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My First Play - by Horace Bleakley, 1885

"MY FIRST PLAY," AND WHY IT WAS “DAMNED !"

To tell the truth, I never knew the reason. It was well written; at least, I wrote it myself, and that ought to have been sufficient to guarantee a favourable crirticism. Besides this, a splendid company of artistes had been engaged; special scenery had been painted; the best and only theatre in the town was at my disposal; numerous bills, in which my name figured conspicu" ously in letters nearly a yard high, had been posted all over; and yet the orities had the barefaced presmption to "damn" it. But, well, it showed their bad taste; and that their villany may be fully exposed I will relate every detail which attended the first performance of my play, and leave the public to judge between us.

It was always my ambition to become a dramatic author. I burnt to be one. Yes, I burnt to be one in several ways; for well I remember the night on which I was writing my new melodrama of the “Three Devils," in bed, and suddenly my candle set fire to the ourtains of my couch. Yes, and in the morning after they had been burnt I, too, burnt, but from a different cause, viz., the gentle ) application of a bireh rod to & tender part of my anatomy, which my extreme modesty prevents me naming.

My ardour was in no way cooled, for in a week after this conflagration the “Three Devils” had been finished and was in active rehearsal, the characters being represented by myself, my three brothers, and two sisters.

It was soon produced to an audience consisting of my father, my mother, and two servants. The performance began at six p.m. prompt, as we had to retire at ten, which we did punctually, after acting vigorously for three hours, and by dint of great exertion had finished two out of the five acts. We were not allowed to proceed any further the following evening, as the drama was objected to for having too much "swearing” in it.

However, I was not to be daunted, and produced the play the following week in a barn, to a large and enthusiastic audience, composed entirely of my school companions. It took three consecutive Saturday afternoons to get through, but was a tremendous success, and I thought it was very bad taste of my mother to object to the swearing, as that was the greatest hit in the whole play, for the audience clapped and applauded at every bit of bad language, and so there was a continual roar throughout the piece.

This is just an instance to show where my inclinations tended, and took place when I was only 15; but let me hasten on to the time when I produced my great drama, "The Mormon's Four Wives; or, The Stray Bullet," at the Theatre Royal, Salbey, in which town I resided. I, Walter Cornwall, was then just 23 years old, was rather short, had flaxen hair, and wore tight trousers. gaiters, and an eye-glass.

Since the last two years I had been in the most aristocratie club in the town; had attended the theatre religiously twice a week; had made friends with the manager (i.e., presented him with sundry bottles of champagne); went behind the scenes each night: know all the actors of the stock company; and had instituted a new idea at our club, viz., a supper to the instituted a new idea at our club, viz., a supper to the ladies who had acted in the last pantomime, to the no small joy of the local mashers; and altogether I was a big gun. Of course, the manager was delighted at my patronage. He well might be, as I generally used to treat him, once a week, to a supper, and it was through this friendship that my ambition to write an authentical play first emanated. One evening when my supper had been more luxuriant than usual, and the manager had eaten and drunk ad libitum, he grew more communicative, and informed me that he was sadly in want of a good original play, to bring out all the talent of his company.

"I say, Cornwall, old boy, why can't you write a play for me” he inquired.

I was thunderstruck, but combined with my astonishment there was a feeling of flattered pride ; and then I remembered the success of the "Three Devils."

"You don't mean to tell me that you will produce it?" I breathlessly asked.

"Certainly, old boy," he responded. "Then I'll do it," I triumphantly shouted.

"Don't you see, old boy," said the manager, "that you are well known in the town, and that everyone will come to see & play written by a fellow townsman. It'll be a novelty.”

Considering what a thick-skulled community our town was composed of, I saw that it would be a novelty. Accordingly the bargain was made : I should write a play, and it should be produced in the summer it was now March, so I had plenty of time.

For three nights I never slept. I could not decide what my play was to be; at one time I was flashing out a speech in blank verse about the price of coals; then I determined to write a comedy, in which I could introduce a funny blind beggar; then a burlesque, with a pretty princess; then a tragedy, with a few kings and queens, courtiers, and murders; but, finally, my previous success in drama was too great an inducement, and accordingly the melodrama of "The Mormon's Four Wives; or, The Stray Bullet," was the result.

Placards were printed announcing this great work before I had really begun it. I had christened it a "serio-comical melodramical play,” but in the bills it was announced "a serius-comical melodramical tragedy," and on inquiry I found out that it was a "clerical error," which so incensed me that I wrote several fiery letters anathematising the Rector of our parish church, who, I imagined, was the author of the mistake.

