wherein he intended to accomplish his pretended voyage. Wherefore, being
furnished with the aforesaid two barks, and one small pinnace of ten ton
burden, having therein victuals and other necessaries for twelve months'
provision, he departed upon the said voyage from Blackwall, the 15. of
June,[3] Anno Domini 1576.
[3] The date is incorrect. Hall quitted his moorings at Ratcliffe
on the 7th, and left Deptford on the 8th. In passing the royal
palace of Greenwich, says Hall, "we shot off our ordnance, and
made the best show we could. Her majesty, beholding the same,
commended it, and bade us farewell, with shaking her hand at us
out of the window." Gravesend was passed on the 12th.
One of the barks wherein he went was named the Gabriel, and the other
the Michael; and, sailing northwest from England upon the 11. of July he
had sight of an high and ragged land, which he judged to be Frisland,[4]
whereof some authors have made mention; but durst not approach the same
by reason of the great store of ice that lay alongst the coast, and the
great mists that troubled them not a little. Not far from thence he lost
company of his small pinnace, which by means of the great storm he
supposed to be swallowed up of the sea; wherein he lost only four men.
Also the other bark, named the Michael, mistrusting the matter, conveyed
themselves privily away from him, and returned home, with great report
that he was cast away.
[4] The land was Greenland. Friesland was the name given to the
Faroe Islands in the voyage of the brothers Zeni. Hall saw the
rocky spires of the coast "rising like pinnacles of steeples" in
the afternoon sun.
The worthy captain, notwithstanding these discomforts, although his mast
was sprung and his topmast blown overboard with extreme foul weather,
continued his course toward the northwest, knowing that the sea at
length must needs have an ending and that some land should have a
beginning that way; and determined therefore at the least to bring true
proof what land and sea the same might be so far to the northwestward,
beyond any that man hath heretofore discovered. And the 20. of July he
had sight of an high land, which he called "Queen Elizabeth's
Foreland,"[5] after her majesty's name. And sailing more northerly
alongst that coast, he descried another foreland,[6] with a great gut,
bay, or passage, dividing as it were two main lands or continents
asunder. There he met with store of exceeding great ice all this coast
along, and, coveting still to continue his course to the northward, was
always by contrary wind detained overthwart these straits, and could not
get beyond.
[5] The northeast corner of the island to the north of Resolution
Island.
[6] The North Foreland, at the southeast corner of Hall's Island.
Within few days after, he perceived the ice to be well consumed and
gone, either there engulfed in by some swift currents or indrafts,
carried more to the southward of the same straits, or else conveyed some
other way; wherefore he determined to make proof of this place, to see
how far that gut had continuance, and whether he might carry himself
through the same into some open sea on the back side, whereof he
conceived no small hope; and so entered the same the one-and-twentieth
of July, and passed above fifty leagues therein, as he reported, having
upon either hand a great main or continent. And that land upon his right
hand as he sailed westward he judged to be the continent of Asia, and
there to be divided from the firm of America, which lieth upon the left
hand over against the same.
This place he named after his name, "Frobisher's Straits,"[7] like as
Magellanus at the southwest end of the world, having discovered the
passage to the South Sea, where America is divided from the continent of
that land, which lieth under the south pole, and called the same straits
"Magellan's Straits."
[7] Afterward called Frobisher Bay.
After he had passed sixty leagues into this aforesaid strait, he went
ashore, and found signs where fire had been made. He saw mighty deer,
that seemed to be mankind, which ran at him; and hardly he escaped with
his life in a narrow way, where he was fain to use defence and policy to
save his life. In this place he saw and perceived sundry tokens of the
peoples resorting thither. And being ashore upon the top of a hill, he
perceived a number of small things fleeting in the sea afar off, which
he supposed to be porpoises, or seals, or some kind of strange fish; but
coming nearer, he discovered them to be men in small boats made of
leather. And before he could descend down from the hill, certain of
those people had almost cut off his boat from him, having stolen
secretly behind the rocks for that purpose; where he speedily hastened
to his boat, and bent himself to his halberd, and narrowly escaped the
danger, and saved his boat.
Afterward he had sundry conferences with them, and they came aboard his
ship, and brought him salmon and raw flesh and fish, and greedily
devoured the same before our men's faces. And to show their agility,
they tried many masteries upon the ropes of the ship after our mariners'
fashion, and appeared to be very strong of their arms and nimble of
their bodies. They exchanged coats of seals' and bears' skins, and such
like, with our men, and received bells, looking-glasses, and other toys
in recompense thereof again. After great courtesy and many meetings, our
mariners, contrary to their captain's direction, began more easily to
trust them; and five of our men going ashore were by them intercepted
with their boat, and were never since heard of to this day again; so
that the captain being destitute of boat, bark, and all company, had
scarcely sufficient number to conduct back his bark again.
He could now neither convey himself ashore to rescue his men, if he had
been able, for want of a boat; and again the subtle traitors were so
wary, as they would after that never come within our men's danger. The
captain, notwithstanding, desirous of bringing some token from thence of
his being there, was greatly discontented that he had not before
apprehended some of them; and, therefore, to deceive the deceivers, he
wrought a pretty policy. For knowing well how they greatly delighted in
our toys, and specially in bells, he rang a pretty loud bell, making
signs that he would give him the same who would come and fetch it. And
because they would not come within his danger for fear, he flung one
bell unto them, which of purpose he threw short, that it might fall into
the sea and be lost. And to make them more greedy of the matter he rang
a louder bell, so that in the end one of them came near the ship side to
receive the bell. Which when he thought to take at the captain's hand,
he was thereby taken himself; for the captain, being readily provided,
let the bell fall, and caught the man fast, and plucked him with main
force, boat and all, into his bark out of the sea. Whereupon, when he
found himself in captivity, for very choler and disdain he bit his
tongue in twain within his mouth; notwithstanding, he died not thereof,
but lived until he came in England, and then he died of cold which he
had taken at sea.
Now with this new prey, which was a sufficient witness of the captain's
far and tedious travel toward the unknown parts of the world, as did
well appear by this strange infidel, whose like was never seen, read,
nor heard of before, and whose language was neither known nor understood
of any, the said Captain Frobisher returned homeward, and arrived in
England, in Harwich, the second of October following, and thence came to
London, 1576, where he was highly commended of all men for his great and
notable attempt, but specially famous for the great hope he brought of
the passage to Cataya.
And it is especially to be remembered that at their first arrival in
those parts there lay so great store of ice all the coast along, so
thick together, that hardly his boat could pass unto the shore. At
length, after divers attempts, he commanded his company, if by any
possible means they could get ashore, to bring him whatsoever thing they
could first find, whether it were living or dead, stock or stone, in
token of Christian possession, which thereby he took in behalf of the
Queen's most excellent majesty, thinking that thereby he might justify
the having and enjoying of the same things that grew in these unknown
parts.
Some of his company brought flowers, some green grass; and one brought a
piece of black stone, much like to a sea coal in color, which by the
weight seemed to be some kind of metal or mineral. This was a thing of
no account in the judgment of the captain at first sight; and yet for
novelty it was kept, in respect of the place from whence it came. After
his arrival in London, being demanded of sundry his friends what thing
he had brought them home out of that country, he had nothing left to
present them withal but a piece of this black stone. And it fortuned a
gentlewoman, one of the adventurer's wives, to have a piece thereof,
which by chance she threw and burned in the fire, so long that at the
length being taken forth, and quenched in a little vinegar, it glistened
with a bright marquesite of gold. Whereupon the matter being called in
some question, it was brought to certain gold-finers in London to make
assay thereof, who gave out that it held gold, and that very richly for
the quantity.[8] Afterward the same gold-finers promised great matters
thereof if there were any store to be found, and offered themselves to
adventure for the searching of those parts from whence the same was
brought. Some that had great hope of the matter sought secretly to have
a lease at her majesty's hands of those places, whereby to enjoy the
mass of so great a public profit unto their own private gains.
