Cumming, who had been appointed by the President of the United States
to assume the supreme executive authority at Great Salt Lake City. The
conditions were that polygamy should not be interfered with, nor
forcible measures resorted to, except in extremest need. Governor
Cumming, accompanied by his wife, with an escort of six hundred
dragoons, entered the city in the spring of 1858, shortly after the
Mormons were in open rebellion against the Federal authority. By
firmness, prudence, and conciliation, he not only prevented any
collision between the local militia and the United States army, but
succeeded in restoring order and obedience throughout the territory.
He was told that his life was in danger, and warned that he might
share the fate of Governor Boggs, who was shot through the mouth when
standing at the window. His answer was to enlarge the casements of his
house, in order to give the shooters a fair chance. The impartiality
which he brought to bear in the discharge of his difficult and
delicate duties, and his resolution to treat the saints like Gentiles
and citizens, not as Digger Indians or felons, had not, when I was at
Great Salt Lake City, won him the credit which he deserved from either
party. The anti-Mormons abused him, and declared him to be a Mormon in
Christian disguise; the Mormons, though more moderate, could never, by
their very organisation, be content with a temporal and extraneous
power existing side by side with a spiritual power. Governor Cumming
did not meet his predecessor, the ex-Governor, Brigham Young, except
on public duty. Mrs. Cumming visited Mrs. Young and the houses of the
principal dignitaries, this being the only society in the place.
Amongst the Moslems a Lady Mary Wortley Montagu could learn more of
domestic life in a week than a man could in a year. So it was among
the Mormons, and Mrs. Cumming’s knowledge far exceeded all that I
might ever hope to gain.
The leading feature of Great Salt Lake City was Main, otherwise
Whiskey, Street. This broadway was 132 feet wide, including twenty
sidewalks, and, like the rest of the principal avenues, was planted
with locust and other trees. The whole city was divided up into wide
streets, and planted with trees. The stores were far superior to the
shops of an English country town; the public buildings were few and
unimposing. I was disappointed with the Temple block, the only place
of public and general worship in the city; when I was there it was
unfinished, a mere waste. The Tabernacle, the principal building,
required enlarging, and was quite unfitted for the temple of a new
faith. It seemed hardly in accordance with the energy and devotedness
of this new religion that such a building should represent the House
of the Lord, while Mr. Brigham Young, the Prophet, thinking of his own
comfort before the glory of God, was lodged, like Solomon of old, in
what was comparatively a palace. Near the Tabernacle was the Endowment
House, or place of great medicine. Many rites took place here in
secret that were carefully concealed from Gentile eyes, and with a
result that human sacrifices were said to be performed within its
walls. Personally, I did not believe in these orgies; there were
probably ceremonies of the nature of masonic rites. Gentiles declared
that the ceremonies consisted of a sort of miracle play, and a
respectable judge was popularly known as “The Devil,” because he was
supposed to play the part of the Father of Sin when tempting Adam and
Eve. It was said that baptism by total immersion was performed, and
the ceremony occupied eleven or twelve hours, the neophyte, after
bathing, being anointed with oil, and dressed in clean white garments,
cap and shirt, of which the latter was rarely removed.
