Sandow In America
Eugen Sandow’s FIRST HOUR IN AMERICA
First experiences are occasionally curious. You shall hear one of mine.
Although the day we reached New York was the hottest that had ever been known in that great country of wonderful records, no heat, however extreme, could detract from the glories of New York Harbour, certainly the finest harbour I have ever seen. Numerous people, including, of course, the ubiquitous newspaper men, came on board to welcome me, bands were playing, and there was a gay and busy time generally.
Having landed, I entered a cab. Everyone, I suppose, has a vivid recollection of his first cab in America. The independence of the American cab-driver is sublime. It is something too great for words. You can only draw a long breath—and admire it. The particular journey which I was undertaking would have been in England something considerably less than a shilling fare. Hoping to be generous I proffered the driver an equivalent in English money to two shillings. To my surprise he said, “I guess, Colonel, that’s for myself; your fare is four dollars”—just eight times as much as I had offered. Of course, I could not argue with the man. He knew better than I, and there was nothing for it but to pay promptly what he demanded. Moreover, in America, it must be remembered, they charge, not for the drive, but for the cab.
Mr. Abbey, who met me on the boat, accompanied me to the hotel at which I was to stay. At the office his attention was called away for a moment, and I was left to the tender mercies of the bell boy who was asked to show me the rooms.
“Come along, sir,” the boy drawled. And along I went, making my first acquaintance with an American elevator, in which we were shot up heavenwards.
“How high are we?” I asked, as we got out.
“Oh, this is the sixteenth floor,” replied the boy, in an off-hand manner, “you can see if you look down.” I did look down. By Jove, the depth down that staircase was tremendous.
Having selected my apartments, the boy coolly stood beside me in my own room rolling a cigarette and lighting it in my presence. This action seemed a little impudent, but it was nothing to that which was to come. Remarking that I desired to wash, I also asked the boy if he would clean my boots.
“Clean your boots?” he exclaimed, in blank astonishment, “we don’t do that in America, we don’t clean boots here.”
“Who then,” I asked, “does clean them?”
“Oh, you must go down stairs for that.” And with these words he reclined on my sofa, rolled another cigarette, and calmly smiled at me.
This was really too much for flesh and blood to bear. I said to him sharply, “Look here, young man; I may be a stranger in this country and ignorant of some of its ways, but I know enough of Americans to be quite sure that it is not right for you to conduct yourself in this way. If you don’t promptly clear off I will report you!”
But the boy was not easily to be moved. Instead of taking himself off he squared up and wanted to fight me. So I just took hold of that boy, and testing his jacket and trousers to be sure that they would bear the strain, I swung him over the sixteenth floor staircase. And there for a few moments I held him, just to give him a view of the depth, which was so tremendous.
My word, didn’t that boy shout and scream! I assured him that he was quite safe in my hand so long as it was closed, but if he ever attempted his impertinences again I would bring him to the same spot and open it. And I reminded him that a drop through sixteen floors would not be good even for boys who smoked cigarettes in private rooms and affected to be indignant at the suggestion that they should clean a visitor’s boots.
The boy’s cries drew a small crowd, including Martinus Sieveking and the manager of the hotel. The manager fully agreed with the warning I gave the boy, and was profuse in his apologies, saying that such conduct from a bell boy was unprecedented.
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 emphasized 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.
MY LION FIGHT IN SAN FRANCISCO
Perhaps the greatest, certainly the most thrilling, of all my experiences is that which I am about to relate. It is the story of my lion fight in San Francisco.
I was performing in that western city at the time of the mid-winter fair, which followed the Chicago Exhibition. In connection with this fair Colonel Bone was exhibiting a great menagerie. One day he advertised a fight to the death between a lion and a bear. A tremendous tent, with accommodation for twenty thousand people, was erected for the occasion. Thousands and thousands of persons had bought tickets, when the police issued an order forbidding the performance, and the proposed spectacle had to be abandoned.
The thought occurred to me that I should take the bear’s place, and measure my strength against the king of the forests. Of course there is always between the unarmed man and the beast this disadvantage, that the beast has natural weapons in his teeth and claws, whilst a man has nothing to help him in the fight. This lion, moreover, was a particularly furious animal. Only a week before he made a meal of his keeper. I have met many lions in various places, and this beast was certainly the largest and finest of them all. I was fully prepared to meet him as he was, provided I could have an equivalent for his claws in a short dagger or some similar weapon; but the law in America, as in England, is rightly very stern against cruelty to animals, and the dagger, of course, could not be allowed. If I desired to meet the beast the only way was to fight him as I would box a man, completely unarmed. As there is no law to prevent cruelty to men, there was no objection to this method, though Colonel Bone, as well as my own friends, insisted that if there was to be a fight it must be a struggle between brute strength and human strength. In short, mittens would have to be placed on the lion’s feet to prevent him from tearing me to pieces with his claws, and a muzzle would have to be placed over his head. Even with these precautions I was advised not to proceed with the contest. “With his strength,” said Colonel Bone, “he’ll knock your head off.” But, personally, I had no fear, I was only anxious for the contest to begin. The engagement was accordingly made, and “A lion fight with Sandow” was boldly advertised. The announcement sent a thrill through the cities for hundreds of miles around, and in order fully to be equipped for a performance which would be bound to attract thousands and thousands of people, I decided to rehearse my fight with the lion beforehand.
