Gerald Jagger - A Stratford Mosaic

Gerald Jaggard, the author of Stratford Mosaic,died in 2001, aged 97. But his book,published in 1960, lives on, and is still one of the best ever written
about the town and its people; it also fetches extremely high prices in
good second-hand bookshops, which is appropriate as Jaggard ran one of
the best Stratford ever had: the Shakespeare Press.

I remember the book shop well (situated toward the top of Sheep Street,
in what is today Vintner's restaurant) as a dark place which felt like
something out of a Dickens' novel, and there were plenty of those
around, including small leather bound first editions that reeked of the
past. Jaggard was a very quiet man who acknowledged your presence with a
nod, allowing you to meander around the two floors of his shop, all the
while keeping a discreet eye on you. Back in the late 1950s and early
'60s most of his stuff was out of my price range, although I recall
buying a copy of R.L.Stevenson's Travels with a Donkey in the Cevennes
there for less than £2. Most of my book buying money was spent at The
Chaucer Head Bookshop just around the corner in Chapel Street, where,
unlike Jaggard's place, books were piled high in every dusty corner, a
totally different experience.

Gerald Jaggard was born in Liverpool in 1904, with a family steeped in Shakespearean folklore, not least that of being related to William and Isaac Jaggard, the father and son printers of Shakespeare's First Folio of 1623, which isn't a bad link for a Stratford bookseller.

Gerald's father, Captain William Jaggard, was born in Berkshire, but, as
Gerald tells us, his father's love of books took him, as a teenager...

“...to Leamington Spa, where he was apprenticed to Simmons the bookseller.
From there he moved to Liverpool, where, from a partnership, he
developed his own business, and it was here that he married and settled
in Canning Street. In the shadow of the great unfinished cathedral he
combined with the daily hustle of his city bookshop the writing of
pamphlets and other literary work. When in Warwickshire, he had spent
many hours in the Memorial Theatre Library. Proud of his lineal descent
from the printer-editor of the First Folio...” he resolved to make his own
contribution to Shakespearean literature. His choice was soon made. When
a young man, hardly twenty, he had been employed by the Earl of Warwick
to catalogue and classify the great collection [over 2,000 volumes] of
Shakespeariana at Warwick Castle.

“I sometimes wonder if my father would have tackled his self-imposed
labour of Hercules if he had realized that it would occupy his spare
moments for over twenty years!

“The necessity for research brought my father on frequent visits to
Stratford, and much of his time was spent in the Memorial Theatre
Library. He returned from these sojourns full of the charm and
loveliness of the town, and undoubtedly the smoke and grime of
Liverpool, the bustle of city life, seemed more oppressive after the
glimpses of country quiet. As a youth he had dreamed of settling down
one day in Shakespeare's home town, and now, some twenty years later,
those dreams were hardening into definite plans. Liverpool, suitable
though it was for the book trade, and for the printing press from which
my father issued his index to 'Book Prices Current' and a small study of
'Printing - its Birth and Growth', held little or no encouragement for
the Shakespeare lover. Stratford, the very home of such study, was ready
to welcome him, as he was already a governor of its theatre, a member of
its Shakespeare Club, and a prolific and diligent correspondent of its
weekly newspaper, The Stratford-upon-Avon Herald, whose editor, Mr.
George Boyden was a personal friend.”

And by this time William Jaggard had also started work on his huge
Shakespeare Bibliography, when:

“...a post fell vacant in Liverpool which held, to my father, a strong
attraction. It was the office of Chief Librarian. It seemed to hold
almost everything that he desired, except, of course, that it ruled out
a transition to Stratford.

“Unfortunately for my father's hopes, public appointments, like race
horses, are unpredictable. In this case, I imagine, standing order of
the city council dictated advertisement of the post when the successful
applicant was already in mind

“This disappointment was the final impetus needed for my father to make
the great move. His Shakespeare Bibliography was, I think, already in
the printer's hands when, in 1910, he tore up the roots of city life
and, with his wife, family, books and furniture, travelled to Stratford, “
when it was still very much a sleepy market town that just happened to
have a rather large theatre attached to it.”

