In which Passepartout receives a lecture on Mormon history1 while travelling at a speed of twenty miles per hour

During the night of 5 to 6 December, the train headed south-east over a distance of about fifty miles, then travelled about as far again towards the north-east, in the direction of the Great Salt Lake.

At about nine o’clock in the morning Passepartout went out on to the platform for a breath of air. The weather was cold and the sky was grey, but it had stopped snowing. The orb of the sun, swollen by the mist, looked like a huge gold coin, and Passepartout was busy calculating its value in pounds sterling when he was interrupted in this useful activity by the arrival of a rather odd-looking character.

The man, who had got on to the train at Elko station, was tall in stature, with a dark brown complexion, a black moustache, black stockings, a black silk hat, a black waistcoat, black trousers, a white tie and dog-skin gloves. He looked like a clergyman. He was going from one end of the train to the other, sticking up handwritten notices on the doors of each carriage.

Passepartout went closer and read on one of these notices that the church elder Mr William Hitch, a Mormon missionary, would be taking advantage of being on train no. 48 to give a lecture on Mormonism from eleven o’clock to midday in car no. 117. He invited all those gentlemen anxious to be instructed in the mysteries of the religion of the Church of Latter-Day Saints to come to listen to him.

‘I’m definitely going,’ Passepartout said to himself, although he knew hardly anything about Mormonism except that polygamy was the basis of its society.

The news spread quickly through the train, which was carrying about a hundred passengers. Of these, thirty at the most were by eleven o’clock seated on the benches in car no. 117, attracted by the prospect of the lecture. Passepartout was sitting in the front row of the congregation. Neither his master nor Fix had thought it worth making the effort to attend.

At the appointed time the elder William Hitch rose to his feet and in rather an angry tone of voice, as if he had already been contradicted, exclaimed: ‘I say unto you, brethren, that Joe Smith is a martyr, that his brother Hyrum is a martyr, and that the manner in which the federal government is persecuting our prophets will also make a martyr out of Brigham Young. Who would dare claim otherwise?’

No one had the temerity to contradict the missionary, whose state of excitement was in sharp contrast to the naturally calm expression on his face. But his anger was in all probability due to the fact that the Mormons were at present suffering trials and tribulations, since the government of the United States had only recently, and with considerable difficulty overcome these fanatics for independence. It had taken control of Utah and had made it subject to federal law after imprisoning Brigham Young for insurrection and polygamy. Since then, the prophet’s disciples had become even more active and, before resorting to more extreme measures, were using the spoken word to oppose the demands of Congress.

As can be seen, the elder William Hitch was seeking to make converts even on the railroad.

He then proceeded to recount the history of Mormonism from biblical times, enlivening the narrative by raising his voice and making dramatic gestures. He told how in Israel a Mormon prophet from the tribe of Joseph proclaimed the records of the new religion and bequeathed them to his son Moroni. How, many centuries later, a translation of this priceless book, which had been written in Egyptian hieroglyphics, was made by Joseph Smith Jr, a farmer from the state of Vermont, who in 1825 assumed the status of a mystical prophet. How, finally, a heavenly messenger appeared to him in the midst of a forest filled with light and handed to him the records of the Lord.

At that point a few listeners, who had little interest in the missionary’s historical overview, left the carriage, but William Hitch carried on. He recounted how Smith Jr gathered together his father, his two brothers and a few disciples to found the religion of the Latter-Day Saints, a religion which was taken up not only in America but also in England, Scandinavia and Germany and which counts among its members craftsmen and also many professional people. How a colony was founded in Ohio. How a church was erected at a cost of $200,000 and a town built at Kirkland. How Smith became an adventurous banker and was given by a humble tourist guide in Egypt a papyrus containing a handwritten account by Abraham and other famous Egyptians.

As the tale was rather long-winded, the ranks of listeners grew thinner and thinner until no more than twenty people were left in the audience.

But the elder, undaunted by the number of defections, recounted in detail how Joe Smith went bankrupt in 1837. How he was tarred and feathered by his shareholders, who were financially ruined. How a few years later he emerged, more respectable and more respected than ever, in Independence, Missouri, and became the head of a thriving community of no fewer than 3,000 disciples. How then he fell victim to the hatred of the Gentiles and was forced to flee to the American Far West.

By now there were ten people still listening, among them the trusty Passepartout, who was all ears. It was in this way that he learnt how after much persecution Smith reappeared in Illinois and in 1839 founded on the banks of the Mississippi Nauvoo-la-Belle with a population of as many as 25,000 souls. How Smith became its mayor, chief magistrate and commander-in-chief. How in 1843 he was a candidate for the presidency of the United States and how finally he was drawn into an ambush in Carthage, thrown into prison and murdered by a gang of masked men.

By now Passepartout was the only person left in the carriage and the elder, as he looked straight at him and captivated him by his words, reminded Passepartout that two years after the murder of Smith, his successor, the inspired prophet Brigham Young left Nauvoo and settled around the Great Salt Lake. It was here in this wonderful land and on this fertile soil, on the emigration trail that crossed Utah towards California, that the new colony expanded enormously, thanks to one of the main tenets of Mormonism, polygamy.

