the history of itinerant glassworkers

Category: Context

Iron-jawed angels: Circus suffragists and the fight for the vote

On Sunday, March 31, 1912, a group of women gathered in the animal menagerie at Madison Square Garden to inaugurate a new group: Barnum & Bailey’s Circus Women’s Equal Rights Society. These circus suffragists – among them aerialists, equestriennes, strongwomen, and tightrope walkers – had joined the fight for the vote. At the meeting, well-known bareback rider Josephine DeMott Robinson reminded attendees, “You earn salaries. Some of you have property. You have a right to say what shall be done with it. You want to establish clearly in the mind of your husband that you are his equal. You are not above him, but his equal.”1

She and her fellow performers – most of whom were white – were uniquely positioned to spread the message of suffrage as they traveled throughout the United States engaging with audiences.2 They joined petition drives, handed out suffrage literature, and Robinson was even known to ride her horse at rallies.

photograph of Josephine DeMott Robinson riding her horse

Josephine DeMott Robinson at her riding school, showing some of her pupils how to vault a horse while in motion. Source: Narratively (Thomas Y. Crowell Company Publishers)

Suffragists celebrated women circus performers. Movement leader Inez Milholland stated that they “exemplify one phase of the ability of women to earn their own living.” Elizabeth Cook agreed: “There is no class of women who show better that they have a right to vote than the circus women, who twice a day prove that they have the courage and endurance of men.”3 But when it came to supporting the new society, Milholland was a little more hesitant. She had promised to attend the event, but did not show up. Instead, Beatrice Jones from the Woman’s Political Equality Union joined the group as they celebrated by christening a baby giraffe at the menagerie “Miss Suffrage.”

The press got wind of the event and were gleefully condescending in their coverage. Jones, according to a New York Times reporter, was surrounded by “women and girls, modishly and sedately gowned, so that you would never dream it was their daily lot to bound about, blithe and bespangled.” And Miss Suffrage? By the end of the evening, the giraffe – not “previously being consulted” about its new name – “couldn’t abide even the sight of a suffragette.”4 The New York Tribune joked that the lions “moved uneasily about their cages” and the hyenas “grinned and grinned.”5 A writer for the Sacramento Union reported that “Alexander Sebert, husband of Lillian Sebert, a bareback rider, projected himself into the meeting, took his wife and her sister, Jennie Byram, and hustled them out of the menagerie room … Sebert shouted that he didn’t intend to let his wife take part in such nonsense.”6

lithograph of women trapeze artists performing at circus

Female acrobats on trapezes at circus, 1890. Source: Wikimedia Commons (Library of Congress [Public domain])

But women circus performers were not daunted by this commentary. They were used to it: their profession put them in a radical position, and they had to strike a delicate balance between their roles as showwomen and the public’s demand for respectable entertainment. Although they wore leotards and demonstrated acts of strength and power in the ring, performers and promoters portrayed them as proper, domestic women, more concerned about cooking their husbands dinners than their acts. The fact that the majority of women circus performers were white (at least those under the big top) also helped to shape their image as respectable, middle-class citizens.

Rossa Matilda Richter, who performed as Zazel, the first human cannonball, was an expert at the tightrope, trapeze, and high dive. But off the stage, Richter spoke to reporters about her fellow showwomen and their commitment to traditional gender roles, “complete with tales of women commandeering the railroad dining car to bake a cake.”7 Richter stated, “The domestic instinct is very strong among circus women, for the reason that they are deprived of home life a great part of every year.”8 Circuses had strict rules for women performers and emphasized the presence of male family members, which helped assuage any suspicions of the public. However, writes historian Janet M. Davis, “they also unintentionally eclipsed the larger historical significance of the female big top performer as a durable champion of women’s rights.”9 They hid their radical performances behind high-necked dresses and freshly-baked cookies.

