Showing posts with label Brigham Young. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Brigham Young. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 12, 2020

Review of Saints, Vol. 2: No Unhallowed Hand, 1846–1893


Review of Saints: The Story of the Church of Jesus Christ in the Latter Days. Volume 2, No Unhallowed Hand, 1846–1893

General editors: Matthew J. Grow, Jed L. Woodworth, Scott A. Hales, and Lisa Olsen Tait. Salt Lake City: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 2020. Paperback, first printing, 833 pages.

Reviewed by Devan Jensen, executive editor at the BYU Religious Studies Center

No Unhallowed Hand ranges widely, beginning with the Saints’ expulsion from the Nauvoo area, their travels to the Great Salt Lake Valley, the recruitment of the Mormon Battalion, and the challenges of settling Utah’s Wasatch Front, including working through tense relations with indigenous people and the federal government.

Thousands of pioneers crossed the Great Plains, seeking to build dugouts and frontier homes in the Great Basin. Sam Brannan, an emigrant leader, urged all to keep traveling to San Francisco. He was overruled by Brigham Young, president of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, who soon became territorial governor. 

Settlers quickly displaced and created stressful living conditions for the indigenous Ute, Shoshone, and Paiute tribes in Utah. Tension resulted in the Walker War (192–97), the Bear River Massacre (402), and the Black Hawk War (336–48). Indian missions struggled for decades but eventually resulted in conversions described “like fire in the dry grass” (405). Many of those Shoshone converts helped build the Logan Temple and performed vicarious baptisms for the dead, including those who died in the massacre (509–11). These stories are important to share.

Men and women struggled to forge communities while hundreds of missionaries traveled to distant lands, including Hawaii, Tahiti, Scandinavia, and South Africa. George Q. Cannon, Joseph F. Smith, and his “dear sister” Martha Ann Smith Harris played major roles in many of these stories.

The book takes a refreshingly candid look at complex issues such as adoption sealings (41–42), plural marriage (152–54), the temple and priesthood restriction against blacks (181–82), and the Utah War and related Mountain Meadows Massacre (254–63). Of course, race was a hotly debated issue in the stormy decades before the US Civil War. In the 1852 territorial debate on slavery, Governor Young “declared publicly for the first time that people of black African descent could no longer be ordained to the priesthood. Before this time, a few black men had been ordained.” Elder Orson Pratt strongly objected to slavery in Utah without “any authority from heaven.” Governor Young’s views “echoed a widespread but mistaken idea that God had cursed people of black African descent” (182). “Can a prophet or an apostle be mistaken?” he asked in 1858. “Do not ask me any such question, for I will acknowledge that all the time” (279). (Yes, even prophets are fallible.) Many decades later, black member Jane Manning James sought First Presidency permission to be sealed, with the poignant plea, “Is there no blessing for me?” (590). Her letters went unanswered. (Church leaders eventually returned to the original unrestricted policy toward blacks nearly a hundred years later, in 1978.)

Throughout Utah, the Saints began building temples to perform ordinances for the living and the dead. Many felt complex emotions while enduring federal prosecution to restrict the practice of plural marriage, and many felt equally complicated feelings when the Manifesto overturned that practice (602–7). President Wilford Woodruff reassured them, “The Lord will never permit me or any other man who stands as President of this Church to lead you astray” (609). Most members adapted. Others struggled to change and continued the practice. (As human beings, we swim in powerful currents of culture. If currents sweep us out to sea, we need to change direction.)

The book concludes with the joyful dedication of the Salt Lake Temple (661–65). Overall, I highly recommend this book. I congratulate the authors, editors, and publisher for demonstrating integrity to the historical sources and nuances of history. 

Monday, July 28, 2014

The Utah War and Mountain Meadows Massacre

The Utah War and Mountain Meadows Massacre together form one of the darkest chapters in the history of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Mormons). To help readers understand these events, this blog post gathers historical perspectives from historians both outside and inside the faith. Like a tapestry woven of many threads, the various accounts show us the complex issues and individuals involved in the Utah War.

A Non-Mormon Perspective on the Utah War

“So what was the Utah War?” asks William P. MacKinnon, an independent historian who happens to be Presbyterian. He then answers his own question: “In one sense it was President James Buchanan’s effort to replace Brigham Young as governor of Utah Territory and to install his successor with an army escort of 2,500 troops, a change that Young resisted with guerrilla tactics until a settlement was reached a year later in 1858. Over the years I have come to define it more formally as the armed confrontation over power and authority during 1857–58 between the civil-religious leadership of Utah Territory, led by Governor Brigham Young, and the administration of President James Buchanan—a conflict that pitted perhaps the nation’s largest, most experienced territorial militia (called the Nauvoo Legion) against an expeditionary force that ultimately grew to involve almost one-third of the U.S. Army.[i] 

President James Buchanan


MacKinnon says that while teaching or writing about the Utah War, we would be wise to avoid inaccurate or belittling nicknames for elements of this conflict such as “Johnston’s Army” or “Buchanan’s Blunder.” These terms oversimplify the nature of the events and complex issues at stake.[ii] 

Human nature being what it is, mistakes were made by both President Buchanan and Governor Young: “In Buchanan’s case, he knew shockingly little in 1857 about either conditions in Utah or Brigham Young’s likely reaction to his removal as governor. Compounding this serious shortfall in intelligence was a series of horrible selection decisions—the appointment of a homicidal, ham-handed brevet brigadier general, William S. Harney, as the Utah Expedition’s initial commander and Alfred Cumming, an inexperienced four-hundred-pound alcoholic, as Young’s successor. These were appointments that bring to mind the old lesson about nothing being as expensive as bad management.”[iii] Another huge mistake was unwillingness to communicate with Governor Young before or after sending a hostile force.

