Chapter XIII: The Circus (2)

Barnum had seen Jumbo many times in London after Jumbo had become a famous giant elephant. Barnum coveted him, but it seemed hopeless to think of obtaining him. However, an agent was instructed to ask the Royal Zoölogical Society secretary how much he would take for Jumbo, and the secretary, much to the surprise and delight of Barnum and Bailey, replied that he would sell Jumbo for $10,000. The money was sent immediately, and Jumbo was purchased in the name of P. T. Barnum. After the sale was completed, it was announced in the London newspapers. Immediately there was a furor of public indignation, and Jumbo became the most important question of the day in England. Hundreds of letters were written to the newspapers by fathers and mothers whose children had been carried for many years on Jumbo’s back, and the children themselves wrote sentimental notes, appropriately misspelled, begging Mr. Barnum not to take from them their dear Jumbo. The Queen and the Prince of Wales, who had often ridden on Jumbo’s back, joined in protesting against this outrageous sale of a public character; John Ruskin wrote indignantly that England had not been in the habit of selling her pets. Queen Victoria, the Prince of Wales, and John Ruskin begged the Zoölogical Society to refuse to deliver the elephant to Barnum, and they promised that the British nation would be responsible for any damages due to breach of contract. It was almost as if Barnum had purchased an English institution, like Mr. Gladstone or the Albert Memorial, and the volume of protest was greater than it would probably have been had Barnum been successful many years before in his attempt to carry off Shakespeare’s home. Lord Winchilsea undoubtedly expressed the view of thousands of Englishmen in his verse entitled “Jumbo”:

“But since in England’s fallen state
She owns two things supremely great,
Jumbo and Gladstone--(each we find
The most prodigious of their kind)--
And one won’t budge. Then, Barnum, make
A fair exchange, for quiet’s sake!
Take the Right Honorable, and go!
He’ll make the better raree show!
Leave Jumbo.”

Patriotic citizens were indignant with the Secretary of the Royal Zoölogical Society. He wrote a statement to the press, in which he claimed that for some time past Jumbo had been a source of constant anxiety to the directors of the Zoo. “It is well known,” wrote the secretary, “to all who have had much experience with such animals in confinement that male elephants, when they arrive at the adult age, are periodically liable to fits of uncertain temper.” Jumbo was eleven feet tall and weighed seven tons. In a fit of anger it was likely that he could cause considerable damage. “The possibility of having to destroy the animal,” said the secretary, “would be repugnant to the feelings of all who know and admire him, especially as there seems to be no reason whatever to suppose that when once the removal is over he may not be well cared for and live comfortably.” He pointed out that Barnum & Bailey had more than twenty elephants living together in the circus menagerie, and the fact that they lived in harmony and happiness, said the secretary, was proved by the birth of two baby elephants, “an occurrence hitherto unprecedented in captivity.” The publication of the letter by Mr. Sclater, secretary of the Royal Zoölogical Society, occasioned an answer, which was published in _The Times_ on February 24, 1882, in which the correspondent asked how often, if ever, it had been found necessary to confine Jumbo or seclude him owing to his “alleged recently-developed bad temper.” It was also asked if the Society had already determined to part with Jumbo before Barnum’s offer of $10,000. The correspondent failed “to see why the possession of 20 elephants enables the American firm to make arrangements for their custody so superior to those of our own Zoölogical Society for four or five animals, and I would ask whether it is or is it not a fact that one of the animals at Regent’s Park is at this time expecting that ‘unprecedented occurrence’--viz., an addition to her family in captivity?” The correspondent also asked whether it was, or was it not, a fact that this supposedly dangerous animal had been allowed during the last few days to mix with little children. “Assuming that the transfer of locality,” he concluded, “will not affect his daily exhibition, is it quite fair and honorable to accept so large a price for an animal that will presumably be at least as dangerous, if not more so (for his removal may not improve his temper), to the American, as he is said to be to the English children?”

The public was so eager to look at this animal they were about to lose forever that the Royal Zoölogical Gardens were crowded daily, and $50,000 were added to its receipts by the farewell receptions of Jumbo. Jumbo had a passion for buns, and so many were fed to him by his new ardent admirers that it was feared he would be killed with kindness before he could be transported. After Jumbo became a national question, the popular enthusiasm took a form it seems to take often with its greatest favorites. There were Jumbo cigars, Jumbo letter-heads, Jumbo ear rings, fans, hats, and cravats, Jumbo underclothing and Jumbo overcoats, Jumbo boots and Jumbo perfumes. On the menus of London hotels were Jumbo soups and hash, Jumbo fritters and stews, Jumbo salads and pies, Jumbo ice-cream and Jumbo kisses.

The editor of the _London Daily Telegraph_ sent the following cable despatch to Barnum:

“LONDON, February 22, 1882.

“P. T. BARNUM, New York:

“Editor’s compliments. All British children distressed at
elephant’s departure. Hundreds of correspondents beg us to inquire
on what terms you will kindly return Jumbo. Answer prepaid,
unlimited.

LESARGE, _Daily Telegraph_.”

But Barnum was firm. He answered prepaid, and took advantage of the word unlimited to advertise the Greatest Show on Earth:

“NEW YORK, February 23.

“My compliments to Editor _Daily Telegraph_ and British nation.
Fifty millions of American citizens anxiously awaiting Jumbo’s
arrival. My forty years’ invariable practice of exhibiting best
that money could procure makes Jumbo’s presence here imperative.
Hundred thousand pounds would be no inducement to cancel purchase.
My largest tent seats thirty thousand persons, and is filled
twice each day. It contains four rings, in three of which three
full circus companies give different performances simultaneously.
In the large outer ring, or racing track, the Roman Hippodrome
is exhibited. In two other immense connecting tents my colossal
zoölogical collection and museum are shown.

