MR. AND MRS. GENERAL TOM THUMB.
MISS LAVINIA WARREN--A CHARMING LITTLE LADY--SUPPOSED TO BE THE
$30,000 NUTT IN DISGUISE--HER WARDROBE AND PRESENTS--STORY OF A
RING--THE LITTLE COMMODORE IN LOVE--TOM THUMB SMITTEN--RIVALRY OF
THE DWARFS--JEALOUSY OF THE GENERAL--VISIT AT BRIDGEPORT--THE
GENERAL’S STYLISH TURN-OUT--MISS WARREN IMPRESSED--CALL OF THE
GENERAL--A LILIPUTIAN LOVE SCENE--TOM THUMB’S INVENTORY OF HIS
PROPERTY--HE PROPOSES AND IS ACCEPTED--ARRIVAL OF THE
COMMODORE--HIS GRIEF--EXCITEMENT OVER THE ENGAGEMENT--THE WEDDING
IN GRACE CHURCH--REVEREND JUNIUS WILLEY--A SPICY LETTER BY DOCTOR
TAYLOR--GRAND RECEPTION OF MR. AND MRS. STRATTON--THE COMMODORE IN
SEARCH OF A GREEN COUNTRY GIRL.
In 1862 I heard of an extraordinary dwarf girl, named Lavinia Warren,
who was residing with her parents at Middleboro’, Massachusetts, and I
sent an invitation to her and her parents to come and visit me at
Bridgeport. They came, and I found her to be a most intelligent and
refined young lady, well educated, and an accomplished, beautiful and
perfectly-developed woman in miniature. I succeeded in making an
engagement with her for several years, during which she contracted--as
dwarfs are said to have the power to do--to visit Great Britain, France,
and other foreign lands.
Having arranged the terms of her engagement, I took her to the house of
one of my daughters in New York, where she remained quietly, while I was
procuring her wardrobe and jewelry, and making arrangements for her
début. As yet, nothing had been said in the papers about this
interesting young lady, and one day as I was taking her home with me to
Bridgeport, I met in the cars the wife of a wealthy menagerie
proprietor, who introduced me to her two daughters, young ladies of
sixteen and eighteen years of age, and then said:
“You have disguised the little Commodore very nicely.”
“That is not Commodore Nutt,” I replied, “it is a young lady whom I have
recently discovered.”
“Very well done, Mr. Barnum,” replied Mrs. B., with a look of self
satisfaction.
“Really,” I repeated, “this _is_ a young lady.”
“Thank you, Mr. Barnum, but I know Commodore Nutt in whatever costume
you put him; and I recognized him the moment you brought him into the
car.”
“But, Mrs. B.,” I replied, “Commodore Nutt is now exhibiting in the
Museum, and this is a little lady whom I hope to bring before the public
soon.”
“Mr. Barnum,” she replied, “you forget that I am a showman’s wife,
conversant with all the showman’s tricks, and that I cannot be
deceived.”
Seeing there was no prospect of convincing her, I replied in a
confidential whisper, for such chance for a joke was not to be lost:
“Well, I see you are too sharp for me, but I beg you not to mention it,
for you are the only person on board this train who suspects it is the
Commodore.”
“I will say nothing,” she replied, “but do please bring the little
fellow over here, for my daughters have never seen him.”
I stepped and told Lavinia the joke and asked her to help carry it out.
I then took her over where she got a seat in the midst of the three
ladies.
“Ah, Commodore,” whispered Mrs. B., “you have done it pretty well, but
bless you, I knew those eyes and that nose the moment I saw you.”
“Your eyes must be pretty sharp, then,” replied Lavinia.
“Oh, you see people in our line understand these things, and are never
deceived by appearances; but let me introduce you to these two young
ladies, my daughters.”
“We are happy to see you, sir,” said one of the young ladies. They then
enjoyed a very animated conversation, in the course of which they asked
the “Commodore” all about his family, and Lavinia managed to answer the
questions in such a way as to avoid suspicion. The ladies then informed
the “Commodore” that there was a sweet little lady living in their town
only sixteen years old, and if he would visit them, they would introduce
him; that her family was highly respectable, and she would make him a
capital wife! Lavinia thanked them and promised to visit them if it
should be convenient. As the ladies left the car, they shook hands with
Lavinia, kissed her, and in a whisper said “good morning, sir.” Meeting
the husband of the lady, some weeks afterwards, I told him the joke, and
he enjoyed it so highly that he will probably never let his wife and
daughters hear the last of it.
I purchased a very splendid wardrobe for Miss Warren, including scores
of the richest dresses that could be procured, costly jewels, and in
fact everything that could add to the charms of her naturally charming
little person. She was then placed on exhibition at the Museum and from
the day of her _débût_ she was an extraordinary success. Commodore Nutt
was on exhibition with her, and although he was several years her
junior he evidently took a great fancy to her. One day I presented to
Lavinia a diamond and emerald ring, and as it did not exactly fit her
finger, I told her I would give her another one and that she might
present this one to the Commodore in her own name. She did so, and an
unlooked-for effect was speedily apparent; the little Commodore felt
sure that this was a love-token, and poor Lavinia was in the greatest
trouble, for she considered herself quite a woman, and regarded the
Commodore only as a nice little boy. But she did not like to offend him,
and while she did not encourage, she did not openly repel his
attentions. Miss Lavinia Warren, however, was never destined to be Mrs.
