CHAPTER XXXVII.
At last we arrived at the plantation of Mr. Courtenay: the house was oneof the very few buildings in the United States in which taste wasdisplayed. A graceful portico, supported by columns; large verandahs,sheltered by jessamine; and the garden so green and so smiling, with itsavenues of acacias and live fences of holly and locust, all recalled tomy mind the scenes of my childhood in Europe. Every thing was so neatand comfortable; the stables so airy, the dogs so well housed, and theslaves so good-humoured-looking, so clean and well dressed.
When we descended from our horses, a handsome lady appeared at theportico, with joy and love beaming in her face, as five or six beautifulchildren, having at last perceived our arrival, left their play towelcome and kiss their father. A lovely vision of youth and beauty alsomade its appearance--one of those slender girls of the South, a woman offifteen years old, with her dark eyelashes and her streaming ebony hair;slaves of all ages--mulattoes and quadroon girls, old negroes and boynegroes, all calling together--"Eh! Massa Courtenay, kill plenty bear,dare say; now plenty grease for black family, good Massa Courtenay."
Add to all this, the dogs barking and the horses neighing, and truly thewhole _tableau_ was one of unbounded affection and happiness, I doubtif, in all North America, there is another plantation equal to that ofMr. Courtenay.
I soon became an inmate of the family, and for the first time enjoyedthe pleasures of highly-polished society. Mrs. Courtenay was anadmirable performer upon the harp; Miss Emma Courtenay, her niece, was adelightful pianist; and my host himself was no mean amateur upon theflute. Our evenings would pass quickly away, in reading Shakspeare,Corneille, Racine, Metastasio, or the modern writers of Englishliterature: after which we would remain till the night had far advanced,enjoying the beautiful compositions of Beethoven, Gluck, and Mozart, orthe brilliant overtures of Donizetti, Bellini, and Meyerbeer.
Thus my time passed like a happy dream, and as, from the rainy seasonhaving just set in, all travelling was impossible. I remained many weekswith my kind entertainers, the more willingly, that the various trials Ihad undergone had, at so early an age, convinced me that, upon earth,happiness was too scarce not to be enjoyed when presented to you. Yet inthe midst of pleasure I did not forget the duty I owed to my tribe, andI sent letters to Joe Smith, the Mormon leader at Nauvoo, that we mightat once enter into an arrangement. Notwithstanding the bad season, wehad some few days of sunshine, in which pretty Miss Emma and I wouldtake long rambles in the woods; and sometimes, too, my host would invitethe hunters of his neighbourhood, for a general _battue_ against bears,deer, and wild cats. Then we would encamp out under good tents, andduring the evening, while smoking near our blazing fires, I would hearstories which taught me more of life in the United States than if I hadbeen residing there for years.
"Dis-moi qui tu frequentes, je te dirai qui tu es," is the old Frenchproverb. Mr. Courtenay never chose his companions but among the moreintellectual classes of the society around him, and, of course, thesestories were not only well told, but interesting in their subject. Oftenthe conversation would fall upon the Mormons, and perceiving how anxiousI was to learn anything about this new sect, my host introduced me to avery talented gentleman, who had every information connected with theirhistory. From him I learned the particulars which gave rise toMormonism, undoubtedly the most extraordinary imposition of thenineteenth century.
There existed years ago a Connecticut man, named Solomon Spalding, arelation of the one who invented the wooden nut-megs. By following himthrough his career, the reader will find him a Yankee of the true stock.He appears at first as a law student; then as a preacher, a merchant,and a bankrupt; afterwards he becomes a blacksmith in a small westernvillage: then a land speculator and a county schoolmaster; later still,he becomes the owner of an iron-foundry; once more a bankrupt; at last awriter and a dreamer.
As might be expected, he died a beggar somewhere in Pennsylvania, littlethinking that, by a singular coincidence, one of his productions (the"Manuscript found"), redeemed from oblivion by a few rogues, wouldprove in their hands a powerful weapon, and be the basis of one of themost anomalous, yet powerful secessions which has ever been experiencedby the Established Church.
We find, under the title of the "Manuscript found," an historicalromance of the first settlers of America, endeavouring to show that theAmerican Indians are the descendants of the Jews, or the lost tribes. Itgives a detailed account of their journey from Jerusalem, by land and bysea, till they arrived in America, under the command of Nephi and Lehi.They afterwards had quarrels and contentions, and separated into twodistinct nations, one of which is denominated Nephites, and the otherLamanites.
