Arthur Sullivan’s Best and Worst Day
The worst of days and the best of days – that’s probably how Arthur Sullivan would describe the premiere of Iolanthe on November 25, 1882.
The weeks leading up to the premiere were fraught with tension. To avoid American theatrical companies from pirating their work, Gilbert and Sullivan had arranged for two sets of casts—one in New York and one in London, so the premieres could be held at the same time and thus establish copyright in both places. Letters and transatlantic messages flew back and forth. The music was locked up every night to keep it safe from prying eyes, and during the rehearsals the main character was called Periola instead of Iolanthe!
It was a stressful time. Gilbert had his own way of dealing with stress—he never could stand to be in the playhouse during a premiere. Instead, it was his habit to leave the theater and pace up and down the Thames Embankment until the curtain fell.
At the last minute, Arthur Sullivan told the members of the chorus that the show’s main character was not called Periola—starting on premiere night, they would not be singing “Periola,” as they had been doing for weeks, but they would be singing “Iolanthe” instead.
Understandably upset, some chorus members asked, “What if we forget and say Periola instead of Iolanthe?”
Quickly, Sullivan replied, “Never mind so long as you sing the music. Use any name that happens to occur to you! Nobody in the audience will be the wiser, except Mr. Gilbert – and he won’t be there.”
So Sullivan was good at solving other people’s problems. Too bad he couldn’t solve his own. November 25, 1882 turned out to be a rough day for Sullivan. In his diary he wrote,
At home all day–L.W. [“Little Woman,” his pet name for Mrs. Ronalds] to tea. Received letter from E.A. Hall saying he was ruined & my money (about £7,000) lost, just before starting for the theater—Dined with Smythe at home. 1st Performance of “Iolanthe” at the Savoy Theater. House crammed, awfully nervous, more so than usual on going into the Orchestra—tremendous reception—1st Act went splendidly—the 2nd dragged & I was afraid it must be compressed—however it finished well & Gilbert & myself were called & heartily cheered. Very low afterwards—came home.
So there it is—a brilliant new theatrical success and financial ruin, all in one day.
According to Hesketh Pearson, that £7,000 sum was Sullivan’s entire life’s savings. According to Measuring Worth, £7,000 in 1882 would have a value of at least £635,800 in 2015. https://www.measuringworth.com/ukcompare/relativevalue.php
Christopher Hibbert writes in Gilbert & Sullivan and their Victorian World that Sullivan received a letter from his stockbroker, E. A. Hall, by special messenger right before he left his house on Victoria Street to go to the theater for the premiere.
You must look upon [all Sullivan’s life’s savings] as lost. God knows how it will all end, but I have seen it coming for ages. Thank God my friends stick to me and believe me honest. I am afraid Cooper [his partner] is not all that we have always thought him. I have been weak and he has exerted a fatal influence and power over me… Come and see me, my dear boy, though I feel you will hate me.”
Sullivan apparently didn’t even blame Edward Hall for the loss. He wrote his friend and stockbroker:
I am deeply grieved at the terrible news which I learned first from your letter yesterday. I of course knew from what you had told me that you were passing through critical times, but I did not anticipate such a speedy and lamentable end. As a friend, and one to whom I am so much attached, you have my deepest sympathy for I know what you must have been suffering.
This level of generosity and kindness was evidently typical of Sullivan. Hibbert tells another story about the time when Sullivan’s fur-lined overcoat was stolen:
It was known, for instance, that when his fur-lined overcoat was stolen by one of the wardrobe staff who pawned it for £2 in order to pay for doctor’s bills for his wife and seventh baby, Sullivan said to the man as he contritely confessed to the crime with the pawn ticket in his hand, “I’m sorry you’re in trouble. But as it happens I’m in need of that coat now the cold weather has set in. Here’s £5. Go and get the coat out of pawn and keep the change to buy something for your wife and baby. And for heaven’s sake don’t say you’re sorry again.”
Gilbert was known for his sharp wit, sarcasm and his championing of justice and fairness. But Arthur Sullivan was known for kindness, generosity and humanity. It’s amazing to me that both men could be admirable in their ways, while being so completely opposite.
Also, check out these gorgeous watercolors of Iolanthe by W. Russell Flint.
http://www.gilbertandsullivanarchive.org/iolanthe/flint/gallery_index.html