  Whilst the acrobat was endeavouring to become a man of the world, the man of the world was becoming an excellent acrobat. The “governing classes” determined to have their LÉotard. The gentleman quitted his stall in the circus to ascend the pad and the trapeze. [p308] Lieutenant Viaud—in literature Pierre Loti—was one of the first to achieve this metamorphosis. Those who have read his novels with a little attention will know the high value he places upon human beauty. AzyadÉe particularly, contains whole pages, infinitely curious, a little disquieting, very pagan in their candour, in which [p309] gymnastics are extolled with technical knowledge and lyric warmth. M. Pierre Loti thinks, with the Platonics, that the body should be formed and embellished with as much refinement as the intelligence. Certain of the superiority of his mind, he wished that this cerebral strength should be served by the muscles of an athlete, and worked with indefatigable patience to correct in himself the weakness of nature. And he has really transformed his body by the practice of gymnastics. Now, well set up, although of medium height, he produces an impression of strength and agility. One feels that in him exists that spring of elasticity which raises a body from the soil and wrests it from the laws of gravitation. And indeed, or so it has been said, Pierre Loti joined a troupe of acrobats a few years ago, and appeared as a trapeze “novelty” in a circus in the south of France. The Naval Ministry would have been agitated by this whim.... Is this story true? At all events it is probable, and it proves—and this is all that concerns us—the high esteem which, at the present time, a gentleman can feel for an art which the last generation decidedly ignored too much. The men of taste, even, who clearly perceived the picturesque side of a circus, were not too numerous. The collection of M. Louis is perhaps unique in the world. Paul Ginisty, who has examined these treasures, has related his impressions, with much ability and grace, in the Dieu Bibelot. “Do you know,” he says, “the Montchanin Circus?” [p310] “You do not go into it through a large entrance, you need only knock at the door of a charming little hÔtel. You do not [p311] find in it any of those odours usually noticed in hippique establishments, because it contains neither arena, stables, nor horses. The title of ‘circus’ is simply the familiar name given to the collection of an old amateur, who dwells in a calm quiet street in the Quartier de Villiers, and who has really a passion for everything relating to equestrian exhibitions. No one possesses as many traditions of circus art as he does. He has not only known all those who for thirty or thirty-five years have distinguished themselves in the arena; but he has also lived with every dynasty of ring-masters, Hercules and jugglers of the past. In fact, he has surrounded himself with an infinitely curious collection of prints and documents of all ages referring to the circus. It includes portraits of all the masters, specimens of costumes, placards, programmes, and advertisements of ‘phenomena.’ “Some of these prints, drawings by Carle Vernet, engravings of Grimaldi and Debucourt, are artistically interesting; others are simply typical. There is not one corner of the hÔtel without some of these pleasing designs.” Another lover of the circus, no longer content with collecting portfolios full of beautiful equestrian placards, determined to quietly live the healthy existence of a circus performer for his own amusement. When first the public read in the paragraphs of the society papers that SeÑor Molieros had built a circus, in his private house, in which he was ring-master, and trained horses for the haute École and other performances, people said: “It is simply a whim of a Spanish grandee.” The truth is that SeÑor Molieros is really named Ernest Molier, that he is a Manceau, and that possessing a large [p312] fortune, he prefers spending it upon horses that he loves, rather than with gamblers, who bore him. Not every one who asked for admittance to the small hÔtel [p313] in the Rue de Boulogne obtained it. Molier’s intrepidity led him to prefer vicious horses, and difficulties only increased his eagerness to conquer them. “He was never happier than when some dangerous animal that no one had hitherto ventured to mount, would obey his eyes and his lightest touch. Like Anthony he would have rather killed the horse than allowed him to disobey!”14 Ernest Molier has often told me that he did not learn his profession from books. You have seen too in the perusal of these monographs, that the science of the circus is entirely traditional. But you would never guess with how much suspicious jealousy the banquiste defends the guardianship of his secrets. I have learnt by experience how unwillingly he confides even a few items of his knowledge to a writer, who can never be a rival; and from this I can imagine how much he would distrust a horseman. Only Molier’s integrity and military frankness enabled him to overcome this dislike. Besides, Molier has the circus genius, and a man of genius can dispense with masters. In the Rue Blanche his stable overcrowded