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The Great Showman Dead
Last Hours of the Life of Phineas T. Barnum
The
Veteran Manager Sinks Into a Peaceful Sleep That Knows
No Waking--The Funeral To Be Private at His Express
Desire
By
THE NEW YORK TIMES
(July
5, 1810 – April 7, 1891)
(Article republished by Media Man)
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BRIDGEPORT,
Conn., April 7.--At 6:22 o'clock tonight the long
sickness of P. T. Barnum came to an end by his quietly
passing away at Marina, his residence in this city.
Shortly
after midnight there came an alarming change for
the worse. Drs. Hubbard and Godfrey, who were
in attendance, saw at once that the change was
such as to indicate that the patient could not
long survive. The weakened pulse, more difficult
respiration, and lower temperature showed that
the action of the heart had become so feeble as
to presage the collapse which was the beginning
of the end. Mr. Barnum seemed to realize that
he could not live much longer, and spoke of his
approaching end with calmness. Through the night
he suffered much pain. Mrs. Barnum remained at
the bedside during the night.
One
of the requests made by Mr. Barnum was that, when
all hope was gone, sedatives which would make
his passage to the next world more peaceful be
administered. About 4 o'clock this morning the
veteran showman spoke his last words. He was asked
if he wished a drink of water, and answered, "Yes."
Soon after he sank into a lethargy. It was difficult
to arouse him from this state, and on opening
his eyes a faint gleam of recognition alone indicated
that he had knowledge of his surroundings, or
knew those about him. All day long Mr. Barnum
lay in a semi-unconscious state. About 10 o'clock
the first sedative was administered, and repeated
several times during the day.
When
it became certain that the end was but a few hours
distant, telegrams to relatives were sent out,
and among the sorrowing group in the sick room
this evening when the final moments came were
Mrs. Barnum, the Rev. L. B. Fisher, pastor of
the Universalist church of this city, of which
Mr. Barnum was a member; Mrs. D. W. Thompson,
Mr. Barnum's daughter; Mrs. W. H. Buchtelle of
New York, another daughter; C. Barnum Seeley,
his grandson; Drs. Hubbard and Godfrey, his physicians;
C. B. Olcutt, a trained nurse from Bellevue Hospital,
and W. D. Roberts, his faithful colored valet.
The scene at the deathbed was deeply pathetic.
All were in tears. Although Mrs. Barnum has stood
up bravely under the strain, the closing moments
were too much for her and she gave way at times.
For an hour or two before his death those at the
bedside watched for some sign of recognition or
a word from the dying man, but in vain. His end
was peaceful and apparently perfectly painless.
Although
no arrangements have as yet been perfected for
the funeral, it is known that it will take place
Friday. The Rev. Mr. Collyer of New-York, a lifelong
friend of Mr. Barnum, will assist the Rev. Mr.
Fisher in the services, which will be private.
In accordance with the expressed wish of the deceased
he will be buried in Mountain Grove Cemetery,
where he recently had erected a massive granite
monument.
As
has been repeatedly published, Mr. Barnum makes
provision in his will for the continuance as a
permanent institution of the great show with which
his name is associated. For his wife, his daughters,
and other relatives, he has made handsome provision,
but the bulk of his property goes to C. Barnum
Seeley, his only grandson. Mr. Seeley lives in
New-York. He is a member of the Stock Exchange,
Mr. Barnum having purchased a seat for him a short
time ago.
Mr.
Barnum had been sick since Nov. 6. Several times
he rallied, but only twice during his illness
had he left the sick room. Death was due to degeneration
of the muscles of the heart. Throughout the city
to-night there is the deepest sorrow. The Post
Office, City Hall, business houses, and many private
residences are draped in mourning. Many telegrams
of condolence have already been received at Marina.
Day before yesterday Mr. Barnum was eighty years
and nine months of age. None but the family and
near relatives will be allowed to see the remains.
It was a request of Mr. Barnum and will be carried
out.
Mr.
Barnum's Life Story
The great American showman will never again plan
or manage a museum, circus, or other exhibition.
For more than forty years he toiled to amuse the
public. He has now gone to his final rest. His
life was filled with many noteworthy incidents
and remarkable adventures--so many, indeed, that
to give but the heads of each would occupy far
more space than it is possible for a newspaper
to devote to such a subject. For this reason it
is obvious that the sketch which follows can only
be regarded as an outline of the principal events
in his most eventful career.