Governor Brigham Young
On Governor Young's side, MacKinnon notes "the impossibility of serving effectively two masters—as in Brigham Young’s case, when he eagerly sought to serve simultaneously both the federal government, in a myriad of overlapping civil and military roles, as well as his church as its supreme religious leader. This was a hopeless conflict of interest, and it all came crashing down with tragic results and by-products during 1857–58.”[iv] MacKinnon believes that the governor's “biggest, most costly blunder was the miscalculation by which for years he indulged in hostile, violent rhetoric as governor, behavior that brought down on him and his people needlessly the full force of the U.S. government. As a result, Utah and Mormonism changed forever.”[v] MacKinnon then summarizes long-lasting consequences of the Utah War: “The war unleashed a wide range of societal forces—political, religious, economic, and even geographic—that, among other things, barred statehood for Utah until 1896. In some cases the issues set in motion by these forces are still unresolved today. For example, I would say that today’s Sagebrush Rebellion in the West is in many ways a downstream by-product of the Utah War. Ask yourself why, in 1996, President Bill Clinton felt it best to announce his unilateral, highly unpopular creation of Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument not in southern Utah—where the new park was to be located and where local residents muttered to New York newspaper reporters about ‘Johnston’s Army’—but rather from the relative political safety of northern Arizona.[vi]

If there is a bright spot in the story of the Utah War, it is Colonel Thomas L. Kane's heroic effort to travel west and mediate peace between the disgruntled parties. Matthew Grow has written a fine biography of Kane's life and leadership titled "Liberty to the Downtrodden": Thomas L. Kane, Romantic Reformer. Kane has become one of my heroes.

Historical Perspective on the Utah War

In 2014, the Church website LDS.org posted an official statement on the historical context of the Utah War:

The “Reformation” and the Utah War
In the mid-1850s, a “reformation” within the Church and tensions between the Latter-day Saints in Utah and the U.S. federal government contributed to a siege mentality and a renewed sense of persecution that led to several episodes of violence committed by Church members. Concerned about spiritual complacency, Brigham Young and other Church leaders delivered a series of sermons in which they called the Saints to repent and renew their spiritual commitments. Many testified that they became better people because of this reformation.

Nineteenth-century Americans were accustomed to violent language, both religious and otherwise. Throughout the century, revivalists had used violent imagery to encourage the unconverted to repent and to urge backsliders to reform. At times during the reformation, President Young, his counselor Jedediah M. Grant, and other leaders preached with fiery rhetoric, warning against the evils of those who dissented from or opposed the Church. Drawing on biblical passages, particularly from the Old Testament, leaders taught that some sins were so serious that the perpetrator’s blood would have to be shed in order to receive forgiveness. Such preaching led to increased strain between the Latter-day Saints and the relatively few non-Mormons in Utah, including federally appointed officials.

In early 1857, U.S. President James Buchanan received reports from some of the federal officials alleging that Governor Young and the Latter-day Saints in Utah were rebelling against the authority of the federal government. A strongly worded memorial from the Utah legislature to the federal government convinced federal officials the reports were true. President Buchanan decided to replace Brigham Young as governor and, in what became known as the Utah War, sent an army to Utah to escort his replacement. Latter-day Saints feared that the oncoming army—some 1,500 troops, with more to follow—would renew the depredations of Missouri and Illinois and again drive the Saints from their homes. In addition, Parley P. Pratt, a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, was murdered in Arkansas in May 1857. News of the murder—as well as newspaper reports from the eastern United States that celebrated the crime—reached Utah in late June 1857. As these events unfolded, Brigham Young declared martial law in the territory, directed missionaries and settlers in outlying areas to return to Utah, and guided preparations to resist the army. Defiant sermons given by President Young and other Church leaders, combined with the impending arrival of an army, helped create an environment of fear and suspicion in Utah.

The Mountain Meadows Massacre
At the peak of this tension, in early September 1857, a branch of the territorial militia in southern Utah (composed entirely of Mormons), along with some Indians they recruited, laid siege to a wagon train of emigrants traveling from Arkansas to California. As the wagon train traveled south from Salt Lake City, the emigrants had clashed verbally with local Mormons over where they could graze their cattle. Some of the members of the wagon train became frustrated because they had difficulty purchasing much-needed grain and other supplies from local settlers, who had been instructed to save their grain as a wartime policy. Aggrieved, some of the emigrants threatened to join incoming troops in fighting against the Saints.

Although some Saints ignored these threats, other local Church leaders and members in Cedar City, Utah, advocated violence. Isaac C. Haight, a stake president and militia leader, sent John D. Lee, a militia major, to lead an attack on the emigrant company. When the president reported the plan to his council, other leaders objected and requested that he call off the attack and instead send an express rider to Brigham Young in Salt Lake City for guidance. But the men Haight had sent to attack the emigrants carried out their plans before they received the order not to attack. The emigrants fought back, and a siege ensued.
Over the next few days, events escalated, and Mormon militiamen planned and carried out a deliberate massacre. They lured the emigrants from their circled wagons with a false flag of truce and, aided by Paiute Indians they had recruited, slaughtered them. Between the first attack and the final slaughter, the massacre destroyed the lives of 120 men, women, and children in a valley known as Mountain Meadows. Only small children—those believed to be too young to be able to tell what had happened—were spared. The express rider returned two days after the massacre. He carried a letter from Brigham Young telling local leaders to “not meddle” with the emigrants and to allow them to pass through southern Utah. The militiamen sought to cover up the crime by placing the entire blame on local Paiutes, some of whom were also members of the Church.

