CHAPTER XI
THE DWARFS’ DUEL, OR THE MARRIAGE OF THE MIDGETS
I
General Tom Thumb had exhibited himself throughout the United States on his own account with great success, and after Barnum had recovered from bankruptcy with his aid the General returned to his own management.
In December, 1861, a dwarf visited Barnum at the Museum, who promised to be a great success with the public. He was seventeen years old, twenty-nine inches high, and weighed twenty-four pounds. He had a well-shaped body, a pretty head, and the sharp tongue which is such an asset in a midget. His name was George Washington Morrison Nutt, and he was the son of Major Rodnia Nutt, a New Hampshire gentleman farmer. Barnum instructed an agent in New England to proceed immediately to Manchester, New Hampshire, and to offer Major Rodnia Nutt as much as $30,000 for the privilege of exhibiting his son for three years. In addition to this salary of $200 per week Barnum offered to pay all expenses of board, clothing, costumes and travel, as well as the expenses of any companion Major Nutt might select for his son. The dwarf was also to enjoy the profits of all the sales of books, pictures and autographs. This high offer is explained by the postscript of Barnum’s letter to his agent: “I hear that several showmen are after him. Nail him, and don’t let them get ahead of you. Get him on lower terms if you can. Get privilege of continuing engagement two years longer, if possible, on same terms. Payments always to be made weekly. P. T. B” Several other showmen wanted the services of George Washington Nutt, but none was able to offer $30,000, the price which Barnum was finally compelled to pay, and by reason of which the dwarf became popularly known as “The $30,000 Nutt.”
Barnum rechristened his new dwarf Commodore Nutt, after the manner of General Tom Thumb, and he was dressed in naval uniform. His presence at the Museum was proclaimed by large posters and newspaper advertisements, which brought immediate results. Two Shetland ponies, a miniature coachman and footman in livery, gold-mounted harness and elegant carriage in the shape of a huge English walnut, were Commodore Nutt’s properties. When he made his first appearances, Commodore Nutt resembled General Tom Thumb in his youth. Tom Thumb, meanwhile, had grown more portly, but many Museum patrons insisted that Commodore Nutt and General Tom Thumb were one and the same person, and that Barnum was a humbug. Tom Thumb was just then touring in the West. When the controversy had grown to proper dimensions, Barnum persuaded General Tom Thumb to return east and to exhibit at the Museum on the same platform with Commodore Nutt. In August, 1862, the rivals, advertised as “The Two Dromios,” appeared together. Many persons visited the Museum again to settle their doubts on this momentous question, and some of them went away convinced more than ever that it was all a deception. It was confidently stated by those who had visited General Tom Thumb in his childhood that Commodore Nutt was General Tom Thumb, and that the stout, small man labeled General Tom Thumb was a newcomer. The continued controversy increased receipts and delighted Barnum.
In 1862 Barnum visited Washington with Commodore Nutt, and they were received at the White House by President Lincoln. At the time Lincoln was busy with the Civil War, but he was interested in Barnum and his dwarf. When they called at the White House a special cabinet meeting was in progress, but Lincoln had left word that Barnum and the Commodore were to be shown in at once. They were introduced by Lincoln to the members of his cabinet, and when Commodore Nutt shook hands with Chase, Secretary of the Treasury, he remarked, “I suppose you are the gentleman who is spending so much of Uncle Sam’s money?” Stanton, Secretary of War, spoke up, claiming that credit, and the Commodore said, “Well, it is in a good cause, anyhow, and I guess it will come out all right.” Lincoln was pleased with this remark, and he bent his long body down to take the little Commodore’s hand, as he said: “Commodore, permit me to give you a parting word of advice. When you are in command of your fleet, if you find yourself in danger of being taken prisoner, I advise you to wade ashore.” “I guess, Mr. President, you could do that better than I could,” answered the Commodore, as he gradually looked up the long expanse of Lincoln’s legs.
As a contrast to the “Two Smallest Men and Greatest Curiosities Living,” Barnum engaged Anna Swan, the Nova Scotia giantess, who was seventeen years old and was supposed to be the tallest woman in the world. Her features were attractive, and in spite of her enormous size she was admired for her beauty. For many years she was a leading attraction at the Museum; later she married Colonel Bates, a giant, and they toured England with success.
