Preparations were then made for the giant's burial in order that when
brought to public view it might show the proper evidence of antiquity.
It was buried in the side of a hill only a few rods from the
outbuilding, where it had been chiseled from a huge block of stone
taken from that very hill. In all this work, huge and heavy as the
uncut stone and the giant hewn out of it were, Hull had only the
assistance of one man, a sled and a yoke of oxen in moving them. This
helper was a green and stolid German immigrant, utterly devoid of
curiosity, and the man who helped to bury the giant was another of the
same description.
The statue was allowed to remain more than two years in the ground
before its maker considered it to be in proper condition for
"accidental" discovery. Hull then promptly "discovered" and dug out the
"petrification," and placed it on public view to amaze and perplex
people generally and to delight the antiquarians, who found it an
argument to uphold some of their most cherished theories. It took its
name from the fact that near the spot where it was buried and
resurrected was a small hamlet called Cardiff. The public career of the
"Cardiff Giant" was not of long continuance, however, but was
sufficiently lengthy to enable Mr. Hull to make considerable money out
of his clever conception. He declared, however, that he might have made
much more money if he had accepted Mr. Barnum's offer made at the time
of the giant's first appearance in public. Mr. Hull knew, too, that
exposure was bound to come in the end, but that mattered not to him.
For many years thereafter the "Cardiff Giant" reposed neglected in the
very shop in which it was made; but its owner and inventor averred that
he was entirely content with the financial result of his ingenuity.
"Bridgeport, Oct. 8, 1870.
"My Dear Coup: Yours received. I will join you in a show for next
spring and will probably have Admiral Dot well trained this winter
and have him and Harrison in the show. Wood will sell all his
animals right, and will furnish several tip-top museum curiosities.
You need to spend several months in New York arranging for
curiosities, cuts, cages, bills, etc. All things got from Wood I
will settle for with him and give the concern credit. We can make a
stunning museum department. If you want to call it _my_ museum and
use my name it may be used by allowing me the same very small
percentage that Wood allows for calling himself my successor (3 per
cent on receipts). You can have a Cardiff Giant that won't crack,
also a moving figure, Sleeping Beauty or Dying Zouave--a big
Gymnastic figure like that in Wood's museum, and lots of other good
things, only you need time to look them up and prepare wagons,
etc., etc.
"Yours truly,
"P. T. BARNUM."
"I will spare time to cook up the show in New York when you come. I
think Siamese Twins would pay."
The year 1884 is a memorable one in the annals of circus history, and
circus men remember it as the "White Elephant Year." For many years
persistent attempts had been made by enterprising showmen to secure for
exhibition purposes a sacred white elephant. Schemes by the score had
been discussed in the confidential councils of the showmen in winter
quarters, with a view to faking a black elephant into a white one, but
without satisfactory results. In the winter of 1883, however, it was
given out by Mr. Barnum's manager that he had positively succeeded in
purchasing from the King of Siam a sacred white elephant. The press was
splendidly "worked" in advance, and the sacred white elephant
monopolized the gossip of circus circles.