within the last few years is regarded as an
extraordinary event? How, too, about the house in
Salisbury-court, which was only within a long
stone's throw of the Blackfriars? It was a
"private" house, like its haughty neighbour, which
was in itself a distinction, as I have pointed out
in my "New View of an Old Riot,"* so its
inferiority must have been rather in degree than
in kind. The same maybe said of the Cockpit,
about the inferiority of which to the Blackfriars
there can be no doubt, while the acting of the
Queen's servants does not seem to have been
of first-rate quality. But what was the position
of the Cockpit at any given time compared to
that of Salisbury-court? In the year 1638, the
Queen's servants moved from the former to the
latter, having originally migrated from the Bull;
but towards the end of the reign of Charles the
First, they were, according to the dialogue cited
above, settled once more at the Cockpit.

* See ALL THE YEAR ROUND, September 15.

In fact, the more we look at our materials for
information respecting the condition of the
London theatres before the Civil Wars, the
less reason have we to be satisfied with our
knowledge. On the other hand, when the
Merry Monarch comes home in 1660, our
theatrical history rapidly becomes clear and
definite, and there is scarcely a single performance
of which we cannot learn the details. No
corresponding difference is to be found with
respect to our knowledge of the theatrical
transactions of London from 1660 to 1866, and
therefore the word "modern" may fairly be
applied to the two centuries and more
comprised between these dates, while the word "old"
is used for something like a century preceding.

As, however, the fog which has cleared
away to display the glories of the brightest
day leaves behind it a haze, which lasts for
at least an hour, so are we a little in the
dark with respect to the theatrical details of
the years immediately following the restoration
of Charles the Second. We could tell on our
fingers the names of the members of the two
companies—the king's and the duke's—to
whom at once was appropriated the whole field of
the drama. We not only know by which of these
two companies every piece was performed, but,
with very few exceptions, we could accurately
describe the cast. But with respect to the early
employment of painted scenes our knowledge is
hazy. It is the chief object of this paper to
show wherein the haze consists, and to
contribute towards its dissipation.

In a paper on "Old Scenes and Scenery,"† I
have already expressed a suspicion that the use of
painted scenes had extended beyond the narrow
circle of court masques before the year 1647,
and found its way into one or more of the
theatres, which, whether technically called
"public" or "private," were open to public
patronage. That painted scenes were not in
common use I will concede, so we may generally
agree that, when the Puritans shut up the
theatres, the general notion of a theatrical
performance left in the mind of the English
public was one in which the relations of the
characters with regard to place were indicated
by the use of "traverses," or movable curtains,
as more particularly described in the paper on
"Old Scenes and Scenery."

† See No. 391 of the present volume.

In the year 1658, that is to say, during the
Protectorate of Cromwell, Sir William Davenant
gave daily at the Cockpit theatre, closed
for dramatic purposes, an entertainment entitled
The Cruelty of the Spaniards in Peru,
"expressed by vocal and instrumental music, and by
art of perspective in scenes." When Sir William,
under the patent granted by Charles the Second,
opened the theatre in Lincoln's Inn-fields, he
revived this entertainment, as one of the acts of
a medley work called The Play-house to be Let,
each act of which is a distinct piece, and which
is to be found in Davenant's collected works.

Now, if the manner in which the Cruelty of
the Spaniards, as represented at the Cockpit,
was like that in which it was performed at
Lincoln's Inn-fields, we had, in the year 1658,
not only scenery, but very remarkable scenic
effects in a place of public amusement. In the
stage directions for the first "entry" (a word
used instead of "act"), we are told that a
"lantdchap (landscape) of the West Indies is
discerned, distinguished from other regions by
the parched and bare tops of distant hills, and
by sands shining on the shores of rivers. The
prospect is made through a wood, differing from
those of European climates by representing of
cocoa-trees, pines, and palmitos, and on the
boughs of other trees are seen monkeys, apes,
and parrots, and, at further distances, valleys of
sugar-canes."

Here is evidently what a stage-carpenter
would call a "cut wood" with a landscape in
the background, and we may observe that Sir
William is very anxious to make his picture a
correct representation of South American or,
as he would say, "West Indian" scenery.
Further stage-direction shows that the employment
of characteristic "properties" must have
been very extensive, and the fact is important,
that every "entry" is illustrated by a separate
picture. But if we have scenery, we have, in
this case, no writing that can strictly be called
dramatic. Every entry opens with a speech,
spoken by the "Priest of the Sun," which is
invariably followed by a song and chorus. The
rest of the entertainment consists of dancing
and dumb-show, sometimes of a very elaborate
kind; but the personages never speak to each
other, nor do the lyrical portions of the work
ever take a dramatic form. Malone is of
opinion that Cromwell permitted the
performance at the Cockpit, as an exception to
theatrical exhibitions in general, on account of
his hatred to the Spaniards. This opinion may
be correct; but when I consider the peculiar
structure of the piece, and the care that is
manifestly taken to make it look like a stage-play,
without actually becoming one, I cannot help
surmising that the exclusive patronage it