In the previous chapter we mentioned thatRienziwas not ready until 1826 and that its production at Covent Garden during that year was postponed because of a disagreement between Macready and Young. As a matter of fact the play was finished to the mutual satisfaction of its author, and her friends Talfourd and Harness, early in 1825, but when submitted to Macready he would only accept it on condition that certain rather drastic alterations were made. In this he was perfectly justified for, be it remembered, he was not only an actor of high rank but a critic of remarkable ability—a combination of scholar and actor which caused him to be consulted on every point connected with the drama and whose judgment was rarely wrong. Upon hearing his decision Miss Mitford appears to have lost her composure—we will charitably remind ourselves that she had put much labour and thought into this play—and to have rushed off to consult the two friends who, having read the play, had already pronounced it ready forpresentation. Upon hearing Macready’s suggestions Harness was considerably piqued, the more so as in addition to his clerical duties, he was, at this time, enjoying a considerable reputation as a dramatic critic, his writings in the magazines being eagerly looked for and as eagerly read when they appeared. There is no doubt that he, backed up by Talfourd, counselled Miss Mitford not to adopt Macready’s suggestions, but Macready was not the man to brook interference from outsiders and told Miss Mitford that not only must she alter the play in accordance with his views, but without delay if she required him to produce it. This naturally placed the author in an awkward position for she knew, as Macready knew, that he was the person for whom the play had been written and that, did he refuse it, there was no other person on the English stage who could, by any chance, do justice to it. To refuse his request would mean a serious loss to her, and so, humiliated for the moment, she set to work in great haste to carry out Macready’s wishes. It was done with an ill grace, for it seemed to Miss Mitford as so much unnecessary labour, especially as critics like Talfourd and Harness had said so. It was unfortunate that, in her bitterness, she overlooked the fact that Macready was, under the circumstances, entitled to every consideration, seeing he had most at stake in the matter of reputation, etc.
The story of this little breeze got about—possibly it only reached the ears of a few—but it got about, and some person, some evil-disposed person, fully cognizant of the feud which existed between Kemble and Macready wrote an open letter “To Charles Kemble, Esq., and R. W. Ellison, Esq., On the Present State of the Stage,” in which the writer urged these gentlemen to exercise themselves and prevent the Drama from “going to the dogs,” suggesting the cause of and offering a remedy for the degeneration. The article was published inBlackwood’s Magazinefor June, 1825, and bore indubitable evidence of having been written by some person possessed of an extraordinarily intimate knowledge of Miss Mitford and her affairs. It began:—“Gentlemen,—It will, I fear, appear to you as somewhat officious that a stranger, possessing no other skill in the mysteries of theatrical politics than the constant perusal of every play bill, and a very frequent seat in the middle of the pit can afford him, should thus attempt to call away your thoughts from the many anxious and perplexing occupations in which you are engaged, and demand your attention to his unsolicited advice on the management of Covent Garden and Drury Lane.” Having thus introduced himself the writer proceeded to animadvert on what he asserted was the decline in the public taste for the legitimate drama, instancing the fact that the managers had been forced to introducevariety shows in order to keep up the receipts; and he went on to say that “the present depressed state of the national drama is the fault of yourGreat Actors—I mean of yoursoi-disantGreat Actors—of Messrs. Kean, Young and Macready.” The arrogant pretensions of these gentlemen were such as not to allow an author to tell his story exactly as he conceived it. “Would any play so written, have a chance of being represented?” proceeded the writer, arguing that it would not because these actors refused to play any but the hero and insisted on the author keeping down the minor rôles.
“Are you not compelled to sacrifice the interest of the author which ought to be your first concern, whether you consider your duty to the public or yourselves, to the caprice and absurd vanity of your principal performers? The author must obey the directions of the performer; the whole order and process of the work is reversed; and the dramatist is expected to mould his character to fit the actor, instead of the actor modelling his preparation to the conception of the author.”
