Capering & Kickery

Leap Year figure, Washington, D. C., 1892

Not having any more convenient descriptions of cotillion (dance party game) figures with leap year themes in books of such figures, I have to take them where I find them -- in this case, in a description of a society leap year ball attended by no fewer than seven foreign ministers of different nations held in Washington, D. C., on March 24, 1892.  The ball was described briefly in The New York Times on March 25, 1892.  The majority of the short article is taken up by lengthy lists of all the important people who organized and attended the event, but in between, there is a description of a cotillion figure.  Interestingly, it was led by two couples simultaneously, from "opposite ends of the hall". 

Dancing was general until 9:30 o’clock, when the cotillion began, led from opposite ends of the hall by Miss Richardson with Mr. William Slack and Miss Stout with Mr. Clifford Richardson.  In the selection of the favors the greatest ingenuity had been exercised, and the laughter-provoking devices were highly satisfactory.  

Perhaps, sensible of the number of people attending, they were actually running two cotillions in parallel?

"The Leap Year Ball": a poem, 1896

Before getting back to detailed newspaper descriptions of leap year balls, here's a less detailed but still useful description of one in the form of a very mediocre poem.  It was published on page three of the Oakdale Leader, in Oakdale, California, on Friday, February 14th, 1896.  

The leap year elements mentioned specifically in the poem are:

• the ladies "managing" things and taking the author into the ballroom
• the "beaux" sitting in a row waiting for partners and the ladies rushing to find one, making sure no one was left out
• Fannie and Julia as some sort of ball organizers or floor managers, wearing badges and making sure things went smoothly
• a lady acting as treasurer and, by implication, asking the author to dance

I admit to cynically feeling that the ladies being concerned that none of the "gints" were slighted was showing more care for their feelings than many gentlemen showed for those of ladies when in conventional roles -- the ladies were perhaps deliberately setting an example for the gentlemen of how they wished to be treated.

A Valentine Party, 1891

The fourth in a very occasional series of short descriptions of specialty dance events from the pages of the 1890-1891 volume of Demorest's Family Magazine.  Like the tidbit about the thé dansante, this short description of a party-opening cotillion (in the dance party game sense) is drawn from the "Chat" column of the February, 1891, issue.  The theme, of course, is Valentine's Day!

The original text from Demorest's:

A Valentine Party, for which invitations are already out, promises to be a unique affair.  There are but twenty persons invited, ten ladies and ten gentlemen, all well acquainted, and each has been requested to bring an original valentine, which must be included in the envelope furnished by the hostess and already superscribed "To my Valentine."  On arriving, the guests will find in each dressing-room a bunch of ribbons of different colors, also a heart-shaped bag.  A ribbon is to be tied around each valentine, which is then to be deposited in the bag, through a slit at the top.  After all are assembled, two children, dressed as Cupids, will act as postmen, delivering the valentines from the gentlemen's bag to the ladies, and from the ladies' bag to the gentlemen.  The valentines are then to be read aloud by the person receiving them (being considered as written expressly for them), and a vote taken to decide on the two best (one by a lady and one by a gentleman) from a literary point of view, the two wittiest, and the two most sentimental, and prizes given to the writer of each.  The prizes are to be silver-mounted cushions, photograph frames, and mirrors for the ladies, and scarf-pins, pocket-cushions, and silver-mounted penwipers for the gentlemen, all heart-shaped.  The refreshments are to be served at small heart-shaped tables, and afterward there will be dancing, those having matching ribbons to be partners for the first dance.

     -- Demorest's Family Magazine, Volume XXVII, No. 4, February, 1891, p. 245

 

Dorothea: a 1912 march figure

"Dorothea" is a full choreographed march taken from H. Layton Walker's Twentieth Century Cotillion Figures (Two Step Publishing Company, Buffalo, New York, 1912).  It combines some standard march figures used in unusual ways with less standard ones and enough mixer elements that it also qualifies as a fun cotillion (dance party game). 

Like many figures in Walker's book, this one probably originated elsewhere.  I don't know where, and I don't know the significance of the name.  But how could I possibly resist a march whose creator fully expected it to devolve into chaos at the end?    

"...when the dancers have become helplessly tangled at the sides of the room, trying to find out where to go next..."

It's comforting to know that if the figure goes terribly wrong the caller can just skip to the end and claim it was planned!  

It is not at all comforting, however, for the first diagram to present a problem.

A Young Mothers' Reception, 1891

In honor of Mother's Day in the USA, another specialized (and much smaller) dance event from the pages of the October, 1891, issue of Demorest's Family Magazine:

A young mothers' reception, with dancing, is the unique entertainment to which only young married couples are invited.  Round dances are tabooed, and what time can be spared from the discussion of the charms and precocious sayings and doings of their little ones is devoted to sedate square dances.  To give a little touch of piquancy to the affair, partners are selected by favors, children's toys being used for the purpose.  The following day the guests call on the hostess, with their children.
            -- Demorest's Family Magazine, Volume XXVII, No. 12, October, 1891, p. 756

This brief description appeared in a "Chat" column which primarily covered the decor of several autumn-themed events (the "Dahlia Tennis Court" was my favorite).

Lyra Figures, 1912

Image courtesy of The Graphics Fairy

The "Lyra Figures", a fancy march cotillion (dance party game) in which the columns of dancers outline the shape of a lyre within a wreath, were published in Twentieth Century Cotillion Figures, by H. Layton Walker (Two Step Publishing Company, Buffalo, New York, 1912).  I suspect that, like the Winthrop(e), they were copied from some other source, but I do not currently have any idea what it might have been. 

This figure would be somewhat difficult for a ball preceptor to lead "cold", at least without multiple floor managers, but with a lead couple who knew the track, it wouldn't be all that difficult.  After a simple march-around lead-in, the leading lady and gentleman stay on their own sides of the room, leading their lines up and down curving tracks to form the shape of the lyre.  It might even work with only a single knowledgeable dancer, if their partner were good at moving in mirror image and the room not too crowded for them to see each other at opposite sides.  At the end, there is a simple march by platoons to end in facing lines for a waltz or other couple dance.

Trouping the Colors

This is a bit of a thematic reach, but in honor of America's Independence Day, here's a simple cotillion mixer figure featuring American flags.  It is taken from H. Layton Walker's Twentieth Century Cotillion Figures, (Buffalo, NY: Two Step Publishing Company, 1912), which compiled figures from a variety of different sources.  The diagram at left is from Walker, in which it is arranged for fifty-seven couples, but the figure can easily be performed by a smaller (or larger) number.

The essence of the figure is to divide the dancing couples into groups of increasing size, with each group in turn (smallest to largest) first two-stepping and then, at a signal, forming a circle as the next group begins to dance.  Each new circle forms around the previous one(s) and circles in the opposite direction.  Once each group is circling, a signal starts the dancers doing a grand right and left in their own circle -- this is the mixer element -- and then, at the last signal, taking the person they are now facing as their partner for a final two-step.

