6. Ricketts' Circus in the Capital City, Part Four

(© Podcast text copyright - Peter Schmitz. All rights reserved.)

Welcome and welcome and welcome again to Adventures in Theater History. This is Part Four of the story about Rickett’s Circus in the Capital City. If you haven’t listened to the first three installments yet, you’ll certainly want to go back and do so, it will provide all the context you need for this one.  I had originally planned for this to be a three-part story, but as often happens to Smartypants Know-it-alls like myself, the narrative keeps expanding as I find out more Stuff. I promise to bring this narrative to a conclusion in this episode.

October 19th, 1795 was the grand opening performance of John Bill Ricketts’ Circus and Art Pantheon, the Classically columned and peak-roofed theater at the Southwest corner of Sixth and Chestnut Streets in Philadelphia. The company of equestrians and other performers in Ricketts’ ensemble was at its strongest level yet. Signor and Signora Spinacuta (as well as another Italian named ‘Signor Reano’) had returned to do rope-dancing, equestrian feats, and to act in skits. There were now two young American apprentices, Master Long and Master Hutchins. Francis Ricketts, John Bill’s brother, had just turned eighteen and was ready to take on solo equestrian and acrobatic tricks. Matthew Sully and his son were engaged to create and perform the pantomime sections of the show. To accompany the action, there was a band of professional musicians, led by a Mr. Collet on violin. By November, the Sullys added a new feature to the show, a pantomime entitled Harlequin Statue. From the title, we can judge that it was done in a typical Londontype of pantomime, with a wand-bearing harlequin figure transforming or bringing to life inanimate objects. In December, as Christmas Day approached, advertisements for the show gave a precise description of the program (once again I;ll try to make my vocal impressions mirror the boldface fonts and exciting typefaces of a circus poster):

This Evening 23rd Dec. Will be brought forward A Grand Display of Equestrian and Stage Performances by Mr. Ricketts and his Celebrated Company!

First Act - HORSEMANSHIP

Second - STAGE PERFORMANCES
Third - EQUESTRIAN EXERCISES

Fourth - STAGE PERFORMANCES

Fifth - LOFTY VAULTING

To Conclude with a VERY HUMOROUS EXHIBITION

The Chestnut Street Theatre across the street evidently was keenly feeling the competition of its rival, for it too was soon advertising acrobats, clowns, and ‘feats of activity’, that it humorously and rather desperately entitled “T’other Side of the Gutter”. But this competition did not damage the success of Ricketts’ shows. Performances continued regularly, three days a week, and by April 15th of 1796, Rickett’s publicity in the local papers was getting quite elaborately phrased and specific:

In the course of the Pantomime will be displayed the following Tricks and Machinery:

The DWARF OUTWITTED; or Harlequin turned Market-Woman.

The MAGIC BOX; or Harlequin’s Aide-de-Camp.

The NECROMANTIC ACT; or The Clown’s flight in a Balloon.

The TRANSFORMING CHAIR; or the Lover Defeated.
 A GRAND CHANGE from the SEA, to a Grotto of Mirth and Good Fellowship. 

 . . . .The entertainment of the evening to conclude with GOLDSMITH’S EPILOGUE, by

Mr. Sully in the character of Harlequin; who will for that night only, take a flying leap into

The CRATER of MOUNT VESUVIUS. At the moment of eruption - the FIREWORKS by

Mons. Ambroise, of Arch Street.

As can be seen, the performances, especially by the talented Sully, now were dominated not by just horses and acrobats, but by inventive clowning and pantomimes with exciting narratives, as well as by a considerable investment in stage effects. “The Clown’s Flight in a Balloon” may have recalled the January 1793, ascent of French balloonist Jean-Pierre Blanchard from the grounds of the Walnut Street Prison, just a short distance away from where Ricketts had built his circus. No doubt many in the Philadelphia audience remembered the event and appreciated the local reference. Ricketts was by this point a master at how to shape and provide his audience with pleasing spectacles. The show ended with a display of fireworks, a typical finale for equestrian shows since the days of Phillip Astley, whom we discussed in Part Two.

