The Archery Rooms

A garbled and verbose description of the 'Archery Rooms', which appears to be hosting a masquerade ball of a middling sort, patronised by shop-assistants and the like (and ladies of easy virtue). All I can find on the internet is that this venue was at 26 Bath Place, New Road, and also used for chartist lectures and meetings. If you know any more, please do let me know. 

There is a place of amusement professedly of this description, located in the New-road, not far from Tottenham-court-road. Those who wish to visit it cannot fail to identify it - being blessed with those very necessary articles vulgarly called eyes, but scientifically known by the name of organs of vision - by observing the exterior adorned in various places with bulls' eyes, with straw retinas.
    Now any one in his every-day senses would imagine that he might have his "dozen o'arrows" for his threepence, and shoot all round the target with perfect satisfaction to himself and to the proprietor; but he may be satisfied it is all moonshine. Not that there is not a deal of archery going on too, but the targets being animated, and fixed upon locomotive crutches, why they may naturally be allowed to put in a negative as to being shot at indiscriminately; and there can be little doubt that steel-pointed shafts would be not altogether so congenial as those of softer construction and tipped with gold.
    The visitor having discovered the whereabouts, walks up-stairs to door No.1, and after making the proprietor aware of his presence by ringing an alarm, he is ushered into the passage, and if he be fortunate enough to possess a ticket, he is suffered to progress on payment of a sixpence; but if he has no ticket, there are no hopes of his further advance unless he advance a shilling. He is then asked whether he will leave his hat, which, if he be green, he will do, and will retire with an exchange, of course, not for the better. He then walks to door No.2, which a little imp of vagabondism unlocks, and, immediately on his left, he finds himself at the approach of the "Archery Rooms;" he walks down three steps, and he is in the very vortex of -----— Instead of archery, what does he see? Servant girls, who serve more masters than one, dressed a la Grecque; French girls, rather furrowed by time, however, with short petticoats, barely reaching below the knee, and too much shrunk above to prevent the display of the bust; in fact, fig-leaves in a state of expansion - flesh-coloured stockings, and white Adelaides, unlaced at the top; married ladies, who occasionally make and keep appointments with unmarried gentlemen; and unmarried maidens who are perfectly indifferent to the ceremonies of the church, and who please according to the favors received; lawyers' clerks; linen-drapers' shopmen and handicraftsmen, transformed into poor imitations of something above their own comprehension, and that of every body else; automaton sailors, frightened at the popping of a soda-water bottle! fighting gladiators, who never touched anything more ponderous than a bodkin; Bedouin Arabs, stiffer than a stretched rope; opera-dancers, whose utmost art is to double shuffle; ostrich feathers in extreme lassitude; velvet bonnets; ravens' wings; dirty stockings; straw cigars! hot water and sugar, mystified with gin; strong smells; sweat and filth; - all these he will meet with at the Archery Rooms - and more. 
    The masquerade, it is said, would take it as a great boon if the proprietor would convert one of his little dark rooms into a dressing-room; for who, with common decency, which no doubt encumbers them, can like to disrobe in the aforesaid passage, through which only ingress and egress is maintained. This is strictly true, and many a ragged shirt has fluttered in the breeze of the two doors, to the admiration of the comers-in and goers-out. Very few persons like to make a public exhibition of dirty flesh and raggedness, and the proprietor knowing this, ought to have a little regard to the delicate and complicated nerves of his supporters. It is not pleasant to see a youth with begrimed legs walk into a pair of loosely-woven blue-striped stockings, and know that, by his exertion in the coming dance, the perspiration will ooze out, dirt and all, and be disseminated in a very attenuated, though palpable, form, into the olfactory nerve of the bystanders. Besides, those ladies who have had the pleasure of witnessing his little innocent preliminaries, will not allow the fact to remain with themselves, and the poor fellow, instead of sporting his twelve inches of foot, will have a chance after all his anxiety to sit alone ingloriously in his dirt, with his yard of clay before him.
    Every one is free to visit the Archery Rooms, in masquerade or not, as fancy or necessity may advise; and, doubtless, nudity might be accommodated if impudence would push him on, but things having been, in the long course of ages, tortured from their natural shapes, art steps into the place of native innocence and simplicity, and Monmouth-street finery covers the dirt of the back settlements.
    The well-dressed young gentlemen who may always be seen at the "Archery" are the young would-be Waterfords of the day, had they the means; and had they, no doubt they would be terrible fellows - terrible in the extreme - there would be no withstanding them; the days of the Mohawks would be revived; but, on second thoughts, it may be questionable whether dare-devilism would expend itself on any other than inanimate objects. Fortunately where the money of a marquis can screen him from the more severe penalties of the law, these droll young men about Town, not having that panacea, are subjected to its visits, to their great and excessive inconvenience. This, likely enough, accounts for their sprees taking place in the dead of the night, when they may prowl about in perfect safety from the police. Accident might, perhaps, lead a policeman from his usual watering-house and a short pipe, and he might catch one of these Waterfords with a knocker in his hand, or a drain-spout on his back, and a magistrate might fine him five pounds, in, in default &c.; but what a difficult job he would have to raise the cash. He would have to provide an intimate wit a pair of hob-nailed boots to run all over the town to collect the money from his friends, and he would inevitably lose his situation behind the counter.
    But to return to the Archery Rooms. About two o'clock in the morning, the announcement is made that "Coffee is ready." It is well that the proprietor has given it a name, as it would sorely puzzle any one to classify it, other than something wet and warm. Now coffee, or whatever else it may be, is not to be had for nothing, and money at the Archery Rooms is much more scarce than may be imagined; the inference, therefore, is, there are very few gentlemen who play the amiable by honouring that place of refreshment with their presence, or that of their fair partners. It is ludicrous to observe how many excuses they are compelled to adopt to prevent a shabby appearance with their partners; some collect in groups, and parade the room; others seem to discover that they have sticks, and look with great admiration and affection on them; many appear quite unconscious of any announcement having been made and anxiously enquire when the next set of quod-rilles (with particular emphasis on the first syllable) will be danced; and when the discordant strains issue from the elevated orchestra, and three or four half-starved cripples of musicians, styled by the proprietor, "Weippart's band increased," it is quite gratifying to see their faces lighted up with such sudden satisfaction. To it they go again in an uninterrupted whirl, till the tallow-dips sink into their sockets, their peculiar smell overpowering the odiferous exhalations already dripping down the walls, and the company adjourn to the coffee-room, where a "free and easy" at which a daughter who has been dancing and selling flowers all the evening, presides, terminates the amusements. Such is a sight and general sketch of the "Archery Rooms."

