This dissertation has been 64—7016 microfilmed exactly as received

GRESSMAN, Malcolm George, 1923- THE CAREER OF JOHN BALDWIN BUCKSTONE.

The Ohio State University, Ph.D., 1963 Speech—Theater

University Microfilms, Inc., Ann Arbor, Michigan THE CAREER OF JOHN BALDWIN BUCKS TONE

DISSERTATION

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

By

Malcolm George Gressman, B. A., A. M.

The Ohio State University 1963

Approved by

"1/ <^Adviser Department of Speech AC KNOWLEDGMENTS

This study was made possible chiefly by the excellent research resources of the Ohio State University Theatre Collec­ tion which is especially rich in microfilms of prompt books of the nineteenth century.

I am indebted to many individuals who helped me during the study and preparation of this dissertation. Most particularly

I should like to thank Dr. John H. McDowell, Professor of Speech and Director of the Ohio State University Theatre Collection, who proved to be a most helpful and encouraging adviser. His sugges­ tions for the organization and development of materials and his counsel and guidance throughout the study have been of great value.

I should also like to express my appreciation and thanks to Dr. Charles Ritter who served as a reader and provided much technical assistance.

Finally, I want to extend my grateful thanks to Dr. Roy H.

Bowen, Director of Theatre and chairman of my committee, and

Dr. Walter S. Dewey, both of whom served as readers and helpful advisers for this study. CONTENTS

Page

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS...... ii

FIGURES ...... viii

INTRODUCTION...... 1

General Purposes ...... 2

Importance and Significance of the S tudy ...... 3

The Form of the Study ...... 5

M a te ria ls ...... 5 M ethod ...... 5 Organization ...... 7 The limitations of the study ...... 8

General Staging Practices of the English S ta g e ...... 9

Chapter L THE THEATRE IN LONDON FROM 1800 TO 1850 . . 19

The State of the D ram a ...... 19

The Patent Theatres ...... 24

The Minor Theatres ...... 26

The Players of the Period ...... 30

The Audience R esponse ...... 32

II. BIOGRAPHY OF BUCKSTONE...... 37

Early Years (1802-1829)...... 38

iii C hapter Page

Middle Years (1830-1852)...... 49

Later Years (1853-1879)...... 62

HL AN ANALYSIS OF LUKE ’FEE LABOURER...... 78

The Story of the P la y ...... 78

Historical and Critical Comments ...... 81

The Significance of the P la y ...... 86

Aspects of Staging ...... 90

The nature and placement of scenery...... 90

Act I, Scene 1 ...... 91 Act I, Scene 2 ...... 94 Act I, Scene 3 ...... 96 Act I, Scene 4 ...... 97 Act I, Scene 5 ...... 99 Act H, Scene 1 ...... 101 Act H, Scene 2 ...... 103 Act H, Scene 3 ...... 103 Act H, Scene 4 ...... 105 Act H, Scene 5 ...... 105 Act H, Scene 6 ...... 105

Depths of scenes and types of alternations . . . 108

Lighting and special effects ...... 110

Conclusions...... I l l

IV. AN ANALYSIS OF THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST...... 113

History of the Play ...... 113

Story of the P l a y ...... 115

Aspects of Staging . „ ...... 118

iv Chapter Page

The nature and. placement of scenery ...... 118

Act I, Scene 1 ...... 119 Act I, Scene 2 ...... 119 Act I, Scene 3 ...... 121 Act I, Scene 4 ...... 122 Act II, Scene 1...... 123 Act n , Scene 2...... 125 Act n, Scene 3...... 125 Act II, Scene 4 ...... 126 Act n, Scene 5 ...... 127 Act II, Scene 6 . 127 Act n, Scene 7 ...... 128 Act m, Scene 1 ...... •. . . 129 Act IE, Scene 2 ...... 130 Act m, Scene 3 ...... 130 Act HE, Scene 4 . 130 Act m, Scene 5 ...... 131

Depths of scenes and types of alternations . . . 131

Lighting and special effects ...... 133

Music and sound ...... 134

Other cues ...... 135

Conclusions...... 136

V. ASPECTS OF BUCKSTONE'S STAGING OF TWELFTH NIGHT ...... 138

The nature and placement of scenery...... 138

Act I, Scene 1 ...... 139 Act I, Scene 2 ...... 139 Act I, Scene 3 ...... 143 Act I, Scene 4 ...... 144 Act I, Scene 5 . . «, ...... 144 . Act I, Scene 6 ...... 144 . Act H, Scene 1 ...... 145 Act H, Scene 2 • 145 Act II, Scene 3. . ’...... 148 v C hapter Page

Act 3H, Scene 1 ...... 149 Act m, Scene 2 . . . . 149 Act IH, Scene 3 ...... 151 Act in , Scene 4 ...... 151 Act IV, Scene 1 ...... 151 Act IV, Scene 2 ...... 152 Act IV, Scene 3 ...... 155 Act IV, Scene 4 ...... 155 Act V ...... 157

Depths of scenes and types of alternations . . . 160

Wings and borders ...... 160

Lighting and special effects ...... 161

Summary and conclusions...... 161

VL CONCLUSIONS AND EVALUATION ...... 163

Summary of Conclusions from the Prompt B o o k s ...... 163

The nature of the scenery ...... 164

The placement of scenery ...... 165

Types of alternations of scenes 165

Types of special effects ...... 166

The use of furniture ...... 166

Evaluation of Buckstone's Career...... 166

APPENDIXES...... 173

1 ...... 174

n...... 182

vi Page APPENDIXES

EX ...... 184

1 7 ...... 187

SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY...... 189

AUTOBIOGRAPHY...... 196

v i i FIGURES

Figure Page

1. A Typical Groove Plan of the English Stage ...... 13

2. Arrangement of Scenery for Three Scenes ...... 16

3. Placement of Flats and Wings for the First Two Scenes at the Start of the Play . . . . 92

4. Placement of Flats and Wings for Scene 2 and Scene 3 ...... 95

5. Placement of Flats and Wings for Scene 3 and Scene 4 ...... 98

6. Placement of Flats and Wings for Scene 4 and Scene 5 ...... 100

7. Two Possible Placements of Flats and Wings for Act II, Scene 1...... 102

8. Two Possible Placements of Flats and Wings for Act II, Scene 3...... 104

9. Placement of Flats and Wings for Act II, Scene 5 . . . 106

10. Placement of Flats and Wings for Act n, Scenes 5 and 6 ...... 107

11. Schematic Plan of Flats and Wings in the Staging of Luke the Labourer ...... 109

12. Placement of Flats and Wings for Act I of The Flowers of the Forest ...... '...... 120

13. Placement of Flats and Wings for Act II of The Flowers of the Forest...... 124

viii Figure Page

14. Placement of Flats and Wings for Act HE of The Flowers of the Forest ...... 129

15. Schematic Plan of Flats, Wings, and Drop Used in the Staging of The Flowers of the F o re st ...... 132

16. Placement of Flats and Wings for Act I of Twelfth Night ...... 140

17. Placement of Characters at the Beginning of Scene 2 of Act I of Twelfth Night ...... 142

18. Placement of Flats and Wings for Act II of Twelfth Night...... 146

19. Placement of Flats and Wings for Act m of Twelfth Night ...... 150

20. Placement of Flats and Wings for the First Three Scenes of Act IV of Twelfth Night ...... 153

21. Sketch of Setting for Act IV, Scene 4 of Twelfth N ight ...... 156

22. Placement of Flats and Wings for Act V of Twelfth N ight ...... 159

ix INTRODUCTION

John Baldwin Buck stone was a popular actor, playwright, and theatre manager in the nineteenth-century English theatre. He made a worthwhile contribution to the theatre through his combined efforts as performer, writer, and administrator. Yet today, very few people know who he was.

Not only is Bucks tone relatively unknown, but few people today know much about the nineteenth-century English drama because it is a period which histories of the theatre treat rather sketchily. Many plays of the period which were famous in their day are now shunned or dismissed with an apology by students of litera-

1 ture of the period. This period of English theatre, often referred

lErnestB. Watson, Sheridan to Robertson: A Study of the Nineteenth-Century London Stage (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1926), p. vii.

to as a transitional period, is so full of activity that most scholars

of the era have tried to read discriminatingly and to become familiar with a sufficiently large amount of representative material to render

their conclusions. However, many of them hit the high spots only.

1 No other period in English theatre history illustrates so clearly the fact that a play exists fully only in performance. 2 if the plays were

^George Rowell, The Victorian Theatre: A Survey (London: Oxford University Press, 1956), p. 2. so bad, as some literary scholars claim, why did people go to see them? What were the plays like, anyway? If Bucks tone was a successful theatre man for so long, his plays, performances, and theatre management must have been representative of what the theatre at that time had to offer. What would a study of his plays reveal about the staging, acting, and prompting methods of his period of the nineteenth-century? Interest in the answers to the above questions was the stimulus which led to the undertaking of the present study.

General Purposes

It was the purpose of this study to (1) investigate conditions existing in the first half of the nineteenth-century English theatre and present a brief history of the theatre in London from 1800 to

1850; (2) discover the nature of Buckstone's contributions to the theatre as an actor, playwright, and as a theatre manager; (3) study and analyze a selected group of prompt books and acting editions of

Bucks tone's plays, seeking to discover significant data about staging 3

practices, special effects, and prompting procedures; and (4) sum­

marize the findings and evaluate the theatrical contributions of

Bucks tone.

Importance and Significance of the Study-

After a cursory examination of the evidence available, it was

this w riter's opinion that Buckstone had made a significant contribu­

tion to the nineteenth-century theatre sufficient to warrant intensive

study. Yet no book has been devoted in its entirety to Buckstone or

any phase of his theatrical contribution. No thesis or dissertation

has dealt with either his life, his plays, or contributions in general. 3

^Richard Lee Kirschner's "A Production and Production Book of George Buchner's Wossech and John B. Buckstone's Popping the Question" (unpublished M. F.A. thesis, University of Texas, 1953) was a production thesis which included one of his plays.

Here is a man who spent fifty-six of his seventy-seven years in

active theatre participation. He started acting professionally at

nineteen years of age. His first play was given a professional

performance when he was only twenty-three. The next fifty-three

years of his life were spent as an actor, playwright, and theatre

manager. He has been listed as a successful actor who supported

the "stars" of the period. He wrote between one hundred and two hundred plays. Several scholars agree that he did not have a single failure and had many very successful plays.

Buckstone was very well known in theatre circles. He was a favorite with Queen Victoria both as an actor and as a theatre manager. His twenty-three year reign as manager of the Haymarket are without doubt significant and important. Maude states in his book The Haymarket Theatre " Buckstone's management of the

Haymarket Theatre is, perhaps, the most famous of them all.

4 C y r i l Maude, The Haymarket Theatre (London: Grant Richards, 1903), p. 135.

Although Buckstone's plays may not have much literary value, according to today's standards, they were produced successfully and some were favorites for twenty-five or thirty years. It may be true that Buckstone's acting was not outstanding, since he is not remembered as a "star" of the period. Yet, he was well known and was quite popular as a low comedy player. Buckstone and his plays were successful and were playing to full theatres at a time when the legitimate drama was in a serious decline. His contributions epitomize a certain type of drama which was having its "heyday" in the middle of the nineteenth-century. Therefore, a study of this man and his works should be worthwhile and significant. The Form of the Study

The form of the study was determined principally by the type of materials that were used, by the limitations imposed by those materials and by the aims of the study itself.

M aterials. —This study was facilitated by scripts in the library at the Ohio State University and microfilmed reprints of

Buckstone acting editions and prompt books in the Ohio State Uni­ versity Theatre Collection. Materials for the major part of the study consisted of microfilm reproductions of one hundred and two prompt books of Buckstone's plays. In addition, the Theatre Col­ lection has twenty-five acting editions of Buckstone's plays on film while the library contains nineteen acting editions of Buckstone's scrip ts.

Method. —Underlying the method of the study were two basic assumptions with regard to the reliability of the prompt book materials. These assumptions were as follows:

1. It was assumed that the notations made in the prompt

books by the prompters were accurate, and that they

faithfully reflect those aspects of the productions with

which they are concerned.

2. It was assumed in the case of a few plays that the

playwright's descriptions were reliable as evidence regarding staging. This assumption was made only

in those cases in which parts of the description were

underlined by the prompter signifying that these were

used in the production, or where by deleting a part of

the description the prompter indicated that the

remainder was applicable.

Once these assumptions were established and applied, the prompt books were carefully analyzed to extract either direct or indirect evidence regarding scenic elements. Direct evidence was that specifically noted by the prompter, as for example, a note reading: "Moonlight landscape—5th Groove, " which definitely indicates both the nature of the scenery and where it was placed on the stage. Indirect evidence was that gathered by the interpretation of the implications of directions not specifically concerned with scenery. For example, a prompter‘s note indicating that a charac­ ter was to enter in the second entrance on stage right or left was taken as evidence that the back scene was upstage of that entrance position. If the notes indicated that a character was to be discovered, it was assumed that the preceding scene was placed downstage of the scene in question, otherwise a discovery would not have been possible except, of course, in the opening scene of an act. When the analyses of the prompt books were completed and the results interpreted, it became possible to synthesize the results in an effort to obtain a generalized picture of the nature of scenery most often used, the types of scenic alternations that were custo­ mary, and the depth of stage areas exposed to view.

During the analyses, notes were taken on the types of stage effects employed, the manner in which they were executed (if known), the number of occasions on which they were used, and the extent to which they fulfilled the script requirements.

Organization. —Since such a large body of material was involved in the preliminary analysis, the method of reporting the research became a problem. It was decided to report in detail the analyses of three prompt books: two that would be representative of

Buckstone, the playwright, and one in which Buckstone was the prompter. The two prompt books of Buckstone's plays selected for

this study were Luke the Labourer and The Flowers of the Forest.

Both scripts were selected, first, because they were two of the richest scripts of the Buckstone collection. Second, they were a

good representation of Buckstone's dramaturgy; the former script was not only one of Buckstone's earlier plays but one of his most

significant contributions to dramatic literature as well, while The

Flowers of the Forest, on the other hand, was one of Buckstone's 8

later plays and was likewise considered one of his best works. 5 The

5See Chapter in for the significance and importance of Luke the Labourer.

third prompt book selected for analysis was for a Buckstone produc­

tion of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. It was selected because of the

richness and completeness of its prompt notes.

Chapter I of this study contains a brief history of the theatrical

situation in England for the first half of the nineteenth century.

Chapter H is a biographical account of Buckstone’s career as actor, playwright, and theatre manager. The reports of the analyses of the

three productions discussed above constitute three major chapters

OH, IV, and V). The last chapter (VI) presents conclusions deriving

from the study.

Pictorial materials were included in the text wherever it was

felt their additions would significantly clarify the textual discussion.

The majority of these are schematic plans showing the position of

scenic elements on the stage in the three productions.

The limitations of the study. - -Two limitations were imposed

upon the study. These limitations, which evolved from the prompt

books, were as follows:

1. Interpretations were restricted as much as possible

to the prompt books themselves. Occasionally an 9

interpretation was based upon evidence drawn from

other sources, but the intention was to confine the

analyses largely to the prompt books and acting

edition scripts.

2. The analyses were not concerned with aspects of

acting, except where stage positions of performers

were indicative of the nature or placement of scenery.

General Staging Practices of the English Stage

Since the analyses of the three plays cited above were made in the light of the general staging practices of the period, a brief description of some of the physical characteristics of the English

stage and a definition of some of the staging terms and equipment as

they apply to these three productions is in order. 6

^The primary source for the following discussion concerning the characteristics of the English stage was Walter Adelsperger's unpublished doctoral dissertation, "Aspects of Staging of Plays of the Gothic Revival in England, " chap. I, pp. 18-58.

The stage floor: The stage floor was constructed of

wood and built in a gentle slope or rake up from front

to back, pierced with several apertures, and furnished

with various items of standard equipment. 10

2. The grooves: The grooves were groups of channels

running horizontally both on the stage floor and in

the flies above it. They were used to guide and

support large pieces of scenery called flats and

smaller pieces called wings. Each set of grooves

for flats contained about four individual channels

and each set of grooves for wings contained three

channels.

3. The flat: The flat was a large painted cloth or

canvas framed in for rigidity much as modern flats

are framed. It was most often used in combination

with another flat of equal size. The pair was large

enough to extend all the way across the visible part

of the stage and served to terminate the scene. Flats

could be framed so as to include practicable doors

and windows.

4- The drop: The drop was an unbroken area of painted

canvas. It was not framed and was lowered from

above by rollers. The act drop was one which was

placed behind the front curtain and was dropped at

the end of each act in many of the theatres. 11

5. The wings: The wing, like a flat, was made of framed

canvas and painted. They stood at the sides of the

stage to serve as masking pieces and to complete the

"surround" of the scenery. Wings were much narrower

than flats but were the same height as the flats with

which they were used.

6. Stock scenery: In the nineteenth century, plays were

rarely mounted in entirely new scenery. Each theatre

owned a supply of flats, wings, and other pieces

representing various types of interiors and exteriors.

These items of theatres' supplies were called stock

scenery. Audiences usually accepted the same back­

grounds in many different plays as long as the backgrounds

were appropriate.

7. Set pieces: Set pieces were any item of scenery,

usually three-dimensional, that was free-standing

within the acting area. Such items as practical tomb­

stones and free-standing doorways, if separate from

the flats or wings, were considered to be set pieces.

8. Carpenters' scenes: Scenes which were played down­

stage in the first or second groove in order to mask

the setting up of a setting with set pieces or massive 12

props were called carpenters’ scenes because they

gave the stage carpenters a chance to ready the next

scene further upstage.

The evidence from prompt books suggests that stages of about

1800 usually contained about four sets of grooves, whereas stages built after mid-century contained six or seven. Until such times as

theatrical staging involved the use of a great many set pieces, deep

stages were not necessary for most English productions. The

concept of shallowness and flatness in productions held on long

after deeper stages were actually necessary to accommodate the

complex settings of later productions. As late as 1871 we find the

following comment with regard to stage dimensions:

The stage of a theatre should be wide and high; it is not necessary that it should be deep . . . depths and distances may easily be imitated within comparatively shallow limits by skilful [did perspective and a gradual diminution in the proportion of the objects represented. ?

^"Theatrical Architecture and Stage Mechanics, " The Athenaeum, Vol. CXXXTI, No. 2344 (Oct. 7, 1871), p. 473.

Figure 1 shows a typical arrangement of grooves for flats and

wings on the English stage floor. The flat grooves are A, C, E, and

G while the wing grooves are B, D, F, and H. The downstage set

(G) was referred to as "the first grooves, " the next set (E) as "the

second grooves, " the next set (C) as "the third grooves, " and so on 13

B

C

D

E

G

H

Proscenium Arch Right Left

Fig. 1. —A Typical Groove Plan of the English Stage. through the next set. The wing grooves were labeled "first, "

"second, " "third, 11 etc. , similar to the flat grooves. The intervals between the wings were labeled "first entrance, " "second entrance, " etc. , through as many entrances as the sets of wings provided; for example, in a play script the farthest downstage entrance on the right was referred to as "Right First Entrance, " or, abbreviated, as "R. 1 E. " The uppermost entrance was often referred to as

"Right Upper Entrance, " or "R. U. E. " Entrances on stage left were treated the same.

Figure 1 also shows that sixteen pairs of flats, four each in

A, C, E, and G, could be mounted in the grooves of an average theatre at one time. Those in any given set of grooves nested together somewhat like cards in a deck of cards, so that sliding the front flat in the first channel off stage would reveal the second flat; if this in turn were removed, the third flat or scene would be revealed, and so on.

With only three wing groove positions in each set, it is obvious that not nearly so many different wings could be used as flats unless they were changed during performance. The scarcity of wing grooves (basically three, serving sixteen sets of flats) did not, however, impose restrictions on staging, for the wings were not individualized as were the flats. A set of formal interior wings 15 could be and was used with many different pairs of flats repre­

senting formal interiors. As a result, scenic stock contained far fewer wings than flats.

The grooves for flats and wings were employed in the basic

method of scene shifting. Before the beginning of the play, all of

the backgrounds that were composed of flats were placed in

appropriate grooves on the stage. Those flats that were required

to close over preceding scenes were, of course, generally placed

in downstage positions, whereas the flats associated with the long

scenes and those for settings embellished with additional elements,

such as set pieces, were usually placed in grooves farther upstage.

Wings appropriate to the various sets of flats were placed in the

wing grooves, the farthest downstage groove of each set of grooves

holding wings associated with the second scene and so on. Wings,

being very narrow, were easy to handle and could be withdrawn from

the grooves to make room for others in productions requiring more

than three sets of wings.

Later, in Chapters EH, IV, and V, we shall see where flats

and wings were located for specific productions, as deduced from

evidence in the prompt books. However, in order to achieve a

visualization of the workings of flats and wings, let us look at

Figure 2 which shows an arrangement of scenery for three scenes 16

Fig. 2. —Arrangement of Scenery for Three Scenes. 17 of a hypothetical production. Assuming that the first scene (A) is a deep one, Figure 2 shows the probable location of the flats for the scene in the fourth grooves. Complementing these flats are appropriate wings (A^) placed in the first channel of each set of wing grooves. One must remember that while this scene played, the flats of the second and third scenes Q3 and C) were withdrawn to the sides so as not to mask: the view of the flats (A) at the back.

A t the end of scene (A), the following action occurred. Two stagehands, one on each side of the stage, pushed on the flats (C) for the second scene. These came into view along the line (C^).

While these flats were being pushed on, two more stagehands pulled off the wings (A^) of the first scene, thereby revealing the wings

(Cl) of the second scene. Obviously, the entire shift could be accomplished in a matter of seconds.

During the playing of the second scene, certain backstage activity occurred to ready the stage for the third scene. Stagehands pushed on the flats (B) along the line (B^). Other stagehands drew off the wings (A^) fro m the second grooves position. Then, at the conclusion of the second scene (which was playing while all of this activity occurred), the flats at (C) and the wings at(Cl) were with­ drawn to reveal the third scene in its entirety (B and B^). The ease of these manipulations makes it clear that the various scenes of the play could succeed one another without any delay whatsoever as long as the scenery was confined principally to flat elements as shown in Figure 2. The system of scene shifting also made it possible for playwrights to include a number of different scenes in their dramas because no tiresome waits for scene shifting were involved. This convention of changing the

scenery in plain view of the audience was in vogue in England for about two hundred years prior to this period under study. The

many grooves, providing space for many different back scenes,

existed, of course, as a means of accomplishing rapid visible

shifts. CHAPTER I

THE THEATRE IN LONDON FROM 1800 TO 1850

In order to provide the proper background for this study of

Buckstone, it is necessary to review the London theatrical scene of the first half of the nineteenth century. A brief survey will establish the general conditions of the London stage and the kind of theatrical activity which prevailed before and during Buckstone*s emergence as an actor, playwright, and theatre manager. This survey has been divided into the foHowing general areas: (1) The

State of the Drama, (2) The Patent Theatres, (3) The Minor

Theatres, (4) The Players of the Period, and (5) The Audience

R esponse.

/ The State of the Drama

There can be no doubt that the drama in England emerging

from the Georgian era of the eighteenth century into the transitional

period of the nineteenth century was at a low ebb. Scholars agree

that from a literary point of view, good plays were not written. The

public taste ran to the morbid, the sensational, or the novel. In

19 20 reflecting on conditions of the drama, William Archer called the period from 1810 to 1835 "the very barrenest in the history of the

English drama. "1 New plays which could hold the boards for twenty

^William Archer, The Old Drama and the New (Boston: Small, 1923), p. 244. or thirty performances were considered highly successful, and translations from the German of such gloomy melodramas as The

Iron Chest or The Stranger with John Phillip Kemble in the leading roles had a great success. 2

^Percy Fitzgerald, A History of the English Stage (London: Tinsley Brothers, 1882), II, 350-351.

The constant demand for new pieces resulted in hundreds of plays being written and sold outright to managers for prices ranging anywhere from three to thirty pounds each. Most of the plays found their way into the minor theatres, which were doing a flourishing business with these transpontine examples of romantic and nautical dramas. This type of work had not much lasting success with the possible exception of Jerrold^ Black-Eyed Susan which was occa­ sionally revived after its production at the Surrey Theatre in 1829. 2

^Archer, gp. cit., p. 246. Buckstone was the original G natbrain in this 1829 production. 21

Most of the plays written for the patent theatres during this period brought a better return to the dramatists. A five-act drama might bring two hundred to four hundred pounds. Even at the patent houses, however, the demand was brisk for afterpieces and musicals. Since these were easier to produce than the longer plays, more authors turned to them. The writing of higher forms of drama was thus retarded. As the quality of the work decreased,

the prices for plays came down and the playwrights resorted to more and more hack writing. Nicoll cites other factors which provided a restraint against the dramatists. He lists the "coarse­ ness of the audience, the vagaries of the actor-manager, the pruriency of the censor, the activities of the 'pirate, ' and the niggardliness of the publisher.

