WAYS AND WORKS OF THE SAINTS:—THE PROPHET’S MILLINERY BILL.  
When I arrived in Utah I found that nearly all the Elders with whom I had formerly been acquainted had more than one wife there. Many of these brethren called to see me, and kindly insisted that I should visit their families; but this I felt was almost an impossibility.
My whole nature rebelled at the thought of visiting where there were several wives; for, in defiance of all the teaching that I had listened to, and the tyranny to which we had submitted, human nature would assert itself, and my womanly instincts revolted against the system. I could not endure the thought of visiting those families in company with my husband. I thought that perhaps sometimes I might venture alone; but, oh, not with him,—no, not with him. It was bad enough and humiliating enough for me to witness by myself the degradation of my sex; but to do so in the presence of my husband was more than I could calmly contemplate. I knew that I should not be able to control myself, and might probably say some very unpleasant things, which I should afterwards regret; for I so thoroughly loathed even the idea of polygamy at that time that I was filled with a desire to let every one know and understand just what my feelings were on that subject.
I had left New York against my will, although I had not openly rebelled. I had never reproached my husband about it, for I felt that his lot was irrevocably cast with the Mormons: I knew that when I married him, and it was of no use now for me to repine. I must go on to the end—there was no help for me. The journey across the Plains, and all the discoveries which I had made, had not tended to soothe my rebellious heart, and I am not quite sure that I did not sow by the way a little discontent among the sisters. The idea, however, that such was the case did not, I must admit, fill me with much repentance. To my husband I had said very little, but I[180] think he would bear me witness that what I did say was said effectively. Now when I was brought face to face with practical polygamy and could observe it in its most repulsive phases, I hated it more than ever.
One day not long after our arrival, as we were taking a walk together, I saw across the road a man gesticulating after an eccentric fashion and beckoning to us. Mr. Stenhouse said, “That is Brother Heber C. Kimball;” and I looked again with interest to see what that celebrated Apostle was like. I had both heard and read a great deal about Brother Heber, and what I had learned was not at all of a character to impress me favourably—he had been so severe in his denunciation of every woman who dared to oppose polygamy. On the present occasion his conduct was, I thought, anything but gentlemanly; and when we crossed the road to him,—which on account of his position in the Church—next to Brigham himself—we, of course, were compelled to do,—my face must have betrayed my feelings I am sure, for almost his first words after shaking hands were, “Have you got the blues?”
My answer was ready in a moment. “I have had nothing else ever since I came here.”
“Well,” he replied, “it is time that you should get rid of them, and I am going to talk to you some day soon, for I rather like your looks.”
I did not like his looks much, however, nor was I at all pleased with his manner. I do not say that I was altogether without blame in feeling thus, for I was prejudiced. Of course I was prejudiced. From the first moment when I heard that polygamy was a doctrine of the Church, I was predisposed to be dissatisfied with everything: I was henceforth not myself, for the terrible apprehension of my own fate in the “Celestial Order” had changed my whole nature, and that change of itself was a great source of grief to me. I keenly realized that I was no longer the light-hearted, pleasant companion to my husband that I had been, and many a time and oft I wished for his sake that I could die, for I felt that I never could be happy in Mormonism again.
How many times have I knelt by my husband’s couch when he was unconscious of it, and have wept bitter tears of sorrow, earnestly praying to the Lord to subdue my rebellious heart, and, if it were necessary, rather than I should be a continual annoyance to my husband, whom I loved with all my soul, that every particle of love in my heart should be withered, so that I might perchance, if without love, be able at least to do my[181] duty. I fully realized that in polygamy there could be no real love; and while my affections were still placed upon my husband, it was torture to live in a community where I was compelled to listen to the “counsels” which were given to him, day after day, regardless of my presence, to take another wife. I was too proud to notice any ordinary allusion that was made to the subject before me; but when the conversation was turned in that direction by those who professed to be sincere friends and to entertain a kindly interest in my welfare, I was compelled to listen and reply.
In my unhappy condition, I thought that perhaps I might derive some consolation from the sermons in the Tabernacle—something that might shed a softer light upon my rugged pathway. But instead of obtaining consolation, I heard that which aroused every feeling of my soul to rebellion, and kindled again within me the indignation which I had been so long struggling to conquer. I heard that woman was an inferior being, designed by the Lord for the special glory and exaltation of man, that she was a creature that should feel herself honoured if he would only make her the mother of his children—a creature who if very obedient and faithful through all the trials and tribulations in life, might some day be rewarded by becoming one of her husband’s queens, but should even then shine only by virtue of the reflected light derived from the glory of her spouse and lord. He was to be her “saviour,” for he was all in all to her; and it was through him alone and at his will that she could obtain salvation. We were informed that man was the crowning glory of creation, for whom all things—woman included—were brought into being; and that the chief object of woman’s existence was to help man to his great destiny.
