Dick Bratby ” Dick Sandow” was an acrobat at the beginning of the war with the Zola Brothers. They quickly joined up. Dick sent this embroidered post card from France to Carrie Fossett c.1916. They married during the war. Dick was injured, and survived to return to the circus. © Tom Sandow their Son. (Thanks).
War time must be a heightened time of emotion: all the loves, losses, patriotism, hopes and fears. Here are a few poems and songs transposed from newspapers found in Tyne and Wear Archives, Fenwick Collection; The World’s Fair, the Showland newspaper held on microfiles at the National Fairground and Circus Archive, University of Sheffield. And from (Ref: O M) Jewish Identities in German Popular Entertainment 1890-1933. By Marline Otte. University of Chicago Press. 2009.
SHOWLAND’S SONS.
We’re proud of the lads from Showland;
You don’t know how one feels
To think of the loved ones who have gone to the Front;
From the dear old “world on wheels.”
And while the boys are absent,
Their kith and kin try hard
To keep the old flag flying
For the “tober” that’s never barred.
They’ve known how hard it’s been at times
To keep the wolf from the door,
And they’ll try their best, we know, to keep
The enemy from our shore.
The Circus Ring, the shooter, too,
Have helped to swell the ranks;
And we wish them luck and a safe return
To receive a nation’s thanks.
They’ve had their share of trenching
Through the Fairground’s sea of mud,
And always come up smiling
When business had been good.
So through the long dark winter nights,
When you around the coke fire sit,
Let’s try to help as suits our purse,
And give our little bit.
The Fairground has done handsomely,
Grist to the mill to bring,
And those who are left behind at home
Will loyally serve the king.
And Give once more a helping hand
In Charity’s fair game,
For Showland’ rough but honest heart
Can always “Play the Game.”
FRED BIBBY
Fenwick Collection – Tyne & Wear Archives
A LINE FROM THE PLAINS.
The Showmen’s boys are up and doing
All of them are out for blood:
And they fight for King and Country,
Shovelling up the Tidworth mud.
Poets say the paths of glory,
Lead but only to the grave,
They never said t’would be so muddy,
Naught but stilts our lives can save.
If we’re sick and bones all aching,
“Number nine pills” will make us well.
If you’re crummy, you shouldn’t worry,
Trust in God and scratch like (hell)
———
If from out this mud we’re rescued,
And they send us to the front,
We will fight for England’s glory,
Shrapnel will not make us shunt.
Now even should our aim be faulty,
But true enough t’will be I guess,
Thank God we have another weapon
We will kill them with “B.S.”
And when the cruel war is o’er,
For, of course, we’ll see things
through,
They’ll be proud of us in Showland,
George Lynch “The drinks on you.”
BY PTE. T. DARLOW.
Transport Section,
Lucknow Barracks,
Tidworth.
12/6/1915 The World Fair
A CIRCUS SONG.
BY “EFF TEE.”
(Tune: “Yankee Doodle.”)
Sir Harry Bailey’s on the road,
He’s on his way to Gorton,
So on he drew for a day or two,
On Collins’ fair at Broughton.
When Harry draws in any town,
He makes a gorgeous pa(y)gent,
He always makes his route himself,
He don’t need any agent
Harry sings this little song,
Harry sings it gaily
There ain’t an agent on the road
Like good old Harry Bailey.
When Harry draws into a town,
They move along so gaily,
The leader of the famous band,
Is know as Harry Bailey,
When Harry aint a horse astride,
Upon his feet he’ll stump it,
Sometimes he’ll beat the big brass drum,
Sometimes he blows a trumpet,
Harry Bailey sings this song,
Harry sings it gaily,
No one blows his trumpet like,
The modest Harry Bailey.
Harry’s tent is broad and long,
’Twill hold ten thousand people,
His centre pole a ten horse load,
’Tis tall as any steeple.
Harry’s staff work very hard,
There’s none that can work faster,
Their life one long sweet holiday,
With Harry as tentmaster.
Harry Bailey sings this song,
As the king pole goes up gaily,
Harry rules a thousand men,
Good luck to Harry Bailey.