Commodore Nutt.
It was by no means an unnatural circumstance that I should be suspected
of having instigated and brought about the marriage of Tom Thumb with
Lavinia Warren. Had I done this, I should at this day have felt no
regrets, for it has proved, in an eminent degree, one of the “happy
marriages.” I only say, what is known to all of their immediate friends,
that from first to last their engagement was an affair of the heart--a
case of “love at first sight”--that the attachment was mutual, and that
it only grows with the lapse of time. But I had neither part nor lot in
instigating or in occasioning the marriage. And as I am anxious to be
put right before the public, and so to correct whatever of false
impression may have gained ground, I have procured the consent of all
the parties to a sketch of the wooing, winning and nuptials. Of course I
should not lay these details before the public, except with the sanction
of those most interested. In this they consent to pay the penalty of
distinction. And if the wooings of kings and queens must be told, why
not the courtship and marriage of General and Mrs. Tom Thumb? The story
is an interesting one, and shall be told alike to exonerate me from the
suspicion named, and to amuse those--and they count by scores of
thousands--who are interested in the welfare of the distinguished
couple.
In the autumn of 1862, when Lavinia Warren was on exhibition at the
Museum, Tom Thumb had no business engagement with me; in fact, he was
not on exhibition at the time at all; he was taking a “vacation” at his
house in Bridgeport. Whenever he came to New York he naturally called
upon me, his old friend, at the Museum. He happened to be in the city at
the time referred to, and one day he called, quite unexpectedly to me,
while Lavinia was holding one of her levees. Here he now saw her for the
first time, and very naturally made her acquaintance. He had a short
interview with her, after which he came directly to my private office
and desired to see me alone. Of course I complied with his request, but
without the remotest suspicion as to his object. I closed the door, and
the General took a seat. His first question let in the light. He
inquired about the family of Lavinia Warren. I gave him the facts, which
I clearly perceived gave him satisfaction of a peculiar sort. He then
said, with great frankness, and with no less earnestness:
“Mr. Barnum, that is the most charming little lady I ever saw, and I
believe she was created on purpose to be my wife! Now,” he continued,
“you have always been a friend of mine, and I want you to say a good
word for me to her. I have got plenty of money, and I want to marry and
settle down in life, and I really feel as if I must marry that young
lady.”
The little General was highly excited, and his general manner betrayed
the usual anxiety, which, I doubt not, most of my readers will
understand without a description. I could not repress a smile, nor
forget my joke; and I said:
“Lavinia is engaged already.”
“To whom--Commodore Nutt?” asked Tom Thumb, with much earnestness, and
some exhibition of the “green-eyed monster.”
“No, General, to me,” I replied.
“Never mind,” said the General, laughing, “you can exhibit her for a
while, and then give up the engagement; but I do hope you will favor my
suit with her.”
I told the General that this was too sudden an affair; that he must take
time to think of it; but he insisted that years of thought would make no
difference, for his mind was fully made up.
“Well, General,” I replied, “I will not oppose you in your suit, but you
must do your own courting. I tell you, however, the Commodore will be
jealous of you, and more than that, Miss Warren is nobody’s fool, and
you will have to proceed very cautiously if you can succeed in winning
her affections.”
The General thanked me, and promised to be very discreet. A change now
came suddenly over him in several particulars. He had been (much to his
credit) very fond of his country home in Bridgeport, where he spent his
intervals of rest with his horses, and especially with his yacht, for
his fondness for the water was his great passion. But now he was
constantly having occasion to visit the city, and horses and yachts were
strangely neglected. He had a married sister in New York, and his
visits to her multiplied, for, of course, he came to New York “to see
his sister!” His mother, who resided in Bridgeport, remarked that
Charles had never before shown so much brotherly affection, nor so much
fondness for city life.
His visits to the Museum were very frequent, and it was noticeable that
new relations were being established between him and Commodore Nutt. The
Commodore was not exactly jealous, yet he strutted around like a bantam
rooster whenever the General approached Lavinia. One day he and the
General got into a friendly scuffle in the dressing-room, and the
Commodore threw the General upon his back in “double quick” time. The
Commodore is lithe, wiry, and quick in his movements, but the General is
naturally slow, and although he was considerably heavier than the
Commodore, he soon found that he could not stand before him in a
personal encounter. Moreover, the Commodore is naturally quick-tempered,
and when excited, he brags about his knowledge of “the manly art of
self-defence,” and sometimes talks about pistols and bowie knives, etc.
Tom Thumb, on the contrary, is by natural disposition decidedly a man of
peace; hence, in this, agreeing with Falstaff as to what constituted the
“better part of valor,” he was strongly inclined to keep his distance,
if the little Commodore showed any belligerent symptoms.
