The Life of P.T. Barnum

“To be sure it will if he is seriously injured,” replied my father; “but where is he?”

“He is DEAD!” said Beers, as he nerved himself up for the announcement, and then closing his eyes, sank into a chair completely overcome with fright.

My father groaned in a way that started Nelson to his feet again. All the sensations of horror, intense agony, and despair were depicted to the life on my father’s countenance.

“Oh, Uncle Phile, Uncle Phile, don’t be too hard with me; I wouldn’t have had it happen for all the world,” said Beers.

“You can never recompense me for that horse,” replied my father.

“I know it, I know it, Uncle Phile; I can only work for you as long as I live, but you shall have my services till you are satisfied after my apprenticeship is finished,” returned Beers.

After a short time my father became more calm, and although apparently not reconciled to his loss, he asked Nelson how much he supposed he ought to owe him.

“Oh, I don’t know – I am no judge of the value of blood horses, but I have been told they are worth fortunes sometimes,” replied Beers.

“And mine was one of the best in the world,” said my father, “and in such perfect condition for running – all bone and muscle.”

“O yes, I saw that,” said Beers, despondingly, but with a frankness that showed he did not wish to deny the great claims of the horse and his owner.

“Well,” said my father with a sigh, “as I have no desire to go to law on the subject, we had better try to agree upon the value of the horse. You may mark on a slip of paper what sum you think you ought to owe me for him, and I will do the same; we can then compare notes and see how far we differ.”

“I will mark,” said Beers, “but, Uncle Phile, don’t be too hard with me.”

“I will be as easy as I can, and endeavor to make some allowance for your situation,” said my father; “but, Nelson, when I think how valuable that horse was, of course I must mark something in the neighborhood of the amount of cash I could have received for him. I believe, however, Nelson, that you are an honest young man, and are willing to do what you think is about right. I therefore wish to caution you not to mark down one cent more than you really think, under the circumstances, you ought to pay me when you are able, and for which you are now willing to give me your note of hand. You will recollect that I told you when you applied for the horse that I did not wish to let him go.”

Nelson gave my father a grateful look, and assented to all he said. At least a dozen of our joke-loving neighbors were witnessing the scene with great apparent solemnity. Two slips of paper were prepared; my father marked on one, and after much hesitation Beers wrote on the other.

“Well, let us see what you have marked,” said my father.

“I suppose you will think it is too low,” replied Beers, handing my father the slip of paper.

“Only three hundred and seventy-five dollars!” exclaimed my father, reading the paper; “well, there is a pretty specimen of gratitude for you.”

Nelson was humbled, and could not muster sufficient courage to ask my father what he had marked. Finally one of our neighbors asked my father to show his paper – he did so. He had marked “Six and a quarter cents.” Our neighbor read it aloud, and a shock of mirth ensued which fairly lifted Beers to his feet. It was some time before he could comprehend the joke, and when he became fully aware that no harm was done, he was the happiest fellow I have ever seen.

“By thunder!” said he, “I’ve got a dollar and thirty-seven and a half cents, and darned if I don’t treat that out as free as air. I was never scared so bad before in my life.”

Nelson stood treat for the company, and yet having half his money left on hand, he trudged home a happier if not a wiser man.

CHAPTER V (#ulink_7e9371fe-a26f-5ea1-a9e3-e1ad60019efb)

A Batch of Incidents (#ulink_7e9371fe-a26f-5ea1-a9e3-e1ad60019efb)

Money-making – Lotteries – An attractive Scheme – No Blanks – Small Prizes – Predecessors In Humbug – Cutting up Bacon – Out of Breath – An off Ox – White-faced Rum – A Pillar in the Church – A Fish Story – The Tables turned – Taking the Census – Quick Work – Hieroglyphics – A Strange Name – Taking an Oath – Button Moulds – The Tin Peddler – Trading in Whetstones – The Difference – Materials for my Book – The Wood Chopper – Excitement increases – The wonderful Bean – A Joke foreclosed – Death of my Father – A Trade in Bottles – My Lottery – Bottles and Skimmers – Lots of Tin – Doggerel – Mysterious Stockings – Curious Coincidence – An Act of “Charity” – Queer Symptoms – Tit for Tat – Trade in Russia – Comedy of Errors – The Fur flies – The Explanation – Filling Rum Bottles – The Old Pensioners – The Duel – A Dead Shot.