On the Monday after my arrival a smoke-like column towards the east
announced that the emigrants were crossing the bench-land, and the
people hurried from all sides to greet them. Of course, I went, too,
as the arrival of these emigrants, or rather prilgrims, was one of the
sights of the City of the Saints. Presently the carts came. All the
new arrivals were in clean clothes, the men washed and shaved, and the
girls were singing hymns, habited in Sunday dress. Except the very
young and the very old, the company of pilgrims did not trouble the
waggons. They marched through clouds of dust over the sandy road
leading to the town, accompanied by crowds, some on foot, others on
horseback, and a few in traps. A score of youths of rather rowdy
appearance were mounted in all the tawdriness of Western
trappings――Rocky Mountain hats, embroidered buckskin garments, red
flannel shirts, gigantic spurs, pistols and knives stuck in red sashes
with depending ends. By-and-by the train of pilgrims reached the
public square, and here, before the invasion of the Federal army, the
first President used to make a point of honouring the arrival of
pilgrims by a greeting in person. Not so on this occasion; indeed, it
was whispered that Brigham Young seldom left his house except for the
Tabernacle, and, despite his powerful will and high moral courage, did
not show the personal intrepidity of Mr. Joseph Smith. He had guards
at his gates, and never appeared in public unattended by friends and
followers, who were, of course, armed. On this occasion the place of
Mr. Brigham Young was taken by President-Bishop Hunter. Preceded by a
brass band, and accompanied by the City Marshal, the Bishop stood up
in his conveyance, and calling up the captains of companies, shook
hands with them, and proceeded forthwith to business. In a short time
arrangements were made for the housing and employment of all who
required work, whether men or women. Everything was conducted with
decorum.
I mingled freely among the crowd, and was introduced to many, whose
names I did not remember. Indeed, the nomenclature of the Mormons was
apt to be rather confusing, because, in order to distinguish children
of different mothers, it was usual to prefix the maternal to the
paternal parents’ name, suppressing the Christian name altogether.
Thus, for instance, my sons, if I had any, by Miss Brown and Miss
Jones and Miss Robinson respectively, would call themselves Brother
Brown-Burton, Brother Jones-Burton, and Brother Robinson-Burton. The
saints, even the highest dignitaries, waive the reverend and the
ridiculous esquire, that “title much in use among vulgar people.” The
Mormon pontiff and the eminences around him are simply brother or
mister. _En revanche_, amongst the crowd there are as many colonels
and majors, about ten being the proportion to one captain, as in the
days when Mrs. Trollope set the Mississippi on fire. Sister is applied
to women of all ages, whether married or single.
Many of the pilgrims were English, who had crossed over the plains,
looking towards Mr. Brigham Young and Great Salt Lake City much as
Roman Catholics regard the Pope and Rome. The arrangements for their
convoy appeared to have been admirable, but many tales were told of
mismangement. An old but favourite illustration of the trials of
inexperienced travellers from the Mississippi to California was as
follows. A man rode up to a standing waggon, and seeing a
wretched-looking lad nursing a starving baby, asked him what the
matter might be: “Wal now,” responded the youth, “guess I’m kinder
streakt――ole dad’s drunk, ole marm’s in hy-sterics, brother Jim be
playing poker with two gamblers, sister Sal’s down yonder a-courtin’
with an in-tire stranger, this ’ere baby’s got the diaree, the team’s
clean guv out, the waggon’s broke down, it’s twenty miles to the next
water. I don’t care a damn if I never see Californy!”
The dress of the fair sex in Great Salt Lake City was somewhat
peculiar. The article called in Cornwall a “gowk,” in other parts of
England a “cottage bonnet,” was universally used, plus a long, thick
veil behind, which acts as a cape or shawl. A loose jacket and a
petticoat, mostly of calico or some inexpensive stuff, made up all
that was visible. The wealthier ladies affected silks, especially
black. Love of dress, however, was as great among the sisters as in
women in any other part of the world; in fact, I noticed that this
essential is everywhere a pleasing foible, and the semi-nude savage,
the crinolined “civilisee,” the nun and the quakeress, the sinner and
the saint, the _biche_ and the _grande dame_, all meet for once in
their lives pretty much on a par and on the same ground.
The sisters of Great Salt Lake City――at least, the native ones――were
distinctly good-looking, with regular features, lofty brow, clear
complexion, long, silky hair, and a bewitching soft smile. It would
seem that polygamy had agreed with them. The belle of the city, so far
as I could see, was a Miss Sally A――――, daughter of a judge. Strict
Mormons, however, rather wagged their heads at this pretty person. She
was supposed to prefer Gentile and heathenish society, and it was
whispered against her that she had actually vowed never to marry a
saint.