The Town, 8 July 1837

Black Sall

The Town was a "lads' mag" (to borrow a modern phrase) that flourished in the late 1830s, early 1840s, aimed at 'men about town'. The tone was often semi-pornographic, with features including 'Sketches of Courtezans', describing the life histories of well-known prostitutes, and the occasional description of 'low life' in the Pierce Egan style. The description below covers this ground - and I apologise, in advance, for 1830s racism, orientalism, sexism &c. - painting a fascinating picture of 'fast' life in the maritime world of the East End, and early-Victorian prostitution.


CHARACTERISTIC SKETCHES No. VI

"The lady with the diamonds and laces,
By day may heighten her charms.
But Sall, without any such graces,
At night lies as warm in your arms.

The night, when her sable o'ershades us,
Will veil all the pomp of the day;
Then Sall is as good as my lady,
And cats are all equally grey."

Our readers will no doubt be struck with the contrast which our present sketch forms to the bland elegance of that which graced the columns of our last number.
 settlement so long sought for by Mr. Buckingham in reference to the East, nor do we allude to the eastern land of the genii of our childhood - "The Arabian Nights." We refer only to the eastern hemisphere of our vast metropolis; and to aid us in our treatise, and to illustrate our views, we have taken the liberty of introducing Black Sarah, the far-famed mollisher of Radcliffe-highway, to the notice of our friends in the West.