Up to this point the article, though offensive to the actors named, was nothing more than the outburst of a man who might be voicing a public grievance; but he continued in a strain which proved at once that he was something more than a lover of and regular attendant atthe play—that he was indeed in the confidence of one, at least, of the authors he was championing. “The history of the lately rejected tragedy ofRienziis strikingly illustrative of the evils that attend the operation of the present system. The authoress, a person not a little distinguished in the literary world, had selected, for the exercise of her talent, a passage of history which Gibbon has recommended as peculiarly calculated for dramatic representation. The plot was completed and shown to Mr. Macready. He was delighted with the production. The chief part was very effective both in language and situation, and only required a very few and slight alterations to render it worthy the abilities of any of thegreatactors. He wished an entirely new first act; this was indispensable; thatRienzimight be introduced striking to the earth an injurious patrician, as Moses smote the Egyptian, because this circumstance had peculiarly pleased Mr. Macready’s fancy when a boy at school. To make room for the introduction of this important incident, the second and third acts, to the great injury of the general interest and original arrangement of the tragedy, were to be compressed into one. The fifth act, which had been framed in the most strict conformity with the truth of History, was to be re-written; that the character ofRienzimight, to the very dropping of the curtain, hold its paramount station on the stage.
“All these alterations were to bemade in a fortnight. The authoress was then to return to town with the play and superintend in person the rehearsals and thegetting-upof the piece; but at all events the work must be readyin a fortnight. In a fortnight the play was mangled and distorted, and fitted to Mr. Macready’s exaggerated and melo-dramatic measures of performing; the author arrived in London to attend the bringing-out of the play; she called on Mr. Macready with the manuscript; to her utter astonishment, he received her with the greatest coolness:—‘There was no hurry for the play. The managers had another piece at the theatre, which must at all events be produced first.’”
Having thus divulged details of a most intimate character—circumstantial to a degree—the writer proceeded to argue that this sort of treatment must make authors of the front rank give up dramatic work in disgust, and then wound up with the suggestion that if these great actors, with their absurd mannerisms, refused to abide by a code which would banish the present bad state of affairs, then let them go to the country and in twelve months they would be completely forgotten.
It will be readily conceded that the article was extremely offensive towards Macready, and, as he afterwards maintained, very damaging too. He claimed that the damage it made to hisreputation resulted in the reduction of his income by one-half and that it made him seriously consider an immediate retirement from the stage—a course which he abandoned only because of his children and their dependence upon him.
The article was an anonymous one, signed “Philo-Dramaticus” and by reason of the inner knowledge it revealed of what were unquestionably private conversations between Miss Mitford and Macready, suspicion fell on William Harness. Taxed with its authorship, he denied the accusation and was not believed. The subject was one upon which every one was talking; in club-land and in stage-land the question was being continually asked: “Who wrote theBlackwoodarticle?”