Jaggard describes it well in a Stratford Mosaic:

“Fine weather created a problem which now hardly exists, that of dust in
the streets. The stream of new-fangled cars stirred up the dust that lay
on unmacadamised roads and puffed it into pedestrians' faces. The town's
solution was to send round the water cart, but it only needed a few
hours sunshine for the trouble to start again. In wet weather, of
course, mud was thrown up, and residents complained bitterly of motors
going through the streets at the reckless pace of fifteen miles an hour.”


Nothing has really changed, except for the speed of the cars, and the
absence of dust, which very noisy vacuum cleaner trucks take care of at
4am!

He continues:

“Street traders occupied the middle of Bridge Street once a week as far
back as 1911. They brought a collection of ramshackle stalls, with fruit
and fish as the principle offerings. The fish vendors threw buckets of
water over their wares at frequent intervals to keep them fresh, and the
resulting state of the street can be imagined. All the same it was
twenty years before the market was transferred to Rother Street, the
obvious place as it was a market in Shakespeare's day.”

Now, in the weeks before Christmas, the town still allows a market in
the middle of Bridge Street every Thursday, with the fish stalls
replaced by hamburger stands. You can imagine the state of the street.

A Stratford Mosaic is a gem of book that looks long and lovingly at
The Shakespeare Club, which dates back to 1824:

“...when a group of enthusiasts in the Falcon Hotel decided to form this
organized society. One sometimes wonders why 208 years elapsed before
the poet was thought worthy of such an honour.

“The idea was keenly supported, and in a few years membership had
reached the 400 mark. Before the end of the [19th] century the club
attracted Royal patronage, and was able to call itself 'The Royal
Shakespearean Club.' “

The club still exists, meeting on the second Tuesday of the month (Sept
- April) at The Shakespeare Institute.

The Shakespeare Club were the instigators of the Shakespeare Birthday
Celebrations, as Jaggard reminds us, when:

“1904 brought another innovation in the appearance of Morris Dancers
invited from Bidford-on-Avon. Their performance must have been a great
success, for at this point the Club began to plan ambitiously for the
future. They began to see the celebrations as a spectacle that would
attract many people to the town and thus make the annual tribute a
Warwickshire rather than just a Stratford event. A special committee was
formed to organize the Birthday programme on a proper footing, the sum
of £5 being voted to them as sufficient financial backing!”

Jaggard's wonderful little book gives us glimpse into a past that is
both distant, yet still within living memory, with chapters on the
annual Mop Fair, with the account of 1860 describing the 'yokels':

“...attending the fair, dressed, not in the customary smocks, but in
their best broadcloth. To divert them, there were rifle ranges, street
pedlars (Shakespeare depicted one of these in Autolycus) and gingerbread
stalls.”

There are other chapters on Marie Correlli, who was, according to Jaggard:

“...the outstanding Stratford resident of the last fifty years.”

And a lovely chapter on the Memorial Theatres, with the old one:

“...an odd looking place! Hans Anderson would have admired it, for it was
an enchanting medley of different architectural styles, with towers,
spires, half-timbering, patterned brick work, striped chimneys and many
other fancy touches.”

And Jaggard's book is full of similar fancy touches.

Steve Newman Collection

This photograph, taken in the late 19th century, shows Southern Lane, with the Black Swan (Dirty Duck) pub on the right, and one of the Flower family houses within the trees just off centre. At the top of the picture, to the far right of Holy Trinity, can be seen the back of Hall's Croft next to empty land. Interestingly, at the top, beyond the terraced houses of Old Town, there is open land as far as the eye can see. You can also see, toward the bottom left, the figure of a man. Frank Benson walking his dog? Who knows?

Sir Donald Sinden Opens The Splendid New Bancroft Gardens Last Friday, 24th April, was a glorious day for actor Knight, Sir Donald Sinden, to open the new Bancroft Gardens, which look absolutely splendid. Which means, unlike a lot of people, that I like, really like them. No need to say anymore, other than it gets very tiring to hear the same old crew moaning (and I can moan just as well as anyone else, especially about the bikers parking their machines on the Bancroft) and criticising what to me is a huge improvement and something we should be proud of. So there!