  Oh, gentle readers, few of you, we fear, have busied yourselves with oriental research; few, indeed, are wise in the affairs of our Eastern settlements. We must explain: we do not mean the
    Blue-gate Fields is a small narrow turning about the centre of Ratcliffe-highway, leading into the back road, St. George's in the East; facing it in the Highway is a pawnbroker's and a gin shop; near to the top of it, in the road, are East India Company's Chinese and Lascar barracks, for the last thirty years, and we believe now, under the superintendence of Mr. Gole. - These same Lascars and Chinamen, though odd-looking persons in appearance, are still prone to the natural indulgence of the sex, and what our best-beloved cousin, the beauteous Ellen Clarke is to the Duke, the count and others, such is Black Sarah to these eastern wights; and the proximate situation of the before-mentioned Blue-gate Fields, where she resides, to the barracks, makes it very convenient for these luxurious sons of India to call and revel in the dusky charms of the finely-proportioned worsted-headed Sall.
    Sall, it will be instantly perceived, is not one of the insipid things they call genteel; she may be compared in maritime analogy, to a Dutch-built piratical schooner, carrying on a free trade under the black flag; ergo, in the same spirit, the ladies of her calibre in the west, may be said to resemble the pleasure yachts of noblemen and gentlemen, and to a certain extent, they more than bear out the metaphor. But let not our friends be deceived in Sarah - she is better than she looks:

"For 'tis vain to guess,
At woman by appearances;
They paint, and patch their imperfections
Of intellectual complexions,
And daub their tempers o'ver with washes
As artificial as their faces." - Hudibras

"Beauty soon grows familiar to the lover, fades to the eye, and palls upon the sense;" at any rate, it is evident our jolly Jack Tars entertain this opinion in its fullest sense, and act upon it oo; for many and many a stout and lusty lagger has bourne down upon, and hoisted the British standard over, our sable privateer, Black Sall.
    Sall is a good creature in her way. She never was taken before the cadi (for we must give the beak his eastern appellation) upon any change worse than "drunk and disorderly;" and she had been heard to declare that she "niver had more dan two mons wid labour since she valked de High-vay;" or, to use our own classic phraseology, since she has done the peripatetic on the pavé of the "city of (gin) palaces".
    We have heard talk of eastern magnificence, of seraglios, of baths, of mosaic pavements, of temples and mosques, dedicated to the worship of the Prophet Mahomet; but our eastern sketch treats not of them, and yet there is much of oriental luxurious indolence about the character of our women and men of the east end of the town. If we travel into the regions of Shadwell, Gravel-lane, the Match-walk, or Wapping, and take a peep up the little courts and allies there, we see stretched on the chairs and beds of the lower apartments, in true Sardinapalus-like style, the jolly Jacks smoking, not the hookah, like the Mussulman, but the short dudee, and beside them sit or squat, strictly after the oriental fashion, their sultanas for the time being, clad in the gorgeous and varied colour of the rainbow; and in the evening, the ear is saluted, not with the "lascivious pleasings of a lute" but the enlivening scrapings of a fiddle. Jack does not sit, like the great caliph, quietly, to observe his girls dance, but, in right good earnest, enters into the sport himself, toe and heeling it in company with his Moll, black or white; for Jack, as we said before, is not one of those "d-----d nasty particular sorts of fellow as stands nice about the colour of the craft, so long as she's a fast sailer." Such is black Sarah, and therefore a favourite with black and white; she is the very life and soul of the neighbouring lush cribs, and sticks to her locality as if she know no other. Who is there that knows anything of the Highway that will not immediately recognise our friend Sall, attired exactly as our artist has represented her, walking from ken to crib, in company with Cocoa Bet, Bet Moses, the Mouth of the Nile, Salmony-faced Mary Anne, Peg Mitchell, Poll Sellers, Kit Fury, Bet Blake, Long Nance Taylor, and others, who surround and form a kind of convoy to her of the black flag.
    The gay daughters of Eve, in this quarter, are rarely seen in bonnets; their morning habiliments are racy in the extreme; they actually walk the streets in a short bed-gown, or night-jacket. In the afternoon they dress and visit the public-houses as regularly as our fair ones in the west do the theatres. The Half Moon and Seven Stars in the Highway, the Ship and Shears and the Duke of York in High-street, Shadwell, and the Shakspeare's Head in Shakspeare's walk, we may mention as houses frequented by Sall and her numerous circle of bewitching satellites.