4Allardyce Nicoll, A History of English Drama, 1660-1900 (2nd ed. ; Cambridge: University Press, 1955), IV, 57.

With the peculiar advantage of hindsight which a study of

history affords, it is easy to see that the dramatists of the early nineteenth century were not writing for posterity. In their defense

it must be said that this is essentially true for any age. A

dramatist writes primarily for the theatre of his own time. He

is governed to a large extent by the very measures which hinder

his complete expression. In a hard-headed sense, if he is to 22 survive by his own efforts he must write what will sell. If he has true genius for the stage, his work will survive. No dramatist of this period displayed such genius. The great poets of the day,

Byron, Shelley, and Keats, refused to consider the theatre. The plays of Coleridge, Browning, and Wadsworth are not remembered today and were not successful in the nineteenth-century theatre. 5

5Ibid. , p. 60.

Their failures were due to a great extent, as Nicoll suggests, to the refusal on the part of their authors to accept the theatrical conditions of their time and adapt their writing to them.

Sheridan Knowles, who produced twenty-three plays between

1810 and 1850, was recognized as the leading playwright of the period. None of his plays are remembered today. Other dramatists who aspired to write a higher type of drama were

Richard Lalor Sneil,who saw seven plays in production from 1814 to 1822, and Sir Edward Bulwer-Lytton, whose earlier plays were produced at Covent Garden and Drury Lane by Macready. The almost overwhelming amount of writing which was done for the minor theatres is best illustrated by the work of Charles Dibden,

John Dibden, Reynolds, Cherry, Planche^ Fitzball, Coleman, and 23

Buckstone. These authors represented a combined total of almost

1,000 plays and entertainments.

Archer was emphatic in closing his remarks concerning the first half of the nineteenth century with the statement, "We have been watching the gradual decline of English drama into something very like inanition and imbecility.

^Archer, op. cit., p. 252.

William Hazlitt, who was the foremost of dramatic critics of the earlier years of the nineteenth century, was more concerned with performance than specific comment upon the state of the drama. Many times in his criticisms of the players he offered comments on the plays. In reviewing the tragedy of Bertram by

R. C. Maturin as produced at Drury Lane on May 19, 1816, Hazlitt stated:

The general fault of this tragedy, and of other modern tragedies that we could mention, is, that it is a tragedy without business . . . there is neither cause nor effect . . . as the opera is filled with a sort of singing people, who translate everything into music, the modern drama is filled with poets and their mistresses, who translate everything into metaphor and sentiment. . . . 7

7The Examiner. XIX, No. 438 (May 19, 1816), 313. 24

The state of drama in England prior to the Act of 1843 which settled the feud between the patent and minor theatres was a pitiful one. Naturally, the condition of the drama was reflected in the operation of the theatres. Perhaps we should next examine the conditions which existed at the patent theatres which were con­ sidered the major playhouses of London.

The Patent Theatres

The history of Drury Lane and Covent Garden in the early nineteenth century reflects the bitter struggle between the major and minor playhouses. The patent theatres still reserved the right to be the only playhouses in London to present spoken drama.

They were large structures, accommodating about three thousand persons each. They had the advantage of a long and glorious theatrical tradition behind them, but they had also to attempt to meet the rising challenge of the minor theatres. The fact that an actor was not considered to have "arrived” until he performed at the "majors” was not in itself sufficient to justify their existence.

The patent houses had to meet the competition offered by the minor theatres, whose operating costs were much lower. Unless the patent houses drew good sized crowds they could not realize a profit. The managers had to provide "star" attractions or lose 25 their audiences to Sadlers* Wells or Astley*s or to the other houses which were increasing in number.

The patent houses fared badly throughout the first fifty years of the nineteenth century. The theatres were too large to accom­ modate the new acting style which was increasingly in vogue.

Audiences were demanding a more realistic type of playing, and in order to appeal to the audience, everything at the larger theatres had to be broadened. Both houses saw a succession of managers whose efforts were not rewarded. Failure followed failure until

Covent Garden abandoned the spoken drama altogether and turned to the opera.

In commenting briefly on the history of the two patent houses it is only fitting that equal mention be made of the Haymarket

Theatre. This theatre regularly presented legitimate drama during the summer season when the patent theatres were closed.

It was regarded as a major theatre. Fitzgerald relates:

. . . at the beginning of the century the patents were still sufficiently protected, and the only theatres which were tolerated (excluding, of course, the Hay­ market, which ranked with the grand houses) were the Circus, Astley's Amphitheatre, and the Royalty. 8

^Fitzgerald, jup. cit. , p. 398.

The new Haymarket Theatre was finished in 1820, the old one or

"Little Theatre" being razed to provide the space for its erection. 26

It was called at that time "the most elegant theatre in London, " and it held a house figured at three thousand. ^

^Cyril Maude, The Haymarket Theatre (London: Grant Richards, 1903), pp. 65-66.

Activity at the Haymarket during the first half of the nineteenth century followed the pattern set by the patent houses. More use was made of lighter entertainments and melodramas to insure financial success. The Haymarket secured a record run with Pooles' three- act comedy, Paul Pry, in 1825. It ran for one hundred and fourteen performances.

The rivalry between managers at the various theatres was very bitter. If they could find out what a competitor was planning to offer in the way of a new play, they would do their best to bring a similar work out first. It is known that managers hired "party- men" to cry down rivals' efforts on opening nights.

The Minor Theatres

At the beginning of the nineteenth century, there were only nine theatres regularly offering entertainment to the London public. ^

l^NicoH, op. cit., p. 222. 27

Besides the patent houses there were the following theatres: the

Haymarket, the Theatre Royal, Sadler's Wells, The Royal

Amphitheatre, the Royal Circus, The Royalty, and the Sans Souci.

By 1850, the number of theatres had grown to over eighty.

It must be remembered that private theatres also saw the produc­ tion of dramatic pieces. The poor state of the drama reflects the type of work that was popularized at these minor theatres. Farces and melodramas, many interspersed with song, were the favorites of the day. The rise of the minor theatres was largely responsible for the emancipation of the stage. The managers at the patent houses complained bitterly about the new type of drama being presented at the minor theatres, but they did not hesitate to use this type of drama themselves, and the managers at the lesser houses were quick to point this out. The Lord Chamberlain had granted special "licenses" to several of the minor theatres. In

1809, he granted a license for what was called "Summer English

Opera" and promised to grant yet another. Astley obtained a license in 1812 which aided the minor theatres' cause and further enfeebled the patents granted to Drury Lane and Covent Garden.

^Fitzgerald, op,, cit., p. 399. 28

The license granted to Astley read as follows:

I do hereby give leave and license unto Philip Astley, Esq., to have performed, for his benefit, at the Olympic and musical pavilion in Newcastle Street, in the Strand, within the liberties of West­ minster, the entertainments of music, dancing, burlettas, spectacles, pantomimes, and horseman­ ship, for one year from the 5th day of July, 1812, to the 5th day of July, 1813. Given under my hand and seal this 1st day of July, 1812, in the fifty- second year of His Majesty's reign. 12

12ibid.

The lessees and managers in the patent houses finally banded together in 1818 to appeal to Lord Hertford to interpose and with­ draw the licenses he had granted to the Olympic and the Sans

Pareil Theatres. Some of the reasons they listed in their appeal reveal the extent to which the influence of the minor theatres was being felt:

The Olympic and Sans Pareil have become theatres for the nightly performance of the regular drama—the memorialists, with all of the respectable persons involved in the interests of Drury Lane and Covent Garden Theatres, must suffer "certain ruin" if the Olympic and Sans Pareil Theatres be continued—on the faith of a continuance of the entire monopoly of theatrical entertainment (as such appears to be the meaning attempted to be annexed to the words "patent rights"), "a million of money has of late years been embarked" in Drury Lane and Covent Garden Theatres, "for the support of the national drama"--The patent rights of Drury Lane and Covent Garden Theatres 29

have been "swept away" and "shaken to the foundation", by the authority of the Lord Chamberlain, and the grant of the Lord Chamberlain’s Licenses. 13

13|bid., pp. 400-401.

The complaint goes on to specify that the minor theatres were taking in an average of one hundred and fifty pounds a night and that pieces such as The Dr aeon of Wantley; Midas, the Golden

Puppin; and Poor Vulcan were true burletta forms and were totally different from the pieces acted at the Olympic and Sans Pareil

Theatres. The patent theatres were suffering, and more of the leading actors and actresses were making regular appearances at the minor houses which caused still more consternation at the legitimate theatres.

No attempt is made here at an intensive examination of the minor theatres. Many of the minor theatres (such as the East

London, the Albion, and the Globe) had erratic histories of several years and were abandoned, converted to other uses, or destroyed.

The Sans Pareil, later renamed the Adelphi, and theatres like it, however, were important because the work of the minors was a part of the transition from the conventional theatre of the eighteenth century to the modern playhouse of today. Besides the Sans Pareil and the Olympic, other important minor theatres were: the New 30

City Theatre, the Lyceum, the Royal Pavilion, the Royal Victoria

Theatre (later to become the "Old Vic"), Sadler's Wells, the Strand

Theatre, and the Surrey.

The minors gave much zest to the theatrical scene and provided the common meeting ground for the changes in theatre.

The smaller, more intimate houses directly affected the acting style of the period. The movement toward realistic acting had its crude beginnings in the minor theatres. The work of the scene painter and the stage carpenter became almost as important as that of the playwrights. Technical innovations with the exception of electric lighting found their proving ground in the early and mid­ nineteenth century. The minor theatres of London helped establish some of the stage conventions for what is now considered modem.

The Players of the Period

Perhaps the most important reflection gleaned from a study of this period is the thought that regardless of other conditions, acting was at a high level. Contemporary tragedy left actors no

choice "but to be magnificent if they were not to be laughed off the

boards. One cannot judge whether or not the acting of those

l^William Bridges-A dams, The British Theatre (London: Longmans Green and Company, Ltd., 1944), p. 25. 31 days would be what we consider good today. There can be no doubt that the actors were able to evoke a terrific response fro in their audiences.

It is interesting to relate Buckstone *s career (which will be discussed in the next chapter) to the names of the great and near­ great actors who kept the theatre alive during a period of general decline in the drama. Writing for The Examiner in April, 1828,

Hazlitt remembered the great stars he saw perform earlier in the period. He cited Mrs. Siddons, Kemble, Bannister, Suett, Munden,

Grimaldi, Lewis, Liston, Elies ton, Palmer, Dignum, King, Miss

Pope, Mrs. Goodall, Mrs. Jordan, Matthews, Miss Kelly, Miss

O'Neil, and Kean. He prefaced his recollections of these great ones

by commenting on contemporary performances of Madam Vestris

and John Reeve and followed them by saying:

What a host of names and recollections is here* How many more are omitted, names that have embodied famous poets' verse and been the "fancy's midwife, " that have gladdened a nation and made life worth living for, that have made the world pass in review as a gaudy pageant, and set before us in a waking dream the bodily shapes and circumstances of all that is most precious in joy or m sorrow . 1b

15The Examiner, XXI, No. 1056 (Apr. 27, 1828), 276.

To Hazlitt’s list the following names should certainly be added:

Young, Dawton, Terry, Mrs. Glover, Macready, Farren, 32

Vandenhoff, Charles and Ellen Kean, and Phelps. Buckstone performed with most of the performers on this list and was equally successful. The list could doubtless be extended, but we have merely attempted to list those names which are commonly accounted the finest actors of the period. In tragedy, Kean, Mrs.

Siddons, and Miss O'Neil should probably be placed at the top of the list, ha comedy, the honors should go to Liston and Lewis.

The A udience Response

Most scholars agree that the audience of this period was a vulgar and unruly mob. True, there were fastidious and decent people who enjoyed the drama, particularly at the larger houses, but on the whole the audiences were a rough lot. The O. P. (old prices) Riots of 1809 were very disastrous and reflected the ugly mood of the mob audience. Nicoll relates:

AIL contemporaries are agreed on one thing; the spectators in the larger theatres during the first decades of the century were often licentious and debased, while those in the minor playhouses were vulgar, unruly, and physically obnoxious. 16

16Nicoll, op., cit. , p. 8.

The "Tailors Riot" at the Haymarket on August 15, 1805, marred the benefit of the actor Downton. He had announced that 33

he would do Foote's adaptation of Coleman's play, The Tailors; or

A Tragedy for Warm Weather. The tailors, who resented the burlesque, notified Downton that if he went on in that play there would be trouble. He insisted on doing the benefit; and when he appeared on the stage, a pair of shears was thrown at him and

could easily have hilled him. The incident so infuriated Downton

that he promptly called out that he would pay twenty pounds for the

capture of the man who threw the shears. This touched off the riot

which was not quelled until some dragoons from the Horse Guards

arrived to help the police break up the mob.

l^M aude, o£. c i t ., p. 57.

The audience, on the whole, was a lower class than that which

had frequented the large theatres prior to the rise of the minor

theatres. The little theatres were patronized by the lowest

elements of society. In the minor theatres the audience needed no

excuse to touch off an incident. Although their manners gradually

improved as did their taste, yet in 1820 Hazlitt described an

occasion which thoroughly disgusted him. The theatre where the

incident occurred was the Coburg. This theatre was noted for its

startling melodrama. In this case, however, it was not the play

about which the critic complained. 34

The play was indifferent, but that was nothing. The acting was bad but that was nothing. The audience were low, but that was nothing. It was the heartless indifference and hearty contempt shown by the performers for their parts, and by the audience for the players and the play, that disgusted us with all of them. Instead of the rude, naked, undisguised expression of curiosity and wonder, of overflowing vanity and unbridled egotism, there was nothing but an exhibition of the most petulant cockneyism and vulgar slang. AH of our former notions and theories were turned topsy turvey. The genius of St. Georges Fields prevailed, and you felt yourself in a bride well, 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. The object was not to admire or excel, but to vilify and degrade everything. The audience 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, nicknamed, pelted them with oranges and witticisms, to show their unruly con­ tempt for them and their art; while the performers, to be even with the audience, evidently slurred 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. 18

l ^The London Magazine, I, No. 3 (March, 1820), 301.

It is interesting to note that, although the drama was under strict censorship in accord with the moral sentiment of the times, there was no restraint on the audience. Prince Puckler-Muskau, a German nobleman, paid extensive visits to London between 1826 and 1829. He loved the theatre and wrote accounts of his 35 impressions in the form of letters. Dent gives the following observation from the Prince:

The most striking thing to a foreigner in English theatres is the unheard-of coarseness and brutality of the audiences. The consequence of this is that the higher and more civilized classes go only to the Italian Opera, and very rarely visit their national theatre.

In the theatres it is often difficult to keep off these repulsive beings—(here the Prince is referring to the loose women who worked the theatres) especially when they are drunk, which is not seldom the case—and these are the scenes which are exhibited in the national theatre of England where immortal artists like Garrick, Mrs. Siddons, Miss 0 ‘Neil, have enraptured the public by their genius, and where such actors as Kean, Kemble, and Young still adorn the stage. The turbulent scenes I have described above scarcely ever arise out of any­ thing connected with the performance, but have almost always some source quite foreign to it, and no way relating to the stage. 19

19e. J. Dent, A Theatre for Everybody (London: T. V. Boaxdman andCo., Ltd., 1945), pp. 17-18.

There can be no question that the audiences were vulgar and

unrefined. However, the continued fight for the overthrow of the

theatre monopoly inherent in the patent rights granted to Covent

Garden and Drury Lane was to play an important part in raising the

level of audience appreciation. After the passage of the Act of 1843

the audiences accepted the legitimate drama and were less coarse

and obnoxious in their behavior because the patent theatres were 36 presenting similar pieces as the minor theatres. The patent

theatres were forced to lower their prices and their artistic standard to meet the competition of the minor theatres.

The first half of the nineteenth century, which comprises

the background of this present study, was a turbulent one. The low state of the drama, the conflict between the major and minor

theatres which culminated in the Act of 1843, the emphasis on

novelty and spectacle and changes in styles of acting were all

factors which help mark the period as one of transition. John

Baldwin Buckstone, playwright, actor, and theatre manager, was

one of several who helped solidify these elements of transition

and establish them more firmly. CHAPTER H

BIOGRAPHY OF BUCKSTONE

The purpose of this biography is to trace the events and influences of Buckstone’s life which led to his theatrical career as an actor, playwright, and theatre manager. For obvious reasons, no attempt is made to cite all of his performances as an actor, or to analyze and criticize all of his dramatic works as a playwright. Also, it is not the purpose to make a detailed study of his contribution as a theatre manager of the Haymarket, as this could be a separate study in itself. This chapter is primarily concerned with reporting those facts which will give

the reader the important background and biographical information for an appreciation of Buckstone and his contributions to the theatre in general.

For the sake of clarity and ease in handling the material,

this chapter is divided on the basis of three periods in Buckstone's career. The first section covers the years 1802-1829, and includes early biographical data and influences and his first attempts at writing and acting as an amateur and then as a professional. The

37 second division (1830-1852) marks the height of Buckstone's career both as an actor and playwright. The discussion of this twenty-two-year period includes the significant plays and roles in which he performed as well as the important dramas he wrote.

The third section (1853-1879) is a brief account of his twenty- three-year reign as manager of the Haymarket Theatre and of the years leading to his retirement and death.

Early Years (1802-1829)

John Baldwin Buckstone was born on September 18, 1802, at Hoxton on the east side of London. At the tender age of eleven, for some unknown reason, he was placed on a man-of-war and sent to sea. However, through the aid of a relative who objected to his being subjected to such a strenuous career at so young an age, he was returned to school. After completing his education at a suburban academy in the vicinity of Walworth, he was placed in a solicitor's office and at first demonstrated an inclination to follow the law as a profession. He became interested in dramatic literature while studying in this solicitor's office because on an under shelf were the plays of Shakespeare, Ben Jonson, and

Beaumont and Fletcher. Consequently Shakespeare was more often on his desk than "Impey's Practice and Beaumont and Fletcher 39 much more agreeable than Blackstone's Commentaries. While

^Actors by Daylight, and Pencilinqs in the Pit, I, No. 13 (May 26, 1838), 98. trying to study law, Buckstone's love for the theatre and dramatic writing grew rapidly. When scarcely seventeen, he had already written two five-act tragedies and a comedy. It appears that he sent the manuscript for one of the tragedies to The Theatrical

Inquisitor, a periodical of the era which reviewed and criticized new works of dramatic literature giving an analysis and opinion.

The Theatrical Inquisitor of May, 1820, acknowledged receipt of

Buckstone's manuscript and promised prompt consideration. How­ ever, it was five months later that the critical review appeared.

The October issue featured a review of Buckstone's five-act tragedy,

The Florentine Bride. The critic was quite frank and quick to point out that the young playwright's work had none of the requisites of tragedy and did not always "possess correctness in prosodacial, or even grammatical construction. Yet the critic felt the play was

2 The Theatrical Inquisitor, XVII (Oct., 1820), 278. not destitute of merit and felt disposed to analyze it for the purpose of encouraging the talents and correcting the defects of the author.

The reviewer liked the "simplicity of the story" and the "very 40 pretty thoughts and sentiments conveyed in smooth and harmonious fgicjjversification. The c ritic fu rth er explained:

3Ibid.

To flatter a young writer on his outset in the dramatic career, is not less detrimental than too harshly to repress him; we have therefore freely stated our objections bo this play, which we would recommend it to our author to endeavor bo obviate in his next attempt. ^

4lbid.

The review concluded with a brief sketch of the story and eight pages of eleven quotes of the "happiest” specimens of the poetry.

By now, Buckstone was incurably infected with the dramatic mania and became a stage-struck lawyer's clerk. Whether bis love of dramatic writing caused in him a love for acting, or vice versa, is unknown, but at eighteen years of age he made his first appearance on the stage. Having been acquainted with a Mr.

Burroughs, of the Rural Peckham Theatre, he was cast as Captain

Aubri in a melodrama entitled The Dog of Montarqis. Soon after, he appeared as Iago, bo the Othello of the then-celebrated amateur,

Mr. Richard Younge, at the Minor Theatre, Catherine Street.

Buckstone soon found tragedy was not his forte. Then, in con­ junction with other youthful aspirants for dramatic fame, he acted 41 in a private theatre which was constructed in some auction-room at Newington Butts. The peaceful inhabitants of Francis Street were wonder-struck; at the assemblage of individuals flocking to the auction-rooms, and deafened by the noises of violent declaimers and delighted audiences. At these performances, "Little Buckey"

(as he was called) discovered his "line" to be comedy. He became a staunch disciple of the Muses and his work in the solicitor’s office was very much neglected. The office was frequently left for days; irregularities were the consequence of neglect of business, relatives were offended and debts began to pile up. Dreading both the officers of the parish and the sheriff, "Little Buckey" found it necessary to migrate into the provinces. Accordingly, one Sunday afternoon, while his family was at chapel, he left his father’s house, and the following week found him playing the part of Trueman in

Georcre Barnwell at a temporary theatre in a small town in Berk­ shire. He was nineteen years old at this time.

While in Berkshire he also made a successful appearance as

G abriel in The C hildren in the Wood a t W orkingham . H ere he became a strolling player in 1821 and joined a travelling company playing from county to county. For the next three years he appeared at Folkstoke, Faversham, Hastings, Northampton, and

Leicester. It was while Bucks tone was pursuing this career as a 42 provincial actor that he became acquainted with Edmund Kean.

Kean, who seems to have appreciated Buckstone's humor, was one of the first of several to encourage him to continue in his calling. During these years, Buckstone experienced all of the odd events and vicissitudes incidental to the life of a country actor. 5

5see Appendixes HI and IV for accounts of two of Buckstone's experiences as a strolling player.

On one occasion he played three roles at once, performing the characters of Motley, Kenrick, and Reginald in The Castle Spectre.

Most of the time he traveHed on foot, as many as eighty miles from place to place, with little or no money in his pockets for food and lodging.

The wear and tear of a stroller's life finally caught up with

him and he returned home resolved to give up the theatre and stick

to law. His resolution soon oozed away when his old friend from

the Peckham, Mr. Burroughs, the new lessee of the Surrey Theatre, offered him an engagement there. He made his first appearance on

the London stage as Peter Smirke in J. H. Payne's burletta, The

Armistice, at the Surrey. 6 jjis success in this piece secured his

^Actors by Daylight and Pencilinqs in the Pit, I, No. 13 (May 26, 1838), 99. 43

engagement and he continued playing low comedy under Burroughs'

management with considerable eclat. Among his early successful performances at the Surrey was his role of Ramsay the watchmaker,

in Fitzball’s The Fortunes of Nieqel, done on January 30, 1823.

Buckstone joined Mr. Davidge at the Coburg Theatre in

October, 1824, and remained with the company until October 1,

1827, when he joined the Adelphi company under Mr. Daniel Terry

in a revival of his own play Luke the Labourer. 7 Apparently

^See Chapter in for additional information and a staging analysis of this play.

Buckstone was still not too well known in theatrical circles at this

time, as The Examiner's coverage of the season’s opener at the

Adelphi (which also included Buckstone’s John Street, Adelphi)

failed to acknowledge him as author. The casual manner in which

the critic mentioned Buckstone's appearance as Bobby Trot also

gives the impression that he was relatively unknown. The brief

notice, after recognizing those "old and forcible points of attraction,

Terry, Yates, T. P. Cooke, and John Reeve, " concluded: "In the

way of novelty, there were also a Miss Taylor, who is improvable, 44 and a Mr. Buckston tsicl whose Bobby Trott was humorous and promising. "8

8The Examiner, XX, No. 1027 (Oct. 7, 1827), 631.

Mr. Terry of the Adelphi also had an influence upon Buck- stone’s career. Since Buckstone's first attempt in Luke the

Labourer was so successful, Terry engaged him as an actor and encouraged him to continue writing. It was Terry who introduced

Buckstone to Sir Walter Scott, an event which added to Buckstone's ambition for a literary career.

Buckstone soon became a favorite actor at the Adelphi. He and fellow actor John Reeve became very close friends and worked so well together that they became known as the "Adelphi of comedy. "

Although the actors were different in style and appearance, each was broadly humorous and the two achieved much acclaim. They became extremely fond of and adept at ad libitum. It was noted that they once kept the audience in roars of laughter for twenty-five minutes with their "ad-libs. "

Many of Buckstone's best-known dramas were performed at the Adelphi. Another of his earlier successes, Wanted, A Partner, or, A BiH Due on the 29 th of September, was performed therefor 45 the opening of the season in 1828. The Examiner reported it as follows:

A new burletta was represented, entitled Wanted, a Partner, or, A Bill Due on the 29th of September: the plot of which, as we have not space to detail it, our readers must take our simple recommendation to go and see the piece itself. The house was full at the rising curtain; and to judge from the impression made upon the audience, who roared with laughter, it will no doubt receive the same compliment for nights to com e. ^

9The E xam iner. XXI, No. 1079 (Oct. 5, 1828), 648.

