"HALF-PRICE AT NINE O'CLOCK."
The plan of admitting the public to the theatres at "half-price,"
after the conclusion of a certain portion of the entertainments of the
evening, has, of late years, gone out of fashion. Half-price was an
institution of old date, however, and by no means without advantage to
the playgoer.
Formerly, the prices of admission to the theatres were not fixed so
definitely as at present. In Colley Cibber's time it was held to be
reasonable that the prices should be raised whenever a new play was
produced, on account of which any great expense in the way of scenery,
dresses, and decorations had been incurred, or when pantomimes were
brought out, involving an outlay of a thousand pounds or so. After the
bloom had a little worn off these novelties, the prices fell again to
their old standard; consisting for some years of four shillings, two
shillings and sixpence, eighteenpence, and one shilling.
In November, 1744, when Mr. Fleetwood was manager of Drury Lane, he
was charged by the public with raising his charges too capriciously,
without the excuse of having presented his patrons with a new or a
costly entertainment. Thereupon ensued a disturbance in the theatre,
and Mr. Fleetwood was required by the audience to give an immediate
explanation of his conduct. The manager pleaded that not being an
actor he was exempt from the necessity of appearing on the stage
publicly before the audience; but he gave notice, through one of his
players, that he was willing to confer with any persons might be
deputed to meet him in his own room. A deputation accordingly went
from the pit to confer with the manager, and the house waited
patiently their return. The result of the consultation was stated in a
note to the playbill of the following day (Saturday):
"Whenever a pantomime or farce shall be advertised, the advanced
prices shall be returned to those who do not choose to stay; and, on
Thursday next, will be published the manager's reasons for his conduct
in the present dispute."
This arrangement was very far from giving satisfaction, however, and
the disturbance was renewed the next night. A country gentleman, who
had distinguished himself by the warmth and violence of his
expressions of disapproval, was forcibly removed by the constables
from the upper boxes and carried before a magistrate, who, however, it
would seem, declined to entertain the charge against the offender. The
theatre was closed for two or three nights, and a notice appeared in
the playbills: "The great damage occasioned by the disturbances makes
it impossible to perform." The manager published an address to the
public in _The General Advertiser_, setting forth a statement of the
case and justifying his conduct.
He reminded the public that the extraordinary disturbances which had
lately occurred greatly affected their diversions as well as his
property. He apprehended that the reasons of complaint assigned were,
"the exhibition of pantomimes, advanced prices, and insults on the
audience." As to the first charge, he submitted that, however
distasteful pantomimes might be to the delicacy of some judgments, yet
they were suited to the taste of many others; and as the playhouse
might be considered as the general mart of pleasure, it was only from
the variety of entertainment the different desires of the public could
be supplied. He urged that the receipts of the house were sufficient
evidence that without the occasional performance of pantomimes he
could not afford to produce plays of a higher class. With regard to
the advance in prices, he hoped he should be thought justified in that
measure, when the great increase in his expenses was considered.
Further, he conceived he should be no longer the subject of the
displeasure of the public, since he had complied with the demand that
the advanced prices should be returned to those who quitted the
theatre after the first piece, without waiting to see the pantomime.
He denied that he had ever had any intention to insult the audience.
The arrest of the gentleman in the upper boxes was not in consequence
of his orders, nor was he in anyway acquainted with the fact until
after the discharge of the prisoner. There had been a quarrel in the
theatre and much confusion consequent upon some persons flinging the
candles and sconces on the stage. He denied that he had employed
"bruisers" to coerce the audience. The peace-officers, carpenters, and
scenemen (which last, on account of the pantomime, were very
numerous), and other servants of the theatre, had not appeared until
the tumult was at its height. The benches were being torn up, and
there were threats of storming the stage and demolishing the scenes.
If any "bruisers" were in the pit, the manager presumed that they must
have entered the house with the multitude who came in after the
doorkeepers had been driven from their posts. Finally, he appealed to
the public to pronounce whether, after the concession he had made, and
the injury he had sustained, to the extent of several hundred pounds,
they would persist in a course which would only deprive them of their
diversions, the players of subsistence, and compel him to resign his
property.
This appeal had its effect: the disturbance ceased: although there was
some discontent that an arrangement so profitable to the manager had
been agreed to. It was found that in practice, when people were once
comfortably seated, "very few ever went out to demand their advanced
money; and those few very soon grew tired of doing so; until at last
it settled in the quiet payment of the advanced prices." Mr.
Fleetwood, however, did not long continue in the management.
