A Christmas Tale

This morning, I finished reading Zapolya: A Christmas Tale, S.T. Coleridge's holiday story of love, usurpation, and alleged lycanthropy.

After the success of his tragedy Remorse, Coleridge wanted to provide a Christmas entertainment for the Theatre Royal at Drury Lane. (Werewolves are traditional for Christmas, right?) Drury Lane passed, but the play ended up being performed at the Surrey Theatre (also known as the Royal Circus) in 1818.

Playbills for the Surrey gave the play the subtitle "The War Wolf" since its plot involves a mysterious cave supposed to be haunted by a supernatural creature of that name. In reality, there is no such creature in the play. Instead, the cave is inhabited by an Illyrian chieftain named Raab Kiuprili. (Like Twelfth Night, another Christmas entertainment, the play is set in Illyria.)

In a note in the published text, Coleridge stated: "For the best account of the War-wolf or Lycanthropus, see Drayton's Mooncalf, Chalmers' English Poets, Vol. IV, p. 133." According to the Jacobean poet Michael Drayton's The Mooncalf, a sorcerer used "an herb of such a wond'rous pow'r" and "thrice saying a strange magic spell" turned himself into "a war-wolf instantly" who would rob anyone who passed through a certain forest. He also "ravish'd" women, in some cases actually eating their flesh as well.

In Drayton's version of lycanthropy, the werewolf also steals children from a nearby town and carries off the fattest sheep of local shepherds. Eventually, the villagers decide to hunt the beast, but the werewolf (or "war-wolf" in Drayton's spelling) turns back into a man and pretends to join them on their hunt. At last, the werewolf is exposed and torn to pieces by the locals.

This depiction of lycanthropy is quite different from what's shown in the Hollywood film The Wolf Man, for which screenwriter Curt Siodmak created his own mythology. It's perhaps more similar to the werewolves in Boccaccio's Decameron or Le Morte d'Arthur of Sir Thomas Malory.

An even closer parallel to Coleridge's drama might be found in The Duchess of Malfi by John Webster. In that play, the character of Ferdinand believes himself to be a wolf, though he is not. Ferdinand's case is one of mental illness, though, not a mistake of those around him.

Far from being a werewolf, Kiuprili is a patriot and a hero who preserves the life of the true king and helps bring about the fall of a usurper. Even if Christmas werewolves aren't our thing today, we can still support the downfall of tyrants, I think.

The Tragedy of Ina

After Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s verse tragedy Remorse became a hit in 1813, many writers with literary ambitions turned to the stage, hoping to repeat the poet's success.

One of them, Barbarina Wilmot, had her play Ina premiered at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane in 1815. In the first scene, the Mercian princess Edelfleda’s maid Bertha even cries out, “Oh heaven! thou speak’st as tho’ remorse / Had stung thy bosom.”

Edelfleda counters that remorse more rightfully belongs to the man who has wronged her, Prince Egbert of Wessex, who was engaged to Edelfleda by his father in order to secure peace with Mercia. However, he is actually in love with Ina, Edelfleda’s beloved friend.

For his part, Egbert thinks of Edelfleda as a sister, while he is passionately in love with Ina, the orphan daughter of a warrior who died saving the king. That king, Egbert’s father Cenulph, decides to resolve the quandary by sending his son off to war defending the kingdom’s border, but Egbert instead flees with Ina.

Act II begins with Egbert brought back to his father, who reprimands him for placing himself above the good of his people. The problem is that Egbert and Ina have not only been secretly married already, but they even have a child together. Edelfleda leaves in a passion, declaring she will have vengeance. When the Mercian forces invade, Cenulph has little choice but to allow his son to lead an army against them.

In the following act, Edelfleda goes to Ina and tells her that Egbert has been imprisoned and placed in chains. This was briefly true, but is no longer, as becomes apparent when Egbert himself arrives. Thwarted, Edelfleda leaves, quietly vowing Ina’s death. Alwyn, the king’s faithful retainer, arrives and offers to take Ina and her child to safety as Egbert goes off to war. All of them are aware of the dangers present at court, not just from Edelfleda but also from the monk Baldred, who was once himself in love with Ina. 