Other Buckstone plays done at the Adelphi during this early period included A Dead Shot; Presumptive Evidence, or, Murder WiU

Out: The Absent Son; The May Queen, or, Sampson the Serjeant; and Billy Taylor, or, The Gay Young Fellow. -*-9

lOSee Appendix I for a complete listing of Buckstone's plays and the theatres where they were originally performed.

Buckstone had some of his plays performed at other theatres during this period. One of his first melodramas, The Bear-

Hunters, or, The Fatal Ravine, was performed at the Coburg

Theatre on April 25, 1825. H Other Coburg productions during

llAllardyce Nicoll, A History of English Drama, 1680-1900 (2nd ed. ; Cambridge: University Press, 1955), IV, 273. 46

this period were The Bovne Water, or, Oondqh of Jhe Broken Heart;

Peter Bell, the Waggoner, or, Murderers of Massiac; and Vidocq,

the French Police Spy. His burletta, Curiosity Cured, or, Powder for Peeping, was done at Sadler's WeHs on June 20, 1825. Buck­ stone's melodrama, Theadore the Brigand, or. The Corsican

Conscript, was also done at this theatre. An operetta, The Death

Fetch, or. The Student of Gottlinger, with music by C. E. Horn, was performed at the English Opera House, July 25, 1826. The

Surrey Theatre was the scene of Buckstone's interlude, Mischief

Making, on September 16, 1828. A melodrama, The Young Quaker,

appeared at the Bath Theatre on March 16, 1829. Buckstone's first

play at the Haymarket was a very successful performance of his

burletta, The Happiest Day of My Life, done there July 29, 1829.

The theatre critic of The Literary Gazette and Journal of Belles

Lettres cited this performance as follows:

A very pleasant translation of Le plus beau Jour de ma Vie was produced here on Wednesday evening, by Mr. Buckstone, the author of Luke the Labourer, and several other very clever pieces, at the minor theatres. His style is scarcely polished enough for Haymarket comedy; and were we inclined to be hyper­ critical, we might point out many discrepancies in the drawing of the principal personages of his drama. The effect of the whole . . . was so amusing, that we only allude to the blemishes as trifles to be avoided in the future and heartily subscribe to the very favourable 47

opinion which was unequivocally expressed by a numerous and fashionable audience. 12

12The Literary Gazette, and Journal of Belles Lettres, XIII, No. 654 (Aug. 1, 1829), 50 8.

Although this review states that Buckstone's style is not quite good enough for Haymarket comedy, one week later this same periodical called the play "one of the cleverest farcical travesties of human nature" and recommended it highly. I 3

l3Ibid. . No. 655 (Aug. 9, 1829), p. 519.

Buckstone made his debut as a dramatist at Drury Lane with his comedy Snakes in the Grass on November 3, 1829. The theatre critic of The Examiner was not overly enthusiastic when he stated:

. . . had the writer of Snakes in the Grass been more careful in bringing his characters in collision, and severely chastised the composition of his dialogue, he would have produced a highly successful piece for his plot is a good one, and with some exceptions the incidents are natural. H

14The Examiner, XXH, No. 1136 (Nov. 8, 1829), 707.

After a rather lengthy account of plot and discussion of characters, the critic concluded, "We have not heard who the 48 author is, but we think, if he persevere fsicl he will do better. "15

15ibid., p. 708.

Buckstone played in many of his own plays, starting with Luke the Labourer in 1827 at the Adelphi. He also made a few appear­ ances in productions of other playwrights during this period. One of his greatest performances was his portrayal of Gnatbrain in

Douglas Jerrold’s Blackeyed Susan, produced at the Surrey Theatre on June 8, 1829. He became quite famous for his creation of this role and sustained it weH in revivals for many years.

There is one other role Buckstone played in 1829 which further helped establish him as a first rate low-comedy player.

The piece was a burletta entitled Monsieur Mallet, or. My Daugh­ ter^ Letter. The play dealt with American peculiarities and manners and Buckstone played the part of an American congress­ man from Otsego County, Kentucky. Since the burletta satirized a living American congressman from Kentucky, it was only natural to compare Buckstone's character with the true American congress­ man. Buckstone's performance of this Adelphi production was even 49 reviewed in a New York periodical, The Critic: A Weekly Review of Literature, Fine Arts, and the Drama. The reviewer said:

The actor Buckstone exhibited an excellent like­ ness of the Kentucky congressman, bringing out every comic or ridiculous peculiarity in the American character with much effect. . . . Mr. Buckstone exhibited an excellent portrait of the vain, rude, blustering, bullying, ignorant Kentuckian. 16

Critic: A Weekly Review of Literature, Fine Arts, and the D ra m a , I, No. 22 (April 4, 1829), 352-353.

It appears that the writer of the review was greatly impressed with Buckstone’s role, as his performance was the only one singled out for praise although such well-seasoned players as

Mr. and Mrs. Yates and T. P. Cooke also appeared in the produc­

tion.

Middle Years (1830-1852)

It was during this period that Buckstone's fame and

reputation, both as an actor and author, grew by leaps and

bounds. In addition to performing in his own plays, he also

devoted much time to writing plays and adapting them mainly

for the Adelphi and the Haymarket. He also had openings at

Drury Lane, Sadleris WeHs, Royal Princess, Olympic, Strand,

Surrey, and the Lyceum. At least sixty new pieces or adaptations 50 are attributed to his pen during this period. Productions of several of these plays should be mentioned here. His farce, Poppincr the

Question, brought out at Drury Lane in March of 1830, marks his first big success in that theatre. The Athenaeum reviewed it favorably:

There are two modes of popping the question . . . one instinctive and practised by men in love, the other ratiocinative, and practised by men who think it right to get married. The respective merits of these methods of transacting a very simple affair are happily illustrated in the lively little piece.

The plot of this piece, although simple, is in itself lively, it is welL managed, the equivoques are sustained with spirit and ingenuity. . . . The piece as performed, afforded indeed a most agree­ able hour’s amusement and weH merited the favourable reception it met with. It was given out for repetition with universal approbation. ™

17iDie Afhena^um, HI, No. 126 (March 27, 1830), 189.

Another important success was The Wreck Ashore, or, A Bride­ groom from the Sea, which opened at the Adelphi on October 25,

1830. At the close of the season in March, 1831, The Athenaeum reported that The Wreck Ashore "has been the most successful piece of the season, and one of the most so that has ever been produced. It was acted on this occasion for the eightieth time. "18

18The Athenaeum, IV, No. 179 (April 2, 1831), 221. 51

As early as 1832, Buckstone tried his hand at theatre management. He and Mrs. Fitzwilliam rented a building on

Liverpool Street in the London north side. Originally built by a voice teacher for the exercise of his pupils and for musical entertainments, this squeezed-up building was opened by Buck­ stone and his partner as the Clarence Theatre. The speculation proved so unremunerative that they quickly abandoned it.

l^Henry Barton Baker, History of the London Stage and Its Famous Players (1576-1903) (London: George RoutLedge and Sons, Ltd., 1904), p. 381.

There were many farces and adaptations which enjoyed popularity in their day. Forgery, or. The Reading of the Will, performed in March, 1832, at the Adelphi, gave Buckstone dual success as dramatist and actor as he scored heavily in the comedy role. In 1833, his Ellen Wareham with Mrs. Yates in the lead was played at the Haymarket. The Athenaeum gave another very favorable review but made an interesting comment at the close of

the review:

From the serious part we turn with pleasure to the comic, and here Mr. Buckstone is, as usual, quite at home. . . . The author has again given himself but little to do, but it is in his own style, and then he knows how to make much of a little. ^0

2OThe Athenaeum, VI, No. 288 (May 4, 1833), 284. 52

This is the first indication that it was becoming apparent that

Buckstone was now beginning to develop his own peculiar comic

style of acting which later became his trademark. Although he did

not overlook the general aspects of his roles, he clothed them all

in a uniform garb of the "Buckstonian humor" for which he became

famous. This same year, Buckstone played at the Haymarket in

Jerrold's The Houaekeeper, or, The White Rose. In 1834, besides

four plays at the Adelphi, he had Rural Felicity and Married Life at

the Haymarket. The latter had Mr. Faucit, Mrs. Glover, Mrs.

Humby, Vinning, Farren, and himself in the casts. During the

next few years, Buckstone continued wilting and acting for both the

Haymarket in the summer and the Adelphi in the winter. In 1837,

he joined Benjamin W ebster's permanent company at the Haymarket.

He became the leading comedian and farce writer of this theatre for

the next fifteen years.

On January 16, 1838, Buckstone made his first bow on the

boards of Drury Lane with "greater effect than had been attended

any of his other debuts. "21 He appeared as Wormwood in his own

2lMarried Life (Haymarket, 1834), Courtesy New York Public Library. OSUFilmNo. P. 323,p. v. AH future references to this prompt book wiH be cited as P. 323. 53 play, The Lottery Ticket. Two days later his farce, Our Mary

Ann, was successfully staged there.

By 1840, Buckstone had become so famous that a tour of

America was arranged. When he left for America the British press lamented, "How our own theatre can spare him we know not. "22 What a compliment for a man who scarcely ten years

22spjrit of the Times, X (Aug. 1, 1840), 5. earlier was just beginning to become known in theatre circles?

Although Buckstone's acting may have been missed in England during this two-year period, his plays were continually being performed. A contemporary of his observed, "Scarcely a night passes that one of his plays is not presented at one of our theatres. "22

23Ibid. (Aug. 17, 1840), p. 7.

Buckstone's popularity as an author spread to America long before his first visit there in 1840. From 1827 on, hundreds of performances of Buckstone plays are recorded in O'Dell's Annals of the New York Stage alone. Obviously, his plays were popular and produced in other American cities. An example of the extreme popularity of his plays is found in the records of the St. Louis stage. 54

A scholar, studying the records of theatrical activity from 1835 to

1840 in this city, reported:

Of the dramatists whose worts were seen and heard "on the St. Louis Boards, " the most popular, if we may judge by statistics, was unfortunately, not William Shakespeare or Richard Brinsley Sheridan, but John Baldwin Buckstone, there being presented eighty-one performances of twelve of his compositions, all within the la s t five seasons Q.835-4Q). Among these pieces were The Ice Witch, the farce of Damon and Pythias, The Pet of the Petticoats, A Husband at Sight, Victorine, John Jones of the War Office, The Dead Shot, The Irish Lion, and Luke the Laborer. Second place goes to Shakespeare with sixty-eight performances of thirteen plays. . . . Next comes Planche', who . . . ran up a total of forty-seven productions of seven pieces, and Sheridan Knowles, also represented by seven plays, with forty- six productions.^

^William G. B. Carson, The Theatre on the Frontier (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1932), pp. 313-314.

Buckstone’s plays were also being produced quite frequently in such cities as Boston, Philadelphia, and New Orleans. It was no wonder that an American tour was planned for him.

On Monday, August 17, 1840, Buckstone made his first appearance in America at the Park Theatre in New York. ^5 jje

25Joseph I. Ireland, Records of the New York Stacre, II (New York: T. H. M orell C o ., 1867), 334. 55 played Peter Pinkey in his own play, Single Life, and Jemmy

Wheedle in his farce, Weak Points. He was not as enthusiastically received as expected. One review of this opening limited its comments about his acting to two statements:

Mr. Buckstone made an agreeable impression, but his name was not sufficiently attractive to fill the house. He was a very clever farceur, but as a general comedian, inferior to several resident artists. 26

26As quoted by ibid.

Although at first Buckstone was not highly regarded in

America as a player of farce or comedy, toward the end of his

two-year visit, his vogue increased, especially on the southern circuit. An example of his southern popularity is recorded in

Glen Hughes * History of the American Theatre. Hughes writes:

Other distinguished visiting players were J. B. Buckstone, the English playwright and comedian, and Mrs. Fanny Fitzwilliam, who according to Sol Smith, in 1841 was "cramming the American [New Orleans^ every night, and throwing from nine hundred to a thousand people into fits of laughter and causing them to forget the hard times, short crops, and everything else of a disagreeable nature. "27

2^Glenn Hughes, A,History of the American Theatre, 1700- 1950 (New York: Samuel French, 1951), p. 165.

While in America, Buckstone also wrote several new plays.

One of these, The Banished Star, written especially for Mrs. 56

Fitzwilliam, was produced very successfully at the Park Theatre in New York on December 11, 1840. 28 Another new play, Solomon

28]j*eland, op. cit. , p. 341.

Smink, or, The M illerfs Man and the Chevalier, was performed

November 2, 1840, at the New National Theatre in Philadelphia. 29

29Arthur H. Wilson, A. History of the Philadelphia Theatre, 1835 to 1855 (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1935), p. 649.

It probably was not too successful as it was not performed in New

York.

Buckstone joined the staff of the National Theatre in New

York, making his debut there December 8, 1840, in his own play

A Kiss in the Dark. He also appeared at this theatre in four other of his plays within the next week: The Christening (December 9);

Poor Jack (December 12); The Lottery Ticket (December 14); and

Our Mary Ann (December 15). ^

^George C. D. OdeU, Annals of the New York Stage (New York: Columbia University Press, 1928), IV, 465.

After a moderately successful two-year visit in America,

Buckstone and Mrs. Fitzwilliam returned to England and W ebster's company at the Haymarket. His first appearance there after 57 returning was the role of Dove in his own play Married Life on

October 19, 1842. Of his opening The Athenaeum said:

Buckstone showed his comic phiz again on Wednes­ day, after his long absence in America, and literally "tipped the wink" to the audience, who responded with a roar of laughter. 31

31 The Athenaeum. XV, No. 782 (Oct. 22, 1842), 916.

After the play, he was called forward and acknowledged his welcome home.

Buckstone continued acting at the Haymarket and writing for both the Haymarket and Adelphi for the next five years. He performed with Madame Celeste at the Haymarket; he was in the unsuccessful production of Quid Pro Quo and he created Bob in

Boucicault's play, Old Heads and Young Hearts. 3^ Some of his

33W. J\ Macqueen-Pope, Haymarket: Theatre of Perfec tion (London: W. H. Allen, 1948), p. 290. other Haymarket performances of this period included Victor and

Hortense, a French vaudeville, in which both Mr. Webster and

Madame Celeste had important roles: A Cure for Love; Caught in a Trap; the role of Grumio in Taming of the Shrew: The Sempstress: and the outrageous character of Tilly Slowboy in The Cricket on the

Hearth. He appeared with Charlotte Cushman in Twelfth Night in 58

1846 playing Sir Andrew Aguecheek, a role which later became

one of his best known creations. He also appeared in his own

plays, Snapping Turtles; The Thimble Rig; Josephine, or, The

Fortune of War; and Jane Shore. At the Adelphi, Buckstone’s

The Green Bushes, or, A Hundred Years Ago (1845); and The

Flowers of the Forest, A_ Gipsy Story (184 7), became two of his

biggest successes at that theatre. Another of Buckstone’s famous

roles was his Scrub in The Beaux Stratagem, in which he took a

farewell benefit on July 21, 1847 when he left the Haymarket for

a short engagement at the Lyceum Theatre. 33

33The Athenaeum, XXEH, No. 1030 (July 24, 1847), 796.

The 1847-48 season opened at the Lyceum with Buckstone

appearing and exerting himself "with humorous effect" as Isidore

Farine in The Pride of the Market, in which Madame Vestris also

performed. 3^ It was also at the Lyceum that Buckstone first

34Ib id .. No. 1043 (Oct. 23, 1847), p. 1108.

appeared as John Box in Box and Cox with Mr. Harley. The two

actors became very famous in these roles, which gave them as

much fun and entertainment to enact as for the audience to watch.

It was in this same play that Buckstone appeared as one of the

1 59 representative actors chosen for the special performances to raise money for the purchase of Shakespeare's hoise at Stratford-

upon-Avon in 1847. A year later, Buckstone and Harley appeared at Windsor Castle for a special performance of this play.

35Ibid., XXIV, No. 1100 (Nov. 25, 1848), 1185.

While at the Lyceum Theatre, Buckstone wrote a short farce entitled A Rough Diamond. It was first produced there on Monday,

November 8, 1847. Although it was not too well received at first, it later became quite popular as an afterpiece at the Haymarket.

It is interesting to note the similarities of this play with that of

J. Hartley Manners' Peg o' My Heart, which is still performed

today. H. G. Hibbert in his memoirs was the first to call attention

to this fact when he wrote:

I do not recaH that Hartley Manners ever officially acknowledged his indebtedness to Blackstone's fsicl Rough Diamond for Peg o' My Heart, but it was there aH right.

33H. G. Hibbert, A Playgoer's Memories (London: Grant Richards, Ltd., 1920), p. 148.

It is very obvious that Mr. Manners knew Buckstone’s play when he

wrote Peg o' My Heart. The main similarity is found in the charac­

terization of the leading roles. Buckstone's Margery is just as 60 uncultured and unrefined as Manners’ Margaret (shortened to

Peg). Both characters come from common and unrefined back­ grounds to live with socialites of the "other side of the tracks. "

Both girls have similar habits, pets, and dress, which are disliked and scorned by their highly refined and cultured relatives. Both suggest returning to their common and plain fathers. Both finally marry aristocratic men.

ha 1848, Buckstone returned to the Haymarket and played with Mr. and Mrs. Charles Kean in Macbeth. Benjamin Webster, with a view of strengthening the cast, was ill-advised enough to cast Buckstone as the First Witch. The well-known and peculiar voice of the comedian, coming from the weird figure of the witch, caused much amusement. The players were horrified but the audience delighted and the house shook with almost unstoppable laughter. Buckstone, true to his nature, could not resist being funny.

Buckstone’s farce An Alarming Sacrifice was produced at the Haymarket in July of 1849. In January of 1850, his very successful comedy, Leap Year, or,The Ladies4 Privilege (in which the Keans appeared) opened there. Buckstone added success

to success and as both author and actor was one of the main pillars 61 of the Haymarket under Webster's management. Of Buckstone's acting ability, Webster had this to say:

As to Mr. Buckstone, the actor, some scribes, bom of Scribe, will, in their small judgments, tell you he is only at home as the representative of his own offspring. Very natural to be sure; but unfortu­ nately for these liberal-minded gentry, the highest encomiums have been publicly passed on his persona­ tions of "Sir Andrew Aguecheek, " "Sim, " "Spado, " "Squire Richard, " "Wormwood, " "Inkpen, " "Hans, " in Mr. Knowles'popular play of "The Maid of Maxien- dorpt, " "Paul Pry, etc., and for filling out a meagre sketch, till it appears a very prominent part, Buckstone is your only man. However, it is too well known to need our meed of praise, that he is one of the most original (and we use the word in the broadest sense) and amusing comedians of the day; and his peculiarities are so rich and strong, that an indifferent imitation of him is sure to be responded to with shouts of laughter and applause. . . . As brother actor, and now his manager, we have known him but to respect and admire him, for his fair and upright conduct and ardent zeal for the well doing of those with whom he is engaged; and either as actor or author, or both, we consider him to be a most valuable acquisition bo any theatre. 37

37Benjamin Webster, as quoted in P. 323, p. vii.

When Webster gave up the managership of the Haymarket and took over the Adelphi in 1853, Buckstone became the new manager of the Haymarket.

Buckstone had some ideas of his own. He did not care about tragedy or heavy drama. Although he later produced some 62

Shakespeare he was hesitant and not over anxious to do so because he was convinced that Shakespeare would not draw at the box office. He was a comedian and a very expert writer of melo­ drama. He decided that comedy was to be the main "bill of fare” at the Haymarket. Under his control, the Haymarket became the leading comedy theatre of London, a position it still holds today.

Later Years (1853-1879)

Buckstone began his managership of the Haymarket Theatre on Easter Monday, March 28, 1853. He had coUected a fine company of players about him, part of which he inherited from

Webster, his predecessor. Among them were Barry Sullivan,

Henry Compton, Mr. and Mrs. Chippendale, Corri, How, William

Farren, Jr., Tilbury, Rogers, Arthur Payne, Miss Reynolds,

Miss Louisa Howard, Mrs. Buckingham, Mrs. Poynter, Mrs.

Stanley, Miss A. Vernon, M issE. Romer, Miss A. Vinning, Mrs.

Caulfield, Miss E. Bromley, Miss Grace Leslie, and Miss L a i d l e r . 3 8

8^Macqueen-Pope, loc. cit.

This company of players was considered the best comedy talent of the day.

The program for Buckstone's opening started with The Rivals, starring Mr. Chippendale. Then followed a burlesque by Planche,, 63 called Buckstone’s Ascent of Mount Parnassus, which was illus­ trated by a painted panorama of eight classic views or scenes accompanied with a running dialogue full of pun and satire inter­ spersed with songs and parodies.

Buckstone’s first full season began on Monday, October 25,

1853, w ith perform ances of A Cure for Love and The B eg g ar’s

Opera. Buckstone had made the following improvements to the theatre as recorded by The Athenaeum:

The theatre opened on Monday having undergone extensive embellishments and improvements. By lowering the floor of the orchestra, an uninterrupted view of the stage has been secured, - and a new stage and machinery with the latest improvements for pro­ ducing the best effects, have been constructed. A light blue curtain has been substituted for the late green one; and a new drop-scene has been painted by Mr. W. Calcott.

39The Athenaeum, XCVI, No. 1357 (Oct. 29, 1853), 1295.

Late in December of 1853, Buckstone produced the first pantomime ever to be performed at the Haymarket. This new type of entertainment for the Haymarket was Southy’s nursery-tale of

The Three Bears, or, Little Silverhair and the Faeries. It was different from ordinary pantomimes because Buckstone wrote an introductory portion which treated the nursery-tale in a rather serious way. The Athenaeum regarded it as ”an acceptable 64 modification of that species of Christmas entertainment on account of its distinguishing peculiarity. "40

4Qlbid., No. 1366 CDec. 31, 1853), p. 1598.

One of the earlier successes of Buckstone's management was

Senora Perea Nena and her partner Senor Marcos Diaz. In 1857 they appeared with a troupe of Spanish dancers and did much to revolutionize stage dancing and ballet at a time when ballet was losing its interest. Miss Nena became quite an attraction. Her speed, vivaciousness, and the rapidity and variety of her steps, together with her method of working up to a frenzied climax created a great sensation. George Vandenhoff, a leading tragedian who had successfully played Hamlet at the Haymarket, gave the foUowing description of Perea Nena which also includes a little hint of Buck­ stone's managerial methods:

The Spanish Dancers, headed by the agile little Andalusian Perea Nena, were the next novelty at the Haymarket Theatre and such was their - or rather her - attraction, for her corps de ballet were shock­ ing contrasts to her rapid, flashing, coquettish movements, now like the curvettings of an Arab barb, fretting on the bit, anon like the bound of an antelope, and now and again like the whirl and whiz of a steam engine - such was her attraction, that actors and acting became of quite secondary importance. Mr. Buckstone took advantage of the opportunity to rid himself of aH salaries that it was inconvenient b pay, and with aH services he could now dispense with, by the expedient of a notice in the green-room, closing 65

the season on a Saturday night, and re-opening it on the Monday following, as a summer season.' Ingenious and ingenuous? 41

4lMac queen -Pope, ojg. cit., p. 294.

Buckstone's first season extended over five years and during that period the house was not closed one night when the law p er­ mitted it to be open. In the type of entertainment, Buckstone followed closely in the steps of his predecessors. Revivals of old comedies were relieved with the production of new ones, melodrama, domestic drama, and a sprinkling of tragedy. Buck­ stone believed in value for money. His program began early and lasted until one o'clock in the morning. A typical bill of fare might include a comedy and three farces. Patrons were admitted after nine o'clock for half price. During the opera season, many would spend a full evening at the opera and then about midnight go across the street to see the closing farce at the Haymarket.

Another successful performance during this first season was / Planche’s The Knights of the Round Table, in which George

Vandenhoff and Buckstone both scored well. Later this play was revived with Harry Compton in the leading role and it ran for fifty-four consecutive nights. Other successes included Henry

Compton, Leigh Murray, and Mrs. Stirling in Where There's a 66

Will There's a Way; King Rene’s Daughter with Helen Faucit, Barry

Sullivan, Howe, and W. Farren, J r.; A Moving Tale with the Keeley family; and Vandenhoff starring in Money, The Lady of Lyons, Much

Ado about Nothing, The Stranger, Henry VHI, Town and Country, and London Assurance.

During this first season, a great tower of strength was lost

to Buckstone when Mrs. Fitzwilliam suddenly became ill and died of cholera. She had not only been his long time business partner but was his wife as well, a fact which not too many people knew. Her death marked the beginning of Buckstone's financial problems at the

Haymarket, since she had handled the business side of the manage­

ment. Buckstone was a bad business man. He gave too much value

and did not watch expenses, two things which, although they helped

the theatre from a public point of view, led him to financial disaster

in the end.

