Shakespeare
and War: a reflection on instances of dramatic production,
appropriation, and
celebration
Dr
Catherine Alexander (University
of Birmingham)
Abstract:
This
article draws on a range of
literary, theatre, and printed news sources in order to explore the
portrayal
of Shakespeare and some of his plays in relation to war. This
exploration is
timely, given the anniversary of the playwright’s birth and of
the start of the
First World War. Particular attention is given to the society of
Elizabethan
England, to nineteenth and twentieth century theatre and film
productions of
Henry V, and other events during the early years of the 1914-1918 war,
revealing the many diverse ways in which the man and his work has been
appropriated.
Keywords:
Shakespeare;
war; theatre; Henry V
Two
anniversaries are being marked
in 2014: the birth of Shakespeare in 1564 and the start of the First
World War
in 1914. With both anniversaries in mind, the purposeof this paperis to
explore
the range of ways in which Shakespeare – the man, his work, and
his reputation
– has been employed as a tool in conflicting responses to warfare
and, in so
doing, has become hotly contested cultural property in competing
ideologies. In
this article, I consider the reception, appropriation, and contextof
Shakespeare’s
work, and find a history in which nationhood, patriotism and propaganda
feature strongly.
The association of Shakespeare and war is not confined to the 1914-18
war,
although that is where it concludes; attention is also given to
domestic as well
as international conflicts. It begins with speculative biographical
claims from just
over one hundred and fifty years ago.
I
In
the mid-nineteenth century,
Robert Lemon, of the State Paper Office, noted the name of William
Shakespeare
in the 1605 muster roll of trained soldiers in the village of
Rowington, in the
Barlichway Hundred; a historic division of the county of Warwickshire
that
included Stratford-upon-Avon and Henley-in-Arden. Lemon informed J.
Payne
Collier, the controversial Shakespeare editor and forger, of his find
and
Collier included the information, inconclusively, in his 1858 edition
of Shakespeare (Shakespeare 1858). This
biographical detail resurfaced in 1865 in the work of the English
antiquarian
William J. Thomsas the conclusion of one of his Three
Notelets on Shakespeare titled ‘Was Shakespeare Ever a
Soldier? (1859).’ He wanted to prove that Shakespeare accompanied
or followed
the Earl of Leicester to the Low Countries to fight the Spanish when he
sailed
from Harwich on 4th of December and landed at Flushing on 10th
of December 1585, returning a year later on 3rd December
1586. He
prefaced the piece with glowing commendations from the late Lord
Lyndhurst and
wrote of:
Another
noble Lord (still happily among us), who has
received the Thanks of Parliament for his ability and judgment
displayed in
support of great military operations, [who] assured the writer that he
had long
felt convinced that Shakespeare must have served in the army, and that
this
belief had been strongly confirmed by witnessing the recent performance
of his
‘Henry the Fifth.’ With such opinions in his favour, it
will not be considered
extraordinary if the writer considers that the question, Was
Shakespeare ever a
Soldier? must be resolved in the affirmative. (Thoms 1859, p.114)
In
addition to this aristocratic support, Thoms
made use of a letter from Sir Philip Sidney to his father-in-law
Walsingham,
dated ‘at Utrecht this 24th of March, 1586’,
which included a
reference to “Will, my Lord of Lester’s jesting
player.” The bulk of his
‘evidence’, however, was drawn from the texts of the plays:
he worked through
Boswell’s edition of Malone’s Shakespeare
(Shakespeare 1821) extracting quotations that connect to military life
and
experience. Any reference to weaponry or rank, however slight, is
claimed as an
“image drawn from [Shakespeare’s] own military
experiences” (p.130) but
fortunately for an intelligent reader he stops quoting at Othello.
“Who can doubt” he asks, “that it was under the
inspiration of having shared in the dangers and excitement of a
campaign, that
Shakespeare put into the mouth of the noble Moor his chivalrous and
touching
farewell to military glory” (p.135).
Many,
of course, have doubted that
Shakespeare was a soldier. Although England was at war for over half
Shakespeare’s lifetime – and despite the testimonial of the
three times Lord
Chancellor, Lord Lyndhurst – the whole proposition was
subsequently refuted. It
was a case of mistaken identity and joined other snippets of
biographical
conjecture, particularly those that attempted to fill in
Shakespeare’s ‘lost
years’ (the naive assumption that absence of evidence is evidence
of absence –
in the Low Countries or elsewhere) with accounts of the young
playwright as sailor,
schoolmaster, scrivener, apprentice butcher, engaged in legal work
orrecusant.[1]
Thoms’
own military knowledge was
negligible: he owned that he was “called upon to shoulder a brown
bess” in
April 1848 but acknowledged his inexperience, recognising that
“if unhappily
compelled to use it, it might peradventure prove more dangerous to my
Conservative friends than to the noisy Chartists against whom its fire
would
have been really directed” (p.124). There is a clear assumption
that in a
domestic military conflict (and here he is writing of the Chartist
riots), he,
his readers, and Shakespeare himself would have been on the same side
against
the Chartists. He was perhaps unaware that in 1842 the leading Chartist
Thomas
Cooper of Leicester had compiled a Shakespearean
Chartist Hymnbook (Cooper 1897), a collection of political verses
sung to
hymn tunes during processions and open air meetings, including the
following
composition by John Bramwich, a stocking weaver, sung to the tune
‘New
Crucifixion’:
All
men are equal in His sight,
The
bond, the free, the black the white:
He
made them all, - them freedom gave;
God
made the man – Man made the slave.
