Showing how Passe-partout went through a Course of Mormon History, at
the rate of Twenty Miles an Hour.
During the night of the 5-6th December, the train kept in a
south-easterly direction for about fifty miles, and then went up in a
north-east course towards Salt Lake.
About nine o'clock in the morning, Passe-partout went out upon the
platform to get a breath of fresh air. The weather was cold and the
sky was dull, but there was no snow falling then. The sun in the mist
looked like an enormous disc of gold, and Passe-partout was
calculating what it would be worth in English money, when he was
disturbed by the appearance of a very curious personage.
This individual, who had got into the train at Elko, was tall and of
dark complexion, had a black moustache, wore black stockings, and
black hat and clothes, except his necktie, which was white, and his
gloves, which were dog-skin. He looked like a minister. He went the
whole length of the train, and fastened a small notice-bill on the
door of every car. Passe-partout read one of these "posters," and
learnt that the Honourable Elder William Hitch, Mormon Missionary,
would take advantage of the occasion to deliver a lecture upon
Mormonism, in car No. 117, at eleven o'clock in the fore-noon till
twelve noon, and invited all those who wished to learn something about
the "Latter-day Saints" to attend the lecture.
"Faith, I'll go," muttered Passe-partout, who knew nothing about
Mormonism, except the plurality of wives.
The news spread rapidly amongst the passengers, and about thirty out
of the hundred travellers were attracted to car No. 117. Passe-partout
took a front seat. Neither his master nor Fix troubled themselves
about the matter.
At the hour named the elder William Hitch got up, and in a somewhat
irritable manner, as if he had been already contradicted, cried out:
"I tell you that Joe Smith is a martyr, and his brother Hiram is
another, and the way the Government is persecuting Brigham Young will
make him a martyr also. Now who dares say anything to the contrary?"
No one ventured to contradict him, and his vehemence certainly
contrasted strangely with his calm features. But no doubt his anger
was kindled by the indignities to which the Mormons had been actually
exposed. The United States Government had certainly had a great deal
of trouble to bring these fanatics to reason. It was now master of
Utah, after having imprisoned Brigham Young on the charges of
rebellion and polygamy. Since that time the followers of the prophet
had redoubled their efforts, and, if not by deeds, by words resisted
the authority of the United States Government. Elder W. Hitch, as we
have seen, was endeavouring to gain converts in the railroad-cars.
Then he went on to recite passionately the history of Mormonism from
patriarchal times. How in Israel a Mormon prophet of the tribe of
Joseph published the annals of the new religion, and left them to his
son Morom; and how, many centuries later, a translation of this
wonderful book was made by Joseph Smith, junior, a Vermont farmer, who
revealed himself as a prophet in 1823, when the angel appeared to him
and gave him the sacred roll of the book.
About this time several of the audience left the car, but the lecturer
continued to relate how Smith, junior, his father and brothers, and a
few disciples founded the religion of the Latter-day Saints, which can
count its converts not only in America, but in Scandinavia, England,
and Germany. Also how a colony was established in Ohio, where a temple
was erected at a cost of two hundred thousand dollars, and a town
built at Kirkland. How Smith became an opulent banker, and received a
papyrus scroll written by Abraham and several celebrated Egyptians.
The narrative being very tiresome, the greater part of the audience
decamped, but the lecturer nevertheless continued his tale respecting
Joe Smith, his bankruptcy, his tarring and feathering, his
reappearance at Independence, Missouri, as the head of a flourishing
community of about three thousand disciples, his pursuit, and
settlement in the Far West.
By this time Passe-partout and ten others were all that remained of
the audience, who were informed that after much persecution Smith
reappeared in Illinois and founded the beautiful city of Nauvoo, on
the Mississippi, of which he became chief magistrate; how he became a
candidate for the Presidency of the United States; how he was drawn
into an ambuscade at Carthage, imprisoned, and assassinated by a band
of masked murderers.
