Finding the mention of dancing a Kentucky Reel in the actress Fanny Kemble's first memoir, Journal of a residence in America (Paris, 1835), inspired me to do a careful reading of the entire book to look for other dance references.
American dance manuals for the 1820s and 1830s are relatively scarce, and sources like diaries and letters are in any case superior since they describe what was actually done, rather than what dancing masters wanted done. Kemble's memoir, based on the daily journal she kept during her travels, adds an extra dimension. As an Englishwoman raised in France, she can comment not only on what she danced in America during her visit but also on how it differed from practices on the other side of the Atlantic. The Journal covers 1832-1833, and it was published only a few years later, so it is less subject to the vagaries of long-term memory than some of her later memoirs.
Although the Journal is more than three hundred pages in print, reading it turned out to be no chore. Kemble was an excellent writer, despite using all the typical verbal curlicues of the nineteenth century, and her observations on American society and her experiences as a traveling actress are often keenly interesting. Her blow-by-blow description of a disastrous death scene in a performance of Romeo and Juliet is one of the funniest theatrical anecdotes I've ever read, and her comments on American politics are still relevant today. Her observations about the divisions in the nation and the likelihood of war between the north and south were surprisingly prescient. I highly recommend the Journal as entertaining reading for anyone interested in theatrical history or in American society in the early 1830s. The entire Journal in one volume is online at the Internet Archive.
Here, however, I am going to concentrate on Kemble's references to dance.
Fanny Kemble; her father, Charles; and her aunt, Mrs. Dall, traveled to America in 1832 for a two-year stay, in part to escape from Charles' precarious financial situation. Fanny was not an enthusiastic actress, but considered it part of her duty to her family to pursue the profession. She was well familiar with its vagaries, as she was not only the daughter of an actor but also the niece of the actors John Kemble and Sarah Siddons. She had first debuted on the stage only in 1829, at the age of 20, but was an immediate hit and quite well-paid. In 1834, she would marry an American and retire temporarily from the stage.
While Kemble was a dedicated diarist, writing long entries almost every day for the first few months of the trip and regularly thereafter, she notes early on that the Journal is necessarily limited in scope as a description of American society, as she traveled only in the northeast. When preparing the journal for publication, she added extensive footnotes, some of a scope to rival the notoriously lengthy ones in Regency dancing master Thomas Wilson's The Danciad (London, 1824).
A quick summary of the dance references in the journal:
- genres of dances mentioned include quadrilles, waltz, gallopade [sic], reels, and country dances
- specific dances include La Boulangère, a Kentucky reel, a foursome reel, and a monaco
- comments on quadrilles include that the Trénis figure is not usually danced (presumably, Pastourelle is substituted) and that quadrilles generally end with a fancy [promiscuous] figure called by the leader of the band, frequently resulting in chaos
- the waltz scandalized a certain doctor (probably a clergyman, not a physician) to the point where he convinced Kemble to dance it only with other women or her brothers. She later danced it with women at a party.
- most dancing took place at small parties, and it was often impromptu, sometimes irritating Kemble, since she had not been dressed for dancing. Overheated rooms were also a regular complaint, both at dances and otherwise.
- she attended actual balls in Philadelphia in late 1832 and early 1833, but she does not describe them in detail, merely noting that the floors were chalked (with patterns within which the quadrille sets would form) and the music very good.
The specific references, in chronological order, with comments, follow.
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Kemble left England in the August of 1832 aboard the ship Pacific. Besides herself and her aunt, there were only three other women of good society aboard, though there may have been more in steerage. The upper-deck passengers were a sociable bunch, and while much of her time was taken up by her studies in German and Italian, her journal writing, and her needlework, Kemble made time to join her fellow passengers in their pastimes, including, some evenings, shipboard dancing. While she sometimes mentions the gentlemen dancing and carousing on their own, once keeping her awake late at night, there were times when the dancing included the ladies as well.
On Monday, August 20th, she described her afternoon and evening as:
Wrote journal, walked about, worked at my cap, in the evening danced merrily enough, quadrilles, country dances, La Boulangère, and the monaco; fairly danced myself tired.
The Boulangère, of course, is one of the "finishing dances" of an English ball, famous nowadays for having been mentioned by Jane Austen in Pride and Prejudice. It was of French descent, and Kemble might have learned it either in England or at school in France.
The reference to the monaco is a little less clear. A Monaco appears in Collinet's Recueil Unique (Paris, c1820) as a two-figure quadrille, but the music is from a cotillion, probably imported from France in England as early as the 1780s, a version of which appears as a quadrille figure in America in the 1810s. It's hard to say what a group of English dancers on a ship in 1832 would have danced.