In the year 1763 there occurred another disturbance. An adaptation of
Shakespeare's "Two Gentlemen of Verona," by Mr. Benjamin Victor, had
been produced at Drury Lane Theatre. It was played five nights with
success, but, on the sixth, when, according to the old theatrical
custom, the receipts went to the author of the adaptation, the
performance was interrupted. "A set of young men," writes Mr. Victor,
"who called themselves 'The Town,' had consulted together and
determined to compel the manager to admit them at the end of the third
act at half-price to every performance except in the run of a new
pantomime; and they chose to make that demand on the sixth night of
'The Two Gentlemen of Verona,' though it was printed on the playbills
'for the benefit of the author of the alterations.'" The performance
of the play was actually forbidden. One Mr. Fitzpatrick, who was the
avowed ringleader of the reformers, harangued the audience from the
boxes, and set forth in very warm language the impositions of the
managers, vehemently pleading the right of the public to fix the price
of their bill of fare. Garrick came forward to address the house, but
was received with a storm of disapprobation, and refused a hearing.
The uproar continued; the benches were torn up, and the lustres and
girandoles broken. Ultimately, the money taken at the doors was
returned to the audience, and the theatre cleared.
On the following night, Mr. Mallet's tragedy of "Elvira" was played
for the first time. The disturbance was renewed, and Mr. Garrick was
called for. He was asked peremptorily: "Will you or will you not give
admittance for half-price after the third act of a play, except during
the first winter a pantomime is performed?" The manager, dreading a
repetition of the riot of the preceding evening, replied in the
affirmative. A demand was then made for an apology from Moody the
actor, who had interfered to prevent the theatre being fired. Moody
appeared, and, after an Irish fashion, expressed regret that he had
displeased the audience "by saving their lives in putting out the
fire." This pleasantry was very ill received. Mr. Fitzpatrick's party
insisted that the actor should go down on his knees and implore their
pardon. Moody refused with an oath, and abruptly quitted the stage. He
was received with open arms by Garrick in the wings, who assured him
he should not suffer for his spirited conduct. But the tumult in the
theatre became so great, that the manager was compelled to promise
that Moody should not appear on the stage while he was under the
displeasure of the public. A reconciliation was some time afterwards
brought about between the actor and his audience. It may be noted that
in 1763, according to a manuscript memorandum in his own hand
(discovered by Mr. Parkes), Sir Phillip Francis, the supposed
"Junius," commenced to write anonymously for the Press, the occasion
being "a row in a theatre, to help Fitzpatrick out of the scrape."
Mr. Fitzpatrick's plan of reform was supposed to be chiefly levelled
at Mr. Garrick, yet it became evident that the management of the rival
theatre must be made to accept the regulations that had been imposed
on Drury Lane. With this view the rioters paid a visit to Covent
Garden, where the opera of "Artaxerxes" was being represented. Mr.
Fitzpatrick delivered his inflammatory speech from the boxes, and
insisted upon immediate compliance with the demands of his party. Mr.
Beard, the manager, replied with great firmness. He stated that operas
had never been performed at such low prices as at his theatre; that
his expenses were very great; and, he urged, that the public should
not grudge the full price of admission, seeing that no expense in the
way of actors, dresses, scenery, music, and decorations of all kinds,
had been spared for their entertainment. Finally, he declined to
accept the tariff of admission proposed by Mr. Fitzpatrick. A riot
then ensued, and so much damage was done that the carpenters were
employed for four or five days in repairing the theatre. Mr. Beard,
however, by means of a chief justice's warrant, brought two or three
of the rioters before Lord Mansfield. His lordship solemnly cautioned
Mr. Fitzpatrick that if any loss of life were to occur in consequence
of the breach of the peace he had instigated, the law would hold him
accountable for the disaster. This somewhat checked the violence of
the rioters, who contented themselves thenceforward with laughing and
hissing, and forbore to inflict injury upon the furniture and fittings
of the theatre. Mr. Beard, at last, finding it impossible to keep open
the doors of his theatre to any purpose, submitted to the terms of the
dictators; peace was restored, and half-price established.
The exception made in favour of new pantomimes was much remarked upon
at the time. It was declared that the effect of the arrangement would
be to exalt a worthless class of entertainment at the expense of
tragedy and comedy; in order to obtain full prices the managers would
be encouraged to produce a succession of pantomimes, to the neglect of
works of real dramatic worth. Further, it was declared that the
proceedings of Mr. Fitzpatrick, though professedly in the interests of
the public, were, in truth, due to motives of private resentment and
malice. According to Davies, in his "Life of Garrick," there would
seem to be much reason for this charge. Mr. Fitzpatrick was a
gentleman of moderate fortune, constantly attending the theatres,
frequenting the coffee-houses about Covent Garden, and dabbling in
dramatic criticism. He had been introduced to Garrick, had been
received with much favour by the great actor, and placed on the free
list of Drury Lane. His success somewhat turned his brain. He began to
conceive himself a person of great importance. He assumed severely
critical airs, and published letters in "The Craftsman," dealing with
the players, and especially with Garrick, after a very arrogant and
acrimonious fashion. Garrick took up his pen to reply, and in his poem
"The Fribbleriad"--the hero of which is named Fizgigg--he rather
severely satirised his critic. Churchill, following suit, to the
eighth edition of his "Rosciad" added fifty lines, scourging Mr.
