Showing posts with label giants. Show all posts
Showing posts with label giants. Show all posts

Sunday, June 8, 2008

Weighed Five Hundred Pounds

New York, 1895

David Robinson, a resident of East Moriches, is dead. Robinson weighed 500 pounds. For some years he was a whaler and sailed on several ships from Sag Harbor. He was a giant in strength. Though the whalers as a rule were pretty tough characters in those days, it is said Robinson was always more than a match for the roughest of them. It is said that he could lift a dead weight of 2,000 pounds with his neck and shoulders.

—The Long Island Farmer, Jamaica, NY, March 15, 1895, p. 1.

Friday, May 23, 2008

As To Giants

1895

For Some Reason the Big Fellows Are Not Long Lived.

As a rule, giants are not long lived. They have too many gantlets to run. Being giants — that being anything over 6 feet 6 — they naturally drift into the show business and are thenceforth incarcerated in vans, close rooms and in the dingy and effluvia laden air of the exhibition room. Their not overresisting lungs here inhale the combined effluvia and aroma that arise from the lungs, skin and not overclean or over well aired clothes of their many admirers, all of which is not conducive to either health or to long life.

It would seem reasonable to believe that a giant — be, he 7 or 10 feet tall — who is well formed, and who has every organ in a just proportion to his bulk, should live as long as a small man or as long as his heredity might otherwise permit. Reasoning theoretically, this would seem probable, but when we come to well analyze the subject and compare the actual facts we find that something or other always goes wrong, and that, owing to many an "if," we find that our giant dies early, as a rule. Some one organ goes wrong, and the great machine comes to a stop, or some organ does not keep pace with the rest of the increase in bulk, and he goes halting and squeaky, or either an overwork or an underwork here or there, and a physiological inadequacy of some sort is the result, with a general deterioration of the whole structure and with a finally premature death.

In other words, there is sure to be a failing link in the physiological scheme of these abnormal beings which, by giving way, breaks the continuity of the chain of life, and that independent of any of those moral delinquencies which are but too often the cause of an early breakdown. It is simply that the whole structure would not work abnormally in every detail. — National Popular Review.

Thursday, May 17, 2007

Freaks in Circuses — The Attraction of Monstrosities

1910

FREAKS IN CIRCUSES

People Are Strangely Fascinated by the Monstrosities

When the "Domesticated Gorilla" Got the Show Into Trouble — Hot Water Spoils a "Mermaid" to Uncover Fake

London — It seems strange that freaks, from the legless wonder to the two-headed calf, should possess such a strange fascination for nine people out of ten, yet this is undoubtedly the case.

Of course, there are many so-called freaks which have no business to be called by such an unpleasant name, for if one argues from the dictionary a freak is a monstrosity, and a monstrosity, in the generally accepted sense of the word, is something horrible. The giant and the dwarf are interesting and unusual, but certainly should not be called "freaks."

Hunchbacks were an exception to the rule, for all kinds of powers were attributed to them. There are some very sensitive people to whom the sight of anything in the nature of a monstrosity is absolute pain, and women are fortunately few and far between who fall in love with a monster because of his monstrosity, as in the case of Victor Hugo's "L'homme qui Rit."

The ordinary individual comes across very few physical freaks, and one cannot but wonder whence the showman's rank and file are recruited. Perhaps, if the truth were known, more than half of the show freaks are "fakes." There are many good stories told of these sham freaks, who, owing to some contretemps, have "given the show away." The two following are good examples:

Among the freaks of a certain show was a "domesticated gorilla," to quote the handbills, and he proved one of the finest draws the show had ever had. After the performance no one could have recognized the gorilla, as he then took the shape of a very quiet, ordinary little man. The public particularly enjoyed seeing the gorilla swing from the horizontal bar by his tail, an appendage which is very slightly developed in the species as a rule.

This tail was a masterpiece of ingenuity. It was made of flexible steel, and so contrived that when it took a turn around anything it locked into position until it was released by the gorilla touching a spring concealed somewhere near his waist. The thing worked splendidly for a long time, until one day the gorilla put his tail through the bars of his cage, and a lady standing by took hold of it. Well, the tail acted automatically, as usual, and of course when she felt it tighten around her wrist the lady screamed. The gorilla pressed the hidden spring to no purpose. To make a long story short, the men standing by came to the lady's rescue, took hold of the tail and pulled it off. When the people saw the leather fastenings and buckles they "cleaned out the establishment."

The second story concerns a mermaid. She was no ordinary mermaid, but a "really high-class article," a very handsome young woman encased from the waist down in blue and gold fishskin. The water in which she smoked, and sang, and sat on a rock combing her hair was kept tepid so as not to give her a chill, and this was what gave her enemies — the beautiful Circassian girl and the dwarf — a chance to injure her.

