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Two special occasions this summer prompted me to dust off a familiar old book titled “Our Manners and Social Customs,” published in 1891 by Elliott and Beezley of Chicago and Philadelphia. The subtitle alone sets the tone: “A practical guide to deportment, easy manners, and social etiquette,” written by one Daphne Dale.
Just mouth the words: deportment, manners, etiquette – words distinct in their very sounds but extinct in usage today, even in our illustrious halls of Congress where the “gentle ladies and gentle men” would bat 0 for 3. (And that’s not counting the foul by Cheney to Leahy).
Back in the 19th century – and the early days of the 20th century – many of the stately halls and residences located in Down East towns were being built by people who indeed strove to place themselves on the highest plane attained by culture and refinement.
They knew that a gentleman in asking a lady to dance may do so in any polite form, but ordinarily he will say, “Will you honor me with your hand for a quadrille?” In other words, he does not whistle between his fingers as a signal for her to gallop across the room.
In fact, according to “Our Manners and Social Customs,” it is a “rigorous rule that ladies must not enter or cross a ball-room without an escort.” Walking about the room after a dance also is not permitted so the lady is instantly returned to her seat when the music stops. “A young lady should not dance with the same partner more than twice unless she desires to be noticed.” To the contrary, we suppose, if she dances with someone else’s partner all night, she’ll get noticed plenty.
“It is not in good form to make arrangements for another dance while one is in progress” according to social etiquette, and it is “not considered well-bred to stay too late at a ball.” The definition of “too late” no doubt means it already is.
According to the guidebook, “Every gentleman must make a point of asking the ladies of the house to dance,” even the homely ones. “He must not selfishly slight those unfortunates who may have outlived their youth and beauty.” (Euphemistic but pleasant phrasing, we would opine).
Back in those days 100 guests constituted a “ball;” over that, a “large ball;” under that, a “dance.” Invitations to a ball must be sent out two or three weeks in advance, and “only those who dance should accept invitations to a ball. The presence of wallflowers is not an honorable distinction which a hostess will crave.”
Apparently, no lady will dance with one gentleman after she has refused another, and in declining to dance “she must never do so point blank but she may plead fatigue or some other reasonable excuse.”
The book states that if she has “declined to dance on the score of fatigue,” she must not be seen upon the floor again.
However, we would surmise that if she continues dancing while growing in fatigue she will end up on the floor – not upon it.
What an unpardonable rudeness that would be, by any book.
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