The next morning, the 8th of September, when Captain Van Arden went
down to the breakfast table, his whilom companion, the silent Stevens,
was already enjoying himself at a table in the corner of the dining
room. The captain at once joined him, and found that the silent lips
could open, and the reserved manner melt, when the owner so willed it.
At ten o'clock the two wended their way in friendly chat to the Social
Hall, the place appointed for the proposed meeting.
The captain found the room a well-lighted, large hall, with a raised
dais or stage, in the east end, surmounted by an arch which evidenced a
curtain, perhaps for the purpose of dramatic entertainments. As another
surprise, the captain caught sight of a plaster cast of the Bard of
Avon in the center of the proscenium arch, smiling down upon any
Thespian devotees who might be present. The floor was mostly covered
with a bright rag carpet, and the windows were tastefully draped with
dark red hangings.
President Young came forward, and again the captain found himself under
that magnetic charm; but he was himself a man of the world, and he was
moreover exceedingly anxious to carry his point with these people,
however much he might sympathize with them after learning their true
character and position. He was in the employ of the United States army,
and had a most important duty to perform. Accordingly, as soon as the
preliminary greetings were over, he addressed himself to the "Mormon"
leader, and preferred his request.
"Governor Young, I come with a letter from my superiors and with
orders to purchase stores and forage and lumber with which to make our
soldiers, who are on their way here, comfortable during their journey."
"May I ask, Captain, what soldiers are on their way here and what
brings them out to these western wilds?"
The captain was off his guard for the moment at the unexpected
questions. He was aware that everyone present knew beforehand the
answer required at his hands, and he hesitated at the choice of proper
terms with which to convey the unwelcome intelligence which all were
already in possession of; however, the questions must be answered.
"Through some unhappy misunderstanding, Governor, the President of the
United States has been informed that the records of this Territory
have been burned, and that the people here are inimical to the ruling
government."
"The records of the Territory are in the proper receptacle for such
documents, and this people, as you can testify, if you will use your
eyes and your ears, while you are with us, are as peaceful and as
law-abiding citizens of the great United States as any that dwell
beneath the shadow of the flag. I see no justification for thus sending
down an army upon us."
"Permit me to observe, your Excellency, that the army is not sent out
here to do harm or to annoy the peaceable and law-abiding citizens of
this Territory, but to protect such from all out-laws and murderers,
whether Indians or whites."
"We have a fully organized and properly acknowledged corps of
territorial officers, and are and have always been able to protect the
inhabitants of this Territory from insult or injury."
The captain proceeded as delicately as he could to convey the
information that a new governor had been appointed for the Territory,
who was with the main body of the troops, and would enter the Territory
and assume his office as soon as circumstances would permit. He was a
wise and prudent man, this new governor, by name Cumming, and he would
be a friend to the people, and a support to all concerned--so the
captain endeavored to assure the assembled council.
"I am the governor of this Territory," answered Brigham Young, "and as
such, shall take the proper measures to insure the life and liberty
of the patient, peaceful inhabitants of these valleys. You may tell
your commander that we, as a people, have been robbed and murdered,
our wives outraged, and our men massacred, being driven from state
to state, until we came out to this desert wild, and here, by the
blessings of God, we have made the desert to blossom like the rose and
the wilderness to gush forth. We have asked no help from the United
States save that given to any other distant territory. After we came
here, we planted the flag of our country upon our Ensign Peak within
twenty-four hours, thus taking formal possession of this country in
the name of the United States; and from that hour we have held out our
welcoming arms to the honest and peaceable of all nations and tongues.
We love our country and would take up arms in her defense, as our own
'Mormon' Battalion has so well shown, but we shall never submit to
being murdered and pillaged by a lot of cut-throats and out-laws, for
we will die, ourselves, before we submit to such indignities again."
A low murmur of approval went round the assembled council, and it was
some moments before the officer could be heard, explaining that the
United States had no intention whatever of committing any depredations
or offering the least violence to any person or set of persons.
"We do not want to fight the United States," said the Governor, "but if
they drive us to it, we shall do the best we can; and I tell you as the
Lord lives we shall come off conquerors. The United States are sending
their army here simply to hold us until some mob can come and butcher
us as has been done before. We are supporters of the government and
love the constitution and respect the laws of the United States; but
it is by the corrupt administration of those laws that we are made to
suffer. Most of the government officers who have been sent here have
taken no interest in us, but on the contrary have tried to destroy us.
What do you think of the patience of a people who have submitted to
seeing a pimp set up as our honorable judge, to seeing him bring his
strumpet with him and have her sit close beside him on the judicial
bench, while he delivered his unrighteous rulings? Others like him
complain that there is no civilization in Utah because, forsooth, there
are no gambling hells or houses of prostitution. The officers sent here
are often the vilest and most wicked of men."
