Copyright 1913, by FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY

CHAPTER 25

THE KING CAN ADMIT NO WRONG

FOR a season after the adventure of the run-away officials and the open proclamation of polygamy, there was peace in Brigham's kingdom. The new judges were careful not to collide with his imperial will, and took no notice of the now-avowed practice of plural marriage. On his side, Brigham was at some pains to be cordial -- and no man could be more so when it suited his purpose. He took no pains whatever to conceal his mastership of Utah, and his intent to remain master. In a sermon June 19, 1853, he said: "I am and will be governor, and no power can hinder it, until the Lord Almighty says: 'Brigham, you need not be governor any longer.' "

In a frontier community, however, peace seldom lasts long enough to be monotonous; but the interruption did not come from the defied and outraged federal authority. It came from a quarter where Brigham had a right to look for quiet. He had pursued a more uniformly conciliatory policy toward the Indians than any frontier governor since the days of William Penn; he was never tired of repeating that it is cheaper to feed Indians than to fight them. But nothing could reconcile the Indians to the loss of their scanty oases in the central deserts and the rapid destruction of game at the hands of white hunters; and not even Brigham's despotism could make all of his followers as careful of Indian feelings as himself. In July, 1853, some Mormon settlers interfered to stop an Indian's beating of his squaw; and with an ardent humanity characteristic of a certain class of reformers, they inflicted fatal injuries on the Indian. The brave thus cut off in his sins was a Ute belonging to the band of Chief Walker, who was already on bad terms with the whites, and hostilities followed with deadly promptness. Walker's band took up arms, harried the settlers of southern Utah, killed some twenty persons, drove away cattle, burned houses, destroyed crops, and otherwise enjoyed themselves. In actual fighting, they had all the best of it -- a result not uncommon in border wars, though one carefully concealed by most histories. But the commissariat of the red men was by no means equal to their strategy. By the next spring, most of them were ready to quit. Brigham had kept the olive branch extended all through the trouble, and in May, 1854, secured a meeting with Chief Walker which ended hostilities.

Like Mark Tapley, the ecclesiastical government of the Mormon kingdom came out strong in time of trouble. At a council of bishops in August, 1853, it was decided to enclose Salt Lake City with a wall, like Zion of old. The work was begun but never finished, the generous scale on which the city was planned making a wall impossible to Mormon resources. The church conference in October of the same year took a more important decision, and ordered forth colonizing parties to strengthen the settlements most exposed to Indian attack. The church historian's account of this measure is well worth quoting:

"During the Mormon conference at Salt Lake City, men and families were called to strengthen the settlements north, south and east of Salt Lake Valley. Among those sent on these missions were George A. Smith and Erastus Snow, with fifty families to Iron county; Wilford Woodruff and Ezra T. Benson with fifty families to Tooele Valley, and Lyman Stevens and Reuben W. Allred with fifty families for each of the Sanpete settlements. Lorenzo Snow was directed to select another fifty and go with them to Box Elder county, and Joseph L. Heywood was to lead an equal number to Juab county. Orson Hyde was given a mission to raise a company and found a new settlement on Green River." (Whitney, History of Utah, Vol. I, page 529.)

According to this record, three hundred families left their homes to reinforce distant settlements, not because they wanted to go, but because the church -- that is to say, Brigham Young -- ordered them to go. This despotic control excites no surprise in the breast of the church historian, and stirs his ever dribbly pen to no comment. Like the colonists themselves, the church writer accepts it as part of the natural order of the universe that a good Mormon should go wherever he is sent by his ecclesiastical superiors.

During the war with the Walker Utes, an emeute occurred among the Pauvantes. Captain J. W. Gunnison of the United States Army was in Utah at that time, exploring a route for a transcontinental railroad. On the morning of October 26, 1853, Gunnison and his party were attacked in their camp on the Sevier river, and eight of the twelve, including Gunnison himself, were killed.

This incident belongs in a history of Brigham Young, only because he has been accused of instigating the massacre. The present writers have given proof of their readiness to hold Brigham to account for his sins; but we cannot find a shred of evidence to connect him with the murder of Gunnison. All probabilities point the other way. Brigham had no reason to wish for Gunnison's death, and many reasons to wish him alive. The Saints had come to the conclusion that Zion would grow faster with the help of a railroad; and Gunnison was seeking out a route far a railroad. He had always been on good terms with the Mormons, and Brigham had troubles enough without looking for war with the United States. We have no hesitation in pronouncing Brigham wholly innocent of this crime.

