THE Manor of Paris Garden,[241] situated on the Bankside just to the west of the Liberty of the Clink and to the east of the Lambeth marshes, had once been in the possession of the Monastery of Bermondsey. At the dissolution of the monasteries by Henry VIII, the property passed into the possession of the Crown; hence it was free from the jurisdiction of the Lord Mayor and Aldermen of London, and was on this account suitable for the erection of a playhouse. From the Crown the property passed through several hands, until finally, in 1589, the entire "lordship and manor of Paris Garden" was sold for £850 to Francis Langley, goldsmith and citizen of London.[242]

Langley had purchased the Manor as an investment, and was ready to make thereon such improvements as seemed to offer profitable returns. Burbage and Henslowe were reputed to be growing wealthy from their playhouses, and Langley was tempted to erect a similar building on his newly acquired property. Accordingly at some date before November, 1594, he secured a license to erect a theatre in Paris Garden. The license was promptly opposed by the Lord Mayor of London, who addressed to the Lord High Treasurer on November 3, 1594, the following letter:

The protest of the Lord Mayor, however, went unheeded, and Langley proceeded with the erection of his building. Presumably it was finished and ready for the actors in the earlier half of 1595.

THE MANOR OF PARIS GARDEN AND THE SWAN

A survey executed in 1627 by royal command.

(Printed from Rendle's The Bankside.)

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The name given to the new playhouse was "The Swan." What caused Langley to adopt this name we do not know;[244] but we may suppose that it was suggested to him by the large number of swans which beautified the Thames. Foreigners on their first visit to London were usually very much impressed by the number and the beauty of these birds. Hentzner, in 1598, stated that the river "abounds in swans, swimming in flocks; the sight of them and their noise is vastly agreeable to the boats that meet them in their course"; and the Italian Francesco Ferretti observed that the "broad river of Thames" was "most charming, and quite full of swans white as the very snow."[245]

From a map of the Manor of Paris Garden carefully surveyed by order of the King in 1627[246] (see page 163), we learn the exact situation of the building. It was set twenty-six poles, or four hundred and twenty-six feet, from the bank of the river, in that corner of the estate nearest London Bridge. Most of the playgoers from London, however, came not over the Bridge, but by water, landing at the Paris Garden Stairs, or at the near-by Falcon Stairs, and then walking the short distance to the theatre.

THE SWAN PLAYHOUSE

(From Visscher's View of London, 1616).

An excellent picture of the exterior of the Swan is furnished by Visscher's View of London, 1616, (see page 165). From this, as well as from the survey of 1627 just mentioned, we discover that the building was duodecahedral—at least on the outside, for the interior probably was circular. At the time of its erection it was, so we are told, "the largest and the most magnificent playhouse" in London. It contained three galleries surrounding an open pit, with a stage projecting into the pit; and probably it differed in no essential respect from the playhouses already built. In one point, however, it may have differed—although of this I cannot feel sure: it may have been provided with a stage that could be removed so as to allow the building to be used on occasions for animal-baiting. The De Witt drawing shows such a stage; and possibly Stow in his Survey (1598) gives evidence that the Swan was in early times employed for bear-baiting:

Moreover, in 1613 Henslowe used the Swan as the model for the Hope, a building designed for both acting and animal-baiting. It should be noted, however, that in all documents the Swan is invariably referred to as a playhouse, and there is no evidence—beyond that cited above—to indicate that the building was ever employed for the baiting of bears and bulls.

In the summer of 1596 a Dutch traveler named Johannes de Witt, a priest of St. Mary's in Utrecht, visited London, and saw, as one of the most interesting sights of the city, a dramatic performance at the Swan. Later he communicated a description of the building to his friend Arend van Buchell,[248] who recorded the description in his commonplace-book, along with a crude and inexact drawing of the interior (see page 169), showing the stage, the three galleries, and the pit.[249] The description is headed: "Ex Observationibus Londinensibus Johannis de Witt." After a brief notice of St. Paul's, and a briefer reference to Westminster Cathedral, the traveler begins to describe what obviously interested him far more. I give below a translation of that portion relating to the playhouses:

Exactly when the Swan was opened to the public, or what troupes of actors first made use of it, we do not know. The visit of Johannes de Witt, however, shows that the playhouse was occupied in 1596; and this fact is confirmed by a statement in the lawsuit of Shaw v. Langley.[254] We may reasonably suppose that not only in 1596, but also in 1595 the building was used by the players.

THE INTERIOR OF THE SWAN PLAYHOUSE

Sketched by Johannes de Witt in 1596.

