Sunday in the Playhouse with Will (and Friends)

SCENE 37 EXT. THE GARDEN - MORNING

Will works on his garden. Now digging, cutting turf, gardening is hard.

Anne emerges.

ANNE: Husband! It’s Sunday.

WILL: Sunday?

ANNE: This isn’t London. If you miss church here they fine you.

Will Shakespeare’s London was run strictly both by the laws of the City (most of which the playhouses evaded by mostly being outside the City limits), the laws of the land and the laws of the church. Put all these together at a time when religious observances, and specially church attendance, appeared essential to staying out of trouble. So, did the playhouses every risk the wrath of church and state to perform on a Sunday? That would clearly be inadvisable.

However: according to Henslowe’s records, Sundays were sometimes performance-free, with players also having occasional weekdays off; but some Sundays did apparently see performances at the Rose. However, with Henslowe’s Diary it is necessary to make allowances for apparently erratic and inaccurate record-keeping. There appear to be bulk insertions of information into the book, and days and associated plays or activities listed may not always be literally correct. For example, :

31 of aprell 1595 ----Rd at fastes [Faustus] …….xxijs

This date is clearly a mistake. As Knutson observed regarding the vagaries of Henslowe’s recorded performances: “I believe that there were some Sunday performances and that there would have been more if the players had had a choice.” Knutson here acknowledges the need and the drive of all commercial enterprises to make money, and the temptation to perform to a holiday crowd on Sundays must have been great. As Knutson goes on to consider the complications facing Sunday performance:

Although there are records of Privy Council orders such as the one in 1600 stating that the companies ‘shall refrayne to play on the Sabbath day upon paine of imprisonment’ (APC, XXX, 397), we cannot assume it was strictly enforced, for there continue to be complaints and violations.

It is possible Henslowe’s records are entirely reliable: why write down a Sunday with a performance or a missed weekday if these never happened? A missed playhouse performance day in the week could, for example, be due to adverse weather conditions, command Court performances, trouble with the censor, sickness, or unrest or political activity in the city. If a lost day could be made up on a Sunday, or an extra audience tempted in during a week of small houses, and playhouse regulations permitted, then the profit motive suggests staging a play that day.  As sharers did not receive a wage for working, and fellows and apprentices were committed to the company and obliged to be present for work, then the playhouses could have contrived to slip around working on the sabbath; the question of paying hired men makes this more complicated, but seems to have been evaded.

Henslowe’s records also indicate he did, on occasion, do business with writers and other business connections on Sundays. For example:

Itm pd vnto mr tyllnes man the 10 of marche 1591 …..vs

This transaction, or at least the noting of it, happened on a Sunday – a relatively minor (as in, easy to hide from the authorities) privately-conducted breach of the Sabbath. This may indicate a culture of Sabbath working at the playhouses and their associated professions, suggesting it could have been usual for players and playhouses to function a little aside from the regulations where this was achievable, which could conceivably have extended to performances. Some Court masques were conducted on Sundays, supporting this suggestion that play-making might, on occasion, be allowed Sunday performances.

If there were Sunday performances in the playhouses, could there also have been Sunday rehearsals? Unhelpfully, there is mention neither of regular nor special rehearsals in Henslowe’s diary: it was not a financial cost and thus not something noted by him – even during his time as the apparent banker for the Admiral’s Men. As with the example of Dawes’ contract, it appears the expense was between the actors and the company, not the playhouse. No preparation costs are noted by Henslowe beyond the cost of play-readings in the tavern, when a new play commissioned by the playhouse, was read to the sharers and senior players by the writer for their approval.

Studying a selection of Sundays

In 1592, Henslowe’s Diary appears to record six Sunday performances apparently given by Strange’s Men over a period of fifteen weeks in residence at the Rose on the following dates:

Feb 20^th Muly Molocco

April 30^th Muly Molocco

May 7^th Harry VI

May 14^th (Whitsun) Harry VI

May 21^st Comedie of Hieronimo

June 18^th Spanish Tragedy

This leaves nine Sundays over those fifteen weeks for, potentially, running through up-coming plays (new plays and stock plays returning to the repertoire). Twenty-one different plays were performed during this period, some more often than others, all at least initially requiring time and attention to staging. Popular play Muly Molocco was performed six times between its first two Sunday performances, and three times afterwards. This apparently popular play could have been brought in on a Sunday to boost a flagging box office.  It was preceded by Friar Bacon; probably another stock play, Bacon appears only two more times over this fifteen week period. Muly is followed by Orlando Furioso on Monday 21^st February; however, Orlando does not then appear again.

