley's All Right on the Night (Putnam: Great Russell, 1954), probably the best general source on the custom and habit in the Georgian Theatre (1737-1843), is deficient in the coverage of the period of this study. Hamilton's and Baylis' The Old. Vic (New Tork: George H. Doran Co., n.d.) is only valuable concerning that particular theatre. 3 In spite of occasional similarity in the type of plays they produced and the interchangeability of actors and managers in some cases, the line between the major and the minor theatres was distinct. The following are three major differences: (l) Prices. The difference in prices of admission can be gathered from The Athenaeum's complaint that though Osbaldiston lowered the prices at Covent Garden by half, the plays he produced were "Surrey pieces": "if, for such exhibitions, we are to pay double the prices at which they charged over the water, then we say, 211 Theatre historians dealing with this period tend to be content with a few well-known isolated examples of the nineteenth century audience conduct* The discussion in this chapter intends to correct

this deficiency by drawing a larger sampling of contemporary opinions regarding the minor audience. It is hoped that a more accurate picture

of the subject than that which is available at the present time may

emerge, if accuracy is at all possible in a description of such an

evasive and dynamic entity as an audience.

The general tendency of the previous studies seems to take for

granted the impartiality of their informants. The following discussion

that, by the new arrangement . . . the prices of admission are coming up instead of going down" (November 7, 1835* P* 835)* In other words, before the reduction took place, the audience had to pay four times as much to get into Covent Garden as the Surrey. Also compare Drury Lane prices in 18*0 (boxes 7s.» pit 3s. 6d., upper boxes 2s., gallery Is.; see R. H. Mottramj "Town Life," Early Victorian England. 1830-1865 [London: Oxford University Press, 193^-]» I, 189) with those at the Victoria in 18^5 (boxes 2s., pit Is., gallery 4d.; see Reynolds, p. 53)* (2) Dress. Another notable difference was in dress. Th«» Tgrai^war» in 1831 maintained that "the great charm of the minor theatres used to be that people could drop into them without the fuss of dress. It did not approve the tendency to be dressy at the Queen* s (June 19, 1831, p. 390). The Theatrical Observer gives the following insight into the minor theatre habit in clothes: "In order to ensure, as far as the weather will permit, a cool judgment on the part of the'pit and gallery, it is general among the former, and universal with the latter to strip off the coat and waistcoat, and sit so far en chemise during the performance" (July 8, 1826). (3) Acting. The acting at the minors tended to be more melodramatic, or "to tear passions into tatters." "The art of acting," reports the same critic from The Theatrical Observer, "differs in some material points from that usually adopted on this side of the Thames, agreeing, however, in one singular particular— that noise on the stage is generally answered by noisy applause, a fashion we are afraid that has been borrowed from these our worthy neighbours; one excellence in their dramatic code is, that it utterly abominates hypocrisy— a villain is a villain— no disguise— he looks just as he is. Virtue, on the contrary, is in handsome blue coats, and white trousers, by the gentlemen, and in nice white gowns by the ladies. ..." (July 8, 1826). attempts to taka into consideration the biases of the gentleman drama critics. Coning from a different social class with cultivated taste, most of the critics, when they condescended to write about the minor theatre audiences, were most critical and oftentimes full of preoccupied prejudices. It is not infrequent that a minor theatre audience was criticised or dismissed not for what they did, but for what they were.

However, it must be emphasized that occasionally a few more enlightened and good-natured gentlemen of the press were willing to keep an open wrind and give a fairly objective account of what they saw. It is a pity that previous studies on nineteenth century audiences tend to base their observations upon the most damaging remarks by contemptuous critics without the necessary qualifications. This study attempts to give a more critic and objective evaluation of all the available testimonies.

In general, it may be said that the early nineteenth century

minor theatre audiences were more lively and less refined in their

conduct than our modern theatre audiences, Apparently, they subscribed

to a more liberal code of etiquette than the latter. In the following,

first, we shall attempt to note a few most important peculiarities in

custom and habit of the minor audiences during the general period. Then,

we shall try to correct a few misconceptions about the early nineteenth

century minor theatre audiences; and finally, conclude with a general

description of their taste. 213 Verbal Responses and Causes of Noises

The early nineteenth century minor audiences were allowed much more latitude In their reactions to the performance than the theatre audiences in our times. Unquestionably masters of the situation, they were expected to give approval and, to the annoyance of the manager and the actor* disapproval of what they saw on the stage. Hissing an actor or a play was considered no departure from normal good audience behavior and was generously practiced.**

A new play on the opening night had to have the sanction of the majority of the audience for subsequent repetition. For instance* at

the Surrey* Napoleon: or. the Victim of Ambition "was given out for repetition with a few dissentient voices* but the majority in favor of it was powerful and decisive.And at a Christmas pantomime at the Coburg*

one critic reports: The curtain fell amidst applause and disapprobation* of which the former* however* greatly predominated* and the pantomime was announced for repetition. We think it however right to mention*

hissing was tolerated even at the patent theatres. For instance, at one performance of Alchvmist at Drury Lane, "Harley* as a hypochon­ driac, fancied himself so many absurd things, that the audience at last also fancied him an absurd thing, and hissed him accordingly" (The London Gazette. March 24, 1832, p. 188). Covent Garden*s ill- advised attempt at the nautical drama (The HLue Anchor: or a Tar for A31 Weathers) after T. P. Cooke's successful appearances as William in Black-Eyed Susan went in the following way on the opening night: "The audience endured three long acts with only occasional hissing, but.the disapprobation kept increasing, and the exhibition of a very effective scene or two had no power to put the house in good humour ..." (The Theatrical Observer. October 19. 1830). According to Tfr? Journal, "the practice of hissing non-favorite actors is confined almost exclusively to the metropolis. In the provinces, even at Manchester, Birmingham* Liverpool, and York, where the performances and performers rank secondary to the London theatres, an actor or actress, rarely meets with the rude repulse which is so often experiencedin London. ..." (June 26, 1841, p. 206).

^Tha Times. May 23, 1831, p. 3. 21k

that this disapprobation was the consequence of the Clown's declining to sing some song which was loudly called for during the representation of the entertainment.^

Since disapprobation from some part of the audience would occur at any conceivable provocation* it was customary for the author or the manager to take the matter into his own hands by employing a sufficient number of clacauaurs to drown out the dissentient voices. Negligence of taking such a precaution could lead both the manager and the author to grief. Such an example is found at the Adelphi during the performance of a second piece entitled My Absent Son; or. Brown Studies: ,

A vulgar and brutal part of the audience, who came in from the gin-shops at half price, determined to exercise their lungs; and as the author, rationally confiding in the merits of his piece, had enlisted no party in his support, their voices suc­ ceeded in preventing the quiet part of the audience from hear­ ing the performers. Mr. Mathews came forward and made a spirited remonstrance (which was loudly applauded by the better part of the house,) and intimated at the conclusion that the piece would again be submitted to the judgement of the public. . • 7 i In this case, the verbal disapprobation, which was apparently based upon reasons irrelevant to the performance, went a little further than normal;

but this type of interruption and wrangling with the audience (or, "the brutal part" of it) was regarded by the management as routine operation.

The management as well as the polite section of the audience was expected

to tolerate minor disturbances during the performance. When Osbaldiston

at the Surrey expelled a dissenting and hissing patron in 1830, The Times

^The Times. December 28, 1830, p. 2. 7 The Athenaeum. November 1, 1828, p. 781. 2 1 5 regarded this action on the part of the management as a breach of a sacred code of theatre etiquette and poured out the following Indignation:

We have yet to learn that In England police-officers may be employed to expel from a theatre, persons who express their disapprobation of stage performances in a temperate manner • • • are men to be turned out for hissing, or committed to the watch-house for a longitudinal extension of the jaws?8

This type of official sanction of verbal audience responses

(ever so temperate) from the press explains the abounding contemporary records on difficulty of hearing because of noises at the minors.9 it

also explains one important fundamental difference in behavior between a minor audience and that of a modern theatre.

