other shore of the river at Bankside, enjoys the honour of having been
used for the first representations of many of Shakspeare's plays, and
where the bard himself performed in them. The whole district becomes
classic, from the remembrance. The following interesting description
of the theatres in London at that time, and which applies to the
Blackfriars' theatre as we well as the rest, is taken from a short
memoir of Shakspeare, by the Rev. Alexader Dyce, prefixed to the Aldine
edition of Shakspeare's poems: "Nearly all these buildings, it is
probable, were constructed of wood. Those which, for some undiscovered
reason, were termed private theatres, were entirely roofed in from
the weather, while the public theatres were open to the sky, except
over the stage and galleries. On the outside of each was exhibited
a sign indicative of its name; and on the roof, during the time of
performance, was hoisted a flag. The interior arrangements resemble
those of the present day. There were tiers of galleries or _scaffolds_;
beneath these the boxes or _rooms_, intended for persons of the higher
class, and which at the private theatres were secured with locks,
the keys being given to the individuals who engaged them; and there
was the centre area, (separated, it seems, from the stage by pales),
at the private theatres, termed the _pit_, and furnished with seats;
but at the public theatres, called the _yard_, and affording no such
accommodation. Cressets, or large open lanterns, served to illuminate
the body of the house; and two ample branches, of a form similar to
those now hung in churches, gave light to the stage. The band of
musicians, which was far from numerous, sat, it is supposed, in an
upper balcony, over what is now called the stage box: the instruments
chiefly used were trumpets, cornets, hautboys, lutes, recorders, viols,
and organs. The amusements of the audience previous to the commencement
of the play, were reading, playing at cards, smoking tobacco, drinking
ale, and eating nuts and apples. Even during the performance it was
customary for wits, critics, and young gallants, who were desirous of
attracting attention, to station themselves on the stage, either lying
on the rushes or seated on hired stools, while their pages furnished
them with pipes and tobacco. At the third sounding, or flourish of
trumpets, the exhibition began. The curtain, which concealed the
stage from the audience, was then drawn, opening in the middle, and
running upon iron rods. Other curtains, called _traverses_, were used
as a substitute for scenes. At the back of the stage was a balcony,
the platform of which was raised about eight or nine feet from the
ground; it served as a window, gallery, or upper chamber. From it
a portion of the dialogue was sometimes spoken, and in front of it
curtains were suspended to conceal, if necessary, those who occupied
it, from the audience. The internal roof of the stage, either painted
blue or adorned with drapery of that colour, was termed the _heavens_.
The stage was generally strewed with rushes, but on extraordinary
occasions was matted. There is reason to believe that, when tragedies
were performed, it was hung with black. Moveable painted scenery there
was assuredly none. A board, containing the name of the place of
action in large letters, was displayed in some conspicuous situation.
Occasionally, when some change of scene was necessary, the audience
was required to suppose that the performers, who had not quitted the
boards, had retired to a different spot. A bed thrust forth showed that
the stage was a bed-chamber; and a table, with pen and ink, indicated
that it was a counting-house. Rude contrivances were employed to
imitate towers, walls of towns, hell-mouths, tombs, trees, dragons, &c.
Trap-doors had been early in use; but to make a celestial personage
ascend to the roof of the stage was more than the machinists of the
theatre could always accomplish. The price of admission appears to have
varied according to the rank and estimation of the theatres. A shilling
was charged for a place in the best boxes; the entrance-money to the
pit and galleries was the same--sixpence, twopence, and a penny. The
performance commenced at three in the afternoon."
OLD CUSTOM RELATING TO CRIMINALS.
The custom of offering doomed criminals a last earthly draught of
refreshment is undoubtedly one of considerable antiquity. The right
of offering wine to criminals, on their passage to the scaffold, was
often a privilege granted to religious communities. In Paris, the
privilege was held by the convent of Filles-Dieu, the nuns of which
kept wine prepared for those who were condemned to suffer on the gibbet
of Montfaucon. The gloomy procession halted before the gate of the
monastery, the criminal descended from the cart, and the nuns, headed
by the Lady Abbess, received him on the steps with as much, perhaps
more, heartfelt ceremony than if he had been a king. The poor wretch
was led to a crucifix near the church door, the feet whereof he humbly
kissed. He then received, from the hands of the Superior, three pieces
of bread (to remind him of the Trinity), and _one_ glass of wine
(emblem of Unity). The procession then resumed its dread way to the
scaffold.
