Alphonso Snow.--Letter from President Taylor.--Called on mission.--In
Tennessee.--Strange dialect.--Travels and preaches.--Organizes
a Branch.--Opposition.--Ordered to leave.--A dastardly
letter.--Opposition promotes good.--Professors of religion the
persecutors.--What a Deacon said.--Presides over a Conference.--In
Georgia.--Alphonso released.--Visits relatives.
On the 23d of February, A.D. 1881, I was somewhat surprised to receive
a letter from President John Taylor, requesting me to take a mission to
the Southern States. Surprised I certainly was, for my mind up to this
time had not been turned to religious matters, and my maxim was, "I
sought no change." But from the moment I received the appointment I was
determined to fulfil my mission to the best of my ability.
I was, at that time, engaged in teaching school, and after a few weeks
of preparation, I bade adieu to my kindred and friends, and soon
found myself among strangers and those "who know not God." Thrown
thus entirely upon my own resources, I now commenced to search the
Scriptures, and the germ of the Gospel, hitherto undeveloped, sprang
apparently into life.
My field of labor was in the States of Tennessee and Kentucky,
principally in the former. I found the country people far behind my
expectation, both intellectually and financially. However, I entered
actively into the work, and soon found much to interest me in my labors
and in the people themselves. Their peculiar phraseology was often
truly amusing; such expressions as "tote," "reckon," "we 'uns," "you
'uns," etc., were household words. I remember shortly after my arrival
at my destination, while stopping with one of the "good families," the
lady of the house sent her son-in-law, Dr. ----, to call me to dinner,
when he accosted me thus: "Elder Snow, I have been requested to _carry_
you to dinner"--carry being a common term for fetch. I at first thought
he was jesting, but glancing up and seeing an earnest expression on his
face, I replied: "Do you think you can do it?" It was now his turn to
be surprised, to have an utter stranger, when politely asked to dinner,
reply, "Do you think you can do it?"
During the summer of 1881, Elder B. H. Roberts, my traveling companion,
and myself held as many as six and seven meetings a week, often walking
from twenty to thirty miles each day in the hot, broiling sun, to fill
our appointments. At first we met with little success, but later in
the summer those who believed offered themselves for baptism, and we
organized a branch of the Church, consisting of forty-four members.
Up to this time, in the fall of 1881, we had received but little
persecution, but when we commenced making converts the people became
enraged, and many threats were breathed against us. Notices were
posted up on trees and schoolhouses requesting us to leave the county
forthwith. About this time, while left alone with the Saints, upon
going to the post office for my mail, I received the following note:
Shooters' Hamlet, September 14, 1881.
_Most Infamous Scoundrel_:
You are warned to leave this county in one week; if you remain it will
be at the peril of your life. We have measured the ground; go, or we
will hang you like dogs.
Indignant Citizens.
No attention was paid to this threat, and the only effect it had was to
increase the supply of Mr. H.'s buckshot. The author of this letter was
the son of a Presbyterian minister, a portion of whose flock had been
added to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
I had often read of the persecutions and death of our Savior, which was
brought about and accomplished by religious sects, those who professed
to follow strictly the rites and ceremonies of Moses and the Prophets;
this was often a mystery and a source of astonishment to me; nor could
I understand, until my brief experience among the modern Pharisees, how
those who professed to be so good and holy could perpetrate such horrid
deeds. A deacon in one of the popular sects of the day, while visiting
our host, who, by the way, was not connected with any religious
society, the subject of "Mormonism" being broached, said: "Mr. H., if
I could raise a mob to-day I would drive those Mormon Elders from the
county or hang them to a tree." "You would," replied Mr. H., "well, I'm
not a religious man, as you are; in fact I'm what you _good_ people
please to term a wicked man, but _I_ would not commit such a bloody
deed as you propose doing; and, further, I expect those Elders to my
house to-night, and if you insult them, say nothing of hanging, I'll
shoot you deader than h--l!" The deacon left prior to our arrival.
Upon many other occasions when meeting and school-houses were closed
against us, when we were threatened to be attacked by night, and
pistols were handed us for our protection, never upon one occasion,
when we took time to investigate, did we fail to trace the cause of
these persecutions to a religious source. The persecution of the Elders
in the Southern States is commonly of a more sanguine nature than in
most other parts of the world. And though this is so, on the other
hand our friends usually are as determined to protect us. Here the the
Southerner sallies out against the "Mormon" Elder with hickory withes,
knives and pistols. In the Northern States, for example, it is of a
milder nature, as being rotten-egged, tarred and feathered, etc. Here,
also, our host usually says, "If they injure you it will be over my
dead body," while elsewhere the Elders' friends are often half-hearted;
though even here there are exceptions to the rule, for I myself have
had firearms handed me for my protection, while the family retired to a
back room.
In October of 1881, I was called upon to assist President John Morgan
in the correspondence of the mission. The headquarters were then at
Nashville, Tennessee, and much of my time subsequently was spent in
that city, especially during the absence of President Morgan, when I
was expected to look after the general affairs of the mission.
In the spring of 1882, I was appointed to preside over the East
Tennessee Conference. During the summer I traveled into middle
Tennessee, in Hickman county, and spent a pleasant month with "Uncle"
Robin Church, who embraced the truth many years ago, and upon one
occasion went hunting with David Patten when he was preaching through
the south.
In the fall of the same year I was called upon to accompany a party of
Saints to Colorado. Accordingly, about the middle of November, I left
with over one hundred emigrants, and after a tedious journey of five
days, we reached Manassa, Colorado, where the Saints were settling,
and were met at the depot by the people, who received us with the
hospitality proverbial of the southern people. Though the valley, the
San Luis, had been but newly settled, still much headway had been made,
and the people were enjoying themselves both temporally and spiritually.
I spent the remainder of the winter in Chattanooga and the northern
part of the State of Georgia, looking after the general affairs of the
mission, during Elder John Morgan's absence to Salt Lake.
In the spring of 1833, I was honorably released from my mission to
return home at my earliest convenience. I took a trip up through the
Carolinas to Philadelphia, visited Independence Hall, etc., and then
up to New York. In the latter city I met a number of our Utah people,
among others, Bishop John Sharp, John W. Young, and Elder James Hart.
I accompanied the latter to Williamsburg, and addressed the Saints
there on Sunday afternoon. From New York I took train for Auburn, Ohio,
to visit my relatives. I found many of my father's cousins in good
circumstances, financially, but not desiring, as a rule, to investigate
the truths of the Gospel, though I was treated with marked respect and
attention. After spending about three weeks with my father's relatives
in Ohio and in the city of Chicago, I left for my "mountain home," not
perhaps with such haste as Irving describes Ichabod Crane--that a game
of marbles might be played on his coat tail, but it seemed the cars
moved westward slowly indeed. I reached Salt Lake in time to attend
April Conference, having been absent on my mission just two years to a
day. A. H. Snow.