As you will have gathered, the following are just excerpts - snippets from quite a lengthy book. I have chosen some episodes in Grimaldi's life which could just easily have been used in 'Pickwick's Papers'. I laughed out loud when I read these lines for the first time, I'm sure you will, too. I've headed each excerpt with a few notes to set the scene.
-He pondered over the matter for some days, and at length, with the view of ascertaining the dispositions of his two sons, formed a singular resolution, still connected with the topic ever upwards in his mind, and determined to feign himself dead. He caused himself to be laid out in the drawing-room, covered with a sheet, and had the room darkened, the windows closed, and all the usual ceremonies which accompany death, performed. All this being done, and the servants duly instructed, the two boys were cautiously informed that their father had died suddenly, and were at once hurried into the room where he lay, in order that he might hear them give vent to their real feelings. When Joe was brought into the dark room on so short a notice, his sensations were rather complicated, but they speedily resolved themselves into a firm persuasion that his father was not dead. A variety of causes led him to this conclusion, among which the most prominent were, his having very recently seen his father in the best health; and, besides several half-suppressed winks and blinks from Black Sam, his observing, by looking closely at the sheet, that his deceased parent still breathed. With very little hesitation the boy perceived what line of conduct he ought to adopt, and at once bursting into a roar of the most distracted grief, flung himself upon the floor, and rolled about in a seeming transport of anguish. John, not having seen so much of public life as his brother, was not so cunning, and perceiving in his father's death nothing but a relief from flogging and books (for both of which he had a great dislike), and the immediate possession of all the plate in the dining room, skipped about the room, indulging in various snatches of song, and, snapping his fingers, declared that he was glad to hear it.
"O! you cruel boy," said Joe, in a passion of tears, "hadn't you any love for your dear father? Oh! what would I give to see him alive again!"
"Oh! never mind," replied the brother; "don't be such a fool as to cry; we can have the cuckoo-clock all to ourselves now."
This was more than the deceased could bear. He jumped from the bier, opened the shutters, threw off the sheet, and attacked his younger son most unmercifully; while Joe, not knowing what might be his own fate, ran and hid himself in the coal-cellar, where he was discovered some four hours afterwards, by Black Sam, fast asleep, who carried him to his father, who had been anxiously in search of him, and by whom he was received with every demonstration of affection, as the son who truly and sincerely loved him.-
This to me read like a classic scene from any one of the dozens of chapters in Pickwick's Papers. Grimaldi and his friend and fellow actor, Bologna, are invited by a supposedly landed gent, and ( also supposedly ) wealthy with it, for a few days out in the country, with of course the ubiqitous shooting party taking centre stage. Just like in Pickwick's, things hardly ever turned out the way they should have done for Grimaldi.
- He had been in great request at Sadler's Wells; for the season was one of the heaviest the performers had ever known. The two friends were speaking of this one evening, and complaining of their great fatigue, when Bologna recalled to mind that he had a friend residing in Kent who had repeatedly invited him down to his house for a few days' shooting, and to take a friend with him; he proposed, therefore, that he and Grimaldi should go down by way of relaxation. On the 6th of November, accordingly, the friend having been previously apprized of their intention, and having again returned a most pressing invitation, they left town in a gig hired for the purpose. On the road, Bologna told his friend that the gentleman whom they were going down to visit was an individual of the name of Mackintosh; that he was understood to be wholly unconnected with any business or profession, that he was a large landed proprietor, and that he had most splendid preserves. The intelligence pleased Grimaldi very much, as he looked forward to a very stylish visit, and felt quite elated with the idea of cultivating the acquaintance of so great a man.
"I have never seen his place myself," said Bologna; "but when he is in London, he is always about the theatres, and he has often asked me to come down and have some shooting."
They were talking thus, when they arrived at Bromley, which was about two miles and a half from the place to which they were bound. Here they met a man in a fustian jacket, driving a tax-cart, drawn by a very lame little horse, who suddenly pulled up, hailed the party with a loud " Hallo !" and a " Well, Joe, here you are! "
Grimaldi was rather surprised at this intimate salutation from a stranger; and he was a little more so when Bologna, after shaking hands very heartily with the man in fustian, introduced him as the identical Mr. Mackintosh whom they were going down to visit.
