The Art of Ballet

by Mark Edward Perugini

One of the most remarkable, and, according to contemporaries, beautiful mounted ballets ever composed was that of “Æolus, King of the Winds,” which Alfonso Ruggieri Sansoverino presented at the wedding of the Prince of Tuscany in the year 1628 in the St. Croix Square, in Florence. On one of the sides of this square was a large reef with a cave hollowed out of its rock and closed by a great door secured with padlocks.

Don Anthony de Medici, who took the part of master of the combat, having reconnoitred the course, Æolus, King of the Winds, entered, accompanied by twelve watermen to whom he “had taught the use of sails and the nature of the winds.” Twelve Tritons walked before him blowing their trumpets. Eight Sirens replied on other instruments, accompanied by Hoar-frost. Eight pages represented the many effects of the Winds, causing cold, hot, damp, dry, clear, dull, serene or cloudy weather.

The two sponsors walked behind their pages. The chariot of the Ocean followed, drawn by two big whales. It represented a rock covered with seaweed, coral and different kinds of shells. Nymphs of the sea, rivers and springs were seated on this rock, and gave a musical concert with wind instruments presided over by Dolopea, wife of Æolus. Æolus, having passed in his chariot and arrived in front of the Prince’s box, saluted the bride, and after offering her his kingdom and all his troops, took a lance in his hand; then, suddenly departing, went and thrust against the door of the Cave of the Winds. The padlocks broke, and the door being opened, thirty-two mounted men and a hundred and twenty-eight on foot were set at liberty. The men, rushing like the winds they represented, ran to the other side of the square. Here Æolus stopped them and gave them orders to arrange themselves into a triangular figure. He led them in this order to salute the Princess for whom the fête was arranged. After having taken their places, they began to manœuvre their horses in a ring on the right; they went in single file to make a chain, and sixteen of them having broken it, they formed a smaller one, from which eight more detached themselves, making a still smaller one. The first horsemen, curveting, manœuvred their horses to perform voltes and half-voltes, joining again without a halt, and, forming twos, fours and eights, “they mingled capers at the galop, with caracolling in figures, performing a marvellous labyrinth with their intertwinings and evolutions.”

In the year 1628, the students of the College at Rheims danced a ballet in joyful commemoration of the taking of La Rochelle, the design of which, after ancient Roman models, was “The Conquest of the Car of Glory by the great Theander.”

Unlike modern musical comedy, or “revue,” there purported to be a plot. The Giants of the Black Tower, trusting in the might of their magic, published a challenge “full of empty pride,” by which they summoned all Knights-errant to the conquest of the Car of Glory.

Lindamor, wishing to chastise the insolence of these fiends, arranges with three of his friends to go and fight them. The Black Tower is full of sorceries, and there was no means of opening it, except by the sounding of an enchanted horn which the Giants had fastened to the Gate. Lindamor sounds it; the Giants issue forth upon him and his comrades, and the contest being unequal, Lindamor is compelled to withdraw and to leave his comrades in the hands of the Giants, who load them with chains, and fasten them to the Castle Gate to serve as a trophy to their vanity.

Some country shepherds who had seen the adventure of Lindamor and the Giants, persuade Caspis to take a part in favour of these unhappy knights. This shepherd, who was above the power of all magic, presents himself before the captives, and first of all breaks their chains and sets them at liberty. Lindamor, well pleased at the courtesy of Caspis, discusses with him the means of avenging himself on the Giants of the Black Tower. He learns from this shepherd that the sword of Cloridan is necessary for this enterprise, and that, in order to get it, it is necessary to put to sleep the Dragon to whom the Giants have given the charge of it. The shepherd offers, himself, to do this and succeeds. But to get the sword of Cloridan something more was wanted than to put the Dragon to sleep. The shepherd evokes the shade of Cloridan to find out from him what must be done to make use of this sword successfully.

The shade when called forth, informs him that Theander alone is capable of using it. The rumour of this oracular response having got abroad, Vulcan with his Cyclops prepares arms for Theander, who being preceded by Renown and followed by Lindamor, reaches the place where the sword of Cloridan is guarded, seizes the sword, after having chained the Dragon, presents himself with it at the gate of the Black Tower, causes the gate to open at the sound of the horn, defeats the Giants, draws from the Tower the Car of Glory, harnesses the Giants to it and triumphs finally over the arms and the enchantments of his enemies.

The story, which smacks of some mediæval romance of Chivalry, was really allegorical of the capture of La Rochelle. The late king was Theander; the shepherd Caspis was the Cardinal Richelieu, his prime minister; Lindamor, the King, Henry III, who, being as yet only Duc d’Anjou, had attempted this siege in vain. The sword of Cloridan was that of Clovis; the Black Tower was La Rochelle; and the magic charms were Heresy and Rebellion.