However, there were still many successful pieces performed

on the boards of the Haymarket before Buckstone was to quit his

management there. He made Tom Taylor a regular Haymarket

dramatist. Of Taylor's plays, Buckstone produced many and played

in many. His most famous roles in Taylor's plays included Butterley

in Victims and Botcherley in An Unequal Match in 1857 (Miss Amy

Sedgwick also made a great success as Hester Grazebrook in the 67 latter). Buckstone played Mr. Peckover in The Contested Election in 1859. He appeared as Lovibond in The Overland Route, Bettle in

The Babes in the Wood, Bunter in New Men and Old Acres, and as

Asa Trenchard in Our American Cousin.

It was Our American Cousin with E. A. Sothern playing Lord

Dundreary which was Buckstone's biggest hit. It was this same play which also saved him from an early financial disaster and

made him a small fortune. Early in 1861 it seemed that good luck

was deserting the Haymarket and Buckstone. Things had been

going against him. Perhaps he missed Mrs. Fitzwilliam and her

sound business management. It is probable, however, that his

own business methods were to blame. He gave too much for the

money and, as he wanted everyone to be happy, he did not cut down

salaries. He was a good natured, happy-go-lucky man himself.

Perhaps, too, he was failing to observe that sound Haymarket

tradition of star names; there were not too many available at this

time and he was playing too much himself, not giving enough variety

for box-office pull. At any rate he was near financial disaster when

he decided to produce Our American Cousin in November of 1861.

Taylor's play had first appeared in America. Its great

success was not due to the plot or dialogue, but to the performance

and zany actions of the English actor, E. A. Sothern. In 1852, Sothern was in New York at Laura Keene’s Theatre when the

management wanted him to play the part of Lord Dundreary in

Our American Cousin. This role of an old man consisted of only forty-seven lines and Sothern refused to play the part. The

management pressed and Sothern finally agreed to play Dundreary on condition that he be allowed to alter the role, rewrite it and play it on his own lines. The management agreed and Sothern began by putting everything into the role which he had ever seen

that seemed funny or absurd. One day at rehearsals, Sothern was

hopping about backstage to keep warm. Laura Keene, who did not

approve of Sothern's additions to the script, asked him if he

intended to put his antics into the part of Lord Dundreary. Sothern

said "yes" and so felt obligated to do so. He made the character

walk with a curious hop and found that the company, stage hands,

and the audience all roared with laughter. The role was now

complete and the play caught on. It ran for years, spreading all

over America. Its fame spread to London and Buckstone, anxious

for something new, decided to produce it. He was doing what

many theatre managers do when they find themselves near financial

ruin. He was taking a chance. Both Buckstone and Sothern had

grave doubts as to whether or not the English would like Lord

Dundreary. It was one thing to make Americans laugh over a 69 caricature of an Englishman, and another thing to present an audience of their own countrymen with something they might well regard as an insult.

The play was a first night success. Sothern got his laughs; he convulsed the audience into hysterics. The Athenaeum reported:

Whether the character (Lord Dundrear^ by itself would sustain any degree of interest we much doubt, but in the hands of Mr. Sothern, the gentleman who has been acting it for so many hundred nights over the water, it is certainly the funniest thing in the world. ^2

42The Athenaeum. CXII, No. 1777 (Nov. 16, 1861), 659.

Yet, after four performances, business was so slow that Buckstone was convinced that the play was offensive and he advertised She

Stoops to Conquer to succeed it. However, in the audience of the fourth performance was the distinguished and celebrated comedian,

Charles J. Mathews, who appraised the piece and liked it. He begged Buckstone to keep the play on and suggested that he advertise it as no show had been advertised before. Buckstone was convinced.

He put out bills by the hundreds and invited critics who had not previously seen the play. The critics came and gave good notices.

Henry Morly said:

Our American Cousin is a piece of Transatlantic extravagance which will have a long run at the Hay­ market, not only because it is well mounted and acted 70

and presents Mr. Buckstone in a Yankee character, but more especially for the sake of a sketch new to our stage, given by an actor hitherto unknown in London, Mr. Sothern, with an eccentric and whim­ sical elaboration that is irresistibly amusing . . . shouts of laughter follow every look and gesture. He contrives, in the midst of all the extravagance, to maintain for his inane lord the air of a well-bred, good-natured gentleman, and shows an art in his absurdity that makes us curious to see what he can do in some other character. But it will be long before he has leave from the public to do anything but identify himself with Lord Dundreary. The piece is sure of a long run. ^

4^A s quoted in Macqueen-Pope, pp. cit., p. 302.

The public began to respond and the crowds grew. Lord

Dundreary became the talk of the town. Business increased as

Dundreary became the fashion. Men grew Dundreary whiskers and wore Dundreary coats. London became Dundreary-crazy. Every­ one had to see Dundreary at the Haymarket or be a social outcast.

The play made over thirty thousand pounds for Buckstone. It became the first really long run in theatrical history, 400 nights.

44ibid., p. 303.

Buckstone had no money sense. Cash slipped thro ugh his fingers and he never knew where it went. The small fortune he made from Our American Cousin soon vanished into thin air. Another misfortune was that he became deaf. His deafness raised a wall of separation between him and all but a small circle of friends. While performing, he was guided in his by-play as well as in his spoken part entirely by his knowledge of the play acquired in reading it and by his quick eye which could catch much of what his fellow actors said from the movement of their lips and the expression on their faces. Usually when the other actor’s lips ceased to move, Buckstone would then say his lines. Sothern used to tease him by moving his lips after finishing a speech while

Buckstone, to the amazement of the audience, would stand silent, watching him intently.

Soon Buckstone’s deafness prevented his taking an active part in the rehearsal and stage management of his pieces for which by his experience as actor, playwright, and manager he was so unusually well qualified. At first his old company, knowing each other’s points, worked well together and stage-managed their pieces very much for themselves. However, when the old company began to break up and stars like Farren, Compton, Chippendale,

Vandenhoff, and Madam Vestis quit the stage, the productions

gradually grew into slovenliness. Sothern had become a power at

the Haymarket and had practically controHed the theatre for about

ten years. New stars came on the scene and were allowed to work 72 their usual mischief. John S. Clarke, an American comedian, actually managed the theatre the last year of Bucks tone's tenure.

Buckstone finally retired from active participation in 1878 and a year later, on October 31, 1879, died at the age of seventy- seven. Shortly after the death of Mrs. Fitzwilliam, Buckstone was remarried to Isabella Copeland, the first cousin of his first wife. From this second marriage, Buckstone was the father of three children. His two sons, John C. and Rowland, became successful actors on both the London and New York stages while

Lucy, his daughter, made her reputation as an actress on the

London boards.

Buckstone was not the financial success that he might have been. Had his first wife lived and continued supervising the

theatre's business matters he might not have bungled the money

himself. His experience as a dramatist, his popularity as an actor and his amiability and kindliness were the only requisites of a manager that he brought with him to the Haymarket. His

management started off favorably with his strong new company,

still fresh to the public; and, while he was bringing out new works by new authors or practiced and successful old ones, all went weU.

Although he always produced his pieces with due attention to scenic

and stage effects, he lacked the insight to freshen the old blood of 73

his company with new. He overused the sound managerial principle of getting a good company and keeping it. The public was permitted

to see the same old favorites, night after night, season after season,

and year after year. Gradually there was a lack of energy and life

about Bucks tone’s management. Much of this could be accounted to

his infirmity, yet some of it was the result of his easy-going

temperament and his reluctance to face difficulties and problems

by any less ruinous means than to pay any price for money when it

was wanted. Because of his deafness, Buckstone became content to

be too dependent on those about him and often threw too much power

into the hands of subordinates not always worthy of the confidence he

gave them.

While in his prime and before his deafness set in, Buckstone

was recognized as an able prompter and stage manager. He was

known to rehearse a new play for weeks until all of the minor per­

formers could go through all their carefully prescribed motions

with exactness and were letter perfect. The unfortunate actor who

was not on his appointed spot or instant in his speech was in trouble

with the manager. At the Haymarket, Buckstone staged his comedies

with robust but unforced humor and smooth, unhesitating action. A

patron could always be certain of hearing good dialogue crisply

delivered with due attention to rhythm and emphasis. Bucks tone's 74 revivals of old comedies were usually performed as they were written except for the "cuts" sanctioned by the best stage usage and in accordance with the old scene plans and directions. He did not use elaborate or costly interiors, or box sets, but flats and wings which were shifted before the eyes of the audience. 45

45 John Rankin Towse, Sixty Yeans of the Theatre (New York: Funk and Wagnalls, 1916), p. 23.

Buckstone believed that rapidity and smoothness were the chief essentials of stage illusion. He was as conscientious in the preparation of new plays as he was in that of classic masterpieces.

As an actor, the English stage has seen few more genial and humorous mimics than Buckstone. 46 was 0f English

46Tom Taylor, "Impressions of John Baldwin Buckstone, " The Theatre, HI (Dec. 1, 1879), 266. style, broad and laughter-making. He always attached more importance to the humorous than to any other quality of the part he acted. He clothed aU of his roles in a uniform garb of the

Buckstonian humor which was conveyed through the eye-twinkle and mouth twist everyone knew so weH and the rich chuckle of a voice whose sound could produce a roar of laughter before he appeared. He provoked laughter without force and was admirable 75 in the quiet, unerring power with which he made a point. When he became deaf, audiences marvelled at his ability to pitch his voice, always audible and without strain or stress. He was also known as a fair and honest actor. It is said he never took more than his due share of the stage or exaggerated his by-play so as to distract attention from others. Tom Taylor once said, "I never saw in him any trace of personal jealousy or unfairness, on or off the stage.1,4^

47lbid.

Much of Bucks tone's popularity as a comedian was due to his unusual physical features and strange physiognomy. He was relatively small in stature, five feet, five inches, with brown hair and hazel eyes. The appearance of his face in the wings, with his merry twinkling eyes on either side of a tip-tilted nose was enough to start his audience laughing. Percy Fitzgerald gives an exceHent description of Buckstonefs face when he writes:

A more singular face could not be devised - the intensely droll eyes set in their places a little crookedly, a delightfully grotesque nose, cheeks something after the pattern of cutlets, and whose muscles went up and down delicately relaxed, and the mouth.' That, drawing it over to one side, into a comer, as it were, until by the act a sort of money­ box slit or aperture was made; with this difference, that the good things were projected out of it, instead 76

of anything being dropped in; - that "twist, " was special to himself. He had the patent, as it were, seeming to speak round a corner, or from behind his lip, as it were! When he stepped on the boards, the sight of that strangely-modelled fsicl face and the curious twang of his note filled all with delight. 48

48percy Fitzgerald, "Actor's Faces, " The Theatre, I, New Series (Dec. 1, 1878), p. 357.

Buckstone, unlike many inferior comedians, did not rely entirely on his personality for his stage effects. Although he could not disguise his identity, he was an actor and changed his manner with his impersonations. His Sir Andrew Aguecheek, for example, was dry, inane, droU, and Shakespearean, while his Tony Lumpkin was a rustic hobbledehoy, loutish, prankish, selfish, and cunning, yet not altogether ungenerous or unamiable. 49 The complex elements

49Towse, ojD. cit., p. 25. in it were skillfully harmonized and it retained the buoyancy of youth after he was a septuagenarian. E. A. Sothern, late inBuck- stone's career, paid him an interesting tribute when he said:

Buckstone must now be about seventy-five years of age, but old as he is, he gets hold of his audience more rapidly than anyone I know. A simple "Good morning" from him seems to set the house in a roar. His personal magnetism is simply wonderful. He acts as if he had string on all his fingers attached to 77

the audience in front and plays with them and pulls them about just as he wants. 50

5QAs quoted in Macqueen-Pope, pp. cit. , 309.

Surely Buckstone was a master comedian. It is said that his ghost still haunts the Haymarket Theatre.

Buckstone was scarcely better known as an actor than as a prolific dramatist. Of his stage productions, numbering about one hundred and fifty, scarcely one was a failure, while many were unusually successful. Among his best-known productions were

Luke the Labourer; The Wreck Ashore; Married Life; Single Life;

The Green Bushes, or, A Hundred Years Ago; Flowers of the

Forest; Leap Year, or, the Ladies1 Privilege; and Popping the

Question. Buckstone also dramatized a number of contemporary novels and adapted plays from French authors. CHAPTER IH

AN ANALYSIS OF LUKE THE LABOURER

In Luke the Labourer, or, The Lost Son, Buckstone attempted a melodrama which "assailed its audience not with spectacle or

sensation, but with simple emotions and plentiful pathos.

-'-George Rowell, The V ictorian T heatre: A Survey (London: Oxford University Press, 1956), p. 47.

Several scholars suggest that this play brought to the theatre a

new type of "domestic" melodrama which made it one of his most

important contributions as a playwright. The foUowing analysis

of this play will include (1) The story of the play, (2) Historical

and critical comments, (3) The significance of the play, and (4)

Aspects of staging.

The Story of the Play

The scene of the play is a village near York. About twenty

years before the action of the play, Farm er Wakefield, a very

prosperous farmer, had treated Luke, a farm hand, with unkind­

ness but not injustice. Luke had been dismissed from Wakefield's

78 79 employment because of his excessive drinking. Luke had no money for food and eventually his wife died of starvation. Luke for revenge had stolen Philip, Wakefield's young son, and sold him to a gypsy named Michael. Michael was rearing the boy until one day

the lad ran away and went to sea.

At the opening of the play, Farm er Wakefield has lost his wealth and Luke has had him sent to jail for a debt of nineteen pounds. Charles Maydew, a prosperous young farmer, gives Clara,

Wakefield's daughter, the money to pay the debt and Wakefield is

se t free.

Squire Chase, Lord of the Manor, wants to seduce Clara so

Luke assists him in his attempt to ambush her as she is returning

home through a wood.

Cla. If I can but get home before the storm increases. That treacherous ‘Squire - this sad world, pi. flash of lightning makes her start back) Bless me, what a flash’ I must put my hands before my eyes; I was always afraid of the lightning.

[.A clap of thunder - Music - Luke rushes forward, and seizes her in his arms - she screams, and struggles with him - the ‘Squire is taking her from him when Philip re -enters - Lightning!

Phi. What ship ahoy! Sheer off, there! pie knocks Luke down with a cudgel, who falls senseless; then grapples the 'Squire by the throat! Slip your cable, my girl, and stand out to sea! the lubbers shan’t grapple you. 80

pThunder - exit Clara, L. - toe 'Squire struggles with Philip, and runs off, pursued by him, R. - The thunder continues, and the drop f a l l s X ^

2John B. Buckstone, Luke the Labourer (London: Samuel French, n. d.), p. 27.

As toe second act begins, it is the next morning and Luke is at the alehouse getting ready to drown his sorrows. Philip

enters and recognizes Luke as one of those he grappled with the night before. Luke also recognizes Philip as the one who hit him

over the head and later discovers that Philip is Wakefield's lost

son. This discovery infuriates Luke who decides to have his

final revenge by murdering Wakefield.

Meanwhile, Philip proceeds to Wakefield's house where he

is welcomed for having saved Clara. Philip tells the Wakefield

family that he has met their son, Philip, and that he is alive.

After an evening of celebrating this news, Philip goes to bed in

Farm er Wakefield's bed without revealing himself.

Luke climbs through a window into Wakefield's bedroom

where Philip is asleep and levels a pistol at him, thinking him

to be Wakefield. Just as Luke is ready to fire, a gypsy enters

the window, dislodges Luke from his seat and throws him into

toe room. The pistol goes off in the air and Philip is awakened.

He seizes Luke and a second pistol goes off in the struggle. 81

Wakefield, his wife, Clara, Charles, Michael, and other gypsies enter. The following dialogue ensues:

Wak. Luke, what be the meaning of this?

Mic. Stop - hear old Gipsy Mike: - Master Luke stole away your boy, and sold him to me; I took care of him till one day -

Phi. He ran away, and went to sea - I am that boyT^~

Sjbid., p. 46.

As the others register their surprise, Luke struggles with

Philip and succeeds in drawing a third pistol which he aims at

Wakefield. Philip thrusts back his arm and Luke, receiving the shot, falls dead. The play ends as Philip is embraced by his mother and father.

Historical and Critical Comments

Luke the Labourer was first performed at the Adelphi

Theatre in London on October 17, 1826. 4 The cast for the

^AHardyce Nicoll, .A History of English Drama, 1660-1900 (2d ed.; Cambridge: University Press, 1955), IV, 273. original performance included the following:^

^Buckstone, op. cit., p. 7. 82

Squire Chase, Lord of the M anor ...... M r. F o ster Wakefield, a decayed F arm er ...... Mr. Elliott Charles Maydew, a young Farm er Mr. S. Smith Luke the Labourer...... M r. T erry Philip, a Sailor ...... Mr. T. P. Cooke Bobby Trot, a Country L ad...... Mr. Salter Michael, an old Gipsy ...... Mr. Sanders Dick, a Postilion ...... Mr. Lamert Thomas, landlord of the King’s Head ...... Mr. Phillips

Dame Wakefield...... M rs. Daly Clara, her daughter ...... Miss Boden Jenny, a country g irl ...... Mrs. H. Hughes

Buckstone was not recognized as the author of the play because the manager, Daniel Terry, had lost the playwright's name and address.

Terry, however, had perceived the suitability of the drama and produced it. Buckstone was later identified as the author and a year later played the part of Bobby Trot at the Adelphi. 6

®Sir Leslie Stephen and Sir Sidney Lee (eds.), Dictionary of National Biography (London: Oxford University Press, 1917), HI, 217.

The play became quite popular and was performed many times both in England and the United States during the next thirty-five years. Odell, in his Annals of the New York Stage, cites over forty-five performances of Luke the Labourer in the New York 83 theatres from 1827 until 1865. The play was first presented in

New York at the Park Theatre on February 17, 1827. ^

^George C. D. Odell, Annals of the New York Stage (New York: Columbia University Press, 1928), HI, 245.

Criticism of performances of this play are not readily available. The Athenaeum, which reviewed most of Bucks tone's plays from 1830 on, makes no mention of this play. The Examiner does not mention the play until the second performance at the

Adelphi on October 1, 1827, when the season opened. 8 However,

8The Examiner, XX, No. 1027 (Oct. 7, 1827), 630. no review appears in the notice. Other periodicals which seem­ ingly should have reviewed this play either failed to do so or issues containing references are missing and unavailable. The fact that

Luke the Labourer was written early in Buckstone's career when he was stilt relatively unknown could be a reason for the lack of coverage of this play.

There were two writers whose criticism of early performances are available. One, identified only by the initials "D - G, " claims that Luke is a rustic of strong mind and stronger passions who

"might have been virtuous; but who, forced from the right path by 84 the vigor of his fate, becomes idle, hopeless, and depraved. "9

^Buckstone, o jd . cit., p. 6.

"D - G" further states:

The errors of Luke are to be traced to this common source [drunkenness); for though not an habitual drunkard, he was, by his own confession, an occasional tippler; and this character being incautiously - perhaps harshly - fixed on him by his master, he becomes idle, for nobody will employ him; and, as evil habits take still deeper root in idleness, Luke, the Labourer sinks into that wretched class of beings which society rejects as a burden and a pest. The picture that he draws of his destitution, and the death of his wife - of his bitter agony and revenge, is truly heart-rending; and, while it holds out a warning to the peasant against the indulgence of criminal excess, it offers a lesson to prosperity not to trifle with the poor man’s only hope and dependance - his character. •‘•0

IQtbid.

The reviewer cites the drama as both "pleasing, and well written.

It is not taken from the French, but is entirely original.

n Ibid.

The review ends with complimentary remarks about the acting of

Mr. Terry as Luke, T. P. Cooke as Philip, and Mr. Salter as

Bobby Trot. In this review, "D - G" states that Luke’s motivation

for his vices can be traced to his drunkenness which was the parent

of his poverty and actions. 85

A later writer, also anonymous, suggests that this conclusion was a great mistake. He believes that Luke was depraved both by hereditary disposition and education and suggests that Luke would have grossly ill-treated his wife had she lived. He claims that the drunkenness motivation is a result of misinterpretation of the role of Luke. His criticism (which appears in a prompt book for a later production of the play) follows in part:

There is scarcely a drama in the English language in which the characters are more faithfully pourtrayed rsifl or which excites truer feelings of sympathy in the audience, then "Luke the Labourer. " We have all of us met some such characters; they are not visionary beings, built up in the clouds by the disordered imaginings of a disease or perverted mind. No.1, they are beings of this earth; and so close is the afinity fsicf between their feelings and our own, that we incontinently follow them in all their movements, and sympathise with them in all their feelings.

l^Luke the Labourer, Courtesy New York Public Library. OSU Film No. P 1335, p. 3.

This writer claims "there is no character, however depraved, from

which some good feelings may not occasionally be elicited. Mr.

Buckstone has with great tact availed himself of this knowledge in

depicting Luke. "13 g e continues:

13Ibid.

The only bright spot in his [Luker0 character, is his affection for his wife; and this has been made the 86

means of calling into action its darker shades. Some critics have thought that Luke was goaded into his horrible revenge, consequence of drunkenness succeed­ ing the death of his wife, which death he imputed to Farmer Wakefield who discharged him for negligence, etc. This is a great mistake; and it is probably because many actors have taken the same view, that so few have succeeded in their impersonations of the character. Luke was, no doubt, depraved both by hereditary dis­ position and education; and notwithstanding that his finer sensibilities were aroused by seeing his wife perishing of want, (why did he not share with her the like fate: why was not he also starved?) there is no doubt he would have grossly ill-treated her, had she lived. I4

14Ibid.

This writer also believes Mr. Terry to have been the only actor who thoroughly personified Luke and blames other actors1 misunderstanding of the part as the cause of this mistaken idea of Luke's revenge.

The Significance of the Play

Mr. Buckstone wrote Luke the Labourer early in his career and the play was performed when he was only twenty-four years of age. It is interesting to note that one of his first plays was also one of his most important. The play is cited as one which helped to establish the domestic melodrama in England. Doctor McLeod 87 claims that Luke the Labourer was the first thoroughly English melodrama of the domestic type. 15 Nicoll, writing in his Early

l^McLeod, unpublished thesis: "French Influence on English Drama during the First Forty Years of the Nineteenth Century" (Harvard University, 1914), p. 65, as cited in Ernest B. Watson, Sheridan to Robertson (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1926), p. 355.

Nineteenth-Century Drama, also cites the significance of this play and its new trend:

The domestic melodrama, too, must be held responsible for a further change of tone, scenes such as those presented in Buckstone's Luke the Labourer (Adel. 1826) calling for a very different setting than had been accorded to the "genteel" comedies of the eighteenth century. In every way we see an approach towards modern ideas and modern con­ ventions. It is in this period that the detailed "accuracy" of later producers found, if not its birth, at least its boyhood. 16

ISNicoll, op. cit. , p. 38.

Most of the early melodramas performed in England seldom reflected the English scene at all but more often depicted some remote European setting. They were largely patterned after the romantic effects and bits of farce of the French or the sentimen­ talities and vulgarities of the German melodramas.

In writing Luke the Labourer, with an English setting,

Buckstone was one of the first to experiment with this new and refined type of domestic melodrama which was marked with more 88 realistic tendencies. This type of melodrama attempted to domesti­ cate or civilize the situations and characters which varied from the standard type.

In some ways Luke the Labourer did follow the standard melodramatic pattern. For example, Clara was nearly seduced by the wicked squire who was in league with Luke. Charles Maydew, the noble hero, came just in time to save her and her father from ruin. This is in the regular melodramatic strain but the presentation of Luke is not. Nicoll states that the latter "shows inventiveness on the part of the dramatist and makes ample atonement for the poverty of the rest.

17Ib id ., p. 117.

In spite of much poverty-stricken dialogue, there is a new

treatment which calls attention to the characterization of Luke, who, although the villain, is presented in an interesting manner.

Luke’s character is treated as an individual rather than the stock villain of the standard melodrama which is a type. Luke, a

creature of evil circumstances and the victim of drink, is given a definite motive for his attempt to ruin Farmer Wakefield. Luke's 89 own account of his wife’s death is rather effective and deserves particular attention:

Luke: . . . at last all things went cross; - and at one time, when a bit hadn’t been in my mouth for two days, I sat thinking, wi’ my wife in my arms - she were ill, very ill - I saw her look at me wi' such a look as I shall never forget - she laid hold o’ this hand, and, putting her long thin fingers all around it, said "Luke, would na’ the farmer give you sixpence if he thought I were dying o’ want?" I said I’d try once more - I got up, to put her in a chair, when she fell, stone dead, down at my feet.’

