“It Is The Front Of The Show That Gets The Dough” That maxim of the sideshow business from it’s earliest days– either originally coined by banner painter E.H. Caldwell, or at least popularized by him– tells us all we need to know as to why sideshow banners must lie so well, and so often.

To put it another way– and to paraphrase showman Kroger Babb– the sideshow banner is “the sizzle that sells the steak.”

In this article I hope to show various banners and the reality behind their performers.

(To be continued).

by John Strausbaugh

From the 15th through the 19th centuries, Europeans were engaged in a prolonged epoch of exploration and expansion, during which they would exploit their technological advantages to extend their power and influence around the globe. But only a minority of Europeans actually ever saw the lands and peoples they were conquering; the vast majority of Europeans, excepting sailors and those who shipped out or were packed off to the colonies, lived and died very close to the place where they were born.

So the explorers, sailors and adventurers brought the world to them. Along with their stories, they hauled back specimens of exotic plants, animals and cultures by the trunk-, boat- and caravan-load. Much of this nimble-fingered acquisitiveness was in the service of genuine scientific discovery; but much was purely in aid of show biz. Humans have an insatiable curiosity for the rare, the exotic, the freak and the new. The reality tv and Jerry Springers of the early 21st century can trace a direct lineage back through the freak shows and circuses of the early 20th, to Barnum’s American Museum in the 19th, to the 17th-century cabinet of curiosities–right back to the first West Africans kidnapped to Portugal to amuse and edify the court of Prince Henry the Navigator in 1441. In the era of global European expansionism, it mattered little to the audience if the rarity on display was a Saharan camel, a two-headed goat, a Hottentot or a Navajo. It was all curious and fascinating, sometimes frightening, sometimes sexy. Most importantly, it was out of the ordinary, appearing in places and at a time when the ordinary could be very ordinary indeed.

Of the old time gaff makers’ creations, The Nelson Supply House’s “Mummified Curiosities” are among the most gruesomely beautiful, most fully conceived attractions ever sold. The imagination and quality which went into creating them allowed Nelson to sell his creations “C.O.D. with the privilege of examination”(1). But proprietor William “Billy” Nelson didn’t just sell you a $25 papier-mâché gaff— he sold you a whole show. Supplying the banners, a scripted pitch, and the attraction itself, Nelson generated a whole business for the showman. All the would-be showman had to supply was the tent and the ticket-box.

That so many of these fragile creatures have survived 90-100 years intact is testament to their value as objects with continuing power to amaze. Up until the1990’s Ward Hall still carried a couple of Nelson mummies on his show.(2)

From about 1890 Nelson advertised his creations in The New York Clipper, including a “Wonderful SERPENT CHICKEN” and “CAT WITH TWO HEADS.”(3)

Nelson advertised in his “LIST No. 10” that “A Lecture is sent with Each Attraction,” and most of the attractions sold could be purchased with the banners reproduced above, or without.

Considering that the cost of the banner was an expensive $15 on this 1930’s list, perhaps many showmen had their own made, as even in the late 1940’s companies like George Bellis would sell you a pre-painted banner for as little as $9.(6) Certainly the quality of the banner art shown in Nelson’s list is eye-catching and original— so much so that these banners today could bring a small fortune with collectors.

In addition to Billy Nelson’s own mythological creations, such as “TWO HEADED CHINESE PA-LU-CA,” he also advertised several gaffed freak attractions which may be more familiar to today’s sideshow fan and historian. For in addition to creating “Strange, Remarkable, Curiosities and Monstrosities, both Animal and Human,” he also creates what he calls “Mummified Reproductions of the World’s Greatest Side Show Wonders who once lived and were exhibited alive.”

These “Reproductions” included “Antonio, The Italian Twins,” i.e. “The Tocci Brothers” (“Weight 125 lbs.”); “Labow, The Egyptian Double Boy,” i.e. “Laloo” (“This is a Money Getter….There is a Boy of This Kind Now Alive on Exhibition”); “The Grown Together Girls,” i.e. “The Hilton Sisters” (“We [also] have a small grown together girls about 3-1/2 ft. high, girls about 14 years old”). These appear in his list with photos of the real Tocci Brothers and Laloo, and could also be purchased with banners.

By selling “Mummified Reproductions” of living sideshow acts— which were no doubt billed on the outside as the real thing— Nelson embodied the wisdom that in sideshow the banner was often more important than the actual exhibit. Of course the Nelson “Mummified Reproduction” inside the tent had to be pretty good, otherwise the quantity of beefs might bring the show more heat than it needed.

While mass-producing his gaffs could have made Billy Nelson rich, little is know about his actual enterprise. We only know that he made a good enough living from it to give up “”practically a lifetime in the Show Business as manager, Performer, Speiler and Lecturer with Circuses, Museums, Wild West and Carnivals….”(7)

While Nelson was without doubt a talented artist imbued with imagination and skill, he was, if nothing else, a showman first. He understood that it was ultimately about getting the nickels and dimes and quarters from the marks. And since the show was exactly just that, it was easy for him to advertise his “Two Headed Hockadola” as:

“…a thousand miles ahead of dancing girls, wild men, or snake eaters. A dead man can get money with it.” (8)

And a living man could probably do pretty good too.

— D.B. Doghouse, December 2005.

REFERENCES (see below)

This page last updated December 26, 2005.

(1) “LIST No. 10,” The Nelson Supply House. South Boston, MA (ca. 1930)

(2) Stencell, A. W. “Seeing Is Believing: America’s Sideshows”. Canada: ECW Press, 2002. p.41.

(3) Ibid. p. 39.

(4) Ibid. p. 40.

(5) John Robinson, Sideshow World (www.sideshowworld.com)

(6) In conversation with Ward Hall, September 2005.

(7) “LIST No. 10,” The Nelson Supply House. South Boston, MA (ca. 1930)

(8) Stencell, A. W. “Seeing Is Believing: America’s Sideshows”. Canada: ECW Press, 2002. p.40

Shown below: The details on this Nelson mermaid show why his work was considered the best in the business. From 1909 (4) until at least 1938, (5) Nelson continued to sell such creatures (and banners) as KING JACK-A-LOO-PA, The

By D.B. Doghouse

“Painted wings and Giant’s Rings make way for other toys…..” — Puff The Magic Dragon (1962)

1941– Elbow-to-elbow, the heat inside the old canvas-covered 10-and-1 holds the coppery smell of sweat and new sawdust—and for those who are “with it”— the smell of MONEY. In front of the small painted bally stage a chaotic mass of kids, a few old farmers, some Bryl-Creamed swells, and powdered church ladies push forward as AL TOMAINI— towering no less than 7 Feet 4 Inches tall– starts his big pitch:

“And notice the size of the hands—watch the hand please—and the size of the ring I have here, so large you can pass a silver half a dollar right through the center of the ring…. Watch this, a silver half a dollar right through the Giant’s lucky ring, believe it or not…. Right through the center of the ring…. Now each one of these rings have my name and occupation engraved on them, and I’m going to pass them out now for souvenirs, and this is how I do it….”

