My memories of Clacton in 1982 are a hazy mixture of imagination, Spider-Man, Superman and Batman costumes, the smell of jacket potatos mixed with the salty air, a huge amount of freedom that would shock today's helicoptor parents, a videogame arcade, fairground rides, Dracula ice lollies, adventures around a caravan site, losing at least one milk tooth and many, many other things that concern a five year old turning six. I was a circus kid and our circus had stopped touring.
Around me raged drama, anxiety, laughter, conflict and all the trappings of the great traditional circus in its last valiant death throes; spectucular live performances juxtaposed against a world set for change but not quite there yet. My father's dreams and my mother's nostalgia.
We were working in buidings now, like our cultural ancestors in the
Victorian era. Back then temporary circus buildings were replaced by
permanent structures like the Hippodrome in anticipation of ever-growing
circuses. Now we had swapped in our canvas to work in ice rinks,
theatres and pavillion buildings. We arrived just two years into the
pier being bought by a consortium of businessmen who sought to bring
back the dolpinarium and renovate the old Jolly Roger building. Apparently this would be the last performance given at the building. Now,
in 2017, the old structure is about to host a circus again.
My father recently discussed our time at Clacton. Here are his words:
I hope this post isn't premature, but I have finally got round to looking into producing the third edition of "The Legend of Salt and Sauce". At this present time I am going back through my research and contacting the various people who helped my father and I in the development of the book. If anyone reading this blog can assist, please do not hesitate in emailing me. I hope to include new contemporary illustrations and photographs of the various elephants mentioned in the book as well various writing revisions and hopefully some new information. This time I wish the book to be available in electronic format as well as printed form, allowing it to stay print.
It was always a delight when I discover an another angle on the history covered in my book, The Legend of Salt and Sauce. Of course, my story is not just the story of these two elephants. It is also the story of the people who worked with them and, in this instance, the other elephants connected to them. The first part of my book tells the life story of the elephant trainer, George William Lockhart. Lockhart would meet his untimely demise at Whalthamstow Goods Yard when Sauce accidentally crushed him to death. However, before he even owned Salt, Sauce, Mustard, Pepper, Vinegar and Mustard II, he had a trio of elephants that brought him fame and renown all over Europe, in Russia and in America. These were Boney, Molly and Waddy.
Recently I wrote a rather lengthy comment on a thread I created that linked my article "Circus and Other 'Low' Arts". It was a flippant expression of my positive feelings towards the culture and society where I was raised. It was a type of call-to-arms and is idyllic in its phrasing. Nevertheless, every statement I made is a statement supported by facts and I have provided footnotes to justify them. It does not dismiss the very real problems faced by circuses and I am all too aware of the many problems circus has brought on itself. However, just once in a while I think we should grant ourselves some interval time...
The following was very kindly given to my by Professor Noriko Onoe. It is a summary of her academic article on the author Paul Gallico and circus culture. The main article cites "The Legend of Salt and Sauce" as a reference, but it is written in Japanese. The book is not mentioned in the summary, but it is a fascinating summary nonetheless.
Reading through the sad but beautifully written
eulogy/obituary of Ken MacManus by Samanatha Cartmel (John Darnell's
girlfriend. John also contributed to the piece), I cannot begin to explain how
strange it feels to have arrived at this time. I was shocked at the feeling of
losing someone who was a big part of my growing up. These people seem somehow
eternal. Ken was a dear friend of my parents' back when they ran their own
circus in the late '70s and early '80s. Ken was part of the Mohawks riding act
and later became our ringmaster.
Seems like an age since I last posted on here. An email came in from my cousin Jim Stockley recently regarding some circus history relating to the elephants Salt and Sauce. He forwarded us this enquiry left on the Circus History website.
Lion tamer 1960s, 01 Aug 2012 - I am trying to trace the name and date of death of a lion tamer that was killed in the ring in a circus in the United Kingdom in the sixties. The details I have are vague, but there is a background and a reason for trying to find out. My mother recently passed away and I know that although she got engaged to my father in 1964, they had unknowingly been at the same circus performance a few years earlier where the lion-tamer had got killed. I do not know the exact year - I guess it must have been after 1960 - and it would have been in the Midlands of the UK, probably Birmingham or Wolverhampton. Any ideas? Can you help from such vague information?
