A few months ago (on January 22nd this year, to be precise) I started to meditate at night with a relaxing Celtic music. As I nearly always do as of late, I meditate without expecting anything special, with no intention of going to past lives. And even so, sometimes I keep obtaining information. This time it was a quick flash. I immediately knew it was my Royal Navy life, but it was so quick and so weird that I didn’t give it too much importance and I left it in quarantine (that is to say, classified as a doubtful memory unless I can verify it). This is what I saw:
I see what looks like a theater. Many period armchairs (18th century), red upholstery, golden frame and ornaments. They all are arranged on some kind of tier (it looks strange to me, but this is what I see). I don’t know whether it is there where we or the musicians are to be seated, now they are vacant. The impression is that I have come with my wife, who has dressed very elegantly for the occasion, with a white dress with embroidery or laces. It could be Boston (that is the first idea that comes to me, but it could also be London). Afterward, I know there is a great banquet.
In the absence of more data that could allow me to make an exhaustive search, I left it there and forgot the flash during all this time.
Well, I start playing and it turns out one of the first missions is in a London theater. The year is 1756 (I died in 1744 as James). After killing your first target, you have to get out the theater without drawing too much attention. And while I am running away, I walk through an area (which must be one of the sides of the theater) that is almost identical to what I saw in that memory. Unfortunately, due to Ubisoft’s security measures and my scarce computer skills, I haven’t been able to make a screenshot, but I have been able to take this image from a video I found on the internet:
Now, I can’t forget Assassin’s Creed III is just a videogame, and I don’t know how faithful to reality it is, or what sources they used to recreate the theater and everything there is inside. In the videogame they say it is London’s Theatre Royal, also known as Covent Garden or Royal Opera House, depending on the time period. I have investigated and it is indeed compatible with my life as James and the age I estimate I was by then. There is also another theater, called Drury Lane, which is quite similar. I could have known both and been in any of them. When I see real photographs of Theatre Royal at present time alongside images taken from the game, it can be appreciated that the game’s creators have been indeed quite faithful to the historical data.
In 1728, John Rich, actor-manager of the Duke's Company at Lincoln’s Inn Fields Theatre, commissioned The Beggar’s Opera from John Gay. The success of this venture provided him with the capital to build the Theatre Royal (designed by Edward Shepherd) at the site of an ancient convent garden, part of which had been developed by Inigo Jones in the 1630s with a piazza and church. In addition, a Royal Charter had created a fruit and vegetable market in the area, a market which survived in that location until 1974. At its opening on 7 December 1732, Rich was carried by his actors in processional triumph into the theatre for its opening production of William Congreve’s The Way of the World.
During the first hundred years or so of its history, the theatre was primarily a playhouse, with the Letters Patent granted by Charles II giving Covent Garden and Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, exclusive rights to present spoken drama in London. Despite the frequent interchangeability between the Covent Garden and Drury Lane companies, competition was intense, often presenting the same plays at the same time. Rich introduced pantomime to the repertoire, himself performing (under the stage name John Lun, as Harlequin) and a tradition of seasonal pantomime continued at the modern theatre, until 1939.
In 1734, Covent Garden presented its first ballet, Pygmalion. Marie Sallé discarded tradition and her corset and danced in diaphanous robes. George Frideric Handel was named musical director of the company, at Lincoln's Inn Fields, in 1719, but his first season of opera, at Covent Garden, was not presented until 1734. His first opera was Il pastor fido followed by Ariodante (1735), the première of Alcina, and Atalanta the following year. There was a royal performance of Messiah in 1743, which was a success and began a tradition of Lenten oratorio performances. From 1735 until his death in 1759 he gave regular seasons there, and many of his operas and oratorios were written for Covent Garden or had their first London performances there. He bequeathed his organ to John Rich, and it was placed in a prominent position on the stage, but was among many valuable items lost in a fire that destroyed the theatre on 20 September 1808. In 1792 the architect Henry Holland rebuilt the auditorium, within the existing shell of the building but deeper and wider than the old auditorium, thus increasing capacity.
https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Royal_Opera_House
But there is more. A few days ago I described a night scene aboard a ship in one of my journeys. This is what I wrote:
Someone asks me, “Capt’n, will you go down soon?” To which I answer, “Yes, in a while.” The deck is getting empty, only the men who will do the watch remain (the men-in-watch, comes to my mind). As the darkness of night falls (pitch black), oil lamps (lanterns) are lighted up all along the deck. The scene is beautiful, spectacular. It is as if I am seeing it right now.
(Today we have to be soldiers.)
There was another moment in which I leaned over the rail to gaze at the sea and I could behold a scenery almost identical to another one of my memories. This one:
I saw that I was going up some stairs and knew I was heading to the forecastle. I could see the bowsprit ahead of me (I just learned this word and its equivalent in Spanish, normally I would say “a stick that goes out from the bow”), and above I could feel (rather than see) the presence of many ropes. I gazed at the horizon and saw a reddish sun very close to the sea. At first I doubted if it was dusk or dawn, but after a while I decided the sun was setting, as its colour was very red and the sky was very dark. I supposed we were going westward, and somehow I knew we were returning home from the Americas. I gave my last orders of the day (drop anchor, lower sails) and I allowed myself a moment of calm, with my hands crossed behind my back, feeling proud of getting to the end of yet another day with the work well done. I breathed deeply, enjoying the peace and the view. I told myself, “This moment should last forever”, as I have thought many other times in this life too.
(Today we have to be soldiers.)