http://www.geocities.com/Athens/Oracle/7207/rev.html
dictionary definition of "naturalism," see below) perspectives.
Bachman also stated that I was a proponent of a naturalistic (atheistic)
world view, and portrayed me as a John C. Bennett (the apostate,
ex-General Authority who wrote a shallow anti-Mormon exposé of
Joseph Smith), Eber Howe (a writer of one of the first overtly
anti-Mormon books) and even early Christian Gnostic Marcion (who
taught that the God of the Old Testament was evil). The
characterizations of me as atheistic I find completely mystifying, as I
overtly stated in my book that I was a practicing Mormon who
believed in God and the supernatural. I will respond to the ad hominem
aspects of Anderson, Faulring and Bachman's responses at greater
length below.
Truth, Honesty and Moderation in Mormon History: A Response to
Anderson, Faulring and Bachman's Reviews of In Sacred Loneliness
Todd M. Compton
first published in pamphlet form and on the internet, July 2001
This is a response to the two reviews of my In Sacred Loneliness found
in Farms Review of Books, Volume 10, Number 2, 1998, the first by
Richard Lloyd Anderson and Scott Faulring, pp. 67-104, and the
second by Danel Bachman, pp. 105-137. I submitted an earlier version
of this response to the Farms Review of Books, but the editor showed a
marked lack of enthusiasm for publishing it, so I decided to publish it
myself. It is available in pamphlet form and on the internet at
http://www.geocities.com/Athens/Oracle/7207/rev.html. To order
signed copies of the pamphlet version (price not yet determined),
contact me at ba748@lafn.org or tdmagos@yahoo.com. [Note: The
textual tradition for both versions will change with time. Even now,
there are probably textual variations between the two versions, though
I have tried to keep them exactly the same.]
Credo
This is my credo, as a Mormon who looks on himself as believing, and
as a historian who tries to be honest and balanced:
I believe that all truth is faith-promoting, if we're talking about
authentic faith. No authentic truth damages authentic faith. Truth, even
difficult truths, will only deepen and give breadth of vision to
authentic faith. Only brittle, oversimplified faith will break easily
when confronted with difficult truths. When we face difficult truths,
we should not sensationalize them, but we should deal with them
straightforwardly and honestly, using historical context and
sympathetic insight to put them into perspective. Sometimes, when we
have had oversimplified faith, we will need to deepen and broaden our
faith to include tragedy and contradiction and human limitation, but
that is not a matter of giving up our faith -- it is a matter of developing
our faith. I realize that this can be a painful process at times, but it is a
process that gives our faith more solidity and more breadth. The eye of
faith sees greater depth, perspectives, and gradations of color; the heart
of faith responds more to the tragedies of our bygone brothers and
sisters, who become more real and more sympathetic to us.
These are basically negative reviews, though Anderson and Faulring
include a few positive sentences. I am sorry that I was not able to write
a book that any of the three reviewers could recommend, but I have
always realized that there would be segments of the Mormon audience
that would not embrace my book with open arms. I should say at the
outset that my book is certainly not perfect, and it will not be the final
word on the subject, so I welcome constructive criticism and further
research on the same and related topics, and good faith discussion of
issues found in my book. I certainly do not expect everyone to agree
with me at all times. Of course, my book represents my best judgment
based on all the relevant evidence I was able to find, so I will usually
stick with that judgment, unless there is significant new information or
a new and convincing interpretation emerges. Therefore it should be
no surprise that I disagree with these reviewers on most of their
critiques. However, on occasion Anderson, Faulring and Bachman
have brought up issues that deserve careful inspection, and I am
grateful that their disagreement has allowed me to re-examine the
issues again.
I believe that the gospel includes all truth, and all truth is part of the
gospel.
I believe that the gospel is afraid of no truth. All truths, both the
brightness of love and the shadows of tragedy, contribute to the
infinite beauty of the gospel.
At times these reviewers' tone shaded toward polemic, ad hominem
attack, which is extremely unfortunate. Ad hominem attack does not
require careful scholarship, doing your homework; it merely requires a
few colorful, extreme adjectives or associations. For a scholar, it is the
lazy way out. It is unfortunate that writers representing the Church
Educational System (Bachman), the BYU Religion Department
(Anderson) and FARMS/Joseph Fielding Smith Institute for
Latter-day Saint History (Faulring) should feel the need to use ad
hominem attack rather than seriously entering into the discussion of
Joseph Smith and his plural wives. Anderson and Faulring, ignoring
my numerous criticisms of Brodie, portrayed me as a writer in Brodie's
school, a psychohistorian with naturalistic (atheistic, by the standard,
It includes such standard “problem” areas in Mormon history as
different accounts of the First Vision[1]; folk magic in the Book of
Mormon translation,[2][3]; the textual history of the Doctrine and
Covenants [4]; Joseph Smith's polygamy[5]; the Mountain Meadows
Massacre[6][7]; speculative doctrines taught by Brigham Young that
have not survived into the modern church[8]; post-Manifesto
polygamy[9]; non-egalitarian attitudes held by some leaders[10];
different interpretations of the Word of Wisdom.[11] The
documentation for these issues is all true; these events are all part of
the gospel. (Much else is also part of the gospel, including examples of
selfless heroism on the part of Mormon pioneers; quiet endurance of
many Mormons as they suffered persecutions; Mormon leaders and
husbands treating their wives with sensitivity as equal partners;
The gospel includes heights and depths. It includes shining, dazzling
light, and darkest shadow -- and everything in between, all shades of
gray. It includes knowledge of God, but it also includes knowledge of
Satan. It includes knowledge of great and good men and women, and
of deeply flawed men and women. It also includes men and women
who have great goodness and serious flaws at the same
time -- sometimes, seemingly, on alternate days. It includes aspects of
reality that are supposedly "secular" -- science, economics, music,
history. (See D&C 93:53.)
Mormons quietly, harmoniously working together in communitarian
societies out of devotion to the highest principles of Christ's gospel;
President Kimball's receiving the inspiration giving priesthood status
to blacks.[12]) How you make "problem issues" part of the gospel is
one question[13]; but the idea that you should just shunt them to the
side and ignore them is a stance that betrays a lack of faith in the
breadth and strength of the gospel. In addition, such a stance, given our
church's high ideals, is simply dishonest. (And, in addition, absurdly
impractical. Non- Mormon scholars have begun to study Mormonism
seriously; will we hope that they will simply follow a gentleman's
agreement to ignore such crucial events as Joseph Smith's first vision,
his method of translating the Book of Mormon, his marriages and
innovative marriage doctrines, Brigham Young's doctrinal ideas, the
1
Church's transition from polygamous to monogamous organization?)
Is dishonesty justified if it serves to increase faith? The quick, obvious
answer is no. But policies which support an oversimplified,
sentimentalized view of faith -- and seek to use methods of official
control to minimize true history, including censoring primary
historical documents and attacking historians through ad hominem
methods -- subscribe to this idea. When part of an organization
becomes committed to an incorrect perspective, the smallest attempt to
defend dishonesty adds layers of dishonesty to the original problem.
For extreme conservatives, who believe in a view of the gospel in
which all church leaders always make the right decision, and for whom
church leaders never disagree among themselves, these issues conflict
head-on with a fragile, impractical oversimplified gospel; therefore,
their only option is to ignore these issues entirely -- both on an
individual level (not researching and thinking about these issues in
their own minds, hearts and spirits) and on an organizational level.
You preserve an absolute silence, not admitting that any of these
problem-issues happened. You discourage others from thinking about
and researching these issues. And when they do, even if they are trying
to deal with the issues within a context of faith, you try to change the
playing field by labeling the historians as the problems, rather than
grappling with the problem issues themselves.
The example given above, using Joseph Smith's height, is expressed in
terms of a positive misstatement. But telling untruths through omission
is equally as dishonest. If a used car dealer knows his car has a serious,
though silent, internal flaw, and sells the car anyway to a kindly old
lady, pockets her money, and as a result, the car breaks down in the
middle of the Arizona desert, endangering her life, he is as thoroughly
dishonest, in an exploitative way, as the person who overtly tells the
lady a positive untruth. Concealing a relevant fact that can be
perceived as negative is a form of dishonesty.
However, the gospel is more complex, and more beautiful, and
possessing more depth, than extreme conservatives give it credit for.
When they create an oversimplified, narrow, sentimentally idealized,
shallow view of the gospel, and orient their faith toward that
oversimplified view, obviously the primary historical documents, and
anyone who reflects those primary documents honestly, will
undermine such shallow faith. The fault is not the historian who
reflects that complexity of historical reality in line with the documents
in the archives and the infinite complexity of true faith. The fault is the
extreme conservatives who live by, and demand that others accept, an
oversimplified view of the gospel.
Juanita Brooks was raised being told that Indians perpetrated the
Mountain Meadows Massacre.[15] Indians, in fact, were involved in
the massacre. However, leaving out Mormon involvement gave a
flagrantly untrue view of the event. Aside from the violence to the
ideal of truth found in such a retelling, this crucial omission of a
relevant truth made the Native Americans look worse than they were.
(In fact, recent evidence indicates that Native Americans played an
entirely secondary, even passive, role in the Massacre.) So an "untruth
of omission" can be just as destructive and dishonest as a positive
misstatement.[16]
Granted, many church members and leaders accept such
oversimplified views of the gospel, and strive to make to make such
views the "official," untouchable version. But to the extent they do,
they are doing the church and their faith a disservice, because they are
propounding a version of faith that is unworkable.
So who was destroying faith: the "loyal" Mormons who told the false
story of the Mountain Meadows Massacre leaving Mormons out, or
Juanita Brooks, who truthfully told the story of the massacre with the
Mormons thoroughly involved?
To give an example. According to one of his biographers, Joseph
Smith was about six feet tall.[14] Let's say that a church
member -- who sincerely wants to build people's faith -- decides he
will portray Joseph Smith as 6 foot 7 inches in a historical movie. This
is incorrect, but the 6 foot 7 idea catches on, becomes current in the
church. To some people, Joseph Smith as 6 foot 7 becomes a cherished
part of their testimony. However, a historian -- who let's say is also a
church member -- comes across Joseph Smith's burial record, that
gives his height correctly as about 6 foot. The historian publishes an
article showing Joseph Smith's true height. The media picks up the
story and the movie writer, believing he has a mission as a defender of
the faith, denounces the historian as malevolently diminishing people's
faith in Joseph Smith.
Some church members might find this argument illogical, or
paradoxical. How can learning about the Mountain Meadows
Massacre, in which southern Utah church leaders made a decision so
disastrously wrong as to cause one of the most horrifying massacres in
the history of the West, build faith? How can reading about those
excruciating, violent events, which caused such a tragic inheritance of
guilt among church members in southern Utah, build faith?
Yet I remember talking about Juanita Brooks's book, Mountain
Meadows Massacre, with a stake president once when I was at BYU.
He said early in his marriage he read it, his wife read it, they talked
about it. They absorbed the lessons from this tragic episode and made
these lessons part of their holistic faith perspective.
Now who is right and who is wrong in that situation? Who is honest
and who is dishonest? Who is authentically diminishing faith: the
writer of historical movies (who, motivated by sincere loyalty to the
church and its missionary effort, orients church members' faith on an
untrue datum that will not hold up) or the historian who carefully
reflects a document showing a true fact? Certainly, Joseph Smith
seemingly has less stature based on the true facts, but only in reference
to the inflated view of his height that was incorrect. The seeming
experience of diminishment is the result of an incorrect inflation.
Who has more faith: someone whose faith can include uncomfortable,
painful truths, or someone whose faith cannot include them, so
excludes them from his own faithful ponderings and explorations, and
seeks to prevent others from developing holistic faith? Is someone who
can go on telling the story of the Mountain Meadows Massacre
without Mormons present really a person of faith? Is the person who
totally ignores the Mountain Meadows Massacre a person of faith? Or
is that person profoundly lacking in authentic faith?
One argument used by some extreme conservatives is that learning
"difficult" truths can be valuable for someone who is seasoned in his or
her faith, who has had many years of experience in the church. But
such truths, they argue, should not be shared with investigators, or new
members, or the youth. (Therefore, such truths should not be
published, because nonmembers and teenagers have complete access
to books on library shelves.) Yet, if leaving out a significant, if
difficult, relevant truth is a form of dishonesty, as I have suggested
above, this argument suggests that we should give investigators and
new members and the youth a dishonest view of our history. Any
thoughtful, truthful person should immediately realize that
investigators and new members and our youth especially deserve
honesty. Therefore, they deserve to hear about the problem
issues -- told in a non-sensational way, and balanced by the positive in
church history -- but they deserve to hear them.
So, paradoxically, "sanitized" history -- which typically is favored by
institutional churches throughout history -- is actually destructive of
2
authentic faith, and is put forth by people whose faith cannot include
the complexity of real events. History that is commonly referred to as
"faith- promoting" (sanitized, in which church members and leaders
are idealized and sentimentalized) is in reality the most destructive of
authentic faith. (And the kinds of policies that censor authentic history
are the kinds that most profoundly undermine authentic faith.)
weaknesses." Yet he could also have great spiritual power. The author
was an apostle and member of the First Presidency for many years–
Hugh B. Brown.
One standard "organizational" response to such an event as the
Mountain Meadows Massacre would be to ignore it entirely, the
stonewalling approach. However, our present Church President,
Gordon B. Hinckley, has met with the descendants organization of the
Mountain Meadows Massacre and spoke at the dedication of
monument at Mountain Meadows on September 15, 1990 and
September 11, 1999. He has opened the archives to descendants of the
Massacre. President Hinckley's willingness to acknowledge and
discuss this tragic event has done much to bring about healing of the
wounds of the massacre in modern times.[19]
"Sanitized" history makes even the good, heroic aspects of Mormon
history (of which there are many) ring false. Telling the "positive"
events in Mormon history while censoring out the bad makes the
positive events reek of propaganda (which is consistent with the open
dishonesty, stupidity, and attempts to control with force used by
totalitarian states). Only when overall balance is found do the "good"
events ring true. Intelligent, moral people (and I see the great majority
of Mormons as intelligent, moral, honest people) see through
propaganda quickly. Aside from the issue of its being offensive
because of its dishonesty, it is also aesthetically
unconvincing -- super-sentimentalized portraits of church leaders
without any faults, whom God moves around like puppets as they
infallibly make right choice after right choice. The only conflict is
between perfect church leaders and perfectly evil Gentile persecutors,
or worse, perfectly evil internal traitors who become "apostates." The
idea that a church leader might face a moral dilemma and make a
wrong choice; the idea that church leaders can disagree on an
important issue; the idea that a Gentile or church member might
disagree with church leaders and still be a good person-- will not
square with this super-sanitized view of Mormon history.
I accept many principles of the gospel that conservatives do, but I
accept them from my perspective, on my own terms, often
accompanied by paradox, tragedy, complexity. Extreme conservatives
might look at aspects of the gospel differently than I do; but they
should not describe me as an atheist, just as I do not accuse them of
atheism. Following are a few of the principles in my faith perspective.
First, I include problematic events in my faith perspective not by
viewing church leaders as infallible,[20] but by recognizing that they
can make serious mistakes. I accept inspiration of many sorts coming
to church leaders on occasion. But an oversimplified view of
revelation and inspiration is that they come to mindless, will-less
puppets, receiving revelation passively, like blank containers for
inspiration to be poured in from on high. Instead, I believe God allows
church leaders complete free will, which means they have to work
through decisions, using all of their resources of thought, doing their
homework or not doing their homework, being tested in their moral
insight. And because they have free will, sometimes they make wrong
choices. They learn through trial and error. Some fail in the major
challenges of their lives. (And often these are behind-the-scene, rather
than melodramatically obvious, failures.) This does not deny that
church leaders often make right choices and receive inspiration. I
believe that the decision to deny blacks the priesthood and temple
ordinances was always an incorrect moral choice; the decision to give
blacks priesthood was both the result of President Kimball and other
general authorities having the moral insight to realize that racial
prejudice was wrong, and the result of inspiration confirming his
realization. I also agree with Apostle James E. Talmage and Eugene
England that polygamy is not a central tenet of Mormonism,[21] that it
will not be the heavenly, eternal form of marriage.[22] Obviously, if
you see polygamy as the central doctrine of the Restoration, as some
nineteenth century Mormons did, this will be seen as a complete
heresy. If you see polygamy as not so central, Talmage, Eugene
England, and I might be considered within the bounds of the church on
this issue.
Just a few examples of balanced history. In a fine article by James
Kimball, he describes the troubled marriage and family life of J.
Golden Kimball.[17] Yet the article allows us to see the folk hero as a
real person, facing tragic events just like we do every day, and it also
gives us insight into his compassionate nature.
Another example, from a relative of J. Golden, is the 1977 biography
of President Spencer W. Kimball by his son and grandson. They wrote
that they "tried to be candid, neither omitting weaknesses and
problems nor exaggerating strengths."[18] Yet that biography is all the
more moving and convincing because in it we see President Kimball as
a real person.
Here is an interesting passage from another wonderful book:
"President [Heber J.] Grant was a tenacious businessman. In banking,
in insurance, in the sugar company, and in other ways, he showed his
ability as a businessman, but much of his success resulted from his
tenacity to put over a deal which, in many instances, I think could be
rather sharp. That was one of his great weaknesses–one that made it
difficult for some people to support him. But I learned, and knew from
the time I went to preside over the British Mission, that in addition to
his financial ability, he was a prophet of God and lived very close to
the Lord." Notice how sympathetic, yet how balanced this character
sketch is. The author asserts that a church president could have "great
Conservative Mormons are somewhat contradictory on the issue of
infallibility of Church leaders. In theory, they are not bound to the idea
of Church leaders as infallible, and there are passages in Mormon
scripture and history that reject the infallibility idea (such as Joseph
Smith's "a prophet is not always a prophet," J. Reuben Clark's talk,
"When Are Church Leaders Inspired," Hugh B. Brown's memoirs, and
many passages in the scriptures, such as Moses's flaws that prevented
him from arriving in the Promised Land, and what Paul said were
Peter's hypocritical actions at Antioch). In practice, however, I believe
Mormons have accepted a very ironclad idea of church leader
infallibility, "priesthood" infallibility. Thus Mormons will say, "Of
course we don't believe in infallibility of church president and
apostles. That's a Catholic idea." But then mildly disagree with an
action of a church leader (which must be done at times, if they make
serious mistakes, as they will if they are fallible), and the Mormon who
has laughingly denied believing in infallibility will bristle angrily.
(Both tendencies can be found in Bachman's response, I believe.)
Yet history is full of mistakes Church leaders have made, along with
their wise and far- seeing actions. I believe that accepting that Church
leaders can make serious mistakes on occasion is a basic necessity for
any serious defence of the church and gospel.
Second, for me, Jesus is the center of my faith, and I believe I stand
with normative Latter-Day Saints in saying that. (Some Mormons
seem to place Joseph Smith at the center of their faith.) And the
teachings of Jesus are the center of my faith -- his teachings of
compassion for the outcast, the underprivileged, the poor, those seen
as lesser beings because of their race or their gender.[23] His
atonement is meaningless unless we try to follow his teachings and
3
actions. (And I certainly do not measure up to his example.) His
teachings, combined with the modern day teachings of such leaders as
Spencer W. Kimball, Howard W. Hunter, Hugh B. Brown, and Lowell
Bennion, have caused me to view ethical concerns as the center of the
gospel. For me, the ethics of Jesus, and the Old Testament prophets is
the lens through which other aspects of the gospel are refracted.
This is, of course, one of the central arguments extreme conservatives
have used to attack the "New Mormon History." The new, revisionist
history has used many models and perspectives (sociological,
economic, feminist, psychological) to view events in Mormon
history -- and extreme conservatives have charged that the such
historians are atheists because sociology, economics, psychology
leave God out of the equation.[24] Important "New Mormon"
historians, such as Leonard Arrington and Thomas G. Alexander, have
argued that for them, God is always part of the equation. All natural
laws, both of science and of society, work in conjunction with God and
his laws. For me, also, God is always part of the equation (and thus I
have no naturalistic (i.e., atheistic) views at all, even in the slightest
form); but this does not prevent me from accepting the laws and data of
science, sociology, ethics, the laws of historical evidence and theory.
Sometimes extreme conservatives denigrate "secular" truth as opposed
to "spiritual" truth, but this is a false dichotomy. In fact, my belief in
God and the gospel includes the totality of truth. There is no conflict
between the intellectual quest and the spiritual quest; they always must
be intertwined. I see everything in history and science through the lens
of the eternal perspective of the gospel, the ethics of the gospel.
Studies in science, sociology, psychology, and history only cause me
to appreciate how the laws of God work.
For instance, in viewing authority, instead of a legalistic, hierarchical
view of it, I believe we need to see authority primarily from the ethical
perspective of Jesus's teachings. This gives us a startling revision of
one commonly accepted Mormon view of priesthood -- instead of a
legalistic view of priesthood leaders as infallible, I see more authority
than Mormons usually do in leaders in other religions, in those who are
not allowed priesthood in our church (including women) -- and less
authority in those few leaders in our church who try to govern by
intimidation and compulsion, instead of through love. (This of course
receives support from the well-known scripture in the Doctrine and
Covenants, 121:37: "When we undertake . . . to exercise control or
dominion or compulsion upon the souls of the children of men, in any
degree of unrighteousness . . . Amen to the priesthood or the authority
of that man.")
Jesus taught over and over again that no aspect of the religious life,
however accepted a part of church practice it might be (praying,
tithing, fasting), has validity unless it is motivated by sincere
compassion and love. He particularly warned against righteous deeds
done for social approbation. In a parable such as the parable of the
good Samaritan, he criticized members of the true priesthood who lack
true love and compassion, and he praised a racially and religiously
impure man who had the spiritual insight to take the time to help a
badly beaten traveler.
Viewing everything in history and science through the lens of the
gospel does not prevent me from making the sincere effort to view
everything in Mormon history with complete honesty – in fact, my
belief in God and God's requirement for honesty on all levels is one of
the factors that motivates me to seek for complete honesty in writing
history. As Juanita Brooks said, "Nothing but the truth is good enough
for my church." Belief in God and loyalty to church and gospel should
inspire the historian to greater honesty in his quest, rather than less.
The idea that willingness to write dishonest history is a test of your
faithfulness, is a profoundly flawed position. (And we should
remember that there are all kinds of shades and variations of dishonest
history, from factual errors, to quiet behind-the-scenes censorship
policies, to the resulting self-censorship, to transparent special
pleading in argumentation, to policies of "silent omission", to subtle
spinning of the truth.) Granted, these forms of dishonesty have been
accepted and used skillfully in law, in business, and in politics. In the
short run they can seem to be effective. But in the short and long run,
they run contrary to the most basic principles of the gospel. I believe
that dishonest attempts to conceal and censor problematic aspects of
Church history hurt the church far more than the problematic aspects
do. Obviously, the true gospel, the true church, does not need
dishonesty, concealment of relevant historical facts, censorship.
Third, I see the supernatural occurring in human events on occasion,
but I do not see it as occurring in such a neat, pat, predictable fashion
as extreme conservatives accept. For instance, I accept miraculous
cures as taking place at times (In Sacred Loneliness records one cure in
Mormon history remarkably attested by a non-Mormon source, p.
230); on the other hand, sometimes cures do not take place when a
neat, pat solution would demand it. I accept the reality of man's
existence before and after death (and again, I could point to examples
of spirits returning after death cited in In Sacred Loneliness).
Furthermore, I accept that God does intervene mysteriously in the
affairs of this world on occasion; but I do not see God as needing to
intervene continuously, second by second, in human events, even in
Mormon history. He works through laws, though infinitely careful
planning; He is bound by law, according to Mormon doctrine.
While there are some church members who advocate policies of
censorship of the truth, i.e., dishonesty on an organizational level,
some prominent Church leaders disagree. When Elders Howard W.
Hunter and Harold B. Lee brought the late Leonard J. Arrington into
the Historical Department to be Church Historian, Apostle Hunter
cautioned him that care and discretion should be used in writing
Mormon history because of reverence church members felt for church
leaders. But he also told him that "he felt the Church was mature
enough that our history should be honest. He did not believe in
suppressing information, hiding documents, or concealing or
withholding minutes for possible censorial scrutiny. He thought we
should publish the documents of our history. Why should we withhold
things that are a part of our history? he asked. He thought it in our best
interest to encourage scholars–to help them and cooperate with them in
doing honest research." President Harold B. Lee said, "The best
defense of the church is the true and impartial account of our
history."[25]
strive for complete honesty. In our jobs and in daily life, we often face
complex ethical decisions that are not easy to work through and act
upon. Some forms of dishonesty can be justified. There are situations
where deception can be used for higher moral purposes (as in the case
of a spy who takes on a false name in order to combat terrorists or
totalitarian states, and who, if captured, will give false information to
confuse and delay the terrorist or totalitarian governments).
Misinformation is a standard aspect of military strategy. If the war is
just, a defensive rather than aggressive war, this is idealistic, morally
justified deception.
In a less charged example, what if a co-worker wears a new shirt or
dress that you personally find in bad taste? The completely honest
response is to say, "What an ugly shirt." Is a more diplomatic response
dishonest or kind? Or both? There is a fine line between expressing
truths bluntly in an insensitive way and expressing truths in such a way
as to soften the blow, without telling actual untruths.
In law, in politics, in advertising, in medicine, in all walks of life, there
are complex decisions involving ethics. (For instance: I have a doctor
Honesty is a complex subject. It is an ideal; the best of us can only
4
friend who has told me that sometimes he does not give patients the
complete truth about the seriousness of their condition immediately.
This is withholding truth, which can be a form of dishonesty. Yet he
does it for practical, compassionate reasons. He does reveal the whole
truth gradually.) The same is true of religion. Sometimes the church
presents ethical dilemmas whose solutions are not obvious and
straightforward at first glance. In this environment, as in others,
sometimes policies in which the whole truth is not disclosed can be
carried out for idealistic reasons.
honestly with problems in church history: I understand that Reed
Durham, while an institute teacher, taught a class called "Problems in
Church History" that introduced college students to a number of
paradoxical, disturbing issues, and discussed them from his
perspective of faith. As a contrast, we have another kind of Church
educator who avoids like the plague even the slightest hint of problems
in church history, creating a view of Mormon history that is entirely
sweetness and light and that has little or no relation to the complexities
of church history and the American west as found in primary
documents. This policy leaves church members defenseless when they
are introduced to real historical problems by anti-Mormon writers
(who do not explain matters from a context of faith). Most seriously,
this policy subscribes to the idea that dishonesty is needed to protect
the church and gospel.
One of the most thoughtful discussions of honesty and deception in
Mormon religion is the appendix to Carmon Hardy's remarkable
history of post-Manifesto polygamy, Solemn Covenant: The Mormon
Polygamous Passage. In this book, he shows how Mormon leaders,
including the First Presidency and Quorum of the Twelve, continued
to practice and encourage polygamy in secret after the Manifesto, in
America, Canada, and Mexico, and how they publicly denied such
practice and encouragement. To them, loyalty to what they considered
a true principle trumped the principle of full disclosure toward
non-Mormons. (Throughout the nineteenth century, a state of extreme
polarization between Mormon and non-Mormon existed, and
Mormons often felt that anti-Mormons, who admittedly were often
extremist, unpleasant figures, did not deserve full ethical
considerations.) In Hardy's appendix, he observes that policies of
"double truth" can be maintained for idealistic reasons. For instance,
the general authorities who denied their own involvement in polygamy
did so motivated by loyalty to (in their view) a higher principle, loyalty
to God, revelation, their forefathers, and the church. Nevertheless,
Hardy concludes that such a conscious "double truth" policy had a
negative impact on the church. When the sub rosa polygamy was
discovered by non-Mormons (as was inevitable), the credibility of
church leaders suffered. Reed Smoot, the non-polygamous Senator
from Utah, was not seated for months as a result. The Smoot hearings
publicly exposed the Mormon "double truth" policy on the issue of
post-Manifesto polygamy. And this confusing policy encouraged the
rise of modern, twentieth-century polygamy. Even though the church
opposes modern polygamy, this modern "fundamentalist" movement,
with all its problems, is partially a result of that difficult transitional
period in which "double truth" sent many Mormons and non-Mormons
mixed or contradictory messages.
Modern church educators and members who seek to censor difficult
truths in Mormon history may be acting out of loyalty to the church.
But such a policy, even if carried out through idealistic motives, will
only damage the church, in both the short and long term. If we agree
that censorship of difficult truths has an unethical component, the
message being propounded is that the church and gospel needs the
support of dishonesty to survive. Which I profoundly believe is not the
case.
Nevertheless, I agree that complete honesty is difficult. No one
achieves it fully. I dedicated ISL to my parents, who gave me "ideals
of faith and honesty." I personally am far from perfect, and can only
strive for those ideals. But ISL was written as an attempt to achieve
those ideals – it was not written as an attack on theism and
Mormonism. It was written profoundly out of loyalty to Mormonism –
accepting the idea that striving for honesty is the best way to prove
your loyalty to the church and gospel, and the only policy that
authentically pleases God. Finally, I should state that though I have
concentrated on LDS extreme conservatives' rejection of balanced,
honest history (because Anderson, Faulring and Bachman have
characterized me as atheist, a Brodie-esque psychohistorian, and a
John C. Bennett figure), the anti-Mormon version of Mormon history
is as dishonest as those who would completely whitewash Mormon
history.
First, anti-Mormons almost by definition entirely eschew balance,
which is a transparently dishonest position. I remember one day when
I was in college going to Special Collections and reading through one
well known anti-Mormon book. The sum total impression of the work
was that no Mormon leader has ever been a good, decent, person.
While some of the factual elements in the book were true, by not even
seeking for balance, the author gave an essentially false perspective on
Mormonism and the Mormon people.
Second, conservative Protestants have often specialized in
anti-Mormon writing. Thus, they apply harsh historical and moral
judgments to Mormonism, but then are unwilling to apply the same
standards of perfection to the Bible and their own traditions. This is an
inconsistent position, showing a lack of principle, fairness and
honesty. (In my view, if they mature, they will come to accept human
failings and textual inconsistencies and errors in both the Biblical and
Mormon traditions, and see both traditions with more sympathy and
compassion.)
To present an example of a Church educator who has grappled
Given my lack of sympathy for anti-Mormon writing, some have
asked me if I regret that I have "given anti-Mormons fuel for their
writing," and if I regret that some anti-Mormons have used my book to
try to further their purposes. I have answered that I do not believe
historians or church members need to worry about how truth is used;
they need to reflect truth as well as they can. Obviously, some people
will misuse truth; that is not the truth's fault. Other people will use
truth in a responsible way. I sincerely believe my book will help to fill
out a mature believer's faith, his or her vision of the infinite breadth
and beauty of the gospel, taken in conjunction with other books of
Mormon history. (I encourage all readers of Mormon history to go to
the works of Leonard Arrington, Juanita Brooks, Lowell Bennion,
Linda King Newell, Valeen Tippetts Avery, Richard Bushman, RLDS
Church Historian Richard Howard, and D. Michael Quinn, and many
others, in conjunction with In Sacred Loneliness.)
out all problems or conflicts, gives much more fuel to anti-Mormons
than does balanced, "honest" history. Non- Mormons will notice a
pervasive strain of dishonesty, including policies of censorship and ad
hominem attack, if such exists in the church. (And any clumsy
attempts to deny or hide such dishonesty will only make the situation
worse.)
