Works of Jules Verne/Round the World in Eighty Days/Chapter 27
CHAPTER XXVII
IN WHICH PASSEPARTOUT FOLLOWS, WITH A SPEED OF TWENTY MILES AN HOUR, A COURSE OF MORMON HISTORY
During the night of the 5th to the 6th of December, the train went for fifty miles to the southeast, then it ran upwards about as far northerly, approaching the Great Salt Lake.
Passepartout, about nine o'clock in the morning, went on the platform to take the air. The weather was cold, the sky gray, but it had stopped snowing. The disc of the sun, enlarged by the mist, looked like an enormous piece of gold, and Passepartout was busy calculating its value in pounds sterling, when his attention was taken from this useful work by the appearance of a very strange personage.
This personage, who took the train at Elko Station, was tall, very brown, had black mustache, black stockings, a black silk hat, black waistcoat, black pantaloons, white cravat, and black dog-skin gloves. He might have been taken for a clergyman. He went from one end of the train to the other, and on the door of each car fastened with wafers a written notice.
Passepartout approached and read on one of these notices that Elder William Hitch, taking advantage of his presence on train No. 48, would, from eleven to twelve o'clock, deliver an address on Mormonism in car No. 117—inviting to hear him all desirous of being instructed concerning the mysteries of the religion of the "Latter Day Saints."
"Certainly, I will go," said Passepartout to himself, who knew nothing of Mormonism but its custom of polygamy, the base of Mormon society.
The news spread rapidly through the train, which carried about one hundred passengers. Of this number thirty at most, attracted by the notice of the meeting, occupied at eleven o'clock the seats in car No. 117. Passepartout was prominent in the front rank of the faithful. Neither his master nor Fix thought it worth while to take the trouble.
At the appointed hour Elder William Hitch rose, and in quite an irritated voice, as if he had been contradicted in advance, he cried, "I tell you that Joe Smith is a martyr, that his brother Hiram is a martyr, and that the persecution by the United States Government of the prophets will also make a martyr of Brigham Young. Who dares to maintain the contrary?"
No one ventured to contradict the missionary, whose excitement contrasted with his naturally calm physiognomy. But, without doubt, his anger was explained by the fact that Mormonism was now subjected to severe trials. The United States Government had, not without difficulty, just reduced these independent fanatics. It had made itself master of Utah, and had subjected it to the laws of the Union, after imprisoning Brigham Young, accused of rebellion and polygamy. Since that period, the disciples of the prophet redoubled their efforts, and whilst not coming to acts, resisted in words the demands of Congress.
We see that Elder William Hitch was trying to proselyte even on the trains. And then he related, emphasizing his narrative by his loud voice and the violence of his gestures, the history of Mormonism from Bible times, how in Israel, a Mormon prophet of the tribe of Joseph, published the annals of the new religion and bequeathed them to his son Morom; how, many centuries later, a translation of this precious book, written in Egyptian characters, was made by Joseph Smith, Jr., a farmer in the State of Vermont, who revealed himself as a mystical prophet in 1825; how, finally, a celestial messenger appeared to him in an illumi- nated forest and gave him the annals of the Lord.
At this moment, some of his hearers, not much interested in the retrospective narrative of the missionary, left the car; but William Hitch, continuing, related how Smith, Jr., with his father, his two brothers, and a few disciples, founded the religion of the Latter Day Saints—a religon which, adopted not only in America, but in England, in Scandinavia, and in Germany, counts among its faithful, artisans and also a number of people engaged in the liberal professions; how a colony was founded in Ohio; how a temple was built at a cost of two hundred thousand dollars, and a city built at Kirkland; how Smith became an enterprising banker and received from a simple mummy showman a papyrus scroll containing a narrative written by Abraham and other celebrated Egyptians.
This narrative becoming a little long, the ranks of his hearers thinned out still more, and the audience only consisted of twenty persons. But the Elder, undisturbed by this desertion, related the details of how Joe Smith became bankrupt in 1837; how his ruined stockholders gave him a coat of tar and feathers; how he appeared again, more honorable and more honored than ever, a few years after, at Independence, in Missouri, at the head of a flourishing community, which counted not less than three thousand disciples; and that then, pursued by the hatred of the Gentiles, he had to fly to the far West.
Ten hearers were still there, and among them the honest Passepartout, who listened with all his ears. Thus he learned how, after long persecutions, Smith reappeared in Illinois, and in 1839 founded, on the banks of the Mississippi, Nauvoo the beautiful, whose population rose to twenty-five thousand souls; how Smith became the Mayor, Chief Justice, and General-in-Chief; how in 1843 he announced himself as candidate for the Presidency of the United States; and how finally, he was drawn into an ambuscade at Carthage, thrown into prison, and assassinated by a band of masked men.
At this moment Passepartout was the only hearer in the car, and the Elder, looking him in the face, fascinating him by the words, recalled to his mind that, two years after the assassination of Smith, his successor, the inspired prophet Brigham Young, leaving Nauvoo, established himself on the banks of Salt Lake, and that there, in that splendid Territory, in the midst of that fertile country, on the road which the emigrants take in crossing Utah to reach California, the new colony, thanks to the Mormon principles of polygamy, had increased enormously.
