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Women of Mormonism
Chapter 17 - Heart History
THE WOMEN OF MORMONISM:
or
THE STORY OF POLYGAMY
As Told by the Victims Themselves.
Edited By
JENNIE ANDERSON FROISETH
Editor of the Anti-Polygamy Standard, Salt Lake City,
PUBLISHED BY
C.G.G. PAINE, DETROIT, MICH.
1886
Copyright, 1881 and 1882
By Jennie Anderson Froiseth
Wedding
Anniversary.-Mormon Missionary-his Visit.-The Shock.-The Old Home.-Invalid Sister.-The
Mother’s Advice.-The Journey to Zion.-Bishop Parker’s Wives.-A Solemn
Promise.-The New Home.-Obscene Sermons.-Mrs. Parker’s Friendship.-Unwelcome
Visitor.-Murdered.
IT was Maggie Blake’s
wedding anniversary, and memory carried her back to her bridal day. In fancy she stood
once more at the altar, listening to the words that bound her to the man she loved, until
death should them part.
Tears had filled her eyes when those solemn vows were uttered, and
she had whispered a prayer to the God above for help to faithfully keep them. Happy in the
love of husband and child, the years had rolled peacefully by.
But to-night, as she stood on the little vine wreathed porch awaiting
her husband's return, a, presentiment of a coming evil, a nameless something that she
could not define, seemed to hang over her; and she sighed aloud while murmuring to herself
the words of the poet:
" Thy fate is the
common fate of all.
Into each life some rain
must fall. "
[214] Little dreamed
this young wife how soon the shadows of grief would darken the sunlight of her happiness,
and a cup of sorrow be held to her lips, from which she would drink to the lees, and whose
bitterness would poison her young life forevermore.
The sound of her husband's footfall broke in upon her reverie, and
she ran blithely down the walk to meet him.
"Well, little wife," were his first words, "I am late
to-night, but business before pleasure, always. I stopped at Judge Vernon's to talk over
the plan of his new house. I am to begin it immediately, and before it is finished there
will be a good many hundred dollars in my pocket."
When Maggie attempted to scold him for thinking of money-making on
his wedding-day, he laughingly answered that she must veil her eyes if she wished to feign
anger; they were tell-tales, and showed her gratification too plainly. But when, after
tea, he asked her to go with him to hear a missionary from Utah speak, although she
consented she was greatly disappointed that he did not wish to spend this evening at home.
"Ah!" she thought, " men do not think of these things, or if they do, they
call them trifles, but it is the observance of such trifles that make the sum of woman's
happiness."
A little later they entered the public hall of the village, where a
large crowd had gathered to listen to the discourse on this new religion; some from
curiosity, others from interest.
When the speaker stepped upon the platform, Maggie felt a thrill of
disappointment, not unmingled [215]
with disgust. She had from childhood, reverential feeling for
anything pertaining to religion. A minister of the Gospel she considered as one chosen of
God, to be treated with awe.
Her dear old pastor, to whom she had listened Sabbath after Sabbath,
was loved and respected by all his little band of faithful followers. And well he deserved
it. The needy were never turned from his door, although to aid them his own family were
often deprived of comforts. Only a look at his dear, kind face brought peace and rest to
many an erring one, and courage to many a fainting heart that was striving to enter the
portals of the heavenly city.
But this man was a portly, sleek well-kept individual, with whom one
could never associated the idea of self-sacrifice; on the contrary, he impressed her as
being just the reverse,-greedy and selfish to a fault. In appearance, he was of medium
height, broad .shoulders, sandy beard, hair a few shades darker, florid complexion, and
light-blue eyes. His full, thick lips covered a set of large, white teeth, which he was
fond of showing.
He told of the beauties of Zion, the city of the Saints, where they
were building temples to God, where there was no quarreling nor fighting, no backbiting
nor jealousy, but perpetual unity, peace, and harmony. All were brothers and sisters,
willing and ready to help each other. He was an earnest speaker, and while under the spell
of his voice, doubtless many of his hearers agreed with him [216] that the Latter-day
Saints were God's chosen people and thought that Salt Lake City must be a heaven upon
earth.
Maggie's dreams that night were troubled, and she awoke the next
morning feeling tired and ill. As Harry bade her good-by, he said: "Have a nice tea
ready to-night; Maggie, for I intend to bring Elder Campbell home with me," and he
hurried away as if he felt afraid he was doing something to offend or grieve her.
For a moment Maggie was tempted to call him back, and beg him not to
invite this man to the house; but she saw it would be folly to do so without a better
reason than she could give. Yet, all day a feeling as of some impending evil oppressed
her, which she tried in vain to shake off. As evening approached she was her own sweet
self once more, and greeted her unwelcome guest as pleasantly as if no evil fancies
concerning him had ever flitted through her brain. He was entertaining in conversation,
relating many pleasant stories and witty anecdotes. When the talk turned upon Utah, Maggie
noticed that her husband seemed much interested, and from a remark dropped carelessly, she
found to her surprise that the elder and Harry had met several times before in the
village, and appeared almost like old friends.
Soon after tea, Maggie excused herself, in order to put Lilly,-her
one little darling ewe lamb,-to sleep, and when she returned Elder Campbell said, "
Your little girl looks very delicate, Mrs. Blake."
