One of the great features of all travelling tent-shows and, indeed, in the long years a very prominent feature of the legitimate show when juggling, tumbling and things of that kind were either interspersed between the acts of a tragedy, or filled the intermission between the tragedy and farce, was the acrobatic artist, the athlete, the gymnast, or whatever else you may feel like calling him. At the beginning of this century there were several renowned acrobats, and the number has increased to such an extent—and the general desire for exhibitions of physical skill—that acrobatics have taken possession of many fields. The song and dance man aims to introduce as much as possible of it into his act or sketch, and even the equestrian and equestrienne attempts and succeeds in combining perilous somersaulting with skilful riding, and the nearer the performer goes towards breaking his neck the better the people seem to like it.
The athlete who displayed his prowess or skill in the arenas of ancient Rome or Athens was a much more important personage than the circus performer of to-day. It was the passionate love of manly sports which produced the matchless Greek form, the acme of physical perfection. The successful athlete, acrobat, or charioteer of two thousand years ago was a popular hero, and his triumphs, loves, and career were immortalized in poetry and song. A successful athlete was then of more importance than the congressman of to-day. And yet the modern athlete, while occupying a much lower social scale than the ancient practitioner, is just as strong, and the acrobat of to-day is even more skilful than his classic predecessor. The circus performer thinks nothing of executing feats which no later than a century ago were deemed impossible.
Nearly every man and boy who appears in the circus arena now-a-days is counted a member of the corps that does both grand and lofty tumbling. In small shows the corps of leapers and tumblers is increased by the addition of several dummies who can do little more than turn a hand-spring or a forward somersault either on the sawdust or from the spring-board. Many of the best acrobats have begun their studies in the open streets by walking on their hands or hammering their heels against the bare bricks in somersaults or hand-springs; others have been educated in the ring following their fathers and sometimes grandfathers into the arenic profession. From the ranks of these two classes some of the best acrobats and athletes have sprung. I can recall several very good leapers and tumblers, whose earliest efforts were witnessed and wondered at in some vacant lot or friendly stable yard—where spring-boards were improvised and feats as dangerous as "revolving twice in the air without alighting on their feet"—as the ring master usually announces this act, in his most grandiloquent style—were attempted at the peril of young and frail necks. So too with many horizontal bar and trapeze performers. But to come back to the leapers and tumblers. The band gives a flourish and in they troop for the "ground act." They form in a row, and bow to the audience and then away each one whirls in a hand-spring and front somersault. Then they retire and singly, the men begin to tumble backward and forward across and about the ring, heads and feet are kept in a whirl until the final effort is reached, when the clown, who is frequently as good an artist in the business as the rest of his tumbling confreres, chases the swiftest of the number around the ring, the clown winding him up while the latter rolls like a wheel, in back hand-springs along the inner edge of the ring. A short interval, and the leapers come in,—the same men as those who have done the tumbling,—bow, and retire to follow each other rapidly down an inclined plane, bound from the spring-board, and after a forward somersault land safely and gracefully in the soft mattress beyond. One, two, three, four, and five horses are brought in and placed in front of the spring-board while the mattress is drawn farther away. As the number of horses increases and the peril and distance grow greater, the number of leapers decrease till at last three appear, or perhaps more horses are added to the equine line, the mattress is placed at the farther end of the ring and the ring-master—sometimes it is a lecturer like Harry Evarts, the "little Grant orator," of Coup's show for the past and present season—mounts a pedestal near the entrance, and with stentorian voice remarks: "Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Batchellor, the champion leaper of the world, will now throw a double somersault over nineteen horses [sometimes fewer elephants are employed]—that is to say, the gentleman will revolve twice in the air before alighting on his feet on the mattress—a feat that no other performer in this or any other country can accomplish. Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Batchellor," and Mr. Batchellor, who is an excellent leaper, and shares the championship with Frank Gardner, formerly of Cole's show, but now with Barnum, makes the leap in a clever and comparatively easy manner.
This difficult feat, never executed, it is asserted, till within the past one hundred years, can now be witnessed at almost every first-class circus performance in this country—but not always for the same distance attained by Messrs. Batchellor and Gardner. Forty years ago the British performer who could throw a double somersault was looked on as a wonder. The writer, some thirty-three years ago, saw Tomkinson, a famous British clown and acrobat, execute this feat in Franconi's circus, then stationed for the season at Edinburg, Scotland. It was the same Franconi who afterward managed the hippodrome in New York in 1863–4, and the company was booked as first-class in every respect. The double somersault was performed by Tomkinson at his benefit, and the announcement of the then great feat packed the wooden building to suffocation. When the ring-master had made the preliminary speech, and Tomkinson retired up the steep incline which terminated in the spring-board, every heart stood still. A quick, impetuous rush down the board, a bound high in the air, a slow revolution and the gymnast descended nearly to the ground. It seemed impossible to do it, but in the last six feet the curled up body turned once more, and Tomkinson alighted on the big, soft mattress on his feet, but staggering. He was prevented from falling by the ring-master, and as he turned to go inside, Franconi, the enthusiastic French manager, patted him warmly on the back, amid the applause of the vast audience. It was a rare feat in those days. Tomkinson and the few other British double somersault performers did it only at infrequent intervals.