In the same year, 1862, Barnum discovered another dwarf, a young girl, Lavinia Warren, who lived with her parents in Middleboro, Massachusetts. Lavinia Warren, whose name at baptism was Mercy Lavinia Warren Bumpus, was born October 31, 1841. She traced her pedigree to William, Earl of Warren, who married Gruneda, daughter of William the Conqueror. Lavinia had two older brothers and two older sisters, and they were all more than six feet tall. She had two younger brothers of normal size and a younger sister, Minnie Warren, who was also a dwarf. Lavinia’s father was six feet in height, and her mother was a tall woman. After she was ten years old she stopped growing, and at that time was twenty-four inches high and weighed twenty pounds. She went to school in Middleboro and was taught housework by her mother. Throughout her girlhood she lived the life of a normal person; she was extremely sensitive about her abnormality and determined that it must not make any difference. She studied hard, and at the age of sixteen became a school teacher in the Middleboro school, where she was always able to maintain proper discipline in spite of her size. She was satisfied with this occupation for life. Then a cousin, who was a traveling showman, visited the Bumpus house and suggested that Lavinia should travel with his show. She was eager to see the country, and, after gaining the reluctant permission of her parents, she went West with her cousin, whose show was located on board a Mississippi River boat that stopped for exhibitions at all important towns on the river. During her travels Lavinia Warren met General Grant and Stephen A. Douglas. The latter tried to kiss her, but she was conscious of her womanhood and drew back with becoming modesty. Douglas did not bother her further.
Barnum heard of Lavinia Warren in 1862, and he engaged her for several years, including the privilege of a foreign tour. Before exhibiting Lavinia Warren at the Museum, Barnum placed her in a suite at the Fifth Avenue Hotel, where she was visited by fashionable society and popular Civil War generals, including the Vanderbilts and the Astors and Generals McClellan, Burnside, Rosecrans and McPherson. Barnum purchased jewels and an elaborate wardrobe for Lavinia, and when society admirers had stimulated general curiosity sufficiently, he exhibited her to the public at the Museum.
II
When Lavinia Warren exhibited at Barnum’s American Museum, the spectacle of “The Two Dromios” had ended; General Tom Thumb was on a vacation in Bridgeport, his home, and Commodore Nutt was the only other dwarf at the Museum. The Commodore was about five years younger than Lavinia Warren, but age has never acted as a check on affection, and in this respect at least these midgets did not differ from ordinary men and women, for it was not long before Commodore Nutt was fascinated. Lavinia Warren was well-mannered, demure, intelligent, and she had pretty pink cheeks. The Commodore was a sprightly, gay boy of seventeen, whose susceptibility to a woman’s charm seemed in no way limited by his size.
Among the many presents of jewelry which Barnum made to Lavinia for her use in her exhibitions was a small ring, which was still too large for her tiny fingers. Barnum, inadvertently, suggested that she give it to the Commodore as a present. The Commodore was delighted; he regarded the ring as a token that his obvious interest was reciprocated. Lavinia was uneasy, for, as she confided to Barnum, she could only regard the Commodore as “a nice boy,” while she considered herself a serious-minded woman; had she not taught school? She continued to treat the Commodore kindly, but she refused to encourage his attentions.
Meanwhile, General Tom Thumb was spending his time in Bridgeport with his ponies and his yacht, which were his favorite sources of amusement since he had come of age. He visited New York one day and dropped in to see his friend Mr. Barnum at the Museum. He was introduced to Lavinia Warren, and after chatting pleasantly with her for a short time the General hurried to Barnum’s private office. As soon as they were alone, he asked Barnum for detailed information about Lavinia and her family. Tom Thumb looked up at his friend earnestly and said with emphasis in his diminutive treble voice, “Mr. Barnum, that is the most charming little lady I ever saw, and I believe she was created on purpose to be my wife!” There was a pause. Barnum refused to express any opinion on this statement. “Now, Mr. Barnum,” the General continued, “you’ve always been a friend of mine, and I want you to say a good word for me to her. I’ve got plenty of money, and I want to marry and settle down. I really feel as though I _must_ marry that young lady.”
