The Sun.
London, England, 1858-03-31 00:00:00

have •Itfot
,-hieh the coqtpctit:l,,u shonl.4-be
and tie I.f,ndon anti North-‘,Y,istern have decheed to
accept their award.
" G. H. PA('ICE, Grk.-q Northern Vice-ChairTan.
"GEORGE GA VIBI,E, I‘Cinebezter,
arvi ay.

THE i‘:EW OPERA-Hi)USE,

COVENT-GARDEN.

The now Opera-house, now in the act of being
built, is to be opened next May with a graud opera!
" I heard a trowel tick against a brick,
" I looked me up, and straight a parapet
" Uprose at least six inches o'er the planks,"

says Coleridge's address ' • but what would the poet
have said or sung could he have marked the rapidity
with which the new theatre has sprung into exist-
ence ? It is scarcely more than a few weeks since
the labourers were at work clearing away the ruins
of the old building, and now the new one is fast
approaching completion.
This is the third time that the finest theatre in
England has been built upon the same spot—once,
as its gaunt, dingy houses testify even to the present
day, the very centre of London wealth and fashion.
The first was builtand opened in 1732 by Harlequin
Rich, of Beggars' Opera fame, who had given up
his little theatre in Lincolu's-inn-fielda when his
company lost its chief attraction, Lavinia Fenton
—the original Polly Peachum—who quitted the
stage to become Duchess of Bolton. Though
miserably inferior to the late edifice, the building
was long regarded as the first of its kind in Europe,
and, beyond a doubt, the best in Eugland. It,
however, shared the fate which, sooner or later,
overtakes all theatres, and was burnt to the ground
in 1808, Ilandel's fine organ, and the still finer
stock of wine of the Beef-steak Club, being de-
stroyed with it. The foundation stone of the next
theatre, which was built for the liembles, was laid
by the then Prince of Wales in 1808, and opened
in 1809 at the advanced prices, which brought
about the celebrated " 0. P. riots. All our readers
are aware of the extent and lit.auty of that edifice,
and of its total destruction by fire so recently, and
under such peculiar circumstances. nil full ex--
tent of the loss which the operatic world sustained
by that calamity will probably never be fully
known, for even to the present time each day brings
to light fresh proofs of the almost irreparable
nature of the injury—an injury so complete that
not a single article was saved from the finest ward-
robe and armoury, the finest musical and dramatic
library, that ever belonged to any operatic estab-
lishment in the world. Every one knows how
little hope was at first entertained that another
great theatre would be built for the same manager,
and the same purpose, and until the last few
months no outward sign was given that such an
idea was in contemplation. Since that time, how-
ever, Mr. Barry, the architect, has been busy.
Messrs. Lucas, the contractors, have been engaged,
and almost simultaneously with the removal of the
ruins of the old house the walls of the new began
to rise, and have continued mounting upwards
with all the rapidity of colonial enterprise, till now,
almost within six months from its commencement,
the actuarstructure is finished, and being roofed ir.
The theatre is announced to open on the 15th of
May next, with one of the grandest of those great
operas the production of which hasspread the lame
of the Covent-garden management wherever music
is known and cultivated. A mere visitor to the
new building, however, finds his credulity severely
taxed by this announcement ; for, though, possibly,
it may take place on the appointed day, yet bust-
ing to the evidence of his senses, he would be rather
inclißed to disbelieve the oaths of all the architects
ever sworn that the house can beready even within
the year.

Opened, however, OR the 15th of May it is
announced to be, and opened, too, complete, at
least as regards that part of the house with which
the audience is concerned. Much, however, will,
at any rate, remain to be done, especially behind
the scenes ; and the manager can say, in the words
of Johnson's imitators iu Rejected Addresses, "Of
that part behind the curtain which has not yet
been destined to glow beneath the brush of the
varnisher, or vibrate to the hammer of the carpen-
ter, little is thought by the public, and little need
be said by the committee. Truth, however, is not

