A Dance on Sunday

A Dance on Sunday
Written By James H. Martineau

A dance by Latter Day Saints on Sunday would justly be considered out of order in any well regulated community, but one at which the writer took part many years ago is worth mention. It was July, 1851 in Parowan.

The people were assembled on Sunday afternoon in the log school house, which was used also for religious and other meetings, and dances, and which by the way, was the first house erected in the colony – when Walker, the great Utah Chieftain, arrived with a large band of warriors and squaws, returning from a predatory expedition the Colorado River. Walker and his brother Ammon, came at once to meeting and were invited to seats on the stand and asked to speak. Walker made a short address in the Ute tongue, which was interpreted sentence by sentence by Ammon, who spoke English quite well.

Walker said he had heard much about the Mormon dances – that they were fine – in fact, unequalled; but he had never seen any, and would like very much to do so. He was told his wish should be granted, and that tomorrow evening we would have a dance in the school house, to which he and his men would be welcome.

Walker replied that this would not do as he was on his way to Salt Lake City and could not wait all that day – indeed, could not waste any time in Parowan. For this reason he asked - and in fact required, in no uncertain manner – that the dance be given “today, this afternoon – immediately”

The presiding authorities of the colony hastily discussed the demand and as we were nearly 300 miles from any assistance should help be needed in case of trouble, the colony being weak in numbers, it was considered best not to displease the Indians, who knew no difference between Sunday and any other day, and to give them the dance they desired.

Accordingly, meeting was at once dismissed, a man sent for his fiddle, and all repaired a short distance to a level piece of ground, accompanied by all the Indians, about a hundred in number. The fiddler came, a cotillion was formed, and the dance commenced. Not a drop of rain had fallen for months, and our dancing floor, destitute of vegetation, soon became very dusty with the energetic tramping of feet and swish of women’s skirts; during the second cotillion one could hardly see the opposite couple for dust. But we all did our best and most artistic dancing to suitably impress our dusky visitors, that they might see that they had not been misinformed as to our ability on the “light fantastic toe.”

Great was our astonishment at the end of the third cotillion as another set was just forming when Walker angrily shouted: “Stop! Get off the ground! You don’t know how to dance! The one lied who told me Mormons could dance! They spoke with a forked tongue! Go home and don’t try anymore dance till you know how = not like papooses! I’ll show you how to dance!”

He spoke a few words to his men and about 60 of them took their places, forming a perfect circle, all facing inwards, while a couple with their tom-toms, or rude drums squatted just outside and began beating time, singing in a monotonous chant, “Ay-yah, ay-yah! Ay-ah, ay-yah!”

The dance consisted of simply stepping at each drum beat – fist to the right, then at a special drum-thump circling to the left, and so on alternately, for about 20 minutes.

We were all astonished. In all their movements, stopping or changing direction, as they circled, there was not the least crowding or jostling or moving in other than as a perfect circle as if one had been marked on the ground; and to all appearances every foot touched the ground at precisely the same instant. They scarcely raised a dust.

When Walker saw he had sufficiently impressed us and instructed us he stopped the dance; saying to us, “Now you can see how to dance – to dance like men, not like papooses, who know nothing.” And away he and his men went, shortly continuing his way as if disdaining longer to stay with so uncultivated a set as we were.

To an onlooker our appearance must have been anything but dignified and inviting. Imagine a hot day in July, faces covered in dust and lined with furrows down which had coursed streams of perspiration gendered by heat and violent exercise, and clothing with colors indistinguishable for dirt! No wonder Walker looked upon us as a disreputable set, unworthy of further notice.