The little General was excited, but determined. Barnum was amused, and, indulging his inordinate love of a pun,--and that pun in particular, since he had already used it once on Jenny Lind,--he said, “Lavinia is already engaged, General.” “To whom? Commodore Nutt?” the General asked with suspicion and jealousy in his voice. “No,” said Barnum, “to me.” The General was immensely relieved, and he insisted that Barnum’s contract must not interfere with his happiness. “I hope you will favor my suit with her?” he asked. “Well, General,” Barnum said, “I will not oppose you in your suit, but you must do your own courting. But I tell you, Commodore Nutt will be jealous of you, and, more than that, Miss Warren is nobody’s fool. You will have to be careful, if you want to succeed.”
The General was confident and active. He abandoned his yacht and neglected his ponies. Much of his time was now spent at his sister’s house in New York City, and every day he visited the Museum for pleasure. Commodore Nutt grew jealous, and he resented the General’s frequent intrusions. When the rivals were left alone in the Museum dressing-rooms one day, the Commodore laid the General flat on his back, for the Commodore was wiry and alert, while the General, who was eight years older, was portly and slow. Although physically the General was at a disadvantage, in his courtship he had the advantages of a man of wealth and leisure over at person who must work every day for his living. While Commodore Nutt was entertaining the Museum patrons, General Tom Thumb was entertaining Lavinia Warren. Sundays and evenings, when Lavinia was at leisure and the Commodore was not present, the General chatted shyly with her, and by his constant presence he indubitably established in her mind the reason for it. Finally, satisfied that he had made discreet and sufficient progress, General Tom Thumb returned to his neglected family in Bridgeport. But before he left New York he begged Barnum to invite Lavinia Warren to the Barnum house in Bridgeport for the week-end. He wanted his mother to meet Lavinia.
On the following Friday, when the Commodore and Lavinia were sitting in the Museum Green-Room, Barnum said, “Lavinia, would you like to go up to Bridgeport with me to-morrow and stay until Monday?” “Thank you,” she said, “it will be a great relief to get into the country for a couple of days.” “Mr. Barnum,” said the Commodore, “_I_ should like to go up to Bridgeport to-morrow.” “What for?” asked Barnum innocently. “I want to see my ponies; I haven’t seen them for several months.” Barnum was afraid that he could not spare both Lavinia and the Commodore from the Museum, he said. But the Commodore insisted that he could perform at half-past seven Saturday night and catch the eight o’clock train for Bridgeport. Barnum did not wish to lose the Commodore’s friendship, and Lavinia did not seem to object to his company at the week-end party. Barnum confessed that he knew nothing of Lavinia’s opinion of the rivals. At the time he believed that she wished the presence of the Commodore to prevent a declaration by the General, but she confided nothing to him.
General Tom Thumb waited with his best coach at the Bridgeport railroad station on Saturday morning. The coachman was dressed up for the occasion with a broad velvet ribbon and a new silver buckle on his hat. The General drove Barnum and Lavinia to Barnum’s house, and then he took Lavinia for a drive. Stopping with her for a few minutes at his own house, he showed her the rooms which his father had ordered to be constructed midget size, and also showed her the gorgeous diminutive furniture which filled those rooms. Then he drove with her to East Bridgeport and pointed out his real estate. At luncheon he was delighted when Lavinia, in answer to Barnum’s question about her drive, said: “It was very pleasant; it seems as if you and Tom Thumb own about all of Bridgeport.”
The General returned to Barnum’s house for dinner, and he brought his mother along. She did not yet know that her son intended matrimony, but she was delighted with Lavinia Warren. Taking Barnum aside, the General asked for an invitation to spend the night at “Lindencroft,” Barnum’s new Bridgeport residence. “I intend,” he explained, “to ask her to marry me before the Commodore arrives.”
After dinner Lavinia and General Tom Thumb played backgammon. At nine o’clock Barnum yawned ostentatiously and said he would like to retire, but that some one must wait up for the Commodore. General Tom Thumb volunteered, “if Miss Warren will remain also.” Lavinia explained that she was used to late hours, and the two dwarfs waited for the third. The Barnum family retired, excepting two young girls, who had been told of the situation, and who were interested in its dénouement. They took up positions on the hall stairway, where they could watch and listen in darkness. It is to their curiosity that we are indebted, via Barnum, for the detailed report of what happened that evening.
