The 'Poisonous Dragonflies' of Restoration London

by Deborah Swift

Scene from The Libertine

Charles II's reign is known as the Restoration in English history. This is because Charles was restored to the throne in 1660 after the Commonwealth period during which Oliver Cromwell and his more repressive Puritan views had set the moral tone. When the King came back from exile he brought with him a Court which had taken on the laxer morals of France and was determined to impose them. Charles II himself was a womaniser and reveller, and soon he gathered a coterie of wild and dangerous young men around him.They could do almost anything they wanted and get away with it, very often under the protection of the King himself, which is why their behaviour was tolerated, even if it was outrageous or repellent by usual standards. 

The Wits

The most infamous rogues of Charles II's court were the Duke of Buckingham and the Earl of Rochester. Both were members of a young group of courtiers called 'The Wits' so named because of their literary pretensions, and their reputation for quick repartee.

In this period of the seventeenth century, sandwiched between the rigours of puritanism and the later tragedies of the Plague and the Great Fire of London, the mood was one of
'a very merry, dancing, drinking, laughing, quaffing and unthinking time' (John Dryden)

The Earl of Rochester was described by John Burnet as 'a lawless and wretched mountebank; his delight was to haunt the stews, to debauch women, to write lewd songs and filthy pamphlets.'
Johnny Depp plays the Earl of Rochester in this trailer for his Biopic 'The Libertine'

Kidnap of an heiress

Rochester was banished from court and committed to the Tower of London after kidnapping an heiress. Elizabeth Malet was a wealthy young woman, and Rochester hoped she would solve his mounting debt problem with her considerable fortune. At first she was flattered and agreed to the match, but then changed her mind. Rochester ambushed her coach at Charing Cross and attempted to take her away, but the King had him pursued and arrested.

Lely, Elizabeth Malet 1667

In his diaries, Pepys describes Elizabeth Malet as the 'great beauty and fortune of the North' and notes the scandal of her kidnapping by Rochester: Apparently, she

'supped at White Hall with Mrs. Stewart, and was going home to her lodgings with her grandfather, my Lord Haly, by coach; and was at Charing Cross seized on by both horse and foot men, and forcibly taken from him, and put into a coach with six horses, and two women provided to receive her, and carried away. Upon immediate pursuit, my Lord of Rochester (for whom the King had spoke to the lady often, but with no successe) was taken at Uxbridge; but the lady is not yet heard of, and the King mighty angry, and the Lord sent to the Tower'

Even more weirdly, later in her life Elizabeth Malet relented and she and Rochester were married in 1666, and had a relatively stable marriage, with Elizabeth maintaining their country estate at Adderbury near Oxford.

Adderbury House, home of  Elizabeth Malet & the Earl of Rochester

True to form, Rochester could not remain faithful however, and continued to enjoy numerous mistresses. Charles II remained on good terms with Rochester, despite his hell-raising, because Rochester's father, the first Earl, had been a staunch supporter of the King during the Cromwell period, and had fought bravely for him in both military and political ways. Charles therefore had a debt of gratitude to his son. But also, Rochester was renowned for his wit and humour and was loved by the Court. He also used his powers of seduction to seek out possible mnistresses for the King - which put him in favour and in Charles's debt. When at home though, he was prepared to lampoon life at court;

We have a pritty witty king
Whose word no man relies on.
Who never said a foolish thing,
Nor ever did a wise one.

A ring of poisonous dragonflies

Rochester and Buckingham influenced in turn a 'fast set' of impressionable men at court. These men were nicknamed by Andrew Marvell, 'The Merry Gang.' Hester Chapman in her book Great Villiers calls them 'a ring of poisonous dragonflies', which is a wonderful description as it describes how beautiful they looked, but also how dangerous they were.

Two of them, Sir Charles Sedley and Lord Buckhurst were responsible for an incident outside the Cock Tavern in Bow Street where they postured naked on a balcony and made obscene gestures to the crowd of more than a thousand people below. (Good taste prevents me from relating this incident in more detail!) Lord Buckhurst was also renowned for being one of the lovers of Nell Gwyn.