There
is little here that could be
called Shakespearean and indeed the Shakespearean
of the hymnbook’s title owes more to the name of the room in
which the
Chartists met than to the playwright. However, Cooper was steeped in
Shakespeare: helearned
whole plays by heart and lectured on Shakespeare to his fellow
Chartists. When
charged with inciting a riot in the Potteries, Cooper staged a
performance of Hamlet to raise money for his defence.
In
civil strife, Shakespeare was being appropriated by working class
activists as
well as by the establishment, although the relationship between the
radicals
and the dramatist was a complex one. Gerald Massey, for example, a
leading
Chartist and Christian Socialist, published two works on the sonnets,
which,
with Cooper’s lecturing and acting, might be read as mainstream
educational
activities, rather than as acts of subversion. However, elsewhere in
the
movement, Shakespeare is quite clearly used as ammunition in a class
war. The
regular ‘Chartism from Shakespeare’ column in the
Yorkshire-based and bestsellingweekly
newspaper the Northern Star, found
precursors of the People’s Charter in a number of
Shakespeare’s plays. It
quoted from King John, Julius Caesar,
and Henry IV, citing passages as precedents for
parliamentary reform
and made particular use of some of the citizens’ speeches from
the opening
scene of Coriolanus:
Our
sufferance is a gain to them. Let us revenge
this with our pikes, ere we become rakes ... Suffer us to famish, and
their
storehouses crammed with grain ... repeal daily any wholesome act
established
against the rich, and provide more piercing statutes daily to chain up
and
restrain the poor (Taylor 2002, p.367)
One
of the ostensible oddities of
Thoms’ method wasthe eleven plays that he chose for illustration:
The Taming of the Shrew, The Comedy of
Errors, Love’s Labour’s Lost, Romeo and Juliet, The Merry Wives, As You Like
It, Much Ado about Nothing, Hamlet,
Troilus and Cressida, Measure
for Measure, and Othello. He admits
to being interrupted before examining the Historical Plays but
nevertheless, in
a paper about military matters, the exclusion of KingLear, Macbeth, Antony and Cleopatra and Coriolanus seems arbitrary and unwise.
The answer is prosaic. It has little to do with his critical method,
and lies in the
organisation of the twenty-one volumes of his source text. The editor,
Edmond
Malone, arranged the bulk of the plays in the order in which he
believed them
to have been composed, thus not distinguishing between comedies and
tragedies
but leaving the history plays as a discrete category. He placed in
reign order (as
in the Folio) after the rest of the canon and before the volume devoted
to the
poems and the plays that he believed to be co-authored, Pericles
and Titus Andronicus.
When Thoms stopped at Othello, he had
only reached the end of the ninth volume and thus never attended to
plays with
a more obvious military content or context. His ‘evidence’
(if not his argument)
would have been strengthened had he persevered through the whole canon:
a quick
online word search (on www.opensourceshakespeare.org for example)
reveals that
‘war’ is used just 28 times in comedies, 88 times in
tragedies and 112 times in
the histories; ‘soldier’ occurs 47 times in comedies, 134
times in tragedies
and 152 times in histories. Thoms made nothing of the supposed
chronological
order of composition; neither did he give any consideration to the
differences and the
demands of genre or Shakespeare’s craftsmanship, despite giving
greater, if
unintentional, attention to comedies. With his biographical focus,
Thoms perhaps felt
it was irrelevant or a statement of the obvious to say that
‘war’—while
occasionally in the background of comedies—is only foregrounded
in tragedies
and histories where it is an integral part of the plot. Had he
progressed
through the canon he might have noted the metaphorical use of warfare
in the
sonnets too (see particularly sonnets 15, 16 and 55) and had he been
writing
two hundred years later he might also have commented on the gendering
of the
dramatic genres.