Yet it is easy to see how the charge came to be made. Brigham's anxiety to be on good terms with the Indians was itself a suspicious circumstance to jaundiced eyes. Also, while he collected as much as possible of Gunnison's effects from the Indians, he made no immediate effort to punish the murderers; and some who were finally brought to trial escaped with petty sentences. The explanation is that Brigham did not punish Indian murderers of his own people, when to do so would have precipitated or continued a racial war.

Rightly or wrongly, he took the view that the Indian was a dangerous but easily managed child, a creature whom no one should hold strictly responsible, and from whom no white man should take offence. Dignity, as the term is used by war lords and their admirers, did not interest Brigham when he was engaged with Indian affairs. Perhaps Brigham was moved to this policy by a desire to enlist Indian help in case of a quarrel with the federal government; more likely it sprung from his abhorrence of wasted effort, and his half-contemptuous, half-philanthropic feeling for the Indians themselves. In either case, his handling of the Gunnison affair was a piece of his whole Indian policy.

Early in 1855, Brigham was reappointed territorial governor of Utah; not, however, until President Pierce had tried to secure a Gentile for that position. In December, 1854, the president offered the place to Lieutenant-Colonel Steptoe, then in Salt Lake City on his way to California with a detachment of about two hundred soldiers. Colonel Steptoe declined the offer and signed a petition asking that Brigham be confirmed in his position for another term. For an army officer sojourning a few months in a given spot to take part in territorial politics is almost as uncommon as for a good American to refuse an office. There is a circumstantial story to account for this double strangeness.

According to this story, Colonel Steptoe wished to accept the governorship; but Brigham laid a trap, caught the gallant colonel in a compromising position with a couple of ladies, and soon convinced him that ruling Utah was no job for an amorous soldier. In the nature of things, such a story is incapable of exact proof. But it was believed by most well-informed persons in Utah at that time, and has been handed down since as a characteristic tale of the "Lion of the Lord." Our personal judgment is that, in essentials, the story is true.

All this time the Mormon kingdom was growing; more slowly, indeed, than Brigham and his counsellors had hoped; but more rapidly than they had any right to expect. Part of the increase came from the natural surplus of births over deaths. In a community with an unusual proportion of young and middle-aged persons, all of whom believed that the way to magnify their glory in heaven was to multiply their offspring on earth, this surplus was large. Part consisted of converts from the eastern and southern states. But mostly the new blocks in Zion's wall were brought from Europe, and especially from Great Britain -- the quarry opened by Brigham himself, when he went forth from Nauvoo.

It is the fashion of Gentile writers to sneer at the Mormon converts as belonging to the "lower classes." So they did. So did a certain group of fishermen collected on the shores of Lake Tiberias nineteen centuries ago. The slur has this much of justice, that few persons of education, few persons even who had what may be called the educational habit of mind, were gathered in by the zealous missionaries of the Mormon Zion. But neither did these missionaries appeal to paupers, criminals, or ne'er-do-wells. They wanted sturdy farmers, skilled mechanics, faithful laborers -- and these they secured; and with them, occasionally a family or an individual of high worldly standard. Charles Dickens, who visited a shipload of Mormon emigrants on the eve of their departure, pronounced them the cream of England, of their class. With all due allowance for Dickens's tendency to exaggerate, this is high praise. The success of the British mission may be judged from the fact that from 1849 to 1855, inclusive, 16,537 persons sailed from Liverpool to join the Saints. About one thousand of this number were Scandinavians and Germans who came by way of England.

The method of handling the emigrants was excellent throughout. They were sent in solid cargoes, instead of being shipped indiscriminately with other passengers for the New World. The Mormon agent at Liverpool would wait until assured of a load of Saints and then charter a ship for them. On board, the passengers were under the care -- and likewise under the control -- of two or three church dignitaries who had crossed the ocean before, and who maintained order and stimulated religious enthusiasm. If the passengers came by way of New Orleans, another experienced man attended to getting their river transportation; and usually, teams and supplies were engaged for them at the point where their journey across the plains began.

