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Chapter 3 - "The Border Ruffians"
Chapter 3 - "The Border Ruffians"
ON THE MORNING OF July 24, 1873, there appeared at the top of the editorial section of The Salt Lake Tribune a public announcement. It was the valedictory of Fred T. Perris as general manager of the newspaper and marked the beginning of a new ownership and a new editorial policy, with a different style and content. The retiring manager ended his announcement of resignation with the comment: "As The Tribune in the future will be conducted by strangers to the Territory and to myself, I cannot say what its future course will be."
Three days later, on July 27, the new owners — Fred Lockley, George F. Prescott and A. M. Hamilton — addressed themselves to the question left unanswered by Perris:
For the next six weeks the tone of The Tribune was not markedly different from what it had been under the founding schismatic elders. Sharp criticisms were directed toward certain policies of the Mormon Church—generally the same policies which The Tribune had been founded to oppose. But on September 10, 1873, the new owners issued their declaration of a no holds-barred conflict with the church.
The Mormon city council, infuriated by a Tribune account of a previous meeting, ejected the newspaper's reporter and adopted a motion closing the chamber thereafter to representatives of the newspaper.
The response of the new ownership was carried at the top of the editorial page under the heading — "Our Reporter and the City Council":
It would be naive to believe that this declaration of journalistic war and its implementation over the ensuing decade was caused solely by the closing of the council chamber to a reporter. This was not the first time a reporter had been ejected and it wasn't going to be the last.
What is more easily believable is that the new owners from Kansas had surveyed the local situation, consulted with prospective allies and arrived at a conclusion that they could survive only by making a much stronger appeal to the anti-Mormon element than the founders and former owners of the paper were willing to make.
With the Deseret News serving as the voice of the Mormon leadership and the Salt Lake Herald (founded the year prior to The Salt Lake Tribune) serving as the church's lay supporter — or, as The Tribune put it — "the minor voice of the church," there simply was no place for another newspaper which could be accused of being "soft" on Mormonism.
The key to the future policy announcement was the reference to the advice of long-time residents. They were clearly telling the newcomer publishers that to recruit and hold a constituency they were, figuratively speaking, going to have to throw a few Christians to the lions.
It would be illogical to suppose that the Kansas men, who were experienced journalists, would enter such a bitterly controversial field; assume the debts of a newspaper that had already failed financially; and start subsidizing it anew, without prior investigation. And the situation that would emerge from such an investigation was substantially this:
To make The Tribune a profitable enterprise it would be necessary to break, or at least loosen, the church's grip on the economic life of the community and its political control. This could come about through some substantial changes in church policies, which did not appear to be in the offing; through an infusion of non-Mormon population sufficient to create a viable balance of power, and the prospects of this happening in the foreseeable future were indeed dim; or through federal intervention on a scale which had theretofore been frequently threatened but never carried out.
The non-Mormon element at that time was looking to federal intervention as its best bet for solving what it, and much of the rest of the country, called the "Utah problem." That is why it was so stubbornly opposed to statehood at that time. The battle to bring about the federal intervention it desired clearly had to be fought out in a national as well as a local arena. A vigorous fight had to be waged in the local arena to inflame national sentiment to a point which would compel effective federal intervention.
If the new publishers of The Tribune had paid any attention to Utah history since the exodus of the Mormons to the valley of the Great Salt Lake, they were aware that they were challenging a formidable adversary. Brigham Young was one of the outstanding figures of his time; and he was revered by the overwhelming majority of the Mormons and respected by many non- Mormons. He was, on a basis of the historical record, a superb diplomat and charming personality when he wanted to be. Many federal officials sent to Utah by the federal government to get tough with the stiff-necked Mormons, and who arrived in the territory with blood in their eyes, experienced dramatic changes in attitude after conferring with Brigham Young and his associates and viewing their handiwork.
President Grant, for example, visited Utah in 1875 to personally observe the situation that had prompted him to send a tough military man to the territory to clean up the Mormon problem. After conferring with Brigham Young and observing a welcoming demonstration by hundreds of Mormon primary children, he turned to Governor George W. Emery and muttered, "I have been deceived." Mrs. Grant was overwhelmed emotionally at an organ recital in the Mormon Tabernacle and let her good feelings toward the Mormon people be known.
