Circus Life and Circus Celebrities

by Thomas Frost

Equestrian entertainments were given in 1844, for a short season, at the Lyceum Theatre; and, in the absence of rivalry, attracted good houses. At Astley’s, new aspirants to fame and popular favour appeared in Plége, the French rope-dancer, and Germani, a clever equestrian juggler, whose performance seems to have somewhat resembled that given a few years ago at the Holborn Amphitheatre by Agouste, with the difference that Germani performed his feats on the back of a horse. He juggled with balls, oranges, and knives alternately, and then with a marble, which he caught in the neck of a bottle while the horse was in full career.

Carter, the lion-tamer, was also engaged towards the close of the season; and, his re-appearance having shown that the exhibition of trained lions and tigers was still attractive, another of the profession, named White, was engaged by Batty in 1845, with a group of performing lions, tigers, and leopards. White, however, never produced the sensation created by the performances of Van Amburgh and Carter. The equestrianism was a very strong feature of the programme this season, those accomplished riders, John Bridges and Alfred Cooke, being engaged, while Batty and Newsome were pillars of strength in themselves. Cooke’s company appeared this year at the Standard, and was succeeded in the two following years by Tournaire’s and Columbia’s, but equestrian performances did not attract there.

In 1846, Simpson, host of the Albion Tavern, opposite Drury Lane Theatre, opened Cremorne Gardens, for which he engaged the company and stud of the famous Parisian circus of Franconi.

At Astley’s, in this year, Newsome revived Ducrow’s feat of riding six horses at once, in an act called the Post-boy of Antwerp; and a German equestrian named Hinné, with his daughter Pauline, were engaged. Young Newsome and Mdlle Hinné sometimes rode together in double acts, and in this manner an acquaintance sprang up between them which, becoming tenderer as it progressed, eventually ripened into marriage.

It was during the season of 1846 that the extraordinary spectacle was witnessed at Astley’s of an elephant on the tight-rope. It is not more difficult, however, for an elephant, or any other beast, to balance itself upon a stretched rope than for a man to do so; the real difficulty is in inducing the animal to mount the rope. The art of balancing consists in the maintenance of the centre of gravity, which, it may be explained, is that point in any body, animate or inanimate, upon or about which it balances itself, or remains in a state of equilibrium in any position. In any regular-shaped body, whether round or angular, provided its density is uniform through all its parts, the centre of gravity is the centre of the body; but in an irregular-shaped body, or a combination of two or more bodies, the centre of gravity is the point at which they balance each other. If we place any regular-shaped body on a table, it will remain stationary, or in a state of rest, provided an imaginary line drawn from its centre of gravity, and passing downward in a direction perpendicular to the table, falls within its base. But, if the centre of gravity is in a part of the body above any part of the table that is outside the base, the object will topple over, and assume some position in which the centre of gravity will be within the base. Take, for example, a five-sided block of wood, and place it upon the table. If the five sides are each of the same superficies, it will stand upon either of them; but if they are unequal, and it is so placed that the centre of gravity is above a part of the table that is outside the face upon which you attempt to make it stand, it will fall down.

There is a little toy which I remember having seen when a child, and which, as it illustrates the natural law upon which the art of balancing depends, I will here describe. It was made of elder pith, fashioned and coloured into a rough resemblance to the human figure, and weighted with a piece of lead, like the half of a small bullet, which was attached to its feet with glue. The centre of gravity was, consequently, so low that, in whatever position the figure might be placed, it immediately assumed the perpendicular, and could be kept in any other only by holding it. Now, if the feet of a human being were as much heavier than the head and trunk, as the lead in this toy was heavier than the pith, we should never be in any danger of losing our balance; and an infant might be allowed to make its first essay in walking as soon as its legs were strong enough to support it, without being in any danger of a fall. But the head is, in proportion to its bulk, much heavier than the trunk; and the breadth of the trunk considerably exceeds that of the feet, which constitute the base. The balance is, therefore, easily lost; because a stumble throws the centre of gravity beyond the base.

Though the maintenance of the centre of gravity is rendered more difficult in proportion to the height to which it is raised above the base, as my younger readers may have found when constructing a house of cards, this is not the case when any disturbance of the equilibrium can be counteracted immediately, as in the case of a stick balanced on the tip of the finger. A stick three or four feet long is more easily balanced on the finger than one much shorter, because the tendency to topple over can be counteracted by the movement of the finger in the direction in which it leans, so as to maintain the centre of gravity. Those who make an experiment of this kind for the first time will be apt to find that the balancing of a stick or a broom upon the finger is difficult, owing to the smallness of the base in proportion to the height of the centre of gravity, unless the eyes are directed towards the top. The stick is at rest at the base, and any deviation from the perpendicular must commence at the upper extremity. Keep your eye on the top, and you can balance a scaffold-pole or a ladder, if you can sustain the weight. Whatever difficulty there was in the feat of balancing a ladder, to the top of which a small donkey was attached, as exhibited in my juvenile days by an itinerating performer,—whence the saying, ‘Twopence more, and up goes the donkey!’—was due entirely to the weight of the animal; because, if it was properly attached to the ladder, the centre of gravity would be in precisely the same situation as if the ladder alone had to be balanced.

In the animal world, the centre of gravity is invariably so placed as to produce an exact equilibrium and harmony of parts. Every animal furnished with legs is balanced upon them; so that in man the centre of gravity is the crown of the head. The reader may test this by leaning forward or laterally, with the arms by the side, and the legs straight, when a tendency to fall will be experienced, which can be counteracted only by extending an arm or a leg in the opposite direction. The art of balancing the body in extraordinary situations, as exemplified in the feats of rope-walkers and gymnasts, depends, therefore, on the same natural law as that which enables us to balance a stick upon the finger. The centre of gravity must be kept perpendicular to the rope or bar, any tendency to sway to the right or left being corrected by the arms, or by the balancing-pole, if preferred, by performers on the rope.

I have dwelt upon this subject a little after the manner of a lecturer, because so many of the feats performed in the arena of a circus depend upon the natural law which I have endeavoured to explain, and many of my readers, who have witnessed them, without being able to account for them, may like to know something of the rationale. It may be asked, and the question is a very pertinent one, why do not equestrians fall in performing feats of horsemanship in a standing position, in which, as the horse careers round the ring, they lean inward? This phenomenon is due to the counterpoise which, in the case of bodies in a state of rapid motion, the centrifugal force presents to the weight of the body.

Centrifugal force, it must be explained, is the tendency which bodies have to fly off in a straight line from motion round a centre; and the power which prevents bodies from flying off, and draws them towards a centre, is called centripetal force. All bodies moving in a circle are constantly acted upon by these opposing forces, as may be seen by attaching one end of a piece of string to a ball, and the other to a stick driven into the ground. If the ball is thrown horizontally, with the string in a state of tension, it will fly round the stick; but, if it becomes disengaged from the string, the centrifugal force, or its tendency to fly off, will cause it to proceed in a straight line from the point at which the separation is effected.