“In December next I visit Australia in person, with Jumbo and my
entire mammoth combination of seven shows, via California, thence
through Suez Canal. Following summer to London. I shall then
exhibit in every prominent city in Great Britain. May afterwards
return Jumbo to his old position in Royal Zoölogical Gardens.
Wishing long life and prosperity to the British nation, _The Daily
Telegraph_, and Jumbo, I am the public’s obedient servant,

“P. T. BARNUM.”

This reply was published in full in the _Daily Telegraph_, and it looked to Jumbo’s many new admirers as if there was no longer any possibility of saving Jumbo for England. And the enthusiasm for Jumbo increased every day. Four thousand six hundred and twenty-six curious and sorrowing persons on a certain Wednesday in March, 1882, visited Jumbo, as against 214 for the corresponding Wednesday of the previous year. London _Fun_ suggested that the British coat of arms should be altered by the removal of the lion and the substitution of Jumbo, the motto reading, “Dieu et Mon Jumbo.” James Russell Lowell, American ambassador to the Court of St. James’s, remarked in a public speech that “the only burning question between the two nations is Jumbo.”

But the English did not give up hope of retaining their favorite. Some of the fellows of the Royal Zoölogical Society brought an action in chancery for an injunction against the removal of Jumbo. The fellows contended that the council of the Society had no power under its charter to sell any animal, and they declared it as their opinion that “it must be morally wrong for the Council to sell a dangerous animal, and as a consequence whenever an animal cannot be safely retained in the gardens it ought to be killed.” “The Society is felt to be established for the promotion of science, and not for the purposes of trade,” wrote one of the fellows to the _Times_. This suit in chancery caused considerable comment in the _Times_. Sir George Bowyer, Fellow of the Royal Zoölogical Society, wrote that the British Museum had the power to dispose of duplicates and useless books, but if its trustees were to sell the Codex Alexandrinus, or some similar rare volume, a court would intervene. The Society, in the sale of Jumbo, said Sir George, had disposed of its most valuable and rarest item. There was only one elephant in the world known to be larger, and he belonged to a maharajah of India. Sir George refused to believe that the animal was in the dangerous state of “must,” a term used to designate elephants with tempers, and refused to admit that if he was he should be removed. This letter brought one from Major-General William Agnew, who said that his thirty-four years’ experience in Assam, “where elephants abound,” qualified him to say that an elephant in a state of “must” was an elephant to be removed from public gardens. “Among the elephants I myself owned at different times when magistrate of Goalpara was a male which became ‘must,’ and after attacking and almost killing its keeper broke from its stable, and for four days defied all my efforts for its recapture, which was only effected by the help of a party of elephant hunters who happened to pass through the station at the time in question.... I should like to be allowed to say one word more, which is that it behoves those in authority to see to the safety of Jumbo’s fellow-travelers on his voyage to America--at least, if he is to be a passenger in an emigrant ship. For my own part I should be very sorry indeed to travel with him.” The question was asked in the House of Commons if the Board of Trade had taken any measures to safeguard Jumbo’s fellow passengers.

Jumbo’s case then came up before Mr. Justice Chitty in the Court of Chancery. The _Times_ for March 9, 1882, published a leading article on the decision. “The case was one into which sentiment and prejudice have entered so far that the verdict of a jury,” said the _Times_, “if to a jury we can imagine it submitted, would not have been doubtful. It needed an impartial Judge to separate the question of propriety and advisability from the question of legal right.” Mr. Justice Chitty gave it as his opinion that the Royal Zoölogical Society had the right under its charter to sell animals without consulting all its fellows. The fellows had contended that this right was a delegated power, which was exercised legitimately when a gnu was sold for £150 or a pair of tigers for £400, but that Jumbo was unique and irreplaceable. Mr. Justice Chitty said that Jumbo’s mere size did not exempt him from the power of sale possessed by the Council. A report was read from the superintendent of the Zoo, written to the Council more than one year before the sale, in which he called attention to Jumbo’s temperamental state of mind and asked that he be provided with means for the animal’s destruction, should he become dangerous. The dissenting fellows urged the immorality of selling a dangerous animal to the American people, and the _Times_ wrote in its leader: “Regard for the safety of Mr. Barnum’s keepers and of the American public does not seem to have entered into the Council’s deliberations. A celebrated Latin poem ends with a prayer that Cybele will drive others frantic, but not the speaker himself. The Council of the Zoölogical Society will tell Jumbo in effect to crush and trample upon Americans if he will, but not upon us. This is a somewhat startling application of the principle of _caveat emptor_.” Mr. Justice Chitty replied to this argument that the Council of the Royal Zoölogical Society was not the guardian of the American people. Mr. Justice Chitty finally decided that the sale was valid, and that Jumbo was Barnum’s rightful purchase. At the last hearing Mr. Justice Chitty said that he had received a number of letters with respect to the case. Of course, they had not the slightest effect upon his mind, he said, but still it was extremely improper that they should have been sent. Some of the letters were from children. The _Times_ did not approve of the Jumbo excitement. Its editorial ended:

“People who have no suspicion that the friendly relations between
Russia and Germany have been endangered by Skobeleff’s speeches,
who have a vague idea of the Irish as a tiresome people, who
are far from comprehending the issues raised by the appointment
of the Lord’s Committee, and who confess that they have not
followed the discussions upon Parliamentary procedure, have taken
a keen interest in Jumbo’s destiny. Others have let fall the
thread of public events while they gaped open-mouthed at Jumbo
reconnoitering his trolley. It is well enough that children should
crowd in thousands to the Zoölogical Gardens, and, as a parting
act of kindness, or cruelty, stuff the hero of the hour with buns
innumerable. But it speaks volumes for the fundamental levity of
adult nature that men have, for the last fortnight, given the
first and foremost place in those of their thoughts which did not
regard themselves, not to kingdoms and their destinies, but to
Jumbo. It is too much to hope that we have heard the last of this
famous elephant; but perhaps Jumbo’s future will not monopolize
conversation after Mr. Justice Chitty’s decision of yesterday.”