Backgammon grew tiresome, and the General finally suggested that they had had enough. There were a few minutes of meditative silence. Then the General drew from his small, inside coat pocket a large, much-folded paper, and, handing it to Lavinia, he asked her if she knew what that was. “It is an insurance policy,” she said. “I see you keep your property insured.” “But the beauty of it is,” said the General with a cunning smile, “it is not my property. And yet I get the benefit of the insurance in case of fire.” He unfolded the large insurance policy, and the two little heads bent over its wide expanse. “You will see,” the General demonstrated, “that this is the property of Mr. Williams. But here, you will notice, it reads, ‘Loss, if any, payable to Charles S. Stratton, as his interest may appear.’ The fact is, I loaned Mr. Williams three thousand dollars, took a mortgage on his house, and made him insure it for my benefit. In this way, you see, I get my interest, and he has to pay the taxes,” he wound up triumphantly.
“That is a very wise way, I should think,” Lavinia said.
“That is the way I do all my business,” the General answered, and he returned the large insurance policy to his pocket. “You see, I never lend any of my money without taking bond and mortgage securities, then I never have any trouble with taxes; my principal is secure, and I receive my interest regularly.” Thus any one, and especially Lavinia, could see what a smart little, rich little man he was. This exposition, and the romantic morning drive around the real estate, made his point.
He drew his chair closer. “So you are going to Europe soon,” he said, although the fact was well known to both of them.
“Yes,” Lavinia answered. “Mr. Barnum intends to take me over in a couple of months.”
“You will find it very pleasant,” Tom Thumb said, “I have been there twice; in fact, I have spent six years abroad, and I like the old countries very much.”
“I hope I shall like the trip, and I expect I shall,” said Lavinia. “Mr. Barnum says I shall visit all the principal cities, and he has no doubt I will be invited to appear before the Queen of England, the Emperor and Empress of France, the King of Prussia, the Emperor of Austria, and at the courts of any other countries we may visit. Oh! I shall like that; it will be so new to me!”
“Yes, it will be very interesting, indeed. I have visited most of the crowned heads,” said the small man of the world. “But don’t you think you’ll be lonesome in a strange country?” he asked anxiously. Lavinia did not think she would be lonesome. “I wish I was going over,” Tom Thumb said. “I know all about the different countries, and I could explain them all to you.”
“That would be very nice,” Lavinia admitted.
“Do you think so?” He moved his chair closer.
“Of course,” she said calmly, without emphasis. “It would be pleasant to have some one along who could answer all my foolish questions.”
“I should like it first-rate, if Mr. Barnum would engage me,” said the General.
“I thought you said the other day you had money enough and were tired of traveling,” Lavinia said, slyly teasing him.
“That depends upon my company while traveling,” said the General, gallant and bold.
“You might not find my company very agreeable,” suggested Lavinia.
“I would be glad to risk it,” said the General.
“Well, perhaps Mr. Barnum would engage you if you asked him.”
“Would you really like to have me go?” the General asked, as he insinuated his arm around the back of the chair. He did not dare to touch her yet.
“Of course I would,” she said gently.
The General’s arm boldly encircled her small waist, and he turned her towards him. “Don’t you think it would be nicer if we went as man and wife?” Lavinia was surprised, and she removed the General’s arm. When questioned further, she said that she did think it was all very sudden, but the General did not agree with her. He finally argued away her doubts with a kiss, and she consented to marry him if her mother granted permission.
A few minutes later a carriage drove up, and the bell rang. Commodore Nutt entered. “You here, General?” he asked gruffly.
“Yes,” Lavinia answered for him. “Mr. Barnum asked him to stay the night, and we were waiting for you.”
“Where is Mr. Barnum?” asked the Commodore.
“He has gone to bed, but a supper has been prepared for you,” Tom Thumb said.
“I am not hungry, thank you,” said the Commodore brusquely. “What room does Mr. Barnum sleep in?” He was told, and he went up to see Barnum, who was reading in bed.
“Mr. Barnum,” the Commodore asked, “does Tom Thumb _board_ here?”
“No,” said Barnum. “Tom Thumb does not _board_ here. I invited him to stop over night, so don’t be foolish, but go to bed.”
“Oh, it’s no affair of mine; I don’t care anything about it. Only I thought he’d taken up his residence here.” And he went off to bed, but not to sleep.
Ten minutes later Tom Thumb rushed into Barnum’s room. “We’re engaged, Mr. Barnum! We’re engaged! What do you think of that!”
“Is that possible?” asked Barnum.