Phineas
Taylor Barnum was born in the town of Bethel,
in Connecticut, on July 5, 1810, his name, Phineas
Taylor, being derived from his maternal grandfather,
one of the oldest settlers of New England. His
father, Philo Barnum, the son of Ephraim Barnum,
who served as a Captain in the Revolutionary war,
was a tailor, a farmer, at times a tavern keeper,
and ever on the lookout to turn a quick penny
by any honorable means. Born of such ancestors
and with such surroundings, it is hardly necessary
to say that the boy was early taught that if he
would succeed in the world he must work hard.
That lesson he never forgot. When little more
than a child he was obliged to do his share toward
the support of himself and his family. So when
he was only six years of age he drove cows to
and from pasture, weeded the kitchen garden at
the back of the humble house in which he was born,
shelled corn, and as he grew older rode the plow
horse, and whenever he had an opportunity attended
school. From the first he was a quick if not a
very regular student.
In
arithmetic and every form of calculation he was
particularly apt, and one of his earliest recollections,
and one which he always mentioned with much pleasure,
was that in his tenth year he was called out of
bed by his teacher, who had wagered with an acquaintance
that in less than five minutes he (the boy) could
calculate the number of feet in a given load of
wood. After obtaining the dimensions, half asleep
as he was, Phineas, much to the delight of his
teacher and the discomfiture of the doubting acquaintance,
correctly figured out the result in less than
two minutes. Nor was this knowledge of figures
the only marked trait which was early developed
by the boy. He was also at a remarkably early
age fully aware of the value of money. He never
was known to squander or foolishly spend a penny.
When he was six years old he had saved coppers
enough to exchange for a silver dollar. This he
"turned" as rapidly as he could with
safety, and by peddling home-made molasses candy,
gingerbread, and at times a species of liquor
made by himself and called cherry rum, he had
accumulated when he was not quite twelve years
of age a sum sufficient to buy and pay for a sheep
and a calf. Indeed, to use an expression subsequently
employed by him when relating these early experiences,
he was rapidly becoming a small Croesus, when
his father very kindly gave him permission to
buy his own clothing with his own money. Of course,
this permission materially reduced his little
store.
So,
living the life of a country boy, his career being
diversified by one visit to New York as an assistant
to a cattle drover, and numerous small business
transactions, in which he nearly always displayed
an ability to make a good bargain, the young Phineas
continued in Bethel until he was far advanced
in his teens. At this time he became a prominent
member of the Bible class in the local Sunday
school, and among other scholars was, upon certain
occasions, required to answer questions from the
Bible. The following answer to such a question
which was written by him may well serve as an
illustration of his bent of mind, as well as of
the progress which he had made as a scholar. The
text which he drew in accordance with the custom
of the Sunday school was, "But one thing
is needful and Mary hath chosen the good part,
which shall not be taken away from her."
Based upon this was the question. "What is
the one thing needful?" This was young Barnum's
written answer: "This question, 'What is
the one thing needful?' is capable of receiving
various answers, depending much upon the persons
to whom it is addressed. The merchant might answer
that the one thing needful is plenty of customers
to buy liberally without beating down, and to
pay cash for all their purchases. The farmer might
reply that the one thing needful is large harvests
and high prices. The physician might answer that
it is plenty of patients. The lawyer might be
of opinion that it is an unruly community always
engaged in bickerings and litigations. The clergyman
might reply, 'It is a fat salary, with multitudes
of sinners seeking salvation and paying large
pew rents.' The sensible bachelor might exclaim,
'It is a pretty wife, who loves her husband, and
who knows how to sew on buttons.' The maiden might
answer, 'It is a good husband who will love, cherish,
and protect me while life shall last.' But the
proper answer and, doubtless, that which applied
to the case of Mary, would be, 'The one thing
needful is to believe in the Lord Jesus Christ,
follow in His footsteps, love God, and obey His
commandments, love our fellow-men, and embrace
every opportunity of administering to their necessities.'
In short, the one thing needful is to live a life
that we can always look back upon with satisfaction
and be enabled ever to contemplate its termination
with trust in Him who has so kindly vouchsafed
it to us, surrounded us with innumerable blessings
if we have but the heart and the wisdom to receive
them in a proper manner."
For
many years after those quiet days in the Bethel
Sunday school the life of young Barnum was one
of hard and constant struggle. His father died
when he was fifteen years of age, and he was left
almost penniless to make his own way in the world.
