Dancing was a form of amusement thoroughly enjoyed by the early settlers of Marion County. When they got together on nearly every occasion, a fiddler struck a tune and before long the floor of the log cabin creaked and moaned with the scraping of feet. They brought with them the knowledge of only a few simple dances all could participate in, the square set and the three and four handed reels. When the party was in full sway, they pranced through the furious pace of the cut-out jig or the Irish trot, the stamping so loud that it nearly overwhelmed the shrieking of the fiddle. When tired by their exertions, the dancers retreated to the wall; frequently a young dandy, able to outlast the others, would leap into the middle and break into the swift and startling figures of a self-contrived jig. In this way a party of pioneers often stamped and swayed to the tune of a fiddle the whole night through. Frequently the moon had gone down and the stars disappeared ‘ere the crowd, in couples or in groups, groped along the roads and trails to their distant cabins.
Thomas L. Joy, (1850-1920), publisher of the Centralia Sentinel, in the May 19,
1914 issue of that paper, wrote an absorbing account of dancing in early
Centralia. “Grandpa and Grandma did not have the movies; the churches were never
opened except on Sundays and prayer meeting night, the ‘opera house’ was the
town hall where theaters, dances, and speakings, were held, and the theater
companies were few and far between, youngsters were not expected to be so
extravagant as to go more than two nights when there was a week-stand
company?that’s about all the opera there was, excepting the home talent affairs,
mostly on the order of tableaus. School debates and spelling matches were a big
attraction and the annual picnic of the strongest church in the community was an
occasion remembered from one year to another.
“Grandma and Grandpa knew nothing of the tango and like dances, and none of the
dance movements ever created any unfavorable comment, except from the church
members; dancing was denounced as much in those days by the preacher as it is
today. Our young people, who today enjoy tripping the light fantastic, may have
an idea they have it over. Grandpa and Grandma and Father and Mother, too, but
they are mistaken. The old-time dances or balls were big money-makers; every
society had to have one and picked up more money in one night than can be made
inthree now. The round dances were none too popular, for they required real
dancing, but the square dances called everyone to the floor; the rule then was
that every third dance was a square dance. The callers of the earliest, days
were artists and some of them considered poets; the best of them always sang
their calls and helped at keeping time more than did the music, for the old time
fiddler often made as much noise with his foot as with his violin. Below we give
one of the calls as remembered by an. old-timer:”
“Balance one and balance eight, swing ’em on the corner like you swing ‘em on
the gate. Bow to your lady and then promenade. First couple out to the couple on
the right, lady ‘round the lady and the gents solo, and the lady, ‘round the
gent don’t go. Ladies do-se-do, and the gents you know, chicken in the bread pan
pickin’ up dough. Turn ‘em ‘round and ‘round as pretty as you can, and why in
the world don’t you alaman. Right hand to partner and grand right left and a
big, big swing and a little hug too, swing your honey and she’ll swing you.
Promenade eight as soon as you get straight ... you know where, and I don’t
care. Seat your partner in the old arm chair.”
“Fisher’s Hornpipe, Money Musk, Pop Goes the Weasel and ArkansasTraveler were
the tunes that all delighted to, and, when the crowd was all there, it was a
time long to be remembered. On such occasions, Grandpa was as lively as a
cricket, and Grandma was dressed to allow perfect freedom of the limbs and
glided over the rough floors (they knew nothing of waxing them) with grace of a
butterfly, and she was truly as lovely in, appearance. The ladies then dressed
to look their prettiest, and it was a happy carefree crowd that visitors always
saw.”
“The memories of the old timers are not strong enough to give the names, of many
of the callers of earlier days, but J.B. Sanders was considered one of the very
best of the city chaps. A little later, Henry Condit and Godden Weldenn came in.
When it came to fiddlers, not one could beat the father of Alderman Sligar.
There was no orchestra then, and it was only at big balls, that more than two
fiddlers were employed; the piano was unknown, but; the accordion and jews harp
were often in evidence but never a cornet. The guitar and the banjo were
favorites, but the fiddle was never left out when it was possible to get one.
Fiddling and dancing always have been considered side partners by those who
love amusement.”
“Coming down to later date, we find the callers were Lon Hoffman, Tim. Eis, and
John Besant. Lon sang some of his calls when in good trim and being a teacher
(dance masters, they were called), seemed to know just how to set every foot to
moving off right.”