I know from actual experience that few people take any intelligent interest in this great and all-absorbing subject. I have, alas, met several so-called educated men and women who have freely acknowledged that they are quite indifferent concerning the history of the past, although no subject of any importance can be thoroughly discussed without allusion to previous events. This attitude almost of revulsion exhibited by so many people for past history must have some deeply based reason for its existence. Many would explain this contempt for the past by the greater attraction of the wonderful world of science and mechanical transport. In my opinion, the real cause of this feeling is that the greater part of the population set up their idols to the worship of sport, which the public schools and universities ever delight to honour, and which, in my mind, is a public scandal which should be inquired into, and the authorities that encourage such wild orgies, severely reprimanded. The fascinating study of literature and art fill no void in the daily routine of their lives, a state of affairs greatly to be regretted; the welfare of the future generation rests with the teachers of the elementary schools, who should endeavour to foster in the young a genuine love for literature and all the arts that tend in elevating the mind. My enquiry why so few take any interest in these refining studies is generally met with the foolish and ill-bred answer that no immediate benefit is derived from these studies, as if the delights of the mind can be gauged by material benefits.

One more parting shaft. A governing corporation that sanctioned the demolition of Crosby Hall ought themselves to be demolished, or at least hounded out of the City by the citizens that placed them in power.

Although this theatre was situated outside the City boundary, the distance from the Metropolis was so short that Londoners were able to reach their destination without undue discomfort and fatigue. Notwithstanding that The Theatre was surrounded by fields, this obstacle proved to be of a negligible quantity. The novelty of the building and the vigorous dramatic force of the plays appealed to a populace ever seeking for amusement, and made this playhouse a success from its inauguration until its final destruction nearly a quarter of a century later. Londoners of to-day would consider any place surrounded by fields a pretty fair distance from the Metropolis, but towards the end of the sixteenth century the country could be reached in about a quarter of an hour by sharp walking from any point in the City, which at that date constituted London proper. The reason that Burbage, the proprietor, sought a locality for his projected theatre outside the centre of the business life of the City was primarily on account of the intense puritanical hatred against all theatrical entertainments, the mark of the beast being shown by the Lord Mayor and Corporation, who threatened with ejectment all the players from the City. The crisis came in 1576, when an order was promulgated by which all places of amusement were to be closed. This order principally affected all inn-yards where plays were held, also bear and bull baiting establishments. Driven almost to desperation, the players resolved on quitting the City before the order was set in motion. James Burbage, one of the leading actors in the Earl of Leicester’s Company, was by trade a joiner, and quite appropriately the builder of the first organized theatre not only in England but in modern Europe. This momentous decision proved of untold benefit in the course of the development of the drama, besides protecting his company from molestation and persecution. This almost inspired act prepared the way for the mighty genius who holds the world in awe, who was thus able to profit by this vast improvement and decisive innovation in the dramatic world. By taking this bold step the object of the City Fathers was completely frustrated, and their deep-laid schemes, in which the poor player was to be totally annihilated, recoiled on their own heads. The new venture was an instant success, instilling into the drama fresh blood and a long lease of life, daily growing more popular and prosperous and drawing within the charmed circle every class of citizen, with the exception of the puritan brigade.

The site chosen by Burbage for his first theatre was within the precincts of the ancient Priory of Holywell, a celebrated landmark in early Tudor times. The Priory was an ancient foundation originally built in the second decade of the twelfth century. The ground on which it stood was bequeathed by a Canon of St. Paul’s to a religious body of women known as the Benedictine Nuns. The building remained in their possession until the total suppression of all monastic orders in this country by the Mandate of Henry the Eighth. The Dissolution began about the year 1538, but the total extinction of the Abbey, including the Chantries, Chapels, and Churches, was not finally accomplished until ten years later. The last notice of the Priory as a living centre can be traced to the year 1539, when Sybilla Newdigate, the prioress, delivered up her house to the King. The suppression of the Monasteries was one of those drastic acts by which means the King defied the spiritual and temporal power of Rome, and proclaimed to the English people that he alone was supreme head of the Church in England.

