Struggles amd Triumphs: or, Forty Years' Recollections of P.T. Barnum

The generosity of my friends urged me to accept “benefits” by the score, the returns of which would have made me quite independent. There was a proposition among leading citizens in New York to give a series of benefits which I felt obliged to decline though the movement in my favor deeply touched me. To show the class of men who sympathized with me in my misfortunes and also the ground which I took in the matter I venture to copy the following correspondence which appeared in the New York papers of the day:

    New York, June 2, 1856.

Mr. P. T. Barnum:

Dear Sir, – The financial ruin of a man of acknowledged energy and enterprise is a public calamity. The sudden blow, therefore, that has swept away, from a man like yourself, the accumulated wealth of years, justifies we think, the public sympathy. The better to manifest our sincere respect for your liberal example in prosperity, as well as exhibit our honest admiration of your fortitude under overwhelming reverses, we propose to give that sympathy a tangible expression by soliciting your acceptance of a series of benefits for your family, the result of which may possibly secure for your wife and children a future home, or at least rescue them from the more immediate consequences of your misfortune.

Freeman Hunt, E. K. Collins, Isaac Y. Fowler, James Phalen, Cornelius Vanderbilt, F. B. Cuting, James W. Gerard, Simeon Draper, Thomas McElrath, Park Godwin, R. F. Carman, Gen. C. W. Sanford, Philo Hurd, President H. R. R.; Wm. Ellsworth, President Brooklyn Ins. Co.; George S. Doughty, President Excelsior Ins. Co.; Chas. T. Cromwell, Robert Stuyvesant, E. L. Livingston, R. Busteed, Wm. P. Fettridge, E. N. Haughwout, Geo. F. Nesbitt, Osborne, Boardman & Townsend, Charles H. Delavan, I. & C. Berrien, Fisher & Bird, Solomon & Hart, B. Young, M. D., Treadwell, Acker & Co., St. Nicholas Hotel, John Wheeler, Union Square Hotel, S. Leland & Co., Metropolitan Hotel, Albert Clark, Brevoort House, H. D. Clapp, Everett House, John Taylor, International Hotel, Sydney Hopman, Smithsonian Hotel, Messrs. Delmonico, Delmonico’s, Geo. W. Sherman, Florence’s Hotel, Kingsley & Ainslee, Howard Hotel, Libby & Whitney, Lovejoy’s Hotel, Howard & Brown, Tammany Hall, Jonas Bartlett, Washington Hotel, Patten & Lynde, Pacific Hotel, J. Johnson, Johnson’s Hotel, and over 1,000 others.

To this gratifying communication I replied as follows:

    Long Island, Tuesday, June 3, 1856.

Gentlemen, – I can hardly find words to express my gratitude for your very kind proposition. The popular sympathy is to me far more precious than gold, and that sympathy seems in my case to extend from my immediate neighbors, in Bridgeport, to all parts of our Union.

Proffers of pecuniary assistance have reached me from every quarter, not only from friends, but from entire strangers. Mr. Wm. E. Burton, Miss Laura Keene and Mr. Wm. Niblo have in the kindest manner tendered me the receipts of their theatres for one evening. Mr. Gough volunteered the proceeds of one of his attractive lectures; Mr. James Phalon generously offered me the free use of the Academy of Music; many professional ladies and gentlemen have urged me to accept their gratuitous services. I have, on principle, respectfully declined them all, as I beg, with the most grateful acknowledgments (at least for the present), to decline yours – not because a benefit, in itself, is an objectionable thing, but because I have ever made it a point to ask nothing of the public on personal grounds, and should prefer, while I can possibly avoid that contingency, to accept nothing from it without the honest conviction that I had individually given it in return a full equivalent.

While favored with health, I feel competent to earn an honest livelihood for myself and family. More than this I shall certainly never attempt with such a load of debt suspended in terrorem over me. While I earnestly, thank you, therefore, for your generous consideration, gentlemen, I trust you will appreciate my desire to live unhumiliated by a sense of dependence; and believe me, sincerely yours, P. T. Barnum.

To Messrs. Freeman Hunt, E. K. Collins, and others.

