For many years Barnum had been in the habit of engaging parties of American Indians from the far West to exhibit at the Museum. He had also sent several parties of them to Europe, where they were regarded as extraordinary curiosities.
In 1864 ten or twelve chiefs, of as many different tribes, visited the President of the United States, at Washington. By a pretty liberal outlay of money, Barnum succeeded in inducing the interpreter to bring them to New York, and to pass some days at the Museum. Of course, getting these Indians to dance, or to give any illustration of their games or pastimes, was out of the question. They were real chiefs of powerful tribes, and would no more have consented to give an exhibition of themselves than the chief magistrate of our own nation would have done. Their interpreter could not therefore promise that they would remain at the Museum for any definite time; "for," said he, "you can only keep them just so long as they suppose all your patrons come to pay them visits of honor. If they suspected that your Museum was a place where people paid for entering," he continued, "you could not keep them a moment after the discovery."
On their arrival at the Museum, therefore, Barnum took them upon the stage and personally introduced them to the public. The Indians liked this attention from him, as they had been informed that he was the proprietor of the great establishment in which they were invited and honored guests. His patrons were of course pleased to see these old chiefs, as they knew they were the "REAL thing," and several of them were known to the public, either as being friendly or cruel to the whites. After one or two appearances on the stage, Barnum took them in carriages and visited the Mayor of New York in the Governor's room at the City Hall. Here the Mayor made them a speech of welcome, which, being interpreted to the savages, was responded to by a speech from one of the chiefs, in which he thanked the "Great Father" of the city for his pleasant words, and for his kindness in pointing out the portraits of his predecessors hanging on the walls of the Governor's room.
On another occasion Barnum took them by special invitation to visit one of the large public schools up town. The teachers were pleased to see them, and arranged an exhibition of special exercises by the scholars, which they thought would be most likely to gratify their barbaric visitors. At the close of these exercises, one old chief arose, and simply said: "This is all new to us. We are mere unlearned sons of the forest, and cannot understand what we have seen and heard."
On other occasions he took them to ride in Central Park, and through different portions of the city. At every street-corner which they passed they would express their astonishment to each other, at seeing the long rows of houses which extended both ways on either side of each cross-street. Of course, after each of these outside visits Barnum would return with them to the Museum, and secure two or three appearances upon the stage to receive the people who had there congregated "to do them honor."
As they regarded him as their host, they did not hesitate to trespass upon his hospitality. Whenever their eyes rested upon a glittering shell among his specimens of conchology, especially if it had several brilliant colors, one would take off his coat, another his shirt, and insist that he should exchange the shell for the garment. When he declined the exchange, but on the contrary presented the coveted article, he soon found he had established a dangerous precedent. Immediately they all commenced to beg for everything in the vast collection which they happened to take a liking to. This cost Barnum many valuable specimens, and often "put him to his trumps" for an excuse to avoid giving them things which he could not part with.
The chief of one of the tribes one day discovered an ancient shirt of chain-mail which hung in one of the cases of antique armor. He was delighted with it, and declared he must have it. Barnum tried all sorts of excuses to prevent his getting it, for it had cost a hundred dollars, and was a great curiosity. But the old man's eyes glistened, and he would not take "no" for an answer. "The Utes have killed my little child," he said through the interpreter; and now he must have this steel shirt to protect himself; and when he returned to the Rocky Mountains he would have his revenge. Barnum remained inexorable until the chief finally brought a new buckskin Indian suit, which he insisted upon exchanging. Barnum then felt compelled to accept his proposal; and never did anyone see a man more delighted than the Indian seemed to be when he took the mailed shirt into his hands. He fairly jumped up and down with joy. He ran to his lodging-room, and soon appeared again with the coveted armor upon his body, and marched down one of the main halls of the Museum, with folded arms, and head erect, occasionally patting his breast with his right hand, as much as to say, "Now, Mr. Ute, look sharp, for I will soon be on the war-path!"
