Reminiscences of a Showman

Wearers of the motley! The merry fellows who have lived in literature and history, the mad-cap wits and jesters of whom Thomas Carlyle wrote these lines:

"The world of fools hath such a store
      that he who would not see an ass,
Must bide at home and close his door
      And break his looking glass."

The picturesque fool as we know him in romance - the creature with the motley and tinkling bells - he who carries a wooden sword or a bauble crowned stick, was licensed to speak because he was supposed to be harmless, and took advantage of the only outlet for free speech which then existed. If the jester stung more than he amused his reward was a whipping and the same chastisement prevails today.

The origin of the court fool is hard to trace. He is believed to have flourished in. the time of the Saxon kings and was found at the Court of Montezuma. Some of my friends are unkind enough to remark, that this is, probably, where most of the old clown's jokes originated. The jest of the French and Normans were boasts, originally called "gabs," from whence the expression of "the gift of gab" probably sprung. But whatever the origin of court fools, it is certain that the kings of France possessed them before the middle of the fourteenth century, and from this time anecdotes about them are common. It was with the court fool that the clown's costume was introduced and has ever since been considered as characteristic mark of folly. The motley garb was probably worn with the aim of satirizing some of the fashions of the fourteenth century.

It often happened at the early period that a dwarf held the position of court fool. His deformity gave the courtiers occasion to taunt him with their cruel ridicule and often put a bitter edge on his own wit, which illustrates the old adage: "Speak not to a fool according to his own folly lest he believe himself as wise as thou."

Kings' Jesters.

Many interesting anecdotes of clowns and jesters have been recorded which shows their ready wit and good humor under the most trying circumstances. It is related that when a rich nobleman threatened to have the king's jester punished for his sharp tongue the jester appealed to the king for protection and was told:

"If you are punished I will have the informer hung a quarter of an hour afterwards."

"If It please your majesty," replied the clown, "I wish you would have him hung a quarter of an hour before which would save me a great deal of discomfort."

Again Charles, the Simple, of France, had a fool named Jean, in whom he placed great confidence.

"I wish we could change places just for a day," he said, "so that you could be king and I be a fool."

Jean looked disgusted and shook his head.

"What!" exclaimed the king, “would you be ashamed to be king of France?"

"No," was the quick reply, "but I would be ashamed to have such a fool."

Shakespeare, like Charles Lamb, loved a touch of the motley and used it freely in many a sense both joyful and sad. First came those clownish servants, half stupid, half cunning, "the two Dromios." Their mirth was the carelessness of youth and grave mistakes. Next comes the courtly fools in "As You Like It" and "Twelfth Night," the first being something of a politician and the latter something of a poet, both satirists on their surroundings and making the self-supposed wise men look foolish.

There is another fool in Shakespeare which is not the less real because he does not appear on the scene; it is Yorick, whose skull was thrown up from the grave as a reminder of his jests and gibes. His life was laughter. but his name had passed forever into a sigh.

"Alas! poor Yorick! I knew him well, Horatio. Here hung those lips that I have kissed, I know not how oft," exclaimed Hamlet, gazing at the chapfallen skull. Not a common fool, surely, was one who could inspire such love after turning to moulten clay.

The Clown at Gizeh.

Belzoni was a circus clown, who danced before the khedive of Egypt, and when that potentate tired of his fooling and betook himself to his water palace at Cairo, the man of grimaces and monkey tricks hied away to that city of the dead, upon the banks of the Nile, where the great pyramids lifted their heads, and where the ruined temples of Thebes scattered their fragments upon the sands. His was a serious and lofty purpose, and, imbued with the great desire of bettering the knowledge of the world he toiled and delved among the tombs of the mummied kings, spending what little he had earned by waving his bauble before the living, in digging among the bones of the dead.

Three thousand years before the birth of Christ, when Abraham went down into Egypt to buy cattle, taking with him his wife Sarah, who was fair of skin and light of hair, he sat himself down in the shadows of the pyramids, near the same city of Thebes, and the world wondered even then for what purpose they had been built, and who were the builders. With each cycle of the flying centuries theory after theory had arisen and every conceivable and inconceivable reason had been given for their origin, with a side suggestion or two as to their purpose. The pyramid of Cheops particularly interested Belzoni, and from his little claybound hut Gizeh, in the midst of the chicken ovens of the natives, he looked out across the sands through the moonlight of the Nile to this strange stone monument, and the smiling rock-faced sphinx at its side, wondering, as the world had done for centuries, as to its origin and purpose.