They were jealous because she attracted more attention than they did, so they hatched a plot, which the dwarf carried out successfully. One day he pretended to be ill, and got a day off, and just before the mermaid's performance he hid himself in the boiler-room. After the man had been down to see that there was not too big a fire, the dwarf set to and stoked for all he was worth.

The mermaid soon felt that something was wrong, but she stood it as long as she could. At last, however, she had to choose between being boiled or giving the thing away, and naturally she preferred the latter alternative; but, as the showman put it, the public said things that were "very discouraging" and the show had to move on.

Saturday, May 5, 2007

An Odd Genius: Mortimer

1874

An Odd Genius

An Irishman died, a few weeks ago, in London, whose career and attainments entitle him to a niche in the annals of literature. The deceased was about fifty years of age, and was as odd a figure as one could meet in a day's ride. He was small, but firmly knit, generally wore a white hat and a dress coat, and always had an old volume under his arm. He was a confirmed book-worm. Mezzofanti was hardly a more accomplished linguist. Mortimer was a graduate of the University of Dublin, and deeply versed in classic lore, but he added a polish to his erudition by his intimacy with at least a dozen modern tongues. He spoke French, German, Russian, Polish, Spanish, Italian, Modern Greek, Turkish, Arabic, Irish, and Danish with fluency. In his youth he had been cabin-boy in an American bark, and subsequently became a medical student in Paris, but had to leave it on account of his connection with the June insurrection of '48.

He was a very strong man, and utilized his strength by taking an engagement as a Hercules in a circus in Australia. By turns he gave lectures on Shakespeare through Germany, was a Greek professor at Hamburg, had a troupe of Spanish ballet-dancers in Holland, and was a companion of Sir William Don, the baronet actor, in his wildest continental frolics. In his time he had been tutor to Charles Lever's children at Florence. He came to the surface one day in the employment of Tom Thumb; another in the company of Murphy the Irish giant, who was a distant cousin. He had been in London since the Franco-Prussian war, which ruined him in fortune. His learning was of little profit to him, for he died very poor in a ward of a hospital, and is buried in a nameless grave.

Wednesday, April 4, 2007

Three German Giants Featured In Ringling Brothers Circus

Centralia, Washington, 1913
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GERMAN GIANTS WITH CIRCUS

Three Saxon Brothers are Engaged By the Ringling Brothers

Arthur Saxon, the strongest man in the world, and his two brothers, are this season presenting an act with Ringling Brothers' World's Greatest Shows which is creating a sensation. Two of these modern Samsons form a bridge over which passes an automobile with six passengers.

These brothers have astonished all Europe by their wonderful powers. Since their arrival in America, the Health magazine, Physical Culture, the Scrap-Book and many other monthly publications have devoted columns to them, and to their remarkable history of achievements. Scientists have come from many cities to examine them. All have pronounced them the foremost figures in the world's history as far as their strength and endurance is concerned. They are vegetarians and have never used intoxicants.

In his act Arthur Saxon lies on the stage floor and with his feet supports a platform upon which the 13 largest men that can be found in the audience sit. At the same time he supports with his hands a 200 pound dumb bell and three men. Any one of these three brothers could easily stand up as the champion strong man of the world if it were not for his brothers to be counted in the reckoning. Combined, they form a trio of strength that could not be equaled by twice their number of the giant men of the world.

Mijarez, the Mexican wire-wizard, is another of Ringling Brothers' big features. This remarkable performer dances on a high wire. He imitates a club man coming home on uncertain legs in the early hours of the morning after having dined too freely. His wabbling legs bring screams of laughter. The adroit and skillful manner in which he keeps on the wire while going through all the comical gyrations of an inebriate, brings storms of applause. When his crazy feet desert him and he falls, people expect to see him go tumbling to the ground. But not so. This is only part of Mojarez' clever performance. It took a solid year of practice to learn how to fall down and yet not leave the wire. The best achievements of other wire walkers are too trivial for this Spaniard to bother with. He begins where the best of the others stop. He is in a class by himself.

Every form of circus entertainment is found with this circus in its highest form of excellence. Aerialists, equilibrists, jugglers, riders, aerobats and tumblers, picked from the talent of the world, combine to make a galaxy of talent never before seen with one circus. In addition there are fifty clowns to keep the audience in good humor. The big circus will be seen in Centralia on Wednesday, August 30.

--Daily Chronicle-Examiner, Centralia, Washington, August 18, 1913, page 8.

Comment: The article definitely reads like promotional material from the circus given to the newspaper.