Life of Hon. Phineas T. Barnum [42]
of 'Gen. Tom Thumb,' and compelled me to obtain a more commodious hall for my exhibition. I accordingly moved to a larger room in the same building."
On their second visit to the Queen, they were received in what is called the Yellow Drawing Room, a magnificent apartment. It is on the north side of the gallery, and is entered from that apartment. It was hung with drapery of rich yellow satin damask, the couches, sofas, and chairs being covered with the same material. The vases, urns, and ornaments were all of the most exquisite workmanship. The room was panelled in gold, and the heavy cornices beautifully carved and gilt. The tables, pianos, etc., were mounted with gold, inlaid with pearl of various hues, and of the most elegant designs.
They were ushered into this gorgeous drawing-room before the Queen and royal circle had left the dining-room, and, as they approached, the General bowed respectfully, and remarked to Her Majesty, "that he had seen her before," adding, "I think this is a prettier room than the picture gallery; that chandelier is very fine."
The Queen smilingly took him by the hand, and said she hoped he was very well.
"Yes, ma'am," he replied, "I am first-rate."
"General," continued the Queen, "this is the Prince of Wales."
"How are you, Prince?" said the General, shaking him by the hand, and then standing beside the Prince, he remarked, "the prince is taller than I am, but I feel as big as anybody," upon which he strutted up and down the room as proud as a peacock, amid shouts of laughter from all present.
The Queen then introduced the Princess Royal, and the General immediately led her to his elegant little sofa, which he took with him, and with much politeness sat down beside her. Then, rising from his seat, he went through his various performances, and the Queen handed him an elegant and costly souvenir, which had been expressly made for him by her order, for which, he told her, "he was very much obliged, and would keep it as long as he lived." The Queen of the Belgians (daughter of Louis Philippe) was present on this occasion. She asked the General where he was going when he left London.
"To Paris," he replied.
"Whom do you expect to see there?" she continued.
Of course all expected he would answer, "the King of the French," but the little fellow replied.
"Monsieur Guillaudeu."
The two queens looked inquiringly, and when Mr. Barnum informed them that M. Guillaudeu was his French naturalist, they laughed most heartily.
On their third visit to Buckingham Palace, Leopold, King of the Belgians, was also present. He was highly pleased, and asked a multitude of questions. Queen Victoria desired the General to sing a song, and asked him what song he preferred to sing.
"Yankee Doodle," was the prompt reply.
This answer was as unexpected to Mr. Barnum as it was to the royal party. When the merriment it occasioned had somewhat subsided, the Queen good-humoredly remarked, "that is a very pretty song, General, sing it, if you please." The General complied, and soon afterward retired.
The Queen sent to Barnum a handsome fee for each of his visits, but that was only a small part of the benefits which his acquaintance with her brought to him. Such was the force of Court example that it was now deemed unfashionable, almost disloyal, not to have seen Tom Thumb. Carriages of the nobility, fifty or sixty at a time, were to be seen at Barnum's door in Piccadilly. Egyptian Hall was crowded at every exhibition, and the net profits there were on the average more than $500 per day from March 20th to July 20th. Portraits of the tiny General were for sale everywhere, and were eagerly purchased by thousands. Musical compositions were dedicated to him, and songs were sung in his honor. Week after week he was the subject of Punch's wittiest cartoons; and of course all this was just so much free advertising. Besides his three public performances per day, the little General attended three or four private parties per week, for which they were paid eight to ten guineas each. Frequently
On their second visit to the Queen, they were received in what is called the Yellow Drawing Room, a magnificent apartment. It is on the north side of the gallery, and is entered from that apartment. It was hung with drapery of rich yellow satin damask, the couches, sofas, and chairs being covered with the same material. The vases, urns, and ornaments were all of the most exquisite workmanship. The room was panelled in gold, and the heavy cornices beautifully carved and gilt. The tables, pianos, etc., were mounted with gold, inlaid with pearl of various hues, and of the most elegant designs.
They were ushered into this gorgeous drawing-room before the Queen and royal circle had left the dining-room, and, as they approached, the General bowed respectfully, and remarked to Her Majesty, "that he had seen her before," adding, "I think this is a prettier room than the picture gallery; that chandelier is very fine."
The Queen smilingly took him by the hand, and said she hoped he was very well.
"Yes, ma'am," he replied, "I am first-rate."
"General," continued the Queen, "this is the Prince of Wales."
"How are you, Prince?" said the General, shaking him by the hand, and then standing beside the Prince, he remarked, "the prince is taller than I am, but I feel as big as anybody," upon which he strutted up and down the room as proud as a peacock, amid shouts of laughter from all present.
The Queen then introduced the Princess Royal, and the General immediately led her to his elegant little sofa, which he took with him, and with much politeness sat down beside her. Then, rising from his seat, he went through his various performances, and the Queen handed him an elegant and costly souvenir, which had been expressly made for him by her order, for which, he told her, "he was very much obliged, and would keep it as long as he lived." The Queen of the Belgians (daughter of Louis Philippe) was present on this occasion. She asked the General where he was going when he left London.
"To Paris," he replied.
"Whom do you expect to see there?" she continued.
Of course all expected he would answer, "the King of the French," but the little fellow replied.
"Monsieur Guillaudeu."
The two queens looked inquiringly, and when Mr. Barnum informed them that M. Guillaudeu was his French naturalist, they laughed most heartily.
On their third visit to Buckingham Palace, Leopold, King of the Belgians, was also present. He was highly pleased, and asked a multitude of questions. Queen Victoria desired the General to sing a song, and asked him what song he preferred to sing.
"Yankee Doodle," was the prompt reply.
This answer was as unexpected to Mr. Barnum as it was to the royal party. When the merriment it occasioned had somewhat subsided, the Queen good-humoredly remarked, "that is a very pretty song, General, sing it, if you please." The General complied, and soon afterward retired.
The Queen sent to Barnum a handsome fee for each of his visits, but that was only a small part of the benefits which his acquaintance with her brought to him. Such was the force of Court example that it was now deemed unfashionable, almost disloyal, not to have seen Tom Thumb. Carriages of the nobility, fifty or sixty at a time, were to be seen at Barnum's door in Piccadilly. Egyptian Hall was crowded at every exhibition, and the net profits there were on the average more than $500 per day from March 20th to July 20th. Portraits of the tiny General were for sale everywhere, and were eagerly purchased by thousands. Musical compositions were dedicated to him, and songs were sung in his honor. Week after week he was the subject of Punch's wittiest cartoons; and of course all this was just so much free advertising. Besides his three public performances per day, the little General attended three or four private parties per week, for which they were paid eight to ten guineas each. Frequently