ST. LOUIS--THE SECRETARY'S LITTLE GAME--LEGAL ADVICE--SMOOTH
WATERS AGAIN--BARNUM'S EFFORTS APPRECIATED--AN EXTRAVAGANT
ENCONIUM.
The concerts at Natchez and Memphis were extremely successful.
The sixty-first concert was given in St. Louis, and on the
morning of their arrival in the city Miss Lind's secretary came
to Mr. Barnum, commissioned, as he claimed, by the singer, and
told the Manager that as sixty concerts had already been given,
Miss Lind proposed to avail herself of one of the conditions of
the contract and cancel the engagement next morning. Much
startled by this sudden complication, but outwardly undisturbed,
Barnum asked if Miss Lind had authorized the notice. "I so
understand it," was the secretary's reply. Thinking that it might
be another scheme of her advisers and that Miss Lind herself
might possibly know nothing of it, Barnum told the secretary that
he would see him again in an hour. He then proceeded to his old
friend Sol Smith for legal advice. They went over the contract
together, Barnum telling his friend of the annoyances he had
suffered from Miss Lind's advisers, and they both agreed that if
she broke the contract thus suddenly, she was bound to pay back
all that she had received over the stipulated $1000, for each
concert. As she had been paid $137,000, for sixty concerts, this
extra money amounted to something like $77,000.
Barnum then went back to the secretary and told him that he was
ready to settle with Miss Lind and to close the engagement.
"But," said he, evidently much surprised, "you have already
advertised concerts in Louisville and Cincinnati, have you not?"
"Yes," answered Barnum calmly, "but you may take the contracts
for halls and printing off my hands at cost." He further offered
the assistance of his agent and his own personal services to give
Miss Lind a good start on her own account.
The secretary emboldened by this liberality then made a
proposition so extraordinary that Barnum at once saw that Miss
Lind could have had nothing to do with the scheme.
"Now suppose," he asked, "Miss Lind should wish to give some
fifty concerts in this country, what would you charge as
manager?"
"A million dollars a concert," answered Barnum promptly; then he
added, "Now see here; I don't believe Miss Lind has authorized
you to make this proposition. If she has, just bring me a line to
that effect, over her own signature, and her check for the amount
due me by the terms of our contract, some $77,000, and we will
close our business connection at once."
"But why not make a new arrangement," persisted the secretary,
"for fifty more concerts, by which Miss Lind will pay you
liberally, say $1,000 a concert?"
"For the simple reason that I hired Miss Lind, and not she me,"
replied Barnum, "and because I ought never to take a farthing
less for my risk and trouble than the contract gives me. I have
voluntarily given Miss Lind more than twice as much as I
originally contracted to give her, or as she expected to receive
when she engaged with me. Now if she is not satisfied I wish to
settle instantly and finally. If you do not bring me her decision
to-day, I shall ask her for it in the morning."
The next morning Barnum asked him again for the written
communication from Miss Lind; the secretary replied that it was
all a "joke," and that he merely wanted to see what the manager
would say to the proposition. He begged that nothing would be
said to Miss Lind concerning it. So it is altogether likely that
she knew nothing of it. The four concerts at St. Louis were given
and the program as arranged for the other cities was carried out,
with no more troublous incidents occurring.
To show that Barnum's efforts as manager of the Jenny Lind
enterprise were appreciated, we copy the dedication of Sol
Smith's Autobiography published in 1854. Smith was one of the
characters of his time, being celebrated as a comedian, an
author, a manager and a lawyer:
"TO PHINEAS T. BARNUM, PROPRIETOR OF THE AMERICAN MUSEUM, ETC.
"Great Impressario. Whilst you were engaged in your grand Jenny
Lind speculation, the following conundrum went the rounds of the
American newspapers:
" 'Why is it that Jenny Lind and Barnum will never fall out?'
Answer: 'Because he is always for-getting, and she is always
for-giving.'
"I have never asked you the question directly, whether you, Mr.
