A whim of this reign is to the credit of the Duke of Nemours. To contrive a choreographic composition “docile to his rheumatism,” he composed in 1630 a Ballet of the Gouty. Meantime the dance was becoming frivolous, if not licentious. To rectify its shortcomings Richelieu applied himself—not to preaching damnations of dancing in general, but to the creation of an allegorical ballet of the sort he thought suitable. Quatre Monarchies Chrétiennes, played in 1635, is a result of his efforts; “full of pageantry the most opulent and morality the most orthodox,” in the words of Robert Brussel.
The regency of Anne of Austria developed nothing in particular; a delicate character enveloped the dance in conformity to the regent’s disposition and taste. But distinct progress was not destined to take place until the reign of Louis XIV, founder of the national ballet academy, perhaps the most helpful patron the dance ever had, and as devoutly enthusiastic an amateur performer as ever lived. He played prominent parts in ballet pantomimes to the number of twenty-six.
The date of the founding of the school, L’Académie Nationale de Musique et de la Danse, is 1661. From that time, through several decades, developments follow with extraordinary rapidity, and in so many different directions that it is impossible to follow them consecutively. Great performers begin to appear; artists whose work enraptures the public by grace of beauty alone, signifying that execution had been awakened. Mlles. Prévost and Sallé were contemporaries and rivals, each with a great and ardent supporting faction. Of the latter’s personality, it is of interest that she was a friend of Locke, author of Human Understanding. Her popularity is gauged by her pay for a single performance in London, namely, something over two hundred thousand francs. The amount probably includes the considerable quantity of gold and jewels thrown to the stage during the performance, for enthusiasm appears to have reached the point of mania. This admiration was won without very rapid movement, Sallé believing only in the majestic; or any high or very broad steps, which did not exist in the ballet in her time. To have stirred the public as she did without these resources argues a degree of grace and expressiveness less earthly than heavenly.
Yet her reputation was to be eclipsed by a girl who was studying during the very hours when Sallé was gathering laurels. Camargo was her name. She was born in Brussels, daughter of a dancing master. To natural grace and health she added an inordinate fondness for dancing, and eager facility for learning its technicalities. Parental vacillation and educational theories cripple many an artist’s career at its beginning. But Camargo’s father being a dancing teacher, there was just one thing for the child to do in the natural course of events, and that was to learn to dance.
At the age of ten, her art attracted the attention of a patroness, and she was sent to Paris to study under Mlle. Prévost. In the corps de ballet at the opera she bolted into public notice by joining impulse to accident. One Dumoulin, on a certain occasion, missed his musical cue for entrance to perform a solo. Mlle. Camargo leaped from her place and executed the solo to the delight of the audience. Introduced at court, her triumph so affected Prévost that she discontinued her pupil’s instruction. It was no longer needed. Camargo’s genius had carried her beyond the reach of jealousy, or even the active intrigue that her ex-teacher directed against her.
Her matrimonial and other social ventures were conducted with such an air of candour, and were of such a diversity that they are, above all, amusing. She was a much-petted personage at court, and an esteemed friend of the king. In general she was known “as a model of charity, modesty and good conduct.” She was given a maiden’s funeral.