Poor Macready was sorely wounded and wrote to Miss Mitford. The letter reached her at a time when she was suffering from an abscess, confined to her bed. She dreaded these embroilments; she was for peace; but in this case she was, to some extent, to blame in not acting on Macready’s advice, without seeking the further advice of her friends. Macready now desired to learn from her whether she knew the author of the malignant article, and whether she had authorized the person to write so in her behalf. The situation was difficult; how to answer these queries she knew not. That she knew, or suspected, the author, is without a doubt for she must have written to that person on the point.In her extremity she got her mother to write to their mutual friend Talfourd and since it is so important we quote it in full:—
“My dear Friend,—I am obliged to make use of my mother’s hand to write to you having been for a week past confined to my bed with an abscess which prevents me turning on either side—it proceeds from neglected inflammation, I having taken it for a boil—There is no danger I believe although much fever and very great pain. The letter from Mr. Macready which I got arrived this morning—I have not answered it, nor shall I until I hear from you—What can I say? You will see from the enclosed note (which I send in strict confidence) he wrote the article. I suspected William Harness and I asked him and you see what he says—What can I say? The statement, however inaccurate in trifling matters, is yet substantially trueas you will know—although it is possible that had I behaved with more patience and submission (and I most sincerely wish I had) the result might have been different—It is very rarely that a quarrel takes place between two persons without some touch of blame on either side—and a sick bed is not a place to deny one’s faults—Still the statement is substantially true and was undoubtedly derived from my own information—in which is bitterness of disappointment—although the publication was so far frombeing authorized by me that I do not know anything that ever gave me more pain, but what can I do? I cannot disavow my kind and zealous friend William Harness—I cannot disavow that part of the statement which is true—and nothing less than an entire disavowal would satisfy Mr. Macready, yet God knows how I dread one of his long narratives—What can I do? I have had to-day another most pleasant note from Mr. Harness—They are delighted withCharles I—Mr. Hope read it without laying down and said: ‘It was a very fine play—that Charles was excellent, and Cromwell excellent, the Queen very good and the action quite sufficient.’ This is very pleasant from the author ofAnastatius—William does not say a word about Cromwell’s cant, and if he, the clergyman, does not mind it, I should hope that George Colman[20]would not, especially as it is now a high tory play. I shall tell William to send the MS. to your house or Chambers (which?) as soon as I know you are returned.“It is certainly quite a new thing especially Cromwell—For in spite of my having written Charlesupas much as possible, Oliver is the life of the piece—God bless you my dear friend—“Kind regards from all—“Ever yours,“M. R. M.”“Could you write to Mr. M.? Would that be prudent? I don’t know that it would—He evidently wants a complete disavowal—I wonder what he means to do—Do write me your advice most minutely—And pray forgive the trouble.”
“My dear Friend,—I am obliged to make use of my mother’s hand to write to you having been for a week past confined to my bed with an abscess which prevents me turning on either side—it proceeds from neglected inflammation, I having taken it for a boil—There is no danger I believe although much fever and very great pain. The letter from Mr. Macready which I got arrived this morning—I have not answered it, nor shall I until I hear from you—What can I say? You will see from the enclosed note (which I send in strict confidence) he wrote the article. I suspected William Harness and I asked him and you see what he says—What can I say? The statement, however inaccurate in trifling matters, is yet substantially trueas you will know—although it is possible that had I behaved with more patience and submission (and I most sincerely wish I had) the result might have been different—It is very rarely that a quarrel takes place between two persons without some touch of blame on either side—and a sick bed is not a place to deny one’s faults—Still the statement is substantially true and was undoubtedly derived from my own information—in which is bitterness of disappointment—although the publication was so far frombeing authorized by me that I do not know anything that ever gave me more pain, but what can I do? I cannot disavow my kind and zealous friend William Harness—I cannot disavow that part of the statement which is true—and nothing less than an entire disavowal would satisfy Mr. Macready, yet God knows how I dread one of his long narratives—What can I do? I have had to-day another most pleasant note from Mr. Harness—They are delighted withCharles I—Mr. Hope read it without laying down and said: ‘It was a very fine play—that Charles was excellent, and Cromwell excellent, the Queen very good and the action quite sufficient.’ This is very pleasant from the author ofAnastatius—William does not say a word about Cromwell’s cant, and if he, the clergyman, does not mind it, I should hope that George Colman[20]would not, especially as it is now a high tory play. I shall tell William to send the MS. to your house or Chambers (which?) as soon as I know you are returned.
“It is certainly quite a new thing especially Cromwell—For in spite of my having written Charlesupas much as possible, Oliver is the life of the piece—God bless you my dear friend—
“Kind regards from all—“Ever yours,“M. R. M.”
“Could you write to Mr. M.? Would that be prudent? I don’t know that it would—He evidently wants a complete disavowal—I wonder what he means to do—Do write me your advice most minutely—And pray forgive the trouble.”
