Copyright 1913, by FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY

CHAPTER 31

SPOILING THE GENTILES

RELIEVED of the danger of a new and less pliable governor by Colonel Kane's final bit of diplomacy, Brigham and his people could now rest in peace and enjoy the troubles of the nation which had "persecuted" the Saints. Their enjoyment was the keener because these troubles came as the fulfilment of prophecy. Joseph Smith had foretold in 1832 that civil war would come to the American republic, beginning with the revolt of South Carolina. If Joseph had been wise enough to hang up the receiver at this point, his fame would be more lasting among those contumacious Gentiles who insist on looking into the machinery of miracles. But he must needs go on to predict an uprising of negro slaves, and a devastating war with Great Britain; and lack of accuracy in these small matters has distracted attention from the prophecy which came true.

Indeed, it required no seer to foretell something of the storm about to break on the too-confident nation. President Buchanan had shown his fear of such a misfortune and recognized the best way to avert it, when he spoke in his message to Congress of the necessity of treating the Utah uprising in such a way that this first rebellion should likewise be the last. Instead of carrying out his own sound recommendation, the President had so behaved as to encourage treason and stimulate secession.

Most of the troops at Camp Floyd were sent to New Mexico early in 1860. In March of the same year, General Johnston returned to the "States" by way of California, leaving Colonel Philip St. George Cooke in command. That fall brought the triumph of the Republican party, with its doctrine that polygamy and slavery were twin relics of barbarism; the election of Abraham Lincoln, and the certainty of civil war. In May, 1861, Governor Cumming went back to his beloved Georgia, leaving the territory so quietly that few knew of his departure till they saw it mentioned in the local paper. Then came orders from Washington for Colonel Cooke to abandon the post, sell all stores which could not with profit be carried back across the plains, and bring the soldiers east to fight for the very life of the nation.

Up to this time, the Saints had received only a sentimental satisfaction from the troubles of the ungodly. Now, they were to reap a pecuniary reward as well. Thanks to the activity of contractors and the complaisance -- to use no harsher word -- of former Secretary of War Floyd, there were some $4,000,000 worth of government property at Camp Floyd, aside from weapons, ammunition, and rations needed on the march. These were now thrown on the market at forced sale -- and there were none but Mormons to buy. The result may be guessed. Four million dollars' worth of goods changed hands for not more than $100,000. Flour for which the government had paid $28.40 per sack was bought for 52 cents per sack; though the standard tithing price at that time was $6. Surplus uniforms and clothing were sold for about the price of the wool required to make the cloth. Army bacon was sold at a cent a pound. Tools and materials of all sorts were sacrificed at similar rates. It was the harvest of the gold rush over again -- with the added pleasure of spoiling the Egyptians.

Brigham was the chief buyer on this occasion. He invested nearly $50,000 -- practically as much as all other buyers put together -- and his bargains were the choicest of the lot. The thrifty Yankee soul of him must have rejoiced especially over the repurchase of the flour. He had taken it from the tithing-house at $6, got his share of the profits of selling it to the government for $28.40, and now bought it back again for fifty-two cents, to sell once more to the faithful for $6.

To this day, the Civil war is regarded by the Mormons as an incident of that miracle by which God replenished the storehouses of the Prophet and the Saints at the expense of an unrighteous nation. They were collecting a part of the debt which was due to them for the pillaging to which they had been subjected in Missouri and Illinois.

The Mormon attitude was one of frank rejoicing at the troubles of the Federal government. Brigham's feelings were more nearly loyal than any of his followers who went on record at this time -- and surely Brigham's discourses are the reverse of patriotic in tone. "I feel disgraced at having been born under such a government!" he raged at the church conference on April 6, 1861. "I do not think there is a more corrupt government on the face of the earth," chimed in Daniel H. Wells, chief of the nauvoo Legion. Other speakers took a similar tone. It was left to Apostle George A. Smith, however, to vindicate the supremacy of his family in imaginative discourse. At this same conference, George A. solemnly informed the assembled Saints that unless they South kept Lincoln busy, he would be forced by the "priestly influences" around him to "put to death every man who believes in the divine mission of Joseph Smith."