"I'm glad to see you, Joe," said Mr. Mackintosh with an air or patronage. "I thought I'd meet you here and show you the way."
Grimaldi made some suitable acknowledgments for this politeness, and the tax-cart and the gig went on together.
" I am sorry you have hit upon a bad day for coming down here, so far as the shooting goes," said Mackintosh, "for tomorrow is a general fast. At any rate you can walk about and look at the country; and the next day � the next day � wont we astonish the natives!"
" Are there plenty of birds this year?" inquired Bologna.
"Lots � lots," replied the other man, whose manner and appearance scarce bore out Grimaldi's preconceived notion of the gentleman they were going to visit. If he were already surprised, however, he had much greater cause to be so eventually. After travelling upwards of two miles, Bologna inquired if they were not near their place of destination.
"Certainly," answered Mackintosh; "that is my house." Looking in the direction pointed out, their eyes were greeted with the appearance of a small road-side public-house, in front of which hung a sign-board, bearing the words " Good entertainment for man and beast" painted on it, and beneath the name of "Mackintosh." Bologna looked at Grimaldi, and then at the public-house, and then at the man in the fustian jacket; but he was far too much engaged in contemplating with evident satisfaction the diminutive dwelling they were approaching, to regard the surprise of his companions. "Yes," he said, "that house contains the best of wines, ales, beds, tobacco, stabling, skittle-grounds, and every other luxury."
" I beg your pardon," interposed Bologna, who was evidently mortified, while Grimaldi had a strong and almost irresistible inclination to laugh, "but I thought you were not connected with business at all?"
"No more I am," said Mackintosh, with a wink; "the business belongs to mother !"
Bologna looked inexpressibly annoyed, and Grimaldi laughed outright, at which Mr. Mackintosh seemed rather pleased than otherwise, taking it to all appearance quite complimentary.
"Yes," he said, "I may be said to be a gentleman at large, for I do nothing but ride about in my carriage here," pointing to the tax-cart, "or stroll out with my gun or my fishing-rod. Mother's quite a woman of business; but as I am an only child, I suppose I shall have to look after it myself some day or other." He remained silent a moment, and then said, touching Bologna smartly with his whip, "I suppose, old fellow, you didn't think you were coming to a public-house-eh?"
" Indeed I did not," was the sulky reply.
" Ah! I thought you'd be surprised," said Mackintosh, with a hearty laugh. "I never let my London friends know who or what I am, except they're very particular friends, like you and Joe, for instance. I just lead them to guess I'm a great man, and there I leave 'em. What does it matter what other idea strangers have about one ? But here we are, so get out of your gig; and rest assured you shall have as hearty a welcome as you'll ever get at a nobleman's house."
There was something hearty and pleasant in the man's manner, despite his coarseness; so, finding that Bologna was not inclined to speak, Grimaldi said something civil himself; which was extremely well received by their host, who shook his hand warmly, and led them into the house, where, being introduced to Mrs. Mackintosh by her son, as particular friends of his, they were received with great hospitality, and shortly afterwards sat down in the little bar to a capital plain dinner, which, in conjunction with some sparkling ale, rather tended to soothe the wounded spirit of Bologna. After dinner they walked about the neighbourhood, which was all very pleasant, and returning to supper, were treated with great hospitality. On retiring to rest, Bologna acknowledged that "matters might have been worse," but before pronouncing a final opinion, prudently waited to ascertain how the preserves would turn out. On the following day they divided their time pretty equally between eating, drinking, chatting with the chance customers of the house, their host and his mother, and, though last, not least, preparing their guns for the havoc which they purposed making the next morning in the preserves of Mr. Mackintosh, of which preserves he still continued to speak in terms of the highest praise. Accordingly, they met at the breakfast-table a full hour earlier than on the previous day, and having despatched a hearty meal, sallied forth, accompanied by Mr. Mackintosh, who declined carrying a gun, and contented himself with showing the way. Having walked some little distance, they came to a stile, which they climbed over, and after traversing a plot of pasture-land arrived at a gate, beyond which was a field of fine buckwheat. Here the guide called a halt.
