CORRECT COSTUMES.
The question of dress has always been of the gravest importance to the
theatrical profession. It was a charge brought against the actors of
Elizabeth's time, that they walked about the town in gaudy and
expensive attire. The author of "The Return from Parnassus," first
published in 1606, but held to have been written at an earlier date,
specially refers to the prosperity, and the consequent arrogance of
the players. He is believed to have had in view Alleyn or even
Shakespeare:
Vile world that lifts them up to high degree,
And treads us down in grovelling misery!
England affords these glorious vagabonds,
That carried erst their fardels on their backs,
Coursers to ride on through the gazing streets,
Sweeping it in their glaring satin suits,
And pages to attend their masterships.
But it is clear that these "glorious vagabonds" were regardful that
their dress should be splendid merely. There was no thought then as to
the costumes of the stage being appropriate to the characters
represented, or in harmony with the periods dealt with by the
dramatists. Nor did the spectators find fault with this arrangement.
It did not disturb them in the least to find Brutus and Cassius, for
instance, wearing much the same kind of clothes as Bacon and Raleigh.
And in this way anachronisms of other kinds readily obtained pardon,
if indeed they ever moved attention at all. Certainly the hero of an
early Roman story should not have spoken of gunpowder, much less have
produced a pistol from his belt; but his conduct in this wise became
almost reasonable, seeing that he did not wear a toga, but doublet and
hose--the dress indeed of a gallant of Elizabeth's time.
It is only in quite recent times that the correctness of stage
costumes has undergone systematic consideration, and been treated as a
matter of real urgency, although occasional experiments in the
direction of reform are to be found recorded in early accounts of the
drama. Mr. Pepys describes his visit to the theatre in 1664, to see
"Heraclius, or the Emperor of the East," Carlell's translation of
Corneille, and notes, "the garments like Romans very well ... at the
beginning, at the drawing up of the curtain, there was the finest
scene of the emperor and his people about him, standing in their fixed
and different postures, in their Roman habits, above all that I ever
saw at any of the theatres." But attempts to be accurate in this way
were only of an intermittent kind; any enduring amendment can hardly
be found until we approach a period that is within the recollection of
living playgoers. Mr. Donne, lately the Examiner of Plays, writes in
one of his essays on the drama: "We have seen 'The Rivals' performed
in a sort of chance-medley costume--a century intervening between the
respective attires of Sir Anthony and Captain Absolute;" and he adds,
"we have seen the same comedy dressed with scrupulous attention to the
date of the wigs and hoops; but we doubt whether in any essential
respect that excellent play was a gainer by the increased care and
expenditure of the manager." Sir Walter Scott had previously written:
"We have seen 'Jane Shore' acted with Richard in the old English
cloak, Lord Hastings in a full court dress, with his white rod like a
Lord Chamberlain of the last reign, and Jane Shore and Alicia in stays
and hoops. We have seen Miss Young act Zara, incased in whalebone, to
an Osman dressed properly enough as a Turk, while Nerestan, a
Christian knight, in the time of the Crusades, strutted in the white
uniform of the old French guards!"
Even as late as 1842 a writer in a critical journal, reviewing a
performance of "She Stoops to Conquer" at the Haymarket Theatre,
reminds the representatives of Young Marlow and Hastings that the
costumes they wear being "of the year 1842 accord but ill with those
of 1772, assumed by the other characters." "The effect of the scene is
marred by it," writes the critic. And ten years before Leigh Hunt had
admitted into the columns of his _Tatler_ many letters dwelling upon
the defects of stage costume in regard to incongruousness and general
lack of accuracy. One correspondent complains of a performance of "The
Merry Wives of Windsor" at Covent Garden, in which Bartley had played
Falstaff "in a dress belonging to the age of the first Charles;" Caius
had appeared as "a doctor of the reign of William and Mary, with a
flowing periwig, cocked hat, large cuffs, and ruffles;" while John
Rugby's costume was that "of a countryman servant of the present day."
Another remonstrant describes Kean as dressing Othello "more in the
garb of an Albanian Greek than a Moor; Richard goes through the battle
without armour, while Richmond is armed _cap-à-pie_; and Young plays
Macbeth in a green and gilded velvet jacket, and carries a shield
until he begins to fight, and then throws it away." A third
correspondent draws attention to "The School for Scandal" and Mr.