There is a day off on Tuesday 22^nd. If the company were free that day, and not performing elsewhere, the next four plays could possibly have been run (maybe not each one in its entirety) on that day: Comedie of Hieronimo, Mandeville, Harry of Cornwall, and Jew of Malta. Then they would have been performed recently enough to go reasonably smoothly back into performance, and the chances of any changes of cast over those intervening four days would be minimal. Of these four, Hieronimo reappears seven times, Mandeville just three times, Cornwall also three times, and Malta a triumphant eight times. Sunday 27^th of February is another apparently dark day, and the company could have repeated this exercise with the next batch of plays, running up to the next day off on Sunday 5^th March. Of these plays, the return of Muly would have been little challenge, but Pope Joan makes a unique appearance, as do Machiavel and Bendo and Richardo. Harry VI, clearly a crowd-pleaser, also makes its first of a storming thirteen appearances. This appears to be a familiar crowd-pleaser for the company and would presumably have been easy to stage with little revision.

Sunday 5^th of March, the next dark Sunday, was a possible day off – unless there were a requirement to run the next batch of plays. These include the newly introduced Four Plays in One and Looking Glass for London, which both appear twice over this period, and Zenobia and Clorys and Orgasto, which both appear only once. The two other plays in repertory that week were both recently performed (Harry VI and Jew of Malta).

Sunday 12^th March was also dark, and may indeed have been a rest day, as the next week saw only repeat performances, except for the appearance of Spanish Tragedy, which then appears three times more in this period and was probably reasonably familiar to the company. Wednesday 15^th was another day off – or a day to rehearse more plays (new or stock) or learn more lines, or possibly perform at Court.

Sunday 19^th March, the next blank day, could have been used to run the next week’s two new plays (new to the repertoire if not to the company): Constantine and Jerusalem. Although neither play appears more than twice over this period, they would benefit from running through before performance, as they would be less familiar to the company. Also, a good first performance might bring a new hit into the repertoire at any time, and increase box office as well as variety of programming.

Over the Easter period, the plays on offer were repeats and could have run without much preparation, giving the new plays, Brandimer (April 6^th), and Titus and Vespasian (April 11^th), time to be prepared on the dark Sundays.  Brandimer appears only once more, while Titus and Vespasian appears to be a better investment of time and energy, appearing four more times. Except for Tamar Cham (staged twice) and one performance of the The Tanner of Denmark, the record for this period reaches June 10^th with established repertoire only. Presumably the playhouse was filling respectably with the reliable billings available. The only remaining exception is The Knack to Know a Knave, which appears first on June 10^th, directly before a dark Sunday, at the end of a run of six plays. Conveniently, this six-day run was preceded, apparently, by four straight dark days off (1^st-4^th June), when the new play could have been brought into shape. The investment of time in Knack appears to have been worthwhile, as it appears twice in the next two weeks.

Overall, certainly some Sundays could have been rehearsal days, relieving the pressure on mornings and evenings during the week and, barring recasting or other changes to established plays, they may been able to take some Sundays off. More familiar stock plays would have reduced the pressure on rehearsing, but they may have needed revising if they had been off stage for some time. In my own experience, plays laid aside for as little as a week require the cast to come together before performance and have a line run or a speed run, to get all those involved back into the flow of the text.

Most Sundays recorded in Henslowe’s Diary show the playhouse as dark (has no public performance that day), which would have given the company time to rest and attend required religious service. According to Knutson:

Year after year, in petitions to the Privy Council to suppress playing entirely [on holy days], the lord mayor and London clergy asked in particular that the playhouses be closed on Sundays and holidays. Entries in Henslowe’s Diary indicate that the companies seldom if ever played on certain of these days (Christmas, Allhallows Eve, Queen Elizabeth’s Accession Day [...], Lady Day, and the Sundays of Shrovetide, Easter, Whitsun, and Trinity) but nearly always played on others (the days of Simon and Jude’s […] Allhallows, St. Stephen’s, St. John’s, Holy Innocents’, New Year’s, Epiphany, Candlemas, Shrove Monday and Tuesday, Ash Wednesday, Easter Week, Whitsun Week, and the Nativity of John the Baptist[…]). The records on Sunday playing are more equivocal. Henslowe entered over fifty Sunday performances […]

