Book Review - Assassination of Governor Boggs

I just finished reading "The Assassination of Governor Boggs" by Rod Miller. I was asked to review this by my publicist friend, Tristi Pinkston who will link to this post over on her virtual book tour page. I took a peek at what some of the other reviewers there had to say about the book and was interested to see an interview with the author among them.

This book presents an interesting blend of genres, offering up historical fiction from a mystery/detective approach with some of the style of a western gunslinger tale thrown in for good measure.

The book is a fascinating read. It serves up a fictional character, one Calvin Pogue who works for the renowned Pinkerton detective agency from Chicago who has been assigned to investigate a cold case: the very real failed assassination attempt of Lilburn Boggs, who served as the the sixth Governor of Missouri from 1836 to 1840.

In real life, the culprit who shot Governor Boggs in Independence, MO in May of 1942 was never apprehended, although there was rampant speculation that the crime may have been committed by one Orrin Porter Rockwell, a faithful defender of Mormon leaders Joseph Smith and Brigham Young, and a major character throughout this book.

Governor Boggs was involved in many different issues and events of his day, but is perhaps best remembered as the one who issued the "Mormon Extermination Order"

From Wikipedia: Missouri Executive Order 44, also known as the "Mormon Extermination Order"[1] (alt. exterminating order)[2] in Latter Day Saint history, was an executive order issued on October 27, 1838 by the governor of Missouri, Lilburn Boggs. The directive was issued in the aftermath of the Battle of Crooked River, a clash between Mormons and a unit of the Missouri State Guard in northern Ray County, Missouri, during the so-called "Mormon War" of 1838. Insisting that the Mormons had committed "open and avowed defiance of the laws", and had "made war upon the people of this State," Boggs precipitously directed that "the Mormons must be treated as enemies, and must be exterminated or driven from the State if necessary for the public peace—their outrages are beyond all description."

To this day there are many LDS people who hear the name Lilburn Boggs and think of him as a monster who was the cause of the suffering and death by starvation of many who had to flee their homes following the order. So it is no small wonder that at the time he was shot the bad feelings between Boggs and the Mormon people would lead to speculation about motive for the crime.

In this book the investigation into the shooting of Boggs that very nearly did take his life occurs 20 years after the fact. Upon the death of Governor Boggs, his family hires the Pinkerton Detective Agency to determine once and for all who shot Lilburn all those years ago. They are aware that the statute of limitations on attempted murder had long since passed so it is not a matter of bringing the assailant to justice. They do, however, have a deep desire to put the matter to rest once and for all by knowing who was responsible.

Pogue travels by stagecoach and train to various locations (Independence, MO, Navoo, IL and Salt Lake City, UT and the California gold lands) to interview every person he can find who might be able to shed some light on those long past events. Some of the characters we meet through these interviews are

Sam Brannon

Jacob Wright Harlan

Emma Smith








One of the primary voices in each chapter in that of Porter Rockwell himself, the man who many believed was the shooter.

There is much about this book I liked very much. It's a strong narrative that held my interest. I especially felt a connection with the detective, Calvin Pogue, and loved the detail of his ever vigilant lookout for all manner of toy horses in every town he visited that he would mail with loving letters to his young daughter back in Chicago.

I had read in some of the other reviews for the story that there would be a dramatic "suprise ending", but I NEVER saw coming what actually unfolded.

What made me squirm a bit as I was reading was the whole issue of "historical fiction". Unlike some of that genre, this book has absolutely no footnotes or end pages that detail sources for the historical part to allow the reader to sort it out cleanly from the fiction part. So there were several points where I was left simply wondering "Did that really happen??" That was uncomfortably unsettling for me.

I LOVE reading fiction. I also enjoy reading history. Generally speaking, however, I like to know which is which.

Still, even with that caveat, I can heartily recommend this book. It's a worthy read. Now I'll be off to do a bit more research of my own to see what I can learn about some of these characters.

You can purchase this book at Deseret Book or on Amazon.com

Scanning Madness

About a month ago or there abouts I received eight boxes that were delivered to my doorstep by fed ex. Every one of the boxes pictured here were crammed full with photographs, documents, letters and personal papers going back three generations in my family. These boxes held the collection of genealogy, photo albums and various STUFF that had belong to my mother, her mother, and her mother before her. My aunt and uncle had gathered it all up from my grandmother's house in Cottonwood, AZ after her death in 1988. They sorted through it some, but it has mostly sat in boxes for over 20 years. Finally they decided something should be done with the collection, so they sent it all to me.

Oh my.