Farren's performance of Sir Peter Teazle in a costume appropriate to
the date of the comedy, the other players wearing dresses of the
newest vogue. "Even Sir Oliver," it is added, "appeared in a
fashionable modern drab greatcoat." In a note Leigh Hunt records his
opinion that Mr. Farren was right, and that it was "the business of
all the other performers to dress up to his costume, not for him to
_wrong_ himself into theirs," and adds, "there is one way of settling
the matter which puts an end to all questions except that of immediate
convenience and economy; and this is to do as the French do, who
rigidly adhere to the costume of the period in which the scene is
supposed to take place. Something of immediate sympathy is lost,
perhaps, by this system, for we can hardly admire a young beauty so
much in the dress of our grandmothers as in such as we see our own
charmers in; but this defect is compensated by a sense of truth and
propriety, by the very quaintness and novelty of the ancient aspect,
and even by the information it conveys to us."
The condition of the Parisian stage in regard to its improved and
splendid scenery, decorations, and accessories owed much to the
special intervention and patronage of Louis XIV. Sir Walter Scott
ascribes to Voltaire "the sole merit of introducing natural and
correct costumes. Before his time the actors, whether Romans or
Scythians, appeared in the full dress of the French court; and
Augustus himself was represented in a huge full-bottomed wig
surmounted by a crown of laurel." Marmontel, however, claims to have
had some share in this innovation, and also in the reform of the stage
method of declamation, which had previously been of a very pompous
kind. Following his counsels, Mdlle. Clairon, the famous tragic
actress, had ventured to play Roxana, in the Court Theatre at
Versailles, "dressed in the habit of a Sultana, without hoop, her arms
half naked, and in the truth of Oriental costume." With this attire
she adopted a simpler kind of elocution. Her success was most
complete. Marmontel was profuse in his congratulations. "But it will
ruin me," said the actress. "Natural declamation requires correctness
of costume. My wardrobe is from this moment useless to me; I lose
twelve hundred guineas' worth of dresses! However, the sacrifice is
made. Within a week you shall see me play Electra after nature, as I
have just played Roxana." Marmontel writes: "From that time all the
actors were obliged to abandon their fringed gloves, their voluminous
wigs, their feathered hats, and all the fantastic paraphernalia that
had so long shocked the sight of all men of taste. Lekain himself
followed the example of Mdlle. Clairon, and, from that moment, their
talents thus perfected, excited mutual emulation and were worthy
rivals of each other."
Upon the English stage reform in this matter was certainly a matter of
slow growth. A German gentleman, Christian Augustus Gottlieb Goede by
name, who published, in 1821, a long account of a visit he had
recently made to England, expresses in strong terms his opinions on
certain peculiarities of its theatre. "You will never behold," he
writes, "foreign actors dressed in such an absurd style as upon the
London stage. The English, of all other nations the most superstitious
worshippers of fashion, are, nevertheless, accustomed to manifest a
strange indulgence for the incivilities which this goddess encounters
from their performers. I have seen Mr. Cooke personating the character
of Sir Pertinax McSycophant in 'The Man of the World,' in a buff coat
of antique cut, and an embroidered waistcoat which might have figured
in the court of Charles II.; though this play is of modern date and
the actor must of course have been familiar with the current costume.
In 'The Way to Keep Him,' Mr. C. Kemble acted the part of Sir
Brilliant Fashion, a name which ought to have suggested to him a
proper style of dress, in a frock absolutely threadbare, an obsolete
doublet, long pantaloons, a prodigious watch-chain of steel, and a
huge _incroyable_ under his arm. This last article, indeed, was an
appendage of 1802, but all the rest presented a genuine portrait of an
indigent and coxcombical journeyman tailor. He must have known that
pantaloons and an _incroyable_ rumpled and folded together are
incongruous articles of apparel--that no gentleman, much less Sir
Brilliant Fashion, would make his appearance in a threadbare coat; and
that steel watch-chains, as the chronicles of the Birmingham
manufactories plainly evince, have been out of date these fourscore
years. Neither would he, I am perfectly convinced, parade in such a
costume off the boards of the theatre. Why then should he choose to
exhibit such a whimsical figure upon them? May I venture to offer my
own conjecture on the subject? The real cause probably is that an
absurd costume is perfectly fashionable upon the English stage!"