Interruption from the management was apparently rather rare in

the 1830*s. Not until Samuel Phelps took over Sadler*s Wells after 1844

was something done about the indecorous reaction from the audience,

especially the gallery. It is said that upon a slight disturbance, the

offender was instantly turned out of the theatre. Sometimes, Phelps

8The Times. March 8, 1830, p, 4. 9 One critic reviewing the nautical drama Ocean of Life at the Surrey reports that he "can speak only from the 1 action* for hearing was last night wholly out of the question, , • ,n (The Times. April 5» 1836, p, 3). Another at the Coburg laments that "of the plot and dialogue • • • we can give no account whatever, for though the persons on the stage did everything to make themselves heard, the inpatience of-the gallery to see the pantomime was opposed to their efforts" (The Times. December 29, 1832, p. 3)« At the close of our period, the poor actors at the same theatre (renamed the Victoria after 1833) has to manifest "an exemplary disregard of their own lungs, and succeeded, in spite of some rather violent storms among the audience, in rendering themselves distinctly audible through all the noise , • •" (The Times. March 29, 1842), p. 3* 2 1 6 would even put ft clo&k over his stage costume and go up into the gallery to secure order

Before passing judgment on the manners of the unruly minor audiences, we must remember that the theatres in London during this period did not have the facilities which are taken for granted today by the modern audience. For instance* the benches in the pit and the gallery in some minor theatres were still not backed.^ Because of the cut-throat business competition among the minor theatres* it was not unusual for the more unscrupulous managers to issue free ttordersM or | 1£ charge a nominal price for admission* The houses at such times were

10Barton Baker, The History of the LondonStage and Its Famous Plavers (1576-1903) (London: George Routledge and Sons, Ltd.* 190*0» P. 370. 11 The Surrey seemed to have been the leader in the matter of improving audience comfort. t Ha T&rawtwAr. August 17, 1823, p. 538, reported that "the pit is also much improved, and the seats are covered and backed, after the manner of the Opera-House•" CLinton-Baddeley maintains that "the Haymarket did not get them [backed seats] till 1843, the Lyceum not till 1878" (p. 15). 12 Issuing low price "orders" was the most common method of attracting audiences used by the minor theatre during this period. The London Literary Gazette gives the following account of the abuse: "A strange and shameful practice has, we hear, been adopted by some of the minor theatres; an expedient, resembling the Vauxhall lotteries, to attract crowds of the worst description to their blackguard precincts, and of course, exclude every well-regulated branch of the community from such amusements. The fashion, it seems, is to innundate the town with orders, at the price of one shilling each, which admit to boxes, pit, or gallery, of (as we are told) the Coburg and also Sadlerrs Wells. Two or three thousand persons are thus nightly admitted, and the dis-order which prevails can hardly be imagined by any one who has not witnessed the behaviour of so promiscuous an assemblage ..." (August 23, 1828, p. 541). In an earlier period, Tom DLbdin, during , his management of the Surrey between 1816 and 1823, was compelled out of business because of the lavish suicidal manner with which the manager at his rival theatre, the Coburg, distributed these "orders": "it is certain that one period, when not in possession of its present managers, the Coburg Theatre sent out six hundred large bills weekly to shops, &c. for which each shop 217 usually crowded to suffocation* The discomfort, especially in the summer 13 season, can well be imagined.

Furthermore, as the century progressed, the hours of the pre­ sentation were prolonged. At the beginning of our period, the per­ formances at the minors usually started at half past six or at seven o'clock and terminated around eleven. E|y the end of the period, the i li performances at the minors seldom terminated before half past one. In one extreme case (in connection with the nautical play Breakers ^ - the reviewer found that by the time half of the night's fare was over it was already past midnight; as for the second piece, he was "unable to

'sit it out* to its termination, which probably took place three o'clock

this morning* Long hours and discomfort understandably led to less

than ideal behavior in the theatre.

received three double orders, i.e. admitting two persons each per week; making in the total thirty-six hundred people admitted gratis weekly, in addition to proprietors' personal friends, performers* orders, indi­ viduals* freedoms, &c» &c* I knew not what cards I was playing my game with, nor did I follow this example; therefore it was not to be wondered at that few would pay at my house, when so many could repeatedly amuse themselves, without a shilling's expense, at another" (The Reminiscences of Thomas Dibdin [London: Henry Colburn, 1837J, II, 111-12).

^ N e a r the d o s e of this period, The Times praised the good ventilation at Sadler's Wells, which at the same time revealed the condi­ tions at other houses: "The theatre though completely crammed, was owing to good ventilation, not.so oppressively hot as some of its rivals; and the state of comparative coolness is an attraction of no small force* In a theatre so crowded as this is, if it were not for good ventilation, half those present would be suffocated" (August 23, 1842, p* 3)* 14 The critic from The Theatrical Journal after seeing Wizard of the Wave at the Victoria commented: "Half-past eleven is late enough, half-past one preposterous" (September 12, 1840, p. 319)* 15Xhe Tines. March 28, 1837. p. 5. 218

Eating and Drinking during a Performance

Another peculiar custom of the minor theatres in the early nineteenth century also contributed to the disorder which was sometimes exhibited during a performance* namely, permitting eating and drinking.

Our better behaved modern audiences would seldom indulge themselves in food and wine during a play; but then, our audiences have already been conditioned to a decorum that was unknown to the minor theatrs rustics.

Owing to the high costs of operation, the profits gained from selling liquors to the spectators became indispensable to the minor theatre managers; and some of the theatres were officially licensed by the local authorities to engage in this lucrative activity. Charles

Dibdin tells us that Sadler*s Wells was a “wine company* as well as a

"water company" in the early years of his management. It was not until the terrible accident in 180? (with a death toll of nineteen people) as a result of a false cry of fire from the audience that the local magistrates

"strongly recommended" him to abolish the practice of selling liquors in the theatre.^ By the 1840*s bootlegging had become such a general practice among the minor theatres that Osbaldiston, the manager at the

Victoria, was only fined twenty shillings and costs upon conviction. The

16 Dibdin maintained that he did well financially even without resorting to selling wine afterwards. It seems that he was happy to dispense with the practice; one of the reasons he gave was: "the Wine began to be a nuisance— -crack brained Boys, after cracking Bottles, would break more than the Glasses; and would sometimes loudly give Toasts in the Box Lobby, which were only calculated for the Lobby of a Pot house, and inexcusable there, and this interrupted the order, and compromised the decorum we indefatigably endeavoured to maintain in the Theatre; so that delicacy had, rarely, if ever, to regret a visit to the Wells ..." (Maasics. pp. 97-98). \\/1

2 1 9

I lightness of the penalty Implies that the judge probably did not think • 1 it fair to make a scapegoat out of Osbaldiston while all the other

managers were committing the same felony

Disorderly conduct resulting from drunkenness may well be

imagined* When unrestrained drinking was permitted in a public place

order would be extremely difficult to maintain* Needless to say, not

until there was complete separation of eating and drinking from regular

theatrical entertainment could we expect decorum from the audience* Con

was a pioneer in breaking this untidy habit at the Coburg when she

confined the serving of food and soft drinks to a coffee house nearby

the theatre in 1871

Respectability versus Notoriety

One false impression created in most of the previous studies on

the subject has been the wretchedness of the minor theatre audience

members* Damaging testimonies on one or two particular theatres by

contemporary witnesses on separate incidents were cited as evidence and

used as bases for generalizations* The most famous one is from Hazlitt,s

description of the Coburg audience in 1820:

You felt yourself in a bridewell, or a brothel, amidst Jew- boys, pickpockets, prostitutes, and mountebanks, instead of being in the precincts of Mount Parnassus, or in the company of the Muses* * * *19

17 Hamilton and Baylis, p. 170*

^Hamilton and Baylis, p* 178*

"^William Hazlitt, Collected Works, ed* A* R. Waller and Arnold Glover (London: J* M. Dent & Co*, 1903)* VIII, 409* 220

