Part 46
13. In 1566 there is an article of eighteenpence for _setting up Robin Hoode’s bowere_. This, I imagine, might be an arbour or booth, erected by the parish, at some festival. Though for what purpose it received that name I know not, unless it was designed for archers.
14. In 1573 charge is made of paper for _four bookes of Geneva psalms_. It is well known, that the vocal music in parochial churches received a great alteration under the reign of queen Elizabeth, being changed from _antiphonyes_ into metrical psalmody, which is here called the _Geneva_ psalms.
15. In the year 1578 tenpence were paid for a book of the articles. These articles were agreed to and subscribed for by both houses of convocation in 1562, and printed the year following. But in 1571, being again revised and ratified by act of parliament, they seem to have been placed in churches.
16. The last article in these extracts is fourpence for _an houre glass for the pulpit_. How early the custom was of using hour glasses in the pulpit, I cannot say; but this is the first instance of it I ever met with.
It is not to be thought that the same regulations were all made within the same time in all other places. That depended with the several bishops of their dioceses, and according to their zeal for the Reformation. Abingdon lies in the diocese of Salisbury, and, as bishop Jewel, who was first nominated to that see by queen Elizabeth, and continued in it till the year 1571, was so great a defender of the reformed religion, it is not to be doubted but every thing was there carried on with as much expedition as was judged consistent with prudence.
[114] Manchet, or cheat-bread.
[115] Fuller’s Hist. of Waltham Abbey, p. 13. T. Lewis’s Hist. of the English Translation of the Bible, p. 199.
[116] Pref ad Camdeni “Eliz.” p. xxix. l. i. g.
* * * * *
~Garrick Plays.~
No. XIII.
[From the “Battle of Alcazar, a Tragedy,” 1594.]
_Muly Mahamet, driven from his throne into a desart, robs the Lioness to feed his fainting Wife Calipolis._
_Muly._ Hold thee, Calipolis; feed, and faint no more. This flesh I forced from a Lioness; Meat of a Princess, for a Princess’ meat. Learn by her noble stomach to esteem Penury plenty in extremest dearth; Who, when she saw her foragement bereft, Pined not in melancholy or childish fear; But, as brave minds are strongest in extremes, So she, redoubling her former force, Ranged through the woods, and rent the breeding vaults Of proudest savages, to save herself. Feed then, and faint not, fair Calipolis; For, rather than fierce famine shall prevail To gnaw thy entrails with her thorny teeth. The conquering Lioness shall attend on thee, And lay huge heaps of slaughter’d carcases As bulwarks in her way to keep her back. I will provide thee of a princely Ospray, That, as she flieth over fish in pools, The fish shall turn their glistering bellies up, And thou shall take the liberal choice of all. Jove’s stately Bird with wide-commanding wing Shall hover still about thy princely head. And eat down fowls by shoals into thy lap. Feed then, and faint not, fair Calipolis.[117]
* * * * *
[From the “Seven Champions of Christendom,” by John Kirk, acted 1638.]
_Calib, the Witch, in the opening Scene, in a Storm._
_Calib._ Ha! louder a little; so, that burst was well. Again; ha, ha! house, house your heads, ye fear-struck mortal fools, when Calib’s consort plays A hunts-up to her. How rarely doth it languell In mine ears! these are mine organs; the toad, The bat, the raven, and the fell whistling bird, Are all my anthem-singing quiristers. Such sapless roots, and liveless wither’d woods, Are pleasanter to me than to behold The jocund month of May, in whose green head of youth The amorous Flora strews her various flowers, And smiles to see how brave she has deckt her girl. But pass we May, as game for fangled fools, That dare not set a foot in Art’s dark, sec- -ret, and bewitching path, as Calib has. Here is my mansion Within the rugged bowels of this cave, This crag, this cliff, this den; which to behold Would freeze to ice the hissing trammels of Medusa. Yet here enthroned I sit, more richer in my spells And potent charms, than is the stately Mountain Queen, Drest with the beauty of her sparkling gems, To vie a lustre ’gainst the heavenly lamps. But we are sunk in these antipodes; so choakt With darkness is great Calib’s cave, that it Can stifle day. It can?--it shall--for we do loath the light; And, as our deeds are black, we hug the night. But where’s this Boy, my GEORGE, my Love, my Life, Whom Calib lately dotes on more than life? I must not have him wander from my love Farther than summons of my eye, or beck, Can call him back again. But ’tis my fiend- -begotten and deform’d Issue[118], misleads him: For which I’ll rock him in a storm of hail. And dash him ’gainst the pavement on the rocky den; He must not lead my Joy astray from me. The parents of that Boy, begetting him, Begot and bore the issue of their deaths; Which done[119], the Child I stole, Thinking alone to triumph in his death, And bathe my body in his popular gore: But dove-like Nature favour’d so the Child, That Calib’s killing knife fell from her hand; And, ’stead of stabs, I kiss’d the red-lipt Boy.