When Senator O. P. Morton of Indiana visited Salt Lake City in 1871 to personally investigate charges of outrageous and unjudicial conduct by federal judges his party included Grace Greenwood (Mrs. Lippincott), a widely read author of the era. She sent back to the New York Herald, which was raising an editorial uproar over polygamy, a letter describing Brigham Young in these terms:
The great Chicago fire occurred during this visit and the author, reporting on the local campaign to raise relief funds, wrote:
Several years before the founding of The Tribune but while other short lived journalistic critics of the Mormon Church were charging it with bringing shiploads of the dregs of Europe to the territory, Charles Dickens, the great English novelist and journalist, published an article describing a Mormon emigrant ship in Liverpool harbor just before its departure for the states. He described the more than 800 Mormon converts aboard as "in their degree, the pick and flower of England;" and concluded the article with these comments:
Captain Howard Stansbury and Lieutenant John W. Gunnison of the United States Topographical Engineers had earlier written widely quoted testimonials to the industry, sincerity, organizing talents, orderliness, hospitality and colonizing abilities of the Mormon pioneers. Some of the federal judges had, unintentionally of course, improved the image of Mormonism by actions which were indicted not only by residents of the territory but by federal colleagues and bar organizations.
The Mormons had scored a public relations victory over their adversaries with the enactment by the territorial legislature of the first woman's suffrage law. This blunted the attacks designed to equate the polygamous wives with the slaves of the south. It was not customary for masters to give the vote to their slaves.
These incidents and viewpoints, selected at random, are merely illustrative of hundreds of others which were available to the new publishers of The Tribune in making their assessment of the policies most likely to prove effective. They could not help but notice the frequency with which tributes to the Mormons and their accomplishments were prefaced with the disclaimer of any sympathy with or support of polygamy. This could only enhance in their minds the usefulness of this doctrine in the public relations battle to bring about a federally enforced solution to the "Utah problem."
The decision of the new publishers to pull off the editorial gloves and start endearing themselves to the anti-Mormons was surely based on something broader than the closing of a city council chamber to one of their reporters. This incident was the occasion, but not the reason, for the declaration of war.
For a few weeks the editorial policy of the paper continued to reflect an ambiguous attitude toward the church. But this was largely due to the fact that Tullidge was still on the staff and contributed lead editorials from time to time under his own name.
In one of these he argued that the cooperative movement had already failed; that the scheme to place in the hands of the church authorities a stupendous church monopoly which would exclude gentiles and individual Mormons "from all independent commerce and industry" had been thwarted. He asserted that the prior four or five years had brought about a great loosening of the "closed society;" that the "polygamy mania" which had earlier swept the church was subsiding; that inflow of gentiles into the mining industry, plus the heretic Mormons, were having a leavening effect on church political power; and concluded:
But the soft, considerate, reasoned approach of Tullidge was tolerated only occasionally and for a short time by the new owners of The Tribune. They speedily began implementing a policy which impelled Tullidge to publicly disassociate himself entirely from the newspaper and which earned them the name of "Border Ruffians" among Mormons and their sympathizers.
A more representative sample of the new policy was an editorial carrying the caption — "A Holy Institution — A wife who couldn't see the Beauty of it." There followed an emotion-packed account of the suffering of an unnamed wife when her husband contracted a second marriage, and of the husband's responses to her protestations. It then concluded:
Thereafter The Tribune attacked the church's tithing doctrine, declaring the one-tenth rate was economically selfdefeating; that it was crushing to all useful industry.
The divorce suit of Ann Eliza Young against Brigham Young was covered in great detail, including publication of all the documents filed by the plaintiff. The Mormon city council was attacked for its dealings with the church-owned gas company; for neglecting the streets; for tolerating unsanitary conditions in the city; for spending too much money for the wrong things and too little for the right things. Correspondents from the mining camps were permitted, and perhaps encouraged, to express their views of church policies.
As a special feature for the church's conference in October of 1873 The Tribune published what it called a picture gallery of the leaders. The article, with verbal and artist sketches, carried these sub-heads: "The Ecclesiastical Despots Who Rule Utah and Eat Tithe;" "A Short and Concise History of Their Rise and Progress - From Milk to Tithe."
These excerpts from the sketch of Brigham Young are representative of the style and flavor of the series.
To the publishers of The Tribune during the 1873-83 decade, objectivity was a vice not to be tolerated in news columns, editorials or correspondence from readers. The news columns and correspondence were frequently more opinionated than the editorials, possibly because the reporters and correspondents were more opinionated than the editorial writers.
A few excerpts from reports on the quarterly conference of the Center Stake in 1880 will illustrate the point:
Another part of the report was captioned "Afternoon Exercises" and then continued:
Penrose Talks
At another point The Tribune report stated:
During this period of uninhibited journalistic expression; of studied insult; of subtle and coarse humor; of venomous denunciation; and all-around bad manners, The Tribune was "taking it" as well as "passing it out."
The Deseret News, as the official voice of the church, let the Herald [the minor voice of the church to The Tribune] do most of the eye-gouging in-fighting. But on occasion it joined in with a snarling exuberance not exceeded by either The Tribune or the Herald. As a typical example, The Tribune reprinted an article which had appeared in the News of March 31, 1880, for the purpose of answering it. The News fumed:
As a final example of the journalism of the day may be cited The Tribune's reaction to the foregoing. It was a retort that showed none of the poise or sense of humor that sometimes added a badly needed grace to The Tribune.