285 ‘many-toned voice’: Bunn, The Stage, vol. 2, p. 167.
285 ‘God bless you all! Farewell!’: Percival, vol. 5, f. 82.
285 ‘grimaldi’s thanks’: Percival, vol. 5, f. 82.
285 ‘with an intensity of suffering’: New Monthly Magazine, Percival, vol. 5, f. 87.
285 planned to distribute mementoes: Percival, vol. 5, f. 82.
285 ‘in a high state of fever’: Oxberry (eds), ‘Memoir of Joseph Grimaldi’, p. 121.
286 Fanny Kelly interpreted it: Basil Francis, Fanny Kelly of Drury Lane (London: Rockcliff, 1950), p. 134.
286 ‘my poor master, Mr Harris’: Whitehead, Memoirs, p. 186, fn.
287 ‘so distinguished a veteran’: Dickens, Memoirs, p. 274; the relevant passage in the bill read: ‘It is respectfully announced, that Mr. GRIMALDI, After more than Four Years of severe and unremitting Indisposition, which continues without hope of alleviation, is compelled, finally, to relinquish a Profession, in which, from Infancy, he has been honoured with as liberal a share of Public Patronage as ever has been accorded to Candidates of much higher pretensions. Numerous Patrons having expressed surprise that Mr. GRIMALDI’S Benefit did not take place at the Theatre Royal, Covent Garden, he takes the liberty of stating, that after bidding farewell to his Friends and Supporters at Sadler’s Wells, (the Scene of his favoured exertions from the Age of Three Years) he applied to the present Directors of Covent Garden Theatre, who, in the kindest manner, expressed their regret, that the well-known situation of the Theatre precluded the possibility of indulging their strong inclination to comply with the request he had ventured to prefer. On transferring the application to Mr. PRICE, the Lessee of the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, Mr. GRIMALDI has the pleasure to say, that it was acceded to with a celerity which enhanced the obligation, and demands his most sincere acknowledgement.’ Percival, vol. 5, f. 89.
287 ‘You should have had a night for nothing’: Dickens, Memoirs, p. 277.
287 Odes and Addresses to Great People: Hood’s poem is as follows:
Joseph! they say thou’st left the stage,
To toddle down the hill of life,
And taste the flannell’d ease of age,
Apart from pantomimic strife –
‘Retired – [for Young would call it so] –
The world shut out’ – in Pleasant Row!
And hast thou really wash’d at last
From each white cheek the red half-moon
And all thy public Clownship cast,
To play the private Pantaloon?
All youth – all ages yet to be
Shall have a heavy miss of thee!
Thou didst not preach to make us wise –
Thou hadst no finger in our schooling –
Thou didst not ‘lure us to the skies’ –
Thy simple, simple trade was – Fooling!
And yet, Heav’n knows! we could – we can
Much ‘better spare a better man!’
Oh, had it pleased the gout to take
The reverend Croly from the stage,
Or Southey, for our quiet’s sake,
Or Mr. Fletcher, Cupid’s sage,
Or, damme! namby pamby Pool, –
Or any other clown or fool!
Go, Dibdin – all that bear the name,
Go Byeway Highway man! go! go!
Go, Skeffy – man of painted fame,
But leave thy partner, painted Joe!
I could bear Kirby on the wane,
Or Signor Paulo with a sprain!
Had Joseph Wilfred Parkins made
His grey hairs scarce in private peace –
Had Waithman sought a rural shade –
Or Cobbett ta’en a turnpike lease –
Or Lisle Bowles gone to Balaam Hill –
I think I could be cheerful still!
Had Medwin left off, to his praise,
Dead lion kicking, like – a friend! –
Had long, long Irving gone his ways
To muse on death at Ponder’s End –
Or Lady Morgan taken leave
Of Letters – still I might not grieve!
But, Joseph – everybody’s Jo! –
Is gone – and grieve I will and must!
As Hamlet did for Yorick, so
Will I for thee (though not yet dust),
And talk as he did when he miss’d
The kissing-crust that he had kiss’d!
Ah, where is now thy rolling head!
Thy winking, reeling, drunken eyes,
(As old Catullus would have said,)
Thy oven-mouth, that swallow’d pies –
Enormous hunger – monstrous drowth! –
Thy pockets greedy as thy mouth!
Ah, where thy ears, so often cuff’d! –
Thy funny, flapping, filching hands! –
Thy partridge body, always stuff’d
With waifs, and strays, and contrabands! –
Thy foot – like Berkeley’s Foote – for why?