" Wait a minute! � wait a minute! " cried he; "you are not so much accustomed to sporting as I."
They stopped. He advanced to the gate, looked over, and hastily returned.
"Now's the time !" he said eagerly; "there's lots of birds in that field! "
They crept very cautiously onwards; but when they reached the gate and saw beyond it, were amazed to discern nothing but an immense quantity of pigeons feeding in the field.
"There's a covey!" said Mackintosh, admiringly.
"A covey!" exclaimed Grimaldi. "Where? I see nothing but pigeons! "
" Nothing but pigeons!" exclaimed Mackintosh, contemptuously. "What did you expect to find? Nothing but pigeons! � Well!"
"I expected to find pheasants and partridges," answered both sportsmen together. Bologna, upon whom the sulks were again beginning to fall, gave a grunt of disapprobation; but Mackintosh either was, or pretended to be, greatly surprised.
" Pheasants and partridges !" he exclaimed, with a ludicrous expression of amazement. "Oh dear, quite out of the question! I invited you down here to shoot birds � and pigeons are birds; and there are the pigeons � shoot away, if you like. I have performed my part of the agreement. Pheasants and partridges!" he repeated: "most extraordinary!"
"The fellow's a humbug!" whispered Bologna; "kill as many of his pigeons as you can."
With this understanding, Bologna fired at random into the nearest cluster of pigeons, and Grimaldi fired upon them as they rose frightened from the ground. The slaughter was very great: they picked up twenty in that field, five in the one beyond, and saw besides several fall which they could not find. This great success, and the agreeable employment of picking up the birds, restored their equanimity of temper, and all went well for some time, until Mackintosh said inquiringly, " I think you have them all now?"
" I suppose we have," replied Bologna; "at least, all except those which we saw fall among the trees yonder."
"Those you will not be able to get," said Mackintosh.
"Very good; such being the case, we have 'em all," returned Bologna.
"Very well," said Mackintosh, quietly; "and now, if you will take my advice, you will cut away at once."
" Cut away!" said Bologna.
" Cut away!" exclaimed Grimaldi.
" Cut away is the word !" repeated Mr. Mackintosh.
"And why, pray?" asked Bologna.
" Why?" said Mr. Mackintosh. " Isn't the reason obvious? � Because you've killed the pigeons."
" Just what has our killing these pigeons to do with cutting away?"
" Bless us !" cried Mackintosh, "you are not very bright today! Don't you see that when the squire comes to hear of it, he'll be very angry. Now, what can be plainer, if he is very angry, as I know he will be, then if you are here, he'll put you in prison? Don't you stand that. No, no: what I say is, cut away at once, and don't stop for him to catch you."
" Pooh!" said Bologna, with a contemptuous air, "I see you know nothing of the law. There's not a squire in all England who has power to put us in prison, merely beeause we have killed your pigeons, although we may not have taken out certificates."
"My pigeons!" exclaimed Mackintosh. "Lord help you! they're none o� mine! � they belong to the squire, and very fond of them he is, and precious savage he'll be when he finds out how you have been peppering them. So there I come back again to what I set out with. If you two lads will take my advice, now you've got your pigeons, you'll cut away with them."
The remarkable disclosure contained in this little speech fairly overwhelmed them; they stared at each other in stupid surprise, which shortly gave way first to anger and then to fear. They were greatly awed at contemplating the risk which they had incurred of being " sent to prison; " and after a few words of angry remonstrance addressed to Mr. Mackintosh, which that gentleman heard with a degree of composure and philosophy quite curious to behold, they concluded that they had better act upon his advice, and " cut away � at once. They lost no time in returning to the inn; and here, while they were engaged in packing up the " birds," the singular host got a nice luncheon ready, of which they did not fail to partake, and then mounting their gig, they bade farewell to him and his mother, the former of whom at parting appeared so much delighted, and vented so many knowing winks, that for very life they could not help laughing outright.
