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diff --git a/old/60076-0.txt b/old/60076-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index df6dad9..0000000 --- a/old/60076-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,16752 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's An Englishwoman in Utah, by Mrs. T. B. H. Stenhouse - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: An Englishwoman in Utah - The Story of A Life's Experience in Mormonism - -Author: Mrs. T. B. H. Stenhouse - -Release Date: August 9, 2019 [EBook #60076] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN ENGLISHWOMAN IN UTAH *** - - - - -Produced by MFR and the Online Distributed Proofreading -Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from -images generously made available by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - - -[Illustration: Faithfully, yours, Fanny Stenhouse] - - - - - AN ENGLISHWOMAN IN UTAH: - THE STORY OF - _A Life’s Experience in Mormonism_. - - An Autobiography: - - BY - MRS. T. B. H. STENHOUSE, - OF SALT LAKE CITY, - FOR MORE THAN TWENTY-FIVE YEARS THE WIFE OF A MORMON MISSIONARY - AND ELDER. - - WITH INTRODUCTORY PREFACE BY MRS. HARRIET BEECHER STOWE. - - INCLUDING A FULL ACCOUNT OF - THE MOUNTAIN MEADOWS MASSACRE, - AND OF THE - LIFE, CONFESSION, AND EXECUTION OF BISHOP JOHN D. LEE. - - FULLY ILLUSTRATED. - - London: - SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEARLE, & RIVINGTON, - CROWN BUILDINGS, 188, FLEET STREET. - 1880. - - [_All rights reserved._] - - - - -TO MY CHILDREN; WITH ALL A MOTHER’S LOVE AND TENDERNESS, THIS VOLUME, THE -STORY OF MY LIFE’S EXPERIENCE, IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED. - - - - -PREFACE BY MRS. HARRIET BEECHER STOWE. - - -In these pages, a woman, a wife and mother, speaks the sorrows and -oppressions of which she has been the witness and the victim. - -It is because her sorrows and her oppressions are those of thousands, -who, suffering like her, cannot or dare not speak for themselves, that -she thus gives this history to the public. - -It is no sensational story, but a plain, unvarnished tale of truth, -stranger and sadder than fiction. - -Our day has seen a glorious breaking of fetters. The slave-pens of -the South have become a nightmare of the past; the auction-block and -whipping-post have given place to the church and school-house; and the -songs of emancipated millions are heard through our land. - -May we not then hope that the hour is come to loose the bonds of a cruel -slavery whose chains have cut into the very hearts of thousands of our -sisters—a slavery which debases and degrades womanhood, motherhood, and -the family? - -Let every happy wife and mother who reads these lines give her their -sympathy, prayers, and aid to free her sisters from this degrading -bondage. Let all the womanhood of the country stand united for them. -There is a power in combined enlightened sentiment and sympathy before -which every form of injustice and cruelty _must_ finally go down. - -May He who came to break every yoke hasten this deliverance! - - HARRIET BEECHER STOWE. - - - - -PREFACE. - - -In the fall of the year 1869, a few earnest, thinking men, members of -the Mormon Church, and living in Salt Lake City, inaugurated what was -regarded at the time as a grand schism. Those who had watched with -anxiety the progress of Mormonism, hailed the “New Movement” as the -harbinger of the work of disintegration so long anticipated by the -thoughtful-minded Saints, and believed that the opposition to Theocracy, -then begun, would continue until the extraordinary assumptions of the -Mormon priesthood were exploded, and Mormonism itself should lose its -political _status_ and find its place only among the singular sects of -the day. - -It was freely predicted that Woman, in her turn, would accept her part in -the work of reformation, take up the marriage question among the Saints, -and make an end of Polygamy. - -Little did I imagine, at that period, that any such mission as that which -I have since realized as mine, was in the Providence of Time awaiting -me, or that I should ever have the boldness, either with tongue or -pen, to plead the cause of the Women of Utah. But, impelled by those -unseen influences which shape our destinies, I took my stand with the -“heretics;” and, as it happened, my own was the first woman’s name -enrolled in their cause. - -The circumstances which wrought a change in my own life produced a -corresponding revolution in the life of my husband. - -In withdrawing from the Mormon Church, we laid ourselves, our -associations, and the labours of over twenty years, upon the altar, -and took up the burden of life anew. We had sacrificed everything in -obedience to the “counsel” of Brigham Young; and my husband, to give a -new direction to his mind, and also to form some plan for our future -life, thought it advisable that he should visit New York. He did so; -and shortly after employed himself in writing a history of the “Rocky -Mountain Saints,” which has since been published. - -In course of time, the burden of providing for a large family, and the -anxiety and care of conducting successfully a business among a people -who make it a religious duty to sternly set their faces against those -who dissent from their faith, exhausted my physical and mental strength. -Considering, therefore, that change might be beneficial to me, and my -own personal affairs urgently calling me to New York City, I followed my -husband thither. - -On my way East I met a highly-valued friend of my family, who, -in the course of our journey together over the Pacific Railroad, -enthusiastically urged me to tell the story of my past life, and to give -to the world what I knew about Polygamy. I had been repeatedly advised to -do so by friends at home, but up to that time no plan had been arranged -for carrying out the suggestion. - -I had hardly arrived in New York before the electric messenger announced -that a severe snow-storm was raging on the vast plains between the Rocky -Mountains and the Missouri River, and for several weeks all traffic over -the Union Pacific Railroad was interrupted, and I could not return to my -home in the distant West. - -That unlooked-for snow-blockade became seriously annoying; for not only -was I most anxious to return to my children, but also, never having known -an idle hour, I could not live without something to do. At that moment -of unsettled feeling, a lady-friend, with whom I was visiting, suggested -again “_the book_;” and she would not permit me to leave her house until -she had exacted from me a promise that it should be written. - -Next morning I began my task in earnest. I faithfully kept my room and -laboured unremittingly; and in three weeks the manuscript of my little -work on “Polygamy in Utah” was completed. It was very kindly welcomed -by the press—both secular and religious—and for this I was sincerely -grateful. I had not, up to that time, thought of much else than its -effect upon the people of Utah; but the voluminous notices which that -little book received showed the deep interest which the people of the -United States had taken in “the Mormon question,” and how ardently they -desired to see the extinction of the polygamic institution among the -Saints. - -In Salt Lake City I was so situated that I was daily—I might almost say -hourly—brought in contact with visitors to the Modern Zion; for, during -the summer, thousands of travellers pass over the Pacific Railroad. -Not a few of these called to see me; and I received from ladies and -gentlemen—whose kind interest in my welfare I felt very deeply—many -personal attentions, many words of sympathy and encouragement, and many -intelligent and useful suggestions in respect to my future life. Indeed, -I saw myself quite unexpectedly, and, I may truthfully say, without my -own desire, become an object of interest. - -By the earnest suggestions of friends and strangers, and by the -widely published opinions of the press, I was made to feel that I had -only _begun_ my work—that I had but partly drawn aside the veil that -covered the worst oppression and degradation of woman ever known in a -civilized country. Nearly all who spoke to me expressed their surprise -that intelligent men and women should be found in communion with the -Mormon Church, in which it was so clearly evident that the teachings of -Christianity had been supplanted by an attempt to imitate the barbarism -of Oriental nations in a long past age, and the sweet influences of the -religion of Jesus were superseded by the most objectionable practices of -the ancient Jews. How persons of education and refinement could ever have -embraced a faith that prostrated them at the feet of the Mormon Prophet, -and his successor Brigham Young, was to the inquiring mind a perfect -mystery. - -The numerous questions which I had to answer, and the explanations -which I had to give, showed me that my little book had only whetted the -appetite of the intelligent investigator, and that there was a general -call for _a woman’s book_ on Mormonism—a book that should reveal _the -inner life_ of the Saints,—exhibit the influences which had contributed -to draw Christian people away from Christian Churches to the standard -of the American Prophet, Joseph Smith, and subject them to the power of -that organization which has, since his death, subjugated the mass of the -Mormon people in Utah to the will and wickedness of the Priesthood under -the leadership of Brigham Young. - -A few months after the publication of my first book, I was invited to -lecture upon “Polygamy in Utah;” and wherever I spoke I observed the same -spirit of inquiry, and met with a renewed demand for more of circumstance -and narrative—which I had, from a sense of personal delicacy, withheld in -my former work. - -I saw no way of satisfying myself and others than by accepting the -rather spiteful invitation of a certain Mormon paper to “TELL IT ALL;” -and this, in a narrative of my own personal experience, which I now -present to the reader, I have endeavoured to do. Not being in any sense -a literary woman, or making any pretensions as a writer, I hope to -escape severe criticism from the public and the press. I had a simple -story to tell—the story of my life and of the wrongs of women in Utah. -Startling and terrible facts have fallen under my observation. These also -I have related; but my constant effort has been to tell my story in the -plainest, simplest way, and, while avoiding exaggeration, never to shrink -from a straightforward statement of facts. I have disguised nothing, and -palliated nothing; and I feel assured that those who from their actual -and intimate acquaintance with Mormonism in Utah as it really is, are -capable of passing a just and impartial judgment upon my story, will -declare without hesitation that I have told “_the truth, the whole truth -and nothing but the truth_.” - - FANNY STENHOUSE. - - SALT LAKE CITY, UTAH. - - - - -CONTENTS. - - - CHAP. PAGE - - I. MY EARLY LIFE 1 - - II. MY FIRST INTRODUCTION TO MORMONISM 7 - - III. THE LABOUR OF MY LIFE BEGUN—HOW THE MORMON MISSIONARIES - MADE CONVERTS 16 - - IV. LIFE AMONG THE SAINTS—MY NEW ENGAGEMENTS 25 - - V. THE FIRST WHISPERINGS OF POLYGAMY 33 - - VI. MY HUSBAND’S MISSION—I AM LEFT ALONE 41 - - VII. OUR MISSION IN SWITZERLAND—MUTTERINGS OF THE COMING - STORM 56 - - VIII. THE REVELATION ON “CELESTIAL MARRIAGE” 67 - - IX. MISSIONARY WORK—TEACHING POLYGAMY 76 - - X. MORMONISM IN ENGLAND—PREPARING TO EMIGRATE 86 - - XI. EMIGRATING TO ZION—WE ARRIVE IN NEW YORK 97 - - XII. LIFE IN NEW YORK—CONDUCTING A MORMON PAPER 103 - - XIII. SAINTLY PILGRIMS ON THE WAY—THE “DIVINE” HAND-CART - SCHEME 111 - - XIV. A TERRIBLE STORY—THE HAND-CART EMIGRANTS CROSSING THE - PLAINS 123 - - XV. MARY BURTON’S STORY CONTINUED—TERRIBLE ENDING OF THE - HAND-CART SCHEME 132 - - XVI. WE FORSAKE ALL, AND SET OUT FOR ZION—OUR JOURNEY - ACROSS THE PLAINS 145 - - XVII. MY FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF THE CITY OF THE SAINTS 152 - - XVIII. BRIGHAM YOUNG AT HOME—WE VISIT THE PROPHET AND HIS - WIVES 163 - - XIX. THE WIVES OF BRIGHAM YOUNG—THEIR HISTORY AND THEIR - DAILY LIFE 168 - - XX. WAYS AND WORKS OF THE SAINTS—THE PROPHET’S MILLINERY - BILL 179 - - XXI. MYSTERIES OF THE ENDOWMENT HOUSE—FEARFUL OATHS AND - SECRET CEREMONIES 189 - - XXII. SECRETS OF SAINTLY SPOUSES—A VISIT FROM MY TALKATIVE - FRIEND 202 - - XXIII. SOCIAL LIFE IN SALT LAKE CITY—BALL-ROOMS, - “WALL-FLOWERS,” AND DIVORCE 209 - - XXIV. THE ORIGIN OF “THE REFORMATION”—EXTRAORDINARY DOINGS OF - THE SAINTS 224 - - XXV. THE “REIGN OF TERROR” IN UTAH—THE REFORMATION OF THE - SAINTS 235 - - XXVI. THE MOUNTAIN MEADOWS MASSACRE—“I WILL REPAY, SAITH - THE LORD” 247 - - XXVII. WHAT WOMEN SUFFER IN POLYGAMY—THE STORY OF MARY BURTON 259 - - XXVIII. HOW MARRIAGES ARE MADE IN UTAH—A NEW WIFE FOUND FOR - MY HUSBAND 268 - - XXIX. TAKING A SECOND WIFE—THE EXPERIENCE OF THE FIRST 278 - - XXX. TRIALS—THE SECOND WIFE CHOSEN—SHADOWS OF LIFE 285 - - XXXI. MARRIAGE FOR THE DEAD—ENTERING INTO POLYGAMY—THE NEW - WIFE 293 - - XXXII. DOMESTIC ARRANGEMENTS OF THE SAINTS—POLYGAMY FROM A - WOMAN’S STANDPOINT 299 - - XXXIII. LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF POLYGAMY—MARRIAGE AND BAPTISM - FOR THE DEAD 306 - - XXXIV. MY DAUGHTER BECOMES THE FOURTH WIFE OF BRIGHAM YOUNG’S - SON—THE SECOND ENDOWMENTS 314 - - XXXV. REALITIES OF POLYGAMIC LIFE—ORSON PRATT: THE STORY OF - HIS YOUNG ENGLISH WIFE 323 - - XXXVI. “OUR” HUSBAND’S FIANCÉE—A SECOND WIFE’S SORROWS—STEPS - TOWARDS APOSTASY 331 - - XXXVII. SOME CURIOUS COURTSHIPS—BRIGHAM RUINS OUR - FORTUNES—BELINDA DIVORCES “OUR” HUSBAND 340 - - XXXVIII. MARY BURTON—LIFE’S JOURNEY ENDED: REST AT LAST 347 - - XXXIX. MY HUSBAND DISFELLOWSHIPPED—WE APOSTATIZE—BRUTAL - OUTRAGE UPON MY HUSBAND AND MYSELF 357 - - XL. AMUSING TROUBLES OF MY TALKATIVE FRIEND—CHARLOTTE WITH - THE GOLDEN HAIR 361 - - XLI. AFTER WE LEFT THE CHURCH—INTERESTING FACTS AND - FIGURES—MORMONISM AND MORMONS OF TO-DAY 363 - - L’ENVOI 377 - - POSTSCRIPT 380 - - XLIV. MOUNTAIN MEADOWS MASSACRE—COMPLETE CONFESSION OF - BISHOP JOHN D. LEE 384 - - KILLING A RIVAL PROPHET 398 - - - - -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. - - - 1. Steel-plate Portrait of the Author _Frontispiece_ - - 2. Steel-plate Portrait of Brigham Young _To face_ - - 3. “Gathering to Zion”—Life on the Plains 125 - - 4. Over at Last 136 - - 5. View of Main Street, Salt Lake City (_From a Photograph_) 148 - The Ladies’ Side of Mormonism. - - 6. Amelia Folsom Young, Brigham’s Favourite Wife 168 - - 7. “Ann Eliza,” Brigham’s Nineteenth Wife 168 - - 8. Miss Eliza R. Snow, Mormon Poetess and High Priestess 168 - - 9. Mrs. John W. Young, Wife of Brigham’s Apostate Son 168 - - 10. Brother Brigham’s Last Baby 168 - - 11. Scene of the Mountain Meadows Massacre 255 - - 12. The Crisis of a Life—Entering into Polygamy 296 - - 13. Polygamy in Low Life—The Poor Man’s Family 302 - - 14. Polygamy in High Life—The Prophet’s Mansion 302 - - 15. Despair! 326 - - 16. Fac-simile of a Mormon “Bill of Divorce” 344 - - - - -AN ENGLISHWOMAN IN UTAH. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -MY EARLY LIFE. - - -The story which I propose to tell in these pages is a plain, -unexaggerated record of facts which have come immediately under my own -notice, or which I have myself personally experienced. - -Much that to the reader may seem altogether incredible, would to a -Mormon mind appear simply a matter of ordinary every-day occurrence -with which every one in Utah is supposed to be perfectly familiar. The -reader must please remember that I am not telling—as so many writers have -told in newspaper correspondence and sensational stories—the hasty and -incorrect statements and opinions gleaned during a short visit to Salt -Lake City; but my own experience—the story of a faith, strange, wild, -and terrible it may be, but which was once so intimately enwoven with -all my associations that it became a part of my very existence itself; -and facts, the too true reality of which there are living witnesses by -hundreds, and even thousands, who could attest if only they would. - -With the reader’s permission I shall briefly sketch my experience from -the very beginning. - -I was born in the year 1829, in St. Heliers, Jersey—one of the islands of -the English Channel. - -From my earliest recollection I was favourably disposed to religious -influences, and when only fourteen years of age I became a member of the -Baptist Church, of which my father and mother were also members. With the -simplicity and enthusiasm of youth I was devoted to the religious faith -of the denomination to which I had attached myself, and sought to live in -a manner which should be acceptable to God. - -My childhood passed away without the occurrence of any events which -would be worthy of mention, although, of course, my mind was even then -receiving that religious bias which afterwards led me to adopt the faith -of the Latter-day Saints. Like most girls in their teens I had a natural -love of dress—a weakness, if such it be, of the sex generally. I was -not extravagant, for that I could not be; but thirty years ago members -of dissenting churches were more staid in their dress and demeanour and -were less of the world, I think, than they are to-day. In plainness of -dress the Methodists and Baptists much resembled the Quakers. My girlish -weakness caused me to be the subject of many a reprimand from older -church-members who were rather strict in their views. I well remember -one smooth-faced, pious, corpulent brother, who was old enough to be my -father, saying to me one day: “My dear young sister, were it not for your -love of dress, I have seriously thought that I would some day make you my -wife.” I wickedly resolved that if a few bright coloured ribbons would -disgust my pious admirer, it should not be my fault if he still continued -to think of me. But many of our other church-members were more lenient. -Our good minister in particular bore with my imperfections, as he said, -on account of my youth and inexperience; and later still, when I was -ready to leave my native island, an extra ribbon or a fashionable dress -had not affected my standing in the Baptist denomination. - -I mention these trifles, not because I attach any importance to them in -themselves, but because similar religious tendencies and a devotional -feeling were almost universally found to be the causes which induced -men and women to join the Mormon Church. From among Roman Catholics, -who place unquestioning confidence in their priesthood, and also from -among persons predisposed to infidelity, came few, if any, converts -to Mormonism. But it was from among the religiously inclined, the -Evangelical Protestants of the Old World, that the greater number of -proselytes came. - -But to return to my story. I was one of the younger members of a large -family; and when I thought of the future I readily saw that if I desired -a position in life I should have to make it for myself; and this I -resolved to do. I began by consulting all my friends who I thought would -be able to counsel or assist me in carrying out my determination; and -before long I found the opportunity which I sought. An English lady, -the wife of a captain in the British army, to whom I had confided my -aspirations, proposed—although I was not yet fifteen years of age—to -take me with her to France, in the temporary capacity of governess, to -her children, assuring me at the same time that she would advance my -interests in every possible way after our arrival. - -This lady and her husband were as kind to me as my own parents could -have been; and soon after our arrival in France they procured for -me a situation in one of the best schools in St. Brieux, called the -Maison-Martin, where, young as I was, I engaged myself to teach the young -ladies fancy-needlework and embroidery, as well as to give lessons in -English. Some of the elder girls, I soon found, were further advanced -in fancy-needlework and some other matters than I was myself. This, of -course, I did not tell them; but to supply my deficiency I spent many -a midnight hour in study and in preparing myself to give the advanced -instructions which would be required by my pupils on the following day. -For some time after I began my work as teacher in that school, I spent -the whole of my salary in paying for private lessons to keep me in -advance of my pupils. It was for awhile a severe task and a strain upon -my youthful energies; but I have never since regretted it, as it gave an -impulse to my mind that has remained with me through life. - -I had not been more than six months in my situation when the parents of -one of the pupils objected to the school retaining a Protestant teacher, -and I was consequently given to understand that unless I consented to -be instructed, if nothing more, in the Roman Catholic faith, I could -not remain in my present position. This was my first experience of that -religious intolerance of which I afterwards saw so much. The principal -of the establishment, however, being very kindly disposed towards me, -advised me to submit, and it was finally agreed that I should be allowed -twelve months for instruction and consideration. - -During this probationary year I attended mass every morning from seven to -eight o’clock, and was present at vespers at least three times a week. -Every Saturday morning I accompanied my pupils to the confessional, where -I had to remain from seven o’clock till noon; after which we returned -to breakfast. On Sundays there was the usual morning mass, and after -that high mass; and in the afternoon, from two to four, we listened to -a sermon. In addition to all these services, at which I was expected to -“assist,” a very good-looking, interesting young priest was appointed -to attend to the spiritual instruction of the young Protestant, as -they called me, after school hours. He saw me frequently, but he was -ill-qualified to instruct me in the Catholic faith or to remove my -doubts, for he was not himself too happy in the sacerdotal robe. At first -he aimed at convincing me that the apostolic priesthood vested in the -fishermen of Galilee had descended in unbroken succession in the Church -of Rome; but he seemed to me much more inclined for a flirtation than for -argument; I thought I could at times discover something of regret on his -own part at having taken holy orders; and in after years I heard that he -had abandoned his profession. - -To the numerous stories of Catholic oppression and artifice in -undermining Protestants and seducing them from their faith, I cannot add -my own testimony. Those among whom I lived very naturally desired that -I should be instructed in their religion, and join the church to which -they belonged; but their bearing towards me was ever kind and respectful; -although when the twelve months of probation had expired, I found myself -as much attached to the religion of my childhood as ever, and had in -consequence to resign my situation. I had made many warm friends in the -school, and none were kinder to me than the principal, who proved her -attachment by finding for me a lucrative situation in a wealthy private -family. - -My new position was a decided advance in social life. The family -consisted of husband and wife, two children, the husband’s brother, and -an elderly uncle. The little girls were, when I first knew them, of the -ages of five and seven years respectively. The young gentleman alluded -to—the husband’s brother—had been educated for the church, but when -the proper time came had refused to take orders; the uncle was a fine -old gentleman, a retired general in the French army, and a bachelor. -Altogether they formed as happy a domestic circle as I had ever known. -The position which I occupied among them was that of governess and -English teacher to the two little girls. - -My young charges during the first year made rapid progress, which was -very gratifying to the family, and secured for me their good-will and -interest. Had I been their nearest relative I could not have received -more respect and consideration from them. One member of the circle alone -seemed to be entirely indifferent to my presence; this was the brother of -Monsieur D——. Though I had lived in the same house with him a whole year, -and had sat at the same table every day, scarcely a word had ever passed -between us beyond a formal salutation. - -The young gentleman was very handsome, and when conversing with -others his manner was extremely fascinating. I did not believe that I -particularly desired his attentions, but his indifference annoyed me—for -I had never before been treated with such coldness, and I determined to -become as frigid and formal as he could possibly be himself. This formal -acquaintanceship continued for two years, and I persuaded myself that I -had become altogether indifferent to the presence of my icicle, while -at the same time all the other members of the family increased in their -manifestations of attachment to me. - -But trifles often possess a great significance. It was the custom of the -family to get up a little lottery once a week for the children, if my -report of their deportment and progress was favourable. In this lottery -were presents of books, toys, gloves, and a variety of fancy articles, -and among them there was sure to be a _bouquet_ of choice flowers for -“Mademoiselle-Miss,” as they familiarly called me. I knew not positively -whom to thank, although I instinctively felt from whom they came, for the -other members of the family always made me more useful presents. In time -one little attention led to another, until at the end of three years I -found myself the _fiancée_ of the wealthy Constant D——. - -Madame D—— was opposed to my marriage with her brother-in-law, as she -desired that he should marry one of her own wealthy cousins of the -old _noblesse_ of France. She treated me, notwithstanding, with great -kindness, and confined her opposition to persuading me not to listen to -her brother’s suit; but finding opposition to his wishes ineffectual, she -finally consented to our engagement, which took place in the following -winter. - -From what I observed of the relations which existed between husbands -and wives in France, I did not feel perfectly happy in the thought of -becoming the wife of a Frenchman, although I dearly loved the French -people. Several of my young lady acquaintances, I knew, had married -because it was fashionable, and especially because it was an emancipation -from what ladies in the higher ranks of society regarded as a severe -social restraint. It was considered shocking for any young lady to be -seen talking to a young gentleman in the street; indeed it was hardly -proper for any unmarried girl to be seen in the street at all without a -_bonne_ or some married lady to accompany her. But immediately she was -married she was at liberty to flirt and promenade with all the gentlemen -of her acquaintance, while her husband enjoyed the same liberty among the -ladies. This state of affairs did not at all coincide with my English -ideas, for to me the very thought of marriage was invested with the most -sacred obligations, and I knew I should never be able to bring my mind to -accept less from my husband than I should feel it my duty to render to -him. - -I loved the French people, and was pleased with their polite mannerism, -but I was not French in character; and though the prospect before me of -an alliance with a wealthy and noble family was certainly pleasant, and -I was greatly attached to my _fiancé_, my mind was considerably agitated -upon the subject of marriage, as it had before been occupied with -religion. - -During my sojourn in France I had frequently questioned myself whether -I had not done wrong in remaining absent for so many years from my home -and from communion with the church of my childhood, and I had always -looked forward to the time when I should return to them again. To this -occasional self-examination was now added another cause of anxiety, -produced by the thought of marriage with a person of a different faith. -Marriage, to me, was the all-important event in a woman’s life, and some -mysterious presentiment seemed to forewarn me that marriage in _my_ life -was to be more than an ordinary episode—though little did I then dream -that it would have a polygamic shaping. - -My young ambition alone had led me to France. I had aspired to an -honourable social position, and had found both it and also devoted -friends. Sometimes I felt that I could not relinquish what I had gained; -at other times I yearned for the associations of my childhood and the -guiding hand of earlier friends. The conflict in my mind was often -painful. My early prejudices and the teachings of those around me induced -me to believe that the Roman Catholic religion was entirely wrong; yet, -notwithstanding, while living among Catholics I saw nothing to condemn -in their personal lives, but much to the contrary. In fact, Romanism -fascinated me, while it failed to convince my judgment. - -While labouring under these conflicting sentiments, I resolved to -visit my native land, to consult with my parents about my contemplated -marriage; and for that purpose I asked and obtained two months’ vacation. -Surely some mysterious destiny must have been drawing me to England at -that particular crisis, and before the fulfilling of my engagement, which -would have changed so entirely the whole current of my existence. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -MY FIRST INTRODUCTION TO MORMONISM. - - -During my residence in France, my parents had left St. Heliers and -returned to Southampton, England. To visit them now I had to take a -sailing vessel from Portrieux to the Isle of Jersey, and thence I could -take the steamer to Southampton. - -Monsieur and Madame D——, together with the two little girls, accompanied -me in their private carriage to Portrieux, a distance of forty miles, in -order to confide me safely to the captain’s care. As they wished me “_bon -voyage_” and embraced me affectionately, Mons. D—— handed me a valuable -purse for pocket-money during my absence, and they all exhibited great -anxiety for my welfare, saying over and over again _au revoir_, as they -entered their carriage to return to their happy home;—thereby implying -that this was not a final _adieu_, but that we should soon meet again. - -I cannot tell why it was, but I experienced at that moment a painful -feeling of mental indecision about the future. I had no real reason to -doubt my return to France, and the certainty of a warm welcome when I -should again greet those dear ones who were now leaving me in tears; but -my mind was troubled by a vague feeling of uncertainty which made me -anything but happy. Filial affection and a sense of duty drew me towards -my parents in England; while a feeling of gratitude, and, I think, -another and more tender sentiment, turned the current of my thoughts -towards the happy home at St. Brieux. - -It was not necessary for me to stop in Jersey for more than a few hours, -but I wanted to revisit the scenes of my childhood’s happy days, and to -speak again with those whom I had known and loved in early life. In later -years the scenes and memories of childhood seem like the imaginings of -a pleasant dream. A sweet charm is thrown around all that we then said -and did; and the men and women who then were known to us are pictured -in our recollection as beings possessing charms and graces such as never -belonged to the common-place children of earth. The glamour of a fairy -wand is over all the past history of mankind; but upon nothing does it -cast so potent a spell as upon the personal reminiscences of our own -infant years. To me that little island had charms which no stranger -could ever have discovered; and even now, after the lapse of so many -long, eventful years I often feel an earnest wish to visit again those -rock-bound shores, to listen to the everlasting murmur of the wild, wild -waves, to watch the distant speck-like vessels far away upon the swelling -ocean, and to drink in the invigorating breezes which seem to give life -and energy to every pulsation of the living soul. - -But I must not theorize: life has been to me too earnest and too painful -to admit of much sentiment or fancy as I recall the past. Little as I -thought it, during the short visit which I paid to my birthplace the web -of destiny was being woven for me in a way which I could not then have -conjectured even in a dream. - -At St. Heliers I heard for the first time of the Latter-day Saints, or -Mormonites, as they were more familiarly called; but I cannot express -how perfectly astonished I was when I learned that my father, mother, -sisters, and one of my brothers had been converted to the new faith. - -It was my own brother-in-law who told me this. He himself, with my -sister, were “Apostate” Mormons. They had been baptized into the Mormon -Church, but became dissatisfied, and abandoned it. The St. Heliers branch -of the Latter-day Saints had had a turbulent experience. Their first -teachings had been a mixture of Bible texts about the last days, and -arguments about the millennium, the return of the Jews to Palestine, the -resurrection of the dead, and a new revelation and a new prophet; but -the improper conduct of some of the elders had disgusted the people with -their doctrines, and the tales of wickedness which I heard were, if true, -certainly sufficient to justify them in rejecting such instructors. - -The more I heard of this strange religion the more I was troubled; yet, -as I knew my parents were devoted Christians, I could hardly believe -that Mormonism was such a vile delusion and imposture as it had been -represented to me, or they would never have accepted it: still it was -possible that they had been led astray by the fascinations of a new -religion. - -In this state of mind I met in the street the wife of the Baptist -minister whom I have already mentioned. She greeted me affectionately and -then began at once to warn me against the Latter-day Saints. I inquired -what she knew of them; and she replied that personally she knew nothing, -but she believed them to be servants of the Evil One, adding, “There is -a strange power with them that fascinates the people and draws them into -their meshes in spite of themselves. Let me entreat you not to go near -them. Do not trust yourself at one of their meetings, or the delusion -will take hold of _you_ too.” - -“I cannot ignore Mormonism in this way,” I said, “or pass it by with -indifference; for my parents whom I tenderly love have been blinded -by this delusion, and I can do no less than investigate its teachings -thoroughly, and if I find it false, expose its errors, and, if possible, -save my father’s family from ruin.” - -She was not convinced that this was the wisest course for me to pursue, -but I resolved at once to attend a meeting of the Saints and judge for -myself. My brother-in-law, when he heard of my intentions, tried to -dissuade me, but, finding me determined, finally offered to escort me to -the meeting-place. - -What I heard on this occasion made a great impression on my mind, and set -me thinking as I had never thought before. On returning to my sister’s -house she asked me what opinion I had now formed of the Latter-day -Saints. I replied that I had not yet formed any conclusion, but that what -I had heard had given me serious cause for reflection. “Oh,” she said, -“you have caught the Mormon fever, I see.” - -I felt a disposition to resent this implication, but I was half afraid -that, after all, my sister was right. Much that I had heard could, I -knew, be proved true from Scripture; and the rest seemed to me to be -capable of demonstration from the same authority. I resolved, however, to -fortify myself against a too easy credulity, and thought that probably if -I heard more of these doctrines I might be able to discover their falsity. - -On the following day, the elder who had preached at the meeting, and who, -by the way, is one of the present proprietors of the Salt Lake _Herald_, -called to see me, as he had been intimate with my parents before they -left the island. I hardly knew how to be civil to him, though he had done -nothing to offend me, nor had he been the cause of my parents entering -the Mormon Church; but I disliked him solely on account of the stories -which I had heard about the Mormons. Intending only to be kind to me, he -told me that on the following day he proposed to take the steamer for -Southampton, as he was going to attend a conference of the Saints in -London, and that he should be pleased to show me any attentions while -crossing the Channel, and would see me safe home in England. I confess -I really felt insulted at a Mormon Elder offering to be my escort; -and although my trunks were ready packed for my departure by the same -steamer, and Mr. Dunbar knew it, I thanked him politely, but said I would -not go by that boat. He tried to persuade me to change my mind, and said -that I should have to wait a whole week for another vessel; and at last -I frankly told him the abhorrence I felt at the things I had heard about -the Mormons, and that I should be afraid to travel in the same steamer -with him or any of the Mormon Elders whom I regarded as no better than -so many whited sepulchres. He, however, very kindly took no offence, for -he knew that I had been listening to those who disliked the Saints. I -felt ashamed at having been betrayed into such unladylike rudeness, but, -notwithstanding, tried to persuade myself that his civility was, after -all, an insult; for I had conceived a detestation of every Mormon, on -account of the deception which I felt sure had been practised upon my -family. - -This feeling was not lessened by the consciousness that an impression had -been made upon my own mind. The more in accordance with Scripture the -teaching of the Elders appeared, the more firmly I believed it must be a -powerful delusion. Here, I said, Satan has indeed taken the form of an -angel of light to deceive, if possible, the very elect. - -Elder Dunbar, finding me unyielding, left by the next steamer, and had a -pleasant passage across the Channel, and I remained on the island another -week. During that interval my mind was haunted with what I had heard of -this new gospel dispensation, as it was called. That angels had again -descended from heaven to teach man upon earth; that a prophet had been -raised up to speak again the mind of the Lord to the children of men; -that the Saints were partakers of the gifts of the Spirit, as in the -Early Christian Church,—all these assumed facts took the form of reality, -and came back into my mind with greater force every time I strove to -drive them away; just as our thoughts do when we desire to sleep, and -cannot—our very efforts to dismiss them bring them back with greater -force to torment us. - -We had an unusually bad passage across the Channel, which annoyed me all -the more when I remembered my scornful refusal to go in the same boat -with Elder Dunbar. - -On my arrival in Southampton I soon discovered that my father, mother, -and sisters were full of the spirit of Mormonism. They were rejoicing in -it, ardently believing that it was the fulness of the everlasting gospel, -as the Elders styled it; and whatever I might think of the new religion, -I was forced to confess that it brought into my father’s house peace, -love, kindness, and charity such as were seldom seen in many households -of religious people. My sisters were completely changed in their manner -of life. They cared I nothing for the amusements which girls of their age -usually crave and enjoy. Their whole thoughts seemed to be occupied with -the Church, attending the meetings of the Saints, and employing every -leisure hour in preparing comforts for the Elders who were travelling and -preaching without purse and scrip. And in all this they were as happy as -children. - -Of my parents I might say the same. My dear mother rejoiced in the belief -that she had been peculiarly blessed in being privileged to live at a -time when “the last dispensation” was revealed; and my father, though -an invalid, rejoiced that he had entered into the kingdom by baptism. -Such was the condition of my father’s house; and who can wonder that, -accustomed as I was to listen with respect to the opinions of my parents, -I was more than ever troubled about the new religion which they had -adopted? - -The first Sunday morning that I was in England, my parents asked me to -accompany them to meeting, and I readily complied, as I wanted to hear -more of the strange doctrines which in some mysterious way had made our -family so happy, but which in other quarters had provoked such bitter -hostility. I know _now_ that this joyousness of heart is not peculiar to -new converts to Mormonism, but may be found among the newly-converted -of every sect which allows the emotional feelings to come into play. -To me, at the time, however, it was a mystery, but I must confess that -the change which had taken place in those nearest and dearest to me, -affecting me personally, and being so evidently in accordance with the -teachings of the Saviour, led me to regard Mormonism with less antipathy. -The bright side alone of the new faith was presented to the world abroad; -we had yet to go to Utah and witness the effects of Brigham Young’s -teachings at home before we could know what Mormonism really was. - -I shall never forget the trial it was to my pride to enter the dirty, -mean-looking room where the Saints assembled at that time. No one would -rent a respectable hall to them, and they were glad to obtain the use -of any place which was large enough for their meetings. On the present -occasion there was a very fair gathering of people, who had come together -influenced by the most varied motives. The Presiding Elder—I should here -remark that the word “Elder” has among the Mormons no reference whatever -to age, but is simply a rank in the priesthood—called the meeting to -order, and read the following hymn: - - The morning breaks, the shadows flee; - Lo! Zion’s standard is unfurl’d! - The dawning of a brighter day - Majestic rises on the world. - - The clouds of error disappear - Before the rays of truth divine; - The glory bursting from afar, - Wide o’er the nations soon will shine! - - The Gentile fulness now comes in, - And Israel’s blessings are at hand; - Lo! Judah’s remnant, cleansed from sin, - Shall in the promised Canaan stand. - - Angels from heaven and truth from earth - Have met, and both have record borne; - Thus Zion’s light is bursting forth - To bring her ransom’d children home. - -Every word of this hymn had a meaning peculiar to itself, relating to the -distinctive doctrines of the Saints. The congregation sang with an energy -and enthusiasm which made the room shake again. Self and the outer world -were alike forgotten, and an ecstasy of rapture seemed to possess the -souls of all present. Then all kneeled down, and prayer was offered for -the Prophet, the apostles, high-priests, “seventies,” elders, priests, -teachers, and deacons; blessings were invoked upon the Saints, and power -to convert the Gentiles; and as the earnest words of supplication left -the speaker’s lips, the congregation shouted a loud “Amen.” - -There was no prepared sermon. There never is at a Mormon meeting. The -people are taught that the Holy Ghost is “mouth, matter, and wisdom.” -Whatever the preaching Elder may say is supposed to come directly by -inspiration from heaven, and the Saints listening, as they believe, not -to his utterances but to the words of God Himself, have nothing to do but -to hear and obey. - -The first speaker on this occasion was a young gentleman of respectable -family, who had been recently baptized and ordained. He, too, was from -St. Heliers, and I had known him from childhood. His address impressed me -very much. He had been a member of the Baptist church, and he related his -experience, told how often he had wondered why there were not inspired -men to preach the glad tidings of salvation to the world to-day, as there -were eighteen centuries ago. He spoke of the joy which he had experienced -in being baptized into the Mormon Church and realizing that he had -received the “gift of the Holy Ghost.” The simplicity with which he -spoke, his evident honesty, and the sacrifice he had made in leaving the -respectable Baptists and joining the despised Mormons, were, I thought, -so many evidences of his sincerity. - -Alas! how little could that young preacher conjecture how different the -practical Mormonism in Utah was from the theoretical Mormonism which -he had learned to believe in Europe, before polygamy was known among -the Saints. A short time afterwards he gave up his business, married -an accomplished young lady, and went with her to Salt Lake City. There -they were soon utterly disgusted with what they witnessed, apostatized, -and set out for England. When they had gone three-fourths of their way -back to the Missouri river, the young man, his wife, child, and another -apostate and his wife, were killed by “Indians:”—such, at least, was the -report; but dissenting Mormons have always charged their “taking off” to -the order of the leaders of the Mormon Church. - -But to return to the meeting. The reader must please forgive me if I -dwell a little upon the events of that particular morning, for naturally -they made a deep impression upon my own mind—it was there that I saw for -the first time my husband who was to be. - -I had heard a good deal about a certain Elder, from my family and from -the Saints who visited at our house. They spoke with great enthusiasm of -the earnestness with which he preached, of the effect which his addresses -produced, and of his confidence in the final triumph of “the kingdom.” - -At that time—the summer of 1849—although the branch of the Mormon Church -in Britain was in a most flourishing condition, there were not in England -more than two or three American Elders preaching the faith, for when—two -years before the period of which I speak—the Saints left Nauvoo and -undertook that most extraordinary exodus across the plains to the Rocky -Mountains, the missionary Elders were all called home, and the work of -proselytizing in Europe was left entirely to the native Elders. To direct -their labours there was placed over them an American elder named Orson -Spencer, a graduate of Dartmouth University, a scholar and a gentleman—a -man well calculated from his previous Christian education to give an -elevated tone to the teachings of the young English missionaries. - -Mormonism in England then, had no resemblance to the Mormonism of Utah -to-day. The Mormons were then simply an earnest religious people, in -many respects like the Methodists, especially in their missionary zeal -and fervour of spirit. The Mormon Church abroad was purely a religious -institution, and Mormonism was preached by the Elders as the gospel -of Christianity restored. The Church had no political shaping nor the -remotest antagonism to the civil power. The name of Joseph Smith was -seldom spoken, and still more seldom was heard the name of Brigham Young, -and then only so far as they had reference to the Church of the Saints. - -About eighteen months before I visited Southampton, one of these -missionaries had come into that town, “without purse or scrip.” He was -quite a young man and almost penniless, but he was rich in faith and -overflowing with zeal. He knew no one there; and homeless, and frequently -hungry, he continued his labours. Of fasting he knew much, of feasting -nothing. He first preached under the branches of a spreading beech-tree -in a public park, and when more favoured he held forth in a school-room -or public hall. He had come to convert the people to Mormonism, or he -was going to die among them; and before such zeal and determination, -discouragements, of course, soon vanished away. He troubled the ministers -of other dissenting churches when they found him distributing tracts and -talking to their people. He was sowing broadcast dissatisfaction and -discontent wherever he could get any one to listen to him, and thus he -drew down upon himself the eloquence of the dissenting pulpits and the -derision of the local press. But the more they attacked him the more -zealously did he labour, and defied his opponents to public discussion. -Mormonism was bold then in Europe—it had no American history to meet in -those days. - -This, and a great deal more, I had heard discussed in glowing language -by my relatives and friends; and thus the young missionary—Elder -Stenhouse—was, by name, no stranger to me. - -It was Elder Stenhouse who now addressed the meeting, and I listened to -him with attention. The reader must remember that at that time polygamy -was unheard of as a doctrine of the Saints, and the blood-atonement, the -doctrine that Adam is God, together with the polytheism and priestly -theocracy of after-years, were things undreamed of. The saving love of -Christ, the glory and fulness of the everlasting Gospel, the gifts and -graces of the Spirit, together with repentance, baptism, and faith, were -the points upon which the Mormon teachers touched; and who can wonder -that with such topics as these, and fortifying every statement with -powerful and numerous texts of Scripture, they should captivate the minds -of religiously inclined people? However this may be, I can only confess -that, as I listened to Elder Stenhouse’s earnest discourse, I felt my -antipathy to Mormonism rapidly melting away. - -At the close of the service, when he left the platform, he was warmly -received by the brethren and sisters, for so the Saints speak of one -another, and they came about him to shake hands, or it might be to seize -the opportunity of slipping a trifle into his hand to help him in his -work. Young and old, the poor and their more wealthy neighbours, mingled -together like one happy family. It was altogether a most pleasing scene; -and, whatever explanation may yet be given to Mormonism in America, one -thing I know—the facts of its early history in Europe are among the most -pleasant reminiscences of my life. - -Elder Stenhouse came up in a familiar and open-hearted way to my mother -and sisters, and I was introduced to him as “the other daughter from -France.” He kindly welcomed me, and when I frankly told him the state of -my mind, he made, I must admit, a successful attempt to solve my doubts, -and when I left the meeting it was with sentiments towards the Saints -and their religion far different from those which I entertained when I -entered. - -This meeting was a memorable era in my life. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -THE LABOUR OF MY LIFE BEGUN:—HOW THE MORMON MISSIONARIES MADE CONVERTS. - - -In the afternoon I attended a meeting of a still more interesting -character. These Sunday afternoon meetings were held for the purpose -of receiving the sacrament, and the confirmation of those who had been -baptized during the week; they were intended exclusively for the Saints, -but for certain reasons I was permitted to be present. - -The meeting was opened with singing and prayer, and then the presiding -Elder—Brother Cowdy—arose, and invited all those who had been baptized -during the week to come to the front seats. Several ladies and gentlemen -came forward, and also three little children. Upon inquiry I found that -children of eight years of age were admitted members of the Church by -baptism—which is administered by immersion. At that age they are supposed -to understand what they are doing; but before that, if of Mormon parents, -they are considered members of the Church by virtue of the blessing which -they received in infancy. Brother Cowdy—the presiding’ Elder—then called -upon two other Elders to assist him in the confirmation. - -One of the ladies took off her bonnet, but retained her seat, when all -three of the Elders placed their hands upon her head, and one of them -said:— - -“Martha; by virtue of the authority vested in us, we confirm you a member -of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints; and as you have been -obedient to the teachings of the Elders, and have gone down into the -waters of baptism for the remission of your sins, we confer upon you the -Gift of the Holy Ghost, that it may abide with you for ever, and be a -lamp unto your feet, and a light upon your pathway, leading and guiding -you into all truth. This blessing we confirm upon your head, in the name -of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.” - -Then, before they took their hands off her head, the presiding Elder -asked the other two if they wished to say anything. Whereupon one of them -began to invoke a blessing upon the newly-confirmed sister. He spoke for -some time with extreme earnestness, when suddenly he was seized with -a nervous trembling which was quite perceptible, and which evidently -betokened intense mental or physical excitement. He began to prophecy -great things for this sister in the future, and in solemn and mysterious -language proclaimed the wonders which God would perform for her sake. -When we consider the excited state of her mind, and—if the statements of -psychologists be true—the magnetic currents which were being transmitted -from the sensitive nature of the man into the excited brain of the new -convert, together with the pressure of half a dozen human hands upon her -head, it is not at all astonishing that when the hands were lifted off -she should firmly believe that she had been blessed indeed. She had been -told that she should receive the Gift of the Holy Ghost; and she did not -for an instant doubt that her expectations had been realized. - -Each of the newly-baptized went through the same ceremony, and then they -all partook of the sacrament, when, after another hymn, the meeting was -closed with prayer. - -In the evening I returned, to listen to a lecture upon “the character, -spirit, and genius” of the new church, delivered by Elder Stenhouse; -and I was captivated by the picture which he drew of the marvellous -latter-day work which he affirmed had already begun. The visions of -by-gone ages were again vouchsafed to men; angels had visibly descended -to earth; God had raised up in a mighty way a Prophet, as of old, to -preach the dispensation of the last days; gifts of prophecy, healing, -and the working of miracles were now, as in the days of the Apostles, -witnesses to the power of God. The long-lost tribes of Israel were about -to be gathered into the one great fold of Christ; and the fulness of -the Gentiles being come, they, too, were to be taken under the care of -the Good Shepherd. All were freely invited to come and cast away their -sins, ere it was too late; and the fullest offers of pardon, grace, -sanctification, and blessing, in this world and in the next, were -presented to every repentant soul. - -Surely, I thought, these are the self-same doctrines which my mother -taught me, when I knelt beside her in childhood, and which I have so -often heard—only in colder and less persuasive language—urged from -the pulpits of those whom I have ever regarded in the light of true -disciples of Jesus. Who can wonder that I listened with rapt attention, -and that my heart was even then half won to the new faith? The days -passed; and as I pondered over these things it appeared to me that I had -at last found that which I had so long earnestly desired and prayed for—a -knowledge of that true religion for which the Saviour presented Himself -a Holy Sacrifice, and which the Apostles preached at peril of their -lives—the _only_ faith, in which I might find joy and peace in believing. - -But why should I dwell upon those moments, soul-absorbing as was their -interest to me _then_—sadly-pleasing as is their memory _now_! The reader -can see the drift of my thoughts at that time; and I feel sure, although -I have but hastily sketched the causes which brought about these great -changes in my religious belief and in my life, that he will not hastily -accuse me of fickleness and love of change, if he himself has fought the -battles of the soul, and has learned even in a slight measure to realize -the mystery of his inner being. - -Each day the finger of destiny drew me nearer to the final step. The -young Elder, whose words I had listened to with such strange and, to -me, momentous results, was intimate with my father’s family, and called -frequently to see us, and before long he convinced me that it was my duty -to test for myself whether the work was of God, or not. In the agitated -state of my mind at that time, I could not withstand the earnest appeals -which were made to my affections and hopes; and within two weeks after -my arrival in England I became formally a member of the Church of Jesus -Christ of Latter-day Saints; or in more popular language—I became a -Mormon. - -The day was fixed for my baptism. Several others were to be baptized -at the same time; for scarcely a week passed without quite a number -of persons joining the Church. For this purpose we all repaired to a -bath-house on the banks of the Southampton river. This place was not -perhaps the most convenient, and it certainly was devoid of the slightest -tinge of romance; but it was the only one available to the saints at that -time. - -When we were all assembled and had united in singing and prayer, Elder -Stenhouse went down into the water first, and then two men went down -and were baptized, and came up again. Now came my turn. I was greatly -agitated, for I felt all the solemnity of the occasion. I had dressed -myself very neatly and purely, for I believed that angel eyes were upon -me; I wished to give myself—a perfect and acceptable offering—to my God, -and I was filled with the determination henceforth to devote my whole -life to His service. - -As I went down into the waters of baptism, how thankful I felt that it -had been my privilege to hear the gospel in my youth, for now I could -give my heart in all its freshness to the Lord, before it had been -chilled by the cold, hard experience of life. - -I descended the steps, and Elder Stenhouse came forward and led me out -into the water; then, taking both my hands in one of his, he raised his -other hand towards heaven, and in a solemn and impressive voice he said,— - -“_Fanny; by virtue of the authority vested in me, I baptize you for the -remission of your sins; in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of -the Holy Ghost. Amen._” - -Then he immersed me in the water; and as I reascended the steps, I really -felt like another being: all my past was buried in the deep—the waters of -baptism had washed away my sins; and a new life lay open before me, in -which my footsteps would be guided by the inspired servants of God. All -now would be peace and joy within me, for I had obeyed the commands of -God, and I doubted not that I should receive the promised blessing, and -that now I could indeed go on my way rejoicing. - -My baptism took place one Saturday afternoon, and the afternoon following -I was confirmed a member of the Church. Elder Stenhouse presided at the -meeting, and he, with Elder Cowdy, and two other elders, confirmed me. As -the “blessing” which I then myself received differs somewhat from the one -which I have already given, and as it is a very fair specimen of those -effusions, I present it to the reader in full. - -Elder Stenhouse, Elder Cowdy, and the two other Elders, placed their -hands solemnly upon my head, and Elder Stenhouse said,— - -“Fanny; by virtue of the authority vested in me, I confirm you a member -of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints; and inasmuch as you -have been obedient to the command of God, through his servants, and have -been baptized for the remission of your sins, I say unto you that those -sins are remitted. And in the name of God I bless you, and say unto you, -that inasmuch as you are faithful and obedient to the teachings of the -priesthood, and seek the advancement of the kingdom, there is no good -thing that your heart can desire that the Lord will not give unto you. -You shall have visions and dreams, and angels shall visit you by day and -by night. You shall stand in the temple in Zion, and administer to the -Saints of the Most High God. You shall speak in tongues, and prophecy; -and the Lord shall bless you abundantly, both temporally and spiritually. -These blessings I seal upon your head, inasmuch as you shall be faithful; -and I pray heaven to bless you; and say unto you—_Be thou blessed_, in -the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.” - -After the meeting, I received the congratulations of all the Saints -present, and more particularly those of my own family. My dear mother and -father were overjoyed; and I now learned how anxious they had been, and -how they had feared that I should return to France and reject the faith -of the new dispensation. Altogether we were very happy. - -Elder Stenhouse and Elder Cowdy returned home with us to tea, and -afterwards we all attended the usual evening lecture. In this way was -passed one of the happiest days of my life—one which I shall ever -remember;—and yet that memory will always be mingled with regret that so -much love and devotion as I then felt were not enlisted in a better cause. - -Thus began a new era in my life. All my former friends and associations -were now to be remembered no more; my lot was cast among the Saints; and -in the state of my mind at that time, I believed that I should be happy -in my new position, and resolved to give evidence of the sincerity of my -faith. - -The untiring energy and restless activity of Elder Stenhouse was ever -before our eyes, and inspired all who associated with him with a similar -enthusiasm. There were no drones in that hive. The brethren, at a word -from him, would roam the country, teaching and preaching in the open air, -while the sisters would go from house to house in the city, distributing -tracts about the new faith. I caught the enthusiasm of the rest, and was -soon in the ranks with the other sisters, as devoted in my endeavours as -a young, ambitious heart could be. I was indeed like one born again from -an old existence into a new life. I felt grateful and happy—I began to -dream of the eternal honour which crowns a faithful missionary life; and -I soon found an ample field for testing my fitness for that vocation. - -At the time of which I speak, the Primitive Methodists in England were -doing a great work in the way of converting sinners. Their missionaries -were zealous and devoted men, though generally poor and uneducated. -They resembled very closely the Mormon elders in their labours; and, -in fact, a very large number of the leading Mormons had been Methodist -local-preachers and exhorters; and the greater number of the new-born -Saints had come from that denomination with their former teachers, or -else had followed them soon after. - -The change from Methodist to Mormon was, in course of time, very strongly -marked; but for a considerable period the same, or what seemed the same, -influences were at work among the people. Remarkable scenes of excitement -were often witnessed at the “love feasts;” and from the “anxious seats,” -as they were called, might be heard, the entreaties of self-accusing -souls, frightened by a multitude of sins, crying earnestly, nay, wildly, -for grace, mercy, and the Holy Ghost; while many of the supplicants -would fall upon the ground, completely overcome by nervous excitement. -Then they would have visions, and beheld great and unutterable -things; received the forgiveness of their sins; and, coming back to -consciousness, believed themselves now to be the children of God, and new -creatures; doubting not that they would ever after be happy in the Lord. - -The experience of the Saints at their meetings, when Mormonism was first -preached, was exactly similar to this. Into the psychological, moral, or -religious causes of these scenes of excitement I cannot here enter;—I -simply mention facts as they came under my own observation. - -The Mormon Missionary often came upon whole communities in the rural -districts of England, where this “good time” was in full operation; and -being a man of texts he would follow up the revival, preaching that the -spirit of the prophet was subject to the prophet, and not the prophet -subject to the spirit. Controversy would arise, and his appeal to -Scripture, literally interpreted, was almost invariably triumphant. Even -in America, especially in New York and Ohio, the same causes produced the -same effects. It was after his mind was excited by a general revival near -his native place, that Joseph Smith, the founder of Mormonism, received -his first religious impression, and saw, as he asserted, his first -angelic vision. His followers, even in the early days of the Church, had -revival-meetings and meetings at which the most extraordinary excitement -was manifested,—when the Saints fell into ecstatic trances, saw heaven -opened, and spake with tongues. But Joseph, shrewd man as he was, albeit -“a prophet,” when he found too many rival seers were coming into the -field, announced by “special revelation,” that these too-gifted persons -were possessed by devils, and that their visions and prophesyings must be -at once suppressed. And he did suppress them. - -Not long after my own baptism I was present at a meeting of this -description, in Southampton. It was called a “testimony meeting,” and was -held in a large upper room situated, if I rightly remember, in Chandos -Street. No one from the outside would have supposed that it was the place -of assembly of the Saints, for it was generally used for ordinary secular -meetings, and I have heard that great objections were at first raised as -to the propriety of letting it to the Mormons. - -As we entered the door, we were saluted by Brother Williams, who -expressed great pleasure at seeing us. There was a full attendance of -the Saints, and every face wore an expression of peaceful earnestness. A -person who has never attended a Mormon meeting can form no idea of the -joyous spirit which seemed to animate every one present. I am not, of -course, speaking of modern meetings, but of meetings as they used to be. -Whence and whatever that “spirit” might be which moved the sisters and -brethren when they met in early times, I cannot tell; but I, and with -me, ten thousand Mormons and seceding Mormons in Utah, can, from our own -experience, testify that _that_ spirit no longer visits the Tabernacle -services over which Brigham Young presides, or the meetings of the Saints -since they adopted the accursed doctrine of polygamy, and forsook the -gentle leadings of their first love. - -Often have I heard Mormons of good standing and high position in the -Church, lament the “good old times” as they called them, when the -outpouring of the Spirit was so abundant, and mourn over the cold, barren -services of the present day. But the elders explain this away. It is, -they say, the fault of the people themselves, and because their own -hearts have become cold. - -At the meeting of which I speak, that happy spirit was peculiarly marked. -An encouraging smile, or a kind word, greeted me on every side, and, as a -newly-converted sister, I received the most cordial welcome. The brethren -were seated on forms and chairs and any other convenient article which -came to hand, while at the further end of the room was Brother Bench, who -was to preside, and with him several other leading Elders. Brother Bench -gave out a suitable hymn. - -The whole congregation joined in the singing, and every heart seemed -lifted up with devotion. Then another Elder rose, and offered a -spirit-moving prayer; and then the brother who presided stated that for -the time he withdrew his control of the proceedings, and, as the phrase -was, he “put the meeting in the hands of the Saints,” exhorting them not -to let the time pass by unimproved. - -Then arose Brother Edwards, a well-tried champion of the faith, and to -him every one listened with profound attention, eagerly drinking in his -every utterance. I could almost, even now, imagine that he was really -inspired. _Then_ I firmly believed he was. His voice thrilled with an -earnestness which seemed to us something more than the mere excitement of -the soul. A burning fire seemed to flash from his large, expressive eyes; -his features were lighted up with that animation which gives a saint-like -halo to the earnest face when fired with indignation or pleading -soul-felt truths; while his whole frame seemed to glow with the glory -of a land beyond this earth, as in the most impressive and convincing -language he reminded us that our sins had been washed away by the waters -of baptism, that upon us had been poured the gifts and graces of the -Spirit, and that it was our sacred privilege to testify of these things. - -The effect of this exhortation was magical. We forgot all our outward -surroundings, in the realization that the great work of the Lord was -so gloriously begun, and that it would surely go on, conquering and to -conquer. One sister—an elderly woman—who was present, unable to control -her emotion, burst out with that Mormon hymn which I have heard some -old Nauvoo Saints declare produced upon the people in those days an -enthusiasm similar to that which moves the heart of every true Frenchman -when he listens to the soul-stirring notes of the Marseillaise:— - - The Spirit of God like a fire is burning! - The latter day glory begins to come forth; - The visions and blessings of old are returning, - The angels are coming to visit the earth. - We’ll sing and we’ll shout with the armies of heaven, - Hosannah! Hosannah to God and the Lamb, - All glory to them in the highest be given - Henceforth and for ever: Amen, and Amen. - -I have often heard in magnificent cathedrals, hoary with the dust of -time, and in vast places of amusement dedicated specially to music and to -song, the outpouring of that glorious vocal flood, which a chorus of a -thousand well-trained singers can alone send forth. I have felt sometimes -that entrancing state of ecstasy which thrilled the soul of the seer in -Patmos, as he listened to the melody of the angelic throng—“the voice of -many waters, and the peal of mighty thunders, and the notes of harpers -harping upon their harps;” but never, even when surrounded by all that -was best calculated to produce a sentiment of devotion in my mind—never -did I experience so rapt a feeling of communion with “the armies of -heaven”—as I felt in that unadorned meeting-room, surrounded by those -plain but earnest and united people. - -Nor was I alone in this. The feeling was contagious. There was not one -present who did not sympathize. And thus, I suppose, melody has always -played a prominent part in all religious revivals, whether of divine or -human origin. The Apostles had their psalms, and hymns, and spiritual -songs; the Martyrs their _Te Deum_; the Waldenses made the hills and -vales of Piedmont vocal with their singing; the Lollards and Hussites had -their melodies; and in more modern days the followers of Luther, Wesley, -and (may I add?) Joseph Smith, have poured out the fulness of their souls -after the same fashion. - -The last notes of the hymn had scarcely died away when another, and then -another brother, arose and bore testimony to the great work, told what -the Lord had done for them personally, told of their zeal for the faith, -and fervently exhorted all present to persevere unto the end. Again -prayer was offered, another hymn sung, and the Saints were dismissed with -a solemn benediction. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -LIFE AMONG THE SAINTS—MY NEW ENGAGEMENTS. - - -I was now a Mormon in every sense of the word, although entirely ignorant -of Utah politics and polygamy. - -My dreams were of a life of happiness spent in seeking to convert the -whole world to the religion of Jesus, which I believed had been restored -again to earth by the ministry of holy angels. It is easy to say that -such an ambition was ill-directed when associated with Mormonism, but no -one can deny that, in itself, it was the noblest and purest that could -inspire the heart of man. There was no sacrifice too great for me to -make; there was no object too dear for me to resign, if it stood in the -way of my sacred calling. The whole current of my thoughts and plans was -now changed. It was henceforth my duty to be entirely forgetful of self, -and to devote my energies—my all—to the advancement of the Kingdom of -God. My life was to be identified with the Saints,—my faith required it, -and I was willing that it should be so. - -But what of my beloved France, all this time; and my betrothed husband? - -This reflection aroused within me a most painful train of thought. How -many fond and endearing memories entwined themselves around my heart -at that moment, when most I needed to banish them for ever! With what -lingering love did I look back to those dear ones from whom I had parted -but a few short weeks before, and whom I might perhaps never see again! -To return would be to desert my newly-adopted friends and faith—to -violate the covenant which I had made at baptism to “be ever afterwards -governed by the servants of God.” - -No; it was too late—I could not now return;—I tried to persuade -myself that I did not even wish to;—in a word, affection, and what I -thought duty, were at war together in my heart. All my former ties and -associations must now be severed, however terrible the cost might be; and -I was bound not only to submit, but even to glory in the sacrifice. Thus -I argued away the regrets which would at times agitate my very soul, and -cause me much painful thought. - -The trial of my profession in the new faith came swiftly to my door. My -marriage-engagement must be broken off, though I knew not how that could -honourably and conscientiously be done. Of myself I had no wish to draw -back from anything that I had promised of my own free will; and much less -did I desire to be faithless to my solemnly plighted word. - -I now first realized the all-absorbing influence of an earnest religious -faith. I was brought face to face with the fact that I could not marry -out of the Mormon Church. The teaching of the Elders was against it, and -I saw that in this they were consistent. Great as was the trial, and -painful as was the sacrifice, I resolved to be true to my religion. How -very earnestly the Elders insisted upon such sacrifices, may be seen from -an appeal made at a later date by the “Apostle” Orson Pratt. Brother -Orson was in Europe, and, speaking authoritatively, he set forth the -duties of mothers and daughters in “Babylon,” as he graciously styled the -rest of the world, in the following terms, which unmistakably show the -purposes of the leaders relative to marriage:— - -“Many of you have daughters, some of whom are grown to womanhood; others -are now young. Would, you have them gather with you to a land where -virtue and peace dwell, where God has promised to protect and bless the -righteous? If so, teach them, as they love their parents, and the Saints, -and the truth, not to throw themselves away by marrying Gentiles; teach -them to _keep themselves entirely aloof from Gentile_ courtships and -associations. Scores of women who once were counselled as you are now, -are mourning in wretchedness, in bondage to Gentile husbands, cut off -from all privilege of gathering with their fathers, mothers, brethren, -and sisters; and, in some instances, cut off from even attending the -Saints’ meetings. But this is not all. They are raising up children in -these lands to perish with themselves in the general desolations coming -upon Babylon. But what is still more aggravating and heart-rending, they -are raising up children not only destined for temporal judgments, but who -must for ever be cut off from the presence of God and the glory of the -celestial kingdom.... What fearful responsibility for any young sister to -voluntarily take upon herself, after all the warnings she has received. -See to it, then, parents, that you not only do not give your consent, -but actually forbid all such marriages.... - -“_Let them marry according to the holy order of God_, and begin to -lay the foundation of a little family kingdom which shall no more be -scattered upon the face of the earth, but dwell in one country, keeping -their genealogies from generation to generation, until each man’s house -shall be multiplied as the stars of heaven.” - -These were the influences which were brought to bear upon my mind at -a time when it was peculiarly sensitive, and open to impressions from -without. - -While in this uncertain state a little incident occurred which, though -in itself of the most trifling nature, assisted in forming my ultimate -decision. - -It was a beautiful evening in early summer, and my mother and sister -asked me to accompany them to one of the testimony-meetings which I have -already described. This meeting was very similar to the others, with one -notable exception:—it was here that I saw and heard, for the first time -in my own experience, the “gift of tongues” exercised. - -Long before I had even heard of Mormonism, I had frequently thought how -wonderfully useful this gift must have been to the Apostles. One of the -great difficulties encountered by the missionary is learning the language -of the people among whom he works and lives. To be able to dispense -with all this labour, and to be understood wherever he went, must have -lightened the mind of the holy man of half its load; and naturally, when -I heard that the Mormons had “the Gift of Tongues,” I supposed it was -the self-same power of diverse speech as that exercised by the Apostles; -and I presume the reader will conjecture with me that it was the same -“gift,” or, at least, some imitation of it. How surprised I was when I -first discovered the meaning of the term “speaking in tongues” among the -Mormons, may perhaps be imagined when I explain what happened at that -testimony-meeting. - -After prayer, and singing, and listening to several very fervent -addresses from some of the elders, Brother Seely had delivered a most -impassioned speech, and had hardly concluded, when Sister Ellis, who -was sitting near me, gave evidence of being in an abnormal condition of -mind, which to me was painful in the extreme. Her hands were clenched, -and her eyes had that wild and supernatural glare which is never seen, -save in cases of lunacy or intense feverish excitement. Every one waited -breathlessly, listening to catch what she might say;—you might have heard -a pin drop. - -Then in oracular language and with all the impassioned dignity of one -inspired of heaven, she began to speak. - -I say “speak,” as that term is generally applied to the utterances of -the human voice; but she did not _speak_ in the sense in which we always -employ that word; she simply emitted a series of sounds. They seemed to -me chiefly the repetition of the same syllables—something like a child -repeating, _la, la, la, le, lo_; _ma, ma, ma, mi, ma_; _dele, dele, -dele, dela_—followed, perhaps, by a number of sounds strung together, -which could not be rendered in _any_ shape by the pen. Sometimes in -the Far West, in later years, I have heard old Indian women, crooning -weirdly monotonous and outlandish ditties in their native tongue. These -wild dirges, more nearly than anything else I ever heard, resembled the -prophetic utterances of Sister Ellis; save only, that the appearance of -the latter was far too solemn to admit of even a smile at what she said. - -Ridiculous as this appears when I now write it down on paper, and strange -as even then it was to me, there was something so commanding, so earnest, -so “inspirational,” if I may be allowed the term, in Sister Ellis’s -manner, that I could not wonder at the attention which the brethren and -sisters paid to this gifted speaker in tongues. - -I now know that these extraordinary displays are by no means confined to -Mormonism. People of a certain temperament, excited to frenzy—generally -by religious enthusiasm—have in all ages given painful illustrations of -this mental disease; as the student who remembers the _Convulsionnaires_ -of the middle ages, the Munster Anabaptists of Luther’s time, and the -various emotional sects of more modern days, will abundantly bear me -witness. But at that time, new in the faith, and believing as I did -that, as the Elders said, it was the manifestion of the power of God, -as foretold by the prophet Joel, though I secretly felt a sense of -repugnance, I tried to combat my better sentiments. - -Overcome by the excitement of the moment, Sister Ellis suddenly paused, -not so much intentionally as from sheer inability to proceed; and the -leading Elders looked round from one to another to see if any one was -present who could interpret. The gift of interpretation is very rarely -possessed by the same person who has the gift of tongues, and you may -often hear one after another arise and “speak,” but there is no one to -“interpret,” and the Saints go away unedified. Even when an interpreter -is present, there is no authority to determine whether he gives the -proper rendering of the sounds uttered, and I have over and over again -heard the most ludicrous stories of the comical interpretation placed by -some half-witty or half-witted expounder upon these oracles. - -When Brother Brigham—then a man who was lowly in his own eyes—first met -the prophet Joseph Smith, at Kirtland, Ohio, there was a scene somewhat -like the one I have described; and the future leader of “this people,” -as he calls the Saints, himself spake with tongues and uttered wonderful -things. But even supposing his words at that time to have been of the -wisest, we all know from the example of Balaam’s _reprover_, that it -does not require a very high order of intellect to speak in unaccustomed -language—and that, too, to some purpose. In later days the exercise of -this gift has been discouraged by the Elders, and especially by Brigham -Young. Going one day, some years after, to the Lion-House to see a -certain member of the Prophet’s little family concerning a subject which -lay very near to my heart at that time, we prayed together earnestly -and anxiously; when suddenly the lady’s face was lighted up with a -supernatural glow, and placing her hand on my head she, sibyl-like, -poured forth a flood of eloquence which—although I did not understand a -single word that was uttered—I confess sent through me a magnetic thrill -as if I had been listening to an inspired seeress. Another of Brigham’s -wives who was present interpreted the words of blessing to me, but added: -“Do not speak of this, Sister Stenhouse, for Brother Young does not like -to hear of these things.” Thus we see that one inspired prophet in the -presence of another “prophet, seer, and revelator,” could himself take -part at one time in a miraculous manifestation, which in later years he -“would not like to hear of,” if it was only one of his many wives who -enacted the prophet’s _rôle_. - -But my meeting! I have wandered far away from that. Let me proceed. - -After more testimony, more “speaking,” and much enthusiasm, the Saints -separated. My sister was talking with a young-lady friend, and regretting -that no one present had been able to interpret; and I stood by, but did -not join in the conversation. Suddenly the young lady turned to me and -said: “Sister Fanny, do you not see in all this, more and more, the -convincing power of God?” - -Rather hesitatingly I replied, “Yes, I think I do.” - -“_Think!_ sister?” said she, with warmth. “Oh, yes, I see by your looks -that you are only half convinced; your faith is not strong enough yet; -but remember, whatsoever is of doubt _is sin_!” - -“But,” I answered, “I do not see clearly what good we receive from these -manifestations when no one can understand them.” - -“That is your want of faith—nothing else; you have the evidence of -the truth before you, and you see how these miraculous powers build -up the belief of God’s people; and yet you doubt. _To doubt is sin_: -whatsoever is not of faith is sin. You must pray and strive, sister, to -be strengthened against temptation.” - -All this was not very logical, and it certainly did not help to dispel my -doubts. But twice in the course of a few short sentences, she had used a -certain expression which, though trifling in itself, was recalled to my -mind very forcibly before many days had passed. - -This was my first experience of speaking in tongues. - -But there were every-day matters of much more real importance to me than -those strange speculations which had recently employed so much of my time -and attention. It was now necessary that I should either return to France -and fulfil my engagement with Monsieur D—— or else resolve, once and for -ever, to renounce all those ties which had become so dear to me. - -Meanwhile, religious theories were not the only influences brought to -bear upon my mind. - -While day by day I began to be still more doubtful whether it would not -after all be sinful in God’s sight for me to leave my friends in the new -faith and go back to France and my betrothed, who I knew neither was nor -ever could become a Saint, other thoughts began to intrude themselves, -and to shake my determination. - -Elder Stenhouse’s visits to my father’s house began to be more frequent -than ever, but as he desired to become familiar with the French language, -and would bring his French grammar with him “to get a lesson,” as he -said, no particular notice was taken of his frequent coming. He was -always welcomed with pleasure by the whole family, and, of course, by -myself, who was his teacher. After awhile he took so much delight in his -studies that he could not endure to let an evening pass without a lesson; -and somehow or other, I must confess, it was the first time since I -had been a teacher that I felt such a peculiar pleasure in imparting -instruction. I suppose it was the interest which all teachers experience -when their pupils are studiously inclined. My pupil was particularly -studious—so much so that he told my father and mother that he could not -study very well in the parlour where every one was conversing, and begged -the privilege of having the folding doors thrown partly open, that we -might sit in the back parlour and be more quiet. - -This was granted. But after a few evenings my pupil took a notion to -partly close the folding doors after him, and, as mother’s eyes are -ever watchful, one of my sisters was sent in with her sewing to keep us -company. But my pupil by this time had made rapid progress in the French -language, and while my sister was innocently sewing, he was repeating his -lesson to me; and it was not our fault if in those French phrase-books -there were passages expressive of love and devotion. Unconsciously to us -both, he formed the habit of repeating those phrases to me at all times, -and I formed the equally bad habit of blushing whenever he made use of -them. - -This my sister observed, and communicated the fact to my mother, who -immediately said that we had better discontinue our French for awhile, -as it was monopolizing too much of our time, and keeping both of us from -attending to other and more important duties. But the discontinuation of -the French lessons did not put an end to the visits of Elder Stenhouse. -He was a persevering young man; but the secret of the great interest -taken in the French lessons was soon discovered. - -Then it was that arguments of all kinds, and strong reasons, were brought -forward to shake my purpose of returning to France. I was “in doubt;” -when one day, discussing the point, Elder Stenhouse made use of the -very same expression which had fallen from the sister’s lips at the -testimony-meeting—“Whatsoever is not of faith is sin.” My mind unsettled, -with all the strength of argument and religion on the one side, and on -the other no one to plead for reason and for my return to France, who can -wonder that I—at best only a weak and inexperienced girl—listened to the -entreaties of my friends, and resolved to stay. - -In the course of a few months I was engaged to be married to Elder -Stenhouse. It may, perhaps, seem strange that I could so soon forget -the past, with all its pleasant memories and renouncing my betrothed -husband, accept the attentions of another; but it should be remembered -that I now firmly believed it was my duty—a duty which I dared not -neglect—to blot out for ever all past associations, however dear to my -heart they might be. Besides which, I, in common with all around me, had -learned to look upon Elder Stenhouse as almost an angel, on account of -what he had endured for the gospel’s sake; and I thought that any girl -might consider herself honoured by an offer of marriage from a man in his -position in the Church. My marriage in France would, I feared, have been -but doubtful happiness in this world, and certain ruin in the next; but -heaven itself would bless my union with one of its own ordained and tried -servants. - -Thus it came to pass that on the 6th of February, 1850—eight months after -my arrival in Southampton—I was married to the young Mormon missionary, -Elder Stenhouse. I entered upon my new sphere as a missionary’s wife, -feeling that there were no obstacles so great that I could not overcome -them for the gospel’s sake. How little could I then imagine the life that -was before me! - -I wrote to my friends in France. I told them frankly _all_. In return -they wrote to me—especially Monsieur D——, entreating me to alter my -determination. Kind, and very gentle, were those letters. Dear, very -dear, has been the memory of them, and of their writers, in later days. -But at the time I felt that the influence which they still retained over -me was in itself a sin. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -THE FIRST WHISPERINGS OF POLYGAMY. - - -About three months after our marriage it was rumoured that four of the -Twelve Apostles had been appointed to foreign missions, and were then on -their way to England. - -The Saints in Britain had been for several years without any missionaries -direct from the body of the church, and the announcement of this foreign -mission was hailed with joy. - -I confess to experiencing much pleasure at the thought of becoming -acquainted with a living Apostle. How often in my girlhood I had wished -that I had lived when men inspired of God walked the earth. What a joy, -I thought, it would have been to have listened to the wisdom of such -teachers. Now the time was near when I should realize all the happiness -of my day-dreams—when I should really have the privilege of conversing -with those chosen men of God. The invitation, therefore, to meet the -Conference in London on the 1st of June, was very welcome intelligence. - -We went to the London Conference—my husband and I; and there for the -first time I met with Apostles, who were also Prophets, and Priests, and -High-priests, and Teachers, and Elders, and Deacons—all assembled in -solemn convocation. - -The four Apostles whom I met at that time were John Taylor, Lorenzo Snow, -Erastus Snow, and Franklin D. Richards—pleasant and agreeable men, and -withal very fair specimens of Mormon missionaries, who had found favour -in the eyes of Brigham Young and of the leaders in Zion, and who had been -promoted accordingly. They lived comfortably, wore the finest broadcloth, -fashionably cut, and were not averse to gold chains, and charms, and -signet-rings, and other personal adornments. They put on no particular -airs, were as polite and attentive to ladies as gentlemen always are, and -could go to a theatre or any other place of amusement without hesitation. -I afterwards discovered that in one particular, at least, if not in all, -they resembled the early Apostles, for they too could, like St. Paul, -“lead about a sister” without any compunctions of conscience. - -The Southampton Saints had hitherto formed only a branch of the London -Conference, but did not form a conference of their own. It was now -resolved that since so large a number had recently been baptized in -Hampshire, the several branches of the church there should be organized -into a special conference at Southampton, with Elder Stenhouse as its -president; and the Sunday following was appointed for that purpose, when -the Apostle Snow, _en route_ to Italy—to which country he had just been -appointed missionary—would honour the occasion with his presence. - -As we returned, some gentlemen in the same railway carriage, to while -away the time, I suppose, entered into a religious discussion. What the -subject was I do not now remember; but I can recollect that a good deal -was said as to which of all the numerous Christian sects really possessed -Divine authority. Elder Stenhouse took an active part in the argument, -and being, like all the Mormon Missionaries at that time, very well -posted in Scriptural discussions, he attracted considerable attention, -and was much complimented by several persons present. - -The Apostle Lorenzo Snow was silent all the time, but he took note of -all that passed. Elder Stenhouse was a man of great zeal and untiring -energy—qualities in which perhaps Brother Snow felt himself a little -deficient; and he was going on a mission which required unflagging -devotion and perseverance. We had not been an hour at home, before -he told my husband that the Lord had _thrice_ revealed to him that -he should accompany him to Italy! How often—even while I still clung -to Mormonism—did it appear strange to me that the “revelations” of -distinguished Saints should so frequently coincide with their own -personal wishes, and come at such convenient times. - -I had laid aside my travelling-dress, and was hastening to provide some -refreshment for the Apostle, when my husband came and told me of the -revelation which had been so opportunely received. I was at that time -as much an enthusiast as Elder Stenhouse himself, and I felt honoured -that my husband should be the first English elder appointed to a foreign -mission. Here was the fulfilment of my ambition, that we should be in -the forefront of the battle, and should obtain distinction as zealous -servants of God. But at what a cost was this ambition purchased! My -poor, weak heart sickened at the thought—I had been but four months -married. - -When the Apostle asked me if I were willing that Elder Stenhouse should -go to Italy, I answered “Yes,” though I felt as if my heart would break. -I remembered that in my first transport of joy and gratitude after being -baptized, I had made a covenant with the Lord that I would do anything -which He might require of me; and I dared not rebel, or break that vow. -Oh, the agony that fell upon my young heart! It seemed that the weight -of a mountain rested upon it when I was told that my husband might be -five years absent. He had already been five years a travelling elder -without a home, trusting for daily bread to the voluntary kindness of -the Saints. He had laboured faithfully, and looked forward to the day -when his “Conference” should be established, and he could count upon an -improvement in his temporal position, and an early call to emigrate to -Zion. In the few months that I had been his wife, it was only natural -that I should share his hopes; but just at the moment when they were -about to be realized, hopes and expectations were scattered to the winds. - -On the following day the Saints assembled, the Southampton Conference was -organized, and Elder Stenhouse elected its president. Ten minutes later -he was publicly appointed by the Apostle on a mission to Italy. - -During the few days which intervened between the time when Elder -Stenhouse received his appointment, to the hour of his departure, -I enjoyed but little of his society. Arranging the affairs of the -Conference which he was leaving, and preparation for his mission, fully -occupied his attention. I do not think we either of us uttered a word, -when alone together, respecting the future that was before us. It was -probably better that we did not. There are moments of our life when -silence is better than speech; and it is safer to trust in the mercy of -God than to try to shape our own destiny. - -The Saints are noted for the fraternal spirit which exists among them. -There are, of course, exceptions; but, as a rule, every Mormon is willing -to help his brother in the faith, acting upon the principle “One is -your Master, even Christ: and all ye are brethren.” The Southampton -Saints were no exception to this rule, but showed their kindness both -to my husband and myself in a thousand little ways. I have spoken of my -unhappiness during that week of preparation, but I must not forget that -there were gleams of hope in the darkness. One occasion I shall never -forget—a picnic which our friends held as a kind of valedictory feast in -honour of the missionaries—of Elder Stenhouse in particular. - -Right up the Southampton river, not far from Netley Abbey, is a pleasant -and picturesque spot, named Bittern, which I need not too particularly -describe, although the memory of its beauty recalls recollections of -mingled sadness and pleasure to my mind. There my parents now lived, and -thither it was proposed our friends should go. They could obtain all they -needed for the picnic at my father’s house, and we could take our good -things into the woods, and enjoy ourselves as we pleased. We had a very -happy time; for the moment, even _I_ forgot the cloud that was hanging -over me; and our dear friends not only enjoyed themselves to the utmost, -but seemed bent upon making the time pass pleasantly to every one else. - -I had been talking to Sister White about the recent doings of the Saints, -the establishment of the Conference and the sending away of Elder -Stenhouse. I wanted Sister White, as in fact I wanted every one else, to -think that I was perfectly happy in the separation, and that I counted my -feelings as a wife as nothing when placed in the balance against my duty -as a missionary; and I tried to impress upon her how proud I was that -my husband should be the first English Elder entrusted with a foreign -mission. We talked together a great deal. She was still quite a young -woman, though married, and the mother of four darling little children; -but probably she had a better experience than I had, and could see -through my attempts to stifle my natural feelings, while at the same time -she sympathized with me. She spoke very kindly to me; and as we talked, -we wandered inadvertently away from the rest of the party. Suddenly she -thought of her little boy, and, mother-like, thinking he might be in -danger, ran off in search of him, promising to come back immediately. - -I sat down upon the grass to await her return. I was somewhat excited -by the conversation which had passed between us; but as I sat musing my -agitation began to cool down, and I was soon lost in thought, and did not -notice that I was not alone. - -I did not hear the light footsteps near me, and did not see a little -fairy friend, as I called her, pass between me and the sun. But a tiny -hand was laid gently on my shoulder, and looking up I saw the loving eyes -of Mary Burton looking straight down into mine. - -“Where have you been, dear?” I asked. “Why, I have hardly seen you all -the day.” - -“But I knew you were here,” she said, “and I thought you were alone; and -I wanted to see you, and talk with you.” - -“Come and sit down beside me, Mary,” I said, “and let us have a little -chat together.” Then I drew her gently towards me, and she sat down by -my side. For a few moments we said nothing, but I was watching her, and -waiting to hear what she would say. She seemed such a pretty, such a -sweet and gentle girl—more like one of those little birds of glorious -plumage and thrilling song that we see glittering among the dew-drops -and the dancing leaves, than a child of earth. And I pitied her for her -beauty, for such beauty is a snare; and I wondered whether her innocent -soul was as fair and glorious before God as her face was sweet to me; -and I asked whether, in years to come, when the glory of her childish -radiance had passed away, the brightness of a soul pure and serene would -lend a new beauty to her features—the beauty, not of childish innocence, -but of a noble womanhood. - -I took her hand in mine, and asked her some trifling question; but she -did not answer. Suddenly she looked up full into my face, and said, -“Sister Stenhouse; I’m very, very sorry for you.” - -“Sorry for _me_, dear?” I said. “_Why_ should you be sorry? I am not sad.” - -“You shouldn’t say so,” she replied; “you know in your heart you _are_ -sad, although you don’t say so. It’s a fine thing, no doubt, for Elder -Stenhouse to go away, though for my part I’d rather stop at home if I -loved any one there; and at any rate, you must feel sorry that he is -going away so far, if you love him.” - -“But Mary,” I said, “you know it is his duty to go; and he has been -called to it by the Apostle, and it is a great honour.” - -“Oh yes, I know that,” she replied, “I know that.” Then we relapsed into -silence for some few moments. Presently drawing nearer to me, she said -again, quite suddenly, “Sister Stenhouse, do you know the meaning of the -word _Polygamy_?” - -“Why, what a funny question to ask me, child!” I exclaimed. - -“Child, you call me, Sister Stenhouse; but I’m not a child—at least not -quite a child; I shall be fifteen next birthday.” - -“Well, dear,” I said, “I did not mean to offend you; and I call you -‘child’ because I love you; but you asked me such a strange question, and -used such a strange word.” - -This was quite true, for at that time the word Polygamy was as seldom -used as the word “polyandry,” or any other word signifying a state of -things with which we have nothing to do. - -“I’m not offended,” she said; “only people have a way of treating me as -if I were only such a _very_ little girl: I suppose I look so.” - -She certainly did look so, and I suppose she read my thoughts. Womanhood, -by-and-by, brought to her more of reality, both in face and figure, as -well as in the terrible facts of life; but at that time the term “little -fairy,” which I have so often used respecting her, seemed the most -appropriate. The meaning of that terrible word Polygamy she understood, -in later years, fully as well as I did. - -“Well, dear,” I said, “why did you ask me that strange question?” - -“You must promise not to be angry with me if I tell you,” she answered; -“and yet I think you ought to know.” - -I readily promised—what could I have refused her?—and she said,— - -“The other day two of the sisters were at our house—I may not tell you -their names for fear of making mischief—and they were talking together -between themselves, and did not notice that I was present—or else they -didn’t care. And I heard one of them tell the other, that she had heard, -secretly, that in Zion men were allowed to have many wives; and she used -that word Polygamy very often, and said that was what the people of the -world called it.” - -“Well, Mary dear,” I replied, “that is no great secret. We have all heard -that said before. Wicked people who hate the Gospel say that, and a great -deal more, in order to bring scandal upon the Church; but of course it -isn’t true.” - -“Ah, but I haven’t told you all,” she said. “The sisters had a long talk -about it, and they explained whom they heard it from, and it was from no -one outside the Church. And then one of them said that Elder Stenhouse -had heard all about it, and knew it was true, only of course he did not -talk about such things yet; but that the time would come when everyone -would acknowledge it, and all the Saints would have many wives. I was -frightened when I heard this, and very angry—for I thought of you—and I -spoke to her, and said it was all untrue, and I’d ask Elder Stenhouse. -And they scolded me very much for saying so, and said it was very wicked -for a child to listen; and that was why I did not like you to call me -‘child.’” - -“Well, darling,” I said, “I’ll not offend you any more in that way; and -it was very good of you to tell me anything you thought I ought to know.” -Then I kissed her, and continued, “But, after all, I don’t think it’s of -any consequence. It’s the old scandal, just as in the early days they -said wicked things of Christ and His apostles. Elder Stenhouse knows all -that people say, but he has told me again and again that there is not a -word of truth in it; and I believe him.” - -“You think so, Sister Stenhouse,” she replied, “and I suppose I ought -to think so too; but if it’s all false how did people first begin to -think of it? People don’t say that the Mormons are murderers or thieves, -because we have given them no reason to think so. Then why should they -think of such an unheard-of thing as Polygamy—surely there must have been -_some_ reason. Don’t you think so?” - -“No, dear,” I answered, “Elder Stenhouse says that some very wicked men -have sometimes joined the Church, and have done all manner of shocking -things, so that they had to be cut off; and then they went about trying -to make other people believe that the Mormons were as wicked as they -were. There was John C. Bennett, who lived a frightful life at Nauvoo, -and then tried to make out that Joseph Smith was as bad as he was. And -Marsh, the president of the twelve apostles, and Orson Hyde, when they -apostatized not only said bad things of Joseph, but took affidavit, and -swore solemnly before the magistrates, that the prophet had been guilty -of the most fearful crimes.” - -I kissed her again; and she said, “Well, perhaps you are right;” but I -could see that in her heart she was not convinced. - -Then we talked of ourselves and all that interested us, and she told me -all her childish hopes and ambitions; and to me—young as I was myself—it -was pleasant to listen to her innocent prattle. She promised to come and -see me when Elder Stenhouse had gone, and I should be left alone; and -when we got back to the rest of the party we were as firm friends as if -we had known each other a lifetime. - -At midnight, Saturday, June 15th, 1850, the steamer left Southampton for -Havre-de-Grace, bearing on board the first two Mormon missionaries to -Italy; one of them was my husband. - -The Saints had called in the evening to bid Elder Stenhouse good-bye; and -as he was, of course, to travel “without purse or scrip,” they vied with -each other in showing their appreciation of his position and his devotion -to the faith. The poorest among them would not be denied the privilege -of contributing their mites to aid in the conversion of the Italians; -and none of the brethren felt that they could show too much kindness to -the departing missionary. Just in this way have all the foreign missions -of the Mormon Church been projected and sustained; the elements of -success were always present—devotion and self-abnegation on the part of -the missionaries, and an earnest, self-sacrificing disposition on the -part of the people, commanding respect, however erroneous or foolish the -foundation of their faith. - -In the bustle of departure, Mr. Stenhouse seemed never to have thought -about himself, and certainly he made no preparation for me. I had full -confidence in him, however, and loved him devotedly, and knew that my -love was returned. But men who look for miracles, and count upon special -providences for daily bread, are not generally very prudent or far-seeing -in their domestic arrangements. Elder Stenhouse had been told that “the -Lord would provide,” and it therefore seemed to him superfluous that he -should interfere; it would have been a lack of faith to have shown too -much interest in what might become of me. He left me with only 1_l._ - -I now realized the loneliness of my position; there was no earthly friend -to whom I could turn for sympathy at a time like this. Before my Heavenly -Father alone I could pour out the bitterness of my soul and all my -griefs, and in His presence weep and pray. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -MY HUSBAND’S MISSION—I AM LEFT ALONE. - - -When the Apostle Snow called upon Mr. Stenhouse to go to Italy, the -Saints willingly accepted the responsibility of providing for me during -his absence. - -They thought it was more an honour than a burden to have this charge -committed to them; but it was very humiliating to me to be placed in such -a position, however anxious they might be to assist me and to serve the -general cause. To face opposition, or to give my all for my religion, -I was willing indeed; but to depend upon others for my daily bread was -utterly repugnant to my feelings, although, of course, if the Church -sent away my husband, whose proper place and duty it was to support -his family, it was only right that the members of that Church should -undertake the responsibility. But then, and at many other times during my -life, I have learned the truth of Christ’s precept, “It is more blessed -to give than to receive.” - -The American Apostle was not without worldly wisdom when he proposed that -an unmarried man should be appointed to preside over the Southampton -Conference, as his wants would be few. But Mr. Stenhouse had been -solicited by a friend, who had a wife and children, to secure his -appointment; and with ready confidence in that friend, he overlooked his -own interests and my welfare, and I was left to pass through trials and -privations which I can never forget. - -The Saints were very kind, and took pleasure in doing all they could for -me; but the mistake which my husband committed in leaving his friend -to succeed him as president of the Conference was soon apparent. The -“friend” thought of his own family first, and the family required all -that the Saints could reasonably be expected to contribute; and even then -they had not enough. I therefore received only such little sums as could -be withheld from them; and to make the matter worse, those who had any -property or estate were counselled to sell all, and “gather to Zion.” -The more wealthy Saints were soon gone; and the current expenses of the -church fell heavily upon those who were hardly able to support their own -families. - -They tried to send me something every week, and I have no doubt they did -send me all that they could. When their contributions reached four or -five shillings (about $1) I thought myself fortunate; more often I did -not receive the value of fifty cents in the whole week, at times less, -and sometimes nothing at all. That unfailing comfort to respectable -English poverty, a cup of tea, was my greatest luxury, but at times for -weeks together I had not even that; I had nothing but bread; but I never -complained. - -Whenever it was possible I concealed my true situation from every one, -and in my almost daily letters to my husband not a shadow of a hint was -ever dropped relative to my own privations. I wanted him to be successful -in his mission, and I feared that his energy would desert him if he knew -of my difficulties. I was in extreme poverty, certainly, but for myself I -was not in trouble. God would provide for me, I felt; and it was glorious -to suffer in a sacred cause. - -But darker days, days of severer trial, were creeping slowly near me. Up -to this time I had worshipped God and loved my husband with a perfect -heart. Now the dark shadow of an accursed thing was looming in the -distance, and approaching surely if slowly. - -In some way an idea had got abroad that the Mormons were somewhat unsound -respecting the marriage question. Still the elders stoutly denied the -charge, and the more they were accused the more strenuous became their -denials. - -At a public discussion at Boulogne-sur-mer, in France, the Apostle John -Taylor, in reply to the accusations of Polygamy which were brought -against him, said,— - -“We are accused here of actions the most indelicate and disgusting, such -as none but a corrupt and depraved heart could have conceived. These -things are too outrageous to admit of belief.... I shall content myself -with quoting our views of chastity and marriage from a work published by -us, containing some of our articles of faith—Doctrine and Covenants.” - -He then proceeded to quote from the “Book of Doctrine and Covenants” such -passages as the following:— - -“Marriage is ordained by God unto man; wherefore it is lawful that he -should have _one_ wife, and they _twain_ should be _one_ flesh” (p. 218). - -He quoted many other things also, among which might be enumerated the -following:— - -“Thou shalt love thy wife with all thy heart, and shalt cleave unto her, -and none else.” - -He quoted also many other passages of Scripture which had reference to -the subject—each powerful to put aside even the idea of polygamy; and -each equally powerful as an argument against polygamy itself. - -Let the reader here note the value of what Mormons say when their faith -is called in question. See and judge. - -Brother Taylor, who spoke at that meeting, and utterly denied polygamy, -had himself—at that very moment when he so atrociously perjured himself, -and when he swore that no Mormon had more than one wife—_five wives_ -living in Salt Lake City. One of his friends there present had two wives; -and the other was married to a mother, and her own daughter! - -Any conclusion, any expression of disgust at these abominations and -deliberate perjuries, I leave to the reader. - -Among those who came to see Mr. Stenhouse before he left for Italy, -was Elder Margetts, an English elder of some prominence in the British -mission. At the picnic of which I have already spoken, I noticed that -this elder was more than usually attentive to a pretty young sister who -was also present. There was always an affectionate familiarity among the -Saints; as I previously mentioned, they were like brothers and sisters, -and addressed each other as such. But the attentions of the elder I speak -of pointed a little beyond all this. He could not, perhaps, be accused of -any open impropriety, but he certainly looked much more like the girl’s -lover than an ordinary friend or her spiritual adviser. - -I knew this Elder’s family in London, and his conduct pained me a good -deal. So I drew the attention of my husband to the circumstance; and he -said the Elder was foolish, but he would speak to them both; and this he -did. - -After the departure of the missionaries, this elder remained for several -days. He then returned to London, but it was not long before he was again -in Southampton, and he still paid marked attention to the same young -sister. This caused unpleasant remarks among the Saints, who at this time -certainly did not believe that polygamy was practised in Utah. - -At a later date this Elder, with some others, was again in Southampton, -and I was invited to take tea with them at the house of one of the -Saints. In the course of the evening there was a general conversation on -“the work of the Lord,” in which I, of course, was greatly interested. - -Whenever any of the missionaries were visiting, the Saints would seek -their society, just like children who were glad to meet again their -parents after a long absence; and at such times they were at liberty -to ask what questions they pleased. On the evening I speak of, I well -remember that the general subject of conversation was the apostasy of -the Christian Church from the true order of God’s salvation. Prominence -was given to the history of Abraham and his descendants, and occasional -allusion was made to their marital relations; but nothing directly was -spoken. It was very evident that these elders only wanted to drop a word -or two here and there, to suit those who wanted it; but nevertheless they -spoke so obscurely and mysteriously that they could easily have retracted -what was said if any one had accused them of teaching a doctrine which -they were unwilling openly to avow. - -When I returned home that night I was fully satisfied that the Elder I -have spoken of had a reason for his frequent visits to Southampton, and -shortly after the young sister went to London. Whether Polygamy was ever -to be a doctrine of the Church or not, it was very clear to me that the -London Elder was a polygamist at heart. The more my mind dwelt on these -things, the more sick at heart did I become, and faint and weary. - -I had, however, personal cares and trials enough to engage my attention. -I found that I could not depend upon the Saints to provide me with even -the barest necessaries of life, so I looked about me and made inquiries -for some light employment by which I might support myself. My health -at that time would not have allowed me to do much, but for a long time -I could not get anything at all to do. I had, of course, been used to -teaching, but employment of that kind it was just then impossible for me -to take, even if I could have got it; the only resource which seemed left -to me was to find occupation for my needle, and it was a long and weary -time before I could obtain even this. - -At length I got a little plain sewing to do, and out of the miserable -pittance thus earned I contrived to pay my rent and provide a few -necessaries; but at times that too was beyond my power, and I have gone -a fortnight at a time with nothing to eat but dry bread. Still my faith -never failed. And thus the weary days passed by. - -Now, however, a new interest began to gather round my life, for I -expected before the end of the year the arrival of a little stranger to -share my affections and my care. This certainly was a sad beginning of -domestic bliss, but still the thought was pleasant to me. I had at that -time no one to aid me or comfort me. The Saints were very kind, but they -could not supply the place of an absent husband. My dearest friend, Mary -Burton, used to come as often as she could to see me, and her presence -was like a gleam of sunshine; but she was so young, and innocent, and -happy, that I had not the heart to trouble her with my sorrows. All -my jewellery and trinkets, and the greater part of my wardrobe, had -gone in providing for my daily wants, and in preparing those necessary -trifles upon which a young mother bestows so much loving care. My health -was daily failing, and sometimes I doubted if I should ever be well -and strong again. But all that I suffered was for the Church, and that -thought sustained me. - -Often I would sit alone and think—think of the past, and all my early -day-dreams of love, and hope, and bliss; think of my husband in a far-off -land devoting his life and all his energies to the preaching of the -latter-day glory; think of those whisperings of that accursed doctrine -which has since brought desolation and anguish to the hearts of so many -weary women; think of my future life, dark as its promise even then -appeared. - -Sometimes I heard from Italy—heard how my husband was progressing -with his work, and with wifely love I sympathized with him in all his -difficulties, for he told me how arduous the task was in which he was -engaged. - -It was not the expectation of the Mormon Apostles that the missionaries -would do much in Catholic Italy. The same causes were in operation there -as affected the work in France. Few, if any, really good Roman Catholics -have ever joined the Saints. The Irish mission was never successful, and -the same may be said of the French and Italian missions. In France and -Italy by far the greater part of the people might be classed under two -heads—Roman Catholics, and infidels. The first had already an infallible -guide in which they trusted; and as for the infidels, they ridiculed -the idea of any guide at all. Both classes were utterly devoid of that -acquaintance with Scripture of which the Mormon missionaries understood -so well how to take advantage, and which rendered those so susceptible to -religious influences who took the Bible as their basis. The missionaries -in Italy soon experienced the difficulties presented by these facts. - -After their arrival in Genoa, Mr. Stenhouse was directed to carry the -gospel to the Waldenses—those brave old Protestants of the dark ages, who -so manfully suffered, even unto death, for conscience sake; and some time -after he had begun his labours among them, the Apostle Snow joined him. - -Whatever they might believe or teach theoretically, there can be no doubt -that the American Apostles were largely endowed with the “organ” of -caution. Preaching without purse or scrip among people who either detest -you as a heretic or else regard you with profound indifference is not a -pleasant task, and the Mormon Apostles very prudently “took up” liberal -collections in England before they started. Had it not been for this -common-sense proceeding, I am at a loss to say what would have become -of the missionaries in Italy; and as it was, their lot was not a very -enviable one. - -Besides the scarcity of money, the other great difficulty experienced by -the missionaries was learning the language of their destined converts. -For many years it was supposed among the Saints that the “gift of -tongues” would be all-sufficient for this purpose. The two distinguished -Apostles, Orson and Parley P. Pratt, whose writings did so much for -Mormonism, had both of them eloquently discussed the subject in print; -but the missionaries soon discovered that for practical purposes the -“gift” was not of much service; and the two Pratts themselves afterwards -experienced—the one in South America and the other in Austria—the fallacy -of their theories. Without the “gift” in any shape the work in Italy -was necessarily very slow, and an Elder who could speak a little French -was sent out from London to assist them. They had at last come to the -conclusion that if the Lord would not bestow the “gift” upon them, they -must try to acquire it themselves. - -The Apostle Snow now thought of sending the Gospel to the Swiss, and Mr. -Stenhouse was selected for the work. But before he went it was determined -that the Church in Italy should be “organized,” and about a week later, I -received a long account of how this was done. I heard how, one pleasant -November morning, the Apostle Snow, Elders Stenhouse and Woodward, -together with several Waldenses whom they had converted, ascended the -mountain side contiguous to La Tour, and overlooking the fertile valley -of Pinerello. There they sang praises and prayed. They christened the -place “Mount Brigham;” and the stone upon which the three elders stood -and offered up a written prayer, they named “The Rock of Prophecy;” and -there they organized the church, dedicating the soil of Italy to the -Lord. Moreover, then and there my husband was solemnly consecrated a -“High-Priest after the Order of the Son of God.” - -All this I heard, and much more; and in confiding faith that this was -indeed a great and glorious work, I rejoiced that I had been accounted -worthy to suffer patiently at home, if only my husband might successfully -fulfil his task abroad. - -After that I heard that he had left Italy, and had arrived in Geneva, -believing that he would be more successful among the Swiss than the -Italians. - -A few days after the arrival of the missionary in Geneva, an event -occurred which interested my own self personally—my little Clara was -born. Very happy was I when I looked upon her tiny little face for the -first time, and kissed her for being the prettiest baby in the world; -very happy was I when I folded her in my arms, and talked to her as if -she could understand all that I said; very happy indeed, as I looked at -her again and again, and marvelled whether she really could be, indeed -and certainly, my own baby girl. It seemed as if baby’s papa would never -come back again, but I had a companion now in my child; and weak and -weary as I was, with new responsibilities and less power to help myself, -I found comfort in my new care, and realized the truth of the old Scotch -song:— - - “Muckle lichter is the load - When luve bears up the creel.” - -I was not now alone. - -Then, too, came round to see me, Mary Burton. She was as fond and tender -to me as ever, and tripped quietly about the room, and tried to wait upon -me, and sat by the bed, playing with baby, calling her all the pretty -things she could think of; and I felt that her presence brought new light -and life to my room. She brought me another letter from my husband, and -I found that he was now acquiring for himself the “gift” of the French -tongue, unable to do much else, as he and everybody didn’t understand -each other. He could not yet talk to the French-speaking Genevese; and -the English-speaking residents would not listen to him; they had only -heard of Mormonism as a clumsy fraud, and looked upon the prophet Joseph -Smith as an impostor. So, for a whole winter, he sat shut up in his own -room, poring over a French grammar, and deploring his hard fate in being -denied the gift of tongues. - -In the spring of the new year I received a distinguished visitor, who -kindly interested himself in my welfare. The Apostle Lorenzo Snow left -Piedmont for England, and passed through Geneva _en route_. On his way -to London he called upon me at Southampton, and expressed much sympathy -for me. He noticed the change in my appearance, and immediately sent for -Mr. Stenhouse to return to England. He acted very kindly by me at that -time; did all that he could to assist me, and said that he never again -would ask any man to make such a sacrifice. I fully appreciated all his -kindness; but much as I wanted to, I did not venture to ask him about -the truth or falsity of those terrible suggestions which I had heard -whispered of late. - -My husband hastened home, coming by way of Calais, in order to meet his -president and receive his instructions. The Apostle showed much sympathy -for him, and very early in the morning accompanied him some miles to the -railway station; but he never once mentioned how I had been situated in -Southampton until he left him, and then he exacted from him a promise not -to open his lips whatever he might learn. - -I need not say that I was happy to see my husband once again, and to -present to him his little daughter, who was now five months old. He was, -of course, soon busy in visiting the Saints, and he received from them -many tokens of attachment. - -In the beginning of June a General Conference of the branches of -the Church in Britain was held in London. The Apostles and foreign -missionaries were present, and my husband and I were also there. We had -speeches and prayers. The business of the Conference occupied but very -few minutes, for no measure was questioned. Among the Mormons there are -no opinions, no discussion. The presiding head has made out his programme -before he comes to the Conference; he knows what he wants to do, and -no one ever questions him. He may perhaps for form’s sake invite the -brethren to speak on any point he introduces; but when he has furnished -the clue to his wishes, the Elders who speak only spend their time in -arguments in favour of his measures. At the Conference of which I speak -the reports of the native elders were very cheering to us. Throughout -England and Wales they had been most successful in adding members to the -Church. Mormonism was then most successfully preached in Britain. There -were more Mormons there than in all Utah Territory: there were fifty -Conferences, with over seven hundred organized “branches,” and more than -six thousand men ordained to the priesthood. That peculiar influence -which the Mormons call “the Spirit,” of which I have spoken elsewhere, -was spoken of by the Elders as being a common experience everywhere. - -During all that Conference I listened carefully for a word from the lips -of any of the speakers which might indicate in any way that Polygamy was -part of the Mormon faith; but not a whisper, not a hint, was uttered. -I naturally concluded that the Elders, whose doubtful expressions at -Southampton had so troubled my mind, were misinformed or unsafe men. -Still I could not altogether banish my apprehension of coming evil; but -so bound to secrecy were those who did know of Polygamy being practised -in Utah, that there was not one who would admit it, and even my own -husband’s lips were sealed to me. He did not deny it, but he would not -talk about it, and did everything he could to banish the thought from my -mind. - -At that Conference the Apostle Snow spoke very strongly of the way in -which I had been neglected; and it was arranged that Elder Stenhouse -should return to Switzerland, and that I should accompany him. My -knowledge of French was expected to be very serviceable. - -We now made preparations for an early departure, and prepared to leave -our friends. To the reader it may seem strange for a man, his wife, -and babe, to be sent out in this way on a mission without any proper -arrangement for their maintenance; but to my mind, at the time, it seemed -to me not only perfectly proper, but altogether in accordance with God’s -word and commandment. - -My young friend, Mary Burton, came round to bid me good-bye; and the poor -girl wept, and I wept with her, and we kissed one another tenderly as our -tears mingled. We had become very dear to each other, and the thought of -separation for years, or perhaps for ever, was very painful to us. She -hung about my neck at the last moment, kissing me, and begging me not to -forget to write to her very, very often; and this I gladly promised her, -asking the same in return. Then with a fond embrace we parted, and it was -years before I saw her dear face again. - -Thus it was that we three—my husband, my babe, and myself—set forth on -our pilgrimage to convert the Swiss. - -It was with no ordinary feelings that I entered the ancient city of -Geneva. I was not ignorant of its history, and the struggles of its -inhabitants for civil and religious liberty. It had been the refuge for -the English Protestants during the fiery days of Queen Mary; just as -in the time of the French Revolution it was the refuge of infidel and -Papist, royalist and republican alike. There Calvin lived in gloomy -austerity, battling with Rome; there Servetus, the Unitarian, was -condemned to be roasted alive as a heretic; and there we expected in our -own humble way to be able to testify, by our suffering and patience, to -what we firmly believed was the truth. - -In free countries like England and the United states—free from the -surveillance of a military police, it is easy, if he wishes it, for the -missionary to mount a chair at a street corner, or hold forth under a -tree; and such has often been done. But all over continental Europe -there is hardly a place where this would be possible. In the various -grand duchies, kingdoms, and empires, paternal governments look too -closely after the morals and religion of their subjects; while under the -ephemeral republics, as long as they happen to last, there is often to be -found, under the name of liberty, a despotism more despotic than under -the rule of royalty. It is the _colporteur_, the man of books and tracts, -who makes the converts there; and in this slow way we soon found that we -were destined to proceed. - -During my husband’s former stay in Geneva he had had neither Mormon books -nor Mormon papers, with the exception of a paper published at Boulogne, -containing a letter by the Apostle Taylor, in French and English. This -single copy he lent to a Genevese to read, and never saw it again; and -yet in a short time, even before he could properly speak French, he -converted and baptized two men in the Rhone, one of whom is to-day a -devoted Mormon in Southern Utah. - -His first attack was upon a shoemaker, whom he visited for the purpose -of repairs. While the shoemaker worked, Elder Stenhouse talked; and -as the English are all reputed wealthy on the continent, the friendly -overtures of the Mormon missionary were graciously received. As they grew -intimate, Elder Stenhouse would sit down on the bench beside the man as -he worked, and taking from his pocket a French Testament, which he always -carried about with him, would try to read it aloud—the good-natured -shoemaker undertaking to correct his pronunciation. In this way he kept -his auditor’s attention constantly fixed upon certain passages, more -especially those which spoke of baptism for the remission of sins, and -the laying on of hands for the gift of the Holy Ghost. So persistent was -he that at last the shoemaker’s curiosity was awakened, and finally he -was baptized; but unfortunately, not long after a small pamphlet upon the -mission of Joseph Smith fell into his hands, and made shipwreck of his -faith. - -With his second convert he was much more successful. This time it was -his landlord who was to be the subject of attack. He was a tailor, and, -fortunately for the missionary, somewhat talkative. The same arrangement -was made about reading and correction, and with a like result—the tailor -was baptized. Just at this time came the Apostle Snow’s letter, telling -my husband to return to England; and as he might not leave the country -without a representative, he ordained the tailor a priest in the Mormon -Church. - -When we arrived in Geneva, _Monsieur le tailleur_ was all that -constituted the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in -Switzerland. - -Soon a few personal friends began to gather, to hear the English -missionary tell about the new religion; and my husband being very much -in earnest, interest before long began to be excited. I remember well -our first meetings among the Swiss—half-a-dozen people sitting round a -table with open Bibles before them, passages from which Mr. Stenhouse -was trying in very bad French to make them understand. I pitied him very -much, but those who were present made as if they did not notice his -embarrassment, and listened with marked attention. Among the Mormons it -is a woman’s duty to keep silence; I therefore remained a listener only. -But at the close of the service—for such it was regarded—when I might -speak, my missionary labours began; I was aroused to eloquence, and our -parting was longer than our meeting. - -The warmth with which the few who were present responded to our efforts -satisfied me that they had come under the same mysterious influence -which I had observed in England. I was then convinced that Mormonism -could awaken the Christian soul more to a realization of what it already -possessed, than impart to it any new moral or religious qualities. -Mormonism of itself never made Christians, but Christianity built up -Mormonism. It was an awakening to the teachings of Christ and His -Apostles that begat confidence in the mission of the Mormon Prophet. - -Although we observed the very strictest economy, it did not take long -for us to exhaust what little money we brought from England. This placed -us in a very awkward position. It is inconvenient enough to be without -money in one’s own country, where one understands and is understood by -everybody; but to be in a strange land, especially in a country like -Switzerland, where every Englishman is supposed to be a “milor” and the -bounteous dispenser of unlimited wealth, it is more than inconvenient. - -We left our first quarters, where we had had so many visitors, and -rented a room from a widow woman, who fortunately was not inquisitive. -She had a family of children to support; and as we paid our rent monthly -in advance, she had no occasion to know whether or not we kept a bank -account; and we were thankful that it was so, for, had it been so -ordained, we could there have starved to death without attracting the -notice of any one. A nice thing to be thankful for! - -We were not hopeless, though we were heavy hearted; but we had expected -trial, and could not complain, for we knew from the beginning that thus -it would probably be. - -One day my husband received a letter from an infidel gentleman who lived -in Lausanne, a neighbouring canton, requesting him to come and see him, -that they might talk together over Mormonism, for he had heard of us and -of our doctrine; and my husband resolved to visit him before our money -was all gone. - -When Mr. Stenhouse reached Lausanne, he visited first a Protestant -minister with whom he had some slight acquaintance, and who was also -interested in Mormonism, and told him that he was going to call upon the -Gouverneur de l’Hôpital. The minister was greatly opposed to my husband -visiting such a man. “He is a socialist,” he said, “a revolutionist; he -fought at the barricades; he is a _mauvais sujet_, and anything but a fit -person to be spoken to about religion.” - -This only increased the interest which Mr. Stenhouse felt in the -governor, and made him more than ever determined to see him; and he did -see him, although the good minister had represented him “_aussi noir que -le diable_.” So they met; and my husband began the work for which he had -come. They had long talks together, and my husband—as did the elders -ever in such cases—spoke to the governor of redemption through Christ, -and baptism for the remission of sins. Faith is not an act of the will. -Like the unseen wind, it comes, and we see the power thereof, but know -not whence it proceeds. Thus at first the unbelieving governor found it; -he might find himself no match for the arguments of his opponent, but he -could not force his heart to believe, and he was by no means a willing -convert. My husband, however, remained with him; and before he left, the -governor had been baptized into the church. - -Our new convert proved to be a most excellent and worthy man, -notwithstanding his former infidelity, and he was subsequently a great -aid to us in our mission. We felt satisfied that the expenses of that -journey had been well spent, although a few francs at that time could ill -be spared. - -But our circumstances seemed to be getting worse and worse, and my health -began to fail. For several months neither of us had had sufficient -nourishment, and my anxieties increased my physical weakness. I was -dispirited, yet I feared to complain, or even to let my husband know -what I felt. At length I fell really ill, and could not leave my bed. I -well remember the solemn silence that reigned in our home one day. I had -risen from my bed, weak, and oh, so faint-hearted that I had scarcely any -desire to live; and I was sitting with my little daughter in my arms. -She had cried herself to sleep, cold and hungry, and, much as I loved -her—nay, idolized her—I confess that for an instant I harboured in my -soul the impious, the unnatural wish, that rather than see my darling -awake again to cold and hunger, she might sleep her sweet young life -away. For _me_ to yield to such a thought—to wish my child to wake no -more! I, who would have given gladly the last drop of my life-blood to -save her! For _me_ to look upon her innocent little face with such a -thought! I can hardly now believe that such a thing was possible, even -for a moment. But I was desperate, and bold, and cowardly—all at the same -time; or my heart was humiliated by poverty, and my faith was rousing -bitter thoughts in my mind. - -My husband was pacing the room. I knew too well all that was passing in -his mind, although we had long been silent. At length I said to him, -“Take courage, dear, for we are the servants of the great God, and surely -He will find a means of escape for us. We were sent here; we came because -the Lord wanted us to come, and surely He will provide for us!” - -He turned to me in reply, and said kindly, “We can at least have some -water;” and he went for some water; and then, with as reverential feeling -in his soul as ever inspired a grace before dinner, he blessed it, and we -drank. - -We had scarcely done so when the mail-courier brought a letter to our -door. - -Governor Stoudeman, with a feeling of delicacy, had hesitated, when my -husband visited him at Lausanne, to offer him any assistance; but, he -said in his letter, he had been “impressed” to do so, and hoped that we -should not be offended. As the letter was opened, a piece of gold fell -upon the table. We could hardly believe that God had so soon answered -our prayers, and sent us relief; and our emotions of gratitude for this -timely aid, found expression in tears. - -All this time our landlady knew nothing of our distress; she was as -ignorant of our situation as if she had never seen us. So long as I was -able to walk about, I used at regular hours to go to the kitchen, get the -cooking utensils, and go through the routine of cooking, as if we had -had a well-filled larder all the time. I set the table with punctilious -care, and the good old widow never suspected but that we had plenty. Thus -supposing that we wanted nothing, she and her children were more than -ordinarily kind to us and to our little girl, who was now old enough to -toddle round and go from room to room. Very often they would get her into -their room at meal-time, and give her little things to please her; and -while they felt honoured in being permitted to do so, we were silently -thankful for our child’s sake, for her sufferings were more than we could -endure. - -The temporary aid from Lausanne was very welcome to us, though it only -served to make us feel more keenly our dependent position. I might relate -stories, alas, too true! of cold and want; of days, and even almost an -entire week, passed at one time without food—stories which for painful -detail would eclipse romance. It was a weary waiting for Providence! Such -things are better forgotten. And yet I feel that in after years my temper -was more subdued, and my mind more patient under affliction, than it -would have been had I not experienced this preparatory discipline. - -People who have heard, with a sneer, of Mormon missionaries and their -work, would perhaps have realized that faith may be sincere, although -mistaken, if they could have seen us at that time. The first teachers -of a doctrine, whether it be good or evil, if only it stems the current -opinions of the hour, have ever found that at the end of a rocky way -there was waiting for them a crown of thorns. - -Many a time since then I have felt the weight of anxious care in -providing for my family; the trial of our faith has not been light, or -seldom repeated; but those days of trouble in Switzerland were, I think, -the darkest I ever experienced. We realized literally the necessity of -trusting to God’s daily mercies for our daily bread; and the assurance -that the Lord would provide, was our only hope. To say that we practised -the strictest economy, would be to give but a faint idea of the way in -which we had to consider and contrive in order to exist at all. For -years we kept the “Word of Wisdom”—a “Revelation of Joseph Smith,” which -enjoined abstinence from wine, coffee, tea, or, in fact, warm drinks of -any kind; and trifling as such self-denial may at first appear, it was -not really so when other privations were added thereto. For months at a -time we existed—for I dare not say lived—without what are considered, -even by the poorest, the most common necessaries. I can even recall to -mind one trying week in Switzerland, when, for the whole seven long days, -we had less than a pint of corn-flour to live upon, and that was chiefly -reserved for our poor child. - -As I look back to those dark, painful times I feel that it was by little -short of a miracle that our lives were spared. Our faith alone saved us. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -OUR MISSION IN SWITZERLAND—MUTTERINGS OF THE COMING STORM. - - -Very soon after this we were notified that the Apostle Snow was on his -way to Switzerland, and that we might shortly expect him. - -This to me was joyful news, for he had relieved me of my trouble once -before, and I almost looked upon him as my good angel. He came, and -remained with us a few days; and before he left he instructed Mr. -Stenhouse to repair to England, to raise funds to aid the mission. He -also gave me a few pounds to procure what I needed for an event which I -expected shortly to take place. This kindness on his part brought to my -mind such a sense of relief, and so renewed my energy, that I felt ready -for my missionary labours again. - -When my second child was about two months old I went to Lausanne to -reside, while my husband was absent in England. Apartments were engaged -for me at the house of a gentleman who had recently been baptized. I was -made very comfortable there, and for the first time since my husband was -sent on a mission, I experienced a feeling of repose, so that I now had -some hopes of regaining mental and physical strength. No provision had -been made by the Saints for my support; but even without that, I thought, -living among those who were themselves happy, and one with us in the -faith, I should myself find more tranquillity of mind. - -Madame and Monsieur Balif, in whose house I resided, were persons of good -social position. The husband was one of nature’s gentlemen, and as good -a man as I ever knew. He received the Mormonism taught by Mr. Stenhouse -with all his heart, and never seemed weary of showing his gratitude -by his good deeds. Madame Balif did not at once join the church, and -probably never would have done so but for the love which she bore to her -husband. She was not, however, hostile to the new faith, as some other -wives were, and she did all that she could to render pleasant my stay -with them, and tried to make me forget what I had suffered in Geneva. - -Madame Balif was a high-spirited, impulsive woman, and devotedly attached -to her husband; I never saw a woman more so. She impressed me as being -one of the happiest of wives; he one of the best of husbands. After I -had lived in the house a few weeks, she was baptized; but she never was -satisfied with Mormonism. Poor, dear lady! How often have I bitterly -regretted that I was instrumental in leading her into the Mormon Church, -in which, as (years later, in Utah) she told me, she endured such cruel -humiliation and martyrdom. I knew well indeed then what all that meant. - -While I lived with them, it was agreed that I should pay for my -apartments monthly; but after I had paid for the first month, Monsieur -Balif told me that I should do so no more. And knowing that he meant it -as an expression of kindness and gratitude on his part, I felt relieved -of all anxiety on that account. All that I had, even then, for the -support of myself and my two little ones was about five francs ($1) a -week; but my wants were few, for I had taught myself to require nothing -but what was absolutely necessary to keep me alive. - -During Mr. Stenhouse’s absence, the meetings were held in my parlour; -and as the brethren who had joined the church had not previously been -religious men, though they were persons of the best moral character, -they were very diffident about conducting the meetings, and for a time -could not think of praying before others. It devolved upon me—of sheer -necessity, for I disliked prominence as much as they did—to lead the -singing, to pray, to preach—in fact, to do everything. Had I not done so, -they would have sat looking at each other, for they were all too timid to -speak. I encouraged them in every way to try, and finally we got along -very well. A “good spirit” prevailed; and we were like a little band of -brothers and sisters. - -The only person, now, who gave me any anxiety was Madame Balif, who was -very weak in the faith. Her doubts and fears troubled me much, for I -had conceived a very great regard for her. I feared that with a heart -so proud and rebellious as hers, she would never get salvation, and I -trembled for her happiness. How slight a hold the new faith had taken of -her mind, I was forcibly reminded by an incident which was at the time a -great trial to me. - -My little daughter fell sick of intermittent fever, and I dared not call -in a physician; it would not do for me, a missionary’s wife, to show lack -of faith. Such was our zeal in those days. But now, as I once before -stated, even the most orthodox Mormons, including Brigham Young, do not -think of relying upon God and the ordinances of the church, as they used -to in former years, but call in the best physician they can get. - -I was much troubled about my little girl, for she was evidently failing -fast. She had been “administered to” by one of the native elders, who -had anointed her with oil, and prayed over her; but yet she did not get -better. Madame Balif, in the midst of my affliction, taunted me about the -child not recovering, and asked where was the power of God, of which I -had talked so much: “Now,” she said “if you could get that child healed, -it would be some proof to my mind that the power you speak of is still -in the church.” I felt ashamed that I had not exercised more faith. I -was certain that the gift of healing _was_ in the church, and I believed -it was my own fault that the child was not even now well. In my zeal I -replied rather warmly, “My child _will_ be healed, and you shall see -it.” But I had no sooner uttered these words than I began to fear I had -promised too much. - -I determined, however, that nothing on my part should be left undone. I -sent for Governor Stoudeman, our new convert, as he was the president of -the branch and an elder. I told him that this child _must_ be healed by -the power of God. We had not witnessed any manifestation of the healing -power among the Saints in Switzerland up to that time; and I earnestly -desired that now for the first time this gift might be proved among us, -for the sake of the church as well as for my own. So I told the governor -that it was his duty, as well as mine, to fast and pray that the Lord -might grant us this blessing, that it might be a testimony that it was -His work and that we were His servants. - -He became as enthusiastic as I was myself, and we fasted and prayed for -nearly two days. At the end of that time he came to see me, and by the -bedside we knelt and prayed; and he laid his hands upon the child, and -blessed her in the name of the Lord. - -That night the child was very low; and though I strove to show my faith, -I dreaded that she would have her usual attack of fever about midnight. -After the departure of the elder, Madame Balif came into the room, and -said, “Your child is very ill; if your God cannot help her, why do not -you send for a physician?” This appeared to me so profane, and such an -insult to my God and my faith, that I replied indignantly, “Madame, she -_will_ and _shall_ be healed this very night; for I know that power is in -the church. The reason why the child was not healed before is, because I -have not been earnest enough in seeking the Lord.” - -When I was left alone I sat down by the bedside, trembling lest I had -been too rash in declaring that the child would be healed that same -night. Much and fondly as I loved my little treasure, I confess that I -suffered more at the thought of God’s name suffering reproach than I -did from fear of my darling’s death; and I tried earnestly to banish my -doubts, with the remembrance that all things are possible to them that -believe. - -Kneeling there in the dark and lonesome midnight, I poured out my soul -fervently to God, beseeching Him, for His kingdom’s sake, and for the -glory of His great name, to answer, and not to suffer my unworthiness to -stand in the way. I watched hour after hour beside my darling’s bed, and -the child slept on peacefully, without any symptoms of returning fever; -and, oh! how anxiously I waited for her awaking. - -At last, worn out with fatigue and watching, I laid myself down on the -bed beside her, and soon fell asleep; and when I awoke it was daylight, -and my little one was peacefully sleeping on still—the fever had left -her. No tongue could tell the gratitude which filled my heart; I could -only weep tears of joy, and sing aloud my praise to God. - -Madame Balif entered the room early in the morning to see what kind of -a night we had passed. Then I drew her to the bedside, and told her how -tranquilly the child had slept all night, and showed her how much better -she looked, and asked her if she did not see in all this the providence -of God. But she simply said, “Ah, well! I suppose the disease had run its -course.” This grieved me, for I had trusted that such a direct answer -to my prayers would have helped to increase her faith in our religion; -but Mormonism had not touched her heart; and I believe it is much more -the devotion of the heart than it is the mental acquiescence in doctrine -which gives us the power to hope, and endure, and believe. - -When, by-and-by, my little Clara awoke, she was evidently very much -better, and not only free from the fever, but bright and cheerful, like -her former self; and she never relapsed. In the course of a week she was -running about as well as ever, and the Saints were greatly confirmed in -their faith. - -One morning, not long after this, Madame Balif brought me a letter which, -as it bore the English postmark, she supposed came from my husband. The -writing, however, was strange to me; and dreading that some terrible -thing might have happened, I tore it open. There, at the bottom of the -last page—for the letter was very long—in neat, clear characters, was the -signature of my fairy friend, as I called her, Mary Burton. I read the -letter through with the deepest interest. It was addressed “To darling -Sister Stenhouse,” and was overflowing with affection. Used as I was to -all her endearing ways, I could almost fancy that while I read I heard -her speaking the words. After a great outpouring of love, she said,— - - “Since you went, I have grown quite an old woman. You used - to call me ‘Little fairy,’ but, Sister Stenhouse, I am much - bigger now. I am now a good deal over seventeen, and people say - that I am getting to be quite a woman. I might tell you some - other pretty things that are said about me, but I’m afraid you - would say it was all vanity of vanities. If you stay away much - longer, you won’t recognize me when we meet again. - - “And now I want to tell you something that interests you as - much as me. I have not been able to discover anything more - with certainty about those hateful things of which I told you, - although the word Polygamy seems to me to become every day much - more familiar in people’s conversation. Elder Shrewsbury tells - me that there is not a word of truth in it; and he has had a - good deal of conversation upon that subject with the apostles - who are here, and also with a man named Curtis E. Bolton—an - Elder from the Salt Lake; and they all positively declare that - it is a foul slander upon the Saints of the Most High. So you - see that all our unhappiness was for naught. Our Saviour said - we should be blessed when all men spoke evil of us falsely for - His name’s take; and the wicked scandal which has been raised - against our religion has had a tendency to strengthen my faith, - which you know was rather wavering. - - “And yet do you know, Sister Stenhouse, that even while I am - writing to you in this strain, I am weak enough to allow doubts - and fears to creep into my heart when I think of the conduct of - some of the American brethren. - - “They appear to me, for married men, to act _so very_ - imprudently; and to call their conduct ‘imprudent’ is really - treating it with the greatest leniency, for I have often been - quite shocked at the way in which some of the brethren and - sisters acted. But I will tell you a little about it, and you - shall judge for yourself. - - “When I found out, as I had long suspected, that dear papa was - going to marry again, I at once resolved that I would no longer - be a burden to him, but would find some employment, and support - myself. I was induced to do this, partly because as you know, - step-mothers and daughters do not always love each other quite - as much as they might. So I communicated my wishes to papa, - and told him that I had been introduced to a very nice lady, - who had a large dressmaking establishment at the west end of - London. She is a member of the Church, and has always been - very highly spoken of. I told him that she employed a number - of highly respectable young girls, and that four, at least, of - them were members of the Church, and that, in consideration - of my lonely situation, and at the earnest request of Elder - Shrewsbury, she was willing to take me into her house, to board - and lodge me, and teach me the business thoroughly, if my - father would pay her a premium of fifty pounds. - - “This papa readily agreed to do, as I expected he would, for - he is so taken up with my step-mamma that is to be; and beside - which he has, I know, been unfortunate lately in some railway - speculations, and has lost a great deal of money, and therefore - wishes to economize. In this way I went to London, and became a - member of Mrs. Elsworth’s family—and here I am still. - - “Now you have been in London, Sister Stenhouse, and must - remember ‘the office’ in Jewin Street—the head-quarters where - all the elders congregate, and where the American elders board, - and church business is managed. Well, the very first week I was - at Mrs. Elsworth’s I noticed that the four young sisters who - were working there were constantly talking of Jewin Street, - and the dear American brethren who were stopping there. One of - them in particular was always talking about dear Elder Snow; - and another girl whispered to me that she went to Jewin Street - every evening, and frequently remained there to tea with him, - and went afterwards to the theatre with him, or to a meeting, - as the case might be; and the young lady added, ‘She does make - such a fuss over him, toying with him, and brushing and combing - his hair. I know that she does it, for I have been there with - her, and have seen her do it; and he appears to enjoy it quite - as much as she does; and I believe, if Polygamy was true he - would marry her.’ - - “‘But,’ I said, ‘it is not true, and therefore it is very wrong - for her to act in that way, for he is a married man.’ - - “‘Oh, but you know,’ she answered, ‘that we are all brothers - and sisters, and the brethren tell us that those little - attentions make them feel that they are not so far from home, - and they are thus enabled to perform their mission better; and - if that is so, it is the duty of the young sisters to encourage - them. These _little attentions_ cost nothing, and I’m sure it’s - quite a pleasure to me.’ - - “‘Then _you_ go to Jewin Street?’ I asked. - - “‘Yes,’ she said, ‘sometimes, but not very often, for _my_ - elder calls here frequently, as he is acquainted with Mrs. - Elsworth; and then I take my work up into the parlour - sometimes, and have a long talk with him. Mrs. Elsworth does - not like it, I know, but she does not care to oppose the - elders;—in fact, her husband will not allow any such thing—he - has dared her to do so. After all, she is very silly, for we - ought to love each other and be free and friendly. My elder—I - call him _my_ elder, you know, simply because I like him better - than the others—calls Mrs. Elsworth ‘Gentilish,’ and says - she’ll get over it when she goes to Zion. But she says she - won’t. She is awfully jealous of her husband and a certain Miss - Caroline somebody, though she doesn’t care for him.’ - - “‘But what difference can it make to him?’ I asked her. ‘He has - a wife, and ought not to pay attention to any other woman.’ - - “‘Ah, you silly child,’ she said, ‘it is only brotherly love, - after all, and men often have wives who do not make them happy, - and that makes them seek the society of the young sisters, for - those who are far from home are lonely. My own elder’s wife is - here in London, but he isn’t much with her. He spends nearly - all his time in Jewin Street; he is a travelling Elder, and - when he is going anywhere to preach he always calls for me, - as he does not like going alone, he is such a genial soul. If - Polygamy were true, I’d promise to marry him when we reached - the Valley.’ - - “Then I asked why his wife didn’t go with him; and she said, - ‘Oh, poor man! he has no pleasure in _her_ society. She is - always moping and unhappy. You know, some women are naturally - so. I do all I can to make him feel well, for it must be awful - to be married to a woman who is always sad.’ - - “I asked her _why_ his wife should be so unhappy; and she said, - ‘He tells me that she has got it into her head that somehow or - other Polygamy is practised in Zion; and I’m sure I, for one, - wish it was so, for then we could marry whoever we pleased.’ - - “‘Oh, for shame!’ I said. ‘I’m sure I’d never go there, if I - thought so.’ - - “Then I asked her whether she did not think it was wrong for - her to encourage the attentions of _her_ elder; and she said, - ‘He wishes it just as much as I do; and his wife had better - behave herself, or I’ll marry him whether Polygamy exists or - not in Zion; and he does not know, though we both suspect, - that there _is_ something in the rumours which we have heard.’ - Then I told her I thought it was very wicked to encourage the - visits of that man; for I believe that if he paid a little more - attention to his wife she would be less unhappy—for I suppose - she knew of his attentions to her. - - “She said the wife knew nothing about it; that he was obliged - to be out late at night, preaching, or at Jewin Street—which I - knew meant flirting with the sisters and going to the theatre; - and I fancy he does more of that than preaching. But she seemed - to think it was all the wife’s fault, and blamed her. I asked - her if she would like to be treated so, if she were an Elder’s - wife, and had to work as hard and endure as much as all the - Missionaries’ wives do. But she said she never could be in - such a position, and told me that I was not a good Mormon or I - would not set myself up as the accuser of the brethren. But I - ask you, Sister Stenhouse, if that is the Mormonism which the - elders used to teach us? - - “And now I have told you all our long talk together, and so you - can judge for yourself what a change has taken place since you - left. - - “The same day, after dinner, Brother Snow called, in company - with two other elders, to see Mrs. Elsworth, and to ask her and - the girls to a tea-party the next day. Mrs. Elsworth declined; - but one young lady would go with Brother Snow, and Miss - Caroline went with another elder; and my light-hearted friend - waited till _her_ Elder came also to ask _her_. After that, - came Elder Shrewsbury, and I, of course, was to go with him. - - “With all my faith, I am very much troubled about these things. - They are not right, I think. Why, scarcely a day passes but - some of these elders, who appear to have very little to do, - call here, and send for one or two of these young sisters, and - detain them from their work, much to the annoyance of poor Mrs. - Elsworth, who, I believe, will apostatize over it eventually. - - “See what a long letter I have written to you! I am afraid it - will tire you. I often long to have you here, that I might come - to you and tell you all my troubles. But perhaps after all I - am wrong, and ought to see things in a different light. Have - not the Elders and Apostles positively denied that Polygamy or - any other sin was practised in Utah, or formed any part of the - Mormon religion? and we know that these men of God would not - deceive us. - - “Be sure, dear, to write a nice long letter to me _very soon_; - and, with fondest love, remember your own - - “MARY BURTON.” - -I read this letter carefully through, and I sat down and thought of -dear Mary Burton, and felt deeply sorry that she should be placed in a -situation surrounded by so many temptations. To myself the letter brought -a sad confirmation of all my fears. There was something painful in the -thought. Had Polygamy been openly avowed as a Mormon doctrine, I should -never have joined the Church. But now, what could I do? - -After three months’ absence, Mr. Stenhouse was to return home, and I went -to Geneva to meet him, feeling very happy when I saw him once again. -Numbers of persons, both in Geneva and Lausanne had been converted while -he was away, and were waiting for him to baptize them—among them was -a retired Protestant minister, Monsieur Petitpierre, of whom I have -something yet to mention. We began at last to rejoice in our success, and -to be thankful that the Lord had answered our prayers. - -I was now more than ever anxious about Polygamy. From much thinking on -that subject, it had become the haunting spectre of my existence, and -I dreaded what every day might bring forth. The news which my husband -brought with him by no means reassured me. He told me that he had heard -in England from the American Elders that there was a general expectation -among the Saints in Utah that at the October Conference in Salt Lake -City, Brigham Young would publish to the world that Polygamy was a -doctrine of the Mormon Church. - -After all the prevarications and denials then of the Apostles and -Elders, Polygamy among the Saints was really a fact. As the truth -became clearer to my mind, I thought I should lose my senses. The very -foundations of my faith were shaken, and not only did I feel a personal -repugnance to the unholy doctrine, but I began to realize that the men -to whom I had listened with such profound respect, and had regarded as -the representatives of God, had been guilty of the most deliberate and -unblushing falsehood; and I began to ask myself whether, if they could -do this in order to carry out their purpose in one particular, they -might not be guilty of deception upon other points? _Who_ could I trust -now? For ten years the Mormon Prophets and Apostles had been living in -Polygamy at home, while abroad they vehemently denied it, and spoke of -it as a deadly sin. This was a painful awakening to me; we had all of us -been betrayed. I lost confidence in man, and almost began to question -within myself whether I could even trust in God. - -There was no argument between Mr. Stenhouse and myself. It would have -been worse than useless, for it was not his doing, and he assured me that -he had as great a repugnance to the doctrine as I had. He had at first -only hinted that it _might_ eventually be acknowledged by the leaders of -the Church; but it was a matter of too deeply a personal character for me -to keep silence, and I did not rest until he had told me all. He had not -seen the revelation, but the information which he had received was beyond -a question; and singularly enough Elder Margetts, the London Elder of -whose flirtation in Southampton I have already spoken, was at that time -on a visit to Switzerland, and confirmed all that my husband had said. -Thus the very man who, two years before, first excited my suspicions, now -confirmed my fears, and openly stated as a fact that which he then was -ashamed almost to suggest. - -Elder Margetts had been in Utah from the time I saw him in England, and -was now on a mission to Italy. He knew, therefore, very well what was -said and done among the Saints in Zion. I, and those like me, whose faith -was not too strong, were spoken of as “babes” to whom milk only must -be given; and in this way any deception necessary to quiet our tender -consciences was allowable; but Elder Margetts was one of the “strong -men,” to whom meat was necessary—in other words, they were initiated into -all the mysteries of the faith. - -My husband enjoined me not to speak of what I had heard, and I felt very -little inclination to do so—my heart was too full. The pleasant dreams -and hopes of life were ended now to me. What could I look forward too? -Henceforth the stern realities of a lonely and weary existence were all -the future that should be mine. - -Still, the “Revelation” sanctioning a change in the doctrines and -practice of the church, was not yet published; and until polygamy was -openly avowed I felt that the doom of my happiness was not yet sealed; -and like many another heart-broken woman, I hoped against hope. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -THE REVELATION ON “CELESTIAL MARRIAGE.” - - -And time flew by; and at length the dreaded Revelation came. - -One very pleasant morning, early in January, 1853, two Elders of the -Italian Mission, Jabez Woodward and Thomas Margetts, took breakfast with -us; and with them also was Mons. Petitpierre from Geneva, the Protestant -minister of whom I have already spoken. While I was busy preparing the -meal, Mr Stenhouse and the two English elders went to the post office to -get their letters, for at that time they were expecting important news. -When they returned, breakfast was quite ready, and they took their seats -at the table. I asked if there were any letters from England; and my -husband said, “No, no letters; but there is a _Star_, and it contains the -Revelation on Polygamy.” - -He handed me a copy of the _Millennial Star_, a Mormon paper published -in Liverpool; and as I took it, I felt as if I were receiving my -death-warrant. It was indeed the death-warrant to all my hopes of -happiness. I rose from the table, asking them to excuse me; and overcome -with agitation and conflicting emotions, I retired to my own chamber. -There, for the first time, I read that document which has since brought -such sorrow and misery to so many wronged and heart-broken women. The -reader may perhaps like to see the only foundation and authority for -the practice of polygamy ever produced by the Mormon leaders. So I copy -_exactly_ from the _Millennial Star_ what I then read, leaving out only a -few lines here and there, which had no special reference to the subject, -but helped to swell the size of the “Revelation:”— - - CELESTIAL MARRIAGE: - - A REVELATION ON THE PATRIARCHAL ORDER OF MATRIMONY, OR - PLURALITY OF WIVES. - - _Given to Joseph Smith, the Seer, in Nauvoo, July 12th, 1843._ - - 1. Verily, thus saith the Lord, unto you, my servant Joseph, - that inasmuch as you have inquired of my hand, to know and - understand wherein I, the Lord, justified my servants, - Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; as also Moses, David, and Solomon, - my servants, as touching the principle and doctrine of - their having many wives and concubines: Behold! and lo, I - am the Lord thy God, and will answer thee as touching this - matter: Therefore prepare thy heart to receive and obey the - instructions which I am about to give unto you; for all those - who have this law revealed unto them must obey the same; for - behold! I reveal unto you a new and everlasting covenant, and - if ye abide not that covenant, then are ye damned; for no one - can reject this covenant, and be permitted to enter into my - glory; for all who will have a blessing at my hands shall abide - the law which is appointed for that blessing and the conditions - thereof, as was instituted from before the foundations of the - world: and as pertaining to the new and everlasting covenant, - it was instituted for the fulness of my glory; and he that - receiveth a fulness thereof, must and shall abide the law, or - he shall be damned, saith the Lord God. - - 2. And verily I say unto you, that the conditions of this law - are these: All covenants, contracts, bonds, obligations, oaths, - vows, performances, connexions, associations, or expectations, - that are not made or entered into, and sealed, by the Holy - Spirit of promise, of him who is anointed both as well for time - and for all eternity, and that too most holy, by revelation and - commandment, through the medium of mine anointed, whom I have - appointed on the earth to hold this power (and I have appointed - unto my servant Joseph to hold this power in the last days; - and there is never but one on the earth at a time on whom this - power and the keys of the priesthood are conferred), are of no - efficacy, virtue, or force, in and after the resurrection from - the dead: for all contracts that are not made unto this end, - have an end when men are dead. - - ... - - 4. Therefore, if a man marry him a wife in the world, and he - marry her not by me, nor by my word; and he covenant with her - so long as he is in the world, and she with him, their covenant - and marriage is not of force when they are dead, and when they - are out of the world; therefore they are not bound by any law - when they are out of the world; therefore, when they are out of - the world, they neither marry, nor are given in marriage, but - are appointed angels in heaven, which _angels are ministering - servants_, to minister for those who are worthy of a far - more, and an exceeding, and an eternal weight of glory; for - these angels did not abide my law, therefore they cannot be - enlarged, but remain separately and singly, without exaltation, - in their saved condition, to all eternity, and from henceforth - are not gods, but are angels of God for ever and ever. - - 5. And again, verily I say unto you, if a man marry a wife, - and make a covenant with her for time, and for all eternity, - if that covenant is not by me, or by my word, which is my law, - and is not sealed by the Holy Spirit of promise, through him - whom I have anointed and appointed unto this power, then it is - not valid, neither of force, when they are out of the world, - because they are not joined by me, saith the Lord, neither by - my word; when they are out of the world, it cannot be received - there, because the angels and the gods are appointed there, - by whom they cannot pass; they cannot, therefore, inherit my - glory, for my house is a house of order, saith the Lord God. - - 6. And again, verily I say unto you, if a man marry a wife - by my word, which is my law, and by the new and everlasting - covenant, and it is sealed unto them by the Holy Spirit - of promise, by him who is anointed, unto whom I have - appointed this power, and the keys of this priesthood, and - it shall be said unto them, Ye shall come forth in the first - resurrection; and if it be after the first resurrection, in - the next resurrection; and shall inherit thrones, kingdoms, - principalities, and powers, dominions, all heights and - depths—then shall it be written in the Lamb’s Book of Life, - that he shall commit no murder whereby to shed innocent blood; - and if ye abide in my covenant and commit no murder whereby - to shed _innocent blood_, it shall be done unto them in all - things whatsoever my servant hath put upon them, in time, and - through all eternity, and shall be of full force when they are - out of the world; and they shall pass by the angels, and the - gods, which are set there, to their exaltation and glory in all - things, as hath been sealed upon their heads, which glory shall - be a fulness and a continuation of the seeds for ever and ever. - - 7. Then shall they be gods, because they have no end; therefore - shall they be from everlasting to everlasting, because they - continue; then shall they be above all, because all things are - subject unto them. Then shall they be gods, because they have - all power, and the angels are subject unto them. - - ... - - 9. Verily, verily I say unto you, if a man marry a wife - according to my word, and they are sealed by the Holy Spirit of - promise, according to mine appointment, and he or she shall - commit any sin or transgression of the new and everlasting - covenant whatever, and all manner of blasphemies, and if they - commit no murder, _wherein they shed innocent blood_—yet they - shall come forth in the first resurrection, and enter into - their exaltation, but _they shall be destroyed in the flesh_, - and shall be delivered unto the buffetings of Satan, unto the - day of redemption, saith the Lord God. - - 10. The blasphemy against the Holy Ghost, which shall not be - forgiven in this world, nor out of the world, is in that ye - commit murder, wherein ye shed innocent blood, and assent - unto my death, after ye have received my new and everlasting - covenant, saith the Lord God; and he that abideth not this law - can in no wise enter into my glory, but shall be damned, saith - the Lord. - - ... - - 13. God commanded Abraham, and Sarah gave Hagar to Abraham, - to wife. And why did she do it? Because this was the law. And - from Hagar sprang many people. This, therefore, was fulfilling, - among other things, the promises. Was Abraham, therefore, under - condemnation? Verily, I say unto you, _Nay_; for I, the Lord, - commanded it. Abraham was commanded to offer his son Isaac; - nevertheless, it was written, Thou shalt not kill. Abraham, - however, did not refuse, and it was accounted to him for - righteousness. - - 14. Abraham received concubines, and they bare him children, - and it was accounted unto him for righteousness, because they - were given unto him, and he abode in my law. As Isaac also - and Jacob did none other things than that which they were - commanded, they have entered into their exaltation, according - to the promises, and sit upon thrones; and are not angels, but - are gods. David also received many wives and concubines, as - also Solomon, and Moses my servant; as also many others of my - servants, from the beginning of the creation until this time; - and in nothing did they sin, save in those things which they - received not of me. - - 15. David’s wives and concubines were given unto him of me, by - the hand of Nathan, my servant, and others of the prophets who - had the keys of this power; and in none of these things did he - sin against me, save in the case of Uriah and his wife; and - therefore, he hath fallen from his exaltation, and received his - portion; and he shall not inherit them out of the world; for I - gave them unto another, saith the Lord. - - 16. I am the Lord thy God, and I gave unto thee, my servant - Joseph, an appointment, and restore all things.... I have - conferred upon you the keys and power of the priesthood, - wherein I restore all things, and make known unto you all - things, in due time. - - 17. And verily, verily I say unto you, that whosoever you - seal on earth shall be sealed in heaven; and whatsoever you - bind on earth, in my name, and by my word, saith the Lord, if - shall be eternally bound in the heavens; and whosoever sins - you remit on earth shall be remitted eternally in the heavens; - and whosesoever sins you retain on earth shall be retained in - heaven. - - 18. And again, verily I say, whomsoever you bless I will bless, - and whomsoever you curse I will curse, saith the Lord; for I, - the Lord, am thy God. - - 19. And again, verily I say unto you, my servant Joseph, that - whatsoever you give on earth, and to whomsoever you give any - one on earth, by my word, and according to my law, it shall be - visited with blessings. - - ... - - 20. Verily I say unto you, a commandment I give unto mine - handmaid Emma Smith, your wife ... let mine handmaid Emma Smith - receive all those that have been given unto my servant Joseph, - and who are virtuous and pure before me; and those who are not - pure, and have said they were pure, shall be destroyed, saith - the Lord God!... I give unto my servant Joseph, that he shall - be made ruler over many things, for he hath been faithful over - a few things, and from henceforth I will strengthen him. - - 21. And I command mine handmaid Emma Smith to abide and cleave - unto my servant Joseph, and to none else. But if she will not - abide this commandment, she shall be destroyed, saith the Lord; - for I am the Lord thy God, and will destroy her if she abide - not in my law; but if she will not abide this commandment, - then shall my servant Joseph do all things for her, even as he - hath said; and I will bless him, and multiply him, and give - unto him a hundredfold in this world, of fathers and mothers, - brothers and sisters, houses and lands, wives and children, - and crowns of eternal lives in the eternal worlds. And again, - verily I say, let mine handmaid forgive my servant Joseph his - trespasses, and then shall she be forgiven her trespasses, - wherein she has trespassed against me; and I, the Lord thy God, - will bless her, and multiply her, and make her heart to rejoice. - - ... - - 24. And again, as pertaining to the law of the priesthood: If - any man espouse a virgin, and desire to espouse another, and - the first give her consent; and if he espouse the second, and - they are virgins, and have vowed to no other man, then is he - justified. He cannot commit adultery, for they are given him; - for he cannot commit adultery with that that belongeth unto - him, and to none else; and if he have ten virgins given unto - him by this law, he cannot commit adultery, for they belong to - him; and they are given unto him—therefore is he justified. - But if one or other of the ten virgins, after she is espoused, - shall be with another man, she has committed adultery, and - shall be destroyed; for they are given unto him to multiply and - replenish the earth, according to my commandment, and to fulfil - the promise which was given by my Father before the foundation - of the world; and for their exaltation in the eternal worlds, - that they may bear the souls of men; for herein is the work of - my Father continued, that he may be glorified. - - 25. And again, verily, verily I say unto you, if any man has - a wife who holds the keys of this power, and he teaches unto - her the law of my priesthood, as pertaining to these things, - then shall she believe and administer unto him, or she shall - be destroyed, saith the Lord your God; for I will destroy her; - for I will magnify my name upon all those who receive and - abide in my law. Therefore it shall be lawful in me, if she - receive not this law, for him to receive all things whatsoever - I, the Lord his God, will give unto him, because she did not - believe and administer unto him, according to my word; and she - then becomes the transgressor, and he is exempt from the law - of Sarah, who administered unto Abraham according to the law, - when I commanded Abraham to take Hagar to wife. And now, as - pertaining to this law: Verily, verily I say unto you, I will - reveal more unto you hereafter; therefore, let this suffice for - the present. Behold, I am Alpha and Omega. Amen.... - -And this was the Revelation!—this mass of confusion, cunning absurdity, -and falsehood. _This_ was the celebrated document which was henceforth -to be law to the confiding men and women who had embraced Mormonism! -Looking at it now—noting its inconsistencies and its flagrant outrage -upon common decency and morality, I can hardly credit that I should ever -have been such a silly dupe as to give it a second thought. And yet, what -_could_ I do? I was bound hand and foot, as it were, and my very vision -itself was distorted. Unquestioning obedience, we had been taught, was -the highest virtue; rebellion was as the sin of witchcraft. I had been -convinced of the truth of some of the tenets of the Mormon faith; and -confident in them, I accepted without question all the rest. Never, -till the possibility that polygamy might some day be acknowledged by -the Church, began to be whispered among the Saints—never did a solitary -doubt respecting my religion intrude itself upon my mind; and after my -apprehensions were fairly aroused by those rumours, whenever I felt the -faintest shadow of unbelief or suspicion arising in my heart, I banished -it as an unholy thing. The time had not yet come when I could judge -dispassionately: the Revelation aroused within me feelings of horror -and dismay, but I did not dare to question its authenticity. It brought -bitterness to my soul, but I believed it was from God, and that I must -learn to bear the cross patiently. - -I did not at that time read the document through from beginning to end. -No; my indignation was such that before I had read half of it I threw -it from me in anger. Perhaps if I had read it all, and considered it -carefully, my own judgment and my sense of right and wrong might have -pointed out its absurdity and wickedness. But I was far from being -tranquil enough to think calmly. I felt bitterly that this new doctrine -was a degradation to woman, and I wondered why God should see fit to -humiliate my sex in this way. I was willing to devote myself, my life, my -all to His service, but wherefore should He doom me to everlasting sorrow? - -What now was to be a woman’s lot among the Mormons? A life without -hope! Who can express the terrible meaning of those words—_without -hope_? Yet so it was. Hereafter our hearts were to be daily and hourly -trampled upon; the most sacred feelings of our sex were to be outraged, -our affections were to be crushed. Henceforth we were to be nothing by -ourselves; without a husband, we were told, we could not even enter -heaven! But had our trials been limited to this life we might have borne -them, as many a weary soul has done, waiting for the relief of death. -But death was to bring no hope to us; we were told that in the other -world polygamy should be the only order of marriage, and that without it -none could be exalted in glory. We were told these things by men who we -believed were true and holy men of God; and we trusted in them. - -Rebellious I felt, indeed, as I paced the room after I had thrown the -Revelation on the ground: I almost felt as if I should lose my reason. -A woman in the time of trouble always looks to some one in whom she can -confide; but to whom could I turn for one kind or cheering word? _who_ -would comfort me? I had neither relation nor friend to whom I could -speak of _this_ trial; there was no one who could understand me. I could -not turn to my husband in _this_ sorrow, and I dared not even kneel to -my God to implore His aid. It was He, they said, who had declared this -Revelation was His will; how then could I turn to Him? No; my heart sank -within me; henceforth there was to be no hope, no peace, for me! - -There was a knock at my chamber door, and my husband came in. He knew how -acutely I must feel, and he came to comfort me. I was almost choked with -emotion and tears, but he threw his arms round me tenderly, and spoke to -me as if I had been a child that needed consolation. He tried to persuade -me that God as a loving Father could never have intended the pain or -misery of His children, and that when we came to understand the doctrine -better, we should find that all would be well. He spoke also of his own -unchanging attachment; and appealed to me whether I thought he could ever -love me less, or place his affections on another. - -I tried to believe, and when I felt a little better I went with him to -the breakfast-room, where the others were waiting for us. - -We were not a very entertaining party that morning. The Elders present -of course knew what had kept me in my room, and their attempt at -cheerfulness was not very successful. My husband was in sympathy with me, -and I have no doubt that I looked sad enough. There was only one person -present who did not appreciate the situation—Monsieur Petitpierre, the -Protestant minister—and they handed the Revelation to him. Mr. Stenhouse -and the other Elders had some misgivings as to how he would receive it, -and they were afraid it might disgust him with Mormonism. But the old -gentleman stood the test bravely; and I saw then, as I have seen since, -that men can be easily satisfied that the Revelation on Polygamy, or _any -other_ revelation, is divine, if they desire, it to be so. - -Here was old Monsieur Petitpierre, a man of more than threescore years, -and childless. To him the example of Abraham and Solomon appeared most -instructive—an example which might be followed with advantage. His wife, -like Sarah of old, had never been called by a mother’s name; and now, -although thus far he had no idea who might act the part of a second -Hagar, there seemed a fair chance that a little Ishmael might perpetuate -the race of Petitpierres on earth, if only the Revelation was acted upon -by the faithful. - -“It ought to be prayerfully thought of,” he said. - -Prayerfully thought of! Poor, silly old man! Before then I had respect -for his years and learning; but now—what could I think of a man who -talked such nonsense? Had the Revelation told him that the wife of -his youth, now tottering in step, and with hair silvered by age, was -commanded to take two or a dozen young husbands—I wondered whether he -would have added with such satisfaction “It ought to be prayerfully -thought of!” - -From that day I learned to regard polygamy as an essential part of the -Mormon faith, and such for many years the world has considered it; but -when I first joined the church, such an innovation would have appeared to -the European Saints beyond the wildest fancies of a dream. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -MISSIONARY WORK—TEACHING POLYGAMY. - - -I now entered upon a new phase of my missionary life; the Elders assured -me that it was my duty to teach polygamy to the women of Switzerland. - -Hitherto, although I had suffered much from poverty and privation, my -work as a missionary had been very pleasant. I believed with my whole -heart all that I taught, and my best wishes for the people around me were -that they might become altogether such as I was, except in my sufferings. - -Now, however, all this was changed. It was no longer salvation through -faith in Christ, or repentance, or baptism; it was no longer love and -peace for this world, and the promise of everlasting joy in the world to -come, that I was called upon to teach. My task hitherto had been a labour -of love; now it was to be a weary work of pain. How could I teach the -sisters, the affection of whose guileless hearts I had won to myself—how -could I teach them that which my own heart abhorred, a doctrine which I -hated with my whole soul! - -How I strove against my rebellious nature! how I battled with myself! -That God had sent the Revelation I never questioned, and all rebellion -to His will I knew must be sinful. I had no thought of evading the -responsibility; my heart must be subdued. It might be subdued; it might -be crushed and broken; but I could never again, I felt, be truly happy. -I tried to reason with myself, and to persuade myself that it was I who -was to blame and not the Revelation. If the Lord required me to submit, -it must be for some good purpose; and I must not refuse the cross -that He called upon me to bear. Sometimes for a few moments something -would attract my attention and divert my thoughts; but the terrible -reality—polygamy, refused to be ignored, and I felt all the more bitterly -afterwards. I never was happy, for life had lost its charm to me. Ere I -slept at night one dreadful thought was haunting my pillow—it disturbed -my very dreams; and when I awoke in the morning, it was with a feverish -apprehension of coming evil hanging over me. All through the long, weary -day it haunted my footsteps like a spectre; and like a fearful blight -that had fallen upon me, it seemed to be withering my soul. One thought -was ever present in my mind—that thought, polygamy! - -It can be no wonder that I lost all interest in life, and that I should -almost wish to die rather than live that life of degradation which I -dreaded would be mine. But death flies from those who woo her; the -wretched, the weary, the hopeless, they find her not. I felt that there -was no rest for me. My only comfort was in my children; no revelation, I -felt, could change their relationship to me. But over my little daughter -Clara I mourned, for I thought if this revelation were acted upon by -the Saints, as doubtless it would be, she would some day be called upon -to suffer as I did. How little did I then, however, anticipate in what -way my fears would be realized! My Clara became the daughter-in-law of -Brigham Young, having married his eldest son, Joseph A. Young. - -I am afraid at that time I was somewhat of a trial to my husband, for -my heart was not yet quite subdued. I grew impatient at the wrong which -I felt had been done to me, and I often said bitter things against the -Prophet of the Lord and all his sex, including my husband, who was then, -and for years after, a devoted Mormon, and was quite horrified at what -I said. He often told me that I was a great hindrance to him, and that -it was impossible for any one who lived with me to enjoy the Spirit of -God—and I was afraid that he only spoke the truth. - -Then I repented, and sought to chasten myself; and I fasted and prayed, -and asked forgiveness of God and my husband. But even when most subdued -I was as unhappy as ever, and some one was sure to say something which -reminded me of my trouble; and whenever the elders came to the house they -were sure to discuss the one painful topic. Then my indignant feelings -all came back again, and I felt the spirit of rebellion stirring within -me. I could not help it, for I felt that woman’s nature itself was -insulted by the degrading doctrine, and any mention of it excited my -anger. - -My husband and the Elders had anticipated that I would not readily -submit, and they bore with me as patiently as they could, losing no -opportunity of strengthening me in the faith, ever keeping before me the -obligation that rested upon me in particular to explain the doctrine -to the Swiss sisters. They knew very well that nothing tends more to -confirm the faith of the wavering than setting them to teach others. -Brigham Young has always acted on this principle, and whenever any of the -brethren have evinced signs of doubt or disaffection they have been at -once despatched on a mission. Their efforts to convert others established -their own faith. - -Among the Swiss we had never spoken on polygamy or any kindred subject, -and we were therefore spared the humiliation which the British Elders -experienced in having to retract their own teachings. Nevertheless, -Mr. Stenhouse and the other Elders felt great anxiety as to how the -new doctrine would be received. My husband did not at once openly tell -them that such a Revelation had been sent from Zion; but whenever an -opportunity presented he took them aside singly, and spoke to them -about the ancient patriarchs who practised polygamy; and so great was -his influence with the converts that he soon won them over to the -new teaching, and made them feel that they would not be justified -in rejecting the Revelation. Many of the Swiss Saints before their -conversion had been more Socialists than Christians, and they probably -thought that this change in the marriage institution was a sign of -advancing intellectual supremacy; but their wives were very far from -sharing these opinions with them. - -After many days and nights of prayer and fasting I prepared myself for -my work. To a certain extent I had brought my own self under control—or -I thought I had; and I almost felt anxious to begin, so that I might get -over the painful scenes which I fully anticipated. It was agreed that -Madame Balif, of whom I have already spoken as being rather sceptical -when my child recovered from her critical condition, should be the first -to whom the intelligence should be imparted, for it was thought that if -she accepted this Revelation without much difficulty, the other sisters -would be more easily won over. She was a well educated and intelligent -woman, and had seen a good deal of the world. She had met her husband -while travelling in Russia, had married him, and they had returned to -their native land. She was in every respect a lady, but she was a spoilt -child, and had her whims; and she possessed a great influence over the -minds of the other sisters. On this account it was that she was selected -as the victim to whom should be first imparted the mysteries of the -Revelation, for it was thought that whatever reception she might give to -polygamy, her views would greatly influence the conduct of the rest. - -As I before mentioned, Madame Balif and her husband were models of -affection to one another, and it seemed to me quite a sin that I should -introduce into such a household a doctrine which could only produce -disunion and misery. I had, however, schooled my heart to what I thought -was my duty, and I strove to smother the rebellion rising within me. But, -after all, it seemed to me hardly fair that I should be selected for this -painful task. These husbands had not courage enough, or were ashamed, to -tell their own wives about this wonderful Revelation; and so I, a weak -woman, hating in my heart the doctrine as much as a woman could hate—_I_ -was chosen to introduce this pleasant subject, and to persuade those I -loved to their own ruin. I had had it all fully explained to me, and I -thoroughly understood the _beauties_ of the system in the sight of the -elders, and what they considered the strong points in the Revelation;—but -it is miserable work to try to convince others of a thing that you -yourself detest. - -One day, quite unexpectedly to her, they had told Madame Balif that a new -Revelation had been sent from Zion, and that I would explain it to her; -then Monsieur Balif left the house, and remained absent until the wife -whom he so devotedly loved should have heard this new thing. - -Madame Balif came down stairs singing, in her usual gay spirits, little -expecting what she was going to hear; and when she came to me I felt so -unfitted for my task that I dared not look her straight in the face, -although she was my dearest friend, and I had such an affection for her. -I stood there, pale and trembling, and she thought that I was not well. I -was not indeed well; I was sick at heart. Never before had the face of a -friend been so unwelcome. - -She asked me what it was that I had to tell her; and when I hesitatingly -denied having wanted to speak to her at all, she said she knew there must -be something, as her husband had told her so. - -I hesitated still; but at last found courage, and told her all. It was a -cruel task to impose upon me. Day after day I had observed her and her -husband, I had noticed their deep affection; had seen her watching at the -window for his return; and he would come with a little offering of choice -fruit or flowers; and I thought no woman could be happier than Madame -Balif. And now for me to so cruelly awaken them from their dream of bliss! - -She sat and listened eagerly as I told my story; and when at length -she began to understand what was meant by it, she thought that I must -be playing some unseasonable joke upon her, and showed as much in her -countenance. But when she saw that I really was in earnest, she sprang -up, and cried out, “Oh, my God! what a beastly religion! How dared your -husband and you come to us Swiss with such a religion as that?” My eyes -sank before her as she turned on me with mingled rage and disgust, as if -she would wither me with her contemptuous looks. I felt as humbled as if -I myself had been the author of the Revelation. - -“And does my Serge believe this?” she cried. - -I assured her that he did believe it, and she paced the room, to and -fro, as if she would go crazy; my heart ached for her. She gave way to -a perfect storm of rage, and then sobbed and cried like a child who had -lost its mother. I was silent, for I knew how she must feel, and I felt -that she would be relieved by tears. I had gone through the trial all -alone, without one word from a woman’s heart that could reach my own. -And I tried to comfort her. I remembered how I had felt myself, and I -believed that thus it was now with her. In an instant, when I first -realized that polygamy had anything to do with me, just as I have heard -it said of dying men, all my past life rushed to my remembrance, and -every word or deed of love therein, stood out in brightest reality. -Thus I doubted not it was with my friend. Every tender word which her -husband had ever uttered; every loving deed he had ever done, came to her -recollection with a ten-fold dearness as she realized the horrors which -awaited her in the future. - -How little did we either of us imagine the story she would afterwards -tell me in Utah! - -I tried to soothe her, and she threw her arms passionately round me, and -pressed me to her throbbing heart, and wept again. She thought of her -husband and her little girls. But with all her fears she dreamed not -how miserable was the life before her in poverty and polygamy. She was -herself handsome in form and fair in feature; and, in the full enjoyment -of all that could be desired in her sphere of life, she was as happy as a -youthful wife could be. She pictured to herself a time—not now, her Serge -loved her too truly _now_—when her husband might cast his eyes upon some -blooming damsel, younger than she was _then_, and might begin to take a -nearer interest in polygamy. She pictured him bestowing on the youthful -beauty the love and tenderness which he had always bestowed on _her_; how -his affections would die out towards her; how her heart would be desolate -and alone! - -I took her hand in mine and spoke very gently to her; and when she was -calmer, I talked to her more freely. We found now, as we tried to look -our common enemy in the face, how strong a hold Mormonism had taken of -us; and it is in this that persons unacquainted with the Saints have so -greatly misjudged the women of Utah; they know how small a hold such a -religion—now they look upon Mormonism and polygamy as identical—would -have upon them; and they forget how all-absorbing was our faith in -Mormonism _without_ polygamy. We confided not wisely, but too well. - -Had polygamy been an invention of our husbands, or a system which they -capriciously adopted, we might have been grieved, but we should have -known how to act, for we were in a Christian country, where women had -rights as well as men; it was our own hearts which were traitors to us. -We had been taught to regard Abraham and Jacob, and David and Solomon as -types of holiness, as men who were fit objects for imitation; and now it -was proved to us, from Scripture, that these men were polygamists, and -yet were blessed by God; and we were called upon to follow their example. -Thus we tried to crush out the remembrance of our own womanhood. Had -we but followed the light of reason which God had given for our guide, -we should have trampled in the dust that vile burlesque upon the holy -religion of Jesus called a “Revelation upon Celestial Marriage.” As it -was, the religious teachings which we had received, both before and after -we embraced Mormonism, alike combined to blind us to the truth. - -In this state of mind we knelt, and prayed for the Lord to increase our -faith in that very doctrine which in our hearts we cursed and hated; and -on our knees we wept again; and natural feelings of repugnance mingled -with an earnest struggle to submit to the will of God. Madame Balif had -not so much faith in Mormonism as I had, and she had consequently less -to trouble her in that respect; but she loved her husband, and she knew -that he was determined to go to Zion as soon as he could; and then not -only would all the luxuries of a happy home be sacrificed, but all her -anticipations of the future were overshadowed by a terrible apprehension. -Thus we were equally troubled, though I had to endure most, as the task -of teaching fell upon me. I did at last manage to persuade her not to -offer any active opposition to the Revelation, but I could not satisfy -her that all was right. She even went so far as to promise to try to -overcome her own feelings, for if it was really true she did not wish -to be found fighting against the Lord. She had, however, hardly ceased -speaking when the thought of her little daughters crossed her mind, and -once more she paced the room like an enraged tigress, declaring angrily -that “no vile polygamist should ever possess either of her sweet girls.” -I had felt like this for my own darling Clara. - -I had now a companion in misery, some one who could sympathize with me. -Even had my husband detested the doctrine as I did, he could not have -comforted me as a woman and a mother could. My poor friend could feel as -I felt, and her sympathy was very dear to me; misery loves companionship; -we were sisters in affliction. Not only so, Madame Balif declared that -this painful task should not rest on me alone; she would help me in -speaking to the sisters. Thus we helped each other in the time of our -trouble. - -It must have been about this time that I received another letter from -Mary Burton. The postmark is quite indistinct, but a week or two one way -or the other does not signify much. In her usual quick and impulsive way, -she gave me _her_ views of the “beauties” of polygamy, and perhaps the -reader would like to hear what she said. - - “ ... I am very miserable, Sister Stenhouse, and furiously - indignant. I little thought when I last wrote to you that I - should have such news to tell; but I suppose you know it all - without my saying a word. How we all felt when we first learned - that polygamy was true, no words of mine can describe; we - hardly dared look one another in the face. Let me tell you how - it was. - - “One night, quite late, Elder Shrewsbury came round in a hurry, - and asked to see me. I went down into the parlour to meet him, - and Mrs. Elsworth came down also, and remained until he went - away. Elder Shrewsbury looked very strange that night, just - like a man who had been doing something wrong and was ashamed - of it. - - “He excused himself for coming so late, but he said he had - only just received some important news, and could not rest - until he had seen us. He had been round at the Conference - house, and had there seen a good many of the Elders. They - were all talking earnestly upon the same subject, for that - day they had received, not only letters from the apostle at - Liverpool, but also copies of the _Millennial Star_, with the - Revelation in it, which I suppose you have seen. Of course it - was impossible for them to doubt any longer, but most of them - felt it was a cruel blow. Elder Shrewsbury said they looked at - one another, but did not dare to speak. Nearly all of them - had been anxiously trying to get rid of the false scandal, as - they supposed the accusation of polygamy to be; and in public - in their sermons, and in private to all the weak brethren, they - had over and over again solemnly declared that polygamy was - unheard of among the Saints, that it was a Gentile lie; and - they had proved from the Bible, and from the Book of Mormon, - that a doctrine so sinful could never be believed or practised - by God’s people. - - “Now all this would be thrown in their teeth. Those who - hated Mormonism would revile them for it, and, worse still, - the Saints themselves would despise and doubt them for the - falsehoods which many of them had innocently told. Who could - tell where all this would end? When they were found to have - been deceived in a matter like polygamy, about which it was so - easy to arrive at facts and certainty, who would trust them - concerning other doctrines, which depended upon their veracity - and testimony alone? - - “Then, too, there was worse to be said about the American - elders and apostles. Who could believe that Orson Pratt or - Lorenzo Snow knew nothing of polygamy? And yet they denied it - in the most solemn way. And, oh, Sister Stenhouse, think of the - Apostle Taylor calling God to witness his truth when he proved - from the Book of Covenants that there was no such thing as - polygamy: and all the while he had himself _five_ wives in Salt - Lake City! - - “Elder Shrewsbury told us all this, but he spoke slowly and - disjointedly, like a man whose mind is troubled. He said he - hardly knew what he was doing. Then he gave Mrs. Elsworth - a copy of the _Star_, and he asked me, too, to read the - Revelation carefully before I condemned it. - - “‘If the Revelation, as you call it, allows polygamy,’ I - exclaimed, ‘I hate and despise it, and you, and Mormonism, and - all!’ I was quite in a fury, and I _did_ feel as if I hated him - then. - - “He did not answer me; he seemed too cut up to utter a word; - but I did not pity him. I felt that men who would write such a - revelation as that for their own wicked purposes deserved all - the hatred which the cruellest heart could muster up; they were - loathesome to any pure-minded woman. As he was about to leave - he said mournfully, ‘Sister Mary, I know you have good cause - for anger; but be just. I have been just as much deceived as - ever you have been. It has unsettled all my faith; even our - best and most tried missionaries are shrinking from it. Do not - blame me for what I have not done. I never deceived you about - it.’ - - “I did not answer him; and after a few moments he said, ‘Mary, - I want to speak to you _alone_ about these things. Can I see - you, to-morrow evening, if I call?’ - - “‘I wish you would not call me Mary any more, Elder - Shrewsbury,’ I said; ‘it is too familiar _now_. We have been - far too friendly; but, thank God, I have found out in time, and - know how to act.’ He went away looking most miserable. Then I - went to my own room, and tried to think the matter out. If I - were married, as you are, Sister Stenhouse, and if my husband - believed in the Revelation, I think I should go crazy. As it - was, I felt it terribly. You know, dear, I told you that I - _liked_ Elder Shrewsbury very well, but nothing more. Well, - that was very true _then_, but now I know that it was not all - the truth. I take care that he shall never know what I think of - him, but I know that he is not the same to me as other people. - I do not think I love him; no, I’m sure I don’t _now_; but I - do feel a great deal of interest in him. That night, however, - I felt very mad at him. That he had been deceived, I knew, and - also that he must have felt sorry for having deceived me; and, - if he cares for me, he must have felt uneasy for what I might - say or do, now the doctrine was proclaimed. - - “Well, the more I thought of it, the more angry I became, and - I couldn’t sleep all night. The next morning I wrote a little - note to Elder Shrewsbury, saying that after all that had - happened I had fully resolved not to see him again. Many of my - friends, I said, were married, and could not help themselves, - but I both could and would. The Mormon sisters I should ever - pity and love; but as for the Mormon men, I would never have - anything to do with one of them as long as I lived. I did not - want to be unkind to him personally, but I really could not - trust any one now. - - “Then I showed this note to Mrs. Elsworth, and asked her to - give it to Elder Shrewsbury that night when he came. - - “He came, of course, and he came again and again; but I would - not see him; and I did not even go to the meetings for fear of - coming across him there. He had long talks with Mrs. Elsworth, - and tried to get her to interfere, and at last he sent me a - long letter, entreating me not to refuse him. I was cooler now; - and when Mrs. Elsworth said I ought at least to see him, even - if I dismissed him then, I agreed to do so, and the next night - he came. - - “He was very humble that night. You know what torrents of - eloquence he pours forth about anything that interests him, - and how earnest he is. But then all his eloquence had fled. He - hesitated and blundered, until I really quite pitied him. He - came and sat by me, and would have taken my hand, but I would - not let him. He did not tell me that he loved me, but he spoke - as if I were conscious of the fact; and you know, of course, I - couldn’t help feeling that he cared for me, whether he spoke - about it or not. He assured me over and over again that though - he had often heard the scandal, as I had done, he did not for - a moment believe it; he said that he should _never_ himself - act up to the Revelation; that if he loved, it should be an - undivided and all-absorbing love; that he would rather have - less glory in eternity, with _one_ whom he could idolize, than - obey the Revelation on Polygamy, and obtain a higher position. - - “All this time he hardly once looked at me, but when I did - see his eyes, they seemed very sorrowful and very earnest. I - confess to you that what he said made me feel very differently - for him. For a man of his ability and talents, who has such an - influence, and wins so much respect from every one he meets, to - be sitting there all bashful, like a naughty child, before a - young girl like me, and all because he loved me, made me feel - for him a pity which was very near to love. - - “I told him that I had quite resolved, now that polygamy was - acknowledged, never to see him again, except as I might see - the other elders at meeting. I said I believed I was still a - good Mormon, as Mormons used to be; but I would never receive - polygamy, or be more than an ordinary friend to any one who did - believe it. - - “After that I only saw him at the meeting. And, oh dear! you - should see what meetings we have now! Half the people don’t - attend, and everything is so cold and lifeless. Some of our - most earnest elders never come; and it is said among the - brethren that polygamy will produce the greatest apostasy which - the church has ever seen. Every one seems ashamed of it. - - “And now, dear, I have written you a terrible long letter, but - you must please forgive me, for I have no one to whom I can - open my heart except to you. Kiss the babies, please, for me; - and write soon to your most affectionately loving, - - “MARY BURTON.” - -Poor girl! I said, as I folded up her letter; but it is better for her -to suffer a little now, than for her to have been married first, as I -was, and then, when too late to go back, to have polygamy announced as an -article of faith. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -MORMONISM IN ENGLAND—PREPARING TO EMIGRATE. - - -It was fortunate for the Swiss mission that the new converts in general -could not read any language but their own, and thus were ignorant of the -deceptions which the American Elders had practised upon the people. - -Monsieur Petitpierre, the Protestant minister who thought that the -Revelation ought to be “prayerfully considered,” was the only one who -understood English, and his knowledge was very limited. His wife did not -at all coincide with him about the prayerful consideration of polygamy; -she disposed of the subject without any prayer at all; and it is to be -regretted that in this respect the whole body of the Mormon women did not -follow her example. - -What arguments she used I do not know; but that they were very much to -the point no one can doubt, for they banished for ever all thoughts of -polygamy from her husband’s mind. It was said among the Saints that she -was very energetic in her private discussions with her husband. But -however this might be, it is certain that Monsieur Petitpierre resisted -as long as he could, for the Revelation quite fascinated the childless -old man; and it is possible that he might have held fast to the faith, -but unfortunately, just then certain documents and publications of -the apostles, and a very large amount of evidence respecting them and -their doings, attracted his attention. He was in the main a good and -truthful man, although of small mental calibre, and the deceptions and -contradictions which he discovered quite disgusted him. His wife’s strong -personal arguments gave the finishing blow to his faith, and the spell -was broken. The vision of a modern Hagar and a little Ishmael vanished -from his mind; he apostatised—and Mr. Stenhouse lost the services of a -very useful translator. - -When I heard that he had left the church, how I wished that I could have -followed in his footsteps! But apostasy from Mormonism is only possible -to two classes—the young disciple, who has embraced the faith more from -enthusiasm than from conviction, whose experience is limited; and the old -disciple, who has entirely outgrown it, and has become disgusted with it -all. - -I was neither of these. My faith was too firmly grounded to admit of my -giving it up. Though I hated polygamy, I did not dare to question the -divinity of its origin. I only pitied myself and my sex for the burden -which God had seen fit to place upon us. I never for a moment supposed -that any man would have been so wicked as to fabricate a “Revelation,” or -so blasphemous as to palm it off in the name of the Lord. - -Oh yes, I hated polygamy in my heart. And my efforts in teaching it only -increased my hatred; for when I was gravely told by the Elders that -woman had been cursed in the garden of Eden, and that polygamy was one -of the results of that curse—“her desire shall be unto her husband, and -_he shall rule over her_!”—I must confess that my heart within me was -rebellious. From my earliest childhood I had thought of God as a father -and a friend, to whom I might go and tell all my griefs and cares; but -now He was presented to me as a hard taskmaster, not as a father or a -friend. - -I met with much kindness, but I did not meet with much sympathy from -the brethren. They could not understand that opposition to polygamy was -anything else than selfishness on the part of the sisters; they did not -comprehend the feelings of a woman’s heart—its craving for some object -upon which to devote its whole wealth of love. They were taught that -theirs was a nobler position than that of the sisters, and that women -might consider themselves sufficiently honoured in being allowed to -become the mothers of their children, and to help in building up _their_ -“kingdom.” - -Of my missionary work in Switzerland subsequent to the introduction of -polygamy I will say but little, except that it was too successful. The -same sorrow and indignation which Madame Balif had so forcibly expressed, -were shown by almost every new convert, and I had to bear the blame of -teaching such a doctrine. The sisters became unhappy, and wished that -they had died in ignorance of Mormonism; and I felt humbled to the -dust to think that I should be the innocent cause of so much misery to -others. I looked anxiously for a change; but the only change which seemed -probable was that we might be permitted to emigrate to Utah—and there was -no comfort for me in that prospect. - -We remained in Switzerland until the close of the year 1854, and through -the unremitting efforts of my husband Mormonism was introduced into six -cantons of the Confederation. Monsieur Balif became an indefatigable -missionary, as was also Governor Stoudeman; and to their liberality and -zeal Mr. Stenhouse was greatly indebted. With the aid of Monsieur Balif, -he established in Geneva a monthly periodical in the French language, for -the edification of the Saints, besides publishing a book in reply to the -attacks of the clergy, and many minor effusions. - -At that time there was great excitement among the Saints in Utah. -Brigham Young and his apostles were denouncing the Gentiles in the most -unmeasured language. As I write, a volume of sermons delivered at that -time is before me, and I really can hardly credit that so much ridiculous -nonsense, bad grammar, and blasphemy, could ever have been uttered in a -public place of worship—yet it was so. The Saints were told that in these -last times all the vials of the wrath of God were about to be poured -upon the earth; wars and desolations, anarchy and persecution, fire, -pestilence, and unheard of horrors, were to desolate all the world, until -men should call upon the rocks to hide them, and in the bitterness of -their souls curse the day in which they were born; death was to be sought -for, but not found. Believing, as they did, that all this was true, it -is no wonder that the Saints in Europe were alarmed, and became anxious -to emigrate to Utah, where they were told they would be safe. A seven -years’ famine was said to be at the door, when a sack of wheat should be -sold for a sack of gold, and Gentile kings and princes were to come and -crouch to the Saints for a morsel of bread. The very women in Zion were -counselled to sell the ribbons from their bonnets, to buy flour with the -proceeds, and to hide it away against the day of wrath. - -The brethren and sisters in Switzerland who could dispose of their -property hastened to “flee to Zion.” Some did so at a ruinous sacrifice. -One gentleman, a Monsieur Robella, I knew, who was part proprietor of a -newspaper and printing establishment. In a very short time it would have -been entirely in his own hands; but he sold out at a great loss, dreading -that the storm might overtake him before he reached the “chambers of the -Lord in the mountains,” as the Elders called Salt Lake City. - -The journey from Europe to Utah at that time occupied six or eight -months; it was a very tedious pilgrimage. My Swiss friends had first to -travel to Liverpool; thence by sailing vessel to New Orleans; by steamer -up the Mississippi as far as St. Louis; up the Missouri to the frontiers; -and then across the plains by ox-teams. Much of this distance had to be -travelled during the worst part of the year. They left their homes while -the Jura mountains were still draped in snow; and those who escaped the -ravages of cholera and the perils of the ways, reached their destination -just as the frosts of winter were beginning to whiten the hoary heads of -the hills which stand about Zion. - -All the Swiss pilgrims travelled together until they arrived at St. -Louis; there they separated, one party going up the river, and the other -making the journey overland. The cholera attacked the latter party, -and cut off the greater number of them, and their bones now whiten the -prairie. - -The news of their death soon arrived in Switzerland, and the people at -Lausanne were exasperated against the Mormon missionaries; and when my -husband visited that place he found it prudent not to remain long. At -the same time those of the Saints whose relations had perished in the -emigration were pained to hear that it was because they “had not obeyed -counsel,” and gone up the river with the other party, that they fell by -the way. And, as if in mockery of this statement, the next news that we -received was that a Missouri steamer, on board of which were many Mormon -missionaries—all most obedient to counsel—had been blown to atoms. Many -of the Saints began to consider these things, and their love waxed cold. - -Through all this our position was anything but pleasant, and my husband -applied for permission to be released from the presidency of the Swiss -and Italian missions, in order that he might “gather to Zion.” His -request was granted; and in the autumn of 1854 we bade a final adieu to -Switzerland. - -We might now be said to have _begun_ our journey to Zion, although we -tarried long by the way, and several years elapsed before we reached our -destination. - -When we arrived in London we obtained apartments in the house of the -President of the London Conference, and there I had opportunities of -observing the effects of the system upon the English Saints. Elder -Marsden, the president, was a thorough Mormon, and a man who was very -highly thought of. He had been acquainted with all the apostles and high -priests who had resided in Liverpool—the great _rendezvous_ of the -Saints in England; had been President of the Conference there, and now -occupied the highest position of the European mission. He was a pleasant, -intelligent man, who in his day had done much to build up the church; -but, like his two predecessors, John Banks and Thomas Margetts, he also -apostatized from the Mormonism of later years. At the time, however, of -which I speak, he was considered to be of good standing among the Saints. - -Up to this time I had never seriously doubted my religion, and I probably -never should have done so had it not been for the introduction of -polygamy. But what I saw in London at that time sadly shook my faith, -and the stories which I heard from Utah quite frightened me. Nothing, of -course, was openly said, and at first I disbelieved every evil report, -until at last it was impossible for me altogether to reject what was -told me. The testimony of an apostate or of a Gentile would have been -dismissed with contempt; but when we saw letters from mothers to their -children, and husbands to their wives—all people of unquestioned faith, -setting forth the troubled state of men’s minds in Utah, expressing fears -for their own safety, and hinting at “cutting off” the transgressor, -and the doings of “Avenging Angels,” we could not cast them aside with -contempt. My views of the glories of Zion were changing; henceforth I was -never firm in the faith; I felt that there was _something_ wrong. - -Perhaps the reader may think that now I might have left the church, -and thus have avoided all those troubles which awaited me in Utah. But -let him remember that, although my faith was shaken, it was not wholly -destroyed. All that I clung to on earth—my husband, whom I truly loved, -and my darling children—were part and parcel of Mormonism. I could not -tear myself from them, and isolate my soul from all that made life worth -having. - -My unsettled state of mind, however, did not long remain a secret. It -was spoken of among the Saints, and I became an object of interest. The -pastor over the London and adjoining Conferences was the son of one of -the chief apostles in Utah—a young man, whose good nature was far better -than his religion. He visited us very frequently, and used to bring -with him the distinguished American Elders who might be visiting the -metropolis. I have no doubt that they were sincere in their desire to do -me good; but it was not kind attentions that I then needed, it was the -removal of the cause of my sorrows. - -They tried to persuade me that it was all “the work of the Lord;” but -I could not see it in that light, and very often in reply to their -consolations I said very hard things of polygamy and the leaders of the -church, whose conduct I considered sinful. And in this I did not stand -alone, for I soon found that the President of the Conference, Elder -Marsden, had been in the same position for years, and his wife was -“quite through” with Mormonism. In fact, so great had been the distrust -occasioned by polygamy, that in the report ending June 30th, 1853, it -was stated that from the whole British church, which then numbered very -nearly 31,000 souls—1776 had been excommunicated for apostasy! - -Of those who remained faithful I cannot give a much more cheering -account. The Elders who visited President Marsden made as damaging -reports of the condition of the Saints as their worst enemies could -desire. All that my young friend, Mary Burton, had told me did not equal -the truth of what I saw for myself. No one had any confidence _now_ in -what the Elders said; how could they be trusted after so many years of -deception? - -The Elders who visited me and reasoned with me about my want of faith, -tried to persuade me to be baptized again. Among the Mormons it is -the privilege of the faithful to be baptized over and over again, as -often as may be needed, for the remission of their sins, which are thus -washed away, and the penitent is enabled to start afresh. At that time -of fearful excitement in Utah, called by the Mormons “The Reformation,” -when people were being exhorted under terrible penalties to confess their -sins, many were so frightened that they acknowledged themselves guilty -of crimes of which they had never dreamed, while at the same time many -horrible and detestable sins were brought to light. Brigham and the -leaders found that they were confessing too much—the sinners were far -more numerous than the godly. Brigham, with his usual craft, soon found a -way of escape; the people were told to be baptized again, so that their -sins being washed away, they could truly say they were not guilty of the -crimes of which they might be accused. - -I was not convinced, and did not see that I had anything to repent of, -but I was quite willing to be re-baptized if it was thought proper. -At the same time I stipulated that the President of the Conference, -Elder Marsden, should be baptized with me. I felt that if I required -re-baptizing, how much more necessary was it for Elder Marsden to have -_his_ sins washed away also. I partly believed in the fearful stories -that I had heard from Zion, but it was _he_ who had shown them to me. The -Pastor of the Conference gave no sign that he suspected my meaning in -wishing Elder Marsden to be baptized at the same time as I was, though -I believe he must have formed a pretty shrewd guess. And so we two -went down into the water, but I am afraid that little of our sins was -washed away. Not long after, President Marsden apostatized, and my heart -remained as hard as ever. At least I was frequently told so. - -Poor Elder Marsden! He was branded with the most opprobrious titles which -Mormon ingenuity or malice could fling against him: and yet I know of -_many_ men—not one nor two, associated most intimately with Brigham Young -to-day, whose faith is not a whit stronger than that apostate’s, who -serve the Prophet because it is their interest to do so, but who in their -hearts no more believe in his high pretensions than did James Marsden, -the President of the London Conference. - -Meanwhile, the season for emigration had again arrived, and we were -directed to hold ourselves in readiness to start. Although by no means -unexpected, this “counsel” to emigrate came very painfully to me, -for every step we took towards Utah seemed to bring me nearer to the -realization of my worst apprehensions. I had lost my affection for -Mormonism, and my enthusiasm had now quite melted away. But to refuse to -go was altogether out of the question. - -Two little ones had been added to our family in Geneva, and a fourth was -born in London, the Christmas Day after our return from the continent. -The foggy atmosphere of the metropolis did not agree with them at all, -accustomed, as they had been, to the pure and bracing air of Switzerland, -and I soon had serious illness in my family. My second little girl, -Minnie, was so sick that we almost despaired of her life, and the others -required constant attention; while the little baby boy, only a few weeks -old, was seldom out of my arms. Just then it was, when so very awkwardly -situated, that the notification came for us to set our faces Zionward. - -They chided us for our want of faith, because we did not take our poor -little sick child from her bed at the risk of life; but I thank God now -that nature was stronger than our fanaticism, and that our little girl -was spared to grow up a blessing of which we shall ever be proud. - -One day, President Marsden came to me confidentially, and told me that -the brethren were determined that I should leave England, and had counted -upon my yielding in a moment of despair. My husband was to be counselled -to go without me to Utah, if I persisted in my refusal. After he had left -London, Elder Marsden was to give me notice to leave his house; and left -destitute, and entirely among strangers, it was thought that I should be -only too glad to follow. - -I cannot tell how indignant I was; I could not find words sufficiently -contemptuous to express what I felt; I reproached Elder Marsden with -cowardice for agreeing to such an inhuman proposition, and I declared -that I would not risk the life of my child if an eternity of suffering -awaited me. - -My husband was absent when this took place; but when he returned -he approved of what I had done, and Elder Marsden was consequently -“counselled” to send us away. The doctor warned us against the danger -of exposing my little daughter to the cold in removing her; but we had -no choice, for we were obliged to leave. Those were very painful times. -Constant watching and anxiety had undermined my own health, and I fell -ill. Even then, had we been left alone we might have escaped much of -our trouble; but the incessant meddling of “counsel” was a perpetual -irritation, and we were completely worn out with annoyance. - -A pleasant apartment at the west end of the town was taken for me, by -the advice of the medical man, and I was removed thither with my baby. I -was not equal even to the task of taking care of that little thing, and -had to procure the assistance of a nurse; the other children were cared -for by friends. All that I needed was rest and tranquillity of mind, and -I soon began to recover strength, though far from well. But this state -of quietude was soon to be disturbed. Again we were notified that the -last emigrant ship of the season was about to leave, and we must sail -in her; and again we were obliged to refuse. My husband telegraphed to -the Apostle at Liverpool that I was not well enough to travel, and he -was told to “bring me along, and I should get better.” The Apostle (!) -cared nothing for individual suffering providing the ambitious plans -of the priesthood in Salt Lake City were carried out. But my husband, -anxious though he was to set out for Utah, and obedient as he ever was to -“counsel,” was not such a slave as they thought him, and he positively -refused to go. For this he was very much blamed, and it was said that his -own faith must be wavering. - -Since my arrival in London I had several times seen my young friend, Mary -Burton. She had, as she told me in her letters, very greatly changed, for -she had now become quite a young lady. Still she retained most of her -winning ways, though her childish prettiness had given place to the more -mature beauty of womanhood; and when I saw her I was not surprised that -she should be an object of attention, or that Elder Shrewsbury should -have felt so deeply her rejection of him. - -I also had a visit from another person, whom I little expected to see. -This was no other than Elder Shrewsbury himself, who, I had been told, -had left London some months before. This, he said was quite true; he had -left London, and gone to work as a missionary hundreds of miles away; -trying to forget his disappointment, but to no purpose. His was one -of those natures which, though kind and considerate to every one, are -not ready to form hasty attachments, but which, when once they do meet -with an object upon which to lavish their affections, became devoted in -friendship and unchanging in love. Their affections flow more deeply than -those of most people. - -Such was Elder Shrewsbury, and such I thought he would always be; but -what disposition, however good, can be relied upon when influenced by -religious fanaticism? He stood before me, _then_, manly and upright in -his bearing, truthful and honest—a man who would have scorned evasion or -deceit; and his every thought of Mary was replete with tenderness and -love. And yet I lived to see that man again, in Utah—alas, how changed a -man! - -Before we first left England I was acquainted with Elder Shrewsbury, but -not very intimately. We had had one or two interesting conversations -together, but I remembered him chiefly in connexion with Mary Burton. It -was about her that he now came to see me;—he wanted me to talk to her, -and intercede with her in his behalf. But I was no match-maker, and all -my thoughts respecting love and marriage had recently been anything but -pleasant. I told him plainly that I thought Mary had done quite right in -refusing to see him, and, in fact, declining to receive the attentions of -_any_ Mormon man. I did not doubt his love for her at present, I said; -but no one could any longer rely upon a Mormon Elder’s word. Years to -come, when they had a little family growing up around them, and when it -would be too late for Mary to repent of trusting him, he might suddenly -be convinced of the necessity of obeying the Revelation, and then what -could she do? No! Even supposing that she loved him, which, I said, was -very questionable, it was better that she should suffer a disappointment -now, than have her heart wrung with cruelty and neglect in after-years. - -“What!” he cried, his eyes dashing with indignation; “do you take me for -a dog that I should treat _her_ so?” - -“No, no,” I said, and tried to pacify him; “I do not think anything -bad of you, but I look upon you as a man who is in love, and therefore -blind. You think of nothing now but Mary, and are willing to sacrifice -everything, and to promise anything, providing you can win her. But when -she has become your wife, if she ever does, and you have time to cool -down, you’ll begin to see things in another light. You’ll find that she -is only an ordinary woman, made of flesh and blood, like all the other -daughters of Eve, and with, I daresay, quite as many whims, and fancies, -and perverse ways as any of them; and then, when she ceases to be ‘an -angel’ in your eyes, and becomes merely a woman, you’ll begin to assert -your right to think and judge for yourself, and very probably all your -former devotion to your religion will return.” - -“Sister Stenhouse,” he replied, “you do not seem to have a very high -opinion of my constancy; but I can assure you that I have given this -matter my most earnest, prayerful thought. My love for Mary I need not -mention; my devotion to my religion you only partly know. While we were -told that Polygamy was not true, no one could be more steadfast in the -faith than I was; and when the Revelation came, I looked upon it as a -blight and a curse to the Church of God. And how well-founded my fears -were, you can see from this terrible apostasy which has come upon us. I -almost myself left the Church. Then I went to the Apostle, and I told him -how I was situated. I told him all about Mary, and my devotion to her; -that I wished to win her for my wife, but that I knew she would not marry -me if she thought there was the shadow of a chance that I should live up -to the Revelation. I told him that I myself should be perfectly wretched -in Polygamy, and that it was impossible that I should love more than -_one_. The Apostle said that I was quite right in all this. We had no -proof, he said, in the Bible, that Isaac had more than one wife, and he -was accepted of God. He counselled me to do all I could to win Mary, and -told me that I might truthfully promise her that I would never enter into -Polygamy. But Mary would not so much as listen to me; in fact, since then -she never would see me alone.” - -“I am not sure,” I answered, “whether I am doing right; but I don’t mind -saying to you that I think, from what I have seen of Mary, that she does -not dislike you; but she is a sensible girl, and does not choose to risk -the happiness of her whole life.” - -He was vexed with me for saying this. How could I suppose that _he_ would -wreck her happiness? Was he not willing to die if it would give her a -moment’s pleasure? And much more lover’s nonsense he talked. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -EMIGRATING TO ZION:—WE ARRIVE IN NEW YORK. - - -The afternoon following, Mary herself came to see me, her face all -flushed with excitement, and eager to tell me something. - -“Whom do you think I’ve been talking to, Sister Stenhouse?” she -exclaimed. “You’d never guess.” - -“I don’t think there’s much need for guessing,” I said. “Your face -betrays the secret, Mary.” - -“Well,” she said, “perhaps it does, but you wouldn’t wonder at it, if -you only knew how very anxious I have been. All this time I have kept my -word, and I did not see him or speak to him once, except at meetings, -and not much then, and I have been _very_ unhappy. This afternoon I came -round about an hour ago to see you, and there on the step was Elder -Shrewsbury. He said he was here yesterday, and was just going to call -on you again, and then he asked me to go a little way with him, as he -had something very important to say to me. At first I refused to go, but -he wouldn’t listen to it for a moment. So I went with him, and we have -been talking ever since; or rather he has been talking, and I have been -listening to him. I can’t tell you, Sister Stenhouse, all he said—you can -guess better than I can tell you. But I’m afraid I shall not be able to -keep my resolution much longer, for when we came back to the door again -he said he wouldn’t come in to see you now, and when he begged me to let -him call at Mrs. Elsworth’s to-morrow night, I did not feel it in my -heart to refuse him;—was it very wrong of me to do so?” - -Said I, “I’m afraid, Mary, my opinion would not matter much either way; -Elder Shrewsbury’s eloquence is the music which you like best to listen -to.” - -She blushed, and came and sat down beside me, and we talked together -until the sun went down and my little room was quite dark. I told her of -my troubles in Switzerland, and of the miserable effects of introducing -Polygamy there; and she in return told me all her love affairs with -Elder Shrewsbury and of her resolution not to listen to him unless he -solemnly promised never to have anything to do with the hated Revelation. -Her faith in Mormonism itself had, as I expected, been very severely -shaken; and I think that had it not been for my efforts to reassure her, -she would have left the Church at that time. Would to God she had. - -After tea, she said, “Have you a copy of the Revelation here, Sister -Stenhouse? I want to show you some strong points in it which I think will -astonish you. I learned all about it from Elder Shrewsbury that night -when he came to see me, and it was that that disgusted me with the whole -affair.” We searched through my trunk but could not find the document, -and I told her that I had not patience to read it quite through when it -was given to me, and that since then I was not sure that I had even seen -it. “Never mind,” she said; “I’ll bring it with me when I come again.” - -How often have I thought since how much depended upon that trifling -circumstance. Had we then together read over the Revelation and noticed -the “strong points” of which she spoke, I believe my eyes would have -been opened, and I never should have submitted to the misery which I -afterwards endured in Utah. - -Towards the end of the year 1855 it was determined that a company of -Mormon emigrants, numbering several hundreds, should leave Liverpool _en -route_ for Salt Lake City; and for that purpose a vessel was chartered -early in November. This was not the ordinary season for emigration, but -there were then in England numbers of the Saints, anxious to go to Zion, -but too poor to pay their passage all the way. It was thought that when -they arrived in New York they would have time to earn sufficient to carry -them on, and it was then supposed they could join those who came over by -the ordinary spring emigration. My husband and myself were counselled to -join these emigrants in Liverpool and proceed at once to New York. - -The Mormons in London were very kind to us before we left, and did all -they could to help us in preparing for our journey. A kinder people -than the Saints in Europe could nowhere be found. My husband had been -directed to take charge of the emigrants in the transit from London to -Liverpool, and consequently I received no assistance from him. It seemed -to me a very cruel arrangement for the Elders to take away from me and my -helpless little ones the very person to whom we ought naturally to have -turned for protection; but what were the feelings of a weak woman when -they came in conflict with the “counsel” of inspired Apostles? - -We arrived at Liverpool the same evening, and there my husband was -relieved of the charge of the company, and some of the brethren were -appointed to see that the baggage was safely transferred from the railway -to the ship. Early the next morning we went on board, and it was not long -before we began to experience the pleasures (?) of an emigrant life. - -Before we set out for Liverpool, I had been told that on board ship I -should be able to obtain all the “help” that I might desire; and, anxious -to provide for the comfort of the children, I engaged the services of -two young girls to look after them and assist me generally. This was -an imprudent step, as I afterwards found to my cost; but at the time I -thought that I had made a very sensible arrangement. Help being secured, -my next thought was to get our berths fixed, so that all might be ready -before the rolling of the ship began. My first inquiries were for our -bedding; but it was nowhere to be found. Now this was very annoying, for -we were all tired, and the children, poor things, were fidgetty; and -anticipating a long and unpleasant voyage, I wanted to have everything in -readiness. Besides which I had made special preparations in the shape of -many additional comforts which I knew on board ship would be absolutely -necessary, and had even sold my watch and jewellery for that purpose. - -I inquired of the proper authorities, but could obtain no information, -and nothing remained but for me to wait until the Apostle came on board -to bid a final adieu to the emigrants. I felt this annoyance all the -more, as I considered that we had no right to expect such mismanagement. -We would naturally have preferred to make our own arrangements and to go -alone, had we been permitted to do so; but we had, over and over again, -been instructed not to go by any other vessel than that chartered by the -Apostle Richards, that so we might escape the perils which were sure to -overtake the Gentiles. Imagine our disgust when we found that as there -were not enough of the Saints to occupy the whole ship, the lower deck -was filled with Irish emigrants of a very low order, and that their -luggage and ours had been thrown together indiscriminately into the hold. -Most of the Mormon emigrants recovered their property when they arrived -at New York; but as for our own, personally, we never saw it again, and -all the voyage through we were left utterly destitute. - -Nothing remained but for me to put the best face I could upon matters. I -took my wearing apparel and other articles out of the trunks and put them -into pillow-slips, and extemporized as well as I could a rough substitute -for beds. These served for the children, and I covered them with my -cloaks and shawls; and for our own berths and bed-covering I had only a -few pieces of carpet which I put aside for the cabin floor, together with -a worn-out blanket which an old lady on board was good enough to lend me. -This was our going to Zion. - -We had not been long at sea when the young sisters whom I had engaged to -help me fell sick, and some of the brethren were very anxious to nurse -them. This appeared to be quite the established order of things, for I -then found that it was very seldom that a Mormon emigrant ship crossed -the ocean without one or more marriages on board. It was, no doubt, very -interesting to them, but to me it was extremely inconvenient, especially -considering that my husband had now taken to his berth, which he did not -leave during the remainder of the voyage, and myself and the children -were not much better off. - -Sick as I was, I had to prepare our food and manage everything, for -in those times emigrants either took out their own provisions or were -allowanced in raw material, and in either case had to do their own -cooking. My chief difficulty was in getting what I had prepared to the -fire-galley, for I could not leave the children, and I was afraid to -venture myself upon deck. So I got any of the brethren who chanced to -be passing to take it up, and of course they were willing to oblige me; -but the galley was so crowded—every one having his or her own interest -to attend to—that I very rarely, if ever, had my provisions decently -cooked, and on more than one occasion I never saw them again. This was an -inconvenience which emigrants do not suffer at the present day. - -Unsuccessful with the young sisters, I thought I would try if I could -not get one of the brethren to help me, and fortune at first appeared -to favour me. There was on board a young man—Harry they called him—and -he was so situated that I found it easy to open a negotiation with him. -He had been a saddler’s apprentice in a country town in England, and -having listened to some itinerant preacher, had been converted, joined -the Church, and began to think for himself. So hearing that terrible -judgments were quickly coming upon the Old World, he resolved to flee to -the New, and in his hurry to get there he forgot to inform his master -that he was about to leave. This accounted for his being so badly -provided for. - -Now, Harry had those two great blessings—a splendid appetite and -unimpeachable powers of digestion. I will not say that he enjoyed these -two blessings, for that he did not, on account of lacking a third -blessing, namely, the wherewithal to make the first two blessings a -pleasure, and not an inconvenience. The ship’s allowance was altogether -insufficient for him, and he therefore gladly engaged to do what few -things I required upon condition that I should add a little to his own -private commissariat. - -Harry was a smart lad and at first very useful, and he soon convinced me -that he had told the truth when he said that he had not had enough to eat -ever since he came on board—it seemed to me very questionable whether he -ever had before. He had, however, nothing to complain of in that respect -while in our employment; for although the children were able to eat -whenever we had anything fit for them, my husband and myself could seldom -touch our rations, and as everything that was not used fell to Harry’s -share, he fared pretty well. - -Harry was not the lad to neglect his own interests, and as our interests -appeared just then to be his also, matters worked very harmoniously. Our -bread was never now brought back to us half raw or burnt to a cinder. It -must be properly cooked for our eating or it would not do for Harry’s; -and as for it being lost or delayed on its way to or from the galley, -that was, of course, quite out of the question. But the strangest thing -of all connected with Harry was that immediately after his coming we -were incessantly annoyed by _the rats_. I had brought for the children’s -use a small supply of preserves and other little delicacies; but these -mysteriously disappeared with alarming rapidity; and whenever I saved any -trifle for the children to eat between meals, that also was gone when -it was wanted, and in every instance Harry suggested that it was “the -rats,” though I never could find any traces of those interesting animals. -I was sorry to part with Harry, for he used to tell funny stories to the -children, and amused them a great deal; but “the rats” and Harry were -so closely associated in my mind, that I thought if Harry left the rats -might perhaps also cease their visits. So Harry went, and I was once -more left alone to do the best I could. - -The weather was very cold, and we felt its severity very much. The -rigging of the ship was hung with icicles, and, without fire or warmth of -any sort, it is no wonder that we all were soon hardly able to move from -cold and sickness. - -In the midst of my trouble I was told of an ancient Scotch sister—a -maiden lady, sharp and shrewd—who, like the miser in Scott’s “Fortunes of -Nigel,” was willing to help us “for a consideration.” It was agreed that -she should give me her services for the remainder of the voyage; and the -“consideration” was to be two pounds English. Small as was our stock of -money, and much as I knew we should need it upon our arrival, I felt that -I could do no better than engage her. There was no saying upon whom _she_ -might chance to set her maiden fancy, but there was not the remotest -chance of any of the brethren falling in love _with her_; so I considered -her a safe investment, and, besides, I must have _somebody_—there was no -alternative. - -It was now Christmas time—a season sacred to joyous memories and -festivities; but to us, exiles and wanderers, seeking a land of which we -knew nothing, and which to us was a new and untried world, it was far -from being a happy time. In the midst of the wild, dreary ocean there was -nothing to recall the pleasant reminiscences of the past, or to inspire -us with hope and courage as we thought of the future. - -The captain told us that we might prepare to eat our Christmas dinner in -New York; but he was mistaken in his calculations. We did not eat our -Christmas dinner in New York, as he had promised. A storm came on, which -compelled us to stand out to sea again, and then a dead calm followed, -and it was not until New Year’s eve that we set foot upon the shore of -the New World. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -LIFE IN NEW YORK:—CONDUCTING A MORMON PAPER. - - -Very cold, and dark, and dreary, were the first days which we spent in -the New World. That faith which once had led me to hope, and believe, and -“endure all things,” was now powerless to nerve me to any new course of -action for my religion’s sake; for the dark shadow of Polygamy had come -across my way; hope had fled, and my love, with the love of many other -faithful Saints, had waxed cold. - -To my husband and children I was, of course, devotedly attached, and was -willing to combat any difficulty or endure any trial with them, or for -their sake; and it was not long before my constancy was put to the test. - -The Mormon emigrants have always a Captain and two “Counsellors” to every -company. The Captain on board the “Emerald Isle,”—the vessel in which -we came—was a returning Utah Elder;—one of his Counsellors was also a -returning Elder, and my husband was the other. As soon as the Mormon -Captain had come on shore, and had reported to the Apostle in charge of -the New York Saints, he left to visit his friends. The Utah Counsellor -had a young lady in the company to whom he had become very much attached, -and who afterwards became one of his wives. I was not, therefore, -surprised that, as soon as he could get his baggage, he also should -disappear; but my husband—the other Counsellor—being encumbered with a -wife and family, was obliged to remain, and the whole charge of seeing to -the company devolved upon him. - -We had, therefore, to remain in Castle Gardens until the whole company of -emigrants was provided for; and during all the next week I, with my four -children, remained in that public place, sick and weary, and as destitute -of bedding and covering as we had been on board ship. The weather was -intensely cold, and, unaccustomed as we were to the severity of an -American winter, we suffered not a little. The other unfortunate victims -to faith were in the same condition, with the exception that they had -something to sleep on at nights, while I had nothing but the bare boards -for my bed since we left Liverpool;—all that I could gather together had -been reserved for my babes. How we lived through that journey I know -not, but I am certain that, could I have foreseen what we should have to -endure, I would never have left England, whatever my refusal might have -cost me. - -I could not refrain from contrasting my life before and since I knew -Mormonism. Before, I scarcely knew what suffering was, so little had -I been called upon to endure. I never knew what it was to be without -money, or to want for anything; but now I was in a strange land, in the -depth of winter, without a home, without a pillow to rest my weary head -upon, and with a future before me so dark that not a single ray of light -gave to it the promise of hope. Could any slavery be more complete than -mine? My fanaticism and zeal were all gone—I had nothing to sustain -me. Certainly, I was still held by the fear that Mormonism, after all, -_might_ be of God, and that all this suffering _might_ be necessary for -my salvation—but if at that time I had only had a friend whose mind was -clear from all the nonsense of Mormonism, and who had felt sufficient -interest in me to advise me for my good, I think even then I might have -freed myself from the mental slavery in which I was bound. But I had no -intercourse with any but Mormons; and, indeed, a wish to form Gentile -friendships I should then have considered a sin. - -A week after our arrival, my husband found time to seek for apartments -for his family, and I was thankful to leave our miserable quarters at -Castle Gardens. - -The Mormon authorities had, meanwhile, given instructions to the other -emigrants how to act, and they did little more than this. Those who had -not found work or places to go to were ordered to leave the gardens, -and received permission to occupy an old dilapidated school-room in -Williamsburgh, which had been used for preaching. I went there almost -daily to see them, and therefore state what I saw as an eye-witness, and -neither exaggerate nor misrepresent. There they huddled together, about -one hundred and fifty—men, women and children. Most of the men had been -respectable mechanics in their own country; many of them I had known -personally and had visited in their cosy English homes; and their wives -and families had been decently brought up. What they must have suffered -under this change of circumstances I leave the reader to guess. - -In that miserable place they lived day and night—the poor, dispirited -mothers (many of them very sick) having to cook, and wash, and perform -all the necessary domestic duties, round two small sheet-iron stoves. -It was not long before the place became like a pest-house from so many -being confined in so small a place, and breathing the same fetid and -pestilential atmosphere; and many of the young children died of an -epidemic which was raging among them. - -They had saved some of the ship’s provisions, and that was all they -had to eat, and it did not last long. To me it was most distressing to -witness so much misery without being able to render any assistance, -particularly to see the poor little children shivering and crying with -hunger and cold, while many of their mothers were in such a miserable -state of apathy that they paid little or no attention to them. I often -tried to awaken in them feelings of human sympathy, but I was met with -a murmur of discontent. The people, men and women alike—seemed to be -utterly demoralized. Nor can this be a matter of wonder; for in England -the men had been told that—while at home they could only earn four -or five shillings a day, and would never be able to put by enough to -carry them all the way to Utah—in New York they would be able to earn -two-and-a-half to three, and even four dollars a day—equal to from ten -to sixteen shillings English—and that employers would even come on board -ship anxious to engage them. Thus they had by false statements been -allured from their homes and plunged into the most abject poverty. Day by -day they went out seeking work, but finding none; willing to do anything -to provide bread for their families, but returning nightly, unsuccessful, -to their starving wives and children. - -My own resources were gone. I could do nothing. When we left Castle -Gardens I think we only had about five dollars left, while the heavy snow -which covered the ground and the intense cold promised many weeks of -unusual severity. Needing so greatly pity myself, how I sympathized with -those poor sufferers, how I pitied them! - -In the midst of all this, the Apostle John Taylor learned that some of -these poor souls had been seen begging. So he came from his comfortable -boarding-house in Brooklyn, well wrapped up in a handsome overcoat, and -scolded these poor, starving creatures, and harangued them concerning the -meanness of begging. With great swelling words he spoke of the dignity -of the Saints of the Most High, and told them that he despised a Mormon -who could fall to the level of a common street beggar. - -Could he have heard the unspoken curses of the poor, wounded hearts of -those who listened to him, as they thought of his brother “Apostle” in -England, and of how he had deceived them and sent them into a strange -country, in the depth of winter, to beg, to starve, or to steal, he would -have learned that though the victim of a delusive faith may mentally -submit to man-made creeds and priesthoods, in his heart he will judge, -not so much the words he hears as the man who utters them. - -The wisdom of the Apostle found out a remedy. He “counselled” the men and -boys to buy shovels, and go forth into the streets and clean away the -snow from the fronts of the doors and from the side-walks, and told them -that they would thus get plenty of money to keep them until winter was -over. One elderly brother, who had a little money left, bought a stock -of shovels; but the emigrants found that there were plenty of others who -were as eager as they for work, and who were much better acquainted with -the way of obtaining it. The shovel experiment was a failure, and the -poor old brother lost his money in the investment. - -For whatever the Apostle Taylor may have contributed to these unfortunate -persons—whether in “counsel,” money, or provisions—he will doubtless -have his reward; and, for aught I know, he may have been unable to -give anything more than counsel; but, at the same time, my opinion -of the value of counsel remains unchanged. There has been no lack of -“counsel” or counsellors in the Mormon Church. “Counsel” has been given -in abundance to all, and by no means always for the benefit of those -who received it. It was not, however, because he failed to assist them -practically that the people hated the Apostle Taylor, and have hated -him ever since; but it was for his pride and arrogance, and the way in -which he dared to talk to free-born Englishmen and Englishwomen about the -dignity of the Priesthood, and the contempt in which he held them in the -hour of their humiliation and distress—for that they hated him. - -I do not, of course, wish to justify the people in begging; such conduct -would have been despicable if they could have found employment of any -sort. But when I saw the starving condition of those men and their -helpless families, in that wretched school-house, in my heart I almost -honoured them for having the courage to beg; and I thanked God that the -“mean Yankee Gentiles”—as the Elders taught the Saints to call American -citizens who did not believe in Mormonism—were able and willing to assist -them. - -One of those emigrants very recently related to me some of the painful -circumstances through which he passed at that time. He told me that he -walked the streets of Williamsburgh for three days and three nights -without a mouthful of anything to eat, or a place to lay his head;—he -could obtain no work, and at length, in sheer desperation, he was -_forced_ to beg. The Church authorities knew well the misery of the -people, but took no adequate steps to alleviate it. - -During the first weeks after our arrival in New York city, we had nothing -to depend upon but the provisions which we had saved from the ship’s -rations. I had known what it was to be in a foreign country without money -and without food; and on board ship I took care of our rations when they -were not consumed by Harry or “the rats;” for I thought that if I did -not need them—which, indeed, I sincerely hoped might be the case—I could -certainly find some one who would be thankful for them. These rations -consisted chiefly of sugar that was almost black; very bad black tea, -which when made looked like dye; the poorest kind of sea-biscuit; and -other things accordingly. The provisions for the Mormon emigrants were -purchased in bulk by the Church authorities, who made their own profits -out of them, and the Apostle at Liverpool had the benefit of all that -could be saved out of them during the voyage. It was commonly said among -the people that the sight of them alone was quite sufficient for any one -who was not half-starved; and yet they had paid the price of the best. - -We had been in New York several weeks when one day my husband called at -the office of a paper called _The Mormon_, and there met with the Apostle -Taylor, who conducted that paper. The Apostle expressed great regret that -Mr. Stenhouse should be without occupation at that season of the year, -and with a family of children upon his hands. This sympathy, coming from -a brother Missionary was, I thought, very tardy, for my husband had then -devoted over ten years of his life to the cause, and his record in the -Church had been untarnished. The Apostle was living in an elegant house, -surrounded by every comfort and luxury, while he knew that we had not -so much as a chair, or even a bed to lie upon. What had he done for -the Church more than my husband had done? Indeed, I firmly believe that -he had not endured half so much, but—he was an Apostle! His unhelping -sympathy appeared to me a little more than questionable. - -He told my husband that he might come into the office of _The Mormon_, -and write the addresses on the wrappers, and that he would give him a few -dollars a week “to help things along,” until something better presented -itself. My husband thought this a disinterested action on the part of -the Apostle John Taylor, but my experience in Mormonism led me to be -distrustful and suspicious of everything that an Elder or Apostle said or -did. This offer, however, came when we really had nothing to look to, and -dared not refuse any assistance that was offered, however small it might -be. But I must admit that my ideas of Apostolic liberality were very -much shocked when at the end of the week Mr. Stenhouse informed me that -he had been allowed four dollars for his services, and that out of that -magnificent sum the Apostle John Taylor had deducted twenty-five cents -which sheer necessity had compelled him to borrow for the week’s ferriage. - -The Apostle-editor had two assistants from Utah with him in _The Mormon_ -office—the one a “Seventy,” and the other a “High-Priest”—terms and -titles which I shall presently explain. A few weeks after my husband -entered the office, the “Seventy” who had charge of getting out the paper -was allowed to return to Zion. The High-Priest remained in the Eastern -States visiting alternately the various branches of the Church, and -doing some very zealous courting with a young English girl who lived in -Williamsburgh, while his two unsuspecting wives at home in Salt Lake City -were earnestly praying the Lord to bless him in his “mission.” - -Whatever the Apostle may have thought of his associate, he could not very -well remonstrate with him, for he himself was, and had been for some -time, doing a good deal in that line with an amiable Connecticut girl, -and was only waiting for special permission from Brigham Young, to add -her to the half-dozen wives he already had in Utah. - -There was, moreover, another High-Priest attached to that office, but -no one seemed to understand his exact position. To all appearance his -principal occupation was travelling from New York to Connecticut and from -Connecticut back again to New York. He was a very robust-looking man, -but it was reported that he was troubled with heart-disease, and that -the purer air of Connecticut was a great relief to him. This I fully -believed when, some time after, I discovered that the young lady engaged -to the Apostle had a charming sister, for I thought it very probable that -she rendered no small assistance to the Connecticut air in giving relief -to his diseased heart. - -My husband not being at that particular time under the influence of -“heart-disease,” soon became very useful on the editorial staff. In fact, -pretty well everything was left to him, and not unfrequently for two or -three days he saw nothing of the Apostle or either of his associates, -and the whole responsibility of getting out the paper—at the magnificent -salary of four dollars a week!—rested upon him. He was told that he must -regard it as a mission, and be prepared to act accordingly. - -In course of time, however, the visits to Connecticut came to an end. -The Apostle obtained Brother Brigham’s permission to practise a little -Polygamy among the Gentiles, and Miss Young made him an excellent -housekeeper in a handsomely furnished house in Brooklyn. The poor -High-Priest and the Seventy did not fare so well: they were expected -to wait until they reached Zion. The two young ladies to whom they -were engaged were amiable and good girls, who would without doubt have -met with excellent husbands either in or out of the Church; but the -name of an Apostle or High-Priest—when the men themselves were away -from home—carried with it many charms, and won the hearts of the young -ladies and their friends. The Apostle was, of course, well used to the -training of wives in the “celestial order,” and when he returned home -with his youngest bride he suffered no particular inconvenience. But the -High-Priests realized the truth of the adage “The course of true love -never did run smooth.” The first wife of one of them refused to have -anything to do with his new bride, and kept him at a respectful distance -from herself then and ever afterwards; while the first wife of the other -declined to acknowledge the claims of her youthful rival. The first -High-Priest has gone to heaven; the other, in the course of time, gave a -bill of divorce to his wife. What happiness either of these three girls -found in Polygamy they best know, but the young widow appears decidedly -the happiest of the three. - -I had heard much while in London about men taking wives “from principle,” -and that, after the first wife, they made no open display of their love, -but I could not see that they differed in the slightest from their -Gentile brethren in that respect; the Utah Elders of whom I have spoken -always seemed to be very human. In all Polygamic courtships that I have -since witnessed, the brethren have appeared to think that the “Lord’s” -revelation was a trifle too slow in arranging affairs of the heart, and -they have been zealously preparing for its coming. In some instances -the revelation has come too late, and in many others it would have been -very disastrous if it had not come at all. In all cases it may be safely -asserted that all that has been said about getting the consent of the -first wife and obtaining a revelation from the Lord as to whether it is -pleasing in His sight for a man to take another wife, or not—is pure -folly and nonsense. Brigham Young is the only “lord” who has ever been -consulted on that question. If he acknowledged this to the people and -they chose to abide by it, they alone would be to blame; but it is the -grossest of frauds for men claiming to be the representatives of Jesus -Christ to play upon the credulity of an honest people, trifling with -the most sacred subjects, and telling them that God answers by special -revelation and declares whether or not it is His will that each of these -plural marriages should take place. The Apostles and Elders themselves -are not deceived. They know well enough that there is no truth in all -this mockery; they know that the only source of all their revelations is -the man Brigham Young. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - -SAINTLY PILGRIMS ON THE WAY—THE “DIVINE” HAND-CART SCHEME. - - -One Sunday morning in early spring I attended a meeting of the Saints in -Williamsburgh. - -My husband was there, and took part in the service, and so did the -Apostle Taylor, and one or two other Utah Elders. I went to that meeting -in a very desponding state of mind, for our prospects since the day of -our arrival had not brightened very much, and I felt the need of some -comforting and cheering words. - -Whether it was the influence of the clear spring morning, or that the -Elders had noticed the depression of spirit among the Saints, I cannot -tell, but I know that on that particular occasion their words seemed to -me more earnest and encouraging than they had been for a long time past. - -As we came out from the meeting, Brother Benton, one of the Elders, -stepped up to my husband, and said, “Brother Stenhouse, _they_ are -expected to arrive to-night or to-morrow; I suppose you will be down at -the ‘Gardens’ to meet them.” - -I knew well enough who “they” were who were expected to arrive, and so -did Mr. Stenhouse. “Yes,” he said, “of course I shall be there, but -most likely we shall have to wait a few days before they come.” Then he -stopped and talked over the matter with Elder Benton. - -Now it chanced that at that time Brigham Young was trying an experiment. -The “Prophet of the Lord” sometimes finds it necessary—notwithstanding -the “revelations” which he is supposed to receive—to try experiments like -other men before he can feel sure that his plans are likely to succeed. -The only difference between him and other men is, that he—knowing -himself that his plans are his own inventions, or the inventions of the -leaders—gives out that they come direct from God, thereby deceiving the -ignorant, innocent, and confiding people; and when his plans fail, as -they often do, he never confesses that he is wrong or mistaken, but lays -all the blame on some other person, or, failing that, on “the Lord” or -the devil. Other men, as a rule, say nothing about “the Lord” or devil, -but when their experiments fail they frankly confess that they themselves -were not inspired, but were liable to err. That is all the difference. - -In the present instance Brigham Young tried an experiment upon a rather -large scale. - -Up to the year 1856 the Mormon emigrants made the journey from the -Frontiers across the Plains by ox-teams, as I have already described, -and every season some of the wealthier Mormons formed themselves into an -independent company, paid their own expenses, and travelled with more -comfort. The expense to the poorer emigrants was very small, for they -performed the greater part of the journey on foot—the ox-teams being used -for transporting provisions and baggage—one hundred pounds of the latter -being allowed to each emigrant. - -This “plan” was, so far, a success, and the settlements of the Saints -increased thereby, slowly but surely, in population and wealth. There -were, however, at that time, thousands of Saints in Europe anxious to -emigrate, but who were too poor to provide the small sum requisite for -that purpose. During the winter of 1855 this difficulty was discussed -in Conference by Brigham and the leading men in Salt Lake, and some -one suggested what was afterwards known as the “Hand-Cart Scheme.” The -idea of this “scheme” was to transfer the people from Liverpool to the -Frontiers in the cheapest possible way, and for them then to cross the -Plains with light-made hand-carts, just strong enough to carry the fewest -possible necessary articles, but sufficiently light for the men, women, -and even young girls, to draw them. - -This “plan” would not perhaps have been a bad one if it had been properly -carried out, and if Brigham Young had seen, as he might have done, that -suitable preparations were made beforehand. But the Hand-Cart Emigration -Scheme began with a lie and ended in ruin. - -The confiding Saints were told that “God” had specially inspired His -servant Brigham for this purpose, and the scheme was a revelation -direct from on high.—No proper measures were taken to provide for the -emigrants—all was done upon faith—faith on the part of the people in -their—as they supposed—inspired leaders; deception on the part of those -leaders towards the people, whose only fault was that they trusted them -too well. - -The _Millennial Star_ proclaimed the “plan” to the Saints in Europe, -and so great was the response to this special summons that in that -year—1856—it was roughly estimated that no fewer than five or six -thousand Mormon emigrants travelled from Liverpool to Salt Lake City. -It was the first company of these emigrants that Brother Benton alluded -to when he told Mr. Stenhouse that “_they_” were expected that night or -the next; but in those days emigrant vessels were frequently delayed by -adverse winds and other circumstances, and no one could calculate upon -the exact time of their arrival in port. - -The following morning, my husband, when he returned from the _Mormon_ -office, brought with him a letter bearing the English postmark, and -addressed to me in the neat unmistakable handwriting of Mary Burton. -I had been waiting and watching for a letter from her ever since our -arrival; I was anxious to hear from her, and I hastily tore it open, so -impatient was I to know how she was getting on. What I read interested -me deeply, though it did not surprise me. I had seen Mary many times -after the interview which I have already related, and our conversations -and discussions were to us of all-absorbing interest; but as they were -mostly personal I have not cared to record them in this narrative. To -tell the truth, her love affairs with Elder Shrewsbury occupied more and -more the most prominent place in all our discussions. His enthusiasm was -perfectly infectious. As long as Mary absolutely refused to see him, her -love for him and her faith in Mormonism were anything but overpowering. -But Elder Shrewsbury was one of those peculiar persons who have a sort of -magnetic charm about them; who, without our knowing it, or even, in some -instances, contrary to our will and reason, enlist all our sympathies and -leave behind them an impression that we vainly try to efface. He only -wanted _opportunity_, and his success was sure. - -Opportunity he had had for pressing his suit with Mary and making an -impression upon her heart, ever since the day when they met at my door, -and had taken that walk together, as Mary said, for the purpose of -discussing important matters. - -Now the letter which I received opened to me another chapter in Mary’s -life, which without the gift of prophecy I might have easily predicted. -Elder Shrewsbury’s patience and perseverance met with their due reward, -and Mary at length promised to become his wife; but fascinated though she -was, and herself almost as deeply in love as he was, she nevertheless -made one condition which showed that she had not entirely lost that -prudence and determination which she had shown in the early days of their -courtship. - -“When he spoke to me in _that_ way—you know _how_, Sister Stenhouse”—she -said in her impulsive way, “How could I persist in saying _No_ to him? -It wasn’t in my heart to do so. I didn’t say ‘Yes’ in so many words, but -I simply said nothing, and he took my silence for consent. Then—but no, -I won’t even tell _you_ everything.... I know he thought he was going to -have it all his own way; but I didn’t think so. I told him then that I -had firmly resolved upon one thing—that I never would marry him unless he -made a solemn vow and promise before God that he would never enter into -Polygamy. I could not hide from him that I loved him—he knew it and could -see it; but I said I _never_ would go to Utah alone, and I certainly -never would marry at the risk of my husband taking another wife. No; I -was willing to give him my heart, my all—it was only fair for him to do -the same by me.... He was very near me then, and my hand was in his; and -he was looking into my eyes. Then he whispered the promise I had asked of -him, and, dear Sister Stenhouse, I _know_ I can depend upon _his_ word. -We shall be happier in this world _by ourselves_, and we feel quite sure -that God will not ask us to do anything in heaven that would make us -miserable. Perhaps I oughtn’t to say this, but I’m so happy that I cannot -allow myself one single wretched doubt about the future or _my_ husband, -such as I used to have.... We were married on the 27th of January.... - -“And now we are getting ready for Zion, and are busy day and night. Of -course you have heard of the “Divine Plan”—the Hand-Cart Scheme. Oh, -Sister Stenhouse, I am so very, _very_ much ashamed of myself for all -the wicked things that I used to say about the Apostles and the Elders. -Since our marriage, Elder Shrewsbury has explained everything to me, and -set things in their right light. It is a glorious privilege for us to be -permitted to gather to Zion, and now that I know my dear husband will -never even think of another besides myself, I glory in the thought of -leaving the Gentile world and all its wickedness.... - -“We go with the first company this season. - -“I will tell you all the rest of the news when I meet you, dear.” - -So Mary Burton was married, and coming with the Hand-Cart Company. “Why,” -I said, turning to my husband, “they’ll be here in a day or two now.” - -“Perhaps to-day,” he replied. - -They did not, however, arrive either that day or the next; but towards -the end of the week we were told that their vessel was in the river, and -I accompanied my husband to Castle Gardens to see them. - -A strange spectacle was presented to our view. More than six hundred -Mormon emigrants were gathered there, all on their way to Zion, and -burning with zeal and enthusiasm worthy of a better cause. There were -aged men and women, whose heads were hoary with the snows of many a -winter, and whose tottering steps had borne them to the verge of three -score years and ten; there were stout-hearted fathers and families, and -matrons with sons and daughters growing up around them; there were young -men in the pride and strength of manhood; and maidens in the modest blush -of womanly beauty; and little toddling children, and babes in their -mothers’ arms—all obedient to what they thought was the command of God -Himself—all with their faces set steadfastly and anxiously Zionward. - -Let not the reader smile at the blind infatuation of those poor -emigrants. Would he or she have suffered so confidingly—so faithfully—for -his or her religion? They might be mistaken; but truly theirs was a -faith which “hoped all things, believed all things, endured all things.” -Surely, in His sight—who judges the heart—the blind obedience of those -men and women who were ready to suffer and to endure unto the bitter -end, because in their child-like faith they thought that it was His holy -will—such practical devotion was more truly acceptable than the formal -professions of an untested faith. - -I met at Castle Gardens many whom I had known in the old country; but it -was one particular face which I was anxious to see. A man wrapped in a -thick great coat, and with a fur cap upon his head, brushed against me; -and before I had time to raise my eyes, my hand was grasped in his, and I -heard Mary’s husband say, “Oh Sister Stenhouse, I’m so glad to see you; I -knew we should meet you in New York. Come and see Mary. She’s _my_ Mary -now!” - -I went with Elder Shrewsbury and I saw Mary. But oh, how greatly was she -changed! When I returned from our Swiss mission and saw her after an -interval of several years, I was, of course, struck with the alteration -which had then transformed her from a pretty little fairy-like girl -into a decorous young lady contemplating matrimony; but although I had -now been absent from England only a few months, I observed a much more -striking alteration in her than on the previous occasion. It was not now, -I thought, so much an outward and personal change, as a new development -of her inner consciousness—her soul itself. Her form was as graceful, and -her eyes as bright as ever; but from those eyes there now shone forth -another light than that which I had thought so charming in the by-gone -time. - -Her affection for me was as warm and demonstrative as when we first met. -She recognized me in a moment, before her husband had time to say a word; -and, throwing both her arms round me, she kissed me again and again with -all the effusion of her childish days. Taking my hand she led me gently -into a quiet corner and seated me beside her on a big trunk, and then -she began to talk. It was the same soft sweet voice again, which used to -be so dear to me when I was left all alone in Southampton, soon after my -marriage, while my husband was on mission in Italy. - -She told me all the story of her courtship—all, and much more, than she -had told me in her letter. But it was when she came to speak of her -marriage, of her husband, and especially of their pilgrimage to Utah, -that I observed more especially the change which had taken place in her. -She was no longer the light-hearted girl, half-doubting her strange -religion, and rejecting it altogether when it did not coincide with her -own ideas and wishes. No: Elder Shrewsbury—had he been ten times a Mormon -Elder—could not have wished for a more obedient, a more earnest, I might -say, a more fanatical believer than was now to be found in his young and -beautiful wife. Her eyes really glowed with enthusiasm as she spoke of -“the work of the Lord” and of “gathering to Zion;” and her voice, though -soft and sweet as ever, had in it, now and then, a tinge of sternness -which told of a determination and spirit which the casual observer would -never have suspected. - -I expressed some surprise that she and her husband, not being without -funds, should have gone with the Hand-Cart Company when they might -have waited and have gone with so much more comfort with one of the -independent companies. - -“Why, Sister Stenhouse,” she said, “we have done it as a matter of faith. -Certainly we could have afforded to go in any way we chose, but my -husband said we ought to be an example to the poorer saints; so we gave -away nearly all our money to help the emigration fund, and then we came, -just as you see us, along with the rest.” - -“But the danger and discomfort is so great,” I suggested. “Surely the -Lord does not want us to sacrifice ourselves when no one is benefitted by -it?” - -“Not a bit,” said she; “there’s no danger, Sister Stenhouse, and if there -were it would only please me all the more. As for discomfort, why we -should have had that any way, and we both glory in making sacrifices. -Besides which, we have been told by the Apostle that this will be the -most pleasant and successful journey across the Plains that has ever been -made.” - -“I am a little doubtful of the promises of Apostles and Elders,” I said; -“and I remember, Mary, when you used to agree with me.” - -“I know I did,” she answered; “but Brother Shrewsbury has shown me how -wrong I was—I never doubt _now_. But I think you have a wrong notion -about this hand-cart scheme. It is not an ordinary plan such as any man -might have made. God Himself revealed this plan to Brigham, and in fact -we call it ‘the divine plan’ in our songs. Oh, you should hear our songs! -They’re a little rough, but the singing is so earnest and the voices of -the men and girls blend so well together, that I know you’d like them. -There’s only one thing that I don’t like about this plan, and that I -daresay is all right if only I knew it.” - -“I think, Mary,” I said, “I could tell you a good deal that you wouldn’t -like if you knew it.” - -“No, dear,” she replied hastily, as if afraid to hear me, “don’t tell -me unpleasant matters. I’ll tell you all I meant. The Prophet and Heber -C. Kimball, and Jedediah Grant, counselled the richer emigrants to give -as much as they could—all their property, if they had faith enough—to -help the poor brethren to emigrate; but the American Elders had private -instructions—so Brother Shrewsbury told me—to use the money to help -out all the unmarried girls who are willing to go. I confess that this -troubled me not a little; but my husband says that when we get to Zion we -shall find all will be right, and of course I believe him.” - -Mary’s conversation puzzled me a good deal at the time. She had formerly -been so clear-sighted and so unbiassed by prejudice, and now she seemed -ready to believe anything. All her husband’s enthusiasm was now her own; -she saw with his eyes, and in the intensity of her love for him she -believed all that he accepted as true. Long after, when I thought of that -short interview, I called to mind her impulsive earnestness, and I felt -that a secret misgiving, unconsciously to herself, was partly the cause -of it. Unknown to herself her excess of zeal was the offspring of doubt. - -Life in the future was in anticipation to my poor friend one long day of -hope and happiness. She could not see the shadow of a cloud—no coming -sorrow darkened her way. Zion, to her excited imagination, was the abode -of peace, and sanctity, and unchanging joy. - -I asked her whether the Saints in England had heard any of those strange -reports about Brigham Young defying the Government, which had attracted -so much attention in this country. - -“Certainly,” she said; “it is because the day is so very near when all -intercourse between God’s people and the Gentile world shall be cut off -for ever that these great efforts are being made to gather the Saints to -Zion. Of course you know this, but I don’t think you know all. Why, at -the last general conference in Liverpool, the president had instructions -from Salt Lake to propose Brigham Young as ‘prophet, seer, revelator, and -_King_!’” - -“_King?_” I said. “How can President Young ever be ‘king’? Utah is part -of the territory of the States, and under their jurisdiction; it is not -even a State itself yet, and Congress has refused to sanction the name of -_Deseret_. This country will never suffer a kingdom to be set up in Utah; -you must be misinformed, Sister Mary.” - -“No, Sister Stenhouse,” she exclaimed, “I am under no mistake. My husband -assured me that the conference accepted the proposition, and that it was -received unanimously. The Saints are gathering in from all parts of the -world, and when war is declared they will not be found unprepared. Why, -here on board with us, the American Elders are all provided with swords -and revolvers of the very best make that could be got for love or money, -and I myself have heard them say that Brigham Young intends shortly to -declare his independence of the United States. We didn’t know this before -we left England, but we felt sure that he had some great purpose in view -which had been revealed to him.” - -“Before we left,” I said, “the Saints were all eager to emigrate.” - -“Yes, dear,” she answered, “but nothing like they are now. You have no -idea how excited and anxious everybody is. Some of the people, in order -to obey counsel, sold their watches and jewellery, and even their best -clothes, scarcely keeping enough for the journey, and every one who had -any money gave it away. Brigham Young set a noble example in that; even -the Gentiles would admire him if they knew all. Why, we had on board -ship with us Brother Tenant, the rich new convert, who paid thirty -thousand dollars for the property which Brigham Young so generously gave -to help the Emigration Fund. He hardly had enough left to carry him and -his family to Zion; and now he is going to cross the Plains with us, to -settle in Salt Lake City. He is somewhere here among the emigrants, I -believe, at the present moment, and you could ask him all about it if you -liked. The brethren assure him that Brother Brigham is so liberal that he -will get vastly more than the value of his thirty thousand dollars when -he reaches Zion, and I hope he will, for I like both him and his wife.” - -All this was thus far true, but it was with some misgivings that I heard -Mary talk about it. Still I tried to persuade myself that it was a sin to -doubt. How little did either of us imagine that after poor Mr. Tenant’s -miserable death upon the Plains we should live to see his wife—destitute -and defrauded of her property by generous-hearted Brigham—dragging out a -miserable existence in Zion, and dependent even for a crust of bread upon -the kindness of the brethren. And yet, as I have previously stated, this -was how the Prophet, under the mask of liberality, contrived, for his own -purposes, to cheat this unfortunate and too-confiding Saint. - -Then we talked of what more nearly interested ourselves, and Mary asked -me when Mr. Stenhouse and myself were coming out. I told her that it was -quite uncertain, but that we expected to before long. “At any rate you -will come out before the season is over?” she said. - -“Most likely so,” I replied; “but you will be safely there and settled -before we arrive.” - -How little did she imagine the fearful scenes she was to witness—the -terrible sufferings she was to endure—before the season she spoke of had -passed away. Could I at that time have known all, I would have prayed -that sooner than set out on that fearful journey she might find refuge -in the grave from the horrors which, unknown to her, were brooding over -her way. - -We talked long, and then my husband joined us—Elder Shrewsbury was called -away by some necessary duty—and when we parted it was with many promises -to write frequently to each other of our common religious interests, as -well as the welfare of ourselves and those we loved. Then I spoke with -several other old friends, and we exchanged greetings with all sorts -of people, for my husband wherever he goes is always sure to be upon -speaking terms with almost everybody he meets. - -The Hand-Cart Company left New York for Utah—a long and formidable -journey at best—but in that instance, through mismanagement and neglect, -one of the most fatal expeditions that imprudent man has ever undertaken; -and it was not until months and months had passed away, and another -season had come round, that we heard anything of their fate. - -And time went on, but my troubles did not lighten. My husband still -continued to work at the _Mormon_ office, and after a while his salary -was slightly increased from time to time; but still his earnings were -altogether inadequate for the support of a family, and I found it -absolutely necessary to obtain some employment for myself. It cost me -many a long and weary day of search and inquiry, and many a battle -with my pride, before I could get anything to do; but at last I was -successful, and although my little ones required constant attention, I -contrived to add a very decent quota to the scanty family purse. - -And thus matters continued until the following year—our life of -uncertainty and care unchanged. Little in my life at that time is worth -recording: to me it was one long, painful struggle, and any change which -could come I felt must be for the better. My experience of Mormonism was -of course enlarged as new facts presented themselves to my observation, -and by nothing was my faith so much shaken as by the discrepancies -between the written and spoken Mormonism which was presented with fair -face to the European Saints and the world at large, and the actual -conduct of the Elders. - -From the first moment when Polygamy was announced, the leaders had -strictly forbidden the missionaries to enter into any alliances with -the sisters abroad, or to make any proposals of marriage to them, or -to enter into any matrimonial covenants. In the language of Heber C. -Kimball—Brigham’s first counsellor—they were “not to pick out from the -flock the young, fair, and tender lambs,” but were to bring them all -safely home to Zion. - -This counsel was all very well, for it tended to keep the Elders out of -mischief, and afforded an opportunity to the brethren at home to select -more and more youthful wives from the fair converts who were gathered in -to Zion. But the missionaries found it very irksome to obey this counsel, -and in point of fact those who did so formed a very small minority. - -One of the missionaries who had just returned from Europe came one day to -our house in New York, and brought a youthful sister with him. He was by -no means a handsome man or prepossessing in his appearance, but I saw at -once that he had succeeded in obtaining considerable influence over the -young sister’s mind. He said she was not very happy, and he wanted her to -stay with some respectable family for a week or two until they set out -for Utah, and I agreed that she should stay with us. - -She began to play with the children, and took one of them in her arms -in a way which attracted my attention, for I noticed that tears were -in her eyes, and she excited my sympathy. I asked her as gently and as -delicately as I could what was the matter with her, and what her sorrow -was, and she told me that she herself had two little ones at home and was -wretched at being parted from them. She had obeyed counsel, and had left -her husband and a happy home to go to Zion. She loved them all dearly; -but, deluded by false teachings, and promises that she should soon have -her children again, she had stolen away and left them all. - -I reasoned with her, tried to make her see how wrongly she had acted, -and persuaded her to return to her husband and seek his forgiveness. But -it was all in vain. The salvation of her soul she thought was beyond all -earthly considerations; she must stifle the suggestions of her heart -within her; she must hasten to Zion. Thus she left me, and like many -another victim, I never expected to see her again. - -One morning, a few months later, I was astonished to receive a visit from -her. After expressing my pleasure at seeing her once more, she told me -that what I said had so impressed her that when the emigrants had arrived -at St. Louis she had refused to proceed any further on the journey, had -written to her husband, had made everything right with him, and was now -on her way back to her home in England. - -My story is so full of painful reminiscences, that it is with pleasure -that I record this incident—one of the rare cases in which folly was -not succeeded by utter ruin and misery. Alas, how many instances I -might mention, which fell beneath my own personal observation, of wives -and mothers led away by the delusive doctrines which they mistook for -inspiration, and who sought vainly, through years of misery, for peace -and rest, until at length they found it in the darkness of the tomb. - -Towards the end of the year 1857, the difficulties in Utah, and a -financial panic in New York, resulted in the discontinuance of the -_Mormon_. My husband was thus thrown out of employment, and to add to -our difficulties the people for whom I worked suspended operations. This -new trial of our faith, however, was not long; out of apparent evil -good came. Released from his obligations to the Apostle and the Mormon -paper, my husband now set earnestly to work to obtain a living without -the crippling influences of “counsel” or the dictates of those whom his -religion taught him to respect. - -I had always believed that if suffered to act for himself, his energy -was such that he would certainly carve his way to a respectable position -in the world. In this I was not deceived, either at the time of which -I speak or at a later period when, in Salt Lake City, he engaged in -active business on his own account. In New York, where he had been, by -this time, appointed President of the Eastern Mission, and was actively -engaged in advocating the claims of the Mormon Church, he sought and -found employment on the staff of the _Herald_, and in connexion with -other daily papers; and such was his success, that from a condition of -misery and poverty we were very soon raised to a position of comfort, -and surrounded by every luxury suitable to our station in life; and this -position we enjoyed until called upon to leave all and journey across the -Plains to Zion. - -Our own journey to Zion was postponed for a while; but not long before -we set forth, I received the long-expected letter which Mary Burton had -promised me; and as it contains a vivid picture of a mode of transit—the -only mode which could _then_ be used—across the Plains, and shows what -people were forced to endure so recently as a few short years ago, I -shall give it in the following chapter; for I feel sure that if the -reader did not peruse the story in the exact words of my unfortunate -friend, he never would believe that in this country and in our own times -such a terrible tragedy could have been enacted. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - -A TERRIBLE STORY:—THE HAND-CART EMIGRANTS CROSSING THE PLAINS. - - -“I promised to write and tell you all about our journey across the -Plains, but I little expected to have such a terrible tale to tell. - -“You have heard so much of the journey to Salt Lake Valley that you -know pretty well how we must have travelled to Iowa City, where it was -necessary that we should wait until the whole company was quite ready for -the long journey which lay before us. - -“Our life up to a certain point was much the same, and we met with the -same difficulties as all other emigrants who had gone before us. But -there the comparison ends. Privation, and toil, and weariness, and not -infrequently sickness and death, wore out many of the companies that went -before us, but they never suffered as we did. It is utterly impossible -for me to tell you all that we went through. And when I finish this -letter and lay down my pen, and even when you read the fearful story -of my own experience during that journey, you will still have but the -faintest idea of the horrors and sufferings which we endured. - -“At Iowa City we found nothing prepared for us. When we left Liverpool we -were told that hand-carts, provisions, and all that we needed, should be -provided before we arrived. If this had been done we should have had just -fairly time enough to travel over the Plains and reach Salt Lake before -the terrible cold of winter set in. As it was, everything went wrong. The -Elders who had been sent out before us to buy tents and carts and all -that we wanted had either been unfortunate or very careless, for, as I -said, when we arrived in Iowa City not the slightest preparation had been -made. - -“You know how strong my faith was when we left New York, and how Brother -Shrewsbury and myself were ready to sacrifice everything. I can assure -you that we were fully tested, and I do think that but for our strong -faith not a single soul of all that company would have survived that -journey. - -“Three companies had, after a long delay, been sent out before we reached -Iowa City. As it was then early in the season, they completed their -journey before the cold of winter set in. I afterwards heard that Brigham -Young and the Elders, when they saw those companies arrive safely in -Salt Lake City, spoke of the scheme as _a successful experiment_. We had -been taught that the scheme came directly from heaven, and was neither -speculation nor experiment, and when I heard that, after all, the Prophet -himself spoke of it as a matter of doubtful issue, I asked myself—_Whom_, -then, can we believe? - -“We waited three weeks in Iowa Camp while they were making the -hand-carts. They were very lightly made, and I think not at all suitable -for such a long and wearisome journey; and being so hastily put together, -and most of the wood unseasoned, they were utterly unfit for the rough -work for which they were constructed. Twenty of these carts—one to every -five—were allowed to every hundred persons, who were also allowed five -good-sized tents and one Chicago waggon, with three yoke of oxen, to -transport the baggage and provisions. We were only allowed seventeen -pounds of bedding and clothing each, which, with cooking utensils, &c., -made up about one hundred pounds to each cart, and that was quite as -much as the cart (itself only sixty pounds in weight) could carry. You -can see, Sister Stenhouse, how difficult it must have been out of every -hundred persons—men, women, and children—to find twenty who were strong -enough to pull even such frail things as those hand-carts were. The -married men and the young men and boys did the best they could, but they -could do no more, and some of the carts were drawn by young girls alone. - -“The girls and women who had no husbands used to occupy a tent by -themselves at night; but in the other tents, whole families, without -respect to age or sex, together with the young men who assisted them -during the day, used to find shelter. This you will see at once was -exceedingly inconvenient; but we had no choice, and we had been so long -associated, and had suffered so much together, that we did not feel it as -much as we otherwise must have done. - -[Illustration: “GATHERING TO ZION”—LIFE ON THE PLAINS. - -_To face p. 125._] - -“What weary days we spent! Hour after hour went by, mile after mile we -walked, and never, never seemed to be a step the further on our way. -Sometimes I recalled to mind a hymn which we used to sing at Sunday -School, when I was a child—an evening hymn in which we returned thanks -that we were— - - ‘A day’s march nearer home.’ - -“But day after day went by—wearily, hopelessly—and when each night came -on, and, tired and footsore, we lay down to rest, we seemed no nearer to -our home in Zion. - -“Do not think, Sister Stenhouse, that we gave way to despondency. What we -felt, God alone knows; but our poor weary hearts were full of confiding -faith in Him, and we placed undoubting confidence in the promises and -prophecies which we had received through His chosen servants. The young -folks were light-hearted and gay, and with all the enthusiasm of youth -they pressed on, thinking not of the way but only of the end; and their -example was most encouraging. - -“My husband was one of the bravest and truest of all that band. He -drew the cart which we shared with another Elder and his wife and -their grown-up daughter. They were old people—I mean the Elder and his -wife—and the daughter was an old maid, unpleasant, thin, and sour, and -too feeble to do anything. There were reasons why I was excused from -taking any share in hard work; but I felt as zealous as the rest, and day -after day walked beside my husband, thinking that, if nothing more, my -companionship might cheer him. The old folks walked behind, and so did -the children; but sometimes, when the little ones were very weary indeed, -the parents would place them on the top of the bedding in the hand-cart, -and give them a lift. But some of the elderly people who were unused to -walking far, and whom it was impossible to carry, suffered a great deal; -and sometimes mothers with children at their breasts would trudge on mile -after mile in all the heat and dust without a murmur or complaint, until -they almost dropped down with fatigue. What some of those poor creatures -suffered, no words could tell. - -“The sun shone down upon us with intense heat as we travelled through -Iowa, and the people from the farm-houses and villages came out to see -us, and wondered at our rashness in undertaking such a journey. They were -very kind to us, and came and visited us in our camps, and offered some -of the men work and good wages if they would stay there instead of going -on to Zion. A few of the people accepted these offers; but the Elders, -as you may suppose, watched carefully every company and every man; and -in the evening, when meetings for prayer and preaching were held, we -were earnestly exhorted to obedience, and the sin of acting upon our own -judgments was set forth in the very plainest terms. The kindness of the -Iowa people, however, encouraged us, and they freely gave to those who -most needed whatever they could to help us on our way. - -“And we needed help and sympathy. - -“Of course, with only one waggon to carry all the provisions for a -hundred persons, besides five tents, our supply of food was very limited. -At that period of the journey the grown-up people were allowed ten ounces -of flour a day and a little—and but a very little—coffee, sugar, rice, -and bacon. This was a very scanty allowance for people who all day long -had to draw the hand-carts or to trudge mile after mile in all that -burning heat and dust—but we never complained. Some of the men ate all -their rations at breakfast, and went without anything more until the next -morning, unless they were able to beg a little of some friendly farmer by -the way. The little children received just half as much as the others. -With a very small amount of management this inconvenience might certainly -have been avoided, for provisions of all sorts were very cheap in the -districts through which we passed. Some of the more thoughtful saints, I -know, felt very bitterly the injustice of this; for, as you are aware, we -had paid _all_ our expenses _in full_—even to the uttermost farthing; and -we had been promised in return a safe and sufficient outfit with plenty -of provisions, and in fact all that was necessary. Had we been left to -ourselves, we should of course have provided for every contingency; but -we came in obedience to counsel under the direction of the Church, and -after we had paid for everything; the Church even ‘took care’ of our -money, so that we therefore could not procure necessaries by the way, as -otherwise we might have done. - -“Thus wearily, and suffering not a little privation, we travelled all -through Iowa, until we came to the Missouri river and encamped at -Florence, a place about six miles north of Omaha, and there we remained -about a week, preparing for our journey across the Plains. - -“It was the middle of August when we arrived at Florence, and we had -been delayed so much on the way that it appeared to many of the more -experienced that it would now be the height of imprudence for us to cross -the Plains at that season. With old people, delicate women, and little -children, and without carriages of any sort—except the frail hand-carts -that carried our bedding—it would be a weary, long time, before we could -reach Salt Lake. Every step must be trudged on foot, and it was quite -impossible that we could walk many miles a day, while there was before us -a journey of over a thousand. Some of the Elders proposed that we should -settle where we were, or somewhere near by, until the following spring, -and then go on to Zion; but others who were more confident urged that we -should proceed at once. The Elders called a great meeting to settle the -matter, at which we were all present. - -“I should tell you that when we first started our whole company was -placed under the guidance of Elder James G. Willie as captain; and we -were again subdivided into five parties of about one hundred each, and -over every hundred was placed an Elder or sub-captain. The first hundred -was headed by Elder Atwood, the second by Levi Savage, the third by -William Woodward, the fourth by John Chislett, and the fifth by Elder -Ahmensen. About two hundred of the people were Scotch and Scandinavians; -nearly all the rest were English. All were assembled at the meeting. You -know, Sister Stenhouse, how meetings were held at home. Well, it was just -the same there. We, of course, had nothing really to say—we had only to -obey counsel and sanction the decision of the leading Elders. I used to -feel annoyed rather at that sort of thing in London, as you may remember; -but now, when life and death depended upon the wisdom of our decision, -with all my faith, I felt worse than annoyed, wicked as I have no doubt -it was for me to feel so. My husband never uttered a word, but I know he -felt much as I did, and in that he was not alone among the Elders. - -“We had neither vote nor influence—the Elders held our destiny in their -hands. In all our company there were only three or four men who had been -out to Salt Lake before, and of course they could not be overlooked, so -they gave their opinion at the meeting. They must have fully known the -dangers and difficulties of the way, and what hardships _must_ overtake -a company so scantily provided for as was ours, if we continued our -journey. But, for all that, they not only spoke slightingly of the danger -which threatened us, but prophesied, in the name of the Lord, that we -should pass through triumphantly and suffer neither loss nor harm. - -“One man alone—Levi Savage—dared to tell the truth. People well-mounted, -or even with good ox-teams, could safely and easily make the journey, -he said; but for a band of people like ourselves, with aged folks, and -women, and little children, to attempt it so late was little short of -madness. He strongly urged that we should take up our quarters there for -the Winter, when, he said, as soon as spring came on, we could safely and -successfully perform the remainder of our journey. - -“The other Elders thought that he was weak in the faith, and plainly -told him so; and one of them even said, ‘he’d eat all the snow that fell -between Florence and Salt Lake City.’ The people, of course, believed -without question what they were told to believe, for they had long ago -made up their minds that the leaders were inspired, and therefore they -dared not doubt them, and the prudent counsel of Brother Savage was -rejected accordingly. I was not near enough to hear his words, but I was -afterwards told that he said, ‘What I have said, I know is the truth; but -as you are counselled to go forward, I will go with you; I will work, and -rest, and suffer with you; and, if God wills it so, I will also die with -you.’ Never was man more faithful to his word than was Brother Savage, -and often after that, when sickness, and weariness, and cold, and hunger, -and death, overtook us—as he had foreseen—he never for one moment forgot -the promise which he had so solemnly made. - -“Then—the middle of August being passed—we left Florence behind us, -and began our weary journey across the Plains in much the same fashion -as we had already travelled through Iowa. We had, however, taken fresh -provisions to last us until we reached Utah, and as the oxen could not -draw so much extra weight, one sack, weighing about a hundred pounds, -was placed on each of the hand-carts, in addition to the other baggage. -This was a severe tax upon the endurance of the people, but most of them -bore it without a murmur. On the other hand, we fared a little better -in the matter of provisions, for we were allowed a pound of flour a day -each, and also, occasionally, a little fresh beef, and besides that each -hundred had three or four milch cows. As we continued our journey, and -the provisions were consumed, the burdens on the carts, of course, grew -lighter. - -“But this was only the beginning of our pilgrimage;—the end we could not -foresee. Every evening, when we pitched our tents, we endeavoured—by -songs, and jests, and interesting stories—to beguile the tediousness of -the way. The days were not quite so warm now, and the nights were more -chilly; but altogether, it was much more pleasant travelling than it was -in the earlier part of the journey, and no one seemed to remember the -almost prophetic remonstrance of Brother Savage. - -“Still we travelled very slowly, for the carts were always breaking down; -the wheels came off, and we had nothing to grease them with. The boxes -of the wheels were made of unseasoned wood, and the heavy pressure upon -them, and the dust that got into them, soon wore them out. Some of the -people cut off the tops of their boots and wrapped them round the axles, -and others cut up their tin plates and kettles for the same purpose; and -for grease they used soap, and even their pitiful allowance of bacon. But -as the days passed, and the flour began to be used up, these accidents -became less frequent. - -“Upon an average, they said, we travelled about fifteen miles a day, -which I think was very good. Some few days we even made a little over -twenty miles, but they were balanced by the shortcomings. We tried to -feel happy and hopeful, and even the aged and infirm tried to make light -of their toil and privations, for we did not see that heavy cloud which -was looming across our way. I frequently talked with the old and weakly -among the people, to whom both my husband and myself were able to offer -little kindnesses, and they all spoke cheerfully of our prospects. Such -faith had they in the promises of the Elders. - -“Just before we reached Wood river, vast herds of buffaloes appeared in -our vicinity, and one evening all our cattle stampeded, and the men had -to go in search of them. About thirty were lost, and after hunting after -them for three days, we gave them up. We had only one yoke of oxen now -for each waggon, and as the waggons were loaded each with three thousand -pounds of flower, the teams could not move them. So they yoked up the -beef-cattle, and cows, and heifers, but they were unmanageable; and at -last we were obliged again to place a sack of flower upon each hand-cart. - -“This sorely tried us all. Some of the people even complained, but the -greater part of us bore up bravely, believing that it was the will of the -Lord. We still had faith that all would yet be well. This was, however, -a hard blow. Our milch cows were useless to us, our beef-rations were -stopped, and the burdens which we drew were doubled. Every one did his or -her best, but many of us began to be disheartened, and could hardly get -along. - -“One evening there was quite a commotion in the camp. We had pitched -our tents for the night on the banks of the Platte river, I think, when -suddenly quite a grand turn-out of carriages and light waggons came up -from the east and joined us. Each carriage was drawn by four horses, and -the outfits were in first-class style. Nothing could be too good for -Apostles and other ‘distinguished’ servants of the Lord, I was anxious -to know who they were, but was not long in finding out. There was the -Apostle Franklin Richards, and Elders Webb and Felt, and Joseph A. Young, -the son of the Prophet, and Elders Dunbar, and Kimball, and Grant—all -returning Missionaries. They stayed with us all night, and in the morning -called a great meeting, and the Apostle Richards delivered a speech, -which since has troubled me not a little, and made me very sorrowful. - -“He had heard of what Brother Savage had said, and then and there, before -us all, he rebuked him. He then exhorted us to remember the hope set -before us, and told us to pray and work on, and especially to be obedient -to counsel; and he finished by solemnly prophesying, in the name of the -God of Israel, that the Almighty would make a way for us to Zion; and -that though the snow might fall and the storm rage on the right hand and -on the left, not a hair of our heads should be hurt. - -“Some of the people wept with joy as they heard these words. My own heart -was full. To me, this was the voice of inspiration—the voice of God—how -could I doubt again? - -“Sister Stenhouse, before a month was over, I saw with my own eyes that -prophecy, those promises, falsified to the very letter; and yet at the -time they came to me and to all else as the word of the Lord from heaven. -Tell me, if men can thus deceive themselves—for I do not doubt for a -moment that the Apostle believed his own prophecy—and if we could be so -sadly deluded as to believe that what was said was divine—what surety -have we for our religion at all? I strive against these sinful doubts, -but they _will_ sometimes creep into my heart unbidden. - -“The Apostle and the Elders with him told Captain Willie that they wanted -some fresh meat, and the Elders killed and gave them of our very best. -What could be denied to the Servants of the Lord? We were then more -than four hundred in number—aged men and feeble women, with babes and -poor little children too young to walk; many of them infirm and sick, -all of them footsore and weary. We were far away from home, travelling -slowly hundreds and hundreds of miles, worn out, and without sufficient -provisions for the way, or the remotest chance of obtaining any. And -yet, oh God! I shame to tell it; these servants of Heaven—our leaders, -our guides, our example—these chosen vessels who came to us, riding -comfortably and at ease in their well-appointed carriages, took of our -poverty—took the very best we had! - -“As they left the camp, I looked up into my husband’s face, and our eyes -met. We said not a word, but in our hearts there was the same thought. -Sister Stenhouse, there must have been that self-same thought in the mind -of many another poor soul who watched those Elders depart after they had -lectured us on faith and patience and obedience! - -“They crossed the river pleasantly enough, and pointed out the best -fording-place, and then they watched us wade through—the water there -being nearly a mile in width, and in some places two and even three feet -in depth—and though many of the heavy-laden carts were drawn by women and -girls they never so much as offered to lend us the aid of their handsome -teams. One sister told me that they watched the poor people crossing, -through glasses, as if it were an entertainment; but I did not see that, -and can hardly believe it was true. All that they did, however, was -to promise that when we reached Laramie we should find provisions and -bedding and other necessaries ready for us, and that they would send help -from Salt Lake Valley to meet us.” - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - -MARY BURTON’S STORY CONTINUED:—TERRIBLE ENDING OF THE HAND-CART SCHEME. - - -“It was early in September when we reached Laramie, but we found nothing -awaiting us there. We were all very much discouraged at this, and Captain -Willie called another meeting for consultation. We knew of course, -beforehand, that our position was very bad; but figures, when stated -plainly, become startling facts. We now learned that if we continued -at the same rate as that at which we had previously been travelling, -and received each the same allowance daily, we should be left utterly -destitute of provisions when we were yet three hundred and fifty -miles from the end of our journey. Nothing remained but to reduce our -allowance; so, instead of one pound, we were rationed at three-quarters -of a pound a day, and at the same time were forced to make incredible -exertions to travel faster. - -“Not long after this, Captain Willie received a message from the Apostle -Richards. It is the custom, you know, for people who want to send -messages to emigrants who come after them to write a note on a scrap of -paper, and tie it to a stone or a piece of wood, and leave it on the way. -No one disturbs it, as no one but the emigrants travel along that road, -and they are sure to find it. It was from a rough post-office like this -that Captain Willie got his letter. In it the Apostle told him that we -should receive supplies from Salt Lake when we reached the South Pass; -but that we knew would be too late. So our allowance was again reduced, -and after that we were rationed at an average of ten ounces for every -person over ten years of age. The men who drew the carts received twelve -ounces, the women and aged men nine ounces, and the children from four -to eight ounces according to age. Before this, the men with families had -done better than the single men, as they had been able to save a little -from the children’s rations, and of course they did not like this new -arrangement so well. - -“Picture to yourself these men—in the cool air of September, drawing -after them each one a loaded cart, with one or more children most -frequently superadded to its weight, trudging wearily every day, ten, -fifteen, or twenty miles over the rough desert, wading across streams -with the women and children, setting up tents at night, working as they -never worked before in all their lives, and withal keeping soul and body -together upon twelve ounces of flour a day. This is but one side of the -picture—the physical toil and endurance of the working men. Think what -the feeble and aged, the sick, the women and children, must have endured! - -“By this time many of those who had hitherto held out bravely began to -fail, and the people in general were greatly discouraged. Captain Willie -and the Elders who assisted him did their best to keep up the spirits -of the people, and to get them over as much ground as they could each -day. The captains over the hundreds had also no little work to perform -in distributing provisions, helping the sick and infirm, and, in fact, -superintending everything. - -“For some time the nights had been getting colder and colder, and by the -time we arrived at the Sweetwater river we suffered considerably from -that cause; we felt that winter was fast approaching. In fact, it came -on earlier and more severely last year than at any time before since the -Saints settled in Utah. Does it not seem strange that at the very time -when they were offering up special prayers for us in Zion, that we might -be defended from cold and storm, the terrors of a more than ordinary -winter overtook us and proved fatal to so many of our company? The -mountains were covered with snow; and it was soon quite evident, even to -those who had prophesied most loudly that the Lord would work a special -miracle in our behalf, that the storm-clouds of winter would soon burst -upon us. - -“You have never seen the Sweetwater river, so I may as well tell you that -it is a very irregular stream, and we had to cross it again and again -upon our way. As usual we had to wade through the water each time, and -though the men helped over the women and children as well as they could, -many of us got very wet indeed, and quite chilled, and we were all cold -and miserable. Still, our faith never gave way—some, I know, began to -doubt a little, but they had not yet lost all faith, and discouraged -and wretched, as indeed we were, the greater number bore up with heroic -resolution. I noticed, however, on the faces of some poor souls—men -and women—a peculiar expression which it is quite impossible for me to -describe. Later on I was led to believe that at that time they, perhaps -unconsciously, felt the presentiment of that fearful death which so soon -overtook them. - -“We suffered much at night. You may remember that I told you we were only -allowed seventeen pounds of clothing and bedding, and that, of course, -was of little use. Sleeping in a tent, under any circumstances, is not -generally pleasant to those who are accustomed to the shelter of a house; -but sleeping in a tent, exposed to the keen night air of a wilderness, -and with scarcely a rag of covering, was almost sufficient to prove fatal -to the stoutest and strongest. During the summer time, although our fare -was scanty and our labour incessant, we rose each morning refreshed and -strengthened, and ready for the toils of the day. But now we crept out of -our tents cramped and miserable, half-frozen, and with our eyes red and -tearful with the cold. We seemed to have no life left in us. - -“These things soon began to tell upon the health of every one of us, -especially upon the aged and those who were sickly. Hope at last died out -in their poor weary hearts. One by one they fell off—utterly worn out. -Poor things! how they had longed to see the promised Zion, and now all -expectation of peaceful rest on earth was over—the bitter end had come. - -“We dug graves for them by the wayside in the desert, and there we laid -them with many tears, scarcely daring to look one another in the face, -for we felt that our own time might perhaps be nearer than we thought. - -“One by one at first they fell off, but before long the deaths became so -frequent that it was seldom that we left a camp-ground without burying -one or more. This was, however, only the beginning of evil. - -“Soon it was no longer the aged and sickly who were taken off, but the -young and strong, who under other circumstances would have set disease -and death at defiance. Cold, hunger, and excessive toil brought on -dysentery; and when once attacked by that there was little hope for the -sufferer, for we had no medicine, and it was quite out of our power to -give them relief in any other way. I now began to fear for my husband, -for I had noticed for some time an expression of extreme weariness in his -face. Our trials had not hardened our hearts; on the contrary, I think, -as death seemed to be drawing near, our affection for each other grew -more pure and devoted, and in my heart I often prayed, that if it were -His will, God would let us die together and rest in the same grave. We -never spoke a word to each other on this subject, but we felt the more. -I exerted all my strength, and day after day toiled along at his side, -helping him all I could; but although he never complained, I saw in his -eyes a dull and heavy look which, more than any words, told of failing -strength and the approach of disease, and my heart sank within me. - -“But my own troubles did not alone engross my attention; there was too -much wretchedness around us to allow any one to be absorbed entirely in -his own griefs. Acts of devotion on the part of both parents and children -came before me daily such as would have put to shame the stories of -filial and parental piety which we used to be taught at school. - -“I saw one poor man, whose health had evidently never been strong, draw -the cart with his two little ones in it, as well as the baggage, mile -after mile, until he could hardly drag his weary limbs a step further; -his wife carried a little five-months old baby in her bosom. This they -did day after day, until disease attacked the husband, and it was evident -that he could bear up no longer. The next morning I saw him, pale as a -corpse, bowed down, and shivering in every limb, but still stumbling on -as best he could. Before the day was half over, the poor wife lagged -behind with her babe, and the husband did not seem to notice her. This -was not the result of heartlessness on his part; I believe that even then -he had lost all consciousness. He did not know it, but he was dying. -Still he stumbled on, until the short wintry day came to a close, and we -pitched our camp, and then I missed him. There was no time to inquire, -and a chill came over my heart as I thought of what might be his fate. -Presently my husband came to the tent and told me all. The poor man had -dragged the cart up to the last moment, and, when the company halted -for the night, he had turned aside, and sitting down he bowed his head -between his knees and never spoke again. Later still, the poor wife -reached the camp, and I saw her then. There was no tear in her eyes, -and she uttered neither cry nor moan, but there was upon her features a -terrible expression of fixed despair which I dared not even look upon. - -“A few days after this, one morning as we were almost ready to start, I -saw that poor mother in her tent, just as they had found her. She was -cold and still—frozen to death—her sorrows were over at last, and her -poor weary spirit was at rest; but on her bosom, still clasped in her -arms, and still living, was her little child, unconscious of its mother’s -fate. - -“Most of those who died, as far as I could tell, seemed to pass away -quietly and with little pain, as if every feeling of the heart were -numbed and dead. But my own sufferings and fears at that time were so -great that I could not be a very close observer. Strange as it may -seem, the fear of death did not so much appear to terrify these poor -victims as the thought that their bodies would be buried by the wayside -in the desert, instead of in the sacred ground of Zion. Poor souls! the -absorbing passion of their life was strong in death. - -“As death thinned our ranks, the labours of those who survived were -increased, until at last there were hardly enough left with strength -sufficient to pitch our tents at night. A great deal devolved upon the -captain of our hundred, Elder Chislett. He is a very good man, and a -devoted Saint; and I am glad to say that both he and a lady to whom he -was betrothed, and who was also with our company, escaped with their -lives. I have often seen him, when we stopped for the night, carrying the -sick and feeble on his back from the waggon to the fire, and then working -harder than a slave would work in putting things straight for the night. -He showed a great many kindnesses to my husband and myself. - -“But individual efforts availed nothing against fatigue and hunger, -and the fearful cold. To the minds of all of us, the end was fast -approaching. Nothing but our faith sustained us; and foolish as many -people would think that faith, I am quite sure, that but for it, no -living soul of all our company would have ever reached Salt Lake. - -“At last the storm came, and the snow fell—I think it must have been at -least five or six inches deep within half an hour. The wind was very -keen and cutting, and it drifted the snow right into our faces; and thus -blinded by the storm, and scarcely able to stand, we stumbled on that day -for fully sixteen miles. What we suffered it would be useless for me to -attempt to describe. Some of the scenes we witnessed were heart-rending. - -[Illustration: OVER AT LAST. - -_To face p. 136._] - -“There was a young girl, with whom I was very well acquainted, and whom I -saw struggling in the snow, clinging to one of the hand-carts, and vainly -trying to help in pushing it on, but really doing just the contrary. She -is now in Salt Lake City, a helpless cripple, her limbs downwards having -been frozen during that storm, and subsequently amputated. A poor old -woman, too, whom I think you must have known in London, lingered behind -later in the day. When night came on it was impossible for any one to -go back to search for her, but, in the morning, not very far from the -camp, some torn rags—the remains of her dress—were found, a few bones, a -quantity of hair, and at a little distance a female skull, well gnawed, -and with the marks of the wolf-fangs still wet upon it;—the snow all -round was crimsoned with blood. - -“We halted for a little while in the middle of that day, and to our -surprise and joy, Joseph A. Young and Elder Stephen Taylor drove into -the camp. We found that when the returning missionaries, of whom I have -already told you, left us by the Platte river, they made their way as -speedily as they could to Salt Lake City. Joseph A., who felt deeply for -our sufferings, although he had been away from home for two whole years, -hastened to his father, and reported to him the condition in which we -were. Brigham Young was of course anxious to undo the mischief which had -resulted from the people following his inspired counsel, and at his son’s -earnest entreaty allowed him to return with provisions and clothing to -meet us. Joseph A. lost no time, but pressed on to the rescue, and having -told us that assistance was on the way, hastened eastward to meet the -company that was following us. - -“I cannot tell you what a relief this intelligence was to the minds of -all, and how much the poor people felt encouraged by it. But as for me, -at that time my heart was sad enough. For some time my husband’s strength -had evidently been failing, and for the last two days I had felt very -serious apprehensions on his behalf. He had been overtasked, and like -the rest of us he was starving with cold and hunger, and I saw that he -could not hold out much longer. My worst fears were speedily realized. -We had not journeyed half a mile from the place where we rested at noon, -when, blinded by the snow, and completely broken down, he dropped the -rail of the cart, and I saw that he could go no further. How I felt, -you, as a wife and mother, only can guess. In a moment my own weakness -was forgotten; my love for my husband made me strong again. To leave -him there or to delay would have been death to one if not all of us. -So I called to those who shared the cart with us, and they helped me -as well as they could to lift my husband up, and put him under part -of the bedding. It was the only chance of saving his life; for, as I -before mentioned, some, previous to this, who had been overcome, and had -lingered by the way, had been frozen to death or devoured by the wolves. - -“I then took hold of the cross-bar or handle of the cart, and numbed with -the cold, and trembling in every limb, it was as much as I could do to -raise it from the ground. To move the cart was impossible, so I appealed -to the old folks again, and they exerted all their strength to push it -from behind, and our combined efforts at length succeeded; but the chief -weight fell upon me. How gladly I bore it; how gladly I would have borne -anything for the mere chance of saving my dear husband’s life, your own -heart can tell. - -“The snow drifted wildly around us, and beat in our faces so blindingly -that we could hardly proceed. The greater part of the train had passed on -while we delayed on account of my husband, and now every one was making -the most desperate efforts to keep up with the rest; to be left behind -was death. Had I been asked whether under any circumstances I could have -dragged that heavy cart along in all that storm, I should certainly have -replied that it would be utterly impossible; but until we are tried we -do not know what we can bear. It was not until the night came on, and we -pitched our tents, that I realized what I had passed through. - -“They helped me to carry my husband to the tent, and there we laid him, -and I tried to make him as easy as was possible under the circumstances, -but comfort or rest was altogether out of the question. All that night -I sat beside him, sometimes watching, sometimes falling into a fitful -sleep. I did not believe that he would live through the night. In the -morning he was by no means improved, and then I felt too truly the abject -misery of our position. It is a painful thing to watch at the bedside of -those we love when hope for their recovery is gone; but think what it -must be to sit upon the cold earth in the tent, upon the open desert, -with the piercing wind of winter penetrating to the very bones, and there -before you, the dear one—your life, your all on earth—dying, and you -without a drop of medicine, or even a morsel of the coarsest nourishment, -to give him. Oh, the bitterness of my soul at that moment! I tried to -pray, but my heart was full of cursing; it seemed to me as if even God -Himself had forgotten us. The fearful misery of that dark hour has left -on my soul itself a record as ineffaceable as the imprint of a burning -iron upon the flesh. - -“The morning broke at last, dark and dreary, and a thick heavy mantle -of snow covered all the camp; but we contrived to communicate with each -other, and soon it was whispered that five poor creatures had been found -dead in the tents. Want, and weariness, and the bitter cold, had done -their work, and we did not weep for them—they were at rest; but for -ourselves we wept that we were left behind—and we looked at one another, -wistfully, wondering which of us would be taken next. - -“We buried those five poor frozen corpses in one grave, wrapped in the -clothing in which they died, and then we comforted each other as best -we might, and left the dead who were now beyond our reach, that we -might do what we could for those who were fast following them to the -grave. A meeting of the leaders was held, and it was resolved that we -should remain where we were until the promised supplies reached us. -We could not, in fact, do otherwise, for the snow was so deep that -it was impossible for us to proceed, and the sick and dying demanded -immediate attention. That morning, for the first time, no flour was -distributed—there was none. All that remained, besides our miserable -cattle, was a small quantity of hard biscuit which Captain Willie bought -at Laramie, and a few pounds of rice and dried apples. Nearly all the -biscuit was at once divided among the whole company, and the few pounds -which remained, together with the rice and apples, were given to Elder -Chislett for the use of the sick and the very little children. They also -killed two of the cattle and divided the beef. Most of the people got -through their miserable allowance that very morning, and then they had to -fast. - -“Captain Willie set out that morning with another Elder to meet the -coming supplies and hasten them on, and as we saw them disappear in the -distant west we almost felt as if our last hope departed with them, so -many chances there were that we should never see them again. - -“The whole of that long, long day I sat beside my husband in the tent—and -I might almost say I did no more. There was nothing that I could do. The -little bedding that was allowed for both of us I made up into a couch -for him; but what a wretched makeshift it was! And I got from Elder -Chislett a few of the dried apples which had been reserved for the sick; -but it was not until nightfall that my husband was capable of swallowing -anything—and then, what nourishment to give to a sick man! The day was -freezing cold, and I had hardly anything on me, and had eaten nothing -since the day before; for my mind was so agitated that I do not think the -most delicate food would have tempted me. God alone knows the bitterness -of my heart as I sat there during all that weary day. I never expected to -see my husband open his eyes again, and I thought that when evening came -I would lie down beside him, and we would take our last long sleep on -earth together. - -“When night came on and all was dark I still sat there; I dreaded to -move lest I should learn the terrible truth—my husband dead! I looked -towards the place where I knew he was lying, but I could see nothing. I -listened, and I fancied that I heard a gentle breathing—but it was only -fancy. Then, louder than the incessant moaning of the wind, I could hear -in the distance a fearful cry—a cry which had often chilled our hearts -at midnight on the plains—it was the wolves! The darkness grew darker -still—so thick that one could almost feel it; the horror of death seemed -stealing over all my senses. Oh that there might be one long eternal -night to blot out for ever our miseries and our existence. I threw my -hands wildly above me, and cried bitterly, ‘Oh God, my God, _let me die_!’ - -“God was nearer to me than I thought. As my hand dropped lifelessly to -the ground it touched some moving thing—it was my husband’s hand—the -same hand which I had watched in the twilight, stiffening, as I thought, -in death. The long, thin fingers grasped my own, and though they were -very, very cold, I felt that life was in them; and as I stooped down to -kiss them I heard my husband’s voice, very weak and feeble, saying in a -whisper, ‘Mary.’ I threw myself upon his bosom. In a moment the fear of -death—the longing for death—the wild and terrible thoughts, all had gone; -the sound of that voice was life to me, and forgetful of his weakness, -forgetful of everything but him, I threw myself upon his bosom and wept -tears of joy. - -“Very carefully and gently I raised him up, and, in the darkness, every -whispered word conveyed more meaning to my mind than all his eloquence -in by-gone times. After some time I persuaded him to take a little -nourishment—miserable stuff that it was—and presently he fell asleep -again. I laid his dear head upon the best pillow that I could make of -some of my own clothes, and then I slept a little myself—not much, but it -was more refreshing than any sleep that had visited my eyes for a long -time past—hope had come again. - -“The next morning my husband was evidently better, and I knelt down -beside him and thanked God for the miracle that He had wrought; for was -it not a miracle thus to raise my dead to life again? How many stronger, -stouter men than he had I seen fall sick and die; but to me God had shown -mercy in my utmost need. - -“We waited three long days for the return of Captain Willie. My heart was -so full of thankfulness that my husband had been spared that I certainly -did not feel so acutely the misery with which I was surrounded as I -otherwise should have done; I was like the prisoner who feels happy in a -reprieve from death, but whose situation is nevertheless such as would -appear to any other person the most wretched in which he could be placed. -The misery that was suffered in that camp was beyond the power of words -to describe. On the second day they gave us some more beef-rations, -but they did us little good. The beef was, of course, of the poorest, -and, eaten alone, it did not seem to satisfy hunger, and those who were -prostrated by dysentery, although they ate it ravenously, suffered much -in consequence afterwards. - -“The number of the sick rapidly increased, and not a few died from -exhaustion; and really those seemed happiest who were thus taken from the -horrors which surrounded them. Had it not been for the intense frost, we -should all probably have fallen victims to the intolerable atmosphere of -the camp. I would not even allow my mind to recall some of the scenes -which I witnessed at that time: scenes, the disgusting and filthy horrors -of which no decent words could describe. When you consider the frightful -condition in which we were, the hunger and cold which we endured, you may -perhaps be able in a small degree to conjecture—as far as a person can -conjecture who has not himself suffered such things—what we then passed -through. I saw poor miserable creatures, utterly worn out, dying in the -arms of other forlorn and hopeless creatures as wretched as themselves; I -saw strong and honest, honourable men, or who had once been such, begging -of the captain for the miserable scraps which had been saved for the sick -and the helpless children; I saw poor heart-broken mothers freezing to -death, but clasping as they died, in an agony of loving woe, the torn -and wretched remnants of clothing which they still retained, around the -emaciated forms of their innocent babes—the mother-instinct strong in -death; and sometimes at night when, all unbidden, I see again in dreams -the awful sufferings of those poor God-forsaken wretches, I start in -horror and pray the Almighty rather to blot out from my mind the memory -of _all_ the past, than to let me ever recollect, if but in fancy, that -fearful time. - -“The third day came, and still no relief. There are mysterious powers of -endurance in human nature, weak as we often deem it, but there is a point -beyond which the bow, however flexible, will not bend. It was evident -that if no help arrived speedily, the end was not far off. - -“The sun was sinking behind the distant western hills, in all the glory -of the clear frosty atmosphere of the desert, and many who gazed upon -its beauty did so with a mournful interest, believing that they would -never again behold the light of day. But at that moment some who were -anxiously watching with a last hope—watching for what they hardly dared -expect to see—raised a shout of joy. We knew what it was! Men, women, and -children rushed from their tents to welcome the approaching waggons and -our friends in time of need. Captain Willie and the other Elder had found -the rescue from Salt Lake overtaken by the storm just as we were, but he -had told them of our terrible situation, and they had hastened on without -a moment’s delay. It was he and they, convoying good supplies, who now -approached us. The poor creatures shouted wildly for joy; even the strong -men shed tears; and the sisters, overcome with the sudden change from -death to life, flung themselves into the arms of the brethren as they -came into the camp and covered them with kisses. Such happiness you never -saw—every one shaking hands and speaking joyfully—every one saying ‘God -bless you’ with a meaning such as is seldom attached to those words. - -“The supplies were to us more than food and clothing—they were life -itself. Elder John Chislett was appointed to distribute the provisions -and clothing, and everything was placed in his hands. He gave out to us -all that was immediately necessary, but strongly cautioned us to be very -moderate in what we ate, as it was dangerous to go from the extreme of -fasting to a full meal. After supper the clothing and bedding was fairly -divided, and we felt more thankful for those little comforts than a -person, who had never endured as we had, would have felt had he become -suddenly the recipient of boundless luxury. - -“Two of the Elders who had held forth such delusive hopes to the company, -not long before, as I have already told you, were with the brethren who -came to our relief. I have never ventured to ask how it was that they -could hold out to us in God’s name such promises, when they must have -known after a moment’s reflection, that they were utterly baseless; but -I think that probably they left their comfortable homes in Salt Lake City -and came across the stormy desert with supplies to meet us, only to show -practically how anxious they were to atone for having led us astray. Next -morning Elder Grant went on east to meet the company following us, but -Elder W. H. Kimball took command of our company for the rest of the way. - -“We could now journey but very slowly, for the road was bad; the sick and -weakly were, however, able to ride, and altogether we suffered less. To -some this change for the better arrived too late—the mental and physical -sufferings which they had endured were too much for them. Poor souls! -they alone and their Father in heaven knew what they had passed through. -They seemed to have lost all consciousness, as if their faculties had -been numbed and stultified. We talked to them of the past, but they -looked at us with unmeaning eyes, as if we spoke of something in which -they had no interest; we tried to lead their thoughts to Zion, and the -promises of the Lord; but it was all in vain. They turned from us with a -look of terrible apathy; and one or two, who partly seemed to understand, -only replied with an indifference painful to witness—‘Too late, too late!’ - -“As we journeyed, the weather every day grew colder. Many of the -unfortunate people lost their fingers and toes, others their ears; one -poor woman lost her sight, and I was told of a poor sick man who held on -to the waggon-bars to save himself from jolting, and had all his fingers -frozen off. Few, if any, of the people recovered from the effects of -that frost. One morning they found a poor old man who had vainly tried -the evening before to keep up with the rest. His corpse was not far -from the camp, but it had been sadly mangled by the wolves. Then there -came another snow-storm, only worse in proportion as the weather was -colder, and it was with the utmost difficulty that we could be kept from -freezing. We wrapped blankets and anything else we could get around us, -but the cold wind penetrated to our very bones. I was told that some of -the people, even women and children, who lagged behind, were whipped so -as to make them keep up, and to keep life in them. I did not see this -myself; but I believe, if the story was true, it was an act of mercy -and not of cruelty, for to delay a moment was fatal. The captain of our -hundred more than once stayed behind the company to bury some unfortunate -person who died on the road: how he ever got up with us again I cannot -tell, but he seemed to be as indefatigable in his labours as he was -wonderfully preserved. - -“Sometimes the carts came to a dead stand-still, and several had to be -fastened together and drawn by a united effort, and in more than one -instance the poor people gave up altogether;—they were carried on, while -they lived, as well as we could; but their carts were abandoned. The -stragglers came in slowly to camp the night of the storm—the people from -the Valley even went back to fetch some in—and it was nearly six o’clock -in the morning before the last arrived. - -“The next day we remained in camp, for there were so many sick and dying -that we could not proceed. Early in the morning Elder Chislett and three -other Elders went round to see who was dead, that they might be buried. -They found in the tents fifteen corpses—all stiff and frozen. Two more -died during the day. A large square hole was dug, and they were buried in -it three abreast, and then they were covered with leaves and earth, every -precaution being taken to keep them from the wolves. Few of the relatives -of those who were dead came to the burial—they did not seem to care—death -had become familiar to them, and personal misery precluded sorrow for the -dead. - -“As we drew nearer to Salt Lake Valley we met more of the brethren -coming to our assistance. They supplied us with all we needed, and then -hastened on to meet those who followed us. The atmosphere seemed to -become sensibly warmer, and our sufferings were proportionately less as -we approached Zion. - -“What the feelings of others might have been when they first saw the goal -of our hopes—Zion of our prayers and songs—I cannot tell. Weary, oh _so_ -weary I felt, but thankful, more than thankful, that my husband’s life -had been spared. He was pale and sick, but he was with us still. - -“I have written too much already, Sister Stenhouse. I cannot tell you -more now, but I may as well add that when we left Iowa City we were about -five hundred in all. Some left us on the way. When we left Florence, -and began the journey across the Plains, we were over four hundred and -twenty, of which number we buried sixty-seven—a sixth of the whole. The -company which followed us, and to which I have frequently alluded, fared -worse than we. They numbered six hundred when they started, but they -buried one hundred and fifty on the journey—one in every four. May God -grant that I may never again see such a sight as was presented by the -miserable remnant of that last company as they came on slowly through the -Cañon towards Salt Lake Valley.” - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - -WE FORSAKE ALL, AND SET OUT FOR ZION:—OUR JOURNEY ACROSS THE PLAINS. - - -IT was with strange feelings of doubt and unrest that I read that painful -story; but I folded up Mary Burton’s letter and stored it carefully away -in my desk, and then I began to think. - -Certainly I was still a Mormon—at least I was nothing else—but I was not -now so firmly grounded in my faith as once I was, and these terrible -stories completely unsettled my mind. Then, too, I was well aware that, -before long, my husband and myself would be called upon to cross the -Plains to Zion, and I felt that if our experience were anything like -that of Mary Burton, I and my children would never reach Salt Lake. The -prospect was not very cheering. - -One morning we were surprised to receive a visit from the Apostle George -Q. Cannon, who had come to take the place of Mr. Stenhouse as President -of the Mission in the Eastern States, and we were now to prepare to -travel with the next company of emigrants. - -To me this was most unpleasant intelligence. Polygamy—the knowledge -that before long I should be brought personally within its degrading -influence—had now for years been the curse of my life, and I had welcomed -every reprieve from immediate contact with it in Utah. But the time had -come at last when I was to realize my worst apprehensions, and I think -at that time, had I been permitted to choose, I would have preferred to -die rather than journey to Zion. Besides this, ever since my husband had -been engaged with the secular papers, we had been getting along very -comfortably. We had now a pleasant home and many comforts and little -luxuries which we had not enjoyed since we left Switzerland, and I was -beginning to hope that we should be allowed to remain in New York for a -few years at least. We had also by this time six children—the youngest -only a few days old—and I leave it to any mother to determine whether I -had not good cause for vexation when I was told that we were expected -to leave New York within two weeks, with the emigrants who were then _en -route_ from England. My husband also was to take charge of the company, -and therefore everything would depend upon me—all the preparations for -our long and perilous journey, the disposal of our furniture, and, in -fact, the thousand and one little necessary duties which must attend the -packing up and departure of a family. - -In the course of a few days the emigrants arrived, and then my husband -was compelled to devote all his time to them. When I told the Elders that -it was almost impossible for me, in the delicate state of health in which -I was, and with a babe only two weeks old, to undertake such a journey, -they told me that I had no faith in the power of God, and that if I -would arise and begin my preparations, the Lord would give me strength -according to my day. Thinking that probably my husband believed as they -did, I made the effort, but it cost me much. In the Mormon Church the -feelings or sufferings of women are seldom considered. If an order is -given to any man to take a journey or perform any given task, his wife -or wives are not to be thought of. They are his property just as much as -his horses, mules, or oxen; and if one wife should die, it is of little -consequence if he has others, and if he has not he can easily get them; -and if he is not young or fascinating enough to win his way with the -young ladies, he has only to keep on good terms with Brigham Young, or -even with his bishop, and every difficulty will be smoothed away, and -they will be “counselled” to marry him. - -It is never expected, nor would it be tolerated in any Mormon woman, -that she should exercise her own judgment in opposition to her husband, -no matter how much she might feel that he was in the wrong: I have -frequently seen intelligent women subjected to the grossest tyranny on -the part of ignorant and fanatical husbands who were influenced by the -absurd teachings of the Tabernacle. One of the greatest Mormon writers, -Orson Pratt, has said,— - -“_The wife should never follow her own judgment in preference to that -of her husband_; for if her husband desires to do right, but errs in -judgment, the Lord will bless her in endeavouring to carry out his -counsels; for _God has placed him at the head_, and though he may err -in judgment, yet God will not justify the wife in disregarding his -instructions and counsels; far greater is the sin of rebellion, than the -errors which arise from the want of judgment; therefore _she would be -condemned for suffering her will to rise against his. Be obedient_, and -God will cause all things to work for good.” - -The trouble and annoyance occasioned by leaving a comfortable position -in New York to travel to such an unknown region as Utah was then, was -not a trifle; but we hastened our preparations, sacrificing all that we -possessed in the most reckless manner, and in due time set out. - -When we reached Florence—the starting-point on the Frontiers—we were -detained on account of some mismanagement on the part of the Church -Agents, and remained for three weeks in camp. Ours was what was called -“an independent company;” by which I mean that we were able to defray our -own expenses without borrowing from the Church: the poorer emigrants were -assisted from a fund provided for that purpose—the Perpetual Emigration -Fund. - -Our company was in an infinitely better position than that of those -emigrants of whose sad fate my friend Mary Burton had told me; for our -journey was made at the proper season, and, as far as was possible under -the circumstances, convenience and comfort had been attended to. The -incidents which befell us were few, and although, of course, every one -of us felt weary and worn out, we were not called upon to pass through -the miseries and sufferings endured by the hand-cart emigrants. Looking -back to our primitive mode of travelling, it appears to me almost as if -I must be making some mistake about my own age, and that it must have -been several centuries, instead of a few years ago, since we crossed -the Plains. The ox-team and waggon, the walk on foot in the day and the -camp-life at night, have been pleasantly exchanged for the swift travel -of a few days in a Pullman palace-car. - -What living contradictions we were as we crossed the Plains—singing in -a circle, night and morning, the songs of Zion and listening to prayers -and thanksgivings for having been permitted to gather out of Babylon; and -then during the day as we trudged along in twos and threes expressing to -each other all our misgivings, and doubts, and fears, and the bitterness -our thoughts against Polygamy; while each wife, confiding in her -husband’s honour and faithfulness, solaced herself with the hope that all -might yet be well. How little sometimes do the songs of gladness reflect -the real sentiments of the heart. How often have I heard many a poor -heart-broken woman singing the chorus,— - - “I never knew what joy was - Till I became a Mormon.” - -I never could sing that song, for my experience had been exactly the -reverse. - -It was the month of September—the beginning of our beautiful Indian -summer—when we emerged from the cañon, and caught sight of Salt Lake -City. Everything looked green and lovely, and in spite of all my sad -forebodings while crossing the Plains, I involuntarily exclaimed, “Ah, -what a glorious spot!” It looked like a beautiful garden—another Eden—in -the midst of a desert valley. We had a glimpse of the Great Salt Lake -far away in the distance, stretching out like a placid sheet of molten -silver, while everywhere around were the lonely-looking snow-clapped -mountains, encircling us like mighty prison-walls. - -It would be impossible for me to describe my feelings at that time. -Even while I was enchanted with the glorious prospect before me, there -arose again in my mind that haunting spectre of my existence—Polygamy. I -believed that this little earthly paradise would probably be to me, and -my daughters after me, a prison-house, and with a mother’s instinct I -shuddered as I thought of what they might be destined to suffer there. -Lovely as the scene was, there was a fatal shadow overhanging it all. -Then, too, there was no escape: if the sad forebodings of my heart were -realized, it would be utterly impossible for us ever to get away. The -idea of a railway being constructed across those desert plains and rocky -mountains never for a moment entered my mind, and even had I thought -it possible, I should have supposed that it would take a lifetime to -complete. No, there was no help for me, even if it came to the worst. I -felt that my doom was sealed; and there were many women in our company -who thought just the same as I did, and who were troubled at heart with -fears as sad as mine. - -My first impressions of Salt Lake City when we began life there were -anything but pleasant—we had to “rough it.” For nearly two weeks we were -obliged to remain in our waggons, as it was quite impossible to obtain -house-room. At that time each family built their own little hut, and -there were no vacant houses to let. - -[Illustration: VIEW OF MAIN STREET, SALT LAKE CITY. - -(_From a Photograph._) - -_To face p. 148._] - -The weather was now growing very cold and wintry, and it was absolutely -necessary that we should have some better shelter than the waggons -afforded. One day my husband told me, when he came home, that he had -been offered a house which belonged to the Church. It was in a very -dilapidated condition, he said, but that if I would go and look at it -with him, we could then decide about taking it. No time was to be -lost, for companies of emigrants were coming in almost daily, and if we -neglected this chance we might not find another. - -When we arrived at the house I was much discouraged at seeing the -condition it was in: the window-panes were all cracked or broken out, the -floors and walls looked as if they had never known soap or paint, and the -upper rooms had no ceilings; in fact it was not fit for any civilized -Christian to live in. In point of size there was nothing to complain of, -but of comfort or convenience there was none—the wind whistled through -every door and every cracked window; and altogether it presented anything -but a cheering prospect for winter. - -My husband told me that Daniel H. Wells, who was superintendent of Church -property and also one of the First Presidency of the Church, had promised -him that if we took the house it should be repaired and made fit for -living in before winter fully set in; and under the circumstances we -thought we could do no better than accept his offer. - -Thus we began housekeeping in Utah, and we unpacked our trunks and tried -to give the place as home-like an appearance as we possibly could. I -had known what it was to be in a strange country and destitute; and, -therefore, benefiting by experience, when I left New York, regardless of -the teachings of the Elders and of my own husband’s directions to the -contrary, I had secretly stowed away many little necessaries towards -housekeeping. Indeed had I not done so, we should have been as badly off -when we reached Zion as when we arrived in New York. Besides which, I -have no doubt that our waggons would have been filled with the trunks -of those very brethren who counselled us not to take more than was -absolutely necessary. The brethren who gave this counsel were, I noticed, -constantly purchasing while they advised every one else to sell, and I -thought it wiser to follow their example than their precepts. - -Among my treasures was some carpet, and when that was laid down and the -stove put up we began to feel almost at home. The wind, however, soon -drove away all thoughts of comfort, for it came whistling in through -a thousand undetected crevices, and the tallow candles which we were -obliged to burn presented a woeful spectacle. Even the most wealthy, -then, had no other light but candles, and every family had to make their -own: I have often seen people burning a little melted grease with a bit -of cotton-rag stuck in the middle for a wick—how pleasant the smell, -and how brilliant the light thus produced can be imagined. Everything -was upon the same scale—and to keep house in any fashion was really a -formidable undertaking, especially to those who had been accustomed to -the conveniences of large towns. I believe that many women consented to -their husbands taking other wives for the sake of getting some assistance -in their home duties. - -We spent nearly all the first evening in our new house in trying to -discover some means of keeping out the storm, but to little purpose. -Nearly a fortnight passed before any one came to see about repairing the -house, but as it belonged to the Church my husband seemed to think it -must be all right. The Mormon men are always very lenient towards “the -Church”—very much more so than the Mormon women, for the latter have -somehow got mixed up in their minds the idea that Brigham Young and “the -Church” are synonymous terms. I remember one day a good young sister—a -daughter of one of the twelve Apostles—saying to me, “I have just seen -the Church,” and when I asked her what she meant, she said, “I have just -met Brigham Young and Hyram Clawson, and are they not the Church?” It was -evident to me that others besides myself sometimes gave way to wicked -thoughts. Nevertheless I was still of opinion that “the Church” had -plenty of money and ought to have repaired the house. - -One day a man whom I had never seen before, called upon me and asked what -repairs I should like done. I was not feeling very well, and had been -annoyed at the delay, and I answered rather ungraciously that I should -like anything done, if it were only done at once, for I thought we had -waited long enough. He answered me very politely, and said that he would -see to it immediately. When Mr. Stenhouse returned home in the evening, -he said, “So you have had a visit from President Wells.” “No,” I said, -“there has been no one here but a carpenter—an ugly man with a cast in -his eye, and I told him that I wanted the house fixed right away.” - -“Why, that was President Wells,” he said, very much shocked, and I think -I felt as bad as he did when I realized that I had treated one of the -“First Presidency” so unceremoniously. - -This Daniel H. Wells, besides being an Apostle, a Counsellor of Brigham -Young, and one of the three “Presidents” who share with Brigham the first -position in the Church, and are associated with him in all his official -acts, was Lieutenant-General of the Nauvoo Legion, and at the present -time and for some years past Mayor of Salt Lake City. It was a shocking -indiscretion, to say the least, to speak slightingly of such a high and -mighty personage. - -The repairs, however, were seen to, and the house rendered a little more -habitable. We had now to begin the struggle of life afresh, and could -not afford to be too particular about trifles;—to obtain shelter was -something—for the rest we must still continue to hope and trust. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - -MY FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF THE CITY OF THE SAINTS. - - -When I arrived in Salt Lake City, a great many improvements had been -effected; and expecting, as I did that this would be our future home for -many years, perhaps for life, I was interested in everything that I saw. - -The first Sunday I went to the Tabernacle I was greatly amused at the -way in which some of the sisters were dressed. Quite a number wore -sun-bonnets, but the majority wore curious and diverse specimens of -the milliner’s art—relics of former days. Some wore a little tuft of -gauze and feathers on the top of the head, while others had helmets of -extraordinary size. There were little bonnets, half-grown bonnets, and -“grandmother bonnets” with steeple crowns and fronts so large that it was -difficult to get a peep at the faces which they concealed. As for the -dresses, they were as diversified as the bonnets. Some of them presented -a rather curious spectacle. I noticed two young women who sat near me: -they were dressed alike in green calico sun-bonnets, green calico skirts, -and pink calico sacks. On inquiring who they were, I was told that they -were the wives of one man, and had both been married to him on the same -day, so that neither could claim precedence of the other. Outside of -Utah such a thing would seem impossible; but so many of the young girls -at that time came out to Zion without father or mother or any one else -to guide them; and left to their own inexperience and afraid to disobey -“counsel,” it is no wonder that they soon yielded to the universal custom. - -The two young women whom I have mentioned did not appear to me to be -overburdened with intelligence; they looked like girls who could be made -to believe anything; but after that I met with two well-educated women -who, like these foolish girls, thoughtlessly tried the experiment of two -or more marrying the same man on the same day, agreeing with their “lord” -that that would be the best way to preserve peace in their household. -But they were terribly mistaken; and even before the marriage-day was -over, the poor bewildered husband had to fly to Brother Brigham for -counsel. - -The Tabernacle services seemed to me as strange as the women. There -was no regular order in conducting the proceedings, but the prominent -brethren made prayers or “sermons” as they were called upon to do so. -The “sermons” would be more properly called speeches; they are nothing -but a rambling, disconnected glorification of the Saints, interspersed -with fearful denunciations of the Gentiles, and not unfrequently a good -sprinkling of words and expressions such as are never used in decent -society. More unedifying discourses could hardly be imagined. As for the -spirituality and devotional feeling which characterized our meetings in -England, they were only conspicuous by their absence, and many devout -Saints have told me that when they first went there, before the erection -of the great organ, the free-and-easy manners of the speakers and the -brass band which was stationed in front of the platform, made them feel -as if they had come to witness a puppet-show rather than to attend a -religious meeting. - -There was one lady at the Tabernacle service whom I regarded with -considerable interest. This was no other than Eliza R. Snow, one of the -Prophet’s wives. I was told that she was the first woman married in -Polygamy after Joseph Smith received the Revelation, and I believed it -was so. People who lived in Nauvoo, respectable people, and not one or -two either, have assured me that for four years before Joseph is said to -have received the Revelation, he was practising Polygamy, or something -worse, and that the Revelation was given to justify what was already -done. However this might be, it is generally understood that Miss Eliza -Snow was the first plural wife of the Prophet. Her principal occupation -at the present time is converting rebellious wives to obedience to their -husbands, and convincing young girls that it is their duty to enter into -Polygamy. Unhappy husbands derive great consolation from her counsels. -In matters of religion she is a perfect fanatic, and in connexion with -the Female Relief Society she reigns supreme; but otherwise there are -many excellent traits in her character, and I could tell of many acts of -loving-kindness and self-denial which she has performed, and which will -surely have their reward. As the chief poet of the Mormon Church, and as -the Representative of Eve in the mysteries of the Endowment House, she -enjoys a reputation such as would be impossible to any other woman among -the Saints. - -Another of the late Joseph’s wives is a Mrs. Doctor Jacobs, who was -actually married to the Prophet while she was still living with her -original husband, Jacobs. Under the same circumstances she married -Brigham Young, after Joseph’s death. For some time her husband knew -nothing of the whole affair, but Brigham very soon gave him to understand -that his company was not wanted. The sister of Mrs. Jacobs—a Mrs. -Buel—was another of Joseph’s wives, and she married the Apostle Heber C. -Kimball, but does not appear to have made a very good bargain. - -Besides these there is another lady, a Mrs. Shearer—or, as she is -familiarly called—“Aunty Shearer.” She is in every respect a unique -specimen of womanhood, tall and angular, with cold yet eager grey eyes; a -woman of great volubility, and altogether grim-looking and strong-minded. -She was an early disciple, and is said to have sacrificed everything -for Mormonism. She lived in Joseph Smith’s family, and, of course, saw -and heard a great deal about Polygamy, and at first it was a great -stumbling-block to her. She was, however, instructed by the immaculate -Joseph, and so far managed to overcome her feelings as to be married to -him for eternity. Like the others, she is called “Mrs.,” and I suppose -there is a _Mr._ Shearer somewhere, but upon that point she is very -reticent. Her little lonely hut is fitted with innumerable curiosities -and little knick-knacks, which some people are for ever hoarding away in -the belief that they will come into use some day. She is a woman that -one could not easily forget. She wears a muslin cap with a very wide -border flapping in the wind under a comical-looking hood, and is easily -recognized by her old yellow marten-fur cape and enormous muff: her -dress, which is of her own spinning and weaving, is but just wide enough, -and its length could never inconvenience her. Add to these personal -ornaments a stout pair of brogues, and you will see before you “Aunty -Shearer,” one of the Prophet’s spiritual wives. - -I may as well explain what is meant by “spiritual” wives and “proxy” -wives. - -Marriages contracted by the Gentiles, or by Mormons in accordance with -Gentile institutions, are not considered binding by the Saints. That was -partly the cause of my indignation and the indignation of many another -wife and mother. We were told that we had never been married at all, -and that our husbands and our children were not lawfully ours: surely -that was enough to excite the indignation of any wife, whatever her -faith might be. For a marriage to be valid it must be solemnized in the -Endowment House in Salt Lake City, or the persons contracting it can -never expect to be husband and wife in eternity. Should the husband die -before he reaches Zion, and if the wife loves him sufficiently well -to wish to be his in eternity—when she arrives in Salt Lake City, if -she receives an offer of marriage from one of the brethren, and does -not object to him as a second husband in this world, she will make an -agreement with him that she will be his wife, _for time_, but that in -eternity she and all her children shall be handed over to the first -husband. A woman thus married is called a “proxy” wife. - -Now “spiritual” wives are of two classes. The one consists of old ladies -who have plenty of money or property which of course needs looking after; -and generous Elders marry them, and accordingly “look after” the said -property, and the owner of it becomes the Elder’s _spiritual_ wife. She -will only be his _real_ wife in eternity when she is rejuvenated. - -The other kind of “spiritual” wife is one who is married already, but who -does not think that her husband can “exalt” her to so high a position in -the celestial world as she deserves—perhaps some kind brother who takes -a great interest in her welfare has told her so—she then is _secretly_ -“_sealed_” to one of the brethren who is better able to exalt her—perhaps -to this same brother; and in the resurrection she will pass from him who -was her husband on earth to him who is to be her husband in heaven—_if -she has not done so before_. - -This is what is meant by “proxy” and “spiritual” wives. I think it will -be evident even to the dullest comprehension that under such a system, -“the world, the flesh, and the devil” are far more likely to play a -prominent part than anything heavenly or spiritual. - -All this is so repugnant to the instincts and feelings of a true woman, -that I feel quite ashamed to write about it. And yet the working out -of this system has produced results which would be perfectly grotesque -were it not that they outrage every ordinary sense of propriety. Let -me give an example. One of the wives of Brigham Young—Mrs. Augustus -Cobb Young—a highly educated and intelligent Boston lady with whom I am -intimately acquainted, requested of her Prophet husband a favour of a -most extraordinary description. She had forsaken her lawful husband and -family and a happy and luxurious home to join the Saints, under the -impression that Brigham Young would make her his queen in heaven. She was -a handsome woman—a woman of many gifts and graces—and Brigham thoroughly -appreciated her; but she made a slight miscalculation in respect to the -Prophet. He cares little enough for his first wife, poor lady, and few -people who know him doubt for a moment that he would un-queen her and -cut her adrift for time and eternity too, if his avaricious soul saw the -slightest prospect of gain by doing so; he did not care for her, but he -never would allow himself to be dictated to by any woman. So when the -lady of whom I speak asked him to place her at the head of his household, -he refused: she begged hard, but he would not relent. Then finding -that she could not be Brigham’s “queen,” and having been taught by the -highest Mormon authorities that our Saviour had, and has, many wives, she -requested to be “sealed to Him!” Brigham Young told her (for what reason -I do not know) that it really was out of his power to do that, but that -he would do “the next best thing” for her—he would “seal” her to Joseph -Smith. She was sealed to Joseph Smith, and though Brigham still supports -her, and she is called by his name on earth, in the resurrection she will -leave him and go over to the original Prophet. - -The reader will be certainly shocked at this terrible burlesque of sacred -things, but I felt it my duty to state the truth and place facts in their -right light. It is not generally known that the Mormons are taught that -the marriage at Cana of Galilee was Christ’s own nuptial feast, that Mary -and Martha were his plural wives, and that those women who in various -parts of the New Testament are spoken of as ministering to him stood to -him in the same relation. - -Malicious first wives, especially if they are rather elderly themselves, -frequently call the proxy wives “fixins;” and the tone in which some -of them utter the word is in the last degree contemptuous. These poor -“fixins” are seldom treated as real wives by the husband himself. He may -think sufficiently well of the “proxy” wife to make her his for time -and to raise up children to his friend, as the Elders say, but he never -forgets that in eternity she will be handed over to the man for whom he -has stood proxy, and he expects that she also will bear that in mind, -and do all she can for her own support, and never complain of his want -of attention to her. Some men, after having married a young proxy wife, -have become so enamoured that they grew jealous of the dead husband, and -have tried to get the wife to break faith with him, and be married to -them for eternity as well as time. This was certainly rather mean. Very -few Gentile husbands would fret themselves about possibilities in the -world to come, if in this world they had the certainty of enjoying the -undivided affections of their wives. - -Mormon husbands are so influenced by their religion that they neither -act nor think like other men. I am thinking of one wretched family that -I knew soon after I went to Utah. There was a man and his wife and four -children, all living together in a miserable, poverty-stricken hut. I had -heard that the man was paying attentions to a young girl with a view of -making her his second wife, and I frequently watched the first wife as -she went in and out, doing her “chores,” and wondered how she felt about -it. The poverty of the man, of course, was of no consequence; living -in the primitive style in which necessity then compelled the Saints to -live, one, or even half-a-dozen extra wives made very little difference, -and Brigham and the leading Elders have always represented it as a -meritorious act, for the young especially, to “build up the kingdom,” -without regard to consequences, or the misery of bringing up a family in -a destitute condition. I never can see children without loving them, and -in this case it was not long before I contrived to make acquaintance with -the little ones. One day, while I was talking to them, the mother came -out. She seemed pleased to see me, for she had heard of me that I was not -too strong in the faith, and she told me that her husband had said, in -speaking of such women as myself, who did not like the celestial order -of marriage, that their husbands ought to force them right into it, and -that would show what they were made of: if they were true-hearted women, -seeking their husband’s glory and “exaltation” in the world to come, -they would bear it well enough; and if not, the sooner it killed them -the better; for if they were dead their husbands could save them in the -resurrection, but if they lived they would only be an incumbrance. - -This, I found, was the general opinion among the Mormon men. Even in -England the American Elders had taught us that the man was the head and -“saviour” of the woman, and that the woman was only responsible to her -husband. It was necessary, we were told, that the woman should keep in -favour with her lord, otherwise he might withdraw his protection and -refuse to take her into the celestial kingdom; in which case when she got -to heaven she would only be an angel! To be an angel is not considered -by the Saints to be by any means the highest state of glory. Those who -do not obey the “Celestial Order of Marriage” will, like the angels, -neither marry nor be given in marriage; they will be located, the men in -one place, and the women in another, and will serve as slaves, lackeys, -and boot-blacks to the Saints. Brigham Young once publicly said of a -certain President of the United States, that he would clean the boots -of the Mormon leaders in heaven. He did not say this as a figure of -speech, but meant it literally. Those who have obeyed the Gospel of the -new dispensation, but who have failed to enter into Polygamy, will be as -upper servants; but the rebellious—the “vile apostates” and the “wicked -Gentiles”—will join the angels and do all the drudgery for the men of -many wives. Thus I learned in Zion that my youthful notions about the -glory of the cherubim were quite a mistake, and that it was not such a -fine thing to be an angel after all. - -But I have run away from my story, and had almost forgotten my poor -acquaintance. She was a woman who was likely to preserve a painful place -in the memory of any one who once saw her. Her face was pale as death, -and her jet-black eyes glistened with an unearthly lustre; it was easy to -perceive that she was very unhappy, although she tried hard to exhibit a -cheerful disposition, and when our conversation turned to that subject -which to women here is all-absorbing, the nervous twitching of her pale -face showed how deeply painful such thoughts were to her. She told me -that her husband was soon to be married to a young girl about fourteen -years of age. “Do you see,” she said, “that he is building for her?” And -sure enough he was, at odd hours, adding another hut to the miserable -hovel in which they already lived; and thither, when it was finished, he -intended to take his bride. As I looked at the poor wife, I felt little -doubt that ere that time came, her troubles on earth would have ended, -and her little ones would be motherless. - -The Mormon women, as well as the Mormon men, are noted for attending to -their own business—they do not care to tell their sorrows and trials -to strangers or to people who are not of their own faith. In this -way visitors to Salt Lake who have gone there with the intention of -“writing-up” the Saints in the newspapers or in a book, have generally -been misled. My own experience as a Mormon woman leads me to form -anything but a flattering opinion of the Mormon stories told by Gentile -pens. The following instance will show that the sisters are not quite so -free in giving their experience as some writers would suggest. - -One day, while passing through the city, I saw a young woman running -across the road with a little child in her arms. The child was crying -piteously, for the water was running from its clothing, and I saw in -a moment that it had fallen into the stream which ran in front of -the house. I followed, to see if I could be of any assistance, but -fortunately found that the little creature was not seriously hurt, but -would soon recover from the fright and cold. I helped the mother to -change its clothing, and while she was lulling her baby to sleep we -entered into conversation. At first she appeared to be very shy of me, -and avoided speaking of anything in the slightest degree personal; but -growing more interested, she said at last,— - -“Are you a Mormon?” - -“Certainly,” I answered; “but why do you ask me?” - -“Because,” she said, “we have had one or two Gentile women among us, and -they go round among our people and question the women, and get them to -tell their troubles, which God knows are heavy enough; and then they go -and write about it, and Brigham Young finds it out, and their husbands -are called to account for allowing their wives to speak to the Gentiles. -You are sure you are a Mormon?” she added, “and you are not deceiving me?” - -“I’m sorry you should think such a thing,” I said; “but if you suppose I -would deceive you, I will not trouble you with my company.” And I rose up -to leave. - -“Do not go yet,” she said, “and pray forgive me, if I have wounded your -feelings; it is simply the fear I have of getting into trouble. Brigham -Young and the Elders have frequently told us to have nothing to do with -the Gentiles, for they are enemies to the kingdom of God, and are seeking -our overthrow—and I suppose it is true.” - -“How long have you been here?” I asked. - -“Over two years,” she replied, “and it seems almost twenty—time has -passed so slowly. I left father and mother, sisters and brother, for the -Gospel’s sake, and I do not regret it, because it is right; but it was a -very great sacrifice to make. Yet I believe that God blesses us for the -sacrifices we make, and I shall get my reward.” - -“You have it already,” I said, “in that pretty child on your knee; and -your husband, I hope, is a good man and kind to you.” - -“Yes,” she answered, “my child is a very great source of happiness to -me, and I love my husband very much, but—” (hesitatingly) “are _you_ in -Polygamy?” - -“No, not yet; but I do not know how soon my husband may take it into his -head to get another wife.” - -“Are you first wife?” she asked. - -“Yes,” I replied, “and I suppose you are also?” - -“No, I am third wife,” she said, “I wish I were first wife.” - -“But why,” I suggested, “do you wish that? If Polygamy is the true order -of marriage, I do not see that it makes much difference whether one is -the first or the twentieth wife?” - -“Oh dear, yes,” she replied, “it _does_ make a great deal of difference; -for the first wife will be queen over all the others, and reign with her -husband. If I had known that before I was married, I should have made my -husband promise to place me first. Men can do that if they like.” - -“But do you think you would be doing right in trying to gain the position -of first wife in that way?” - -“Why not?” she said; “didn’t Jacob obtain his brother’s birthright by -deception—and was he ever punished for it? Do you think that Brother -Brigham, notwithstanding that he is the inspired servant of God, could -have obtained his position, and all his money, by simple honest dealing? -If you think so, I don’t; and it is just as proper and right for us women -to secure a position for ourselves by such means as it is for Brigham -Young—the end justifies the means.” - -“If that is so,” I said, “it is a wonder to me that any woman should -consent to become second, third, or fourth wife—seeing they cannot be -queens.” - -“I can see that you have not yet had your ‘Endowments,’” she said, “or -you would understand more about these things; but as you are a good -Mormon, I can speak freely to you. You see it is not always those who are -first wives in this world who will be first in the celestial kingdom. It -all depends upon the amount of sacrifice the wife is capable of making -for her husband, her faithfulness to him, and the number of children -she has borne him. If she pleases him in every particular, and is good, -patient, and above all things obedient to all his wishes and commands, -then she is almost certain to be made queen, unless the first wife is -just as good, and then I don’t know how they would fix that. And so you -see it is safer to be first wife at once.” - -“Well, but,” I asked, “knowing all this, I am surprised that you -consented to be third wife!” - -“But I did not know it then,” she continued. “My husband told me that -_all_ the wives were queens—all equal—and he says so still when I talk -to him about it. But he can’t deceive me. I have spoken to some of the -old Nauvoo women who know all about it, and they tell me that all the -Polygamic wives will be subject to the first wife; but the first wife, -having suffered most, will be the one who has gone through the fire and -been purified, and found worthy.” - -“But do you think that your husband would wish to deceive you about such -an important matter?” I said. - -“Wait till you have lived a little longer here,” she replied, “and you -will be able to answer that question yourself, or else your experience -will be very different from that of the rest of the people here.” - -Just then the husband made his appearance, and put an end to the -conversation. He was a tall, dark-looking man, with grey hair, old enough -to be her father. He appeared to be well educated and to have seen -better days, though everything about their home indicated poverty—the -room in which we were sitting had no carpet on the floor, there was a -plain white-pine table in the middle, a small sheet-iron stove, four -wooden chairs, a small looking-glass, and some cheap pictures. This was -the sitting-room for the whole family—three wives, eleven children, one -husband. He asked me if I had seen the rest of the family. - -I replied negatively, and he said he would see if any of them were -about. Presently he returned accompanied by an elderly woman whom he -introduced as Mrs. Simpson. Then came another, not quite as good-looking -as the first, but a great deal younger, and he introduced her as “My -wife Ellen. And this one,” he said, turning to the one with whom I had -been conversing, “is my wife Sarah. Don’t you think I have got three -fine-looking women?” Then, after a pause, he added, “And they are just -as good as they are good-looking—good, obedient wives. I have no trouble -with them; my wishes are law in this house. Here you have a family in -which the Spirit of God reigns. We are not rich in worldly goods, as you -see, but we are laying up treasure in heaven. We all live in this little -home of four rooms. My wife Ellen here, has given up her room for a -parlour for us all to meet together in, and she sleeps in a waggon-box; -it is not the most comfortable, but she never grumbles. Then, here is -our Sarah; we are obliged to humour her a little, and give her a room -all to herself. She is young and inexperienced, and doesn’t like to put -up with the inconveniences that the Saints have to bear with; while old -mother here has got to have half-a-dozen children in her room, but she -never complains.” - -“Why did you not wait,” I said, “until you had a larger house?” - -“Then where would my kingdom be?” he answered, “Young men may wait, but -old men must improve their time.” - -There came in now a troop of children of all ages. They had been playing -in the lot, were miserably clad, barefooted, and some looked gaunt -and hungry:—manners to match. “These,” he said, with all a father’s -fondness—“these constitute my kingdom, and I am proud of them.” - -I felt thankful that I was not destined to be queen over such a kingdom, -wished them good-bye, and with a sad heart went home to my own darling -little ones, not knowing what might be _their_ fate. - -[Illustration: Brigham Young] - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - -BRIGHAM YOUNG AT HOME:—WE VISIT THE PROPHET AND HIS WIVES. - - -Shortly after our arrival in Salt Lake City we visited President Young, -who received us very graciously and appointed an early day for us to dine -with him. - -On that occasion he invited some of the Apostles and leading men to meet -us at his table, and we passed an exceedingly pleasant evening. The -Prophet made himself very affable; talked with us about our missionary -life and other subjects of personal and general interest; and expressed -a high opinion of the energy and ability which my husband had displayed. -His wives, too,—whom I found, as far as I could judge from such a casual -acquaintance, to be amiable and kind-hearted ladies,—made every effort to -render our visit agreeable. - -I was much pleased with the manner and appearance of Brigham Young, and -felt greatly reassured; for he did not seem to me like a man who would -preach and practise such things as I had heard of him while I was in -London. This I was glad to see, for it encouraged me to think that, -perhaps, after all, matters might not be so bad as I had anticipated. -We were, in fact, very kindly received in Salt Lake City by every one -with whom we came in contact; for having been Missionaries for so many -years, we were, of course, well known by name, and had a wide circle of -acquaintances among the chief Elders and emigrants. - -Fifteen years have, of course, worked a great change in the appearance of -Brigham Young; but though he is now nearly seventy-three years of age, he -is still a portly-looking—I might almost say handsome man. His good looks -are not of the poetic or romantic kind at all; he is very common-place -and practical in his appearance, but long and habitual exercise of -despotic authority has stamped itself upon his features, and is seen -even in the way he carries himself: he might without any stretch of the -imagination be mistaken for a retired sea-captain. - -When I first knew him, in appearance he was little over fifty years of -age, was of medium height, well built, upright, and, as I just stated, -had the air of one accustomed to be obeyed. His hair was light,—sandy, -I suppose I ought to call it,—with eyes to match; and the expression -of his countenance was pleasant and manly. I, of course, regarded him -from a woman’s stand-point; but there were others who were accustomed to -study physiognomy, and they detected—or thought they detected—in the cold -expression of his eye and the stern, hard lines of his lips, evidences of -cruelty, selfishness, and dogged determination which, it is only fair to -say, I myself never saw. - -The lines on his face have deepened of late years, as what little of -gentleness his heart ever knew has died out within him; but still he -presents the appearance of a man who would afford a deep study to the -observer of human nature. In early life he had to work hard for a living, -and according to his own statement he had a rough time of it. He was, by -trade, a painter and glazier, and has frequently said in public that in -those times he was glad to work for “six bits” a day, and to keep his -hands busy from morning to night to get even that. Whether or not the -privations of early years fostered in him that avaricious and grasping -spirit which of late years has been so conspicuous in him, I cannot say, -but it is certain that it cropped out very early in his career as a -Saint. An old Nauvoo Missionary,—a Mormon of the Mormons once, but now, -alas! a “vile apostate” as Brigham would politely call him,—once told me -that when the Prophet Joseph Smith sent the Apostle Young on Mission, a -good deal of discontent was shown that the said Apostle did not account -properly for the collections and tithings which passed through his hands. -Brother Joseph who was _then_ “the Church” suggested in a pleasant -way—for the Prophet Smith was a big, jovial fellow, six feet two or three -inches in height, and withal somewhat of a humorist—that the said Apostle -Brigham would appear in his eyes a better Saint if he displayed a little -less love for filthy lucre. Thereupon the Apostle, like somebody else who -shall be nameless, quoted Scripture, and reminded the Prophet that Moses -had said, “Thou shalt not muzzle the mouth of the ox that treadeth out -the corn.” “True, Brother Brigham,” said Joseph, “but Moses did not say -the ox was to eat up _all_ the corn.” Brother Brigham made no reply, but -is said to have “sulked” for two or three days. - -I have often heard intelligent Gentiles remark, “Well, Brigham Young may -be a wicked man and an impostor, but there _must_ be a great deal of -talent in him, to manage those people for so many years.” - -From this opinion I altogether dissent; and those who know Brigham best, -think with me, though many of them would not dare to say so. I do not -think Brigham Young a wicked man or an impostor in the sense in which -those words are ordinarily used; but experience, and a careful study of -his life and doings, have convinced me that he is certainly not a great -man or a man of genius in _any_ sense of the word. There can be no doubt -that he has been guilty of many and great crimes, but I believe that in -the early part of his career he was so blinded by fanaticism that those -crimes appeared to him actually virtues:—the force of habit and the daily -associations of his life have so completely taken from him all sense of -right and wrong; while the devotion of his people has made the idea that -_he_ could possibly do the slightest wrong so utterly inconceivable to -him and to them, that his perceptions of justice, truth, honour, honesty, -and upright dealing are as utterly stultified as they ever were in the -mind of the wildest savage who prowled among the cliffs and cañons of the -Rocky Mountains. - -People think that Brigham Young attained to his present position by the -exercise of ability, such as has been displayed, only on a greater scale, -by all those men who, not being born to power, nor having it thrust upon -them, have by the force of their genius seized it and held it—unlawfully -it might be, but, nevertheless, with talent and moral energy. - -Of the Prophet’s moral character, the less said the better. He has been -remorseless and cruel in his enmities, and he has connived at and even -suggested, if nothing more, some of the most atrocious crimes that have -ever been perpetrated on the face of the earth. In business matters, -in the payment of money—to use a popular phrase—his word is as good as -his bond, but in the accumulation of wealth he has evinced an amount -of dishonesty which can scarcely be credited. Brigham always meets his -obligations, and pays his debts, and gets a lawful receipt:—the prophetic -business could not otherwise be carried on; but the way in which he has -obtained his wealth would put to the blush the most dishonest member -of any “ring” in New York, or elsewhere. When he attended his first -Conference, he says he had to borrow certain masculine garments and a -pair of boots before he could put in an appearance. Now it would be -difficult to estimate the value of his property. He has taken up large -tracts of land all over the Territory, he has the uncontrolled and -unquestioned command of all the tithing and contributions of the Saints, -and from gifts and confiscations, and innumerable other sources, his -revenue pours in. It was once rumoured that he had eighteen or twenty -millions of dollars in the Bank of England; but Brigham said that the -report was not true. “The Church,” he added, had a little money invested -abroad. The difference between “The Church” and the individual Brigham -Young has yet to be determined. - -In the year 1852 the “Prophet of the Lord” found that he had borrowed an -inconveniently large sum from the funds of the Church. He is “Trustee -in Trust” and, of course, legally responsible; but he never renders an -account of his stewardship, and no one ever asks him for it. His sense -of honesty was, however, so strong that he resolved to have his account -balanced, and he went down to the Tithing-Office for that purpose. -There he found that his indebtedness amounted to two hundred thousand -dollars, and he proceeded to pay it after his own fashion: the clerk -was instructed to place to his credit the same amount “_for services -rendered_.” In 1867, he owed _very nearly one million dollars_, which he -had borrowed from the same fund, and he balanced his account in the same -way. His contract for the Pacific Railroad is said to have yielded him a -quarter of a million, and his other contracts and mining speculations, -purchases _and thefts_ of lands, houses, &c., have been very profitable. -The expenses of such a family as Brother Brigham’s must be something -enormous, but the contributions which by honest and dishonest means he -has levied have been so large that he must still be one of the wealthiest -men in the States. - -Brigham is not a generous man. He has given occasionally, as for instance -at the time of the Chicago fire, when he presented a thousand dollars -for the sufferers, but even then his motive was evident—the affairs of -“Deseret” were under discussion in Congress. Without the certainty of a -profitable return, Brigham never gave a cent. The story of his sordid -avarice and his contemptible meanness in the accumulation of money would -fill a volume. - -Morally and physically the Prophet is a great coward. When he and other -Church leaders were arrested a year or two ago, charged with the very -gravest crimes, the effect upon the Prophet was most distressing. He -had solemnly sworn in the Tabernacle that he would shoot the man who -attempted to arrest him; but when Judge McKean opened court and placed -him under arrest, he swallowed his threats and played the coward’s part. -Before this the world has seen wretches who were notorious for their -cruelty and tyranny, and who were also remarkable for their cowardice. -For many years he has imitated royalty and has had a strong body-guard to -keep watch and ward around his person every night. No man has less cause -to apprehend personal violence than Brother Brigham, but the voice of -conscience, which, as the poet says, makes cowards of us all, suggests -his fears. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - -THE WIVES OF BRIGHAM YOUNG:—THEIR HISTORY AND THEIR DAILY LIFE. - - -The wives of Brigham Young have always been subjects of interest to -Gentiles who visited Zion; and having spoken of their husband, I think it -is only fair that I should say a few words about them. - -For many years I have known personally all the Prophet’s wives who reside -in Salt Lake City, and I wish to speak of them with kindness and respect. -They are women whom any one would esteem—conscientious, good, earnest -women; faithful, true-hearted wives, who have devoted their lives to the -carrying out of what they believe is the revealed will of God. - -When I first knew Brother Brigham, poor man, he had _only_ sixteen living -with him in Salt Lake City; and even now he has no more than nineteen! -Perhaps I ought to say eighteen, since Eliza-Ann has run away from him, -and left the poor old gentleman desolate and forlorn. The three whom he -took after I came to Utah, were Amelia Folsom, Mary Van Cott Cobb, and -Eliza-Ann. But the reader will perhaps be interested in hearing about -them all, and so I will state the names and order of the ladies as they -at present stand—according to the date of their marriage; making mention -of the proxy wives last of all, for the sake of convenience and without -reference to date. Of course Brother Brigham has _had_ many more than -nineteen wives, but the following are the living ladies; others are dead -or have strayed away, no one knew whither, and perhaps, as Brother Heber -once said to me, nobody cared. - -[Illustration: AMELIA FOLSOM YOUNG, BRIGHAM’S FAVORITE WIFE. - -“ELIZA ANN,” BRIGHAM’S NINETEENTH WIFE. - -BROTHER BRIGHAM’S LAST BABY. - -MISS ELIZA R. SNOW, MORMON POETESS AND HIGH PRIESTESS. - -MRS. JOHN W. YOUNG, WIFE OF BRIGHAM’S APOSTATE SON. - -_To face p. 168._] - -Allow me to introduce _the_ Mrs. Young. - - -MRS. MARY ANN ANGELL YOUNG. - -[Number One.] - -First in order is Mrs. Mary Ann Angell Young, but she is not the first -wife that Brother Brigham ever had. Once upon a time, Brother Brigham -was a Methodist; but after listening to the preaching of the Mormon -Missionaries he became a vile apostate—as he loves to call those who -leave his present faith—and he forsook Methodism. In those days, before -he apostatised, and long before he ever dreamed of Polygamy, he had but -_one_ wife—one only! It must seem strange to the Prophet to look back -to that period of solitary existence. His second wife was Mrs. Angell -Young; and I call her his first wife because she is the first of those -living now. As she was married to him after the death of his first wife, -she is, of course, his legal wife, and would be recognized as such in -any civilized country. She is a very fine-looking old lady and very much -devoted to her unfaithful lord and master, firmly believing in his divine -mission. She lives by herself and is seldom troubled with a visit from -her affectionate spouse. Once in a while Brigham brings her out to a -party when he has invited any Gentiles, just for appearance sake. Quite -a number of persons in Utah believe that she is dead, so very little -is seen and known of her. She lives in the White House—Brigham’s first -residence in Salt Lake City—and is much thought of by those who do know -her. Her children are greatly attached to her, and show her a great -deal of attention, making up in this way, to a certain extent, for her -husband’s neglect; her three sons, Joseph A. Brigham—who it is expected -will succeed his father as President of the Church—and John W., as well -as her two daughters, Alice and Luna, are all in Polygamy. Each of the -sons has three wives; and each of the daughters has a half-sister as -a partner in her husband’s affections. Brigham has not the slightest -objection to giving two of his daughters to the same husband. - - -LUCY DECKER SEELY YOUNG. - -[Number Two.] - -Lucy Decker Seely Young was his first wife in Polygamy. Her former -husband was a Mr. Seely. She is short and stout, a very excellent mother -and a devoted wife. - - -CLARA DECKER YOUNG. - -[Number Three.] - -Clara Decker Young is the third wife. She is a sister of Lucy Seely, and -like her is short and stout, but otherwise good-looking. She is more -than twenty years younger than her lord, with whom she was once quite a -favourite, but like many others, she has “had her day”—to use Brigham’s -own expression—and is now, as a matter of course, neglected. - - -HARRIET COOK YOUNG. - -[Number Four.] - -Harriet Cook Young is tall, with light hair and blue eyes, and is an -intelligent but not at all a refined woman. She is said to have given a -great deal of trouble to Brother Brigham, of whom she has frequently said -very hard things. In times past she had the reputation of being a good -deal more than a match for her husband when she had any cause of offence -against him, but in her quiet moments she is a very sincere Mormon. She -has only one son—Oscar Young—now about twenty-five years of age. When -he was born, Brigham kindly announced to her that because she was not -obedient she should have no more children, and during more than a quarter -of a century he has kept his word. Why she has remained with him so long -is a mystery, for she makes no secret of her feelings towards him. - - -LUCY BIGELOW YOUNG. - -[Number Five.] - -Lucy Bigelow Young is quite a fine-looking woman—tall and fair, and still -quite young. She has three pretty daughters. Brigham has recently sent -her to live in southern Utah. - - -MRS. TWISS YOUNG. - -[Number Six.] - -Mrs. Twiss Young has no children, but she is a very good housewife, and -Brigham appreciates her accordingly, and has given her the position of -housekeeper in the Lion House. Women have two great privileges in the -Mormon Church—they may ask a man to marry them, if they chance to fancy -him, and if they don’t like him afterwards they are able to obtain a -divorce for the moderate sum of ten dollars, which sum the husband is -expected to pay. Mrs. Twiss exercised the first privilege in reference -to Brother Brigham, but has not yet availed herself of the last. There -are other ladies who thought it would be a great honour to be called the -wives of the Prophet, and they have requested him to allow them to be -called by his name. This he has done, but he has never troubled them with -his society. - - -MARTHA BOWKER YOUNG. - -[Number Seven.] - -Martha Bowker Young is a quiet little body, with piercing dark eyes, -and very retiring. Brother Brigham acts towards her as if he had quite -forgotten that he had ever married her, and she lives in all the -loneliness of married spinsterhood. - - -HARRIET BARNEY SEAGERS YOUNG. - -[Number Eight.] - -Harriet Barney Seagers Young, the eighth wife, is a tall, fine-looking -woman. She was another man’s wife when Brigham made love to her. It is -not supposed to be the correct thing for a Saint to court his neighbour’s -wife, but the Prophet did so in the case of Harriet Barney, and in -several other cases too. Harriet was married to a respectable young -Mormon gentleman, but after she had lived with him some time and had -borne three children to him, the Prophet persuaded her to join his ranks, -and she did so, believing that the word of the Prophet was the revelation -of the Lord to her, but she has since had bitter cause to repent of her -folly. To a Gentile mind such an infatuation must appear very strange, -but the Mormon people personally understand the powerful influence which -their religion exercises over them, and to them there is nothing very -singular in all this. - - -ELIZA BURGESS YOUNG. - -[Number Nine.] - -Eliza Burgess Young is the only English wife that Brigham has. She fell -in love with the Prophet, wanted him to marry her, and even offered to -wait, like Jacob, for seven years if she might be his at last. So she -served in the family of her lord for the appointed time, and he finally -took her to wife as a recompense for her faithfulness. She has added one -son to the Prophet’s kingdom. - - -SUSAN SNIVELY YOUNG. - -[Number Ten.] - -The tenth wife on my list is Susan Snively Young. She is a German -woman—smart, active, and industrious. She has no children, but has been -quite a help-meet to her husband in making butter and cheese, in which -she excels. Smart Mormons have always had an eye to business, and while -living up to their privileges have not invariably sought for wives who -were only fair and pleasant to look upon, but have frequently taken them -for their own intrinsic worth: one as a good dairymaid, another as a -good cook, a third as a good laundress, and a fourth as a lady to grace -the parlour—perhaps even two or three of this last kind, if the Saint -were wealthy. There is a good deal of practical wisdom in this. Brother -Brigham has gathered of all sorts into his net, and has then sorted them -out, placing each lady in the position where he considered she would be -most useful and profitable to himself. - - -MARGARET PIERCE YOUNG. - -[Number Eleven.] - -Margaret Pierce Young is very lady-like, tall, and genteel. She has the -appearance of being very unhappy, and it is certain that she has been -very much neglected, but not more so than many of the other wives. She -has one son. - - -EMMELINE FREE YOUNG. - -[Number Twelve.] - -When first I went to Utah, Emmeline Free Young was the reigning -favourite, and she was really the handsomest of Brigham’s wives—tall and -graceful, with curling hair, beautiful eyes, and fair complexion. Brigham -was as fond of her, at the time, as a man of his nature, with such a low -estimate of woman, could be. But a younger, though not a handsomer, rival -soon captivated his fickle heart, and he left poor Emmeline to mourn in -sorrow. She has never been herself since then, and probably never will -be—she is a broken-hearted woman. She is the mother of quite a numerous -family, and doubtless, as she had been the favourite for so long a time, -she had come to believe that her husband would never seek another love. -But, if this was so, she sadly miscalculated Brigham, for when his -licentious fancy was attracted to another object of affection he cast off -Emmeline as ruthlessly as he would an old garment. What decent person -could refrain from loathing such a man! How often has my heart gone out -in sympathy towards that poor, wrecked woman whom he had forsaken; what a -pity I deemed it that so much love should be wasted upon a creature who -could never understand or appreciate it. And yet Emmeline’s fate has been -no worse than that of the others; but I was more with her, and saw how -keenly she suffered, and I sympathized with her when her sorrows brought -her nearly to the point of death. - - -AMELIA FOLSOM YOUNG. - -[Number Thirteen.] - -Amelia Folsom Young is now the favourite, and it is supposed that she -will continue to be so, for at last poor Brother Brigham has found a -woman of whom he stands in dread. It is doubtful whether he loves her, -but nobody in Zion doubts that he fears her. It is said that the Prophet -has confided so many of his secrets to Amelia that he is obliged to -submit to her tyranny, for fear of her leaving him, and exposing some of -his little ways which would not bear the light. Be that as it may, it is -generally believed that after all his matrimonial alliances he has at -last found his _master_ in the person of Amelia. Even good Saints—friends -of the Prophet—secretly enjoy the idea of him being at last brought under -petticoat government, for it is believed that Brigham used unfair means -to obtain her, and that at last he only gained his object by deluding -her into the belief that the Lord had revealed to him that it was her -duty to become his wife. One thing is very certain—he was as crazy over -her as a silly boy over his first love, much to the disgust of his more -sober brethren, who felt rather ashamed of the folly of their leader. At -the theatre a seat was reserved for her at his side, and in the ball-room -the same special attention was shown to her. He would open the ball, and, -after dancing with each of his other wives who might be present—simply -for appearance sake—the remainder of the evening was devoted to her. For -all that, his inconstant heart could not remain faithful to her, and old -habits and feelings, to all appearance, have come over him again, and he -has gone astray. - -Julia Dean, the actress, was the first to draw him from Amelia’s side, -and it would have been a sorry day for Amelia if Julia had favoured the -Prophet’s suit. Then the charms of Mary Van Cott touched his sensitive -heart, to say nothing of Eliza-Ann, his last but yet not his best-beloved. - -With all this experience, and the constant evidences of the fickleness -of Brother Brigham’s heart before her eyes, there is no wonder that poor -Amelia feels compelled to hold tight the reins, now that they are in -her own hands, for, if it is not much to be known as Brigham’s wife, it -is a great deal to be known as his favourite. As for the future, it is -whispered that Brother Brigham has lately been “setting his house in -order,” and in the ordinary course of nature, Amelia is almost certain -to outlive for many years her aged lord, she, therefore, can afford to -wait for the good time coming. But Amelia knows that she would sink into -oblivion if he were to cast her off for another before his death. - - -MARY VAN COTT COBB YOUNG. - -[Number Fourteen.] - -Mary Van Cott Cobb—who became Brigham’s wife after his marriage to -Amelia—is a very handsome woman, about twenty-eight years of age. She -is tall, slender, and graceful, and has been married to the Prophet -about six years. At first he appeared to be very devoted to her, but -Amelia soon put a stop to that. Nevertheless, she has since her marriage -presented a little daughter to her lord, greatly to the annoyance of -Amelia, who has no children. She is said to be very unhappy, and though -Brigham has provided her with a fine house and every comfort, yet she -seldom sees him—not perhaps more than once in three months, or so—though -it is generally believed that his spirit is willing, but Amelia won’t -allow it. - - -ELIZA-ANN WEBB DEE YOUNG. - -[Number Fifteen.] - -Eliza-Ann Webb Dee Young, commonly known as his “runaway wife,” is his -last wedded and nineteenth living wife. If his deceased wives were taken -into consideration she would probably be his thirtieth. In this list I -have put all the living wives who are sealed to Brigham for eternity -first, and thus I count Eliza-Ann fifteen, but had I placed the proxy -wives—who are only Brigham’s “for time,” in the list, she would, of -course, be the “nineteenth,” as she is generally called. - - -“MISS” ELIZA R. SNOW. - -[Number Sixteen.] - -“Miss” Eliza R. Snow I mention here as I have not followed the order of -date. She and the three ladies whose names I shall presently give, are -the proxy wives of Brigham, living with him. - - -ZINA D. HUNTINGTON JACOBS YOUNG. - -[Number Seventeen.] - -Zina D. Huntington Jacobs Young is another proxy wife, and a widow of -the Prophet Joseph. She, too, will have to be handed over in the day of -reckoning. She has one grown up daughter, of whom I shall presently speak -under rather interesting circumstances. - - -EMILY PARTRIDGE YOUNG. - -[Number Eighteen.] - -Emily Partridge Young is a tall, dark-eyed, handsome woman, and she also -is a “proxy” wife—a relict of Joseph. When Joseph died, Brigham told his -wives that they were at liberty to choose whom they would for husbands; -and some of them showed their appreciation of his generosity by choosing -him himself. Thus it was that Emily Partridge became Brigham’s wife. The -Prophet has dealt kindly to his brother Joseph Smith, through her, for -she has quite a family of children to be handed over with her. She was -young and handsome when the Prophet died, but perhaps it would be wrong -to suppose that that had anything to do with Brigham’s generosity to his -brother, for it is generally believed that he took all those wives of -Joseph, from pure principle. - - -AUGUSTA COBB YOUNG. - -[Number Nineteen.] - -Augusta Cobb Young is a very fine-looking woman, and must have been quite -handsome in her youthful days. As I before stated, she formerly lived in -Boston, but hearing Brigham preach, she fell in love with him, abandoned -her home, children, and husband, and, taking her youngest child with her, -went to Salt Lake City, and was married to the Prophet. It was she who, -when Brigham began to neglect her, wanted to be sealed to Christ, but was -ultimately added to the kingdom of Joseph Smith. - -Now these are the Prophet’s wives—his real, living wives—nineteen in -all. How many spiritual wives he has had it would be impossible to say. -Probably he himself does not know their number. - -In his habits and mode of living, Brigham Young is very simple, or at -least was so until recently. When I first knew him he dressed in plain, -home-spun, home-made, and every article about his person and his houses -was as plain and unostentatious as could possibly be. But the importation -of Gentiles and Gentile goods, since the opening of the railway, has -worked a great change. His wives, who once carried simplicity of dress -almost to the verge of dowdyism, have now acquired a taste for Eastern -fashions. - -The Prophet’s first home in Utah was a little cottage which is now known -as the White House.—The same house, I believe, which was valued at sixty -thousand dollars, and which Brother Tenant supposed he bought:—a more -scandalous and barefaced robbery never was perpetrated. - -This is on the hill-side, north of the Eagle Gate, and is now the -residence of his first wife, Mrs. Angell Young. The Bee-Hive House is the -official residence of Brother Brigham. There he used to reign supreme as -“Governor” Young; and thence he now issues secular and ecclesiastical -edicts to all who acknowledge his sway. There is one lady resident in -this house—Mrs. Lucy Decker Young—and no one else is permitted to intrude -upon its privacy. Here the prophet has his own private bedroom, and here -he breakfasts when he has been at home over night. - -The Lion House is what ought to be the home of the Prophet, for here -nearly all his wives reside. (He has, however, many other houses in the -city.) On the basement floor is the dining-room, kitchen, pantry, and -other general offices. The first floor is divided by a long passage with -doors on each side. On the right hand, about half-a-dozen wives with -small families find accommodation. On the left, at the entrance, is -the parlour, and the other rooms on that side are occupied by mothers -with larger families, and ladies who have a little more than ordinary -attention. The upper floor is divided into twenty square bedrooms. - -There is no extravagance in the furniture or apparel of these wives, but -they are comfortable and are kept neat and clean. Again and again, the -Prophet has declared that the ten-dollar fees which are obtained from the -divorces provide his wives with pin-money. I do not believe a word of -this, as the amount thus obtained is far more than the avaricious soul of -the Prophet would allow to pass out of his hands for feminine vanities. -But I know of another source of income which is open to the wives. -They are allowed all the fruit—peaches especially—which they or their -children, can gather or dry. This, in fact, is pretty nearly their only -“pin-money” their “lord” is not a generous man, and they have to make the -most of trifles. - -The Prophet usually dines in the Lion House at three in the afternoon. -Mrs. Twiss Young, as I mentioned before, acts the part of housekeeper, -and she acts it well. At three punctually the bell rings, and the -mothers with their children move down to the dining-room. They are all -seated at a very long table which is lengthened by turning round at the -end of the room. Each mother has her children around her. Brigham sits -at the head of the table, with his favourite—when at home—_vis à vis_, -or on his left, and if a visitor is present he sits at the Prophet’s -right hand. The repast is frugal but ample, for Brigham is a sober and -exceedingly economical man. This is the first time he sees his family. In -the evening at seven o’clock the bell again rings, and the mothers and -the children again fill the sides and end of the parlour. When they are -all seated, the patriarch enters, takes his seat at the table and chats -quietly with those who chance to go in with him to prayers. When all the -members of the family are assembled, the door is closed. All kneel down -and the Prophet prays, invoking special blessings upon Zion and “the -kingdom.” This is the last that his family see of him for the day, unless -they have occasion to seek him privately. - -With his family Brother Brigham is said to be kind; but it is supposed -to be more the awe which his position as Prophet inspires, than the love -which they bear him as a man which renders him successful in managing -them. At the same time, that sweet familiarity is destroyed which -should exist between husband and wife, father and children. With such -a number of wives, he cannot possibly wait upon them in visiting, and -in the ball-room, and other places of amusement. With the exception of -his reigning favourite, whoever for the time she may happen to be, no -one expects his attentions. At the theatre a full number of seats are -reserved, and his wives attend, or remain at home, as they please. They -sit in the body of the parquette, among the rest of the people; but one -of the two proscenium boxes is reserved for him, and beside him is a -chair for the favourite Amelia. - -When he goes to the ball, the same special attention is shown. He dances -first with the favourite, and, if half-a-dozen more of his wives have -accompanied them, he will dance with each of them once in the course of -the evening; but with the favourite he dances as frequently as any youth -in the ball-room with his first maiden love. The Apostles and leading men -of the community, who dance attendance on him and desire his favour, are -sure to seek the pleasure of her hand and place her in the same cotillion -with Brigham, who is thus able all the evening to enjoy her company. - -Some of the Apostles and Elders look with pain upon this boyishness of -the Prophet, and deplore it. Many of them are attached to their first -wives, and have shown them consideration and attention which has not -always pleased Brother Brigham. I have heard more than one of them, -express a wish that the Prophet had been a little more attentive to his -own first wife. - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - -WAYS AND WORKS OF THE SAINTS:—THE PROPHET’S MILLINERY BILL. - - -When I arrived in Utah I found that nearly all the Elders with whom I -had formerly been acquainted had more than one wife there. Many of these -brethren called to see me, and kindly insisted that I should visit their -families; but this I felt was almost an impossibility. - -My whole nature rebelled at the thought of visiting where there were -several wives; for, in defiance of all the teaching that I had listened -to, and the tyranny to which we had submitted, human nature would assert -itself, and my womanly instincts revolted against the system. I could not -endure the thought of visiting those families in company with my husband. -I thought that perhaps sometimes I might venture _alone_; but, oh, not -with him,—no, not with him. It was bad enough and humiliating enough -for me to witness by myself the degradation of my sex; but to do so in -the presence of my husband was more than I could calmly contemplate. I -knew that I should not be able to control myself, and might probably say -some very unpleasant things, which I should afterwards regret; for I so -thoroughly loathed even the idea of polygamy at that time that I was -filled with a desire to let every one know and understand just what my -feelings were on that subject. - -I had left New York against my will, although I had not openly rebelled. -I had never reproached my husband about it, for I felt that his lot was -irrevocably cast with the Mormons: I knew that when I married him, and it -was of no use now for me to repine. I must go on to the end—there was no -help for me. The journey across the Plains, and all the discoveries which -I had made, had not tended to soothe my rebellious heart, and I am not -quite sure that I did not sow by the way a little discontent among the -sisters. The idea, however, that such was the case did not, I must admit, -fill me with much repentance. To my husband I had said very little, -but I think he would bear me witness that what I did say was said -effectively. Now when I was brought face to face with practical polygamy -and could observe it in its most repulsive phases, I hated it more than -ever. - -One day not long after our arrival, as we were taking a walk together, -I saw across the road a man gesticulating after an eccentric fashion -and beckoning to us. Mr. Stenhouse said, “That is Brother Heber C. -Kimball;” and I looked again with interest to see what that celebrated -Apostle was like. I had both heard and read a great deal about Brother -Heber, and what I had learned was not at all of a character to impress -me favourably—he had been so severe in his denunciation of every woman -who dared to oppose polygamy. On the present occasion his conduct was, -I thought, anything but gentlemanly; and when we crossed the road to -him,—which on account of his position in the Church—next to Brigham -himself—we, of course, were compelled to do,—my face must have betrayed -my feelings I am sure, for almost his first words after shaking hands -were, “Have you got the blues?” - -My answer was ready in a moment. “I have had nothing else ever since I -came here.” - -“Well,” he replied, “it is time that you should get rid of them, and I am -going to talk to you some day soon, for I rather like your looks.” - -I did not like _his_ looks much, however, nor was I at all pleased with -his manner. I do not say that I was altogether without blame in feeling -thus, for I was prejudiced. Of course I was prejudiced. From the first -moment when I heard that polygamy was a doctrine of the Church, I was -predisposed to be dissatisfied with everything: I was henceforth not -myself, for the terrible apprehension of my own fate in the “Celestial -Order” had changed my whole nature, and that change of itself was a -great source of grief to me. I keenly realized that I was no longer the -light-hearted, pleasant companion to my husband that I had been, and many -a time and oft I wished for his sake that I could die, for I felt that I -never could be happy in Mormonism again. - -How many times have I knelt by my husband’s couch when he was unconscious -of it, and have wept bitter tears of sorrow, earnestly praying to the -Lord to subdue my rebellious heart, and, if it were necessary, rather -than I should be a continual annoyance to my husband, whom I loved with -all my soul, that every particle of love in my heart should be withered, -so that I might perchance, if without love, be able at least to do my -duty. I fully realized that in polygamy there could be no real love; and -while my affections were still placed upon my husband, it was torture to -live in a community where I was compelled to listen to the “counsels” -which were given to him, day after day, regardless of my presence, to -take another wife. I was too proud to notice any ordinary allusion that -was made to the subject before me; but when the conversation was turned -in that direction by those who professed to be sincere friends and to -entertain a kindly interest in my welfare, I was compelled to listen and -reply. - -In my unhappy condition, I thought that perhaps I might derive some -consolation from the sermons in the Tabernacle—something that might -shed a softer light upon my rugged pathway. But instead of obtaining -consolation, I heard that which aroused every feeling of my soul to -rebellion, and kindled again within me the indignation which I had been -so long struggling to conquer. I heard that woman was an inferior being, -designed by the Lord for the special glory and exaltation of man, that -she was a creature that should feel herself honoured if he would only -make her the mother of his children—a creature who if very obedient and -faithful through all the trials and tribulations in life, might some day -be rewarded by becoming one of her husband’s queens, but should even then -shine only by virtue of the reflected light derived from the glory of her -spouse and lord. He was to be her “saviour,” for he was all in all to -her; and it was through him alone and at his will that she could obtain -salvation. We were informed that man was the crowning glory of creation, -for whom all things—woman included—were brought into being; and that the -chief object of woman’s existence was to help man to his great destiny. - -Not a sentence—indeed, not a word—did we ever hear as to the possibility -of womanly perfection and exaltation in her own right; and not only so, -but, as if this were not enough to crush all ambition out of our souls, -we were instructed in some new views of marriage. The great object of -marriage, we were told, was the increase of children. Those diviner -objects—the companionship of soul, the devotion of a refined and pure -affection, the indissoluble union of two existences—were never presented -to the yearning hearts of those poor women who listened to the miserable -harangues of the Tabernacle: such aspirations had nothing to do with the -hard, cruel facts of their life in polygamy. - -And this I found was how the women of Utah were spiritually sustained. -Seldom, indeed, was taught anything better, but frequently much that was -worse. If Nature, asserting its right to a full return of love, should -manifest itself, and inspire some of these poor wives to rebel against -the lives which they were compelled to lead in polygamy, then it would -be said, in the language of the Tabernacle, that the women were “filled -with the devil,” and that unless they repented speedily, they would -“apostatize and go to hell;”—an assurance which was scarcely necessary, -for many of those poor souls were enduring as much as if they were there -already. Or if some woman was found objecting to polygamy on account of -its crushing and degrading effects upon women generally, then, as I just -said, she was told in the coarse language of Brigham Young himself, that -“such women had no business to complain; it was quite enough honour for -them to be permitted to bear children to God’s holy Priesthood.” - -I found, therefore; that the sermons in the Tabernacle were not -calculated to help me much spiritually. I had neither friend nor -counsellor on earth to whom I could turn for help—my God alone remained -to me. But, ah, how different were my ideas of God then, from those which -I entertained before and since. Once I could look upon the beauties of -nature and the varied experiences of human life, and while my soul was -lifted up with devotion and gratitude, I could see the loving hand of my -Heavenly Father in everything around me. Now there was neither light nor -beauty before my eyes—all was dark and dreary; there was nothing to draw -away my heart from such sad thoughts as these. It was painfully clear to -my understanding, then as now, that in Mormonism woman was to lose her -personal identity. All that Christianity had done to elevate her was to -be ruthlessly set aside and trampled under foot, and she was instantly -to return to the position which she occupied in the darkest ages of the -world’s existence. - -I had at that time the daily and hourly cares of a family devolving -upon me, and had not therefore much leisure to spend in visiting my -friends even if I had desired to do so. Notwithstanding that, however, -I had abundant opportunities of observation; and thus my experience of -Mormonism and polygamy in Utah is much the same as that of any Mormon -woman of ordinary sense; I only tell what others could relate if they had -the inclination to do so. It was not possible for me to live in Salt Lake -City without being brought face to face with polygamy in some shape or -other every day of my life. Had it been otherwise, and if remaining at -home would have kept it from my view, I probably never should have had -the courage to enter a house where it was practised. To those who know -nothing of that degrading system this may seem rather an exaggeration -of feeling; and yet, even at that early day, I had seen so much of the -folly and weakness of the Mormon brethren, both in London and New York, -before we went to Utah, and had witnessed so many evil results of their -teachings, that it was with the greatest difficulty that I could control -my feelings sufficiently to call upon any family where there was more -than one wife. And yet what I knew then was nothing in comparison to what -I afterwards witnessed—yes, that I myself endured. - -During the winter, although I visited very little, I attended a good many -parties at the Social Hall; but I did so more from a wish to be agreeable -to my husband than from any pleasure that they afforded me, for life had -long since been losing almost all its charms for me. How many times have -I gazed wistfully at those lofty mountains which surrounded the city, and -felt that they were indeed my prison walls. How bitterly have I realized -that I should never be able to go beyond them. But in a new country, with -a family to provide for, a mother has not much time to waste in pining, -even if it be for liberty itself, and I would willingly draw the veil -over that portion of my life. - -As my husband had been on mission for so many years and had spent all -his time in the service of the Church, with the exception of a few brief -months before we left New York—when he was engaged on the staff of -the New York _Herald_—I naturally enough thought that when we reached -Zion his occupation would be gone. There would be no need of preaching -to the Saints: on the contrary they would be able to teach us; and we -should have to find out what we could do in this new country to support -ourselves and our children. In this I was not mistaken. - -Now among the “absolutely necessary” things which I had brought with -me from New York, were about three hundred dollars’ worth of millinery -goods, which I had secreted among our other properties, thinking that -they would very probably come in useful to the fair daughters of -Zion—notwithstanding that the Elders had told me of fiery sermons, -delivered by the Prophet himself, condemning all feminine display, and -that the sisters would scorn to wear Gentile fashions. I knew my own sex -too well to believe that all this was strictly true, and I felt certain -that I should find, even among the Saints, some weak sisters who would -appreciate my thoughtfulness in bringing such articles for their use. I -had also noticed that the American Elders themselves would frequently -inquire where they could buy the best gloves and the prettiest ribbons -and laces, and that looked a little suspicious. - -Quite a number of such articles, therefore, found their way into my list -of “absolute necessaries,” and I know that my husband was secretly quite -at a loss to know what had become of a certain sum of money which he was -aware I had obtained from the sale of some of our things in New York. But -my foresight in this instance was very useful to us when we arrived in -Zion. - -One day when Mr. Stenhouse was absent seeking employment, I thought I -would make a display of my treasures and surprise him on his return. -Accordingly, with the assistance of our faithful domestic, whom I had -brought with me across the Plains, and who had also lived with me in -Switzerland, we contrived to place two or three planks in such a way as -to make a rough table on which to display the goods. I had been secretly -at work for about two weeks, trimming the bonnets and hats, and making a -number of head-dresses, such as were worn in New York when we left; and, -although we had been three months on the Plains, and quite a month in -Utah, yet those bonnets and head-dresses were of the very latest style to -the ladies of Salt Lake City. - -My Swiss girl was quite a carpenter, and when my temporary table was -arranged, I placed a pretty-looking cloth over it to hide its defects, -and then began to arrange the various articles. I found that I had a -much finer assortment than I had imagined, for I had bought them at -different times, and had packed them away hurriedly, lest Mr. Stenhouse -or some of the other Elders—for there were generally one or two in the -house—should object to my taking them. When my table was filled, and I -found that I had still more to display, I was very much pleased, for I -saw in my hats and bonnets, flour, meat, and potatoes for my children, -and I felt hopeful, for one of the sisters had assured me that I should -be certain to sell them. The next thing to do was to advertise my stock. -After some reflection, I remembered another of the sisters, who was quite -a good talker, and who felt very kindly towards me. I had known her in -England—she had been in Utah about three years, and her husband had by -that time been blessed with two other wives. She used to say that she -had no patience with a set of grumbling women, who did not know what was -good for them. I do not think that the blessedness enjoyed by her husband -was shared by the two wives, for more forlorn-looking women I never saw. -My husband, however, told me that this was none of my business, and I -believed him, of course, after the fashion of all good wives. - -But to return. This good sister, besides being an excellent talker, had -really nothing else to do except visiting her neighbours, for the other -wives now took entire charge of all the household duties. So I made her a -present of a new bonnet, as I knew that then in two days my goods would -be quite sufficiently advertised; and in this I was not mistaken. - -Almost the first visitors who called to see me were a lady and her -daughter. I talked freely to her and answered her inquiries, and she -told me that she herself had had some experience in the business. “In -Salt Lake City,” she said, “I think you will not be able to sell those -goods; they are too fashionable for the people here, and there is no -encouragement given to any one in this business. I am afraid you will be -disappointed.” - -I believed every word she said, and felt all my airy, hopeful castles -begin to crumble away. Before she left, however, she very kindly offered -to purchase all my goods at a low figure and thus relieve me of the -anxiety and trouble of selling them. But I had had a little experience in -the world,—although probably I appeared to her somewhat innocent,—and I -thought that if she could sell them, there was a chance at least that I -also might be able to do so. At any rate, I resolved to try, and I told -her so, when she left me with many kind wishes for my success. But what -she had said during her visit had chilled my enthusiasm, and I pictured -all my pretty newly-made articles becoming soiled and faded, with no one -to buy them; while the little ones, barefooted—like so many children in -Utah then—were running about crying for bread which I could not buy them. -I felt sad, and, if I must confess it, I sat down and had a good cry. - -Just at that moment I heard a knock at the door, and hastily drying my -eyes, I opened it, and there stood my talkative friend. - -“Stop crying!” she exclaimed. “What is the matter, my dear? Oh _do_ stop -crying. I don’t like crying women: we see so many of them among the -Saints of God that it is really a shame and a disgrace. Tell me what is -the matter? Has your husband got another wife? or are you afraid he -won’t be able to get one? Come, tell me!” - -All this was uttered in a breath, and without the possibility of my -putting in a word by way of reply or remonstrance. At last I told her -that I had just had a visit from one of the sisters and her daughter, -whom I described. - -“I know,” she said; “I met her as I was coming here. Do you know who she -is?” - -“No,” I replied, “I do not think she told me her name; she simply came to -look at the goods.” - -“And did she tell you that they would sell well, and that they are the -best investment that you could have made?” - -“Quite the contrary,” I said, “she discouraged me so much that I could -not help shedding tears.” - -“Well now,” she answered, “that was Mrs. C——, one of our milliners here; -and you suppose she was going to encourage you to set up an opposition -shop, do you? If you do, why, you’ve got something yet to learn.” Indeed -I felt that I had got a great deal to learn. - -“Now I have come to tell you quite a different story,” she said. “This -very afternoon you will have at least a dozen ladies here; and ladies, -too, who have got the money to pay for what they have, and who won’t pay -you in salt chips and whetstones.” - -“Do they ever pay in such things?” I inquired. - -“Why certainly they do. That is the kind of pay that the good Saints -generally expect their poor brethren and sisters to be satisfied with, -and to feed their hungry children upon. But I say that this is wrong. -Not that I want to set myself up as a judge in Zion, or that I should -criticize the actions of the brethren, God forbid! But when I see the -rich brethren grinding the faces of the poor in that way, why, I say that -it is wrong. But you must not take any such pay as that. You may not -always get money, but you can at least get flour, potatoes, and molasses. -Now, I tell you that you are going to sell every article that you have -got, and I shall take pleasure in recommending you and talking about it. -Why, I’ve been to about two score people already; but, there! I see your -husband coming, and I must go!” My husband, indeed, _was_ there. He was -not very fond of my talkative friend, and passed her by with a polite -salutation only; but when he saw what I had been doing, the light dawned -upon his mind, he no longer wondered what had become of the dollars in -New York, and, astonished at my success, he congratulated me upon the -good use to which I had put them. - -After this interview I felt quite encouraged, and I very soon found that -my friend’s predictions were correct. I had no difficulty in selling, -and I created quite a little business, although we lived a considerable -distance from Main Street. And what with my efforts, and some employment -which my husband obtained, we contrived to get through our first winter -in Salt Lake City. - -But I anticipate. - -One day my husband informed me that there was a house about to be vacated -shortly, and that Brigham Young had told him we had better take it. It -was pleasantly situated near the Tabernacle, and, as houses then were, it -was quite a desirable residence. We had it thoroughly cleaned, and then -moved in. When I arrived in the evening I found that Mr. Stenhouse, with -the assistance of our faithful Swiss girl, had arranged everything as the -goods arrived from the other house; and the place looked so clean, and -there was such a bright fire burning that I felt that we now had really -something like a home, and my heart was filled with gratitude. - -Soon after our establishment in our new home, Brigham sent for me and -asked me to make a handsome bonnet for his then favourite wife Emmeline. -He left it entirely to my taste; I was to make just what I pleased, so -that it suited her and gave satisfaction. - -I made my bonnet; and when I presented it, Brigham Young was so pleased -that he immediately gave me an order to make one for each of his wives. -I was very much pleased at this, for we needed furniture and many other -necessaries very badly, and I thought that this would enable me to get -them. I expected, of course, that my account would be paid in money, for -I did not suppose that the Prophet of the Lord would offer me chips or -whetstones: he could afford to pay cash, and, of course, would do so. -He had furnished me with some material out of his own store—for Brigham -Young had a dry-goods and grocery store of his own at that time—and I was -to furnish the remainder. It was very little indeed that he supplied, -and therefore my account was likely to amount to a considerable sum, for -almost every wife had at least one bonnet which she wished made over with -new trimmings, besides the new one. - -I worked constantly for three weeks, with the assistance of two girls, -to each of whom I paid six dollars a week besides board. This was a -difficult thing for me to do at that time in Utah, for money was seldom -seen there then; but I was rejoicing in the prospect of the comfortable -new furniture which I should have when it was all done. Furniture at -that time was very expensive; there was nothing better than white pine -articles, stained or painted. The commonest kind of wooden rocking-chair -cost fifteen dollars, and common painted wooden chairs were six dollars a -piece, with everything else in proportion. This being our first winter, -we had not been able to get much, and I thought I would devote the -proceeds of the work I was doing for Brigham to fitting up the house a -little; and, with what I earned from my other customers, I contrived to -pay my help, so as to have all the rest clear. - -All was completed, and great satisfaction expressed at the result of my -labours. So I asked my husband to present my account and, if possible, -get it settled; it amounted to about 275 dollars, although I had dealt -very liberally with the Prophet, and had charged for the goods but little -more than they cost me. When he returned, I hastened to meet him, for I -had partly selected the furniture and I wanted to go and purchase it. But -I was like poor Perrette, the milkmaid, who counted her chickens a little -too soon; for Mr. Stenhouse told me that Brother Brigham had given orders -that the amount should be credited to us _for tithing_! What a shock this -was to me; for that sum, small as it may appear, was my whole fortune at -the time, and it was gone at one sweep! “Can it be possible,” I said, -“that he can be so mean as that? Where can his conscience be? or has he -any; to deprive me of my hard earnings in this way? He shall not do it—I -will _make_ him pay me.” - -My indignation was so great that I did not reflect how imprudent I was to -talk thus of the Prophet of the Lord; but my husband said, “What can you -_do_? You cannot help yourself. You can _do_ nothing but submit. Let us -try to forget it; or, if not, it will perhaps be a lesson to us.” But I -did not forget it and never could, although I tried very hard; and when -many months had passed, and I no longer suffered from the effects of my -loss, I still remembered it, and I always _shall_ remember the way in -which Brigham paid for his wives’ bonnets. - -[Illustration: ORSON HYDE, Late President of the Twelve Apostles. - -_Born January, 1805._] - -[Illustration: GEORGE Q. CANNON, Utah Delegate to Congress. - -_Born in Liverpool, England, 1827._] - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - -MYSTERIES OF THE ENDOWMENT HOUSE—FEARFUL OATHS AND SECRET CEREMONIES. - - -Not many weeks after our arrival in Salt Lake City, my husband told me -that we might now enjoy the privilege of going through the Endowment -House. - -This was intended as a great favour to us, on the part of the -authorities, for most people have to wait a long while before receiving -their Endowments; but my husband’s influence and position in the Church -was, I presume, the reason why we were admitted so soon. - -Now, I had heard so much of the Endowments and the Endowment House that I -quite dreaded to pass through this ordeal. The idea of the whole ceremony -was, that thereby we should receive the special grace of God; be united, -man and woman, making one perfect creature; receive our inheritance as -children of God; and, in fact, be made partakers of the plenitude of -every blessing. - -I knew well that no marriage was considered binding unless it had been -celebrated in that place. I knew that the Saints, however long they might -have been wedded, were under the necessity of being reunited there before -they could be considered lawfully married and their children legitimate. -According to the highest Mormon authority, no marriage is valid unless -the ceremony is performed in the Temple. The Temple is not yet built, -and as Joseph, the Prophet, said, “No fellow can be damned for doing the -best he knows how,” the Saints, meanwhile, do “the next best thing,” -and are married in the Endowment House. I knew that there and then the -faithful were said to be “endowed” with their heavenly inheritance. I -saw how _absolutely needful_ it was that my husband and myself should -become partakers of those mysteries; but I was influenced by the strange -stories which I had heard of unhallowed and shameful doings in that same -Endowment House, and consequently I feared to enter in. - -My fears were not, however, altogether groundless or visionary. It has -been whispered—falsely perhaps—that in that Endowment House scenes have -been enacted so fearful that words would falter on the lips of those who -told the tale concerning them. I have _heard_ of such things from men -of integrity and honour; but they were not eye-witnesses of what they -related, and they could not, or would not, give me their authorities. -One thing I am certain of; if such horrible deeds were ever perpetrated -within those walls, there remains no _living_ witness to testify of them. -The lips of those who alone could tell the whole truth are sealed in a -silence which the trump of doom alone shall break. - -It was, of course, no fear of any personal violence or any painful -disclosures in that respect, that made me reluctant to receive my -Endowments, for at that time I was by profession apparently a good -Mormon; if I had my doubts and misgivings, I had them in common with -nine-tenths of the Mormon women, and had therefore nothing to fear. The -true cause of my reluctance was of a more delicate and personal nature. -I had been informed that, if I refused to go, my husband could not go -alone; he would be compelled to take another wife, and go with her. This -was not all. I found that it was quite common for the Elders to take a -second wife when they took their first Endowments, and thus, as they -coarsely expressed it, “kill two birds with one stone.” Moreover, I had -heard of men who feared to introduce Polygamy into their households, -presenting to their wives, while going through the House, a young girl as -their intended bride, feeling sure that the wife would not dare to make -a scene before the Assembly. How could I know that my husband also had -not such an idea in his mind? True, I trusted him implicitly, and did not -believe it possible that he could deceive me. But had not men who were -universally known for their integrity and honour acted in the same way -to _their_ wives; and with so many evidences of the best and most honest -natures being corrupted by the unrighteous teachings of their religion, -could I be blamed for doubting him whom I loved best? - -There was also another reason why I particularly objected to passing -through the Endowment House. I had been told many strange and revolting -stories about the ceremonies which were there performed, for it was said -that in the Nauvoo Temple the most disgraceful things were done. About -what was done at Nauvoo I can say nothing, as it was before my time, but -still it is only fair to say, that people who in every other relation -in life I should have deemed most reliable and trustworthy were my -informants respecting those strange stories. Of the Endowments in Utah I -can, of course, speak more positively, as I myself passed through them; -and I wish to say most distinctly that, although the initiation of the -Saints into “The Kingdom,” appears now to my mind as a piece of the most -ridiculous absurdity, there was, nevertheless, nothing in it indecent or -immoral—of which the reader himself shall presently be the judge. - -It is an invariable rule among the Mormons, as I have before intimated, -for every man or woman to mind his or her own business, and nothing -else. Thus it was, that until I myself went through the Endowments, -I was totally ignorant of what they were; although, of course, many -people, with whom I had daily intercourse could easily have enlightened -me if they had been thus minded. Besides this, every Mormon’s mouth was -closed by the oath of that same Endowment House—the penalty of which was -death, a penalty which no one doubted would be sternly enforced. Thus, -totally in the dark, and remembering only the strange stories told about -“washings” and “anointings,” and an imitation of the Garden of Eden, with -Adam and Eve clothed in their own innocence alone, it can be no wonder -that any modest woman should wish to evade all participation in such -scenes. - -I spoke to my husband about it, and he tried to reassure me, but what he -said had rather a contrary effect. - -Before we left England, when speaking of these ceremonies, my husband -told me that they were simply a privilege and a matter of choice. But -what a choice! I might go or refuse to go; but, if I refused, he must—if -he went through it all—take another wife in my place, and, as I knew, -there would be no difficulty in finding one. I should in consequence be -known as a rebellious woman; annoyance and indignity would be heaped upon -me; while within my own home I should be compelled to occupy the position -of second wife—as the one who is married first in the Endowment House is -considered the first wife, and has the control of everything. - -My husband told me that now he was most anxious to go; he had already -been notified three times that such was his privilege, and there were, he -said, good reasons why we ought gladly to accept the opportunity. It was -an honour, he said, for which many people had waited for years. - -My husband reminded me that we had been married by a Gentile, and while -living among Gentiles, and that, as I said before, our marriage was -not valid, and our children were not legitimate. Only those children of -ours who were born _after_ the ceremony in the Endowment House would be -legitimate; the others were outcasts from the “Kingdom” unless we adopted -them _after_ our initiation, and thus made them heirs. In any case, poor -children, they could never be considered the _real_ heirs; they could -only be “heirs by adoption.” - -So I agreed to go, trying to persuade myself that it was a sacred duty; -for, although my faith in Mormonism had been roughly shaken, I still -believed that its origin was divine. - -The Temple robe, which is a long, loose, flowing garment, made of white -linen or bleached muslin, and reaching to the ankle, had been placed -upon us just before we took the oaths. It was gathered to a band about -twelve inches long, which rested on the right shoulder, passed across the -breast, and came together under the left arm, and was then fastened by -a linen belt. This leaves the left arm entirely free. The veil consists -of a large square of Swiss muslin, gathered in one corner so as to form -a sort of cap to fit the head; the remainder falls down as a veil. The -men wear the same kind of under garment as the women, and their robes -are the same, but their head-dress is a round piece of linen drawn up -with a string and a bow in front, something after the fashion of a Scotch -cap. All good Mormons, after they have received their first Endowments, -get whole suits of Temple robes made on purpose for them, so that they -may be ready for use at any time when they are needed. All marriages in -the Endowment House are performed in these robes, and in them all Saints -who have received their Endowments are buried. Besides our robes we were -instructed to take with us a bottle of the best olive oil. - -At seven o’clock in the morning of the day appointed, we presented -ourselves at the door of the Endowment House, and were admitted by -Brother Lyon, the Mormon poet. Everything within was beautifully neat and -clean, and a solemn silence pervaded the whole place. The only sound that -could be heard was the splashing of water, but whence the sound proceeded -we could not see. In spite of myself, a feeling of dread and uncertainty -respecting what I had to go through would steal over my mind, and I -earnestly wished that the day was over. - -We waited patiently for a little while, and presently a man entered and -seated himself at a table placed there for that purpose, upon which -was a large book. He opened the book, and then calling each person in -turn, he took their names and ages, and the names of their fathers and -mothers, and carefully entered each particular in the book. Our bottles -of oil were then taken from us, and we were supposed to be ready for the -ceremony. - -First we were told to take off our shoes, and leave them in the anteroom, -and then to take up our bundles and pass into another room beyond. This -was a large bath-room, which was divided down the middle by a curtain of -heavy material placed there for the purpose of separating the men from -the women. Here my husband left me—he going to the men’s and I to the -women’s division. In the bath-room were two or three large bathing-tubs -supplied by streams of hot and cold water. We were as much concealed from -the men as if we had been in an entirely separate room, and everything -was very quiet and orderly. - -Miss Eliza R. Snow, the poetess, and a Mrs. Whitney, were the officiating -attendants on that occasion. The former conducted me to one of the -bathing-tubs, and placing me in it, she proceeded to wash me from the -crown of my head to the soles of my feet. As she did this she repeated -various formulas to the effect that I was now washed clean from the blood -of this generation and should never, if I remained faithful, be partaker -in the plagues and miseries which were about to come upon the earth. When -I had thus been washed clean, she wiped me dry, and then taking a large -horn filled with the olive oil which we had brought, she anointed me. The -oil was poured from the horn by Mrs. Whitney into the hand of Eliza Snow, -who then applied it to me. The horn was said to be the horn of plenty -which, like the widow’s cruse of oil, would never fail as long as the -ordinance should continue to be administered. In addition to the crown of -my head, my eyes, ears, and mouth were also anointed; my eyes that they -might be quick to see, my ears that they might be apt at hearing, and -my mouth that I might with wisdom speak the words of eternal life. She -also anointed my feet, that they might be swift to run in the ways of the -Lord. I was then given a certain garment to put on. - -Now this garment is one peculiar to the Mormon people. It is made so as -to envelope the whole body, and it is worn night and day. I was told -that after having once put it on, I must never wholly take it off before -putting on another, but that I should change one half at a time, and -that if I did so I should be protected from disease, and even from death -itself; for the bullet of an enemy would not penetrate that garment, and -that from it even the dagger’s point should be turned aside. It has been -said that the Prophet Joseph carelessly left off this peculiar garment -on the day of his death, and that, had he not done so, the rifles of his -assassins would have been harmless against him. - -When thus arrayed, I proceeded to put on a white nightdress and skirt, -stockings, and white linen shoes. A new name was then whispered into my -ear, which I was told I must never mention to any living soul except my -husband in the Endowment House. This name was taken from the Bible, and -I was given to understand that it would be the name whereby I should be -admitted into the celestial kingdom. This was of course very gratifying. -A circumstance, however, occurred which took from me all the pride which -might have been mine in the possession of a new name. There was among -our number a deaf woman; Mrs. Whitney had to tell her her name once or -twice over, loud enough for me to hear, and thus I found that her new -name, as well as mine, was Sarah. To make the matter worse, another -sister whispered, “Why, that is my name too.” This entirely dispelled any -enthusiasm which otherwise I might have felt. I could well understand -that I might yet become a Sarah in Israel, but if we all were Sarahs, -there would not be much distinction or honour in being called by that -name. As a matter of course I supposed that the men would all become -Abrahams. - -Our washing and anointing being now over, we were ready for the -initiation—there were about fifteen couples in all. - -A voice from behind the curtain asked Miss Snow if we were ready, and was -answered in the affirmative. We were then arranged in a row, the curtain -was drawn aside, and we stood face to face with the men, who had, of -course, on their side of the curtain, been put through the same ordeal. I -felt dreadfully nervous, for I did not know what was coming next, and I -could not quite dismiss from my mind the stories that I had heard about -these mysteries. But in spite of my nervousness, curiosity was strong in -me at that moment, as it was, I suppose, in the others; for, as soon as -the curtain was drawn aside, we all cast our eyes in the direction of the -men. They, as might be expected, were looking in our direction, and when -I beheld them I must say that my sympathies were drawn out towards the -poor creatures. However little vanity or personal pride they possessed, -they must have felt it unpleasant to have to appear in the presence of -ladies in such a dress—or rather _un_dress; and notwithstanding the -solemn meaning of the ceremony, there was just the ghost of a smile upon -our faces as we looked at each other and dropped our eyes again. To any -one who did not feel as we did the religious nature of the initiation, -the scene must have appeared perfectly ludicrous. In fact, some of us -felt it so. One sister, just as the curtain was drawn up and we came in -full view of our lords, cried out, “Oh dear, oh dear, where shall I go? -What shall I do?” This, as may be supposed, caused a laugh, which was, of -course, immediately suppressed. - -We could see how the men looked, but of our own appearance we could not -so easily judge. Certainly, we must have looked anything but handsome in -our white garments, and with the oil trickling down our faces and into -our eyes, making them smart and look red. There was nothing, however, for -us to do but to submit quietly and make the best of it we could. Ashamed -as I was, I thought I might venture to look at my husband; there could be -no harm in that; but when I saw his demure-looking countenance and his -efforts to keep his clothing in order, I thought I should be compelled -to laugh outright, for I could see that his thoughts were more occupied -about his personal appearance than with the solemnity of the occasion. -The men were all dressed in the same kind of garment as the women—drawers -and shirt all in one, very much like those which are used for children to -sleep in, and over that an ordinary white shirt, such as men always wear; -that, with socks and white linen shoes, completed their toilet. - -Clad after this interesting fashion, we sat opposite to each other for -several minutes, and then my husband and myself were instructed to come -forward and kneel at the altar while all the rest remained standing. -It is the custom thus to select two persons, and we were either picked -out by chance, or it might be, as my husband was thought a good deal of -by the authorities, that they considered he would feel honoured by the -preference. - -Suddenly a voice was heard speaking to some one, who also replied. -This voice from the unseen was supposed to be the voice of Elohim in -conversation with Jehovah, and the words that were used were much the -same as those contained in the first chapter of the book of Genesis, -describing the creation of the world. Finally, Jehovah and Elohim declare -their intention to come down and visit the earth. This they do, and -pronounce all that they behold very good; but they declare that it is -necessary that one of a higher order of intelligence than the brute -creation should be placed in the world to govern and control all else. - -Michael the Archangel is now called, and he is placed upon the earth -under the name of Adam, and power is given him over all the beasts of -the field, the fowls of the air, and the fishes of the sea. Moreover, -the fruits of the earth are all given to him for his sustenance and -pleasure; but he is strictly charged, as in Bible story, not to eat of -one particular tree which stands in the midst of the garden. This tree is -represented by a small real evergreen, and a few bunches of dried raisins -are hung upon it as fruit. - -It is now discovered that it is not good for man to be alone; Elohim and -Jehovah, therefore, hold another conversation upon that subject, and they -finally determine to give a companion to Adam. They, therefore, cause -a deep sleep to fall upon Michael—or Adam as he is now called—and they -prepare to operate upon him. Here we were all instructed to assume the -attitude of deep sleep by dropping our heads upon our breasts. Elohim -and Jehovah then come down and go through the motions of removing a rib -from the side of the sleeper, which said rib appears immediately upon the -scene in the person of Eliza R. Snow. Elohim and Jehovah are generally -represented by two of the Twelve Apostles. When Brigham is present he -plays a prominent part. - -And now the devil makes his appearance in the person of W. W. Phelps. -Phelps used always to personate the devil in the Endowments, and the -_rôle_ suited him admirably. He is dead now, but whether it has made -any difference in his _status_ I cannot tell, nor do I know who has -succeeded him in his office. The devil wears a very tight-fitting suit -of black muslin, with knee-breeches and black stockings and slippers. -This dress had all the appearance of a theatrical costume, and the man -looked as much like what one might imagine the devil would look as he -possibly could. He began by trying to scrape acquaintance with Eve, whom -he meets while taking a walk in the garden. The innocent, unsuspecting -woman is fascinated by his attentions. Father Adam—who seems to have -had a touch of the Mormon about him—perhaps was not the most attentive -of husbands; or he may have made the same mistake as that which so many -of his sons have since made—neglecting to pay the same attentions after -marriage as he was wont to before—and left his young wife to the mercy of -the tempter. However that may be, Satan and Eve are soon discovered in -conversation together, and Eve appears to be particularly pleased with -Satan. At length he offers her some of the fruit of the forbidden tree, -and after some little demur she accepts it and eats thereof. - -Then the devil leaves her, Adam makes his appearance, and Eve persuades -him also to eat of the fruit of the tree. After this they make a dumb -show of perceiving their condition, and an apron of white linen is -produced, on which are sewn pieces of green silk, in imitation of fig -leaves, and in these they both attire themselves. - -Then all the brethren and sisters produced similar aprons which they had -brought with them on purpose, and these they put on, as Adam and Eve -had already done. Elohim now appeared again, and called Adam; but Adam -was afraid, and hid himself in the garden with Eve. The curse was now -pronounced upon the serpent—the devil—who reappears upon his hands and -knees, making a hissing noise as one might suppose a serpent would do. We -were then all driven out of the Garden of Eden into another room which -represented the world—and this ended the “First Degree.” - -We were now supposed to be out in the world, earning our daily bread by -the sweat of our brows, and we were informed that although we had been -driven out from the presence of the Lord, yet a plan of salvation would -be devised for us, by which we should be enabled to return to our first -estate. We were to wait patiently until this plan should be disclosed to -us. - -There was here such a mixture of persons and events that I could not -exactly follow the idea that was intended to be conveyed—if there was -any idea at all. Men representing the ancient prophets entered, and gave -instructions to the people to prepare themselves for the first coming -of our Saviour upon earth. Then we were taught certain pass-words and -grips; and then we were all arranged in a circle. The women covered their -faces with their veils, and we all kneeled down, and, with our right -hands uplifted towards heaven, we took the solemn oath of obedience and -secrecy.[1] We swore that by every means in our power we would seek to -avenge the death of Joseph Smith, the Prophet, upon the Gentiles who had -caused his murder, and that we would teach our children to do so; we -swore, that without murmur or questioning, we would implicitly obey the -commands of the priesthood in everything; we swore that we would not -commit adultery—which, with reference to the men, was explained to mean -the taking of wives without the permission of the holy Priesthood; and -we swore that we would never, under any circumstances, reveal that which -transpired in the Endowment House. - -The penalty for breaking this oath, which was worded in the most -startling and impressive way, was then explained to us. His bowels -were—while he was yet living—to be torn from him, his throat was to be -cut from ear to ear, and his heart and tongue were to be cut out. In the -world to come, everlasting damnation would be his portion. - -Let not the reader think that this was merely an imaginary penalty, -or that it was expressed merely for the purpose of frightening the -weak-minded; for, as will be shown, punishments quite as horrible as that -have been deliberately meted out to the Apostate, the Gentile, and the -suspected Saint, by the Mormon Priesthood. The innocent blood which cries -for vengeance against Brigham Young and some of the leaders of the Church -is sufficient to weigh the purest spirit which stands before the throne -of God down to the nethermost abysses of hell. - -After these fearful oaths had been taken with due solemnity, we were -instructed in the various signs representing those dreadful penalties; -and we were also given a “grip” peculiar to this degree. - -We were next entertained by a long address from the Apostle Heber C. -Kimball.—Never in my life—except from Brigham Young—have I listened to -such disgusting language, and I trust I never shall be compelled to -listen to anything like it again. Brother Kimball always used to pride -himself upon using “plain” language, but that day I think he surpassed -himself; he seemed to take quite a pleasure in saying anything which -could make us blush. The subject of which he discoursed was the married -life in the “Celestial Order;” he also laid great stress upon the -necessity of our keeping silence concerning all that we had witnessed -in the Endowment House—even husbands to their wives, and wives to their -husbands, were not to utter a single word. With the sermon ended our -“Second Degree.” - -We were now taken to another room for the purpose of passing through -the “Third Degree” of the Order of the Melchisedec Priesthood. When we -were all arranged on one side against the wall, a number of individuals -entered who were supposed to represent the ministers of every -denomination and religion upon the face of the earth. The devil also -makes his appearance again. The ministers set forth the various claims of -their respective creeds—each one striving to show that his is the purest -and the best—but the devil sows division and hatred among them, and a -good deal of confusion ensues. - -Then came in personages representing Peter, James, and John, the -Apostles; and they commanded ministers, devil, and all to depart. They -then appeared to organize a new Church, in which the true principles of -the Gospel were to be taught; our Temple robes were also all changed from -the right shoulder to the left, indicating that we were now in the true -Church, and that we were to be absolutely and in every way dependent upon -the priesthood. Another grip was then given to us, and thus we received -the third degree of the Order of Melchisedec Priesthood. In that room -was a division made of bleached muslin; in the division a door and in -the door a hole, with a lap of muslin over it, through which to pass -the hand. Whoever was on the other side could see us, but we could not -see them. The men first approached this door. A person representing the -Apostle Peter appeared at the opening and demanded who was there. He -was told that some one desired to enter. Hands came through the opening -in the muslin curtain, and mysterious fingers cut a mark on the left -breast of the men’s shirts—one mark also over the abdomen, and one over -the right knee—which marks the women religiously imitated upon their -own garments when they got home. The applicant was then told to put his -hand through the opening, and give the last grip belonging to the “Third -Degree,” and mention his new name. He was then permitted to enter. This -was called “going behind the veil.” When the men were all admitted, the -women were suffered to approach, and were passed through by their own -husbands. When a woman has no husband she is passed through by one of -the brethren, and to those who are not going to be married or sealed for -eternity here the ceremonies end. - -Now, as I before stated, according to Mormon ideas we had never before -been legally married. It was therefore, necessary that we should now pass -through that ceremony. We accordingly were conducted to a desk, where -our names were entered, and we were then passed into another room. In -that room was a long, low altar, covered with red velvet, and an armchair -placed at one end of it, in which sat Brigham Young. My husband knelt at -one side of the altar and I at the other, with our hands clasped above -it in the last grip which had been given to us. Then the ordinary formula -of marriage was gone through with, and we were informed that we were -sealed for time and for eternity. - -Thus we passed through the mysteries of the Endowment House, and at three -o’clock in the afternoon we found ourselves at liberty to return home. -The various ceremonies had occupied eight hours. - -When we reached home, my husband said, “Well, what do you think of the -Endowments?” But I did not dare to answer him truthfully at that time. -Had I done so, I should have told him that I was ashamed and disgusted. -Never in all my life did I suffer such humiliation as I did that day; -for the whole time I was under the impression that those who officiated -looked upon us as a set of silly dupes, and I felt annoyed to think -that I dared not tell them so. So I told my husband that I would rather -not speak about it, and we never have spoken of it to this day. What -were his own feelings about the matter, I do not know, for Mormon wives -are taught never to pry into their husband’s feelings or meddle with -their actions. But notwithstanding all my feelings in reference to the -Endowments, so foolish was I that when I afterwards heard the brethren -and sisters talking about the happiness which they had experienced while -going through, and saying how privileged we ought to feel at being in -Zion among the Saints of God, secure in His Kingdom where we could bring -up our children in the fear of the Lord, I began again to think that the -fault was all in myself, and that it was I who was wrong and not the -Endowments. I wondered how, with such a rebellious heart, I should ever -get salvation, and I mourned to think that I had not accepted everything -with the simplicity of a child. - -Some time after our initiation I met the Apostle Heber C. Kimball, and -he asked me how I felt upon the occasion. I frankly told him all, but -added that I regretted feeling so. He said, “I shall see if you cannot -go through again; it is not just the thing, and I shall try and make -the opportunity.” Nothing more, however, was said about it. But that -which troubled me most was the fact that while the oaths were being -administered, I dropped my hand and inwardly vowed that I would never -subscribe to such things, and at the same time my heart was filled with -bitter opposition. This, although I did it involuntarily—my better nature -rising within me, and overcoming my superstition—I thought at the time -was sinful. I now, however, rejoice that such was the case; for not -having actually vowed to keep secret those abominable oaths, I can say, -without any cavil or equivocation, that I have broken no promise and -betrayed no trust by the revelations which I have just made. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - -SECRETS OF SAINTLY SPOUSES:—A VISIT FROM MY TALKATIVE FRIEND. - - -Not long after I had received my Endowments, my talkative friend, of whom -I have already spoken, came to see me and to offer her congratulations. -She was quite enthusiastic upon the subject, spoke of the honour which -had been conferred upon us, and promised to call frequently “to build me -up.” She was particularly anxious to learn whether I did not feel much -better and happier now. - -On that point I could say little, for to have answered her truthfully -would have provoked discussion, into which I did not care to enter. I -knew, too, that anything I said to her would soon be known to every one -else. So I told her that I was feeling well enough. - -“‘Well enough!’” she said. “Is that how you feel? Come now, I thought you -would have got over all that when you had been through your Endowments. -You remind me of what Brother Brigham says,—We have so many whining women -in Zion that it is quite a reproach. I do hope that you are not going to -become one of them. Let me give you a bit of advice: The wisest thing -that you can do is to look out for another wife for your husband, and get -him to marry her.” - -“Oh my!” I said; “what are you talking about? You surely cannot be in -earnest.” - -“I never was more earnest in my life,” she answered. “If you had -persuaded your husband to take another wife when you went through your -Endowments, you would have got over all your troubles at one time. The -anticipation is ten times worse than the reality.” - -“I do not see it in that light,” I said. “My own opinion is that my -troubles in that case would only then have begun. I do not think that you -yourself are really happy.” - -“Oh, nonsense!” she exclaimed. “Why you can see how happy I am. My -husband has two other wives, besides myself, and a more comfortable -family could not be.” - -“You never told me,” I said, “how your husband managed to get those -wives. I should like to hear.” - -“My husband managed! Why _he_ did not manage at all; it was I who -arranged everything for him, and I’ll tell you how it was done. - -“During the Reformation,” she continued, “you, of course, know the men -were constantly urged to take more wives; but my husband was rather -backward, and used to tell me there was plenty of time, and not the -slightest occasion for him to be in a hurry. I had my own opinion of the -matter and did not agree with him, for you see I was afraid that after -all, he would pick up some young girl or other and fall in love with her, -and all my plans would be disarranged. It is, you know much the best for -the first wife to look out for some girl who will look up to her and -respect her, but not love her husband too much, and then they are likely -to get on well together. If the first wife selects the other wives, -it has the effect of showing them that the husband thinks much of her -judgment and is willing to abide by it, and that they will have to do the -same. This, of course, is as it should be. But if she lets her husband -choose his own wife, he is almost certain to take a fancy to some one -whom the first wife does not like at all, and consequently her authority -is undermined. The first wife ought to keep all the power in her own -hands.” - -“Well,” I said, “I should not care much, I think, who ruled in my home if -another wife was there.” - -“You think so now,” she replied; “but when you get used to polygamy you -will feel quite otherwise. People get used to it—the women as well as the -men—and then they leave off fretting and become less selfish. But I was -going to tell you how I managed my husband. - -“I was very anxious, as I told you, to find another wife for him, and I -took into consideration all the suitable girls I knew. There was some -objection to almost every one. Some were too pretty and I knew I should -detest them; and others were not good-looking, and those my husband -could not bear. So I waited patiently, but did not give up the hope of -succeeding eventually. At last I met with a girl who I thought would do. -She was certainly not bad-looking, but she was very young, and I thought -I should be able to manage her. The name of this girl was Alice Maynard; -she was a neighbour of ours, and one of a large family. She seemed to me -to be a quiet modest little creature, and I knew that she had to work -hard and received very little in return. In fact, she led at home a life -of drudgery, and even her very clothing bore witness to the poverty of -the family. Her mother had often told me that she felt badly for Alice, -for Mr. Maynard had three other wives, and it was more than he could do -to support them all properly. - -“I called one day on Mrs. Maynard to broach the matter to her. She -received me very kindly, and entered into my views at once. She was -anxious, she said, for Alice to get married, for then she would be better -off. I asked her how she would like her to marry my husband, and told her -that we were very comfortably off—as you know we are—and that my husband -owned his house and lot, and was doing a very good business, and, of -course, ought to take another wife. Would she agree to my proposal, and -let me mention Alice to him? - -“She said she herself had no objection, but that perhaps my husband might -not like Alice, or Alice might not like him. - -“I felt indignant at the idea that any girl should hesitate to marry _my_ -husband, and I told Sister Maynard that there could not possibly be any -hesitation on Alice’s part. ‘I’m sure I have no objection,’ she said, -‘if Alice has none. I should only be too happy to see my child in a more -comfortable home.’ - -“Well, then, we’ll consider the matter settled, I said, and asked if -I could see Alice; so her mother called her in, and I proposed to her -for my husband. You can guess, perhaps, how astonished I was when she -actually laughed in my face, and said she should like to consider the -matter! I did not, however, show her what I thought, but assented to what -she said, and invited her to come and take tea with us. - -“My husband had often told me, when I was teasing him about taking -another wife, that he would willingly marry _any_ girl I might choose for -him; and I felt pleased at this, for it showed confidence in my judgment. -So when he came in, later in the day, I told him I had found a wife for -him at last, and that I knew he would like her. ‘Why, Ann,’ he said, ‘I -do believe you are going crazy over the wife question; but if you are, I -do not want you to drive me crazy also.’ I really thought this was too -bad, after all my trouble for him; but nevertheless I was resolved that -the marriage should take place. - -“Three days after that, in accordance with my invitation, Alice came to -take tea with us, and I fixed her up to look nice. When she was ready, I -took her into the parlour to introduce her to my husband, who was sitting -there reading. Henry, I said, this is Miss Maynard—the young lady of whom -I spoke to you the other day. He looked up from his paper, and, to my -astonishment, said, ‘Why, Alice, my girl, how do you do? How are mother -and father?’ - -“‘What, I said, do you know Alice, Henry?’” - -“‘Certainly I do,” he answered; ‘Alice and I have met many times before -this, haven’t we, Alice?’ - -“‘Yes, sir,’ she said, and, oh, _so_ demurely. Why, Sister Stenhouse, I -began to think that I had actually been deceived, and that while I had -innocently supposed that I had found out the girl myself, it was the very -one upon whom my husband had had his eye for a long while past. I watched -them, however, very narrowly, for I was determined that if my husband had -really taken a fancy for the girl he should never have her.” - -“Why, that would have facilitated matters, would it not?” I said. - -“Do you think,” she replied, “that I would have allowed them to marry if -they loved each other? No, indeed! The Saints marry from principle and -not from love, as Brother Brigham has often told us. I hope you believe -me, dear, when I say that I am not at all a jealous woman, but if my -husband dared to fall in love with a girl and to hide it from me, I could -not stand it I am sure. No! _principle_ is the only thing—there can be -no love in Polygamy. If a man loved his wife, do you think he could have -the heart to pain her by taking another? On the other hand, it is because -of the love which still remains in their hearts, and which they weary -themselves to crush out, that so many of the first wives are miserable. -But I was going to tell you about Alice. I was mistaken in thinking that -my husband had been paying her any attentions. It appeared that he was -acquainted with her father and mother, and that at their house he had -frequently seen the child Alice, but never supposed she was the Miss -Maynard of whom I had spoken. But now they had come together at last he -took to her kindly and she to him, and really I sometimes almost thought -they wished to ignore me altogether. - -“I did not let them waste much time fussing with one another, but they -got on very rapidly, nevertheless; and before I had time to arrange -matters properly, my husband told me that _to please me_ he was going to -marry Alice. Only fancy me being pleased at him marrying Alice! Why, it -wasn’t to please myself that I introduced the child to him, but simply -because, if he _must_ have another wife, it was certainly best for me -to choose one whom I could manage. However, they were married not long -after, and really I think I never was more disgusted in my life than I -was on that occasion. I was not jealous, but I do think he might have -paid her a little less attention. In fact I quite regretted, when it was -too late, that I had ever brought them together. - -“The Mormon men always do make themselves silly over their new wives, -and I did not expect my husband to be an exception to the rule; but I -was perfectly astonished at the change that took place in Alice. Instead -of the quiet, modest girl she used to be, she put on all sorts of airs, -and treated me as if I were of not the slightest consequence. I couldn’t -stand that, and I resolved, if it were only to take the pride out of her, -I would get my husband to marry another wife still. He wouldn’t object, -I knew, for he takes life very easily, and he has a great respect for -my opinion. Besides which, he is quite well enough off to support three -wives; and as a matter of duty, if nothing else, he ought to do so. That -would soon bring Miss Alice to a proper state of mind, and she needed -something of the sort; for, do you know, she had actually made that -silly husband of mine think that she ought to be treated with the same -consideration as myself.” - -“Well, but,” I said, “if the principle of polygamy is of God, it is only -just that all the wives should be treated alike. If my husband were to -marry another woman, much as it would pain me, I should treat her as an -equal.” - -“Then,” she replied, “if you do so you will find that the first wives -will have nothing to do with you. You will find, when you come to be -better acquainted with the people here, that the first wives do not -waste much love over the polygamic wives; and, of course, as a rule, -the polygamic wives detest the first wives. Then the plural wives get -together and talk all manner of evil about the first wives, who do pretty -much the same in respect to them. It is only natural that they should do -so. - -“But I was going to tell you,” she continued, “how I selected the third -wife. There was an emigrant-train expected in every day; and you know, -when the emigrants arrive, all those women who want wives for their -husbands, and all those men who want to choose for themselves, go down -to the camping-ground, and if they see a girl who takes their fancy they -ask her if she has got a place to go to, and if she has not they offer to -receive her themselves. There are hundreds of young girls who arrive here -without any one to look after them, and who are only too glad to accept a -home for the winter. Now this was exactly what I did. I went down to the -camp and looked round for myself, and at last my eyes rested upon a young -woman of about thirty or thirty-five years of age, who I thought would -be a more suitable wife for my husband than that giggling chit that I -chose for him at first. I decided at once that she would do, so I went up -to her and asked her if she had any friends. She said she had a brother -living in the City; but when I explained to her how we were situated, and -said that I should like her to come and stay with us till she could look -round a little for herself, she agreed at once. Now—I thought—Miss Alice, -we shall see whether you are going to have things all your own way any -longer! - -“I told her, however, as well as my husband, that I had brought home -a sister to stay with us a while, and they received her very kindly, -and she soon made herself very useful and agreeable to us all. The -bishop came and talked to my husband, and he made no difficulty at all -in acceding to my wishes, and before long he made our visitor wife -number three; and Alice, as a matter of course, lost a good deal of her -influence over him. For my own part, I am much more comfortable. The two -plural wives do nearly all the work, and I have little else to do than -superintend the household and enjoy myself. My husband is one of those -quiet sort of men who never interfere with domestic affairs, and I have -matters pretty much my own way now. The only thing that annoys me is -his fondness for Alice, who makes herself appear most amiable _to him_, -deceitful thing! I can’t break him of that, but I often tell him that -he will find her out some day. He tells me that he looks upon her as a -child, and feels like a father towards her; no woman, he says, can ever -have his love but me. That sounds all very well; but as to believing it, -that is quite another thing—I keep my eye on them, and watch them well.” - -“But,” I said, “it appears to me that it would have been far better -if you had never given him another wife at all, you would have been -saved from annoyance, and the privacy of your home would not have been -disturbed. I am the more surprised, as your husband did not himself -desire it.” - -“When you understand better the order of the kingdom, you will not speak -in that way,” she said. “Do you suppose that I shall be satisfied to be -the wife of a man who could not exalt me in the celestial kingdom—a man -with only one wife? Why I have often told my husband that if he did not -get other wives I would leave. It is necessary for a man to have two -wives, at least, if he would enter into the celestial kingdom. That is -why I have been so anxious to get wives for my husband. At the same time -there is no necessity for him to fall in love, and act in a silly way -over them. The only way in such a case is to set one to watch the other, -and then they are pretty certain to keep the old man straight. You think, -perhaps, that I don’t feel all this, but you must not be deceived by -appearances. I try to do the will of heaven with a smile on my face; and -the brethren have often told me that if the other sisters were more like -me they would not have so much difficulty in establishing Polygamy. But, -dear me, Sister Stenhouse, what a long talk we’ve had! I’ll come and see -you soon again, but I must hasten away now, for my husband will be home -to supper by this time.” - -So she left me wondering over her strange story of a woman’s experience -in supplying her own husband with wives. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. - -SOCIAL LIFE IN SALT LAKE CITY:—BALL-ROOMS, “WALL-FLOWERS,” AND DIVORCE. - - -We had not been long in Salt Lake City before the ball-season commenced. -These balls afford splendid opportunities to the men for flirting with -the girls. No matter how old and homely a man is, he thinks that he has -as much right to flirt and dance with the girls as the youngest boy; for -they all look upon themselves and each other as boys and single men, even -if they have a dozen wives. There is no limit to their “privileges.” -They are always in the market. Brigham, in his public discourses, has -said that the brethren “are all young men under a hundred years of age.” -With such an extended privilege, it is here in Utah that hoary Winter -and smiling May can be seen galloping forth in the dance together—a -thoughtful subject for the artist’s pencil. - -It is of no consequence how much a man may flirt in the presence of his -wife or wives. They must not presume to say one word to him about it; for -the husband is free to do whatever he likes. He is one of the lords of -creation. He is master of his wives, of his children. Then, how can one -of his own dare to call in question anything he may think fit to do? She -_may_, it is true, do so; but she must take the consequences of that rash -act. - -Oh! how I loathe even the very remembrance of those hateful ball-rooms, -where I have seen so many unhappy wives, and have heard so many tales of -sorrow. For, while the wives would be sitting as “wall-flowers” along -the sides of the halls, after having danced the first dance with their -husbands, as a matter of form, I have heard them many times telling each -other about what they had seen their husbands doing during the evening; -and how they had been compelled to pay attention to some simpering girl -that their husbands chanced to fancy; and how they had had to do it for -peace sake, and appear to be satisfied. - -I do not mean to say that I did not like these social amusements myself, -for I did; and could, under other circumstances, have enjoyed them -very much. But I had been told so many things of the unpleasantness -of a ball-room in Salt Lake City—at least, to married women—that my -apprehensions were aroused. But all that was ever told me never half came -up to the truth; nor can I possibly myself give the reader any correct -idea of the heartaches and sorrows which these scenes bring to the wives -of Mormons. - -It is quite a common thing for married men to go with young girls to -these balls. The majority of the men, however, prefer to take their first -wives with them at the same time; but it is not infrequent to hear a lady -say in the ball-room, “My husband has brought his girl here to-night; -but I have not spoken one word to her, nor will I do so.” Yet, if any -one were to ask these same ladies if they believed that Polygamy was -right, they would say, “Certainly I do; but I do not like _her_”—and this -simply because their husbands had paid _her_ attentions. This seems like -inconsistency; but it serves to show what conflicting feelings Mormon -women have to contend with. - -The men should hear what their wives say about them in the ball-rooms, -and the hatred they feel for them. I have seen some women sitting quietly -eyeing their husbands, as they danced or flirted with their younger -loves, till their cup of indignation was full. Then they would make for -the dressing-rooms, where their anger would burst upon the ears of a -group of eager listeners, who were seemingly pleased to learn that some -one else was suffering as well as themselves. A half-repressed threat, “I -will be even with him” has escaped the lips of those who, before that, -had passed for being happily situated. - -Where new matrimonial alliances are continually taking place, the arrival -of a gentleman, with his wife, wives, or a maiden, in the ball-room, -is never remarked; and, not infrequently, different wives arrive at -different hours during the evenings, as it suits their convenience; and -thus it would be difficult to say who came with their “lord.” Besides, -no observation is made if a lady thus enters the ball-room alone, though -it is expected that her husband is aware of her coming. This coming -alone, however, is not a common habit; but, as it is admissible, it does -occasionally happen that a husband is dancing or enjoying himself in the -ball-room with his last _fiancée_, when a vigilant pair of eyes searches -over the room and lights upon the happy “lord.” When eyes like these -encounter the eyes they seek, a change is seen, and the youthful airiness -of the gentleman vanishes, and sober looks follow the gaiety of the -earlier hour. - -I met President Heber C. Kimball at one of these balls, soon after my -arrival. He said that he would introduce me to _his wife_. Every one -liked Heber for his outspoken, honest bluntness. He took me up the hall -and introduced me to five wives in succession! “Now,” said he, “I think -I’ll quit; for I fancy you are not over strong in the faith.” - -I asked, “Are these all you have got?” - -“O dear, no,” he said: “I have _a few more at home_, and _about fifty -more_ scattered over the earth somewhere. I have never seen them since -they were sealed to me in Nauvoo, and I hope I never shall again.” - -I thought this was terrible; but it was only the beginning of worse -things. - -After this winter, I had very little peace; for the women were constantly -talking to me about my husband getting another wife. He held out, -however, for five years; but at last he “felt that it was his duty to do -so,” and I was silly enough to allow that “he was not living up to his -religion” unless he took an extra wife. - -I shall never forget those ball-room scenes. Even to this day, when -I chance to listen to tunes which I used to hear played in those -times, they grate terribly upon my ear, and bring back so many sad -recollections, that I want to get away from the sound of them as quickly -as possible, for they are more than I can endure. Bygone recollections -are often recalled by trifles such as this. - -A few months ago I attended a ball in Salt Lake City. It was the first I -had been to since I withdrew from the Church; and of course it was got up -by the “Liberal Party.” I felt free and happy, for there was nothing to -annoy or disturb me. Suddenly the band struck up a tune which I had heard -while attending the Mormon balls. It sounded like the death-knell of all -my pleasant feelings, and aroused memories of the past which were so -intensely painful that I could not rally from the depression that I felt -for the rest of the evening. I had heard that tune before, and many like -it, and had even danced to it, while my heart was breaking. - -Let me ask my lady readers—those, I mean, who have never been in Utah. -Ladies, how do you think you would feel if _you_ were kept waiting long -after the hour of midnight, far away into the morning, until your -husbands had got through with their dancing and flirting, while your own -hearts were breaking? I think I hear you say, “I would not stand it.” You -do not know, I assure you, _what_ you would do under the circumstances. -How can you possibly judge what the feelings of a Mormon woman are, who -has been taught to believe that “her desire shall be unto her husband, -_and he shall rule over her_.” - -In very early days Brigham built a theatre, and a very fair amount of -histrionic talent was developed among the Saints. The Social Hall, in -which were held balls, public entertainments, and other amusements, was -used for histrionic performances before the theatre was built. Brigham -owned the theatre. Money was to be made out of it; and the chance of -making money Brother Brigham never permitted to slip through his fingers. -Brigham’s eyes were sharp enough to see that a theatre would be to him a -source of profit, but he did not look far enough. That theatre—under the -immediate direction of the Prophet, with his own daughters acting in it, -with the plays which were performed under his own censorship—has been one -of the many causes which have perceptibly, although perhaps indirectly, -shaken the hold which Mormonism had upon many a woman’s mind. - -A man would probably witness the performance of a play and return from -the theatre with no other thought than the remembrance of an hour’s -amusement. But not so a woman. To her the play suggested something -more, and her daughters would share her thoughts. Daily and hourly, it -might be, the effects of Polygamy would be brought under their notice -as a matter affecting themselves personally. They might be firm in the -faith, but the observant instincts of their sex could never be wholly -crushed. They would notice the neglect which wives endured even from good -husbands; they would see a man leaving the wife of his youth, the mother -of his children, and, careless of the cruel wrong he did her, leave her -in lonely sorrow while he was spending his time in love-making with -some young girl who might have been his daughter. They would see a wife -crushing out from her heart the holiest impulses which God had implanted -there, striving to destroy all affection for him whose dearest treasure -that affection should have been, because, indeed, Polygamy could not -exist with love. They would see and know, and themselves personally feel, -the degradation and misery of the “_Celestial_ Order of Marriage;” and -that to them would be the practical picture of life. - -But in the theatre—short-sighted Brigham, to allow it to be so!—another -picture would be presented for their consideration; a picture it might -be, ideal in its details and surroundings, but true to the letter in -the lesson which it conveyed and the thoughts which it suggested. The -disgusting, the brutalizing cruelties of Polygamy, were never represented -on the stage. Thoughts so coarse, so sensual, could never inspire the -true poet’s pen. No; the tale of love, as the poet tells it, is all that -is refined, and chaste, and delicate, and pure; the commingling of two -souls, the unison of two loving hearts, the hopes, the aspirations, the -tender joyful sorrows of two fond natures—of _two alone_! Such is the -picture presented as the ideal of the beautiful and of the good. Then, -too, the delicate attentions of the devoted lover, his happiness even in -the shadow of a smile from _her_, the lofty pedestal upon which to his -imagination _she_ stands, a queen and peerless; or the confiding love of -the heroine of the story; blushingly confessing to herself that there is -_one_ heart on earth which is all her own, and in which none but herself -can ever rule or reign. - -The Mormon women are not devoid of common sense, nor are they destitute -of those quick perceptions which, under all circumstances, distinguish -their sex. They see on the stage representations of the happiness -attendant upon love and marriage, such as God ordained, and such as finds -a response in every heart; and they compare such pleasant pictures with -what they know and have witnessed of Polygamy, and they draw painful -inferences therefrom. Their faith may be proof against apostasy, but the -impression left upon their minds produces its effect notwithstanding. - -The spring came on, and our prospects began to brighten. My husband not -only found remunerative employment for his pen in Salt Lake City, but -was also engaged as special correspondent to the _New York Herald_ and -several of the California papers. - -One morning, a countryman, roughly dressed and looking the picture of -care, called at our house and asked to see Mr. Stenhouse. I gazed at him -for a moment, for I thought there was something familiar in the sound of -his voice. He looked at me, and I at once recognized him; it was Monsieur -Balif himself, in whose house we had lived in Switzerland. But, oh, how -changed he was! Once a refined, handsome, gentlemanly man; now a mere -wreck of his former self, careworn, rough-looking, poorly clad. He and -his family had been in Utah six years, and had suffered all the ills that -poverty can induce: the change which was wrought in him was so great, -that for some moments I was so overcome by my feelings that I could not -utter a word. In the few short years which had elapsed since I saw him in -his own bright and happy home, he had become quite an old man. I hardly -dared to ask about his wife, for I feared what his answer might be; but -after a little while he told me that she had sent her love, and would -like to see me whenever I could find an opportunity to call upon her. -They lived some miles from the city, but I told him that I would not fail -to visit them whenever it was possible for me to do so. - -I talked a long while with Monsieur Balif, and was much interested in -what he told me. He made no complaints; he had still firm faith in -Mormonism, and said that if the brethren had not dealt fairly by him they -would be answerable to God for what they had done. “Besides,” he added, -“I do not blame them so much, for they are Americans, and would not be -happy if they did not get the advantage in some way.” - -I was anxious to ask him if he had been induced to take another wife, -as he had been in Utah during the “Reformation,” and I did not see -how it was possible for him to have escaped; but while I was thinking -how I might put the question delicately, he saved me the trouble by -himself telling me that he had married the young servant-girl, whom his -wife had taken from Switzerland with her. This information was quite -a shock to me, for I well knew the proud spirit of his wife, and I -could realize what anguish this second marriage must have caused her; -I did not, however, like to question him on the subject. So I turned -the conversation into another channel, and when he went away I sent -kind messages to Madame Balif, saying that I would seize the very first -opportunity of hearing from her own lips the story of all they had gone -through. - -Here, again, I found the trail of that monster—Polygamy. This time in the -home of my dearest friend. From the moment when she and I had mingled our -tears together in Switzerland, over that abomination, life had been to me -one long, weary, sickening battle with my own heart; one futile attempt -to fully convince myself that Polygamy was right and that I was wrong. I -certainly did believe, or thought that I believed, the doctrine was true. -But at times nature prevailed in the struggle, and womanly indignation -and anger rose in arms against faith. These feelings were, however, at -once and unhesitatingly subdued; faith returned triumphant, and I was -again convinced that the Revelation _must_ have been the will of the -Lord, and that my duty was to submit, but not to question. In moments -of comparative self-control I had even tried, as a Missionary’s wife, -to justify it to others, but only to witness an outburst of sorrow and -anger, and to feel still more the weakness of my position. That had been -my own experience; but how had the time passed with my dear old friend? -She must, no doubt, have been as greatly disappointed as I was when she -came to Zion and saw things as they really were, and not as they had been -represented to us. - -My own eyes had certainly been opened not a little since my arrival. -Instead of finding the people enjoying the comforts and blessings of -life, which we had been taught were strewn around them in profuse -abundance, we found among all but the leading families the greatest -poverty and privation. The majority of the people were living in little -log or adobe houses, of one or at the utmost two rooms, of most primitive -construction, and without the slightest convenience of any description. -Their food was bread and molasses, and it might be an occasional morsel -of meat; but many of them scarcely ever indulged in the latter, or in any -article of grocery, for months at a time. Their floors and walls were -bare, and their clothing poor and scanty; and yet, destitute as they were -of all the comforts and conveniences of life, they were conscientiously -endeavouring like good Saints to practise Polygamy, because, as they -believed, the Lord had commanded it. - -In respect to education they were in even a worse position. Books, -pictures, and periodicals of any kind, there were none, with the -exception of that dreary organ of the church, the _Deseret News_—the -soporific influence of which some wicked Apostate has likened to a -dose of Winslow’s soothing syrup. Brigham Young, himself an illiterate -man, and the leading Elders, frowned upon every attempt to raise the -intellectual _status_ of the people; and so little encouragement was -given, that no one could afford to keep school. The consequence was, -that the boys and girls grew up with little more education than their -own sense of necessity taught them to acquire for themselves; and it was -not until very recently that any suitable efforts were made to supply -trained teachers and to open schools in which a thorough education could -be afforded. - -I have already mentioned the sermons of the Tabernacle, and observed -how little calculated they were to elevate the character or cultivate -the minds of the people. I have before me as I write a choice morsel -extracted from one of the sermons of Heber C. Kimball, which I think I -must give for the reader’s benefit. - -Fancy an “Apostle!” thus addressing a large and mixed congregation of -men, women, and children:— - -“Here are some edicated men jest under my nose. They come here and they -think they know more than I do, and then they git the big head, and it -swells and swells until it gits like the old woman’s squash—you go to -touch it and it goes ker-smash; and when you look for the man, why he -ain’t thar. They’re jest like so many pots in a furnace—yer know I’ve -been a potter in my time—almighty thin and almighty big; and when they’re -sot up the heat makes ’em smoke a little, and then they collapse and -tumble in, and they aint no whar.” - -This was Heber’s style in general. Next to making modest people blush, -nothing pleased him better than to annoy or ridicule any one who had -the smallest pretensions to education; and yet naturally Heber was -a kind-hearted man. Brigham’s style is very little better, and the -substance of his discourses quite as bad. I will give a very favourable -specimen, taken from a sermon on Polygamy, delivered some years ago, -touched up and corrected, and published in the official organ, the -_Deseret News_:— - -“Men will say, ‘My wife, though a most excellent woman, has not seen a -happy day since I took my second wife.’ ‘No, not a happy day for a year,’ -says one; and another has not seen a happy day for five years. - -“I am going to set every woman at liberty, and say to them, Now go -your way—my women with the rest; go your way. And my wives have got to -do one of two things; either round up their shoulders to endure the -afflictions of this world and live their religion, or they must leave; -for I will not have them about me. I will go into heaven alone rather -than have scratching and fighting around me. I will set all at liberty. -‘What, first wife too!’ Yes, I will liberate you all. I know there is -no cessation to the everlasting whinings of many of the women in this -territory; I am satisfied that this is the case; and if the women will -turn from the commandments of God, and continue to despise the order of -heaven, I will pray that the curse of the Almighty may be close to their -heels, and that it may be following them all the day long. And those that -enter into it (the celestial order) and are faithful, I will promise -them that they shall be queens in heaven and rulers to all eternity. - -“Now if any of you will deny the plurality of wives, and continue to do -so, I promise that you will be damned.” - -This was sweet language for a Prophet and a Saint to utter, and yet it is -not half so coarse or improper as some whole sermons that I have listened -to from the lips of Brother Brigham and the other leaders of the Church. - -The Apostle Orson Pratt is the only one who has dared, in the presence of -Brigham, to say that education was a proper thing, and that there were -many books which would be of good service to the Saints, if they obtained -and studied them. On one occasion, Brigham arose in ire, and said,— - -“The professor has told you that there are many books in the world, and -I tell you that there are many people there. He says there is something -in all these books; I say each of those persons has got a name. It would -do you just as much good to learn those somebodies’ names as it would to -read those books. Five minutes’ revelation would teach me more truth than -all this pack of nonsense that I should have packed away in my unlucky -brains from books.” - -But the Prophet has changed with the times, and there are now in Utah -very good schools, both Mormon and Gentile, but none of them are -_free_-schools. Bishop Taylor once said in a public lecture that they -were “destructive to the best interests of the community;” and the -bishop’s “lord” in the Lion-House is exactly of the same opinion, for he -has repeatedly declared that “there _shall be no_ ‘free-schools’ within -his Saintly ‘Kingdom’ on earth.” Nevertheless, Brother Brigham and his -“_Infallible_ Priesthood” are at last beginning to discover that although -the night of ignorance and superstition may hate the clear daylight of -truth and knowledge, when the great Ruler of all commands the light to -come forth it is not in the power of man, with all his boasting, to -forbid the sun to shine upon the dark places of the earth. - -Balls, parties, and the theatre provided amusement for the people in Salt -Lake City itself; but in the Settlements there was little else in the -shape of recreation than idle gossip or the harangues of the Tabernacle. - -At the time when we went to Utah, Mormon society was slowly recovering -from that terrible marrying mania which had set in during the -“Reformation,” and a season of divorce was the result. - -The authorities at that time, as I have already observed, had urged every -person, without distinction, into Polygamy. Men and women had been forced -to marry one another without any respect to affection or fitness, and the -result was that hundreds of marriages were entered into which made those -who contracted them miserable for life, but the consequences of which -they could not avoid. At the same time not a few were divorced almost -immediately after they were married, and these things were a matter of -daily occurrence. Brigham Young, with his eye perpetually on the dollar, -finding that his marrying scheme, like many other of his “divine” plans, -was a failure, saw at once that quite a nice little sum might be realized -by charging a fee for divorces. Nothing was charged for marrying; but if -the people insisted on having divorces, why, the best, and certainly the -most profitable thing, was to make them pay for them. When we first went -to Utah, the Prophet was doing quite a flourishing business in that line. -Any one could get a divorce for ten dollars; and Brigham publicly in the -Tabernacle jested about it, and said that the money thus obtained came -in very conveniently as pin-money for his wives, though I doubt if they -ever received a dollar of it. He added, that so far as “eternity” was -concerned, these divorces were not worth the paper they were written on; -the people had married for eternity, and in eternity they would have to -live together, whether they liked it or not. He says the same to-day; but -still he sells his divorces, and gathers in the ten dollars. - -As I have written so much of the troubles of the sisters, perhaps it will -be as well to give the reader an idea of the trials and difficulties -which the brethren had to contend with when they first attempted the -introduction of Polygamy. To do this, I shall give the correspondence -of Miss Martha Brotherton, formerly of Manchester, England, relating to -a very interesting courtship between herself and Brigham Young. I would -have the reader remark that this correspondence distinctly proves that -Polygamy was taught by the heads of the church _before_ the Prophet -received the professed revelation. - -This account was published just a year, lacking one day, before the -revelation on Polygamy was given to Joseph Smith. It was published in -Boston, in book form, in 1842. The revelation was given at Nauvoo, on the -12th of July 1843. - -The following is the letter referred to:[2]— - - “ST. LOUIS, Missouri, July 13, A.D. 1842. - - “DEAR SIR,—I left Warsaw a short time since for this city, and - having been called upon by you, through the _Sangamo Journal_, - to come out and disclose to the world the facts of the case - in relation to certain propositions made to me, at Nauvoo, by - some of the Mormon leaders, I now proceed to respond to the - call, and discharge what I consider to be a duty devolving - upon me as an innocent, but insulted and abused female. I - had been at Nauvoo nearly three weeks, during which time my - father’s family received frequent visits from Elders Brigham - Young and Heber C. Kimball, two of the Mormon Apostles; when, - early one morning, they both came to my brother-in-law’s (John - McIlwrick’s) house, at which place I was then on a visit, and - particularly requested me to go and spend a few days with them. - I told them I could not at that time, as my brother-in-law was - not at home; however, they urged me to go the next day and - spend one day with them. The day being fine, I accordingly - went. When I arrived at the foot of the hill, Young and Kimball - were standing conversing together. They both came to me, and - after several flattering compliments, Kimball wished me to - go to his house first. I said it was immaterial to me, and - went accordingly. We had not, however, gone many steps when - Young suddenly stopped, and said he would go to that brother’s - (pointing to a little log hut a few yards distant), and tell - him that you (speaking to Kimball) and Brother Glover, or - Grover (I do not remember which) will value his land. When he - had gone, Kimball turned to me and said, ‘Martha, I want you - to say to my wife, when you go to my house, that you want to - buy some things at Joseph’s store (Joseph Smith’s), and I will - say I am going with you to show you the way. You know you want - to see the Prophet, and you will then have an opportunity.’ I - made no reply. Young again made his appearance, and the subject - was dropped. We soon reached Kimball’s house, when Young took - his leave, saying, ‘I shall see you again, Martha.’ I remained - at Kimball’s nearly an hour; when Kimball, seeing I would not - tell the lies he wished me to, told them to his wife himself. - He then went and whispered in her ear, and asked if that would - please her. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘or I can go along with you and - Martha.’ ‘No,’ said he, ‘I have some business to do, and I - will call for you afterwards to go with me to the debate,’ - meaning the debate between yourself and Joseph. To this she - consented. So Kimball and I went to the store together. As - we were going along, he said, ‘Sister Martha, are you willing - to do all that the Prophet requires you to do?’ I said, I - believed I was—thinking, of course, he would require nothing - wrong. ‘Then,’ said he, ‘are you ready to take counsel?’ I - answered in the affirmative, thinking of the great and glorious - blessings that had been pronounced upon my head if I adhered - to the counsel of those placed over me in the Lord. ‘Well,’ - said he ‘there are many things revealed in these last days - that the world would laugh and scoff at; but unto us is given - to know the mysteries of the kingdom.’ He further observed, - ‘Martha, you must learn to hold your tongue, and it will be - well with you. You will see Joseph, and very likely will have - some conversation with him, and he will tell you what you shall - do.’ When we reached the building, he led me up some stairs - to a small room, the door of which was locked, and on it the - following inscription, ‘Positively no admittance.’ He observed, - ‘Ah! Brother Joseph must be sick, for, strange to say, he is - not here. Come down into the tithing-office, Martha.’ He then - left me in the tithing-office and went out, I know not where. - In this office were two men writing, one of whom, William - Clayton, I had seen in England; the other I did not know. Young - came in and seated himself before me, and asked where Kimball - was. I said he had gone out. He said it was all right. Soon - after, Joseph came in and spoke to one of the clerks, and then - went upstairs, followed by Young. Immediately after, Kimball - came in. ‘Now Martha,’ said he, ‘the Prophet has come; come - upstairs.’ I went, and we found Young and the Prophet alone. - I was introduced to the Prophet by Young. Joseph offered me - his seat, and, to my astonishment, the moment I was seated, - Joseph and Kimball walked out of the room, and left me with - Young, who arose, locked the door, closed the window, and drew - the curtain. He then came and sat before me and said, ‘This - is our private room, Martha.’ ‘Indeed, sir,’ said I; ‘I must - be highly honoured to be permitted to enter it.’ He smiled, - and then proceeded, ‘Sister Martha, I want to ask you a few - questions; will you answer them?’ ‘Yes, sir,’ said I. ‘And - will you promise me not to mention them to any one?’ ‘If it - is your desire, sir,’ said I, ‘I will not.’ ‘And you will not - think any the worse of me for it; will you, Martha?’ said he. - ‘No, sir,’ I replied. ‘Well,’ said he, ‘what are your feelings - toward me?’ I replied, ‘My feelings are just the same toward - you that they ever were, sir.’ ‘But, to come to the point - more closely,’ said he, ‘have not you an affection for me, - that, were it lawful and right, you would accept of me for - your husband and companion?’ My feelings at this moment were - indescribable. God only knows them. What, thought I, are these - men, that I thought almost perfection itself, deceivers, and - is all my fancied happiness but a dream? ’Twas even so; but - my next thought was, which is the best way for me to act at - this time? If I say _No_, they may do as they think proper; - and to say _Yes_, I never would. So I considered it best to - ask for time to think and pray about it. I therefore said, - ‘If it was lawful and right, perhaps I might; but you know, - sir, it is not.’ ‘Well, but,’ said he, ‘Brother Joseph has - had a revelation from God that it is lawful and right for a - man to have two wives; for, as it was in the days of Abraham, - so it shall be in these last days, and whoever is the first - that is willing to take up the cross will receive the greatest - blessings; and, if you will accept of me, I will take you - straight to the celestial kingdom; and, if you will have me - in this world, I will have you in that which is to come, and - Brother Joseph will marry us here, to-day, and you can go home - this evening, and your parents will not know anything about - it.’ ‘Sir,’ said I, ‘I should not like to do anything of the - kind without the permission of my parents.’ ‘Well, but,’ said - he, ‘you are of age, are you not?’ ‘No, sir,’ said I; ‘I shall - not be until the 24th of May.’ ‘Well,’ said he, ‘that does not - make any difference. You will be of age before they know, and - you need not fear. If you will take my counsel, it will be well - with you, for I know it to be right before God; and if there is - any sin in it, I will answer for it. But Brother Joseph wishes - to have some talk with you on the subject; he will explain - things; will you hear him?’ ‘I do not mind,’ said I. ‘Well, but - I want you to say something,’ said he. ‘I want to think about - it,’ said I. ‘Well,’ said he, ‘I will have a kiss, anyhow,’ and - then rose, and said he would bring Joseph. He then unlocked the - door, and took the key, and locked me up alone. He was absent - about ten minutes, and then returned with Joseph. ‘Well,’ said - Young, ‘Sister Martha would be willing if she knew it was - lawful and right before God.’ ‘Well, Martha,’ said Joseph, ‘it - is lawful and right before God—I _know_ it is. Look here, sis; - don’t you believe in me.’ I did not answer. ‘Well, Martha,’ - said Joseph, ‘just go ahead, and do as Brigham wants you to; he - is the best man in the world, except me.’ ‘Oh!’ said Brigham, - ‘then you are as good.’ ‘Yes,’ said Joseph. ‘Well,’ said - Young, ‘we believe Joseph to be a Prophet. I have known him - near eight years, and have always found him the same.’ ‘Yes,’ - said Joseph, ‘and I know that this is lawful and right before - God, and if there is any sin in it, I will answer for it before - God; and I have the keys of the kingdom, and whatever I bind - on earth is bound in heaven, and whatever I loose on earth is - loosed in heaven; and if you will accept of Brigham, you shall - be blessed—God shall bless you, and my blessing shall rest upon - you; and, if you will be led by him, you will do well; for I - know that Brigham will do well by you, and if he don’t do his - duty to you, come to me, and I will make him; and if you do not - like it in a month or two, come to me and I will make you free - again; and if he turns you off, I will take you on.’ ‘Sir,’ - said I, rather warmly, ‘it will be too late to think in a month - or two after. I want time to think first.’ ‘Well, but,’ said - he, ‘the old proverb is, “Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” - and it will be the greatest blessing that was ever bestowed - upon you.’ ‘Yes,’ said Young, ‘and you will never have reason - to repent it—that is, if I do not turn from righteousness, and - that, I trust, I never shall; for I believe God, who has kept - me so long, will continue to keep me faithful. Did you ever see - me act in any way wrong in England, Martha?’ ‘No, sir,’ said - I. ‘No,’ said he; ‘neither can any one else lay anything to my - charge.’ ‘Well, then,’ said Joseph, ‘what are you afraid of, - sis? Come, let me do the business for you.’ ‘Sir,’ said I, ‘do - let me have a little time to think about it, and I will promise - not to mention it to any one.’ ‘Well, but look here,’ said he; - ‘you know a fellow will never be damned for doing the best he - knows how.’ ‘Well, then,’ said I, ‘the best way I know of is, - to go home and think and pray about it.’ ‘Well,’ said Young, ‘I - shall leave it with Brother Joseph, whether it would be best - for you to have time or not.’ ‘Well,’ said Joseph, ‘I see no - harm in her having time to think, if she will not fall into - temptation.’ ‘Oh sir!’ said I, ‘there is no fear of my falling - into temptation.’ ‘Well, but,’ said Brigham, ‘you must promise - me you will never mention it to any one.’ ‘I do promise it,’ - said I. ‘Well,’ said Joseph, ‘you must promise me the same.’ I - promised him the same. ‘Upon your honour,’ said he, ‘you will - not tell.’ ‘No, sir; I will lose my life first,’ said I. ‘Well, - that will do,’ said he; ‘that is the principle we go upon. I - think I can trust you, Martha,’ said he. ‘Yes,’ said I, ‘I - think you ought.’ Joseph said, ‘She looks as if she could keep - a secret.’ I then rose to go, when Joseph commenced to beg - of me again. He said it was the best opportunity they might - have for months, for the room was often engaged. I, however, - had determined what to do. ‘Well,’ said Young, ‘I will see you - to-morrow. I am going to preach at the school-house opposite - your house. I have never preached there yet; you will be there, - I suppose.’ ‘Yes,’ said I. The next day being Sunday, I sat - down, instead of going to meeting, and wrote the conversation, - and gave it to my sister, who was not a little surprised; - but she said it would be best to go to the meeting in the - afternoon. We went, and Young administered the sacrament. After - it was over, I was passing out, and Young stopped me, saying, - ‘Wait, Martha; I am coming.’ I said, ‘I cannot; my sister is - waiting for me.’ He then threw his coat over his shoulders, and - followed me out, and whispered, ‘Have you made up your mind, - Martha?’ ‘Not exactly, sir,’ said I; and we parted. I shall - proceed to a justice of the peace, and make oath to the truth - of these statements, and you are at liberty to make what use of - them you may think best. - - “Yours respectfully, - - “MARTHA A. BROTHERTON. - - “Sworn to and described before me, this 13th day of July, A.D. - 1842. - - “DU BOUFFAY FREMON, - “Justice of the Peace for St. Louis County.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. - -THE ORIGIN OF “THE REFORMATION:”—EXTRAORDINARY DOINGS OF THE SAINTS. - - -The popular idea of Mormonism is that the peculiar feature which -distinguishes it from all other Christian sects is Polygamy. To a certain -extent this is, of course, true; but it is only a partial statement of -the truth. If Polygamy were to be relinquished, it would still be found -that Mormonism had really very little in common with other sects, and -very much that was completely antagonistic to them. - -The confession of faith published by Joseph Smith during his lifetime -would certainly deceive an uninitiated person; and it was in consequence -of the ambiguity of that very document that so many unsuspecting persons -were from the beginning of Mormonism led astray by the teachings of the -Missionaries. The convert was told that the Mormon faith proclaimed the -existence of one true God, but he was not told that Father Adam was -that deity, and that he is “like a well-to-do farmer.” He was told that -Christ was the Son of God, but he was not taught that the Virgin Mary -was “the lawful wife of God the Father,” and that “He intended after the -resurrection to take her again, as one of His own wives, to raise up -immortal spirits in eternity. He was told of faith in a Saviour, he was -not told that men were the only saviours of their wives, and that unless -a woman pleased her husband, and was obedient and was saved _by him_, she -could not be saved at all. He was told that the Saints believed in the -Holy Ghost, but he was not told that “The Holy Ghost is a man; he is one -of the sons of our Father and our God.... You think our Father and our -God is not a lively, sociable, and cheerful man; He is one of the most -lively men that ever lived!” - -And yet, although such fearful and shocking blasphemy was, of course, -hidden from the convert whom it was desirable to impress with the idea -that Mormonism was only a development of Christianity, it was openly -taught in the sermons in the Tabernacle before thousands of people, and -inculcated in the writings of the highest authorities. The passages which -I have just quoted, were preached in public, were taken down in shorthand -were revised under the superintendence of Brigham Young or one of the -chief leaders, were then printed and published in Salt Lake City, and -afterwards reprinted in another form. - -The verbal repetition of such blasphemy as this would be simply painful -and disgusting to any right-minded person. I shall therefore endeavour to -give an idea of some of these outrageous doctrines without entering too -closely into details. Should the reader, however, wish to search and see -for him self, I refer him to the _Journals of Discourses_, the files of -the Church papers, and the publications of the Mormon writers generally. - -One of the first innovations upon the received faith of ordinary -Christians was the doctrine of Polytheism. There can be no doubt that, -even in Joseph’s time, that doctrine was taught, although, as in the -case of Polygamy, all knowledge of it was kept from every one but the -initiated—the “strong men” who could be entrusted with the inner secrets -of the church leaders. That such a doctrine, however, was beginning, -even then, to form part of the faith of the Saints, may be seen in the -following lines upon the occasion of the Prophet’s murder:— - - “Unchanged in death, with a _Saviour’s_ love, - He pleads their cause in the courts above. - His home’s in the sky, _he dwells with the Gods_, - Far from the furious rage of mobs! - ... - He died! he died for those he loved; - _He reigns!_ _He reigns_ in the realms above.” - -Many other instances, even stronger than this, could easily be given. - -The Mormon idea of the other world, while in some respects it differed -from the teachings of certain modern “Spiritualists,” was not altogether -dissimilar. The soul was said to be immortal, and it had three stages of -existence. The first was purely spiritual—the state of the soul _before_ -it came into this world. Spirits in that condition were not perfect, they -must first take a fleshly body, and pass through the trials of life, -before they could attain to the highest state of existence. Hence it was -a solemn duty, as well as their highest privilege, for men to practise -polygamy:—their duty, as by this means, and by this alone, the yet -imperfect souls now waiting to come into this world could ever hope to be -admitted into the “Celestial Kingdom;”—and a privilege,—as all the souls -whom they thus assisted to emigrate would form their own “Kingdoms” in -eternity, over which, as kings and priests, they would reign for ever and -ever. - -The second stage of the soul’s existence is the mortal; with which we all -are sadly well acquainted. The third is the condition subsequent to the -Resurrection, when they believe the flesh and bones will form the raised -body, but the blood will not be there; for the blood is the principle -of corrupt life, and therefore another spirit supplies its place in -heaven. That Christ partook of some broiled fish and part of a honeycomb -is evident from Holy Scripture; the Mormons therefore teach that heaven -will be very much the same as earth, only considerably improved. We shall -not marry there or be given in marriage; hence it is necessary for us -to marry here, and to marry as much as we can, for then in heaven a man -will take the wives whom he married on earth, or who have been sealed to -him by proxy; they will be his queens, and their children will be his -subjects. We shall eat, and drink, and feast, and spend a happy time -generally. We shall henceforth never die; hence we shall ourselves be -gods! - -It was in the pre-existent state, the Mormons teach, that the work of -salvation was first planned; but not after the fashion believed by all -Christians. A grand celestial council was held, at which all the Sons -of God appeared. Michael, the father of all, presided, and stated that -he proposed to create a new world, of which he proceeded to give some -details. His first begotten then arose, and made a speech, in which he -proposed that Michael, his father, should go down to the world, when -created, with Eve, his mother, and do there much after the fashion of -what is related of our first parents in the Book of Genesis; he himself -would descend some thousands of years subsequently, and would lead his -erring brethren back, and save them _from_ their sins. Lucifer, the -second son, then stood forth and unfolded _his_ plan. Jealous of the -popularity of his elder brother, he proposed to save men _in_ their sins. - -Great discussion ensued, in which the unnumbered family of heaven divided -into three parties; one under each of the two elder sons, and the third -standing neutral. After a terrible conflict, Lucifer, the second son, was -defeated, and, with all his followers, was driven out of heaven. They -descended into the abyss, where they founded the infernal kingdom, of -which Lucifer became the chief. He was henceforth known as the Devil. -Adam created his world, and carried out his part of the plan; and in due -time the eldest son, who conquered in heaven, took upon him the form of -flesh, dwelt among men, and was known as their Redeemer. The spirits -who stood neutral during the fight subsequently took upon them forms of -flesh, entering into the children of Ham, and were known as negroes. -Therefore it is, that although the American Indians and all other races -are eligible for the Mormon priesthood, the negro alone could never -attain to that high dignity. - -On the 9th of April, 1852, Brigham Young publicly announced that,— - -“When our father Adam came into the Garden of Eden, he came into it with -a celestial body, and brought Eve, one of his wives, with him. He helped -to make and organize this world. He is Michael the Archangel, the Ancient -of Days, about whom holy men have written and spoken. He is our ‘Father -and our God,’ and the only god with whom we have to do.” - -This public declaration gave great offence, and led to the apostacy of -many. Nevertheless, Brigham Young thinks that just as Adam came down to -Eden and subsequently became a god, in like manner he also himself will -attain to the godhead. Heber C. Kimball, zealous to go a step further, -declared that Brigham _was_ “God,” and that he, Kimball, stood toward -him in the same relation as the Third Person in the Blessed Trinity does -towards the First. - -It will hence be seen that subordination is one of the first principles -of the Mormon faith, and this even in the Church organization of the -Saints has been distinctively shown. For the purposes for which it exists -the Mormon hierarchy could not be surpassed. Of the Priesthood there are -two orders—the Melchisedec and the Aaronic; of which the former ranks -first and highest. The lowest rank in the Church is the “Deacon;” he -looks after the places of meeting, takes up collections, and attends to -other similar duties. Next comes the “Teacher.” He visits the Saints and -takes note of their standing, and reports the same: weakness of faith, -or backwardness in paying tithing, is never overlooked by him. After -him is the “Priest,” and above him is the Elder whose office it is to -preach, baptize, and lay on hands. All these belong to the order of -the Aaronic—or the Levitical priesthood. “Bishops” are simply Church -officers having local jurisdiction. - -The lowest grade in the Melchisedec Priesthood is the “Elder.” He -administers in all the ordinances of the Church. Above him there is -no higher rank as respects the priesthood, but in respect to office -there are various gradations, as, for example, the “High Priests,” the -“Seventies,” and “Bishops,” who occupy positions of authority, although -both go on missions, and also the Apostles. The “Apostles” were chosen in -imitation of the “Twelve” appointed by Christ; and in the same way the -“Seventies,” in imitation of the _seventy_ disciples sent forth to preach -and work miracles. They claim rank next to the Twelve. The “Quorum of the -Apostles” is presided over by the eldest of their number; the “Quorums of -Seventies” are each composed of seventy Elders with a “President” and six -“Counsellors.” The number of “quorums” is unlimited; and over them all -collectively is another president and six counsellors. - -The highest authority in the Church is the “First Presidency;” the three -members of which at present are Brigham Young, George A. Smith, and -Daniel H. Wells,—who are said to represent on earth the three Persons of -the Blessed Trinity! - -As, from “President” Young down to the most illiterate “Elder,” every -one is supposed to be specially inspired, and to be immediately guided -by the gift of the Holy Ghost, education is utterly unnecessary to the -members of the Mormon priesthood; in fact, it has always been looked upon -as an impediment to its possessor. _Obedience_ is considered the highest -qualification, and it was the strict enforcement of obedience on the part -of the ordinary people and the lower grades of the priesthood towards the -higher that alone could have made possible that state of affairs which -existed during the “Reformation.” Hence also it is that Brigham Young and -the leaders are rightly held responsible for the deeds of violence and -fanaticism which their followers may perpetrate; for it is well known -that _no_ Mormon, in a matter of grave importance, would dare to act upon -his own responsibility, and without he felt sure that what he did would -meet with the approbation of those in authority. - -There is another class of Church officer which I had very nearly -forgotten—the Patriarchs. The chief of these is called “The Presiding -Patriarch _over_ the Church;” the rest are “Patriarchs _in_ the Church.” -The office of these dignitaries is to bless the people and to be paid -for their blessings. The price of good blessings is variable. Not long -ago, when money was scarce and payments were made in produce, two dollars -was considered reasonable; and if several were wanted for the same -family, a reduction was made. Hyrum Smith, the original Prophet’s eldest -brother, was the first Patriarch; and to him succeeded “Uncle John,” -as he was popularly called, the eldest brother of Brigham. The present -Patriarch is the son of Hyrum; still a young man, who obtained his office -by inheritance—and this, I believe, is about the only office in the -Church which Brother Brigham has permitted the Smith family to inherit or -enjoy. - -The idea of reviving the old Jewish polity was always uppermost in -the minds of the Mormons. Hence they revived the Priesthood and -High-priesthood in their various forms; a magnificent temple was built in -Nauvoo, just as another temple is now being erected at Salt Lake City; -and so far did they go that it was even determined that the ancient -sacrifices should eventually be restored. - -It is alleged that in Nauvoo, among the Mormons, a secret body of men -had been chosen, who were enrolled, under the most frightful oaths, to -avenge every wrong which might be perpetrated against the Saints. This -band was said to have originated with Sidney Rigdon and Dr. Sampson -Avard, and, as I have somewhere else mentioned, Thomas B. Marsh and Hyde -the present chief of the Apostles both made affidavit that such was the -case, and that the band was sworn to commit the most shocking acts of -vengeance,—and surely Marsh and Hyde ought to know. Various names were -chosen for this “death society.” First the members were called Daughters -of Zion [_from_ Micah iv. 13]. But as it sounded rather ridiculous to -speak of bearded ruffians as “daughters,” that name was abandoned, and -the title “Avenging Angels” substituted; and that, with some other names -then temporarily used, were subsequently dropped for the name “Danites” -[_from_ Genesis xlix. 17], which has since been retained;—not by the -Mormons, for they have ever denied the existence of any such band, but by -the Gentiles. - -It matters very little what the name of such a society might be, so long -as it existed at all; and that it does, and has, existed in _some_ form -cannot reasonably be denied. There probably is not at the present time -any formally enrolled society, but it is quite certain that for many -years past if “The Church” had only dropped a hint that any man’s blood -ought to be shed, that man would have had a very short tenure of his -life. Even Brigham himself said publicly: - -“If men come here and do not behave themselves, they will not only find -the Danites, whom they talk so much about, biting the horses’ heels, but -the scoundrels will find something biting _their_ heels. In my plain -remarks I simply call things by their own names.” - -It is beyond a doubt that, notwithstanding all the social changes and -improvements of late years, the secret police of Salt Lake City are in -matters of crime, as well as _in fact_, though not perhaps nominally, -the successors of the original “death society;”—many of its members are -known to have committed grievous crimes and to have repeatedly dyed their -hands in blood. The shocking deeds that every now and then are divulged -to the world are all of their doing, and no resident of Salt Lake City, -whether Mormon or Gentile, although he might prudently decline to state -his opinions, would in his mind question the fact that it is fear of -consequences, and only because the Saints are “on their good behaviour” -in the sight of the Federal Government, that the hands of these wretches -are withheld from a continuance of their old enormities. - -As might be supposed, the establishment of a secret band of men -professedly ready at a moment to steal, to shed blood, or commit any -crime at the command of their leaders, created great excitement in the -whole State of Missouri, and especially in the vicinity of the Mormon -Settlements. - -Like the Ishmaelites of old, the hands of the Saints were against every -man, and every man’s hand was against them. They were taught that they -were “a chosen nation, a royal priesthood, a peculiar people”—the “Sword -of the Lord and of Gideon” was to be theirs; they were to go forth -conquering and to conquer; and the Gentiles were to be trodden down -beneath their feet. - -As might be expected, trouble immediately arose; the people of Missouri -outraged the Mormons, and the Mormons in return outraged them. Murders, -thefts, and the most shameful atrocities were of daily occurrence, and -the history of those terrible doings would fill a good-sized volume. -Suffice it to say, that the excitement continued and increased, reprisals -being made on both sides; finally the mob was triumphant, and after -committing many fearful excesses it was organized into a militia—the -leading men in authority declaring that the Mormons must either leave the -State or else they must be extirpated by the sword. - -Notwithstanding all this, the Mormons, at all times an industrious -people, were in one sense successful and prosperous; the morality, -however, of some of their leading men was to say the least very -questionable. It was openly argued that the silver and gold were the -Lord’s, and so were the cattle on a thousand hills. The Scripture says -that God has given His people all things richly to enjoy. The Saints were -the people of God:—He had given _them_ all the wealth and substance of -the earth, and therefore it was no sin for them to help themselves; they -were but taking their own. To overreach or defraud their enemies was -facetiously called by the Mormons “milking the Gentiles.” - -Their city called Nauvoo—The Beautiful,—a name given by the Prophet -Joseph and supposed to be of celestial origin, was well laid out and well -built, a costly Temple was nearly complete, and the leaders, at least, -began to show signs of wealth and prosperity. This however was but a -lull before the storm. Writs upon various charges against Joseph and -the leading Elders had always been floating about, and the serving of -some of the later ones had only been prevented by technical difficulties -or the personal fears of the Sheriff. To enter Nauvoo for the purpose -of arresting the Prophet was like bearding the lion in his den; for by -this time a splendidly equipped and drilled militia regiments under the -name of Nauvoo Legion had been organized, and Joseph had been elected -Lieutenant-General. The regiment consisted solely of well-tried Mormons -who were devotedly attached to their leader; besides which, the whole of -the population of the city was at his call at a moment’s notice. - -Into the city of the Saints, as far as was possible to prevent it, no -Gentile was allowed to intrude. It was at risk of life and property that -any one ventured. One oddly original mode of driving out the devoted -stranger is worthy of mention—it was called “_whittling_ a man out of -the town!” Opposite the victim’s door a number of men and overgrown -boys would take up their quarters, each armed with a stout stick of -wood and a huge knife. No sooner did the Gentile appear than the whole -horde gathered in a circle round him. Not a word was uttered, but each -man grasping firmly his stick in his left hand, pointed its other end -to within a few inches of the victim’s face, while with the knife in -his right hand he sliced a shaving out of the wood in such a way as to -bring the point of the knife almost against the face of the unfortunate -man. Wherever he turned they attended him, always preserving the -strictest silence, and never actually touching him. The intolerable -sensation caused by the “whittling” of this strange body-guard, who were -in attendance day and night, and the unpleasantness of seeing half a -score of sharp knives flashing perpetually within an inch of his nose, -generally subdued the strongest-minded Gentile;—few could endure it for -more than a day or so at the utmost: they were glad to leave—“_Whittled -out_ of the town!” - -The evil day, however, at last came. The Prophet, fearing arrest, fled, -but was persuaded to return and deliver himself up. The charge against -him was one for which reasonable bail could be taken; bail was offered, -accepted, and the prisoners discharged. Before leaving court, however, -the Prophet and his brother Hyrum, the Patriarch, were arrested upon -a trumped-up charge of treason, a charge for which it was impossible -that bail should be taken; they were therefore committed to custody in -Carthage jail, under solemn promise from Governor Ford of Illinois that -the State should be answerable for their personal protection. The same -day, however, a mob of over one hundred men, assisted, it is said, by the -militia who were left in charge, burst into the jail and assassinated the -Prophet and his brother. - -As might be supposed, this outrage by no means weakened the Mormon cause; -their Prophet was now a martyr, and his name became more powerful after -death than it could possibly have been had he lived. It was, however, -clearer than ever that nothing could now reconcile the people of Illinois -to the Mormons, and the latter seriously began to think of leaving that -State in a body as they had formerly left Missouri. - -The terrible doings of those times I have no idea of relating just now; -I simply allude to them in order that the reader may understand how, -in the excitement produced in that border-warfare, it was possible for -such strange events as afterwards transpired in Utah to originate. I may -simply add, that the Temple being completed, and the first “Endowments” -given there, the people gathered up what little property they could -rescue from the mob, and under the guidance of Brigham Young, and amidst -privations, sufferings, and outrages of the most painful character, left -the city which they had founded in Illinois, and set out for the Rocky -Mountains, where, beside the Great Salt Lake, they founded their modern -Zion. - -Free now from the violence of mobs and Gentile enmity, it might have been -supposed that the hatred which had so long been part of the Mormon faith -would have died a natural death. The contrary, however, was the case. The -Mexican war was then raging, and, _en route_ to the Rocky Mountains, the -Mormons had received a proposal from the Federal Government that they -should supply a regiment, upon highly advantageous conditions, to join -the United States troops which were then operating in California. This -suggestion was kindly made, for it was thought that the Mormon regiment -thus raised would in reality be only marching their own way in going -to California, and that the outfits, pay, arms, &c., which were to be -theirs, after the year for which they were enrolled had expired, would be -of essential service to them. It was like paying men liberally for making -a journey for their own benefit. - -Notwithstanding all this, Brigham Young and the leaders represented the -transaction in quite another light, and the people were taught that an -engagement, into which they had entered of their own free will, and from -which they had derived substantial advantages, was an act of heartless -cruelty and despotic tyranny on the part of the Government. This feeling -was fostered, until at length the Saints as a body regarded themselves -as a wronged and outraged people, and considered every Gentile, in fact -the whole nation, as their natural enemies. This was perhaps all the more -singular, since, after the vast tract of country, of which Utah forms -a part, had, at the end of the war, been wrested from Mexico, Brigham -Young had been appointed by President Millard Fillmore the first Governor -and Indian Agent of the territory; he was therefore in Federal pay, and -bound, as long as he retained office, to support the Government, or at -the very least not to stir up disaffection. - -Trouble soon arose between Governor Young and the Mormons on one side and -the Judges and United States courts and officials on the other. Once an -armed mob burst into the Supreme Court, and forced the Judge then sitting -to adjourn; at another time a _bonfire_ was made of the books and papers -of the District Courts; then a Judge on the bench was threatened with -personal outrage; and subsequently a _posse_ summoned by legal(!) process -“encamped” for a whole fortnight over against another _posse_ summoned -without legal process, the two bodies burning with bitter hatred and -breathing out threatenings and slaughter. Such a state of affairs could -not, of course, last long. On the one side the wildest statements were -publicly made against the Government; threats which, uttered by a little -band of pioneers against a mighty nation, were perfectly ridiculous, -stirred up the hearts of the Saints. On the other hand it was pretty -certain that Federal troops would have to be sent out to Utah to preserve -the peace of the Territory. The Federal Government was nevertheless -defied, abused, and derided, and the people, thoroughly blinded by their -fanaticism, did not for a moment doubt that, should Governor Young -“declare war,” the United States troops would vanish before the “Armies” -of the Saints like chaff upon the threshing-floor. So absurd does all -this appear that I should really hardly venture to repeat it were it -not that every one in Utah—Mormon and Gentile—knows that I am really -understating facts rather than otherwise. Very soon came a crisis in -Mormon history, for which all the wild sayings and unlawful doings had -been so long paving the way:—“THE REFORMATION” was destined to be the -crowning point of Saintly folly and Saintly sin. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV. - -THE “REIGN OF TERROR” IN UTAH:—THE REFORMATION OF THE SAINTS. - - -The people were now thoroughly excited. Their religious antipathy, their -political hatred—two of the most powerful passions which move individuals -or bodies of men—had been appealed to, and both in public and private -they had been stirred up to a pitch of frenzy which it is hardly possible -at the present time to comprehend. - -There were whisperings now of a most fearful doctrine, calculated not -only to strike terror into the hearts of those whose faith was weakening, -but even to shock with a sense of horror those who only heard of it from -afar—I mean the doctrine of the BLOOD ATONEMENT. - -The Saints had all along been taught to distinguish between murder and -the shedding of innocent blood—the former being spoken of as a crime for -which atonement might be made, but for the latter there was no repentance -on earth—it was an unpardonable sin. They were also taught to distinguish -carefully between sins which might be forgiven, and sins for which pardon -was impossible. Now the difference between murder and shedding innocent -blood is this:—the latter is the crime of killing a Saint, which can -never be forgiven, but by the death of the transgressor; but the former -is of quite a different character. To murder a Gentile may sometimes be -inexpedient, or perhaps even to a certain extent wrong, but it is seldom -if ever a crime, and never an unpardonable sin. - -A friend of mine was in a state of apostacy. The Bishop went to her to -expostulate, and told her that, if he were her husband, he would get rid -of her and take away her children as well—he would not on any account -live with her. - -“Perhaps,” she said, “you would not allow me to live at all?” - -“Certainly not,” he replied. “I would think about as much of killing -you or any other miserable Apostate as I would about killing a cat. If -Brigham Young were to tell me to put you to death, I would do it with the -greatest of pleasure;—and it would be for your good, too.” - -Thus, when the famous Revelation on Polygamy says that a man cannot be -pardoned for shedding innocent blood, it does not mean that he cannot be -pardoned for murdering a Gentile or an Apostate; for that, under some -circumstances, might even be meritorious; but that the murder of a Saint -by one of the brethren cannot under _any_ circumstances be forgiven on -earth, and that his only chance of forgiveness lies in his own blood -being shed as an “atonement.” - -Certain sins cannot be forgiven here on earth—shedding innocent blood, -divulging the secrets of the Endowment House—marital unfaithfulness on -the part of the wife—Apostacy;—these are unpardonable. All other crimes -which Gentiles abhor may become even virtues, if done in the cause of -the Church. I do not, of course, mean to say that the mass of the Mormon -people act up to such atrocious doctrines; for although, when among -themselves, they would admit that the theory was correct, the better -instincts of their nature keep them from ever putting that theory into -practice. But what I do mean to say is, that such doctrines have, over -and over again, been distinctly taught in the plainest words in the -public hearing of thousands; that they _have_ been printed and reprinted -by authority; that they have been practised, and the very highest of the -Mormon leaders have applauded; and that, even at the present moment, -these doctrines form part of the dogmas of the Church. It is this day a -matter of fact, and not a matter of question, that if any Mormon Apostate -were to commit any of the unpardonable sins which I have mentioned, -and if he or she were to be assassinated by a private individual, all -zealous Mormons—all the leaders—would maintain that not only was the deed -justifiable but even meritorious! - -This may seem bad enough, but it is not the worst. The doctrine of the -“BLOOD ATONEMENT” is that the murder of an Apostate is _a deed of love_! -If a Saint sees another leave the Church, or if even he only believes -that his brother’s faith is weakening and that he will apostatize before -long, he knows that the soul of his unbelieving brother will be lost if -he dies in such a state, and that only by his blood being shed is there -any chance of forgiveness for him; it is therefore the kindest action -that he can perform toward him to shed his blood—the doing so is a deed -of truest love. The nearer, the dearer, the more tenderly loved the -sinner is, the greater the affection shown by the shedder of blood—the -action is no longer murder or the shedding of innocent blood, for the -taint of apostacy takes away its innocence—it is making atonement, not a -crime; it is an act of mercy, therefore meritorious. - -These were the terrible teachings which the “Reformation” brought to -light:—they had been whispered before among the elect, and had been -acted upon by the “Avenging Angels,” but before this they had never been -publicly and intelligibly explained. - -Jedediah M. Grant, an enthusiast of the wildest kind; a man without -education or mental discipline of any description; one of the First -Presidency and high in authority among the Saints, had occasion to attend -a meeting which was held at Kaysville, a place about twenty-five miles -distant from Salt Lake City, and he invited some of the Elders to meet -him there to take part in the proceedings. To one of these “Jeddy,” as -he was familiarly called, obligingly lent a mule; he himself did not -accompany the party, but went on before. These elders were pretty well -mounted, and one of them, being a good horseman, made the rest keep up -with him. In consequence of this, when they arrived at Kaysville, the -beasts were heated and tired. The Apostle “Jeddy” watched them but said -nothing. - -Up to a certain point, the meeting passed off pleasantly enough; the -Elders present were “good at testimony” and strong in exhorting the -hearers to faithfulness. Jeddy was the last speaker. He began in his -usual way, but presently warmed up until he became quite excited, and -then proceeded to accuse every one present of all sorts of wrong-doing. -The Elders who had preceded him came in for their full share; he -denounced them for their inconsistency and hypocrisy, and bitterly -upbraided them for running his mule and their own beasts in such a -manner. The Bishop of the place and his counsellors he accused of -inactivity and carelessness; and he called loudly upon every one present -to repent and do their first works; threatening them with the speedy -judgments of Heaven. - -All this was well enough if it had stopped there, for it might have -been taken for just what it was—an ebullition of temper on the part of -“Jeddy,” who was naturally vexed that his mule had been over-heated. -But, like many other manias and epidemics, this Mormon movement began -with a most insignificant trifle, and the spirit of fiery denunciation -became perfectly contagious. Another meeting was held in the course -of a few weeks, and then the mutual accusations of those who were -present became, if possible, more bitter than before; the “Saints” were -denounced as the vilest of sinners, and they were all commanded to be -re-baptized. Accordingly, after the meeting, although it was night and -the weather was cold, a considerable number were immersed by the Elders, -and Jeddy himself was so enthusiastically engaged in the performance, -and he remained in the water so long that he got a thorough chill, and -contracted the disease of which he died. - -Sunday after Sunday similar scenes were repeated in the Tabernacle, -until, had it not been painful, the whole affair would have been -ludicrous in the extreme. Every one had strayed from the path of duty, -and the fact was announced in the strongest terms. People were called -upon by name to publicly confess their sins, and many were then and there -pointed out and accused of crimes of which they were entirely guiltless, -but which they dared not deny. In the midst of all this, the duty of -implicit obedience to the Priesthood and the payment of tithes was loudly -insisted upon. - -The Missionaries were sent out all over the territory, armed with the -full authority of the Priesthood, and also a catechism which, on account -of its obscene character, has since been bought up so successfully by -Brigham that it is doubtful if there is a copy in existence. The Mormons -have a curious way of appointing Missionaries. If a man is weak in the -faith—a depraved, bad man—or if a youth exhibits a disposition to sow his -wild oats a little too luxuriantly, he is sent on his travels to preach -the Gospel; nothing strengthens a man’s faith, it is thought, more than -having to defend it from the opposition of unbelievers, and the enforced -good example which the Missionary is obliged to set will, it is said, -produce a salutary effect upon the exuberance of youth or the depravity -of more mature years. In the present instance many of the Missionaries -thus sent forth were known to be as immoral as they were grossly ignorant. - -There was one terrible meeting at which Brigham himself was put to the -blush. Men of note were there; no one was present who did not belong to -the Priesthood. “Jeddy” held forth, and Heber and Brigham were strong -upon the occasion. In the midst of the proceedings, Brother Brigham, -full of confidence, in the plainest words called upon all who could not -plead guiltless of certain crimes to stand up. Three-fourths of those -present immediately arose. Utterly shocked, the Prophet entered into -explanations; but self-convicted these three-fourths of his hearers stood -conscientiously firm. Even Brigham saw the necessity of taking some -stringent measures. The Saints were told that if they were re-baptized -their sins would be washed away, and they could then say they were -not guilty of the crimes suggested in the catechism. Subsequently the -catechism itself was, as I said, bought up and burnt. - -The burden of every sermon was unquestioning obedience, repentance, -payment of tithing, and above all the taking of more wives. The -Missionaries, without the slightest ceremony, would visit the houses of -respectable Saints, examine them out of the abominable catechism, and -question husbands and wives in the presence of their children about even -their very thoughts, in a manner, and upon subjects, which would amply -have justified their being hung up to the nearest tree; Lynch law was in -fact too good for such atrocities. Wicked ideas, the utterance of which -would have called forth a blush, even if heard from the lips of a drunken -rowdy in a pot-house, were suggested and explained to young children; -while it would have been literally at the risk of life for their parents -to have expostulated; to do so would have shown want of faith, and want -of faith would have justified some fanatical scoundrel in using his knife -or his pistol for the loving purpose of cutting off his brother’s soul -from earth in order to save it in heaven! - -Meanwhile Jedediah did not for a moment cease his exhortations; the work -must be done thoroughly: the Blood-Atonement must not be forgotten. On -one occasion, in the Tabernacle, this crazy fanatic said:— - -“I would advise some of you men here to go to President Young, and -confess your sins, and ask him to take you outside the city and have your -blood shed to atone for your sins.” - -... - -“There are men and women that I would advise to go to the President -immediately, and ask him to appoint a committee to attend to their case; -and then let a place be selected, and let that committee shed their -blood.... - -“I would ask how many covenant-breakers there are in this city and in -this kingdom? I believe that there are a great many; and if they are -covenant-breakers, we need a place designated where we can shed their -blood.” - -... - -“We have been trying long enough with this people, and I go in for -letting the sword of the Almighty be unsheathed, not only in word but _in -deed_.” - -Lest he should be mistaken, he said:— - -“What ought this meek people who keep the commandments of God do unto -them? ‘Why,’ says one, ‘they ought to pray _the Lord_ to kill them,’ I -want to know if you would wish the Lord to come down and do all your -dirty work?.... When a man prays for a thing, he ought to be willing to -perform it himself.... Putting to death the transgressors would exhibit -the law of God, _no matter by whom it was done_.” - -Heber C. Kimball, the “model Saint,” after a speech to the same effect, -in which, as usual, he made use of the most disgusting language, added:— - -“Joseph Smith was God to the inhabitants of the earth when he was among -us, and Brigham is God now!” - -But more shocking than any other was the language of Brigham Young -himself. On the 21st of September, 1856, in a discourse delivered in the -Bowery, Great Salt Lake City, and afterwards reprinted by authority in -the _Journals of Discourses_, vol. iv., pp. 53-4, he said:— - -“The time is coming when justice will be laid to the line and -righteousness to the plummet; when we shall take the old broadsword and -ask, ‘Are you for God?’ and if you are not heartily on the Lord’s side, -_you will be hewn down_!” - -... - -“There are sins that men commit for which they cannot receive forgiveness -in this world or in that which is to come; and if they had their eyes -opened to see their true condition, they would be perfectly willing to -have their blood spilt upon the ground, that the smoke thereof might -ascend to Heaven as an offering for their sins, and the smoking incense -would atone for their sins; whereas, if such is not the case, they will -stick to them and remain with them in the spirit world. - -“I know, when you hear my brethren telling about cutting people off from -the earth, that you consider it is strong doctrine; but it is to save -them, not to destroy them.... - -“I do know that there are sins committed of such a nature that, if the -people did understand the doctrine of salvation, they would tremble -because of their situation. And, furthermore, I know that there are -transgressors who, if they knew themselves, and the only condition upon -which they can obtain forgiveness, would beg of their brethren to shed -their blood, that the smoke thereof might ascend to God as an offering to -appease the wrath that is kindled against them, and that the law might -have its course. I will say, further, I have had men come to me and offer -their lives to atone for their sins. - -“It is true that the blood of the Son of God was shed for sins through -the fall and those committed by men, yet men can commit sins which it can -never remit. As it was in ancient days, so it is in our day; and though -the principles are taught publicly from this stand, still the people do -not understand them; yet the law is precisely the same. There are sins -that can be atoned for by an offering upon an altar, as in ancient days; -and there are sins that the blood of a lamb, of a calf, or of turtle -doves cannot remit, but _they must be atoned for by the blood of the -man_.” - -One would have supposed that even Brigham had now reached the culminating -point of horror and blasphemy. But no;—a month or so later he even -surpassed himself when in a Tabernacle sermon he said:— - -“When will we love our neighbours as ourselves? In the first place, Jesus -said that no man hateth his own flesh. It is admitted by all that every -person loves himself. Now if we do rightly love ourselves, we want to be -saved, and continue to exist; we want to go into the kingdom where we can -enjoy eternity, and see no more sorrow nor death. This is the desire of -every person who believes in God. Now take a person in this congregation -who has knowledge with regard to being saved in the kingdom of our God -and our Father, and being exalted, one who knows and understands the -principles of eternal life, and sees the beauties and excellency of the -eternities before him compared with the vain and foolish things of the -world, and suppose that he is overtaken in a gross fault, that he had -committed a sin that he knows will deprive him of that exaltation which -he desires, and that he cannot attain to it without the shedding of his -blood, and also knows that by having his blood shed he will atone for -that sin and be saved and exalted with the gods, is there a man or a -woman in this house but would say, ‘Shed my blood that I might be saved -and exalted with the gods?’ - -“All mankind love themselves: and let those principles but be known by -an individual, and _he would_ be glad to have his blood shed. This would -be loving ourselves even unto an eternal exaltation. Will you love your -brothers or sisters likewise when they have a sin that cannot be atoned -for without the shedding of their blood? Will you love that man or woman -well enough to shed their blood? _That is what Jesus Christ meant._ He -never told a man or woman to love their enemies in their wickedness, -never. He never meant any such thing; His language is left as it is for -those to read who have the spirit to discern between truth and error; it -was so left for those who can discern the things of God. Jesus Christ -never meant that we should love a wicked man in his wickedness. - -“_I could refer you to plenty of instances where men have been -righteously slain in order to atone for their sins._ I have seen scores -and hundreds of people for whom there would have been a chance (in the -last resurrection there will be) if their lives had been taken and their -blood spilled on the ground as a smoking incense to the Almighty, but -who are now angels to the devil, until our elder brother, Jesus Christ, -raises them up and conquers death, hell, and the grave. - -“I have known a great many men who have left this church, for whom there -is no chance whatever for exaltion, but if their blood had been spilled -it would have been better for them. - -“The wickedness and ignorance of the nations forbid this principle being -in full force, but the time will come when the law of God will be in full -force. This is loving our neighbour as ourselves; if he needs help, _help -him_; if he wants salvation, and it is necessary to spill his blood on -the earth in order that he may be saved, _spill_ it. - -“Any of you who understand the principles of eternity, if you have sinned -a sin requiring the shedding of blood, except the sin unto death, should -not be satisfied or rest until your blood should be spilled, that you -might gain that salvation you desire. That is the way to love mankind.... -Light and darkness cannot dwell together, and so it is with the kingdom -of God. - -“Now, brethren and sisters, will you live your religion? How many -hundreds of times have I asked that question! Will the Latter-Day Saints -live their religion?” - -And so, according to Brigham Young, their Prophet, this was the religion -of the Saints! And the people acted up to the “religion” thus taught: and -the story is so terrible that one dare not even whisper all its details. - -It is no secret that all this was understood _literally_. The wife of one -Elder, when he was absent on a mission, acted unfaithfully towards him. -Her husband took counsel of the authorities, and was reminded that the -shedding of her blood alone could save her. He returned and told her, but -she asked for time, which was readily granted. One day, in a moment of -affection, when she was seated on his knee, he reminded her of her doom, -and suggested that now when their hearts were full of love was a suitable -time for carrying it into execution. She acquiesced, and _out of love_ he -cut her throat from ear to ear. - -In many instances the outrages committed against persons who were known -to be innocent were so revolting that no woman—nay, even no right-minded -man—would venture to more than just allude to them. _A few_, however, and -only a few, and they _by no means the worst_, of the milder cases I will -just mention. - -There was the murder of the Aikin party—six persons—who were killed -on their way to California. The same year a man name Yates was killed -under atrocious circumstances; and Franklin McNeil who had sued Brigham -for false imprisonment and who was killed at his hotel door. There was -Sergeant Pike, and there was Arnold and Drown. There was Price and -William Bryan at Fairfield; there was Almon Babbitt, and Brassfield, -and Dr. Robinson; there was also James Cowdy and his wife and child, -and Margetts and his wife; and many another, too—to say nothing of that -frightful murder at the Mountain Meadows. - -Besides these there is good reason to think that Lieutenant Gunnison and -his party were also victims, although it was said that they were shot by -“Indians.” The Potter and Parrish murders were notorious; Forbes, and -Jones and his mother, might be added to the same list; the dumb boy, -Andrew Bernard; a woman killed by her own husband; Morris the rival -Prophet, and Banks, and four women who belonged to their party; Isaac -Potter, and Charles Wilson, and John Walker. These are but a few. The -death list is too long for me to venture to give it. - -One instance I can give from my own personal knowledge. A sister, who -occasionally does a little work at my house, on one occasion said to -me: “Mrs. Stenhouse, when first I came to this country I lived in the -southern portion of Utah. One day I saw a woman running across the fields -towards our house, pale and trembling. When she came in she looked round -her as if she were frightened, and she asked if any one besides our own -family were present. On being assured that there was no one present whom -she might fear, she said:—‘Two men came to our house late last night -and asked to see my husband, who had already retired. He was in bed, -but they insisted that he must get up, as they had a message from “the -authorities” for him. When they saw him they requested him to go with -them to attend, they said, to some Church business. I became very much -alarmed, for my poor husband had been known to speak rather freely of -late of some of the measures of the Church, but he tried to reassure me, -and finally left the house with the two men. In about an hour after they -came back, bearing between them his lifeless body. They laid him upon the -bed, and then one of them pulled aside the curtain which constituted our -only cupboard, and took therefrom a bake-kettle and stood it beside the -bed, in order to catch the blood that was flowing from a fearful wound -in his throat. They then left the house, telling me to make as little -noise about it as possible, or they might serve me in the same way. The -men were masked, and I cannot tell who they are, but I spent a fearful -night with my poor dead husband.’” This sister added: “Sister Stenhouse, -in those more fearful times we dared not speak to each other about such -things for fear of spies.” - -These were all well-known and notorious instances. I say nothing of -those of whose fate nothing—not even a whisper—was ever heard; and I say -nothing of the frightful “cuttings off” _before_ the Reformation and in -recent years. - -Gentile men and women were _killed_, for hatred; and _that_ “killing” was -no murder, for theirs was not innocent blood. Apostates, and Saints of -doubtful faith, and those who were obnoxious, _had their blood shed_—all -_for love_—and that “cutting off” was also no murder, because to secure -their salvation by cutting their throats was an act of mercy. Can it be -possible that men should thus act and say—and _believe_—that Jesus, the -gentle and merciful Saviour, commanded it when He said: “Thou shalt love -thy neighbour as thyself”? - -All through this Reign of Terror, marrying and giving in marriage was -the order of the day. It mattered not if a man was seventy years of age, -according to Brother Brigham he was still a boy—“the brethren are all -boys until they are a hundred years old”—and some young girl of sixteen, -fifteen, or even younger would be “counselled”—that is, _commanded_—to -marry him. She might even have a sister no older than herself, and then -as likely as not he would take the two to wife, and very probably both -on the same day. The girls were told that to marry a young man was not -a safe thing, for young men were not tried—it was better to marry a -well-tested patriarch, and then their chances of “exaltation” in the -kingdom of heaven were sure and certain. In this way the life-long -happiness of many a girl—little more than a child—was blighted for ever. -At the time of which I speak, every unmarried woman, or girl who could -by the utmost stretch of possibility be thought old enough to marry, was -forced to find a husband, or a husband was immediately found for her, -and without any regard to her wishes was forced upon her. Young men, -and even boys, were forced, not only into marriage, but even polygamy, -and none dared resist. The marrying mania, in fact, was universal and -irresistible—everyone _must_ marry or be given in marriage. So evidently -was this the case that women in jest said that, if one were to hang a -petticoat upon a fence-pole, half a dozen men would flock at once to -marry it! Absurd as this may seem, it was not very far from the truth. -Young men and maidens, old men and children, widows, virgins, and -youths—in fact, every one, whether married or unmarried, it mattered not, -was “counselled”—commanded—to marry. - -There is above fanaticism a stronger law which, despite every effort of -the deluded victim, _will_ occasionally make itself heard—the voice of -Nature. Even during that strange time in which every Saint seemed to -have gone stark crazy mad, the frightful anomaly of men of fifty, sixty, -and even seventy, marrying mere children—girls of fourteen, and even -thirteen—forced itself upon the attention of some of the leaders. The -question arose—an odd question to Gentile ears—“At what age is a girl -old enough to marry?” Considerable discussion ensued, and even in the -Tabernacle the subject was taken up. The voice of authority, however, -eventually answered the matter, but not in the way that any ordinary -civilized person would expect. - -In those times, unmarried girls were very scarce—in the settlements it -was difficult to find any at all. Not infrequently it happened that a -brother was “counselled” to marry, but could not obey, as there was no -unmarried woman in the place where he lived. In that case he generally -paid a visit to Salt Lake City. But business at the Endowment House -nevertheless was pretty lively; in fact, so much so that it was deemed -necessary to set apart certain days for the various Settlements. Once, -when the “Provo day” was fast approaching, two old brethren from that -town who had been counselled to enlarge their families, but who had been -unsuccessful in finding partners, began to despair of being able to obey -“the word of the Lord!” The day before that appointed for the Endowments -and Celestial Marriage arrived, and they were as far from success as -ever. Being neighbours, the two old gentlemen met and mingled their -griefs, and considered what might be done. It then occurred to them that -there was a certain brother who had two daughters, respectively _twelve_ -and _fourteen_ years of age, and they resolved to call upon him about -these children. As might be supposed, the father at first refused them, -giving as a reason that the girls were too young. The old men explained -that if they could not marry the children it was impossible for them to -“obey counsel,” and the father then agreed. The next morning the marriage -ceremony was performed in the Endowment House. One of these wretches was -sixty years of age, and the other a few years younger. The father of -the children was about forty. I am really afraid that the reader will -think that I exaggerate or misrepresent facts. I wish it were so, for -the case is so outrageously atrocious; but I am sorry to say that scores -and hundreds of instances similar to this, which occurred during the -Reformation, might be given. - -There are before me as I write, letters, papers, documents of various -sorts relative to marriage and the matrimonial affairs of the Saints, at -the time of which I speak, that I wish the reader could peep at. I would -not like him to read them—in fact, I dared not read them all myself, for -some of them are so shameful that the mere knowledge of having read them -through would make any right-minded person blush. Taking more wives was -the order of the day—_how_, was of little matter. - -The work of “Reformation” was in full progress; the people were excited -to frenzy; the Federal troops were expected; men were marrying and -maidens were given in marriage; every one in Utah was looking forward to -the time when the Prophecies of Joseph, the Seer, should be fulfilled, -and the Son of Man should come:—and then, when one would have supposed -that every man would have wished that his hands should be pure, was -perpetrated a deed which is unparalleled in modern civilized times—a deed -at which angels and men have stood aghast with horror. - -[Illustration: BISHOP JOHN D. LEE, Mormon Commander in the Mountain -Meadow Massacre.] - -[Illustration: JOHN TAYLOR, Acting President of the Mormon Church. - -_Born in Westmoreland, England, in 1803._] - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI. - -THE MOUNTAIN MEADOWS MASSACRE:—“I WILL REPAY, SAITH THE LORD.” - - -I feel myself utterly incompetent to tell the story of the Mountain -Meadows Massacre—it is so shocking, so fiend-like. And yet it must be -told. - -While the work of “Reformation” was going on, and when the United States -troops were constantly expected in the Valley of the Great Salt Lake, a -large train of emigrants passed through Utah on its way to California. -The train consisted of one hundred and twenty or one hundred and thirty -persons, and they came chiefly from Arkansas. They were people from the -country districts, sober, hard-working, plain folks, but well-to-do, and, -taken all in all, about as respectable a band of emigrants as ever passed -through Salt Lake City. - -Nothing worthy of any particular note occurred to them until they reached -the Valley—that was the point from which they started towards death. - -My old friend Eli B. Kelsey travelled with them from Fort Bridger to -Salt Lake City, and he spoke of them in the highest terms. If I remember -rightly he said that the train was divided into two parts—the first a -rough-and-ready set of men—regular frontier pioneers; the other a picked -community, the members of which were all more or less connected by family -ties. They travelled along in the most orderly fashion, without hurry -or confusion. On Sunday they rested, and one of their number who had -been a Methodist preacher conducted divine service. All went well until -they reached Salt Lake City, where they expected to be able to refit -and replenish their stock of provisions; but it was there that they -first discovered that feeling of enmity which finally resulted in their -destruction. - -Now it so happened that the minds of the Saints in Salt Lake City were -at that time strongly prejudiced against the people of Arkansas, and -for a most unsaintly reason. The Apostle Parley P. Pratt was one of the -earliest converts to Mormonism, and who so ably defended his adopted -creed with his pen and from the platform, had not very long before been -sojourning in Arkansas, and had there run away with another man’s wife. -This was only a trifle for an “Apostle” to do, and the husband—Mr. -McLean—might have known it. But he was a most inconsiderate man, and -was actually offended with the amorous Apostle for what he had done. He -pursued him and killed him, for in those rough parts it was considered -that the Apostle did wrong in marrying the man’s wife. Nobody, however, -took any notice of the matter or brought the murderer to trial. The -Mormon people, of course, took the side of the Apostle Parley P. Pratt. -Sensitive themselves to the highest degree concerning their wives and -daughters, they considered McLean a sinner for doing just exactly what -any Saint would have certainly done. Their opinion, however, would -have been a matter of consequence only to themselves, had not such -fatal consequences resulted from it. Reasoning without reason, they -argued that McLean was the enemy of every Mormon, and every Mormon was -the enemy of McLean; McLean was protected in Arkansas—therefore every -man from Arkansas was an enemy of the Mormons;—an enemy ought to be -cut off—therefore it was the duty of every Mormon to “cut off”—if he -could—every Arkansas man. - -This appears to have been the tone of thought which actuated the minds of -the leaders of the people at the time when this emigrant train arrived in -the City. - -Weary and footsore they encamped by the Jordan River, trusting there -to recruit themselves and their teams, and to replenish their stock of -provisions. The harvest in Utah that year had been abundant, and there -was nothing to hinder them from obtaining a speedy and full supply. -Brigham Young was then Governor of Utah Territory, Commander-in-Chief of -the Militia, and Indian Agent as well: he was therefore responsible for -all that took place within his jurisdiction. It was his duty to protect -all law-abiding persons who either resided in or travelled through the -country. The emigrants, so far from being protected, were ordered to -break up their camp and move on; and it is said that written instructions -were sent on before them, directing the people in the settlements through -which they would have to pass to have no dealings with them. This, -considering their need of provisions, was much the same as condemning -them to certain death. - -Compelled to travel on, they pursued their journey slowly towards Los -Angeles. At American Fork they wished to trade off some of their worn-out -stock and to purchase fresh—they also desired to obtain provisions. There -was abundance of everything from the farm and from the field, for God had -very greatly blessed the land that year; but they could obtain nothing. -They passed on, and went through Battle Creek, Provo, Springville, -Spanish Fork, Payson, Salt Creek, and Fillmore, and their reception was -still the same,—the word of the Mormon Pontiff had gone forth, and no man -dared to hold communion or to trade with them. Now and then, some Mormon, -weak in the faith or braver or more fond of money than his fellows, -would steal into the camp, in the darkness of the night, bearing with -him just what he was able to carry; but beyond this they could procure -nothing. Their only hope now lay in the chance of holding out until they -could push through to some Gentile settlement where the word of the -priestly Governor of Utah was not law. Through fifteen different Mormon -settlements did they pass, without being able to purchase a morsel of -bread. With empty waggons and on short allowance, they pushed on until -they reached Corn Creek, where, for the first time in saintly Utah, they -met a friendly greeting _from the Indians_, and purchased from them -thirty bushels of corn, of which they stood very greatly in need. - -At Beaver they were again repulsed, and at Parowan they were not -permitted to enter the town—they were forced to leave the public highway -and pass round the west side of the fort wall. They encamped by the -stream, and tried as before to obtain food and fresh cattle, but again to -no purpose. The reason why they were refused admission to the town was -probably because the militia was there assembled under Colonel Wm. H. -Dame—which militia afterwards assisted in their destruction, for which -preparations were even now being made. - -They made their way to Cedar City, the most populous of all the towns -of Southern Utah. Here they were allowed to purchase fifty bushels -of tithing wheat, and to have it ground at the mill of that infamous -scoundrel John D. Lee, upon whose memory will rest the eternal curses of -all who have ever heard his name. It was, however, no act of mercy, the -supplying of this corn. The sellers of it knew well enough even then that -it would return to them again in the course of a few days. After all, -they had but forty days’ rations to carry them on to San Bernardino, in -California—a journey of about seventy days. Scanty kindness—miserable -generosity!