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 150_l._ from
a benefit, this reduction necessarily involved the diminution of his
yearly income by a large sum; and as he paid 60_l._ 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
100_l._ 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 417_l._ 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 400_l._, which he could let him have. Not being short of
cash, he accepted this, and received the 17_l._ 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 92_l._ 7_s._ 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 50_l._!
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 12_l._ per week, with half a clear benefit, or the whole house for
40_l._, 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 40_l._, 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 328_l._ 14_s._, being 1_l._ more than was received at
Miss O'Neil's benefit (who was a wonderful favourite in the town),
and beating John Emery's by 5_l._ He cleared upwards of 280_l._, 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 84_l._, and on the second 87_l._ 16_s._ His share of the
joint receipts was 86_l._, 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.
[Illustration: George Cruikshank
_The Barber's Shop._]
FOOTNOTES:
[67] Joe made his _début_ on the stage, at Sadler's Wells, on Easter
Monday, 1781.
[68] Grimaldi's salary at this time was twelve pounds, but the
determination of not allowing him the second benefit was the cause of
his absence from the Wells in 1817.
[69] Mrs. Bryan, Joe's legatee, possesses this snuff-box.