My second advertising car was fitted up with another enormous organ of
far-reaching power, and attracted much attention, while my third and
last advertising brigade rejoiced in the possession of an engine to
which was attached a steam whistle of such power and discordant tone
that it could be heard for miles. This the men would blow while going
through the country. Professor Jukes had christened this diabolical
invention the "Devil's Whistle," and so well did its sound fit the name
that the people must have frequently thought His Satanic Majesty was
near by.
As that car with its whistle would steam into a town, the inhabitants
would flock as one man to see what it was that had so disturbed their
peace, and thus we were enabled to advertise more thoroughly than any
show before or since. I have often thought that I really deserved
punishment for thus outraging the public ear.
Between these three advertising brigades I had smaller companies,
accompanied by a colored brass band, which discoursed pleasant music
while my bill posters decorated the dead walls and boards. The band
also gave concerts at night upon the public square and, between pieces,
a good speaker would draw attention to the excellences of the coming
show.
A uniformed brigade of trumpeters was also sent through the country on
horseback, and a band of Jubilee singers marched through the streets
singing the praises of the "Newly United Shows." Added to these
attractions were two stereopticons that pictured, from some house-top
or window, the main features of the show. This, together with perhaps
the most liberal newspaper advertising that ever had been done, made
the whole advance work as near absolute perfection in show advertising
as possible.
One of the picturesque features with the advance show was Gilmore's
"Jubilee Anvil Chorus." The anvils were made of wood with a piece of
toned steel fastened at the top in a manner which secured a volume and
resonance of tone that could be heard much further than that of an
ordinary anvil. At intervals, to strengthen the chorus, cannon were
fired off. This, though a great novelty, caused some dissatisfaction,
especially amid crowded surroundings. My excuse was that the chorus was
a free feature furnished by my friend Gilmore, and that, as it cost the
public nothing, the latter should be satisfied. Never before nor since
was a country so startled and excited over the coming of a show.
"SPOTTERS"
A great circus uses large quantities of advertising paper--so much, in
fact, that it is difficult to keep track of it. True, the
superintendent of the advertising car gives each man so many "sheets"
in the morning and the man at night hands in a statement which is
supposed to show where and how he has placed the paper. These brigades
are followed by "watchers," or, as the railroad men term them,
"spotters," who look carefully over the ground. But the impossibility
of detecting all crooked work may be readily understood when I say that
from eight to twelve wagons containing bill-posters and paper start out
on country routes in as many different directions, so the "spotter,"
not being ubiquitous, cannot follow every trail. One of my "spotters,"
however, did once ascertain that a party of my men had driven into the
country and dozed comfortably in the shade all day, had not put up any
paper and had not fed the hired horses, although they did not forget to
charge for the "feeds." The horses were thus made to suffer and the men
pocketed the money which should have gone for oats. Of course my
superintendent discharged the entire brigade, although, when the season
is well under way, it is very difficult to obtain skilled bill-posters,
for it is quite a difficult craft and experts are in good demand.
The reader, however, can easily see what a great loss such doings
entail on a show, considering the cost of the paper at the printer's,
the freight or expressage, the cartage, and the money paid the men for
putting up the sheets. The printing bills of a first-class show are
enormous. My lithograph bill alone, the last successful season of my
show, amounted to $40,000, and this was before the days of extensive
lithographing. I believe I ordered the first three-sheet lithograph
ever made, and also the first ten-sheet lithograph. This was considered
a piece of foolishness; but when I ordered a hundred-sheet bill and
first used it in Brooklyn it was considered such a curiosity that show
people visited the City of Churches for the express purpose of looking
at this advertising marvel. How things have changed! The Barnum and one
or two other shows now use nothing but lithographs, and many of their
bills are beautiful works of art, some of them being copies of really
great pictures.
I can remember when one-sheet lithographs cost one dollar each, and for
several years later they could not be bought for less than fifty to
seventy-five cents apiece. They can be had now in large quantities for
about five cents or less the sheet. As shows nowadays frequently use
hundreds of sheets in a day, imagine what would be their cost at the
price paid in the pioneer show period.
The circus of the present day is judged by the quality of its paper.
One season I arranged with a publisher to use a folded quarter sheet,
three sides of which advertised our show and the fourth side contained
the first chapter of a story about to be published in his magazine.
These were furnished to us in enormous quantities and our agents
distributed them. In Boston we had four four-horse wagons full and
these followed our parade. The men tossed the folders high in the air
and the wind carried them in all directions. While this style of
advertising surprised the people, it was soon stopped, and properly,
too, by city ordinance. I think circus people would be better off if
ordinances were passed wholly prohibiting bill posting; but
unfortunately such a movement would go far toward breaking up a
profitable industry, since many of the bill posters are rich men, some
making as much as $25,000 a year and a few fully $50,000. I believe Mr.
Seth B. Howes, the veteran circus manager, was the first one to order a
billboard made or paste paper on the outside. Previous to this all
bills were hung or fastened up with tacks.