Two Latter-day Saints were eventually excommunicated from the Church for their participation, and a grand jury that included Latter-day Saints indicted nine men. Only one participant, John D. Lee, was convicted and executed for the crime, which fueled false allegations that the massacre had been ordered by Brigham Young.
In recent years, the Church has made diligent efforts to learn everything possible about the massacre. In the early 2000s, historians in the Church History Department of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints scoured archives throughout the United States for historical records; every Church record on the massacre was also opened to scrutiny. In the resulting book, published by Oxford University Press in 2008, authors Ronald W. Walker, Richard E. Turley Jr., and Glen M. Leonard concluded that while intemperate preaching about outsiders by Brigham Young, George A. Smith, and other leaders contributed to a climate of hostility, President Young did not order the massacre. Rather, verbal confrontations between individuals in the wagon train and southern Utah settlers created great alarm, particularly within the context of the Utah War and other adversarial events. A series of tragic decisions by local Church leaders—who also held key civic and militia leadership roles in southern Utah—led to the massacre.

Aside from the Mountain Meadows Massacre, a few Latter-day Saints committed other violent acts against a small number of dissenters and outsiders. Some Latter-day Saints perpetrated acts of extralegal violence, especially in the 1850s, when fear and tensions were prevalent in Utah Territory. The heated rhetoric of Church leaders directed toward dissenters may have led these Mormons to believe that such actions were justified. The perpetrators of these crimes were generally not punished. Even so, many allegations of such violence are unfounded, and anti-Mormon writers have blamed Church leaders for many unsolved crimes or suspicious deaths in early Utah.

Conclusion
Many people in the 19th century unjustly characterized the Latter-day Saints as a violent people. Yet the vast majority of Latter-day Saints, in the 19th century as today, lived in peace with their neighbors and families, and sought peace in their communities. Travelers in the 19th century often noted the peace and order that prevailed in Mormon communities in Utah and elsewhere. Nevertheless, the actions of relatively few Latter-day Saints caused death and injury, frayed community relationships, and damaged the perception of Mormons as a peaceful people.

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints condemns violent words and actions and affirms its commitment to furthering peace throughout the world. Speaking of the Mountain Meadows Massacre, Elder Henry B. Eyring, then a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, stated, “The gospel of Jesus Christ that we espouse abhors the cold-blooded killing of men, women, and children. Indeed, it advocates peace and forgiveness. What was done here long ago by members of our Church represents a terrible and inexcusable departure from Christian teaching and conduct.”

Throughout the Church’s history, Church leaders have taught that the way of Christian discipleship is a path of peace. Elder Russell M. Nelson of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles connected the Latter-day Saints’ faith in Jesus Christ to their active pursuit of love of neighbor and peace with all people: “The hope of the world is the Prince of Peace. … Now, as members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, what does the Lord expect of us? As a Church, we must ‘renounce war and proclaim peace.’ As individuals, we should ‘follow after the things which make for peace.’ We should be personal peacemakers.”[vii]

Details of the Mountain Meadows Massacre

Richard E. Turley, Assistant Church Historian, provided details about the Mountain Meadows Massacre in an Ensign article (before publishing the landmark book Massacre at Mountain Meadows with Ronald Walker and Glen Leonard):

On September 11, 1857, some 50 to 60 local militiamen in southern Utah, aided by American Indian allies, massacred about 120 emigrants who were traveling by wagon to California. The horrific crime, which spared only 17 children age six and under, occurred in a highland valley called the Mountain Meadows, roughly 35 miles southwest of Cedar City. The victims, most of them from Arkansas, were on their way to California with dreams of a bright future.

For a century and a half the Mountain Meadows Massacre has shocked and distressed those who have learned of it. The tragedy has deeply grieved the victims’ relatives, burdened the perpetrators’ descendants and Church members generally with sorrow and feelings of collective guilt, unleashed criticism on the Church, and raised painful, difficult questions. How could this have happened? How could members of the Church have participated in such a crime?

Two facts make the case even more difficult to fathom. First, nothing that any of the emigrants purportedly did or said, even if all of it were true, came close to justifying their deaths. Second, the large majority of perpetrators led decent, nonviolent lives before and after the massacre.

As is true with any historical episode, comprehending the events of September 11, 1857, requires understanding the conditions of the time, only a brief summary of which can be shared in the few pages of this magazine article. For a more complete, documented account of the event, readers are referred to the forthcoming book Massacre at Mountain Meadows.

Historical Background
In 1857 an army of roughly 1,500 United States troops was marching toward Utah Territory, with more expected to follow. Over the preceding years, disagreements, miscommunication, prejudices, and political wrangling on both sides had created a growing divide between the territory and the federal government. In retrospect it is easy to see that both groups overreacted—the government sent an army to put down perceived treason in Utah, and the Saints believed the army was coming to oppress, drive, or even destroy them.

