My Native Land. James Cox
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