Sir Donald reminded us of the first time he appeared at Stratford in 1946 and how the theatre was pretty much an island in a sea of ice.

Not so in 2009. It was a lovely start to the Birthday celebrations.

Steve Newman

Happy Birthday Bill

Is it really just 445 years? How time flies!

A History of the Shakespeare Memorial Theatre
By Steve Newman

Part 4: Sir Peter Hall, the RST & RSC

When Peter Hall took over at Stratford in 1960 he was no stranger to the town. The first British director of Beckett's Waiting For Godot had first visited Stratford as a 16 year old in 1946 (he'd cycled the 120 miles from his home) to see a production of Peter Brooks' Love's Labour's Lost. Twelve years later he was back again, but this time he was not in the audience but directing a very young Geraldine McEwen in Twelfth Night. In 1959 he was directing Laurence Olivier in Coriolanus, and Charles Laughton in King Lear; plus a member of Frank Benson's 1913 company, Dame Edith Evans. Although not directed by Hall that 1959 season also saw Paul Robeson's mighty Othello, with that formidable American actor, Sam Wanamaker, as Iago, and Mary Ure as Desdemona. Apart from being hugely talented the railway worker's son was mixing in the right company and couldn't put a foot wrong.

What Peter Hall inherited in Stratford was a theatre that, as a building, was in pretty bad shape (although Anthony Quayle and Glen Byam Shaw had done their best to modernise the place), and a theatre company that wasn't really a theatre company at all, but a collection of star players who were often miscast; plus a style of acting, and speaking, that was itself quickly becoming outdated in comparison to the world of the new and blossoming British cinema.

But fortunately Hall also inherited the faithful support of Sir Fordham ('Fordie') Flower (who now ran a brewery that was itself failing) who had realised early on that something had to be done to save the Memorial Theatre. It was his decision to hire Hall as its artistic director.

Consequently Hall had Fordham's full confidence and support, and one of the first things Hall did was get rid of the star system and start making a new theatre company (and stars) out of such actors as Albert Finney, Peter O'Toole, Ian Holm, Edward Woodward, Dorothy Tutin, Richard Johnson, Diana Rigg, David Warner, Judi Dench, Glenda Jackson and the aforementioned Geraldine McEwan. He also started a regime of intellectual stimulation by employing academic John Barton to explain to the actors the nature of Shakespeare's texts, and how they should be spoken. He also employed the most determined of directors, Peter Brook, to ensure that some exciting new productions would soon put Stratford back on the cultural map.

Hall also demanded that the name of the theatre be changed to the Royal Shakespeare Theatre (RST), and that his new company be called the Royal Shakespeare Company (RSC). To achieve this, and see his artistic ambitions fulfilled, Hall knew he'd need royal patronage and state funding. Fordham supported Hall's ambitions from the start (and in any case the brewery could no longer afford the theatre's upkeep), and once the decision had been made to run the theatre's private financial reserves down he was the man to negotiate with the government. And he negotiated well, but with the result that promised funding for Laurence Olivier's newly planned National Theatre on London's South Bank took a severe cut.

The Arts Council grant for the first year of the RST and RSC was around £125,000 ( a huge sum forty-eight years ago), a sum that went up year by year, with the RSC and the National Theatre fighting over funds every year since.

Sir Peter Hall left the RSC in 1967 ( a year after Sir Fordham Flower's death) with its artistic legacy enhanced one million fold - and its audience numbers - but with its financial state on pretty marshy ground.

To Be Continued...

Part 3: Fire and Another War

The new artistic director, William Bridges-Adams, tried to put new life into a theatre that was, like the nation, deeply depressed and in mourning; and to an extent he did, but it would take the fire of 1926, and the spirit and sense of community that came out of that experience, before Bridges-Adams could really put his mark on things.

With the ashes of the old theatre still warm Bridges-Adams moved the company to the cinema (owned by the Flower family) in Greenhill Street, from where he staged five festivals that were probably some of the best in the whole history of the Memorial Theatre. His group of actors included Gerald du Maurier, John Laurie, Randle Ayrton, Florence Saunders, and a very young Henry Worrall-Thompson, father of the TV chef, Anthony Worrall-Thompson.

