I have but one sad wish when life is o'er,—
Whatever fate is mine, on sea or shore,
Whoe'er may claim my ashes for a trust,
They still may come to mingle with thy dust.
'Tis fit this troubled heart, when spent with care,
Again should turn to that unfailing breast,
And find at last the home my childhood shared,—
The quiet chamber of my mother's rest."
The wish has been fulfilled, and the forms of mother and son sleep side by side where no pain, no harsh word, ever comes.
In the September of 1848 Macready had made his reappearance on the American stage. Some of the friends of Forrest, democrats who had potent influence with the Bowery Boys, or the muscular multitude of New York, called on him, and proposed to have the English tragedian driven from the theatre. Forrest felt that such a course would be unworthy of him, and, instead of giving him revenge, would dishonor his name, and make his enemy of increased importance. He refused to have anything to do with such an attempt, and urged his friends to drop the matter entirely. They did so. When, however, Macready, taking advantage of a call before the curtain to make a speech, told the public that he had been assured that he was to be met by an organized opposition, and thanked them for the flattering reception which had "defeated the plan," "baffled his unprovoked antagonists, and rebuked his would-be-assailants," fresh indignation was stirred, and a great deal of bad blood kindled. In Philadelphia he was saluted with some hissing amidst the great applause. He then took occasion to say of Forrest, directly, "He did towards me what I am sure no English actor would have done towards him,—he openly hissed me." This caused an intense excitement in the house, with several personal collisions. The next day Forrest published a letter in the "Pennsylvanian," replying to Macready's speech, and arraigning his conduct and his character in very severe terms. The statements in the letter may all have been true and just, but it was written in an angry temper, and had better not have been written. It was not in good taste, and, spreading the contagion of an inflamed individual quarrel among the community, was of bad influence. Where his passions were concerned, good taste was not the motto of Forrest. Downright honesty and justice, rather than the delicate standards of politeness, were his aim. Macready retorted in a published card, to which Forrest responded indirectly in several long letters to a friend. Thus the controversy waxed hotter, and excited wider and angrier interest. And when the English actor was ready to begin his closing engagement in New York, in May, 1849, the elements for a storm were all ready.