Mademoiselle Piccinelli added to a charming presence “a voice of great

range and flexibility, of a silvery and pleasant timbre. She was able to

please French ears. With this gift she combined that of playing comedy

with great nobility.”

Mademoiselle Collet made her début on the 21st January 1721, in _La Fille

Mal Gardée_.

“Her infantile performances obtained her the applause of

the public, which was redoubled when she was seen in the

rôle of Betzi in _Le Roi et le Fermier_. These are about the

only characters in which she achieved distinction. Her voice

was poor, and she replaced by mannerisms what she lacked in

expression.”

In 1762, Signorina Colomba, a Venetian, successfully made her début at

the Comédie-Italienne in Paris. An Englishman fell in love with her and

attempted to carry her off. She left the theatre to escape from him, and

did not return to it until 1772.

“Her début was of the most brilliant,” says Grimm in his

correspondence. “She is no longer in her first youth; at least

she has the air of being about thirty years of age. Her only

fault is that she is invested with too much nobility and too

much beauty for the rôles of comic opera; her carriage, her

walk, her air, are those of a queen. Her glance is august,

noble and tender; her great eyes, the most beautiful in the

world, seem to suggest that the proper place for her is

tragedy. Her play is not without mannerisms, but they are

mannerisms that are pleasing.... She has a charming voice, and

an excellent way of singing, full of that grace, sweetness

and facility which French singers can never achieve. Speaking

for myself, this is the first, and perhaps the last time that

I have heard anyone sing in a Parisian theatre with such

ravishing charm and grace.”

The Italian comedians, to repair the loss which they suffered in the

retirement of Mademoiselle Piccinelli, and the death of Madame Savi—who

had made her début in 1760 in the parts of leading lady—charged Colalto,

who played Pantaloon parts, to go to Italy to find two actresses. He

left in April of 1766 and returned in August with the Signore Zanarini

and Bacelli, mother and daughter. They made their début as first and

second ladies in _Gli Amori d’Arlequino_ of Goldoni. Those who understood

Italian applauded them heartily, especially the mother; the others

withdrew but indifferently satisfied. Madame Zanarini was engaged to

play leading rôles, and her daughter, Mademoiselle Bacelli, for those of

soubrettes.

In 1770 Paris received Mademoiselle Mesnard, a young and pretty

Cantatrice, who had begun life as a shopkeeper and then entered

the theatre under the protection of the Duke of Chaulnes, who had

her portrait painted by Greuze. It was she who was the mistress of

Beaumarchais, and the cause of that scandalous rough-and-tumble between

the “duc et pair crocheteur” and the author of _Figaro_. We know that,

as a consequence of this affair, Beaumarchais, although acquitted by the

tribunal of the Marshals of France, which had sent M. de Chaulnes to the

prison of Vincennes under a _lettre de cachet_, was sent to Fort-l’Evêque

by M. de la Vrillière for the sole reason that it was impossible for the

son of a clockmaker to be in the right in a quarrel with a duke and peer.

Of Madame Ruette, Grimm writes on the occasion of her retirement in 1777:

“This charming actress united to the most engaging of voices

and the finest of countenances, a tact that is infinitely rare,

and a most naïve and delicate sensibility. It is hopeless to

expect to see again the rôles of Isabella and Columbine played

as they were played by her. The delightful scene of the Rose

in _Le Magnifique_ was entirely her own work; she diffused

into it a mixture of propriety and interest whose magic is

inexplicable. A singular saying, perhaps, but one full of

truth, was that of Madame d’Houdetot when she declared that,

‘_in that moment Madame La Ruette expressed modesty even in her

back_.’”

The theatres of the fair of Saint-Laurent took possession of the types,

the pieces and the music of the Italians. They played and sang French

recitatives with Italian music, French dance music and French romances.

Down to 1721 we can find only couplets upon ancient airs, or those which

already had been sung elsewhere.

In 1737, Monsigny wrote the music of _On Ne S’Avise Jamais de Tout_,

and of several other comic operas. In 1759, Duni composed _La Veuve

Indécise_, and Laruette wrote _Le Boulevard_ in 1753. Other composers of

music for the Opéra-Comique were MM. Lacoste, Gillier, Aubert, Delacroix,

etc.

