Kitabı oku: «Struggles amd Triumphs: or, Forty Years' Recollections of P.T. Barnum», sayfa 26

I waited one hour and a half by my watch for that mighty man to dine, and then he condescended to admit me to his presence. When I had stated my business, he demanded to know why I had not applied to him at his office in the proper hours, declaring that he would do no business with me at his house, and that I must come to him to-morrow. I went, and after a great deal of questioning and delay, I received the sought-for license to exhibit; but I have never seen more red-tape wound up on a single reel. All my men, all Tom Thumb’s attendants, the General and myself, in addition to showing our passports, were obliged to register our names, ages, occupations, and what not, in a huge book, and to answer all sorts of questions. At last we were permitted to go, and we opened our doors to the throng that came to see the General.

But a day or two after our exhibitions began, came a messenger with a command that I should appear before the Commissary of Police. I was very much frightened, I confess; I was sure that some of my men had been doing or saying something which had offended the authorities, and although I was conscious that my own conduct had been circumspect, I started for the police office in fear and trembling. On the way, I met Mr. Henry J. Raymond, editor of the New York Times, who was in company with a gentleman from Ohio, to whom he introduced me, and thereupon I stated my trouble, and my opinion that I was about to be fined, imprisoned, possibly beheaded, – I knew not what.

“Don’t be alarmed,” said Mr. Raymond, “we will keep an eye on the proceedings, and if you get into trouble we will try to get you out.”

Arriving at head-quarters, I was solemnly shown into the private office of the Commissary who asked me to be seated, and then rose and locked the door. This movement was by no means calculated to calm my agitation, and I at once exclaimed, in the best French I could summon:

“Sir, I demand an interpreter.”

“We do not need one,” he replied; “I can understand your French, and you can understand mine; I wish to consult you confidentially on a very private matter, and one that concerns me deeply.”

Somewhat reassured at this remarkable announcement, I begged him to proceed, which he did as follows:

“Do not be uneasy, sir, as this matter wholly affects me; I must state to you in entire secrecy that the half of my whole fortune is invested in the bonds of one of your American railways (giving me the name of the road), and as I have received no interest for a long time I am naturally alarmed for the safety of my property. I wish to know if the road is good for anything, and if so, why the interest on the bonds is not paid.”

I was happy to tell him that I had met that very morning a gentleman from Ohio who was well acquainted with the condition of this road, which was in his vicinity at home, and that I would speedily derive from him the desired information. The Commissary overwhelmed me with profuse thanks, adding: “Remember, the half of my entire fortune is at stake.”

Impressed with the magnitude of the loss he might be called upon to suffer, I ventured, as I was going out, to ask him the amount of his investment.

“Four thousand dollars,” was the reply.

When I thought of his liveried lackeys, his house, his style, his dignity, and his enormous consequence, I could not but smile to think that all these things were supported on his small salary and an “entire” fortune of $8,000, one-half of which was invested in the bonds of a doubtful American railway company.

We exhibited at Mayence and several other places in the vicinity, reaping golden harvests everywhere, and then went down the Rhine to Cologne. The journey down the river was very pleasant and we duly “did” the scenery and lions on the way. The boats were very ill-provided with sleeping accommodations, and one night, as I saw our party must sit up, I suggested that we should play a social game of euchre if we could get the cards. The clerk of the boat was prompt in affording the gratifying intelligence that he had cards to sell and I bought a pack, paying him a good round price. Immediately thereafter, the clerk, pocketing the money, stated that “it was nine o’clock and according to the regulations he must turn out all the lights” – which he did, leaving us to play cards, if we wished to, in the dark.

The slowness of the boat was a great annoyance and on one occasion I said to the captain:

“Look here! confound your slow old boat. I have a great mind to put on an opposition American line and burst up your business.”

He knew me, and knew something of Yankee enterprise, and he was evidently alarmed, but a thought came to his relief:

“You cannot do it,” he triumphantly exclaimed; “the government will not permit you to run more than nine miles an hour.”