This attitude was modified at times, especially if Brigham happened to want something from the government; but it never was permanently changed during the early half of the war. In October, 1861, when the telegraph line was completed into Salt Lake City, Brigham sent a telegram in which were the words: "Utah has not seceded, but is firm for the constitution and the laws of our once happy country." Mormon writers speak of this formal telegram as evidence of exalted patriotism. Perhaps it is such -- by comparison with the sentiments habitually nourished and expressed by the Mormon hierarchy -- but it would not take high rank in a broader collection of patriotic literature.

Brigham's theory of the constitution was that this instrument gave the central government supreme authority to protect the Mormons, and no authority to govern them; and it required no great accession of loyalty to commend an instrument interpreted in this wise. In this as in other matters, actions speak more decisively than words. The Mormon kingdom probably had the best organized militia in the United States; but not a company, not a squad, not a man enrolled in the Nauvoo Legion crossed the plains to fight for the Union and the flag. Brigham on more than one occasion declared that he would see the federal government in hell before he would allow a single Saint to enlist in its defence, and so far as he was brought to the test, he kept his word.

Here, as in the story of the of the Mormon battalion, the student is struck with the singular obtuseness of Mormon writers and hierarchs on this important matter. They literally do not know what patriotism is. They have given to their church kingdom all the loyalty which the Gentile citizen bestows on country and state. A few men of high intellectual and emotional character among them have been able to rise above ecclesiastical prejudice, and really love their country. A few who have been much in contact with the outside world have absorbed the patriotic sentiment of their neighbors. Aside from these chance exceptions, patriotism has scarcely had an existence among the rulers of the Mormon kingdom.

The season of 1861 was well advanced before President Lincoln appointed new federal officers in Utah. Then he sent John W. Dawson as governor, and John F. Kinney as chief justice, besides other executive and judicial officers. Both Kinney and Dawson were thoroughly bad appointments; but the blame for them rests on the congressmen who did not scruple to recommend them, rather than on the President who was carrying the salvation of a nation on his shoulders. While nearly equal in unworthiness, the two men were widely separated in the fate which overtook them. Kinney pandered to the Mormon empire at every turn, and was removed at last only when the scandal of his subserviency became too great to endure. Governor Dawson antagonized the hierarchy -- and provoked private vengeance by his evil conduct.

In spite of their virulent comment on the American government, Brigham and his aids were anxious as ever to secure admission of Utah as a state. Governor Dawson reached Salt Lake City early in December. The legislature passed a bill calling adoption of a constitution and the election of state officers -- and representatives at Washington. Dawson vetoed this bill, on the ground that it gave neither time nor heed to learn whether Congress would grant the statehood desired. Almost immediately, Dawson found himself in trouble. He made improper advances to a woman employed in his office, she told of his offending, and the governor received word that the sooner he got out of the territory the better. He left on the evening of December 31, 1861, taking along a guard specially hired to protect him till beyond the borders of the kingdom. In spite of this guard -- or perhaps by their collusion -- Dawson was set upon by a gang of bullies, beaten, kicked, and according to one account, emasculated.

This was another case in which the rude interpreters of the law of blood atonement went farther than the emperor desired; and on this occasion, Brigham thought best to punish such inopportune exhibition of religious zeal. One of the fellows concerned in the outrage was shot by "Port" Rockwell, January 16, 1862, "while attempting to escape from the officers." Two others were killed by the police of Salt Lake City the next day, and their taking off was explained in a similar manner.

Neither the veto nor the departure of Governor Dawson was allowed to halt the effort to gain statehood for Utah. On January 20, 1862, a convention met in Salt Lake City to frame a state constitution, nominate officials, and ask for admission to the Union. On March 3, without any authorization from Congress, an election of state officers was held, Brigham was chosen governor, Heber C. Kimball lieutenant-governor, and John M. Bernhisel member of Congress by unanimous vote. A legislature was elected at the same time. Six weeks later, this legislature met, and chose George Q. Cannon and William H. Hooper as United States senators.

