A Frenchman in America Part 31
The next advertis.e.m.e.nt was that of a variety show, that most stupid form of entertainment so popular in America; the next was the announcement of pugilists, and another one that of a "most sensational drama, in which 'one of the most emotional actresses' in America" was to appear, supported by "one of the most powerful casts ever gathered together in the world."
The superlatives, in American advertis.e.m.e.nts, have long ceased to have the slightest effect upon me.
The advertis.e.m.e.nt of another "show" ran thus: I beg to reproduce it in its entirety; indeed it would be a sacrilege to meddle with it.
TO THE PUBLIC.
_My Friends and Former Patrons_: I have now been before the public for the past seventeen years, and am perhaps too well known to require further evidence of my character and integrity than my past life and record will show. Fifteen years ago I inaugurated the system of dispensing presents to the public, believing that a fair share of my profits could thus honestly be returned to my patrons. At the outset, and ever since, it has been my aim to deal honestly toward the mult.i.tude who have given me patronage. Since that time many imitators have undertaken to beguile the public, with but varying success. Many unprincipled rascals have also appeared upon the scene, men without talent, but far-reaching talons, who by specious promises have sought to swindle all whom they could inveigle. This cla.s.s of scoundrels do not hesitate to make promises that they cannot and never intend to fulfill, and should be frowned down by all honest men. They deceive the public, leave a bad impression, and thus injure legitimate exhibitions. Every promise I make will be faithfully fulfilled, as experience has clearly proven that dealing uprightly with the public brings its sure reward. All who visit my beautiful entertainment may rely upon the same fair dealing which has been my life-long policy, and which has always honored me with crowded houses.
NEW UNIQUE PASTIMES. NEW HARMLESS MIRTH.
NEW COSTLY WONDERS. NEW FAMOUS ARTISTS.
NEW PLEASANT STUDIES. NEW INNOCENT FUN.
NEW POPULAR MUSIC. NEW KNOWLEDGE.
_Special Notice._
Ladies and Children are especially Invited to Attend this Entertainment. We Guarantee it to be Chaste, Pure, and as Wholesome and Innocent as it is Amusing and Laughable.
Finally I decided on going to see a German tragedy. I did not understand it, but the acting seemed to me good.
[Ill.u.s.tration: A GERMAN TRAGEDY.]
Like Milwaukee, Cincinnati possesses a very strong German element.
Indeed a whole part of the city is entirely inhabited by a German population, and situated on one side of the water. When you cross the bridge in its direction, you are going "over the Rhine," to use the local expression. "To go over the Rhine" of an evening means to go to one of the many German _Brauerei_, and have sausages and Bavarian beer for supper.
The town is a very prosperous one. The Germans in America are liked for their steadiness and industry. An American friend even told me that the Germans were perhaps the best patriots the United States could boast of.
Patriots! The word sounded strangely to my ears. I may be prejudiced, but I call a good patriot a man who loves his own mother country. You may like the land of your adoption, but you love the land of your birth.
Good patriots! I call a good brother a man who loves his sister, not other people's sisters.
The Germans apply for their naturalization papers the day after they have landed. I should admire their patriotism much more if they waited a little longer before they changed their own mother for a step-mother.
_March 8._
I witnessed a most impressive ceremony this morning, the funeral of the American Minister Plenipotentiary to the Court of Berlin, whose body was brought from Germany to his native place a few days ago. No soldiers ordered to accompany the _cortege,_ no uniforms, but thousands of people voluntarily doing honor to the remains of a talented and respected fellow-citizen and townsman: a truly republican ceremony in its simplicity and earnestness.
The coffin was taken to the Music Hall, a new and beautiful building capable of accommodating thousands of people, and placed on the platform amid evergreens and the Stars and Stripes. In a few minutes, the hall, decorated with taste but with appropriate simplicity, was packed from floor to ceiling. Some notables and friends of the late Minister sat on the platform around the coffin, and the mayor, in the name of the inhabitants of the city, delivered a speech, a eulogistic funeral oration, on the deceased diplomatist. All parties were represented in the hall, Republicans and Democrats alike had come. America admits no party feeling, no recollection of political differences, to intrude upon the homage she gratefully renders to the memory of her ill.u.s.trious dead.
The mayor's speech, listened to by the crowd in respectful silence, was much like all the speeches delivered on such occasions, including the indispensable sentence that "he knew he could safely affirm that the deceased had never made any enemies." When I hear a man spoken of, after his death, as never having made any enemies, as a Christian I admire him, but I also come to the conclusion that he must have been a very insignificant member of the community. But the phrase, I should remember, is a mere piece of flattery to the dead, in a country where death puts a stop to all enmity, political enmity especially. The same would be done in England, and almost everywhere. Not in France, however, where the dead continue to have implacable enemies for many years after they have left the lists.
The afternoon was pleasantly spent visiting the town hall and the remarkable china manufactories, which turn out very pretty, quaint, and artistic pottery. The evening brought to the Odeon a fashionable and most cultivated audience. I am invited to pay a return visit to this city. I shall look forward to the pleasure of lecturing here again in April.
