unfashionable, and from March 20th until July 20th, the levees of the little General at Egyptian Hall were continually crowded, the receipts averaging during the whole period about five hundred dollars per day, and sometimes going considerably beyond that sum. At the fashionable hour, between fifty and sixty carriages of the nobility have been counted at one time standing in front of our exhibition rooms in Piccadilly.
Portraits of the little General were published in all the pictorial papers of the time. Polkas and quadrilles were named after him, and songs were sung in his praise. He was an almost constant theme for the London Punch, which served up the General and myself so daintily that it no doubt added vastly to our receipts.
Besides his three public performances per day, the little General attended from three to four private parties per week, for which we were paid eight to ten guineas each. Frequently we would visit two parties in the same evening, and the demand in that line was much greater than the supply. The Queen Dowager Adelaide requested the General’s attendance at Marlborough House one afternoon. He went in his court dress, consisting of a richly embroidered brown silk-velvet coat and short breeches, white satin vest with fancy-colored embroidery, white silk stockings and pumps, wig, bag-wig, cocked hat, and a dress sword.
“Why, General,” said the Queen Dowager, “I think you look very smart to-day.”
“I guess I do,” said the General complacently.
A large party of the nobility were present. The old Duke of Cambridge offered the little General a pinch of snuff, which, he declined. The General sang his songs, performed his dances, and cracked his jokes, to the great amusement and delight of the distinguished circle of visitors.
“Dear little General,” said the kind-hearted Queen, taking him upon her lap, “I see you have got no watch. Will you permit me to present you with a watch and chain?”
“I would like them very much,” replied the General, his eyes glistening with joy as he spoke.
“I will have them made expressly for you,” responded the Queen Dowager; and at the same moment she called a friend and desired him to see that the proper order was executed. A few weeks thereafter we were called again to Marlborough House. A number of the children of the nobility were present, as well as some of their parents. After passing a few compliments with the General, Queen Adelaide presented him with a beautiful little gold watch, placing the chain around his neck with her own hands. The little fellow was delighted, and scarcely knew how sufficiently to express his thanks. The good Queen gave him some excellent advice in regard to his morals, which he strictly promised to obey.
After giving his performances, we withdrew from the royal presence, and the elegant little watch presented by the hands of Her Majesty the Queen Dowager was not only duly heralded, but was also placed upon a pedestal in the hall of exhibition, together with the presents from Queen Victoria, and covered with a glass vase. These presents, to which were soon added an elegant gold snuff-box mounted with turquoise, presented by his Grace the Duke of Devonshire, and many other costly gifts of the nobility and gentry, added greatly to the attractions of the exhibition. The Duke of Wellington called frequently to see the little General at his public levees. The first time he called, the General was personating Napoleon Bonaparte, marching up and down the platform, and apparently taking snuff in deep meditation. He was dressed in the well-known uniform of the Emperor. I introduced him to the “Iron Duke,” who inquired the subject of his meditations. “I was thinking of the loss of the battle of Waterloo,” was the little General’s immediate reply. This display of wit was chronicled throughout the country, and was of itself worth thousands of pounds to the exhibition.
While we were in London the Emperor Nicholas, of Russia, visited Queen Victoria, and I saw him on several public occasions. I was present at the grand review of troops in Windsor Park in honor of and before the Emperor of Russia and the King of Saxony.
General Tom Thumb had visited the King of Saxony and also Ibrahim Pacha who was then in London. At the different parties we attended, we met, in the course of the season, nearly all of the nobility. I do not believe that a single nobleman in England failed to see General Tom Thumb at his own house, at the house of a friend, or at the public levees at Egyptian Hall. The General was a decided pet with some of the first personages in the land, among whom may be mentioned Sir Robert and Lady Peel, the Duke and Duchess of Buckingham, Duke of Bedford, Duke of Devonshire, Count d’Orsay, Lady Blessington, Daniel O’Connell, Lord Adolphus Fitzclarence, Lord Chesterfield, Mr. and Mrs. Joshua Bates, of the firm of Baring Brothers &
Co., and many other persons of distinction. We had the free entrée to all the theatres, public gardens, and places of entertainment, and frequently met the principal artists, editors, poets, and authors of the country. Albert Smith was a particular friend of mine. He wrote a play for the General entitled “Hop o’ my Thumb,” which was presented with great success at the Lyceum Theatre, London, and in several of the provincial theatres. Our visit in London and tour through the provinces were enormously successful, and after a brilliant season in Great Britain I made preparations to take the General to Paris.
CHAPTER XII.
IN FRANCE
GOING OVER TO ARRANGE PRELIMINARIES – PREVIOUS VISIT TO PARIS – ROBERT HOUDIN – WONDERFUL MECHANICAL TOYS – THE AUTOMATON LETTER-WRITER – DION BOUCICAULT – TALK ON NATURAL CURIOSITIES – HOW I COMPROMISED – THE GENERAL AND PARTY IN PARIS – FIRST VISIT TO KING LOUIS PHILIPPE – A SPLENDID PRESENT – DIPLOMACY – I ASK A FAVOR AND GET IT – LONG CHAMPS – THE GENERAL’S EQUIPAGE – THE FINEST ADVERTISEMENT EVER KNOWN – ALL PARIS IN A FUROR – OPENING OF THE LEVEES – “TOM POUCE” EVERYWHERE – THE GENERAL AS AN ACTOR – “PETIT POUCET” – SECOND AND THIRD VISITS AT THE TUILERIES – INVITATION TO ST. CLOUD – THE GENERAL PERSONATING NAPOLEON BONAPARTE – ST. DENIS – THE INVALIDES – REGNIER – ANECDOTE OF FRANKLIN – LEAVING PARIS – TOUR THROUGH FRANCE – DEPARTURE FOR BRUSSELS.
BEFORE taking the little General and party to Paris, I went over alone to arrange the preliminaries for our campaign in that city. Paris was not altogether a strange place to me. Months before, when I had successfully established my exhibition in London, I ran over to Paris to see what I could pick up in the way of curiosities for my Museum in New York, for during my whole sojourn abroad, and amid all the excitements of my new career, I never forgot the interests of my many and generous patrons at home. The occasion which first called me to France was the “quinquennial exposition” in Paris. At that time, there was an assemblage, every five years, of inventors and manufacturers who exhibited specimens of their skill, especially in articles of curious and ingenious mechanism, and I went from London mainly to attend this exposition.
There I met and became well acquainted with Robert Houdin, the celebrated conjurer. He was a watchmaker by trade, but very soon displayed a wonderful ability and ingenuity which he devoted with so much assiduity to the construction of a complicated machine, that he lost all mental power for a considerable period. When he recovered, he employed himself with great success in the manufacture of mechanical toys and automata which attracted much attention, and afterwards he visited Great Britain and other countries, giving a series of juggling exhibitions which were famous throughout Europe.
At this quinquennial exposition which I attended, he received a gold medal for his automata, and the best figure which he had on exhibition I purchased at a good round price. It was an automaton writer and artist, a most ingenious little figure, which sat at a table, and readily answered with the pencil certain questions. For instance: if asked for an emblem of fidelity, the figure instantly drew a correct picture of a handsome dog; the emblem of love was shown in an exquisite drawing of a little Cupid; the automaton would also answer many questions in writing. I carried this curious figure to London and exhibited it for some time in the Royal Adelaide Gallery, and then sent it across the Atlantic to the American Museum.
During