Despite all the new theatrical display, the equestrian side of the business had by no means been neglected. Ricketts, always the star of the show, was now proudly exhibiting his powerful new horse, Cornplanter, which Ricketts had named after the well-known and respected Iroquois leader of the Seneca people. This new steed was so strong and nimble that it could leap over other horses. And although he admitted that many of the human company were not American, Ricketts would trumpet that at least the horses were native-born!  “The Famous American Horse, Cornplanter” appears in the text of his every advertisement from this time onward. The shows continued well into Spring, and it seems that Ricketts was willing to let his fellow performers take more of the comic sketches. The usual “Tailor Riding to Brentford” skit was replaced at the finale by such pantomimes as The Triumph of Virtue; or Harlequin in Philadelphia. But Rickets was still the equestrian star of the most important parts of the show, with his younger brother acting as a secondary leading man. Reported the early chronicler of the circus, Isaac Greenwood:

Among Mr. Ricketts’ various feats at this time was his throwing a somersault over 30 men’s heads and over five horses with their mounted riders; he would also ride two horses at full gallop and leap over a garter or ribbon 12 feet high, or ride the same horses, each foot on a quart-mug standing loose on the saddles, and at times would mount on the shoulders of two riders, each standing on a separate horse, “forming a pyramid 15 feet high,” a feat never attempted before by any equestrian. Young Ricketts . . . would leap over a spiked bar, or ride around the ring, his head balanced on a pint-mug resting on the saddle; he would also dismount blindfolded, pick up a watch and remount. The acrobatic display we have seen given at Astley’s, viz., “The Egyptian Pyramids”, was also introduced, only it is described in the play bills “as described by Addison in Travels through Egypt”.

Greenwood’s description once again confirms how much of Rickett’s show was derived from that of the London circuses. Like the Chestnut Street Theatre, he offered America a brand of cultural entertainment that was still very much a product of the empire from which it had just won its political independence. It seems to have been uniformly popular throughout the new nation, and indeed upon conclusion of the Philadelphia season in the Spring of 1796, Ricketts and his company departed once more for a summer tour of New York and New England.

When they returned to Philadelphia again in October for the 1796-97 winter season, the company had grown even larger, and its theatrical ambitions were even more impressive. There were now eighteen performers in all, with a great number of well-seasoned horses, as well as carpenters, painters, and musicians. In addition, Ricketts had finally succeeded in recruiting the professional American dancer, clown, and comedian, John Durang.

One of the first American born professional entertainers, the dancer, comedian, actor and puppeteer John Durang deserves a podcast episode of his own. He was the father of Charles Durang, an early historian of the American stage, and an ancestor of the playwright Christopher Durang.

 The twenty-five dollars per week offer of employment, recalled Durang many years later, “were liberal and to my advantage . . . fortune appeared to invite me. I waited on Mr. Ricketts and excepted  his offer.” This new member of the company quickly improved his mastery of equestrian skills so that he could now dance his favorite hornpipes on horseback while circling the ring. This dance must have been a crowd-pleaser, for Ricketts’ continued to supplement his equestrian acts with ballets and pantomimes. Durang was featured frequently in these shows, and was performing leading roles in two pantomimes that were added to the show, entitled The Two Philosophers and Don Juan. Durang himself created a ballet he named The Country Frolic; or, the Merry Haymakers.  It is unfortunate that although we possess the enticing titles of these sketches, no text or detailed contemporary description of the action have as yet been discovered.

The national Election of 1796 had taken place during the company’s absence from Philadelphia, and Ricketts would have known that political change was in the air. Indeed, the whole company must have been very gratified when once again the outgoing President George Washington, who was growing weary of the cares of office and was soon to retire to Mount Vernon, Virginia, sat in the audience of the circus on January 24th, 1797. The incoming chief executive, John Adams, had been known to attend the theater occasionally when he was Washington’s Vice President, but he certainly did not have Washington’s love and long intimacy with horses. While resident in Philadelphia in February of 1796, Adams had complained by letter to his wife Abigail, back in Massachusetts, that their visiting son Charles was perhaps too busy attending to the diversions available in the city. “He goes to the supream [sic] Court 2 days and to Ricketts and the Theatre 2 Nights so that I have not so much of his Company as I could wish  . . .” 

As his inauguration as President approached in early March of 1797, John Adams at least saw the interior of Ricketts’ Amphitheatre and Art Pantheon, when an elaborate ball was given there in honor of the departing George and Martha Washington. Thousands of other people were also in attendance to say farewell to the couple, and as Washington himself ‘handed in’ his wife the applause was overwhelming. Everyone present in the circus building that evening would of course also have been well aware that another transition was soon approaching, for during the term of the incoming Adams Administration, the capital of the United States was required to move south to the new city of Washington in the District of Columbia. In fact, Philadelphia would no longer even be the capital of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, whose seat of government would relocate to the city of Lancaster in 1799. Professional providers of popular entertainment like Ricketts, who of necessity stayed keenly aware of shifting centers of cultural and political influence, were already making plans for additional tours and travels - elsewhere than Philadelphia.