In 1858 this conflict—later called the Utah War—was resolved through a peace conference and negotiation. Because Utah’s militiamen and the U.S. troops never engaged each other in pitched battle, the Utah War has been characterized as “bloodless.” But the atrocity at Mountain Meadows made it far from bloodless.

As the troops were making their way west in the summer of 1857, so were thousands of overland emigrants. Some of these emigrants were Latter-day Saint converts en route to Utah, but most westbound emigrants were headed for California, many with large herds of cattle. The emigration season brought many wagon companies to Utah just as Latter-day Saints were preparing for what they believed would be a hostile military invasion. The Saints had been violently driven from Missouri and Illinois in the prior two decades, and they feared history might repeat itself.

Church President and territorial governor Brigham Young and his advisers formed policies based on that perception. They instructed the people to save their grain and prepare to cache it in the mountains in case they needed to flee there when the troops arrived. Not a kernel of grain was to be wasted or sold to merchants or passing emigrants. The people were also to save their ammunition and get their firearms in working order, and the territory’s militiamen were put on alert to defend the territory against the approaching troops if necessary.

These orders and instructions were shared with leaders throughout the territory. Elder George A. Smith of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles carried them to southern Utah. He, Brigham Young, and other leaders preached with fiery rhetoric against the enemy they perceived in the approaching army and sought the alliance of Indians in resisting the troops.

These wartime policies exacerbated tensions and conflict between California-bound emigrants and Latter-day Saint settlers as wagon trains passed through Utah’s settlements. Emigrants became frustrated when they were unable to resupply in the territory as they had expected to do. They had a difficult time purchasing grain and ammunition, and their herds, some of which included hundreds of cattle, had to compete with local settlers’ cattle for limited feed and water along the trail.

Some traditional Utah histories of what occurred at Mountain Meadows have accepted the claim that poisoning also contributed to conflict—that the Arkansas emigrants deliberately poisoned a spring and an ox carcass near the central Utah town of Fillmore, causing illness and death among local Indians. According to this story, the Indians became enraged and followed the emigrants to the Mountain Meadows, where they either committed the atrocities on their own or forced fearful Latter-day Saint settlers to join them in the attack. Historical research shows that these stories are not accurate.

While it is true that some of the emigrants’ cattle were dying along the trail, including near Fillmore, the deaths appear to be the result of a disease that affected cattle herds on the 1850s overland trails. Humans contracted the disease from infected animals through cuts or sores or through eating the contaminated meat. Without this modern understanding, people suspected the problem was caused by poisoning.

Escalating Tensions
The plan to attack the emigrant company originated with local Church leaders in Cedar City, who had recently been alerted that U.S. troops might enter at any time through southern Utah’s passes. Cedar City was the last place on the route to California for grinding grain and buying supplies, but here again the emigrants were stymied. Badly needed goods weren’t available in the town store, and the miller charged a whole cow—an exorbitant price—to grind a few dozen bushels of grain. Weeks of frustration boiled over, and in the rising tension one emigrant man reportedly claimed he had a gun that killed Joseph Smith. Others threatened to join the incoming federal troops against the Saints. Alexander Fancher, captain of the emigrant train, rebuked these men on the spot.

The men’s statements were most likely idle threats made in the heat of the moment, but in the charged environment of 1857, Cedar City’s leaders took the men at their word. The town marshal tried to arrest some of the emigrants on charges of public intoxication and blasphemy but was forced to back down. The wagon company made its way out of town after only about an hour, but the agitated Cedar City leaders were not willing to let the matter go. Instead they planned to call out the local militia to pursue and arrest the offending men and probably fine them some cattle. Beef and grain were foods the Saints planned to survive on if they had to flee into the mountains when the troops arrived.

Cedar City mayor, militia major, and stake president Isaac Haight described the grievances against the emigrant men and requested permission to call out the militia in an express dispatch to the district militia commander, William Dame, who lived in nearby Parowan. Dame was also the stake president of Parowan. After convening a council to discuss the matter, Dame denied the request. “Do not notice their threats,” his dispatch back to Cedar City said. “Words are but wind—they injure no one; but if they (the emigrants) commit acts of violence against citizens inform me by express, and such measures will be adopted as will insure tranquility.”

Still intent on chastening the emigrants, Cedar City leaders then formulated a new plan. If they could not use the militia to arrest the offenders, they would persuade local Paiute Indians to give the Arkansas company “a brush,” killing some or all of the men and stealing their cattle.

They planned the attack for a portion of the California trail that ran through a narrow stretch of the Santa Clara River canyon several miles south of the Mountain Meadows. These areas fell under the jurisdiction of Fort Harmony militia major John D. Lee, who was pulled into the planning. Lee was also a federally funded “Indian farmer” to local Paiutes. Lee and Haight had a long, late-night discussion about the emigrants in which Lee told Haight he believed the Paiutes would “kill all the party, women and children, as well as the men” if incited to attack. Haight agreed, and the two planned to lay blame for the killing at the feet of the Indians.

The generally peaceful Paiutes were reluctant when first told of the plan. Although Paiutes occasionally picked off emigrants’ stock for food, they did not have a tradition of large-scale attacks. But Cedar City’s leaders promised them plunder and convinced them that the emigrants were aligned with “enemy” troops who would kill Indians along with Mormon settlers.

On Sunday, September 6, Haight presented the plan to a council of local leaders who held Church, civic, and military positions. The plan was met with stunned resistance by those hearing it for the first time, sparking heated debate. Finally, council members asked Haight if he had consulted with President Young about the matter. Saying he hadn’t, Haight agreed to send an express rider to Salt Lake City with a letter explaining the situation and asking what should be done.