We remained at Cologne only long enough to visit the famous cathedral and to see other curiosities and works of art, and then pushed on to Rotterdam and Amsterdam.

CHAPTER XXX.
IN HOLLAND

THE FINEST AND FLATTEST COUNTRY IN THE WORLD – SUPER-CLEANLINESS – HABITS AND CUSTOMS – “KREMIS” – THE ALBINO FAMILY – THE HAGUE – AUGUST BELMONT – JAPANESE MUSEUM – MANUFACTURED FABULOUS ANIMALS – A GENEROUS OFFER – VALUABLE PICTURES – AN ASTONISHED SUPERINTENDENT – BACK TO ENGLAND – EXHIBITIONS IN MANCHESTER – I RETURN AGAIN TO AMERICA – FUN ON THE VOYAGE – MOCK TRIALS – BARNUM AS A PROSECUTOR AND AS A PRISONER – COLD SHOULDERS IN NEW YORK – PREPARING TO MOVE INTO MY OLD HOME – CARELESS PAINTERS AND CARPENTERS – IRANISTAN BURNED TO THE GROUND – NEXT TO NO INSURANCE – SALE OF THE PROPERTY – ELIAS HOWE, JR.

HOLLAND gave me more genuine satisfaction than any other foreign country I have ever visited, if I except Great Britain. Redeemed as a large portion of the whole surface of the land has been from the bottom of the sea by the wonderful dykes, which are monuments of the industry of whole generations of human beavers, Holland seems to me the most curious as well as interesting country in the world. The people, too, with their quaint costumes, their extraordinary cleanliness, their thrift, industry and frugality, pleased me very much. It is the universal testimony of all travellers that the Hollanders are the neatest and most economical people among all nations. So far as cleanliness is concerned, in Holland it is evidently not next to, but far ahead of godliness. It is rare, indeed, to meet a ragged, dirty, or drunken person. The people are very temperate and economical in their habits; and even the very rich, – and there is a vast amount of wealth in the country – live with great frugality, though all of the people live well.

As for the scenery I cannot say much for it, since it is only diversified by thousands of windmills, which are made to do all kinds of work, from grinding grain to pumping water from the inside of the dykes back to the sea again. As I exhibited the General only in Rotterdam and Amsterdam, and to no great profit in either city, we spent most of our time in rambling about to see what was to be seen. In the country villages it seemed as if every house was scrubbed twice and white-washed once every day in the week, excepting Sunday. Some places were almost painfully pure, and I was in one village where horses and cattle were not allowed to go through the streets, and no one was permitted to wear their boots or shoes in the houses. There is a general and constant exercise of brooms, pails, floor brushes and mops all over Holland, and in some places even, this kind of thing is carried so far, I am told, that the only trees set out are scrub-oaks.

The reason, I think, why our exhibitions were not more successful in Rotterdam and Amsterdam, is that the people are too frugal to spend much money for amusement, but they and their habits and ways afforded us so much amusement, that we were quite willing they should give our entertainment the “go by,” as they generally did. We were in Amsterdam at the season of “Kremis,” or the annual Fair which is held in all the principal towns, and where shows of all descriptions are open, at prices for admission ranging from one to five pennies, and are attended by nearly the whole population. For the people generally, this one great holiday seems all-sufficient for the whole year. I went through scores of booths, where curiosities and monstrosities of all kinds were exhibited, and was able to make some purchases and engagements for the American Museum. Among these, was the Albino family, consisting of a man, his wife, and son, who were by far the most interesting and attractive specimens of their class I had ever seen.