Cla: Oh Luke.’ - for mercy’s sake, no more - for­ give him.’ ,

Luke: (After a pause~J I were then quite ruin’d. I felt alone in the world. I stood looking on her white face near an hour, and did not move from the spot an inch; but, when I did move, it were wi’ my fist clenched in the air, while my tongue, all parch’d and dry, curs’d a curse, and swore that, if I had not my revenge, I wish’d I might fall as stiff and as dead as she that lay before me. 18

18]3uckstone, op. cit. , p. 21.

This domestic type of melodrama later came to be known as the "Adelphi drama" because it was at this theatre where it was first brought forth and developed. Buckstone, Jerrold, and

Fitzball were the principal authors. 19 other popular productions

l^Watson, op. cit. , p. 355. 90 of this type included Jerrold’s Black-Eyed Susan and Buckstone's

The Wreck Ashore, The Green Bushes, and The Flowers of the

F o re s t.

Aspects of Staging

Of the three pro rapt books of Luke the Labourer which were examined in the course of this study, only one^O kas g^y prompter’s

20Luke the Labourer, Courtesy New York Public Library. OSU Film No. P. 321. notes which are of value to the researcher in his attempt to recon­ struct the manner in which the production was staged. It is this script upon which the following analysis depends. Unfortunately, the prompter did not record the grooves in which the flats and wings were placed. The prompter did record enough stage directions that a reconstruction of the staging was possible when the directions were coupled with a knowledge of the general staging practices of the period.

The nature and placement of scenery

This production of Luke the Labourer was played in eleven scenes, five in the first act and six in the second. From deductions made from stage directions and other notations in the prompt book, the stage positions of the scenery appear to have been placed in 91 three sets of grooves. Although the play is reconstructed with its settings placed in three grooves, it is possible that the play could have been staged using the second, third, and fourth grooves, with the first set of grooves open to give added depth to all of the scenes.

However, there was no evidence to ascertain that such a plan was used.

Act I, Scene 1. —The opening scene of the play was described as “A Village, with Distant View of the City of York;. - Harvest

Carts in the background - Peasants discovered, celebrating the

Harvest Home. - An Alehouse at the side R. S. E. [right second entrancej and Luke seated at the door, smoking and disregarding their actions. " On page fourteen of the script, the prompter divided the first scene of the printed script in two with the entrance of Bobby Trot. A note in the script, "Change here, " with a standard warning symbol indicates the division. "Scene 2" and a note, "Thout Wood, " appear on the interleaf opposite the page of script.

Figure 3 shows the placement of the flats and wings for the first two scenes. Several things lead to the assumption that the back scene for the first scene (flats B) was placed in the first channel of the third set of grooves. First, the prompter had a note that the villagers went off "Left Upper Entrance" (there was 92

B View of city flats (Scene 1)

D Tree Winer (Sc. 1) Tree Wing

G Wood Flat (Scene 2) A /= r Wood Flat (Scene 2)

I Tree Wing (Sc. 2) ______T ree Winer__ J Ext. Wing (Sc. 1)______Ext._ Wincf_

P Tree Wing (Sc. 1 and 2) Tree Wing

------Proscenium Arch------

Fig. 3. —Placement of Flats and Wings for the First Two Scenes at the Start of the Play. 93 also a note that Charles entered through the "Left Upper Entrance"), suggesting that an extreme depth was used. Second, the opening scene description calls for a distant "View of the City of York"; a deep stage setting would help create this illusion. Third, although the word "dance" does not appear, the villagers are "singing and celebrating, ” indicating movement which could require a deep stage, especially since there are also harvest carts in the back­ ground. Two warning notes ("See Gun Ready to fire Left Upper

Entrance" and cue marks for "Gun fired L.U.E. ") also indicate that the back scene was in the third groove. The squire also used this entrance as opposed to the "R" in the script which was deleted.

A final clue that the third groove was used for the opening scene is that it follows a usual pattern developed for changing scenes. 21

21see Figure 2, p. 16.

Figure 3 shows the placement of the wings (D, J, and P) which accompany flats B, the view of the city, in the third groove. Wings

D and P were probably stock tree wings while wings J were exterior building or house wings also taken from stock. The script calls for an alehouse door at the R. S. E. (Right Second Entrance—usually indicative of the second groove) and since no one enters or exits

through this door, it may be assumed that it was represented by an 94 exterior wing and that a similar exterior wing was on stage left.

This type of wing would also be necessary in the second groove to represent the "village" as called for in the opening description of the scene.

The set change between scenes 1 and 2 would have been effected by two stage hands running on flats G (see Figure 3) in the first channel of the second groove, while two other hands removed wings J revealing tree wings I and the second scene could proceed immediately.

Act I, Scene 2. —The placement of the flats and wings for this scene and the scene shift have already been described above.

Evidence of the division of the printed script is further substan­ tiated by the fact that entrances are changed. For example, Luke’s entrance is at "L. I.E. " instead of the original "L. U .E., " which would have been used had the scene not been divided. Since this

scene was turned into a “wood, " it logically and practically follows

that it would have been played in the same groove as Scene 5 which

is also a wood. Stage directions for Scene 5 indicate that the second

groove was used for the back scene. Both the flats and wings were probably taken from stock since a simple "wood setting" was all that

was required. Figure 4 shows the placement of the flats G and

wings I and P for this scene in addition to those for the next scene, 95

_A______Wakefield's Kitchen Flats (Sc._ 3)______k z z.—.~z ~ ~------y_

C Int. Wing (Sc. 3) Int. Wing (Sc. 3)

~ - - - - r 7

G______Wood Scene Flats (Sc. 2)______H Int. Wing (Sc. 3) Int. Winn (Sc. 3) I Tree Wing (Sc. 2)______Tree Wing (Sc, 2)

O Int. Wing (Sc. 3) ______Int. Wing (Sc. 3) P Tree Wing (Sc. 2) ______Tree Wing (Sc. 2)

Proscenium Arch------

Fig. 4. —Placement of Flats and Wings for Scene 2 and Scene 3. flats A and wings C, H, and O. To dissolve into the third scene would have required two stage hands to pull off flats G in the

second groove revealing flats A and wings C in the third groove.

The arrows in the third set of grooves indicate where the flats

and wings of the first scene were, having been removed during

the playing of the second scene. Other stage hands would have

removed the tree wings I and P, revealing interior wings H and O.

The third scene was ready to play.

Act I, Scene 3. —This scene, described simply as “A

Kitchen, " is marked as Scene 3 instead of the printed "Scene II"

due to the division of the first scene. It seems logical to assume

that this scene's back flats would be in the third set of grooves, the

same as that for Scene 1; otherwise there is no reasonable explana­

tion for dividing the first scene. The stage crew probably needed

time to set up the kitchen scene. In the playwright's direction

"Enter Dame Wakefield, " the prompter blacked out the "Enter, "

which would indicate a discovery. A discovery further indicates

that this scene would have to be deeper than the preceding one which

has already been established as having its back scene in the second

groove. Act H, Scenes 2 and 4, also take place in Wakefield's

kitchen. In both of these scenes there is evidence that the back

scenes were placed in the third groove. All three scenes call for 97 a door in the stage left flat. In Act II, Scene 2, there is a prompter's note "Ready for Shout behind door flat, " and then on the next page the shout is cued, "Sound Ye]l L. U. E. " This upper entrance cue, indicating the use of a deep stage, further streng­ thens the argument that the third groove was used for this scene.

Another significant observation is the fact that at the end of each of these three scenes is a notation ("the scene closes" or "the

scene shuts them in”) indicating an alternation to a more shallow

scene. No other scene in the play has a similar note and no other

scene alternates to a more shallow scene except after the last

scene of the first act and the act curtain closes it. It is also

important to observe here that this kitchen setting in the third

groove can remain undisturbed for the remainder of the play when

it will be used again for Scenes 2 and 4 of the second act.

Act I, Scene 4_. —This scene is described as "An Apartment

at the 'Squires. " Once again, the simple description seems to

indicate that stock scenery was used. Figure 5 shows the place­

ment of the apartment flats M and the wing flats O. Perhaps the

interior wings used in the preceding scene in the first groove were

retained for this scene. To alternate to this scene from the kitchen

one would simply require two stage hands to run on the apartment

flats. 98

_A______Kitchen Flats (Sc. 3)

C Int. Wing (Sc. 3) Int. Winer (Sc. 3)

H Int. Wing (Sc. 3) Int. Winer (Sc. 3)

M ______Apartment Flats (Sc. 4)

O Int. Winer (3c. 3 and 4) Int. Wing (Sc. 3-4)

Proscenium Arch

Fig. 5. —Placement of Flats and Wings for Scene 3 and Scene 4. 99

The shallowness of the stage setting is indicated by the fact that all stage directions are for either "R" and "L" or "R. I.E. ” and ”L. I.E. " The back scene had a door in the right side; several notes refer to the closet door "D.R. F. " (door, right flat). It also follows that the back scene for this setting had to be in the first groove if the preceding one was in the third groove and the next scene has its back scene in the second groove.

Act I, Scene 5. —Scene 5 is called "A Wood. *' It seems practical and natural for this wood scene to be staged with the same set of scenery and in the same groove as that for Scene 2.

Figure 6 shows the wood scene G, I, and P with the back scene in the second groove and the preceding apartment scene M and O with its back scene in the first groove. The wood scene in the second groove was set up while the apartment scene was playing. To change scenes, stage hands ran off flats M and ran on tree wings

P. A lighting or special effects cue for lightning at "R. 2.E. "

(Right Second Entrance) also helps to verify that the back scene was in the second groove. Logical deduction insists that the scene be played either here or in the third groove and there is no evidence of the latter. A prompter's note indicates that an act drop was used between the first and second acts. This would have permitted scene changes for the next act. 100

G ______Wood Scene Flats (Sc. 5)

I Tree Wing (Sc. 5) Tree Winer (Sc. 5)

M ------Apartment Flats (Sc. 4)

Q Int. Wing (Sc. 4) Int. Wing (Sc. 4) P Tree Wing (Sc. 5) Tree Wing (Sc. 5)

Proscenium Arch

Fig. 6. —Placement of Flats and Wings for Scene 4 and Scene 5. 101

Act H, Scene 1. —"Interior of a Village Alehouse - Jugs,

Horns, Tables and a Stool." Although one might think a deeper setting would be needed for this scene, there is no evidence to support an assumption that such was used. The fact that Wake­ field's kitchen is the next scene, to be played in the deeper groove, suggests a shallow setting for H, 1. All directions for entrances and exits are either "R" or through the "L. D. F. " (left door flat). A warning at the end of the scene ("Look out for clear") could indicate that a quick clearing of the tables and stool was needed in alternating to a deeper scene.

It is quite possible that the same scenery used for the squire's apartment in Act I, Scene 4, was used for this alehouse scene. If stock scenery was used, which was often the case, perhaps all that was done was to switch the flats so that the right door flat from the apartment scene would now be on the left side as indicated by the script (see Figure 7, M and O). This could have easily been done between the acts. However, if the theatre where

the play was produced had enough stock scenery, probably a separate set of flats and wings would have been used. (Figure 7,

L and N). There is no evidence to support either plan. Regardless

of which set of flats and wings were used, evidence supports the

notion that the scene's back scene was in the first groove. To 102

L Ale-house Flats M Apartment Flats N Ale H. Wing Ale H. Wing 0 Int. Wing Int. Wing

Proscenium Arch

Fig. 7. --Two Possible Placements of Flats and Wings for Act H, Scene 1. 103 dissolve to the next scene, either flats L or flats M would be run off and wings O would either remain or be run on if the optional alehouse wings N had been used. With the first groove flats removed, the next scene could continue immediately.

Act II, Scene 2. —A note, "Wakefield's cottage as before, " clearly indicates that this scene should be played with the same scenery and in the same place as that for Scene 3 of Act i. Evi­ dence from this scene and Scene 4 of Act II has already been cited in helping to determine that the back scene was in the third groove.

(See Figure 5 for placement of flats and wings A, C, H, and O for

this scene.) To alternate to the next scene would require either flats (F or G) in Figure 8 to be run on and wings (I and P) to be placed in front of wings (H and O).

Act H, Scene 3. —This scene, "A View of the Country, " probably was placed in the second groove and co uld have been

the same scenery as used in the previous two wood scenes (Figure

8, units G, I, and P). Again, if the theatre had an abundance of

exterior scenery, a different set of flats could have been used.

(Figure 8, flats F.) Stage directions for sound, entrances, and

exits are similar to those of the wood scenes, which helps establish

this scene in the second groove. To change to the kitchen scene 104

------

F View of Country Flats G Wood Scene Flats H Int. Wing (Sc. 2 and 4) Int. Wing I Tree Wing (Sc. 3) T ree Wing

O Int. Wing- (Sc. 2 and 4) Int. Wincf P Tree Wing (Sc. 3) Tree Wing

------Proscenium Arch------

Fig. 8. --Two Possible Placements of Flats with Wings for Act n, Scene 3. 105 again simply required flats F or G, whichever was used, and wings

I and P to be removed.

Act H, Scene 4. —This is Wakefield's kitchen again and an alternation to the third groove as previously established seems logical and in order. The scene is shut in when flats K and wings

P (see Figure 9) are run on for the next scene.

Act n, Scene 5. —This scene is described as "Stage dark -

The back part of Wakefield's Cottage. - A light is seen through a window in the flat. " Figure 9 shows the placement of the flats and wings in the first groove, K and P. This short scene, just one half page of script, obviously was of shallow depth. Luke enters

**R,,f is followed by three gypsies as he crosses the stage, and exits "L" after declaring his intentions to murder Wakefield. The scene was just long enough for the stage hands to set up the last scene in the second groove. The final alternation (see Figure 10) was achieved by removing the cottage flats K and revealing the bed­ room flats E and wings H in the second groove. Tree wings P were run off exposing interior wings O and the final scene was ready for action.

Act H, Scene 6. —The placement of the flats and wings (E, H, and O) for the last scene, "A Bed-room in the Cottage, " is shown in Figure 10. Although it is possible the scene could have been 106

K______Back of Cottage Flats (Sc. 5)

O Int. Wing (Sc. 4 and 6) Int. Win a P Tree Wing (Sc. 5) Tree Wing

------Proscenium Arch------

Fig. 9. —Placement of Flats and Wings for Act II, Scene 5. 107

E______Bedroom F lats (Sc. 6)

H Int. Wing (Sc. 6)______Int. Wing

K £------Back of Cottage Flats (Sc. 5) }

O Int. Wing (Sc. 6) Int. Wind (Sc. 6)

Proscenium Arch ------

Fig. 10. - -Placement of Flats and Wings for Act II, Scenes 5 and 6. 108 played with the back scene in the third groove, it appears more likely that the back scene was in the second groove. This theory is subscribed to by two prompter^ notes referring to a door at the "U.S. E." (right, second entrance, usually indicative of the second groove). The scene also calls for a window in the flat which did not appear in the kitchen scenes. The fact that early in the scene Philip seizes Luke and drags him to the front of the stage, where the rest of this climatic scene is played, seems to indicate that a deeper setting was not needed or desired.

Depths of scenes and types of alternations

A summary of the preceding analysis reveals that of the eleven scenes in this production of Luke the Labourer, three were placed relatively far down stage (first grooves); four were placed in the moderate depth (second grooves); and four were placed at the deeper depth (third grooves). Figure 11 shows the entire schematic plan of flats and wings in their respective channels and grooves when used. The kitchen flats (A) were used three times. The wood scene flats (G) were used at least twice and could have been used a third time if flats F were not used as pointed out in the discussion of

Act n, Scene 3. The same situation is found in the first groove, where the apartment flats (M) may have been used twice, to the 109

A Wakefield's Kitchen Flats B View of C ity Flats

C Interior Wing ______Interior Wing D T ree Wing ______T ree Wing

E Wakefield's Bedroom Flats F View of Country F lats G Wood Scene Flats H Interior Wing Interior Wing I Tree Wing Tree Wing J Ale House Wing Exterior Wing

K Back of Cottage Flats L Ale House Flats M Squire's Apartment Flats N Ale H. Int. W.______Ale H. Int. W. 0 Interior Wing ______Interior Wing P Tree Wing ______T ree Wing

------Proscenium Arch ------

Fig. 11 .--Schematic Plan of Flats and Wings in the Staging of Luke the Labourer. 110 exclusion of the alehouse flats (L). The accompanying wings for

the various scenes were shuttled in and out as previously explained

and illustrated.

With regard to the way in which the scenes were alternated at scene shift, we find that two of the ten shifts were deep to-

shallow alternations, two were deep-to-moderate, one was

moderate-to-shallow, two were shallow-to-moderate, one was

shallow-to-deep, and two were moderate-to-deep.

Lighting and special effects

The only special effects employed in this production were

the lightning and thunder in the last scene of the first act. There

were no prompt notes to indicate how the effect was created. The

four other lighting cues included two cues for the stage to be

darkened at the beginning of two scenes; one for the light to go out

in the bedroom window in Scene 5 of Act II; and the other for the

lights to come up when Dame Wakefield entered with a "light” in

the last scene of the play. There was no indication as bo what

type of light was used by Dame Wakefield. Conclusions

The foregoing analysis of the prompt book for Luke the

Labourer has led to the following conclusions regarding certain aspects of the staging used for the production:

1. The scenery used in the production was probably

stock scenery. The simple statements and descrip­

tions of scenes rather than elaborate descriptions or

detailed drawings tend to verify this fact.

2. All of the scenes were made up of flats, wings, and

probably borders, although no mention is made of any

specific piece of scenery except "door in flat" and

"window in flat."

3. There was no evidence of set pieces used in the pro­

duction.

4. Furniture and properties were kept to a minimum with

just enough to meet the demands of the script. The

few chairs, tables, and glasses which needed to be

moved were removed while scenes were playing in

more shallow depths. Only one scene, the alehouse

scene (played in the first groove), required a fast

change of furniture and there was a prompter's note

warning about this quick change. 5. There was no spectacle other than the thunder and

lightning in one short scene.

6. The scenes were relatively equally divided among

three sets of grooves.

7. The alternations of scene shifts were rather simple

and followed general staging practices of the period.

8. Buckstonefs inexperience was evident in his failure

to provide a necessary shallow scene between the first

two scenes of the printed script which the prompter

rectified by dividing the first scene in two. CHAPTER IV

AN ANALYSIS OF THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST

The Flowers of the Forest was written by Buckstone at the peak of his writing career. Several theatre historians agree it was one of his most successful pieces. The following analysis of this play will include (1) History of the play, (2) Story of the play, and (3) Aspects of staging.

History of the Play

The play was first performed at the Adelphi Theatre in

London in 1847 with the foHowing cast;l

IjohnB. Buckstone, The Flowers of the Forest (New York: Samuel French, n.d.), p. 2.

Captain Hugh Lavrock...... Mr. C. J. Smith Alfred, his friend ...... Mr. Boyce Leybourne, friend of the Lavrocks Mr. Worrell Linton, friend of the Lavrocks . . . M r. M organ Mayfield, friend of the Lavrocks . Mr. Aldridge Cheap John, an auctioneer ...... Mr. Wright Headborough ...... Mr. Freeborn Gilbert, a gamekeeper ...... Mr. Wayne Lady A g n es ...... Miss E. Harding A b ig ail...... M iss M. Taylor W inifred...... Miss Taylor

113 114

GYPSIES - The Italian Tribe Ishmal, or the W olf ...... Mr. O. Smith Pharos, his companion ...... Mr. Glennaire Cynthia, daughter of Ishmal ...... Madame Celeste

GYPSIES - The English Tribe Lemuel, a Gypsy b o y ...... Miss Woolgar The Kinchin, a Gypsy Thief ...... Mr. Paul Bedford The N im m e r ...... Mr. Sanders R euben...... Master Sidney Hagar, an old Gypsy ...... M rs. Laws E lsp y ...... Mdlle. Louise Starlight Bess, fortuneteller ...... Mrs. Fitzwilliam

It was in this production that Madame Celeste, one of the outstand­ ing actresses of the period, scored heavily in one of her "finest opportunities. ”2 Mrs. Fitzwilliam*s Starlight Bess was also

^Henry Barton Baker, History of the London Stage and Its Famous Players (1576-1903) (London: George Routledge and Sons, Ltd., 1904), p. 427. considered one of the top performances of her career. The play quickly became popular in America with successful performances in Boston at the National Theatre in 1847 and 1855, the Museum

Theatre in 1847, the Howard Theatre in 1849 and 1855, and at the

Bowery Theatre in New York in 1852. 3

3Buckstone, loc. cit. 115

Story of the Play

The various settings for the play are in the woods, mountains, the Manor House of the Lavrock estate, and the marketplace near

Keswick in Cumberland County, England. As the play opens,

Captain Hugh Lavrock and Gilbert, a gamekeeper, are hunting in a wood. Lemuel, a gypsy boy hiding in the wood, is spoiling the captain’s hunt by shooting first before Lavrock can fire. The gamekeeper catches Lemuel and an argument ensues. Lavrock, insulted by Lemuel’s offensive remarks, whips the boy with his riding whip and leaves for the Manor House for his sister*s wedding.

Lemuel threatens revenge.

Alfred, the bridegroom, arrives. Lady Agnes, the bride, has completed her dressing for the wedding and the wedding party leaves for the country church. As the party approaches the church and is walking through the churchyard, Cynthia, a gypsy, rises from a tombstone. Seeing Alfred, she embraces him and looks affectionately in his face. Alfred is pleased to see Cynthia because she once saved bis life in Italy many years ago. Lady Agnes is embarrassed; Lavrock is outraged and announces that the wedding is off. Without allowing Alfred to make an explanation, Lavrock challenges him to a duel in defense of his sister's honor. 116

Lemuel is hunting in the mountain pass when Lavrock arrives for the duel. Lemuel hides and is about to kill Lavrock in revenge for the whipping he received the day before when he decides to wait and see what Lavrock is about to do. Alfred enters and the

two take their places for the duel. As the pair start to take ten paces, Lemuel aims his gun at Lavrock. Alfred, who is determined not to fight the duel, fires his pistol in the air at the fourth pace.

At the same instant, Lemuel fires, hitting Lavrock. The captain

is convinced that Alfred shot him before time. Alfred pleads his

innocence but to no avail. Lady Agnes and others come upon the

scene and Lavrock, before dying, accuses Alfred as his assassin.

Alfred is taken and locked in a room in Lavrock Hall.

Cynthia cannot believe Alfred to be guilty. She and Starlight Bess

scheme a way for Bess to get into the room where Alfred is being

held prisoner. Bess succeeds and lets Cynthia in through a

window. Cynthia wants Alfred to go with her as she believes they

can find proof of his innocence among the gypsies of her tribe.

Alfred refuses to go as his escape would surely convict him. He

leaves with Cynthia after she promises to let him return before

morning.

Wolf, Cynthia’s father, has expressed his disgust with his

daughter's interest in Alfred since it has turned her heart away 117 from her own people. When he sees Cynthia approaching with

Alfred, he goes to arouse the authorities and notify them of

Alfred's escape. The authorities come, seize Alfred, and take him away.

In the meantime, Lemuel's conscience has begun to bother him. He has nightmares and talks in his sleep. He finally admits his guilt to his sweetheart, Starlight Bess. Cynthia, who has been lurking nearby, hears Lemuel's confession. She grabs him and

drags him away to the authorities. Alfred is released and Lemuel

is sentenced to death.

Cynthia is now an outcast among the gypsies. Her father

denounces her for betraying one of their own "race. " Cynthia begs

forgiveness, claiming that she always was true to her gypsy vow

and never "sought to change the color of my blood. " Wolf agrees

to pardon her and take her back on one condition. Alfred is sleeping

in one of the gypsy tents and she must kill him in revenge for their

loss of Lemuel. Alfred had come searching for Cynthia to thank her

for saving his life again. He had been told to wait in the tent.

Cynthia reluctantly agrees to do their bidding and takes the knife.

She bends over Alfred and looks intently at his features; she sobs

bitterly; then, with a sudden effort, raises the knife and plunges it

into her own heart. The loud screams of the women who rush forward 118 awaken Alfred. Cynthia crawls on her knees to Alfred, kisses his hand, then springs up and with a shriek falls dead. The final action was accompanied by tremulous music, heavy lightning, and thunder in the true melodramatic tradition.

Aspects of Staging

The prompt book chosen for this analysis was a George

Becks' production of Buckstone's play4 as it was performed in

4The Flowers of the Forest. George Becks, Prompter. Courtesy New York Public Library. OSU Film No. P. 309.

Boston about 1860.

The nature and placement of scenery

Fortunately, the prompter for this production of The Flowers of the Forest was extremely careful in recording the groove positions in a scene plot on several interleaves at the beginning of the script.

The play script, itself, is very clear with regard to the sequence of scenes. Moreover, the physical action of the play is quite distinct, either through the playwright's underlined descriptions or through the prompter’s notations.

It is possible through a careful analysis of the facts gleaned from this prompt book to determine where most of the scenic 119 elements were placed upon the stage, and the nature of each.

