BRIGHAM YOUNG AND HIS MORMON EMPIREBy Frank J. Cannon and George L. Knapp Copyright 1913, by FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY CHAPTER 21 THE CHURCH DUKES WHILE Brigham was thus mindful of the prosperity and happiness of his people, it must not be imagined that he forgot the word of the Lord which came to him through the mouth of Joseph on his return from the British mission in 1842. In that revelation, Brigham was expressly commanded to stay at home and care for his family. Divers misfortunes and upheavals had compelled him to give a liberal construction to that part of the mandate dealing with his stay at home; but the care of his multifarious family never lacked Brigham's earnest attention. Even while his people were experimenting with the novel agriculture, Brigham was "selecting his inheritance" with as keen an eye to the main chance as any worldly-minded Gentile ever displayed. Land, water, and timber were the only visible values in Utah at that time. Brigham had forbidden the speculative holding of land in his first sermon in the valley. But in the same sermon he had claimed ownership of the entire region for the Lord and His Saints. As administrator for the Lord's part of the estate, perhaps it was natural for Brigham to take his pay in kind; and certainly at his death, some of the best land in the valley passed to his heirs by will. Water and timber could be had by securing control of the canons in the nearby mountain ranges. At the October conference of 1852 -- a conference of the church, please note, not a meeting of the law making body -- Brigham proposed to turn these canon over to individuals who should build roads into them and collect toll. In effect, this gave the city's sole supply of wood and the settlement's chief supply of irrigating water into private hands, with no restrictions as to the duration of this control, or the charge that might be exacted. The meekest Gentile community would hesitate before putting itself so unreservedly into the grip of a corporation. But the Mormon empire gloried in a meekness -- toward it spiritual lords -- compared to which the most docile gathering of American Gentiles is stiff rebellious. Young's proposition was carried by unanimous vote; and when the canons were assigned to favored individuals, it was found that he had one of the best.* This is a fair illustration of Brigham's keen moneymaking instinct at work. As the shepherd of his people, he deemed it his duty to protect them from wolves -- and his right to gather their fleeces. To the best of his knowledge and ability, he did both. It would be unfair to charge him with unusual greed. The private fortune which he amassed -- almost wholly from his position as head of the church -- is not so large as many a captain of industry has taken from a smaller community for less valuable services. It was not so large a fortune as some "brave and self-sacrificing missionaries" of other churches -- and their sons -- have gathered in the Hawaiian Islands. But that the prophet, seer, and revelator of God on earth, the one direct link between the world and the heavens, should concern himself with money-making at all is a shock to the religious sense of the devout, and to the sense of fair play by which, in the absence of more authentic guides, the heretic must set his course. As head of the church, Brigham made merchandise of the gospel; as ruler of his people, he gave no account of the moneys placed in his hands for community use. At no other point in his varied career does Brigham so far fall short of the required stature of greatness as in this, his money-changing in the temple where he ruled as high priest. Considered as a bit of practical statecraft, however, Brigham's care to put money into his purse is easily understood. He meant to rule his people as long as he lived, and that his sons, if possible, should rule after him; and he had no notion of being a king in rags. Neither did he imagine that he could be king without a supporting aristocracy. His first act, after his formal elevation to headship of the church, was to surround himself with relatives and friends as bulwarks against possible disaffection. His first care on being settled in Utah was to tie the chief men of the church to himself with bands of self-interest; to create a group of ducal families whose dignity and riches should be derived from the favour of himself as king. At the head of this ducal aristocracy was Heber C. Kimball. Aside from the diffuseness of his marital relations and the singular concentration of his religious and political allegiance, Kimball was a typical New England Yankee; austere of look, deliberate of voice, piercing of eye. He was highly esteemed as a prophet, not in the sense of having an especial license to speak the Lord's will to His people, for that was Brigham's monopoly; but in the sense of being a foreteller of events. He promised Parley P. Pratt an heir by his first wife, who was already a consumptive of some years' standing, at a time when the devout couple had quite given up hope. The prophecy was fulfilled, though the mother died almost as soon as the child was born. During the pinching poverty of early days, before the crop of 1849 had banished for a season the threat of famine, Kimball prophesied that within three years, "state's goods" would be sold in Salt Lake valley cheaper than in the cities of the east. This prediction was fulfilled in the most unexpected way by the harvest from the overland gold-seekers, as recounted in a previous chapter. Heber's own estimate of the accuracy of his prophecies may be judged from his statement that if he hit the truth once in ten times, he was still doing better than most soothsayers. In that comment, his dry, Yankee sense shone through the trappings of zealotry and pretence. But the distinguishing characteristic of Heber Kimball was not his gift of prophecy. It was rather his incredible coarseness of speech; a coarseness which would have banished