* * * * *
[From “Two Tragedies in One,” by Robert Yarrington, who wrote in the reign of Elizabeth.]
_Truth, the Chorus, to the Spectators._
All you, the sad Spectators of this Act, Whose hearts do taste a feeling pensiveness Of this unheard-of savage massacre: Oh be far off to harbour such a thought, As this audacious murderer put in act! I see your sorrows flow up to the brim, And overflow your cheeks with brinish tears: But though this sight bring surfeit to the eye, Delight your ears with pleasing harmony, That ears may countercheck your eyes, and say, “Why shed you tears? this deed is but a _Play_.”[120]
* * * * *
_Murderer to his Sister, about to stow away the trunk of the body, having severed it from the limbs._
Hark, Rachel! I will cross the water strait, And fling this middle mention of a Man Into some ditch.
It is curious, that this old Play comprises the distinct action of two Atrocities; the one a vulgar murder, committed in our own Thames Street, with the names and incidents truly and historically set down; the other a Murder in high life, supposed to be acting at the same time in Italy, the scenes alternating between that country and England: the Story of the latter is _mutatis mutandis_ no other than that of our own “Babes in the Wood,” transferred to Italy, from delicacy no doubt to some of the family of the rich Wicked Uncle, who might yet be living. The treatment of the two differs as the romance-like narratives in “God’s Revenge against Murder,” in which the Actors of the Murders (with the trifling exception that they _were Murderers_) are represented as most accomplished and every way amiable young Gentlefolks of either sex--as much as _that_ differs from the honest unglossing pages of the homely Newgate Ordinary.
C. L.
[117] This address, for its barbaric splendor of conception, extravagant vein of promise, not to mention some idiomatic peculiarities, and the very structure of the verse, savours strongly of Marlowe; but the real author, I believe, is unknown.
[118] A sort of young Caliban, her son, who presently enters, complaining of a “bloody coxcomb” which the Young Saint George had given him.
[119] Calib had killed the parents of the Young Saint George.
[120] The whole theory of the reason of our delight in Tragic Representations, which has cost so many elaborate chapters of Criticism, is condensed in these four last lines: _Aristotle quintessentialised_.
* * * * *
~The Old Bear Garden~
AT BANKSIDE, SOUTHWARK.
BEAR BAITING--MASTERS OF THE BEARS AND DOGS--EDWARD ALLEYN--THE FALCON TAVERN, &C.
The Bull and the Bear baiting, on the Bankside, seem to have preceded, in point of time, the several other ancient theatres of the metropolis. The precise date of their erection is not ascertained, but a Bear-garden on the Bankside is mentioned by one Crowley, a poet, of the reign of Henry VIII., as being at that time in existence. He informs us, that the exhibitions were on a Sunday, that they drew full assemblies, and that the price of admission was then one halfpenny!
“What follie is this to keep with danger, A great mastive dog, and fowle ouglie bear; And to this end, to see them two fight, With terrible tearings, a ful ouglie sight. And methinkes those men are most fools of al, Whose store of money is but very smal; And yet every _Sunday_ they wil surely spend One penny or two, the bearward’s living to mend.