In this country Costella, a noted circus leaper, made it more difficult by clearing a number of horses at the same time. But soon a number of acrobats were able to follow his example, and even excel him in height and distance. Nowadays a circus acrobat who cannot do a double somersault is not considered anything but an ordinary performer unless he can do other sensational and original feats. Last year Barnum had a corps of acrobats, of whom seven performed double somersaults every night during the season. John Robinson has five men who can do it. The most surprising and unexcelled feat of double somersault throwing was that of the Garnella Brothers, who performed it in variety halls and circuses a few years ago. Standing on his brother's shoulders the younger Garnella sprang up and revolved twice, landing again on the shoulders. When it is considered that the double somersault by other performers is accomplished by a short spurt, a spring-board, and no restriction as to the spot of alighting, the feat of young Garnella must be classed among the unprecedented marvels of the acrobatic art.
The triple somersault is a dream of every young and ambitious acrobat. It requires phenomenal dexterity of body, and is known to be so dangerous that few have even attempted it. Fame and fortune awaits any performer who can do it, say twenty times in one tenting season. Were it not that circus managers know that the feat, or even the attempt, if repeated a limited number of times, will certainly result in a broken neck, they could well afford to pay the performer $10,000 to $20,000 for a season; and were it not, too, a proven fact, it would seem that the laws of gravitation and the limitations of physical dexterity forbade the turning of a triple somersault except by accident. In turning a double somersault off a spring-board, it is necessary to make a leap at an angle of about thirty degrees to obtain the necessary "ballast" or impetus to turn twice. If an almost perpendicular leap is made, the leaper would not have leverage enough to turn. In order to make the double somersault the performer has to leap from the spring-board with all his might to get the proper angle as well as to attain a sufficient height, so that he may have time to turn twice over before alighting. The same conditions govern the triple somersault, only it is necessary to go about one-third higher into the air. An American named Turner accomplished a triple somersault once in this country and again in England. He tried it a third time and broke his neck. It is claimed that with this exception and the exception of Bob Stickney, of John Robinson's show, and Sam Reinhardt, an ex-leaper, no acrobat has been successful. The skeptic may say triple somersaults may be accomplished by the aid of higher and more powerful spring-boards than those in use, but that would merely change the angle, and the result would be the same. Of course the board could be placed high enough, but the specific gravity of the performer's body would be increased while descending. The height is not the only trouble. If it was only height, such men as Stickney, Batchellor, Gardner and one or two others, by improved appliances and practice would overcome that difficulty. But after the double somersault is accomplished and the performer is ready to turn again, he "loses his catch" or the control of his body, and is governed in his descent by gravitation alone. His head being heavier than his feet, he is very apt to light on it first and break his neck.
The first recorded attempt to throw a triple somersault in this country was made by a performer in Van Amburgh's circus at Mobile, Alabama, in 1842. He broke his neck. Another attempt was made in London, England, in 1846. It was made in Astley's amphitheatre, then leased to Howe & Cushing, the American managers. In this company was M.J. Lipman, a fine vaulter, Levi J. North, now in Brooklyn, New York, a famous equestrian; the late William O. Dale, a native of Cincinnati, who died here, blind and broken down, and who was an acrobat and equestrian of great reputation, and Wm. J. Hobbes, a fine leaper. It was previously announced that Hobbes would attempt a triple somersault, and the house was jammed. He tried it, and was instantly killed. The next to try it was John Amor, who was born under the roof of Dan Rice's father's domicile, near Girard, Pennsylvania. Amor travelled for years in this country with Dan Rice's circus, and in that day was considered the greatest gymnast in America, if not in the world. He is said to be the first performer in America to turn a double somersault over four horses. In 1859 he went to England and travelled with a circus all through the united kingdom. In the same year he attempted to turn a triple somersault at the Isle of Wight, but landed on his forehead and broke his neck.
Billy Dutton, it is said, performed the great feat while a member of Lake's circus, at Elkhorn, Illinois, in 1860, at a rehearsal, in the presence of John Lawton, the famous clown, now with Robinson's circus. Dutton was ambitious to have it to say he did it, and did not make the attempt with the intention of repeating it. He made the leap from a high spring-board. Dutton said then he would not try it again, and that his lighting upon his feet was an accident, as he could not control his body after turning the second time. Frank Starks, who was well known in Cincinnati, undertook the feat at the fair grounds in Indianapolis in 1870, for a wager of $100. In the first attempt he turned three times, but alighted in a sitting posture. Every one was satisfied with the result, and the money was tendered him. He proudly refused it, saying he would repeat it, and light upon his feet before he felt sufficiently justified in taking the $100. He did repeat it, but struck on his head, dislocating his neck, and death resulted a few hours afterward. Bob Stickney accomplished the great feat when fourteen years of age, while practising in a gymnasium on Fourteenth Street, New York. William Stein, an attache of Robinson's circus, was one of the persons who held the blanket for him to alight upon. Stickney says he believes he could do it again, but would not attempt it for less than $10,000, being fully convinced that the chances for his final exit from the arena would be good on that occasion. Sam Reinhardt, a former leaper, now a saloon-keeper at Columbus, when with the Cooper & Bailey Circus at Toledo, in 1860, not being satisfied with turning double somersaults, tried to add another revolution. He turned twice and a half, alighting on the broad of his back, and was disabled for a short period. The fact that a triple somersault was ever accomplished before a circus audience, after due announcement, and under the same conditions as double somersaults are performed—namely, landing on a mattress—may be seriously doubted. The best informed circus men say that it cannot be done with anything even like comparative safety except in the sheets, a blanket held by a number of men being used to catch the alighting performer. It is claimed, also, that it has never been accomplished except in that way.
BICYCLE RIDING EXTRAORDINARY.
