Chapter V. On the Road to Freedom

In any discussion of the public affairs that make the subject matter of

this narrative, a line of discrimination must be drawn at the year 1890.

In that year the Church began a progressive course of submission to

the civil law, and the nation received each act of surrender with

forgiveness. The previous defiance's of the Mormon people ceased to give

grounds for a complaint against them. The old harshnesses of the Federal

government were canceled by the new generosity of a placated nation. And

neither party to the present strife in Utah should go back, beyond the

period of this composition, to dig up, from the past, its buried wrongs.

In relating, here, some of the events of 1888 and 1889, I have tried

neither to justify the Mormons nor to defend their prosecutors. I have

wished merely to make clear the situation in Utah, and to introduce to

you, in advance, some of the leaders of the distracted community, so

that you might understand the conditions from which the Mormons escaped

by giving their covenant to the nation and be able to judge of the

obligations and responsibilities of the men who gave it.

I, have described the promulgation and acceptance of "the manifesto"

with such circumstance and detail, because of what has since occurred in

Utah. Let me add that some two weeks later the General Conference of

the Church endorsed the President's pronouncement as "authoritative and

binding." And let me point out that it was the first and only law of the

Mormon Church ever so sustained by triple sanctities--"revealed" as

a command from God, accepted by the prophets in solemn fraternity

assembled, and ratified by the vote of the entire "congregation of

Israel" before it was declared to be binding upon men.

At first, because of the somewhat indefinite promise of the message

itself, many of the non-Mormons of Utah remained suspicious and in

doubt of it. But it was recognized by Judge Zane, in court--on the

day following the close of the Conference--as an official declaration,

"honest and sincere." The newspapers throughout the whole country so

received it. The Church authorities sent assurances to Washington that

convinced the statesmen, there, of the completeness and finality of the

submission. And the good faith of the covenant was at last admitted by

the non-Mormons of Utah and endorsed by their trust. I do not know

of any change in human affairs dependent on human will--more speedy,

effective and comprehensive than this recession. Within the space of a

few days a revolution was completed that had been sought by the power

of our nation and of the civilized world, for a generation, with stripes

and imprisonment, death, confiscation and the ostracism of the country's

public contempt. It had been obtained, I knew, chiefly by the sagacity

of the First Councillor using the pressure of circumstances to enforce

the persuasions of diplomacy. I felt that a miracle of change had been

brought to pass. He had placed us on the road to freedom; and I trusted

his guidance to lead us to our goal.

That goal, to me personally, was the honor of American citizenship--an

ambition that had been an obsession with me from my earliest youth. I

had never heard a man on a railroad train talk of how he was going to

vote in a national election, without feeling a pang of shamed envy;

for my lack of citizenship seemed a mark of inferiority. The patriotic

reading of my boyhood had made the American republic, to me, the noblest

administration of freemen in the history of government and the exercise

of its franchise literally the highest dignity of human privilege. I

would have been as proud--I was as proud when the day came--to vote for

the President of the United States as he could have been to take his

oath of office. I do not believe that any poor serf, escaped from the

tyranny of Russia, ever saw the American shore with a more grateful eye

than I looked to the prospect of being admitted, with the citizens of

Utah, into the enfranchisement of the Republic.

But it was evident that the Church's recession from polygamy would not

be enough to free us, so long as its control of politics remained. Its

other practices had flourished and been sheltered under its political

power; and now that the Church had ceased to be a lawbreaker, our

friends in Washington were properly expecting that it would cease to

interfere with its members in the exercise of their citizenship. For

this reason, when I was notified that I had been selected as a member of

the advisory committee of the People's Party (the Church party), I went

at once to my father and told him that I would not take the place;

that I intended to work, personally, and through my newspaper, for the

political division of Utah on the lines of the national parties. He held

that until Gentile solidarity was dissolved, it would be dangerous to

divide the allegiance of the Mormons; but he did not stand against

my protest; he contented himself--diplomatically--with sending me to

consult with President Woodruff and Joseph F. Smith.