The eyes of the crowd follow the heavy lead-colored baubles held high above their natural gaze, impossibly unaware of the wire recording apparatus preserving their laughter and awe for posterity. That 70 years later folks who have never seen a carnival GIANT onstage, would be listening to this same Giant’s Ring pitch:

“I have here a little booklet, tells you all about our married life, has the life story, photographs of both of us and ten questions and answers pertaining to our married life and Now all you care to know about us two is in this booklet…. Now we sell the booklet for 10¢ and for each and every booklet we give away one of these giant lucky rings…. Now if you care to take home an interesting souvenir of the circus, hold up your dimes and I’ll be very glad to wait on you…. 10¢ is all they are….” — Recorded on Strates Shows, 1941 (from The Library of Congress Radio Research Project, Archive of Folk Culture, transcribed by TK).

In those days, and in all the days that the show came to town, enterprising freaks of every stripe dinged the marks with pitch books and assorted novelties– such as midgets who peddled miniature bibles, and the armless who hustled feet-written autographed pitchcards. But the sideshow Giant had a brilliant twist on the pitch peculiar to his species, with an aptly fitting souvenir that other freaks could never have designed so perfectly. Promoted and pitched “direct from the Giant’s own fingers,” Giant’s Rings became a singular method of extracting coinage from the masses that wanted a nickel’s worth of the Giant’s unknowable physical body, a dime’s worth of his freak soul.

Purchased by the gross or in thousand lots— or even manufactured at home in the off-season— for a half-cent or less outlay per piece, the Giant could multiply his investment 25- or even 50-fold. How many were sold over the years is unknown, but by looking at what’s still hanging around, it was many tens of thousands.

Absent the performance documented above, we are left with these plain objects, purported to be the right size for the Giant to wear. Faux adornments cheap and inelegant enough to near universally bear the Giant’s name, his height, his billing, and on Cliff Thompson’s ring, his weight– 460 pounds. These ubiquitous fat trinkets have outlasted most other sideshow pitch items owing to their relative indestructibility, instant novelty, and ability to retell the story—the Giant’s pitch– decades later.

Yet amazingly, for such a unique product marketed and sold for some sixty years— from the early 1900’s through the mid-1960’s at circuses, carnivals, world’s fairs, and dime museums — nothing has been written. As one collector has rightly pointed out, one good reason for this lack of ink is that unlike other collected objects of the sideshow, Giant’s Rings are monolithic—i.e. they contain no inherent image, reveal at first glance neither date nor clue as to their origin, and are unable to speak of who bought, sold, or made them. Devoid of the context of the sideshow, their impenetrability as souvenirs is nearly complete.

Cheap Metal Clinkers

The rings have been found almost everywhere— in antiques stores, stuck in a great aunt’s jewelry box, in a tackle box at an estate sale, dug with aid of a metal detector from an old fair grounds—but as with most collectibles these days, eBay is the clearing house for such obscure items. Giant’s Rings sell for as little as $10.00 there on a regular basis, though the scarcer rings regularly bring $50-60. The auction record, as far as this author has seen, is for a very rare green variety of an already rare Gottlieb Fischer ceramic ring that went for $576 in 2009. Some other rare rings not yet seen at auction are the Lucky Horseshoe in white plastic, and the “Star” ring—see below.

After personal examination of some 60 rings– 45 being unique designs– many common elements are repeated. All the rings examined have between a 1.25” (George Auger’s) to just slightly over 1.5” (Johann Petursson’s) inner diameter. All but a few of the rings appear to be made of lead or “pot metal,” although at least one ceramic design is known, and many were produced in plastic in later years. While a few of the metal rings were plated (or painted) gold or silver, and are shiny, most are dull gray or lead colored. The plastic varieties have been found in many different colors.

Raised letters are a feature of most with the exception of the incised writing on the J.G. Tarver Texas Giant ring, the rarer Johan Aasen ”Motion Picture Giant” ring (misspelled “Johan Assen”) and the Dreamland Sideshow rings. The technology of making these rings is decidedly low-tech, requiring only a mold of a hard metal into which molten metal can be poured. With a relatively low melting point of 786° F (419° C), zinc is often alloyed with other metals including lead (melting point 620° F, 327° C), and tin (450° F, 232° C) to make the “pot metal” rings.

Sometimes the difference between similar specimens is simply the appearance of cast marks—in the form of ridges formed when the two parts of the mold were uneven– with some collectors classifying these as a unique designs to be collected and designated as separate versions.

Pot metal is sometimes called “white metal” or “monkey metal.” It has a tendency to mar, distort, crack, and pit with age, hence the condition of some of the rings examined. Despite these facts, pot metal is more resilient than plain lead. Many of the earliest Giant’s Rings that appear to be made of plain lead have worn-down lettering on the face from age and handling, and are generally nicked and abraded. Lead may also have been a poor choice for the miles of rough traveling the shows had to do, as lead is very soft and carrying these rings on the road as pitch items may have damaged many of them past the point of salability.

Metal rings may come in both a painted (or plated) version in gold or silver, and a plain cast dull gray metal version. While some rings actually appear to have been painted, Giant’s Ring collector and sideshow historian Bob Blackmar believes that many, if not all of the metal rings thus colored, were plated. The Eddie Carmel generic “Lucky” ring, while known to be rare in white, is mostly seen in gold, and comes in both a gold metal plated version, as well as a “vacuum plated” plastic version. This “Lucky” ring is also the only ring design known to have been used by two different Giants, as Dave Ballard made the same ring in red or orange colored plastic.

Clear physical evidence has emerged proving that at least one Giant ordered his rings from a jobber or small manufacturer with the discovery of an entire cardboard box of unused rings owned by one current collector. These relics can be found still neatly wrapped in light blue tissue paper, six to a bundle, the box holding some 500 rings. When he purchased the box of rings from a showman in the 1970’s he was told that they came from “the little Jewish guy in New York City who made all the castings for the giants.” This small time jobber reportedly made the rings for many Giants, “faster, cheaper and better.” More investigation should eventually lead to proof of this outside manufacturing of the rings, though this contradicts the view held by some collectors that the Giant’s themselves made most of the rings they pitched.

What can be confirmed is that the metal ring molds of The Icelandic Giant, Johann Petursson, were discovered in his estate at the time of his death, and still exist. This and the remembrance of Judy Tomaini Rock, daughter of the Giant Al Tomaini, that her father poured lead himself in the off season into the steel molds, which were “designed by the metal shops” prove that some of the rings sold in the later years were a home based enterprise.

More recently (in 2012), a 6-ring injection mold for the above-mentioned “Lucky Horseshoe” ring came up for bid on eBay. The seller says the metal mold was discovered in a “truck full of old injector parts and molds from a man from out of Florida that was going out of business.” His set the starting bid price on eBay at an incredible $55,000. He later reduced the price to a “Buy-It-Now” of $30,000. To the best of this author’s knowledge the mold was never sold.

