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Chapter 7 - Polygamy Crusade
Chapter 7 - Polygamy Crusade
THE RELATIVELY SOFT and conciliatory tone of The Tribune's 1884 New Year's editorial proved to be a temporary lapse. Before the year's end the "irrepressible conflict" reached a new high in bitterness, and the journalistic spokesmen for the contending sides were striving for new lows in lacerating editorials.
On November 7, The Tribune, under a heading 'The Beast of the 'News' " started an editorial with this sentence: "The bastard in charge of the News again last evening filled his dreary columns with an attempt to convict a man before trial, to advertise a young girl's shame and everlasting disgrace, and to seek to make out that The Tribune was trying to conceal and apologize for a crime. . . ."
The News replied that evening in similar tone and phraseology, scoring a point with a less biting but more intriguing heading - "The 'Gentlemen' of the Tribune"
The reason for the upturn in venomous editorial exchanges was the beginning of the crusade to enforce the recently enacted anti-polygamy Edmunds Act. It was a crusade which, embarked upon, could scarcely be stopped without surrender by one side or the other. To The Tribune, "crusade" was an inappropriate term to describe the implementation of the new law. But that was the name it acquired in the histories of the era. To the editors of The Tribune it was a simple proposition of a theretofore spineless, indecisive federal government finally being forced by public opinion to enforce its laws in Utah Territory.
In the eyes of The Tribune publishers and editors, the Edmunds Act was the beginning of a governmental assault upon one aspect of an all-encompassing theocracy which was in revolt against the federal government; it was something the newspaper had been fighting for from the time Lockley and his associate "Border Ruffians" took control of the newspaper from the founding schismatic elders who were forced by economics to abandon their fight from within the church to change its economic and political policies; finally, it gave The Tribune and its allies a bludgeon which they unrestrainedly used over the ensuing decade to effectively assault all aspects of the system which they claimed had generated the "irrepressible conflict."
The importance of this bludgeon (polygamy and the Edmunds Act prosecutions) as a causative element in the conflict can easily be exaggerated, but its importance as a weapon and the extent of its use as such can hardly be exaggerated. Week after week and year after year The Tribune devoted more space to polygamy than to all the other issues of the battle combined. Naturally this concentration by the editors on what they deemed their most effective weapon is reflected in the history of the newspaper from the initiation of the crusade to the termination of church sanction of the practice of plural marriages.
While The Tribune could greet the federal government's campaign to enforce the anti-polygamy laws as a long step toward eventual victory, it became over the next several years an ordeal for all but the most insensitive and vindictive of Mormon-haters. It led to the hunting, harassing and imprisonment of women and their babies and of venerable old men whose lives The Tribune would concede had been exemplary except for a defiance of law dictated by religious conviction.
Orson F. Whitney, devout Mormon and later an apostle, wrote that those pressing the fight on polygamy were not scoundrels who found gratification in gloating over human suffering. They were motivated by a conviction that they had a duty, however unpleasant its performance might be, to bring obstinate law-breakers into conformity with law for the ultimate benefit of the territory and all its inhabitants. As Whitney pointed out, some of the Mormon-detested and gentile-admired federal officials were confronted with a problem which impelled them to accept the philosophy of Hamlet with respect to the Queen Mother: "I must be cruel in order to be kind" only to find themselves caught up in the unpleasantries of the second line of the couplet, "Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind."
Obviously The Tribune, many of its supporters and most of the federal officials embroiled in the Utah problem underestimated what was going to be required to break the polygamous system. They believed, and frequently expressed such belief, that once the leaders of the church were confronted with conviction and imprisonment they would recognize the hopelessness of their position, agree to abide by the law themselves, and advise their followers to do likewise, without necessarily repudiating polygamy as an ecclesiastical doctrine. This illusion was soon dispelled by the first prosecutions under the Edmunds Act.
