No One Ever Died from Chamber Music, but Opera Is Another Story
A Short History of the King’s Theatre in the 18th Century
by Agnes Selby
Towards the end of the eighteenth century, English theatre audiences did not possess the sophistication of their European counterparts . On any given night it was not unusual for warring factions to invade the stage and do battle there, damaging the scenery as well as their opponents in the process, while a favourite Italian castrato continued to belt out his aria.
The late eighteenth century forefathers of today’s English soccer hooligans found English theatres a perfect venue, not only for their battles but also for warmth during the winter months. The King’s Theatre, although more snobbish than Covent Garden or Drury Lane, did not escape such invasion. The audience, when unable to understand the story line on stage, sung in a foreign language, proceeded to provide its own entertainment. The battling factions on stage received loud encouragement from their supporters in the two-penny gallery.
On stage, the story line was not followed by the diva either, as the reigning custom allowed her to sing her favourite arias irrespective of the opera being performed. When members of the Royal family attended a performance, the audience would often turn their backs to the stage in order to watch visiting Royalty rather than the production. Admiring royalty and watching the nobility dressed to the hilt in elegant costumes was more interesting than the production on stage. The nobility in turn watched each other, this being part and parcel of their entertainment. Catcalls were frequent and on wintry nights, coughing and sneezing drowned out even the highest pitched efforts of the diva. The curtains on the boxes were often drawn during the performance while the ladies thus closeted entertained their paramours. Their maids were busy behind the curtains providing tasty morsels to the enamoured couples.
The invading hordes climbed all over the stage causing singers to duck for cover or deal with the invasion in another way: “The stage of the Opera is so crowded that Madam Rosa, in throwing her fine muscular arm into a graceful attitude, inadvertently leveled three men of the first quality of a stroke”. (The Times 1798)
Going to the Opera appears to have been a life-threatening experience as well. The Irish tenor, Michael Kelly in his autobiography, “Reminiscences” , describes an occasion when, during his tenure as manager at the King’s Theatre, the Royal family’s visit to the theatre created a stampede at the entry to the Opera House causing no fewer than sixteen people to be trampled to death. However, the show did go on and the Royal family heard nothing of the shocking incident until the following day.
On April 19, 1782, “The Times” reported the death of Mrs. Fitzherbert, widow of the late Rev. Mr. Fitzherbert of Northamptonshire. On Wednesday evening before her death, this lady went to Drury-Lane Theatre in company with some friends, to see the Beggar’s Opera. On Mr. Bannister’s making his appearance in the character of Polly, the whole audience was thrown into an uproar of laughter, unfortunately the actor’s whimsical appearance had a fatal effect on Mrs. Fitzherbert. It seems that Mrs. Fitzherbert “could not banish the figure from her memory, was thrown into hysterics, which continued without intermission until Friday morning, when she expired”.
The King’s Theatre was the home of the Italian Opera. The Italian singers guarded their domain against their English colleagues with tactics resembling those used by their Mafioso cousins of a later era. Sharp tongues were useful as weapons to destroy an English singer’s reputation and the hysterical outbursts of a reigning diva could keep the so-called undesirables from performing at the theatre.
William Taylor, the manager of the King’s Theatre, was known for not paying his bills. He rented a permanent apartment at the Debtors’ Prison from where he successfully ran the theatre and presided at popular and well attended parties. Emma Hamilton, Adm. Nelson’s mistress, was his next door neighbour, also with a permanent apartment at the Debtors’ Prison. When they gave their separate parties on the same night, their titled guests mingled with each other in perfect harmony. This did not help the singers at the King’s Theatre who were lucky to get half of their contractual salary. As for the composers who worked on a commission from the sale of tickets, they had very little income for their efforts. Pressed by his personnel for what was due to them, Taylor would retire in seeming despair to the Debtors’ Prison where he continued to live a life of luxury.
By 1787 the King’s Theatre was eighty years old. It was a large theatre seating 1300 and was the only theatre licensed to present fully sung operas. It was badly maintained and an Italian traveller observed that the “Englishmen of fashion were squeezed into holes lined with dirty old paper and the walls of it covered with crimson fluff”. The entry price was considerably higher than at the other two major theatres, Covent Garden and Drury Lane, but all London theatres suffered from bad management and lack of funds.
On the night of 17 June, 1789 the King’s Theatre burned to the ground. There were a number of theories as to how this happened and accusations of arson were directed at the then manager, Gallini. Luckily no one was hurt and the St. James Chronicle observed that “the fire was a blessing in disguise”. The King’s Theatre was eventually rebuilt to greater glory with many more seats and more financial losses.
Agnes Selby is a freelance writer and historian of music living in Sydney, Australia. She is the author of the definitive biography of Mozart’s wife, “Constanze, Mozart’s Beloved”.
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