To gain a respectable living he tried all sorts
of trades, and it can with all truth be said that
whatever he found to do he always did with all
his might. He was by turns a peddler and trader
in a small way, a clerk in Brooklyn and New York,
the keeper of a small porter house, the proprietor
of a village store, and editor of a country newspaper,
for writing alleged libels in which he was imprisoned
only to be liberated with a grand flourish of
trumpets and the congratulations of a crowd. After
this he kept a boarding house, did more trading
with varying success, was in the lottery business,
made a trip to Philadelphia, then regarded as
a far distant city, and was married to a young
tailoress, whom he many years after described
as "the best woman in the world, well suited
to his disposition, admirable and valuable in
every character as a wife, a mother, and a friend."
For
more than five years after taking this most important
and, as the result proved, satisfactory step,
Mr. Barnum continued with varying success to struggle
with the world until, in 1835, he at last found
the calling for which he seems to have been born.
In short, he went into "the show business,"
in which he afterward became so famous. Regarding
this period in his life he in after years wrote
as follows: "By this time it was clear to
my mind that my proper position in this busy world
was not yet reached.. The business for which I
was destined and, I believe, made had not yet
come to me. I had not found that I was to cater
for that insatiate want of human nature--the love
of amusement; that I was to make a sensation in
two continents, and that fame and fortune awaited
me so soon as I should appear in the character
of a showman. The show business has all phases
and grades of dignity, from the exhibition of
a monkey to the exposition of that highest art
in music or the drama which secures for the gifted
artists a world-wide fame Princes well might envy.
Men, women, and children who cannot live on gravity
alone need something to satisfy their gayer, lighter
moods and hours, and he who ministers to this
want is, in my opinion, in a business established
by the Creator of our nature. If he worthily fulfills
his mission and amuses without corrupting, he
need never feel that he has lived in vain. As
for myself, I can say that the least deserving
of all my efforts in the show line was the one
which introduced me to the business, a scheme
in no sense of my own devising, one which had
been for some time before the public, and which
had so many vouchers for its genuineness that
at the time of taking possession of it I honestly
believed it to be genuine."
The
first venture to which Mr. Barnum thus refers
was a remarkable negro woman, who was said to
have been 161 years old and a nurse of Gen. George
Washington--the first of a long line. The wonders
of this person are found fully set forth in the
following notice, cut from the Pennsylvania Inquirer
of July 15, 1835:
"CURIOSITY.--The
citizens of Philadelphia and its vicinity have
an opportunity of witnessing at Masonic Hall one
of the greatest natural curiosities ever witnessed,
viz., Joice Heth, a negress, aged 161 years, who
formerly belonged to the father of Gen. Washington.
She has been a member of the Baptist Church 116
years, and can rehearse many hymns and sing them
according to former custom. She was born near
the old Potomac River, in Virginia, and has for
90 or 100 years lived in Paris, Ky., with the
Bowling family. All who have seen this extraordinary
woman are satisfied of the truth of the account
of her age. The evidence of the Bowling family,
which is respectable, is strong that the original
bill of sale of Augustine Washington, in his own
handwriting, and other evidence which the proprietor
has in his possession will satisfy even the most
incredulous."
For
$1,000, some of which was borrowed and the rest
raised by the sale of a grocery store in the possession
of which he happened to be at the moment, Mr.
Barnum bought the "wonderful negress,"
and, making money by the venture, he ever afterward,
with only short intermissions, continued to follow
the business of a showman.
During
the years which followed he traveled all over
this country and in many other parts of the world,
and was interested in some of the most important
undertakings for the amusement of the public of
which recent history furnishes any record. Of
all his enterprises, however, he regarded his
connection with the American Museum and his management
of Jenny Lind and Tom Thumb as the most important.
It was on the 27th of December, 1841, that by
a shrewd stroke of business he obtained control
of the American Museum, on the corner of Ann Street
and Broadway in New York, and for years afterward
he continued to conduct that establishment. Under
his management it became one of the most famous
places of amusement in the world. In it, as it
is hardly necessary to state, were exhibited "the
Feejee Mermaid," "the original bearded
woman," "the woolly horse," giants
and dwarfs almost without end, and, to use Mr.
Barnum's own expression, "innumerable other
attractions of a minor though nevertheless a most
interesting, instructive, and moral character."