Since the Opéra-Comique manifested too great a development, and the

Italian troupe fell short of what was necessary, the two companies united

their forces in 1761. The troupe of the Opéra-Comique was then composed

of Mesdemoiselles Deschamps, Rosaline, Nessel, Luzi, Arnoult, Dezzi,

Florigny. The men were Laruette, Bourette, Delisle, Audinot, Parau,

Saint-Aubert, Clairval and Guignes.

In the forain theatres the principal actresses singing in comic opera or

in parodies were:

Mademoiselle Maillard, the daughter of a cook and a lace-mender. She

began in 1696 with Bertrand, who perceived her talent and gave her an

engagement in his company, in which she remained for eight years. She

married a young man named Cavé, at Besançon. He took the name of Maillard

and became an actor (see Scaramouche). She retired when Mademoiselle de

Lisle entered the theatre in 1716. On the point of being confined, she

was accidentally wounded, and died in September, 1721.

Mademoiselle de Lisle, born in 1684, was barely eleven years of age when

she made her first appearance as a soubrette at the Opéra-Comique. She

reappeared in 1716, played until 1740, and died in 1758.

Mademoiselle Bastolet, born in Paris, joined the _Jeu de Bertrand_ in

1698, on a salary at the rate of tenpence a day. Afterwards she played

with Dolet, with the Sieur Saint-Edme, with Lalauze in 1721, and with

Honoré in 1724, and she married an Italian doctor in 1735. Later, in the

company of the Sieur Pontau, she scored considerable success in the rôles

of mothers.

Mademoiselle Lambert played leading parts and sang in vaudevilles; she

married Dolet, who, before being a manager of the theatres at the fairs

of Saint-Laurent and Saint-Germain, had filled an engagement in the

Italian company of Constantini, and afterwards in that of Tortoretti.

She left the theatre in 1709, became a _modiste_ at the fairs of

Saint-Germain and Saint-Laurent, but, failing to make a success of this

business, she induced her husband to give up the theatre, and jointly

with him opened a lemonade shop.

In 1700, Mademoiselle Babron, the daughter of a box opener at the

Comédie-Italienne, sister of Babron (the forain Harlequin), appeared in

rôles of Columbine and of women disguised as men, in Bertrand’s company.

In 1707 she married the actor Prevost, and went with him into the country.

In 1710, Mademoiselle d’Aigremont, known under the name of _Camuson_,

left her modiste shop to join the Opéra-Comique. She remained there until

1723.

X

THE BALLERINA

The art of dancing is inseparable from the art theatrical, and especially

from pantomime. Xenophon relates that on the occasion of the return of

the ten thousand Greeks sent to assist Cyrus in his campaign against

Artaxerxes, after they had performed their celebrated retreat, dilated

upon by all historians, the Greeks instituted the public games and

festivals.

“Thracians were the first to appear, full-armed, and leaping to

the sound of flutes. They sprang so high and dropped again with

so much force, that the spectators seem to have been frightened.

“Next came a Mysian who held a shield in either hand. He span

rapidly round and performed dangerous leaps whilst retaining

these shields. He ended by striking them one against the other,

after the fashion of the Persians, and by executing to the

sound of this novel instrument a delightful dance-step.

“After him came a company of Arcadians. They were in brilliant

armour and advanced rhythmically, hand in hand, whilst a

warlike march was being played by flutes. Some detached

themselves from the company, others joined it, and they

concluded by dancing in a ring, but with so much rapidity and

unanimity that the movement of a wheel is neither swifter nor

more equal.

“Finally came two women arrayed in the most elegant garments.

One of these performed the Pyrrhic dance, a shield in her

hand; the other went through the dance of Ariane, waving a

kerchief, and she moved with so much lightness and grace that

she delighted the spectators and was greeted at the conclusion

of her ballet by the applause of all.”

Pindar refers to a dance executed by a troupe of Lacedemonian virgins.

The greater part of the Laconian dances were common to boys and to girls.

In _Hormus_ young men and maidens formed by their interlacings the figure

of a collar. The young corypheus advanced with the vigour of his sex,

striking male and bellicose attitudes, whilst the girl who led the choir

advanced on her side with graceful and modest steps.

“At the beginning,” says Lucian, “the same person danced and

sang at the same time; but as it was perceived that the effort

of the dance was troubling to the breathing, it was considered

well to appoint some to sing and others to dance.”

Among the dancers of antiquity there were those who imitated the form and

the movements of beasts.

