Showing posts with label Dean Hamilton. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dean Hamilton. Show all posts

Sunday, September 22, 2019

Editors Weekly Round-up, September 22, 2019

by the EHFA Editors

Contributors to English Historical Fiction Authors bring us posts that delve into various aspects of British history. Enjoy these fascinating stories, and never miss a post on EFHA when you follow us on Facebook, Twitter, or via email.

by Annie Whitehead



by Dean Hamilton



by Judith M Taylor

Tuesday, September 17, 2019

A Bridge for the Ages: London Bridge in the Time of Tudors

by Dean Hamilton

The most prominent geographical feature of London has always been the River Thames, and consequently, one of the most important and storied places in London has been that singular point of river crossing – London Bridge. Part transportation route, part linchpin for the storied city’s economy, history and social development, London Bridge is an iconic location.

Extant in multiple forms since the Roman’s first threw a makeshift pontoon bridge over the river in 52 CE, the bridge has seen many variations and changes over the centuries. The Saxons recorded throwing a witch off the structure in 730 AD, in all probability not the first nor the last to meet their deaths in the cold waters below.

Torn down, burnt, repaired, destroyed, swept asunder by floodwaters and invaders, it lacked any real permanence until the late 12th C when it was finally re-built in Kentish rag-stone. Stretching almost 900 feet in length, a series of stone arches were built upon 19 starlings set into the river bed. The bridge was an estimated 30 feet in width and was home to a chapel (the Chapel of St Thomas on the Bridge, dedicated to Thomas Becket, the martyred Archbishop of Canterbury), a drawbridge, several defensive gatehouses, a public latrine, watermill and by 1338, more than 138 shops.

By the Tudor era, the number of shops had risen to more than 200, with buildings towering almost seven stories in places, including rooftop “penthouses” and river terraces in the more expensive abodes.  John Stow’s “Survey of London” (published in 1598) noted “large, fayre and beautifull buildings, inhabitants for the most part, rich Marchantes, and other wealthie Citizens, Mercers and Haberdashers.

London Bridge, Agas Map, 1561
Passage through the bridge itself was narrow, overhung and obscured by the structures to the point that you could walk a significant stretch of the passage without ever realizing you were on a bridge. Near the centre of the bridge was Nonsuch House, a fanciful pre-fabricated wooden palace built without nails, using peg construction. Originally built in the Netherlands, it was carefully broken down, transported to London and re-constructed on London Bridge, replacing the rotting drawbridge fortifications in 1579.

It should be noted that these various bridge premises were “rented” rather than owned, with the rents in question applied to help pay for repair and bridge maintenance, as were the tolls for passage (both over and under) for people and goods.  The bridge wardens kept scrupulous accounts of monies collected and payments essayed for all types of work and maintenance from 1381 to 1538, an impressive and almost unbroken set of accounts.

From Bridge House Rental, Account for 1537-8: “To Ambrose Wolloys for 1 barrel of tar for ropes and the cement boat, 4s. 8d.” and “To William Lynger of Surrey for 3,000 paving tiles, 42s.

1632 oil painting "View of London Bridge" by Claude de Jongh
Despite the creation of a more permanent stone structure, work on the bridge was almost continual. Stone arches on occasion collapsed, wooden structures burned or became dilapidated. In 1213, the wooden buildings surmounting the bridge caught fire and an estimated 3,000 people were burned or drowned, many of whom flooded onto the bridge initially as spectators to watch a blaze in Southwark, only to be surrounded when the flames spread to the northern end of the bridge and trapped them. Other accidents were somewhat more peculiar, including in 1481 when the public privy overhanging the river collapsed, plunging five men to their deaths.

Danger existed below the bridge as well. The 19 starlings upon which the stone arches were built collectively blocked an estimated 45% of the river flow at high tide, causing a surging, roaring tidal rush of water through the archways.  Running these inadvertent rapids at times by boat, “shooting the bridge” became a dangerous pastime and gave rise to the saying “wise men walked and only fools went under”. Over time, silting in the tidal river narrowed the passages further, coupled with the addition of watermills and gristmills in 1581 and 1588.

“The barge of the Duke of Norfolk, starting from St. Mary Overie’s, with many a gentleman, squire, and yeoman, about half-past four of the clock on a November afternoon, struck (through bad steering) on a starling of London Bridge, and sank. The duke and two or three other gentlemen fortunately leaped on the piles were saved by ropes cast down from the parapet above; the rest, however, perished.”

