THE MORMONS AND THEIR WIVES.
The Pilgrimage Across the Bad Lands to Utah--Incidents of the
March--Success of the New Colony--Religious Persecutions--Murder of an
Entire Family--The Curse of Polygamy--An Ideal City--Humors of Bathing
in Great Salt Lake.
About half a century ago one of the most remarkable pilgrimages of
modern times took place. Across what was then, not inaptly, described by
writers as an arid and repulsive desert, there advanced a procession of
the most unique and awe-inspiring character. History tells us of bands
of crusaders who tramped across Europe in order to rescue the Holy Land
from tyrants and invaders. On that occasion, all sorts and conditions of
men were represented, from the religious enthusiast, to the ignorant
bigot, and from the rich man who was sacrificing his all in the cause
that he believed to be right, to the tramp and ne'er-do-well, who had
allied himself with that cause for revenue only.
But the distance traversed by the crusaders six or seven hundred years
ago was insignificant compared with the distance traversed by the
pilgrims to whom we are referring. In addition to this, the country to
be crossed presented difficulties of a far more startling and
threatening character. There was before them a promised land in the
extreme distance, but there intervened a tract of land which seemed as
impassable a barrier as the much talked-of, but seldom inspected,
Chinese Wall of old. There was a region of desolation and death,
extending from the Sierra Nevadas to the border lines of Nebraska, and
from the Yellowstone to the Colorado Rivers. A profane writer once
suggested that the same Creator could hardly have brought into existence
this arid, barren and inhospitable region and the fertile plains and
beautiful mountains which surrounded it on all sides.
Civilization and irrigation have destroyed the most awful
characteristics of this region, but at the time to which we are
referring, it was about as bad from the standpoint of humanity and human
needs as could well be imagined. Here and there, there were lofty
mountains and deep cañons, as there are now, but the immense plains,
which occupy the bulk of the land, were unwatered and uncared for,
giving forth volumes of a penetrating alkali dust, almost as injurious
to human flesh as to human attire. Here and there, there were, of
course, little oases of comparative verdure, which were regarded by
unfortunate travelers not only as havens of refuge, but as little
heavens in the midst of a sea of despair. The trail across the desert,
naturally, ran through as many as possible of these successful efforts
of nature to resist decay, and along the trail there were to be found
skeletons and ghastly remains of men whose courage had exceeded their
ability, and who had succumbed to hunger and thirst in this great,
lonesome desert.
That no one lived in this region it would seem superfluous to state.
Occasionally a band of Indians would traverse it in search of hunting
grounds beyond, though, as a general rule, the red man left the country
severely alone, and made no effort to dispute the rights of the coyotes
and buzzards to sole possession.
Along the trail mentioned, there advanced at the period to which we have
referred, a procession which we have likened, in some respects, to the
advance of the crusaders in mediaeval days. Those who happened to see it
pass described this cavalcade as almost beyond conception. The first
impression from a distance was that an immense herd of buffalo were
advancing and creating the cloud of dust, which seemed to rise from the
bare ground and mount to the clouds. As it came nearer, and the figures
became more discernible, it was seen that the caravan was headed by a
band of armed horsemen. The animals were jaded and fatigued, and walked
with their heads low down and their knees bent out of shape and form.
Their riders seemed as exhausted as the animals themselves, and they
carried their dust-begrimed guns in anything but military fashion.
Behind them came hundreds, nay, thousands, of wagons, of all shapes and
builds, some of them entirely open and exposed, and others protected
more or less by canvas tilts. These wagons seemed to stretch back
indefinitely into space, and even when there was no undulation of the
surface to obstruct the view, the naked eye could not determine to any
degree the length of the procession. Near the front of the great
cavalcade was a wagon different in build and appearance to any of the
others. It was handsomely and even gaudily decorated, and it was covered
in so carefully that its occupants could sleep and rest as secure from
annoyance by the dust as though they were in bed at home.
Instead of two broken-down horses, six well-fed and well-watered steeds
were attached to the wagon, and it was evident that no matter how short
had been the supply of food and water, the horses and occupants of this
particular conveyance had had everything they desired. The occupant of
this wagon was a man who did not look to be more than thirty years of
age, but whose face and manner indicated that he was in the habit of
being obeyed rather than obeying. A great portion of his time was
occupied in reading from a large vellum-bound book, but from time to
time he laid it on one side to settle disputes which had arisen among
some of his ten thousand followers, or to issue orders of the most
emphatic and dogmatic character.