"Most of the men sent to the Territory," answered the diplomatic
captain, "have received their office as a political reward, or as
a stepping stone to some higher office; but too often, they have
no interest in common with the people. The greatest hold that the
government now has upon you is in the accusation that you have burned
the United States records."
"I deny that any of the books of the United States have been burned.
You are at liberty to examine the books as proof of this statement,"
said the Governor. "I have broken no law, and in the present state of
affairs, I will not suffer myself to be taken by any United States
officer to be killed, as they killed our own beloved Prophet Joseph
Smith."
"I do not think it is the intention of the government to arrest you,"
said the captain, "but to install a new governor in the Territory."
"I believe that you tell the truth," returned the President, "that you
believe this--but you do not know their intentions as well as I do. If
they dare to force the issue, I will not hold the Indians by the wrist
as I do now, for white men to shoot at; they shall go ahead and do as
they please. If the issue comes, you may tell the government to stop
all emigration across the continent, for the Indians will kill all who
attempt it. And if any army succeeds in penetrating this valley, tell
the government to see that it has provisions and forage in store, for
they will find here only a charred and barren waste. We have plenty
here of what you want, but we will sell you nothing. Further than this,
your army shall not enter this valley until I say so."
The captain was overwhelmed with surprise; he expected to find a few
fanatical fools, and found himself confronted with an assembly of
shrewd, determined men. Their talk was the talk of an equal power
measuring arms with the great body of the American people.
He tried to show the President that it would be useless to thwart the
government in its plans to station troops in Great Salt Lake Valley.
If such was the determination of the central government, a handful of
mountaineers, albeit shrewd, hardy, and fired with religious zeal,
which was the bulwark of all lofty courage, would nevertheless sooner
or later be compelled to submit.
"We have no fight with the United States," said Brigham Young, "but
when these troops, which you say must eventually quarter in this
Valley, arrive, they will find Utah a desert; every house will be
burned to the ground, every tree cut down, and every field made into a
barren waste. We have three years' provisions on hand, which we will
cache, and then take to the mountains; and we shall receive from them
the protection which we desire and which we have always deserved."
The interview was thus terminated. The captain had come to impress
this set of fanatics with the might and majesty of the United States
government; he was, instead, impressed with the strange, unnatural
earnestness of this band of gallant men, whom he could but see were
honest, pure and intelligent.
At the close of the council Captain Van Arden was invited by the
governor to share the hospitality of his home for the remainder of
the day. As they left the hall, the Captain found his old traveling
companion standing upon the steps, and the President invited John
Stevens home to dine with them, and to spend the afternoon.
As the party walked up the short hill towards the President's house
they met a small group of young people, and John's eye, from under
the broad hat, recognized pretty Ellen Tyler and the elegant form and
handsome face of Diantha Winthrop. Some young men were with them, and
momentary greetings were passed between John and his friends.
After the meeting was over, Ellie turned to Diantha and asked her
eagerly:
"Did you ever see such a handsome man; oh, isn't he just superb?" And
she gave herself a tiny hug in evidence of the sincere admiration she
felt for the brilliant stranger they had just passed.
"He had a very fine pair of side whiskers, if that is what you mean.
And his coat was very blue and his buttons were very bright also,"
answered Diantha, laughingly. "You can always pick out handsome men,
Ellie, but we passed so quickly that I did not get a good look at his
face."
"Who on earth were you looking at, then?" asked Ellen, "I can't see how
it is, Dian, that you are so slow to see people. I see everyone at a
glance."
"I was looking at our President and thinking what a glorious leader we
have."
"I guess you also saw John Stevens," said Tom Allen, who was walking
beside Ellen.
"Oh, yes, I saw John. Who could help seeing him? He is too big to
escape anyone's eyes," answered Dian, indifferently. "Here comes my
brother Appleton."
The days following were filled with appointments for Captain Van Arden
to meet and share the hospitality of the leading men of the Valley. The
gravity of the situation seemed swallowed up for the time being by a
burst of genuine hospitality.
The third day the captain promised to spend with Bishop Winthrop, who
proposed a ride to the Warm Springs in the afternoon, returning to the
house for an early dinner when the Captain was to meet the ladies of
the Bishop's household.
The expected day came all too soon for the women folks, who had much
work to do to receive their guests in proper manner. The riding party
was to be home for dinner at four o'clock; and at that hour, Aunt Clara
Tyler, who had been invited, and the two girls, Diantha and Ellen,
stood in the front room, watching for the party.
"Oh, isn't it perfectly lovely to think of seeing and talking to that
splendid captain, Dian; I am just trembling with excitement," and Ellen
Tyler fluttered restlessly about, going from window to window, in utter
inability to control her impatience.