The City of the Saints was not a dull city. In addition to the
spiritual exercises, provision was also made for physical pastimes.
The Social Hall was the usual scene of Mormon festivities, and here
one could see the beauty and fashion of Great Salt Lake City _en
grande tenue_. Good amateur acting took place here, and dancing seemed
to be considered a most edifying exercise. The Prophet danced, the
apostles danced, the bishops danced, the young and the old danced.
There is high authority for perseverance in this practice: David
danced, we are told, with all his might; and Scipio, according to
Seneca, was wont thus to exercise his heroic limbs. The balls at the
Social Hall were highly select, and conducted on an expensive scale;
ten-dollar tickets admitted one lady with one gentleman, and for all
extra ladies two dollars each had to be paid. Space was limited, and
many a Jacob was shorn of his glory by having to appear with only
Rachael in his train, and without a following of Leahs, Zilpahs, and
Bilhahs.
An account of one of these balls might be of interest. The hall was
tastefully decorated. At four o’clock in the afternoon the Prophet
entered, and order was called. He ascended a kind of platform, and,
with uplifted hands, blessed those present. He then descended to the
boards and led off the first cotillon. At 8 p.m. supper was served;
dancing was resumed with spirit; and finally the party ended as it
began, with prayer and benediction, about five o’clock in the
morning――thirteen successive mortal hours. I may mention that, in
order to balance any disparity of the sexes, each gentleman was
allowed to lead out two ladies and dance with them, either together or
alternately. What an advantage this would be in many a London
ball-room!
I will now proceed to describe my visit to the President, or Prophet,
Brigham Young. Governor Cumming had first written to ask if he would
give me the honour of an interview; and, having received a gracious
reply, I proceeded with him to call upon the Prophet on August 31st,
at 11 a.m., as appointed. We arrived at the house, and, after a slight
scrutiny, passed the guard, and, walking down the verandah, entered
the Prophet’s private office. Several people who were sitting there
rose at Governor Cumming’s entrance. At a few words of introduction,
Brigham Young advanced, shook hands with me, and invited me to be
seated on a sofa on one side of the room, and presented me to those
present.
The “President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints all
over the World” was born at Whittingham, Vermont, on June 1st, 1801.
He was, consequently, at the time I saw him, in 1860, fifty-nine years
old; he looked about forty-five. I had expected to see a
venerable-looking old man; but scarcely a grey thread appeared in his
hair, which was parted on the side, light-coloured, and rather thick.
His forehead was somewhat narrow, the eyebrows thin, the eyes between
grey and blue, with a calm and somewhat reserved expression. A slight
droop in the left lid made me think he had suffered from paralysis; I
afterwards heard it was the result of a neuralgia, which long
tormented him. The nose, which was fine and somewhat pointed, was bent
a little to the left; the lips were like the New Englander’s, and the
teeth were imperfect. The cheeks were rather fleshy, the chin somewhat
peaked, and face clean-shaven, except under the jaws, where the beard
was allowed to grow. The hands were well-made, and the figure was
somewhat large and broad-shouldered.
The Prophet’s dress was neat and plain as a Quaker’s, of grey
homespun, except the cravat and waistcoat. His coat was of antique cut
and, like the pantaloons, baggy, and the buttons were black. A necktie
of dark silk, with a large bow, was passed round a starchless collar.
He wore a black satin waistcoat, and plain gold chain. Altogether, the
Prophet’s appearance was that of a gentleman farmer in New England.
His manner was affable and impressive, and distinctly unpretentious.