Dark Sundays could be used covertly, for rehearsal, line-learning, and property, wardrobe, and script maintenance, if such activity could be conducted without fear of punishment by religious and secular authorities for sabbath-breaking. It appears that provided no wages were received for work on the Sabbath, no recusancy offence was seen to have been committed. As Cattell observed:

[…] the only obstacle to rehearsing on a Sunday, namely the illegality of ‘working’ on the Sabbath, is only applicable in the event of wages being received. With all hirelings paid from the profits of performance, and the sharers benefiting only after that, the definition of ‘work’ is suddenly more fluid, and the regulations demonstrably provide scope for evenings, as well as mornings, to be utilised for the purpose of preparing a new play for performance.

If this neat loophole definition of “working” were accepted at the time, then clearly companies could have rehearsed with relative impunity. However, it would be necessary to accommodate the very significant factor of legally required church attendance on Sundays. Players and offstage crew could conceivably attend church at least once on a Sunday, in accordance with the requirements of the 1558 Recusancy Acts, and still have time to meet and rehearse. The 1558 Recusancy Acts required each person to attend Anglican service at least once a week, at the church of the parish in which they resided. Confusion could arise when properties were owned by one person in more than one parish.

With regard to the enforcement of these Acts, it appears the 1558 Act of Uniformity was not particularly effective, as they were enforced by episcopal courts, which may have made playhouse activity on a Sunday comparatively easy to contrive. However, after 1581, when new acts were brought in, the case may have changed:

[…] the Recusancy Bill of 1581 as finally enacted embodied the Commons' bill in so far as the enforcement of that Act was placed principally in the hands of the justices of the peace, who had neither the experience nor the inclination to deal with recusancy. Only they and the justices of assize could impose the £20 fine. The episcopal courts and the ecclesiastical commissions could do no more than detect recusancy and impose the 12d fine under the Act of Uniformity.

These powers do appear to have made a greater impact on Sunday attendance, as (for example) John Shakespeare in Stratford-Upon-Avon was accused of recusancy after failing to attend church. It is possible his ownership of two properties clouded the issue temporarily, as he could be assumed to be in the other “home” church on Sunday. It also appears, despite distinct disparities between different area authorities, Londoners were not as exempt from the expectation to attend church as Ben Elton’s film script suggests. In 1581, members of the composer William Byrd’s Middlesex-based household were fined several times for non-attendance. Additionally, after 1583, the Act’s regulations were frequently enforced by “a variety of special commissions composed largely of lay magistrates who were known to be zealous Protestants -- often notorious Puritans”; the conduct of potentially unorthodox citizens (for example, musicians and players) could have received closer scrutiny.

However this may have eventuated, it appears possible, in theory, that rehearsal could have taken place on a Sunday. Either church could be attended beforehand to avoid trouble with the authorities, or occasional fines perhaps being covered by the company as a worthwhile investment in valuable rehearsal. As an added complication, however, there could have been those in the company whose religious convictions debarred them from working on a Sunday, making full company calls impossible. This factor remained an issue for the touring regional repertory companies in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, who traditionally travelled between towns on a Sunday. Any company member with deeply religious convictions would have had to reconcile the demands of their industry with their religion. The same issue arose if a company needed a rehearsal on a Sunday – and is still a sensitive point to be handled in the industry today.

Also complicating Sundays was travel time, as attendance was specifically required at the home parish church, not the most convenient. While working at the Rose, those players resident in Southwark would have had an easy walk to the playhouse; but others, like Burbage and (for a while) Shakespeare, resident in Shoreditch, would have had a time-consuming journey, reducing the available daylight - unless they were able to make the final service, compline, their required church attendance. While rehearsing north of the river, at The Curtain or The Theatre for example, this position of inconvenience would be reversed rather than eradicated, and affect those living on the Bankside.

Put all this together, and working on Sunday was in fact much simpler, more practical, and probably much more normal than we might imagine…