Struggles and Triumphs by P. T. Barnum (love novels in english TXT) 📕

we visited an exhibition called the “Happy Family,” consisting of about two hundred birds and animals of opposite natures and propensities, all living in harmony together in one cage. This exhibition was so remarkable that I bought it and hired the proprietor to accompany it to New York, and it became an attractive feature in my Museum.

We took the cars the same evening for Birmingham, where we arrived at ten o’clock, Albert Smith remarking, that never before in his life had he accomplished a day’s journey on the Yankee go-ahead principle. He afterwards published a chapter in Bentley’s Magazine entitled “A Day with Barnum,” in which he said we accomplished business with such rapidity, that when he attempted to write out the accounts of the day, he found the whole thing so confused in his brain that he came near locating “Peeping Tom” in the house of Shakespeare, while Guy of Warwick would stick his head above the ruins of Kenilworth, and the Warwick Vase appeared in Coventry.

XV Return to America

The Wizard of the North⁠—A Juggler Beaten at His Own Tricks⁠—Second Visit to the United States⁠—Reverend Doctor Robert Baird⁠—Captain Judkins Threatens to Put Me in Irons⁠—Views with Regard to Sects⁠—A Wicked Woman⁠—The Simpsons in Europe⁠—Reminiscences of Travel⁠—Sauce and “Sass”⁠—Tea Too Sweet⁠—A Universal Language⁠—Roast Duck⁠—Snow in August⁠—Tales of Travellers⁠—Simpson Not to Be Taken In⁠—Hollanders in Brussels⁠—Where All the Dutchmen Come from⁠—Three Years in Europe⁠—Warm Personal Friends⁠—Doctor C. S. Brewster⁠—Henry Sumner⁠—George Sand⁠—Lorenzo Draper⁠—George P. Putnam⁠—Our Last Performance in Dublin⁠—Daniel O’Connell⁠—End of Our Tour⁠—Departure for America⁠—Arrival in New York.

While I was at Aberdeen, in Scotland, I met Anderson, the “Wizard of the North.” I had known him for a long time, and we were on familiar terms. The General’s exhibitions were to close on Saturday night, and Anderson was to open in the same hall on Monday evening. He came to our exhibition, and at the close we went to the hotel together to get a little supper. After supper we were having some fun and jokes together, when it occurred to Anderson to introduce me to several persons who were sitting in the room, as the “Wizard of the North,” at the same time asking me about my tricks and my forthcoming exhibition. He kept this up so persistently that some of our friends who were present, declared that Anderson was “too much for me,” and, meanwhile, fresh introductions to strangers who came in, had made me pretty generally known in that circle as the “Wizard of the North,” who was to astonish the town in the following week. I accepted the situation at last, and said:

“Well, gentlemen, as I perform here for the first time, on Monday evening, I like to be liberal, and I should be very happy to give orders of admission to those of you who will attend my exhibition.”

The applications for orders were quite general, and I had written thirty or forty, when Anderson, who saw that I was in a fair way of filling his house with “deadheads,” cried out⁠—

“Hold on! I am the ‘Wizard of the North.’ I’ll stand the orders already given, but not another one.”

Our friends, including the “Wizard” himself, began to think that I had rather the best of the joke.

During our three years’ stay abroad, I made a second hasty visit to America, leaving the General in England in the hands of my agents. I took passage from Liverpool on board a Cunard steamer, commanded by Captain Judkins. One of my fellow passengers was the celebrated divine, Robert Baird. I had known him as the author of an octavo volume, “Religion in America”; and while that work had impressed me as exhibiting great ability and an outspoken honesty of purpose, it had also given me the notion that its author must be very rigid and intolerant as a sectarian. Still I was happy to make his acquaintance on board the steamship, and soon regarded with favor the venerable Presbyterian divine.

Dr. Baird had been for some time a missionary in Sweden. He was now paying a visit to his native land. I found him a shrewd, well-informed Christian gentleman, and I took much pleasure in hearing him converse. One night it was storming furiously. The waves, rolling high, afforded a sight of awful grandeur, to witness which I was tempted to put on a pea-jacket, go upon the deck, and lash myself to the side of the ship. After I had been there nearly an hour, wrapt in meditation and wonder, not unmixed with awe, Dr. Baird came up in the darkness, feeling his way cautiously along the deck. As he came where I was, I hailed him; and he asked what I was doing so long up there.

“Listening to the preaching, Doctor,” I replied; “and I think it beats even yours, although I have never had the pleasure of hearing you.”

“Ah!” he replied, “none of us can preach like this. How humble and insignificant we all feel in the presence of such a display of the Almighty power; and how grateful we should be to remember that infinite love guides this power.”

The Sunday following, divine service was held as usual in the large after cabin. Of course it was the Episcopal form of worship. The captain conducted the services, assisted by the clerk and the ship’s surgeon. A dozen or two of the sailors, shaved, washed, and neatly dressed, were marched into the cabin by the mate; most of the passengers were also present.

Those who have witnessed this service, as conducted by Captain Judkins, need not be reminded that he does it much as he performs his duties on deck. He speaks as one having authority; and a listener could hardly help feeling that there would be some danger of a “row” if the petitions (made as a sort of command) were not speedily answered.

After dinner I asked Dr. Baird if he would be willing to preach to the passengers in the forward cabin.