“Yes, sir, indeed it is, but you mustn’t mention it. We’ve agreed to tell no one, so don’t say a word. I’m going to ask her mother’s consent Tuesday.”[17]
The next day, Sunday, Lavinia said nothing about the event of Saturday night. She treated Commodore Nutt with her usual cordiality, and as General Tom Thumb went home early in the morning, the Commodore was once more in good humor, for, although he was suspicious, he was still uncertain of the exact extent of the General’s progress. On Sunday evening the General had a short conversation with Lavinia, and that night Lavinia and the Commodore went back to New York together. There is no report of their conversation on the train.
The General sent a good friend to Lavinia’s mother, with a letter, and the friend also urged the suit personally. On the following Wednesday the General went to New York, where he waited in Lavinia’s company for her mother’s answer. Both of them entered Barnum’s private office Wednesday afternoon, and Tom Thumb said: “Mr. Barnum, I want somebody to tell the Commodore that Lavinia and I are engaged, for I’m afraid there will be a row when he hears about it.” “Do it yourself, General,” was Barnum’s suggestion. “Oh, I wouldn’t dare do it,” said Tom Thumb. “He might knock me down!” “I will do it myself,” Lavinia decided.
The General retired, and Barnum sent for Commodore Nutt. When the Commodore entered, Barnum said: “Commodore, do you know what this little witch has been doing?” The Commodore had no idea. “Well, she has been cutting up one of the greatest pranks you ever heard of. She almost deserves to be shut up for daring to do it. Can’t you guess what she has done?”
He looked at Barnum in silence for a moment, and then in a low, trembling voice, he said, looking full at Lavinia, “Engaged?”
“Yes,” said Barnum, “actually engaged to be married to General Tom Thumb. Did you ever hear of such a thing?”
“Is it so, Lavinia?” the Commodore asked earnestly.
“Yes, it is really so,” said Lavinia.
The Commodore turned weak and pale. He choked, turned on his tiny heel, and when he got to the door, he just managed to say in a broken voice, “I hope you may be happy.”
“That’s pretty hard,” Barnum said to Lavinia.
“I am very sorry,” said Lavinia, “but I could not help it. That diamond and emerald ring you asked me to give him caused all the trouble.” Lavinia Warren was placing too much responsibility on a small ring.
Half an hour after Barnum told him the news, Commodore Nutt returned to the private office. “Mr. Barnum,” he asked, “do you think it would be right for Miss Warren to marry Charlie Stratton if her mother should object?” “No, indeed,” said Barnum. “Well, she says she will marry him anyway; that she gives her mother the chance to consent, but if she objects, she will have her way and marry him.” Barnum reassured the Commodore. He would not permit such disobedience, he said, and if Mrs. Warren objected to the match, Barnum intended to put an end to it by insisting on the terms of the contract with Lavinia and taking her to Europe immediately. The Commodore was joyful. “Between you and me, Mr. Barnum,” he said, “I don’t believe she will consent.” But the Commodore was wrong. Mrs. Warren consented, but only after she was convinced that the match was not prompted by Barnum for the purpose of making money.
When the Commodore’s last hope was destroyed, Barnum, endeavoring to comfort him, said, “Never mind, Commodore, Minnie Warren is a better match for you anyhow. She is two years younger than you, and Lavinia is older.” “Thank you, sir, but I would not marry the best woman living. I don’t believe in women,” was the Commodore’s reply.
Barnum suggested that Commodore Nutt act as best man at the wedding, with Minnie Warren as bridesmaid. The Commodore refused without giving any reason. A few weeks later he told Barnum that Charlie Stratton had asked him to act as best man, and that he had accepted. “And when I asked you, you refused,” said Barnum. “It was not your business to ask me,” the Commodore answered. “When the proper person asked me, I accepted.”
III
The public announcement of the forthcoming wedding of General Tom Thumb and Lavinia Warren created great popular excitement. The levees held at the Museum daily by Lavinia Warren were crowded beyond the capacity of the space, and she sold daily three hundred dollars’ worth of photographs of herself. The receipts at the Museum were more than $3,000 each day, and Barnum offered General Tom Thumb, who was on exhibition with his fiancée, $15,000 if he would postpone the wedding for one month and continue the joint appearances. “No, sir,” the General said excitedly, “not for fifty thousand dollars!” “Good for you, Charlie,” said Lavinia, “only you should have said one hundred thousand.”