Another one is from Charles Kingsley* s account of the same theatre tiro or three decades later:

We were passing by the door of the Victoria Theatre; it was just half-price time— and the beggary and rascality of London were pouring into their low amusement, from the neighbouring gin palaces and thieves* cellars. A herd of ragged boys, vomiting forth slang, filth, and blasphemy, pushed past us, compelling us to take good care of our pockets.20

In refuting these pieces of evidence, one might say that probably

Hazlitt* s expectations were too high to begin with. The Coburg (and the other minor theatres for that matter) never pretended to be any

Hprecincts of Mount Parnassus." The low-price policy practiced by most of the managers during the early nineteenth century^* clearly indicates that they intended to cater to the multitudes of low orders of the public whose visits to the theatre were greatly curtailed since the

Elizabethan period. This was a transitional time with a rapid increase 22 in population. For the first time in recent history large numbers of low-class people were night after night pouring into the minor theatres

20 Charles Kingsley, Alton Locke (London: Macmillan and Co., 1878), p. 117. ^ W e have already mentioned the free and one-shilling "orders" in the first two decades; further general reduction in prices took place.in I830*s. When Davidge became the sole lessee of the Coburg, the charge for admission to the boxes was 4s.; to the pit, 2s.; and to the gallery, Is. By the time he gave up his management in 1832, the prices were practically halfed: boxes 2s., pit Is., gallery 6d. ("Under the Clock," 2hSL-$3d5££.» December 29* 1832, p. 3)« An order of Sadler's Wells states. "Admit the bearer and friends to Boxes or Pit by paying (each person,) if to Boxes 2s. if to pit Is. 6d. May 23 to June 30, 1831 (OSUTC film No. 1448*). In 1845, the admission charge to the gallery at the Victoria was further reduced to four pence (Reynolds, p. 53).

Between 1801 and 1831 the population of Greater London had increased from 865,000 to 1,500,000 (Mottram, I, 169). which mushroomed * n over London after 1830* From the Greek times onwards the popular theatre had always aimed at a compromise, a happy meeting ground for the aristocratic and the plebeian taste, but these minor theatres seldom made any pretense to serious drama or expended any extra effort to retain the aristocratic portion of its audience.

Essentially what they did was to aim to please the plebeians alone and to provide the kind of entertainment they desired. To the high-born gentle­ men such as Hazlitt, the masses of lower orders of the populace were probably indistinguishably "Jew-boys," “pickpockets," "prostitutes," and

"mountebanks;" and it might be expected that the public behavior of

these social inferiors was abominable to polite society. Complaints of

that sort were common and should be taken with a grain of salt. For

instance, the drama reviewer from The London Literary Gazette was

appalled that "the better orders of society cannot visit them [the minor

theatres] without being affronted with vice in every quarter" and "if I you seat yourself or family in a public box, the chances are that you are

mixed up with a class whose manners and conversation shook every sense of

decency."^3 Since the undesirable elements could be found in any mixed

public gathering, it would be foolish to deny the possible patronage of

thieves and prostitutes at the Coburg after the half-price time. But it

would be naive to base our generalizations about the minor theatres

solely upon Hazlitt*s and Kingsley*s statements and to infer that most of

the minor theatre audience members were hard-core criminals,

23 The London Literary Gazette. February 1, 1834, p. 84. 222

Furthermore, the ill repute of the Coburg2^ (and possibly of the

Adelphi^) was not wholly applicable to other minor theatres such as the

Surrey and Sadler1s Wells,

The Surrey seemed to have maintained a certain degree of respect­

ability throughout the period of our study. For instance, Exnnriwar

reported in 1833s

We never visit this theatre without regretting that we have not visited it more frequently, and feeling that the neglect is an injustice to much meritorious exertion, • • . The low prices of this house have not been accompanied with any deterioration in performance, or the character of the audience. We saw spirit and ability on the stage, and the only differ­ ence we remarked in the appearances of the pit, boxes, and , gallery, from those of other theatres was. that they were better filled, or literally crammed , , .2“

Zk It is only fair to point out that at least for a time under the management of Abbott and Egerton in 1833* Mit was filled with very fashionable audience, including many noble and distinguished persons" (The London Literary Gazette. July 6, 1833. p. **30). The only trouble was they went bankrupt after one season; after 183**, the Victoria (renamed) simply went to the dogs,

^ W e must admit that the reputation of the Adelphi during this period had not always been irreproachable either. At a performance of The Pirate1s Doom in which T, P. Cooke played the lead, The Theatrical Observer noted: "The piece is well got up**~the last scene of the blowing up of the powder magazine admirably managed. There was much fighting, which probably would have been more effective, but for a real battle in the pit, to which the screams of the women imparted a truth and reality, that quite spoilt the effect of the stage combats" (February 13, 1827), In 1835* The Mew Monthly Magazine reported that "scenes, similar to those which may be witnessed among the most dissolute class frequenting the booths that disgrace a race-course, it is insinuated take place at the back of the theatre. Entertainments are found where the most dreadful act in the drama of dissipation is nightly likely to be realized , , •" (December 1, 1835, P* 521),

26 Thft September 22, 1833. P« 599, 223 Near the end of the period, when Mrs, Davidge became the manageress of the theatre, one reporter observed that "the audience is now as quiet, respectable and well ordered as need be,*27 Aside from these testi­ monies, we know that the Surrey was particularly renowned for its excellence in scenery (the nautical part of which we have already seen) during this period. For instance, the Athenaeum critic after seeing ^ e

Law of the Land in 1837 had this to say:

The scenery is well designed and cleverly painted, and the whole getting up of the piece is most credible to all con­ cerned, The scene of Ranelagh Garden is particularly worthy of praise, and we recommend an immediate deputation from every theatre in London, except Madame Vestris*s, to be sent to see how they "manage these matters" on the despised side of the water ,28 .

It would be difficult to understand why the management bothered to main­ tain such a high standard of excellence and refinement in scenery throughout the years if the audiences were largely composed of beggars and criminals.

In addition, Sadler*s Wells seems also to have retained a respectable name during this period. When it was under the management of

Mrs, FLtzwilliams, Tha Timas reported that one operatic drama "was well 2 9 received by a very crowded and respectable audience." Another report

27The Illustrated London News. July 9. 1842, p. 140,

28The Athenaeum. August 26, 1837* p. 630.

29The Times. July 10, 1833. p. 3. 224

In 1839* though typically condescending in the tone, seems to have been based upon keen and objective observation:

The house was literally crammed, but of the description of persons who formed the audience, we cannot say it was the most select* Everything, however, went off with glee, and although there was an occasional pugilistic interlude in the pit, vet the audience were, on the whole* well conducted [italics nine], and seemed to enjoy most thoroughly the cheap amusement with which the proprietors of this little theatre had supplied thea,30

Spectators and Actors

Hazlitt aay have been responsible for another misconception about the ainor theatre audiences and their relationships with actors.