The most singular feature of the bridge was probably the Great Stone Gateway in Southwark, which was decorated with the heads of executed traitors and criminals. Originally it was the drawbridge tower that held this grim decoration, but after it fell into disrepair, the heads were re-located to the Southwark end to greet any travelers coming up the Surrey road. The heads that decorated the bridge included at points such luminaries as William Wallace, Jack Cade, Thomas Moore (Henry VIII’s Lord High Chancellor of England), and Guy Fawkes, among many others, both high and low. Paul Hentzner, a German lawyer who visited in 1598 noted,

"On the south is a bridge of stone eight hundred feet in length, of wonderful work; it is supported upon twenty piers of square stone, sixty feet high and thirty broad, joined by arches of about twenty feet diameter. The whole is covered on each side with houses so disposed as to have the appearance of a continued street, not at all of a bridge. Upon this is built a tower, on whose top the heads of such as have been executed for high treason are placed on iron spikes: we counted above thirty”.


Details of London Bridge, Panorama of London (1616) by Claes VanVisscher

The bridge was a transient place for many Londoners, representing an escape from the daily grind of work, family and responsibility.  Southwark was technically outside the purview of the often strict Puritan aldermen that ran the Corporation of London, and as such became home to many of the more lurid social and entertainment activities. Bear-baiting and bull-baiting rings were a staple, joined later in 1587 by the Rose Theatre, the first of the Southbank playhouses. In 1598 the famous Globe Theatre joined the Rose, to be followed by the Hope Theatre in 1614. The area abounded with inn-houses, taverns, bowling alleys, gaming dens and most infamously, brothels, many of which were located on lands owned by the Bishop of Winchester, who subsequently collected the rents and payments and lent the Southbank prostitutes their derisive nickname of “Winchester Geese”.

1616 Visscher Panorama of London, Southwark detail, showing the Globe Theatre and The Bear Garden (Note: Visscher apparently got them reversed).





Bridges have always represented a crossing point, a demarcation of sorts, a boundary that sorts a city into places that often reflect a changed ethos. The Left Bank of Paris is one example. Southbank itself was often regarded as a vice-ridden source of danger, both exotic and manifest. The bridge was a common target for any military designs on London, a direct route into the heart of the city that was used multiple times by invaders. Jack Cade, the famous rebel “Captain of Kent”, charged his makeshift army across London Bridge in 1450, cutting the drawbridge ropes to prevent the citizens of London from raising the bridge against him. Shakespeare noted in Henry VI Part II:

“Jack Cade hath gotten London bridge:
The citizens fly and forsake their houses;
The rascal people, thirsting after prey,
Join with the traitor, and they jointly swear
To spoil the city and your royal court.”

London Bridge has earned an iconic status over time, regularly echoing its way through fiction and popular culture. You can find it popping up in William Gibson’s Bridge Trilogy, with the San Francisco–Oakland Bay Bridge covered with a sprawling shantytown reminiscent of the densely packed bridge of the Thames. It makes another appearance as the Long Bridge of Volantis in George R.R. Martin’s fantasy series Game of Thrones. London Bridge seems to lurk in the popular imagination, a ghost of a bygone era that almost anyone can appreciate as a unique and evocative setting.

London Bridge, unlike many of London’s Tudor-era buildings, survived the Great Fire of 1666, losing only about 1/3 of it’s buildings before the fire hit a previously fire-damaged section it could not leap across. What fire failed to do, the relentless London traffic and commerce did however, with the last tenant departing in 1762 as the buildings were razed and the bridge rebuilt and widened. In 1831 a new bridge was constructed and the old medieval structure was at last demolished. The new bridge was eventually sold in 1967, dismantled and rebuilt in Lake Havasu City, Arizona.

It famously lives on in rhyme, the earliest variation of which is believed to date back to the Danes. Old London Bridge is now a distant memory but one with stolid persistence.

London Bridge is broken down. —
Gold is won, and bright renown.
Shields resounding,
War-horns sounding,
Hild is shouting in the din!
Arrows singing,
Mail-coats ringing —
Odin makes our Olaf win!
-          1844 translation of the Norse saga the Heimskringla, verse by Óttarr svarti, celebrating the destruction of London Bridge by Olaf II of Norway in 1014.

---------

Dean Hamilton was born in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada. He spent the first half of his childhood chasing around the prairies and western Canada before relocating to Toronto, Ontario. He has three degrees (BA, MA & MBA), reads an unhealthy amount of history, works as a marketing professional by day and prowls the imaginary alleyways of the Elizabethan era in his off-hours. Much of his winter is spent hanging around hockey arenas and shouting at referees. He is married, with a son, a dog, and a small herd of cats.

He is the author of the gripping Elizabethan era thriller series The Tyburn Folios.