Aunt Clara stood looking down the street, and at the words of the
impulsive girl, she turned on her those gentle yet steady black eyes,
and chided:
"My child, there is nothing remarkable about this captain. He is good
looking, to be sure, but that is a very small matter. He wears a
uniform, but that, too, is of little account. He comes to this people
in an official capacity, and as such, our brethren have thought proper
to show him all courtesy. But let me tell you, neither your father nor
President Young himself would permit this man, nor any other stranger,
to enter within the inner portals of his family life. You are a silly
girl to waste a thought upon him."
Diantha sat rocking herself coolly in the big rush-bottomed rocker, and
with whimsical contrariness, she took up Ellen's argument.
"I don't see, Aunt Clara, why one man isn't as good as another, if he
behaves as well. I don't know anything about this captain, but suppose
he or any other non-Mormon who is a good, honorable man, with not a
shadow of sin or vice in him, should happen to take a notion to me, I
can't see where the harm would be in taking a notion to him. Surely
you don't mean to imply that all the good men, and all the desirable
men are 'Mormons.' I think that is a very narrow view. What are your
reasons?"
"There are two reasons, my dears. One is the solemn fact that a
marriage ceremony solemnized by any other than by one divinely
appointed and having authority from God to do so, ceases at death; a
separation from a loved one after death, to continue throughout all the
ages of eternity would be far more agonizing and intolerable than the
mere earthly separation which is for a few flying years."
"Well," answered Ellen, flippantly, "that's not much of a reason. If
you are sure of being happy here, why not let hereafter take care of
itself? 'Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.'"
"Ah, my child, you speak with the bitterness of the world-old
scepticism and unbelief on your lips. That vain philosophy has wrecked
more hearts than any other phrase ever uttered. There is also another
reason; a very present and most cogent reason; one that effects our
every day lives. It is this: Married people should be mated on the
three planes upon which human beings meet and mingle--the physical, the
mental and the spiritual. If they be mismated on either the mental or
physical planes, a harmonious adjustment may be possible through the
diligent exercise of the spiritual graces. But if the mismating is on
the spiritual plane, such a couple will surely find their happiness
shipwrecked, sooner or later. Try as you may, twist as you will, you
nor none other may ever escape the bondage and sorrow that comes
to those who are separated by a spiritual gulf. I have never seen
happiness as the result of such unequal yoking, and I never shall.
When, as sometimes happens there comes a measure of peace to such
mismated couples, it is simply and only because the one has sunk, or
has risen to the spiritual plane occupied by the other. Mark what I
say, Ellen, my girl."
"Well, I shall marry for love, Auntie; and I shall never take a sorrow
on my heart which I cannot kick off from my heels."
Aunt Clara did not turn around to face the speaker; she merely said:
"I don't think God makes mistakes; and He has said, through his former
and latter-day prophets, that it is not right for the believer to mate
with the unbeliever."
"Oh, here they are, Auntie; here they are!" cried Ellen.
Ellen turned and ran impulsively out on the front porch; Aunt Clara and
Diantha followed her in a more leisurely manner, while Sister Rachel
Winthrop, the hostess of the occasion, joined them as soon as the word
reached her, and thus the four women stood waiting to receive their
guests under the shaded porch.
President Young led the way up the steps with Captain Van Arden close
by him. The President introduced the captain to the ladies, since
Bishop Winthrop was still busy at the gate with others of the party.
The captain looked with genuine yet well-guarded interest into the
faces of the two young "Mormon" girls, almost the first he had met.
His interest grew into admiration, as he noted the lovely brown eyes,
and the curling tresses of glossy brown hair floating around the head
of sweet, fascinating Ellen Tyler. Her lips were curved and rosy with
health and beauty, and her low brow and delicately-traced eyebrows were
like those of a Grecian goddess. Her sparkling charm was not alone in
the regular and beautiful features, nor in the well-molded yet dainty
form; but in and through every glance, every word, there sparkled an
indefinable attraction which no one could resist. Women loved her,
men adored her. And this stranger instantly felt the force of her
loveliness. He was a man of the world, too prudent to manifest much
interest in women of this peculiar and just now excited people, but he
shot a glance of daring admiration into the brown depths of Ellen's
eyes, which she, as daringly accepted.
Diantha was a little behind the others, and as she came forward for
an introduction, the captain mentally exclaimed: "By Jove! where do
they get such beauty from?" For the elegant dignity of the girl's
carriage was fully warranted by the superb outlines of her face and
form. Her head was crowned with its soft weight of yellow hair, braid
over braid of its golden glory breaking into tiny waves on her brow;
the neck curved gradually into the loveliest shoulders and bust he had
ever beheld; and these lines melted into so round and pliant a waist
that he felt sure she could well pose in marble for a perfect Hebe.