There are some absolute TREASURES in these boxes. There are photographs I had never seen or knew even existed. However, those treasures are mixed in with a whole lot of...um, junk. At least it is junk to me. My mother had the best of intentions, but she didn't have much sense of order. And, it would appear, she came by that habit honestly. Her mother's records are no more organized than my mom's.

So I've been spending LOTS of time going through these boxes piece by piece by piece, trying to sort out what is there - separating the wheat from the chaff. I've thrown away a lot of stuff. (Multiple copies of many photographs, EVERY card my mother got at her wedding, 15 copies of the newspaper that had her engagement photo in it, along with lots of old correspondence with strangers trying to track down various genealogy leads. (Thank you God for making research a whole lot easier these days since the invention of the internet.)

For the first couple weeks after the boxes came the contents took over every horizontal surface of my house as I painstakingly separated things out into specific piles: grandma photos here, Mom's sibs over there, my sibs in this pile, various cousins over there.

Sadly, there were quite a few of the really old pictures I have no idea whatsoever who they are of - including five tintypes that I suspect belonged to my great grandmother.

However, for pictures that I DO recognize I am absolutely determined to get them all cataloged so that when I go pinchers up no one will find stacks and stacks of boxes of disorganized clutter peppered with family treasures. That's one family tradition I'd just as soon not take on.

So I've been scanning all photos and posting quite a few of them onto the family blog that I started a while back. Then I mailed out several boxes to give pictures back to the various family groups they came from. Little by little I am whittling away at my piles.

I've reclaimed my living room and there are no more pictures on the dining room table. My office however, is still more than a catastrophe. There is simply no way I know to get through this project without making one heck of a mess.

I'll be glad when I get it done and can get my work space back in order. But right now I am incredibly thankful for the treasures of family images and records that have been gifted to me. It has been a fascinating process to go through it all.

I just wish I could find my desk.

Myth vs. Reality

I have just finished listening to the audiobook “Mayflower: A story of Courage, Community and War” by Nathaniel Philbrik. It was a powerful, well told tale that gave credit where credit was due to those early settlers we know as the pilgrims However, with impeccable research, similar to that in his earlier work "In the Heart of the Sea" about the whale ship Essex - the true story upon which Moby Dick is based - Philbrick takes painstaking care to reveal as much as records (rather than legend) can show up about who those early Pilgrims were and what the legacy was they left behind.

Like literally thousands of others, I can trace my lineage directly back to William Brewster, one of the spiritual leaders of the Pilgrims, so I've always felt a bit of bond with that boat that brought him to this country. One of my cousins still has a plate that has been carefully handed down in our family which is said to have come over on the Mayflower.

However, the tale that Philbrick unfolds has more to do with genocide of the native peoples than it does of friendly folks standing around celebrating the first thanksgiving.

While I am more than a little impressed by the powerful words of the Mayflower Compact which my ancestor signed and may very well have helped originate, I cannot help but be troubled by the repeating cycle of war and mayhem, blatant genocide and arrogant exploiting that were part and parcel of the Anglo takeover of this country.

Whether we are talking about the mass extermination of groups of native peoples in this land, the legacy of Pol Pot's killing fields in Cambodia, the horrors of Rwanda, or current events in Darfur, misery and killing seem to be a reoccurring pattern of human history.

I think of how we have this romanticized notion of who the pilgrims were and what their relationship with the Native peoples were like. Reality is far from myth we want to believe.

It isn't just national histories that we twist to shed a better light on our forbearers. I think of how I have at times created my own myths - like what my first marriage was about, the pictures I hold in my head about my college years, or the meaning I give to other significant events or relationships I have been a part of. No one likes to think of themselves as lazy, unkind, petty or cruel. So we mute our memories of our misdeeds and shed the spotlight of recall on our more honorable moments. We build up stories and legends in our head that can take on the power of myth that Joseph Campbell speaks about.

Lately I've been trying to sort out some of those distortions in my own world...piece by piece looking at what things I believe about myself, the world, and my place in it. What things have I made up because it was more comfortable to believe them? What truths have I avoided? What have I exaggerated? What can I hold on to for keeps?

Philbrick did his research by going through historic documents. My task is a bit more complex than that since most of my "records" are memories...which are by their very nature slippery, elusive things.

When I get together with my siblings we often talk of past events from our growing up years. Rarely do we recall those happenings in the same way. So is truth relative? Is MY truth valid because it impacted me the way I imprinted it even if it may or may not be historically accurate? Or what of cases where I have heard a certain family (or national) story so often it FEELS like a memory even if there is no possible way I could have been there?

I think that what we believe about our history - both personal and political DOES matter. Only by being willing to wrestle with truth and self deception can we ever fully come to terms with making sounder choices for our future, in our families and in the world.

(prints of the above painting of the Mayflower by Mike Haywood can be purchased HERE)