Passe-partout was now absolutely the only listener, and the lecturer
looking him steadily in the face recalled to his memory the actions of
the pious Brigham Young, and showed him how the colony of Mormon had
flourished.
"And this is why the jealousy of Congress is roused against us. Shall
we yield to force? Never! Driven from State to State we shall yet find
an independent soil on which to rest and erect our tents. And you," he
continued to Passe-partout, "and you, my brother, will not you pitch
your tent beneath the shadow of our flag?"
"No," replied Passe-partout firmly, as he walked away, leaving the
Mormon elder by himself.
While the lecturer had been holding forth the train had been
progressing rapidly, and had reached the north-west extremity of Salt
Lake. From that point the passengers could see this immense inland
sea--the Dead Sea, as it is sometimes called, and into which an
American Jordan flows. It is even now a splendid sheet of water, but
time and the falling-in of the banks have in some degree reduced its
ancient size.
Salt Lake is seventy miles long and thirty-five wide, and is more than
three miles above the level of the sea. Though quite different from
Lake Asphaltites, it contains salt in large quantities. The specific
gravity of the water is one thousand one hundred and seventy; the same
distilled is one thousand. No fish can live in it; and though brought
down by the Jordan, Weber, and other rivers, soon perish; but it is
not true that its density is so great that no men can swim in it.
The surrounding country is well cultivated, for the Mormons are great
farmers, and various flowers, etc., would have been observed later.
Just then the ground was sprinkled with snow.
The train got to Ogden at two o'clock, and did not start again until
six; so Mr. Fogg and party had time to visit the City of the Saints by
the branch-line to Ogden. They passed a couple of hours in that very
American town, built, like all cities in the Union, with the
"melancholy sadness of right angles," as Victor Hugo said. In America,
where everything is supposed to be done on the square, though the
people do not reach that level, cities, houses, and follies are all
done "squarely."
At three o'clock our travellers were walking about the city. They
remarked very few churches, but the public buildings were the house of
the prophet, the court, the arsenal; houses of blue brick, with
porches and verandahs surrounded by gardens, in which were palm-trees
and acacias, etc. A stone wall ran round the city. In the principal
street was the market-place and several hotels; amongst them Salt Lake
House rose up.
There was no crowd in the streets, except near the temple. There was a
superabundance of females, which was accounted for by the peculiar
tenets of Mormons; but it is a mistake to suppose that all the Mormons
are polygamists. They can do as they please; but it may be stated that
the females are chiefly anxious to wed, as unmarried women are not
admitted to the full privileges of membership. These poor creatures do
not appear to be well off or happy. Some perhaps are rich and clothed
in European style, but the majority were dressed _à la Indienne_.
Passe-partout beheld these women with some degree of awe, but above
all he pitied the husbands of these wives. It seemed to him to be an
awful thing to guide so many wives through all the mazes of life, and
to conduct them to the Mormon paradise, with the prospect of meeting
the glorious Joe Smith, who no doubt was there a shining light. He
felt quite disgusted, and he fancied--perhaps he was mistaken--that
some of the young ladies gazed at him alarmingly, and in a manner to
compromise his liberty.
Fortunately his sojourn in the City of the Saints was not of long
duration. At four o'clock the travellers took their places in the
return train. The whistle sounded, but just as the train began to move
a cry was heard, "Stop, stop!"
But the train did not stop. The gentleman who uttered these cries was
a Mormon too late for the train. He ran till he was out of breath.
Fortunately the railroad was quite open, there were no barriers nor
gates to pass. He rushed along the line, jumped upon the footboard of
the last carriage, and then threw himself panting into the nearest
seat. Passe-partout, who had been watching him intently, learnt that
he had run away after some domestic quarrel, and when the Mormon had
recovered his breath Passe-partout plucked up courage to inquire how
many wives the fugitive had left, as, judging from his anxiety to get
away, he must have had twenty at least.
"One, sir," replied the Mormon, raising his arms to heaven. "One, sir;
and, by thunder, that one was quite enough!"