A Five-Day Siege
But the next day, shortly before Haight sent the letter to Brigham Young, Lee and the Indians made a premature attack on the emigrant camp at the Mountain Meadows, rather than at the planned location in the Santa Clara canyon. Several of the emigrants were killed, but the remainder fought off their attackers, forcing a retreat. The emigrants quickly pulled their wagons into a tight circle, holing up inside the defensive corral. Two other attacks followed over the next two days of a five-day siege.

After the initial attack, two Cedar City militiamen, thinking it necessary to contain the volatile situation, fired on two emigrant horsemen discovered a few miles outside the corral. They killed one of the riders, but the other escaped to the emigrant camp, bringing with him the news that his companion’s killers were white men, not Indians.

The conspirators were now caught in their web of deception. Their attack on the emigrants had faltered. Their military commander would soon know they had blatantly disobeyed his orders. A less-than-forthcoming dispatch to Brigham Young was on its way to Salt Lake City. A witness of white involvement had now shared the news within the emigrant corral. If the surviving emigrants were freed and continued on to California, word would quickly spread that Mormons had been involved in the attack. An army was already approaching the territory, and if news of their role in the attack got out, the conspirators believed, it would result in retaliatory military action that would threaten their lives and the lives of their people. In addition, other California-bound emigrant trains were expected to arrive at Cedar City and then the Mountain Meadows any day.

Ignoring the Council’s Decision
On September 9 Haight traveled to Parowan with Elias Morris, who was one of Haight’s two militia captains as well as his counselor in the stake presidency. Again they sought Dame’s permission to call out the militia, and again Dame held a Parowan council, which decided that men should be sent to help the beleaguered emigrants continue on their way in peace. Haight later lamented, “I would give a world if I had it, if we had abided by the deci[s]ion of the council.”

Instead, when the meeting ended, Haight and his counselor got Dame alone, sharing with him information they had not shared with the council: the corralled emigrants probably knew that white men had been involved in the initial attacks. They also told Dame that most of the emigrants had already been killed in these attacks. This information caused Dame, now isolated from the tempering consensus of his council, to rethink his earlier decision. Tragically, he gave in, and when the conversation ended, Haight left feeling he had permission to use the militia.

On arriving at Cedar City, Haight immediately called out some two dozen militiamen, most of them officers, to join others already waiting near the emigrant corral at the Mountain Meadows. Those who had deplored vigilante violence against their own people in Missouri and Illinois were now about to follow virtually the same pattern of violence against others, but on a deadlier scale

The Massacre
On Friday, September 11, Lee entered the emigrant wagon fort under a white flag and somehow convinced the besieged emigrants to accept desperate terms. He said the militia would safely escort them past the Indians and back to Cedar City, but they must leave their possessions behind and give up their weapons, signaling their peaceful intentions to the Indians. The suspicious emigrants debated what to do but in the end accepted the terms, seeing no better alternative. They had been pinned down for days with little water, the wounded in their midst were dying, and they did not have enough ammunition to fend off even one more attack.

As directed, the youngest children and wounded left the wagon corral first, driven in two wagons, followed by women and children on foot. The men and older boys filed out last, each escorted by an armed militiaman. The procession marched for a mile or so until, at a prearranged signal, each militiaman turned and shot the emigrant next to him, while Indians rushed from their hiding place to attack the terrified women and children. Militiamen with the two front-running wagons murdered the wounded. Despite plans to pin the massacre on the Paiutes—and persistent subsequent efforts to do so—Nephi Johnson later maintained that his fellow militiamen did most of the killing.

Communication—Too Late
President Young’s express message of reply to Haight, dated September 10, arrived in Cedar City two days after the massacre. His letter reported recent news that no U.S. troops would be able to reach the territory before winter. “So you see that the Lord has answered our prayers and again averted the blow designed for our heads,” he wrote.
“In regard to emigration trains passing through our settlements,” Young continued, “we must not interfere with them untill they are first notified to keep away. You must not meddle with them. The Indians we expect will do as they please but you should try and preserve good feelings with them. There are no other trains going south that I know of[.] [I]f those who are there will leave let them go in peace. While we should be on the alert, on hand and always ready we should also possess ourselves in patience, preserving ourselves and property ever remembering that God rules.” 
When Haight read Young’s words, he sobbed like a child and could manage only the words, “Too late, too late.”

Aftermath
The 17 spared children, considered “too young to tell tales,” were adopted by local families. Government officials retrieved the children in 1859 and returned them to family members in Arkansas. The massacre snuffed out some 120 lives and immeasurably affected the lives of the surviving children and other relatives of the victims. A century and a half later, the massacre remains a deeply painful subject for their descendants and other relatives.

Although Brigham Young and other Church leaders in Salt Lake City learned of the massacre soon after it happened, their understanding of the extent of the settlers’ involvement and the terrible details of the crime came incrementally over time. In 1859 they released from their callings stake president Isaac Haight and other prominent Church leaders in Cedar City who had a role in the massacre. In 1870 they excommunicated Isaac Haight and John D. Lee from the Church.