It was too much to hope that the _Times_ had heard the last of Jumbo; when the public realized that his departure was inevitable, a wave of sentimental expression swept over England that surpassed anything that had gone before. Besides the accounts in newspapers, the illustrated papers published engravings of Jumbo in various attitudes. Picture books were published, and one of these contained the following verses about Jumbo and the female elephant, Alice, who was known as his wife:

“When quite a baby I came here, and now to London folk I’m dear,
They’ll try to keep me yet, I know, from Barnum and his traveling
show.
I have no tusks, for one fine day I had some very merry play,
And ran against a door of oak, and that was how my tusks were
broke.
It grieves me sadly to be sold for just two thousand pounds in
gold,
And could I talk I’d quickly say, ‘I’m treated in a shameful way.’
They chained me up one day, to be shipped across the raging sea,
But I, your faithful friend Jumbo, did not just feel inclined to
go.
Again they tried the nasty chain, but all the efforts were in vain,
For with a very angry frown upon the ground I laid me down.

“I love each little girl and boy who mounts my back for fun and joy,
And hope they’ll leave me here for life with Alice, my dear little
wife.
I love the brave old British flag, of it, my boys, I’ll always
brag,
And you must clearly understand, I do not care for Yankee land.
Leave me with Alice kind and true, leave us together in the Zoo,
And let our friend Squire Barnum know, I can’t go with him in his
show.”[25]

Jumbo himself took an active part in the controversy by lying down in the Royal Zoölogical Gardens and refusing to go near the large case constructed for his removal. His admirers were delighted and praised his intelligence as much as they had previously marveled at his size. Barnum’s agent cabled to him: “Jumbo is lying in the Garden and will not stir. What shall we do?” Barnum replied: “Let him lie there as long as he wants to. The publicity is worth it.” It was said that Barnum’s agents stimulated the sentiment for Jumbo in England; they may have started the sentimental ball rolling, but once it started it required no further attention. The ordinary elephant is afraid of a horse, and Jumbo, who had not been outside the Gardens for seventeen years, sat down as soon as he saw a horse. The superintendent of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, who was in attendance to see that Jumbo was not injured or maltreated, refused to allow the use of a goad. The superintendent of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children was also present to see justice done to the favorite of his charges.

Another difficulty Barnum’s agents experienced was with Jumbo’s size; there were few steamers with hatchways large enough to drop a huge elephant down into the hold. Finally, the _Assyrian Monarch_, a British freight steamer, was chosen. Then the huge box was built, and Jumbo was led into it several times in order to accustom him to his new quarters. Finally, when he suspected nothing, he was shut up in the crate and chained. For an hour he struggled against confinement, and it was feared he would smash his cage, but the box was placed on wheels, and ten horses were hitched to the shafts. During the early hours of the morning Jumbo was led triumphantly to the docks. In spite of the time a large crowd followed Jumbo on his nine mile trip to the pier. At seven o’clock he breakfasted and was treated to a large draught of beer by a lady admirer who had followed him all the way from the Zoölogical Gardens--Jumbo’s keeper, Matthew Scott, who had been his keeper since the animal’s childhood, had shared with him everything, including whisky, beer and cuds of tobacco. At the dock thousands of people gathered in windows, on roofs, and in boats to bid Jumbo farewell. He was placed on a lighter ballasted with sixteen tons of iron, and floated down the Thames to the _Assyrian Monarch_.

A select party sat down to luncheon on board the _Assyrian Monarch_ to bid farewell to Jumbo. William Newman, his American keeper, was presented with a gold medal by a few fellows of the Royal Zoölogical Society “to commemorate their appreciation of the coolness and skill of William Newman.” Mr. Patton, a member of the steamship company which owned the _Assyrian Monarch_, proposed the toast, “The United States,” to which General Merritt, the American Consul-general at London, replied. General Merritt expressed his belief that the possession of common objects of interest and sympathy tended to unite America and England in friendship and mutual understanding. He regretted that the great elephant was not conveyed in an American ship, but expressed the hope that America would soon have a mercantile marine of her own. The Consul-general then spoke of the large numbers of the subjects of the Queen who had left England for America in recent years.

