Holland and Belgium are alike unproductive of dancing of much choreographic value. The strength of the people is not accompanied by either the lightness or agility found in dancing nations. As a coincidence, it is notable that dancing does not flourish in regions of wooden shoes. The Dutch have a species of sailors’ dance called the Mâtelot, performed by groups of men and women; but it is a romp and little or nothing more. This is characteristic of the dances of the Netherlands, as is confirmed by genre pictures from the time of Teniers down to the present.
The Waltz, it should be said at this point, is universal. If ever it is asserted that the people of a locality do not dance, an exception may be made to cover the Waltz, so long as the locality referred to is in the Occident. The seeming caution with which peasants perform their Waltzes practically removes them from the category of dancing, though not from that of humour.
France, the Eden of the Grand Ballet, the home of a race of lovers of beauty, might be expected to abound in rich character dances; but the exact reverse is true. The people of the country are, first of all, workers; the dances that enliven their fêtes are the careless celebration of children released from confining tasks. The principal cities have their opera ballets; through them is supplied the national demand for choreographic beauty.
The old name of la Bourrée survives in Auvergne. In its present form it bears no resemblance to the old Bourrée of eighteenth-century courts, but is one of those informal frolics of an indefinite number of couples, hand-clapping, finger-snapping, and energetic bounding, mingled with shouts of joy.
The Farandole is popular in the South of France. Under its name a chain of boys and girls, united by handkerchiefs that they hold, “serpentines” and zigzags in directions dictated by the caprice of their leader, perhaps traversing the length of the streets of a village. From time to time the leading couple will halt and form their arms into an arch for those following to pass under; or again stop the procession in such a way as to wind up the line into a compact mass. Again the game partakes of the nature of “follow the leader,” the whole party imitating the leader in any antic he may perform.
The ancient Contredanses—which word England changed to Country Dances, of frequent mention in story—were the roots of modern Quadrilles. These, however, are polished out of any semblance to character dances; they are of the ballroom and infinitely removed from the soil.
Germany, with its fondness for legend and care in its preservation, would be a fertile field for search on the part of a compiler of ancient observances more or less allied to dancing. A specimen of the latter is the Perchtentanz of Salzburg. Perchta is another name for Freya, Woden’s consort and the mother of the Northmen’s gods. She is powerful even in these modern times, and malicious unless propitiated by proper formulæ of actions and words. Placing a spoonful of food from each dish of the Christmas dinner for her on the fence outside the house is one of the tributes. She has spirit-followers: some kindly, called “schön Perchten,” others wild and fierce, known as “schiachen Perchten.” The latter alight on houses and scream mischievously, lure men into danger and punish undiscovered crimes.
At irregular intervals is performed the Perchtentanz; not apparently as an act of propitiation, but presumably having that motive as its origin. Good and evil Perchten both are represented. On an accompanying page of European miscellany is a drawing of one of the “beautiful.” The huge plaques are covered with sparkling trinkets and adorned with braid, ribbon and embroidery. Stuffed birds are also popular for their decorations; a dozen of them may be affixed to the lower plaque, a
