South Yorkshire Times August 12, 1950
Biggest Little Circus
Peeps Behind the Scenes at Conisbrough
They came quietly on Wednesday morning. A preliminary notice or two on hoardings in and around Conisbrough attracted more attention than their actual coming. They lorries and converted buses swept through Conisbrough and into the fairground of Low Road. Within an hour, pushed away in a corner and the electricity generators had the tabernacle of the tent top.
One-Day Stay
They were only in Conisbrough for one day but they were the first circus that the town has known for many years. By Thursday morning they were gone.
The “Big Top” was only a small one. The owner of the circus reasoned that a small circus could go to any town it chose — just such a place as Conisbrough. A big one must stay with the big towns. The faded marquee that Conisbrough saw holds perhaps 1,500 people. But the owner, 58-years-old Bob Gandey has had a 2,500 capacity tent resident at Morecambe for the last five years.
Wednesday’s was a family circus. The whole company numbers only 18 and they do all the work themselves The tent goes up, the ring is laid out, the show is performed by, and serviced by the same people, day after day They are a family to themselves. It is just the sort of circus to appeal to other families-and especially to children.
Thirty Ponies
Actually it is the biggest of the small circuses in England. It has travelling within the biggest string of Shetland ponies, all bred and trained by Bob Gandey. There are 30, and small this is only 22 inches high. Gandey considers himself the biggest Shetland breeder the side of Aberdeen, and has a farm in Cheshire. He has the right background for breeding horses, anyway.
He was a farmer’s son, born and living in Kent. He went to a racing stable as a stable lad he was when 14 and was at Epsom when a suffragette threw herself under the hooves of the King’s horse. He has been in circus life for over 40 years. In his own company he is equestrian master, and comes into the programme again with some whip work, as a cowboy.
That part of him is authentic, too. He had five years as a juvenile lead in horse sagas in the old silent film days.
His work in the circus keeps to seasons. From March to October, he and his company are touring. Then comes a month’s rest. From December to February he and his son “Jo-Jo,” the chief clown go into pantomime—often as robbers. Some of the Shetlands he trains also make entries into pantomime, usually into “Cinderella,” while the performing sheep he occasionally introduces become stars in “Little Bo Peep.” In February, the Gandeys take a month off, resting and preparing for the next season in circus.
They say an old soldier never dies. It is the same with a showman. Oldest member of the company has been with Gandey for seven years. He retired from the profession a year or two since. He found a peaceful, lazy, retired life too hard, and was rejuvenated when Gandey sent for him to rejoin the show. Now, Ivan Orloff, ex-officer of the Latvian Army who served with the British Army in the 1914-18 war and a former champion wrestler is back in the Business. The oldest strong man in the world – at 65 – is still amazing the crowds with his feats of strength, and with extraordinary fitness.
Circus clowns and acrobats and artists are not always born into the game. Gandhi Junior kept up the strain of country life begun by his former father when he married a farmer’s daughter. His wife is now a trapezist with the show, and looks as if she has been doing it all her life.
Hard Life
The life is a hard one. On tour the company has to be up andworking at daybreak. That is why they will always carry a cockerel with them, to tell them the time.
They will never pass another showman on the road, if broken down, and they will never whistle in their dressing rooms. Gandey senior will not have any stuffed birds in his “digs” and no circus proprietor will ever pay any ground rent before the patrons file through into the tent. Last year, at this time, they met a fierce storm in the South of England. They were fighting the wind for hours, trying to keep their £1,000 worth of tentage on the ground. They were lucky, and escaped only with a huge rent in the canvas. However, they are covered for such accidents — fire, wind, accident, third-party liability —by their union, the Circus Associlation.
But Bob Gandey would always rather have the old days of showing. Of course, with no tax then and with everything far cheaper, there was always a good chance of making the circus pay. It still pays, although there are districts, Lincoln has been one this year — where the company meets a slump.
The heraldry of fifty years back, when transport was drawn by horse, was far better than 1950’s motorised age. Now a circus is through a town before the citizens realise it has passed. Once there used to be tremendous processions, with all the animals taking part.
Circus values have changed little, however, people still flock to see a good show. Gandhi’s is a real circus. There is no zoo about it, he claims. He has lions – they only frightened his biggest customers, the children. Horses are what they want to see, and he provides them.
The only excursion into zoo life in Wednesday’s programme was when a monkey entered the ring. It was riding a pony.