Print of the Day: The Fun & Frolic Lancers,

Here we see the sheet music cover for “Fun and Frolic Lancers” which was written by Warwick Williams (1846-unknown), and published by Francis Bros & Day. The cover shows a gaggle of circus folk and characters engaged in circus-type hi-jinks. I suppose one could call it “fun and frolic.”

This chromolithograph cover dates to the 1880s and is the work of the expert lithographer Alfred Concanen (1835-1886). At some point, it was backed with card.

It reads at the top:

INTRODUCING

TING, TING, THAT'S HOW THE BELL GOES - CLARA WIL YOU COME OUT TO-NIGHT - I KISSED HER UNDER
THE PARLOR STAIRS - TWO HUNDRED YEARS AGO - OH JOHNNY DON'T YOU GO TO SEA - DEAR ME - I'LL MEET HER
WHEN THE SUN GOES DOWN - TAKING OUT THE BABY - IT'S ALL UP WITH POOR TOMMY NOW - &c. &c. 

Print of the Day: The Greatest Show on Earth’s Circus Polka, 1942

Click image to enlarge

Poster for Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey
Kauffer, 1942
The Victoria & Albert Museum

The Circus Polka was an act which involved fifty elephants wearing tutus who were being ridden by dancers (also in tutus). Presumably, all and sundry would polka. I can’t imagine a pachyderm polka, but it seems to me to be something that an elephant wouldn’t really enjoy.

The routine was choreographed by the famed George Balanchine (1904-1983) to music by Igor Stravinsky (1882-1971) for the circus manager John Ringling North and under the direction of those lovely folks at the Barnum and Bailey company.

This peculiar elephant ballet was part of the 1942 season in New York’s Madison Square Garden. That season’s circus show was called “Holidays.” These events were always well-attended. Madison Square Garden had been the New York home of Barnum’s circus since 1881. The Ringling Brothers and Barnum and Bailey had been performing separately for decades, but often worked in unison, combining officially in 1919. So, by the time this pachyderm polka was staged with Balanchine and Stravinsky in 1942, the Ringling Brothers, Barnum and Bailey Circus was an institution.

This poster was one of many dramatic images which advertised the 1942 show, Here, we see, against a black background, two gray Indian elephants who have been stripped of their tusks, Both wear dancer’s tutus and are frozen in their choreography forever. A pirouetting dancer joins them. It reads:

THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH 
PRESENTS 
50 FAMOUS ELEPHANTS 
WITH BEAUTIFUL GIRLS.

IN AN ORIGINAL BALLET 
COMPOSED BY IGOR STRAVINSKY 
STAGED BY GEORGE BALANCHINE

As well as…

BUY DEFENSE BONDS

And

RINGLING BROS AND BARNUM & BAILEY

This is the work of Edward McKnight Kauffer (1890-1954) and the posters were printed in New York. 

Object of the Day: America Ahead

Click image to enlarge.

Well, well, well. What have we here? Something of a mystery, I think. Who doesn’t love a mystery? Actually, some people don’t. But, I do. So, let’s take a look.

Obviously, we have a trade card. No surprise. It’s Victorian. Also not a shock. Spools of thread—giant ones at that—are clearly involved. However, the maker of the thread is almost illegible due to the way the spools have been drawn. Foreshortening is the enemy of readability. What exactly is happening here? We see an elephant being forcibly dragged to America. Okay, then this is a card advertising the arrival of a product from somewhere else. Or is it? Is it elephants? Is it enormous thread? Is it horsies? Elephant saddles? No. I think not. Is it an ad for a specific elephant? He seems to be called Jumbo. But, aren’t all elephants?

Let’s make a list of our clues.

1. Elephant labeled as “Jumbo.”

2. Spools of thread with glandular problems.

3. America being somewhere other than where they are.

4. A parade of animals.

5. Violent abduction of said elephant.

So, what could all of this mean?

Let’s start with “Jumbo.” Could this be the well-known elephant of circus lore? Yes. Yes it could. And, it is. “Jumbo” was born in Africa in 1861. After he was captured, he was taken to Cairo and sold to a zoo in Paris. But, by 1865, the Paris Zoo had too many elephants, and so, the Parisians traded Jumbo to the London Zoological Gardens for a rhinoceros.

Poor Jumbo, in 1865, wasn’t so very jumbo. In fact, he was quite sickly and small. In London, he found a friend in the form of his keeper, Matthew Scott, who cared for Jumbo and grew him to a gargantuan and unusually large size—11 feet tall, weighing 6.5 tons. His trunk alone was 27 inches in circumference and he quickly became known as the largest elephant ever known in the world. He was christened “Jumbo.” Some believe that his name, possibly the first European use of the word which we now associate with largeness, was derived from a Swahili salutation which means both “Hello” and “Chief.” Others think the name came from the African word for elephant. 