In 1874 a territorial grand jury indicted nine men for their role in the massacre. Most of them were eventually arrested, though only Lee was tried, convicted, and executed for the crime. Another indicted man turned state’s evidence, and others spent many years running from the law. Other militiamen who carried out the massacre labored the rest of their lives under a horrible sense of guilt and recurring nightmares of what they had done and seen.[viii]

Learning from the Lessons of History
"Therefore, what?" is the question we might ask. The clear answer is that if we fail to learn the lessons of history we are doomed to repeat it. Several important themes emerge from the story of the Utah War: 

1. Speak peace, not hostility. With the hindsight of history, we see that righteous indignation for a cause or crusade can spark hostility or even violence toward fellow human beings. In a modern application of this idea, social media allows us to share our views, but we must remember to speak peaceably of our brothers and sisters, even if they are imperfect. Hostile words always produce victims, and there are always social consequences toward purveyors of gossip.

2. Remember there are at least two sides to every issue, and good decisions come from good information. In retrospect, it would have been wise for President Buchanan to hear Governor Young's side of things before sending a hostile force to replace him. Applying this to our lives, when we overhear one side of an argument, we would be wise to seek out and hear the other side, developing a more accurate and complete view of the situation. Only then are we prepared to take tentative steps toward peace.

3. Recall that people view things through the lenses of past experiences. Governor Young and other leaders had been cast out of Missouri and Illinois into the wilderness of Utah. They saw a silent army approaching them as a threat and took what they considered to be appropriate defensive measures. What this suggests today is that we do not always understand why other people react the way they do until we talk to them about why they feel as they do.

4. When strong emotions rule, counsel with wise friends and leaders and do not act rashly. Isaac Haight started out right by counseling with friends and trusted leaders, but then he disregarded counsel and chose a rash and vengeful action. He later regretted charging forward before listening to Governor Young's counsel. In settings where emotions run deep, we must take opportunities to counsel with wise friends and then act calmly, patiently, and without vengeance.

For other applications of these lessons, see the excellent home-study lesson shared by Seminaries and Institutes here.

Notes

[i] William P. MacKinnon, “The Utah War and Its Mountain Meadows Massacre: Lessons Learned, Surprises Encountered,” FARMS Review 20, no. 2 (2008): 239–40, http://publications.maxwellinstitute.byu.edu/publications/review/20/2/S00010-5176a44954a5710MacKinnon.pdf.
[ii] MacKinnon, “Utah War,” 240–41, 244.
[iii] MacKinnon, “Utah War,” 245.
[iv] MacKinnon, “Utah War,” 246.
[v] MacKinnon, “Utah War,” 245–46.
[vi] MacKinnon, “Utah War,” 243.
[vii] “Peace and Violence among 19th-Century Latter-day Saints,” https://www.lds.org/topics/peace-and-violence-among-19th-century-latter-day-saints?lang=eng.
[viii] Richard E. Turley Jr., “The Mountain Meadows Massacre,” Ensign, September 2007, https://www.lds.org/ensign/2007/09/the-mountain-meadows-massacre?lang=eng.

Monday, May 26, 2014

Henry Wells Jackson, Mormon Battalion and Civil War Veteran

Statue at San Diego Mormon Battalion Historic Site
Henry Wells Jackson was a wandering Mormon hero who was motivated by duty to God, country, and family. His life was marked by many significant firsts.[1] He was among the first to march west to California in the Mormon Battalion, the first U.S. military unit based on religious affiliation. He was among the first to pan for gold only weeks after its discovery at Sutter’s sawmill. He served in Utah’s early territorial militia and mail service between Utah and California. Years later, he was commissioned a Union lieutenant in the Civil War and was shot by Confederates while leading an assault on a railroad bridge, becoming the first Latter-day Saint known to be killed in an American national war. He was the Civil War’s first and only battle fatality from Utah.[2] This essay will focus on his service in the Mormon Battalion and then reenlistment in the Mormon Volunteers. An expanded version will be delivered at the Mormon History Association's annual meeting in San Antonio, Texas, on June 6, 2014. This year marks 150 years since Lt. Jackson's death.

Captain James Allen

Mormon Battalion Service


On July 1, 1846, at Council Bluffs, Iowa, Captain James Allen of the U.S. Army met with Brigham Young to recruit five hundred Mormon men to march west to California in support of the war against Mexico.[3] Some twelve thousand Latter-day Saints were scattered across Iowa, and initially many of the potential recruits fiercely opposed serving a federal government that had forsaken them. They had been expelled first from Missouri and then Illinois.

John Steele recorded his strong opposition to fighting for the United States: “I will see them in hell before I will fire one shot against a foreigner for . . . those who have mobbed, robbed, plundered and destroyed us all the day long and now seek to enslave us to fight for them.”[4]
  
President Young, however, saw providence in this offer. Months earlier he had sent his nephew Jesse C. Little to the nation’s capital to seek financial opportunities for emigration, charging him, “as a wise and faithful man, [to] take every honorable advantage of the times you can.”[5] At the encouragement of non-Mormon advocate Thomas L. Kane,[6] Little wrote to President James K. Polk on June 1, explaining the Saints’ intent to go west and hinting that they wanted to remain loyal to the United States but might look for help from foreign governments. President Polk wanted to maintain the balance of power in California and authorized Colonel Stephen W. Kearny to form a battalion to march to California.[7]

President Young urged the men to enlist and donate their funds to help the Saints move west. One recruit, Daniel B. Rawson, recorded his change of heart: “I felt indignant toward the Government that had suffered me to be raided and driven from my home. . . . I would not enlist. [Then] we met President Brigham Young, Heber C. Kimball and [Willard] Richards . . . calling for recruits. They said the salvation of Israel depended upon the raising of the army. When I heard this my mind changed. I felt that it was my duty to go.”[8] Nineteen-year-old convert Henry Wells Jackson also heeded the call to serve and consecrated his earnings. He enlisted as a fife player in Company D along with Rawson and the newly softened Steele.[9]
 
Henry likely viewed this military service as a grand adventure.That sense of adventure must have worn thin, however, as the footsore battalion marched some nineteen hundred miles through the deserts of the Southwest—from Council Bluffs to Fort Leavenworth, Kansas Territory; to Santa Fe, New Mexico. The journey was arduous. Three sick detachments traveled north to Pueblo, Colorado. Meanwhile, often marching without enough food and water, the rest of the battalion created a wagon road from Santa Fe to the Pima Indian villages in Arizona.