‘Twas often made to wipe an eye!
Ah, where thy legs – that witty pair!
For ‘great wits jump’ – and so did they!
Lord! how they leap’d in lamplight air!
Caper’d – and bounced – and strode away! –
That years should tame the legs – alack!
I’ve seen spring through an Almanack!
But bounds will have their bound – the shocks
Of Time will cramp the nimblest toes;
And those that frisk’d in silken clocks
May look to limp in fleecy hose –
One only – (Champion of the ring)
Could ever make his Winter, – Spring!
And gout, that owns no odds between
The toe of Czar and toe of Clown,
Will visit – but I did not mean
To moralize, though I am grown
Thus sad, – Thy going seem’d to beat
A muffled drum for Fun’s retreat!
And, may be –’ tis no time to smother
A sigh, when two prime wags of London
Are gone – thou, Joseph, one, – the other,
A Joe! –’ sic transit gloria Munden!’
A third departure some insist on, –
Stage-apoplexy threatens Liston! –
Nay, then, let Sleeping Beauty sleep
With ancient ‘Dozey’ to the dregs–
Let Mother Goose wear mourning deep,
And put a hatchment o’er her eggs!
Let Farley weep – for Magic’s man
Is gone – his Christmas Caliban!
Let Kemble, Forbes, and Willet rain,
As though they walk’d behind thy bier, –
For since thou wilt not play again,
What matters, – if in heav’n or here!
Or in thy grave, or in thy bed! –
There’s Quick might just as well be dead!
Oh, how will thy departure cloud
The lamplight of the little breast!
The Christmas child will grieve aloud
To miss his broadest friend and best, –
Poor urchin! what avails to him
The cold New Monthly’s Ghost of Grimm?
For who like thee could ever stride!
Some dozen paces to the mile! –
The motley, medley coach provide –
Or like Joe Frankenstein compile
The vegetable man complete! –
A proper Covent Garden feat!
Oh, who like thee could ever drink,
Or eat, – swill – swallow – bolt – and choke!
Nod, weep, and hiccup – sneeze and wink? –
Thy very yawn was quite a joke!
Though Joseph, Junior, acts not ill,
‘There’s no Fool like the old Fool’ still!
Joseph, farewell! dear funny Joe!
We met with mirth, – we part in pain!
For many a long, long year must go
&nbs
p; Ere Fun can see thy like again –
For Nature does not keep great stores
Of perfect Clowns – that are not Boors!
288 ‘Slowly and seriously my visitor advanced’: Percival, vol. 5, f. 88. ‘Of his sufferings,’ Hood continued, ‘he spoke with a sad but resigned tone, expressed deep regret at quitting a profession he delighted in, and partly attributed the sudden breaking down of his health to the superior size of one particular stage which required of him a jump extra in getting off. That additional bound, like the bittock at the end of a Scotch mile, had, he thought, over-tasked his strength.’
288 ‘vale of years’: Percival, vol. 5, f. 83.
288–9 ‘If I was a rich man’: Grimaldi Scrapbook, Harvard Theatre Collection, p. 12.
289 ‘concatenation of Clowns, Columbines’: Percival, vol. 5, f. 83.
289 ‘ingenious mechanical and philosophical Exhibition’: Dibdin, Memoirs, p. 47.
289 ‘a shout enough to rend the roof’: New Monthly Magazine, vol. vii (1871), p. 92.
289 ‘taxed his energies for a last effort’: New Monthly Magazine, July 1839.
290 ‘laughed as lustily as of old’: Percival, vol. 5, f. 83.
290–1 ‘Ladies and gentlemen … Farewell! Farewell!’: Percival, vol. 5, f. 84.
291 ‘half led, half-carried him’: New Monthly Magazine, July 1839.
291 made a bow from the top of his steps: Dickens, Memoirs, p. 281.
The Libertine Destroyed
293 ‘Young Grimaldi’: The Times, 27 December 1828.
294 fn. Paulo did not remain in the part for long: The Times, 21 January 1829.
294 Three Wishes: The Times, 9 June 1829.
294 annual pension: Dickens, Memoirs, put the figure at £100, whereas the Caledonian Mercury (10 April 1828) suggests £130.
294–5 ‘Grand Naval Aquatic Exhibition’: Morning Chronicle, 29 July 1829.
295 ‘very often reminded us of his never-to-be-forgotten father’: The Times, 28 December 1829.