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Our definite history of the Swan, however, begins with 1597. In February of that year eight distinguished actors, among whom were Robert Shaw, Richard Jones, Gabriel Spencer, William Bird, and Thomas Downton, "servants to the right honorable the Earl of Pembroke," entered into negotiations with Langley, or, as the legal document puts it, "fell into conference with the said Langley for and about the hireing and taking a playhouse of the said Langley, situate in the old Paris Garden, in the Parish of St. Saviours, in the County of Surrey, commonly called and known by the name of the sign of the Swan." The result of this conference was that the members of Pembroke's Company[255] became each severally bound for the sum of £100 to play at the Swan for one year, beginning on February 21, 1597.

This troupe contained some of the best actors in London; and Langley, in anticipation of a successful year, "disbursed and laid out for making of the said house ready, and providing of apparel fit and necessary for their playing, the sum of £300 and upwards." Since he was at very little cost in making the Swan ready, "for the said house was then lately afore used to have plays in it," most of this sum went for the purchase of "sundry sort of rich attire and apparel for them to play withall."

Everything seems to have gone well until near the end of July, when the company presented The Isle of Dogs, a satirical play written in part by the "young Juvenal" of the age, Thomas Nashe, and in part by certain "inferior players," chief of whom seems to have been Ben Jonson.[256] The play apparently attacked under a thin disguise some persons high in authority. The exact nature of the offense cannot now be determined, but Nashe himself informs us that "the troublesome stir which happened about it is a general rumour that hath filled all England,"[257] and the Queen herself seems to have been greatly angered. On July 28, 1597, the Privy Council sent a letter to the Justices of Middlesex and of Surrey informing them that Her Majesty "hath given direction that not only no plays shall be used within London or about the city or in any public place during this time of summer, but that also those playhouses that are erected and built only for such purposes shall be plucked down." Accordingly the Council ordered the Justices to see to it that "there be no more plays used in any public place within three miles of the city until Allhallows [i.e., November 1] next"; and, furthermore, to send for the owners of the various playhouses "and enjoin them by vertue hereof forthwith to pluck down quite the stages, galleries, and rooms that are made for people to stand in, and so to deface the same as they may not be employed again to such use."[258]

The Council, however, did not stop with this. It ordered the arrest of the authors of the play and also of the chief actors who took part in its performance. Nashe saved himself by precipitate flight, but his lodgings were searched and his private papers were turned over to the authorities. Robert Shaw and Gabriel Spencer, as leaders of the troupe, and Ben Jonson, as one of the "inferior players" who had a part in writing the play,[259] were thrown into prison. The rest of the company hurried into the country, their speed being indicated by the fact that we find them acting in Bristol before the end of July.

Some of these events are referred to in the following letter, addressed by the Privy Council "to Richard Topclyfe, Thomas Fowler, and Richard Skevington, esquires, Doctor Fletcher, and Mr. Wilbraham":

This unfortunate occurrence destroyed Langley's dream of a successful year. It also destroyed the splendid Pembroke organization, for several of its chief members, even before the inhibition was raised, joined the Admiral's Men. On August 6 Richard Jones went to Henslowe and bound himself to play for two years at the Rose, and at the same time he bound his friend Robert Shaw, who was still in prison; on August 10 William Bird came and made a similar agreement; on October 6 Thomas Downton did likewise. Their leader, Gabriel Spencer, also probably had an understanding with Henslowe, although he signed no bond; and upon his release from the Marshalsea he joined his friends at the Rose.[263]

In the meantime the Queen's anger was abating, and the trouble was blowing over. The order to pluck down all the public playhouses was not taken seriously by the officers of the law, and Henslowe actually secured permission to reopen the Rose on October 11. The inhibition itself expired on November 1, but the Swan was singled out for further punishment. The Privy Council ordered that henceforth license should be granted to two companies only: namely, the Admiral's at the Rose, and the Chamberlain's at the Curtain. This meant, of course, the closing of the Swan.

In spite of this order, however, the members of Pembroke's Company remaining after the chief actors had joined Henslowe, taking on recruits and organizing themselves into a company, began to act at the Swan without a license. For some time they continued unmolested, but at last the two licensed companies called the attention of the Privy Council to the fact, and on February 19, 1598, the Council issued the following order to the Master of the Revels and the Justices of both Middlesex and Surrey:

Thus, after February 19, 1598, the Swan stood empty, so far as plays were concerned, and we hear very little of it during the next few years. Indeed, it never again assumed an important part in the history of the drama.