Some have asked how I would feel if someone read my book and "lost
faith" in the church. Again, I believe a significant part of the problem
is that such people have often been given an over-idealized,
unbalanced view of history throughout their lives, and when they are
confronted with primary Mormon documents, or Mormon history that
reflects such, there is a feeling of shock, and also a feeling that they
have not been treated with honesty. Whereas, if the church had had a
policy and curriculum of discussing such problem issues in a faithful
context in Sunday School, Seminary and Institute, and pre-baptism
teaching and discussions on problem areas for potential converts, the
I believe that presenting a dishonest view of Mormon history, leaving
5
issue would have been defused years before.
However, there is also a middle ground holding that evolution, in some
form, was part of God's modus operandi of creation. This evolutionist
does not reject fossils, a form of evolution, and the scientific method,
but he or she still accepts that God was involved in these
processes.[26]
Furthermore, I believe that many people in their religious searchings
leave the church for a time, but come back after a time. Such searching
is an individual matter, and I respect individuals' free will and their
need to work things out for themselves. However, when I run across
Mormons in the midst of religious searching, I always encourage them
to stay with the church in some fashion, if they can.
Both ends of the spectrum may consider this middle ground, the
theistic evolutionist, to be a betrayal of the correct position. The
religious anti-evolutionist will consider the middle position to be
starting on the "slippery slope" to atheism, and in fact a form of
atheism. The pro-evolution atheist may consider the middle position
irrationality at best, even a betrayal of the scientific method. Both ends
of the spectrum may see the moderate as secretly siding with the other
end. And the moderate is not accepted as "a real member of the club"
by either side.
Just to reiterate: I believe that all truths, however difficult (whether it is
Joseph Smith's polygamy or the Mountain Meadows massacre), build
authentic faith, taken in conjunction with the totality of the gospel. A
true church needs fear no truth. It is oversimplified, over-idealized,
unbalanced, censored history that undermines authentic faith.
Conservative / Liberal / Moderate
After reading the reviews of Anderson/Faulring and Bachman, I
immediately began to ponder what has been called the burden of the
moderate in many organizations, including the LDS Church. I've been
told that Louis Midgely is writing a book about tensions in Mormon
History entitled No Middle Ground. In intellectual, political, religious
conflicts, there is an understandable tendency for both sides of the
spectrum to move toward the end of the spectrum, then regard the
moderate as an enemy. If someone is on the far right end of the
spectrum, say, anyone to the left of that position looks wrong, for all
practical purposes. The end of the spectrum may dislike and distrust
the moderate even more than it dislikes the other end of the spectrum.
So a very conservative LDS writer may consider persons like Gerald
and Sandra Tanner to be "honest anti-Mormons," while considering
the moderate a "dishonest anti-Mormon," a "wolf in sheep's clothing"
and thus much more sinister and dangerous. A less melodramatic, but
also unsympathetic, perspective might view the moderate as a person
who lacks the backbone to take a strong moral stand on an issue, who
is wishy-washy, a mugwump, who wants to be all things to all men.
In my meditative mode, I wonder: how can we define extremism? Can
extremism be admirable? Can extremism be correct? Furthermore, can
moderation be morally wrong, even reprehensible? I think that you can
apply these categories to many different issues and come up with many
different answers.
I am realistic about this situation. Though I have a background in the
conservative side of Mormonism, and retain many conservative
viewpoints, I also have what I would call a liberal faith in many ways.
I believe that the Church environment has become increasingly
polarized recently, for various reasons. In such polarized situations,
enormous pressure can be put on moderates to join the far ends of the
spectrum. The enormous pressures put on the "moderate Republicans"
in the recent impeachment proceedings in the House of
Representatives are a good example, and the overwhelmingly party
line vote for and against impeachment in the House shows the success
the far right wing of the Republican party had in bringing the
"moderate Republicans" to accompany them in the vote.
For better or worse, I have watched myself become what I, personally,
consider to be a moderate, in LDS intellectual/academic circles. I may
be wrong; I may be looking at myself with entirely too much
sympathy; but that is how I see myself. I did not become that
intentionally -- after my many years of experience reading, writing,
talking, participating in a wide variety of situations, I woke up a
moderate, liberal in some ways, conservative in others. I offered some
unsympathetic takes on moderation above. However, at the risk of
looking at myself too sympathetically, I would like to offer some
possible positive views of moderation, for a historian and church
member.
For instance, on the issue of whether the earth is round or not, on one
end of the spectrum we have the flat-earthers, on the other end the
round-earthers, and I don't see much possibility for middle ground
there. But take another issue: evolution. On one end of the spectrum
are people who reject evolution completely in favor of saying that God
created everything without using such methods (and so evidence for
evolution, fossils, the scientific method, are viewed as diabolic lies);
on the other end are people who say that evolution occurred and occurs
and it proves that God did not create anything and there is no God.
For instance, in the Civil War, I sympathize strongly with the cause of
keeping the country together and ending slavery. Yet I understand that
good families were torn apart by the conflict, and brothers fought
against brothers on opposing sides. Furthermore, I find Robert D. Lee
admirable and heroic, even though he made the (wrong, in my view)
choice to stand with his native Virginia and fight against the Union.
Both sides in the conflict felt they were fighting for freedom.
First of all, there is a natural tendency for one end of the spectrum to
view the other end in the blackest possible terms. While there are a few
cases in which a person can seem like pure evil or pure good (Hitler or
Mother Theresa), in actuality, my experience is that "good" people
generally have flaws and limitations, and that "bad" people (people
whose acts have been largely destructive, in my view) often have
"constructive" traits and motivations.
deepest black.
In addition, in my view, this is the best position for the honest
apologist. I myself try to be a proponent of the truth in all its aspects, as
I have stated above, which by extension means I am a defender of the
gospel, if I am successful. If you take the position that important
characters on your "own" side are purely good, then you paint yourself
into the corner of having to defend their human limitations (and all
humans have limitations). Or you are forced to intentionally ignore the
limitations or censor them out of the picture, which is a form of
defending them, but, as I have stated, a form of dishonesty. In addition,
if you paint the opposite side as pure evil, when people find out that the
opposite spectrum are people who are often intelligent and idealistic,
though with different points of view, you have once again undercut
yourself.
Moderates, who are not committed to see an opposite end of the
spectrum in the blackest possible terms, can see the human side of both
sides of an issue. By human, I mean both the sympathetic side and the
limited side. Instead of seeing the opposite end of the spectrum as
demonic, you see them as sympathetic human beings, possibly with
faults. They can be wrong on occasion, make serious mistakes on
occasion, be unsympathetic on occasion. I believe this is a very useful
trait for a historian to have -- you can see historical figures in their
complexity. I think this is a much more true view of human character
than the view that sees one side as purely white and the other side as
Second, ideally, a good moderate can have independence of mind. I
remember while I was growing up when I asked my parents what party
6
they voted, they said, we're independents. I know they were
conservative, and I respect people who might be part of a political
party (I myself am not part of any organized political party -- I am a
Democrat) but I like the fact that they wanted to preserve their options
in voting. I have a friend who says she is a fiscally conservative,
socially liberal Republican. I myself come down with Republicans on
certain issues. An independent moderate may be thoughtful, not
accepting a party position without examining it. However, because of
this, in practical politics, the independently-minded moderate can be
viewed as "not a team player."
negative biases -- I suppose they mean naturalistic (atheistic) and
anti-polygamy biases -- which led me to look for a negative subject
and which then warped my research, interpretation and writing of my
book from the beginning. (See p. 70 -- Anderson/Faulring imply that I
wrote In Sacred Loneliness to support a premise concerning the failure
of polygamy -- also 118, 137.) So I will give a quick review of how In
Sacred Loneliness came to be.
My biggest influence at Brigham Young University was Hugh Nibley.
Nibley led me to studying classics, comparative myth, and history of
religions at UCLA. My focus was antiquity, though I had read
Mormon history out of interest throughout my life. I think Nibley has
major flaws as a scholar (we all have flaws as scholars), but I still
admire his emphasis on reading a text carefully, in the original
language, examining the cultural background of a text for clues, and
was very much influenced by that. I also admire his political liberalism
in a very conservative environment, his environmentalism, his
anti-corporate viewpoint.
Third, moderates can save a party from itself. If extremism can be
dangerous, as it certainly can be, moderates can keep the party from
teetering on the edge. Sometimes extremists can be the party's own
worst enemies; for instance, I believe that extremist feminism can
delay the progress of constructive feminism. Extremists in a party can
be judgmental, melodramatic, and can appeal to the lowest possible
denominator in a constituency. Given how human organizations work,
they are often more powerful than moderates. For instance, in the
Democratic party, demagogues can undo the sincere idealism of many
centrist Democrats. Extremist conservatives, on the other hand, can
make the Republican party look harshly uncompassionate, given to
personal attack, and on the lunatic fringe.
At UCLA, in addition to studying myth and religion, I majored in basic
classics, taking classes in Greco-Roman history occasionally, and I
also took New Testament history classes. These were taught by Scott
Bartchy, who influenced me a good deal. He taught the sociology of
the New Testament, and I came to see how Jesus's social inclusiveness
(including women, the racial "underclass" Samaritans, and Gentiles in
his fellowship) was a central part of his mission and a central theme of
the New Testament.
Finally, I want to emphasize that in none of this do I deny that
moderates must always face the moral imperative. They cannot be
morally indecisive. You should not become "moderate" for the sake of
labeling oneself a "moderate." By moderate, I do not mean someone
who doesn't make hard moral choices. As Senator Jeffords has recently
shown, sometimes the choice to be a moderate is itself a tough choice.
During this time, Sunstone editor Elbert Peck always would call me up
and ask me to speak at Sunstone, and I was always happy to do so. As
Jesus in his time spoke freely to educated and unlearned, sinner and
Pharisee, fisherman and tax collector, I felt it was not right to ignore
this group. As a result, I came to know and understand somewhat the
liberal side of Mormonism. I think Elbert invited me because I was one
of the few Nibley-related people who was willing to participate. But I
came to thoroughly enjoy Sunstone and look forward to it as a true
spiritual experience -- people who typecast it as an anti-Mormon rally
of some sort know nothing about it.
Finally, there is a religious argument for moderation. Jesus encouraged
us to "love your enemy." It is difficult to sincerely love your enemies if
you are at one end of a spectrum and see the other side as pure evil.
Having understanding for all kinds of people, and compassion for the
problems faced by all kinds of people, leans you toward being a
moderate, I think.
Having made this attempt at a defense for religious, historical
moderation, I will now try to show that, from my own perspective, at
least, In Sacred Loneliness is in many ways a moderate, even
conservative book.
I continued to enjoy reading Mormon history, from Sam Taylor to
Richard Bushman to Leonard Arrington to Mike Quinn. I read the
standard books on polygamy -- Foster's excellent Religion and
Sexuality, and Danel Bachman's Purdue thesis, also excellent. I didn't
do any active research on the subject of polygamy, and it was not a
significant issue for me.
Bias? Genesis of In Sacred Loneliness
First of all, Bachman and Anderson/Faulring imply that I had strong
As I explain in my introduction to In Sacred Loneliness, a friend, Janet
Ellingson, who had a fellowship at the Huntington Library in
Pasadena, out of the blue suggested that I apply for one. I could work
on the trail diaries of Eliza R. Snow, she said. I felt I had no chance of
receiving such a fellowship, but almost as a whim, I filled out the
application. To my surprise, I got the grant, though I still am not sure
why a classicist got a fellowship in Mormon history.
such as diaries and autobiographies. (However, since she had limited
access to Church Archives, this was not completely her fault.)
Furthermore, instead of looking at complex social and religious
reasons for Joseph Smith's polygamy, she came close to ascribing it all
only to sexual motivations. (The sexual life of the subject of the
biography is a common theme in all of her books.)[27]
So, like Bachman's Purdue master's thesis, my book started as a
critique of Brodie. One of the early articles I published relating to my
Mormon polygamy was a critique of Brodie's treatment of Joseph
Smith's polygamy in her biography of Smith. Newell Bringhurst
enlisted me to write this paper for a seminar on Brodie, and when I
gave the paper orally at the University of Utah, I was told that some of
Brodie's descendants were upset by its frank criticisms of Brodie.[28]
This somewhat anti-Brodie tendency is an example of a conservative
element in my book.
So my research began. As I explained in the introduction, my book
received its genesis as I tried to identify the women Eliza Snow
mentioned in her diary. I did not turn to Eliza because I had negative
feelings about polygamy, or even because I was interested in
polygamy. She was simply a prominent Mormon woman whose
diaries happened to be at the Huntington. Her diary led me to an
interest in her friends and sister-wives.
It soon became obvious that we needed a good list of Joseph Smith's
wives. Fawn Brodie, the only modern, footnoted source, was not
completely reliable, I felt. Aside from being out of date and making
some factual mistakes, she largely depended on published,
anti-Mormon sources while neglecting primary, sympathetic sources
While I was critical of Brodie, I also recognized that she was a pioneer
in documenting Joseph Smith's wives. One has to admit that no
conservative author had published a competent, footnoted, annotated
list of Joseph Smith's wives, with small biographies, to replace Brodie.
7
So I think conservatives sometimes are unfair to criticize even an
author as flawed as Brodie. Why had not a competent conservative
scholar written a footnoted biography of Joseph Smith that did not
avoid his polygamy? (After all these years, Richard Bushman may be
finally remedying that lack.)
So I came to my research subject as a critic of Brodie. I mentioned this
in my book; my article in Bringhurst's anthology has been available for
years. (In fact, I sent Faulring and Anderson a copy when I shared a
preliminary reading of In Sacred Loneliness with them a year or so
before it was published). So I was very surprised to have them placing
me in Brodie's naturalistic, secular camp.[30]
As Richard Lloyd Anderson has written extensively on evaluating
sources in early Mormon (New York) history, I should talk briefly
about my view of anti-Mormon data. As mentioned above, I think
Brodie's use of anti-Mormon exposés as her main basis was a serious
flaw in her methodology.[29] But unsympathetic sources still can be
useful, when used with caution. I believe I occupy a middle ground on
the issue of source analysis. Extremely negative sources are always
suspect, on certain contested issues. Nevertheless, they cannot be
simply ignored. If authors are firsthand witness to events, they should
still be considered, though allowances should be made for their biases.
In exactly the same way, extremely positive sources are suspect, on
certain contested issues, and one must allow for biases there also. So in
both cases, one should try to balance data from a very biased source
with other sources. Heightened rhetoric can be a suspect sign. For
instance, while some historians take the Oliver Cowdery reference to
the Joseph Smith/Fanny Alger relationship as a "dirty, filthy affair"
(see In Sacred Loneliness, 38) as evidence that this was an affair, not a
marriage, I think the heightened rhetoric is suspect. So I take it as
evidence that Cowdery knew something about the relationship, but not
as evidence that the relationship was actually an affair. (I believe the
relation with Alger was a marriage.)
As I began my core research, rejecting Brodie's list of wives as often
sensational in tone and unreliable in its sources, I began piecing
together a list I felt was reliable. To do this I had to put together at least
rudimentary biographies of the women, as it is impossible to identify
women without birth and death dates and a reliable marriage history.
And these small biographies gradually became longer and longer.
After I had amassed a substantial amount of evidence, a number of
patterns struck me. But one of the major patterns was the harsh reality
of "practical polygamy" for women. This presents a striking contrast to
the high religious emphasis placed on polygamy in nineteenth century
Mormonism. I believe I can even document when the phrase "sacred
loneliness" (which reflects this theme) first struck me -- when I gave
the paper on Presendia Huntington Smith Kimball at Sunstone
Symposium in Summer, 1994. This was long after I began researching
and writing the book.
The "sacred loneliness" contrast is definitely there in the life histories
and writings of many of the women I wrote about, though the phrase is
my own. I did not create the contrast and inject it into their writings. I
would agree that thirty-three women is a small control group for the
whole of Mormon polygamy. In addition, it would be difficult to
"prove" that polygamy was a positive or negative experience for the
totality of Mormon women. (And, as I state below, there were some
polygamous families that were more harmonious than others.)
However, readers and historians may judge whether the same patterns
are found in the lives of other polygamous wives.[31]
In my view, the position that non-Mormon evidence should not be
used at all, however, is extreme and non-critical. Non-Mormon
evidence can be very valuable as supporting evidence in conjunction
with sympathetic evidence. However, if you are going to be balanced
and even- handed, sympathetic and unsympathetic evidence should be
subjected to exactly the same careful analysis and scepticism. In a
contested issue, do we have heightened rhetoric? Are there signs of
extremist bias? Is the witness reliable on specifics?
I should also note that I did not seek out "controversial" documents.
My sweep for evidence sometimes included them, but they were not
my main interest. Bachman's rhetoric portraying me as "taking the bait
of" or "joining hands with" anti-Mormons like John C. Bennett, Eber
D. Howe, William Hall, and Joseph Jackson, as if they were my main
sources or inspirations, is completely incorrect. When I had
established a fairly stable list of Joseph's wives, I read everything they
had written, everything their families had written about them,
everything their close friends had written about them, everything
journalists wrote about them. Aside from my main researches at
Church Archives, BYU, University of Utah, and the Huntington, I
spent hundreds of hours in the Church Genealogical libraries, both in
Los Angeles and Salt Lake City. In addition, I read anything I could
find written by women in the early eras of Church history. I read many
printed primary and secondary sources. I xeroxed and plowed through
the many fat volumes of the Wilford Woodruff diaries. When I
discovered a primary document reflecting one of the thirty-three
women's children's birth dates, I felt it was a major accomplishment. I
would have liked to read twice as much as I did, but I did the best I
could under the circumstances. Writers such as Bennett, Howe, Hall
and Jackson were a very small part of my research, and did not
influence me at all, to the best of my knowledge. In fact, I have no
fondness for them, though felt that I had to read them. The writings of
the women I wrote about, however, had a profound influence on me.
wrote In Sacred Loneliness to support a premise concerning the failure
of polygamy -- also 118, 137.) So I will give a quick review of how In
Sacred Loneliness came to be.
My biggest influence at Brigham Young University was Hugh Nibley.
Nibley led me to studying classics, comparative myth, and history of
religions at UCLA. My focus was antiquity, though I had read
Mormon history out of interest throughout my life. I think Nibley has
major flaws as a scholar (we all have flaws as scholars), but I still
admire his emphasis on reading a text carefully, in the original
language, examining the cultural background of a text for clues, and
was very much influenced by that. I also admire his political liberalism
in a very conservative environment, his environmentalism, his
anti-corporate viewpoint.
At UCLA, in addition to studying myth and religion, I majored in basic
classics, taking classes in Greco-Roman history occasionally, and I
also took New Testament history classes. These were taught by Scott
Bartchy, who influenced me a good deal. He taught the sociology of
the New Testament, and I came to see how Jesus's social inclusiveness
(including women, the racial "underclass" Samaritans, and Gentiles in
his fellowship) was a central part of his mission and a central theme of
the New Testament.
During this time, Sunstone editor Elbert Peck always would call me up
and ask me to speak at Sunstone, and I was always happy to do so. As
Jesus in his time spoke freely to educated and unlearned, sinner and
Pharisee, fisherman and tax collector, I felt it was not right to ignore
this group. As a result, I came to know and understand somewhat the
liberal side of Mormonism. I think Elbert invited me because I was one
of the few Nibley-related people who was willing to participate. But I
Bias? Genesis of In Sacred Loneliness
First of all, Bachman and Anderson/Faulring imply that I had strong
negative biases -- I suppose they mean naturalistic (atheistic) and
anti-polygamy biases -- which led me to look for a negative subject
and which then warped my research, interpretation and writing of my
book from the beginning. (See p. 70 -- Anderson/Faulring imply that I
8
came to thoroughly enjoy Sunstone and look forward to it as a true
spiritual experience -- people who typecast it as an anti-Mormon rally
of some sort know nothing about it.
Mormon polygamy was a critique of Brodie's treatment of Joseph
Smith's polygamy in her biography of Smith. Newell Bringhurst
enlisted me to write this paper for a seminar on Brodie, and when I
gave the paper orally at the University of Utah, I was told that some of
Brodie's descendants were upset by its frank criticisms of Brodie.[28]
This somewhat anti-Brodie tendency is an example of a conservative
element in my book.
I continued to enjoy reading Mormon history, from Sam Taylor to
Richard Bushman to Leonard Arrington to Mike Quinn. I read the
standard books on polygamy -- Foster's excellent Religion and
Sexuality, and Danel Bachman's Purdue thesis, also excellent. I didn't
do any active research on the subject of polygamy, and it was not a
significant issue for me.
While I was critical of Brodie, I also recognized that she was a pioneer
in documenting Joseph Smith's wives. One has to admit that no
conservative author had published a competent, footnoted, annotated
list of Joseph Smith's wives, with small biographies, to replace Brodie.
So I think conservatives sometimes are unfair to criticize even an
author as flawed as Brodie. Why had not a competent conservative
scholar written a footnoted biography of Joseph Smith that did not
avoid his polygamy? (After all these years, Richard Bushman may be
finally remedying that lack.)
As I explain in my introduction to In Sacred Loneliness, a friend, Janet
Ellingson, who had a fellowship at the Huntington Library in
Pasadena, out of the blue suggested that I apply for one. I could work
on the trail diaries of Eliza R. Snow, she said. I felt I had no chance of
receiving such a fellowship, but almost as a whim, I filled out the
application. To my surprise, I got the grant, though I still am not sure
why a classicist got a fellowship in Mormon history.
So my research began. As I explained in the introduction, my book
received its genesis as I tried to identify the women Eliza Snow
mentioned in her diary. I did not turn to Eliza because I had negative
feelings about polygamy, or even because I was interested in
polygamy. She was simply a prominent Mormon woman whose
diaries happened to be at the Huntington. Her diary led me to an
interest in her friends and sister-wives.
As Richard Lloyd Anderson has written extensively on evaluating
sources in early Mormon (New York) history, I should talk briefly
about my view of anti-Mormon data. As mentioned above, I think
Brodie's use of anti-Mormon exposés as her main basis was a serious
flaw in her methodology.[29] But unsympathetic sources still can be
useful, when used with caution. I believe I occupy a middle ground on
the issue of source analysis. Extremely negative sources are always
suspect, on certain contested issues. Nevertheless, they cannot be
simply ignored. If authors are firsthand witness to events, they should
still be considered, though allowances should be made for their biases.
In exactly the same way, extremely positive sources are suspect, on
certain contested issues, and one must allow for biases there also. So in
both cases, one should try to balance data from a very biased source
with other sources. Heightened rhetoric can be a suspect sign. For
instance, while some historians take the Oliver Cowdery reference to
the Joseph Smith/Fanny Alger relationship as a "dirty, filthy affair"
(see In Sacred Loneliness, 38) as evidence that this was an affair, not a
marriage, I think the heightened rhetoric is suspect. So I take it as
evidence that Cowdery knew something about the relationship, but not
as evidence that the relationship was actually an affair. (I believe the
relation with Alger was a marriage.)
It soon became obvious that we needed a good list of Joseph Smith's
wives. Fawn Brodie, the only modern, footnoted source, was not
completely reliable, I felt. Aside from being out of date and making
some factual mistakes, she largely depended on published,
anti-Mormon sources while neglecting primary, sympathetic sources
such as diaries and autobiographies. (However, since she had limited
access to Church Archives, this was not completely her fault.)
Furthermore, instead of looking at complex social and religious
reasons for Joseph Smith's polygamy, she came close to ascribing it all
only to sexual motivations. (The sexual life of the subject of the
biography is a common theme in all of her books.)[27]
So, like Bachman's Purdue master's thesis, my book started as a
critique of Brodie. One of the early articles I published relating to my
In my view, the position that non-Mormon evidence should not be
used at all, however, is extreme and non-critical. Non-Mormon
evidence can be very valuable as supporting evidence in conjunction
with sympathetic evidence. However, if you are going to be balanced
and even- handed, sympathetic and unsympathetic evidence should be
subjected to exactly the same careful analysis and scepticism. In a
contested issue, do we have heightened rhetoric? Are there signs of
extremist bias? Is the witness reliable on specifics?
Mormonism. I believe I can even document when the phrase "sacred
loneliness" (which reflects this theme) first struck me -- when I gave
the paper on Presendia Huntington Smith Kimball at Sunstone
Symposium in Summer, 1994. This was long after I began researching
and writing the book.
The "sacred loneliness" contrast is definitely there in the life histories
and writings of many of the women I wrote about, though the phrase is
my own. I did not create the contrast and inject it into their writings. I
would agree that thirty-three women is a small control group for the
whole of Mormon polygamy. In addition, it would be difficult to
"prove" that polygamy was a positive or negative experience for the
totality of Mormon women. (And, as I state below, there were some
polygamous families that were more harmonious than others.)
However, readers and historians may judge whether the same patterns
are found in the lives of other polygamous wives.[31]
So I came to my research subject as a critic of Brodie. I mentioned this
in my book; my article in Bringhurst's anthology has been available for
years. (In fact, I sent Faulring and Anderson a copy when I shared a
preliminary reading of In Sacred Loneliness with them a year or so
before it was published). So I was very surprised to have them placing
me in Brodie's naturalistic, secular camp.[30]
As I began my core research, rejecting Brodie's list of wives as often
sensational in tone and unreliable in its sources, I began piecing
together a list I felt was reliable. To do this I had to put together at least
rudimentary biographies of the women, as it is impossible to identify
women without birth and death dates and a reliable marriage history.
And these small biographies gradually became longer and longer.
I should also note that I did not seek out "controversial" documents.
My sweep for evidence sometimes included them, but they were not
my main interest. Bachman's rhetoric portraying me as "taking the bait
of" or "joining hands with" anti-Mormons like John C. Bennett, Eber
D. Howe, William Hall, and Joseph Jackson, as if they were my main
sources or inspirations, is completely incorrect. When I had
established a fairly stable list of Joseph's wives, I read everything they
had written, everything their families had written about them,
everything their close friends had written about them, everything
journalists wrote about them. Aside from my main researches at
After I had amassed a substantial amount of evidence, a number of
patterns struck me. But one of the major patterns was the harsh reality
of "practical polygamy" for women. This presents a striking contrast to
the high religious emphasis placed on polygamy in nineteenth century
9
Church Archives, BYU, University of Utah, and the Huntington, I
spent hundreds of hours in the Church Genealogical libraries, both in
Los Angeles and Salt Lake City. In addition, I read anything I could
find written by women in the early eras of Church history. I read many
printed primary and secondary sources. I xeroxed and plowed through
the many fat volumes of the Wilford Woodruff diaries. When I
discovered a primary document reflecting one of the thirty-three
women's children's birth dates, I felt it was a major accomplishment. I
would have liked to read twice as much as I did, but I did the best I
could under the circumstances. Writers such as Bennett, Howe, Hall
and Jackson were a very small part of my research, and did not
influence me at all, to the best of my knowledge. In fact, I have no
fondness for them, though felt that I had to read them. The writings of
the women I wrote about, however, had a profound influence on me.
Illinois sent an early version of my book to an anonymous reader, who
recommended against publication. Among other things, he or she
disapproved of the book because it was too "apologetic." This was a
first example of my book being criticized as too conservative.
Signature and University of Utah, however, both were interested in my
book. I originally leaned toward University of Utah, where Linda
Newell was editing a series in Mormon history. I agreed to publish
with University of Utah, and Linda began editing a chapter of the
book. However, University of Utah Press had a change of leadership
and the Mormon history series (with Linda Newell) was dropped. So I
turned to Signature. I was happy to publish with Signature, and I've
been extremely grateful for their support, but it was not as if I sought
them out, and them alone, because I had a "naturalistic" bent. I offered
my book to leading publishers of Mormon history (among whom was
Signature), and due to circumstances, it ended up at Signature.
Publication Background of In Sacred Loneliness
Bachman accuses me of wanting to publish with Signature because of
the negativistic nature of my book. (p. 106.) Here is the actual story of
my book's publication history. I sent the manuscript of In Sacred
Loneliness to a number of leading publishers of Mormon history, of
which the following showed most interest: University of Illinois,
Signature Books, and University of Utah Press. I also let the BYU
Religious Studies Center series have a look at part of it, though
predictably, they wanted nothing to do with it. I thought that all these
presses had pluses and minuses, but I respected them all as publishers
of significant books of Mormon history. Obviously, I did not agree
with every book published at each press, but I thought all had a good
track record of valuable work. At Signature, the publication of the
Wilford Woodruff journals alone would have made it a major press in
Mormon history. BYU historian Thomas Alexander's biography of
Wilford Woodruff is another groundbreaking classic in Mormon
history published by Signature. Many of the leading "centrist"
Mormon historians, such as Arrington, Bitton, Bushman, have
published books and articles with Signature.
2. Bachman spends most of his review registering strong disagreement
with a few pages of my prologue. However, I wrote the prologue after
the rest of the book, the biographical chapters, because a friend,
Maureen Ursenbach Beecher if I remember correctly, suggested that I
should make some explanations for the rationale of polygamy, as
many readers would have questions about unfamiliar aspects of it. It is
very different from the kind of monogamy we practice today, or even
from standard idealized views of polygamy in modern Mormonism
today. Furthermore, many of the women I wrote about had
polyandrous relationships with Joseph Smith, and these relationships
deserved some explanation. In addition, I wanted to distance myself
from Brodie. Her view seems to be that Joseph Smith started and
continued polygamy merely because he was sexually overactive.
There are liberals who still accept Brodie's point of view, but aside
from the yellow journalism slant this has, I felt that it vastly
oversimplified a complex subject.
Moderate/Conservative Elements in In Sacred Loneliness
Following are significant moderate traits in my book. It would have
been desirable for Anderson, Faulring and Bachman, and it would
have given them credibility, if they had recognized and acknowledged
these moderate/conservative aspects of my book in a fair-minded,
judicious way, even while disagreeing with my main thesis.[32]
1. Bachman refers to my title as entirely negative. (p. 106.) However,
when I was finalizing the book's title, some of my more "liberal"
friends objected to it, and wanted me to explore other possible titles,
because they considered the word "sacred" to be too positive. So one
side sees only negativity, the other only the positive. Personally, I
believe the title reflects ambiguity.
certainly was given as much thought and revision as the rest of the
book. And in fact, when it was published as an article in Dialogue in
Summer 1996 long before In Sacred Loneliness was published, it
received awards from the Mormon History Association and from
Dialogue.[33] Such awards do not mean that the chapter or book is
perfect (as no article or book is); but it shows that Bachman's
characterizations of it as entirely lacking in competence are not shared
by experienced, balanced Mormon historians.