And with other offers of assistance from far and near, came the following from a little gentleman who did not forget his old friend and benefactor in the time of trial:

    Jones’ Hotel, Philadelphia, May 12, 1856.

My Dear Mr. Barnum, – I understand your friends, and that means “all creation,” intend to get up some benefits for your family. Now, my dear sir, just be good enough to remember that I belong to that mighty crowd, and I must have a finger (or at least a “thumb”) in that pie. I am bound to appear on all such occasions in some shape, from “Jack the Giant Killer,” up stairs, to the doorkeeper down, whichever may serve you best; and there are some feats that I can perform as well as any other man of my inches. I have just started out on my western tour, and have my carriage, ponies and assistants all here, but I am ready to go on to New York, bag and baggage, and remain at Mrs. Barnum’s service as long as I, in my small way, can be useful. Put me into any “heavy” work, if you like. Perhaps I cannot lift as much as some other folks, but just take your pencil in hand and you will see I can draw a tremendous load. I drew two hundred tons at a single pull to-day, embracing two thousand persons, whom I hauled up safely and satisfactorily to all parties, at one exhibition. Hoping that you will be able to fix up a lot of magnets that will attract all New York, and volunteering to sit on any part of the loadstone, I am, as ever, your little but sympathizing friend,

    Gen. Tom Thumb.

Even this generous offer from my little friend I felt compelled to refuse. But kind words were written and spoken which I could not prevent, nor did I desire to do so, and which were worth more to me than money. I should fail to find space, if I wished it, to copy one-tenth part of the cordial and kind articles and paragraphs that appeared about me in newspapers throughout the country. The following sentence from an editorial article in a prominent New York journal was the key-note to many similar kind notices in all parts of the Union: “It is a fact beyond dispute that Mr. Barnum’s financial difficulties have accumulated from the goodness of his nature; kind-hearted and generous to a fault, it has ever been his custom to lend a helping hand to the struggling; and honest industry and enterprise have found his friendship prompt and faithful.” The Boston Journal dwelt especially upon the use I had made of my money in my days of prosperity in assisting deserving laboring men and in giving an impulse to business in the town where I resided. It seems only just that I should make this very brief allusion to these things, if only as an offset to the unbounded abuse of those who believed in kicking me merely because I was down; nor can I refrain from copying the following from the Boston Saturday Evening Gazette, of May 3, 1856:

BARNUM REDIVIVUS

A WORD FOR BARNUM

Barnum, your hand! Though you are “down,”
And see full many a frigid shoulder,
Be brave, my brick, and though they frown,
Prove that misfortune makes you bolder.
There’s many a man that sneers, my hero,
And former praise converts to scorning,
Would worship – when he fears – a Nero,
And bend “where thrift may follow fawning.”

You humbugged us – that we have seen,
We got our money’s worth, old fellow,
And though you thought our minds were green,
We never thought your heart was yellow.
We knew you liberal, generous, warm,
Quick to assist a falling brother,
And, with such virtues, what’s the harm
All memories of your faults to smother?

We had not heard the peerless Lind,
But for your spirit enterprising,
You were the man to raise the wind,
And make a coup confessed surprising.
You’re reckoned in your native town
A friend in need, a friend in danger,
You ever keep the latchstring down,
And greet with open hand the stranger.

Stiffen your upper lip. You know
Who are your friends and who your foes now;
We pay for knowledge as we go;
And though you get some sturdy blows now,
You’ve a fair field, – no favors crave, —
The storm once passed will find you braver, —
In virtue’s cause long may you wave,
And on the right side, never waver.

Desirous of knowing who was the author of this kindly effusion, I wrote, while preparing this autobiography, to Mr. B. P. Shillaber, one of the editors of the journal, and well known to the public as “Mrs. Partington.” In reply, I received the following letter in which it will be seen that he makes sympathetic allusion to the burning of my last Museum, only a few weeks before the date of his letter:

    Chelsea, April 25, 1868.

