PRESENTED TO KING LEOPOLD AND THE QUEEN--THE GENERAL'S JEWELS
STOLEN--THE FIELD OF WATERLOO--AN ACCIDENT--AN EXPENSIVE
EQUIPAGE--"THE CUSTOM OF THE COUNTRY."
The day after the arrival of the party in Brussels they were
summoned to the palace. The king and queen had seen the General
in London, but they wished their children and the distinguished
people of the court to have the same pleasure.
After a delightful visit they came away, the General, as usual,
laden with gifts.
The following day the exhibition opened, and from the first was
crowded by throngs of the best people in the city. One day, in
the midst of the exhibition, it was discovered that the case
containing all the valuable presents Tom Thumb had received from
royalty' etc., was missing.
The alarm was instantly given, and the police notified. A reward
was offered of 2,000 francs, and, after a day or two, the thief
was captured and the jewels returned. After that the case of
presents was more carefully guarded.
Everyone who goes to Brussels is supposed to visit the field of
Waterloo; so, before they left, the entire party--Tom Thumb,
Barnum, Prof. Pinte (tutor), and Mr. Stratton (father of the
General), and Mr. H. G. Sherman, went together.
After visiting the church in the village of Waterloo and viewing
the memorial tablets there, they passed to the house where Lord
Uxbridge--Marquis of Anglesey--had had his leg amputated. There
is a little monument in the garden over the shattered limb, and a
part of the boot that covered it was seen in the house. Barnum
procured a three-inch bit of the boot for his Museum, at the same
time remarking, that if the lady in charge was as liberal to all
visitors, that boot had held out wonderfully since 1815.
On approaching the ground they were beset by a dozen or more
guides, each one professing to know the exact spot where every
man had stood, and each claiming to have himself taken part in
the struggle, although most of them were less than twenty-five,
and the battle had been fought some thirty years before. They
finally accepted one old man, who at first declared that he had
been killed in the front ranks, but afterward acknowledged that
he had only been wounded and left on the field for dead three
days.
After having the location of Napoleon's Guard, the Duke of
Wellington, the portion of the field where Blucher entered with
the Prussian army, pointed out to them, and the spots where fell
Sir Alexander Gordon and other celebrities, they asked the guide
if he knew where Captain Tippitiwichet, of Connecticut, was
killed? "Oh, oui, Monsieur," replied the guide confidently. After
pointing out the precise spots where fictitious friends from
Coney Island, New Jersey, Cape Cod and Saratoga had received
their death-wounds, they paid the old humbug and dismissed him.
Upon leaving the field they were met by another crowd of peasants
with relics of the battle for sale. Barnum bought a large number
of pistols, bullets, brass French eagles, buttons, etc., for the
Museum, and the others were equally liberal in their purchases.
They bought also maps, guide-books and pictures, until Mr.
Stratton expressed his belief that the "darned old battle of
Waterloo" had cost more since it was fought than it ever did
before.
Some months afterwards, while they were in Birmingham, they made
the acquaintance of a firm who manufactured and sent to Waterloo
barrels of these "relics" every year.
Four or five miles on the road home they had the misfortune to
break the axle-tree of the carriage. It was past one o'clock, and
the exhibition was advertised to commence in Brussels at two. Of
course, they could not expect to walk the distance in less than
three hours, and Barnum was disposed to give up the afternoon
performance altogether. But Mr. Stratton could not bear the idea
of losing six or eight hundred francs, so, accompanied by the
interpreter, Prof. Pinte, he rushed down the road to a
farm-house, followed leisurely by the rest of the party.
Mr. Stratton asked the old farmer if he had a carriage. He had
not. "Have you no vehicle?" he inquired.
"Yes, I have that vehicle," he replied, pointing to an old cart
filled with manure, and standing in his barnyard.
"Thunder! is that all the conveyance you have got?" asked
Stratton. Being assured that it was, Stratton concluded that it
was better to ride in a manure-cart than not to get to Brussels
in time.
"What will you ask to drive us to Brussels in three-quarters of
an hour?" demanded Stratton.
"It is impossible," replied the farmer; "I should want two hours
for my horse to do it in."
