HIS SUCCESSFUL PUPIL--MAKING MANY FRIENDS IN LONDON--ACQUAINTANCE
WITH THACKERAY--A COMEDY OF ERRORS IN A GERMAN CUSTOM
HOUSE--ARISTOCRATIC PATRONAGE AT FASHIONABLE RESORTS--BARNUM'S
IMPRESSIONS OF HOLLAND AND THE DUTCH.
Years ago Barnum had known Albert Smith in London as a dentist,
literary "hack," occasional writer for Punch and various
magazines, etc., not achieving notable success in any of these
undertakings. He now found him the most eminent and successful
showman in the city, occupying Barnum's old quarters in Egyptian
Hall. The chief attraction of his show was a panorama of Mont
Blanc, accompanying which he gave a lecture, descriptive of the
mountain and relating his own experiences in climbing it. When
Barnum called upon him he found him just as unassuming and
cordial as ever; he was forthwith entered on the free list at all
of Smith's entertainments, and the two often dined together at
the Garrick Club.
The first time Barnum attended Smith's exhibition, the latter
gave him a sly wink from the stage at the moment of his
describing a scene in the golden chamber of St. Ursula's church
in Cologne, where the old sexton narrating the story of the ashes
and bones to the eleven thousand innocent virgins, who, according
to tradition, were sacrificed on a certain occasion. One of the
characters whom he pretended to have met several times on his
trip to Mont Blanc, was a Yankee, whom he named "Phineas
Cutecraft." The wink came at the time he introduced Phineas in
the Cologne church, and made him say at the end of the sexton's
story about the virgins' bones:
"Old fellow, what will you take for that hull lot of bones? I
want them for my museum in America!"
When the question had been interpreted to the old German, he
exclaimed in horror, according to Albert Smith:
"Mine Gott! it is impossible! We will never sell the virgins'
bones!"
"Never mind," replied Phineas Cutecraft, "I'll send another lot
of bones to my museum, swear mine are the real bones of the
Virgins of Cologne, and burst up your show!"
This always excited the heartiest laughter; but Mr. Smith knew
very well that Barnum would at once recognize it as a paraphrase
of the scene wherein they, too, had figured in 1844, at the
porter's lodge of Warwick Castle. "In the course of the
entertainment," says Barnum, "I found he had woven in numerous
anecdotes I had told him at that time, and many incidents of our
excursion were also travestied and made to contribute to the
interest of his description of the ascent of Mont Blanc."
When they dined together at the club that day, Smith introduced
Barnum to several of his acquaintances as his teacher in the show
business. He also remarked to Barnum that he must have recognized
as old friends many of the incidents and jokes in the lecture.
Barnum replied that he did. "Well," said Smith, "of course you as
a showman, know very well that, to win popular success. we have
to appropriate and adapt to our uses everything of the sort that
we can get hold of."
By thus engrafting his various experiences upon this Mont Blanc
entertainment, Albert Smith succeeded in serving up a salmagundi
feast which was relished alike by royal and less distinguished
palates.
When William Makepeace Thackeray first visited this country, he
brought a letter of introduction to Barnum, from Albert Smith,
and called on the showman at his New York museum. He spent an
hour or more there, asking much advice of Barnum in regard to the
management of the course of lectures on "The English Humorists of
the Eighteenth Century," which he proposed to deliver, as he did
afterwards, with very great success, in the principal cities of
the Union. Barnum gave him the best advice he could as to
management, and the cities he ought to visit, for which he was
very grateful, and he called on Barnum whenever he was in New
York. Barnum also saw him repeatedly when he came to America the
second time with his lectures on "The Four Georges," which, it
will be remembered, he delivered in the United States in the
season of 1855-56, before he read them to audiences in Great
Britain. Barnum's relations with this great novelist were cordial
and intimate; and now, when he called upon him, in 1857, at his
own house, Thackeray grasped him heartily by the hand, and said:
"Mr. Barnum, I admire you more than ever I have read the accounts
in the papers of the examinations you underwent in New York
courts; and the positive pluck you exhibit under your pecuniary
embarrassments is worthy of all praise. You would never have
received credit for the philosophy you manifest if these
financial misfortunes had not overtaken you."
Barnum thanked him for his compliment, and he continued:
"But tell me, Barnum, are you really in need of present
assistance? For if you are you must be helped."
