Hans and Martha looked up with their mouths open. An elephant stood on a pedestal to the right above the entrance to the Circus Sarrasani. The head with the hanging trunk emerged from the flow of electric light from the illuminated facade and seemed to be looking at the two children.
“If you keep your mouth open like that, the crows will take your lunch out of your stomach.” Fourteen-year-old Hans and his ten-year-old sister Martha nodded in the direction they suspected the adult had called to be. But there was nobody. A clown, who was between Martha and Hans in terms of height, smiled a little deeper at her.
“A dwarf,” her little sister exclaimed, covering her mouth with her hand when she realized she’d taken a wrong step. The so-called laughed out loud.
“It’s all right, my little one. I’m Willi and I’m part of the Sarrasani clown troupe, as you can see from me. I’ve been watching you for a while. Would you like to see the inside of the circus?” The clown gasped. He laughed. They both nodded.
The event was approaching
On December 22, 1912, the brothers had stood in front of the building since it got dark and were already freezing. However, the 4th Advent with its zero degrees and daytime sunshine did not allow both of us to squat in the warm room on the third floor of the side building at Hechtstraße 11. His mother was heavily pregnant with her third child and his father , a cigar worker by profession, was happy that he could let all five go. So Hans and Martha headed to the new Circus Sarrasani on Carolaplatz, all bundled up. There were already many people there who, like her, really wanted to see the king.
The inauguration of this magnificent building of European stature1 it was the social event of the year. The house manager had arranged this cleverly. The gross proceeds from this first performance went to the benefit of the children’s sanatorium, which was under the protectorate of the Saxon king. Ergo, he had to be present at the opening.
And if Majesty and his family were present, then of course the high nobility, the official dignitaries of the town and the city, the heads of the churches, the main entrepreneurs, the upper middle class, of course also the military, the grandees of the theater and music and visual arts and literature and even those who thought they were better. Guests also had to pay double the entrance fees for this. Ordinary people were allowed to cheer their superiors on the square.
The crafty Sarrasani also showed his social vein. That came anyway. And each of the clown troupe was allowed to look for two people from the square, who found free admission.
Director Hans Stosch-Sarrasani Sr. and his conscience
He stopped on the parapet of the upper gallery and looked into the still empty rotunda4. She mentally patted herself on the back and her eyes filled with pride. Yes, she had gotten what she wanted. Even more than her ancestors combined, she told herself. A week ago2 the artists, acrobats, clowns, tamers, animals, caravans and technology arrived in two trains, each with 24 carriages, at the freight yard Dresden-Neustadt from Frankfurt am Main. Much to the sympathy of the Dresden population and the local press, they marched in the new Carolaplatz district.
A laugh tore him from his dreams. He turned around and… there was no one. Then he realized that this laughter was happening in his head. “Don’t be surprised, you arrogant fool. It’s just me, your conscience. He didn’t do it all by himself.”
The director didn’t leave it on himself. “Do you have any idea what resistance I had to overcome before this house can be opened today?3 For years I have been fighting a guerrilla war of intrigue, comedy, diplomatic deception7, jealousies and revolutions of cliques. At first I wanted to go to Berlin. But the Prussians weren’t too enthusiastic. Then only Munich. I wanted to build the first monumental circus of the twentieth century on the edge of the Theresienwiese”.
“Ah,” said the conscience. “It couldn’t be more modest. ‘Hans Erdmann Franz’, your mother always called you to order when you were swimming in megalomania and daydreaming. Hans Erdmann Franz, do you want to play king and emperor or even God now?
“Calm down! You can join the little spirits of Munich. Two years of guerrilla warfare was enough for me. I don’t need you there too. The world is quite full of these little minds, cowards, whiners and skeptics. If only we had listened to them today we’d still be sitting in trees. In any case, I’m not that sort of a disciple. So I went to Dresden. Again, it wasn’t a picnic. At my first audition, I was laughed at and escorted out of the room, bordering on rude But a Stosch doesn’t give in. And so I passed the dumbfounded Cerberus5 in Mayor Gustav Otto Beutler’s office.
From what I heard, he was a man with visions for a Dresden of European stature, and he quickly recognized the importance of my idea for the residence. I bought this area from the city in 1910 for 80 marks per square metre. Even the well-known city building official Hans Erlwein probably had nothing against it. And less than two years later you see this magnificent building here. What do you say now, nagging conscience?
Silence. With himself at peace, Hans Stosch-Sarrasani turned and walked out of his sanctuary smiling. Majesty will arrive soon and he has yet to slip into his tails.
Hans and Martha visiting the house
The Vestibule6 it seemed small enough for the two brothers. There was also a flower shop next to the checkouts. Then clown Willi brought the two into the ring. “5,000 people come in here,” he told the children, who marveled at the rotunda with its spectator seats, circus ring and stage.
“You won’t find anything like it anywhere else in Europe!”
“Not even in Paris?” Hans intervened.
“Neither in Paris nor in Rome, nor in London nor in St. Petersburg. Are you hungry?”
A resounding “yes” came from them. And so they were led to the artists’ hermitage, where other people in the square were already sitting with “their” clowns. Hans and Martha were served potato salad with bockwurst. There was also a Woodruff Lemonade. They hadn’t eaten anything this good for a long time.
Then Willi had another surprise. “Here you have two seat tickets for the show later.”
Hans and Martha couldn’t help but be amazed. For her, today was Christmas Eve, Easter and a birthday all rolled into one. They were led to their seats with the other guests on the street.
(Continued)
Author’s notes
1 see Dresden News of December 20, 1912
2 see Dresden News of December 16, 1912
3 from Die Weltschau – Sarrasani illustrated newspaper of 22 December 1912
4 rotunda: from Latin; it is a circular building
5 Cerberus: Latinized “demon of the pit” in ancient Greek mythology; the hellhound who guards the entrance to the underworld so that no living can enter and no dead can leave. In colloquial parlance, some dominant receptionists were referred to by bosses.
6 Vestibule: antechamber or hall
7 Puzzle – a game of teasing, teasing and deception. Also used in business and politics.
Under the heading “100 years ago” we publish anecdotes from the life, actions and thoughts of the great-grandmother and great-grandfather in no particular order. To do this, the Dresden writer and journalist Heinz Kulb is rummaging through the newspaper archives in the Saxony State and University Library. This text is literary in nature. The basis is researched facts, which he interweaves with imaginary influences.