In the same review on minor theatres written in 1820, he maintains:

The audience [at the Coburg] did not hiss the actors (that would have implied a serious feeling of disapprobation, and something like a disappointed wish to be pleased) but they laughed, hooted at, nick-named, pelted them with oranges and witticisms, to show their unruly contempt for them and their art; while the performers, to be even with the audience, evidently alurred their parts, as if ashamed to be thought to take any interest in them, laughed, in one another*s faces, and in that of their friends in the pit, and most effectually marred the process of theatrical illusion, by turning the whole into a most unprincipled burlesque • , ,31

Again, we wonder whether Hazlitt*e description of the audience attitude

and his interpretation of spectator-actor relationship of what he saw at

the Coburg in 1820 would be applicable to other minor theatres a decade

or two later, Vfe shall take up the audience attitude in the next section

and will only consider the spectator-actor relationship at the present

time.

t 30 The Times. December 27, 1839, p, 5*

^Hazlitt, p, 410. 225

Reading In contemporary records between 1824 and 1843 clearly indicates that the actors in most of the minor theatres were usually very mindful of their patrons and more than eager to please. The things The

New Montftlv M»g«g-ina liked about the actors at Sadler * s Wells could not be further from what Hazlitt has attributed to them:

We enter the theatre and prepare to enjoy its gay troop of vagabonds, hardly claiming the sad dignity of metropolitan actors. They' live on the outskirts of the drama, in the furthest suburb of melodrama and farce, with more apparent happiness and less pretense than any of their brothers of the sock and buskin. For our parts, we are free to confess that we like the rogues well; they have most of the vivacity, the carelessness, the poverty, and the ease of real strollers; and never seem at a loss but when a "star" comes among them • • .32

As for neglecting their audience, let us read the following advice The

Theatrical Observer gave to a young simple actress named Miss Stephens in 1827:

Forget that there is, in the Surrey Theatre, such a part as the gallery, or if she cannot absolutely forget it, to avoid, 1 as she would a pestilence, the withering breath of its applause.33

Obviously Miss Stephens had not been inattentive to the "gods" either by

her own instinct or advice from her fellow actors; or she simply found

"the withering breath" of their applause inspiring and rewarding. In

1841, The Theatrical Journal made a similar complaint of Hicks*s acting

at the Surrey:

The guttural growling and over-strained efforts of Mr. Hicks are really intolerable. Does this gentleman think it his duty to please none but the "god?" There may be some magic in the "bravo, HicksI" which occasionally greets his maniacal

32Ihe New Monthly Magazine. September 1, 1825, p. 393.

-^The Theatrical Observer. August 28, 1827. 2 2 6

contortions, but he shouLd not forget that there is something due to the respectable and Intellectual portion of the audi­ ence. Let us hope he will take the hint and abandon his rage for "tearing a passion to tatters,"34

We suspect that the "respectable and intellectual" people from high society must have been a minority in the audience, and Mr. Hicks probably had no need to revise his acting style as long as his plebeian

"gods" continued to applaud.

It seems that most of the minor theatre audiences were enthusi­ astic and loyal towards their own local favorites. The famous Edmund

Kean incident at the Coburg in 1831 was a good manifestation of the excessive partisan feeling the Coburg audiences had for their own star

C o b h a m .3-5 It may be that audience-actor relations had improved a great

3**The Theatrical Journal. April 9. 1842, p. 115. 35gdmund Kean was engaged as a guest star by Davidge to appear for six performances in the summer of 1831. On his first night*s performance as Richard III, The Times reports: "After the tragedy was concluded there was a general call for Mr. Kean, who obeyed it after a short delay, and he was hailed with the most enthusiastic applause. He attempts to address the audience, but some well-intended, though most mistaken, persons kept up such deafening cries of "Order" and "Silence," that he was unable to make himself heard, and he retired apparently very much amused at the wisdom of those who endeavoured him to obtain silence by bawling and making as much noise as they could . • .* (June 28, 1831, p. 3)« On July 1, throughout the evening "the popping of ginger-beer bottles in the gallery marred his best effects and, above all, he was continually irritated by criej of *bravo, Cobham, bravo t* the applause he received being very much less than that given to Cobham," the local favourite who played Iago to Kean*s Othello. When Kean appeared at the curtain call he was in an angry mood: "I have acted in every theatre in the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, and in all the principal towns throughout the United States of America, but in my life I never acted to such a set of ignorant, unmitigated brutes as I now see before me." The audience was stunned by his audacity to address them like that. As if to punish the great actor, it cried for "Cobham." The local star "appeared bowing and smiling, and went through pantomimic&l expressions of gratitude and emotion" and addressed the audience in the following fashion: "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is unquestionably the proudest moment of my life. I cannot give utterance to my feelings; but to the 227 deal since the time of Hazlitt* s writing, but again, we wonder how much what he saw was influenced by his social prejudices.

i '■ The Taste of Minor Theatre Audiences

Jaded cynicism and sophistication probably would be the last characteristic one could use in describing the minor theatre audiences during the period of this study. It was not infrequent that TVf Pi"8? termed the minor audiences as "determined to be pleased,"3^ "delighted and eager,and full of "harmless ebullitions of good humour."38 jn reading over the contemporary records, one is constantly struck by the simpleness and the naivete of their taste in theatrical entertainment.

For instance, during the rage for dog shows in 1834, one critic saw a piece at the Victoria, the only merit of which was to afford "an oppor­ tunity for displaying the great sagacity and the docility of the dog

Bruin, who, wounded in defence of his master, cripples through the remainder of the piece on three legs, the other being supposed broken."

His comments on the audience reaction and their interests are somewhat condescending but observant:

The gods and pit-iful creatures below were in raptures at this exhibition. What with savages and sailors, hair-breadth * scapes, war-dances, hornpipes, etc. etc. the piece is full lastest hour of my existence I shall cherish the remembrance of the honour conferred on me by one of the most distinguished, liberal and enlightened audiences I ever had(the pleasure of addressing" (see J. Fitzgerald Molloy, The Life and Adventures of Edmund Kean [London: Ward and Downey, 1888], II, 232-3*0. 36 Tha Times. December 8, 1826, p. 3, on the Adelphi. 37 The Timas. September 21, 1842, p. 5* on Sadler*s Wells.

•^The Times. April 5» 1831, p. 3» on the Coburg. t

228 * of that sort of interest which belongs to its class, and was applauded accordingly,39

However, it is important to remember that there was nothing debased or degenerate in the tastes of the majority of the minor theatre audiences.

In our study of the nautical drama of the period, which was exclusively

| l Q a minor product, we seldom find anything morbid or unhealthy in its appeals. In the simplest terms, we might say that the nautical dramatists as a man tried to cater to some of the following public needs: hero- worshipping, moral conformity, compassion for the less fortunate, poetic justice, and vicarious adventure and romance. Or, in other words, the exact ingredients we might find in the popular motion pictures of our times. As far as taste is'concerned, it is justifiable to maintain that fundamentally the differences between the minor theatre audiences and our contemporary cinema addicts are very slight.

39 The. London. Literary Gazette. May 31. 183^, p, 389* ifO As we have noted before, successful nautical plays such as The Pilot. Black-Eyed Susan, etc, were transplanted to the major theatres; but it must be emphasized that no major theatre ever originated any significant nautical plays. After T. P, Cooke1s successful appearances as William in Black-Eyed Susan at Covent Garden in 1830, the manager hired Pocock to write a nautical play specially for Cooke, The result was its October, 1830, production of The Blue Anchor; or. a Tar for All Weathers* which turned out to be a fiasco. The Theatrical Observer commented: "At a Minor, as a Spectacle, and very much curtailed, the Melodrama might succeed, but at Covent Garden it cannot long maintain a sickly existence , . ,H (October 19, 1830), Conclusions

In this chapter, we have suggested that the behavioral' differ­ ences between the minor and modern audiences are largely the result of different customs and habits In their respective theatres. What seems rude and barbarous In our times was acceptable in the early nineteenth I century. We have discussed the minor theatre audiences1 verbal responses and eating and drinking habits in the theatre.

We have pointed out that previous critical opinions seem to have made too much out of the rudeness and wretchedness of the Coburg Theatre audiences in their generalizations about the minor theatres as a whole.

In this chapter, we have introduced new evidence to show that some of the minor theatres such as Sadler1 s Wells and the Surrey had maintained a I • high degree of respectability throughout this period.

We have also tried to evaluate some of the well-known contemporary testimonies with more objectivity and to point out some of the miscon­ ceptions concerning the minor theatre audiences.

It is easy to dismiss the minor theatre audiences as noisy, uncouth, and sometimes indecorous in conduct; however, their enthusiasm and loyalty to their own favorite actors, their joviality and inclination to enjoy themselves, their eagerness to participate in melodramas that appealed to them— all seem to redeem their other faults and qualify them as what we might call "good" audiences. CHAPTER VIII

CONCLUSIONS

1 Summary

In this- study we have selected a period during which the stage presentations on nautical subject matter assumed the form of melodrama.

