The Reformation of 1856–57 was but one attempt to redirect spiritual energies of Church members into more useful channels in nineteenth century. It is to be expected that leaders in any religious organization will from time to time sense that refinements need to take place, that new courses need to be pursued, and that various programs and practices need to be expanded, altered, or discarded. It is also to be expected that early Latter-day Saint leaders, given their sense of mission and millennialist orientation, would approach reform with verve and vigor. Aside from the Reformation of 1856–57, there were at least three other times in nineteenth century Church history when Church presidents enthusiastically and hopefully initiated reform measures.
The first reformation, a little-known general reform at Nauvoo in 1842, was recently brought to the attention of historians by Michael Quinn.1 On January 18, 1842, Hyrum Smith told the Nauvoo high council that “there was a general want of action in the Church—that he wanted every one to start anew.”2 On May 1, the General Authorities [200] issued a call for a reformation throughout the Church.3 At this time rumors and gossip about the bizarre sexual exploits of John C. Bennett and others had surfaced, causing rifts and discontent among the Church populace. Apparently during this period Latter-day Saints were urged to renew their covenants through baptism. Quinn pointed out that individuals were not rebaptized because of gross misconduct but rather “for a personal reformation and remission of those sins which . . . were part of the human condition.”4 Church member Jacob Scott reported on February 28, 1843, that “nearly all the Church have been baptized again, for the remission of their sins.”5
There were also stirrings of reform in 1874 when Brigham Young instigated the United Order movement. Despite the emphasis on self-sufficiency and cooperatives in the 1860s, Church members never did achieve the economic independence that leaders desired. The difficulties experienced by Church members during the nationwide financial panic of 1873 was sufficient proof to Brigham that further steps needed to be taken to avoid entanglement with the nation’s economy. [201] With this in mind, Young implemented over 150 United Orders during the next two years throughout the region.6
While most of the orders were not functioning by 1877, there is no evidence that Brigham regretted his having initiated them. Earlier, in 1862, Young remarked, “I have had visions and revelations instructing me how to organize this people so that they can live like the family of heaven, but I cannot do it while so much selfishness and wickedness reign in the Elders of Israel.”7 According to historian William Hartley, the orders can be viewed as but one facet of this proposed plan. Their floundering, while disappointing to Church leaders, may well have pointed out to them that organizational deficiencies existed on both ward and stake levels.8
In 1877 Brigham sought to improve the administrative machinery of the Church. Thousands of changes were made involving “every stake, 241 wards, hundreds of quorums, and more than a thousand leadership positions.”9 A lengthy epistle was issued which listed reasons for the changes, expounded on priesthood principles which should govern Church organizations, and gave a host of instructions regarding Church government. It was the most comprehensive statement on priesthood [202] practice since the publication of the Doctrine and Covenants and probably one of the most influential acts of Brigham Young’s administration.10
The priesthood reorganization resulted in a large number of releases and changes in administrative personnel on both ward and stake levels.11 During all of this shifting there was surprisingly little talk of purifying the main body or pruning dissidents.12 To some like Isaiah Coombs of Payson, this comparatively mild transition was baffling. Payson residents, he wrote, talked of “the proposed cleansing of the Church by cutting off all dead branches, which it is hoped will soon be inaugurated.”13 The reform, however, took another course. Erastus Snow, perhaps remembering the excesses of 1856–57, cautioned bishops to magnify “that fatherly love, tenderness and anxiety that parents feel for their offspring.”14
As was the case in 1856–57, Church members were expected to get rebaptized during this period. Most of the Saints who participated in the orders were rebaptized in 1874–75, but apparently it was not a Church-wide requirement. With the priesthood reorganization of 1877, all members in good standing were expected to be rebaptized.15 [203] One St. George resident remarked that the 116 rebaptisms at Nephi that fall made him think that a “silent reformation” was underway.16
The priesthood reorganization movement of 1877 did have a pronounced influence on both the structure and tone of Mormon society. As was the case in 1856–57, closer supervision and more regular visiting by teachers prompted many to assume a more religious profile. The creation of new positions gave many more an opportunity to serve and feel a sense of accomplishment.17 One bishop’s counselor noted that the reorganization “has had the influence of waking some up that were way off the line of their duty.”18 Interestingly, in some of the wards, rebaptism was prerequisite to holding a position, a situation not unlike that of 1856–57.19