—fifty bushels of corn for a seventy days’ journey, for men, -women, and young children, and at least one little one to be born on the -road. - -They remained in Cedar City only one day, and so jaded were their teams -that it took them three days to travel thence to Iron Creek, a distance -of twenty miles; and two days were occupied in journeying fifteen -miles—the distance between Iron Creek and the Meadows. - -The morning after they left Iron Creek, the Mormon militia followed them -in pursuit, intending, it is supposed, to assault them at Clara Crossing. -That this was no private outburst, and that, on the contrary, it was -done by authority, is evident from sworn testimony to the effect that -the assembling of those troops was the result of “_a regular military -call from the superior officers to the subordinate officers and privates -of the regiments.... Said regiment was duly ordered to muster, armed -and equipped as the law directs, and prepared for field operations._” -A regular military council was held at Parowan, at which were present -President Isaac C. Haight, the Mormon High Priest of Southern Utah, -Colonel Dame, Major John D. Lee, and the Apostle George A. Smith. - -No military council, whether of the militia or the ordinary troops of -the line, would dare to determine upon such an important matter as the -cutting off of an emigrant train of one hundred and thirty persons -without receiving permission from superior authority. Brigham Young was -in this case the superior authority—he was the Commander-in-Chief of the -Militia:—the inference is obvious. I do not, of course, say that he gave -the order for this accursed deed, but that it was his business to bring -the criminals to justice no one can doubt or deny. - -The regiment, which started from Cedar City under the command of Major -John D. Lee, the sub-agent for Indian affairs in Southern Utah, was -accompanied by baggage-waggons and the other paraphernalia of war -excepting only heavy artillery, which in this case would have been -useless. But, at the same time, a large body of the Piede Indians had -been invited to accompany them. - -An order came from head-quarters to cut off the entire company except the -little children. The emigrants were utterly unprepared, and the first -onslaught found them defenceless. Accustomed, however, to border warfare, -they immediately corralled their waggons and prepared for a siege—their -great misfortune was that they had not any water—Major John D. Lee, -finding the emigrants resolute, sent to Cedar City and Washington City -for reinforcements, which duly arrived. - -The next morning, Major John D. Lee assembled his troops, including -the auxiliaries which he had summoned, about half a mile from the -entrenchment of the fated emigrants, and then and there informed them, -with all the coolness which such an infamous scoundrel alone could -muster, that the whole company was to be killed, and only the little -children who were too young to remember anything were to be spared. - -The unfortunate emigrants did not know who their foes were. They saw -Indians, or men who were so coloured that they looked like Indians, -and they saw others who were more than strangers to them, but they had -no clue to the cause of their detention. To them all was mystery. That -Indians should attack them was quite within the bounds of probability, -although there was at that time no cause for such an outrage; but that -such an attack should be persistent, and should be carried on under -the peculiar circumstances in question, was, to say the least, highly -improbable. - -Who could rightly tell a story so fearful as this? The emigrant -train—men, women, and children fainting and famishing for want of bread -and meat. In their pockets was money wherewith the necessaries of life -might have been bought, and the generous hand of the Almighty had that -year been open so wide, and had scattered those necessaries so liberally, -that nothing but the wickedness of man towards his fellow could have -created a dearth. But so it was that darkness and the fear of death—a -fearful death even at the door—was all those poor emigrants had standing -before their eyes. What right had the Mormon militia to be pursuing, to -be hanging about the skirts of any body of emigrants? Their very presence -was in itself unauthorized—criminal. The emigrants supposed that they -were surrounded by Indians, and expected the cruellest treatment in case -of resistance not only death, but the outrage and shocking atrocities -of savages. They did not know that the red men who threatened their -lives and the lives of their helpless wives and infants were brought -together at that spot for that same purpose by the counsel of Mormon -authorities. They did not know that so many of the appearing red-skins -were only painted devils, mocks of humanity, wretches who under the -mask of a red-skin’s colour were eager to perpetrate the foulest of -offences—scoundrels a thousand times damned in the opinion of men, and by -the decree of God. - -Day after day went by, and the poor creatures began to despair—who -can wonder? The brave men cared little for their own lives; but there -was something fearful in the thought that their darling ones would be -scalped, and torn in pieces, and brutally outraged! Who can wonder that -they resolved to sell life as dearly as they possibly could? They might -at least die in defence of those they loved. - -So day followed day. The agony of the unhappy men and women who were thus -besieged, and were in daily, hourly peril of the most frightful of all -deaths, can be imagined—not told. Meanwhile, what were those atrocious -scoundrels doing who were lying in wait for their blood? Some of them -were tricked out as Indians; some were in their own proper dresses; and, -moreover, real Utes were there. The unhappy victims could not possibly -escape—there was time for the murderers to do their work leisurely. -Between chance shots, which were intended to, and did, carry death with -them, they amused themselves with “pitching horse-shoe quoits:”—such -heartlessness is almost beyond conception. - -In terrible need of water, they thought that even the Indians, who they -supposed were their assailants, might possibly respect a token of truce; -so they dressed two little girls in white and sent them down to the well. -But the fiends—the Mormon militia—shot them down. In the day of doom, the -blood of those babes will testify more heavily against Major John D. Lee, -and Isaac C. Haight, and Colonel Dame, and George A. Smith, and the other -wretch who plotted and contrived that fearful iniquity, than any of the -base and cowardly crimes which have for years and years blackened their -contemptible and miserable souls. - -They could not possibly advance. Their corn would not last long. They -were famishing for water. How long they could hold out was evidently -only a matter of time. Had the train consisted only of men, they might -certainly, if with loss, have cut their way through their besiegers and -escaped; but with wives and children, and others bound to them by the -tenderest ties, such a thing was impossible. They looked and waited. -Savage Indians they supposed were their only enemies. Coldly, strangely -as they had been treated at the Mormon settlements, they never for a -moment supposed that white men could be in league against them or could -meditate their destruction. - -Up in the meadows—in the distance—there was a white dusty cloud as if of -some person or persons approaching:—the hearts of the emigrants leaped -for joy. Was help coming at last? It was evident that a waggon was coming -near, and the waggon was filled with armed men;—here was hope. After all -the misery of that waitful watching, they were overjoyed, and shouted -aloud with gladness, and sprang with open arms to welcome their visitors. -Little did they suppose that the fiends who then came down, with pale -faces and the manners of white men, were the same as those who, painted -and decked out like Indians, had been leaguered about their camp with -murderous intentions for so many days. - -The waggon came near, and was found to be filled with armed men. Surely -now, the unhappy emigrants thought, substantial help had come—the -authorities of Utah in the neighbourhood, whether Gentile or Mormon, had -come out in the cause of civilization and humanity, and succour was at -hand. - -A white flag was waved from the waggon as an emblem of peace, and in -order that the emigrants might know that it was white men and not the red -demons of the hills who approached. They did not, indeed, know that these -themselves were the monsters who had wronged them all this time, and who -were even now compassing their death. - -Inside that waggon was President Haight, the infamous Mormon Bishop -John D. Lee, and other authorities of the Church in Southern Utah. They -professed to the emigrants that they came upon the friendly errand of -standing between them and the Indians. They said that the Indians had -taken offence at something that the emigrants had done, that they were -thirsting for their blood, but that they, the Mormon officials, were on -good terms with them and had influence, and would use their good offices -in the cause of mercy and of peace. After some discussion they left with -the professed view of conciliating the Indians. Then they returned and -said that the Indians had agreed that, if the emigrants marched back to -Salt Lake City, their lives should be spared; but that they must leave -everything behind them in their camp, even including the common weapons -of defence which every Western man carries about his person. The Mormon -officials then solemnly undertook to bring an armed force and to guard -the emigrants safely back again to the Settlements. - -The emigrants were not cowards, and would doubtless have preferred to cut -their way through to the south, but they could not leave their wives and -little ones, and any terms, however disadvantageous, were better than -leaving those they loved to the tender mercy of those wretches. - -This agreement being made, the Mormon officials retired, and after a -short time again returned with thirty or forty armed men. Then the -emigrants were marched out—the women and children in the front, and the -men following, while the Mormon guard followed in the rear. When they had -marched in this way about a mile, and had arrived at the place where the -Indians were hid in the bushes on each side of the road, the signal was -given for the slaughter. So taken by surprise were the emigrants, and -so implicitly had they confided in these murderers, that they offered -no resistance. The Mormon Militia, their guard, immediately opened fire -upon them from the rear, while the Indians, and Mormons disguised as -Indians, who were hidden among the bushes, rushed out upon them, shooting -them down with guns and bows and arrows, and cutting some of the men’s -throats with knives. The women and children, shrieking with mortal -terror, scattered and fled, some trying to hide in the bushes. Two young -girls actually did escape for about a quarter of a mile, when they were -overtaken and butchered under circumstances of the greatest brutality. -The son of John D. Lee endeavoured to protect one poor girl who clung to -him for help; but his father, tearing her from him by violence, blew out -her brains. Another unhappy girl is said to have kneeled to this same -monster Lee, entreating him to spare her life. He dragged her into the -bushes, stripped her naked, and cut her throat from ear to ear, after she -had suffered worse at his hands than death itself. About half an hour was -probably occupied in the butchery, and every soul of that company was cut -off, excepting only a few little children who were supposed to be too -young to understand or remember what had taken place. The unfortunate -victims were stripped, without reference to age or sex, and then left to -rot upon the field. There they remained until torn and dismembered by the -wolves, when it was then thought prudent to conceal such as lay nearest -to the road. An eye-witness subsequently visiting the spot said:— - -“The scene of the massacre, even at this late day, was horrible to look -upon. Women’s hair in detached locks and in masses hung to the sage -bushes and was strewn over the ground in many places. Parts of little -children’s dresses and of female costume dangled from the shrubbery, or -lay scattered about, and among these, here and there on every hand, for -at least a mile in the direction of the road, by two miles east and west, -there gleamed, bleached white by the weather, the skulls and other bones -of those who had suffered. A glance into the waggon, when all these had -been collected, revealed a sight which never can be forgotten.” - -[Illustration: SCENE OF THE MOUNTAIN MEADOW MASSACRE. - -_To face p. 255._] - -The remains were subsequently gathered together by Major Carleton, the -United States Commissioner, who erected over them a large cairn of -stones, surmounted by a cross of red cedar, with the inscription thereon: -“_Vengeance is mine: I will repay, saith the Lord_;” and on a stone -beneath were engraved the words:— - -“Here 120 men, women, and children were massacred in cold blood, early in -September, 1857. They were from Arkansas.” - -It is said that this monument was subsequently destroyed by order of -Brigham Young, when he visited that part of the territory. - -The little children, while their parents were being butchered, had clung -about their murderers’ knees, entreating mercy, but none of them finding -it save those who were little more than infants. Their fears and cries -the night after the murder are said to have been heart-rending. One -little babe, just beginning to walk, was shot through the arm. Another -little girl was shot through the ear, and the clothes of most of them -were saturated with their mothers’ blood. They were distributed among -the people of the settlements, and when finally the Government took -them under the protection of the nation, the people among whom these -little ones lived actually charged for their boarding. Two of them are -said to have uttered some words from which it was presumed that their -intelligence was in advance of their years. They were taken out quietly -and _buried_! This happened some time after the massacre. - -Most of the property of the emigrants was sold by _public auction_ in -Cedar City: the Indians got most of the flour and ammunition, and the -Mormons the more valuable articles. They jested over it and called it -“Spoil taken at the siege of Sevastopol.” There is legal proof that -the clothing stripped from the corpses, blood-stained, riddled by the -bullets, and with shreds of flesh attached to it, was placed in the -cellar of the tithing office, where it lay about three weeks, when it -was privately sold. The cellar is said to have smelt of it for years. -Long after this time, jewellery torn from the mangled bodies of the -unfortunate women was publicly worn in Salt Lake City, and every one knew -whence it came. A tithing of it all is reported, upon very conclusive -evidence, to have been laid at the feet of Brigham Young. - -This is the story, most imperfectly told, for I dare not sketch its -foulest details, of the Mountain Meadows Massacre. Brigham Young, who -was at the time Governor of the Territory and also Indian Agent, made no -report of the matter. Let that fact of itself speak for his innocence or -guilt. Would any other governor or agent in another territory have been -thus silent? John D. Lee, and Dame, and Haight, and the other wretches -have never been brought to trial or cut off from the Church, although -their monstrous crime has never been a secret, nor have any endeavours -been made to conceal it. - -This fearful deed was one of the unavoidable results of the teachings -of the Mormon leaders during the Reformation. There were crimes then -perpetrated in secret which will never be known until the day of doom; -and there were horrors which have been known and recorded, but for which -no one has been brought to trial or has suffered inconvenience. There are -men in Salt Lake City, who walk about unblushingly in broad daylight, but -who are known to be murderers, and whose hands have been again and again -dyed with blood under circumstances of the most atrocious cruelty. - -There was one cruel murder, but by no means the worst—which came under -my own personal observation, and which I have alluded to elsewhere—the -murder of Dr. John King Robinson in Salt Lake City, which attracted -more than ordinary attention. This gentleman was a physician of good -standing, who came out as assistant-surgeon with the United States army, -and afterwards began to practise in Salt Lake City. He was known as a -man of unimpeachable moral character, and there are to this day hundreds -of responsible people who would testify to his fair fame and rectitude; -although he had by some means incurred the dislike of many of the Mormon -leaders. He formed the idea of taking possession of some warm springs on -the north of the city, and proposed to erect there baths, an hospital, -&c. A small wooden shanty was erected for the purpose of holding -possession, but the city authorities claimed the spring, and, after some -very unpleasant proceedings, the matter was referred to the law courts, -and Judge Titus decided against the doctor. - -After this verdict had been rendered, Dr. Robinson seems to have acted -very prudently, and to have remained in-doors as much as possible during -the succeeding days. Between eleven and twelve o’clock on the night of -the third day, however, after the family had retired to rest, a man -called at the house, and stating that his brother had broken his leg by -a fall from a mule and was suffering very much, he, after some earnest -persuasion, induced the doctor to accompany him. Anxious as he might be -to remain in-doors at such a time, no professional man would refuse to -perform an act of mercy. He accordingly went. At a distance of about a -couple of hundred steps from the house he was struck over the head with -some sharp instrument, and immediately after shot through the brain. His -wife, a young girl, to whom he had only been married a very short time, -heard the report of the pistol, and witnesses saw men fleeing from the -spot. The police were sent for, and the body was carried to Independence -Hall, and afterwards to the victim’s house. The Mayor of the city was -not informed of the murder until ten o’clock the next day, and the chief -of police, who was sitting round the fire with his men when news of the -murder arrived, went to bed immediately, and did not visit the scene of -the outrage for three days. - -The following Sunday, Brigham Young, in the Tabernacle, publicly -suggested that the doctor had probably been murdered by some of the -soldiers from Camp Douglas, who were dissatisfied with his treatment when -they were under his hands, or else that he had fallen in some gambling -transaction—both of which statements, however, were known by every one -present to be utterly false. No one was ever prosecuted for this cruel -murder. It did not occur during the Reformation, but was the natural -result of the teachings of those times. - -I simply mention these facts without any comment of my own. Let the -reader form his own conclusion. More of these frightful stories I do not -care to relate; and I should not even have presented these to the notice -of the reader had it not been impossible otherwise to give any adequate -idea of that terrible “Reformation.” The Gentile army came in. The Union -Pacific Railroad was opened. Changes and chances altered all that had -been, and brought into being that which might be, and that which finally -really was. Instead of looking to the events of three or four thousand -years ago, men began to act up to things which were—to think and act in -the present, not to dream of the past. The day has gone by, but not far, -when the perpetration openly of such deeds was possible; but it is still -boasted that, when “_Deseret_” becomes a State, the “Saints” will “show -still greater zeal _for the Lord_!” - -In concluding this too brief sketch of the most tragic episodes in -Mormon domestic history, I must warn my readers against the inference -that the ghastly facts and details there presented came to my knowledge -either immediately or soon after my arrival in Utah. No, it was only -after many years’ residence there, and by very slow degrees, that they -became known to me, and the effect which they produced on my mind was -necessarily broken and impaired by the gradual and disconnected way in -which they oozed out, the horrible and bewildering travesty of biblical -argument urged in their defence, and by my utter isolation from the outer -and higher world, and communication with the heart and brain ennobling -influences of a wholesome and invigorating public opinion. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII. - -WHAT WOMEN SUFFER IN POLYGAMY:—THE STORY OF MARY BURTON. - - -One bright summer morning, about six months after our arrival in Salt -Lake City, I was sitting in the work-room, busy with my girls, when a -light tap was heard at the door, and the next instant a lady entered, -and, coming straight up to me, was about to kiss me. - -I started back a step, held out my hand, looked her full in the face, -and in a moment we were in each other’s arms. It was my old friend, Mary -Burton! - -I could with difficulty find words to express my astonishment when I -recognized her, so greatly was she changed in every respect. From the -very first, whenever we met after a long separation, I had noticed a more -than ordinary alteration in her appearance. But it must be remembered -that at the time of our first re-union she had grown out of childhood -into womanhood; when I met her again in New York, she had passed through -the most interesting phase of a woman’s life—she had forsaken maidenhood -for matrimony; and now I met her once more after she had endured those -horrors on the Plains—of which the reader has already heard—and she -had entered into a life of sorrow worse than any she had known before. -No wonder, then, that now, as upon previous occasions, I noticed quite -a startling change in her appearance. Her dress was of the coarsest -and plainest kind, but neat, as was everything she touched; yet not so -carefully arranged as in the old time in England. She used formerly -to have a way of adjusting a dress or a bonnet so that it set her off -ten times better than it would a girl who had not naturally the same -taste; but now, although, as I said, her clothes, if coarse, were neat, -she evidently had not taken any pains to set herself off to the best -advantage; and in a woman what a story did that simple fact tell! But it -was in her features and manners that the change was most remarkable. -In looking at her face you would have been puzzled to say in what the -alteration consisted. Her cheeks were thinner and sadly pale, but that -was not the cause of her appearing as she did. Had she been older, I -verily believe the anguish she had passed through would have blanched -her hair and left upon her brow deep marks of thought and suffering. As -it was, however, though no one feature in particular was very greatly -altered, the whole expression of her face was that of one whose heart was -utterly crushed and broken; and when her eyes met mine, I could hardly -refrain from tears as I saw the mournful look of subdued pain, which told -in them the terrific conflict which her heart had endured. - -I took her to my own room—poor girl, how my heart bled for her!—and -again and again I held her in my arms and tried to comfort her, for she -was very weary; and at last she wept. I was glad to see that passionate -flood of tears, for I knew it would relieve her, and in that I was not -mistaken. She threw her arms round my neck, and, kissing me repeatedly, -sobbed out, “Don’t blame me, Sister Stenhouse; don’t blame me very much; -I cannot help it.” - -“There, there, Mary,” I said; “be calm and you will soon be better. You -must tell me all your troubles, and I will do all I can to help and -comfort you.” - -“There is no help, Sister Stenhouse, no comfort for me; I’m past all -that,” she answered. - -“Don’t say that, Mary,” I said; “I know that you have passed through a -terrible amount of suffering, and have had much trouble in every way; but -your husband is still alive, is he not?—and there may be many years of -happiness before you.” - -“It is the thought of him that makes me so wretched,” she said; “oh! I -could have borne death a thousand times rather than this. I would gladly -have seen him die rather than see him changed as he is now. You do not -know, Sister Stenhouse, how my whole soul was wrapped up in that man, how -I almost worshipped him. When we suffered so much together on the Plains, -I felt happy in comparison with what I feel now. I remember that terrible -night when I believed he was dying—I remember the anguish that I felt; -but, oh! I knew then that he loved me and that his heart was all my own. -Had I lost him, if I could myself have lived, I should have felt that he -had never loved another beside me; I should have known that we would meet -together again in heaven and be happy in each other’s love. After all we -went through together, I loved him more and more; we seemed to live with -one life; we had the same thoughts, and hopes, and pleasures; I leaned -upon him, and I loved him—ah, so fondly! and, Sister Stenhouse, I know he -loved me then. We were getting over the effects of our sufferings on the -Plains, and I was gaining strength and was looking forward to the time -when my child should be born. It was then that they came and taught him -that devil’s doctrine and led him away from me. Oh dear! I cannot bear -it, Sister Stenhouse, I cannot bear it; it will drive me mad!” - -She buried her face in her hands, and sobbed again. - -“Mary, dear,” I said, “don’t talk like that; he cannot have ceased to -love you, I am sure; he used to almost worship you, dear.” - -“It is because I know that he did once, that drives me crazy. You do not -know what I feel, and what I have to bear!” - -I did not utter a word; my own sorrows were hidden in my own heart. The -heart knoweth its bitterness, and a stranger intermeddleth not in the -matter. “You have been through the Endowments?” she asked. “So have I. -We went through, Sister Stenhouse, about three months after we came to -Utah, and never since then have I known a moment’s peace. I do not know -what they said to my husband, but, whatever it was, it produced a great -effect upon his mind, and changed him altogether; he has been an altered -man from that very time. I have no doubt that they told them that it was -his duty to take another wife, and they would say that no promise made -to me before our marriage was binding if it comes in opposition to our -religion. You know how devoted he is, how firm his faith is. Why, I do -believe that he would obey counsel even if it broke his heart, and cost -him his life. Did they say nothing to you or your husband, dear?” - -“Certainly they did, Mary; we have heard it daily and hourly, and my -husband is constantly being counselled about it. I am wretched, Mary, you -know I must be; I feel just as you do, but how can we help ourselves?” - -“No, we cannot help ourselves, there is no hope,” she said; “but it is -a cruel wrong. You know well enough how determined I was never to marry -a man who would take another wife. When I thought that Elder Shrewsbury -might be influenced by his religion, I made him go to the Apostle and get -counsel, and then he solemnly vowed to me that he never would enter into -polygamy without my consent; which, of course, was the same as saying -that he never would do so at all. Until we went through our Endowments, -he never even hinted at such a thing. But they spoke to him then; and one -day, after he had been having a long consultation with the Bishop, he -came and spoke to me. He was not unkind in the least. In fact he seemed -to be as much pained at all mention of the subject as I was. He said that -the Bishop had been urging him to live up to his privileges, and had -explained to him how great a loss in the celestial world it would be, -both to him and to me, if he did not take more wives. He was told that -now while he was young was the time, and that I would soon get over any -pain that I might suffer. Yes, they actually said so. Fancy tearing out -the very affections of one’s heart, and blasting every hope and happiness -in life, and then saying that I should soon ‘get used to it!’ I tell -you, Sister Stenhouse, a true woman never can ‘get used’ to this hideous -system. If the hearts of some are dead and cold, it is a curse to them -and a curse to their husband and children; and if a wife seems careless -or callous, as the case may be, it is because love for her husband has -first died out in her heart. She feels no jealousy because she has no -love; but if a woman has but a spark of love for her husband, she will -hate with a deadly hatred any other woman whom that husband loves.” - -“But what did Elder Shrewsbury say when they told him to enter into -polygamy?” I inquired. - -“At first he told them it was utterly impossible,” she replied, “and he -mentioned his promise to me, and said we were very happy together, and -that he wished for nothing more. But they knew his weakness, and that he -would do anything for his religion, and they urged him on that point. -It was even a sin against me they said, for if he had no more than one -wife he could never exalt me in the celestial kingdom; that I ought to be -treated like a child—a very dear, but spoilt child; and if I refused what -was for my own and my husband’s benefit and everlasting welfare, he ought -to act up to what he knew was right, and leave the consequences with the -Lord, who would order all things for the best. My husband told me all -this very sadly at first, but I could see that it had an effect upon his -mind. They saw it, too, and did not let the subject drop. Every day they -spoke to him of it, and at last he gave way—for _my_ sake, he said! This -was the cruellest wrong of all. Then one day he told me very firmly and -very coldly, as if he had steeled his heart to do so, that he had made up -his mind to take another wife.” - -“What!” I exclaimed, “after the solemn oath he swore never to do such a -thing? Why, I could not have believed it of Elder Shrewsbury!” - -“I reminded him of his promise,” she said, “but he told me that the -Revelation justified him in breaking it; that it said in the second -clause that ‘All covenants, contracts, and oaths not sealed by him who -is appointed on earth to hold this power in the last days are of no -force after the resurrection;’ that for this cause we had been married -again for eternity, and that now he was free from his oath. I knelt down -before him, and I wept and prayed as if for life itself; I entreated him, -if no more, to wait and put off all thoughts of another marriage for a -few months, until he had time to consider the matter carefully. He had -already thoroughly thought it over, he said, and could not go back now, -for the Bishop had chosen a wife for him, and had arranged everything. -He even told me who it was—a young girl named Wilbur, about fourteen -years of age—a mere child. I prayed him if he would be so wicked as to -perjure himself and wrong me so foully, at least not to add to his sin by -injuring a poor innocent child. He was very indignant with me for that, -said that he was doing the child the greatest good he possibly could by -marrying her; that he was ensuring her salvation as well as mine; and -that he expected to receive the blessing of God.” - -“Mary,” I said, “this system is a fearful curse.” - -“Curse!” she exclaimed, “curse is a heavenly word to apply to such a -system. Why there is nothing in hell so hateful, so vile, so detestable. -It is blight and ruin to everything that is fair and good. I never pass a -day but I curse with the bitterest hatred the men who devised it. Women -_can_ hate bitterly when they choose; but I hate _them_ more than ever -woman hated before.” - -“Hush! hush, dear!” I said; “you mustn’t talk so, Mary!” - -“I mustn’t say it perhaps—it’s dangerous, I know; but I may think so. -There is not a true-hearted woman in Utah who does not feel as I do this -day. Do you think that when they have ruined all our hopes for time -and for eternity we shall love them still? Here, but for this wretched -system, I should have been a happy wife and mother, and now see what I -am—husband, child, all lost—all lost!” - -“Is the child dead, Mary?” I asked very gently, for I feared to pain her. - -“Yes, dear,” she replied, “in fact, I believe it never lived—the one I -was thinking of. I was ill, very ill indeed, after what my husband had -told me. They thought I should die, and I think he was sorry, for he -became very kind and tender to me, but that only made me feel worse. Then -my child was born, but I never saw it, for I was unconscious for more -than a week after, and then they told me that it was not alive, but my -husband would never speak to me about it. As I grew better, his cold, -stern manner returned, and then at last he married that girl Wilbur, -and since then he has married two more, for he is doing very well in -business. I think that all his love for me has gone. At first he thought -of marrying again because it was a religious principle; and as it was -the time of the Reformation he did not dare to refuse; but now his heart -is grown hard and cold. You see a change in me, Sister Stenhouse, but I -think you’d see a greater change in him. I know, of course, that I used -to look at him with the eyes of love, and of course did not see him as -other people did; but that is not the only change—it isn’t in his face -alone; his whole nature is altered. It quite pains me sometimes to see -him.” - -“Do you feel any happier now—any calmer, Mary?” - -“Yes,” she said, “yes, and no. I do not love him as I used to; how could -I? But when I look into my heart I find, if I tell you the truth, that a -little love _does_ remain there. If only I could _quite_ cease to love -him I think I should be happy; but when I pet and play with my little -girl—for we have had one child since that dreadful time—some of my love -for him comes back again, and I sit down and have a good cry. Sometimes -that isn’t enough to calm me, and I shut the door and walk up and down -the room and swear. There! don’t look so horrified, Sister Stenhouse, -I cannot help it; if I did not give way to my feelings now and then I -should die outright; and sometimes I break a few things, but he never -knows it, and it does me good. We came into the city yesterday on a -visit, and we shall stay for a few days. He brought me, I believe, as a -matter of form; but I found out where you lived, and I came to see you. -You never answered my letter, and I did not know whether you had left New -York yet. I really _am_ glad to see you, Sister Stenhouse. And is it true -that Brother Stenhouse has not taken another wife yet?” - -“Not yet,” I said; “but, as I told you, he has been spoken to about it, -and I cannot tell what he may do. As you say, Mary, the Mormon women have -not much to make them happy.” - -Mary gave me a great deal of information. In that she was quite herself, -as I knew her in by-gone days. Nothing escaped her observation. She sat -down with me and told me all her troubles, and I need hardly say how -deeply I sympathized with her. So I tried to comfort her, and spoke about -her child, but even respecting that poor little thing she felt no hope. -“Why, when it grows up,” she said, “it will be as miserable as I am—I can -see no prospect of happiness in the future for it.” We agreed that the -only way whereby we might prevent our children from experiencing sorrow -and misery similar to our own was to teach them from the very first that -Polygamy was the natural and proper, as well as the revealed order of -marriage; in fact to “bring them up” in the system. What a miserable -resource was this for a mother who loved her children! - -“One thing, Mary,” I said, referring to her own personal experience -in Polygamy; “one thing I do not quite understand. _You_, of course, -had made your husband specially promise, before you married him, that -he would never take another wife, and he was therefore bound, as a -man, by every moral obligation, not to do so. But other women have -not been situated as you were, and they have exacted no promises from -their husbands. Yet it always seemed to me that your doing so was quite -superfluous, for you must be aware, Mary, that the Revelation says that, -before a man can take a second wife, he must have the full consent of -the first. The elders in Europe used to make a great deal of that point, -as you may remember, for they said that this provision took from the -Revelation any harshness or injustice which it might otherwise appear to -show. I know many women who submitted on this account, for they argued -that, if their permission was necessary, they could always, by refusing, -save themselves from any further trouble. Now if that was so, how came -_your_ husband to take another wife against your will? I say _your_ -husband, because I should have no difficulty in many other cases. I -have been repeatedly told that husbands never troubled themselves about -the Revelation when they wanted another wife, unless it was to silence -the first wife with it, if she rebelled. But I always regarded Elder -Shrewsbury as a conscientious man, and I firmly believed that he would -never willingly give you a moment’s pain. When he made that promise to -you, he had the Revelation before him, and had also the Apostle to go -to if he needed the ‘Word of the Lord.’ He was therefore bound by that -promise, notwithstanding anything that the Revelation might say to the -contrary; and even had he made no promise, the Revelation was on your -side. We are told that every woman must first give her consent.” - -“That is all very true, Sister Stenhouse,” she said, “to a certain -extent. The theory is as you say, but you have not heard the whole. -I know the Revelation pretty nearly by heart, and so I can tell you -exactly what it does say. The first wife is said to hold the keys of this -power, by which is meant that she can refuse. But then it goes on to say -that when her husband has taught her the law of the Priesthood—that is -Polygamy—‘_she shall believe or she shall be destroyed_, saith the Lord -your God, for I will destroy her.’ You see there is no loophole of escape -for the woman. Her husband is to teach her the law, and she _shall_ -believe; and if she does not—and of course people have no power to make -themselves believe what they please—she is to be destroyed, and God will -destroy her! Do you know, Sister Stenhouse, there are stories whispered -here of women who _did_ refuse, and who stood in their husbands’ way; -and it is said that the Priesthood did not wait for the Lord to destroy, -but carried out the law themselves. But we have wandered sadly from your -question. You were talking about the first wife giving her consent?” - -“Yes,” I said, “and you were about to tell me whether it was really and -practically necessary in every instance. You have been here longer, and -have seen more, than I have.” - -“The wife’s consent is by no means necessary, Sister Stenhouse. It may -be asked sometimes as a mere matter of form, and, of course, in the -Endowment House, when she gives the other wives to her husband, she may -be said to give her consent to his marrying them. It is nothing but a -piece of folly to talk about women having the power to withhold their -consent, and it is simply an insult and a mockery for their husbands to -ask it; they well know before they ask that their wives dare not refuse -to give it. But it enables them to boast to the Gentiles that they do not -take other wives until their first wife gives her consent. This is what -is meant by ‘the liberty of the Gospel,’ I suppose, about which Brother -Brigham talks so much. But every one knows perfectly well that this is -all a farce. Without President Young’s consent there can be no marriage -at all; but if it is the will of Brigham, the refusal of the first wife, -and the parents, and the girl herself do not for a moment signify.” - -“But did your husband, Mary, act in this way?” - -“Well, not quite. He told me that, if I refused, it would make not the -slightest difference; and as I believed him, I, of course, went, and did -not make a scene. It would have only made matters worse. Some of the -older sisters came round and talked me over, and explained and insisted, -and ‘laboured’ with me as they called it, until I hardly knew what to -think or do; my mind was quite unsettled. Eliza R. Snow is quite great -at that sort of work. When my husband took his other two wives, he did -not consult me at all, but simply told me that on a certain day I must go -with him to the Endowment House. We went, and he married two sisters on -the same day, but it did not do him much good. They are handsome girls, -but have very bad tempers, and we often have a very unpleasant time. The -second wife, poor child! suffered most when he married the other two. -She did not seem to like me very well at first, which was quite natural; -but, when the other two were brought home, she seemed quite to cling to -me, and I have, strange to say, taken quite a fancy to her. In all our -disputes she always sides with me, and in return I always stand up for -her, as a matter of course. I am getting used to this wretched life; I -try to stifle my love; and I am sorry to say that sometimes I almost hate -every one around me, including my husband. Now and then the old longing -for some one to love, for some one to confide in, comes over me. I felt -like that this morning when I came here, and that is what made me act so -badly.” - -“Say nothing of that, Mary,” I replied. “I wish you would stay with me -while you are in the city.” - -“No,” she said, “we shall be here for a day or two, but I do not think -my husband would like me to stay here altogether. He knows that you are -aware of his attachment to me once, and his promises in the old times, -and very likely he would be a little ashamed to meet you. He’ll make -business an excuse, and in fact he is busy all the day. So I’ll come -round alone as much as I can, and we’ll have a good talk again.” - -I saw her to the door, and then she turned and said, “I’ll come again and -see you, Sister Stenhouse, before we leave the city.” - -Thus saying, she kissed me, laughed with the ghost of her former merry -ways when I first knew her, and said good-bye. I watched her till she was -lost to sight, and then I closed the door, saying to myself, with a sigh, -“Ah, me! can this be the Mary that I once knew?” - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII. - -HOW MARRIAGES ARE MADE IN UTAH—A NEW WIFE FOUND FOR MY HUSBAND. - - -Not long after this, I was enabled to visit my Swiss friend, Madame -Bailiff. Ever since her husband had called upon me in Salt Lake City, I -had watched anxiously for an opportunity of seeing her, for I felt much -interested in learning how time had passed with her since we parted in -Geneva. - -I found her in a little log-cabin of two rooms, with bare walls, bare -floor, and miserably furnished; and in this wretched abode poverty and -polygamy had wrecked the life of my poor friend, whom I had known under -such different circumstances. Here, together with their five children, -lived also the second wife, with _her_ two children. It was with -difficulty that I could recognize in the poor, careworn, broken-spirited, -and ill-clad woman who stood before me, the once gay, light-hearted, -happy, and elegantly-dressed lady whom I had known in Switzerland. -Mormonism had in her case utterly blighted her existence. It seemed to me -hardly possible that so great a change should have been wrought in her in -such a few years as had elapsed since last I saw her. What suffering she -must have endured, I thought, what mental agony, what physical pain, to -write those wrinkled lines of care upon her once handsome face; and, ah! -what a pang I felt at the remembrance that I myself had been instrumental -in leading her into Mormonism and Polygamy. Self-reproach I did not feel, -but sorrow I did. I had thought to lead her into the way of holiness and -heavenly peace by winning her to the religion of the Saints, but that -which I in my enthusiasm had believed would be the greatest blessing -which one poor mortal could communicate to another, had turned to a -curse, and, instead of the happy wife and mother which she once had been, -she had become a victim to that faith which in its very existence is an -insult to womanhood. - -In temper and disposition she was, however, just the same; her -affectionate nature was unchanged. No doubt she read in my features -the painful surprise which I experienced in witnessing her altered -circumstances; but she met me with not a single word of reproach for my -being the cause of her leaving her own dear country. I should not have -blamed her had she hated me, though she knew, of course, that I had -wronged her innocently. - -She told me of the difficulties which they had had to contend with after -their arrival in Utah, and how they had been compelled to part with -almost everything they had, in order to provide bread for their children. -When they left London, they took with them several handsome carpets, -china, glass, and a large quantity of silver ware, besides bedding and -clothing of every description; for they were well-to-do in the world, and -had quite enough for themselves, after they had liberally assisted the -poorer Saints to emigrate. Upon their arrival in Utah, the husband—good -man that he was—was willing to come down to the level of his brethren -and go to farming among them. A brother who knew him in his own country, -and imagined, I suppose, that he could afford to lose, sold him a farm -that he himself had become disgusted with, though, of course, he did not -say so; and when my inexperienced friend, Monsieur Bailiff, found that -nothing could be done with it, he supposed that the land was good enough, -but that he himself was not competent to work it. No one ventured to hint -that he had been cheated, as it was one of the Church authorities who -had sold him the land. After spending upon it all that he possessed, he -was finally compelled to abandon it. They were now very much straitened -in circumstances, and my poor friend told me that she had frequently -been compelled—as they were entirely destitute of money—to take a silver -spoon or fork to the butcher’s market to trade with, and there they drove -a hard bargain with her, and she obtained next to nothing in exchange -for her silver. Her crystal and plate now grace the table of a certain -rich man in Utah. Every article they possessed went in this way at a -most ruinous sacrifice, until nothing remained; and then the husband was -forced to engage in manual labour, while the poor wife employed herself -in whatever feminine work she could obtain; they receiving in return just -what people chose to pay them. In the midst of their troubles the husband -was “counselled” to take another wife. - -“But why did he not refuse to do so?” I asked. - -“If you had been here during the Reformation, you would not ask me such -a question as that. Sister Stenhouse, you ought to thank God that you -were not here then. There were shocking things done at that time, and -the men were all crazy about marrying. They married every woman who was -single, and even little girls who had scarcely reached their teens; it -was a time of terror, and no one dared to rebel.” - -She then told me that her husband had been, as one might say, compelled -to marry a young Swiss girl whom they had brought out to Utah with them -as a domestic. This girl had been a very faithful servant, and Madame -Bailiff had become very much attached to her. During the Reformation the -Bishop visited them, and “counselled” Monsieur Bailiff to take a second -wife. The girl was also “counselled” to marry, and when she said that she -did not know of any one to whom she would like to be married, the Bishop -told her that he himself would find a suitable man. - -“My husband told me what the Bishop had urged him to do,” said Madame -Bailiff, “and we talked the matter over in a practical way. We knew that -the girl would be forced to marry somebody, and that then she would have -to leave us, which would put us to the very greatest inconvenience, for, -situated as we were, we could hardly get on without her assistance. At -the same time, he also would be compelled to obey counsel, and we came -to the conclusion that as there was no way of evading the difficulty -altogether, it would be better for him to marry the girl than to bring a -stranger into the house. So he asked her, and she accepted him, and they -were married. She is a good girl, and tries to do her best, but it is a -great trial to me, and one which I trust you may never be called upon to -bear. My husband is as kind and gentle a man as ever lived, and he has -done all he could to keep me from feeling unhappy; had it been otherwise, -I dare not think what I should have done—I believe I should have gone mad -or died. In our household arrangements, of course it made very little -difference, but it was inexpressibly painful to me, and though I suppose -I shall remain a Mormon till the day of my death, I have learned to hate -Mormonism.” - -Poor Madame Bailiff! Hers was a life of privation and sorrow of late -years. Happy as woman could be in her youthful days, she little dreamed -what Providence had in store for her ere her earthly course had run. With -a faithful and devoted husband; with a charming little family growing -up around her; with all that could make life fair and beautiful. But -that accursed thing—Polygamy—came and poisoned all her happiness, and -blighted all her hopes; and when, but a few months ago, worn out and -weary of life, she left behind her all her sorrows and all her misery, I -could not weep that she had gone to a better land beyond the veil, but -I thanked God that at last, poor soul, her days of trial were for ever -over, and she had entered into her eternal rest. - -One day Brother Brigham sent me word that he wished to see me. - -I went to him, and he told me that he wanted me to become acquainted -with a certain young girl in whom he took a great interest. She was the -daughter, by his first wife, of Jedediah M. Grant, the famous Apostle of -the “Reformation”—her name was Carrie, and she was now an orphan. Brother -Brigham wished me to have her with me every day, for she was not “feeling -well,” he said, and he thought I might do her some good. This “not -feeling well” I afterwards discovered meant that she was almost ready to -apostatize. If she desired it, I was to teach her my business; not that -she needed to follow any profession, for, as President Young explained, -she had a good home; but her mind needed occupation, and he did not care -how she employed her time, so long as she was with me every day and could -be made to “feel well.” - -I listened to all that Brother Brigham said, and accepted the trust in -good faith—not only to please him, but because the girl was an orphan, -and my heart went out towards her even before I had seen her. - -Before I returned home I called at the house where Carrie was stopping, -and arranged that she should come every day to see me, under pretext of -learning the business. Now it so happened that we each conceived a liking -to the other the very first moment we met; we made friends together at -once, and she wanted to begin coming to me the very next day. She was -a sweet-looking and intelligent girl, fair, but fragile, and with a -peculiar expression of melancholy sadness dwelling upon her features, -which gave her a painfully interesting appearance. I never before, or -since, met with a young girl who habitually looked so unhappy; and I -thought that perhaps physical weakness might be the cause, for it was -evident that in constitution she was extremely delicate—I almost feared -consumptive. - -The first day we spent together she told me that her parents had been -among the pioneers to Utah, that her only sister had died on the Plains, -and that she had lost her mother soon after they had arrived in Salt Lake -City. As the only remaining child of her mother, she had been a great -pet with her father, but he too had died about four years previous to -the time of which I speak, and she had never been happy since. “I often -long to die,” she said, “that I might join my mother and father; no one -loves me here, and I have nothing to live for.” Her father had married -four wives after her mother’s death, and they were all very kind to her, -but she did not feel that she had a home. She told me that about six -months before she came to me she had started to go east, to her mother’s -friends, for they had frequently written to her, urging her to come to -them, and that when she was about two weeks’ journey from Salt Lake City, -Brigham Young sent after her, and she was brought back. “But,” she said, -“I shall never be happy here, Sister Stenhouse, I know I never shall; and -why should they not let me leave and go to my relatives?” - -I knew very well that it was of no use for her to try to get away, for -we had no railroad then, and escape was almost impossible. I therefore -tried to make her more cheerful, and told her that a girl as young as -she was—for she was scarcely seventeen—had much to live for. But her -unhappiness had become almost a settled melancholy, and she seemed to be -interested in nothing. Besides which, the task I attempted was all the -more difficult as I was not at all happy myself. - -One day the conversation happened to turn upon Polygamy, and in a moment -I saw that all her trouble arose from that miserable doctrine, and from -that alone. We had not exchanged many words upon the subject when she -exclaimed: “Oh, how I hate Polygamy! God forgive me; but I cannot help -it, Sister Stenhouse! I do hate it; and yet I believe that it is true.” -Poor child! I understood her too well, for her position was exactly mine. -From that moment we were fast friends. - -Here was the child of one of the greatest fanatics that Mormonism has -ever known, one of the wildest advocates of the “Celestial Order of -Marriage,” perfectly loathing the system; and yet, poor girl, believing -it firmly, and believing too that she could not obtain salvation unless -she entered into it. How I pitied and loved that poor girl!—and yet what -strength or consolation could I offer her, being myself as painfully -situated as she was? Our mutual sorrow united us still more painfully -in loving companionship. I had rarely met among the Mormon girls with -one so thoughtful and observing, so kind and gentle. She had not been -with me many weeks before she had entwined herself so completely round -my heart that I was lonely when she stayed away, and I tried to keep her -with me altogether. I tried in every way to make her feel at home when -at my house; and noticing her delicate health, and thinking that she did -not always get those little things to tempt her appetite which an invalid -should always have, I found out many trifles which I believed would -please her, and always tried to get them for her. She seemed to think -much of these little attentions, and I have always believed that she -loved me very dearly. - -Some of my neighbours began to whisper pretty plainly to me that Brother -Brigham had an object in view in asking me to interest myself in Carrie’s -welfare. They told me they believed that my husband, if he had not -already been counselled to marry her, would be before long. Knowing, as -I did, Carrie’s aversion to Polygamy, these suggestions did not trouble -me very much; but I begged my informants not to speak of the matter in my -young friend’s presence, as it would only disturb and annoy her. I was -the more anxious on this point as her health had by that time began very -perceptibly to improve, and sometimes she seemed to be almost joyous and -light-hearted. Sometimes she would sew, and sometimes she read or played -with the children, of whom she was very fond, and I always allowed her to -do just as she pleased. - -One day my talkative friend called to see me. She had not been near the -house for several months, and I think, at her last visit, she must have -taken offence at my telling her that I thought she had not acted wisely -in procuring wives for her husband. She had, however, now an object in -coming which I soon discovered. - -She was shown in, and as soon as she was fairly seated, I observed that, -while talking to me, she was inquisitively scrutinizing Carrie’s face, as -if trying to discover her character or read her thoughts. Suddenly—she -did everything impulsively—she interrupted the conversation, saying: -“Sister Stenhouse, I want to speak to you privately.” I asked her to come -with me into the next room, and she did so, but before I had time to -close the door, she exclaimed: “Allow me to congratulate you; you have -done very wisely!” - -“Congratulate me upon what?” I asked. - -“Upon the excellent choice you have made for your husband,” she replied; -“I knew very well you would ponder over my good counsel and seek another -wife for Brother Stenhouse, and I am certain that my example and my faith -and prayers have helped you, for I have asked the Lord to strengthen you -to do just what you are doing.” - -“Doing!” I said, “what am I doing? I really don’t understand what you -mean.” - -“Oh, nonsense!” she exclaimed; “but I understand, if you don’t. You wish -to keep it a secret, I suppose, until the happy event takes place. And -you are quite right in that, for there are so many busybodies here, and -they do interfere so much in their neighbours’ affairs that it isn’t -pleasant. But of course you needn’t fear _me_—_I_ shouldn’t think of -breathing one single word of the matter, unless you wished me to do so.” - -“I am really at a loss to know what you mean,” I said, very much annoyed -with her. - -“Oh,” she said, “if you think that I am interfering, I will not say -another word, for I should very much dislike to be considered meddlesome. -But you know, my dear Sister Stenhouse, the great interest I have always -felt concerning you; from the very first when I knew you in England I -always prophesied great things of you, but I was a little afraid when I -saw your opposition to Polygamy, and I cannot tell how happy I felt when -I heard yesterday that you had found a wife—and a good wife too—for your -husband.” - -“I find a wife for my husband!” I exclaimed. “That I never would. I -dislike Polygamy far too much to do so. No; if he ever wants another -wife, I shall never help him to find her; he’ll have to get her himself.” - -“Who is that young girl, then, that I saw just now?” she asked; “is that -not Miss Grant?” - -I replied that it was. - -“Well,” said she, “I was told that you had asked her to marry your -husband.” - -“There is no truth in the report,” I said; “I am sure that she has never -thought of such a thing, nor have I, nor has my husband; and I would not -have such a thing spoken of for the world.” - -“Well,” she replied, “I am really quite disappointed. You have a splendid -opportunity, and I do believe that that was what Brother Brigham meant -when he asked me to see after her. In fact, I was told that it was his -only motive, all along.” - -“Then Brother Brigham will soon find out his mistake, I can assure you,” -I answered, “for I never will ask her; and, moreover, if I thought for -a moment that she would ever wish such a thing, much as I love her, I -should then hate her.” - -“My dear Sister,” she said, “how do you expect ever to get salvation? I -suppose you think that is none of my business, and that I should leave -you in the hands of the Lord. But before I go, let me ask you to see -Eliza Snow as soon as you have an opportunity. She will build you up, and -do you a world of good.” - -I told her I needed no “building up;” all I wanted was that my husband -and myself should be left alone, and that people should not meddle with -our affairs. - -After she had gone, her conversation troubled me a great deal. What did -it all mean? Had the busybodies been trying to bring about an alliance -between my husband and Carrie? Had Brigham Young been working all along -to this end? However it might be, I resolved that, at least, Carrie -should know nothing of the matter from me. - -One morning, the Apostle Heber C. Kimball called in his carriage. It was -very early, being only about seven o’clock. Mr. Stenhouse went out to -see him, but in his blunt way he said: “I do not want you, I want Sister -Fanny to take a ride with me.” My husband brought him into the house and -he told me he wanted to have a talk with me. “You must not fix up,” he -said, “or I won’t ride with you. Come along in your wrapper and slippers, -and just put on your sun-bonnet.” - -I told him that I never went out in a sun-bonnet. “Well, then, do it for -the first time,” he said. - -I suggested that I had had no breakfast, and asked him if he would wait -and have some with us. - -“No,” said he; “I have plenty of wives around this town, and we will -find breakfast somewhere.” So I started just as I was, and he told the -driver—who, I think, was one of his own sons—to call round and see “the -folks”—meaning his wives. Then, turning to me, he said: “You never looked -prettier, Sister Fanny; you ought always to wear a sun-bonnet, but you -like dress a great deal too much—you will keep your husband poor, and -then how will he be able to carry out the commands of God? Did you ever -think of that? Then, again, you dress your children too much; it must -take pretty well all your time to make their clothes; and see what it -must cost. Now, I’m going to give you some good advice. Do what my folks -do. I tell them to make a linsey dress for each of the children in the -spring, and let them wear it all the summer; and then, when the winter -comes, it will be so full of grease and dirt that it will be sure to keep -them warm. Now I’m sure you won’t consent to do that with your children, -so it is good counsel thrown away.” I knew well enough that Brother Heber -was only jesting, for apparently he provided very well for his family, -although he allowed them no luxuries. He went on to say: “But that -isn’t what I wanted to speak to you about; I had something else to say. -When is your husband going to marry Miss Grant? That girl has got to be -looked after by some good man and woman, and I think that you and Brother -Stenhouse will do first-class. What do you think?” - -“I should not like my husband to marry her,” I said. - -“And why not, Sister Fanny?” he asked. - -“Because I myself love her,” I replied. - -“Why, that is the very reason why he ought to do it the sooner,” he said, -“and you would continue to love her, and love her all the better too, -when she belonged to your husband, and when you saw how much he loved -her.” He laughed outright as he said this, and told me not to look so -solemn. “Why,” he said, “it’s the finest thing in the world to develope -love in the women; a man never gets so much attention in his life as when -he has got several wives all trying their best to please him.” - -“That may be,” I said; “but who is to pay attention to their wives?” - -“Things have been all upside down in the world, Sister Fanny,” he -answered, “and the Priesthood is going to set them all in order. It is -the women’s place to minister to the men, and the men, in return, will -save them in the Kingdom, if they are good girls.” - -By this time we had driven round several of his fields in the lower part -of the city, and at last we stopped at the house of one of his wives. She -very kindly prepared breakfast for us; after which we called to see two -or three other wives, and then returned home. On the way back he tried to -get me to promise that I would persuade my husband to marry Miss Grant. -This I positively refused to do, although it would have been dangerous -for me not to acquiesce had it not been that Brother Heber was attached -to me and allowed me to say what I liked against Polygamy, laughing at me -and telling me to “hold on” when I became too much in earnest. - -This constant reference to Carrie began to trouble me seriously, -although, so far, I had not yet spoken about it either to her or to my -husband, and did not intend to do it. I felt sure that Carrie, poor -child, was perfectly innocent; she had refused to go to several parties -with us, and had otherwise declined to accompany my husband, and I -believed that I had no cause for uneasiness. - -Thus time passed, and more than a year flew by, and Carrie still remained -with me. Lately I thought that her manner was changed, and that she was -a good deal altered. I noticed that she was shy when in the presence of -my husband, and that she rather avoided him. For a long time I had not -suspected that anything was wrong between them, and the knowledge that -Carrie was troubled, and that my husband was the cause, came upon me -suddenly. She began by staying away for several days at a time, and at -last she told me that she was going away for a while to visit a friend -in the country. She looked so unhappy that I felt sure that all was not -right, and begged her not to go, but she would not listen to me. It was -necessary for her to go, she stated, and would say no more. She bade -me good-bye, and for two months I heard nothing of her, supposing that -she was in the country, and then I was surprised to learn that she was -visiting with a friend in another part of the city, and that she was -very ill indeed. I immediately went to call upon her, and she was very -much pleased to see me, and then I discovered that she had not been in -the country at all, but had been there in the city with her friend. I -could not at the time understand her conduct; but as she, in common -with most other delicate people, was rather capricious, I allowed it to -pass without any comment. She told me that as soon as she felt a little -better she would come and see me; but she never came, and I was somewhat -offended at her supposed neglect, and thought that before I visited her -again I would wait and see whether she first came up to our house. - -All this time, a friend of Carrie’s was in the habit of looking in very -frequently upon some trifling errand or other, and I noticed that she -always waited for the return of my husband, and then made some excuse to -go out with him, and they had long conversations together. There was some -mystery, I clearly perceived, and as a wife and a woman I determined that -it was my duty to find out what that mystery was. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX. - -TAKING A SECOND WIFE:—THE EXPERIENCE OF THE FIRST. - - -I did not presume to ask my husband what it was that he had to talk about -with Carrie’s friend, but I instinctively felt what it might be, and I -was so much troubled in mind that I thought I would never go to see her -again. - -By that time I had learned, as every Mormon wife does learn, never to ask -questions. The wife of a Saint never dares to ask her husband whither he -is going or when he will return. She is not expected to know or care what -business her husband may have on hand when he leaves home in the evening, -after making a most elaborate toilet, with frequent admiration of himself -in the mirror. If the poor wife feels that she _must_ say something, to -give vent to her overwrought feelings, she simply asks in a conscious, -guilty way, when he will be home again; wishing too often in her secret -heart that he might say—Never. Her duty is to be silent and unobservant; -and though some poor women have, when their outraged feelings were -overcharged, inadvertently betrayed curiosity respecting the movements -of the absent ones, they have soon been sternly taught their duty, and -those loving husbands have given them good cause to repent of their -inquisitiveness. - -And who can blame these disconsolate, lonely women, if thus they feel? -Their religion alone is to blame. It has been the destruction of that -sweet confidence which should exist between husband and wife, and it has -divided hearts and interests which should inseparably have been for ever -one. This, slowly but no less painfully, I was beginning to understand. -However earnestly I might try to combat the idea, my life was wretched -with the one continual fear of what I might see or hear of my husband. -I tried to drive away such thoughts, and I called to mind all the acts -of kindness and devotion which he had shown to those whose love my heart -held dear. Sometimes, arguing with myself, I said: “No, _my_ husband -will not deceive _me_; no matter what other men may do or be with their -wives, _my_ husband will be frank and true with me.” - -So I thought then; but I was destined to realize in my own experience how -utterly impossible it is for any man, no matter how honest and truthful -he may naturally be, to practise Polygamy without becoming a hypocrite; -and the more he loves his wife the greater hypocrite he will become, -trying to deceive her with the foolish notion that half his cruelty is -done in attempting to “spare her feelings.” - -My husband thought that he was acting kindly to me when he said nothing -of all that transpired between him and Carrie; but when I saw the visit -of Carrie’s lady-friend so frequently repeated, I began to suspect the -truth, and was much troubled. I was, however, too proud to question him -on the subject, at the risk of getting an evasive answer, and it was -evident that the two persons most intimately interested in the matter -intended that I should be kept in the dark. I saw through all this, and -it did not tend either to restore my peace of mind or to make me more -pleasant in my intercourse with Carrie or my husband. In their conduct I -could see nothing but deception, however good their intention might be, -and I felt that they were treating me as a child. The thought was very -painful to me, and it was only with a great effort that I suppressed it. - -These painful feelings, of course, had a marked effect upon my daily -life. I grew weary, and my health failed, I became thin, and my features -were marked with care and anxiety. When people came to see me, I said -little to them, and their very presence I felt irksome. Mechanically -I went through the daily routine of duty, but my heart was in nothing -that I did. I dared not even trust myself to speak to any one, for fear -of becoming the subject of conversation and attracting the attention of -the authorities, which was not at all desirable, for the position of -a “rebellious woman” in those days was anything but pleasant. I stood -alone. Upon my husband I looked with suspicion; my children were too -young to understand me; Carrie—whom I had taken to my heart, to whom I -had confided my sorrows, whose own welfare had been so dear to me—had, as -I thought, turned against me, like an adder, and there was no one in whom -I could trust. It seemed to me too cruel for Carrie to treat me so, and -yet I could not doubt that she was acting unfaithfully towards me. - -Surrounded by my children, living under the same roof with my husband, -my heart was, nevertheless, filled with a sense of utter loneliness -and desolation. There was no one in whom I could confide, to whom I -might tell my sorrows, and from whose counsel or strength I might derive -comfort. I dared not even go and lay my griefs before God, for I had -been led to believe that all my suffering was caused by an arbitrary -decree which He willed to be enforced. How false a notion of that loving -heavenly Father whose tender care is so manifestly shown in His gentle -dealings with the weakest of His creatures! - -It was now about six months since Carrie left my house, and I was under -the impression that all that time certain well-intentioned sisters had -been doing all they could to bring about a marriage between her and -my husband. Her health, however, was so bad that sometimes for weeks -together she did not leave her room. At the time, of course, I knew -nothing of this, but I afterwards heard of it. When I called upon her, -which I did when I found that she was too ill to come to see me, I -thought she was greatly changed in her manner; but when I thought of -her lonely position, my heart warmed towards her, and I forgot all my -suspicions. Certainly, I wanted to ask her one plain question relative -to my husband, but my pride would not allow me to speak to her on that -subject unless she first mentioned it to me. One day I thought that -she was about to make a confession. Talking indifferently of ordinary -matters, she suddenly said, “I am surprised you ever wished to see me;” -but when I asked her why, expecting that she would now explain what had -so long troubled me, she answered evasively, and nothing more was said. - -With Carrie’s absence from our house the rumours about her which had -troubled me so much somewhat subsided. Nothing could silence the secret -apprehension which continually held my soul in dread; but the fear of -my young friend’s influence once removed, I was comparatively at peace. -It was, however, but the lull before the storm. I soon learned that in -losing Carrie I did not lose Polygamy, and from about that time I can -date my husband’s desire to sustain his brethren in the performance of -their duty, and his wish to act as they did, especially in reference -to the “Celestial Order of Heaven.” Just at that time the “Morrill -Bill” for the suppression of Polygamy was presented to Congress, and -all true Mormons were made to feel that it was their duty to stand by -their leader; and though, in itself, they might see nothing desirable in -Polygamy, yet, if they had not already multiplied wives, it was their -duty to do so without any delay. - -Ever watchful as I was, I noticed little changes in my husband, which -under ordinary circumstances would have escaped my observation. By this -time one all-absorbing idea had taken possession of my mind, and my -husband’s thoughts, I believe, were turned in the same direction—only our -wishes did not exactly coincide. Polygamy was the thought common to both, -but upon its desirability we entertained dissimilar views. - -A man with Polygamy upon his mind was then a creature which I did not -understand, and which I had not fully studied. Some years later, when -I had a little more experience in Mormonism, I discovered several -never-failing signs by which one might know when a man wished to take -another wife. He would suddenly “awaken to a sense of his duties;” -he would have serious misgivings as to whether the Lord would pardon -his neglect in not living up to his privileges; he would become very -religious, and would attend to his meetings—his “testimony meetings,” -singing meetings, and all sorts of other “meetings,” which seemed just -then to be very numerous, and in various other ways he would show his -anxiety to live up to his religion. He would thus be frequently absent -from home, which, of course, “he deeply regrets,” as “he loves so dearly -the society of his wife and children.” The wife, perhaps, poor simple -soul! thinks that he is becoming unusually loving and affectionate, for -he used not, at one time, to express much sorrow at leaving her alone -for a few hours; and she thinks how happy she ought to feel that such a -change has come over her husband, although, to be sure, he was always as -good as most of the other Mormon men. - -My husband was a good and consistent Mormon, and very much like the rest -of his brethren in these matters; and the brethren, knowing themselves -how he felt, sympathized with him, and urged him on, and, by every -means in their power, aided him in his noble attempts to carry out “the -commands of God!” - -One evening, when he came home, he seemed pre-occupied, as if some matter -of importance were troubling his mind. This set me thinking, too. I saw -that he wanted to say something to me, and I waited patiently. “I am -going to the ball,” he presently remarked, “and I am going alone, for -Brother Brigham wishes me to meet him there.” I knew at once what was -passing in his mind, and dared not question him. He went and saw Brigham. -What passed between them I do not know; but, when my husband returned, he -intimated to me that it had been arranged that he should take another -wife. - -The idea that some day another wife would be added to our household was -ever present in my mind, but, somehow, when the fact was placed before me -in so many unmistakable words, my heart sank within me, and I shrank from -the realization that _our_ home was at last to be desecrated by the foul -presence of Polygamy. - -Almost fainting, now that the truth came home to me in all its startling -reality, I asked my husband when he proposed to take his second wife. - -“Immediately,” he replied; “that is to say, as soon as I can.” - -We were silent for some time. My mind was troubled. Had I been able to -consider the whole affair as an outrage upon humanity in general, and -an insult to my sex in particular, I should have replied with scorn and -defiance. Had I implicitly believed in the divinity of the Revelation, I -should have bowed my head in meek submission. But I did neither of these. -The feelings of my heart naturally led me to hate with a most perfect -hatred the very mention of the word Polygamy, while at the same time I -still believed, or tried to make myself believe, that the Revelation -was from God, and must therefore be obeyed. Such was the strange and -contradictory position in which I was placed. - -“Are you not satisfied that it is right for me to take another wife?” my -husband asked. - -“I have never yet really doubted that the Revelation was from God,” I -replied, “for I cannot believe that any man would be so blasphemous -and wicked as to set forth such a revelation in God’s name, unless he -received it as he said he did. If it is from God, of course you are -right to obey it; but if I were to consult my own feelings I would never -consent to live in Polygamy. I would rather risk salvation, and tell the -Lord that He had placed upon me a burden heavier that I was able to bear, -and that I regarded Him as a hard taskmaster. But when the salvation of -my husband and children, to say nothing of my own, is at stake, my wishes -and happiness go for nothing, and I can only consent.” - -From that moment I felt like a condemned criminal for whom there was not -a shadow of hope or a chance of escape. Could I possibly have looked -upon the sacred obligations of marriage as lightly as Mormonism taught -me to regard them, I believe I should have broken every tie and risked -the consequences. But I had vowed to be faithful unto death, and if -this second marriage was for my husband’s welfare, and for the salvation -of us and of our children, I resolved to make the effort to subdue my -rebellious heart, or die in the attempt. For the first time in my life, -I thanked God that I was not a man, and that the salvation of my family -did not depend upon me; for if fifty revelations had commanded it, I -could not have taken the responsibility of withering one loving, trusting -heart. I felt that if such laws were given to us, our woman’s nature -ought to have been adapted to them, so that submission to them might be -as much a pleasure to us as it was to the men, and that we might at least -feel that we were justly dealt with. - -Not long after this, my husband brought me a message from Eliza R. -Snow. She wanted me to take tea with her, and he urged me to accept -the invitation. I did not want to go, for I knew too well her object -in sending for me. She had been talking with my husband about me, I -felt sure, and that was how she came to send the message by him. I -went, however, and, as I anticipated, she wanted to talk with me about -Polygamy, and to try to convince me that it was for our best interests -that my husband should take another wife, and that it was quite time he -did so. - -I told her that he was not yet in a position to do so. “We have quite -a family,” I said, “and I think he should at least be allowed to wait -until he has accumulated a little before he embarrasses himself with new -responsibilities.” - -“And where would the kingdom of God be,” she asked, “if we had all talked -in this way? Let your husband take more wives, and let them help him, and -you will feel blessed in keeping the commands of God.” - -“There would be no good in my husband taking another wife,” I said, -“while I feel as I do now. To be acceptable to the Lord, a sacrifice -should be made willingly and in a proper spirit, and I do not think that -under present circumstances it is proper for him to do this thing.” - -“Let him be the judge of that,” she replied; “do not seek to control him; -he alone is responsible, and therefore let him do as he thinks best.” - -“But,” I said, “he himself does not want another wife yet.” But I spoke -with hesitation, for my heart misgave me. - -“You are mistaken,” she answered; “your husband is a very good man, and -desires to live his religion, and it is a great grief to him to know that -you feel as you do, and you really must try to overcome your opposition. -If you had a loaf of bread to make, and you made it, and it was -pronounced good, do you think it would be of the slightest consequence -what feelings agitated your mind while you were making it, so long as -it was well made? So it is with the Lord. He does not care with what -feelings you give your husband another wife, so long as you do so.” - -This was a miserable attempt at reasoning, to say nothing of its falsity; -and notwithstanding all she said, I still felt that no blessing would -ever attend an unwilling sacrifice, and I told her so. She spoke to me -very kindly, however, and tried to encourage me, and suggested that -Carrie would be a very proper person for my husband to marry. I had now -no longer any doubt in my mind that it had been all “arranged,” and that -opposition on my part would be all in vain. I was indignant at this, for -I believed that, as the Revelation itself said, I—the first wife—ought -first to have been consulted. This, however, I subsequently found was as -false as the system itself. - -I returned home, pondering over what had been said to me, with a feeling -of intense weariness oppressing my heart. I did not know what to think. -It appeared to me that every one had determined that Carrie should be my -husband’s second wife; and I now believed, with my talkative friend, that -Brigham Young had certainly intended it from the beginning. I felt that -I would rather that he should marry almost any one else than her; for I -felt certain that I should hate any woman whom he might marry, no matter -how much I might have loved her before. - -But my mind was soon relieved of its trouble respecting poor Carrie; -for, as I before mentioned, her failing health forbade all thoughts of -marriage, and my husband, after a short time, never spoke to me about -her. The real cause of my distress, however, was by no means removed; it -was determined, without appeal, that my husband should, notwithstanding -any impediment to the contrary, take another wife, whoever that chosen -one might be. My apprehensions, therefore, were not removed; they were -only turned in another direction. - - - - -CHAPTER XXX. - -TRIALS—THE SECOND WIFE CHOSEN—SHADOWS OF LIFE. - - -It is a custom among the Mormon married men—those at least who make any -pretensions to doing what is right, and who wish to spare the feelings of -their wives as much as the degrading system will allow—to make it appear -as if the second wife were chosen by the first, and they go through the -form of consulting with her as to who shall be selected. The husband -will mention the names of several eligible young ladies, among whom is -sure to be the one upon whom he has already set his affections. If the -wife should try to make herself agreeable by suggesting one or another -of these young ladies, some objection is sure to be raised. One is too -thoughtless; the relations of another are not quite so agreeable as -they might be; and the temper of a third is said to be not very good. -In this way, one after another is taken off the list, until only one -remains—the bright particular star of whom all along the husband has been -thinking—and if the wife should make any objections to _this_ one, the -husband, of course, has a ready answer. In most cases her extreme youth -is an excuse for everything; she will have plenty of time to learn, and -will be the more ready to be taught. - -When once they have obtained the reluctant consent of their wives, it -is astonishing how bright and cheerful these Mormon husbands become. -Notwithstanding all that they have said to the contrary, it is evident -that Polygamy is no trial to _their_ faith. They say that it is as great -a cross to them as it is to their wives, but somehow or other they take -very kindly to it. - -It was soon settled who should be the honoured maiden to whom my husband -should pay his addresses. Her name was Belinda, and she was the daughter -of the Apostle Parley P. Pratt. I of course was not expected to ask any -questions or evince any curiosity respecting the girl or my husband’s -relations towards her. I had given my consent, I had acted my part, or -at least all the part that was expected of me; I had fulfilled my duty -as a Mormon first wife when I agreed to another wife being taken; and, -henceforth, all that transpired was—so the Elders would have said—no -business of mine. - -My husband’s intended certainly was very young—almost too young for a -bride she would have been considered in any other community—and I must in -fairness allow that she was very handsome. It is of the utmost importance -that a Mormon girl should marry young. Women everywhere are never anxious -to grow old, but among the Mormons age is especially dreaded by the -women; for when years have robbed them of their personal attractions, in -most cases they lose all hold upon their husbands’ affections, and find -themselves obliged to give place to prettier and more youthful rivals. -A woman’s position in the world to come, as I have before mentioned, -depends, so the Elders say, very much upon the number of children she -has borne in this; it is, therefore, a consideration of the very first -importance that she should marry as early in life as possible, and -this obligation is never for a moment overlooked by the refined and -pure-minded Mormon men. - -And now began the “painful task” of wooing the young lady. My husband -told me that it was “a very painful duty,” and as an obedient wife I -felt bound to believe him. It was, of course, no pleasure to him to pay -his addresses to an interesting young girl; it was no anxiety to be with -her which made him hasten away to the damsel’s house of an evening. Oh, -dear, no! it was pure principle, love for the kingdom of God, and “a -very _painful_ task!” He seemed, however, to bear it remarkably well, -and manifested a zeal which was perfectly astonishing to me, considering -the circumstances. In fact, I felt it my duty to restrain him a little -for the sake of his health, for he seemed so anxious to perform his -“task” properly that he could scarcely spare time to take his meals; -but, regardless of his own feelings, he did not pay much attention to my -suggestions. - -But, deeply as I sympathized with my husband, there were times when I -felt that mine was indeed no imaginary sorrow, and that nothing could -lull the storm that had gathered in my breast. The affliction which -I had so long dreaded was now right at my door, and the most painful -feelings agitated my mind. Sometimes I shut myself up in my own room -and tried to reason with myself; then I would kneel, and pray, and weep -with passionate emotion; and again I would pace the floor, my heart -overflowing with anger and indignation. I never, at that time, knew -what it was to be happy, for I felt that I was a burden and hindrance -to my husband, and I longed to die. I had loved him so devotedly that I -could not even now cast him from my heart, and, though I felt bitterly my -position, I believed that he would not willingly wound me, and that he -was acting from the purest of motives. But it was all in vain. I could -not change my nature, and my heart would rebel. - -It would be impossible for me to tell the thousand annoyances and -indignities to which I was forced to submit—trials which might appear too -trifling even to name, but which to a wife, under such circumstances, -were crosses which she found it hard enough to bear. My husband knew -nothing of these things, and, had he done so, it is more than probable -that he would have considered it weakness in me to be troubled about -matters of such small consequence—little actions and foolish words which -he would have said I ought to have treated with contempt. It was easy -to say that, but not so easy to do. Let any wife picture to herself -how she would feel, if, after schooling her heart to submission, after -realizing that she was no longer to be first and dearest in her husband’s -affections, she were to be constantly hearing the friends and relations -of the young girl to whom her husband was engaged, boasting of his -devotion to her, and openly expressing their belief that he had never -loved before! How would any wife be pleased if, whenever her husband’s -intended received a valuable present from him, she were particularly -informed of the fact, and a thousand little aggravating details were -added to make her, if possible, more miserable? - -A woman can nerve herself to endure almost anything, and outwardly she -may conceal her feelings, but there are limits beyond which endurance -is not possible. A chance meeting with the girl who has superseded her -in her husband’s love,—or worse still, should she chance to surprise -the affectionate couple _tête-á-tête_,—is sufficient to dispel all her -good resolutions and to destroy that tranquillity of mind which she -finds it so difficult to preserve. She becomes sick at heart, nervous, -and entirely unfitted for her duties. I have frequently heard Mormon -women say that, notwithstanding their husbands had been for many years -polygamists, they could never see the other wives without a feeling of -anger and indignation arising in their hearts. I know that in my own case -I never became reconciled to the system. - -My husband was called away to the Eastern States upon business, and his -marriage was postponed. I thought that the present would be a good time -to show her some little attentions, which I believed it was my duty to -do. The idea of coming in contact with her was certainly not at all -pleasant; but I felt that it was only right for me to act in a friendly -manner towards her, however painful it might be. She was the cause of -much sorrow to me, but I could not blame her, for she had been born and -brought up in the system, and, of course, supposed it true. - -Belinda was a very nice girl, and, under other circumstances, I believe -I should have liked her very much. I looked upon her as little more than -a child, and my husband has frequently told me that he also regarded her -in that light; but to me it was of small consequence that he thought of -her as a child, so long as he acted towards her as a woman. Now that -he was away from home, there was no danger that she would meet him, -so I invited her in a friendly way to call upon me. She came, and I -had one or two other ladies present, for I was not like my husband in -that particular—_I_ had no anxiety to be alone with her. My effort to -cultivate a friendly feeling towards her was not very successful. There -was a coldness and restraint on both sides which we could not overcome, -and I felt not a little relief when the evening was over. Subsequently I -renewed the attempt, but to no purpose; her very presence in my house, -and among my children, seemed in itself an insult to me. - -During my husband’s absence my poor friend Carrie Grant had been daily -growing worse in health. I had once asked my husband if there was any -truth in the rumours that I had heard of his attachment to her, but he -had assured me that there was no foundation for them. - -Poor Carrie! Hers was a short and unhappy life; even her little dream of -love was overclouded by disappointment. She was now constantly confined -to her room, and whenever it was possible I used to call upon her, and -attempted to make her feel more happy and cheerful. She used to ask me to -talk with her about Mormonism. “You know,” she said, “that I have never -known any other religion, and I believe that this is right, though it -does not make me happy. My father loved Mormonism so much that I feel it -_must_ be right; the fault is in my own evil nature, that does not bend -to the will of Heaven.” - -One day she said to me: “I am getting worse, Sister Stenhouse, and I am -glad of it, for I shall die. I am of no good here—there is nothing for me -to do; if I lived, I should only cause trouble; it is better as it is.” - -“Carrie,” I said, “you must not talk like that. You are still very young, -and probably will live for many years, and you do not know what future -may lie before you.” - -“Do not blame me too much,” she replied, “for I am not the only unhappy -girl in the city. I know many girls who are very miserable. Married women -think that they are the only ones who suffer, while we girls know that -nowhere upon the face of the earth can be found such an unhappy set as we -are. Why did Brigham Young keep me from going to my friends in the East? -I should have been happier then; I should have felt better. But now I -want to die, and I am weary waiting for death.” - -In this melancholy mood I found her one day, when she appeared -particularly sad. She had been ill then about ten months; but her loving -blue eyes were just as bright as ever, and I could see very little change -in her, except that she was not able now to leave her couch without -assistance, and she spoke as if it fatigued her very much. It was quite -impossible to arouse her from the state of melancholy into which she had -fallen, and it seemed to me that she could not last long. I offered to -take her to my house, and said I would nurse her there and take care of -her; but she said she was very kindly treated by her father’s family, and -did not wish to change. She seemed to cling to me as if she could not -bear that I should leave her, and she told me she had something on her -mind that troubled her; she wanted to have a long talk with me about it, -but not that day, she said. - -As the end was fast approaching, she one day said: “I want to tell you -now, Sister Stenhouse, what I spoke of before, if you are willing to -listen and will not be angry with anything I say. Remember, I am dying, -or I never would speak to you as I am going to.” - -I told her of my great love for her, and that nothing that she could say -would change that love. - -“You do not know what I want to ask you, or you would not say so,” she -replied; “and I so dread to lose your love that I am afraid to tell you -what is in my mind. But you know that I am dying, and you will not be -very hard with me.” - -She was then silent for some time, as if too much fatigued to continue -the conversation. “No, I cannot tell you to-day,” she said at last; “I -want you to love me one day longer.” - -I urged her not to doubt that my love towards her could never change, -and told her that it was better for her to speak at once and relieve her -mind. She took my hand, and looked long and tenderly at me, and then she -said: “I will tell you all; and if your love can stand that test, then -indeed you _do_ love me.” - -I encouraged her, and she began: “Would you hate me if I told you that I -loved your husband?” - -“No,” I replied, “I would not hate you, Carrie.” I said no more, for it -seemed to me that it would be wrong of me to tell her of my suspicions, -and all that I had suffered at the thought that my husband had conceived -an affection for her. - -“Can you possibly answer me as calmly as that?” she said. “I thought that -the very mention of such a thing would almost kill you, for I saw how -much you loved your husband, and, ah! how I have suffered at the thought -of telling you! But that is not all I wanted to say, or I need never have -spoken to you at all. I wanted to ask you to do me one last kindness, -and then I think I shall die happy. You know that we have been taught -that Polygamy is absolutely necessary to salvation, and if I were to die -without being sealed to some man I could not possibly enter the celestial -kingdom. My friends wished me to be sealed to one of the authorities of -the Church, but I cannot bear the idea of being sealed to a man whom I do -not love. I love your husband, and I want you to promise that I shall be -sealed to him. If I had thought that I should recover, I never would have -let you know this, for I would not live to give you sorrow. But, when I -am gone, will you kneel by your husband’s side in the Endowment House, -and be married to him for me? Will it pain you much to do that for me, -Sister Stenhouse?” - -I felt so strangely as I listened to all this, that I could not utter a -single word, and she continued: “We shall then be together in eternity, -and I am happy at the thought of that, for I think I love you even -better than I love him. And then I believe we shall have overcome all -our earthly feelings and shall be prepared to live that celestial law, -and perhaps we may prefer it, for no doubt we shall know no unhappiness -there.” - -The exertion of talking seemed to be too much for her, and she remained -silent for some time. I felt ashamed that I had allowed my feelings to -influence me at such a moment, for while she had been speaking I had -allowed my thoughts to travel back over the past year; and now that she -admitted her love for my husband, very many circumstances came painfully -to my recollection and confirmed all that she said. I resolved, however, -not to question her, but to allow her to tell me just what she pleased. -So I knelt down by her side and whispered into her ear a solemn promise -that I would do all that she desired. Poor girl! how I felt for her! -When I had given her this pledge, she appeared much relieved and told me -freely all that had passed between my husband and herself, and she said -she had left my house simply because she could not endure to cause me any -sorrow. I told her of my husband’s contemplated marriage with Belinda -Pratt, and she appeared a good deal troubled at it. “Let me be second,” -she said, “for then I shall feel that I am nearer to you, and I want you -always to think that, when you die, if I have the power, I shall be the -first to meet you and take you by the hand.” - -Thus we talked together for a long time, and it was with painful interest -that I listened to what she said. It was a singular interview—a wife -receiving from a young girl the confession that she loved her husband; -that he had fully returned her affection, and had even talked with her -about marriage; the girl requesting the wife to be married for her to her -own husband; and the wife, full of tender love towards the girl, freely -giving her a promise that she would do so. In my sorrow at parting from -her, and the great affection that I felt towards her, all feelings of -jealousy were utterly forgotten. Before I left I said: “Carrie, whether -you live or die, you shall be married to my husband, if he ever enters -into Polygamy; and I say this although I do not doubt that he will do so, -and at the same time I think that you will live.” - -I really believed that she might recover; for now this burden was off -her mind, I thought she would have strength to subdue her sickness, and -at first it seemed as if this would really be the case. The next day she -appeared so much better that her friends all became hopeful, and when I -told her that I had written to my husband and had told him, that since he -had made up his mind to go into Polygamy, I wished him to marry her, she -appeared so happy, and showed her joy in so many innocent ways, that I -could not be angry. - -“How do you think he will feel,” she said, “when he gets your letter? Do -I look pretty well to-day? And do you think that if I continue to get -better I shall have regained my looks before he comes home?” - -“Oh,” I said, humouring her, “you will look quite pretty by the time he -returns; I shall be really jealous of you.” - -In an instant the thought of how much all mention of her in connexion -with my husband must be painful to me, occurred to her mind, and she -begged me to forgive her for her carelessness. “No,” said she, “I will -try never to give you pain, and you must always love me.” - -For some days this improvement in her appearance continued, and I thought -and hoped that we should soon have her round again. I really wished her -to live now, for if it was absolutely necessary that Mr. Stenhouse _must_ -practise Polygamy, I would prefer that, rather than any other woman, he -should marry her, for I felt that she would understand me as no one else -could. - -Thus, after all, I really had selected a second wife for my husband! - -But the change in poor Carrie’s looks was altogether deceptive. News came -to me one morning that she was very much worse, and I hastened to see -her. As I entered the room, her eyes brightened, and she said: “I am glad -that you have come, Sister Stenhouse, for I feel that I am going soon.” -Then, after a pause, she added, holding up her hands—“Do you know what -that means?” The fingernails were turning blue. - -“That means death,” she said; “and it is better so.” - -After this we conversed together for some time upon various topics of -special interest to her in the position in which she then was, and -presently she said, as if asking a question, “You will keep your promise, -I know.” - -“Carrie,” I answered, “if there is anything that I can say or do that -will make you feel more certain that I will keep my promise, if I live to -do so, tell me, and I will do it.” - -“I am afraid,” she said, “that, after all, he never loved me. He pitied -my lonely situation and was so kind and good to me, that I learned to -love him, and those meddlesome sisters tried to get him to marry me, but -I would not be false to you. Then we both thought it was best not to tell -you, as it would make you grieve, although it never could take place. -Even now, had I not known that I was dying, I never would have told you. -But you will not love me less when you think of me after I am gone?” - -I told her that my affection for her would never change, and I talked -with her, and tried to soothe her dying moments, and to make her feel -less lonely; and thus the morning passed away. In the afternoon she was -silent and apparently unconscious, and before another day dawned she had -passed away to her rest. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI. - -MARRIAGE FOR THE DEAD—ENTERING INTO POLYGAMY—THE NEW WIFE. - - -The following evening I went round again to the house, to gaze once more -at the form of my dear friend. She was lying in her coffin, dressed for -the grave, and I looked at her long and tenderly as she rested sleeping -there. Her features were peaceful and natural as if in slumber; an -expression of calm tranquillity hovered around her countenance, and -in the repose of death she seemed almost happy. Poor girl! her life -had been short indeed, and she had known but little pleasure; but I -believed that she was now beyond the reach of earthly sorrow and earthly -disappointment, happy in that land where suffering and tears are all -unknown. “There shall be no night there,” the Lord of that other life had -said. Sorrow and sighing shall flee away from that bright and glorious -land; and the grief and pain, which on earth are the portion of so many -tried and weary hearts, shall find no entrance into that eternal rest -which our Father in heaven has prepared for us beyond the floods of death. - -Oh, better far! I thought, it is that thus she should pass away. True, -she has seen but little of life, and has not tasted many of its joys; -but, as a compensation, how much has she been spared! She was so gentle -and so sensitive, so unfit to battle with the stern realities of -existence, that I felt she had gained rather than lost in being taken -away in the morning of her life. - -I now expected very soon to be called upon to undergo the most painful -ordeal that any wife can be required to pass through: I was to give my -husband another wife—such is the sacrifice demanded of every Mormon woman. - -The thought of doing this was worse than death to me. I felt injured, -humiliated and degraded by it, and yet I still tried to believe that it -was the will of God, and must therefore be right. To me, this outrage -upon all the purest feelings of womanhood seemed more like the will of -men—men of the basest and most unholy passions. It was repulsive to me in -whatever form it was presented, but still I reproached my own rebellious -heart for feeling so, for I had been told that the ways of the Lord were -past finding out, and, however unlike Him this Revelation might appear, -we Mormon women had been taught that it was our duty to bend our wills -and to suffer in unquestioning and uncomplaining silence. - -As the time approached, I felt like a condemned criminal awaiting the day -of execution. A sense of apprehension, a dread of coming evil, was ever -present to my mind, and everything appeared to me through the medium of -my griefs. To a certain extent, my husband also suffered, for it would be -impossible, I think, for any man to see his wife suffering so intensely -without feeling for her, and I sometimes believed that his sympathy for -me was so great, that, if he had dared, he would even then have refused -to obey the counsel of the Priesthood. - -Then, too, he had a little trouble of his own, for he began to realize -that this innovation upon the sanctity of our home would make a great -change in his future—his freedom would be gone. - -However gratifying it may be to a man’s feelings to know that there is -no limit to his privileges, and that he is always at liberty—no matter -how many wives he may already possess—to fall in love with every pretty -girl he meets, and marry her if she consents; yet every intelligent man -must be conscious that it can be no easy matter to keep peace between -many wives in one house, and that, if he wishes to act rightly by all, he -must train himself to be scrupulously just, never showing any partiality -in look or deed, or even by a word. There are many such men among the -Mormons. They are conscientious and good men, who try to live their -religion, but who at the same time desire to act kindly towards their -wives. My husband began to realize the great responsibility that he was -about to take upon himself, and, seeing his thoughtful and troubled look, -I tried to hide my own feelings; for every true wife knows that nothing -so powerfully arouses a woman to struggle with her own sorrows as the -knowledge that her husband is unhappy. - -The dreaded day at length arrived, the day which for so long, and -with such painful forebodings, I had anticipated. I had spent a very -wakeful and unhappy night, and felt very sick and nervous, for I was -about to become a mother, and my health was anything but strong. I -hardly felt as if I should have courage to go through that day. I was, -however, compelled to nerve myself to the task, and I began to make my -preparations for going to the Endowment House. The only thing that gave -me strength was the thought that my husband had consented that I should -go through the ceremony of being married to him that day for Carrie; for -even then I supposed that those who would be married in heaven must first -be married on earth, and that, too, by those who had received authority -from on high. - -Ever since I had first embraced Mormonism I had been entirely cut off -from Gentile society, although living in the Gentile world. Abroad, and -also when in New York, the cares of a family kept me very much at home, -and the continual state of apprehension in which I was rendered me averse -to visiting among friends. Thus it was that I never conversed freely with -any one who could have informed me truthfully of the origin of Mormonism, -and consequently I brooded over my religion as a melancholy fact; but, -though with moments of weakness and wavering, I never thoroughly doubted -its divine origin. The terrible sacrifice which was about to be required -of me might, I thought, be painful to make, but it was no less the will -of God. I must submit, whatever the effort might cost me. - -The morning was bright and lovely—a morning calculated to inspire happy -hopes and pleasant feelings; but to me it brought nothing but fear and -trembling. Even the innocent prattle of my children annoyed me, and they, -not knowing how deeply I was suffering, looked at me with wonder in -their eyes. Oh, I thought, surely my husband will at length comprehend -the greatness of the love I bear him? surely he will now appreciate the -sacrifice I make for his sake and for my religion? Even now, if I did -not know that he believes this doctrine to be true, and he would feel -condemned if, through any opposition of mine, he were not allowed to -practise it, I would at the last moment dash this bitter cup from my lips -and take my chance of the consequences in a future state! - -Utterly cast down and broken-hearted, I felt almost as if the Lord -Himself had forsaken me, and there was no one to whom I could look for -aid. I could not go to my husband in that hour for sympathy; for I well -knew that his thoughts must be with his intended bride, and that my -sorrows would only trouble him at a time when he must desire to be at -peace. Besides which, I was too proud to plead for love at a shrine -that I felt should rightfully be all my own. And then, too, I knew not -but what he might tell _her_ of my feelings; and it would be too great a -humiliation for me should she think me jealous of the position which she -now occupied, and her influence over my husband. - -With such feelings I went to the Endowment House. There at the altar I -was to give proof of my obedience and of my faith in my religion, by -placing the hand of the new wife in that of my husband. The thought was -almost madness. To have followed my husband to the grave would have been -a terrible blow to me, but to live to see him the husband of another -woman was something that seemed to me beyond endurance. Notwithstanding -every effort of faith, doubts would arise, and in bitterest anguish I -thought—this is more like the work of cruel man than of God. Why should -man have this power over woman, and she so helpless? Surely a just and -impartial God can have nothing to do with this! There was a darkness -before my eyes, and, struggle as I might, I could see no ray of light—no -glimmering of hope. - -First, my husband was married to Miss Pratt; and then to me for Carrie! -Thus I fulfilled my pledge to my departed friend. I had found, before -going to the Endowment House, that I could not have Carrie sealed to my -husband next to me, for Belinda had objected, and her mother had appealed -to Brigham Young about it. They told me that he had said that the living -had claims before the dead, although my own feelings would have led me -to think otherwise. Brigham Young performed the ceremony. He sat at the -end of the altar and we three knelt down—my husband on one side, and Miss -Pratt and myself on the other. Speaking to me, Brigham Young asked: “Are -you willing to give this woman to your husband to be his lawful wife for -time and for all eternity? If you are, you will signify it by placing her -right hand within the right hand of your husband.” - -I did so; but what words can describe my feelings? The anguish of a whole -lifetime was crowded into that one single moment. The painful meaning -of those words, “for all eternity,” withered my soul, and the unending -contract which my husband had made with another woman was practically a -divorce from me. I had now laid everything upon the altar of sacrifice, -for I had given away my husband. What more could the Lord require of me -that I was not prepared to do? - -[Illustration: THE CRISIS OF A LIFE—ENTERING INTO POLYGAMY. - -_To face p. 296._] - -I was bewildered and almost beside myself, and yet I had to hide my -feelings. Hope was for ever banished from my life. To whom could I -look for sympathy among those who were around me? They were most of -them men who had ruthlessly wrecked the lives and lacerated the hearts -of hundreds of women before my turn came, and the sight of an unhappy -wife was so common in their experience that it was more likely to awaken -their anger than their pity. I felt this instinctively, and I resolved -that they should never know how much my poor heart was torn. My husband, -it is true, was there. _My_ husband! Was he not now the husband of -another woman, and therefore no longer belonging to me? I knew that I -never could overcome my early teaching sufficiently to _feel_ that this -was right, though such was my wretched fanaticism that I mentally and -verbally assented to it. I felt that now I stood alone—our union was -severed, there could never be any copartnership between that other wife -and myself—no, never! Salvation or no salvation, it was impossible that I -could ever love her. From that day I began to hide all my sorrows from my -husband, and it was but very seldom that I uttered a word of discontent, -and when I expressed what I felt, it was in anger; but never in sorrow -seeking sympathy. - -I remember when we returned home—that home which had now lost its charm, -for the young wife was to live there—my husband said to me: “You have -been very brave, but it is not so hard to bear, after all, is it?” I had -hidden my feelings so well that he really thought that I was indifferent. -But during the remainder of the day, how I watched their looks and -noticed every word! To me their tender tones were daggers, piercing my -heart and filling me with a desire to revenge myself upon the father of -my children. Oh, what fanatics we Mormon women have been ever to have -believed for a single moment that a just and loving Father and God would -have given a command that in almost every instance has produced such -fearful results upon those who should have been happy wives and mothers, -and consequently upon their children! Indeed, even then it made me feel -that there was no justice in heaven, if this love which is the best part -of woman’s nature—this love that we had always believed was a part of -divinity itself—this principle, without which there would be nothing -worth living for—if this was to be our greatest curse, and the woman -who showed herself most actuated by this gentle influence was to be the -greatest victim. - -I felt that day that if I could not get away by myself alone and give -expression to my overcharged feelings, I should certainly lose my reason. -I was utterly miserable. It was only in the dead of night, in my own -chamber, that I gave way to the terrible anguish that was consuming me. -God and my own soul can alone bear witness to what I suffered in that -time of woe. That night was to me such as even the most God-forsaken -might pray never to know; and morning dawned without my having for a -moment closed my eyes. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXII. - -DOMESTIC ARRANGEMENTS OF THE SAINTS:—POLYGAMY FROM A WOMAN’S STANDPOINT. - - -I was now to realize personally, in my own home life, what Polygamy -actually was. Hitherto I had observed how other women suffered, and how -other men treated their wives; but now the painful reality had come to my -own door, and I was to experience the effects of the system upon myself, -and, instead of noting the conduct of other men, I should be able to -observe the change which Polygamy might work in my own husband. - -How little do the Mormon men know what it is in the truest sense to have -_a_ wife, though they have so many “wives” after their own fashion! -Almost imperceptibly to the husband, and even to the wife herself, a -barrier rises between them from the very day that he marries another -woman. It matters not how much she believes in the doctrine of plural -marriage, or how willing she may be to submit to it, the fact remains -the same. The estrangement begins by her trying to hide from him all her -secret sorrows; for she feels that what has been done cannot be undone -now, and she says: “I cannot change it; neither would I if I could, -because it is the will of God, and I must bear it; besides, what good -will it do to worry my husband with all my feelings? He cannot help me; -and is he not another woman’s husband?” Then comes, perhaps, the painful -thought, “I have no longer any desire to confide in him.” Or it may be -that she detects some familiarity between her husband and the other wife; -and she feels bitterly towards both, for, strive as she may, human nature -cannot be altogether crushed out. - -That was a time of great misery to me, much as I tried to control my -feelings. Day by day I strove to hide from my heart even the knowledge -of my own unhappiness; and when I could no longer endure, I would lock -myself in my room and give vent to the anguish that was consuming me. I -realized, however, that this continual conflict of feeling was unfitting -me for my duties. Everything was becoming a trial to me. I could not -bear to be spoken to; the prattle of my children, that had always been -so dear to me, was now discordant to my feelings; and all their little -questionings were irksome. I determined that this should no longer be -the case; I would battle with my own heart; I would henceforth devote my -whole life—worthless as that life appeared to have become—to the welfare -of my little ones. This was a conclusion that hundreds of wretched Mormon -wives have arrived at; and when this is the case, there is some hope for -them. But many give way to despair, and go down broken-hearted to their -graves. - -How terribly these Mormon men deceive themselves! When peace, or rather -quiet, reigns in their homes, they think that the Spirit of God is there. -But it is not so. It is a calm not like the gentle silence of sleep, -but as the painful stillness of death—the death of the heart’s best -affection and all that is worth calling love. All _true_ love has fled, -and indifference has taken its place. The very children feel it. What do -they, what can they, care about their father, whom they so seldom see? - -Some wives, afraid of creating a prejudice against themselves and of -being forsaken altogether, deceive their husbands, and make them believe -that they are satisfied. It must be admitted that, in acting thus, these -wives are not always actuated by a fear of losing the society or love of -their husbands, for, in Polygamy, love dies a natural death; but it is -galling to a woman’s pride to have it said that she has been cast off for -another. Then, too—and some women would consider this the most important -reason of all—the best provision is usually made for the home where the -husband stops most frequently; and the wife, if not for her own sake, at -least for her children’s, will be anxious to have a well-provided house. -This is only natural. The “divine” plan has always been worked out in a -very human way. - -When a man has several wives, there is, of course, no necessity for him -to stay with an unhappy or mopish one, as he can always find a more -pleasant reception elsewhere. Men who can really believe that women are -satisfied and happy under such a system must be entirely ignorant of -human nature. - -When a man has more than one wife, his affections must of necessity be -divided; he really has no home in the truest sense of the word; his -houses are simply boarding-places. Should he have all his wives in one -house, as is often the case, they are then all slaves to the system; -each one is watching the others, and they know it—trying to discover -something that can be secretly told to the husband to draw away his -affections from the rest. What more miserable position could be imagined? - -There is, however, no fixed principle regulating Mormon men in the -management of their families; every one is at liberty to do as he thinks -best, and scarcely two families are governed alike. When Salt Lake City -was first settled, the people had to live as best they could, and a man -was glad to get even one roof under which he and all his wives might -be sheltered. Now, when the husband is wealthy, he generally provides -separate homes for his wives. Some wealthy men, however, still have all -their wives and families together. - -I have in my mind, as I write, a very prominent Mormon, who has -half-a-dozen wives; and he divides his time among them after this -fashion. The first week he stays with the first wife; the next week he -is with the second; then he goes back to the first. The fourth week he -passes with the third wife; then he returns for another week to the -first. And thus he continues to give one week to the first wife, and the -next to one of the other five in turn, until he has blessed them all with -his presence. Now, it would at a casual glance appear that this first -wife has by far the largest share of her husband’s society; but if the -truth must be told, it must be admitted that the husband is not quite so -generous as he appears. The last wife of this good man is a young and -pretty girl, and she lives with the first wife, and thus his devotion to -the latter is rewarded by the presence of the former. Each of the other -wives has one week of his society and attentions in every eleven—about -five weeks apiece of companionship with their husband in the course of -a whole year. Other men with the same number of wives pass constantly -between one house and another; they can never be found when wanted; their -lives are one eternal round, and they may be said to have no real abiding -place. - -In every settlement in Utah, long, low-roofed houses may be seen with a -row of doors and windows alternating. Even in Salt Lake City, much as -it has changed of late years, such houses may still be found. To every -door and window there is, of course, a wife; and the furniture of her -room consists of a bed, three chairs, and a table. Then, if the man is a -very devout Mormon and wishes to increase his kingdom by adding another -wife to the inhabitants of the long many-doored house, a waggon-box is so -arranged as to form a sleeping apartment for the new comer; or, what is -more likely, one of the old wives is put into the waggon-box, and the new -one takes her place. - -A house with two wings is rather a favourite style with those men, who, -to silence their conscience and the priesthood, conclude to take “just -_one_ extra wife,” and no more. The wives, with their children, occupy, -respectively, each a wing; and the entrance-door opens into a parlour, -which serves as a reception-room for both families. The husband in this -case spends a week on one side of the house and a week on the other, -alternately; and thus, by an impartial division of his attentions, -he preserves peace in his family. A man who is comfortably off can, -of course, arrange his domestic affairs so as to avoid, as far as is -possible, the inconveniences of the system, but a poor man is forced to -submit to circumstances. Many men have entered into Polygamy, with two, -three, and even four wives, all, with their children, living together -under one roof—in one room—in the most disgraceful and barbarous manner; -but even for this the leaders were really more to blame than the poor -deluded men themselves; for the command to “Build up the Kingdom!