Maggie replied that she was not very strong You should bring her to Utah, then, by all means.
The air is so bracing, and the climate so delightful, that she would be sure to grow up
healthy and robust.”
"Do you think so?" Harry asked eagerly; While even Maggie
thought, ''Anything to benefit my darling. "
Seeing his advantage ,the elder resumed warmly :_
"I am sure of it. Why, madam, people come there from all parts
of the world who are crippled and diseased, and in a short time they are restored to
health and happiness. The climate is wonderful, wonderful ! "
Harry asked if the journey overland was not very fatiguing. -
"That depends a great deal upon the outfit you have, Mr. Blake,” the elder
slowly replied. "You can make the journey very comfortably if you have the means to
do so."
After a short pause, he added:-
" Come now, say you will join the Latter-day Saints, and emigrate to
Zion."
"We could go to your Zion without becoming Saints, I
presume," Maggie laughingly remarked.
The elder seemed rather disconcerted for a moment, but he answered
with a peculiar smile: " Certainly you could,
but very few do. However, we should hope to
convert you soon. We should be too glad to have you with us to quarrel over the
terms." Soon after, he bade them good-night, and took his leave.
[218]- The days passed by, and Maggie, hearing nothing more of the
elder, concluded he had left the neighborhood. She sincerely hoped so, for his influence
seemed to have wrought a transformation in her husband, or at least she thought so; for
his change of conduct dated from the evening Elder Campbell had taken tea with them. He
was often . gloomy and absent-minded. His evenings were occupied with business, he said;
so his wife had little of his company. She was unsuspecting, and did not think of
connecting his absence with the missionary from Utah; so when the shock came, it fell with
greater force.
One evening, a few weeks after the elder's visit, Harry returned home
earlier than usual, and as if to make amends for the past, he exerted himself to please to
the utmost. Maggie's tender little heart accepted the olive branch extended, fluttering
with joy at the gentle caresses and loving words. Perhaps they made the blow fall all the
harder, when Harry, suddenly changing the subject said: "Maggie, I have joined the
Saints, and intend to emigrate to Zion ! "
"Harry ! surely you do not mean that. Would you give up this
dear little home where we have spent so many happy hours? And my dear old mother, and only
sister, how can I part with them? Oh, my dear husband, I have never crossed you in any
desire before, but in this I cannot yield so easily," Maggie pleaded when she
recovered from the shock.
"Now, Maggie, your entreaties are of no use; we [219] must go,
but you are welcome to take your mother with you, I cannot change my mind, for my word is
given and cannot be taken back," was the almost gruff answer.
Maggie thought she would make one more appeal, so she said: "
What has put this idea into your head ? We have every comfort around us, a beautiful home
and kind friends, your business is prospering; think of the sacrifice you will be
compelled to make ! "
"We can soon get another home, perhaps better than this, and
make other friends as dear."
"But you know they will not be the same, Harry; do yield to me
in this, and give up your idea of emigrating to that far-off country. Something tells me
it is not for the best," and she clung to his arm in her earnestness.
He pushed her rudely aside, answering angrily: " No, I tell you,
I am going; and if you do not choose to accompany me, you need not do so." And to
stop further questioning, he walked quickly away.
"If you do not choose to accompany me, you need not do so"
It may seem almost incredible, but these are the identical words which the Mormon elders
counsel both husbands and wives to say to their partners who do not willingly consent to
ruthlessly sever old ties and associations in order to emigrate to the promised land. And
the numbers of wives and husbands that have been deserted, and the households that have
been desecrated or totally broken up in obedience to this counsel, will never [220] be
known until the secrets of earth are revealed on the day of judgment.
Tears of wounded pride and affection filled the eyes of the loving
wife. In all her married. life, she had never been so rudely repulsed. What had so changed
her husband's nature? Was this but a foreshadowing of coming events? If she thought so,
would she not be doing right to take him at his word, and remain at home? No, a wife's
place is at her husband's side in all changes of life, and vicissitudes of fortune.
The next morning, Harry, thoroughly ashamed of himself, asked her
forgiveness, saying, "Maggie, I was a brute to talk as I did last night, come kiss
and make up." She raised her face for the proffered kiss, but her heart was too sore
for words.
Holding her still in his embrace, Harry continued, " You must
not think that I could for one moment harbor the thought of being parted from you, Maggie.
What could I do in that far-off country without my faithful wife? I am not always what I
should be, I know, dear; but still, my heart is all right, and holds no idols but you and
our child. Look up now, smile, and say you forgive me."
Hard indeed is the heart that is proof against warm kisses and loving
words, and a woman's sensitive heart is swayed by love alone. Raising her eyes, she smiled
through her tears, though her lips still quivered. The subject of emigration was not
mentioned again for a few days, and Maggie began to hope that it would not be renewed.
Alas ! those [221] hopes were soon shattered; for before starting to his business one
morning, after kissing his wife and child good-by, :Harry said: "Be in haste with
your preparations, Maggie, for we shall leave here in a few weeks. I had an excellent
offer for the house yesterday, which I did not think best to refuse, and the furniture can
be sold at auction." And without waiting for a reply he was gone, which was always
his way when he had grieved or wounded his wife's feelings.