“From the imitation of animals the dancers passed on to the

imitation of men, selecting those whose professions or vices

rendered their movements more nearly akin to those of animals.

As the _Emmelie_ was the imitation of the most graceful and

healthy bodies, the _Cordace_, or comic dance, was the

imitation of bodies ill-made or deformed as a consequence of

sensuality and low passions” (Magnin, _Origines du Théâtre

Moderne_).

Pliny speaks of the famous Lucceia, who to a talent for dancing added

that of declamation, and who reappeared on the stage in her hundredth

year, to recite some verses. He speaks also of an actress, Galeria

Copiola, mime and dancer, who had made her début in Rome in 671, and who

reappeared in the time of Augustus. She had then reached the age of a

hundred and four. Phœbe Vocontia and the famous Dionysia, who received

two hundred thousand sesterces (about two thousand pounds sterling per

annum) were also _saltatriculæ_ (dancing mimes).

These two types are to be found in the Renaissance. The animal, the

imitative and the burlesque is to be seen as much in the classical

masques of the Italian comedy as in the grotesque ones of Leonardo da

Vinci; whilst we find the graceful, the noble and the beautiful in the

person of the ballerina.

Pietro Maria Cecchini (Fritellino) says, in his discourses on comedy

published in 1614 but written at the end of the sixteenth century: “It

is more than fifty years since the custom arose of introducing women

into the theatre.” He means by that, without doubt, that the women

were entrusted with rôles holding an important place in the plot,

and supplanting the boys to whom such parts had been entrusted until

then. From the fifteenth century (1494), in Italy, we find women in

the theatre, performing concurrently with young men, and very often

licentious in word and deed, the rôles of goddesses, nymphs or of

allegorical and mythological characters. These early actresses in the

comedy of the sixteenth century, notwithstanding the great liberty of

customs and of language, contrived to maintain some of the reserve proper

to their sex.

In his _Supplica_, N. Barbieri (Beltrame) says:

“I shall never bow to the custom of having the rôles of women

or of young girls performed by boys, especially after having

seen the disadvantages which result from this in certain

troupes. To begin with these young people do not know how to

dress themselves in the garments which do not belong to their

sex, and they get themselves dressed at home by their women

or their brainless servants, who sometimes amuse themselves

by trifling with them, so that he whose senses have not been

calmed by age or by serious care may easily become vain and

fatuous; being thus disguised as women, these youngsters

show themselves about the town, talking and fooling one with

another; they come dishevelled to the theatre, and it is then

necessary that their friends or preceptors should dress their

heads again, renew their paint and rearrange their garments.

We are to be thankful if they but come in time, and then it

is necessary to flatter them and to cajole them so to give

them courage; there is more than enough in all this to weary

the patience of those entrusted with such matters. It is more

natural that women should fill the rôles that are proper to

them; they know how to dress themselves and, as they lead

decent lives, far from being a source of scandal, they set none

but good examples. But, one will exclaim, I have successfully

paid my court to an actress. That is possible; but all women

are not so accommodating, nor all men so fortunate. Here is a

man who for years has pursued an actress and fruitlessly spent

treasures upon her. It must be remembered that actresses are

women with the same nature as their sister women. They may not

fall but all the world knows it; and, apart from the fear of

God, they are compelled to live with more care and virtue than

those who are in a position to cover their faults with the

mantle of hypocrisy.”

“For the rest,” says M. H. A. Soleirol, in an interesting work

on Molière and his troupe, “the appearance of women on the

boards seems to go back to very remote ages, as may be seen

in ancient drawings. According to these pictures, which give

the names of actors and indicate the rôles which they filled,

we see that in the fifteenth century many women performed in

the mystery plays rôles either of females or of angels. Many

other old portraits show us that in the sixteenth century women

performed on the trestles in the public places; and lastly we

know the costumes of the women who took part in the comedies of

Marguerite of Navarre in 1540.”

If in the fifteenth century in France women were permitted to appear and

to take part in the mystery plays, there is every reason to suppose that

they were performing long before then in the theatres of Italy, a nation

which always led the way in artists of all kinds.

It is very certain that throughout the Middle Ages there was no lack of

Bohemiennes and _joculatores_ on the trestles. They came to enliven the

sumptuous repasts of the great lords by performing comedy-scenes like

those of _Le Berger et la Bergère_, _Courtois_, _Mariage_ and _Pèlerin_.