On the following morning, Bologna and Grimaldi encountered each other by chance in Covent Garden. Grimaldi had been to Drury Lane to see if he were wanted, aud Bologna had been into the Strand, in which, during the winter months, when he was not engaged at any theatre, he had an exhibition. They laughed heartily at meeting, as the recollection of the day previous, and its adventures came upon them, and finally adjourned to the Garrick's Head, in Bow-street, to have a glass of sherry and a biscuit, and once more talk the matter over. The house was then kept by a man of the name of Spencer, who had formerly been harlequin at Drury Lane, but who, having left the profession, had turned Boniface instead. He was standing at the door when they arrived, and all three being upon intimate terms, was invited to join in a glass of wine; to this he readily assented, and they adjourned to his private room, where the Kentish adventures were related, to his great amusement and pleasure.
"By the by, though," he said, when the merriment was pretty well over, "I wish you had happened to mention to me that you wanted a few days' shooting, for I could have procured that for you with the greatest ease. I was born at Hayes, and all my relatives live in Kent; besides, I know pretty well every gamekeeper in the county; � in fact, when in town they invariably come to this house, and would have been delighted to have obliged any friend of mine."
" Ah !" said Bologna, " and in that case we should have had birds to shoot at, and not pigeons."
Here Mr. Spencer indulged in a laugh which was interrupted by the entrance of a young man, who, though unknown to Bologna and Grimaldi, appeared well acquainted with the landlord, who, after shaking him warmly by the hand and bidding him be seated, said, "But, Joseph, what has brought you so suddenly to town?"
"Oh, drat it!" exclaimed the new-comer, "very disagreeable business indeed. There were two vagabonds down in our parts yesterday from London, and they killed and stole fifty or sixty of master's pigeons. I've come up here to find them out and apprehend them: I've got a constable drinking in the tap," This information rather flustered them, and Bologna turned as pale as death; but the host, after indulging in two winks, and one fit of reflection, quietly said, " Well, but Joseph, how can you find them out, think you? London's a large place, Joseph."
"Why, I'll tell you," replied the gamekeeper, for such, as they afterwards discovered, he was, " I found out, that the rascals had been staying at Mrs. Mackintosh's house, and were friends of her son; so I went to him last night and asked him where the fellows were. 'Oh,' says he, 'I know what you've come about: they've cut away with them pigeons!' 'Yes,' says I; 'and unless you tell me where they've cut away to, I shall make you answerable.' 'Oh,' says he again, 'I know nothing about 'em; they're no friends of mine,' he ays, 'they're only play-actors: one's a Clown and t'other's a Harlequin at one of the London theatres.' And this was all I could get from him; so up I came this morning, and knowing that you were acquainted with theatrical people, I thought l'd come and ask you which of the Clowns and which of the Harlequins it was most likely to be."
" Is the squire very angry? "asked Spencer.
"Oh, very," responded Joseph, with a shake of the head: "he's determined to pursue them to the very extremity of the law."
Upon hearing this, Grimaldi was much troubled in mind; not that he thought Spencer was a man likely to betray his friends, but fearing that by some inadvertence he might disclose what he felt certain his will would prompt him to conceal. As to Bologna, his agitation alone was sufficient to announce the real state of the fact; for, in addition to a ghastly paleness which overspread his face, he trembled so much, that in an attempt to convey some wine to his lips, he deposited it upon his knees and left it there, staring all the while at the gamekeeper with a most crest-fallen visage.
" There's one thing the squire appears to have forgotten," said Spencer, " and that is simply this � that before he can pursue these fellows to the extremity of the law, he has got to find them."
"True," answered Joseph; "and unless you assist me, I'm afraid I sha'n't be able to do that. I suppose, now, there are a good many Clowns and Harlequins in London, � eh?"
" A great many," replied Spencer. "I am one, for instance."
"Oh!" smiled the gamekeeper, "but it isn't you."
"That's true," said the host, composedly. "But I'll tell you what; it is two particular friends of mine, though, who did it!"