Each succeeding morning found him at the side of this miniature mountain of stone, and as hundreds of natives could be found to delve in the sands for eight cents a day he made his small earnings in the service of the khedive, stretch over many weeks of research, and finally forty feet beneath the surface of the sand he discovered a peculiar stone door that seemed to block a passageway leading to the interior. Between the cracks of the stone he thrust long poles, and finally, being thoroughly satisfied that there was a chamber upon the inside, as well satisfied, indeed, as the wondering Arabs were that he was mad, he finally succeeded in lifting the stone at the entrance, which slid upward in a groove like a window frame.

Sure enough there was a long, dark hallway, with an inscription upon the side showing that an Arab chief had traversed this same corridor a thousand years before, and down at its farthest extremity his patient labor was rewarded by finding a chamber, and in it sat a great stone, sarcophagus that held the mummied remains of Cheops, the Rameses of history, the Pharaoah so some believe, of the Bible. Like the discovery by Galileo of the rotund motion of the earth, this finding of Belzoni's staggered all belief and upset the theories of ages.

And then the man in caps and bells listened for the applause of the world, but it came not, or when it did come, it was in such faint and distant echoes that he heard it not; so he bowed thrice to the Columbine, and shaking his bauble aloft passed on, and the, sounds of his bells were drowned by the hoarse voice the multitude that sang "Ho for the merry life of the circus and ho for the joyous life of the clown."

Billy Fay was a clown and artist with the circus many years ago. He traveled from the sea to the mountains, and from the mountains again to the sea. He toiled like Belzoni in Egypt, and like him crossed the burning sands, His heart was that of an artist, and although he sang and danced in the circus he was never fond of the bells. Year in and year out, after weary days and nights of labor, he was up with the first birds of the sun and off in the woods or mountains, with his knapsack and palette and staff. He traveled through Italy, bringing back what mementoes and treasures his pencil found time to collect. The artists of that day knew poor Fay well. He was light of hair, light of heart, and with a cheery blue eye that sang as merry a song as one might hear in the canvas swell. Poor Fay had but one purpose, and that was to excell in art, but he is gone now, and though his rejected works were thick upon all hands while he lived and toiled, now they are as rare as the fame of the man himself, collected and guarded by jealous hands, who know always the patrons, if not the votaries, of art. Yes, poor Fay is gone. His strength could not endure the strife, and though the doctors said that consumption carried him off his brothers in motley knew that grief was at his heart. But Fay smilingly said "No," and whispering to his friends, who bent low at his pillow, he said: "Bury me by the ringside, where the tramp of the horses may be heard. Bury me where the rumble and the clatter of the chariots shall roll over my head, for, after all, grief comes not to the circus, and I must hear the music of cap and bells."

And he sang, "Ho! with the world, for the circus and its life from sorrow free."

The evolution of the clown from ancient jesters to the pantomimic revelers of today has been long and varied. In all probability Old Dan Rice will be remembered and referred to by circus-goers longer than any other clown who ever donned the motley or entered the sawdust arena, because of his long and variegated career as a circus manager and ability to entertain all classes of people.

Dan Rice.

He was born Michael McLarren, January 25, 1823, in New York city, at the corner of Mulberry and Chatham streets. His father was a lawyer and studied in the office of Aaron Burr; and his grandfather, Daniel McLarren, was at one time a partner of John Jacob Astor. "Dan's” father nicknamed him after Dan Rice, who was a famous clown in Ireland.

It is recorded that as a boy he delivered milk to his stepfather's customers at Freehold, N. J., but wearying of milk peddling, he drifted to Pittsburgh and became a stable boy, race-rider and hack-driver. Beginning his life as a showman by exhibiting an educated pig, in partnership with a man named Lindsey, but upon the death of the learned porker, Rice returned to the turf and joined "old" John Robinson's circus in 1839 where he won a prize of $50 in a dancing contest against Ed. Davis.

He sang old log cabin songs in the Harrison campaign, and in later years became obsessed with the idea that he would become president of the United States because of his general popularity and political knowledge, which was very extensive. He was also proficient in dramatic, musical and minstrel work, and it is of record that he appeared under the management of H. A. Taylor, the uncle of P. T. Barnum. Soon after he engaged with a circus to do a clown act, sing comic songs, appear in feats of strength, for which be was particularly noted, do a negro act and undertake to whip any three man who would volunteer to meet him after the tent was down. And he could do it. He also drove a four-horse team and did other odd jobs around the show, all for $15 a month and his board. His popularity became such that he was soon able to command a salary of $1,000 per week, which is probably the largest sum ever paid a clown for his services. For a number of years he received this munificent amount from such astute managers as Dr. Spaulding and Adam Forepaugh.

Dan Rice received the title of Colonel from President Taylor as a member of his personal staff and at the breaking out of the rebellion was active in raising the Eighty-third Pennsylvania Volunteers from Erie county. After the war he erected a monument to the memory of the patriots, at Girard, Pa., where he lived.

