IRISH DANCING-MASTERS.
Five-and-twenty years ago, when I left Ireland, the original oraboriginal race of country dancing-masters was nearly extinct. By thistime, I presume, it has almost died out. Here and there a few may beseen,
"Rari nantes in gurgite vasto,"
but the light-heeled, light-hearted, jovial, genial fellows who wereactual Masters of the Revels in the district to which they respectivelybelonged, are nowhere.
There used to be as much pride (and property) in a villagedancing-master as in a village schoolmaster, in my young days, and Ihave heard of "many accidents by flood and field," caused by attempts toremove a dancing-master or a pedagogue, of high reputation, from onedistrict to another. In such cases, the very abduction being thestrongest possible compliment to his renown, the person who was "enticedaway by force," always made a point of offering no resistance, and wouldpassively and proudly await the result. Indeed, care was always takenthat such removal should be actual preferment, as, to ameliorate hiscondition, the residence provided for him in the new village, township,or barony, was always better than that from which he was removed.
As a general rule, the abduction, of schoolmasters was a favoritepractice in Kerry--where every man and boy is supposed to speakLatin[13]--while stolen dancing-masters did not abound in theneighbouring counties of Cork and Limerick. The natural inference isthat the County Kerry-men preferred the culture of the head, while theothers rather cared for the education of the heels.
[13] There are full grounds for this assertion. Classical learning has flourished in Kerry (under a hedge) from time immemorial. I recollect an illustrative anecdote. Two poor scholars who were travelling through Kerry, came to a farm-house, when faint with hunger, and foot-sore with walking; they went in, and modestly wanted "a drink of water," which was given them. On leaving the house, where they had expected something better than this scant hospitality, one of them exclaimed, "Ah, Pat, that's not the way that a farmer's wife would trate a poor scholar in our part of the world. 'Tis the good bowl of milk she'd give him, and not the piggin of cold water. She's a _malus mulier_." The other responded, "Say _mala_--it must be so to agree with the feminine _mulier_. Don't you know that _malus mulier_ is bad Latin?" "Hold your tongue," was the answer: "whatever it is, it is only too good for a niggard like _her_."
To have a first-rate hedge-schoolmaster was a credit to any parish. Tohave engrossed the services of an eminent _maitre de danse_ was almost amatter of considerable pride and boasting, but to possess _both_ ofthese treasures was indeed a triumph.
There was more pride, perhaps, in having a schoolmaster of greatrepute--more pleasure in owning a dancer of high renown. The book-manwas never known to dance, and the village Vestris was rarely able towrite his name. Thus they never clashed. One ruled by day, and the otherhad unquestioned sovereignty in the hours between dusk and dawn.
Such a being as a youthful dancing-master I never saw--never heard of.They were invariably middle-aged men, at the youngest; but professors of"the poetry of motion," who were about seventy, appeared the greatestfavourites. It was dreaded, perhaps, that the attraction of youth andgood dancing combined would be too much for the village beauties toresist. On the same system, in all probability, it was a _sine qua non_that the dancing-master should be married.
The Irish peasantry used to have a sort of passion for dancing. Hencethe necessity for a teacher. On stated evenings during the winter, nomatter what obstacles wet weather or dirty roads might present, a largecompany of pupils, from the age of ten to forty years, would assemble,in some roomy barn, possessing a smooth and hard floor ofclosely-pounded clay, to receive instructions in the saltatory art.Sometimes, when the teacher was ambitious, he would flourishingly openthe proceedings with what was called "a bit of a noration,"--the oratoryprincipally consisting of sesquipedalian words and mythologicalallusions, being composed by the schoolmaster--utterly unintelligible,but sounding largely, and delivered in an _ore rotundo_ manner and with"a laudable voice," as if the dancing-master really understood the wordshe uttered. Not taking particular pains to follow "copy," and frequentlyputting in words of his own when those written down for him had slippedout of his memory, these orations were amusingly absurd. They invariablycommenced with an allusion to Miriam dancing before Moses, after thepassage of the Red Sea, (on which occasion, no doubt, was first heard"the piper who played before Moses," familiarly named in Irishcolloquy,) and, passing down, through Homer and the classics, alwaysended with a warm eulogy on the antiquity of the dance.
In those days, the favourite exhibitions were the jig, the reel, thehornpipe, and the country-dance. The last-named was considereddreadfully genteel--too aristocratic, in fact, for the multitude--andwas learned and practiced (as courting and kissing often are) on thesly! The reel was countenanced--and no more. It was rather Scotch thanIrish. Every one was expected to be able to go that laborious piece ofamusement called "The Sailor's Hornpipe,"--faint vestiges of which areextant, to this hour, in nautical scenes,--as represented on the stage.Words cannot describe the evolutions of this remarkable dance, whenexhibited with all the scientific varieties of which it wascapable. The shuffles, cross-shuffles, jumps, hops, leaps, cuttings,slides, and so on, which were introduced, I am unable to describe. Themanner in which "heel-and-toe" was employed and varied, some ablerhistorian may record.
That the hours passed away on swift pinions at these dancing academies,may well be imagined. There was any quantity of flirtation at all times,and about half the marriages in the country owed their origin to these_reunions_. It is creditable to the proverbial good conduct of mycountrywomen, that loss of character rarely, if ever, resulted fromthese free-and-easy meetings.
The real glory of the evening, however, was when the dancing-master,after a world of solicitation, would "take the flure," in order to givehis admiring pupils a touch of his quality. On such an occasion, thedoor of the house would be lifted off its hinges, and placed in thecentre of the floor. Abandoning the little _kit_ (a small-sized violin)which was his companion at all other exhibitions, he would allow a blindpiper to "discourse most excellent music," and, on the door, wouldcommence that wondrous display of agility, known, in my time, as "coverthe buckle;"--a name probably derived from the circumstance that thedancing-master, while teaching, always wore large buckles in his shoes,and by the rapidity of motion with which he would make his "manytwinkling feet" perpetually cross, would seem to "cover" the appendagesin question. The great effort was to exhibit all varieties of steps anddances, without once quitting the prostrate door on which the exhibitortook his stand. The jumps, the "cuttings" in the air, the bends, thedives, the wrigglings, the hops--these were all critically regarded byhis audience, and sometimes rewarded with such exclamations as "That'sthe way,"--"now for a double cut,"--"cover-the-buckle, ye divel,"--"Oh,then, 'tis he that handles his feet nately." At the conclusion, when heliterally had danced himself almost off his legs, he would bow to thecompany, and--if he were very much a favourite, or had eclipsed allformer displays--one of the prettiest girls in the room would go round,plate in hand, and make a collection for him. How the ten-penny andfive-penny bits would tumble in, on those occasions--particularly if thefair collector could be induced to announce, with a blush and a smile,that she would take an extra donation on the usual terms, which meantthat, for five shillings into the plate, any gallant swain might brushthe dew from her own coral lips, on that occasion only and by particulardesire. Can you doubt, for a moment, that the likely "boy" who had beensitting by her side all the evening, making babies on her eyes (as thesaying is), and with his arm round her waist, just to steady her in herseat, would jump up and fling his crown-piece into the treasury--thoughthe pecuniary sacrifice would probably involve his being obliged todispense, for a few weeks more, with "the new Carline hat" on which hisdandyism had set its mind, for his Sunday adorning!
