SCIENCE FOR THE PUBLIC--MESMERISM EXTRAORDINARY--KILLING OF A
RIVAL--THE TWO GIANTS--DISCOVERY OF "TOM THUMB"--SEEKING OTHER
WORLDS TO CONQUER--FIRST VISIT TO ENGLAND.
Barnum would never submit to being outdone by a rival. In "poker"
parlance, he would "see him and go one better." His chief
competitor now was Peale, who was running Peale's Museum, and
proudly proclaiming it to be a more scientific institution than
Barnum's. Thus, he said, he was catering to a higher class of
patrons.
"Science, indeed!" said Barnum. "I'll give him science to his
heart's content!"
Mesmerism was then a great novelty, and Peale was given
exhibitions of it. He had one subject on whom he operated daily,
with most surprising results; though at times she was
unimpressionable, and the people who had paid to come in and see
her performances complained loudly that they were being swindled.
Barnum saw here a great opportunity to squelch a rival and
increase his own fame at a single stroke. He engaged a bright
little girl who was exceedingly susceptible to such mesmeric
influences as he could induce. That is, she learned her lesson
thoroughly, and when he had apparently put her to sleep with a
few passes and stood behind her, she seemed to be duly
"impressed," as he desired; raised her hands as he willed, fell
from her chair to the floor; and if he put candy or tobacco into
his own mouth, she was duly delighted or disgusted. She never
failed in these routine performances. Strange to say, believers
in mesmerism used to witness her performances with the greatest
pleasure, and adduce them as positive proofs that there was
something in mesmerism, and they applauded tremendously--up to a
certain point.
That point was reached when, leaving the girl "asleep," Barnum
called up some one in the audience, promising to put him "in the
same state" within five minutes, or forfeit fifty dollars. Of
course, all his "passes" would not put a man in the mesmeric
state; at the end of three minutes he was as wide awake as ever.
"Never mind," Barnum would say, "looking at his watch; "I have
two minutes more, and meantime, to show that a person in this
state is utterly insensible to pain, I propose to cut off one of
the fingers of the little girl who is still asleep." He would
then take out a knife and feel of the edge, and when he turned
around to the girl whom he left on the chair, she had fled behind
the scenes, to the intense amusement of the greater part of the
audience, and to the amazement of the mesmerists who were
present.
"Why! where's my little girl?" he asked, with feigned
astonishment.
"Oh! she ran away when you began to talk about cutting off
fingers."
"Then she was wide awake, was she?"
"Of course she was, all the time."
"I suppose so; and, my dear sir, I promised that you should be
'in the same state' at the end of five minutes, and as I believe
you are so, I do not forfeit fifty dollars."
Barnum kept up this performance for several weeks, till he quite
killed Peale's "genuine" mesmerism in the rival establishment. At
the end of six months he bought Peale's Museum, and the whole,
including the splendid gallery of American portraits, was removed
to the American Museum, and he immediately advertised the great
card of a "Double Attraction," and "Two Museums in One," without
extra charge.
Barnum was now devoting all his attention and energy to this
enterprise, and was achieving great success. He made everything
contribute to its popularity. When a politician asked him for
what candidate he was going to vote, he would answer, "For the
American Museum;" and this was an index of his whole demeanor.
Among the genuine and literally "great" features of his show were
several giants. They often gave both the showman and his patrons
food for much amusement as well as wonder. The Quaker giant,
Hales, was quite a wag in his way. He went once to see the new
house of an acquaintance who had suddenly become rich, but who
was a very ignorant man. When he came back he described the
wonders of the mansion, and said that the proud proprietor showed
him everything from basement to attic; parlors, bed-rooms,
dining-room, and, said Hales, "what he calls his
'study'--meaning, I suppose, the place where he intends to study
his spelling-book!"
He had at one time two famous men, the French giant, M. Bihin, a
very slim man, and the Arabian giant, Colonel Goshen. These men
generally got on together very well, though, of course, each was
jealous of the other, and of the attention the rival received, or
the notice he attracted. One day they quarreled, and a lively
interchange of compliments ensued, the Arabian calling the
Frenchman a "Shanghai," and receiving in return the epithet of
"Nigger." From words both were eager to proceed to blows, and
both ran to the collection of arms, one seizing the club with
which Captain Cook, or any other man, might have been killed, if
it were judiciously wielded, and the other laying hands on a
sword of the terrific size which is supposed to have been
conventional in the days of the Crusades.
