H. Dean Thompson was a teacher, historian, comedian, marimba player

 

----

(Originally published on April 22, 2011. I am rescuing from archive oblivion this great Cal Grondahl cartoon that went with original post.) 

I attended the funeral today of H. Dean Thompson, 79, of Ogden. A retired Ben Lomond High School teacher, he had a remarkable life. I only got to know Dean six or seven weeks ago. We swapped several e-mails that involved a shared love of LDS history. He sent me two family history books, fascinating, detailed biographies of his family stretching 200-plus years, with many anecdotes. 

I wanted to meet Dean. I was invited to his home. Two Saturdays ago, while packing his marimba equipment (Dean entertained at senior centers), he had a heart attack that would claim his life. He wrote several history books and an autobiography. After reading two, I’ll always regret only having the chance to see him in his coffin.

I want to share some of the history Dean recounted in his books, not only because it’s interesting but also because I suspect many longtime local families have similar histories. Perhaps it will inspire others to do what Dean did — preserve the memories of how our grandparents, great grandparents and earlier ancestors laid the foundation for the lives we enjoy today. The following is from “History of Heber Charles Gibson and Mary Amanda Bitton Gibson and their Pioneer Ancestors.”(Likes Publishing, Orem, Utah):

Dean’s grandmother, Mary Amanda Gibson, traced her LDS roots as far as her great-great grandparents, who joined the church in New England in the 1830s. Erastus Bingham, for example, was baptized with his wife Lucinda in 1833 in Vermont. Years later, when the couple and their family lived in Nauvoo, Brigham Young told them that an early church council held in their home in Vermont was the only meeting where are 12 Apostles were together during that era.

Now switch to the union of Wheatley Gibson and Selena Gibson, parents of Dean’s grandfather, Heber Charles Gibson. (The H. before Dean’s name is for Heber). Wheatley and Selena were born in England, and made their way over the plains to settle in the Weber area. He was 21, she was 16, when they met and fell in love immediately.

As Dean recounts from the sources he painstakingly researched, Wheatley and Selena fought “the cricket wars” of 1867 to 1872, where grasshoppers ate more up to three-quarters of the crops. Millions of crickets were fought with prayers, fires and little more.

Soon after the “the grasshopper wars,” black diphtheria struck the community, and Wheatley and Selena’s family was not exempt. Between 1877 and 1878, the couple watched helplessly as their children struggled. Two died and Selena barely escaped dying. Dean writes, “These epidemics must have been very frightening because so many died and because of the primitive state of medical care.” From his research, we learn that our Top of Utah ancestors used as medicine golden seal, bayberry, sulfur and molasses, cayenne pepper, etc.

I move forward to Dean’s grandfather, Heber Charles Gibson, farmer, bank board of director, faithful Mormon, and staunch Republican. Heber lived almost 90 years until the mid 1970s. His wife, Mary Bitton, died 10 years earlier. She was very active in the West Weber Relief Society. But I digress: In his research, Dean learned from former Democrat and U.S. congressman Gunn McKay that bishops used to go door to door in Huntsville assigning political parties to ward families. But these chosen political ideologies often stuck.

Dean recounts a relative’s assertion that Heber himself had had his family chosen Republicans. In an amusing anecdote, Dean recounts in the book that within the family assigned Republicans married assigned Democrats, which “caused a few heated discussions at family gatherings.”

What Dean saved for future generations with his painstaking, well-researched, detailed family histories is priceless, and of more value than any material wealth. He’s gone from the Earth, but I don’t for a moment think Dean Thompson is without many friends. What a great time he must be having right now with Wheatley, Selena, and the others.

-- Doug Gibson

Rarely seen 'Corianton: A Story of Unholy Love, 1931, packs BYU's Varsity Theater

 

Review/observations by Doug Gibson

For about a couple decades, I had longed to view the early sound film "based" on a segment of The Book of Mormon. It's "Corianton: A Story of Unholy Love," 1931. With artistic license, it tells of Alma's somewhat troublesome son, Corianton, and his involvement with the harlot, Isabel. This is all part of Alma's letters to Corianton in Book of Alma, chapters 39-42.

Now that's not Isabel reclining and wearing very little in the poster above. But the woman -- an extra -- is in the film, and dressed as such. Corianton ... premiered in Salt Lake City and then promptly flopped at the box office. Ultimately, more money was likely earned by lawyers litigating over the film than at the box office. It's a low-budget black and white film that once aspired to be in color. The Great Depression cut fundraising severely, and it limps to its climax, with the final scenes - a battle between the Zoramites and the Righteous -- a mixture of stock footage from the 1922 big-budget film "Sodom and Gomorrha," and the Corianton ... film actors passionately fighting, arguing, and dying on what looks like a stage.

Nevertheless, I loved this film after watching a restored version that played at BYU's Varsity Theater the last Friday of January. The BYU Motion Picture Archives hosted the event, and the Varsity Theater was packed. (Granted there was no charge, but that's still a great crowd). Panelists -- including author/historian Ardis E. Parshall, and Ben Harry, curator of BYU's Motion Picture archives, provided commentary before and after the film.

(A lot of the back history of this film mentioned in this blog post, as well as many of its artistic merits, pro and con, was also observed by the panelists and noted in a book on Corianton edited by Parshall. Here is one still from the film, below.)

Parshall, by the way recently edited a book -- The Corianton Saga -- covering the history of the Corianton story adaptations. It was first a novella by LDS General Authority B.H. Roberts, titled Corianton: A Nephite Story, then adapted into a play by an eccentric Latter-day Saint named Orestes U. Bean, who developed an obsession with the story he had appropriated from Roberts, as well as another late-19th century Book of Mormon-themed novel titled, A Ship of Hagoth, by Julia A. McDonald.

The play was titled "Corianton." It played well in what is described as the "Mormon corridor," or areas heavily populated by Latter-day Saints. When its backers took the play to parts east of the Rocky Mountain West -- including New York City -- it failed. In New York City, Bean titled it "An Aztec Romance."

A little backstory: In the late 19th century, there was an effort from LDS leaders to create art from the Scriptures, and the church's doctrine and its early struggles. Besides the aforementioned books that resulted, there was Nephi Anderson's tale that included the pre-existence, Added Upon. That book was in my family's library as I was growing up. Besides novels there were plays and short stories. I recall reading one by Anderson in which a lazy LDS teenager -- too bored to attend church -- was thrust into a dream where he experiences the pre-Utah persecution of the Saints. This sort of "'Mormon Renaissance" was the precursor of the film, "Corianton: A Story of Unholy Love."

I know I am meandering so I'll try to get to the film. In the 1920s, an entrepreneur named Lester Park, after watching impressive films like "Ben Hur" gain notice, acclaim, and box-office money, decided that the story of Corianton would be box-office gold. The project was successful early, and even the tepid resulting film has evidences of the early money. It was filmed in New Jersey. Its music composer was from "Ben Hur," The film's orchestra music was overseen by the former head of the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra of New York City. Professional dancers were in the film, and the LDS Tabernacle Choir and Great Organ is heard in the film. I mentioned that an original idea was to shoot the film in color.

But, as mentioned, the money started to dry up. And there was a second problem; the play's mercurial, eccentric, odd, creator, the aforementioned Orestes Bean. He had finagled himself a lot of control over the production, which caused headaches for director Wilfrid North and the film crew. In fact, a lot of the film was shot in a hurry while Bean was off getting married, and absent from the set.

Corianton ... starts with the trial of Korihor. Corianton is a fan of the apostate, and critic of his father Alma. His faith is re-energized once he sees Korihor struck dumb and he goes off on his mission, with his brother Shiblon. Once with the Zoramites, though, he becomes too friendly with Zoramite nobleman, Prince Seantum. Seantum conspires with his mistress, Isobel, to get Coriantumr infatuated with her. The plan, which works to perfection, lures Coriantumr to a swinging Zoramite party where he's fed lots of wine by Isobel. Once his drunkeness is publicized by Seantum and others, the reputation of the missionaries is tarnished.

Prince Seantum is not in The Book of Mormon. Nor is a woman named Relia, a pious woman who is engaged to Shiblon but actually in love with Corianton. Meanwhile, Isobel, despite her treachery, falls in love with Corianton, who feels regret at what he has done. This all really upsets Seantum, who plots not only the murder of Corianton and Isobel, but plans to lead an army and destroy the righeous Nephites. The climax of the film is that battle.

I'm conditioned not to reveal the end of movies, which is kind of unfair since Harry told the audience at the Varsity Theater that there are no plans to release this film, as a DVD, or on YouTube, or on TV. However, interested readers can purchase the book Parshall edited, as it contains the entire film script.

This is not a traditionally good movie. I would give it 1.5 stars out of 4. But it's still so interesting to watch. If I could, I'd buy 40 copies and give them to likeminded friends. As Harry noted, "(the film) is a holdover from an earlier era." Pomp and majesty, and drama, and very loud talking is how the film conveys its religious message. It's not like films today which focus on emotion and deep spirituality to convey a religious message. As Harry noted, it's a lot like "Ben Hur" was in its religious delivery.

"We need to watch with one eye in 1931 and one eye in 2023," Harry added. (See another still from the film below.)

My opinion of the film is that it mixes three different artistic styles, the creaky, still under-developed sound technology of 1931, the pantomime, emotional style of silent cinema, and the loud, let's-project-our-voice-through-the-auditorium of the traditional stage. (Harry also noted a couple of these observations.)

Much of the overly emotional, tragedian (particularly from the actor who played Shiblon) acting in the film is risible today, and there were a dozen-plus incidents in the film that evoked respectful laughter.

As was noted by Parshall, an unhealthy influence of too much Orestes Bean found itself into the script as the film progresses. Suddenly, the actors started to talk in a Shakespearean manner. "(Bean liked) thees and thous," Parshall told the audience. Parshall does note that these were talented artists, on both sides of the camera.

Much of the film's faults are due to the lack of money as filming progressed. The "Beanish" script didn't help, and the normal-for-the-times overly dramatic, tragedy-like lamenting over-acting doesn't go over well today, and invites giggles from the audience. Those who have read The Book of Mormon, I feel comfortable saying, won't see "Korihor," or "Alma," in the actors on the screen.

One favorable note for this film is it underscores the progressive nature of Mormonism when it comes to salvation. During the climax, actors express their confidence that God will forgive them of their sins, accept their repentence, and welcome them to heaven. In fact, one character claims that he received revelation that Korihor had been saved.

Also, the two leads, Eric Alden as Corianton, and Theo Pennington, as Zoan Ze Isabel, are great in their roles. (In what strikes me as humorous, I learned at the film showing that Bean's wife eventually changed her name to Zoan Ze Isabel. Bean, by the way, in the latter years of his life, lectured on his play/movie extensively in southern California, to large crowds. He had a missionary zeal for it.)

Finally, I want to mention one more interesting fact about "Corianton: A Story of Unholy Love." It's a fairly racy film, although that was not uncommon in that film era. There are many dancers dressed like the woman in the above poster. And there is a scene, where an angry Corianton is confronting a penitent Isobel, where Theo Pennington is visibly nude under a thin negligee. One panelist, I cannot recall which, did opine that box office receipts likely dropped after parents had second thoughts about children attending. Frankly, the film would probably garner a PG or PG-13 today, or soft R if the MPAA was in a prudish mood.

I am so glad I saw this historical gemstone. It has so much much value, particular for the cultural history of Mormonism. I appreciate Parshall, Terry and others for publicizing the film and restoring it. It played a decade or so ago at BYU but I missed it. This newer restored version include subtitles, which was helpful. The audience clearly appreciated the film. Harry promised the film will eventually get another showing, and said that a new print has been discovered in California, under a different title. 

(Below, one more still/poster, with the leads "Corianton" and "Isobel.")

B.H. Roberts biography provides an interesting review of his public life

 

Review by Doug Gibson

John Sillito, professor emeritus of libraries at Weber State University in my home city of Ogden, Utah, has done a really impressive job with "B.H. Roberts: A Life in the Public Arena," Signature, 2021. Its nearly 600 pages make for an interesting biography read, a turn-pager, rare for a book with so much information packed into it.

Although the subject's personal life is not Sillito's primary topic, it is emotional, at times heart-tugging, to read of the young B.H. Roberts, with a father gone and a mother far away in Utah, living a neglected life in England, badly treated by church members who were supposed to be caring well for him while his mother tried to get him to Utah territory.

He finally got to "Zion," walking most of the way with only his sister. When he arrived, he found his mother in another slowly failing marriage. The result was a rougher adolescence that a young man needed, and it likely contributed to a recurring problem with alcoholism, and depression that Roberts dealt with through his life.