Accordingly, preparations were made, and with much difficulty the lion was mittened and muzzled. It took several men with lassos and chains some hours to perform this operation, for not only had they to guard against the animal’s overpowering strength, but they had to proceed cautiously in order not to injure him. A great cage, measuring seventy feet across, was brought round, and into it Colonel Bone, one of the most experienced of lion tamers, let the animal enter. Few people were present, but amongst them was my manager, that tall, slim, great, little Ziegfeld, with a face white as snow. There is no doubt that Mr. Ziegfeld and the small company felt the position acutely, for, though personally I had confidence in myself—and confidence of victory is always half a battle won—yet those around were by no means sure of the issue, and there was some fear that my first fight with a lion might be my last.
However, my purpose being fixed, I entered the cage, unarmed and stripped to the waist. The lion, with fury in his eyes, crouched down ready to spring. Having read a good deal of the methods of the lion I was not unprepared for this form of attack. As he made his last strain for a tremendous leap I stepped sharply to the side and he missed his mark. Turning quickly before he had time fully to recover, I caught him round the throat with my left arm, and round the middle with my right. By this means, though his weight was 530lbs., I lifted him as high as my shoulder, gave him a good hug to assure him that it was necessary to respect me, and tossed him on to the floor.
Thus outdone at his first attempt, the lion roared with rage. Rushing fiercely towards me he raised his huge paw to strike a heavy blow at my head. For the moment, feeling the swish of the lion’s paw as it passed my face, I really thought that Colonel Bone’s remark that he would knock my head off would prove true. Luckily I dodged my head just in time, and got a good grip round the lion’s body, with my chest touching his and his feet over my shoulders. Now came the tussle; the more I hugged him the more he scratched and tore, and, though his feet were mittened, he tore through my tights and parts of my skin. But I had got him as in a vice, and his efforts to get away were fruitless. Choosing an opportune moment, I flung him off me, Colonel Bone and my manager shouting to me to come out of the cage, as I had done enough, and the lion’s rage was unbounded.
I was determined, however, before I left to try just one other feat. Moving away from the lion, I stood with my back towards him, thus inviting him to jump on me. I had not to wait many moments. He sprang right on my back. Throwing up my arms I gripped his head, then caught him firmly by the neck, and in one motion, shot him clean over my own head to the ground before me. Colonel Bone rushed into the cage, snapping two revolvers to keep the lion off, and I came out, my legs torn, my neck bleeding, and with scratches all over my body; but I felt that I had mastered that lion, and that I should have little difficulty in mastering him again at the performance that was to be given next day in public.
When the hour for the fight came, the huge tent which held twenty thousand people was literally packed in every part. The cage with the lion was outside, and whilst he was being mittened and muzzled he became so furious that he broke two iron chains that bound him, and got loose. The people shrieked, the very men who a moment before had been boasting of their bravery, were the first to fly, and there was a general stampede. But the moment the lion saw my eyes fixed fearlessly and firmly on him he seemed paralyzed. Colonel Bone came up and pulled out his revolver, telling me not to take my eyes off him, as I had him in my power. Whilst we both remained motionless, the cage was brought near his head, and by a dexterous movement I had him over on his back, and once more he was a prisoner. The keepers tried again to mitten him, and after a great struggle they succeeded.
Then came the scene in the arena. The lion appeared first, and as I entered the whole place shook with cheers and applause. Through the whole of that vast assembly ran a thrill of great excitement, and photographers were there ready to take instantaneous pictures of the various positions of the fight with the lion. But no sooner did I enter the cage than the animal cowered down. He knew that I was his master: and he refused to fight. Feeling that the audience would be sadly disappointed, I tried to goad him on, but nothing would move him. Most beasts are cowards at heart, and this lion having met his match at the rehearsal, refused to budge.