Poor Maggie, who can depict the agony of that moment! Although
partially prepared, she had not fully realized the sacrifice until then. Her brain
whirled, and dropping into a chair, she wept bitterly. Lilly mingled her tears in
sympathy. " O mamma, must we leave Grandma and Aunt Agnes, and my pony and rabbits
and all our pretty things? " "Yes, my dear, I am afraid we must."
" Then I won't go."
“Hush, Lilly, we must do whatever papa thinks best. Now, you go
and tell Sam to have the pony at the door as soon as possible, and we will go and see
grandma."
The more she thought of it, the more her grief increased. How could
she leave this happy home, around which clustered so many tender memories. In a few short
weeks strangers would own these cherished walls, while she would be miles away on the road
to a new country, leaving every endeared object behind. No, not all she loved, her husband
and child would be with her, and with them it was her duty to at least strive to be
content.
[222] The home of her
childhood was but a few miles distant. Its sole occupants now were an aged mother and an
invalid sister, to whom she was devotedly attached. She had not the courage to tell them
sooner that this sad parting might be, but there could not now be longer delay. She was
soon driving through shady lanes and over pleasant roads, passing field after field of
waving grain, fast ripening for the harvester's sickle, and orchards, whose branches bent
beneath their golden burden.
"See, mamma, there is grandma's house," cried Lilly, and
through the tall trees with their heavy foliage, could be seen an old-fashioned country
house, setting back from the road, with broad porches on every side, over which a variety
of creeping vines lovingly twined their delicate tendrils.
Rover, the faithful old watch-dog, bounded joyfully down the path to
meet them. “Even he will miss me," she thought. At the sound of the carriage
wheels, an old lady appeared at the door, the dearest old lady too, that ever was seen;
not very tall, but plump and rosy, with soft brown eyes and silver hair, put smoothly back
under the whitest of caps At sight of her, another pang was added to Maggie's sorrow. How
that loving heart will grieve! She kissed her more affectionately than ever, and asked:
" How is Agnes to-day, mother? "
"She is feeling quite well for her, Maggie, and was just wishing
you would drive over. But, my daughter, I don't think you are looking very well
yourself." Maggie, however, assured her she was quite well and hastened on to her
sister.
[223] The pleasantest room in the house had been fitted up for the
invalid's use. Everything in it was dainty and pure. A couch was drawn to the window, and
there, scarcely less white than the pillows on which she reclined, lay Maggie's only
sister-Agnes. After the first anxious inquiries for her health, Agnes said, " I have
been longing to hear you sing. I often think, when those fearful pains come on, if you
were only here to sing, to me, it would drive them away. I shall send for you next
time."
"I hope you will, dear," Maggie faintly replied. Oh, how
could she tell her !
" Now that you are here," Agnes continued, " you must
sing until you are tired. Oh dear! the happiest days I spend now are thinking of the old
times, when our father and brother were alive; and of the songs we sang, and the merry
games we played, in the long winter evenings. How we made these old rooms ring. I am
thankful that we were so happy together, and never fretted each other as some families do,
so that we can now look back with pleasure, instead of regret at those days."
"Yes, Agnes, we were happy, but you were always so good. I
cannot see why such an affliction should be visited upon you." " He knoweth all
things best," sighed the invalid. "I do not mourn now as I used, but still it is
hard to lie here so helpless, day after day. Yet, Maggie, I often think it will not be
very long now. I feel that the end will come soon, and, dear sister, I am content. When I
am gone, Maggie, you will comfort [224] mother; for although I have been such a care and
trouble to her, I know she will mourn me deeply, more than I deserve."
Maggie was weeping bitterly; never, it seemed was heart so
tempest-tossed. Where was her duty ? with these helpless women, or with her strong
husband, who was taking her away from all she loved at the instigation of a ,stranger and
a worthless adventurer, as she mentally called the Mormon emissary? But she could not tell
them yet what must be; so, seating herself at the piano, she played soft, dreamy melodies,
until her voice was firm enough to sing. Then one song followed another, until the old
house rang again with the sweet music. Her mother's tears fell fast as she asked her to
sing her father's favorite, that sweet old ballad, "The Land o' the Leal."
Though her voice trembled, Maggie sang bravely to the end. Then drawing a stool to her
mother's side, she rested her head on her knee, letting the tears flow freely.
Here little Lilly, who was also nestling close to her grandma's side,
said softly, " Grandma, mamma is crying because we are going away to leave you and
Aunt Agnes, and will never see you any more. Papa said so this morning; but mamma and I
don't want to go, do we, mamma? "
"No, my darling, "Maggie exclaimed, almost savagely,
"and we won't go either." Then trying to calm herself she continued, "It is
all too true., mother, we are going away from you, and yet it is for you to decide for me
Tell me, my mother, to [225] whom do I owe the greatest duty, to you, or to my
husband?"
"Quiet yourself, my child," said her mother gently, you
cannot know what you are saying; going away, where would you go to?"
"To Utah, to join the Mormons," Maggie replied. "
Oh, no, :not that ! " came the agonized cry from two loving
hearts.
"Yes, mother, Harry has joined the Mormons, our home is sold,
and in a few weeks we leave; but if you only say so, I will remain here at home with you.
Oh, tell me, I entreat you, what to do, for I do not know ! " she sobbed
"You must go with your husband, my child, that is the only thing
you can do. Your duty is plain in the matter; he has the first claim on you. Agnes and I
have not long to stay until we are called to the Master's home. I wish that Harry would
wait until we are gone."
