Regency,  Artwork analysis

A dance lesson in the early 19th century

What did a dance lesson look like in the beginning of the 19th century?

What dances did the dance masters teach to their pupils?

How were the dance lessons organised?

Whether you’re in the field of re-enactment or historical fiction, the question has already crossed your mind.

It’s far too broad an issue for a single blog post. Nevertheless, I’m going to provide a few elements of an answer. I have chosen to analyse a famous series of drawings entitled “Dancing Lesson”.

The caricature’s exaggerated style highlights the little annoyances of everyday life in days gone by. It’s a quick and effective way of capturing the reality of the times.

George Cruikshank and the Dancing Lesson

A word about the artist, George Cruikshank (1792 – 1878). You already know him if you read my other articles about dance cartoons.

George’s father Isaac (1764-1811) played a major role in the golden age of English caricature. When Isaac died following a drinking contest (badass), George took over the family business with his brother Robert, and with great success.

George quickly became the terror of the English political and aristocratic classes, his prime target for caricature. He also produced acid drawings of the society of his time, as shown in this drawing. [A Bath Ball, 1820]Whether you’re into historical re-enactment or historical fiction, the question has already crossed your mind.

Le père de George, Isaac (1764-1811) a joué un rôle majeur dans l’âge d’or de la caricature anglaise. Lorsque Isaac décède à la suite d’un concours de boisson, George reprend l’affaire familiale avec son frère Robert, et avec succès.

George devient rapidement la terreur de la classe politique et aristocratique anglaise, sa cible de choix pour les caricatures. Il produit aussi des dessins acides sur la société de son époque, comme en témoigne ce dessin:

Regency fashion cartoon cleavage short dresses feathers Cruikshank 1820
Here, the artist harshly criticizes fashion: short dresses, deep cleavages and out-of-control plumed headdresses. In the back, the statue of the modest Aphrodite creates some strong contrast.
George Cruikshank, A Bath Ball, or Virtue in Danger, S.W. Fores, London, Jan 6, 1820.

The series that insterests us today is entitled Dancing Lesson. Published between 1822 and 1825, it usually counts 4 plates. Thomas McLean re-published those drawings in 1835, proving that they were still relevant.

In this article, I will study six plates. No, not just the four. You’ll understand later 🙂

Pt.1 – The First position

George Cruikshank, The Dancing Lesson, Pt. 1 - The First Position,  1822 regency dance cartoon salute
George Cruikshank, The Dancing Lesson, Pt. 1 – The First Position, éd. G. Humphrey, London, Jul 8, 1822.

Since the beginning of the 18th century, the five positions constitute the base of the learning of dancing. Here the dance master and his pupil show a perfect first position, feet aligned at 180°. Another pupil, maybe late, opens the door while saluting. He is also in first position. Unless he is simply practicing, using the doorknob as a barre.

The dance master is depicted as a perfect dandy: hair expertly tousled, collar starched, tie artfully knotted. This clichéd image is repeated in the other works.

Notice, in the master’s hand, a pouch, a small violin typical of the dance master’s profession. The miniature size of the violin makes it possible to play while dancing and teaching. What’s more, the small sound box means you can play without disturbing the neighbours.

The scenery is minimalist: a curtain, a chair, a door.

Pt2 – The Minuet

George Cruikshank, The Dancing Lesson, Pt. 2 - The Minuet, 1824. Turnhip, regency dance, dance master, pouch
George Cruikshank, The Dancing Lesson, Pt. 2 – The Minuet, éd. G. Humphrey, London, March 6, 1824.

In the second piece of the series, we observe that the dance master is also a master of good manners. Two yound children are training to salute to the sound of the pouch. The boy holds his hat in his hand. This is the beginning of the minuet.

That couple dance, very codified, is slowly disappearing from the ball during the beginning of the 19th century. However, it remains on the dance school syllabus. It is considered a good basis for working on grace and turnout. In fact…

Look, in the background, a little girl’s feet are shackled in a strange device. It’s called a hipturner.

