Jumbo's Hide, Elvis's Ride, and the Tooth of Buddha

by Harvey Rachlin

  No one need be surprised that two little matters should create such a tremendous hullaballoo, such a furore of excitement, such an intensity of interest in the feminine world of New York and its neighborhood, as have the loves of our Lilliputians. We say “feminine world” because there were more than twenty thousand women in this City yesterday morning up and dressed an hour and a half before their usual time, solely and simply because of the approaching nuptials. … They didn’t all have cards of admission, oh no, but it wasn’t their fault. Fathers were flattered, husbands were hectored, brothers were bullied and cousins were cozened into buying, begging, borrowing in some way or other getting tickets of admission to the grand affair.

  Grace Church on Broadway was the site of the matrimonial ceremony, and on the big day the excitement was palpable. The streets were jammed with carriages, the sidewalks clustered with spectators, windows and doorways filled with onlookers. Colorful streamers and other decorations brightened the streets, reporters jockeyed through the crowd to get a close-up view, police officers labored to keep order, vehicles were detoured. Carriages drove up to the church and let out their passengers, then promptly left so the next vehicle could pull up and deposit its guests, all under the careful supervision of the police, all the details arranged by Barnum himself. So voluminous was traffic for the blissful event that part of Broadway essentially closed down.

  The fame of the couple was so great that craftsmen and merchants sought to capitalize on the little people’s marriage. They desired to have guests purchase their goods as gifts, and even directly contributed to the parade of presents for the publicity. As the Times said of the union: “The marriage of Gen. Tom Thumb cannot be treated as an affair of no moment—in some respects it is most momentous. Next to Louis Napoleon there is no one person better known by reputation to high and low, rich and poor, than he.”

  The wedding was the social event of the New York season and the guest list exclusive. As a longtime performer, Tom knew and invited many in the upper crust of New York society, but invitations also went out to other notable people such as the president of the United States, government officials, and war heroes. Some citizens offered to pay large amounts of money for admission, but the couple adamantly refused to put them on sale; Tom and Lavinia wanted to ensure that their wedding was not just a public spectacle but a legitimate affair.

  Throngs of spectators stood in the wintry cold outside the church as guests clutching the coveted admission cards filled the church. The women were dressed to the nines. As the New York Herald noted, the chapel of Grace Church was “indeed … the show … the true ‘vision of fair women.’ Here was the carnival of crinoline, the apotheosis of purple and fine linen. Never before was the scarlet lady seen to such advantage. Babylon was a rag to it. … There were silks of every possible hue, and thus a rich variety of colors in the picture. There was, too, every possible species of toilet—dainty headdresses, delicate bonnets, and whatever can make the sex beautiful and lead everybody else into temptation.”

  In the church an organist played the William Tell Overture and the Tannhauser march. The guests were filled with anticipation, and police officers were omnipresent. Seated among the guests were common folk and distinguished Americans alike.

  The guests waited for the arrival of the wedding party with such impatience that several times they thought the bride and groom had arrived, only to be disappointed. Finally, the famous P.T. joined the throng along with members of the couple’s family. Soon a commotion in the rear signaled everyone in the church that the bride and groom, having made their way through the crowd outside, were about to make their grand entrance. Preceding the pair down the aisle were a couple even more diminutive in size, other Barnum stars, Commodore Nutt and the sister of the bride, Huldah Pierce Bump, known to many as Minnie Warren.

  More than a thousand people had jammed into the church, all yearning to witness the delicious spectacle, and they finally saw the couple walk to the altar. How was the bride and groom’s stroll down the aisle greeted by the spellbound audience? The New York Herald offered this account:

  Everybody was on the cushions at once and eager to see, though none could do so, save the few who sat along the middle aisle. But the murmur of voices and little exclamations marked their very slow progress up the aisle until they reached the open space and ascended the steps of the little dais prepared for them in front of the chancel rail.

