IN GERMANY.
FROM LONDON TO BADEN-BADEN--TROUBLE IN PARIS--STRASBOURG--SCENE IN
A GERMAN CUSTOM-HOUSE--A TERRIBLE BILL--SIX CENTS WORTH OF
AGONY--GAMBLING AT BADEN-BADEN--SUICIDES--GOLDEN PRICES FOR THE
GENERAL--A CALL FROM THE KING OF HOLLAND--THE GERMAN SPAS--HAMBURG,
EMS AND WIESBADEN--THE BLACK FOREST ORCHESTRION MAKER--AN OFFERED
SACRIFICE--THE SEAT OF THE ROTHSCHILDS--DIFFICULTIES IN
FRANKFORT--A POMPOUS COMMISSIONER OF POLICE--RED-TAPE--AN
ALARM--HENRY J. RAYMOND--CALL ON THE COMMISSIONER--CONFIDENTIAL
DISCLOSURES--HALF OF AN ENTIRE FORTUNE IN AN AMERICAN
RAILWAY--ASTOUNDING REVELATIONS--DOWN THE RHINE--DEPARTURE FOR
HOLLAND.
After a pleasant and successful season of several weeks in London and in
the provinces, I took the little General into Germany, going from London
to Paris and from thence to Strasbourg and Baden-Baden. I had not been
in Paris since the times of King Louis Philippe, and while I noticed
great improvements in the city, in the opening of the new boulevards and
the erection of noble buildings, I could see also with sorrow that there
was less personal liberty under the Emperor Napoleon III., than there
was under the “Citizen King.” The custom-house officials were
overbearing and unnecessarily rigid in their exactions; the police were
over-watchful and intolerant; the screws were turned on everywhere. I
had a lot of large pictorial placards of General Tom Thumb, which were
merely _in transitu_, as I wished only to forward them to Germany to be
used as advertisements of the forthcoming exhibitions. These the French
custom-house officers determined to examine in detail, and when they
discovered that one of the pictures represented the General in the
costume of the First Napoleon, the whole of the bills were seized and
sent to the Prefecture of Police. I was compelled to stay three days in
Paris before I could convince the Prefect of Police that there was no
treason in the Tom Thumb pictures. I was very glad to get out of Paris
with my baggage and taking a seat in the express train on the Paris and
Strasbourg railway I soon forgot my custom-house annoyances.
One would suppose that by this time I had had enough to do with clocks
to last me my lifetime, but passing one night and a portion of a day at
Strasbourg, I did not forget or fail to witness the great church clock
which is nearly as famous as the cathedral itself. At noon precisely a
mechanical cock crows; the bell strikes; figures of the twelve apostles
appear and walk in procession; and other extraordinary evidences of
wonderful mechanical art are daily exhibited by this curious old clock.
From Strasbourg we went to Baden-Baden. I had been abroad so much that I
could understand and manage to speak French, but I had never been in
Germany and I did not know six words of the language of that country. As
a consequence, I dreaded to pass the custom-house at Kehl, nearly
opposite Strasbourg, and the first town on the German border at that
point. When the diligence stopped at this place I fairly trembled. I
knew 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. This was the
package which had given me so much trouble in Paris, and 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 almost distracted, when 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 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
[Illustration: _THE “CUSTOMS” OF THE COUNTRY._]
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.
I found Baden a delightful little town, cleaner and neater than any city
I had ever visited. I learned afterwards that Mr. Benazet, the lessee of
the kurasal and gambling house, was compelled annually to expend large
sums for keeping the streets and public places clean. Indeed, he could
well afford to do so, as one would readily perceive upon witnessing the
vast amounts of money which were daily lost by the men and women of
nearly all nations, upon his tables of roulette and _rouge et noir_.
The town has all the characteristics and accompaniments of a first-class
watering-place,--a theatre, public library, and several very fine
hotels. The springs are presumed to be the inducements which draw
hundreds of invalids to Baden-Baden every summer, but the gaming tables
are the real attractions to thousands of far weaker persons who spend
the entire season in gambling. It is no unusual thing to see ladies
sitting around these gaming tables, betting their silver and gold
pieces, until they lose five hundred or a thousand dollars, while men
frequently “invest” many times these amounts. If they happen to be
winners, they are very sure to be tempted to try again; and thus in the
long run succumb to the “advantage” which is given in the game to the
bankers over the “betters.”
