P.T. Barnum - The Life of P.T. Barnum

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HarperCollins is proud to present its incredible range of best-loved, essential classics.Meet the greatest entertainer of the 19th Century…In 1834, desperate to create a better life for his family, small-time Connecticut businessman P. T. Barnum moved to New York City. With true entrepreneurial spirit and against all odds, he wowed audiences with his ensemble of musical spectacles, attractions and variety shows – often exploiting the vulnerable for entertainment value. A master showman, his crowning achievement was the world-famous circus, Barnum & Bailey’s Greatest Show on Earth.In this account of his life and work, written by the man himself and first published in 1855, P. T. Barnum creates an aura of excitement about himself and his enduring fame, confirming his reputation as the greatest impresario of all time and revealing the controversial decisions that helped him to his fortune.

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Uncle Reese placed the imposition unsuspectingly into his snuff-box, and went on his way. He was just starting for Norwalk for a load of clams. Before he returned the next day, my grandfather had acquainted nearly all the town with the joke, in every case enjoining secresy. That caution was hardly necessary, for if there was ever a town where the inhabitants universally enjoyed a practical joke, that town was Danbury.

As Uncle Reese passed through Bethel and Danbury the next day, nearly every man, woman and child begged a pinch of snuff, and they all asked, as a particular favor, that it might be taken immediately under the bean, so as to secure some of the extra fragrance. The snuff-box was replenished several times that day. Many persons inquired of him what the properties of the bean were, where it came from, etc. He informed them that it grew on a tree in the East Indies, that it always imparted a peculiar and delightful flavor, and in fact that no snuff was fit for the human nose until it had been properly scented by the bean.

After the illusion had been kept up several days, my grandfather invited some twenty friends to dine with him the following week. “Uncle Reese” was one of the number, for the grand dénouement was appointed for that occasion. The fates were however against him. The victim came into our store to replenish his snuff-box. Dr. Orris Tyler Taylor, a most eccentric individual, (son of Uncle Samuel Taylor,) was present. He asked permission to examine the bean. Uncle Reese assured him it grew on a tree in the East Indies. The doctor run his knife through it, and the piece of pine wood, white as snow, was laid open to view.

“Uncle Reese” was astonished beyond measure. A roar of laughter which followed from all present, convinced him that there was a trick, and that all were in the secret. After a moment’s reflection, he exclaimed, “That old sinner, Phin Taylor, did that!”

My grandfather was never forgiven to the day of his death. He also was sorely chagrined that he could not have been present when the joke was disclosed. He blamed the doctor very much for the premature exposure, and declared he would rather have lost the best cow he owned, than to have had the secret divulged before the day of his dinner-party. I have no doubt he spoke the truth.

My father was brought to his bed with a severe attack of fever in March, and departed this life, I trust for a better world, on the 7th of September, 1825, aged 48 years.

I was then fifteen years of age. I stood by his bedside. The world looked dark indeed, when I realized that I was for ever deprived of my paternal protector! I felt that I was a poor inexperienced boy, thrown out on the wide world to shift for myself, and a sense of forlornness completely overcame me. My mother was left with five children. I was the oldest, and the youngest was only seven years of age. We followed the remains of husband and parent to their resting-place, and returned to our desolate home, feeling that we were forsaken by the world, and that but little hope existed for us this side the grave.

Administrators to the estate were appointed, and the fact was soon apparent that my father had not succeeded in providing any of this world’s goods for the support of his family. The estate was declared insolvent , and it did not pay fifty cents upon a dollar. My mother, like many widows before her, was driven to many straits to support her little family, but being industrious, economical and persevering, she succeeded in a few years in redeeming the homestead and becoming its sole possessor. The few dollars which I had accumulated, I had loaned to my father, and held his note therefor, but it was decided that the property of a minor belonged to the father, and my claim was ruled out. I was subsequently compelled to earn as clerk in a store the money to pay for the pair of shoes that were purchased for me to wear at my father’s funeral. I can truly say, therefore, that I began the world with nothing, and was barefooted at that.

I remained with Mr. Weed as clerk but a little longer, and then removed to “Grassy Plain,” a mile north-west of the village of Bethel, where I engaged with James S. Keeler and Lewis Whitlock, as clerk in their store, at six dollars per month and my board – my mother doing my washing. I soon entered into speculations on my own account, and by dint of economy succeeded in getting a little sum of money ahead. I boarded with Mrs. Jerusha Wheeler and her daughters, Jerusha and Mary. As nearly everybody had a nick-name, the two former ladies were called “Rushia” – the old lady being designated “Aunt Rushia.” They were an exceedingly nice and worthy family, and made me an excellent home. I chose my uncle Alanson Taylor as my “guardian,” and was guided by his counsel. I was extremely active as a clerk, was considered a ’cute trader, and soon gained the confidence and esteem of my employers. I remember with gratitude that they allowed me many facilities for earning money.

On one occasion a peddler called at our store with a large wagon filled with common green glass bottles of various sizes, holding from half a pint to a gallon. My employers were both absent, and I bantered him to trade his whole load of bottles in exchange for goods. Thinking me a greenhorn, he accepted my proposition, and I managed to pay him off in unsaleable goods at exorbitant prices. Soon after he departed, Mr. Keeler returned and found his little store half filled with bottles!

“What under heavens have you been doing?” said he in surprise.

“I have been trading goods for bottles;” said I.

“You have made a fool of yourself,” he exclaimed, “for you have bottles enough to supply the whole town for twenty years.”

I begged him not to be alarmed, and promised to get rid of the entire lot within three months.

“If you can do that,” said he, “you can perform a miracle.”

I then showed him the list of goods which I had exchanged for the bottles, with the extra prices annexed, and he found upon figuring that I had bartered a lot of worthless trash at a rate which brought the new merchandise to considerably less than one-half the wholesale price. He was pleased with the result, but wondered what could be done with the bottles. We stowed away the largest portion of them in the loft of our store.

My employers kept what was called a barter store. Many of the hat manufacturers traded there and paid us in hats, giving “store orders” to their numerous employees, including journeymen, apprentices, female hat trimmers, etc., etc. Of course we had a large number of customers, and I knew them all intimately.

I may say that when I made the bottle trade I had a project in my head for selling them all, as well as getting rid of a large quantity of tinware which had been in the store for some years, and had become begrimed with dirt and fly-specks. That project was a lottery . On the first wet day, therefore, when there were but few customers, I spent several hours in making up my scheme. The highest prize was $25, payable in any kind of goods the customer desired. Then I had fifty prizes of $5 each, designating in my scheme what goods each prize should consist of. For instance, one $5 prize consisted of one pair cotton hose, one cotton handkerchief, two tin cups, four pint glass bottles, three tin skimmers, one quart glass bottle, six tin nutmeg graters, eleven half-pint glass bottles, etc., etc. – the glass and tinware always forming the greater portion of each prize. I had one hundred prizes of one dollar each, one hundred prizes of fifty cents each, and three hundred prizes of twenty-five cents each. There were one thousand tickets at fifty cents each. The prizes amounted to the same as the tickets – $500. I had taken an idea from the church lottery, in which my grandfather was manager, and had many prizes of only half the cost of the tickets. I headed the scheme with glaring capitals, written in my best hand, setting forth that it was a “MAGNIFICENT LOTTERY!” “$25 FOR ONLY 50 CTS.!!” “OVER 550 PRIZES!!!” “ONLY 1000 TICKETS!!!!” “GOODS PUT IN AT THE LOWEST CASH PRICES!!!!!” etc., etc., etc.

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