There are, in fact, two very different categories of equestrians of the haute école; first the wives, daughters, and sisters of the circus managers, who are placed on a horse [p173] trained in the establishment at an early age. Let us softly add that these subjects are nearly always, to quote an expression of M. Molier, “Les fruits secs du panneau.”[11] It sometimes occurs also that a well-to-do manager, who thinks of marrying his daughter in the bourgeoisie—or even in the aristocracy—hesitates to exhibit the young girl in the semi-nudity of tights. He is afraid of alarming the future husband. This has happened with several accomplished equestrians like the late Émilie Loisset, and, at the present moment, Mdlle. Renz.
As a rule, the equestrian of the haute école is a pretty girl who wishes to appear in a circus, and who has found some one [p174] to minister to her vanity. This “some one” must be rich—very rich. The horsewoman in question must take with her three trained horses—two of the haute école, and one leaper. This trio of horses costs a great deal. It is only in a circus that they can be obtained ready to work [p175] with a woman, and the trade in them is a speciality of German circuses. Old horses trained in the haute école, regular as clocks in their movements, may be found there for sale at from 10,000 to 15,000 francs each. The value of the horse sometimes even rises to 20,000 francs if it has a good tail.
A few weeks’ work suffice to “adapt”—another expression of M. Molier, to whom I owe the revelation of all these secrets—a very mediocre equestrian to one of these mechanical horses. The animal, annoyed by its bad rider, who shuffles on her saddle, does not perform one-half of the work which the man has taught him. But the public does not know this, and the would-be sportsmen who adorn the entrance to the ring open admiring eyes when the pretty girl assures them, from the superior height of her saddle, that she trained the horse herself.
These frank explanations will probably make many pretty enemies for me; but, at least, they ought to assure you of the sincerity of the admiration and respect which I profess for the pad equestrians or standing equestrians.
Apparently, in a circus, a woman’s virtue is in inverse proportion to the length of her skirts; the riding-habit is suspected, whilst muslin petticoats soar above all scandalous aspersions.
The “standing” equestrian is usually married to a circus artiste whilst still very young; she is an excellent housewife and a model mother. As long as maternity does not interfere with her profession, she shares her husband’s dangerous performances during her youth. With him she dislocates herself, and bravely fractures her arms and legs. She has [p176] scarcely recovered before she recommences her work. Her circus education is complete. She was placed on a horse at six years old, and besides her standing-up performances—the [p177] most difficult of all—she has learnt the mimic art, the slack wire, juggling, gymnastics, sometimes even the “carpet.” I am not alluding to the haute école. An equestrian who can ride standing is so sure of her balance, and so much accustomed to her horse, that she can ride on a side saddle with very little instruction. She can therefore appear as an equestrian of the haute école with only a few days’ rehearsal.
But amongst all the necessary studies that form part of the education of a pad equestrian, there is one fundamental and primary one to which she devotes as much time as to the riding-school; this is the art of dancing. The equestrian follows the same classes as a ballet girl. Dancing lessons make her turn her feet and knees out, teach her to carry her arms and head well, and give her equilibrium and grace. There are some instances of dancers who, having injured themselves in the exercise of their art, have learnt to ride standing in less than a year.