Life of Hon. Phineas T. Barnum [18]
his stage name to Signor Vivalla. He then resorted to his former means of advertising, and started on his tour. For Vivalla's first week of performances Barnum received $50, and for the second week three times as much. At the close of the first performance, in response to loud applause, Barnum appeared upon the stage and made a speech to the audience, a performance which he repeated thousands of times in after years. This engagement was at the Franklin Theatre in New York.
The show next appeared in Boston, with great success. Next it went to Washington and had a most disastrous week, for every night was stormy. Indeed Barnum found himself literally stranded there, with not enough money to get away. He was driven to pawn his watch and chain for $35, and then met a friend who helped him out of his dilemma.
"As this was my first visit to Washington, I was much interested," says Barnum, "in visiting the capitol and other public buildings. I also satisfied my curiosity in seeing Clay, Calhoun, Benton, John Quincy Adams, Richard M. Johnson, Polk, and other leading statesmen of the time. I was also greatly gratified in calling upon Anne Royall, author of the Black Book, publisher of a little paper called 'Paul Pry,' and quite a celebrated personage in her day. I had exchanged The Herald of Freedom with her journal, and she strongly sympathized with me in my persecutions. She was delighted to see me, and although she was the most garrulous old woman I ever saw, I passed a very amusing and pleasant time with her. Before leaving her I manifested my showman propensity by trying to hire her to give a dozen or more lectures on 'Government' in the Atlantic cities, but I could not engage her at any price, although I am sure the speculation would have been a very profitable one. I never saw this eccentric woman again; she died at a very advanced age, October 1, 1854, at her residence in Washington."
From Washington the show went to Philadelphia and appeared at the Walnut Street Theatre. The audiences were small and it was evident that something must be done to arouse public interest. "And now," says Barnum, "that instinct which can arouse a community and make it patronize one, provided the article offered is worthy of patronage, an instinct which served me greatly in later years, astonishing the public and surprising me, came to my relief, and the help, curiously enough, appeared in the shape of an emphatic hiss from the pit!
"This hiss, I discovered, came from one Roberts, a circus performer, and I had an interview with him. He was a professional balancer and juggler, who boasted that he could do all Vivalla had done and something more. I at once published a card in Vivalla's name, offering $1,000 to any one who would publicly perform Vivalla's feats at such place as should be designated, and Roberts issued a counter card accepting the offer. I then contracted with Mr. Warren, treasurer of the Walnut Street Theatre, for one-third of the proceeds, if I should bring the receipts up to $400 a night--an agreement he could well afford to make as his receipts the night before had been but seventy-five dollars. From him I went to Roberts, who seemed disposed to 'back down,' but I told him that I should not insist upon the terms of his published card, and ask him if he was under any engagement? Learning that he was not I offered him thirty dollars to perform under my direction one night at the Walnut, and he accepted. A great trial of skill between Roberts and Vivalla was duly announced by posters and through the press. Meanwhile, they rehearsed privately to see what tricks each could perform, and the 'business' was completely arranged.
"Public excitement was at fever heat, and on the night of the trial the pit and upper boxes were crowded to the full. The 'contest' between the performers was eager, and each had his party in the house. So far as I could learn, no one complained that he did not get all he paid for on that occasion. I engaged Roberts for a month, and his subsequent 'contests' with Vivalla amused the public and put
The show next appeared in Boston, with great success. Next it went to Washington and had a most disastrous week, for every night was stormy. Indeed Barnum found himself literally stranded there, with not enough money to get away. He was driven to pawn his watch and chain for $35, and then met a friend who helped him out of his dilemma.
"As this was my first visit to Washington, I was much interested," says Barnum, "in visiting the capitol and other public buildings. I also satisfied my curiosity in seeing Clay, Calhoun, Benton, John Quincy Adams, Richard M. Johnson, Polk, and other leading statesmen of the time. I was also greatly gratified in calling upon Anne Royall, author of the Black Book, publisher of a little paper called 'Paul Pry,' and quite a celebrated personage in her day. I had exchanged The Herald of Freedom with her journal, and she strongly sympathized with me in my persecutions. She was delighted to see me, and although she was the most garrulous old woman I ever saw, I passed a very amusing and pleasant time with her. Before leaving her I manifested my showman propensity by trying to hire her to give a dozen or more lectures on 'Government' in the Atlantic cities, but I could not engage her at any price, although I am sure the speculation would have been a very profitable one. I never saw this eccentric woman again; she died at a very advanced age, October 1, 1854, at her residence in Washington."
From Washington the show went to Philadelphia and appeared at the Walnut Street Theatre. The audiences were small and it was evident that something must be done to arouse public interest. "And now," says Barnum, "that instinct which can arouse a community and make it patronize one, provided the article offered is worthy of patronage, an instinct which served me greatly in later years, astonishing the public and surprising me, came to my relief, and the help, curiously enough, appeared in the shape of an emphatic hiss from the pit!
"This hiss, I discovered, came from one Roberts, a circus performer, and I had an interview with him. He was a professional balancer and juggler, who boasted that he could do all Vivalla had done and something more. I at once published a card in Vivalla's name, offering $1,000 to any one who would publicly perform Vivalla's feats at such place as should be designated, and Roberts issued a counter card accepting the offer. I then contracted with Mr. Warren, treasurer of the Walnut Street Theatre, for one-third of the proceeds, if I should bring the receipts up to $400 a night--an agreement he could well afford to make as his receipts the night before had been but seventy-five dollars. From him I went to Roberts, who seemed disposed to 'back down,' but I told him that I should not insist upon the terms of his published card, and ask him if he was under any engagement? Learning that he was not I offered him thirty dollars to perform under my direction one night at the Walnut, and he accepted. A great trial of skill between Roberts and Vivalla was duly announced by posters and through the press. Meanwhile, they rehearsed privately to see what tricks each could perform, and the 'business' was completely arranged.
"Public excitement was at fever heat, and on the night of the trial the pit and upper boxes were crowded to the full. The 'contest' between the performers was eager, and each had his party in the house. So far as I could learn, no one complained that he did not get all he paid for on that occasion. I engaged Roberts for a month, and his subsequent 'contests' with Vivalla amused the public and put