This torture device is used to work the en-dehors, a basic technique in Baroque, Regency, 1st Empire and later Classical dance. It consists of two boards connected by screws, which are gradually tightened. In this way, the feet manage to line up, forming a continuous line in first position. The exercise is rather painful, to judge by the expression on the little girl’s face.

Once again, the set is minimalist, with only a curtain covering the bare wall.

Pt3 – L’été

George Cruikshank, The Dancing Lesson, Pt. 3 - L'été, éd. G. Humphrey, Londres, 1er mars 1825. Figure de quadrille regency, caricature
George Cruikshank, The Dancing Lesson, Pt. 3 – L’été, éd. G. Humphrey, London, March 1st, 1825.

The title of the third episode refers of course to “L’été”, the second figure of the First Set. The First set is born around 1800, and knew a considerable success throughout the century

As in the previous drawing, the exercise consists in perfecting the salute – not really in dancing.

While the girl is concentrating exclusively on the lesson, the two boys at the back are not. They seem to be laughing at the dancing master, who is taking himself very seriously as he demonstrates the salute to his pupil.

The man is holding his frock coat like a skirt, which makes him look ridiculous.

In the background, unsurprisingly, is a bare wall and a wooden door. (those remarks on the backgrounds will be useful, I promise)

Pt4 – The Sailor Hornpipe

George Cruikshank, The Dancing Lesson, Pt. 4 - The Sailors Hornpipe, éd. G. Humphrey, Londres, 1er mars 1825. Danse solo sous la régence anglaise, danse de marin
George Cruikshank, The Dancing Lesson, Pt. 4 – The Sailors Hornpipe,
ed. G. Humphrey, London, March 1st, 1825.

The last (or not) plate in the series “Dance lesson” is all about the Sailor Hornpipe. Hornpipes have been known in Ireland and Great Britain since the 16th century.

In the mid-18th century, it became associated with the maritime world. This solo dance required very little space. The navy therefore saw the hornpipe as an ideal exercise to keep sailors in good physical shape while at sea. The movements were inspired by the actions of sailors: looking at the horizon, pulling the ropes, etc.

Dance was very successful on London stages in the 1820s, thanks to Thomas Potter Cooke (1786-1864). This former member of the British navy achieved success by specialising in the roles of sailors. His in-depth knowledge of the hornpipe and the world of sailors set him apart from other actors.

The Sailor Hornpipe dance is often performed to the tune of the same name (also known as the College Hornpipe). You may know this tune as ‘the music of Popeye the sailor’. For more information on the hornpipe in the maritime world, see Dr Heather Clarke’s article.

The plate shows the importance of the arms: both pupils use a stick to get the correct position of the arms. Note that, this time, the pupils are really dancing: the danse master beats time with his foot.

As usual, the background is reduced to its simplest expression: a curtain and a frame (partially… out of frame).

The series ends after that fourth plate.

Or so I thought, until my Facebook feed showed me a fifth part.

What ? Cruikshank had continued the series?

The Dancing Lesson, Pt 5

The Dancing Lesson, Pt. 5, éd. S.W. Fores, 1824. Dance lesson with a dance master regency dance 19th century
The Dancing Lesson, Pt. 5, éd. S.W. Fores, London, December 9, 1824.

The drawing depicts a dance master in black clothing, pouch and bow in the hand. He teaches a dance step, his right knee up in the air. Two pupils, a girl and a boy, faces each other and lift the right leg very high.

The girl is wearing a red and white dress, that she lift with her left hand. She holds something in her back with her right hand… a train?

In the absence of subtitle, it is hard to guess which part of the lesson is at play.

In the background, a window shows us an English summer day (… it is raining). Against the wall, we see a piano and its adjustable stool. A little frame completes the scenery.

Note that the background is much more detailled than in the previous plates.

The Dancing Lesson, Pt 6

The Dancing Lesson, Pt. 6, 1824. Wilson waltz regency dance napoleonic empire
The Dancing Lesson, Pt. 6, éd. S.W. Fores, London, December 9, 1824.

