Written By Donna Costa
Mons-Natalie was a stage name. I presumed it was my great-grandfather, William Beilstein, but circus history sites have no record of Natalie’s true name on any payrolls. That said, the picture of Mons-Natalie on the Clipper letterhead is identical to the cabinet photo I have of William taken in Edward Hartley’s photography studio in Chicago. It is a part of the family records acquired along with the wardrobe box. The photo’s handwritten note, “First photo Grandma received from Grandpa,” was likely scrawled by Effie, William’s tenth child, born in 1912.
In the Hartley photo, William Beilstein stands proud and confident, dapper in a 3-piece suit and overcoat, wavy hair fashionably pomaded, handlebar moustache with tips waxed. He wears a distinctive coat with a wide fur collar and decorative frog closures—the same coat Mons-Natalie sports in a photo posted by Anonymous to accompany the death record of William Beilstein on the Find A Grave website.
Mons-Natalie’s circus career seems to have ended in 1903, when he was 43, and likely past peak performance as an acrobat. Or perhaps Adeline said “Enough is enough.”
My working supposition is that William Beilstein first began performing as Wm La Main in Vaudeville in Chicago, perhaps with the Dime Museum, where he could conceivably have practiced his balancing act, headstands and handstands. He would have gained additional experience with Forepaugh’s circus. Upon reaching a respectable level of expertise, he rebranded himself as Mons-Natalie, tried New York, returned to Chicago, then landed with Ringling Brothers Circus and later, Barnum and Bailey.
Circus annuals and route books are vintage publications that provide records of each stand during a seasons’ circuit and also document circus workers’ personal lives which were endlessly fascinating to a curious public. Route books were a valuable side income for circus owners.
Ringling’s 1892 route book contains references to the multiple roles of Mons-Natalie as a Leaper and Tumbler, a jolly king of the cap and bells (clown/jester), the Grecian Equilibrist in feats on a towering pyramid of bottles, chairs and tumblers, and as the great Grecian clown with his comical school of educated pigs—Pedro, Domino, Keno and Cinch. I couldn’t help but wonder if William had learned how to “educate” pigs when he grew up on the farm near Hanover, Ontario.
A circus ad in the route book proclaims, “These Wonderful Pigs go through all the tactics of a first-class Dog Circus, jumping hurdles, leaping through hoops of fire, rolling barrels, see-sawing, climbing ladders, tracing the figure 8.” The records also show that Natalie’s pigs pleased the farmers of Indianola Iowa and that Natalie was overjoyed to find the lost silver collar worn by his learned hog.
According to Ringling’s 1901 annual, Mons-Natalie, as one of forty Ringling clowns, was eligible for membership in the Puff Club, an exclusive organization “for high-salaried clowns [where] only the men who are really funny—the big guns—belong.” Whether William became a member cannot be verified: the club’s records have been lost.
Mons-Natalie’s escapades were traced in various publications. On July 4, 1902, in Grafton, North Dakota, he reportedly insisted upon reciting the Declaration of Independence in unison with three circus colleagues until “Firecrackers were shot in abundance and everybody had a good time.” The following day, in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Natalie and two chums went fishing after the matinee, but had to be fished from the water themselves when their boat capsized.
Common dangers of the circus included trains wrecks and runaway horses. In the route book for 1892, in Centerville, Iowa, on September 16, a horse and carriage broke loose from its moorings and careened into bystanders. The buggy shaft broke “between Mons. Natalie’s boot-leg and his horse.” He escaped serious injury, unlike five others, including a young boy who was trampled.
The 1902 route book (August 17, Tacoma, Washington) places Mons-Natalie and several others of the troupe in the stateroom train car with the superintendents of the menagerie when the elephant cars and a flat car left the track. There were multilple injuries—a broken ankle, dislocated shoulder, severe bruises, scalp wounds and numerous cuts. Three performers were taken to hospital. One elephant had to be “dosed with whiskey” and pulled out of the ditch with chains. Mons-Natalie’s proximity to the incident and the injuries to his colleagues would, no doubt, have rattled him. But the show must go on, and a few days later Natalie was dining with the minstrel folks in their private car in Whatcom, Washington.
With each new finding, I wanted to know more. I couldn’t stop myself from scrolling through circus annuals and reports. But, as Pandora discovered, curiosity has consequences.
Donna Costa’s short stories appear in Prairie Fire, Queen’s Quarterly, Nurture Literary, and in the anthology Out of the Woods. Her books include YA fiction (Breathing With Trees), a memoir (If I Could Remember: Bears & Brains & Caring For My Mother), and a travelogue (In the Land of Oz). Coming soon, a rom-com novella—When Harry met Charlie. She lives in London, Ontario. www.donnacosta.ca.
Clarification: In Part 2 of My Search for Circus Man, published Aug. 12, a sentence may have incorrectly suggested that William Beilstein married at age 20. The reference to his age was related to the 1881 Census, when William was 20 and was listed as a “painter.” He later married Adeline Eidt in 1894, at age 33. We regret any confusion.
