This We Thought
Was Pretty Well - A Gun Every Fifteen Seconds - For A Merchantman
With Only Four Guns And A Dozen Or Twenty Men.
After supper, the gig's crew were called, and we rowed ashore,
dressed in our uniform, beached the boat, and went up to the
fandango.
The bride's father's house was the principal one in the
place, with a large court in front, upon which a tent was built,
capable of containing several hundred people. As we drew near,
we heard the accustomed sound of violins and guitars, and saw
a great motion of the people within. Going in, we found nearly
all the people of the town - men, women, and children - collected
and crowded together, leaving barely room for the dancers; for on
these occasions no invitations are given, but every one is expected
to come, though there is always a private entertainment within the
house for particular friends. The old women sat down in rows,
clapping their hands to the music, and applauding the young ones.
The music was lively, and among the tunes, we recognized several
of our popular airs, which we, without doubt, have taken from
the Spanish. In the dancing, I was much disappointed. The women
stood upright, with their hands down by their sides, their eyes
fixed upon the ground before them, and slided about without any
perceptible means of motion; for their feet were invisible, the hem
of their dresses forming a perfect circle about them, reaching to the
ground. They looked as grave as though they were going through some
religious ceremony, their faces as little excited as their limbs;
and on the whole, instead of the spirited, fascinating Spanish
dances which I had expected, I found the Californian fandango,
on the part of the women at least, a lifeless affair.
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