Today’s post comes from my bookmarks rather than my library. And, although you can’t really tell from the title of the post, the book in question is a dance manual.

Among the goodies tucked into the Library of Congress’s online collection is The gentleman & lady’s companion; containing, the newest cotillions and country dances; to which is added, instances of ill manners, to be carefully avoided by youth of both sexes..  This little gem provides instruction (along with suggested music) for most of the dances being done in ballrooms in 1798 – and likely later.  I’m sure you’ll find them useful.

However, the fun part of this treatise comes in the chapter titled “Inftances of ILL MANNERS, to be carefully avoided by youth of both fexes.” I thought it would be fun to consider some of the “inftances.”

Many of these seem pretty much like common sense. For example, “Entering a room with the hat on, and leaving it in the same manner.” This seems like common courtesy even today, particularly in the ballroom. However, “passing between the fire and persons sitting at it,” or “standing between the light and any person wanting it,” is fairly dated advice. 

The book advises against contempt in looks, words, or actions, for a partner in dancing, or other persons which makes one wonder why you would request a dance with someone for whom you feel contempt. But perhaps this was more common in 1798. And for heaven’s sake, don’t distort your countenance and practice mimicry. I’m sure there’s no quicker way to lose a dance partner.

Rowlandson – The Miseries of Reading

By all means, do not “Lean on the shoulder, or chair of another person, and overlooking persons who are writing or reading.” Apparently Caroline Bingley had not read this section or she would not have been overlooking Darcy as he wrote to his sister. Class will out. 

You are advised not to “loll on a chair when speaking or when spoken to, and look persons earnestly in the face without any apparent cause.” I can understand the prohibition against lolling. That’s so rarely courteous. But looking persons earnestly in the face? I’m not sure why that’s bad. Any ideas?

I get “laughing loudly, when in company, and drumming with feet or hands” and “swinging the arms, and all other awkward gestures, especially in the street, and in company.” Even today, I characterize such behavior as “ill-mannered.” On the other hand, “A constant smile or settled frown on the countenance” seems a tad stringent. Yes, a settled frown might be a little off-putting, but don’t you think a cheery face might be okay?

Nevertheless, both the author of The Gentleman and Lady’s Companion and I exhort you to especially eschew “All instances of that ill judged familiarity which breeds contempt.” And have a good day.

The Milk Sop – Thomas Rowlandson

Moving along in my library, we leave last week’s Toilet of Flora, and move to my Georgian sex shelf.  On this shelf, we find the entertaining (and yet distressing) Harris’s List of Covent-Garden Ladies.  Like last week’s book, this is also now available to you in Google Books.  The one I’ve linked to is for 1789, but you’ll be able to extrapolate to a later date.

Harris’s list is sort of a Zagat’s guide to ladies of the evening. It was not, however, written by Jack Harris, but by one Sam Derrick, based on Jack Harris’s list. Mr Derrick apparently reached some sort of agreement for use of the list, and provided comprehensive descriptions of Mr. Harris’s ladies and where to find them.  Shall we look at a few?

Picking Cheerful – Thomas Rowlandson

The book opens with Miss D-vis, No. 22 Upper Newman-street. This is a fine lively girl, about twenty-one, rather above the middle size, genteelly made; has several good friends, but is much attached to young Br-om, the lottery-office-keeper, who is now in prison, where she often visits him; is ever obliging, and seldom out of humour, understands a great deal of her business, and never fails to please.

In No. 82, Queen Ann-street, we find Mrs. D-nby, who has found a neat way to make a little additional money by wearing her clients out and renting them a room for the night.

A fine plump lady, twenty-four years old, rather short with sandy colour hair, fine blue eyes, rather of an amorous constitution; when in the arms of an equally lewd partner, she never wishes to fall in the arms of sleep, whilst Venus holds her court, Morpheus is kicked out of doors, as she keeps the house, any gentleman may have a night’s lodging for one pound one shilling, and half the money if he can do the business well.

Mrs. D-l-v-t of No. 46 Hanover-street is apparently on hiatus but is thinking about returning to the business:

And Inclined Beauty – Thomas Rowlandson

This lady is about thirty, she was bread a milliner, and married very young an attorney’s clerk, but as his income was not sufficient to support her in the manner she wished to live, she listened to the addresses of an American gentleman who made her a handsome allowance whilst he remained in England, and took some pains to persuade her to accompany him in his present visit to that quarter of the world, but she preferred old to new England. She is at present a housekeeper, but soon intends to quit her situation and retire to snug lodging as she has experimentally found that the frail sisterhood are vary bad pay mistresses.

We further learn that she has kept her looks and wields a “birchen rod” with dexterity (in case your taste runs in that direction). We also learn that she never never condescends to grant her favors for less than a guinea.

Let’s finish with Sally Cummins, Charles Street, Westminster who is a bluish eyed comely lass, but too much indebted to art for her complexion. She talks French, and sings agreeably, and in her cups is very religious, when you should find her to be a most bigoted Papist.  She sounds like fun, doesn’t she?

So, I leave you with another book to look into. Mr. Derrick has quite a way with words and one doesn’t know how much of this to take at face value. We do know, however, that it was based on Mr. Harris’s list, which was quite probably what it purported to be.  I also leave you with some illustrations by Thomas Rowlandson, who seems best fitted for this topic.