In the course of several weeks the General found numerous opportunities
to talk with Lavinia, while the Commodore was performing on the stage,
or was otherwise engaged; and, to a watchful discerner, it was evident
he was making encouraging progress in the affair of the heart. He also
managed to meet Lavinia on Sunday afternoons and evenings, without the
knowledge of the Commodore; but he assured me he had not yet dared to
suggest matrimony.
He finally returned to Bridgeport, and privately begged that on the
following Saturday I would take Lavinia up to my house, and also invite
him.
His immediate object in this was, that his mother might get acquainted
with Lavinia, for he feared opposition from that source whenever the
idea of his marriage should be suggested. I could do no less than accede
to his proposal, and on the following Friday, while Lavinia and the
Commodore were sitting in the green-room, I said:
“Lavinia, you may go up to Bridgeport with me to-morrow morning, and
remain until Monday.”
“Thank you,” she replied; “it will be quite a relief to get into the
country for a couple of days.”
The Commodore immediately pricked up his ears, and said:
“Mr. Barnum, _I_ should like to go to Bridgeport to-morrow.”
“What for?” I asked.
“I want to see my little ponies; I have not seen them for several
months,” he replied.
I whispered in his ear, “you little rogue, _that_ is the pony you want
to see,” pointing to Lavinia.
He insisted I was mistaken. When I remarked that he could not well be
spared from the Museum, he said:
“Oh! I can perform at half past seven o’clock, and then jump on to the
eight o’clock evening train, and go up by myself, reaching Bridgeport
before eleven, and return early Monday morning.”
I feared there would be a clashing of interests between the rival
pigmies; but wishing to please him, I consented to his request,
especially as Lavinia also favored it. I wished I could then fathom that
little woman’s heart, and see whether she (who must have discovered the
secret of the General’s frequent visits to the Museum) desired the
Commodore’s visit in order to stir up the General’s ardor, or whether,
as seemed to me the more likely, she was seeking in this way to prevent
a _denouement_ which she was not inclined to favor. Certain it is, that
though I was the General’s confidant, and knew all his desires upon the
subject, no person had discovered the slightest evidence that Lavinia
Warren had ever entertained the remotest suspicion of his thoughts
regarding marriage. If she had made the discovery, as I assume, she kept
the secret well. In fact, I assured Tom Thumb that every indication, so
far as any of us could observe, was to the effect that his suit would be
rejected. The little General was fidgety, but determined; hence he was
anxious to have Lavinia meet his mother, and also see his possessions in
Bridgeport, for he owned considerable land and numerous houses there.
The General met us at the depot in Bridgeport, on Saturday morning, and
drove us to my house in his own carriage--his coachman being tidily
dressed, with a broad velvet ribbon and silver buckle placed upon his
hat expressly for the occasion. Lavinia was duly informed that this was
the General’s “turn out”; and after resting half an hour at Lindencroft,
he took her out to ride. He stopped a few moments at his mother’s house,
where she saw the apartments which his father had built expressly for
him, and filled with the most gorgeous furniture--all corresponding to
his own diminutive size. Then he took her to East Bridgeport, and
undoubtedly took occasion to point out in great detail all of the houses
which he owned, for he depended much upon having his wealth make some
impression upon her. They returned, and the General stayed to lunch. I
asked Lavinia how she liked her ride; she replied:
“It was very pleasant, but,” she added, “it seems as if you and Tom
Thumb owned about all of Bridgeport!”
The General took his leave and returned at five o’clock to dinner, with
his mother. Mrs. Stratton remained until seven o’clock. She expressed
herself charmed with Lavinia Warren; but not a suspicion passed her mind
that little Charlie was endeavoring to give her this accomplished young
lady as a daughter-in-law. The General had privately asked me to invite
him to stay over night, for, said he, “If I get a chance, I intend to
‘pop the question’ before the Commodore arrives.” So I told his mother I
thought the General had better stop with us over night, as the Commodore
would be up in the late train, adding that it would be more pleasant for
the little folks to be together. She assented, and the General was
happy.
After tea Lavinia and the General sat down to play backgammon. As nine
o’clock approached, I remarked that it was about time to retire, but
somebody would have to sit up until nearly eleven o’clock, in order to
let in the Commodore. The General replied:
“I will sit up with pleasure, if Miss Warren will remain also.”
Lavinia carelessly replied, that she was accustomed to late hours, and
she would wait and see the Commodore. A little supper was placed upon
the table for the Commodore, and the family retired.
Now it happened that a couple of mischievous young ladies were visiting
at my house, one of whom was to sleep with Lavinia. They were suspicious
that the General was going to propose to Lavinia that evening, and, in a
spirit of ungovernable curiosity, they determined, notwithstanding its
manifest impropriety, to witness the operation, if they could possibly
manage to do so on the sly. Of course this was inexcusable, the more so
as so few of my readers, had they been placed under the same temptation,
would have been guilty of such an impropriety! Perhaps I should hesitate
to use the testimony of such witnesses, or even to trust it. But a few
weeks after, they told the little couple the whole story, were forgiven,
and all had a hearty laugh over it.
