from Easter, 1772, till the close of the season, 1782; when, on Sheridan's resignation as manager of Drury Lane, King succeeded him in September, 1782, and relinquished the management of Sadler's Wells to Wroughton, whose term commenced at Easter, 1783. We have already explained that Joe's father was not employed at Sadler's Wells in 1781; and yet, perhaps in consideration of Master and Miss, Signor Grimaldi had a benefit at that theatre, on Thursday, September 12, 1782; the usual diversions were announced, but he did not take any part in the business of the evening. The bills announced, "Tickets and Places to be had only of Mr. Grimaldi, at No. 5, Princes Street, Drury Lane, and opposite Sadler's Wells Gate." Signor Placido's night followed on Monday, September 16, when, with other new amusements, was introduced "A new Pantomime Dance, for the first time, called 'The Woodcutter; or, the Lucky Mischance,' characters by Mr. Dupuis, then principal dancer at the Wells, Mr. Meunier, Mr. Grimaldi, Mrs. Sutton, Signor Placido, and the Little Devil, being their first Pantomimical performance in this kingdom." This was the only appearance of Signor Grimaldi at the Wells in 1782; for which, possibly, he was paid by Placido.
Young Joe's introduction to Sadler's Wells, in 1781, as also the benefit here noticed, in 1782, were kindnesses probably rendered to Grimaldi by Tom King, during the last two years of his management.
Reynolds, the dramatist, was wont to relate a droll story of the Signor, which may not improperly be told here. "Walking one day in Pall Mall with Tom King, we met the celebrated clown, Grimaldi, father of Joe Grimaldi, approaching us with a face of the most ludicrous astonishment and delight, when he exclaimed: 'Oh, vatt a clevare fellow dat Sheridan is!—shall I tell you?—oui—yes; I vill, bien donc. I could no nevare see him at de theatre, so je vais chez lui, to his house in Hertford-street, muffled in de great coat, and I say, 'Domestique!—you hear?' 'Yes, Sare.' 'Vell, den, tell your master, dat Mistare—you know, de Mayor of Stafford be below.' Domestique fly; and on de instant I vas shown into de drawing-room. In von more minuet, Sheridan leave his dinner party, enter de room hastily—stop suddenly, and say, 'How dare you, Grim, play me such a trick?' Then putting himself into von grand passion, he go on: 'Go, Sare!—get out of my house!' 'Begar,' say I, placing my back against de door, 'not till you pay me my forty pounds;' and then I point to de pen, ink, and paper, on von small tables in de corner, and say, 'Dere, write me de check, and de Mayor shall go vitement—entendez-vous? If not, morbleu! I shall—'
"'Oh!' interrupted dis clevare man, 'if I must, Grim, I must,' and as if he vare très-pressé—vary hurry, he write de draft, and pushing it into my hand, he squeeze it, and I do push it into my pocket. Eh bien!—vell, den, I do make haste to de banquier, and giving it to de clerks, I say, vitement, 'four tens, if you please, Sare. 'Four tens!' he say, with much surprise; 'de draft be only for four pounds!' O, vat a clevare fellow dat Sheridan is! Vell, den, I say, 'If you please, Sare, donnez-moi donc, dose four pounds.' And den he say, 'Call again to-morrow.' Next day, I meet de manager in de street, and I say, 'Mistare Sheridan! have you forget?' and den he laugh, and say, 'Vy, Grim, I recollected afterwards—I left out de 0!' O, vat a clevare fellow dat Sheridan is!'"
Again meeting Grimaldi, some months afterwards, Reynolds asked him, whether the manager had found means to pay him the amount of his dishonoured cheque. He replied in the affirmative; but with a look and tone of voice so altered, it seemed as if the successful adroitness of Sheridan's ruse contre ruse, had afforded him more enjoyment, and given him a higher opinion of the manager as "a clevare fellow," than the mere passing business affair of paying him his demand.