Not a sentence—indeed, not a word—did we ever hear as to the possibility of womanly perfection and exaltation in her own right; and not only so, but, as if this were not enough to crush all ambition out of our souls, we were instructed in some new views of marriage. The great object of marriage, we were told, was the increase of children. Those diviner objects—the companionship of soul, the devotion of a refined and pure affection, the indissoluble union of two existences—were never presented to the yearning hearts of those poor women who listened to the miserable harangues of the Tabernacle: such aspirations had nothing to do with the hard, cruel facts of their life in polygamy.
And this I found was how the women of Utah were spiritually[182] sustained. Seldom, indeed, was taught anything better, but frequently much that was worse. If Nature, asserting its right to a full return of love, should manifest itself, and inspire some of these poor wives to rebel against the lives which they were compelled to lead in polygamy, then it would be said, in the language of the Tabernacle, that the women were “filled with the devil,” and that unless they repented speedily, they would “apostatize and go to hell;”—an assurance which was scarcely necessary, for many of those poor souls were enduring as much as if they were there already. Or if some woman was found objecting to polygamy on account of its crushing and degrading effects upon women generally, then, as I just said, she was told in the coarse language of Brigham Young himself, that “such women had no business to complain; it was quite enough honour for them to be permitted to bear children to God’s holy Priesthood.”
I found, therefore; that the sermons in the Tabernacle were not calculated to help me much spiritually. I had neither friend nor counsellor on earth to whom I could turn for help—my God alone remained to me. But, ah, how different were my ideas of God then, from those which I entertained before and since. Once I could look upon the beauties of nature and the varied experiences of human life, and while my soul was lifted up with devotion and gratitude, I could see the loving hand of my Heavenly Father in everything around me. Now there was neither light nor beauty before my eyes—all was dark and dreary; there was nothing to draw away my heart from such sad thoughts as these. It was painfully clear to my understanding, then as now, that in Mormonism woman was to lose her personal identity. All that Christianity had done to elevate her was to be ruthlessly set aside and trampled under foot, and she was instantly to return to the position which she occupied in the darkest ages of the world’s existence.
I had at that time the daily and hourly cares of a family devolving upon me, and had not therefore much leisure to spend in visiting my friends even if I had desired to do so. Notwithstanding that, however, I had abundant opportunities of observation; and thus my experience of Mormonism and polygamy in Utah is much the same as that of any Mormon woman of ordinary sense; I only tell what others could relate if they had the inclination to do so. It was not possible for me to live in Salt Lake City without being brought face to face with polygamy in some shape or other every day of my life.[183] Had it been otherwise, and if remaining at home would have kept it from my view, I probably never should have had the courage to enter a house where it was practised. To those who know nothing of that degrading system this may seem rather an exaggeration of feeling; and yet, even at that early day, I had seen so much of the folly and weakness of the Mormon brethren, both in London and New York, before we went to Utah, and had witnessed so many evil results of their teachings, that it was with the greatest difficulty that I could control my feelings sufficiently to call upon any family where there was more than one wife. And yet what I knew then was nothing in comparison to what I afterwards witnessed—yes, that I myself endured.
During the winter, although I visited very little, I attended a good many parties at the Social Hall; but I did so more from a wish to be agreeable to my husband than from any pleasure that they afforded me, for life had long since been losing almost all its charms for me. How many times have I gazed wistfully at those lofty mountains which surrounded the city, and felt that they were indeed my prison walls. How bitterly have I realized that I should never be able to go beyond them. But in a new country, with a family to provide for, a mother has not much time to waste in pining, even if it be for liberty itself, and I would willingly draw the veil over that portion of my life.
As my husband had been on mission for so many years and had spent all his time in the service of the Church, with the exception of a few brief months before we left New York—when he was engaged on the staff of the New York Herald—I naturally enough thought that when we reached Zion his occupation would be gone. There would be no need of preaching to the Saints: on the contrary they would be able to teach us; and we should have to find out what we could do in this new country to support ourselves and our children. In this I was not mistaken.
Now among the “absolutely necessary” things which I had brought with me from New York, were about three hundred dollars’ worth of millinery goods, which I had secreted among our other properties, thinking that they would very probably come in useful to the fair daughters of Zion—notwithstanding that the Elders had told me of fiery sermons, delivered by the Prophet himself, condemning all feminine display, and that the sisters would scorn to wear Gentile fashions. I knew my own sex too well to believe that all this was strictly true, and[184] I felt certain that I should find, even among the Saints, some weak sisters who would appreciate my thoughtfulness in bringing such articl............