Pittsburgh Star, 1912

Like the Winthrop(e), the Pittsburgh Star is a cotillion (dance party game) figure in the guise of a march sequence which was published in H. Layton Walker's Twentieth Century Cotillion Figures (Two Step Publishing Company, Buffalo, New York, 1912).  It was most likely copied from some other source; based on the apparent origin of the Winthrop, the original might have appeared in a publication of the National Association of Dancing Masters after a meeting in Pittsburgh. 

The Pittsburgh Star differs from the Winthrop, however, in incorporating the mixer element into the march sequence, which I find more interesting as a figure, rather than by having the dancers seek new partners before beginning the march.

Here are the original instructions for the figure followed by the two diagrams.  Note when reading the directions that "up" is toward the bottom of the diagrams.

PITTSBURGH STAR.
All two-step.  Signal, all march up centre of hall.  All mark time when in middle.  First couple forward in line of direction.  Second couple turn to right; second [third] couple turn to left.  Repeat this until four couples are in front, four on right side, four on left side, and four in back.  This forms the cross.  The four couples in back now wheel round and face other way, thus: [diagram on left]  Now, in single file, [ladies] march to right, gentlemen to left, meeting and going to centre, forming thus: [diagram on right] and all two-step with that person.

I corrected "second" with [third] where it was needed and interpolated [ladies] where it was obvious from the diagrams that it had been left out.

A Pumpkin Party 1890

A Pumpkin Party may seem misplaced in the calendar at this point, but this is specifically a Thanksgiving pumpkin party, taking place the evening of Thanksgiving Day, so it should be considered more like pumpkin pie and less like a jack-o-lantern, though there's definitely an element of that in the theme as well.  The overall concept is more harvest than Halloween, however, similar to the Red Ear Party except more, err, orange.

The description of the party -- possibly, but not necessarily, fictional -- was published in Demorest's Family Magazine, No. CCCXXIX, Vol. XXVII, No. 1, dated November 1890.  Demorest's began as a fashion magazine but expanded to include a wide range of material, including quite a few little dance tidbits.

The pumpkin theme began from the very start, with the invitations, which were sent on "pumpkin-colored round cards".  The party was held in a "pretty little stone barn and stable" with illuminated "pumpkin lanterns of all shapes and devices, some wearing the old familiar goblin-like 'eyes, nose, and mouth.' while others were cut in stars and flowers and geometrical designs."  This is, quite literally, a barn dance.

Wandering around in the dark, 1912

Since wandering around with small lanterns in a dark room looking for people to dance with also seems like a suitable spooky, or at least entertaining, activity for Halloween balls and cotillion parties, here are another pair of cotillion figures from H. Layton Walker's Twentieth Century Cotillion Figures (Two Step Publishing Company, Buffalo, New York, 1912) that feature that very activity!

These are both simple mixer figures in which pairs of ladies and gentlemen must find their designated match, either by number or by name.  

1. LANTERN FIGURE.  Original description:

Palm Fronds and Canary Warblers, 1912

Along with masquerade and fancy dress balls and costumes, the other topic I generally include in October is suitably wacky cotillion figures, dance party games that could be part of the final section of a ball or of a stand-alone event.  Most of them are simple mixers, but I have a gleeful passion for the stranger ones that involve costumes or props or simply strike me as delightfully weird.  Here are a couple of the latter, both taken from H. Layton Walker's Twentieth Century Cotillion Figures (Two Step Publishing Company, Buffalo, New York, 1912).

1. Human Palm Trees.  Original description:

Leap Year Cotillion Figure

For a change of pace, here's a leap year-themed cotillion (dance party game) figure from H. Layton Walker's  Twentieth Century Cotillion Figures (Two Step Publishing Company, Buffalo, New York, 1912).  I think the only "leap year" element in it is that the ladies pursue the gentlemen, rather than the reverse. 

Here's the original text:

LEAP YEAR FIGURE
For this figure you will require one more gentleman than you do ladies.  An extra man is required to put on a paper shroud.  This figure can be used for any number of couples, but it is always necessary to have an extra gentleman up.  Couples up and dance.  When they have danced a little while, form a circle, and grand right and left, the leader getting into the circle and when all dance the leader must secure one of the ladies.  This will leave one of the gents out.  He is "It," and goes to the centre to receive this paper suit.  The ladies all receive a large ring having a tissue covering over it.  Get another lady who is not in the figure, so that you will also have an odd lady up.  She also receives one of the hoops.  Now ask the ladies to catch a man.  As there are not enough men for all the ladies the one who does not succeed in getting a man will have to contend [sic] herself by dancing with the dummy.

It took me a moment to sort this out because of how badly written the instructions are.  The first three sentences can be ignored.  Here's how it works:

A Leap Year Ball, Providence, 1892

Moving from the American frontier back to the east coast and into increasingly amusing descriptions of leap year events, here's a very upscale event held in Providence, Rhode Island, on Monday, February 29, 1892, and reported in The Providence News on Tuesday, March 1.  This was a much more glittering affair than the frontier balls in Montana and Wyoming.  According to the article, subscriptions to the ball cost $25 for eight invitations, and the German (cotillion) favors cost an estimated $900.  In today's terms, that is around $700 for the tickets and an eye-popping $25,000 for the favors, which were always an opportunity for conspicuous consumption among upper-class society.

The ball was held at the brand-new Trocadero (1891), which, according to Providence's inventory in 1980 for the National Register of Historic Places, was a restaurant and dancing parlor owned by local businessman Lloyd Tillinghast, who also provided the ball supper, served on "small and beautifully decked tables" by waiters brought in from Boston and New York.  The Trocadero no longer stands, alas.  Two bands were engaged: Reeves' Band and the "Hungarian band of New York", who alternated playing. 

Sadly, no dance list was included in the article, but the cotillion was described briefly:

Miss Goddard and Miss Gammell, who arranged the ball, led the cotillon.  At least eighty couples participated and the figures and the favors were greeted with equal admiration.  Flowers, ribbon bows and streamers, bells, odd bits of jewelry and bright-hued balloons were among them.

 

Wings, 1912

Here's a costume-oriented cotillion figure from Twentieth Century Cotillion Figures, by H. Layton Walker (Two Step Publishing Company, Buffalo, New York, 1912) that is missing its dance instructions:

Wings.
These are to be about two feet long and made on wire of crepe paper, painted with gold, and as they are made in all colors, it is intended that they should match the color of the gown of each dancer and so present a perfectly harmonious ensemble.  A heavy hook is fastened where the two wings join, so that they may be attached to the end of the decolletage of the black [sic] of the bodice of each terpsichorean flower, thus prematurely precipitating these mundane possessors into their angel (so-called) possessions.  Crimped paper in every shade is made to assimilate the neck ruches of liberty silk and mousseline de soie, now so much worn, and these also make a pleasing medium of exchange of friendliness, yes, of something stronger oftimes. among those participating in the dance.  Silver and gold pencil holders are also used for this purpose, making not only an ornamental but a useful present to ladies as well as to gentlemen.  The gold ones have a jewel in the end in place of the rubber, and the silver ones have rubber.  The latter are also made with the distinctive features of the colleges and universities.  Harvard to have a crimson enameled flag bearing the letter “H,” in white as its decoration.  Yale, the flag to be in blue and white, while Princeton, the black and orange colors, etc.

