From the Montana Collection

The Circus Comes to Libby

Libby in the early 1900's was a busy, growing community. Area residents worked long days in the forests and mines, or on homesteads carved out of the wilderness. Jacoba Brad Boothman, born in Holland, raised ten children on one such homestead. Jacoba was only nineteen when she came to Libby in 1898. In the years that followed, she and her family experienced the joys and frustrations of living in a beautiful but isolated region. Her book Homestead on the Kootenai provides a fascinating, personal account of rural life in the early part of this century. The following excerpt describes the excitement generated by the arrival of touring circus - an historical first for the young community.

"When we had crossed the river and were walking up the opposite bank we could hear the calliope several blocks away. Its weird music filled the air and set boys to marching. It came closer and closer, until finally there it was, right in front of us, followed by a number of fine, dappled-gray horses ridden by elegant ladies in black velvet costumes trimmed with gold and silver braid. The ladies smiled to right and left, flicking their slender whips daintily, their stovepipe hats nodding up and down with the rhythm of the horses' prancing. Then came two camels ridden by Arabs in baggy trousers, silk blouses, and red turbans. A little black boy led the llama, and a tall black man led a bear. Next came a big red and gilt wagon drawn by four big horses with glittering harness. This wagon carried the brass band, the musicians wearing blue uniforms trimmed in gold braid and stovepipe hats with golden plumes. Little Paul, who was riding on Harry's shoulder, clapped his hands with glee. Even baby Tom was enjoying the fun and excitement as I held him up to see.

Along came a wagon with three bears, another witha lion - others with hyenas, tigers, and leopards. Then came the Shetland ponies, which delighted the children, and then the clowns. The "band of elephants" turned out to be one tired old fellow. The bridge across Flower Creek, over which the rest of the parade had passed, crashed down under the weight of this huge beast. But he did not sem to mind - he plodded right on through splintered wood and mud.

It seemed that this first circus to come to Libby was a bigger event than all the rest of the holidays - Fourth of July, Labor Day, and Christmas - rolled into one. The streets were lined with people. There was no doubt about it, everyone was there. I had no idea there were so many people in the whole community.

We sauntered over to the big top. The children had never seen anything like this before. They were in a new and different world..... In the side show the children liked the Punch and Judy best. They didn't care so much for the fat lady or the midgets, or the fellow who threw knives at the pretty lady. But they were fascinated by the lady "that let snakes walk all over her."

We went into the main entrance, and strolled araound, looking at the wild animals in their cages. The boys put peanuts through the bars for the monkeys. Harry was carrying little Paul, and Tommy was riding on my hip. We were getting tired and very warm , so we were glad to climb up to our seats and watch the antics of the clowns. Then the horses came out, with their brilliant riders, and the ringmaster cracking his whip, and after that the trapeze artists and the roaring lions - and more lemonade for the children, with the crunching of the ice when they reached the bottom of their glasses. And the balloons - after all, it wouldn't be a circus without balloons - red, blue, yellow, and green.

A tired and dusty family, we trudged to the ferry landing and rode across the river. The boys scuffed along - their copper-toed shoes dusty, and their white starched shirts limp and dirty - happily discussing all the wonderful things they had seen. And they laughed once more about the elephant crashing through the bridge. The four little boys cuddled down in the back of the buggy in the hay that the horses had left, as we jogged home through the woods in the cool of the evening. Carlo greeted us wildly, and the cow was by the gate ready to be let into the barn."

Brad, Jacoba Boothman. Homestead on the Kootenai. Caxton Printers, Caldwell, Idaho 1960. pp. 109-112.