[8] The English assayers all pronounced the stone worthless. An
Italian, Giovanni Baptista Agnello, reported it to contain gold.
On being questioned as to how it was that he alone was able to
produce gold from the stone, he is said to have replied, "_Bisogna
safiere adular la natura_" ("Nature requires coaxing "). Agnello's
assay necessarily involved the addition of other substances for
the purpose of separating the gold; and it has been suggested that
the gold produced by him was itself added during this process.
There is no good reason for thinking so. Pyrites often contains a
minute proportion of gold. Admitting the possibility of trickery
in the case of the small specimen submitted to Agnello, it is
incredible that the fraud should have been successfully repeated
when the two hundred tons of mineral brought back by the second
expedition came to be tested. The mineral undoubtedly contained
gold, but not enough to pay for the carriage and working.
In conclusion, the hope of more of the same gold ore to be found kindled
a greater opinion in the hearts of many to advance the voyage again.
Whereupon preparation was made for a new voyage against the year
following, and the captain more specially directed by commission for the
searching more of this gold ore than for the searching any further
discovery of the passage. And being well accompanied with divers
resolute and forward gentlemen, her majesty then lying at the Right
Honorable the Lord of Warwick's house, in Essex, he came to take his
leave; and kissing her highness' hands, with gracious countenance and
comfortable words departed toward his charge.
BUILDING OF THE FIRST THEATRE IN ENGLAND
A.D. 1576
KARL MANTZIUS
_A History of the Theatre_, the scholarly work of Mantzius, has had
no time to become a classic--published 1904--but certainly the
author has delved into his subject with a minuteness and presented
it with a lively interest which fully justify the selection of his
work for presentation here.
The theatre has become so prominent an institution among us that its
origin must be of interest to all; and the building of the first
theatre is inextricably interwoven with the larger and vaguer story
of the rise of the modern drama itself. The dramatic arts of Greece
and Rome had never been wholly forgotten. Their traditions survived
in Italy in the crude pantomime performances of the common people.
Practically, however, the Middle Ages invented a new dramatic art of
their own, developed from the gorgeous religious pantomime of the
church services. The theatre was born of the cathedral; the stage,
of the altar.
The plays, at first purely religious, rapidly developed a comic
side, which by degrees became their central theme. The moral purpose
of the performance was forgotten; and the Church disowned its evil
changeling. To none of these early plays can the term "drama" be
accurately applied; for each and all of them lack plot. They are
merely a series of disconnected scenes, pictures having small
connection and less development. The idea of pursuing a single,
slowly developing story to its climax and conclusion dawns upon the
modern stage only with the English Elizabethan drama.
Despite our imperfect knowledge of the plays and players of that
time, one feels almost justified in saying that the modern drama was
created about 1580 by Christopher Marlowe and was raised to the
highest point of its development about 1600 by William Shakespeare.
At the date of Shakespeare's birth, 1564, no permanent theatre as yet
existed in England. But there had long existed a class of professional
actors, descended partly from the mystery and the miracle-playing
artisans of the Middle Ages, partly from the strolling players,
equilibrists, jugglers, and jesters. Professional Italian actors,
players of the _commedia dell'arte_, who in the sixteenth century spread
their gay and varied art all over Europe, also supplied English players
with that touch of professional technique in which their somewhat
vacillating and half-amateurish arts were still wanting.
While, however, as far as France is concerned, the Italian influence
must strike everybody who studies the stage history of the country, the
evidence of a fertilization of English scenic art by the commedia dell'
arte is scanty. Yet I think it is sufficient to deserve more attention
than has hitherto been bestowed upon it.
In any case there is sufficient evidence to prove that Italian
professional actors penetrated into England and exercised their art
there.
In January, 1577, an Italian comedian came to London with his company.