There was yet a third reform impulse in 1883–84. About this time, John Taylor, successor to Brigham Young as Church president, received a series of revelations, some of which had to do with Church government.20 Taylor reorganized the School of the Prophets “in accordance with the designs of the Almighty,” stressed the importance [204] of plural marriage, and instigated a Church-wide crusade to urge Latter-day Saints to the Word of Wisdom.21 Unlike the reform movements of 1856 and 1877, rebaptism does not appear to have been a cardinal concern. There was also a comparative lack of inflammatory rhetoric. This was in part due to the fact that Mormonism’s saltiest orators, Brigham Young, Jedediah Grant, Heber C. Kimball, and Orson Hyde, had died.22
While the ultimate aim of all the reform movements was to shake off the fetters of lethargy and sin and increase unity, the Reformation of 1856–57 is the only one that, until recently, has received any kind of scholarly scrutiny. That is not because it brought about any drastic changes in ideology. It did not. In terms of organizational patterns and structure, however, there were some important developments. Gary Phelps has noted that during the Reformation ward bishops for the first time came to be regarded as “fathers” to their wards.23 During this era more importance was attached to the role of being a teacher in the Aaronic priesthood.24 The calling [205] of home missionaries in 1855, though not without precedent, was also a significant development.25
Still, the organizational legacy of the Reformation was not particularly impressive. There was no revealing of any utopian schemes, no new blueprints for a better society. The basic Church structured remained unaltered. New auxiliaries and new positions were not created. Certainly in terms of organizational impact it is not to be compared with the priesthood reorganization of 1877.
What distinguished the Reformation of 1856–57 from other reform movements was the intensity and energy with which it was conducted. No other reform movement in the history of the Church was characterized by such ardor, such earnestness, such impetuosity. To a degree this fervor can be attributed to the charisma and magnetism of Jedediah Morgan Grant. Rarely has Mormonism had a leader who could match Grant’s capacity for moving a congregation to intense emotional levels. Of more consequence than any single personality, however, were two related factors involving space and time. The first had to do with the comparatively isolated setting in which the Saints found themselves in the 1850s. For the first time in their history they were segregated from the outside world and insulated against Gentile interference and reprisal. Controversial doctrines could be aired and practiced openly. Plural marriage, a practice clandestinely engaged in by several high-ranking Church leaders since 1841 was announced publicly for the first time in 1852. Other “laws of God” [206] were discussed with more frequency and vibrancy at this time than had been the custom at previous locations. The beginning of the end of this period of detachment came with the arrival of Johnson’s army in 1858. With the gradual infusion of Gentiles form that point forward into Utah territory came a corresponding decline in bold talk and incendiary threats.26
A more significant factor in accounting for the intensity of the 1856–57 Reformation was the “world view” which characterized Mormon society in that era. Church members were convinced their destiny was to build an earthly kingdom in preparation for Christ’s second advent. While this belief remained in centerpiece position on the theological mantel until the end of the century, its strength and influence gradually ebbed as years passed and cataclysmic events heralding the Second Coming failed to materialize. Most Saints living during the time of the Reformation, though realizing that much needed to be done, expected the Parousia within their lifetimes. As George Q. Cannon remarked in 1833, if the pioneers entering the valley in 1847 would have known “that 36 years would elapse and they would still be here . . . many of them would have fainted by the way.”27 This millennial perspective, already a prevailing current in the 1850s, was heightened by both the rhetoric and results of the Reformation. [207]
By February and March of 1857, this “eagerness of spirit” literally permeated Mormon communities. Convinced that the “vail of darkness [had been] rolled back,” they began “to know and realize that the day of our redemption draws near.”28 “Let us be faithful, keep our covenants, and press onward until that [Christ’s coming] shall come,” said Daniel Wells.29 Convinced that “important events and duties transpire quite as fast as we are prepared for them,” Wells had earlier warned Saints not to be sidetracked from godly pursuits with the approaching planting season.30 According to Wilford Woodruff they did not. Writing in July, 1857, Woodruff noted that “the spirit of the Reformation lives in their [the Saints’] hearts, and brings forth fruit in their lives, and therefore President Young frequently of late has said this is a ‘God blessed people.’”31
