Phineas Taylor Barnum’s “Greatest Show on Earth,” dazzled Cornwallites on May 31, 1877.
The circus was carried to Cornwall “on three immense special excursion trains” to “exhibit in all its overshadowing vastness.”
A lengthy ad in “The Cornwall Reporter,” and reproduced in Volume I of George Wilson’s Down the Lance (Again), set out to whet the public’s appetite for the spectacle coming to town.
The notice said “Each morning about 9 p.m. a (free) triumphal golden street procession,” with “Huge elephant in harness, drawing titanic tableaux cars and colossal chariots of golden glory, an endless vision of animals, art and arenic pomp.”
“Monster lions in their gilded lair, performed in public as they pass, by Mlle. Dumas, the European Empress of the dens; stupendous serpents…A jewelled and bannered array moving in majestic splendour through the thronged streets.”
“Bring all the ladies and children and secure good places to see the museum, menagerie…each exhibited in entirely separate, mammoth tents and returning more than ten times the price of the admission.” (50 cents, children under 9 -25 cents)
When the gates opened at 1 p.m. spectators could view “…more marine monsters, more and rare wild beasts, birds and reptiles, more marvelous human prodigies, more curious and costly wonders, more distinguished equestrians and athletes, and more educated animals and magnificent trick horses than were ever before presented in any age or place.”
They could marvel at the “50 magnificent pictorial cages. An additional half million invested in famous foreign features, including $30,000 stud of superb educated ‘Trakene’ stallions…Introduced altogether, they simultaneously, and as one company, execute the most astonishing acts and evolutions, with the activity, precision and intelligence of army drill; even standing erect as soldiers. Their performances beggar description.”
Visitors could witness “Miss Jennie Hengler’s original and electrifying Double Menage Act, introducing two magnificent $10,000 stallions, ridden and driven tandem…”
And they could look at “The tattooed Greek nobleman, Captain Costentenus, tattooed from head to foot in Chinese tartary as punishment for engaging in rebellion against the King, 388 figures necessitating 7,000,000 blood producing punctures.”
Barnum offered a view of “The only living Hippopotamus in America. A thousand-fold greater attraction than all ordinary menageries combined.”
And “Admiral Dot! A living atom among pigmies..” plus “A grand field museum of life-sized automations and mechanical wonders, operated by a solid steam engine.”
The ad promised much more, making the scribe for “The Reporter,” skeptical whether the circus could live-up to its claims. The journalist wrote that “Mr. Barnum’s advertising, done as it was on a princely scale utterly fails to convey…an adequate impression of the astounding sights and performances to the dazed and delighted vision under Mr. Barnum’s five acres of canvas. We abandon the task of enumeration in despair; but cannot resist the desire to mention the performances of the charming lady of the ‘Iron Jaw’ and the acrobatic acts of the Japanese…These two attractions, neither of which is included in the overwhelming catalogue of new and imported features, are alone worth several times the prices of admission.”
“Everything which Mr. Barnum promises, his rare combinations performs and much more. Of that the public may rest satisfied. We sincerely pity the individual who fails to feast his eyes on the marvels which are provided.”
Born in Connecticut, in 1810, Barnum rose to fame by offering the general public the unusual and bizarre, real or fake. He started his career promoting the rare and bizarre in his museum which featured the “Feejee Mermaid,” a fabricated head attached to a finned body, and real Siamese Twins, Chang and Eng.
Finding that the public could not get enough, Barnum went on to promote musical extravaganzas by introducing the Swedish soprano Jenny Lind to North America.
Still searching for new ways to make money by dazzling the public, he started promoting circuses in his 60’s, where he introduced Jumbo the Elephant to the world.
And in true American fashion, his entertainment notoriety and self-aggrandisement abilities led to his election to Connecticut’s state legislature and as a city mayor.
A showman to the end, when Barnum became seriously ill at age 81, he had his obituary printed so he could enjoy reading it before he died.
Dubbed “The Prince of Humbugs,” historians have unfortunately been unable to prove that he coined the phrase “There is a sucker born every minute.”
Pity

Photo: Library of Congress