"I have plead with him, mother, and he will not yield; yet how
can I leave you?"
"Do not grieve, Maggie," said Agnes softly, “it will
be a great trial to give you up, but the time for parting must come sooner or later. This
only hastens it, but your place is at your husband's side, and no matter what follows, you
will have the consciousness of knowing you have done your duty."
"I wish, Agnes, that I possessed a little of your resignation
and submission, it would make trials much easier to bear; but putting aside all thoughts
of our parting, something tells me not to go, and I [226]
cannot banish the thought, it seems an admonition that I dare not
disregard."
"You are nervous and excited, my child, and no wonder. God will
prepare the way for you, and I sincerely pray that your trials may be few. But should you
be called upon to carry a heavier cross than you have borne before, try to be patient,
remembering always, ' Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth."'
A host of warm friends escorted Maggie and her husband to the train
to bid them God-speed on their journey. A number of persons from their own and adjoining
villages were going also, but none with whom they were intimately acquainted.
Many were the comments of friends and neighbors on the step the
Blakes were taking, but Harry was indifferent to all remarks, some of which were intended
to reach his ear. Maggie had bade her loved ones farewell in the privacy of their own
home, and we will not rend the veil from the sacredness of that parting hour.
Presently the signal was given, the train moved slowly offamid the
waving of handkerchiefs and cheers of good-will, slowly at first, then faster and faster,
until trees, fences, houses, and hills seemed flying past them, and they were fairly on
the road to Zion.
Maggie's thoughts were at home with her loved -ones. She could not
weep, out there was a look of suffering in the soft brown eyes, unusual to them.
At Florence they met other emigrants with whom they were to travel
across the plains. During their [227] stay in this place, while making preparations for
the journey, Maggie formed a few pleasant acquaintances among the emigrants, which,
together with the excitement connected with the novel mode of travel went far toward
reconciling her to the change.
The first day's journey ended, they camped for the night very weary
indeed, but the bright camp-fire and good, warm supper soon refreshed them. After supper
they all gathered in a circle, and prayers were offered by the elders. Then came singing,
in which all, young and old, joined heartily. As Maggie listened to the songs so earnestly
sung by little children, strong men and matrons, and gray-headed patriarchs and aged
women, whose life-journey was well-nigh ended, her heart was touched, and she felt that
perhaps the Lord was indeed with those who were making such sacrifices to do' his will.
But as the journey lengthened, and the days grew into weeks, and the
weeks into months, and each night and morning she heard those apparently fervent prayers
and songs of thanksgiving that they were "permitted to gather to Zion out of
Babylon," echoed by women and men sick and almost dying from exhaustion and hunger,
she grew to hate them, -they seemed only a mockery. The company had been late in starting,
and as they had also met with some unavoidable delays, and the management was not of the
best, their provisions ran low, and they were placed on half rations before the journey
was two-thirds ended, and ere long one scant meal a day was all that was apportioned out
to them.
[228] The Blakes, who were traveling independently, were amply
provisioned, and generously shared with others, until they, too, found starvation almost
staring them in the face. Then, as the weather grew cold and stormy, the weaker ones died,
and were hastily buried by the wayside. When the cheering news was at length given that on
the morrow they would see Zion, those poor creatures rejoiced greatly, thinking that now
their trials were ended.
A more beautiful sight than met the eyes of the weary travelers, when
they reached the summit of the mountain, could scarcely be imagined. Before them lay the
lovely valley of the Great Salt Lake, seeming to their weary eyes a very paradise of rest
and contentment, while in the distance the briny waters of the lake glistened brightly in
the sunlight. Many heartfelt prayers of gratitude went up to the Father above for bringing
them safely to this peaceful harbor. Slowly they descended the mountain, and entered the
city of the Saints, where they were warmly welcomed, shelter for all being freely
proffered.
The Blakes were taken to the home of Bishop Parker. Leading them into
a room where a pleasant faced lady was sitting, their host said: "Mary, these are our
guests, brother and ,sister Blake, and little Lilly; we must try to make them
comfortable." His wife expressed her pleasure at meeting them, so cordially that
Maggie felt irresistibly drawn toward her. Her face wore a, sweet yet unutterably [229]
sad expression, showing to even a casual observer that she must have passed through some
terrible trial. A little later, as she and Maggie were sitting alone, pleasantly chatting,
a young woman entered the room, with a child in her arms. She asked Mrs. Parker some
questions pertaining to household affairs, and Maggie presumed she was a domestic, and her
astonishment can scarcely be imagined when her hostess introduced her as "sister
Ellen Parker, my husband's fourth wife."
Maggie looked from one to the other in perfect bewilderment, and her
eyes followed the comely young woman as she left the room.
“His fourth wife, did you say?" she stammered.
"What do you mean? Do the Mormons marry more than one wife?"
It was, now Mrs. Parker's turn to look surprised. "Is it
possible, Mrs. Blake," she said, "that you have not heard that polygamy is
practiced among our people? "
“I never have,
though perhaps that is not to be wondered at, as I have not joined the church. But my
husband has, and he has said nothing to me of such a practice, or-" Maggie checked
herself ere the words were uttered. She would not hurt the feelings of her hostess by
expressing her sentiments.