  And now, the lives of two loving people would become linked in holy matrimony. The groom, Charles Stratton, had been born on January 4, 1838, in Bridgeport, Connecticut. At birth he weighed nine pounds, six ounces, so it seemed that his growth would be normal, as it was for his two older siblings (there would be four Stratton children altogether), but he stopped growing at about a year, and it soon appeared that he would be different. In his autobiography, Struggles and Triumphs, Barnum recounts how he met Stratton:

  In November 1842 I was in Albany in business. As the Hudson River was frozen over I returned to New York by the Housatonic Railroad stopping one night at Bridgeport, Connecticut to see my brother Philo F. Barnum, who at the time kept the Franklin Hotel. I heard of a remarkably small child in Bridgeport, and at my request my brother brought him to the hotel. He was not two feet high, he weighed less than sixteen pounds, and was the smallest child I ever saw that could walk alone. But he was a perfectly formed bright-eyed little fellow with light hair and ruddy cheeks and he enjoyed the best of health. He was exceedingly bashful but after some coaxing he was induced to talk with me and he told me that he was the son of Sherwood Stratton and that his own name was Charles S. Stratton. After seeing him and talking to him I at once determined to procure his services from his parents.

  Little Charles’s mother accompanied the boy to New York City, where they took up residence in an apartment and she chaperoned the boy in his new profession. Providing instruction in a variety of entertainment forms to the four-year-old boy—who was naturally talkative, energetic, and clever, not to mention handsome—Barnum transformed Charles Stratton into General Tom Thumb, the elfin raconteur, mimic, crooner, and child hoofer “newly arrived from England.” In addition to giving the boy a new country of origin, Barnum shrewdly added seven years to Charles’s age: a tiny eleven-year-old was much more of a novelty than a tiny four-year-old. Barnum advertised his new discovery as being twenty-two inches tall; in truth the lad was closer to twenty-six inches. Over the years Tom Thumb earned a vast amount of money for Barnum—estimated at one-quarter of the impresario’s earnings—and performed before Queen Victoria of England and other royal sovereigns in Europe, as well as endearing himself to the gentry of New York society.

  The bride, Lavinia Warren Bump, was born on October 31, 1841, in Middleboro, Massachusetts. Her siblings who preceded her were of normal height, but she grew very slowly, and it soon became apparent that she was a dwarf. Like her future husband, she too began working in show business at an early age, performing for a time in floating carnival shows that cruised up and down the Mississippi River. By most accounts, Lavinia, a bright, vivacious, pretty young woman, was reluctant when Barnum first asked her to work for him, but he met with her parents and convinced them that it would be in her interests to do so. In working for Barnum, Lavinia performed vaudeville routines and short plays written for her, sang, danced, told stories, and recited poetry. Performers who worked for Barnum entertained in his New York museum as well as in his traveling shows.

  Charles Stratton met Lavinia around December 1862, before she had begun to work in Barnum’s American Museum in New York. He was immediately smitten with her, pursued her, and soon asked her to marry him. She accepted.

  As a woman of twenty-one years on her wedding day, Lavinia was a pleasing sight. In its coverage of the marriage, the New York Herald described Lavinia as “a little lady of very fair proportions, decidedly of the plump style of beauty, with a well rounded arm and full bust. … Her countenance is animated and agreeable complexion decidedly brunette, black hair, very d
ark eyes, rounded forehead and dimpled cheeks and chin.” Despite the favorable description, the reporter perhaps rankled Lavinia by adding, “Her little sister is to our heretical taste the prettier of the two.” According to The New York Times, Minnie Warren, who was thirteen, was “the smallest woman in the world.”

  Lavinia’s wedding dress was made by the famous Madame Demorest, and it was the quintessence of elegance. Here’s how the Herald described the gown:

  The material is a superb quality of taffeta, changing from pale amber to a silvery white and producing a peculiarly rich and delicate tint. The skirt … is ornamented to represent the emblems of different nationalities on each separate breadth, connected in each seam by … feathers and lace—altogether forming an elegant border around the skirt.