AMONG the various ways which I had for making money on my own account, from the age of twelve to fifteen years, was that of lotteries. One of our neighbors, a pillar in the church, permitted his son to indulge in that line, the prizes consisting of cakes, oranges, molasses candy, etc.; and the morality of the thing being thus established, I became a lottery manager and proprietor. The highest prize was generally five dollars – sometimes less, and sometimes as high as ten dollars. All the prizes in the lottery amounted to from twelve to twenty-five dollars. The cost of the entire tickets was twenty or twenty-five per cent. more than the prizes. I found no difficulty in disposing of my tickets to the workmen in the hat and comb manufactories, etc.

I had Gen. Hubbard as a predecessor in that business. He was a half-witted old fellow, who wandered about the town living upon the charities of its inhabitants. He was eccentric. One day he called in at Major Hickock’s and asked to have his boots soled. When they were finished Hubbard said to the Major, “I thank you kindly.” “Oh, that is more than I ask,” said the good-hearted Major. “‘Thank you kindly’ is two and sixpence, and I ask only two shillings.” “Well, I’ll take the rest in cider,” responded Hubbard.

On one occasion he got up a lottery – capital prize ten dollars, tickets twelve and a half cents each. He sold out all his tickets in a few days and pocketed the money. Coming around in those parts a fortnight afterwards, his customers inquired about their prizes. “Oh,” replied Gen. Hubbard, “I am convinced this is a species of gambling, so I have concluded not to draw the lottery!” His customers laughed at the joke and lost their shillings.

Lotteries in those days were patronized by both Church and State. As a writer has said, “People would gamble in lotteries for the benefit of a church in which to preach against gambling.”

In 1819 my grandfather, Phineas Taylor, and three other gentlemen, were appointed managers of a lottery for such a purpose, and they met to concoct a “scheme.” My grandfather was anxious to adopt something new, so as, if possible, to make it peculiarly attractive and popular. He finally hit upon a plan which he said he was sure would carry every thing before it. It was adopted, and his anticipations were fully realized. The Scheme, as published in the “Republican Farmer,” Bridgeport, July 7, 1819, set forth that the lottery was “By Authority of the State of Connecticut,” for the benefit of the “Fairfield Episcopal Society,” and the inducements held out for the purchase of tickets were as follows:

“The Episcopal Society in Fairfield was at the commencement of the revolutionary war blessed with a handsome Church, completely finished, and painted inside and out, with an elegant set of plate for the communion service, and a handsome Library; also a large and elegant Parsonage-House, with out-houses, fences, &c., which were all destroyed by fire, or carried away at the time the town of Fairfield was burnt, in the year 1779, by the British troops under Tryon, which so impoverished the Society that they never have been able to reinstate themselves; and, as all other Ecclesiastical Societies, and individuals, who suffered losses by the enemy at that time, have long since, in some measure, been remunerated by the Hon. Legislature; and at their Spring Session, 1818, on the petition of the Wardens and Vestry of the Episcopal Church in Fairfield, to the Hon. General Assembly, they granted a Lottery that might in some measure remunerate them also for their so long omitted claims.”

The “Scheme” itself was considered a novelty, for it announced, “Not a Blank in the Lottery.” It was certainly attractive, for while the price of a ticket was five dollars, 11,400 out of a total of 12,000 prizes were set down at $2.50 each!

This favorable state of things justified the managers in announcing, (as they did,) that

“A more favorable Scheme for the Adventurer, we presume to say, was never offered to the public. The one now offered contains more high Prizes than Schemes in general of this amount; and it will be observed that a person can obtain two Tickets for the same money that will buy but one in a Scheme of any other description. Consequently the Adventurer will have two chances for the high Prizes to one in any other Lottery.”

Never was a lottery so popular, before it was drawn, as this. The fear of drawing a blank had hitherto been quite a drawback to investments in that line; but here there was “NOT A BLANK IN THE LOTTERY!” Besides, adventurers had “two chances for the high prizes to one in any other lottery!” Rather slim chances to be sure, when we observe that there were only nine prizes above one hundred dollars, in twelve thousand tickets! One chance in thirteen hundred and thirty-three! But customers did not stop to think of that. Then again, according to the Scheme, “a person can obtain two Tickets for the same money that will buy but one in a Scheme of any other description.”