There's quite a bit to unpack here: what did the wings look like?  What were the crimped-paper neck ruches?  And the pencil holders?  How was the figure danced?  

Love's Provocations, 1855

Love's Provocations; being Extracts taken in the most Unmanly and Unmannerly Manner from the Diary of Miss Polly C-- is a comic novel published in 1855 by an English clergyman writing under a pseudonym (cover image at left; click to enlarge).  After some of the painfully earnest and unintentionally hilarious (to a modern reader) Victorian novels I've read for dance research, it's a relief to read one that was actually intended to be funny.  As a bonus, it also has more interesting and valuable dance information than most of the more serious ones!

Cuthbert M. Bede was the pen name of Edward Bradley (1827-1889).  He wrote a number of novels and short pieces for many different publications (notably, The Illustrated London News and Punch) as well as constructing acrostic puzzles.  Biographical information and more about his writing career may be found on his Wikipedia page, but The Cambridge Bibliography of English Literature (1940) provides a much more complete bibliography of his books and confirms the 1855 publication date for Love's Provocations.  

The novel is the story of the romantic tribulations of "Polly", who is madly in love with one Walter Vernon, much to the dismay of her protective parents and her brother Fred, who consider him -- accurately -- to be a scoundrel.  The title of the book is a play on The provocations of Madame Palissy by Anne Manning (1807-1879), which is explicitly referenced by Polly as the inspiration for her journal.  She claims not to have read it; I skimmed it, and there doesn't seem to be any thematic connection.  Madame Palissy's provocations were rather more serious, so the appropriation of the term by Polly is just more evidence of her general silliness.

Polly is abetted in her clandestine love affair by her friend Madge, whose brother Joseph is also in love with Polly.  She is also being courted by an older friend of her father's.  Walter, meanwhile is also flirting heavily with the Madder Brown sisters, Rose and Hyacinth.  "Rose Madder Brown" is a joking reference to the red dye rose madder, one of Bradley's many plays on words.  Others include "a castle in Ayrshire" (castles in the air) for Walter's imaginary wealthy family, and the dancing master "Signor Pussigutti", a reference to catgut, from which violin strings were made.  Dancing masters were often violinists as well, and played for their own dance classes.  The plot is about what you'd expect: Polly plays her suitors against each other and generally acts like a shallow and narcissistic idiot.  She ends up planning to elope with Walter, only to be thwarted by her devoted family.  It's full of over-the-top, buoyantly fake, melodrama:

I saw the gentlemen interfere, and take Mr. Joseph away ; and I thought that I could do no less than go into hysterics. So I sank on the couch, and began to go into them ; but Walter, instead of at once coming to support me through them (as naturally I intended him to do), left me in the most provoking manner, and went out of the conservatory; to attend to his own nose, I suppose. I then, of course, came-to very quickly...

This was after a confrontation between suitors disintegrated into the very drunk Joseph hurling oranges at Walter.  Other amusing scenes involve Walter's wig: long, poetic black locks with which he is covering -- horrors! -- bright red hair, and a moment in a boat when, after being miraculously saved from the incoming tide, Walter and Polly retreat to opposite ends of the boat to be comprehensively seasick.

Interestingly, considering it was written by a clergyman, after Polly is saved from Walter and abandoned by her other suitors for her fickleness, there is no scene of religious repentance and subsequent happy ending, nor does she waste away and die.  She just remains, for the nonce, unmarried and, apparently, unrepentant.

On to the dance material.

Heart Figure, 1900

Continuing the Valentine's Day theme, here's a heart-themed dance game from St. Louis dancing master Jacob Mahler's 1900 compilation Original Cotillion Figures.  I'll give the full text from Mahler first, then a few notes on the listed music.

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

Heart Figure
Jacob Mahler, St. Louis, Mo.

Music -- Waltz -- "Just One Girl."

Properties -- White card board hearts about three inches wide and four inches long, tied with baby ribbon four inches long.  These hearts are handed to the ladies; they write their names upon the heart (upon one side only), the leader hangs these hearts upon a curtain at one end of the room, The [sic] written side turned to the curtain.

The Figure.

The leader calls up as many couple as he has hearts upon the curtain, at signal they all gather in front of curtain, at signal the gentlemen rush forward select a heart, and dance with the lady whose name is written upon the heart.

Favors -- Silver hearts, cupid arrow pins, links.

This figure may be made more effective by giving the gentlemen toy guns, with small arrows to shoot at the hearts, and whatever heart he strikes would be his partner.  While the figure is more exciting, I am somewhat afraid of the danger attached to the use of the gun.

"La Contre Danse", cotillion figure (1900)

There are plenty of cotillions - in the sense of "nineteenth-century dance games", not "eighteenth-century French square dances" - that are some variation on "form a square or longways set and do a quadrille figure or country dance".  "La Contre Danse" is an interesting take on this theme from W. Gilbert Newell, of Bridgeport, Connecticut, and was published in St. Louis dancing master Jacob Mahler's compilation, Original Cotillion Figures (St. Louis, 1900).  It caught my eye because of the unusual formation: couple facing couple across a longways set, as in the American contra "The Tempest", the English "Polka Contre Danse", or quadrille figures done in columns rather than squares.  I can't be certain that this is the only cotillion figure using this formation -- hundreds of them were published from the early nineteenth into the early twentieth century, and I can't claim to have looked at them all -- but it's the only one I've found so far.

"La Contre Danse" is relatively complicated as figures done in sets go.  It opens and closes with two-step done in couples, and in between there is a brief march to set up the longways set before the actual contra/country/contre danse figures begin.  Here's how it works:

The Game

That's what it's called among Harvard and Yale students, alumni, and associated parties: The Game.  The annual November football game between the two famous universities is one of the oldest rivalries in collegiate sports, having been played one hundred and thirty-three times, beginning in 1875; the next meeting is Saturday.  It has so much lingering cultural significance that it has its own Wikipedia page.

So, naturally, it also has its own cotillon (dance game) figure, published in St. Louis dancing master Jacob Mahler's Original Cotillion Figures (St. Louis, 1900) back when The Game was a mere quarter-century old.  Mahler attributed "Yale and Harvard Contest" to H. K. Lackland, also of St. Louis.  Interestingly, and unlike other football-related figures I've seen, it doesn't include any actual football.  I can't even be certain it's meant to be associated with The Game, as opposed to the more general rivalry between the schools.  But in November, anything associated with the rivalry becomes part of the Game-related fuss.

Before I describe "Yale and Harvard Contest", let me look at a pair of figures which definitely do involve football (of some kind), both taken from H. Layton Walker's Twentieth Century Cotillion Figures (Two Step Publishing Company, Buffalo, New York, 1912):

Halloween Cotillion Figures

I'd previously avoided posting any of the actual Halloween figures given in H. Layton Walker's Twentieth Century Cotillion Figures (Two Step Publishing Company, Buffalo, New York, 1912), simply because each one is so short that any one didn't seem like enough material to make a decent blog post.  But in combination, these four figures actually touch on different elements that might be useful for anyone planning an early twentieth century Halloween-themed event.

