Joseph Grimaldi

1816 to 1817.

He quits Sadler's Wells in consequence of a disagreement with the Proprietors—Lord Byron—Retirement of John Kemble—Immense success of Grimaldi in the Provinces, and his great Gains—A scene in a Barber's Shop.

At Sadler's Wells the principal novelty of the season of 1816 was a very successful melodrama called "Philip and his Dog." During a period of thirty-eight years, that is to say from 1782[67] to 1820 inclusive, Grimaldi was never absent from Sadler's Wells, except for one season. The cause of his non-engagement in 1817 was this:—His former articles expiring a few days before the close of the previous season, he received a note from Mr. Charles Dibdin, requesting to know upon what terms he would be disposed to renew them. He replied, that they had only to make the pounds[68] guineas, and he would be content. There was no objection to this proposition, but he was informed that the proprietors had arrived at the resolution of no longer allowing him two benefits in each year, and of permitting him in future to take only one. He considered this a very arbitrary and unjust proceeding. As he had never under any circumstances cleared less than 150l. from a benefit, this reduction necessarily involved the diminution of his yearly income by a large sum; and as he paid 60l. for the house on every such occasion, which was probably more than it would otherwise have had in it, he did not think that the proprietors could urge any just reason for proposing the alteration. After considering these points, he wrote to Mr. Charles Dibdin, at that time a proprietor himself, that he could on no consideration give up either of his accustomed benefits. To this note he received no reply, but he confidently expected that they would not attempt a season without him, he being at that time unquestionably the lion of the theatre, and certainly drawing money to the house. He was, however, deceived, for he heard no more from Mr. Charles Dibdin, and eventually learned that Paulo was engaged in his place.

In the November of this year he made a little excursion of four days to Brighton, the theatre of which town belonged to Mr. John Brunton, who was likewise an actor, and a very good one too, at Covent Garden. This gentleman was the father of one of our best modern actresses Mrs. Yates, whose talents are so well and so deservedly appreciated. He was always a kind friend to Grimaldi, and had no cause to accuse him of ingratitude.

At Brighton they played "Valentine and Orson," "Robinson Crusoe," &c., in which Brunton, who was well acquainted with pantomime and melodrama, acted Farley's parts, while Grimaldi, of course, sustained his original characters. They were very successful indeed, Grimaldi receiving 100l. for his remuneration, with which, as will be readily supposed, he was perfectly well satisfied.

At this time he repeatedly met with Lord Byron, not only at Covent Garden, but at various private parties to which he was invited; and eventually they became very good friends. Lord Byron was, as all the world knows, an eccentric man, and he loses nothing of the character in Grimaldi's hands.

"Sometimes," he says, "his lordship appeared lost in deep melancholy, and when that was the case, really looked the picture of despair, for his face was highly capable of expressing profound grief; at other times he was very lively, chatting with great spirit and vivacity; and then occasionally he would be a complete fop, exhibiting his white hands and teeth with an almost ludicrous degree of affectation. But whether 'grave or gay, lively or severe,' his bitter, biting sarcasm never was omitted or forgotten."

It never fell to Grimaldi's lot to hear any person say such severe things as Byron accustomed himself to utter, and they tended not a little to increase the awe with which, upon their first interview, he had been predisposed to regard him. As to Grimaldi himself, Byron invariably acted towards him with much condescension and good humour, frequently conversing with him for hours together; and when the business of the evening called him away, he would wait at the "wings" for him, and as soon as he came off the stage, recommence the conversation where it had been broken off. Grimaldi rarely contradicted him, fearing to draw down upon himself the sarcasms which he constantly heard fulminated against others; and when they spoke on subjects with Byron's opinions upon which he was unacquainted, he cautiously endeavoured to ascertain them before he ventured to give his own, fearing, as he felt so very warmly upon most questions, that he might chance to dissent from him upon one in which he took great interest.

Before Lord Byron left England upon the expedition whence he was destined to return no more, he presented Grimaldi, as a token, he said, of his regard, with a valuable silver snuff-box,[69] around which was the inscription, "The gift of Lord Byron to Joseph Grimaldi." It was of course preserved with the most scrupulous care, and valued more highly than any article in his possession. It is but an act of justice to both parties to say, that Lord Byron always treated him with the greatest liberality. In 1808, when he saw him act for the first time, he sent a message to his residence, requesting that he would always forward to him one box ticket whenever he took a benefit. This he regularly did, and in return invariably received on the following day a five-pound note.

"Harlequin Gulliver, or the Flying Island," which was the pantomime of the year at Covent Garden, was so successful as to be played sixty-three nights before Easter. On the 30th of March, a piece, under the title of "The Marquis de Carabbas, or Puss in Boots," was produced, and utterly failed. It was a very poor affair, was only played one night, and appears to have fully deserved its fate.