We visited the Hague, the capital and the finest city in Holland. It is handsomely and regularly laid out, and contains a beautiful theatre, a public picture-gallery, which contains some of the best works of Vandyke, Paul Potter, and other Dutch masters, while the museum is especially rich in rarities from China and Japan. When we arrived at the Hague, Mr. August Belmont, who had been the United States Minister at that court, had just gone home; but I heard many encomiums passed upon him and his family, and I was told some pretty good stories of his familiarity with the king, and of the “jolly times” these two personages frequently enjoyed together. I did not miss visiting the great government museum, as I wished particularly to see the rich collection of Japan ware and arms, made during the many years when the Dutch carried on almost exclusively the entire foreign trade with the Japanese. I spent several days in minutely examining these curious manufactures of a people, who were then almost as little known to nations generally as are the inhabitants of the planet Jupiter.

On the first day of my visit to this museum, I stood for an hour before a large case containing a most unique and extraordinary collection of fabulous animals, made from paper and other materials, and looking as natural and genuine as the stuffed skins of any animals in the American Museum. There were serpents two yards long, with a head and pair of feet at each end; frogs as large as a man, with human hands and feet; turtles with three heads; monkeys with two heads and six legs; scores of equally curious monstrosities; and at least two dozen mermaids, of all sorts and sizes. Looking at these “sirens” I easily divined from whence the Fejee mermaid originated.

While I was standing near this remarkable cabinet the superintendent of the Museum came, and, introducing himself to me, asked me from what country I came and how I liked the Museum. I told him that I was an American and that the collection was interesting and remarkable, adding:

“You seem to have a great variety of mermaids here.”

“Yes,” he replied; “the Japanese exercise great ingenuity in manufacturing fabulous animals, especially mermaids; and by the way,” he added, “your great showman, Barnum, is said to have succeeded in humbugging the Americans to a very considerable extent, by means of what he claimed to be a veritable mermaid.”

I said that such was the story, though I believed that Barnum only used the mermaid as an advertisement for his Museum.

“Perhaps so,” responded the superintendent, “but he is a shrewd and industrious manager. We have had frequent applications from his European agents for duplicates from our collection and have occasionally sold some to them to be sent to America.”

The superintendent then politely asked me to go into his office, as he had something to offer me, which, as an American gentleman, he was sure I would prize highly; but the business was of a strictly confidential character. He asked me to be seated, and cautiously locking the door and drawing his chair near to mine, he informed me in a tone scarcely above a whisper that he was the executor of the estate of a wealthy gentleman, recently deceased, with power to dispose of the property, which included a large number of exceedingly valuable ancient and modern paintings.

“You must be well aware,” he continued, “that my countrymen would be extremely unwilling to permit these precious specimens of art to leave Holland, but,” and here he gave my hand a slight but most friendly squeeze, “I have such a high respect, I might almost say reverence for your great republic that I am only too happy in the opportunity now afforded me of allowing you to take a very few of these fine paintings to America at an unprecedentedly low price.”

I thought he was a little too generous, and I gave him what the Irishman called an “evasive answer;” but this only seemed to stimulate him to further efforts to effect a sale, – so he turned to his memorandum book and pointed out the names of gentlemen from Boston, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and New Orleans, who had ordered one or more cases from this large gallery of paintings. This exhibition was conclusive, and I at once said that I would not decide to purchase till I returned from Amsterdam. I quite understood the whole thing; but not to leave my anxious friend too long in suspense I quietly handed my card to him, remarking, “Perhaps you have heard of that name before.”

His cheeks were fairly crimson; “surely,” said he, “you are not Mr. Barnum, of the New York Museum?”

“Nobody else,” I replied with a laugh.

He stammered out an apology for his mermaid remarks, but I patted him on the shoulder in a friendly way, telling him it was “all right,” and that I considered it a capital joke. This re-assured him and we then had a very pleasant half-hour’s conversation, in which he gave me several valuable hints of curiosities to be procured at the Hague and elsewhere in Holland, and we parted good friends.

A week afterwards, a young gentleman from Boston introduced himself to me at Amsterdam and remarked that he knew I was there for he had been so informed by the museum superintendent at the Hague. “And, by the by,” he added, “as soon as this superintendent discovered I was from America, he told me if I would go into his office he would show me the greatest curiosity in the Museum. I went, and he pointed to the card of ‘P. T. Barnum’ which he had conspicuously nailed up over his desk; he then told me about your visit to the museum last week.”

