The tenure of John W. Dawson in Utah's highest office was short, full of strife and uncomplimentary both to him and to the Utahns who were happy to see him leave after just three weeks in office.
President Abraham Lincoln appointed Dawson, an Indianan, to be Utah Territory's third governor. He arrived in the territorial capital Dec. 7, 1861, and took the oath of office Dec. 10. Dec. 31, he was on his way out of town, followed by a gang of ruffians who assaulted him at the Hanks' mail station in Mountain Dell, beating him "within an inch of his life."Almost immediately upon his arrival, Dawson antagonized the pioneering Mormons by calling for $40,000 in tax support for the Civil War. With precious little cash in the territory, citizens wondered if Washington would be willing to do business as the Utahns themselves did - by bartering goods and services.
He further failed to endear himself to his constituents when he vetoed a bill passed by both houses of the territorial legislature - and strongly supported by voters - seeking a constitutional convention as a prelude to statehood. One of the goals of the proposal was specifically to give Utahns control of their own government and rid themselves of Washington appointees such as Dawson.
The new governor argued that there was not time to notify Congress of the proposed convention. Utah leaders said it was not necessary to officially notify Congress, but that the bill could be in effect until Congress chose to either approve or deny it. Despite Dawson's veto, mass meetings were called throughout the territory, and delegates were elected to a convention to be held in Salt Lake City Jan. 20, 1862.
But Dawson's crowning insult to Utahns was his insult to Tom Williams' widow. When rumors began to circulate that the governor had made "grossly improper" proposals to Sister Williams, then compounded the offense by offering her $3,000 not to expose him, the fat was in the fire.
In its report regarding Dawson's departure on the Eastern daily stage, the Deseret News said Dawson had been "confined to his room and reported to be very sick, and what was worse, in a state of mental derangement, or in other words, distressingly insane."
At first, the report by Dawson's physician, also an unpopular man in the community, that Dawson was insane was not believed. But it was "ascertained to be verily true, and (Dawson's) afflication of a very serious character," the News reported.
The reporter conjectured that the strain of writing "such a lengthy and profound message as the one he read to the Legislative Assembly on the 10th has been too much for his feeble mind; several opine that the state of the atmosphere in this high altitude has produced unexpected results upon the Hoosier, who had probably never before drawn a breath of pure air."
But the majority believed Dawson's insanity was a result of his having "recently done what, under the common law of the country, would, if it had been enforced, caused him to have bitten the dust." In fact, two men had been summarily shot for the same types of offenses only a few years before, without any sympathy from the community.
The acerbic News report continued that ". . . as soon as he was informed that the deed would be divulged by the injured party, he suddenly became sick and crazy, made his will and sent his physician once and again to offer large rewards to the lady if she would make affidavit that nothing of the kind reported had transpired."
The lady had, however, already made affidavit to Brigham Young to the true facts of the case and it seemed wise for Dawson to head for the East as quickly as possible. The "Hoosier, who while on his way hither and for a while after his arrival, thought himself some great one," caught the first stage out of town, meaning to connect with others heading East to provide company and mutual protection across the plains.
He had, the newspaper said, "come to the conclusion that the climate of his native state, Indiana, was more congenial to men of his temperament, habits and propensities than that of Utah . . . ."
The opinion of the Deseret News writer was that "should a few others of the same stamp residing here resolve to leave the Territory and carry their resolutions into effect, it would be a great blessing to the citizens of Utah."
The newspaper went on to say that Dawson's departure precipitated "fearful and awful disturbances" that made his safety questionable.
That prediction was prophetic. As the stage rolled eastward, a half dozen young men, including one who was a kinsman of Sister Williams, determined they would avenge her sullied honor. They followed the mail coach to the Hanks station at Mountain Dell, pulled Dawson from the vehicle and beat him severely. They then rode off with as many of his belongings as they could find in the coach.
Although there was little sympathy for Dawson, Utah leaders felt they had to respond to the lawlessness of the young hoodlums. They were probably more motivated by a desire to be able to legitimately complain about the "political scum" sent to govern the territory than a desire to punish the young men, a Utah historian writes.
Most of the group was easily apprehended, but three, Lot Huntington, Moroni Clawson and an unnamed third party, eluded law officers and headed out of town. When a posse caught up with them at Fish Springs on the southern rim of the Salt Flats, Huntington was shot and killed by noted law officer O. Porter Rockwell. Two others were arrested, a historical account says.
Returned to Salt Lake City, the two remaining prisoners again broke away and they were shot down in the middle of Second South Street on Jan. 17, 1862.
"Rone" Clawson's body never was claimed. A city policeman, Henry Heath, was concerned that the young man should have a decent burial and he personally purchased burial clothing.
Heath's generosity, ironically, led to an amazing sequel to the troublesome John Dawson story.