An attempt has been made to trace the development of the nautical drama during 1824-18*0 with proper historical perspective.

Utilizing the two separate elements— the nautical character and the nautical spectacle— of his predecessors. Fitzball started a new tradition for later playwrights to follow. Fitzball*s melodramas usually have a main theme in the restoration of a displaced heir and the destruction of the villainous. However, the most important ingredient in his formula is the display of nautical spectacles. Essentially, the nautical drama of Fitzball was a sort of ready-made commodity which

catered to the taste and the needs of the illiterate and unsophisticated minor theatre audiences. Among these needs were hero-worshipping, moral

conformity, poetic justice, and vicarious adventure and romance.

In Jerrold, the nautical drama for a short time took a drastic

turn. Social problems of the navy, under the cover of historical realism,

began to assert themselves. Prompted by an inner urge to help the

ill-used naval seamen, Jerrold turned the nautical drama into a weapon

for advocating social justice. In Chapter Five, the investigation of the

230 231 abuses and grievances in the navy amply testifies to the validity of his protest.

Another important innovation Jerrold brought to the nautical drama was the use of melodramatic devices to elicit tears and audience empathy. The element of pathos made his plays more universal and appealing than Fitzball1s ever had been. The very fact that his HLack-

Eved-Susan was frequently revived in the second half of the nineteenth century long after all the other nautical plays had been forgotten is a tribute to his craftsmanship. •

In the nautical drama after 1830, we find that the Fitzball tradition largely dominated the stage. Few plays were written in the \ ■ vein of sentimental realism explored by Jerrold; fewer playwrights carried on his torch of social protest. It is tempting to conjecture that the gradual improvement of the social conditions in the navy may have made such protest unnecessary, but unfortunately the conjecture is not borne out by the facts. For instance, the most heinous mode of naval discipline— flogging— was not abolished until 1879*

The popular successes the minor theatre audiences bestowed upon

Jerrold*s provocative nautical drama did them credit, but as the period progressed Jerrold*s influence began to wane. Probably they_felt more comfortable with the Fitzball type of escapist spectacle and melodramatic concoctions than the Jerrold type of intellectually and emotionally more exacting sentimental realism. The public demand for the former was amply reflected in the career of Haines as a nautical playwright.

Excelling in both traditions, he wrote exclusively romance-adventure I oriented plays after 1835* 232

Throughout this study emphasis has been put on the visual appeal of the nautical drama, an element which was neglected by all previous studies on the subject. Reconstructions of certain significant nautical scenes based upon available pictorial and textual materials have been frequently attempted. The purpose has been to suggest, if not to recapture, at least some of the visual impacts the nautical drama must have had on its audiences in addition to the various melodramatic appeals which have been disclosed to us through a detailed analysis of these plays. In Chapter V, we have also looked into some of the secrets of nautical staging. We have found that wave machines in the nineteenth

century differed little from those known to us in the Renaissance.

Models for ship sailing and various miscellaneous special effects have also been suggested.

Since most of these plays were prompted not so much by the authors1 literary ambition to excellence as purely by their desire to please and entertain the minor theatre audiences, in Chapter VII we have

tried to point out some of the particular habits and customs of these

audiences. They apparently subscribed to a more liberal code of behavior

than their modern counterparts and were permitted to make verbal responses

and to indulge in eating and drinking during a performance. We have also

tried to correct some of the misconceptions about these audiences.

Boisterous and sometimes indecorous in conduct, they came from humble

walks of life but were by no means social degenerates. Their enthusiasm

and loyalty toward their own local favorite actors and their eagerness to

participate in melodramas that aroused their interests seemed to redeem

their other faults. I

233

The Reasons of Decline of the Nautical Drama I During the rage for horse shows in 1841 when the Surrey changed its pit into a circus ring, it elicited these sentiments from the reviewer of The Theatrical Journal;

Farewell to the good old days of nautical heroes, their days are gone. No more gallant ships float over the bosom of the waves— the British flag that once was triumphant, and which was cheered whilst the band struck up Rule Britannia, is now laid in the dust, and trampled under the foot by prancing steeds* • •

This dirge for nautical drama was probably a little premature for the ring was only a temporary installation and the nautical drama apparently lingered on for a whileBut the good old days of the nautical drama were certainly numbered. While it is impossible to be absolutely cer­ tain why the nautical drama declined around the mid-century, the following circumstantial considerations may be offered as a plausible explanation:

1* With the adoption of the steamers for war-ships, the age of machine had finally overcome the obstinate traditionalism of the navy*

The great age of sail came to an end. The wooden sailing ships were

1The Theatrical Journal. August 14, 1841, pp. 257-58. 2 Original nautical plays were still to be produced at the Surrey during that decade. We have the playscripts of C. Z. Barnett’s Minute Gun at Sea (November 24, 1845) and Edward Stirling, Anchor of Hope (April 9, 1847). They both belong to the Fitzball tradition. 234 superseded by the steamships.^ With that came specialization in the . . I navy* The tough picturesque brine-pickled sailor who relied so much on his bare strength and agile limbs in his struggle against the elements of nature in the open sea were replaced by the neat* mechanically minded engineer with scientific instruments* It is understandable that in the public eye the cool-headed engineer could hardly substitute for the simple-minded picturesque sailor who had been traditionally linked with individual heroism* romance, and adventure.^ The nautical drama which largely evolves around a nautical figure naturally could not survive very long after this modification of its central hero*

2* The general trend in drama in the mid-century turned to realism, which brought about a drastic change in staging methods. The using of three-sided box-sets and carpet on the stage made the border- wing-trap machinery of the Georgian theatre obsolete. Since one of the main attractions of the nautical drama was the staging of nautical

^For a fascinating account of the Admiralty*s gallant resistance to converting wooden sailing-ships to steamships see Christopher Lloyd* A Short History of the Royal Maw. 18Q5-1918 (London: Methuen & Co., 19^6 ), pp, 54-62. 1845 seems to be the decisive year after which auxiliary screws and steam gradually replaced wood and sail.

^Disher records how J. P. Hart tried to bring the Jolly Jack Tar up to date by letting a ship* s engineer in Jane, the Victualler1 s Daughter (Pavilion* Whitechapel, 1840) say "The steam of my affection is up," and "Cupid has fastened his shaft into.my crank wheel." But the attempt was ill-advised; his dramas "were not wanted on the.conservative Surreyside, ..." (pp. 184-85). It apparently took time for the ordinary folk to adjust to the idea that engineers could also be heroes of romance. 235

spectacles, the managers found the staging of this type of draKa

unmanageable

3* With the gradual return of the middle-class audience and

polite society to some of the minor theatres (such as Sadler*s Wells

after 18*44 and The Queen*s after 1865), the boisterous, simple-minded minor theatre audiences of the first decades of the nineteenth century

finally retreated to other places of entertainment such as musical halls

This change in audience composition naturally brought about a change in

dramatic fare at these theatres. The minor theatre audience iri the

second half of the nineteenth century were more sophisticated in taste

and preferred the Robertson type of realism.

Suggestions for Future Studies

This study advances the use of toy theatre prints as legitimate

subsidiary sources for research in the nineteenth-century British theatre.

It should be noted that BLack-Eved Susan was frequently revived during the second half of the nineteenth century, apparently not so much for its nautical interest as for its appeal to domestic pathos. The last known record was at the Adelphi in December, 1896 (W. Davenport Adams, A Dictionary of the Drama [London: Chatto & Windus, 1904], I, 167). Later revivals usually condensed the story and reduced the shifts in locale to a minimum. For instance, in the 1880 "rehabilitation" of the play at the James*s Theatre, it was condensed into two acts with two settings— the interior of William's cottage and a Common near Deal (Dutton Cook, Nights at the Play [London: Chatto and Windus, 1883], pp. 417-21).

