WE FORSAKE ALL, AND SET OUT FOR ZION:—OUR JOURNEY ACROSS THE PLAINS.  
IT was with strange feelings of doubt and unrest that I read that painful story; but I folded up Mary Burton’s letter and stored it carefully away in my desk, and then I began to think.
Certainly I was still a Mormon—at least I was nothing else—but I was not now so firmly grounded in my faith as once I was, and these terrible stories completely unsettled my mind. Then, too, I was well aware that, before long, my husband and myself would be called upon to cross the Plains to Zion, and I felt that if our experience were anything like that of Mary Burton, I and my children would never reach Salt Lake. The prospect was not very cheering.
One morning we were surprised to receive a visit from the Apostle George Q. Cannon, who had come to take the place of Mr. Stenhouse as President of the Mission in the Eastern States, and we were now to prepare to travel with the next company of emigrants.
To me this was most unpleasant intelligence. Polygamy—the knowledge that before long I should be brought personally within its degrading influence—had now for years been the curse of my life, and I had welcomed every reprieve from immediate contact with it in Utah. But the time had come at last when I was to realize my worst apprehensions, and I think at that time, had I been permitted to choose, I would have preferred to die rather than journey to Zion. Besides this, ever since my husband had been engaged with the secular papers, we had been getting along very comfortably. We had now a pleasant home and many comforts and little luxuries which we had not enjoyed since we left Switzerland, and I was beginning to hope that we should be allowed to remain in New York for a few years at least. We had also by this time six children—the youngest only a few days old—and I leave it to any mother to determine whether I had not good cause for vexation when I[146] was told that we were expected to leave New York within two weeks, with the emigrants who were then en route from England. My husband also was to take charge of the company, and therefore everything would depend upon me—all the preparations for our long and perilous journey, the disposal of our furniture, and, in fact, the thousand and one little necessary duties which must attend the packing up and departure of a family.
In the course of a few days the emigrants arrived, and then my husband was compelled to devote all his time to them. When I told the Elders that it was almost impossible for me, in the delicate state of health in which I was, and with a babe only two weeks old, to undertake such a journey, they told me that I had no faith in the power of God, and that if I would arise and begin my preparations, the Lord would give me strength according to my day. Thinking that probably my husband believed as they did, I made the effort, but it cost me much. In the Mormon Church the feelings or sufferings of women are seldom considered. If an order is given to any man to take a journey or perform any given task, his wife or wives are not to be thought of. They are his property just as much as his horses, mules, or oxen; and if one wife should die, it is of little consequence if he has others, and if he has not he can easily get them; and if he is not young or fascinating enough to win his way with the young ladies, he has only to keep on good terms with Brigham Young, or even with his bishop, and every difficulty will be smoothed away, and they will be “counselled” to marry him.
It is never expected, nor would it be tolerated in any Mormon woman, that she should exercise her own judgment in opposition to her husband, no matter how much she might feel that he was in the wrong: I have frequently seen intelligent women subjected to the grossest tyranny on the part of ignorant and fanatical husbands who were influenced by the absurd teachings of the Tabernacle. One of the greatest Mormon writers, Orson Pratt, has said,—
“The wife should never follow her own judgment in preference to that of her husband; for if her husband desires to do right, but errs in judgment, the Lord will bless her in endeavouring to carry out his counsels; for God has placed him at the head, and though he may err in judgment, yet God will not justify the wife in disregarding his instructions and counsels; far greater is the sin of rebellion, than the errors which arise from the want of judgment; therefore she would be condemned for[147] suffering her will to rise against his. Be obedient, and God will cause all things to work for good.”
The trouble and annoyance occasioned by leaving a comfortable position in New York to travel to such an unknown region as Utah was then, was not a trifle; but we hastened our preparations, sacrificing all that we possessed in the most reckless manner, and in due time set out.
When we reached Florence—the starting-point on the Frontiers—we were detained on account of some mismanagement on the part of the Church Agents, and remained for three weeks in camp. Ours was what was called “an independent company;” by which I mean that we were able to defray our own expenses without borrowing from the Church: the poorer emigrants were assisted from a fund provided for that purpose—the Perpetual Emigration Fund.
Our company was in an infinitely better position than that of those emigrants of whose sad fate my friend Mary Burton had told me; for our journey was made at the proper season, and, as far as was possible under the circumstances, convenience and comfort had been attended to. The incidents which befell us were few, and although, of course, every one of us felt weary and worn out, we were not called upon to pass through the miseries and sufferings endured by the hand-cart emigrants. Looking back to our primitive mode of travelling, it appears to me almost as if I must be making some mistake about my own age, and that it must have been several centuries, instead of a few years ago, since we crossed the Plains. The ox-team and waggon, the walk on foot in the day and the camp-life at night, have been pleasantly exchanged for the swift travel of a few days in a Pullman palace-car.
What living contradictions we were as we crossed the Plains—singing in a circle, night and morning, the songs of Zion and listening to prayers and thanksgivings for having been permitted to gather out of Babylon; and then during the day as we trudged along in twos and threes expressing to each other all our misgivings, and doubts, and fears, and the bitterness our thoughts against Polygamy; while each wife, confiding in her husband’s honour and faithfulness, solaced herself with the hope that all might yet be well. How little sometimes do the songs of gladness reflect the real sentiments of the heart. How often have I heard many a poor heart-broken woman singing the chorus,—
“I never knew what joy was
Till I became a Mormon.”
[148]
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 ca?on, 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 ............