In addition to these "other attractions"
Mr. Barnum's plan also embraced the performance
in the museum of such moral dramas, so called,
as "Uncle Tom's Cabin," "Moses
in Egypt," "The Drunkard," and
"Joseph and His Brethren." It is noticeable
in this connection that Mr. Barney Williams and
Miss Mary Gannon, afterward so famous, commenced
their careers under his management at very small
salaries. E. A. Sothern and many other actors
who subsequently became celebrated were also from
time to time members of the museum dramatic company.
It was in November, 1842, that Mr. Barnum engaged
Charles S. Stratton, whom he christened Tom Thumb.
With him he traveled and made large sums of money
in different parts of the world. Later in life
he saw him married to a dwarf like himself.
Regarding
a visit which he made with Tom Thumb to the Queen
of England, Mr. Barnum in after years wrote: "We
were conducted through a long corridor to a broad
flight of marble steps, which led to the Queen's
magnificent picture gallery, where her Majesty
and Prince Albert, the Duchess of Kent, and twenty
or thirty of the nobility were awaiting our arrival.
They were standing at the further end of the room
when the doors were thrown open, and the General
walked in looking like a wax doll gifted with
the power of locomotion. Surprise and pleasure
were depicted on the countenances of the royal
circle on beholding this remarkable specimen of
humanity so much smaller than they had evidently
expected to find him. The General advanced with
a firm step, and as he came within hailing distance
made a very graceful bow and exclaimed, 'Good
evening, ladies and gentlemen.' A burst of laughter
followed this salutation. The Queen then took
him by the hand, led him about the gallery, and
asked him many questions, the answers to which
kept the party in an uninterrupted strain of merriment.
The General familiarly informed the Queen that
her pictures were 'first-rate,' and told her he
should like to see the Prince of Wales. The Queen
replied that the Prince had retired to rest, but
that he should see him on some future occasion.
The General then gave his songs, dances, and imitations,
and after a conversation with Prince Albert and
all present, which continued for more than an
hour, we were permitted to depart." After
this visit the General and his manager visited
the rulers of France and Belgium and many other
notable persons in Europe, and were everywhere
well received and entertained.
As
has already been stated, Mr. Barnum very justly
regarded his engagement of Jenny Lind as one of
the great events in his career. That engagement
was entered into in 1850. It resulted in a fortune
for Mr. Barnum, and in the payment to Jenny Lind
for ninety-five concerts of the sum of $176,675.09.
Besides this sum all the expenses of herself and
suite were paid by the manager. As high as $650
was paid at auction for a single ticket of admission
to one of her concerts. During the tour which
resulted so profitably, Miss Lind stopped for
a day at Iranistan, Mr. Barnum's beautiful country
seat near Bridgeport, which was afterward burned.
While there she said to her manager:
"Do
you know, Mr. Barnum, that if you had not built
Iranistan I should never have come to America
for you?"
"Pray
explain," said Mr. Barnum, much surprised,
and she went on: "Well, I had received several
applications to visit the United States, but I
did not much like the appearance of the applicants,
nor did I relish the idea of crossing 3,000 miles
of water, so I declined them all. But the first
letter which your agent, Mr. Wilton, addressed
to me was written upon a sheet headed with a beautiful
engraving of Iranistan. It attracted my attention.
I said to myself a gentleman who has been so successful
in his business as to be able to build and reside
in such a palace cannot be a mere adventurer.
So I wrote to your agent and consented to an interview,
which I should have declined if I had not seen
the picture of Iranistan."
To
which the manager gallantly replied: "Then
I am fully repaid for building it."
After
his successful engagement with Jenny Lind Mr.
Barnum was everywhere regarded as being "a
made man" and at the head of his business.
So he continued for a time, engaging in many new
enterprises. But, as the years went on, trouble
fell upon him, and by unwise speculation with
what was known as the Jerome Clock Company of
East Bridgeport he lost every penny he had in
the world. Still he did not give up the fight,
but by the help of friends, the increase in value
of certain real estate owned by him, and the great
energy which was ever one of his chief traits,
he again commenced in a small way; subsequently
took Tom Thumb to Europe for a second visit, and
by degrees repaired his broken fortunes. Later
on he again undertook the management of the museum
in New York, and upon its destruction by fire
established "the new museum" further
up Broadway. It was also burned, and he lost much
money. So also was his great world's fair building,
built in Fourteenth Street in 1873. But after
a time fortune again smiled upon him, and as a
manager of monster circuses and traveling shows
and as a public lecturer he met with much success
in all parts of the country.