3. In my first chapter, on Fanny Alger, one accepted idea, again, which
can be traced back to Brodie, was that Fanny Alger was never Joseph
Smith's wife, but was his mistress, and so the relationship was only an
affair. By this perspective, there was never an actual polygamous
marriage ceremony. This was supported by the earliest contemporary
reference to the Joseph Smith-Fanny Alger connection, in which
Oliver Cowdery heatedly referred to it as an affair. (See above.) In this
scenario, the first plural wife of Joseph Smith was Louisa Beaman in
Nauvoo. However, I had always felt that it was likely that there had
been an actual polygamous ceremony with Fanny and Joseph. (If I'd
been on the extreme radical side, I would have tried to prove that the
Alger relationship was only an affair from the beginning.) When I
found an account of the marriage ceremony by Fanny's cousin, Mosiah
Hancock, in the Church Archives one day, I was not surprised, though
I was pleased to find my view supported. When my Fanny Alger
chapter was published in Journal of Mormon History a year or so
before my book was published, I got a call from a long time friend in
the Mormon history community thanking me profusely, emotionally,
for showing that the relationship was really a marriage. She had
previously been told by a historian she trusted that the relationship had
been only an affair.
Therefore, I wanted to show that there were religious, doctrinal
reasons for the number of wives Joseph took, and for the polyandrous
marriages. I do not believe that sexual attraction should be ruled out of
Joseph's marriages completely (it is a standard component of good
marriages), but it is overshadowed by more important religious
motivations.
Therefore, I was puzzled that Bachman chose my prologue for his
frontal assault, and that his assault was so emotional. (He has since
given an oral presentation at the May 1999 Mormon History
Association meeting in which he made an even more personal ad
hominem attack on me.)
Though I wrote the prologue after the biographical chapters, that does
not mean that I did not write it carefully. (Bachman has implied that I
wrote it hastily and without thoughtful care because I wrote it last.) It
So on that issue, I take the conservative position. If I'd been writing a
biased attack on Joseph Smith, of course, I could have emphasized
10
evidence such as the Oliver Cowdery quote.
me to portray Jacobs entirely as a victim. Along with many of his
descendants, I still believe that he was not treated fairly; but I also
included historical evidence that showed he was not a perfect human
being. (See, e.g., his sudden proposal to "Sister Elsy"; his tendency to
take Oliver Huntington's speaking time in the mission field; his
combativeness on the trip west, which left one leader angry at him; his
occasional apparent self- pity after Zina left him; the tendency women
had to leave him, even after Zina.) If I'd wanted to portray Henry as a
purely innocent victim, I would have edited all that out. Instead, as a
moderate historian, I tried to leave in Henry's limitations along with
his strengths. And though the story of Henry, Zina and Brigham
Young shows Young as marrying another man's wife, it also clearly
shows sympathetic sides to Brigham's character: e.g., see the quote
beginning "No man could be more careful" on page 95 of In Sacred
Loneliness.
Some historians on the "left" side of the spectrum were not happy with
the "conservative" position I took on the Fanny Alger marriage. (Of
course, I did not take that position because I wanted to be
"conservative" or antagonize the "liberals": I took it because the best
evidence pointed that way, in my opinion.) The first printed response
to the Fanny Alger article was by Janet Ellingson, who rejected the
Hancock document and my portrayal of the Alger-Smith relationship
as a formal marriage.[34] Respected non-Mormon scholar Lawrence
Foster has critiqued me for the same reason, referring to my work as
"apologetic," i.e., defending the church.[35]
4. Brodie places an enormous emphasis on children of Joseph Smith
by his plural wives, and she has a list of these that I consider severely
inflated. I accept only one child as solid, Josephine Lyon Fisher, for
whom there is affidavit evidence.
7. Brodie quoted Hall's statement that Joseph Smith married Zina
Huntington while Henry was on a mission to England.[37] She made
no evaluation or check of this data -- she merely quoted the damaging
statement. In my Brodie article and in In Sacred Loneliness I show that
Hall's statement is false -- Henry Jacobs did not go on a mission to
England until after Joseph Smith's death. The Oliver Huntington
journal, which Brodie had access to and quotes from, shows this
clearly. Why did Brodie even cite Hall? I ignore the quote in my book
and took Brodie to task for using it.
5. One child of Joseph Smith that Brodie regards as proven and that
she sensationalizes is Oliver Buell, child of Presendia Huntington
Buell (later Smith Kimball) and Norman Buell. As this child was born
before the date of Joseph Smith's marriage to Presendia, if we accept
him as Joseph's, we would have a clear case of adultery, with a child of
Joseph Smith as evidence. If I'd wanted to attack Joseph Smith with an
extreme negative bias, I could have accepted and supported Brodie.
However, I have repeatedly criticized Brodie's position here -- both in
oral presentations and twice in print.[36] Hopefully, the idea that
Oliver Buell was Joseph Smith's child will now be laid completely to
rest.
8. Brodie, working from one late, not even secondhand, anti-Mormon
source, suggested that the reason for Joseph's tar and feathering was
that he had taken sexual liberties with Marinda Johnson. This one
flimsy piece of evidence fit perfectly into her pan-sexual theory. I
showed the weakness of her case here.[38]
6. In the complex story of Zina Huntington's marriages to Henry
Jacobs, Joseph Smith and Brigham Young, it would have been easy for
9. Sidney Rigdon and Ebenezer Robinson and an anonymous source
assert that Marinda Johnson Hyde married Willard Richards
polyandrously (while her husband was on his mission to Palestine)
before marrying Joseph Smith. This is actually a possible
position -- Rigdon and Robinson were first-hand Nauvoo witnesses.
They were not questionable figures such as John C. Bennett. However,
I argue that they may have misunderstood the evidence here, and were
not in the inner polygamy circle of Nauvoo, therefore I do not find the
idea that Marinda married Willard Richards convincing (In Sacred
Loneliness, 238.)
certain key women such as Emily Partridge Young and Patty Sessions.
I did wonder if I had by chance stumbled on the writings of women
who had extraordinarily bad experiences with polygamy. However, I
began to discover many of the same patterns in other polygamous
relationships. See, for example, Tanner's A Mormon Mother. (And I
do not see the problems in that relationship as resulting primarily from
post- Manifesto status, as Anderson and Faulring suggest. The
problems started much earlier.) Also, see the thesis cited above,
Suzanne Adel Katz, "Sisters in Salvation: Patterns of Emotional
Loneliness Among Nineteenth-Century Non-Elite Mormon
Polygamous Women." I read Katz in the later stages of writing my
book, I believe in 1996 or early 1997. While I came to have great
admiration for many polygamists, female and male, I came to believe
that the problem was in the polygamous system. Obviously, if a man
has five wives, he has to fragment limited time and resources. The
contrast with monogamous marriage, difficult enough by itself, was
remarkable.
Why, if I was so intensely biased against Joseph Smith and
Mormonism, as Mr. Bachman emphatically accuses, did I take these
"conservative" positions? But, the conservative reviewer asks, if I'm so
conservative, why didn't I portray polygamy as entirely rosy? My
answer is that I am moderate, that I try to be balanced. I admit, I am not
an extreme conservative. But the positions outlined in this section
shows clearly that I was not on the anti-Mormon extreme.
Anderson/Faulring:
I think perhaps one of the reasons I especially saw the difficult side of
polygamy is because I looked at it from the woman's point of view, and
because in the group of wives I studied there were some private
records of their inner turmoil. The polygamy experience, from the
male point of view, was very different from the female point of view.
For a man with five wives, he was with a woman every day; for the
woman, she had male companionship and household help once every
five days (if the husband was strictly equitable, which he often wasn't).
The Theme of Sacred Loneliness
How did I arrive at my main thesis, which certainly included
problematic aspects of polygamy? As was mentioned above, I did not
have the title until some two years after I began research, when I
needed a title for a talk on Presendia Huntington Kimball. Though
Presendia is not the most pronounced example of "sacred loneliness"
in my book, the title seemed fitting to me, and I eventually felt that the
phenomenon was shared by other wives and that the title was
appropriate for the whole book.
One of the most powerful documents reflected in my book is the diary
of Emily Partridge Young. Obviously the marriage of Emily and
Brigham was dysfunctional. You might argue that the relationship
would have been the same in a monogamous relationship, but I find
that hard to imagine. Anderson and Faulring refer to my "negative
interpretation" of Emily Partridge, but it is difficult for me to imagine
anyone reading her diary and painting a flowery picture of her life with
In fact, far from having pronounced anti-polygamy biases when I
began the book, as Bachman implies, polygamy was not an issue for
me. But researching and writing the book was obviously an education.
It developed my views on polygamy, especially reading the writings of
11
Brigham. Anderson and Faulring suggest that the problem in the
relationship was really Emily's: "Yet mood is one of her problems. . ."
(p. 97). However, Brigham simply refused to pay her small water and
school bills, and she agonized about how she could work to make
enough money to pay them. This financial struggle for Emily,
especially since she had poor health, cannot be blamed on her
"problems" with "mood."
"Begins: ‘Today I am fifty years old.' Many gaps. Entries sometimes
long. Much introspection and philosophizing; indeed some pages seem
close to sermons or essays and may have been published in church
periodicals." When the summary describes the central content of the
diary, it begins: "A major theme: author's financial hardships due to
refusal of Brigham Young to provide support. Yet she still shows
admiration for him. Mixed emotions."
I agree that there were complexities in Emily's relationship with
Brigham, and in my book I included positive things she said about
him, and positive things he did for her. Yet an overwhelming
emotional impression of the journal is agonized disbelief at how
Brigham treated her. The diary expresses her ambivalence and inner
conflicts, which were fascinating.
I believe, instead of "negative interpretation," I supplied a balanced
interpretation, reflecting the negative, but also the positive. Certainly,
this creates a dissonance, but it was a dissonance that Emily
experienced, as Bitton or a Bitton-sponsored historian reflects: "Mixed
emotions." To have suppressed the "difficult" passages would have
been ethically dishonest -- and in addition, might have turned Emily
and Brigham into sentimentalized puppets, instead of real people.
If I were reproducing a flatly "negative interpretation," I would not
have included the positive things she said about Brigham. Anderson
and Faulring seem to suggest that I should have merely cited the
positive passages. After describing positive things Brigham did for
Emily (all taken from my book), Anderson and Faulring write,
disapprovingly, "In Sacred Loneliness prefers to keep Emily's
complaints on the record." (p. 98) But citing only the positive would
have given a dishonest account of Emily's diary and experiences. The
only responsible route for a historian is to reflect the positive and
negative and the relative weight they have in her diary. Emily created
her record; I didn't. Emily kept her complaints on the record.
Anderson and Faulring write, "We have learned from Todd Compton's
work but are disturbed by its dissonances." (103) The Emily Partridge
journal shows that I did not arrange inoffensive documents to create
dissonance -- the dissonances are there in the original documents, in
the life experiences of these women. I formulated the central thesis of
my book, I believe, only after it surfaced repeatedly in many different
documents. I believe anyone who studies nineteenth century Mormon
polygamy seriously and honestly will be disturbed by the dissonances
it caused in many families. (On the other hand, as I have mentioned,
there were other polygamous families in which problems were worked
out more successfully.)
Did I overemphasize those negative passages? I doubt that anyone who
has read the whole diary would say so. In fact, let me cite a summary of
the diary written long before In Sacred Loneliness appeared, that
found in Davis Bitton's Mormon Diaries and Autobiographies[39]:
As can be seen from the list of significant "conservative" aspects of my
book, above, I did not go out of my way to document as much sex as
possible in Joseph Smith's marriages, as Brodie seemingly did. In fact,
I disallowed much of Brodie's argumentation and evidence on this
subject, including her "certain" son of Joseph Smith, Oliver Buell (and
if I had accepted this son as Joseph's, it would have proven an
adulterous relationship).
Sexual Relations in Joseph Smith's Plural Marriages
Faulring hint that I should have referred to her as "nearly fifteen." (p.
79.) This kind of terminology might be understandable if she had been
a week or so away from fifteen, but she was three months away. But
even if she had been a week away, she would have still been fourteen
till the date of her birthday. Anderson and Faulring are not facing up to
the truth here.
Nevertheless, there was clear evidence for sexual relations in some of
the relationships, and when this was found, I accepted it. I did not
highlight it for sensational effect like Brodie; to me, it is merely part of
the picture that should not be overemphasized or underemphasized,
and not an especially controversial part. Marriages usually include
sexual relations, and if we accept that Joseph Smith had marriage
ceremonies for his marriages, the sexual relations should be normal
and expected unless there is some other factor involved. Polygamy in
the Old Testament usually included children, and in fact, having
children was often one of the motivations for polygamy.
Then Anderson and Faulring suggest that Helen was "approaching
eligibility." Here, they should have included documentation to support
the idea that marriage at fourteen was "approaching eligibility."
Actually, marriages even two years later, at the age of sixteen,
occurred occasionally but infrequently in Helen Mar's culture. If we
take a random sample of the marriage ages of the women in my book
who married before they were sealed to Joseph Smith, we have the
following: Lucinda Pendleton, 18. Zina Huntington, 20. Presendia
Huntington, 16. Agnes Coolbrith, 27. Patty Bartlett, 17. Sylvia
Sessions, 19. Mary Rollins, 17. Marinda Johnson, 18, Elizabeth Davis,
20, Sarah Kingsley, 19, Delcena Johnson, 22, Martha McBride, 21,
Ruth Vose, 33, Elvira Cowles, 29, Fanny Young, 18.
As Bachman notes (p. 107), an anti-Mormon writer has critiqued me
for not making sexuality the only motivation for Joseph Smith's
marriages. Instead, I focus on theological and dynastic reasons for the
marriages, though I do not rule out spiritual and physical attraction as
another motivation for specific marriages (which again, is entirely
appropriate for normal marriages).
Thus, girls marrying at fourteen, even fifteen, was very much out of
the ordinary. Sixteen was comparatively rare, but not unheard of. So
Helen was quite far from usual ages of eligibility, seventeen or
eighteen.[40]
Now we approach the question of sexuality in the marriage of Helen
Mar and Joseph Smith. Anderson and Faulring represent that I take the
position that there were sexual relations between Helen Mar and
Smith. Compton "writes as though it is likely that Helen's sealing to
Joseph Smith included marital relations." (p. 80). Compton "leaves it
open to assume this was a sexual adjustment." (p. 80) Having typecast
me into the Brodie sexualist camp, Anderson and Faulring then
strongly take the position that it is a virtual certainty that there was no
sexuality in this marriage ["there is every reason not to assume a
sexual dimension", 80] and lambast my purported "sexual" position for
the rest of that section.
Despite my taking a very balanced position here, I think, it is still a
difficult, charged topic, and so I am not completely surprised that
Anderson and Faulring register objections to my treatment of some
aspects of it. I'll look at two issues here: Helen Mar Whitney's
marriage to Joseph Smith, and polyandry.
Helen Mar Kimball Smith Whitney
Were there sexual relations in the marriage of Joseph Smith and his
youngest wife, Helen Mar Whitney, fourteen at the time of her
marriage to Smith? First of all, some preliminary points. Anderson and
12
But, the reader may ask, what is my best guess? I remember talking
with my publisher Gary Bergera on the phone once during the editorial
process and I restated the cautious "no evidence either way" position.
But Gary pressed: "But what do you think? What is your best guess?"
And I answered that my best guess was that there were no sexual
relations, based on parallels from some marriages to underage women
in Utah polygamy.
Anderson and Faulring's treatment leaves me taken aback, for I
nowhere say that Helen Mar and Joseph had sexual relations. The most
important passages from my book in this respect are as follows:
Interestingly, Joseph's youngest wife, Helen Mar Kimball, was the
daughter of another loyal apostle, Heber C. Kimball, so that marriage
may also be considered dynastic, not motivated solely by sexual
interest. (In Sacred Loneliness, 12) Some conclude that Helen Mar
Kimball, who married Smith when she was fourteen, did not have
marital relations with him. This is possible, as there are cases of
Mormons in Utah marrying young girls and refraining from sexuality
until they were older. But the evidence for Helen Mar is entirely
ambiguous, in my view. (In Sacred Loneliness, 14) Orson Whitney
wrote, "Soon after the revelation [to Vilate] was given, a golden link
was forged whereby the house of Heber and Joseph were indissolubly
and forever joined. Helen Mar. . . was given to the Prophet in the holy
bonds of celestial marriage." This marriage, like that of Smith to Sarah
Whitney, looks to be almost purely dynastic, as Whitney's language
("golden link" "the houses of Heber and Joseph") shows. (In Sacred
Loneliness, 497)
A careful reader, I believe, would have understood that this was the
way I was leaning from the quotes above. First of all, while not
removing the idea of sexual/spiritual attraction altogether, I assert that
the Helen Mar marriage was primarily ("almost purely") dynastic,
mostly motivated by the desire of Heber Kimball and Joseph Smith to
link their families. This removes me from the Brodie sexualist camp.
Second, I provide evidence for the possibility that there were no sexual
relations by drawing the parallels from Utah polygamy. See In Sacred
Loneliness, p. 638, section "marrying underage women," which
gathers three sources showing deferred sexual relations in the cases of
underage women marrying older men.
So, if I was not hinting that there was a "sexual adjustment" after the
Helen Mar / Joseph Smith marriage, what was I suggesting? My view,
based on Helen's short 1881 reminiscence, is that she married Joseph
thinking the marriage would be "for eternity alone," linking the houses
of Heber and Joseph. In my reconstruction, she may have understood
that she would be free to date in her peer group and marry someone
else for time.
My position, actually, is that there is no evidence, pro or con, for
sexual relations. You cannot prove that there were sexual relations;
you cannot prove that there were no sexual relations. Notice that I do
not simply say "ambiguous"; I say "entirely ambiguous."
I think Helen Mar had already become interested in Horace Whitney,
the brother of her best friend, Sarah Ann Whitney. So when she came
to understand that the marriage included time (therefore she would be
allowed no dating, no marriage to Horace), she was understandably
devastated, as she was not in love with Joseph Smith. If I were to
isolate one event that may have triggered this realization, it is when
Joseph and Heber Kimball would not let her attend a dance at the
Mansion House. (In Sacred Loneliness, 502.) I emphasize how this
event might have triggered Helen's realization that the marriage to
Joseph included time. [41]
volatile topic of Joseph Smith's youngest wife. It is almost as if they
wished I had written an anti-Mormon, a neo-Brodie book, so they
attacked the book they wished I had written. I believe that here again,
Anderson and Faulring misread the point of view of a moderate, who
tries to look at both valid "positive" and valid "problematic" evidence
and make a synthesis. So they leapt to the judgment that portrayed me
as a Brodie disciple or an anti-Mormon and attacked my supposed
thesis on that basis.
Sexuality in the Polyandrous Marriages
On p. 84, Anderson and Faulring quote my statement reflecting the
union of Zina Huntington Jacobs and Joseph Smith, "Nothing specific
is known about sexuality in their marriage, though judging from
Smith's other marriages, sexuality was probably included." They
respond, "This is an example of many questionable conclusions in this
book that are overly broad, nonspecific, or undocumented."[43] My
statement is actually very undogmatic and cautious. I
straightforwardly state that there is no specific evidence on sexuality in
the Zina marriage that I know of. Then I state, judging from other
Smith marriages that included sexuality, it was "probably" included,
not certainly. I allow the reader to assess the evidence and make his or
her own conclusion. However, Anderson and Faulring's sentence,
which is quite sweeping and general in its own right, gives the
impression that my book largely consists of sexual innuendo based on
no evidence. ("questionable conclusions . . . undocumented.")
Anderson and Faulring, I believe, misinterpret Helen's statement that
"The step I now am taking's for eternity alone." (p. 80, In Sacred
Loneliness, 499). The poem clearly shows that this was her original
understanding, but she later had to abandon it. (See the section of the
poem at In Sacred Loneliness, 500.)
This is a painful story. I tend to think that dynastic marriages, arranged
by male parents (Helen's mother clearly opposed the marriage),
without authentic courtship, are always a mistake, and adversely affect
the young woman involved; and I also think that plural marriages to
young teens are unwise, and have set an example that has had
unfortunate consequences even in contemporary Utah, as recent events
in fundamentalist polygamist groups in Utah show. [42] Nevertheless,
in the issue under discussion, sexuality in the Helen Mar marriage,
though I do not see proof on either side, I lean toward the
non-sexuality interpretation, as Anderson and Faulring do. (Though
they seem to regard it completely certain.)
I'm not sure exactly where Anderson and Faulring are going with their
argument here, but it seems to be an attempt to make a case for as little
sexuality in Joseph Smith's marriages as possible. As I have mentioned
above, sexuality is an accepted aspect of marriages, polygamous or
monogamous. I do not find it especially controversial in a polygamous
marriage. And while an overemphasis on sex creates a tone of yellow
journalism (a failing I have criticized Brodie for), attempts to ignore it
completely or underemphasize it are also unhealthy.
As I was writing this response, I talked about my book with a
conservative friend of mine, the wife of a bishop, and more
conservative than her husband I think, and the subject of the Helen
Mar chapter came up. Did that chapter bother you, I asked? No, she
said, because there was no sexuality involved.
So once again, in this case, I took a moderate, even conservative
position. We are left to wonder why Anderson and Faulring portrayed
me as pushing the most extreme sexual interpretation possible in this
In the case of the polyandrous marriages, Anderson and Faulring
apparently are going in the direction of proposing that there was no
13
sexuality involved in any of them. Thus, they would have to regard
Sylvia Sessions as a conspicuous exception, if they accept the Fisher
affidavit, which they apparently do (p. 83). Theoretically, they could
argue, out of eleven cases (I strongly doubt that their rejection of
Jensen's reliability will hold up, see below), in ten cases there is no
evidence for sexuality. In only one case do we have evidence, they
might argue, so we can view it as an exception.
this way.[45]
Presendia Huntington Buell -- no real autobiographical writings on the
subject.
*Sylvia Sessions Lyon – her daughter, Josephine Lyon Fisher, left an
important affidavit affirming that she (Josephine) was Smith's child.
So this is the most explicit evidence for sexuality and offspring in all of
Smith's plural marriages, polyandrous or polygynist.
There is some ambiguity in the evidence here, so I can understand such
an argument. However, in my view, it is unconvincing. A survey of the
evidence for the eleven women in question (looking at whether there is
an autobiography recording the marriage, a record of the sealing with
valid information, and whether the marriage was for time / eternity or
for eternity only), will be helpful. I asterisk the wives for whom we
have some significant evidence.
*Mary Rollins Lightner -- autobiographical writings. No evidence pro
or con on sexuality. However, there is evidence that the marriage was
for time as well as eternity. Mary said she knew of some of Joseph
Smith's children by plural wives.
*Patty Sessions -- no autobiographical writings, but a record of the
marriage ceremony in her diary shows that it was for time as well as
eternity.
Lucinda Harris -- never came west, no autobiographical writings, not
part of affidavit drive.
*Zina Diantha Huntington Jacobs -- autobiographical writings, but no
certain evidence, pro or con, on sexuality. On the issue of
time/eternity, the evidence is entirely ambiguous. However, Zina's
biographers, Bradley and Woodward, note that while Zina did not
explicitly say her marriage with Joseph Smith was consummated, she
signed an affidavit saying she was Joseph Smith's wife "in very deed,"
which they take as evidence that the marriage was consummated.[44]
BYU historian Kathyrn Daynes also seems to interpret "in very deed"
Sarah Kingsley Cleveland -- did not come west, not part of affidavit
drive. No autobiographical writings or other significant evidence on
this issue.
Marinda Johnson Hyde -- no autobiographical writings or other
significant evidence.
Elizabeth Davis Durfee -- no autobiographical writings or other
significant evidence. Not part of affidavit-seeking drive, as she ended
up RLDS.
Winchester. (pp. 73-78.) This discussion shades into the discussion of
polyandry and youth of the wives, as three of these women were
polyandrous, and one, Winchester, was very young -- she must have
been about fourteen years old when she married Smith. (One well
documented wife, Helen Mar Kimball, was certainly married to Joseph
Smith when she was fourteen so this is completely within the realm of
possibility.)
Ruth Vose Sayers -- no autobiographical writings or other significant
evidence on this issue.
Elvira Cowles Holmes -- no autobiographical writings or other
significant evidence on this issue.
Anderson and Faulring state their case for disallowing these wives
very strongly. It is not a situation in which they allow me a reasonable
case -- they simply reject these women: "Wives Included on
Inadequate Evidence." (p. 75) "This reasoning [my saying that certain
lists are reliable] is the Achilles heel of [Compton's] attempts at
objectivity in enumerating the Prophet's wives." (p. 73) "We rejected
four wives for lack of documentation." (p. 81).
Thus, there are only four polyandrous wives who left us significant
evidence about the marriage to Smith. Of these cases, one explicitly
said she had a child by Smith, and two others affirmed that the
marriages were for time as well as eternity. Another strongly hinted in
a formal affidavit that the marriage had been consummated.
For Anderson and Faulring to make a convincing case for Sylvia
certainly being a complete exception, I would think they would need a
woman to say that the general rule was for no sexual relations, and
then explain how and why the Sylvia Sessions Lyon exception
occurred. Furthermore, it would help their case if they found
polyandrous wives who explicitly, unambiguously stated that their
marriages were for eternity only, not for time. They may eventually
find such documents, but I know of none at this time. Therefore, with
four cases providing significant data, two providing evidence of time
marriages, and one providing strong evidence of a child, I think the
most probable scenario includes sexual relations in the polyandrous
marriages, except in the cases of older women.
In rejecting these four wives, Anderson and Faulring plunge us into the
question of interpretation of historical evidence. I am obviously fully
in favor of applying the highest possible standards for interpreting
historical evidence, and I am on record in my Brodie article and
elsewhere that Brodie made serious mistakes because she used late and
second-hand antagonistic, biased evidence as her primary basis for
discussion in many cases.[46] In many cases, I have tried to put a
number of mistaken conclusions based on Brodie's flawed
methodology to rest.[47] So I am concerned that historical
methodology for accepting and evaluating evidence be careful,
reasonable and fair.
So, some general principles:
This is not a "final word" on the topic; "final words" do not exist in
history. I hope and expect that further documents relating to these
polyandrous marriages will surface in the future, and my views may
change accordingly. But as things stand now, the weight of the
evidence suggests that the polyandrous marriages were generally for
time, as well as for eternity, and probably included sexuality.
(1) No piece of evidence is perfect. As I wrote in In Sacred Loneliness
(p. 29), contemporary evidence is very desirable, but is not perfect.
Even if someone writes something in a diary (contemporary evidence),
it is still biased and limited to his or her viewpoint. That person's
enemy, or even a friend, may write on the same day about the same
events and look at them very differently.
The Number of Joseph Smith's Wives
Anderson and Faulring take my list of 33 wives of Joseph Smith and
assert that I was incorrect in allowing four of them, Lucinda Morgan
Harris, Elizabeth Durfee, Sarah Kingsley Cleveland, and Nancy Maria
Therefore, since no piece of evidence is perfect, if you do not like any
piece of evidence, you can always object in some way and throw it out.
As a result, it is important that one does not hold a double standard for
14
crucial evidence, that one is consistent. For instance, if one rejects a
piece of evidence whose content one does not like on the argument that
it is second-hand, one should not accept another piece of evidence
(whose content one likes) that is equally second- hand.
disagree on something. If they agree, one piece of evidence can be
corroborated by other pieces of evidence. If six people affirm
something, the validity of the event is heightened or demonstrated
beyond reasonable doubt. This is why it is important for a scholar to
read and judge all the possible evidence on a subject. Sometimes a
piece of evidence that is valuable, but cannot entirely support a
complex event, can combine with another piece of evidence to present
more of the totality. This is not a question of two bad pieces of
evidence making a good case for something. It is a question of a good
piece of evidence standing alone lacking complete certainty, but if
combined with another good piece of evidence, being made reasonably
certain. Anderson and Faulring are repeatedly quite scathing about this
principle: "two tanks of ordinary gas do not produce a high-octane
mix", 77; "assembling several flawed diamonds does not produce a
perfect stone," 75. Anderson and Faulring's statement here assumes
that there is such a thing as perfect evidence, which, as I have
remarked above, is not the case. It also overstates its case. I am not
searching for a "perfect stone," which does not exist in the real world
or in history; I am searching for a convincing, reliable case. Anderson
and Faulring's sarcastic statements here also imply that all my
evidence is bad (a collection of "flawed" stones); actually, I would not
introduce any evidence at all if it were not worthwhile in some way.
[48]
Evidence can be used, and should be used, even if it is not perfect.
(Otherwise, no evidence could be used at all.) One can use evidence
skillfully, but still allow for its limitations. For instance, if one has two
pieces of evidence, one can balance them against each other. One
limited truism of historical research is that late evidence is inferior to
contemporary evidence. In many respects this is true, but not
necessarily. I cited Eliza R. Snow's contemporary diary entry for the
day she married Joseph Smith, In Sacred Loneliness, 313. Nowhere is
there explicit mention of the marriage in that entry. A researcher with
that diary alone would never affirm or try to prove that Eliza married
Joseph on that day, or at all. However, in a late piece of evidence, her
autobiography, she explicitly affirms the marriage to Joseph (cited at
In Sacred Loneliness, 312), and in other late evidence she gave the
date. No one piece of evidence was perfect, but all were valuable.
Combined, they presented a reliable, full view of the event.
(2) Thus, evidence supports other evidence, and the totality is more
than any single piece of evidence. Every added bit of evidence makes
the case stronger. One can see if different pieces of evidence agree or
Corroboration is a basic principle of legal proof, and is obviously also
valid in scholarship. Certainly two completely wrong sources can be
wrong together; but the more sources that support each other, the
higher the likelihood that they are reliable. In Mormon history, a
combination of sympathetic and unsympathetic sources agreeing on
something can be very valuable, because then you do not suspect
either side of distorting the truth from bias. This leads to my next
point:
"negative" sources? Because, as I said, no evidence is perfect, but, for
a responsible historian, all relevant evidence should be looked at and
evaluated. Mormons would be enormously narrow and parochial (and
solipsistic and even unchristian) if they only accepted evidence and
writing that had been written by other Mormons.
In addition, anti-Mormon writing is not all of the same quality. On the
one hand you have yellow-journalistic writers producing exposés with
little primary research or little or no first hand knowledge of Mormon
history. This can be close to fiction, or the worst kind of muck-raking.
On the other hand, you may have a good Mormon who was involved in
many of the incidents of Mormon history first hand, who becomes
disillusioned, leaves the church, and writes his memoirs. These first
hand memoirs can still have great value, despite the author's bias, and
no responsible Mormon historian would simply ignore this kind of
evidence. (And, as I have mentioned, the Mormon who stays within
the church will write memoirs that have a positive bias.)
(3) In religious history, biases for and against an organization or
religious leader are often intense; often intelligent, trustworthy people
can be limited by their biases. (For instance, any autobiographer will
tend to look at himself very sympathetically.) Dealing with these
biases in historical evidence is thus a challenge. In Mormonism you
have more or less strongly pro-Mormon evidence and more or less
strongly anti-Mormon evidence. How do you evaluate the different
kinds of evidence, and write history that both Mormons and
non-Mormons can trust? First of all, even if evidence is biased, that
does not mean it cannot be used at all. No evidence is perfect, but we
can sometimes make allowance for extreme bias, positive or negative,
and still find usefulness in the evidence, especially if it is solid in other
aspects. In highly charged evidence, a danger sign is heightened
rhetoric. So one can make allowance for the rhetoric, and judge what
else the evidence tells us.