Roberts, though, was determined to succeed, and sought an education, graduating from Deseret College. He thrived within the late 18th century LDS church, hierarchy, becoming a member of the First Council of the Seventy, and eventually marrying member Sarah Louisa Smith, a native of Centerville, Utah. 

He later took a second wife, Celia Dibble. Smith and Dibble bore him 15 children.

Roberts was sent on dangerous prostlyting missions, when it really was without purse or script, and threats from the opposition could be deadly. When LDS missionaries were murdered in the deep southern United States, Roberts showed great courage in treking into the dangerous locations, and undercover, retrieving the bodies for proper burial.

Sillito's research is impressive. He's combed archives, letters, transcripts, newspapers and more to present a picture of Roberts, a devout Latter-day Saint, clearly a leader, a great public speaker, researcher and organizer, and a sometimes rebel who clashed with powerful colleagues in the LDS hierarchy. 

Roberts was an active liberal in a time when many of his peers were on the opposite side, preferring to align with business interests. Roberts, disagreed, and found himself in spats with among others, Joseph F. Smith, and Utah's first senator, Reed Smoot. 

Roberts occasional bouts with alcoholism were tolerated by his ecclesiastical leaders, but the closest he came to official church discipline was due to politics, when he and another Democrat, apostle Moses Thatcher, clashed over the LDS hierarchy wanting greater say on members' political activities. Roberts' enthusiastic desire to run for U.S. Congress met with disapproval. They wanted Roberts to back a sort of manifesto that would allow church leaders to approve runs for political office.

Roberts, believing he had been forthright about his political aspirations, offered to leave his leadership callings. He was furious over what he regarded as unfair criticism directed at him. The situation for a time appeared to be untenable for either side.

For a time Roberts shunned church hierarchy, but eventually he was persuaded to accept their concerns without sacrificing his personal political beliefs. 

It's interesting that church leaders spent a lot time talking with Roberts, working to persuade him. It underscores his importance as a leader, missionary, spokesman and writer, Consider how another internal dissident, apostle MosesThatcher was treated. For similar reasons, Thatcher was dropped from the Quorum of the Twelve.

It's entertaining to read of Utah's early days of politics. Sentiment among voters was fluid, moving back and forth, just like today (nationally, not Utah). Interestingly, Roberts for a while opposed women's suffrage, and suffered politically for it. He also opposed high tariffs, which put him at odds with much of elite Utahns of that time.

Sillito does not avoid Roberts' racist views, which he expressed publicly. He was a creature of his times, and was echoing sentiments which were believed and practiced through the LDS Church in those times. 

Roberts was eventually elected to the U.S. Congress, despite having three wives and having been jailed for polygamy. After long hearings, and dreadful national press, Roberts failed to be seated, although he did later receive some badly needed back pay for while he was in Washington. This is my favorite part of Sillito's biography. Roberts was very naive that he could -- as a polygamist -- persuade Congress to seat him, but it shows both his tenacity, and intellectual ability, that he gave it a fight.

As mentioned, Roberts was married three times. His third marriage may have been after the Manifesto. Roberts seems to have partially neglected his earlier wives, particularly his first, preferring to spend most of the time with third wife, Dr. Margaret Curtis Shipp. This particularly caused tension with his first wife, discord that continued even after her death, in which her family made it clear to Roberts he was not welcome at her funeral.

Sillito writes of an incident in which the multi-married Roberts, several years after the Manifesto, appeares to have a serious crush on a young single Mormon woman, Leah Dunford. Sillito provides letters which provide fascinating reading. Nothing eventually happened. Any romance died in embryo. The whole event seems a bit kitschy, except that the young lady, already more or less engaged, was encouraged by her mother, Susa Young Gates, to accept Roberts' interest. These passages underscore the long time it took to deflate the toxic culture of polygamy.

Roberts, despite his 60 years, admirably became a U.S. Army Chaplain and served overseas during World War I. He later served as president of the Eastern States Mission, overseeing mission strategies that are still in use today.

Diabetes caused a physical collapse and after his mission tenure ended in 1927 -- third wife Margaret Shipp died during his mission -- he spent his last years with the Seventies before eventually succumbing to complications of diabetes in 1933. Before he died he suffered a bout of serious depression, what Roberts called the "black dog," when diabetes led to partial foot amputation. When Roberts died in late September of 1933, he was living with his sole living spouse, Celia.

Despite these challenges, Roberts stayed active in the public arena. He represented the LDS Church at the World Parliament of Religions, where he had been snubbed 40 years earlier. This time he was praised by parliament participants. Very late in his life, he was politically active, standing up for Utah miners he believed were being exploited by business interests. 

There's a lot of Roberts that interests me that Sillito omits, such as his writing (I love his novella Corianton), much of his family life, his opinions on the Book of Mormon, and a lot of ecclesiastical details. But that's OK; those issues have been covered in depth. We have a very satisfying biography of a great man's public life. His talents and his flaws are covered. To sum up, Sillito provides a book that shows readers why Roberts had such an impact on the 18th and 19th century LDS church, and why he was a popular church leader, speaker and politician. His influence extended well beyond Utah and Mormonism during his lifetime. 

(The Kindle version of B.H. Roberts: A Life in the Public Arena is only $8.99 as of the above date)

Interview with authors of Parley P. Pratt: The Apostle Paul of Mormonism

This interview was conducted in August of 2011, soon after the publication of the biography, Parley P. Pratt: The Apostle Paul of Mormonism, (reviewed by me here.) For various factors, it ended up in Wayback purgatory. It is now available at the Culture of Mormonism blog. I appreciate the input from authors Terryl Givens and Matthew J. Grow. Below is the 2011 post:

As Political Surf readers know, I mentioned the new biography of early Mormon leader Parley P. Pratt, “Parley P. Pratt: The Apostle Paul of Mormonism,” Oxford University Press, 2011, by Terryl L. Givens and Matthew J. Grow, in a previous blog that dealt with Pratt’s death (read). I will be reviewing the biography soon in the print edition of The Standard-Examiner. However, I had the opportunity to ask the authors, Givens and Grow, some questions about Pratt, his contemporaries, and the biography. The results are below:

Q: Did Pratt view his calling in life as an apostle to be as the apostles in the Book of Acts, such as as receiving visions, being persecuted or martyred, as Stephen, performing miracles, debating disbelievers, gathering and counseling members, and preaching without recompense and living in poverty?

