DEATH OF HIS GRANDMOTHER AND FATHER--LEFT PENNILESS AND
BAREFOOTED--WORK IN A STORE--HIS FIRST LOVE--TRYING TO BUY
RUSSIA--UNCLE BIBBIN'S DUEL.
In August, 1825, the aged grandmother met with an accident in
stepping on the point of a rusty nail, which shortly afterwards
resulted in her death. She was a woman of great piety, and before
she died sent for each of her grandchildren--to whom she was
devoted--and besought them to lead a Christian life. Barnum was
so deeply impressed by that death-bed scene that through his
whole life neither the recollection of it, nor of the dying
woman's words, ever left him.
The elder Barnum was a man of many enterprises and few successes.
Besides being the proprietor of a hotel he owned a livery-stable,
ran a sort of an express, and kept a country store. Phineas was
his confidential clerk, and, if he did not reap much financial
benefit from his position, he at least obtained a good business
education.
On the 7th of September, 1825, the father, after a six months'
illness, died at the age of forty-eight, leaving a wife and five
children and an insolvent estate. There was literally nothing
left for the family; the creditors seized everything; even the
small sum which Phineas had loaned his father was held to be the
property of a minor, and therefore belonging to the estate. The
boy was obliged to borrow money to buy the shoes he wore to the
funeral. At fifteen he began the world not only penniless but
barefooted.
He went at once to Grassy Plain, a few miles northwest of Bethel,
where he managed to obtain a clerkship in the store of James S.
Keeler and Lewis Whitlock, at the magnificent salary of six
dollars a month and his board. He had chosen his uncle, Alanson
Taylor, as his guardian, but made his home with Mrs. Jerusha
Wheeler and her two daughters; Mary and Jerusha. He worked hard
and faithfully, and so gained the esteem of his employers that
they afforded him many opportunities for making money on his own
account. His small speculations proved so successful that before
long he found himself in possession of quite a little sum.
"I made," says Barnum, "a very remarkable trade at one time for
my employers by purchasing, in their absence, a whole wagon-load
of green glass bottles of various sizes, for which I paid in
unsalable goods at very profitable prices. How to dispose of the
bottles was then the problem, and as it was also desirable to get
rid of a large quantity of tin-ware which had been in the shop
for years and was con-siderably 'shop worn,' I conceived the idea
of a lottery, in which the highest prize should be twenty-five
dollars, payable in any goods the winner desired, while there
were to be fifty prizes of five dollars each, payable in goods,
to be designated in the scheme. Then there were one hundred
prizes of one dollar each, one hundred prizes of fifty cents
each, and three hundred prizes of twenty-five cents each. It is
unnecessary to state that the minor prizes consisted mainly of
glass and tin-ware; the tickets sold like wildfire, and the worn
tin and glass bottles were speedily turned into cash."
Mrs Barnum still continued to keep the village hotel at Bethel,
and Phineas went home every Saturday night, going to church with
his mother on Sunday, and returning to his work Monday morning.
One Saturday evening Miss Mary Wheeler, at whose house the young
man boarded, sent him word that she had a young lady from Bethel
whom she desired him to escort home, as it was raining violently,
and the maiden was afraid to go alone. He assented readily
enough, and went over to "Aunt Rushia's," where he was introduced
to Miss Charity ("Chairy," for short) Hallett. She was a very
pretty girl and a bright talker, and the way home seemed only too
short to her escort. She was a tailoress in the village, and went
to church regularly, but, although Phineas saw her every Sunday
for many weeks, he had no opportunity of the acquaintance that
season.
Mrs. Jerusha Wheeler and her daughter Jerusha were familiarly
known, the one as "Aunt Rushia," and the other as "Rushia." Many
of the store customers were hatters, and among the many kinds of
furs sold for the nap of hats was one known to the trade as
"Russia." One day a hatter, Walter Dibble, called to buy some
furs. Barnum sold him several kinds, including "beaver" and
"cony," and he then asked for some "Russia." They had none, and
as Barnum wanted to play a joke upon him, he told him that Mrs.
Wheeler had several hundred pounds of "Rushia."
"What on earth is a woman doing with 'Russia?' " said he.
Barnum could not answer, but assured him that there were one
hundred and thirty pounds of old Rushia and one hundred and fifty
pounds of young Rushia in Mrs. Wheeler's house, and under her
charge, but whether or not it was for sale he could not say. Off
he started to make the purchase and knocked at the door. Mrs.
Wheeler, the elder, made her appearance.
"I want to get your Russia," said the hatter.
Mrs. Wheeler asked him to walk in and be seated. She, of course,
supposed that he had come for her daughter "Rushia."
"What do you want of Rushia?" asked the old lady.
"To make hats," was the reply.
"To trim hats, I suppose you mean?" responded Mrs. Wheeler.
"No, for the outside of hats," replied the hatter.
"Well, I don't know much about hats," said the old lady, "but I
will call my daughter."
Passing into another room where "Rushia" the younger was at work,
she informed her that a man wanted her to make hats.
"Oh, he means sister Mary, probably. I suppose he wants some
ladies' hats," replied Rushia, as she went into the parlor.
"This is my daughter," said the old lady.
