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.