To them, I argued that the political emancipation of the Mormon people

from ecclesiastical direction was as necessary as the recession from

polygamy had been. We must be set free to perform our duty to the

country solely as citizens of the country, before we could expect to be

given the right to perform it at all. And, for my part, the only action

I would consent to take as a member of the advisory committee of the

People's Party would be to vote for the dissolution of the party.

President Woodruff referred me to my father, and advised me to be guided

by him. Joseph F. Smith urged that a division of the Mormon people on

national party lines would enable the Liberal (the Gentile) party to

march in between. I argued in reply that we must divide at some time,

and the sooner the better, since every year was increasing the Gentile

population. They would never split as long as we remained solid. And if

we were ever to be permitted to nationalize ourselves, it would not be

until we had dissolved the party organizations whose very names were a

proof of the continued rule of the Church in politics.

When he had no more arguments to advance, he gave a reluctant assent to

mine. I reported back to my father and he approved of my plans. He asked

me humorously with whom I expected to affiliate, since he knew of no one

who was likely to go with me; but I could see that he was pleased with

my independence and hoped I might succeed in doing something to break

the deadlock-grapple of Mormon and Gentile that held Utah apart from the

rest of the country in politics.

His humorous idea of my undertaking gave its color to my beginnings.

It was rather a spirited adventure, as I look back upon it now. When we

organized a Republican Club at Ogden, my intimate friend, Ben E. Rich,

and another friend named Joseph Belnap, were the only Mormons, so far

as I know, who joined me in becoming members. Outside of us three, I did

not know of another Mormon Republican in the whole territory.

Indeed, the status of the Mormon people, in their fancied relation to

the two great parties of the country, was almost identical with that of

the people of the South after the Civil War. Practically every Mormon

believed himself to be a Democrat. Among the young men of the Church

there had been occasional attempts to form Democratic Clubs. Mr. John

T. Caine, delegate in Congress from the territory, was a Democrat. My

father had sat on the Democratic side of the House. Almost all the men

who had braved the sentiments of their own states, to speak for us in

Congress, had been Democrats. And, of course, the administration of the

laws that had been so cruel to the feelings of the Mormons had been in

Republican hands.

Two years earlier, in Ogden, I had spoken in a meeting of Republicans

that had been called to rejoice over the election of Benjamin Harrison

to the Presidency; and I was still being taunted by my Mormon friends

with having clasped hands with "the persecutors of the Prophets." When

I came out, now, as an advocate of Republicanism, I was met everywhere

with this charge--that I had joined the enemies of the Church, that

I was assisting the persecutors of my father. The fact that my father

approved of what I was doing, relieved the seriousness of the situation

for me; and the humorous assistance of Ben Rich in our political

evangelism gave a secret chuckle to many of the incidents of our

campaign.

We went from town to town, from district to district, up the

mountain valleys, across the plains, into mining camps and farming

communities--using the meeting-houses, the school-rooms, the town

halls--taking the afternoon to coax the tired workers of the fields or

of the mines to come and hear us in the evening, and watching them fall

asleep in the light of our borrowed kerosene lamps while we talked. They

came eagerly. Indeed, my own ambition for citizenship--for a right to

participate in the affairs of the nation--was probably no keener than

theirs; and they had an innocent curiosity about the questions of

national politics, of which they had never before been invited to know

anything. They listened almost devoutly.

"Brethren and sisters," a bishop exhorted them at a meeting in which one

of our party was to speak, "we have come to listen to this man, and I

hope we will be guided in all our reflections by the Spirit of God

and that we will do nothing to offend that Spirit. Let there be no

commotion, no whispering, and, above all, no hand clapping."

In a life that had as few diversions as theirs, a political meeting was

an exciting event. The whole family came, and the mothers brought their

babies. Surely in no other American community did politics ever have

such a homely and serious consideration. Certainly no other community

would have so quickly understood the theories of the two parties or

accepted them so implicitly.