Taking the four figures in the order in which they appear in Walker:

Say boo!

What would a Halloween ball be without some weird early twentieth-century cotillion figures?  Here's a pair from St. Louis dancing master Jacob Mahler's 1900 compilation Original Cotillion Figures.  One is, I think, genuinely creepy.  The other isn't as scary, but requires a ridiculously complex prop.  Both would require substantial preparation and stage-managing and are best suited to small events.

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

Camping.
Adolph Newberger, New York City, N. Y.

Eight couple dance to the merry strains of a two-step.  Each participant selects a new partner, and the sixteen couple arrange themselves around tent.  All now dance toward tents, constructed of thin paper and erected for the purpose in the four corners of the room, the gentlemen concealing themselves within, as the ladies dance once around the tents.  Four masculine hands are thrust through the paper walls; at a given signal each lady seizes one of the protruding hands, and proceeds to draw its owner through the tent, making him captive for the dance.

Perhaps I'm oversensitive to things suddenly bursting out of walls, but I have some trouble with this figure.  Sure, why doesn't everyone just two-step merrily around the room until the ball suddenly turns into a scene out of Repulsion...

Birth of the Doves

The second and final post in my August cotillion mini-series, in which things get weird!  The Birth of the Doves -- does that title not just fill one with fear? -- is taken from St. Louis dancing master Jacob Mahler's 1900 compilation Original Cotillion Figures. It was attributed to W. L. Curtis of Utica, New York.  This is one of those cotillion figures that either awes or horrifies you with the amount of effort people went to to throw impressive parties in the late nineteenth century.

Interestingly, this cotillion has a specific piece of music: "The Dove's Return", by Fred T. Baker, which dates from around 1893, when it was published as #8725 in the long-running Musical Bouquet series of sheet music.  A detail from the cover is at left; click to enlarge.

Given the music, the dance for this cotillion is obviously the waltz.  The instructions note that this figure should be the last of the evening, and that the "spectacular effect" is beautiful. 

It's certainly a spectacle.

Court Cotillion

Among the myriad ways of matching up couples in a mid-nineteenth to early twentieth century cotillion (meaning the dance party game, not the eighteenth-century square dance), using a deck of cards was an obvious choice.  Here, for example, is "The Cards", from the lengthy list of figures provided by New York City dancing master Allen Dodworth in his 1885 manual, Dancing and its relations to education and social life (the link is to the 1900 edition):

No. 180.
The Cards.

The conductor presents the four queens from a pack of cards to four ladies, and the four kings to four gentlemen; each gentleman then searches for the lady who holds the queen corresponding to his king; after dancing, each lady presents her queen to another lady, and the gentlemen present the kings to other gentlemen.  The process is repeated until all have participated.

This is simple and obvious, and it doesn't require a blog post to explain how to make it work if one understands the general concept of cotillions.

An interesting variation on the cards theme appears in H. Layton Walker's Twentieth Century Cotillion Figures (Buffalo, New York, 1912).  This figure is actually a version of the Ninepins, a quadrille with an extra gentleman (or sometimes a lady) in the center who tries to steal a partner from one of the surrounding couples during the dance figures.  The Walker figure is called "Court Cotillion" and turns Ninepins into an ongoing game in which each bereft gentlemen goes to select another lady and gentleman to start off the next quadrille-plus-one.  It is to be done to waltz music. 

Scotch, Hungarian, whatever (cotillion figure)

H. Layton Walker's Grand Scotch Chain, published in Twentieth Century Cotillion Figures, by (Two Step Publishing Company, Buffalo, New York, 1912), is only moderately interesting as a figure, but tracing its progress from a figure that was neither "grand" nor "Scotch" when it started out is an interesting illustration of how cotillion figures were transmitted across time and international borders in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.

The figure itself is quite simple:

• Two couples separate and select new partners
• They form a four-couple quadrille set
• Head gentlemen turn by right elbows once and a half round, then give left elbows to opposite ladies and turn to place with her
• Side gentlemen repeat
• Head ladies repeat
• Side ladies repeat
• All take partners and waltz

Not mentioned is that the two couples probably danced at the beginning before separating.  As is usual with cotillion figures, the music might be waltz or, for the early 1910s, two-step.  The timing of the figure is not given, but I would suggest allowing a generous eight bars for each of the four figures rather than trying to squeeze a turn and a half plus at least a half-turn into four.  It's easier to stretch the figures out than rush them that much.  This makes it a thirty-two bar figure, not counting the setup and the final waltz (or whatever).

Double Quadrille (cotillion figure)

Double Quadrille is a cotillion (dance party game) figure from H. Layton Walker's Twentieth Century Cotillion Figures (Two Step Publishing Company, Buffalo, New York, 1912), though the "game" element is extremely limited.  The original setup is not even a standard cotillion opening with couples dancing and then separating to find new partners; instead, each couple seeks another couple.

The language and timing of the figure are ambiguous, and I've found no other source to clarify things.  So I've had to make some guesses and minor tweaks in order to create something that actually works.

Here's the original language from Walker:

DOUBLE QUADRILLE.
Four couples perform a tour de valse. Each couple selects another couple and they form a double quadrille; the head couples right and left; half sides the same. Ladies chain; all the ladies forward four steps, turn and face partners; gentlemen take the right hand of partners and left hand of lady on their left; all balance; the ladies facing outward, gentlemen inward; turn partners to places. The figure is danced over to regain places. Signal for all to waltz to places.

Double Grand Chain (a march or cotillion figure)

I first came across Double Grand Chain when flipping through Twentieth Century Cotillion Figures, by H. Layton Walker (Two Step Publishing Company, Buffalo, New York, 1912) for interesting cotillion (dance party game) figures.  Like Winthrope, Double Grand Chain is not terribly game-like beyond the basic cotillion setup of dancing with one person and then finding a new partner, but it would make an interesting addition to a grand march for a group of reasonably skilled dancers. 

Double Grand Chain was not original to Walker; it also appeared in all the editions of Allen Dodworth's Dancing and its relations to education and social life running from 1885 to 1913 (the link is to the 1900 edition), which puts it firmly in the "late Victorian" category.  Since it did reappear in 1912 separately from the Dodworth reprints, I'd still consider it legitimate for a ragtime-era event, and it is sufficiently innocuous in style that I wouldn't be bothered by its use at a mid-nineteenth-century event either.

Here's the version I found in Walker:

DOUBLE GRAND CHAIN.
Six couples dance and select other partners and the twenty-four form six lines of two couples each; one line behind another.  The lines march forward and when the first reaches the end of the room the right hand couple turns to the right and the left hand couple to the left, and the following lines divide in the same way.  The two columns march down the sides of the room to the other end, and when they meet each file in one column performs a grand chain with the opposite file in the other column.  When one column has thus passed entirely through the other, partners join for a general waltz.