As the boat dropped down to Gravesend, Jumbo received royal honors, the crews of the training ships mounting the yards as he went by. Baroness Burdett-Coutts, friend and correspondent of Dickens, admirer of Louis Napoleon, and collector of Shakespeare folios, took as much interest in Jumbo as she did in her other hobbies. She traveled by train to Gravesend on the day of Jumbo’s final departure, and she took with her a party of Lords and their Ladies. The Baroness had sent ahead a large box of buns for the use of Jumbo during his passage. Before the _Assyrian Monarch_ left she gave Jumbo his last bun and bid him good-by, expressing the opinion that he would find as many warm friends in America as he had found in England. She shook hands with Newman and Scott, and the boat departed. A code of signals was arranged by which news of Jumbo was signaled for more than twenty-four hours after the _Assyrian Monarch_ passed Dover, and accounts of his health were sent from The Lizard, the last point on British soil. The ship also carried elastic bags, into which communications concerning Jumbo were placed and dropped overboard for the information of the British public.[26]

Jumbo arrived in New York harbor on Sunday morning, April 9, 1882. Barnum, Bailey, and Hutchinson went down to the ship. The _Tribune_ said that “Mr. Barnum’s nose shone in the morning light, and his eyes sparkled with boyish eagerness,” as he “clambered nimbly on board the _Assyrian Monarch_.” “‘Bless my soul!’ he exclaimed. As nobody complied, he continued, ‘Where’s Jumbo? I didn’t know he was here until I read of his arrival in the papers this morning.’” When at last he found himself in front of Jumbo, Barnum was almost moved to tears. “Dear old Jumbo,” said the showman, who was then seventy-one years old, “that beast has cost me $50,000,” he added thoughtfully. Mr. Hutchinson was seized with a fit of coughing, according to the _Tribune_ reporter, and said that Barnum’s figures were a trifle high, that the actual cost of Jumbo and his transportation was nearer $30,000. Barnum became sentimental and reminiscent. He remarked that he had ridden on Jumbo’s back with General Tom Thumb. “Thirty years ago,” Barnum addressed the reporters in his squeaky, aged voice, “I brought the biggest thing New York had ever seen up the bay in the shape of Jenny Lind, and she cleared $700,000 in nine months.” Then he looked hopefully at Jumbo and stroked him tenderly. He asked that Jumbo’s dimensions be given to the press. “How high does he reach up with his trunk?” Barnum asked. “It’s forty-nine feet, isn’t it?” and he stared suggestively at one of the keepers. But the keeper did not take the hint. “Twenty-six feet,” he answered. Barnum remarked, “If I were a showman, I would have exaggerated it, but there’s nothing like the truth!” “They took in $2,000 a day after he was sold to me,” Barnum said, “but I let them keep it; I didn’t want any trouble.” A bottle of whisky was brought forth for Jumbo. Barnum shouted, “I object to my elephant drinking whisky,” but in spite of his protests the entire quart of whisky was poured down Jumbo’s throat, and the animal did not even blink an eyelash. The whisky was followed immediately by a quart of ale, Barnum protesting vigorously, but nobody paying any attention to his wishes. “Look at the evils of intemperance,” he said. “Why, Jumbo would have been twice as large if Scott hadn’t stunted him by giving him a bucket of beer every day.”

Barnum had an order from the Secretary of the Treasury, admitting Jumbo free of duty, on the declaration that he was an animal imported for breeding purposes. When he first bid for Jumbo, Barnum intended to use him mainly for breeding purposes, but after England sentimentalized about the elephant, he was worth more as a curiosity. Jumbo was led up Broadway to Madison Square Garden, where the circus was then playing. At first he was frightened by the band music, the crowds, and the horses, but he soon grew accustomed to his new surroundings. Barnum told a reporter that in six weeks Jumbo had attracted $336,000 to the circus.

_From a circus pamphlet_]

Before Barnum had purchased Jumbo, the elephant was known only to the population of London; after the controversy he was known throughout the British Isles. It was Bailey’s intention, therefore, to take the Greatest Show on Earth to England with Jumbo and give the entire population of the British Isles an opportunity to see the animal. For several years Jumbo was with the Barnum & Bailey show in this country, while preparations were being made for the extensive foreign tour. Exhibited with him was a baby elephant, called “Tom Thumb.” On September 15, 1885, in Ontario, Canada, Jumbo was struck by a freight train and pinned between it and a train of show cars. The freight train was derailed and the engine broken. Jumbo’s skull was fractured, and he suffered internal injuries. He died a few moments later. It was said by the circus publicity men that Jumbo died in a heroic attempt to rescue his favorite, the baby elephant, “Tom Thumb.”

_From a circus pamphlet_]

Jumbo’s death was cabled all over the world, and English newspapers and public mourned his loss. Soon after Jumbo’s death Barnum & Bailey succeeded in buying Alice from the Royal Zoölogical Gardens. She was brought to this country and advertised extensively as “Jumbo’s Widow.” Jumbo’s skeleton was articulated and his skin stuffed. He was thus exhibited at the show by the side of his widow, and the specimens were finally given by Barnum to Tufts College, of which he was one of the founders. That college still uses the head of Jumbo as its emblem. Three days after Jumbo died, Barnum wrote to Harper Brothers, the publishers:

“WALDEMERE, BRIDGEPORT, CONN., Sept. 18th, 1885.

PRIVATE

“GENTLEMEN

“Millions of children and adults (myself included) are mourning the
death of _Jumbo_.

“Would you like to publish for the holidays--the life history and
death of Jumbo, with many incidents and anecdotes not heretofore
published By P. T. Barnum Profusely Illustrated? The title can of
course be changed from the above. Probably numerous cuts now extant
can be used. If properly written up, would it not be an interesting
Christmas Childrens book--perhaps on _both_ sides of the Atlantic?
Truly yours,

P. T. BARNUM.

“Messrs. Harper Brothers & Co.”

There is this reply penciled on the letter, apparently a memorandum from a member of the Harper firm: “If Mr. Barnum would employ some one, accustomed to writing for publication, to prepare the book (retaining Mr. B.’s name on title-page) we think it might be a successful venture and would like to consider the Ms.”[27] This to the author of the _Life of P. T. Barnum Written by Himself_ and _The Humbugs of the World_! Barnum could not receive such a suggestion with equanimity.

