Showing posts with label introductions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label introductions. Show all posts

Friday, March 11, 2016

To Have a Courtship, One Needs a Suitor

by Maria Grace

During the Georgian and Regency eras, marriage provided the key to a strong, stable society. Society identified individuals by their connections, the ones they were born with and the ones he or she merged through marriage. Laws surrounding marriage and inheritance insured for the privileged class that ancestral estates passed intact to the next generation. On a more personal level, family members, especially unmarried sisters and not-yet-widowed mothers, might look to the marriage of siblings and children as a source of security for their future.

For the gently bred female, marriage was the only acceptable occupation, and all aspects of her life reflected that fact. Her childhood would be spent quietly at home, sheltered from most social interactions, keeping her pure and untainted. At about the age of sixteen though, everything changed. The schoolroom was set aside, and she would be come-out into the world of the marriage market.

Preparing for Courtship: Becoming Accomplished


Prior to coming out, a young woman was not to call attention to herself. She dressed demurely, often with a deep-brimmed bonnet that hid her face. Young men in particular were not to pay her any notice. She would not speak to adults unless asked a question. Effectively she did not exist in society.

During her early years, a young woman’s focus would be directed toward learning those skills that would make her a marriageable woman: a social asset to a man and able to effectively run a household. She might be sent to school for a few years, after the age of ten, but often a governess or the girl’s mother handled her education from home.

To run a household, a girl needed to be able to read and write; elegant penmanship was of course a plus as her letters could be widely read. She would need to sew, with decorative needlework an added bonus. As the keeper of the household accounts, she needed sufficient understanding of mathematics to manage household ledgers. Gardening, food preservation, the work of servants and household remedies could also prove quite useful.

To be a social asset, and considered ‘accomplished’ a girl needed more. Singing and playing an instrument would allow her to entertain her husband’s guests. Her drawings and paintings would decorate her husband’s homes. By speaking French and possibly Italian, she could converse elegantly on the history, geography, literature and poetry with which she had been made familiar.

Girls were warned, though, to “be ever cautious in displaying your good sense. It will be thought you assume superiority over the rest of the company. But if you happen to have any learning, keep it a profound secret, especially from the men, who generally look with a jealous and malignant eye on a woman of great parts, and a cultivated understanding.” (Gregory, 1774)

Debut into Society

Although sometime between sixteen and eighteen was the common time for a girl to make her ‘come out’, the exact timing might vary depending on the status of other siblings, especially sisters. There was no hard and fast rule that a family have only one daughter ‘out’ at a time, however, for practical considerations, it was a common practice.

Being ‘out’ demanded both financial resources and the assistance of friends and connections to extend invitations and make introductions. A family with several daughters might easily be spread too thin if more than one girl were out at once. It also offered the embarrassing possibility that a younger daughter might receive an offer of marriage before the elder. So, younger sisters often waited until the elder was at least engaged, if not married, before coming out. But if an elder daughter had several seasons out without an engagement, parents might allow a younger girl to come out as well.

There was no single established way for a young woman to make her entry into society. Girls in the highest levels of society might expect to come out during the London season, starting around sometime after Christmas. She could anticipate a ball in her honor and an official presentation at court to the sovereign. Court presentation required a sponsor and a very specific (and expensive) presentation gown. A whirlwind of society events would follow, all in the hopes of attracting the notice of the right sort of gentleman.

Girls in lower social strata came out with somewhat less pomp and circumstance (and expense). A girl’s parents might plan a ball or party in her honor. In Jane Austen’s Mansfield Park, Fanny Price’s uncle held a ball in honor of her and her brother which marked her coming out.

A major event was not necessary, though. A mother might simply allow a girl to begin pinning up her hair (a sign of adulthood) and begin accompanying her on her morning calls and social events to indicate she was out in society. At these events, parents, friends and acquaintances would essentially show her off to potential suitors, for, once a girl was out, a courtship might begin at any time.