Dismissing from our minds that portion which deals with “Charles I” and what the critics thought of it and confining ourselves to the other matter, we shall plainly see that Miss Mitford’s suspicions as to the author had undergone a change by her receipt of the note from the real culprit and as she mentions her original suspicion regarding William Harness we may permissibly infer that he and the culprit were not one and the same. What Talfourd did with the note which was submitted to him in strict confidence is not known to us. Probably he returned it to Miss Mitford. In any case the letter from which we took our copy bore no clue, and the identity of the person who wrote the offending article cannot therefore be revealed. It is, however, quite clear from the postscript that Miss Mitford was apprehensive lest Macready should resort to law and that is a view which is strengthened by her appeal to Talfourd, who was a lawyer, to write his advice most minutely.
Whether Miss Mitford ever replied to Macready, and, if so, what was its purport, are questions which we can only surmise from a statement,made by Macready, some years later, but we do know that, for many years after, the great actor nursed a grievance against Miss Mitford and cherished a bitter resentful feeling against Harness, believing the latter to be the person who had written theBlackwoodarticle. In hisDiary, after an interval of eleven years—i.e. February, 1836—recalling his endeavours to be of service to Miss Mitford he writes of her as requiting him “by libel and serious injury,” while throughout that and the following year are many entries containing disparaging remarks about her and her “inability to write a play.”
Of Harness, in this sameDiary, he wrote still more bitterly. “I believe the Rev. Mr. Harness was among my slanderers at the time” is a reference to the old grievance, written under date June 30, 1835. In the July following he classes Harness with those “who gain their livelihood and draw their gratifications from the imagined triumphs of their envious and malignant nature”; in March, 1836, he writes of Harness’ “blackguardism and rascality” and so on, frequently through theDiaryuntil January 8, 1839. On this day Harness called on him by appointment to discuss a play by Mrs. Butler (Fanny Kemble) and, after the business was transacted, Macready detained him by saying there was another matter on which he wished to speak with him. “I observed to him thatwhatever faults of character might be ascribed to me, I was incapable of doing any one an injury wittingly; that my notions of honour and virtue, such as they were, were strictly revered by me, and if I had done him a wrong, I held myself bound to expatiate [sic] it in every possible way. I then mentioned to him the libellous article which in June, 1825, had been written against me inBlackwood’s Magazine; the effect it had had in raisingthe Pressagainst me; the partial contradiction that Miss Mitford had given it.... He was evidently much embarrassed and seemed to suffer much; his mode of expressing himself was confused andrambling; he said that he must acknowledge that he was inculpated so far as that he had heard the story told by Miss Mitford, and had communicated it to the writer of the article, but that he had not written it.... I told him that I was very glad to hear that he was not the author, as I was happy to think well of all men, and was very sorry that I had suspected him of the fact. He was going away, when he turned back, having passed the door, and said, ‘I think we ought to shake hands.’ I gave him my hand, saying, ‘I was very happy to do so,’ and we parted. My heart was much lighter, and I fear his wasmuch, very muchheavier, as it is evident, though not the author, that he was deeply implicated in that shocking transaction—that assassination of my character. I thinkof him with perfect charity, and with the most entire and cheerful forgiveness.”[21]
Thus ended this extraordinary and lengthy feud begotten of a trifling incident which unwisdom magnified. Truly Miss Mitford might justly doubt the proverb that “in multitude of counsellors there is safety.” It was a sorry business in which neither of the participants can be said to have shone.
FOOTNOTES:[20]George Colman the Younger, Examiner of Plays (1824-1836).[21]The Diaries of William Charles Macready, 1833-1851, edited by William Toynbee, London: Chapman and Hall, Ltd., 1912, 2 vols.
[20]George Colman the Younger, Examiner of Plays (1824-1836).
[20]George Colman the Younger, Examiner of Plays (1824-1836).
[21]The Diaries of William Charles Macready, 1833-1851, edited by William Toynbee, London: Chapman and Hall, Ltd., 1912, 2 vols.
[21]The Diaries of William Charles Macready, 1833-1851, edited by William Toynbee, London: Chapman and Hall, Ltd., 1912, 2 vols.