While
positing Shakespeare as a
soldier fighting overseas, Thoms gave no attention to the problems of
the
returning soldier. A consideration of context suggests that the
dramatist was
well aware of the difficulties facing the demobbed fighting man and
appropriated contemporary social concerns as the context of his work. A
letter
from Edward Hext, Justice of the Peace in Somerset, to Lord Burleigh
dated 25th
September 1596, describes the “thieves
and robbers that are abroad in this
County” and the “lewd young men of England ... devoted to
this wicked course of
life”:
The
most dangerous are the wandering soldiers and
other stout rogues of England ... of these sort of wandering idle
people there
are three or four hundred in a shire ... [who] do meet either at fair
or
market, or in some Alehouse once a week. And in a great hay house in a
remote
place there did resort weekly ... where they did roast all kind of good
meat (Hext
1596)
Hextgoes
on to describe how the
soldiers evaded capture and punishment—either by the intimidation
of Justices
and court officers or “through intelligence of all things
intended against
them”—which they achieved by attending court disguised as
“honest husbandmen”
(Hext 1596). Hext is describing a pressing problem: vagrancy and
vagabondage
were widespread after the Spanish Armada and particularly during the
summer of
1589, following the expedition to Portugal. Thousands of demobilised
and
unemployed soldiers wandered the countryside looting and pillaging to
support
themselves. Legislation in 1593 eventually provided ex-soldiers with
travel
licences and pensions after five hundred had threatened to loot
Bartholomew
Fair but the problem remained. There was a massive population increase
in the
sixteenth century (some estimates suggest a rise of as much as 40%) and
employment was rarely secure. Fluctuations in the cloth industry,
enclosures,
inflation, continued outbreaks of disease, harvest failure, and the
famines of
the 1590s forced growing numbers to join the ranks of itinerant
vagabonds,
which led eventually to the Elizabethan Poor Laws of 1598 and 1601.
Poverty at
this period was worse than at any time since the 1340s and social
differentiation was greater than it had ever been before. Very speedily
the
rich were getting richer and the poor were getting poorer. The only
recourse for
the impoverished soldiers and others suffering the stresses of war and
poverty
was to roam.
Of
all Shakespeare’s comedies, As You Like It is
the one with the
greatest interest in people on the move and was written by the middle
of 1600. The
bulk of the characters in the play are, or become,mis- or dis-placed in
the
Forest of Arden, the inhospitable area in Warwickshire to the north of
Stratford-upon-Avon, reputedly the home of recusants, wild beasts and
outlaws.
They are disguised, whether ‘like Forresters’ as the Folio
describes the lords
in Duke Senior’s company or as Ganymede and Aliena, and subsist
‘like the old
Robin Hood of England’ (1.1.110). While warfare in the play is
never explicit
(the only references to soldiering are made by Jaques in his
‘seven ages of man
speech’ at 2.7.149 and again in his description of his melancholy
at 4.1.12),
it is hard to believe that the first audiences watching the play were
not
unaware of Hext’s ‘lewd young men of England’,
‘the wandering soldiers’, and the
‘stout rogues’ roasting ‘all kinds of good
meat.’
Shakespeare
makes more explicit use
of war and its effects in the tragedies and the histories, where
contemporary
context is also significant. Coriolanus,
with a strikingly successful soldier as its eponymous hero, opens as
the
Chartists observed with “a company of mutinous Citizens with
staves, clubs, and
other weapons” (1.1 first stage direction) demanding “corn
at our own price”
(1.1.10) and complaining of “piercing statutes [that] chain up
and restrain the
poor” (1.1.180-1). The play was written and performed at some
point in 1608 or
9 and it is widely believed that this opening scene reflects the
rioting that
had occurred in 1607-8 (The Midland Uprising) after particularly bad
harvests
and price rises. William Combe, from whom Shakespeare had purchased his
Stratford house in 1605, was High Sheriff of Warwickshire and in that
capacity reported
his concerns to Lord Salisbury in June 1608:
I
am overbold to acquaint your lordship with such
grievances as the common people of the county ... are troubled with: videlicet, with dearth of corn, the
prices rising to some height, caused partly by some that are well
stored, by
refraining to bring the same to the market out of covetous conceit that
corn
will be dearer, and by engrossing of barley by malsters (Parker 1994,
p.34)
It
is not difficult to see these
current events reflected in a play ostensibly about ancient Rome. While
there is
no evidence of performances in Shakespeare’s time, some
subsequent productions
have reflected contemporary affairs; whether the right-wing,
anti-plebeian show
of John Philip Kemble (Drury Lane from February 1789) reacting against
the
French Revolution, or the left-wing, pro-plebeian productions that
developed in
response to the rise of fascism. R.B. Parker, the editor of the Oxford
edition
of the play, reports that the Nazis banned a translation for radio,
exiled the
author, and then adopted the play as a schoolbook for Hitler Youth to
demonstrate the weaknesses of democracy and to present Coriolanus as a
heroic
leader aspiring to lead his people to a healthier society “as
Adolf Hitler in
our days wishes to lead our beloved German father-land” (Parker
1994, p.124). The
play was banned by the American army in the early days of the post-war
occupation;
an interesting example of competing and conflicting appropriations.