Meeting Potential Suitors


Being ‘out’ allowed a girl to establish formal acquaintances. Until a formal acquaintance was recognized, individuals could not interact. Formal introductions by, a third party acquainted with both were essential.

Neighborhood matrons, and parsons’ wives, having a wide range of connections, were in especially good positions to affect introductions between young people at social events, both public and private. Dinners and parties, feasts, festivals, even wakes, provided opportunities for introductions. At a public ball, the Master of Ceremonies could conduct this service to enable gentleman and ladies to dance, though he might not be acquainted with either party.

Though it might seem cumbersome to modern sensibilities, introductions provided a means by which young ladies might have some control of social interactions. The men had the power of “chusing whom they may address, and (women) of rejecting whom they may dislike.” (Gener, 1812)

Young ladies needed this option as not all acquaintances might pursue noble design. Not surprisingly, women of fortune were particular objects of pursuit, especially by younger sons not eligible to inherit the family estate. One such man, under the pen name of ‘A Younger Brother’, went so far as to publish, A Master-Key to the Rich Ladies Treasury or The Widower and Batchelor’s Directory in 1742.

The book contained a list of London heiresses, their expected fortune and the general location of their residence. The Younger Brother advised:

“Thus Gentlemen, have I in the following Sheets I think, opened a fair Field for Action for you; a fine Choice and a fine Collection of Ladies; — Open the Campaign directly then yourselves, that my next may be a new Sett. I have one favour to beg of you, and then I take my Leave; that no one of you, of what Degree soever, presume to attempt the Lovely Charmer I dedicate to; as to the Rest, I heartily wish you all Success …”

An Alternative to Traditional Introductions

Not everyone enjoyed success in the efforts to meet prospective suitors. Some lacked the family or social connections to do so. Others simply desired an economical alternative to the marriage mart. For them, matrimonial advertisements could provide the solution. Though some viewed the practice as anything from indelicate to dangerous, men and women from every age group and social class placed advisements.

Some advertisements emphasized the seeker: a woman of considerable accomplishments and easy independency, a man of respectable rank. While others requested specific characteristics for the applicant: an income equal to his/her own, age not less than 30, no more than 35, an agreeable partner. Meetings might be arranged by a third party or by the matrimonial advertiser him or herself. A single interview might be all that was required to secure a proposal of marriage.


It comes as no surprise that matrimonial advertisements were not always safe. The sensational 1827 case of the Red Barn Murderer, William Corder, involved a marriage through just such an advertisement. His wife, Mary Moore, who met him through an ad in the Morning Herald, discovered he had murdered his previous lover and buried her body in a barn.

Despite the risks, the difficulties of introductions and courtships insured matrimonial advertisements continued as a popular way to find a marriage partner.

For the more traditionally minded, once a suitable introduction was made, a courtship might begin. The next installment of this series will examine the extensive rules governing courtships in the Regency era.

References

A Master-Key to the Rich Ladies Treasury or The Widower and Batchelor’s Directory by a Younger Brother, published in 1742.

Gener, S., and John Muckersy. M. Gener, Or, A Selection of Letters on Life and Manners. 3rd ed. Edinburgh: Printed for Peter Hill ..., A. Constable & and A. MacKay ;, 1812.

Gregory, John. A Father's Legacy to His Daughters By the Late Dr. Gregory, of Edinburgh. The 2nd ed. London: Printed for W. Strahan ;, 1774.

M. Y. Some Remarks on Matrimonial Advertisements Being an Inquiry into their Use and Abuse. London: Sedding and Turtle, 1832.

Morning Post, November 27, 1811.

Morning Post, December 19, 1822.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Maria Grace is the author of Darcy's Decision,  The Future Mrs. Darcy, All the Appearance of Goodness, and Twelfth Night at LongbournRemember the Past, and Mistaking Her CharacterClick here to find her books on Amazon. For more on her writing and other Random Bits of Fascination, visit her website. You can also like her on Facebook, follow on Twitter or email her.