Nor did this care cease when they reached their destination. Instead of being allowed to huddle in Salt Lake City and shift for themselves as best they could, the newly arrived Saints were taken in hand at once. When word came that a band of immigrants was expected, the Mormon leaders came to Emigration Square, or the Tithing Yard, to do their part in distributing the new arrivals where they would do themselves and the community most good. Work was found for all; and nearly all were helped to become landholders. The precise nature of land allotments varied from time to time, but the insistence on landowning was almost religious in its intensity.

Without doubt, some of the new arrivals were unjustly treated; and in such case, the poorest ones suffered most, as is the unfortunate rule of the ages. Those indebted to the Perpetual Emigration Fund were required to pay back their obligations as soon as possible; either in cash or -- more commonly -- in labor. Wages paid these new emigrants were not always up to the standard of the new land. Polygamous elders, of course, haunted the arriving immigrant trains, looking for likely spouses. But from 1852, onward, there was at least no deceit in the matter, and no one came from Europe to Salt Lake City without having some notion that he or she was turning from a monogamous country to one where plural marriage was customary. Polygamy does not square with our ideals; and peonage, even in its mildest form, is an abhorrent thing; but truth compels the statement that, with one conspicuous exception, Mormon emigrants were watched more carefully en route, and established in their new surroundings at far less cost to themselves than is the case with immigrants arriving at Ellis Island today.

That exception came at the close of the year 1856, a year filled with hardships and calamities. Grasshoppers had inflicted much damage on the crops in 1854, and in 1855, there was almost complete crop failure. To make matters worse, winter set in early and hard that year, with unusually deep snows, burying the pasturage, and starving the cattle. Lulled to security by several good harvests, the Mormons had disregarded Brigham's repeated warnings and had laid up little store against disaster. Now, disaster was at hand, and the absence of railway communication put the whole settlement face to face with famine.

In this emergency, as always in times of bitter trial, the half-military and wholly ecclesiastical organization of Mormonism showed at its best. Some little grain was on hand in the tithing-house, and Brigham and a few of his Apostles had well-filled bins. They shared their store with the community. Such as had money were required to pay for their supplies; but those who had no money did not starve. A letter from Heber Kimball to his son in England gives a picture of the situation:

"I have been under the necessity of rationing my family, and also yours, to two-thirds of a pound of breadstuff per day each; as the last week is up today, we shall commence on half a pound each. Brother Brigham told me today that he had put his family on half a pound each. We do this for the purpose of feeding hundreds that have none.

"My family at this time consists of about one hundred souls, and I suppose I feed about as many as one hundred besides . . . . I had about seven thousand bushels of wheat, and it is now reduced to about one hundred and twenty-five bushels . . . Heber has been to the mill today, and has brought some unbolted flour . . . We have some meat, and perhaps seventy bushels of potatoes, also a very few beets and carrots, so you can judge whether or not we can get through till harvest without digging roots."

With a community in these straits, it was obviously impossible to carry out the church's plan of immigration on the scale and in the manner desired. Neither could Brigham bring himself to stop immigration for a year, and wait until the settlement was in better shape. As a compromise measure, he wrote that he was "thrown back upon my old plan" of providing hand-carts and letting the immigrants walk across the plains from the outfitting point in Iowa to Salt Lake City.

The mere mention of such a march would halt any purely economic emigration, always excepting one that way betided for a gold-field. But it did not stop the gathering of the British Saints to their mountain Zion. On the contrary, it offered a chance to some of the poorer but thrifty converts, who did not wish to obligate themselves to the Perpetual Emigration Fund. Nearly two thousand persons sailed from England, prepared to undertake a tramp of twelve hundred miles, pushing their supplies before them on handcarts.

Iowa City was then the outfitting point for Mormon emigration across the plains; and trouble began at the very start. The hand-carts were not ready. The delay thus caused made little difference to the earlier companies, but it counted terribly to those who came later. When the carts were ready, they were made of green timber, and kept breaking down on the journey.