Confident that they were doing God’s will, the Saints were almost defiant when they learned in July that a United States Army division was marching to Utah. Periodically throughout the 1850s federal officials in Utah had registered complaints over alleged civil [208] disorders.32 Perhaps the most influential of these reports was one sent by Judge William Drummond in March, 1857. Among other things, Drummond charged the Church with murder, harassment of federal officers, slander of the federal government, disregard of the laws, and destruction of court records. Acting on the allegations, President James Buchanan sent military troops to Utah to install a new governor and restore order.33 With Reformation zeal still burning brightly, some Saints read a cosmic meaning into the event, assuming it was Satan’s last mighty effort to crush the children of light.34 Buoyed up by Reformation successes, Church leaders expressed little fear of the army as long as the Saints remained righteous. “The greater its numbers, the greater and more complete its overthrow,” Orson Hyde said in October. “If the Red Sea be not the trap in which the enemy will be caught,” predicted Hyde, “there will be a snow or hail storm, a whirlwind, an earthquake, fire from above or from beneath, or the sword of the Lord and of Brigham.”35 Earlier Heber C. Kimball had assured Church members that “there will not be much fighting for us to do if we live our religion.”36 [209]
The Saints did not have to do much fighting but only because of a change in strategy. Realizing that a military encounter would be futile, they adopted a scorched earth policy. Between the end of March and mid May, 1858, thirty thousand Saints moved south to the vicinity of Provo. Only a selected number of men remained behind to take care of crops and, if necessary, to burn homes if the army decided to occupy them. The soldiers entered Salt Lake City on June 25, 1858. Leaving all Mormon property alone, they marched to Cedar Valley and erected a permanent base. On June 30, Brigham Young told the bedraggled Saints to return home.37 It had been a difficult time. There had been much suffering and distress and perhaps even more frustration.38 Individuals whose destruction had been prayed for took up permanent residence just a few miles from Church headquarters. Saints who had anxiously awaited divine intervention were disappointed.
It is in the months immediately following the return of the Saints to their homes that one senses a waning of Reformation enthusiasm and anticipation. Seemingly, the events surrounding the coming of the army, the interruption, confusion, and disappointment, caused many Church members to lose their former fervor. On November 11, 1858, Jesse Little, second counselor to Presiding Bishop Edward Hunter, [210] fumed that the bishops were “dead!, dead!, dead!”39 Two weeks later it was noted that “a spirit seemed to be manifest now, to try to defeat the sayings of those [who] preside over them.”40 In April, 1859, Edward Hunter said, “I never saw such a time as this, when nearly every person either finds fault with, or feels disposed to do so, with the authorities that preside over them.”41 The following month, Bishop Hardy reported that many Saints were leaving Utah because they could not make a decent living.42 In July, 1859, the gloomy Hunter complained that “not more than one in five attend to their prayers.” “Many of the people don’t give a damn about the Bishops,” bewailed Hunter, and if a Bishop’s court, or the High Council meet to decide a case, the very parties will insult you before they leave the place.”43
Although Hunter had a propensity for accentuating despair, he was not the only one to lament the overall lack of commitment among Saints in Zion. Brigham Young’s assessment of the benefits of the Reformation, given in November, 1858, denoted similar disenchantment:
Do you think I feel like preaching to such a people? I have preached to them until they are almost preached to death, and I do not feel like preaching much more to them. You know how I felt some two or three years ago this fall or the latter part of the summer. I felt as tho’ I could not live without taking my valise in my hand and walking through this Territory to find out if there was a man for God, for it seemed to me as tho’ the whole people had gone astray. I related my feelings [211] to a few, and they started out, Jedediah fell a victim to that spirit, he took it from me, and he labored until he went into his grave, to find among all the people who had forsaken their homes and their all in foreign countries to come to this place [who] were still for Christ and none else. We had a reformation, and what is the result? I will tell you by relating an anecdote. It was asked an Elder in one of the settlements if the reformation had reached them; “Yes,” he replied, “and thank God it is all over.” That is the almost universal feeling now. Unless some men are held by the collar, or by the hair of the head they will go to hell—they will not cleave to the Lord with all their hearts.44
Allowing for the possibility that Brigham Young was feeling especially cantankerous when he downplayed the effectuality of the Reformation, his assessment still should not be ignored. It may be that both apologists and critics have claimed too much for the Reformation. Hopefully, it has been demonstrated that the reform impulse was on the whole more structured, less spontaneous, and more rational than has been generally believed. Conversely, it appears that far from being a spiritual watershed, its impact for many was of short duration and of minimal consequence.