Despite the variety and number of different rings noted, 90% of the metal ones produced in the 1920’s-1950’s appear to have been made from the same modified original design, as the size and shape of rings made years apart, and from various Giants are nearly exact. Perhaps one manufacturer was originally hired to make the earliest rings, and then the same design was repeated, changing mainly the lettering on the face, and sometimes the side scrolls. Or more likely, enterprising Giants (or their managers) made new molds from existing rings of competing Giants. It would be simple enough to do this even now, creating in this day and age, counterfeit collectibles.

Counterfeit Rings?

In correspondence with collectors, the subject of fakes seems to come up frequently. On one collector’s authority at least two rings are currently being counterfeited. Judging from the number of Giant’s Rings that hit eBay weekly, this is not impossible to believe, though perhaps there are also caches of “New Old Stock” rings that are still being parsed out little by little onto the market.

How do you tell the difference between a real, i.e. vintage ring and a fake? Good question. One prominent collector has written a small book on the subject, though the book, published in England in 2000 or 2001, has proven to be elusive. This collector’s Giant’s Ring collection purportedly numbers some 75 different examples, though we must wait to see his book republished in order to gain his knowledge, as he declined to elucidate any further.

Among the rings catalogued some controversy exists about the seemingly “non-Giant” Giant’s Rings, as well as “fantasy” pieces— i.e. rings which may never have actually been sold by any Giant, but retain the form and design. The “Gargantua Toto” ring is one such ring. Gargantua was the lowland gorilla that was sensationally featured with the Ringling Brothers & Barnum Bailey Circus from 1938-1949. M’Toto (or “Toto”) was a female gorilla later exhibited as Gargantua’s “bride.” Is it possible that a pair of gorillas actually pitched a Giant’s “Wedding” Ring? This “Gorilla Ring” unlike any of the others examined so far appears to have its letters engraved, rather than cast into the metal. While an owner of this rare ring, collector Chris Tinsley, originally believed the ring to be an outright forgery, further input from circus historians has revealed that these rings were sold from the Ringling Brothers Barnum and Bailey Circus Menagerie tent in the 1940’s.

Another unusual and mysterious Giant’s Ring is the “Circus Hall Of Fame” ring. One guess is that this ring was simply sold as a souvenir at the original “Circus Hall of Fame” in Sarasota, Florida (moved in 1981 to Peru, Indiana), and was never really pitched by a Giant. Or perhaps different Giants appeared at the museum and pitched the generic ring.

As proof of this most obscure object’s iconic staying power well into the 21st century, Bob Blackmar recently produced his own “recreation” Giant’s Ring for the 2006 fifth annual “Sideshow Gathering”. The handsomely designed pot metal ring was made in an edition of 100, and may still be available for sale as of this writing.

So How Big Is A Giant’s Finger?

According to The Guinness Book Of World Records, Robert Wadlow— the tallest human to ever live— wore a size 25 ring. By taking a modern ring-measuring chart (US Version), most of which stop at size 15, and expanding it 3mm for each ring size up to Wadlow’s size 25, one gets to a circumference of 4.25″ (or 107.95mm). This is exactly 1.353″ in diameter— a little larger than the typical Giant’s Ring of 1.25″, and smaller than the largest ring—one sold by Johann Petursson— at 1.5″ in diameter. If Wadlow was typical of most Giants in that his ring size was relative to his stature, then Giant’s Ring’s are actually only slightly exaggerated in size. This relative accuracy of ring size to the actual pitch items may be even closer if Wadlow’s fingers were perhaps thinner than the “average” Giant due to his very slim physique.

It is also possible this can be tested to some extent if a Ripley’s “Believe It Or Not” exhibit in St. Augustine, Florida can be believed to represent a true cast of Wadlow’s hand. While Wadlow exhibited briefly with Ringling Brothers Circus, he never sold a Giant’s Ring— considering any association with freaks and sideshows to be demeaning.

Since ring sizes of these pitch objects from Giants smaller than Wadlow tend to be almost uniformly the same, it is ridiculous to suppose that they were created with any idea of accuracy in mind. But given the inherent deceptions perpetuated by sideshows, Giant’s Rings are surprisingly relative to the reality of that size 25 ring that Wadlow wore.

Giant historian Dr. W.W. de Herder from the Netherlands has listed in his excellent book “Acromegaly and Gigantism on the 20th Century” the ring sizes of ten different giants, measured from the Giant’s Rings themselves. Dr. de Herder, measuring certainly with a greater accuracy than this author, finds a variation from the smallest George Auger ring to the largest Johann Petursson ring some 8.5 European ring sizes difference—from 30 to 38.5, much larger than the reported ring size of Wadlow.

The scale of Giant’s Rings is also related to the way in which they were pitched from the bally stage. Evidently, a common pitch gesture, as documented above with Al Tomaini, was for the inside talker or Giant performer to pull a half-dollar from his pocket and say that the size of the opening of the ring— and thus the Giant’s finger— were large enough to pass a half-dollar through it. Later, Johann Petursson seems to have upped the ante, or ceding to inflation, with a ring almost the size of a silver dollar.

A Drink From Blackbeard’s Mug?

If you go poking around the web, you’ll find one confused person ascribing “late 17th to 18th century” origins to a George Auger ring, claiming that the ring’s side-panel scrolls have “symbols [that] match those on Blackbeard’s mug.” Although a photo of the rum-stained mug supposedly made from Blackbeard’s skull has not yet surfaced, it seems doubtful that an early 20th century carny would have used anything as obscure as a mythic rum mug to copy in making the Auger ring side panel designs.

More than likely the side-panel scroll designs on Giant’s Rings were copied from slum jewelry and ended up there purely by chance, or whim, of the first ring maker. Slum jewelry was bought very cheaply by carnival game operators to give as prizes, and thus were everywhere to be seen and used in the show world as design inspiration. Nonetheless, the design notion was copied, and the tradition of making rings with side scroll patterns is nearly universal on Giant’s Rings. Designs on side-panels are often abstract filigrees, but just as commonly identifiable as oak leaves, stars, roses, small vines with fruit, and daisies.

While different Giant’s Rings appear to have somewhat similar side-panel designs, none of them so far examined appear to be exactly duplicated from other rings. Lastly, despite close similarities, and the claims of some who see variation everywhere, there do not appear to be different versions of side panel designs on rings with the exact same face design, making the collecting of these rings in all their variations much simpler.

Secret Origins Of Giant’s Rings

Beginning in the 1880’s, in France and then in other cities across Europe, tourist attractions and souvenir shops began selling metal napkin rings that were shaped exactly like very large finger rings. Some were elaborate, but many were as simple as the Giant’s Rings later sold at carnivals, circuses, and sideshows in the United States. Many of these European souvenir napkin rings were made to stock, and simply engraved with the place name or tourist destination where they were to be sold.

