Country Dances: A Means to Encourage Affection

It’s International Dance Day! Yes, today I will babble about dancing, particularly the country dances that were enjoyed at balls during the Georgian era.

Georgian and Regency romance writers and readers love a ball or dance. When writing about high society, it’s impossible not to have the characters attend a dance because such events were central to the social scene. Balls and dances were enjoyed across society be they formal, invitation-only events for the ton, or a livelier romp at the local assembly hall in a small country village attended by all.

Dancing was the chance for young people to meet and interact with a potential spouse and was deemed a highly appropriate form of courtship. Just make sure not to step on your partner’s foot, or you will be doomed to become a wallflower.

“To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love.”

Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
country dances
Detail from frontispiece to Thomas Wilson Correct Method of German and French Waltzing (1816)
Public Domain

Public and Private Balls

High society believed private balls were better than public balls. Private balls were invitation-only events, while any old riff-raff could buy a ticket for a public ball. Who wanted to mingle with the lower orders?  

A public ball was usually held in an assembly room and leading members of society (both high society and the middle classes held public balls) organised and paid for them. Now, the infamous Wednesday evening events at Almack’s were a public ball. However, you could only buy a voucher if you were “on the books” of one of the famous Lady Patronesses.

Dancing Dos and Don’ts

According to Elegant Etiquette in the Nineteenth Century by Mallory James (2017), there were many rules ladies and gents had to follow. Just a few include:

  1. If you attended a dance, but did not dance, you faced scorn. Please note that Mr Darcy danced with Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst when he first appeared in Meryton, but that was his limit. He refused to be introduced to any other lady. How dreadful!
  2. Poor dancing, AKA two left feet, would make you an embarrassment to your partner. If you had this unfortunate affliction, it was deemed better for you not to attend a dance at all.
  3. Gents should not drag their partner through the dance, they should lead their partner.
  4. Females displaying boisterous behaviour and romping around the ballroom were considered indelicate and unladylike. Lydia Bennet, I’m looking at you.
  5. Never dance with someone unless you have been formally introduced.
  6. Ladies had to accept the offer of a dance from a gentleman to whom they had been introduced. To decline was ill-advised, and only permitted if a lady had a prior engagement to dance. If a lady did decline, then they faced being refused to dance for the rest of the evening. Harsh!

One thing Mallory doesn’t mention is the two-dance rule that seems to crop up in so many Regency romance novels. So, was that true? I clearly need to do further research. All I can say is that Mrs Bennet, much to Mr Bennet’s chagrin, says that at the Meryton ball Mr Bingley danced two dances with Jane Bennet. “Then the two third he danced with Miss King, and the two fourth with Maria Lucas, and the two fifth with Jane again.” So, he danced twice with Jane in the same evening, but never more than two dances at a time.

The Country Dances

There’s always a waltz in a Regency romance, and who can blame them? It’s the chance for the author to get the MCs up close and personal. The waltz shook up the nineteenth-century dance scene because it enabled what was seen as a scandalous degree of improper personal contact between ladies and gents. That did not prevent it from becoming one of the most popular dances at a ball.

Country dances took up the rest of the programme, such as the quadrille, which was danced by four couples in a square formation.

Dancing was also included in tea parties and my FMC, Sophie Woodforde, dances with a scoundrel in my short story for Tea with Austen.

I Can (or Could) Dance

Okay, it’s reveal time. Throughout my teenage years, I was a dancer. I can (or could) dance the country dances I write about. Well, I could have a go at the Scottish version of those country dances.

country dances
Scottish country dancing at the 2005 Skagit Valley Highland Games in Mount Vernon, Washington, US. © James F. Perry CC BY-SA 3.0 DEED

My dad is Scottish, and my brother and I had Highland dancing lessons. We also learned Scottish country dancing. We attended huge festivals where we danced with hundreds of others on open fields, and we did lots of displays for local organisations.

So, while there may be variations, I think I could do a half-decent job at a Regency ball (if muscle memory doesn’t fail me). I have medals and certificates to prove my former prowess on the Scottish country dancing scene: I can pas de basques, I can do the allemande, and I know what a strathspey travelling step is. You can find out more here.

My favourite dance was Petronella, which started with what we called “making a diamond”. I gave up dancing when I went to university, but it will always remain one of the most enjoyable things I did as a teen. I can’t believe I now draw upon those skills for my writing.

Can you dance and which form is your forte? Can you dance Elizabeth I’s favourite – the Volta? Be it ballroom, jazz, tap or modern – let me know in the comments.

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