“Did he sell you any paintings?” I asked.

“No,” was the reply; “but he informed me that as executor of an estate, including a fine gallery, he could sell me a few cases at a very low price, mainly on account of his high regard for the great republic to which I belonged.”

I have no doubt that this estate is still unsettled, and that a few of the valuable paintings, if cheap Dutch artists keep up the supply, are still for sale to the public generally, and to representatives of the revered republic especially. Undoubtedly this kind of business will continue so long as Waterloo relics are manufactured at Birmingham, and are sent to be plowed in and dug up again on the memorable field where Wellington met Napoleon. And how many very worthy persons there are, like the superintendent of the Hague Museum, who have been terribly shocked at the story of the Fejee Mermaid and the Woolly Horse!

After a truly delightful visit in Holland, we went back to England; and, proceeding to Manchester, opened our exhibition. For several days the hall was crowded to overflowing at each of the three, and sometimes four, entertainments we gave every day. By this time, my wife and two youngest daughters had come over to London, and I hired furnished lodgings in the suburbs where they could live within the strictest limits of economy. It was necessary now for me to return for a few weeks to America, to assist personally in forwarding a settlement of the clock difficulties. So leaving the little General in the hands of trusty and competent agents to carry on the exhibitions in my absence, I set my face once more towards home and the west, and took steamer at Liverpool for New York.

The trip, like most of the passages which I have made across the Atlantic, was an exceedingly pleasant one. These frequent voyages were to me the rests, the reliefs from almost unremitting industry, anxiety, and care, and I always managed to have more or less fun on board ship every time I crossed the ocean. During the present trip, for amusement and to pass away the time, the passengers got up a number of mock trials which afforded a vast deal of fun. A judge was selected, jurymen drawn, prisoners arraigned, counsel employed, and all the formalities of a court established. I have the vanity to think that if my good fortune had directed me to that profession I should have made a very fair lawyer, for I have always had a great fondness for debate and especially for the cross-examination of witnesses, unless that witness was P. T. Barnum in examination under supplementary proceedings at the instance of some note-shaver who had bought a clock note at a discount of thirty-six per cent. In this mock court, I was unanimously chosen as prosecuting attorney, and as the court was established expressly to convict, I had no difficulty in carrying the jury and securing the punishment of the prisoner. A small fine was generally imposed, and the fund thus collected was given to a poor sailor boy who had fallen from the mast and broken his leg.

After several of these trials had been held, a dozen or more of the passengers secretly put their heads together and resolved to place the “showman” on trial for his life. An indictment covering twenty pages was drawn up by several legal gentlemen among the passengers, charging him with being the Prince of Humbugs, and enumerating a dozen special counts, containing charges of the most absurd and ridiculous description. Witnesses were then brought together, and privately instructed what to say and do. Two or three days were devoted to arranging this mighty prosecution. When everything was ready, I was arrested, and the formidable indictment read to me. I saw at a glance that time and talent had been brought into requisition, and that my trial was to be more elaborate than any that had preceded it. I asked for half an hour to prepare for my defence, which was granted. Meanwhile, seats were arranged to accommodate the court and spectators, and extra settees were placed for the ladies on the upper deck, where they could look down, see and hear all that transpired. Curiosity was on tip-toe, for it was evident that this was to be a long, exciting and laughable trial. At the end of half an hour the judge was on the bench, the jury had taken their places; the witnesses were ready; the counsel for the prosecution, four in number, with pens, ink, and paper in profusion, were seated and everything seemed ready. I was brought in by a special constable, the indictment read, and I was asked to plead guilty, or not guilty. I rose, and in a most solemn manner stated that I could not conscientiously plead guilty or not guilty; that I had in fact committed many of the acts charged in the indictment, but these acts I was ready to show were not criminal, but on the contrary, worthy of praise. My plea was received and the first witness called.