The earliest Giants who sold pitch rings were European, and certainly they would have been familiar with the common souvenir napkin rings made to look like finger rings. Perhaps this familiarity hatched an idea to produce the first “Giant’s Ring.”

Seemingly first made and pitched as early as 1905, perhaps first by Giant George Auger (1883?-1922), whose Giant’s Rings appear to be of the oldest and most primitive design— the format he used was copied, and rarely changed much from performer to performer.

Sideshow historian Tom Hernandez, who created an excellent web page on Giant’s Rings (now sadly a dead link), also believes that Auger had the distinction of pitching the first ring, and has his own theory on how the idea of Giant’s Rings came to pass:

“Apparently around this time huge oversized rings were being manufactured by some unknown company as a novelty item. They were purchased with a blank face and then one could get them inscribed with a name or personal message and then given as a gift or token of remembrance.”

Hernandez’ suggestion points more towards a U.S. origin for the producer of the first Giant’s Rings. In a 1937 catalogue we find the Johnson Smith Company selling a ring with “Comical Mottos” similar to the type of ring Hernandez describes. Certainly finding a catalogue or advertisement dated around 1900 that featured oversized rings would cement this contention, and logically tie the origin of Giant’s Rings to the production of carnival slum prizes and novelty items.

Interestingly, two personal rings worn by two different performing Giants—purportedly Johann Petursson and Martin Van Buren Bates– have also been examined, and both found to be larger than the pitched Giant’s Rings.

How Many Rings Do You Have, Johann?

Icelandic Giant Johann Petursson’s rings are many in number and variety. Many designs created over a period of many years— from metal to plastic, from shiny gold painted metal to dull pot metal. Johann pitched both the largest ring ever measured, as well as the cheapest (read, crummiest) ones ever made— plastic with a poorly printed-paper label glued on. Petursson also may have been the last Giant to ever pitch a ring.

Longtime sideshow collector and Johann Petursson enthusiast Neil Davis tells us that the Icelandic Giant’s molded square plastic rings with raised letters were first sold in the early 1950`s. Evidently unsatisfied, or perhaps simply trying to reduce costs, Johann next pitched plastic rings with his photo glued on. In the late 1950`s Johann switched back, trying out several large metal rings, which were heavy and ultimately unsatisfactory due to the quality of the metal. Next came what Neil calls “the elusive Star ring,” which is an engraved metal ring, with a five-point star in the middle. It is considered the scarcest of all Giant’s Rings, according to Neil. Only half a dozen or so are known to exist.

Finally, in the early 1960`s Petursson made the huge square metal “JP” rings, which come both painted gold, and unpainted, i.e. lead colored. These the Giant sold until the end of his career. The sheer quantity of this variety of ring left over when Peterson died has made these rings the most seen, and the cheapest to buy on the collector market. Neil also tells us that Petursson made his own rings with some help, and then sent them out to be painted. As mentioned above, Petursson’s original ring molds do survive in one enthusiast’s collection.

According to carnival historian Al Stencell, when wintering in Florida in the off-season, Petursson set up at flea markets between Gibsonton and Tampa to sell his rings and postcards.

Judging by the variety and quantity of rings produced, pitching rings was a lucrative business for Petursson, possibly as a result of his personal charisma that made selling the rings a natural for the Icelandic Giant.

So Many Giants, So Few Rings

In the history of the sideshow many (or most) Giants never had a ring to pitch. If selling these popular pitch items was lucrative enough to attract some, why not others? The question may be answered by examining the entrepreneurial orientation of the Giants (and/or their managers). Perhaps it was a simple equation: more ambitious performers sold the rings and the less ambitious did not.

With the exception of Gottlieb and Alfreda Fischer and their “Tallest Married Couple On Earth” ring, no woman Giant ever pitched a ring. Yet at least three different versions of a giant woman’s engagement ring complete with plastic “diamond” exist, as discovered by collector Reed Martin. Reed reports that these unusual metal rings were pitched as the “Tallest Married Couple’s Engagement Ring,” along with their other pot metal Giant’s Ring, but may have been pitched by other woman Giants as well.

The relatively scarce “Dreamland Coney Island” ring appears to have been a generic ring that was pitched by various Giants who appeared at The Dreamland Circus Sideshow. Presumably, whatever Giant was appearing in the sideshow pitched the “house” ring, though owing to its seeming scarcity it may not have been used over a long period of time. The one unique feature of the Dreamland ring is that the engraved words run perpendicular to the opening rather than parallel as on every other ring known.

The task of pitching the rings may have also been accomplished by an inside talker in addition to the Giant himself. Upon leaving the stage, the Giant’s manager or the lecturer may have continued pitching rings, as the art of the pitch was always a highly specialized skill as practiced by an expert talker. Conceivably, a great talker could sell more rings than the Giant himself. And perhaps a legendary talker might not even need a Giant on the show at all to successfully pitch a ring. Imagine that— a Giant’s Ring without a finger big enough to wear it. All possible in the world of the carnival pitchman.

Reed Martin, a collector since the mid-1960’s, claims there were three ways to get a Giant’s Ring on the circus in the 1920’s and 30’s. The first way, Reed says, was to catch one tossed out at the circus parade that proceeded each town’s opening of the big show under canvas. The Giant would ride in the back of an open car and toss the rings out to kids. Perhaps as a reward for risking a knot on the head from the flying ring, it could be traded for free gate admission to the circus, or kept as a souvenir. The second way to get a ring Reed tells us was to purchase one at the gate, and third way was to pay the Giant a nickel or dime and reach up and take their ring off the his finger in the sideshow.

Conclusion

As objects to collect the rings have a relative sameness to them that excites interest only in the very few today who can see in their cheap metal and plastic something more. That something more is a connection with an earlier and simpler time when the mystery and strangeness of the sideshow personally witnessed on a hot summer day inside that tent was for some a religious or transformative experience. And that in general is what “sold” the sideshow to the public, show after show, season after season—a desire to see something marvelous, to hold it in your gaze for a just moment, and be somehow transformed by it. And so the Giant’s Rings allowed the original purchaser of that object to hold forever that powerful wonder by purchasing an icon, a talisman, a souvenir from its church and pulpit of miracles and amazement. So it could be marveled at in private for years to come.

And that’s why these dull objects still excite the collector– they who see themselves as the heirs to a nearly lost religion of wonder. As the outsider talker’s pitch says:

“You will very soon forget the slim dime you spent here today, but you will remember for the rest of your days the incredible things you saw inside this tent.”

by Johnny Meah

As long ago as the early days of motion pictures, cars and the idiosyncratic behavior of both them and their drivers have been grist for the comedy mill.