Act I, Scene 1. —The first scene of The Flowers of the

Forest was described by the playwright simply as "A Wood near

the Cumberland Hills. " Here, as in several scenes of Luke the

Labourer, the lack of detail in the scenic description leads one

to conclude that stock scenery was employed. Surely woods and

landscapes (of which there are eight in this play) would be stock

items of scenery in most theatres of the period.

The prompter noted that the back scene was to be placed in

the second groove. He further noted the existence of a "cut

wood" set piece at the ”R and L 1. E ” (right and left first entrance).

Figure 12 shows the position of the wood (G) with reference to all

the other flat elements used in the first act.

The addition of the set piece at the right and left first

entrances was not specifically required by the action. It seems

to have been added for no other reason than to dress the stage. In

addition to these set pieces, the side pieces were probably stock

tree wings located as shown in Figure 12 in the first and second

wing grooves (I and L).

Act I, Scene 2. —Figure 12 shows the placement of the flats

(D) for the second scene of the play. Their position in the third 120

Church and Churchyard (Sc. 4)

B Ext. Wing______Ext. Wing

Chapel Set Piece (Sc. 4) ~ C Ext. Wing (Sc. 4)

D ______Boudoir in Lavrock Hall (Sc. 2)

E Int. Wing "int. Wing" F Ext. Wing Ext. Wing

G Wood (Sc. 1)

H Int. Wing Int. Wing I Ext. Wing______Ext. Wing

______Wood (Sc. 3)______

K In t. Wing ______Int. Wing L Ext. Wing______Ext. Wing

Proscenium Arch

Fig. 12. - -Placement of Flats and Wings for Act I of The Flowers of the Forest. 121 groove was noted in the scenic plot and at the opening of the scene by the prompter. Like the previous scene, it appears that this one was composed of stock scenery for the description is simply

"Boudoir in Lavrock Hall. " There was a cue for Agnes to run to the "window, L.F. " (left flat of the back scene) but no evidence to indicate whether the window was practical or just represented on the flat. The action did not require a practical window.

Figure 12 shows the logical location of the wings E, H, and

K used with flats D. Since the first wing channel of the first two grooves were occupied with the exterior tree wings of the first scene, the second wing channels of the first three grooves would have been the logical position for the interior wings of this scene.

Obviously, exterior wings F of the third groove were not put in place until after the playing of the second scene. If the interior flats were of stock scenery, as they almost certainly were, it is

probable that the wings, too, were stock interior wings.

The change from the first scene to the second resulted when

flats G were removed and flats D and wings F were revealed.

Simultaneously, exterior wings I and L were removed, exposing

interior wings H and K as the second scene continued.

Act I, Scene 3. —The prompter noted that the back scene

for the "Wood" was to be placed in the first groove. Figure 12 122 shows the placement of this back scene (J) with the wings (L) which accompany it It is possible that this scene was backed with a drop instead of flats. It was used as a carpenter's scene since it was followed by a more massive stage setting using several set pieces requiring a much deeper stage.

Alternation to Scene 3 was completed when the flats or backdrop J was positioned in the first groove shutting out the bedroom scene. Obviously exterior wings L would have to be run on again to conceal interior wings K in the first groove.

Act I, Scene 4. —The scene change to the fourth and last scene of the first act was a simple procedure as the exterior setting was set up while the third scene was playing in the first groove. The change merely required the removal of back scene

J as shown in Figure 12. The prompter's note places the back scene for Scene 4 in the fifth groove.

The description of this scene, as written by the playwright, includes more detail than any of the previous scenes:

A Country Church and Churchyard, 5 G. A pathway leading to the porch, R.H. 3.E. right hand third entrance ; tombs on R. and L; on the R. H. C. 4. E. is a flat stone, on which a figure, covered by a cloak, is reposing; a group of villagers, in holiday attire, are assembled, in front of the porch; they look towards L. H. 1 E ., and uncover as the wedding party approach. A prompter’s note in the scene plot indicates that the large, flat stone which Cynthia lies on was to be placed center stage rather than in the fourth entrance on the right. A further instruction,

“Set Chapel on Steps R. U. E. [right upper entrance)" tells us that some kind of a set piece was definitely used in the fourth wing groove area for a chapel. The shapes and sizes of the other tombstones are not known. In addition to these massive set pieces, there are a group of villagers on stage when the wedding party of eleven enter. There is little doubt that this scene required considerable space and used the maximum depth available. Figure

12 shows the placement of the back scene A and the side exterior wings B, C, F, I, and L for this setting.

Act H, Scene 1. —The opening scene of the second act was described by the playwright as a "Mountainous Pass. " From the scene plot, the prompter adds "Wood. Rocky Pass. 5 groove.

Bridge up at back from R. to L. Return from L. to C. Practicable

Cut Woods R and L " Figure 13 shows the placement of the flats

(A) and wings (B, E, H, J, and N) for this scene. A deep setting in the fifth groove was required because the bridge and the practical built up mountain path would require considerable space. The extra depth is also needed to handle the crowd of villagers and country people who appear when Lavrock is shot. The scene is closed in 124

A Mountain Pass (Sc. 1 and 7)

B Ext. Wing Ext. Wing

C Antique Room (Sc. 5)

D Int. Wing Int. Wing E Ext. Wing Ext. Wing

F Landscape (Sc. 3)

G Int. Wing H Ext. Wing Ext. Wing

I Int. Wing Int. Wing J Ext. Wing Ext. Wincf

K Exterior of Lavrock Hall (Sc. 4) L A Wood (Sc. 2 and 6)

M Int. Wing Int. Wing N Ext. Wing Ext. Wing

Proscenium Arch

Fig. 13. - -Placement of Flats and Wings for Act II of The Flowers of the Forest. 125 and the second scene continues when a wood back scene is placed in the first groove.

Act H, Scene 2. --Figure 13 shows the placement of the back scene and the wings (L and N) for this scene in the first groove as noted by the prompter. The back scene, if a drop, was probably the same as that used in the first groove for the third scene of the first act.

A lternation to the third scene of the a c t was effected by withdrawing the flats or drop (L) as shown in Figure 13 revealing the next setting's back scene in the third groove (F).

Act H, Scene 3. —The setting for this scene is a "Landscape" and was placed in the third groove. Figure 13 shows the placement of the back scene (F) and the exterior wings (H, J, and N) which complete the setting. The prompter did not note whether the back scene was composed of flats or a drop. There is one piece of evidence which tends to support the idea that flats may have been used. The first scene of the third act is also a landscape but it is staged in the fourth groove. Should landscape flats have been used for the present scene in the third groove, it would have been a rather simple task to place the same flats in the fourth groove when the act curtain was down. Since the position of back drops was usually not changed during a performance, one would sooner believe 126 that flats were used as the back; scene for both landscapes. The medium depth of the third groove was desired for several reasons.

First, there was one large prop, a covered cart, required by the action of the scene. Second, the scene calls for groups of country boys and girls to pass across the stage. Finally, other business such as "fortune telling among the throng" demands extra space for effective staging.

The scene is easily changed by the placement of the back scene for the next setting in the second channel of the first groove.

Act n, Scene 4. —Figure 13 shows the placement of the flats

(K) and wings (N) for the exterior of Lavrock Hall in the first groove. A prompter's note in the scene plot, "L.D.F. Used and backed, " indicates that a practical entrance was used. Since the scene is an exterior and other references in the script refer to the "gate with wicket, L. F ., " one can assume that a gate with wicket appeared in the left flat of the back scene.

This scene served as a carpenter's scene for readying the more elaborate interior setting for the next scene which was placed in the third and fourth grooves. The scene was changed by removing flats L and wings N as shown in Figure 13, revealing

the antique room with its back scene in the fourth groove. 127

Act n, Scene 5. —This scene was described by the play­ wright as follows:

An Antique Room in the Hall, 3 and 4 G. A lat­ ticed window on the L .F ., backed with moonlight, in which is an old window seat; set door, R. H. 2 E .; . . . a recess on the R .F ., with door in it, practical; . . .

The prompterfs note in the scene plot clearly indicates that the set door, referred to in the above description, was to be placed in the right third entrance instead of the right second entrance.

This note further describes the window in the left flat as being

"Gothic, used, backed by tree tops and horizon - platform and step behind window. "

Figure 13 shows the flats of the back scene (C) in the fourth groove. Interior wings D, G, I, and M complete the setting for this scene. Notice there is no interior wing shown on the right side of the stage in the third groove as this is where the set door was placed.

The scene closes with a tableau of Cynthia standing on the edge of the window after Alfred has escaped.

Act n, Scene 6. —This scene, a wood, is the same as that for the second scene of this act. Since it .was also placed in the first groove, one can be reasonably certain that the setting was the sam e for the two scenes. 128

Alternation to this scene was quick; and simple as the wood drop or flats appeared in the first groove and exterior wings (N) were run on concealing the interior wings (M) as shown in Figure

13. Once more, this scene was used as a carpenter's scene to mask the removal of the interior setting as well as to set up the mountain scene again in the fifth groove.

Act IE, Scene 7. —The prom pter's description in the scene plot signifies that the setting for this final scene of the act was the same as that for the first scene of Act II. The only difference was in the placement of the set pieces. The prompter notes that the cut woods were to be placed at the left third and right second entrances. The remainder of the scenic decor would have been made up of the exterior wings in the grooves where there were no set pieces.

Act. EU, Scene 1. —The first scene of the third act of The

Flowers of the Forest was described as a "Landscape. Tent C.

Bank C. " A prompter's note points out that the back scene was in the fourth groove. It seems logical to assume that the flats and wings were the same as for the landscape (Scene 3) in the second act. Figure 14 shows the placement of the scenery (C, D, F, I, and L) for this scene. 129

A Mountain Pass (Sc. 5)

B Ext. Wing______Ext. Wing

C Landscape (Sc. 1)

D Ext. Wing______Ext. Wing

E ______Wood (Sc. 3)

F Ext. Wing______Ext. Wing

_G______Lobby of Court (Sc. 2)

H Int. Wing Int. Wing I Ext. Wing______Ext. Wing

J Moonlight Wood (Sc. 4)

K Int. Wing Int. Wing L Ext. Wing______Ext. Wing

Proscenium Arch

Fig. 14. - -Placement of Flats and Wings for Act IH of The Flowers of the Forest. 130

Act m , Scene 2. —Buckstone originally wrote the play with this scene and the fourth as "The Lobby of a Court of Justice. "

(The third scene was cailed "A Road Side, 1 G. ") In the produc­ tion under study, the third scene was.cut and the second and fourth scenes played uninterrupted as one, positioned in the second groove.

Figure 14 shows the placement of flats (G) and wings (H and K) for the scene.

Alternation to this scene was realized when the lobby flats

(G) closed on the previous scene and wings I and L were removed exposing wings H and K.

Act m , Scene 3. - -This scene was called a wood with its location in the third groove. Figure 14 shows the placement of

the flats (E) and wings (F, I, and L). The scene was changed as

the lobby flats (G) in the second groove were removed at the end of the scene disclosing the wood flats (E). Exterior wings I and L

were run back on concealing the interior wings H and K of the previous scene.

Act III, Scene 4. —The prompter called this scene a "Moon­

light Wood" and placed it in the first groove. In all probability,

the back scene was the same drop used for the first groove wood

scenes of the preceding acts. Figure 14 shows the placement of 131 the drop (J) and wings (L). The scene change was completed by lowering the backdrop J.

Act HI, Scene 5.. —The final scene of the play, as the prompter’s note explains, was the same as that for the first scene of the second act. Figure 14 shows the mountain flats (A) in the fifth groove with the wings CB, D, F, I, and L) which complete the scene. The final scene shift was made when the wood drop (J) was removed, revealing the mountain flats (A) which were put in place during the playing of the fourth scene.

Depths of scenes and types of alternations

A summary of the preceding analysis reveals that of the sixteen scenes in The Flowers of the Forest, five were placed in the firs t se t of grooves; two in the second; three in the third; two in the fourth; and four in the fifth as shown in Figure 15.

With regard to the way in which the scenes were alternated at scene shift, we find that there were eight types of alternations.

They were as follows:

1. Three alternations from the shallow first groove

to the deep fifth groove.

2. One alternation from the shallow first groove to

the medium depth third groove. _A Mountain Pass II, 1 and 7; HE, 5 B Church and Churchyard I, 4

C Ext. Wing______Ext. Wing

D rf Landscape HI, 1 E Antique Room II, 5

F Int. Wing Int. Wing G Ext. Wing Ext. Wing

H Landscape II, 3; and Wood IU, 3 I Boudoir in Lavrock Hall I, 2

J Int. Wing Int. Wing K Ext. Wing _____ Ext. Wing

L Lobby of Court m, 2 M Wood I, 1

N Int. Wing Int. Wing 0 Ext. Wing ■ Ext. Wing

P Exterior of Lavrock Hall 31, 4 0. Wood I. 3; II, 2 and 6; HE, 4

R Int. Wing ______Int. Wing S Ext. Wincf______Ext. Wing

.------Proscenium A rch------

Fig. 15. - -Schematic Plan of Flats, Wings, and Drop Used in the Staging of The Flowers of the Forest. 133

3. One alternation from the shallow first groove to

the moderately deep fourth groove.

4. Two alternations from the moderately shallow

second groove to the medium depth third groove.

5. One alternation from the deep fifth groove to the

shallow first groove.

6. One alternation from the moderately deep fourth

groove to the shallow first groove.

7. One alternation from the moderately deep fourth

groove to the moderately shallow second groove.

8. Three alternations from the medium depth third

groove to the shallow first groove.

Lighting and special effects

There were twenty-two lighting and special effects clues written on the interleaves of the prompt book; by the prompter.

There were four warning or readying cues as "ready lighting" or "Green medium ready C. " Eleven of the cues were for the execution of special effects such as lightning, thunder, or rain.

The remaining seven were general lighting cues - "Lights down at scene change" or "Lights one-half down at rise, work up gradually. " 134

There w ere no directions to indicate exactly how the lightning, thunder, and rain effects were created. Two cues did suggest that calcium was involved, at least for the heavy lightning. There was one warning cue, "Calcium ready, " and later on the same page appeared the cue, "Calcium on - Heavy Lightning. M

Music and sound

Music and sound were very important in this production of

The Flowers of the Forest. The prompter marked forty-two music cues which ranged from a simple cue, "music" (indicating where it was to start), to a more descriptive cue, "Music - signal of danger, Tremolo fsic] till curtain. " There were five cues calling for a tremulous effect. Other music cues specified hunting music, cautious music, or bold music. Music was also worked in with certain business. One cue called for a "Chord” when Wolf touched

Cynthia. Finally, there were two cues for a specific piece of music, "The Poachers. " The music should have been very appro­ priate for the two hunting scenes in which it was used.

Thirty-four sound cues were marked by the prompter. They can be classified according to three types: physical sounds, human sounds, and warning or readying sound cues. Examples of physical sound cues were those such as "Gun fired R. U. E. " or "Sound of 135 door being unlocked or unbolted R. 2 E. " There were nine human sound cues as cues for "laughter, groans L. H. ” or "Voices R. 1 E. at Rise of Curtain. " Warning and readying cues included warnings for guns to fire, sound of whip cracking and such cues as "Ready noise and see bolt behind door" and "Supers and Countrymen ready to shout L. 2 E. 11 Since there were two guns fired on stage during the action of one scene, it was interesting to discover two sound cues for backstage firings in case of misfirings on stage. The cues were "See double ready for Alfred's pistol L.1E." and "See double ready for Lemuel's pistol L.3E."

O ther cues

There were also fifty-four other miscellaneous cues marked by the prompter for this production. These cues included cast calls, cues for ad-libs, scene changes, property cues, business cues, a few movement cues, and cues for added speeches. There were two unusual cues marked in the script. One, marked in the middle of a vocal trio, suggested that "If trio is not funny, exit here. " The other inferred that a horse was being considered for use in the production. The cue read: "The horse supposed to be off at wing.

Articles arranged on lines strung from upright sticks upon sides of c a r t if no horse is used. " 136

Conclusions

The foregoing analysis of the prompt book for The Flowers of the Forest has led to the following conclusions regarding certain aspects of the staging for the production:

1. The indication of specific localities for the scenes

was generally non-important since eight, or half of

the scenes, were landscapes or a wood.

2. All of the scenery employed in the production was

probably taken from stock.

3. All of the scenes but three were made up entirely

of flats or a drop, wings, and borders; three scenes

added set pieces.

4. The same exterior wings often stood in position for

a number of consecutive scenes. There were four

consecutive exterior scenes in the second act and

three in the third.

5. Spectacular scenic effects were limited to lightning,

thunder, and rain. There was one special effect of

a green spotlight medium used in one scene.

6. The prompt book was rich with music, sound, and

other cues which were clearly marked and added

much detail to the reconstruction of the scenes. 137

7. Seven of the sixteen scenes were placed in rather

shallow settings of the first or second grooves.

8. Over one-half of the scene shifts alternated scenery

in the rather shallow placements of the first and

second grooves with deeper positions. CHAPTER V

ASPECTS OF BUCKS TONE'S STAGING OF

TWELFTH NIGHT

The purpose of this chapter is to present an analysis of a prompt book; of a piay for which Buckstone was the prompter, with the hope of discovering how he prepared a prompt script and some insight as to the way in which he managed his produc­ tions at the Haymarket Theatre. The richest prompt book of the three available for this study was one for a production of

Twelfth Night. The prompt book^ consulted for this analysis

1 Twelfth Night (Haymarket, 1867), JohnB. Buckstone, Prompter. Courtesy Folger Shakespearian Library. OSU Film No. P . 937. was used for Buckstone's production of the play at the Haymarket in 1867.

The nature and placement of scenery

This performance of Twelfth Night was played in eighteen scenes, of which the location of fourteen were specifically listed

138 139 by Buckstone in his prompt book. The stage positions of the scenery for the remaining four scenes can be determined with a fair degree of accuracy by deductions made from stage directions and other notations in the prompt book.

Act I, Scene 1. —The opening scene of the play was charac­

terized by the playwright simply as "The Sea Coast. " In all probability stock scenery was used for this setting as sea coasts

and other types of landscapes certainly were standard items of

scenery in all of the theatres in 1867.

Bucks tone’s note shows that the back scene was placed in

the first groove. Figure 16 shows the position of the sea coast

flats G in relation to all the other flat elements used in the first

act. Scene 1 of the second act is also a sea coast. Buckstone’s

handwritten note, "Same as 1st scene, 1st groove, " indicates

that the same setting was used for both scenes.

The side pieces were probably stock tree wings or other

exterior wings appropriate for a sea coast which were located in

the first groove as shown in Figure 16 ([).

Act I, Scene 2. —Figure 16 shows the placement of the flats

A for the second scene of Twelfth Nicrht. Their position in the third

groove was noted at the opening of the scene by Buckstone. As in

the first scene, it seems likely that this setting was composed of 140

A Room in Duke's Palace, I, 2-4

B Int. Wing ______Int. Wing

C Street before Olivia's House, I, 6

D Ext. Wing Ext. Wing E Int. Wing Int. Wing

F Room in Olivia's House, I, 3-5 G The Sea Coast, I, 1 and H, 1

H Int. Wing ______Int. Wing I Ext. Winer______Ext. Winer

Proscenium Arch

Fig. 16. - -Placement of Flats and Wings for Act I of Twelfth Night. 141 stock scenery for the description is merely "A room in Duke

OrsinoJs Palace. " Figure 16 shows the logical location of the wings 03, E, and H) used with flats (A). If the flats were of stock scenery, as they almost certainly were, it is probable that the wings, too, were stock interior wings.

Alternation to this second scene was accomplished by the removal of flats (G) and wings 0) revealing flats (A) and wings

03, E, and H) which were previously set in place.

This scene is a discovery. The Duke is seated center on a sofa with nobles on both sides of him and Curio downstage right.

Figure 17 is a tableau drawing by Buckstone on an interleaf which shows the exact placement of the characters at the start of the scene. This sketch clearly indicates that Buckstone practiced certain basic elements of directing which are in vogue today. By

Buckstone's placement of the Duke up center while his nobles are placed down left and to his right with Curio far down right, Buck­ stone achieved a perfect example cf primary emphasis and focus.

The natural lines created by the placement of the characters meet and form the apex of a triangle at the Duke's seat, upstage center.

Furthermore, the eyes of the audience would automatically focus on the Duke should Curio and the nobles be looking at the Duke, as

they probably were, when he spoke the opening speech of the scene. 142

c^ iiu A jL C O ^ ' tSMJi,

Fig. 17. --Placement of Characters at the Eeginning of Scene 2 of Act I of Twelfth Night. 143

This was an excellent staging maneuver since the main purpose of the scene was to introduce the Duke.

Application of other elements of good stage composition is also illustrated in the drawing. Notice the six nobles on the Duke’s left, staggered in two rows of three each. Note, too, the three nobles to the Duke’s right, with a space between them and Curio, who is at the extreme right. Such a placement of characters illustrates the good use of stage balance, sequence, and picturiza- tion in the prompter’s composition of the scene. In the middle of his first speech, the Duke rises and comes down center which gives him further emphasis and dominance.

Act I, Scene 3. —The third scene of the first act of Twelfth

Night takes place in "A Room in Olivia’s House. ” Figure 16 shows the placement of the flats and wings (F and H) in the first groove as indicated by the prompter’s note in the script. In view of what is known about the repeated use of wings in theatres, it seems likely that the same interior wings (H) used in the preceding scene were retained for this scene. Indeed, one set of interior wings probably was used in all of the other interior scenes of the play except possibly for the gallery scene in Olivia's house in the fourth act, which will be considered later. The alternation to I 3 was effected simply by running on flats (F) in the second channel of the 144 first groove thus shutting out the preceding scene in the third groove.

Act I, Scene 4. —The fourth scene of the first act, "A

Room in the Duke's Palace, " is the same as that for the second

scene and was located in the third groove again as revealed by

the prompter's note. Again, alternation to the scene was achieved

simply by drawing off flats F revealing the scene.

Act I, Scene 5. —The fifth scene reverts back to Olivia's

house again and is the same as that for the third scene. It was

set in the second channel of the first groove as verified by Buck­

stone 's note. The scene was changed by drawing on flats F again

as shown in Figure 16. Although there was no reference in the

script or description of stage furniture, there was one prompter's

note that "Olivia sits R.C. " about midway through the scene. There

was no evidence to indicate what she sat on or when the piece of

furniture was placed on the stage.

Act I, Scene 6. --The last scene of the first act was described

as "A Street Before Olivia's House. " Buckstone notes that the

scene was placed in the second groove. Figure 16 shows the place­

ment of the flats and wings (C, D, and I). The alternation was made

by running on wings I while removing flats F revealing flats C and

wings D which were put in place while the fifth scene was playing in 145 the first groove. The interior wings E in the second groove were also removed while the preceding scene was playing.

There was a prompter's note to ring down the curtain at the end of the scene, indicating that an act curtain was used between acts. It is important to note here that between acts flats and wings could be changed from groove to groove as scenery was being readied for the next act.

Act H, Scene 1. —The first scene of the second act of Twelfth

Might was the same as that for the first scene in the play, as already indicated. The sea coast was placed in the first groove again, as noted by the prompter, and employed the same scenery.

Figure 18 shows the placement of this scene in relation to the other two scenes of A ct II.

Act H, Scene 2. —The second scene of the second act of the play takes place in "A Dining-Room in Olivia's House. " Buckstone described the furniture and properties of this scene with greater detail than any other scene in the play. His prompter’s directions were as follows: "White cloth on table C, covered with drinking things - 4 flasks - 4 glasses - a lighted candle - Herb Tobacco - and pipes on Table. - Round table L.H. Table and chairs R.H.

Sir Toby and Sir Andrew discovered drinking and smoking at table

C. Sir Toby, R, Sir Andrew L. " 146

A Dining Room in Olivia's House, IE, 2

B Int. Wing ______Int. Wing

C Int. Wing Int. Wing

D A Hall in Duke's Palace, II, 3 E The Sea C oast, H, 1

F Int. Wing Int. Wing G Ext. Wing Ext. Wing

Proscenium Arch

Fig. 18. —Placement of Flats and Wings for Act II of Twelfth Night. 147

Unfortunately, this scene was one of the four in which Buck­ stone failed to note the location of the back scene. It may be argued, however, that it had to be at least as far upstage as the second groove since the scene is a discovery and the first scene has been previously established as having been played in the first groove. However, the second groove still might be too shallow since space was needed for dancing and revelry as well as the furniture which was described above. That the back scene was in the fourth groove seems doubtful as the only other scenes played there were the two garden scenes in Olivia’s garden and

the gallery scene, all of which required much more space. That

the third groove was used seems more likely since the depth would be adequate for the scenic requirements. There is one other piece of evidence which could support the theory that the scene was placed in the third groove. This evidence comes from an earlier produc­

tion by Buckstone of the same play. The prompt book^ for this

^Twelfth Night (Havmarket, 1856), JohnB. Buckstone, Prompter. Courtesy Folger Shakespearian Library. OSU Film No. P. 938, p. 24.

production done in 1856 at the Haymarket Theatre clearly shows

this setting as having its back scene in the third groove. Since all

of the fourteen known groove listings of the prompt book for the 148

1867 performance are identical with the groove listings of the 1856 prompt book, one must assume that Buckstone followed his earlier script when staging the later production.