A:  There is no doubt that Pratt saw his calling as an apostle as consistent with the New Testament pattern of apostleship. He was a fervent restorationist, was convinced that Joseph Smith had received the authority and keys necessary to restore the kingdom of God, and personally experienced those spiritual gifts such as healing that he believed were sure evidence of an authentic restoration. His willingness to leave his family behind time and again to preach the gospel at  home and in foreign lands, and suffer persecution and imprisonment for the gospel’s sake, was in part a consequence of the office he held and the biblical precedent of apostolic sacrifice and martyrdom.

Q: As a premillennialist, did Pratt have any theories as to a particular time Christ was going to return. Would he have been amazed that Christ had not returned by 2011?

A: Pratt’s millennial expectations preceded his conversion to Mormonism, but found particular focus and support from two events. First was his exposure to the Book of Mormon itself-Isaiah’s “ensign to the nations.”  Second was its reinforcement of his personal interest in the spiritual destiny of the American Indians. In light of Book of Mormon prophecies, he read the Indian Removal Act of 1830 as a providential episode that heralded the gathering of that segment of Israel, and was convinced the Second Coming was accordingly imminent. Smith’s announcement of the city of Zion to be built further confirmed him in his sense that he was living on the cusp of millennial events. The failure to realize the promise of Zion in Missouri was devastating to Pratt, as it was to thousands of his co-religionists.

Q: Pratt’s books and pamphlets, although rarely discussed today, are so much a part of Mormonism’s deepest beliefs. Did these emulate mostly from his private talks with Joseph Smith or from his personal study? And did he ever run into conflict on his published doctrine with Brigham Young, as his brother Orson often did?

A: Because so little is recorded of Smith’s Kirtland teachings and personal interactions with other leaders, it is impossible to know how much of Pratt’s writing was directly derivative of Smith’s ideas, and how much was Pratt’s own extrapolation and elaboration of seeds he garnered from Smith and his revelations. Most likely, it was both. Smith did on one occasion complain that Pratt and other “great big elders” were passing off his ideas as their own. Some later editions of Pratt’s writings had portions edited out, but we found no evidence of Young criticizing any particular ideas of his.  Rather, Young recommended Pratt’s writings to others.

Q: Did Brigham Young like Parley P. Pratt? An earlier biography of Pratt (Stanley) claimed the prophet disliked him and kept him away via constant missions?

A: In general, Young and Pratt seem to have had a good relationship, though there were moments of tension and conflict.  For instance, during the trek west, Young rebuked Pratt over several issues related to authority and organization of the trek west.  In general, though, Young respected Pratt for his preaching and literary talents, as well as his willingness and ability to take on difficult tasks like the Southern Utah Expedition, and Pratt accepted Young as his quorum president (and later Church president) and looked to him for guidance and advice.

Q: Regarding Pratt’s murder, do you think he wished to be a martyr or had resigned himself to dying when he left the Van Buren jail?

A: The last years of Pratt’s life were marked by disappointment in the millennium deferred, and in the failure of the Saints to attain the high standards expected of them. (Their unwillingness to generously support his missionary endeavors was one factor in that perception). He missed his family terribly during his missions, and was worn out emotionally and physically. In his final days, he refused to take precautions to defend himself against the man thirsting for his blood, and certainly met his death with uncommon equanimity.

Q: What are some unanswered questions about Parley P. Pratt that are still left to be discovered by historians?

A: One important question relates to your question 3. How much of a role did Pratt have as a catalyst to Joseph Smith’s own expansion of his ideas, especially in regard to human theosis, which Pratt discussed in print long before the King Follett discourse? Another question might be the enduring theological legacy of Pratt’s works. How did Pratt’s books, especially Voice of Warning and Key to the Science of Theology, shape Mormon thought throughout the nineteenth century and the twentieth (and indeed to the present)?

-- Interview by Doug Gibson

Major 19th century legal tussle over Mormon polygamy occurred in England

 

Originally published at StandardBlogs

Most of us are aware of the many challenges, legally and legislatively, to the Mormon practice of polygamy in the U.S. during the 19th century. Fewer people are aware that polygamy was addressed by an English court in 1866. In the winter 1982 edition of Brigham Young University Studies, historian Kenneth Cannon II, in “A Strange Encounter: The English Courts and Mormon Polygamy,” provides an interesting overview of Hyde v. Hyde and Woodmansee, a divorce case which led to a precedent that survived in England for more than a century.

The plaintiff, John Hyde Jr., is a fascinating person. Although barely an historical footnote today in Mormon history, Hyde was an 1848 British convert to Mormonism, — age 15 — who served a mission to France three years later, In 1853 he traveled to Utah, was rebaptized (a not uncommon occurrence,) “and married Lavinia Hawkins, to whom he had been betrothed while they both lived in England,” writes Cannon.

Not much later, Hyde received his Mormon endowments. Frankly, over the next few years, little is known about Hyde’s life. According to Lynn Watkins Jorgensen, who wrote “John Hyde Jr., Mormon Renegade,” for the Journal of Mormon History, Volume 17, Hyde and his wife, Lavinia, had one child. The family suffered financially, with Hyde earning little sums teaching school and dabbling in merchandising. According to Cannon, Hyde contacted LDS Apostle Orson Pratt, informing him he had lost his faith. Perhaps as a remedy for his doubts, Hyde was called on an 1856 mission to the Sandwich Islands (Hawaii). Surprisingly, Cannon notes, Hyde accepted.

It seems, though, that the mission acceptance was not sincere. Once Hyde arrived in Hawaii, he established himself as an active opponent to Mormonism, preaching against the Mormon missionary efforts. He shortly returned to the U.S. and continued proselyting against Mormonism. It would be fascinating to learn the catalyst for his change of heart with Mormonism. By all accounts, he was a far better opponent of Mormonism than he had ever been as an LDS missionary. In 1857, Hyde wrote and published “Mormonism: Its Leaders and Designs.” The book, which can be read online today, is a particularly harsh attack on the church. It’s best known as being the earliest book to reveal the secret — sacred to Mormons — LDS endowment ceremony. Hyde also wrote articles against Mormonism for newspapers, including the New York Herald. His published suggestions on dealing with the Mormons included establishing martial law in Utah, invading Utah, putting a bounty on the head of Brigham Young and deporting polygamists. Hyde described Mormons as “thieves, villains and murderers,” according to Watkins Jorgensen.

