A cotillion that causes a scandal
The cotillion can be the happiest or the most embarrassing of dances. It all depends on who you’re dancing it with.
It’s easy enough to avoid someone when the orchestra is playing a scottische or a quadrille, but it becomes mission impossible when you’re dancing the cotillon. Because, as I’ve already mentioned, at the cotillion it’s luck that chooses your partner. Or bad luck, as the case may be.
Who hasn’t found themselves waltzing with Sweaty Germain or Itchy-lace Odette because of a cotillion?
These days, cotillions are pretty short: one or two figures. So you have to be patient. And appearances are less important these days. It doesn’t matter if we were seen dancing with Stuck-up Denise, who’s going to judge us for that?
But just imagine the scandals and reputations that could be lost because of a cotillion in the middle of the 19th century!
In the course of my research, I came across a newspaper article about a similar misadventure.
Being a French native speaker, I write in English as good as I can. Please let me know if you sot any error. thank you!
The context
To fully understand what was at stake in the quarrel, you need to know a little about Belgium in the 1860s and the Belgian coast. I know, it’s a bit off the subject of historical dancing, but it’s worth it, believe me.
When Belgium became independent in 1830, there were no political parties. Of course, the members of parliament had Liberal or Catholic leanings. However, it was ‘unionism’ (or the ‘union of opposites’) that prevailed, with each side making compromises to fight together against the common enemy: William I of the Netherlands.
Belgium’s international situation became more stable over the years. The two tendencies became more openly opposed. In 1846, the Liberal Party was created. The Catholic party gradually took shape between 1863 and 1867.
There were only two parties at the time, and there was a very clear divide between them. The clans had little or no contact with each other.
The place : Blankenberghe
Ostend is by far the most famous seaside town in Belgium. The town gave its name to the ‘Ostendaise’ dance, which has been danced all over the world. Popular with the Belgian royal family from 1834, Ostend quickly became a fashionable town. This trend accelerated after the installation of the railway (1839) and the construction of a Casino-Kursaal (1852).
A Kursaal is a typical leisure venue in a spa town. It usually includes a ballroom, a concert hall or theatre, a games room and a restaurant.
What about Blankenberge?
Blankenberge is the outsider of the Belgian coast. Smaller, less developped, it is always in competition with its big sister. Blankenberge aims to compete with Ostend. That’s why a Kursaal is built in 1859, and a railway connection in 1863.
The cotillion
You now have all the information you need to understand the following article:
« Tandis qu’à Ostende la majorité des baigneurs se compose d’étrangers, parmi lesquels dominent les Allemands, à Blankenberghe la société est à peu près exclusivement belge, et, comme dans toutes les villes d’eaux, composées d’éléments très disparates. Or, les lieux de réunion ne sont pas assez nombreux pour que les diverses nuances sociales puissent s’isoler. Comme il leur est difficile aussi de se confondre, attendu qu’en Belgique on se connaît trop, parfois de petits froissements résultent de vanités qui se heurtent et d’amours-propres qui se coudoient.»
‘Whereas in Ostend the majority of bathers are foreigners, mostly Germans, in Blankenberge society is almost exclusively Belgian and, as in all spa towns, made up of very disparate elements. There are not enough meeting places for the various social nuances to isolate themselves. As it is also difficult for them to blend together, given that in Belgium people know each other too well, sometimes small irritations result from vanities colliding and prides running elbows over each other.’
L. Hymans, « Aux bains de mer », La Meuse, 25/08/1865, p.3.
Eugène Clément, Manuel du Cotillon. Nouvelle édition, Ouachée, Paris, 1895, p.60b.
Some cotillion figures with special props.
How the quarrel began
« Tous les soirs on danse au Kursaal, et comme les danseuses n’acceptent que les cavaliers qui leur conviennent, tout va bien, tout alla bien du moins jusqu’au jour où quelqu’un s’avisa malencontreusement d’organiser un cotillon. Aussitôt l’on vit se former deux camps. Des demoiselles qui ne voulaient pas s’exposer à danser avec des inconnus se retirèrent : comme elles appartenaient à des familles catholiques, il y eut des libéraux froissés et pendant huit jours on raconta sur la digue qu’il s’était formé deux camps, une droite et une gauche parmi les danseurs. »
‘Every evening there is dancing at the Kursaal, and as the female dancers only accept dancers who suit them, all is well, or at least it was until the day when someone inadvertently decided to organise a cotillion. Immediately two camps formed. Some young ladies who didn’t want to expose themselves to dancing with strangers withdrew: as they belonged to Catholic families, there were some offended Liberals and for eight days it was said on the dyke that two camps had formed, a right and a left among the dancers’.
Adding fuel to the fire
Here’s the crux of the problem. When invited to waltz, a lady can always refuse politely. But at the cotillion, you have to accept what fate throws at you! So the female dancers, mindful of their reputation, play it safe and go home early. And the male dancers are offended.
« La droite pria le Bourgmestre de remettre à sa disposition la salle de l’Hôtel-de-Ville. »
‘The right-wing asked the Burgomaster to make the town hall room available to them.’
Liberals – well, not the whole party, mind you, but the Liberal dancers who frequented the Kursaal balls that summer. The Liberal dancers wanted to organise their own ball, in the city hall. This private ball would, one imagines, be open only to people judged to be ‘acceptable’. But the mayor would then take sides in the dispute.
A peaceful resolution
« Le magistrat qui depuis plus de vingt ans dirige les destinées de la commune, eut le bon goût de ne consentir qu’à la condition que la salle serait ouverte à tout le monde. C’était tuer la conspiration dans l’œuf. La presse locale – il y a deux journaux ici, la Vigie et la Plage, – s’occupe de l’affaire et on a failli assister à des échanges de cartes comme à Ostende. – Une quête au profit d’une œuvre de bienfaisance réconcilia les deux partis. Les chefs de droite offrirent le bras aux dames de la gauche pour recueillir les dons des personnes charitables et le cotillon triompha dans le Kursaal pacifié. C’est assez la coutume ici bas. »
‘The magistrate, who for more than twenty years has directed the destinies of the city, had the good taste to agree only on condition that the hall would be open to everyone. This nipped the conspiracy in the bud. The local press – there are two newspapers here, La Vigie and La Plage – got involved in the affair and there was almost an exchange of cards like in Ostend. – A collection for charity reconciled the two parties. The leaders of the Right offered their arms to the ladies of the Left to collect donations from charitable people and the cotillion triumphed in the pacified Kursaal. That’s quite the custom here.’
All’s well that ends well! The clever burgomaster rises above the quarrel. The two parties are reconciled at a charity event. And most importantly, everyone finally gets to dance the cotillion in the neo-Moorish Kursaal in Blankenberge.
Conclusion
In the 19th century, the ball was a place to see and be seen. Like the theatre or the opera, it was a place where people observed, gauged and judged each other. A clumsy gesture is enough to ruin a reputation. Caution is the order of the day.
That’s why the females dancers, especially single, are extremely fussy about etiquette and the selection of their dates. Any blunders could have a negative impact on their reputation and marriage prospects.
Fortunately, things are different these days!
You May Also Like
Menuet, a short story about minuet, 1882