_March 9._
Spent a most agreeable Sunday in the hospitable house of M. Fredin, the French consular agent, and his amiable and talented wife. M. Fredin was kind enough to call yesterday at the Burnet House.
As a rule, I never call on the representatives of France in my travels abroad. If I traveled as a tourist, I would; but traveling as a lecturer, I should be afraid lest the object of my visits might be misconstrued, and taken as a gentle hint to patronize me.
One day I had a good laugh with a French consul, in an English town where I came to lecture. On arriving at the hall I found a letter from this diplomatic compatriot, in which he expressed his surprise that I had not apprised him of my arrival. The next morning, before leaving the town, I called on him. He welcomed me most gracefully.
"Why did you not let me, your consul, know that you were coming?" he said to me.
"Well, Monsieur le Consul," I replied, "suppose I wrote to you: 'Monsieur le Consul, I shall arrive at N. on Friday,' and suppose, now, just suppose, that you answered me, 'Sir, I am glad to hear you will arrive here on Friday, but what on earth is that to me?'"
He saw the point at once. A Frenchman always does.
_March 10._
I like this land of conjuring. This morning I took the street car to go on the Burnet Hills. At the foot of the hill the car--horses, and all--enters a little house. The house climbs the hill vertically by means of cables. Arrived at the top of the mountain, the car comes out of the little house and goes on its way, just as if absolutely nothing had happened. To return to town, I went down the hill in the same fashion. But if the cable should break, you will exclaim, where would you be? Ah, there you are! It does not break. It did once, so now they see that it does not again.
[Ill.u.s.tration: A VARIETY ACTOR.]
In the evening there was nothing to see except variety shows and wrestlers. There was a variety show which tempted me, the Hermann's Vaudevilles. I saw on the list of attractions the name of my friend and compatriot, F. Trewey, the famous shadowgraphist, and I concluded that if the other artistes were as good in their lines as he is in his, it would be well worth seeing. The show was very good of its kind, and Trewey was admirable; but the audience were not refined, and it was not his most subtle and artistic tricks that they applauded most, but the broader and more striking ones. After the show he and I went "over the Rhine." You know what it means.
_March 11, 9 a. m._
For a long time I had wished to see the wonderful American fire brigades at work. The wish has now been satisfied.
At half-past one this morning I was roused in my bed by the galloping of horses and the shouts of people in the street. Huge tongues of fire were licking my window, and the heat in the room was intense. Indeed, all around me seemed to be in a blaze, and I took it for granted that the Burnet House was on fire. I rose and dressed quickly, put together the few valuables that were in my possession, and prepared to make for the street. I soon saw, however, that it was a block of houses opposite that was on fire, or rather the corner house of that block.
The guests of the hotel were in the corridors ready for any emergency.
Had there been any wind in our direction, the hotel was doomed. The night was calm and wet. As soon as we became aware that no lives were lost or in danger in the burning building, and that it would only be a question of insurance money to be paid by some companies, we betook ourselves to admire the magnificent sight. For it was a magnificent sight, this whole large building, the prey of flames coming in torrents out of every window, the dogged perseverance of the firemen streaming floods of water over the roof and through the windows, the salvage corps men penetrating through the flames into the building in the hope of receiving the next day a commission on all the goods and valuables saved. A fierce battle it was between a brute element and man. By three o'clock the element was conquered, but only the four walls of the building remained, which proved to me that, with all their wonderful prompt.i.tude and gallantry, all firemen can do when flames have got firm hold on a building is to save the adjoining property.
[Ill.u.s.tration: A FIRE YARN.]
I listened to the different groups of people in the hotel. Some gave advice as to how the firemen should set about their work, or criticised.
Others related the big fires they had witnessed, a few indulging in the recital of the exploits they performed thereat. There are a good many Gascons among the Americans. At four o'clock all danger was over, and we all retired.
[Ill.u.s.tration: AS WE SAW IT.]
[Ill.u.s.tration: AS THE REPORTERS SAW IT.]
I was longing to read the descriptions of the fire in this morning's papers. I have now read them and am not at all disappointed. On the contrary, they are beyond my most sanguine expectations. Wonderful; simply perfectly wonderful! I am now trying to persuade myself that I really saw all that the reporters saw, and that I really ran great danger last night. For, "at every turn," it appears, "the n.o.ble hotel seemed as if it must become the prey of the fierce element, and could only be saved by a miracle." Columns and columns of details most graphically given, sensational, blood-curdling. But all that is nothing.
You should read about the panic, and the scenes of wild confusion in the Burnet House, when all the good folks, who had all dressed and were looking quietly at the fire from the windows, are described as a crowd of people in despair: women disheveled, in their night-dresses, running wild, and throwing themselves in the arms of men to seek protection, and all shrieking and panic-stricken. Such a scene of confusion and terror you can hardly imagine. Wonderful!