A year or so back I was made aware that journalist Sylvia Kent was writing a piece on Joan Rosaire. Joan is an extraordinary circus horse trainer from an amazing circus family. The Rosaires, and in particular Joan's Uncle Ivor, were a key part of my book "The Legend of Salt and Sauce". Their own story of hardship and success in the circus world enchanted such contemporary writers as Ruth Manning-Saunders and Rupert Croft Cooke.
I don't know how seeing the actual online article has slipped me by, but by chance I stumbled across it today. Sylvia has several very entertaining and informative pieces on the Rosaires that I would highly recommend you read.
After
filming all over Europe, the US, Canada, and Peru, editing has begun on the
film. Director / Producer Angela Snow, and Emmy Award winner editor, Emma
Morris, are putting 200 hours of circus footage together to reveal the
behind the scenes life, history, and culture of circus on an international
scale as never seen before.
Image via WikipediaIt's not even a year on from the Welsh TV show, "Coming Home" revealing the wild animal training ancestry of actor Michael Sheen and the nationwide equivalent, "Who Do You Think You Are?" has established another celebrity circus connection. Larry Lamb, who used to play "Eastenders" soap opera villain "evil" Archie Mitchell and as Mick Shipman in the hit comedy series "Gavin and Stacey", told The Mirror and Daily Mail newspapers that he didn't know much about his heritage due to his mother being adopted. Press reports of the show reveal that Lamb's great-great uncle was Thomas Day known as "Martini Bartlett the Lion King". What they don't expand - and hopefully the show will - is that Day was married to Pauline "Kit" Chipperfield. Chipperfield, a relation of mine on my maternal side, and therefore part of another circus family famed for wild animal training and presenting. Day was also the brother of James "Wild Beast" Day of the once famous Day's Menagerie.
Image via WikipediaTom Norman was a pioneer of the fairground industry in Victorian Britain. He was famed for his presentation of the freak-show. Norman was known for the way he would blend the accepted "science" of the era with outright fantasy to provide a back-story for the various "freaks" that were exhibited on his fairs.
The most famous of Norman's employees was Joseph Merrick "The Elephant Man". Contrary to popular belief, largely put across in David Lynch's* fictionalized account of Merrick's life, there is scant evidence that disabled people were especially abused or used like slaves. Often the opportunity to earn by exploiting one's condition - and Merrick was on 50/50 box office split with Norman - was a better alternative to begging, hawking goods or a life in the workhouse. Details of this and the bad representation that sideshows, circuses and their closely related forms of entertainment endure to this day were presented in my article "Circus and Other 'Low' Arts: A Defence"
Cover via Amazon“Hike! Urgh! Hike! Urgh!” My toddler daughter is addicted to Dumbo and the words of that song, along with most of the others, now regularly haunt my waking thoughts. Romanticists would say “It’s in her blood”. True, her grandfather, great grandfather, great uncle and cousins have all been circus elephant trainers at some time and she has a potential unbroken performing lineage on my mother’s side that stretches back 300 years. However, the more sceptical would say that other influences around her might have something more to do with it. Anyway, for those of you who know the film might recall that the song I was referring to is the “Song of the Roustabouts”. Roustabout isn’t a term I have ever heard used in UK circus culture, but it refers to what we would call “tent-men”. As the name implies, these are the men who put up the Big Top along with the rest of the show. In “Dumbo” the fantastical scene that accompanies this song sees the tent-men being assisted not by the show’s fellow human performers, but by the circus elephants.
Image by LiuTao via Flick
It's been three years since "The Legend of Salt Sauce" was published. Since then I have noticed circus elephants appear in the media on a few occasions. This year sees the release of the movie "Water for Elephants", a Hollywood adaptation of Sarah Gruen's circus novel of the same name. I haven't seen the film yet, but my cousin, a wild animal trainer in South Africa, got to see the film before its release in the US and UK. Here is his "impression" of the film. I think it provides a rather unique insight given that his respective backgrounds include a background in traditional circus (both Jim and my family were working on circuses during the Prohibition era the film is set) and a strong working knowledge in the film industry.