Many of The Merry Gang were also writers and playwrights of talent, involved with the new Vere Street Theatre. The theatre used to be Gibbons's tennis court, and was the home of Thomas Killigrew's company from 1660 to 1663.

Buckingham, Killigrew and Etheredge were all playwrights as was Wycherley whose work is still performed even today. Below you can see a modern production of The Country Wife, still going strong nearly four hundred years later. I sometimes draw on Wycherley's plays to give a flavour of period dialogue in my books.

A production of The County Wife by Wycherley

Sedley was a talented writer, but in 1679 during the performance of one of his plays, the theatre roof fell in, injuring him. A flattering friend remarked that the play was so good and full of fire it had blown up the theatre, but Sedley apparently said:

Nonsense! It was so heavy it brought down the house and buried the poet in his own rubbish.' 

So the Merry Gang were also renowned for their humour as well as their darker exploits. And I wonder if this is where we get the phrase to 'bring the house down'?!

Sedley is also occasionally associated with a notorious gang of rakes who called themselves Ballers and who were active between 1660 and 1670. Pepys says of them ' their mad bawdy talk did make my heart ake'. Their chief claim to fame, according to Pepys, was orgies and dancing naked at Lady Bennet's whorehouse. It was probably Sedley who wrote the Ballers' Oath on behalf of them, which is too lurid to print here!

The Man of Mode

George Etheredge's play, The Man of Mode alluded to this group of men, although Etheredge was probably the least wild of the group, earning him the nickname 'Gentle George' or 'Easy Etheredge.'  The Man of Mode is widely considered one of the best comedies of the Restoration period. Produced in 1676, its success can be attributed to the fact it satirises his well-known contemporaries. Sir Fopling Flutter was a portrait of Beau Hewitt, a famous rake, and a notorious diner-out. He undertook the management of the bath-rooms at Bath, and conducted the public balls there. The character Dorimant was a reference to Rochester, and Medley a portrait of his fellow playwright and wit Sir Charles Sedley. Even the drunken shoemaker in the play was a real character, who afterwards made his fortune on the streets of London from the publicity the play brought him.

In my book The Gilded Lily, Sedley, Buckhurst and George Etheredge all make a threatening appearance. The lives of the Merry Gang are fascinating and complex, and for those who would like to know more I can recommend the following books:

The Lives of the English Rakes by Fergus Linnane
Constant Delights:Rakes Rogues and Scandal by Graham Hopkins
Charles II and the Duke of Buckingham - David Hanrahan
A Gambling Man, Charles II and the Restoration - Jenny Uglow

Look out for more information on the Restoration Theatre from Annie Whitehead, coming soon on December 17th.

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Deborah Swift is the author of four historical novels and a teen trilogy, all available in paperback as well as ebook. Her first novel was shortlisted for the Impress Prize in the UK. You can find her on twitter @swiftstory or sample a free book by signing up for her newsletter at www.deborahswift.com

Reynolds, Siddons and the Tragic Muse

by Catherine Curzon

Last month, I wrote of the remarkable celebrity of Sarah Siddons, the first lady of the Georgian stage who was so celebrated for her portrayal of Lady Macbeth. Among her fans was Sir Joshua Reynolds, the near legendary Georgian artist, and he memorialised Mrs Siddons forever in his remarkable 1784 work, Mrs Siddons as the Tragic Muse.

This portrait has been an inspiration to me for many years and a print hangs in pride of place in my sitting room, where it often attracts compliments. When I look at this painting I see a remarkable piece of theatre, and one that rightly confirmed the actress's status as a superstar of the tragic stage, preserving Mrs Siddons forever as a figure of graceful authority, the living embodiment of Melpomene, the muse of tragedy.