The performances of these plays were intermingled with dances and songs.

The earliest actresses derived a great deal from these _ballerine_.

The rôles which they performed, however, were very short ones in

scenarii that were very simple, and one woman in a troupe would often be

sufficient to discharge all the female parts. We know that down to the

end of the seventeenth century the broader female rôles (such as those of

gossips) were invariably performed by men, by Scaramouche, Harlequin and

Pierrot.

Later on it became necessary that all Italian actresses should be able

to dance; that was part of their primary education. For many celebrated

actresses, indeed, it was the essential factor in their admission into

the theatre; and even in the eighteenth century it was necessary for the

immortal tragic actress Hippolyte Clairon to be able to dance and sing

so as to be accepted into the Théâtre-Italien. Coraline and Camille,

the famous daughters of the actor Veronese, owed their chief success to

their dancing. This applies also to Madame Favart, whose village dance in

sabots took Paris by storm.

In the plays of Angelo Beolco (Ruzzante, 1530), the young woman does not

take up more than two or three scenes, somewhere about the middle of the

piece, leaving it to other characters to continue and work out the story.

We find her still the object of the plot; but, contrary to our modern

theatrical rules, she disappears sometimes in the very moment when the

interest of which she is the pivot reaches its climax. The reason for the

slight development of these rôles was without doubt the insufficiency and

inexperience of the actresses entrusted with them, and perhaps also their

obligation to go and change their dress for the final ballet. In _La

Mandragora_, of Macchiavelli, Lucretia appears for the first time in the

third act, and does not reappear thereafter until the end of the fifth.

With the Italians, the dance was in such high repute that in the

sixteenth century young Frenchwomen “would go beyond the Alps to learn

it.” No spectacles were given in Italy that did not include dances and

music, and to this day there are interludes in _Norma_ and _Semiramide_

of ballets imitating village dances.

In the seventeenth century the court of Savoy set the fashion to all

other courts of Europe by its ballets and fairy scenes, under the

direction of the famous Comte d’Aglié, a fertile genius in the matter of

theatrical invention.

The scenario of one of his ballets, given on the occasion of the birth

of the Cardinal of Savoy in 1634, is extremely curious by virtue of the

singular allegorical personages introduced into it. The title of this

ballet is: _La Verità nemica della Apparenza sollevata dal Tempo_.

“At rise of curtain a choir of False-Reports and of Suspicions

is discovered, preceding Appearance and Falsehood. The back

of the stage is opened. Upon a great cloud borne by the Winds

Appearance is seen dressed in a garment of changing colours

sewn with mirrors, and equipped with the wings and tail of

a peacock; she is in a sort of nest whence issue a crowd of

Pernicious Falsehoods, Frauds and Cheats; Pleasant Falsehoods,

Flatteries and Intrigues; Comical Falsehoods, Pleasantries and

Pretty little Stories.

“These characters had their various entrances until the advent

of Time. He drove out Appearance, and caused the cloud upon

which she had been enthroned to be opened. Within it was then

discovered a huge hour-glass from which came Truth and the

Hours. These last characters, after various speeches analogous

to the subject, formed the great ballet.”

It was then the custom for great personages, even sovereigns themselves,

to take part in fêtes of this brilliant kind. Thus, Louis XIV., desiring

in his pleasures as in other things to be the first of his century,

danced in the ballets of his court, and received the applause of the

comedians for his performance as actor, singer and dancer.

“The King has twice rehearsed the ballet which he intends to

dance before the Queen of England” (Guy Patin, 1661). It was

in this same year that the great monarch created a dancing

academy, “because,” he says in his letters patent, “the art of

dancing has always been recognised as one of the most virtuous

and necessary to adapt the body to exercise, and consequently

one of the most useful to our nobility, not only in time of war

in our armies, but also in time of peace in our ballets.”

Louis XIV. loved the rôle of the Sun in these splendid ballets, for the

production of one of which no less than nine hundred new costumes were

prepared. Sometimes, however, he did not disdain to be seen in a comic

part. In the ballet of the _Seasons_ he represented the golden-headed

Ceres surrounded by the reapers, which were played by Messeigneurs de

Saint-Aignan and de Vertpré, MM. Lulli and Bruneau, the Sieurs Beauchamp,

Raynal, Lecomte and Lapierre. In the _Triumph of Bacchus_, he performed

the part of a sort of good-for-nothing cutpurse and bully, and even

sang a couplet in favour of the fair sex. In _Les Amants Magnifiques_,

a comedy-ballet by Molière (1670), he not only co-operated in the

preparation of the scenery and in the production, but mimed, danced, sang

and played the flute and the guitar.