In Figure 18 we see the positions of the flats and wings

(A, B, C, and F) for this scene. Alternation to this scene was accomplished by running off flats E and wings G revealing flats

A and wings B, C, and F which were already in place at the start of the act.

Act II, Scene 3. —The last scene of the second act was described as "A Hall in the Duke*s Palace. " Again Buckstone indicates with a prompt note that the back scene was placed in the first groove. Figure 18 shows the placement of the hall flats

(D) in the second channel of the first groove and the interior wings

(F) which accompany them. Since the wings are the same as those used in the previous scene, all that was necessary to switch scenes was to draw on flats D, concealing the dining room flats in the third groove.

As this was the last scene of the act, an interesting note appeared on the interleaf facing the first page of script for this scene, "Do not clear stage till end of act on account of the noise. "

A final note, "ring down, " at the end of the act assures us that the dining room scene was cleared in due time. Act HE, Scene 1. —The setting for the first and third scenes of this act is described simply as "Olivia’s Garden. " The prompter's notes for both scenes show that the setting had its back scene in the fourth groove. Figure 19 shows the placement of the garden flats (A) in the fourth groove and the exterior wings

(B, C, G, and I) which go with them. There is a reference to one set piece in the first scene. A note calls for Sir Andrew, Sir

Toby, and Fabian to hide behind a tree "L" when Malvolio enters and then to "advance from behind the tree" after he exits. There is no other description, notation, or explanation about the tree.

There is also no mention of the tree in the third scene although one can presume it was still there. Entrances and exits for these two scenes were listed as "Left first entrance, Upper Entrance

Right Hand, Left Upper Entrance, Left second entrance. " It appears that the players made their entrances and exits through the first, second, or fourth grooves.

Act HI, Scene 2. —This very short scene between the two garden scenes was called "A Public Square. " Once more Buck­ stone very carefully noted that the flats were to be placed in the first channel of the second groove. Figure 19 shows that alterna­ tion to this scene was accomplished simply by running on the public square flats E, which shut out the previous scene. The same 150

------

A Olivia's Garden, HI, 1-3

B Ext. Wing______Ext. Wing

C Ext. Wing______Ext. Wing

D Room in Olivia's House,m , 4 E A Public Square, IE,2

F Int. Wing Int. Wing G Ext. Wing Ext. Wing

H Int. Wing Int. Wing I Ext. Winer______Ext. Wing

Proscenium Arch

Fig. 19. —Placement of Flats and Wings for Act HE of Twelfth Night. 151 exterior wings (G and I) used for the garden scene were probably- used for this exterior scene.

Act III, Scene 3_. —This was the garden scene again. The scene is changed back in a matter of seconds as stage hands simply removed the public square flats (E), revealing the garden scene in the fourth groove as before (see Figure 19).

Act FI, Scene 4. —"A Room in Olivia’s House." In all probability, the same flats that were used in Scenes 3 and 5 of the first act were used for this scene. In this usage the back scene was placed in the second groove as a Buckstone note indicates.

The flats could easily have been changed to the second groove between acts. Figure 19 shows the room flats of Olivia’s house

(D) which closed in the preceding garden scene. Accompanying interior wings F and H were revealed when exterior wings G and

I were removed and the play continued with little interruption.

Again, Buckstone’s note, "Ring down, End of Act IH, " indicates the act curtain was lowered and that scenery could be changed from the various grooves as the stage was readied for the fourth act.

Act IV, Scene 1. —This setting, "A Room in Olivia’s House, " is the same as that for the previous scene except that Buckstone*s

note indicates he staged it in the third groove for this act. The 152

scenery was shifted, no doubt, during the intermission between

A cts in and IV. The probable reason for this shift will be

explained shortly. Figure 20 shows the placement of the room

flats for Olivia’s house (A) in the third groove and the interior

wings B, E, and H which complete the scene.

Act IV, Scene 2. —Originally this scene, as Shakespeare

wrote it, was Olivia's garden again and probably would have

been played in the fourth groove had Buckstone not changed it.

In both the 1856 and 1867 productions, he changed the scene to

"a wood” but failed to indicate in his prompt books where it was

to be played. Both prompt books call for the next scene, "The

Street Before Olivia's House, ” to be played in the first groove

while the fourth scene, "A Gallery in Olivia's House, " has no

groove listing for its back scene in either prompt book. Two

questions arise: What groove appears to be the most likely one

used for this second scene and why did Buckstone change its title

from the garden to a wood? Several pieces of evidence from the

prompter's notes coupled with some logical theatrical conjecture

supply the answers to these questions.

Most of the stage directions for the second scene seem to

indicate that a shallow, rather than a deep stage was used. One

entrance was changed by Buckstone from left second entrance to 153

A Room in Olivia's House, IV, 1

B Int. Wing Int. Wing

_C A Wood. IV, 2

D Ext. Wing______Ext. Wing E Int. Wing Int. Winer

F______Street before Olivia's House, IV, 3

G Ext. Wing______Ext. Wing H Int. Wing ______Int. Winer

------Proscenium Arch------

Fig. 20. —Placement of Flats and Wings for the first three scenes of Act IV of Twelfth Night. 154 left first entrance. This switch was necessary because a tree was placed in the left second entrance in front of the back scene in the second groove. Since the first scene of this act was staged in the

third groove and the third scene was to be played in the first

groove, it seems highly reasonable to assume that the wood was played in the second. It might have been played in the fourth

groove but probably was not. It appears that the main reason for playing the scene in the second groove was because Buckstone

needed the area of the fourth groove for the placement of scenery for the large and bulky setting of the gallery scene. From evidence

which will be discussed later, it appears that the fourth scene

required a very deep stage and may have included a box set with

platforms, stairs, and other scenery. It is obvious that if such

heavy and bulky scenery was used for this scene, Buckstone needed

a huge area and also wanted most of the setting in place at the start

of the act. Furthermore, he may have reasoned that after two

garden scenes in the fourth groove he could not create the same

garden illusion in the second groove and therefore changed the

title of the scene to a wood. Thus by placing the opening scene

in the third groove, it was rather simple to alternate to the second

groove for the wood scene and then to the first groove for the third

or street scene. This plan of alternation would also free the third 155 groove area after the first scene and the second groove area after the second scene for placement of the side flats for the fourth scene's box set.

Figure 20 shows the wood flats C for the second scene in the second groove with wings D and G. The alternation was accomplished by running on flats C, closing out the first scene, and running off interior wings E and H.

Act IV, Scene 3. —This scene was described as “The Street before Olivia's House" and Buckstone's prompt note, as cited above, indicates that the back scene was in the first groove.

Figure 20 shows the flats for this scene (F). Exterior wings G, which were used in the second scene, simply remained in position and were used again. Alternation to the third scene was effected merely by drawing on flats F.

Act IV, Scene 4. —The fourth scene was the "Gallery in

Olivia's House. ” Figure 21 shows a sketch for this setting which was located at the end of the prompt book. From this drawing it

seems evident that a more realistic setting was used for this

scene, perhaps a box set which was placed in the second, third,

and fourth groove areas of the stage. It seems highly probable

that the deeper part of this setting, including the back walls and

the platforms of the gallery, was set up in the fourth groove area 156

Fig. 21. —Sketch of Setting for Act IV, Scene 4, of Twelfth Night. 157 at the beginning of the act. After the first and second scenes, it was a simple process to put the staircase in place in the third groove area and place the side flats as far downstage as the second groove if desired. Alternation to this scene was completed by removing flats F and wings G of the third scene (as shown in

Figure 20) revealing the box set illustrated in Figure 21. A prompter's note at the end of the fourth scene, "End of 4th Act,

Ring Down, " indicates the end of the act and that an act curtain was used. (It should be noted here that the fifth scene of this act was cut by Buckstone in both his 1856 and 1867 productions. This short scene was Olivia's Garden again. Since Buckstone chose to cut it rather than call it a wood and stage it in the first and only groove available, one might conjecture and the theory is streng­ thened that all of the grooves except the first were used for the box set of the fourth scene.)

Act V. —The last scene of the play is listed as "A Street with Olivia’s House in the background. ” Neither prompt book for the two productions lists the groove in which the back scene was placed. Since it is the only scene of the act, it is possible that the back scene could have been placed in any groove while the act curtain was lowered at the end of the fourth act. Evidence from the prompt books seems to indicate that a shallow depth must have 158 been used. Entrances and exits are cued for "ft. I.E. ” (right first entrance, usually indicative of the first groove) and simply

"R" and "L”). Thus it seems that the back scene was placed in a shallow plane and either the first or second groove was used.

This conjecture is further enhanced by the fact that Buckstone might not have wanted to take the time and effort between acts to remove the elaborate gallery setting of the previous scene. In all probability, if a box set was used (and evidence seems to indicate that it was), the first groove had to be the one most likely to be used for this single scene of the final act. One other piece of evidence remains. The third scene of the previous act was also a street before Olivia's house and was played in the first groove. It also had entrance cues marked for "L. I.E. ”

(left, first entrance) and “L. " Thus it appears that the last scene would have been more easily staged with the same flats and wings and in the same place (the first groove) as that for the third scene in the fourth act. Figure 22 shows the placement of flats A and exterior wings B for the last scene of this 1867 produc­ tion of Twelfth Night. 159

_A______Street before Olivia's House, V

B Ext. Wing______Ext. Wing

Proscenium Arch

Fig. 22. —Placement of Flats and Wings for Act V of Twelfth Night. 160

Depths of scenes and types of alternation

A summary of the preceding analysis reveals that of the eighteen scenes in Twelfth Nicrht, seven were placed far downstage in the first groove; four in the second; four in the moderately deep third groove; and three, including the gallery scene, in the deeper fourth grooves.

With regard to the way in which the scenes were alternated at scene shift, we find that all of the seventeen shifts but one were shallow (first or second grooves) to moderately deep and deep

(third and fourth grooves) or the reverse. The one exception was a second groove to first groove alternation.

Wings and borders

Although wings and borders were not mentioned in the prompt book, it seems fairly obvious that they must have been stock pieces, since all of the flats with which they were associated appear to have been stock scenery.

A review of the scenes makes it at once evident that only two sets of wings and borders would have been required for the produc­ tion: (1) exterior wings and sky borders for the nine exterior scenes, and (2) interior wings and ceiling borders for the nine interior settings. 161

Lighting and special effects

This production employed no special effects whatsoever.

There was only one lighting cue noted by Buckstone. At the very end of the third scene of Act IV, and before the cue for changing to the gallery scene in Olivia's house, was a note, "Put lights one-half down. " This obviously meant that the lights for the gallery scene should be lowered (dialogue refers to the darkness of the room). There was no cue to indicate when the lights were brought up again.

Summary and conclusions

The analysis and study of Buckstone’s prompt book for this

1867 production of Twelfth Night has led to the following summary and conclusions regarding certain aspects of Bucks tone's staging

and bis preparation of his prompt book for the production.

All of the scenery employed in the production was stock

scenery. Most of the scenes were made up entirely of flats, wings,

and borders except the gallery scene which had a platform, stairs,

and a box set and the garden and wood scenes which added a tree.

Two sets of stock wings, used repeatedly, were adequate for the

presentation of the play.

Set props were kept to a minimum. The only furniture cited

in the prompt book was the sofa in the first scene of the play, 162

Olivia's seat in Scene 5 and the two tables and chairs in the drinking scene in Olivia's house in the second act. Hand properties were also minimized, but Buckstone had all of them carefully listed and cued in his prompt book.

Since the play does not suggest spectacular staging, there were no special effects in the production. Light cues, except one,

were missing from the prompt book.

With the exception of lighting cues and the four unmarked

groove placements, Buckstone's promptbook was fairly complete

for this production. He carefully marked his prompt script with

entrances, exits, movement, and business. There was an unusual

amount of detail given for the execution of certain pieces of busi­

ness. Buckstone very meticulously listed warning calls for

characters prior to their entrances. Warning cues for scene

changes were clearly marked at the end of each scene. In the

crowd scenes when extra non-speaking characters such as lords,

pages, and officers were on stage, small diagrams showing their

relative positions were included in the interleaves of the script.

Costume descriptions were also given at the front of the prompt

book. CHAPTER VI

CONCLUSIONS AND EVALUATION

This chapter will be divided into two parts: (1) summary of conclusions from the prompt books and (2) evaluation of Buckstone’s c a re e r.

Summary of Conclusions from the Prompt Books

A number of conclusions regarding certain aspects of the staging of Buckstone's plays and his staging methods have been reached as a result of the interpretation of the evidence revealed by the analysis of the prompt books and acting-edition scripts.

These conclusions are primarily concerned with the nature and placement of the scenery, alternations of scenery, the use of special effects, and other aspects of staging.

Each of the three preceding chapters dealing with the aspects of staging for a specific performance contains some of the con­ clusions which were formed as a result of the analysis with which

the chapter was concerned. It is the function of this discussion to bring the conclusions of these three chapters together and to sum­

marize in general statements the findings.

163 164

The nature of the scenery. —The evidence drawn from the analyses makes it clear that all three of the productions relied extremely heavily on stock flats, wings, and borders as the means of realizing the scenic backgrounds on the stage. The analyses also revealed that the use of stock scenery may have been attributed to the lack of interest on the part of either the prompter or the playwright or both as to the specific nature of the locality represented on stage. This was particularly true in the performance of The Flowers of the Forest. In this case, the background for many of the scenes was found to have little effect upon the action. A background was needed, but it did not neces­ sarily have to be composed of specific items. A few of the set tings, despite the use of stock item s for the back scenes and wings, achieved an atmosphere of individuality by the addition of set pieces. Examples of these set pieces were trees, cut woods, and a chapel in The Flowers of the Forest and the stairs and gallery in Twelfth Nicrht. When these set p ieces were added, they became active pieces. They were used physically in the course of the action of the play and were not simply part of the background.

Set pieces were not employed very much in these productions. Of the forty-five scenes in the three plays which were individually discussed, only six made any use of set pieces. 165

All three productions were capable of being staged with only two sets of wings, an interior set and exterior set of tree wings.

The only possible exception was an extra exterior wing in Luke the Labourer as explained in the discussion of the first scene of the play. It was also found that in a number of cases the same wings could be left in place for as many as four consecutive scenes, thus making the many scene shifts a simple matter of closing or opening the flats at the back.

The placement of scenery. —Analysis of the stage positions of the flats used as the back scenes for the forty-five scenes has shown that slightly more than one-half or twenty-five of the back scenes were placed in the relatively shallow first or second grooves. The remaining twenty scenes were placed in the deeper third, fourth, or fifth grooves. The deeper grooves usually were reserved for the' scenes which required extra space for massive props as tents and carts or for set pieces as the chapel or the gallery. Other scenes in which the action called for large groups of supernumeraries also demanded deeper settings.

Types of alternations of scenes. —The way in which the scenes were shifted followed the general staging practices of the period. With just one or two exceptions, the shallow scenes were followed by deep scenes or the reverse. 166

Types of special effects. —Special effects for the three pro­ ductions which analyzed consisted mainly of lightning, thunder, rain, and one other special lighting effect. Of the forty-five scenes in the three productions, only four made any use of special effects of any kind.

The use of furniture. —The analyses revealed that very little furniture was used in the productions. When it was used, it was kept to a minimum. Less than one-fourth of the total number of scenes analyzed made use of furniture.

Evaluation of Bucks tone's Career

"For fifty years, 03uckstone} was one of London's most popular comedians and most prolific playwrights. "1 Theatre

Iphyllis Hartnoll, The Oxford Companion to. the Theatre (Oxford: University Press, 1951), p. 104. historians state that he authored from one hundred to two hundred dramatic pieces. The large variance in number may be due to the fact that many of his plays with double titles (such as Second

Thoughts, or, Breach of Promise) were often performed with only one or the other half of the title. Consequently, productions of one play were often presented under two different titles. 167

At various times in his career, Buckstone was known as the chief author or stock writer for the Adelphi, Olympic, Strand,

Lyceum, and Haymarket theatres. His works were also performed at Drury Lane and C-ovent Garden and most of the other minor theatres of London.

Although seldom performed today, Bucks tone's plays were once extremely popular because of their charm and warmth.

Most of his plays had a long career of popularity and were "among the best approved standard comedies, farces, and melo-dramas of

the day. The significant fact about Bucks tone's work both as an

2 Joseph I. Ireland, Records of the New York Stage, n (New York: T. H. MorellCo., 1867), 334. actor and a playwright is that he was a popular artist writing and acting for a popular theatre. At the peak of his career, the

majority of the theatre patrons preferred the type of plays which

Buckstone was writing and acting in to the higher forms of comedy and serious drama which were in a grave decline. Buckstone's plays were the type which were characterized as the principal

mainstay of the theatre of his times. More often than not, his performances and those of his plays were shown to full houses.

He was giving the "theatre goers" the type of drama which they

wanted and enjoyed. 168

None of his plays were failures. His most successful works included Luke the Labourer; The Wreck Ashore: The Green Bushes; and The Flowers of the Forest performed at the Adelphi; Married

Life; Single Life; Second Thoughts: Rural Felicity; and Leap Year, or, The Ladies’ Privilege performed at the Haymarket; Popping the

Question and Our Mary Anne brought out at Drury Lane.

Buckstone was one of the most mirth-inspiring actors of his day. He was genuinely funny and his ability to provoke laughter was unequalled. In later life some called him "the irresistible low- comedian"3 of the English stage. Among his many outstanding

SFarquharson Sharp, A Short History of the English Stage from Its Beginnings to the Summer of the Year 1908 (London: The Walter Scott Co., 1909), p. 136. roles, the most famous were his Gnatbrain in Black-Eyed Susan;

John Box in Box and Cox; Sir Andrew Aguecheek in Twelfth Night, or, What You Will; Tony Lumpkin in She Stoops to Conquer; and

Asa Trenchard in Our American Cousin. In all of these roles,

Buckstone played a very.comic and ludicrous character which he enjoyed playing to the fullest. These were his favorite characters and his audiences never tired of seeing him in these famous roles.

It was said that he rarely created a part in any other fashion than 169

"compelling it to wear his own identity. "4 Yet he succeeded so

4The Athenaeum. CXLVTH, No. 2713 (Nov. 8, 1879), 606. well in this that he seldom ever failed with his audience.

Perhaps Buckstone's most important and most often per­ formed role was his John Box in Box and Cox. He sustained this role for over twenty years. In 1847 he appeared in this play as one of the representative actors chosen for the special performances which were presented in order to raise money for the purchase of

Shakespeare's house. A year later, he was summoned to Windsor

Castle for a special performance of the play.

Buckstone's connection with the Haymarket Theatre began in 1837 when he was engaged by Benjamin Webster as one of his

leading comedians, and from that time until 1877 (with one or two

short intervals) his career was bound up with this theatre. He

soon became one of the main pillars of the Haymarket, both as

actor and author. When Webster left the Haymarket to assume

the management of the Adelphi in 1853, it was not surprising that

Buckstone was the one chosen to succeed Webster at the Haymarket.

When Buckstone assumed command at the Haymarket, he

assembled an excellent company which the press claimed as the

best in London. He was not only popular with his company because 170 he paid them well, but he also was popular with his patrons as he gave them good value with his lengthy bills and his half-prices after nine o'clock;. This policy often caused him to lose money but he believed in giving both his company and his patrons more

than necessary. Mr. Weathersby, a member of Buckstone's

company, confirms Buckstone's popularity with his company

when he said, "No one could have been kinder than 'Bucky, ' and

the company was more like a big happy family than anything else.

^As quoted in Cyril Maude, The Haymarket Theatre (London: Grant Richards, 1903), p. 139.

Buckstone should be remembered for four significant

contributions he made as manager of the Haymarket Theatre.

1. Late in December of 1853, Buckstone produced

the first pantomime ever to be performed at the

Haymarket. It became traditional at this theatre

to have pantomimes presented there at the Christmas

season for at least twenty years. Most of Buckstone's

last works were pantomimes written for these holiday

performances at the Haymarket.

2. By bringing Senora Perea Nena and her Spanish troupe

to the Haymarket in 1857, Buckstone (through their

performance) did much to revolutionize stage dancing 171

and revitalize ballet at a time when the latter was

losing its interest in England.

3. Buckstone's highly successful production of Taylor’s

Our American Cousin gave the Haymarket and him­

self the distinction of having the first really long

run in theatrical history. The play ran for 400

nights.

4. Buckstone did not care much for tragedy or heavy

fare. Since he was a comedian himself, he decided

that comedy was to be the staple at the Haymarket.

He is remembered for making the Haymarket Theatre

the home of comedy, a position it still holds today.

Buckstone’s whole life from the age of seventeen until his death was wrapped up in the theatre. It was in comedy, farce, and melodrama that he found his strength. In these types, he wrote and acted with the best of his period. Buckstone was a particular favorite with Queen Victoria. Although she never went to the theatre after the death of her husband, she retained her box at the Haymarket as long as Buckstone was the manager. 6

%bid. , p. 146. 172

Buckstone's management of the Haymarket, with the excep­ tion of the last six or seven years when his infirmity prevented his taking an active part in the staging of his productions, was cited by several writers as highly successful.

Although Buckstone did not come from a theatrical-minded family, he made his own immediate family one. His first wife and business partner, Mrs. FitzwiHiam, was also quite famous in her own right as a favorite actress of her day. After her death Buckstone remarried and was the father of three children, aH of whom made their own reputations on the stage in successful acting careers.

John Baldwin Buckstone certainly will not be remembered

as one of the great personages of the theatre. Yet, he should be

recognized as one who had a large share in providing a certain

type of theatrical activity which was very popular and much in

demand during the second and third quarters of the nineteenth

century in both England and the United States. APPENDIXES

173 APPENDIX I

THE PLAYS OF BUCKSTONE

With Date of First Performance and Theatre in Which Held

1. Abelard and Heloise. Surrey, May 8, 1837.

2. The Absent Son. Adelphi, September 29, 1828.

3. A Card? 23 John Street, Adelphi. Adelphi, November 21, 1826.

4. A Dead Shot. Adelphi, January 22, 1827.

5. Agnes de Vere, or. The Broken Heart. Adelphi, November 10, 1834.

6. A Husband at Sight. Haymarket, August 13, 1830.

7. A Kiss in the Dark. Haymarket, June 13, 1840.

8. A L esson for the L adies. H aym arket, August 5, 1838.

9’ An Alarming Sacrifice. Haymarket, July 12, 1849.

10. A Rough Diamond. Lyceum, November 8, 1847.

11. The Babes in the Woods, or, Harlegum and the Cruel Uncle. Haymarket, December, 1856.

12. The Banished Star. Park Theatre, New York, December 11, 1840.

13. The Bear-Hunters, or, The Fatal Ravine. Coburg, April 25, 1825. 174 175

14• The Belle of Jhe Hotel (a monopolyogue written for Mrs. FitzwiHiam). Haymarket, November 7, 1842.

15. Billy Taylor, or, The Gay Young FeHow. Adelphi, November, 1829.

16. Bohem ians in P a r is . New Y ork, 1844.

17. The Boyne Water, or, Oonagh of the Broken Heart. Coburg, A pril 7, 1828.

18. The Bravo, A Story of Venice. Adelphi, February 11, 1833.

19. The Breach of Promise. (See Second Thoughts.)

20. Brother Sam (coUaborated with E. G. Southern and John Oxenford). Haymarket, May 24, 1865.

21. Brother Tom, or, My Dear Relations. Haymarket, October 10, 1839.

22. The Card Drawer. Chestnut Theatre, Philadelphia, November 28, 1845.

23. The Christening. Adelphi, October 13, 1834.

24. Crimson Crimes. Adelphi.

25. Curiosity Cured, or, Powder for Peeping. Sadler's Wells, June 20, 1825.

26. Damon and Pythias. Adelphi, December 19, 1831.

27. The Dead Shot. Adelphi, January 22, 1827.

28. The Death Fetch, or. The Student of Gottinger. English Opera House, July 25, 1826.

29. The Death Plank, or, A True Tale of the Sea. Arch Theatre, Philadelphia, March 28, 1835.

30. The Devil in London, or, Sketches in 1840 (coUaborated with Richard Brinsley Peake). Adelphi, April 20, 1840. 31. Don Juan. Adelphi, July 5, 1830.