In reply to these and similar strictures there is nothing much to be
said, unless it be that actors and audience alike were content with
things as they were, and that now and then reforms had been attempted,
without however resulting in any particular success. Garrick had
rendered the theatre invaluable services both as actor and as
stage-manager, but he had been unable to effect any very beneficial
change in the matter of dress. Indeed, it seems probable that his
attempt to appear as Othello had failed chiefly because he had
followed Foote's example and attired the character after a Moorish
fashion, discarding the modern military uniforms in which Quin and
Barry had been wont to play the part. The actor's short stature, black
face, and Oriental dress had reminded the audience of the turbaned
negro pages in attendance upon ladies of quality at that period:
"Pompey with the teakettle," as Quin had said, having possibly a plate
of Hogarth's present in his mind; and the innovation, which was
certainly commendable enough, was unfavourably received, even to
incurring some contempt. Garrick's dress as Hotspur, "a laced frock
and a Ramilies wig," was objected to, not for the good reason that it
was inappropriate, but on the strange ground that it was "too
insignificant for the character." A critic writing in 1759, while
timidly advocating the amendment of stage dress, proceeds to doubt
whether the reform would be "well received by audiences who have been
so long habituated to such glaring impropriety and negligence in the
other direction." Clearly alteration was a matter of some difficulty,
and not to be lightly undertaken.
It is well known that Garrick, in the part of Macbeth, wore a court
suit of scarlet and gold lace, with, in the latter scenes of the
tragedy, "a wig," as Lee Lewes the actor says in his Memoirs, "as
large as any now worn by the gravest of our Barons of the
Exchequer"--a similar costume being adopted by other Macbeths of that
time--Smith and Barry for instance. When the veteran actor Macklin
first played Macbeth in 1774, however, he assumed a "Caledonian
habit," and although it is said the audience, when they saw "a clumsy
old man, who looked more like a Scotch piper than a general and a
prince of the blood, stumping down the stage at the head of an army,
were generally inclined to laugh," still the attempt at reform won
considerable approbation. At that time it was held to be
unquestionable that the correct costume of Macbeth should be that of
the Highlander of the snuff-shop; but in later days it was discovered
that even the tartan was an anachronism in such case, and that Macbeth
and his associates must be clad in stripes, or plain colours. Even the
bonnet with the eagle's feather, which Sir Walter Scott induced Kemble
to substitute for his "shuttlecock" headdress of ostrich plumes, was
held to be inadmissible: the Macbeth of the antiquaries wore a conical
iron helmet, and was otherwise arrayed in barbaric armour. But when
Garrick first played Macbeth there were good reasons why the reform to
be introduced by Macklin at a later date could not be attempted. Mr.
Jackson, the actor from Edinburgh, who wrote a history of the Scottish
stage, records that, being engaged at Drury Lane, he had resolved to
make his first appearance in the part of Young Norval, in the tragedy
of "Douglas." He writes: "I had provided for the purpose, before I
left Edinburgh, a Highland dress, accoutred _cap-à-pie_ with a
broadsword, shield, and dirk, found upon the field of Culloden. But
here, as usual, fresh impediment arose Lord Bute's administration,
from causes unnecessary here to enter upon, was become so unpleasing
to the multitude, that anything confessedly Scotch awakened the embers
of discussion, and fed the flame of party. Mr. Garrick therefore put a
direct negative at once upon my appearance in 'Douglas;' 'Oroonoko'
was substituted in its place; for even to have performed the play of
'Douglas' would have been hazardous, and to have exhibited the
Highland dress upon the stage, imprudence in the extreme. Could I have
supposed, at that period," asks Mr. Jackson--his book bears date
1793--"that I should live to see the tartan plaid universally worn in
the politest circles, and its colours the predominating fashion among
all ranks of the people in the metropolis?" What with the
predisposition of the audience in favour of the conventional court
suit, and afterwards their prejudice against the Scotch, on account of
the '45 and Lord Bute, Garrick could hardly have assumed tartan in
"Macbeth." A picture by Dawes represents him in the battle-scenes of
the play as wearing a sort of Spanish dress--slashed trunks, a
breastplate, and a high-crowned hat!