Barnum’s profits were so large that he could well afford a fine wedding. He determined to make it a grand occasion, because he wanted to do the right thing by his exceptional wards, he tells us, but he was also doing a good thing for his Museum. Many accused Barnum of having arranged this diminutive marriage on a large scale as an advertisement. “Had I done this,” he wrote later, “I should at this day have felt no regrets, for it has proved, in an eminent degree, one of the ‘happy marriages.’” But he did not arrange the attachment General Tom Thumb felt for Lavinia Warren, and it is probable that the match was for him a financial loss, because it meant the end of his lucrative contract with Lavinia Warren and the renunciation of a European tour which would have brought him large profits.
It was suggested to Barnum that he hire the Academy of Music and charge admission to the wedding ceremony. But that impressed even Barnum with its lack of dignity; there was always something sacred to him about any church ceremony, which aroused his sense of propriety as nothing else could. He had promised the couple a respectable wedding, and he intended to see that they had one. Preparations were made for one of the most imposing social events of the time. Two thousand invitations were issued to New York’s notorieties, plutocrats and celebrities. As much as sixty dollars was offered for one of these private invitations, but none was sold by Barnum.
The _Herald_ printed a long protest against Barnum’s part in the wedding. The motive for it is difficult to understand, for Mr. and Mrs. James Gordon Bennett were among the invited guests, and Mrs. Bennett sent the couple a miniature silver tea set. The _Herald_ wrote:
“The American press and public have been exceedingly lenient with Barnum. They have allowed him to make money by humbugging innocent people, and more money by selling a book telling how well his humbugs have succeeded. Recently, however, he has taken altogether too bold an advantage of this leniency. Having secured a dwarf woman, he has been exhibiting her at the Museum for some time past as the betrothed of another dwarf, called General Tom Thumb. How this match was arranged, we do not care to know; but we are informed that it is to be consummated at Grace Church to-morrow with all the display of a fashionable wedding. Of course, we have no objections to the marriage, and no desire to forbid the bans. Miss Warren is a woman and Tom Thumb is a man, no matter how small they may be, and they have as good a right to be wedded as any other man and woman. This will be by no means the first time that dwarfs have been married and lived happily ever after. We do object, however, to Barnum’s share in the transaction, and particularly to his attempt to make money by the public exhibition of the intended bride and all the paraphernalia....
“By his connection with this miniature marriage, Barnum has injured himself sadly in the estimation of virtuous people. There is such a thing as going a little too far even with patrons so indulgent as Americans. The marriage vows ought not to be trifled with for the interest of a showman. The exhibition of Miss Warren at the Museum, the display of Miss Warren’s wedding dress, Tom Thumb’s wedding shirt, Miss Warren’s wedding shoes, and Tom Thumb’s wedding stockings in store windows on Broadway, and all the other details of Barnum’s management of this matter, are offensive to delicacy, decorum, modesty and good taste. Why should men and women be so much more eager to see Miss Warren after she was engaged to Tom Thumb than before? What class of ideas did Barnum appeal to when he advertised her engagement so extensively? One had only to listen to the conversation of silly countrymen and countrywomen as they stood gaping at the ‘little Queen of Beauty,’ or to open his ears to the numerous jokes in circulation upon the subject, in order to receive a sufficient answer to these questions. What Barnum will do when the wedding is over nobody can tell. Doubtless he intends to exhibit the couple after the marriage ceremony. There will be a crowd to see the little people married, and certainly there would be a greater crowd to see them encouched, as the princes and princesses of France were exhibited during old monarchical times. We advise Barnum not to attempt this, however. He has already overstepped all ordinary barriers, and must be satisfied. Those persons who have encouraged him by their wish to see Miss Warren and her dry goods have our sincere compassion. We hope that the wedding will pass off pleasantly to-morrow, and that no speculating Barnum will henceforward overshadow the happy pair.”
There was a part of the population who visited the Museum in order to comment lasciviously on this unusual engagement and its probable results, but this could hardly be blamed on Barnum. There was a larger part of those present who visited the couple because to them a marriage between two “cute” personalities was a “cute” spectacle, and it was for this effect that Barnum was undoubtedly striving. He had never before in his career catered to the propensities towards lewdness inherent in men and women, and he never did so again; there is no reason to believe that by this wedding he wished to attract those interested in abnormal sex suggestions. The _Herald’s_ contention, based as it was on the deep-rooted antagonism of James Gordon Bennett to Barnum’s personality, was far-fetched, to say the least.