Now, Jumbo wasn’t just big, he was sweet. He liked people. He enjoyed being around them—especially children and he delighted in giving rides to them. It’s thought that he gave thousands of rides to British school children during his time at the Zoological Gardens in London. HE quickly became their star attraction. 

But, Jumbo was getting older. Some of the zoo officials feared that as he aged, his gentle nature might fade and, given his enormity, he could be dangerous to the very children he loved.

Enter P.T. Barnum. Mr. Barnum (1810-1891) had a habit of showing up and causing trouble in his showy, hokey, fun and charming way. Barnum was a fan of Jumbo, and, when Mr. Barnum was a fan of something, he wanted it. And, Mr. Barnum always got what he wanted.

Barnum offered the London Zoological Gardens $10,000 American dollars for Jumbo, and, the zoo officials accepted. After all, they thought, that money could buy a lot of younger elephants who, though not as big, were probably—in their thinking—safer.

Outrage ensued. People all over Britain protested upon the announcement of Jumbo’s sale. Queen Victoria herself denounced the sale and demanded that Jumbo stay in London. The zoo officials quietly told Mr. Barnum that they would have to back out of the deal, but, as I said, Mr. Barnum wasn’t too keen on not getting what he wanted. Furthermore, if there’s any one thing to know about P.T. Barnum, it’s that he loved publicity—especially free publicity. And, so…as one does…he sued.

The press in both the U.S. and the U.K. went wild with the story which became an international controversy. In February of 1892, Barnum was sent a telegram from the London “Daily Telegraph” which asked the famous American under what conditions he might accept the cancellation of the sale of Jumbo.

His response was, “Hundred thousand pounds would be no inducement to cancel purchase.”

The decision was made that Barnum was in the right. But, Jumbo didn’t agree. He liked where he was. He liked the gardens. He liked the kids and he liked his keeper. When Barnum’s men came to collect their prize, Jumbo wouldn’t budge. He refused to leave the Zoological Gardens. That’s a lot of stubbornness. I have trouble moving Bertie when he’s not interested and he’s a twenty-something pound terrier, not a 6.5 ton elephant. So, I’m sure you can imagine that there was trouble ahead.

Finally, Jumbo was somehow convinced to leave. I suspect that his cooperation stemmed from the fact that he saw that his devoted trainer—the man who nurtured him to his exceptional size—was going to go with him.

Jumbo sailed from England on the freighter “Assyrian Monarch” and arrived in America on April 8, 1882.

It seems this card is accurate. Jumbo did, in fact, have to be forced to leave his home and travel across the sea to yet another continent. But, I don’t think he was restrained by giant spools of thread.

Let’s see what that’s all about.

The Ephemera Society of America tells us that after making numerous sensational headlines on two continents, Jumbo was a star, and being a star, his image was used for a plethora of advertising—a lot of it without the proper licensing, of course, and mostly without Barnum’s consent. But, still, Barnum concluded, publicity is publicity.

The card that I have here is not a British card as I originally thought. The arrival refers to Jumbo himself and capitalizes on his ordeal. This trade card was produced by the Willimantic Thread Company in the U.S. Originally, it had a caption which read:

JUMBO MUST GO, because drawn by Willimantic Thread! 

Hmmmm…I think not.

If you look closely, you can see that this card has been trimmed to fit into an album. When altered, it lost its caption, but I think we figured it out now.

One of many monuments to Jumbo.

By the way, Jumbo only lived three more years. He did not die of natural causes, but was, instead, oddly enough, hit by a train in Canada. Barnum, making sure to use every last bit of that elephant, made up a ridiculous story that Jumbo had died while trying to rescue a baby elephant, “Tom Thumb,” from being hit by the locomotive. But, that’s pure Barnum hokum. After his death, vets found that, over the years, Jumbo had eaten a lot of bizarre things that he shouldn’t have. Dozens of coins were found in his stomach. I guess kids gave him coins over the years. They also found lots of keys in there. Barnum did more atrocious things to him after the fact, too.

However, Jumbo had the last laugh. He is very fondly remembered. Sculptures and tributes and monuments were erected to the plucky pachyderm all over the world, and his name, now a popular word, will forever be associated with something of exceptional size. He inspired songs and countless works of art, and, in many ways, made the world pay close attention to how animals are treated.

Yay for Jumbo!

Print of the Day: The Fun & Frolic Lancers,

Here we see the sheet music cover for “Fun and Frolic Lancers” which was written by Warwick Williams (1846-unknown), and published by Francis Bros & Day. The cover shows a gaggle of circus folk and characters engaged in circus-type hi-jinks. I suppose one could call it “fun and frolic.”

This chromolithograph cover dates to the 1880s and is the work of the expert lithographer Alfred Concanen (1835-1886). At some point, it was backed with card.

It reads at the top:

INTRODUCING

TING, TING, THAT'S HOW THE BELL GOES - CLARA WIL YOU COME OUT TO-NIGHT - I KISSED HER UNDER
THE PARLOR STAIRS - TWO HUNDRED YEARS AGO - OH JOHNNY DON'T YOU GO TO SEA - DEAR ME - I'LL MEET HER
WHEN THE SUN GOES DOWN - TAKING OUT THE BABY - IT'S ALL UP WITH POOR TOMMY NOW - &c. &c. 

Print of the Day: The Greatest Show on Earth’s Circus Polka, 1942

Click image to enlarge

Poster for Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey
Kauffer, 1942
The Victoria & Albert Museum

The Circus Polka was an act which involved fifty elephants wearing tutus who were being ridden by dancers (also in tutus). Presumably, all and sundry would polka. I can’t imagine a pachyderm polka, but it seems to me to be something that an elephant wouldn’t really enjoy.

The routine was choreographed by the famed George Balanchine (1904-1983) to music by Igor Stravinsky (1882-1971) for the circus manager John Ringling North and under the direction of those lovely folks at the Barnum and Bailey company.

This peculiar elephant ballet was part of the 1942 season in New York’s Madison Square Garden. That season’s circus show was called “Holidays.” These events were always well-attended. Madison Square Garden had been the New York home of Barnum’s circus since 1881. The Ringling Brothers and Barnum and Bailey had been performing separately for decades, but often worked in unison, combining officially in 1919. So, by the time this pachyderm polka was staged with Balanchine and Stravinsky in 1942, the Ringling Brothers, Barnum and Bailey Circus was an institution.

This poster was one of many dramatic images which advertised the 1942 show, Here, we see, against a black background, two gray Indian elephants who have been stripped of their tusks, Both wear dancer’s tutus and are frozen in their choreography forever. A pirouetting dancer joins them. It reads:

THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH 
PRESENTS 
50 FAMOUS ELEPHANTS 
WITH BEAUTIFUL GIRLS.

IN AN ORIGINAL BALLET 
COMPOSED BY IGOR STRAVINSKY 
STAGED BY GEORGE BALANCHINE

As well as…

BUY DEFENSE BONDS

And

RINGLING BROS AND BARNUM & BAILEY

This is the work of Edward McKnight Kauffer (1890-1954) and the posters were printed in New York. 

Object of the Day: America Ahead

Click image to enlarge.

Well, well, well. What have we here? Something of a mystery, I think. Who doesn’t love a mystery? Actually, some people don’t. But, I do. So, let’s take a look.

Obviously, we have a trade card. No surprise. It’s Victorian. Also not a shock. Spools of thread—giant ones at that—are clearly involved. However, the maker of the thread is almost illegible due to the way the spools have been drawn. Foreshortening is the enemy of readability. What exactly is happening here? We see an elephant being forcibly dragged to America. Okay, then this is a card advertising the arrival of a product from somewhere else. Or is it? Is it elephants? Is it enormous thread? Is it horsies? Elephant saddles? No. I think not. Is it an ad for a specific elephant? He seems to be called Jumbo. But, aren’t all elephants?

Let’s make a list of our clues.

1. Elephant labeled as “Jumbo.”

2. Spools of thread with glandular problems.

3. America being somewhere other than where they are.

4. A parade of animals.

5. Violent abduction of said elephant.

So, what could all of this mean?

Let’s start with “Jumbo.” Could this be the well-known elephant of circus lore? Yes. Yes it could. And, it is. “Jumbo” was born in Africa in 1861. After he was captured, he was taken to Cairo and sold to a zoo in Paris. But, by 1865, the Paris Zoo had too many elephants, and so, the Parisians traded Jumbo to the London Zoological Gardens for a rhinoceros.

Poor Jumbo, in 1865, wasn’t so very jumbo. In fact, he was quite sickly and small. In London, he found a friend in the form of his keeper, Matthew Scott, who cared for Jumbo and grew him to a gargantuan and unusually large size—11 feet tall, weighing 6.5 tons. His trunk alone was 27 inches in circumference and he quickly became known as the largest elephant ever known in the world. He was christened “Jumbo.” Some believe that his name, possibly the first European use of the word which we now associate with largeness, was derived from a Swahili salutation which means both “Hello” and “Chief.” Others think the name came from the African word for elephant. 

Now, Jumbo wasn’t just big, he was sweet. He liked people. He enjoyed being around them—especially children and he delighted in giving rides to them. It’s thought that he gave thousands of rides to British school children during his time at the Zoological Gardens in London. HE quickly became their star attraction. 

But, Jumbo was getting older. Some of the zoo officials feared that as he aged, his gentle nature might fade and, given his enormity, he could be dangerous to the very children he loved.

Enter P.T. Barnum. Mr. Barnum (1810-1891) had a habit of showing up and causing trouble in his showy, hokey, fun and charming way. Barnum was a fan of Jumbo, and, when Mr. Barnum was a fan of something, he wanted it. And, Mr. Barnum always got what he wanted.

Barnum offered the London Zoological Gardens $10,000 American dollars for Jumbo, and, the zoo officials accepted. After all, they thought, that money could buy a lot of younger elephants who, though not as big, were probably—in their thinking—safer.

Outrage ensued. People all over Britain protested upon the announcement of Jumbo’s sale. Queen Victoria herself denounced the sale and demanded that Jumbo stay in London. The zoo officials quietly told Mr. Barnum that they would have to back out of the deal, but, as I said, Mr. Barnum wasn’t too keen on not getting what he wanted. Furthermore, if there’s any one thing to know about P.T. Barnum, it’s that he loved publicity—especially free publicity. And, so…as one does…he sued.

The press in both the U.S. and the U.K. went wild with the story which became an international controversy. In February of 1892, Barnum was sent a telegram from the London “Daily Telegraph” which asked the famous American under what conditions he might accept the cancellation of the sale of Jumbo.

His response was, “Hundred thousand pounds would be no inducement to cancel purchase.”

The decision was made that Barnum was in the right. But, Jumbo didn’t agree. He liked where he was. He liked the gardens. He liked the kids and he liked his keeper. When Barnum’s men came to collect their prize, Jumbo wouldn’t budge. He refused to leave the Zoological Gardens. That’s a lot of stubbornness. I have trouble moving Bertie when he’s not interested and he’s a twenty-something pound terrier, not a 6.5 ton elephant. So, I’m sure you can imagine that there was trouble ahead.

Finally, Jumbo was somehow convinced to leave. I suspect that his cooperation stemmed from the fact that he saw that his devoted trainer—the man who nurtured him to his exceptional size—was going to go with him.

Jumbo sailed from England on the freighter “Assyrian Monarch” and arrived in America on April 8, 1882.

It seems this card is accurate. Jumbo did, in fact, have to be forced to leave his home and travel across the sea to yet another continent. But, I don’t think he was restrained by giant spools of thread.

Let’s see what that’s all about.

The Ephemera Society of America tells us that after making numerous sensational headlines on two continents, Jumbo was a star, and being a star, his image was used for a plethora of advertising—a lot of it without the proper licensing, of course, and mostly without Barnum’s consent. But, still, Barnum concluded, publicity is publicity.

The card that I have here is not a British card as I originally thought. The arrival refers to Jumbo himself and capitalizes on his ordeal. This trade card was produced by the Willimantic Thread Company in the U.S. Originally, it had a caption which read:

JUMBO MUST GO, because drawn by Willimantic Thread! 

Hmmmm…I think not.

If you look closely, you can see that this card has been trimmed to fit into an album. When altered, it lost its caption, but I think we figured it out now.

One of many monuments to Jumbo.

By the way, Jumbo only lived three more years. He did not die of natural causes, but was, instead, oddly enough, hit by a train in Canada. Barnum, making sure to use every last bit of that elephant, made up a ridiculous story that Jumbo had died while trying to rescue a baby elephant, “Tom Thumb,” from being hit by the locomotive. But, that’s pure Barnum hokum. After his death, vets found that, over the years, Jumbo had eaten a lot of bizarre things that he shouldn’t have. Dozens of coins were found in his stomach. I guess kids gave him coins over the years. They also found lots of keys in there. Barnum did more atrocious things to him after the fact, too.

However, Jumbo had the last laugh. He is very fondly remembered. Sculptures and tributes and monuments were erected to the plucky pachyderm all over the world, and his name, now a popular word, will forever be associated with something of exceptional size. He inspired songs and countless works of art, and, in many ways, made the world pay close attention to how animals are treated.

Yay for Jumbo!