He was also an expert at animal training and developed, undoubtedly, the best trained horse the world ever saw, the stone-blind, milk-white stallion Excelsior, an animal of superior intelligence, but because of his affliction had to depend entirely upon the sense of smell and hearing, and his master, discovering this, taught him numerous tricks that no other horse could possibly comprehend, which made him an invaluable acquisition to the show.

There was hardly any field of endeavor in which Dan Rice could not excel, and the writer has a distinct recollection of acting as his manager on a lecture tour, after his becoming a temperance convert, when he delivered a discourse entitled "From the Ring to the Rostrum," which was very entertaining, but not a financial success. After his retirement from the arena he lived at Long Branch, N. J., where he died February 22, 1900.

Many other old-time circus clowns achieved notoriety and popularity, among them being Nat Austin, William Lake, Johnny Lowlow, Ben Maginley, Den Stone, Joe Pentland, Charles Seeley, Charley Yale, Pete Conklin, Johhny Patterson and others who were depended upon to fill the ring with song, story, jest and capers and entertain the audience by their individual antics and drollery.

The enlargement of the tents and consequent expansion of the arena necessitated more rings and a greater space to fill, which entirely eliminated the voice of the circus clown, and he was multiplied until a dozen or more "grimaldies" filled the rings and hippodrome track, to cut their capers and add pantomimic gestures to their tomfoolery.

The Clown of Pantomime.

The clown of the pantomime and the clown of the circus are two different creations, although they have much in common, and many of the best pantomimic exponents of the silent drama had their initiative with the circus. Taking such men as George H. Adams, "Grimaldi," and his brother, James R. Adams "Pico," who were the sons of the English clown, Charles H. Adams, and whose mother came from the famous Cooke family, from whence sprung W. W. Cole, who dated back in the circus business to 1737. Both of these boys began their career with the Cole circus, and were noted for their high stilt and acrobatic acts, and later filled star engagements with various pantomimic troupes in "Humpty Dumpty," "The Spider and the Fly," and other productions requiring clown or harlequin work, and more recently were prominent members of the New York Hippodrome Company.

George Ernest Cooke, known as "Ernest the Clown," was also a relative of Cole's, and traveled with his circus, both as a clown. and business representative, for years. He was considered one of the best all-round athletes, tumblers and leapers in the business, always being able to introduce a number of novelties, and, as he had been practically reared within the circus ring, he was proficient in many lines and developed a great deal of artistic ability in portrait painting and other art work while pursuing the circus profession.

George L. Fox. Of all the quaint men who will live in history George L. Fox will undoubtedly be remembered as the greatest of all pantomime clowns. Fox's greatest reputation was won in the pantomime of Humpty Dumpty, which ran at the Olympic Theater in New York for 483 consecutive performances. Fox did not miss one representation and became such a favorite that his name was a household word. He was often imitated in style and make-up as closely as physical conditions would allow. His illness, which compelled him to leave the stage, was attributed to the close and arduous work incidental to these performances.

Among other celebrated pantomimists of that period may be mentioned James F. Maffitt, who for many years was of the firm of Maffitt and Bartholemew, the latter usually playing pantaloon to Maffitt's clowning. Maffitt, in his career as an actor, portrayed many different characters in the drama. He was the original “Lone Fisherman" in Ed. E. Price's burlesque of Evangeline.

Al G. Field, today best known as the "minstrel king," was a circus clown of established reputation in his younger days, and filled important positions as a jester, manager, press agent and man of affairs with the Sells, Brothers, Welch & Sands and the Wallace shows before he became a black-faced comedian to head and manage what must now be recognized as the greatest minstrel company of any age, the great "Jack" Haverly not excepted. The full story of Mr. Field's varied career is best told in his own, book of incidents, published by himself, entitled "Watch Yourself Go By.”

Tony Denier was also a most gifted clown of the olden time, and at the of thirteen joined the circus, where for several years he devoted himself to pantomimic education and excelled as a tumbler and acrobat. In 1863 he filled an engagement with the Barnum show as a one-legged dancer, and in later years put his own "Humpty Dumpty" show on the road, he himself playing the clown until he had acquired a considerable fortune, when he devoted himself entirely to the management of the organization, engaging George H. Adams to fill the title role of Humpty Dumpty.

The Martinettas and Ravels were also great exponents of the pantomimic art, and filled long engagements in this and foreign countries in such fantastic plays as "Superba," "Fantasma," "The Spider and the Fly," and many Christmas pantomimes at Covent Garden, in London, and other notable playhouses.

Billy Burke.

