“CITY OF LONDON THEATRE, Shoreditch; principally for melodramas” (212).

“CITY OF LONDON THEATRE, Norton Folgate .Erected in 1837, from designs by Mr. Samuel Beazley. Lessees Mr. Johnson and Mr. Nelson Lee” (129).

Gives the theatre’s capacity (in 1866) as 1400 (789)

The information provided within this source is similar to that given within London in all its Glory, also published by H.G. Clarke, & Co.

“City of London. – Never has the drama been desecrated and prostituted to such vile purposes, as at this worse than barn. To criticize the performances is impossible, for they are beneath its test, although we could with the greatest facility describe the plot, characters and incidents of some desperate row that nightly takes places in this classical arena; or comment on the wit, verbal and practical, of bricklayer’s labourers, Lucifer-match vendors, fish-fags, and retailers of sheep’s trotters. We could also relate the humours of gin-drinking (in the boxes), and the scenes of head-breaking resulting therefrom and criticize the vocal and instrumental performances that take place ad libitum in the pit and gallery, which are filled with old and young ragamuffins, who, for a time, forget their own concerns, and listen in dull delight to the passing scene. On arriving at the doors of the theatre – Heaven save the mark! – you are saluted by an iterant vendor of galvanic rings, surrounding by a crowd of shoeless boys and girls, who will, as he informs them, upon the purchase of a penny galvanic ring, be presented gratis with an order of [admission to the theatre]. […] By this system it may be readily imagined what a den of vice and depravity this place exhibits […]”

“City of London. – One feels the same sensation on entering this theatre as one does in an ice-house. A glance at the chilly unpopulated pit makes us shiver from top to toe. The boxes were occupied – not filled – by a few fellows in fustian coats; women in stuff gowns, and squabby urchins, whose paws had evidently been within an hour or so paddling in the kennel. The managers appear to have no decent connections; even their orders seem to be at a discount, and the better sort of folks in the classical locality of Long-alley and Finsbury-market palpably scout them. There was not so much as one good-looking, ruby-gilled butcher from that elite neigbourhood [sic] present. The house has become a dead-letter. At first, the manager conceived it [sic] policy to enter the lists with the Standard theatre when the equestrian season commenced there, and engaged three horses […] This, of course, was a failure […] Mr. E. F. Saville was next put in requisition as ‘the prop whereby to sustain the house.’ Although a meritorious actor and a deserved favourite, Mr. Saville, alone and unsupported, cannot carry on the siege, particularly against so formidable a foe as the rival establishment of Messrs. Johnson and Lee, which, from the judicious management and spirited enterprise displayed by its proprietors, is ‘gaining golden opinions from al sorts of people.’ Jack Sheppard has been attempted, but even that great and masterly production only succeeded in drawing two jacketless boys to the six-penny gallery. The house is quite deserted […].