"Not in the least," the showman replied, laughing "I need more
money in order to get out of bankruptcy, and I intend to earn it;
but so far as daily bread is concerned, I am quite at ease, for
my wife is worth L30,000 or L40,000."
"Is it possible!??" he exclaimed, with evident delight; "well,
now, you have lost all my sympathy; why, that is more than I ever
expect to be worth; I shall be sorry for you no more."
During his stay in London, Barnum met Thackeray several times,
and on one occasion dined with him. He repeatedly expressed his
obligations to Barnum for the advice and assistance he had given
him on the occasion of his first lecturing visit to the United
States.
Soon after Barnum arrived in London he was visited by Mr. Otto
Goldschmidt, who had married Jenny Lind. They were then living in
Dresden, but Madame Goldschmidt had insisted on his hurrying over
to England to see her old manager, and ascertain whether he
really was in want. Barnum assured him that he was getting on
comfortably, though he had to exercise economy, and that his
family would presently come over and live with him in London.
Goldschmidt urged him to come to Dresden to live. "It is much
cheaper living there," he said, "and my wife will be so glad to
find a suitable house for you." But Barnum declined the offer.
His business prospects would be better in London than in Dresden.
Barnum's old friends, Julius Benedict and Signor Belletti, also
called on him frequently, and made him feel much at home. Among
others whom he met in London, some of them quite frequently at
dinners, were Mr. George Augustus Sala, Mr. Edmund Yates, Mr.
Horace Mayhew, Mr. Alfred Bunn, Mr Lumley, of Her Majesty's
Theatre; Mr. Buckstone; of the Haymarket; Mr. Charles Kean, our
princely countryman; Mr. George Peabody, Mr. J. M. Morris, the
manager, Mr. Bates, of Baring Brothers & Co.; Mr. Oxenford,
dramatic critic of the London Times, Dr. Ballard, the American
dentist, and many other eminent persons.
He had numerous offers from professional friends on both sides of
the Atlantic, who supposed him to be in need of employment. Mr.
Barney Williams, who had not then acted in England, proposed, in
the kindest manner, to make him his agent for a tour through
Great Britain, and to give him one-third of the profits which he
and Mrs. Williams might make by their acting. Mr. Pettengill, of
New York, the newspaper advertising agent, offered him the fine
salary of $10,000 a year to transact business for him in Great
Britain. He wrote: "When you failed in consequence of the Jerome
clock notes, I felt that your creditors were dealing hard with
you; that they should have let you up and give you a chance, and
they would have fared better, and I wish I was a creditor, so as
to show what I would do." These offers, both from Mr. Williams
and Mr. Pettengill, Barnum felt obliged to decline.
Mr. Lumley, manager of Her Majesty's Theatre, used to send him an
order for a private box for every opera night, and Barnum
frequently availed himself of his courtesy.
Meanwhile the showman was by no means idle. Cordelia Howard as
"Little Eva," with her mother as the inimitable "Topsy," were
highly successful in London and other large cities, while General
Tom Thumb, returning after so long an absence, drew crowded
houses wherever he went. These were strong spokes in the wheel
that was moving slowly but surely in the effort to get Barnum out
of debt, and, if possible, to save some portion of his real
estate. Of course, it was not generally known that he had any
interest whatever in either of these exhibitions; if it had been,
possibly some of the clock creditors would have annoyed him; but
he busied himself in these and in other ways, working
industriously and making much money, which he constantly remitted
to his trusty agent at home.
Barnum spent some weeks in London and then went to Germany. He
was accompanied by Tom Thumb, and they went by the way of Paris,
Strasburg, and Baden-Baden. At the frontier they had a terrible
time with the thick-headed customs-inspector. This was at Kehl,
near Strasburg. "I knew," said Barnum in telling the story, "that
I had no baggage which was rightfully subject to duty, as I had
nothing but my necessary clothing, and the package of placards
and lithographs, illustrating the General's exhibitions. As the
official was examining my trunks, I assured him in French, that I
had nothing subject to duty; but he made no reply and
deliberately handled every article in my luggage. He then cut the
strings to the large packages of show-bills. I asked him in
French, whether he understood that language. He gave a grunt,
which was the only audible sound I could get out of him, and then
laid my show-bills and lithographs on his scales as if to weigh
them. I was much excited. An English gentleman, who spoke German,
kindly offered to act as my interpreter.
" 'Please to tell him,' said I, 'that those bills and lithographs
are not articles of commerce; that they are simply
advertisements.'
