My last experience with Dan Rice when he was in the circus business was
at Elkhart, Ind. It was a very stormy day during the war. The weather
was too windy to permit the hoisting of the usual flags, and one
pompous young fellow, inflated with conceit, appointed himself a
committee and visited Dan, demanding that the flags be hoisted. He
charged that Dan had made secession speeches in the South. With an ugly
mob at his heels the fellow declared that if the flags were not hoisted
he would burn the whole outfit. Dan truthfully told the crowd that he
had already erected, at Girard, Pa., a monument to the Union soldiers;
that he owned more flags than the whole city of Elkhart, and that he
would show them if they desired; but he absolutely refused to hoist a
stitch of bunting upon such a demand. Threats and arguments were alike
powerless to move him from his stand. I thought him rather foolish, in
those exciting times, and there appeared to me great danger in his
action.
Dan, however, mastered the situation. He publicly announced that at the
night show he would give a full history of the leader of the mob, and
did so with a vengeance. He had learned by careful inquiries something
of the character of this fellow, who was a cashier in a bank, and at
the evening performance, and in the actual presence of the man and his
associates, Dan mounted a stool and gave his enemy such a verbal
castigation as few persons have ever received. As he progressed in his
speech he waxed eloquent, and in a marvelously deep, clear and
penetrating voice pictured the vices and foibles of this "patriotic"
cashier, until the audience was ready to mob the man. Suddenly a rush
was made to where he had been sitting. But he was gone and the eloquent
showman was a complete victor.
That night I roomed at the hotel where Rice was stopping, and in the
morning he accompanied me to the depot, to see me off for my home in
the West. While waiting there the cashier appeared and begged Dan to
retract his assertions of the night before, declaring that otherwise he
would be run out of town. Dan replied that if he did not immediately
leave him he would receive the worst thrashing of his life--and Dan
would have kept his word, to the letter, had not the fellow beat a
quick retreat. I saw Rice but once after that time, but always regarded
him as a prince of the circus ring.
At one time we started our show through Kentucky, where we did a
splendid business. On this journey through the South our horses were
all caught in a fire and so charred and burned that we had to shoot
many of them. In Mississippi we were greatly troubled and delayed by
the muddy roads. We were three days going a distance of only eighteen
miles. At one point, where there was only one house, our tent was
delayed on account of the deep mud, and we were forced to show without
it, putting up the seats in the form of a circle, thus making a ring in
which the performance was given. The people could see the performance
without paying, but nearly all of them had principle enough to pay. A
few ruffians, however, began abusing the showmen, and a genuine fight
ensued, which was a repetition of most of the others, and some of the
toughs were badly hurt. Our men had all gone to the farmhouse to bed,
and I was alone on the grounds to look after my property, when, after
midnight, a crowd began to gather and suddenly surrounded me, shoving
the muzzles of their pistols and guns in my face. This crowd hung about
until daylight, and I pleaded so heartily that they did not shoot. The
fact that I was then little more than a boy in years was, I think, the
only reason I was not instantly shot by the ruffians.
When our company began to gather in the morning these ruffians left,
but I shall never forget that night sitting there surrounded by a
half-drunken mob, in a drizzling fall of rain. I was completely
exhausted and half frozen, and never before nor since was I so glad to
see daylight come.
This trip led us through Georgia, Alabama, Florida and North Carolina.
In those States we frequently traveled at night, and sometimes all
night, illuminating our way by setting fire to the patches of gum on
the pine trees at the spots where they had been "blazed" for their sap.
In the mountains of North Carolina we encountered the "clay eaters." I
was assured that they subsisted to a great extent upon a certain kind
of clay which appears to be able to sustain life. The reader can
imagine the character and intelligence of these beings. There was also,
in a certain region, a strange people who held regular monthly fairs
where they met to barter. They were said to be descendants of a certain
Scottish clan, who, when they first came to this country, were fairly
well civilized, but instead of settling in the fertile soils and
lowlands, took up their homes in the mountains, because the latter
reminded them of their native country. Here they became more and more
isolated until, at length, they were governed solely by their own
outlandish laws and customs, knowing nothing of the usages of
civilization. Outside of the clay-eating districts these mountain
people grew to an enormous stature and possessed great strength. I
found them very hospitable, always treating their guests with marked
kindness.