him from any society, save one which obeyed him as prince or revered him as prophet. He did not stop with shocking conventional modesty; he must needs use speech which roused a physiological disgust in his hearers. He discussed the most intimate personal matters in the most public way. In all things a worshipper rather than a mere admirer of Brigham, Heber seems to have tried to imitate the scolding sermons of his idol. But while Brigham, like Shakespeare, dealt in filth only as he found it mixed with life; Heber, like Swift, reveled in filth for filth's sake. The comparison does both saints too much literary honor; but it serves to mark a distinction which cannot be explained in more specific fashion. With Heber, as with Brigham, a fondness for incendiary speech was joined to a reluctance for violent action. During the "reformation" a few years later, Heber's sermons, like those of his chief, were a direct incitement to riot and murder; but Kimball seems to have borne no direct part in the deeds which his unbridled tirades helped to precipitate. He preached the doctrine of blood atonement; but he seems never to have taken this method of atoning for any one's sins. His coarseness and lack of reticence made him useful to Brigham. He said the things which Brigham wanted said, and did not care to utter himself. In public and private discourse for year on year, Heber C. Kimball bore witness to his faith that -- to all intents and purposes -- Brigham was God incarnate on earth. And with all his coarseness, with all his almost sickening adulation of his chief, Heber Kimball was a man cast in a good-sized mould. He had twenty or more wives and a swarm of children, an seems to have been loved by all of them. He was always ready to share his last sack of flour in time of distress -- or to exact the last sack in time of plenty from a recalcitrant tithe-payer. On the left of Brigham, as Kimball stood on the right, was William Richards, third member of the First Presidency. A large, stout man, with kindly, Franklinesque face, and gentle manner, Richards brought to the councils of the church an element of refinement sorely needed, and oft-times sadly insufficient. He was a physician and, for the times, a good one; and through his familiarity with Joseph the prophet, Willard Richards wrote some of his medical ideas into holy writ by inspiring Joseph to dictate the "Word of Wisdom." Richards was entirely devoted to his chief and cousin, Brigham; but the services he was asked to perform were gentler in character than those demanded of some others. It was his part to edit the Deseret News, then as now the official organ of the Mormon empire -- and bring the power of the press to Brigham's support; to serve as postmaster, and make the United States mails subject to Brigham's orders; to "comb the whiskers" of Brigham's rough language, and put it into shape for more fastidious company. Of a directly opposite character was Jedediah M. Grant, first mayor of Salt Lake City, founder, or at least chief preacher, of the "reformation" whose blood-stained annals we are approaching; and proponent of the doctrine of "blood atonement," which has done more than any other thing save polygamy to bring Mormonism into disrepute. Grant became counsellor to Brigham upon the death of Willard Richards. Grant was a tall, thin, cadaverous-looking man, whose utterly undisciplined nature was inspired by an utterly unquestioning zeal. He was an ignorant Cotton Mather, a polygamous du Chayla. His church biographer paints him as striding over the fields of the South, preaching with flaming appeal and threat his favourite gospel. And the picture is symbolic. He seemed to delight in the ferocities of his religion; to welcome opposition that he might feed the fires of his fanaticism. He was incapable of doubt and insensible to fear. That he was sincere is beyond question. He has been called the "sledge-hammer of Brigham," but in truth he was the one man in the valley whom Brigham could not manage. He was described by a contemporary as "the most essential blackguard in the pulpit," but blackguardism -- even if this charge were true -- is a mild offence compared to his thirsty teaching of blood atonement. George A. Smith, a cousin of the murdered prophet, owed his elevation to the fact that Brigham needed some members of the Smith family in his train. As an Apostle, George A. Smith made an imposing figure; and was content with that statuesque part. He was perhaps the ablest member of his family, intellectually speaking, though that is not extravagant praise. At one time, when Brigham wished a legal dummy, George A. Smith was made trustee in trust for the church. He assumed the dignities of the office -- and then Brigham, George, and the Mormon people promptly forgot the whole matter; and church business was transacted with Brigham once more. John Taylor, who succeeded Brigham as president of the church; was an Englishman of good stock, a well-educated, dignified man. Normally, he was a straightforward and truthful man also, though apt to wax a bit too enthusiastic in picturing the glories of Zion. . Yet his name is linked with a piece of the most unblushing falsehood that even ecclesiastical history can show. In the summer of 1850, at Boulogne-sur-mer, John Taylor denied that his church taught or practiced polygamy. He protested that the charge of polygamy was too outrageous for belief, and in every way strove to give the impression that he and his fellow Saints regarded such a doctrine with horror and aversion. At that very moment, John Taylor was the husband of at least four wives. He must have known that his falsehood for his church would find him out; yet he denied the truth, because he was ordered to deny it. He would have sworn that Utah was a level plain had he been ordered to do so. The blighting nature of theocratic absolutism is not often better illustrated than in the case of John Taylor, a decent gentleman by instinct, a brave, chivalrous gentleman by