But it was all theory! I recognize, now, that I preached a Republicanism

that was an ideal of what it should be, rather than any modern faith

of the "practical politician." I had gathered it from my reading, from

hearing the speeches in Congress, from sympathetic conferences with the

great men who were responsible for the dogmas of the party; and every

assurance of grace that their ability could give and my credulity

accept, I proclaimed religiously as a political salvation to our people.

I built up an ideal, and then judged the party thereafter according to

the measure of that ideal. When I found that some of the charges

against the Republican party were true--charges which I had indignantly

repelled--I was as shocked as any pious worshipper who ever found that

his idol had feet of clay. Our people, having accepted the faith with as

simple a hope as it was offered, were as easily turned from it when they

found that it was false. The political moods of Utah, for its first

few years of statehood, were a puzzle to the "practical" leaders of the

parties; but to us who understood the impulses of honesty that moved the

changes, things were as clear as they were encouraging.

During the previous summer in Washington, I had met General James S.

Clarkson, then president of the National League of Republican Clubs;

and now, on his invitation, in the Spring of 1891, Rich and I went

to Louisville to speak before the national convention of the league.

Through the kindness of General Clarkson, I was given the official

recognition of a perfunctory place on the executive committee of the

league's national committee, and came into touch with many of the party

leaders. It was about this time, I imagine, that they conceived the idea

of using the gratitude of the Mormons in order to carry Utah and the

surrounding states in which the Mormon vote might constitute a balance

of political power. I know that the idea was old and established when

I came upon it, in 1894, during the campaign for statehood. As I also

found, still later, the Republican leaders and the business interests

with which they were in relation, had their eyes on a distant prospect

of fabulous financial schemes in which the secret funds of the Church

were to help in the building of railroads and the promoting of other

enterprises of associated capital. But at the time of which I am

writing, I had not had sufficient experience to suspect the motives of

the men who encouraged our work in Utah; and I accepted in good faith

their public declarations that the sole aim of the party was to serve

the needs of the people of the United States--and therefore of the

people of Utah!

It seemed to me that such a noble principle should win the support of

Mormon and Gentile alike, and it was on this principle that I appealed

for the support of both. I was so sure of winning with it that I

resented and fought against the aid of the Church that came to us as our

campaign succeeded.

The People's Party (the Church Party) had been dissolved (June, 1891)

by the formal action of the executive committee, under the direct

instruction of the leaders of the Church. The tendency was for its

members to organize themselves immediately as a Democratic party.

They were led by such brilliant and trusted defenders of the Church as

Franklin S. Richards, Chas. C. Richards, Wm. H. King, James H. Moyle,

Brigham H. Roberts and Apostle Moses Thatcher; and a group of abler

advocates could not have been found in any state in the Union. It was

against the sentiment of the Mormon people, vivified by such inspiring

Democracy as these men taught, that our little organization of

Republicans had to make headway; and an anxiety began to show

itself among the Church authorities for a less unequal division, and

consequently a greater appearance of political independence, among the

faithful.

Apostle John Henry Smith came out as a Republican stump speaker in

rivalry with Moses Thatcher, the Democratic Prophet. Joseph F. Smith

announced himself a Republican descendant of Whigs. Apostle Francis

Marion Lyman, in his religious ministrations, counselled leading

brethren to withhold themselves from the Democratic party unless they

had gone too far to retreat. Men of ecclesiastical office in various

parts of the territory--who were regarded as being safe in their wisdom

and fidelity--were urged to hold themselves and their influence in

reserve for such use on either side of politics as the future might

demand.

Against this ecclesiastical direction of the people's choice, I objected

again and again to the Presidency, and my objections seemed to meet with

acquiescence. It required no prescience on my part to foresee that the

growing dislike and distrust of Moses Thatcher at Church headquarters

would lead to a strife in the Church that might be carried into our

politics; and I knew how small would be the hope of preserving any

political independence, if once it were involved in the intrigues of

priests and their rivalries for a supremacy of influence among the

people. I was resolved that not even a Church, ruling by "divine

right," should interpose between my country and my franchise; and an

encroachment that I would not permit upon my own freedom, I would not

help to inflict upon others.

