Explanatory Notes        Apparatus Notes ()

Source: Harry Ransom Humanities Research Center, University of Texas, Austin ([TxU-Hu])

Cue: "I have been"

Source format: "MS"

Letter type: "[standard letter]"

Notes:

Last modified:

Revision History: AB

Published on MTPO: 2007

Print Publication: v6

MTPDocEd
To P. T. Barnum
3 February 1875 • Hartford, Conn. (MS: TxU-Hu, UCCL 01188)
slc                        farmington avenue, hartford.
My Dear Barnum:1explanatory note

I have been on the sick list a couple of weeks, else I would not have been so long answering your letter.

I couldn’t write the article, anyway, for any price, because it is out of my line; & you know, better than any other man, that success in life depends strictly upon one’s sticking to his line.2explanatory note

But of all the amazing shows that ever were conceived of, I think this of yours must surely take the lead! I hardly know which to wonder at most—its stupendousness, or the pluck of the man who has dared to venture upon so vast an enterprise. I mean to come to see the show,— but to me you are the biggest marvel connected with it, after all.3explanatory note

Sincerely Yours
Sam. L. Clemens

letter docketed by Barnum: Mark Twain | Hartford and p. t. barnum. bridgeport, ct. mar 26 1875

Textual Commentary
Source text(s):

MS, Harry Ransom Humanities Research Center, University of Texas, Austin (TxU-Hu).

Previous Publication:

L6 , 368–71; Parke-Bernet 1938, lot 48, excerpt.

Explanatory Notes
1 

Barnum (1810–91) had long since established himself as the most flamboyant showman of his age, beginning with his American Museum of curios, which opened in New York in 1842, and extending to his “Greatest Show on Earth,” a touring circus and menagerie, which opened in 1871. He probably first met Clemens in February 1872. Both men were in England at the end of 1873 and the beginning of 1874, but no meeting there has been documented ( L5 , 40 n. 1, 476; Saxon, 245–49). The present letter is the first of Clemens’s letters to Barnum known to survive. It answered the following letter (CU-MARK):

waldemere, bridgeport. ct.

My dear Clemens

Yours recd I hope I sent you the letter from the man who was going on a lecturing tower!

I have heretofore destroyed a multitude of queer letters but henceforth will save them all for you.

I wonder if you have ever seen my great Hippodrome. If not I really hope you will have a chance to do so during the week or two that it will remain open. I enclose several “orders” to that end.

I’ll not disguise that I have a small axe or hatchet to grind—though if you take hold of it, it would soon swell to an immense tree-chopping implement. But if you dont happen to take to it, understand I shall be quite content—I merely throw out the hint as one “casts his bread upon the waters”—if it dont “return” I’ll be just as well off as if I had not tried for a small harvest.

Your comet article in the Herald last year wherein you had me for an active partner of course added much to my notoriety at home and abroad—now my “axe” is that if you should happen to be in a writing mood and could in your inimitable way hit my travelling Hippodrome so that people could get an idea what is coming next spring & summer, it would help me, but I neither ask nor expect nor desire such a thing unless it so happens that in the way of your literary labors you can make the Hippodrome the subject of a portion of your article. Such an article in Harpers Weekly would be immense and of course proportionately so in any other publication. My object is to reach country readers where my Hippodrome will travel next summer. If you cant bring it into your regular work—I shall be very glad to pay you the same as you would want from any publisher & I’ll have the article inserted in some paper & then mail marked copies of it to every paper in the Union. You cant well get a good idea of Hippodrome without seeing it—but I’ll herein sketch a little about it.

My daily expenses in New York are nearly $5000. They will be more than that while travelling. Last August I had an immense tent made over 800 feet long by 400 broad and transported it to Boston where I built seats to accommodate 11000 persons & I transported my entire Hippodrome to Boston. There were over 900 1200 men women & children engaged by me—750 horses—including 300 blooded race horses & ponies—camels—elephants Buffaloes—English stag and stag hounds ostriches, &c. &c {Don’t mention menagerie of lions tigers & other wild beasts for I dont take them travelling with Hippodrome.}

Now the cost of tent, seats and transporting the entire Hippodrome & paraphernalia to Boston by rail was over $50,000—and yet though I was in Boston but 3 weeks, I was fully reimbursed and had a handsome surplus. We accommodated over 20,000 persons to our two performances each day and frequently turned away visitors for want of room. Cheap excursion trains ran daily on all the roads leading into Boston—and thousands daily came in them.

