TO THE READER
Many erroneous assertions have been made respecting this Drama; some that the language was originally extremely licentious; others, that the sentiments were violently democratic; and others again, that if Mr. Sheridan had not advised me to content myself with a single Spectre, I meant to have exhibited a whole regiment of Ghosts. To disprove these reports I have deviated from the usual mode of publishing Plays, as performed, and have printed mine almost verbatim, as originally written. Whether it merited the above accusations, the reader has now had an opportunity of judging for himself. I must just mention that the last line of the Piece is altered, and that in the Second Scene of the Fifth Act, The Friar was made to stick in the door-way, whereas he now makes his exit without difficulty.
Other charges, however, have been brought against me on better grounds, and I must request the reader's patience while I say a few words respecting them. To originality of character I make no pretence. Persecuted heroines and conscience-stung villains certainly have made their courtesies and bows to a British audience long before the appearance of ‘The Castle Spectre’; the Friar and Alice are copies, but very faint ones, from Juliet's Nurse, and Sheridan's Father Paul, and Percy is a mighty pretty-behaved young gentleman with nearly no character at all. I shall not so readily give up my claim to novelty, when I mention my misanthropic Negro. He has been compared to Zanga; but Young's Hero differs widely from what I meant in Hassan. Zanga's hatred is confined to one object; to destroy the happiness of that object is [101] his sole aim, and his vengeance is no sooner accomplished, than he repents its gratification. Hassan is a man of violent passions, and warm feelings, whose bosom is filled with the milk of human kindness, but that milk is soured by despair; whose nature was susceptible of the tenderest affections, but who feels that all the chains of his affections are broken for ever. He has lost every thing, even hope; he has no single object against which he can direct his vengeance, and he directs it at large against mankind. He hates all the world, hates even himself; for he feels that in the world there is no one that loves him
‘Lorsque l'on peut souffrir, sure que ses douleursBut though Hassan's heart is changed by disappointment and misfortune, that heart once was feeling and kind; nor could he hate with such inveteracy, if he had not loved with extreme affection. In my opinion this character is not Zanga's; but this I must leave to the public decision. I may, however, boldly, and without vanity, assert, that Motley is quite new to the Stage. In other plays the Fool has always been a sharp knave, quick in repartee, and full of whim, fancy, and entertainment; whereas my Fool (but I own I did not mean to make him so) is a dull, flat, good sort of plain matter of fact fellow, as in the course of the performance Mr. Bannister discovered to his great sorrow.
‘D'aucun mortel ne font jamais couler les pleurs,
‘On se desinteresse à la fin de soi-même;
‘On cesse de s'aimer, si quelqu'un ne nous aime!’
That Osmond is attended by Negroes is an anachronism, I allow; but from the great applause which Mr. Dowton constantly received in Hassan (a character which he played extremely well), I am inclined to think that the audience was not greatly offended at the impropriety. For my own part, I by no means repent the introduction of my Africans: I [102] thought it would give a pleasing variety to the characters and dresses, if I made my servants black; and could I have produced the same effect by making my heroine blue, blue I should have made her.
In the Friar's defence, when he most ungallantly leaves Angela in the cavern to shift for herself, I can only plead the necessity of the case. Stay where he was he could not; go he must at any rate: I trundled him off in the best way that I could; and, for the sake of the public, I heartily wish that way had been better. With regard to his not meeting Osmond in his flight, a little imagination will soon conquer that difficulty. It may be supposed, that as he lost his way in coming, he lost it again in going; or, that he concealed himself till the Earl had passed him; or, that he tumbled down and broke his neck; or, that he….did any thing else you like better. I leave this matter entirely to the reader's fancy.
Against my Spectre many objections have been urged: one of them I think
rather curious. She ought not to appear, because the belief in Ghosts
no longer exists! In my opinion, that is the very reason why she
may be produced without danger; for there is now no fear of increasing
the influence of superstition, or strengthening the prejudices of the weak-minded.
I confess I cannot see any reason why Apparitions may not be as well permitted
to stalk in a tragedy, as Fairies be suffered to fly in a pantomime, or
Heathen Gods and Goddesses to cut capers in a grand ballet; and I should
rather imagine that Oberon and Bacchus now find as little credit to the
full as the Cock-lane Ghost, or the Spectre of Mrs. Veal.
Never was any poor soul so ill-used as Evelina's, previous to her presenting
herself before the audience. The Friends to whom I read my Drama,
the Managers to whom I presented it, the Actors who were to perform in
it—all combined to persecute my Spectre, and requested me to confine my
Ghost to [103] the Green-Room. Aware that without her my catastrophe would
closely resemble that of the Grecian Daughter, I persisted in retaining
her. The event justified my obstinacy: The Spectre was as well treated
before the curtain as she had been ill-used behind it; and as she continues
to make her appearance nightly with increased applause, I think myself
under great obligations both to her and her representative.
But though I am conscious that it is very imperfect, I shall not so
far offend my own feelings, or insult the judgment of the public, which
has given it a very favourable reception, as to say that I think my Play
very bad. Had such been my opinion, instead of producing it on the
stage, or committing it to the press, I should have put it behind the fire,
or, throwing it into the Thames, made a present of it to the British Scombri.
Still its success on the stage (great enough to content even an author)
does not prevent my being very doubtful as to its reception in the closet,
when divested of its beautiful music, splendid scenery, and, above all,
of the acting, excellent throughout. Without detracting from the
merits of the other performers (to all of whom I think myself much indebted
for their respective exertions), I must here be permitted to return particular
thanks to Mrs. Jordan, whose manner of sustaining her character exceeded
my most sanguine hopes, and in whose hands my heroine acquired an importance
for which she was entirely indebted to the talents of the actress.
M.G. LEWIS.