II
Part
of Thoms’ testimonial from his
unnamed lord referred to a recent performance of Henry V
and it is this drama, with its broad social range of characters,
which is Shakespeare’s best known ‘war’ play. The
performance in question was,most
likely, Charles Kean’s 1859 production at the Princess’s
Theatre[2]that
roused patriotic fervour in the aftermath of the Crimean War, the
Persian War
and the Indian Mutiny. Its jingoistic effect was initiated by
Kean’s use of his
wife as the Chorus, ostensibly personating Clio, the Muse of History,
but
dressed as a cross between Queen Victoria and Britannia. Kean’s
biographer,
John Cole, pointed to its prescience:
The
records of that warlike age, the campaigns in
France, make the hearts of Englishmen swell; and are well recalled at a
time
when a restless neighbour, armed to the teeth, is evidently in search
of an
antagonist, anywhere, in any pretext; and when constant alarms warn us
to be on
our guard, and prepared in case of unprovoked attack (Cole 1859, p.342).
Yet
the idea that this Henry V demonstrated
Shakespeare’s
personal experience of warfare is farfetched: the representation of
military
life owed as much to Kean’s extravagant design as the
dramatist’s skill. He was
determined to create a historical verisimilitude in sight and sound,
and
employed over two hundred extras as soldiers, crowd and choristers. The
playbill advertising the show promised fifty singers performing
‘The Song of
the Victory of Agincourt’, ‘Chanson Roland’ and a
‘Hymn of Thanksgiving’ at the
end of the fourth act, all of which Kean believed to be authentic
fifteenth
century music, but it was the realism of the representation of military
events
that caught the attention of reviewers. The Illustrated
London News of April 12th 1859 clearly approved of an
extra-textual (and therefore non-Shakespearian) moment:
As
usual, Mr Kean has resorted to the old
chroniclers for assistance in illustrating his great argument, and has
added
episodes to the drama of great historical value, and which, as
historical
pictures, are eminently interesting. First of these is the siege of
Harfleur,
which is literally realised on the stage. There is the fitting and
fixing the
engines and guns under the walls of the town, and against its gates and
towers
– the blowing forth of stones by the force of ignited powers
– the impetuosity
and fury of the terrible attack – the scarcely less terrible
repulse – the
smoke, the confusion, the death, and all the horrors and darkness of
the
strife, in the midst of which the dauntless King urges on his followers
to the
breach, until the ruin of the French bulwark is accomplished. (Illustrated London News, April 12th1859)
A
similar attempt at realism and an
overtly patriotic rendering of the play was evident eighty-five years
later in Laurence
Olivier’s Henry V film, prompted by
the Ministry of Information as a project to raise morale on the eve of
D-Day.[3]
The Ministry had wanted modern dress, presumably to stress the
play’s
relevance, but Olivier opted for traditional, period costume and
detailed,
lavish battle scenes requiring large casts of men and horses. It was,
in its
way, as extravagant as Kean’s stage version and so
expensive—at the time the most
expensive British film ever made—that it took almost twenty years
before it
made a profit. The patriotic tone was achieved in part through some
careful
editing, including cutting Henry’s execution of the French
prisoners, and
Olivier’s staging of key speeches. Mounted on a white horse, and
having removed
his helmet, Olivier delivered the ‘Once more unto the
breach’ speech to
cheering troops and, in doingsoimprinted the language—and the
spirit—of the
lines in the national consciousness.
In
today’s society, lines
beginning “Once more unto the breach” (3.1.1) are perhaps
now less well known
than “We few, we happy few, we band of brothers” (4.3.60)
following the success
of the 2001 Second World War TV mini-series[4].
At
the Last Night of the Proms in 2002, the actor Sam West delivered both
speeches
to accompany William Walton’s Henry V
Suite, the music composed for Olivier’s film, in a fusion of
patriotism. The
speeches are sufficiently well known for Colonel Tim Collins’ eve
of battle oratory
to 1,000 troops of the Royal Irish battle group at their Kuwaiti desert
camp in
March 2003 before the invasion of Iraq to be widely compared to
Henry’s St.
Crispin’s Day speech.