Respected non-Mormon scholar, Lawrence Foster, also makes the
distinction between valid, useful, and totally worthless evidence from
antagonistic Mormons: see his Religion and Sexuality,[46] in which he
asserts that there are two kinds of anti-Mormon evidence: first hand
(which must be considered and used) vs. semi-fictional exposes, which
are close to useless, except as compendiums of wild gossip.
One very simple methodology is for the anti-Mormon to accept only
evidence on Mormonism that has a strongly negative bias, or to
highlight that evidence, then ignore or downplay contrary, sympathetic
evidence. The very simple equivalent of this methodology on the other
side is to accept only pro-Mormon evidence, and highlight that, then
ignore or downplay contrary, non-Mormon evidence.
If one disallowed all authors who had bias, there would be no evidence
for Mormon history, or any history. Even statistical evidence can be
the result of bias.
Anderson, Faulring and Bachman all excoriate me for being
influenced by John C. Bennett. (pp. 74; 131.) Bachman affirms, in
relation to Bennett, that I have "taken" his "bait," as if my whole
philosophy were based on Bennett. (In fact, I use him in an entirely
secondary way. Nowhere do I make a case based entirely on Bennett. I
actually feel a certain antipathy to Bennett, which is understandable, as
he was not an honest, sympathetic character.) Nevertheless, I
occasionally use statements by Bennett in a limited way, when they
look like they are based on personal experience and have
substantiation from other sources.
Naturally, I believe both these strategies are fatally flawed. My
personal methodology, when I deal with a sensitive, problematic issue
in Mormon history, is usually to start with sympathetic sources. Then I
bring in corroborative evidence from other sources, including the more
valid, first-hand "unsympathetic" sources, in which allowance is made
for distortion, but in which there is often something useful. (This
inverts Brodie's methodology; she often used anti- Mormon sources as
the foundation. If I were merely out to attack Mormonism, Brodie's
methodology would be more logical, obviously.)
Bachman himself has used anti-Mormon evidence. See his reprinting
of "Buckeye's Lament," an anti-Mormon poem, in his thesis.[50] He
was entirely justified in reprinting and using this poem. Even if it was
If I have my two or three sympathetic sources, why even look at the
15
anti-Mormon, it was very early, and apparently written by an insider.
Bachman, as a historian, would have been derelict in his duty if he had
not considered it and quoted it.
long run.
An example of the necessity for using antagonistic evidence on
occasion is Oliver Cowdery's statement: "A dirty, nasty, filthy affair of
his and Fanny Alger's was talked over in which I strictly declared that I
never deviated from the truth." As we have seen, this, the first
contemporary reference to Fanny Alger's relationship with Joseph
Smith, is taken from a letter written on January 21, 1838 (see In Sacred
Loneliness, 38). Here we find heightened rhetoric, so Oliver's labeling
as the Smith-Alger relationship as an "affair" is suspect. But it
nevertheless shows irrefutably that Cowdery knew there had been a
relationship between Smith and Alger by early 1838, and that it was a
emotional point of contention between the two men. Thus, while one
need not accept the interpretations of antagonistic sources, a
responsible historian must consider them, and perhaps filter them.
Anderson and Faulring refer to me as sanitizing a "smear" (p. 75) -- in
my view, I extracted what was worthwhile in a source (Sarah Pratt)
and discarded the suspect rhetoric. Their desired
alternative -- completely ignore Sarah Pratt, a Nauvoo veteran and
wife of an apostle -- is a simplistic solution that will not work in the
The main piece of evidence that Anderson and Faulring dispute in
disallowing the four wives in question is Andrew Jenson's list of
twenty-seven wives published in 1887. So to assess Anderson's and
Faulring's proposed shortened list, we must first evaluate Jenson and
his list.
First of all, I regard Danel Bachman's thesis on Joseph Smith's
polygamy as a milestone in the historiography of Mormon polygamy
and an effective response to Brodie's inflated list of wives because he
emphasized the affidavits collected by Joseph F. Smith and others.[51]
However, we cannot make affidavit evidence an absolute principle. If
we have a good autobiography by a woman, or evidence in someone
else's diary or autobiography for a plural marriage, then that is good
evidence. The affidavit principle should be used as a tool rather than as
a straitjacket. For instance, what of the wives of Joseph Smith who
died before 1869 (when the affidavits began to be gathered)? We
cannot simply disallow these wives, if there is reliable evidence for
their marriage to Joseph Smith, even if they did not leave an affidavit.
In the same way, we cannot disallow Joseph's wives who did not end
up in Utah. (This is exactly the case with three of the women Anderson
and Faulring want to disallow.)
Now, we return to the lists of wives.
Anderson and Faulring Questioning the Reliability of Andrew Jenson
sisters.) So secondary evidence can be reliable.[53]
Therefore our first task is to assess the reporting source here, Andrew
Jenson. Is he anti- Mormon? Just the opposite -- he is an official
church historian trying to defend the church. Second, was he known as
wildly speculative, given to concocting outlandish stories? No, just the
opposite. He was stolid, enormously laborious, very good at
accumulating information in unimaginative, reliable ways. Finally,
was he dishonest? No, I am confident that no one would assert that.
Would he have lightly made an incorrect listing of a woman on the
list? No, clearly not. He certainly realized the gravity of what he was
publishing.
I was very surprised to find Anderson and Faulring portraying Jenson's
list as unreliable -- I was, you might even say, staggered. Knowing
Anderson's background objecting to evidence antagonistic to Joseph
Smith in his early folk-magic era,[52] one might expect him to object
to use of any kind of antagonistic evidence. (And in fact, Anderson and
Faulring often do object categorically to any use of antagonistic
evidence, see above.) However, to portray the completely orthodox
Assistant Church Historian Andrew Jenson as unreliable strikes me as
unaccountable, even approaching the bizarre.
The best treatment of Andrew Jenson as a historian is found in Davis
Bitton and Leonard J. Arrington's Mormons and Their
Historians.[53a] They write of Jenson that “His was not great
interpretive history, but it was factual, honest history.” This is far from
Anderson and Faulring's picture of Jenson bolstering his plural
marriage argument by padding a list of wives on flimsy or no evidence.
Bitton and Arrington also write, “Jenson’s style was factual and
simple, emphasizing accuracy in dates and figures.” Bitton and
Arrington emphasize that Jenson's historical method is not imaginative
or interpretive; instead, it is “factual” and “accurate.”
To support this position, Anderson and Faulring stage a concerted
attack on Jenson's list. It is "secondary, without information on why he
included a given person." (p. 74) They seem to allow the women
included in his list with a date of sealing, including who performed it,
but not those included without a date. In addition, they criticize
Jenson's research as "imperfect" because he missed listing a few
women who were sealed to Joseph.
So let us examine these charges. First, Anderson and Faulring assert
that this list is "secondary," i.e., second-hand. It is true that Jenson was
not present at any of the sealings he lists. But, as we have seen, no
evidence is perfect. In fact, some second-hand evidence is reliable, and
other second-hand evidence is suspect. Some "second-hand" evidence
is very impressive. In second-hand evidence one must ask, is the
original source reliable? And is the person reporting the original
source reliable? If they both are reliable, one can accept the source as
very valuable. (Not perfect; but no evidence is perfect.)
So, we must ask, were Jenson's sources reliable? Anderson and
Faulring write that he included these three women "without
information on why he included a given person." This is not strictly
true. Immediately before the list, Jenson wrote, "Summing up the
information received from the parties already mentioned and from
other sources, we find that the following named ladies, besides a few
others, about whom we have been unable to get all the necessary
information, were sealed to the Prophet Joseph Smith during the last
three years of his life." He got his information "from the parties
already mentioned" previously in the article (which published a
number of affidavits) "and from other sources." These were many of
the women and men who had been in Nauvoo and who had known
Joseph Smith and his plural wives intimately, such as William Clayton
(who performed one of Joseph Smith's plural marriages) and Benjamin
Johnson (two of whose sisters married Joseph Smith). And it includes
some of Joseph Smith's plural wives, who were alive and living in
Utah. Furthermore, Jenson left off the list names of women "about
whom we have been unable to get all the necessary information." The
women he allowed on the list did have the "necessary information" to
back them up.
For instance, I don't think any reasonable person would deny that
Sarah and Maria Lawrence married Joseph Smith. The evidence for
that is overwhelming. But it is not evidence from Sarah or Maria
themselves. Maria died in 1847, leaving not a single document written
by herself. Sarah died in 1872, again leaving not a single document
written by herself that I know of, and in her later life she reportedly
denied that she married Joseph Smith. On the other hand, Emily
Partridge Smith Young, Helen Mar Kimball Smith Whitney, and Lucy
and Lovina Walker provided convincing evidence that Sarah and
Maria married Joseph, though none of them were present at the
sealings, to the best of our knowledge. (Jenson also lists the Lawrence
16
I cannot imagine that Anderson and Faulring would deny that Joseph
Smith's living plural wives were very good sources for information on
other plural wives, because they socialized with each other in Nauvoo
and later, as is shown often in my book. How many of Joseph's wives
were available to Jenson as sources in the 1880's, when he was doing
his research on Joseph's plural wives? I list those who were alive in
that time period (the 1880's), though those who died before 1887 are
given with death date: Zina Huntington Jacobs Smith Young (Salt
Lake City). Presendia Huntington Buell Smith Kimball (Salt Lake
City). Sylvia Sessions Lyon Smith Kimball Clark (Bountiful, just
north of Salt Lake City, died 1882). Mary Rollins Lightner Smith
Young (Beaver, frequently visited Salt Lake City[54]). Patty Bartlett
Sessions Smith (Bountiful). Marinda Johnson Hyde Smith (Salt Lake
Finally, there is documentary evidence that Jenson consulted with
Joseph Smith's plural wives while researching the subject of Joseph
Smith's polygamy. On February 10, 1887, Emmeline B. Wells wrote to
Mary Elizabeth Lightner, one of Joseph's widows, and mentioned
Jenson's ongoing research project documenting the plural wives of
Joseph Smith: "Br. Jenson who publishes the Historical Record wants
to get interesting biographical sketches and incidents of all those who
are sealed to the Prophet Joseph for publication. I shall tell him to write
to you for yours, I do think your life has been rich in wonderful
experiences. He particularly wants dates of the ceremony
performed."[55] This shows that Jenson had enlisted Emmeline B.
Wells to reach out to Joseph Smith's plural wives for information.
Wells, of course, was or had been a good friend of many of Joseph
Smith's plural wives, such as Eliza Snow, Zina Young, Helen Mar
Whitney and Sarah Ann Whitney Kimball. (Wells had been a plural
wife of Newel K. Whitney in early Mormonism, so had close ties with
the Whitney-Kimball axis of families.)
City, died 1886). Eliza R. Snow Smith Young (Salt Lake City). Martha
McBride Knight Smith Kimball (Hooper, outside Ogden). Ruth Vose
Sayers (died 1884, Salt Lake City). Emily Partridge Smith Young (Salt
Lake City). Eliza Partridge Smith Lyman (Oak Creek, near Fillmore,
in central Utah, died 1886). Almera Johnson Smith Barton (Parowan,
in southern Utah). Lucy Walker Smith Kimball (Salt Lake City,
Logan). Helen Mar Kimball Smith Whitney (Salt Lake City).
Desdemona Fullmer Smith Benson McLane (Salt Lake City, died
1886). Melissa Lott Smith Bernhisel Willes (Lehi, some 40 miles
south of Salt Lake City). Though most of these were living in northern
Utah, Jenson often traveled through Utah doing local histories, so he
might have met those not living in Salt Lake City.
can be unreliable, but Jenson's list is very solid second-hand evidence,
with the short, strong chain of Jenson / living plural wives of Joseph
Smith.
So, the burden of proof is on Anderson and Faulring to show that
Jenson or his sources, Joseph Smith's living plural wives, were not
reliable witnesses. If they could produce an example of Jenson's
extreme bias, that would help. Anderson and Faulring do make a final
argument attacking his reliability: "His research was imperfect, for he
failed to name several women where adequate evidence shows they
were sealed to the Prophet." This is very weak -- Jenson did not have
our resources or accumulation of evidence. It is unfair to demand that
he know all the wives we know about. That he knew about
twenty-seven of them is a remarkable piece of research, though, of
course, he had living widows of Joseph Smith to interview and even
help him collect information.
If I had used John Bennett in a primary way, I would have been
roundly attacked by Anderson and Faulring and Bachman. (And in
fact, though I use Bennett in a very secondary way, Bachman still
portrays me as completely influenced by him, p. 131.) But in a startling
turn of events, here I am coming under fire for using Jenson, a very
conservative source, an Assistant Church Historian -- and moreover, a
very reliable early historian.
In a letter with no year date, but probably written in 1887, on June 8,
Zina Huntington Young, another of Joseph's widows, also wrote to
Mary Lightner and mentioned the Jenson project, requesting her to
write her life story for him: "Br Jenson the Editor is trying to get the
names of Br Joseph Smith wives a little sketch of ther history their
testimonies &c that will have a good influence and substanciate the
truth, he wants to have, to place in his history, I promised to write to
you, he gave me the book to send you // I know you are rich in
experience and are capable of making an interesting chapter."[56] Two
weeks later, in another letter, she renewed her request for Mary to
write her history for Jenson.
So I find Anderson and Faulring's attempt to trim my list from
thirty-three to twenty-nine completely unconvincing, an unexplainable
scholarly judgment. They probably will have an uphill battle if they
want to seriously convince other historians that Jenson is dishonest, or
incompetent, or that he did not have access to Joseph's wives, or other
knowledgeable Nauvoo veterans.
Jenson contacted Helen Mar Whitney directly. On May 23, 1887, she
wrote in her journal, "A Brother called to see me about writing my
testimony concerning plural marriage as wife of the Prophet Joseph to
publish in a monthly publication of his with that of others. He edits a
Danish magazine — forget title." A month later, on June 27, she again
mentioned a visit from Jenson: "Bro. Gensen called to see me - wants
me to write up incidents of my life as soon as I can. I gave him a few
incidents of Flora Gove's life who was a wife of Joseph Smith." Flora
Woodworth Gove is another wife of Joseph Smith who died before
coming to Utah, so we have no affidavit evidence for her. But the
second hand testimonies of William Clayton, Andrew Jenson, and
Helen Mar are sufficient to accept her as Joseph Smith's wife.
Incidentally, though Anderson and Faulring refer to Bachman's list of
thirty-one wives only in passing (pp. 72-73), Bachman included on his
list the three women on Jenson's list whom they disallow.[58] In fact,
Bachman includes one woman on his list whom I cautiously place on
my Possible Wives list, Vienna Jacques. They attack me for allegedly
not taking Bachman's thesis seriously enough; then they do not take his
judgment into account on an important issue.
Therefore, I would regard Jenson's list, alone, as providing a strong
case for accepting a woman as married to Joseph Smith. Anderson and
Faulring will need to present a forceful demolition of Jenson's
credibility to change my mind on that. (And imagine what a strange
picture that will present: modern FARMS/BYU researchers making an
elaborate attack on the extremely conservative former Assistant
Church Historian.) I am not arguing that Jenson is perfect; only that he
is generally extremely trustworthy. If Anderson and Faulring can find
evidence that Jenson, driven by anti-RLDS venom, was trying to pad
his list dishonestly, I would be willing to consider it.
While some of the dates on these letters are after the first publication of
Jenson's list, they show how easy it was for him to contact living plural
wives of Joseph Smith, and Zina Young's letter to Elizabeth Lightner
shows how Joseph's widows themselves were helping Jenson.
Therefore, since you cannot attack Jenson as inherently unreliable or
anti-Mormon, or his sources as unknowledgeable, it is difficult to see
how you can reject his listing of wives. If you are going to throw this
out as second hand, you should be consistent in throwing out all
second hand evidence, which would be absurd.[57] One certainly
should use second-hand evidence carefully, and some of it certainly
However, in considering the validity of these three women as plural
wives, in no case was Jenson my only source. I will consider them one
by one.
17
Winchester, Elvira Cowles, and Sarah Cleveland without specific
dates.) Some women are only given a vague year for the marriage
(Desdemona Fullmer, Sarah and Maria Lawrence.) However, Jenson
does limit the time frame for Lucinda: she was "one of the first women
sealed to the Prophet Joseph." Jenson obviously is not simply
speculating here.
Lucinda Harris.
Jenson does not give us a specific date for this marriage, but many
reliable women on the list are not given a specific date. (He lists Fanny
Alger, Lucinda Harris, Hannah Ells, Flora Woodworth, Ruth Vose,
Mary Lightner, Olive Frost, Rhoda Richards, Sylvia Sessions, Maria
Next, Lucinda had an early proxy marriage to Joseph Smith in the
Nauvoo Temple, with her husband George Washington Harris
standing proxy for Smith. As Anderson and Faulring note (p. 74), I use
the evidence of these early proxy marriages cautiously (see In Sacred
Loneliness, 2), since I discovered that one of them, Cordelia Morley
Cox, wrote that Joseph Smith had proposed to her, but she had never
married him while he lived. Therefore, I concluded that proxy
marriages, by themselves, could not be used as certain evidence for a
marriage to the living Joseph Smith. I think this was a careful,
reasonable approach. Nevertheless, in my view, early proxy marriages,
combined with other evidence, are very good evidence for a marriage
to the living Joseph Smith. For instance, of the thirty-three women on
my list, the following had early (i.e., Nauvoo Temple) proxy marriages
to Joseph Smith: Lucinda Harris, Louisa Beaman, Zina Huntington
Young, Presendia Huntington Kimball, Agnes Coolbrith Smith, Sylvia
Sessions Lyon, Mary Rollins Lightner, Elizabeth Davis Durfee, Sarah
Cleveland, Eliza Snow, Sarah Ann Whitney, Martha McBride Knight,
Emily Partridge, Eliza Partridge, Lucy Walker, Sarah Lawrence,
Maria Lawrence, Helen Mar Kimball, Elvira Cowles Holmes, Rhoda
Richards, Desdemona Fullmer, Olive Frost, Melissa Lott, and Nancy
Winchester.
Sarah Cleveland.
First, there is Jenson, and again, I would trust Jenson alone. But once
more, there are multiple pieces of corroborative evidence. There is the
early Nauvoo Temple proxy marriage to Joseph Smith, with John
Smith standing proxy. In addition, Eliza Snow later testified that when
she (Eliza) married Joseph Smith on June 29, 1842, Sarah Cleveland
stood as one of the witnesses. This was a task usually given to
previously married wives of the prophet. For instance, Sylvia Sessions
Lyon was present when her mother Patty was sealed to Joseph on
March 9, 1842. (In Sacred Loneliness, 179.) Louisa Beaman was
present when Almera Johnson married Joseph. (In Sacred Loneliness,
297.) Eliza Partridge was present when Lucy Walker married Joseph,
and also when Elvira Cowles Holmes married him. (In Sacred
Loneliness, 465, 548.)
Sometimes family members were present at plural marriages (e.g., In
Sacred Loneliness, 81, 349), but obviously Sarah Cleveland was not a
relative of Eliza Snow. Anderson and Faulring suggest that Sarah was
present at Eliza's marriage only because Eliza was staying at her
house. However, polygamy was such a closely guarded secret that it is
unlikely that this was the reason, especially considering the evidence
adduced above. (For the cloak-and- dagger atmosphere of secrecy
found in Nauvoo polygamy, see In Sacred Loneliness, 59, 350.) Again,
I would not propose this alone; but as corroborative evidence it has
real weight.
The women who did not have early proxy marriages were mostly
special cases. Hannah Ells died before the Nauvoo Temple was ready.
Flora Woodworth eloped with a non-Mormon before the Temple was
completed. Marinda Johnson Hyde was in a polyandrous relationship
with an apostle. One can see that the polyandrous relationships might
have made wives reluctant to solemnize marriages to Joseph Smith in
the temple. Delcena Johnson had an early proxy marriage, but to her
first husband, Lyman Sherman (she had married Smith as a widow).
Patty Sessions was in a polyandrous relationship. Ruth Vose, in a
polyandrous relationship, was married to a non- Mormon. Almera
Johnson and Fanny Young are the only real exceptions.
Eliza R. Snow, Sarah's good friend, lived until December 5, 1887, and
Andrew Jenson had complete access to Eliza in the years while he was
researching his list. In fact, Eliza would be Jenson's logical source.
However, Sarah Cleveland's daughter, Augusta, had married John
Lyman Smith, and had come to Utah. She was also available as a
source, for she lived till 1903, dying in Idaho.
Thus the great majority of Joseph Smith's wives did have early proxy
marriages to Smith in the Nauvoo Temple. Therefore, an early proxy
marriage to Joseph Smith is an important pointer, and if it will not
prove the marriage to the living Joseph Smith by itself, it is very strong
corroborative evidence.
Nancy Maria Winchester.
Again, I would be happy to rest my case with Jenson. However, once
again, Jenson has impressive corroborative evidence. First, we have an
early proxy marriage to Joseph Smith in the Nauvoo Temple. Then we
have Orson Whitney's Life of Heber Kimball, which was published in
Salt Lake City in 1888. Orson wrote, "After the death of the Prophet
Joseph, who had also taken many wives, most of his widows were
married, for time, to Brigham, Heber and others of the martyr's
brethren. The wives of the Prophet who wedded Heber C. Kimball
were Sarah Ann Whitney, eldest daughter of Bishop N.K. Whitney;
Lucy Walker, Prescindia Huntington, Sarah Lawrence, Mary Houston,
Martha McBride, Sylvia P. Sessions, Nancy Maria Smith and Sarah
Scott." (p. 431) On p. 436, Whitney lists wives of Heber who have not
had children by him, "most" of whom were aged ladies who he did not
live with. (This would not be the case with Nancy Maria, who was very
young when Heber married her.) Among them he lists "Maria
Winchester."
Therefore, we have Jenson, who I would accept on his own, as
evidence for Lucinda, but we also have another solid piece of entirely
conservative evidence, the early proxy marriage. Those two, taken
together, make a very solid case for Lucinda, unless we find equally
good evidence contradicting it.
However, we have one more witness, Sarah Pratt, as reported in Wyl.
Sarah was antagonistic, but in Lawrence Foster's terminology, she is
first-hand witness. She was in Nauvoo; she certainly knew Lucinda
Morgan. So Anderson and Faulring's attempts to simply disregard
Pratt are not convincing. Sarah Pratt should be considered by any
responsible historian. But I adduce Sarah as supporting evidence, after
using Jenson and the proxy marriage as primary evidence, and as I
usually do with this kind of evidence, I make allowances for extreme
rhetoric.
Orson apparently did not understand that "Maria Winchester" was the
same as "Nancy Maria Smith." But there is little doubt that this was the
case. Subsequent lists of Heber C. Kimball's wives show that the only
Nancy Maria in his family was Nancy Maria Winchester.[59]
With these three pieces of evidences corroborating each other (and I
would trust Jenson alone), Lucinda is a very solid case.
With that aside, Whitney's list is interesting for a number of reasons.
First, close readers of my book will notice two names I did not include
on my list of 33 wives, Mary Houston and Sarah Scott. However, they
18
are on my Possible Wives list. Anderson and Faulring suggest that I
thus treat Whitney's list as "questionable" (p. 77). If I thought Whitney
was unreliable evidence -- anti- Mormon, sensationalizing, not having
access to solid sources -- I obviously would have never mentioned him
at all. Actually, I did not include Mary and Sarah only because I
wanted to "err on the side of caution." I seriously debated including
Sarah, especially since her proxy marriage was to her first husband,
James Mulholland, not to Joseph Smith (which showed that Whitney
was not simply using an early proxy marriage to Joseph Smith as his
evidence.) However, I decided that, to avoid even the appearance of
padding my list, I would put Sarah and Mary in the "Possible Wives"
Who was Orson Whitney? At the time of writing the Kimball
biography, he was an influential bishop in one of the central Salt Lake
City wards, an important journalist for the Deseret News and a popular
Church speaker and orator. He would later be called as an apostle.
There is no question, by any stretch of imagination, that he was writing
out of anti- Mormon bias. Furthermore, he also wrote the
multi-volumed History of Utah that stands in the same category as
Jenson's work: first rate, unimaginative, generally reliable history,
written from the perspective of the most conservative Mormonism. He
was not one given to wild fictionalizing as a historian.
category, though Sarah is a very strong "Possible Wife." (I would have
never expected a conservative, FARMS-sponsored attack on the
credibility of Jenson and Whitney, obviously.)
I should emphasize that Whitney's list overtly refers to women who
married Joseph Smith before his death. It is not referring to proxy
marriages. This is proven by the fact that Sarah Scott did not have a
proxy marriage to Joseph Smith. In fact, the Book of Proxy, #160, the
original Nauvoo Temple proxy sealing record, refers to her as "Sarah
Smith," see In Sacred Loneliness, 631.
Nauvoo, was a close friend of Joseph Smith, and was an Assistant
President of the church. His list of plural wives is made more
believable by the fact that it is not surrounded by rhetoric -- it is a bare
list.[61] And other names on the list fit with supporting evidence. It is
interesting that here, for the first time, Elizabeth Durfee and Patty
Sessions are found linked with each other. Patty, of course, was
certainly a plural wife of Joseph Smith, for in her own diaries she left a
record of her marriage ceremony to Smith. (She left no formal
affidavit.)
Sarah Pratt, the wife of an important early apostle, was also in Nauvoo
and in Utah. She said, "She [Elizabeth] boasted here in Salt Lake of
having been one of Joseph's plural wives." (quoted in In Sacred
Loneliness, 701.) Anderson and Faulring seem to be certain that Sarah
could not have heard Elizabeth do the boasting, but supply no reason
for this. That seems to be the import of the statement to me. Elizabeth
was in Utah for a period of time. Sarah Pratt was in Utah. Anderson
and Faulring's reasoning escapes me here.
Did he have access to Kimball family and Smith family sources? His
mother was Helen Mar Kimball (Smith Whitney), the only living
daughter of Heber Kimball with his first wife Vilate. Orson thus grew
up knowing the extensive Kimball family on an intimate basis. And
Helen Mar, of course, had been an actual wife of Joseph Smith in
Nauvoo, and was friendly with other Smith widows in Salt Lake City.
Orson had frequent contact with his mother while he wrote the
biography of his grandfather. As if that were not enough, his aunt
Sarah Ann Whitney Kimball, his father's sister, had also been a plural
wife of Joseph Smith and of Heber C. Kimball.
Joseph Jackson was a more peripheral figure in Nauvoo Mormonism
than Bennett and Pratt, so, once again, I use him only as corroboration.
But he is valuable corroboration. He asserts that Elizabeth, with two
other women, was a "Mother in Israel" who helped teach younger
women the principles of polygamy. He does not explicitly say that
"Mothers in Israel" were wives of Joseph Smith. Nevertheless his list
is as follows: "Mrs. Tailar, old Madam Durfee and old Madam
Sessions." (quoted at In Sacred Loneliness, 260). Once again, we see
Elizabeth Durfee linked with Patty Sessions, and we know that Patty
was a plural wife of Joseph Smith. Note that Emily Partridge supports
Jackson, for she portrays Elizabeth as helping facilitate Joseph's
marriage to her, a younger woman.
In summary, I regard Anderson and Faulring's attempts to undermine
Jenson's and Whitney's credibility, along with all the corroborative
evidence supporting their lists, as unconvincing and extremely odd.
Elizabeth Davis
So we finally turn to Elizabeth Davis (Anderson and Faulring, p. 76).
Though she does not show up on Jenson's list, the sheer weight of
evidence, conservative and antagonistic, pointing to her as a wife of
Joseph is very impressive. If we were dealing with one or even two
flimsy pieces of evidence, Anderson and Faulring might have a
reasonable argument for disallowing her -- but that is not the case.
There is one more source, this one sympathetic, that links Elizabeth
and Patty. In the Willard Richards journal, July 9, 1845, we read that
"Sister Durphy, Sessions, Rhoda [Richards]" (another older wife of
Joseph Smith) and other women helped prepared Willard Richard's
wife for burial. (In Sacred Loneliness, 264). This supports a pattern in
Bennett and Jackson, the linking of Elizabeth and Patty.
To look at conservative evidence first, there is an early, Nauvoo
Temple proxy marriage to Joseph Smith. As I mentioned above, this is
an important pointer. Though I would not accept it alone, if there is
corroborative evidence I accept it as very convincing.
Starting from the proxy marriage and adding all of these data, we end
up with a very strong case for Elizabeth Durfee as a plural wife. Note
how each piece of evidence supports other pieces of evidence.
Elizabeth Durfee and Patty Sessions are linked by Bennett, Jackson,
Willard Richards. Elizabeth Durfee as agent for recruiting young
plural wives is found in Partridge and Jackson. Elizabeth as plural wife
of Joseph is shown by the proxy marriage, Bennett, and Pratt, and is
supported by the linking with Patty Sessions. So unless Anderson and
Faulring find actual positive evidence showing that Elizabeth was not
a wife of Joseph, the case for her as one of Joseph's older plural wives
remains very strong, in my view.
Second, Emily Partridge's autobiographical writings show that
Elizabeth Davis acted for Joseph Smith as an agent in recruiting Emily
into polygamy (In Sacred Loneliness, 407). As I have mentioned
above, there is a great deal of evidence showing that Joseph often used
his previously married wives in approaching prospective wives.
Louisa Beaman and Delcena Johnson help prepare Almera Johnson (In
Sacred Loneliness, 297); Marinda Hyde tries to prepare Nancy Rigdon
(In Sacred Loneliness, 239).[60] The data for previous wives present at
marriage ceremonies, adduced above, at the very least shows previous
wives giving moral support to the proceedings, and may be the sign of
previous socialization of the prospective wife by the other wives.
The Date of Fanny Alger's Marriage
Anderson and Faulring (pp. 78-79) agree that Fanny Alger married
Joseph Smith in Kirtland, but propose an 1835 date for her marriage to
Joseph, rather than February or March 1833, as my book suggests. (In
Sacred Loneliness, 32-33.) To do this they reject the clear witness of
Taken together, these two pieces of evidence create a good foundation
for Elizabeth as a plural wife of Smith. But there is further evidence,
Bennett, Sarah Pratt, and Jackson. The former two are very "primary"
antagonistic evidence. Bennett, for all his character flaws, was in
19
Mosiah Hancock reporting Levi Hancock, and assert that Benjamin
Johnson is a more reliable authority on this question.
Smith and Alger, his father Levi, and who in fact performed the
ceremony. Furthermore, Anderson and Faulring agree that
Mosiah/Levi Hancock are "no doubt correct in general circumstances
of Fanny's Kirtland sealing." (p. 78). Nevertheless, they unaccountably
contend that "Benjamin's recollections furnish the most reliable
chronology available." (Ibid.)
Both Mosiah and Benjamin were writing late reminiscences, Mosiah
writing in 1896, Benjamin writing in 1903.[62] Both sources are
second hand, as neither Mosiah nor Benjamin witnessed the marriage
of Smith and Alger. However, Mosiah, Fanny Alger's full cousin, had
as his informant someone who was actually present at the marriage of
They argue that Benjamin, as a teenager in Kirtland, was a first-hand
witness of Kirtland polygamy circumstances, while Mosiah was very
young. However, Benjamin as a teenager in Kirtland clearly heard
only rumors of the Smith-Alger marriage, so he is as much a
second-hand witness as Mosiah. Mosiah's source, however, his father
Levi, was a first-hand witness to the Smith-Alger marriage, while
Johnson had no similar "inside" source, no witness to the marriage
ceremony. And the chronology of Levi clearly places the marriage of
Smith-Alger back in early 1833. If Anderson and Faulring were to
reject Levi/Mosiah Hancock completely, they might have a more
logical case for rejecting the 1833 date.
her subject. For instance, a Freudian interpretation of Luther would be
psychohistory. So Anderson and Faulring's characterization of my
work as psychohistory seems to me flatly incorrect.