nature, who never discredited himself in any act or word of his own volition and yet deemed it an honor to discredit himself by prophetic command. Taylor's native integrity was demonstrated later when he himself succeeded Brigham. One of his first acts was to separate church properties from personal holdings; to institute strict accountings; to limit the access of priests to community funds. But after all, he merely changed temporarily the method of the despotism -- not the despotism itself. It is needless to give extended portraits of other members of the church aristocracy which Brigham was gathering around him. One man, however, must be noticed; not because he came within the charmed circle, but because he did not. This man was Orson Pratt. A deep student, a devout Mormon, an able, handsome, dignified man, Orson Pratt suffered all the later years of his life from one of Brigham's few personal prejudices. The cause of that prejudice must remain uncertain; but the present writers believe it due primarily to Brigham's jealousy of Pratt's attainments. Brigham was fond of sneering at learning, but he was too much of a New Englander not to covet it. His loudly voiced contempt concealed a great wistfulness. He never hesitated to use Pratt. It was Orson Pratt who was assigned to conduct the argument with Newman as to whether the Bible sanctions polygamy. It was Orson Pratt who invented the weird "Deseret alphabet" which was to mark off the printing-presses of the Lord's chosen from those given over to the ungodliness of Gentiles. But Orson Pratt was left poor when far less able men were assisted to wealth, and was pushed down in the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles to keep him from succeeding to the presidency on Brigham's death. All these church dukes were polygamous. Willard Richards was deemed rather scantily married, and he had about eleven wives. Heber Kimball was reputed to have more than twenty. All were reputed to be "good family men," nor was this quality due solely to their large experience in that line. And all owed their prominence in the church, their success in finance, and their esteem by the community to the favor of Brigham Young. Not even Jedediah Grant need be excepted from this last classification. Grant's ferocious zeal and utter fearlessness would have made him a marked man in any community; but there never was a moment when Brigham could not have crushed him with a word. Brigham's embarrassment in this case was that he did not want to crush Grant, only to manage him; and with the best will in the world to be managed by the chief whom he revered as the visible regent of God, Jedediah Grant was about as bridlewise as the classic pony of Mazeppa. In these men, Brigham had what polite Europe calls an aristocracy, and what blunt America dubs a political machine. In the tithing system he had a financial power which carried the church through troubles that would have wrecked any organization depending on voluntary contributions. The tithing law, as noted before, was established at Far West, Missouri, on July 8, 1838. We have given reasons for believing Brigham Young the author of this first practical financial plan in the annals of the church. By the terms of this rule, every convert, on coming into the fold of the Saints, had to give ten per cent of his property to the church. When he had tithed his principal once, he was not required to do so again; but ten per cent of his income each year belonged to the church. In early days, tithes were paid in kind. The church always has struggled to collect tithes on gross income as far as possible, and tithe-payers have sought to restrict the payment to net returns. Mormons in business pay on their net profits -- any other method would ruin them. Mormons working on salary pay ten per cent of their entire income to the church; and if they are working for a church institution, the tithe is deducted from their paycheck. Farmers struggle along in hit-or-miss fashion; some probably cheating the church and others certainly cheating their families. The duty of tithe-paying still forms one of the chief staples of Mormon pulpit eloquence; for it is as true of Latter Day Saints as of other folk that where the treasure is there also will be the devoted attention of the riling powers. At no time in Mormon history have the heads of the church given any regular public accounting of the moneys thus received. For more than a generation, they have given no public accounting at all. Whoever is church emperor for the time being has absolute and irresponsible control of this vast supply of liquid wealth, now amounting to not less than $4,000,000 per year -- with yet other millions of accumulations. He may use it for the church, or in schemes which promote his personal profit and that of his favorites; he may spend it wisely or fritter it away on some adult substitute for toy balloons. The devout toilers whose work and faith have produced this wealth have nothing to say about the matter. During the reign of Brigham, while tithes were unquestionably used to support church officials and even on occasion to enable them to build personal fortunes, the general management of this fund was good. It supplied a part of the capital for new community industries. It financed the church in its long legal battle with the United States government. It gave a fresh start in life to the poor who were young enough to make such a start; and it provided support for the poor whose working days were over. The aged and devout Mormon could accept help from the tithing fund with no loss of self-respect. All through his working life, he had paid money into that fund; and he was only getting back what he had given. Much can be said against the management of tithing, even in Brigham's day; but it showed nothing like the disgrace now seen in the Mormon empire, when men anal women who have paid tithes all through their producing lives are sent to the poorhouse in their old age; and when