On the same night Sadler's Wells commenced its season, upon which occasion the unexpected absence of Grimaldi occasioned quite a commotion among the Audience. He had said nothing about it himself, nor was the circumstance known to the public until the bills were put forth, when the announcement of Paulo's engagement and Grimaldi's secession occasioned much surprise and some manifestation of feeling. Grimaldi had been spending a few days at Egham; and upon his return to town, towards the latter end of March, was not a little amazed to see the walls in the neighbourhood of his house in Spa-fields completely covered with placards emanating from the rival parties, some bearing the words "Joey for ever!" others displaying "No Paulo!" and others, again, "No Grimaldi!" It was supposed by some that Grimaldi himself had a hand in the distribution of these bills; but he solemnly denied it, declaring that he never saw or heard anything of them until they were paraded upon the walls on his return to town.

The theatre opened with "Philip and his Dog," and a new harlequinade, called "April Fools, or Months and Mummery." Being informed that it was Dibdin's intention, if any disturbance occurred in consequence of his absence, to address the house, and state that it had resulted from Grimaldi's express wish, he went to the boxes on the opening night, determined, if any such statement were made, to address the audience from his place, and explain the circumstances under which he had left the theatre. He was spared this very disagreeable task, however, no other expression of public feeling taking place except that which is of all others most sensibly and acutely felt by a manager the people stayed away. Instead of every seat being taken, and standing-places eagerly secured, as had formerly been the case, the theatre was not a quarter filled. There were only forty persons, and these principally friends of the proprietors, in the boxes; not more than a hundred in the pit, and the gallery was not half full. Grimaldi stayed only the first act of the first piece, and then, seeing no probability of being called for, walked away to Covent Garden, to dress for "Puss in Boots," the untimely fate of which has been already recorded.

The next morning, the newspapers, one and all, made known Grimaldi's absence from Sadler's Wells, and regretted it as a circumstance which could not fail to prove very injurious to the interests of the theatre. They did this without decrying the merits of Paulo, who was really a very good Clown, but who laboured under the double disadvantage of not being known at Sadler's Wells, and of following in the wake of one who had been a great favourite there for so many years.

Grimaldi's non-engagement at Sadler's Wells was no sooner made known, than the provincial managers vied with each other in their endeavours to secure him. Mr. W. Murray, the manager of the Edinburgh and Glasgow Theatres, offered him an engagement at each for six nights when Covent Garden closed, which he immediately accepted. The terms were these:—Grimaldi was to have the best night's receipts out of each six, Murray the second best, and the other four to be equally divided between them, deducting forty pounds for expenses. He had no sooner closed with this proprietor than he was waited upon by Mr. Knight, of the Manchester and Liverpool Theatres, who offered him an engagement for three weeks, into which he also entered. There then followed such a long list of offers, that if he had had twelve months at his disposal instead of six weeks, they would have occupied the whole time. Many of these offers were of the most handsome and liberal nature; and it was with great regret that he was compelled to decline them.

As there was nothing for Grimaldi to do at Covent Garden, in consequence of the early decease of "Puss in Boots," he accepted an overture from Mr. Brunton, who was the lessee of the Birmingham Theatre, for himself and his son, to act there for seven nights. It was the son's first provincial excursion, and the profits were somewhere about two hundred pounds. He took Worcester in his way on his return, and agreed, at the pressing request of Mr. Crisp, the manager, to stop and play there one night. He offered forty pounds down, or a fair division of the receipts. Grimaldi chose the former terms, acted Scaramouch to a very crowded house, sang several songs, and finished with a little pantomime in which he and his son were Clowns. He supped with the manager, who, at the conclusion of the meal, presented him with a fifty-pound note, saying, if he would accept that sum in lieu of the one agreed upon, it was heartily at his service, and he (the manager) would still be a great gainer by the transaction. This liberal treatment gave him a very favourable impression of the Worcester manager, whom he assured, that, should he ever be in that part of the country again, he would not fail to communicate with him. The next day, father and son both returned to town, when the former had the satisfaction of hearing that he had not been wanted at Covent Garden. He found several letters from provincial managers offering great terms; but as he was obliged to be in London at the opening of Covent Garden, and the theatres to which they related did not lie anywhere in his route from Edinburgh to Liverpool, he had no option but to decline these proposals.

On the 23rd of June, in this year, John Kemble took his final leave of the stage, the entertainments being "Coriolanus," and "The Portrait of Cervantes." At the conclusion of the play, in which he had sustained the chief part with all his wonted dignity and grace, Kemble spoke a brief address, in which he took his farewell of the public, whom he had so long delighted. A white satin scarf with a wreath was thrown from the boxes, which falling short, lighted in the orchestra; upon which M. Talma, the French tragedian, who was sitting there, instantly rose from his seat and placed it on the stage, amidst thunders of applause.