His first book THE JESUIT LETTER was an Editor's Choice Selection of the Historical Novel Society (HNS) and was short-listed for the HNS Indie Award as well as a semi-finalist for the M.M Bennetts Award.

His new book THIEVES' CASTLE was released on August 27, 2019 and is currently available in print and e-formats on Amazon. 

Twitter: @Tyburn__Tree






Thursday, January 7, 2016

"Cogging & Foisting": Elizabethan Cardplay & Gaming

by Dean Hamilton

“I never prospered since I forswore myself at primero. Well, if my wind were but long enough to say my prayers, I would repent.” 
– Falstaff, The Merry Wives of Windsor by William Shakespeare

Gambling games in the Elizabethan era variously included tossing the bales (dice), shrove-groat, venter point, cross-and-pile (all coin-tossing games), and wide variety of card games such as gleek, cent, foot-savant, maw, bone-ace, monchance & primero in all its many variations. Queen Elizabeth herself was inordinately fond of card games and played regularly (she apparently took Lord North for £33 playing Maw in August, 1577).



The Cardsharps, by Caravaggio, c 1594 
Note the player in the gold-striped doublet is cheating....

Technically gambling and games (along with bowls, tennis & football among others) were forbidden by law. The government instead encouraged all young males to practice he more martially useful sport of archery, an activity that was rapidly waning in face of gunpowder. The statutes on gambling were so commonly broken that the Queen eventually licensed the Groom-Porter's office in 1578 to allow licenses for gaming establishments, a very lucrative prerequisite for the occupants of the position.

Cheating was wide-spread and common, enough that a very specialized vocabulary for the many different variations has emerged and was in common language usage, often by Shakespeare and other playwrights. Cogging & foisting, cozening, cony-catching, bar-dice, bristle-dice, card chopping, highman & lowman and contraries were all actively in play.  False dice in particular were a concern (with at least 14 distinct variations cited) of the Groom-Porter's office as it cut into their own role as a monopoly supplier for licensed dice and cards.

"If you play among strangers, beware of him that seems simple or drunken; for under their habit the most special cozeners are presented, and while you think by their simplicity and imperfections to beguile them...you yourself will be most of all overtaken." - Reginald Scott, Discovery of Witchcraft, 1584

Elizabethan-era card decks were commonly imported from France or Germany. The earliest, most well-known designs were from Rouen, France by Pierre Marechal.  Spanish and Italian cards typically used 4 suits - chalices, swords, coins, and batons, while Germanic cards displayed hearts, acorns, hawk-bells, and leaves.  The French (and subsequent English cards) used the familiar hearts, spades, diamonds and clubs of today, although the cards did not display any numerals.

French card designs formed the basis for the subsequent development of English card decks after foreign cards were banned in 1628. Very few cards remain extant today, only about a dozen cards from the 1590's have survived.

Attitudes of the Puritan authorities towards any type of recreational activity, particularly gaming of any form, was generally negative. Even bowls, the famous pastime Sir Francis Drake was engaged in 1588 while waiting for the arrival of the Spanish Armada, was problematic. Bowling alleys are described in School of Abuse (1579) by Stephen Gosson as "privy moths that eat up the credit of many idle citizens, whose gains at home are not able to weight down their losses abroad, whose shops are so far from maintaining their play, that their wives and children cry out for bread, and go to bed supperless oft in the year."

Of all the card games, Primero was probably the most popular and widespread 16th century card game. The game originating in Italy or Spain.  Widespread across Europe, it is widely considered one of the precursors of modern Poker.  The game was very fashionable during the Tudor and Elizabethan eras. 

Primero is commonly played with four to six players, and with a 40-card deck with the 8, 9 and 10 cards removed.

Here is a quick (and fairly light) review of the basic rules, in case you wanted to "toss a hand" (be advised, there are a number of variant rules and approaches. This is just one variant, the one I used in illustrating a card-playing scene in my book The Jesuit Letter).

Each card has certain points value, regardless of suit:
  • Cards 2 to 5 = 10 points plus their value (i.e. 2 Clubs = 12 pts) 
  • Cards 6 and 7 = 3x their value  (i.e. 6 Hearts = 18 pts)
  • Face cards all count for 10 pts
  • Aces = 16 pts
PRIMERO HANDS FROM HIGH TO LOW
  • Chorus (Quartet)         = Four  of a kind         
  • Fluxus (Flush)              = All cards of the same suit
  • Numerus (Point)          = Two or three cards of the same suit. 
  • Supremus (Fifty-five)  = The highest possible three-flush, the Ace, 6, 7 (plus an unrelated fourth card) and Ace card from any other suit.
  • Primero (Prime)          = One card from each suit. It’s a four-card hand containing one card of each suit, hence the exact opposite of a “Flush” in Poker. 
HOW TO PLAY:

Two cards are dealt to each player (face down).  Players may elect to Vie/Bid, Stake or Pass. 