—build -up the Kingdom!”—in other words, take many wives and raise up large -families—has been so constantly and imperatively insisted upon that good -sense and propriety have at last been entirely overlooked. - -[Illustration: POLYGAMY IN LOW LIFE—THE POOR MAN’S FAMILY. - -POLYGAMY IN HIGH LIFE—THE PROPHET’S MANSION. - -_To face p. 302._] - -In a very large house, with many wives, there is greater safety and peace -for the husband than in a small house with only two wives. When there -are only two apartments, the husband, if not in one, is supposed to be -in the other, and the neglected wife frequently expresses her opinion of -her rival in the opposite room in very powerful language. Scenes may be -witnessed in such households which are too shocking to disclose. Brigham -Young was conscious of this when he said he “would stand no more fighting -and scratching around him”; and yet, in the face of all this, he dares to -tell the people that this is the “Order of _Celestial_ Marriage.” With -many wives living together in a large house there are many advantages. -The whereabouts of the husband is not so easily discovered, and the -unhappy or jealous wife is at a loss to know upon whom to vent her -ire. On this account even men with small means prefer to have three -wives instead of two, as each wife, not knowing which of the other two -she ought to hate the most, divides her jealousy. It takes, however, -a wise man to know how to live in Polygamy, so as to balance all the -conflicting interests and obtain a little peace, if happiness is out of -the question. - -Where the husband is a rich man and has abundant wealth wherewith to -supply the wants of his numerous wives and children, and to furnish all -the necessary accommodation that a growing family demands, much of the -jealousy and ill-feeling inseparable from Polygamy can, to a certain -extent, be avoided. - -It would be quite impossible, with any regard to propriety, to relate all -the horrible results of this disgraceful system. It has debased the minds -and degraded the lives of good and honest men and women, while those -who naturally had a tendency towards evil have become a hundred times -worse. Marriages have been contracted between the nearest relatives; -and old men tottering on the brink of the grave have been united to -little girls scarcely in their teens; while unnatural alliances of every -description, which in any other community would be regarded with disgust -and abhorrence, are here entered into in the name of God, and under the -sanction of a “Revelation” supposed to proceed from the pure and holy -Saviour. - -I was much shocked and disgusted when first I went to Utah, to find a man -whom under other circumstances I had known in London, living with two -sisters whom he had married in the manner I have just described, and, -strange as it may appear, it was not with them a matter of necessity. -When I knew the husband in Europe, I considered him a man of education -and refinement; but I certainly was mistaken, for no man whose nature was -at all sensitive would have lived as he did. His wives, too, who had been -considered highly respectable English girls, were not ashamed of their -degraded position; they professed to believe in bringing the world back -to its primitive purity and innocence. - -It is quite a common thing in Utah for a man to marry two and even three -sisters. I was well acquainted with one man who married his half-sister, -and I know several who have married mother and daughter. I know also -another man who married a widow with several children; and, when one of -the girls had grown into her teens, he insisted on marrying her also, -having first by some means won her affections. The mother, however, was -much opposed to this marriage, and finally gave up her husband entirely -to her daughter; and to this very day the daughter bears children to her -step-father, living as wife in the same house with her mother! - -In another instance, a well-known man in Salt Lake City, who has several -wives and married daughters, married a young girl of fifteen years of age -whom his wife had adopted and brought up as her own. - -Quite a number of the leading Mormons have wives in the various -settlements; and this is very convenient to them if they have to travel -much. If the wives are old and experienced, as wives who are sent into -the country generally are, they can then look after and manage a farm; -and if they have growing boys, the farm can be worked upon a very -economical plan. The younger wives in the city can be supplied from them -with all the butter, cheese, vegetables, &c., that they require. It takes -considerable shrewdness to manage women in such a way as to turn all -their abilities to good account and to make them profitable. - -Let me ask the good brethren who read this to act for once impartially, -and try to put themselves in a woman’s place; and let me for their -benefit draw a little picture for them to contemplate. - -It is evening, and the family are all assembled in their pleasant home—a -home made happy by the kind and thoughtful care of a loving father. Peace -and tranquillity dwell in every heart, and the father is happy in being -surrounded by his children, to whom he is fondly attached. He listens -to the prattle of the little ones, or the music and songs of the elder -children; and for a time he is forgetful of everything save the happiness -of the hour. - -Suddenly his wife, the mother of his children, whom he dearly loves, -rises from her seat beside the fire and retires to her own apartment. -There she arranges her toilet with irreproachable care, sees that every -straying curl is in its place, and gives every touch to her appearance -which she thinks is likely to render her attractive in the eyes of a -man. She now descends the stairs, ready to leave the home of this, her -first husband, for she is going to see her second husband, or some young -man to whom she has taken a fancy, and who she thinks would be suitable -for a third. She kisses her children good-bye, and is about to take an -affectionate farewell of their father, when she suddenly discovers that -he is not looking happy. “What is the matter now?” she says; “is not your -home a pleasant one? have I not taken pains to train your children in a -proper manner, and have I not remained an hour longer than usual with -you? What folly it is for you to be moping in this way! this is not the -way to live our religion, if we expect to get the blessing of God. You -know very well it is very painful for me to leave you and my children; -but we must be obedient to the commands of God, and I owe attentions to -my other husband as well as to you!” - -Can any man be supposed who would for a moment endure such an outrage -upon decency and common sense, such a violation of all that is sacred in -the human heart? And yet this is only reversing the case; and just as any -Mormon man can suppose he would feel, if the wife he loved were to act -in the way I have described, so do Mormon wives feel, only as much more -acutely, as women are more sensitive in their affections than men. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII. - -LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF POLYGAMY—MARRIAGE AND BAPTISM FOR THE DEAD. - - -My life was now one continued series of deceptions, as was also that of -my husband, and we began habitually to wear the mask when in each other’s -presence. - -It may have been wrong, perhaps, but I confess that for my husband’s -intended bride I felt such a detestation that I could not endure her -presence, although I knew that she was not to blame. I believed that I -should not have felt it so much if she had been a little older; but to -have a mere child placed on a level with me, and to be compelled to treat -her with all the respect due to a wife, was so terribly humiliating to me -that at times I thought that I could not endure it another day. She, of -course, expected to be treated with all the consideration which is proper -to a wife, and to be consulted in everything by my husband, as a wife -should be. She was not, however, competent to undertake any household -duties or wifely cares, and was herself an additional responsibility to -me. Young and inexperienced as she was, she had everything to learn; but, -at the same time, she stood so much upon her dignity that it was anything -but a pleasant task to teach her. It of course devolved upon me to -instruct her in everything, and I found it anything but a congenial task. -I soon began to look upon her simply as a boarder, and expected nothing -more from her than I should if she had really been such. - -She took very kindly to this position, and would spend her days in her -own room, reading and otherwise amusing herself, and of course was always -pleasant and well-dressed to receive her husband. But this did not suit -_me_. In fact I do not know what would have suited me at that time, for -I was disposed to be displeased with everything. And yet a visitor to -our house would, I have no doubt, have, said, “How very pleasantly those -two wives get along together!” This has been said of scores of women in -Utah by casual observers—Gentiles, who thought they “understood” the -system. How little do they know the aching void and the bitter hatred -which exists in the hearts of those wives—the detestation which they have -of one another! How little can they know, when everything is so carefully -hidden, even from their husbands! It is a shameful thing that women, -faithful wives and mothers, should be placed in such a position. - -How many times during the day have I been compelled to leave everything -and rush to my chamber, and there on my bended knees supplicate for -strength to endure, thinking all the time that, in ordaining this -Revelation, God had given us a burden greater than we could bear! - -Then in the evening, when we were assembled together in our cosy parlour, -as we were wont to be, all traces that remained of the terrible struggle -which I had endured were a sad countenance and perhaps the deepening -lines upon my brow, which contrasted unpleasantly with the bright and -cheerful face of the young wife, and made my husband feel that I was -getting very sour in my disposition, as indeed was probably the case. - -Things and actions, which at another time I should have considered -too trifling to notice, had now a painful significance to me. On one -occasion, not long after the wedding, my husband asked me to take a walk -with him, and I consented. Among the Mormons it is a custom to take -their wives out together very frequently. Their object, I presume, is -to display the “jewels” in their crowns before the eyes of their less -fortunate brethren. I had resolved that I would never submit to this; -if my husband would not take me out alone, I would stay at home. On the -occasion I mention, when I came out of my room ready dressed, I found -him and his wife, Belinda, waiting and chatting pleasantly together, -and looking unutterable love at each other—at least, so I thought—and I -felt greatly insulted and annoyed, and told them I did not wish to go. -I carefully avoided showing any outbursts of temper before the young -lady, which I thought would be undignified, for I desired at least that -she should respect me, though I did not want her love. If I had expected -that they would urge me to accompany them, I should have been greatly -mistaken, for my refusal appeared to be just what they wanted. They -tripped off together as light-hearted and happy as children, while I -remained rooted to the spot, tearing my pocket-handkerchief to pieces, -and wishing I could do the same with them. - -I used sometimes to wonder whether it would be the same in the Mormon -heaven, where this Celestial Order of Marriage is expected to be carried -out in all its fullness, and I felt troubled for myself. These dreadful -feelings would, I believed, be the ruin of my soul, and I thought it -was impossible for me to obtain salvation until I had entirely subdued -them—and that I had not power yet to do. I had, however, so concealed -what I felt, that my husband believed that I was becoming used to this -new life. - -Day after day my rebellious soul was agitated by the same troubled -feelings. There was no rest for me—nothing upon which I could stay my -mind. My husband was painfully aware that there was a coldness and -restraint existing between his young wife and myself, and I know that he -was grieved by it, for he had tried in every way to create a friendly -feeling between us. I felt, however, that it was utterly impossible that -I could ever be affectionate towards his other wife, much as I might -strive. I would do my duty, but I could not love her, or, in fact, him -either for that matter, when he was associated with her. I regret to be -obliged to confess such a truth; but from that time, and as long as I -remained in Mormonism, the sentiment that was uppermost in my mind was -an utter detestation of the whole system. I despised myself for being -the abject slave that I was. Why could I not have the moral courage to -set everything at defiance—Revelation and all—and free myself from the -bondage that enthralled me? - -I know this day scores of women in Utah who think and feel exactly as I -did then, who suffer wrongs against which their hearts daily and hourly -rebel, but who, like me, dread to cast aside the yoke of the oppressor. - -At that time, in respect to pecuniary matters, we were very comfortably -off. Almost immediately after our arrival in Utah, Mr. Stenhouse had -found employment on the staff of the _Deseret News_. Before long he -obtained the appointment of postmaster for Salt Lake City, and before his -marriage with Miss Pratt he had started the _Telegraph_, the first daily -paper that was ever published in Utah. From the beginning it had been -remarkably successful; for Brigham had counselled the people to sustain -it, knowing very well that he himself would in return be supported by -my husband. Brigham had no more devoted follower than Mr. Stenhouse was -then, for the scales had not yet fallen from his eyes, and he believed -the Prophet was really what he claimed to be—a faithful servant of God. -True, we had frequently talked together of his very mean actions; but -my too generous, or perhaps too credulous, husband had attributed all -that to the weakness of his human nature, and would not believe that -it affected his priesthood. He therefore sustained him strongly and -consistently before the public; not for gain, for he had given too many -instances of his devotion to be suspected of that; but I may say from -pure attachment, for I know too well that at that time he was almost -ready to lay down his life for the sake of his religion. - -The _Telegraph_ soon became the leading journal in Utah, and in a little -while we were surrounded by every comfort and luxury which at that time -could be procured in Salt Lake City. No family in the Territory was -better provided for than was ours, not excepting Brigham Young’s. I had -always believed that if my husband were left alone, untrammelled by the -Church, to make his own way, he would do so successfully. In this I was -not mistaken. We now owned a fine dwelling-house, a valuable city lot and -house, where the paper was printed, and also another very desirable lot, -near to Brigham Young’s residence. This last lot was my own; it was very -beautifully situated, and we expended on it upwards of three thousand -dollars. Everything that my husband undertook at that time seemed to -prosper—not excepting his love affairs. - -Just then a great deal was whispered privately about certain murders -which had been committed, all knowledge of which was strenuously denied -by the authorities. When any case was so notorious that it could not -possibly be altogether hushed up, we were told that the murdered persons -were dangerous people, and had been killed in self-defence by those whom -they in the first instance had attacked. - -My husband, like hundreds of others, was never in the confidence of the -Church authorities in these matters. He believed firmly in the divine -mission of Joseph Smith, and shut his eyes to the actions of Brigham -Young, thinking that he alone would be responsible to the Lord for his -misdeeds. When I drew his attention to the inconsistency of Brigham’s -conduct, as on more than one occasion I did, he said we had enough to -do to look at home and see that we ourselves did what was right. This, -of course, was true; but I thought, nevertheless, that a little more -consistency on Brigham’s part would not be amiss. - -My talkative friend called one day to speak of a very serious subject. - -“I have come, Sister Stenhouse,” she said, “to talk to you about a matter -of great importance, but I don’t want to offend you, and you must -promise beforehand to forgive me.” - -I readily promised, and she added: “I thought I should find you very -unhappy, Sister Stenhouse, about poor dear Carrie Grant, and I think if -you are so you deserve it, but I don’t like you to be miserable, and so I -came to comfort you.” - -“But, Sister Ann,” I said, “I don’t want to be comforted in the way you -seem to mean. I have been very sad indeed at losing Carrie; but you know -I did everything I could for her, poor girl, and I have nothing to blame -myself for.” - -“Nothing to blame yourself for?” she exclaimed. “Why, Sister Stenhouse, -you have everything to blame yourself for. If poor Carrie has less glory, -it is all your fault.” - -“How so?” I said. - -“Why,” she answered, “if you had not held back and expressed your -dislike, Carrie would have married your husband, and would most likely -have been alive now. She would have had _her_ family, and would have -added to your husband’s glory; while now, although she is your husband’s -wife, she has no children, and, of course, must have less glory in the -Kingdom.” - -“Well, Sister Ann,” I said, “I never thought of it in that light. I -loved Carrie very much, and I tried to make her love me. It was not -until almost the last that I knew of her love for my husband; but if I -had known before, I am sure my own heart would have rebelled against my -husband taking another wife. I did, however, ask him to marry her, and -after she was dead I was married to him for her.” - -“That’s all very well, Sister Stenhouse,” she replied, “but for all that -I think you have committed a great wrong against that poor orphan girl. -You ought to be thankful that at last you were able to repair a little -of the mischief which you did. I don’t want to vex you, but I am really -sorry that you had such an antipathy to your husband having Carrie. -However, I suppose, now he has really got another wife, you are not so -much set against Polygamy. You must find it quite a blessing to have Miss -Pratt—I beg pardon, I mean Mrs. Stenhouse number two—with you now.” - -I did not answer her, for I had my own opinion about the matter. She went -on without hesitation: “Well, you must not be vexed with me, dear; I say -it all for your good, you know; but I do wish you felt a little more as I -do about these matters. Why, do you know, I have been trying to show my -faith and zeal in every possible way ever since we came to Utah. It was -only last week I was baptized for Queen Anne.” - -“Queen Anne!” I exclaimed. “What can you possibly mean?” - -“Exactly what I say, Sister Stenhouse; I was baptized for Queen Anne, and -if you like I’ll tell you all about it. It is only just what every one -else has been doing, only they were baptized for other people. I don’t -think you’ve ever thought much of this, and so I’ll explain myself. You -see, Sister Stenhouse, the Elders teach us that the whole world is lying -in darkness and sin, and has been so ever since the apostolic gifts were -lost ages ago. Now there is no salvation outside the Church, and you may -remember that Christ Himself went and preached to the miserable souls in -Paradise.” - -“In Paradise?” I said, “why I thought that was a happy place.” - -“Oh, no, Sister Stenhouse,” she said, “not very happy. The souls of those -who have not heard the gospel, and have not been baptized, go there, and -it’s a sort of prison for them until they are brought out again through -the kindness of some believer. The thief on the cross went there, and -Christ went there and preached to the spirits in prison; and when the -Elders die, they go on mission to Paradise and preach to them also. All -your people and my people, our fathers, and mothers, and grandfathers, -and so on, right up to the apostolic times, are waiting in Paradise with -millions and millions of souls to be released and be admitted into the -Celestial Kingdom. All the good brethren and sisters have been doing -their best to get out their relations and friends, and I know many of -them who have sent over to England and have spent large sums of money in -tracing their pedigrees and genealogies, in order to find out the right -names and to be baptized as proxies for the dead who owned those names. -I have been baptized for a good many of my own relations, and I mean to -be baptized for scores more; and many of the brethren, too, have been -married as proxies for their own friends, and for distinguished people -besides, so that they might be admitted into the Celestial Kingdom, and -raise up patriarchal families of their own. The poor souls, if they were -released from Paradise by a proxy baptism, could not, of course, have -been married in heaven, as there is no giving in marriage there; so some -one was married for them as proxy to some one else, and now they can -begin to establish their own celestial kingdoms.” - -“And have you been proxy in this way, Sister Ann?” I asked. - -“No, and yes,” she replied; “I haven’t yet been proxy in marriage for -any one, but I was proxy in baptism. When we were children, I remember we -used to have some rhymes about Queen Anne, and, as it was my own name, -I always thought a great deal of her. It seemed to me that it would be -very nice, and at the same time very charitable, if I were to help her -out of Paradise. It quite struck my fancy, for it was no small thing to -have a real queen thankful to you for so much. So I went and was baptized -for her, and now she is out of Paradise and has entered the Celestial -Kingdom. But that isn’t all. There was my old friend, George Wilford, -who heard all about the matter, for I see him frequently, and he at once -said that he would be baptized for Prince George of Denmark, Queen Anne’s -husband, and he means to do so; and after that we’ll be married by proxy -for them here on earth, and then they’ll both be happy.” - -“Why, Sister Ann, what a droll idea!” I said. - -“Sister Stenhouse,” she replied, quite seriously, “it’s very wrong of you -to talk so. Some of the best Saints have stood proxy in this way. There -was one lady who stood proxy for the Empress Josephine, and her son stood -for Napoleon, and some one else for Washington. Queen Elizabeth, too, has -been baptized by proxy. And now Napoleon and Washington are both Mormon -Elders, and I suppose some one will be married for Queen Elizabeth, and -she’ll enter into Polygamy. Do you know, Sister Stenhouse, there was one -brother who, out of pure kindness, said he would be baptized for the -thief on the cross, for he supposed that no one else would take pity on -him, and a sister who was present said she would be baptized for his -wife, if Brother Brigham thought he ever had one. I’ve been persuading my -Henry to be baptized for Henry the Eighth, for I’m sure he needed baptism -for the remission of sins; and he—I mean _my_ Henry—has promised me to do -so; but he says that he means to ask Brother Brigham first before he is -married for him—if ever he is—as King Henry was almost a polygamist in -his way, and my husband thinks there is not much need to be married for -him at all.” - -“I can’t help being amused,” I said. “Of course I have often heard of -being baptized for the dead, and I know the Elders say that St. Paul -spoke of it in one of his epistles, but I never thought of it in _that_ -light; I always thought we should have to wait till the Temple was -finished.” - -“That’s true, Sister Stenhouse,” she replied; “all the marriages of all -the Saints—of every one, in fact, on the face of the earth—ought to be -solemnized in the Temple here in Salt Lake City, and every one ought to -receive their Endowments in it; but as it is not yet finished, the Lord -permits us to be married, and everything else, in the Endowment House. -But you know yourself that there’s a record kept, and that, when the -Temple is finished, the ceremony will be all gone through with again. -I’ve heard it said that many of the Elders and their wives will live -there, and that day and night perpetually the ceremonies will be going -on. You ought to be baptized, however, _now_ for as many relations as you -can think of.” - -“I think I shall wait, Sister Ann,” I said, “until I can find a Queen -Fanny, and then I’ll be baptized for her.” - -She did not like me saying this, for she evidently thought I was jesting. -I was not jesting, however, but I felt greatly amused, for this peculiar -doctrine of the Saints had never struck me in such an odd light before. -Sister Ann was shocked at the way in which I viewed her strange stories, -but “I’ll come again in the course of a day or two, Sister Stenhouse,” -she said, “and put you all straight.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV. - -MY DAUGHTER BECOMES THE FOURTH WIFE OF BRIGHAM YOUNG’S SON—THE SECOND -ENDOWMENTS. - - -After I had consented, and in reality had given my husband a second wife, -my _status_ in Mormon polygamic society was very considerably improved. -First wives who lived in, and firmly believed, this “Order of Celestial -Marriage,” tried in every way to make me feel that I was one with them; -and those who had not much faith felt more kindly towards me, because I -had been caught in the same snare with themselves. - -Every polygamic wife, whether first, second, third, or tenth, no matter -how much or how little she may believe in “Celestial Marriage”—no matter -how refined or how coarse and degraded her nature may chance to be—must -feel that her position is inferior to that of a monogamic wife. On this -account, many of the Mormon women are never satisfied until they have -drawn every woman of their acquaintance down to their own level. The -influence of this supposed “Revelation” is by no means elevating or -refining. - -I was now upon an equal footing with other first wives. They had, -therefore, no hesitation in confiding to me their griefs; and, situated -as I was, I had abundant opportunities of hearing stories of cruelty, -wrong, and suffering, under the “Celestial” system—many of them so -utterly revolting that I would not dream of relating them again. Polygamy -among the Mormons is so full of disgusting and disgraceful details, that -a modest woman would not dare to relate all she knew. In this book I have -endeavoured to be true to my title and to “_tell all_,” as far as such a -thing is possible. But there are thousands of horrible incidents, which -form part and parcel of the system of Polygamy, but which no woman who -had any respect for herself would think of putting upon paper. - -Previous to the time when my husband took his second wife, although I -had learned too much, I had to a certain extent been kept in the dark -respecting some of the vile and loathsome practices of Polygamy; but -after that, by slow degrees, I was thoroughly initiated into the system. - -Visitors to Utah would perhaps notice in the faces of the Mormon wives -a dull, careworn, weary expression, altogether the reverse of that -contented look which is seen among “Gentile” women. But those very women -would never disclose to the stranger the depth of that sorrow which is -wearing away their lives. Some few, indeed, have been led to speak of -their troubles; but they have afterwards found that the very persons in -whom they confided most distorted and exaggerated every word that they -had uttered, for the sake of making a good story for the press. In many -cases the names of those who were thoughtless enough to expose their -sorrows, together with little personal matters which should never have -been made public, were put into print; and when the matter came before -the Church authorities, as in course of time it was certain to do, there -was a great deal of trouble and unpleasantness. Women, consequently, -as a rule, tell nothing; and book-makers and people connected with the -press, while they give to the world astonishing stories of what they -have heard, know really nothing of the truth. When a smart man, or a man -connected with the press, comes to Utah, the Church authorities take -him in hand at once. He is carried here and there, and treated with the -utmost deference; a pair of Mormon spectacles is placed by Brigham, or -one of his numerous factotums, upon the visitor’s eyes, and through them -he looks at all that transpires. Then comes a glowing account in the -papers, or else apocryphal stories appear in the visitor’s last new book; -and unsophisticated people, who innocently suppose that all that is in -print must be true, begin to think that the stories of the evil-doing -of the Prophet, which from time to time have crept out, were only -scandalous reports, and that Brigham Young—like somebody else who shall -be nameless!—was, after all, not quite so black as he has been painted. - -A gentleman, who had for five years resided in Salt Lake City, said to -me a few months ago: “Mrs. Stenhouse, when I had been here about three -weeks, I thought that I knew enough of Mormonism to write a book; when I -had been here three months, I began to think that I did not know quite -as much; and now, after five years, I have come to the conclusion that I -really know nothing at all. I have lived in a Mormon family for the past -year, but that has not increased my knowledge. They are constantly upon -their guard. They treat me kindly, but they never let me know anything.” - -This, I believe, has been the experience of nearly all the Gentiles -resident in Salt Lake City. Gentlemen had no chance of learning anything, -and the opportunities of ladies were only a trifle better. - -Up to this time I had said very little to my children about my doubts and -fears. With the exception of my daughter Clara, they were all too young. -Clara was just budding into womanhood, and day by day gave promise of -more beauty and interest in her future life. I dreaded to cast a cloud -across her way by telling her of my own apprehensions in respect to -Polygamy. If that were the “Order” of “Heaven,” she would certainly have -to live in it; and in any case it was the “order” of Brigham Young, and -my child could not escape from it. - -We had lived together in Polygamy about a year, when my husband told -me that his young wife desired to have a home of her own, and that he -intended to provide her with one. This was very pleasant intelligence to -me; for the sight of that other wife constantly before my eyes, sitting -at my table, in the midst of my family, walking in the garden with my -husband in the evening, or _tête-á-tête_ with him in the parlour, was -more than I could bear. I began to feel, whether justly or not, that my -presence was a restraint to them, and that they felt annoyed when I was -with them. This feeling was so strong with me that I constantly avoided -them, and I finally concluded to spend the evenings in my own room with -my children, for, being out of their presence, I should perhaps be at -peace. - -This, however, was all changed when my husband established a second home. -I did not mind being deprived of his society so long as I could get rid -of _her_: her presence was painful to me, and when she was near me I -hardly felt able to breathe. - -Just at that time the marriage of my daughter Clara first began to be -talked about seriously. One day my husband being out driving with Joseph -A. Young, the eldest son of the Prophet, the subject was discussed -between them, and Joseph A. made a proposition of marriage. This, to me, -was the cause of considerable uneasiness, as Joseph A. was a Polygamist, -and at first I altogether refused to listen to the suggestion. At that -time Clara was not fifteen years of age, and not only did I consider her -altogether too young to think of marriage, but I was shocked at the bare -idea of her becoming a polygamic wife. I almost hated Joseph for asking -for her. - -Personally I had no objection to Clara’s lover. I had known him for -several years. He was an intelligent, generous-hearted, and handsome -man, of very good standing among the Saints, and wealthy. As a friend, I -valued and esteemed him; but that he, a polygamist, should wish to marry -my darling daughter, was very repugnant to my feelings. Clara was then -growing old enough to understand my more serious thoughts and sentiments, -and her companionship was very precious to me. The thought of her -marrying into Polygamy was to my mind almost as painful as the thought of -her death would have been. - -My husband agreed with me that she was too young to marry; but on that -point _he_ could not offer any great objection, as his own wife, although -very womanly in appearance, was but very little older in years. I told -Joseph A. of my reluctance to the proposed marriage, and he fully entered -into my feelings. I could not absolutely refuse him, but I wished to gain -time. Every day found me more and more weak in the faith, and I thought -that, if I could only postpone my Clara’s marriage for a few years, -something might transpire which would relieve me of my difficulty. - -Joseph promised to wait just as long as we thought proper, if only we -would allow him to speak to Clara and explain to her the sentiments with -which he regarded her. In this he acted in a way very unlike the Mormon -men generally, and I respected him accordingly. I promised him that I -would not influence my daughter, but would let her decide for herself. -This, after much careful consideration, I came to the conclusion was -all that I could do. My mind at that time was in a very troubled state. -Day by day my doubts respecting the plural wife system became stronger -and stronger, and I felt that before very long some great change _must_ -take place, both in my fate and in my life. At the same time, outward -circumstances gave no promise of any such change. My husband gave no -signs of apostasy, and, as a Saint, I knew he would never think of -undertaking anything without the permission of Brother Brigham. We did -not even dare to leave the city without consulting the Prophet. In times, -then very recent, it was at the risk, and sometimes, indeed, at the -sacrifice of life, that any one left Salt Lake Valley without permission; -and even at the present moment no good Saint who values his standing -in the Church would dream of going East without first obtaining the -approval of Brigham Young. I could not, therefore, at the time of which I -write, foresee the great changes which have since taken place. To refuse -my daughter to the Prophet’s son would, I knew, be utterly useless. -By partial submission I might gain some advantages; and the longer I -postponed the marriage, the greater chance there was that “something” -might turn up, which we all more or less look for when we are placed in -circumstances which admit of the exercise of very little choice or effort. - -My only objection against Joseph A. was, as I just stated, that he was a -polygamist; but so long as we remained in the Church I could not openly -allege this in opposition to the proposed marriage. If my Clara married -a single man, there was every chance, if not an absolute certainty, that -after a while he would take another wife, or wives. This had been the -case with other girls with whom my child was acquainted. They had married -single men, trusting that their influence over them would be sufficient -to retain their affections ever to themselves alone; but they had soon -reason to see how groundless their expectations and hopes had been. -If, on the other hand, I gave my daughter to a polygamist, there was -certainly no reason why Joseph A. should be refused. I felt surrounded on -every side by difficulties, and out of them all I endeavoured to choose -the least. - -One day my husband told me that Brigham Young had seriously spoken to him -about the matter, and had “counselled” him to let the marriage take place -at once, saying that my Clara was quite old enough. After this, objection -on my part would have been utterly unavailing. Everything was settled -at the _fiat_ of Brigham; and the feelings and judgment of a father and -mother in respect of their own daughter were, of course, of not the -slightest consequence. - -The wedding-day was therefore fixed, when the sweet flower of my own -quiet garden was to be transplanted to another home. - -We went to the Endowment House—my husband, myself, and our daughter, -together with some friends of the family. There we met with Joseph A. -Young, the expectant bridegroom; his father, Brigham Young; Joseph A.’s -first wife, Mary Young; and several of the brethren. The bride and -bridegroom, and the bridegroom’s first wife, were all dressed in their -Temple robes. We then entered a small room where the altar, of which I -have already spoken, is placed. At the end of the altar, Brigham was -seated in a large armchair covered with crimson velvet. The altar was -also crimson. Brigham officiated. Joseph A.’s first wife, Mary Young, -knelt in front of the long crimson altar; and my daughter Clara knelt -beside her on a sort of faldstool or ledge, arranged for that purpose. -Behind the altar knelt Joseph A. Brigham said: “Joseph, are you willing -to take Clara Stenhouse to be your lawful and wedded wife for time and -for all eternity?” Joseph answered, “Yes.” Then Joseph’s first wife was -told to place the right hand of my daughter in the right hand of her -husband, in token that she was willing; and then Clara was questioned, -as Joseph had been. When she replied in the affirmative, Brigham said, -“I pronounce you man and wife in the name of the Lord. Amen.” They were -now married; and Brigham Young, Joseph A.’s first wife, and a few other -friends, came home to the wedding breakfast, after which my daughter went -to her own pleasant home. - -Thus my worst fears were realized. My own daughter had become a polygamic -wife; she was the fourth wife of her husband, Joseph A. Young. - -It is a source of sorrow to any mother who really loves her children to -lose them, even if it be for their own good and happiness; but in my own -case there were reasons why I felt the loss of my daughter more than I -should have done under ordinary circumstances. I felt quite desolate -without her; for when left all alone, when my husband took his second -wife, and when I had no one else to turn to, my little daughter had -entwined herself about my heart in a thousand sweet and loving ways. She -knew how great an influence music had over me, and how much I loved to -hear her play and sing; and when she saw how sad my heart was, or caught -me in tears, she would go to her piano, and lure me to her side by some -sweet song which she knew was dear to my memory. But with her went all -that love and gentleness which in my time of deepest trouble sustained me -and kept me from absolute despair. - -I have often wondered whether Joseph ever realized how great, how -dear a gift, I bestowed upon him when I gave him my little Clara. But -in saying this I do not mean to cast the shadow of a doubt upon his -true-heartedness and love towards her. He was always kind and thoughtful, -considering her comfort in everything; and although they have now been -married seven years, he has never changed, but is the same to her as on -the first day of their marriage. A good, kind, and gentle husband he has -ever been, anticipating her every wish, tenderly and carefully guarding -her from even a painful thought. My only regret has been that he is a -polygamist, and she a polygamic wife. - -Not long after this, my husband one day told me that a select few had -been chosen to receive their Second Endowments, and that we were to be -honoured with the same privilege. This I was told was one of the highest -honours that could be conferred upon us, as the Second Endowments had -never been given to any one since the Mormons left Nauvoo. - -The glory of this privilege I did not myself, however, feel; and, -notwithstanding any respect which might be intended by our names being -added to the list of chosen ones, I refused to see the slightest good in -the whole affair. I am afraid I was naturally perverse—or was it that the -light was now beginning to dawn more clearly upon my mind? I know not. -But I raised every possible objection, feeling, though I did, that all -opposition on my part was useless. I knew that I should have to go, but I -felt a dismal satisfaction in letting every one know how much I hated the -system. - -“Our” second wife—I say “_our_,” because I had been taught that my -husband and myself were indissolubly one, even in the matter of taking -wives—“our” second wife seemed the happiest of us all when the day -arrived, and I believe she considered that we were very highly favoured. -After preparing our Temple robes, we started for the Endowment House. -The reluctance which I felt caused me to lag behind, and I was _gently_ -reminded several times that I was making myself very disagreeable. I -did not, however, feel much remorse, for my husband had still one good, -obedient wife walking at his side, who I knew would sympathize with him; -and that, as every one is aware, is more than falls to the lot of every -man. - -When we reached the Endowment House, we ladies were shown into one room -and _our_ husband into another. We then proceeded to array ourselves -in our robes, caps, and aprons—the same as when we received our first -Endowments—and when all was ready we were ushered into another room by -one of the brethren, who was also dressed in his Temple robes. There we -met _our_ husband and several other brethren, all dressed in the same -way. We sat down, and oil was then poured upon the head of _our_ husband -by two of the brethren—Daniel H. Wells and another—and he was then -ordained a King and Priest to all eternity. After that, we two wives were -anointed in like manner, and ordained Queens and Priestesses, to reign -and rule with _our_ husband over his kingdom in the celestial world. - -Had I ever solaced myself with the notion, which some Mormon women -entertain, that first wives are queens over all the rest, I should have -been sadly disappointed when I heard “_our_” second wife ordained to the -same high office as myself. As it was, however, my faith was so small -that I should have been quite contented had they consecrated her alone -queen for Eternity, so long as they would have allowed me to rule and -reign by myself in my own home for Time. - -The ceremony did not last long; but it all appeared to me such folly that -I was anxious to leave the place, and, though I dared not say so, I was -truly ashamed to be seen coming out of the House. While going through -these Endowments I was filled with a thorough contempt for everybody and -everything around me, and I suppose that my feelings were visible upon my -countenance; for, after leaving the House, I remember the Apostle John -Taylor asking me if I did not feel well, and I told him as plainly as I -dared what really was the matter. He spoke to me very kindly, and tried -to reassure me; but the scales were now falling from my eyes, and all his -arguments availed nothing. - -Notwithstanding all this, I was not ready yet to cast off the yoke, and -a few months after our Second Endowments I again gave evidence of my -faith. An event occurred in the other branch of my husband’s family which -produced a strong impression upon my mind—a little daughter was presented -to him by his second wife. I was, of course, expected to go and visit the -young mother and child, and I thought I could never bring my mind to do -that. - -It would be impossible for me to define my feelings at that time—loathing -and hatred for him and for her, and even for the poor innocent babe, -on the one side; and, on the other, thoughts of what I considered was -my duty towards God, my husband, and his other lawful wife. I was -bewildered. My heart said, Do not go; but my conscience said, It is your -duty to treat her kindly, for she believes she has done you no wrong. -Then I thought, She is a young mother, and, without you frowning upon -her, sorrow will come swiftly enough to her door. - -I saw that my husband was troubled as to what my feelings might be, -although he had not had courage to tell me himself of the interesting -event. He was afraid of paining me, and sent a lady friend with the -intelligence. I spoke to him myself, and told him that I would go and -see Belinda and her child. He thanked me, and said, “God bless you for -that.” Then I went to see her; but I was thankful when the visit was -over; and although I went again many times, and tried my very best to -treat her kindly and even affectionately, I could never get over the -painful feelings which agitated my mind when in her presence. - -[Illustration: ORSON PRATT, The Mormon Philosopher. - -_Born in 1811._] - - - - -CHAPTER XXXV. - -REALITIES OF POLYGAMIC LIFE—ORSON PRATT: THE STORY OF HIS YOUNG ENGLISH -WIFE. - - -The position of the plural wives—second, third, fourth, or twentieth, it -matters not—is but a mockery, after all; and in many respects they are -more to be pitied than the first wives. The first wives have known, if -only for a little while, a husband’s love and care; but that has never -been felt by the second wives. They are, in fact, in many respects little -better than slaves; and if they are sensitive girls, their position -must be extremely painful, for they must realize at all times that they -are receiving the attentions of another woman’s husband; and in many -instances they are even afraid to be seen speaking to their husband for -fear of bringing down the wrath of the first wife upon their heads. -Others, who are not so sensitive, assert their own rights and are defiant. - -I am well acquainted with a pretty young Welsh girl who was a second -wife. Her husband had converted her to Mormonism while he was on a -mission to Europe, and when they reached Salt Lake he married her. I saw -her first two years after her marriage, when one day she came to me in -the greatest distress. She asked me if I would give her some employment, -and, greatly surprised at the request, I asked her how she came to need -anything to do, as I knew her husband could well afford to support her. - -“I have left my husband,” she answered, “for I could stand no longer the -ill-treatment that I received. I endured it until, as you see, my health -is failing and I am broken-hearted. The creature I married has no manhood -in him. He has allowed me to be treated like a slave, and has himself -half-starved me, and has acted towards me with the greatest inhumanity. -When I married him,” she said, “I was willing to make myself useful in -the family, and I did so. But one thing after another was given me to do, -until I became a regular drudge; they would not have dared to treat a -hired girl in the way they treated me. I was put into a miserable little -back room, and was never allowed to see any of my friends; I had to work -early and late. When at last my position would not admit of my working -quite so much, they punished me with all sorts of petty unkindnesses, and -nearly starved me, giving me only a little flour or a few potatoes every -day. - -“At last,” she continued, “I went to Brother Brigham to know what I -should do. He sent for my husband and talked to him a long time, and -he promised to do better if I would go back with him. Brother Brigham -counselled me to do so, and try him again; and I went. Soon after that, -my babe was born, and then they treated me with worse unkindness.” - -“Who do you mean by _they_?” I asked. - -“I mean my husband and his wife,” she replied. “They did not seem to -look upon me as a wife at all, and even in the coldest mornings, and -immediately after my child was born, they used to make me get up first -and light fires and prepare breakfast and begin work generally, and I -was only too glad if I escaped with a little fault-finding. I stood it -as long as I could, because Brother Brigham had counselled me to do so; -but now I have left them again, and do not mean to return.” This was the -story of one poor girl’s troubles. - -Now the man, Elder Jos. Bull, who did this is a good Mormon, in good -standing in the Church to-day. He is employed by the authorities, and his -poor young wife is now working for the Gentiles—a much happier woman, if -her face speaks truly, since her separation, although she has to support -herself and child. She, like hundreds of other young girls, came to Utah -without friend or relative, and this is how a good brother “took care” of -her. - -But I must be permitted to relate a still more painful story—the story of -a poor innocent girl allured from her happy home in England by one of the -most distinguished of the Mormon Apostles; brought over by him to Utah as -his wife, and there suffered to die in misery and neglect. - -The Apostle Orson Pratt, who is called among the Saints “The Champion of -Polygamy”—a man who has devoted his life to Mormonism, and whose writings -have done more than the labours of all the other Apostles to win converts -to Polygamy; a man who on more than one occasion has boldly stood up -against many of the absurdities and blasphemies of Brigham Young; a man -upon whom, on account of his independence, Brigham has frowned, and who -has consequently never attained to the wealth of his more obsequious -brethren; a man who in all the ordinary affairs of life would command the -respect of every one around him. This was the man who perpetrated the -atrocious villainy which I am about to relate; and much against my own -personal inclinations I feel compelled to tell the story, as it shows how -shockingly this debasing system can pervert an otherwise upright mind. - -Orson Pratt married the young girl of whom I speak in Liverpool, by -special dispensation from Brigham Young; and her parents—themselves -devout Mormons—thought that their daughter was highly honoured in -becoming the wife of an Apostle. She was very pretty and attractive, -and for a time he paid great attention to her, and brought her over to -Utah as his bride. Arrived there, he utterly neglected her, and she -experienced all the horrors of polygamic life. - -The Apostle was living in Salt Lake City. He had left his young wife -and her children in Tooele—a place about forty miles distant. There -they lived in a wretched little log-cabin, the young mother supporting -her little ones as best she could. When her last child was born, she -was suffering all the miseries of poverty, dependent entirely upon the -charity of her neighbours. At the time when most she needed the gentle -sympathy of her husband’s love, that husband never came to see her. - -One morning there was literally nothing in the house for herself and her -children, who, knowing nothing of their mother’s sufferings, cried to her -for bread. - -The poor mother quieted them with a promise that they should soon have -something to eat, and then she went and begged a few potatoes from a -neighbour; and upon these they subsisted for three days. She then took -her children with her, for they were too young to be left alone—her babe -was only three weeks old—and she went round to see if she could get work -of any kind to do. In this she was not successful; and at length, worn -out by continual anxiety and privation, and heart-broken by the neglect -which she had experienced, she sank beneath a fever which promised very -soon to prove fatal. - -For some time the neighbours nursed her; but they, of course, had their -own families to attend to, and could not give her quite all their time, -and thus occasionally she was left alone. One evening, when such was the -case, she got up in a state of delirium, and barefooted, and almost -destitute of clothing, took her children, and wandered forth with them -into the snow. The good people of Tooele went out over the prairie, -anxious to find and bring back the poor maniac, but for a long time their -search was in vain. At last, not knowing whither she went, she wandered -to the house of Brother Eli B. Kelsey—a “vile apostate” as Brigham Young -would call him; but known to every one else, Saint, Apostate, or Gentile, -as one of the best and kindest-hearted men that ever lived. In Brother -Kelsey’s house she and her little ones were kindly received by him and -his good wife, and their wants attended to. They were clothed and fed, -and were then carried back to the log-cabin which they called their home. - -Next day the Mormon Bishop of Tooele assembled the people, and money was -collected and sent to Salt Lake City, to Orson Pratt, begging him to come -immediately, if he wished to see his wife alive. But the Apostle did not -come. At that time he was actually engaged in taking another bride, and -he wanted to hear nothing of his dying wife. - -Then the good Bishop sent a young man, who rode all night, to compel him -immediately to take the coach for Tooele—the young man paying his fare, -so that he might have no excuse. Then, at last, he came. - -Arrived at the little town where his poor wife lay dying, Orson conducted -himself like the philosopher he professes to be. Before him stood -the hovel, within which were his deserted little ones—wailing, as if -sensible of the great loss of a mother’s care which they would soon have -to sustain—and there, on her dying bed, was that poor wife and mother, -tossing in wild delirium. But he, the cause of all that woe, passed by -that wretched hovel and its death-scene to the comfortable home of a -well-to-do brother, at whose house he first obtained his supper, and -then, calmly returning, entered the place where his wife was lying, and -for a moment surveyed the scene. Then he quietly remarked to one of the -sisters present: “She has a good deal of fever.” - -Another sister, who stood by, impulsively exclaimed, “Good God! Brother -Pratt, this is more than fever; she is dying.” - -“Oh dear no, sister,” he calmly replied; “she will recover.” - -It was evident, however, to all but Orson that his wife _was_ dying, and -that no earthly power could save her. - -[Illustration: DESPAIR. - -_To face p. 326._] - -The next day she was still raving, and it was told me that in her wild -frenzy she even attempted to strangle her babe. Orson essayed to hold -her, but she caught his gold chain and snapped it in two. His touch and -the sight of the chain recalled her for a moment to her senses, and she -said reproachfully, “You are puffed up with pride, Orson, with your gold -chain and rings, while you leave me and my babes to starve. Poor little -lambs! where are they?” - -For a moment the yearning of a mother’s heart for her children conquered -the fever that tortured her mind, and she listened to her husband’s -attempted words of comfort, as he said, “I am with you now, Eliza, and I -will take care of you.” - -Steadily, for a moment, she looked up into his face, and, with tears in -her eyes, said mournfully: “It is _too late_, Orson—it is _too late_!” - -These were the last sane words which she uttered in this life, although -she still lingered on insensible. - -The next morning the Apostle Pratt resolved to leave for Salt Lake City -and his young bride. The Bishop, however, called a council and summoned -him to remain until his wife was dead. Nevertheless he did not wish to -stay, and, being an Apostle, he overruled the council. At the last moment -before his intended departure, one of the sisters said: “Brother Pratt, -should she die, what shall we do with her?” - -“Oh, she won’t die,” he replied. - -“But should she?” the sister urged. - -“Then bury her with her children,” he answered. - -After much solicitation, he was prevailed upon to remain for a few hours, -and the next morning his wife died. The language of her last moments, as -she raved and tossed in mad delirium, showed how terrible had been her -mental agony, and how much she had suffered from this frightful system. - -But one might easily fill a large volume with stories quite as cruel as -this. It is simply absurd to expect that it should be otherwise. Men -and women can train and discipline their minds, they can crush out the -affections of their hearts if they will; but no effort of man can change -man’s nature entirely, or root out altogether humanity from the soul. -Women may endure, as that poor woman did whose story I have just related, -but they never can get perfectly adapted to the system of “Celestial -Marriage.” The nearer they approach to its requirements, the further they -recede from all that is held good and noble in womanhood; and as for the -men, they are brutalized by every effort which they make to conform to it. - -During the summer, about three years ago, a young-looking woman, very -shabbily dressed, came frequently to my house with heavy baskets of -fruit, which she entreated me to buy. One day she said: “You do not -remember me, Sister Stenhouse, I think, and I do not wonder, for I am so -changed. I have to work very hard now, for all I have to live upon is -what I can make by selling fruit, or any little work that I can get my -neighbours to give me to do; and if my husband could prevent even that, -I believe he would. I am obliged to gather my fruit at night and hide it -from him, and that is why I urged you so to buy, for I never know when I -may meet him.” - -I was very much surprised at this, as her husband, I knew, was getting a -good salary, and appeared to be a most gentlemanly man. His first wife, I -was aware, had left him, it was said, on account of cruelty and neglect, -and he had married this one just after her arrival from England. I had -every reason to believe that she had been a good wife to him, and a -mother to his motherless children; but he had taken another wife since he -married her, and had cruelly neglected this poor woman, leaving her his -first wife’s children to take care of. She said that he was again paying -his addresses to another still, and she expected that he would soon marry -her. And yet this woman [his second wife] told me that all he had left -for her and the children to live on was a sack of bran and about fifty -pounds of corn meal. Everything else had been taken to the third wife, -even to the best articles of furniture. - -She said: “One evening I had been sitting in the porch in my -rocking-chair, when he came in and remained about an hour. As soon as -he left, I went out to bring in the chair, and was just in time to see -him carrying it off. I knew where he was going with it.” I saw this poor -woman frequently, and bought her fruit often when I did not need it, for -it grieved me to see her carrying such heavy loads in her then delicate -situation. After a time I lost sight of her, and then I heard that she -was dead. One day her own daughter—for she was a widow when she married -this man—came to me before leaving the city. “I am going away to some -friends,” she said, “for I will never live near that man; he killed my -mother; he kicked her so severely that she never recovered, and when her -child was born, they both died from the effects of the blows which she -had received—and I hate him.” - -The first wife of “Brig.” Hampton, one of the Mormon authorities, told -me how her husband whipped her because she would not consent to his -stripping their home of everything that was either useful or handsome -in order to furnish a house for his second wife. Finally, he shut her up -while he took her entire parlour furniture away. She was a fragile little -woman, and perfectly helpless when in the power of a strong man, and -therefore was forced to submit, as there was no appeal to law in Utah. - -It is a very difficult thing for a woman, after listening, day after -day, to such tales of woe and misery, and knowing them to be true, to -retain any respect for a polygamist, whoever he may be. For my own part -I regard them all with such feelings of loathing that I can hardly speak -civilly of them, and would prefer never to speak to them. I know scores -of ladies—married ladies—Mormon ladies, who in secret feel and speak just -as I do upon this subject. - -For many years past the American Elders have derived a rich harvest from -Britain and Scandinavia. After the introduction of Polygamy, an Elder -was seldom known to return from Mission without bringing with him one, -two, and sometimes three young girls, or else arranging in some way for -their emigration. The Missionaries, however, preferred, whenever it was -possible, to bring the girls with them; for if they trusted them to the -care of a brother returning before or after, he very frequently turned -traitor, and carried off the prize himself. - -The Elders were not permitted to marry these extra wives while on or -returning from a mission, unless they had special permission from Brigham -Young. But quite a number of the poor weak brethren were so impulsive and -so anxious to be married, that they could not wait for the ceremonies of -the Endowment House. One conscientious Swiss brother, named Loba, who -could find no one willing to take the responsibility of marrying him -while crossing the Plains, said that as he was an Elder he could just as -well marry himself, and be under no obligation to anybody; and he did so. -He had fallen in love with a little miss—a mere child, about one quarter -of his own age. - -Many men have married wives, and have brought them home, before their -first wives knew even that they were in love. They had not had courage to -introduce the subject, but believed that when the wife found that it was -done, and could not be undone, she would see the uselessness of feeling -badly, and would soon get over it. But no wife who has been thus treated -ever did “get over it.” What can a man know of woman’s nature who would -dare to act thus towards her, and think that she would become reconciled -to such treatment? - -What strange ideas the Mormon men must have of woman’s nature if they -believe that women can submit to such treatment as this and still love -them! What folly to think even of love! - -It would be very wrong for me to say that there are _no_ men who try to -be just in the practice of Polygamy, for I know many who try their very -best to act impartially to all their wives; but this is not really the -result of their religion, about which some of these men appear to care -very little. I feel sure that if they are good men, notwithstanding the -evil effects of Mormonism upon them, they would have been much better men -without it. - -On the other hand, I have known men who, before they became Mormons, were -reputed good husbands and fathers, but who afterwards became cold and -harsh in their natures, cruel to their wives, and neglectful to their -children. It seemed as if they thought of nothing else but courting the -girls and taking more wives, altogether regardless as to whether they -could support them or not. - -Some of the Elders, finding that they might not marry plural wives before -they reached Utah, have bound the girls by solemn vows and covenants to -marry them when they arrived in Salt Lake Valley; and the poor girls, -believing that, because these men were Missionaries, all they said and -did _must_ be right, have often—in fact, in almost every instance—to -their own great injury, kept their “covenants” and married the men to -whom they were vowed. I have known personally and intimately several -women who have in this way ruined their prospects and blighted the hopes -of their whole lives, and sadder stories than theirs could not be told. - -My husband had again left Salt Lake City, and had gone to “the States,” -as we then called “going East;” for it was such a long journey that -we felt ourselves altogether out of the pale of civilization. I felt, -therefore, comparatively free; for I could now, whenever I desired to do -so, walk out, or visit a friend, without the constant dread of meeting -him and his wife. It always humiliated me to see them together, although -I believed that it was perfectly right that my husband should show -attentions to his other wife. It was not _now_ jealousy that I felt—the -day of jealous feeling was long past. I felt disgusted, and I was humbled -at the sight of them. At one time, for nearly six months, I remained at -home, never going further than my own garden, simply for the reason that -I feared to meet _her_ in the presence of any of my friends—particularly -any of my Gentile friends; or worse still, with _him_. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI. - -“OUR” HUSBAND’S FIANCÉE—A SECOND WIFE’S SORROWS—STEPS TOWARDS APOSTASY. - - -At one time I had almost begun to think that my husband had seen enough -of the discomforts and heartlessness of polygamic life, and that his eyes -were looking back wishfully to the time when, as the old Scotch ballad -says: - - “One loving heart was all his own, - But there as king he reign’d supreme.” - -My faith in my own acuteness and perception was, however, very -considerably shaken when one day he told me that he thought it was about -time for him to think of taking another wife. I suppose he expected that -I should express some astonishment or offer objections, for he proceeded -to give me excellent reasons for what he was about to do. His greatly -improved circumstances; his desire to sustain his brethren; and, above -all, the necessity that he should “build up a kingdom!” - -There was no gainsaying all this. The Lord had certainly very greatly -blessed him in basket and in store; it was, moreover, praiseworthy in -him to wish to sustain his brethren; and nobody could deny that he ought -to have a “kingdom!” To crown all, the young lady whom he proposed to -honour this time could not possibly be objected to by any loyal Saint, -for she was of the seed royal of the modern Israel—a daughter of the -high-priestly house of Brigham Young! - -I suppose, if I had been a right-minded woman, I should have felt the -great glory that there was in the proposed alliance. But, in point of -fact, such is the perversity of human nature, I did not feel at all -pleased, although I could say nothing in objection. I had had some slight -suspicion that my husband’s eyes, to say nothing of his heart, had lately -been inclined to wander in a certain direction, for he had become so -particularly regular in his attendance at the theatre. I mentioned the -matter to him once or twice, but he answered that as an editor it was -a matter of necessity for him to attend, and that he ought to be there -always. This I might, perhaps, have believed, had it not been that it was -now several years since his paper was first established, and hitherto -his personal attendance at every representation had not been considered -absolutely indispensable. Reporters had been able to do all that was -necessary. - -His proposal to marry this young lady, now it was openly stated, shed -light upon many things which had before appeared to me rather obscure. -Her name was Zina, and she was the daughter of Mrs. Zina D. Huntington -Jacobs, whom I have already mentioned as one of the Prophet’s wives. She -was one of the actresses in the theatre—for many of Brigham’s daughters -at that time took part in the representations—and I had frequently -observed very pretty little notices of her in the Salt Lake _Daily -Telegraph_. - -I did not much care now how many wives my husband took—he might as well -have twenty, as the one too many which he already had—his marriage to -another could not possibly make me feel any worse, provided I was not -compelled to associate with her. I had resolved that I would never live -on familiar terms with his other wives—not because I might disrespect or -dislike them personally, but because I could not overcome the purer and -better teachings of my early life. - -My husband in due form proposed, and was accepted; and it was soon -rumoured abroad that he was going to many one of the “President’s” -daughters—Brigham is always spoken of as “President” Young among the -Saints. In the course of a day or two they were formally “engaged,” and -a more loving couple could not possibly have been found. The young lady -herself afterwards told me that their love was of no ordinary kind, -and I’m sure I did not doubt her word. But consider how pleasant such -intelligence must have been to a wife! - -Zina’s friends, who wished to cheer me up and make me happy, told me that -my husband’s love for her was perfectly engrossing; they “thought he -could never have really loved before”—“there was something very beautiful -in their loves!” - -Zina pitied us, I know, when she realized that _we_ could never know -the great depth of _our_ husband’s love for her. She spoke and acted as -if this were how she felt; and I have no doubt that she intended, after -her marriage with _our_ husband, to treat us with great kindness and -consideration, as a sort of recompense for what we never had truly known, -and never could know _now_—_our_ husband’s love! - -As is almost always the case when the husband takes a third wife, a -better state of feeling was brought about between my own husband’s second -wife and myself. Belinda no longer centred all her jealousy in me. She -now, to a certain extent, began to realize what I had suffered when my -husband courted her; she felt badly, and I really did sympathize with -her when I remembered how young she was, and that she was the mother of -three little children. She had her moiety of a husband, it is true; but, -like all other polygamic wives, that was her misfortune rather than her -comfort and strength. Many a wife would be happier were she a widow; in -fact, widows are the happiest class of women in Utah, for they realize -that it is far better to have a dead sorrow than a living one. - -Now, our husband always maintained that he was not in love with Miss -Zina, but that in making love to her he was acting entirely from -principle. So all the brethren say, and I have never yet heard of any one -of them ever confessing—except, of course, to the maiden herself—that he -was in love. To the maiden herself he says, not only that, but a great -deal more. But if our husband, at the time of which I speak, was not in -love, the saints forbid that I should ever see him in that condition! -I am sure when I heard his fiancée speaking of their devotion to each -other, and of the fond attachment of her heart to him (for she felt no -delicacy in speaking to me—his wife—about such matters), I came to the -conclusion that I had never known what it was to really love, and that -my nature was too crude and unrefined to understand the mysteries of the -tender passion. There was no love in the case, _our_ husband told us—all -pure duty! - -Long courtships had become quite fashionable among the brethren in Salt -Lake City, and I dreaded a long courtship more than anything else, for -there is so much that is humiliating, and I might even say disgusting, to -a wife when her husband is engaged in love-making to another woman, that -I hoped, as much as possible, to be spared passing through such an ordeal -a second time. - -As the accepted lover and affianced husband of Brother Brigham’s -daughter, our husband was, of course, constantly in attendance at the -Prophet’s house. But he was not the only good brother who spent his -evenings in Brigham Young’s parlour; for it was then—and I suppose it -is to-day—a regular rendezvous for middle-aged and young men, and -even boys; and there the Prophet’s little girls, as well as those who -were grown or growing up, obtained an excellent training in the art of -flirting and courting. - -It has always been said among the Saints that Brigham’s girls, and the -daughters of Daniel H. Wells, were the boldest and least retiring maidens -to be found in Salt Lake City, and that they presumed greatly upon their -imaginary high position; which position nobody but themselves cared -anything about. It is well known that the very people upon whom they -look down are those who rightly should receive their warmest gratitude -and respect, on account of the more than liberal support which they have -given to their father, even to the detriment of their own children. - -When first I heard that my husband had set his affections upon one of -these girls, I felt convinced that he could not have made a very wise -choice; and I could not help dreading that the mere fact of my husband -having selected a daughter of the Prophet as his future wife would -bring trouble upon us all. What shape that trouble would take I could -form no conjecture, but I felt sure that a change of some sort was fast -approaching. My faith was almost gone; I felt the degrading position in -which the “Celestial” system placed me and my children, and it seemed to -me that I could no longer endure it. My children I could not, and would -not leave, but it was impossible for me to continue to live as I had -been living; nor would I think of bringing up my children any longer to -believe and live a religion which had so cruelly blighted my own life. It -was for them that I feared now; I felt that for their sake I must break -away from this horrible system. - -My own life, I thought, was not worth caring for, but the idea of my -little girls growing up and following in my footsteps and enduring as I -had endured, was more than I could bear. Something must be done to save -them from such a fate. - -About this time I procured a copy of the “Revelation on Celestial -Marriage,” and read it through carefully and calmly, from beginning to -end. The reader may, perhaps, remember that when a copy of it was first -given to me, in Switzerland, years before, I was so angry and indignant -that when I had got only partly through it I cast it from me in disgust -as an outrage upon all that was good and true. From that time, although -I had heard portions of it quoted and read, I had never perused it as a -whole. On two occasions, at least, my friend Mary Burton was very near -reading it through with me, and had we done so, I have not the slightest -doubt that my eyes would have been opened to the absurdity and wickedness -of the whole system, and years of wretchedness would have been spared me. - -Such, however, was not the case. It was not until I had almost drained -the cup of sorrow and degradation that, at last, I found an antidote in -the deadly thing itself which had been the source of all my unhappiness. -I was acting upon the homœopathic principle—“_similia similibus -curantur_”—and using a dose of poison to cure a disease caused by that -poison. - -As I read, I saw plainly, _from the wording of the document_, that if -ever it was given to Joseph Smith—no matter by whom—it was given _long -after_ he had _practised_ Polygamy—or something as bad—and to sanction -what he had already done. I had read in the Book of Mormon: - -“David and Solomon truly had many wives and concubines, _which thing was -an abomination before me, saith the Lord_.... Hearken to the Word of the -Lord: for there shall not any man among you have, save it be one wife; -and concubines he shall have none.” [_Book of Mormon_, p. 118.] - -In the Book of the Covenants, given through Joseph Smith, and held sacred -by every Saint, I had read: - -“Thou shalt love thy _wife_ with all thy heart, and cleave unto _her_ and -_none_ else.” [_Book of Covenants_, p. 124.] - -And yet when I turned to the “Revelation” I found in the very first -clause: - -“Verily, thus saith the Lord unto my servant Joseph, that inasmuch as you -have enquired at my hand, to know and understand wherein I, the Lord, -JUSTIFIED [!] my servants Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, as also Moses, David -and Solomon, my servants, as touching the principle and doctrine of their -having many wives and concubines,” &c. - -What could I possibly think of a “Prophet” who, after having the law -laid down so clearly, and being told so distinctly that the doings of -David and Solomon were an “abomination,” and that a man should have -_but one wife_, should enquire of the Lord how He “justified” the very -things which He had just declared were “an abomination” unto Him?—Then, -too, what blasphemy to represent God as one day giving a “Revelation” -declaring a thing sinful, and the next day “justifying” it! I felt -perfectly humiliated with myself that I had never before had the courage -to look the matter calmly in the face and discover, as I must have -discovered, had I only used my unaided reason, the shameful imposture -which had been palmed upon us. I now made careful enquiry, and it was -soon clear to me that evidence was not wanting to prove that the doctrine -of plural marriages originated in the licentious hearts of Joseph Smith -and those associated with him. When once I was convinced of that, the -whole fabric of my religion crumbled before my eyes; and from that time I -can hardly say that I had faith in anything that had been taught me. - -My husband’s second wife was also very unhappy now. She, too, after the -general rule, had flattered herself that _she_ was “his first and only -love,” and it was not pleasant to have her dream of happiness dispelled; -but now that another “jewel” was to be added to _our_ husband’s crown, -she could no longer deceive herself. She little knew, poor girl, when -she married, that a Mormon’s heart is like a honeycomb—there is always a -vacant cell wherein another may nestle. - -Real trouble, too, she had. One of her children was taken very sick, and -after a very severe illness died. I remained with her night and day, and -did what I could for the poor child. Had it been possible for me to have -felt a greater loathing and detestation for that vile system of Polygamy, -that feeling would have been conceived while I watched at the bedside of -my husband’s dying child. It was there that I vowed that no polygamists -should ever marry another daughter of mine, and resolved that to my dying -day my voice should be raised against the unholy and unnatural teachings -of the Mormon Priesthood. I looked at that lonely young mother, who in -her hour of trial ought to have had _all_ her husband’s sympathy, _all_ -his attention, to support her; but who, instead, knew that, however kind -he might be to her, he was contemplating a new marriage, and his thoughts -must of necessity be more or less with his purposed bride. All unkind -feeling was banished from my heart—I forgot that she was my husband’s -wife, and remembered only that, like myself, she was a suffering woman, -a victim to a false faith; and I felt very deeply for her in her time of -sorrow and bereavement. - -My husband, at this time, had been a member of the Mormon Church for -twenty-five years. He had lectured, preached, written and published, -in Great Britain, Switzerland, and the United States, in support of -the Mormon faith. He had been a most earnest and consistent member of -the Church, and devotedly attached to Brigham Young. This attachment -to Brother Brigham he shared in common with all the staunchest of his -brethren; for while the members of the Church retain unshaken confidence -in the new revelation, they naturally acquire a great regard for the -Prophet, and render him unquestioning obedience. I believe that my -husband would willingly have laid down his life, if by so doing he could -have shielded Brigham Young from harm or have been of essential service -to him. - -But causes were now in operation which, by-and-by, detached him from -the Church, and made it possible for me also to leave the Mormon faith. -Hitherto, for my children’s sake, I dared not leave the Church without -my husband, and I therefore anxiously watched for anything which might -rescue him from the bondage in which he was held. - -As proprietor of a daily paper, his business had frequently called him -to the Eastern States for several months at a time, and I observed that -after those visits his editorials took a more liberal turn. My Mormon -friends frequently said to me, “Brother Stenhouse is doing himself no -good by his constant association with the Gentiles;” and subsequently, -when he did apostatize, our secession from the Church was attributed to -contaminating Gentile influences. - -Then, too, we had frequent visits from strangers passing through Salt -Lake City. I saw, with pleasure, that this intercourse with the outside -world was gradually undermining my husband’s confidence in the teachings -of the Elders, and it gave me courage to hope that, after all, the day of -liberty might dawn at last. Feeling as I did thus, it will not surprise -the reader that I regarded with more and more distrust the proposed -marriage of my husband to Brother Brigham’s daughter; for I felt that -then he would be deeper than ever in the toils of the Priesthood, and I -sometimes almost believed that it was my duty to use every influence in -my power to prevent it. - -Putting my own feelings out of the question, it is probable that I might -have done this simply for his own good; for I doubted not that some day -the scales must fall from his eyes, and then he would be thankful that I -had prevented the marriage. Our paths by this time had certainly diverged -far asunder, and my husband had another wife and family; but I believed -that he was sincere, though sadly mistaken, or I should not have felt so -kindly towards him as I did. - -At other times, and observing his devotion, I almost myself began to -think that perhaps the nonsense that I had heard was, after all, true, -and that this girl _was_ the only one he had really loved; and, if so, of -course he ought to marry her. In fact, so divided was my attention that -I hardly knew what to think; I therefore resolved to act according to -circumstances. - -Brigham Young, in one of his sermons, says that “the first thing -manifested in the case of apostasy was the idea that the Prophet was -liable to make a mistake: when a man believes that, he has taken the -first step towards apostasy; he need only take one step more, and he is -out of the Church.” This was spoken of Joseph and his saints, but it -suits just as well Brigham and his; I knew very well that my husband had -taken the first step, and I sincerely hoped that he might soon take the -second. For my own part, I had for some time not only believed that a -Prophet _might_ be mistaken, but, as Brother Heber would say, I _knew_ it. - -My husband and his bride elect, like all other lovers, had frequent -little quarrels—I suppose for the purpose of making up again, and -being then all the more ardent in their affection. But they now had a -disagreement which lasted longer than all that had gone before; although -I suppose that neither of them had, at that time, the slightest idea how -it was going to end. They had been courting for fifteen months at least, -and after so much devotion on the part of my husband, and so much fervent -affection on the part of the young lady, it really did seem too bad that -so large an amount of love should be thrown away. It was hard that after -such a long strain upon their religious and devotional feelings—for -they were both very pious lovers—all their labour of love should come -to nought. Things had certainly taken a twist, for I knew well enough -that at one time they both firmly believed that their marriage was -pre-ordained in heaven, and that they were as completely one in feeling -as mortals ever could be. The mother, too, who was a very pious woman, -once told my husband that she had had a vision in which it was revealed -to her that they were destined for each other in the eternal worlds:—the -lovers of course firmly believed her. But, for all that, the estrangement -still continued, and my husband was constantly making it wider by the -articles which appeared in his paper, until at last certain of the -sisters whispered that the heart of the lady had been attracted towards -some brighter luminary. - -Long courtships often end disastrously; but when I heard rumours of the -lady’s presumed faithlessness, it seemed to me hardly fair, for the day -had been fixed for the marriage and the wedding-dress actually made. -Of course I sympathized with my husband. Would any wife like to see her -husband disappointed in his love-affairs with another woman, I wonder? - -While under these natural feelings of indignation, I one day told Brigham -Young that I thought, after all the courting that had been done—and it -was not a trifle—they certainly ought to be married. He said he was -willing enough himself, if they wished it; but girls, he said, often -changed their minds, and as they could but have one husband, it was only -fair that their wishes should be consulted. “If Zina has really changed -her mind,” he added, “I have plenty of other daughters, and they have all -got to be married; let him take one of them—if one won’t another will!” -The reader will see the liberal ideas which Brother Brigham entertains on -the subject of marriage. - -It may, perhaps, seem rather strange that I should be anxious to have -them marry; but, after all that I had seen and endured in Polygamy, -can it be wondered at that I should no longer regard the father of my -children as my own husband? Had I thought him a bad man, or had he acted -as I know many of the good brethren do act; had he brought home girl -after girl with the hope of alluring one or more of them into Polygamy, -or had he been utterly reckless of my feelings, I might perhaps have -been able to cast him from my heart without a single regret. But I -really believed that he was acting consistently with the teachings of -his religion, and if I felt degraded by the life I lived, it was not his -fault—it was the fault of the system. I therefore felt that if things -came to the worst, and if I were driven to extremities, and forced to -separate from him, I should like to know that he had a wife whom he -loved. I felt certain that there was now but little love between him and -his second wife, and that some day a separation was sure to take place. -The idea of divorce was so repugnant to my feelings that it was only in -moments when grief overpowered me, and my heart was wrung with anguish, -and I felt utterly reckless, that I for one moment thought of anything -like it. Even then I only entertained the idea of a separate life—not -divorce. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVII. - -SOME CURIOUS COURTSHIPS—BRIGHAM RUINS OUR FORTUNES—BELINDA DIVORCES “OUR” -HUSBAND. - - -Mormonism had been, to my husband, everything. It had for years grown -with his growth, until it had become a part of himself. Doubts had -occasionally crept into his mind, it is true, but it required time to -effect a change. The measures adopted by Brigham Young in the spring of -1869, for the purpose of controlling the commerce of Utah, as well as the -property and faith of the people, caused great discontent. The teachings -of the Tabernacle were wild and arrogant, and Brigham assumed that it -was his right to dictate in everything, “even,” he said, “to the setting -up of a stocking or the ribbons which a woman should wear.” Many of the -people, when they heard these words and witnessed the fanaticism created -thereby, were aroused to opposition, but Brigham only became more fierce -in his denunciations and more harsh in his measures. - -I could plainly see that all this had the, to me, much desired effect of -alienating my husband from Mormonism, and I never allowed an opportunity -of strengthening the impression thus produced to pass unimproved. The -articles in his paper showed the condition of his mind, and brought down -upon him the wrath of Brigham. At this also I rejoiced, and did not fail -to make him feel that he ought to resent the Prophet’s interference. -Brigham felt too certain of the submission of his slave, and accused -Mr. Stenhouse of having published favourable notices of Gentile stores, -also of having their advertisements in his paper, and otherwise aiding -and abetting the wicked Gentiles—all which accusations my husband began -to feel was an infringement upon his own private personal rights as a -citizen and a man. One circumstance followed another, and I could plainly -see that his confidence in Brigham’s inspiration was slowly but surely -dwindling away, and that the day which I had so long anxiously watched -for was breaking at last. Notwithstanding this, however, there was -one bond which still united him by no weak tie to the Church—he was a -Polygamist. The contemplated marriage between him and Brigham’s daughter -could, I believed, never now take place; but, even allowing that, he -still had another wife; and now that I had entirely lost faith in -Mormonism generally, and the “Celestial Order of Marriage” in particular, -I resolved that I would no longer have a partner in my husband’s -affections—as if he were a “joint-stock concern!”—I would have the whole -of my husband, or none. I had not yet, however, sufficient courage to -speak to him of my feelings. - -One Sunday evening, Mr. Stenhouse, when he came home, said to me: -“Brother Brigham has given me a mission; he wishes me to go to Ogden and -publish my paper there.” - -I can imagine I see some strong-minded woman smile at the idea of a wife -wanting courage to speak to her husband. But such women do not know what -Mormonism is. - -This was very unexpected news; but with the vividness of lightning, -a glimpse of what the Prophet intended by such a strange proposition -flashed across my mind. “He wishes to ruin us!” I exclaimed; “you surely -will not go!” - -Now Brigham, of course, knew that my husband’s paper had a large -circulation in Utah Territory as well as in Salt Lake City, and that his -business was in a most prosperous condition; he knew also that to do -aught that might impair or destroy that business would be to bring misery -and disaster upon all who were dependent upon it for their daily bread. -And yet, for all that, he told my husband to break up his establishment, -or in his own words, “to pull up root and branch,” and go to a place -where the people were so miserably poor that it was impossible to make a -newspaper successful among them. - -In all this the crafty Prophet no doubt acted wisely. The _Daily -Telegraph_ would in all probability become a power in the Territory, -and he feared that in a short time it would emancipate itself from his -control. - -I do not doubt that, long before this time, he had noted that my husband -was weakening in the faith; but he had waited for his opportunity, and -now he considered that it had come. We knew very well that this was the -way in which he had always acted towards those whom he feared or doubted; -when he saw them growing weak in the faith he ruined them, or did the -best he could to that effect, before they finally left the Church. I -urged my husband to resist this arbitrary decree on the part of the -Prophet, and represented strongly the misery which would result from his -failure, and the utter impossibility of success. But I soon found that, -though he doubted Brigham, his faith in Mormonism was by no means all -gone—he, like many another, feared that in disobeying Brigham, perhaps, -after all, he might be resisting God. He could see the wrong-doing of the -Prophet, and felt that his conduct was unworthy of one who pretended to -such great things; but be regarded this as the weakness of the Prophet’s -humanity, at the same time believing that in matters of religion he might -be divinely inspired. He was still so under the influence of the past -that he could not yet break asunder the yoke and bid defiance to Brigham -and the Priesthood. He told me that now was the time for him to prove his -obedience, cost what it might; and all the brethren urged him to submit, -saying that the Lord would overrule everything for his good. - -Believing this, he broke up his establishment at Salt Lake City, and -went, as “counselled,” to Ogden. There he remained for several months, -during which time he was losing money every day. Finding at last that -he could stand it no longer, he asked Brigham Young’s permission to -return and recommence his paper in Salt Lake City, for no one then -dared stir a foot without permission. This was granted, for Brigham had -now accomplished his purpose. But some of our friends told me that the -teachers, when making their weekly visits, were telling the people not -to take in Brother Stenhouse’s paper again, if he came back to Salt Lake -City, for he was apostatizing, and they must not sustain an Apostate. -Now, I thought, my husband will believe that I was right in my judgment -of Brigham’s motives. - -My own family and that of the second wife did not accompany my husband to -Ogden; he was therefore quite at home when he returned, but the expense -of transferring his business from one place to another was perfectly -ruinous. He had not only purchased valuable property, as I before -mentioned, in the City, but he had also realized quite a comfortable -little fortune by the success of his paper; but now the property had to -be mortgaged, and his fortune was, of course, utterly insufficient for -these heavy daily losses. Just then, the severe illness of my eldest son, -in San Francisco, made it necessary that we should leave immediately -to attend him, for we had received intelligence that he was not at all -likely to recover. As it was my own son who was sick, my husband had -very naturally determined that I should accompany him; but this brought -on such a severe fit of jealousy on the part of his young wife, who -already was by no means too happy, that when we returned, after my son’s -recovery, she threatened to obtain a divorce. My husband told me of this, -but I had so frequently heard such threats from wives who were unhappy or -neglected that I thought little about it. - -One day, not long after our return, I was quite surprised to see Mr. -Stenhouse and Joseph A. Young drive up to the door, looking as if -something of great importance had just transpired. Mr. Stenhouse jumped -out of his buggy and hurriedly gave me a letter, as I thought—at the same -time saying, “Take great care of this, for it makes me a free man again.” -Saying this, he left the house, jumped into the buggy again, and was -gone, while I stood holding the paper, wondering what it all could mean. - -My husband had told me to “take care” of the paper. He neither said “read -it” or “don’t read it,” and, of course, I was not in the least curious. -The envelope was not sealed, so I made up my mind that, though he had not -said so, he must have wished me to read what was inside, and at any rate -I resolved to risk doing so. To my astonishment I found that the document -which he said set him free was nothing else than a bill of divorce -between him and his young wife. It appeared afterwards that she had been -to Brother Brigham, had told him of her grievances, and had asked for a -divorce. - -Now when the wife of any man who is of good standing in the Church, and -whom Brigham wishes to honour, comes to him for a divorce, he generally -sends for the husband _first_, tells him about it, and they talk it -over together. The husband is counselled to “make the matter up,” and -a compromise is effected. In the case of my husband, Brigham acted -otherwise. The clerk had been directed to make out the papers, which -the second wife signed, and, as far as she was concerned, her marriage -was dissolved. My husband was then notified that he was wanted at the -Prophet’s office, and he had a very shrewd guess as to what the nature -of the business was for which his presence was desired. He waited till -the afternoon, when he knew that Brigham would be absent, and then as -he was driving out with Joseph A., the Prophet’s son, he drew up before -the office and asked Joseph to accompany him inside in order to witness -a little business which he had to transact. Joseph agreed; but when he -found what the business really was, he strongly urged my husband not to -sign the papers, or, at least, to take time and consult with President -Young first. Mr. Stenhouse, however, never for a moment doubted that -Brigham had expected by this hasty move to bring him to his feet, and he -would not therefore yield. So, asking the clerk for the papers, he signed -them, and Joseph also signed them as a witness; the other witness was -David Mackenzie, Brigham’s clerk. Belinda had already affixed her name. -Ten dollars were then handed over as the usual fee. My husband took one -copy of the “bill of divorce,” the wife had a right to a second copy, and -the third was deposited in the archives of Zion. My husband had then, as -we have seen, hastened home to tell me that he was “a free man:” and yet -these two had been “sealed” to each other at the altar in the Endowment -House “_for all eternity!_” - -This is the way that divorces are granted in Utah. There is not the -slightest difficulty about them, if only Brother Brigham is willing. The -reader would, perhaps, be interested in seeing one of these terrible -documents. I therefore append a true, perfect, and exact copy of my -husband’s own bill of divorce. It is a _fac-simile_—type, signatures, -and all. This is a specimen of an orthodox divorce among the _bon ton_ -in Salt Lake City. Out in the Settlements they do things in a much more -primitive style, and some of their documents are rather amusing. The -following is a correct copy of a Mormon divorce bill taken from the -records of Beaver City:— - - March 8th 1871 - - To whomsoever it may concern - - This is to certify in the beginning of 1869 when I gave a bill - of divorce to Sarah Ann Lowry I gave to her for the good of her - four children the following property viz. A parcel of land of - about nine acres enclosed all around with a house of two rooms - and one cow and heifer - - WILLIAM C RITTER - -I could, if space permitted, give many others equally interesting. - -[Illustration: FAC-SIMILE OF A MORMON “BILL OF DIVORCE.” - -_To face p. 344._] - -I cannot say that I was much grieved at the sight of my husband’s -divorce. At the same time, long training in the school of trouble had -hardened my heart and rendered me almost indifferent, and I cannot say -that I very greatly rejoiced. Nature adapts us morally, as well as -physically, to the positions which we have to occupy in life. The hand -of him who labours much becomes hard, the unshodden foot grows horny, -and the heart which at first is tender and, like the Æolian harp, ready -to answer to the slightest passing breath, by and by, beneath the rough -hand of trial and the world, becomes callous and stony, and the roughest -storms and the sweetest pleasures alike seem to make little impression -upon it. - -Thus it was with me when I received that paper. A few years before, a -reliable assurance that my husband would never enter into Polygamy would -have been to me the realization of my best earthly wishes. But now my -heart was almost dead, and I felt as if I hardly cared one way or the -other. If I felt thus, who had still all my darling children around me, -who had never missed one dear little face from the fireside or from the -table, what must have been endured by those mothers who not only gave -away their husbands to other wives, but who lost child after child, -until, bereft of all they loved on earth, they could but, like Rachael, -sit down in ashes and mourn for the dead? - -But the more I thought over what had happened, the more doubtful I felt -as to what the result would be. That there would be some great change -in our life, I felt assured; but to me the change was coming almost too -late. Then, too, the young wife who in her hasty anger had obtained the -divorce. I felt that her happiness must surely be gone, and I could not -bear the thought that my peace should be purchased with the sorrows of -another. Brother Brigham’s part in the matter was also ever present in -my mind. That he had resolved to bring ruin upon my husband I did not -now for a moment doubt. But if a weak woman’s efforts could in any way -assist in thwarting his designs, I fully resolved that he never should -have the satisfaction of seeing those designs successful. I would stand -by my husband, I would work for and assist him, and would give not even -a passing thought to what I might have suffered, or remember that he had -ever loved others better than myself. I would be to him now the true wife -that before God I had vowed to be, for worse as well as for better; and -however I myself might have been wronged, I would, for my part, endeavour -faithfully to perform my whole duty to my husband and to God. - -After I had formed this mental resolution, and had begun to realize our -new position, I felt as if awakening from a long dream of many years. -I was released from the clutches of that frightful nightmare—Polygamy; -and I could once more take my place beside my husband as his wife. I -knew that he would have much to contend against, and would need all the -moral support that I could accord to him. Brigham’s efforts in respect -to my husband’s paper had been far too successful, and although it was -still carried on, fresh difficulties sprang up every day. My husband had -been deceived by Brigham’s oily manner and plausible way; but to others -his intention in sending him away was no secret. A man named Bull, who -is now and was also at that time employed in the _Deseret News_ office, -said that no one but Mr. Stenhouse had ever been deceived by what the -Prophet had done; it was commonly reported that Brigham intended to ruin -my husband, and that when he prophesied that the paper in Ogden should -be a great success, he was himself perfectly aware that it was utterly -impossible that such could be the case. - -Whether Brigham was the deceiver or the deceived, I do not wish to say. -Men who consider themselves inspired, and go on day by day uttering all -sorts of nonsense and blasphemy, and giving impertinent and mischievous -advice in the “name of the Lord,” at last become thoroughly impervious -to reason, and daily and hourly deceive themselves. I hope, for his own -sake, it was so with Brigham, for I would rather believe him a self-made -fool than a downright knave; and in many of his transactions—perhaps I -ought almost to say _all_—it is clear to every one that he is either -one or the other. Of one thing I am certain—I was fully contented that -we should lose all, if only my husband were taken, once and for ever, -clean out of the meshes of Mormonism. We might have to make a terrible -sacrifice, but to me it was a sacrifice well worth the making. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVIII. - -MARY BURTON—LIFE’S JOURNEY ENDED: REST AT LAST. - - -It was about this time that one morning, very early, before I was well -up, a young girl came to the house in a great hurry, asking to speak to -me without a moment’s delay. - -I threw a wrapper round me, and went out at once to see her. She said she -came from the house of Sister Mary Burton, and begged me to come directly -and see her, for Mary had taken poison, and it was thought she was dying. - -Now, I have been so much engaged of late in telling my own sorrows, -that Mary Burton has quite dropped out of my story. But it must not be -supposed that all that time I saw nothing of my poor friend. On the -contrary, I had seen her much more frequently of late than I used to when -I first came to Salt Lake City. When I last spoke of her it was when she -was about to return to Southern Utah, where she and her husband then -resided. It was evident to me from her conversation, as it must have been -to the reader, that her faith in Mormonism had even then entirely gone; -that she felt her husband’s neglect and unkindness most keenly, and that -she had become a miserable, broken-hearted woman. It was very painful to -contrast what she now was with what she had been when I first knew her, -and then to think what a happy wife and mother she might have been if the -spectre of Mormonism had not crossed her path. - -Mary and her husband, Elder Shrewsbury, left the Settlements about a year -after the time I last mentioned her, and took up their abode in Salt Lake -City. Elder Shrewsbury had prospered exceedingly, and when he came to -Salt Lake he brought with him, besides Mary, his second wife, Ellen, who, -as we before noticed, had become very much attached to her. The other -three wives and their children were left at the farm in Southern Utah. He -would probably have brought them all with him, had there been in the city -a house large enough to hold them all. As it was, he purchased a good lot -about half a mile from where we resided, with a comfortable house upon -it; and there his first and second wives lived together. This was the -man who had solemnly sworn before God, that _he_ would _never_ practise -Polygamy! But I doubt if Elder Shrewsbury, with his comfortable house in -the city, his farm and lands in the South, his fast increasing property, -and his many wives, felt truly the hundredth part of the happiness which -he would have experienced in the devotion of _one_ faithful heart, -even had it been in the midst of poverty and care. He, however, poor -infatuated man, did not think thus; he was actually even now courting -a young girl of about seventeen years of age, who the two wives daily -expected would be brought home to aid in building up their husband’s -“Kingdom.” I do not think Mary cared much about this. It was the taking -of the first plural wife that was her great sorrow. After that, her love -for her husband weakened, until it altogether died out, and she did not -care how many wives he took. - -Mary’s high spirit was always urging her into rebellion. In married -life both husband and wife give way to each other in a thousand little -things, of no consequence in themselves, but quite sufficient, without -the presence of love, to sow the seeds of discord. But when love has -fled, and the husband looks upon his wife—the companion of his youth, -the mother of his children—not as the partner of his whole life and the -sharer of all his joys and sorrows, but as a person whose presence is a -reproach to him and who is an inconvenience rather than otherwise; and -when the wife regards her husband as one whom formerly she loved with -true devotion, but who has cruelly broken her heart and trampled upon her -feelings, and who is nothing to her now but a tyrant whose very presence -is painful to her, can there then be any forbearance, any of those gentle -kindnesses, any of those loving forgivenesses, any of those mutual -tendernesses and sweet confidences which constitute the charm of married -life? - -In giving up Mormonism, my unhappy friend gave up, as too many have done, -faith in all else. She had lived, as she thought, a life of religion; and -when she found what a terrible mockery of all that is holy that so-called -religion was, she cast it aside, thinking that all religion was vain. She -did not see that she would have acted just as wisely in rejecting all -food because she chanced to partake of some that was poisoned; she did -not see that, although the broken reed on which she rested was unable -to yield her any true support, nevertheless the everlasting foundations -of eternal truth which God Himself has laid can _never_ be removed; -and that though creeds and systems may fail and pass away, only to give -place to others equally unsatisfactory, yet those divine verities are -established for ever, are beyond the reach of earthly vicissitudes, and -know nothing of time or change. - -Utterly miserable and sick at heart, Mary cared not whether she lived or -died. There was nothing to bind her to life, and beyond the life of this -world she was altogether without hope. A more wretched existence it is -scarcely possible to imagine. - -While they were still in the Settlements, she treated the other wives -with the greatest contempt, sitting by them at the table or passing them -in the house without vouchsafing a look or a word. Her husband, as might -be expected, avoided her whenever it was possible, and the other wives -returned her coldness and disdain, and in turn annoyed her as much as -they could when they were not too busy looking after one another. It -would be impossible to picture a house more divided against itself than -was that of Elder Shrewsbury. - -When the two wives, Ellen and Mary, lived together with their husband in -Salt Lake City, Mary of course had no opportunity of showing her hatred -and contempt for the polygamic wives. But towards her husband she evinced -a cold disdain, as if he were now nothing at all to her—as if her very -heart itself had been withered. For Ellen, who, since Elder Shrewsbury -had taken his other wives, had clung to her with a child-like affection, -and to her own little girl alone, she showed that deep and constant love -which she had once lavished upon such an unworthy object. - -She used to come to me and tell me all her griefs; and in a passion of -rage and tears she would hurl defiance at Mormonism and curse bitterly -the system that had wrecked her life. Then I would soothe her, and speak -calmly to her, and try to place matters in their best light; and she -would sit and listen in a painful state of apathy, as if she cared for -none of these things. Presently she would rise and go, and then, perhaps, -I would not see her for weeks together, unless I chanced to call upon her -at her own house. Sometimes, for days and even weeks at a time, she would -shut herself up in her room and refuse to see her husband or any one -else, except her little girl, who slept in the same room with her, and -who at such times used to bring in what food they wanted; for in these -melancholy fits she would not even let the servants come near her. - -There was a little table near the window, and from the casement of the -window could be seen in the far distance the lofty ranges of the Wahsatch -Mountains. And sitting at that table, gazing from that window, with her -cheek resting upon her hand, Mary would watch the whole day long, as if -entranced in some ecstatic vision. Her little girl—a child of winning -ways, bashful to an extreme and very pretty, but, though so young, with a -look of wistful sadness upon her childish face—had become accustomed to -her mother’s ways; and when one of these long spells of melancholy came -upon her, she would either steal out quietly and wander away for a long -walk all by herself—for she never played with the other children in her -father’s house—or else, as was more frequently the case, she would sit -down on the ground near her mother and silently amuse herself with a book -or some childish toy. - -To my mind there was something inexpressibly painful in all this. When -Mary did not come to see me, I would call round at her husband’s house, -and try to draw her out from her melancholy seclusion. It was very seldom -that I saw Elder Shrewsbury, and I cannot say that I wished to do so. He -had, as his wife told me, undergone a complete change since I knew him in -England. The open look, the upright bearing, the earnestness of speech, -which then characterized him, were now gone for ever. He was still a -handsome man, rather portly, and evidently well to do in the world; but -there were lines about his eyes which ought not to have been seen in the -face of a man of his years; and his lips, without uttering a word, told -their own story. - -Heartbroken and wretched, weary of life, and yet with no hopeful -assurance of life beyond the grave, poor Mary lived on year after year, -while those who seemed to dance in the very sunshine of existence were -cut off like the summer flowers in the harvest-field. Lately, however, I -thought I saw symptoms of a change. I noticed that she was perceptibly -growing thinner and thinner; her eye seemed brighter, and there was -always a flush upon her cheek, which would have been beautiful had it not -been for the seal of melancholy which was stamped upon every feature. But -the brightness of the eye, and the flush upon the cheek, were not symbols -of health, but the imprint of the finger of death. - -She did not know this. Though she longed to die, she little thought that -death was so near her. Sometimes she would talk almost happily of the old -by-gone days; then she would sit brooding over her griefs; and then again -she would talk anxiously about the future of her little daughter. I had -seen other wives as wretched as poor Mary was—ay, more so, for they had -abject, grinding poverty superadded to all their woes; but, more than for -any other I felt for my poor friend, and exerted myself to the uttermost -to comfort her. In this I had been to a certain extent successful. She -would appear for a time a little more cheerful, but it was not long -before she relapsed into her habitual melancholy way. - -That which troubled me most of late, in my intercourse with Mary, was -the fact that she was always talking about _death_. This certainly was -no matter of surprise to me, but it was very painful. Over and over -again she would discuss the question whether, under _any_ circumstances, -suicide could be justified, and whether if any one, in absolute despair, -were to take away their own life, God would ever pardon them. - -I would never enter into such subjects as these, for I considered that -such conversation showed a morbid condition of mind, and could not -possibly be of any good to either of us, and would only suggest harmful -thoughts. But again and again Mary reverted to the subject, and I really -at last began to grow quite anxious about her. - -It was not, therefore, with surprise that I received the summons that -morning. I did not wait to ask any questions about the poisoning, but -hastened to the bedside of my unfortunate friend, trusting that I might -yet be in time to render some assistance. - -I found her lying on the bed, partly dressed, and, as it seemed to me -at first, asleep. There was, at the bedside, and bending over her, the -second wife, who was in as much trouble as if the sufferer had been her -own sister. The poor girl had been weeping, and was evidently very much -distressed. There was also present in the room another sister, whom I -recognized as a friend of Mary’s. The little daughter of the unfortunate -woman was there as well. One person, whom every one would naturally have -expected to see at the bedside of a dying wife under such circumstances, -was conspicuous by his absence—I mean, of course, Elder Shrewsbury -himself. - -I sat down on the bed, beside poor Mary, and took her hand in mine. It -was cold but damp, and her breathing was somewhat heavy. She was still -unconscious. I asked the pretty pale-faced girl—the second wife—who was -bending over her, how it had all happened, and whether they had had a -doctor. - -“Oh, yes,” she said, sobbing all the time; “we sent for the doctor, and -he has only just gone. He said he had done all he could, and that we -could let her sleep on now.” - -She then told me what had taken place. It appeared that the night before -Elder Shrewsbury had gone up into Mary’s room to speak to her about some -matter of importance. Although living in the same house, she had not -seen him for several weeks, and the mere fact of being in his presence -agitated her. He told her he had come to talk about her child—little -Mary, called Mary after her mother. For some reason or other, which -nobody then seemed to understand, Elder Shrewsbury had taken a fancy -that the child should be separated from her mother; he wanted to send -her to stay with his other family in the Settlements, and it was for -this purpose he came to see Mary that night. It certainly did seem the -refinement of cruelty to separate the child from her poor mother, who -would thus have become, as one might say, doubly widowed; and I am -strongly inclined to question whether Elder Shrewsbury’s motives were of -the purest kind. It is, however, only just to state that subsequently, -when speaking to a friend about the matter, he said that he had long -noticed in his wife what he considered were incipient symptoms of -madness, and he thought that his duty towards the child imperatively -demanded that he should immediately take her away from her mother. He -added—as was indeed true—that his other wives in the South would have -taken the greatest care of her. - -Mary was furious when the proposal was made to her. She bitterly -upbraided her husband for all his cruelty and neglect; she cursed him for -his perfidy, and she avowed that nothing but death should separate her -from her little girl. - -Elder Shrewsbury trembled at the anger of his poor forsaken wife, and he -crept out of her room and downstairs. But Mary could not be appeased. -She went to the room of the second wife—the only creature in the house, -besides her little girl, with whom she sometimes condescended to hold -intercourse—and there she acted in a very wild and extravagant way. It -was with great difficulty that she was at last persuaded to lie down -and take a little rest. She would not go to her own room; so Ellen—the -second wife—persuaded her to remain with her all the night. She lay down, -but did not sleep. She muttered strange things, and by-and-by sat up in -the bed and spoke as if people were present whom she had known years -and years ago. Ellen was frightened; but out of love to Mary, and not -wishing that others should see her in that crazy condition, she did not -call for help, thinking that presently she would fall asleep, and in the -morning all would be right. But the long night passed away, and just -before daybreak Ellen fell into a sort of fitful slumber. It would seem -that just then poor Mary discovered for the first time that she was not -sleeping in her own room, and that her little daughter was not with her. -Distracted as her mind was, she probably thought that they had stolen the -child away, and went in search of her. - -She found her way to her own room, and then what happened no one, of -course, could tell. She must have seen that her child was safe; and it -is not unlikely that, reassured on that point, she felt that she needed -rest, and thought that it would be best to take some sedative to produce -the sleep which she believed would restore her to herself again. She had -in her room a little leather medicine-chest—a very useful article for any -one travelling, or to keep in the house—and to that she must have had -resort. Certain it is, that when, an hour later, Ellen awoke and went to -see what had become of her husband’s first wife, she found the little -medicine-chest open upon the bureau, Mary lying upon the bed, apparently -asleep, and a faint sickly smell, which one better versed in such things -would have known was the smell of opium, pervading the whole room. - -Ellen began to scream and call for help, and one of the women about the -house, who was up at that early hour, came to see what was the matter. -She, upon hearing what Ellen said, rushed downstairs shrieking for -assistance. Fortunately for every one, Elder Shrewsbury, who had just -risen, was standing in the hall-way below. He took hold of the noisy -woman and asked her what was the matter; and after hearing all she had -to say he sent her to attend to her domestic duties, with a strict -injunction to say nothing to a living soul about what she had seen or -heard. - -Elder Shrewsbury then went up to Mary’s room, and there he learned -that all that the silly woman had just said to him was quite true. He, -however, betrayed no emotion. Very calmly he put the stopper back into -the laudanum bottle, then looked at his watch and hesitated, all the -while that pale-faced Ellen was looking anxiously at him, wanting to know -what she could _do_. After a few moments of indecision, Elder Shrewsbury -turned to Ellen and said, “Yes; go for the doctor.” - -Ellen flew upon her mission. - -Meanwhile, Elder Shrewsbury looked towards the bed where poor Mary -lay—Mary, for whose love he had perjured his soul—Mary who never would -have been his had he not given that sacred promise, the breaking of -which made him an outlaw from heaven and a thing to be despised of men. -He looked for one single moment at his poor wife as she lay there, and -then he turned upon his heel and went out of the room. For the wealth -of all the world I would not feel as that man felt, if the thoughts -which then crowded upon his brain were what, for the sake of our common -humanity, I trust they were. The remembrance of the life which his folly -or fanaticism—it matters little which—had blasted; the thought of that -solemn vow which he had taken to love her only and for ever; the sight -of that dear one to whom he had once plighted his troth, now desolate, -forsaken, almost maniac in her wretchedness. Oh God! what a curse was -_there_ for any man’s soul to bear! - -The physician, when he came, administered an emetic and made them walk -the patient about the room. Ellen and the friend of Mary who was present -volunteered for this service. They supported her, one on each side, and -paced her round and round the room, thus compelling her to exertion; -and from time to time they made her swallow doses of strong coffee, in -which a little brandy had been mixed. When, at length, signs of returning -consciousness were apparent, the physician left, promising to call again -in the course of the morning. - -It was then that some one present thought of sending for me, and I -arrived not long after the physician had gone. I was the only person, -outside the family, beside the friend whom I have mentioned, who knew of -anything that had taken place—so careful were they that the matter should -not get abroad; and I should certainly not have been summoned had it not -been for the close intimacy which existed between Mary and myself, which -made us more like sisters than friends. The reader must not, however, -suppose that in relating this I am even now betraying a trust; for my -friends in Utah know as well as I do that so many unhappy wives have in -their desperation been driven to attempt self-destruction, that having -no clue in the name, which solely out of love for my poor friend, I have -all through this narrative given her, they will not know who to fix -upon as the person to whom I allude.