^Nicoll says: "As a result the theatres became more comfortable, the more rowdy spectators confined themselves to their own special haunts, experiments were made in the way of reserving seats, the stalls increased in number and, being filled now with ar solid mass of serious persons instead of the noisy 'Corinthians' and their lady friends, led to more refined and subtle methods of acting" ("The Theatre," Early Victorian England,. 1830-1865. ed. G, M. Young [London: Oxford University Press, 1934], II, 279). 236

As a continuation of the line explored by other researchers utilizing

the Victoria and Albert Museum materials at the Ohio State University

Theatre Collection,? this study further illustrates the point that in

view of the paucity of pictorial materials before I85O the toy theatre

prints when used with caution and with other primary sources such as

eye-witness accounts and prompt notes could provide valuable information I on the visual aspects of the nineteenth-century British drama. The

possibilities of using these toy theatre prints are by no means exhausted.

The catalogues of toy theatre prints in Speaight amply indicate that studies of other types of nineteenth-century drama can benefit greatly

from these pictorial materials.

In our analysis of the nautical drama of Jerrold, a great deal of

emphasis has been on the social background of the subject matter of the I genre— the British naval seaman. If the nautical drama of Jerrold

reflects the social milieu of the navy, it is reasonable to assume that

other types of melodrama of the period also may very well reflect social

problems in other areas (the anti-slavery campaign, for instance). It

would seem that studies with this kind of emphasis could be profitably

undertaken.

7 Allan S. Jackson, "Production and Staging of the English Pantomime as illustrated by Harlequin and the Red Dwarf: or, The Adamant Rock, Performed at Covent Garden Theatre December 26, 1812" (unpublished Master's thesis, The Ohio State University, 1958); John C. Morrow, "The Staging of Pantomime at Sadler's Wells Theatre, 1828-1860" (unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, The Ohio State University, 1963). APPENDIXES APPENDIX A

A CHRONOLOGY OF THE TWENTY-FIVE NAUTICAL PLAYS DISCUSSED IN THIS STUDY

Theatre

Opening Principal Actors Play Author Remarks1 Date and Parts U 4a H & 43 T3 <

April 19, 182^ The Floating Beacon E. Fitzball Gallot as Jack Junk Transported to S. W. on May 10, 182^

Oct. 31, 1825 The Pilot E. fitzball Cooke as Tom Coffin Terry as Pilot Yates as Barnstable

Dec. 5, 1826 The Flying Dutchman E. Fitzball Cooke as Vender- Nicoll, Jan. 1, decken 1827 Terry as Peppercoal

Nov. 19, 1827 Nelson E. Fitzball Cooke as Jack S|ykes Terry as Lord Nelson Yates as Moses Mrs. Yates as Rachael Theatre (0 Pi Opening £ Principal Actors Play Author s Remarks Date o and Parts Pi 3 £ ■8 <55 CJ <2

May 26, 1828 The Inchcane Bell E. Fitzball Osbaldiston as Rover Rogers as Jupiter Seabreeze

Feb. 9. 1829 The Red Rover E. Fitzball Cooke as Fid Date from Yates as Red Rover Nicoll

June 8, 1829 HLack-Eved Susan D. Jerrold Cooke as William Transported to Miss Scott as Susan Covent Garden Nov. 30, 1829

Feb. 1, 1830 Tom Bowling A. L. V. Williamson as Campbell Mainsheet Campbell as Tom Bowling

Jun. 7, 1830 Xhg, Mutapy, D. Jerrold Cobham as Parker Transported to tfr? Kara Farrell as Jack Coburg Aug. 19. Adams 1830; Tottenham Street, Oct. 9* 1830 July 5. 1830 The Press Gang D. Jerrold - Cooke as Arthur Bryght Miss Scott Osbaldiston as Archibald Theatre

Opening Principal Actors Play Author Remarks

______and Parts Date a w to •rlo ■8 Sadler*s Sadler*s Wells Surrey Adelphi o A

Sep.[23], 1833 The Sea C. Somerset Elliot as Henry Nicoll, Olympic, Helm May 18, 1842 Mrs. Selby as Mary

Oct. 28, 1833 Captain Ross Farrell as Will Weathergale Shoard as Will Blake Cline as E. Ross

Dec. 8, 1834 Jacob Faithful J. T. Haines * Hill as Young Tom Nicoll, Vic­ Davidge as Old Tom toria, Dec. 16, Bland as Jacob 1834 [wrong theatre and date]

Aug. 31. 1835 Kv Poll & Mr J. T. Haines * Cooke as Harry Halyard Miss Maearthy as Poll

April 4, 1836 The Ocean of Life J. T. Haines * Cooke as Mat - Merriton Miss Maearthy as

Isabella 240 r Theatre

CO 3 £ Opening Principal Actors Play Author in Remarks Date M and Parts **» u bO © © r-l £ ,Q u >§

CO Pavilion

July 14, 1836 Bound 1 Prentice A. L. V. Campbell as Dick Nicoll, July 19» to a Waterman Campbell Dark 1836 Hicks as Artois Latour

Aug. 22, 1836 Rattlin the J. T. Haines Mrs. Vining as Reefer Rattlin the Reefer Archer as Oakhead

Mar. 27, 1837 Breakers Ahead J. T. Haines Haines as Allan Maydev C. Hill as Long Luke

Dec. 6, 1837 Jack* s the Lad W. Rogers Campbell as Jack Not listed in Spry Nicoll

Aug. 19, 1839 Ben the Boatswain T. Egerton Cooke as Ben Bowling

Sep. 2, 1840 The Wizard of J. T. Haines Hicks as Charles Nicoll, Sept. 7, the Wave Falkner 1840

Sep. 21, 1840 TlW i<9eg..90ftg- C. Z. Barnett Hill as Lt. Trevor Rgyal

Principal Actors Opening Remarks Play Author and Parts Date >» bO e a . u e I S o co 5 o

Jan. 23, 18*0 Ruth J. T. Haines Saville as Harry July 24, 1843 The Dream E. Wilks Spectre Spritsail Seaman as Grafton

Nicoll, Nov. 16, Nov. 13, 1843 The Lost Ship W. T. Cooke as Ben Trenant Townsend Hicks as Ned Martin 1843

1The Hand list in Nicoll*s A History of English Drama. 166Q-1900, IV, is referred to in this column simply as Nicoll. APPENDIX B

THE NAUTICAL DRAMA AND CURRENT EVENTS \

The popularity and the tenacious occupancy on the minor stages of the nautical drama for so many decades may have been due to the affection which the common people had for the naval profession and the various appeals (melodramatic and spectacular) which the drama itself - contains^ but another factor may also have contributed to its longevity.

On July 23, 1830, The Times reported:

The minor theatres, always ready to take advantage of every subject which for the moment much occupies the public atten­ tion, have, as was to be expected, lost no time in getting up performances, nautical or otherwise, in honour of the accession of His Majesty William IV, and his Royal Consort Queen Adelaide. . . .

The entertainment Sadler’s Wells presented for this occasion was a nautical drama entitled A British Sailor of Home and Abroad: at the

Coburg it was an "extemporaneous sketch" called The Launch of the Good

Ship William and the Royal Adelaide: since the Surrey already had two nautical pieces in its current performance (The Press Gang and Black-

Eved Susan), only a song called "The King and the Jackets of Blue"

(sung by T. P. Cooke) was added to the regular program. "His Majesty’s early popularity," the report continued, "is the fact of his having been brought up in that branch of the national service which has ever been most in favor with the people, as forming their most natural and

243 244 constitutional defense, the navy."^ It was partially because of the minor theatres* ability to capitalize promptly on current events such as this one that the nautical drama was kept on the boards for such a long I time.

Of the twenty-five plays surveyed during the years 1824-43, we

are quite certain that the initial productions of at least three plays were spurred by current naval events.

1. Reviewing Fitzball's Nelson: or. the Life of a Sailor which

opened on November 19, 182? at the Adelphi, The Times maintains that

"thesubject of the piece . . . was evidently adopted atthis particular moment to catch the popular feeling, excitedby the recent triumph at

Navarino."2 Since the first dispatch of news directly from Navarino

did not appear in Tha Timas until November 12,3 the Adelphi had only one

week to get up the play. Searching headlines for dramatic topics and

writing under pressure, as we understand from his memoirs, was not new

to Fitzball; a few days probably was all he needed to turn out another

potboiler.

