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Culture in Dixie
CULTURE IN DIXIE
A pioneer is a coonskin cap and buckskin fringe, a long rifle, a bowie knife and a Colt forty-five. A pioneer is a log cabin in a wilderness of trees, a prairie schooner, a miner's pick, forty-acres and a mule. This is the story of America. This is her legend, her myth and her glory.
But there were other pioneers, reluctant trail-builders. They loved stone houses, paved streets, neat lawns and flower gardens, neighbors and stores and the law. They were social beings. When the time came to strike out alone, their gentle hearts wept.
All along the Mormon Corridor they sifted out into the sandy valleys of the mountains, Brigham Young men in Brigham Young towns, building the great Mormon dream.
Forsaking all others they cleaved unto this violent land. As Jacob wrestled his angel they wrestled the red-rocky desert, not to prosper but to survive. They knew they had courage; they had tested it. They knew they were strong, and they loved the land that taught them strength. And at last they knew they would win.
Still they were not true pioneers. They did not love to pioneer for pioneering's sake. They conquered the land to keep it. When they knew it would be theirs, their minds turned backwards to those other towns. They yearned for schools, for libraries, for concerts, drama, debating societies, clubs, lyceums, and lectures. More than for food, which was scarce, they grieved for the gentle world of the intellect.
SCHOOLS
Before there were houses in St. George there were schools. The first of these was held in a wagon box while they were still camped on the 'dobe yard, then came the tent, then the willow huts, and finally the adobe ward schoolhouses. Sometimes, as Mardia Cox recorded, while the men still worked on the buildings the classes met on the ditch banks under the cottonwood trees. Martha taught the "little miserables of St. George," and saved "many a spindling form and dirty knuckle from the hard knocks of Brother Macfarlane's mahogany ruler." Her pay was twenty dollars in produce monthly. She had to collect for herself.
Josephine Jarvis Miles, another teacher, wrote "... the parents paid, or were supposed to pay, the tuition. Many couldn't pay anything. Those who could, paid the teacher in produce which they could spare; whether or not it was useful for the teacher mattered little."
When an appropriation was made to the territorial government of fifty cents per pupil per twelve-week term, there were many who felt that the teachers were over-paid. But most of the tuition was paid in kind and that subject to the humiliating chore of collecting it from house to house.
One enterprising young lady set her weekly tuition rate at one quart of milk per student. Each week after the children brought the pails of tuition milk, she set it in a cheese tub, added her rennet and coloring, pressed the curd, then wrapped the round cheese in cloth and carefully buttered it over. At term's end she loaded her cheeses into a wagon and made the long trip to Salt Lake City. The trousseau that had seemed impossible in the fall became a reality on a cheese a week.
Students of all ages jammed into the little one-room buildings; sometimes eighty-five pupils of all grades were crowded into one room and taught by one teacher. In one year two hundred school-age children succumbed to an epidemic of diptheria.
In spite of these crowded conditions, the Presbyterian schools that flourished throughout the territory until 1887 (one thousand Mormon pupils in their schools in that year), were not made very welcome. In the Priesthood minutes of 1885 for the St. George Stake we find a proposal moved and sustained that all Church members who persist in sending their children to Presbyterian schools be disfellowshipped. The Presbyterian schools were tuition free, so their condemnation was bitterly opposed by many families. Finally, President J. D. T. McAllister, of the St. George L.D.S. Stake, asked that special provision be made for the children of people unable to pay for their own. There was a marked drop in attendance at Presbyterian schools following the announcement of this policy.
Scarcely a conference was free from a lengthy oration on the moral, educational, and social advantages of schools. President Edward H. Snow insisted in one sermon that the state owed an education to its citizens, to every child born into the world, and that federal funds should be utilized for this purpose before paying the salaries of federal officials "lashed upon our backs to oppress us in many instances."
The long-recognized need for advanced schooling in the valley was finally met with the organization of an academy modeled after the Brigham Young Academy at Provo. The first classes met in the tabernacle in 1888. Under the direction of Henry Eyring, James G. Bleak, and John M. Macfarlane, Brother Nephi Savage of Payson became the first professor of the new school. He was assisted by C. Workman ($20.00 a month and tuition) and John T. Woodbury ($60.00 a month), and at the suggestion of Karl G. Maeser, president of B. Y. Academy, an unknown matron was appointed to "visit the schools as often as possible... meet with the female students alone and instruct them on such subjects as it would not be proper for male teachers to dwell upon." Tuition per term was fifteen dollars, and students from out of town were boarded for three dollars and fifty cents. When students complained at the "high cost" of board, the stake president in a quarterly conference appealed to the people to support the school and lower their price to three dollars a term!
