JOURNEY TO SALT LAKE CITY
Dr. A. J. Oliver had been running a letter express between Bannack and
Salt Lake City during the year, and early in the autumn had substituted
for a single saddle horse and pack-animal, a small lumber wagon, with
conveniences for the transportation of a few passengers. It was at best,
a very precarious mode of conveyance; but as it was the only public one,
it was always full. Mr. Samuel T. Hauser (afterwards appointed Governor
of Montana by President Cleveland) and I had been for some time
contemplating a trip to the States, and being now ready, I left Virginia
City for Bannack, expecting to find the express on my arrival, and make
arrangements for our passage to Salt Lake City on its return trip. The
day before I left, one Ed French had shot at me. The bullet slightly
grazed an eyeball, doing no further damage than that of shaking the eye
in its socket, and inflicting considerable pain. I contracted a severe
cold on the ride to Bannack, which settled in the eye, producing
inflammation and temporary blindness. For two weeks I shut myself in a
dark room, ulceration in the meantime bringing relief and restoring
sight.
While thus confined, friends occasionally called upon me, and one day I
was informed that Ned Ray was in town, and had been making particular
inquiries after me. The next day I was told that Buck Stinson was there
on the same errand. When I left Virginia City, both of these ruffians
were at that place. I was convinced that they had left there to pursue
me on the road to Salt Lake City. Ray was observed to watch my
boarding-house, on repeated occasions, very closely.
Upon applying to Mr. Oliver for transportation, that gentleman informed
me that snow was falling on the Pleasant Valley divide, and that he
should abandon the wagon and return to Salt Lake City with a pack-mule.
Disappointed in my expectation of finding a conveyance, I wrote to Mr.
Hauser, who came over immediately.
Messrs. Dance and Stuart, wholesale merchants of Virginia City, had
arranged to send by us to their creditors at St. Louis, fourteen
thousand dollars in gold dust. It was contained in a buckskin sack, and
sealed. Clubfoot George, whose honesty none of us suspected, had heard
us hold frequent discussions in the store of Dance and Stuart, as to the
chances of safely getting through with it to the States.
Hauser was somewhat surprised on entering the coach at Virginia City, to
find that he had Plummer for a fellow passenger. Believing, upon
reflection, that Plummer was going to Bannack to plan means for robbing
him, he resolved to act as if he had the most implicit confidence in his
integrity. He accordingly made no effort to hide the sack from view, or
conceal the fact that he was going to the States; talked freely and
confidentially, and seemed entirely at ease in Plummer’s society. The
trip was made in safety, though Hauser confessed that while passing
through Rattlesnake Cañon, he did not forget the unenviable notoriety
which frequent robberies had gained for it. When the coach drove up to
Goodrich’s hotel in Bannack, he felt greatly relieved, and with the sack
of gold enveloped in the several folds of his blankets, entered the
sitting-room, where he was met by some old friends, and, as was
customary in those days, congratulated on his safe arrival. In a few
moments he drew forth the sack, and in the presence of Judge Edgerton
and several other leading citizens, turned to Plummer who was standing
near, and thus carelessly addressed him:
[Illustration:
SAMUEL T. HAUSER
_Ex-Governor of Montana_
]
“Plummer, I hear that any man who has money isn’t safe in this town
over-night. I’ve got fourteen thousand dollars in this bag, which I’m
going to take to the States with me when I go, and I want you, as
sheriff, to keep it for me till I start.”
Plummer took the gold, with a promise for its safe return, which he
fulfilled; depositing it for safekeeping in George Crisman’s store.
Hauser’s friends expressed to him privately their surprise that he
should intrust so large an amount to a man of such doubtful reputation.
“Why?” replied he, laughing: “do you think he’ll keep it?”
“I should be afraid of it,” said one, “especially if he’s the man many
represent him to be.”
“Suppose he should,” said Hauser. “You and half a dozen other good
citizens saw him take it, and heard him promise that it should be safely
returned. He knows, as well as I do, that if he fails to keep this
promise, or through any pretence attempts to appropriate the gold, it
will go hard with him; whereas, if I should attempt to keep it, he, with
others of the roughs knowing that I had it, would kill me if necessary
to obtain it. The gold is safer where it is; and while there, is a
security for my life.”