Even before his book was published, Hyde was excommunicated by the LDS Church. Mormon Apostle Heber C. Kimball also publicly divorced Hyde from his wife, Lavinia, who had remained faithful to the church. It was not unusual for LDS leaders to “divorce” married couples from the pulpit or by declaration. As Cannon notes, in 1899 the Utah Supreme Court would rule these “divorce decrees” as invalid.

After Hyde failed to convince his wife to leave Mormonism and join him in England, he settled in England, working as a newspaper editor, and a minister of Swedenborgian beliefs, a Christian sect that followed the teachings of Emanuel Swedenborg (1688-1772), a Swedish scientist, philosopher and theologian who claimed to have witnessed many near-death experiences. According to Watkins Jorgensen’s article, Hyde also wrote an unpublished novel, heavily biographical, that claimed to be an expose of a family, in which lovely young women who joined the LDS Church and traveled to Utah were forced into polygamous marriage with Brigham Young, John Taylor and Heber C. Kimball.

In 1866, Hyde made a decision to sue — in British court — his former wife, now remarried in Utah and named Lavinia Woodmansee, for divorce, charging her with adultery. Why Hyde chose to seek a divorce is still puzzling. The journalist in me thinks Hyde, who had a record of vociferously tub-thumping anti-Mormonism, was seeking the publicity that would accompany such a high-profile lawsuit. Cannon offers the possibility that Hyde reasonably surmised that his divorce from Lavinia was not binding. Watkins Jorgensen speculates that he may have remained hurt from his failure to convince his former wife to leave Mormonism. In any event, Hyde wanted, and expected I’m sure, a formal dissolution of his marriage. He would be surprised at the eventual outcome.

As Cannon relates, during the divorce trial, Hyde told the judge, Sir James O. Wilde, of his life with Mormonism, his changing opinions, and related the history of his marriage, which he testified had been monogamous. A witness for Hyde, former Mormon Frederick Piercy, once married to his ex-wife’s sister, supported Hyde’s claim that he had never engaged in polygamy.

(I digress here to provide an example — courtesy of Cannon’s article — of the intense London press coverage of Hyde v. Hyde and Woodmansee. “On 22 March of that year The [London] Times related: ‘It is a strange fact that no case should have arisen on the validity of Mormon marriages before that of ‘Hyde v. Hyde,” which came before the Divorce Court in January last. So many young women have been tempted or entrapped into abandoning English homes for the half or third part of a husband at the Salt Lake City, and have since found reason to rue their infatuation that we can only explain the entire absence of precedents on the subject by supposing that few are happy enough to retrace their steps across the wastes that divide the Mormon paradise from Christendom.”)

It’s not surprising, nor unreasonable, for 19th century courts or newspapers, or other organizations to view polygamy as criminal sexual immorality, rather than accede to the LDS doctrinal belief of earthly marriages and children leading to greater heavenly glory after death. Mormon doctrine, while widely available then on friendly presses, were not often read by anyone other than the faithful. The resolution of Hyde’s case, though, was convoluted and ultimately, unsatisfactory to Hyde. Judge Wilde was as disgusted by polygamy as anyone else, so much so that he refused to acknowledge any marriage in Utah as being valid, despite Hyde’s barrister’s careful arguments that any monogamist marriage, in Utah or elsewhere, should be legal in England. Judge Wilde disagreed. As Cannon writes, “Wilde decided that the central question of the case was not whether Hyde was in fact a polygamist; rather, it was whether polygamy was recognized in Utah where the marriage had taken place.” As a result, Judge Wilde considered Hyde’s marriage as “potentially polygamous.” Because Hyde’s marriage clashed with Christian values, Judge Wilde ruled that it was not recognized in England and therefore was not eligible for a divorce ruling.

The decision, Cannon noted, hampered any couple married in a polygamous nation for scores of years. It left Hyde in an unenviable situation, “denied matrimonial relief by the English court,” writes Cannon. Although England considered his marriage not worthy of a divorce decree, Judge Wilde had made it clear that his decision did not “decide upon the rights of succession or legitimacy which it might be proper to accord to the issue of polygamous unions, nor upon the rights or obligations in relation to third persons which people living under the sanction of such unions may have created for themselves.”

As Cannon sums up the case, “Hyde was left in a kind of marital limbo. The marriage could not be dissolved in England and had probably not been legally dissolved in Utah. … He was married technically yet could not get a divorce in England despite his wife’s second marriage.”

Hyde, lived only seven years after his attempt at divorce, dying in 1876 at age 43. According to Watkins Jorgensen, he lived a respectable life as a Swedenborgian minister in England, writing “several books and pamphlets” on the subject. Lavinia Hawkins Hyde Woodmansee died on April 28, 1910.

--- Doug Gibson

Hamblin biography captures the many talents of the 'apostle to the Indians'

Review by Doug Gibson

Add early Mormon explorer/colonizer/missionary Jacob Hamblin to the list of excellent biographies of early Mormon church leaders. Historian Todd Compton’s “A Frontier Life: Jacob Hamlin, Explorer and Indian Missionary,” University of Utah Press, 2013, covers its subject extensively.

Hamblin is best known for his efforts to assimilate American Indians into or near Mormon towns and culture. Those efforts, although very sincere, ultimately failed. As Compton explains, the entire movement of eastern United States’ settlers into long-inhabited Indian lands created a situation in which tribes were forced into competition for necessities such as water, seeds for food, hunting, and of course land. It was an overall battle that the American Indian would lose.

As a result, as Compton notes, Hamblin’s most effective skill with American Indians was his ability to negotiate through tense altercations. In 1874, after three Navajos were killed — and another wounded — by an Indian hater, his outlaw sons, and a hired man, Hamblin bravely went — essentially unprotected — to explain to the angry Navajos and others that the Mormons were not to blame. As Compton relates, Hamblin calmly asserted his innocence as Indians in the council were telling him he would soon be tortured and murdered as a payback. Hamblin survived that experience, and his explanation of the massacre ultimately overrode a biased report from a corrupt Indian agent who disliked Mormons. Only his genuine honesty, respect for the American Indians, and his past history of championing the Indians of the area, saved his life.