A Bid is an initial bet, but players must state their supposed point total of their hand, the hand type, and the bid amount (i.e. “Numerus 34, Bid $5).  Players  may understate their hands but you are not allowed to overstate its actual value.  

The next player may elect to Stake (cover) the bid or Pass.  If Staking, the player must cover the $ value bet (toss your coins into the pot), and state a hand of greater value than the previous player’s Bid.  If the player also elects to Bid, the player that follows them only needs to cover the previous player’s Bid, not the original one.

If the player elects to Pass, they put no money in, but must discard two cards and draw another two.

Once all players have Bid, or Passed, the second two cards are dealt.  Each player now has four cards.  Players may elect to Bid, Stake or Pass.

The rounds of Bid, Stake or Pass continues around until the last Bid is staked (similar to a covering the raise in Poker) at which point the winner (highest point value) would take the pot.

EXAMPLE:

The first set of two cards are dealt:       
  1. Player 1 is dealt 2 cards, a King of spades (10 pts) and five hearts (15 pts).  If bidding, P1 would state “Primero 20 (understating his actual hand value of Primero 25), $2.”
  2. Player 2 is dealt two sevens (hearts & clubs) for a total of 42 pts. He could Pass, putting in no $  (and discard his two cards for another two) , Stake for the previous P1 bid of $2, and then Bid himself with “Primero 34, Bid $15).
  3. Player 3 is dealt a three clubs (13 pts) and a four diamonds (14 pts), for a total of  27 pts.  P3 passes puts in no $ and discards his two cards for two new cards. Note, if he had decided to stake, he would be staking for the P2’s bid of $15. By passing, P3 has dumped that option onto P4.
  4. Player 4 receives a Queen hearts (10 pts)and an Ace hearts (16 pts) for a total of 26 pts. P4 Stakes the $15 and bids “Numerus 24, Bid $10)
The second set of two cards is dealt:
  1. P1 receives two clubs (12 pts) and five spades (15 pts).  P1 already has a King spades & five hearts, giving him a hand type of Numerus, with a total point value of 52 pts.
  2. P2 receives Jack hearts (10 pts) and an Ace spades (16 pts) . With P2’s two sevens, he now has a hand type of Numerus with a point value of 68.
  3. P3 passed during the last round, drawing a ten hearts (10 pts) and a six clubs (16 pts). P2 now receives a ten diamonds (10 pts) and a Queen spades (10 pts). This leaves him with a hand type of Primero, with a point value of 46.
  4. P4 is dealt another two hearts, the four (14 pts)  and the two (12 pts). This gives him a Fluxus (four of suit) with 52 points.
  5. The rounds of Bid, Stake or Pass continues around until the last Bid is staked (similar to a covering the raise in Poker) at which point the winner takes the pot. If the round ends with the current set of cards, then P4 wins with a Fluxus 52.
Now go forth, and win yourself some coin! 

"I was as virtuously given as a gentleman 
need to be; virtuous enough; swore little; diced not 
above seven times a week; went to a bawdy-house once 
in a quarter—of an hour; paid money that I 
borrowed, three of four times; lived well and in 
good compass: and now I live out of all order, out 
of all compass." 
- Falstaff, Henry IV Part I

SOURCES:
  1. The Time Traveller's Guide to Elizabethan England by Ian Mortimer
  2. The Elizabethan Underworld by Gamini Salgado
  3. Wikipedia, 2014. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Primero
  4. Primero: A Renaissance Card Game, by Jeff A. Suzuki, 1994.  http://math.bu.edu/people/jeffs/primero.html
  5. Game Report: Primero http://jducoeur.com/game-hist/game-recon-primero.html
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean Hamilton was born in Winnipeg, Manitoba. He spent the first half of his childhood chasing around the prairies and western Canada before relocating to Toronto, Ontario. He has three degrees (BA, MA & MBA), reads an unhealthy amount of history, works as a marketing professional by day and prowls the imaginary alleyways of the Elizabethan era in his off-hours. Much of his winter is spent hanging around hockey arenas and shouting at referees.
He is married with a son, a dog, four cats and a turtle named Tortuga. THE JESUIT LETTER is his first novel of a planned series THE TYBURN FOLIOS.
Twitter: @Tyburn__Tree

Books:
·         HNS Editor’s Pick
·         HNS 2016 Indie Award Short-listed

Ex-soldier turned play-actor Christopher Tyburn thought he had left bloodshed and violence behind him when he abandoned the war against the Spanish in Flanders, but fate has different and far bloodier plans waiting.
When Tyburn accidentally intercepts a coded latter from a hidden Jesuit priest in Warwickshire, he is entangled in a murderous and deadly conspiracy. Stalked by unknown enemies, he must race to uncover the conspiracy and hunt down the Jesuit to clear his name. . . or die a traitor's death. His only hope – an eleven-year old glover’s son named William Shakespeare.

