Around the World in Eighty Days

by Jules Verne

  Chapter XXVII

  IN WHICH PASSEPARTOUT UNDERGOES, AT A SPEED OF TWENTY MILES AN HOUR, ACOURSE OF MORMON HISTORY

  During the night of the 5th of December, the train ran south-easterlyfor about fifty miles; then rose an equal distance in a north-easterlydirection, towards the Great Salt Lake.

  Passepartout, about nine o'clock, went out upon the platform to takethe air. The weather was cold, the heavens grey, but it was notsnowing. The sun's disc, enlarged by the mist, seemed an enormous ringof gold, and Passepartout was amusing himself by calculating its valuein pounds sterling, when he was diverted from this interesting study bya strange-looking personage who made his appearance on the platform.

  This personage, who had taken the train at Elko, was tall and dark,with black moustache, black stockings, a black silk hat, a blackwaistcoat, black trousers, a white cravat, and dogskin gloves. Hemight have been taken for a clergyman. He went from one end of thetrain to the other, and affixed to the door of each car a noticewritten in manuscript.

  Passepartout approached and read one of these notices, which statedthat Elder William Hitch, Mormon missionary, taking advantage of hispresence on train No. 48, would deliver a lecture on Mormonism in carNo. 117, from eleven to twelve o'clock; and that he invited all whowere desirous of being instructed concerning the mysteries of thereligion of the "Latter Day Saints" to attend.

  "I'll go," said Passepartout to himself. He knew nothing of Mormonismexcept the custom of polygamy, which is its foundation.

  The news quickly spread through the train, which contained about onehundred passengers, thirty of whom, at most, attracted by the notice,ensconced themselves in car No. 117. Passepartout took one of thefront seats. Neither Mr. Fogg nor Fix cared to attend.

  At the appointed hour Elder William Hitch rose, and, in an irritatedvoice, as if he had already been contradicted, said, "I tell you thatJoe Smith is a martyr, that his brother Hiram is a martyr, and that thepersecutions of the United States Government against the prophets willalso make a martyr of Brigham Young. Who dares to say the contrary?"

  No one ventured to gainsay the missionary, whose excited tonecontrasted curiously with his naturally calm visage. No doubt hisanger arose from the hardships to which the Mormons were actuallysubjected. The government had just succeeded, with some difficulty, inreducing these independent fanatics to its rule. It had made itselfmaster of Utah, and subjected that territory to the laws of the Union,after imprisoning Brigham Young on a charge of rebellion and polygamy.The disciples of the prophet had since redoubled their efforts, andresisted, by words at least, the authority of Congress. Elder Hitch,as is seen, was trying to make proselytes on the very railway trains.

  Then, emphasising his words with his loud voice and frequent gestures,he related the history of the Mormons from Biblical times: how that, inIsrael, a Mormon prophet of the tribe of Joseph published the annals ofthe new religion, and bequeathed them to his son Mormon; how, manycenturies later, a translation of this precious book, which was writtenin Egyptian, was made by Joseph Smith, junior, a Vermont farmer, whorevealed himself as a mystical prophet in 1825; and how, in short, thecelestial messenger appeared to him in an illuminated forest, and gavehim the annals of the Lord.

  Several of the audience, not being much interested in the missionary'snarrative, here left the car; but Elder Hitch, continuing his lecture,related how Smith, junior, with his father, two brothers, and a fewdisciples, founded the church of the "Latter Day Saints," which,adopted not only in America, but in England, Norway and Sweden, andGermany, counts many artisans, as well as men engaged in the liberalprofessions, among its members; how a colony was established in Ohio, atemple erected there at a cost of two hundred thousand dollars, and atown built at Kirkland; how Smith became an enterprising banker, andreceived from a simple mummy showman a papyrus scroll written byAbraham and several famous Egyptians.

  The Elder's story became somewhat wearisome, and his audience grewgradually less, until it was reduced to twenty passengers. But thisdid not disconcert the enthusiast, who proceeded with the story ofJoseph Smith's bankruptcy in 1837, and how his ruined creditors gavehim a coat of tar and feathers; his reappearance some years afterwards,more honourable and honoured than ever, at Independence, Missouri, thechief of a flourishing colony of three thousand disciples, and hispursuit thence by outraged Gentiles, and retirement into the Far West.

  Ten hearers only were now left, among them honest Passepartout, who waslistening with all his ears. Thus he learned that, after longpersecutions, Smith reappeared in Illinois, and in 1839 founded acommunity at Nauvoo, on the Mississippi, numbering twenty-five thousandsouls, of which he became mayor, chief justice, and general-in-chief;that he announced himself, in 1843, as a candidate for the Presidencyof the United States; and that finally, being drawn into ambuscade atCarthage, he was thrown into prison, and assassinated by a band of mendisguised in masks.

  Passepartout was now the only person left in the car, and the Elder,looking him full in the face, reminded him that, two years after theassassination of Joseph Smith, the inspired prophet, Brigham Young, hissuccessor, left Nauvoo for the banks of the Great Salt Lake, where, inthe midst of that fertile region, directly on the route of theemigrants who crossed Utah on their way to California, the new colony,thanks to the polygamy practised by the Mormons, had flourished beyondexpectations.

