Origins of Dance -- The Foxtrot

Note:  This is a humor piece I first wrote about 12 years ago when I was dancing.  I liked to combine my two favorite activities at the time - dancing and writing - to create some little articles to amuse my dance colleagues.  I've tweaked it a bit since then.  Any resemblance to fact is purely coincidental.

Popular myth has held that the Foxtrot was invented early in the 20^th century by a washed-up, alcoholic vaudevillian by the name of Fox.  In fact, Fox had merely plagiarized an ancient dance in a last-ditch effort to rescue his sinking entertainment career and keep from winding up on the street.  The basic concept behind the real origins of the Foxtrot can be traced to the very dawn of human civilization, though its more practical design and practice date to more recent times: the late Middle Ages.

The Thrill of the Hunt

Since humans first dropped out of the trees, we have hunted.  And like today, men have always bragged and waxed artistic about their hunting feats.  Early Cro-Magnon hunters frequently went into dank caves to paint exaggerated stories about their hunting exploits on the rock walls.  No doubt they danced the “Buffalo Boogie” or the “Mammoth Mash” in front of their finished creations. 

Later, the great hunters of human tribes would create masks and costumes depicting the animals they had defeated, then they would consume high-quality, mind-altering herbs (which were totally legal at the time) and dance wildly around campfires.  It was considered a great way to impress the cave chicks, and although the practice has changed a bit since then, the basic concept has remained with us.

European Origins

We now fast forward through centuries of hunting, dancing and impressing chicks to medieval Europe.  By the late middle ages, the waltz had already been invented (by the Irish, of course) and had swept the continent.  It enjoyed a period of immense popularity, owing mostly to the fact that people did not have to know how to count past three, which was well within the range of almost all the aristocracy and even many of the peasants. 

But people were becoming bored with the waltz because it seemed frivolous; it didn’t really “symbolize” anything significant in their lives.  Grudgingly, however, they waltzed at elaborate castle parties since there was not yet electricity to power the discos.

At about this same time, another diversion had developed: the Fox Hunt.  Aristocratic types all over Europe, bowing to the male need to hunt live prey, had joined in the fun of gathering large groups of men on horses to chase little foxes across the countryside, aided, of course, by immense packs of vicious dogs.  What grand sport it was!  No place was this sport more popular than in England where amassing overpowering forces against essentially helpless foes was always considered “good sport.”  Just ask the Irish or the Scots. 

After the hunt, the men would all retire to the Hunt Club to eat, drink, smoke and recount their daring deeds of hunting bravery in subduing the always-dangerous fox.  But something was missing; there was no way to artistically express or recount the thrill of the hunt, nor were ladies allowed in the club to be impressed. 

This is when the concept of the Fox Hunt Ball was invented.  Essentially, the lord of the manor would throw a grand party to celebrate the successful hunt.  Men would invite their ladies, and just to ensure good sport, plenty of unattached ladies would also be invited.  Once gathered, they would eat, drink, and, of course, dance (ho hum) the waltz.  The parties often ended early due to boredom.

We CAN Count Past Three!

One evening during a Fox Hunt Ball in lower east Essex-on-the-Bottomly, a lady asked a lord how the hunt had gone, and he proceeded to describe it to her in detail.  This was between waltzes, and the man not only described the hunt verbally, but even acted it out for the lady (remember, he’s trying to impress chicks here). 

He described how the fox had been strutting along in the sun, then suddenly dashed for cover when it heard the hounds.  He and the other hunters pursued the prey, leaping their steeds over logs and streams, and turning suddenly, to and fro, in reaction to the scurrying canine. 

As the lady watched the fine gentleman act out the various movements, the boredom caused her mind to wander, and suddenly a thought occurred to her and she quickly embraced him in a waltz-like dance position (this was the only one they knew, you understand). 

“Keep going,” she encouraged excitedly.  And she moved with him as he again described the hunt.  Taking two steps forward, he described how the fox would strut so confidently, but then, upon hearing the hounds, it would take two quick side steps toward the cover of the bushes.  Thrusting his left hand to the side and turning to his left, they would “promenade” in that direction, depicting how the hunters would stalk their prey. 

Other movements followed: turns and intricate new variations.  Watching the couple moving about the floor, the minstrels began playing in – get this – 4/4 time, creating new music all the while.  Other couples watched incredulously, then joined on the floor and copied the movements. 

Smiles were on everyone’s faces for having discovered not only an alternative to that boring old waltz, but the realization that they could indeed count past three.  Before long, they had created a new dance that swept the land: the Fox Hunt Dance.

A Fox by Any Other Name

The Fox Hunt Dance had become the rage of England and soon found its way to the continent (the Irish, of course, refused to dance it - a trend that continues with some stubborn Irishmen to this day). 

Someone conjured a rumor that in the dance, the lady’s role symbolized the wily, hunted fox, while the man symbolized the daring hunter.  Naturally, this view, which also became widespread across Europe, circulated only among the men.  As this perception of the dance became accepted – and of course, men being men – it was most common to hear ladies at the Fox Hunt Balls being secretly referred to as “foxes” (gentlemen never called them vixens).   

Frequently, two “gentlemen” off to the side, taking a break from the dancing and enjoying a glass of brandy, would eye the ladies lasciviously as they danced and remark, “Look there, William.  Now that fox certainly can trot!”  Over time, this not only gave rise to the use of the word “fox” to describe an attractive lady, but men began referring to the dance as the Trot of the Foxes, soon shortened to the Foxtrot.  Ladies also accepted the name, never fully understanding its origins… until the late 20^th century.

Modern Times

The dance lost its luster after the Americas were discovered and earthy native dances were brought back to Europe, along with tobacco, corn, potatoes and parrots.  Surprisingly, the attraction of the native dances, complete with animal masks and costumes, did not last long in Europe, except in the Iberian Peninsula where they formed the basis for all sorts of Latin dances (but that’s another story).  And when the Europeans returned to tradition, they fell back to the boring old waltz, completely forgetting about the Fox Hunt Dance (this is often blamed on the French).

It wasn't until this century that the old Fox Hunt Dance was revitalized when that washed-up vaudevillian, Fox, found old accounts of the Foxtrot and figured he could reinvent the dance under his own name.  He now rests in his grave, smug in the belief that he successfully scammed the world; but, of course, thanks to us, you now know better.  

So as you dance today’s Foxtrot, remember the unknown lady whose sudden inspiration while being told a boring hunting story created the actual movements, think of the snickering lords whose crude banter about the ladies helped shape the terminology, pay homage to those poor foxes that gave their lives for your dancing pleasure, and – most important – remember to count past three.

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