I first came across Double Grand Chain when flipping through Twentieth Century Cotillion Figures, by H. Layton Walker (Two Step Publishing Company, Buffalo, New York, 1912) for interesting cotillion (dance party game) figures.  Like Winthrope, Double Grand Chain is not terribly game-like beyond the basic cotillion setup of dancing with one person and then finding a new partner, but it would make an interesting addition to a grand march for a group of reasonably skilled dancers. 

Double Grand Chain was not original to Walker; it also appeared in all the editions of Allen Dodworth's Dancing and its relations to education and social life running from 1885 to 1913 (the link is to the 1900 edition), which puts it firmly in the "late Victorian" category.  Since it did reappear in 1912 separately from the Dodworth reprints, I'd still consider it legitimate for a ragtime-era event, and it is sufficiently innocuous in style that I wouldn't be bothered by its use at a mid-nineteenth-century event either.

Here's the version I found in Walker:

DOUBLE GRAND CHAIN.
Six couples dance and select other partners and the twenty-four form six lines of two couples each; one line behind another.  The lines march forward and when the first reaches the end of the room the right hand couple turns to the right and the left hand couple to the left, and the following lines divide in the same way.  The two columns march down the sides of the room to the other end, and when they meet each file in one column performs a grand chain with the opposite file in the other column.  When one column has thus passed entirely through the other, partners join for a general waltz.

Who is Your Partner?

What would Halloween be without masks?  And what would a cotillion be without at least one figure where people blunder around blindly crashing into each other?

"Who is Your Partner?" is from St. Louis dancing master Jacob Mahler and appeared in Original Cotillion Figures (St. Louis, 1900), his collection of figures from himself and other dancing masters.  It is easy enough to run, but it does require props: 

A number of black masks, like those used in lodges, viz: those that have no eyes, in order to completely blindfold the wearer.

Here's how it goes:

The gentlemen are called to the center of the room, and made to join hands in a circle.  They are given the masks which they put on; they then join hands again and circle to the right; at signal from the leader, they let go hands, hunt for a lady (the ladies are in their regular seats) dance with her.  He is not to remove his mask until he calls the name of the lady with whom he is dancing. 

Two Easy Mixer Games, 1912

I recently had a request to teach 1910s-era dance games, so I went digging through early twentieth-century books of cotillion (or "German") figures looking for some easy mixers that could be explained in a few sentences.  I found two that fit the bill in Twentieth Century Cotillion Figures, by H. Layton Walker (Two Step Publishing Company, Buffalo, New York, 1912).  That book is one of my favorite sources for the silliest and most extreme figures, but it has plenty of simpler ones as well.

Neither of these figures require any props or preparation, and they can be taught in moments on the dance floor, a practice actually recommended in the description of the second.

Winthrope (a March figure, 1912)

"Winthrope" is a cotillion (dance party game) figure found in Twentieth Century Cotillion Figures, by H. Layton Walker (Two Step Publishing Company, Buffalo, New York, 1912).  It's not much of a game, however, though it includes the basic cotillion elements: a group of couples dancing, separating, selecting new partners, and bestowing favors.  The figure itself, however, is simply an interesting way to transition from a typical grand march into a circle of couples for couple dancing.  And that is actually useful. 

I have no idea why it's called Winthrope.  [see note at the bottom of the post for new information]

Here are the four diagrams (click to enlarge), followed by a transcription of the instructions:

WINTHROPE
Sixteen couples up and dance.  Favor, thirty-two couples now on the floor.  March down the centre of hall, etc.  Continue to march around hall then down the centre in fours.  First four to right, second four to left; around hall again, down in eights; halt; second and fourth line of ladies about face and march, as in figure 1.  Lead to the lower end of gentlemen and follow lines of figure No. 2.  Which when you have completed, will leave you in position as figure 3.    Now the second and fourth line of gentlemen about face; march as in figure 3, finishing as per figure 4, which will bring you opposite your original partners.  Face your partner and all dance.

A Valentine Cotillion

I return once more, in honor of Valentine's Day, to H. Layton Walker's delightful Twentieth Century Cotillion Figures (Two Step Publishing Company, Buffalo, New York, 1912), which is always guaranteed to provide me some interesting figures for imaginative dancers.  Christmas was a bit disappointing, as holiday cotillion themes go.  Valentine's Day seems much more promising, since both cotillions and valentines have the goal of matching up people and thus ought to combine nicely!  

Starting from the top of an evening's program, Walker does provide a couple of useful suggestions for the grand march.  I noted a few years ago that good leaders could get their marching dancers into formations such as the letters of the alphabet, or other geometric figures.  Hearts, for example, lend themselves easily to being both created and escaped from by lines of dancers.  Walker provided the diagrams at left for what he called a "Heart March Cotillion", though the shape is so basic that one hardly needs the help.  

More usefully, he noted that the dancers are left on the wrong side of their partners (men on the right rather than the left) when marching out of the figure.  That can be fixed by a standard kludge like having the partners cross each other when they meet, but Walker had a more elegant suggestion: simply repeat the figure going the opposite way up and down the room.  I find the symmetry of that appealing, though I also foresee a problem with dancers overthinking things and deciding to change places with their partners anyway, just because they are uneasy at marching in reversed positions.

Your marching dancers will, of course, be improved by silly headgear:

Seasonal Cotillions

Once more, some cotillions, this time to wrap up the year with midwinter cheer!  As with the North Pole figures, these are taken from H. Layton Walker's Twentieth Century Cotillion Figures (Buffalo, New York, 1912).  This trio of figures is pure fun, however, with no special historical significance.  Three figures aren't enough to comprise an entire party on their own, but mixed with standard, non-winter-themed figures, they add a nice seasonal touch.

But first, let's let's decorate the ballroom with a winter theme...

Snow Flake Dance (party decor)
I can do know better than to quote Walker on the details:

Produce a winter scene that would cheer rather than chill the dancers.  Ceiling to be festooned with crepe paper, and hung with ornaments.  Under these decorations have network of wires loaded down with artificial snow.  Provide serpentine [long, string-like confetti] to the participants which is to be thrown over the snow-laden festoons and wires, sending down the shower of flakes.  The effect is very pretty.  Souvenirs for the dance are caps for the ladies and hugh [sic] chrysanthemums for the gentlemen.  Orchestra can occupy an ice cave at the end of the hall and all the decorations of the room are to be consistent with the snow-flake effect.

Presumably those are huge chrysanthemums for the gents.  

As is often the case, I am bemused by the level of effort and money this description implies.  The orchestra can occupy an ice cave?  A real ice cave?  A fake one seems like it would be less messy and less likely to result in frozen fingers wrecking the music, but with the conspicuous-consumption aspect of cotillions, one can't be quite certain they didn't actually consider building the orchestra a giant igloo.  But least the whole thing seems safer than decorating with evergreens.

On to some figures...

Seeking the North Pole...

