The Globe Theatre.
Originally published in Howitt's Journal (William & Mary Howitt) vol.1 #9 (27 Feb 1847).
Dear Howitt, Westminster, Feb. 10.
This morning I set out to seek for the site of the Globe Theatre. Three years ago, I often passed through this neighbourhood with some literary friends. We went along Bankside, Clink Street (or the tangling alleys), and by St. Saviour's, We crossed the top of an alley which always brought out an exclamation, "There's Shakspere's Alley," or "the old Globe Alley," or "here's whereabouts the old Globe Theatre stood;" I am sure it was before passing under the Southwark Bridge and the old dead-wall of Winchester palace, (by Phœnix Wharf,) a little beyond. I find the alley by the Bridge-foot is "Rose Alley," so an old woman said it had been for thirty years. The Rose and Bell is at the corner, and the landlord knew nothing about it. There is no Globe Alley there now, and the Maid Lane of 1825 is now New Park Street. A coal porter said that a dozen years ago New Park Street was called Maiden Lane. Not finding any relics of the Globe, I thought I would look out for the Bear Garden, as that would be a clue to the true whereabouts. I soon found "Bear Garden Wharf," and a sort of alley called "Bear Garden." The distances measured in steps are as follows:—From Southwark Bridge arch to Rose Alley, 23 yards; from Rose Alley to "Bear Garden," 24 yards.
I then went on to St. Saviour's, and had a search there for a Globe Alley or Maiden Lane. As inquiries elicited nothing, I made use of my eyes, and soon came upon a "Globe Inn" by the Borough Market, just where Church Street curves into York Street. This public-house is at the corner of a court which leads direct up the London Bridge steps, and is in fact at the back of the block of houses in Borough High Street (I am particular, to prevent mistakes), just past St. Saviour's. Who would believe that Shakspere's Theatre hobnobbed with London Bridge! Yet here it is that the critic planted his hexagon building. When I saw this court, which is not "a long and narrow alley," I said, Can this be Globe Alley? it has no name written up. I went into the Globe public-house, as probably the critic did before me, and a conversation ensued tween myself and the landlord.
Myself. "What is the name of this court?"
Landlord. "Green Dragon Court, that's the name! It's where Shakspere wrote all his plays."
Myself. "I see your house is called the Globe; Is there a Globe Alley hereabouts?"
Landlord. "Why some folks call this court Globe Alley; but its proper name is Green Dragon Court. It's no alley at all."
Myself. "And so Shakspere lived there."
Landlord. "Yes, and the Globe Theatre was burnt down there."
Landlady. "That was a long time ago,—in Henry the Eighth's days."
Myself. "Well, I didn't think that Globe Alley was so near London Bridge; it must have stood in the road from old London Bridge, if this be really the true old Globe Alley."
Landlord. "Globe Alley! Oh, bless you! Globe Alley's on the Bankside, by Southwark Bridge, or it used to be as I know; but this is where they say the Theatre was burnt down, and Shakspere wrote his plays. But they call this Globe Alley 'cause it's by this house—it's Green Dragon Court, though, properly."
Further inquiry led me to suspect that this Globe public-house was originally the Green Dragon, and that calling it the Globe was the clever thought of some landlord who knew there was one Will Shakspere, and a Globe Theatre; and as no one could be sure of the site of the latter, it might as well be in Green Dragon Court as anywhere else. As for "Maiden Lane close to London Bridge," no one ever heard of it.
Now for a third site, between yours and the critic's in Barclay's Brewery. The critic has had a confused idea of Globe Alley, said to be embraced within the walls of the brewery, of a Maiden Lane contiguous, of a Globe Inn by St. Saviour's, and of a passage close by, and has jumbled them all together. Barclay's Brewery extents from the land arches of Southwark, to a great distance eastward, and chiefly to the south of New Park Street (once Maiden Lane). The tradition is, that a part of the Brewery stands on the site of the Globe Theatre; but I am pretty sure that could not be, as that would remove it altogether from Bankside. In Strype's Stow, we find that so late as 1720 Maiden Lane, of which Globe Alley was an off-shoot, was a long straggling place, with ditches on each side. I contend that this off-shoot must have gone northward towards Bankside, and not southward, and that it was a little to the west of Southwark Bridge foot (close to Rose Alley, if indeed that be not the very alley itself), and not east of Bridge Street. I think it probable that Rose Alley is a modern name, One thing is certain, the Athenæum is wrong. Barclay's Brewery and St. Saviour's Church are not yet arm in arm.
I am, dear Howitt,
Yours faithfully.
Dear Sir, Feb. 15, 1847.
I have twice taken up pen and paper to write to you, but each time abstained, as I really was unwilling to intrude my opinion in a matter with which I have nothing to do. Third thoughts, however, have determined me to write.
Certain parties, with no uncertain views, have made your new work the subject of the grossest attacks. I have been connected with the press for twenty years and more, and never knew anything of the sort carried on until now, in such a trenchant, personal, and (I must say) discreditable manner. I have been induced, in consequence of those attacks, to read the two volumes through. I don't think there ever was a pleasenter work to read—or a work, the kindly feeling of which was so marked. It has increased my knowledge of literary men very greatly; given me, in many cases, a key to certain obscure passages in their lives and writings. And I think it a very honest book—not concealing the truth, when the truth should be spoken, nor, exaggerating it, in any manner.
You will act most unfairly towards the public, and the reading public in particular, if you are frightened from giving us a second series of this work. A few clerical errors, and a few actual errors—the result, I conjecture, of your trusting a good deal to memory—cannot destroy the character of a very delightful, and much required work.
Yours faithfully, etc.
Here we altogether leave the subject. We have exposed the malicious system of literary burking of the Athenæum, and that for the present suffices us. We are obliged by the earnest zeal of our friendly correspondents, whose numerous letters, if we could print them, with name and address, would be a most triumphant reproof to the critic, and we now restore the pages of our Journal to their legitimate and more agreeable purposes.