At last I caught hold of his tail and twisted it. This was the only thing that moved him. As he made a bound towards me I dodged, swung round and picked him up, and then tossed him down. The fight lasted scarcely two minutes. The lion, recognizing that my strength was too much for him, would fight no more. Though I lifted him up and walked round the arena with him on my shoulders he remained as firm as a rock and as quiet as a lamb. The fierce fight at the rehearsal had subdued his courage. He was clearly conquered. I was afraid that my audience would be disappointed with the comparative tameness of the proceedings, but, on the contrary, everyone seemed thoroughly satisfied, and “the lion fight with Sandow” was long the talk of the day in San Francisco.
FURTHER INCIDENTS OF THE TOUR
At the end of my engagement in San Francisco I organized my own company for a holiday tour in California. What a lovely country is that; a country of perpetual summer and blue sky, of bright flowers and delicious breezes. Well do I remember our arrival in Los Angeles. Thousands and thousands of people came to meet our coach, the children smothering us with roses as though it were some battle of flowers.
But, of course, there were rough journeys in America as well as pleasant ones. On the way to Omaha, for example, we had an experience of the wilds. At the small villages at which the train stopped it seemed to be the custom to adjourn for the fifteen or twenty minutes to the gambling dens that adjoin the stations. Gambling has never had any attraction for me personally, but “In Rome one does as Rome does;” and so in America. Accordingly, we visited one of these gambling houses. There is no question about the gambling. You play with dice. Everything is conducted at lightning speed, and before you know where you are high stakes have been lost or won—usually, it may be said, they are lost. In our case we started, in the few minutes at our disposal, by winning a good deal. Then we lost, and we left that place with our pockets practically empty. I had lost three hundred dollars, another lost four hundred, and a third eight hundred.
During the next part of the journey we heard that there was another gambling house at the station at which we should stop on our way. It was in connection, we understood, with that at which we had just lost our money, and no doubt the manager would be informed by telegram of the easy manner in which we had been duped, in order to be prepared for our arrival. But we were determined to be even with those gambling house keepers. We agreed at the start not to risk more than five dollars, and if we won we would depart with our winnings before the luck, as in the last case, set in against us. For once expectations were realized. Precisely the same thing happened. At the beginning we had all the luck; we not only recovered what we had previously lost, but each of us had a few hundred dollars to the good. Then of a sudden our luck began to turn. That was the signal. There was six or seven minutes to spare before the train started, and the manager and his friends said “You have lots of time, gentlemen, they will tell you when the train’s ready.” Much to their astonishment, however, we insisted on leaving, and as we walked out with our pockets fairly full the faces of those men were a study. I think on this occasion we had turned the tables successfully.
MY DOG SULTAN
END OF THE TOUR
At this stage of the tour I will introduce, with the reader’s permission, my dog Sultan, the holder of seventeen first prizes. This dog, a handsome boar-hound, standing about thirty-four inches high at the shoulders and weighing some two hundred pounds, had been presented to me as a puppy by Prince Bismarck. Though I have never specially trained him, the dog has remarkable intelligence. My companion throughout my tour in America, he used to jump into the luggage van at every journey’s end to find my trunks, and those that were not too heavy for him to lift, he would bring out of the van. A similar performance would be repeated when we reached the hotel. Sultan would himself carry a good deal of the luggage upstairs, taking it up piece by piece, and disdaining the assistance of those who would sometimes offer to give him help. Not unnaturally, he became a great favorite wherever we went, and, though it was against the regulations, the hotel managers would allow us to have him in our rooms. He would never go out without carrying a satchel containing his chain and muzzle, a box of pills, two brushes, a tooth brush, a comb, and a few pieces of flannel, which were used for rubbing him down and keeping his coat in careful condition. He seemed to know perfectly each of these contents, and if one was ever missing he would not be satisfied until it was found or replaced.
Sultan can carry me very easily. Once in America I sprained my foot. I happened to be staying at the time at about the only hotel in the country which is not furnished with elevators. My rooms were on the second floor, and that faithful and devoted creature would carry me up and down stairs before and after each performance, for I was still able to fulfil my engagements despite the sprain.
It is a peculiar thing about Sultan that, though he will not hurt you, yet if you enter a room whilst he is in it alone he will never let you leave until someone has attended to you. As a thief catcher, he is, for this reason, unequalled. On one occasion, as you shall hear, during my American tour, he saved my watch—that watch which was presented to me by my friend the French count. Whilst I am at the theatre I usually leave my coat and vest hanging on the wall of my dressing-room, Sultan being left in charge. One night we missed for more than an hour one of the stage assistants. When I returned to my dressing-room I was unable for the moment to enter. Sultan, it appeared, was blocking the door. Pushing it open I found the missing assistant at the other end of the room in a state of some uneasiness. I asked him what he was doing, and he explained that he had come to see if he could offer me any assistance. Having entered the room, the dog would not let him move, and altogether he made out such a piteous tale that I sent him off with half-a-dollar. When, however, I came to look at my things I found that my watch, instead of being where I left it, in my vest pocket, was lying on the table, together with some money which had been taken from my pockets. It was then clear that the man’s real object in entering my room was not that of assistance, but of robbery. I called him back, verified my suspicions, and had him immediately discharged. For that night’s work we treated Sultan to a special steak for his supper.