The games open at eleven o’clock every morning, Sundays included, and
close at eleven o’clock at night. Players have been known to sit at the
table, without once rising, even to eat or to drink, through the entire
day and night session. Very early in the day, however, many a player
finds himself penniless, and, in such case, if he does not step to some
quiet place and blow his brains out, the proprietor of the “hell” will
present to him money enough to carry him at least fifty miles from
Baden-Baden.
A few days before my arrival, a young lady hung herself. Indeed, several
suicides occur in all the German spas every year from the one
cause--ruin by gambling; but so callous do the players, as well as the
card-dealers become, that I can easily credit a story told me at
Homburg, the greatest gambling place in Europe: A Frenchman, sitting at
the table where scores of others were betting their money, lost his last
sou, and immediately drew a razor from his pocket and cut his throat.
The circumstance was scarcely sufficient to induce the players to raise
their eyes from the cards;--it was a mere incident, an episode in
matters more important. A sheet was thrown over the body, and as the
servants quietly removed the corpse, some one slipped into the vacated
chair, the dealer crying out in French, “make your bets, gentlemen,” and
the play went on as usual.
In due time, when our preliminary arrangements were completed, the
General’s attendants, carriage, ponies and liveried coachman and footmen
arrived at Baden-Baden and were soon seen in the streets. The excitement
was intense and increased from day to day. Several crowned heads,
princes, lords and ladies who were spending the season at Baden-Baden,
with a vast number of wealthy pleasure seekers and travellers, crowded
the saloon in which the General exhibited during the entire time we
remained in the place. The charges for admission were much higher than
had been demanded in any other city.
Some time before I left America I received several letters from a young
man residing in the Black Forest in regard to a wonderful orchestrion
which he was building and which he wished to sell or send to me for
exhibition. When he saw the accounts of my arrival with Tom Thumb at
Baden-Baden, he announced his willingness to bring his orchestrion and
set it up in that place so that I could see and hear it. His letter was
forwarded to me at Frankfort and I replied that my engagements were made
many days in advance, that my time was invaluable, but that if he would
have his orchestrion set up and in perfect order at such a time on such
a day I would be there promptly to see it. Arriving at the appointed
time, I found that he had not completed his work. The beautiful case was
up, but the interior was unfinished. I was much disappointed, but not
nearly so much so as was the orchestrion builder.
“Oh! Mr. Barnum,” said he, “I have worked with my men all last night and
all to-day and I will work all night again and have it in readiness
to-morrow morning. If you will only stay, I will go down on my knees to
you; yes, Mr. Barnum, I will cut off one of my fingers for you, if you
will only wait.”
But I could not wait, even under this strong and certainly extraordinary
inducement, and was obliged to return to my engagements without hearing
the orchestrion, which, I afterwards learned, was sold and set up in St.
Petersburg.
From Baden-Baden we went to other celebrated German Spas, including Ems,
Homburg and Weisbaden. These are all fashionable gambling as well as
watering places, and during our visits they were crowded with visitors
from all parts of Europe. Our exhibitions were attended by thousands who
paid the same high prices that were charged for admission at
Baden-Baden, and at Wiesbaden, among many distinguished persons, the
King of Holland came to see the little General. These exhibitions were
among the most profitable that had ever been given, and I was able to
remit thousands of dollars to my agents in the United States to aid in
re-purchasing my real estate and to assist in taking up such clock notes
as were offered for sale. A short but very remunerative season at
Frankfort-on-the-Maine, the home and starting-place of the great house
of the Rothschilds, assisted me largely in carrying out these purposes.
There was the greatest difficulty, however, in getting permission to
hold our exhibitions in Frankfort. When I applied for a permit at the
office of the Commissary of Police, I was told that office hours were
ended for the day, and that the chief official, who alone could give me
the permit, had gone home to dinner. As I was in a great hurry to begin,
I went to the residence of the Commissary, where I was met at the door
by a gorgeously arrayed flunkey, to whom I stated my business, and who
informed me that I could on no account see the distinguished official
till dinner was over.
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.