He showed no signs of dogmatism or bigotry, and never once entered,
with me at least, on the subject of religion. He impressed me with a
certain sense of power. It was commonly said there was only one chief
in Great Salt Lake City, and that was “Brigham.” His temper was even,
and his manner cold; in fact, like his face, somewhat bloodless. He
had great powers of observation and judgment of character; if he
disliked a stranger at the first interview, he never saw him again. He
lived a most temperate and sober life, his favourite food being baked
potatoes, with a little buttermilk, and his drink water; he
disapproved, like all strict Mormons, of spirituous liquors, and never
touched anything stronger than a glass of lager beer, and never smoked
tobacco. His followers deemed him an angel of light, his foes a fiend
damned; he was, I presume, neither one nor the other. He has been
called a hypocrite, swindler, forger, and murderer; no one looked it
less. In fact, he was the St. Paul of the New Dispensation; he gave
point, energy, and consistency to the disjointed and turbulent
fanaticism of Mr. Joseph Smith; and if he was not able to create, he
was at least able to control circumstances.
Such was His Excellency, President Brigham Young, “painter and
glazier”――his earliest craft――prophet, revelator, translator, and
seer; the man who was revered as no king or kaiser, pope or pontiff,
ever was; who, like the Old Man of the Mountain, by holding up his
hand could cause the death of any one within his reach; who, governing
as well as reigning, long stood up to fight with the sword of the
Lord, and with his few hundred guerillas, against the mighty power of
the United States; who outwitted all diplomacy opposed to him; and,
finally, made a treaty of peace with the President of the great
Republic as though he had wielded the combined power of France,
Russia, and England.
The Prophet’s private office, where he was in the habit of transacting
the greater part of his business, correcting his sermons, and
conducting his correspondence, was a plain, neat room, with a large
writing-table and money-safe. I remarked a pistol and rifle hung
within easy reach on the right-hand wall. There was a look of order
which suited the character of the man, and his style of doing business
was to issue distinct directions to his employés, after which he
disliked referring to the subject. He had the reputation of being a
wealthy man, though he began life as a poor one; and, so far as I
could see, he had made his money, not by enriching himself by the
tithes and plunder of his followers, but in business and by hard work.
After the first few words of greeting, I interpreted the Prophet’s
look to mean that he would like to know my object in coming to the
City of the Saints. I told him that, having read and heard much about
Utah as it was said to be, I was anxious to see Utah as it was. He
then touched upon agricultural and other subjects; but we carefully
avoided anything to do with religion or his domestic peculiarities, on
which, I was warned, he disliked to be questioned. After talking for
about half an hour, the conversation began to flag, so we rose up,
shook hands all round, as was the custom there, and took our leave.
The first impression left upon my mind, and subsequently confirmed,
was that the Prophet was no common man, and that he had none of the
weakness and vanity which characterise the common uncommon man. I also
remarked the veneration shown to him by his followers, whose affection
for him was equalled only by the confidence with which they entrusted
to him their dearest interests in this world and in the next. After my
visit many congratulated me, as would the followers of Tien Wong, or
Heavenly King, upon having at last seen the most remarkable man in the
world.
The Prophet’s block was surrounded by a high wall and strengthened
with semi-circular buttresses; it consisted of many houses. The Lion
House was occupied by Mrs. Young and her family in the eastern part of
the square. On the west of it lay the private office, in which we were
received, and further west again was the public office, where the
church and other business was transacted. Beyond this was the Bee
House, so named from the sculptured bee-hive in front of it. The Bee
House was a large building with long walls facing east and west. It
was tenanted by the Prophet’s “plurality wives” and their families,
who each had a bedroom, sitting-room, and closet, simply and similarly
furnished. There was a Moslem air of retirement about the Bee House;
the face of woman was rarely seen at the window, and her voice was
never heard without. Anti-Mormons declared the Bee House to be like
the State prison of Auburn, a self-supporting establishment, for not
even the wives of the Prophet were allowed to live in idleness.
As I have said before, I was unwilling to add to those who had annoyed
the Prophet by domestic allusions, and have, therefore, no direct
knowledge of the extent to which he carried his polygamy; some
Gentiles allowed him seventeen, others thirty-six, wives out of a
household of seventy members, others an indefinite number of wives
scattered through the different settlements. Of these, doubtless, many
were but wives by name――such, for instance, as the wives of the late
Prophet; and others were married more for the purpose of building up
for themselves spiritual kingdoms than for the normal purpose of
matrimony. I judged the Prophet’s progeny to be numerous from the
following circumstance. On one occasion, when standing with him on the
belvedere, my eye fell upon a new erection; it could be compared
externally to nothing but an English gentleman’s hunting-stables, and
I asked him what it was intended for. “A private school for my
children,” he replied, “directed by Brother Kelsey.”