It so happened that the door of the sitting room, in which the General
and Lavinia were left at the backgammon board, opened into the hall just
at the side of the stairs, and these young misses, turning out the
lights in the hall, seated themselves upon the stairs in the dark, where
they had a full view of the cosy little couple, and were within easy
ear-shot of all that was said.
The house was still. The General soon acknowledged himself vanquished at
backgammon, and gave it up. After sitting a few moments, he evidently
thought it was best to put a clincher on the financial part of his
abilities; so he drew from his pocket a policy of insurance, and handing
it to Lavinia, he asked her if she knew what it was.
Examining it, she replied, “It is an insurance policy. I see you keep
your property insured.”
“But the beauty of it is, it is not my property,” replied the General,
“and yet I get the benefit of the insurance in case of fire. You will
see,” he continued, unfolding the policy, “this is the property of Mr.
Williams, but here, you will observe, it reads ‘loss, if any, payable to
Charles S. Stratton, as his interest may appear.’ The fact is, I loaned
Mr. Williams three thousand dollars, took a mortgage on his house, and
made him insure it for my benefit. In this way, you perceive, I get my
interest, and he has to pay the taxes.”
“That is a very wise way, I should think,” remarked Lavinia.
“That is the way I do all my business,” replied the General,
complacently, as he returned the huge insurance policy to his pocket.
“You see,” he continued, “I never lend any of my money without taking
bond and mortgage security, then I have no trouble with taxes; my
principal is secure, and I receive my interest regularly.”
The explanation seemed satisfactory to Lavinia, and the General’s
courage began to rise. Drawing his chair a little nearer to hers, he
said:
“So you are going to Europe, soon?”
“Yes,” replied Lavinia, “Mr. Barnum intends to take me over in a couple
of months.”
“You will find it very pleasant,” remarked the General; “I have been
there twice, in fact I have spent six years abroad, and I like the old
countries very much.”
“I hope I shall like the trip, and I expect I shall,” responded Lavinia;
“for Mr. Barnum says I shall visit all the principal cities, and he has
no doubt I will be invited to appear before the Queen of England, the
Emperor and Empress of France, the King of Prussia, the Emperor of
Austria, and at the courts of any other countries which we may visit.
Oh! I shall like that, it will be so new to me.”
“Yes, it will be very interesting indeed. I have visited most of the
crowned heads,” remarked the General, with an evident feeling of
self-congratulation. “But are you not afraid you will be lonesome in a
strange country?” asked the General.
“No, I think there is no danger of that, for friends will accompany me,”
was the reply.
“I wish I was going over, for I know all about the different countries,
and could explain them all to you,” remarked Tom Thumb.
“That would be very nice,” said Lavinia.
“Do you think so?” said the General, moving his chair still closer to
Lavinia’s.
“Of course,” replied Lavinia, coolly, “for I, being a stranger to all
the habits and customs of the people, as well as to the country, it
would be pleasant to have some person along who could answer all my
foolish questions.”
“I should like it first rate, if Mr. Barnum would engage me,” said the
General.
“I thought you remarked the other day that you had money enough, and was
tired of travelling,” said Lavinia, with a slightly mischievous look
from one corner of her eye.
“That depends upon my company while travelling,” replied the General.
“You might not find my company very agreeable.”
“I would be glad to risk it.”
“Well, perhaps Mr. Barnum would engage you, if you asked him,” said
Lavinia.
“Would you really like to have me go?” asked the General, quietly
insinuating his arm around her waist, but hardly close enough to touch
her.
“Of course I would,” was the reply.
The little General’s arm clasped the waist closer as he turned his face
nearer to hers, and said:
“Don’t you think it would be pleasanter if we went as man and wife?”
The little fairy quickly disengaged his arm, and remarked that the
General was a funny fellow to joke in that way.
“I am not joking at all,” said the General, earnestly, “it is quite too
serious a matter for that.”
“I wonder why the Commodore don’t come?” said Lavinia.
“I hope you are not anxious for his arrival, for I am sure _I_ am not,”
responded the General, “and what is more, I do hope you will say ‘yes,’
before he comes at all!”
“Really, Mr. Stratton,” said Lavinia, with dignity, “if you are in
earnest in your strange proposal, I must say I am surprised.”
“Well, I hope you are not _offended_,” replied the General, “for I was
never more in earnest in my life, and I hope you will consent. The first
moment I saw you I felt that you were created to be my wife.”
“But this is so sudden.”
“Not so very sudden; it is several months since we first met, and you
know all about me, and my family, and I hope you find nothing to object
to in me.”
“Not at all; on the contrary, I have found you very agreeable, in fact I
like you very much as a friend, but I have not thought of marrying,
and--”
“And what? my dear,” said the General, giving her a kiss. “Now, I beg
of you, don’t have any ‘buts’ or ‘ands’ about it. You say you like me as
a friend, why will you not like me as a husband? You ought to get
married; I love you dearly, and I want you for a wife. Now, deary, the
Commodore will be here in a few minutes, I may not have a chance to see
you again alone; do say that we will be married, and I will get Mr.
