"There exists," says Mr. John Wilson, "as it were a talismanic influence in
regard to the most trivial circumstances connected with Shakspeare," and
yet this enthusiast has not, in his _Shaksperiana_, alluded to the dramatic
works of Mary Hornby, written under, and dated from, the _dear_ old roof at
Stratford-upon-Avon!
It was my late good fortune, after filling my pockets from the twopenny
boxes of the suburban bookstalls, to find, on turning out the heterogeneous
contents, that I had accidentally become possessed of _The Broken Vow_, a
comedy by the aforesaid lady, who waits to be enrolled in that much wanted
book, a new edition of the _Biographia Dramatica_. This _Broken Bow_ which
looks like a re-cooking of the _Merry Miller_ of Thomas Sadler, 1766, bears
to be "printed at Stratford-upon-Avon, for the Author, by W. Barnacle,
1820." Mary Hornby, following the example of the _preoccupier of the
butcher's shop_, tries her hand at both tragedy and comedy; in the first
line she stands charged with the perpetration of _The Battle of Waterloo_,
which, I doubt not, rivalled its original enactment in its _sanguinary_
character. I have not been lucky enough to fall in with this, which was a
_hit_; our fair authoress, in her preface to the comedy under notice,
modestly attributing its great success more to the kindness of her friends
than to its literary merit.
Mrs. Hornby sustains the dignity of the drama by adhering to her five acts,
with prologue and epilogue according to prescription. Looking to the
prologue for the _who_, the _why_, and the _wherefore_, I am sorry to say I
find no materials for the concoction of a biographical note; upon the
second point, the _why_, she tells us:
"When women teem, be it with bad or good,
They must bring forth--forsooth 'tis right they should,
But to produce a bantling of the brain,
Hard is the task, and oft the labour vain."
That her literary _accouchement_ should not be a failure, she further says:
"Lord, how I've bother'd all the gods and graces,
Who patronize _some_ mortals, in such cases."
I take the expressive use of the word "some" here to indicate her
predecessor, the ancient occupier of the tenement, who certainly was a
_protégé_ of the said parties.
Mrs. Hornby then goes on to relate how that during her _gestation_ she
invoked Apollo, Thalia, and Erato:
"Soon they arrived, with Hermes at their side,
By Jove commission'd, as their friend and guide.
But when the mirth-inspiring dames stepp'd o'er
The sacred threshold of _great Shakspeare's door_,
The heav'nly guests, _who came to laugh with me_,
Oppress'd with grief, wept with _Melpomene_;
Bow'd pensive o'er the Bard of Nature's tomb,
Dropt a sad tear, then left me to my doom!"
I leave the reader to judge for himself whether the Muses really "came to
laugh" with Mary Hornby, or whether, under the belief of the immortality of
our Bard, they did not rather expect a pleasant _soirée_ with Gentle Will,
and naturally enough went off in a huff when they found themselves
inveigled into a tea-party at Mrs. Hornby's.
Mr. Wilson, in the work above quoted, does condescend to notice Mrs.
Hornby,--
"Who rented the butcher's shop under the chamber in which the poet was
born, and kept the _Shaksperian Album_, an interesting record of the
visitors to that shrine. Some of the subscribers having given vent to
original stanzas suggested by the scene, those effusions," continues
the lofty bookseller, "_the female in question_ caused to be inscribed
and printed in a small pamphlet, which she sells to strangers."
Not a word, you will see, about the poet's mantle having descended upon the
shoulders of our Mary,--which was unpolite of him, seeing that both the
tragedy and comedy had the precedence of his book by some years. Not having
before me the later history of Shakspeare's house, I am unable to say
whether our subject deserved more consideration and gallant treatment at
the hands of MR. COLLIER, when he and his colleagues came into possession.