Barnum, started that conundrum, or not; but I strongly suspect
that you did. At all events, I noticed that your whole policy was
concentrated into one idea--to make an angel of Jenny, and
depreciate yourself in contrast.
"You may remember that in this city (St. Louis), I acted in one
instance as your 'legal adviser,' and as such, necessarily became
acquainted with all the particulars of your contract with the
so-called Swedish Nightingale, as well as the various
modifications claimed by that charitable lady, and submitted to
by you after her arrival in this country; which modifications (I
suppose it need no longer be a secret) secured to her--besides
the original stipulation of one thousand dollars for every
concert, attendants, carriages, assistant artists, and a pompous
and extravagant retinue, fit (only) for a European
princess--one-half of the profits of each performance. You may
also remember the legal advice I gave you on the occasion
referred to, and the salutary effect of your following it. You
must remember the extravagant joy you felt afterwards, in
Philadelphia, when the 'Angel' made up her mind to avail herself
of one of the stipulations in her contract, to break off at the
end of a hundred nights, and even bought out seven of that
hundred--supposing that she could go on without your aid as well
as with it. And you cannot but remember, how, like a rocket-stick
she dropped, when your business connection with her ended, and
how she 'fizzed out' the remainder of her concert nights in this
part of the world, and soon afterwards retired to her domestic
blissitude in Sweden.
"You know, Mr. Barnum, if you would only tell, which of the two
it was that was 'for-getting,' and which 'for-giving;' and you
also know who actually gave the larger portion of those sums
which you heralded to the world as the sole gifts of the 'divine
Jenny.'
"Of all your speculations--from the negro centenarian, who didn't
nurse General Washington, down to the Bearded Woman of
Genoa--there was not one which required the exercise of so much
humbuggery as the Jenny Lind concerts; and I verily believe there
is no man living, other than yourself, who could, or would, have
risked the enormous expenditure of money necessary to carry them
through successfully--travelling, with sixty artists; four
thousand miles, and giving ninety-three concerts, at an actual
cost of forty-five hundred dollars each, is what no other man
would have undertaken --you accomplished this, and pocketed by
the operation but little less than two hundred thousand dollars!
Mr. Barnum, you are yourself, alone!
"I honor you, oh! Great Impressario, as the most successful
manager in America or any other country. Democrat, as you are,
you can give a practical lesson to the aristocrats of Europe how
to live. At your beautiful and tasteful residence, 'Iranistan' (I
don't like the name, though), you can and do entertain your
friends with a warmth of hospitality, only equalled by that of
the great landed proprietors of the old country, or of our own
'sunny South.' Whilst riches are pouring into your coffers from
your various 'ventures' in all parts of the world, you do not
hoard your immense means, but continually 'cast them forth upon
the waters,' rewarding labor, encouraging the arts, and lending a
helping hand to industry in all its branches. Not content with
doing all this, you deal telling blows, whenever opportunity
offers, upon the monster Intemperance. Your labors in this great
cause alone should entitle you to the thanks of all good men,
women and children in the land. Mr. Barnum, you deserve all your
good fortune, and I hope you may long live to enjoy your wealth
and honor.
"As a small installment towards the debt, I, as one of the
community, owe you, and with the hope of affording you an hour's
amusement (if you can spare that amount of time from your
numerous avocations to read it), I present you with this little
volume, containing a very brief account of some of my
'journey-work' in the South and West; and remain, very
respectfully,
"Your friend, and affectionate uncle,
"SOL SMITH.
"CHOUTEAU AVENUE, ST. LOUIS,
"NOV. 1, 1854."
Although Barnum never acknowledged it, there was a vast deal of
truth in Mr. Smith's statements.
Whenever Miss Lind sang for charity she gave what she might have
earned at a regular concert; Barnum always insisted upon paying
for the hall, orchestra, printing and other expenses. But Miss
Lind received the entire credit for liberality and benevolence.
It is but just to say, however, that she frequently remonstrated
with Barnum and declared that the expenses ought to be deducted
from the proceeds of the concert, but he always insisted on doing
what he called his share.