Indeed, Baldred captures Ina and in the next act brings her to trial for treason. The trial scene allows Ina, who was originally played by Sarah Smith Bartley, to shine in her own defense, but it is in vain, and she is sentenced to death. In the final act, she appeals to the king and escapes her execution, but Egbert, returning to her home, finds her gone and expects the worst. Just before he kills himself, Ina returns, and the play has a happy ending, depriving the actor who plays Egbert of a death scene.

Who was that actor originally? It was none other than Edmund Kean, an otherwise brilliant performer who ended up giving such a weak portrayal of Egbert that the play was only presented at Drury Lane for a single night. Reviewers praised Julia Glover as Edelfleda, but she was unable to carry the show.

Is there a lesson here? Perhaps it's to always give your leading actor a juicy death scene, at least if your leading actor happens to be Edmund Kean.

Remorse and Shakespeare

I previously blogged about theatre articles that appeared recently in The Byron Journal. Today, I want to write about an article in The Coleridge Bulletin.

Samuel Taylor Coleridge is best known today as a poet, but by his own account, he made more money off of his verse drama Remorse than all of his other poetry combined.

Dominik Laciak wrote an article called "Coleridge's Remorse and the Haunting Shadow of Shakespeare" which argues that Coleridge's playwriting and Shakespeare criticism informed one another, which definitely makes sense. Remorse opened at Drury Lane in January of 1813, and throughout the rehearsal process Coleridge was also delivering lectures on Shakespeare.

Laciak concentrates on three Shakespeare villains who likely influenced the character of Ordonio in Remorse: Macbeth, Richard III, and Iago. Like Macbeth, Ordonio feels guilt but tries to pretend that he doesn't. Like Richard III, he is constantly posturing. Like Iago, he takes pride in his intellect.

I wrote about Remorse in my book Romantic Actors, Romantic Dramas. It's nice to see other scholars writing about the play as well.

Joanna Baillie's Circle

A recent issue of The Coleridge Bulletin published some new letters from Sara Coleridge, daughter of poet and dramatist Samuel Taylor Coleridge. I was surprised to learn that she was acquainted with the playwright Joanna Baillie, and the two had a number of friends in common.

I had known that Baillie frequently corresponded with the painter Thomas Lawrence and the writer Walter Scott, but the letters reveal that her circle also included not just Sara Coleridge, but other notables including the poet Maria Jane Jewsbury and the playwright William Sotheby.

Writing to Jewsbury on November 3rd, 1830, Sara Coleridge noted "Mrs. Baillie we often see and are more & more delighted with her" and that Baillie had "been staying a few days with Mr. Sotheby." Sotheby's play Julian and Agnes had been performed at Drury Lane in 1801, the year after Baillie's De Monfort premiered there. Both plays featured the same leads, the brother-sister duo of John Kemble and Sarah Siddons.

Two years later, Sara Coleridge wrote that "Mrs. J. Baillie has been at the point of death with a low fever, but is happily recovered." Baillie ended up living well into her 80s, and didn't die until 1851. She rose to fame after the first volume of her Plays on the Passions was published in 1798.

That volume included her comedy The Tryal, which will be getting a staged reading next month at the Theatre Royal in Bury St Edmunds. You can find more information about it here.

Reviewed in THE BYRON JOURNAL

I'm pleased to find that my new book Romantic Actors, Romantic Dramas has been positively reviewed in The Byron Journal.

Julie Carlson previously reviewed the book for The Coleridge Bulletin, paying particularly close attention to the chapter I have on S.T. Coleridge's Remorse. Given that the book also has a chapter on George Gordon Byron's Manfred, it's not surprising that The Byron Journal reviewed it as well.