Joseph exclaimed, "Indeed!" and Bologna gave Grimaldi a look which clearly evidenced his conviction, firstly, that it was all up, and secondly, that it was impossible to "cut away."
"Friends of yours�hey?" said Joseph, ruminating. "Then I expect you wont assist me in finding them out?"
" Not a bit of it," answered Spencer, "so you may go and look among the Harlequins and Clowns yourself, and Heaven help you! for the jokes they will play and the tricks they will serve you will be enough to wear your heart out." Joseph looked greatly mortified at this compassionate speech, and, after a moment's pause, stammered out something about "that being Mr. Spencer's friends, it made a great difference."
"I'll tell you what it is, Joseph," said the landlord; "say no more about this affair, and my two friends will pay a reasonable sum for the pigeons, and stand a rumpsteak dinner and a bottle of wine this very day. What say you?"
Joseph's countenance brightened up. "Oh! " said he, "as to the pigeons, of course, I could manage. If the gentlemen are friends of yours, consider the matter settled, � I'll talk the squire over about the matter. And as to the steak and wine, why I don't mind partaking of them; and, in return, they shall come down into Kent some day next week, and I'll give them a morning's shooting."
" Then," said Spencer, rising formally, "these are the gentlemen. Gentlemen, this is Mr. Joseph Clarke."
All was satisfactorily settled: the rump-steak and wine were ordered, duly eaten and drunk, and they spent the afternoon together very jovially, aecepting Mr. Clarke's invitation for another "day's shooting" with great alacrity; � nor did they omit keeping the appointment; but, on the day fixed, went once more into Kent, when, under the able guidance of their new acquaintance, they succeeded in killing and bagging four hares and five brace of pheasants in less than two hours.
They returned to town without seeing anything more of their friend Mr. Mackintosh, but being upon the very best terms with Mr. Joseph Clarke, who � but for his really keeping his word and giving them a day's sport � might be not unreasonably suspected of having been in league with the landlord to use the sportsmen for their joint amusement, and to extract a good dinner from them besides.-
-ABOUT three weeks had elapsed since the last dinner in Throgmorton-street, during the whole of which time nothing had been seen or heard either of the six ladies or of the six gentlemen, when, as Grimaldi was sitting reading in his parlour, a strange gentleman was shown into the room. As he was accustomed to be waited upon by many people of whom he knew nothing, he requested the gentleman to take a chair, and after a few commonplace remarks upon the weather and the papers, begged to ask his business with him.
"Why, my business with you, Mr. Grimaldi," said the stranger, putting down his hat, as if he had come to stop a long time, "is of a very peculiar nature. Perhaps I had better commence by telling you who I am. My name is Harmer."
" Harmer?" said Grimaldi, running over in his mind all the theatrical names he had ever heard.
"Mr. James Harmer, of Hatton Garden. The reason of my waiting upon you is this, � I wish to speak to you upon a very disagreeable affair."
There was a peculiar solemnity in the visitor's manner, although it was very gentlemanly and quiet, which at once threw Grimaldi into a state of great nervous excitement. He entreated him, with a very disturbed countenance, to be kind enough to explain the nature of the communication he had to make, as explicitly as he could.
" To come, then, at once to the point," said Mr. Harmer," do you not know a person of the name of Mackintosh?"
" Yes, certainly," replied Grimaldi, his thoughts flying off at a tangent, first to Throgmorton-street, and then to the ladies and gentlemen in Charlotte-street�" oh yes, I know him."
" He is now," said Mr. Harmer, solemnly, "in great danger of losing his life."
Grimaldi at once supposed his visitor was a doctor, � said he was very sorry to hear it, asked how long he had been ill, and begged to know what was the matter with him.
"His bodily health is good enough," replied Mr. Harmer, with a half-smile. "In the course of my professional career, Mr. Grimaldi, I have known many men in imminent danger of losing their lives, who have been in most robust health."
Grimaldi bowed his head, and presumed his visitor referred to cases in which the patient had 'gone off' suddenly. Mr. Harmer said that he certainly did, and that he had strong reason to fear Mr. Mackintosh would 'go off' one morning - very suddenly indeed.
