The circus came to town and left it in such disarray. But, you see, it was stupendous, colossal, exciting, with three rings and death-defying stunts, bearded ladies and giant rats from the sewers of Paris. It was unbelievable, just as the barkers excitedly told us. Rubes came in droves. Parents couldn’t keep their children away, neither children their parents or grandparents. They just kept coming. Seemed almost everyone went to the Big Top. Such spectacle!

But this circus was not provided by some sentimental benefactor of kindness, or any love for children and families. An enemy sent this circus. For when the sun rose on the other side of the last show, after the great tents were folded, after lions and tamers and elephants left, after jugglers, ringmasters, clowns and so many others picked up and moved on in the night, the abandoned grounds were silent.  

The grounds were littered with circus posters and handbills, as containers of trash overflowed. There were American flags, Confederate flags and red hats strewn across muddy grounds with a quiet, lingering stench. Rats scurried about unhindered.

The three-ring circus was stupendous, colossal, exciting. But the town was left much worse off. They felt betrayed, with a nagging, emerging awareness of being divided, of being defenseless. The people felt used and bankrupt. This was the condition before the neighboring army rolled into this town.