This attempt to rush Congress into granting statehood came to nothing -- unless, perchance, it helped forward the passage of the first of federal laws dealing with polygamy in the territories. President Lincoln signed this anti-polygamy bill July 2, 1862. But for a season, the hopes of the hierarchy ran high. Indians were troubling the telegraph line; and Brigham was authorized to raise a company of militia for the protection of the wires until federal troops could be sent to the threatened spot. The required company was on its way in forty-eight hours under command of the same Lot Smith who had burned government trains five years before. But though Lincoln was willing to avoid trouble with the kingdom until more weighty matters were off his hands, he had already appointed a new territorial governor, and had no thought of yielding the federal authority to disloyal hierarchs.

In the absence of Dawson, Secretary Fuller was acting governor of Utah; and during his not very vigorous administration occurred one of the most pathetic tragedies of Mormon history. Joseph Morris was an ignorant and fervid Welshman, a convert to the Mormon church, who for years had eked out the halting processes of his reason by frequent and voluble communication with "spirits." Some months before the events now to be chronicled, the "spirits." had given Morris the task of delivering a rebuke to Brigham Young. Brigham answered only by a coarse jest. Thereupon Morris, who by this time undoubtedly had crossed the wavering line which separated his fanaticism from insanity, withdrew to Kington Fort, thirty-five miles north of Salt Lake City, and began to put forth full-fledged revelations. Several scribes were kept busy writing down the communications which Morris received from the Lord; and quite a number of Mormons, who had felt cheated at Brigham's refusal to deal in this sort of literature, flocked to the new fountain of inspiration.

Brigham sagaciously sat back, and allowed the delusion to run its course. Morris had insisted on a scheme of communism, and also had told his followers that there was no need for them to plant or harvest any more, since they had food enough on hand to last them till the second coming of Christ. A few weeks of close contact with this voluble madman sufficed for the more worldly-minded of his converts, who returned to the orthodox fold, and tried to get back from Morris their "consecrated" property. It is claimed that these recusants attempted to cheat the community by withdrawing more and better cattle and horses than they had brought. At any rate, the Morrisites seized two of the apostates and held them prisoners in Kington Fort.

Judge Kinney issued writs of habeas corpus, demanding that Morris produce his prisoners in court. When the unfortunate lunatic failed to do this, a posse was sent to arrest him. Morris refused to surrender. With what seems at best unseemly haste, General Burton, in command of the posse under authority of the United States marshal, opened fire on the Morrisite camp with a cannon, killing two women at the first shot. The Morrisites returned the fire with such weapons as were at their disposal, and killed two of Burton's posse. They kept up the fight three days, until their ammunition was gone, and then, June 16, raised the white flag. Burton and his followers at once entered camp.

The usual account of what followed is that Burton called on Morris to surrender, that the lunatic turned to address his people, and that Burton thereupon shot him dead. Immediately after -- still continuing the accustomed tale -- Burton shot and seriously wounded a Morrisite elder named Banks. A woman, Mrs. Bowman, ran up to Burton, calling him a bloodthirsty wretch; and remarking, "No one shall call me that and live!" Burton killed her. A Danish woman approached him crying, and Burton ended his work by shooting her, likewise.

This account cannot be accepted. Sixteen years afterwards, in 1879, Burton was tried for the murder of Mrs. Bowman, and acquitted by a jury composed of equal numbers of Mormons and Gentiles. Making all due allowance for the difficulty of securing a conviction after this lapse of time, and for the degree of evidence required -- and properly -- to secure a verdict of "Guilty" in a capital case, it is fair to conclude that Burton was innocent of this most heinous crime. His innocence of the murder of the Danish woman is still more certain, since it may be presumed that the district attorney elected the strongest case for trial.

The women were killed, however; Morris was killed; Elder Banks was wounded and died suddenly the same evening. There is nothing to show that a single one of these killings was necessary, yet they were done; and with the exception of Burton, no one was ever brought to trial for the multiplied slaughter. Neither has any just excuse been offered for Burton's act in suddenly firing with cannon on a camp known to contain women and children. This cannon fire cost at least two lives, again the lives of women; and for this, Burton was both morally and legally responsible. The simple fact was that Burton and Brigham, for that matter, were as careless of the lives of "apostates" as some bad types of union men are of the lives of "scabs," or as the average strike-breaking gunman is of the lives of strikers. It would be wrong to find any peculiar demerit in Mormonism because of a callousness which is as well known in industrial centres as in Utah. But if the new religion did not originate human intolerance, neither did it help that failing.