But in his last years Barnum did allow several juvenile books of adventure to be written by the circus press agent and published under his name. Among these are _Lion Jack: A Story of Perilous Adventures Among Wild Men and the Capturing of Wild Beasts; Showing How Menageries are Made. By P. T. Barnum_; _Dick Broadhead, A Tale of Perilous Adventures by P. T. Barnum, author of “Lion Jack,” “Jack in the Jungle,” “Struggles and Triumphs of P. T. Barnum,”_ etc. The circus press agent also wrote for Barnum his book called _The Wild Beasts, Birds, and Reptiles of the World: the Story of Their Capture. By P. T. Barnum._ These books are written in the familiar style of all juvenile adventure stories. On page 167 of _Lion Jack_ occurs this sentence: “‘Up the river, now, and keep a sharp look-out for the hippopotami,’ said the doctor.” The hero, Jack, is a circus-rider, who has all the virtues of ambitious boyhood and not a vice, a veritable Horatio Alger, Jr., hero. Barnum himself is introduced by the press agent as a character in his own story, and he is called “the good-natured, benevolent-looking, middle-aged gentleman,” designated as “the owner” of the show, who lived in “a pleasant city on the coast of Long Island Sound.”

V

While Jumbo was still a popular favorite, Barnum & Bailey indulged in another adventure in elephants that created national interest. Two agents of the Greatest Show on Earth were traveling in the East in search of human types for the great “Ethnological Congress of Strange Savage Tribes,” which was the leading feature of the show one year. The agents, Thomas H. Davis and J. B. Gaylord, visited Burmah. Here they learned of the extravagance of King Theebaw, who found it difficult to keep his expenditures within the limits of his enormous revenues. Davis made a substantial present to the chief priest of the King’s chapel, in order to obtain confidence at court, and this gift was appreciated by the King’s favorite wife, who worshiped regularly at the chapel, which, without the aid of American money, would have fallen into a state of irreverent decay. Davis spent much time in the company of the chief priest, who was anxious to return the favor of the American gift. Davis’s only request was a sight of the Sacred White Elephants, which were famous throughout the world for their rarity.

The chief priest admitted Davis to the royal stables; he decided that Barnum & Bailey must have a Sacred White Elephant. Since it was considered an act of the worst religious profanation for one of the Sacred White Elephants to leave Burmah or Siam, it was necessary for Davis to act with care and patience. He made a friend of the prime minister of Burmah, whose double task was to keep the King always supplied with money and to restrain the nation from rebellion. The tasks were daily growing more incompatible, and Davis hinted that he knew a way by which the King’s treasury would be richer by $50,000. The prime minister was anxious for the details, but Davis allowed several weeks of economic worry to pass, in order that the prime minister might become frantically interested. Meanwhile, he met King Theebaw several times in audiences, and the King was delighted with Davis’s American vivacity. Davis learned about the court that the prime minister was beginning to abandon the interests of the King, who was headed for ruin, and was thinking of his own pocket, and one day Davis bluntly offered the prime minister $75,000 for one of the Sacred White Elephants. The prime minister answered that he valued his life at more than $75,000, and Davis changed the subject for several weeks. Finally the prime minister was persuaded that a Sacred White Elephant could be smuggled out of Burmah without any hint of his part in the transaction.

Davis and Gaylord chartered a wheel steamer at Rangoon and hired fifteen Mohammedans as their crew, for Mohammedans laugh at the sanctity of the White Elephant. The distance from the royal stables to the wharf was three-quarters of a mile. A docile white elephant was chosen, and he was painted red and blue to disguise him. The real Sacred White Elephant is not white, but a pinkish gray, differing only slightly in color from the ordinary elephant, and often distinguishable only by a few pink spots. The Sacred White Elephant was covered with trappings and embroidered cloths. When night came, the animal, whose name was Toung Taloung, was led through the streets to the wheel steamer. It was then a comparatively simple and safe matter to get him to Liverpool, and thence to New York.

While the Sacred White Elephant was en route to New York, Barnum, his partners, and his press agents made preparations for his enthusiastic reception. A prize of $500 was offered for the best poem commemorating the arrival in this country of the first Sacred White Elephant to be seen by profane eyes. This was the method of publicity Barnum had found so efficacious in the matter of Jenny Lind. The $500 were finally divided among three of the competitors, and one of the successful poets was Joaquin Miller, the poet of the Sierras, who apparently needed $500 in a hurry. His contribution read:

THE SACRED WHITE ELEPHANT--TOUNG TALOUNG

By JOAQUIN MILLER

For fifty years good Barnum bought
God’s wondrous creatures every one;
And last, impossible! he sought
To buy the “sun spots” of the sun--
The Sacred Elephant! as soon
Could silver buy the silver moon.

’Twas daring much to gain the prize
Where kings had failed, and more than bold,
And doubtful Europe rubbed her eyes
To see him scatter heaps of gold!
But Barnum gold, and Barnum grit,
And Barnum wit accomplished it.

Salaam! And welcome from Siam,
O sun-crowned of the Orient!
The people cry, from pine to palm,
Thrice welcome to the Occident!
Cry, mottled Monarch of Siam--
Salaam! Salaam! Salaam! Salaam!