Both
speeches remain familiar enough
for parody, such as in ‘The New Coalition Academy’ (a
fictional school) column in
the satirical magazine Private Eye, in
which David Cameron, portrayed as the Headmaster, gives a rousing
beginning of
term speech, supposedly in St Petersburg:
Once
more unto the beach, dear friends, and once
more, er ... this small sceptre isle, this Game of Thrones, er ... this
happy
breed of men and women and members of the Transgender community ...
this little
world power with the sixth largest economy, er seventh, er eighth ...
this
precious Rolling Stone set in a silver CD [...]
and
gentlemen in England now abed shall think
themselves accursed that they were not here in St Crispinburg ... we
few, we
happy few, this G20, this Band of Brothers apart from Putin, this is
not the
end of my speech nor is it the beginning of the end, but it is the
beginning of
the end ... Cry God for Harry Styles, the England Cricket Team and
Prince
George!! (Private Eye, No 1349, 20
Sept – 3 Oct, 2013)
We
are informed that the
accompanying picture, Cameron on a white horse (Olivier- and Branagh-
like),
has been mocked up by the fictional art department: “It was a
pity that they
labelled it “Hooray Henry V”, but I’m sure this was
an honest mistake” (Private Eye, 2013)
From
these examples we can see that
Shakespeare’s words, whether played straight or for comic effect,
have become
the shared language of warfare, and there are many other instances,
including Churchill
who supposedly quoted the Bastard from King
John on the eve of the Second World War (‘Mad world! mad
kings! mad
composition!’ [2.1.561]). However, while many stage and film
productions of Henry V have stressed the patriotism of
the piece, such a focus and its almost inevitable glorification of war
have
offended other directors. In 1986 Michael Bogdanov, of the English
Shakespeare
Company, was determined to change the focus. In his departure-from-war
portrayal
of 2.3 Pistol, Bardolph and Nym opened their jackets to reveal Union
Jack
T-shirts, broke into the ‘Here we go’ football chant, and
unfurled banners
proclaiming the intention of the soldiers to ‘Fuck the
Frogs.’ To the strains
of ‘Jerusalem’, the Chorus entered with a football rattle
and a placard
replicating the notorious ‘Gotcha’ headline that The Sun had used about the sinking of the Belgrano in the
Falklands
War. Bogdanov’s vision was very different from Olivier’s:
Imperialism
encourages jingoism. So the Falklands. So Agincourt. ‘Fuck the
Frogs’. The
banner hung out by the send-off crowd at Southampton ... grew out of
the desire
to bridge nearly six hundred years of this same bigoted xenophobic
patriotism
... The Last Night of the Proms, the troops getting the blessing at
Portsmouth,
football fury, all combined in my mind to produce this image. (Bogdanov
and
Pennington 1990, p.24)
He
felt he made his point and went
on to quote a letter of complaint:“ ‘The
use of the word was offensive and the
term ‘Frogs’ hardly helps promote racial harmony and dispel
old prejudices. I
was ashamed to be English.’
Precisely. The case rests” (Bogdanov and Pennington
1990, p.48)
III
If
Shakespeare could be claimed asa
military manand a patriot, and if his works could be appropriated for
and
against war, how was he employed in the First World War? Some of the
history is
not unexpected. Senior Shakespearian actors engaged in high profile war
work: Henry
Beerbohm Tree lectured on theatre at home and in America, which
included
patriotic addresses. Harley Granville Barker worked for the Red Cross
in France
and then worked in military intelligence. Frank Benson, knighted in
Drury Lane
theatre at the end of the Tercentenary performance of Julius
Caesar in 1916, staged a patriotic performance of Henry
V, and then drove an ambulance in
France while his actress wife Constance directed a canteen for
soldiers. Ellen
Terry gave a number of benefit performances in aid of Invalid Kitchens,
the Red
Cross, the Star and Garter Building Fund, the Concerts at the Front
Fund and
the American Forces. Gladys Cooper, at the start of her career, spent
Christmas
1914 with a concert party in France.
At
home, wounded soldiers were
entertained with a performance of A
Midsummer Night’s Dream in Regent’s Park in July 1917,
sponsored by the War
Office, which was filmed and distributed to boost morale.[5]Other
performances, however, were severely curtailed. There was no
Shakespeare at the
Memorial Theatre (now the Royal Shakespeare Theatre) in
Stratford-upon-Avon
after Benson’s 1916 season and Shakespeare-related films, whose
manufacture and
distribution were severely affected by the war, slumped from thirteen
in 1916
to just two in 1918. Publications were similarly curtailed and the
output of
the major academic publishers was extremely limited: for example, the
Arden edition
of Shakespeare only added Henry VIII
to its playlist during this time.
On
a broader scale, beyond the
stage and page,the cultural status of Shakespeareanduse of his works
was
complex and contested, not least because of the 1916 celebrations of
the
Tercentenary of his death and his pre-war reputation in Germany. While
he was undoubtedly
the ‘National Poet’ at home, he had been co-opted in
Germany as one of their
‘big three’ joining Goethe and Schiller. For Calvo, the war
“exposed a
fault-line between Shakespeare the national poet and the universal
genius”
(Calvo 2012, p.55)
In
1913, Professor AloisBrandl of
Berlin University and President of the Deutsche Shakespeare
Gesellschaft (the
German Shakespeare Society) had been invited to give the annual British
Academy
Shakespeare lecture and spoke on ‘Shakespeare and Germany.’