Timothy Ruppert of Slippery Rock University wrote the review. "I think it is quite likely that Romantic Actors will help to foster a desperately needed renovation in the study of Shelley, Byron, and other theatre-makers whose contributions have been unacknowledged or poorly understood," Ruppert wrote. "Armstrong merits commendation for his vision, lucidity, and persuasiveness, as well as for his fortitude in positing a new way of seeing Regency-era stagecraft."

This issue of The Byron Journal also has an article by Jane Stabler, who gave the Annual Byron Scotland Lecture at the opening of last month's conference for the British Association for Romantic Studies. Susan J. Wolfson, Maria Schoina, David Duff, and Peter W. Graham also contributed articles to the issue.

Reviewed in COLERIDGE BULLETIN

Noted scholar Julie Carlson has reviewed my new book Romantic Actors, Romantic Dramas: British Tragedy on the Regency Stage in the latest issue of The Coleridge Bulletin.

The journal is published by The Friends of Coleridge, which celebrates the life and work of the poet and dramatist Samuel Taylor Coleridge, author of the tragedy Remorse, among other works. My book contains a chapter on Remorse, which made it an apt piece to be reviewed in the journal.

Carlson is a major figure in the study of British Romanticism, and is perhaps best known for her 1994 book In the Theatre of Romanticism: Coleridge, Nationalism, Women. I was thrilled to find she's reviewed my own book, noting that it offers a "bold corrective" to those who resist acknowledging Coleridge's standing as a practical playwright.

My book emphasizes the roles of actors in shaping dramas during the Regency period in Britain. In the case of Remorse, the magnificent Julia Glover played a crucial role in the play's success. Though Glover is not as well known as other actors I examine in the book--including Sarah Siddons, Edmund Kean, and Eliza O'Neill--she helped to make Remorse a rousing success on stage.

As Carlson notes in her review, during the rehearsal process Coleridge exhibited a "new receptiveness to the revolutionary power of women and the strength of their influence." This is no doubt attributable at least in part to Glover, who has been sadly neglected by historians of the theatre.

I hope other publications review the book with the sensitivity and insight Carlson displayed.

My Book on Sale!

If you've been wanting to order a copy of my new book, Romantic Actors, Romantic Dramas, but were putting it off because copies were too expensive, now is the time to get one, as the book is currently on sale for $24.99!

That's only if you get the hardcover edition, of course. If you want the e-book, you still have to pay $89. Yes, the illustrations are in color in the electronic version, but not only is there no substitute for paper, but the hard copy is currently cheaper, so why not get it?

Click here to order the book. I'm not sure how long the sale will last, so you might want to order it soon. The publisher, Palgrave Macmillan, is also advertising free shipping on select orders. Oh, and if you're in Europe, they're advertising books for €24.99 as well. (That's slightly more expensive at current exchange rates, but might be cheaper than paying conversion fees.)

The full title of the book is Romantic Actors Romantic Dramas: British Tragedy on the Regency Stage. It reinterprets British dramas of the Romantic era through the lens of the star actors for whom they were written. In addition to providing an overview of the period, the book provides four in-depth case studies of actors and the playwrights they influenced: Sarah Siddons and Joanna Baillie, Julia Glover and S.T. Coleridge, Edmund Kean and Lord Byron, and Eliza O'Neill and P.B. Shelley.

Hopefully, you'll find it insightful and filled with interesting surprises!

The Book Is Finally Out!

After a long wait, my new book Romantic Actors, Romantic Dramas: British Tragedy on the Regency Stage is now available from publisher Palgrave Macmillan.

The book reinterprets British dramas of the Romantic era through the lens of the star actors for whom they were written. It is the first book-length study to examine the interplay of early 19th century actors and the dramatists writing for them.

I've tried to answer questions about how and why actors from the Romantic period influenced major writers. The work focuses on four pairs of actors and playwrights: Sarah Siddons and Joanna Baillie, Julia Glover and S.T. Coleridge, Edmund Kean and Lord Byron, and Eliza O'Neill and P.B. Shelley.