Among the many persons who in this early stage of his career behaved with great kindness to him, were the famous rope-dancers, Mr. and Mrs. Redigé, then called Le Petit Diable,[7] and La Belle Espagnole; who often gave him a guinea to buy some childish luxury, which his father invariably took away and deposited in a box, with his name written outside, which he would lock very carefully, and then, giving the boy the key, say, "Mind, Joe, ven I die, dat is your vortune." Eventually he lost both the box and the fortune, as will hereafter appear.
[7] Paulo Redigé, "Le Petit Diable," made his first appearance at Sadler's Wells with Placide, the "French Voltigeur," under the Italianised name of Signor Placido, on Easter Monday, 1781, on the same night with young Joe. La Belle Espagnole, whom Angelo describes as "a very beautiful woman," made her first appearance at the same theatre, on April 1, 1785; having, as the bills expressed it, "been celebrated at Paris all the winter, for her very elegant and wonderful performances." She soon after became the wife of the "Little Devil." Paulo, the late clown, was their son, and might be almost said to have been born within the walls of that theatre. The manager's attentions to this beautiful Spaniard were the cause of much jealousy to Mrs. Wroughton, and some ludicrous stories are still afloat.
As he had now nearly four months vacant out of every twelve, the run of the Christmas pantomime at Drury Lane seldom exceeding a month, and Sadler's Wells not opening until Easter, he was sent for that period of the year to a boarding-school at Putney, kept by a Mr. Ford, of whose kindness and goodness of heart to him on a later occasion of his life, he spoke, when an old man, with the deepest gratitude. He fell in here with many schoolfellows who afterwards became connected one way or another with dramatic pursuits, among whom was Mr. Henry Harris, of Covent Garden Theatre. We do not find that any of these schoolfellows afterwards became pantomime actors; but recollecting the humour and vivacity of the boy, the wonder to us is, that they were not all clowns when they grew up. In the Christmas of 1782, he appeared in his second character[8] at Drury Lane, called "Harlequin Junior; or, the Magic Cestus," in which he represented a demon, sent by some opposing magician to counteract the power of the harlequin. In this, as in his preceding part, he was fortunate enough to meet with great applause; and from this period his reputation was made, although it naturally increased with his years, strength, and improvement.
[8] The pantomime of "Harlequin Junior; or, the Magic Cestus," was performed for the first time, on Wednesday, January 7, 1784, not Christmas, 1782; and was highly successful, from the excellence of the characters, the beautiful scenery, and the new deceptions—Grimaldi, as Clown, obtruding into a hot-house, became suddenly transformed into a fine large water-melon; in another scene, changed into a goose, his affected airs in displaying his tail in the peacock style, set the house in roars of laughter. The change of the Bank of Paris into an air-balloon, was a trick that obtained a full plaudit. So great, in fact, was the attraction, it was not only frequently performed during the remainder of the season, 1783–4, but also in that of 1784–5, being revived on September 28, 1784, and repeated in lieu of a new pantomime, on December 27, in that year, and it ran its full complement of representations as a new piece.
In the following Easter[9] he repeated the monkey at Sadler's Wells without the pit effect. As the piece was withdrawn at the end of a month, and he had nothing to do for the remainder of the season, he again repaired to Putney.
[9] We do not find that at Easter, 1784, any piece was withdrawn in which a monkey was likely to be introduced. The Sieur Scaglioni's troop of Dancing Dogs, and their sagacious manœuvres, made up speedily for the losses of the previous season. The pantomime was entitled "The Enchanted Wood; or, Harlequin's Vagaries;" a dance called the "Fricassee;" and the whole concluded with the "Death and Revival of Harlequin," which "ran" the whole of the season.
In Christmas 1783, he once more appeared at Drury Lane, in a pantomime called "Hurly Burly."[10] In this piece he had to represent, not only the old part of the monkey, but that of a cat besides; and in sustaining the latter character he met with an accident, his speedy recovery from which would almost induce one to believe that he had so completely identified himself with the character as to have eight additional chances for his life. The dress he wore was so clumsily contrived, that when it was sewn upon him he could not see before him; consequently, as he was running