CHAPTER XXVIII

FANNY CERITO (“ONDINE”)

Of the great quartette, Cerito was the especial pet of London audiences, among whom she was always known as the “divine” Fanny.

This but echoed the pretty worship of her good old father to whom she was always “La Divinita,” and who in the heyday of her success used to go about with his pockets stuffed with her old shoes, and fragments of the floral crowns which had been thrown to her on the stage.

From the time of her birth at Naples, in 1821, he had guarded her, and his pride in her talent and her triumphs was but natural, seeing how young she was, how early she won fame, and how great was her charm.

She made her _début_ at the San Carlo, Naples, in 1835, in a ballet called “The Horoscope.” She then toured, appearing at most of the Italian cities. Even before she had left Italy she had earned, on her _début_ at Milan, the complimentary title of “the fourth Grace,” one of the many “fourth” Graces the world has seen since ancient classic days!

After Italy there followed a couple of years at Vienna and then, strangely enough, reversing the customary order of things, her London _début_ was made some years before she appeared in Paris. She was seen regularly in London for some seasons from 1840 onwards.

In May, 1841, she appeared at Her Majesty’s, in the “Lac des Fées,” with great success; in June “Sylphide” was revived for her, and on August 12th she took her benefit, to which people flocked from all parts of London and, notwithstanding the usual deserted state of town at such a time, the audience was one of the biggest and most fashionable on record. Then she went on a brief visit to Liverpool, and then returned for a time to Vienna.

It was in the two ballets, “Alma” and “Ondine,” that the beauteous Fanny achieved her greatest triumphs, in the former representing a fire-spirit, in the latter, a water-nymph given, as was Hans Andersen’s little Mermaid, mortal life and form.

She appeared in “Alma,” a ballet by Deshayes, on its first production in London during July, 1842, on the night when the famous “Persiani” row took place, and which was said to be worse than several similar riots in the previous year at the Opera. Mme. Persiani had been “too ill to sing,” and the audience had been incredulous. Comparative quiet was at length secured by the respected manager, Lumley, and, as a journal of the time quaintly records: “A beautiful, sylph-like Cerito, danced in the splendid ballet of ‘Alma,’ and by her inspiration hushed the stormy elements with a repose that ought always to reign when genius and talent are supreme.”

Another chronicler speaks of the “new and glittering ballet of ‘Alma,’ which reflects the greatest credit on the inventor, M. Deshayes,” and adds: “We have no hesitation in saying that this is the ballet of all ballets, and carries our memory back to our young, innocent and merry days of juvenility, when care was not care, and tears not tears of woe, to the days of bright sunny smiles, when fairies in our eyes _were_ fairies, and when the brilliant realisations of the doings of ‘Cherry and Fair Star’ were real, existing things of creation, and part and parcelling of our then dreamy nature and being. Such is the new ballet of ‘Alma.’ It is one of the best ever put on the opera boards.” That this impression was created was due certainly to the talent, both as actress and dancer, of Cerito, for whom the ballet had been specially composed.

Apropos of her great popularity in London a contemporary record mentions an interesting “fact which will bear testimony at once to her perfect embodiment of the poetry of motion and her excellent private character,” namely, that “The Queen Dowager of England was lately graciously pleased to bestow on her a splendid enamel brooch, set with diamonds, and accompanied by a most flattering message.”

“Alma” was succeeded in the following year by “Ondine,” also composed specially for her, by Perrot, with admirable music by Pugni, and produced at Her Majesty’s on June 22nd, 1843. The plot is somewhat like that of Hans Andersen’s story, “The Little Mermaid,” and the production gave Cerito fine opportunities for expressive miming as well as dancing, one of the great moments of the ballet being the scene in which the little Naiad realises at last the mortal life which has been given her, when, for the first time she sees her shadow cast by the moonlight; and then came one of the chief sensations of the ballet--Cerito’s dancing of the famous _pas de l’ombre_, a thing of such beauty that the audience wished it a joy for ever.

Cerito made her Parisian _début_ with success in 1847, in a ballet called “La Fille de Marbre,” composed by St. Leon.

A French critic, speaking of her personal attractions, described her as “_petite et dodue ... les bras ronds et d’un contour moelleux, les yeux bleus, le sourire facile, la jambe forte, le pied petit, mais épais, la chevelure blonde, mais rebelle_.” A charming little picture.

Another critic wrote: “Short in stature and round in frame, Cerito is one example of how grace will overcome the lack of personal elegance, how mental animation will convey vivacity and attraction to features which, in repose, are heavy and inexpressive. With a figure which would be too redundant, were it not for its extreme flexibility and abandon, Cerito is yet a charming _artiste_, who has honourably earned a high popularity and deservedly retained it.”

Some idea of her style as a dancer, as well as of her personal appearance, is afforded by another contemporary who described her as “bondante and abondante.”

Among her other successes were “La Vivandière” and “Le Diable au Violon.” For the last-named the violin was played by St. Leon, the violinist and ballet-master, whom she married. She separated from him in 1850. In April, 1854, she won a striking success in a ballet, “Gemma,” which she had composed in collaboration with Théophile Gautier--a great admirer of her--and she retired later in the same year.