Part 3 (1/2)
They were licensed accordingly; the dialogue was all omitted, and the ingenious actor aided his benefit by saving 8 8s. or 10 10s., which would otherwise have found their way into the pocket of the Examiner.
When the French plays were performed in London, in 1829, Colman insisted that a fee must be paid for every vaudeville or other light piece of that cla.s.s produced. As some three or four of such works were presented every night--the same plays being rarely repeated--it was computed that the Examiner's fees amounted upon an average to 6 6s. a night. During an interval, however, the Duke of Devons.h.i.+re succeeding the Duke of Montrose as Chamberlain, this demand was not enforced; eventually a compromise was agreed upon, and a reduced fee of 1 1s.
was levied upon each vaudeville, &c. Colman even succeeded in rating as a stage play, an astronomical lecture, delivered at the Lyceum. The ”At Homes” of Mathews were of course taxed, a ”slight sketch and t.i.tle” being submitted to the Examiner, the actor professing to speak without any precise text, but simply from ”heads and hints before him to refer to should his memory falter.” In an attempt to levy a fee on account of an oratorio performed at Covent Garden, Colman failed, however; it was proved that the libretto was entirely composed of pa.s.sages from the Scriptures. After great discussion it was ultimately decided that the Bible did not need the license of the Lord Chamberlain.
Colman died in 1836, and was succeeded as Examiner of Plays by Mr.
Charles Kemble, who, strange to say, while holding that appointment returned to the stage for a short season and performed certain of his most celebrated characters. He resigned the office in 1840, and his son John Mitch.e.l.l Kemble then held it in his stead. On the death of John Mitch.e.l.l Kemble, in 1857, Mr. William Bodham Donne, the late Examiner, received the appointment. Mr. Donne, however, had in truth performed the duties of the office as the deputy of the Chamberlain's deputy since the year 1849. As he informed the Parliamentary committee of 1866, he had received a salary of 320, subject to deduction on account of income-tax. Further, the Examiner receives fees for every play examined. Two guineas are paid for every play of three acts or more; under three acts the fee is 1 1s. For every song sung in a theatre a fee of 5s. is paid. As Mr. Donne explained to the committee, he had examined between 1857 and 1866 about 1800 plays.
It is to be noted that in 1843 the Act for Regulating Theatres, commonly known as Sir James Graham's Act, became law. By this measure the powers of the Lord Chamberlain were enlarged and more firmly established; he was empowered to charge such fees as he might deem fit in regard to every play, prologue, epilogue, or part thereof, intended to be produced or acted in Great Britain, although no fee was in any case to exceed 2 2s. in amount. Further, it was made lawful for him, whenever he should be of opinion that it was fitting for the preservation of good manners, decorum, or of the public peace so to do, to forbid the performance of any stage play, or any act, scene or part thereof, or any prologue or epilogue or any part thereof, anywhere in Great Britain or in any such theatre as he should specify, and either absolutely or for such time as he should think fit. It was enacted, moreover, that the term ”stage play” should be taken to include ”every tragedy, comedy, farce, opera, burletta, interlude, melodrama, pantomime, or other entertainment of the stage.”
The Act provides for no appeal against the decision of the Chamberlain. His government was to be quite absolute. If he chose to prohibit the performance of Shakespeare's plays, for instance, no one could question his right to take that strong measure; only another Act of Parliament could, under such circ.u.mstances, restore Shakespeare, to the stage. Of the Examiner of Plays the Act made no mention: that office continued to be the creation simply of the Lord Chamberlain, and without any sort of legal status. The old Licensing Act of 1737 was absolutely repealed; yet, unaccountably enough, Mr. Donne's appointment, bearing date 1857, and signed by the Marquis of Breadalbane, then Lord Chamberlain, began: ”Whereas in consequence of an Act of Parliament, made in the tenth year of the reign of His late Majesty King George the Second,” &c. &c.
