Chapter 17
CHAPTER XVII. 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 away carefully 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 those 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 informed us that he had received letters from Utah and had come to take the place of Mr. Stenhouse as president of the mission in the Eastern States, and that we might now prepare
to travel with the next company of immigrants. To me this was most unpleasant intelligence, 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 immigrants 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 immigrants 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, and 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. Knowing 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 never considered. If an order is given to any man to take a journey or perform any given task, his wife
or wives are never thought of. They are his property just as much as his horses, mules or oxen, and if one wife should 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 counseled 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 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 endeavoring 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. Our 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 arise 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 immigrants were assisted from a fund provided for that purpose, the Perpetual Emigration Fund.
More than twenty years ago, contributions were levied on the more wealthy saints for the purpose of providing the passage, outfit, and so forth, of those who could not otherwise have gathered to Zion. It was not, however, intended that a free passage should be provided. Thus, who had a little money were assisted, and then, after all, they had to make good
to the last farthing, with interest, what they had borrowed from the fund. I have known many people who contributed very largely, and it was represented constantly as the duty of all to do so. Men who contemplate entering into the patriarchal order of matrimony, if they are Americans, generally try to discover whether the emigration of their lady-love has been settled for, and
if their investigations end unfavorably, the result, very frequently, is that their devotion is turned into another channel, and some other maiden, whose expenses have been fully paid off, bears off the palm. Englishmen have not always been quite so prudent, and some have married according to their own sweet fancy, without asking a question, and to their dismay, not long after
the wedding, an account has been sent in for the emigration of Miss Blank. Others again have not been allowed to marry the lady of their choice until she was first paid for, and if the old man was very much in love, this was a quick way of getting the account settled. The Mormon Church never gives, it only lends to the poor.
Many a man and woman has given enough to have emigrated himself or herself over and over again. This was because they were old people, and it was the young girls and young people, generally, who received the benefits of the fund. Many years ago, a poor old widow woman in England said to me,
I suppose I must wait. She did wait, and died waiting. 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 handcart emigrants. Looking back to our primitive mode of traveling, 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 wagon, 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
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 of our thoughts against polygamy, while each wife confiding in her husband's honor 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 heartbroken 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 canyon 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-capped 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 specter of my existence, polygamy. I believed that this little earthly paradise would probably be to me and my daughters after 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 wagons 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. The weather was now growing very cold and wintry and it was absolutely necessary that we should have some better shelter than the wagons 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 had 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 wagons would have been filled with the trunks of those very brethren who counseled us not to take more than was absolutely necessary. The brethren who gave this counsel were, I noticed, constantly purchasing while they advised everyone 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 cannot 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. A story of fortnight passed before anyone 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 Hiram Claussen, 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 the 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 counselor 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 the 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.