Now by having two of these 800 feet tents—so as to keep one continually a day ahead I shall next summer take the entire Hippodrome on 125 rail road cars of my own, to all the larger towns in New England and the middle & western states—frequently stopping but one day in a town. I can easily lose half a million of dollars next summer unless I can in advance so awaken and electrify the country as to have everybody join in getting up excursion trains so as to hit me where I open the Hippodrome. If I can do this I can make half a million—so it is a pretty big stake to play for—hence my anxiety. I take along sleeping cars wherein nearly all my 900 1200 employees lodge every night—(I put up berths in ordinary passenger cars) and I take along cooks and cooking tents where all except 150 of my 900 1200 employees get every meal they eat during the travelling season. Horse tents also accommodate my horses—elephants, camels &c. I carry blacksmiths & blacksmith tents to do all my horse shoeing repairing of chariots wagons &c. I also carry harness makers. I carry carpenters and builders who precede the show ten days to build the seats. I carry ward robe men and women to repair and care for the wardrobe which has cost me over $70,000—and which I use in processions and all the various plays scenes and the great street procession which occurs every morning. I take two immense Bands of Music—first class.

My Hippodromic exhibitions include the Roman Chariot races and many other acts that were shown in the Roman Colosseum 1600 years ago and on a scale that has not been witnessed in this world during the last thousand years. My Roman Chariots are driven by Amazons instead of men!

But I show besides scores of thrillingly interesting scenes which Rome never saw. I give a scene called INDIAN LIFE ON THE PLAINS wherein scores of Indians of various tribes appear with their squaws pappooses ponies and wigwams travelling as they do in the Indian territory. They encamp—erect their wigwams engage in Buffalo Hunts with real Buffaloes, give their Indian war dances—their Indian pony races—snow shoe races—foot races against horses lasso horses and other animals and both Indians and squaws give the most amazing specimens of riding at full speed. The Indian Camp is surprised by Mexicans and then ensues such a scene of savage strife and warfare as is never seen except upon our wild western borders.

The great English Stag hunt wherein 150 ladies and gentlemen appear on horseback all dressed in appropriate hunting costumes—with the English stags and a large pack of real English stag hounds depicts a scene worth going a hundred miles to see.

Then of course we have Hurdle races by ladies—Roman standing races (the riders standing on bareback horses). Flat races by English American and French jockeys, with the best blooded race horses to be found in Europe Races by Camels ridden by Arabs—Elephant races—Liberty races by 40 wild horses turned loose Ostrich races—monkey races and the most remarkable performances by Elephants and other animals. Taken altogether this is a Colossal travelling exhibition never before equalled, and what no other man in this generation will ever dare to wish. It involves a capital of nearly a million of dollars. My expectation is to take it all to Europe next autumn, for it will prove even a greater wonder there than here.

Ever
P. T. Barnum

Three passes in Barnum’s hand, each admitting two persons to reserved seats (no city specified), survive with his letter. An unknown number of additional passes may have been enclosed. The show was in Hartford on 6 and 7 May. More than eleven thousand people, many from out of town, attended the two performances the first day, despite a rainstorm that turned the ground to mud before the tent could be pitched. It is not known whether Clemens was among them. Continuing poor conditions forced cancellation of the second day’s engagement (Hartford Courant: “Amusements,” 6 May 75, 1; “Barnum’s Hippodrome,” 7 May 75, 2; “The Hippodrome,” 8 May 75, 2). For Clemens’s “comet article,” see 17 July 74 to Albright, n. 3click to open link. Waldemere was primarily Barnum’s summer residence; he generally spent winters at his Fifth Avenue town house in New York (see 7 June 75 to Barnum, n. 1;click to open link Saxon, 211–12; Wilson 1874, 66).

2 

Barnum replied on 18 February (CU-MARK):

I am not sure whether I answered your last letter. I was not surprised nor amazed that you could not do something in the show line. You did a big thing with the Comet & perhaps sometime another chance may turn up.

I send a queer batch of letters.

An endlessly inventive self-promoter and impresario of oddities, Barnum attracted even more attention from eccentrics than Clemens did himself. Since the summer of 1874, at Clemens’s request (apparently in a letter that has not been found), he had been sending him the “curious begging letters” he regularly received (Barnum to SLC, 31 July 74, 13 Aug 74, 27 Nov 74, CU-MARK). See 19 Feb 75 to Barnum.click to open link

3 

The Hippodrome had opened in New York in April 1874. After a summer and fall tour to Boston, Baltimore, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, and Cincinnati, it returned to New York. In the spring of 1875 it again went on the road, traveling as far west as Kansas City. The show, however, “did not draw well outside major cities because country patrons were disappointed by the absence of clowns.” By November 1875 Barnum had become “hopelessly overextended,” and was forced to sell his show property at auction (Saxon, 251; Barnum 1889, 290–92, 305, 310–12).

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