The intensity of George Colman's regard for ”good manners and decorum”
has no doubt furnished a precedent to later Examiners. For some time little effort was made again to apply the stage to the purposes of political satire. Mr. Buckstone informed the Parliamentary Committee that an attempt made about 1846, to represent the House of Commons upon the stage of the Adelphi--Mr. Buckstone was to have personated the Lord John Russell of that date--had been promptly forbidden; and the late Mr. s.h.i.+rley Brooks stated that a project of dramatising Mr.
Disraeli's novel of ”Coningsby” had also, in regard to its political bearing, been interdicted by the Chamberlain. Few other essays in this direction appear worth noting, until we come to a few seasons back, when certain members of the administration were caricatured upon the stage of the Court Theatre, after a fas.h.i.+on that speedily brought down the rebuke of the Chamberlain, and the exhibition was prohibited within his jurisdiction. But the question of ”good manners and decorum” has induced much controversy. For where, indeed, is discoverable an acceptable standard of ”good manners and decorum”? In such matters there is always growth and change of opinion. Sir Walter Scott makes mention of an elderly lady, who, reading over again certain books she had deemed in her youth to be of a most harmless kind, was shocked at their exceeding grossness. She had unconsciously moved on with the civilising and refining influences of her time. And the question of morality in relation to the drama is confessedly very difficult to deal with. ”It must be something almost of a scandalous character to warrant interference,” says Mr. Donne. ”If you sift the matter to the very dross, two-thirds of the plays of any period in the history of the stage must be condemned. Where there is an obvious intention, or a very strong suspicion of an intention to make wrong appear right or right appear wrong, those are the cases in which I interfere, or those in which there is any open scandal, or any inducement to do wrong is offered; but stage morality is--the morality of the stage, and generally, quite as good as the morality of the literature of fiction.” This does not define the Examiner's principle of action very clearly. As instances of his procedure, it may be stated that upon religious grounds he has forbidden such operas as the ”Nabuco” of Verdi and the ”Mose in Egitto” of Rossini, allowing them to be presented, however, when their names were changed to ”Nino” and ”Zora” or ”Pietro l'Eremita” respectively. On the other hand, while prohibiting ”La Dame aux Camelias”[1] of M. Alexandre Dumas fils, he has sanctioned its performance as the opera ”La Traviata.” ”I think,”
explained Mr. Donne, ”that if there is a musical version of a piece it makes a difference, for the story is then subsidiary to the music and singing.” Prohibiting ”Jack Sheppard” he yet licensed for representation an adaptation of a French version of the same piece.
Madame Ristori was not allowed to appear in the tragedy of ”Myrrha,”
and the dramas which French companies of players visiting this country from time to time have designed to produce, have been severely dealt with, the Examiner forgetting, apparently, that such works should rather be judged by a foreign than a native standard of ”good manners and decorum.” As a result, we have the strange fact of the Examiner stepping between the English public and what have been judged to be the masterpieces of the French stage.
[1] ”La Dame aux Camelias” obtained a license at last, and was played for the first time in England at the Gaiety Theatre, on the 11th June, 1881, with Mdlle. Sarah Bernhardt as the representative of the leading character.
The Chamberlain has also held it to be a part of his duty to interfere in regard to certain of the costumes of the theatre, when these seemed to be more scanty than seemliness required, and from time to time he has addressed expostulations to the managers upon the subject. It must not be concluded, however, that from his action in the matter, much change or amendment has ensued.
In America there is no Lord Chamberlain, Examiner of Plays, or any corresponding functionary. The stage may be no better for the absence of such an officer, but it does not seem to be any the worse.
In 1832, the late Lord Lytton (then Mr. Bulwer), addressing the House of Commons on the laws affecting dramatic literature, said of the authority vested in the Lord Chamberlain: ”I am at a loss to know what advantages we have gained by the grant of this almost unconst.i.tutional power. Certainly, with regard to a censor, a censor upon plays seems to me as idle and unnecessary as a censor upon books.... The public taste, backed by the vigilant admonition of the public press, may, perhaps, be more safely trusted for the preservation of theatrical decorum, than any ignorant and bungling censor who (however well the office may be now fulfilled) might be appointed hereafter; who, while he might strain at gnats and cavil at straws, would be without any other real power than that of preventing men of genius from submitting to the caprice of his opinions.”