In honor of the freezing cold winter weather, I'm returning to H. Layton Walker's Twentieth Century Cotillion Figures (Two Step Publishing Company, Buffalo, New York, 1912) for a pair of cotillion figures themed around the then-current news of the attempts by explorers Robert Peary and Frederick Cook to be the first to reach the North Pole in 1908-1909.  At the time Walker's book was written, there was a lively conflict going on between the two men as to who could claim the polar laurels.  Since then, both accounts have been discredited to varying degrees, but it seems to still be something of an ongoing debate among scholars.  There's an interesting account of the two expeditions and the contemporary debate at the Smithsonian Magazine website, which I recommend for anyone wanting more historical perspective.

What interests me about these figures, along with generally appreciating ballroom silliness, is how, as with Admiral Dewey and the Spanish-American War, current events were turned into ballroom party games.  It's also worth noting for general timeline purposes that, in a book published in 1912, so many of the figures specify the use of the two-step, which was then on the verge of being swept away by the new dances of the 1910s.

On to the figures!

Boarding House

Final cotillion figure for the month!  Boarding House straddles the line between comedy and horror, making it perfect for Halloween.  Along with being probably the single weirdest cotillion figure I've ever seen, which is saying a lot, it's also the most elaborate, requiring the construction of a special trick table along with props and costumes for some of the dancers.  The figure is taken from St. Louis dancing master Jacob Mahler's 1900 compilation Original Cotillion Figures, in which it was attributed to Brooklyn dancing master William Pitt Rivers.  After reading through this figure, I'm not sure I'd have wanted to have him as my dancing master!

I'll include the full original description below, but since it is rather lengthy, I'll start with the requirements and process for the figure.

Red Ear Party, 1919

The description of the Red Ear Party, or Harvest Home Party, appears in Emily Rose Burt's Entertaining Made Easy (New York, 1919).  It was not a full-scale fancy dress ball, but an autumn/harvest-themed ball put on by, according to the book, a group of high school seniors as the opening event of their final year.  Along with normal dancing of the era, it featured a series of novelty dances which were effectively low-key cotillions.  Did the event really take place or was it imagined by Ms. Burt just for the book?  Hard to say.  But I'm impressed with the imagination and industry either displayed by the actual students or expected by Ms. Burt to be achievable by high school kids.  I wish my teenage school dances had been like this!

The red ear of the title was not a body part but an ear of corn.  The significance is said to go back to a colonial tradition in which whoever found the red ear at a corn husking party would get to kiss the girl of his choice.  (You can see an example of one red ear among a lot of normal ones here.)  In this case, finding the (faked) red ear was used to select a "queen" for the party. 

Following this theme, the invitations read:

“Oh, this time o' the year
  You'll recall the red ear
  (It will never go out o' date);
  So the members of "twenty"
  Have planned fun a-plenty
  At a regular Harvest Home fête—
    You're invited!”

The decorations were autumn-themed (leaves, ears of corn, red and orange balloons and lanterns, etc.), the dance cards were shaped like red ears of corn, and the light supper "consisted merely of peach ice cream with sugared popcorn on top, served on grape leaves, nut macaroons, tiny pumpkin tarts and fruit punch.”

The real area of interest for me, of course, was the dancing, and how a series of mini-cotillions ("novelty dances") could be adapted to a particular event and worked into a normal dance program of the late 1910s, even by a group of teenagers with modest resources. 

Marching Medications

Coming back to cotillion figures, and sliding even further down the weirdness scale, here's a figure that combines playing doctor and still more wacky costumes!  The source, once again, is the ever-delightful Twentieth Century Cotillion Figures by H. Layton Walker (Two Step Publishing Company, Buffalo, New York, 1912).

Like the Garden Figure and Stocking Auction figures, Sanitarium is a partner-choosing mixer, but with a much more elaborate setup.  Here's Walker's description:

SANITARIUM
Wig and mask, and stethoscope are the properties that are given the Doctor in this game.  The Doctor retires to a side room.  Couples who are dancing are signaled to stop and the gentlemen retire to the side of room and ladies step to opposite side of room.  A few remarks are made that the place has been quarantined and the health authorities insist on a medical examination of all the guests should be made while the Doctor is entering the hall.  He proceeds at once to examine the ladies as to their health.  With his stethoscope he taps the first lady on her back, holds his stethoscope to his ear and the other end to her back as if to test her lungs.  This done he will write out a prescription (these prescriptions are all in printed form with twelve different kinds of medicine) which he gives to the patient.  She at once proceeds to the side room, where the gentlemen have retired and which door is now labeled "Drug Store."  A drug clerk who may be one of the guests aside from the couples up will take the prescription, beckon the lady to sit down at one side while the prescription is being filled.  She waits a moment, then her bottle marches in life size.  These bottles and boxes are all made of Japanese paper and are worn by men.  The boxes and bottles are all labeled with medicines which they contain.  There will be no trouble finding partners as the ladies will receive a coupon which is torn from the the original coupon.

Whew!

Fruit and Stockings

Moving on from fancy dress balls, here are a pair of cotillion figures which actually involve some degree of costuming, at least for loose definitions of the concept.  Both figures are taken from H. Layton Walker's Twentieth Century Cotillion Figures (Two Step Publishing Company, Buffalo, New York, 1912), source of an endless supply of delightfully weird figures.  There are actually Halloween-themed figures in Walker's book, but they're quite dull by comparison with these two!

Both figures are simple mixers, with either the ladies or the gentlemen selecting partners from a group of opposite-sex dancers.  Dozens of figures of this sort were published over the years, but these two take the concept to a whole new level by having the dancers put on some sort of silly costume during the ball itself, presumably right over their normal evening dress.  

You wouldn't actually want to use figures like these at a fancy dress ball, where the dancers are already in masquerade-type costumes, but they would add some interesting variety at a ball or cotillion evening with dancers in normal 1910s eveningwear.

An Alternate Star Cotillion

Way back in the early days of Kickery, one of my first few posts was on the Star figure found in Thomas Wilson's Royal Scotch Quadrilles (published in footnotes of The Danciad, 1824) and described, minimally, in his Quadrille and Cotillion Panorama (1816), and how I found an echo of it in an American cotillion figure more than fifty years later.  I later published a practical description of how to use it as a cotillion (German) figure.  

At the time, influenced by my reconstruction of the Star figure in the Royal Scotch Quadrilles, I interpreted the cotillion figure as a different way of describing the same figure.  But I recently came across the same late Star figure again in a 1912 cotillion manual, and looking at it, I realized there was another way to interpret it.

Roses and Hooples

As an antidote to the enervating heat wave which has descended on New England this week, I'm ending the month as I began it, with ballroom silliness that make Fair Light of Liberty look positively dull.  Here's another pair of cotillion figures, in the dance-party-game sense of cotillion, taken from H. Layton Walker's Twentieth Century Cotillion Figures (Two Step Publishing Company, Buffalo, New York, 1912).  They are both prop-intensive and a little bit, ah, weirder than most.  But what could be better for a summer ball than wholesome outdoor things like roses and hooples?

Despite the complexity of the setups and props, the directions for each figure are relatively straightforward.  I'm providing them word-for-word below with my own commentary interspersed, because these directions just demand it. 

Presenting...Hoople Race and Rose Bush!

