He reached Rochester about noon on the day fixed for the benefit, rehearsed half-a-dozen pantomime scenes, and having dined, went to the theatre, every portion of which was crammed before six o'clock. On his appearance, he was received with a tremendous shout of welcome; his two comic songs were each encored three times, and the whole performances went off with great éclat. Mrs. Baker, the manager or manageress, at once offered him an engagement for the two following nights, the receipts of the house to be divided between them. His acceptance of this proposal delighted the old lady so much, that the arrangement was no sooner concluded than she straightway walked upon the stage, dressed in the bonnet and shawl in which she had been taking the money and giving the checks, and in an audible voice gave out the entertainments herself, to the immense delight of the audience, who shouted vociferously.
This old lady appears to have been a very droll personage. She managed all her affairs herself, and her pecuniary matters were conducted on a principle quite her own. She never put her money out at interest, or employed it in any speculative or profitable manner, but kept it in six or eight large punch-bowls, which always stood upon the top shelf of a bureau, except when she was disposed to make herself particularly happy, and then she would take them down singly, and after treating herself with a sly look at their contents, put them up again.
This old lady had a factotum to whom attached the elegant sobriquet of "Bony Long;" the gentleman's name being Long, and his appearance bony. At a supper after the play, at which the guests were Lund, Grimaldi, Henry and William Dowton (sons of the celebrated actor of that name), the manageress, and "Bony," it was arranged that Grimaldi should perform Scaramouch, in "Don Juan," on the following night. A slight difficulty occurred, in consequence of his having brought from London no other dress than a clown's; but Mrs. Baker provided against it by sending for one Mr. Palmer, then a respectable draper and tailor at Rochester, who, having received the actor's instructions, manufactured for him the best Scaramouch dress he ever wore. The assurances which were given the artist at the time that his abilities lay in the theatrical way were not without good foundation, for two years afterwards he left Rochester, came to London, and became principal master-tailor at Covent Garden Theatre. He held the situation for some years, and then removed to Drury Lane and filled the same office, which he still continues to hold.
On the second night, the house was filled in every part, and a great number of persons were turned away. On the following evening, on which he made his last appearance, and repeated the part of Scaramouch together with that of Clown; the orchestra was turned into boxes, seats were fitted up on every inch of available room behind the scenes, and the receipts exceeded in amount those of any former occasion.
At another supper that night with Mrs. Baker, he made an arrangement to join her company for a night or two, at Maidstone, in the following March, provided his London engagements would admit of his doing so. They were not at all behindhand with the money; for, at eight o'clock next morning, "Bony Long" repaired to his lodgings, taking with him an account of the two nights' receipts, Grimaldi's share whereof came to 160l., which was at once paid over to him, down upon the nail, all in three-shilling pieces. This was an addition to his baggage which he had not expected, and he was rather at a loss how to convey his loose silver up to town, when he was relieved by a tavern-keeper, who being as glad to take the silver as Grimaldi was to get notes, very soon made the exchange, to the satisfaction of all parties. Having had this satisfactory settlement with the old lady, Grimaldi took his leave, and returned to town, not at all displeased with the success which had attended his first professional excursion from London.
At Christmas, "Harlequin Amulet" was revived at Drury Lane, in place of a new pantomime, and ran without interruption till the end of January following; drawing as much money as it had in the previous year. It was during this season, or about this time, that Grimaldi's old friend Davis, or "Jew Davis," as he was called, made his first appearance at Drury Lane. This is the man whose eccentricity gave rise to a ludicrous anecdote of John Kemble, of which the following is a correct version:
Kemble was once "starring" in the north of England, and paid a visit to the provincial theatre in which Jew Davis was engaged, where he was announced for Hamlet. Every member of the little company was necessarily called into requisition, and Jew Davis was "cast" to play the first grave-digger. All went well until the first scene of the fifth act, being the identical one in which Davis was called upon to appear: and here the equanimity and good temper of Kemble were considerably shaken: the grave-digger's representative having contracted a habit of grimacing which, however valuable in burlesque or farce, was far from being at all desirable in tragedy, and least of all in that philosophical tragedy of which Hamlet is the hero. But if the actor had contracted a habit of grimacing upon his part, the audience upon its part had contracted an equally constant habit of laughing at him: so the great tragedian, moralizing over the skull of Yorick, was frequently interrupted by the loud roars of laughter attendant upon the grave-digger's strangely comical and increasing grins.
This greatly excited the wrath of Kemble, and after the play was finished, he remonstrated somewhat angrily with Davis upon the subject, requesting that such "senseless buffoonery" might not be repeated in the event of their sustaining the same parts on any subsequent occasion. All this was far from answering the end proposed: the peculiarities of temper belonging to Jew Davis were aroused, and he somewhat tartly replied that he did not wish to be taught his profession by Mr. Kemble. The latter took no further notice of the subject, but pursued the even tenour of his way with so beneficial an effect upon the treasury that his engagement was renewed for "a few nights more," and on the last of these "few nights" Hamlet was again the play performed.
As before, all went well till the grave-diggers' scene commenced; when Kemble, while waiting for his "cue" to go on, listened bodingly to the roars of laughter which greeted the colloquy of Davis and his companion. At length he entered, and at the same moment, Davis having manufactured a grotesque visage, was received with a shout of laughter, which greatly tended to excite the anger of "King John." His first words were spoken, but failed to make any impression: and upon turning towards Davis, he discovered that worthy standing in the grave, displaying a series of highly unsuitable although richly comic grimaces.
In an instant all Kemble's good temper vanished, and stamping furiously upon the stage, he expressed his anger and indignation in a muttered exclamation, closely resembling an oath. This ebullition of momentary excitement produced an odd and unexpected effect. No sooner did Davis hear the exclamation and the loud stamping of the angry actor, than he instantly raised his hands above his head in mock terror, and, clasping them together as if he were horrified by some dreadful spectacle, threw into his face an expression of intense terror, and uttered a frightful cry, half shout and half scream, which electrified his hearers. Having done this, he very coolly laid himself flat down in the grave, (of course disappearing from the view of the audience), nor could any entreaties prevail upon him to emerge from it, or to repeat one word more. The scene was done as well as it could be, without a grave-digger, and the audience, while it was proceeding, loudly expressed their apprehensions from time to time, "that some accident had happened to Mr. Davis."