The men with whom I had been working proposed me as the candidate for

Congress of the new Utah Republicans; and I was supported by a strong

delegation from my own country and from other parts of the territory;

but I found that I was not "satisfactory" to some of the Mormon leaders,

and in the convention (1892) Apostle John Henry Smith and my cousin

George M. Cannon led in an attempt to nominate Judge Chas. Bennett, a

Gentile lawyer. After a bitter fight of two days and nights, we carried

the convention against them, and I was nominated.

The Democrats selected, as their candidate, one of the strongest

characters in the territory, Joseph L. Rawlins. He was the son of a

Mormon bishop, but he had left the Church immediately upon reaching

manhood. He was a great lawyer, a staunch Democrat, and wonderfully

popular. There followed one of the swiftest and most exciting campaigns

ever seen in Utah. The whole people rose to it with enthusiasm. Our

party chairman, Chas. Crane, had a genius for organization; our speakers

drew crowded meetings; and though charges of Church influence were

made by both sides, the question of religion was no longer the one that

divided Utah.

We were getting on famously, when an incident occurred that was at once

disastrous and salutary. While I was away from headquarters, stumping

the districts, Chairman Crane (who was a Gentile), Ben Rich and Joseph

F. Smith, issued a pamphlet in Republican behalf called "Nuggets of

Truth." It gave a picture of Joseph Smith, the original Prophet, on

the first page and a picture of me on the last one. (They issued also

a certificate, obtained by Joseph F. Smith and given out by him, that

I was a Mormon "in good standing.") As soon as I heard of the matter,

I wired Chairman Crane that unless the pamphlet were immediately

withdrawn, I should return to Salt Lake City and publicly denounce such

methods. It was withdrawn, but the damage was done, I was defeated, as

I deserved to be--though I was the innocent victim of the atrocity--and

Mr. Rawlins was elected.

The campaign proved, however, that if the Church leaders would only

keep their hands off, there was ample strength in either party to make

a presentation of national issues of sufficient appeal to divide the

people on party lines; and it was evident that the people would choose

the party that made the best showing of principles and candidates.

"Nuggets of Truth" left us with a nasty sense that at no hour were we

assured of safety from ecclesiastical interference--or the nefarious

attempt to make an appearance of such interference--in our political

affairs. But the disaster that followed, in this instance, was so prompt

that we could hope it would prove a lesson.

Most important of all, the campaign had made it evident that there

was now no political mission in Utah for the Liberal (the Gentile)

party--assuming that the retirement of the Mormon priests from politics

was sincere and permanent. Accordingly, the organization formally met

some months later, and formally dissolved; and, by that act, the

last great obstacle to united progress was removed from our road to

statehood, and the men who removed it acted with a generosity that

makes one of the noblest records of self-sacrifice in the history of the

state.

They could foresee that their dissolution as a separate force meant

statehood for Utah--a sovereignty in itself that would leave the

Gentiles in the minority and without any appeal to the nation. Under

territorial conditions, although the non-Mormons were less than

one-third of the population, they had two-thirds of the political power.

They held all the Federal offices, including executive and judicial

positions. They had the Governor, with an absolute veto over the acts

of the Mormon legislature. They had the President and Congress who could

annul any statute of the territory; and they had with them almost the

entire sentiment of the nation. It was in their power to have protracted

the Mormon controversy, and to have withstood the appeal for statehood,

to this day.

They yielded everything; they accepted, in return, only the good faith

of the Mormons. Was it within the capacity of any human mind to foresee

that in return for such generosity the Church would ever give over its

tabernacles to teaching its people to hold in detestation the very,

names of these men who saved us? Was it to be suspected that the

political power surrendered by them would ever be used as a persecution

upon them?--that the liberty, given by them to us, would ever afterward

be denied them by us? It was inconceivable. Neither in the magnanimity

of their minds nor in the gratitude of ours was there a suspicion of

such a catastrophe.