Among these Indians were War Bonnet, Lean Bear, and Hand-in-the-water, chiefs of the Cheyennes; Yellow Buffalo, of the Kiowas; Yellow Bear, of the same tribe; Jacob, of the Caddos; and White Bull, of the Apaches. The little wiry chief known as Yellow Bear had killed many whites as they had travelled through the "far West." He was a sly, treacherous, bloodthirsty savage, who would think no more of scalping a family of women and children than a butcher would of wringing the neck of a chicken. But now he was on a mission to the "Great Father" at Washington, seeking for presents and favors for his tribe, and he pretended to be exceedingly meek and humble, and continually urged the interpreter to announce him as a "great friend to the white man." He would fawn about Barnum, and although not speaking or understanding a word of our language, would try to convince him that he loved him dearly.
In exhibiting these Indian warriors on the stage, Barnum explained to the large audiences the names and characteristics of each. When he came to Yellow Bear he would pat him familiarly upon the shoulder, which always caused him to look up with a pleasant smile, while he softly stroked Barnum's arm with his right hand in the most loving manner. Knowing that he could not understand a word he said, Barnum pretended to be complimenting him to the audience, while he was really saying something like the following:
"This little Indian, ladies and gentlemen, is Yellow Bear, chief of the Kiowas. He has killed, no doubt, scores of white persons, and he is probably the meanest black-hearted rascal that lives in the far West." Here Barnum patted him on the head, and he, supposing he was sounding his praises, would smile, fawn upon him, and stroke his arm, while he continued: "If the bloodthirsty little villain understood what I was saying, he would kill me in a moment; but as he thinks I am complimenting him, I can safely state the truth to you, that he is a lying, thieving, treacherous, murderous monster. He has tortured to death poor, unprotected women, murdered their husbands, brained their helpless little ones; and he would gladly do the same to you or to me, if he thought he could escape punishment. This is but a faint description of the character of Yellow Bear." Here Barnum gave him another patronizing pat on the head, and he, with a pleasant smile, bowed to the audience, as much as to say that the words were quite true, and that he thanked Barnum very much for the high encomiums he had so generously heaped upon him.
After the Indians had been at the Museum about week they discovered the real character of the place. They found they were simply on exhibition, and that people paid a fee for the privilege of coming in and gazing at them. Forthwith there was an outcry of discontent and anger. Nothing would induce them again to appear upon the stage. Their dignity had been irretrievably offended, and Barnum was actually fearful lest they should wreak vengeance upon him with physical violence. It was with a feeling of great relief that he witnessed their departure for Washington the next day.
In the fall of this year Barnum produced at his Museum a dramatization of Dickens's "Great Expectations." On the opening night of the play, before the curtain rose, the great showman himself went upon the stage and made this poetical address of welcome to the audience:
LADIES AND GENTLEMEN:
"That Prince of Humbugs, Barnum," so it appears Some folks have designated me for several years. Well, I don't murmur; indeed, when they embellish it, To tell the truth, my friends, I rather relish it, Since your true humbug's be, wh
o as a host, For the least money entertains you most. In this sense I'm a "humbug," I succumb! Who as a "General" thing brought out Tom Thumb? Who introduced (you can't say there I sinned) The Swedish Nightingale, sweet Jenny Lind? Who brought you Living Whales from Labrador? The Hippopotamus from Nilus's shore, The Bearded Lady with her (h)airs and graces, The Aztec Children with their normal faces, The Twins of Siam--rarest of dualities-- Two ever separate, ne'er apart realities? The Family of Albinos? the Giraffe? The famous Baby Show that made you laugh? The Happy Family--cats, rats, doves, hawks, harmonious? Their voices blend in tones euphonious. The great Sea Lion from Pacific's coast, The "Monarch of the Ocean," no empty boast; Old Adam's Bears, cutest of brute performers, In modern "peace meetings" models for reformers. That living miracle, the Lightning Calculator, Those figures confound Hermann the "Prestidigitator." The Grand Aquaria, an official story Of life beneath the waves ill all its glory; The curious "What is It?" which you, though spunky, Won't call a man and cannot call a monkey. These things and many more time forbids to state, I first introduced, if I did not originate; "The World's Seven Wonders," pooh! let them invite you, Here "seven" saloons all wonder-full delight you. To call this "humbug" admits of no defence, For all is shown for five and twenty cents. And now, good friends, to use less rhyme than reason, To-day re-opens our dramatic season; Therefore I welcome you! And though we're certain To raise "Great Expectations" with the curtain, And "play the Dickens" afternoon and nightly, I bid you welcome none the less politely, To these my "quarters," merry and reliable, That yours are always welcome 'tis undeniable! And Patrick Henry like I say, I boast of it, If that be "humbug," gentlemen, "make the most of it."