ALE TOO STRONG.
A memorial signed by nineteen inhabitants of Bayton, in Worcestershire,
was sent to the Sessions in the year 1612, setting forth "that John
Kempster and John Byrd do not sell their ale according to the law,
but doe sell a pynte for a penny, and doe make ytt soe extraordynarye
strong that itt draweth dyvers ydle p'sons into the said alehouses,
by reason whereof sondrye assaults, affrayes, blodshedds, and other
misdeameanors, are there daylie comytted by idle and dronken companie
which doe thither resort and there contineue in their dronckenes three
days and three nights together, and also divers men's sonnes and
servants do often resort and contineue drinking in the said houses day
and night, whereupon divers disorders and abuses are offered to the
inhabitants of Bayton aforesaid, as in pulling down styles, in carrying
away of yertes, in throwing men's waynes, plowes, and such like things,
into pooles, wells, and other bye places, and in putting their yokes
for their oxen into lakes and myery places, &c." A nice picture of
young England in the seventeenth century.
A CHAPTER-HOUSE IN THE TIME OF HENRY VII.
In abbey-churches of the olden time the Chapter-house was always on the
east side of the court. In establishments of secular canons it seems
to have been always multisided, with a central pillar to support its
groining, and a lofty, conical, lead-covered roof. In these instances
it is placed in the open space eastward of the cloister, and is usually
approached by a passage from the east side of the cloister court. In
the houses of all the other orders the chapter-house is rectangular,
even where the church is a cathedral. Usually, then, the chapter-house
is a rectangular building on the east side of the cloister, and
frequently its longest apsis is east and west--at Durham it has an
eastern apsis. It was a large and handsome room, with a good deal of
architectural ornament; often the western end of it is divided off as a
vestibule or ante-room; and generally it is so large as to be divided
into two or three aisles by rows of pillars. Internally, rows of stalls
or benches were arranged round the walls for the convent; there was a
higher seat at the east end for the abbot or prior, and a desk in the
middle from which certain things were read. Every day after the service
called Tierce, the convent walked in procession from the choir to the
chapter-house, and took their proper places. When the abbot had taken
his place, the monks descended one step and bowed; he returned their
salutation, and all took their seats. A sentence of the rule of the
order was read by one of the novices from the desk, and the abbot, or
in his absence, the prior, delivered an explanatory or hortatory sermon
upon it; then, from another portion of the book was read the names
of brethren, and benefactors, and persons who had been received into
fraternity, whose decease had happened on that day of the year; and the
convent prayed a _requiescat in pace_ for their souls, and the souls
of all the faithful departed this life. Then members of the convent
who had been guilty of slight breaches of discipline confessed them,
kneeling upon a low stool in the middle, and on a bow from the abbot,
intimating his remission of the breach, they resumed their seats. If
any had a complaint to make against any brother, it was here made and
adjudged. Convent business was also transacted. The woodcut gives an
example of the kind. Henry VII. had made grants to Westminster Abbey,
on condition that the convent performed certain religious services on
his behalf; and in order that the services should not fall into disuse,
he directed that yearly, at a certain period, the chief justice, or
the king's attorney, or the recorder of London, should attend in
chapter, and the abstract of the grant and agreement between the king
and the convent should be read. The grant which was thus to be read
still exists in the British Museum; it is written in a volume superbly
bound, with the royal seals attached in silver cases; it is from the
illuminated letter at the head of one of the deeds that our woodcut is
taken. It rudely represents the chapter-house, with the chief-justice
and a group of lawyers on one side, the abbot and convent on the other,
and a monk reading the grant from the desk in the midst.
[Illustration: [++] Chapter-House in the time of Henry VII.]
ANNE BOLEYN's GLOVES.
Anne Boleyn was marvellously dainty about her gloves. She had a nail
which turned up at the side, and it was the delight of Queen Catharine
to make her play at cards, without her gloves, in order that the
deformity might disgust King Hal. The good Queen Bess was extravagant,
fastidious, and capricious in the extreme, about her gloves. She used
to display them to advantage in playing the virginal, and gloves at
that time were expensive articles.
DELLA ROBBIA WARE.
