THE AMERICAN-SCANDINA VI AN REVIEW 
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hood was spent in the shadow of a tent kept by her parents at “Dyre- 
havsbakken,” a popular amusement park near Copenhagen. Her 
maternal grandmother was one of the women employed to sweep out 
the Royal Theatre, where Betty’s mother often helped her, and it was 
the affection these two women always cherished for all that was asso¬ 
ciated with dramatic art which drew the little girl with the German 
sounding name, Betty Schnell, toward the stage. When only seven 
and a half years old, she began to attend the ballet school, where her 
diligence and grace soon attracted the attention of August Bournon- 
ville, then maitre de ballet. On February 11, 1859, now sixty-three 
years ago, she appeared for the first time on the stage in Ludvig Hol- 
berg’s comedy, The Masquerade. After she had played various chil¬ 
dren’s parts, Professor Hoedt, the stage manager, became interested 
in her. He gave her lessons, learned to know her bright, ready mind, 
and came to believe in her dramatic powers. At the same time she was 
developing into a beautiful dancer, in whom August Bournonville saw 
a future prima donna. On November 21, 1866, when she had made 
her debut as Astrid in the national ballet, Voldemar , the now aged 
master wrote to a friend praising the happy inspiration which had 
drawn his attention to the young pupil, “who, in addition to her charm¬ 
ing talent for graceful dancing, possessed rhythmical swing and had 
in her fair physiognomy that certain inexplicable something charac¬ 
teristic of Jenny Lind.” It was a risky matter to give the leading part 
to a young girl in the beginning of her teens, whose dancing lacked 
force and boldness, but Bournonville silenced opposition in the belief 
that “it is the spirit rather than the body which gives scenic art life 
and charm.” These words contained a fine characterization of the 
young dancer. She may not have possessed choreographic mastery, 
but she did combine a peculiar mixture of purity and grace with the 
power of expressing faith and enthusiasm. As Hilda in A Folk-tale 
—a tribute to nature in Denmark—and as the naval cadet, Poul, in 
Far from Denmark —a picture of the Danish seaman’s glorious so¬ 
journ in foreign ports—she seemed half child, half adult. There was 
poetry in her slender form, leaving an impression in the observer’s 
mind of virgin purity; her glance had the same expression as the 
French sculptor Paul Dubois has given to his Jeanne d’Arc. Young 
poets and writers fell in love with her eyes where both innocence and 
determination shone. 
Theatrical children of fortune are rare occurrences in the annals 
of the stage, but Betty Schnell was one of these. Before she reached 
her twentieth birthday, two branches of art sought to claim her for 
their own. However, as her lungs were not strong, she was unable to 
endure the strain of dancing, and as her own desire led her ever to¬ 
ward the play, Bournonville was forced to renounce in favor of Pro¬ 
fessor Hoedt. No other ballet part had interested her so much as that 