They see the storied East in thee,
See vast processions, kneeling priests,
Proud tents beneath the banyan-tree,
Swift chariot wheels, great kingly beasts--
Triumphant Alexanders drawn!
Against the golden door of dawn;

But see! thy temples wrapt in mold,
For all their glorious, ancient years!
Thy people prone, thy priests in gold--
A land of tyranny and tears.
And this the lesson, royal beast,
God recks not pagod: beast or priest.

We both have much to learn, no doubt,
Beneath the bright path of the sun
Where all the nights are blotted out,
And all thy days are blent as one,
You little dreamed the world was best
And wisest as you rounded west.

But welcome to the Christian’s West,
From land of dreams to land of deed.
You teach us much. Yet it were best
You pack this in your trunk to read
To tyrants on returning East:
_We worship neither man nor beast_.

Another contribution, which did not win a prize, but which delighted Barnum by its “originality and naïveté,” is worth reprinting:

THE WHITE ELEPHANT

By HELEN CONWAY

Columbia sat in most royal state,
Beside the Atlantic’s open gate.
Columbia fair! Columbia great!

But wealth and power hold secret stings;
Tho’ proud of her state and envied by kings
She humanly longed for impossible things.

Lovers a many had fair Miss C.,
But none so dauntless as Pee Tee Bee,
Who brought many treasures from land and sea.

She summoned him near and she said with a sigh:
“Is it true there’s a token which gold may not buy--
And has love no device with which to reply?

“Since Helen eloped with the son of Priam
Never was woman unhappy as I am.
Unless you can bring from the far land of Siam.

“The ‘Rose of the East,’ an elephant white,
Great ‘Toung Taloung,’ so rare a sight!
Oh! deny me not, mine own true knight.

“To this sacred beast they bow the knee
With as great devotion, far over the sea,
As we worship the dollars in our country.”

“Oh, bethink yourself,” cried brave Pee Tee Bee,
Of the elephants _now_ on your hands, Miss C.
Pray, have you forgotten the ‘heathen Chinee’?

“And Patrick and Norah will stay a long while,
They have come with their _trunk_ from the Emerald Isle.
And Indians and Mormons your leisure beguile.”

But Columbia bowed her beautiful head:
“These bring me but sorrow,” she mournfully said;
“Now, listen to me: tho’ I never may wed,

“I will give to that knight my most radiant smile,
Who captures this treasure through danger and trial,
And children and poor men will bless him the while.”

Then up rose the knight without a regret--
“’Tis the hardest task she has given me yet,
But I vow she shall have this rare white pet.”

What magic he used--the means or the way--
A mysterious problem remaineth to-day;
But the elephant came without any delay.

And Columbia smiled on Pee Tee Bee,
As she had not smiled since she took tea
In Boston Harbor with one J. B.

When Toung Taloung arrived in New York in March, 1884, Barnum and the patrons of his show were astonished that he was not a milk white in color. He looked very much like any elephant, and the only distinguishing marks of his sacred value were several leprous-like pink spots in various places about the ears. Barnum and his partners made the best of the situation, and insisted in their advertising that the Sacred White Elephant was not supposed to be white. They obtained excellent testimonials to the genuineness of their article. General Daniel B. Sickles, one time Minister of the United States to Siam, was a member of the welcome party to Toung Taloung, and he pronounced the elephant to be the best specimen of Sacred White Elephant he had ever seen. Similar endorsements were also obtained from Colonel Thomas W. Knox, the only American to whom the King of Siam had presented the Order of the White Elephant, and from Mr. David Ker, Siamese correspondent of the _New York Times_.

Accompanying the Sacred White Elephant were two alleged Burmese, Bo Tchoo and Ba Tchoo, but their names sound somewhat like publicity Burmese. The following certificate was printed in all the newspapers and exhibited with the Sacred White Elephant:

“In the year 1245, month of Tasoung Mong, 5th increase at Mandalay.
I, Moung Thee, Second Minister of Royal Elephants, do hereby
certify that the Elephant named ‘Toung Tylongu’ is the specie of
White (Sacred) Elephant, and possesses the qualities and attributes
of such. By Order of

“HPOUNG-DAW-GYEE HPAYAH
“(King and Lord of all White Elephants)
“(Signed) MOUNG THEE
“Second Minister of Royal Elephants.

“W. MALING, Translator.”

Some have said that this Sacred White Elephant of Barnum’s was a sand-papered and scrubbed elephant of ordinary profane habits, who was painted. But it is more probable that Barnum was fooled by his conception of a Sacred White Elephant as really white, and that his agents thought that a genuine Sacred White Elephant would have enough publicity value, even if the color was not up to expectations. The elephant did have great publicity value, but as a curiosity he did not last long. Most people who visited the Barnum & Bailey circus were disappointed when they did not see a cream-white elephant, and Toung Taloung was subsequently returned to the circus winter quarters at Bridgeport, where he perished in the fire that destroyed those buildings in 1887.

The Adam Forepaugh circus, one of the strongest rivals of Barnum & Bailey, determined to have a Sacred White Elephant that would really be white, but Adam Forepaugh did not trouble to send to Burmah or Siam for his specimen. The elephant trainers prepared a white elephant by the sacred use of sufficient paint, and with careful applications every other day of a preparation that would not too easily wear off, a White Elephant of Siam, but truly white, was with Adam Forepaugh’s show. Just at this time the Prince of Siam was traveling in the United States, and after much trouble he and his suite were persuaded to visit Forepaugh’s circus and pass upon the elephant. There were no interpreters present. When the Prince entered, Adam Forepaugh is said to have rushed up to him, slapped him on the back cordially and vigorously, and said in American: “There now, Prince, ain’t that the kind of elephants you have in your country?” The Prince was too astonished, and his suite too shocked, to deny anything, and they left the circus hurriedly. Adam Forepaugh took this as a sign of unqualified approval, and he advertised accordingly.