For the meantime, though, Ricketts was determined to succeed in those places where he already made significant investments of time and money. As the 1797 Philadelphia season continued, Ricketts poured even more resources into the theatrical elements of his shows. Reflecting growing public demand for sensation and melodrama, the scenarios and scenic effects became even more spectacular. A historical pantomime (again, borrowed from the Astley’s example), The Death of Captain Cook, in which Durang played a Polynesian priest, featured not only war dances, battle scenes, and the murder of the British explorer in the Hawaiian surf, but also the hero’s subsequent funeral. “The Whole to conclude with An Awful Representation of A Burning Mountain!” the public was advised. The Philadelphian writing in a newspaper under the name of “Spectator,” compared the circus’ performances with those of  Chestnut Street’s New Theatre, finding the theatre’s works “stale” compared to “the exertions made by the Manager of the Amphitheatre, Mr. Rickets, who has unquestionably exhibited some of the most beautiful Pantomime ever seen in America.” It must be allowed, of course, that in accordance with the journalistic practices of the time, “Spectator” may have either been in the employ of Ricketts, or might have been the horse master himself.

Yet there were some definite warnings of trouble ahead for Ricketts. The population of Philadelphia was not growing sufficiently to regularly fill the large arena four nights a week.  Box office returns were less than Ricketts would have hoped. And the costs of maintaining the building, the lavish scenery and costumes, and supporting the large troupe pressed upon him. It was at this point that Ricketts purchased and exhibited George Washington’s old horse, Jack, in the hopes of drawing in some more curious onlookers. As John Durang wrote, these expenses, in addition to the considerable outlay for enlarging his company and maintaining his other establishment in New York, “would have proved his ruin if he had to keep them long.” Nonetheless, Ricketts plunged ahead, offering the public a new ballet spectacle, Oscar and Malvina: Or, the House of Fingall. By seizing upon the widely popular Celtic poems of James McPherson, Ricketts once again showed an awareness of a larger world literary culture, and was acknowledging the new Romantic spirit of the age. But his resources, both in time and money, grew thinner. Due to the pressures of running the business he even stopped giving his morning riding lessons. For the Christmas season Ricketts staged pony races within the circus building, the two ponies rushing between the pit and the stage on ramps, with young Masters Hutchins and Long riding upon their backs. All of this extra activity reveals an urgent need to draw crowds, and apparently it was to some extent successful. 

It was perhaps during this busy sojourn in Philadelphia that Ricketts spent some of his scarce free time sitting for his portrait by Charles Gilbert Stuart, an artist who had made his name painting Washington and other eminent Philadelphians. The portrait of Ricketts remains frustratingly incomplete, with the head of the horse (most likely Cornplanter) only barely sketched. I’ve put a copy of the painting on the website for the show (link in the show notes).

The outline of his master’s hand rests across the horse’s muzzle. The muddy outline of a second horse wraps cozily around his neck, perhaps a whimsical way for Stuart to apply a dark undercoat of paint needed for later overpainting and revisions. The face of the main subject, Ricketts, is young and vigorous, with piercing dark eyes boldly meeting those of the viewer. Ricketts’ strong nose, which can also be seen in the earlier drawings and prints we have of him, is emphatically rendered on the handsome face. Stuart presents a portrait of a man used to public regard, and proudly confident of his own abilities.

Ricketts’ energy and ambition even took him once again beyond the borders of the United States. The dancer Durang and the horse Cornplanter would both accompany Ricketts’ troupe on an arduous journey to Canada in the summer of 1797, making the overland trek to Montreal and Quebec City. Meanwhile, Ricketts’ brother Francis took a smaller selection of the company on an independent tour of Maryland and Pennsylvania. Unfortunately the younger Ricketts proved to be a poor manager, and the receipts of the Canadian tour had to be counterbalanced by the losses Francis incurred. 