That is not to say that there were not positive and perhaps lasting benefits to the Reformation of 1856–57. Scores of accounts in diaries and journals attest to the “spiritual rejuvenation” that many received during the reform. The historian has entered a largely subjective realm when he attempts to assess the genuineness or duration of such experiences. Suffice it to say that many individuals [212] noted a “marked increase of the Spirit of God among them.”45 For such people, the Reformation was a significant, even pivotal, time in their lives.
Another positive Reformational benefit, at least from the perspective of the solidly-entrenched Church member, was the severance of lukewarm Saints from the main body. Hundreds of disenchanted Saints left settlements in Utah in 1856–57, and hundreds more were cut off from the Church in the mission field and emigratory centers. Many of these individuals rejected some of Mormonism’s basic tenets and likely a fair number lacked a spiritual commitment to its cause. It seems reasonable to assume that a fair portion of such people would have caused disruption in a community where unity was considered paramount.
Unfortunately, among the hundreds who left Mormon country were some who probably could have contributed to the cause of building the kingdom had they been treated more deftly. These were basically decent individuals who were treated with a bludgeon when a scalpel might better have been used. Elder Jacob Gates, while acknowledging the positive merits of the Reformation, regretted the insensitivity that caused good people to leave:
I believe today that many have been driven from us because of an unwise course having been pursued by those who should have [213] been saviors to the people. I conceive we have not stood up in a right way to save the people, but we have marred the clay while in our hands and hence it is gone from our midst. If we would all follow the worthy examples set by our leaders we should be far more merciful and kind to the human family than we are; I tell you we should learn to deal with people with a gentle hand whom we know to be tender, such as new converts to the faith that they may have time to learn and grow strong in the knowledge of God . . . Let us therefore judge men according to their knowledge and their ability to increase in the things of God.46
There were other deleterious effects. The rash of divorces as a result of hasty marriages has been mentioned in Chapter 6. Too many Saints, in their desire to conform to counsel, made unfortunate choices. “I was obedient but not wise,” wrote Peter Madsen in his journal. “I married a girl but she did it more out of fright than of love; for that reason it could not last long—only about 9 months [and] then she was divorced in 1858.”47 The majority of divorce actions were initiated by women, many of whom according to Brigham Young were “marrying for a home and leaving that home when another offers.”48 Evidently divorce, especially among polygamists, became a rather common and casual practice.49
Another unfortunate Reformation result, one that possibly bore bitter fruit, was the negative impression it made on appointed [214] federal officials. It is always risky business to deal with “ifs,” but one wonders how much Reformation emotion and menacing talk influenced the unsavory Judge Drummond. If there had never been a Reformation, would Drummond have written a letter in March, 1857, listing alleged Mormon abuses? That report, probably more than any other factor, led to the sending of an army to Utah territory. If the army had never been sent, would the tragedy of Mountain Meadows have occurred? Likely not. Certainly there were troubled waters in southern Utah before the summer of 1857, but it was news of approaching soldiers that opened the floodgates.50
Perhaps the most damaging Reformation legacy was the grist it provided anti-Mormon writers. It might be argued that with the exception of polygamy, the doctrine of blood atonement has resulted in more malignment and misunderstanding than any other Church tenet. In actuality it was a belief that influenced the course of capital punishment legislation in Utah, but outside of this it was largely hypothetical.51 But people act and react according to what they believe to be true, and undoubtedly hundreds or perhaps thousands of Americans and Europeans, fed a diet of lurid tales about exotic marriage customs, tyrannical leadership, and holy murders, came to [215] regard Latter-day Saints as a despicable, if not dangerous, lot. That they were out of step with pluralistic America is to be admitted, but they were basically decent and moral people. To whatever extent, then, Reformation tales of horror and violence enhanced this negative image, was unfortunate. It simply postponed and made more difficult the assimilation of Mormons into mainstream American society. [216]