VI

The Barnum & Bailey show continued to increase in size each year, and also to increase its receipts. Efforts were continued to supply more startling novelties and larger performances. “Jo-Jo, the Dog-Faced Russian Boy,” or “The Great Ethnological Congress of Strange Savage Tribes,” were supplemented by other attractions each year. The newspaper reviews of the progress of the circus through the country are the panegyrics to a victorious army of entertainment. Every town of any size throughout the East, South, and Middle West of the United States soon had its “Barnum Day,” heralded weeks in advance by large bills showing the satisfied smile of the veteran showman.

_From a circus bulletin_]

During one of the annual tours of the circus the press agent, one M. H. Warner, kept a diary of events that gives the best possible impression of the magnitude, crudity and diversity of the enterprise:

April 1 (in Madison Square Garden)--Instantaneous hit of the
Sylvesters and the Julians. Their first season with a circus. Mr.
P. T. Barnum receives an ovation.

April 2--Death of Lottie Stirk, of the Stirk family of Bicyclists.
Little Lottie was only eleven years of age at the time of her
suddenly taking off. She was a bright, pretty, fearless child and
her loss was a sad blow to the members of the Company, who had
christened her “The Pet of the Show.”

April 5--Henry Cooper, the giant, received the joyful tidings that
his wife had presented him with a seventeen pound boy.

April 14--Thousands turned away in the evening. Mr. P. T. Barnum
gives up his private box to a party of pleasure seekers.

April 26--Philadelphia--At the first performance of the Sylvesters,
Lola, one of the trio of mid-air performers, dislocated her
shoulder, and their thrilling trapeze act was taken from the bill.

Mr. Barnum refused an offer of $500 a performance, stating that the
Barnum show was strong enough without his presence.

Principal among the casualties in the ring during the week was a
severe tumble received by Mrs. Adam Forepaugh in the hippodrome
race, and an accident to the Decomas, who fell in their mid-air
bicycle act.

On Saturday, May 1, the menagerie was augmented by birth of a baby
dromedary.

Monday, May 3, Carlyle, Pa.--“Best street parade ever given,”
was the comment on all sides. Indians from the reservation and
the pupils of two female seminaries visit the show. The Gilfort
brothers capture the audience.

Wednesday, May 5, Hagerstown, Md.--Schools suspend and courts
adjourn on account of the show.

Thursday, May 6, Frederick, Md.--Splendid business. Detective
Cooper arrests a professional thief and monte man, and is
complimented by the local press. Trouble in the tiger cage comes
near causing Bockburn to lose his life. His bravery and presence of
mind comes to his rescue.

Monday, May 10, Washington, D. C.--Chinese Legation and Ministers
of foreign lands visit the performance in their native costumes.
Mr. P. T. Barnum is offered a place on the Exposition Grounds to
found the Barnum National Museum and Menagerie.

Tuesday, May 25, Cincinnati, Ohio--William Beecher called to his
home in Philadelphia by a telegram announcing the dangerous illness
of his mother.

Frank Morgan has his leg broken accidentally while skylarking with
some friends.

Saturday, May 29, Louisville, Ky.--Weather warm. Big business.
Capt. Cook Smith, the Kentucky giant, presented with a gold-headed
cane by the chief of police, John Whalan. [Dimensions of the cane
are not stated in the diary.]

Saturday, June 5, Evansville, Ky.--Weather warm. Magnificent
attendance. Robert Eddy, an attaché in the cook department,
accidentally killed by falling between the cars. His mangled
remains were sent to his former home in Chicago.

Monday, June 7, Vincennes, Ind.--The boys distinguished themselves
by assisting to extinguish a burning grist mill located near the
lot. They are thanked by the owner of the building.

Saturday, June 12, Dayton, Ohio.--Mr. Hyatt orders in the “red
seats” again and they are filled with well-pleased thousands.
Weather propitious. James E. Fay leaves to attend his grandmother’s
funeral. A 100-yard foot race between Joe Mayers and W. Spedden for
$5 a side is won by the latter.

Monday, June 14, Columbus, Ohio--Charles Rench, one of the
Stirk family, is surprised at the evening entertainment. He is
called before the vast audience and presented with a magnificent
gold-headed cane by his Columbus friends. Mr. Henshaw eloquently
made the presentation speech. George Sherer is injured while
unloading, his knee being thrown out of joint. The kind-hearted
drivers come to his rescue.

Saturday, June 19, Steubenville, Ohio--Good business to clear
weather. Dick Sands, the champion clog dancer, receives a slight
paralytic stroke and is carefully attended to by the ladies of the
dressing-room. Detective Cooper captures four notorious pickpockets.

Friday, June 25, Youngstown, Ohio--Rain in the afternoon and an
“adventure” with roughs in the evening prove that our canvasmen are
not afraid to “work.”

Monday, June 28, Mansfield, Ohio--Subscriptions amounting to $125
raised by canvasmen for a youth who was injured in the Youngstown
“adventure.” Reported death of a man alleged to have been in
the same. Subsequent investigations by coroner and detectives
exonerate our boys from all blame. Detective Cooper adds five more
crooks to his long list of “circus followers.”

Friday, July 2, Defiance, Ohio--Clever business. Weather clear.
Whitfield stricken with paralysis after the evening concert, and
carried to his birth in car 51.

