Chapter IV: From Amateur to Professional

"I once was a dab at Penny Readings."--_Ruddygore_.

"What first put it into your head to give entertainments?" is a question I have been asked hundreds of times, and my reply has always been, "I'm sure I do not know." Nor do I know to this day. I used to play the piano very well at the age of twelve. What was considered "very well" for a boy twenty-eight years ago, no doubt would be considered execrable in these days of Hoffmanns and Hegners. I remember, when I played, ladies used to say, "How odd it seems to see a boy playing." It was thought effeminate to play the piano.

Besides playing from music, I also played a good deal by ear, which was considered demoralising, and still _is_ by those who know nothing about it. Playing correctly by ear is a gift that should be encouraged. I was delighted one afternoon recently, when calling upon Mrs. Kendal, the well-known actress, to see her little boy, of about ten or eleven, sit down at the grand piano and play off by ear, perfectly correctly, "Le revenant de la revue" and one of my own songs. It is a gift delightful to the one fortunately endowed with it; and it does not follow that one should not also play correctly from music.

For my own pleasure (I do not know whether it was for other people's), I used to sing the comic songs, "Johnny Sands," "The Cork Leg," and "The Lost Child," to my own pianoforte accompaniment. I was never taught the tunes or words of these songs, but picked them up as children do, and reproduced them at the piano in a fashion of my own.

One delightful consequence of this was, that the number of my invitations to juvenile parties was considerably increased. I added to my stock of songs of course, and so found I was kept up to a late hour--at grown-up parties, too. Though not too young to learn and sing these songs, I was not old enough to always understand their purport.

There was a song, about this time, which was all the rage in London. The tune was heard on every organ and band, in every ballroom and theatre. I bought a penny song-book with the words, which I learned off by heart, and, as usual, picked out my accompaniment on the piano. One evening I launched it before the grown-up people who always turn up at the latter end of a juvenile party, and some of whom generally requested that I should be kept and made to sing to them. My friend Frank Burnand, in his incomparable _Happy Thoughts_, tells how he was singing a comic song before an unsympathetic audience, and suddenly remembering a verse was not quite proper, backed out of it. In my own case, I had no notion that the verse was _risque_. I did not even understand it; so out it came with the full force of my penny-whistle voice. I never heard so much laughter in a room before. There was a general request for the song to be encored; but this was just a little too much for the feelings of my fond and hitherto proud mother, who made a dash at me, and shut me and the piano up at the same moment.

There is a period when the voice breaks, but I do not think I ever had a voice to break; at all events, I never remember the time when I ceased singing comic songs.

When half-way through my teens I began to write snatches of songs and illustrations, and received much help and encouragement from my father. He used to take me to the old Gallery of Illustration, to hear the inimitable John Parry; and this infused not only a new life, but a totally different style, into my work. Still in my teens, I used to be asked to the grown-up parties of Mr. Toole, Mr. Charles Millward, Mr. Henry Neville, and Mr. John Hollingshead, the last-named of whom, only the other day, reminded me that I never could be persuaded to sing before supper, excusing myself on the ground that the songs always went so much better _after_ supper. So they did, and so they still do.

At Mr. Hollingshead's I first met Mr. Henry S. Leigh, then a contributor to _Fun_, and the author of "Carols of Cockayne," "Gillott and Goosequill," &c. He was himself a great admirer of John Parry; and when I became intimate with him, in after years, used to show me how Parry sang "Wanted, a Governess," "The Old Bachelor," "The Dejeuner a la Fourchette," &c., all of which I have myself sung at times, after a fashion. At Hollingshead's (in Colebrook Row), Leigh sang "The Twins," which became an enormously successful song, and he gave me a copy of it. Subsequently, I sang most of Leigh's songs _en amateur_; and after my appearance as a professional entertainer, he specially wrote "The Seven Ages of Song" and "The Parrot and the Cat" for me.

As a boy, I used, at certain evening parties, to accompany Toole in "A Norrible Tale" and "Bob Simmons," and considered it a high honour. I used to sing some of the songs of Henry J. Byron, a constant visitor to my father's house, and received much encouragement from him; also from John Oxenford, the dramatic critic of _The Times_; Andrew Halliday; T.W. Robertson, the dramatic author, and scores of others. It will be seen, therefore, that though I commenced on my own account, I was destined to be brought up in an atmosphere of literature and art. But neither my father nor myself was the first representative of the family on the public platform.