The Town, 8 July 1837

A Dress Lodger

Dress lodgers were prostitutes who were kept in permanent 'debt' to a madam/pimp for the cost of a dress which the procurer 'loaned' to them, often their only garment, without which they could not leave the house - a form of sex slavery. They were sent out on the streets to pick up men, and carefully watched, in case they ran.

‘Mrs. Barrett had two dress lodgers (who gave up their infamous earnings to her) when I resided with her. Mrs. Barrett used to say to them at night, “Come, girls, the sooner you get out, the more chance you will have.” Mrs. Barrett had all the money they produced; if they were backward to go out, she would threaten them, and sometimes beat them. She would call 3l. 10s. a bad week’s work; a great number of boys under the age of 15 would come to the house, mostly on Sunday evenings. They were encouraged to do so. About the latter end of last December one of her dress lodgers left, and the same night Mrs. Barnett told me to get my bonnet and shawl and accompany her and Mrs. Phillips, her aunt, who keeps a house of the same description, over London-bridge. Near the Town-hall we met Charlotte Waller. We went out to look for honest girls. Mrs. Barnett said, ‘My dear, where are you going?’ She said she was looking for her father, and had travelled 112 miles, and could not find her parent. Mrs. Barrett said she hoped she was a good girl, that I was her servant, and that she wanted another to nurse her children and inquired if she would go home with her. The girl appeared surprised, but after a little consideration went along with us. When we got home, the girl appeared astonished at the house, and Phillips and Barnett talked together in the Hebrew language. I was then told to take her up stairs to bed, and by my mistress’s order I brought her clothes down, and the next morning took up a light dress, which she at first refused to wear, as she said she was in mourning; but on my telling her my mistress never allowed her servants to wear their own clothes, she consented. She had some money about her, which I took to my mistress, by her order. The girl had a bundle when we met her, which Barnett took, and I don’t know what came of it. The girl appeared surprised that she was not set out to work. The next night Barnett took her out, and they returned with a stout gentleman, between whom and Mrs. Barnett some conversation took place. Liquor was sent for, and Charlotte Waller was forced to drink; she was then sent up stairs ... I heard a shriek and went up stairs; the stout man was there with Miss Waller, who said ‘You are a witness to my murder’. My mistress called me down and scolded me, saying that I had no business there. The man went away out at the back door. After this Miss Waller was compelled to receive the visits of some man every night. Mr. Barnett was always watching her. I thought, if she was a virtuous girl, she was a great fool. On the following Sunday she was ill, and could not go out. Mrs. Barnett got her a bottle of physic, and brought home some boys. Waller was forced to go out afterwards but walked with great difficulty. On Tuesday, she said she would not go out any longer, she would sit on the steps of a door and die, before she would pursue such a horrible course of life any longer. Mrs. Barnett abused her, and she said she should not skulk there again, although she was very ill, and people remarked, ‘God help the poor creature, where did she come from?’ When she could scarcely move about, Mrs. Barnett used to abuse her dreadfully. Waller was a quiet inoffensive girl. I knew that Phillips and Barnett had agreed to divide her earnings, because they were both together when she was picked up and decoyed to Coburg-street. She often lamented her situation to me. She was sent to the hospital and died there.’

11 March 1835 Times

'London Brothels'

LONDON BROTHELS

In our writings under this head, we wish it to be clearly understood that we are not the advocates of vice and profligacy. Our sketches are intended to serve a great moral purpose; and we shall endeavour to say nothing to offend the most fastidious.