to be sacrificed for the accommodation of either,
and he who should pronounce that the edifice has
received its final embellishment would be dissemi-
nating falsehood without incurring favour, and
risking the disgrace of detection without participat-
ing the advantages of success."
Outside the building there is such a wilderness
of ropes and scaffolding that it is rather difficult to
see what is done or what remains to do ; while
within the walls, where all is in truth rapidly ap-
proaching completion, it appears to the inexperienced
eye as if nothing had been effected. It is a curious
place inside ; a mere gigantic shell of raw brick
walls, which, apparently without support, tower
a hundred feet above you, where the roof, between
the tremendous iron girders, is only being
put on, and where a scaffolding, swinging in
mid air, like a huge spider's web, is hung to
the girders with ropes, and allows the work-
men at that dizzy height already to prepare the
ceiling. The place is full of carts and barrows—
loads of bricks coming in, loads of rubbish going
out ; the clang of iron is incessant and the air thick
with dust, for in every place where men can get a
footing the work is going ou inside and out. That
curious arched frame of wood hanging in the cen'ra
of the great space by ropes, and looking for all the
world like a colossal gibbet, is the skeleton of the
proscenium, 52 feet broad by 42 high—the all-im-
portant space through which the scenic glories of
Grieve and Telbin are to be displayed, the area
which is the world of fame to future prime donne.
The spot where all the carters are at work shovel-
ling out great loads of gravel is the site of Fop's-
alley, and those curious iron frames which, bestrid
by dusty labourers and echoing like thunder under
the blows of hammers, are rising up the great. semi-
circle of walls facing the stage, are the tiers of boxes
which, six weeks hence, will be occupied by the
proudest of England's wealth and beauty, and only
echo back the strains of Bosio or Grisi. Thus there is
little in the present aspect of the interior to denote
precisely the uses to which everything is to be put
hereafter ; so we learn with surprise that the
ground from which all these things are seen is some
10 feet below the floor of the pit ; that the great
holes in the stage walls are the scene docks into
which canvass cottages and marble halls are alike
stowed away when not in use ; that the brickwork
semicircle above the boxes is the amphitheatre, the
one above that the gallery ; and that the iron gir-
ders above the stage are to support the floor of the
painting-room, and serve as places on which to
suspend impetuous waterfalls or practicable
bridges, or hung aloft to which the slender cory-
phee may "pose" her limbs with all the grace
required for the finale to the ballet. The brick
arches round underneath the pit are to carry
the floor and to be used as store rooms.
The wooden frameworks at the four corners of
the house mark the place where the dome shaped
ceiling springs, and the wide opening in the iron-
work near the stage on the right, the site of the
Royal box. But these and a hundred other pur-
poses besides are but dimly shadowed forth, and the
whole scene of the interior only recalls the lines in
which the brothers Smith make Scott describe the
rebuilding of the great rival house, Drury-lane :
" Didst mark how toiled the busy train,
Ropes rose and sank and rose again,
And nimble workmen trod,
To realise bold Wyatt's plan
ltush'd many a howling Irishman.
Loud clatter'd many a porter can,
And many a ragamuffin clan
With trowel and with hod."

The Opera-house, as it now stands, is externally
one huge structure nearly 100 feet high by 122 feet
broad, and no less than 240 feet long, about one-
fifth larger than the late theatre, and about the
same size as the celebrated La Scala of Milan,
hitherto the largest in the world. The four outer
walls of the building, of course, have to carry every-
thing, and, in order to make them of the requisite
strength and lightnesi, they are constructed on the
cellular principle, which is now in different ways
getting so much into vogue in works of great
strength. Each of the four walls is apparently
about 24 feet thick, though it is in reality com-
posed of two walls, the outer of three feet and the
inner two feet, with transverse walls also two feet
thick at intervals of 20 feet apart, and running up
between them from top to bottom. These, with
wrought-iron tie rods holding both inner and outer
walls together, give immense strength and light-
ness to the whole. The roof proper, if we may so
call it, as distinct from the rich ceiling which is
seen by the audience, is a beautiful specimen of
constructive skill, being at once fire-proof, roomy,
light, and of the most enormous strength. It is
composed of nine great lattice girders of wrought-
iron,
each of which is 90 feet long by 18 inches
broad, and 9 fact a inches deep. These, each
of them
between
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between each pair of girders are spacious
feet long by 20 wide, and about 14 high, whicTharse to be used as carpenters' workshops, storeroom,
&c. It is no slight credit to Mr. Barry that he was
able
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it
thies
equally
summit
to Mr. Lucas that his walls withstood
without a symptom of weakness so trying a strain.
To these girders will be hung the ornamental dome-
shaped ceiling, which in white and gold will be