  "And this," added Elder William Hitch, "this is why the jealousy ofCongress has been aroused against us! Why have the soldiers of theUnion invaded the soil of Utah? Why has Brigham Young, our chief, beenimprisoned, in contempt of all justice? Shall we yield to force?Never! Driven from Vermont, driven from Illinois, driven from Ohio,driven from Missouri, driven from Utah, we shall yet find someindependent territory on which to plant our tents. And you, mybrother," continued the Elder, fixing his angry eyes upon his singleauditor, "will you not plant yours there, too, under the shadow of ourflag?"

  "No!" replied Passepartout courageously, in his turn retiring from thecar, and leaving the Elder to preach to vacancy.

  During the lecture the train had been making good progress, and towardshalf-past twelve it reached the northwest border of the Great SaltLake. Thence the passengers could observe the vast extent of thisinterior sea, which is also called the Dead Sea, and into which flowsan American Jordan. It is a picturesque expanse, framed in lofty cragsin large strata, encrusted with white salt--a superb sheet of water,which was formerly of larger extent than now, its shores havingencroached with the lapse of time, and thus at once reduced its breadthand increased its depth.

  The Salt Lake, seventy miles long and thirty-five wide, is situatedthree miles eight hundred feet above the sea. Quite different fromLake Asphaltite, whose depression is twelve hundred feet below the sea,it contains considerable salt, and one quarter of the weight of itswater is solid matter, its specific weight being 1,170, and, afterbeing distilled, 1,000. Fishes are, of course, unable to live in it,and those which descend through the Jordan, the Weber, and otherstreams soon perish.

  The country around the lake was well cultivated, for the Mormons aremostly farmers; while ranches and pens for domesticated animals, fieldsof wheat, corn, and other cereals, luxuriant prairies, hedges of wildrose, clumps of acacias and milk-wort, would have been seen six monthslater. Now the ground was covered with a thin powdering of snow.

  The train reached Ogden at two o'clock, where it rested for six hours,Mr. Fogg and his party had time to pay a visit to Salt Lake City,connected with Ogden by a branch road; and they spent two hours in thisstrikingly American town, built on the pattern of other cities of theUnion, like a checker-board, "with the sombre sadness of right-angles,"as Victor Hugo expresses it. The founder of the City of the Saintscould not escape from the taste for symmetry which distinguishes theAnglo-Saxons. In this strange country, where the people are certainlynot up to the level of their institutions, everything is done"squarely"--cities, houses, and follies.

  The travellers, then, were promenading, at t
hree o'clock, about thestreets of the town built between the banks of the Jordan and the spursof the Wahsatch Range. They saw few or no churches, but the prophet'smansion, the court-house, and the arsenal, blue-brick houses withverandas and porches, surrounded by gardens bordered with acacias,palms, and locusts. A clay and pebble wall, built in 1853, surroundedthe town; and in the principal street were the market and severalhotels adorned with pavilions. The place did not seem thicklypopulated. The streets were almost deserted, except in the vicinity ofthe temple, which they only reached after having traversed severalquarters surrounded by palisades. There were many women, which waseasily accounted for by the "peculiar institution" of the Mormons; butit must not be supposed that all the Mormons are polygamists. They arefree to marry or not, as they please; but it is worth noting that it ismainly the female citizens of Utah who are anxious to marry, as,according to the Mormon religion, maiden ladies are not admitted to thepossession of its highest joys. These poor creatures seemed to beneither well off nor happy. Some--the more well-to-do, no doubt--woreshort, open, black silk dresses, under a hood or modest shawl; otherswere habited in Indian fashion.

  Passepartout could not behold without a certain fright these women,charged, in groups, with conferring happiness on a single Mormon. Hiscommon sense pitied, above all, the husband. It seemed to him aterrible thing to have to guide so many wives at once across thevicissitudes of life, and to conduct them, as it were, in a body to theMormon paradise with the prospect of seeing them in the company of theglorious Smith, who doubtless was the chief ornament of that delightfulplace, to all eternity. He felt decidedly repelled from such avocation, and he imagined--perhaps he was mistaken--that the fair onesof Salt Lake City cast rather alarming glances on his person. Happily,his stay there was but brief. At four the party found themselves againat the station, took their places in the train, and the whistle soundedfor starting. Just at the moment, however, that the locomotive wheelsbegan to move, cries of "Stop! stop!" were heard.

  Trains, like time and tide, stop for no one. The gentleman who utteredthe cries was evidently a belated Mormon. He was breathless withrunning. Happily for him, the station had neither gates nor barriers.He rushed along the track, jumped on the rear platform of the train,and fell, exhausted, into one of the seats.

  Passepartout, who had been anxiously watching this amateur gymnast,approached him with lively interest, and learned that he had takenflight after an unpleasant domestic scene.

  When the Mormon had recovered his breath, Passepartout ventured to askhim politely how many wives he had; for, from the manner in which hehad decamped, it might be thought that he had twenty at least.

  "One, sir," replied the Mormon, raising his arms heavenward--"one, andthat was enough!"