The wedding of General Tom Thumb and Lavinia Warren took place at Grace Church, Tuesday, February 10, 1863, when the General was twenty-five years old, and his bride twenty-two. The governors of several states, members of Congress, army generals, millionaires, and men and women of old New York ancestry were the spectators. President Lincoln and his wife sent the couple a “gorgeous set of Chinese fire screens.” Mrs. Cornelius Vanderbilt gave them “a coral and gold-set brooch, ear-rings and studs of the finest workmanship,” and Mrs. August Belmont sent “a splendid set of silver chaste charms.”
The neighborhood of Grace Church was crowded as if for a public procession, and people waited hours for the privilege of seeing the diminutive bride and groom enter the church. The invited guests were attired in full dress, and the women wore what a contemporary called “opera costume.” In front of the altar a platform three feet high had been erected and covered with Brussels carpet in order that the little couple could be seen and could see.
At noon Barnum and the bridal party arrived at the church, followed by Commodore Nutt and Miss Minnie Warren. General Tom Thumb had respectfully applied to Bishop Potter to perform the ceremony, and the Bishop had consented, but pressure was brought to bear on his sense of propriety, and he finally decided that it would be better for him to take back his promise. Two clergymen read the services, and Mr. Morgan played operatic selections on the church organ.
After the marriage was performed, the wedding party drove to the Metropolitan Hotel, where thousands of enthusiastic citizens were waiting for them. A reception was held in the hotel parlors, and so great was the confusion resulting in the effort to reach the couple, who were mounted on another dais, that it was necessary to shut the doors. Lavinia Warren in white satin, the skirt decorated with a flounce of “costly point lace,” with a long train, bowed and smiled from her platform. She also wore “_tulle_ puffings,” and “a _berthe_ to match.” Her hair was waved and “rolled _à la Eugenie_, elaborately puffed in _noeuds_ behind, in which the bridal veil was looped.” “Natural orange blossoms breathed their perfume above her brow,” wrote an observer, “and mingled their fragrance with the soft sighs of her gentle bosom.” Tom Thumb and Commodore Nutt were in full dress suits with white corded silk vests and blue silk undervests.
At three o’clock in the afternoon two thousand boxes of wedding cake were distributed, and the wedding presents were placed on exhibition in the hotel parlors. In the evening the couple were serenaded by the New York Excelsior Band, and General Tom Thumb made a speech of thanks from one of the balconies of the Metropolitan Hotel.
Strenuous objections were made by some of the Grace Church pewholders against the clergymen who allowed the church to be devoted to what one of them described as “a marriage of mountebanks, which I would not take the trouble to cross the street to witness.” But this indignant pewholder wanted to know why he had been excluded on that day from his pew. The Rev. Dr. Taylor, the responsible clergyman, replied that the wedding had been private, decorous and beautiful, and that it was not possible for him to refuse the church to any couple so long as no admission charge was asked. But the protests continued, and an attempt was also made to blackmail Barnum. Soon after the wedding a woman called at the Museum and showed him a copy of a pamphlet called “Priests and Pigmies.” She said that she intended to issue this pamphlet, which she assured him said some frightful things about him, unless he wished to purchase the copyright for a large sum. Barnum laughed and said: “My dear madam, you may say what you please about me or about my Museum; you may print a hundred thousand copies of a pamphlet stating that I stole the communion service, after the wedding, from Grace Church altar, or anything else you choose to write; only have the kindness to say something about me, and then come to me, and I will properly estimate the money value of your services to me as an advertising agent. Good morning, madam.”
In the course of their honeymoon, General Tom Thumb and Mrs. Tom Thumb visited Lincoln at the White House, where he gave a dinner and reception for them. Lincoln liked Lavinia because her face resembled his wife’s. The dwarfs retired from public life for a few months, but soon they were weary of their privacy, and together with Minnie Warren and Commodore Nutt they toured Europe for three years.
Several times it was rumored that Commodore Nutt and Minnie Warren were married. Barnum met the Commodore after his return from Europe. “Are you married yet, Commodore?” Barnum asked. “No, sir; my fruit is plucked,” he answered. “You don’t mean to say you will never marry?” “No, not exactly,” was the Commodore’s reply, “but I have decided not to marry until I am thirty.” “I suppose you intend to marry one of your size,” Barnum hinted. “I am not particular in that respect,” said the Commodore. “I think I should prefer marrying a good, green country girl to anybody else.” But when he died in 1881 at the age of thirty-three, he was still a bachelor.
