(L’Ane et la Flûte.)
Many of these English emigrants have passed over the plains without knowing that they are in the United States, and look upon Mr. Brigham Young much as Roman Catholics of the last generation regarded the Pope. The Welsh, Danes, and Swedes have been seen on the transit to throw away their blankets and warm clothing, from a conviction that a gay summer reigns throughout the year in Zion. The mismanagement of the inexperienced travelers has become a matter of Joe Miller. AN ILLUSTRATION.An old but favorite illustration, told from the Mississippi to California, is this: A man rides up to a standing wagon, and seeing a wretched-looking lad nursing a starving baby, asks him what the matter may be: “Wal, now,” responds the youth, “guess I’m kinder streakt—ole dad’s drunk, ole marm’s in hy-sterics, brother Jim be playing poker with two gamblers, sister Sal’s down yonder a’ courtin’ with an in-tire stranger, this ’ere baby’s got the diaree, the team’s clean guv out, the wagon’s broke down, it’s twenty miles to the next water, I don’t care a —— if I never see Californy.”
We returned homeward by the States Road, in which are two of the principal buildings. On the left is the Council Hall of the Seventies, an adobe tenement of the usual barn shape, fifty feet long by thirty internally, used for the various purposes of deliberation, preaching, and dancing; I looked through the windows, and saw that it was hung with red. It is a provisional building, used until a larger can be erected. A little beyond the Seventies’ Hall, and on the other side of the road, was the Social Hall, the usual scene of Mormon festivities; it resembled the former, but it was larger—73 × 33 feet—and better furnished. The gay season had not arrived; I lost, therefore, an opportunity of seeing the beauty and fashion of Great Salt Lake City in ballroom toilette, but I heard enough to convince me that the Saints, though grave and unjovial, are a highly sociable people. THEATRICALS.They delight in sleighing and in private theatricals, and boast of some good amateur actors, among whom Messrs. B. Snow, H. B. Clawson, and W. C. Dunbar are particularly mentioned. Sir E. L. Bulwer will perhaps be pleased to hear that the “Lady of Lyons” excited more furore here than even in Europe. It is intended, as soon as funds can be collected, to build a theatre which will vie with those of the Old Country. Dancing seems to be considered an edifying exercise. The Prophet dances, the Apostles dance, the Bishops dance. A professor of this branch of the fine arts would thrive in Zion, where the most learned of pedagogues would require to eke out a living after the fashion of one Aristocles, surnamed the “broad-shouldered.” The saltation is not in the languid, done-up style that polite Europe affects; as in the days of our grandparents, “positions” are maintained, steps are elaborately executed, and a somewhat severe muscular exercise is the result. I confess to a prejudice against dancing after the certain, which we are told is the uncertain, epoch of life, and have often joined in the merriment excited among French folks by the aspect of some bald-headed and stiff-jointed “Anglais” mingling crabbed age with joyful youth in a public ball. Yet there is high authority for perseverance in the practice: David danced, we are told, with all his might, and Scipio, according to Seneca, was wont thus to exercise his heroic limbs.
Besides the grand fêtes at the Social Hall and other subscription establishments, there are “Ward Parties,” and “Elders’ Weekly Cotillon Parties,” where possibly the seniors dance together, as the Oxford dons did drill—in private. Polkas, as at the court of St. James’s, are disapproved of. It is generally asserted that to the New Faith Terpsichore owes a fresh form of worship, the Mormon cotillon—alias quadrille—in which the cavalier leads out, characteristically, two dames. May I not be allowed to recommend the importation of this decided improvement into Leamington and other watering-places, where the proportion of the sexes at “hops” rarely exceeds one to seven?
The balls at the Social Hall are highly select, and are conducted on an expensive scale; invitations are issued on embossed bordered and gilt-edged white paper, say to 75-80 of the élite, including a few of the chief Gentiles. The ticket is in this form and style:
The $10 tickets will admit only one lady with the gentleman; for all extra $2 each must be paid. In the less splendid fêtes $2 50 would be the total price. Premiums are offered when the time draws nigh, but space is limited, and many a Jacob is shorn of his glory by appearing with only Rachel for a follower, and without his train of Leahs, Zilpahs, and Billahs.
An account of the last ball may be abridged. The hall was tastefully and elegantly decorated; the affecting motto, “Our Mountain Home,” conspicuously placed among hangings and evergreens, was highly effective. At 4 P.M. the Prophet and ex-President entered, and “order was called.” (N.B.—Might not this be tried to a purpose in a London ball-room?) Ascending a kind of platform, with uplifted hands he blessed those present. Farther East I have heard of the reverse being done, especially by the maître du logis. He then descended to the boards and led off the first cotillon. THE SUPPER.At 8 P.M. supper was announced; covers for 250 persons had been laid by Mr. Candland, “mine host” of “The Globe.” On the [following page] will be found the list of the somewhat substantial goodies that formed the carte.
It will be observed that the cuisine in Utah Territory has some novelties, such as bear and beaver. The former meat is a favorite throughout the West, especially when the animal is fresh from feeding; after hibernation it is hard and lean. In the Himalayas many a sportsman, after mastering an artificial aversion to eat bear’s grease, has enjoyed a grill of “cuffy.” The paws, which not a little resemble the human hand, are excellent—experto crede. I can not pronounce ex cathedrâ upon beavers’ tails; there is no reason, however, why they should be inferior to the appendage of a Cape sheep. “Slaw”—according to my informants—is synonymous with sauer-kraut. Mountain, Pioneer, and Snowballs are unknown to me, except by their names, which are certainly patriotic, if not descriptive.
DANCING.After supper dancing was resumed with spirit, and in its intervals popular songs and duets were performed by the best musicians. The “finest party of the season” ended as it began, with prayer and benediction, at 5 A.M.—thirteen successive mortal hours—it shows a solid power of enduring enjoyments! And, probably, the revelers wended their way home chanting some kind of national hymn like this, to the tune of the “Ole Kentucky shore:”