This man was Brigham Young, the successor of Joseph Smith, and the
chosen Prophet of the Mormons, who were marching across the desert in
search of the promised land, which they were informed had been set aside
for their purpose by the Ruler of the Universe.
We need not follow the fortunes and misfortunes of the zealous, if
misguided, men and families who followed their leader across the great
unwatered and almost unexplored desert. No one knows how many fell by
the wayside and succumbed to hunger, exhaustion or disease. The bulk of
the column, however, persevered in the march, and, through much sadness
and tribulation, finally arrived at a country which, while it was not
then by any means up to expectation or representation, at least
presented facilities and opportunities for living. When the great
valleys of Utah were reached, men who a few months before had been
strong and hardy, but who now were lank and lean, fell on their knees
and offered up thanksgiving for their deliverance, while the exhausted
women and children sought repose and rest, which had been denied them
for so many long, wearisome days.
But there was no time to be wasted in rejoicings over achievements, or
regrets over losses. The virgin acres before them were theirs for the
asking, or rather taking, and the Mormon colony set to work at once to
parcel out the land and to commence the building of homes. Whatever may
be said against the religious ideas of these pilgrims, too much credit
cannot be given them for the business-like energy which characterized
their every movement. A site was selected for what is now known as Salt
Lake City. Broad streets were laid out, building plans and rules
adopted, and every arrangement made for the construction of a handsome
and symmetrical city. Houses, streets and squares appeared almost by
magic, and in a very few weeks quite a healthy town was built up. Those
who in more Eastern regions had learned different trades were set to
work at callings of their choice, and for those who were agriculturally
disposed, farms were mapped out and reserved.
Fortunately for the newcomers, industry was a watchword among them, and
a country which had been up to that time a stranger to the plow and
shovel was drained and ditched, and very speedily planted to corn and
wheat. So fertile did this so-called arid ground prove to be, that one
year's crop threw aside all fears of further poverty, and prosperity
began to reign supreme. Had the Mormons confined themselves to work, and
had abandoned extreme religious and social ideas, impossible in an
enlightened age and country, they would have risen long before this into
an impregnable position in every respect.
But polygamy, hitherto restrained and checked by laws of Eastern States
and Territories, was now indulged in indiscriminately. The more wives a
member of the Mormon church possessed, the greater was his standing in
the community. The man who had but two or three wives was censured for
his want of enthusiasm, and he was frequently fined heavily by the
church, which was not above levying fines, and thus licensing alleged
irregularities. Some of the elders had more than a hundred wives each,
and these were maintained under relations of a most peculiar character.
At first the polygamous tenents of the church did not cause much comment
on the outside, because the Mormons were so shut off from civilization
that they seemed to occupy a little world of their own, and no one
claimed the right to censure or interfere with them. Gradually, however,
there became a shortage of marriageable women, and this resulted in
mysterious raids being made on neighboring settlements. Wanderers upon
the mountains spoke with horror of mysterious tribes of men who wandered
around engaged in acts of plunder, and from time to time strange women
appeared in the towns and settlements.
Like so many other bands of persecuted men who had fled from their
oppressors in search of liberty, the early Mormons soon adopted the
tactics of which they had complained so bitterly. The man who refused to
obey the orders of the church, or who was in any way rebellious, was apt
to disappear from his home without warning or explanation. He was not
arrested or tried; he was simply spirited away, and no mark or sign
proclaimed his last resting place. The Danite Band, or the Avenging
Angels, came into existence, and some of their terrible deeds have
contributed dark pages to the history of our native land.
It is not to be supposed that acts such as these were approved
indiscriminately by the newcomers. Occasionally a mild protest would be
uttered, but it seemed as though the very walls had ears, for even if a
man in the bosom of his family criticised the conduct of the church, his
doom appeared to be sealed, and he generally disappeared within a few
days. Occasionally a family would attempt to escape from Utah, in order
to avoid compliance with laws and orders which they believed to be
criminal in character, as well as contrary to their preconceived notions
of domestic happiness and right. To make an attempt of this character
was to invite death. In the first place, it was almost impossible to
traverse the surrounding mountains and deserts, and even if these
natural obstacles were overcome, the hand of the avenger was constantly
uplifted against the fugitives, who were blotted off the face of the
earth, on the theory that dead men tell no tales.