By the time of the fire Charles Edward Flower was dead, with the brewery, and the Memorial Theatre, headed by his son, Sir Archibald Dennis Flower who, like his father, was a formidable character determined to build a new theatre. He immediately arranged a competition for architects to submit designs, and set-up a committee that included George Bernard Shaw, Thomas Hardy, Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin, and ex-Prime Minister Ramsay McDonald, who collectively asked the "...peoples of the British Isles, the Dominions, and the United States to contribute to the building and the endowment of a new theatre."

Straight away The Daily Telegraph, Birmingham Post, Sydney Morning Herald and the New York Times, plus many more US and Canadian newspapers opened campaigns to raise money. Within just a few weeks many thousands of pounds had been raised.

The winner of the design competition was a 29 year old architect called Elisabeth Scott - who came from a distinguished family of architects - whose art-deco design stood out against a pile of mock-Tudor and post-Gothic horrors. Her design attracted criticism from the start, especially from members of the London theatre and architectural cognoscenti, one of whom described her finished theatre as a "...dreadful peace of suburban architecture." Scott never designed another theatre, and by the late 1940s had given up architecture altogether. Her theatre - which my grandfather helped to build - was never free of criticism, with Peter Hall describing it rather unkindly as "The Jam Factory", even though it helped earn him a great deal of jam indeed, and a Knighthood.

Throughout the Great Depression hit '30s the work done at the Memorial Theatre was pretty dire, with the only real high spots those productions put on by that most iconoclastic of directors, Theodore Komisarjevsky, who nevertheless could not stop the financial rot that had set in, even with the ever present support of the Flower family.

Only with the coming of WWII, and the influx of thousands of US and Canadian service personal - Stratford was surrounded by many American bases - did the fortunes of the theatre improve both financially and artistically. Between 1942 and 1945 the box office receipts increased by over 200%, with the theatre full every night with mainly American service men and women. And those young people, who were about to put their lives at risk, were not the reserved middle-class British audiences the theatre had been used to, but loud, questioning, intelligent people who had little respect for tradition, but questioned loudly any aspect of a performance that was not to their liking, or applauded loudly those aspects that were.

Their refreshing attitude made the actors and directors sit up and take notice and as a result create better, more realistic and relevant productions and performances. The effect those young fighting men and woman had on the Memorial Theatre reverberated through the building for the rest of its life, and still reverberates in today's Courtyard theatre.

When Peter Hall first worked there in the late 1950s, and took over the theatre in 1960, he would have heard the echoes of those US and Canadian service personal.

To Be Continued

Part Two: War and a Knighthood for Benson

When Benson brought his company back to Stratford in April 1915, with a festival that lasted for only two weeks (with everyone pretending on the surface that nothing had really changed), he knew it was going to be virtually impossible - with the casualty lists now getting longer and longer - to "...recover the spirit of 1913..." and the extraordinary success of the accumulated Golden Years of 1891 - 1914.

But nonetheless his programme for 1915 (and remember it was only two weeks long) was still an incredible achievement that wisely followed the well trodden path of Julius Caeser, Romeo and Juliet, The Merry Wives of Windsor, The Merchant of Venice, Hamlet, The Taming of the Shrew, Henry V, Coriolanus, Twelfth Night, and Richard III; plus an evening of old nostalgic songs and ballads. That season the cast of 39 included Gerald du Maurier, Lilian Braithwaite, Frank Benson himself, Henry Ainley, Basil Gill, Arthur Bourchier, Harcourt Williams, Randle Ayrton, Ambrose Manning, Evelyn Millard, and Murray Carrington.

Benson was back again in June 1915, this time to conduct a four week festival, which included a visit by the French actress Rejane, who, in a special matinee in aid of wounded Russian soldiers, recited Emile Cammaerts poem, Le Carillon. She was supported by a lengthy list of stars, including the music hall star George Robey.

