Pierce Egan on Mr. Walbourn’s “Dusty Bob.”
“It is the greatest possible praise to be praised by a man who is himself deserving of praise.”
“Approbation from Sir Hubert Stanley is praise indeed.”
Mr. Walbourn’s theatrical fame was made by, and, strange to say, expired with the character of Dusty Bob. Pierce Egan, in his “Life of an Actor,”—which he dedicated to Edmund Kean—classes his performance of this part, as giving him a title in the niche of fame beside John Kemble, Mrs. Siddons, and all the great actors contained in his “Catalogues of Parts Acted”—which can never be forgotten by those who witnessed them. Here is the note, and will be found at page twelve of the work:—“The personification of Dusty Bob, by the above actor, has been unanimously decided by the public to be one of the greatest triumphs of the histrionic art ever exhibited on any stage. The first tragedian of the day,[35] with the utmost liberality, gave it as his opinion, that, during the whole course of his theatrical life, he had never seen any performance equal to it. Also, a comic actor of the greatest celebrity[36] exclaimed, ‘Good heaven! is it possible? Do my eyes deceive me? Most certainly it is a real dustman they have got upon the stage. I am very sorry the profession has descended so low as to be compelled to resort to the streets to procure a person of that description to sustain the character.’ He left the body of the theatre in utter disgust—nor was it until introduced to Mr. Walbourn in person, behind the scenes, that he would believe it was an actor. Further praise than this is superfluous.”
Mr. Walbourn as “Dusty Bob,” was drawn and engraved by George Cruikshank, and sold, with other character-portraits, at the Adelphi Theatre. During the long run of the piece, he exchanged one species of hops for another, as he gave up his business as a private and stage dancing-master, and took the “Maidenhead” public-house at Battle Bridge. The house, previous to his taking it was doing only a small trade; but, when he became the landlord, and put out a spick-span new and a “not so dusty” sign of himself as “Dusty Bob,” painted in oil by George Cruikshank, it drew together many of the “Dusty” fraternity—and their doxies. After that, “Dusty Bob,” together with “Black Sal,” became to be bye words, as, near to the house, was Smith’s dust-yard, at which hundreds were employed, male and female. But:—
“A heap of dust alone remains of thee;
’Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be!”
The Literary Dustman.
My dawning genus fust did peep,
Near Battle Bridge ’tis plain, sirs—
You recollect the cinder heap,
Vot stood in Gray’s Inn Lane, sirs?[37]
’Twas there I studied pic—turesque,
Vhile I my bread vos yarning,
And there, inhailing the fresh breeze,
I sifted out my larnin’!
They calls me Adam Bell, ’tis clear,
(As Adam vos the furst man),
And by a co—in—side—ance queer,
Vy, I’m the fust of dustmen!—
A Literary Dustman!