In July, 1862, the new federal appointees reached Utah. They were Stephen S. Harding, governor; and Thomas J. Drake and Charles B. Waite, associate judges. These last were appointed to take the places left vacant by the resignations of Flenniken and Crosby, who had been sent to Utah along with Governor Dawson, and had left only a month later than their distinguished executive. In the interim, Chief Justice John F. Kinney represented the federal judicial power in the territory, in odd moments spared from running his boarding-house. His decisions, like his menus, were shaped to please the tastes of his patrons.

No immediate clash took place between representatives of the Republic and heads of the kingdom, though it would have needed no great exercise of Brigham's prophetic faculty to see such conflicts approaching. For the time, the hierarchy was more concerned with another prospective "invasion." Colonel P. E. Connor, a veteran of the Mexican war and a superb soldier, had been ordered to Utah at the head of the Third California infantry. The service was unpleasant both to officers and men, who had enlisted for fighting, and were much disgusted at being set the task of watching Brigham. Colonel Connor begged to be ordered to the front. His men offered the government $30,000 for the privilege of being sent to the thick of the fighting in Virginia. The administration, however, considered that the Mormon kingdom would be the better for a little watching; and the Californians took up their march to Salt Lake City.

Connor had only 700 men -- a force which Brigham's Nauvoo Legion could have crushed in a few hours; but the colonel was a fair-sized army in himself. It had been supposed that he would go into quarters at Fort Crittenden, and those who had bought property at the fort were already counting the profits of a resale to the government. But Colonel Connor conceived that if he were to watch the Mormon kingdom, he needed to be as near the centre of that institution as possible, and flatly declined to be marooned forty miles away.

The moment this decision became known, rumors were heard that the federal troops would not be permitted to cross the Jordan, that they would be annihilated if they tried to enter the city. To these stories, Connor returned the answer that he would cross the Jordan, though hell yawned beneath him. On October 19, 1862, his little force passed this sacred river quite unopposed. When two miles from the city, he halted, formed his men in column with loaded muskets and shotted cannon, threw his few horsemen forward as an advance guard, and in this order, with bands playing and colours flying, entered the principal street of the city, marched to Emigration Square. and thence to the residence of Governor Harding. The whole population was out, but they gave the soldiers neither insult nor cheer. The only flag waving over a building in the city was that raised by Governor Harding The governor made a short speech to the soldiers. who responded with three cheers, led by their colonel; then they resumed their march to the high ground under the Wasatch Mountains, where they proceeded to form Camp Douglas. Brigham's residence was directly in range of their guns.

It was the first time Brigham had encountered a thoroughbred soldier, who was free to act as a soldier, without waiting on civilian "negotiations." It cannot be supposed that the "Lion of the Lord" found the experience a pleasant one. He was as little of a coward as Connor's self; but he had not and could not have the readiness for combat which marks the professional fighter; and the prophet had many things to consider which troubled the bold colonel not a whit. A few months later, Colonel Connor earned the gratitude of the northern Utah settlements by his victory over the Indians at Bear River; and the startling completeness of this campaign did not lessen the respect for his military prowess. Brigham bitterly hated heing under the guns of federal soldiers; but he took the sensible course of ignoring an annoyance which it was unsafe to try to abate.

The territorial legislature met in December, 1862, and on the eighth of that month, Governor Hardin read his message to the joint assembly. He tried to be both complimentary and conciliatory. But he also tried to speak the truth, to warn his hearers against certain practices and tendencies; and he had not learned that a community which claims to be under Divine guidance and inspiration accepts the most extravagant praise as no more than its due, and resents the mildest criticism as both insult and injury. Early in his message occur the following paragraphs:

"I am sorry to say that since my sojourn among you I have heard no sentiments, either publicly or privately expressed, that would lead me to believe that much sympathy is felt by any considerable number of your people in favor of the Government of the United States, now struggling for its very existence in the 'valley and the shadow' through which it has been called to pass. If I am mistaken in this opinion, no one will rejoice more than myself in acknowledging my error. I would, in the name of my bleeding country, that you, as representatives of public sentiment here, would speedily pass such resolution as will extort from me, if necessary, a public acknowledgment of my error -- if error I have committed.