During
all his life Mr. Barnum was a great believer in
the power of advertising. Indeed, to such an extent
did he carry this belief that he spent the entire
receipts of his first year in the old museum in
making the attractions of that place known to
the public. The result proved the wisdom of his
course. Still, much as he coveted the good offices
of the newspapers, he was bold enough to stand
out against them when he believed that the occasion
required it. This fact was fully proved by his
quarrel with the New York Herald and the elder
Bennett, a quarrel which grew out of differences
regarding the lease of the museum site, and which
resulted, first, in Mr. Bennett's refusal to take
Barnum's advertisements, and subsequently in the
refusal of the Theatrical Managers' Association,
headed by Mr. Barnum, to advertise in the Herald.
The war was continued for two years.
Mr.
Barnum had natural genius as an advertiser. No
man knew better than he the value of printer's
ink. He made it part of his business to be talked
about. The more attention he got in that way the
better he liked it. He had learned the advertising
art when a New-York showman, for that was practically
what he was until his Fourteenth Street Museum
burned down. Jerry Lind and Tom Thumb were cards
too great to be kept within one city, however
large. Excepting the years when they were his
attractions he confined his efforts principally
to pleasing the New-York public. His show in its
present extent and character was put in operation
within twenty years. When he branched out on this
grand scale his ideas kept pace with his opportunities.
Nothing was too ambitious for him to undertake.
One
of the greatest chances of his life came with
Jumbo. He had often gazed on that monster with
a showman's eyes in the Zoological Gardens at
London, but it had never occurred to him as possible
to possess the English pet. It was reserved for
one of his agents to induce the manager of the
garden to offer the animal for £2,000. Mr.
Barnum snapped up the offer at once. There was
a cry of protest from all England. The newspapers,
royalty, the clergy, statesmen, and men high in
the arts and professions led the outcry. It was
taken up by the masses. The ladies and children
became hysterical over the prospective loss. England
ran mad over Jumbo. Pictures of Jumbo, Jumbo's
life, Jumbo stories and poetry, Jumbo collars,
neckties, cigars, fans, polkas, and hats were
put on the market and worn, sung, smoked, and
danced by the entire English nation. The funny
papers took up the cry and published coats-of-arms
with Jumbo in the lion's place and labeled "Dieu
et mon Jumbo." Jumbo became nearly an international
question.
Mr.
Barnum was importuned to name the price at which
he would relinquish his contract and permit Jumbo
to remain in London. People crowded the Zoo day
after day to see Jumbo. Between November, 1881,
and March, 1882--the dates of purchase and removal--the
receipts at the Zoo, because of this craze, increased
about $15,000, a sum that might justly be added
to the purchase price of $10,000 as the total
revenue to the sellers from this transaction.
Mr. Barnum reminded the English people of this
when they wanted him to let Jumbo alone. He said
he had promised to show the animal in America
and had advertised him extensively. Therefore,
£100,000 would not induce him to cancel
the purchase.
An
animal so heralded was bound to make a sensation
here. The English craze had been so much advertising
for Barnum. When Jumbo and his movements became
a matter of deep public interest the newspapers
printed all they could get about him as a matter
of news. As an advertising attraction alone Jumbo
was worth to Barnum more than his price. He also
became a favorite here, and his untimely death
was mourned practically by two nations. Jumbo's
mate, Alice, never awoke anything like the popular
enthusiasm or affection that Jumbo enjoyed. The
bones of Jumbo went to the Smithsonian Institution,
and his stuffed hide to the Barnum Museum of Natural
History at Tufts College.
When
Jumbo became an old story, Mr. Barnum secured
as his next startling novelty the white elephant.
If this animal was not white and if people had
their opinion about the search for such an exhibit
having involved an outlay of $250,000, this acquisition
proved another great advertisement for the show.
Mr. Barnum spared no effort to let every one understand
that this was one of the world's wonders. He got
up a prize poem competition over the animal, to
which Joaquin Miller was a contributor.
Mr.