On one occasion, a man left his home in Utah in the way described,
because he declined to bring home a second wife. Brigham Young, in the
course of his pastoral calls, entered the comfortable house occupied by
the family, and called upon the man to introduce to him his wives. He
was one of the few men who, while in every other respect a zealous
Mormon, had declined to break up his family relations by bringing a
young wife into his home. The mother of his children informed the
Prophet with much vehemence of this fact, and in words more noble than
discreet assured him that no effort of his could disturb the domestic
relations of the house, or make her husband untrue to vows he had taken
twenty years before.
The Prophet was too astounded to lose his temper, but turning to the
happy husband and father, he told him in stentorian tones that unless
within one month he complied with the orders of the church, it would
have been better for him had he never been born, or had he died while on
the terrible march across the Bad Lands and the alkali desert. That the
Prophet was in earnest was evidenced by the arrival the following day of
some of his minions, who brought with them more explicit directions, as
well as the names of certain young women to whom the man must be
"sealed" or "married" within the time mentioned by Young.
No idea of complying with this order ever occurred to the head of the
house. He knew that his wife would far rather die than be dishonored,
and he himself was perfectly willing to sacrifice his life rather than
his honor. But for the sake of his four children he determined to make
an attempt to escape, and accordingly, a few days later, the family,
having collected together all their available and easily transported
assets, hitched up their wagon and drove away in the dead of night.
Their departure in this manner was not expected, and was not discovered
for nearly forty-eight hours, during which time the refugees had made
considerable progress over the surrounding mountains. They maintained
their march for nearly a week, without incident, and were congratulating
themselves upon their escape, when the disaster which they had feared
overtook them.
They were camped by the side of a little stream in a fertile valley, and
all were sleeping peacefully but the elder boy, who was acting as
sentinel. His attention was first called to danger by the uneasiness
displayed by the horses, which, by their restless manner and sudden
anxiety, showed that instinct warned them of an approaching party.
Without wasting a moment's time, the young man hastily aroused the
sleepers, who prepared to abandon their camp and seek refuge in the
adjoining timber. They had barely reached cover when a party of mounted
armed men rode up. Finding a deserted camp, they separated, and
commenced to scour the surrounding country. One of the number soon came
upon the retreating family, but before he could cover them with his
rifle he had been shot dead by the infuriated father, who was determined
to resist to the uttermost the horrible fate which now stared them in
the face.
The noise was taken by the other searchers as a signal to them that the
hunted family had been found, and knowing that this would be so, the man
and his sons hurried the woman and younger children to a secluded spot
at a little distance, and seeking convenient cover determined to make a
desperate effort to protect those for whose safety they were
responsible. Unfortunately for the successful carrying out of this plan,
the helpless section of the party was discovered first. The avenging
party then divided up into two sections, one of which dragged away the
woman and her young children, and the others went in search of the man
and his two sons. They speedily found them, and in the fight which
followed two lives were lost on both sides.
The oldest son of the escaping party was wounded and left for dead.
Several hours later consciousness returned to him, and the first sight
that met his gaze was the dead bodies of his father and brother. A
chance was offered him to escape, but weak as he was from loss of blood,
he determined to follow up the kidnaping party, forming the desperate
resolve that if he could not rescue his mother and sisters, he would at
least save them from the horrible fate that he knew awaited them. This
resolve involved his death, for he was no match for the men he was
contending against. No grave was ever dug for his remains, and no
headstone tells the story of his noble resolution and his intrepid
effort to carry it into execution.
There were hundreds, and probably thousands, of similar incidents, and
Mormonism proved a sad drawback to the happiness of a people who
otherwise had before them prospects of a most delightful character.
Brigham Young proved a marvelous success as a ruler. He had eighteen
wives and an indefinite number of children, estimates concerning the
number of which vary so much that it is best not to give any of them. It
is generally stated and understood that the so-called revelation calling
upon the chosen people to practice polygamy, was an invention on the
part of Young, designed to cover up his own immorality, and to obtain
religious sanction for improper relationships he had already built up.
However this may be, it is certain that polygamy had a serious blow
dealt at it by the death of its ardent champion. Since then stern
federal legislation has resulted in the practical suppression of the
crime, and in recent years the present head of the church has officially
declared the practice to be improper, and the habit dead.