"I have said this in no unkind spirit; I would much rather learn that the fault has been on my part than on yours."

Further on in his message, Governor Harding referred to the new federal law against polygamy in the territories, and warned the people that this law must be obeyed until repealed, or until declared unconstitutional.

The legislature heard this message with suppressed indignation, and refused to order it printed. They adjourned January 16, 1863, without having passed a single appropriation bill. The next day, the so-called legislature of the "State of Deseret" met; and Brigham, as "governor," sent in a message which was most respectfully received.

This was one of the most impolitic acts of Brigham's life. Considering that the application for statehood was still before Congress, it was an utterly absurd piece of impertinence. The only visible explanation is that both Brigham and the legislature were boiling with fury at Harding, and were more anxious to show their contempt for the governor than careful to trim their course with reference to its effect on Congress.

Governor Harding did not long remain in lonesome dignity on Brigham's black books. He was soon joined by the new associate justices. Judge Waite had been quick to notice the conflict of authority between local and federal courts, and the martial and legal weapons which were left in the hands of the kingdom through its control of the militia and of juries. He drew a bill providing that the United States marshal should select juries in the federal courts, limiting the power of the probate courts of the territory, and reorganizing the militia under the federal governor. This bill was sent to Washington, introduced in Congress; and immediately its chief provisions were wired back to Utah by "senator-elect" W. H. Hooper. To make matters worse, it was found that Governor Harding had endorsed the bill with the words: "This act should be passed."

The recall of judges is quite an issue in American politics at present; but the present writers believe Brigham Young was nearly or quite the first American who tried to put this doctrine into practice. A mass-meeting was called, which packed the Tabernacle March 3, 1863. Governor Harding's message to the legislature was read, and pronounced an "insult" to the community. John Taylor made a fiery address, and Brigham indulged to the full his rhetoric of invective. "Man, did I say?" he shouted. "Thing, I mean -- a nigger-worshipper, a black-hearted abolitionist, is what he is, and what he represents; and that I do naturally despise . . . Do you acknowledge this man Harding for your governor? (Voices all through the audience responded, 'No, you are our governor!') Yes, I am your governor; and I will let him know that I am governor; and if he attempts to interfere in my affairs, woe, woe unto him!

"Will you allow such a man to remain in the territory? ( Voices, 'No; put him out!') Yes, I say put him out. Judges Waite and Drake are perfect fools, and the tools of Governor Harding, and they, too, must leave. If all three do not resign, or if the President does not remove them, the people must attend to it!"

Resolutions were adopted, denouncing Governor Harding and Judges Waite and Drake. A petition was drawn up and circulated, asking President Lincoln to recall them. A committee was appointed to visit the three officials, and demand that they resign their offices and leave the territory forthwith.

These representatives of kingly and ecclesiastical arrogance were met in unfaltering fashion. Governor Harding received the committee courteously, and frankly told them that their charges against him were self-convicted lies. He declined to resign, declined to modify in any way his official actions, and promised his visitors that while it was well within their power to kill him, it was not within their power to escape retribution. Judge Waite answered that for him to resign would be to admit that he was guilty or afraid. "I am not conscious of either guilt or fear," he added. "I must therefore respectfully decline to accede to your request."

But it was from judge Drake that the "committee on recall of judges" received a baptism of pepper which still tingles the skins of church historians as they write. The staunch old man lacked something of the temper of a judge -- but nothing of the spirit of a citizen. "Go back to Brigham Young, your master, that embodiment of sin and shame and disgust, and tell him that I neither fear him nor love him nor hate him -- that I utterly despise him. Tell him, whose tools and tricksters you are, that I did not come here by his permission, and that I will not go away at his desire nor by his directions . . . I am no skulk from the punishment of crimes. I tell you if you, or the man whom you so faithfully serve, attempt to interfere with my lawful business, you will meet with trouble of a character you do not expect.

