The Autobiography of Mrs. Tom Thumb - Melanie Benjamin [109]
Mrs. Bleeker paled and nearly fainted upon her husband’s shoulder. Charles, too, turned an awful green color, and Minnie laid her head upon my shoulder and shut her eyes.
I remained upright on that cold, hard station bench, unable to stop seeing that ghostly line of horses and riders, pale, almost luminous, against the black of the Alabama forest. I couldn’t believe I’d actually seen the Ku Klux with my own eyes. How terrifying!
I couldn’t wait to write Mr. Barnum all about it.
OUR TRAVELS CONTINUED, NO LESS ADVENTUROUS—I SAW MY first alligator in Texas while crossing the Red River!—and in May of 1869, while staying in San Antonio, we received the following letter from Mr. Barnum:
My Dear Bleeker:
An idea has occurred to me in which I can see a “Golden Gate” opening for the Gen. Tom Thumb Co. What do you think of a “Tour around the World,” including a visit to Australia? The new Pacific Railroad will be finished in a few weeks; you will then be enabled to cross the American Continent to California, thence by steam to Japan, China, British India, etc. I declare, in anticipation, I already envy you the pleasures and opportunities which such a trip will afford.
For the next three days I shall study all the maps I can lay my hands upon and, in imagination, mark you crossing the briny deep to those far-off countries. And as for gold! Tell the General that in Australia alone (don’t fail to go to Australia) he will be sure to make more money than a horse can draw.
Decide quickly. If you consent to undertake the journey, prepare to start next month. Love to all,
Truly yours,
P. T. Barnum
“Well, isn’t this something,” Mr. Bleeker said after he finished reading the letter out loud to us all.
“A world tour,” his gentle wife exclaimed, and as usual, I could not detect her own wishes in it; our dear Mrs. Bleeker was a cipher, a genuinely loving, soothing presence who seemed to exist only for us. I could never imagine her in her own home, mending her own clothes, deciding on her own entertainment or enjoyment. She was expressly put upon this earth to live in the service of P. T. Barnum, the General Tom Thumb Company, and her husband—and possibly in that order.
“Australia?” Charles blinked, nervously lighting up a cigar, as Mr. Barnum would have done. “That wild place? Why, has any American ever been there?”
“Which is all the more reason that we should go,” I said decidedly; my husband’s nervous fears never ceased to challenge me, stirring up a recklessness I did not always know I possessed. “Imagine, to be among the first! And to travel the new Union Pacific railroad, too—I imagine we’ll see buffalo. And Indians, naturally!”
“Indians!” Charles puffed even more nervously, blowing a quick succession of smoke rings into the air.
“Oh, Sister—Indians?” Minnie, seated next to Mrs. Bleeker on a sofa, paled.
“From a distance, I’m sure,” I said hastily, although inwardly I did hope to see one or two up close; I had always wondered if their skin was as red as the clay earth they roamed, as was said.
“It’s a tremendous opportunity.” Mr. Bleeker consulted the letter again, spreading it upon the table as if it were a map. Indeed, we all drew close, to study it. As if Mr. Barnum’s expressive handwriting alone could tell us which direction to follow—and I truly believed, at that moment, that it could.
“If we do this,” Mr. Bleeker said in his grave, considered manner, “you’ll be world famous, for I know of no other troupe that has undertaken such an arduous journey. It’s truly unprecedented.”
“Then we must do it!” I couldn’t contain