In the centre, a dance master in a blue frock coat plays the pouch. Two couples of children walta. The girl on the left holds something in her back, maybe a train? Leaning back, she would fall without the support of her partner, that holds her.

Once again, the set is brimming with detail: a door, a curtain and three frames. These are reminiscent of the ‘mocking pictures’ that Cruikshank loves so much. But here the pictures are barely sketched.

In the fram on the left, two male dancers and a female one. The men lift their arm. To be honest, the position of the dancer on the right reminds me of a lindy hop – just 100 years ahead of its time. More seriously, it’s probably a Scottish reel.

The frame in the middle depicts a person. Hard to tell much more without resorting to a Rorsbach test. You know, the interpretation of ink blots…

Finally, the fram on the right depicts two couples dancing in a closed position. Probably some waltzers. The male dancer on the right is folded in two, the achieve the height of his partner. That position is reminiscent of another of Cruikshank’s engravings.

A gauche:  The Dancing Lesson, Pt. 6, éd. S.W. Fores, Londres,  9 décembre 1824 (détail). 
A droite: G. Cruikshank, Specimens of Waltzing, éd. G. Humphrey, Londres, 4 juin 1817 (détail). 
La position des danseurs est identique! Valse, valseurs
Left: The Dancing Lesson, Pt. 6, éd. S.W. Fores, London, December 9, 1824 (detail).
Right: G. Cruikshank, Specimens of Waltzing, éd. G. Humphrey, London, June 4, 1817 (detail).
The dancers’ position is identical!

Are part 5 & 6 Les parties 5 et 6 genuine ?

At first, I was very excited to discover a following to the famous Cruikshank’s series “Dancing Lesson”. But I quickly got back to earth. During my analysis, many details bothered me.

Editor et artist

First of all, even if everything screams “Cruikshank” in the plates 5 and 6, there is no signature. The plates 1 to 4 all mentions Cruikshank, either as “etched” or “fecit”. Fecit means “he did” in Latin. In both cases, those words indicate who realised the drawing or the engraving.

On the other hand, plates 5 and 6 are silent about the artist’s identity.

The editor is clearly mentionned: S.W. Fores, on Picadilly. But… G. Humphrey edited the four first plates. Why would Cruikshank switch editor in the middle of a series?

A quick research reveals that Cruikshank worked regularly with Fores and Humphrey in the 1810s and 1820s. Nevertheless, I find this change of publisher suspicious.

Add to this that parts 5 and 6 have no subtitle, unlike the other parts. And the engravings do not appear to have been cut.

The dates: Back to the future?

The first publishing of the series “Dancing Lesson” spreads from 1822 to 1825. Note that there is like a problem with the dates…

Part 1 – The 1st positionMonday July 1st, 1822
Part 2 – The MinuetSaturday March 6, 1824
Part 3 – L’étéTuesday March 1st, 1825
Part 4 – The sailors hornpipeTuesday March 1st, 1825
Part 5Thursday December 9, 1824
Part 6Thursday December 9, 1824

You see the problem, right?

If we look only at the date, the order of pulication would be: 1, 2, 5, 6, 3, 4.

How to explain that imaginative numbering?

Let’s plead human error, a distraction when writing down the date, a mistake in the date… It’s a bit big, isn’t it?

Une vision du futur: de la publicité partout et des taxis-montgolfières.
George Cruikshank, A scene in the farce of 'Lofty Projects' (...), éd. G. Humphrey, Londres, 1825. le future imaginé en 1825, rétro-futurisme, steampunk
A vision of the future: ads everywhere and hot-air balloon taxis.
George Cruikshank, A scene in the farce of ‘Lofty Projects’ (…), éd. G. Humphrey, London, 1825.

Artistic style

Plates 5 and 6 certainly smell of trouble! What about the background? Are there any significant differences in drawing style or composition?