"A horse-thief or a murderer has, when arrested, the right to speak in court; and unless in such capacity, or under such circumstances, don't you ever dare to speak to me again."

This flat and triply repeated defiance of kingly authority was uttered March 4, 1863. Four days later, the officers at Camp Douglas forwarded to President Lincoln a statement, denying in toto Mormon charges against the three officials, and protesting against their removal. Events were moving with unaccustomed rapidity in the Mormon kingdom. Before the month was out, the Gentile governor had defied Zion again, and in most practical fashion. Ninety three Morrisites, arrested after the death of their leader, had been bound over for trial before the boarding-house judge, John F. Kinney. At the March term of court, this eminent jurist sentenced seven of these Morrisites to terms in prison for murder in the second degree, and imposed fares on sixty-eight others for resisting an officer." The fact of resistance was unquestionable, and death caused in this manner is doubtless to be classed as manslaughter or murder. But every extenuating circumstance which the Mormons have ever claimed for themselves in their conflicts with their "enemies," could be pleaded in behalf of the Morrisites; and no person can read the evidence today without being convinced that the prisoners were far more sinned against than sinning. On March 31, Governor Harding pardoned the entire seventy-five.

If it had not been for the presence of the indomitable Connor and his small but ready army, it is very unlikely that Harding would have escaped vengeance. The fortunes of the Union were not high, and a little later, between Chancellorsville and Gettysburg, they sunk so low that no threat from Washington could have given pause to the outraged lord of the Mormon kingdom. But Patrick Edward Connor was a very present deterrent of strife. The bravest man, if unaccustomed to soldiering, shrinks from attack on even a small force, when that force is known to be enthusiastically devoted to a commander of the sort who will die rather than yield. Connor had to the full the vanity of the native-born fighting man, and his Indian campaigns show a mercilessness closely bordering on cruelty. But many a man won glory and renown on eastern battlefields whose real services to the nation were ten times surpassed by those of the gallant brigadier marooned in the inter-mountain deserts. His presence averted trouble until news came of Gettysburg and Vicksburg; and after that, the danger of armed strife was over.

Still Brigham's campaign for the recall of federal officials bore fruit. He enlisted the help of the telegraph and express companies; they called in friendly senators; and Lincoln, who had enough of fighting on hand in the East, gave partial compliance. He removed Harding from the governorship of Utah to make him chief justice of Colorado territory. At the same time, however, judge Kinney's official head dropped into the basket; and Dr. Fuller, territorial secretary, was likewise removed. The kingdom had little to boast of in the encounter, after all, though Brigham relieved his feelings and emphasized his contempt for eastern opinion by sending judge Kinney to Congress as territorial delegate.* Judge Waiteheld a term of court at which not a single case was presented, and resigned in disgust. Judge Drake remained, but there was nothing for him to do. The tone of ecclesiastical comment seems to show that Brigham respected the old judge's courage.

[*That was the beginning of high political rewards to "Jack-Mormons" -- as sycophantic Gentiles are called. The policy has enlarged with the growth of the kingdom: and to-day the Mormon ruler showers senatorships, governorships, judgeships, and seats in the lower house at Washington, upon Jack-Mormons of the states which are under his dominion.]

Meanwhile the Civil War was drawing to its close, and the kingdom began making overtures to the now dominating power of the nation. General Connor was taken into favour at Salt Lake City -- despite the fact that he was encouraging miners to dig among the hills of Utah. Members of the hierarchy joined with officers from Camp Douglas in celebrating the late Union victories, and the second inauguration of Lincoln. When Lincoln was murdered, memorial services were held in the tabernacle. When General Connor left to assume command of the military department of the Platte, a ball was given in his honour in the city -- but Brigham was not present. As he had been alone in expressing regret when the republic seemed rushing to destruction, so Brigham was the last to stand out against paying homage to her new fortune.

The Sunday before Appomattox, he declared from the pulpit that there were still four years of war ahead. One may smile at this unconscious comment on the pretension to prophecy; but one must recognize the staunchness of the prophet.