"By some extraordinary mistake and blindness I have been led into the society of yourself and your associates, ma'am. I regret this bitterly for many reasons, but for two especially: first, that I should ever have had acquaintance with such characters; and secondly, that it compels me to act with apparent harshness to a woman. As I have no other course to pursue, however, I beg you will have the goodness to tell the ladies and gentlemen whom I have had the unhappiness to meet in Charlotte-street, that I request them never to show their faces here; and that I wish never to see, and certainly shall never speak to any of them again."
The servant entering the room at this point, in reply to the summons he had previously given, he continued,
"As soon as this person has rested herself after her walk, show her to the door; and take care that you never admit her, or any of the people who have been in the habit of coming here with her, into the house again." With these words he quitted the room, as did the "lady" immediately afterwards; and well pleased he was to be rid of her society.
Sadler's Wells opened the season of 1807 with a new piece, called the "Ogre," in which he enacted a character dignified by the name of "Scamperino." This drama was not very successful, lingering only through ten nights; but as he was wanted of course in something else, and had every night to hurry to Covent Garden afterwards, to play the clown in "Mother Goose," which was still running with unabated spirit, he endured very great fatigue for more than three months, during which the two theatres were open together.[40]
[40] Sadler's Wells opened the season of 1807 on Easter Monday, March 30th, with a new pantomime, entitled "Jan Ben Jan, or Harlequin and the Forty Virgins." Ridgway made his first appearance as Harlequin, Bologna, jun., having seceded from the theatre. Among other debutants on that night, was Pyne, the singer, as also Mrs. M'Cartney, who subsequently became Mrs. Pyne. Grimaldi, as usual, was clown in the pantomime, which had a long and successful run. In the scene of the interior of Pidcock's menagerie, at Exeter 'Change, he spoke and sang "The Exhibitor's Chant," which became highly popular. The journalists of that time were of one accord; the inimitable drolleries of the clown were the principal cause of the crowded lobbies and the scarcely standing room on every night of the performance.
In the July of this year a very extraordinary circumstance occurred at Sadler's Wells, which was the great topic of conversation in the neighbourhood for some time afterwards. It happened thus:—
Captain George Harris, of the Royal Navy, who was related to the Mr. Harris of Covent Garden, and with whom Grimaldi was slightly acquainted, had recently returned to England after a long voyage. The crew being paid off, many of the men followed their commander up to London, and proceeded to enjoy themselves after the usual fashion of sailors. Sadler's Wells was at that time a famous place of resort with the blue-jackets, the gallery being sometimes almost solely occupied by seamen and their female companions. A large body of Capt. Harris's men resorted hither one night, and amongst them a man who was deaf and dumb, and had been so for many years. This man was placed by his shipmates in the front row of the gallery. Grimaldi was in great force that night, and, although the audience were in one roar of laughter, nobody appeared to enjoy his fun and humour more than this poor fellow. His companions good-naturedly took a good deal of notice of him, and one of them, who talked very well with his fingers, inquired how he liked the entertainments; to which the deaf and dumb man replied, through the same medium, and with various gestures of great delight, that he had never seen anything half so comical before.
As the scene progressed, Grimaldi's tricks and jokes became still more irresistible; and at length, after a violent peal of laughter and applause which quite shook the theatre, and in which the dumb man joined most heartily, he suddenly turned to his mate, who sat next to him, and cried out with much glee, "What a d——d funny fellow!"
"Why, Jack," shouted the other man, starting back with great surprise: "can you speak?"
"Speak!" returned the other; "ay, that I can, and hear, too."