The foregoing address may be correctly said to have as much truth as poetry. It is a graceful summary of the curiosities which Barnum had brought before the world up to his sixtieth year. It does not include the Sacred White Elephant of Siam, the mammoth Jumbo and other wonders of nature which he was yet to reveal to astonished and delighted millions. Nor does it indicate that grand genius of aggregation by which in later years he surpassed all his previous performances--masterly as they were. Not till the veteran had reached the age of seventy--the allotted span of life--did he gather and create "The Greatest Show on Earth."
In connection with the dramatization of Dickens' novel, it seems surprising that the Great Showman had little intercourse with the Great Novelist. He was on intimate terms with Thackeray and gave him useful hints for his lecturing tour in the United States, by which the humorist duly profited. But Dickens, who reached the popular heart as Barnum did their senses, seems to have held aloof from one whose knowledge of men rivalled his own.
CHAPTER XXXV. GENERAL AND MRS. TOM THUMB.
MISS LAVINIA WARREN--THE RIVALS--MISS WARREN'S ENGAGEMENT TO TOM THUMB--THE WEDDING--GRAND RECEPTION--LETTER FROM A WOULD-BE GUEST, AND DR. TAYLOR'S REPLY.
In 1862 Mr. Barnum heard of an extraordinary dwarf girl named Lavinia Warren, who was living at Middleboro, Massachusetts, and sent an invitation to her and her parents to visit him at Bridgeport: they came, and Barnum found her to be a very intelligent and refined young lady. He immediately made a contract with her for several years, she agreeing to visit the Old World.
He purchased a splendid wardrobe for her, including many elegant dresses, costly jewels and everything else that could add to her naturally charming person. She was placed on exhibition at the Museum, and from the first was a great success. Commodore Nutt was exhibited with her, and although he was several years her junior, he at once took a violent fancy to her. One day Mr. Barnum gave Miss Warren a diamond and emerald ring, and as it did not exactly fit her finger, he offered to get her another one just like it, and told her to present this one to Commodore Nutt in her own name. She did so, and the Commodore, who possessed a full proportion of masculine vanity, construed the gift to be a love token, and poor Lavinia was much distressed, for she considered herself quite a woman, and the Commodore only "a nice boy." Still she did not like to offend him, and continued to treat him kindly, while not actually encouraging his attentions.
At the time Tom Thumb was not on exhibition at the Museum; he was taking a vacation at his home in Bridgeport. One day he came to New York quite unexpectedly, and naturally called on Mr. Barnum at the Museum. Lavinia was holding one of her levees when he came in, and he was presented to her.
After a short interview with her he went directly to Mr. Barnum's private office and asked to see him alone. The door was closed and the General sat down. His first question gave Mr. Barnum a slight inkling of the object of the interview. The General wanted to know all about the family of Lavinia Warren. Mr. Barnum gave him all information, and the General said, earnestly, "That is the most charming little lady I ever saw, and I believe she was created to be my wife. Now, Mr. Barnum, you've always been a friend of mine, and I want you to say a good word for me to her. I've got plenty of money and I want to marry and settle down, and I really feel as though I must marry that young lady."