During 1891, President Woodruff's manifesto had been ratified in local

Church conferences in every "stake of Zion;" and a second General

Conference had endorsed it in October of that year. President Woodruff,

Councillor Joseph F. Smith and Apostle Lorenzo Snow went before the

Federal Master in Chancery--in a proceeding to regain possession of

escheated Church property--and swore that the manifesto had prohibited

plural marriages, that it required a cessation of all plural marriage

living, and that it was being obeyed by the Mormon people. These facts

were recited in a petition for amnesty forwarded to President Harrison

in December, 1891, accompanied by signed statements from Chief Justice

Zane, Governor Thomas and other non-Mormons who pledged themselves that

the petitioners were sincere and that if amnesty were granted good faith

would be kept. "Our people are scattered," President Woodruff and his

apostles declared in their petition. "Homes are made desolate. Many are

still imprisoned; others are banished and in hiding. Our hearts bleed

for these. In the past they followed our counsels, and while they are

still afflicted our souls are in sackcloth and ashes.... As shepherds

of a patient and suffering people we ask amnesty for them and pledge our

faith and honor for their future."

At Washington, the Church's attorney, Mr. Franklin S. Richards, and

delegate John T. Caine supported the petition with their avowals of

the sincerity of the Church leaders, the genuineness of our political

division, and the sanctity with which we regarded the promise to obey

the laws. The Utah Commission, a non-Mormon body, favored amnesty in an

official report of September, 1892. And when I went to Washington, in

the winter of 1892-3, the changed attitude of the Federal authorities

toward us was strikingly evident.

President Harrison issued his amnesty proclamation, early in January,

1893, to all persons liable to the penalties of the Edmunds-Tucker Act,

but "on the express condition that they shall in the future faithfully

obey the laws of the United States... and not otherwise." The

proclamation concluded: "Those who fail to avail themselves of the

clemency hereby offered will be vigorously prosecuted." Not a polygamist

in Utah, to my knowledge, declined to take advantage of the mercy, by

refusing the expressly implied pledge.

Meanwhile the campaign had been continued for the return of the

escheated Church property and for the passage of an Enabling Act that

should permit the territory to organize for statehood.

[FOOTNOTE: Statehood seemed still very faraway. There was a

Trans-Mississippi Congress held at Ogden in 1892, and though the

delegates--coming from all the states and territories "west of the

river," were the guests of the people of Utah, so hopeless was our

status in the consideration of mankind that the delegates from the

territories of New Mexico and Arizona would not let our names be joined

to theirs in a resolution for statehood which we wished the committee

on resolutions to propose to the Congress. Governor Prince of New Mexico

replied, to our plea for a share in the resolution, that he did not

intend to damn New Mexico by having her mixed up with Utah. We appealed

to the Congress, and we were saved by a speech made by Thos. M.

Patterson of Colorado, subsequently senator from Colorado, who carried

the day for us. At a recent Trans-Mississippi Congress held in Denver,

I sat with ex-Senator Patterson to hear Mr. Prince still proposing

resolutions in support of statehood for New Mexico. Twenty years later!]

Joseph L. Rawlins, Democratic delegate from Utah, worked valiantly among

the Democrats, and he was assisted by the influence of Mr. Franklin S.

Richards and John T. Caine and others among their old associates in that

party. But, in the very midst of the fight, we were advised that,

unless the Republican leaders would let the Enabling Act go through, the

Democratic leaders would falter in our advocacy.