    It has been calculated by the society for the prevention of juvenile prostitution, that, exclusive of the city, there are 1500 brothels in the metropolis, and we may presume this census only includes the houses of a public description, and principally in low neighbourhoods. The objects of this association, at once recommend themselves to the consideration of the humane and benevolent. As good wine needs no bush, so the cause of real philanthropy needs little comment at the hands of a public writer. It is not liekly that we should find amongst the 1500 houses many of the private aristocratical nunneries with which the west end abounds. In the most stylish streets where, from appearances, you would imagine, that none but the patrician hosts hold sway, we find, emblazoned in the Court Guide, the names and residences of the common prostitutes of ton. Jermyn-street, Cleveland-row, Bury-street, St. James’s Place, Piccadilly, Regent-street, and other streets in St. James’s may be mentioned as places where they are located. Again, in the fashionable purlieus of Portman-square, the ‘birds of paradise’ nestle in flocks, supported in splendour and luxury, in open defiance of popular prejudice and parochial interference. Somerset-street, Hereford-street, Connaught-terrace, Seymour-street, Berkeley-street, are all alike favoured in the season by the visits of the ‘terrestrial feathered race.’ That they are birds of passage is evident from the fact of their migrating with the rest of the elite of town, either to watering places or inland cities of amusement, as soon as the west-end of London assumes a dull appearance. In York-street, Baker-street, we find a brothel kept positively, for the sole accommodation of a noble duke, and he far advanced in years. Of this house, and some others, we shall treat more fully, under the head of Sketches of Courtezans in the future numbers of The Town. We shall, goodnaturedly, set forth the pecadilloes of his grace, and his fair hair’d inamorato; for we quarrel not with gallantry, and war not with the fair, however frail they may be. Still we can safely promise our readers much amusement at the expensive of his graceless grace.

    Lord Viscount Gage lately presided at a meeting of the society we have alluded to. His lordship concluded by stating that they had met to oppose the great Moloch which has impressed the foulest blot on a civilized community; the abandonment of thousands upon thousands of poor innocent female children to hopeless infamy and vice. We know not if the noble duke, so creditably mentioned, has enrolled his name amongst the list of subscribers to this laudable institution; perhaps his grace thinks it better to have a interview with the poor deluded creatures, and in private bestow that charity and advice, which would appear like ostentation to offer in public.

    The private brothels of the aristocracy seldom contain more than three women; the lady of the house, or lady abbess, generally occupies the parlours; Lord Squander keeps a lady on the first floor; and the second is rented by a damsel of doubtfl age, possessing the relics of great personal attraction, who piques herself upon her small ancle, &c., and whose friend does the mysterious, calls himself Mr. James, and is designated by his mistress as “my city man”. The soubriquet of “city man” is sometimes, however, changed for “my strawberry friend;” for, if the gentleman happens to have a penchant for that fruit, or any other, he gets baptized accordingly. In like manner, if he has ever, in the plenitude of his liberality, purchased half a dozen pair of silk stockings, for a new year’s gift for the lady, he immediately becomes “my stocking man;” so he is named according to his deeds or predilections.

    We do not mean to assert that these ladies, living thus privately, are constant to their respective protectors; it is the nature of women to this class to be faithless. The lady abbess in the parlours has got a good friend who pays her rent; the receipts of her house are not inconsiderable, considering it all let; still there are rumours than an old gentleman in black, with short inexpressibles, wearing powder and a pig-tail, is occasionally seen knocking at the door; and the big, broad-shouldered fellow from the barracks, who enters the house by the area steps, it is faintly conjectured, is not old Sarah the cook’s ‘cousin’; in fact, the boy that cleans the knives and shoes, upon one occasion, made a communication to Lord Squander’s lady, about the mysterious appearance of a pair of trooper’s boots, that occasionally obtruded themselves upon his notice to be cleaned; that he could not find the master for them, unless, as was faintly conjectured by the boy, he “vos in missus’s bed-room”. Lord Squander’s lady is sometimes seen riding out, in the cab of Lord Squander’s friend; and the top-sawyer  in the second floor, once a week regularly dresses herlsef as a respectable scullion, and is watched to an introducing-house kept by old Madame Somebody, in some street near to such a square.