In a further frustrating development, during the period of Ricketts’ absence yet another British equestrian, Philip Lailson, suddenly arrived in town and attempted to establish his own Philadelphia circus. Building for his company a domed amphitheatre on Fifth Street between Walnut and Spruce, not far from Ricketts’ Pantheon. Lailson even hired the Sully family to provide the clowning and pantomimes for his performances. This show included a new equestrian pantomime about the horse of Alexander the Great, entitled The Death of Bucephalus. Perhaps to Ricketts’ grim satisfaction, Lailson soon had to abandon his Philadelphia venture entirely when ticket sales disappointed. Further misfortune occurred when Lailson’s new circus dome collapsed during a heavy winter snow.

So, except perhaps for the wary managers of the Chestnut Street Theatre management gazing at their rivals from across the street, Philadelphia once again welcomed Ricketts home to his circus amphitheatre on December 26th of 1798. The residents of the city must have seen Ricketts’ arrival as a sign of return to normal life, because the Yellow Fever had once again heavily struck the city during the summer and autumn. Waiting for this new crisis to pass had in fact delayed Ricketts’ return until after Christmas Day.

By John Durang’s account, the troupe was certainly happy to be back at its home base. Traveling to Montreal, Boston, and New York had been exciting, but these were arduous and exhausting trips. Yet there was no time to waste as they prepared another new pantomime to offer the Philadelphia public. Its title was Don Juan, or, a Libertine Destroyed - a subject with great scenic possibilities, and the pyrotechnic equipment that had formerly served for representations of Mount Vesuvius could now easily serve for the required Mouth of Hell. The “Tailor of Brentford'' gag was rewritten, in light of their recent experiences in the Far North, as The Canada Postboy’s Journey to Quebec, with Durang now performing the part of the drunken rider whose journey is hilariously frustrated. After a few months' residence in the city, a tour of Virginia and Maryland followed. Ricketts also made a stop in the city of Washington in the District of Columbia, then under development and soon to replace Philadelphia as the national capital. No doubt while there he cast a shrewd eye on where he might build yet another circus amphitheater. But the company once again took up residence at its home base in Philadelphia in October of 1799.

However, disaster was about to strike. On December 17th, 1799, the very night the news of George Washington’s death at Mount Vernon reached Philadelphia, Ricketts’ Pantheon became an early casualty on the long list of Philadelphia’s theaters to be destroyed by fire. By several later accounts, the company’s carpenter had left a candle unattended backstage (“where he kept his bottle” Durang acidly noted) during the evening’s performance of Don Juan, and the rear of the building was quickly ablaze. The fireworks that were stored in the building exploded, and added mightily to the conflagration. Though it was fortunate that the horses, the costumes, and much of the scenery were rescued by the frantic members of the circus company, the Pantheon itself continued to burn, and was eventually completely destroyed. All of Ricketts dreams, and years of his hard work, literally went up in smoke.

Stabling his horses and equipment wherever he could find in the city, and seeking public sympathy and assistance, Ricketts would afterwards publicly claim in the Philadelphia newspapers that ruffians were seen on the roof of the circus that evening and had deliberately set the fire, and offered a thousand dollar reward. But no one ever stepped forward to claim it. The fire had just been bad luck, but it was a devastating setback, one from which Ricketts would never recover.

In fact, Ricketts was beginning to have his doubts about the trouble and expense of maintaining the theatrical side of the circus business at all. Perhaps as someone whose deepest experience was in working with animals, not with plays, Ricketts had always been somewhat uneasy with the theater world. John Durang would later remember a conversation he had with Ricketts at this low point in his fortunes. “Mr. Ricketts was convince[d], by experience, that a[n] equestrian performance blended with dramatic performance would never agree or turn out to advantage, but must evidently fall to ruin. The public’s taste is only to be gratify’d to see dramatic performance at a regular theatre where the manager’s whole study and labour is devoted to bring it to perfection.” A circus must be well-regulated and presented “within its own sphere,” Ricketts concluded, and afterwards his employment of clowns and pantomimes was much reduced. 

Wignall and Reinagle, for their part, were undoubtedly much relieved to be free of his competition. As we shall learn in the next episode, their Chestnut Street performance ensemble at what was locally referred to as the New Theater went on to be the most eminent theater company in America, earning the affection sobriquet of “Old Drury”. John Durang, for his part, continued to stage ballets, comic plays, acrobatics, and musical evenings at the “Old” Theatre on South Street, and elsewhere in Pennsylvania, for the rest of his career. He spent many years himself performing comic roles and dances with the Chestnut Street company, though at a much reduced salary from his circus days.

