The Autobiography of Mrs. Tom Thumb - Melanie Benjamin [104]
INTERMISSION
From The New York Times, December 26, 1865
GENERAL NEWS
The Commissioner of Agriculture has received from the American Legation at Jeddo, Japan, several hundred varieties of fruit and flower seeds indigenous to that country, many of which, the consul believes, may be cultivated to advantage in this country.
One thousand four hundred men are now employed on the Reno, Oil Creek and Pit Hole Railroad. In about two weeks the railroad will be open.
Quite a number of plantations near Augusta, Ga., have changed hands; lately the purchasers are mostly from the North.
Frederick Douglass has written a letter accepting the position of delegate in Washington of the colored men of New York.
From The Blairsville Press, Blairsville, Pennsylvania, April 19, 1869
General Sheridan received a few days since the following report from Maj. General Schofield, at Ft. Leavenworth: “General Custer reports from the headwaters of the Washita, March 21st, the successful termination of his expedition. He has rescued the captive white women, Mrs. Morgan and Miss White; made the Indians submit to the Government, and holds three Cheyenne chiefs as security for the fulfillment of his promise. The troops are in good health.”
[ FOURTEEN ]
Thrills and Chills Guaranteed to Tingle the Spine!
(or, Trains, Indians, Runaway Wagons, and Mormons)
OUR DAUGHTER DIED IN SEPTEMBER 1866. MR. BARNUM put out the press release: “The Infant Daughter of General and Mrs. Tom Thumb Dead of Brain Inflammation.” Even in death, she remained nameless.
I killed her; I demanded her death. But I did not mourn her; that was Minnie’s duty, one that she begged to be allowed to perform.
“Let me reply to these letters, Sister. It will give me some pleasure.”
“Oh, Minnie, no, darling. You don’t have to do that—Mr. Barnum’s secretaries will send out a card.”
“No, let me, Vinnie. It’s odd, but I feel as if I owe that to her—to all the babies entrusted to us these past few years. It will soothe me to do so—and the people are so nice to write like this.” Minnie held up a letter for me to read.
Dear Mrs. General Tom Thumb, I am very sorry to here of the loss of your Fairy Angel who will surely be in Heaven now waiting for you. We lost a Daughter ourselves to the fever and I trust that they are both in a better place.
I returned the letter with a shaking hand and shakier conscience; I could not bear to keep reading. As relieved as I was to end this charade, I did not enjoy knowing that we had played so upon the emotions of those to whom we had previously given only joy. But I could not continue the practice of snatching babies and returning them as they grew too big; too big to complete the happy tableau that Mr. Barnum was determined to present of perfectly formed miniature father, mother, and child. So I demanded that we end it; we had made enough money on the European tour that Mr. Barnum had no choice but to agree with me.
Unfortunately, the only possible way to end the charade was to “kill” the child that had never really existed, except in the public’s mind. And so I was a murderer now.
But the deed was done; the letters and cards would soon subside. We would never have to speak of babies again—or so I thought.
“All right, you answer them. But, Minnie, promise me, if it gets too hard for you, you must stop. I know you—I know your tender heart.”
Minnie nodded, picked up her pen, and began to write; her sweet eyes were full of tears, but she answered every one in my name, writing as tenderly as if it had been her own child who died.
This was late September of 1866; we were back from Europe, resting up in Middleborough—enjoying a nation now at peace.
Mama and Papa were growing older, but they were content, now that all their children were back home. Safely returned from combat, Benjamin and James had begun families of their own; indeed, all of Mama and Papa’s children were married, with the exception of Minnie. And of course no one ever expected her to wed; she was fully part of my household,