Macbeth, indeed, was never "dressed" agreeably to the taste of
antiquarian critics, until the ornate revivals of the tragedy by Mr.
Phelps, at Sadler's Wells, in 1847, and by Mr. Charles Kean, at the
Princess's Theatre, some five years later. The costumes were of the
eleventh century on each of these occasions, Mr. Phelps's version of
the play being so strictly textual, that the musical embellishments,
usually attributed to Locke, but in truth supplied by Leveridge, were
discarded for the first time for very many years. Lady Macduff was
restored to the list of _dramatis personæ_, from which she had so long
been banished, and the old stage direction in the last scene--"enter
Macduff with Macbeth's head upon a pole," was implicitly followed. But
these revivals were a consequence of earlier reproductions of
Shakespeare, with rigid regard to accuracy of costume, and general
completeness of decoration. John Kemble had taken certain important
steps in this direction, and his example had been bettered by his
brother Charles, under whose management of Covent Garden, "King John"
was produced, the costumes being supervised by Mr. Planché, and every
detail of the representation receiving most attentive study. Great
success attended this experiment, although, in the first instance,
there had prevailed a strong inclination to deride as "stewpans" the
flat-topped helmets worn by King John and his barons. After this,
accuracy of costume, especially in relation to the plays of
Shakespeare, became the favourite pursuit of managers. Mr. Macready
ventured upon various revivals, archaic and decorative, at Covent
Garden and Drury Lane; Mr. Phelps followed suit at Sadler's Wells, and
Mr. Charles Kean at the Princess's, until it seemed that correctness
of attire, and splendour of scenery and appointments, could no further
be carried; indeed, alarm arose lest the drama should perish
altogether under the weight of upholstery and wardrobe it was doomed
to bear. Already the art of acting, in its more heroic aspects, had
undergone decline; there was danger of the player sinking to the level
of a mere dummy or lay-figure for the exhibition of costly raiment.
Still, these luxurious illustrated editions of Shakespeare were
attractive and popular, although it is probable that the audience
esteemed them less for their archæological merits than on account of
their charms as spectacles. Indeed, few in the theatre could really be
supposed to prize the cut of a tunic, or the shape of a headdress, or
to possess such minute information as enabled them to appraise the
worth, in that respect, of the entertainment set before them. However,
pages from the history of costume were displayed, indisputable in
their correctness, and those who listed might certainly gather
instruction. Here was to be seen King John in his habit as he lived;
here appeared the second and third Richards, King Henry, Queen
Katherine, and Wolsey; now was presented London, with its inhabitants
in the Middle Ages; now, the Venice of Shylock; and, anon, the
Bithynia of the days of King Leontes. The spectators applauded the
finery and the skill of the embellishments; and their favourable
verdict upon these counts carried with it, presumably, approval of the
players, and, perhaps, a measure of homage to Shakespeare.
The passion for extreme decoration, in relation both to scenery and
dresses, has not known abatement of late years, though it has sought
other subjects than those supplied by Shakespeare--most unwittingly;
for never could the poet have even dreamed of such a thing as "a
correct and superb" revival. But the question, as to the benefit done
to histrionic art by these representations, remains much where it
was. To revert to the shortcomings of the Elizabethan stage would be,
of course, impossible; the imaginations of the audience would now
steadily refuse to be taxed to meet the absence of scenery, the
incongruity of costumes, and the other deficiencies of the early
theatre. Some degree of accuracy our modern playgoers would demand, if
they disdained or disregarded minute correctness. Certainly, there
would be dissatisfaction if a player, assuming the part of King Henry
VIII., for instance, neglected to present some resemblance to the
familiar portraits of the king by Holbein. Yet the same audience would
be wholly undisturbed by anachronisms touching the introduction of
silken stockings, or velvet robes, the pattern of plate armour, or the
fashion of weapons. After all, what is chiefly needed to preserve
theatrical illusion is a certain harmony of arrangement, which shall
be so undemonstratively complete as to escape consideration; no false
notes must be struck to divert attention from the designs of the
dramatist and from his interpreters, the players; and to these the
help derived from scenery and dresses should always be subordinated.