Compton’s biography solidifies Hamblin’s legacy as one of the best early explorers of the mid- to late- 19th century. He led exploring teams into pristine lands in and around the Grand Canyon. He led treks into Arizona, and was among the first to visit the Hopis. He moved into barren areas of Arizona, getting past the Colorado River, the Virgin River, going through canyons and along cliffs in areas that might trouble mountain goats. Compton relates Hamblin’s experiences with noted American West explorer John Wesley Powell, correctly noting that Powell relied heavily on Hamblin’s previous excursions, using his knowledge and experience.

In southern Utah, Hamblin settled Santa Clara, Kanab and other areas. A polygamist, he included American Indian women as wives. He was a fierce believer in Mormonism. As Compton explains, he was typical of believers in his era, noting “revelations” and judgments of God that could occur anywhere, in dreams, or while traversing the countryside. One explorer colleague wryly noted a trip in which Hamblin attempted to convert him to Mormonism.

Hamblin was baptized in Wisconsin in 1842. After his wife converted, the family traveled to Nauvoo shortly before the death of Joseph Smith. After the killing of the Mormon prophet, Hamblin gave his alliance to Brigham Young, eventually left Nauvoo after helping build the temple, and endured severe poverty in waiting areas such as Mount Pisgah, and Council Bluffs, Iowa, while waiting, with other Latter-day Saints, to earn the money to travel to Utah. One consolation was a return to Wisconsin and discovering his father, Isaiah, who had been anti-Mormon, had joined the church along with others of the family. They eventually traveled with him to Utah.

There was a severe drawback, though. Hamblin’s wife, Lucinda, left him and the family prior to the trek to Utah. As Compton notes, Hamblin is very harsh to her in his autobiography but conditions themselves were extremely harsh, and Compton adds that Hamblin’s next wife, Rachel, who knew Lucinda, had kinder recollections of her.

Things didn’t get easier for the family. Severe cholera struck their pioneer company while traveling to Utah. Although there were many deaths, and Jacob, Rachel and family members suffered, none of the Hamblin family died.

Although Compton clearly admires his subject, and the book often rebukes more hostile accounts of Hamblin, including John D. Lee’s memoirs, the author does not avoid the failings of Hamblin. Although he was not in southern Utah when the Mountain Meadows Massacre occurred, and would have certainly opposed it, Hamblin did assist Brigham Young and other leaders in misleading authorities of the massacre’s details. He also helped hide suspects, such as John D. Lee, by moving him to remote living spots. And, when Lee became expendable to Brigham Young, Hamblin dutifully testified against him at his trail.

This “disloyalty,” however, is mitigated by the fact that Lee was indeed guilty. As Compton, and others have noted, a key injustice of the aftermath of the Mountain Meadows Massacre is that others clearly as guilty as Lee, were not prosecuted and punished.

Hamblin’s efforts with the Indians were hampered by the widespread inability to understand the deep cultural chasm between the natives and the settlers. In fact, he eventually more or less gave up on working with the Paiutes of southern Utah, turning his expectations to the Hopis in Arizona. His most valuable strengths were his history of integrity with the Indians and his negotiating skills. They were needed often, particularly during the long Black Hawk War, and an 1860 expedition in Navajo in which George A. Smith Jr., the teenage son of LDS apostle George A. Smith, was killed by Indians. Hamblin’s earned trust was used often in dealing with Navajos, a strong tribe, with wealthy farmers, that was decimated by westward expansion.

Hamblin lived a frontier man’s life, often away from his family, as liable to sleep in a leaky tent than a clean bed. He suffered economically due to his church devotion, and that caused hardship for his wives and children. The “apostle to the Indians,” and his family, dealt with floods and parched conditions, and threats from Indians. His sorrows included returns from long explorations only to learn a child had died. He lived to age 67, dying of malaria in his own bed at the family home.

-- Originally published at StandardNET

Joseph Smith biography does not shy away from historical scrutiny

This review was originally published in 2005 at StandardNET.

Today is the bicentennial of Joseph Smith’s birth. Two hundred years later, his claims of divine guidance are debated with as much ferocity — if not violence — as when he was alive. Unquestioned is the success of the church he established. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints claims more than 12 million members. Its influence stretches beyond the ecclesiastical, reaching into political, judicial and financial chambers.

What made Joseph Smith’s church so far-reaching? Columbia Professor emeritus Richard Lyman Bushman’s “Joseph Smith: Rough Stone Rolling,” offers clues. Bushman’s Joseph (he prefers the first name throughout the biography) is a prophet who slowly realized his calling. Sophistication as a religious leader and understanding of his religious calling took years. Smith was prone to anger and forgiveness, fear and courage, capable of finding talented people and seriously misjudging others.

Bushman’s catholic interpretation of Smith’s gradually adjusting to being a prophet is refreshing. As a believing Mormon, I am tired of watching films or reading books where, if you squint your eyes and look hard enough, you can either see or imagine the halo just above Joseph Smith’s head. Latter-day prophets and other church leaders are too often regarded as perfect individuals, rather than sinners, who like anyone else, make mistakes in their lives, seek forgiveness and continue to learn.

This fanciful view can extend to LDS Church history. Bushman, a Mormon, does not dismiss uncomfortable topics: Smith’s dabblings in money-digging; differing accounts of revelations; vigilante operations that exacerbated problems with frontier neighbors; a failed bank that seriously harmed the early church; political grandstanding that threatened longtime settlers; the secrecy of early plural marriage. All are discussed and, at least, placed in a context more even-handed than, say, an anti-Mormon website or ministry.

Bushman writes, “Joseph Smith did not offer himself as an examplar of virtue. He told his followers not to expect perfection. Smith called himself a rough stone, thinking of his own impetuosity and lack of polish.”

Readers may be surprised to discover that Smith visited President Martin Van Buren in an unsuccessful attempt to seek reparations from Missouri. Also, the prophet was involved in early preparations to move the church to the Rocky Mountains.

Prophets claiming revelations were common in Smith’s time. So why do his claims endure today? One reason from Bushman: The prophet did not make himself the center of early prostlyting efforts. Missionaries promised latter-day revelation, priesthood authority and a gathering of Israel. These three themes are prominent in an early newspaper article by Oliver Cowdery, reprinted in “Rough Stone Rolling.” It was these doctrines that gathered converts by the thousands.