Barnum's gift of a museum to Tufts College was
announced at Commencement in June, 1884. A handsome
and well-appointed stone building was the result,
which cost him $55,000. Afterward he contributed
largely of exhibits for the museum. A gift equally
notable was that which he made in June, 1888,
to the Fairfield Historical Society and Bridgeport
Scientific Society of Bridgeport. The land was
a corner plot 100 feet square, and he contributed
also $200,000 for a ten-story building to be erected
upon it. Although this gift had been contemplated
by him for some time, he had thought of making
it on his birthday in July, 1888, when he would
be seventy-eight years old. It was made a month
in advance. This is the way he explained the change
of date:
"I
awoke about 5 o'clock that morning, and when I
looked over at Nancy, still sleeping, I said to
myself: 'I am getting old. At my age a man may
drop off any moment. Nancy, poor girl, will have
enough to bother her when I go without looking
after the business of the estate. I had better
attend to this thing myself.' I rose and sent
word to the Trustees to come to my house after
breakfast. Before 9 o'clock the whole thing was
done."
Mr.
Barnum's solicitude that no business cares should
devolve upon his wife at his death had led him
to make and publish his will in 1883. He had three
physicians with him at the time, who subscribed
to affidavits that he was of sound and disposing
mind and memory. His estate was then valued at
$10,000,000. The will named twenty-seven heirs
and was generous in charitable bequests. He valued
his share in the show at $3,500,000. His executors
were empowered to renew contracts to carry on
the show for the estate at the expiration of the
present contract in 1899. The Children's Aid Society
was specifically named as a beneficiary of a certain
percentage of each season's profits.
"I
don't know anybody connected with that society,"
the great showman explained, "but I believe
in the society. To me there is no picture so beautiful
as smiling, bright-eyed, happy children; no music
so sweet as their clear and ringing laughter.
That I have had power to provide innocent amusement
for the little ones, to create such pictures,
to evoke such music, is my proudest reflection.
I believe this society to be the most practical
Christian institution in America. I have catered
to four generations of children. I want children
to remember me."
Other
codicils were afterward added to the will to include
the Tufts and Bridgeport institutions within its
provisions. In April, 1889, he arranged that the
management of his interests in the show after
his death should devolve upon his grandson, Clinton
Barnum Seeley.
Mr.
Barnum's latest great personal triumph was won
during his visit to England in the Fall of 1889
and Winter of 1890. The feat of carrying across
the ocean his enormous show compelled the admiration
of the English people. They forgot the Jumbo incident
and received him with popular enthusiasm. All
classes extended to him every possible honor,
and his London season was a most wonderful and
satisfying success.
No
notice of Mr. Barnum would be complete without
at least a passing reference to his services in
the field of politics. He was originally a Democrat,
but when the war broke out was one of the most
outspoken defenders of the Union, and subsequently
acted enthusiastically with the Republicans. He
was four times elected to the General Assembly
of Connecticut, and made his mark by advocating
the rights of individuals as against railway monopolies.
He also served with credit as Mayor of Bridgeport,
a city in the improvement and beautifying of which
he spent much time and money.
Such
in brief has been the career of one of the remarkable
men of this country. Phineas Taylor Barnum was
a good father, a faithful husband, a true friend,
and an honest public servant. He was a shrewd
manager, and in his business made money when he
could. From the smallest of beginnings he won
notoriety, if not fame, in two continents. His
life was filled with the most striking examples
of what may be accomplished by that peculiar quality
known as "Yankee push." His name will
long be remembered in his native land. He was
twice married, his second wife being an English
lady. He engaged in live stock enterprises with
Vanderbilt, the Eastmans, and others.
Bridgeport's
Great Benefactor
Mr.
Barnum's Home Life and His Many Philanthropic
Works
BRIDGEPORT,
Conn., April 7.--From the time Mr. Barnum decided
upon Bridgeport as his home his interest was centered
in what would best benefit the city. He invested
largely in real estate, induced manufacturing
concerns to locate here, and did much to beautify
the city. He gave part of the land comprising
Seaside Park, one of the most beautiful spots
in the country. No charitable object was ever
refused assistance by Mr. Barnum, and his name
can be found as a Director and stockholder in
many of the enterprises that came to this city
struggling concerns and are now rich and prosperous.
When he had, by the accumulation of wealth, passed
all question of financial trouble, he used what
his foresight had secured to him for the benefit
of the poor people. He established the system
of building houses and selling them to the working
people on long payments and low rates of interest,
and hundreds of pretty residences now owned by
the working class here were secured through Mr.
Barnum's generosity.