The first case instituted under this law which actually came to trial was against Rudger Clawson, a young man then who later became a member of the Quorum of Twelve Apostles. The defense tried first to quash the indictment on grounds that the grand jury was invalid because of the exclusion of Mormons for their response to questions on their religious beliefs and attitudes toward polygamy. The motion to set aside the indictment was denied by Judge Charles S. Zane. Clawson then pleaded guilty to the charges (which were cohabitation and polygamy) and the trial was held beginning October 15, 1884. When the non-Mormon jury split eight for conviction and four for acquittal The Tribune, with characteristic bluntness and disregard for legal niceties, responded with this editorial:
THE BEAUTIFUL QUARTETTE
A week's work in the effort to bring a criminal to justice has miscarried through a failure on the part of the jury to agree. The dissenting jurors are Messrs. Woodman, Forbes, Loder and Scribner. In ordinary cases the public and the public press are careful about criticising the motives of men in reaching a conclusion as jurors. The circumstances which attended upon and surrounded this case make impossible a charitable conclusion as to the motives and convictions of the jurors who, by their decision declared that nothing has been established against Rudger Clawson. They did, in effect, what Rudger Clawson in his nastiness and his crime still had too much manliness to do; they declared him innocent. He, in his degradation and shame, had not the audacity to face the court and make the same claim for himself. They did what Lydia Spencer, when there was no alternative left except to conclude that she was either a wife or a kept mistress, had too much truth and womanhood to do; they, in effect, declared that she was a mistress. In their anxiety to shield Rudger Clawson from conviction of a crime which was charged and proved against him, they have convicted him of being an adulterer, and have charged adultery upon an innocent woman. . . .
The remainder of the long editorial was devoted to a review of the testimony and some uncomplimentary conclusions about motives of the dissenting jurors.
Six of the eight jurors who were for conviction came to the defense of their fellow jurors in this letter which was published in The Tribune:
Whitney footnotes in his history a report that two of the jurors — one favoring acquittal and the other conviction — got into a fist fight in the jury room. Whitney also assumes that it was the one favoring conviction from whom The Tribune drew its information on what took place in the jury room.
Clawson's defense counsel sought a postponement but the prosecution insisted upon immediate retrial of the case. Defense counsel then sought a change of venue on four grounds, the fourth being: "The Salt Lake Tribune, a paper widely circulated and very influential among non-Mormons, by its abuse of witnesses and jurors during and after the late trial, had aroused a bitter prejudice against the defendant, who therefore felt that he could not have a fair trial in this court."
The court overruled the motion, the case was retried and a non-Mormon jury took seventeen minutes to return a verdict of guilty. When Clawson appeared for sentencing and was asked by the judge if he had any "legal cause to show why judgment should not be pronounced upon him," he replied:
There it was, clearly and briefly stated. There was no room for compromise. The confrontation between church and federal government on this issue could be resolved only by capitulation on the part of one party or the other.
Judge Zane, according to historian Whitney, seemed to be taken by surprise. He remained silent for a minute or two and then said:
The sentence imposed was a fine of $500 and imprisonment for three years and six months for polygamy; and a fine of $300 and imprisonment for six months for unlawful cohabitation, the second term to begin after termination of the first.
The case was immediately appealed to the Supreme Court of the territory on a writ of habeas corpus and the decision of the trial court confirmed. The habeas corpus case was in turn appealed to the Supreme Court of the United States.
The Clawson case generated intense interest and received widespread attention primarily because of the timing, the fact that it was a test on both polygamy and cohabitation provisions, and because the defendant was a member of a prominent Mormon family. Incidentally, he served in the penitentiary longer than anyone else convicted during the crusade. This, in the society in which he lived, made him a man of distinction.
Some bigger fish were soon to be caught in the polygamy net. And one of the biggest was Lorenzo Snow, an apostle of the church and subsequently its president. He, like the members of the First Presidency, had gone into exile at the beginning of the crusade but returned secretly to his home in Brigham City for a visit. Someone tipped the officers and seven deputy marshals surrounded the home and arrested him when they discovered a trap door under a rug and found him in an underground apartment.
"The arrest of Elder Snow," Whitney said in his History of Utah, "caused a widespread sensation, not only in Utah, but beyond her borders. His prominence and influence made him the most important prisoner that had yet fallen into the hands of the crusaders. The Mormons, as a matter of course, much regretted what had befallen him. The anti-Mormons were correspondingly elated."
Gentiles, The Tribune and the federal officials were indeed elated with the arrest of Lorenzo Snow, but not because of vindictiveness toward him. On the contrary they were elated because they saw in his trial a possible opportunity to bring the polygamy hunt to a deeply desired end.
The Tribune expressed the hope in editorials. The prosecuting attorney, Victor Bierbower, expressed it at the beginning of the trial in these words:
The Snow case promised to clarify two aspects of the Edmunds Act. First, it would serve as a test of an interpretation given by the trial courts that the law was aimed at polygamy; that it was not necessary, for conviction, to prove sexual intercourse, or occupancy of the same house, but only that the defendant was living or associating with two or more women as his wives. Secondly, it would serve as a test of the prosecution's theory of "segregation" whereby separate offenses could be charged for separate periods of time during which the offense continued. The prosecution was ultimately upheld by the Supreme Court as to the first point but the "segregation" approach was rejected.