Her face was not so beautiful as that of the brown-eyed maiden, but it
was so engaging in its details of coral lips, parting over teeth like
white shells, richest pink cheeks and a full, strong, pink chin, that
no one could withhold the meed of admiration which this magnificent
girl demanded. She had such a cool, superior way of looking at people,
with steady eyes and even eyelids, that even this worldly wise captain
wondered if the girl were a perfect woman of the world, supremely
conscious of her own charms, or was she simply utterly ignorant and
therefore unconscious of the impression she made upon every one who saw
her.
Both girls were dressed in white; but Ellen's dress fluttered and
broke into endless intricacies of bows, ends, ribbons, flounces and
rosettes, while Dian's hung in long, simple, classic folds from the
short, baby waist to the toe of the tiny boots. Clearly, thought the
captain, as his artistic eye noted these details, some inherent art has
taught these two girls the secret of their own beauty and how best to
emphasize it.
All these thoughts flashed through the captain's mind in an instant;
and yet, if he was shrewd enough to cease his earnest attention to
the girls before it became noticeable, his mind was busy all that
afternoon, in spite of the effort to control his words, with surmises
and a most natural desire to see more and hear something about these
beautiful girls.
As the party came into the house, Diantha found herself close to tall,
quiet John Stevens. She looked at him in surprise; she did not remember
to have seen John look so handsome. He had on a new suit, and he looked
so clean and wholesome, so true and so brave that she instinctively
accorded him a rather more gracious smile than she altogether intended.
She did not notice this latter fact, however, until she saw how coolly
he accepted her unusual demonstration of welcome. Then, to be sure she
felt humiliated to think that she had been even a little glad to see
him.
"Did you ever see Ellen Tyler look so sweet in her life?" asked John.
"Ellen is a fine girl."
Now, Dian was and always had been a very generous girl, but this
unexpected and utterly uncalled for remark on the part of John Stevens
was not precisely to her liking. But as he looked so unconscious of her
pleasure or displeasure, she wisely refrained from offering any sharp
admonition or spicy council, as was so natural to practical Dian.
"I am of the opinion that your gay captain has the same way of
thinking," she answered, and as she spoke, John looked in the captain's
direction, and he, too, could see the vain attempts of the officer to
keep his eyes away from Ellen's fascinating features. At once John
sauntered up to Ellen and never in her life had Ellen known this
reticent man to show so much animation and gay interest in her as he
did that afternoon.
"Why, John," asked Ellen herself, banteringly, "what has come over you?
I have tried my best to go with you for two years past and you have
insisted on being only friendly and brotherly and all that; and just
now, unless I am mistaken, you are trying pretty hard to flirt with me.
What's it all about, anyway?"
John answered her in his grave, quizzical way that his meaning was even
more earnest than apparent, and then begged her to go out in the garden
while the others were at supper.
"I can't possibly, I must help wait on the table, you know. I am to
have special charge of the head of the table, so won't I have a fine
chance to catch the captain's eye?"
Just then Diantha was invited to sing, and she sat down to the little
melodeon with modest assurance. After she had sung twice, Harvey joined
her with his concertina, and they both sang and played with charming
compliance to the repeated calls of "more, more."
Finding that it was impossible to take Ellen away, John followed the
party into the dining room, and was delighted to find himself seated
next to Captain Van Arden. He felt all the current of mutual admiration
and silent understanding that passed between the lively girl and the
blue-coated stranger, and he ground his teeth in silent rage that he
was unable wholly to intercept the glances and occasional words that
passed between them.
After dinner Bishop Winthrop led the way to the gardens, and the talk
turned upon the determination of the President and his people to
leave this whole city in ruins behind them after their flight to the
mountains, provided the army should obtain entrance to the valley.
The captain was walking with Aunt Clara, whose gentle face and charming
manner had captured his heart completely. He felt that she was a good
and noble woman, and he wondered how all this sanguinary talk would
affect so womanly a creature.
He looked down into the kindly black eyes and remarked:
"I hope, madam, that with such gentle counsels as yours, these strong
men will not carry out such a dismal threat as the President has just
voiced. I could not imagine tender women and helpless children driven
from these peaceful homes and inviting surroundings."
"Be assured that if our brothers and fathers feel that it is best for
us to give up our homes and once more be wanderers upon the earth, we
women will accompany them as cheerfully as if we were taking the safest
pleasure journey. I know of no cowards among our women."
"What, madam, would you consent to see this beautiful home destroyed
and this fruitful orchard ruined?"
"Yes, I would not only consent to it, but with my own hands set fire
to my house, and cut down every tree in the orchard and uproot every
plant."
The captain stood in silent amazement. What was the moving force that
bound this singular people to such united action! Surely there was a
sociological puzzle here for some philosopher to fathom.
The party soon dispersed, and other days of like pleasure made the
hours fly until the Captain had been in the valley nearly a week.