With “The Legend of Salt and Sauce” now reaching its second edition’s second anniversary, it has been a little while now since I have attended any signings. Therefore my father and I were delighted to visit the Trefoil Guild to give a one hour talk and PowerPoint presentation on our book. When we launched the first edition of the book it was in front of the Circus Friends Association. When we launched the second edition it was in front of the Wolverhampton Historical Society. Both institutions obviously had a strong interest in the subject. On other occasions we have done signings for zoo enthusiasts and historians who were either interested in the general subject of performing animals in music halls, zoos and circuses or in how the legend of these two elephants impacted on their locality. However, from time to time we get requests from societies – like the Ladies Probus Club – who booked us on the basis of the unusual quality of our subject. The Trefoil Club was this sort of booking.
It is always interesting to not only help bring people’s memories alive again – some of our audience members were into their 80s – but also to listen to their accounts of the times I only know through researching documents, books, photographs and newspaper articles. The era Salt and Sauce lived in was one that dramatically changed around the time their demise thus helping to condemn these once exceptionally well-known elephants to the “forgotten history” archives. Although none of those who attended our talk remembered these elephants - despite one contemporary author quoted in my book calling them the most famous elephants of their time - they did have very fond memories of my family’s elephants. One lady even had several photographs she had published taken in the early ‘60s of my family’s elephants being walked from the now non-existent Chipping Norton station. Despite being interested and buying plenty of copies of our book, much of the discussion and questions centred on my father’s involvement with my grandparents’ large number of elephants.
One thing I got very used to during my research for my first book was the unreliability of witness testimony in the circus world. Much of what had been told and published was purposefully designed to enhance the career of the narrator. After all, that is the nature of showbusiness. It is not always excusable, but at least understandable. My job was to present as honest a picture as I could by using my lived knowledge of being a part of an old circus family and my evolving skills as an historical investigator. However, as I began to delve deeper into the old reports, show programmes and reports from independent eyewitnesses I began to uncover a reality that has gradually been erased from my country’s consciousness. Forgotten histories, in general, are an interest of mine, but as time goes on I have become more shocked than ever at how much my culture has been purposefully airbrushed out. There are many examples, much of which I put down to the UK’s collective cultural flaw of snobbery, are discussed in my book. However, recently the whole issue has come closer to home than I find comfortable.
Early in March 2010 I was contacted by a postcard collector called Mark Pearce. Mark had come across an historical postcard picturing four young elephants stood with a group of people outside a possible Music Hall venue. According to Mark the street is one in Hastings, East Essex. He reports that the message on the card’s reverse has been partially erased, but “Lockhart’s Elephants” is clearly visible. The stamp was dated 1906, but Mark was aware that didn’t necessarily indicate the year the photograph was taken.
The venue looks like it might have been the Empire of Varieties, built in 1899 by Ernest Runtz. According to “theatre buff” Alan Chudey it became known as the Hastings “Hippodrome” in around 1907. The turn of the century was a very common time for circus and Music Hall buildings to be constructed, and we can see this happening all over the UK. It was later used as a cinema and then gutted in 1978 to be used as an amusement arcade.
Henry James Lockhart (real name Locker) was an elephant trainer/presenter born to Sam and Hannah Lockhart in 1861 in London. Henry, known mainly as Harry, was the youngest of the Lockhart brothers. His elder brothers, George and Sam worked together as bareback horse riders and tumblers in the circus before a riding accident broke George’s hip and severed the brothers’ working relationship. Sam sought his fortune at the tea plantation in Ceylon (now Sri Lanka), but impressed by the locals’ work with elephants decided to embark on a career as an elephant trainer, which brought him back to the world of circus and Music Hall. Having recovered from his injury George followed suite and developed his own elephant act. Both these brothers became very famous in their own time, in Europe, Russia and the USA. A descendent of theirs, James Pinder has argued that jealousy inspired the elder brother, George, to become an elephant trainer and it is implied his desire to match his brother’s celebrity status, which he almost did, drove him to the tragic end that saw him crushed to death by an elephant at Walthamstow goods yard. What is rarely talked about, however, is the life of the last brother who met a tragic and far earlier demise than George.