" I greatly regret to hear it," said the other. " But pray tell me his condition without reserve: you may safely be communicative to me. What is the nature of the disorder? what is it called ?"
"Burglary," answered Mr. Harmer, quaintly.
"Burglary!" exclaimed Grimaldi, trembling from head to foot.
"Nothing less," replied Mr. Harmer. "The state of the case, Mr. Grimaldi, is simply this: Mackintosh is accused of having committed a burglary at Congleton, in Cheshire. I am a solicitor, and am engaged on his behalf; the evidence against him is very strong, and if he be found guilty, which I must say appears to me extremely likely, he will most infallibly be hanged."
This intelligence so amazed Grimaldi, that he fell into a chair as if he had been shot, and it was some little time before he was sufficiently recovered to resume the conversation. The moment he could do so, he hastened to explain that he had never supposed Mackintosh to be other than an honest man, or he would carefully have shunned all acquaintance with him.
" He has been anything but an honest man for a long time past," said Mr. Harmer: "still, I may say that he is anxious to reform; and at all events, I am certain that this particular robbery was not committed by him."
" Good God! and he still likcly to be hung for it! " "Certain," said Mr. Harmer; "unless we can prove an alibi. There is only one man who has it in his power to do so; and that man, Mr. Grimaldi, is yourself."
"Then," said Mr. Grimaldi, "you may command me."
In a lengthened and, to him, very interesting conversation which ensued, he learned that the robbery had been committed on the 13th of March, on the very night on which he had played for Lund's benefit at Woolwich, and afterwards supped with Mackintosh and his friends. This accidental circumstance was of course of the last importance to Mr. Harmer's client, and that gentleman receiving a promise from Grimaldi that he would make an affidavit of the fact, if required, wished him a good morning and left him.
Mackintosh being admitted to bail a few days afterwards, called upon Grimaldi to express his gratitude for the readiness with which he had consented to give his important evidence. The insight into the man's character which Mr. Harmer had given him, rendered him of course desirous to be as little in his company as possible; but as his kind nature would not allow him to wound his feelings more than was absolutely necessary in this interview (quite voluntary on his part), immediately after the exposure, and as he was moreover very desirous to put a few questions to him concerning the twelve ladies and gentlemen, he dissembled his dislike, and placed some refreshment before him, of which he partook. He then said, " Mr. Mackintosh, I cannot suppose you to be guilty of any act of this kind, for you have so many circumstances in your favour. Putting myself out of the question, � I am merely an actor, working for my subsistence, � you can call, to prove your alibi, gentlemen of station and undoubted respectability. Mr. Farmer and his friends, for instance, could not fail to have great weight with the court."
A very perceptible change overspread the countenance of Mr. Mackintosh when he heard these words. He shook his head with great vehemence, and looked strongly disposed to laugh. Grimaldi, who was one of the simplest creatures in all worldly matters that ever breathed, paused for a reply, but finding his acquaintance said nothing, added, "Besides, � the ladies. Dear me, Mr. Mackintosh, the appearance of those gentlemen's wives would be almost enough to acquit you at once."
"Mr. Grimaldi," said Mackintosh, with a slight tremor in his voice which, despite his serious situation, arose from an incipient tendency to laughter,� " Mr. Grimaldi, none of those women are married."
Grimaldi stared incredulously.
" Not one," said Mackintosh: "they only pass for married people � they are not really so."
" Then how-," said Grimaldi, waxing very angry, "-how dared you to invite my wife among them, and induce me to take her there !"
" I'm very sorry, sir," said the man, humbly.
"I'll tell you what, sir," interposed the other, "I'll be put off no longer: this is not the time for secrecy and falsehood, nor is it your interest to tell me anything but the truth. Now, I demand to know at once the real characters of these people, and why you shook your head when I mentioned your bringing them forward as witnesses."
"Mr. Grimaldi," replied the man, with great apparent humility, "they would not come if they were sent for; and besides, if they did, it would injure, not assist me, for they are all marked men."
" Marked men!" exclaimed Grimaldi.
"Too true, sir," said Mackintosh; "desperate characters everyone."
