After tea Lavinia and the General sat down to play backgammon. By and by the rest went to their separate rooms, but Tom Thumb had volunteered to sit up for the Commodore, and persuaded Miss Warren to keep him company.
The General was beaten at backgammon, and after sitting a few minutes, he evidently thought it time to put a clincher on his financial abilities. So he drew from his pocket a policy of insurance and handed it to Lavinia, asking 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 traveling," said Lavinia, with a slightly mischievous look from one corner of her eye.
"That depends upon my company while traveling," 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?"
And after a little hesitation she agreed that it would.
A moment later a carriage drove up to the door, the bell rang and the 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."
"Where is Mr. Barnum?" asked the Commodore.
"He has gone to bed," answered Tom Thumb, "but a supper has been prepared for you."
"I am not hungry, thank you," said the Commodore petulantly, "What room does Mr. Barnum sleep in?"
He was answered, and immediately went to Mr. Barnum whom he found reading in bed.
"Mr. Barnum," he said sarcastically, "does Tom Thumb BOARD here?"
"No," said Mr. Barnum, "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. Only I thought he'd taken up his residence here." And off he went to bed, in a very bad humor.
Ten minutes after, Tom Thumb rushed into the room in the greatest excitement, and cried joyfully: "We're engaged, Mr. Barnum! We're engaged!"
"Is that possible?" said Barnum.
"Yes sir, indeed it is," responded the General, "but you must'nt mention it. We've agreed to tell no one, so don't say a word. I'm going to ask her Mother's consent Tuesday."
Barnum swore secrecy, and the General went off radiant with happiness.
The next day the family plied Lavinia with all sorts of questions, but not a breath passed her lips that would give the slightest indication as to what had transpired. She was most amiable to the Commodore, and as the General concluded to go home the next morning, the Commodore's happiness and good humor were fully restored. The General made a call Sunday evening and managed to have an interview with Lavinia. The next morning she and the Commodore returned to New York, without Mr. Barnum.
The General called on Monday to tell Mr. Barnum that he had concluded to send his letter to Lavinia's mother by his friend, Mr. Wells, who had consented to go to Middleboro' the next day, and to urge the General's suit if necessary.
The General went to New York on Wednesday to wait there for Mr. Wells's return. That same day he and Lavinia came to Mr. Barnum, and Tom Thumb said: "Mr. Barnum, I want somebody to tell the Commodore that Lavinia and I are engaged, for I'm afraid there will be a row when he hears of it."
"Why don't you do it yourself, General?" asked Barnum.
"Oh!" said the General, almost shuddering, "I would not dare do it, he might knock me down."
"I will do it myself," said Lavinia. So the General retired and the Commodore was sent for. When he had joined them, Mr. Barnum began by saying, "Commodore, do you know what this little witch has been doing?"
"No, I don't," he answered.
"Well, she has been cutting up the greatest prank you ever heard of. She almost deserves to be shut up for daring to do it. Can't you guess what it is?"
He mused a moment, and then said in a low tone, and looking full at her, "Engaged?"
"Yes," said Barnum, "actually engaged to be married to General Tom Thumb. Did you ever hear of such a thing?"
"Is it so, Lavinia?" he asked, earnestly.
"Yes," said Lavinia, "it is really so."
The Commodore turned pale, choked a little, and turning on his heel, he said, in a broken voice:
"I hope you may be happy."
As he passed out the door a tear rolled down his cheek. "That's pretty hard," said Barnum.
"Yes it is hard," said Lavinia, "and I am very sorry. Only I couldn't help it. It was all the fault of your emerald and diamond ring."
Half an hour later the Commodore returned to the office and said:
"Mr. Barnum do you think it would be right for Miss Warren to marry Charlie Stratton if her mother should object?"
"No, indeed," replied Mr. Barnum.
"Well, she says she will marry him anyway; that she gives her mother the chance to consent, but if she objects, sh
e will have her way and marry him."
"On the contrary," said Barnum, "I will not permit it. She is engaged to go to Europe with me, and I will not release her if her mother does not consent to her marriage."
The Commodore's eyes glistened, and he said: "Between you and me, Mr. Barnum, I don't believe she will consent."
But she did, although at first she had objected, thinking that it might be merely a money-making scheme; but after she read Tom Thumb's letter, and heard Mr. Barnum's assurance that he would release her from her engagement with him, in event of the marriage, she consented.
After the Commodore heard the news Mr. Barnum said to him:
"Never mind, Commodore; Minnie Warren is a better match for you anyhow. She is two years younger than you, and Lavinia is older."
But the Commodore replied grandly; "Thank you sir, but I would not marry the best woman living. I don't believe in women."
Barnum then suggested that he stand with Minnie, as groom and bridesmaid, but he declined. A few weeks later, however, he told Barnum that Tom Thumb had asked him to stand with Minnie, and that he was going to do so.
"And when I asked you, you refused," said Barnum.
"It was not your business to ask me," said the Commodore pompously, "when the proper person asked me, I accepted."
