Let us, therefore, now recall the chief events in the biography of Phineas Taylor Barnum. The man who has converted the “American Circus” into a national institution of the New World was born in 1810 in the village of Bethel in Connecticut.
He is, therefore, now in his eightieth year. I refer those readers who may be curious about the details of this adventurous life to a book which P. T. Barnum himself wrote for the edification of his admirers (The Life of P. T. Barnum: New York, 1885), and also to another work, which was published simultaneously in Paris and New York in 1865, under the title of Les Blagues de L’Univers. [p017]
I pass over the exodus of the youthful ploughboy who quitted the farm to become the editor of a newspaper, and will only dwell upon the patriarch, who is ending his life in the village of Bridgeport (Conn.) with all the splendour of the setting sun. There, as far as eye can reach, Barnum’s gaze rests upon his own property only. To him belong the village, farms, and workshops, the 1,200 workmen, who labour incessantly, perfecting the materials of the circus, which special trains convey through the American continent, perpetually travelling from one ocean to the other.
J. A. BAILLY.
Barnum’s partner and son-in-law.
The law endeavoured to oppose the free passage of these trains over the public railroads. Barnum, through economy, at [p018] once proposed to construct new lines for his private use by the side of those already existing. Should the idea of visiting Europe during the Paris Exhibition occur to him, he would wish to acquire the Great Eastern to carry his apparatus, men and animals. The tent which covers his circus is alone worth 30,000 francs (£1,200); it is twice as large as the Hippodrome in Paris, and can shelter 15,000 spectators. In one day it can be erected, a performance given, and the journey renewed. The daily receipts vary between 40,000 and 60,000 francs.
Barnum’s cashiers, although installed in cars containing tills and writing-tables, have no time to keep any books. The daily receipts are forwarded uncounted to Bridgeport in sealed barrels, which are really measures of capacity for gold, silver, and copper coin. The accounts are all kept at Bridgeport. [p019]
A crowd of parasites follows Barnum on his travels and dwells round his tent. A town springs up in a few hours; people throng to it from fifty miles round. But then the arrival of the impresario king has been preceded for some months by immense descriptive placards posted in the localities through which his troupe would pass.