Wagon road through Box Canyon, Anza-Borrego Desert State Park.

Courtesy of Mike Stangeman.


Final Approach to San Diego

Sgt. Daniel Tyler recorded the difficult final approach to the San Diego area in the Anzo-Borrego region: “We here found the heaviest sand, hottest days and coldest nights, with no water and but little food. . . . At the time the men were nearly barefooted; some used, instead of shoes, rawhide wrapped around their feet, while others improvised a novel style of boots by stripping the skin from the leg of an ox. . . . Others wrapped cast-off clothing around their feet.”[10] 



On January 19, 1847, Box Canyon had to be widened so the wagons could pass. Tyler recorded: As we traveled up the dry bed, the chasm became more contracted until we found ourselves in a passage at least a foot narrower than our wagons. Nearly all of our road tools, such as picks, shovels, spades, etc., had been lost in the boat disaster [at Yuma, Arizona]. The principal ones remaining were a few axes, . . . a small crow bar, and perhaps a spade or two. These were brought into requisition, the commander [Philip St. George Cooke] taking an ax and assisting the pioneers.”[11]
Philip St. George Cooke





On January 27, the battalion boys cheered when they saw the Pacific.[12] Their long march ended on January 29, and they camped about five miles north of San Diego. The day after arriving, Lt. Col. Philip St. George Cooke praised their endurance: “History may be searched in vain for an equal march of infantry. . . . With crowbar and pick and ax in hand we have worked our way over mountains which seemed to defy aught save the wild goat, and hewed a passage through a chasm of living rock more narrow than our wagons.”[13] His remarks were “cheered heartily.”[14] Through their hardships, they had formed a wagon road to the Pacific and helped define the southern boundary of the United States.[15]  


Flag Raising at Fort Moore, Los Angeles, July 4, 1847


Peacekeeping and Construction

For the next five months in southern California, they performed occupation duties. They served as a reliable unit to block John C. Frémont’s unauthorized bid to control California. They built Fort Moore in Los Angeles and managed to complete it in time to celebrate California's first Fourth of July celebration.[16] Toward the end of their service, the U.S. Army desperately sought their reenlistment to provide military stability. Chief among those recruiters was their latest commanding officer, Colonel Jonathan D. Stevenson, who delivered a flattering speech on June 22. Robert Bliss summarized the speech in his journal: “Gave us the praise of being the best company in the Southern Division of California; the most intelligent & correct Soldiers. Said we were universally esteemed & respected by the inhabitants & in Short we had done more for California than any other people.”[17] 

The Mormon Volunteers in San Diego

The battalion was mustered out in Los Angeles on July 16, 1847. Henry was among eighty-one Mormons who reenlisted as a company of Mormon Volunteers and served eight more months.[18] He had no family on the way to Utah, so he likely reenlisted to earn more money and continue providing military stability. Many of those who reenlisted were either unmarried or reenlisted for financial reasons. The Mormon Volunteers reenlisted only on condition that they be discharged by March 1848, allowing time to plant crops in the Salt Lake Valley, and that they be furnished with pay and rations for their trek.[19]
 
Replica uniform of Seventh New York Regiment of Volunteers. Courtesy of Paul A. Hoffman.

Most of this ragged little company, including Henry, began serving in San Diego, where they were newly attired in uniforms belonging to the Seventh New York Regiment of Volunteers.[20] With Captain Daniel C. Davis in command, one of their first duties was to remodel the leaky pueblo barracks. They also helped keep the peace and constructed a brick courthouse. Col. Richard B. Mason, acting military governor of California, offered high praise: “Of their services . . . , of their patience, subordination, and general good conduct, you have already heard, and I take great pleasure in adding, that, as a body of men, they have religiously respected the rights and feelings of these conquered people, and not a syllable of complaint has reached my ears of a single insult offered, or outrage done, by a Mormon volunteer.”[21] Although a few of the men were dishonest, the battalion's overall service was exemplary.

Reconstructed Sutter's sawmill and millrace

During this period of service, several battalion boys traveled northward to work for John Sutter, digging the millrace where gold was discovered on January 24, 1848. Less than two months later, on March 14, the Mormon Volunteers disbanded, and Henry joined the battalion boys at nearby Mormon Island (now under Folsom Lake), where he panned for gold for about a year. He and many other battalion members made substantial deposits in the Utah gold account, an important resource to back the early Utah currency.[22] Historian Kenneth N. Owens concludes that “without the 1848 gold discovery and the rush for riches that followed, the development of the LDS church and community in the Great Basin must certainly have taken an alternative course. The difficult economic challenges the Saints faced in their valley in the mountains would have intensified.”[23] 

Early Mormon currency


As Brigham Young predicted two years earlier, the Mormon Battalion became “the salvation of Israel.” They consecrated money that helped the emigrating Saints. They created important roads that paved the way for future settlement of the Southwest. They helped stabilize California. They deposited gold that shored up Utah's fledgling economy. And they become confident frontiersman who helped colonize the western United States.