It was difficult for "an outsider" to become a spectator of the peculiar
modes of teaching adopted and practiced by these masters. At a smallextra rate, they would undertake to give instructions in that"deportment," of which the late Mr. Turvey-drop was such an illustriousexemplar. I never witnessed anything of this sort, but have conversed onthe subject with some who did. From what I could learn, the whole courseof tuition in this particular branch must have been ludicrous in theextreme. Besides lessons in standing, walking, sitting, and even leaningwith grace and ease, more recondite points were considered. Such were"how to slide out of a room backwards" (on the chance, no doubt, of someof the rustics having to appear at Court, before Royalty)--"how toaccept a tumbler of punch from a gentleman," touching the liquid withher lips, so as to leave a kiss within the cup, as Ben Jonsonadvises,--"how to refuse a kiss," and yet not destroy the hope of itsbeing accepted, a little later in the evening,--and, above all, "how totake a kiss," in the most genteel and approved manner of politeness!These instructions, super-added to a lesson that was called"the Grecian bend" (which was nothing less than a coquettish way ofleaning forward, with the eyes cast down, while listening to softnonsense from a favoured swain), were peculiar and private. The only wayin which the male sex could obtain a glimpse at such Eleusinianmysteries was by taking a recumbent position on the roof of the house,carefully removing a small portion of the thatch, and using eyes andears in that situation to the best advantage. If detected by the iratemaidens, the spy would run a fair chance of a scratched face andwell-boxed ears.
As might be expected, the country dancing-master sometimes had stupidand refractory pupils. There was a common method of giving theminstruction, which, for its practical simplicity, may be worth relating.When the pupil would persist in _not_ recollecting which foot was to beused, at particular periods, the dancing-master would take a rope madeof twisted hay, called a _suggaun_, and fasten it around one of thedelinquent's ankles. He would then take a similar bracelet of twistedwillow, denominated a _gad_, and put this on the other. Then, instead ofdirecting the pupil to the particular use or motion of the right leg orthe left, he would exclaim, "Rise upon _suggaun_," or "Sink upon _gad_,"and in this manner convey his instructions beyond a possibility ofmistake by even the most stupid!
Of course, where there was large company of young people, full of lifeand spirit, under pupilage to a not young instructor, a variety ofpractical jokes would be perpetrated, at his expense, every now andthen. They were almost invariably of a good-natured kind. One, whichmight be considered as to "be repeated every night until farthernotice," generally came off towards the end of the evening. A joyous,light-hearted damsel would suddenly start up, while the music wasplaying, and, placing herself before the dancing-master, with thatparticular description of curtsy called "a bob," silently challenge himto dance with her. Now, under all circumstances, except actual inabilityto move, the gentleman so challenged has nothing to do but pick up thegauntlet, and "take the flure." Then, challenger and challenged wouldcommence an Irish jig--a dance so violent that, writing in the dog-daysas I do, the very recollection of it makes me feel as if the barometerwas some two hundred in the shade. When the damsel had pretty well tiredherself, one of her fair friends would take her place, and so on until around dozen or so had had their turn. All this time, the doomed victimof a man had to continue dancing--and the point of honour was to do so,without giving in, as long as strength and wind lasted. The companywould gather round, forming a ring for the performers, and the wordwould be, "On with the dance" (as it was, at Brussels, on the eve ofWaterloo), until, at last, some male spectator would pityingly dashinto the circle, take the tired man's place, and permit the breathlessand exhausted victim to totter to a seat, gasping out a protest, as hedid, that he could have held out for half an hour longer, and wonderedwhy any gentleman should interfere with another gentleman's _divarshun_.
In the preceding story of "The Petrified Piper," mention is made of adancing-master commonly known as "Ould Lynch." He was an original, inmany respects, and, like many of his profession, was in a constantflutter of faded finery and actual poverty. He was so much a characterthat my father took rather a fancy to him, and had him often at thehouse, as a teacher of dancing, in the well populated town of Fermoy. Hehad small chance of earning what would keep life and soul together. Buthe was a quiet, unassuming man, better educated than most of his class,and full of anecdote. One social virtue he eminently possessed:--he wasone of the best backgammon players I ever saw, and (I speak itmodestly,) was very fond of me as a pupil.
Lynch was a County Limerick man, on the confines of "the Kingdom ofKerry," and informed me that, in the parish where he was brought up, thenatives had a passion for backgammon, and were wont, on high-days andholidays, to hold tournaments (on their favourite game) with theinhabitants of the next parish, in Kerry. Unfortunately, one daywhen a great trial of skill was appointed to come off, it turned outthat no backgammon box was forthcoming. Both parties had contrived toforget it. To send for the necessary implements would have been a wasteof time, when the combatants had "their souls in arms," and were "eagerfor the fray." In this dilemma, a lad who had a decided genius forexpedients suggested a plan by which, without delay, their mutual wishescould be realized. Under his advice, one of the meadows was fixed uponas the scene of action. The turf was removed at intervals, so as to makethe place present the semblance of a backgammon board, and substitutesfor men were readily found in the flat stones and slates with which theground abounded. The great difficulty was--the dice! They couldextemporize board and men, but how to raise the bits of ivory? The ladwas not to be baffled. He proposed that two men, one selected from eachparty, should sit on the ditch opposite each other, with "the board inthe centre, with their respective backs turned _from_ the combatants,and, in turn, should call out the numbers, as if they had been actuallythrown by dice! This brilliant idea was acted upon. A halfpenny wasthrown up to decide who should have first play, and the men on the ditchalternately called out, at will, any of the throws which might havebeen actually cast had the dice themselves been "to the fore."
Such primitive practice, I venture to say, had never before been appliedto the noble _science_ of backgammon. I use the word advisedly, because,with skill and judgment, what is called bad luck does not verymaterially affect the game. The art is to conquer, despite bad throwing.
Lynch succeeded a worthy named Hearne--a _nom de guerre_, his enemiesaverred, for the less euphonious one of Herring. Whatever his name, theman was quite a character. He fancied himself a poet, and wasparticularly fond of taking his favourite pupils aside to communicate tothem in a confidential manner, _sotto voce_, the latest productions ofhis muse,--it being expected that, a little later in the evening, thefavoured individuals should delicately draw him out and solicit him to apublic recital of his verses. After a good deal of pressing on theirpart, and a show of resistance on his, (which every one understood,) thelittle dancing-master would mount on a table, deliver a flourishingpreface in prose, and then go through the recitation, in a manner whichset description at defiance. At the conclusion of this feat, which wasduly encored, Hearne was wont to distribute copies of his compositionprinted on whity-brown paper, and the tribute of a five-penny bit wasexpected in acknowledgment of the same--simply, as he said, "to pay forthe printing." He had such a peculiar system of orthography--spellingthe words by the sound--that I venture, with all due diffidence, to putforward his claim to take precedence of the interesting and worthyfounders of the newspaper-nondescript, _The Fonetic Nuz_, at which theLondoners laughed heartily a dozen years ago. By some accident, I havepreserved a copy of one of Hearne's poetical compositions, in which hisown mode of spelling is carefully preserved, and I subjoin it as acuriosity,--a specimen of what emanated, some thirty years ago, from onewho belonged to the peculiar class (of which Grant Thorburn is the head)worthy of being called The Illiterate Literati!
"_A few lions addressed in prease of Mr. Jon Anderson, Esquire, by his humble servant, and votary of the Muses, Wm. Ahearne, profesor of dancing._
"Who
lives in this Eaden wich lyes to the easte Of Fermoy ould bridge and its pallasades; He is the best man on the Blackwater's breast, As thousans from povirty he has razed.
"There's no grand Pear in all Urop this day, With him can compare most certinly, In bilding a town of buty and sweay As Fermoy and its gay sweet liberty.
"Now, weagh well the case betwin him and those Who travel the globe and fair Itly, After skroozhing their tinnants hard when at home, And spinding their store most foulishly."
The most original idea in these "few lions," is the geographicalinformation that Italy is _not_ a part of the globe. In the pen-ultimateline, the poet may have hinted a little sly satire at the "at home" inhigh life, where the crushing of hundreds into a space where tens canscarcely sit in comfort is esteemed a great feat.
A wealthy attorney, named Henley, who had been kind to Hearne, was theobject of an eulogistic "pome." It ran somewhat thus:
There is a barrister of great fame In Fermoy, I do declare, Who administers strict justas Without bribery or dessate. May God prolong your days, Your Court to reglate, And force sly roges and villines To pay their dews and rates.