He had at one time two famous men, the French giant, M. Bihin, a very slim man, and the Arabian giant, Colonel Goshen. These men generally got on together very well, though, of course, each was jealous of the other, and of the attention the rival received, or the notice he attracted. One day they quarreled, and a lively interchange of compliments ensued, the Arabian calling the Frenchman a "Shanghai," and receiving in return the epithet of "Nigger." From words both were eager to proceed to blows, and both ran to the collection of arms, one seizing the club with which Captain Cook, or any other man, might have been killed, if it were judiciously wielded, and the other laying hands on a sword of the terrific size which is supposed to have been conventional in the days of the Crusades.
The preparations for a deadly encounter, and the high words of the contending parties, brought a dozen of the Museum attaches to the spot, and these men threw themselves between the gigantic combatants. Hearing the disturbance, Barnum ran from his private office to the dueling ground, and said:
"Look here! This is all right; if you want to fight each other, maiming and perhaps killing one or both of you, that is your affair; but my interest lies here: you are both under engagement to me, and if this duel is to come off, I and the public have a right to participate. It must be duly advertised, and must take place on the stage of the Lecture Room. No performance of yours would be a greater attraction, and if you kill each other, our engagement can end with your duel."
This proposition, made in apparent earnest, so delighted the giants that they at once burst into a laugh, shook hands, and quarreled no more.
From giants to dwarfs. None of Barnum's attractions has been more famous than "Tom Thumb." The story of his discovery and engagement is dated in November, 1842. Barnum was then at Bridgeport, Conn. One day he heard that there belonged in one of the families of the place a phenomenally small child, and he got his brother, Philo F. Barnum, to bring the little fellow to his hotel. "He was," Barnum afterward said, "not two feet high; he weighed less than sixteen pounds, and was the smallest child I ever saw that could walk alone; he was a perfectly formed bright-eyed little fellow, with light hair and ruddy cheeks, and he enjoyed the best of health. He was exceedingly bashful, but after some coaxing, he was induced to talk with me, and he told me that he was the son of Sherwood E. Stratton, and that his own name was Charles S. Stratton. After seeing him and talking with him, I at once determined to secure his services from his parents and to exhibit him in public. I engaged him for four weeks, at three dollars a week, with all traveling and boarding charges for himself and his mother at my expense. They came to New York Thanksgiving day, December 8th, 1842, and I announced the dwarf on my Museum bills as 'General Tom Thumb.' "
Barnum took the greatest pains to educate and train the diminutive prodigy, devoting many hours to the task by day and by night, and he was very successful, for the boy was an apt pupil, with a great deal of native talent, and a keen sense of the ludicrous. Barnum afterward re-engaged him for one year, at seven dollars a week with a gratuity of fifty dollars at the end of the engagement, and the privilege of exhibiting him anywhere in the United States, in which event his parents were to accompany him and Barnum was to pay all traveling expenses. He speedily became a public favorite, and long before the year was out, Barnum voluntarily increased his weekly salary to twenty-five dollars, and he fairly earned it.
For two years Barnum had been the owner of the Museum. He had enjoyed great prosperity. Long ago he had paid every dollar of the purchase-money out of the profits of the place. All rivals had been driven from the field. He was out of debt, and had a handsome balance in the bank. The experimental stage was passed, and the enterprise was an established success. It was, indeed, in such perfect order that Barnum felt safe in leaving it to his lieutenants, while he went forth to seek new realms of conquest. Accordingly he made an agreement for General Tom Thumb's services for another year, at fifty dollars a week and all expenses, with the privilege of exhibiting him in Europe. He proposed to test the curiosity of men and women on the other side of the Atlantic.
After arranging his business affairs for a long absence, and making every preparation for an extended foreign tour, on Thursday, January 18th, 1844, he went on board the new and fine sailing ship "Yorkshire," Captain D. G. Bailey, bound for Liverpool. The party included General Tom Thumb, his parents, his tutor, and Professor Guillaudeu, a French naturalist. They were accompanied by several personal friends, and the City Brass Band kindly volunteered to escort them to Sandy Hook.
They were met at Liverpool by a large crowd of sight-seers, who had been attracted thither by the fame of "Tom Thumb." The curiosity of the populace was not gratified, however, for Barnum had the child smuggled ashore unseen, under his mother's shawl.
"My letters of introduction," said the showman, many excellent families, and I was induced to hire a hall and present the General to the public, for a short season in Liverpool. I had intended to proceed directly to London, and begin operations at 'headquarters,' that is, in Buckingham Palace, if possible; but I had been advised that the royal family was in mourning for the death of Prince Albert's father, and would not permit the approach of any entertainments. Meanwhile, confidential letters from London informed me that Mr. Maddox, Manager of Princess's Theatre, was coming down to witness my exhibition, with a view to making an engagement. He came privately, but I was fully informed as to his presence and object. A friend pointed him out to me in the hall, and when I stepped up to him, and called him by name, he was 'taken all aback,' and avowed his purpose in visiting Liverpool. An interview resulted in an engagement of the General for three nights at Princess's Theatre. I was unwilling to contract for a longer period, and even this short engagement, though on liberal terms, was acceded to only as a means of advertisement. So soon, therefore, as I could bring my short, but highly successful, season in Liverpool to a close, we went to London."