To Bushman, the temple-endowment session is another reason Mormonism did not disappear. To many converts, it provided a path to deity. “This transition gave Mormonism’s search for direct access to God an enduring form. … The Mormon temple’s sacred story stabilized and perpetuated the original enthusiastic endowment,” writes Bushman.

Bushman describes the isolation of early frontier America. The reader understands the perils Mormons faced from larger mobs. Law and order was controlled by the largest bloc. Groups howling for murder, rape and pillaging were not necessarily stopped.

Early Mormons were responsible at times for inciting anger, but “Rough Stone Rolling” relates the fear of being surrounded by hostile forces with no protection.

Politicians in a position to help were either opportunists, such as Missouri Gov. Lilburn W. Boggs, or appeasers like Gov. Thomas Ford of Illinois, who talked blandly of a nonexistent rule of law.

Comprehending the obsessive hatred that drove the murder of Smith still remains a mystery, though Bushman tries to explain it. What caused ordinary men, such as newspaper editor Thomas Sharp — perhaps most responsible for Smith’s murder — to call for killing?

Bushman writes, “It was fear of the familiar gone awry. … Joseph was hated for twisting the common faith in biblical prophets into the visage of the arrogant fanatic, just as the abolitionists twisted the principle of equal rights into an attack on property in slaves. Both turned something powerful and valued into something dangerous. Frustrated and infuriated, ordinary people trampled down law and democratic order to destroy their imagined enemies.”

After the Mormons left Nauvoo, Sharp lived a nonviolent small-town life, serving as mayor, justice of the peace and judge.

“Rough Stone Rolling” will not satisfy those who hate Mormonism or those who wish to shield the faith from historical scrutiny. But Bushman’s superior biography of an interesting life will leave most wanting to learn more.

-- Doug Gibson

Review: Parley P. Pratt: The Apostle Paul of Mormonism

Review by Doug Gibson

It’s been a long wait for the biography of Parley P. Pratt, the irascible, in-your-face 19^th century Mormon apostle who, like the man he idolized, LDS founder Joseph Smith, met his end via assassination.  Not even a Deseret Books hagiography has been published.  Mass market accounts of Pratt’s complex life have been relegated to his autobiography, an exciting first person account that is selectively edited, mostly omitting his marriage and family life and providing virtually no details of his death at the hands of a cuckold whose wife Pratt had added to his polygamous family.  A mediocre biography, published 75 years ago, is forgotten.

Hopefully, “Parley P. Pratt: The Apostle Paul of Mormonism” (Oxford University Press, 2011) will restore Pratt to the prominence he enjoyed during Mormonism’s first 100 years.  Scholars Terryl L. Givens and Matthew J. Grow have provided a well-researched, unbiased account of his life that includes a detailed look into his personal life, including his 12 marriages, his near apostasy in 1837 after a church bank failure and his estrangement and reunion with his equally gifted brother and fellow apostle, Orson.

The biography reads well enough to be enjoyed by the casual consumer.  However, perhaps the most valuable contribution the biography offers is that Givens and Grow have had translated –from 19 century shorthand – a collection of previously unavailable discourses that Pratt delivered in the last decade of his life.  It is not an exaggeration to say that very few Latter-day Saints comprehend how much of their church’s complex doctrine regarding eternal life, pre-existence, and the existence of matter and spirit, derives from Pratt’s teachings, pamphlets, and two books, “Voice of Warning” and “Key to the Science of Theology.”  Now largely forgotten, those books were once ubiquitous in LDS homes.  As Givens and Grow relate, Pratt wrote, “The individual thinking being never ceases to live and think and act.  (It) never ceases those sympathies and affections which are … the inherent principles of their eternal existence.”

Pratt reveled in and adored the doctrines that today’s LDS Church – while not repudiating – is shy to discuss.  Pratt spoke often of the eternal existence of matter, the existence of countless gods furiously working on as many planets, and, of course, Pratt was a staunch defender of polygamy.  The authors theorize that as much of Pratt’s inspiration for these complex doctrines likely derived from private, unrecorded, conversations he had with Joseph Smith over 14 years.

Pratt was a product of his times, born poor in the midst of a religious awakening in the early 19^th century.  Long before he was a Mormon, he sought New Testament-type active religion, with revelations, spiritual gifts and proper authority of God.  Pratt was part of a growing faction of pre-millennialism believers who believed that Christ’s coming would occur to overcome evil, rather than as a complement to a world that had achieved righteousness, which was the more popular post-millennialism belief of that era.

The authors concede that Pratt was an extremely valuable convert.  He was also likely the first Mormon convert swayed by the Book of Mormon, rather than the charismatic Smith.  The Book of Mormon, Pratt believed, confirmed his belief in latter-day revelation.  Pratt’s baptism paved the way for tens of thousands of converts, including brother Orson, renowned preacher Sidney Rigdon and future LDS Prophet John Taylor.

The subtitle “The Apostle Paul of Mormonism” fits Pratt, as he clearly identified himself and his calling with those of the apostles in The Book of Acts.  Like Paul, Pratt was willing to confront poverty, persecution, disgust, disbelief, and sacrifice to preach what he believed.  He relished debate, and despite his lack of schooling, was rarely defeated by opponents.  He also was not afraid of death.

Although his recurring poverty frustrated him at times, he would end all profitable business on a moment’s notice when called to a new mission by Smith or Brigham Young.  Indeed, it is hard to imagine Pratt fitting in with today’s staid, public relations-conscious LDS Church, with its compensated, elderly, well-attired apostles.

Pratt’s value to the young church’s survival was critical in the couple of years after Smith was martyred.  Through visits to the East Coast, Britain, and preaching in the Church’s center of Nauvoo Ill, Pratt solidified Young’s claims to lead the LDS Church, eliminating such rivals as William Law, James L. Strange, Rigdon, David Whitmer, Samuel Smith, and Samuel Brannan.  Pratt also played a key role in the migration of LDS members to the Salt Lake valley and later led an exploratory mission to Southern Utah and headed missions to San Francisco and even South America.

Pratt’s single-mindedness sometimes caused clashes with Young, who reproved the apostle for rash behavior that included rushed marriages.  Pratt was at time intemperate, fleeing debts, ignoring Young’s directions, taking wives in secret and not bothering with securing divorces for two.