him. Air and space were both lacking. In 1879 he therefore transported his luggage and caravan to Rue Benouville, at the gate of the Bois. A house, fencing hall and stables sprang from the soil as though built by magic. The riding-school was ornamented with the decorations of the fÊte of the Paris-Murcie and was converted into a regular circus. A few boxes were added for the use of privileged spectators; no one then foresaw the wonderful success obtained by the meetings in the Rue de [p314] Benouville; the preparations were only made for the reception of friends. They came in crowds to visit the hospitable mansion. The fencing hall was opened to them; they fenced, vaulted, practised with the dumb-bells and mounted the trapeze. But Molier, faithful to his passion, devoted himself to his horses. He trained Arlequin, a dappled grey Russian horse, in the [p315] arts of the haute École, which consist in performing the Spanish walk and trot, in galloping, cantering, changing feet, balancing on the fore legs, as well as on the hind quarters;15 “and also Blondin, a superb Norman chestnut, with a light mane and [p316] tail, a horse trained in the haute École almost in the same style as Arlequin.” Molier also trained equestrians for the pad and the haute École. His first pupil was the pretty Mademoiselle de TrÈves. [p317] He placed her on a horse, and made her an exceptionally good rider, capable of riding standing, on a bare-backed horse and of leaping over barriers, in the best style of the haute École. Then followed Mademoiselle Irma Viollat, one of the ornaments of the corps de ballet. The master taught her to repeat on horseback all the dances that she excelled in upon the stage. Insensibly a crowd of amateurs had gathered round Molier; and they formed a complete company. At last Molier one day yielded to the entreaties of his comrades and consented to give a performance in his circus. [p318] It was quite understood that it was to be a private entertainment. [p319] All Paris tried to get in. Artists and society people broke open the doors. [p320] They left the circus in great astonishment, and loudly proclaimed their admiration. Of course, the newspapers were full of it. The people who had been left out were very severe. They declared it was a scandal. Noblemen playing at acrobatics were an easy subject for abuse. “What do you say? Messrs. Hubert de la Rochefoucauld, Martel, de Saint-Aldegonde, de Maulde, de Visocq, de Sainte-Marie, Courtay, d’Arquevilliers and de Pully had appeared in spangled tights?” They recalled the Romans during the decadence, and M. Prudhomme crossed his arms upon his breast in the attitude of the philosopher of Couture. Since then, men have realized that these acrobatic amusements were only the artistic form, the blast of trumpets preceding the vanguard of the revolution, which has just ended in the formation of the Society of Physical Education. Molier and his friends, who, with legitimate pride, remember that on one occasion they presented the Duchesse d’UzÈs with 50,000 francs for the benefit of the Hospital for Incurables, claim, with some reason, a share in influencing this national movement. They certainly rendered bodily exercises fashionable once more, and this is a great deal in a country where routine is the only queen that has never been dethroned. Moreover the warm applause which greeted the tirade of the Brettigny in the RÉvoltÉe last winter, proved to the acrobats of the Cirque Molier that they had won their cause in the opinion of the public. M. ERNEST MOLIER. You may remember the indignant tirade in which the gentleman acrobat defends his favourite amusement against the witticisms of Madame Herbeau: [p321] “What do you want a man of our class to do at the present time? Politics are prohibited. They are monopolized by other buffoons, whose exercises are much more dangerous for the spectators and not so amusing. The army? Well, it is a refuge for those who have courage, and I have belonged [p322] to it. But there was too little to do in time of peace. Literature? I should not know how to begin, and I dare own that I would not deign to adopt it. Naturalism is too dull, and dilettantism too sterile. I find it better to enjoy life than to write about it. You say that I degrade my race? Nay, I revive it. You know the language used by the rhetors and journalists in describing the corrupt scions of the old aristocracy. Well, we will regenerate this corrupt youth! We are strong, our muscles are like those of the street porters, of our ancestors the Frank warriors, of the companions of Charlemagne, who were only superb brutes.”16 Molier and his friends have triumphed without noise, just as they resisted the ill-humour of foolish grumblers without bluster. During the last ten years this clever troupe of amateurs has wonderfully increased. It now includes two new star equestrians—Mademoiselle Blanche Lamidey and Miss Anna. You have probably seen Mazeppa performed in a circus, at least once in your life, but, since Miss Ada Menken, you have never seen a very young girl, thrown on her back, held by one foot only, her loosened hair dragging in the sand, and in this dangerous position leaping with her galloping