2. The author of Captain Ross also had less than one week to

prepare his play upon the news of the arrival of Captain Ross in Hull,

which was reported in The Times on October 21, 1833 Since the story

line of the play roughly follows the famous explorer's adventure, it is

“ ' - " " I 1The Times. July 23, 1830, p. 5.

2Tha Timas. November 20, 1827, p. 2.

^The Times. November 12, 182?, p. 3. f 4The Times. October 21, 1833. p. 3. 245 1 most likely that the playwright had read the brief newspaper account before he wrote the play.

3* In the summer of 1840, the Admiralty made another attempt at recovering the wreckage of the Royal George. From a report in The Times. the work must have started before August.5 The Loss of the Royal George at Sadler1s Wells, which opened on September 21, apparently was meant to capture the public interest in that undertaking.

These are only three verifiable historical events which have served as stimuli for the nautical drama. It is conceivable that some other nautical productions during this time may also have been stimulated by actual naval activities and events.

**The Times. November 2, 1840, p. 5. 1 BIBLIOGRAPHY

Plavscrints

Barnett, C. Z. The Loss of the Royal George; or. the Fatal Land Breeze, a Nautical Drama in Two Acts. Dicks1 Standard Plays, No. 775* n.d.; Buncombe, Vol. XLII, n.d.

Campbell, A. L. V. Bound 'Prentice to a Waterman; or. the Flower of Woolwich, a Nautiof^ pyapa in Three Acts. G. H. Davidson, n.d.

Campbell, A. L. V. Tom Bowline, a Nautical Drama in Two Acts. Cumber­ land1 s Minor Theatre, Vol. Ill, n.d.; Dick's Standard Plays, No. 732, n.d.; Lacy's Acting Edition, Vol. CVII, n.d.

Captain Ross; the Hero of the Arctic Regions, a Nautical Drama in Two Acts. Unknown publisher ( OSUTC Film No. 134$.

Cross, James C. Blackboard: or. the Captive Prince, a Serio-Comic Rail at -^.n Two Acts. Dun combe, n.d.

Cross, James C. The Purse; or. Benevolent Tar, a Musical Drama in One Act. Dublin! Printed for R. Cowley, 1746.

Cross, James C. Sir Francis Drake, and Iron Arm, a New Naval Spectacle. "Dramatic Work," Vol. II. London, 1812.

Dibdin, Thomas John. The English Fleet in 1342. an Historical Comic Opera in Three Acts. Cumberlandj n.d.

Fitzball, Edward. The Floating Beacon: or. the Norwegian Wreckers,, a Melodrama in Two Acts. British Theatre, Vol. 50t n.d.; Circulating Library and Dramatic Repository ed. n.d. (OSUTC Promptbook No. 409); John Lowndes, n.d.

Fitzball, Edward. The flying Dutchman; or. the Phantom Ship, a Nautical Drama, in Three Acts. Cumberland's Minor Theatre, Vol. II, n.d. (OSUTC Promptbook No. P549). Lacy's Acting Edition, Vol. LXXI, n.d. (OSUTC Film No. 1329); unknown publishers (OSUTC Prompt­ book No. 44); No. 548 (George Becks' Promptbook); and No. 549 (John Proctor's Promptbook).

Fitzball, Edward. The Inchcape Bell; or. the Dumb Sailor Boy, a Nautical Burletta in Two Acts. Cumberland's Minor Theatre, Vol. I, n.d. (OSUTC Film No. 343).

246 2k7

Fitzball, Edward. Nelson: or. the Life of a Sailor, a Nautical Drama in Two Acts. Dicks* Standard Flays, No. 760, n.d.

Fitzball, Edward. The Pilot: A Nautical Burletta in Three Acts. Cumber­ land's Minor Theatre, n.d. (OSUTC Film No. 3 ^ « Promptbook No. 8^5} Dicks* Standard Plays, No. 3**7, n.d. (OSUTC Film No. 1323); French, n.d.

Fitzball, Edward. The Red Rover: or the Mutiny of the Dolphin, a Nautical Drama in Two Acts. Cumberland's Minor Theatre, Vol. VI, n.d. (OSUTC Promptbook No. 55*0; Dicks* Standard Plays, No. 450, n.d. (OSUTC Film No. 13^).

Haines, John Thomas. Breakers Ahead: or. a Seaw*fw'« l-og. a Nautical Drama i n Three Acts. Dim combe, Vol. XXVII, n.d.

Haines, John Thomas. Jacob Faithful: the Liehter-Boy. a Tale of the Thames in Three Acts. Dicks* Standard Plays, No. 507, n.d.; Duncombe, Vol. XVI, n.d.

Haines, John Thomas. My Poll and My Partner Joe, a Nautical pyama in Three Acts. Dicks* Standard Plays, No. 500, n.d. (OSUTC Film No. 1356); French, No. 1058, n.d.; Lacy*s Acting Edition, Vol. LXXI. OSUTC Promptbook No. 1^09.

Haines, John Thomas. The Ocean of Life: or. Every Inch a Sailor, a Nautical Drama in Three Acts. British Theatre, Vol. 59, n.d.; Dicks* Standard Plays, No. 63**, n.d.; Cumberland's Minor Theatre, Vol. XI, n.d.

Haines, John Thomas.' Rattlin the Reefer: or. the Tiger of the Sea, a Naut-i nal Drama in Three Acts. Duncombe, Vol. XXIV, n.d. I Haines, John Thomas. Ruth: or. the Lass That Loves a Sailor. A Nautical Drama in Three Acts. Dicks* Standard Plays, No. 925, n.d.; Lacy's Acting Edition, Vol. XLIX, n.d.

Haines, John Thomas. The Wizard of the Wave: or the Ship of the Avenger. a_Legendary Nautical Drama in Three Acts. Dicks' Standard Plays, No. 921, n.d.; J. Pattie, n.d.

Jerrold, Douglas. Black-Eyed Susan: or, All in theDowns. a Nautical and Domestic Drama in Two Acts. Dicks* Standard Plays, No. 230 (OSUTC Film No. 13**6); DeWitt, n.d.; French, n.d. (OSUTC Promptbook No. 600); Lacy's Acting Edition, Vol. XXIII (OSUTC Promptbook No. 1627).

Jerrold, Douglas. The Mutiny at the Nore. a Nautical D^ama in Three Acts. Cumberland's Minor Theatre, Vol. V, n.d.; Dicks* Standard Plays, No. 795* n.d.; Lacy*s Acting Edition, Vol. LXXVII, n.d. 248

Rogers, W. Jack’s the Lad; or. the Pride of the Ocean, an Original Drama In Two Acts. Dicks* Standard Flays, No. 972, n.d.

Somerset, Charles A. The Sea, a Nautical Prama Two Acts. Cumberland*s Minor Theatre, Vol. VII, n.d.; Lacy’s Acting Edition, Vol. CV, n.d.

Townsend, W. Thompson. The Lost Shin: or. the Man-Of-War’s Shin and the Privateer, a Nautical TW« a Three Acts. Dicks* Standard Flays, No. 705» n»d.; Lacy's Acting Edition, Vol. XX, n.d.

Wilks, Thomas Egerton. Ben the Boatswain: or. Sailors* Sweethearts, a Nautical Drama, in Three Acts. Dicks* Standard Flays, No. 75^, n.d.; Duncombe, Vol. XXXVIII.

Wilks, Thomas Egerton. The Dream Spectre: the Legend of the Sleeper*s ffl’rtf11! f ffowftwtM in Three Acts. Dicks' Standard Plays, No. 913. n.d.; Lacy's Acting Edition, Vol. XL, n.d.

■Tuvan-Ha TVamas

The Floating Beacon. Mathew's juvenile drama, 1887 (OSUTC Film No 1176); Mathew's juvenile drama, n.d. (OSUTC Film No. 1173).