The approaching wedding was announced and created an immense excitement. Lavinia's levees were crowded and she not infrequently sold three hundred dollars' worth of photographs in a day. The General was engaged to exhibit and his own photograph was largely in demand. The Museum was so well attended, the daily receipts being nearly three thousand dollars, that Barnum offered them fifteen thousand dollars if they would postpone their wedding for a month and continue the levees.
"No sir," said the General excitedly, "not for fifty thousand dollars."
"Good for you Charlie," said Lavinia, "only you should have said one hundred thousand."
It was suggested to Barnum to have the wedding take place in the Academy of Music and charge a good admission.
But Barnum refused.
Grace Church, at Broadway and Tenth St., was the scene of this historic wedding, which occurred at noon of Tuesday, Feb. 10, 1863. Long before the hour designated the entire neighborhood was thronged by expectant and smiling crowds awaiting the arrival of the happy pair with their attendants, and looking with ill-concealed envy upon the scores of carriages that bore to the scene of action the fortunate possessors of cards of invitation. At the entrance the ubiquitous Brown was to be seen, bland and smiling, looking more like an honest Alderman of yore than a sexton, and recognizing in each new deposit of youth or beauty or wealth another star to shed lustre upon the extraordinary occasion.
Excellent police arrangements, no less than the self-respect and decorum that always characterizes an American crowd, secured the utmost quiet and order. The truth was that an outsider could only have discovered the marriage to have been one of peculiar interest from the snatches of feminine gossip that met the ear, in which small-sized adjectives were profusely employed.
The church was crowded with a gay assemblage of ladies and gentlemen, the former appearing in full opera costume, and the latter in dress coats and white neck-cloths. In front of the altar a platform three feet high covered with Brussels carpet had been erected. Pending the arrival of the wedding cortege, Mr. Morgan performed a number of operatic selections on the organ.
At high noon the murmuring of the swarming throng outside and the turning of all heads townward presaged the arrival of the bridal party; its undoubted arrival was announced by the arrival of Barnum himself.
The bridal party quickly entered the church, and proceeding up the middle aisle, took proper positions upon the platform. Commodore Nutt acting as groomsman, and Miss Minnie Warren as bridesmaid.
After several operatic performances on the organ, the marriage services were commenced, the Rev. Dr. Taylor and the Rev. Junius M. Willey officiating. The petite bride was given away by the Rev. Mr. Palmer, at the request of her parents. Dr. Taylor pronounced the marital benediction, when the party left the church and were rapidly driven to the Metropolitan Hotel, the street, stoops, buildings and windows in the neighborhood of which were crowded with men, women and children.
At 1 o'clock the reception commenced, the bride and groom, attended by the Commodore and Miss Minnie Warren, occupying a dais in one of the front parlors. The crowd soon resolved into a perfect jam, and for some time great confusion prevailed. After a time, certain arrangements were made by which the company were enabled to pay their respects to the little couple.
The graceful form of Mrs. Charles S. Stratton was shown to advantage in her bridal robe, which was composed of plain white satin, the skirt en traine, being decorated with a flounce of costly point lace, headed by tulle puffings; the berthe to match. Her hair, slightly waved, was rolled a la Eugenie, and elaborately puffed in noeuds behind, in which the bridal veil was looped: natural orange blossoms breathed their perfume above her brow, and mingled their fragrance with the soft sighs of her gentle bosom. Roses and japonicas composed a star-shaped bouquet, which she held in her just-bestowed hand.
Her jewels consisted of diamond necklace, bracelets, earrings, and a star-shaped ornament en diadem, with brooch to match.
Mr. Stratton was attired in a black dress coat and a vest of white corded silk, with an undervest of blue silk.
The Commodore was similarly attired, and Miss Minnie Warren appeared in a white silk skirt, with a white illusion overdress, trimmed half way up the skirt with bouillonnes of the same material, dotted with pink rosebuds. The corsage was decollete, with berthe to match.
At 3 o'clock the bridal party left the reception room, and retired to their private parlor, when the company soon after dispersed. Upon leaving the hotel the guests were supplied with wedding cake, over two thousand boxes being thus distributed. In a parlor adjoining that used for the reception were exhibited the bridal presents.
The jewelry and silverware were displayed in glass cases.
That night, at 10 o'clock, the New York Excelsior Band serenaded the bridal party at the Metropolitan, when Mr. Stratton appeared upon the balcony and made the following speech to the large assemblage in front of the hotel:
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN--I thank you most sincerely for this and many other tokens of kindness showered upon me to-day. After being for more than twenty years before the public, I little expected at this late day, to attract so much attention. Indeed if I had not become a family man I should never have known how high I stood in public favor, and I assure you I appreciate highly and am truly grateful for this evidence of your esteem and consideration. I am soon off for foreign lands, but I shall take with me the pleasant recollection of your kindness to-day. But, ladies and gentlemen, a little woman in the adjoining apartment is very anxious to see us, and I must, therefore, make this speech, like myself, short. I kindly thank the excellent band of music for its melody, the sweetness of which is only exceeded by my anticipations of happiness in the new life before me. And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, wishing you all health and happiness, I bid you all a cordial good-night." [Applause.]
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, 18
63. 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 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 clergyman 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.
Life of Hon. Phineas T. Barnum Page 31