Luca della Robbia, born in 1388, was an eminent sculptor in marble and
bronze, and worked both at Florence and at Rimini. Having abandoned his
original employment for that of modelling in terra cotta, he succeeded,
after many experiments, in making a white enamel, with which he coated
his works, and thus rendered them durable. Vasari writes of him, "che
faceva l'opere di terra quasi eterne." His chief productions are
Madonnas, Scripture subjects, figures, and architectural ornaments:
they are by far the finest works ever executed in pottery. He adorned
the Italian churches with tiles, as well as with altar-pieces, in terra
cotta enamelled; and he is the founder of a school which produced works
not much inferior to his own. The "Petit Chateau de Madrid," in the
Bois de Boulogne, near Paris, received the appellation of "Chateau de
Fayence," from having been ornamented with enamelled tiles, the work
of an Italian artist, named Girolamo della Robbia, a grand nephew of
Luca, whom Francis I. brought from Italy. This chateau is now wholly
destroyed. The tiles seem to have been introduced into portions of the
architectural composition, rather as accessory ornaments than as a
"lining" or revetement of the walls. Analogous ornaments, the work of
Luca de Maiano, 1521, were to be seen in the old gate, Whitehall, and
at Hampton Court.
[Illustration: [++] Della Robbia Ware.]
Luca della Robbia sometimes, though rarely, used a coloured instead
of white enamel in his compositions. The above cut represents the
altar-piece of San Miniato, near Florence, by him. The ground is blue,
the figures white, the fruits, &c., gold colour, and the garlands green.
VOLCANIC ERUPTION IN JAPAN.
The peninsula of Wountsendake, and the greater part of Kewsew,
bristle with volcanic mountains, some extinct, others still acting as
safety-valves to the incomprehensible excitements of mother Earth; but
of all the manifestations of her internal throes and torment, and their
consequent desolation inflicted on the habitations of her children,
that of 1792 was the most terrible for ages before.
"On the eighteenth day of the first month of that year," says the
_Annals of Japan_, "the summit of the mountain was seen to crumble
suddenly, and a thick smoke rose in the air. On the sixth of the
following month there was an eruption in a spur on the eastern slope
of the mountain. On the second of the third month an earthquake shook
the whole island. At Simabara, the nearest town to the mountain, all
the houses were thrown down, amidst a general terror and consternation,
the shocks following each other with frightful rapidity. Wountsendake
incessantly sent forth a hail-storm of stones, showers of ashes, and
streams of lava, which devastated the country for many leagues round.
At length, on the first day of the fourth month, there was a new
commotion, which increased in intensity from moment to moment.
"Simabara was now a vast heap of ruins. Enormous blocks of rock,
tumbling from the top of the mountain, crushed and ground to atoms all
beneath them. Thunder rolled overhead, and dreadful sounds rumbled
beneath the feet at one and the same time. All of a sudden, after an
interval of calm, when men thought the scourge had passed over, the
northern spur of Wountsendake, the Moikenyamma, burst forth with a
tremendous detonation. A vast portion of that mountain was blown into
the air. Colossal masses fell into the sea. A stream of boiling water
rushed forth foaming from the cracks of this new volcano, and sped to
the ocean, which at the same time advanced and flooded the land."
Then was seen a sight never seen before, intensifying the terror of
the innumerable witnesses of that terrible day, which might well seem
a Day of Judgment come. From the conflict of the boiling waters of
the volcano with the cold waters of the tempestuous ocean, suddenly
mingled, there arose waterspouts which ravaged the land in their
devouring gyrations.
The disasters caused by this accumulation of catastrophes, earthquakes,
volcanic eruptions, waterspouts, inundations, united together, exceed
belief. Not a single house of Simabara and its environs was spared:
only the citadel remained, whose Cyclopean walls were formed of
gigantic blocks of stone. The convulsions of nature on that day so
changed the coast-line, that the most experienced mariners could not
recognise its once familiar shape and bendings.
Fifty-three thousand persons perished on that fatal day.
ORIGIN OF THE HOUSE OF MULGRAVE.