The Flying PHsftyfln- Green's juvenile drama, n.d. (OSUTC Film No. 1111).

My poll ynd Partner Joe. M. Skelt's juvenile drama (OSUTC Film No. 1142).

Nelson. Maunder’s juvenile drama, n.d. (OSUTC Film No. 1051).

Tha Pj-lot. D. Straker's juvenile drama, 1828 (OSUTC Film No. 1055); B. Skelt's juvenile drama, n.d. (OSUTC Film No. 1169).

The Red Rover. Green's juvenile drama, 1836 (OSUTC Film No. 1095); M. & M. Skelt's juvenile drama, n.d. (OSUTC Film No. 1167); Myers's juvenile drama, n.d. (OSUTC Film No. 1213); Park's juvenile drama, n.d. (OSUTC Film No. 1188).

The Search for the North Pole. Andrews* juvenile drama, n.d. (OSUTC Film, No. 1362).

Jacob Faithful. M. & M. Skelt (OSUTC Film No. 1149). 2*»9

Books

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Brewster, Sir David. Letters on Natural Magic. London, 183^.

Clinton-Baddeley, V. C. A n Right on the Night. Putnam: Great Russell, 195^.

Clinton-Baddeley, V. C. The Burlesque Tradition in the English Theatre after 1660. London: Methuen & Co., 1952.

Cook, Dutton. Nights at the Plav. London: Chatto and Wiridus, 1883.

Cooper, J. F. The Pilot: A Tale of the_Sea. New York: Charles Wiley, 1823.

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Dibdin, Thomas John. The Reminiscences of Thofias London: Henry Colburn, 1837.

Dillion, William Henry. A Narrative of M y Professional Adventures. 1790- 1839. "Publications of the Navy Records Society*11 Vol. XCVII. N.P.: Printed for the Navy Records Society, 1956.

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Erie, Thomas William. Letters from a Theatrical Scene-Painter: Being Sketches of the Minor Theatres of London As They Were Twenty Years Ago. London: Marcus Ward & Co., 1880.

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Laurence, John. A History of Capital Punishment. New York: The Citadel Press, i960. 251

Leech, Samuel. Thirty Years from Home; or. a Voice from the Main Deck. London: J* S. Pratt, 1845*

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Marryat, Captain Frederick. Suggestions for the Abolition of the Present System of Impressment, in the Naval Service. London: J. M. Richardson, 1822.

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Molloy, J. Fitzgerald. The Life and Adventures of Edmund Kean. London: Ward and Downey, 1888.

Moynet, M. J. L 1Envers da Theatre. Paris: Librarie Machette, 1873.

Nicol, John. The Life and Adventures of John Nicol. Mariner. London: Cassell & Co., 1937* (First published in 1822: London: Blackwood and Cadell.)

Nicoll, Allardyce. A History of Entrijgh ^frama. 1660-1900. Cambridge: At the University Press, 1955*

Pemberton, Charles Reece. The Autobiography of Pel. Ver.iuice. London: The Scholartis Press, 1929.

Reynolds, Ernest. Early Victorian Drama. 1830-1870. Cambridge: W, Heffer & Sons Ltd., 1936. 252

Richardson, William. A Mariner of England: An Account of the Career of William M ehardson from Cabin Bov in the Merchant Service to Warrant Officer in the Royal Navy (1780-1819) as Told by Himscll. Edited by Colonel Spencer Childers. London: John Murrey, 1908.

Robinson, Charles N. The British Fleet: The Growth. Achievements and Duties of the Navy of the Empire. London: George Bell & Son, ; 1894.

Rowell, George. * The Victorian Theatre. London: Oxford University Press, 1956.

Sadleir, Michael. X U Century Fiction: A Bibliographical Record Based on His Own Collection. Cambridge: University Press, 1951*

Speaight, George. Juvenile Drama: The History of the English Toy Theatre. London: McDonald & Co., 1946.

Watson, Ernest Bradlee. Sheridan to Robertson: A Study of the Nine­ teenth-Century London Stage. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1926.

Wemyess, Francis Courtney. Twenty-Six Years of the Life of an Actor and Manager. New York: Bturgess, Stringer and Co., 1847.

Wilkinson, Robert. T.nwdnn n i ustrata. London: Published by Robert Wilkinson, 1819.

Periodicals and Articles

The Athenaeum. 1828-5?.

Ballard, G. A. "The Navy," Early Victorian England. 1830-1865. Vol. I. Edited by G. M. Young. London: Oxford University Press, 1934.

"Behind the Scene," Theatre Notebook. Vol. 10 (1955-56), PP. 82-83.

Bullocke, J. G. "The Mutiny at Spithead," Mutiny! Being Accounts of Insurrections. Famous and Infamous, on Land and Sea, from the Days of the Caesars to Modern Times. Edited by Edmund Fuller. New York: Crown Publishers, Inc., 1953.

"Dioptrics," Encyclopaedia Britannica. 2nd ed. Edinburgh, 1778. Vol. IV.

The Examiner. 1823-33.

Furttenbach, Joseph. "The Noble Mirror of Art, 1663." Translated by George Kemodle, in *pia Renaissance Stage. Florida: University of Miami Press, 1958, pp. 178-251. — . 253

Graves, Robert Edmund. "Dave, Henry Edward,” The National Ea.ctio.nery of ' Bjggr«to* Vol..v (19^-50).

The Illustrated London News. 1842.

Logan, Olive. "Secret Region of the Stage,” Harper*s New Monthly Magazine. April 1874, pp. 628-42.

The London Literary Gazette. 1828-40.

Mottraxu, R. H. "Town Life,” Earlv Victorian England. 1830-1865. Vol. I. Edited hy G. M. Young. London: Oxford 'University Press, 1934.

The New Monthly Magazine. 1825-35*

Nicoll, Alardyce. "The Theatre," Earlv Victorian England. 1830-1865, Vol. II, Edited by G. M. Young. London: Oxford University Press, 1934.

Rees, Abraham (Ed.). "Dramatic Machinery,” The Cyclopaedia: or. Universal Dictionary of Arts. Science, and Literature. Vol. XII. Phila­ delphia: Samuel Bradford, 1803-19*

Sabbattini, Nicola. "Manual for Constructing Theatrical Scenes and Machines, 1638." Translated by John H. McDowell, in The Renaissance Stage. Florida: University of Miami Press, 1958* PP. 37-177.

The Theatrical Journal. 1840-41.

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Iba-Hoss.* 1825-43.

Varey, J. E. "Robertson*s Phantasmagoria in Madrid, 1821," Theatre Notebook. No. 9 (1954-55), PP* 89-95; No. 11 (1956^57). PP* 82-91.

Theses and Dissertations

Jackson, Allan S. "Production and Staging of the English Pantomime as Illustrated by Harlequin and the Red Dwarf: or, The Adamant Rock, Performed at Covent Garden, December 26, 1812." Unpublished Master* s thesis. The Ohio State University, 1858.

Morrow, John C. "The Staging of Pantomime at Sadler*s Wells Theatre, 1828-1860." Unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, The Ohio State University, 1963* Wickman, Richard C. "An Evaluation of the Employment of Panoramic Scenery in the Nineteenth Century Theatre." Unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, The Ohio State University, 1961. 254

Special Collections it- dippings and Documents: The British Museum Sadler*s Wells dippings and Document Collection, 1/30-1880, OSUTC Film No. 1448*„

Illustrations: The British Muse;j® Toy Theatre Print Collection. OSUTC Film No. 1461A*.

Illustrations: The Harvard University Library Nineteenth and Twentieth- Century London Theatre Iconography. OSUTC Film No. 1443*.

.Illustrations: Tho Victoria and Albert Museum Toy Theatre Print Collections® OSUTC Film Nos, 1111, 1329, 1714*, 1?15*. 1716*, , and 1717.

Playbills: The Public Finsbury Libraries Playbill Collection. OSUTC Film No. 1522B*.