The day George Sanger's circus rolled into Leeds in 1892

On 28 November 1911, just a few weeks before his 86th birthday, a retired showman died violently at his home in North London. Later a coroner ruled that he was battered to death with a hatchet by one of his employees.

Known to the world as Lord George Sanger, he was one of the biggest names in showbusiness. With family roots in British fairgrounds, Sanger married a lion tamer and became a circus proprietor.

Using previously unpublished archival material, author and journalist Karl Shaw has explored the story behind the brutal murder of Sanger, which shocked Edwardian England. His book The Killing of Lord George delves into the crime, weaving in Sanger’s rise to fame in Britain’s travelling entertainment industry.

“For more than half a century he was Britain’s most popular and most successful entertainer and venerated as a national institution,” Shaw says. “Just as PT Barnum ruled the world of popular entertainment in America, Sanger was the biggest brand in British show business.”

Shaw tells of how Sanger’s circus went on the road every year at the end of February, and for nine months, it roamed the country, covering over 2,000 miles and visiting around 200 towns. Telling how it arrived in Leeds for a series of shows in a 4,000 seater big top on March 25, 1892, Shaw says: “Normal life was suspended when Sanger’s came to town.

“Schoolchildren went missing from classrooms and factories closed for the day. At one o’clock promptly, an hour-and-a-half before the first performance, the grand parade began, a taste of the wonders to come.

“It was led by the band wagon, a vast gilded chariot drawn by thirty piebald horses. On top bandsmen in uniforms of white and gold blew furiously into their brass instruments making a racket that could be heard at least half a mile away. Behind followed the Queen’s tableau, three tiers high surmounted by a throne. On top was perched Britannia in a white-plumed helmet, in her left hand a shield painted with the colours of the Union Jack, in her right a golden trident.

“Next came the red and gold wild beast cages, twenty or more. Walking behind were handlers leading larger animals including zebras, llamas and ostriches, then the mounted cowboy musicians. A line of camels followed, then a herd of elephants, and on their heels 250 historical characters on horseback.

“Finally, bringing up the rear, in a yellow and gold barouche was Lord George Sanger, raising his top hat and soaking up the adulation of the crowd lining the route. The parade was perhaps half-a-mile long and took the best part of half an hour to pass any given point, a panorama of constant interest from end to end.

“Then the show began, lasting about two hours. Anyone who could afford the modest entrance fee was rewarded with a sensory overload of spectacle and skill. The thirteen-metre ring was packed with a galaxy of talent from all over the world, an ever-changing cast of human performers offering breath-taking stunts that required great strength, nerve and skill.

“A strongman caught 50-pound cannonballs fired at him at point blank range. There were hair-raising feats on the high-wire and women and men were stuffed into the mouths of large pieces of artillery and fired through the air.

"In an era when few people ventured beyond the nearest market town, Sanger’s touring circus was a glimpse into another world, an exotic, thrilling place full of strangeness and wild animals, of colour and glitter, music and movement – all for a day or two, and then it was gone, leaving only yellow grass.”

The Killing of Lord George: A Tale of Murder and Deceit in Edwardian England, by Karl Shaw, is out September 1, priced £20.