He described the
strength of Shakespeare in German theatre, comparing it favourably to
the
situation in England:
The
theatre is the stronghold of the Shakespeare
cult in Germany. There are some 180 German companies, and they maintain
in
their repertoire about twenty-five plays of Shakespeare ... On an
average,
throughout the Fatherland, three or four plays of Shakespeare are
performed
every evening. In Berlin, the theatrical capital, it sometimes happens
that on
five or six successive evenings as many different plays of his are to
be seen.
(Brandl 1913, p.7)
He
identified two distinct
Shakespeares – the German and the English – with distinct
critical and literary
traditions. He clearly favoured the former, and this sense of
competition would
resurface more explicitlyover the next few years.
Nevertheless, he
concluded with the hope that during the Tercentenary celebrations
England and
Germany would “stand up like one man, and hail him with one
voice, as the
greatest creator in literature...Au
revoir till Shakespeare Day, in 1916!” (Brandl 1913,
pp.14-15)
The
following year, and three
months before the outbreak of war in 1914, the 350th
anniversary of
Shakespeare’s birth was celebrated in both countries. In England,
a Shakespeare
Association was founded (largely to plan the 1916 centenary), whilst in
Germany,
the Deutsche Shakespeare-Gesellschaft
marked the occasion and its own fiftieth anniversary by making King
George V
and Viscount Haldane honorary members.Brandl’s optimism and plans
for
co-operation did not survive the ensuing conflict and Shakespeare,
particularly
surrounding the celebrations of 1916, was co-opted on both sides for
the war
effort. At home, Sir Israel Gollancz compiled A Book of
Homage to Shakespeare devised because the war had
restricted the planned activities and he wanted a ‘worthy Record
of the
widespread reverence for Shakespeare as shared with the
English-speaking world
by our Allies and Neutral Sates’ (Gollancz 1916, p. viii). The
volume contained
tributes from 166 ‘homagers’, many from overseas, but also
the leading English literary
figures of the day: Hardy, Drinkwater, Galsworthy, Edmund Gosse, Henry
Newbolt,
Kipling; academics such as A.C. Bradley; bibliographers like W.W. Greg
and A.W.
Pollard; and actors. Abroad, the enemy was anticipating (or hoping for)
a
debacle and The Times of 2nd
March, 1914, reprinted a piece from the Cologne
Gazette:
All
Germany will contemplate this celebration with
amused expectation and the utmost satisfaction. The English could give
us no
greater pleasure. The music-hall and cinematograph spirit of the
England of
today will make such a mess of it that unquenchable laughter will run
through
the whole of Europe. (The Times, 2
March, 1914)
‘All
Germany’ was wrong and despite
Gollancz’s concerns that public events would be limited there
were four days of successful
Tercentenary celebrations. 30th April was ‘Shakespeare
Sunday’ with
appropriate church sermons; Monday was political with a Mansion House
meeting
attended by members of the government, the church and diplomats;
Tuesday’s
celebrations took place at Drury Lane in the presence of the King and
Queen
with a performance of Julius Caesar,
a pageant and Shakespeare music; Wednesday was Shakespeare Day for
schools. The
German attitude undoubtedly caused major irritation. Punch
published a cartoon showing Martin Luther addressing
Shakespeare, and saying, “I see my countrymen claim you as one of
them. You may
thank God that you’re not that. They have made my Wittenberg
– ay, and all Germany
– to stink in my nostrils” (Punch, 16th April,
1916). The prolific
playwright Henry Arthur Jones expressed the strength of feeling at the
growing
appropriation:
With
this constant evidence before us of German
temper and methods, it will be well for England to be prepared for the
characteristic official announcement which will doubtless be made in
Berlin on
23rd April on the final and complete annexation by Germany
of
William Shakespeare ... Meanwhile, we may ask by what insolence of
egotism,
what lust of plunder, or what madness of pride Germany dares add to the
hideous
roll of her thieveries and rapes this topping impudence and crime of
vaunting
to herself the allegiance of Shakespeare? (Jones 1916, pp.3-4)
Most
official responses were more
restrained. For the celebration of Shakespeare in schools Gollancz
provided
‘Notes on Shakespeare the Patriot’ (Gollancz 1916). While
stressing
Shakespeare’s place on the “roll of British fame”and
acknowledging the “universal
recognition of his exalted genius”, he wanted pupils to be
mindful of how, “at
the present time, [ ] it behoves us as patriots to strive to play our
part in
war as in peace, and how best to maintain our faith in the ultimate
triumph of
a noble humanity” (Gollancz 1916, p.11). Shakespeare was clearly
regarded as an
appropriate figure to inspire patriotism—Gollancz praised his
“gentle grace and
modesty” and his capacity to “reach all classes”
(1916, p.11)—although, as
Arthur Quiller-Couch pointed out, the patriotism in his works is
largely
implicit. “To be sure,” he wrote, “the patriotic
orator can always quote to us
the lines of dying Gaunt [This royal throne of kings ...] ... Yet I
think it is
observable that the speech is put into the mouth of a febrile and dying
man” (Quiller-Couch
1918, pp. 290-322) But he too was infuriated by German appropriation of
Shakespeare and quoted a special prologue that had been delivered
before a
performance of Twelfth Night in
Leipzig. Spoken by the Fool, it included the following lines:
Ye
unto him [Shakespeare] have been until today
His
second home; his first and native home
Was
England; but this England of the present
Is
so contrarious in her acts and feelings,
Yea,
so abhorr’d of his pure majesty
And
the proud spirit of his free-born being,
That
he doth find himself quite homeless there.