"I want to get your Russia," said he, addressing the young lady.
"I suppose you wish to see my sister Mary; she is our milliner,"
said young Rushia.
"I wish to see whoever owns the property," said the hatter.
Sister Mary was sent for, and, as she was introduced, the hatter
informed her that he wished to buy her "Russia."
"Buy Rushia!" exclaimed Mary, in surprise; I don't understand
you."
"Your name is Miss Wheeler, I believe," said the hatter, who was
annoyed by the difficulty he met with in being understood.
"It is, sir."
"Ah! very well. Is there old and young Russia in the house?"
"I believe there is," said Mary, surprised at the familiar manner
in which he spoke of her mother and sister, who were present.
"What is the price of old Russia per pound?" asked the hatter.
"I believe, sir, that old Rushia is not for sale," replied Mary,
indignantly.
"Well, what do you ask for young Russia?" pursued the hatter.
"Sir," said Miss Rushia the younger, springing to her feet, "do
you come here to insult defenceless females? If you do, sir, our
brother, who is in the garden, will punish you as you deserve."
"Ladies!" exclaimed the hatter, in astonishment, "what on earth
have I done to offend you? I came here on a business matter. I
want to buy some Russia. I was told you had old and young Russia
in the house. Indeed, this young lady just stated such to be the
fact, but she says the old Russia is not for sale. Now, if I can
buy the young Russia I want to do so--but if that can't be done,
please to say so, and I will trouble you no further."
"Mother, open the door and let this man go out; he is undoubtedly
crazy," said Miss Mary.
"By thunder! I believe I shall be if I remain here long,"
exclaimed the hatter, considerably excited. "I wonder if folks
never do business in these parts, that you think a man is crazy
if he attempts such a thing?"
"Business! poor man!" said Mary soothingly, approaching the door.
"I am not a poor man, madam," replied the hatter. "My name is
Walter Dibble; I carry on hatting extensively in Danbury; I came
to Grassy Plain to buy fur, and have purchased some 'beaver' and
'cony,' and now it seems I am to be called 'crazy' and a 'poor
man,' because I want to buy a little 'Russia' to make up my
assortment."
The ladies began to open their eyes; they saw that Mr. Dibble was
quite in earnest, and his explanation threw considerable light
upon the subject.
"Who sent you here?" asked sister Mary.
"The clerk at the opposite store," was the reply.
"He is a wicked young fellow for making all this trouble," said
the old lady; "he has been doing this for a joke."
"A joke!" exclaimed Dibble, in surprise, "have you no Russia,
then?"
"My name is Jerusha, and so is my daughter's," said Mrs. Wheeler,
"and that, I suppose, is what he meant by telling you of old and
young Rushia."
Mr. Dibble, without more words, left the house and made for the
store. "You young villain!" he cried, as he entered, "what did
you mean by sending me over there to buy Russia?"
"I didn't," answered the young villain, with a perfectly solemn
face, "I thought you were a widower or a bachelor who wanted to
marry Rushia."
"You lie," said the discomfited Dibble, laughing in spite of
himself; "but never mind, I'll pay you off some day." And
gathering up his furs he departed.
On another occasion this sense of humor and love of joking was
turned to very practical account. Among the customers at the
store were a half a dozen old Revolutionary pensioners, who were
permitted to buy on credit, leaving their pension papers as
security. One of these pensioners was a romancing old fellow
named Bevans--more commonly known as "Uncle Bibbins." He was very
fond of his glass, and fonder still of relating anecdotes of the
Revolution, in which his own prowess and daring were always the
conspicuous features. His pension papers were in the possession
of Keeler & Whitlock, but it was three months before the money
was due, and they grew very weary of having him for a customer.
They tried delicately suggesting a visit to his relatives in
Guilford, but Uncle Bibbins steadily refused to take the hint.
Finally young Barnum enlisted the services of a journeyman hatter
named Benton, and together they hit on a plan. The hatter was
inspired to call Uncle Bibbins a coward, and to declare his
belief that if the old gentleman was wounded anywhere it must
have been in the back. Barnum pretended to sympathize with the
veteran's just indignation, and finally fired him up to the pitch
of challenging the hatter to mortal combat. The challenge was
promptly accepted, and the weapons chosen were muskets and ball,
at a distance of twenty feet. Uncle Bibbins took his second
(Barnum, of course) aside, and begged him to see that the guns
were loaded only with blank cartridges. He was assured that it
would be so, and that no one would be injured in the encounter.
The ground was measured back of the store, the principals and
seconds took their places, and the word of command was given.
They fired, Uncle Bibbins, of course, being unhurt, but the
hatter, with a fearful yell, fell to the ground as if dead.
Barnum rushed up to the frightened Bevans and begged him to fly,
promising to let him know when it was safe for him to return. The
old fellow started out of town on a run, and for the next three
months remained very quietly at Guilford. At the end of that time
his faithful second sent for him, with the assurance that his
late adversary had not only recovered from his wound but had
freely forgiven all. Uncle Bibbins then returned and paid up his
debts. Meeting Benton on the street some days later, the two foes
shook hands, Benton apologizing for his insult. Uncle Bibbins
accepted the apology, "but," he added, "you must be careful after
this how you insult a dead-shot."