The following is a response written by my father to a post on the excellent "Circus NO SPIN Zone" blog by Wade Burk. Fritz Schulz died on 1 February 2010 at 7am in Australia at 99 years of age. He was a celebrated and highly talented trainer who was once employed by the legendary Alfred Court, the man who inspired my father's circus career. The response my father dictated to me was at the request of Wade to give more details on this exceptional trainer's life. Please note it was written for a circus historian and trainer audience. However, it will serve as the basis for the obiturary we will write together for the "King Pole" magazine:
This was very sad news. He was the last of the "Alfred Court Trainers". He joined Court from Circus Sarasani on a recommendation by Max Stolle, where he had been presenting a group of 12 tigers. He took Court's best mixed group over from Louis Kovac (not to be confused with Harry Kovar). It consisted of six male lions, two tigers (one spare tiger), three leopards, three polar bears, two Himalayan black bears and two Great Dane dogs. Occasionally it included a jaguar as well, but this particular animal moved from group to group, so it is hard to keep track of it. It was in the Harry Kovar mixed group when they opened with Ringling Brothers, Barnum and Bailey, as Court took the leopards out of two of the groups to put into his mixed panther act.
By the time Schulz's act reached USA there were only two leopards working, as he lost one, Lisha, in 1939 when working for Circus Scott, Sweden. His booking with Circus Scott was a sudden decision based on an outbreak of Foot and Mouth Disease in Switzerland in 1938 when he was working for Circus Knie. Although the disease didn’t affect his animals it curtailed the tour for Knie. The assistant for the act was Joe Walch who later took over one of the mixed groups. Walch was also billed as Zappell.
The picture showing the sit-up was taken in 1939 in the Ringling Brothers, Barnum and Bailey Circus winter quarters. You can see a Himalayan bear standing up on the far right. This was Violetta. The other Himalayan bear that stood up next to her was killed in a fight upon arrival. The other bear was substituted by an American black bear, as they couldn't find any Himalayans in USA.
Schulz was interned in 1943 along with the other famous German trainer, Erik Hagenbeck at FortMeat outside Baltimore. Schulz was eventually released in 1945, but never returned to Alfred Court. He went to Australia to take over from May Kovar on her recommendation. She was working a group of male lions and was having problems and wanted out. Harry, her husband, had already died as a result of the Hartford fire.
The captain corresponded with me during the mid '80s when I started making my first big mixed group. He was a great help. He even contemplated coming over, but it never happened. I was planning to visit him this year, which is something I now wish I had done earlier.
Alfred Court had a very high regard for Schulz's work. He was impressed when the act had opened at Blackpool in 1938. He asked Schulz if he could try to train one of the tigers to roll over. By the time he returned it was already doing it in the show! In those days the roll over trick, just with one animal, was quite an achievement.
I intend to write a full obituary for the King Pole magazine in the UK. We will post this up on the blog www.jamieclubb.blogspot.com
In recent times I have become almost as interested in methods to study history as I have in the actual subjects. This has led me to read Richard J. Evans’ book “In Defence of History”. So far, it is an engrossing read that details the history of history and the various competing methods that have evolved over time. I was particularly fascinated in the many attempts to define history as a science, even a social or “weak” science, which it does not happily fit. Nevertheless, the struggle to keep history as an objective study of the past and to establish “facts” is a valiant one, especially in the face of postmodern ideas that have challenged the validity of history altogether. Anyway, having only got through the first few chapters I was delighted to come across a passage that mentions a member of my historicalculture, a circus man, “Lord” George Sanger.
Sanger crops up in my book “The Legend of Salt and Sauce” and a relation of his, George Sanger Coleman, in “The Sanger Story”, gave me an interesting if dramatic description of one the characters I was researching, “Lieutenant” Frank Taylor (Aka Alpine Charlie). “Lord” George and his brother “Lord” John Sanger hobnobbed with royalty and ran a circus in the later 19th and early 20th century. George is known for making a presentation to Queen Victoria. A disease similar to the one that almost killed the elephant Salt even bore the Sanger name when it wiped out of their herds. George was murdered in 1911, providing a dramatic ending to a dramatic life.
“In Defence of History” cites Sanger as being a notorious source for another murder, the alleged kicking to death of a gingerbread salesman by a drunken mob in 1850 at the Stalybridge Wakes. His memoirs had been read by historian, George Kitson Clark and referenced in his book on Victorian England. The report was then repeated as an historical “fact”. According to Richard J. Evans no contemporary reports support this story. There are detailed newspaper reports of the fair, which included archery, morris dancing and a description of an ascent in a balloon. In fact, very little drunkeness was reported at all. We cannot just dismiss Sanger's report, but its validity should be held in question. I spoke quite extensively in “The Legend of Salt and Sauce” about the way fanciful tales were woven around various events in circus history. This helped contribute to my fascination in the way fiction becomes “fact” if a certain story is not checked, but repeated without question and then passed on.
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