When Mrs Siddons arrived to sit for the portrait, Reynolds told his adored subject, "Ascend upon your undisputed throne, and graciously bestow upon me some great idea of the Tragic Muse". Mrs Siddons accordingly draped herself in a somewhat monarchical fashion on her throne and in doing so appeared to assume the pose adopted by Isaiah on the Sistine Ceiling. However, she claimed that this was nothing but coincidence, having chosen this position when she found the initial pose requested by Reynolds to be too uncomfortable to hold. Whether this is true we cannot know but Mrs Siddons was well aware of the power of celebrity and perhaps was giving her own near-mythical reputation a helping hand!

Regardless of the thought behind it, the pose is unmistakably graceful and in her opulent gown and pearls, the actress's noble bearing is evident in every inch of the canvas. For all of the grace and nobility, though, her expression is troubled, and the painting is one that shows a woman in some conflict. Emerging from the shadows behind her throne are the figures of Aristotle's Pity and Fear. Recalling her role as Lady Macbeth they clutch a dagger and a chalice and Fear's features were modelled on Reynolds' own grimace, which he painted from reflection.

This painting is remarkable in its subtle use of light and shadow. The colours are subdued yet striking, and the arms and face of the sitter draw the eye with their vibrancy. Despite or perhaps because of the simple and muted palette, the painting draws and holds the attention; in fact, the dress was initially intended to be blue but Reynolds repainted it in the brown and gold we see today. This blends the primary figure of the actress into the background even as she is kept apart by the brightness of her features versus the misty figures that flank her, a luminous figure and one that demands attention.

The painting was an utter sensation when it was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1784 and Reynolds placed a mind-boggling one thousand guinea price tag on the canvas. To this day it is regarded as one of the finest works of 18th century painting and has played a part in the enduring reputation of both actress and artist. It is perhaps fitting, then, that Reynolds signed the portrait across the bottom of Mrs Siddons's dress and told her, "I have resolved to go down to posterity on the hem of your garment." That signature is no longer visible but this magnificent painting remains, as remarkable now as it was then.

Sources

Perry, Gill, Spectacular Flirtations: Viewing the Actress in British Art and Theatre 1768-1820, (Yale University Press, 2007)
Perry, Gill and Roach, Joseph, The First Actresses: Nell Gwynn to Sarah Siddons, (National Portait Gallery, 2011)
Postle, Martin, Joshua Reynolds: The Creation of Celebrity, (Tate Publishing, 2005)

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Glorious Georgian ginbag, gossip and gadabout Catherine Curzon, aka Madame Gilflurt, is the author of A Covent Garden Gilflurt’s Guide to Life. When not setting quill to paper, she can usually be found gadding about the tea shops and gaming rooms of the capital or hosting intimate gatherings at her tottering abode. In addition to her blog and Facebook, Madame G is also quite the charmer on Twitter. Her first book, Life in the Georgian Court, is available now, and she is also working on An Evening with Jane Austen, starring Adrian Lukis and Caroline Langrishe.

"Tragedy personified": Sarah Siddons as Lady Macbeth

By Catherine Curzon

The term "showbiz legend" is much bandied about these days when it comes to the world of entertainment, sometimes with less reason than others. Sarah Siddons, the first lady of the Georgian stage, was truly deserving of that lofty title. From humble beginnings she rose to the pinnacle of her craft, leaving her adoring fans gripped with Siddons fever as they flocked to her performances in droves. Famed as a tragedian, she will forever be associated with one particular role, that of Shakespeare's Lady Macbeth.

Sarah Siddons as Lady Macbeth by Henry George Harlow, 1814

When the celebrated Mrs Siddons played the lady of Dunsinane for the first time on 2nd February 1785, she was just 29 years old. With her tall, commanding figure and strikingly handsome looks Siddons made an instant and lasting impact; she would return to the role multiple times over the four decades that followed, making the part entirely her own. 