NEWSPAPERS
As early as 1864, three years after the arrival of the first company, when bare survival sapped the strength of men, women, and children, the craving of these people to remain a part of the cultural world they had known brought to southern Utah its first manuscript newspaper, the "Vepricula" or "Little Bramble." Its editors, Charles L. Walker, Orson Pratt, Jr., George Burgoyne, and Joseph Orton, said in their Prospectus, "These papers are designed to be the emanations of four young men who desire to improve themselves in the art of composition ... by writing upon Literature and Arts and Sciences ... also by traversing the airy realm of Romance and Fiction; for instruction and recreation." An ambitious objective for men whose working days lasted from five in the morning until dark at night.
After a year and a month "Little Bramble" exhausted its writers, but Guglielmo G. R. Sangiovanni started another in 1868 which was introduced by Walker's poem, "The St. George Cactus."
When first the Mormons saw this land And pitched their tents upon the sand, With thorns and rocks sublimely grand,
And here and there a lizzard, No daily mail or morning post Or telegrams to cheer the host No—they to the world and news were lost,
As yet we had no paper. Years elapse—a change takes place, A Paper comes before our face Replete with humor, wit and grace, I mean the little Cactus. And may its matters, prose and rimes Never be behind the "Times" And all subscribers pay their dimes To sustain the little Cactus.
Following these preliminary experiments, newspapers came and went as regularly, almost, as the seasons. The Star, the Union, the Pomologist, Dixie Times, Rio Virgin Times, Washington County News — all furnish us a rich history of the social life of the Cotton Mission.
In one issue of the Washington County News, the editor took exception to an article printed in Kanab's Lone Cedar which cited St, George as an example of what evil would result from the popular amusement of "street walking." Said the editor, the two cases of immorality that had resulted from this amusement had led to strict measures curbing "street walking." The Lone Cedar apologized and said that they knew St. George girls were all that could be desired in purity, sense and charm.
An earlier newsleaf, published only once in six months, came out on July 10 with a little item of news expressing thanks for the lovely mantle of snow that had fallen that morning! Obviously the dailies had their advantages.
YOUNG MEN'S HISTORICAL CLUB
No branch of the cultural arts escaped the peoples' rigorous devotion. In 1873 a Young Men's Historical Club was organized. Under the solemn labels "United We Stand. Divided, We Fall!" and "We study the past, to judge of the future," the young men met, organized, drew up a constitution and bylaws, wrote two poetical mottos and assigned topics for discussion. Although the minutes of the meetings are brief, they show besides the expected religious topics for discussion such subjects as "The Heroes and Patriots of the South," "Matrimony, Marriage and Murder," "Navy Architecture," "History of Shorthand," "Catacombs of Paris," "Chivalry, Where It Originated." The secretary noted that one lecture by Robert McQuarrie on William the Conquerer's Courtship was "very comical," although he "spoke one hour." The club continued until July of 1875.
YOUNG LADIES' MAGAZINES
The young ladies, no less anxious to improve themselves than their gentleman friends, painstakingly copied or wrote little essays which they assembled into elegant papers titled "The Little Girls' Magazine," "Young Ladies' Magazine" and "The Beehive." The most ambitious of these undertakings, "The Beehive," was beautifully illustrated and copied in a meticulous script that noted, among other things, that "a girl with bangs is like a cow with a board over half of its face... . And be she ever so meek and lovely with her hair combed back off her face . . . , when she hacks it off and peeks out of bangs the very devil is in her eyes and actions." The moral of the story, as no proper young miss would fail to observe, was that no man would take to wife a "banghaired" girl.
Again the girls were exhorted not to let themselves become "mere ornaments of society"; for, they were warned, there is nothing so despicable as the young lady who flirts and fidgets and fusses with notiiing in her head from morning until night but fancy clothes and dancing and games of cards. This warning of the evils of a life sedentary must have seemed just a bit superfluous to girls who rose at daylight to milk cows, tend to household chores, and work in the fields until darkness and fatigue forced them into early beds.
Whatever the tenor of the articles, the magazines must have proved popular because they continued over a period of five years.
ART CLASSES
Although none of the drawings is now extant, drawings were laboriously contrived under the direction of a highly-accomplished French artist, Philip Luba. Luba and his students, Seth Pymm, George Brooks, and Charles Walker, met in Brooks's bedroom and lavished many a twilight hour on their artistic creations.