My Dear Mr. Barnum: – The poem in question was written by A. Wallace Thaxter, associate editor with Mr. Clapp and myself, on the Gazette– since deceased, a glorious fellow – who wrote the poem from a sincere feeling of admiration for yourself. Mr. Clapp, (Hon. W. W. Clapp,) published it with his full approbation. I heard of your new trouble, in my sick chamber, where I have been all winter, with regret, and wish you as ready a release from attending difficulty as your genius has hitherto achieved under like circumstances.

    Yours, very truly,
    B. P. Shillaber.

But the manifestations of sympathy which came to me from Bridgeport, where my home had been for more than ten years, were the most gratifying of all, because they showed unmistakably that my best friends, those who were most constant in their friendship and most emphatic in their esteem, were my neighbors and associates who, of all people, knew me best. With such support I could easily endure the attacks of traducers elsewhere. The New York Times, April 25, 1856, under the head of “Sympathy for Barnum,” published a full report of the meeting of my fellow-citizens of Bridgeport, the previous evening, to take my case into consideration.

In response to a call headed by the mayor of the city, and signed by several hundred citizens, this meeting was held in Washington Hall “for the purpose of sympathizing with P. T. Barnum, Esq., in his recent pecuniary embarrassments, and of giving some public expression to their views in reference to his financial misfortunes.” It was the largest public meeting which, up to that time, had ever been held in Bridgeport. Several prominent citizens made addresses, and resolutions were adopted declaring “that respect and sympathy were due to P. T. Barnum in return for his many acts of liberality, philanthropy and public spirit,” expressing unshaken confidence in his integrity, admiration for the “fortitude and composure with which he has met reverses into which he has been dragged through no fault of his own except a too generous confidence in pretended friends,” and hoping that he would “yet return to that wealth which he has so nobly employed, and to the community he has so signally benefited.” During the evening the following letter was read:

    New York, Thursday, April 24, 1856.

Wm. H. Noble, Esq.,

Dear Sir: – I have just received a slip containing a call for a public meeting of the citizens of Bridgeport to sympathize with me in my troubles. It is headed by His Honor the Mayor, and is signed by most of your prominent citizens, as well as by many men who by hard labor earn their daily bread, and who appreciate a calamity which at a single blow strips a man of his fortune, his dear home, and all the worldly comforts which years of diligent labor had acquired. It is due to truth to say that I knew nothing of this movement until your letter informed me of it.

In misfortune the true sympathy of neighbors is more consoling and precious than anything which money can purchase. This voluntary offering of my fellow-citizens, though it thrills me with painful emotions and causes tears of gratitude, yet imparts to me renewed strength and fills my heart with thankfulness to Providence for raising up to my sight, above all this wreck, kind hearts which soar above the sordid atmosphere of “dirty dollars.” I can never forget this unexpected kindness from my old friends and neighbors.

I trust I am not blind to my many faults and shortcomings. I, however, do feel great consolation in believing that I never used money or position to oppress the poor or wrong my fellow-men, and that I never turned empty away those whom I had the power to assist.

My poor sick wife, who needs the bracing air which our own dear home (made beautiful by her willing hands) would now have afforded her, is driven by the orders of her physician to a secluded spot on Long Island where the sea-wind lends its healthful influence, and where I have also retired for the double purpose of consoling her and of recruiting my own constitution, which, through the excitements of the last few months, has most seriously failed me.

In our quiet and humble retreat, that which I most sincerely pray for is tranquillity and contentment. I am sure that the remembrance of the kindness of my Bridgeport neighbors will aid me in securing these cherished blessings. No man who has not passed through similar scenes can fully comprehend the misery which has been crowded into the last few months of my life; but I have endeavored to preserve my integrity, and I humbly hope and believe that I am being taught humility and reliance upon Providence, which will yet afford a thousand times more peace and true happiness than can be acquired in the din, strife and turmoil, excitements and struggles of this money-worshipping age. The man who coins his brain and blood into gold, who wastes all of his time and thought upon the almighty dollar, who looks no higher than blocks of houses, and tracts of land, and whose iron chest is crammed with stocks and mortgages tied up with his own heart-strings, may console himself with the idea of safe investments, but he misses a pleasure which I firmly believe this lesson was intended to secure to me, and which it will secure if I can fully bring my mind to realize its wisdom. I think I hear you say —

“When the devil was sick,