295 ‘not infrequently arrested’: Findlater, Joe Grimaldi, p. 216.
295 ‘quite delirious’: Unidentified clipping, dated 1830, Daly ex-ill., vol. 1, p. 13.
295 Edinburgh … next to the Coburg: The Times, 4 March 1831. ‘Upon the filing of the Petition and Schedule of Joseph Samuel William Grimaldi commonly called and known by the name of Joseph Samuel Grimaldi, formerly of Noble St. Islington, then of 18 Guildford Place Spa Fields then of 31 New North St. Theobald’s Road, then of Devonshire St. Queen Square, then of the corner of Drake Street Theobald’s Road then of Mile End Road then of Chade Row Bagnigge Wells Road then of Stourbridge Worcester and Cheltenham Gloucestershire of Chade Row aforesaid then of 5 Borough Road Surrey, then of Lloyd’s Row Spa Fields Middlesex then of Edinburgh, Glasgow, Ayr and Greenock all in Scotland, then of Martlett Court, Drury Lane [where his great grandfather pulled teeth] Middlesex and later of 13 Mitre Street New Cut Lambeth and of the Coburg Theatre, Lambeth aforesaid comedian.’ Daly, ex-ill., vol. 4, p. 139.
296 ‘dresses had fallen to rags’: Dickens, Memoirs, p. 284.
296 growing struggle between the patents and the minor theatres: Watson Nicholson, The Struggle for a Free Stage in London (New York: Blom, 1966), pp. 309–11; Moody, Illegitimate Theatre, pp. 42–3.
297 ‘I know it is a great favour to ask’: Charles Brintiffe Smith, Original Letters of Dramatic Performers, Collected and Arranged by Charles Brintiffe Smith, Library of the Garrick Club, c. 1850, 9 vols, vol. 2, p. 62.
297 ‘I cannot remember in what year’: Brintiffe Smith, vol. 5, p. 80.
298 found dead the following morning: Blanchard, Life and Reminiscences, vol. 1, p. 4, fn. 1. There is some disagreement over the details of this story. Blanchard’s editors date it at 1829, although erroneously, as Parsloe was playing Clown at Drury Lane in 1830. Moreover, a clipping in the Percival collection suggests that the pantomime was not Mother Goose at all: ‘A letter has been received in London from New York, stating that Parsloe, who went to America some time since, while performing in Peter Wilkins at one of the theatres there, was precipitated on the stage in consequence of some failure in the machinery, and killed on the spot.’ Percival, vol. 2, f. 53.
298–9 ‘Being as lost to the stage’: Bunn, The Stage, vol. 2, pp. 162.
299 ‘I sincerely regret … provided an arrangement can be made for my son’: Clipping, Era Almanac, 1883, Mander and Mitchenson Collection, University of Greenwich.
300 ‘She has had a Paraletic attack’: Findlater, Joe Grimaldi, p. 220.
301 ‘On Tuesday morning … in his 30th year’: Unidentified clipping, 23 December 1832, Daly ex-ill., vol. 1, p. 13.
301 seized with violent vomiting: ‘Extraordinary Inquest on Young Grimaldi’, unidentified clipping, 23 December 1832, Daly ex-ill., vol. 1, p. 13.
301 ‘snatches of the parts’: Dickens, Memoirs, p. 287.
303 ‘a strange business … did not die a natural death’: ‘Extraordinary Inquest on Young Grimaldi’, unidentified clipping, 23 December 1832, Daly ex-ill., vol. 1, p. 13.
304 ‘a young courtezan’: Gentleman’s Magazine, 2:6 (June 1838), p. 417.
304 Whitefield’s Tabernacle: Morning Chronicle, 17 December 1832.
304 ‘Ev’ry act of each day’: Unidentified clipping beneath a portrait of JS as Scaramouch, Daly ex-ill., vol. 3, p. 125.
‘Epistle I. To JOE GRIM*****.’
We all are thy debtors, detestable Joe,
That debt with one voice we’ll repay –
In our ears you have clank’d the bodings of woe,
While our hearts fought the cares of this life to forego,
You turned the deaf vision away.
Yet remark – nothing more than acknowledgements pure
Of your gifts can our bosoms impart;
Thy intentions towards us shall be laid at your door,
We are barren in vice, so shall merely restore,
Those evils which sprang from your heart.