THEATER
By all odds the favorite expression of culture and the only serious rival of the dances and balls was the theater. In its first successful season, the St. George Drama Association, opening with the production "The Eaton Boy," "greatly shocked" theater-goers of 1862 by presenting in the title role a young lady wearing trousers! In the fall of 1863 the St. George Hall, a gray stone building with a red standstone foundation, was completed and the St. George Dramatic Association was founded. Their very sizeable repertory included "The British Slave," "The Golden Farmer," "The Charcoal Burner," "Pittycody," and "Toodles."
President Brigham Young, attending the performance of "The Golden Farmer," stood up after the final curtain, and calling for Joseph Orton, publicly congratulated his excellent portrayal.
Miles P. Romney, Joseph Orton, C. L. Walker, A. W. Ivins, Caddie Ivins, Josephine and Hannah N. and Artemisia Snow, Isabel and Mary Romney performed in literally dozens of plays through these early seasons.
By 1878 President J. D. T. McAllister was asking the high council "if the Council thought that one night per week should be allotted for theatrical performances for the amusement of the people." Councilman Smith (no initials) "deemed it right that these things be countenanced but should be well guarded from evil . . . under the restrictions of the Priesthood." Councilman Angus thought "less evil was likely to exist in theatricals than dancing." Weekly theatricals under the supervision of Bishop Miles P. Romney were sustained by the council.
However popular, the drama occasioned the grave concern of the leading brethren. Because of its propensity to produce light-minded attitudes and vanity in the players and to encourage a life of amusement seeking in its viewers, the drama was the repeated subject of council meeting and sermon. In an opening address to the first dramatic club, Apostle Erastus Snow justified the entertainment by explaining that drama had been introduced into the Church by Joseph Smith, then he exhorted the Priesthood to "Control these amusements . . . watch over the flock to keep out the wolves." He further admonished the players to be "a pattern of conduct to the saints."
The first St. George drama critic on record is Joseph E. Johnson in his newspaper, the Dixie Times. From him we learn that "Frank Wooley fulfilled the expectations of his friends, though he failed to keep up the nasal articulation and assumed the vernacular of the overdrawn Yankee."
Again Johnson complained, "There was a crowded house, and as we were able to procure only low-priced tickets, we were poorly provided to enjoy the playing. ... If the Manager's style of courtesy and liberality towards the fraternity editorial had been equal in comparison to the playing, we would have said good, for non-professionals."
Of the Dixie Minstrels Johnson advised "those who have not seen the bill, we will say it is a good one, and not too long, so that the people will not be kept out of bed 'til too late an hour."
Following an advertisement of "All That Glitters Is Not Gold" is the revealing hint, BABES IN ARMS NOT ADMITTED. Customarily, of course, babies were bundled up and carried along not only to plays but to dances as well. At the earlier dances benches were set up along the walls and the babies lay there to sleep or squall while their mothers took a turn around the floor.
Admittance to these early plays was seventy-five cents — a seemingly high price for desert country where hard money was as scarce as rain. But an eloquent reminder of the precious quality of that commodity comes to us from the record of receipts of the St. George Dramatic Association. The total receipts of one play were listed as $51.45. Only one dollar and seventy cents of that amount was cash. Again out of a total of $41.75, only seventy-five cents was cash. A third receipt shows $41.00 received with fifty cents cash. The remainder of these receipts was paid in molasses, vegetables, fruit, grain flour, Tithing Office (T.O.) script, or labor. Patrons who brought a commodity in excess, such as a very large squash, would receive some other commodity in exchange, perhaps a smaller squash or a bunch of carrots.
The drama continued to rival dancing as the most popular entertainment, but it was supplemented with lectures, lyceums, and an array of adult educational clubs.
LECTURES AND LYCEUMS
An entry from an early diary of John Pulsipher reveals the really urgent desire of these people to gain a cultural education.
The young men and boys of our ward have a lyceum which not only learns us to speak in public but have subjects for discussion that are instructive.
Very seldom I miss a meeting. Even when I lived out of town I attended pretty regular and went home seven miles at midnight. ... I was bashful and awkward and used to dread for my turn to come. It seemed almost impossible for me to say anything at all. ... I thought if I could do nothing more I could be present and help make up numbers and sustain those that could speak.
A seven-mile walk to and from an amateur lecture would demand something like fanatical determination to learn.
But of one of these lecturers C. L. Walker wrote in his journal, "Didn't like the way Brother [Dodge] gassed about himself. Did not feel edified." Apparently lecturers have not changed a great deal through the years.
