“It is scarcely necessary to observe this Drama is founded on the “Life in London” of my friends Pierce Egan, and the inimitable Cruickshank. Aided by Pierce’s clever illustrations to the matchless series of plates to that work, I have in this piece, endeavoured to put them into dramatic motion; running a connecting story through the whole, making such modifications and amplifications, and furnishing such reflections and results, as I deemed necessary. From the popularity of the subject, the novelty and acknowledged truth of the various scenes comprised in it, and the beauty of the music I fortunately selected, this Piece obtained a popularity, and excited a sensation, totally unprecedented in Theatrical History; from the highest to the lowest, all classes were alike anxious to witness its representation; Dukes and Dustmen were equally interested in its performance, and Peers might be seen mobbing it with Apprentices to obtain admission. Seats were sold for weeks before they could be occupied, every Theatre in the United Kingdom, even in the United States, enriched its coffers by performing it; and the smallest tithe-portion of its profits, would for ever have rendered it unnecessary for its Author to have troubled the public with any further productions of his Muse. It established the fortunes of most of the Actors engaged in its representation, and gave birth to many publications and several newspapers. The success of the “Beggar’s Opera,” the “Castle Spectre,” and “Pizarro,” sunk into the shade before it. In the furore of its popularity, persons have been known to travel post from the furthest parts of the Kingdom to see it; and five guineas have been offered for a single seat.—These facts are not recapitulated here from any feeling of egotism—the success of this Drama, was the temporary rage of the moment, from time-serving circumstances, and was never regarded in any other light by its Author; they are merely noticed as curious events in theatrical history.—With respect to the cry of immorality, so loudly raised by those inimical to the success and plain-speaking of this piece, it is soon answered! To say nothing of the envy of rival Theatres feeling its attraction most sensibly in their Saturday Treasuries, those notorious pests the Watchmen; dexterously joined in the war-howl of detraction raised against it, and by converting every trifling street-broil into a “Tom and Jerry row,” endeavoured to revenge themselves for the exposè its scenes afforded of their villany and extortion; but all in vain. In vain, too, it was the Actor’s old rivals, the Methodists, took the alarm—in vain they distributed the whole of the stock of the Religious Tract Society at the doors of the Theatre—in vain they denounced “Tom and Jerry” from the pulpit—in vain the puritanical portion of the Press prated of its immorality—in vain the prejudices of the stiff-backed part of the Bench—the hypocritical host of Saints cried it down, and preached woe and destruction to those who supported it.—They but increased the number of its followers, and added to its popularity. Vainly, too, was the Lord Chamberlain called upon to suppress it—His Grace came one night to see it, and brought his Duchess the next. It was nearly the same with the Chief Magistrate of Bow Street: his experience rendered him perfectly sensible, that, long before the appearance of “Tom and Jerry,” young men and country gentlemen would in moments of hilarity, sometimes exceed in their potations, be provoked into quarrels by designing Watchmen, and consigned, for purposes of extortion on the following morning, to His Honour, the Night Constable; but according to the Saints’ accounts, to believe their tales, it must be held as a point of faith, that no one, previous to the appearance of “Tom and Jerry,” ever got into a row!—Oh, no—drinking and all its train of follies were unknown to youth, until inculcated into their minds by the example of “Tom and Jerry!” How many an unsuspecting Country Cousin has been converted, in the public newspapers, through an hour of harmless frolic, into a Jerry; while his equally unconscious Town relation figured as a Tom, and any honest plodder they may have had with them is transformed into a Bob Logic—his first appearance in that character. The thing speaks for itself: the hue and cry of the immorality and danger of this piece was raised merely for the purposes of plunder, by Watchmen and others. So far from being immoral, if the piece be fairly examined, it will be found to be as correct in its tendency as any production ever brought on the stage. The obnoxious scenes of life are only shown that they may be avoided: the danger of mixing in them is strikingly exemplified; and every incident tends to prove, that happiness is only to be found in the domestic circle.
“It has been said, that many of the scenes of this piece should not have been exhibited, being scenes of dissipation, riot, and impropriety—ridiculous!—Has not Shakespeare asserted that the proper use of the drama is—“to hold, as ’twere, the mirror up to nature, to show virtue her own feature, and vice her own image, and the very age and body of the time its form and pressure:” could any piece do this more effectually than “Tom and Jerry?” take away the scenes complained of, it ceases to show the form and pressure of the age and time.
“I should not have published this piece had not its success produced such a host of imitations and plagiarisms, that more to prevent myself suffering from the demerits of others than to avail myself of any merits of my own. I give it with all its imperfections on its head, to the world; willing to pay smart blunt for my own misdeeds, but not stand Sammy for those of others. To those venerable noodles who complain that I and my prototype, Pierce, have made this the age of flash; I answer any age is better than The age of cant! I tell my pious lecturers, in plain terms, I shall always feel pleasure in reflecting that I have in this piece, nosed every move on the board, in the game of the spell; opened the ogles of the green and the yokel, and the muff, and the raw; struck a light on the darky of their knowledge boxes, flashed the gab of the prig, the leg, the scamp and the stringer, in their listeners, put them fly and awake to all they should be up and down to, and enabled them, if their lugs are at all wing to the bits of good truth, pattered to them in every scene of this piece, bank their rag, chivey their nurses, nash their leading strings, and keep out of the way of the cut-along-coaches as they travel the high toby of existence; and having so done, can lay my mawley on my core, and conscienciously chaunt my conviction, in which my reader will bear me out, “that I’ve cut all the buzmen, and done the thing right.”
W. T. M.
104, Drury Lane,
Dec. 15, 1825.
The Dustman.
| Bring out your dust the dustman cries, Whilst ringing of his bell: If the wind blows, pray guard your eyes, To keep them clear and well. |