Photograph of Zazel the human cannonball

Rossa Matilda Richter, also known as Zazel, the first human cannonball performer when she was 14, 1887. Source: Wikimedia Commons (London Stereoscopic Co.[Public domain])

While Richter put forward her domestic ideals, English acrobat Josephine Mathews advanced a different narrative. She performed as “Evetta, the Lady Clown” and embraced “all of the new woman’s fads,” including bicycling and swinging Indian clubs.” Mathews boldly stated, “I believe that a woman can do anything for a living that a man can do, and I do it just as well as a man.”10 Both Richter and Mathews’ public personas were likely shaped by circus press agents, showing the contradictory ways women in the circus were depicted.

poster of Evetta lady clown

The Strobridge Lithographing Company Barnum & Bailey: Evetta the Only Lady Clown, 1895. Source: Circus Now [Public domain]

Katherine Brumbach, a strongwoman who performed under the name Katie Sandwina, was at Madison Square Garden as an inaugural member of the Barnum & Bailey’s Circus Women’s Equal Rights Society. At five feet nine inches tall and 210 pounds with a muscular frame, she did not fit the physical standards for feminine beauty at the time. But doctors declared her the “perfect female specimen” and others described her as “beautiful and feminine.”11 She earned up to $1,500 a week, which amounts to roughly $40,000 in today’s money. As part of her routine, she regularly lifted her husband, Max Heymann, above her head. Brumbach’s appearance, abilities, and the fact that she earned a wage were at odds with the ideal woman.

photograph of circus strongwoman Katie Sandwina holding three men in the air

Katie Sandwina, “The Lady Hercules”. Source: Wikimedia Commons (Bain News Service [Public domain])

Reporter Marguerite Martyn emphasized Brumbach’s divergent qualities in a 1911 article for the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, writing, “At the moment she was twirling her husband about in dizzy circles above her head … Carelessly, laughingly, she tosses her husband about as though he were not flesh and bone, but merely an effigy of inflated rubber. And he is no insignificant husband, either.” No “normal” woman would be able to lift and twirl her husband, especially with such ease. (Although some might like to, including the woman Martyn overheard exclaiming, “Gee! Wouldn’t I love to be able to bat a man around like that!”)12

In an accompanying illustration, Brumbach appears as large as a giant, holding the very properly-dressed and diminutive Martyn in one hand while preening for the crowd in a form-fitting leotard. In the next panel she has returned to more normal womanly activities, standing over a stove cooking dinner for her husband and son. “There are enough duties in her own home for any woman if she would make her family healthy and strong and wise,” Brumbach told Martyn. “I think I should be content to devote all my strength to my household.”13

black and white line drawing of Katie Sandwina

Imaginative sketch by Marguerite Martyn of strongwoman Katie Sandwina, 1911. Source: Wikimedia Commons (Marguerite Martyn [Public domain])

Whatever her feelings about housework and home life (or those she expressed as a part of her public persona), Brumbach was an eager participant in the fight for the vote. She became the vice president of the Barnum & Bailey’s Circus Women’s Equal Rights Society, joining Robinson, equestrienne May Wirth, wire-walker Victoria Codona, bareback rider Victoria Davenport, and many others in committing herself to the cause.

While it is unclear how long the society lasted or how much of an impact their actions had on the suffrage movement, Robinson, Brumbach, and their fellow performers arguably made their most convincing case under the big top. Their costumes, skills, and ability to outearn many male circus performers proved to those who watched their shows that women were capable of being more than just angels at home; they were iron-jawed Amazons worthy of the vote.

A version of this post was originally published on the Re/Visionist on December 16, 2019.


The case of the glass eye smuggler

And now for something completely different! Context posts are related to itinerant glassworkers in some – often tangential – way. Like a story about glass eye smuggling, a profile of a circus performer, or a post about the 19th-century roller rink craze.

