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 at the 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 of Rienzi is 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 the great actors. He wished an entirely new first act; this was indispensable; that Rienzi might 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 of Rienzi might, to the very dropping of the curtain, hold its paramount station on the stage.
“All these alterations were to be made in a fortnight. The authoress was then to return to town with the play and superintend in person the rehearsals and the getting-up of the piece; but at all events the work must be ready in 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 his reputation 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 the Blackwood article?”
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 true as 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 from being 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 with Charles 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 of Anastatius—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 Charles up as 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.”