Today, the Bridgeport Connecticut Commemorative Silver Half Dollar Coin remembers an article — could be true, could be false — describing a farmer meeting Tom Thumb.
The first excerpt describes the farmer’s meeting while the second provides background on how P.T. Barnum met and hired “General Tom Thumb.”
The Massachusetts Reformatory “Our Paper” of August 25, 1894 provided the following anecdote:
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Tom Thumb and the Colonel
It is almost a point of honor with the genuine Yankee of the old school not to appear astonished at anything he encounters.
His most emphatic exclamation, in the presence of some altogether unexpected fact or astounding phenomenon, is “I want to know!” as if his sensations were limited to a mere desire to be made fully aware of the circumstance.
Perhaps he has acquired this impassiveness, by imitation, from the Indian who, taken from the primitive life of his mountains or plains, beholds the vast buildings and mechanical marvels of New York and Washington without the smallest expression of wonder or admiration.
The Yankee, however, generally “says something” when he is surprised, but that something is drawn very mildly.
And incident will illustrate this:
When General Tom Thumb and his wife were on their return from their wedding tour in Europe, they stopped for a day or two at Hartford, but did not place themselves on exhibition.
There happened to be in Hartford at the time an old farmer from the neighborhood of Litchfield Hill, who heard that Tom Thumb was in the place, and resolved that he would see him before he went home.
The farmer found his way to the hotel where Tom Thumb was stopping, and was told to go, if he wished to see him, to a certain room on the second floor and rap on the door.
The farmer went up and knocked, as he was bidden.
But it happened that the room was occupied by a certain Colonel Jones, a prominent politician who lived in an adjoining county, and who was a man of enormous stature, measuring almost seven feet in height.
The colonel had already been rallied a little on the fact that his next-door neighbor down the corridor was Tom Thumb, and when the visitor knocked at his door he was rather out of humor.
“Come in!” he called out.
The farmer opened the door and peered in. “I’m a-lookin’,” he said, “for General Tom Thumb.”
“Sir,” said the colonel, raising himself to his full height, “you see him before you!”
“I want to know! Be you Tom Thumb?”
“Yes!”
“You don’t say so!” said the farmer. “Wal, I guess you’ve growed some since you had your pictur’ took, haint ye?”
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In the Life of P.T. Barnum written by himself, published in 1855, Barnum included the story of meeting Tom Thumb:
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I had heard of a remarkably small child in Bridgeport; and by my request my brother brought him to the hotel.
He was the smallest child I ever saw that could walk alone.
He was not two feet in height, and weighed less than sixteen pounds.
He was a bright-eyed little fellow, with light hair and ruddy cheeks, was perfectly healthy, and as symmetrical as an Apollo.
He was exceedingly bashful, but after some coaxing he was induced to converse with me, and informed me that his name was Charles S. Stratton, son of Sherwood E. Stratton.
He was only five years old, and to exhibit a dwarf of that age might provoke the question, How do you know that he is a dwarf?
Some license might indeed be taken with the facts, but even with this advantage I really felt that the adventure was nothing more than an experiment, and I engaged him for the short term of four weeks at three dollars per week — all charges, including travelling and boarding of himself and mother, being at my expense.
They arrived in New York on Thanksgiving Day, Dec. 8, 1842, and Mrs. Stratton was greatly astonished to find her son heralded in my Museum bills as Gen. Tom Thumb, a dwarf of eleven years of age, just arrived from England!
This announcement contained two deceptions. I shall not attempt to justify them, but may be allowed to plead the circumstances in extenuation.
The boy was undoubtedly a dwarf, and I had the most reliable evidence that he had grown little, if any, since he was six months old; but had I announced him as only five years of age, it would have been impossible to excite the interest or awaken the curiosity of the public.
The thing I aimed at was, to assure them that he was really a dwarf — and in this, at least, they were not deceived.
It was of no consequence, in reality, where he was born or where he came from, and if the announcement that he was a foreigner answered my purpose, the people had only themselves to blame if they did not get their money’s worth when they visited the exhibition.
I had observed (and sometimes, as in the case of Vivalla, had taken advantage of) the American fancy for European exotics; and if the deception, practiced for a season in my dwarf experiment, has done anything towards checking our disgraceful preference for foreigners, I may readily be pardoned for the offence I here acknowledge.
I took great pains to train my diminutive prodigy, devoting many hours to that purpose, by day and by night, and succeeded, because he had native talent and an intense love of the ludicrous. He became very fond of me.
I was, and yet am, sincerely attached to him, and I candidly believe him at this moment to be the most interesting and extraordinary natural curiosity of which the world has any knowledge.
Four weeks expired, and I re-engaged him for a year at seven dollars per week, (and a gratuity of fifty dollars at the end of the agreement,) with privilege of exhibition in any section of the United States.
His parents were to accompany him, and I was to pay all travelling expenses.
Long before the year was out, I voluntarily increased his weekly salary to $25 — and he fairly earned it, for he speedily became a public favorite.
I frequently exhibited him for successive weeks in my Museum, and when I wished to introduce fresh novelties there, I sent him to numerous cities and towns in many of the States, accompanied by my friend Fordyce Hitchcock.
In the mean time, I had entirely paid for the American Museum, and entered into an agreement with Gen. Tom Thumb for his services another year, at fifty dollars per week and all expenses, with the privilege of exhibition in Europe.
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The Bridgeport Connecticut Commemorative Silver Half Dollar Coin shows with an artist’s portrayal of P.T. Barnum working with a young Tom Thumb.