“At _Paris garden_ each _Sunday_, a man shal not fail To find two or three hundred for the bearwards vale, _One halfpenny_ apiece they use for to give, When some have no more in their purses, I believe; Wel, at the last day, their conscience wil declare, That the poor ought to have al that they may spare. If you therefore give to see a bear fight, Be sure God his curse upon you wil light!”
Whether these “rough games,” as a certain author terms them, were then exhibited in the same or similar amphitheatres, to those afterwards engraved in our old plans, or in the open air, the extract does not inform us. Nor does Stowe’s account afford any better idea. He merely tells us, that there were on the west bank “_two bear gardens_, the _old_ and the _new_; places, wherein were kept beares, bulls, and other beasts to be bayted; as also mastives in several kenels, nourished to bayt them. These beares and other beasts,” he adds, “are there kept in plots of ground, scaffolded about, for the beholders to stand safe.”
In Aggass’s plan, taken 1574, and the plan of Braun, made about the same time, these plots of ground are engraved, with the addition of two _circi_, for the accommodation of the spectators, bearing the names of the “_Bowll Baytyng_, and the _Beare Baytinge_.” In both plans, the buildings appear to be completely circular, and were evidently intended as humble imitations of the ancient Roman amphitheatre. They stood in two adjoining fields, separated only by a small slip of land; but some differences are observable in the spots on which they are built.
In Aggas’s plan, which is the earliest, the disjoining slip of land contains only one large pond, common to the two places of exhibition; but in Braun, this appears divided into three ponds, besides a similar conveniency near each theatre. The use of these pieces of water is very well explained in Brown’s Travels, (1685) who has given a plate of the “Elector of Saxony his beare garden at Dresden,” in which is a large pond, with several bears amusing themselves in it; his account of which is highly curious:
“In the hunting-house, in the old town,” says he, “are fifteen bears, very well provided for, and looked unto. They have _fountains_ and _ponds_, to wash themselves in, wherein they much delight: and near to the pond are high _ragged posts_ or _trees_, set up for the bears to climb up, and _scaffolds_ made at the top, to sun and dry themselves; where they will also sleep, and come and go as the keeper calls them.”
The ponds, and dog-kennels, for the bears on the Bankside, are clearly marked in the plans alluded to; and the construction of the amphitheatres themselves may be tolerably well conceived, notwithstanding the smallness of the scale on which they are drawn. They evidently consisted, within-side, of a lower tier of circular seats for the spectators, at the back of which, a sort of screen ran all round, in part open, so as to admit a view from without, evident in Braun’s delineation, by the figures who are looking through, on the outside. The buildings are unroofed, and in both plans shown during the time of performance, which in Aggas’s view is announced by the display of little flags or streamers on the top. The dogs are tied up in slips near each, ready for the sport, and the combatants actually engaged in Braun’s plan. Two little houses for retirement are at the head of each theatre.
The amusement of bear-baiting in England existed, however, long before the mention here made of it. In the Northumberland Household Book, compiled in the reign of Henry VII., enumerating “al maner of rewardis customable usede yearely to be yeven by my Lorde to strangers, as players, mynstraills, or any other strangers, whatsomever they be,” are the following:
“Furst, my Lorde usith and accustomyth to gyff yerely, the Kinge or the Queene’s barwarde. If they have one, when they custome to com unto hym, yearely--vj. s. viij. d.”
“Item, my Lorde usith and accustomyth to gyfe yerly, when his Lordshipe is at home, to his barward, when he comyth to my Lorde in Christmas, with his Lordshippe’s beests, for makynge of his Lordship pastyme, the said xij. days--xx. s.”