Anderson and Faulring certainly look as if they are trying to paint me
into the same corner with Brodie. Their description of my purported
"naturalistic tendencies" would also put me in Brodie's camp. I find
this extremely odd, given my repeated critiques of Brodie, and my
stark ideological variances from Brodie (both in the matter of Freud
and the matter of God).
The Lawrence sisters and William Law
Anderson and Faulring take me to task for "undervaluing" a paper by
Gordon Madsen on legal issues connected with Joseph Smith and the
Lawrence sisters. (p. 91.) Here I faced great difficulties. I was lucky
enough to be present at Madsen's 1996 MHA presentation, and
obtained a copy of his handout, and tried to take notes during his
presentation. However, this was not easy, because Madsen, an
attorney, was dealing with technical legal issues, and as a non-lawyer,
I did not understand everything he said immediately. Sometimes he
was commenting on legal documents shown on an overhead projector,
and some of these were not on the handout. (And in the dark it was not
easy to take notes.) At the end of the presentation, I talked to Madsen,
and told him I'd like to get together and go over the material more
fully. He did not look enthusiastic, but gave me his card. He said the
article was going to be published in the Journal of Mormon History. I
called him in the following days, leaving a message on his machine.
But he did not return my call, to the best of my knowledge. (I was
staying with relatives in Salt Lake City.)
A careful look at Benjamin Johnson's statements shows how he was
dependent on rumor of the Smith-Alger marriage. "In 1835 at Kirtland
I learned from my Sisters Husband Lyman R. Shirman, who was close
to the Prophet and Recieved it from him. 'That the ancient order of
plural marriage was again to be practiced by the Church . . ." Johnson
himself was not close to Joseph Smith at this stage. "Altho there then
lived with his Family a Neighbors daughter Fanny Alger . . . and it was
whispered eaven then that Joseph Loved her . . ." Note that Johnson
only heard rumors, whispers.
There is trouble between Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery, "and
whisper Said it was Relating to a girl then living in his [Smith's]
Family." Once again, Johnson is reporting rumor, "whisper." "And I
was afterwords told by Warren Parish That he himself & Oliver
Cowdery did know that Joseph had Fanny Alger as a wife for They
were Spied upon & found together."[63] Once again, Benjamin reports
what Parrish told him, which is valuable, as I have mentioned that
second hand evidence can be usable. But Johnson's source, Parrish, is
not bearing witness to the beginning of the Smith-Alger marriage, the
ceremony.
This was not an ideal situation for me. Evidently he did not want to
share his research with me further. But I think every scholar has the
complete right to work on his material till he feels that he is ready to
share it with the world in organized, polished fashion, so I did not feel
comfortable calling him up again and demanding all of his documents
and rough drafts. I had no alternative but to wait for the Journal of
Mormon History paper. When that did not appear before my book
went to press, I tried to use my notes for Madsen's paper as best I
could, for In Sacred Loneliness. (Madsen's paper still has not been
published at the time of writing.)
Johnson does not contradict Mosiah/Levi Hancock. He merely reports
that he, not an intimate of Joseph Smith in 1835, began to hear rumors
of polygamy and rumors of Joseph's marriage to Fanny at that time.
This obviously does not preclude a secret ceremony in 1833, but
actually fits in with that picture. Even if Johnson had contradicted
Mosiah/Levi Hancock, Mosiah and Levi, as close relatives of Fanny,
and Levi with first-hand knowledge of the marriage, are witnesses
closer to the truth than Johnson was. Johnson's account of the rumors
and whispers of the marriage is valuable, but it does not deny Mosiah
and Levi Hancock's account of the ceremony.
Under these circumstances, how can Anderson and Faulring criticize
me for not fully reporting the findings of an unpublished paper? I did
the best I could with what Madsen was willing to make public in a
limited, oral presentation. (And I welcomed his technically
knowledgeable evaluation of the Lawrence situation, and the
documents he presented. I could have easily left them out, as Madsen's
paper was not published.) But I straightforwardly wrote, "I have
followed Madsen as closely as possible from my notes, but do not have
his written argument and citations." (In Sacred Loneliness, 742.)
If you successfully discount Mosiah/Levi's credibility, you might get
rid of the earlier dating for the Alger-Smith marriage, but then you lose
your best evidence for a formal marriage with ceremony. So Anderson
and Faulring's attempt to redate the ceremony by arguing that
Mosiah/Levi are unreliable only on this point is very unconvincing.
"Psychohistory"
Anderson and Faulring refer to my work as "psychohistory" (p. 71), a
term associated with Fawn Brodie's Freudian style of biography, a
characterization that certainly took me by surprise. Every biographer
tries to get into the mind of his or her subject; every biographer tries to
sympathize with his or her subject and understand how he or she
thought or felt. But "psychohistory" refers to a historian who uses, in a
pronounced way, a doctrinaire psychological theory to examine his or
As for William Law, once again, Anderson and Faulring seem to
suggest that William Law's memories were entirely false and
deceptive, and I should not have referred to them at all. In fact, Law
was in Nauvoo; he knew Joseph Smith and the Lawrence sisters. His
memories of the events in question deserve to be looked at and
assessed. Anderson and Faulring's suggestion that Law's memories are
all true or all false is problematic to me. People may make factual
errors in their memories, yet the memories can still have validity in
20
some ways. (And it is wrong to completely demonize William Law;
for a view of his humanity, see In Sacred Loneliness, 405.)
Did Emma Know of Joseph Smith's Marriages?
I did not focus on Emma in my book. Newell and Avery have written
an excellent full- length biography of her, so I did not feel the need to
write a chapter on her. Nevertheless, she is a character in my book, so I
did mention and discuss her at some points, though she is not a focus.
In summary, Anderson and Faulring in all fairness should have
commended me for knowing about Madsen's work and trying to use it
as much as I could under difficult circumstances. But until Madsen
actually publishes his work, it is absurd to critique me for not using it
adequately.
Based on the evidence we have, my conclusion is that Joseph Smith
generally did not tell Emma before he married a plural wife. Anderson
and Faulring apparently take the position that Joseph Smith often
consulted with Emma before marrying plural wives. (pp. 84-86,
especially 85- 86, "the Prophet surely sought Emma's consent in taking
other wives.")[64]
When Heber C. Kimball married his first plural wife, he did so without
informing his first wife Vilate, despite his deep love for her. It is
significant that he did this under the explicit instruction of Joseph
Smith, "for fear that she [Vilate] would not receive the principle."[72]
This shows that for Joseph Smith, if the husband suspected that a first
wife would not receive a plural wife, the husband was morally justified
in marrying the plural wife without the first wife's knowledge.[73]
The ideal in all polygamy was that the first wife would be consulted by
the husband, would be asked for her permission, then would either
give it or withhold it, which theoretically she had power to do. When
she gave it, there was a ritual in which the first wife placed the hand of
the plural wife into the hand of her husband.[65] In practice this
system was sometimes used, and the husband consulted with his first
wife's feelings before marrying a new wife. There are occasions in
which she did not agree, so he did not marry the plural wife. For an
example of this kind of sensitivity, see the story of Franklin
Weaver.[66] Sometimes the first wife actually encouraged the
husband to take a plural wife.[67]
When Joseph asks Newel and Elizabeth Whitney, and Sarah Ann
Whitney Smith to meet him secretly soon after he had married Sarah
Ann (and again, Emma does not figure in the accounts of the
ceremony), he specifically enjoins them to come when Emma is not
present. He wrote, "the only thing to be careful of; is to find out when
Emma comes then you cannot be safe, but when she is not here, there
is the most perfect safty . . ." (See In Sacred Loneliness, 350.) In my
view, this passage, combined with the fact that Emma was not present
during Sarah Ann's marriage to Joseph, suggests that Emma was not
part of the inner circle that knew of Sarah Ann's marriage to Joseph.
However, if a wife withheld her permission, she might be viewed as
rebelling against the priesthood, so in some situations it was difficult
for a wife to withhold permission, even when she wanted to. Many
women gave permission for further wives only grudgingly.[68] In
some cases, the husband simply married without letting his first wife
or previous wives know. The classic example of this was Heber C.
Kimball, who said, at his first wife Vilate's funeral, "I have taken 40
wives & many without her knowledge."[69]
If Anderson and Faulring can find positive evidence that shows Emma
was present during more plural marriage ceremonies, this would
strengthen their position.
Positive and Negative Evidence for Polygamy
Anderson and Faulring describe In Sacred Loneliness as pure
negativity, and accuse me of mounting a single-minded "campaign"
[p. 70] against polygamy. In such a situation, one would expect them
to marshal information from other sources to show that polygamy was
not as bad as I have described it. However, Anderson and Faulring
follow the curious strategy of showing my book's negativity by
adducing positive evidence for polygamy from the pages of In Sacred
Loneliness itself. For instance, they quote (p. 71) a supposed negative
comment on polygamy from In Sacred Loneliness: Orson Whitney
followed his grandfather and father "in accepting the onerous burden
of polygamy" (In Sacred Loneliness, 531.) Actually, this is an example
of Anderson and Faulring taking a very neutral statement in In Sacred
Loneliness and portraying it as negative. Polygamy, good or bad, was
an onerous burden for husbands, both financially, emotionally, and
from a standpoint of dividing time. To combat this supposed negative
statement, they write, "Actually, Orson married his second wife with
the consent of the first and lived in the normative dual-wife pattern in
Utah."[74] Anderson and Faulring continue: "In fact, Compton
describes how well this two- household system worked through the
fairness of Horace Whitney, Orson's father, and the considerate
sisterhood of his wives (see [In Sacred Loneliness] p. 513)." If I were
pursuing a "campaign" against polygamy and Mormon polygamists,
why would I include this "positive" information in my book?
In the case of Joseph Smith, in only four cases do we have evidence
that Emma knew about the marriages before they were solemnized: the
Lawrence sisters (In Sacred Loneliness, 743); possibly Eliza R.
Snow[70]; and possibly Melissa Lott.[71] The Partridge sisters are a
special case, for there were two marriages ceremonies for each of
them. First Joseph married them without Emma's knowledge, then,
when Emma selected them to marry Joseph, they resolemnized the
marriages. So though Emma gave her permission for them to marry
Joseph, they are nevertheless a solid example of Joseph marrying
without Emma's knowledge.
In five of the six marriages above (counting the second Partridge
marriages), Emma was reportedly present at the marriages. In no other
plural marriages do we have evidence that Emma was present when
Joseph's marriages were solemnized. For example, Emma does not
figure in the accounts of the Fanny Alger marriage ceremony. She
enters the picture only as an angry wife demanding that Fanny leave
her house, possibly when Fanny was pregnant, not accepting her as a
plural wife. She is also not present at the very secret marriage of
Joseph Smith to Louisa Beaman in Nauvoo.
If we had evidence that Emma was present at other marriages, this
would bolster Anderson and Faulring's apparent arguments that Emma
usually knew and agreed to Joseph Smith's marriages. But the lack of
any positive evidence for her permission, and her conspicuous absence
in any marriage ceremonies except the three (not counting the
duplicative Partridge ceremonies) mentioned above, and her anger
when she did discover evidence of a relationship, suggest that she was
not part of the inner polygamy circle, except in the cases of the
Partridges (for the second ceremonies) and the Lawrences, Snow
(possibly), Melissa Lott (possibly),.
Anderson and Faulring quote a number of positive statements about
polygamy from In Sacred Loneliness on p. 98. Again, this does not fit
in with their characterization of my book as driven by pure negativity.
In my treatment of Emily Partridge and Brigham Young, Anderson
and Faulring accuse me of using "selective evidence" (p. 97) to portray
that difficult relationship as worse than it really was. Yet they mention
Brigham's providing Emily homes to live in (all well attested in my
chapter), and end with Emily's statement at Brigham death: "I believe
President Young has done his whole duty towards Joseph Smith's
21
family. They have sometimes felt that their lot was hard, but no blame
or censure rests upon him." (p. 98, quoting In Sacred Loneliness, 423.)
Once again, Anderson and Faulring cite their "contrary evidence" from
Anderson and Faulring assert that In Sacred Loneliness "avoids a
detailed discussion of the deeply religious and moral principles
undergirding the implementation of Mormon plural marriage.
Compton's presentation offers little that could be considered faithful or
sympathetic understanding of the doctrinal foundations of the
practice." (p. 99). Once again, Anderson and Faulring seem to portray
me as far over in the Brodie secularist camp. But then the careful
reader may very well scratch his head, for on p. 68, Anderson and
Faulring write, "Compton recognizes that deep spiritual conviction
was at the base of reestablishing the marriage system of the ancient
patriarchs." (They then quote from In Sacred Loneliness, 312.) The flat
contradiction between these two quotes is especially striking. And just
two pages after p. 99, we read, ". . . personal revelation through
promptings and visions . . . induced the men and women around the
Prophet to accept plural marriage." This would be a good place for
Anderson and Faulring to list such promptings and visions that I had
left out because of my supposed "naturalistic"/atheist viewpoint. But
Anderson and Faulring do not need to -- for reasons that obviously
contradict their "naturalistic" portrayal of me, I often included
references to such passages. Anderson and Faulring continue: "Many
of their spiritual verifications are quoted by the author, whose industry
and honesty are admirable in liberally presenting the words of these
early Saints."
In Sacred Loneliness itself.
137.) By this reasoning, one doesn't have to make the effort to read,
review and assess the whole book.
Bachman does not allow me even a shred of possible validity in those
three or four pages he reviews in detail. His analysis reminds me of
those comical legal documents in which the attorney objects to every
single word in the opposing document. Bachman asserts that I am
writing "pure fantasy" (133); and I have "taken" Mormon arch-enemy
John C. Bennett's "bait." (p. 131). He repeats over and over again that I
do not have even minimal competence as a historian: "He is imprecise
in analyzing texts." "His historical analysis is elementary." (p. 135)
Bachman is not merely saying that he disagrees with me. He would
have you believe that I am given to hallucinations.
While I do not think that my book is perfect, and fully agree that
competent historians might disagree with sections of it, I think this
scorched-earth rhetoric undermines Bachman's position. In regard to
the question of whether I have minimal competence as a historian, the
book has received awards from historical organizations I respect, the
Mormon History Association and the RLDS John Whitmer Historical
Society. Bachman might argue that these awards might have been
influenced by the biographies of the women rather than the first
chapter which he attacks. However, as has been mentioned, this very
chapter was published first as an article in Dialogue, and as an article,
was singled out for special recognition, winning the Mormon History
Association's "T. Edgar Lyon Award of Excellence for an Article in
Mormon History" in May 1997. While these awards are not blanket
endorsements of all the details found in my book, the experienced
historians who were on the panels that gave the awards would not
reward a writer given to "pure fantasy," who lacked even minimal
competence in the historian's craft.
What is my explanation of these (frequent) positive statements about
polygamy in a book that often looks at its limitations? I continue to
agree with my main thesis -- by definition, a polygamous husband is
divided (emotionally, and in respect to his time and resources) -- more
and more, depending on the extent of his polygamy. Yet when
extraordinary, Christlike people practiced it, it did not prevent them
from being extraordinary and Christlike. (At the same time, many
flawed people, male and female, practiced it, with often tragic results.
Some polygamous men, I felt, would have been successful
monogamous husbands, but the strains of polygamy caused them to
divide themselves in ways that were not fair to some of their wives.)
A more level-headed approach would have been for Bachman to
review the whole book, give a balanced assessment of its strengths and
weaknesses, then say he disagrees strongly with some aspects of the
prologue. (None of these three reviewers seem very interested in the
actual women who were the focus of my book. At least, they did not
spend much time discussing the women I focus on, but they instead
focus on Joseph Smith.)
My short answer is: I included many of those positive things about
polygamy in my book because I was trying to be a balanced historian. I
think this is one more example of Anderson and Faulring
misunderstanding, and being intolerant of, a moderate position.[75]
So let's look at the few pages that Bachman disagrees with in my
Prologue, that lead him to hint darkly that the rest of the 824 pages in
the book are completely worthless. There are basically two issues here:
(1) why Joseph Smith married so many women and (2) why he married
some women who was already married to other men in civil marriages.
This second issue is broken down into two parts: (a) the religious
"illegality" of civil marriages as opposed to "eternal" priesthood
marriages, and (b) the idea that some couples were linked in the
pre-existence.
Thesis
Anderson and Faulring object to my providing a "road-map" to the
reader too often, especially with reference to the central theme of my
book. I regret that these statements of my thesis seemed too
heavy-handed to Anderson and Faulring and readers similar to them.
However, all authors will remember times when readers did not
understand the thesis of a paper, or in fact, did not understand that the
paper even had an overarching thesis. So I wanted to make clear what
the organizing interpretation of my book was. I did not want my book
to be seen as mere "compilation" history. Certainly, if I had been a
better writer, I might have expressed my thesis in ways that Anderson
and Faulring might have found more acceptable. But on the other
hand, structurally, I think it is entirely justified to state one's central
theme, then refer to it from time to time. I do not think I drag it in when
it has no connection to the content of the biography in question.
Why so many wives?
Issue one: Why did Joseph Smith marry so many women? Abraham,
Joseph Smith's primary model, did not marry many women -- why did
Joseph? He could have married two women and fulfilled the polygamy
requirement. Now, if I'd been in Brodie's camp, it would have been
easy to say, he simply was simply sexually promiscuous. Brodie
writes, "For once Joseph had succeeded to his own satisfaction in
revolutionizing the Puritan concept of sin, there was no stopping
him."[76] However, as I have mentioned, my book is a reaction against
Brodie. So when faced with this issue, I looked for a religious reason
for the number of wives in Joseph's family.
Responses to Bachman:
Responding to the Prologue
Bachman spends most of his review criticizing three or four pages in
my prologue in every possible way, then in effect says, What if
everything else in the book is just as completely, absolutely false? (p.
22
My search for a religious motivation does not merit any praise, or even
recognition, from Bachman; he must go on the attack. I look to a
number of sympathetic sources that create a scenario for number of
wives, the idea that the greater the size of a man's kingdom on this
earth, the greater his dominion and glory in the next life. (In Sacred
Loneliness, 10-11) There are Benjamin Johnson (a friend of Joseph
Smith, writing in a memoir); Joseph Fielding (a Nauvoo period
journal); and Helen Smith (wife of a church patriarch, in a letter,
1857.) I use the word salvation instead of exaltation, or highest degree
of glory, since my book was not written to lifetime Mormons alone;
part of its audience was non-Mormons. But obviously, Latter-day
Saints view salvation in the context of three degrees of glory, and
within them, sublevels. For the LDS, the fullness of salvation is to
achieve the highest possible glory. So I equate the non-LDS view of
"salvation" with "highest possible eschatological status." Now here are
the words in question: "Dominion & powr in the great Future"
(Johnson), "a Man,s Dominion will be a God,s" (Fielding) and "greater
glory" (Smith). All of which are dependent on the quantity of the
family. (I also use a number of other sources in this section that
Bachman should have mentioned: Jedediah Grant; sources relating to
the practice of adoption in late Nauvoo and early Utah; and sources
relating to the importance of the Abrahamic promise in Joseph Smith's
writings.)
disaffected Mormon). Even if Bachman's explanation might apply to
those four, it did not apply to the totality of the marriages, so I had to
look elsewhere for an explanation of Smith's polyandry. Once again,
Bachman is willing to characterize my writing as "pure fantasy," but
then has not supplied a positive, alternate explanation for those seven
marriages.
When faced with this problem, again, as I have mentioned, I looked for
a religious, doctrinal rationale, whereas if I'd been following the
Brodie path, I would have simply portrayed Joseph Smith as pursuing
other men's wives for sexual reasons.
Bachman writes, in a heated rhetorical question, ". . . are we obligated
to accept and believe it [an interpretation] as Todd Compton has
recounted it?" (p. 133) Let me reemphasize that the quotations I cite
and the concepts I develop have been useful to me in understanding a
complex issue, but I never meant them to be put forward as some kind
of binding doctrinal pronouncement, or a final, authoritative historical
position. I have never dogmatically demanded that anyone accept
them. All readers are completely free to consider them, accept or reject
them in part or completely, then, if they wish, turn to other
interpretations they find more useful. If significant new evidence is
found in the future, they may be modified.
Bachman writes: "where does Johnson say 'complete salvation'?" A
summary by its very nature does not simply quote the summarized
text. However, to say, as Bachman does, that "Dominion & powr in the
great Future" (Johnson), "a Man,s Dominion will be a God,s"
(Fielding) and "greater glory" (Smith) have absolutely nothing to do
with "salvation," "exaltation," and "highest possible eschatological
status" is to my mind absurd.
Civil marriages -- "illegal," earthly, lower
The first concept that I felt was useful in this regard was the concept of
religious "illegality" of civil marriages in Nauvoo Mormonism (and I
quote John D. Lee and Orson Pratt). I'm not sure that Bachman and I
are seriously disagreeing about anything here. He presents evidence
that Mormons engaged in civil marriage in Kirtland, Missouri and
Nauvoo, as they certainly did, though he shows that sometimes Joseph
Smith did not require divorce from a civil marriage before remarriage
in a Mormon context. However, I was not suggesting that Joseph
Smith and the Mormons were rejecting civil marriage within an earthly
context. But just as a Mormon marriage performed in a Mormon
chapel by a Mormon bishop today is not seen to have any eternal
consequence, so all marriages apart from eternal sealings were seen to
be of a lower nature once Joseph had begun to practice celestial
marriage.
Bachman attacks my argument here from every possible angle. He
vehemently denies that Joseph Smith taught this doctrine ("as if they
all reflect the thinking and practice of Joseph Smith," p. 135) despite
the fact that Benjamin Johnson wrote, "the Prophet taught us that"
(cited in In Sacred Loneliness, 10). If Fielding (who had close ties to
the Smith family) is holding to a very similar doctrine in Nauvoo, and
Johnson tells us Joseph Smith was the source (and Johnson was a close
confidant of Joseph Smith), it is not a wild jump, "pure fantasy," to
suppose that the doctrine had its origin with Joseph Smith.
Bachman makes a distinction between civil marriages performed by
non-Mormons and civil marriages performed by Mormons, but for the
purpose of my argument, that distinction is not really significant. All
marriages performed among Mormons since Kirtland were
resolemnized as eternal sealings in Nauvoo and later. I think this is
what John D. Lee meant when he wrote, "About the same time the
doctrine of 'sealing' for an eternal state was introduced, and the Saints
were given to understand that their marriage relations with each other
were not valid . . . They were married to each other only by their own
covenants." (Quoted at In Sacred Loneliness, 17.) Lee does not make a
distinction between earlier civil marriages performed by
non-Mormons or Mormons. He makes a general statement referring to
"the Saints." Neither I, nor Lee, said that civil marriages were by
definition "sinful" -- according to Lee, they were sinful only if the
partners continued the marriage "in alienation from each other."
However, their civil marriages did have the validity of "their own
covenants" if they were "productive of blessings and peace" and were
cemented "by love and affection." So I agree that the lower, civil
marriage, sometimes solemnized by Mormons, did have some limited
validity to Mormons.
It is curious to me that Bachman should write so emotionally on this
issue, as my discussion here is not by any means an attack on Joseph
Smith. It is more an attack on the one- sided sexual analysis of Fawn
Brodie.
Finally, as is typical of Bachman in his review, he tries to utterly
discount my argument, but then he does not give an alternate
explanation for the number of Joseph's plural wives. He is not offering
a constructive critique, part of a discussion intended to further insight.
Polyandry
As Bachman turns to polyandry, he disapprovingly observes that I
reject the perspective of "informed Mormons" (p. 119) that Joseph
Smith was sealed to married women primarily because they were
married to unworthy men. Bachman himself offered this theory in his
thesis[77] as I note at In Sacred Loneliness, 639. I respectfully
disagreed with this theory, as a holistic explanation for polyandry, but
I in fact respected, and respect his master's thesis. He is one of the few
conservative Mormon historians who has even made an attempt to
consider the issue of Joseph Smith and polyandry.
But my main point was that this kind of marriage, even if solemnized
by Mormons, was still a lower form of marriage, compared to eternal
sealings. From the eternal perspective, it was not a marriage at all. I
think Bachman will agree with me completely here.
But when I had arrived at a list of wives that I felt I could rely on, there
were eleven women who were polyandrous, but only four of the eleven
had problematic marriages (three married to non-Mormons, one to a
23
Another reference I cite that Bachman unaccountably overlooked is
Jedediah Grant's remarkable 1854 reference to polyandry. (Quoted at
In Sacred Loneliness, 18, 639.) Grant, specifically talking in the
context of Joseph's polyandry, said, "Joseph says all covenants are
done away, and none are binding but the new covenants." Grant, a
member of the First Presidency when he made the speech, was a
Nauvoo veteran, and moreover was a close friend to Brigham Young
and Heber C. Kimball, who were thoroughly familiar with Joseph's
polyandrous marriages. Despite the "lower" validity of civil marriage,
even that solemnized by Mormons, no covenants were binding "but the
new covenants."
absolutely no possible connection to this strong linking in the
pre-existence, the strong linking in the pre-existence remains, and so
my argument is not really affected.
As Bachman notes, I then proceed to look at all the available evidence
that parallels this concept, from both Mormon and non-Mormon
sources. Bachman objects strongly to my use of these non-Mormon
sources, and strives to give the impression that I have based my whole
argument on them. Actually, as I always try to do, I based my
argument on sympathetic sources, the two quite authoritative
references by Lightner. They alone would make my point here. We
have just two autobiographical records of the eleven polyandrous
marriages -- the writings of Zina Huntington Young (sketchy) and
Mary Rollins Lightner. This is the best evidence we have on how
Joseph proposed to his polyandrous wives; they are very important
sources. Nevertheless, I believe the other, non-Mormon, sources
provide valuable context and depth here.
I believe this principle gives insight into why Joseph Smith would
superimpose one marriage (higher, eternal) onto another (lower,
temporal) -- from an eternal perspective, the other marriage had no
validity, was not even a marriage. However, I agree with Bachman that
even the lower marriages had some earthly validity if, as Lee wrote,
they were "productive of blessings and peace" and were cemented "by
love and affection."
Bachman objects to my phrase "spiritual intuition" (referring to Joseph
Smith) and states flatly that I thus exclude the possibility of revelation.
"But Compton doesn't entertain these or other possibilities." (p. 128.)
I'm at a loss to understand how Bachman came to this conclusion, but I
did not mean "spiritual intuition" to in any way exclude the possibility
of inspiration or revelation. Revelation I believe comes in many ways,
from lengthy visions to subtle hints, from literal, physical angelic
messengers to more impressionistic inspirations. In the priesthood
lesson I attended on the day I first wrote this paragraph, we discussed
Brigham Young's very expansive concepts of revelation -- "all the arts
and sciences in the world are from God." "From [God] has every
astronomer, artist and mechanician that ever lived on the earth
obtained his knowledge."[80] So when Bachman states that I exclude
revelation when using the word "spiritual" here, it is one more case of
him trying to portray me as an atheist, for reasons best known only to
himself. He and I might disagree on how inspiration works (I think it is
a very complex question), but there is no question of my rejecting God
or inspiration given to men.
Finally, while Bachman would have you believe that my reasoning
here is based on "pure fantasy," other respected historians of polygamy
have made this same argument. For instance, in Lawrence Foster's
treatment of what I refer to as polyandry,[78] he calls it the "all
previous covenants suspended" argument, and he quotes many of the
same sources I do, including the John D. Lee quote. Unless Bachman
is willing to accuse Foster, a respected historian of Mormon polygamy,
of "pure fantasy" here also, he is practicing special pleading. In fact,
Bachman's own treatment of Nauvoo polygamy makes many of the
same points I do, citing many of the same sources.[79]
Pre-existence and polyandry
Second, a concept that I discovered in the Mary Elizabeth Lightner
autobiographies was very useful to me when I was trying to understand
the superimposition of higher upon a lower marriage. Mary wrote that
Joseph Smith, when proposing to her while she was married to another
man, said, "Joseph Said I was his, before I came here." Elsewhere she
wrote that Smith told her that, "I [Mary] was created for him before the
foundation of the Earth was laid." Certainly, if we accept Mary as a
credible witness, Joseph was referring to a connection, a linking he had
with Mary in the pre-existence as authorizing or requiring the
polyandrous marriage.
Here is a case where Bachman would have been well advised to use
cautious probability language -- it is manifestly unwise for a writer to
make a dogmatic assertion regarding another writer's supposed belief
or disbelief. I think this is a case where I have a "moderate" view of
revelation and inspiration, and Bachman reacts by flatly labeling me
an atheist.
I wrote: "he asserted that she had been sealed to him in the
pre-existence." Bachman objects to my use of the work "sealed" here,
as Mary never used such a word. (p. 128) However, as I have
mentioned before, a summary is never simply a direct quotation. Mary
never used the word "pre-existence" here either, but it is clear that that
was what she was referring to. Joseph's statements to Mary Lightner
show that he taught that he and Lightner were strongly linked in the
pre-existence -- she had belonged to him. In fact, she was expressly
created for Joseph Smith. The Mormon term "seal" came to mean
"link" by the Nauvoo period, and clearly Joseph and Mary were
strongly linked in the pre-existence, according to Joseph's teachings.
But even if Bachman entirely disallowed the term "seal" as having
Bachman would prefer to reject Hall completely. However, the two
"conservative" references to "kindred spirits" are a problem for such a
wholesale rejection. Therefore, in an interpretation seemingly out of
nowhere, he ascribes the phrase found in a patriarchal blessing given
by William Smith to the influence of John Bennett. This was a
surprising interpretation for me, as I did not know of any connection
between William Smith and Bennett at this time, July 16, 1845. I
consulted the biography of Bennett by Andrew Smith, The Saintly
Scoundrel: The Life and Times of Dr. John Cook Bennett,[81] and the
chapter on William Smith in Irene Bates and Gary Smith's Lost
Legacy: The Mormon Office of Presiding Patriarch.[82] I could find
no connection between Smith and Bennett at this time documented in
I now turn to the sources that in my view provide added context to the
Lightner quotes. William Hall wrote that Smith taught that "all real
marriages were made in heaven before the birth of the parties." He
connected this with the phrase "kindred spirits." If Hall were not so
closely paralleled by Lightner here, I would not cite him. But as
corroborative evidence dovetailing with Lightner he is valuable. Then
I show that the phrase "kindred spirits" is attested in "conservative"
Mormon literature -- first by William Smith in 1845, when he was
Presiding Patriarch, then by Helen Mar Whitney in 1886 (see In
Sacred Loneliness, 640).
either of these places. Certainly William was a problematic leader,
who was excommunicated later in the year. But when William gave
the patriarchal blessing in question, he was a member in good
standing, and was in fact a general authority, the presiding patriarch of
the church.[83] Bachman seems to be following the questionable
policy of ascribing anything he is uncomfortable with to Bennett, even
three years after Bennett had left Nauvoo.