Barnum to give up your engagement.”
Lavinia hesitated, and finally said:
“I think I love you well enough to consent, but I have always said I
would never marry without my mother’s consent.”
“Oh! I’ll ask your mother. May I ask your mother? Come, say yes to that,
and I will go and see her next week. May I do that, pet?”
Then there was a sound of something very much like the popping of
several corks from as many beer bottles. The young eaves-droppers had no
doubt as to the character of these reports, nor did they doubt that they
sealed the betrothal, for immediately after they heard Lavinia say:
“Yes, Charles, you may ask my mother.” Another volley of reports
followed, and then Lavinia said, “Now, Charles, don’t whisper this to a
living soul; let us keep our own secrets for the present.”
“All right,” said the General, “I will say nothing; but next Tuesday I
shall start to see your mother.”
“Perhaps you may find it difficult to obtain her consent,” said Lavinia.
At that moment a carriage drove up to the door, and immediately the bell
was rung, and the little Commodore entered.
“_You_ here, General?” said the Commodore, as he espied his rival.
“Yes,” said Lavinia, “Mr. Barnum asked him to stay, and we were waiting
for you; come, warm yourself.”
“I am not cold,” said the Commodore; “where is Mr. Barnum?”
“He has gone to bed,” remarked the General, “but a nice supper has been
prepared for you.”
“I am not hungry, I thank you; I am going to bed. Which room does Mr.
Barnum sleep in?” said the little bantam, in a petulant tone of voice.
His question was answered; the young eaves-droppers scampered to their
sleeping apartments, and the Commodore soon came to my room, where he
found me indulging in the foolish habit of reading in bed.
“Mr. Barnum, does Tom Thumb board here?” asked the Commodore,
sarcastically.
“No,” said I, “Tom Thumb does not _board_ here. I invited him to stop
over night, so don’t be foolish, but go to bed.”
“Oh, it’s no affair of mine. I don’t care anything about it; but I
thought he had taken up his board here,” replied the Commodore, and off
he went to bed, evidently in a bad humor.
Ten minutes afterwards Tom Thumb came rushing into my room, and closing
the door, he caught hold of my hand in a high state of excitement and
whispered:
“We are engaged, Mr. Barnum! we are engaged! we are engaged!” and he
jumped up and down in the greatest glee.
“Is that possible?” I asked.
“Yes, sir, indeed it is; but you must not mention it,” he responded; “we
agreed to tell nobody, so please don’t say a word. I must tell _you_,
of course, but ‘mum is the word.’ I am going, Tuesday, to get her
mother’s consent.”
I promised secrecy, and the General retired in as happy a mood as I ever
saw him. Lavinia also retired, but not a hint did she give to the young
lady with whom she slept regarding the engagement. Indeed, our family
plied her upon the subject the next day, but not a breath passed her
lips that would give the slightest indication of what had transpired.
She was quite sociable with the Commodore, and as the General concluded
to go home the next morning, the Commodore’s equanimity and good
feelings were fully restored. The General made a call of half an hour
Sunday evening, and managed to have an interview with Lavinia. The next
morning she and the Commodore returned to New York in good spirits, I
remaining in Bridgeport.
The General called on me Monday, however, bringing a very nice letter
which he had written to Lavinia’s mother. He had concluded to send this
letter by his trusty friend, Mr. George A. Wells, instead of going
himself, and he had just seen Mr. Wells, who had consented to go to
Middleborough with the letter the following day, and to urge the
General’s suit, if it should be necessary.
The General went to New York on Wednesday, and was there to await Mr.
Wells’ arrival. On Wednesday morning the General and Lavinia walked into
my office, and after closing the door, the little General said:
“Mr. Barnum, I want somebody to tell the Commodore that Lavinia and I
are engaged, for I am afraid there will be a ‘row’ when he hears of it.”
“Do it yourself, General,” I replied.
“Oh,” said the General, almost shuddering, “I would not dare to do it,
he might knock me down.”
“I will do it,” said Lavinia; and it was at once arranged that I should
call the Commodore and Lavinia into my office, and either she or myself
would tell him. The General, of course, “vamosed.”
When the Commodore joined us and the door was closed, I said:
“Commodore, do you know what this little witch has been doing?”
“No, I don’t,” he answered.
“Well, she has been cutting up one of the greatest pranks you ever heard
of,” I replied. “She almost deserves to be shut up, for daring to do it.
Can’t you guess what she has done?”
He mused a moment, and then looking at me, said in a low voice, and with
a serious looking face, “Engaged?”
“Yes,” said I, “absolutely engaged to be married to General Tom Thumb.
Did you ever hear of such a thing?”
“Is that so, Lavinia?” asked the Commodore, looking her earnestly in the
face.
“That is so,” said Lavinia; “and Mr. Wells has gone to obtain my
mother’s consent.”
The Commodore turned pale, and choked a little, as if he was trying to
swallow something. Then, turning on his heel, he said, in a broken
voice:
“I hope you may be happy.”