I now parted my hair in the exact manner of Shakespeare, as he was depicted in a large print which I possessed. I suppose it was right. I also wore Byronial sollars, and imitated the Poet Laureate both in my dress. walk, and manner of speech.

After three months' hard labour, to which I had condemned myself, the drama was finished, and I will now endeavour to describe the plot of this great work.

There was a Mormon in it, Bill Sluggins, who had married four wives. The four wives lived with him, and each imagined that the other three were his sisters. One wife was a faithful one, the other three were preparing to fly with their three lovers, one of whom was a tall, sentimental character, with long hair: the other very short and thin, between whom I had arranged al funny scene (the short man was to walk upright under the tall one's legs); and the third was a fat, short fellow who was to be the comic man of the play. There were who was to be the comic man of the play. There were also three brothers in love with these three wives, but they were ignorant that they were enamoured of their sisters and also that they were married ; and here the complication occurred. I had three duels between the lovers and brothers, a good many fainting scenes between the wives, and finally they all set upon the unfortunate husband Sluggins, and nearly murdered him. This happened in the second act, which was the sensational scene, and depicted four rooms divided off by partitions, each room belonging to one of the four wives. I got this idea from the “Streets of London." Having killed Sluggins, as they supposed, the three wives, each with a brother and a lover, betook themselves to their respective chambers. The virtuous Sluggins was saved by a friend, who, taking aim through the keyhole of the faithful wife's room, killed all the lovers, brothers, and wives with one bullet. This was why the play was called the “Stray Bullet.” The bullet first killed one wife, one lover, and one brother in the first room, penetrated into the next and slew three more in the same fashion, and then into the last room with the same effect. I had also a real live villain, with such hair, long and black, who, of course, was the enemy of poor Sluggins. The last three acts dealt with his sufferings and the troubles of his faithful wife, the baseness of the black-hearted villain, and the unselfish devotion of the brave friend. I will own that the plot of my play was rather complicated, but that heightened its interest, and every one will see that I had provided a play of great interest and of many novel situations, combined with a dash of comicality.

Directly my play was finished my highly-prized manuscript was placed in the hands of the manager, and soon it was in active rehearsal and advertised for July 1. It certainly was a novelty, and was to the taste of the multitude, for within a fortnight of its production all the reserved seats were engaged, and a great movement was set on foot for the "reservation of pit seats,” but which was a signal failure, During the last week in June our butcher's bill was decreased by 25s. in consequence of my loss of appetite, owing to my anxiety for my play to be a success.

On that memorable 1st of July, as I was walking to the theatre at half-past five (the curtain was to rise at seven), I felt myself an unusual object of attraction.

A mob of many hundred strong had already gathered round the pit and gallery doors, waiting excitedly for them to be opened, and when they caught sight of me a most enthusiastic reception was accorded to me, and it was with the greatest exertion that I reached the stage-door.

All was bustle and confusion, and I determined to see that my characters were just as I had pictured them before allowing them to appear. With this view I betook myself into the villain's dressing-room. He was engaged in gluing on an enormous pair of eyebrows : his wig was immense ; his moustache hung down over his collar, and altogether he looked capable of "dissembling"even the number of times that he was required. Leaving him, I hurried to Sluggins, who was perfect, and next I entered the apartment appropriated by the three lovers.

Here I found the manager, and a hasty discussion took place. It appeared that the tall lover was just five feet six in his boots, while his companion lover (who was to walk between his legs) was only two inches Shorter; therefore my grand comic scene would be spoilt. But fortune favoured me. By a lucky chance a splendid idea struck the manager-the giant in the last pantomime had worn a pair of boots with soles 12 inches thick, and with little trouble the legs of my tall lover were encased in these, so when he stood on his toes his short friend, by stooping just a little, was able to walk under his legs. I must say he was rather shaky, while he stamped enough for a whole brigade.

This was not all. As a very thin man had to play the part of a stout lover, some extra thick padding had been ordered; this had never turned up, and now, within half an hour of the rising of the curtain, he was a perfect bag of bones. However, the manager again was equal to the occasion. Two pillows, and the same number of bolsters, were procured from a neighbouring hotel, and in these pillows the amorous one's legs were firmly stitched, while the two bolsters were tied round his meagre body. After this his spacious suit exactly fitted him; and as the band concluded the last strain of the overture all my dramatis personae were perfect both in dress and make-up.