Your wretched self-pride! Your assassin-like leer,
Shed on Mirth fell malignity’s cloud –
Fair Mirth’s placid voice seem’d discord in your ear;
For cruelly vicious and meanly severe –
In dark cares her chaste form you’ll enshroud
* Watchman! – I give charge of those fellows.
305 ‘dressed to leave … shudder to think of’: Charles Dickens, The Pickwick Papers (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 2003), p. 49.
305 ‘searing him’: Dickens, The Pickwick Papers, p. 50.
306 ‘great precocity’: Charles Dickens, ‘Speech to the General Theatrical Fund Association’, 6 April 1846, in The Speeches of Charles Dickens, ed. K. J. Fielding (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1968), p. 76.
306 ‘spirit of Grimaldi’: Edwin M. Eigner, The Dickens Pantomime (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989), p. 6.
306 the scary clown: Scary clowns are legion in popular culture, and some of the best-known examples include Poltergeist (1982), Pennywise, the Dancing Clown in Stephen King’s novel It (1986), photographer Cindy Sherman’s ‘Psychedelic Clown’ series of 2004, the movie Killer Klowns from Outer Space and, of course, Batman’s Joker. Mixing circus imagery with horror motifs is sometimes known as ‘dark carnival’. For a discussion of this genre, see Mark Dery’s chapter ‘Cotton-Candy Autopsy: Deconstructing Psycho-Killer Clowns’, in his The Pyrotechnic Insanitarium: American Culture on the Brink (New York: Grove, 1999), p. 73.
307 ‘the best clown we have’: Caledonian Mercury, 13 December 1834.
307 ‘unprovided for’: The Times, 31 July 1835.
307 a committee had been formed: Percival, vol. 6, f. 6.
307 ‘the sufferings of buffoons’: Percival, vol. 3, f. 212.
307 doctor’s bill: Letter from Joseph Grimaldi to John Hughes, 19 March 1834, Daly ex-ill., vol. 2, p. 53.
308 forbear from suicide: This anecdote appears in Blanchard Jerrold’s Life of George Cruikshank in Two Epochs (London: Chatto a
nd Windus, 1883), p. 233: ‘Joey and his much better half, one evening, disputing about precedency, resolved upon taking poison to end all contention, and to settle their differences of opinion for ever. But not taking enough, and forgetting the oft quoted maxim, now travestied “Drink deep, or taste not any poisonous thing,” the feeble dose merely kept them awake and talkative, and lying in the same room, with a slight partition between them, sensations became unpleasant, and so they held a colloquy in their fears as follows: “Joey are you dead?” “No Mary – are you?” “No.” And then they altered their minds, and felt disposed to live a little longer, arose, had a good supper and something warm and comfortable as a sedative and antidote, and then jogged on a little more in unison.’
308 ‘return from Transportation’: Disher, Clowns and Pantomimes, p. 115.
308 ‘I am not to be duped’: Letter from Joseph Grimaldi to Mr Proctor, 20 July 1836.
308 ‘wont to wander up and down’: Percival, vol. 3, f. 212.
309 ‘Joseph Grimaldi is dear to all’: Letter from Charles Farley to Joseph Grimaldi, 20 December 1836, Grimaldi Scrapbook, Harvard Theatre Collection.
309 ‘afflicted with rheumatism’: ‘D. J.’, ‘Letter of Joseph Grimaldi’, Notes and Queries, 7 Series, 24 November 1888, pp. 24–5.
309 ‘no one was happier than your old and true chum’: Letter from Joseph Grimaldi to unknown recipient, 9 December 1835, Daly ex-ill., vol. 1, p. 53.
310 ‘I am very ill … always in pain’: Findlater, Joe Grimaldi, p. 222.
310 ‘Grim-all-day’: Letter from Joseph Grimaldi to unknown recipient, 5 December 18??, Bentley ex-ill., vol. 2, p. 203.
310 ‘400 closely-written pages’: Unidentified clipping, Islington Local History Centre.
311 ‘no Song, or Performance of any description’: Disher, Clowns and Pantomimes, p. 146.
311 ‘least humorous’: Disher, Clowns and Pantomimes, p. 147.
311 ‘roars of laughter’: Blanchard, Life and Reminiscences, vol. 1, pp. 51–2, fn. 3.
311 ‘re-write, revise and correct’: Dickens, Memoirs, p. 299.
311 ‘dreary twaddle’: Letters of Charles Dickens, ed. Madeline House and Graham Storey (Oxford: Clarendon, 1982), vol. 1, p. 337.
The Pantomime Life of Joseph Grimaldi Page 42