For
the past few years Mr. Barnum's home life was
passed quietly at Marina. His household consisted
of his wife and servants, including W. D. Roberts,
for many years his faithful colored valet. He
was always very happy to see his fellow-townsmen,
and to call and chat a few minutes with Mr. Barnum
was a pleasure many availed themselves of. Marina,
his residence, although small compared to Iranistan
and Waldemere, the two mammoth structures he had
occupied in this city, is most pleasantly situated
at Seaside Park, overlooking the Sound, and is
perfect from an architectural point of view. His
reason for tearing down the stately Waldemere
and building the smaller residence at the park
was, according to Mr. Barnum's own statement,
to have his wife in a house before he died where
he thought she would be contented to live the
rest of her days. Up to the time he was taken
sick, with the exception of the time occupied
in his trip to Denver a few months ago that he
might see the Rocky Mountains once more before
he died, he had been a familiar figure on the
streets of this city. He always had a pleasant
nod for his acquaintances, and oftentimes stopped
them to relate some pleasing story.
Mr.
Barnum was very liberal-minded. When the question
of giving the Sunday sacred concerts at the park
for the benefit of the working people was advanced
last Summer, there was a great howl of indignation
on the part of many of the residents at the park.
Mr. Barnum, however, took a different view of
the matter. He was in favor of it. He advocated
it through the local papers, and Sunday afternoon,
when the first concert was in progress, drove
through the park in his carriage, and was cheered
by thousands. There was talk of police interference,
and Mr. Barnum told the leader of the band to
come up to Marina and play all day, and the grounds
would be free to all who wished to hear the music.
The
Barnum prize medals in the public schools of this
city and the many prizes offered to the scholars
came from Mr. Barnum. He invariably attended the
prize speaking of the scholars, and took great
pleasure in the contests. When in his eightieth
year he contracted for the filling in of a portion
of his land near Seaside Park. The work cost $100,000,
and was finished but a short time ago. It was
his intention to erect a large Summer hotel on
the land, calling it Ozone Hotel. Next to Brighton,
England, and some other resorts in Europe, he
considered Bridgeport the most healthy place in
the world, and the atmosphere as having the most
ozone, and the building of the great Summer hotel
was what he most wished to do before he died.
He made statements that he had made arrangements
to have his wishes carried out in this respect.
His
most recent gift to Bridgeport was that of $150,000
for a new building for the historical and scientific
societies of this city, a description of which
has already been printed in The Times. He expressed
a wish a few days ago that he might live to see
the dedication of the building that is now in
process of construction.
Mr.
Barnum at the time of his death was paying taxes
on about $1,000,000 worth of real estate in this
city, and some volumes of the records of the city
are almost completely filled with his real estate
transactions.
Appreciated
Abroad
LONDON, April 8.--The Times, in speaking of the
death of P. T. Barnum, says: "The octogenarian
showman was unique. The death of Mr. Barnum removes
a noteworthy and almost classical figure, typical
of the age of transparent puffing through which
the modern democracies are passing. His name is
a proverb already, and will continue to be a proverb
until mankind has ceased to find pleasure in the
comedy of a harmless deceiver and the willingly
deceived."
All
the newspapers contain long obituaries and eulogies
of Mr. Barnum.
The
Show Went On As Usual
But It Will Be Closed on the Day of the Funeral
The show at the Madison Square Garden went on
just the same last night, although the news of
the old showman's death reached his partner at
6:30 o'clock, and was being hawked about by evening
newspaper venders as the audience arrived. Mr.
Fish, one of Mr. Barnum's secretaries, came down
from Bridgeport in the afternoon, when the physicians
decided that death was but a few hours off, and
said that Mr. Barnum and all the members of his
family wished the show to continue in any event
and to be closed only on the day of the funeral.
Mr.
Bailey said last night that it would have been
almost impossible to do anything else. He could
not turn away an audience of 10,000 people last
night and could not get word out in time to stop
hundreds of people coming in from out of town
for to-day's performances. He will announce, however,
as soon as the day of the funeral is decided upon,
that the show will be closed for both performances
that day, and all tickets for these performances
will either be exchanged or the money therefor
refunded.
Everybody
in the company, down to the ring attendants, seemed
to be greatly affected at the death of Mr. Barnum
and every one had his bit to add to the story
of the dead man's kindliness and worth. Mr. Bailey
said that his partner's death would make no difference
in the show, as by articles of agreement entered
into several years ago the company will be held
together for many years. The heirs and assigns
of both men are directed by the agreement to keep
the $3,500,000 capital intact and to continue
the present aims and policy of the organization.
Links:
The
New York Times (permission granted in writing
for reproduction of article)
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