BLACK DOG (novella) 






Friday, October 23, 2015

“by plain tooth and nail”: Bear-baiting in Elizabethan London

by Dean Hamilton

Visscher's Panorama of London, 1616

If you glance at the famous Visscher's Panorama of London from 1616, you will see, tucked into the foreground of the picture, on the south bank of the Thames to the left of London Bridge, a pair of octagonal buildings. These are the now famous Globe Theatre and its less-famous but almost equally popular neighbour, the Bear Garden, also known as the Paris Garden.

The Bear Garden was a bear-baiting ring.

Blood sports were popular with the Elizabethans. Bear-baiting stood alongside theatre as a choice entertainment spectacle, alongside other animal blood “sports” such as bull-baiting, badger-baiting, rat-pits and cock-fighting. All of these activities, to modern eyes, were inhumane, cruel and vicious bloodsports that inflicted pain and suffering on multitudes of animals, for the amusement of paid spectators. And yet, they were immensely popular.

Bear-baiting “performances” were held seven days a week, including Sundays, a fact that often raised the ire of the church and the London Aldermen. The bear-baiting ring consisted of a design not very different than that of the London theatres – an octagonal ring with tiered galleries, surrounding a fenced in “yard” or enclosure. Costs for entry was a penny for the bottom tier, two pennies for higher tiers. At the centre of the ring a bear, chained to a post, would be placed. Dogs, usually large English mastiffs, would be released into the yard to fight and attack the bear. The “performance” would continue until the bear was exhausted with fresh dogs replacing the spent, injured or dead ones. Bears were valuable investments for the impresarios operating the bear-baiting rings, so care was generally taken that the bears not be killed, although in no case was the treatment even remotely humane by modern standards. Teeth were filed short, to reduce injuries to the dogs. Blind bears were whipped to amuse the crowds.

Queen Elizabeth was quite taken with bear-baiting, staging it regularly at the enclosed tiltyard at the palace of Whitehall, most notably for the French Ambassador in May, 1559. The ambassador was so taken by the spectacle, he and his retinue promptly headed over to Southwark and the public bear-baiting the very next day.

Bear Baiting, Abraham Hondius 1650
The Earl of Leicester, hosting Elizabeth’s Summer Progress at Kenilworth Castle in July, 1575, brought in 13 bears and innumerable dogs to provide a bloody afternoon of “entertainment” for Elizabeth and her Court. By all accounts it was a rousing success with “fending & proving, with plucking and tugging, scratching and biting, by plain tooth and nail on one side and the other, such expense of blood and leather [skin] was there between them, as a months licking (I think) will not recover” (from Robert Laneham's Letter).

Londoners flocked to the rings and certain bears soon achieved a modest level of “fame”, accompanied by nicknames such as Harry Hunks, George Stone, Ned Whiting and Harry of Thame. The bear most familiar to modern audiences is Sackerson, who was highlighted in William Shakespeare’s The Merry Wives of Windsor:
Slender: ….Why do your dogs bark so? be there bears i’ the town?
Anne: I think there are, sir; I heard them talked of.
Slender: I love the sport well; but I shall as soon quarrel at it as any man in England. You are afraid, if you see the bear loose, are you not?
Anne: Ay, indeed, sir.
Slender: That’s meat and drink to me, now: I have seen Sackerson loose twenty times, and have taken him by the chain; but, I warrant you, the women have so cried and shrieked at it, that it passed: but women, indeed, cannot abide ’em; they are very ill-favoured rough things.
It would be nice to think Shakespeare had the bears of Southward in mind when he penned one of his most famous stage directions “Exit, pursued by a bear” in A Winter’s Tale.

Aside from mentions in plays and the general shape of the performance venue, bear-baiting and the Elizabethan theatre crossed over in several areas. Philip Henslowe, who built and owned The Rose theatre (the third of the permanent playhouses erected in London, and the first in Bankside) also dabbled in bearbaiting from 1594 onwards. In 1604 Henslowe purchased the position of “Master of Her Majesty’s Game at Paris Garden” and in 1613-14, he and his partner tore down the Bear Garden and replaced it with the Hope Theatre, a dual purpose playhouse / animal-baiting venue, although it soon became used primarily for bear-baiting and never really lost it’s Bear Garden identity in the eyes of Londoners.