He testified to having visited the prisoner’s Museum, and of being humbugged by the Fejee Mermaid; the nurse of Washington; and by other curiosities, natural and unnatural. The questions and answers having been all arranged in advance, everything worked smoothly. Acting as my own counsel, I cross-examined the witness by simply asking whether he saw anything else in the Museum besides what he had mentioned.

“Oh! yes, I saw thousands of other things.”

“Were they curious?”

“Certainly; many of them very astonishing.”

“Did you witness a dramatic representation in the Museum?”

“Yes, sir, a very good one.”

“What did you pay for all this?”

“Twenty-five cents.”

“That will do, sir; you can step down.”

A second, third and fourth witness were called, and the examination was similar to the foregoing. Another witness then appeared to testify in regard to another count in the indictment. He stated that for several weeks he was the guest of the prisoner at his country residence, Iranistan, and he gave a most amusing description of the various schemes and contrivances which were there originated for the purpose of being carried out at some future day in the Museum.

“How did you live there?” asked one of the counsel for the prosecution.

“Very well, indeed, in the daytime,” was the reply; “plenty of the best to eat and drink, except liquors. In bed, however, it was impossible to sleep. I rose the first night, struck a light, and on examination found myself covered with myriads of little bugs, so small as to be almost imperceptible. By using my microscope I discovered them to be infantile bedbugs. After the first night I was obliged to sleep in the coach-house in order to escape this annoyance.”

Of course this elicited much mirth. The first question put on the cross-examination was this:

“Are you a naturalist, sir?”

The witness hesitated. In all the drilling that had taken place before the trial, neither the counsel nor witnesses had thought of what questions might come up in the cross-examination, and now, not seeing the drift of question, the witness seemed a little bewildered, and the counsel for the prosecution looked puzzled.

The question was repeated with some emphasis.

“No, sir!” replied the witness, hesitatingly, “I am not a naturalist.”

“Then, sir, not being a naturalist, dare you affirm that those microscopic insects were not humbugs instead of bedbugs” – (here the prisoner was interrupted by a universal shout of laughter, in which the solemn judge himself joined) – “and if they were humbugs, I suppose that even the learned counsel opposed to me, will not claim that they were out of place?”

“They may have been humbugs,” replied the witness.

“That will do, sir – you may go,” said I; and at the same time turning to the array of counsel, I remarked, with a smile, “You had better have a naturalist for your next witness, gentlemen.”

“Don’t be alarmed, sir, we have got one, and we will now introduce him,” replied the counsel.

The next witness testified that he was a planter from Georgia, that some years since the prisoner visited his plantation with a show, and that while there he discovered an old worthless donkey belonging to the planter, and bought him for five dollars – the next year the witness visited Iranistan, the country seat of the prisoner, and, while walking about the grounds, his old donkey, recognizing his former master, brayed; “whereupon,” continued the witness, “I walked up to the animal and found that two men were engaged in sticking wool upon him, and this animal was afterwards exhibited by the prisoner as the woolly horse.”

The whole court – spectators, and even the “prisoner” himself were convulsed with laughter at the gravity with which the planter gave his very ludicrous testimony.

“What evidence have you,” I inquired, “that this was the same donkey which you sold to me?”

“The fact that the animal recognized me, as was evident from his braying as soon as he saw me.”

“Are you a naturalist, sir?”

“Yes, I am,” replied the planter, with firm emphasis, as much as to say, you can’t catch me as you did the other witness.

“Oh! you are a naturalist, are you? Then, sir, I ask you, as a naturalist, do you not know it to be a fact in natural history that one jackass always brays as soon as he sees another?”

This question was received with shouts of laughter, in the midst of which the nonplussed witness backed out of court, and all the efforts of special constables, and even the high sheriff himself, were unavailing in getting him again on the witness stand.

