by Shailesh Rao
The Shakespeare Jubilee in 1769 is often seen as the "point at which Shakespeare stopped being regarded as an increasingly popular and admirable dramatist, and became a god"(Deelman, The Great Shakespeare Jubilee, 7). This event is also given credit for inspiring and influencing the hundreds of festivals that have followed in its wake. It is generally accepted that all such celebrations, "have their roots in the first Jubilee"(5). In addition to these changes in the cultural conceptions of Shakespeare and his devout bardolites, the Jubilee is also seen as the single event that has changed the economic and social function of Stratford-upon-Avon. Given these far reaching effects upon many different realms of culture and society, it may come as a shock that many of the contemporaries of David Garrick (the brains, bucks, and balls behind the Jubilee) regarded his landmark event as "a gigantically comic fiasco"(6). How could something viewed as a colossal failure turn out to be such a significant part of the bard's evolution? In attempting to answer this question, it is imperative to realize that however ridiculous the Jubilee seemed, and may indeed, have been, it was always an endeavor that was very impressive. It was this quality of being an incredibly complex and innovative undertaking, combined with its commonly accepted immediate failure, that reveals how crucial a role the Jubilee played in Shakespeare's cultural development.

David Garrick was in tune with the lucrative opportunities that were tucked away on the banks of Stratford many years before the Jubilee took place. When Thomas Sharpe, a Stratford merchant, had the insight to see that trinkets and tools carved from the wood of a mulberry tree, rumored to have been planted by Shakespeare, could attract both the attention and shillings of a large group of theatrical enthusiasts, an industry was born. Garrick was hip to this unexplored treasure chest occupied by two things that were dear to him-- Shakespeare and money.

It was five years after this encounter with pricey pieces of wood that another opportunity presented itself, in 1767. The town hall in Stratford was in dire need of refurbishing, only the Corporation (municipal institution) was a little short of the necessary funds. Those brainy guys up there in Stratford came up with the idea of soliciting members of the theater community who would hopefully jump at the chance to be connected to the birthplace of their hometown hero, Shakespeare. The corporation was trying "to persuade some gullible well-wisher into making a truly dramatic contribution"(58). David Garrick, a self-proclaimed (and proclaimed loudly at that) worshipper of the bard, seemed like an easy target. Through a series of connections, from poets to politicians, Garrick was brought on board the effort to rebuild Stratford's town hall.

Yet, the shrewd and sneaky leaders of the Stratford community were not ready for the manner in which Garrick would attempt to turn the tables. It turns out that in appreciation for Garrick's contribution, the town of Stratford was offering their "Freedom"(the equivalent of the key to the city or a similar honorary gesture)  to this good samaritan. Garrick, not lacking in his own sense for golden opportunities, decided to turn this ceremony honoring his generosity into a huge celebration dedicated to the reason he was interested in Stratford in the first place-- Shakespeare. Once again, the town of Stratford held the key to Garrick's interest, only this time it was not Shakespeare and money, but Shakespeare combined with the fame that such a celebration would bring him. Deelman notes that "his ruling passion was the love of fame"(85).

It had long been common practice to praise Shakespeare effusively, "but whereas previous actors had contributed to Shakespeare's fame in relative silence, Garrick trumpeted his worship of the bard to every corner of England and Europe"(37). Garrick saw this as the once in lifetime chance to pay tribute to his hero, while allowing him to enact numerous gestures of self-aggrandizement. The Corporation quickly realized that it had not picked an unwitting dupe, but a man "whose whole art consisted in the manipulation of the feelings of others"(73). Despite recognizing the opportunistic advances of Garrick, the town assented to his ideas, looking forward to the possible benefits of this newly forged partnership. The Council became "hypnotised by the vision of Stratford and themselves occupying so important a place in the public eye"(73). In Garrick, the Corporation saw a man who could import the exclusive worlds of fashion and literature associated with metropolitan life to the provincial town of Stratford.