Mrs. Parker, smiling slightly, finished the sentence for her,
"or you would not have come to this country "
"I do not think I should," Maggie replied, adding [230]
half apologetically, " but there was no need of my saying so; pray forgive me, I did
not mean to offend you."
" No offense was taken," said her hostess. " Every
pure nature recoils from such a system when it is first spoken of, but "-with a
sigh-" like everything else, we become used to it in time." The fourth wife
again passed through the room, eyeing Maggie curiously as, if she would read her thoughts;
and as the door closed upon her, Mrs. Parker resumed, and with genuine pity and concern in
her voice, "I am very sorry, Mrs. Blake, that you were left in ignorance of polygamy.
It might have saved you much misery, had you known it sooner."
" O Mrs. Parker," cried Maggie tearfully, " if my
husband were to take another wife it would kill me. I know I could not endure it."
"Ah, my dear," Mrs. Parker answered, smiling sadly,
"we all think that, but we manage to live through it after all. Let us hope your
husband will not, at least until you understand and are reconciled to the doctrine; but
should he do so, try to bear it patiently, and you will be rewarded in the next world, if
not in this."
Maggie smiled through her tears as she replied, " Did you know
me better, you would see the futility of such advice. There is not a particle of
submission in my nature. I fear his home would be anything but pleasant, if he once made
the attempt."
The old lady sighed: " So we all think, my dear, but continual
dropping will wear away even the hardest stone. Now, my husband has four wives, and we get
along very well, seldom having any difficulty. They do all the work, while I am house
keeper and general manager," adding with a forced laugh, "so you see, polygamy
is not very bad for the first wife, after all."
The sad countenance and mournful eyes of Mrs. Parker belied her
words, and Maggie felt in her inmost heart that she was not speaking truthfully; but she
had not yet learned that the life of a Mormon woman is one continual dissimulation to the
world, and warfare with herself. But not wishing to appear discourteous, Maggie said,
"Well, looking on it in that light, perhaps it is not so bad, and anyway, I won't
borrow trouble, for it may come of itself, soon enough."
They were soon called out to supper, and when all were seated at the
long table, the four wives surrounded by children of all ages, each mother providing for
her own, Maggie inwardly shuddered at the thought of such a life. There could be no
privacy, or real home feeling in such a circle, though it might be called home. How could ,she endure to share her husband's
affections with other women, as this poor wife was doing, and yet she fancied the
husband's voice sounded softer and more tender, and that his manner was more gentle and
respectful when as king to her, his early love. As soon as they were alone that night,
Maggie broached the subject nearest her heart breaking, "Harry, did you know of this
doctrine of polygamy, before leaving home? "
[232] "Well, yes, I heard a rumor of it, but nothing definite
until we were on the plains."
"Why, then, did you not tell me of it?"
" Oh, I thought you would find it out soon enough," he
answered indifferently.
" Yes, to my sorrow. "
"Why, Maggie, you do not suppose I would bring another woman to
the house while you were around? A house large enough to hold us could not be found. The
girl's beauty would soon be spoiled, for if I took another wife, she would be a beauty of
course; you know how I admire pretty girls," laughed Harry teasingly.
"Don't jest, Harry," Maggie said, her voice trembling;
"to me it is no jesting matter, to think of sharing my husband's home and heart with
another. I could not do it, I must have all or nothing."
"Maggie, you missed your vocation," cried Harry, still
jesting " The tone and gesture with which you said 'I must have all or nothing,' was
worthy of a tragedy queen !"
"O Harry," exclaimed Maggie impatiently, "can you
never be serious?" Then going to his side, she clasped her hands on his arm, looking
earnestly up to his face. "Will you make me a promise?" she asked.
"A hundred, if you like, my dear," said Harry, now
thoroughly sobered by his wife's manner.
"But I mean a solemn one, one that you will hold as sacred as
your life; promise me never to take another wife while I live."
[233] “Bless your
heart, dear one, if that is all that troubles you, rest in peace, you are all that I can
manage. But joking aside, you know, Maggie, that you and Lilly are dearer to me than
anything else in the world and I would sacrifice my own life rather than give you any
unnecessary pain. Go to sleep now, my dear, and let us hope that our future will be
brighter even than the past, in our new home in Zion."
Ah me ! Harry Blake was not the only man in the history of Mormonism
who solemnly pledged the wife of his youth that he would never trample her affections
under foot, or pollute her fireside by the presence of another woman with whom he was
living in sin under the guise of religion. The victims of those broken vows can be
numbered by hundreds, yes, thousands, who are living today, and who envy their more
fortunate sisters sleeping in nameless graves on the bleak hillsides of Utah.
The very next day after their arrival in Zion, Harry went out with
Bishop Parker to look for a home, and upon his return informed their hostess that he had
been fortunate in securing a house and lot, adding: " They told me it was church
property. The house has been occupied, although it had never been finished, indeed it is a
mere shell. The lot is a very good one, however, and in time I shall be able to make a
fine place of it."
"I know the house," Mrs. Parker replied, " the poor
man who built it is dead. When he reached the valley with his wife and three little ones,
their [234] money was almost gone, it had taken most of the savings of years to buy their
outfit. The wife was a delicate little body, but cheerful and ambitious, the children,
sweet and pretty. The husband seemed to worship them. But from the day they reached here
misfortune seized them.
