BARNUM'S WAYS

Evening Post, Volume CXV, Issue 24, 30 January 1933, Page 3

BARNUM'S WAYS

WONDERFUL PUBLICITY

THE PURCHASE OF JUMBO

A SECRET REVEALED

. The greatest showman in the world," P. T. Barnum, wanted to adopt me, writes Julian Wylio in tho "Sunday Graphic." It came about in- this way. His father-in-law, whose name was Fish, lived opposite my parents' house in So.uthport, my birthplace, and -whenever the great Barnum came to England he always visited Mr. Fish. Being absorbed in the show business even as a child, I used to go over and sco him, and he would "tell me t""es by the hour. I suppose my great interest in all he said and .did must have attracted him to me, for he interviewed my parents and asked if he could adopt me as his son. He had no sons of his own. They would not agree—l forget what I thought- about it—so the matter fell through. But I may. mention that Phiueas Taylor Barnum died worth £2,000,000 (which is slightly more than I am worth at the moment) and the money went to distant relations. Publicity—or, as I prefer to call it, showmanship—is the first essential in tho show business. If you have not got it you may as well pack Up. Showmanship has been well defined as judicious extravagance. There is no such thing as bad publicity. That was the first thing I learnt from Baruum. "My boy," he used to say, "it: doesn't matter what they say about you, good or bad, so long as they, mention'your name and your business." And he was right. Some clever showmen are alive today—one of tho greatest alive, when I first; knew him, was running a troupe of performing fleas —then quite a popular form of entertainment' - Another showman, known as Professor England, who also ran a troupe of performing fleas, asked me for ,a slogan to paint over his tent. I suggested "England Expects That Every Flea This Day Will Do His Duty."' it was duly painted up, and they did. CLEVER TOUCH. One of the cleverest bits of showmanship I remember, I saw iv New York. They wero presenting a revival of "The Fatal Wedding." They got the atmosphere inside the theatre exactly right, with all the electric lights camouflaged to look like gas lamps and all tho attendants in Victorian costume. But the cleverest bit was at the end. When we came out after the show wo discovered that all of. our cars had been sent away—that there was not a taxi in sight—but that the management had providod hansom cabs and fourwheelcrs to take us home. A great touch. " In Paris once, to advertise a show, they had a long line of tall men walking along tho boulevards wearing tall hats and frock coats. When they got opposite a cafo which was crowded they stood in a row, took off their hats and bowed low. They were all bald' and tho name of tho show was painted on their bald pates, one letter on each. Barnum had a farm in America, and he. used to have the fields ploughed by elephants. A railroad ran through tho farm, and his neighbours asked him why he indulged in such a costly aud uneconomic way of fanning. HIS REASON. "Well," said Barnum, "people look out of the train windows and see those elephants. They ask each other who is the silly fool who uses elephants for ploughing instead of horses. Someone is sure to say 'Barnum' and there you are. I am satisfied." At the early American Museum in New York Barnum had a live whale on exhibition. This was kept in a huge tank at the very top of the building and was advertised as the only live whale in captivity—which it was. But the whale lived for only a few weeks in the tank and Barnum had a fleet of whalers busy to keep him supplied. Every timo a whalo died another was brought along in a huge tank wagon and with great difficulty and tremendous fuss it was hoisted up to the top of the building and put in the tank. This always drew enormous crowds and dislocated the traffic—besides getting into all the papers, which was just what Barnum wanted. He wasn't interested much in the whale when it was onco in the tank it was i the getting it there that had the publicity value. / Rough luck on the whales, maybe, but it served Barnum's purpose. Perhaps the greatest thing he ever did m the way of showmanship was the purchase of "Jumbo," the largest elephant in captivity, from the London Zoological Gardens. He paid an enormous price for it but that price was to include the takings ot the Zoo for the last week that Jumbo" remained there. The purchase completed, Barnum organised a great outcry and protest through the Press over the sale, of the elephant to America. Columns of protest appeared in all the papers, boiling with indignation over the sale of the London children's favourite to America, lowed "' aH over- th<>'country folEveryone loved "Jumbo," it appeared, and was scandalised that he should bo sold to the United States. It assumed the proportions of a national protest and problem. This was just what the wily showman wanted Even "Punch" joined in, and Arthur bkctchlcy wrote a whole book about it called "Mrs. Brown on Jumbo" It provided the great pantomime song of the year, the chorus of which went as follows:— Jumbo says to Alice: "I love you." Alice says to Jumbo: "I don't believe you're true. "If you really loved me as you ought to do, ° "You wouldn't go to Yankee-land and leave me in the Zoo." Of course, the American papers followed as well. SECRET REVEALED. The last week of "Jumbo's" stay at the _ioo approached: It was advertised and publicised. The protests grew. Tho _oo was packed to suffocation. Then on tho Wednesday of that week it was announced that "Jumbo" was to leave Crowds almost stormed the gates to sco the departure. A great van was drawn up, and a broad, thick plank, covered with felt and straw, was put against it for the elephant to ascend into the van. He was led out by his keeper, to whom he was greatly attached. Ho commenced to walk up the gangplank and got half-way, when he stopped dead, trumpeted loudly, and backed down again. No inducements could got him to try again. His keeper tried repeatedly, but without any success. Npw "Jumbo" had a mate, named Alice." The story immediately went forth that "Jumbo" refused to leave his mate. There was another great burst of publicity. Interest became even greater. On the next clay the van for "Jumbo," drawn by eight horses, came again. : Again he was led out: Again he started to ascent the gangway, watched by a huge and breathless* crowd— and again in tho middle of the plank "Jumbo" refused and backed down trumpeting. Nor could any power got him in. Excitement had now reached fever

heat. There was "no standing room" in the Gardens when for the third time, on the Friday, "Jumbo" was again led out and again refused. It is not too much to say that tho whole world rang with the story of "Jumbo's" devotion to his mate. Tho Saturday came, and Barnum announced that this day "Jumbo" would positively be taken away"—so if London wanted its last glimpse, it was now or never. The crowds broke all the records and the Zoo had never taken so much mono}'. .Tho van arrived. "Jumbo" was led to the plank amid deathly silence. He approached it, and walked up it—and this time he walked right into tho van and was driven away in triumph, mourned by the tremendous crowd both insiele the Gardens and outside. , Nobody knew then—And nobody has ever known until this moment outside Barnum and his associates—that in the middle of that plank, hidden by felt and straw, was placed a large copper plate, to which a very strong charge of electricity was attached. When "Jumbo" stepped on it, the current went on and he got a powerful electric shock, which shook him up. That was the reason for his refusal to go on, and a secret which I am able to reveal to-day. And I may tell you that the takings of the Zoological Gardens that week, which Barnum had bought in lho agreed price, were greater than the price itself. So he not only got terrific publicity, but made a profit out of it as well. That is what I call showmanship. "Jumbo" went with Barnum to America, and when he was killed by accident by a railway train, the whole world mourned him.