Notes

[1] Henry Wells Jackson was born in Chemung, Chemung County, New York, on March 10, 1827, to William Jackson (1787–1869) and Mary Troy (1795–1838). Henry and his brother James joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in New York and moved to Nauvoo, Illinois.
[2] Henry Wells Jackson’s life story is briefly summarized in Robert C. Freeman, “Latter-day Saints in the Civil War,” in Civil War Saints, ed. Kenneth L. Alford (Provo, UT: Religious Studies Center; Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 2012), 280–81.
[3] The causes of the war and the Mormon Battalion’s involvement are detailed in Sherman L. Fleek, History May Be Searched in Vain: A Military History of the Mormon Battalion (Spokane, WA: Arthur H. Clark, 2006).
[4] John Steele, “Extracts from the Journal of John Steele,” Utah Historical Quarterly 6, no. 1 (1933): 6–7, in Fleek, History May Be Searched in Vain, 54.
[5] Jesse C. Little’s report as cited in B. H. Roberts, A Comprehensive History of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Salt Lake City: Deseret News Press, 1930), 3:67.
[6] On May 13, 1846, Kane attended a Mormon conference in Philadelphia where Jesse C. Little was speaking. Thus began Kane’s lifelong advocacy for the Mormons’ cause. See Matthew J. Grow, “Liberty to the Downtrodden”: Thomas L. Kane, Romantic Reformer (New Haven, CT: Yale, 2009), 47–56.
[7] See David L. Bigler and Will Bagley, eds., Army of Israel: Mormon Battalion Narratives (Logan: Utah State University Press, 2000), 31–37.
[8] Daniel B. Rawson, as cited in Norma Baldwin Ricketts, The Mormon Battalion: U.S. Army of the West, 1846–1848 (Logan: Utah State University Press, 1996), 13.
[9] This telling of Henry Jackson’s life story relies heavily on two family histories: The Story of Eliza Ann Dibble and Her Three Husbands, Orson Spencer, Henry W. Jackson, and Julius A. C. Austin, comp. Marilyn Austin Smith (n.p., 1995) and “Hidden Personalities among Mormon Battalion Members,” by Don Smith; https://familysearch.org/photos/stories/1079244/daniel-browett-hidden-personalities-among-mormon-battalion.
[10] Daniel Tyler, A Concise History of the Mormon Battalion in the Mexican War, 1846–1847 (Salt Lake City: n.p., 1881), 244–45.
[11] Tyler, Concise History, 248. This wagon road became part of the Butterfield Overland Mail Route.
[12] Tyler, Concise History, 252.
[13] Lt. Col. Philip St. George Cooke, Order No. 1, quoted in Bigler and Bagley, Army of Israel, 17.
[14] Tyler, Concise History, 255.
[15] See Michael N. Landon and Brandon J. Metcalf, History of the Saints: The Remarkable Journey of the Mormon Battalion (American Fork, UT: Covenant Communications, 2012), 7.
[16] For more detail, see Fleek, History May Be Searched in Vain, 321–23.
[17] Robert S. Bliss, “The Journal of Robert S. Bliss, with the Mormon Battalion,” Utah Historical Quarterly 4 (July/October 1931): 96.
[18] Although Col. Stevenson, 7th New York Regiment of Volunteers, was glad when some of the battalion members agreed to reenlist, he privately confided to Col. Mason, military governor of California, worries that they might try to take over southern California to aid their Utah settlement. See confidential letter, Col. J. D. Stevenson to Governor Mason, July 23, 1847, Records of the 10th Military Department, 1846–1851, National Archives Microfilm Publication, microcopy 210, roll 2.
[19] John F. Yurtinus, “The Mormon Volunteers: The Recruitment and Service of a Unique Military Company,” Journal of San Diego History 25, no. 3 (Summer 1979): 242–61.
[20] Col. J. D. Stevenson, 7th New York Regiment of Volunteers, wrote to Col. R. B. Mason, July 23, 1847, stating that the reenlisted members of the Mormon Battalion were dressed “from cap to shoe, in the uniform of my Regiment.” In Charles Hughes, ed., “A Military View of San Diego in 1847: Four Letters from Colonel Jonathan D. Stevenson to Governor Richard B. Mason,” Journal of San Diego History 20, no. 3 (September 1974): 33–43.
[21] Richard B. Mason to General R. Jones, Sen. Exec. Doc. 18 (31-1), Serial 557, 318–22, in Bigler and Bagley, Army of Israel, 394–95.
[22] Henry Jackson’s deposits to the Utah gold accounts are listed by amount in J. Kenneth Davies and Lorin K. Hansen, Mormon Gold: Mormons in the California Gold Rush, 2nd ed. (North Salt Lake City: Granite Mountain, 2010), 83–84, 153. For a discussion of Mormon Battalion involvement in the gold rush, see Kenneth Owens, “Far from Zion: The Frayed Ties between California’s Gold Rush Saints and LDS President Brigham Young,” California History 89, no. 4 (2012): 5–23.
[23] Kenneth N. Owens, Gold Rush Saints: California Mormons and the Great Rush for Riches (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 2004), 369.

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