  The design in front of the dress represents growing corn for America; on the right a rose for England adorned by buds and leaves; on the left a laurel for France; and on the remaining breadths are exhibited an acorn in the leaves for Germany, a shamrock for Ireland, a thistle for Scotland, and a vine with clusters of grapes for Italy. The designs are lined in very narrow folds of white satin, their effect being heightened … with narrow point applique over a petticoat of white glace silk covered with … fine tulle, the divisions being traced with seed pearls.

  Shortly after 12:30 P.M. the formal ceremony began, what the Herald called “the great moment of the great show.” The pocket-sized quartet stood at the altar, the bride and bridegroom flanked by Commodore Nutt and Minnie Warren. The Lives of Tom Thumb and Wife, a pamphlet published around 1881, describes what happened next:

  Irrepressible exclamations of delight and astonishment tinkled all over the house. Ladies stood on tiptoe, some daring ones of small stature actually mounting the seats so eager in their pleasurable excitement to see that they overlooked the possibility of being seen and masculine necks were stretched as far as white neckties would permit. And yet no sooner had the four tiny mites arranged themselves in the prescribed form for the marital ceremony than the voice of the Reverend Mr. Willey of Bridgeport, Connecticut secured perfect silence and reverent attention. While in the hearts of all the “goodlie companie” of “fair women and brave men” gathered there arose a prayerful wish for the perfect peace and prosperity of the fairy-like pair. The bride was given away at the request of her parents by the Reverend Dr. Putnam of Middleboro and the words of the service were repeated in audible distinctness by both the bride and groom. … The benediction was pronounced by the Reverend Dr. Taylor, rector of Grace Church, whereupon the General saluted his wife with an honest kiss, the last of the three millions pressed in public upon the lips of his lady admirers.

  Tom Thumb and his bride Lavinia, flanked by Commodore Nutt and Minnie Warren, greeting guests at Tom and Lavinia's wedding.

  The ceremony was poignant and joyous; the Herald characterized it as “one of the most remarkable marriages ever celebrated in a civilized community.”

  The wedding guests then headed over to the Metropolitan Hotel, where a reception was to be held for the newlyweds. Police officers were stationed around the area to keep order, but mobs of excited people flocked to the hotel, and if this in itself didn’t make it difficult for the party to reach the Metropolitan, there was yet another diversion: scores of people ran through the streets shouting and chasing after the carriage. Eventually the bridal party made it through the hubbub and into the hotel, ready to commence their party. The Herald described how the guests were greeted: “As Thumb and his bride and Nutt and Miss Warren stood on the piano, the visitors filed past and paid their respects, and so it went on and went over.”

  The wedding gifts, displayed in glass cases, were extravagant and plentiful. They included silver cups, a gold necklace, a diamond ring, coral jewelry, a silver watch, a small billiard table, an easy chair, a miniature set of parlor furniture, a miniature sewing machine, a miniature silver horse and chariot, and a porcelain-and-gold dinner set.

  The immense wedding cake was made by William H. Barmore Confectioners. In The Lives of Tom Thumb and Wife, the cake was described thus:

  The bridal cake, furnished by Barmore, of Broadway, weighed eighty pounds, the base gracefully ornamented with leaves of the forest, surmounted with shells of the ocean, with scrolls neatly entwined, on which rested a magnificent Egyptian Temple of Fame, each column bearing cupids and angels, with scrolls and harps, recording the nuptial vows of the youthful couple standing beneath its splendid arches, while the reverend doctor pronounces the blessing. On the extreme top is seen the Angel of Fame, proclaiming to the scattering flowers from horns of plenty as they glide along Life’s voyage. In point of beauty and workmanship, it was the nonpareil of bridal cake.

  An illustration of Tom Thumb and Lavinia Warren Bump's wedding cake. At the top an "Angel of Fame" proclaims the happiness of the newlyweds on an Egyptian Temple of Fame, Which graces angels and cupids with harps and scrolls. Designs of forest leaves and ocean shells decorate the base.