Garrick had achieved this high measure of notoriety through his innovations in acting. He brought an unprecedented degree of realism and naturalism to the stage, resulting in never-before-seen modes of theatrical gesture and expression. Garrick had such a powerful theatrical presence that he often made Shakespeare more palatable and attractive simply because he was acting. Many people learned to love Shakespeare through Garrick. The Jubilee granted Garrick the possibility of further developing this relationship.

David Garrick was not admired just for his superb acting skills alone. He also demonstrated his talents in the field of what we would today refer to as public relations. Within seven years of his Shakespearean debut as Richard III in 1741, Garrick became the joint owner of the Drury Lane theater and helped it to pull in the largest profits in over fifteen years. It was his ability to manage the theater, and his management skills in general, for which Garrick received so much credit. "He was not only at the top of his profession," but he was seen as "the unchallenged dictator of all things theatrical"(82). Among his managerial talents was his "infallible sense of what the public wanted,"(31) the ability to effectively present and make use of information, his "deep understanding of the art of showmanship," skills in large scale organization, his experience dealing with temperamental people(97), and his ability to control publicity(137).

It was this power to control publicity that enabled him to initiate a powerful media campaign that would have rivaled the abilities of modern advertisers. "The newspapers seized upon the Jubilee and month after month, devoted more and more space to it"(116).

Over the nest few months the newspaper campaign was to mount to an incredible climax. Already poems and satirical comments were beginning to appear. Soon they would dominate the pages. Some ridiculed the affair, others praised it. Everyone was interested in the public spectacle of Garrick celebrating his partnership with Shakespeare.(74)

The campaign took on a life of its own, and if there was a word to characterize this aspect of the Jubilee, it would be controversy. Most scholars looked upon Garrick with scorn, thinking that the Jubilee was devoid of intellectual worth. Even Samuel Johnson, Garrick's friend, decided to boycott the ceremonies. Others, such as Samuel Foote and George Steevens, continually poked fun at Garrick's dream. Still more remained excited about the Jubilee, scrambling for tickets and reservations in Stratford. Garrick's plan worked like a charm. Despite the fact that there were varying opinions concerning the Jubilee, "the attention of all of England would, early in September, be focused on the small country town"(137).


As the date of the Jubilee neared, the interest in this small town grew exponentially. As Deelman puts it, "Stratford was news"(133). However, the ideal relationship that the Corporation envisioned did not come without its drawbacks. It seemed as if Garrick's assumption that the residents of Stratford existed simply to make the town presentable to their cosmopolitan and cultured guests was becoming a reality. This is seen most visibly in the plan to have the visitors outfitted with multi-colored ribbons in order to "distinguish the worshippers from the local inhabitants"(105). To Garrick, it seemed that the residents of the Stratford community were mere providers of services who should be barred from participation in the activities of the Jubilee. Garrick's festival reduced the people of Stratford to employees at an amusement park, only the amusement park was also their home.

And what would a Bardolatry fantasyland be without souvenirs. The arrival of the Jubilee also brought with it the mass production of cultural products that centered around Shakespeare. This marketing strategy can also be seen with the position taken by Garrick's literary agent, Thomas Beckett. Beckett proclaimed himself the official bookseller of the Jubilee as he was quick to take advantage of the excitement surrounding the gathering in Stratford. He, like many others marketing Shakespearean products, knew that could make a killing at the Jubilee where interests would be piqued. It should come as no surprise that the pictures, plays, and songbooks that Beckett was selling were all directly related to Garrick and the Jubilee, and had little or nothing to do with Shakespeare outside the setting of Stratford's three day circus. Selling Shakespeare was clearly not as important as making sure the Jubilee was a success. After the Jubilee, Shakespeare could no longer simply exist as an accomplished writer or thespian, he had become a complex marketing strategy.