As he passed out of the door, a tear rolled down his cheek.
“That is pretty hard,” I said to Lavinia.
“I am very sorry,” she replied, “but I could not help it. That diamond
and emerald ring which you bade me present in my name, has caused all
this trouble.”
Half an hour after this incident, the Commodore came to my office, and
said:
“Mr. Barnum, do you think it would be right for Miss Warren to marry
Charley Stratton if her mother should object?”
I saw that the little fellow had still a slight hope to hang on, and I
said:
“No, indeed, it would not be right.”
“Well, she says she shall marry him any way; that she gives her mother
the chance to consent, but if she objects, she will have her own way and
marry him,” said the Commodore.
“On the contrary,” I replied, “I will not permit it. She is engaged to
go to Europe for me, and I will not release her, if her mother does not
fully consent to her marrying Tom Thumb.”
The Commodore’s eyes glistened with pleasure, as he replied:
“Between you and me, Mr. Barnum, I don’t believe she will give her
consent.”
But the next day dissipated his hopes. Mr. Wells returned, saying that
Lavinia’s mother at first objected, for she feared it was a contrivance
to get them married for the promotion of some pecuniary advantage; but,
upon reading the letter from the General, and one still more urgent from
Lavinia, and also upon hearing from Mr. Wells that, in case of their
marriage, I should cancel all claims I had upon Lavinia’s services, she
consented.
After the Commodore had heard the news, I said to him:
“Never mind, Commodore, Minnie Warren is a better match for you; she is
a charming little creature, and two years younger than you, while
Lavinia is several years your senior.”
“I thank you, sir,” replied the Commodore, pompously, “I would not marry
the best woman living; I don’t believe in women, any way.”
I then suggested that he should stand with little Minnie, as groom and
bridesmaid, at the approaching wedding.
“No, sir!” replied the Commodore, emphatically; “I won’t do it!”
That idea was therefore abandoned. A few weeks subsequently, when time
had reconciled the Commodore, he told me that Tom Thumb had asked him to
stand as groom with Minnie, at the wedding, and he was going to do so.
“When I asked you, a few weeks ago, you refused,” I said.
“It was not your business to ask me,” replied the Commodore, pompously.
“When the proper person invited me I accepted.”
Of course the approaching wedding was announced. It created an immense
excitement. Lavinia’s levees at the Museum were crowded to suffocation,
and her photographic pictures were in great demand. For several weeks
she sold more than three hundred dollars’ worth of her _cartes de
visite_ each day. And the daily receipts at the Museum were frequently
over three thousand dollars. I engaged the General to exhibit, and to
assist her in the sale of pictures, to which his own photograph, of
course, was added. I could afford to give them a fine wedding, and I did
so.
The little couple made a personal application to Bishop Potter to
perform the nuptial ceremony, and obtained his consent; but the matter
became public, and outside pressure from some of the most squeamish of
his clergy was brought to bear upon the bishop, and he rescinded his
engagement.
This fact of itself, as well as the opposition that caused it, only
added to the notoriety of the approaching wedding, and increased the
crowds at the Museum. The financial result to me was a piece of good
fortune, which I was, of course, quite willing to accept, though in this
instance the “advertisement,” so far as the fact of the betrothal of the
parties with its preliminaries were concerned, was not of my seeking, as
the recital now given shows. But seeing the turn it was taking in
crowding the Museum, and pouring money into the treasury, I did not
hesitate to seek continued advantage from the notoriety of the
prospective marriage. Accordingly, I offered the General and Lavinia
fifteen thousand dollars if they would postpone the wedding for a month,
and continue their exhibitions at the Museum.
“Not for fifty thousand dollars,” said the General, excitedly.
“Good for you, Charley,” said Lavinia, “only you ought to have said not
for a _hundred thousand_, for I would not!”
They both laughed heartily at what they considered my discomfiture, and
such, looked at from a business point of view, it certainly was. The
wedding day approached and the public excitement grew. For several days,
I might say weeks, the approaching marriage of Tom Thumb was the New
York “sensation.” For proof of this I did not need what, however, was
[Illustration: _MARRIAGE IN MINIATURE._]
ample, the newspaper paragraphs. A surer index was in the crowds that
passed into the Museum, and the dollars that found their way into the
ticket office.
It was suggested to me that a small fortune in itself could be easily
made out of the excitement. “Let the ceremony take place in the Academy
of Music, charge a big price for admission, and the citizens will come
in crowds.” I have no manner of doubt that in this way twenty-five
thousand dollars could easily have been obtained. But I had no such
thought. I had promised to give the couple a genteel and graceful
wedding, and I kept my word.
The day arrived, Tuesday, February 10, 1863. The ceremony was to take
place in Grace Church, New York. The Rev. Junius Willey, Rector of St.