Yet, when has the theatre been thus ordered, or have audiences been so
disciplined? Beaumont, probably, had good reason for writing to
Fletcher, concerning a performance of his "Faithful Shepherdess"--
Nor want they those who as the boy doth dance
Between the acts, will censure the whole play;
Some like if the wax lights be new that day;
But multitudes there are whose judgment goes
Headlong according to the actors' clothes.
The playgoers of Garrick's time, and long afterwards, were habituated
to the defective system of theatrical costume--had grown up with it.
To them it was part of the stage as they had always known it, and they
saw no reason for fault-finding. And it is conceivable that many plays
were little affected by the circumstance that the actors wore court
suits. It was but a shifting of the period of the story represented, a
change of venue; and Romeo, in hair-powder, interested just as much as
though he had assumed an auburn wig. The characters were, doubtless,
very well played, and the actors appeared, at any rate, as "persons of
quality." In historical plays one would think the objection to
anachronism much more obvious; for there distinct events and
personages and settled dates were dealt with. But there was an
understanding that stage costume was purely a conventional matter--and
so came to be tolerated most heterogeneous dressing: the mixing
together of the clothes of almost all centuries and all countries, in
a haphazard way, just as they might be discovered heaped up in a
theatrical wardrobe. It was not a case of simple anachronism; it was
compound and conflicting. Still, little objection was offered.
And even a critic above quoted, writing in 1759, and proposing greater
accuracy in the costumes of historical plays, refrains from suggesting
that comedy should be as strictly treated. He even advances the
opinion that the system of dress in vogue at the date of the play's
production should be disregarded according to "the fluctuations of
fashion." "What should we think," he demanded, "of a Lord Foppington
now dressed with a large full-bottomed wig, laced cravat, buttons as
large as apples, or a Millament with a headdress four storeys high?"
And there is something to be said for this view. The writer of comedy
pictures manners, and these do not change immediately. His portraits
remain recognisable for a generation, probably. Lord Foppington had
descendants, and his likeness, with certain changes of dress, might
fairly pass for theirs for some time. But, of course, the day must
arrive when the comedy loses value as a reflection of manners; it is
interesting as a transcript of the past, but not of the present. It is
doubtless difficult to fix this date with preciseness; but when that
has been accomplished the opportunity of the antiquarian costumier has
arrived.
Macklin, who reformed the costume of Macbeth, also, it should be
recorded, was the first actor who "dressed Iago properly." It seems
that formerly the part was so attired, or "made up," that Iago's evil
nature was "known at first sight; but it is unnatural to suppose that
an artful villain like him would choose a dress which would stigmatise
him to everyone. I think," adds the critic, "that as Cassio and he
belong to one regiment they should both retain the same regimentals."
By way of final note on the subject is subjoined the opinion of the
author of "Vivian Grey," recorded in that work touching the dress that
should be worn by Othello. "In England we are accustomed to deck this
adventurous Moor in the costume of his native country--but is this
correct? The Grand Duke of Reisenberg thought not. Othello was an
adventurer; at an early age he entered, as many foreigners did, into
the service of Venice. In that service he rose to the highest
dignities--became general of her armies and of her fleets; and finally
the viceroy of her favourite kingdom. Is it natural to suppose that
such a man should have retained, during his successful career, the
manners and dress of his original country? Ought we not rather to
admit that, had he done so, his career would in fact not have been
successful? In all probability he imitated to affectation the manners
of the country which he had adopted. It is not probable that in such,
or in any age, the turbaned Moor would have been treated with great
deference by the common Christian soldier of Venice--or, indeed, that
the scandal of a heathen leading the armies of one of the most
powerful of European states, would have been tolerated for an instant
by indignant Christendom.... Such were the sentiments of the Grand
Duke of Reisenberg on this subject, a subject interesting to
Englishmen; and I confess I think they are worthy of attention. In
accordance with his opinion, the actor who performed Othello appeared
in the full dress of a Venetian magnifico of the Middle Ages: a fit
companion for Cornaro, or Grimani, or Barberigo, or Foscari."