Sunday, May 10, 2015

First Hand from the Ballroom

by Maria Grace

Balls and assemblies form a regular feature of Georgian and Regency era historical novels. Often heroes and heroines meet, flirt, fight, and even fall in love on the ball room floor. But when watching videos of actual period dance, the first question on viewers’ minds is with such active and complicated dances, how did any communication take place?

My husband and I joined an English Country Dance group a couple of months before their big spring ball event. We attended two balls in the course of just a month. The experience offered a wealth of perspective on the myriad ways that period heroes and heroines might interact on a ball room floor.

Though these dances require a partner, dances are generally not done by individual couples, but by couples in lines, groups of three or four couples, or circles. So, individual dancers interact not only with their partners, but with at least one other couple, and possibly every dancer in their set.

What do those interactions look like? To start the dance, the Master of Ceremonies (today the position is known as the caller) announces the dance and what formation is required. The modern caller guides the dancers through the steps, not unlike a square dance caller, however, in the era this was not done. Dancers were expected to know the steps to the dances. How was it possible for dancers to know the steps to all the dances that might have been called? It sounds like a daunting and overwhelming task.

During the period, yearly dance books like Preston's 24 Country Dances for the Year 1803 were published containing the music and dance steps for that year. Dance masters would use those books to teach their students the year’s dances. This helped insure common and well-known dances would be performed at public assemblies.


Most dances were built from a known array of standard steps. These steps included simple maneuvers like: partners turn by the right hand and two couples all join right hands and turn once around. Complex movements like figure eights, ‘hays’ and dancing down the set also had a place in the lexicon. (See the 'Hunt the Squiril' video later in this post.)

In many of the line-based dances, couples would ‘take hands four from the top’, that is they would form groups of two couples who would dance together for one repetition of the music. In simple dances, both couples would perform the same steps throughout the dance. More complicated dances might have the first and second couples executing completely different steps with one more complex than the other. Mr. Beveridges Maggot (featured in recent movie adaptations of both Austen’s Pride and Prejudice and Emma) is one such dance. At the end of that repetition, the final steps ‘progress’ couples into new groups of four, first couples moving down the set to be first couple in the group one down from their previous position, and second couples moving up.



In order for progression to work, couples at the top and bottom of the set would wait out a repetition of the music and not dance. This waiting out period offered a prime opportunity for couples to interact relatively privately on the dance floor. 

In the span of a several minutes long repetition, dancers might exchange pleasantries, flirtations, or even cross words. Whatever their conversation, though, they still had to pay attention to the music and other dancers so as not to miss their entry back into the set. At the next repetition they would rejoin the set, switching their role in the dance from first to second or second to first couple. Less experienced dancers might use the opportunity to refresh themselves on the new steps that may be required of them as they came into the set.

Not all dances offered these ‘time out’ periods. Circle dances and those done in sets of two or three couples required dancers to participate constantly, so little or no conversation might take place. Even so, a great deal of dance floor communication was possible without dialogue.

These exchanges would begin with being asked to dance. In the era, a gentleman could not ask a lady to dance unless they had been formally introduced. A chaperone, other acquaintance, or Master of Ceremonies could introduce potential dance partners during the ball to enable them to dance together. Couples, unless engaged or married, did not dance more than two dances together, so many partners might be required for an entire evening of dance.

Since dancers would engage with not only their partner, but other couples, it was possible to connect with many people while dancing a single dance. Mixer dances, like the Indian Princess, capitalized on this effect, with dancers switching partners frequently, oftentimes enabling dancers to ‘sample’ every partner on the floor. These could provide an excellent opportunity to scope out partners for future sets, particular if a one was looking for someone of a particular skill level or personality to pair with.