Bachman does not mention or explain Helen Mar Whitney's use of the
phrase "kindred spirits." This is a late reference (1886), but
nevertheless, Helen Mar was a Nauvoo veteran, with a lifetime in the
church, and had been a wife of Joseph Smith. It is extremely unlikely
24
that Bennett could have influenced her. Her use of "kindred spirits"
(explicitly used in reference to a pre- existent linking) strengthens the
case for William Smith's use of the term as normative at the time. And
William Smith and Helen Mar together support William Hall and
Elizabeth Rollins Lightner.
and watches over thee. Thou hast chosen him you loved in the spirit
world to be thy companion. Now, crowns, thrones, exaltations and
dominions are in reserve for thee in the eternal worlds . . . That when
mortality is laid in the tomb, you may go down to your grave in peace,
arise in glory, and receive your everlasting reward in the resurrection
of the just, along with thy Head and husband. Thou will be permitted to
pass by the Gods and angels who guard the gates, and onward, upward
to thy exaltation in a celestial world among the Gods. To be a Priestess
Queen unto thy Heavenly Father, and a glory to thy husband and
offspring, to bear the souls of men, to people other worlds, (as thou
didst bear their tabernacles in mortality,) while eternity goes and
eternity comes . . .
The idea that certain spirits were linked/sealed in the pre-existence, far
from being a doctrine known only to anti-Mormons Bennett and Hall,
almost became a commonplace in Mormon thought (as the Helen Mar
Whitney reference shows). Arrington and Bitton discuss the doctrine
in Mormon Experience.[84] Once again, Bachman does not mention
this reference, which I cited at In Sacred Loneliness, 640.
Arrington and Bitton cite another quite early sympathetic source, John
Taylor, "The Origin and Destiny of Women," in The Mormon (Aug.
29, 1857), a very interesting passage which I did not treat in In Sacred
Loneliness, but probably should have. I will discuss it briefly here:
This passage has many points that deserve comment, including a
strong "guardian angel" teaching. In the section that is of most interest
in the present context, the premortal spirit arranges exactly and
precisely her most important relationships in the next life: guardian
angel, parents, husband, children. These were formal arrangements:
"thou made a covenant with"; "All these were arranged."
An LDS woman asked John Taylor questions on her origin and
destiny.
In the passage about the husband -- "You also choose [chose] a kindred
spirit whom you loved in the spirit world, (and had permission to come
to this planet and take a tabernacle,) to be your head, stay, husband,
and protector on the earth, and to exalt you in the eternal worlds." -- the
crucial phrase, "kindred spirit," shows up prominently again, and is
repeated over and over. We also have the emotional bond ("whom you
loved") in the pre-existence, as well as the formal, ritualized
connection, arrangement, covenant. John Taylor, of course, was part of
the inner polygamy circle in Nauvoo. 1857 is only thirteen years after
Joseph Smith's death.
"Lady -- whence comest thou? . . . "Knowest thou not that eternities
ago, thy spirit, pure and holy, dwelt in thy Heavenly Father's bosom,
and in his presence, and with thy mother, one of the Queens of heaven,
surrounded by thy brother and sister spir[i]ts in the spirit world, among
the Gods. That as thy spirit beheld the scenes transpiring there, and
thou growing in intelligence, thou sawest worlds upon worlds
organized and peopled with thy kindred spirits, took upon them
tabernacles, died, were resurrected, and received their exalt[at]ion on
the redeemed worlds they once dwelt upon. Thou being willing and
anxious to imitate them, waiting and desirous to obtain a body, a
resurrection and exaltation also, and having obtained permission, thou
made a covenant with one of thy kindred spirits to be thy guardian
angel while in mortality, also with two others, male and female spirits,
that thou wouldst come and take a tabernacle through their lineage,
and become one of their offspring. You also choose [chose] a kindred
spirit whom you loved in the spirit world, (and had permission to come
to this planet and take a tabernacle,) to be your head, stay, husband,
and protector on the earth, and to exalt you in the eternal worlds. All
these were arranged, likewise the spirits that should tabernacle through
your lineage. Thou longed, thou sighed, and thou prayed to thy Father
in heaven for the time to arrive when thou couldst come to this earth,
which had fled and fell from where it was first organized, near the
planet Kolob. Leave thy father and mother's bosoms, and all thy
kindred spirits, come to earth, take a tabernacle, and imitate the deeds
of those you had seen exalted before you.
Bachman writes that "it appears that the doctrine of 'kindred spirits' is
Hall's." (p. 129.) This idea clearly must be rejected. In his haste to
portray me as relying primarily on anti-Mormon sources, he did not
follow the path of evidence in sympathetic sources.
Finally, Bachman considers the use of the terminology "spiritual wife"
or "spiritual marriage" in relation to Nauvoo polygamy. This is an
interesting discussion, including many valuable pieces of evidence,
but it does not really support Bachman's main argument. The logical
thread is hard to follow, but it appears to be: Compton believes Joseph
Smith had a concept of "spiritual wives." He equates this with the
non-Mormon "spiritual wife" doctrine as described in Dixon's 1868
book Spiritual Wives. However, Bachman argues that Compton made
a major miscalculation, because the "spiritual wife" doctrine in
Nauvoo came from Bennett and Joseph Jackson. Bachman asserts that
Compton has "taken the bait" of Bennett and Jackson -- which implies
that Compton is a something of a disciple of John C. Bennett. By
association, this implies that Compton is something of an amoral
atheist.
At length the time arrived, and thou heard the voice of thy Father,
saying, "go daughter to yonder lower world, and take upon thee a
tabernacle . . . Daughter, go, and be faithful in your second estate, keep
it as faithful as thou hast, thy first estate.["]
This argument is flawed from many angles. As far as how I feel about
being characterized, however loosely, as a disciple of
Bennett -- obviously, this insinuation is so wildly extremist that it
undercuts itself completely.[85] In fact, I view Bennett negatively.
However, he is a historical source that must be looked at, though with a
great deal of caution.
Thy spirit filled with joy and thanksgiving rejoiced in thy Father . . .
Thou bade father, mother, and all, farewell and along with thy
guardian angel, thou came on this terraqueous globe. [(]The spirits
thou had chosen to come and tabernacle through their lineage, and
your Head having left the spirit world some years previous.) Thou
came a spirit pure and holy, thou hast taken upon thee a tabernacle,
thou hast obeyed the truth, and thy guardian angel ministers unto thee
This argument is also strange because Bennett, to my knowledge,
never really tackled the issue of Mormon polyandry. The main things I
used from him were his short list of wives and his account of Marinda
Hyde's involvement in the proposal of marriage to Nancy Rigdon, both
of which are plentifully paralleled in sympathetic sources. I don't know
where in my book Bachman can point to my referring to Bennett in
relation to polyandry. I do not remember making any major point
relating to the term "spiritual wives" in relation to Mormon polyandry.
I looked through my notes for the polyandry section of my prologue
(639-41), but found no reference to Bennett. "Buckeye's Lament,"
which Bachman quoted in his thesis, does refer to "spiritual marriage"
(In Sacred Loneliness, 22), but I did not comment on the term at all.
William Hepworth Dixon's book, Spiritual Wives, obviously refers to
spiritual wives, but again, I do not comment on the term. (In Sacred
25
Loneliness, 20-21.)
"Pseudo-Polyandry: Explaining Mormon Polygyny's Paradoxical
Companion," that one of the purposes of Joseph Smith's polygamy was
"to establish on earth marriage covenants which were entered into by
men and women before they were born."[88] Bachman, strangely
enough, vehemently attacks this section of my prologue when
conservative scholars have made the same argument and drawn the
same conclusion.
So Bachman's theory that I took Bennett's term "spiritual marriage"
then used it to make the jump to wider, non-Mormon "spiritual
marriage" is flatly wrong. First of all, I never even mentioned
Bennett's use of the term "spiritual marriage." It is unfortunate that
Bachman made such a vehement critique here with so little evidence
for his case.
Bachman asserts that I also took the "bait" of anti-Mormon Joseph
Jackson with regard to the term "spiritual wife." He quotes a very
interesting passage from Jackson in this connection. (p. 131.)
However, I did not even consider this quote in my book, to the best of
my recollection. In fact, on page 634, I refer to Jackson as "perhaps the
worst of the sensationalists" not exactly the glowing adulation of a
disciple who has taken Jackson's "bait." If I did not even quote Jackson
in this connection, it is absurd to portray me as his disciple.
Accusations of Editing Out Non-Tragic Elements of Women's Lives
One of Bachman's odd criticisms of In Sacred Loneliness is that I
intentionally made these women's lives more tragic than they really
were, that I edited anything positive out of their lives. E.g., p. 116:
"Although I am not in a position to contradict the thesis because I have
not researched the lives of these women, I nonetheless have the
impression that the harsh and painful side of their lives was
intentionally emphasized." Again, on p. 137: "His nearly exclusive
emphasis on the harsh and difficult lives he portrays raises the question
as to whether he has allowed his bias to filter out contrary positive
evidence."
To sum up, I did not make any argument based on the term "spiritual
wife" in my prologue; that term is entirely incidental to my argument.
So any statement that I took the "bait" of Bennett and Jackson is
unfortunate, to say the least.
Obviously, I did not do this. I suppose you could say that I did
highlight dramatic moments, as all biographers do, and that dramatic
moments often result from conflict and tragedy. Another factor is that
these women's lives were often very difficult because they lost more
children than women do today. Another factor was their health care
level, which was so primitive, compared to ours. Another factor was
the persecution history of Mormons before they came to Utah. Another
factor was the pioneering life itself. Polygamy was another significant
factor, and since the book is about polygamy, I look carefully at
evidence relating to polygamy.
However, Bachman is also wrong on another important point. There is
good evidence that mainstream Mormons in Nauvoo did use the term
"spiritual wife" to refer to polygamy. Helen Mar Whitney, who
certainly knew Nauvoo polygamy first-hand, wrote, "At the time [in
Nauvoo] spiritual wife was the title by which every woman who
entered into this order was called, for it was taught and practiced as a
spiritual order." (Quoted in In Sacred Loneliness, 632.) Helen Mar
here makes a very general statement ("every woman") and provides a
rationale for the term. Emily Partridge Young referred to a "spiritual
child." In 1855, Heber C. Kimball referred to the "spiritual wife
doctrine the Patriarchal Order, which is of God."[86] On June 12,
1844, Joseph Fielding (the brother of Mary Fielding, who married
Hyrum Smith and was the mother of Joseph Fielding Smith) wrote in
his journal: “I often preach to my Wife and endeavor to inspire her
with Faith her Mind has been troubled at some things in the Church the
Subject of Spiritual Wives[n. 49] so much talked [about] at this time.”
The modern editor of the journal, Andrew Ehat, in his note 49, writes,
“Here Joseph Fielding speaks of the term ‘Spiritual Wives’ in a
positive sense as used in Times and Seasons 5 (15 November 1844):
715, rather than in the usual negative sense.”[86a]
Nevertheless, Bachman's suggestion that I have edited out anything
positive in my book leaves me perplexed. There is an enormous
amount of "positive" material in my book. A quick, random culling of
my subheadings, which summarize the following sections, will show
this. I did not avoid striking "tragic" phrases in selecting subheadings,
but I was very open to positive phrases. Many headings were simply
neutral ("Salt Lake City"); ("Heber C. Kimball").
Some examples of positive headings:
"The Lord Heard Her Supplication," referring to a spiritual experience
connected with polygamy. From the same chapter, Louisa Beaman: "O
How Precious Is a Sisters Kindness."
Thus, in the opinion of conservative scholar, Andrew Ehat, orthodox
Mormons used the term “Spiritual Wives” positively at time,
negatively at times. It was not simply a term used by John C. Bennett.
Fielding is writing long after Bennett left Nauvoo, and while Joseph
Smith was alive. Further, two of Fielding's sisters had married Hyrum
Smith, so he certainly knew about polygamy.
"But They Were Not Alone," referring to a spiritual experience
recorded by Elvira Cowles. "Kind Wife and Affectionate Mother."
"Never So Happy" "I Drank of the Pure Water" from the Rhoda
Richards chapter.
So even on this issue, Mormon polygamy was not a world apart from
the "spiritual wife" movement in America, as Anderson and Faulring
and Bachman tend to portray it.[87]
If I was slanted toward extreme negativity, would I have included a
heading like this: "My Faith Encreased in This Church"? (Desdemona
Fullmer chapter)
Finally, other respected historians of polygamy have also followed my
argument on the linking of pre-existence and Joseph Smith's marriages
to married women. For instance, Andrew Ehat wrote in his talk,
"It Is a Grand School," in a section in which I quote positive things
Lucy Walker said about polygamy.
"Heaven and Angels Not Very Far Off" (Helen Mar Kimball refers to
her mother singing).
persecutions.
"She Donated Every Dollar She Earned," refers to Ruth Vose's
donation of money to the Kirtland Temple.
Here's one heading that shows I had a biographer's eye for the
dramatic: "Shootout on the Colorado."
"She Saw Her Body as It Lay," refers to a spiritual experience that
Martha McBride had.
Two headings from Emily Partridge reflect Missouri experiences: "All
Seemed So Strange," and "Stars as Thick as Snowflakes." The latter
poetic phrase reflects a spiritual experience Emily had in the midst of
In the Sarah Ann Whitney chapter, here are two headings: "Cloud of
26
Glory," and "A Halo of Light Encircled Us," referring to spiritual
experiences the Whitney family had. Between them, "Just Barely Able
to Crawl Around," refers to a period of sickness in Nauvoo.
children. Though the paragraph also reflects problems the children
were dealing with, the positive elements are certainly there.
Other women did not have such overwhelmingly tragic lives as the
Partridges and Helen Mar. I think of Elvira Cowles Holmes, for
instance. And incidentally, I went out of my way in that chapter to
portray the positive experience in polygamy that her three daughters
had. I could have very easily left their stories out of my Elvira chapter,
especially after Elvira died.
Here is a touch of humor: "Lost in Central Utah." Notice how positive
this whole page, referring to Eliza R. Snow's administration as Relief
Society President, is. (p. 336) Also in Eliza's chapter: "The Glory of
God on the Prairie." The whole Eliza chapter is quite free from
tragedy, yet I give her life a substantial treatment. Of course, the life
and writings of Eliza Snow, one of the least tragic and problematic
wives, was the catalyst for my book.
Speculation in Historical Writing
Bachman, and to a lesser extent, Anderson and Faulring, accuse me of
being so speculative in my writing that my book has speculation and
little else. Bachman repeats a sarcastic comment by a BYU friend that
if the "probability and possibility" words probably, perhaps, may have,
might have, must have, undoubtedly, apparent and apparently, seems
likely, were taken out of my book, it would be a pamphlet. (p. 108.)
The last heading in my book, "Let the First Thing You Say Be
'Hallelujah!'" refers to a positive, non-naturalistic view of death.
Once again, I am not saying that all my headings were bright and
cheery. But there is a balance. Bachman's implication that I have
malevolently edited out all positive material in these lives is incorrect.
Bachman is clearly uncomfortable with the tragedy in these lives (as if
all Mormons' lives should be saccharine sweet, untouched by shadows
or serious problems), but I believe that often these women's spirituality
was shown most powerfully when they were facing experiences that
they found incomprehensibly painful. Bachman's hinting that a good
Latter-day Saint historian should edit out the tragic from a woman's
own record would produce a sentimental, even dishonest, kind of
history. It even seems to brand these woman as somehow to blame for
their tragic lives, and is deeply unsympathetic to what these women
endured.
However, he does assert that some speculation language (using the
kinds of words his BYU colleague has criticized) can be a valid part of
historical writing. So the argument is not simply that I am speculative,
but that I am speculative too much. After reading Bachman's treatment
here, a friend who had read my book told me that Bachman left the
impression that there was no evidence or authentic historical research
reflected in my book, but that it was entirely wild speculation and
invention.
But if Bachman asserts that some speculation is acceptable, even
needed, and that too much speculation is the sign of shoddy history, he
does not give us any guidance on exactly how much speculation is
allowable, or desirable. How do you define how much "probability
language" is acceptable? Bachman gives us no help here. Having
labeled my book as based on speculation rather than evidence, he has
accomplished his purpose, and moves on.
There were some women whose lives seemed on the balance more
tragic than positive. I think of Louisa Beaman, the Partridge sisters,
Helen Mar Kimball. Nevertheless, no life is entirely tragic, just as no
life is entirely rosy, so fair-minded readers will find "positive"
elements in these chapters, just as I found positive elements in the
documents that allowed me to reconstruct their lives. For Helen Mar, I
think of how happy she was after her marriage to Horace Whitney,
when they were crossing Iowa, In Sacred Loneliness, 506, especially
the end of the quote at the top of the page. Earlier, I discussed her
idyllic childhood and how intensely she loved her parents (487-90). By
the way, some see Heber unsympathetically, and he certainly was not a
perfect human being, but this part of the chapter shows my respect for
Heber, his humor, his love for his children. Stanley Kimball says that
much that we love in J. Golden Kimball -- his humor, his
earthiness -- came from his father.
To consider the question of how much "speculative" language is
acceptable, I turned to a biography I happened to be reading recently
after a visit to Mount Vernon, John E. Ferling, The First of Men: A
Life of George Washington,[89] regarded by many as the leading
biography of Washington, and I made a cursory search for
"speculative" language. I bold these examples of "speculative" or
obviously "interpretive" language for convenience:
"Washington seemed even less eager to spend time with his mother
than he was to attend church. A domineering woman, she must have
nagged at her son when they were together." [Later in the same
paragraph:] "He apparently did not invite her to stay at Mount
Vernon." (p. 76)
Later in Helen Mar's life, many of her children died, including one son
by apparent suicide. Naturally, these were intense, traumatic
experiences for Helen, and a biographer would be irresponsible if he or
she did not reflect them adequately. Nevertheless, I also reflected how
proud she was of her children in her later life, and their real successes.
See my account of Orson's development into a young man (In Sacred
Loneliness, 519). One of many happy social gatherings I describe in
my pages is the "surprise" on Helen (p. 525). Another paragraph on p.
532, first full paragraph, describes positive achievements of her
In another sequence of paragraphs, Ferling writes: "Washington had
never met the venerated Franklin. They apparently got on well enough,
but the old sage, not unlike Washington, was surprisingly reserved,
and the two men must have found their attempts at light conversation
to be awkward. The commander had only a passing acquaintance with
Lynch, having met him when they both served in Congress. But he
must have been delighted at the sight of Harrison, not only a friend, but
a Virginian who had just returned from a vacation in that province."
(pp. 133-34)
So we might ask whether this is a bad paragraph because it has an
abundance of speculative words in it. Or was the clustering of
"probability" language appropriate for the particular subject
addressed?
an attack, the notion of civilians four hundred miles removed from
Boston dictating strategy to the army had to be galling." Then there is a
very colored, interpretive word at the end of this same paragraph:
"Their bluff called, the congressmen backed off, and during the final
five days of the conference they obsequiously accepted almost every
urgent request made by General Washington." Compare the word
"domineering," a judgment word, used previously. Again we must ask,
are these passages overrun with speculation evidence that Ferling is a
bad scholar?
In the next paragraph: "General Washington must have blanched at the
first directive. [Pay of officers must be reduced, according to a
congressional committee.] Whatever his feelings about the wisdom of
Bachman himself frequently uses "probability language." On p. 133
(again, I bold for convenience): "He [Compton] too may have been
persuaded by doctrines such as those of kindred spirits, free love, and
27
spiritual wifery. In 1845 William was probably theologically closer to
John C. Bennett than Joseph Smith in his thinking and acting in
relationship to plural marriage."[90] And again, on p. 127, Bachman
writes, "Apparently he believes that the four sources cited establish the
relationship." Again on p. 131, "It appears that Compton has taken the
bait." On p. 129, "It appears that the doctrine of 'kindred spirits' is
Hall's."[91] We can ask again whether these are bad paragraphs due to
the clustering of probability language.
happened. However, three more facts may arise that put a different
light on the circumstances, and the historian may either change his
mind completely, or at least continue his previous reconstruction of the
past with modifications. Sometimes a historian's extreme, irrational
bias can produce consistent illogical jumps that do violence to the
evidence. Arguments of white supremacists, arguing that Jesus was
not a Jew for instance, present good examples of this.
My main point here is that all history is interpretive and speculative,
though the best history works from evidence collected and adduced as
skillfully and honestly as possible. Any attempt to portray my book as
speculation only, not based on authentic evidence (Bachman refers to
my writing as "pure fantasy" at one point, p. 133, as if I were not using
evidence at all), is obviously ludicrous. I constantly refer to primary
evidence, diaries, autobiographies, letters, early church periodicals,
newspaper accounts, genealogical information. These are quoted
virtually everywhere in my book, but the concentrated, technical
references to sources are in 623-771, about a hundred and fifty pages
of bibliographical references and citations. I have always done
everything possible to find the most primary evidence on a subject,
then to weigh pieces of evidence judiciously, trying to work in the
highly charged emotional battleground of religious history. As early as
my Fawn Brodie article, I was concerned with the challenge of
interpreting evidence in Mormon history, and critiqued Brodie for
relying too much on secondhand, printed, anti-Mormon sources.[92]
My answer to the above questions, of course, is that Bachman and
Ferling are not bad scholars because they used probability language,
and those are not bad paragraphs, merely because they contain
probability language.
Here is how I view this issue. Many non-historians have the point of
view that a historian merely "reproduces the facts." This is a basic
misapprehension about history. Even a historian's reproduction of
facts reveals his or her point of view, as he or she selects which facts,
out of an infinite number of facts, he or she will refer to or quote. What
every historian does is select and present evidence, much of which is
fairly undisputed (though, as I mentioned above, no evidence is
perfect), then he or she draws interpretive conclusions from the
evidence. All historians do this. It is the essence of their job. They are
not merely reprinting phone books or statistical facts. All historians
have a point of view, opinions, predisposition (though, as in my case,
their exposure to evidence will cause them to develop and revise
opinions). So Bachman, Anderson and Faulring's branding me as
"speculative" is odd; they are in essence saying, if you do not have
exactly their biases, you are "biased." Bachman critiques me for
having "opinion" (p. 136) -- as if he does not have strong opinions
himself. Good historians' opinions are certainly guided by factual
evidence, and they make an honest effort to not let their biases shape
their view of evidence, but opinion and individual perspective are
always there. Probability language is closely aligned with interpretive
history.
So any responsible, real history will have a great deal of interpretation,
which by definition deals with speculation and probability, though it
will be based on evidence.
Is there such a thing as too much speculation? For instance, do the
paragraphs by Ferling above have too much speculation packed into a
small space? I don't know. In my view, you can have too much
speculation based on too few facts (or on no facts). But note that
Ferling is not simply spinning a tale; he is arguing for a certain
historical reconstruction from facts, which admittedly he has
marshaled in a certain pattern. He is not arguing from a vacuum. He
allows the reader to see the facts he uses, then he clearly separates
those facts from his conclusions (using "probability language"), but
shows that the conclusions come from the facts.
However, I certainly agree that the speculative, interpretive aspect of
history can fall short of absolute truth. (No historian, of course,
achieves absolute truth.) Interpretation in history can go astray in a
number of ways.
First, an author may make an argument, write an article or book
without sufficient research. If there are six relevant pieces of evidence,
and the author uses only two of them, his or her argument may well be
flawed. I don't think that Anderson and Faulring and Bachman believe
this of me -- in fact they almost criticize me for using too many
sources.
This is an exciting part of history. You look at the facts, and they lead
you to reconstruct a picture beyond what is strictly in the lone pieces of
evidence taken one by one. This is not irresponsible history. This is
what history does. If a historian becomes immersed in the diaries and
autobiographies of the battle of Gettysburg survivors, supported by a
careful mapping of the Gettysburg site, along with archaeological
findings, he can come to see a vision of the battle. And the overall
vision goes far beyond what is found in any one journal or any one
bullet found in a hill.
Second, an author may adduce the facts adequately, then make an
incorrect construction from them. This can be done innocently. An
author collects three facts, then makes a judgment on what probably
Note also that, for readers or historians who have an extremely rosy
view of Washington, they might not be comfortable with Ferling
portraying him treating his mother distantly. So they might accuse
Ferling of biased, negative, speculation. Thus we may ask if Ferling
was attacking Washington vindictively, or whether he felt that the
evidence authentically pointed to a problematic relationship between
Washington and his mother, and Ferling felt he should discuss it,
because it was there. (And because mother-son relationships are
significant.) Was he intent on debunking, or was he merely giving a
balanced portrayal of Washington as an individual who at times had
problematic relationships? (And most or all humans have some
problematic relationships.) It is possible that we have a case where
Ferling felt a personal dislike for Washington, so overemphasized
innocent facts to create an unfairly negative picture. But it is also
possible that Washington has been intensely idealized as the first
American president, and when actual, normal human problems appear
in his life, in the historical record, the historian may responsibly reflect
them without vindictiveness.
Another distinguished book of history, Laurel Thatcher Ulrich's
Pulitzer-Prize-winning A Midwife's Tale, is worth considering as we
discuss "speculation" in history. In this book, the main document is a
diary of midwife Martha Ballard. Ulrich quotes it day by day, then
stops and makes long, imaginative reconstructions of what happened
on those days. Certainly, Ulrich makes educated guesses, based on
voluminous research. But everything in this wonderful book, outside
of the diaries themselves, is reconstruction, speculation -- possible or
probable reconstructions, in fact extremely sophisticated, brilliant
reconstructions, but going well beyond the flat record found in the
diary. So should responsible critics point out that there too much
"speculation" in Ulrich's book? Is it fatally flawed because it is "filled
with speculation"? Or should she have merely printed the diary itself
28
and avoided injecting her personal reconstruction and judgment? Here,
certainly, you could say that without speculative reconstruction, the
book would be a pamphlet.
future research, or even rejected, eventually. But to portray me as a bad
historian because I use interpretive language "too much" I think shows
a basic misunderstanding of what a historian's task is.
My view is that what we should be concerned with is not whether
historians use interpretive "probability language," but whether they are
consistently illogical in their conclusions and are making wild,
irrational fantastic jumps in their possible and probable
reconstructions.
At the risk of beating this issue into the ground, I will briefly look at
two of my uses of "probability language." When Fanny Young Murray
died, I write, "No doubt her passing was mourned by Brigham . . ." I
also argue that Fanny's sister wives and close friends attended her
funeral, and were present when she was buried. I had no direct
evidence, but it seemed reasonable and probable that such was the
case. Brigham Young was her brother. Fanny had lived in the Lion
House with these women. This is not bizarre speculation; it is common
sense.
Let's look at Ferling's "probability language" again: "Washington
seemed even less eager to spend time with his mother than he was to
attend church. A domineering woman, she must have nagged at her
son when they were together." Later in the same paragraph: "He
apparently did not invite her to stay at Mount Vernon."
When Vilate Kimball died, I write that Helen Mar "undoubtedly
tended her as she gradually lost her faculties." (In Sacred Loneliness,
514.) Now, I did not have a shred of evidence documenting Helen at
her mother's bedside. Yet I felt that it was extremely probable that an
only daughter who dearly loved her mother, and who lived a half a
block away from her, would take time tending her mother as she
approached death. I enjoyed visualizing that very probable scene.
Now I will take that "probability language" out: "Washington was
even less eager to spend time with his mother than he was to attend
church. A domineering woman, she [] nagged at her son when they
were together . . . He [] did not invite her to stay at Mount Vernon."
How do we feel about the second paragraph as opposed to the first
paragraph? The tone of the second paragraph is dogmatic. It seems to
assert that the author is using certain evidence. It does not complicate
the picture with "probability language." In contrast, the tone of the first
paragraph is cautious. It asserts that the author is working from
evidence, then making an educated reconstruction of what the
evidence points to. Using the "probability language" actually shows
the author's honesty -- here is my evidence, he or she says, and now
here is my argument from the evidence. Probability language is a
safeguard for intelligent readers. It allows them to quickly assess the
evidence and make a judgment. (If they want to pursue the matter
further, they can go to the original documents and check context for
themselves.)
Is there really anything sinister or wildly speculative about such an
interpretation as this?[94]
Incidentally, a syntactical technique that Bachman uses repeatedly that
is an extreme form of probability language is the rhetorical
question -- for instance, "Did his presuppositions shape the study as he
sought evidence to validate them?" (p. 118.) Such a rhetorical question
shouts "Yes" as an answer with every word. It is ironic that Bachman
would criticize my cautious use of probability language, then
repeatedly use the rhetorical question as a form of speculative
innuendo -- the statement just quoted is based on no facts whatsoever.
Bachman did not know me before I began researching my book; he
knew me at no time during the writing of the book; he met me briefly
after the book was published. Furthermore, as I have mentioned, I had
no strong preconceptions about polygamy before I began researching
my book.
So, at the risk of seeing myself too sympathetically, I propose that my
"probability language" actually reflects my caution and conservatism.
I believe this is where Brodie sometimes got into trouble, when she
expressed her interpretations dogmatically, as if they were absolute
truth, instead of cautiously. (Her friend Dale Morgan criticized her for
this.[93]) Certainly, some of my reconstructions may be modified by
Another critique of Bachman, and Anderson and Faulring, that is odd
is their charge that I take evidence from "disparate" sources. (See
Bachman at 121, "patchwork," 135, "disparate authorities scattered
over decades"; Anderson and Faulring at 69). It is a standard in the
practice of history that any kind of evidence relating to a phenomenon
can be considered, and in fact, should be considered. For instance, if I
have an autobiography of a woman, and she gives her birth date, but
tells us little about her family, it is extremely useful to find primary
genealogical records for her. First, it can confirm her memory of her
birth date (sometimes, surprisingly, people remember their birth date
incorrectly); second, it can give added information on her family
situation when growing up -- whether her parents were middle-aged or
young when she was born, whether she was the oldest child in a large
family, the baby in a large family, or whether she was an only child.
The fact that I have combined two disparate sources strengthens my
portrayal of this woman. What if I refer to a newspaper story that
mentions my subject, and combine that with what she wrote in a diary
on the same day? This will again strengthen my case, give more depth
to the story. The more pieces of evidence that deal with an event, the
better off the historian is. It does not matter in the least if they come
from disparate sources. In fact, disparate sources increase the validity
of the case.
"Disparate Sources"
history. Find two sources and chances are they will disagree on
something. If disparate sources contradict each other, this is still
extremely valuable, because it leads us to try to examine and resolve
the contradiction. (Which can often be done.) The idea that one should
simplify by using only one of those sources is not tenable in any way.
(Unless some other factor leads us to believe that one of the sources is
completely wrong. Even then it is valuable to try to understand how
this warping came about, what forces created it.)[95]
Minor, Ancillary Issues:
George Harris and the Nauvoo Expositor (Bachman)
On pp. 109-110 Bachman takes a whole page to attack my reporting of
George Harris's role in the destruction of the Nauvoo Expositor. He
accuses me of suggesting that the council made a "rash," quick,
decision, when in actuality, Joseph Smith met with the City Council
for seven hours and thirty minutes.
