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

memory was busy with the Past. It was a brief moment, but thoughts and feelings were crowded into it, which render it one never to be forgotten. A moment more⁠—the last stroke of the clock had fallen upon the ear⁠—the last faint vibration ceased; another period of time had passed forever away⁠—a new one had dawned, in which each felt that they were to live and act. This thought recalled them to a full consciousness of the present, and all arose and quietly, but cordially, presented to each other the kind wishes of the season. As the lovely hostess pressed the hands of her guests, it was evident that she, too, had wept⁠—she, the gifted, the admired, the almost idolized one. Had she, too, cause for tears? Whence were they?⁠—from the overflowings of a grateful heart, from tender associations, or from sad remembrances? None knew, none could ask, though they awakened deep and peculiar sympathy. And from one heart, at least, arose the prayer, that when the dial of time should mark the last hour of her earthly existence, she should greet its approach with joy and not with grief⁠—that to her soul spirit-voices might whisper, ‘Come, sweet sister! come to the realms of unfading light and love⁠—come, join your seraphic tones with ours, in singing the praises of Him who loved us, and gave himself for us’⁠—while she, with meekly-folded hands and faith-uplifted eye, should answer, ‘Yes, gladly and without fear I come, for I know that my Redeemer liveth.’ ”

I had arranged with a man in New York to transport furniture to Havana, provide a house, and board Jenny Lind and our immediate party during our stay. When we arrived, we found the building converted into a semi-hotel, and the apartments were anything but comfortable. Jenny was vexed. Soon after dinner, she took a volante and an interpreter, and drove into the suburbs. She was absent four hours. Whither or why she had gone, none of us knew. At length she returned and informed us that she had hired a commodious furnished house in a delightful location outside the walls of the city, and invited us all to go and live with her during our stay in Havana, and we accepted the invitation. She was now freed from all annoyances; her time was her own, she received no calls, went and came when she pleased, had no meddlesome advisers about her, legal or otherwise, and was as merry as a cricket. We had a large courtyard in the rear of the house, and here she would come and romp and run, sing and laugh, like a young schoolgirl. “Now, Mr. Barnum, for another game of ball,” she would say half a dozen times a day; whereupon, she would take an india-rubber ball, (of which she had two or three,) and commence a game of throwing and catching, which would be kept up until, being completely tired out, I would say, “I give it up.” Then her rich, musical laugh would be heard ringing through the house, as she exclaimed, “Oh, Mr. Barnum, you are too fat and too lazy; you cannot stand it to play ball with me!”

Her celebrated countrywoman, Miss Frederika Bremer, spent a few days with us very pleasantly, and it is difficult to conceive of a more delightful month than was passed by the entire party at Jenny Lind’s house in the outskirts of Havana.

XX Incidents of the Tour

Protest Against Prices in Havana⁠—The Cubans Succumb⁠—Jenny Lind Takes the City by Storm⁠—A Magnificent Triumph⁠—Count Penalver⁠—A Splendid Offer⁠—Mr. Brinckerhoff⁠—Benefit for the Hospitals⁠—Refusing to Receive Thanks⁠—Vivalla and His Dog⁠—Henry Bennett⁠—His Partial Insanity⁠—Our Voyage to New Orleans⁠—The Editor of the New York Herald on Board⁠—I Save the Life of James Gordon Bennett⁠—Arrival at the Crescent City⁠—Cheating the Crowd⁠—A Duplicate Miss Lind⁠—A Boy in Raptures⁠—A Mammoth Hog⁠—Up the Mississippi⁠—Amusements on Board⁠—In League with the Evil One⁠—An Amazed Mulatto.

Soon after arriving in Havana, I discovered that a strong prejudice existed against our musical enterprise. I might rather say that the Habaneros, not accustomed to the high figure which tickets had commanded in the States, were determined on forcing me to adopt their opera prices, whereas I paid one thousand dollars per night for the Tacon Opera House, and other expenses being in proportion, I was determined to receive remunerating prices, or give no concerts. This determination on my part annoyed the Habaneros, who did not wish to be thought penurious, though they really were so. Their principal spite, therefore, was against me; and one of their papers politely termed me a “Yankee pirate,” who cared for nothing except their doubloons. They attended the concert, but were determined to show the great songstress no favor. I perfectly understood this feeling in advance, but studiously kept all knowledge of it from Miss Lind. I went to the first concert, therefore, with some misgivings in regard to her reception. The following, which I copy from the Havana correspondence of the New York Tribune, gives a correct account of it:

“Jenny Lind soon appeared, led on by Signor Belletti. Some three or four hundred persons clapped their hands at her appearance, but this token of approbation was instantly silenced by at least two thousand five hundred decided hisses. Thus, having settled the matter that there should be no forestalling of public opinion, and that if applause was given to Jenny Lind in that house it should first be incontestably earned, the most solemn silence prevailed. I have heard the Swedish Nightingale often in Europe as well as in America and have ever noticed a distinct tremulousness attending her first appearance in any city. Indeed this feeling was plainly manifested in her countenance as she neared the footlights; but when she witnessed the kind of reception in store for her⁠—so different from anything she had reason to expect⁠—her countenance changed in an instant to a haughty self-possession, her eye flashed defiance, and, becoming immovable as a statue, she stood there, perfectly calm and