Bennett's end was tragic, as might be expected. Sometime after the Havana journey Barnum sent him to London. He conducted the business successfully, wrote up the accounts to a penny, then handing the papers to a mutual friend with directions to give them to Barnum when he should arrive, he went to his lodgings and committed suicide.
"In New Orleans the wharf was crowded by a great concourse of persons, as the steamer "Falcon" approached. Jenny Lind had enjoyed a month of quiet, and dreaded the excitement which she must now again encounter.
"Mr Barnum, I am sure I can never get through that crowd," she said in despair.
"Leave that to me. Remain quiet for ten minutes, and there shall be no crowd here," replied Barnum.
Taking his daughter on his arm, she drew her vail over her face and they descended the gangway.
"That's Barnum, I know him," called out several persons at the top of their voices.
"Open the way, if you please for Mr. Barnum and Miss Lind!" cried Le Grand Smith over the railing of the ship, the deck of which he had just reached from the wharf.
"Don't crowd her, if you please, gentlemen," said Barnum, and so pushing and squeezing they reached the carriage and drove to Miss Lind's apartments. A few minutes later Jenny and her companion came quietly in a carriage and were in the house before the ruse was discovered. In answer to the calls of the crowd she appeared on the balcony, and bowed to the throng, which gave her three cheers and dispersed.
A very funny incident occurred in New Orleans. Next to the theatre where the concerts were given, was an exhibition in the large open lots of mammoth hogs, grizzly bears and other animals.
A gentleman had a son about twelve years old, who had a wonderful ear for music. He could whistle or sing any tune after hearing it once. His father did not know nor care for a single note, but so anxious was he to please his son, that he paid thirty dollars for two tickets to the concert.