The practice of polygamy led to a divorce from his second wife, and another abandoned him shortly after arriving in the Salt Lake Valley.  By all accounts though, the authors write that Pratt’s relations with his children and remaining spouses were loving and cordial.

Givens and Grow have produced a triumphant biography that gets as close to knowing the enigmatic Pratt as any biographer has.  There will always be gaps in Pratt’s life that invite speculation: his private conversations with Smith; his relationship with his much older first wife, Thankful, who died after childbirth; and what motivated him to recklessly help his last wife, Eleanor, try to escape to Utah with her children.  That failed attempt guaranteed Pratt’s death at the hands of her first husband and an enabling extralegal culture that condoned murder as a penalty for adultery.

Pratt’s legacy extends far beyond his 50 years.  Love him or hate him, Givens and Grow have provided readers with a biography worthy of their subject’s talents.

Originally published in 2011 at StandardNet

Lincoln used diplomacy to charm the once-hostile Mormons

Originally published at StandardBlogs in 2011. 

The crude, casual racism of a long-ago era is striking in this Nov. 28, 1860 Deseret News advertisement from merchant George Goddard. (page one of four) It reads, “Abe Lincoln, Republican, elected by a large majority!!!, immense excitement!, Democrats all but crazy!!!, Niggers rejoicing at the prospect of freedom!!! and before they are all let loose — over 4,000,000, Geo. Goddard is determined to close out his present stock of goods at the following reduced prices: What follows is a list or ordinary merchandise, everything from grey overshirts, to fine tooth brushes, to tobacco to McGuffey's Readers, etc.

Mr. Goddard's published bigotry underscores the hostility that Utah's Latter-day Saint hierarchy greeted the presidential election of Republican Abraham Lincoln 151 years ago. Historian George U. Hubbard, writing in the Spring, 1963 issue of the Utah Historical Quarterly, notes that the election of Lincoln was greeted with derisive speeches by Mormon leaders, including Church President Brigham Young and apostle George A. Smith. As Hubbard writes in, “Abraham Lincoln as seen by the Mormons,” the Illinois president was described as “weak as water” or as a “King Abraham” who would oversee the destruction of the United States. Prominent Mormon John D. Lee, who would later be executed for the Mountain Meadows Massacre, referred to Lincoln as “the Black Republican,” recounts Hubbard.

The Deseret News editorialized on Feb. 27, 1861, that “…Abraham the I. has, in all probability, been installed into office as successor of James the IV (James Buchanan) … we still believe as we have for many years, that the Union, about which so much has been and is being said, will go to destruction …”

Apostle Smith publicly worried that Lincoln's crusade against slavery would extend to persecution of Utah Mormons. Smith, after blasting Lincoln's anti-slavery crusade as “a priestly influence,” added that “the spirit of priestcraft” would lead to him putting “to death, if it was in his power, every man that believes in the divine mission of Joseph Smith, or that bears testimony to the doctrines he preached.”

Hubbard's piece notes the irony of the Utah antipathy for Lincoln. In fact, it had been his chief opponent, Democrat Stephen A. Douglas, who had been most critical of Utah Mormons during the 1860 campaign. The reason for Utah opposition to Lincoln was two-fold. The Republican Party platform of that era described slavery and polygamy as the “twin relics of barbarism.” That must have stung Utah Mormons, who had only recently admitted that their church promoted and practiced polygamy. The second reason for opposition to Lincoln by the Mormon faith was rooted in LDS theology. Mormon doctrine sees the establishment of the United States as overseen by God. As Hubbard writes, “To the Mormons the election of Lincoln meant the dissolution of the Union, a nation whose creation was divinely inspired.”

With those concerns, it's perhaps not surprising that the LDS Church hierarchy was a strong opponent of the Emancipation Proclamation, Lincoln's plans to free the slaves. The Deseret News, which spoke only what church leaders' approved of, blasted the idea, describing it as radical and unconstitutional. The Deseret News wrote, “He (Lincoln) is fully adrift on the current of radical fanaticism” and further described the president as having been “coerced by the insanity of radicals…”

Harsh words, nevertheless, history tells us that two years later Utah's religious leadership, and by extension its citizens, were strong supporters of President Lincoln, cheering his re-election victory and later mourned and paid tribute to Lincoln after his assassination. The about face in support, explains Hubbard, was due to the president's extraordinary diplomatic skills.

Lincoln was no stranger to the “Mormon question.” As a Whig legislator in Illinois in the early 1840s, he had sought — like any other pol — the support of the Mormon voting bloc. In fact, in one election Lincoln had assumed support from the Mormons only to see it taken away by Joseph Smith for political reasons. The future president was too mature a politician to allow the snub to have long-term consequences, and refrained from harsh criticism of the church.

Hubbard writes that the first significant positive response Lincoln received from church leaders was in April 1862 when he bypassed federal officials and instead directly asked Brigham Young to supply an armed force to protect telegraph and mail lines from Indians. Hubbard writes: “The Mormon leaders were delighted with this recognition and demonstration of confidence on the part of the federal government, and their response was immediate.”

Lincoln's diplomatic skills further charmed Utah Mormons after a dispute — common in that era — erupted between church leaders and the non-Mormon leadership of the Utah territory.

Instead of the norm, which would have been to take the civilian official's side, Lincoln responded with a compromise solution. He provided the Mormons some political victories, as well as the civilian leadership. One significant move was that the anti-Mormon governor was removed from office.

The clinching act of diplomacy that endeared Lincoln to Utah Mormons, Hubbard relates, was an interview that the president provided then-active Mormon T.B.H. Stenhouse in 1863. The thrust of Lincoln's remarks as to the Mormons was to let them have autonomy in Utah. Lincoln, to Stenhouse, said, “You go back and tell Brigham Young that if he will let me alone, I will let him alone.”

That advice was manna to Mormon leaders, who had sought without success such a policy for 33 years. From that point on, the Mormon change of opinion on Lincoln was complete. Hubbard writes, “As a result, the Mormon population had become fervent supporters of Abraham Lincoln, and they were looking forward to his re-election.”

The death of Lincoln united, at least temporarily, Mormons and gentiles who flocked to the Tabernacle for an overflow memorial service for the president in April 1865. Future LDS leader Wilford Woodruff delivered the benediction. As Hubbard related in 1963, Abraham Lincoln has been a revered figure in the Mormon faith ever since. Nothing has changed in 2011, 48 years later.

-- Doug Gibson