Most everyone has had a couple of screwball car problems in their lifetime, the bulk of which don’t seem very funny when they occur. But when they happen to someone else in a comedy sketch our laughing apparatus kicks in. Since the invention of the automobile, movie makers, vaudevillians, and circus clowns have taken advantage of this fact.

The funny bone factor with all comedy cars breaks into three categories: capacity, mechanical dilemmas, and the car with a mind of its own. In some cases, all three are involved.

Since many reading this are too young to remember when Model A or Model T Fords were in vogue, I’ll suggest watching the opening of “The Beverly Hillbillies,” the long running TV comedy. The car that actor Buddy Ebsen (aka Jed Clampett) and family head to California in is the same type car used in the classic “Funny Ford” acts.

The theatrical side of these acts revolved around the frustration of the driver with mechanical malfunctions. Most of the drivers were “Tramp Clowns” but there were a couple of “Rube” comics as well. The car would make a noisy popping, sputtering entrance and then conk out, leaving the driver to try repairing a seemingly endless series of problems– a squirting radiator, a flat tire, a couple of explosions and of course the car taking off on its own– courtesy of the hidden driver in the trunk.

The first of these acts that I recall seeing was that of Earl Roscoe Armstrong. His car not only incorporated all of the aforementioned nonsense but it was a bucking Ford, simply meaning that it was built to rear up on its back wheels and move forward in that position!

Bobo Barnett. Photo credit: ClownAlley.net

The next in this cavalcade of cantankerous clunkers was owned by Ernie and Frieda Wiswell. As an interesting sidebar, when the Wiswells retired, they sold they car to the man who’d been Cornell Wild’s stunt double in Cecil B. DeMilles’ film “The Greatest Show On Earth,” a marvelous aerialist named Fry Alexander, who performed with the old Tin Lizzie until his own retirement.

Maintaining these cars was a formidable task. Due to their vintage nature, parts aren’t readily available, so the owners have to either machine or cobble up replacement parts, or go to the couple of suppliers who deal in antique auto parts. Since these dealers mainly supply wealthy car enthusiasts, the parts cost a fortune. It stands to reason that when these car acts were sold, or in the case of Merle Cook, handed down to a family member, baskets of parts went with them. (Merle’s son, Jack Cook is still performing with his Dad’s car.)

Roy “Deboxcar” Young’s car is currently owned by Jeffery Plunket, and as far as I know, is still performing with it. Likewise, the car owned by Bud “Doc” Heinz resides with his family and was previously owned by Al Piltz who with his brother Red, performed with it on the rodeo circuit.

To the best of my recollection, the music used to play these acts on and play these acts off was either “California Here I Come,” or “In My Merry Oldsmobile”. Interesting since all the cars were Fords. There were a couple of acts that used Crosleys but since no one wrote songs like “I’m Cross About My Crosley,” the play on music still rested with the first two numbers.

Moving right along (pun intended), we come to the tiny car acts– i.e. where a surprisingly big person gets of of a surprisingly small car.

Most of the performers who presented these claustrophobic caravans were “front bender” contortionists, but not all of them. Hip Raymond and his wife were fairly short people but the act was still amazingly funny because Hip would proceed to remove a cleverly spring-loaded roomful of furniture from the car, followed by his wife and dog!

Probably most notable of these acts in recent time is Lou Jacobs who graced the center ring of the Ringling show for decades. He used the erupting radiator gag also seen in the Ford acts but added a wrinkle also done by the Fratelini’s in Europe. Failing to stop the squirting water with his hat, he’d sit on the radiator and the water would continue to squirt out of the top of his head!

Kinko Sunberry. Photo credit: Clownalley.net

Leonard Trask “The Wonderful Invalid”

In the strange history of those who made a living from an acquired mutilation, perhaps none is stranger or more ill-starred than Leonard Trask. Born in Hartford, Maine on June 30, 1805, Trask acquired his contortion of neck and spine in 1833, when a “luckless hog” took fright, and ran beneath his horse’s hooves. Flying over his horse’s neck onto his own neck, Trask eventually crawled back to his home on a journey that took several days. Amazingly, Trask didn’t snap his spinal column, though there is some evidence that landing on his head was not a lesson for future caution.

Though bedridden for months after the accident, and as disastrous as it was for his health, for years after, often in excruciating pain, Trask continued to do torturous labor— logging trees in the Maine timber swamps, even in winter without adequate shelter. This abuse caught up to him a year or so later when “the neck and spine …began to curve, and he began to bow forward.”

In the 50 page pamphlet published in 1858 Trask names twenty-two doctors who tried nearly every harrowing 19th-century cure imaginable. Everything from cupping to bleeding, from lobelia emetics to blistering the neck with heat, from deep incisions cut on both sides of the spine to lying in a bed of boiled potatoes, from inserting a strip of linen (a seton) beneath the skin with needles, to lying in a tub of cold water and having heated stones tossed in– none of this halted what Trask calls the “drawing of the spine into a circular form.”

In between treatments, though urged to seek charity, he continued to work, until in 1840 he fell from a load of hay. Now crippled further, he consulted more doctors as far away as Boston, but soon his case was judged “hopeless.” As grievously described by Trask himself, “his neck and back have continued to curve more and more, every year drawing his head downward upon his breast till there appears but little room to press it farther without stopping entirely the movement of the jaws.”

Able to perform little labor but hoeing, Trask took to peddling house to house, though he admits that he often scared young children, women and animals, who were “defeated by his uncouth figure and deformity.”

Then in 1853, again, companion misfortune: as “being in continual danger of accidents on account of his inability to discover objects any distance before him,” Trask was thrown from his wagon, breaking four ribs, and his collar bone. When healed he took to walking, though this was also not without danger, as he was “unable to see but a few feet before him without bending backwards.”

Throughout it all, this self-described “child of sorrow” staved off “pauperism,” raised 7 children while “sustaining a feeble wife” who nursed him “till her health, too, was gone.”

Though he came to it late, after much travail, Trask ultimately falls into that category of human anomaly neither born into it, nor found seeking its bare sustenance (see “made freaks”), but nonetheless he is marked by a final aim to make coin from his misfortunate deformity. That men would pay to see and read of others injured so unusually by fate has been borne out by a history of those exhibiting themselves after some tragedy miraculously survived. Those that sold their likenesses and histories to support their woefully acquired conditions include the “Broken Neck Wonders” like Barney Baldwin, those left limbless by accident, and many wracked by disease that left their faces and bodies askew.

That disability can “earn” is today considered by some, who misunderstand the history of shows, as always a form of simple exploitation. But this simplification is disproven by Trask— who for so long through super-human endurance avoided the inevitable path to poorhouse, prison, or asylum— who was to succumb finally instead to “the road,” i.e. showbiz, exhibition, the sale of pitch books and photographs, i.e. so-called “exploitation” of his bodily wares that allowed him to survive.