Other references to dance on board were vague, but the frequency suggests a regular pastime.
On August 22nd:
After working for some time more, came on deck, where we danced with infinite glee...
And the 23rd:
After dinner, walked about -- danced -- saw the sun sink in a bed of gorgeous stormy clouds; -- worked and walked till bed-time.
On September 2nd,
After dinner sat in my cabin some time -- walked on deck; when the gentlemen joined us, we danced the sun down, and the moon up.
On the third, as they arrived in New York, a pilot from the pilot-boat came on board to steer the ship into harbor, relieving the young captain of responsibility and freeing him to socialize:
the captain gave up the cares and glories of command, and we danced an interminable country dance.
Country dances of the early nineteenth century could indeed be very lengthy.
Once ashore, in their New York City hotel, they still amused themselves with informal dancing with their former fellow-passengers. On September 4th:
Came up for coffee; most of the gentlemen were rather elated, -- we sang, and danced, and talked, and seemed exceeding loath to say good-by.
When they saw some of their friends off on a steamboat on September 5th, they found its state cabin enormous. While the galop or galopade is not otherwise recorded in the Journal, Kemble's casual mention of it suggests that it was quite familiar to her:
We saw them on board, went down and looked at the state cabin, which was a magnificent room, and would have done charmingly for a gallopade.
There is also a later reference, in her entry for September 9th, to a visit by a former shipmate:
Our ship-mate, Mr. ----, called: I was glad to see him. Poor man! how we did reel him off his legs to be sure, -- what fun it was!
That might have been the Kentucky Reel, or a foursome reel, perhaps when they "danced the sun down, and the moon up".
In a lengthy footnote to her entry of October 17th, Kemble used dance to comment negatively on the lack of intellectual vigor of the "best" society of New York and Philadelphia:
If I were called upon to define that society in New York and Philadelphia which ranks (by right of self-arrogation) as first and best, I should say it is a purely dancing society, where a fiddle is indispensable to keep its members awake; and where their brains and tongue seem, by common consent, to feel that they had much better give up the care of mutual entertainment to the feet of the parties assembled, and they judge well.
Kemble went on to explain that there was better-quality society outside what was considered most socially prominent.
In New York, on November 21st, at a small party at a private residence, Kemble scandalized a doctor by dancing the waltz, as well as quadrilles, the Kentucky Reel, and foursome reel.
After a little time dancing was proposed; and I stood up to waltz with Mr. ----, who observed that Dr. ---- wa gone, as he never chose to be present while waltzing was going on. I felt shocked to death that unconsciously I should have been instrumental in driving him away, and much surprised that those who knew his disapprobation of waltzing should have proposed it. However, he was gone, and did not return. Therefore I waltzed myself out of my conscientious remorse. Sang them Fanny Gray, and Ye Mariners of Spain. Danced sundry quadrilles; and, finally, what they called a Kentucky reel, -- which is nothing more than Sir Roger de Coverley turned Backwoodsman -- and afterwards a "foursome reel." Played magic music; and, finally, at one o'clock, came home, having danced myself fairly off my legs.
I discussed a Kentucky Reel from later in the nineteenth century at length here. A foursome reel is the classic reel for four, alternating eight bars of reeling (hey for four) and eight bars of fancy setting steps.
On the 22nd, the doctor expressed his disapproval, and Kemble vowed to no longer waltz with unrelated men. The objections expressed are the same as those of people scandalized by waltz back in the 1810s:
Dr. ---- called, and gave me a sermon about waltzing. As it was perfectly good sense, to which I could reply nothing whatever in the shape of objection, I promised him never to waltz again, except with a woman, or my brother.
After all, 't is not fitting that a man should put his arm round one's waist, whether one belongs to any one but one's self or not. 'T is much against what I have always thought most sacred, -- the dignity of a woman in her own eyes and those of others...After saying that [the doctor] felt convinced, from conversations which he had heart amongst men, that waltzing was immoral in its tendency, he added, "I am married, and have been in love, and cannot imagine any thing more destructive of the deep and devoted respect which love is calculated to excite in every honourable man's heart, not only for the individual object of his affections, but for her whole sex, than to see any and every impertinent coxcomb in a ball-room come up to her, and, without remorse of hesitation, clasp her waist, imprison her hand, and absolutely whirl her round in his arms." So spake the Doctor; and my sense of propriety and conviction of right bore testimony to the truth of his saying. So farewell, sweet German waltz! -- next to hock, the most intoxicating growth of the Rheinland. I shall never keep time to your pleasant measure again! -- no matter; after all, any thing is better than to be lightly spoken of, and to deserve such mention.