If you're interested in any of those people, you'll want a copy of this book. Unfortunately, both the e-book and the hardcover version are rather pricey at the moment, but Palgrave Macmillan does frequently have sales, so keep your eyes open for possible discounts to come.

In the meantime, ask your local library to order a copy. The hardcover is still not officially released, but you will be able to pre-order the physical book soon. Electronic versions are available already.

The cover image features Eliza O'Neill. Interior images include a mezzotint of Siddons, a toy theatre version of Coleridge's play Remorse, a close-up photograph of a screen owned by Lord Byron, and a cartoon comparing Siddons and O'Neill.

British Romantic Theatre Salon

Covid-19 has cancelled a number of conferences, or at least driven them online. Last week, the British Association for Romantic Studies began its International Digital Conference, which runs until this Friday.

I've already Zoomed in for a panel on "Poetic Reckonings" that discussed Joanna Baillie, a panel on "Communicative Powers" that covered letters between Fanny Brawne and Fanny Keats, a panel on "Appropriations and Reworkings" that examined how German heroines were adapted for the London stage, and a panel on "Weaving the Gothic" that addressed the gothic tales of Percy Shelley.

Today's virtual salon on Romantic Theatre was the best, though. Sarah Burdett, from St. Mary's University in Twickenham, did an excellent job hosting the event. I was happy to find that she has a great interest in Samuel Taylor Coleridge's play Remorse and the actress Julia Glover who helped to make it such a success. I was also pleased to hear of other people who have taught Baillie's play De Monfort.

Though opportunities to see live theatre are still relatively few and far between, there are performances available online right now, and I discovered at the salon that Yale University's staged reading of the Horace Walpole play The Mysterious Mother is currently available on YouTube. Francesca Saggini, who teaches at Università degli Studi della Tuscia in Italy, is planning on doing some virtual readings of plays by Fanny Burney, which could be a lot of fun.

On Thursday and Friday, there will be more panels, including one on scandals around Lord Byron, and one on "Visuality and Self" that will cover Mary Robinson as well as other figures. Though it hasn't been as fun as attending the BARS Conference in Nottingham in 2019, I'm glad I've at least had some contact with other scholars of Romantic drama this summer.

The Siddons of Bath

The Irish actress Sarah Smith was supposed to be the next big thing in the early nineteenth century. Unfortunately, the most promising bright new stars sometimes disappoint.

Not a lot is known about Smith's early years. She was probably born in Liverpool around 1783. As a child, she appeared onstage in Elizabeth Inchbald's comedy Every One has his Fault at a theatre in Salisbury.

At 16, Smith played Joanna in a regional production of The Deserted Daughter by Thomas Holcroft. After that, she went to Edinburgh, where she worked for Stephen Kemble. Smith apparently tried to leave the stage, but ended up working the circuit in the North of England for a while, before moving on to Birmingham and then Bath.

It was in Bath that Sarah Siddons had found an audience, and with that great tragedienne in mind, some people started referring to Smith at the "Siddons of Bath" given her star turns in tragedies. Thomas Harris saw her there and invited her to come perform at his theatre in Covent Garden in London. On October 2, 1805, she made her London debut in John Vanbrugh's play The Provoked Husband. As was the case with Siddons's first debut in London, though, it seemed the city was not quite ready for her yet.

In 1808, Smith went to Ireland, where audiences embraced her acting. London audiences began to warm to her eventually, and in 1811 she joined the rival company to Covent Garden at Drury Lane. The theatre at Drury Lane had burned down in 1809, so for a while the company had to perform elsewhere, but in 1812 their new theatre opened with a production of Hamlet. This is the same theatre there today, so if you go to London you can see the very building in which Smith performed. After a successful reopening, the company turned to a new play by an established writer, and at the beginning of 1813 they premiered Remorse by Samuel Taylor Coleridge.