This trial lasted two days, to the great delight of all on board. After my success with the “naturalist” not one half of the witnesses would appear against me. In my final argument I sifted the testimony, analyzed its bearings, ruffled the learned counsel, disconcerted the witnesses, flattered the judge and jury, and when the judge had delivered his charge, the jury acquitted me without leaving their seats. The judge received the verdict, and then announced that he should fine the naturalist for the mistake he made, as to the cause of the donkey’s braying, and he should also fine the several witnesses, who, through fear of the cross-fire, had refused to testify.

The trial afforded a pleasant topic of conversation for the rest of the voyage; and the morning before arriving in port, a vote of thanks was passed to me, in consideration of the amusement I had intentionally and unintentionally furnished to the passengers during the voyage.

After my arrival in New York, oftentimes in passing up and down Broadway I saw old and prosperous friends coming, but before I came anywhere near them, if they espied me they would dodge into a store, or across the street, or opportunely meet some one with whom they had pressing business, or they would be very much interested in something that was going on over the way or on top of the City Hall. I was delighted at this, for it gave me at once a new sensation and a new experience. “Ah, ha!” I said to myself; “my butterfly friends, I know you now; and what is more to the point, if ever I get out of this bewilderment of broken clock-wheels, I shall not forget you”; and I heartily thanked the old clock concern for giving me the opportunity to learn this sad but most needful lesson. I had a very few of the same sort of experiences in Bridgeport, and they proved valuable to me.

Mr. James D. Johnson, of Bridgeport, one of my assignees, who had written to me that my personal presence might facilitate a settlement of my affairs, told me soon after my arrival that there was no probability of disposing of Iranistan at present, and that I might as well move my family into the house. I had arrived in August and my family followed me from London in September, and October 20, 1857, my second daughter, Helen, was married in the house of her elder sister, Mrs. D. W. Thompson, in Bridgeport, to Mr. Samuel H. Hurd.

Meanwhile, Iranistan which had been closed and unoccupied for more than two years, was once more opened to the carpenters and painters whom Mr. Johnson sent there to put the house in order. He agreed with me that it was best to keep the property as long as possible, and in the interval, till a purchaser for the estate appeared, or till it was forced to auction, to take up the clock notes whenever they were offered. The workmen who were employed in the house were specially instructed not to smoke there, but nevertheless it was subsequently discovered that some of the men were in the habit occasionally of going into the main dome to eat their dinners which they brought with them, and that they stayed there awhile after dinner to smoke their pipes. In all probability, one of these lighted pipes was left on the cushion which covered the circular seat in the dome and ignited the tow with which the cushion was stuffed. It may have been days and even weeks before this smouldering tow fire burst into flame.

I was staying at the Astor House, in New York, when, on the morning of December 18, 1857, I received a telegram from my brother Philo F. Barnum, dated at Bridgeport and informing me that Iranistan was burned to the ground that morning. The alarm was given at eleven o’clock on the night of the 17th, and the fire burned till one o’clock on the morning of the 18th. My beautiful Iranistan was gone! This was not only a serious loss to my estate, for it had probably cost at least $150,000, but it was generally regarded as a public calamity. It was the only building in its peculiar style of architecture, of any pretension, in America, and many persons visited Bridgeport every year expressly to see Iranistan. The insurance on the mansion had usually been about $62,000, but I had let some of the policies expire without renewing them, so that at the time of the fire there was only $28,000 insurance on the property. Most of the furniture and pictures were saved, generally in a damaged state.

Subsequently, my assignees sold the grounds and out-houses of Iranistan to the late Elias Howe, Jr., the celebrated inventor of the needle for sewing-machines. The property brought $50,000, which, with the $28,000 insurance, went into my assets to satisfy clock creditors. It was Mr. Howe’s intention to erect a splendid mansion on the estate, but his untimely and lamented death prevented the fulfilment of the plan. The estate (in 1869) was to be divided among Mr. Howe’s three children and in all probability three houses will be built upon the beautiful grounds.