Harry owns a piebald stud,
In number not quite fifty,
When Harry buys a team or two,
He’s neither mean nor thrifty,
When Harry moves along the road,
He’s neither sloth nor snail; he
Gets away at break of day,
An early bird is Bailey.
Harry Bailey sings this song,
At four each morning daily,
The first one out upon the show,
Is good old Harry Bailey.
When Harry’s show is on the road,
Two miles long it reaches,
With Harry marching on in front,
In his famous riding breeches,
Harry stops at every pub,
A foaming pint of ale, he
Pays for every man that’s on the show
A right good sort is Bailey.
Harry Bailey sings this song
As he tips his pint so gaily,
Here’s luck to all my merry men,
And likewise Harry Bailey,
George Proctor owns a famous show,
But not like Harry Bailey’s,
There breathes a whisper o’er the ground,
And this is what the tale is,
When George built up so spick and span,
His shutters painted yellow,
Harry started his parade,
And knocked him straight to ‘ellow.
Harry sings this little song,
Harry sings it gaily,
George has gone to get a pint,
And so has Harry Bailey.
We talk about our circuses,
Our Fossett’s and Ginnett’s,
Teddy Bostock’s, Sanger’s, too,
And some that one forgets.
Talk about our comrade Pat’s
All good to gaze upon
Bailey’s is the best of all,
So says Pat’s brother John
When Harry sings his little song
We’ll sing together gaily
The finest showman in the land,
Is wealthy Harry Bailey.
Harry’s start upon the road,
Makes his rivals jealous,
Cannot stand alongside him,
And so the showman tell us,
To Halstead they will wire away,
To buy their little circus,
Harry’s packed ‘em right away,
To their respective work’us.
When Harry sings his little song,
All sing the chorus gaily,
The only showman now on earth,
Is handsome Harry Bailey.
17/7/1915 The World’s Fair
Note: In Verse 7, lines 10 and 11, we have made a best guess as text difficult to decipher.
SOLDIER CLOWN’S VARIED EXPERIENCE.
Drummer Johnnie Quinn, has just got back to Blighty after over two years in the Army. He enlisted on August 8th, 1914, and was at the landing in the Dardanelles, and had eighteen months out there.
Previous to joining the Army, Drummer Quinn was principal clown for some of the leading circuses touring Ireland, including Lloyd’s, Hanneford’s, Buff Bill’s and Duffy’s, and has occupied that position over 20 years. He is in command of the Pipe Band and would be pleased to hear from old friends. His address is No. 694, Drummer J. Quinn, Royal Munster Fusiliers, Irish Command Depot, Tipperary. He sends us the following lines:—
As I read the good old paper
That’s read in every traveller’s home.
A verse is wanted for our Tommy,
Fighting far across the foam,
Though his people may be busy,
In the Hall or Christmas Fair.
Still their thoughts are with you,
Tommy,
Fighting in the trenches there.
How they miss you from the wagon
From the emma and the sheet,
From the switchback and the jumpers,
From the cine there complete.
From the roll-up and the kick-in,
From the shooter and the swings
From the stage and good old circus
From the traps and flying rings.
But they have gone to do their duty
Showmen, every inch, are they.
When we’ll meet them, how we’ll greet them,
With a cheer “hip-hip-hooray”
…(?)…
6/1/1917 The World’s Fair
Poem by Gustav Hochsetter.
THE WAR TO END ALL LAUGHTER.
Variety and World War
Some say: the world war
Is in fact a money war
Where richer people
In the end
Will hold victory in their hands.
This theory must be rejected.
The world war is a war of nerves.
Victory will fall to those who have the better nerves.
And what strengthens our nerves?
Serenity,
Distinction, and
Everything that gives us pleasure.
The variety theatre,
Without a doubt,
is nerve-strengthening.
Therefore we welcome it
To see the German country
hale and hearty
At home
and at the front
the variety theatre helps victory!
Published first in October 1918, in Das Organ Dee Varietweld, and Bibliog. Ref: O M