In October 1911, United States customs agents arrested Bruno Schulze, a rather ordinary-looking business man, for smuggling 15,000 glass prosthetic eyes into the country. Over the next 12 months, the bizarre case of Schulze’s smuggling empire unfolded before a fascinated public.

Why would Schulze illegally import glass eyes? Lampworkers have been using glass to create prosthetic eyes since the 16th century. The material is durable, relatively comfortable, and, when shaped by an expert (called an ocularist), the resulting prosthetic is very realistic.1 German ocularists developed a special formula for glass that produced high-quality products, and their skills in making eyes were unmatched. So while ocularists created prosthetics in the United States, German-made eyes were more desirable. Schulze wanted to sell the best products, but wasn’t interested in paying the 60% duty charged by the U.S. government.2 So he hatched a plan to secretly bring the eyes into the country and spent more than a decade profiting from his scheme. Until customs agents caught on . . .

The “king” of glass eye smugglers

Black and white photo of Bruno “von Schoenewitz" and his signature

Bruno “von Schoenewitz,” 1909 and 1915 US passport applications. Source: Ancestry.com.

Name: Bruno C. L. Schulze
Alias: Baron von Schoenewitz (or the longer “Bruno Von Schoenowitz Freiherr Von Ungarswerth und Adlersloewen“)
Age: 43
Height: 5’7”
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Blond
Crime: Smuggling German-made glass eyes into the United States

Before the arrest

Customs officials had tracked Schulze for months, trying to pin him down. He’d been importing glass eyes for more than a decade, supplying ocularists around the United States. Some said he had a monopoly on the trade. Schulze was suspected of evading the 60% duty charged on foreign-made glass eyes. By doing so, he undersold other dealers and put many small firms out of business. Officials had finally gathered enough evidence to arrest him, thanks to a report from special Treasury agents who tailed Schulze in Europe while he bought 15,000 new glass eyes to sell on the American market. All that was left to do was find him . . .

Shallow box filled with glass prosthetic eyes

107 Glass Eyes with Box, Leopold Blaschka, possibly 1850-1887. Collection of The Corning Museum of Glass, 93.3.73.

October 30, 1911

Bruno Schulze was arrested as “Baron von Schoenewitz” upon his arrival in New York City on the steamship New Amsterdam of the Holland-American line. He was charged with smuggling 15,000 glass eyes into the United States.

November 3, 1911

newspaper clipping

The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, November 5, 1911.

Customs agents raided Schulze’s Hoboken, N.J., “factory” (a front for his smuggling business) and found 14,000 glass eyes, foreign bills of sale, and other paperwork they could use to prove his guilt.3 Philip Stroh, a local printer, was arrested on a charge of conspiracy. He was suspected of being Schulze’s fence (or middleman). Agents arrived at his office too late to seize the documents they were looking for, instead finding the “office stove burning brightly with papers.”

November 4, 1911

Schulze and Stroh were both released on $5,000 cash bails.4

newspaper clipping

The New York Sun, November 5, 1911.

November 5, 1911

New York and Washington, D.C., newspapers picked up the story, calling Schulze the “king” of glass eye smugglers. They described him as a “Handsome and Distinguished Looking” gentleman with a high forehead; blond, curly hair; mustache, and “superconfident eyes of blue.”5 He was not what came to mind when they thought of a smuggler. Customs agents had a different opinion. They told the New York Sun that Schulze had been in trouble with them before, and described him as having a “defiant air and bulldozing and unusually egotistical manner.”

November 18, 1911

The National Glass Budget wrote that Schulze was awaiting trial before United States Commissioner Edward Russ at Hoboken. Agents reported that Schulze used employees of German steamers to secretly transport the eyes on and off the ships.6

Detail of Preis-Liste über Emaille-Augen mit schwarzer Pupille, L. W. Schaufuss, 1866. Collection of the Rakow Research Library, The Corning Museum of Glass, CMGL 54006.