The first diving bell was nothing but a very large kettle, suspended
by ropes, with the mouth downwards, and planks to sit on fixed in
the middle of its concavity. The Greeks at Toledo, in 1588, made an
experiment before the Emperor Charles V. with it, when they descended
with a lighted candle to a considerable depth. In 1683 William Phipps,
the son of a blacksmith, formed a project for unloading a rich Spanish
ship, sunk at Hispaniola; Charles II. gave him a ship, with every
necessary for the undertaking; but being unsuccessful, Phipps returned
in great poverty. He then endeavoured to procure another vessel,
but failing, he got a subscription, to which the Duke of Albemarle
contributed. In 1687, Phipps set sail in a ship of 200 tons, having
previously engaged to divide the profits according to the twenty
shares of which the subscription consisted. At first all his labours
proved fruitless, but at length, when he seemed almost to despair, he
was fortunate enough to bring up so much treasure that he returned to
England with L200,000 sterling. Of this sum he got about L20,000, and
the Duke of Albemarle L90,000. Phipps was knighted by the king, and
laid the foundation of the present house of Mulgrave.
SHRINE OF ST. SEBALD AT NUREMBURG.
The city of Nuremberg--the birthplace of Albert Durer--is enriched with
many works of high art. The most remarkable is the bronze shrine of St.
Sebald, the work of Peter Vischer and his five sons, which still stands
in all its beauty in the elegant church dedicated to the saint. The
sketch on next page is a correct representation of it.
[Illustration: [++] Shrine of St. Sebald.]
The shrine encloses, amid the most florid Gothic architecture, the
oaken chest encased with silver plates, containing the body of the
venerated saint: this rests on an altar decorated with basso-relievos,
depicting his miracles. The architectural portion of this exquisite
shrine partakes of the characteristics of the _Rennaissance_ forms
engrafted on the mediaeval, by the influence of Italian art. Indeed,
the latter school is visible as the leading agent throughout the
entire composition. The figures of the Twelve Apostles and others
placed around it, scarcely seem to belong to German art; they are
quite worthy of the best _Transalpine_ master. The grandeur, breadth,
and repose of these wonderful statues, cannot be excelled. Vischer
seems to have completely freed his mind from the conventionalities of
his native schools: we have here none of the constrained, "crumpled
draperies," the home studies for face and form so strikingly present in
nearly all the works of art of this era, but noble figures of the men
elevated above the earthly standard by companionship with the Saviour,
exhibiting their high destiny by a noble bearing, worthy of the solemn
and glorious duties they were devoted to fulfil. We gaze on these
figures as we do on the works of Giotto and Fra Angelico, until we feel
human nature may lose nearly all of its debasements before the "mortal
coil" is "shuffled off," and that mental goodness may shine through and
glorify its earthly tabernacle, and give an assurance in time present
of the superiorities of an hereafter. Dead, indeed, must be the soul
that can gaze on such works unmoved, appealing, as they do, to our
noblest aspirations, and vindicating humanity from its fallen position,
by asserting its innate, latent glories. Here we feel the truth of the
scriptural phrase--"In his own image made he them."
The memory of Peter Vischer is deservedly honoured by his townsmen.
The street in which his house is situated, like that in which Durer's
stands, has lost its original name, and is now only known as Peter
Vischer's Strasse; but these two artists are the only ones thus
distinguished. Vischer was born in 1460, and died in 1529. He was
employed by the warden of St. Sebald's, and magistrate of Nuremberg,
Sebald Schreyer, to construct this work in honour of his patron saint;
he began it in 1506, and finished it in 1519. Thirteen years of labour
were thus devoted to its completion, for which he received seven
hundred and seventy florins. "According to this tradition, Vischer
was miserably paid for this great work of labour and art; and he
has himself recorded, in an inscription upon the monument, that 'he
completed it for the praise of God Almighty alone, and the honour of
St. Sebald, Prince of Heaven, by the aid of pious persons, paid by
their voluntary contributions.'" The elaboration of the entire work is
marvellous; it abounds with fanciful figures, seventy-two in number,
disposed among the ornaments, or acting as supporters to the general
composition. Syrens hold candelabra at the angles; and the centre has
an air of singular lightness and grace. It is supported at the base
by huge snails. At the western end there is a small bronze statue of
Vischer; he holds his chisel in his hand, and in his workman's dress,
with capacious leather apron, stands unaffectedly forth as a true,
honest labourer, appealing only to such sympathies as are justly due to
one who laboured so lovingly and so well.
A GREAT RESULT FROM TRIVIAL CIRCUMSTANCES.