A
fugitive he seeks his second home,
This
Germany, that loves him most of all,
To
whom before all others he gives thanks,
And
says: Thou wonderful and noble land,
Remain
thou Shakespeare’s one and only home,
So
that he wander not, uncomprehended,
Without
a shelter in the barren world. (Quiller-Couch 1918, p.315)
Quiller-Couch
was appalled that
Shakespeare wasbeing claimed here by a nation “whose exploits it
benevolently
watches in the sack of Louvain, the bestialities of Aerschot, the
shelling of
Rheims cathedral” (1918, p.316). While Shakespeare was never a
soldier, he
was powerful ammunition used by some on each side in the war of words.
Of
course, England and Germany were
not the only protagonists in the war ofthe appropriation of
Shakespeare. The
1916 Prague Shakespearean Cycle, for example, was intended in part to
draw the
world’s attention to the existence and rights of the oppressed
Czech nation. Clara
Calvo has argued that France used Henry V
as a way of cementing its relationship with England but the evidence
– a 1916
speech by the Recteur de l’Universite de Nancy – seems
slight (Calvo 2012). Much
more certain is the use made of Shakespeare to encourage the USA to
enter the
war. The American Ambassador, the committed anglophile Walter Hines
Page, was
heavily involved in the planning of the English Tercentenary and it is
quite
clear that Shakespeare was promoted as a shared cultural heritage with
the expectation
that a cultural alliance should become a diplomatic and then a military
one.
Page’s invitation to the President of Harvard to represent the US
at the
celebrations makes his position clear:
The
most important duty that now lies on every
English-speaking man is to make sure of an active sympathy between the
peoples
of the United States and the British Empire; for the peace of the world
and the
maintenance and progress of civilization depend on this sympathy and
there is
no other basis of hope. (In Hendley 2012, pp.25-49)
The
situation was inevitably
complex. The Easter Rising, close to the Tercentenary celebrations,
created a
conflict of interest, and there was a strong German presence in the US
Tercentenary events. Nevertheless, as M.C. Hendley has demonstrated,
Shakespeare
was an important tool to mobilise American opinion on the side of the
allies.
As
a reminder of the enduring
interest in Shakespearian biography, I conclude by drawing attention to
another
‘Soldier Shakespeare.’ The 1949 work by Duff Cooper (1st
Viscount
Norwich), titled Sergeant Shakespeare,
was a further attempt to demonstrate that Shakespeare served in the
army and
was prompted by his experience in the First World War. He begins by
describing
his experience as a Second Lieutenant in the trenches during a
suspected gas
attack. He asks about casualties and “A sepulchral voice came
from the gas mask
and replied, ‘Only Sergeant Shakespeare, who was killed instantly
by the
explosion of the shell.’ There, on the fields of Flanders, the
name seemed to strike
some dim echo of the past” (Cooper 1949, p.5). He then tells of
reading
Shakespeare during moments of respite from the fighting and the relief
and
pleasure of escape into the forest of Arden, a wood near Athens, and
the park
of the King of Navarre. It is the latter (Love’s
Labour’s Lost) that leads him to investigate
Shakespeare’s military career.
From
a minor nineteenth-century
antiquarian to a serving soldier in the trenches, from the intensely
private to
the public and political, and from stage and screen to a satirical
magazine,
Shakespeare has been appropriated for affirmation, ammunition,
propaganda and
comfort. What sets these appropriations apart from others (by artists,
novelists
or advertisers), is the fervour, the strength of feeling and the stakes
involved in warfare.
References
Bogdanov,
M & Pennington, M (1990) The English
Shakespeare Company: The Story of The Wars of the Roses, 1986-1989,
London:
Nick Hern Books
Brandl,
A., (1913) Shakespeare and Germany.
British Academy Third Shakespeare Annual Lecture, London: The British
Academy.
Calvo,
C. (2012) ‘Fighting over Shakespeare: Commemorating the 1916
Tercentenary in
Wartime’ in Critical Survey,
24:3, p.55.