32. The Doom ol Morano, or, The Spirit of Good and Evil. Adelphi, October 3, 1836.

33. The Dream at Sea, or, A Vision of the Dead. Adelphi, November 23, 1835.

34. The Duchess de la Vaubaliere. Adelphi, January 2, 1837.

35. The Duke*s Bride, or, Julie. Chestnut Theatre, Philadelphia, Septem ber 7, 1840.

36. Ellen Wareham. Haymarket, April 24, 1833.

37. "The Florentine Bride" (unpublished play reviewed in The Theatrical Inquisitor in October, 1820).

38. The Flowers of the Forest, A Gypsy Story. Adelphi, March 11, 1847.

39. Forcrery, or, The Reading of the Will. Adelphi, March 5, 1832.

40. The Foundlings. Haymarket, June 16, 1852.

41. Good for Nothing. Haymarket, February 4, 1851.

42. Good Husbands Make Good Wives. Haymarket, June 11, 1835.

43. Grandmother Grizzle. Haymarket, September 10, 1851.

44. The Green Bushes, or, A Hundred Years Ago. Adelphi, January 27, 1845.

45. Grimalkin the Great. Adelphi, 1830.

46. The Happiest Day of My Life. Haymarket, July 29, 1829.

47. Harlequin and the Three Bears, or, Little Silver Hair and the Fairies. Haymarket, December 26, 1853.

48. Henriette the Forsaken. Adelphi, November 5, 1832. 177

49- The Hunters of the Pyrenees, or, The Chasm of Death. Walnut Theatre, Philadelphia, March 7, 1840.

50. The Ice Witch, or, The Frozen Hand. Drury Lane, April 4, 1831.

51. The Irish Lion. Haymarket, June 13, 1838.

52. Isabelle, or, Wotaan's Life (also called Thirty Years of a WorQan*s Life). Adelphi, January 27, 1834.

53. I Will Be a Duchess, or, A Little Flirting-. Strand, April 15, 1839.

54. Jack Sheppard. Adelphi, October 28, 1839.

55. John Jones. Haymarket, September 15, 1831.

56. John Street, Adelphi. (This play and Thirty-Three John Street, which was performed in New York, are versions of an earlier play, A Card! 23 John Street, Adelphi.

57. Josephine, or, The Fortune of War. Haymarket, March 7, 1844.

58. Josephine, The Child of the Regiment. (A revision of Josephine, or, The Fortune of War.) Lyceum, August 5, 1858.

59. The King of the Alps, or. The Misanthrope. Adelphi, January 24, 1831.

60. The Last Days of Pompeii, or, Seventeen Hundred Years Ago. Adelphi, D ecem ber 15, 1834.

61. Leap Year, or, The Ladies* Privilege. Haymarket, January 15, 1850.

62. The Lions of Mysore (an Adelphi burlesque, attributed to Buckstone by Benjamin Webster).

63. Little Bo-Peep, or, Harlequin and the Girl Who Lost Her Sheep. Haymarket, December 26, 1854. 178

64. Little Miss Muffett and Little Boy Blue, or, Harlequin and Old Daddy Long Legs. Haymarket, December 12, 1861.

65. The Little Red Man, or, The Witch of the Water Snakes. Sadler's WeHs, September 3, 1832.

66. The Little Treasure. Princess, March 31, 1862.

67- The Lottery Ticket (later bilLed as The Lawyer's Clerk). Bowery Theatre, New York, June 8, 1827.

68. Love and Murder, or, The School for Sympathy. Haymarket, August 15, 1837.

69. Luke the Labourer, or, The Lost Son. Adelphi, October 17, 1826.

70. The Maid with the Milking Pail. Adelphi, July 6, 1846.

71. Make Your Wills (attributed to Buckstone by John S. Kendall).

72. Married for Money. Haymarket, August 14, 1857.

73. Married Life. Haymarket, August 20, 1834.

74. The May Queen, or, Sampson the Serjeant. Adelphi, O ctober 9, 1828.

75. Mischief-Making. Surrey, September 16, 1828.

76. My Absent Son, or, Brown Studies. Adelphi, September 28, 1828.

77- My Little Adopted (attributed to Buckstone by John S. Kendall).

78. Nicholas Flam, Attorney at Law. Royal Princess Theatre, August 1, 1833.

79. Nine Too Many. Adelphi, March 11, 1847.

80. Open House, or, The Twin Sisters. Haymarket, April 8, 1833. 179

81. Our Mary Ann. Drury Lane, January 18, 1838.

82. Peter Bell the Waggoner, or. Murders of Massiac. Coburg, April 20, 1829.

83. The Pet of the Petticoats. Sadler's Wells, August 2, 1832.

84. Poor Jack, or, A Sailor's Wife. Adelphi, February 3, 1840.

85. Popping the Question. Drury Lane, March 23, 1830.

86. Presumptive Evidence, or. Murder Will Out. Adelphi, M arch 3, 1828.

87. The Rake and His Pupil, or, Folly, Love, and Marriage (also billed as The Young Rake and Folly, Love, and Marriage). Adelphi, November 25, 1833.

88. Rienzi, the Last of the Tribunes. Adelphi, February 3, 1836.

89. Robert le Diable, or. The Devil's Son (collaboration with Edward Fitzball). Adelphi, January 23, 1832.

90. Rural Felicity. Haymarket, June 9, 1834.

91- The Scarecrow (first performance unknown), a later performance was given at the Marylebone, November 28, 1848.

92. The Scholar. Haymarket, July 1, 1835.

93. The Sea Serpent, or, The Wizard and the Winds. Adelphi, October 3, 1831 (collaboration with Edward Fitzball).

94. Second Thoughts, or, The Breach of Promise (performed many times as The Breach of Promise). Haymarket, August 4, 1832.

95. Shocking Events. Olympic, January 15, 1838.

96. Single Life. Haymarket, July 23, 1839.

97. The Sisters, or, Brigands of Albano. Adelphi, November 16, 1829. 98. The Sleeping Beauty in the Wood. Haymarket, December 26, 1857.

99. The Snake Kina (also billed as The Snake King, or, Harlequin and the Fairy of the Coral Branch). Royal Princess, • August 19, 1833.

100. Snakes in the Grass. Drury Lane, November 3, 1829.

101. The Snapping Turtles, or, Matrimonial Masquerading. Haymarket, November 14, 1842.

102. Solomon Smink, or. The M iller's Man and the Chevalier. New National Theatre, Philadelphia, November 2, 1840.

103. Theodore the Brigand, or, The Corsican Conscript. Sadler's Wells, July 14, 1828.

104. The Thimble Rig-. Haymarket, October 3, 1844.

105. The Three Bears.

106. Tom Noddy's Secret (attributed to Buckstone by John S. Kendall).

107. The Two Queens, or, Politics in Petticoats. Olympic, O ctober 8, 1835.

108. Uncle John. Haymarket, October 15, 1833.

109. Victorine, or, I'H Sleep on It. Adelphi, October 17, 1831.

110. Vidocq, the French Police Spy. Coburg, July 6, 1829.

111. Wanted a Partner, or, A Bill Due (originally titled Wanted a Partner, or, A Bill Due September 29th). Adelphi, September 29, 1828.

112. Weak Points (also billed as Weak Points, or, Nothing’ Like Wheedling). Haymarket, April 28, 1838.

113. Widow Wiggins (attributed to Buckstone by Benjamin Webster). 181

114. Winning a Husband (attributed to Buckstone by Samuel French).

115. The Wreck Ashore, or, A Bridegroom from the Sea. Adelphi, October 25, 1830 (first called Miles the Mirauder).

116. The Young Quaker. Bath, March 16, 1829. APPENDIX II

INCIDENT OF BUCKSTONE WITH EDMUND KEAN

Buckstone first met Edmund Kean in a very unusual manner.

The interesting account of this incident with Kean wras recorded by

I. L. Toole. 1

lJoseph Hatton, Reminiscences of J. L. Toole (London: George Routledge and Sons, Ltd., 1892), pp. 112-113.

Buckstone was engaged when quite a boy for utility business at Hastings. Wombwell's show proved an overwhelming counter- attraction to the theatre. Affairs were desperate, when the manager called the company together, discussed the situation, and agreed with them that a strong new play which he had just obtained, and which was a great hit at the Surrey, might retrieve their fortunes. In this piece the boy Buckstone was cast for an unimportant part; but he went out upon the Downs to study it. A gentleman who was loitering in the locality followed him during the third day of his work, and eventually addressed him: "You appear to be deeply interested in your book, my young friend; what may it be?" The question was asked in a gracious and courteous manner, and Buckstone promptly handed the book to the stranger. "Oh, indeed, " said he, "the new drama they are playing in London 1 You have evidently a taste for dramatic literature. " "I am a member of the company of actors now playing at Hastings, " Buckstone replied. "Indeed," said the stranger, "I am fond of dramatic works, especially those of Shakspere." CSic.l

182 183

"Ah.1" said the boy, MWilliam Shakspere [sic] is not a gentleman of my acquaintance yet, but I hope to be on speaking terms with him some day. " "I hope you may be, " said the stranger. "And how are you doing at the theatre? I trust business is good?" "No, sir; I am sorry to say it is very bad. There is a wild-beast show in the town, which has emptied the theatre. The truth is, the management is hard up; if the new piece does not draw, I am afraid we shall all be ruined; a friend of mine, Cooper the scene-painter, had saved a five-pound note for a rainy day, kept it in his watch-case, watch was stolen last night, and affairs are not at all rosy with any of us. But the benefit season is beginning, and that will help us through perhaps. " The stranger said he would like to see the theatre, wondered if the boy could show him over the house, felt an interest in players, and so on. The boy piloted him to the theatre, with an eye to patronage for his own benefit. When the stranger had seen the house, and gathered more information about the management, he thanked the boy for his courtesy and attention, and was about to take his leave. At that moment, a post-chaise drove up to the doors of the theatre, and none other than Mr. Elliston, then manager of Drury Lane, jumped out and effusively book the hand of the stranger, saying, "My dear friend, I have been looking everywhere for you; you must return to town at once; in your absence business has been ruinous; must announce you for Richard on Monday. " "I came here with your consent to study my part in the new tragedy, " said the stranger. "We must put that off, " said Mr. Robert William Elliston. "On one condition, " said the other. "Name it," said Elliston. "That you will remain here and play with me tomorrow night for the benefit of our unfortunate brethren. " "Agreed," said Elliston. That night it was announced that on the following evening the pieces would be The Merchant of Venice - Shylock by Edmund Kean and The Liar - Wildrake, R. W. Elliston. The result was a house that enabled the management to pay all back salaries, to buy Cooper a new watch and note, and money enough to take the troupe com­ fortably to the next town of Dover. APPENDIX III

ANECDOTE OF BUCKSTONE

The following anecdote describes an experience Buckstone had early in his career when he was a strolling player. 1

1 Ac tors by Daylight and Pencilings in the Pit, I, No. 11 (May 12, 1838), 85-86.

fBuckstone| was once engaged to play at Wellborough, in Northamptonshire, and had travelled on foot eighty miles to the scene of action; he arrived there in company with three other heroes of the sock and buskin, one of whom had been his com­ panion in many a singular freak of misfortune; and as few country actors can come off a journey of eight miles with much of his world's wealth in their possession, our hero was, of course, what is termed - "short, " i._e. without one half-penny in his pocket; and waiting on the manager, discovered him to be as "short" as himself, but was assured that in a day or two the theatre would open - that the magistrates had given permission - fine large barn bespoke - capital theatrical town - always good benefits, and salary sure. Soothed by so brilliant a prospect, he and his three friends adjourned to a public-house where they made known their profession to the landlord, and concluded an agreement for board and lodging on very moderate terms; an excellent supper and bed followed. The next morning the four went out to view the town - the site of the theatre - the laughing country lasses, etc. and returned with a good appetite to a good dinner. A day or two passed very delightfully in walking, angling, and other-pleasant pastimes, when lol the manager entered one morning, with despair in his countenance, and stated that the unexpected opposition had taken place, on the part of the magistrates, who had withdrawn their, permission

184 185 for the opening of a theatre, and was afraid they should be compelled to leave the town. What was to be done? The company met, - a petition was drawn out in due form by our hero, - was presented to the proper authorities, and a reply was to be given on the following day. The reply came at the very moment the four had received their bill for a week's board and lodging, with a cruel, suspicious glance from the landlady - the reply was, "that no theatre should be allowed, that the company had better leave the town - and if the men wanted work, they, the magistrates, would employ them in breaking stones on the highway." The parable of scripture was visited upon them - they asked for bread and received a stone. The company separated, and our party were left to consider how they should discharge their week's bill for board and lodging - this was eleven o'clock on Saturday - they walked out to plan ways and means, and returned to the accustomed dinner; none was forthcoming - thought that the folks at Well- borough might not eat dinners on Saturdays, so waited patiently for tea - but alas 1 none appeared: supper - not a crust. Went to bed - rose on Sunday morning to breakfast - saw nothing but a bare table, and angry looks: at length, literally starved, our hero, the oracle of the party, waited on the landlady and solicited for himself and companions something to eat, that they might be enabled to proceed to Northampton, to raise some money - it was stoutly refused; not a morsel would be given till the bill was paid. One o'clock arrived, and the party looking out o' window into the street, experienced the tortures of Tantalus, in witnessing the passing to and fro of joints, pies, etc. from the neighbouring bake­ houses; the smell of a dinner in the house reached their olfactories, and anxious glances were directed to the door, in the hope that the stern landlady might relent and send in a snack - but no door opened; the faint clatter of knives, forks, and plates was heard, and then all was still as death. Eight and twenty hours had elapsed, and not a morsel had entered their mouths - again was the landlady entreated - but "no, the bill must first be paid:" another hour passed, the conversation turned upon people who had been starved to death, and other localities; when the door opened, the party started. The land­ lord, who had been out all the day, entered with a quartern loaf, some cheese, and a pot of porter, placed them on the table, told them they might eat, but intimated that in the morning he should take them before a magistrate. The eatables 186 were demolished in "no time, " and hunger being somewhat appeased, the topic of discourse was the Vagrant Act in its various bearings, and gentle hints were whispered of getting out of the house and town as quickly as possible; but our hero’s inexpressibles being somewhat tattered and torn, and having in his bed-room a better pair, also a decent shirt, and a waistcoat or so, returned to his companions, consider­ able increased in size: the plan was much admired, and likewise adopted with them, and now came the difficulty of getting out of the house. It was a fine summer's evening, and the window of the room they occupied was thrown up, and the party looking into the street, suggested an egress thereby; this had scarcely been proposed, when the shrill voice of the landlady was heard on the stairs, exclaiming - "Where be the shirts as was on the bed?" this was the signal for desperation. They escaped from the window onto the street, and ran with speed out of the town, and it was not until they reached a corn­ field, some two miles from thence, that they ventured to halt and take breath; where concealing in the field, they disencum­ bered themselves of their unnecessary apparel, and proceeded to Northampton, in great glee. This was the climax of "Little Buckey's moving accidents, " though he has encountered many equally as pitable and singular. APPENDIX IV

EXCERPT FROM SPEECH OF BUCKSTONE

The following excerpt was taken from a speech Buckstone made at a banquet for the Royal General Theatrical Fund in 1855.

It concerns his experiences as a country actor. 1

lw. J. Macqueen-Pope, Haymarket: Theatre of Perfection (London: W. H. Allen, 1948), pp. 288-289.

I was a country actor and amongst other vicissitudes, once walked from Northampton to London - seventy-two miles - on 4-1/2d. As it may interest you, gentlemen, I will describe my costume on that occasion, and how we got to London. My costume consisted of a threadbare whitey- blue coat, with tarnished metal buttons, secured to the throat, because I wore underneath it what we term a flowered waistcoat, made of glazed chintz, and of a very showy pattern, generally adopted when playing country boys and singing comic songs, which at that time was my vocation. I will not attempt to describe my hat; while my trousers must only be delicately alluded to, as they were made of what was originally white duck, but as they had been worn about six weeks, and having myself been much in the fields, there was a refreshing tint of green and clay colour about them which imparted to that portion of my attire quite an agricultural appear­ ance. I carried a small bundle. I will not describe its entire contents, except that it held a red wig and a pair of russet boots. Under my arm was a portfolio, con­ taining sketches from Nature and some attempts at love poetry; while on my feet, to perform this distance of seventy-two miles, I wore a pair of dancing pumps, tied

187 188

up at the heels with pack thread. Thus equipped, I started with my companion from Northampton and before breakfast we accomplished fifteen miles, when we sat down to rest under a hedge at the roadside. We felt very ' much disposed to partake of the meal I have alluded to, but were rather puzzled how to provide it. Presently a cow-boy appeared, driving some lazy zigzagging cows, and carrying two large tins containing skimmed milk. We purchased the contents of one of the cans for l/2d. A cottage was close at hand, where we applied for bread, and procured a very nice, though rather stale, half-quartern home baked loaf for Id. The cow-boy sat by us on that roadside to wait for his can. The cows seemed to regard us with a sleepy look of mingled pity and indifference, while with the bottom of the crust of that loaf and three pints of skimmed milk, I assure you, enjoyed the roadside breakfast of that summer morning more than I have enjoyed the sumptuous banquet of this evening. On the first day we walked forty miles, in which my pumps and what they covered, as the Yankees say, "suffered some. " Our bed for that night was in one of those wayside hostelries called "a common lodging house for travellers, " for which accommodation we disbursed 2d. Late in the evening of the next day we completed the remaining thirty-two miles, and found ourselves at the 'Mother Red Cap' at Camden Town, with enough in our pockets to procure half a pint of porter. Thus, you see, gentlemen, I have experienced some of the vicissitudes of a country actor. SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY

189 SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY

Books

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______. The Old Drama and the New: An Essay in Re-Evaluation. Boston: Small, Maynard and C o., 1923.

Armstrong, C. F. A Century of Great Actors. London: Mills and Boon, L td ., 1912.

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______. History of the London Stage and Its Famous Players, 1576- 1903. London: George Routledge and Sons, Ltd., 1904.

Bancroft, Marie, and Bancroft, Squire. The Bancrofts: Recollec­ tions of Sixty Years. London: John Murray, Ltd., 1909.

Belton, Fred. Random Recollections of an Old Actor. London: Tinsley Brothers, Ltd., 1880.

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Carson, William G. B. The Theatre on the Frontier. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1932.

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______. Nights at the Play: A View of the English Stage. London: Chatto and Windus C o ., L td ., 1883.

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______. The Romance of the English Stage. Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott C o ., 1875.

Hartnoll, Phyllis (ed.). The Oxford Companion to the Theatre. London: Oxford University Press, 1951.

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Ireland, Joseph I. Records of the New York Stage. Vol. II. New York: T. H. MorellCo., 1867.

Kendall, JohnS. The Golden Age of the New Orleans Theatre. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1952.

Lawrence, William John. Old Theatre Days and Wavs. London: G. C J E arrap C o ., L td ., 1935.

Macqueen-Pope, W. Havmarket, Theatre of Perfection. London: W. H. Allen C o ., L td., 1948.

Marston, Westland. Our Recent Actors. Boston: Roberts Brothers, 1888.

Maude, Cyril. The Havmarket Theatre. London: Grant Richards C o ., 1903.

Morley, Henry. Journal of a London Playgoer. London: George Routledge and Sons, Ltd., 1886.

Nicoll, Allardyce. A History of English Drama, 1600-1900 (2d ed.). Vol. IV. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1955.

Odell, George C. D. Annals of the New York Stage. Vols. HI and IV. .New York: Columbia University Press, 1928.

______. Shakespeare from Betterton to Irving. 2 vols. New York: C harles S crib n er's Sons, 1920.

Planehe^ James R. Recollections and Reflexions of J._R. Planche^ 2 vols. London: Tinsley Brothers, Ltd., 1872.

Rowell, George. The Victorian Theatre: A Survey. London: Oxford University Press, 1956.

Sharp, Farguharson. A Short History of the English Stage from Its Beginnings to the Summer of the Year 1908. London: The W alter Scott C o ., L td ., 1909.

Southern, Richard. Changeable Scenery: Its Origin and Development in the British Theatre. London: Faber and Faber, Ltd., 1952. 193

Stephen, Sir Leslie, and Lee, Sir Sidney (eds.). Dictionary of National Biography. Vol. EH. London: Oxford University Press, 1917.

Towse, John Rankin. Sixty Years of the Theatre. New York: Funk and Wagnalls, 1916.

V ardac, A. Nicholas. Stacre to Screen: T heatrical Method from Garrick to Griffith. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1949.

Watson, Ernest Bradlee. Sheridan to Robertson: A Study of the Nineteenth Century London Stage. Cambridge: Harvard Uni­ v e rsity P re s s , 1926.

Wilson, Arthur H. A History of the Philadelphia Theatre, 1835 to 1855. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1935.

Articles and Periodicals

Actors by Daylight, and Pencilings in the Pit, Vol. I, No. 11 (May 12, 1838).

______, Vol. I, No. 13 (May 26, 1838).

The Athenaeum. Vol. HI, No. 126 (March 27, 1830).

______, Vol. IV, No. 179 (April 2, 1831).

______, Vol. VI, No. 288 (May 4, 1833).

______, Vol. XV, No. 782 (October 22, 1842).

______, Vol. XXIH, No. 1030 (July 24, 1847).

______, Vol. XXIH, No. 1043 (October 23, 1947).

______, Vol. XXIV, No. 1100 (November 25, 1848).

______, Vol. XCVI, No. 1357 (October 29, 1853).

. Vol. XCVI, No. 1366 (December 31, 1853).

______, Vol. CXH, No. 1377 (November 16, 1861). 194

The Athenaeum, Vol. CXXXH, No. 23 44 (October 7, 1871).

______, Vol. CXLVIH, No. 2713 (November 8, 1879).

The Critic: A Weekly Review of Literature. Fine Arts, and the D ram a. Vol. I, No. 22 (A pril 4, 1829).

The Exam iner. Vol. XIX, No. 483 (May 19, 1816.

______, Vol. XX, No. 1027 (October 7, 1827).

______, Vol. XXI, No. 1056 (April 27, 1828).

______, Vol. XXI, No. 1079 (October 5, 1828).

______, Vol. XXII, No. 1136 (November 8, 1829).

The Literary Gazette and Journal of Belles Lettres, Vol. XIII, No. 654 (August 1, 1829).

. Vol. xm , No. 655 (August 9, 1829).

The London Magazine. Vol. I, No. 3 (March, 1820).

The Spirit of the Times. Vol. X (August 1, 1840).

______, Vol. X (August 17, 1840).

The Theatre. Vol. I, New Series (December 1, 1878).

______, Vol. IE, New S eries (Decem ber 1, 1879).

The Theatrical Inquisitor. Vol. XVE (October, 1820).

Acting Editions

Buckstone, John Baldwin. The Flowers of the Forest. New York: Samuel French, Inc., n. d.

______. Luke the Labourer. London: Samuel French, n. d.

______. The Rough Diamond. London: Samuel French, n. d. 195

Manners, J. Hartley. Peg O1 My Heart. New York: Samuel French, Inc., 1918.

Shakespeare, William. Twelfth Night, or, What You Will. New York: Samuel French, Inc., n. d.

Prompt Books

The Flowers of the Forest. George Becks, Prompter. Courtesy New York Public Library. OSU Film No. P. 309.

Luke the Labourer. Courtesy New York Public Library. OSU Film No. P. 321.

______. C ourtesy New York Public L ibrary. OSU Film No. P . 1335.

Married Life (Haymarket, 1834). Courtesy New York Public Library. OSU Film No. P . 323.

Twelfth Night (Haymarket, 1856), John B. Buckstone, Prompter. Courtesy Folger Shakespearian Library. OSU Film No. P . 938.

______(Haymarket, 1867), John B. Buckstone, Prompter. Courtesy Folger Shakespearian Library. OSU Film No. P . 937.

Unpublished Material

Adelsperger, Walter, "Aspects of Staging of Plays of the Gothic Revival in England. " Unpublished Ph. D. dissertation, The Ohio State University, 1959.

Kirschner, Richard Lee. "A Production and Production Book of George Buchner's Wossech and John B. Buckstone's Popping the Question. " Unpublished M. F. A. thesis, University of Texas, 1953. AUTOBIOGRAPHY

I, Malcolm George Gressman, was born in Greensburg,

Pennsylvania, April 27, 1923. I received my secondary-school education at Sewickley Township High School, Herminie, Penn­ sylvania, and my undergraduate training at Otterbein College,

Westerville, Ohio, which granted me the Bachelor of Arts degree in 1948. F rom June 2, 1943, until F ebruary 19, 1946, I served in the United States Army during World War H. From the Ohio State

University I received the Master of Arts degree in 1950. Since 1950

I have been on the faculty of Anderson College, Anderson, Indiana, and at present am an associate professor of speech and director of theatre. During summers and sabbatical leaves of absence I have been completing a course of study leading to the Doctor of Philosophy degree at the Ohio State University.

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