Mr. Barnum laughed, and recalling his ancient joke, said: "Lavinia is already engaged, General."
"To whom? Commodore Nutt?" asked Tom Thumb, jealously.
"No, to me."
"Oh!" laughed the General, much relieved. "Never mind; you may exhibit her for a while, and then give up the engagement; but I do hope you will favor my suit with her."
"Well, General," replied Barnum, "I will not oppose your suit, but you must do your own courting. I will tell you, however, that Commodore Nutt 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 succeed in winning her."
The General promised to be very discreet. A change now came over him. He had been very fond of his country home at Bridgeport, where he spent all his leisure time with his horses and his yacht, for he had a great passion for the water; but now he was constantly running down to the city, and the horses and yacht were sadly neglected. He had a married sister living in New York, and his visits to her multiplied to such an extent that his mother, who lived 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 frequent, and it was very amusing to watch his new relations with Commodore Nutt, who strutted around like a bantam rooster whenever the General approached Lavinia. One day the rivals got into a friendly scuffle in the dressing-room, and the Commodore laid the General very neatly on his back.
But while the Commodore was performing on the stage, and on Sunday afternoons and evenings, the General found plenty of opportunities to talk to Lavinia, and it was evident that his suit was progressing.
Finally, Tom Thumb returned to Bridgeport, and privately begged Mr. Barnum to bring Lavinia up the next Saturday evening, and also to invite him to the house.
His immediate object was that his mother might see Miss Warren. Mr. Barnum agreed to the proposition, and on the following Friday, while Miss Warren and the Commodore were sitting in the green-room, he said:
"Lavinia, would you like to go up to Bridgeport with me to-morrow, and stay until Monday?"
"I thank you," she replied, "it will be a great relief to get into the country for a couple of days."
"Mr. Barnum," said the Commodore, "I should like to go up to Bridgeport to-morrow."
"What for?" asked Barnum.
"I want to see my ponies; I have not seen them for several months;" he replied.
Mr. Barnum remarked that he was afraid he could not spare the Commodore from the Museum, but he said:
"Oh! I can perform at half past seven o'clock and then jump on the evening train and go up by myself, reaching Bridgeport at eleven, and return early Monday morning."
Fearing a clash of interests between the two little men, but wishing to please the Commodore, Mr. Barnum consented, especially as Miss Warren seemed to favor it.
The Commodore had made his feelings almost as plain to the manager as had General Tom Thumb, but Lavinia War
ren's secret was her own. She kept up a wonderful self-possession under the circumstances, for she must have known the reason of the General's frequent visits to the Museum. Barnum was afraid that she intended to reject Tom Thumb, and he told him as much; the General was nervous but determined; hence his anxiety to have Lavinia meet his mother, and also to see the extent of his possessions in Bridgeport.
The General met his lady-love and Mr. Barnum at the station Saturday morning, and drove them to the latter's house in his own carriage--the coachman being tidily dressed, with a broad velvet ribbon and a silver buckle on his hat, especially for the occasion.
After resting for a half hour at Lindencroft, he came back and took Lavinia out to drive. They stopped at his mother's house, where she saw the apartments which had been built for him and filled with the most gorgeous furniture, all corresponding to his diminutive size. Then he took her to East Bridgeport, and undoubtedly took occasion to point out all of the houses which he owned, for he depended much on his wealth making an impression on her.
He stayed to lunch at Lindencroft, and was much pleased when Lavinia expressed her opinion that "Mr. Barnum or Tom Thumb owned about all Bridgeport."
The General took his leave and returned to five o'clock dinner, accompanied by his mother, who was delighted with Lavinia. The General took Mr. Barnum aside and begged him for an invitation to stay all night, "For," said he, "I intend to ask her to marry me before the Commodore arrives."
Life of Hon. Phineas T. Barnum Page 30