John’s Church in Bridgeport, assisted by the late Rev. Dr. Taylor, of
Grace Church, was to officiate. The organ was played by Morgan. I know
not what better I could have done, had the wedding of a prince been in
contemplation. The church was comfortably filled by a highly select
audience of ladies and gentlemen, none being admitted except those
having cards of invitation. Among them were governors of several of the
States, to whom I had sent cards, and such of those as could not be
present in person were represented by friends, to whom they had given
their cards. Members of Congress were present, also generals of the
army, and many other prominent public men. Numerous applications were
made from wealthy and distinguished persons for tickets to witness the
ceremony, and as high as sixty dollars was offered for a single
admission. But not a ticket was sold; and Tom Thumb and Lavinia Warren
were pronounced “man and wife” before witnesses.
The following entirely authentic correspondence, the only suppression
being the name of the person who wrote to Dr. Taylor and to whom Dr.
Taylor’s reply is addressed, shows how a certain would-be “witness” was
not a witness of the famous wedding. In other particulars, the
correspondence speaks for itself.
TO THE REV. DR. TAYLOR.--_Sir_: The object of my unwillingly
addressing you this note is to inquire what right you had to
exclude myself and other owners of pews in Grace Church from
entering it yesterday, enforced, too, by a cordon of police for
that purpose. If my pew is not my property, I wish to know it; and
if it is, I deny your right to prevent me from occupying it
whenever the church is open, even at a marriage of mountebanks,
which I would not take the trouble to cross the street to witness.
Respectfully, your obedient servant,
W*** S***
* * * * *
804 BROADWAY, NEW YORK, Feb. 16, 1863.
MR. W*** S***--_Dear Sir_: I am sorry, my valued friend, that you
should have written me the peppery letter that is now before me. If
the matter of which you complain be so utterly insignificant and
contemptible as “a marriage of mountebanks, which you would not
take the trouble to cross the street to witness,” it surprises me
that you should have made such strenuous, but ill-directed efforts
to secure a ticket of admission. And why--permit me to ask in the
name of reason and philosophy--do you still suffer it to disturb
you so sadly? It would perhaps be a sufficient answer to your
letter, to say that your cause of complaint exists only in your
imagination. You have never been excluded from your pew. As rector,
I am the only custodian of the church, and you will hardly venture
to say that you have ever applied to me for permission to enter,
and been refused.
Here I might safely rest, and leave you to the comfort of your own
reflections in the case. But as you, in common with many other
worthy persons, would seem to have very crude notions as to your
rights of “property” in pews, you will pardon me for saying that a
pew in a church is property only in a peculiar and restricted
sense. It is not property, as your house or your horse is property.
It vests you with no fee in the soil; you cannot use it in any way,
and in every way, and at all times, as your pleasure or caprice may
dictate; you cannot put it to any common or unhallowed uses; you
cannot remove it, nor injure it, nor destroy it. In short, you hold
by purchase, and may sell the right to the undisturbed possession
of that little space within the church edifice which you call your
pew during the hours of divine service. But even that right must be
exercised decorously, and with a decent regard for time and place,
or else you may at any moment be ignominiously ejected from it.
I regret to be obliged to add that by the law of custom, you may,
during those said hours of divine service (but at no other time)
sleep in your pew; you must, however, do so noiselessly and never
to the disturbance of your sleeping neighbors; your property in
your pew has this extent and nothing more. Now, if Mr. W*** S***
were at any time to come to me and say, “Sir, I would that you
should grant me the use of Grace Church for a solemn service (a
marriage, a baptism, or a funeral, as the case may be), and as it
is desirable that the feelings of the parties should be protected
as far as possible from the impertinent intrusion and disturbance
of a crowd from the streets and lanes of the city, I beg that no
one may be admitted within the doors of the church during the very
few moments that we expect to be there, but our invited friends
only,”--it would certainly, in such a case, be my pleasure to
comply with your request, and to meet your wishes in every
particular; and I think that even Mr. W*** S*** will agree that all
this would be entirely reasonable and proper. Then, tell me, how
would such a case differ from the instance of which you complain?
Two young persons, whose only crimes would seem to be that they are
neither so big, nor so stupid, nor so ill-mannered, nor so
inordinately selfish as some other people, come to me and say, sir,
we are about to be married, and we wish to throw around our
marriage all the solemnities of religion. We are strangers in your
city, and as there is no clergymen here standing in a pastoral
relation to us, we have ventured to ask the favor of the bishop of
New York to marry us, and he has kindly consented to do so; may we
then venture a little further, and request the use of your church
in which the bishop may perform the marriage service? We assure
you, sir, that we are no shams, no cheats, no mountebanks; we are
neither monsters nor abortions; it is true we are little, but we
are as God made us, perfect in our littleness. Sir, we are simply
man and woman of like passions and infirmities with you and other
mortals. The arrangements for our marriage are controlled by no
“showman,” and we are sincerely desirous that everything should be
ordered with a most scrupulous regard to decorum. We hope to invite
our relations and intimate friends, together with such persons as
may in other years have extended civilities to either of us; but we
pledge ourselves to you most sacredly that no invitation can be
bought with money. Permit us to say further, that as we would most
gladly escape from the insulting jeers, and ribald sneers and
coarse ridicule of the unthinking multitude without, we pray you to
allow us, at our own proper charges, so to guard the avenues of
access from the street, as to prevent all unseemly tumult and
disorder.