Saturday, July 3, Toledo, Ohio--Whitfield’s condition pronounced
dangerous, his entire left side being helpless. He is visited
by all the company at the Oliver House, and attended by expert
physicians.

The Arabs celebrate a national feast after a fast of thirty days.
Sheriff, the priest of the tribe, officiates, and Ali Mohamed,
the interpreter, acts as host. Among the number of distinguished
invited guests are Mayor Moore, Manager Cooper, and the editors of
the local papers.

In the evening Miss Venoa receives an injury to her knee in the
ladies’ flat race, which brings to her assistance a doctor from
the audience, and firm friends from each dressing room. No bones
broken, but a vacation recommended.

Sunday, July 4, Detroit, Mich.--In the evening the company
assembled to witness a presentation to Mr. Edwin Fritz, the mail
agent of the show. It consisted of a neat uniform of blue, together
with a silver shield and badge, a present from his associates.

Monday, July 5, Detroit--The seventy-sixth anniversary of P. T.
Barnum’s birthday appropriately celebrated by the company and
congratulatory dispatches are sent to the great showman by all
interested in his success. During each performance the red, white,
and blue colors were worn by each actor and actress.

Saturday, July 17, South Bend, Ind.--The following married
gentlemen are made happy by the companionship of their genial
better halves: Messrs. Hager, Hyatt, Putnam, Newman, Coyle, Door,
and Detective Cooper.

Friday, July 30, Champagne, Ill.--Scorching weather does not
interfere with good business. After the day show the company in
two band wagons and carriages visit the grave of Frank Seymour,
a former member of Forepaugh’s band. Through the energies of Mr.
George Cann, a former friend of the deceased, the grave was found
and appropriate ceremonies were held. Prof. James Robinson’s
band played two solemn dirges. W. L. Marsh executed an artistic
solo on the 1st B♭ trombone, and Mr. James Bigger delivered an
appropriate eulogy. Cooper, the giant, who was also a friend of the
dead musician, arranges with the sexton to properly decorate the
neglected grave. This touching tribute to a brother professional
was favorably commented upon by the press of the surrounding
country.

Saturday, July 31, Bloomington, Ill.--After the day performance a
number of the gentlemen amused themselves at target shooting with
a toy rifle. During this innocent sport Abdellah Ben Said, the
manager of the Arabs, was accidentally shot in the neck by Orrin
Hollis, and subsequently taken to a hospital. All the doctors’
bills, the salary, and the board bill of Abdellah and his wife were
paid by Mr. Hollis. Firearms of all descriptions were prohibited in
the dressing room by Mr. Ducrow.

Sunday, Aug. 1, Peoria, Ill.--An anti-swearing society for 30 days
is organized. A fine of twenty-five cents for every naughty word
was imposed, and “finders were keepers.” Considerable merriment was
indulged in by the “can’t cuss club” during the day, and not a few
dollars changed hands.

Hassen Ali, one of the Arabs, is assaulted by roughs and in the
mêlée his hand broken.

Thursday, Aug. 5, Jacksonville, Ill.--Two clever houses to smiling
weather. Orrin Hollis receives word that Abdellah is rapidly
recovering. He wears his first smile since the accident.

Sunday, Aug. 15, Aurora, Ill.--At midnight a violent wind, rain,
and thunder storm sweeps over the city which totally demolishes the
menagerie and museum tents. The tempest continues for nearly two
hours and tests the bravery and skill of the employees of the lot.
Most all of the cages have to be chained to the ground, and the
elephants guarded rigidly.

During the progress of the tornado two whelp leopards were born.
R. H. King is held responsible for the following conundrum: “Why
was the storm like the city? Because it was a-roarer!” Chestnut
bells were rung.

A stampede of the little elephants is promptly nipped in the bud by
Mr. Frank Hyatt and C. F. Callahan.

At this juncture a word of praise should be extended to the
intrepid canvasmen who never deserted their posts, although danger
to life and limb threatened at every moment.

Thursday, Aug. 26, Oshkosh, Wis.--The events of this day are too
well known to those who peruse “Barnum’s Budget” to demand a
detailed account. Each has his or her individual views upon the
subject, and enough has been spoken and published about it. In
brief: An incipient riot was quelled by the clever management of
Mr. Hutchinson, several arrests were made and a number of attachés
discharged.

A celebrated linguist visits the dressing room and tests the memory
of Ali Mahomet, the Arabian interpreter, as to dead languages. Ali
comes off first best.

The Anti-Swearing society disband.

Mr. Cooper, the giant, receives the sad news of his infant child’s
death.[28]

For some reason, Bailey is never mentioned in this diary of the circus. He may not have been present with the show during that season. But the management of a troupe as large as the Greatest Show on Earth was a job that P. T. Barnum never could have undertaken at his age. If Barnum had not had the foresight to select Bailey as a partner, it is likely that the present generation would never have known his name as a showman. Bailey was able to cope with every calamity quickly and efficiently. When the winter quarters were burned down on November 20, 1887, all the animals were destroyed except thirty elephants and one lion. Bailey ordered a new menagerie by cable, and in six hours he had purchased enough animals to form a better menagerie than the one destroyed by fire. The one lion who was saved was found by circus employees in a barn near Bridgeport. He had been eating sheep, and when the farmer’s wife heard a noise in the barn, she entered. What she saw in the dark looked to her like a large dog, and she began to beat the animal with a broom. The lion was busy with his meal, and he paid no attention to the blows. When the circus employees arrived and told the farmer’s wife what she had been beating, she fainted.