It made one of the favourite amusements of the romantic age of queen Elizabeth, and was introduced among the princely pleasures of Kenilworth in 1575, where the droll author of the account introduces the bear and dogs deciding their ancient grudge per duellum.[121]
“Well, Syr (says he), the bearz wear brought foorth intoo coourt, the dogs set too them, too argu the points eeven face to face, they had learnd coounsell allso a both parts: what may they be coounted parciall that are retained but a to syde, I ween. No wery feers both tou and toother eager in argument: if the dog in pleadyng woold pluk the bear by the throte, the bear with trauers woould claw him again by the skaip, confess and a list; but a voyd a coold not that waz bound too the bar: and hiz counsell toll’d him that it coold be too him no poliecy in pleading. Thearfore, thus with fending and proouing, with plucking and tugging, skratting and byting, by plain tooth and nayll, a to side and toother, such erspes of blood and leather was thear between them, az a month’s licking, I ween, wyl not recoover, and yet remain az far oout az euer they wear. It waz a sport very pleazaunt of theez beastys: to see the bear with hiz pink nyez leering after hiz enmiez approch, the nimblness and wayt of ye dog too take his auauntage, and the fors and experiens of the bear agayn to auoyd the assauts: if he wear bitten in one place, hoow he woold pynch in anoother too get free: that if he wear taken onez, then what shyft with byting, with clawyng, with roring, torsing and tumbling, he woold work to wynde hymself from them; and when he was lose, to shake hiz earz twyse or thryse wyth the blud and the slaver aboout hiz fiznamy, was a matter of a goodly releef.”
It is not to be wondered at, that an amusement, thus patronised by the great, and even by royalty itself, ferocious as it was, should be the delight of the vulgar, whose untutored taste it was peculiarly calculated to please. Accordingly, bear-baiting seems to have been amazingly frequented, at this time, especially on _Sundays_. On one of these days, in 1582, a dire accident befell the spectators. The scaffolding suddenly gave way, and multitudes of people were killed, or miserably maimed. This was looked upon as a judgment, and as such was noticed by divines, and other grave characters, in their sermons and writings. The lord mayor for that year (sir Thomas Blanke) wrote on the occasion to the lord treasurer, “that it gave great reason to acknowledge the hand of God, for breach of the Lord’s Day,” and moved him to redress the same.
Little notice, however, was taken of his application; the accident was forgot; and the barbarous amusement soon followed as much as ever, Stowe assuring us, in his work, printed many years afterwards, “that for baiting of bulls and bears, they were, till that time, much frequented, namely, in bear gardens on the Bankside.” The commonalty could not be expected to reform what had the sanction of the highest example, and the labours of the moralist were as unavailing as in the case of pugilism in the present day.
In the succeeding reign, the general introduction of the drama operated as a check to the practice, and the public taste took a turn. One of these theatres gave place to “the Globe;” the other remained long after. This second theatre, which retained its original name of the “Bear-baiting,” was rebuilt on a larger scale, about the beginning of James the First’s reign; and of an octagonal form instead of round, as before; in which respect it resembled the other theatres on the Bankside. The _first_ engraving in this article contains a view of it in this state, from the long print of London by Vischer, usually called the Antwerp view. In this representation, the slips, or dog-kennels, are again distinctly marked, as well as the ponds. The _second_ engraving, from Hollar’s view about 1648, shows it as it was a third time rebuilt on a larger scale, and again of the circular shape, when “plays” and prize-fighting were added to the amusements exhibited at it.
