“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.”
The Bear Garden in Southwark, A. D. 1648.
From the large four-sheet View of London by Hollar.
THE LAST KNOWN REPRESENTATION OF THE PLACE
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 500l. 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 580l.
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.”