The objects produced for Trask to sell which are shown above have survived these 150-plus years because Trask fascinated and continues to fascinate, because he offered and sold something of value— his deformity and morbid suffering. Humans in their most exalted moral role as protector of the weak cannot dispel this human interest in living human anomalies, and usually those on “the high chair” have no interest in the weak except to protect them from others, who supposedly unlike their noble selves may seek to exploit their deformities for monetary gain. Trask did not choose to live his tale of woe, but he did finally choose to exhibit it to earn his living.

For the entrepreneurial freak/handicapped/crippled/human oddity/mental deficient a way to survive was to exploit oneself, or even to be exploited by showmen. Trask was able to choose, and chose to exploit himself:

On account of his strange and peculiar form, many show-men have attempted to hire him in order to take him before the public for exhibition.

His decision not to exhibit himself for showmen, but to exploit his own deformity himself, was made without effort, as this monolithic sentence from his pitchbook makes clear:

His reply has ever been, that his misfortunes and afflictions, his pains and sufferings, were his own; his singular figure and deformity was his own,– and as it has pleased God so to afflict him, that he had become a living, human curiosity, and a wonder to his fellow men, he would sell or hire himself to no man, to become a source of speculation in their hands– that though in his physical appearance he scarcely bore the resemblance of humanity, yet through the benignity of a kind of Providence, the ‘man within’ had been left unimpaired; and if his singular form presented to the mind of his fellow-men, a subject of curiosity, wonder, interest or instruction, the sight should become a source of profit to no one but himself.

In a modern diagnosis, Trask has been described by British rheumatologist, Malcolm I.V. Jayson, to have written the first American description of “Ankylosing spondylitis.” This condition is the same as J.R. Bass “Ossified Man” was said to have had. The malady is best explained as a type of inflammatory arthritis which causes excess bone to form in the joints, and it often immobilizes those afflicted.

Though we may understand the medicine and disease behind Trask’s case, his story and visage nonetheless continue to fascinate us with its harrowing human tale of extreme misfortune, deformity and neglect.

(See pamphlet, “THE LIFE AND SUFFERINGS OF LEONARD TRASK, The Wonderful Invalid.” [PORTLAND, MAINE: Printed by David Tucker, 1858].) (See Carte D’Viste of Leonard Trask, circa 1863. by FASSETT and BASSETT, Lewiston, ME.)

If the Hunger Artist is remembered at all in the United States it is perhaps only because of that great Czech writer, Franz Kafka. In his short story, A Hunger Artist (Ein Hungerkünstler), published in 1924, Kafka’s performer finds himself performing at the circus in the twilight of his career. He discovers that the public is no longer interested in the art of starving oneself for the entertainment of the masses.

While the Belgian author, Ruben De Somer, writes in his article below that the first hunger Artist of the 19th Century was American, it appears that many of its most famous performers and largest audiences were European.

by Ruben De Somer

Long before late-19th and early-20th century “Hunger Artists” like Tanner, Papus and Succi roamed the carnivals, fairs and Variety theatres, a slew of predecessors paved the way.

Most European countries had their own fasting wonder. Their main show activity was lying in a bed, slowly dying of hunger while the masses crowded around them. Most of these people claimed to have been fed by God.

In the U.K. Martha Taylor (17th century), Ann Moore (19th century) and the Welsh “Fasting Girl,” Sarah Jacob (19th century) earned their living, living on air. In Austria the 50 year old carpenter Wolffgang Gschaidter lay starving for more than 15 years (17th century) and in Switzerland Apollonia Schreiert fasted her life away (17th century) [1]. Bernard Cavanaugh reputedly fasted for more than 5 years until he was convicted for being a hoaxer and vagrant. Even in prison he didn’t eat: “the surgeon of the prison has signed a declaration that Cavanaugh has never touched, since the 29th of November, in 9 days time, food or drink, despite this he stays healthy in body and mind.” [2].

Francisco Cetti (late 19th-early 20th century) was a Norwegian [3], who exhibited himself in Berlin in 1887 but during this fasting session he quit after only 11 days. [4]. A fellow Scandinavian was Mrs Christensen from Denmark who had to leave the London Royal Aquarium after 17 days instead of the 30 days she had planned [5].

The most well known fasting wonder and the main inspiration for the late 19th century revival was Dr. Henri Tanner, an American. [6] Another American was the wealthy Brooklyn resident Austin Shaw who did it because he wanted to– he had read it in a book. [7]

The German fasting wonders also had a long history of survival on divinity. The oldest known case was the wonder girl Margarethe Weiss of whom a pamphlet exists from 1542. The “Daughter from Cologne” exhibited herself in a tavern in 1595. Another famous fasting wonder was Eva Vliegen (17th century). More recently there was Therese Neumann (20th century) with the final chapter in Germany told by “Heros,” real name Willy Schmitz, who performed until the 1950’s. His most famous feat was a performance in the Zoo of Frankfurt, where he stayed in a glass cage for 56 days. [8]

Belgium has had very few examples, though the most famous one was Louise Lateau who fasted for 12 years and then died in 1883 [9]. Earlier an 18th century woman was carried around on a carriage, forced to pray for mercy in front of the churches in Antwerp, Belgium [10]. In 1886 a man from Brussels, Mr Simon also wanted to go for a world record of fasting but quit after a mere 12 days [11].

In France there was Papus (19th-20th century) [12], Alexander Jacques (early 19th-late 20th century), and Jeanne Balam (17th century).

Italy had three 19th century fasting wonders— Merlatti [14], Succi, and Ricardo Sacco [15].

In Holland there were the performers Maria van Dijck (18th century), Barbara Kremers (17th century) [16], and Engeltje van der Vlies (19th century). But of all the Dutch fasters, Engeltje van der Vlies was perhaps the most famous. Below we will look at her through the eyes of the contemporary press, and see her compared with many of her fellow hunger artists.

Engeltje van der Vlies

“Engeltje van der Vlies was born in Schiedam [Holland] on the 20th of August 1787 and is living in Pynacker near Delft, whose life has been dragging on without beverage and food since 1820, is currently very indisposed, several times the doctor has been forced to bleed her. Currently people think, more than ever, that her life thread will be severed, which when this has happened, will lead to weighty discoveries for scientific practices.” (Gazette van Gent, Belgium April 11, 1847)

And another author, writing from Amsterdam several years later:

“For a long time people haven’t heard anything of Engeltje van der Vlies, from Pynacker near Delft, that most peculiar woman, who hasn’t eaten anything since 1818, and since March 1822 hasn’t drunk anything. Many think she has passed away. Meanwhile she has celebrated her 66th birthday and her continuous existence can be seen as a miracle. People will recall that in 1826, a report was made by a medical commission regarding her, the result of which was that Engeltje van der Vlies was watched for 4 weeks by 4 trustworthy persons around the clock, and they declared under oath that she hadn’t eaten anything, food nor beverages.

