Mormon History
Mark Twain's Visit with King Brigham - 1861
"I am not given to exaggeration, and when I say a thing I mean it." Page 85
We desired to visit the famous inland sea, the American "Dead Sea," the
great Salt Lake--seventeen miles, horseback, from the city--for we had
dreamed about it, and thought about it, and talked about it, and
yearned to see it, all the first part of our trip; but now when it was
only arm's length away it had suddenly lost nearly every bit of its
interest. And so we put it off, in a sort of general way, till
next day--and that was the last we ever thought of it. We dined
with some hospitable Gentiles; and visited the foundation of the
prodigious temple; and talked long with that shrewd Connecticut Yankee,
Heber C. Kimball (since deceased), a saint of high degree and a mighty
man of commerce.
We saw the "Tithing-House," and the "Lion House," and I do not know or
remember how many more church and government buildings of various kinds
and curious names. We flitted hither and thither and enjoyed
every hour, and picked up a great deal of useful information and
entertaining nonsense, and went to bed at night satisfied.
The second day, we made the acquaintance of Mr. Street (since deceased)
and put on white shirts and went and paid a state visit to the king.
He seemed a quiet, kindly, easy-mannered, dignified, self-possessed old
gentleman of fifty-five or sixty, and had a gentle craft in his eye
that probably belonged there. He was very simply dressed and was
just taking off a straw hat as we entered. He talked about Utah,
and the Indians, and Nevada, and general American matters and
questions, with our secretary and certain government officials who came
with us. But he never paid any attention to me, notwithstanding I
made several attempts to "draw him out" on federal politics and his
high handed attitude toward Congress. I thought some of the
things I said were rather fine. But he merely looked around at
me, at distant intervals, something as I have seen a benignant old cat
look around to see which kitten was meddling with her tail.
By and by I subsided into an indignant silence, and so sat until the
end, hot and flushed, and execrating him in my heart for an ignorant
savage. But he was calm. His conversation with those gentlemen
flowed on as sweetly and peacefully and musically as any summer
brook. When the audience was ended and we were retiring from the
presence, he put his hand on my head, beamed down on me in an admiring
way and said to my brother:
“Ah--your child, I presume? Boy, or girl?”