The characters

The dance master of plate 5 looks problematic to me. He is considerably shorter than in the other plates. Elsewhere, the difference in size between the teacher and his pupils is much more marked. This is also the only plate where the teacher wears a black suit. He is in blue on all the other plates.

The little dancers in plates 5 and 6 hold something in their back. Is it a train? In plate 6, you can even glimpse some fabric.

This is very different from the pupils in plates 1, 2 and 4, where they don’t hold any skirt. The skirt in question are short and don’t obstruct the movement. Therefore they don’t need to be hold.

A gauche:  une robe à traîne, dans The Dancing Lesson, Pt. 6, éd. S.W. Fores, Londres,  9 décembre 1824. 
A droite:  une robe courtre, dans George Cruikshank, The Dancing Lesson, Pt. 4 - The Sailors Hornpipe, éd. G. Humphrey, La mode fillette en 1825, 1820s
Left: dress with train, in The Dancing Lesson, Pt. 6, éd. S.W. Fores, London, December 9, 1824.
Right: short dress, in George Cruikshank, The Dancing Lesson, Pt. 4 – The Sailors Hornpipe, éd. G. Humphrey, London, March 1, 1825.

The scenery

Plates 5 and 6 feature a much more elaborate and elaborate décor than the other plates. In panels 1 to 4, a bare wall takes up most of the space. This makes it easy to read the scene unfolding in the foreground.

The las two plates, are filled with details: sash window, piano, frames, curtain, door…

In the plate 6, we see some “mocking pictures”, a method the Cruikshank uses regularly… but not in this particular series. When the artist speaks through those frames, he makes sur that they are readable. Here, however, the format is just too small to understand the intended humour.

The truth on plates 5 and 6

Many clues show that plates 5 and 6 are not part of the original series. The drawing style is different, the composition too.

Doubts intensify when we see the different publisher, the absence of a subtitle and even of the artist’s name. The problem of date and numbering also casts doubt on these two plates.

In view of all this, I think that plates 5 and 6 are copies. Not in the sense of a literal copy, of course. It seems to me that an unscrupulous publisher wanted to cash in on the success of George Cruikshank’s caricatures.

In studying the British Museum‘s collection of engravings, I discovered that S. W. Fores, the publisher of plates 5 and 6, knew the Cruikshank family well. He had been working with the father, Isaac, since at least 1788. He also worked very regularly with George, until 1820.

Then… nothing more until 1826. The two men did not work together at all between 1820 and 1826. This observation is confirmed by an examination of the Digital Commonwealth, the online catalogue of Massachusetts institutions.

This leads me to believe that Cruikshank and Fores must have fallen out. In my opinion, Fore will have wanted to recoup Cruikshank’s success by publishing engravings “in the style of”. By playing on their past collaboration, the publisher could pass these plates off as the authentic continuation of the series.

What can we learn from those engravings?

Genuine artworks or imitations, the six engravings give us some important information about the learning of dancing in the beginning of the 19th century.

The character of the dancing master, elegant and well-dressed, but also strict and (too) serious, is an old stereotype.

The dancing master’s lessons are aimed at children, either in private lessons or in small groups. It is suggested by the decorations that the lessons took place at home.

Finally, the engravings show a lot of exercises (the five positions, carrying the arms, bows) and little actual dancing. The master teaches both dance and good manners.

Why was it such a success?

Museums and libraries around the world keep many printings of the first four plates in the series Dancing Lesson. The original printings are well represented, as well as the second edition by Thomas McLean in 1835.

The existence of a second edition, and of plates 5 and 6, which capitalise on the success of Cruikshank’s plates, all point to a significant and lasting success for these drawings.

Why?

Probably because those drawing “spoke” to the audience. Everyone could see themselves in these scenes of everyday life, even ten years after they were first published.

The teaching of dance classes hasn’t changed much in that time. That stereotype of the stuffy dance master still makes people laugh. The drawings have not aged a bit.

Do Cruikshank’s engravings mean anything to you? Do they bring back good (or bad) memories of dance lessons? What else would you like to know about dance lessons in the early 19th century?

I look forward to your comments!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.