"But ours is a very pressing case, and if we are not there in
time we lose more than five hundred francs," said Stratton.
The old farmer pricked up his ears at this, and agreed to get
them to Brussels in an hour for eighty francs. Stratton tried to
beat him down, but it was of no use.
"Oh, go it, Stratton," said Sherman; "eighty francs you know is
only sixteen dollars, and you will probably save a hundred by it,
for I expect a full house at our afternoon exhibition to-day."
"But I have already spent about ten dollars for nonsense," said
Stratton, "and we shall have to pay for the broken carriage
besides."
"But what can you do better?" chimed in Professor Pinte.
"It is an outrageous extortion to charge sixteen dollars for an
old horse and cart to go ten miles. Why, in old Bridgeport, I
could get it done for three dollars," replied Stratton, in a tone
of vexation
"It is the custom of the country," said Professor Pinte, "and we
must submit to it."
"Well, it's a thundering mean custom, anyhow," said Stratton,
"and I won't stand such imposition."
"But what shall we do?" earnestly inquired Mr. Pinte. "It may be
a high price, but it is better to pay that than to lose our
afternoon performance and five or six hundred francs."
This appeal to the pocket touched Stratton's feelings; so,
submitting to the extortion, he replied to our interpreter,
"Well, tell the old robber to dump his dung-cart as soon as
possible, or we shall lose half an hour in starting."
The cart was "dumped" and a large, lazy-looking Flemish horse was
attached to it with a rope harness. Some boards were laid across
the cart for seats, the party tumbled into the rustic vehicle, a
red-haired boy, son of the old farmer, mounted the horse, and
Stratton gave orders to "get along." "Wait a moment," said the
farmer, "you have not paid me yet." "I'll pay your boy when we
get to Brussels, provided he gets there within the hour," replied
Stratton.
"Oh, he is sure to get there in an hour," said the farmer, "but I
can't let him go unless you pay in advance." The minutes were
flying rapidly, the anticipated loss of the day exhibition of
General Tom Thumb flitted before his eyes, and Stratton, in very
desperation, thrust his hand into his pocket and drew forth
sixteen five-franc pieces, which he dropped, one at a time, into
the hand, of the farmer, and then called out to the boy, "There
now, do try to see if you can go ahead."
The boy did go ahead, but it was with such a snail's pace that it
would have puzzled a man of tolerable eyesight to have determined
whether the horse was moving or standing still. To make it still
more interesting, it commenced raining furiously. As they had
left Brussels in a coach, and the morning had promised a pleasant
day, they had omitted umbrellas. They were soon soaked to the
skin, but they "grinned and bore it" a while without grumbling.
At length Stratton, who was almost too angry to speak, desired
Mr. Pinte to ask the red haired boy if he expected to walk his
horse all the way to Brussels.
"Certainly," replied the boy; "he is too big and fat to do
anything but walk. We never trot him."
Stratton was terrified as he thought of the loss of the day
exhibition; and he cursed the boy, the cart, the rain, the luck,
and even the battle of Waterloo itself. But it was all of no use;
the horse would not run, but the rain did--down their backs.
At two o'clock, the time appointed for the exhibition, they were
yet some seven miles from Brussels. The horse walked slowly and
philosophically through the pitiless storm, the steam
majestically rising from the old manure-cart, to the no small
disturbance of their unfortunate olfactories. "It will take two
hours to get to Brussels at this rate," growled Stratton. "Oh,
no," replied the boy; "it will only take about two hours from the
time we started."
"But your father agreed to get us there in an hour," answered
Stratton.
"I know it," responded the boy, "but he knew it would take more
than two."
"I'll sue him for damages, by thunder!" said Stratton.
"Oh, there would be no use in that," chimed in Mr. Pinte, "for
you could get no satisfaction in this country."
"But I shall lose more than a hundred dollars by being two hours
instead of one," said Stratton.
"They care nothing about that; all they care for is your eighty
francs," remarked Pinte.
"But they have lied and swindled me," replied Stratton.
"Oh, you must not mind that; it is the custom of the country."
The party arrived in Brussels precisely two hours and a half from
the time they left the farmer's house. Of course it was too late
for the afternoon performance, and hundreds of people had been
turned away disappointed.