“Since the aforementioned research about 27 years have passed, and more than 35 years in which she hasn’t eaten and more than 31 years that she didn’t drink anything: but still the art hasn’t succeeded in explaining why she was able to maintain her life force in such a marvellous condition. With the lacking of one of the greatest pleasures of life, sick and poor, she’s most of the time cheerful and happy, and rests good-natured and resigned in her fate, the so-powerful support; her Christian religion gives to her true follower so spacious.” (Gazette van Gent, Belgium, September 09, 1853)

And then appearing one week later in the same publication:

“Many persons have doubted the report that we’ve given a couple of days ago regards the girl, Engeltje van der Vlies, living in Pijnakker near Delft, in Holland, who hasn’t eaten for more than 32 years. We can insure our readers that the whole history is very true. A person who has even talked with this miraculous girl, gives us the following information:”

‘She lived with the reverend of Pijnakker (an hour and a half from Rotterdam and the Hague) as a servant girl. Her brother, a deserter of the militia was caught by the gendarmes. As a result this shocked her so much that she stopped eating. At first they didn’t pay attention to it, they thought it was a natural result of her fear. However when it took several days in succession, they noticed it much more. Doctors were consulted all over the country without avail. None of them could explain where the remarkable condition of the girl came from; none of them could explain the change which had taken place in her organization.’

“For a couple of more years she could still drink.” (Gazette van Gent September 16, 1853)

Another writes from Delft of van der Vlies:

“The famous Engeltje van der Vlies, who several newspapers recently discussed, as she allegedly had lived without food or liquid, has died yesterday in Pijnakker. As a result a medical examination took place, in company of several specialists, and so one says in supervision of the provincial commission of medical health research, the opening of the body has taken place of which the result is: at a certain height of the gullet (being the Cartilago Cricodea) a fleecy stricture was present, which wasn’t that hard, or lessening the workings of the gullet, that she couldn’t pass any solid food, she could certainly pass liquid food very easily in huge amounts. In the intestines newly freshly formed faeces was present and this was a clear proof that she had eaten recently, there were even food remains in the upper part of the intestinal tube(the microscopic and chemical research has to determine which food), and finally there were no deviations which could support the probability that no food had been used, or that the feeding had taken place in a supernatural way.” (Gazette van Gent December 12, 1853)

Fraud, Religion, and Medicine: Motives of the “Fasting Wonders”

Why did they do it? Some of them probably really did it out of faith, but in most cases profit was the reason behind it all. If you wanted to visit such a miracle, whether it was in a tavern, a fair or at their house, you had to pay. “The Fasting Wonder of Tutbury,” Ann Moore, for instance, managed to collect 400 pounds in the beginning of the 19th century. For a woman who used to be sustained by alms this is a huge sum.[17]

The Belgian, Mr. Simon claimed he did it for humanitarian reasons. Simon explained that his fasting was as an example for miners who might be trapped in a mine cave-in— showing them that they could stay alive a lot longer without food. The fact that he would earn a nice salary of 5 Franc performing also helped things along.[18] At one point in time Succi started a 40 day fast, saying his cash-flow was low, and he needed to acquire money and lots of it.[19]

Not all miracle fasters had a religious background. Some did their deeds for reasons of health, and others did it because it was their job. The American Henri Tanner wanted to prove that one could keep on living without food for a long time and performed in Clarendon Hall in New York. For 14 days he lived without food. [20] In a way he was a trendsetter because many followed his lead. His most famous contender was the Italian Succi.

The religious aspect of fasting was for a long time en vogue. Engeltje had been granted her powers for survival by divine intervention. She wasn’t the only one. The same was claimed by Martha Taylor, Eva Vliegen, Louise Lateau, Therese Neumann, and Wolffgang Gschaidter. [22]

In some cases the viewer was given a show, but most of the time the fasting wonder just lay there dying. However, most of the time the faster told his or her story to the visiting public. The Austrian Wolffgang Gschaidter was even promoted as the symbol of the city Innsbruck and the public was invited to come and see him at the local church and give an alm. (‘Makes me wonder about the weight of the people from Innsbruck’).

Another important element was that many invited doctors to prove the public that their “wonderous condition” was real. This the fasting wonders shared with many other types of “exhibited people”.

Engeltje, Henri Tanner, Succi, Martha Taylor, Sarah Jacobs, Francisco Cetti all were examined by the medical profession. Mr. Simon had both a dentist and a medical Doctor at his side during his performance, as well as 45 other people who had to watch that he didn’t do anything fraudulent. The only strange thing is that Cetti gained weight during his performance and was exposed as a fraud which brings us to following paragraph.

Just like many other exhibited people, fraud was a common feature of the performance. Engeltje, about whom we’ve just read, got her food through a small hatch which was hidden behind her bed, and through which her accomplice kept her nourished. Barbara Kremer was exposed by the Dutch doctor Johannes Wier (1515—1588). The Antwerp woman had to visit several churches and pray for forgiveness. The famous French magician and occultist Papus was also unmasked during one of his performances in Germany. [23] Succi as well as Tanner were also accused of fraud during their long careers. [24] Sarah Jacobs died before they found out the truth.

Many exhibited freaks and human oddities were the result of “Maternal Impression” according to literature and advertising which accompanied their exhibition. In the case of Engeltje it was her mother’s fear resulting from the capture of her brother. [25] It is not known whether other fasting wonders used the “Maternal Impression” explanation to highlight the reasons behind their condition. However such a miraculous shock did add to the attraction of these performers and could help explain to the audience in a “scientific” manner why the act chose to take this path.

The fasting wonders also sold pamphlets just like many other exhibited people. Martha Taylor, for example, had Thomas Robbins, a balladeer, write and publish a pamphlet about her claiming that she had fasted for more than 40 weeks through divine intervention. [26]

Did they really eat or drink nothing? In most of the cases they did drink. Succi for instance used a special potion which probably contained some kind of narcotic.26. If you look at the postcard on top of this page you will see that he promoted some kind of “sauerstoffwasser” or oxygen rich water called Ozonin. Other were real frauds, and others only drank water to avoid drying out. Especially those who exhibited themselves for medical purposes.

Conclusion

Looking back at our miraculous brethren and sisters, we can say that most of them were people who were in need of attention, whether it was for financial reasons, religious or medical.

This need for attention is an important incentive, as we turn on the television and discover that the fasting wonder still exists. Gandhi as well as many other used it as a way to attract attention, and to gain their political goals. Yesterday (April 6, 2005) when I turned on the my televison I heard the story of 30 Kurds who had barricaded them in a church and were fasting. How little has changed?

REFERENCES:

1. Allegaert,P., Cailliau (red), Vastenheiligen, wondermeisjes, en hongerkunstenaars, Een geschiedenis van magerzucht.

2. (Gazette van Gent 12/10/1841

3. http://tdplata.tripod.com/historia/, Cetti was in a later stage in his career also an aeronaut, being a airballoonist at one time in Buenos Aires

4. Gazette van Gent, 03/26/1887

5. Gazette van Gent, 10/14/1888

6. Gould, G,.M., W.L., Pyle, Anomalies and curiosities of medicine, New York, Julian Press,1956.

7. Gazette van Gent, 07/3/1905

8. Allegaert,P., Cailliau (red), Vastenheiligen, wondermeisjes, en hongerkunstenaars, Een geschiedenis van magerzucht. museum dr guislain, Gent, 10/24/1991 – 01/19/1992.