The following Sunday I attended a Mormon service. I passed the morning
in the painful but appropriate exercise of reading the books of Mormon
and of Moroni the prophet. Some people had told me that it was the
best imitation of the Old Testament existing; to me it seemed to
emulate the sprightliness of Leviticus. Surely there never was a book
so dull and heavy; it was as monotonous as a sage prairie. In
Mormonism it holds the same place as the Bible in the more ignorant
Roman Catholic countries, where religious reading is chiefly
restricted to the Breviary, tales of miracles, of saints, and so
forth. It was strictly proper, and did not contain a word about
materialism and polygamy.
The early part of the morning passed. At 9.45 a.m. we entered “the
Bowery”; it was advisable to go early to get seats within hearing.
This place was a kind of “hangar,” about one hundred feet long by the
same breadth, with a roofing of bushes and boughs supported by rough
posts, and open for ventilation on the sides; it contained about three
thousand souls. The congregation was accommodated upon long rows of
benches, opposite the dais, or tribune, which looked like a long lane
of boarding open to the north, where it faced the audience, and
entered by steps from the east. Between the people and the platform
was the orchestra――a violin, a bass, two women, and four men
performers――who sang the sweet songs of Zion tolerably well.
We took our seats on the benches, where we could see the congregation
flocking in, a proceeding which was not over for half an hour. The
people were all in their Sunday best, and many a pretty face peeped
out from the sun-bonnet, though the “mushroom” and the “pork-pie” had
found their way over the plains, and trim figures were clad in neat
dresses, sometimes with a little faded finery. The men were decently
attired; but the weather being hot, many of them had left their coats
at home, and had come in their shirt sleeves. The custom, however,
looked natural, and there was no want of cleanliness, such as
sometimes lurks behind the bulwark of buttons. The elders and
dignitaries on the platform affected coats of black broadcloth. All
wore their hats till the address began, then all uncovered. The number
of old people astonished me; half a dozen were sitting on the same
bench: these broken-down men and decrepit crones had come to lay their
bones in the Holy City.
At 10 a.m. the meeting opened with a spiritual song, and then a
civilised-looking man, being called upon by the presiding Elder for
the day, offered up prayer. The matter was good, but somewhat
commonplace. The conclusion was an “Amen,” in which all hands joined.
It reminded me of the historical practice of “humming” in the
seventeenth century.
Next arose Bishop Abraham O. Smoot, second Mayor of Zion, who began
with “Brethring,” and proceeded in a Methody tone of voice to praise
the saints and pitch into the apostates. He made an undue use of the
regular Wesleyan organ――the nose; but he appeared to speak excellent
sense in execrable English. As he was in the midst of an allusion to
the President, Brigham Young entered, and all turned their faces, even
the old lady who was sleeping through the discourse.
The Prophet was dressed as usual in grey homespun and home-woven; he
wore, like most of the elders, a tall, steeple-crowned straw hat, with
a broad black ribbon, and he had the gentility of black kid gloves. He
entered the tribune covered, and sat down. A man in a fit was carried
out pumpwards. Bishop Smoot concluded with informing us that we should
live for God. Another hymn was sung. Then a great silence, which told
us that something was about to happen: _that_ old man held his cough;
_that_ old lady awoke with a start; _that_ child ceased to squall.
President Brigham Young removed his hat, advanced to the end of the
tribune, expectorated into the spittoon, restored the balance of fluid
by a glass of water from a decanter on a stand, and, leaning slightly
forwards with both hands propped on the green baize of the tribune,
addressed his followers.