In the summer of 1598[265] it was used by Robert Wilson for a contest in extempore versification. Francis Meres, in his Palladis Tamia, writes: "And so is now our witty Wilson, who for learning and extemporall wit in this faculty is without compare or compeere, as, to his great and eternal commendations, he manifested in his challenge at the Swan on the Bankside."

On May 15, 1600, Peter Bromvill was licensed to use the Swan "to show his feats of activity at convenient times in that place without let or interruption."[266] The Privy Council in issuing the license observed that Bromvill "hath been recommended unto Her Majesty from her good brother the French King, and hath shewed some feats of great activity before Her Highness."

On June 22, 1600, the Privy Council "with one and full consent" ordered "that there shall be about the city two houses, and no more, allowed to serve for the use of the common stage plays; of the which houses, one [the Globe] shall be in Surrey ... and the other [the Fortune] in Middlesex."[267] This order in effect merely confirmed the order of 1598 which limited the companies to two, the Admiral's and the Chamberlain's.

Early in 1601 Langley died; and in January, 1602, his widow, as administratrix, sold the Manor of Paris Garden, including the Swan Playhouse, to Hugh Browker, a prothonotary of the Court of Common Pleas. The property remained in the possession of the Browker family until 1655.[268]

On November 6, 1602, the building was the scene of the famous hoax known as England's Joy, perpetrated upon the patriotic citizens of London by one Richard Vennar.[269] Vennar scattered hand-bills over the city announcing that at the Swan Playhouse, on Saturday, November 6, a company of "gentlemen and gentlewomen of account" would present with unusual magnificence a play entitled England's Joy, celebrating Queen Elizabeth. It was proposed to show the coronation of Elizabeth, the victory of the Armada, and various other events in the life of "England's Joy," with the following conclusion: "And so with music, both with voice and instruments, she is taken up into heaven; when presently appears a throne of blessed souls; and beneath, under the stage, set forth with strange fire-works, diverse black and damned souls, wonderfully described in their several torments."[270] The price of admission to the performance was to be "two shillings, or eighteen pence at least." In spite of this unusually high price, an enormous audience, including a "great store of good company and many noblemen," passed into the building. Whereupon Vennar seized the money paid for admission, and showed his victims "a fair pair of heels." The members of the audience, when they found themselves thus duped, "revenged themselves upon the hangings, curtains, chairs, stools, walls, and whatsoever came in their way, very outrageously, and made great spoil."[271]

On February 8, 1603, John Manningham recorded in his Diary: "Turner and Dun, two famous fencers, playd their prizes this day at the Bankside, but Turner at last run Dun so far in the brain at the eye, that he fell down presently stone dead; a goodly sport in a Christian state, to see one man kill another!" The place where the contest was held is not specifically mentioned, but in all probability it was the Swan.[272]

For the next eight years all is silence, but we may suppose that the building was occasionally let for special entertainments such as those just enumerated.

In 1611 Henslowe undertook to manage the Lady Elizabeth's Men, promising among other things to furnish them with a suitable playhouse. Having disposed of the Rose in 1605, he rented the Swan and established his company there. In 1613, however, he built the Hope, and transferred the Lady Elizabeth's Men thither.

The Swan seems thereafter to have been occupied for a time by Prince Charles's Men. But the history of this company and its intimate connection with the Lady Elizabeth's Company is too vague to admit of definite conclusions. So far as we can judge, the Prince's Men continued at the Swan until 1615, when Henslowe transferred them to the Hope.[273]

After 1615 the Swan was deserted for five years so far as any records show. But in 1621 the old playhouse seems to have been again used by the actors. The Overseers of the Poor in the Liberty of Paris Garden record in their Account Book: "Monday, April the 9th, 1621, received of the players £5 3s. 6d."[274] From this it is evident that in the spring of 1621 some company of players, the name of which has not yet been discovered, was occupying the Swan. Apparently, however, the company did not remain there long, for the Account Book records no payment the following year; nor, although it extends to the year 1671, does it again record any payments from actors at the Swan. There is, indeed, no evidence to connect the playhouse with dramatic performances after 1621.[275] In the map of 1627 it is represented as still standing, but is labeled "the old playhouse," and is not even named.

Five years later it is referred to in Nicolas Goodman's Holland's Leaguer (1632), a pamphlet celebrating one of the most notorious houses of ill fame on the Bankside.[276] Dona Britannica Hollandia, the proprietress of this house, is represented as having been much pleased with its situation:

This is the last that we hear of the playhouse, that was "in times past as famous as any of the other." What finally became of the building we do not know. It is not shown in Hollar's View of London, in 1647, and probably it had ceased to exist before the outbreak of the Civil War.