After the jury had found Mr. Snow guilty he was given the usual opportunity to address the court. His statement only served to freeze the problem more solidly into the pattern it had already taken. He said in part:
The trial judge, Orlando W. Powers, then asked the standard question for persons convicted under the Edmunds Act:
The reply concluded with these words:
Judge Powers, in imposing sentence, remarked:
At another point in pronouncing sentence the judge added:
The Snow case almost certainly sounded the death knell of any hope on the part of federal officials and gentiles that the polygamy issue was going to be resolved by leading church members promising to obey, and advising members to obey, the Edmunds Act as interpreted by the Supreme Court. Trial after trial came to the same dead end. To the non-Mormons it all sounded like forked-tongue evasion. To conforming Mormons it obviously sounded like courageous martyrdom for compliance with God's law. But on a few occasions the pattern was broken.
In Ogden Bishop Francis A. Brown didn't quibble. He told the court and jury that he had two wives, that he lived with them and that he had children by them. He concluded his statement prior to sentencing with this declaration:
This was something The Tribune editors could admire, and applaud with an editorial which included this comment: "F. A. Brown, the Mormon Saint convicted in Ogden on Tuesday last by his own testimony, had the courage of his convictions. However much one may deplore such wrong-headedness, the admission must be made that here is a man; one who does not quibble and lie, and who scorns to show the white feather."
Another type of deviation which The Tribune applauded and the News criticized occurred in the case of Orson P. Arnold, a highly respected member of the church. He pleaded guilty to the charge and promised to obey the law thereafter. He was fined $300 and released.
The reaction within the church, as recorded by historian Whitney, was one of astonishment and grief. Said the Deseret News: "Notwithstanding the course taken by Brother Arnold which received the encomiums of the court and its officers and the approval of a portion of the spectators, his example is not one that any consistent Latter-day Saint can afford to follow."
Whitney notes that "Mr. Arnold afterwards redeemed himself in the eyes of his people, by going to prison for the sake of his religion."
Despite this clear warning to members of the church, a much more prominent member followed the same course several months later. Bishop John Sharp pleaded guilty, paid a fine of $300 and was discharged.
Whitney said in his history that this created one of the major "sensations" of the crusade. "Bishop Sharp," Whitney wrote, "was not one of the general authorities of the church, but one of a score or more of bishops presiding severally over the ecclesiastical wards of Salt Lake City. Socially and financially, however, he was one of the foremost characters in the community. Nor was this entirely due to his wealth, to the influence that it commanded, or to the ability by which it had been acquired. He was the possessor of sterling qualities, for which he was widely honored and esteemed."
In passing sentence, Judge Zane remarked: "In view of the statements which you have made, I am disposed to exercise the discretion which the law gives me, so as not to impose any imprisonment."
The Tribune, in applauding the position taken by the court, said in an editorial:
The Bishop Sharp incident provided one more point of conflict between The Tribune and the News. The Tribune charged that the church directed various forms of retaliation against the bishop for his refusal to perjure himself and for promising to obey the law. The News stoutly denied that he suffered any mistreatment at the hands of his church associates. Whitney, in recounting the event some years later, had this to say about it:
While Utah was the focal point of the crusade against polygamy, numerous prosecutions took place in Idaho and Arizona and a few cases arose elsewhere.
The Tribune covered the trials in minute detail, frequently straying from objective and factual recital of testimony, with such headlines as: "Judge Bennett's Weak Defense of the Criminal Clawson;" "George Q. Cannon, the Wonderful Knownothing;" "Witnesses for Defense Admit That They Are Perjurers."
Throughout this period The Tribune, like its journalistic opponents, utilized the "bludgeon" type editorial. It was always blunt and sometimes brutal. But on occasion it would try a more deft approach. One such example appeared January 21, 1886, in the running editorial dispute with the News as to whether polygamous wives really did accept the practice. The Tribune flatly rejected public statements of individual women, or resolutions adopted by groups of women as believable evidence; it regarded such declarations as perjured testimony given under ecclesiastical duress.
Under the heading "I Saw It in Her Face," the editorial started out in this fashion: