Before the middle of the eighteenth century balls, or “dancing assemblies” had become popular in Philadelphia, and, being sanctioned by no less authority than the Governor himself, were frequented by the best families of the city.  In a letter by an influential clergyman, Richard Peters, we find this reference to such fashionable meetings:  “By the Governor’s encouragement there has been a very handsome assembly once a fortnight at Andrew Hamilton’s house and stores, which are tenanted by Mr. Inglis (and) make a set of rooms for such a purpose and consist of eight ladies and as many gentlemen, one half appearing every Assembly Night.”  There were a good many strict rules regulating the conduct of these balls, among them being one that every meeting should begin promptly at six and close at twelve.  The method of obtaining admission is indicated in the following notice from the Pennsylvania Journal of 1771:  “The Assembly will be opened this evening, and as the receiving money at the door has been found extremely inconvenient, the managers think it necessary to give the public notice that no person will be admitted without a ticket from the directors which (through the application of a subscriber) may be had of either of the managers.”

As card-playing was one of the leading pastimes of the day, rooms were set aside at these dancing assemblies for those who preferred “brag” and other fashionable games with cards.  But far the greater number preferred to dance, and to those who did, the various figures and steps were seemingly a rather serious matter, not to be looked upon as a source of mere amusement.  The Marquis de Chastellux has left us a description of one of these assemblies attended by him during the Revolution, and, if his words are true, such affairs called for rather concentrated attention: 

“A manager or master of ceremonies presides at these methodical amusements; he presents to the gentlemen and ladies dancers billets folded up containing each a number; thus, fate decided the male or female partner for the whole evening.  All the dances are previously arranged and the dancers are called in their turns.  These dances, like the toasts we drink at table, have some relation to politics; one is called the Success of the Campaign, another the Defeat of Burgoyne, and a third Clinton’s Retreat....  Colonel Mitchell was formerly the manager, but when I saw him he had descended from the magistracy and danced like a private citizen.  He is said to have exercised his office with great severity, and it is told of him that a young lady who was figuring in a country dance, having forgotten her turn by conversing with a friend, was thus addressed by him, ’Give over, miss, mind what you are about.  Do you think you come here for your pleasure?’”

XIII.  The Beauty of Philadelphia Women