The preparations for a deadly encounter, and the high words of
the contending parties, brought a dozen of the Museum attaches to
the spot, and these men threw themselves between the gigantic
combatants. Hearing the disturbance, Barnum ran from his private
office to the dueling ground, and said:
"Look here! This is all right; if you want to fight each other,
maiming and perhaps killing one or both of you, that is your
affair; but my interest lies here: you are both under engagement
to me, and if this duel is to come off, I and the public have a
right to participate. It must be duly advertised, and must take
place on the stage of the Lecture Room. No performance of yours
would be a greater attraction, and if you kill each other, our
engagement can end with your duel."
This proposition, made in apparent earnest, so delighted the
giants that they at once burst into a laugh, shook hands, and
quarreled no more.
From giants to dwarfs. None of Barnum's attractions has been more
famous than "Tom Thumb." The story of his discovery and
engagement is dated in November, 1842. Barnum was then at
Bridgeport, Conn. One day he heard that there belonged in one of
the families of the place a phenomenally small child, and he got
his brother, Philo F. Barnum, to bring the little fellow to his
hotel. "He was," Barnum afterward said, "not two feet high; he
weighed less than sixteen pounds, and was the smallest child I
ever saw that could walk alone; he was a perfectly formed
bright-eyed little fellow, with light hair and ruddy cheeks, and
he enjoyed the best of health. He was exceedingly bashful, but
after some coaxing, he was induced to talk with me, and he told
me that he was the son of Sherwood E. Stratton, and that his own
name was Charles S. Stratton. After seeing him and talking with
him, I at once determined to secure his services from his parents
and to exhibit him in public. I engaged him for four weeks, at
three dollars a week, with all traveling and boarding charges for
himself and his mother at my expense. They came to New York
Thanksgiving day, December 8th, 1842, and I announced the dwarf
on my Museum bills as 'General Tom Thumb.' "
Barnum took the greatest pains to educate and train the
diminutive prodigy, devoting many hours to the task by day and by
night, and he was very successful, for the boy was an apt pupil,
with a great deal of native talent, and a keen sense of the
ludicrous. Barnum afterward re-engaged him for one year, at seven
dollars a week with a gratuity of fifty dollars at the end of the
engagement, and the privilege of exhibiting him anywhere in the
United States, in which event his parents were to accompany him
and Barnum was to pay all traveling expenses. He speedily became
a public favorite, and long before the year was out, Barnum
voluntarily increased his weekly salary to twenty-five dollars,
and he fairly earned it.
For two years Barnum had been the owner of the Museum. He had
enjoyed great prosperity. Long ago he had paid every dollar of
the purchase-money out of the profits of the place. All rivals
had been driven from the field. He was out of debt, and had a
handsome balance in the bank. The experimental stage was passed,
and the enterprise was an established success. It was, indeed, in
such perfect order that Barnum felt safe in leaving it to his
lieutenants, while he went forth to seek new realms of conquest.
Accordingly he made an agreement for General Tom Thumb's services
for another year, at fifty dollars a week and all expenses, with
the privilege of exhibiting him in Europe. He proposed to test
the curiosity of men and women on the other side of the Atlantic.
After arranging his business affairs for a long absence, and
making every preparation for an extended foreign tour, on
Thursday, January 18th, 1844, he went on board the new and fine
sailing ship "Yorkshire," Captain D. G. Bailey, bound for
Liverpool. The party included General Tom Thumb, his parents, his
tutor, and Professor Guillaudeu, a French naturalist. They were
accompanied by several personal friends, and the City Brass Band
kindly volunteered to escort them to Sandy Hook.
They were met at Liverpool by a large crowd of sight-seers, who
had been attracted thither by the fame of "Tom Thumb." The
curiosity of the populace was not gratified, however, for Barnum
had the child smuggled ashore unseen, under his mother's shawl.
"My letters of introduction," said the showman, many excellent
families, and I was induced to hire a hall and present the
General to the public, for a short season in Liverpool. I had
intended to proceed directly to London, and begin operations at
'headquarters,' that is, in Buckingham Palace, if possible; but I
had been advised that the royal family was in mourning for the
death of Prince Albert's father, and would not permit the
approach of any entertainments. Meanwhile, confidential letters
from London informed me that Mr. Maddox, Manager of Princess's
Theatre, was coming down to witness my exhibition, with a view to
making an engagement. He came privately, but I was fully informed
as to his presence and object. A friend pointed him out to me in
the hall, and when I stepped up to him, and called him by name,
he was 'taken all aback,' and avowed his purpose in visiting
Liverpool. An interview resulted in an engagement of the General
for three nights at Princess's Theatre. I was unwilling to
contract for a longer period, and even this short engagement,
though on liberal terms, was acceded to only as a means of
advertisement. So soon, therefore, as I could bring my short, but
highly successful, season in Liverpool to a close, we went to
London."