I had been urged to go to Washington by the Presidency to do what I

might to allay Republican antagonism, and I found that a number of

self-appointed lobbyists (who expected political preferment's and other

rewards from the Church in the event of statehood) had been using the

most amazing arguments in our behalf. For example, they told some of

the "financial Senators" that the Church had fourteen million dollars in

secret funds with which to help build a railroad to the coast as soon

as statehood should be granted. They cited the number of the Church's

adherents in all the states and territories of the Pacific Coast and as

far east as Iowa and Missouri, and predicted that the gratitude of these

people to the Republicans who were helping to free Utah would enable the

Republican party to control a balance of political power in the several

states. They declared positively that plural marriages and plural

marriage living had utterly ceased among the Mormons for all time. And

they made such statements with great particularity to Senator Orville H.

Platt, of Connecticut, who was too wise a man to credit them.

As soon as I returned to Washington, he summoned me to a private

meeting, in his parlor in the Arlington Hotel, and confronted me with

one of the Republican lobbyists who had been soliciting his personal

favor and his almost controlling influence. "Now, Mr. Cannon," he said,

in his dry way, "have the Mormons stopped living with their plural

wives? And will there never be another case of plural marriage among

them?"

I remembered the lesson of my interview with him at the time of the

campaign against the disfranchisement bill, and I answered: "No. Not

all the men of the Church have complied fully with the law. So far as

I know, all the general authorities of the Church--with two or three

exceptions--are fulfilling the covenant they gave; and so far as I can

judge there will never be another plural marriage ceremony with the

consent or connivance of the leaders of the Church. But human nature is

very much the same in Utah as it is in Connecticut. Here and there, no

doubt, a man feels that he's under an obligation to keep his covenant

with his plural wives in preference to the covenant of his accepted

amnesty; and there and here, possibly, in the future, some man will

break the law and defy the orders of the Church and take a plural wife.

But the leaders of the Church do not countenance either proceeding, and

any man who violates the law, in either respect, offends against the

revelations of the Church and, I believe, will be dealt with as an

apostate. I come direct from the Presidency of the Church, and I am

authorized to pledge their word of honor that they will themselves obey

the law and do all in their power as men and leaders to bring their

people into harmony with the institutions of this country as rapidly as

possible."

Senator Platt had slowly unwrapped himself, rising from his chair to his

full height of more than six feet, in a lank and alarming indignation.

"There," he said, striding up and down the room. "That's it! That's just

it. These people have been telling us that you were obeying the law--all

of you--in every instance--and would always obey it. And now you come

here and admit, openly, that some of you, to whom we have granted

amnesty, are breaking your word--and that 'possibly' others, in the

future, will do the same thing!"

"Senator," I pleaded, "what confidence could you have in me if I were to

tell you the Mormons were so superhuman that in a single day they could

eliminate all their human characteristics? I'm asking you to recognize

that the tendency imparted to a whole community is more important

than any one man's breach of the law. Believe me, if you grant us our

statehood, there will never be any lawbreaking sanctioned or protected

by the Church leaders, and just as speedily as possible the entire

system will be brought into harmony with the institutions of the nation.

I'm telling you the truth."

He turned on me to ask, abruptly, how the polygamists had adjusted their

family affairs.

I answered that in nearly all cases within my personal knowledge, the

polygamist had relinquished conjugal relations with his plural wives

with the full acquiescence of them and their children. He supported

them, cared for the children, and in all other ways acted as the

guardian and protector of the household. In a few cases men had gone,

to an extreme. For instance, my uncle, Angus M. Cannon--president of the

Salt Lake "stake of Zion," a man of most decided character--had declared

that he had entered into his marriage relations with his wives under a

covenant that gave them equality in his regards; and in order that he

might not wound the sensibilities of any, he had separated himself from

all.

I reminded Senator Platt that with such examples on the part of the

leaders, there could be no general law-breaking among the Mormons, and

that gradually the polygamous element would accommodate itself to the

demands of law and the commands of God.

He waved us away with a curt announcement that he would have to think

the matter over. If I had not known the essential justice and common

sense under his dry and irascible exterior, I might have been alarmed.

The lobbyist's concern was almost comic. As soon as we were out of

hearing of the Senator's apartment, shaking both fists frantically at

me, he cried: "You've ruined everything! We had him. We had him--all

right--until you came down here and let the cat out of the bag! You knew

what we'd been telling him. Why didn't you stick to it?"