The Town, June 10 1837

Strict Ballroom

Sometimes, when you are asked to dinner, your host and hostess will conduct you with them to a ball, your conduct on this occasion, therefore, will form our next subject of comment. The proprieties of ball-room etiquette are very nice and should be carefully studied by those who wish to keep on good terms with that sex which forms the great charm and ornament of all society. Dancing is an accomplishment which, though generally assiduously cultivated by the female sex, is too often neglected or disregarded as a necessary branch of a gentleman's education.In our great public schools no provision is made for it in the academical course; and the boy of good family who is sent to them must learn the art, if he learn it at all, by fits and starts, during his holidays, and, as is very often the case, he will dislike to do so even then, for fear of being laughed at by his schoolfellows for cultivating so effeminate an accomplishment. Nature has made every Frenchman and Frenchwoman agile, and has implanted in all classes as love - almost a passion - for dancing; and if Art were called in to enforce universally on our countrymen the elegancies and proprieties of this delightful exercise, she might, without injury to our more manly virtues, make us "a nation of dancers" as well musicians. Many object to dancing because it has been abused to bad purposes, but is has been abused only in company with many other good things; and if late hours, bad associations, and habits of excitement - often ending in a languor as mischievous as dangerous - are the common results of this exercise, these surely are not inseparable from dancing; and the best way to counteract these results is to provide proper hours, proper places, and proper rules and regulations for its enjoyment.

On entering a ball-room and especially when the company is large, you will perceive several individuals who officiate as 'masters of ceremonies', or stewards for the occasion. We are here, of course, speaking of a public ball-room, for, at a private party, the host and hostess will introduce parties to each other. The duty of the steward is to see that everything is conducted with order and propriety in a way conducive to the enjoyment of the company, and to procure partners for any strangers that may be present. If a stranger see a young lady in the room, apparently disengaged, with whom he desires to dance, the steward will present him to her, unless there be a material difference of rank between the two parties. But a stranger must, on no account, go up to a lady in a public room and ask her to dance with him, as that is considered to be presumption. A ball-room acquaintance does not constitute an acquaintance out of the ball-room, and, therefore, you must not consider that you have a right to address your partner of the night before, should you happen to see her elsewhere. If you find her conversation agreeable, and she appears to find your conversation to her taste, she will give the first sign of recognition herself, on the next occasion of meeting. Do not appear in a ball-room with black gloves on. It is said to be a sign that the person wearing them does not intend to dance, but this is an innovation. White gloves are always the etiquette of a ball-room; and you must be careful not to dance without gloves, as this is considered offensive to a lady. Lead your partner in the dance; do not drag her, or take hold of her hand too tightly.

It may not be considered a disgrace not to be able to dance, as we are not obliged to learn that accomplishment unless we please; but it is quite evident that it is better for those who do not dance to stay away from a public ball-room. But, if anyone in the ball-room ask you, with a kind of sneer: "Don't you dance?" there is no occasion for feeling ashamed to reply in the negative.

A ball-room dress should be as light, and as little cumbersome, as possible - such as, in fact, is most desirable for the purposes of quick movement. Gentlemen should wear black trousers; white waistcoat, or an embroidered black one; black dress coat; black or white neck-cloth; dress boots or pumps; and black silk stockings, with light-coloured gloves. Ladies should have their hair neatly and prettily done, and should not wear flowers and bows of a mixed colour. Dingy white should be avoided in shoes, and other things, and cleaned gloves should never be worn. The top of the ball-room is at the same end as the orchestra, when that is at the end. When the music is in the middle the top is farthest from the door.

If a lady be taken by a gentleman to a ball, he leads her to a seat. While dancing with her, he will pay her exclusive attention, and at the close of a dance will invite her to take refreshments. After leading the lady to her seat, he will leave her with a bow, or, if she think proper, will converse with her for a little time before leaving her. He may claim her hand for one of the subsequent dances, and then he will seek another partner for the ensuing dance.

Usually, both at public and private balls, the dancing is adjourned between twelve and one o'clock to allow time for the supper. To this necessary refreshment, each gentleman must escort his partner in the last dance, or if she has been already engaged for that purpose, he should then offer his services to any lady who may have accompanied him. Should he be alone in the ball-room, it would be polite in him to offer his arm to any lady in the room who is without a companion, and it would be very proper, during the dancing, to engage with a lady for a partner. The gentleman must wait up on the lady whom he has escorted to the supper-table, and not venture to take any refreshment himself until all her wants have been attended to. The gentlemen of the company, in most cases, prefer to stand and wait upon the gentler sex, and when their fair partners have retired (it being considered good manners to do so as soon as the demands of the appetite are satisfied), to sit down to this refection together.