This unfortunately was not the only adventure which I had with this watch of which I was so proud. My friend’s gift seemed to be doomed. Whilst we were at Omaha there was a ball given in the city, and Mrs. Sandow and I were invited to be present. As we should be late in returning I told my valet to give Sultan his walk and then to take the dog home with him for the night. We reached home about half-past two in the morning, and being tired we went straight to bed. It may be explained that our bedroom stood behind the drawing-room, from which it was entered. Beyond the bedroom was the bathroom, in which I hung my clothes, leaving my watch and chain in my vest pocket.
I felt that night, as I felt on the “Elbe,” that something was going to happen. Owing to this feeling I took the precaution to lock the drawing-room door. No one could enter the bedroom without coming through the drawing-room first. We felt, therefore, reasonably secure. In addition to my watch and chain, there was Mrs. Sandow’s jewellery, which she had worn at the ball, whilst, amongst other special things, I had five twenty dollar pieces, which I had bought because of their rare dates. These gold pieces I left in my clothes in the bathroom; Mrs. Sandow’s jewellery remained in a drawer in the bedroom.
Through the night we slept without disturbance. In the morning the servant who came to look after our clothes noticed that my watch chain had been broken and that my watch was missing. The five twenty dollar pieces were also gone, but Mrs. Sandow’s jewellery was untouched.
Questioned as to how she got into the room, the girl said that the door was open. Someone had evidently broken into our rooms whilst we slept and had worked so quietly that they had not disturbed us.
A detective was called, and it was ascertained that shortly after we returned from the ball two well dressed men entered the hotel and asked for rooms on the first floor. It was then between two and three o’clock. Before five o’clock they left. The detective remarked that about that hour two men answering the description that was given had been seen to enter a train, and he thought he would be able to succeed in tracing them. I told him that if he brought my watch back he should be well rewarded.
When the rooms were examined it was found that the door had been opened by means of an instrument which was pushed through the keyhole to turn the key. The gas had been half turned on during the night, and no doubt they saw my watch-chain shining in the uncertain light, and decided to take those things that they could lay their hands on most easily without fear of waking us. It might have been supposed to be risky work to rob a strong man; but, on the other hand, it was found afterwards that the burglar was a desperate fellow, who had just completed nineteen years’ penal servitude for shooting a man who was unfortunate enough to wake up whilst he was rifling his room.
During the day the two men were arrested. Four of the twenty-dollar pieces were found on them, but the watch was still missing. The men were taken before the police authorities, but on the ground that the case was not fully proved they were dismissed. After this decision, the detective came to me to ask what the watch was worth. Five hundred pounds I told him, in actual money, but for me it had a priceless value, and not for five thousand pounds would I willingly part with it.
“Seeing that it is worth so much,” he said, “I will try to get it for you if you will promise to give me £800.”
At this moment I realized the situation; at any rate I felt justified in believing that this so-called detective was in league with the burglars, who had themselves owned in court that they knew where the watch was, though they refused flatly to give the information. Feeling disgusted with a man who could thus play so false and mean a game I took him by his neck and trousers and sent him flying through the door.
From that day to this I have never seen anything of my watch. It is, no doubt, lost to me for ever. If I had had my dog with me that night it would never have been stolen, for no burglar would have got past Sultan, however clever he might be at picking locks.
Throughout my tour I offered medals to those of my pupils who were able to show the highest developments under my system of physical training. Thousands of applications were received, and the amount of my correspondence was enormous. In the end I arranged a meeting, at which the pupils stripped for my personal examination, and there the awards were made.
I received also several challenges during my tour. These challenges were frequently made after I had left a city, and as it came to be clear that those who made them merely sought advertisement by associating their names with mine, I deposited ten thousand dollars with the “New York Herald” on the understanding that anyone who seriously meant business should also make a deposit as a guarantee of his good faith. If he duplicated my feats of strength the money would be his. But though this sum was deposited for about nine months I never received an answer. No one ever attempted to win that ten thousand dollars and I have the original cheque, made out to James Gordon-Bennett, to this day. I have had it framed and preserve it as a memento.
At the end of my first tour in America I returned to England, engaged fresh talent for my company, and invented and practiced some new feats of strength, including that which I have entitled the Roman horse exercise, and that in which two people drive over me with a horse and chariot. Afterwards I paid a short return visit to America, to fulfil certain engagements, and then came back again to London.
DISCOVER