The Jubilee was developing into an affair that was a "theatrical rather than a scholarly gathering"(180). It was an event that was not so much concerned with the works and accomplishments of Shakespeare, as celebrating the various and continually proliferating and perforating cultural trends that were springing forth from the bosom of the bard. With all the pageantry, parades, balls, and fireworks, one does not have to scrutinize Garrick's motivations to realize that he "had knowingly chosen to celebrate his God in terms calculated to appeal to the masses, fashionable or not, rather than to the intellectuals"(260). Targeting this audience seems to adhere to Garrick's real agenda. Hidden under the ostensible and apparently noble aim of honoring a significant literary figure, is the more appropriate description of the Jubilee--celebrating not Shakespeare, but the ways in which we can worship him.

Despite these criticisms of the Jubilee, it still retained the potential to be a three-day long party on the banks of the Avon. Alas, the skies above Stratford did not want to cooperate, and after a splendid opening day that had skeptics buttoning their lips and joining in the festivities, the rain came pouring down. Needless to say, there was no joy in Stratford. Garrick attempted to continue the celebration through the second day, but the rains proved to be too much. The fireworks display was ruined and the specially built rotunda that was a replica of Garrick's personal shrine to Shakespeare was submerged under half a foot of water. It rained so much during this two day period that the Corporation almost changed the name if the town to Stratford-under-Avon. The rain only exacerbated the mounting problems concerning the lack of accommodations, the insufficient dining services, the stifling amounts of traffic, and the general chaos that seemed to rise with the rains. Garrick was forced to cancel the activities on the third day, and many people left cursing his name as well as the Bard's.

The one bright spot was Garrick's performance of his Ode upon dedicating a building and, erecting a statue, to Shakespeare, at Stratford-upon-Avon. Despite the rain, and flooding, people crowded into the rotunda to hear Garrick's now famous dedication. It was received with enthusiasm and awe as the audience fell into an appreciative silence. It was the greatest performance of Garrick's life, and it was the shining moment of the Jubilee. In fact, it was captured in many poems, articles, and plays that attest to the power of Garrick, his Jubilee and their influence on the emergence of Bardolatry and our perspective on Shakespeare in general. The Ode was often repeated and performed for many years after the Jubilee. Such post Jubilee sentiment not only inspired the resurgence of Shakespeare as a cultural icon, and the growth of his cultural significance throughout Europe, but it also led to the planning of future events that aimed to emulate Garrick's Great Jubilee of 1769.

The Jubilee also had a profound effect upon the town of Stratford, "where the result of the worshipping cult was felt most strongly. The whole future history of the borough stems from Garrick's decision to hold his Jubilee there"(258). Initially, the Corporation found comfort in the fact that they did not have to share in the losses incurred by Garrick, a financial blow that tallied £2000. And after a week of some minor adjustments, the town returned to normal. Within two years, however, representatives of Stratford contacted Garrick inquiring whether he would be interested in taking part in another Jubilee. For obvious reasons, Garrick wanted absolutely nothing to do with such a thing, but he continued to be pestered by numerous requests to organize another Stratford Jubilee. Although Garrick and his Jubilee had left town, their spirit and the profit for potential lingered around Stratford. The Jubilee influenced members of the Stratford community as well as cultural elites, who could now entertained visions of a true Bardolatry Wonderland. Although he would not help it to bloom, Garrick with his Jubilee, the first of its kind, had definitely planted the seed. "Since 1769, every major Shakespeare anniversary has been celebrated [in Stratford]. Gradually the festival has become an annual one, until today it occupies most of the year. Without it, the town could not live"(5).

Perhaps the most striking and disturbing aspect of the Jubilee is the shift that reconciled and replanted Shakespeare within popular culture, his original medium. Unfortunately for Shakespeare, by the time of the Jubilee popular culture had begun a tremendous transformation into the complex modern commodified Culture Industry that we encounter in shopping malls and on Oprah. For the bard, there could be no return to the Globe Theater(without a Sam Wanamaker, a gift shop, and Margaret Thatcher).

Shakespeare had moved out of the quiet studies of scholars, had moved from the glare of stage lights, out into the world of the common reader. It was no longer his plays which commanded most interest. People who had never read or heard a line from them were now absorbed in reading about the man himself, and his birthplace. A new cult had been initiated. Bardolatry was becoming and industry.