I tell you, sir, that whenever, and from whomsoever, such an appeal
is made to my Christian courtesy, although it should come from the
very humblest of the earth, I would go calmly and cheerfully
forward to meet their wishes, although as many W*** S***’s as would
reach from here to Kamtschatka, clothed in furs and frowns, should
rise up to oppose me.
In conclusion, I will say that if the marriage of Charles S.
Stratton and Lavinia Warren is to be regarded as a pageant, then it
was the most beautiful pageant it has ever been my privilege to
witness. If on the contrary, it is rather to be thought of as a
solemn ceremony, then it was as touchingly solemn as a wedding can
possibly be rendered. It is true the bishop was not present, but
Mr. Stratton’s own pastor, the Rev. Mr. Willey, of Bridgeport,
Connecticut, read the service with admirable taste and
impressiveness, and the bride was given away by her mother’s pastor
and her own “next friend,” a venerable congregational clergyman
from Massachusetts. Surely, there never was a gathering of so many
hundreds of our best people, when everybody appeared so delighted
with everything; surely it is no light thing to call forth so much
innocent joy in so few moments of passing time; surely it is no
light thing, thus to smooth the roughness and sweeten the
acerbities which mar our happiness as we advance upon the wearing
journey of life. Sir, it was most emphatically a high triumph of
“Christian civilization”!
Respectfully submitted, by your obedient servant,
THOMAS HOUSE TAYLOR.
Several thousand persons attended the reception of Mr. and Mrs. Tom
Thumb the same day at the Metropolitan Hotel. After this they started on
a wedding tour, taking Washington in their way. They visited President
Lincoln at the White House. After a couple of weeks they returned, and,
as they then supposed, retired to private life.
Habit, however, is indeed second nature. The General and his wife had
been accustomed to excitement, and after a few months’ retirement they
again longed for the peculiar pleasures of a public life, and the public
were eager to welcome them once more. They resumed their public career,
and have since travelled several years in Europe, and considerably in
this country, holding public exhibitions more than half the time, and
spending the residue in leisurely viewing such cities and portions of
the country as they may happen to be in. Commodore Nutt and Minnie
Warren, I should add, usually travel with them.
I met the little Commodore last summer, after his absence in Europe of
three years, and said:
“Are you not married yet, Commodore?”
“No, sir; my fruit is plucked,” he replied.
“You don’t mean to say you will never marry,” I remarked.
“No, not exactly,” replied the Commodore, complacently, “but I have
concluded not to marry until I am thirty.”
“I suppose you intend to marry one of your size?” I said.
“I am not particular in that respect,” but seeing my jocose mood, he
continued, with a comical leer, “I think I should prefer marrying a
good, green country girl, to anybody else.”
This was said with a degree of nonchalance, which none can appreciate
who do not know him.
To make sure that a lack of memory has not misled me as to any of the
facts in regard to the courtship and wedding of Tom Thumb and Lavinia
Warren, I will here say that, after writing out the story, I read it to
the parties personally interested, and they give me leave to say that,
in all particulars, it is a correct statement of the affair, except that
Lavinia remarked:
“Well, Mr. Barnum, your story don’t lose any by the telling”; and the
Commodore denies the “rolling tear,” when informed of the engagement of
the little pair.
In June 1869, the report was started, for the third or fourth time, in
the newspapers, that Commodore Nutt and Miss Minnie Warren were
married--this time at West Haven, in Connecticut. The story was wholly
untrue, nor do I think that such a wedding is likely to take place, for,
on the principle that people like their opposites, Minnie and the
Commodore are likely to marry persons whom they can literally “look up
to”--that is, if either of them marries at all it will be a tall
partner.
Soon after the wedding of General Tom Thumb and Lavinia Warren, a lady
came to my office and called my attention to a little six-paged pamphlet
which she said she had written, entitled “Priests and Pigmies,” and
requested me to read it. I glanced at the title, and at once estimating
the character of the publication, I promptly declined to devote any
portion of my valuable time to its perusal.
“But you had better look at it, Mr. Barnum; it deeply interests you, and
you may think it worth your while to buy it.”
“Certainly, I will buy it, if you desire,” said I, tendering her a
sixpence, which I supposed to be the price of the little pamphlet.
“Oh! you quite misunderstand me; I mean buy the copyright and the entire
edition, with the view of suppressing the work. It says some frightful
things, I assure you,” urged the author.
I lay back in my chair and fairly roared at this exceedingly feeble
attempt at black-mail.
“But,” persisted the lady, “suppose it says that your Museum and Grace
Church are all one, what then?”
“My dear madam,” I replied, “you may say what you please about me or
about my Museum; you may print a hundred thousand copies of a pamphlet
stating that I stole the communion service, after the wedding from Grace
Church altar, or anything else you choose to write; only have the
kindness to say something about me, and then come to me and I will
properly estimate the money value of your services to me as an
advertising agent. Good morning, madam,”--and she departed.