From London the Wild West visited Birmingham, where it occupied the Aston Lower Grounds; thence to Manchester—“Cottonopolis,” as it is endearingly called by its inhabitants—where the winter season was opened. In the short space of two months the largest theater ever seen in the world was here erected by an enterprising firm of Manchester builders, together with a commodious building attached to it for the accommodation of the troupe, whose tents and tepees were erected under its shelter. The whole of the structure was comfortably heated by steam and illuminated by electric light. This building was built on the great race-course, where several times in the course of each year it is not uncommon for 80,000 or 100,000 persons to assemble; and the buildings in which Ormonde, Ben d’Or, Robert the Devil, and a thousand other world-famed equine wonders had taken their rest and refreshment, were now appropriated to the comfort of the broncos, mustangs, and other four-footed coadjutors of the Wild West.
The first performance given in Manchester was complimentary, and the entire beauty, rank, and fashion of Manchester and the surrounding towns were invited guests. The mayors, town councils, corporation officials, prominent merchants and manufacturers, bishops and clergy of all denominations, and an able-bodied horde of pressmen came down in their thousands. From Liverpool, across country through Leeds and York to Hull and New Castle, and fromCarlisle, as far south as Birmingham, everybody of consequence was present, and the immense building was filled to its utmost capacity. The consequence was that from the opening day, and despite the dreary winter weather, the well-lighted, well-warmed “Temple of Buffalo Bill and Thespis”—as somebody called it—was constantly crowded with pleasure-seeking throngs. Incidentally it may be mentioned that the scores of requisitions from the heads of schools and charitable institutions for reduced rates for “their little waifs,” was always met by the management of the Wild West with a courteous invitation for the little ones to attend the Wednesday afternoon performances free of charge. During their stay in “Cottonopolis” the members of the Wild West were welcomed with the same ungrudging and overwhelming hospitality that had marked their visit to the capital. While here Colonel Cody was publicly presented with a magnificent rifle by the artistic, dramatic, and literary gentlemen of Manchester, and the event having got wind in London, the élite of the metropolitanliterati, headed by Sir Somers Vine and including representatives of all the great American journals, secured a special train and ran up to Manchester some hundred strong to grace the ceremony with their presence. The presentation took place in the arena, and afterward Colonel Cody invited the whole crowd of local celebrities and London visitors to a regular camp dinner, with fried oysters, Boston pork and beans, Maryland chicken, and other American dishes, and a real Indian “rib-roast” as thepiece de resistance. The banquet was held in the race-course pavilion. Among the guests were the Mayor of Salford, a number of civic dignitaries from both Manchester and the neighboring borough, United States Consul Moffat of London and Consul Hale of Manchester, thelatter of whom made the speech of the evening. This dinner was certainly an entirely original lay-out to the visitors, and the comments of the English guests upon the novel and to them outlandish fare they were consuming were highly amusing to the American members of the party. To the Englishmen corn-cake, hominy, and other Americanfixingswere a complete revelation, and the rib-roast, served in tin platters and eaten in the fingers, without knives or forks, was a source of huge wonderment. The American flag was rarely ever toasted more heartily by Englishmen than on that occasion, and for a week afterward the press of the country were dilating on the strange and savage doings at the Wild West camp.
The afternoon of Good Friday, the consent of the directors of the Manchester race-track having been obtained, a series of open-air horse races and athletic sports was performed by the members of the company—red and white—which included hurdle-races, bareback horsemanship, etc. Notwithstanding very inclement weather during the earlier part of the day, an attendance of nearly 30,000 was recorded, and the weather cleared up and kept fine during the progress of the sports.
During this visit to Manchester the Freemasons of the district treated Colonel Cody with marked hospitality, and he was a frequent visitor at their lodges. A mark of especial honor from this occult and powerful body was a public presentation to him of a magnificent gold watch in the name of the Freemasons of England. The season in Manchester was a grand success in every way, and the people had begun to regard the institution as a permanency among them; but their engagements in the land of the stars and stripes wereas fixed and unalterable as the laws of the Medes and Persians, and on Monday evening, May 1st, was given the last indoor representation in Manchester. The occasion was a perfect ovation. On Tuesday afternoon a benefit was tendered Colonel Cody by the race-course people. An outdoor performance was given, and despite the unfavorable weather the turn-stiles showed that nearly 50,000 people had paid admission to the grounds. Thus ended the Wild West performances in Manchester.
On Friday morning, May 4th, at 11A. M., amid the cheers, well-wishes, and handshaking of a vast crowd, the Wild West left Manchester by special train for Hull, where the last performance in England was given on the afternoon of Saturday, May 5th, and at 9 o’clock on that evening the entire effects of the monster aggregation were aboard the good ship Persian Monarch, upon which vessel, under the command of the brave, gallant, and courteous Captain Bristow, the Wild West left for New York the next morning at 3 o’clock. On the homeward voyage Colonel Cody’s favorite horse Charlie died. For fifteen years he had ridden Charlie in sunshine and in storm, in days of adversity as well as prosperity, and to this noble animal’s fleetness of foot Colonel Cody owed his life on more than one occasion when pursued by Indians.
During the night of May 19th, the Persian Monarch arrived off New York harbor, and by daylight of the 20th steamed up toward Staten Island, where they were to debark.
The arrival of this vessel, outside of the company’s reception, was an event of future commercial importance to the port of New York, from the fact of her being the first passenger-ship of her size, draught, and class to effect a landing (at Bechtel’s wharf) directly on the shores of Staten Island, thusdemonstrating the marine value of some ten miles of seashore of what in a few short years must be a part of the greater New York.
Upon the arrival of this giant combination at its home, it would seem that a long and undisturbed rest would have been natural and consequent. Such, however, was not to be the case. The master-mind concluded that it would be well to show to his own countrymen what manner of exhibition it was that had accomplished such wonderful results on its visit to Albion. A summer season was inaugurated at Erastina, S. I., and New York followed. In this latter city Colonel Cody originated, at Madison Square Garden, the now popular and much-copied idea of leviathan spectacle. Visits respectively to Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Washington followed, and this remarkable exhibition closed, at the Richmond, Va., exposition, a wonderful and uninterrupted season which had begun two years and seven months before at St. Louis, Mo. Faithful to his promises, and following his invariable custom, Colonel Cody saw that all his people, from the Texan cowboy and the Mexican vacquero to the Sioux warrior of Dakota, had safe and pleasant conduct to their homes. The realistic story of America had been told in the mother country, and the interest of Continental Europe had also been awakened. The returning red man, cowboy, and Mexican had had experiences and learned lessons the value of which it is impossible to compute, and the influence of which must perforce permeate their entire lives and broaden their thought and moral nature, leading to results of unbounded possibilities. The cowboy by the camp-fire of his prairie home, the vacquero among his companions in Mexico’s mountains, and the red man in his lodge and with his people, had wonderful tales to tell during the winter nights of their well-earned resting-spell.