Cole,
J.W., (1859) The Life and Theatrical
Times of Charles Kean, FSA ,vol II,
London: Richard Bentley,
Cooper,
D. Sergeant Shakespeare, London:
Hart-Davis, 1949
Cooper,
T. (1897) The Life of Thomas Cooper,
London: Hodder and Stoughton
Davies,
A. (2000) ‘The Shakespeare films of Laurence Olivier’ in The Cambridge Companion to Shakespeare on Film, ed. R.
Jackson,
Cambridge: CUP
Gollancz,
I, (Ed.) (1916) A Book of Homage to
Shakespeare to commemorate the three hundredth anniversary of
Shakespeare’s
death, Oxford: OUP
Hendley,
M.C. (2012) ‘Cultural mobilization and British responses to
cultural transfer
in total war: the Shakespeare tercentenary of 1916, First
World War Studies, 3:1, 2012, pp.25-49.
Hext,
E. (1596) Letter to Lord Burleigh, dated 25th September
1596,
British Museum, MS, Lansdowne 81, no.s 62 and 64.
Illustrated
London News,
April 12th1859
Jones,
H.A. (1916) Shakespeare and Germany ...
Written during the Battle of Verdun, London: Chiswick Press
Massey,
G. (1866) Shakespeare’s Sonnets never
before interpreted, London: Longmans & Co.
Massey,
G. (1888) The Secret Drama of
Shakespeare’s Sonnets, London:
Richard
Clay & Sons
Parker,
R.B. (1994) Coriolanus, Oxford: OUP
Private
Eye,
No 1349, 20 Sept – 3 Oct, 2013
Punch,
16th April, 1916
Quiller-Couch,
A.
(1918) ‘Patriotism in English Literature’ in his Studies in Literature Cambridge: University Press,
pp.290-322.
Schoenbaum,
S. (1987) William Shakespeare: a compact
documentary life, Oxford: OUP
Schoenbaum,
S. (1991) Shakespeare’s Lives,
Oxford: Clarendon
Shakespeare,
W. (1996) The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, Herts: Wordsworth
Editions
Ltd.
Shakespeare,
W. (1858) The Works of Shakespeare, 6
vols., ed. J. P. Collier, London: Whittaker
Shakespeare,
W. (1821) The Plays and Poems of William
Shakespeare with the corrections and illustrations of various
commentators,
21 vols. ed Edmond Malone, London: F.C. Rivington and others
Taylor,
A. (2002) ‘Shakespeare and Radicalism: the uses and abuses of
Shakespeare in
nineteenth-century popular politics’ in The
Historical Journal vol 45, no 2 (June 2002), pp. 357-379
The
Times,
2 March, 1914
Thoms,
W.J. ‘Was Shakespeare ever a soldier? Three
Notelets on Shakespeare, London: John Russell Smith, pp.115-136.
Further
Reading
Calvo,
C. (2010)
‘Shakespeare as war memorial: remembrance and commemoration in
the Great War,’ Shakespeare Survey 63, pp.198-211
Engler,
B. (1992)
‘Shakespeare in the Trenches’, Shakespeare
Survey 44, 1992, pp.105-111 and reprinted in (2002) Shakespeare
and Race, ed. Catherine M.S. Alexander and Stanley
Wells Cambridge: CUP
Foakes,
R.A. (2003) Shakespeare
and Violence, Cambridge: CUP
Kahn,
C. (2001)
‘Remembering Shakespeare Imperially’ in Shakespeare
Quarterly 52:4, Winter 2001, pp. 456-478
Murphy,
A. (2005)
‘Shakespeare among the workers’ in Shakespeare
Survey 58, pp. 107-117
Murphy,
A. (2008) Shakespeare for the People: working class
readers, 1800-1900, Cambridge: CUP
O’Connor,
J. (2003) Shakespearean Afterlives: ten characters
with a life of their own Cambridge: Icon
[1] For reliable,
evidence-based
information about Shakespeare’s ‘lost years’ see S.
Schoenbaum’sWilliam Shakespeare: a compact
documentary
life (Oxford: OUP, 1987) and his Shakespeare’s
Lives (Clarendon: Oxford, 1991)
[2] The only other
candidate is a
shortened version of the play that Macready took to Bath and Bristol
six years
earlier.
[3] See Anthony Davies,
‘The
Shakespeare films of Laurence Olivier’ in The
Cambridge Companion to Shakespeare on Filmed Russell Jackson
(Cambridge:
CUP, 2000), pp163-182.
[4] Band of Brothers (2001) TV Mini-Series, co-directed and co-written, and produced by HBO and Dreamworks
[5] The Imperial War
Museum has a
short silent film of this performance. See British Universities Film
&
Video Council at http://bufvc.ac.uk/shakespeare/index