Brigham Young's grave, of which we give an illustration, has been
visited from time to time-by countless pleasure and sight-seekers. Like
the man, it is unique in every respect. It is situated in the Prophet's
private burial ground, which was surveyed and laid out by him with
special care. He even went so far as to select the last resting place
for each of his eighteen wives, and so careful was he over these details
that the honor of resting near him was given to each wife in order of
the date of her being "sealed" to him, in accordance with the rites and
laws of the church. Most of the Mrs. Youngs have been buried according
to arrangements made, but all of the remarkable aggregation of wives has
not yet been disposed of in the manner desired. The Prophet's favorite
wife, concerning whose relationship to Mrs. Grover Cleveland there has
been so much controversy, was named Amelia Folsom. For her special
comfort the Prophet built the Amelia Palace, one of the most unique
features of Salt Lake City. Here the lady lived for several years.
Let us leave the unpleasant side of Mormon history and see what the
zealous, if misguided, people have succeeded in accomplishing. Salt Lake
City, which was originally settled by Brigham Young and his followers in
July, 1847, is perhaps the most uniform city in the world so far as its
plans are concerned. The original settlers laid out the city in squares
ten acres large. Instead of streets sixty and eighty feet wide, as are
too common in all our crowded cities, a uniform width of 130 feet was
adopted, with more satisfactory results. In the original portion of the
city these wide streets are a permanent memorial to the forethought of
the early Mormons. The shade trees they planted are now magnificent in
their proportions, and along each side of the street there runs a stream
of water of exquisite clearness. There is very little crowding in the
way of house-building. Each house in the city is surrounded by a green
lawn, a garden and an orchard, so that poverty and squalor of the slum
type is practically unknown. The communistic idea of homes in common,
which has received so much attention of late years, was not adopted by
the founders of this city, who, however, took excellent precautions to
stamp out loafing, begging and other accompaniments of what may be
described as professional pauperism.
Within thirty years of the building of the first house in Salt Lake
City, which, by the way, is still standing, the number of inhabitants
ran up to 20,000. It is now probably more than 50,000, and the city
stands thirty-first in the order of those whose clearing-house returns
are reported and compared weekly. Hotels abound on every side, and
benevolent institutions and parks are common. Churches, of course, there
are without number, and now that the Government has interfered in the
protection of so-called Gentiles, almost all religious sects are
represented.
No description of the Mormon Temple can convey a reasonable idea of its
grandeur. Six years after the arrival of the pilgrims at Salt Lake City,
or in 1853, work was commenced on this immense structure, upon which at
least $7,000,000 have been expended. Its length is 200 feet, its width
100 feet, and its height the same. At each corner there is a tower 220
feet high. The thickness of the walls is 10 feet, and these are built of
snow-white granite. So conspicuous and massive is this building, that it
can be seen from the mountains fifty and even a hundred miles away.
The Tabernacle, which is in the same square as the Temple, and just west
of it, is aptly described by Mr. P. Donan as one of the architectural
curios of the world. It looks like a vast terrapin back, or half of a
prodigious egg-shell cut in two lengthwise, and is built wholly of iron,
glass and stone. It is 250 feet long, 150 feet wide, and 100 feet high
in the center of the roof, which is a single mighty arch, unsupported by
pillar or post, and is said to have but one counterpart on the globe.
The walls are 12 feet thick, and there are 20 huge double doors for
entrance and exit. The Tabernacle seats 13,462 people, and its acoustic
properties are so marvelously perfect that a whisper or the dropping of
a pin can be heard all over it. The organ is one of the largest and
grandest toned in existence, and was built of native woods, by Mormon
workmen and artists, at a cost of $100,000. It is 58 feet high, has 57
stops, and contains 2,648 pipes, some of them nearly as large as the
chimneys of a Mississippi River steamer.
The choir consists of from 200 to 500 trained voices, and the music is
glorious beyond description. Much of it is in minor keys, and a strain
of plaintiveness mingles with all its majesty and power. All the seats
are free, and tourists from all parts of the world are to be found among
the vast multitudes that assemble at every service. Think of seeing the
Holy Communion broken bread, and water from the Jordan River, instead of
wine, administered to from 6,000 to 8,000 communicants at one time! One
can just fancy the old-time Mormon elders marching in, each followed by
his five or twenty-five wives and his fifty or a hundred children.
Close by is Assembly Hall, also of white granite, and of Gothic
architecture. It has seats for 2,500 people, and is most remarkable for
the costly fresco work on the ceiling, which illustrates scenes from
Mormon history, including the alleged discovery of the golden plates and
their delivery to Prophet Smith by the Angel Moroni.