This was a bold piece of strategy on the part of Hauser, evincing an
intuitive insight into the character of Plummer; but not one man in a
hundred similarly situated would have thought of adopting it. If Plummer
had entertained an idea that Hauser suspected his motives in
accompanying him to Bannack, this act of gratuitous confidence must have
allayed it at once.
Hauser and I engaged a passage to Salt Lake City of one of a company of
eight Mormon freighters, who were to leave Bannack at noon on the
fourteenth of November. We did not wish to leave until seven o’clock in
the evening; and the man, impatient of any delay beyond the departure of
his companions, finally agreed, for an extra ten dollars paid in
advance, to wait for us until five o’clock P.M. If we were not ready
then, he would retain the ten dollars, and leave town without us, so as
to overtake the other teams, which were to camp that night at Horse
Prairie, twelve miles distant. These arrangements were made in George
Crisman’s store where Plummer had an office, and in the hearing of one
of his deputies, who immediately communicated the information to his
chief.
Early in the forenoon Plummer called upon Hauser and presented him with
a woollen scarf of a bright scarlet color, saying, “You will find it
useful these cold nights.” A few hours afterwards, a report was
circulated of the discovery of a silver lode in the vicinity of
Rattlesnake. The person bringing in this intelligence, requested
Plummer, who from his experience in Nevada was supposed to be a good
judge of the quality of silver ore, to go immediately and examine it. He
left early in the afternoon on the Rattlesnake road, but as soon as he
was beyond observation, turned southward toward Horse Prairie. Col.
Wilbur F. Sanders, who soon followed in the direction of Rattlesnake,
returned the next day with the intelligence that he had been unable to
trace him. The circumstance of Plummer’s departure, and the presence in
town of Stinson and Ray, so wrought upon the fears of our friends for
our safety, that it was not without much persuasion that they would
permit us to undertake the journey. We were satisfied, however, that, go
when we might, we should have to incur the same risk. As a precautionary
measure, I carefully cleaned my gun, and loaded each barrel with twelve
revolver balls. George Dart, a friend, observing this, asked why I was
filling my gun so full of lead. I replied that we were fearful of an
attack, and that the indications were that it would be made that night,
if at all. Some of our friends endeavored to persuade us to defer our
journey till a more favorable time. This we would have done had we not
believed that the risk would have to be incurred whenever we took our
departure. At the hour of five we were not ready, but the Mormon
teamster was prevailed upon to wait for us two hours longer.
Just after seven o’clock, and as we were putting the provisions which we
had prepared for our journey into the wagon, Henry Tilden, a member of
the household of Sidney Edgerton, then Chief Justice of Idaho, came in
with the report that he had been robbed about midway on his ride from
Horse Prairie, by three men, one of whom he thought was Plummer. This
created much excitement; and if our friends had not supposed that we had
already left town, we would probably have been forcibly detained.
Either our failure to appear at the time at which our appointment to
leave at five o’clock justified him in expecting us, or the belief that
Tilden had circulated the news of his robbery, and thereby delayed our
departure, caused Plummer to return by a circuitous route to town. He
inquired for me at my boarding-house, and being told that both Hauser
and I had gone, left town immediately in hot pursuit.
In the wagon with us was one Charles Whitehead, a gambler, who had made
arrangements with another of the Mormon teamsters for conveyance to Salt
Lake City; but having some business to detain him in town, he availed
himself of the circumstance of our late departure, to give it attention.
I had frequently seen him in town, but knew nothing about him, save that
he was a professional gambler. He might, I thought, belong to the gang
and be in some way connected with their present enterprise, and we kept
a close watch upon his movements. We rode with our guns double-charged
and cocked, lying upon our laps. It was after eleven o’clock when we
reached the camp of the advance party. The night was clear and cold; the
atmosphere crisp with frost. Whitehead, who had sent his blankets
forward by the other teams, found that they had been appropriated by one
of the teamsters, who had concluded that we had delayed our departure
from town till the following morning. As he was in delicate health, I
give him my place with Hauser in the wagon, and taking a buffalo robe,
stretched myself upon the ground beside the wagon.