"My English friend did as I requested; but it was of no use; the
custom-house officer kept piling them upon his scales. I grew
more excited.
" 'Please tell him I give them away,' I said. The translation of
my assertion into German did not help me; a double grunt from the
functionary, was the only response. Tom Thumb, meanwhile, jumped
about like a little monkey, for he was fairly delighted at my
worry and perplexity. Finally, I said to my new found English
friend: 'Be good enough to tell the officer to keep the bills if
he wants them, and that I will not pay duty on them, any how.'
"He was duly informed of my determination, but he was immovable.
He lighted his huge Dutch pipe, got the exact weight, and,
marking it down, handed it to a clerk, who copied it on his book,
and solemnly passed it over to another clerk, who copied it on
still another book; a third clerk then took it, and copied it on
to a printed bill, the size of a half letter sheet, which was
duly stamped in red ink with several official devices. By this
time I was in a profuse perspiration; and, as the document passed
from clerk to clerk, I told them they need not trouble themselves
to make out a bill, for I would not pay it; they would get no
duty and they might keep the property.
"To be sure, I could not spare the placards for any length of
time, for they were exceedingly valuable to me as advertisements,
and I could not easily have duplicated them in Germany; but I was
determined that I would not pay duties on articles which were not
merchandise. Every transfer, therefore, of the bill to a new
clerk, gave me a fresh twinge, for I imagined that every clerk
added more charges, and that every charge was a tighter turn to
the vise which held my fingers. Finally, the last clerk defiantly
thrust in my face the terrible official document, on which were
scrawled certain cabalistic characters, signifying the amount of
money I should be forced to pay to the German government before I
could have my property. I would not touch it but resolved I would
really leave my packages until I could communicate with one of
our consuls in Germany, and I said as much to the English
gentleman who had kindly interpreted for me.
"He took the bill, and, examining it, burst into a loud laugh,
'Why, it is but fifteen kreutzers!' he said.
" 'How much is that?' I asked, feeling for the golden sovereigns
in my pocket.
" 'Sixpence!' was the reply.
"I was astonished and delighted, and, as I handed out the money,
I begged him to tell the officials that the custom-house charge
would not pay the cost of the paper on which it was written. But
this was a very fair illustration of sundry red-tape dealings in
other countries as well as in Germany."
Baden-Baden was found to be an uncommonly pleasant place, the
neatest and cleanest little city he had ever seen, Barnum
thought. As soon as they were fairly settled there, Tom Thumb
began driving out on the streets in his tiny carriage, with his
ponies and liveried coachmen and footmen. Public curiosity was
greatly excited. The place was thronged with visitors, it being
one of the most popular resorts in Europe. There were kings and
queens, and minor royalties and members of the nobility without
number. All these soon forgot their other amusements and
entertainments in their interest in the little General. They
crowded his rooms at his reception every day, and Barnum, seeing
the quality of his patrons, put the entrance fee higher than it
ever was at any other place. Their stay at this resort was
exceedingly profitable.
Thence they proceeded to the other German watering places, such
as Ems, Weisbaden and Hamburg. They saw that it paid to strike
for high game. No matter how high their fee, the crowned, titled,
rich, aristocratic throng came to their show by thousands. Among
them was the King of Holland, who was particularly interested in
Tom Thumb. So profitable was the tour, that Barnum was able to
send many thousands of dollars to his agents in America, to buy
back his real estate and settle up the remains of the disastrous
clock business.
Other German cities visited were Frankfort-on-the-Main, Mayence
and Cologne. At the latter place, they remained for some time,
seeing as well as giving shows. Then they went on to Rotterdam
and Amsterdam.
The shrewd and enterprising Yankee was much impressed by the
thrift and industry of Holland. "It gave me," he afterwards said,
"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 whitewashed 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."
Barnum thought that the reason why his exhibitions were not
better patronized here was that the people were too frugal to
spend much money for mere amusements. "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 his visits to this museum, Barnum 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 a 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" he easily
divined from whence the Feejee mermaid originated.
After a delightful visit in Holland, he went back to England; and
proceeding to Manchester, opened his exhibition. For several days
the hall was crowded to overflowing at each of the three, and
sometimes four, entertainments they gave every day. By this time,
his wife and two youngest daughters had come over to London, and
he hired furnished lodgings in the suburbs where they could live
within the strictest limits of economy. It was necessary now for
him 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 his absence, he set his face once
more towards home and the west, and took steamer at Liverpool for
New York.