The tickets sold with unparalleled rapidity. Scarcely a person thought of purchasing less than two. He was sure to draw two prizes of $2.50 each, and at the worst he could lose no more than $5, the ordinary price of a ticket! All the chances were sold some time previous to the day announced for the commencement of the drawing – a fact unprecedented in the history of lotteries. My grandfather was looked upon as a public benefactor. He sold personally more than half the entire number of tickets, and as each manager received a per centage on sales made by himself, there was profit in the operation.

The day of drawing arrived. My grandfather announced each prize as it came from the wheel, and during the twenty-four days required for drawing the twelve thousand numbers at five hundred each day, he called out “two dollars and fifty cents” eleven thousand four hundred times, and various other prizes, all told, only six hundred times!

Persons who had bought two tickets, being sure of losing not more than $5 at the worst, found themselves losers $5.75, for as the Scheme announced “all prizes subject to the usual deduction of 15 per cent.,” each $2.50 prize realized to the holder $2.12, “payable in 60 days.”

The whole country was in an uproar. “Uncle Phin Taylor” was unanimously voted a regular old cheat – the scheme, with “not a blank in the lottery,” was denounced as “the meanest scheme ever invented, and nobody but Phin Taylor would have ever thought of such a plan for deceiving the people!” In fact, from that date till the day of his death, he was called “old two dollars and fifty cents,” and many was the hearty laugh which he enjoyed at the thought thereof. As time wore away, he was declared to be the ’cutest man in those parts, and the public generally became reconciled to consider his famous “Scheme” as a capital practical joke.

The drawing of a State-Church Lottery (under other managers) was advertised in February, 1823, and “adventurers” were assured of this “farther opportunity of obtaining an easy independence for the small sum of $5.” The quiet unction of this announcement is peculiarly refreshing. One chance in only twelve thousand! Such bipeds as “humbugs” certainly existed long before I attained my majority.

My grandfather was for many years a “Justice of the Peace,” and became somewhat learned in the law. As lawyers were not then so plenty in Connecticut as at present, he was sometimes engaged in pettifogging small cases before a Justice. On one occasion he went to Woodbury, Ct., in that capacity. His opponent was lawyer Bacon, an attorney of some celebrity. Bacon despised the idea of contending against a pettifogger, and seized every opportunity during the trial to annoy my grandfather. If the latter objected to evidence introduced by the former as irrelevant or illegal, Mr. Bacon would remind the court that his adversary was a mere pettifogger, and of course knew nothing about law or the rules of evidence. My grandfather took this all very coolly; indeed it gratified him to annoy the learned counsel on the other side. At last Mr. Bacon became considerably excited, and looking my grandfather directly in the face, he said:

“Your name is Taylor, I believe, sir?”

“It is,” was the reply.

“It takes nine tailors to make a man,” responded the lawyer triumphantly.

“And your name is Bacon, I think,” said my grandfather.

“Yes, sir.”

“Bacon is the meanest part of the hog,” rejoined the pettifogger.

Even the court joined in the laughter which followed, and at the same time advised Mr. Bacon to refrain in future from remarks which were unnecessary and unbecoming. The learned attorney exhibited a ready willingness in acceding to the request of the Judge.

My grandfather was troubled with the asthma. One day while walking up a steep hill in company with Mr. Jabez Taylor, (father to Oliver,) an old wag of about his own age, my grandfather, puffing and breathing like a porpoise, exclaimed:

“I wish I could stop this plaguy breathing.”

“So do all your neighbors,” was the facetious reply.

One of our neighbors, “Uncle Sam Taylor,” as he was called, was an eccentric man. He always gloried in being on the contrary side. If a proposition was as plain as the sun at noon-day, Uncle Sam would never admit it. If a question had two sides to it, he would be sure to find the wrong one, just for the sake of the argument. Withal, he was a good-hearted man, and an excellent neighbor. Ask him to loan you his axe or hoe, and he would abruptly reply: “You can’t have it, I don’t lend my tools,” and presently he would bring the article you desired.