Bear-baiting and other animal blood sports continued as a spectacle both in London and across England (and a number of other European nations). Bear-baiting as entertainment was not without its detractors. The Puritans in particular were hostile to the entertainment, although they were equally hostile to almost all other types of recreation. Only a handful of commentators expressed revulsion at the activity. It was finally brought to a halt in London in 1655 under the munificent Lord Protector Oliver Cromwell.

Oliver Cromwell
by Samuel Cooper
Cromwell’s appointed “Major-Generals” were instructed to “encourage and promote godliness and virtue” in their roles. As a result, Colonel Thomas Pride raided the Bear Garden at Bankside, personally killing all the bears and ordering his troops to wring the necks of the gamecocks across London. This was in addition to shuttering the theatres, closing ale houses and generally working to surpass “mirths and jollities” across the nation.

One prominent critic mused that the bear-baiting was ended by Cromwell, but not because of the vicious cruelties inflicted on the bears and the dogs, but rather because it gave to much pleasure to the spectators.

The ban on animal baiting of all types was a short-lived one, as it resumed with the Restoration. Samuel Pepys famously recorded a visit to the Bear Garden / Hope Theatre in 1666 deeming it "a rude and nasty pleasure." The last animal baiting recorded at the Bear Garden was in 1682. Bear-baiting, bull-baiting and other activities, though they waned in popularity in the 17th century, were finally ended and utterly banned in 1835 with the timely passage of the Cruelty to Animals Act.

The Bear Garden is commemorated now with a long narrow lane named for it, running towards Bankside and the Thames River, a block from the reconstructed Globe Theatre.

No bears are now in evidence.

Sources:
Elizabeth’s London: Everyday Life in Elizabethan London, Liza Picard. Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 2003
The Time Traveler's Guide to Medieval England: A Handbook for Visitors to the Fourteenth Century, Ian Mortimer, Touchstone Press, 2011
The Elizabethan Underworld, Gamini Salgado. Sutton Publishing, 2005
Rebellion: The History of England from James I to the Glorious Revolution, Peter Ackroyd. Thomas Dunne Books, 2014

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean Hamilton was born in Winnipeg, Manitoba. He spent the first half of his childhood chasing around the prairies and western Canada before relocating to Toronto, Ontario. He has three degrees (BA, MA & MBA), reads an unhealthy amount of history, works as a marketing professional by day and prowls the imaginary alleyways of the Elizabethan era in his off-hours. Much of his winter is spent hanging around hockey arenas and shouting at referees.

He is married with a son, a dog, four cats and a turtle named Tortuga. The Jesuit Letter is his first novel of a planned series The Tyburn Folios.

Blog
Twitter: @Tyburn__Tree
Facebook

Books:
The Jesuit Letter 
Ex-soldier turned play-actor Christopher Tyburn thought he had left bloodshed and violence behind him when he abandoned the war against the Spanish in Flanders, but fate has different and far bloodier plans waiting.
When Tyburn accidentally intercepts a coded latter from a hidden Jesuit priest in Warwickshire, he is entangled in a murderous and deadly conspiracy. Stalked by unknown enemies, he must race to uncover the conspiracy and hunt down the Jesuit to clear his name. . . or die a traitor's death. His only hope – an eleven-year old glover’s son named William Shakespeare.

Black Dog (novella)




Friday, September 4, 2015

A Player's Walk through Elizabethan Theatre

by Dean Hamilton

What were Elizabethan theatres really like?

It seems strange, but the boisterous, bustling, familiar precincts of London that Shakespeare trod have mostly vanished from sight. The Great Fire that devastated London in 1666 swept the core of the City into ash and ruin. Almost every building or church of note that lay west of the Tower, with the exceptions of the areas around Bishopsgate and Aldgate, were laid to waste. From the Tower to the Fleet, Tudor London was mostly devastation. The London we see today was built on its bones.

To understand the London of the playing troupes, you must first seek the roots of the city, the ebb and flow of its tides, particularly the torrent of change that was engulfing it throughout the reign of the Tudors....and what London meant for players, playwrights and theatre.

Rooted in commerce & trade, fed by the river Thames, inculcated with a sense of purpose and centrality and commercial drive, London was the dominant metropolis of Britain. 400 years later Disraeli coined it well when he described the City as "that great cesspool into which all the loungers of the Empire are irresistibly drained”.