Fair Light of Liberty

In honor of America's Independence Day, a patriotic cotillion figure!

"Fair Light of Liberty" is taken from H. Layton Walker's Twentieth Century Cotillion Figures, published by Two Step Publishing Company in Buffalo, New York, in 1912.  Walker was, by 1912, the editor of a monthly dance journal, The Two Step, started by H. N. Grant in 1890.

Figures like this were usually danced as part of a cotillion (or "German") at the end of a ball or sometimes as an entirely separate event.  This usage of "cotillion" is distinct from the eighteenth-century square dance that was ancestral to the quadrille and modern square dancing.  Cotillion figures often involved a mixer element, props, and some sort of silliness.  "Fair Light of Liberty" has all three!

Here's the original description:

Eight couples up and dance.  At a signal the eight ladies stand at sides of hall at eight different places, that is one at each corner and one between the space from corner to corner.  The leader then gives a lighted candle to each lady which she holds high.  The eight gentlemen partners each select another gentleman and the sixteen men arrange themselves in a ring at center.  The leader has previously numbered the ladies from one to eight and has placed into envelopes two cards of each number and the gentlemen draw.  At a signal they dance around the left, hands joined in a ring, and at another signal run for station indicated on card they have drawn, and the first of the two who are to run to that special corner and blow out light first dances with the fair "light house."  Eight gentlemen are left, they dance with each other.

This follows the general format of such figures: couples dance, split up, play some sort of game, and then dance again in new combinations.  The instructions are a bit light on the practical details, so here's a detailed guide to how I would interpret and apply them: 

Charge of the Light Brigade

A year ago I wrote about Battle Confetti, a figure for the "German cotillion", a form of dance party game popular during the nineteenth century.  Other figures mentioned in the 1898 article that spurred that post included the Dewey figure, which I wrote about earlier this year, and Charge of the Light Brigade, which I'll discuss here, a hundred and sixty-one years after the event that inspired it.

I originally noticed two sources for this figure:

• the April, 1898, issue of The Director, a dance magazine edited by Maine dancing master, author, and enthusiastic professional organizer M. B. Gilbert.  Gilbert is best known today as the author of the 1890 tome Round Dancing, but for a few months he also managed to publish The Director.  It didn't last.  I suspect he wrote most of its contents himself.

• the 1899 edition of the Fashionable Quadrille Call Book and Guide to Etiquette by B. Coanacher, an earlier edition of which is online at the Library of Congress.  This edition has a cover proclaiming it Clendenen's Quadrille Book and Guide to Etiquette.

Here's the original language of the figure as it appears in each:

Charge of the Light Brigade
Music: --- Two-Step
--- Couples Up.  Sig.  Each lady select another lady.  Each gentlemen [sic] select another gentleman.  The ladies form a circle in the centre of the room; the gentlemen form a circle outside the ladies.  The gentlemen raise their hands, the ladies stepping back underneath the up-raised hands which should be lowered, forming what is known as the basket.  The basket thus formed should be divided in halves, each half retiring one to the head and the other to the foot of the room.
Sig.  Gentlemen raise their hands, ladies pass from under and rush to the opposite side of the room, taking as partners the gentlemen opposite them.
        -- M. B. Gilbert, editor. The Director, Vol. 1, No. 5., April 1898 (Portland, Maine).

Charge of the Light Brigade
Couples up; signal, each lady selects another lady each gentleman selects another gentleman; the ladies form circle in centre of the room, the gentlemen form circle outside the ladies, the gentlemen raise their hands, the ladies stepping back under the upraised hands which should be lowered, forming what is known as a basket; the basket thus formed should be divided in halves, each half retiring; one to the head and the other to the foot of the room, taking as partners the gentleman opposite them.
        -- B. Coanacher.  Clendenen's Quadrille Book and Guide to Etiquette / Fashionable Quadrille Call Book and Guide to Etiquette (Chicago, 1899)

The "Dewey" Figure, 1899

A few months back I discussed a short piece from Harper's Bazaar naming popular dances for the winter of 1898-1899.  In that piece, the "Dewey" cotillion figure, named after the famous admiral, was mentioned.  At the time I had no source for this figure and instead described a similar confetti-throwing figure.  Since then, I've unexpectedly come across a description in the 1899 edition of the Fashionable Quadrille Call Book and Guide to Etiquette by B. Coanacher.  (An earlier edition is online at the Library of Congress.) The 1899 edition has a new cover proclaiming it Clendenen's Quadrille Book and Guide to Etiquette.

F. Leslie Clendenen was a St. Louis-based dancing master and author of at least one actual dance manual, but he is most remembered today as the editor of the 1914 compilation Dance Mad.  It's not clear to me whether he actually wrote or edited any of this book or whether the publisher just slapped on a cover with a prominent name to improve sales.  The Clendenen cover also appears on a 1917 edition which adds still more dances and some sheet music as well.

Here's the description:

The "Dewey" Figure

will be very popular, the theme is the Bombardment of Manila, and naturally calls for quite a display of patriotic colors.  The dancers are arranged in parallel columns and at a signal march, moving in lines executing a strategic play at battle.  Finally they line up in two imposing columns, the women on one side, men on the other.  On the floor is the stock of ammunition, consisting of red, white and blue paper hearts.  At the signal, the bombardment begins, and the combatants seize the hearts and hurl them at their adversaries.  The fun increases as the battle waxes hot and the colored hearts burst and the colored paper contents are sent fluttering about.  In the end, there is a complete capitulation and the partners waltz off together.

Once again we're back to the patriotic fervor engendered by the Spanish-American War, as discussed in my earlier post.  The props used are more along the lines of those used in the French figure Les Boules de Neige (Snowballs), with paper hearts full of confetti made to burst on impact.  It is somewhat more practical than Battle Confetti in not having the dancers end in a circle and not requiring mysterious strings crossing the ballroom.  As with other confetti figures, it's best done when there is a quiet cleanup crew on hand with brooms!

The "parallel columns" and "strategic play" are vague enough for some fun to be had if the columns (two, women and men? or more?) are provided with imaginative "generals".  It's not really clear whether the bombardment is meant, as in Snowballs, to select partners by whom one hits or whether each is bombarding the person who is directly across in the opposing column and thus destined to become their partner.  Or possibly the dancers just have a grand old time randomly covering each other in confetti before finding their original partners.  Though the waltz is specified for the final dance, there's no reason a polka or two-step could not be used instead, unless the entire cotillion is waltz-only.

"Dewey" is also like Snowballs (and Battle Confetti) in that it is usable by large numbers of dancers.  Indeed, the description suggests that it might be a "general figure" meant for all the participants in the cotillion. 

Snowball fight!

In honor of tonight's incoming blizzard, and because I've been thinking lately about cotillion figures that scale up well for large groups, let's talk about Les Boules de Neige.  For those who don't speak French, that would be...The Snowballs!

