The Master and the Mademoiselle: Gender Secrets in Plain Sight in Antebellum Performance

\ The Master and the Mademoiselle Gender Secrets in Plain Sight in Antebellum Performance —SHAUNA VEY On February 25, 1860, the New York Clipper ran a piece about the circus performer known as Ella Zoyara: “He was unfortunate enough to lose her balance while performing his bare back act, and before she could recover himself, down she went, sustaining an injury to one of his feet, which incapacitated her from performing for a short time. He is again on hand, however, or at least, on foot, astonishing the spectators by her wonderful command over the horse.”1 The bemused writer was alluding to the fact that the star performer—although costumed and billed as a woman—was, in fact, a man. Male or not, Mlle Zoyara was a success. Her reputation was made before the crowned heads of Europe, who were stunned by both the daring horsemanship of the performance and the graceful beauty of the performer.2 In America, Zoyara became a sensation, engendering both admiration and resentment. The Original Zoyara and His Clones New York was prepared for Zoyara’s debut by weeks of advertising telling of European success.3 The ads said she had appeared in London, Berlin, Rome, and Vienna. She had delighted the Emperor Francis Joseph and been given an Arabian mare by a member of the Polish court.4 Similar stories would surface later: a Russian count had fallen madly in love with her; the King of Sardinia had { 39 } given her a stallion.5 The stories conjured up a woman of beauty, grace, and daring. None mentioned her beginnings. Zoyara’s debut with Cooke’s Circus on January 16, 1860, at Niblo’s Garden in New York inaugurated a successful tour that would last most of the year. In its review that January the New York Tribune wrote that Zoyara was “¤rst and foremost in public favor.”6 Two months later the show opened in Boston “to one of the largest audiences ever seen in those walls.”7 In May the Brooklyn Eagle exclaimed: “Crowds continue to throng this beautiful exhibition,afternoon and evening. . . . There has never been anything in the Circus way seen under a canvas that can in any way compare in talent and originality.”8 In July a spectator declared Zoyara “about the most astonishing rider I ever saw.”9 Zoyara’s success caught the attention of other entertainers eager for new attractions. Within a very few weeks of Zoyara’s New York opening, George Christy’s minstrel company introduced a new featured performer, “Mr. Zoyara, the African Giant.”10 Like the other minstrel performers in Christy’s troupe, the “African” Zoyara was doubtless a white male in blackface. Designed to parody the original, Mr. Zoyara was her opposite at every point. He was clearly male; “she” was covertly male. Her costume, grace, and beauty emphasized femininity, while his billing (and presumed stature) as a giant emphasized virility . In Philadelphia, two other minstrel companies also introduced new acts. As one newspaper observed, “Ella Zoyaras are multiplying with great rapidity.” Dan Rice’s company introduced its own Mlle Zoyara, coyly claiming that “there is no other female entitled to the name.”A skilled male rider was employed and dressed like a female. This was not a parody but an imitation. The critics praised both appearance and ability, noting, “Altogether the Philadelphia institution is well made up, and goes through many surprising feats of horsemanship with marvelous intrepidity and daring.”11 Rice wanted the public to believe that he was presenting the original, not a copy. Competition with Cooke’s was ¤erce, with each manager working to keep his star’s name before the public. As one writer observed: Dan Rice’s Zoyara, at the show in Philadelphia, has proved equal to all emergencies , and has in no single instance permitted the New York Zoyara to eclipse him. At Niblo’s in New York, Zoyara was thrown from the ®ying steed; the Philadelphia performer suffered likewise; the New Yorker sprained an ankle; so did the Philadelphia chap. . . . In fact, if the New York Zoyara should undertake to break a leg, the Philadelphia wonder would not hesitate to snap off the pair. . . . The effort...