‘And this,’ added William Hitch, ‘is why the Congress felt such envy towards us! This is why the soldiers of the Union invaded the soil of Utah! This is why our leader, the prophet Brigham Young, was imprisoned in violation of the basic principles of justice. Will we give in to force? Never! We have been driven out of Vermont, driven out of Illinois, driven out of Ohio, driven out of Missouri and driven out of Utah, but we will still find an independent territory where we will pitch out tents. And you who are one of the faithful,’ added the elder, staring at his only remaining listener with eyes that blazed with anger, ‘will you pitch your tent in the shade of our banner?’

‘No,’ replied Passepartout courageously, fleeing in turn and leaving the fanatic to preach in the wilderness.

But while this lecture was going on the train had made rapid progress and at about half past twelve it reached the north-west tip of the Great Salt Lake. From there the passengers had a wide-ranging view over this inland sea, which is also called the Dead Sea and into which flows an American River Jordan. It is a beautiful lake surrounded by magnificent crags with broad bases that are encrusted with white salt, a superb stretch of water, which in the past was even more extensive, but with the passage of time the shoreline has gradually risen, reducing its surface area but increasing its depth.

The Great Salt Lake, which is about seventy miles long and thirty-five miles wide, is situated at about 3,800 feet above sea level and is very different in this respect from the Dead Sea, which lies 12,000 feet below sea level. It has a high salt content, since its waters hold in solution a quarter of their weight in solid matter. Its specific gravity is 1,170 compared to 1,000 for distilled water. Fish are therefore unable to survive in it and those brought into it by the Jordan, the Weber and other creeks soon die. However, the idea that the density of its waters is too great for anyone to dive into it is untrue.

The countryside surrounding the lake is extremely well cultivated, since the Mormons are experts at working the land. Six months later there would have been ranches and corrals for the domestic animals, fields of wheat, maize and sorghum, lush meadows and everywhere hedgerows of wild roses, clumps of acacias and euphorbia. But at present the ground was covered with a thin sprinkling of snow that hid it from view.

At two o’clock the travellers got out at Ogden station. As the train wasn’t due to leave again until six o’clock, Mr Fogg, Mrs Aouda and their two companions therefore had time to go to the City of Latter-Day Saints via the small branch line that goes off from Ogden. Two hours were enough to visit this absolutely typical American town, one that was built to the same pattern as all the others, huge chessboards with long cold lines, with ‘the mournful sadness of right angles’, to use Victor Hugo’s phrase. The founder of the City of Saints could not free himself from this craving for symmetry that characterizes the British and the Americans. In this unusual country, in which the people certainly do not measure up to their institutions, everything is ‘four-square’, the towns, the houses and human failings.

At three o’clock the travellers were, then, walking through the streets of this city built between the bank of the Jordan and the foothills of the Wasatch Mountains. They noted few or no churches, but by way of monuments there were the House of the Prophet, the Court House and the Arsenal. Then they saw houses of bluish brick with verandas and balconies, surrounded by gardens and bordered by acacias, palm and carob trees. A wall made of clay and pebbles, built in 1853, encircled the town. In the main street, where the market is held, stood a few mansions ornamented with pavilions, one of which was Salt Lake House.

Mr Fogg and his companions didn’t find many people about in the town. The streets were almost deserted, with the notable exception of the part near the Temple, which they reached after going through several areas that were surrounded by high fences. There were quite a large number of women, which is due to the unusual nature of the Mormon household. It should not be thought, however, that all Mormons are polygamous. It is a question of individual choice, but it should be noted that it is primarily the women in Utah who wish to get married, because according to the local religion the Mormon heaven does not allow unmarried members of the female sex to enjoy the blessings it provides. These poor creatures seemed neither wealthy nor happy. Some of them, doubtless the wealthiest, wore black silk jackets open at the waist, beneath a hood or a very simple shawl. The others were dressed only in cotton prints.

As a confirmed bachelor, Passepartout was unable to look upon these Mormon women, whose task it was to combine together to make just one Mormon man happy, without feeling a sort of panic. With his commonsense way of looking at things it was the husband he felt especially sorry for. He thought it a terrible thing to have to lead so many women at the same time through the vicissitudes of life, to steer them altogether towards the Mormon paradise, with the prospect of being reunited with them there for eternity in the company of the illustrious Smith, who must certainly grace this heavenly abode with his presence. Most definitely he felt no attraction for this sort of life, and he thought – perhaps mistakenly – that the female inhabitants of Salt Lake City were looking at him in a rather disturbing way.

Very fortunately his stay in the City of Saints was almost at an end. At a few minutes before four o’clock the travellers met up at the station and took their seats again in their carriages.

There was a blast on the whistle, but just as the traction wheels of the locomotive were spinning around on the rails and the train was beginning to gather speed, shouts rang out: ‘Stop! Stop!’

You cannot stop a moving train. The person doing the shouting was obviously a Mormon who had arrived late. He was out of breath from running. Luckily for him there were no gates or barriers at the station, and so he ran along the track, jumped on to the footboard of the last carriage and collapsed breathless on to one of the seats.

Passepartout, who had been watching this acrobatic performance with considerable excitement, went up to have a look at this latecomer and became particularly interested in him when he learnt that this citizen of Utah had only taken flight in this way because of a domestic argument.

When the Mormon had got his breath back, Passepartout made so bold as to ask him politely how many wives he had all to himself, and judging from the way the man had scarpered he assumed the answer was at least twenty.

‘One, sir,’ replied the Mormon, raising his hands to the heavens. ‘One, and that was enough!’