people in receipt of public outdoor relief pay back to the church ten per cent of the pitiful dole they receive from the state. It was during these early years in Utah that the ecclesiastical or rather political organization of the Mormon church received its present shape and efficiency. Joseph Smith had dreamed into existence almost countless priestly offices. Brigham Young, even while Smith was yet alive, had gradually brought coherence and discipline into this much-betitled church militia. But the Great Trek with its pressing need of martial discipline, and the new settlement with its isolation, were needed to complete the structure of religious imperialism. As it stands today -- as it has stood since Brigham Young was firmly settled in his place -- there are twenty-six persons in the Mormon hierarchy. The presence of twenty-five of them is an act of grace on the part of the one. At the head of the hierarchy stood the president of the church and regent of the Most High God. He alone was authorized to speak the word of the Lord to the children of men. He alone was authorized to receive revelations. As stated before, Brigham put forth but one revelation during his entire term of office -- and that while he was in name no more than chief of the Twelve Apostles. But in the absence of formal revelation, wisdom was supposed to be his by direct inspiration of God, and few indeed were the Mormons in good standing who had any doubt that to resist Brigham was to resist the Lord. Associated with Brigham in his office were his two counsellors; at first, Heber Kimball and Willard Richards. One was his relative and the other was his worshipper; and both owed their elevation to the will of Brigham alone. Next below the First Presidency came the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, for three years after Smith's death the supreme governing body -- in theory -- of the church. It had been the ladder by which Brigham had climbed to power, and now, emulating many a royal example, he pushed it down as far as he dared. He reorganized this Quorum in such wise as to deprive Orson Pratt of any chance to succeed to the presidency, and put John Taylor in his place. All vacancies in the Quorum during Brigham's life were filled by him -- and all vacancies in the Quorum ever since have been filled by the reigning sultan of the church. To refuse to "sustain" the president's choice would be a direct rebellion against God Himself. At one side in this hierarchy stands the patriarch. This is an office hereditary in the family from which Joseph Smith sprang, and seems to have been created to provide a title for one of that race. The patriarch has no real power. He has visions of a somewhat lower order than the authorized revelations which come to the president. He pronounces blessings -- for a consideration; and in general deports himself as ecclesiastical supernumeraries have done since the days of Amen Ra. Next below the Quorum of the Twelve in direct line of power are the seven presidents of seventies. These seven in a way are subordinate apostles, and are supposed to have a particular interest in missionary work. Finally -- again in a side line -- are the presiding bishop and his counsellors, who have immediate charge of church properties. The importance of this last office dates from Brigham's declining years, and it has increased in partial ratio with the vast increase of wealth since his death. Following the example set by Brigham, the chief of the Twelve Apostles is heir-apparent to the presidency of the church. Below this hierarchy there was organized -- and there still subsists -- a myriad and close-knit body of local church rulers. There were presidents of "stakes of Zion." There were bishops over wards -- a ward being a smaller division than a stake. There were elders, teachers, priests. From highest to lowest, every capable man in Mormon ranks was given something to do for the church -- and kept busy doing it. All this large and intricate organization was in Brigham's hands. He filled vacancies in the Quorum. He named the presidents of seventies. He created bishops. He promoted, deposed, shifted, supported, or left struggling whomsoever he would -- and in this irresponsible despotism he has been followed unto this day. Never since the Mormon church was founded has the congregation of the people nominated a ruler of the church, nor even a member of the hierarchy. The congregation is always asked to "sustain" -- and always does so. And the manner of that "sustaining" is a pitiful absurdity. At the general conference of the church, one of the hierarchy announces: "It is moved and seconded that we sustain [giving the name] as prophet, seer, and revelator to all the world." And so on, through the list. "All who are in favor of this motion signify it by raising the right hand." A wave of hands comes from the vast assemblage. But no "motion" has been made. Neither nomination nor opposition is permitted. The decree of God has been uttered. The people are allowed to ratify but not to refuse God's irrevocable choice. On one occasion when Brigham was installing his favorite and erratic son, John W., as assistant prophet, seer, and revelator, a murmur of shocked surprise went through the congregation; but every right hand was raised. Recently, when Joseph F. Smith, present ruler, was crowding the hierarchy with his sons -- in order to give each of his many wives a representation -- one of the congregation muttered, "Too much Smith!" Near neighbors in the tabernacle tittered their approval. And then mutterers and titterers raised their right hands to "sustain." Symonds remarks that the Jesuits seem to have discovered the precise point to which intellectual culture can be carried without intellectual emancipation. One might say with yet more truth that the Mormon church had learned the precise point to which the appearance of popular government can be carried without the reality.
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