The origin of the name Holywell is traceable to a well which existed in the parish of St. Leonard’s, Shoreditch, early in the twelfth century. The exact site of this well is unknown, but somewhere in close proximity to the new theatre. One authority states explicitly that it is discoverable, but now concealed from view in the present Bateman’s Row. An interesting relic of the ancient Priory can still be seen in the shape of an old stone wall about 50 ft. long, in a timber yard in High Street, Shoreditch. I must candidly admit that I have not seen this relic, but its existence is vouched by excellent authority. Immediately succeeding the Dissolution, the Priory was demolished and let out on building leases to various tenants. Stow, the London historian, writes: “Thence up to the late dissolved Priory, called Holywell, a house of Nuns. The Priory was valued at the Suppression to having lands £293 by year and was surrendered in 1539. The Church thereof being pulled down, many houses have been builded for the lodging of noblemen, of strangers and of others.” When the old Abbey was portioned into estates, one important lot fell into the hands of Henry Webb, who eventually disposed of it to Christopher Bumsted, who disposed of the same property to Giles Allen, from whom James Burbage took over a lease in 1576. All the minute particulars respecting the site of The Theatre are mostly due to a protracted lawsuit between Giles and Burbage, the records of which have been fortunately preserved, and were made public by J. O. Halliwell-Phillipps. The lease granted by Giles to Burbage contained a curious clause to the effect that Burbage was willing to accept a lease for twenty-one years provided that, at the termination of that period, the said Burbage, having expended the sum of not less than two hundred pounds on the building in the course of ten years, should have the option of taking down and removing the same to any locality he might select. A further clause also provided for an extension of the lease after the expiration of 21 years. For the present we will pass over the first 21 years and come to the critical year in the affairs of this playhouse. When the first lease was on point of expiry, James Burbage commenced negotiations for an extension of time, but unfortunately, while these particulars were being discussed, the original lessee, James Burbage died. By his will the interest of his Shoreditch property devolved upon his two sons, Richard and Cuthbert, the former being the famous actor; of the latter little is known, he may have been an actor in his brother’s company. The two sons, in an interview with Allen, the owner of the property, now demanded afresh an extension of the lease, Allen would have acceded to their request provided they paid an additional ten pounds a year and further stipulated that after five years from the signing of the new lease they must be prepared to use the property for other purposes than theatrical entertainments.

The new lease was never signed; nevertheless, for a brief period the Burbages remained in possession. No one will deny but that the tenants had a very uncomfortable and insecure tenure of the premises. The lessees must have realized the perilous position of their tenancy, which was liable to foreclosure at any moment. Being faced with this predicament they hit upon a desperate remedy. As stated above, a clause was inserted in the original lease whereby they had the right in pulling down and removing the said building. No sooner had they resolved upon this expedient than the plan was quietly carried into effect, thereby causing the lawsuit with Giles Allen, and incidentally throwing light on the early annals of the theatre. The following paragraph is an extract from Allen’s Bill of Complaints against Cuthbert Burbage, who “unlawfully combining and confederating himself with the said Richard Burbage and one Peter Street, William Smith, and divers other persons to the number of twelve, to your subject unknown, did about the eighth and twentieth day of December, in the one and fortieth year of your Highness’ reign, and since then your Highness’ last and general pardon by the confederacy aforesaid notoriously assemble themselves with divers and many unlawful and offensive weapons as namely, swords, daggers, billes, axes, and such like, and so armed did then repair unto the said Theatre, and then and there armed as aforesaid in very riotous, outrageous and forcible manner, and contrary to the laws of your Highness’ realm, attempted to pull down the said Theatre whereupon divers of your subjects, servants and farmers, then going about in peaceable manner to procure them from that their unlawful enterprise, that the said riotous persons aforesaid, notwithstanding procured then thereon with great violence, not only then and there forcible and riotously resisting your subjects, servants and farmers, and also then and there pulling down, breaking and throwing down the said Theatre in very outrageous and violent and riotous sort to the great disturbance and terrifying, not only of your subjects, said servants and farmers, but of divers others of your Majesty’s loving subjects there near inhabiting and having so done did then also in most forcible and riotous manner take and carry away from thence all the wood and timber thereof unto the Bankside in the parish of St. Overyes and there erected a new playhouse with the said timber and wood!”

All the world knows that the said new playhouse was the famous Globe Theatre, the glory of the Bankside and the scene of Shakespeare’s everlasting creations. Stow, the historian of London, in the first edition of the Survey of the City of London, mentions The Theatre by name in the following paragraph: “The church thereof being pulled downe, many houses have been builded for the lodging of noblemen of strangers borne and other. And neare thereunto are builded two publique houses for the acting and shewe of Comedies, Tragedies and Histories for recreation. Whereof the one is called the Courtein, the other the Theatre, both standing on the Southwest side towards the field.” The last few lines from “Whereof to field” were omitted in the second edition in 1603. The learned editor of the latest and best edition of this famous book, Charles Kingsford, M.A., by a slip of the pen, in a note to this passage, refers to the Curtain as having been demolished in 1600; of course, it should be the Theatre, and the date should be 1598. The field mentioned by Stow formed part of the well-known Finsbury Fields, the playground of Elizabethan Londoners; these fields abutted on Moorfields, which formed the boundary of North-East London. Many citizens took advantage of these open fields and used them as a short cut to the playhouse, generally going thither on horseback. This manner of approaching the playhouse may account for the tradition that Shakespeare on his first arrival in London held horses outside the building.

Sometime in 1576 the players were safely installed in the new building, notwithstanding the removal from the precincts of the City, persecution soon dogged their footsteps, inaugurated by a bitter attack from the puritan section of the community. The onslaught came from a clergyman in a book entitled A Treatise against Dicing, Dancing and Interludes with other idle pastimes, published in 1577. The author of this venomous tirade rebuking all kinds of amusement was John Northbroke, a preacher and procurator for the Bristol Clergy in the Synod of London. The tract is in the form of a dialogue between Youth and Age.

“Youth. Do you speak against these places also which are made up and builded for such plays and interludes as The Theatre and Curtain are and other such like places tendes.”

“Age. Yea, truly for I am persuaded that Satan hath not a more speedy way and fitter school to work and teach his desire to bring men and women into his snare than these places and plays and theatres are, and therefore necessary that these places and plays should be forbidden and dissolved and put down by authority.”