Grimaldi appeared but seldom during the remainder of the season at Covent Garden, which closed on the 2nd of July. On the following day he left London for Scotland. When he reached Edinburgh, he was not a little surprised to hear from Mr. Murray, that in consequence of Emery being engaged to play at Glasgow, he should be obliged to limit his (Grimaldi's) nights there to three instead of six, as agreed upon. This very much surprised him; but as there was no help for it, he acquiesced with a good grace, and left Edinburgh immediately for Glasgow, where he was to act on the following night. It chanced that it was Sunday, a day on which the common stage coaches do not run in Scotland, and he therefore took a post-chaise, which was eleven hours and a half performing the distance, or about double the time in which he could have walked it with ease.

"Whittington," "Don Juan," "Valentine and Orson," and "The Rivals," were the pieces acted at Glasgow. In the first three his son performed with him; in the latter he played Acres, and was very well received. He played this part throughout his provincial trips, and always to the perfect satisfaction and amusement of the audience. He never played Richard the Third in the provinces, as has been represented, but limited his performance of characters out of pantomime or melodrama, to Acres, Moll Flaggon, and one other part.

When Grimaldi had finished at Glasgow, he joined the company at Edinburgh, where he played Acres twice. The song of Tippitywitchet took amazingly with the gude folks of Auld Reekie, and both he and his son were received with great kindness and favour.

On the day after the completion of the engagement, Mr. Murray called at Grimaldi's lodgings, and wrote him a cheque for 417l. as his share, concluding by inviting him to pay him a similar visit during the following summer. The next morning he went to the bank to get his cheque cashed, when he was told that he could only receive Edinburgh notes, which were not payable out of Scotland, unless he consented to pay five per cent, for the accommodation. He was very loth to accept the one or pay the other; which the banker perceiving, told him that he happened to have a Bank-stock English note, payable forty days after sight, for 400l., which he could let him have. Not being short of cash, he accepted this, and received the 17l. balance in Scotch notes.

On the 22nd, Grimaldi left Edinburgh for Berwick, where he had promised to play for two nights, and where he came out the following evening. He was greatly amazed when he saw the theatre at this town: it was situated up a stable yard, in a loft, to reach which it was necessary to climb two flights of stairs, the whole entrance being mean and dirty, and, to ladies especially, particularly disagreeable. But his surprise was far from being confined to the exterior of the theatre: on the contrary, when he surveyed its interior, and found it neat and complete, perfect in its appointments, and even stylish in its decorations, his amazement was increased. It was still further augmented by the appearance and manner of the audience to which he played in the evening, for he had never by any chance acted (taking the size of the building into consideration) to a more fashionable and brilliant box-company.

The second night was as good as the first, and he received for his exertions 92l. 7s. On this evening he supped with the manager, and during their meal the servant brought in a letter directed to Grimaldi, which had just been left at the door by a footman in livery, who, after delivering it, had immediately walked away. He broke the seal, and read as follows:

"Sir,—Accept the enclosed as a reward of your merit, and the entertainment we have received from you this evening.

"A Friend.

"Thursday, July 24th, 1817."

The "inclosed" alluded to by the writer was a bank note for 50l.!

Next day Grimaldi bade adieu to Berwick, and went direct to Liverpool, where he made his first appearance on the 30th; and here, according to previous arrangement, he remained three weeks. His salary was to be 12l. per week, with half a clear benefit, or the whole house for 40l., which he chose.

As the night fixed upon for his benefit (which was the last of his engagement) drew nigh, he began anxiously to deliberate whether he should speculate in the "whole house," or not. He had no friends or acquaintances in Liverpool to assist him, but, on the other hand, he had made a tremendous hit; so, not being able to decide himself, he called in the aid of his friends, Emery, Blanchard, and Jack Johnstone, who chanced to be there at the time, and requested their advice how he should proceed. With one accord they advised him to venture upon taking the house, which he, adopting their advice, forthwith did, paying down his 40l., however, with many doubts as to the result. He lost no time in making out his bill, and getting it printed. The play was "The Rivals," in which he acted Acres, and the afterpiece the pantomime of "Harlequin's Olio," in which his son was to appear as Flipflap, a kind of attendant upon harlequin, and he as the clown.

Several days elapsed, but nothing betokening a good benefit presented itself, and Grimaldi began to suspect it would turn out a complete failure. On the morning of the very day he had sold only fourteen tickets, and walked to the theatre with rather downcast spirits. At the box door he met Mr. Banks, one of the managers, who addressed him with,

"Well, Joe, a precious benefit you will have!"