Judge Talfourd, the author of _Ion_, had heard my father recite over and over again, and strongly advised him to take up lecturing and reading as a profession. He followed the popular judge's advice, and gave his first lecture, entitled "Wit and Humour," on the day of my birth, at Reading, his native town. In a speech on the occasion of my coming of age he made use of these felicitous words: "I went down to Reading to make my first appearance in _public_ at _my_ native place, and, on my return, found my eldest son had made _his_ first appearance in _private_ at his native place."

That was forty years ago; but I propose presenting my readers with a copy of a programme, having reference to an uncle, dated twenty-five years before that. The programme is quaintly illustrated with tiny blocks of very primitive engravings, illustrating the characters personated:

BY PERMISSION OF THE WORSHIPFUL THE BAILIFFS.

NEW THEATRE, BRIDGNORTH.

For Two Evenings only.

On TUESDAY, the 26th, and Saturday, the 30th July, 1825.

Mr. GROSSMITH, sen., takes this opportunity of laying before the public the following high encomium passed on his son, kindly pointed out to him by a clergyman of Dudley. The numerous and repeated paragraphs which have appeared in all the London and provincial papers cannot have escaped the eye of anyone; but this work will, no doubt, escape the eye of some.

_Abstracted from the_ "New Monthly Magazine," No. 45, July 1st, 1825 (page 299).

"The little Irish boy, Master Burke, betokens a dramatic instinct which can scarcely be mistaken. We saw in the country the other day a child, seven years old, named GROSSMITH, who displayed even a deeper vein of natural humour; actually revelling in the jests he uttered and acted; singing droll songs with the truth of a musician and the vivacity of a comedian; and speaking passages of tragedy with an earnestness and grace as though the dagger and bowl had been his playthings, and poetry his proper language."

Characters in the introduction which Master Grossmith imitates. (Here come in nine small illustrations of figures.)

Characters in _Pecks of Troubles_ which Master Grossmith personates. (Here appear seven larger illustrations.)

THE CELEBRATED
INFANT
ROSCIUS,
MASTER GROSSMITH,

From Reading, Berks
(Only seven years and a quarter old),

Intends giving Two Evenings' Amusements, when he feels confident he will meet with that support he has never failed to experience in all the towns he has visited. The Infant Roscius will commence his performance with his

ADVENTURES IN THE READING COACH,

When he will imitate the following characters, namely: a Frenchman--a Fat Lady--an Affected Lady--a Tipsy Politican--a Stage Manager--Two Candidates for the Stage--and his own Success.

Master Grossmith will then go through the Humorous and Laughable Comedy of

PECKS OF TROUBLES;
OR,
The Distress of a French Barber.

(1) MISS DEBORAH GRUNDY
(An Old Maid in Love) MASTER GROSSMITH!

(2) SPINDLESHANKS
(A Dandy Fortune-Hunter) MASTER GROSSMITH!!

(3) MONSIEUR FRIZEUR
(In a Peck of Troubles
about cutting old
Grundy's face--
with a song) ... MASTER GROSSMITH!!!

(4) OLD GRUNDY
(In search of the
Frenchman, to give
him a receipt in full
for his carelessness) MASTER GROSSMITH!!!!

(5) BETTY, THE HOUSEMAID
(In love with Corporal
Rattle--with a song,
"Yes, aye, for a
Soldier's Wife I'll
go") ... ... ... MASTER GROSSMITH!!!!!

(6) CORPORAL RATTLE
(As hot as gunpowder;
in love with Betty) MASTER GROSSMITH!!!!!!

(7) TIMOTHY CLODHOPPER
(A servant-of-all-work
to old Grundy, bewailing
his unfortunate love
for Betty, who has run
off with Corporal
Rattle--with the
laughable song of
"The Washing Tub,"
which finishes the
piece ... ... ... MASTER GROSSMITH!!!!!!!

After which, "Betsy Baker," with other Comic Songs.