One of my recent blog themes has been offstagers or individuals who worked behind the theatrical scenes in the 18th and 19th centuries. I am keen to find examples that enlighten us and illustrate the nature of their work as it was some 250 years ago. This morning, while reading the memoirs of John O’Keeffe over breakfast, I found his character sketches of various performers and individuals connected with the theatre. These poetical works focusing on performers were fairly numerous in the 18th century, I can think of one example off the top of my head: The Children of Thespis by Anthony Pasquin. Shorter versions appeared in newspapers like the Morning Chronicle as odes to the adored by the adoring (if Tumblr had been around then, I am sure the Georgian poets would have subscribed), but few ever made their leading subject an offstager!
O’Keeffe is fairly unique in this respect and comes across as a very likeable chap; his memoirs are some of the best I have ever read. We should be thankful to him for delineating the prompter’s profession in what amounts to nothing more than a few verses:
Say, who conducts that grand superb machine,
By which three Muses, loveliest of the Nine,
With pen and pencil, and with voice, combine
To charm, delight, —himself the while unseen:
Not like Italian Opera prompting chap.
Who thrusts his pate and snuff-box. up the trap;
Our English prompter keeps beside the scene.
The play received, by manager ’tis cast:
Aloud in green-room to performers read,
Each keeps his eye upon his part — nought said.
Rehearsal’s call’d, and, from the first to last,
The prompter on the stage at table sits:
He vers’d in works of great and little wits,
What safe and dangerous can with art contrast.
Thro’ dressing-rooms is heard the warning call,
“First music, gentlemen ; first music, ladies:”
“Third music!” that’s the notice to appal;
Like summons from Lord Mayor, or huffing cadies*:
The call-boy is this herald’s appellation.
The curtain up, the prompter takes his station.
Tis not alone with art to throw the word,
If actors in their parts should make a stand;
To prompter many duties more belong,
Than biding at the wing with book in hand.
Of their go-off, come on, he points the sides.
By margin letters of P. S. O. P.
Stage properties, stage business, music, band,
Of stage arcana prompter keeps the key.
He writes the playbills out, pens paragraphs,
Marks forfeits down for every stage neglect.
The audience gone, he, ere the lights are out.
Of all new scenes tries every new effect;
And, from eleven o’clock, perhaps till three.
He in his duty all that time must spend ;
And then from six to twelve o’clock at night,
Upon the stage the Prompter must attend.
Though folks who come and pay to be amused,
Have with such petty trifles no concern.
The wisest of us all more wise may be.
And all must be more wise the more they learn.
This Prompter Wilde, no stir, no bustle made,
By gentle means did all he had to do;
With diligence his task he well perform’d.
And prompted of my plays just forty-two.
As thro’ the churchyard, walking with his friend,
That friend was Palmer, Liverpool the town,
Each chose his grave, and awful was the choice.
Fate gave the word. Death rang the curtain down.
Recollections of the Life of John O’Keeffe: In Two Volumes, Volume 2
James Wild was prompter at Covent Garden for twenty-seven years and died at Liverpool in 1801. This paragraph from the Gentleman’s Magazine of the same year explains O’Keeffe’s final verse: ‘Mr. W. had often expressed a desire of closing his days at Liverpool, and had chosen a spot of ground in which he wished to be buried. The place, we understand, was in the churchyard in which Palmer, the late excellent actor of Drury-lane theatre, was interred. It is somewhat singular that his wishes in this respect should have been gratified; his remains were deposited in the selected spot, and the ceremony was attended by a great number of the theatrical corps, as well as by many private friends, whom his social, intelligent, and manly qualities had attached.’
