Punch (43.1862)

116

[September 13, 1862.

i


PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

PERILOUS PERFORMANCES.

{Another Confidential Letter to Tom Turniptoppe, Esquire, a young i
nan from the Country now resident in Town.)

dear Tom,—I heard you
say the other night that you
had seen the Wondrous
Leotard, and thought he
was, by Jove! a deuced
plucky fellow. You also
said something in praise of
a feminine contortionist,
whom you had been to see
at the Allshambles Palace.
No doubt too you have seen
Monsieur Blondin on the
high rope, and considered
his performance as one of
an artistically elevated cha-
racter. Well, tastes natu-
rally differ and are not to
be accounted for, and what
one man thinks disgusting
another finds enjoyable. But
has it ever crossed your
mind that by attending
these performances, you are
aiding and abetting to put
human life in danger, and
encouraging, may be, a taste
for seeing suicide ? It is
very well to say that men
like Leotard and Blon-
din, by constant practice,
have their nerves and limbs
completely in control, and
what were death to you or
me, to them has little danger. 1 grant you that the peril is much
lessened by their usage to it, but the danger still exists, and may any
night prove fatal. With all their skill ana practice, Monsieurs Leo-
tard and Blondin cannot make themselves proof against the freaks
of nature; and, to say nothing of the fact that ropes are not infallible
and by accident will break, pray what human skill can guard against
those physical contingencies which every human frame is heir to ? A
sudden cramp or spasm, or a momentary giddiness, would suffice to
stretch the acrobat a corpse upon the floor, and make every spectator
feel as though he had been an accessory to manslaughter.

Besides, performers are in general by no means so well skilled as
Leotard and Blondin ; but while there is a craving for “sensation”
feats like theirs, of course there will be found men willing to attempt
them, and ready at a price to put their necks in nightly danger. While
Music Halls are crammed to see the Wondrous Leotard, and in con-
sequence he pockets, say, his twenty pounds a night, depend on it his
feats will be copied more or less by Muggins the Miraculous, or the
Bounding Buggins. Now, the trapeze, at first sight seems innocent
enough. It simply is a series of swinging bars, a dozen yards apart,
which being set in motion, the performer grasps in passing, and swiftly
flies along from one bar to another without touching the ground. But
exciting as his flight in mid air seems at first, spectators soon get tired
of seeing the same thing; and when its novelty wears off, the dish has
to be spiced with a dash of some more danger in it; and so trapeze-
performers practise summersaults and turnings and tumblings in their
flights, and nightly introduce fresh perils in their play-bill, until the
climax of attraction and of danger too is reached. All may go on safely
until at length some evening, excited by applause, the performer tries a
feat which he has barely practised. There is a slip—a fall—and then
the strong man is picked up a bleeding, senseless, huddled heap, and
perhaps a wife and family are left without support.

Now, I would not undervalue feats of strength and skill, nor the
courage that is needed to practise and perform them. An acrobat must
have no ordinary pluck, or he could never face the dangers of the tours
de force required of him; and as an Englishman, of course I can’t help
liking pluck, wherever I may find it. Still I think that in such exploits
as those of M. Blondin and those of the trapeze, there is more risk
lhan is allowable for human beings to incur, unless there be a vital
reason for their doing so. A soldier mounts a breach, or a sailor goes
aloft in the midst of a typhoon, because it is their duty to put their
lives in peril. But these things are exceptions, and are not done daily
for mere sake of exhibition, and that crowds may go and gape at them.
Again, there is great danger in well nigh every field sport. A bold
rider is fortunate if he escapes a broken neck, and, with the modern
eal apultive round-shot style of bowling, a cricketer may generally thank
his lucky stars if he suffer nothing worse than being beaten black and
blue. But these are healthy sports, and are none the worse to my mind

' for the danger there is in them, which puts a man’s endurance and
I courage to the test. The risk is not incurred for the mere sake of
getting money, and of affording an unhealthy excitement to a mob.

Moreover, in the hunting field as well as in the cricket one, there is
a pleasure to those occupied that far outweighs the peril. But, with
all his nonchalance and coolness when at work, who believes that M.
Blondin feels a pleasure in performing, or that M. Leotard is not
glad to get to supper without a broken back ?

