Archaeologists have discovered remains of London’s earliest purpose-built theater. The site at 85 Stepney Way was being excavated in advance of development when the team discovered a rectangular timber structure 40 by 31 feet made of 144 timbers. There were postholes around it, likely left by the structural posts that sustained the gallery seating. The dimensions of the structure and the evidence of the galleries closely matches the precise descriptions of the Red Lion playhouse found in two surviving legal records from a lawsuit filed by the carpenters who built it.

The Red Lion was originally a farmhouse built in about 1500. Within a few decades it had developed into a sort of speakeasy, an unofficial drinking establishment. In 1567, John Brayne made a deal with the farm owner to build the Red Lion playhouse next to the pub. It was London’s first dedicated public theater — as opposed to a home or inn or fair where theatrical productions were staged on occasion — since Roman times.

Concessions must have been a big money-maker even back then, because ten years after he built the Red Lion, John Brayne and his brother-in-law, actor John Burbage, would go on to build The Theater in Shoreditch, the playhouse where Shakespeare’s plays were first staged. It was built on the site of St John the Baptist Priory and Brayne converted its former alehouse into a tap house for the theater.

After The Theater was constructed, the Red Lion appears to have no longer staged plays. The farmer found another use for the space: a dog-fighting venue. Archaeologists have an unearthed a sad testament to this activity: the bones of dozens of dogs, some with bite marks to their skulls and legs severe enough to be fatal. The teeth of many of the dogs had been filed down, a despicable practice that continues today in dog fighting.

In Tudor London, theatres were politically and culturally ultra-controversial ventures. Indeed, they could only be built outside the jurisdiction of the City of London – partly because the extreme Protestant puritans who often ran the City considered theatres to be “an offence to the godly”, a “hindrance to the Gospel” – and schools “for all wickedness and vice”. Theatre-goers were seen as “the worst sort” of “evil and disordered people” who skipped work “to mis-spend their time”.

In a sentiment that resonates with our own times, they also thought that crowded theatrical events were plague infection risks.

As far as is known, most or possibly all of the plays performed at the Red Lion have been lost. That is partly because many plays in Tudor times were never published in printed form. Indeed the Red Lion’s opening drama – The Story of Samson (playwright unknown) – was almost certainly never printed, possibly because London’s monopoly printing organisation (a guild known as the Stationers Company) refused to print it, potentially on the grounds that a religious topic was being over-visually portrayed.

Indeed, they had extraordinary legal powers of censorship and could even seize unsuitable publications and haul their unfortunate authors before the ecclesiastical courts.

The site was disturbed when a warehouse was built on in the 1960s, but all around the thick concrete foundation (13×10 feet) significant archaeological remains have survived. The only specifically theatre-related artifacts are large quantities of green-glazed ceramic fragments from the characteristic money boxes used to collect the price of a ticket and then smashed at the end of the performance to divvy up the spoils among the company.

A massive stone wall from a 16th century castle built by warlord Toyotomi Hideyoshi has been unearthed on the grounds of the Kyoto Imperial Palace. The remains of the wall and a filled-in moat were discovered under the foundations of the Kyoto Sento Imperial Palace, the compound within the palace complex where emperors lived after they abdicated.

One section of castle wall, constructed in a north-south direction, measures about eight meters in length. The wall measured between 1 meter and 1.6 meters high in places and was comprised of three to four stone layers. Although the upper portion had collapsed, the wall in its prime was likely around 2.4 meters high.

The techniques used to construct the castle wall likely date to the Azuchi-Momoyama Period (1568-1600) based on the careful manner in which blocks of stone were placed.

Researchers theorized that the moat was originally at least three meters wide and 2.4 meters deep.

Its age and owner were confirmed by the discovery of gold-plated roof tiles bearing Toyotomi’s crest in the fill of the moat.

Toyotomi Hideyoshi was born in 1537, the son of a peasant and infantry grunt. Orphaned at seven, Hideyoshi made his way in the world working as a servant and later as a fighter for powerful daimyō Oda Nobunaga. Within 10 years, he was one of Nobunaga’s most successful generals. Nobunaga was assassinated by enemy samurai Akechi Mitsuhide in 1582. Hideyoshi fought Mitsuhide and won, cementing his power and influence in the Oda Clan and from there quickly rising in the military and political ranks.

In 1585 he attained the positions of Chancellor of the Realm and Imperial Regent (“kanpaku”). He ruled Japan in all but name by this point, wresting province after province from their local potentates to unify the country. He built a number of castles, including the massive Osaka Castle that is today one of Japan’s most important landmarks, and the Jurakudai in Kyoto.

The palace whose remains were just found was completed in 1591, the year before Hideyoshi’s death. The current Kyoto Imperial Palace was built in 1855, but it was eighth iteration to be built on the site, a common practice as palaces were constantly burning down and getting rebuilt. Hideyoshi’s castle was adjacent to the imperial palace.

The only surviving records of this castle were written by courtiers who refer to it as “Kyoto Shinjo,” meaning “new Kyoto Castle,” so a generic term rather the actual name of the building. The scant references suggested it was relatively unremarkable, a dwelling surrounded by a defensive wall, but the archaeological remains prove otherwise. The massive wall and the gold tiles point to this having been a grand, opulent structure.

“This is the greatest discovery this century related to an excavation of a Japanese castle,” [University of Shiga Prefecture professor and castle expert Hitoshi] Nakai said.

He added that Hideyoshi likely built it so Hideyori could succeed him to the court rank of “kanpaku,” the title for an individual who served as chief adviser to the emperor. […]

About a decade before constructing the Kyoto castle, Hideyoshi built the Jurakudai palace where he carried out his political duties as kanpaku and also resided. Hideyoshi turned over the Jurakudai palace and kanpaku rank to his nephew, Hidetsugu. But with the birth of Hideyori, Hidetsugu was compelled to commit suicide. Hideyoshi then ordered the Jurakudai palace to be demolished.

Kazuto Hongo, a professor of medieval Japanese history at the Historiographical Institute of the University of Tokyo, said the Kyoto castle showed that the ancient capital still held immense importance to Hideyoshi even after he tore down the Jurakudai palace. […]

Hongo speculated that Hideyoshi built the castle as a means of passing on the authority of the high court ranks he held to his successors. Hongo noted that Hideyoshi was concerned about Tokugawa Ieyasu (1543-1616) gaining control of the nation after his death.

He was right to be concerned because that’s exactly what happened.