I've blogged about Remorse before, so I'll just say that everyone was expecting Smith to be the star, but she sadly did not shine. The following year she married the actor George Bartley, and her marriage seems to have been a happy one. The couple travelled to America in 1818 and made quite a bit of money touring.

Here's a picture of Smith playing Imogen in Cymbeline. It was never her most famous role, but I still would like to have seen her in it.

Edmund Kean's Shylock

On this day in 1814, Edmund Kean appeared as Shylock on the stage of the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane.

It would launch Kean's career, but it was not the first time he had appeared on a London stage. Writing 72 years later in the October issue of The Theatre, Percy Fitzgerald recalled Kean's "most extraordinary career." According to Fitzgerald, Kean "had been literally reared on the stage" and had "performed the young Arthur to Mrs. Siddon's Constance" in William Shakespeare's King John.

Childhood appearances with Sarah Siddons were not the actor's only experience in London prior to his Drury Lane triumph. Fitzgerald recounts an appearance at the Theatre Royal, Haymarket on 30 July 1806, when Kean appeared as "Clown" in the farce Fortune's Frolic. Playing the role of Dolly in that production was "Mrs. Gibbs" whom I take to be Maria Gibbs, née Logan, who made her London debut at the Haymarket in 1783.

After his appearance as "Clown" Kean returned to touring the provinces, and it was in Dorchester that he was rediscovered. Robert William Elliston invited him back to London to act in one of the "minor theatres." Fitzgerald writes that a certain "Dr. Drury" recommended Drury Lane hire Kean instead, and one "Mr. Arnold" came out to see the actor for himself. On 14 November 1813, Kean acted in The Mountaineers with "few people in the pit and gallery and three persons in the boxes." In spite of the small house, Kean determined to play his best, and his efforts were rewarded. He was given the opportunity to appear at Drury Lane, a pleasure mixed with sorrow, as his son Howard was very ill at the time.

Soon after Kean received news he would have a London engagement, Howard died. "His grief was such that he did not care for the brilliant opening," Fitzgerald writes. Kean had to stay longer in Dorchester than he anticipated in order to attend to the business of his son's death. When he arrived in London, he appeared "defiant, suspicious, jealously independent, very poor, almost to squalor" and the committee at Drury Lane saw him as a "listless, shabby postulant." They apparently rebuked Arnold and tried to use Kean's bargain with Elliston as an excuse to void their own agreement with him. Kean engaged in "desperate exertion" to free himself from his engagement to perform at a minor theatre, and according to Fitzgerald, "it was said Elliston was rather glad to be free."

After a "single rehearsal, it was pronounced that it would be a certain failure," Fitzgerald writes. The day of his performance was "wet and miserable" and Kean that night "arrived soaked through" at his shared dressing room. His fellow performers noticed something curious about the way Kean dressed himself for Shylock: "he was putting on a black wig instead of the traditional red one." In the eighteenth century, Shylock had generally been played as a clown. (After all, Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice is in fact a comedy.) The actor Charles Macklin had pushed back against that tradition, but the red wig had remained. What was wrong with this guy? Didn't he even know which costume he was supposed to wear? The stage manager at the performance gave Kean up as "hopeless," Fitzgerald says.

The cast of The Merchant of Venice that night boasted some of the actors who had premiered S.T. Coleridge's drama Remorse the previous year. Alexander Rae, who had played Ordonio in Coleridge's tragedy, appeared as Bassanio, and Sarah Smith, who originated the role of Teresa in Remorse, came on in the choice role of Portia. Smith was once considered the most promising actress in Britain, but by 1814 she had turned out to be a disappointment. Thus, Kean had few fellow actors in the cast who could compete with his performance. After the first act, people began to realize that Kean's Shylock was "a great success." He went home afterward and reportedly said of his son Charles Kean, "Charley, my boy, you shall go to Eton!"

The younger Kean did in fact go to school at Eton, but later fell so far in life he had to resort to acting, just like his father. That, however, is another story.