[4] It was in 1766 and not in 1764 that this theater in Beekman street, or, as it was then called, Chapel street, was torn down in a riot growing out of the Stamp Act. The bill for the performance that night was “May 5, 1766, at the theatre in Chapel Street, a comedy called the ‘Twin Rivals,’ with a Song in praise of liberty and the King and the Miller of Mansfield.
“N. B. As the packet is arrived and has been the messenger of good news relative to the Repeal it is hoped the public has no objection to the above performance”—a hope that was not fulfilled.
Gabriel Furman, in a manuscript history of the New York stage, says, “about the year 1761 Phil Miller, well-known in the city for a plodding, active, managing man, obtained permission of Governor Colden to build a theatre and act plays, which he did in Beekman Street, a little below Nassau Street. This was a wooden building, in poor condition, with paper scenery and a wretched wardrobe. The whole was destroyed by a mob, created by the Stamp Act. Phil Miller lost his house and company. He was a jocose fellow and played Justice Gattle with great humor.”
SUPPLEMENT.
Very early information respecting the drama in North America is found in a letter by Chief Justice Samuel Sewall of Massachusetts, dated March 2, 1714, in which he protests against the acting of a play in the Council Chamber at Boston, affirming that even the Romans, fond as they were of plays, were not “so far set upon them as to turn their Senate House into a Play-House.” “Let not Christian Boston,” he continues, “goe beyond Heathen Rome in the practice of Shamefull Vanities.”
Some account of this early opponent of the American drama may not be out of place here, as he was an interesting character. He was born in England and came to New England with his parents, who settled in Newbury, Massachusetts. After graduating at Harvard College he entered the ministry, which vocation he left after a short time and took charge of the printing-press in Boston, which was under his management for three years. He had also other public trusts. He was a member of the Council, a judge of the Court of Probates, and afterward became Chief Justice of Massachusetts. As a judge he took part in what is known as the Salem Witchcraft Trials, and is said to have been the only one of the judges who publicly confessed his error. In 1697, five years after these trials, he prepared a written confession, which was read to the congregation of the old South Church in Boston by the minister, the judge, during the reading, standing up in his place, and during the remaining thirty-one years of his life he spent one day annually in fasting, meditation, and prayer, to keep in mind a sense of the enormity of his offense. This public exhibition of remorse was what might be expected on the part of a truly conscientious man, for the drama to which he was so much opposed has not often been used for the fictitious representation of scenes more harrowing than those he witnessed and took part in in Salem; scenes that find their counterpart to-day only among the superstitious savages of Western Africa.
The minister of the church in the village of Salem, who had had a bitter strife with a portion of his congregation, got up this accusation of witchcraft, as a means of vengeance in which he was both accuser and witness, prompting the answers of other witnesses and acting as recorder to the magistrates, in which he was supported throughout by Cotton Mather. Within less than two months twenty persons were tried, condemned, and hanged, among them five women of blameless lives, all declaring their innocence. A minister was hanged as a witch for declaring that there could be no such thing as witchcraft, “an opinion,” says Bancroft, that “wounded the self-love of the judges, for it made them the accusers and judicial murderers of the innocent.” Fifty-five persons were tortured or terrified into confession. “With accusations,” continues the historian, “confessions increased, and with confessions new accusations.” The jails were full. No one that confessed after condemnation was hanged, but those who retracted after confession were. A minister of the gospel is recorded as saying: “There hang eight firebrands of hell!” pointing to the bodies swinging on the gallows,[5] and the writer of a production which exposed the whole proceeding to ridicule, and was chiefly instrumental in putting an end to it, was denounced as “a coal from hell” by Cotton Mather, who, through religious vanity, credulity, self-righteousness, ambition, or all combined, while he ceased subsequently to repeat the statements or accusations, unlike Sewall, made no acknowledgment thereafter of his error.
This striking example of judicial conscientiousness on the part of Sewall was not a single characteristic of this Puritan chief justice, for in addition to being an able man, he was also a benevolent one, whose warmest sympathies were with the down-trodden and oppressed. In 1700 he published a tract entitled “The Selling of Joseph,” in which he advocated the rights of the slaves in the Colonies, and to that extent may be regarded as one of the pioneers in this country in the long struggle for negro emancipation. He was the author of several publications upon religious subjects, and of one upon the Kennebec Indians, but at the present day is chiefly known for a diary published by the Massachusetts Historical Society that he kept during the larger part of his life, which, in addition to being entertaining, sheds much light upon the manners, habits, and social state of New England at that period.
It may fairly be assumed that what he protested against did not take place, for if the play had been acted in the Council Chamber some account of it or reference to it would, in all probability, have come down to us.
While preparing my former paper I met with certain statements that satisfied me that English actors had been in the West Indies by whom plays had been performed there, but at how early a period, or whether they or any of them had come to the North American colonies and had been members of the companies referred to in the paper, I had not been able to ascertain, but I afterwards found that it appears by a Barbadoes newspaper of March 18, 1731, that in 1728 some gentlemen in Barbadoes acted plays, the names of Mr. Vaughan and Mr. Rice being given; the former of whom delivered a prologue and the latter an epilogue; I was also disposed to think that in 1732 they had a theater there, for it appeared by a newspaper of that year that on August 16, 1732, “The Royal Consort” was acted, that the prologue was spoken by a Mr. John Snow, and the epilogue would appear by a Miss Whiten, who are referred to as new comers to the island.[6]