[3] There is, however, _one_ still -living—_he_ will know—let his own conscience be his accuser. - -In about half an hour’s time, Mary began to recognize those who were -around her, but she did not seem disposed to speak. She opened her eyes -and looked dreamily at me for a long time, but the slight pressure of -my hand was her only recognition of my presence. I bent down over her -and whispered a few assuring words in her ear, and for a moment a faint, -weary smile lighted up her thin, pale face. It was not like the sweet -smiles of the by-gone days which used to suffuse her whole countenance -with sunshine—it was but the very ghost of a smile. Presently she sank -into a gentle slumber; but I still sat by her on the bed, holding her -hand in mine, and I remained there for two or three hours. Then, after -seeing that everything was at hand which she could possibly want if she -awoke, and assured by Ellen that she would not leave her until she was -able to sit up, I left for my own home. - -At the bottom of the stairs, in the hall-way, I was confronted by Elder -Shrewsbury himself. This surprised me, as hitherto he had most sedulously -avoided coming in contact with me. He gave me one searching glance, as -if to read my thoughts, and then said: “Sister Stenhouse, this is a most -unhappy affair, but say nothing about it—no good can come of talking of -such matters.” - -I assured him that for Mary’s sake—not for his—I would not speak of what -had transpired; but when he held out his hand for me to shake, I affected -not to see it, but wished him good-morning, and left the house. - - * * * * * - -For some time she said nothing to me about the sad event which had so -greatly troubled us, and when at length she hesitatingly alluded to it, -I was much relieved to find that the taking of the deadly drug was on -her part wholly accidental. It was as I from the first suspected—for I -knew and loved my dear friend too well to wrong her even by a thought. -Cruelly as she had suffered, wretched and miserable as she was, bitterly -as she felt, the instincts of her heart were too true and her nature too -noble to allow of her seeking oblivion from her troubles in voluntary -and premeditated death, as I have known was the case with many wretched -Mormon wives. She had only thought to take an opiate to soothe the -feverish excitement which had almost bereft her of reason, and, in the -weak and enfeebled condition in which she was, the draught had been too -powerful for her. Guiltless as she was, she dreaded that others might -impute wrong motives to her in what she had done; and even to me she -spoke of her sickness painfully and with hesitation. - -After this, I called day after day upon my poor friend, until she was -sufficiently recovered to walk about and even to get out of doors a -little. The story of the unhappy attempt which she was supposed to have -made upon her life, by some means, however, got rumoured abroad, and she -heard of it. She said nothing at the time, but I believe it preyed upon -her mind. Weak and failing in health, as she long had been, the shock -which her system had received was too much for her, and it was evident to -every one who saw her that her earthly trials would soon be ended. She -sank gradually, and life ebbed from her gently and without pain. A few -days before she died, she sent for me, and I spent several hours with -her. I might say that they were happy hours; for the near prospect of -death seemed to have dispelled all those gloomy fears of the future life -which had for so many years troubled her soul; and she now looked forward -with peaceful resignation to her approaching change. Death came at last -to her when she was sleeping, and she passed away tranquilly and without -a sigh. I almost rejoiced when I heard that at last her weary journey -was over, and she was at rest. I loved her with the fondest affection, -and shall never think of her without bitter feelings towards that unholy -system which brought her to an untimely grave. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIX. - -MY HUSBAND DISFELLOWSHIPPED—WE APOSTATIZE—BRUTAL OUTRAGE UPON MY HUSBAND -AND MYSELF. - - -Notwithstanding all my own personal troubles and the difficulties which -surrounded us, the loss of my dear friend affected me very deeply. -And yet her story is the same as might be told of hundreds of other -English girls who have been lured from their happy homes and have died -broken-hearted and neglected in Utah. - -Now came that change in our life which I had so long hoped for, but which -had always seemed to me so very far distant. We had been tossed by many -a storm, but the violence of this last gale was such that it forced us -clean out of the sea of Mormonism, and landed us high and dry upon the -firm ground of Apostasy. - -About the time when my husband returned with his paper to Salt Lake -City, the _Utah Magazine_, a liberal journal just struggling into -existence, began to call in question some of Brigham’s measures; and -the editors, who were all men of some mark in the Mormon Church, -presumed to hint that the people had rights and privileges as well as -the Priesthood. This was done in a very quiet, unobtrusive way; but it -was, nevertheless, pronounced rebellion and apostasy. My husband’s paper -was silent upon the subject; and, in consequence, he was suspected of -being in league with the enemy. This was another good reason why the -people should be “counselled” not to take the _Telegraph_. Although he -was not yet sufficiently advanced in thought to give much direct aid to -the questioners of Brigham’s authority, I saw with pleasure that he did -not wish to oppose them; the tone of his paper was evidently changing, -and the articles which appeared from time to time gave serious offence -to Brigham Young. This, however, was not all his wrong-doing; he had of -late been neglectful in his attendance at the “School of the Prophets”—a -meeting which was then held every Saturday for the benefit of the Elders. - -Together with the editors of the _Utah Magazine_, Mr. Stenhouse and -one or two others were summoned to appear at the School, to give their -reasons for previous non-attendance. This they had all along anticipated, -and were therefore not surprised at the summons, but they hardly expected -that Brigham would act so precipitately; for, without waiting to hear -their reasons, he disfellowshipped them all for irregular attendance. - -Brigham’s assumption of the right to disfellowship men from the Church -because of irregular attendance at the School was a stretch of authority -which startled my husband: “What will he not do next?” he said. “To -submit would be to acknowledge him absolute, and myself a slave. There is -but one alternative now—slavery or freedom. Cost me what it may, I _will_ -be free!” - -In August of the same year my husband sent a respectful and kindly letter -to the Bishop of our ward, stating that he had no faith in Brigham’s -claim to an “Infallible Priesthood,” and that he considered that he ought -to be cut off from the Church. I added a postscript, stating that I -wished to share my husband’s fate—little thinking that within three days -my request would be answered in a too literal manner. - -A little after ten o’clock on the Saturday night succeeding our -withdrawal from the Church, we were returning home together. The night -was very dark, and as our residence was in the suburbs of the City, north -of the Temple block, and the road very quiet, the walk was a very lonely -one and perhaps not altogether too safe. We had gone about a third of -the way, when we suddenly saw four men come out from under some trees -at a little distance from us. In the gloom of the night we could only -see them very indistinctly, and could not distinguish who they were. -They separated; and two of them came forward and stumbled up against -us, and two passed on beside us. For a moment I thought that they were -intoxicated, but it was soon clear that they were acting from design. -As soon as they approached, they seized hold of my husband’s arms, one -on each side, and held him firmly, thus rendering him almost powerless. -They were all masked, for it was supposed that thus we should not be able -to discover their identity, and that if by any chance an investigation -should subsequently be made into the doings of that night it would not be -possible for any one to witness against them. - -The movements of the two men who held my husband were somewhat impeded by -my clinging to his arm, and they seemed to hesitate for a moment. The -other two, who stood a few feet distant from us, also hesitated. One of -the men who held my husband said to them, “Brethren, do your duty.” We -recognized his voice at once as that of a policeman, Philips, a young man -whom we had known in Southampton, England, when a child. - -In an instant I saw them raise their arms, as if taking aim, and for -one brief second I thought that our end had now surely come, and that -we, like so many obnoxious persons before us, were about to be murdered -for the great sin of Apostasy. This, I firmly believe, would have been -my husband’s fate, if I had not chanced to be with him, or had I run -away—they would probably have beaten him to death—they were two of the -regular and two of the special policemen—and then, the next morning, they -would have “discovered” the body, and it would have been said that he -had been murdered by the Gentiles or Apostates in a personal quarrel. My -presence somewhat disarranged their plans, and it was that probably which -caused the two men to hesitate, not knowing what would be considered -their “duty” under present circumstances. - -A much less noble fate than assassination was reserved for us. The -wretches, although otherwise well armed, were not holding revolvers -in their hands as I first supposed. They were furnished with huge -garden-syringes charged with the most disgusting filth, in the -preparation of which they took especial pains. So kindred to their own -base natures was such an act, that I doubt not they found it quite a -labour of love. The moment the syringes were pointed at us, my husband, -thinking a shot was coming, moved his head, and thus to a certain -extent escaped the full force of the discharge. I, however, was not so -fortunate. My hair, bonnet, face, clothes, person—every inch of my body, -every shred that I wore—were in an instant saturated, from head to foot. - -The villains, when they had perpetrated this disgusting and brutal -outrage, turned and fled. We ran after them for some little distance, -but we had no arms and nothing with which to defend ourselves; in fact, -we pursued them instinctively rather than with any idea of overtaking -them. There was another man standing a little distance off in the -direction in which they were running, and we could not tell how many -might be concealed. The place, too, was dark and lonely, for they had -gone behind the Temple block—a fit corner for murderers to skulk in; a -convenient spot for the commission of any unholy deed. I was burning -with indignation, and longed to revenge myself upon the brutal cowards -who had assaulted us. In my anger I called upon them to come and kill us -outright, for I would have preferred death to such an indignity. I almost -wonder that they did not take me at my word and return and finish their -foul work, for they have long acted upon the principle that “dead men -tell no tales.” - -I shall never forget that night. I declared that henceforth I would -tear from my heart every association, every memory, every affection, -which still remained to bind me to Mormonism; not one solitary link -should be left. Henceforth I would be the declared and open enemy of the -Priesthood. To the utmost of my power—weak though I might be—I would -arouse the women of Utah to a sense of the wrongs which they endured; I -would proclaim to the world the disgrace which Mormonism is to the great -American nation, the foul blot that it is upon Christianity and the -civilization of the age! - -My son-in-law, Joseph A. Young, on the night of the attack, offered a -reward to the chief of the police for the apprehension of the ruffians; -but we knew well enough they would never be discovered. A few Gentile -friends also offered a reward of five hundred dollars for any evidence -that might lead to their identification; but nothing, of course, was -elicited. - - - - -CHAPTER XL. - -AMUSING TROUBLES OF MY TALKATIVE FRIEND—CHARLOTTE WITH THE GOLDEN HAIR! - - -Not long after our separation from the Mormon Church, I received another -visit from my talkative friend. - -As, according to her custom, she was making a preliminary “fuss” at the -door before entering, I heard her voice, and was at a loss to conjecture -whether she came for the purpose of lamenting my apostasy and entreating -my immediate return to the bosom of the Church, or to condole with me -concerning the brutal outrage to which we had been subjected. In both -suppositions I was, however, mistaken—she came to talk about her own woes. - -“You’ll be surprised, my dear Sister Stenhouse,” she said, “to see -me looking so utterly miserable. I’m sure I must look the picture of -despair, and I feel it. You don’t know what I’ve been suffering, and how -shamefully I have been used.” - -“You look very well I think, but I’m sorry to hear you have met with any -difficulty,” said I, when she stopped for a moment to take breath. - -“Oh, you may say so,” she replied, “but you know you don’t think so in -your heart. Why, I did not even stop to put on my bonnet straight,” she -said, stealing a look at the glass, “and I ran all the way here, for I -felt as if I should die if I could not pour my sorrows into the bosom -of some faithful-hearted friend. Oh, I have been treated shamefully, -and I feel it the more as you know what a reserved woman I am, and how -seldom it is that I open my lips about family matters, even to my dearest -friends!” - -“Well, but,” I said, “what really is the matter? You have not yet told me -what your trouble is.” - -“Sister Stenhouse,” she said, “you have had a few little vexations in -the course of your life, I know, but they are nothing to compare to the -frightful indignities that I have suffered in the course of the last few -days. I never thought I should come to this! I hate every man in the -place, and I detest my husband most of all, and I loathe his wives, and I -execrate Brother Brig—” - -“Why, Sister Ann, what can have happened?” I exclaimed, interrupting her. - -“Happened!” she cried, starting from her chair in indignation, “I tell -you, Sister Stenhouse, nothing has ‘_happened_’—nothing was done by -chance—he did it all with his eyes open and against my advice—I tell you -he did it on _purpose_!” - -“Did _what_?” I asked, “and _who_ was it that did it?” But by this time I -had begun to form a shrewd guess _who_ the culprit was. - -“Why, he married that wretched little shrimp of a girl, with blue eyes -and red hair, and a die-away, lackadaisical manner—it was _he_—my husband -Henry—he married her this very day, and I tell you he did it on purpose!” - -“I’m sorry that it annoys you,” I said; “but really I am surprised, -after all you have said to me, that you should not care if he had taken -half-a-dozen wives, to say nothing of the one he married this morning, -and who you say is only a very little one.” - -“It doesn’t matter the size, Sister Stenhouse,” she said, “but the colour -of the eyes and the shade of the hair matters a great deal. If that -miserable little minx had had black hair or green eyes, I daresay Henry -would not have cared two straws about her, unless he had done it out of -sheer perversity, for all men are made of the same contrary stuff. But he -dotes on blue eyes; I heard him myself tell her so one day, when I was -listening to them through the crack of the door, and they didn’t know -I was so near. But my wounded feelings would not suffer me to remain -silent, and I bounced in, and, said I, ‘Henry, how dare you talk such -outrageous nonsense to that child in my presence?’ - -“‘But I didn’t know you were present,’ he said. - -“‘I tell you,’ said I, ‘I’m quite disgusted with you; a man with three -wives—and _me_ one of them—to go talking twaddle to a little chattering -hussy like that, with her cat’s eyes and her red hair!’ - -“‘Golden hair, my dear,’ he said, ‘Charlotte’s hair is golden.’ - -“‘I say _red!_—it’s straight, staring _red_—as red as red can be,’ I -told him; and then we had a regular fight over it. I don’t mean that -we came to blows, but we had some hot words, and he went out and left -us two alone. Then that young hussy was impudent, and I don’t know -how it was, but somehow, when we left off our conversation, I found -some of Charlotte’s red hair between my fingers; and there”—she said, -innocently, holding out quite a respectable sized tuft of auburn -hair—“there; I put it to you, Sister Stenhouse, _is_ that red, or is it -not?” - -I was about to reply; but, without waiting an instant, she dashed the -stolen locks to the ground, and said, “I daresay, Sister Stenhouse, you -think me a little hasty, and yet among my friends I’ve always been quite -proverbial for the calmness and evenness of my temper; but I’ve been -tried very much lately, and—if only you would not keep interrupting me, -dear!—if you’d just allow _me_ to say a word or two in my turn!—I’d tell -you something that would open your eyes to the ingratitude and wickedness -of men. I don’t wonder that you have left the Church; I am thinking of -doing so myself, and you won’t wonder at it when you hear what I’ve got -to say. What do you say to _my_ leaving the Church? Won’t people be -astonished? But I declare, Sister Stenhouse, I _do_ seriously mean to -leave the Church as soon as I get my new bonnet—” - -“Why your new bonnet?” I asked in surprise. - -“Because, dear, I shall become an object of interest. All the sisters -will have their eyes upon me, and even Gentiles will say, ‘There’s a lady -who had courage to leave the Mormon Church and quit an ungrateful husband -who was not worthy of her.’ And you know, Sister Stenhouse, it would not -do to have people looking at me and talking about me before I got my new -bonnet.” - -This was a rather amusing reason for delay in changing one’s religion, -but it was quite characteristic of my friend. So I humoured her a little, -and tried to get her to explain how it all came about. - -“Oh, yes,” she said, “I ought to have told you that before, but I was to -angry at what had just happened that I forgot everything else. The fact -is, my husband is _a man_, and there’s no calculating what a man will do. -Women, you know, are proverbial for the constancy of their affections -and their slowness in changing their minds—you know when you’re talking -to a woman that she _is_ a woman, and you know exactly what to do with -her; but with a man it’s quite different. You can’t calculate a man—you -can’t fathom him. When you’ve been thinking one way and another, and at -last begin to fancy you know what to do, why then, a man—if it’s him -you’ve got to do with—will turn just round, and while you’ve been making -everything smooth for him to do one thing, he’ll go and do exactly the -opposite. I know what men are by this time, and I speak from experience. - -“It was just so with Henry and this girl. He has gone quite against the -grain with me, and I feel it all the more because he used to be so quiet -and anxious to do exactly what I wanted. But he doesn’t care a fig now -whether I’m pleased or not—he only thinks about this red-headed girl. In -fact, he’s quite crazy about her, and if there’s any sin in apostasy, you -may remember that it was he who drove me into it.” - -“That seems hardly fair,” I said, “for you knew all along that it was his -privilege to take more wives.” - -“That’s very true,” she exclaimed; “it _is_ his privilege to take wives, -but it’s _my_ privilege to choose them for him. I’m a good Mormon, and I -don’t mind how many wives my husband takes, if he’ll only act reasonably -about getting them. But, Sister Stenhouse, I do _not_ want a parcel of -girls about the house. I’m so far from wishing to usurp authority, that, -as I told Henry, I would not mind if his wives were even a little older -than me, but I won’t have them younger. It makes Henry look so silly. -Why, to see him with that girl Charlotte, now, who isn’t more than half -my own age—no; I don’t mean that, I mean she’s slightly younger than I -am—you might really almost imagine that he thought more of her than he -does of me. I know he doesn’t, for he has told me so; but any one to see -them together would get quite a wrong impression.” - -“When did he marry Charlotte?” I asked. “You spoke so hastily, Sister -Ann, that I did not quite understand you.” - -“When? Why he married her this morning, as I thought I told you; he has -only just done it. He said he was anxious to be in a quiet state of mind -to-day, so I gave him a piece of _my_ mind, and he was so astonished at -the pointed way in which I explained to him what a fool he’d been making -of himself that he quite showed it in his face. The fact is, Sister -Stenhouse, he has lately become rather more than I could manage.” - -“Well, Sister,” I said, “I should have thought that his finding a wife -for himself would have saved you a world of trouble.” - -“Oh dear no, Sister Stenhouse,” she replied; “it was trouble I did not -want to be saved. Men have no business, in my opinion, to choose their -own wives, after the first. I know the men do do it, one and all; but -it’s a shameful stretch of authority. I should like to know whether it -is not of much more consequence to me what wife my husband has than it -is to him? However, I resolved that my husband should never marry the -red-headed girl, and I told him so; and what do you think the inhuman -creature said? ‘You’ve been persuading me all these years,’ he said, ‘to -take another wife, although I’ve already got three, and now I’ve begun to -do so you blame me. I think I’ve as good a right as any one to say who -I’ll marry and who I won’t.’ Did you ever hear of such ingratitude? Would -you hear of such a thing from _your_ husband, Sister Stenhouse?” - -I told her that with Mormonism my husband had given up Polygamy, and she -continued: - -“Well, I tried to bring him to reason, but it was of no use. And then I -told him that the girl should never set foot inside the house while I was -in it. This was a very unfortunate speech, for I do believe that up to -that time he wanted as much as possible to keep the girl out of my way; -but the moment I said that, to show his dignity, I suppose, he declared -that she should come to tea with us that very afternoon, and he would go -and fetch her; and he did so. I wouldn’t go down to tea at first, though -both the other wives were there and he sent up for me, but my pride would -not allow me to stoop. At last I got tired of being all alone, and as it -occurred to me that perhaps they might be enjoying themselves without me, -I resolved to go down and see if I could not do something to annoy them. -Down I went, and Henry, all smiling, introduced the girl to me as ‘Sister -Charlotte,’ talking of her as if he had known her for years. Was it not -shameful?” - -“It must have been very awkward for you,” I said. - -“It was indeed, Sister Stenhouse, and I soon made it awkward for _them_. -I assure you, after I joined them, there was not a soul present who had a -moment’s comfort till that girl went away. My husband, however, took her -home, and from that very day he seemed resolved to have the upper hand. -He never for a moment would listen to a word I said about the girl; he -brought her in every evening and took her to the theatre constantly, and -paid her ten times more attention than he ever paid me. I wasn’t jealous, -Sister Stenhouse; no one—as I said before—could ever suspect _me_ of -jealousy, but I _did_ hate that girl. If he had not loved her, I can’t -say whether I myself might not have liked her. But the very fact of him -loving her makes me detest her; but it’s only a little proper pride on my -part—I’m not in the least jealous, oh dear no!” - -“Of course not,” I said. - -“I don’t know about that,” she said, “I’ve borne enough from those two -to drive fifty women crazy with jealousy, and things went on from bad -to worse, until the other day when, as I told you, we had that little -unpleasantness. My husband, when he came back, was downright angry, and -made use of shocking language, and told me that, if he could not have -peace in the house, he would have me board out by myself in some other -part of the city. He said that I had scratched Charlotte’s face and torn -out her hair; but that was quite untrue, as I told him; and as for the -hair which fell out, it was all an accident. He said that Charlotte did -not like such accidents, and that he would not put up with it. He was -very cross and disagreeable all the rest of the day, and made me quite -miserable and broken-hearted; and the next day, to wind it all up, he -told me that he and Charlotte had arranged the day of the wedding. I -was forced to go over with him to the Endowment House, to give him that -detestable little vixen. I tell you, Sister Stenhouse, I hate her; and -oh, oh dear, what _shall_ I do now my husband has fallen in love with -her!” - -Here, to my infinite astonishment, she rose from her seat and rushed -about the room, wringing her hands and exclaiming, “Oh dear! oh dear!” -She then threw herself right down on the couch and actually burst into -tears, crying out, “Oh dear, what shall I do with my Henry and that girl!” - -After that I did not see her for several weeks, and then I accidentally -met her in the street, and asked her why she had not called upon me -lately. - -“Oh, Sister Stenhouse,” she said, “I’m delighted to see you! You’ve been -constantly in my thoughts, but I’ve been so hard at work—oh, _so_ busy, -that I really had not time for anything—not even to apostatize. Then, -too, you see I’ve had my hands full. If you want to make a man slight one -woman and get tired of her, there’s nothing like putting a nicer woman -than her in his way. So I reconsidered the matter and resolved, cost what -it might, I’d get another wife for my husband right away. I don’t care -now whether she’s old or young, ugly or pretty, so long as she cuts out -that detestable red-headed girl. I’ve run all over the town and rushed -about here and there, all for his sake, though he’ll never be grateful -for it; and now at last, do you know, dear, I really do think I’ve got -the girl I want. She’s all dark—dark hair, dark eyes, dark complexion. -If he marries her, as I mean him to do, she’ll lead him a fine life, -notwithstanding all her winning ways. I wouldn’t stand in _his_ shoes -when she’s his wife; but I know _I_ shall be able to manage her, for I -have a deeper insight into character than he has, and a better command of -temper. She’ll teach Miss Charlotte to keep her place, and she’ll make -Henry mind too. It’ll do him good; I’ve done it all out of love to him, -not a spark of jealousy or ill-feeling, as you are well aware.” - -The idea of setting one wife against another, in order to keep the peace, -would appear in the case of my talkative friend to have been successful; -for, sure enough, six months after the time of which I have just spoken, -her Henry did marry the dark beauty, and she and her auburn predecessor -presented an interesting contrast when they chanced to appear in the -street together in the company of their husband. There did not seem to be -much love lost between them. - -Successful in her plans, and having, as she said, now brought her Henry -to reason, my talkative friend gave up all idea of leaving the Church, -and when I last saw her she said, “I’m busy now looking after a likely -girl, for I do think a man in my Henry’s position ought to live his -religion and have _at least seven wives_!—seven, you know, is such a very -lucky number.” - - - - -CHAPTER XLI. - -AFTER WE LEFT THE CHURCH—INTERESTING FACTS AND FIGURES—THE MORMONISM AND -MORMONS OF TO-DAY. - - “The world was all before them where to choose - Their place of rest: with Providence their guide, - They hand in hand, with trembling steps and slow, - Through Eden took their solitary way.” - - _Paradise Lost._ - - -When we left the Mormon Church, we were not quite as badly off as were -our first parents when they began life, although in some respects we -certainly resembled them. The world was all before us, and it was -necessary that we also should choose a place of rest; but it was by no -means an Eden from which we were dismissed—or, rather, had dismissed -ourselves—and in the matter of experience in the thorny ways of that -world in which we were about to begin afresh the battle of existence, we -certainly had the advantage over the exiles from Paradise. - -The crisis of our own lives had now arrived. The act of sending in our -resignation as members of the Church cut us off from all the associations -of the past and all the friendships and pleasant intimacies of so many -years. A great gulf divided our by-gone life from the unknown future -which lay before us. - -My husband was now made painfully aware that it was altogether useless -for him to attempt to carry on his paper; for his subscribers, as I -before stated, had been “counselled” to discontinue taking it in. The -_Daily Telegraph_ had had a very large circulation, but as there was very -little money in the Territory, the yearly subscriptions were mostly paid -at harvest time, and many of them in grain. At the time, therefore, when -the paper was finally given up, the Mormon people, as the book-keeper in -Ogden informed me, owed about twenty thousand dollars; but when it was -discovered that we were “Apostates,” the majority of them considered that -they were released from all obligations on that score, and my husband -being an easy, generous-minded man, most of them evaded payment. The idea -that, because we had left the Church, no Saint was bound to pay us any -debts which they might happen at the time to owe, was the natural result -of the teachings of the Tabernacle. Apostates are delivered over to “the -buffetings of Satan,” and the Saints consider it is _their_ duty to begin -in this world their master’s work of castigation. Any ill turn that can -be done to an Apostate is consequently a good action in the opinion of -the Mormons, and they neglect no opportunity of showing that these are -the sentiments which influence them. - -Although we had now left the Mormon Church, never to return, my husband -could not at once shake off entirely that influence which had so long -held him captive. His thoughts and belief, his hopes and ambitions, had -for a quarter of a century all pointed in one direction, and the very -idea of rebellion on his part against the authority of the Priesthood, -would, but a very little while before the time of which I speak, have -been considered by him an utter impossibility. It was impossible, in a -few short months only, to undo the work of five-and-twenty years—the -best years of his life. He could no longer remain in the Church or -conscientiously support Brigham Young; but he had not outgrown Mormonism -sufficiently to enable him to throw off the yoke entirely and make his -paper an opponent of Brigham and his faith. Could he have done so, I -think it is highly probable that the _Telegraph_ might yet have been -saved, for I know that many of the more influential of the Gentiles would -have aided him materially in such a course. As it was, nothing remained -but to give it up with the best grace he could. - -Two offers in reference to the paper were received by Mr. Stenhouse, and -it remained for him to decide which he would accept. One of them came -from a Gentile, who proposed to run it in opposition to Brigham Young, -and the other came from a certain Mr. Fuller, who had for some time been -my husband’s travelling agent, and was a very intimate friend of John W. -Young, Brigham’s youngest son by his first wife. We knew that this Mr. -Fuller had nothing beyond his salary; but, as the friend of Brigham’s -son, we thought that probably it was the Prophet’s wish that he should -have this paper, and we believed that he was simply buying it for the -Church. My husband argued that, although he could no longer unite with -the Mormons, he could at least refrain from doing them any injury; he -therefore concluded that, rather than let the paper go into the hands of -an avowed enemy, he would sell it to Mr. Fuller, who, on account of his -friendship for the Prophet’s family, would, he presumed, try to be just -to the people. - -This, no doubt, was very conscientious and just, although, of course, no -Mormon would give my husband credit for entertaining such sentiments. -For my own part, I naturally wished him to accept the offer that would -pay him best, which was that made by the Gentile. He could not, however, -bring his mind to do this. The paper, therefore, was sold to Mr. Fuller, -who ran it for a few months and then himself ran away, leaving behind -him debts enough to swallow up everything. Thus ended the _Telegraph_ -under that name, but destined, however, to rise again as the _Salt Lake -Herald_—a paper devoted to the interests of Brigham and the Priesthood. -To my husband it was an utter loss, but it was hardly fair that his -conscientious conduct should meet with such an ill return. - -It was now necessary that some steps should be taken to provide for our -family. The reader may, perhaps, remember that when we first arrived -in Salt Lake City, as I stated, I myself engaged in business until -my husband was able to find some suitable and profitable employment. -When the _Telegraph_, however, was established and proved such a great -success, and we were in a position of affluence, I considered—the -pressure of necessity being removed—that I should do well to resign my -own business connection and employ my time more profitably in domestic -affairs. This was a great relief to me, for I always felt considerable -repugnance to mixing with the world in the way of business, while among -my children and attending to their wants and interests I found myself in -my own legitimate sphere. But there was now no alternative. All interest -in the _Telegraph_ had been resigned; my husband’s property had been -wasted in an attempt to keep it up, and he had nothing now to depend -upon. Something must be done, and I resolved that I would not be backward -in bearing my full share of the burden. - -It was only natural that we should feel very much unsettled in mind by -the great change which had taken place in our position, for it is no -easy matter to cut asunder the ties and associations of a lifetime. Any -one suddenly changing his religious faith would, to a certain extent, -feel and understand what I mean in this respect. But in reference to any -ordinary religion, the person forsaking it would probably experience -comparatively little alteration in his every-day life. In Mormonism it -is very different, especially to any one who has occupied a prominent -position among the Saints. To resign our religion was to revolutionize -our lives. Everything was changed: the friends of years would look coldly -on us and avoid us; persons whom we had before shunned as Gentiles or -Apostates would be the only individuals who would regard us with favour; -our entire position in the midst of a most exclusive community was -completely reversed; in a word, we ourselves were now “Apostates!” - -Thinking to turn the current of his thoughts, and believing that change -would be beneficial to him, I suggested to my husband that he should -pay a visit to the Eastern States. In New York I believed he could find -employment which would help to divert his thoughts from Mormon affairs, -and, at the same time, would be profitable to him in other respects. My -suggestion was acted upon, and my husband set out East, while I prepared -to engage again in the same business which I had formerly conducted so -successfully. - -Now, for the first time since I embraced Mormonism, I mixed freely with -Gentiles and those who had left the Church, and it was not long before I -found that this intercourse with the outer world produced a marked and -decided effect upon my mind. My views were enlarged, and my thoughts -became more liberal in their tone. My husband’s letters showed me that a -similar change was taking place in him. - -We were not the only Apostates from the Church at that time. The New -Movement, as the reaction against the tyranny of Brigham Young was -called, was then in progress; and the minds of all intelligent Saints -were led to reflect upon the unheard-of claims of Brigham’s “Infallible” -Priesthood. At this time the Prophet endeavoured to rivet still more -firmly the fetters which bound his deluded followers, by establishing -“Zion’s Co-operative Mercantile Institution” and reviving the “Order of -Enoch.” - -The Co-operative Institution was announced as a joint-stock concern, -established under the pretence that it would be a benefit to the working -classes, and all the members of the Church were invited to purchase -shares, which were sold at twenty-five dollars each. The statement so -often made by Brigham and repeated by strangers, to the effect that -the exorbitant prices charged by Gentile merchants necessitated the -establishment of such an institution was, as every Mormon knows, only a -pretence, and a very shallow one too; for the Walker Brothers and other -merchants had, for many years, supplied goods to Mormons and Gentiles -alike, at what, under the circumstances, were reasonable and just -prices; for the railway not then being constructed, and every article of -commerce being of necessity carried across the Plains—a distance of over -a thousand miles—by horse-teams, prices were, of course, very high, and -would, if this circumstance were not taken into consideration, appear -extortionate. In fact, subsequently, the “Co-operative” stores, which -had started with high rates, under the belief that every rival would be -crushed, were compelled to lower their prices to those of the Walker -Brothers, or, in spite of their faith, the Mormons would have forsaken -Brigham’s Institution for the sake of their pockets. Many, in fact, did -secretly go to Gentile stores, but they were watched by the police and -reported to the teachers. - -That large Mormon store, in which Brigham Young had such a heavy -interest, was to become the parent establishment—the fountain-head -from which temporal blessings, in the shape of cheap goods of every -description, were to flow unto the people. Each Ward was to have its -own store, and there the Saints of that Ward were expected to deal -exclusively, and, as the teachers said, “keep off Main street where the -Gentile stores were located.” These Ward-stores purchased their goods -from the parent store, where nothing was sold by retail. - -All the lesser Mormon merchants were “counselled” to sell out their stock -to the Church, for just what the Church chose to offer them, or dispose -of it otherwise as best they could, and then they might go farming, or on -mission, or anything else; but sell out they must, for they were plainly -told that they would not be allowed to carry on business in opposition to -the new Institution. - -Now, instead of benefiting the poorer Saints, by supplying goods to them -at a small advance upon cost prices, as was at first proclaimed to be -the object of the “Co-op”—as the Institution was briefly and familiarly -called—the reverse was the case, for competition was altogether banished. -All the trade of the Gentile merchants—with one or two exceptions—was -forcibly taken from them, for the people were not to trade in any store -without first looking to see if the sign of the Institution—a picture of -“The All-seeing Eye,” and the words “Holiness unto the Lord” were over -the doorway. How often I have seen groups of country people straggling -along, with their heads thrown back and their eyes straining aloft in -eager quest of that sign, although perhaps their purchases would only -amount to a few yards of ribbon or a paper of pins! - -No one can predict what the Church—otherwise Brigham—will do, if money -should chance to tempt him. In this case, the parent Co-operative store -turned, as I might say, traitor to the Ward-stores—its own children—for -no sooner had they all been established, and had bought up all the old -stock from the parent store, than it was whispered abroad that the -latter was about to open in the retail line with a splendid stock of new -goods—to suit the Gentiles, of course; for the Saints were not allowed -to trade outside of their own Ward-stores, where they were expected to -buy up all the old goods. In fact, in order to gain Gentile trade and -fill the pockets of Brigham and the leading Elders who really constituted -the Institution (and do so still), the same prices were asked at the -parent store as had been charged the poor confiding stock-holders of the -Ward-stores at wholesale. This, of course, caused great dissatisfaction, -and many of the Saints rebelled, declaring they would go where -they pleased to spend their money, when they had any to spend. The -Ward-stores, in consequence, were obliged, at great loss, to lower their -prices, and many were utterly ruined. Others which had more capital tided -over the difficulty, and learned a lesson concerning the honesty of the -Church leaders which it is to be hoped did them good. - -As an example of the way in which matters were managed, I may instance -a very old and infirm woman who was one of their victims. She came to -me one day and said, “Sister Stenhouse, will you buy out my stock in -the Co-operative store? Our store has failed, and I have my twenty-five -dollars’ worth in my basket. I pitied her and asked her to let me see -her stock, and thereupon she brought out _a pound and a half of nails!_ -I _did_ buy out her stock, for I thought that the nails might be handy -to have in the house, although I did not give her twenty-five dollars -for them. Another person—a Frenchman, whom I knew—bought a share, and -when he saw certain ruin looming over his Ward-store, he went to the -head-quarters and purchased twenty-five dollars’ worth of goods, and -having got them all secured, laid down his shareholders’ receipt in -payment and beat a hasty retreat. He was a fortunate man and acted -prudently, but alas! for the poor souls who ventured all their little -savings in these Church “Institutions” and then were left to poverty and -starvation. - -About this time, also, it was that the Mormon women, under the auspices -of Eliza R. Snow and the Female Relief Society, got up a petition to Mrs. -Grant, begging her to use her influence with the President in favour of a -toleration of Polygamy. The names to that petition were affixed without -any reference to propriety or right. Hundreds of names were copied from -the books of the Society without any permission being obtained, or even -asked, of their owners. It was then, as I before stated, that the names -of the dead were actually added as subscribers to the petition; and in -one case, when a lady mentioned that her dead daughter had never belonged -to the Church, as she died before her mother heard of Mormonism, she was -told that her daughter would now, of course, have found out that Polygamy -was the true order of domestic life in heaven, and that she would -certainly be willing to subscribe if she could return to earth. Her name -was, therefore, added without any further ceremony, although she had been -dead a good many years. - -In January, 1872, a counter-petition was got up by the Gentile and -Apostate ladies. It set forth the cruel bondage which Polygamy inflicts -upon women; spoke of the heartless conduct of the Mormon leaders, and -of the murders and other foul crimes which had been committed by them -or at their instigation; showed that, should Utah become a State, under -the name of _Deseret_—which has ever been the ambition of Brigham -Young—there would be no protection for life or property; stated that the -authorities themselves had declared that when statehood was conferred, -Gentiles and Apostates would have good cause to tremble; and, finally, -prayed the National Government to stretch forth its long arm of power -for the defence and protection of honest and law-abiding citizens. This -petition was signed by four hundred and forty ladies of Utah, most of -them members of the Mormon Church, whose _real_ names were all fairly -and openly _affixed by their own selves_. It was presented to the Senate -by the Hon. Schuyler Colfax—then Vice-President; was read, discussed, -and ordered to be printed. As might be supposed, it excited a great -deal of angry discussion on the part of the Church authorities; and the -following Sundays the names of those who had signed were read out in -the Tabernacle, and _strong_ remarks made upon their conduct, in order -to intimidate them and prevent others from following their example. The -consequence was that many of their husbands and sons were threatened with -loss of employment, and they were thus forced to retract. - -That same year a bill was brought into the Territorial Legislature, -providing that _boys of fifteen years of age and girls of twelve -might legally contract marriage_, with the consent of their parents -or guardians! In stating this disgraceful fact, I feel certain that -the reader who has never lived among the Saints, and is not versed in -Utah affairs, will think that I must be mistaken in what I say. It -is, however, I am sorry to say, only too true, and the records of the -Legislature will bear me witness. - -With the exception of the little literary efforts which I have made from -time to time to expose through the press the iniquity of the “Celestial -Order of Marriage,” no event of more than personal and private interest -has, since I left the Mormon Church, interrupted the even tenor of my -life. Last year, however, I was able to deal another blow—weak, it might -be, but still it was a blow—directed at that false system against which I -have sworn eternal enmity. I lectured upon Mormon Polygamy in Washington -and Boston, and other large cities, and attempted in my humble way to -attract the attention of the Gentile world to the iniquities of that -terrible superstition which, in Utah, has degraded womanhood and wrecked -the happiness of thousands of my deluded sisters. I met with sympathy -everywhere; and then, as now, I resolved that efforts like these I would -never relax until, if God spared my life, I should see the last stone in -the fabric of Mormonism overturned and Mormon Polygamy counted among the -sins and follies of the past. - -His literary work accomplished, my husband returned to Salt Lake City. -Looking back over the past, our Missionary life and our faith in -Brighamism seems like a dream, so difficult is it for us to realize that -we ever submitted our souls to the slavery of the Priesthood or placed -any credence in that mass of folly, superstition, and licentiousness, -known as Mormonism. During all his efforts to obey counsel and build -up a “kingdom,” my husband, I know, never ceased to love me. For the -misery which he then, in—as I firmly believe—his conscientious endeavours -to live his religion, inflicted upon me, I have long ago freely and -fully forgiven him. I think that during all that time he never ceased -to entertain the fondest affection for me; and, if he was foolishly -confiding in those who he believed were divinely authorized and speaking -by inspiration, can I blame him when I remember that I myself was -actuated by the same faith? - -It was impossible to obliterate utterly the education and influences -of a whole life’s experience. That wall of partition—Polygamy—which -separated my husband from me for so many years, is now for ever broken -down. But the effects of Mormonism will, no doubt, though unconsciously -to ourselves, tinge the whole of our future life. We can never forget the -past. The mournful sympathy which, according to the poet, the Peri at the -gate of Paradise expressed over the sins and sorrows of humanity, might, -with a slight variation, be applied to our own lives:— - - “‘Poor race of men!’ said the pitying spirit, - ‘Dearly ye pay for your primal fall; - Some traces of Eden ye still inherit, - But the trail of the serpent is over them all.’” - - - - -L’ENVOI. - - -In the preceding pages I have endeavoured to present to the reader the -story of my life’s experience in Mormonism and Polygamy, and to place -before him a truthful picture of the doctrines and practices of the -Saints. - -Two objects influenced my mind when I first proposed to write this -volume. In the first place, I earnestly desired to stir up my Mormon -sisters to a just sense of their own position. I longed to make them -feel, as I do, the cruel degradation, the humiliating tyranny, which -Polygamy inflicts. I wanted to arouse them to a sense of their own -womanhood, and a just appreciation of those rights and duties which, -as women, God has conferred upon them. I was anxious that they should -understand and know the inconsistency and folly of that superstitious -faith by which they have been so egregiously deluded; that they might -learn to hate and loathe the falsely-named “Celestial” system of -marriage; and rising in honest indignation and disgust against the -tyranny of the oppressor, break asunder the yoke of bondage, cast from -them for ever the moral, religious, and social fetters wherewith they are -bound, and, walking in the light of truth, assert their perfect equality -with their sons, their husbands, their fathers, and their brethren, and -henceforth claim and occupy that position which God assigned them, and -which _by right_ is theirs! - -In the second place, I was anxious to enlist for them the sympathy of the -Gentile world. Most strenuous efforts have been made, large sums of money -have been spent, and secret intrigues, as well as open and honourable -negotiations, have been carried on for the purpose of obtaining admission -for Utah into the Union, under the title of _The State of Deseret_. The -name “Deseret” itself is taken from the Book of Mormon, and is said -to signify in the celestial tongue a honey-bee; wherefore it is that -the escutcheon of Utah Territory is a bee-hive; and to grant that name -“Deseret” alone would be a concession to Mormon superstition. Out here -in the Valley of the Great Salt Lake we are perfectly well aware that, -with Utah once admitted as a State, it would be almost impossible for -Gentiles to live peaceably and safely among the Mormons; and of this fact -their leading men and their official organs have repeatedly boasted. With -Utah as a State, the enslavement of the people to the Priesthood would be -complete, and the cruel bondage of Polygamy would be rivetted a thousand -times more firmly upon the unfortunate women. I was anxious, therefore, -to attract the attention of Congress and the nation at large to these -facts; that thus, when Mormon bills and Mormon petitions, replete with -falsified statistics, and perverted, and—in many instances—utterly -untrue, statements are presented to the National Legislature, neither the -representatives of the nation nor the nation itself might be deceived -thereby. These were the two objects which I had proposed to myself in -writing my own experience as a wife and mother among the Mormons, and I -trust to some extent at least I have realized them. - -I send forth this little book with many earnest prayers and many -heartfelt aspirations that my Mormon sisters may be benefited thereby. -Out of the evil which man originates, God alone can produce good; and I -trust that my feeble attempt to portray the cruel wrong which Polygamy -inflicts upon the women of Utah may excite the sympathy of every man -and woman whose influence may avail to hasten that time when this relic -of ancient barbarism may be utterly rooted out before the advancing -civilization of the age. - -The night—the gloomy night of superstition—cannot last for ever. Already -there are signs of the coming dawn. The time, I trust and pray, will -not long be delayed when the veil shall be removed from the eyes of the -enslaved men and women of our modern Zion, and they shall cast aside for -ever the yoke of the Priesthood. I trust that I shall yet live to see the -day when the Mormon wives and mothers shall awake to a sense of their -position and responsibilities, shall understand that God never required -that their womanhood should be degraded, their love crushed out, and -the holiest instincts of their nature perverted; I trust to see them -assert their inalienable rights—their womanly prerogatives—their very -birthright itself; I trust to see them shake off the slavery of that -cruel superstition which has so long held them captive; I trust to see -them take their places side by side with Gentile matrons—the honoured -wives and mothers of the men of Utah; I trust to see that dark shadow -banished from their features, banished from their hearts, banished from -their lives; I trust to see them FREE! - -Full of love for them—my sisters, my friends, the companions of my life -hitherto, whose religion was once my own, whose hopes and joys I have -shared, whose sorrows and trials have been also mine—with hopeful prayer -I lay down my pen and present my labours to the world. And if my humble -efforts shall have conduced, even in the smallest degree, to keep one -sister from entering into this sinful “Order”; if they shall have aroused -the women of Utah to investigate the foundations of their faith, to -calmly and impartially consider the iniquities of the system of Polygamy, -to renounce the man-made slavery of the “Celestial Order”; if I shall be -found to have awakened in the minds of thinking men and women a hatred -for the licentious doctrine which enslaves the wives and daughters of -the Saints; if I have to any extent enlisted active, practical sympathy -in their behalf, I shall feel that my endeavours have been abundantly -rewarded, and that my labours have not been bestowed in vain. - - - - -POSTSCRIPT. - - -The publication of this book has probably contributed more to bring the -terrible realities of Mormon life to the knowledge of the public, and to -hasten their day of judgment, than has any other human agency. - -The officers of justice in Utah were from that time urged to bring the -notorious criminals to justice, but many well-contrived plans for their -arrest failed in the accomplishment. - -Unexpectedly, John D. Lee, the hero of the Mountain Meadows Massacre, -was, while visiting one of his wives, surprised and placed under -confinement in the U.S. Military Fort near Beaver City. - -In the summer of 1875 a lengthy trial ensued, and as there were Mormons -among the jurors, they failed to agree in a verdict. - -Public indignation grew intensely against the system of falsehood -constantly practised by the Mormon jurors, when the Church or any of its -leaders were interested in the courts, and a second trial of John D. Lee -was earnestly demanded. - -During his first trial the Apostle George A. Smith, Brigham’s favourite -and counsellor, who was undoubtedly the instrument through whom Lee and -his associates had been “counselled” to destroy the emigrants, was still -living, and to screen him it was necessary that Lee should escape the -penalty of his crime. - -Between the first and second trials of John D. Lee, Smith died, and -Lee might now confess what he pleased, for the link in the chain of -communication from Brigham Young to the murderers was for ever broken. - -Continually striving to gain the admission of Utah into the Union as -a State, and being always met with a repulse based upon the wholesale -murder crimes in Utah that had gone unpunished, Brigham, having no longer -anything to fear from Lee’s confessions of his (Brigham’s) complicity -in the Mountain Meadows Massacre, resolved to sacrifice Lee to appease -the public clamour; accordingly the testimony from eye-witnesses was -overwhelming, and Lee was condemned by his own Mormon brethren, who for -nearly twenty years had carried in their minds this guilty evidence. - -Lee was sentenced to be executed on the 23rd of March, 1877, and as he -had the choice of the manner of his death, he elected to be shot. The -court so approved, and ordered him to be, on the day named, taken to the -Mountain Meadows, where the great slaughter of the innocent men, women, -and children, had been consummated, to there meet his doom. - -How truthfully I had told the story of this great crime will be seen -in the confession of Lee before his execution; and what a dreadful -commentary that document is on the Mormon Priesthood will be apparent to -every intelligent reader. - -Under the name of a Prophet of Jesus Christ, Brigham Young could rule -with unchallenged sway hundreds of thousands of honest men and women, who -were born of Christian parents, and trained in the civilized customs of -Europe and America! - -It would seem impossible, yet it is within this book revealed to be an -astounding and humiliating fact. - -In the escort conducting Lee to the place of execution there were in all -about eighty persons, one of whom was a photographer, who deemed the -circumstance worthy perpetuation by the unerring camera. From one of -those present I copy the sketch of the ending of John D. Lee. - -It was Friday morning when the party stopped at their destination, and -Lee was immediately ordered to descend from the waggon in which he rode, -which he did without delay. - -Marshal Nelson then read the orders of the court regarding the execution, -and when the reading was concluded, Lee was asked if he had anything to -say. Just at this moment the photographer was arranging his camera to -take a picture of the prisoner. Lee caught sight of him, and pointing -to him said, “I want to see that man,” and added in a louder voice, -addressed to the photographer, “Come over here.” - -Mr. Fennimore, the artist, replied, “In a second, Mr. Lee,” and very soon -after was by the side of Lee, who said,— - -“I want to ask a favour of you, sir; I want you to furnish each of my -three wives with a copy of the photograph—one to Rachel A., Emma B., and -Sarah C.” - -He had had in all eighteen wives; but only the three named remained. -Rachel was the oldest and most faithful to his interests. - -The artist consented to do as he had been requested, and Lee then sat for -his picture, which was successfully taken. Then he arose and, looking -over those standing about, said,— - -“I have but little to say this morning. Of course, I feel that I am upon -the brink of eternity, and the solemnity of eternity should rest upon my -mind at the present moment. I have made out, or endeavoured to do so, a -manuscript and an abridged history of my life. This will be published. -Sir, [turning to District Attorney Howard] I have given my views and -feelings with regard to all these things. I feel resigned to my fate. I -feel as calm as a summer morning. I have done nothing adversely wrong. -My conscience is clear before God and man, and I am ready to meet my -Redeemer. This it is that places me on this field. I am not an infidel; -I have not denied God or His mercy. I am a strong believer in these -things. The most I regret is parting with my family. Many of them are -unprotected, and will be left fatherless. When I speak of those little -ones, they touch a tender chord within me.” - -At this moment his voice trembled, and he perceptibly faltered in his -words. He continued, however, as follows:— - -“I have done nothing designedly wrong in this affair. I used my utmost -endeavours to save those people. I would have given worlds were they -at my command to have avoided that calamity, but I could not. I am -sacrificed to satisfy feelings, and am used to gratify parties; but I am -ready to die. I have no fear of death. It has no terrors for me; and no -particle of mercy have I asked for from court or officials to spare my -life. I do not fear death. I shall never go to a worse place than the one -I am now in. I have said it to my family, and I will say it to-day, that -the Government of the United States sacrifices their best friend, and -that is saying a great deal; but it is true. I am a true believer in the -Gospel of Jesus Christ. I do not believe everything that is now practised -and taught by Brigham Young. I do not agree with him. I believe he is -leading his people astray. But I believe in the gospel as taught in its -purity by Joseph Smith in former days. I have my reasons for saying this. -I used to make this man’s will my pleasure (evidently alluding to Brigham -Young), and did so for thirty years. See how and what I have come to -this day! I have been sacrificed in a cowardly, dastardly manner. There -are thousands of people in the Church—honourable, good-hearted—whom I -cherish in my heart. I regret to leave my family. They are near and dear -to me. These are things to rouse my sympathy. I declare I did nothing -designedly wrong in this unfortunate affair. I did everything in my power -to save all emigrants, but I am the one that must suffer. Having said -this I feel resigned. I ask the Lord, my God, to extend His mercy to me -and receive my spirit. My labours are here done.” - -This ceremony, altogether, had occupied about an hour, and it was now -close upon eleven o’clock. The sun, which had been fitfully bright during -the morning, had become veiled behind a passing cloud, yet the sky was -only partially overcast, as down the horizon were bright streaks of -golden light; and the effect of light and shadow, as portrayed upon the -scene, soon to culminate in the execution of the law, was one that seemed -to be in full harmony with the painful silence that prevailed. Then it -was that the words upon the rude monument, which once had stood to mark -the spot of the massacre, came out with vivid force— - - “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord.” - -The stillness of the occasion was broken by Lee’s seating himself, -according to orders, upon the coffin provided for his burial. He tried -to appear calm as he faced the squad of soldiers whose rifles were -soon to discharge their contents into his body. A Methodist preacher, -Parson Stokes, then knelt beside the coffin and offered a short prayer, -following which a white handkerchief was placed over Lee’s eyes. While -the marshal was arranging the handkerchief, Lee said in a low but firm -tone of voice—“Let them shoot the balls through my heart; don’t let them -mangle my body.” - -He was assured that the aim would be as true as possible, and the marshal -then stepped back and gave his order to the five riflemen who had been -selected to do the work,— - - “READY! AIM! FIRE!” - -The men made ready by raising their weapons to the shoulder, and then -took deliberate aim at the blindfolded man, who was about twenty feet -off, and at the word “fire!” the volley was discharged, with but a single -sound perceptible to the ear, and Lee fell back upon the coffin, dead, -without a cry or even a moan. He was shot through the heart, as he had -hoped to be, and died instantly. The marshal, after a few moments, viewed -the body, and said: “He is quite dead; the law is satisfied at last.” - - - - -CHAPTER XLIV. - -MOUNTAIN MEADOWS MASSACRE—COMPLETE CONFESSION OF BISHOP JOHN D. LEE. - - -In the month of September, 1857, the company of emigrants, known as the -“Arkansas Company,” arrived at Parowan, Iron county, Utah, on their -way to California. At Parowan young Aden, one of the company, saw and -recognized one William Laney, a Mormon resident of Parowan. Aden and his -father had rescued Laney from an anti-Mormon mob in Tennessee several -years before, and saved his life. He (Laney) at the time he was attacked -by the mob was a Mormon missionary in Tennessee. Laney was glad to see -his friend and benefactor, and invited him to his house and gave him some -“garden sauce” to take back to the camp with him. The same evening, it -was reported to Bishop (Colonel) Dame, that Laney had given potatoes and -onions to the man Aden, one of the emigrants. When the report was made -to Bishop Dame, he raised his hand and crooked his little finger in a -significant manner to one Barney Carter, his brother-in-law, and one of -the “Angels of Death.” Carter, without another word, walked out, went to -Laney’s house with a long picket in his hand, called Laney out and struck -him a heavy blow on the head, fracturing his skull, and left him on the -ground for dead. C. Y. Webb and Isaac Naoman, President of the “High -Council,” both told me they saw Dame’s manœuvres. James McGuffee, then -a resident of Parowan, but through oppression has been forced to leave -there and is now a merchant in Pahranagat Valley, near Pioche, Nev., -knows these facts. About the last of August, 1857, some ten days before -the Mountain Meadows Massacre, the company of emigrants passed through -Cedar City. George A. Smith, then first counsellor in the Church and -Brigham Young’s right-hand man, came down from Salt Lake City, preaching -to the different settlements. I at that time was in Washington county, -near where St. George now stands. He sent for me. I went to him and -he asked me to take him to Cedar City by way of Fort Clara and Pinto -settlements, as he was on business and must visit all the settlements. We -started on our way up through the canyon. We saw herds of Indians, and he -(George A. Smith) remarked to me that these Indians, with the advantages -they had of the rocks, could use up a large company of emigrants, or -make it very hot for them. After pausing for a short time he said to me, -“Brother Lee, what do you think the brethren would do if a company of -emigrants should come down through here making threats? Don’t you think -they would pitch into them?” I replied that “they certainly would.” This -seemed to please him, and he again said to me, “And you really think the -brethren would pitch into them?” “I certainly do,” was my reply, “and -you had better instruct Colonel Dame and Haight to tend to it that the -emigrants are permitted to pass, if you want them to pass unmolested.” -He continued, “I asked Isaac (meaning Haight) the same question, and he -answered me just as you do, and I expect the boys would pitch into them.” -I again said to him that he had better say to Gov. Young that if he wants -emigrant companies to pass without molestation that he must instruct -Col. Dame or Major Haight to that effect; for if they are not ordered -otherwise they will use them up by the help of the Indians. He told the -people at the Clara not to sell their grain to the emigrants, nor to feed -it to their animals, as they might expect a big fight the next spring -with the United States. President Young did not intend to let the troops -into the territory. He said: “We are going to stand up for our rights, -and will no longer be imposed upon by our enemies, and want every man to -be on hand with his gun in good order and his powder dry,” and instructed -the people to part with nothing that would sustain life. From the 1st -to the 10th of September, 1857, a messenger came to me—his name was Sam -Wood—and told me that President Isaac C. Haight wanted me to be at Cedar -City that evening without fail. This was Saturday. He told me that a -large company of emigrants had gone south. I think he lived at Harmony, -twenty miles south of Cedar City. - -I obeyed the summons. President Haight met me. It was near sundown. We -spent the night in an open house on some blankets, where we talked most -all night. He told me that a company of emigrants had passed through -some two days before, threatening the Mormons with destruction, and -that one of them had said he had helped to kill old Joe Smith and his -brother Hyrum, that other members of the company of emigrants had helped -drive the Mormons out of Missouri; that others had said they had come -to help Johnson’s army clean the Mormons out of Utah; that they had the -halters ready to hang old Brigham and Heber, and would have them strung -up before the snow flew; that one of the emigrants called one of his -oxen (a pair of stags) “Brig.” and the other “Heber;” and that several -of the emigrants had used all kinds of threats and profanity. John M. -Higbee, the City Marshal, had informed them that it was a breach of the -city ordinance to use profane language, whereupon one of them replied -that he did not care a —— for the Mormon laws or the Mormons either; -that they had fought their way through the Indians, and would do it -through the —— Mormons; and if their god, old Brigham, and his priests -would not sell their provisions, by —— they would take what they wanted -any way they could get it; that thus enraged, one of them let loose his -long whip and killed two chickens, and threw them into the waggon; that -the widow Evans said, “Gentlemen, those are my chickens; please don’t -kill them; I am a poor widow;” that they ordered her to “shut up,” or -they would blow her —— brains out, etc.; that they had been raising -trouble with all the settlements and Indians on their way; that we were -threatened on the North by Johnson’s army; that now our safety depended -on prompt and immediate action; that a company of Indians had already -gone South from Parowan and Cedar City to surprise the emigrants, who -were then at the Mountain Meadows, and he wanted me to return home in -the morning (Sunday), and send Carl Schurtz (Indian interpreter) from -my home (Harmony), to raise the Indians South, at Harmony, Washington, -and Santa Clara, to join the Indians from the North and make the attack -upon the emigrants at the Meadows. I said to him, “Would it not be well -to hold a council of the brethren before making a move?” He replied that -“every true Latter-Day Saint that regarded their covenants knew well -their duty, and that the company of emigrants had forfeited their lives -by their acts,” and that Bishop P. K. Smith (Klingensmith) and Joel White -had already gone by way of Pinto, to raise the Indians in that direction, -and those that had gone from Parowan and here would make the attack, and -might be repulsed. “We can’t now delay for a council of the brethren. -Return immediately, and start Carl Schurtz; tell him that I ordered you -to tell him to go; and I want you to try and get there before the attack -is made, and make the plan for the Indians, and will send Nephi Johnson, -the interpreter, to the Meadows as soon as he can be got to help Carl -Schurtz manage the Indians.” I did just as I was ordered. The Indians -from the North and about Harmony had already started for the Meadows -before I reached home. Schurtz started immediately to do his part. - -I arrived at home in the night, and remained till morning. I thought -over the matter, and the more I thought the more my feelings revolted -against such a horrid deed. Sleep had fled from me. I talked to my wife -Rachel about it. She felt as I did about it, and advised me to let them -do their own dirty work, and said that if things did not go just to -suit them the blame would be laid on me. She never did believe in blood -atonement, and said it was from the devil, and that she would rather -break such a covenant, if she had to die for so doing, than to live and -be guilty of doing such an act. I finally concluded that I would go; that -I would start by daybreak in the morning, and try to get there before an -attack was made on the company, and use my influence with the Indians -to let them alone. I crossed the mountains by a trail, and reached the -Meadows between nine and ten in the morning, the distance from my place -being about twenty-five miles. But I was too late. The attack had been -made just before daybreak in the morning, the Indians repulsed, with one -killed and two of their chiefs from Cedar City shot through the legs, -breaking a leg for each of them. The Indians were in a terrible rage. I -went to some of them that were in a ravine. They told me to go to the -main body, or they would kill me for not coming before the attack was -made. While I was standing there I received a shot just above the belt, -cutting through my clothes to the skin, some six inches across. The -Indians with whom I was talking lived with me at Harmony. I was Indian -Farmer. They told me I was in danger, and to get down into the ravine. -I said that it was impossible for me to do anything there, and I dare -not venture to the camp of the emigrants without endangering my life. -I mounted my horse and started south to meet Carl Schurtz. I travelled -sixteen miles and stopped on the Megotsy to bait my animal, as there -was good grass and water. I had rode over forty miles without eating or -drinking. This is the place where Mr. Tobin met his assassinators. About -sunset I saw Schurtz and some ten or fifteen white men and about one -hundred and fifty Indians. We camped. - -During the night the Indians left for the Meadows. I reported to the men -what had taken place. They attacked the emigrants again, about sunrise -the next morning, which was Tuesday, and had one of their number killed -and several wounded. I, with the white men, reached the Meadows about one -o’clock p.m. On the way we met a small band of Indians returning, with -some eighteen or twenty head of cattle. One of the Indians was wounded -in the shoulder. They told me that the Indians were encamped east of the -emigrants, at some springs. On our arrival at the springs we found some -two hundred Indians, among whom were the two wounded chiefs, Moqueetus -and Bill. The Indians were in a high state of excitement; had killed many -cattle and horses belonging to the company. I counted sixty head near -their encampment, that they had killed in revenge for the wounding of -their men. By the assistance of Oscar Hamblin (brother of Jacob Hamblin) -and Schurtz, we succeeded in getting the Indians to desist from killing -any more stock that night. The company of emigrants had corraled all -their waggons but one for better defence. This corral was about one -hundred yards above the springs. This they did to get away from the -ravine and from the rocks on the west. The attack was renewed that night -by the Indians, in spite of all we could do to prevent it. - -When the attack commenced, Oscar Hamblin, William Young, and myself -started to go to the Indians. When opposite the corral, on the north, -the bullets came around us like a shower of hail. We had two Indians -with us to pilot us; they threw themselves flat on the ground to protect -themselves from the bullets. I stood erect and asked my Father in heaven -to protect me from the missiles of death, and enable me to reach the -Indians. One ball passed through my hat and the hair of my head, and -another through my shirt, grazing my arm near the shoulder. A most -hideous yell of the Indians commenced. The cries and shrieks of the -women and children so overcame me that I forgot my danger and rushed -through the fire to the Indians, and pleaded with them, in tears, to -desist. I told them that the Great Spirit would be angry with them for -killing women and little children. They told me to leave or they would -serve me the same way, and that I was not their friend, but a friend -of their enemies; that I was a squaw, and did not have the heart of a -brave, and that I could not see blood shed without crying like a baby, -and called me cry-baby, and by that name I am known by all the Indians -to this day. I owe my life on that occasion to Oscar Hamblin, who was a -missionary with the Indians, and had much influence with the Santa Clara -Indians. They were the ones that wanted to kill me. Hamblin shamed them, -and called them dogs and wolves for wanting to shed the blood of their -father (myself), who had fed and clothed them. We finally prevailed on -them to return to camp, where we would hold a council; that I would send -for big Captains to come and talk. We told them that they had punished -the emigrants enough, and may be they had killed nearly all of them. We -told them that Bishop Dame and President Haight would come, and may be -they would give them part of the cattle, and let the company go with the -teams. In this way we reconciled them to suspend hostilities for the -present. The two that had been with Hamblin and myself the night before -said they had seen two men on horseback come out of the emigrant’s camp -under full speed, and that they went toward Cedar City. - -Wednesday morning I asked a man—I think his name was Edwards—to go to -Cedar City and say to President Haight, for God’s sake, for my sake, -and for the sake of suffering humanity, to send out men to rescue that -company. This day we all lay still, waiting orders. Occasionally a few -of the Indians withdrew, taking a few head of animals with them. About -noon I crossed the valley north of the corral, thinking to examine their -location from the west range. The company recognized me as a white man, -and sent two little boys, about four years old, to meet me. I hid from -them, fearing the Indians, who discovered the children. I called the -Indians, who wanted my gun or ammunition to kill them. I prevailed with -them to let the children go back to camp, which they very soon did when -they saw the Indians. I crept up behind some rock, on the west range, -where I had a full view of the corral. In it they had dug a rifle-pit. -The wheels of their waggons were chained together, and the only chance -for the Indians was to starve them out, or shoot them as they went for -water. I lay there some two hours, and contemplated their situation, -and wept like a child. When I returned to camp, some six or eight men -had come from Cedar City. Joel White, William C. Stewart, and Elliot C. -Weldon, were among the number, but they had no orders. They had come -merely to see how things were. The Meadows are about fifty miles from -Cedar City. Thursday afternoon the messenger from Cedar City returned. He -said that President Haight had gone to Parowan to confer with Col. Dame, -and a company of men and orders would be sent on to-morrow (Friday); -that up to the time he had left, the council had come to no definite -conclusion. During this time the Indians and men were engaged in broiling -beef and making up their hides into lassos. I had flattered myself that -bloodshed was at an end. After the emigrants saw me cross the valley, -they hoisted a white flag in the midst of their corral. - -Friday afternoon four waggons drove up with armed men. When they saw the -white flag in the corral, they raised one also, but drove to the springs -where we were, and took refreshment, after which a council meeting was -called of Presidents, Bishops, and other Church officers and members -of the High Council, societies, High Priests, &c. Major John M. Higbee -presided as chairman. Several of the dignitaries bowed in prayer, invoked -the aid of the Holy Spirit to prepare their minds, and guide them to do -right, and carry out the counsels of their leaders. Higbee said that -“President J. C. Haight had been to Parowan to confer with Col. Dame and -their counsel, and orders were that, this emigrant camp must be used -up.” I replied, “Men, women, and children?” “All,” said he, “except such -as are too young to tell tales; and if the Indians cannot do it without -help, we must help them.” I commenced pleading for the company, and I -said, though some of them have behaved badly, they have been pretty well -chastised. My policy would be to draw off the Indians, let them have a -portion of the loose cattle, and withdraw with them, under promise that -they would not molest the company any more; that the company would then -have teams enough left to take them to California. I told them that this -course could not bring them into trouble. Higbee said, “White men have -interposed, and the emigrants know it, and there lies the danger in -letting them go.” I said, “What white man interfered?” He replied that in -the attack on Tuesday night two men broke out of the corral and started -for Cedar City on horseback; that they were met at Richey’s Spring by -Stewart, Joel White, and another man, whose name has passed from me. -Stewart asked the two men their names when they met at the spring, and -being told in reply by one of the men that his name was Aden, and that -the other was a Dutchman from the emigrant’s company, Stewart shoved a -pistol to Aden’s breast, and killed him, saying, “Take that, —— you.” -The other man (the Dutchman) wheeled to leave as Joel White fired and -wounded him. I asked him how he knew the wounded Dutchman got back to -the emigrants’ camp. He said because he was tracked back, and they knew -he was there. I again said that it was better to deliver the man to them, -and let them do anything they wished with them, and tell them that we did -not approve such things. Ira Allen, high councillor, and Robert Wiley, -and others, spoke, reproving me sharply for trying to dictate to the -priesthood; that it would set at naught all authority; that he would not -give the life of one of our brethren for a thousand such persons. “If we -let them go,” he continued, “they will raise hell in California, and the -result will be that our wives and children will have to be butchered, -and ourselves too, and they are no better to die than ours, and I am -surprised to hear Brother Lee talk as he does, as he, who has always been -considered one of the staunchest in the Church, now is the first to shirk -from his duty.” I said, “Brethren, the Lord must harden my heart before -I can do such a thing.” Allen said, “It is not wicked to obey counsel.” -At this juncture I withdrew, walked off some fifty paces, and prostrated -myself on the ground and wept in the bitter anguish of my soul, and asked -the Lord to avert that evil. - -While in that situation Councillor C. Hopkins, a near friend of mine, -came to me and said, “Brother Lee, come, get up, and don’t draw off -from the priesthood. You ought not to do so. You are only endangering -your own life by standing out. You can’t help it, if this is wrong; the -blame won’t rest on you.” I said, “Charley, this is the worst move this -people ever made; I feel it.” He said, “Come, go back, and let them have -their way.” I went back, weeping like a child, and took my place, and -tried to be silent, and was until Higbee said, they (the emigrants) must -be decoyed out through pretended friendship. I could no longer hold my -peace, and said I, “Joseph Smith said that God hated a traitor, and so -do I: before I would be a traitor, I would rather take ten men, and go -to that camp and tell them they must die, and now to defend themselves, -and give them a show for their lives; that would be more honourable -than to betray them like Judas.” Here I got another reproof, and was -ordered to hold my peace. The plan agreed upon there was to meet them -with a flag of truce, tell them that the Indians were determined on their -destruction; that we dare not oppose the Indians, for we were at their -mercy; that the best we could do for them (the emigrants) was to get -them and what few traps we could take in the waggons, to lay their arms -in the bottom of the waggon and cover them up with bed-clothes, and -start for the settlement as soon as possible, and to trust themselves -in our hands. The small children and wounded were to go with the two -waggons, the women to follow the waggons, and the men next, the troops to -stand in readiness on the east side of the road ready to receive them. -Schurtz and Nephi Johnson were to conceal the Indians in the brush and -rocks till the company was strung out on the road to a certain point, -and at the watchword, “Halt; do your duty!” each man was to cover his -victim and fire. Johnson and Schurtz were to rally the Indians, and rush -upon and despatch the women and larger children. It was further told -the men that President Haight said, if we were united in carrying out -the instructions, we would all receive “celestial reward.” I said I was -willing to put up with a less reward if I could be excused. “How can you -do this without shedding innocent blood?” Here I got another lampooning -for my stubbornness and disobedience to the priesthood. I was told that -there was not a drop of innocent blood in the whole company of emigrants. -Also referred to the Gentile nations who refused the children of Israel -passage through their country when Moses led them out of Egypt—that -the Lord held that crime against them, and when Israel waxed strong -the Lord commanded Joshua to slay the whole nation, men, women, and -children. “Have not these people done worse than that to us? Have they -not threatened to murder our leaders and prophets, and have they not -boasted of murdering our patriarchs and prophets, Joseph and Hyrum? Now -talk about shedding innocent blood.” They said I was a good, liberal, -free-hearted man, but too much of this sympathy would be always in the -way; that every man now had to show his colours; that it was not safe -to have a Judas in camp. Then it was proposed that every man express -himself; that if there was a man who would not keep a close mouth, they -wanted to know it then. This gave me to understand what I might expect -if I continued to oppose. Major Higbee said, “Brother Lee is right. Let -him take an expression of the people.” I knew I dared not refuse; so I -had every man speak and express himself. All said they were willing to -carry out the counsel of their leaders; that the leaders had the spirit -of God, and knew better what was right than they did. They then wanted to -know my feelings. I replied, I have already expressed them. Every eye was -upon me as I paused; “but,” said I, “you can do as you please; I will not -oppose you any longer.” “Will you keep a close mouth?” was the question. -“I will try,” was my answer. I will here say that the fear of offending -Brigham Young and George A. Smith had saved my life. I was near being -“blood-atoned” in Parowan, under J. C. L. Smith, in 1854, but on this I -have spoken in my autobiography. - -Saturday morning all was ready, and every man assigned to his post of -duty. During the night, or rather just before daylight, Johnson and -Schurtz ambushed their Indians, the better to deceive the emigrants. -About 11 o’clock a.m. the troops under Major Higbee took their position -on the road. The white flag was still kept up in the corral. Higbee -called William Bateman out of the ranks to take a flag of truce to the -corral. He was met about half way with another white flag from the -emigrants’ camp. They had a talk. The emigrant was told we had come to -rescue them if they would trust us. Both men with flags returned to -their respective places and reported, and were to meet again and bring -word. Higbee called me out to go and inform them the conditions, and if -accepted, Dan McFarland, brother to John McFarland, lawyer, who acted -as aid-de-camp, would bring back word, and then the waggons would be -sent for the firearms, children, clothing, etc. I obeyed, and the terms -proposed were accepted, but not without distrust. I had as little to say -as possible; in fact, my tongue refused to perform its office. I sat down -on the ground in the corral, near where some young men were engaged in -paying their last respects to some person who had just died of a wound. -A large fleshy old lady came to me twice, and talked while I sat there. -She related their troubles; said that seven of their number were killed, -and forty-seven wounded on the first attack; that several had died since. -She asked me if I were an Indian agent. I said, “In one sense I am, as -Government has appointed me farmer to the Indians.” I told her this to -satisfy her. I heard afterwards that the same question was asked and -answered in the same manner by McFarland, who had been sent by Higbee to -the corral to “hurry me up, for fear that the Indians would come back and -be upon them.” - -When all was ready, Samuel McMurdy, counsel to Bishop P. K. Smith -(Klingensmith), drove out on the lead. His waggon had the seventeen -children, clothing, and arms. Samuel Knight drove the other team, with -five wounded men and one boy about fifteen years old. I walked behind the -front waggon to direct the course, and to shun being in the heat of the -slaughter; but this I kept to myself. When we got turned fairly to the -east, I motioned to McMurdy to steer north, across the valley. I, at the -same time, told the women, who were next to the waggon, to follow the -road up to the troop, which they did. Instead of saying to McMurdy not to -drive so fast (as he swore on my trial), I said to the contrary, to drive -on, as my aim was to get out of sight before the firing commenced, which -we did. We were about half a mile ahead of the company when we heard the -first firing. We drove over a ridge of rolling ground, and down on a -low flat. The firing was simultaneous along the whole line. The moment -the firing commenced McMurdy halted and tied his lines across the rod -of the waggon-box, stepped down coolly with double-barrelled shot-gun, -walked back to Knight’s waggon, who had the wounded men, and was about -twenty feet in the rear. As he raised his piece, he said, “Lord, my God, -receive their spirits, for it is for the kingdom of heaven’s sake that we -do this,” fired and killed two men. Samuel Knight had a muzzle-loading -rifle, and he shot and killed the three men, then struck the wounded boy -on the head, who fell dead. In the meantime I drew a five-shooter from -my belt, which accidentally went off, cutting across McMurdy’s buskin -pantaloons in front, below the crotch. McMurdy said, “Brother Lee, you -are excited; take things cool; you was near killin’ me. Look where the -bullet cut,” pointing to the place in his pantaloons. At this moment I -heard the scream of a child. I looked up and saw an Indian have a little -boy by the hair of his head, dragging him out of the hind end of the -waggon, with a knife in his hand, getting ready to cut his throat. I -sprang for the Indian with my revolver in hand, and shouted to the top -of my voice, “Arick, oomo, cot too sooet” (stop, you fool!). The child -was terror-stricken. His chin was bleeding. I supposed it was the cut -of a knife, but afterwards learned that it was done on the waggon-box, -as the Indian yanked the boy down by the hair of the head. I had no -sooner rescued this child than another Indian seized a little girl by -the hair. I rescued her as soon as I could speak; I told the Indians -that they must not hurt the children—that I would die before they should -be hurt; that we would buy the children of them. Before this time the -Indians had rushed around the waggon in quest of blood, and despatched -the two runaway wounded men. In justice to my statement I would say -that if my shooter had not prematurely exploded, I would have had a -hand in despatching the five wounded. I had lost control of myself, and -scarce knew what I was about. I saw an Indian pursue a little girl who -was fleeing. He caught her about one hundred feet from the waggon, and -plunged his knife through her. I said to McMurdy that he had better drive -the children to Hamblin’s ranch, and give them some nourishment, while I -would go down and get my horse at the camp. Passing along the road I saw -the dead strung along the distance of about half a mile. The women and -children were killed by the Indians. I saw Schurtz with the Indians, and -no other white man with them. When I came to the men, they lay about a -rod apart. Here I came up with Higbee, Bishop Smith, and the rest of the -company. - -As I came up, Higbee said to me, “Let us search these persons for -valuables,” and asked me to assist him; gave me a hat to hold. Several -men were already engaged in searching the bodies. I replied that I was -unwell, and wanted to get upon my horse and go to the ranch and nurse -myself. My request was granted. Reaching Hamblin’s ranch—being heartsick -and worn out—I lay down on my saddle-blanket and slept, and knew but -little of what passed during the night. - -About daybreak in the morning, I heard the voices of Col. Dame and Isaac -C. Haight. I heard some very angry words pass between them, which drew -my attention. Dame said he would have to report the destruction of the -emigrant camp and company. Haight said, “How, as an Indian massacre?” -Dame said he did not know so well about that. This reply seemed to -irritate Haight, who spoke quite loudly, saying, “How the —— can you -report it any other way without implicating yourself?” At this Dame -lowered his voice almost to a whisper; I could not understand what he -said, and the conversation stopped. - -I got up, saw the children, and among the others the boy who was pulled -by the hair of his head out of the waggon by the Indian and saved by me; -that boy I took home and kept until Dr. Forney, Government agent, came -to gather up the children and take them East; he took the boy with the -others; that boy’s name was William Fancher; his father was captain of -the train; he was taken East and adopted by a man in Nebraska, named -Richard Sloan; he remained East several years, and then returned to Utah, -and is now a convict in the Utah Penitentiary, having been convicted the -past year for the crime of highway robbery. He is now known by the name -of “Idaho Bill,” but his true name is William Fancher. His little sister -was also taken East, and is now the wife of a man working for the Union -Pacific Railroad Company, near Green River. The boy (now man) has yet got -the scar on his chin caused by the cut on the waggon-box, and those who -are curious enough to examine will find a large scar on the ball of his -left foot, caused by a deep cut made by an axe while he was with me. - -I got breakfast that morning. Then all hands returned to the scene of -the slaughter to bury the dead. The bodies were all in a nude state. -The Indians, through the night, had stripped them of every vestige of -clothing. Many of the parties were laughing and talking as they carried -the bodies to the ravine for burial. They were just covered over a -little, but did not long remain so; for the wolves dug them up, and, -after eating the flesh from them, the bones laid upon the ground until -buried, some time after, by a Government military officer. At the time of -burying the bodies Dame and Haight got into another quarrel. Dame seemed -to be terror-stricken, and again said he would have to publish it. They -were about two paces from me. Dame spoke low, as if careful to avoid -being heard. Haight spoke loud, and said, “You know that you counselled -it, and ordered me to have them used up.” Dame said, “I did not think -that there were so many women and children. I thought they were nearly -all killed by the Indians.” Haight said, “It is too late in the day for -you to back water. You know you ordered and counselled it, and now you -want to back out.” Dame said, “Have you the papers for that?” or “Show -the papers for that.” This enraged Haight to the highest pitch, and Dame -walked off. Haight said, “You throw the blame of this thing on me, and -I will be revenged upon you, if I have to meet you in hell to get it.” -From this place we rode to the waggons; we found them stripped of their -covers and every particle of clothing, even the feather beds had been -ripped open and the contents turned upon the ground, looking for plunder. -I crossed the mountains by an Indian trail, taking my little Indian boy -with me on my horse. The gathering up of the property and cattle was left -in the charge of Bishop P. K. Smith. The testimony of Smith in regard to -the property and the disposition of it was very nearly correct. - -I must not forget to state, that after the attack a messenger by the -name of James Haslem was sent with a despatch to President Brigham -Young, asking his advice about interfering with the company, but he did -not return in time. This I had no knowledge of until the massacre was -committed. Some two weeks after the deed was done, Isaac C. Haight sent -me to report to Governor Young in person. I asked him why he did not send -a written report. He replied that I could tell him more satisfactorily -than he could write, and if I would stand up and shoulder as much of the -responsibility as I could conveniently, that it would be a feather in -my cap some day, and that I would get a celestial salvation, but that -the man who shrank from it now would go to hell. I went and did as I was -commanded. Brigham asked me if Isaac C. Haight had written a letter to -him. I replied, not by me, but I said he wished me to report in person. -“All right,” said Brigham; “were you an eye-witness?” “To the most of -it,” was my reply. Then I proceeded and gave him a full history of all -except that of my opposition. That I left out entirely. I told him of -the killing of the women and children, and the betraying of the company. -That, I told him, I was opposed to, but I did not say to him to what -extent I was opposed to it, only that I was opposed to shedding innocent -blood. “Why,” said he, “you differ from Isaac (Haight), for he said -there was not a drop of innocent blood in the whole company.” When I was -through, he said that it was awful; that he cared nothing about the men, -but the women and children was what troubled him. I said, “President -Young, you should either release men from their obligation or sustain -them when they do what they have entered into the most sacred obligations -to do.” He replied, “I will think over the matter, and make it a subject -of prayer, and you may come back in the morning and see me.” I did so, -and he said, “John, I feel first-rate; I asked the Lord if it was all -right for that deed to be done, to take away the vision of the deed from -my mind, and the Lord did so, and I feel first-rate. It is all right. -The only fear I have is of traitors.” He told me never to lisp it to -any mortal being, not even to Brother Heber. President Young has always -treated me with the friendship of a father since, and has sealed several -women to me since, and has made my house his home when in that part of -the territory, until danger has threatened him. This is a true statement -according to the best of my recollection. - - JOHN D. LEE. - - - - -KILLING A RIVAL PROPHET. - - -Enough has been already written to satisfy all with whom facts have any -weight that the Mormonism which claims in Europe to be “of Christ,” is in -Utah a despotism of the harshest character, allied to falsehood, murder, -and the worst of crimes that degrade human nature. And here would I rest -my pen; but it seems that one other episode in Utah life should still be -added, showing as it does the intolerance of the ruling Mormon Priesthood -when their own sway is challenged. - -Thirty-five miles north of Salt Lake City—a short distance from where -the Union Pacific debouches from Weber Canyon—a Welchman named Joseph -Morris had found eager listeners to new revelations. The Bishop of -Kington Fort, Richard Cook, formerly a noted Missionary in Manchester, -England, and a number of intelligent men and women, received gladly the -new prophet who had been raised up by “the Lord” to “deliver Israel -from bondage.” Numerous believers in a very short time gathered from -various parts of the territory, and Kington fort, on the Weber, became an -important place. Morris abounded with revelations. His “gifts” exceeded -in profusion those of all who had ever gone before him. The founder of -Mormonism was nothing in comparison with his disciple from Wales. The -adherents of the new prophet were perfectly overjoyed at the abundance -of light that now shone upon their path, and some very intelligent men -gathered to the Weber. Three English and three Danish clerks were daily -employed in writing the heavenly communications from the mouth of the -new prophet. Brigham had been barren—Morris was overflowing. The new -disciples “consecrated” all they possessed to a common fund. Christ -was seen to descend among them, and their wants would only be of short -duration. As “the Lord” tarried, the enthusiasm of some of the converts -cooled, and here began the difficulty with the new prophet. It became -a question how much of their property they could reclaim. It had all -been “consecrated.” The leading men of the sect decided to let them -peacefully retire; but it was expected that they would honestly meet -their accrued share of the obligations of the little colony. Some of them -proved dishonest, and attempted to take away better cattle than they had -brought, and they refused to make allowance for the support they had -derived from the property of others. A feud arose, the dissenters applied -to the Mormon Courts, and the latter were pleased with the opportunity -afforded. Writs were issued, served and repulsed. The dissenters waited -for the chance of seizing the moveable property of the colony, and as -wheat was sent to mill they pounced upon it, and took teams and waggons -as well. On one occasion the Morrisites arose early in the morning, and -spread themselves over the country, keeping within view of the advancing -teams. As the dissenter and two others pounced upon the convoy the second -time, up sprang the Morrisites from places of concealment, and took them -prisoners. They were taken to Kington Fort and imprisoned. The friends of -the captured men sought their release ineffectually, for the Sheriff in -that country could do nothing. One or two of the wives of the prisoners -went to Brigham, but he refused to interfere. He was too shrewd to meddle -directly in the affair. Justice Kinney was next visited. As judge of that -judicial district a petition was filed before him, setting forth that -these men were kept in close confinement and heavily ironed by order of -Joseph Morris, John Banks, and Richard Cook. On the 24th of May, 1862, -a writ of habeas corpus was issued to the Territorial Marshal, and by -his deputy served, but no attention was paid to it. On the 11th of June -a second writ was issued and was also disregarded. Kinney was intensely -indignant, and insisted upon the militia being called out as a posse -comitatus to accompany the Territorial Marshal. Acting Governor Fuller -issued the necessary order. The Morrisites had been warned by the “Lord” -that the “Brighamites” were plotting their destruction, and accordingly -purchased all the rifles and ammunition possible. Early on the morning of -the 13th of June an armed posse were seen on South Mountain overlooking -the Morrisite community, and the following proclamation was sent to the -Morrisites by one of their herd-boys: - - Head-quarters, Marshal’s Posse, Weber River, - June 13, 1862. - - _To Joseph Morris, John Banks, Richard Cook, John Parsons, and - Peter Klemgard_: - - Whereas you have heretofore disregarded and defied the - judicial officers and laws of the Territory of Utah: and - whereas certain writs have been issued for you from the Third - Judicial District Court of said Territory, and a sufficient - force furnished by the executive of the same to enforce - the laws. This is therefore to notify you to peaceably and - quietly surrender yourselves and the prisoners in your - custody forthwith. An answer is required in thirty minutes - after the receipt of this document; if not, forcible measures - will be taken for your arrest. Should you disregard this - proposition and place your lives in jeopardy, you are hereby - required to remove your women and children: and all persons - peaceably disposed are hereby notified to forthwith leave your - encampment, and are informed that they can find protection with - this posse. - - H. W. LAWRENCE, - _Territorial Marshal_. - - Per R. T. Burton and Theodore McKean, deputies. - -A gentleman who was then in the Morrisites camp has furnished the -author with the following statement:—Morris, a firm believer in the -revelations he received, remarked, in answer to the inquiry “What shall -be done?” that he would “go and inquire of the Lord.” He was soon heard -in solemn and earnest prayer. In the meantime word was sent round the -camp for the people to at once assemble in meeting and consult on the -question. Women and children came together hurriedly, yet there was no -excitement, and soon the Bowery was well filled. Morris was seen to come -out from his dwelling with a paper in his hand. This paper proved to -be a written revelation. His council were awaiting him. The revelation -was read to the council, and a peculiar document it was. It purported -to be from God, who was represented as being pleased with his faithful -people there, and as having brought the posse against them to show his -own power in the complete destruction of their enemies. It also promised -that now the triumph of his people should come. Their enemies should be -smitten before them, but that not one of his faithful people should be -destroyed—that “not a hair of their heads should be harmed.” The council -at once stepped out into the Bowery, close to which lived all the leading -men, and, to save time, singing was omitted, and the meeting was opened -briefly by prayer. John Parsons (previously a noted Mormon preacher -in London), in his clear sonorous voice, then read the revelation. R. -Cook arose to consult with the people as to which should be obeyed—the -proclamation demanding the surrender of the prisoners held in custody -of Peter Klemgard, and four of the leading men of the Church, or the -revelation forbidding the surrender of these men. Before the people had a -chance to speak or vote, or do anything at all in the matter, the booming -sound of a cannon was heard, and screams arose from the third seat from -the stand in the Bowery, and instantly two women were seen dead in the -congregation, and the lower jaw, hanging only by a small strip of skin, -was shot off a young girl of from twelve to fifteen years of age. It -was the fearful and heart-rending screams of this girl that stopped the -meeting. The people arose in utter confusion. Cook, still on his feet, -suggested to all to go at once to their homes, and that each man should -take care of his own family as best he could. Never was a revelation -more immediately falsified, for scarcely had the promise of absolute -safety been made than sudden destruction came. Panic-stricken men and -women rushed hither and thither, some seeking safety in cellars, some in -potato-pits; in short, anywhere or in any place in which security could -be either reasonably or unreasonably hoped for. The first shot was in a -few minutes followed by another and still another, and the attack was -continued. The posse drew nearer and nearer, and the firing was kept -up incessantly both with cannon and musketry. Had Burton or McKean had -the pluck of a common constable, they could have gone safely into the -fort, served the summons, and saved all effusion of blood. There was -not a Morrisite in the fort that was armed or thought of arming. They -met to consider the question, and to pray over it. About an hour and -a half after the firing commenced they got their arms and effected an -organization, and a regular defence was made. After fighting three days -they raised the white flag, and ceased firing. Cautiously Burton and his -aids, with a number of men, entered into the camp, and then transpired a -bloody scene, concerning which the following affidavit has been made: - - United States of America, Territory of Utah, S.S. - - Alexander Dow, of said territory, being duly sworn, says: “In - the spring of 1861 I joined the Morrisites, and was present - when Joseph Morris was killed. The Morrisites had surrendered, - a white flag was flying, and the arms were all grounded and - guarded by a large number of the posse. Robert T. Burton - and Judson L. Stoddard rode in among the Morrisites. Burton - was excited. He said, “Where is the man? I don’t know him.” - Stoddard replied, “That’s him,” pointing to Morris. Barton - rode his horse upon Morris, and commanded him to give himself - up in the name of the Lord. Morris replied, “No, never, never!” - Morris said he wanted to speak to the people. Burton said, “Be - d—d quick about it.” Morris said, “Brethren, I’ve taught you - true principles.” He had scarcely got the words out of his - mouth before Burton fired his revolver. The ball passed in his - neck or shoulder. Burton exclaimed, “There’s your prophet.” He - fired again, saying, “What do you think of your prophet now?” - He then turned suddenly and shot Banks, who was standing five - or six paces distant. Banks fell. Mrs. Bowman, wife of James - Bowman, came running up crying, “Oh, you bloodthirsty wretch!” - Burton said, “No one shall tell me that and live,” and shot her - dead. A Danish woman then came running up to Morris, crying, - and Burton shot her dead also. Burton could easily have taken - Morris and Banks prisoners, if he had tried. I was standing but - a few feet from Burton all this time. And further saith not. - - ALEXANDER DOW. - - Subscribed and sworn before me, this 18th day of April, A.D. - 1863. - - CHARLES B. WAITE, - _Associate Justice, U.T._ - -In the fight two of the Marshal’s posse were killed, and six of the -Morrisites, and three of the latter were wounded. Only one in the -Morrisite camp was killed by rifle-ball. It was the cannon at long range -that did the damage. The first shot killed two women as before stated, -and wounded a girl; another cannon-ball killed a woman and her child in -the “wickiup.” The mother-in-law of the new prophet was also killed in -her “wickiup.” A little infant had two narrow escapes. The first shot -killed its mother, Mrs. Marsh, while it was in her arms, and it was in -the arms of Mrs. Bowman when she was shot down. After the surrender all -the prisoners were marched to Salt Lake on the 17th, and on the 18th they -were examined before Judge Kinney in chambers, and placed under bonds -to appear at the next regular term of Court. In urging measures against -the Morrisites, Kinney claimed to be satisfied that he did only do his -duty. It is difficult to see how he could long be passive when the order -of his Court was disregarded. Burton committed the atrocity of which he -is accused most undoubtedly, and it was the work of a devoted fanatic, -who, seeking to please the Prophet Brigham, did not hesitate to do so by -ridding him of a troublesome rival. That John Banks was foully dealt with -there seems little room to doubt. He was wounded at the time of Morris’s -death, but not fatally. The manner of his “taking off” only is obscure. -In the evening he was well enough to sit up and enjoy his pipe. Suddenly -he died. Was he poisoned, shot, or “knifed?” is the only query. It is -generally believed that Dr. Clinton “knifed him.” Banks was among the -first to receive Mormonism in Preston, Lancashire, England. He was soon -ordained a high-priest, and during many years of labour among the Saints -he had presided over the largest conferences in Britain, and at one time -was one of the Presidency over the whole Church there. He was the most -eloquent preacher that was ever in the Mormon Church. As his faith waned -in Mormonism he was painfully grieved, and at times became intemperate. -Before he was a Mormon he had been a Chartist, and the “despotism” of the -ruling Priesthood was irksome to him. Years before he left England for -Zion he silently mourned over the one-man power. His best life had been -spent for Mormonism, and he was then too far advanced in years to begin -a new life, and he emigrated to Zion when ordered, hoping that his fears -might be removed by better experience. Brigham Young was personally kind -to him after he arrived at Salt Lake, and sought to help him over his -material troubles; but there was in the heart of John Banks more than he -could tell the Prophet. When he heard Morris, it was the opening of a -fresh career to him, and he eagerly embraced the new faith. - -Before the regular session of the Third Judicial District Court, at -which the Morrisites were to be tried, an element was imported into -Utah that was destined to trouble the happiness of the Prophet. A new -Governor, in the person of Stephen S. Harding, of Indiana, was appointed -to succeed Dawson; and Thomas J. Drake of Michigan and Charles B. Waite -of Illinois, were appointed Associate Justices. At the same time a body -of California volunteers, under command of Colonel Connor, were sent on -the overland mail route to protect that and the telegraph line across -the Plains, but the Commander had also instructions to establish posts -near Salt Lake City. At the March session of the Third Judicial District -Court the Morrisites were tried. Ten of them were indicted for killing -two of the posse during the flight; seven of these were convicted, one -was “nolled,” and two were acquitted. Sixty-six others were fined $100 -each for resisting the posse. Of the seven convicted of “murder in the -second degree,” one was sentenced to fifteen years’ imprisonment, one to -twelve years, and five to ten years each. Governor Harding, regarding the -prisoners as deserving of clemency, pardoned them all. Most of those who -had professed the Morrisite faith, and who did not immediately leave the -Territory, found employment and refuge at Camp Douglas. - -A month later, Colonel Connor took 250 of them and a company of the -California volunteers, to Soda Springs, where he established a post in -Idaho, immediately beyond the northern Territorial limits of Utah, and -the Morrisites have there lost their peculiarities among a more humane -population. After the “Morrisite war” Burton enjoyed the respect of the -community and the honours of the Church. Offices and appointments were -showered upon him, and wives multiplied in his household. If Brigham -was horrified at the murder of Morris, Banks, and the two women, he was -unfelicitous in its expression. Burton was, through his influence, made -United States Assessor of Internal Revenue, was made a Bishop of the -Church, and grew from Colonel Burton to Brigadier and Major-General. -He was made a member of the City Government and Sheriff of the county -of Great Salt Lake. His wealth increased with his honours, and he was -associated with Brigham in nearly all of his enterprises. About four -years ago the first move was made against him by the grand jury for the -murders on the Weber, and he managed to conceal himself for about a year, -and was sent on a mission “to preach the gospel” in England, with the -indictment for murder hanging over him. There he was further elevated, -and when he returned to “Zion” he was again honoured by being appointed -the second counsellor to the chief Bishop of the whole Mormon Church. For -the last eighteen months he has enjoyed perfect freedom, and has attended -to his numerous affairs with the utmost assurance that nothing could be -done with him, and in that he is probably correct, for nothing has ever -been done against a prominent Mormon like Burton when a jury had the -disposal of the business. - -On the 6th of March, 1879, with all this evidence, and the testimony of -living eye-witnesses before them, Major-General Burton was acquitted, by -a jury in Salt Lake City, of the murder of Mrs. Bowman! - - - - -FOOTNOTES - - -[1] I myself made a movement with my hand—for I believed that my life was -at stake, and I dared not do otherwise. The words of the oath I did not -utter. [See explanation at the end of the chapter.] - -[2] _Mormonism Exposed_, p. 236. - -[3] Besides poor Mary’s family, in _every_ other instance [with the -solitary exception of Sister Ann—my “talkative friend”—who is still -living, and is so well known in Salt Lake City], I have been as -scrupulous in giving _real_ names as I have been in stating only facts -which I had either witnessed or knew beyond question were true. - - -GILBERT AND RIVINGTON, PRINTERS, ST. JOHN’S SQUARE, LONDON. - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's An Englishwoman in Utah, by Mrs. T. B. H. 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