In the reign of James I. the “Bear-garden” was under the protection of royalty, and the mastership of it made a patent place. The celebrated actor Alleyn enjoyed this lucrative post, as keeper of the king’s wild beasts, or master of the royal bear-garden, situated on the Bankside, in Southwark. The profits of this place are said by his biographer to have been immense, sometimes amounting to 500_l._ a year; and well account for the great fortune he raised. A little before his death he sold his share and patent to his wife’s father, Mr. Hinchtoe, for 580_l._
We have a good account of the “Bear-baiting,” in the reign of Charles II., by one Mons. Jorevin, a foreigner, whose observations on this country were published in 1672,[122] and who has given us the following curious detail of a visit he paid to it:--
“We went to see the Bergiardin, by Sodoark,[123] which is a great amphitheatre, where combats are fought between all sorts of animals, and sometimes men, as we once saw. Commonly, when any fencing-masters are desirous of showing their courage and their great skill, they issue mutual challenges, and, before they engage, parade the town with drums and trumpets sounding, to inform the public there is a challenge between two brave masters of the science of defence, and that the battle will be fought on such a day. We went to see this combat, which was performed on a stage in the middle of this amphitheatre, where, on the flourishes of trumpets, and the beat of drums, the combatants entered, stripped to their shirts. On a signal from the drum, they drew their swords, and immediately began the fight, skirmishing a long time without any wounds. They were both very skilful and courageous. The tallest had the advantage over the least; for, according to the English fashion of fencing, they endeavoured rather to cut, than push in the French manner; so that by his height he had the advantage of being able to strike his antagonist on the head, against which, the little one was on his guard. He had, in his turn, an advantage over the great one, in being able to give him the Jarnac stroke, by cutting him on his right ham, which he left in a manner quite unguarded. So that, all things considered, they were equally matched. Nevertheless, the tall one struck his antagonist on the wrist, which he almost cut off; but this did not prevent him from continuing the fight, after he had been dressed, and taken a glass or two of wine to give him courage, when he took ample vengeance for his wound; for a little afterwards, making a feint at the ham, the tall man, stooping in order to parry it, laid his whole head open, when the little one gave him a stroke, which took off a slice of his head, and almost all his ear. For my part, I think there is an inhumanity, a barbarity, and cruelty, in permitting men to kill each other for diversion. The surgeons immediately dressed them, and bound up their wounds; which being done, they resumed the combat, and both being sensible of their respective disadvantages, they therefore were a long time without giving or receiving a wound, which was the cause that the little one, failing to parry so exactly, being tired with this long battle received a stroke on his wounded wrist, which dividing the sinews, he remained vanquished, and the tall conqueror received the applause of the spectators. For my part, I should have had more pleasure in seeing the battle of the bears and dogs, which was fought the following day on the same theatre.”
It does not appear at what period the Bear-baiting was destroyed, but it was, probably, not long after the above period. Strype, in his first edition of Stowe, published 1720, speaking of “Bear Alley,” on this spot, says, “Here is a glass-house, and about the middle a _new-built_ court, well-inhabited, called _Bear-garden Square_; so called, as built in the place where the Bear-garden formerly stood, until removed to the other side of the water; which is more convenient for the butchers, and such like, who are taken with such rustic sports as the baiting of bears and bulls.” The theatre was evidently destroyed to build this then _new_ court.[124]
According to an entry in the Parochial Books in 1586, one Morgan Pope agreed to pay the parish of St. Saviour, Southwark, for the Bear-garden, and the ground where the dogs were kept, 6_s._ 8_d._ arrears and 6_s._ 8_d._ for tithes.
The old Bear-garden at Bankside, and the Globe theatre wherein Shakspeare’s plays were originally performed, and he himself sometimes acted, was in the manor or liberty of Paris Garden. Near this, and in the same manor, were the Hope, the Swan, and the Rose theatres. It appears from “an ancient Survey on vellum made in the reign of queen Elizabeth,” that “Olde Paris Garden Lane” ran from Bankside, in the direction of the present Blackfriars-road, to stairs at the river’s-side near to, or perhaps on the very spot now occupied by, the Surry end of Blackfriars-bridge, and opposite to this lane in the road of the Bankside stood an old stone cross, which, therefore, were it remaining, would now stand in Blackfriars-road, near Holland-street, leading to the present Falcon glass-house, opposite to which site was the old Falcon tavern, celebrated for having been the daily resort of Shakspeare and his dramatic companions. Till of late years, the Falcon inn was a house of great business, and the place from whence coaches went to all parts of Kent, Surry, and Sussex. In 1805, before the old house was taken down, Mr. Wilkinson, of Cornhill, caused a drawing to be made, and published an engraving of it. “The Bull and Bear Baiting” were two or three hundred yards eastward of the Falcon, and beyond were the Globe and the other theatres just mentioned. “The site of the Old Bear-garden retaining its name, is now occupied by Mr. Bradley’s extensive iron-foundery, in which shot and shells are cast for the government.”[125]