Cruel and bloody wars ensued, in which great multitudes were slain. Theyburied their dead in large heaps, which caused the mounds now socommonly found on the continent of America. Their knowledge in the artsand sciences, and their civilization, are dwelt upon, in order toaccount for all the remarkable ruins of cities and other curiousantiquities, found in various parts of North and South America.
Solomon Spalding writes in the biblic style, and commences almost everysentence with, "And it came to pass,"--"Now, it came to pass."
Although some powers of imagination, and a degree of scientificinformation are displayed throughout the whole romance, it remained forseveral years unnoticed, on the shelves of Messrs. Patterson andLambdin, printers, in Pittsbourg.
Many years passed, when Lambdin the printer, having failed, wished _toraise the wind by some book speculation_. Looking over the variousmanuscripts then in his possession, the "Manuscript found," venerable inits dust, was, upon examination, looked upon as a gold mine, which wouldrestore to affluence the unfortunate publisher. But death summonedLambdin away, and put an end to the speculation, as far as his interestswere concerned.
Lambdin had intrusted the precious manuscript to his bosom friend,Sidney Rigdon, that he might embellish and alter it, as he might thinkexpedient. The publisher now dead, Rigdon allowed this _chef-d'oeuvre_to remain in his desk, till, reflecting upon his precarious means, andupon his chances of obtaining a future livelihood, a sudden idea struckhim. Rigdon well knew his countrymen, and their avidity for themarvellous; he resolved to give to the world the "_manuscript found_,"not as a mere work of imagination or disquisition, as its writer hadintended it to be, but as a new code of religion, sent down to man, asof yore, on awful Sinai, the tables were given unto Moses.
For some time, Rigdon worked very hard, studying the Bible, altering hisbook, and preaching every Sunday. As the reader may easily imagine, ourBible student had been, as well as Spalding, a Jack-of-all-trades,having successively filled the offices of attorney, bar keeper, clerk,merchant, waiter, newspaper editor, preacher, and, finally, a hanger-onabout printing-offices, where he could always pick up some little job inthe way of proof correcting and so forth.
To us this variety of occupations may appear very strange, but among theunsettled and ambitious population of the United States, men at the ageof fifty have been, or at least have tried to be everything, not ingradation, from the lowest up to the highest, but just as it mayhappen--doctor yesterday and waiter to-day--the Yankee philosopher willto-morrow run for a seat in legislature; if he fails, he may turn aMethodist preacher, a Mormon, a land speculator, a member of the "NativeAmerican Society," or a mason--that is to say, a journeyman mason.
Two words more upon Rigdon, before we leave him in his comparativeinsignificance! He is undoubtedly the father of Mormonism, and theauthor of the "Golden Book," with the exception of a few subsequentalterations made by Joe Smith. It was easy for him, from the firstplanning of his intended imposture to publicly discuss, in the pulpit,many strange points of controversy, which were eventually to become thecorner-stones of the structure which he wished to raise.
The novelty of the discussions was greedily received by many, and, ofcourse, prepared them for that which was coming. Yet, it seems thatRigdon soon perceived the evils which his wild imposture would generate,and he recoi
led from his task, not, because there remained lurking inhis breast some few sparks of honesty, but because he wanted courage; hewas a scoundrel, but a timorous one, and always in dread of thepenitentiary. With him, Mormonism was a mere money speculation, and heresolved to shelter himself behind some fool who might bear the wholeodium, while he would reap a golden harvest, and quietly retire beforethe coming of a storm. But, as is often the case, he reckoned withouthis host; for it so happened that, in searching for a tool of thisdescription, he found in Joe Smith one not precisely what he hadcalculated upon. He wanted a compound of roguery and folly as his tooland slave; Smith was a rogue and an unlettered man, but he was whatRigdon was not aware of--a man of bold conception, full of courage andmental energy, one of those unprincipled, yet lofty, aspiring beings,who, centuries past, would have succeeded as well as Mahomet, and whohas, even in this more enlightened age, accomplished that which iswonderful to contemplate.
When it was too late to retract, Rigdon perceived with dismay that,instead of acquiring a silly bondsman, he had subjected himself to asuperior will; he was now himself a slave, bound by fear and interest,his two great guides through life. Smith consequently became, instead ofRigdon, "the elect of God," and is now at the head of thousands, a greatreligious and political leader.
From the same gentleman, I also learned the history of Joseph Smith; andI will lay before the reader what, from various documents, I havesucceeded in collecting concerning this remarkable impostor, togetherwith a succinct account of the rise and progress of this new sect, as itis a remarkable feature in the history of nations.
The Travels and Adventures of Monsieur Violet in California, Sonora, and Western Texas Page 37