What's with this Paul Jones thing anyway? (1919 edition)

I've written previously about Paul Jones mixers in answer to a question about their origin, so I was quite amused to find the editors of The Dancing Times expressing their bafflement about the dance all the way back in the issue for March, 1919:

Here is the programme of music played by Alfred Delmonte's Jazz Band at the Victory Ball held at the Philharmonic Hall, Liverpool, on Thursday, February 6th.  We are curious to know what exactly is a "Paul Jones," which figures twice upon the programme...

The Dancing Times was a British journal which covered both stage (ballet) and ballroom dancing.  Its editors may have been in the dark about the Paul Jones, but their subscribers were happy to fill them in. 

Battle Confetti

One hundred and sixteen years ago today, the magazine Harper's Bazaar published a brief blurb predicting fashionable dances for the winter would be of "military tone", no doubt influenced by the burst of patriotic fervor occasioned by the brief Spanish-American War, which by the autumn of 1898 had moved into peace negotiations.  The article gives a quick peek at what dances interested Americans (or, at least, American dancing masters) in the second-to-last winter of the nineteenth century.

What's with this Paul Jones thing anyway?

David Millstone of the Square Dance History Project sent me a query in email about how the name "Paul Jones", after the naval hero of the American Revolution, came to be attached to a late nineteenth century song and then a twentieth-century mixer dance.  I can't give a precise answer to David's question, but I can offer some background and informed speculation while meandering through a quick survey of some of the dances given the "Paul Jones" name.

The tl;dr version is: just because two things in dance or music have the same name doesn't mean they necessarily have any relationship whatsoever.

Stars and Stripes

At the turning of the twentieth century, St. Louis dancing master Jacob Mahler contacted his colleagues across the United States to assemble a set of original cotillion figures -- not in the sense of the 18th-century French square dance, but in that of the party-games-with-dancing, some quite silly, which by the end of the nineteenth century had metastasized into events of their own, separate from formal balls.  Using these figures, Mahler assembled a small handbook: Original Cotillion Figures (St. Louis, 1900).  The very first figure given, courtesy of Walter L. Curtis of Utica, New York, was called "Stars and Stripes" and seems particularly timely as America celebrates Independence Day.

This is a geometric figure with a mixer element rather than a silly one, but it is a "property" figure, meaning that it requires props, in this case small American flags.  It's not clear exactly how many are used; it could be either one per dancer or one per couple.  If one per couple, the conductor of the cotillion should decide which gender retains the flag when the couples separate and reunite in different pairs. 

The original figure is for thirty-two dancers.  I'll go ahead and describe the figure for thirty-two, but the number of dancers could be adjusted, provided it remains divisible by four.  The music should be John Philip Sousa's famous march, "The Stars and Stripes Forever".  Sheet music and recordings of this piece are easy to find.  The base couple dance for this figure is the two-step.

1. Eight couples, having acquired their flags, two-step around the room.

2. At the conductor's signal, they separate and each seek another partner, with whom they continue to two-step.

3. At the next signal, four couples form a column of couples in each corner of the room.

4. At the next signal, the columns of couples march on the diagonal toward the center.  When  they meet, they separate, gentlemen turning left and ladies right at 45-degree angles, and march toward the walls side-by-side with a new partner.

5. Upon reaching the wall, take this new partner and two-step.

This really is a neat little figure.  The dancers form a sort of asterisk, coming in to the center in the form of an "x" and going out to the wall in the form of a cross.  If the couples arrange themselves suitably in the corners, each person dances with two or three different partners during the course of the figure. 

One doesn't have to wait for Independence Day to do this figure, but it would certainly be extremely appropriate for a July ball or any event with a patriotic theme.

Round Two Step: A 1903 Dance Mixer

Mixer dances, where all the participants shift partners at intervals, are useful icebreakers at dance events.  In A Complete Practical Guide to Modern Society Dancing (1903), Philadelphia dancing master Albert W. Newman offers a simple mixer for use with the then-fashionable two-step, asserting hopefully that

This dance is rapidly gaining popularity, as it is most enjoyable.

The dancers take partners and hold hands in a grand circle, with each gentleman standing to the left of his partner, and all circle to the left (clockwise).  The dance leader calls out a number (3, 7, 12, etc.), and all the dancers face their partners and begin a grand chain, giving right hands to their partners and pulling by, left to the next, right to the next, left to the next, etc.  As they move, they count people, starting with their partners as "one."  When they reach the number called out by the leader, each takes ballroom position with that person and two-step until the leader gives a signal (typically a whistle), at which point all the dancers open up into a grand circle and once again circle to the left. 

This sequence is repeated as many times as desired, with the leader calling a different number each time so that the dancers end up with new partners after each grand chain.

Newman suggests that the Round Two Step is not only a standalone mixer but also a suitable final figure for a German, or cotillion, a type of party involving a series of dance games.

This style of circle-and-chain mixer was later known as a Paul Jones, possibly after a piece of popular music.  Similar mixers remain current in some living tradition dance forms today.

The Star as a Cotillion (German) Figure

The star figure dates back at least to the Regency era (1810s), when Thomas Wilson either composed it himself or found it common enough to include in his 1815 quadrille manual, though I have never seen it used in a quadrille other than Wilson's own Royal Scotch Quadrilles (1824).  After a long absence, it reappeared in a late 1870s manual of cotillion figures (in the sense of party games or "Germans" rather than the 18th century French dance), intended to be used as part of a full evening of dance games.  I have previously discussed the challenges in reconstructing this figure; the following is a practical description of how to dance it and how to use it as a German.  See the end of this post for a video of dancers performing the Star.

The original source described the figure briefly:

VIII. STAR.
Four ladies, right hand across, swing opposite gentleman to center. Cross right hands, and half circling, swing their partners to center. This is continued until the gentlemen again reach their partners and dance.
    Anon., The German. How to give it. How to lead it. How to dance it. (Chicago, 1878)

In the 19th century, "swing" meant to turn your partner by the hand rather than the modern contra "buzz swing".

This is not the sort of figure that can be easily called "cold", but if dancers are taught the figure in advance, it makes a lovely addition to a ball or evening of cotillions.

Three Chairs: A Genre of Civil War Era Dance Games

• Era: America, 1840s into early 20th century

My friend Patricia asks in email:

Do you know of any documentation for a dance that is known to many as the "hat", "flower", "broom", "paddle", or "fan" dance?

It is described as having two lines of people (usually men in one line and ladies in the other). At the top of the set, one person holds one of the above items and two people of the opposite sex come and stand on either side of the person. He/she looks back & forth between them, hands the item to one of them and sashays or dances down the between the lines with the other person. Sometimes it's done with three chairs, sometimes with no chairs.

I know several dances with most of those names (all but paddle), none of them what Patricia had in mind.  The dance she's describing is a variation on several of the mid-19th century cotillion figures also known as "Germans".  These were not cotillions in the 18th-century sense of a chorus/verse-structured dance for couples in a square.  Instead they were party games with dancing, some of which were quite silly and seem to us today more like children's games than pastimes for a formal ballroom.  By the end of the 19th century, the role of these games had evolved from an amusing way to end a ball into the entire point of the evening, and hostesses vied to run the best "Favor-Germans", with elaborate trinkets as game props and party favors for their guests.