This is one of many examples of Anderson, Faulring and Bachman
attacking very minor, ancillary points in my book. And in fact, I was
not writing an extensive treatment of the Expositor incident. I simply
made a point in passing that Harris, a "first husband," was solidly on
Joseph Smith's side during this crisis. The length of the meeting was
not much of an issue to me. But after reading Bachman I checked to
see if I had implied that the process was hasty and quick. I wrote (I add
Anderson and Faulring criticize me for using sources that are
contradictory (p. 69, "gross contradictions"). However, once again, I
find this criticism hard to understand. This is the common lot of all
29
emphasis): "After a great deal of testimony relating to the alleged
wrongdoings of the Expositor staff, 'Alderman Harris spoke from the
chair, and expressed his feelings that the press ou[gh]t to be
demolished.' The council quickly agreed, passing a resolution . . ." (In
Sacred Loneliness, 51) So I did not suggest that the proceedings were
abbreviated -- there was "a great deal of testimony" in the session
before Harris spoke.
Mormon men were involved with Danites "at the close of Missouri
hostilities." Anderson and Faulring assert that both these are valid, so I
would be justified if I were accepting this second interpretation.
However, they affirm that I take the "oath-bound" theory, then try to
apply it to most Mormon men.
Again, when I read this, I was very puzzled, as I did not know that I
had accepted the "oath-bound" theory. I read through the few passages
in my book mentioning Danitism in Missouri to find out how I could
have given this impression. I could find no references to "oath- bound"
Danites. It was as if Anderson and Faulring were critiquing me for the
mistake they wish I had made.
And as to my main point, there is no doubt that Joseph Smith wanted
the Expositor suppressed, and that George Harris was on his side. This
is not a difficult point. One is left wondering why Bachman would
think it was worthwhile making an issue about this.
The reviewers critique my reference to Vinson Knight as associating
with Danites. Strangely enough, in an earlier draft of this chapter, a
descendant of Martha had objected to my referring to Vinson as a
Danite. I looked at the primary source document, and it definitely said
that he accepted plunder from Danites while Bishop. So, to please this
descendant, instead of writing that Vinson was a Danite, I wrote that
he associated with Danites. To me, that close association shows that he
was connected with them somehow, but just to be cautious I did not
say he was a Danite himself. Anderson and Faulring, apparently
anxious to saddle me with a pan-Danite bias, did not pick up on this
distinction.
Danites (Anderson/Faulring)
A few of the relatives of the women I write about were reputed to be
Danites. I do not emphasize this; it is not central to the theme of my
book (obviously, none of the women I write about were Danites).
However, Anderson and Faulring imply that I have gone out of my
way to find Danites of the most bloodthirsty sort under every bush.
(pp. 93-94.)
On first reading their review, I was puzzled by this charge and once
again wondered what I actually wrote about Danites. I found that the
following men were mentioned as Danites in In Sacred Loneliness,
and usually only in passing: George Washington Harris, Vinson
Knight, Cornelius Lott, Oliver and Dimick Huntington, and Stephen
Winchester. Danitism was simply part of Mormonism in Missouri; it
would be irresponsible to ignore the phenomenon there. The
importance of Danitism in such an important event as the election as
Gallatin shows this.
Finally, when I first referred to Danites in my bibliographical notes, I
did not take an immoderate hard-line "radical" approach, as Anderson
and Faulring would imply. I simply guided the reader to a few
"conservative" (Whittaker, Gentry) and "liberal" (Hill, Quinn) sources
to show there has been a spectrum of interpretation. But the first source
I listed was a conservative source. See In Sacred Loneliness, 651.[96]
Furthermore, when I wrote In Sacred Loneliness, I did not intend to
write a book solving all problems in Mormon history, so I did not read
all the primary and secondary literature related to Danites as I wrote
the book. Over the years I've read some of the literature on Danites,
merely out of interest, but the issue was very, very peripheral for my
book. One striking account of Danitism that I ran across by accident
was Oliver Huntington in his diaries. (See In Sacred Loneliness, 658.)
But I merely wrote, "Both Dimick and Oliver Huntington served as
Danites, and Dimick distinguished himself as a captain of the Danite
guard." This is hardly an extreme emphasis on the subject. It was not a
major issue for the life of Zina Huntington.
High Council (Anderson/Faulring)
Occasionally in In Sacred Loneliness I mention that the central High
Council had much more authority in the early church than in the
church today, and the apostles had less central authority. The apostles
were important leaders, certainly, but in their early years they presided
in the mission field.[97] Even in early Utah, many apostles were sent
away from Salt Lake City to live in and preside over mission field
areas. Joseph Smith, on May 2, 1835, said that the Twelve "will have
no right to go into Zion, or any of its stakes, and there undertake to
regulate the affairs thereof, where there is a standing high council; but
it is their duty to go abroad..." HC 2.220. Later during Joseph's
lifetime, and in Utah, the Council of the Twelve came to have more
central authority.
Anderson and Faulring, after accusing me of misinterpretation of
history by overestimating the Danite membership, assert that there are
two possible methods of Danite interpretation. One is that the Danites
were a limited, oath-bound group. The other is that most loyal
Again, this is not a major theme in my book. I refer to it occasionally in
passing. It is significant for women who were married to or related to
High Councillors, as it shows that their status was higher than a
modern Mormon without historical background would immediately
understand.
Anderson and Faulring's second valid point relates to the fact that on
November 30, 1844 apostles John Taylor and Orson Hyde were
present and very influential at a meeting of the Nauvoo High Council.
On In Sacred Loneliness, 539-40, I stated that Hyde clearly dominated
the council, though he had no formal authority to sit there, as the
apostles had no authority in any stake high council. In the sense that
Hyde acted as an apostle, I was correct; but Anderson and Faulring
note that technically the Twelve became the First Presidency after
August 8, 1844. They are also correct that the First Presidency
presided over the (standing) High Council, and often had participated
in High Council meetings. Therefore I accept their position here, that
Hyde and Taylor had formal authority to attend as members of the
First Presidency. Even accepting this point, it once again shows how
the relative positions of Standing High Council and Traveling High
Council (the Twelve) had changed as a result of that August 8, 1844
meeting. My summary of the event still stands, I think: "The apostles
were on the ascendant in the church, and the high council, even of the
central stake, would gradually become less important."
Anderson and Faulring take three pages, 94-96, to discuss my few
references. They make two points that I think are valid and interesting,
and have caused me to revise my thinking on specific details.
However, they also make one slight misrepresentation of my book, and
misleadingly cite an incomplete quotation that can be better
understood in its entirety.
First, I accept their critique of my statement on In Sacred Loneliness,
254. The relative status of High Council and Apostles was probably
not a factor here. The main point of the paragraph is not changed,
though. All of these women except Elizabeth Durfee were married to
high church leaders as first wives.
30
The slight misrepresentation is in relation to that quote. Anderson and
Faulring sum up their section on Apostles and High Council by stating,
"The executive and financial direction of the Twelve was vigorous
immediately after church approval in early August 1844 [which I
entirely agree with] and by no means developed gradually, as claimed
in the above comments." However, as the reader may easily see, I
stated that the high council decreased gradually; I did not use the term
"gradually" to refer to the Twelve. Nevertheless, I think that the
Twelve's centralized power certainly increased by increments from
1835 to 1844. I am not asserting that this was wrong, or that Joseph
Smith did not support it. I simply think that it is an aspect of church
history that we need to understand.
The Wording of the Plural Marriage Ceremony
This is an interesting subject; once again, I did not make a systematic
study of this issue, but mentioned what there was to know about it (to
be best of my knowledge) in passing. Using the full text of the Temple
Lot transcript, Anderson and Faulring (at p. 87, cf. In Sacred
Loneliness 598) argue that Melissa did not really remember the text of
the plural marriage ceremony. When she stated that it was the standard
Mormon wording as published in the Kirtland Doctrine and
Covenants, in the view of Anderson and Faulring, she was badgered by
the RLDS attorney into agreeing that the Kirtland D&C wording was
used. In reality, Anderson and Faulring suggest, all she really
remembered was that the marriage was for time and eternity.
Anderson and Faulring quote Joseph Smith in 1841 to the effect that
the Twelve should have authority in stakes. However, they abbreviate
the quote significantly: "The time had come when the Twelve should
be called upon to stand in their place next to the First Presidency and
attend to . . . the business of the Church at the stakes."[98] D. Michael
Quinn agrees with Anderson and Faulring that at this point the Twelve
were given some authority in the stakes, which was a significant
change.[99] However, the full quote preserves an important limitation:
"The time had come when the Twelve should be called upon to stand
in their place next to the First Presidency, and attend to the settling of
emigrants and the business of the Church at the stakes and assist to
bear off the kingdom victoriously to the nations . . ." (Emphasis mine.)
Here Joseph Smith does not give the apostles authority to become a
"standing" high council, but instead to do some limited work within
the stakes. The first thing Joseph mentions, and the phrase that
Anderson and Faulring left out, was "the settling of emigrants," a
matter that is logically connected with missionary work. Anderson and
Faulring probably would have been better served to reproduce the full
quotation here. In addition, the purpose of the meeting was limited to
local business related to missionary work: "to select men of experience
to send forth into the vineyard, take measures to assist emigrants who
may arrive at the places of gathering, and prevent impositions being
practiced upon them by unprincipled speculators." Brigham Young,
the president of the conference and first speaker, stated that "nothing
could be further from his wishes, and those of his quorum, than to
interfere with Church affairs in Zion and her stakes." This is clearly far
from the centralized modern Mormon apostles who in fact travel to the
stakes to select stake presidents. Brigham continued, "He had been in
the vineyard so long, he had become attached to foreign missions . .
."[100] Nevertheless, I agree that this passage shows a step toward the
Twelve's eventual centralized role.
This may be some truth to this, and Anderson and Faulring are correct
in taking into account the dynamics of Melissa's full testimony. They
are making a valuable point here. Though Melissa said, "That is as I
understand it as nearly as I can remember," after the RLDS Kelley read
the D&C marriage ceremony, at other times she seems to flatly deny
that those words were used! But while my treatment did not reflect
adequately the contradictory nature of her testimony, and I am grateful
to Anderson and Faulring for alerting me to the complexities,
Anderson and Faulring also oversimplify the issue. Melissa's
testimony is all over the map. On the statement that Anderson and
Faulring take as certain -- that the marriage was for time and
eternity -- Melissa also seems somewhat contradictory. "Q. Well what
ceremony was used on that occasion? A;-It was that I was married to
him for time and all eternity." (line 56.) So far so good. In line 119, she
says with certainty, "Yes sir. For time and eternity Q:-Was that in the
ceremony? A;-Yes sir." Then line 122, "Well was that [time and
eternity] in the ceremony, - that is the question? A;-Yes sir it was."
Again, certainty. But then suddenly she is not sure: "Well now I
couldn't say that it was . . ." Then she continues with less than
certainty: "but I think it was".
This interpretation would be consistent with the parallels with the
D&C marriage wording and the Sarah Ann Whitney plural marriage
ceremony. This brings us to an important portion of my argument that
Anderson and Faulring strangely simply ignore. I wrote, "Similarities
to the Sarah Whitney vows make this version appear reliable." (In
Sacred Loneliness, 598.) In fact, the structure of the Kirtland D&C
marriage language is found in the Sarah Whitney vows. So even in this
small passing reference, despite their very worthwhile reference to the
full Temple Lot testimony of Melissa Willes, Anderson and Faulring
do not come to grips with my argument and evidence.
wondered if I was interpreting it incorrectly, so I looked it up in a
standard dictionary, Webster's II New College Dictionary (Boston:
Houghton Mifflin Company, 1995): "naturalism . . . 2. Philos. The
system of thought holding that all phenomena can be explained in
terms of natural causes and laws without attributing supernatural
significance to them. 3. The doctrine that all religious truths are
derived from nature and natural causes and not from revelation." Note:
"all phenomena," "all religious truths," and the total rejection of the
supernatural and revelation. The essence of naturalism is complete
disbelief in God, or in any kind of supernatural phenomena.
Naturalism and supernaturalism (including theism of any sort) are
opposites. So in a strict sense, there is no such thing as a mixture of
naturalism and belief in God. Someone who holds naturalistic
positions is a complete atheist -- not even an agnostic of some sort.
Melissa is equally ambiguous about the D&C marriage wording. You
could collect statements in favor of her remembering some form of the
D&C wording, and array them against statements against the use of the
D&C wording. After re-reading Melissa's full testimony on this issue,
my feeling is that it may reflect that she remembered that some form of
the D&C wording was used, though as she reasonably states, she did
not make a transcript as the ceremony was taking place, and so could
not testify as to the exact words used, especially after so many years.
But since the D&C marriage ceremony would have been very familiar
to her, she might have recognized it in some form. But she also
remembered a time and eternity component to the ceremony.
Typecasting as "Naturalistic"
Anderson and Faulring assert that I hold naturalistic positions. (p. 92)
This pronouncement is highlighted and publicized by a bolded section
heading. Bachman also states categorically that I hold naturalistic
positions -- this characterization is found in his concluding paragraphs,
which again highlights and publicizes the assertion. (pp. 136-37.)
When I first read these statements, I was very puzzled, as I would
never associate myself with that term "naturalism" as I understood it
(meaning a rejection of God; an antonym for supernaturalism). I
Anderson, Faulring and Bachman had clear evidence before them that
I was not an atheist (they quote my statement of belief in God and the
supernatural, In Sacred Loneliness629, on pp. 70 and 108), so it is not
easy to understand why they made this assertion, and emphasized it so
strongly. Strangely enough, both reviews mention my statement of
belief only in order to comment negatively on it. Anderson and
31
Faulring state that I "apply" it to a "campaign" against polygamy.
Though their logic is not entirely clear to me, the strange idea is that I
would "use" a testimony for negative purposes. Bachman refers to my
statement of belief sarcastically, then angrily objects to it in a footnote
in which he misquotes it. It is as if a person delivered his testimony in a
Fast and Testimony Meeting, and the next two speakers quickly rose to
tear it down.
narratives in the usual meaning of those terms. Still, these narratives
[history written by New Mormon Historians] -- grounded in the
humane tradition and the human studies -- interpret both religious and
temporal experiences, and address questions raised by people in our
time and culture."[102]
Since the publication of his review of my book, Mr. Bachman has
stated to me that he does not consider me an atheist, and that I was
misinterpreting his use of the word naturalistic. However, as I clearly
show above, the dictionary definition of the word naturalistic, within
the context of religion and philosophy, is rejection of God and the
supernatural. If authors use a private, idiosyncratic definition of a
word, it is their duty to plainly state that they are using the word in a
non-standard way. Mr. Bachman did not do this. And illogically, he
continues to stand by his nonfactual characterization of me as having
naturalistic perspectives.
The irony of my statement on p. 629 is that I felt, in all honesty, that
non-Mormon, secular readers had the right to know my religious
biases, my acceptance of the supernatural. I did not expect that fellow
Mormons would have quoted the statement as evidence against by
belief.
There has been a controversy in Mormon history on the subject of
"naturalism" -- some critics of the "New Mormon history" have
asserted that such history is in essence dependent on naturalistic
(atheist) underpinnings, and written by persons who may be
perfunctory members of the church, but who are in reality writing from
an essentially naturalistic, positivist (atheist) perspective borrowed
from non-Mormon historical influences.[101]
At best, these three reviewers' use of the term "naturalistic" to
characterize me is sloppy and unfortunate, showing that they did not
do the basic homework of looking up a highly loaded word before
using it. One hopes that such ad hominem sloppiness does not become
the hallmark of the kind of scholarly dialogue found in FARMS, BYU
and the Church Educational System.[103]
"New" Mormon historians typically combine a belief in God with
interest in subjects considered secular. For instance, Leonard
Arrington's Great Basin Kingdom looks at Mormon history from an
economic perspective. Critics of the New Mormon History might
argue that this is a naturalistic approach; Arrington himself would see
his faith in God and his interest in economics as complementary. For
him, God and economics were not competing explanations for
Mormon history. The fact that an economic analysis answered many
questions about Mormon history does not deny the supernatural, or
that divine law might be found in economic forces.
One reader has written recently, mentioning that Leonard J. Arrington
has sometimes referred to "human or naturalistic" analysis as a
necessary component of the New Mormon history, without the New
Mormon history (Arrington continues) denying in any way the belief
in the divinity of the LDS church. (See, e.g., Arrington's "Scholarly
Studies of Mormonism in the Twentieth Century," Dialogue 1 (Spring
1966), 15-32, 28.) However, Arrington uses this term in a much
different context that do Anderson, Faulring and Bachman.
Actually, there is in Mormonism a strong tradition that everything is
part of the gospel. We remember Brigham Young's admonition to Karl
Maeser to teach the multiplication tables by the spirit of God.
Economics are an important theme in the New Testament, the Book of
Mormon and the Doctrine and Covenants. We remember Brigham
Young's admonitions to study all disciplines, history, politics, science.
Alexander addresses this issue: "[I]n the most profound sense, the New
Mormon Historians recognize no sacred-secular dichotomy and thus
they melt the barrier between the two categories. . . . In short, the New
Mormon History has not produced secular or naturalistic historical
Second, Arrington is referring to himself, his own kind of history, the
kind of history he approves of. He is not referring to another person,
another individual, in a negative context. (And obviously, Anderson,
Faulring and Bachman were not using their "naturalistic" language in a
positive context.)
First, Arrington clearly is using "naturalistic" to describe a part of a
whole. He emphasizes that the other part of the whole, and the most
important part, is his belief in God. This "human or naturalistic"
analysis does not conflict with an underlying belief in God. When
Anderson, Faulring and Bachman used the term, they did not describe
a part of a whole. They were not making a nuanced use of the term,
emphasizing (or even mentioning) my overarching theism. They
simply threw out a loaded term without qualification.
"naturalistic" breaks down if the term wasn't intended to mean
"rejection of God and the supernatural."
Since writing the above, I have casually checked other dictionaries on
the meaning of the word "naturalism." Here is the definition offered by
the new Microsoft Encarta College Dictionary (N.Y.: St. Martins
Press, 2001): 2 . . . a belief that all religious truth is derived from nature
and natural causes, and not from revelation 3 . . . a system of thought
that rejects all spiritual and supernatural explanations of the world and
holds that science is the sole basis of what can be known." Again,
naturalism is a complete rejection of the supernatural and revelation:
"all", "all," science as "sole basis." My view of God and science is
simple: science and the study of nature is part of God's infinitely
beautiful creation and learning about science is a way of discovering
how God works, his laws. There is no conflict between the gospel and
science, or between the gospel and the scientific process. Certainly, no
scientist has complete and absolute truth; but no mortal man possesses
complete and absolute truth. Religionists and scientists need to work
together constructively, without demonizing each other.
The abovementioned reader argued that I was misinterpreting the word
"naturalistic," that it meant something entirely other than "atheist." He
agreed that the dictionary definition of the word was atheist, someone
who totally rejects God and the supernatural, but thought that that was
not necessarily what the term really meant. However, I don't think that
readers of FARMS Review of Books will look up the definition of
naturalism in a dictionary of philosophy when they read those reviews.
Instead, they will turn to a standard dictionary. (And the one I
happened to turn to, Webster's, is a standard, mainstream dictionary. I
didn't seek out a dictionary with a peculiar definition of naturalism.) At
the very least, Anderson, Faulring and Bachman should have known
that one basic meaning of the term naturalism is a rejection of God and
the supernatural, and that if they used the term to mean something
other than that, they should make it very clear that they were not using
it in that basic, most obvious sense.
Conservative / Moderate / Liberal / Radical: "Middle" Views of
Revelation
I think it is possible that these reviewers' willingness to typecast me as
holding "naturalistic" (atheist) positions may once again be a result of
However, unfortunately, in my view, the argumentation of those
passages where Anderson, Faulring and Bachman use the term
32
their unwillingness to accept a moderate religious position in
Mormonism.
books entirely different atmospheres. The contrast in world-view
between the stories of Abraham in Genesis and the Hellenistic
background of Paul is unmistakable and striking. Some inspired
authors disagreed with each other, indeed had major conflicts (e.g.,
Peter and Paul in Galatians 2, one thinks also of the books written by
Paul and James, with their contrasting views on works). Some
prophets had dramatically different methods of operating. There are
stark contradictions in the four Gospel accounts, as we would expect in
any historical documents. Then there are problems in textual
transmission, after the Bible was written and collected. All ancient
manuscripts of the Bible disagree with each other. We can assess
differing readings of specific words and phrases only on the basis of
probability, not with certainty. The Bible is undoubtedly not inerrant;
but its inspiration co-exists with its errancy. It is the same with any
religious phenomenon. The extreme conservative idea that a prophet is
not influenced in any significant way by his environment will also be
rejected by thoughtful believers. It is absurd to try to study prophetic
writers outside of their environments, for they were interacting with
their environment throughout their lives. So Richard Lloyd Anderson's
excellent book on Paul gives us a great deal of insight into Paul's
culture, which in turn gives us insight into his writings. Understanding
Paul's cultural background -- his training as a Pharisee, his Hellenistic
education -- helps us understand what part of his thought was inspired,
unique. It also shows what part of his thought was inspired and derived
from pre-existing influences, such as the Old Testament scriptures,
and the just- crystallizing oral traditions about the teaching of Jesus.
And it also shows what part of his thought was human, time bound,
culture bound (one thinks of his emphatic ban against women speaking
in church, obviously not an eternal principle).
It may be worthwhile to outline another far-right, moderate, far-left,
schema here. First of all, far to the left is naturalism as defined by
Webster's -- the belief that all religious phenomena are caused by
natural forces, a radical rejection of any supernatural, divine influence
at all. This is, of course, atheism. Far to the right would be the view of
religious phenomena as completely the result of supernatural
intervention, with no shred of human synthesis in any way, either from
the prophet's mind or from the culture he is part of.
I propose that there is a tenable middle ground between these two
extremes, just as in the evolution question (see above). Actually, there
are many possible middle grounds. First, God will use the personality
of the prophet when giving revelation. Thus, an analysis of a prophet's
personality, psychology and character is not by definition atheistic.
Second, God can use the prophet's culture to influence him. The
prophet interrelates with it. True, he will react firmly against some
aspects of it; but he will be nurtured by other aspects of it. Richard
Bushman's Joseph Smith and the Origins of Mormonism reflects
Joseph Smith's early preoccupation with scrying and treasure
seeking -- but it shows how some aspects of the phenomenon worked
toward Joseph's "gift of seeing" while other aspects of it worked
against his prophetic mission.
In fact, I suggest that any apologetic that attempts to defend the
far-right position -- no human or social intermixture at all in religious
phenomena -- will be doomed to failure for all observant, thoughtful
persons. One example of this from another religion is the Protestant
doctrine of the Bible as inerrant. A wealth of evidence argues against
this, if you read the Bible seriously. Some thirty-seven different
authors wrote the books of the Bible (give or take a few), and their
personalities are clearly imprinted on their books, even when they are
speaking with inspiration. Moreover, their differing cultures give their
Here are some possible synthesizing positions that are worth
considering when considering the subject of revelation and
environment: (1) A prophet can be deeply impressed by something in
his environment. This can act as a catalyst; he can ask God about the
issue and receive revelation. But there is no reason to say that God did
not prepare the catalyst also. (2) God can prepare something in a
prophet's environment as "raw material" for his prophetic expression
and vision. For instance, the phrases of the King James Bible were
used by Joseph Smith when he received his revelations. The King
James predated Joseph Smith; he was familiar with it. He used it in the
Book of Mormon and in his Doctrine and Covenants revelations. This
is not unusual -- in the Bible, prophets often built on the words of
earlier prophets. The Book of Revelations uses whole passages from
the Book of Daniel. The totality of its vision is very different from the
totality of Daniel's vision, but many phrases are exactly the same. This
middle position is not an attack on revelation and the supernatural. It is
merely a perspective on how revelation and the supernatural work.
Thus the idea that a prophet is hermetically sealed off from his
environment, lives in a cultural vacuum, is a fallacy. A prophet
continually interreacts with his environment. And to say that his
inspiration is totally separated from his environment is equally wrong.
aspects are culture-bound and personality-bound. If we were to regard
Jonah's loveless thirst for the destruction of the people he prophesied
to as a perfect, or admirable, attribute, we would be making a terrible
mistake. I would go a step further and say that, while prophets can be
inspired, their human expression of their inspiration is always limited,
is never absolutely perfect. Joseph Smith reworking sections of the
Doctrine and Covenants is an example of this.[104] Limitations in the
revelations of the Old Testament show that no revelation is ever
absolute, but always has human and cultural elements.[105] This is not
to deny that inspiration does not occur in the books of the Old
Testament. Aspects of it are eternal; other aspects are culture-limited.
Some have characterized this kind of reading of scripture as "grocery
shopping" -- choosing what is easy and comfortable from the
scriptures and ignoring what is difficult. On the contrary, the insightful
reader will recognize the eternal parts of the scriptures and be as bound
by them, and inspired by them, as ever. Furthermore, this kind of
reading keeps us from being passive, unthoughtful readers -- it shows
us that we must use our moral agency as we read. There are enormous
dangers in regarding the culture-limited phenomenon (such as women
not speaking in church, or archaic Palestinian holy war) in religious
history as an eternal principle.
(3) In looking at prophets, we should not ignore Joseph Smith's "A
prophet is not always a prophet" principle. Prophets, when they are not
acting as a prophets, can make mistakes; they retain their free agency
after their calling, as the Book of Jonah abundantly shows. Again, we
might mention Galatians 2, which shows Paul rebuking the supreme
leader of the New Testament church (in Mormon terms, the church's
"prophet" at the time), and in fact accusing him of moral cowardice.
Even the great Moses sinned, and was not allowed to enter the
promised land. This principle allows us to accept human elements of
prophets, their mistakes, without enshrining their mistakes. So
prophets can have personal limitations, and they can have some of the
limitations of their culture, and still be inspired at other times. This is
not an atheistic position. It merely asserts that some aspects of
prophetic lives and writings are inspired and eternal, while other
In my particular moderate perspective, revelation can come in
complex ways. One oversimplified view of revelation is that it always
comes in pristine, final form to a person at the top of the hierarchy,
then is merely handed down to those lower in the hierarchy. In fact,
revelation sometimes comes to those lower in the hierarchy, then these
influence those higher up. (For example, a counselor can influence a
president.) Often church leaders must struggle with an issue, research
it, talk about it, debate the issue, change from incorrect to correct
positions, sometimes in generational time frames, before final
inspiration comes.
33
Ad Hominem
I am on record elsewhere warning about the dangers of ad hominem
attack in religious scholarship (or rather, mixed with scholarship, as it
is not scholarship), in both conservative and liberal writing.[107] As I
stated there, ad hominem is extremely easy to write; anyone can call
anyone anything. However, careful, constructive scholarship -- the
plodding collection and assimilation of data, assessing data in a
balanced way -- is difficult. It will always be seductively tempting to
replace meticulous research and writing with emotionally satisfying,
shallow, partisan ad hominem attack. Even when some token
scholarship is combined with ad hominem, the ad hominem has all the
emotional force. Scholarship is devalued.
Such "moderate" perspectives allow us a fascinating view of
complexity in the church. One oversimplified view of the church is
that all church leaders believe exactly the same correct thing at all
times; they are seen as opposed to church "enemies" who are
completely evil. Actually, anyone with any background in church
history knows that church leaders have often disagreed, sometimes
strongly and heatedly, among themselves.[106] This is not true merely
of modern leaders; it is also true of the early apostles in the primitive
church, as when Paul "withstood Peter to his face." (Galatians 2.) Thus
we can view church history as showing not simple monolithic
perfection unified against monolithic evil outside the church; but as
tensions within the leadership, different currents and dimensions of
thought and action in the leading quorums in the church. Among our
modern leaders we will find acerbic Jonahs and gentle, otherworldly
Johns; there will be forward-looking, inclusive leaders (such as Paul)
coming into conflict with more traditional leaders (such as James). On
an individual level, sometimes a church leader will be wonderfully
right and farseeing on one issue and culture-bound on another issue.
So not only is there a complex view of church history, but a complex
view of every church leader.
In addition, ad hominem deflects focus from the original problems, the
real problems. In other words, we have the problem of Joseph Smith's
polygamy. Rather than deal with this problem constructively, by doing
good scholarly work on the subject, the ad hominem policy simply
advises personal attack on anyone who does deal with the issue. On a
short term basis, this deflects attention from the issue; but on a long
term basis, the underlying problem remains. For instance, Joseph
Smith married a fourteen year old girl polygamously as a result of a
dynastic arrangement with her father, an apostle. The documentation
for this is not in doubt; I do not believe that Anderson, Faulring or
Bachman would disagree in any way. Even if there was no sexual
consummation in the marriage (and, as I have stated previously, my
best guess is that there was no sexual consummation) -- this is still an
event that has problematic aspects. If Anderson, Faulring, and
Bachman deal with it by labeling me an atheist or a modern John C.
Bennett, the underlying problem still remains. This is not a wise,
long-term solution to the real problem.
Therefore, my views on history and religion are completely theistic,
though my view of how God works in history may be more complex
than that of the conservative on the far right. I have no objection to
Anderson, Faulring and Bachman if they disagree with my particular
moderate positions, and hold to positions to the right of me. But I do
object when they label me as naturalistic / atheistic or allied with John
C. Bennett.
Why would such writers as this -- whose past writings I have
respected -- unfactually characterize me as atheist? This is a question
I've pondered a great deal since the Anderson, Faulring and Bachman's
reviews appeared. The only answer to that question that allows me to
see these writers in any kind of sympathetic terms is a deepened
realization of how difficult the issue of Joseph Smith's polygamy is for
conservative Latter-Day Saints, who have tried to set it aside for so
many years. The typical heightened view of Joseph Smith many
Mormons hold to, and the Joseph Smith who was a polygamist, do not
seem to be the same person. So, instead of seeking to create a holistic
view of Joseph Smith including a full, frank examination of polygamy
in his life and thought, the details of his plural marriages have usually
been avoided.
undisciplined is its lack precision. For instance, Bachman typecasts me
as a John C. Bennett figure -- Bennett is the archetypal figure of evil in
Nauvoo history. But in bringing up Bennett's name, he conjures a
whole constellation of associations, all of which will apply to me in the
reader's mind. At the risk of taking Bachman's ad hominem more
seriously than it deserves, I will point out a few of Bennett's aspects
that do not apply to me. First, I have never held high office in the
church, so cannot be accused of being the politically ambitious kind of
person that Bennett was. Second, my book was written as a result of
years of patient work in archives, libraries, and genealogical centers
(culling mostly sympathetic sources, diaries, autobiographies).
Bennett's book was not. It was a quickly written journalistic exposé.
Third, Bennett's book is typically anti-Mormon in its lack of balance.
As I show above, my book is full of balance. Bachman makes none of
these distinctions. A conscientious scholar should have.
In addition, I realize that sometimes people who are extreme
conservatives do not respect the faith of people who are liberal, or
moderate, or even conservative but less conservative than they are. (In
fact, in some circles, I am viewed as a conservative. Many who write
and read Mormon history have no connection with the Mormon
church; some of them view me with suspicion, when I profess belief in
God and my participation in LDS church activity.) When I included
the statement I did in In Sacred Loneliness about my faith, obviously, I
did not take forty pages and discuss all the ramifications of my
spiritual experiences. (It was not the appropriate place to do so, though
I felt readers should know my Mormon background and perspective.)