In April of 1800 Ricketts made a brief attempt to revive his fortunes and perform in the roofless arena of the absent Lailson troupe, but even Durang pronounced the resulting show ‘gloomy’. No doubt feeling that his days in the United States were finally over, Ricketts and his brother Francis left Philadelphia on the schooner Sally with ten of their horses, and attempted to sail to Barbados to try their luck at producing shows for the rich plantation owners and other residents. They even stowed enough lumber on board to build a circus structure once they arrived, a necessary measure for the by then mostly de-forested islands of the Caribbean.  Sad to say, Ricketts' string of ill-fortune continued, and the schooner was captured by French privateers near the island of Guadeloupe. Amazingly, although all his property and horses were stolen and sold to locals by the privateers, the ever-resourceful Ricketts managed to recover a few horses, and he even staged enough performances on the nearby island of Martinique to make enough money to charter a ship that would take him back to England. 

But this ship would prove to be his last. Evidently an old and unreliable vessel, it never arrived in England, and was presumed to have sunk in an Atlantic storm, along with all its crew and passengers. John Bill Ricketts had given his last show, and after several years his family would have him declared legally dead. The informal fellowship of English equestrians, clowns and acrobats mourned him. “The fame of this person excelled all his predecessors, and it is said he has never been surpassed,” a London circus performer wrote later in sadness. 

Francis Ricketts, who had stayed behind in the Caribbean, would eventually return to Philadelphia. However, without his more talented and charismatic brother, he never managed to have further success in the business and he soon sold off the empty lot where the Pantheon had once stood. 

As the years passed, the memories of Ricketts’ elaborate shows began to dim in Philadelphia. When the painter Gilbert Stuart died almost three decades later, an unfinished portrait of a handsome equestrian was found in his collection, and no one could even remember who exactly it was. Someone wrote in pencil on the bottom of the canvas, mistakenly, that the subject was surely the ‘Horse Equestrian, Breschard, a friend of the painter’. Eventually scholars and devotees of circus history would correct the record. 

In the longer run, two particular elements of Ricketts’ career seem to have done quite a lot to assure his lasting historical reputation. Firstly, his canniness in publishing and promoting his physical image in advertisements, prints, and portraits have meant that his features and form are often referenced in books and online articles - especially in recent years as digital copies of these images can be easily shared and exhibited. Though many other types of itinerant performers were soon learning the benefits of promoting their images through printed advertisement, oddly few of his circus contemporaries seem to have done the same. 

Secondly, the allure of two words: ‘first’ and ‘circus’ has continued to guarantee his fame, at least, among both the chroniclers of the circus and historians of theater. The understandable mental association with American traveling circuses of a later date has fueled a continuing historical interest in Ricketts. His career in America was much briefer than many other entertainers of his day, both legitimate and popular, but he is nonetheless the object of recurring fascination - an abundance of journalistic, scholarly, and general interest articles and books have been devoted to him. I am very grateful for all their work and scholarship in helping me with the research for these episodes.

[TRANSITION]

Today, at the corner of Twelfth and Market Streets, at the base of the PSF Building for those of you that know Philadelphia, a blue historical marker - one of the many helpful metallic sentinels sprouting from the sidewalks of Philadelphia -  stands to commemorate  ‘America’s first circus building” and “America’s first complete equestrian performance”.

However no marker stands at the former site of Rickett’s Circus and Art Pantheon on Sixth and Chestnut Streets, where Ricketts’ most elaborate theatrical shows were presented to the public of the new nation, the United States. Nor is there a marker across the street, where his rival, the stately and illustrious Chestnut Street Theatre, once stood. But perhaps this is for the best. In the years to come, the city of Philadelphia would become the home to an enormous number of theater artists, elaborate auditoriums, and many many popular entertainment venues, including circuses - even the kind later ages would expect of a proper circus, with the elephants and lions and clowns and cotton candy. If all of these were to be awarded markers and signposts, the already cluttered and narrow sidewalks of the city of Philadelphia would become impossible for anyone to navigate. 

But that’s what I’m trying to do here, to make some sort of public record, so that you can tap your friend, or your grandkid, or your business partner on the shoulder every time you come to the corner of Sixth and Chestnut and say: Hey you know what USED to be here? Let me tell you a story . . . 
   
Thanks for listening. Next episode I’ll turn to the story of how Philadelphia and its theater was developing and changing in the early 19th Century. Another Circus act comes to town, and we see the founding and construction of what would eventually become the Walnut Street Theatre - still the oldest continuously operating theater in the English Speaking World! See you again soon on “Adventures in Theater History: Philadelphia”.