I could not sleep for the cold, and about three o’clock in the morning,
thoroughly chilled, I arose, took my gun in my hand, and walked briskly
back and forth before the camp. Finding that this exercise did not
greatly increase my comfort, I went down to the bank of the creek thirty
yards distant and commenced gathering dry willows to make a fire. While
thus employed I strayed down the stream about twenty rods from the camp.
Suddenly I heard a confused murmur of voices, which at first I thought
came from the camp, but, while walking towards it, found that it was
from a different direction. Curiosity now overcame all thought of cold.
I dropped the armful of sticks I had gathered, and carefully
disentangling the little copse of willows which sheltered me from view,
peered through, and saw in the dim moonlight three footmen approaching
on the other side of the stream. The thought struck me that they might
be campers in search of horses or mules that had strayed. I walked
noiselessly down the stream, to a point where I could obtain through a
vista an unobstructed view, my trusty gun held firmly in the hollow of
my hand. The three men approached the opening through which I was
gazing, and I now discovered that their features were concealed by
loosely flowing masks. I no longer doubted their identity or purpose.
Some little noise that I made attracted their attention to the spot
where I was standing. They saw me, and, perceiving that I had recognized
them, changed their course, and disappeared beyond a clump of willows.
My first impulse was now to return to camp, and arouse the men, but I
concluded not to do so unless it became necessary. One of the Mormons,
as I passed by him, roused himself sufficiently to ask me why I was up
so early. I replied that I was watching for prowlers. In a few moments I
returned to the bank of the creek, and followed it down thirty or forty
rods, till I came to a ripple where the water was not more than six
inches deep. Stepping into the stream, I waded noiselessly across. The
opposite bank was about two feet high, and covered with a willow thicket
thirty feet in width. Through this I crawled to the opening beyond,
where was the moist bed of a former stream, its banks lined with
willows; and in this half-enclosed semicircle, not fifty feet distant
from where I was lying, stood four masked men. One of them had been
holding the horses—four in number—while the others were taking
observations of our camp. After a brief consultation, they hurriedly
mounted their horses, and rode rapidly off towards Bannack. These men we
afterwards ascertained were Plummer, Stinson, Ray, and Ives. The
fortunate change in my lodgings, and the coldness of the weather, and
consequent sleeplessness, saved us from an attack whose consequences may
be better imagined than described. We made the journey to Salt Lake City
in safety; but from the frequent inquiries made of us while there,
concerning others who had attempted it before us, we concluded that many
had fallen victims who left the mines with better prospects of escape
than those which encouraged us. It was the common custom of Mormon
freighters to extend their day’s journeying far into the evening.
Plummer was cognizant of this fact, and there can be no doubt that his
purpose in presenting Hauser with the scarf was, that he might single
him out from the rest of the party after nightfall. It is a coincidence
that Plummer was hanged on the succeeding anniversary of Hauser’s
birthday, January 10, 1864.
Our trip of fifteen days, with the thermometer ranging from zero to
twenty degrees below, was not unrelieved by occasional incidents which
we recall with pleasure. Among these, of course, we cannot include the
cold nights we were obliged to pass upon the frozen earth. But we found
an inexhaustible store of amusement, not unmingled with admiration, in
the character of our Mormon conductors. Simple-hearted, affable, and
unsophisticated, with bigot faith in their creed, studious observance of
its requirements, and constant reliance upon it both for assistance in
difficulty and pastime, they afforded in all their actions a singular
contrast as well to the unregenerate Gentiles, as to the believers among
older sects. They were not only sincere in their belief, they were
enthusiastic. It was the single element which governed their lives: they
idolized it, and neither reason, which they at once rejected, nor
ridicule, which they silently abhorred, could shake their religious
credulity. We engaged in frequent discussions with them, prolonging the
evening camp-fire sittings with arguments which broke like the waves of
a summer sea upon the rock of simple faith. Theology with them was
restricted to the revelations of Joseph Smith, and the counsels of
Brigham Young. These contained the precious elements of their belief.