It was said that the Commodore became “a fast young man” after his disappointment, and when he made advances to Minnie Warren, she refused him because of his past. In 1874 Major Newell, known as General Grant, Jr., was added to the troupe of famous dwarfs. The Major and Minnie were married in 1877. In July 1878, a baby was about to be born to them. Neighbors in Middleboro, Massachusetts, where they lived with General and Mrs. Tom Thumb, saw Minnie cutting baby clothes from doll patterns, one-sixth the size of ordinary baby clothes. A girl was born and died four hours later. Minnie died of exhaustion soon afterwards. At birth the baby weighed five pounds, ten ounces. Major Newell later went to England, where he was very popular. He married an Englishwoman of normal size, and when he died at the age of sixty he left a widow and two children.
General Tom Thumb and Mrs. Tom Thumb had one child, who died of inflammation of the brain two and a half years after her birth. The General and his wife, together with the other dwarfs, visited Queen Victoria, Napoleon III and the Empress Eugénie, Pius IX, Victor Emmanuel and William I, of Germany. When they toured England in 1865, the tax assessors estimated the receipts at between ten and twenty thousand pounds a year. In 1872 they made a tour of the world with Commodore Nutt and Minnie Warren, visiting Australia, China and Japan, as well as the principal European countries. When they arrived in Japan, General Tom Thumb and Sylvester Bleecker, who managed the tour and wrote a book about it, visited one of the famous mixed bathing pools, where men and women bathe together without the formality of clothes. “Mr. Bleecker,” said General Tom Thumb, “if we tell this to the folks at home, they will not believe us; but it is _so_! Men and women bathing together with not a rag upon them, and they don’t mind it a bit! Write and let P. T. [Barnum] know what we have seen. If he had that place, just as it is--men, women and children, all in the United States, it would be the biggest show he ever had.”
When he was young, according to Barnum, General Tom Thumb was miserly, and he spent no penny that could be avoided. In later life he spent thousands of dollars on yachts, horses and precious stones. Before leaving for Europe he asked Barnum to sell his sailing yacht and buy him a steam yacht for thirty or forty thousand dollars. In his letter he explained that when he was not using it, his crew could use it to tug vessels in and out of Bridgeport harbor, and thus pay their own wages and eventually the entire cost of the yacht. His tastes ran along conventional American lines: after he was eighteen years old the General smoked cigars regularly, and a few years later he became a third-degree Mason. General Tom Thumb’s dimensions made very little inward difference to his character. He was very much a man of the world as soon as he was old enough to think. It was his body that he sold to the public, and it was his body that he always comforted; it is doubtful if he had much of a soul. Between him and the Bridgeport business man there were no essential differences, if we disregard for the moment the all important difference in size. And it was this similarity to the normal business man, the seemingly incongruous fact that in spite of his size he thought and acted like any one else, that made his appeal as a curiosity so great. His dumpy, portly figure, straight wisps of beard, thin, irregular mustache, and sharp, stern eyes, give the impression of a wistful caricature of the American man of business. And when he died at the age of forty-five, on July 15, 1883, he was buried with the ritual of the Free and Accepted Masons.
Not long after the General’s death Mrs. Tom Thumb married Count Primo Magri, an Italian dwarf, who received his title of nobility from Pope Pius IX. Count Magri, with his brother, Baron Ernesto Magri, traveled with General and Mrs. Tom Thumb. The General had spent too much money on yachts and horses, and Mrs. Tom Thumb was not rich when her husband died. After many years of exhibiting with her second husband, they kept a general store for automobile tourists in Middleboro, Massachusetts. The store was called “Primo’s Pastime,” and was open only in the summer, when the proprietor and his wife were not exhibiting at Coney Island.
Mrs. Tom Thumb died at the age of seventy-seven on November 25, 1919. In order to get money enough to return to Italy Count Magri was compelled to sell his wife’s effects, which brought only $300. On October 31, 1920, he died at Middleboro, aged seventy-one, and he was buried by the Grand Rapids, Michigan, Lodge of the Benevolent and Protective Order of Elks.