November 30, 1911

The story of Schulze’s arrest and the raid was reported around the nation. A reporter for the St. Paul Journal joked: “with all his eyes [Schulze] couldn’t elude the vigilance of the customs sleuths.”

December 3, 1911

newspaper clipping

Trenton (NJ) Evening Times, December 5, 1911.

Newspapers reported that customs special agent George P. Locke seized 600 glass eyes from the offices of St. Paul, M.N., optician W. H. Kindy.7 Kindy was not arrested, having purchased the eyes from Schulze without knowing of his criminal actions. Agents now estimated that Schulze smuggled 100,000 eyes into the country over the past 11 years, a $700,000 value. That meant Schulze owed the U.S. government about $420,000 in duties (roughly $10.5 million in today’s dollars).

January 5, 1912

newspaper clipping

The New York Sun, January 5, 1912.

Schulze’s problems were compounded when a customs inspector arrested him again, this time for importing glass animal eyes for less than half of their true value. Schulze’s bail was set at $10,000, which he was unable to pay. He was transported to the Tombs.8

February 17, 1912

Schulze was convicted on two counts for smuggling the shipment of 15,000 eyes into the United States. Prosecutor Mark P. Anderson believed Schulze would “get about all that the law allows.” The maximum sentence was four years with a fine of $10,000. Schulze’s associate, printer Philip Stroh, was reported to have supplied Schulze with “letterheads of a fictitious German manufacturer,” which he then used to get “false consular invoices” that undervalued the imported eyes.9

newspaper clipping

The New York Sun, February 19, 1912.

May 8, 1912

newspaper clipping

The New York Sun, May 9, 1912.

13,961 of the glass eyes seized in the raids were sold at a public auction in the Jersey City post office. According to the official announcement, only one eye in the lot was damaged. The Sun reported that the eyes “were packed in crates like strictly fresh eggs.”10 Two bidders split the lot, paying about 24 cents apiece. Buried at the end of the article was the news that Schulze was somehow able to escape and was at large.

June 4, 1912

The United States District Attorney’s office in Chicago filed United States vs. 2,659 glass eyes against the Geneva Optical Company for knowingly purchasing smuggled eyes from Schulze. The value of the glass eyes was set at $569. If the company could not successfully defend themselves, the eyes would be sold at public auction by the United States Marshal.

box with components showing how glass prosthetic eyes are made

Case of Glass Eyes, Tamworth Associates and F. and S. Danz, 1929-1940. Collection of The Corning Museum of Glass, 52.4.58.

October 4, 1912

newspaper clipping

The Montgomery (AL) Times, October 4, 1912.

Newspapers reported that the judge in the United States vs. 2,659 glass eyes case ordered the United States Marshals to auction off the eyes at a public sale.11

October 16, 1912

Bidder J. W. Sturtevant picked up all 2,659 glass eyes unopposed at the public auction. He paid the bargain price of $455. The Inter Ocean added some color, describing the eyes as “perfect blues, browns, grays, and blacks, and others with a blend of colors that never fail to attract.” From United States Marshal chief deputy John P. Wolf: “Are they not beautiful?”12

newspaper clipping

The Chicago Inter Ocean, October 17, 1912.

The end?

It is unclear what happened to Schulze, or whether he continued his criminal activities. In 1915, he used his alias to apply for a passport. His residence was listed as Philadelphia, P.A., and his occupation as merchant. After that, the trail dries up. Schulze/Schoenowitz fades from view.

glass prosthetic eye

Glass Eye, Leopold Blaschka, possibly 1850-1887. Collection of The Corning Museum of Glass, 93.3.73-24


So what do prosthetic eyes have to do with itinerant glassworkers? Several early glassworkers included glass eyes in their list of products. One such artisan not only made eyes of such quality “that they cannot be discerned from the Natural Eyes,” but also “he teacheth how [customers] may fix them in their Heads themselves, to the great Satisfaction of all persons that make use of them.”13 Spectacular!


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