The first two companies left Iowa City on the 9th and 11th of June, 1856, and arrived at Florence, the old Winter Quarters, July 17. Both at Iowa City and Florence they were warned not to go on; but in spite of these discouragements, they persisted, and reached Salt Lake City September 26. They were met in Emigration canon by a band and a military company, escorting the church dignitaries, and conducted into the city like conquering heroes. On October 5, the third company arrived, which had left Iowa City June 23. These bands had experienced little suffering though much hardship, and the handcart route to Zion seemed a success.

Two other companies, however, were still on the way, and winter was closing in. The foremost of these, commanded by James G. Willie, had left Iowa City July 15 and did not reach Florence until August 11. After a week to refit, Willie started on August 18, in spite of repeated warnings that winter would catch him on the mountain passes. Still later, August 22, the last company, under command of Edward Martin, arrived at Florence, and, after a briefer stay, straggled westward from the 25th to the 27th.

The march of these last companies was a longdrawn tragedy. At first, their troubles were the minor ones of hard work and short rations. Willie's company allowed ten ounces of flour per day per adult, and four ounces to children under eight years, in the march from Iowa City to Florence. In addition there was an irregular distribution of tiny quantities of rice and bacon. When they left Florence, this ration was at first increased to a pound of flour per day per adult, with a corresponding increase for the children; but other troubles were not long in showing themselves. The carts were made with wooden hubs, which the dry dust and sand of the farther prairies cut and roughened. No axle grease had been provided, and part of the precious bacon had to be used to grease the wheels. One wagon to draw heavier supplies was allotted to each hundred persons; but a stampede cost the company many of their oxen, and each cart had to be loaded with a ninety-eight pound sack of flour. When they reached the higher altitudes, winter was close at hand. Wading icy streams on the march by day and sleeping with insufficient shelter at night, the underfed cart pullers began to droop -- and then to die. The Sweetwater took toll of them as in some form it had taken toll of nearly every Mormon party; and at last it came to be thought a strange thing if they left a camping place without stopping to bury one of their number.

There was no lack of devotion and courage. "Many a father," says one of the men who made that march, "pulled his cart with his little children upon it until the day before his death." But neither courage nor religious zeal can long take the place of food.

At last, just when their condition was desperate, came help. Some returning missionaries had passed them on the way, and carried word of their plight to Salt Lake City. Seeing that the situation was serious -- though little guessing how serious -- Brigham sent a party post-haste with provisions and blankets to meet the hand-carts. Encountering a storm, and not realizing the desperate need of the emigrants, the relief party camped to await better weather. There it was found by Captain Willie. His starving company were too weak to pull a cart, and he had left them in camp and come on in search of help. The relief party pushed on at once through the storm. Had it been delayed much longer, few of that hand-cart migration would have been found alive.

Four hundred persons set out from Florence with Captain Willie for this march across the plains. Of these, sixty-seven died en route, and several others died after reaching Salt Lake City. Martin's company, following still later, fared even worse, though reliable figures for losses of this party are lacking. Even after relief reached them, both parties had a long and bitter journey, a journey that the coddled traveller today would shudder to think of. Willie's company reached Salt Lake City November 9, 1856. Martin's people were straggling in through the snow till the middle of December. On the 26th of November, in the camp in Echo Canon, one of the women in Martin's company gave birth to a child. In spite of the frightful hardships of the preceding month, both mother and child survived.

It was characteristic of Brigham to take prompt measures for relieving the distressed immigrants. We regret to add that it was also characteristic of him to take equally prompt measures to relieve himself of blame for the disaster. Perhaps we should say that it was characteristic of his position; the king -- especially if he be a priest-king -- can acknowledge no wrong. Every wise prince provides himself with a stock of scapegoats, and Brigham was no exception. In this case, he picked out Franklin D. Richards, the Apostle in charge of the British mission at the time the hand-cart emigrants set sail, and blamed Richards for letting them start too late.

Brigham's course in this respect was bitterly unjust. He and no other devised the hand-cart project; he and no other must bear the blame of its partial but terribly costly failure. In spite of his experience, he underrated all the difficulties of such an emigration, and neglected to make proper provision even for the difficulties which he recognized. Frederick the Great ran away from Mollwitz; Lincoln put seven useless "heres" into his matchless Gettysburg address; and Brigham would have been better advised to join genius in making blunders rather than to join mediocrity in disavowing them.