Prior to the 15th century London had not been a large or overly populous city in a thousand years. London in the Tudor era had a dense, noisome population estimated between 160,000 and 200,000 people, all crammed into a few square miles of buildings. This density of population achieved during the Tudor era opened up the opportunity for a more robust and permanent situated forms of entertainment rather than the opportunistic and transactional formats previously used. In short, an audience was now waiting.

Dominated by the Tower to the east and the impressive bulk of St. Paul's Cathedral to the west, London proper was surrounded by the London Wall, a protective fortification originally built by the Romans, pierced by seven gates: Ludgate, Newgate, Aldersgate, Cripplegate, Bishopsgate, Aldgate and Moorgate. Suburbs spilled out along major roadways and gates – Holburn, Smithfield, Shoreditch, Aldgate and, most infamously, Southwark which sprawled along the Thames at the southern end of London Bridge.

The suburbs were crucial to the development of London theatre because they were outside the jurisdiction of the London Court of Aldermen that governed the city. Plays were widely considered to be immoral, degenerate and depraved. This is partially due to their roots in the traditional Catholic “mystery cycles”, a series of religious moral motifs and pageants held in many market towns on religious holidays and feast days. These performances were decried by many ardent Protestant supporters and were banned in 1534, although they continued in many rural locations for many years after. London’s Court of Aldermen in the Elizabethan era was of a notoriously Puritan bent. The immorality and sinfulness of theatrical entertainment would continue to be a Puritan rallying cry until all the London theatres were finally closed and banned in 1642.

Plays were widely seen as being potential flashpoints for plague, crime, riots and political or religious dissent. Closures of inn yards and playing houses were frequent. It was the banning of inn yard performances in London in 1572 and the subsequent “banning” of actors in 1575 that spurred the eventual development of the first permanent theatres.

Sir John Spencer, Lord Mayor of London in 1594 described the theatres as "places of meeting for all vagrant persons and maisterles men that hang about the Citie, theeves, horsestealers, whoremoongers, coozeners, connycatching persones, practizers of treason and other such lyke."

Philip Stubbs, author of Anatomie of Abuses published in 1583, was one of the more ardent critics of playgoing:“if you will learn to condemn God and all his laws, to care neither for heaven nor hell, and to commit all kind of sin and mischief, you need to go to no other school, for all these good examples may you see panted before your eyes in interludes and plays.”

Even Anthony Munday, an actor, playwright and sometime provocateur who informed on the Catholic exile community, had little good to say about London’s theatres, describing them as having "no want of young ruffians, nor lack of harlots utterly past all shame, who press to the fore-front of the scaffolds to the end to show their impudency and to be as an object to all men's eyes".

The first permanent theatre in London was The Theatre, which opened in Shoreditch in 1576 on property from the dissolved Holywell priory. Several previous attempts at creating a permanent theatre (notably The Red Lion, which was a converted farm, located in Whitechapel) had foundered. The Theatre, built by James Burbage and John Brayne, was a polygonal timber and plaster building, with three high inward-facing galleries surrounding a yard with a stage, a design that borrowed heavily from both the general architectural design of inn yards and more established bearbaiting rings. By 1577, a second theatre had opened nearby, The Curtain, similar in design.

The Swan
By 1587, the Rose Theatre, the first of a number of newer playhouses, had sprouted up in Southwark. It was followed by the Swan and, most famously, by the Globe, which was constructed partially out of the disassembly of The Theatre when a property dispute arose and forced the shareholders to move.

Southwark was a particularly opportune locale for the playhouses. The area lay outside of London proper, yet was easily accessible to playgoers via London Bridge or a quick boat-ride across the Thames. Southwark was a notorious collection of inns, gaming houses, brothels, bear-baiting and, of course, theatre. The majority of the land fell under the ownership and ecclesiastical authority of the Bishop of Winchester, making one of London’s most powerful figures the nominal landlord for the dense, vice-ridden, pox-infested stews and brothels that lay at the southern end of London Bridge. “Wincester geese” was a nickname for the whores that plied their trade in Southwark.

The Globe's interior
At its height, London had almost a dozen playhouses and inn yards actively performing. Playgoing was a broad and common entertainment with each theatre showing an estimated twenty to thirty plays per year. For example, The Lord Admiral’s Men performed 38 plays in 1594-95. The Globe was estimated to hold almost 2,000 people per performance, so the economic scale of the theatre industry in Elizabethan London was considerable. Additional private performances for the Queen, the Court, leading nobility and wealthy merchants were also common. Elizabethan theatre was a great leveler within society, in the sense that it was popular and frequently enjoyed by a wide range of social classes and peoples.

