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.