Let us cite amongst the most famous dancers Gertrude Boon, called _la

belle Tourneuse_; a surname derived from the style of dance which she

performed. She appeared and obtained the greatest possible success in the

theatre of Dame Baron, at the fair of Saint-Germain. Gertrude Boon was

young, beautiful and extremely gracious in the performance of her bizarre

evolutions. She was no less virtuous than gifted and turned a deaf ear

upon the sighs of her numerous suitors. Amongst these was a Sieur Gervais

who had amassed a considerable fortune at play and who, to prove to

this austere maiden how sincerely he loved her, offered her his fortune

and his name. Gertrude accepted him for her husband, not on account of

his fortune, but believing in the genuineness of his affection. The

marriage however was not a happy one, and Gertrude was driven to seek a

dissolution of it. But she failed in this, the validity of the marriage

being confirmed by a judgment of the 4th March 1715.

Violente, a famous rope dancer, was an Italian. She made her first

appearance at the fair of Saint-Laurent in 1717, and she was there seen

dancing at the _Folies d’Espagne_ upon a balanced plank, eight inches

wide, with as much grace as security.

Mademoiselle Hamoche, the wife of Hamoche, the Pierrot of the fairs,

united, in 1721, the capacities of tragic actress and première danseuse

in the forain theatres.

In 1724, Mademoiselle Grognet was dancing at the Opéra-Comique; she

passed into the service of the Duke of Modena in 1736, and married the

Marquis d’Argens, at Berlin.

Mademoiselle Cuppi de Camargo, born in Brussels in 1710, made her first

appearance at the Opéra in 1726 at the age of sixteen, and did not leave

it until 1751. Voltaire compares her to Mademoiselle Sallé, another

dancer quite as famous:

“Ah! Camargo, que vous êtes brillante!

Mais que Sallé, grands dieux! est ravissante!

Que vos pas sont légers, et que les siens sont doux!

Elle est inimitable, et vous êtes nouvelle:

Les Nymphes sautent comme vous,

Et les Grâces dansent comme elle.”

She was received with enthusiasm, her name became so popular that

fashions assumed it. There were Camargo bonnets, Camargo corsets, Camargo

head-dresses, Camargo cakes, etc., etc.; never had such a vogue been

known. Compelled, notwithstanding her brilliant début, to remain among

the supernumeraries in consequence of the jealousy of Mademoiselle

Prévot, Camargo contrived to issue in a brilliant manner from those ranks.

“A dance of Demons was being done. The principal actor misses

his entrance and whilst the orchestra, nevertheless, plays

the air of the solo, murmurs rise from the groundlings; they

become noisy and the actor is embarrassed, when the young

débutante, seized with a happy inspiration, leaps to the middle

of the stage, and improvises with spirit a Spanish step which

delights the dissatisfied spectators, and transports them with

admiration.”

Camargo was chiefly distinguished for her extraordinary lightness and her

wild gaiety.

In a letter written from Italy in 1739 by the Président de Brosses, the

following passage occurs:—

“There is nothing better to do when one arrives than to go to

the comedy to seek amusement; this is what we did at Verona.

I cannot get accustomed to the cheapness of the prices; the

first places do not cost ten sous; but the Italian nation is

imbued with the taste for spectacles so that the quantity of

people who attend fully compensates for this. Thanks be to God

there is no trouble to find room at the comedy in Verona. It

is performed right in the middle of the ancient amphitheatre

of the Romans, and there are no other places provided for the

spectators but those on the steps of the amphitheatre, where

all sit together and where some thirty thousand persons can be

accommodated. The companies of the country itself are, in my

view, better than those which are transplanted to Paris and to

our provinces, but the object of my ever-increasing surprise,

although I have seen her every day, is a young dancer who leaps

at least as high as Javilliers who can make twenty successive

capers without once repeating herself, and perform every one of

the steps that are so admired in our dancing masters; so that

on the score of lightness Camargo, by comparison with her, is

a dancer of stone. In general the dancers of this country are

very much stronger and cleverer than our own.”

The history of the harlequinade, volume 2 (of 2) · 第 4 / 20 段