"The man rented a small house, but there was no barn or yard to
keep his stock in, and the neighbors advised him to turn them loose. One morning they
could not be found. As there was no brand to identify them, he could not prove they were
his had he seen them."
"And did he never recover them ? " asked Maggie.
No, the country was full of Indians then, and every one said they
must have stolen them. He purchased a lot on time from the church, and not having much
money, he tried to build his own house. When the walls were up and the roof on, they moved
in. That winter was very severe, and his wife took a cold, which, settling on her lungs,
threw her on a bed of sickness. She lingered until spring came, then, when everything was
green and beautiful, she died; the baby soon followed her and the heart-broken husband and
father gave up in despair.
"The church of Latter-day Saints demands a tenth of a man's
earnings for tithing. This man had nothing to pay, whatever he turned his hand to failed.
The lot had not been entirely paid for, and soon had to be surrendered again to the
church. His home gone, he lost all hope, and one morning, [235] soon after his wife's
death, he was found dead in his bed. The two little orphan girls who were so sadly bereft
of both parents are tenderly cared for by a family who have adopted them."
“ What a shame, to
take his home from him ! " exclaimed Maggie indignantly.
"Yes, I thought so, too. Brother Parker tried to intercede for
him, but was told that the interests of the church must be looked after, which of course
is true, in a measure. But," she said, changing the subject, " you can make a
nice home of it, and you must not mind if you hear it said that it is an unlucky place, as
I am sure that both you and your husband are too sensible to pay any attention to foolish
gossip."
When Maggie was fairly settled in her new home, which Harry had
fitted up with taste and comfort, she might have been content, had it not been for the
grim specter, polygamy, continually staring her in the face. But thrust it aside as she
would, the fear of it would ever creep back into her heart.
To please her husband, she accompanied him to a few dances, the
popular amusement among the Saints, but what pleasure she might have had was turned to
bitterness, in sympathy for her sex. To see a man enter the hall, followed by several
women who called him husband; to note the angry, jealous looks bestowed by the rest upon
the favorite, or upon some girl young enough to be his grandchild, with whom their lord
and master was flirting, filled her with indescribable disgust.
[236] Why do they submit
to such treatment, she thought; if it were her, she would kill herself before she would
suffer such indignities ! But ere long, she learned the estimation in which a woman is
held among the Latter-day Saints.
Neither did the meetings at the Tabernacle and ward meeting-houses
hold attractions for her. The sermons consisted principally of maledictions hurled at the
Gentiles, and eulogies of celestial marriage, which were often too disgusting to listen
to.
Some of the apostles were profane and obscene, as well as,
illiterate; and Maggie felt it an outrage to be compelled to sit and hear such libels on
religious teachings. Gradually her husband ceased to invite her to accompany him, and she
was not loth to remain away.
She was greatly attached to her friend, Mrs. Parker, at whose house
she was so pleasantly entertained upon their arrival, and her intimacy with the bishop's
wife was a shield to her in many ways; for Maggie was fast learning some of the mysteries
of Zion, and was not as careful in expressing her opinions as wiser people would have
been. Mrs. Parker always had a good word to speak in defense of Maggie, who would, indeed,
have been almost friendless without her.
As she sat sewing one afternoon, some one rapped at the door, and
walked immediately in without waiting to be bidden to enter. The visitor proved to be an
old Mormon lady who had called several times. That her visits were never returned did not
[237] disconcert her in the least. "How do you do, sister Blake? ' she asked in her
blandest voice "I had not seen you to ward meeting lately, and I thought I would come
and inquire after your spiritual situation."
Maggie replied politely, asking her to be seated, when the old lady
threw back her bonnet and shawl, and took out her knitting. Seeing she was likely to
remain some time, Maggie resumed her work with a sigh of resignation.
"You have been here some time, sister Blake," the old woman
remarked, "and I have been wondering when you were going to be baptized."
"I am sure I don't know," Maggie replied, " I have no
intention of doing so at present, and for that matter, I do not know that I ever
shall."
"What! sister Blake," she cried in amazement, "never
be baptized? Now, I know you can't mean that. Why did you ever come to Utah, if you did
not intend to join the Saints?"
"I came to please my husband, as many other women have done, I
suppose. He is a Mormon, but I am not, and never intend to be," was the decided
answer.
"But, sister Blake, you will never get to heaven if you do not
join the church. Don't you know that only the Latter-day Saints can enter the celestial
kingdom ? "
Maggie smiled quietly as she said, "I will take my chances. I
should indeed be sorry to think that all the dear friends I have lost are not in
heaven."
[238] The old lady interrupted her, saying eagerly, "But if you
should join the church, you could redeem them by being baptized for them, for they are in
purgatory, I am sure."
"Baptized for them!" ,said Maggie in surprise. "
Please explain. "
"Well, I never, sister Blake, but you are ignorant of the
doctrines of the church. Did you not know that we Latter-day Saints were allowed to be
baptized for the dead? and as we are the only ones permitted to enter the kingdom of
heaven, we should try to redeem others who never embraced our faith, or rather who died
before it was revealed to our prophet, Joseph Smith. I have been baptized twenty
times," and the old lady drew herself up proudly as she added, " and as soon as
I find out the names of some other relatives, I shall be baptized again."