The English called him Drousiano, but his real name was Drousiano
Martinelli, the same who, with his brother Tristano, visited the court
of Philip II, and there is no reason to suppose that he was either the
first or the last of his countrymen who tried to carry off English gold
from merry London. The typical Italian masks are quite well known to the
authors of that period. Thus Thomas Heywood mentions all these doctors,
zanies, pantaloons, and harlequins, in which the French, and still more
the Italians, distinguished themselves. In Kyd's _Spanish Tragedy_, and
in Ben Jonson's _The Case is Altered_, mention is made of the Italian
improvised comedy, and a few of the well-known types of character in the
dramatic literature of the time bear distinct traces of having been
influenced by Italian masks, _e.g._, Ralph Roister Doister in Udall's
comedy of that name; as well as the splendid Captain Bobadill and his no
less amusing companion, Captain Tucca, in Ben Jonson's _Every Man in his
Humour_ and _The Poetaster_, all of which are reproductions of the
typical _capitano_.
However, it is not these literary testimonies that I consider the most
striking evidence of the influence of Italian professional technique on
English professional actors. It is a remarkable discovery made by the
highly esteemed Shakespearean archaeologist, Edmund Malone, about a
century ago, in Dulwich College, that mine of ancient English dramatic
research, founded by the actor Edward Alleyn.
Among the notes left by the old pawnbroker and theatrical manager,
Henslowe, and the various papers, letters, parts, accounts, etc., of his
son-in-law, the famous and very wealthy actor Alleyn, among these rare
documents, to which we owe a great part of our knowledge of the
Shakespearean stage, Malone found four remarkable card-board tables, on
which the plots of as many plays were put down, together with the names
of the persons represented, their entrances and exits, cues for music,
sonnets, etc.
According to Collier's description, these tables--one of which only is
preserved, the three others having disappeared through the carelessness
and disorder which at that time prevailed in the Dulwich treasury--were
about fifteen inches in length and nine in breadth. They were divided
into two columns, and between these, toward the top of the table, there
was a square hole for hanging it up on a hook or some such thing. They
bore the following titles:
1. The Plotte of the Deade Man's Fortune.
2. The Plotte of the First Parte of Tamar Cain.
3. The Plotte of Frederick and Basilea.
4. The Plotte of the Second Parte of the Seven Deadlie Sinns.
The last-mentioned play is known for certain to have been composed by
the excellent comic actor, Richard Tarlton. Gabriel Harvey, the
astrologist, and the implacable antagonist of Thomas Nash, tells us in
his letters how Tarlton himself in Oxford invited him to see his
celebrated play on _The Seven Deadly Sins_; Harvey asked him which
of the seven was his own deadly sin, and he instantly replied, "By
G----, the sinne of other gentlemen, lechery."
Tarlton died in the year 1588, and some of the other plays, especially
_The Dead Man's Fortune_, are considered to be a good deal older than
his. They belong, therefore, to an early period of the English
Renaissance stage.
These four tables caused considerable trouble to Malone and his
contemporary Steevens, as well as to later investigators, as they are
without equals in the archæology of the English stage. If these men had
known that such tables, containing the plot of the piece which was acted
at the time, were always hung upon the stage of the Italian commedia
dell' arte in order to assist the memory of the improvising actors, they
would have seen instantly that their essential historical importance to
us consists in their showing by documentary evidence how the early
Elizabethan scenic art in its outer form was influenced and improved by
the Italians.
The fact that one of the principal characters in the oldest scenario,
_The Dead Man's Fortune_, bears the name of "Panteloun" further confirms
this supposition.
This is not the place to investigate how far the English were influenced
by Italian professional dramatic art. At any rate, the English national
character differed too much from the Italian to allow it to receive more
than an outward and formal stamp. And even this superficial effect is
much less significant in England than in France. Still, we are certainly
not mistaken in assuming that it helped to strengthen English dramatic
art, which already possessed no small amount of power; and we may take
it for granted that about the time of Shakespeare's birth London
possessed a socially and professionally organized class of actors, in
spite of the fact that they did not yet possess a theatre of their own.