"So I expect," he answered, with a sigh.

"Have you looked at the box-book?" inquired the manager, with a slight degree of surprise in his manner.

"No," said Grimaldi; "I really am afraid to do so."

"Afraid!" echoed the manager; "upon my word, Mr. Grimaldi, I don't know what you would have, or what you are afraid of. Every seat in the boxes is taken; and if there had been more, they would have been let."

Hastening to the box-office, Grimaldi found that this good news was perfectly correct. His benefit, which took place on the 20th August, produced the greatest receipts ever known in that theatre: the sum taken was 328l. 14s., being 1l. more than was received at Miss O'Neil's benefit (who was a wonderful favourite in the town), and beating John Emery's by 5l. He cleared upwards of 280l., by following the advice of his friends; upon the strength of which they all dined together next day, and made very merry.

Many offers from other theatres came pouring in, but Grimaldi only accepted two: one to act at Preston, and the other to play four nights at Hereford for Mr. Crisp, for whom he naturally entertained very friendly feelings, remembering the courteous and handsome manner in which he had treated him at Worcester.

Two days after his great benefit, Grimaldi travelled over to Preston, to fulfil his engagement with Mr. Howard, the manager, but was very much dispirited by the number of Quakers whom he saw walking about the streets, and whose presence in such numbers caused him to entertain great doubts of the success of this trip. The manager, however, was more sanguine, and, as it afterwards appeared, with good reason. He played Acres and Scaramouch to full houses, the receipts on the first night being 84l., and on the second 87l. 16s. His share of the joint receipts was 86l., with which sum, as it far exceeded his expectations, he was well contented.

On the second day after Grimaldi's arrival in Preston, a little circumstance occurred, which amused him so much, that he intended to have introduced it in one of his pantomime scenes, although he never did so. He was walking along the street by the market-place, when, observing a barber's pole projecting over the pavement, and recollecting that he wanted shaving, he opened the shop-door, from above which hung the pole, and looking into the shop, saw a pretty little girl, about sixteen years of age, who was sitting at needlework. She rose to receive him, and he inquired if the master was within.

"No, sir," said the girl; "but I expect him directly."

"Very good," replied Grimaldi: "I want to look about me a little; I'll call again."

After strolling through the market-place a little while, he called again, but the barber had not come home. Grimaldi was walking down the street after this second unsuccessful call, when he encountered Mr. Howard, the manager, with whom he fell into conversation, and they walked up and down the street talking together. As he was going to the theatre, and wished Grimaldi to accompany him, they turned in that direction, and passing the barbers shop, again looked in. The girl was still sitting at work; but she laid it aside when the visitors entered, and said she really was very sorry, but her father had not come in yet.

"That's very provoking," said Grimaldi, "considering that I have called here three times already."

The girl agreed that it was, and, stepping to the door, looked anxiously up the street and down the street, but there was no barber in sight.

"Do you want to see him on any particular business?" inquired Howard.

"Bless my heart! no, not I," said Grimaldi: "I only want to be shaved."

"Shaved, sir!" cried the girl. "Oh, dear me! what a pity it is you did not say so before! for I do most of the shaving for father when he's at home, and all when he's out."

"To be sure she does," said Howard; "I have been shaved by her fifty times."

"You have!" said Grimaldi. "Oh, I'm sure I have no objection. I am quite ready, my dear."

Grimaldi sat himself down in a chair, and the girl commenced the task in a very business-like manner, Grimaldi feeling an irresistible tendency to laugh at the oddity of the operation, but smothering it by dint of great efforts while the girl was shaving his chin. At length, when she got to his upper lip, and took his nose between her fingers with a piece of brown paper, he could stand it no longer, but burst into a tremendous roar of laughter, and made a face at Howard, which the girl no sooner saw than she dropped the razor and laughed immoderately also; whereat Howard began to laugh too, which only set Grimaldi laughing more; when just at this moment in came the barber, who, seeing three people in convulsions of mirth, one of them with a soapy face and a gigantic mouth making the most extravagant faces over a white towel, threw himself into a chair without ceremony, and dashing his hat on the ground, laughed louder than any of them, declaring in broken words as he could find breath to utter them, that "that gentleman as was being shaved, was out of sight the funniest gentleman he had ever seen," and entreating him to "stop them faces, or he knew he should die." When they were all perfectly exhausted, the barber finished what his daughter had begun; and rewarding the girl with a shilling, Grimaldi and the manager took their leaves.

Having settled at the theatre, received his money, and made several purchases in the town, (for he always spent a per-centage in every place where he had been successful,) Grimaldi returned to Liverpool on the 24th of August.