Then, in May 1916 (when Benson was starring in Julius Caesar during a Shakespeare Tercentenary Celebration Festival at Drury Lane) the actor manager was offered a Knighthood. The letter offering the Knighthood had followed Benson around the country, finally falling into his hands late one day at his London hotel. Upon reading the letter Benson realised the Knighthood was to have been presented that very day. Nothing it seemed could now be done. Nothing that is until it was realised the King was attending the theatre that very night. " But swift action was taken. As soon as the Royal party arrived, Arthur Collins, manager of Drury Lane, explained the situation to the King's aide-de-camp. Learning that the King had no sword, Collins sent out a messenger to buy one that would fit the occasion; the King consented to perform the ceremony, and when Coriolanus appeared during the Pageant of Shakespearean Characters which followed Julius Caesar and walked slowly down the huge black-and-gold staircase to the footlights, F.R.Benson had become Sir Frank."

Later that month Sir Frank and Lady Benson were greeted at Stratford railway station by several thousand people, all of whom then followed the couple's Landau (which was pulled by members of the company) to Chapel Street where, outside The Shakespeare Hotel, Benson made an impromptu speech to the assembled crowd. The Landau was then pulled down Chapel lane to the theatre, where "...the Mayor (Alderman Flower) and the Governors waited with a more formal...greeting."

At the end of the last performance of that short spring season over one hundred bouquets of flowers were passed across the footlights.

Sir Frank and Lady Benson didn't return to Stratford that summer, instead they chose to run a Red Cross canteen in France, and come to terms with the tragic news that their son had died in the trenches. Theatre was no longer important.

When Sir Frank did return to the Memorial Theatre in 1919 he quickly realised his heart was no longer in the job and gracefully and quietly bowed out.

His place was taken by another Oxford man, William Bridges-Adams.

To Be Continued...

Part One: Frank Benson

From 1887, and through to 1919, the Shakespeare Memorial Theatre's annual summer festival at Stratford was under the direction of Frank Benson (he'd taken over from the original festival director Edward Compton, and more about him later), a man who created a whole new ethos of direction and acting, whilst at the same time taking over the complete running of the theatre: from the box office and the bars, to every aspect of production and promotion.

Frank Benson, who could trace his descent from the Vikings, was born in Tunbridge Wells in 1858, and educated at Winchester and New College, Oxford. Academically Benson was an under-achiever, but a formidable actor and athlete who, by 1881had hired the Imperial Theatre in London to put on his own production of Romeo & Juliet, which lasted only four weeks, was pretty much a flop, but had been seen by most of the acting royalty of the day, not least Sir Henry Irving who hired Benson to play Paris in his own production of the love story. Benson never looked back, and by the summer of 1886 was having lunch with Charles Flower, who appointed him the festival director for 1887.

As Day and Trewin describe, Stratford "...attracted Benson as no other town had done. He liked the little theatre, already with an atmosphere of its own, though only seven years old. He liked at night to walk along the river bank, and through the streets where the cross-timbered houses leaned comfortably against each other. He liked to bathe in the Avon, and row beneath Clopton Bridge. As he said years afterwards, he felt that there and nowhere else could be the chief Shakespeare shrine."

And Stratford liked Frank Benson as much as he liked the town, and "...there was very real satisfaction when people knew that he would come to conduct the festival of 1887. Again the festival lasted only a week. It was still almost purely a local affair, depending for support upon Stratford itself, and upon people of the neighbourhood.

" The chief event of 1887, in the theatre now redecorated in gold and pale green, was what the First Quarto called:-

' a most pleasaunt and excellent conceited Comedie, of Sir John Falstaffe and the Merrie Wives of Windsor...' "

The festival, under Benson, quickly extended, with Benson creating the first genuine company in Stratford, with an ambition to perform the whole of the Shakespearean canon, plus (to earn some much needed revenue) some pretty awful pot-boliers such as Isaac Bickerstaff's 'The Hypocrite', and Joseph Lunna's 'Fish out of Water', that would hopefully draw a new audience. And it worked, helping to create the so called 'Golden Years' of 1891 to 1914...

To Be Continued...