The majestic actress was known for the passion and fervour of her performances, bringing a deep understanding to each role as she practised the method of her day. Theatrical legend has it that, so intense was her portrayal and so blazing the look in her eyes, swooning ladies in the audience had to be carried from the theatre in order to recover their composure. The essayist, William Hazlitt, famously wrote that Siddons was "tragedy personified"[1], a sentiment with which her fans certainly agreed. 

In fact, away from the stage her life contained tragedy enough to inspire a thousand such performances. Her marriage to William Siddons ended in separation and five of their seven children predeceased their mother. She channelled her unhappiness into performances of startling intensity, focusing particularly on the famous hand washing scene. Siddons broke with tradition by setting down Lady Macbeth's candle to instead concentrate on repeated, hypnotising motions as she washed the blood from her hands again and again.

Sarah Siddons by Thomas Gainsborough, 1785

In her essay, Remarks on the Character of Lady Macbeth [2], Siddons shares her thoughts on the role and the reasoning behind her own stylistic choices. She displays a rich understanding of Lady Macbeth, whom she considers to be "made by ambition, but not by nature, a perfectly savage creature". The essay makes for fascinating reading, offering deep insight into this most remarkable actress and the way in which she approached her roles. 

Georgian theatre is occasionally depicted as an almost ridiculous place, with overblown performances and overheated thespians but in Remarks on the Character of Lady Macbeth we are privy to share what would appear to be a modern approach to the text, with Siddons examining dialogue, movement and psychology in her efforts to inhabit the role.

After a long and celebrated career, Sarah Siddons gave her farewell performance in the role that she had made her own at the Covent Garden Theatre on 29th June 1812. The reaction of the audience to the sleepwalking scene was so rapturous that they gave an ovation that seemed as though it might never end, forcing the curtain down. After a short delay in which the adoring applause continued, the curtains opened again to show Sarah sitting on stage in her own clothes, no longer in character. Once the crowds finally fell silent she gave a farewell speech of almost ten minutes in length, the actress as overcome with emotion as the audience who adored her.

References and Sources

[1]   Hazlitt, William, Selected Writings. (Oxford, 2009), p. 339

[2]   Siddons, Sarah, "Remarks on the character of Lady Macbeth" as quoted in  Campbell, Thomas, Life of Mrs. Siddons. (New York, 1834). 

Perry, Gill, Spectacular Flirtations: Viewing the Actress in British Art and Theatre 1768-1820, (Yale University Press, 2007)
Perry, Gill and Roach, Joseph, The First Actresses: Nell Gwynn to Sarah Siddons, (National Portait Gallery, 2011)

Glorious Georgian ginbag, gossip and gadabout Catherine Curzon, aka Madame Gilflurt, is the author of A Covent Garden Gilflurt’s Guide to Life. When not setting quill to paper, she can usually be found gadding about the tea shops and gaming rooms of the capital or hosting intimate gatherings at her tottering abode. In addition to her blog and Facebook, Madame G is also quite the charmer on Twitter. Her first book, Life in the Georgian Court, is available now, and she is also working on An Evening with Jane Austen, starring Adrian Lukis and Caroline Langrishe.

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Mysteries, Miracles and Tableaux: Early Theater in England

by Katherine Ashe

Theater, in England as in ancient Greece, originally was an expression of religion. Scholars pin the beginning of English theater at about 960 and identify the Quem Queritis as the first play. An Easter presentation, it's an enactment of the Three Marys coming to Jesus' tomb and finding the Angel. A priest, dressed in white, sat on the church's altar as three enactors approached: monks or priests dressed as women, or, in a convent, nuns played the Marys.

Here's the whole text of the play: “Quem queritis in sepulchro, o Christicolae?” “Whom do you seek, o Christians?” The women respond, “Ihesum Nazarenum crucifixum, o Coelicolae.” “Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified, o Celestial.” He replies, “Non est hic: surrexit sicut preadixerat. Ite, nuntiate quia surrexit de sepulchro.”
“He is not here: He has risen, as he predicted. Go, announce that he has risen from the tomb.”