In more recent years we have had such prominent characters as Billy Burke, the father of our fascinating "Little Billee Burke," of dramatic fame, whom I have known since she was a wee bit of a girl in her mother's arms. As I have frequently seen her father's portrait in a little silver frame on her dressing table, I am sure that she is proud of the fact that she came from an illustrious sire who was always the soul of good cheer and good fellowship and who was never at a loss for something unique with which to entertain the public.

Billy Burke was a man capable of playing many parts, often filling the position of stage manager, director and producer of plays, as well as being able to teach an elephant or a donkey the old clown's tricks and work in unison with these tremendous four-legged jokers. In this connection I must relate one incident that happened at Madison Square Garden the last season that "Billy" Burke was engaged with the Barnum & Bailey show, and in which he nearly lost his life. He was working the clown elephant Ruth in a series of comical stunts. For some unaccountable reason Ruth had taken a decided dislike to Billy and the tricks he had perpetrated upon her, and never lost an opportunity to get even. On this occasion she suddenly made a rush at her grotesque partner in the act, knocked him down with her trunk, rolled him over into the corner by the ring curb and tried to crush him with her head. She was only prevented from doing so by the curb of the ring, which held her back until a number of property men rushed to his rescue and beat off the enraged animal; but the public never knew but what this was a part of the act, although it came very near being Billy's finish. It took several severe lessons to teach Ruth the importance of being less earnest in all of her performances.

The list of the grotesque characters commonly known as clowns is long and interesting, but I shall not attempt to enumerate them all or speak of their various peculiarities. Among them, however, may be mentioned such men as Frank Oakley - "Slivers" - who was enthusiastic in his work, and his quaint costumes were always quite sufficient to create a laugh, while his monologue, "Baseball Game," became one of the distinctive features in his vast repertoire of comic characters.

Al Caron, Charles Caban, Billy Conrad, Harry Wentworth, Coco Herbert, Alex Siebert were all men of great versatility and unique entertainment in more ways than one.

Spader Johnson, widely known as "The King of the Clowns," was always a leader in the tented arena, and his tomfooleries have tickled tens of thousands in both hemispheres, as have also such grotesquely painted comedians as Dannie Ryan, Ed Kennedy, Frank Albertino, Steve Miaco, Harry Jerome, Chad Wertz, Tom McIntyre and hosts of other full-edged fools who have made the shows of all nations revel with laughter.

From time to time there have been several attempts to introduce lady clowns, but for some indecorous reason they have never been taken serious by the public, or, perhaps, I might say, they have been taken too seriously, as their artistic, feminine ways never seemed to appeal to the jokesmiths, who prefer buffoonry and knockabout antics to refined comedy, when it comes to the circus ring. While the dainty pierrot may appear fascinating in polka-dot flowing pantaloons, she is not capable of taking the crack of the ringmaster's whip or receiving the slap-ticks and knockabout performances of her fellow fun-makers. Neither are they experts as "muggers,” whose facial expressions convey various emotions. For these reasons they have been eliminated from the kingdom of the clown.

Tony Pastor.

Not the least of all the popular characters, in and out of the ring, was the universal favorite of the vaudeville stage, Tony Pastor, who was a circus clown in his early days, and up to the time of his death, a frequent visitor to the circus as a reminder of his early experiences. I think he was numbered as one of James A. Bailey's most congenial friends, as he was always a welcome guest, and they spent many hours together in talking over old times.

With a great deal of zest "Tony" would relate that he had never lost his interest in the circus; that he remembered having ridden an elephant in the parade, although he was never classed as a $10,000 beauty. He also recalled the fact. that the old-time wagon show was anything but a bed of roses and that they rarely ever got a bed of any kind. It was a sort of catch-as-catch-can in the wagon or out, in all sorts of weather, and he never saw a manager who would guarantee the weather and that he found it much easier to sing a comic song now and then and let more youthful performers entertain the public.

In conclusion it may be said that in the early days of the circus the clown depended upon his songs, stories and often local barter to create a laugh in the audience, but in the modern circus arena the voice became inaudible and the clown of today has developed into a grotesque pantomimist. He must create comedy without speaking a word; he must depend entirely upon costume, gesture and facial expression reinforced with clever properties or make-ups and travesties on present day foibles, or by-plays upon grotesque automobiles, automatic figures, assisted by trained dogs, pigs, monkeys or donkeys with many mishaps to make the audience sit up and take notice.

Comedy with the circus is a long way from being spontaneous. It is not only carefully prearranged, but in these days of rapid entertainment and changing ideas, the circus clown must be not only up-to-date, but strictly up to the minute. His comedy must have an element of travesty in it; it must be, to a certain extent, a burlesque on the things in the show or something in everyday life that cannot be mistaken for anything but good fun.

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