A person's heart, soul, experience, and faith is a very complex thing.
Nevertheless, for extreme conservatives, faith that is not exactly like
theirs is rejected as valid faith at all. While I understand there is a gap
in understanding between liberal, moderate and conservative (and
certainly, I believe that the extreme conservative's faith is often
oversimplified), the conservative's leap to characterize a moderate
author as "atheistic" -- unless there is clear evidence of atheism (such
as a statement admitting atheism by the author) -- seems to me to be
unworthy of conscientious scholars or church members.
The Moderate in the LDS Church
Finally, as our church has become increasingly polarized, one wonders
if the moderate will survive. If the far right grows increasingly
aggressive, militant, anti-intellectual and intolerant, the LDS moderate
could be forcefully distanced from the community. While obviously
the far right would see this as a victory, I suggest that the moderate can
be a stabilizing force. One hopes that the LDS church will not split into
extreme conservative and extreme liberal wings -- one thinks of the
division of American Lutheranism into "conservative" and "liberal"
denominations, or of the tripartite split of American Judaism.[108]
Time will tell.
FOOTNOTES
[1] See Dean Jessee, ed., The Papers of Joseph Smith, Volume 1, Autobiographical
and Historical Writings (SLC: Deseret, 1989), 1:5-7, 272-73; Thomas G. Alexander, "The
Reconstruction of Mormon Doctrine," Sunstone 22 (June 1999): 15-29, 16; James B. Allen,
"The Significance of Joseph Smith's 'First Vision' in Mormon Thought," in D. Michael Quinn,
One aspect of ad hominem that is particularly destructive and
34
ed., The New Mormon History: Revisionist Essays on the Past (SLC: Signature Books, 1992),
37-52.
1986); Linda King Newell and Valeen Tippetts Avery, Mormon Enigma: Prophet's Wife,
'Elect Lady,' Polygamy's Foe (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1984).
[2] Jessee, The Papers of Joseph Smith, 1:15-95; Dan Vogel, ed., Early Mormon Documents,
Volume 2 (SLC: Signature Books, 1998), 416-66; D. Michael Quinn, Early Mormonism and
the Magic World View, 2nd rev. ed. (SLC: Signature Books, 1998), 136- 77.
[6] See Juanita Brooks, The Mountain Meadows Massacre, 2nd ed. (Norman: University of
Oklahoma Press, 1962).
[3] Emma Smith, in an 1879 interview with Joseph Smith III, said, "In writing for J.S. I
frequently wrote for day after day, often he sitting at the table close by him, he sitting with
his face bu=ried in his hat, with the stone in it and dictating hour after hour, with nothing
between us." Notes for interview published in Saints' Herald 26 (Oct. 1, 1879): 279, repr. in
Dan Vogel, ed., Early Mormon Documents, Volume 1 (SLC: Signature Books, 1996), 539; cf.
Quinn, Early Mormonism, 171.
[8] For example, Wilford Woodruff journal, Apr. 9, 10, 1852 (Scott Kenney edition,
4:129-30); March 19, 1854 (Kenney 4:250); Sept. 17, 1854 (Kenney 4:288); David Buerger,
"The Adam-God Doctrine," Dialogue 15 (Spring 1982): 14-58; Gary Bergera, "The Orson
Pratt-Brigham Young Controversies: Conflicts within the Quorums, 1853-1868," Dialogue
13 (Summer 1980): 7-49.
[7] Brooks, The Mountain Meadows Massacre, 143, 151, 158-59, 165-66, 181.
[9] Heber Grant Ivins, "Polygamy in Mexico as Practiced by the Mormon Church,
1895-1905," typescript, University of Utah library, also available on New Mormon Studies
CD-Rom(SLC: Signature Books, 1998); E. Carmon Hardy, Solemn Covenant: The Mormon
Polygamous Passage (Urbana: The University of Illinois Press, 1992); Van Wagoner,
Mormon Polygamy.
[4] For example, D&C 68:14-26, cf. the original text in The Evening and Morning
Star(October 1832): 3; see Richard Howard, Restoration Scriptures: A Study of Their Textual
Development, 2nd rev. ed. (Independence, MO: Herald Publishing House, 1995), 149-66.
See also Quinn, The Mormon Hierarchy: Origins of Power (SLC: Signature Books, 1994),
5-40 and Michael Marquardt, The Joseph Smith Revelations (SLC: Signature Books, 1999).
[10] For the previous LDS ban on blacks receiving priesthood, see Lester E. Bush, Jr. and
Armand L. Mauss, eds., Neither White nor Black: Mormon Scholars Confront the Race Issue
in a Universal Church (Midvale, Utah: Signature Books, 1984).
[5] For conservative documentation, see Assistant Church Historian Andrew Jenson's
collection of affidavits, and his list of 27 of Joseph Smith's plural wives, "Plural Marriage,"
Historical Record 6 (May 1887): 219-40. See my discussion of Jenson's reliability, below. In
addition to my book, see Lawrence Foster, Religion and Sexuality: Three American
Communal Experiences of the Nineteenth Century (NY: Oxford University Press, 1981);
Richard Van Wagoner, Mormon Polygamy: A History (Salt Lake City: Signature Books,
[11] Almost any substantive nineteenth-century Mormon journal will reflect this. See also
Lester E. Bush, Jr., Health and Medicine among the Latter-day Saints: Science, Sense and
Scripture (NY: Crossroad, 1993), 48-59.
unanimity bias," 64.
[12] See Wallace Stegner, The Gathering of Zion (NY: McGraw-Hill, 1964); Leonard
Arrington, Great Basin Kingdom: An Economic History of the Latter-day Saints, 1830- 1900
(Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1958); id., Adventures of a Mormon Historian
(Urbana: The University of Illinois Press, 1998), 175-85.
[21] James E. Talmage, The Story and Philosophy of Mormonism (Salt Lake City: The
Deseret News, 1914), 89. "But that plural marriage is a vital tenet of the Church is not true . .
. Plurality of wives was an incident, never an essential." While modern polygamists
understandably cite this quotation with disapproval, as conflicting with earlier church
leaders' viewpoints, I think Talmage's view reflects an inspired step forward in our church's
history.
[13] For instance, the idea that Joseph Smith could marry a fourteen year old girl, Helen Mar
Whitney, is part of my faith perspective, because the documentation for the event is
indisputable. But I do not think that it was necessarily wise for him to marry Helen. So my
view of the gospel includes church leaders who can on occasion make serious mistakes.
[22] Eugene England, "Fidelity, Polygamy and Marriage," in Dialogue 20 (Winter 1987):
138-54; repr. in Brent Corcoran, ed., Multiply and Replenish: Mormon Essays on Sex and
Family (SLC: Signature Books, 1994), 103-22.
[14] Donna Hill, Joseph Smith, the First Mormon (Garden City, NY: Doubleday & Company,
Inc., 1977), 62.
[23] I have written three articles based on Jesus's parables, actions and teachings: "Heaven
and Hell: The Parable of the Loving Father and the Judgmental Son," Dialogue 29.4 (Winter
1996): 31-46; "Thoughts on the Possibility of an Open Temple," Sunstone 22.1 #113
(March-April 1999): 42-49; "Was Jesus a Feminist?" Dialogue 32.4 (Winter 1999): 1- 18.
[15] Quicksand and Cactus: A Memoir of the Southern Mormon Frontier (SLC: Westwater
Press, 1981), 229.
[16] See Juanita Brooks' talk, "Sins of Omission in Presenting Mormon History," typescript,
Utah State Historical Society. For the new evidence on Native Americans' limited role in the
Massacre, see Christopher Smith, "Mormon Massacre at Mountain Meadows: Forensic
Analysis Supports Paiute Tribe's Claim of Passive Role," Salt Lake Tribune (January 21,
2001).
[24] For example, see David Earle Bohn, "Unfounded Claims and Impossible Expectations: A
Critique of the New Mormon History," in George D. Smith, ed., Faithful History (SLC:
Signature Books, 1992), 227-61, 228. Here Bohn states that the "New Mormon Historians"
"argue for an essentially naturalistic or secular approach to the Mormon past." See my
discussion of the meaning of "naturalistic" as "atheistic," below. For the literature for and
against the "New Mormon History," see Quinn, "Editor's Introduction," The New Mormon
History, xiv, xviii, footnotes 8 and 13.
[17] James N. Kimball, "J. Golden Kimball: Private Life of a Public Figure," Journal of
Mormon History 24 (1998): 55-84.
[18] Edward L. Kimball and Andrew E. Kimball, Jr., Spencer W. Kimball: Twelfth President of
the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (SLC: Bookcraft, Inc., 1977), ix.
[25] Leonard J. Arrington, Adventures of a Church Historian, 84; "The Founding of the
Latter-day Saint History Department," Journal of Mormon History 18 (1992): 41-56, 50.
[19] An Abundant Life: The Memoirs of Hugh B. Brown, ed. by Edwin B. Firmage (SLC:
Signature Books, 1988), 16. Ronald K. Esplin and Richard E. Turley, Jr., "Mountain Meadows
Massacre," Encyclopedia of Mormonism, 4 vols., ed. Daniel H. Ludlow (New York:
Macmillan, 1992) 2:966-68.
[26] For positions on evolution within Mormonism, see Gene A. Sessions and Craig J.
Oberg, eds., The Search for Harmony: Essays on Science and Mormonism (SLC: Signature
Books, 1993). Richard Sherlock's "A Turbulent Spectrum: Mormon Reactions to the
Darwinist Legacy," 67-92, gives an overview of the continuum, from then Apostle Joseph
Fielding Smith (evolution was "Satan's chief weapon in this dispensation to destroy the
divine mission of Jesus Christ," see "Editors' Introduction," vii) to Apostle and scientist John
A. Widstoe ("The law of evolution . . . does not require that all things, all life, shall have a
[20] Arrington calls this the "theological marionette bias" that has weakened much Mormon
history. See "The Search for Truth and Meaning in Mormon History," Dialogue 3 (Summer
1968): 56-65, 61, also found in D. Michael Quinn, ed., The New Mormon History:
Revisionist Essays on the Past (SLC: Signature Books, 1992), 1-12, 6. This is related to "the
35
common origin. It merely declares that everything in the universe is moving onward." Ibid.
xi). The conflict of Joseph Fielding Smith and scientist Henry Eyring is a fascinating story, see
Steven H. Heath, "Agreeing to Disagree: Henry Eyring and Joseph Fielding Smith," 137-54.
For unwillingness to accept a middle ground, see Sherlock, "Turbulent Spectrum," 70:
"[Joseph Fielding] Smith denied that one could be a theistic evolutionist." Smith seemed to
have a confrontative view of the gospel (the gospel and science are opposed, and it is our
duty to accept the gospel and reject science), while Widstoe, Talmage and Merrill seemed to
have an comprehensive view of the gospel (the gospel includes science). Widstoe wrote
that the Church "holds . . . that every scientific discovery may be incorporated into the
gospel." The Church, "which comprehends all truth, accepts all the reliably determined facts
used in building the hypothesis of organic evolution." John A. Widstoe, In Search of Truth
(SLC: Deseret Book, 1963), 125, 77, as cited in "Editors' Introduction," xx.
(Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1999).
[28] "Fawn Brodie on Joseph Smith's Plural Wive and Polygamy: A Critical View," in Newell
Bringhurst, ed., Reconsidering No Man Knows My History: Fawn M. Brodie and Joseph
Smith in Retrospect (Logan: Utah State University Press, 1996), 154-94.
[29] See my "Fawn Brodie," 156-58.
[30] For their labeling me as naturalistic, see below. See my pp. xii-xiii. It is a common
practice for naturalistic, secularist authors to edit the miraculous out of their narratives. If I
had been trying to seek acceptance on the naturalistic side of the spectrum, I would have
left out the many miraculous occurrences in my book. Anderson and Faulring, in what I
consider a bizarre and unfortunate judgment, refer to my work as psychohistory, a term
associated with Brodie. See below.
[27] See Newell Bringhurst's insightful biography, Fawn McKay Brodie: A Biographer's Life
[42] See Timothy Egan, "The Persistence of Polygamy," The New York Times Magazine(Feb.
28, 1999), 51-55, for an introduction to polygamous practices of Tom Green and the
Kingston family.
[31] I do think significant recurring patterns will be found generally in Mormon
polygamous women, see the literature referred to at In Sacred Loneliness, 630, especially
Suzanne Adel Katz, "Sisters in Salvation: Patterns of Emotional Loneliness Among
Nineteenth-Century Non-Elite Mormon Polygamous Women," M.A. thesis, California State
University at Fullerton, 1987. While writing In Sacred Loneliness, I purposely stayed away
from books on modern polygamy, such as Jesse L. Embry, Mormon Polygamous Families:
Life in the Principle (SLC: University of Utah Pres, 1987) and Irwin Altman and Joseph Ginat,
Polygamous Families in Contemporary Society (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1996), though many of the same recurring patterns can be found there.
[43] See my section on interpretive writing in history below.
[44] Martha Sonntag Bradley and Mary Brown Firmage Woodward (a descendant of Zina),
in Four Zinas: A Story of Mothers and Daughters on the Mormon Frontier (SLC: Signature
Books, 2000), 115, 137. However, I have not yet been able to confirm this reference in a
primary source.
[45] Review of In Sacred Loneliness, in Pacific Historical Review 68 (Aug. 1999): 466-468,
467. Once again, I have not yet been able to confirm this reference in a primary source.
[32] Bachman describes my tone as "mild" and "not shrill," but he seems to mention this
only as a contrast to the perceived complete negativism of the content of my book.
[46] "Fawn Brodie," 155-58 is my primary critique of Brodie, see also "Fawn Brodie" passim
and In Sacred Loneliness ix, 280-81, 629, 670.
[33] It received a T. Edgar Lyon Award of Excellence for an Article in Mormon History in the
May 1997 MHA conference, and a Dialogue award as best article of the year in the category
of History and Biography.
[47] See above on Oliver Buell.
[34] Janet Ellingson, Letter to the Editor, Journal of Mormon History 23.1 (Spring 1997),
vi-vii.
[48] See my remarks on whether Andrew Jenson and his sources are unreliable, below.
[35] Lawrence Foster, "Sex and Prophetic Power: A Comparison of John Humphrey Noyes,
Founder of the Oneida Community, with Joseph Smith, Jr., the Mormon Prophet," Dialogue:
A Journal of Mormon Thought 31:4 (Winter 1998): 65-84, 77. See also Foster's recent
review of In Sacred Loneliness in Dialogue 33.1 (Spring 2000 [actual: June 2001]): 184-86.
Though this review contains much that is positive, it continues to argue that Joseph Smith
did not actually marry Fanny Alger.
[50] "A Study of the Mormon Practice of Plural Marriage before the Death of Joseph Smith,"
(Master's Thesis, Purdue University, 1975), pp. 338-40, cf. In Sacred Loneliness, p. 641.
Bachman's thesis is available at the LDS Church History Department library.
[49] 291 n. 5.
[51] Anderson and Faulring seem to think that I have short-changed Bachman's
contribution to the study of early Mormon polygamy. (p. 73) I did not write a historiography
of polygamy in Mormonism, but if I had, I would have given Bachman full credit for his
remarkable master's thesis. Not long after my book was published, I ran into D. Michael
Quinn, and mentioned how highly I regarded Bachman's thesis. Mike agreed and
mentioned that it surpassed many doctoral theses. However, Bachman, though he
published a paper on Joseph Smith's Kirtland-era polygamy, "New Light on an Old
Hypothesis: The Ohio Origins of the Revelations on Eternal Marriage," Journal of Mormon
History 5 (1978): 19-32, has since withdrawn from active research and publication on the
issue. He has never sought to publish his thesis.
[36] See my "Fawn Brodie," 166-71; In Sacred Loneliness, 670.
[37] See my "Fawn Brodie," 156-57.
[38] In Sacred Loneliness, 231; "Fawn Brodie," 157-58.
[39] (Provo: BYU Press, 1977), 400.
[40] See Jack Larkin, The Reshaping of Everyday Life, 1790-1840 (New York: Harper & Row,
1988), 63; Laurel Thatcher Ulrich, Good Wives: Image and Reality in the Lives of Women in
Northern New England, 1650-1750 (NY: Oxford University Press, 1980), 6; Nancy F. Cott,
"Young Women in the Second Great Awakening in New England," Feminist Studies 3
(1975): 16. Larkin writes, "American women began to marry in their late teens; around
different parts of the United States the average age of marriage varied from nineteen to
twenty-three."
[52] Richard L. Anderson, "Joseph Smith's New York Reputation Reappraised," Brigham
Young University Studies 10 (Spring 1970): 283-314.
[53] Furthermore, as I show below, Anderson and Faulring inconsistently accept second
hand testimony on occasion.
[53a] (Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 1988), 41-55. The following quotes are from
pages 55 and 45.
[41] Cf. later cases in Mormon history when young women married older men, then
continued to socialize with young men of their age group -- see Thomas G. Alexander,
Things in Heaven and Earth: The Life and Times of Wilford Woodruff, a Mormon Prophet
(SLC: Signature Books, 1991), 135, and In Sacred Loneliness, 390, in which another of
[54] As is shown by the Helen Mar Whitney journal, Merrill Library, Utah State University,
June 5-22, 1886; October 7-13, 1887; January 27, 1888; June 27-29, August 27, 29, 1889.
Joseph's younger wives was separated from a young man she was seeing socially.
[55] Emmeline Wells to Mary Lightner, Febr. 10, 1887, CA.
36
permission for her (Melissa's) marriage to Joseph Smith.) Another example is Anderson and
Faulring's attempt to put forth Benjamin Johnson as preferred witness for the time of Fanny
Alger's marriage, 78-79, see below.
[56] Zina Young to Mary Lightner June 8, ([1887]), CA.
[57] Anderson and Faulring in other cases accept second-hand evidence willingly; e.g.,
when they accept Melissa Lott's statement on Emma Smith agreeing to her (Melissa's)
marriage to Joseph Smith (p. 86, Melissa says that her parents told her that Emma gave her
[58] "A Study of the Mormon Practice of Plural Marriage," 112, n. 26.
Emma gave her permission for the marriage. This is a very valuable reference, and I am
grateful that they brought it to my attention. I accept it tentatively, but we should note that
Melissa was not speaking from first-hand knowledge. Her parents told her that Emma had
given her permission, but Emma was not present at the marriage. This is an example of how
Anderson and Faulring accept second-hand testimony in some circumstances. They should
have a consistent methodological framework for doing this; if not, they will be perceived as
arbitrarily accepting and rejecting evidence.
[59] See "Heber C. Kimball: His Wives and Family," in Kate Carter, ed. and comp., Our
Pioneer Heritage (SLC: Daughters of Utah Pioneers, 1971) 10:377-428, reprinted in
pamphlet form, Kate B. Carter, ed. and comp., Heber C. Kimball: His Wives and Family(SLC:
Daughters of Utah Pioneers, 1967); Stanley Kimball, Heber C. Kimball: Mormon Patriarch
and Pioneer (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1981), 307-16.
[60] Cf. In Sacred Loneliness, 316, where Eliza R. Snow, Elizabeth Whitney, Elvira Cowles,
and Elizabeth Durphy visit the Lott farm soon before Melissa Lott's marriage to Joseph
Smith.
[72] See Helen Mar Kimball Whitney's autobiography, at Jeni Broberg Holzapfel and
Richard Neitzel Holzapfel, A Woman's View: Helen Mar Whitney's Reminiscences of Early
Church History (Provo, Ut.: Religious Studies Center, Brigham Young University, 1997), 137;
In Sacred Loneliness, 496.
[61] See In Sacred Loneliness, 632.
[62] See In Sacred Loneliness, 643; Dean Zimmerman, ed., I Knew the Prophets: An Analysis
of the Letter of Benjamin F. Johnson to George F. Gibbs, Reporting Doctrinal Views of
Joseph Smith and Brigham Young (Bountiful, UT: Horizon Publishers, 1976), 11.
[73] Cf. the William Clayton journal, Aug. 16, 1843, quoted in In Sacred Loneliness, 635.
[74] I would not call two wives "normative"; certainly small plural families were more
common that large ones. But an important wrinkle to factor in here is that elite Mormon
men tended to marry more wives than less elite men for religious reasons, see In Sacred
Loneliness, 10-11. Though I did not focus on later polygamy, this was an established
principle in Utah polygamy. See Helen Fisher Smith's statement cited at In Sacred
Loneliness, 636.
[63] Zimmerman, I Knew the Prophets, 38.
[64] Anderson and Faulring critique my statement that "Emma was consistently implacable
in her opposition to the 'principle'" (their p. 86,In Sacred Loneliness, 388), and state that it
would be "more accurate" to say that she "alternately cooperated and rebelled," as Orson
Pratt stated. This makes it sound as if I was not aware that Emma had at one time allowed
Joseph plural wives. However, my following sentence, which Anderson and Faulring should
have mentioned, affirms that Emma allowed Joseph at least four wives, as is well known.
Once again, they attacked a position I did not take. Incidentally, "alternately cooperated and
rebelled" implies that Emma continually went back and forth on this issue. Actually, if we
follow Mormon Enigma, it appears that Emma had a brief window of time when she
allowed Joseph plural marriages (i.e., when she married the Partridge and Lawrence sisters,
in March-May, 1843). But, as I stated on p. 388 of In Sacred Loneliness, even during this
period she was far from a real convert to polygamy. Emily Partridge wrote, "Emma seemed
to feel well until the ceremony was over, when almost before she could draw a second
breath, she turned, and was more bitter in her feelings than ever before, if possible, and
before the day was over she turned around or repented what she had done and kept Joseph
up till very late in the night talking to him." (Quoted at Newell and Avery, Mormon Enigma,
143.)
[75] Other polygamous families that were apparently harmonious were the families of
Southern Utah pioneer Dudley Leavitt, see Juanita Brooks, On the Ragged Edge: The Life
and Times of Dudley Leavitt (SLC: Utah State Historical Society, 1973); and Salt Lake Stake
President Angus M. Cannon, per an MHA talk given by Donald Q. Cannon at Cedar City,
Utah, May, 2001. For positive views of contemporary polygamy, see Mary Batchelor,
Marianne Watson and Anne Wilde, Voices in Harmony: Contemporary Women Celebrate
Plural Marriage (SLC: Principle Voices, 2000).
[76] No Man Knows My History 347.
[77] "A Study of the Mormon Practice," 124-36.
[78] Religion and Sexuality 161-63. Foster prefers not to use the term polyandry, though he
accepts that two different kinds of marriage were existing at the same time for these
women. I agree with him that, depending on one's point of view, the term could be rejected.
From the viewpoint of legal civil marriage alone, there was no polyandry; and from the
perspective of eternal, celestial marriage alone, there was no polyandry. Foster's emphasis
on the latter kind of marriage, I believe, causes him to reject the term.
[65] Journal of Mary Ellen Kimball (Salt Lake City: Pioneer Press, 1994), 39; Altman and
Ginat, Polygamous Families, 134-36, 140.
[66] In Sacred Loneliness, 555. And once again, if I were simply pushing a narrow negative
thesis and editing out all contrary evidence, as per Anderson and Faulring and Bachman, I
probably would not have included a story such as this.
[79] "A Study of the Mormon Practice," 126-28.
[67] Examples in In Sacred Loneliness, 555, 556, 453; another example at Altman and Ginat,
Polygamous Families, 105.
[80] Teachings of the Presidents of the Church: Brigham Young (SLC: Church of Jesus Christ
of Latter-day Saints, 1997), 193-194; Discourses of Brigham Young, ed. by John Widstoe
(SLC: [Deseret Book], 1941), 246-47.
[68] Cf. Altman and Ginat, Polygamous Families, 104-5.
[81] (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1997).
[69] Wilford Woodruff journal, Oct. 26, 1868 (Kenney 6:435), quoted at In Sacred
Loneliness, 748. Modern parallels in Altman and Ginat, Polygamous Families,104- 5.
[82] (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1996), 72-103.
[70] Though it should be noted that Emma's biographers disagree, see In Sacred Loneliness,
715, Newell and Avery, Mormon Enigma 328.
[84] Leonard Arrington and Davis Bitton, The Mormon Experience (NY: Random House,
1979), 187.
[83] Bates and Smith, Lost Legacy, 88-89.
[71] Anderson and Faulring, 86, point out that Melissa Lott said in the Temple Lot case that
and a host of other detractors who deny Joseph's inspiration."
[85] In an oral response to my book given at the Mormon History Association in 1999,
Bachman was even more extreme: In Sacred Loneliness "has taken a step back into the 19th
century and joined hands with Eber D. Howe, John C. Bennett, Joseph Jackson, William Hall
[86] Journal of Discourses 3:125, as cited in Van Wagoner, Mormon Polygamy, 230.
37
[86a] “They Might Have Known That He Was Not a Fallen Prophet” — The Nauvoo
Journal of Joseph Fielding,” transcribed and edited by Andrew F. Ehat, in Brigham Young
University Studies 19 (1979): 133-66, 149. I am indebted to Gary Bergera for this reference.
vols. (Salt Lake City: Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 1902-32) (hereafter, HC)
4:403.
[87] See Van Wagoner, Mormon Polygamy, 230; also Irene M. Bates, “William Smith,
1811-93: Problematic Patriarch,” Dialogue 16 (Summer 1983): 19, citing Warsaw Signal, 3
Sept. 1845 and Deposition of Cyrus H. Wheelock, Temple Lot Suit (Abstract), Lamoni, 1893,
cited in Ivins Notebook No. 2, p. 111.
[100] HC 4:402-3.
[99] The Mormon Hierarchy: Origins of Power, 65.
[101] For this controversy, on the "New Mormon History" side, see D. Michael Quinn,
"Editor's Introduction," in The New Mormon History, vii-xx; Thomas G. Alexander,
"Historiography and the New Mormon History: A Historian's Perspective," Dialogue 19 (Fall
1986): 25-50 (see p. 43 for accusations of "naturalism."). On the opposing side, Louis
Midgely, "The Acids of Modernity and the Crisis in Mormon Historiography," in Smith,
Faithful History, 189-226 and David Earl Bohn, "Unfounded Claims and Impossible
Expectations: A Critique of the New Mormon History," also in Faithful History, 227- 62.
[88] Typescript in my possession, p. 14. I would like to thank Jess Groesbeck for pointing
this passage out to me. See also Van Wagoner, Mormon Polygamy, 38-39.
[89] (Knoxville: The University of Tennessee Press, 1988).
[90] For my skeptical view of this suggestion, see above.
[102] "Historiography and the New Mormon History," 40-41.
[91] See above for an analysis of the historical reliability of this
statement.
[92] "Fawn Brodie," 155-57.
[103] In fairness to BYU and the Church Educational System, I should note that BYU
historian Kathryn Daynes, though she disagreed with aspects of In Sacred Loneliness, gave
it a responsible and balanced review, see Pacific Historical Review 68 (Aug. 1999): 466-468;
and Gerald Jonas, a member of the Church Educational System, gave my book a good
review. See Church History (1998): 602-3.
[93] "Fawn Brodie," 193 n. 54.
[94] Cf. Barbara Tuchman, A Distant Mirror: The Calamitous 14th Century (NY: Knopf,
1968), xviii, where she apologized for the frequent use of probability language in her book
-- "annoying but, in the absence of documented certainty, unavoidable." Certainly, writing
history from a woman's point of view often leaves one with less documentation than one
would like. The difference between Fanny Young and her brother Brigham in quantity of
source material is a vivid illustration of this. This might be a reason that feminist history
might have a little more, or substantially more, "probability" language that history about
males.
[104] Howard, Restoration Scriptures; Marquardt, The Joseph Smith Revelations.
[105] For instance, though "holy war," which demanded that the women and children of
the vanquished be killed, was part of the archaic culture of Palestine, such a commandment
is counter to the nature of a loving God. See 1 Samuel 15:3.
[106] See J. Reuben Clark, "When Are the Writings or Sermons of Church Leaders Entitled to
the Claim of Scripture?" in Deseret News, Church News section, July 24, 1954, as cited in
Duane Jeffrey, "Seers, Savants and Evolution," 155-87, in Sessions, The Search for Harmony,
186; the whole talk is reprinted in Dialogue 12 (Summer 1979): 68-81. This speech was
given at BYU on June 28, 1954 by Clark, a member of the First Presidency. "I have shown
that even the president of the Church has not always spoken under the direction of the Holy
Ghost, for a prophet is not always a prophet. I noted that the Apostles of the Primitive
Church had their differences, that in our own Church, leaders have differed in view from the
first." Hugh B. Brown, a member of the First Presidency, wrote that even doctrinal
statements signed by the First Presidency can contain errors, and thus can be supplanted by
later statements from the First Presidency. An Abundant Life, 124. For General Authorities
disagreeing among themselves, sometimes as the result of heated personal and ideological
conflicts reminiscent of Peter, James and Paul in Galatians, see D. Michael Quinn, The
Mormon Hierarchy: Origins of Power and The Mormon Hierarchy: Extensions of Power
(Salt Lake City: Signature Books, 1996).
[95] See Tuchman, A Distant Mirror, xv: The first hazard of Tuchman's historical enterprise
is "uncertain and contradictory data with regard to . . . hard facts." xvii: "Contradictions . . .
are part of life, not merely a matter of conflicting evidence. I would ask the reader to expect
contradictions, not uniformity."
[96] For further recent discussions of the Danite question, see William G. Hartley, My Best
for the Kingdom: History and Autobiography of John Lowe Butler, a Mormon
Frontiersman(Salt Lake City: Aspen Books, 1993), 41-80 (a conservative view); Stephen C.
LeSueur, "The Danites Reconsidered: Were They Vigilantes or Just the Mormon Version of
the Elks Club?" John Whitmer Historical Association Journal 14 (1994): 35-52 (more liberal).
[97] See D&C 107:33, 36-38. See also Ron Esplin's fine thesis, "The Emergence of Brigham
Young and the Twelve to Mormon Leadership, 1830-41," (Provo, UT: Ph.D. Diss, BYU,
1981), cited at In Sacred Loneliness, 691; and Quinn, The Mormon Hierarchy: Origins of
Powers, 59-60, with sources cited there.
[107] "Christian Scholarship and the Book of Mormon," Sunstone 19 (Sept. 1996): 74- 81.
[98] Brigham H. Roberts, ed, History of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 7
[108] See Sydney E. Ahlstrom, A Religious History of the American People (New Haven:
Yale University Press, 1972), 578-82, 976-77. A bit closer to home, we have the recent break
off of the conservative Restoration groups in the Reorganized LDS church. See William D.
Russell, "The Fundamentalist Schism, 1958-Present," in Roger D. Launius and W.B. "Pat"
Spillman, eds., Let Contention Cease: The Dynamics of Dissent in the Reorganized Church
of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (Independence, MO: Graceland/Park Press, 1991),
125-52, 134-37; Richard P. Howard, The Church Through the Years, Volume 2: The
Reorganization Comes of Age, 1860-1992 (Independence, MO: Herald Publishing House,
1993): 409-32.
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