That's the whole thing. The play was soon adapted for Christmas, the seekers coming to Christ's manger. The great popularity of such enactments led to their proliferation, but in the thirteenth century Pope Innocent III banned the clergy from performing or permitting such enactments within the church building itself.

Church performances merely moved to the porches and outer steps or to freestanding stages in public marketplaces, where they were displayed on feast days and performed by honored members of the parish. Interestingly, women seem to have performed the female roles, although, when professional theater developed in the 16th century, female roles were performed by adolescent boys and women were banned from the stage.

Early on these theatricals took two forms, scripted enactments and tableaux or “living pictures.” We know of an Adam and Eve in Paradise tableau from its mention in the Chronica Majora, which tells us that in January, 1236, King Henry III's wedding procession passed through the play's Gate of Paradise, complete with nearly naked Adam and Eve greeting him and his bride, and no doubt shivering in the snow. This play apparently was leant to Henry's festivities by Saint Paul's Cathedral.

The mouth of Hell was particularly popular, possibly also for its theatrical nudity of both sexes. Somehow the fact that the people don't move seems to have made nudity in tableaux acceptable.

Separately, the London Guilds began their own forms of theatricals. The guilds, which were religious as well as mercantile and craft organizations, produced plays and tableaux of their patron saints. These, in contrast to the performances belonging to the churches -- these last called Mystery Plays -- have come to be known as Miracle Plays. Less is know about the early development of the tableaux as they had no scripts and the ledgers that would have recorded their costs probably were lost in the various conflagrations London suffered.

The guilds' theatricals were mounted on what are now referred to as pageant wagons, which were paraded through city streets during religious festivals. There are abundant illustrations of the later pageant wagons: sometimes quite elaborate vehicles with settings as backdrops for costumed players frozen in poses associated with each guild's patron saint, or enacting a significant moment in the saint's life. Occasionally the saint's “play” was combined with a tableau of the Life of Christ, as in the case of the pageant wagon below, where the Nativity is pictured at the back of the wagon, guilds' saints at the front and on the sides.

Simultaneous to the flowering of the tableaux were the guilds' Miracle Plays, centered upon the guilds' various patron saints.

To name just a few of the subjects: Saint Eligious had begun his career as a goldsmith and was patron of all metalworkers including blacksmiths (possibly one of the side figures above.) The caterers favored Saint Lawrence - because he died on a grill and always was shown being roasted. Saint Apollonoia, who suffered the torture of having her teeth pulled out, was of course the patron of dentists. Here she is, on a temporary stage rather than a wagon. Violence has been popular in theater for a very long time. Simultaneous to the flowering of the tableaux were the guilds' Miracle Plays, centered upon the guilds' various patron saints.

As the tableaux were becoming more elaborated, so were the Mystery Plays dealing with scenes from the New Testament. The Coventry cycle consisted of ten plays depicting the life of Christ. Here is a Christ being judged by Pontius Pilate.

The York Cycle apparently consisted of forty-eight plays. The plays continued as popular entertainment during appropriate church holidays until they were banned in the late 16th century.

By then a variety of Mystery Play had developed that suggests a bawdy forerunner of Shakespeare's scenes designed to appeal to the “groundlings.” The surviving Second Play of the Shepherds of the Wakefield Cycle serves as an example. Here the central characters are a husband and wife, Mac and Gill, who are thieves. Three shepherds come to Mac's cottage searching for their stolen lamb. Mac tells them his wife has just given birth and mustn't be disturbed, but the shepherds find their lamb wrapped up as the “new born” in Gill's cradle. After punishing Mac by tossing him in a blanket, the shepherds return to their flocks, and an angel announces to them the birth of the Savior in Bethlehem. To a modern sensibility this takeoff on the Virgin Birth of the Lamb of God is rather stunning, and perhaps explains in part why the Mystery Plays eventually were closed down.


Note: the pictures included here date from the 15th to the 19th centuries. There are no know illustrations of the early plays.