9. Didry, M., Wallemacq A., Levenschets van Louise Lateau, de wondendraagster van Bois d’Haine. Leuven, Nova et Vetera, 1921

10. Allegaert,P., Cailliau (red), Vastenheiligen, wondermeisjes, en hongerkunstenaars, Een geschiedenis van magerzucht.

11. Gazette van Gent, 12/1-2/1886 and 12/13-14/1886

12. Gazette van Gent, 11/22/1896

13. Gould, G,.M., W.L., Pyle, Anomalies and curiosities of medicine, New York, Julian Press,1956.

14. Gould, G,.M., W.L., Pyle, Anomalies and curiosities of medicine, New York, Julian Press,1956.

15. Gazette van Gent, 03/06/1906

16. Allegaert,P., Cailliau (red), Vastenheiligen, wondermeisjes, en hongerkunstenaars, Een geschiedenis van magerzucht.

17. Allegaert,P., Cailliau (red), Vastenheiligen, wondermeisjes, en hongerkunstenaars, Een geschiedenis van magerzucht.

18. Gazette van Gent, 12/1/1886

19. Gazette van Gent, 03/18/1886

20. http://www.br-online.de/wissen-bildung/kalenderblatt/juni/kb20000628.html

21. London Illustrated News, 1880, p. 133-134. or L’Illustration Européenne 09/4/1880

22. Allegaert,P., Cailliau (red), Vastenheiligen, wondermeisjes, en hongerkunstenaars, Een geschiedenis van magerzucht.

23. Gazette van Gent, 05/13/1904

24. Gould, G,.M., W.L., Pyle, Anomalies and curiosities of medicine, New York, Julian Press,1956.

25. Gazette van Gent September 16, 1853

26. Allegaert,P., Cailliau (red), Vastenheiligen, wondermeisjes, en hongerkunstenaars, Een geschiedenis van magerzucht.

27. A mocking report of this potion, which could be bought by everyone, was published in “L’Illustration” from 4/06/92, p. 486.

Cataloguing photographer Charles Eisenmann’s various and sundry cardboard mounts– both fronts and backs of Cabinet Cards and Carte De Visites– has been a pet (sideshow nerd) project of mine for many years. Knowing the mounts and their dates of usage may eventually prove useful to other collectors and historians in dating images.

Because the present collection does not offer a wide enough variety of examples used throughout Eisenmann 30-plus year career, I am soliciting help from other owners/collectors of Eisenmann Carte De Visites and Cabinet Cards. If you have dated Eisenmann photos, or if you have a mount which is different than the ones listed below, please email us using the contact form.

Also, certain mounts may have been reprinted and used over a wide variety of dates. Likewise, some mounts may have been used for a while, abandoned, and then again used for a time again. Finally, Eisenmann probably used mounts interchangeably from a large reserve of different styles.

Below is a selection with approximate dates, and exact dates if recorded on the actual photo.

I’ve also ranked reliability of these dates between 1 and 10, which is a subjective criteria once you reach below a ranking of ‘8’.

Rankings and their explanations:

10: If the signature of a performer is present along with an written date on the same hand, then I rank that date reliability a ’10’. Another ranking of ’10’ would be if the date is actually printed on the card, which did not happen very often. The only other instance of a ’10’ I’d allow is if a certain performer or group of performers only appeared for one year, but the card is not marked with a date. This must be confirmed by a route card, a blurb or advertisement in The New York Clipper, a mainstream contemporary newspaper, or a “reliable” book which cites a primary source. Most sideshow books throw out dates and don’t cite sources, and these are dealt with below.

9: A ‘9’ would be if a seemingly contemporary hand recorded the date, i.e. “I saw this fat lady at the dime museum June 11, 1886.”

8: An ‘8’ is a card which is dated on the back or front, but it is not clear who wrote the date, but the writing appears to be contemporary with the card. Another ‘8’ rank can be had by a secondary source, i.e. a book or other published source which quotes a date found on an example of the same photo and mount.

7: A ‘7’ is dated by another exact mount or back mark which is dated on another photo of a different performer with either a ‘9’ or ’10’ ranking.

6: A ‘6’ is dated by another very similar mount or back mark which is dated on another photo of a different performer at either ‘9’ or ’10’.

(To be continued, work in progress……..)

Banner painters, they sell the show.

Winnie was advertised as the “largest human on earth, or ever was on earth.” Born a slave in 1839, Winnie was raised in Henry County, Kentucky and up until the year 1885 had never traveled more than about 8 miles from home. When Winnie, still a slave, was married and became “Winnie Johnson” she weighed a very normal 125 pounds. But by the time she was 28 years old she was up to 336 pounds and by 35, she reached 401 pounds. At the age of 36 she was 511 pounds and by 42, she weighed 635 pounds. By this time Winnie’s size left her little choice but to sit and sleep on the floor.

In mid January of 1884, when Winnie was 44 years old, she was left sitting in her house while her sons went out hunting. Their trip took longer than expected and by the time they returned, their mother’s thighs had froze to the floor. A doctor Jones, of Bethleham, in Henry County, had to surgically remove 7 pounds of Winnie’s damaged flesh. That incident didn’t slow her down a bit, and by the age of 46 Winnie hit 707 pounds On January 1, 1887 she weighed a massive 733 pounds. At that time she was 5 feet 8 1⁄2 inches tall and measured 8 feet 10 inches around. Her arm was 30 1⁄2 inches around with her thigh being 53 inches and her calf measuring 30 inches around.

Winnie was considered an extraordinary exhibit and was able to command a salary 5 to 10 times the amount of a regular run of the mill fat lady. Museum operators were paying as much as $300 per week for her services. She was so popular there would be a steady flow of customers for weeks.

Winnie’s career came to an end on September 4, 1888. At the time of her death at age 49 she weighed an incredible 850 pounds. She most likely was the largest human on earth, for her time. Coincidently, at that same time, another Kentucky native by the name of John Hansen Craig, was rapidly closing in on Winnie’s record. He would eventually top out at 907 pounds, exceeding Winnie by over 50 pounds and taking claim to being “the heaviest man alive.” Certainly another proud moment in history for the state of Kentucky.

About a year before her death, Winnie was exhibiting for T. A. Johnson of Johnson’s Museum, in Baltimore. She was billed as “The Greatest Freak and Curiosity on Earth.” For a mere 10 cents, with children being encouraged to also attend at the discounted price of a nickel, everyone could take advantage of this rare opportunity to see “Big Winnie Johnson.”