Dressed in male or female apparel, the monkey’s naturally comical appearance is greatly hightened. Thus, one may be dressed to represent a lady of fashion, while another personates her footman, who, dressed in gorgeous livery, supports her train. This is elaborated into quite a little scene at some exhibitions. A little barouche, drawn by a team of dogs, is driven on the stage, a monkey driving while a monkey footman sits solemn and erect upon his perch behind. A monkey lady and gentleman are seated inside, she with a fan and parasol, and he with a stovepipe hat. Around the stage several times the equipage is driven, until by-and-by one of the wheels comes off and a sudden stop results. Down the footman comes, opens the carriage door, assists gentleman to hand out lady—who has fainted in gentleman’s arms just as she ought under these trying circumstances, and in a style that would do credit to any belle in a similar accident at Central Park—gets chair from side of stage for her to sit in, while gentleman fans her till she gradually recovers. Coachman meantime gets down and goes after the lost wheel, which he rolls to the vehicle and places therein; then mounting his box, drives off, for repairs it is presumed. By this time the lady has recovered, takes the arm of her escort and follows after the carriage, while the footman brings up the rear, carrying the chair.
MONKEY “MUSICIANS.”
This is apparently quite a complicated performance, but is not particularly difficult. Each performer is taught what he is to do, the most intelligent monkey being generally assigned the footman’s character. The dogs are taught to run around until the wheel comes off; this is their signal to stop. In teaching the monkeys their parts a portion only of the scene is taught at first; thus some days may be consumed in merely making the actors occupy their appointed positions properly—such slight improprieties as the footman jumping down upon the heads of the lady and gentleman, or the gentleman pulling the driver off his seat by the tail, or the lady banging her cavalier over the head with her parasol, and like exhibitions of playfulness, being checked by applications of the whip. Gradually the “business” of the scene is built up—each lesson including all performed up to that time and a little in advance; nuts, bread and an occasional bit of candy, being the rewards for success, and whip for failure therein. Each monkey knowing his name, and being called upon by name when his turn comes, he by-and-by learns the proper time to perform his assigned work without any prompting.
The equestrian performances on pony or dog-back, styled “steeple chases,” and like tricks usually exhibited, scarcely require notice here. However amusing they may be it can hardly be said that the monkey’s part of the exhibition requires much of either intelligence or training, as he is usually strapped upon his steed and cannot very well help staying there. Sometimes, however, instead of tying the monkey in the saddle, a perch is erected on the fore part of the saddle, to which he clings frantically as the dog or pony rushes around the ring. This is no great improvement upon the strap, and the only training the monkey gets is a cut from the whip whenever he permits himself to be dislodged. For a trainer to break a monkey so as to ride a horse, carry a miniature flag, and hold on by the reins, is commonly considered a remarkable achievement. Occasionally though a monkey rider has been exhibited who has really performed in a manner not merely absurd. The most notable example of this kind was a huge ape of the cynocephalus or dog face family, exhibited in the winter of 1867–8 at Lent’s New York Circus, under the title of the “Wonderful Cynocephalus.”
Monsieur Olivier, a French circus manager, had taken a troupe to India on speculation a short time previous to the Sepoy mutiny, on the breaking out of which his company disbanded, many joining the English troops. The manager then wandered in search of an opening for professional speculation, and while so doing attempted the training of several varieties of the monkey tribe. His success was by no means encouraging until, after years of failure, he came across the individual who is the subject of this sketch. The Cynocephalus was captured in Zanzibar, on the east cost of Africa, and from the first exhibited unusual intelligence, and after many months of patient training he was prepared to shine among equestrian stars. His débût was made at the Cirque Napoleon, where he immediately achieved celebrity. His performances afterward repeated in New York were equally successful, and a brilliant career was anticipated for him. Preparations had been made for his exhibition throughout the country, with the circus to which he was attached, but a week or two previous to starting on the summer tour the Cynocephalus was attacked with inflammation of the bowels, and though he rallied, and hopes were entertained of his recovery, he died some days before the time appointed for the start.
THE “WONDERFUL CYNOCEPHALUS.”
Of his achievements in the ring it is only necessary to say that he went through all the feats usually displayed by a circus-rider, jumping upon the horse, standing on one leg, then holding the other in his hand, then standing on his head, following this by somersaults, and finishing off with the customary vaulting through balloons and over banners. There was all the while a gravity of demeanor and seriousness of countenance contrasting favorably with the self-satisfied smirks and meaningless grins of his human compeers.
As regards his tuition, each act had been taught separately, the ape with a cord attached to a collar around his neck and the other end held by his master, being placed in the required position, the horse was then started, and in each instance where the ape quitted his position before the horse was stopped, a cut from the whip was administered; every time the ape retained the position till the horse had gone a certain number of times around the circle, he was rewarded with a sweetmeat. Each time a change of position was to be made, which was always after a particular number of “rounds,” the horse was stopped and the ape made to take the new posture. These attitudes followed one another in regular sequence, and soon a mere change in the music was substituted for the stoppage each time the horse had been around the customary number of times. A hint from the whip was sufficient to remind the ape that he was to make a change. The banner and balloon tricks were readily taught by making him first leap them, when offered, while the horse was standing still, and afterward when in motion. The system of reward or punishment for success or failure was always kept up, and in his public performances a close observer would have noticed at any failure a frightened look from the ape and a sly cut of the whip, while after each successful feat a little sweetmeat was received from the pocket of the ring-master.