DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.62133#0225
THE SCHAFFLER DANCE AND CARNIVAL.
209
banished by an excess of merriment scarcely less fearful,
—the reaction of lacerated human sords !
Every seventh year, therefore, in commemoration of this
event, is the Schaffter Tanz performed,—and this, fortu-
nately for me, happens to be the year.
On Monday the Coopers danced before the Palace,—the
royal family witnessing their performance from the windows;
and this morning they have danced before the AV ar Office,
—where I have seen them. An acquaintance of mine
having a friend in the War Office, we were promised seats
at a window; and accordingly, at the appointed hour, made
our way thither,—and soon found ourselves seated com-
fortably and gazing down on the crowd below us. But
where were my antique costumes ?—where was all the wild
poetry of the dance, as I had imagined it ? I had expected
too much. This is what I saw:—
A ring of spectators, in the centre of which moved in a
variety of figures in character not unlike our country
dance, our Sir Roger de Coverley, or the various tours of
the German cotillon, a score or so of young men dressed
in close-fitting jackets of scarlet trimmed with silver lace,
(but the jackets had a sadly modern air,) black velvet
breeches, white stockings, shoes, little short yellow leathern
aprons adorned with broad crimson satin ribbon fringed
with gold, and on their heads modern-shaped light green
caps, in which were stuck little nodding white and blue
feathers. The dress was very disappointing : not to be
compared in antique cut and association with the quaint,
parti-coloured costume in which I once saw a troop of
“ English Plough-Bullocks” attired.
The dance itself, however, was very pretty; especially
from the different effects produced by garlands of fresh,
green box which the dancers bore in their hands. The
lively music, the bright contrast of the scarlet jackets with
the fresh green of the wreaths, and the piquancy of the
vol. i. p
209
banished by an excess of merriment scarcely less fearful,
—the reaction of lacerated human sords !
Every seventh year, therefore, in commemoration of this
event, is the Schaffter Tanz performed,—and this, fortu-
nately for me, happens to be the year.
On Monday the Coopers danced before the Palace,—the
royal family witnessing their performance from the windows;
and this morning they have danced before the AV ar Office,
—where I have seen them. An acquaintance of mine
having a friend in the War Office, we were promised seats
at a window; and accordingly, at the appointed hour, made
our way thither,—and soon found ourselves seated com-
fortably and gazing down on the crowd below us. But
where were my antique costumes ?—where was all the wild
poetry of the dance, as I had imagined it ? I had expected
too much. This is what I saw:—
A ring of spectators, in the centre of which moved in a
variety of figures in character not unlike our country
dance, our Sir Roger de Coverley, or the various tours of
the German cotillon, a score or so of young men dressed
in close-fitting jackets of scarlet trimmed with silver lace,
(but the jackets had a sadly modern air,) black velvet
breeches, white stockings, shoes, little short yellow leathern
aprons adorned with broad crimson satin ribbon fringed
with gold, and on their heads modern-shaped light green
caps, in which were stuck little nodding white and blue
feathers. The dress was very disappointing : not to be
compared in antique cut and association with the quaint,
parti-coloured costume in which I once saw a troop of
“ English Plough-Bullocks” attired.
The dance itself, however, was very pretty; especially
from the different effects produced by garlands of fresh,
green box which the dancers bore in their hands. The
lively music, the bright contrast of the scarlet jackets with
the fresh green of the wreaths, and the piquancy of the
vol. i. p