Maggie threw back her head, and laughed more heartily than she had
done since their arrival in the valley. "Truly," she said, "this is a
wonderful Gospel! You deserve a rich reward for sacrificing your comfort for so many
people. It could not be very pleasant to be ducked under the water so many times,
especially in cold weather."
"No, it was not very pleasant, but as it was my duty, I did not
mind it."
"Do you really believe, Mrs. Foote, that you have redeemed the
souls of your friends from purgatory, as you call it?" Maggie asked seriously.
"I do, indeed, sister," she answered; " our prophet
says so, and it must be true."
"I must say, then, that your religion is a very selfish one. I
could never have faith in any doctrine that claimed to be the only one by which people
could be saved. I believe there are earnest Christians in every denomination who will be
saved at the last day. Their judgment may have been at fault in some things, but so long
as they tried to do right, God will overlook all involuntary errors, and commend them for
the good they have done."
But this good Saint was not to be convinced. She had been too
thoroughly grounded in the errors of Mormonism, and was, in consequence, too bigoted to
see things in any light but the one she was told.
"I must get some of the elders or bishops to talk to you,
sister; it will never do to let you continue in that way; your fate will certainly be to
be turned over to the buffetings of Satan. I suppose now, you don't believe in celestial
marriage either?" she said, cunningly watching the expression of Maggie's face as she
spoke.
Maggie could scarcely conceal her contempt, as she replied,
"Certainly not, how could any true woman believe in it?"
"Why, it was a divine revelation from God. It must be true, and
we are taught to obey God's law, are we not? "
"We certainly ought to follow God's law," Maggie said,
" but I cannot believe he would give a law of that kind to his people. His teachings
have ever been loving and merciful. Such a law or practice as polygamy is a source of
never-ending misery and [240] wretchedness that no loving father would willingly inflict
on his children."
"That is the way the women all talk, sister, until they are
regenerated by the Holy Spirit. I used to say the very same myself. But I have lived to
learn better, thanks to the counsel of our holy elders, and I'll see you believing in
polygamy before you leave Utah, and giving another wife to your husband with your own
hand, as I have done."
Maggie considered this conversation simply the chatter of an old
fanatic, but she found afterward that even worse and more absurd things were taught and
believed by the majority of Mormons. Soon after, sister Foote rolled up her knitting, said
goodbye, and wended her way to another house for a friendly chat, where Maggie's words
were repeated, and her dreadful heresy very severely commented upon. And as we all know, a
story never loses by repetition. In this case, it gathered strength until it assumed
wonderful proportions and finally reached the prophet's ear.
On the day following, the visit of sister Foote, Maggie's servant, an
intelligent young English girl, who seemed mature and sober beyond her years, said to her,
" Do you know, Mrs. Blake, that Bishop Proctor's wife died early this morning, and
that the baby is dead too? "
"Why, no, I had not heard it," replied Maggie in surprise.
"I thought they were both doing well. How did it happen ? "
" Happen ! " cried the girl indignantly, and then [241]
almost under her breath, she whispered the word "Murdered ! "
Prof.
J.M.Coyner - Salt Lake City Collegiate Institute
Maggie grew pale as death as she said, " Why Mary, what do you
mean; how can you talk so, are you out of your mind? "
"No, ma'am, I am not, thought I often think it strange that I
have been able to keep my senses considering all the wickedness I have seen done, and all
that I have suffered myself through this accursed religion. Excuse me, ma’am, for
making so free as to talk in this way; but although I have been with you only a few days,
yet I know that you can be trusted; and now that Mrs. Proctor is gone I have lost my only
friend, and it grieves me almost to death to think how cruelly she has been treated,"
and here the poor girl burst into a flood of tears.
Maggie endeavored to soothe her, and as soon as she was quieted, the
girl resumed, "You keep so much to yourself, ma'am, that you do not see or hear
one-half of what is going on around you, almost by your own doors. You know Bishop Proctor
has tried to keep out of polygamy because his wife hated it so, and she was such a loving,
delicate little woman that he could not bear to grieve her. But the priesthood have been
hounding him for months past, and he has been threatened with being sent on a mission, or
even being cut off from the church, if he would not live his religion.
"It was rumored but a short time ago that he had really married
Louisa Young,, and when Mrs. Proctor questioned him, he denied it; but when she [242]
pressed him closer, he told her it was none of her business,-such an answer as he had
never given her before in all their married life.
"I had expected to go and stay with her, but to our surprise, as
soon as she became unable to attend to the house, Louisa. was brought there by the bishop.
" When poor Mrs. Proctor saw that she was really making herself
at home, and acting as if she were mistress of the house, she again implored her husband
to tell her if he was married to her. His reply was that it was the duty of a Mormon woman
to do as she was told, and ask no questions,-a duty that she had always failed in, but
must learn now. She then begged that Louisa might be sent away, and some other person
procured in her place, but this request was also denied.
"This confirmed her suspicions, but it was not until yesterday
that the entire truth was told her. She went right into spasms, and"-here the girl
lowered her voice again to a whisper-"they say that this morning a blue mark was
found upon the baby's throat. Anyway, when Louisa went to take it up it was dead, and the
poor mother died soon after. I don't believe she ever got her senses again after she found
out that Louisa was really her husband's second wife."