  Slices were meted out to all in attendance. As noted in Tom Thumb and Wife, “Upon leaving the hotel, the guests were supplied with wedding-cake, over two thousand boxes being thus distributed.”

  After the reception the newlyweds retired to their suite, but the guests refused to end the merriment. Outside the hotel, an eight-piece band performed in honor of the newlyweds, and a large crowd gathered around. About a half hour later, at half past ten, General and Mrs. Tom Thumb came to the balcony to greet the gaggle of people below. The couple were tired and it was their first night of wedded bliss, but Tom Thumb was diplomatic. He said, “I will make this speech like myself. Short.” After some brief remarks he bade the crowd good night, Lavinia blew a kiss, and they both disappeared into their suite.

  Though displayed as spectacles for public diversion, Tom Thumb and Lavinia amassed a good sum of money in their employment with P. T. Barnum. Little people in their day were looked on as freaks, but their exploitation could earn them a good living and was thus often welcome. The fate of such diminutive folk could have been worse, of course. In previous centuries in Europe, for instance, dwarfs would sometimes be employed as “fools” in royal courts, homes, and inns for the fun and amusement of their keepers and their company. Charles and Lavinia had fame, money, and an estate in Middleboro, Massachusetts.

  In July 1883, Tom Thumb, at his Middleboro home, died of a stroke. He was forty-five years old; at the time of his death he was about forty inches tall and weighed around seventy pounds. Tom and Lavinia never had any children, but about a year after they married a story circulated that Lavinia had given birth. Photos of the pair with various children, none of which was theirs, reinforced the rumor. Lavinia later married a dwarf from Italy who claimed a royal title. Count Magri asserted that the Pope had bestowed the title (his brother, also a dwarf, was Baron Magri), but there never seemed to be any concrete evidence of such an official title.

  The pieces of wedding cake from the marriage of Charles Stratton and Lavinia Warren Bump would surely have disappeared from history had not Lavinia and others seen fit to save them. Perhaps Lavinia saved her piece not just as a keepsake but because of the tradition that it was good luck to save pieces of wedding cake and would result in a fruitful, successful marriage.

  Lavinia bestowed one vestige of the cake to Harrison Grey Fiske, a theater manager who was married to the famous stage actress, Minnie Maddern Fiske. In a letter to Fiske dated February 16, 1905, the former Mrs. Tom Thumb, now Countess Lavinia Magri, wrote about the enclosure:

  Allow me to present you with a piece of my Wedding Cake which was made when I was married to Charles S. Stratton known as the only Original Genl. Tom Thumb—Feb. 10th 1863 at Grace Church New York City. My anniversary was the 10th of Feb 1905. This Cake is now Forty two years old. The public are under the impression that I am not living. I was married the second time to Count Primo Magri April 6th 1886 at Italy Trinity Church forty second St. New York City.

  The countess’s quaint present to Harrison Grey Fiske
was preserved privately until it was donated along with many other pieces in the Minnie Maddern Fiske collection to the U.S. government. Another piece of wedding cake was purchased in the early 1930s from a private dealer by Harry Hertzberg, a prominent Texas collector of circus memorabilia.

  To the naked eye, the pieces look like dark fossilized masses. To imaginative and romantic souls, however, the unsightly slices of cake from the 1863 wedding of Tom Thumb and Queen Lavinia are a glorious reminder that physical limitations are no barrier to true love.

  LOCATIONS: Library of Congress, Washington, D.C.

  The Hertzberg Circus Collection and Museum, a division of the San Antonio Public Library, San Antonio, Texas. (Other slices of cake from Tom Thumb’s wedding may exist at other locations.)

  Footnote

  *Lavinia was working for P. T. Barnum only a few months before she was married, and in many of the early advertisements she was referred to as the “Little Queen of Beauty.” She tended not to be called by this title after she was married. Indeed, she had a long career and was not really referred to as Queen Lavinia, although the title occasionally popped up in advertisements.

  THOMAS EDISON’S ORIGINAL

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