Not long ago we had movies of Shakespeare's _Hamlet_ starring Mel Gibson in the first and Kenneth Branaugh in the second. Imagine that Hollywood blundered and released both at the same time for premieres in New York City to compete with each other. Now imagine that this made fans of Gibson and fans of Branaugh so furious that there was a clash between thousands of them, throwing stones and lighting fires, and that when the police and militia were called in, more than twenty people died. If your imagination can't pull all that off, you can stop trying. It all really happened, only it happened in 1849, in New York City outside the Astor Place Opera House, where respective fans of an American Shakespearean actor and an English Shakespearean actor caused what is known as the Astor Place Riot. If it still seems improbable, the precedents for the battle are comprehensively set up in _The Shakespeare Riots: Revenge, Drama, and Death in Nineteenth-Century America_ (Random House) by Nigel Cliff. This brilliant and entertaining book looks back at early nineteenth century acting traditions, the importance of Shakespeare to Americans, the culture wars between England and Britain, and the class conflicts within New York City, so that the riot itself occupies only the last quarter of the book. The riot may still seem an implausible historical episode, but Cliff has so thoroughly plumbed its many roots that in the book's final chapters, the riot seems like a sad inevitability.
For us, Shakespeare represents a lofty realm of academic reverence, but it is surprising that frontiersmen wanted not melodrama or farce, but the Bard. Shakespeare's plays were fully a quarter of all the plays put on in America, and on the frontier there was no more popular playwright. And so when America produced its first theatrical star, it was Shakespeare that was his platform. Edwin Forrest was "a poster child for Jacksonian America," and his working-class or frontier audiences responded to his down-home brawny presence. The leading actor in England at the time was William Charles Macready, who was a quieter performer than Forrest, and audiences in both America and England got to sample the performances of both men. The two of them were able, initially, to enjoy each other's work, and were friends, with a friendly rivalry. There were tensions at the time that brought America and England as close to war as they had been since their battles of 1812, so that part of being pro-America at the time was being anti-British. It might have been inevitable, but the friendly rivalry between him and Forrest became unfriendly, and then bitter.
The clash between countries manifested in New York City, where the new Astor Place Opera House had been built as a temple to propriety to be frequented by the upper classes, but which was located close enough to annoy their inferiors. "The theatres had always been the great democratic gathering places," Cliff writes, "the only arenas where the people's voice was louder than the elite's, where the poor could sit in judgment on the wealthy folk below." That the Astor wanted to police itself of the Irish and any other gangs by instituting a strict dress code was bad enough, but that it booked Macready to play his brand of British-style _Macbeth_ made the crowds angry. On the night of the riot, Macready was able to get through the play with only some catcalls, but outside, a mob of 15,000 people surrounded the building, bombarding it with paving stones, and eventually enduring the rifle fire from the militia. Macready was able to elude the mob; it was his last American performance. Cliff points out that this was "the first time that two classes of Americans had failed to resolve their conflicting rights without resorting to muskets and brickbats," and it was the worst of riots until those protesting the draft in 1863. The riot also lead to police being issued their first lethal weapons, heavy clubs to be used, of course, in self defense. It was one reason that Americans changed the way they enjoyed Shakespeare; the riot promoted segregation of classes and depopularized the Bard, with scholastic veneration taking place of popular enthusiasm. An astonishing story full of period detail, _The Shakespeare Riots_ is a grand history of a forgotten episode that was surprisingly influential in American theater, class structure, and nationalism.