horse an arrangement of several barriers. Nor since Jenny O’Brien left us for America have we ever seen a woman ride standing upon two horses with as much dainty jauntiness, self-possession and audacity as Miss Anna. And then how well she dresses! Lovers of Florentine bronzes will never forget a certain suit of grey tights, a harlequin’s [p324] costume, cut low and heart shaped at the neck, with greaves of the same grey tint below the knees. Molier has grouped a number of pretty women, actresses, [p325] artists, and young men of the world round these two charming girls. Amongst the ladies are Mesdemoiselles Lavigne and Desoder from the Palais Royal, Mademoiselle Felicia Mallet, Mademoiselle RenÉe Maupin, from the Opera, Jeanne Becker, LÉa d’Asco, etc.;—amongst the men: Messrs. FrÉdÉric Vavasseur, Jules Ravaut, Arthus, Gerbaut, Adrien Marie, Craffty, Goubie, Pantelli, J. Lewis-Brown. I must apologize to those whom I forget to name. With these resources the performance of a pantomime was easily arranged, and these spectacles are one of the chief [p326] attractions of the entertainments given in the Rue Benouville. It was here that FÉlicien Champsaur made the first trial of contemporary pantomime by which he amuses us without introducing the form of Pierrot or the bat of Harlequin. “Why,” he reflected, “should we show the fashionable people who annually fill the boxes of the Molier, some old fairy story remounted in a new form? Men of the present day with money and audacity accomplish greater prodigies than the magicians of old.” [p327] M. Champsaur resolved to show us his contemporaries at work—and this is the plot of his pantomime— The charming Mademoiselle Rivolta, from the Eden, appeared disguised as a little Spring looking for her course. No one had thought of using her to fill a lake, rush down a waterfall or turn a mill. She therefore wandered about the Cirque Molier, shedding floods of tears. Good Luck, who never likes to see pretty girls cry, led two speculators in the same direction. They remark to each other:— “Look! here’s a little Spring! And there’s no casino on the bank!” “No race game!” “No gambling house!” “Cannot this little Spring cure some illness?” “If not, she is the only one of her kind!” To satisfy themselves on this point they then take Mademoiselle Rivolta’s hand, lead her to the house of Madame Dezoder, a lady doctor in the same neighbourhood, and knock at the door. Armed with a goblet, Madame Dezoder tastes Mademoiselle Rivolta. After carefully testing her, her gesture says “Pooh!” “What does that matter?” replied the bankers. “We will bottle Mademoiselle Rivolta and, with a good label, she will cure as well as her companions.” No sooner said than it was done. And since a godmother was required for the new Spring launched upon the world, the bankers fetch Fortune, Mademoiselle RenÉe Maupin, from the Opera! [p328] Ah! what a delightful person! I always liked Fortune instinctively, before I knew her; but since I have seen her feet, figure, and eyes!..... “You shall cure everything!” Fortune assured the Spring. They placed the bottle in the doctor’s house and in it Mademoiselle Rivolta, who looked like a saint in her shrine. Then the procession of those wounded by Life (EreintÉs de la Vie)—this is the title of the pantomime—commences. [p329] They are all invalided by love: first, a number of pretty girls who have flirted too much; then all the gentlemen who have been wounded by these flirtations. Love himself comes to the Spring. He is very ill. His poor little wings hang down his back in a lamentable way. “Douche him! Douche him!” The child is dipped in the water and is drawn out transformed into a Farnese Hercules, with enormous muscles which stand out in huge rolls upon his arms from the shoulder to the elbow. The entertainment closes by a procession accompanied by a blast of trumpets, at the end of which appears the Golden Calf, led by Fortune with a leash. I have quoted this pantomime by M. Champsaur in preference to others of more recent date which have been equally successful, because it clearly indicates the nature of the entertainment given in the Cirque Molier. People see and perform in the Rue Benouville pieces that could not be played or shown elsewhere; for here the audience and the actors are all people of the same education, the same surroundings, who know each other. The doors have been more widely opened than they formerly were. But they are still closely guarded, the members of the society intend to amuse themselves as they please in their own circle, and to exclude anything that offends them. For instance, you will not find either at the rehearsals or at the performances in the Rue Benouville in the boxes or behind the scenes, the shadow of a professional actor. [p330] The door is closed against theatrical men. What! even “Chose” and “Machin?” [p331] Even for them. The “cross” and the banner are both useless. Monsieur le SociÉtaire has vainly tried to force a door which is half open for the banquistes..... A voice has cried to him from the trapeze, “We are very sorry, sir! But we have retained the prejudices of the comedians.” |
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