All day long the celebrated atrium, one of the largest rooms in the world, rang and sang with laughter and greeting, from early in the morning when we were romantically awakened by the sound of the reveille until we closed our eyes that evening.
The stories read like something from a Christmas fairytale.
But they’re all true-life echoes from one of the most captivating days in West
Baden Springs Hotel’s rich history.
We’re nearing the 100th anniversary of the day
the hotel’s atrium staged a spectacle beyond belief — a circus performance on
Christmas Day of 1918, put on for the soldiers who were staying there. At the
time, West Baden Springs Hotel closed to guests for a seven-month span between
1917 and 1918 when it briefly assumed a new name and a new identity: U.S.
General Hospital Number 35. An Army hospital where wounded soldiers from World
War I were sent.
French Lick Resort was fortunate to receive a treasure trove
of information about the 1918 Christmas Circus, thanks to a librarian from the
area who has a passion for West Baden’s history and an even greater nose for
research. She preferred not to be mentioned by name: “this story belongs to
West Baden’s history,” she says. “West Baden is so unique and beautiful—and the
Christmas Circus of 1918 reflects this.”
Soldiers outside the Army hospital at West Baden. Note in the background the "Unites States Army Hospital 35" sign and the old bicycle/pony track. |
A huge tip of the cap to her, though, since her research
poring through old newspapers, journals and other publications has shed more
light on the circus courtesy of the people who were there to see it. The
italicized sections of this blog are accounts from some of the soldiers,
performers and guests who were there that day to witness all the pageantry of
December 25, 1918.
It is safe to say that
no performance was ever given before a more appreciative and enthusiastic
audience.
About 2,250 soldiers in total were treated during West
Baden’s Army hospital stint, as a sense of patriotism prompted several similar
resort properties in the U.S. to offer their facilities as hospitals during the
World War I era. The hotel retained some of its posh comforts and services,
such as the baths and massages that the spa staff administered to weary
soldiers.
Nothing, though, compared to what they were treated to on
Christmas Day.
With the first faint
rays of the early dawn, the chimes peeled out the Nativity. Carolers strolled
through the great building, first in the lobby then in the great court, out
upon the balconies, through the long corridors, telling in echoing cadence the
joyous story of Christmas morn. After breakfast, gifts were distributed and
friends were allowed a real visit.
The tree had gone up two days earlier in the atrium. And it
was a production in itself. “The largest that could be found in Orange County,
so tall that its top-most branch reached the fourth floor,” it was touted. It
towered 45 feet high — a couple feet taller than the modern-day tree you see in
the center of the atrium at Christmastime.
Long streamers from the balconies on the top floor artfully
curved to a meeting point 50 feet above the floor, with a large five-pointed
star just above. The star and tree were illuminated by electric bulbs after
nightfall, with festoons, stockings, balls and bells also accenting the tree.
It was decorated, with
great enthusiasm, by sweaty solders who lugged hundreds upon hundreds of gift
boxes to be distributed later.
Music from three pianos filled the atrium with graceful
notes, before the circus got rollicking in the afternoon. Why a circus?
It was thanks to the connection with Ed Ballard, an
influential man from the community who also would eventually assume ownership
of West Baden Springs Hotel a few years down the road. Ballard owned six circus
companies, including the Hagenbeck-Wallace Circus that was nationally renowned
at the time. The circus toured from April-October, and during winter, and the
troupe was quartered in West Baden Springs. Those were exciting times during
the winter, when the town’s population increased by 1,000 with the circus
influx, and it took 60 train cars to carry the performers, animals, props and
tents to West Baden.
This Christmas Day circus was more of a beast for everyone
to pull off.
To accommodate the jumping, running, leaping and romping of
the animal performers — five lions, four elephants, a large white horse just to
name a few — a ring of sawdust and wood chips was placed on the floor so the
marble tiles wouldn’t be damaged. And not all the animals fit through the
atrium entranceway with ease. It’s believed the elephants may have had to walk
on their knees to gain enough clearance to squeeze through the doors.
A good crowd gathered around the circus tent, from the ground floor up to the folks who watched from windows and balconies. |
But at 2:30 sharp in the afternoon, the big-top show under
the West Baden dome commenced in grand fashion.
As if by magic there
sprang up in the east end of the (atrium) a large platform and a circus ring
with real tan bark. Here, four huge elephants performed their tricks and five
snarling, fang-dripping lions. … A beauteous dame did lightsome and frilly
equestrian business on a big white horse, with a cute little black horse for
comedy.
Concluding the circus performance was a clown and his two boxing dogs, all of which furnished an exciting time for the audience.
Concluding the circus performance was a clown and his two boxing dogs, all of which furnished an exciting time for the audience.
Marguerite Cottrell (with her husband on her shoulders) was one of the circus stars on her white horse. |
Stand in the hotel’s atrium today, and it’s incredible to think about the spectacle those people witnessed there 100 years ago.
One of the lions jumped over a 3-foot fence that was ablaze
with fire. A small monkey named Eddie Pluto hopped around the atrium doing
tricks and entertaining the soldiers. Tom Sanger, a famous circus clown from the
era, boxed with his kangaroo and brought down the house.
Old circus ads from the era featured Emil Schwyer (the lion trainer at the Christmas circus) as well as boxing kangaroos. |
These crippled
American boys were grinning to forget their pain, cheering the clown, and
giving the kangaroo an ovation.
And everyone had a seat for the show — even the more
seriously injured soldiers who were placed in rooms with a balcony view to overlook
the circus below.
Every boy who could be
brought down to the main floor was allowed the privilege of joining the jolly
groups there, but not even the ones who could not leave their beds were
transferred into the rooms that looked out upon the court, with their beds placed
so that they could see and hear everything that was going on without lifting
their heads from the pillows.
The Christmas Day cheer didn’t end there.
At 5 o’clock, the soldiers sat down to a special dinner,
followed by the evening performance at 7:15 — the hospital orchestra as well as
professional talent brought down from Indianapolis. With one thing after the
next in a spectacle that lasted all day, “the spectators, especially the
patients, were becoming fatigued from the constant excitement,” according to
one account.
The soldier's glee club in the atrium during the Army hospital era. |
There’s nothing better than a surprise on Christmas. And this holiday 100 years may have been the ultimate surprise when the Army hospital soldiers unwrapped one of the most unusual, fascinating days in West Baden Springs Hotel history.
Tom Sanger (the kangaroo-boxing clown) may have said it best
from one of the accounts from the day:
I’ve played many a
date, but this takes the cake.