All around this remarkable city are sights of surpassing beauty. Great
Salt Lake itself ought to be regarded as one of the wonders of the
world. Although an inland sea, with an immense area intervening between
it and the nearest ocean, its waters are much more brackish and salty
than those of either the Atlantic or the Pacific, and its specific
gravity is far greater. Experts tell us that the percentage of salt and
soda is six times as great as in the waters of the Atlantic, and one
great advantage of living in its vicinity is the abundance of good, pure
salt, which is produced by natural evaporation on its banks. It would be
interesting, if it were possible, to explain why it is that the water is
so salty. Various reasons have been advanced from time to time for this
phenomenon, but none of them are sufficiently practical or tangible to
be of great interest to the unscientific reader.
It is just possible that this wonderful lake may in course of time
disappear entirely. Some years ago its width was over 40 miles on an
average, and its length was very much greater. Now it barely measures
100 miles from end to end and the width varies from 10 to 60 miles. In
the depth the gradual curtailment has been more apparent. At one time
the average depth was many hundred feet, and several soundings of 1,000
feet were taken, with the result reported, in sailors' parlance, of "No
bottom." At the present time the depth varies from 40 to 100 feet, and
appears to be lessening steadily, presumably because of the
extraordinary deposit of solid matter from the very dense waters with
which it is filled.
The lake is a bathers' paradise, and the arrangements for bathing from
Garfield Beach are like everything else in the land of the Mormons,
extraordinary to a degree. In one year there were nearly half a million
bathers accommodated at the four principal resorts, and so rapidly are
these bathing resorts and establishments multiplied, that the day is not
distant when every available site on the eastern shore of the lake will
be appropriated for the purpose. As a gentleman who has bathed in this
lake again and again says, it seems preposterous to speak of the finest
sea-bathing on earth a thousand miles from the ocean, although the
bathing in Great Salt Lake infinitely surpasses anything of the kind on
either the Atlantic or Pacific coasts.
The water contains many times more salt, and much more soda, sulphur,
magnesia, chlorine, bromine and potassium than any ocean water on the
globe. It is powerful in medicinal virtues, curing or benefiting many
forms of rheumatism, rheumatic gout, dyspepsia, nervous disorders and
cutaneous diseases, and it acts like magic on the hair of those
unfortunates whose tendencies are to bald-headedness. It is a prompt and
potent tonic and invigorant of body and mind, and then there is no end
of fun in getting acquainted with its peculiarities. A first bath in it
is always as good as a circus, the bather being his or her own trick
mule. The specific gravity is but a trifle less than that of the Holy
Land Dead Sea.
The human body will not and cannot sink in it. You can walk out in it
where it is fifty feet deep, and your body will stick up out of it like
a fishing-cork from the shoulders upward. You can sit down in it
perfectly secure where it is fathoms deep. Men lie on top of it with
their arms under their heads and smoking cigars. Its buoyancy is
indescribable and unimaginable. Any one can float upon it at the first
trial; there is nothing to do but lie down gently upon it and float.
But swimming is an entirely different matter. The moment you begin to
"paddle your own canoe," lively and--to the lookers-on--mirth-provoking
exercises ensue. When you stick your hand under to make a stroke your
feet decline to stay anywhere but on top; and when, after an exciting
tussle with your refractory pedal extremities, you again get them
beneath the surface, your hands fly out with the splash and splutter of
a half-dozen flutter wheels. If, on account of your brains being heavier
than your heels, you chance to turn a somersault, and your head goes
under, your heels will pop up like a pair of frisky, dapper ducks.
You cannot keep more than one end of yourself under water at once, but
you soon learn how to wrestle with its novelties, and then it becomes a
thing of beauty and a joy for any summer day. The water is delightful to
the skin, every sensation is exhilarating, and one cannot help feeling
in it like a gilded cork adrift in a jewel-rimmed bowl of champagne
punch. In the sense of luxurious ease with which it envelops the bather,
it is unrivaled on earth. The only approximation to it is in the
phosphorescent waters of the Mosquito Indian coast.
The water does not freeze until the thermometric mercury tumbles down to
eighteen degrees above zero, or fourteen below the ordinary freezing
point. It is clear as crystal, with a bottom of snow-white sand, and
small objects can be distinctly seen at a depth of twenty feet. There is
not a fish or any other living thing in all the 2,500 to 3,000 square
miles of beautiful and mysterious waters, except the yearly increasing
swarms of summer bathers. Not a shark, or a stingaree, to scare the
timid swimmer or floater; not a minnow, or a frog, a tadpole, or a
pollywog--nothing that lives, moves, swims, crawls or wiggles. It is the
ideal sea-bathing place of the world.