Life of Hon. Phineas T. Barnum [46]
one old man, who at first declared that he had been killed in the front ranks, but afterward acknowledged that he had only been wounded and left on the field for dead three days.
After having the location of Napoleon's Guard, the Duke of Wellington, the portion of the field where Blucher entered with the Prussian army, pointed out to them, and the spots where fell Sir Alexander Gordon and other celebrities, they asked the guide if he knew where Captain Tippitiwichet, of Connecticut, was killed? "Oh, oui, Monsieur," replied the guide confidently. After pointing out the precise spots where fictitious friends from Coney Island, New Jersey, Cape Cod and Saratoga had received their death-wounds, they paid the old humbug and dismissed him.
Upon leaving the field they were met by another crowd of peasants with relics of the battle for sale. Barnum bought a large number of pistols, bullets, brass French eagles, buttons, etc., for the Museum, and the others were equally liberal in their purchases. They bought also maps, guide-books and pictures, until Mr. Stratton expressed his belief that the "darned old battle of Waterloo" had cost more since it was fought than it ever did before.
Some months afterwards, while they were in Birmingham, they made the acquaintance of a firm who manufactured and sent to Waterloo barrels of these "relics" every year.
Four or five miles on the road home they had the misfortune to break the axle-tree of the carriage. It was past one o'clock, and the exhibition was advertised to commence in Brussels at two. Of course, they could not expect to walk the distance in less than three hours, and Barnum was disposed to give up the afternoon performance altogether. But Mr. Stratton could not bear the idea of losing six or eight hundred francs, so, accompanied by the interpreter, Prof. Pinte, he rushed down the road to a farm-house, followed leisurely by the rest of the party.
Mr. Stratton asked the old farmer if he had a carriage. He had not. "Have you no vehicle?" he inquired.
"Yes, I have that vehicle," he replied, pointing to an old cart filled with manure, and standing in his barnyard.
"Thunder! is that all the conveyance you have got?" asked Stratton. Being assured that it was, Stratton concluded that it was better to ride in a manure-cart than not to get to Brussels in time.
"What will you ask to drive us to Brussels in three-quarters of an hour?" demanded Stratton.
"It is impossible," replied the farmer; "I should want two hours for my horse to do it in."
"But ours is a very pressing case, and if we are not there in time we lose more than five hundred francs," said Stratton.
The old farmer pricked up his ears at this, and agreed to get them to Brussels in an hour for eighty francs. Stratton tried to beat him down, but it was of no use.
"Oh, go it, Stratton," said Sherman; "eighty francs you know is only sixteen dollars, and you will probably save a hundred by it, for I expect a full house at our afternoon exhibition to-day."
"But I have already spent about ten dollars for nonsense," said Stratton, "and we shall have to pay for the broken carriage besides."
"But what can you do better?" chimed in Professor Pinte.
"It is an outrageous extortion to charge sixteen dollars for an old horse and cart to go ten miles. Why, in old Bridgeport, I could get it done for three dollars," replied Stratton, in a tone of vexation
"It is the custom of the country," said Professor Pinte, "and we must submit to it."
"Well, it's a thundering mean custom, anyhow," said Stratton, "and I won't stand such imposition."
"But what shall we do?" earnestly inquired Mr. Pinte. "It may be a high price, but it is better to pay that than to lose our afternoon performance and five or six hundred francs."
This appeal to the pocket touched Stratton's feelings; so, submitting to the extortion, he replied to our interpreter, "Well, tell the old robber to dump his dung-cart as soon as possible, or we shall lose half an hour in starting."
The cart was "dumped" and a large, lazy-looking
After having the location of Napoleon's Guard, the Duke of Wellington, the portion of the field where Blucher entered with the Prussian army, pointed out to them, and the spots where fell Sir Alexander Gordon and other celebrities, they asked the guide if he knew where Captain Tippitiwichet, of Connecticut, was killed? "Oh, oui, Monsieur," replied the guide confidently. After pointing out the precise spots where fictitious friends from Coney Island, New Jersey, Cape Cod and Saratoga had received their death-wounds, they paid the old humbug and dismissed him.
Upon leaving the field they were met by another crowd of peasants with relics of the battle for sale. Barnum bought a large number of pistols, bullets, brass French eagles, buttons, etc., for the Museum, and the others were equally liberal in their purchases. They bought also maps, guide-books and pictures, until Mr. Stratton expressed his belief that the "darned old battle of Waterloo" had cost more since it was fought than it ever did before.
Some months afterwards, while they were in Birmingham, they made the acquaintance of a firm who manufactured and sent to Waterloo barrels of these "relics" every year.
Four or five miles on the road home they had the misfortune to break the axle-tree of the carriage. It was past one o'clock, and the exhibition was advertised to commence in Brussels at two. Of course, they could not expect to walk the distance in less than three hours, and Barnum was disposed to give up the afternoon performance altogether. But Mr. Stratton could not bear the idea of losing six or eight hundred francs, so, accompanied by the interpreter, Prof. Pinte, he rushed down the road to a farm-house, followed leisurely by the rest of the party.
Mr. Stratton asked the old farmer if he had a carriage. He had not. "Have you no vehicle?" he inquired.
"Yes, I have that vehicle," he replied, pointing to an old cart filled with manure, and standing in his barnyard.
"Thunder! is that all the conveyance you have got?" asked Stratton. Being assured that it was, Stratton concluded that it was better to ride in a manure-cart than not to get to Brussels in time.
"What will you ask to drive us to Brussels in three-quarters of an hour?" demanded Stratton.
"It is impossible," replied the farmer; "I should want two hours for my horse to do it in."
"But ours is a very pressing case, and if we are not there in time we lose more than five hundred francs," said Stratton.
The old farmer pricked up his ears at this, and agreed to get them to Brussels in an hour for eighty francs. Stratton tried to beat him down, but it was of no use.
"Oh, go it, Stratton," said Sherman; "eighty francs you know is only sixteen dollars, and you will probably save a hundred by it, for I expect a full house at our afternoon exhibition to-day."
"But I have already spent about ten dollars for nonsense," said Stratton, "and we shall have to pay for the broken carriage besides."
"But what can you do better?" chimed in Professor Pinte.
"It is an outrageous extortion to charge sixteen dollars for an old horse and cart to go ten miles. Why, in old Bridgeport, I could get it done for three dollars," replied Stratton, in a tone of vexation
"It is the custom of the country," said Professor Pinte, "and we must submit to it."
"Well, it's a thundering mean custom, anyhow," said Stratton, "and I won't stand such imposition."
"But what shall we do?" earnestly inquired Mr. Pinte. "It may be a high price, but it is better to pay that than to lose our afternoon performance and five or six hundred francs."
This appeal to the pocket touched Stratton's feelings; so, submitting to the extortion, he replied to our interpreter, "Well, tell the old robber to dump his dung-cart as soon as possible, or we shall lose half an hour in starting."
The cart was "dumped" and a large, lazy-looking