On November 24th, Kemble's resolve was tested at a dinner party, and there is a rare mention of women dancing together socially:
By and by dancing was proposed, and I was much entreated and implored to change my determination about waltzing; but I was inexorable, and waltzed only with the ladies, who one and all dance extremely well...We danced a Kentucky reel, and sundry quadrilles.
One gentleman was tipsy, and
meandered about the room, to the infinite dismay and confusion of the whole dance. Vain were the vigorous exertions of his partner, who pulled him this way and that, and pushed him hither and thither, to all which the unresisting creature submitted incorrigibly.
They danced until half-past midnight.
At another small party on November 28th, the company was not particularly accomplished at the quadrille:
We stood up to dance a couple of quadrilles; but as they had not one distinct idea of what the figures were, the whole was a mess of running about, explaining, jostling, and awkward blundering.
In a detailed footnote, Kemble talked about the differences in quadrille practice between Paris and London and America:
The established succession of figures which form the one French quadrille, in executing which the ball-rooms of Paris and London have spent so many satisfactory hours ever since it was invented, by no means satisfies the Americans. At the close of almost every quadrille, a fancy figure is danced, which, depending entirely upon the directions of the leader of the band, is a very curious medley of all the rest. The company not being gifted with second sight, and of course not knowing at every step what next they may be called upon to do, go fearfully sliding along, looking at each other, asking, "how does it go on?" some en avant deux-ing, while others are starting off en promenade, the whole being a complete confusion of purpose and execution. The common French figure, the Trénis, is very seldom danced at all, -- they do not appear to know it.
The fancy figures might have included relatively well-known ones such as the Gavotte; Minuet; or Basket, or been improvised entirely on the spot by the bandleader-caller.
On November 30th, she and her aunt proceeded to a party after half-past nine, where she discovered, to her dismay, not being dressed for it, that there would be dancing, and complained:
The people here never tell one when they mean to dance; the consequence is, that one is completely put out about one's toilet. I was in a black satin dress; and dancing in these hot rooms, might as well have been in a pall.
Despite this:
I danced myself half dead, and came home.
Kemble really loved dancing.
In Philadelphia on December 4th, she went to the theatre to see her father, after which they proceeded on to yet another small party, which was crowded and overheated:
I had on the same dress I wore at Devonshire House, the night of the last ball I was at in England...We proceeded to Miss ----'s, and this tea-party turned out to be a very crowded dance, in small rooms upon carpets, and with a roasting fire. Was introduced to all the world and his wife. Dr. ---- claimed acquaintance with us, and danced with me: I like his manners very much. I have beheld Miss ----, and should doubtless now depart in peace.
Lord! Lord! what fools men and women do make themselves. Was introduced to one Mr. ----, Mr. ----'s partner, whom I received graciously for the sake of the good days on board the Pacific Came away at a little after twelve. I have never felt any thing like the heat of the rooms...
An actual ball took place on December 21st or 22nd, when Kemble, sadly, skipped writing in her journal,
thereby omitting an account of an interesting ball at Mrs. ----'s, where the floors were duly chalked, the music very good, the women very lovely, and where I fell in again with my dear kinsman, whom I love devotedly, and whom I jumped half across a quadrille to greet with extended hands, which must greatly have edified the whole assembly.
A final reference, once again in Philly, indicates that there was a ball on January 29th, 1833, as on January 30th Kemble mentions:
Finished journal; dined at half-past three: after dinner, went and sat with Mrs. ---- One Mr. ----, a Boston man who was at Mrs. ----'s ball last night, was in her room. I was introduced to him, and he spoke of the ----s.
The journal continues for another hundred or so pages as Kemble and her father travel to Boston and then to upstate New York. There are many fine descriptions of nature, concluding with Niagara Falls, but no further mentions of dancing.
Kemble continued to write, and later published memoirs covering her girlhood and much of her life after 1833. I plan to read the girlhood memoir next, and eventually continue on to the others.
...nice phrase, "danced the sun up and the moon down"....but isn't it backwards?
Posted by: rc | October 11, 2016 at 09:55 PM
Oops, yes. My typo, and I've now fixed it to match the phrase as quoted earlier in the post. Thanks for the catch!
Posted by: Susan de Guardiola | October 23, 2016 at 07:05 AM
Thank you so much for writing this piece :). It is the most specific and best source of information on 1830's American dance I've read so far.
Posted by: Jensine Varens | January 06, 2017 at 07:30 AM