Before proper theatres were built, and after the time of the great
mysteries, the actors found a refuge for their art chiefly in the inns,
those splendid and expensive old public-houses which convey to our minds
the idea of old-fashioned and picturesque comfort; where the nobility
and clergy sought their quarters in winter, and where the carriers
unloaded their goods in the large square yards, which were surrounded on
all sides by the walls of the inn. On these walls there were galleries
running all round, supported by wooden pillars and with steep
picturesque ladders running up to them.
It was in these yards of the Cross Keys in Gracechurch Street, of The
Bull in Bishopsgate Street, La Belle Sauvage on Ludgate Hill, or the
Tabbard Inn in Southwark that the actors set up their stages. Perhaps it
was this very circumstance that became one of the indirect reasons why
they finally were obliged to build a house for themselves.
Certainly the inns offered advantages to the actors; they were
meeting-places for the public, frequented by lords and other persons of
distinction; probably the companies paid next to nothing for the use of
them. In themselves they afforded good room for the audience, with a
natural pit for ordinary people in the yard, and with more comfortable
"boxes" for the more distinguished part of the audience on the
surrounding balconies and at the windows facing the yard.
On the other hand, these inn-theatres had their drawbacks. In the first
place, the actors were not on their own ground, and so, after all, they
were only tolerated. Secondly, it must have been very difficult for them
to keep to regular prices, and especially to secure the payment of the
entrance fee, as they had probably to collect the money during or after
the performance, thus depending on the liberality of the public for
their remuneration. And finally, worst of all, they were led into
quarrels with the lord mayor and with the citizens.
Indeed, it is not unlikely that these performances in the inns caused a
good deal of noise and disturbance in the quarters where they took
place, and that the joyous, but by no means refined or quiet, "pit,"
when going home, excited by one of Tarlton's jigs and by the strong ale
of the inn, was not animated by very respectful feelings toward their
sour Puritan fellow-citizens, who were scandalized as they watched
"merry London" crowding past their windows. Nor is it improbable that
these anything but respectful feelings vented themselves in some of the
coarse expressions in which the plays of those times abound, where
Puritanism, the sworn enemy, is concerned; "this barbarous sect," as it
is called by a modern English author, "from whose inherited and
contagious tyranny this nation is as yet but imperfectly released."
It is certain, at any rate, that the Puritan citizens entertained a deep
and sincere hatred of anything connected with plays and actors, and if
it had been in their power to do what they liked, the world would once
for all have been relieved of such pernicious and wicked vagabonds as
William Shakespeare, Christopher Marlowe, and Ben Jonson.
Fortunately, however, this power did not lie with the Puritans only.
Luckily, this sect, which like a malicious growth seemed to have
gathered to itself all the stubbornness, insensibility, and rude
obstinacy of the nation, was counterbalanced by a refined and
intellectual nobility, which was inspired by the new artistic and
philosophical thought of the Renaissance, and seemed to foresee, if not
fully to recognize, what a mine of poetry the English theatre of those
times was destined to be. Thanks to men like Sir Francis Walsingham,
Lords Leicester, Nottingham, Strange, and Sussex, the drama resisted for
a time the violent and unwearied attacks of the Puritans. Most
fortunately for the actors also, Queen Elizabeth, as well as her
successors, James I and Charles I, was fond of plays and favorably
inclined toward their performers.
Elizabeth rendered a great service to the actors by placing them under
the patronage of the nobility. The municipal authorities, who were
frequently Puritan, considered neither dramatic art nor dramatic poetry
as an acceptable means of livelihood; consequently, those who cultivated
these noble arts easily exposed themselves to being treated as
"masterless men," unless they could give a reference to some
distinguished aristocratic name.
The Queen ordered by law--in a statute which has often been
misunderstood--"that all common players of interludes wandering abroad,
other than players of interludes belonging to any baron of this realme,
or any other honorable personage of greater degree, to be authorized to
play under the hand and seale of arms of such baron or personage, shall
be adjudged and deemed rogues and vagabonds"; in other words, the Queen
urged all actors, for their own sakes, to place themselves under the
patronage of some nobleman, in order to protect them against the
persecution of the Puritan citizens.