Performances were daytime activities, running six days a week except on religious holidays or when forced to shut down due to plague. Playgoers had the option of gallery seating or to stand in the open yard with the “groundlings”. Wealthier attendees could reserve a gallery box or even a choice seat onstage. Crowds were dense, noisy and often impatient, with catcalls and shouts at the play-actors being a common motif. The theatres had a reputation for pickpockets, lewd behavior (with prostitutes sometimes working the audience) and thievery. As with today’s multiplexes, snacks were available, in the form of hawkers selling apples, nuts, beer, ale, and oranges to attendees.

Plays themselves had evolved from the moralizing, scripture-based mystery cycles into a much more robust secular content focused on historical and moral themes. Tragedies and comedies were also popular. Popular staples could be repeated and resurrected, however the majority of the plays being performed were often new. 21 out of the 38 plays The Lord Admiral’s Men performed in 1594-95 were new plays. They rarely performed the same plays in a row.

Playing companies varied in size and capabilities, depending on their patronage and connections. Patronage of the nobility was a necessity. Play-actors were generally regarded as slightly lower than vagabonds, and performers without the protections and permissions that came from patronage soon found themselves in difficulty. The death of patrons, shifting allegiances and politics often threw things askew. The Admiral’s Men eventually became Prince Henry’s Men, while the Lord Chamberlain’s Men evolved into the King’s Men with the advent of King James I.

Most troupes consisted of sharers - players with an ownership stake in either the theatre or the troupe - and hired actors, who may have had longer term roles as permanent members or on a for-hire basis. Given the frequent turnover of plays, the workload around mastering lines for actors must have been tremendous. Women were not permitted to perform in plays until 1660, so female roles were performed by male actors, often younger boys.

Likely William Shakespeare
It has been noted that the while the Renaissance in Italy was expressed in art, the Renaissance in England found its true expression and greatness in the literary explosion of the theatre. This article has provided only the briefest of overviews of the extent of Elizabethan theatre, I recommend you read on!

“As in a theatre, the eyes of men, After a well-graced actor leaves the stage, Are idly bent on him that enters next…” – William Shakespeare, Richard II

For more information I recommend the following:

Elizabeth’s London: Everyday Life in Elizabethan London, Liza Picard. Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 2003
Shakespeare: The Biography, Peter Ackroyd. Chatto & Windus, 2005
Shakespeare’s England: Life in Elizabethan & Jacobean Times, R.E. Pritchard, Editor. Sutton Publishing, 1999
Soul of the Age: A Biography of the Mind of William Shakespeare, Jonathan Bate. Random House, 2009
The Time Traveler's Guide to Medieval England: A Handbook for Visitors to the Fourteenth Century, Ian Mortimer, Touchstone Press, 2011
Will in the World: How Shakespeare Became Shakespeare, Stephen Greenblatt. W.M Norton & Co. 2004

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Dean Hamilton was born in Winnipeg, Manitoba. He spent the first half of his childhood chasing around the prairies and western Canada before relocating to Toronto, Ontario. He has three degrees (BA, MA & MBA), reads an unhealthy amount of history, works as a marketing professional by day and prowls the imaginary alleyways of the Elizabethan era in his off-hours. Much of his winter is spent hanging around hockey arenas and shouting at referees.

He is married with a son, a dog, four cats and a turtle named Tortuga. THE JESUIT LETTER is his first novel of a planned series THE TYBURN FOLIOS.

Books: THE JESUIT LETTER
BLACK DOG (novella)
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THE JESUIT LETTER: Ex-soldier turned play-actor Christopher Tyburn thought he had left bloodshed and violence behind him when he abandoned the war against the Spanish in Flanders, but fate has different and far bloodier plans waiting.

When Tyburn accidentally intercepts a coded latter from a hidden Jesuit priest in Warwickshire, he is entangled in a murderous and deadly conspiracy. Stalked by unknown enemies, he must race to uncover the conspiracy and hunt down the Jesuit to clear his name. . . or die a traitor's death.

BLACK DOG: London, 1574. Hangings were always a good draw. When the Earl of Worcester’s Men take advantage of the crowds drawn to a mass execution, they hoped for a strong turn-out and a fat payday. They didn’t expect to run afoul of London’s most notorious prison rooker, the Black Dog. Now with one of the troupe facing slow death in gaol or penury in the face of the Black Dog’s threats, the troupe must turn to its newest member for help. Christopher Tyburn, ex-soldier turned play-actor, must dive into cesspool of London’s back-alleys, pursuing the Black Dog’s secrets in order to turn the tables on the deadly blackmailer.

But you don’t stalk the Black Dog without consequences….