Although seemingly simple, the way one might be asked to dance spoke volumes. The offer might be made with eye contact and a quick gesture toward the dance floor; a smile, a bow and flowery words; a sweaty palmed, stammered request; or even a shrug and an eye roll of ‘well, I suppose you will do.’ All these offers set and color the stage for a series of silent communications on the dance floor. In cases where women drastically outnumbered the men, a Master of Ceremonies might allow women to dance with other women. Clearly not a desirable situation, but one that Jane Austen references when Mr. Bennet upbraids Kitty that she might not attend another assembly unless she ‘stands up with her sisters’. In other words, she would be restricted to dancing with her sisters only, a sad fate for the poor girl.

Eye contact plays a huge role in dance floor tete-a-tetes . Some partners engage in constant eye contact, holding their partners with their gaze in an almost physical grip. From a practical standpoint, the eye contact is a useful way to stave off dizziness in a dance that requires many rapid turns. At the same time though, such interchanges can become demanding and intimate, isolating the couple in a room full of people. Other partners offer little in the way of eye contact, even to the point of avoiding any direct gaze with their partner. An avoidant partner can communicate a variety of things from their own insecurity with the dance steps to distain for their partner, all without uttering a single word.

Subtle physical contact, usually restricted to taking hands or joining arms at the elbow for a turn, also speaks volumes when words are not possible. Hands might be taken, barely touching and only as long as necessary, or held reverently, lingering as long as possible in the connection.

The way partners dance together creates a conversation of facial expression and body language as eloquent as the finest speeches. A more experienced dancer can subtly and patiently assist a less certain dancer through complex steps with glances and subtle gestures, encouraging and praising with eyes and smiles. Conversely, experienced dancers can declare distain and even judgment on a struggling dancer even to the point of rough pushing or pulling that dancer into their correct position. Depending on the distraction created, the experience can be entirely humiliating.

Partners who are equally anxious about getting the steps right, and good humored in their anxiety, can assist one another, laugh at missteps, and celebrate their victorious achievements as they progress through a series of complicated steps. The experience has the potential to be very revealing of characters and offers a time for bonding over a shared challenge. A gentleman might even kiss a lady’s hand after surviving such a trial—a most romantic gesture indeed.

When two proficient dancers partner, the flow of their coordinated movements creates a connection between the dancers, bonding them in purpose and action. The communication and energy flowing between them can be visceral and compelling, poignant as the deepest conversation. No wonder young men often called upon their primary dance partner the next day.

Each dance itself possesses its own character, some being staid and elegant and others playful and flirtatious. Mr. Belvridge’s Maggot is dignified and elegant, befitting a somber, formal occasion. Lord Byron’s Maggot—by the way, a maggot referred to a catchy tune, what we would today call an ‘ear worm’—suits its name sake. One set of steps involved the woman from the first couple approaching the man from the second couple with a flirtatious ‘come hither’ beckon to follow her. The second couple’s woman did the same with the first couple’s man. These suggestive moves could be made as token gestures or with sincere energy. Similarly, the playful ‘pat-a-cake’ moves later in the dance offered an ideal opportunity for more flirtation.




The complicated, three couple dance, Hunt the Squiril required the first couple to chase each other, weaving through the other dancers. The chase could provide a playful opportunity for couples to express their interest (or lack thereof) in one another as they pursued one another.



In an era in which conversation was restricted to ‘polite’ topics and interactions between unmarried individuals were strictly chaperoned, the dance floor offered the one place where such open expression was considered acceptable. There individuals could be dramatic, funny and flirtatious without censure from society at large—provided of course that they did not take their self-expression too far. Therein lays the power and allure of the dancefloor for the Regency era hero and heroine, for there alone might they expression what they could not say directly.


~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Maria Grace is the author of Darcy's Decision,  The Future Mrs. Darcy, All the Appearance of Goodness, and Twelfth Night at Longbourn and Remember the PastClick here to find her books on Amazon. For more on her writing and other Random Bits of Fascination, visit her website. You can also like her on Facebook, follow on Twitter or email her.