That magnificent institution of active benevolence, Guy's Hospital,
is one among a numerous list of instances where trifling events have
produced most disproportionate consequences.
[Illustration: [++] Thomas Guy.]
Thomas Guy, of whom the above is a sketch, taken from an old print, was
the son of Thomas Guy an Anabaptist, lighterman and coal-dealer, in
Horsleydown, Southwark. He was put apprentice in 1660 to a bookseller
in the porch of Mercer's Chapel, and set up trade with a stock of about
two hundred pounds, in the house that forms the angle between Cornhill
and Lombard-street. The English Bibles being at that time very badly
printed, Mr. Guy engaged with others in a scheme for printing them in
Holland and importing them; but this being put a stop to, he contracted
with the University of Oxford for their privilege of printing them,
and carried on a great Bible trade for many years to considerable
advantage. He thus began to accumulate money, and his gains rested in
his hands, for being a single man, and very penurious, his expenses
were very trifling. His custom was to dine on his shop counter, with
no other table-cloth than an old newspaper; he was also as little nice
in regard to his dress. The bulk of his fortune, however, was acquired
by the less reputable purchase of seamen's tickets during Queen Anne's
wars, and by the South Sea stock in the memorable year 1720.
In proof of what we said at the outset, it is a fact that the public
are indebted to a most trifling incident for the greatest part of
his immense fortunes being applied to charitable uses. Guy had a
maid-servant whom he agreed to marry; and preparatory to his nuptials
he had ordered the pavement before his door to be mended as far as a
particular stone which he marked. The maid, while her master was out,
innocently looking on the paviours at work, saw a broken place they had
not repaired, and mentioned it to them; but they told her that Mr. Guy
had desired them not to go so far. "Well," says she, "do you mend it;
tell him I bade you, and I know he will not be angry." It happened,
however, that the poor girl presumed too much on her influence over
her wary lover, with whom the charge of a few shillings extraordinary
turned the scale against her, for Guy, enraged to find his orders
exceeded, renounced the matrimonial scheme, and built hospitals in
his old age. In 1707 he built and furnished three wards on the north
side of the outer court of St. Thomas's Hospital, and gave one hundred
pounds to it annually for eleven years preceding the erection of his
own hospital.
Sometime before his death he erected the stately gate with the large
houses on each side, at the expense of about three thousand pounds.
He was seventy-six years of age when he formed the design of building
the hospital near St. Thomas's, which bears his name. The charge of
erecting this vast pile amounted to L18,793, besides L219,499 which he
left to endow it, and he just lived to see it roofed in.
He erected and endowed an almshouse and library at Tamworth, the place
of his mother's nativity, and which he represented in Parliament. It
contains fourteen poor men and women, and the fund provides also for
the apprenticing of poor children. He also bequeathed four hundred
pounds a-year to Christ's Hospital.
Mr. Guy died December 17th, 1724 in the eighty-first year of his age,
and his will bears date September 4th, in the same year.
PHAROS AT ALEXANDRIA.
To render the harbour safe of approach at all times, Ptolemy Soter,
who, on the death of Alexander, obtained the government of Egypt,
determined on erecting a lighthouse on the eastern extremity of the
isle of Pharos, the celebrity of which has given the same name to all
other lighthouses.
This "pharos" was in height 450 feet, and could be seen at a distance
of 100 miles. It was built of several stories, decreasing in dimension
towards the top, where fires were lighted in a species of lantern. The
ground-floor and the two next above it were hexagonal; the fourth was a
square with a round tower at each angle; the fifth floor was circular,
continued to the top, to which a winding staircase conducted. In the
upper galleries some mirrors were arranged in such a manner as to show
the ships and objects at sea for some considerable distance. On the top
a fire was constantly kept, to direct sailors into the bay, which was
dangerous and difficult of access.
The whole of this masterpiece of art was exquisitely wrought in stone,
and adorned with columns, balustrades, and ornaments, worked in the
finest marble. To protect the structure from the ocean storms, it was
surrounded entirely by a sea wall. Ancient writers say the building of
this tower cost 800 talents, which is equivalent to L165,000, if Attic
talents; but if Alexandrian, double that sum.
The building was not completed during the reign of the first Ptolemy,
but was finished in the reign of his son Ptolemy Philadelphus, who put
this inscription upon it:--