SAMUEL COOK, ARTIST. All 
of the Plymouth Theatre ; his execution was that of his own 
refined water colour art seen through a magnifying glass, enlarged 
without coarseness, and fitted to be seen properly only at a distance, 
as was intended. Such scenery has never since been seen inside 
our theatre. If it had a fault it was too good work for scenery, 
and when one reflects that all that fine art was doomed soon to be 
annihilated—painted over and forgotten in the exigencies of the 
scene-room, one almost regrets that such valuable time and labour 
has been lost to posterity. 
The scenes he painted for Mr. Wightwick’s play were : 
1. Meinhard’s Castle on the banks of the Danube. 
2. King Richard’s Prison-room in the Castle of Durnstein. 
3. The Tower of London. 
4, Queen Eleanor’s Audience-chamber. 
The play was first produced on Monday, 21st February, 1848. 
The King’s Prison-room scene, owing to press of time, was 
positively not begun until the evening, about two hours before it 
was needed in the first act. It will appear incredible, but Mr. 
Newcombe can vouch for the positive fact, that the canvas having 
been previously primed, that is, covered with the neutral prevailing 
tint of the scene to be painted, Cook actually painted and finished 
this scene in those two hours. Of course it was not painted with 
the care and nicety it would have received under ordinary circum- 
stances ; but to have painted it at all in a presentable form, in 
such a time, will always remain one of the wonders of the scene- 
loft of the Plymouth Theatre. 
A curious and amusing fact may be HC in connection 
with this scene. Richard the King had to escape through a 
*‘ practicable ” window, in which a bar, supposed to be of iron, had 
been inserted by the stage carpenter. Cook, with his usual poetic 
feeling, had represented this scene under the effect of moonlight, 
and had thrown a shadow of this bar across the wide embrasure of 
the window. The King had to tear away this bar to effect his 
escape, and he did so, and escaped accordingly. The bar was gone, 
and lay on the ground ; but the shadow remained as a memento of 
the excited hurry in which the scene had been painted. Probably it 
was not noticed by the audience, who, perhaps, thought more of the 
King’s escape than the artist’s escapade. We can imagine how 
Col. Smith, Wightwick, Cook, and Newcombe had a good laugh 
over this in the green-room that evening after the play. 