I am sure the first act of my play (which was a pretty garden scene, with Sluggins's house at the side) went off very well. There were only three hitches, and those three I will endeavour to relate. The foolish Sluggins, in his huste to make-up, had only put on one side of his moustache, and had stuck the other side on his chin as an imperial. At this the audience called loudly for the "author," who declined to appear. It is quite fair that an author should share an actor's triumphs, but he ought not to be accountable for his indiscretion and failures.

Again, one of the best scenes in my play was spoiled by the stupidity of the property manager, who had placed rickety garden chair on the stage, and when the virtuous Sluggins and his four wives all sat down on this seat (two wives on each of his knees) it gave way and precipitated them all on the stage, to the great enjoyment of the audience.

My poor unfortunate heroine wore a crinoline, as she was supposed to live in a time when they were fashionable. In falling on her knees this crinoline, instead of remaining round her waist, flew up under her arms and there remained, and this fact was first revealed to the audience when she rose, and exhibited more of her legs than modesty would have deemed expedient. The catastrophe of the falling of the chair did no other injury to the other wives than a severe shaking, but poor Sluggins was more unfortunate, as they all fell on him, and nearly squashed him with their ponderous weights.

The third mishap occurred when the short lover endeavoured to walk between the tall one's legs. Whether the tall man was fatigued by his big boots and with standing so long on his toes, or his short friend pushed against him, I cannot say, but he fell all his length on the stage, and, coming into contact with the side of the house in which the virtuous Sluggins and his wives resided, and which, as I said before, had been splendidly depicted by the scene-painter), he demolished it with a crash, and the débris was scattered over the stage. These were but trifling incidents, and the scena fell upon a splendid climax with the three wives in their respective lovers' arms, Sluggins supporting his virtuous spouse, and the villain scowling at the back-in fact, he scowled so vigorously that he scowled both his eyebrows off.

In response to the cries of “The author," I modestly appeared before the curtain and made a short speech. I was too great a man to begin “Ladies and gentlemen," so I said :

“My friends, -I am sincerely obligated for your kind condescension in proprogating the great success which has attended my drama. In fact, I cannot recapitulate my beneficent pleasure and felicitous pride in my creation, but I thank you very much.”

This speech was one of the principal marks against which the critics' darts were levelled. I was described as a conceited ass, who could not speak the Queen's English.

The audience took it in a better part. I know it is not etiquette to present a bouquet of flowers to an author, but still I don't believe fruit is the correct substitute, and I think that the pit and gallery might have been more gentle in proffering me the numerous apples, &c., which they showered upon me, and as many of them hit me on the face I was compelled to beat a hasty retreat; but it was all their good nature nothing else.

The next soene was a great success, and the four rooms looked splendid; but, as the stage was rather narrow, two yards was the utmost width we could allow for each room. It was rather annoying that two of the partitions should collapse in the midst of a most tragic scene, and also that my fat lover, on being shot, should fall with a heavy flop instead of a melodramatic crash, but this was owing to the pillows in which he was encased. It was also annoying that he should burst his pillows in the fall, for when he arose it was in a perfect “cloud of feathers.”

In the third act, the "waterfall ” scene, the tap somehow or other got wrong, and flooded all the stage, nearly drowning the wretched band of musicians. The grand eruption of Vesuvius in the fourth act was marred by the scenery catching fire, but the curtain descended on a very realistic scene, the stage being one mass of flame. In fact, so fierce was the fire that the beautiful locks of my villain were all singed off, much to his own discomfort. These are but trifling incidents, and the remaining act went off very well. Sluggins, too, knew his part better, and only had to be prompted three times.

When I appeared before the curtain at the close of the fifth act I was compelled to retire, quite overwhelmed -with cabbages; and as I was driving away the horse was taken out of my cab and I was drawn home by the mob with my glories thick upon me.

For the remainder of the week my play held the stage, the theatre being crowded every night, and at length it was withdrawn owing to the strike of the band, who positively refused to play under the continual shower of missiles which the good-natured "gods” nightly favoured me with.The manager declared that it was the most lucrative play he had ever put on the stage, but I had to be content with the honour as my share of the proceeds.

And after all this my play was "damned.” And why? Because of the jealousy of the critics, nothing else--unless it is the ignorance of the inhabitants of Salbey.

For weeks afterwards I never appeared in the streets without attracting a tremendous crowd. I never went to my club without being an object of general ridicule ; and this is what made me leave the world of literature to others; but I always console myself with this thought, that there was nothing that ever took place in the town which caused half as much excitement and amusement as "My First Play!”

H. W. BLEACKLEY. Myrtle-grove, Prestwich.