CHAPTER V.
A BILL OF THE PLAY.
Are there, nowadays, any collectors of playbills? In the catalogues of secondhand booksellers are occasionally to be found such entries as: ”Playbills of the Theatre Royal, Bath, 1807 to 1812;” or ”Hull Theatre Royal--various bills of performances between 1815 and 1850;” or ”Covent Garden Theatre--variety of old bills of the last century pasted in a volume;” yet these evidences of the care and diligence of past collectors would not seem to obtain much appreciation in the present. The old treasures can generally be purchased at a very moderate outlay. Still, if scarceness is an element of value, these things should be precious. It is in the nature of such ephemera of the printing-press to live their short hour, and disappear with exceeding suddenness. They may be originally issued in hundreds or even in thousands; but once gone they are gone for ever. Relative to such matters there is an energy of destruction that keeps pace with the industry of production. The demands of ”waste” must be met: fires must be lighted. So away go the loose papers, sheets and pamphlets of the minute. They have served their turn, and there is an end of them.
Hence the difficulty of obtaining, when needed, a copy of a newspaper of old date, or the guide-book or programme of a departed entertainment, or the catalogue of a past auction of books or pictures. It has been noted that, notwithstanding the enormous circulation it enjoyed, the catalogue of our Great Exhibition of a score of years ago is already a somewhat rare volume. Complete sets of the catalogues of the Royal Academy's century of exhibitions are possessed by very few. And of playbills of the English stage from the Restoration down to the present time, although the British Museum can certainly boast a rich collection, yet this is disfigured here and there by gaps and deficiencies which cannot now possibly be supplied.
The playbill is an ancient thing. Mr. Payne Collier states that the practice of printing information as to the time, place, and nature of the performances to be presented by the players was certainly common prior to the year 1563. John Northbrooke, in his treatise against theatrical performers, published about 1579, says: ”They used to set up their bills upon posts some certain days before, to admonish people to make resort to their theatres.” The old plays make frequent reference to this posting of the playbills. Thus, in the Induction to ”A Warning for Fair Women,” 1599, Tragedy whips Comedy from the stage, crying:
'Tis you have kept the theatre so long Painted in playbills upon every post, While I am scorned of the mult.i.tude.
Taylor, the water-poet, in his ”Wit and Mirth,” records the story of Field the actor's riding rapidly up Fleet Street, and being stopped by a gentleman with an inquiry as to the play that was to be played that night. Field, ”being angry to be stayed upon so frivolous a demand, answered, that he might see what play was to be played upon every post. 'I cry you mercy,' said the gentleman. 'I took you for a post, you rode so fast.'”
It is strange to find that the right of printing playbills was originally monopolised by the Stationers' Company. At a later period, however, the privilege was a.s.sumed and exercised by the Crown. In 1620, James I. granted a patent to Roger Wood and Thomas Symc.o.c.k for the sole printing, among other things, of ”all bills for playes, pastimes, showes, challenges, prizes, or sportes whatsoever.” It was not until after the Restoration that the playbills contained a list of the _dramatis personae_, or of the names of the actors. But it had been usual, apparently, with the t.i.tle of the drama, to supply the name of its author, and its description as a tragedy or comedy. s.h.i.+rley, in the prologue to his ”Cardinal,” apologises for calling it only a ”play” in the bill:
Think what you please, we call it but a ”play:”
Whether the comic muse, or lady's love, Romance or direful tragedy it prove, The bill determines not.
From a later pa.s.sage in the same prologue Mr. Collier judges that the t.i.tles of tragedies were usually printed, for the sake of distinction, in red ink:
----and you would be Persuaded I would have't a comedy For all the purple in the name.