Fitzpatrick savagely enough. The "half-price" disturbance was the
method of replying to these attacks of the actor and his friend, which
Mr. Fitzpatrick found to be the most suitable and convenient. Arthur
Murphy, however, says for Mr. Fitzpatrick, that he was admired for his
talents and amiable manners, and that Churchill caricatured him in the
"Rosciad" to gratify the resentment of Garrick. In any case, however,
it would be hard to justify the riot of which Fitzpatrick was
certainly the instigator.
In 1817, the experiment was tried at the English Opera House, or
Lyceum Theatre, of giving two distinct performances in the evening, in
lieu of taking half-price at nine o'clock. The management alleged that
objection had been taken to the length of theatrical performances,
which were often made to extend over five hours; that the half-price
system did not remedy the evil complained of by those whose habits of
life or avocations would not permit their early attendance at the
theatre. "Many persons who would be desirous to witness the early part
of a performance, are indisposed to pay the price of a whole evening's
entertainment, for that portion of it only which they can enjoy; and
it may reasonably be supposed that thousands who might wish to enter
the theatre at a later hour (as at the usual time for second price),
are wholly excluded by the certainty of finding the best seats
occupied. Thus numberless persons, from the one or the other cause,
are deterred from frequenting the amusements of the stage." In order,
therefore, to accommodate the patrons who required the performances
to commence at an early hour, and to gratify those who demanded that
the entertainments should be continued until late, it was proposed to
divide every evening's entertainment into two distinct parts or
performances. Each performance was to consist of a full three-act
opera; or of a short opera with a ballet or musical entertainment. The
first performance was to begin at six o'clock, and to last till about
nine; and the second performance was to begin at half-past nine, and
to conclude at twelve; the prices to either performance being
considerably reduced. "We are fully aware," said the public address of
the management, "that we shall have to encounter many professional
jokes on this occasion, but we are prepared to smile at the
good-humoured raillery of our friends, and the hostile attempts of our
enemies, who may both, perhaps, be inclined to call this a
'Bartholomew Fair scheme.' Let them call it what they will, we know
that our sole aim is to exist by your favour, and by devising all
means for your entertainment, till we ultimately receive an honest
reward for our labours."
The new plan was not found to work very well, however. A very thin
audience attended the first performance, and a few hisses were heard
in opposition to the project; the friends of the management applauding
lustily. At the conclusion of the first entertainment, certain
obstinate persons refused to resign their seats and make way for their
successors, though the stage lamps were extinguished and they were
threatened with total darkness. The manager then came forward, and
formally announced that the first performance had concluded. One or
two then threw their money on the stage, as the price of their
admission to the second performance, and finding that the malcontents
were resolved to keep their seats, the manager submitted and retired.
The plan was only continued for ten nights, when the theatre was
closed for the season. In a farewell address, the manager stated that
the experiment, so far as he could judge, had succeeded; during the
ten nights, compared with the ten nights preceding, an addition of
one-third having been made to the number of persons visiting the
theatre. Still, he did not feel justified in pledging himself to
continue the arrangement in future seasons. There was indeed no
further trial of the double-performance system in lieu of half-price.
It is rather curious to find the plan of half-price having any sort
of effect upon dramatic literature, yet we find, in the "Autobiography
of Thomas Dibdin," 1827, the following advice, given him by Lewis, the
stage-manager at Covent Garden, in regard to writing for the stage,
and apropos of Mr. Dibdin's comedy, called "Liberal Opinions":
"MY DEAR TOM,--This will be your first five-act production, and don't
be offended if an old practitioner ventures to offer (from the respect
he bears you) the fruits of his long experience. Half-price is a very
proper privilege for those whose time or pockets do not afford them an
opportunity of visiting the theatre earlier; but it is often the bane
of an author on the first night of a five-act play. The new-comers
know nothing of the foregone part of the drama; and having no context
with which to connect allusions in the fourth and fifth acts, are apt
to damn without consideration that which they are no judges of--
And what they cannot comprehend deny.
"To be fore-armed against this contingency, contrive to make some
character (either in the heat of passion, or in any way you please)
briefly run over all the foregoing parts of the story, so as to put
everyone in possession of what they otherwise would have lost by
absence; and, take my word, you will reap the benefit of it."
Mr. Dibdin expresses so much gratitude for Mr. Lewis's counsel, and
recommends it so earnestly to the consideration of all young
dramatists, that we cannot doubt that some effect upon subsequent
writings for the stage must in this indirect way have resulted from
the half-price system, and in avoidance of its disadvantages, as set
forth by the stage-manager of Covent Garden Theatre.