" Oh, how horrible! " exclaimed Maggie shuddering. "
Surely, as you say, the poor woman has been cruelly murdered! "
" Yes, and she was such a good woman, too. She [243] was such a
good friend to me when I came here an orphan, alone and unprotected. Oh, ma'am, if there
is a righteous God, how can he let such things go unpunished as are continually happening
here Why, there was that poor wife of James Knight "-
"Don't, Mary, I cannot bear to hear about these things, they are
too dreadful," said Maggie, still pale as death. " You spoke of coming to the
valley alone and unprotected; how did that happen ? "
"Ah, it is a long story, ma'am, and it almost drives me wild to
tell it. It makes me so angry when I think how my poor sister and myself have been robbed
and oppressed by the authorities of this church. But if you will excuse me now, ma'am, I
shall be proud to tell you my story whenever you will be pleased to hear it."
Mary's story, as Maggie afterward heard it, was the following, as
told precisely in her own words:-
" I was born in England. I was one of a large family of
children, all well brought up and tolerably well educated. When my father was converted to
Mormonism, he was the owner of quite a comfortable property. The Missionary under whose
preaching he was converted (and who is now one of the twelve apostles) instructed him that
he should sell everything and prepare at once to emigrate to the valleys of the mountains.
"In obedience to the command, my father disposed of all his
property, and was then told that he must place the proceeds in the hands of the
missionary, who would secure a passage across the Atlantic [244] for himself and family,
and provide all things necessary for the journey. My father obeyed in this also. I was
present when he delivered over the money to the missionary. I saw him place on the table
two bowls filled with English sovereigns and silver. The money was emptied on the table
and counted, and the missionary took it away. Shortly after, he disappeared from the town,
and we soon learned that he had sailed for America, carrying the money with him, and
making no provision whatever for us.
"Still my father did not give up his faith in Mormonism, nor his
determination to emigrate to Zion. After a great deal of effort, he scraped together a
little more money, enough as he thought to pay our way. Such goods as we could take with
us were shipped, and we started on our journey.
"When we reached the Missouri River our money was exhausted. We
had no teams, and no means of getting any; and though the winter had already set in, we with many others started to
cross the plains with hand-carts. I have no words to describe the horrors of that
journey,-the suffering and death from hunger and cold. My father and mother and five brothers and sisters
starved to death before my eyes.
"I saw a young man of our company, in the agonies of starvation,
gnaw the flesh off his own hands. After many had perished, we were at last met by teams
sent out from Salt Lake, which brought necessities that, for the time being, saved us from
death by starvation,
[245]
"But our sufferings were not yet at an end. the weather
continued fearfully cold and stormy. The provisions brought out by the teams were
insufficient, and all of us were near perishing with hunger before our journey's end. But while the women and children were starving, the
captains appointed by the church to lead the companies of emigrants had plenty to eat.
"At length we reached Salt Lake. I was a young girl, known to
almost no one; and my sister who had survived the journey was much younger than myself. We
were a sad pair of orphans, penniless, friendless, and helpless. I knew of nothing we
could call our own, except the boxes of goods which my father had shipped1 from England. I
made inquiries for them, but could learn nothing. Afterward I saw in the tithing office
the boxes marked with my father's name upon them. I asked that at least a part of their
contents might be given to us, but no attention was paid to my request.
"My sister found a place immediately, with a kind woman n from
our native town, who has been like a mother to her, and I was fortunate enough, also, to
find a kind friend in Mrs. Proctor. Both she and the bishop tried to recover some of my
father's things for us; and although they were not successful, I shall never forget their
kindness to me, the poor, desolate orphan that I was. And it makes me feel so wicked to go
to the Tabernacle, and see the man who robbed us sitting on the platform among the twelve
Apostles. I would go a long way to see that [246] man hung, for I count him the murderer
of my father and mother, and my five brothers and sisters.'
This tragic story of poor Mary, which Maggie ascertained was true in
every particular, together with
the sad death of Mrs. Proctor, affected her so deeply as to render her almost ill for
several days. And to add to her distress, her husband, to whom she had communicated her
grief, told her calmly that she must learn to take as a matter of course everything of the
kind she might hear of; for though such incidents were very sorrowful, yet it would do her
no good to fret over what she could not help or prevent.
Next: CHAPTER XVIII. A HEART HISTORY CONTINUED
A happy Home Picture.-"Brother Ellis."-The Message.-A Stormy Scene.-Attempt
at Reconciliation.-Mrs. Parker's Visit.-Her Advice.-Christmas.-Sealed to Jesus Christ.-
Joining the Church.-"Brother Ellis " Again.-Interview with the President. The
Terrible News.-" One of Papa's Women."-Attempt to Escape.-Death.
Back: CHAPTER XVI. THE EFFECTS OF POLYGAMY
Affects Unborn Generations-Young Girls.-Remarkable Statement.-Testimony of
Stenhouse.-House of Correction.-An Apostle's Son.-A Bishop's Hopeful Heir.-Taylor's
Refusal. -" Poor Boy."-Unfortunate Girl.-" Surprised that they Lived
together so Long."-Fifty Children in the Cemetery. Joseph Smith's Son.-" Queen
of the Harem."
Index: INTRODUCTION AND TABLE OF CONTENTS
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