At this time Bennett was ruling the managers of the theatres and other amusements with a rod of iron. He had established a large job printing office in connection with the Herald office; and woe to the manager who presumed to have his bills printed elsewhere. Any manager who dared to decline employing Bennett’s job office to print his small bills and posters, at Bennett’s exorbitant prices, was ignored in the Herald; his advertisements were refused, and generally, he and his establishment were black-balled and blackguarded in the columns of the Herald. Of course most of the managers were somewhat sensitive to such attacks, and therefore submitted to his impositions in the job office, his double price for newspaper advertisements, and any other overbearing conditions the Herald might choose to dictate. The advertisements of the Academy of Music, then under the direction of Mr. Max Maretzek, had been refused on account of some dissatisfaction in the Herald office in regard to free boxes, and also because the prima donna, Miss Clara Louise Kellogg, had certain ideas of her own with regard to social intercourse with certain people, as Miss Jenny Lind had with regard to the same people, when she was under my management, and to some degree under my advice, and these ideas were not particularly relished by the power behind the Herald throne.
For my own part, I thoroughly understood Bennett and his concern, and I never cared one farthing for him or his paper. I had seen for years, especially as Bennett’s enormously overestimated “influence” applied to public amusements, that whatever the Herald praised, sickened, drooped, and if the Herald persisted in praising it, finally died; while whatever the Herald attacked prospered, and all the more, the more it was abused. It was utterly impossible for Bennett to injure me, unless he had some more potent weapon than his Herald. And that this was the general opinion was quite evident from the fact that several years had elapsed since gentlemen were in the almost daily habit of cuffing, kicking and cowhiding Bennett in the streets and other public places for his scurrilous attacks upon them, or upon members of their families. It had come to be seen that what the Herald said, good or bad, was, like the editor himself, literally of “no account.”
My business for many years, as manager of the Museum and other public entertainments, compelled me to court notoriety; and I always found Bennett’s abuse far more remunerative than his praise, even if I could have had the praise at the same price, that is, for nothing. Especially was it profitable to me when I could be the subject of scores of lines of his scolding editorials free of charge, instead of paying him forty cents a line for advertisements, which would not attract a tenth part so much attention. Bennett had tried abusing me, off and on, for twenty years, on one occasion refusing my advertisement altogether for the space of about a year; but I always managed to be the gainer by his course. Now, however, when new difficulties threatened, all the leading managers in New York were members of the “Managers’ Association,” and as we all submitted to the arbitrary and extortionate demands of the Herald, Bennett thought he had but to crack his whip, in order to keep any and all of us within the traces. The great Ogre of the Herald supposed he could at all times frighten the little managerial boys into any holes which might be left open for them to hide in. Accordingly, one day Bennett’s attorney wrote me a letter, saying that he would like to have me call on him at his office the following morning. Not dreaming of the object I called as desired, and after a few pleasant commonplace remarks about the weather, and other trifles, the attorney said:
“Mr. Barnum, I have sent for you to say that Mr. Bennett has concluded not to purchase the museum lots, and therefore that you had better take back the lease, and return the $200,000 paid for it.”
“Are you in earnest?” I asked with surprise.
“Certainly, quite so,” he answered.
“Really,” I said, smiling, “I am sorry I can’t accommodate Mr. Bennett; I have not got the little sum about me; in fact, I have spent the money.”
“It will be better for you to take back the lease,” said the attorney seriously.
“Nonsense,” I replied, “I shall do nothing of the sort, I don’t make child’s bargains. The lease was cheap enough, but I have other business to attend to, and shall have nothing to do with it.”
The attorney said very little in reply; but I could see, by the almost benignant sorrow expressed upon his countenance, that he evidently pitied me for the temerity that would doubtless lead me into the jaws of the insatiable monster of the Herald. The next morning I observed that the advertisement of my entertainments with my Museum Company at Winter Garden was left out of the Herald columns. I went directly to the editorial rooms of the Herald; and learning that Bennett was not in, I said to Mr. Hudson, then managing editor: