The farm hands knew that the Old Testament had spoken about a race of giants, but Cardiff, New York was a very long way from the Promised Land. So you can imagine their surprise on that cool October morning in eighteen sixty nine when the men accidentally unearthed a petrified body of a massive ten foot tall man. He laid flat on his back, as pale and chalky as soft plaster. It was easy for the workers to recall the Bible story of Goliath being struck down by David slingshot. The
resemblance in their mind was striking. The laborers couldn't believe their luck. They thought it was a weird and wonderful discovery, and they set off to let the world know. But none of this was by happenstance or happy accident. No, it was all part of a heavily choreographed and brilliantly engineered plan drummed up by a fellow named George Hull, one that involved a handful of years, a couple of thousand dollars, and a big chunk of gypsum. You see,
George was a skeptic by nature. He didn't believe in God. He certainly didn't believe in the Bible and definitely didn't believe in giants. This life was all there was, he thought, and anyone trying to convince people otherwise were fraudsters. So George came up with an idea to hoodwink the faithful, and he picked the perfect time too. Charles Darwin had just published his Origin of Species, and the world as
we knew it had been thrown into flux. George roped in a cast of characters, a Chicago marble dealer, some sculptors, and a distant relative by the name of Stub Newell. The latter just happened to own a farm in upstate New York, which would prove to be the perfect resting place for a faux fossil. Visitors soon began pouring onto the property. Men left to work, and women brought their babies along. They showed up to the farm in droves, trying to catch a glimpse of this fossilized giant. Stubb
erected a big white tent and charged admission. Soon businessmen and investors came knocking, all wanting a piece of the action. And while the experts and naysayers certainly had a few things to say. Stubb stuck by his story this was the real deal. Inspired by the publicity, P. T. Barnum tried to buy the giant, but when Stubb turned him down, Barnum changed plans and simply made his own copy of it.
And when that new handcrafted petrified giant corpse was ready, he put it on display in his American Museum in New York City. That first fraud gave way to others too, and soon even more copies were cropping up. But ultimately the story unraveled when a guilt ridden sculptor decided to come clean, and the Cardiff Giant was eventually put into storage,
where it would languish for years to come. This time, at least, the skeptics had won the day, and it demonstrates that universal truth that everyone loves a good narrative. It's part of our nature as humans to look for story and to cling onto it for dear life. Story helps us anchor ourselves in reality, and it gives us something that most people can never get enough of, hope, But for many that's never anything more than just a dream.
Hope is a wonderful target to aim for, after all, that's why they call it shooting for the stars, but oftentimes, happily ever after is too far out of reach, and few individuals throughout history have had farther to stretch for their lofty goals than one person in particular. But despite a life filled with challenges and obstacles that would make most of us give up and settle for less, she managed to do the impossible. I'm Aaron Manky, Welcome to
the Side Show. Stealing a horse and wagon was an impressive feat, especially since the culprits were both just a hair over two ft tall. Mercy and her sister Minnie had just wanted to go for a joy ride, so when a peddler stopped by their family home in Middleborough, Massachusetts, the sisters saw their chance. They climbed up into the driver's seat and took the reins in their tiny fists.
But they underestimated the horsepower in front of them and never thought that the beast might make a break for it. So when their older brother finally found them a mile from home, he gave them a piece of his mind. Despite the lecture, though they couldn't help us squeal with glee. And these antics were part and parcel for the tiny package that was Mercy Lavinia Warren Bump. By all accounts,
she was a completely unremarkable baby. She made her world debut on Halloween of eighteen forty one, the fifth child
in her family. Born to parents who were seasoned in matters of birthing and rearing, the Bump family was made of solid Yankee stock, comprised of folks descended from not two, but five Mayflower passengers, and by all accounts they eked out a quiet New England existence, one dictated by the church bells and the seasons, with each change in the weather a cause for celebration or a warning sign of things to come. As her first year went on, Mercy's
parents noticed something unusual about her. It seemed, in the strangest of ways, that she had simply stopped growing. They kept a watchful eye as one year turned to the next. What she lacked in size she made up foreign spirits, growing into a tiny, yet precocious child. But even so, the smallest and youngest Bump was able to keep up with the rest. She went to school and did her chores, all with the help of a small step ladder her father had built for her. And when her sister Minnie
arrived seven years later. The family recognized something in her, she too, was going to stay small. Looking back, historians think it's likely that both sisters suffered from a pituitary disorder resulting from their ancestors in her marrying. Mercy graduated from school at sixteen and remained in the schoolhouse to teach. She was universally adored. It said that her students would pick her up and carry her over deep puddles and
ferry her along on a sled during the snowfall. Life and all it offered Mercy was good, so when her cousin, George Wood showed up at the family's home after her first year on the job, she didn't take much interest in the offer that he put on the table. George was working for the Spalding in Rogers North American Circus, an outfit that floated show boats along the Ohio and
Mississippi Rivers. He had seen the great success of P. T. Barnum's General Tom Thumb, another proportional dwarf, and thought that Mercy, all thirty two inches of her, could likewise be destined for the stage. But George's idea of showcasing Mercy wasn't a novel idea. In fact, there is a long global history of people living with dwarf is um being sought after for entertainment. They loom large in folklore and myths worldwide,
with pictorial histories found across ancient cultures. Powerful rulers were said to have collected little people like baseball cards, as if they were mere two dimensional characters and not living, breathing humans. History tells us that for upwards of five thousand years, they were often held in some degree of bondage, thought of as property, and fulfilled the roles of either
servant or entertainer. But as the world changed and courts declined, people with dwarfism began appearing at fairs, taverns, and other venues where folks of all kinds went to seek a reprieve from their daily lives. By the time George's offer came to Mercy, it was an era when women were expected to be good wives and mothers. Did she want to give up her quiet life, one in which she was safely tucked into her little town, for a life aboard a floating circus cruising along the banks of the
American frontier. Did she want to say yes to something more. It turns out that she did so with her parents blessing Mercy decided to make a go of it. She had the privilege of making this choice, something that not many women around her did, and with that she re christened herself with her two middle names for the stage, and in doing so, she was reborn as a star. Lavinia Warren. It was eighteen sixty and the floating palace was never going to outsail the war doct in New Orleans.
The Mississippi River waters ran beneath her, a watery spine binding the shores of a fracturing nation. Lavinia and her troop had a good run, but George began to feel uneasy. Abraham Lincoln had recently been elected president and won the electoral College by less than forty percent of the popular vote. More significantly, he didn't win a single Southern state. The country was picking sides, and each was taking up arms
to prove it. Georgia Lavinia decided to make a run for the north, booking the first train out of town to Vicksburg, Mississippi. Their car ferried both people and ammunition alike. What they didn't know then is that Vicksburg would go on to witness one of the bloodiest sieges of the impending war, but for now, the cousins were just trying to get through and get home. With rest on her mind, Lavinia had planned to ride out the Civil War back home, but that was before one of P. T. Barnum's men
came knocking. Barnum had her tales of Lavinia's success on the show boats and wanted her to join his ranks. However, to his surprise, she categorically refused, but Barnum wouldn't take no for an answer. He invited Lavinia and her parents to visit his sprawling estates in Bridgeport, Connecticut, where he continued to court her with the lure of a weekly salary and the promise of far flung adventures. And you know what, Lavinia had a change of heart, so she agreed.
Barnum got right to work. He ordered up reams of fabulous dresses and jewels, designing a wardrobe fit for a tiny queen. By spinning his stories, working his magic, and emptying his bank account, he was going to mold Lavinia from a show girl into a celebrity. But to understand his impulse, we have to look closer at this moment.
The previous generation of Americans had fought for freedom from the English crown, but Queen Victoria's influence was so strong that it crossed the pond, and upper crust Americans took note. Had she been alive today, she probably would have been a social media influencer. And Victorian America was changing too. The cities were growing, the fires of industry burning hot, and social settings that were once rigid began to tremble.
The ideals of the Victorian Age brought a sense of control to white, middle and upper class Americans as the country around them changed. Decked Out in corsets and pearls, top hats and tails, they enacted the rituals they thought would keep them safe and empowered and lavinia while Barnum saw her as the perfect canvas upon which to craft the ideal Victorian aristocrat, one who could be kept stateside
for their own viewing pleasure. Of course, the night of her official entrance to high society took place at New York City's magnificent St. Nicholas Hotel, and it's was dazzling. She dripped with charm and diamonds, dressed in a get up that would cost over fifty two dollars today, and the press went wild. She was suddenly a diminutive debutante of the highest regard. The New York Commercial Advisor called Lavinia one of the most extraordinary little ladies at any
time scene in this age of extraordinary beings. The New York Tribune wrote extensively about Lavinia, noting her to be bright and sweet, eyes, brilliant and intelligent, her form faultless, and her manner to be that of a woman of the world. And The New York Sun was bold enough to suggest that she could even challenge the riotously successful career of Charlie s Stratton, otherwise known as General Tom Thumb.
Charlie had signed on with Barnum at an early age and had become a global sensation, and Charlie, as the story goes, was quite smitten with Barnum's new star. He took Barnum aside and asked him to play matchmaker. Charlie even promised exclusive rights to publicize their wedding if Barnum were to foot the bill. Ever, the step ahead, Barnum
began planting the seeds with Lavinia. Their courtship began in earnest Charlie got to work wooing Lavinia the moment she stepped off the train to visit him in Bridgeport, where he picked her up in a miniature carriage. Over the course of the afternoon, Lavinia spoke of her upcoming trip to Europe. So Charlie got bold and asked would it be more proper for them to go as man and wife? Surprisingly,
Lavinia said yes. On February tenth, eighteen sixty three, curious spectators, all bundled up in yards of wool and furs, flooded the sidewalks. In the pews of Grace Church on Broadway. Guests waited anxiously. Everyone who was anyone was there. Congressmen rubbed shoulders with governors, Captains of industry stood flanked by their wives, all seated among worry newspaper editors. Barnum accepted no bribes for the invitations that we know of, although
it's said that many tried. After all, who didn't want to be at the social event of the season. The oregan blared and the ceremony began. Next crane toward the aisle, trying to catch a glimpse of the wedding party, guests, who were compelled to giggle at the spectacle of it all, soon fell in line, a hush reverence falling over the audience. Lavinia and Charlie ascended to the altar. Clymina said, of small stairs, to a special platform built just for them.
They were young, wealthy, and famous. They held each other's hands and kissed, and for the first time in three years, the New York Times ran something other than news of the Civil War on the front page. Yes, they were small, but it was clear that their love was mighty. Lavinia said, I do, and with that they were ready to take on the world. I can't think of a worse way to mix business and pleasure than by setting off on
a honeymoon tour. But Lavinia and Charlie did just that. Now, while the idea of a honeymoon might conjure visions of sunsets and sandy beaches, these two had a different idea in mine. They were off to the White House. That's right. They went down to Washington, d C. A city full of crime, vice, and malaria. Not exactly my idea of romance, but to each their own. Mary Todd Lincoln had extended
an invitation to the Stratton's. Maybe she felt she was in competition with Queen Victoria's friendship with Charlie, or maybe Barnum pressured her into it. Regardless of how it all came to be, what we do know is that the First Family pulled out all the stops. On Friday, February eighteen sixty three, Lavinia and Charlie were greeted with a proper white house reception by the Lincoln's. The newlyweds suited up in their full wedding attire for an audience of dignitaries.
Lavinia had a bouquet of fresh orange blossoms and strings of pearls around her neck. The newspapers reported the scene to be quite a vision, with the specter of a gangly Lincoln, all in black, bending at the waist to shake Charlie's hand and kiss Lavinia's cheek. It was said that there was even a striking resemblance between Mary Todd and Lavinia if you could scale them to an equal eyes that is, whispers floated throughout the room. Some audience
members were amused, others were ashamed. The pretense of this visit was a dignified one, but we have to notice There were echoes of the past that filled the east room at that moment, as two little people were presented to the head of the highest office in the land. Soon after their White House visit, they joined Lavinia's sister
Minnie and her husband George, and set off touring. But travels took them across New England, up into Canada, down south, and across the Midwest talk about the ultimate double date. The troop soon bunked down at a hotel in Louisville, Kentucky, where Lavinia spent some time chatting with her neighbor across the hall. He shared with her his pain in what the South was experiencing. He was distraught but determined to help,
and she listened intently. As they parted ways, he handed her assigned photograph that she would go on to carry with her. It may seem strange now, but as a famous theater actor John Wilkes Booth had his own fans. It would be in Europe that spring when they learned
of Lincoln's assassination and the war's end. Lavinia was an utter shock, and when asked by a British reporter about her relationship with Booth, she ended up giving them that signed photograph, it ran in the newspaper, the first photo of the president's assassin to appear in the British press. Over the next few years, the four friends continued to cross the world and back again, two pairs of pre
eminent global emissaries of their day. When it was all said and done, their travels added up to a distance that could have circumnavigated the globe twice, with a bit of mileage to spare. But home is often where they craved to be. I'm not gonna lie to you. It was sometimes tense between Charlie and Lavinia, as he wished for retirement and she wished for adventure. Their permanent residence sat on an eight one acre plot back in Lavinia's hometown.
It was all theirs, every last inch of it, complete with its rapper porch, mansward roof, chimneys and dormers. It was more than they could ever dream of and certainly exactly what they needed. They outfitted their newly built place with furniture made in miniature, including a pint sized grand piano and a shrunken billiards table. Visitors to the house today can still find remnants of their personal renovations. A small soapstone sink and a small staircase in the back.
At one point there was a cast iron stove measuring two feet tall for their guests, though they always had on hand average sized furniture and plates. They were global celebrities living in a small town after all, and frequently found themselves playing host to long nights of entertainment. And it's here, after a life of travel, adoration, and near missus, that Charlie would die in three He was forty five, taken at a young age by a stroke. Surely he had many roads behind him, but he still had the
world ahead of him. In Lavinia was devastated. She haunted the halls of her house, unmoored with life, making a little less sense without her general. On the day of Charlie's funeral, twenty three horse drawn carriages and ten thousand mourners made their way to Mountain Grove Cemetery. The air was heavy with the weight of this enormous finality. She had made a career out of being the center of attention, but this was a performance she didn't want to be
a part of. As Charlie was lowered into the earth, Lavinia collapsed moments later, someone tenderly picked her up and carried her to a carriage. One last funeral dirge filled the air, and then with a sudden jolt, the horses hold away. The Victorian age is often defined by death, and Lavinia's life was no exception, especially being an generation who lived and loved through the war. She had lost so many already, and now her husband was gone to she was stuck between two worlds, life on the road
and life in the home. It was in straddling this line that she was unlike almost any other Victorian woman she knew, and it was in this tension that she felt most alone. But as they say, the show must go on. She soon remarried to another proportional dwarf by the name of Count Primo Magre, who she and Charlie
had met on the road years before. They continued performing together alongside the count's brother, But where Lavinia and her crew had once held court with royals and presidents, they now began finding themselves scraping together itineraries and descending into the bellies of cedi er venues. They spent some time starring in the Lily Peucia Midget Village, a Coney Island attraction featuring over three h little persons recruited from various
side shows. Picture it as an early twentieth century, real world social experiment. The sets, built to look like fifteenth century Nuremberg, of course, featured a theater, circus, a firehouse, and a beach with lifeguard towers. It was here that performers acted out their mundane, everyday life, and audiences came to watch. In the village, the actors were stripped of their individual identities and folded into a homogeneous group. They were being sold as one fictitious race of little people.
If you've seen The Wizard of Oz or Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, you've caught a glimpse of this new mythology coming to life. As you can imagine, this was all pretty demeaning. The luster of this life and the opportunities that presented were waning. The curtains were finally drawing
to a close. Lavinia had been one of America's first celebrities, loved by the public until they found newer, shiny or entertainments, but in nineteen nineteen, on the cusp of her eighth decade of life, she fell ill and died on November. By then, Lavinia had become one of the most photographed people in the world. An obituary claimed that more people knew of her than any other woman in the entire country. In an amazing way, she had really done it all.
But what made Lavinia a star was certainly complicated. She played the part of the ideal Victorian woman in miniature, a human doll dressed to the nines. This was quite literally her whole act. Barnum knew that with the right aesthetic trappings, he could transform her to his benefit, yes, and maybe even to her own. It was a transformation that allowed her to climb higher than any step ladder could have allowed. She was a hero, a celebrity, and
the biggest star of her day. But when she was buried beside Charlie's life size monument, her simple headstone bore the only title that she felt most proud of. It's simply read His wife. Lavinia Warren's life and adventures clearly proved that big things often come in small packages. The fame, the wealth, and those millions of adoring fans all stand as definitive proof that she really had reached the top of the world. But there were others like her, and
their lives were no less extraordinary. And if you stick around through this brief sponsor break, this season's writer and lead producer, Robin Miniter, will take you on that journey. Thomas was built as three ft tall and three ft broad, although this was possibly the least interesting thing about him. A native son of Brooklyn, New York, Thomas Dilward was a showman and a show stopper, A fellow who could sing, dance, fiddle, contort, and act. He was sometimes billed as the African Tom Thumb.
But whereas Charlie Stratton was accepted in the courts of Europe, Dillward embraced a more sinister legacy. Right around the time Thomas was born, in the eighteen thirties, America's social landscape was feeling a new squeeze whore in working class immigrant families struggled to get by, hardly benefiting from any association with the dominating Anglo social classes. This, though, was about to change. There are a few stories that float around,
but this is the most popular one. A traveling actor by the name of Thomas Rice was said to have watched an elderly, decrepit black man singing and dancing while working at a horse table. He took notes and practiced his mimicry. Rice took inspiration from the man's jarring movements, his Southern twang, and his dark skin. He wrote a
few musical lines, and then he burned some cork. He smudged the inky black ash across his face in his hands, put on some raggedy clothes, and created what would become a monster in the American imagination, a character by the name of Jim Crow. And with that American minstrel shows were born. And it was through these shows that white
minstrel actors tried to codify blackness. By doing this, they attempted to grasp at any thread of social control that might be available to them and to create a foil, a foil to their own whiteness, which was purely fabricated and purely cruel. This attempt to define the markers of being black led to the creation of stereotypes, flattening the experience of black folks through the creation of harmful caricatures
for entertainment and profit. But the history of these minstrel shows in the American side show is inextricably linked, and it's partially due to P. T. Barnum and his Great American Museum. It's true that Barnum trafficked and oddities, inanimate and animate alike. The bulk of his acts focused on people with physical deformities, and his inclusion of black folks right alongside them exposed underlying social prejudices. Blackness and disability were starting to be cast in the same light. Thomas
was an interesting case study. Though his act his body existed at the intersection of a head spinning identity. He was a black person living with dwarfism, traveling and entertaining in the years before the Civil War. He dressed in drag and even took on the name Japanese Tommy as a way to trick audiences who would otherwise not pay to see a black man perform. In fact, he was one of the only black actors to travel with a
white troop. He stated audiences of all colors and shapes, and even came up with a turn of phrase that you can still hear in conversation today, hunky dory. The phrase was first found in Russell bart It's Seven Dictionary of Americanisms, and it means everything is all right, but knowing Thomas's story, It's easy to wonder was it really?
Sideshow was written by Robin Minater, with production, narration, and audio editing by me Aaron Mankey research for the series was done by Robin Minater, Taylor Haggerdorn, and Sam Alberty. Grim and Mild Presents was created in partnership with I Heart Radio. You can learn more about this show and everything else going on from Grim and mild over at Grim and mild dot com and, as always, thanks for listening.