When the ball is approaching its termination, or when the ladies of a party appear desirous to leave the festive scene, the gentlemen who have danced with them will consider it their privilege to call their carriage, and escort them to it; but the gentlemen must be careful not to volunteer their services in escorting their partners home, as that is considered an impropriety. If they have engaged in an animated and agreeable conversation, it may no be out of place, on leaving, to express a respectful hope that the acquaintance may be further cultivated; but this should be only ventured upon in a case where little doubt is entertained of the propriety and acceptability of the offer.

These rules are applicable to private as well as to public balls.

With regard to the dancing itself, we may make a few remarks on the most popular dances, and the etiquette required in engaging in them. The Quadrille may be considered old fashioned by certain young persons, but it will always retain its place in our assemblies as the most pleasant and entertaining dance, and therefore, we give it the first place. It is very easy to learn this dance, for it requires little agility and skill; indeed, little beyond actual walking through the steps is required. If possible, a gentleman will escort his partner to the "top" place; should that be occupied, he will secure the next in position. There were originally six figures in the Quadrille; but, of these, only five are danced now - "Paine's first set," two sets of "Lancers," the "Caledonians," and the "Parisian."

The "Schottische" is the favourite dance of the German peasants, and is a kind of mixture of the waltz and the polka. Some people dance it advancing and retiring, but it is more convenient to dance it to the right and left. In this dance the gentleman will exercise caution in taking hold of his partner's waist; and avoid pressing it, except in the lightest manner, as any such dereliction of good manners may entail angry looks on the part of the lady, and, probably, result in a disinclination on her part, to accept the hand of the offender in future. This caution will apply to the "Waltz" and the "Polka" equally with the "Schottische."

The "Waltz" (which it may be observed, should be pronounced "valtz") is of various kinds; there are the common waltz, the waltz a deux temps, the waltz called the "Redows", and the waltz "Cellarius". Of these, the second is the most fashionable.

The "Polka" is a foreign novelty, and its popularity is almost unprecedented. From its nature, great decorum and propriety are necessary in dancing it; that the lady should lean too heavily on the gentleman, or that the latter should press too closely on his partner, is considered a violation of good manners, which is not tolerated either in private circles or in public assemblies of reputation.

These are the chief dances in vogue. We may here remark that, although it is necessary in a public room to abstain from forcing an acquaintance on anyone, yet acquaintances are made in ball-rooms which, carefully prosecuted, ripen into friendships and not unfrequently terminate in a still dearer connection. Good temper is an essential element of ball-room success. Do not unnecessarily allow any little annoyance resulting from another couple coming into collision with you in the dance, or from your partner being found engaged to another after she has declined the offer of your hand - to irritate you, or to deprive you of the polite calmness which good-breeding requires. Avoid these indications of ill-temper, be polite to your partner, gentlemanly and obliging to all the company with whom you may happen to converse, and your society will be considered acceptable. If these are the necessary formalities of a gentleman's conduct in a ball-room, they may, with a few alterations, comprise those of a lady's on the same occasion. A lady has a perfect right to exercise her own choice in accepting or declining the offer of a gentleman for her hand in a dance and no man of sense would consider a refusal in the light of a personal objection, or resent it as a personal insult. It is only necessary that politeness and proper consideration should be shown in the manner of the lady declining the offer; of course, she should never, either from a motive of vanity, or from a change of temper, or a whim, accept another partner after such a refusal. A lady should always adopt this simple rule of good-breeding when she refuses to dance. In the ball-room, she should be neatly but not gaudily dressed, graceful and gentle, and, at the same time, cautious not to overstep the bounds of propriety and modesty, and she may rely upon it that she will never want a partner in the dance, or continue without  the companionship of a gentleman through the joyous whirl of life.

'The Science of Etiquette, Deportment and Dress', in The London Journal, 16 May 1857