While passing over one of the divides, I recited to Hauser with such
marked emphasis as I could command, Milton’s description of “the meeting
of Satan and Death at the gates of Hell.” The stirring passage
immediately absorbed the attention of our Mormon driver. The serious
cast of his features during the recitation attracted our attention; and
soon after we had camped for the night, while supper was in the course
of preparation, he was heard to remark to a brother teamster,
“I tell you, the youngest of those men in my wagon, the one that always
carries that double-barrelled shotgun, is a powerful talker. I heard him
harangue t’other one to-day for half an hour, and he talked mighty fine.
He can overlay Orson Hyde and Parley Pratt, both, and I rather think it
would trouble Brigham Young to say nicer things. And after all, he had
pretty much the same ideas that we have.” Evidently, the man had
regarded the recitation and its delivery as an impromptu exercise.
When the labor of the day was over, and they were seated around the
evening camp-fire, their thoughts were engrossed with matters
appertaining to their religion. Temporal cares were seemingly forgotten.
Fully instructed in the doctrinal points of their faith, they readily
met and disposed of our arguments upon principles familiar to all
Christian denominations. The golden plates of the book of Mormon, the
inspirational powers of Joseph Smith, the transforming virtues of the
Urim and Thummim, were as sacred in their creed as the miracles of the
Saviour. No argument could shake their confidence in Brigham Young, whom
they regarded as the vicegerent of the Almighty himself. This belief was
sanctified by an immutable promise, that the time would come when the
Mormon religion would embrace the whole family of man. When we spoke
lightly of these things, or expressed doubt concerning them, they
reproved us kindly, and expressed their regret at our stubbornness and
impiety. These discussions, which were frequent, and indulged in more
for pastime than instruction, convinced us of the sincerity of the
Mormons as a people. They believe with enthusiasm too, and among them
may doubtless be found many who would suffer martyrdom as readily as did
Ridley and Latimer, for the precious promises of their faith. Often when
not occupied in discussion, they would all join in singing a religious
hymn. A verse from the one which most frequently taxed their vocal
powers, I well remember:
“Brigham Young is the Lion of the Lord.
He’s the Prophet and revealer of his word.
He’s the mouth-piece of God unto all mankind,
And he rules by the power of the Word.”
Sometimes they would unite in a household song—the leader, representing
the head of the family, commencing,
“The Mormon man delights to see
His Mormon family all agree;
His prattling infant on his knee,
Crying, ‘Daddy, I’m a Mormon.’”
Then all would join in the chorus, as the representatives of the female
part of the household,
“Hey, the happy! Ho, the happy!
Hi, the happy Mormon!
I’ve never known what sorrow is,
Since I became a Mormon,”
occasionally varying it thus,
“Hey, the happy! Ho, the happy!
Hi, the happy Mormon!
I never knew what joy was,
Till I became a Mormon”
—the word “joy” being divided in the singing to “jaw-wy,” to accommodate
the metre.
On the evening of the day before we entered the Mormon settlements, the
leading man of the company beckoned me aside, and referred to our trip
down, which he said had been a pleasant one.
“We have had,” said he, “some warm discussions about our religion, and
you gentlemen, as our boys think, have been rather hard on us. But the
journey is now about over, and we’ll not mind it. I sought this
opportunity, however, to give you a word of caution, for I feel friendly
to you. While you are at Salt Lake City you mustn’t talk as you have to
us.”
“Why?” I inquired.
“Because they don’t allow it. Were you ever at Salt Lake City?”
“No.”
“Well, you’ll find out when you get there how it is. They are very
severe upon people who talk as you have talked to us. Should you do it,
you may be assured you’ll never leave the city alive. I thought I’d put
you on your guard.” As he left me, he added,
“Don’t say a word to the boys about what I’ve told you, but keep an eye
to your conduct. If the bishop knew I had told you this, it would go
hard with me.”
Thanking him for the advice, we soon after separated; and on our arrival
at Salt Lake City, a day or two afterwards, in conversation with a
leading Mormon with whom we had business, we told him of the advice we
had received, without committing our friend by name.
“That was good advice,” he replied, with a significant nod, “and if
adhered to will keep you out of trouble.”