CHAPTER VIII

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INCIDENTS OF THE AMERICAN TOUR

A fortnight after my arrival in New York I commenced an engagement at the Casino, and after each performance, whilst I was still stripped to the waist, I gave lecture on anatomy and my system of physical culture in my dressing-room. These lectures were attended by many of the most notable people in America, the crowded audiences including several ladies. I demonstrated how each feat was accomplished, and let the people feel for themselves my muscles, to prove that whilst, when they were relaxed they were as soft as butter, when contracted they were as hard as steel.

I repeated at the Casino the performances that I had been giving at the Palace Theatre in London. As my engagement lengthened I grew better acquainted with the American people, whom, let it frankly be admitted, I liked immensely. They are wonderfully nice fellows, these Americans. The only fault that is to be found with them is the too generous length to which their hospitality is liable to go in the direction of cock-tails. They like to give you a bath of cock-tails, and if a bath should not suffice, they would think nothing of making a river for you. For a moderate drinker like myself, their generosity is a little embarrassing, but as the point was emphasised that I could never have the assurance to say that I had been to America without tasting a cock-tail, I at last yielded to their persuasions, and, judging from the samples of Manhattan, Martini, and Oyster, which I tried, I am hound to confess that these drinks are exceedingly nice and that there is little to beat them. Another striking feature of life in America is to be found in the trotting horses. They are simply marvellous creatures, moving with the ease and almost with the speed of a railway engine.

From New York I went to Boston, where my system of physical training became very fashionable; and after the Boston visit came Chicago, Mr. Sieveking always accompanying me.

When I arrived at Chicago I went to the Trocadero, where I was to appear, and inquired for the manager. A tall slim fellow made his appearance in answer to the inquiry, and for some minutes a game of cross purposes ensued. For whilst I was not sure whether he really was the manager, he doubted whether I was the strong man whom he expected. At last, however, I ascertained that he was Mr. Ziegfeld, or at least Mr. Ziegfeld’s son, and he was assured that I was Sandow. He showed me round the theatre, which was a tremendous place, with accommodation for fully six thousand people. It had been originally an armoury, and was used more for concerts than variety entertainments. Mr. Ziegfeld had taken it because his other theatre, two days before the opening of the exhibition, was burned down. At the time of my arrival it was proving too big, but, as good luck would have it, such was the popularity of my performances, the building, despite its huge size, was filled nightly.

In the exhibition grounds one morning shortly after my arrival, Mr. Ziegfeld suggested that I should drive round in one of the hand wagons.

“My dear fellow,” I said, “it would never do for a strong man to be pushed round like that, what would the people say?”

“Oh, they don’t know you yet,” replied Mr. Ziegfeld, “you get in and try it.”

It was no use for me to chaff him by saying that these wagons were more suitable for idle fellows of his slim proportions, for inside he would have me get. Who of all people in the world should come to push me round but an unfortunate hunchback! The result was that next morning the papers came out with illustrations of the ludicrous scene, with the heading “The strong man too strong to walk.”

At the termination of the World’s Fair, Mr. Ziegfeld proposed that I should prolong my tour. I accepted his suggestion, engaged him as my manager, and he booked a tour for me, including all the principal cities. Throughout this tour I offered at each performance ten thousand dollars to any person who could duplicate my feats of strength or even do anything that could be said reasonably to approach them.

At St. Louis, one of the greatest beer brewing districts in the world, the challenge, I was informed, was to be accepted. The youth who was prepared to meet me, explained that he was somewhat too stiff to accomplish all my feats, and I accordingly promised that if he could repeat one of them, that was to lift with one hand over his head my heaviest dumb-bell weighing 300lbs., I would consent to give him the money.

When the time came for him to take up the challenge, he grew alarmed at the prospect. In answer to my manager’s announcement from the stage that we were ready for him, and that the money had been duly deposited, he stood up in the auditorium to remark that the challenge was made only as an advertisement, he did not believe in it, and he refused to come to the stage. With these words he rushed out of the building. His friends, who had a good deal of faith in his physical powers, rushed after him, and succeeded in bringing him back. In order further to encourage his drooping spirits my manager offered him the ten thousand dollars if he would lift the weight over his head with both hands. But still he did not like to attempt the task he had before rashly undertaken. We then reduced the conditions still further, promising that if he would lift the weight with two hands even as high as his shoulders we would still give him the money. His friends now chaffed and now rallied him, and at last he put his strength to the test; but lo, this vaunted strong man was a very weak man, for so far from being able to raise the weight to his shoulders, he succeeded scarcely in moving it from the ground.

[Illustration]

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