"And this," added William Hitch, "is why the jealousy of Congress has been aroused against us! why the United States soldiers have invaded the soil of Utah! why our chief, the prophet Brigham Young, has been imprisoned in defiance of all justice. Shall we give up to force? Never! Driven from Vermont, driven from Illinois, driven from Ohio, driven from Missouri, driven from Utah, we shall find some independent territory yet where we shall pitch our tents. And you my brother," added the Elder, fixing his angry look on his single hearer, "will you plant yours in the shadow of our flag?"
"No," replied Passepartout bravely, flying in his turn, leaving the fanatic to preach in the desert.
But, during this discourse, the train had advanced rapidly, and about half-past twelve it touched the northwest corner of the Great Salt Lake. Thence could be embraced in a vast circumference the aspect of this inland lake, which also bears the name of the Dead Sea, and into which empties an American Jordan. A beautiful lake, hemmed in by craggy rocks of broad surface, encrusted with white salt, a superb sheet of water which formerly covered a larger space; but in time, its shores, rising by degrees, reduced its superficial area and increased its depth.
The Salt Lake, about seventy miles long, and thirty-five wide, is situated three thousand eight hundred feet above the level of the sea. It holds considerable salt in solution, and one-fourth the weight of the water is solid matter. Its specific gravity is 1,170, that of distilled water being 1,000. Fishes cannot live in it. Those that the Jordan, Weber, and other creeks, carry into it soon perish; but it is not true that the density of its waters is such that a man cannot dive into it.
Around the lake the country was admirably tilled; for the Mormons understand agricultural pursuits; ranches and corrals for domestic animals; fields of wheat, corn, sorghum, luxuriant prairies, and everywhere hedges of wild roses, clumps of acacias and euphorbias, such would have been the appearance of this country six months later; but at this moment the ground was covered with a thin sheet of snow, descending lightly upon it.
At two o'clock the travelers got out at Ogden. The train stopping for six hours, Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and their two companions had time to repair to the City of the Saints by the short branch from Ogden. Two hours were sufficient to visit this absolutely American town, and as such, built after the pattern of all the cities of the Union, vast checker-boards with long cold lines, "with the somber sadness of right angles," according to Victor Hugo's expression. The founder of the City of the Saints could not escape from the need of symmetry which distinguishes the Anglo-Saxons. In this singular country, where the men are certainly not up to the level of their institutions, everything is done "squarely," cities, houses, and follies.
At three o'clock, the travelers were promenading through the streets of the town, built between the banks of the Jordon and the first rise of the Wahsatch Mountains. They noticed there few or no churches, but as monuments, the prophet's house, the court-house, and the arsenal; then houses of bluish bricks with verandas and porches, surrounded by gardens bordered with acacias, palms and locusts. A wall of clay and pebbles, built in 1853, surrounded the town. In the principal street, where the market is, were some hotels adorned with pavilions, and among others Salt Lake House.
Mr. Fogg and his companions did not find the town thickly peopled. The streets were almost deserted, save perhaps the part where the Temple was, which they reached only after having traversed several quarters surrounded by palisades. The women were pretty numerous, which was explained by the singular composition of Mormon households. It must not be supposed, however, that all Mormons are polygamists. They are free, but it is well to remark that all the females in Utah are anxious to be married; for, according to the religion of the country, the Mormon heaven does not admit to the possession of its beatitudes the unmarried of the feminine sex. These poor creatures neither seemed well off, nor happy. Some, the richer ones, doubtless, wore a short, low-cut, black silk dress, under a hood or a very modest shawl. The others were dressed in Indian fashion.
Passepartout, in his position as one convinced, did not regard without a certain fright these Mormon women, charged, in groups, with making a single Mormon happy. With his good sense, it was the husband whom he specially pitied. It seemed to him terrible to have to guide so many wives at once through the vicissitudes of life, conduct them, as it were, in a body to the Mormon paradise, with the prospect of finding them to all eternity in the company of the glorious Smith, who was to be the ornament of this place of delights. Certainly, he did not feel called, and he thought—perhaps he was mistaken—that the women of Salt Lake City cast rather embarrassing looks at his person.
Very fortunately, his stay in the City of the Saints was not prolonged. At a few minutes past four o'clock the travelers were again at the station, and took their seats in the cars.
The whistle sounded; but at the moment that the driving-wheels of the locomotive, slipping upon the rails, commenced to impart some movement to the train, the cry, "Stop! stop!" was heard.
They do not stop trains just started. The gentleman who uttered the cry was evidently a Mormon behind time. He was breathless from running. Fortunately for him the station had neither gates nor barriers. He rushed, then, on the track, jumped upon the steps of the last car, and fell, out of breath, on one of the seats.
Passepartout, who had followed with emotion the incidents of this gymnastic feat, went to look at the tardy one, in whom he took a lively interest, when he learned that this citizen of Utah had thus taken flight in consequence of a household scene.
When the Mormon had recovered his breath, Passepartout ventured to ask him politely how many wives he had to himself—and from the manner in which he had just run away he would suppose that he had at least twenty of them.
"One, sir!" replied the Mormon, raising his arms heavenward—"One, and that was enough!"