" What! Farmer?"
"He was sentenced to death at the Old Bailey, and got a reprieve while standing on the drop beneath the gallows."
" And Williams?"
"Williams is a forger of notes."
" And Jesson ?"
"He and Barber are both burglars."
" And the Jewish-looking man, � I forget the rascal's name, the man who sings Kelly's songs; what is he?"
" Oh, he helps to pass the forged notes, and has been three times in the pillory."
" There is one other man whom I have not named � that fellow Jones; what is he? a murderer ?"
" No, sir, only a burglar," answered Mackintosh. " Don't you recollect, Mr. Grimaldi, that he would not join the party to Woolwich?"
" Perfectly well."
" Well, sir, the truth is, he left town for Cheshire the same day the party was proposed, and he is the man who actually committed the deed I am charged with. He did the robbery. I found it out only to-day; but, though I know it, I can't prove it now:� and all those people in Charlotte-street are doing their best to get me found guilty, and save the real man, who is better liked among them than I am."
The enumeration of all these crimes, the reflection of having been intimately associated with such wretches, and the fear of having his innocence confounded with their guilt, quite overwhelmed their unfortunate victim. He was thoroughly stupified for some minutes, and then, starting up with uncontrollable fury, seized the man by the throat, and demanded how he durst take him among such a horde of villains, under pretence of being his friend. Mackintosh, alarmed at this unexpected ebullition of resentment, fell on his knees before him in the most abject manner, and poured forth many entreaties for mercy, and protestations of regret.
" Answer me one question," said Grimaldi, releasing his hold; " give me a plain and straightforward answer, for it's only by telling me the truth now, that you can hope for any leniency at my hands. What was your motive for taking me into the company of these men and women, and why did they want to have me among them?"
" I'll tell you the truth, by God!" replied Mackintosh, "and without the smallest attempt at disguise. They thought you must be very good company, and hearing me say that I knew you, gave me no rest until I consented to take you to the house in Charlotte-street; which I at last agreed to do, stipulating, upon my soul, that no harm should ever be done you, and that their real characters should be carefully concealed. You turned out as they expected; they were very much delighted with your songs and stories, and I was obliged to promise to bring you again. And that's the truth."
Although this explanation relieved him from some very terrible fears relative to the motives of these persons in seeking his companionship, it was a very galling reflection to have been playing the jester to a gang of robbers and vagabonds; and as it presented itself to his mind, it drove him almost mad with rage. Never accustomed to give way to his passions, the fit of fury into which he had worked himself was such that it was many hours before he recovered from its effects. Mr. Mackintosh, with much wisdom, took himself off the moment his confession was concluded.
About a week after this agreeable visit, Grimaldi was sitting at breakfast one morning, when his servant announced a lady, and in walked � as he sat paralysed with surprise � no less a person than Mrs. Farmer, who, sitting down with great composure and freedom, said, when the servant had left the room, "Well, Grim, here's Jack Mackintosh has got himself into a pretty hobble, hasn't he?"
"He has indeed," said Grim, all abroad with amazement, " and I am very sorry for it."
" Lord! you don't mean that!" returned the lady; "I'm sure it's more than I am. Of course, it's everybody's turn one time; and Jack's had a very long string." It being now thoroughly evident that the party, deeming longer concealment hopeless, wished to treat Grimaldi as one of themselves, and to imply that he had been acquainted with their real characters all along, he resolved to act decidedly; so, the moment the lady had finished speaking, said, "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 previciusly 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.-
Just in case you are wondering how things went. ( Or if you think you might read the full story, look away now - as they say on the news when giving out sports results. ) Mackintosh was put on trial, the prosecution lawyers were relying heavily on the public perception of clowns being true, whether on stage or away from it, and hoped that Grimaldi would act the fool in court; thus discrediting himself as a witness, and Mackintosh's pleas of innocence. In fact, Grimaldi;- in the face of the most obscene slurs on his and his wife's characters, kept his composure, and answered truthfully and accurately with the greatest of dignity, ( which was of no surprise whatsoever to his many friends. ) Mackintosh was found not guilty.
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