I replied with equal warmth: "You may lie all you please; but if we have

to win Utah's statehood with lies I don't want it. Senator Platt has

been generous to us in our time of need, and I don't intend to deceive

him--or any other man."

As a matter of fact, this was not only common honesty; it was also the

best policy. Senator Platt was, from that time to the day of his death,

a good friend and wise counselor of the people of Utah. And I wish to

lay particular stress upon this conversation with him, because it was

a type of many had with such men as he. Fred T. Dubois, delegate in

Congress from the territory of Idaho and subsequently Senator from that

state, had been perhaps the strongest single opponent, in Washington, of

the Mormon Church; he took our promises of honor, as Senator Platt did,

and he pacified Senator Cullom, Senator Pettigrew and many others among

our antagonists, who afterwards told me that they had accepted the

pledges given by Senator Dubois in our behalf.

They recognized that the Church and the community ought not to be

held responsible for a few possible cases of individual resistance or

offense, so long as there should be a strict adherence by the Church and

its leaders to their personal and community covenant. I emphasize the

nature of this generous appreciation of our difficulties, because

the present-day polygamists in Utah claim that there was a "tacit

understanding," between the statesmen in Washington and the agents

of the Church, to the effect that the polygamists of that time might

continue to live with their plural wives. This is not true. There never

was any such understanding, to my knowledge. And there could not have

been one, in the circumstances, without my knowledge. For though I

did not know what delegate Rawlins, and former delegate Caine, and our

attorney, Mr. Richards, were saying in their private interviews with

senators and congressmen, I know that in all the frequent conversations

I had with them I never heard an intimation of any "tacit understanding"

beyond the one which I have defined.

For my part I was more than eager to have all our political disabilities

removed, the Church property restored, and the right of statehood

accorded--believing implicitly in the sincerity of the Mormon leaders. I

knew President Woodruff too well to doubt the pellacid character of his

mind and purpose. I knew from my father's personal assurance--and from

his constant practice from that time to the day of his death--that he

was acting in good faith. I knew that the community was gladly following

where these men led. I saw no slightest indication that any reactionary

policy was likely to be entered upon in Utah, or that our people would

accept it if it were.

The Church's personal property was restored by an Act of Congress

approved October 25, 1893, but it was stipulated in the Act that the

money was not to be used for the support of any church buildings in

which "the rightfulness of the practice of polygamy" should be taught.

Similarly, when the Enabling Act was approved, in July 16, 1894,

it, too, provided that "polygamous or plural marriage" was forever

prohibited. A constitutional convention was held at Salt Lake City under

the provisions of that act, and a constitution was adopted in which

it was provided that "polygamous or plural marriages" were forever

prohibited, that the territorial laws against polygamy were to be

continued in force, that there should be "no union of church and state,"

and that no church should "dominate the state or interfere with its

functions." Upon no other basis would the nation have granted us our

statehood; and we accepted the grant, knowing the expressed condition

involved in that acceptance.

But there was one other gift that came to us from the nation--by

Congressional enactment and later by Utah statute as a consequence of

statehood; and that gift was the legitimizing of every child born

of plural marriage before January, 1896. The solemn benignity of the

concession touched me, as it must have touched many, to the very heart

of gratitude. By it, ten thousand children were taken from the outer

darkness of this world's conventional exclusion and placed within

the honored relations of mankind. It was a tribute to the purity

and sincerity of the Mormon women who had borne the cross of plural

marriage, believing that God had commanded their suffering. It

recognized the holy nature and honorable intent of the marriages

of these women, by according their children every right of legal

inheritance from their fathers. If all other covenants could be

forgotten and their proof obliterated, this should remain as Utah's

pledge of honor--sacred for the sake of the Mormon mothers, holy in the

name of the uplifted child.

Under the Prophet in Utah; the National Menace of a Political Priestcraft · 第 5 / 20 章