Traveling companies that visited St. George each spring or fall received tremendous support in spite of pleas from bishops, stake presidents and high council to "patronize the home productions and not throw away hard-earned dollars on transient persons" who had no thought of building up the country but "were interested only in their own pocket books."
CLUBS
Building up the country was a problem of ever-increasing dimension as the young people of prominent families grew up, were educated in the schools of the north, then could find no employment in St. George to utilize their new talents. The Commercial Club had as its goal "the energetic development of resources in St. George to keep the trained, educated youth at home." This was probably one of the first chamber of commerce organizations in the state.
Clubs were organized also for the training of nurses. One high councilman noted in urging the establishment of such a club that "sick people are often injured by ignorant nursing" and that young ladies should learn the proper care of the sick as well as the laying out of the dead.
These early clubs are ample testimony of the spirit of participation existing among the colonizers. While many of the same names appeared again and again, there were always new names appearing, and hardly any name failed to appear somewhere on the roll or in the minutes of a club, improvement society, church leadership group, or entertainment committee. None was willing to be always an onlooker. Every man seemed anxious to develop his own talent. The mottos and credos of the organizations include along with the purpose of entertainment the desire for self-improvement, instruction, and development of talent.
LIBRARY
The town as a unit was actively engaged in the business of education. The first free public library in the state was established in St. George by community effort. Under the auspices of the Stake Sunday School, programs were presented that charged for admittance one quart of molasses. Each program night, out in front of the Social Hall, an open barrel was set up to receive the tickets. When a barrel was filled with molasses, it was capped and rolled aside. Several fifty gallon barrels were collected, freighted to Salt Lake City and exchanged for books, which were placed at public demand in Joseph E. Johnson's news shop.
DANCING
Culture does not always involve book learning. And the people of the Dixie Mission, like Mormons everywhere, loved to dance. They danced on the wire grass at the first camp east of St. George, they built a bowery and danced on hard, sprinkled earth, then they danced in the first homes and finally in the Old Social Hall, the New Social Hall, The Courthouse, and in the basement of the Tabernacle. Accompanied by one of the eight violinists available or an accordianist and guided by the dancing-master, they whirled through quadrilles, reels, lancers, schottisches, polkas, varsoviennes and in later years the "wicked" waltz.
Dancing was so popular that it became the subject of discussion in many a high council meeting of the era. The waltz was early condemned for allowing the boys to "hug the girls too tight." Although Erastus Snow sagely advised that "any severe rules and regulations adopted by the Priesthood would probably not have the desired effect . . ." and that "there would be no harm in a small amount of waltzing in a decorous manner," the brethren tried set after set of rules. All public dances were strictly supervised, and were opened and closed with prayer.
The minutes of one high council meeting called four young men to account for "not arising when the people were called upon to do so" and making "bleating noises" at the elder when he reprimanded them. The boys were also accused of "making merry" and of dancing out of turn. Their failure to apologize would have resulted in the boys being "cut off from the Church."
People flocked in such large numbers to the dances that dancers had to be given numbers and called in turn. This probably accounted for the constant complaints of "boisterous talking, stamping and unseemly noises" prevailing at dances. Another bitterly lamented factor in all these dances was the free flow of Dixie wine. The managers of the dances were accused of being too "namby pamby, milk and water" to throw a drunk man out and keep him out. Councilman Cannon related that a young man visiting them objected to one "pretty rough dance. A woman came in and knocked a man down and dragged him out."
In addition to public dances there were private supper dances and balls to which guests were bid by printed invitation. Full orchestras of horns, violins, accordions, and piano were hired for these occasions, and a favorite refreshment was oyster stew, although it was a rare bowl that ever saw an oyster.
As for every other social function, tickets were paid in kind. The returns from a private Charity Leap Year Ball consisted of fifteen yards of calico and bleached muslin, fifty-six pounds of flour, and five gallons plus one quart of molasses.
The musicians usually took their pay from whatever produce was taken in at the door. One fiddler recorded having received "a few discarded peaches" for two days work at the Washington County Fair.
So the life marked for privation became rich and full; the primitive and crude were overlooked and forgotten; today this era is recalled as the Golden Age, the Great Day of Culture when St. George had an "opera" house, a thriving theater season, and countless improvement societies, clubs, lectures and lyceums. It was a time of hard work. It was a time of achievement.
Visible throughout the valley, the white DIXIE placed on the vermilion cliff by the first graduating class of Dixie College has become symbolic of the entire area.
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