Another reason why I object to these performances is because of
their unhealthy effect upon spectators. We call a Spanish bullfight a
brutal exhibition, and hold up our hands in wonder, that gently-nurtured
ladies can affect to take delight in it. But in a bull-fight it is mainly
brute life which is threatened; whereas in the trapeze and M. Blon-
din’s case, the sole risk that attracts is that of a man’s neck. Yet
ladies highly-born have flocked lo such performances, and have sat
through them with rather enjoyment than disgust. And can you think
they did so without some mental detriment ? Do you not imagine that
accustoming the eye to such exciting sights blunts and blights the
better feelings of the heart, and hardens all the tender sympathies of
nature ? I Believe that, man or woman, whoever is accustomed to the
sight of life imperilled, loses gradually the sense of pity it should waken,
and grows callous to the sight of human suffering and pain. The most
tender-hearted beings after going to a course of Perilous Performances,
would see an accident to limb or life without feeling much sorrow; and
would regard it rather less as a misfortune than a fault. If a man fell
from a ladder, or a jockey from a horse, they would criticise the clumsi-
ness and not pity the mishap; and instead of feeling sympathy, and
crying “ Oh, poor creature ! ” would be more inclined to call out
“ What a stupid muff! ”

Perhaps you say you are only doing what your forefathers have done,
in going to see feats like those of Leotard and Blondin. Well, 1
grant you there is nothing very new in their performances. Any middle-
aged young man who has a score of years of memory must recollect
rope-walkers at Yauxhall and Cremorne, who went nearly if not quite
to the same height as M. Blondin ; and men whose heads do stoop a
little on their shoulders, and the shadow of whose waistcoats is more
convex than of yore, can tell how Madame Saqui used every night to
make her “ terrible ascent,” surrounded by a halo of flying squibs and
crackers. It is not the novelty but the chance of neck-breaking that
appears still to attract. I would no more let my girls attend these
Perilous Performances than I would allow them to go and see a prize-
fight. But as I said, tastes differ; and the crowd that thronged the
Crystal Palace when Blondin first performed was one of the most
fashionable ever there assembled, and quite as many ladies as gentlemen
were present. Strange as it may seem, it has been ever thus, as any
one well up in history can vouch. Still, within the last half-century,
we in England have been bragging about our March of Intellect, and
boasting of the strides that Education has been taking with its seven-
league stepping boots. There arises then the question—Alter all, does
Education in reality refine? The love of Perilous Performances so
rampant still among us is merely a new form of tbe old gladiator gusto
with which the bloody Circus scenes were relished in old Home. We
lift our eyes in pious horror at the cruelties wherewith the heathen
matrons were wont to feast their eyes, but how many highborn mothers
in our Christian land have brought their girls to see (perhaps) a broken
neck ?

Whether the taste for quiet pleasures is dying out among us, killed
by the excitement of the battles fought in business, now that the
money-getting mania is infecting every brain, I leave to other moralists
with more leisure to inquire. But there is certainly a growing taste
for pleasures spiced with peril (such as M. Blondin’s omelette,
cooked on his high rope), and to my thought this is clearly a vitiated
appetite, betokening a most unhealthy state of palate, and one which
only a strong purgative of common sense can cure. I would say then,
my dear Tom, that the less that you or any other young man from the
country go to places of amusement with the chance of seeing suicide,
the better it will be for you and those with whom you have to do.
When you are in Spain, be a Spaniard if you please; and go to see a
bull-fight,, and what, brutal sports you like. But do not carry home
your relish for Perilous Performances, or, by giving them your patronage,
encourage their existence. It is surely hardly decent for a well-bred
Christian gentleman to show a taste for seeing necks put needlessly in
peril, and visit places where his presence may stimulate performers to
commit sensation suicide, or at least to get their living by what is very
likely to bring about their death.

I remain, my dear boy, your Mentor, and I hope you will not think
tormento''.

Behind his Age.

A Writer in Once a Week says that whatever may have been the
short-comings of the Pope in other respects, there is no denying that he
has earnestly promoted the celebrated Vatican manufacture of Mosaics.
In fact, the Pope might not now be under notice to quit, had his
Holiness been as attentive to Christian as to Mosaic work.