Showing posts with label Countess Lieven. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Countess Lieven. Show all posts

Friday, September 26, 2014

The Longitude and Latitude of St. Petersburgh

Political cartoons have been around a long time.  One of the most famous caricaturists of nineteenth century England was George Cruikshank.  Below is one of my favorites of his, dubbed the Longitude and Latitude of St. Petersburgh.


Why, you might ask?

The scene is Almack’s, that exclusive ladies' club of London.  The gentlemen all sport the requisite knee breeches and white stockings.  The ladies are in their finery, ostrich plumes waving.  And every eye is turned to the couple dancing to the music of the orchestra in the box at the upper left.  That couple, it is said, is Prince Pyotr Borisovich Kozlovsky of Russia and the Countess Lieven (later Princess). As you can see, they make quite a pair. 

It wasn't only their looks that contrasted.  The prince was from one of Europe’s oldest royal families, but wasn't particular bright or ambitious.  He was a bit of a womanizer and somewhat associated with literary circles, mostly through connections, not achievements.  He entered the diplomatic corps, served for a time in Sardinia, and was a part of the Congress of Vienna.  As wide as he was tall, he visited England with the Russian delegation in 1812 and seems to have paid court to many a lady, married or not.  The novelist Maria Edgeworth is credited as saying of him, “If he throws himself at my feet, he will never be able to get up again.” 

Dorothea von Lieven, on the other hand, also came from a Russian royal family and was wife to the Russian ambassador in London in 1812.  She was everything the prince was not--tall, slender, intelligent, and ambitious.  Her social skills made her invitations among the most sought after in the land, giving her husband’s career a major boost.  She was the first foreigner to be made a patroness of Almack’s and is said to have introduced the waltz to England.  Somehow, I doubt she saw herself dancing it with Kozlovsky and certainly not to be ridiculed in cartoon afterward.

The prince, however, thought the whole thing hilarious.  He would.

Friday, February 13, 2009

The Wicked Waltz

As you’ve probably noticed in the videos and posts the last couple of weeks, dancing was far from a contact sport in the early nineteenth century. Fingers touched fleetingly, hands brushed haltingly. This crowd would have fainted to see Dirty Dancing.

But the waltz changed everything.

Waltzing had been sweeping Europe for some time, but historians disagree on when it arrived in England. Some claim the Countess Lieven brought it back from Vienna in 1813 and introduced it at Almack’s. The Countess was one of the patronesses, those lady guardians Marissa talked about Tuesday. This caricature by George Cruikshank with her dancing with a Russian diplomat at Almack’s is dated 1813. Others say it was Tsar Alexander who first danced the waltz at Almack’s during his June 1814 visit to England. One account has him dancing it with the Countess and Lady Jersey, another of the patronesses (although not both together, I would imagine!).

Whenever the dance arrived, it caused quite a stir. Imagine, couples touching! Locked in each other’s arms! It was called scandalous, wicked, and immoral. The London Times reportedly condemned the waltz as unseemly. The infamous Lord Byron wrote a satirical poem about how shocking it was (I find it difficult to believe it actually shocked him!). As Marissa mentioned on Tuesday, the lady patronesses of Almack’s had to grant permission before a young lady could dance it there. And mothers often refused their daughters permission to dance it anywhere else!

The waltz wasn’t generally the Viennese waltz we think of today. It actually had a number of open and closed holds. I couldn’t find an exact video of the way I’ve seen it performed by experts, but this comes close.:



Not until 1816 did the Prince Regent himself bless the waltz by including it in a formal state ball. By the end of Victoria's reign, waltzing had become the dance of choice at many a private ball and public assembly, and looked a bit more like this:



Want to know more? Come back next week for some very special posts from the Oregon Regency Society!