DOMESTIC ARRANGEMENTS OF THE SAINTS:—POLYGAMY FROM A WOMAN’S STANDPOINT.  
I was now to realize personally, in my own home life, what Polygamy actually was. Hitherto I had observed how other women suffered, and how other men treated their wives; but now the painful reality had come to my own door, and I was to experience the effects of the system upon myself, and, instead of noting the conduct of other men, I should be able to observe the change which Polygamy might work in my own husband.
How little do the Mormon men know what it is in the truest sense to have a wife, though they have so many “wives” after their own fashion! Almost imperceptibly to the husband, and even to the wife herself, a barrier rises between them from the very day that he marries another woman. It matters not how much she believes in the doctrine of plural marriage, or how willing she may be to submit to it, the fact remains the same. The estrangement begins by her trying to hide from him all her secret sorrows; for she feels that what has been done cannot be undone now, and she says: “I cannot change it; neither would I if I could, because it is the will of God, and I must bear it; besides, what good will it do to worry my husband with all my feelings? He cannot help me; and is he not another woman’s husband?” Then comes, perhaps, the painful thought, “I have no longer any desire to confide in him.” Or it may be that she detects some familiarity between her husband and the other wife; and she feels bitterly towards both, for, strive as she may, human nature cannot be altogether crushed out.
That was a time of great misery to me, much as I tried to control my feelings. Day by day I strove to hide from my heart even the knowledge of my own unhappiness; and when I could no longer endure, I would lock myself in my room and give vent to the anguish that was consuming me. I realized, however, that this continual conflict of feeling was unfitting[300] me for my duties. Everything was becoming a trial to me. I could not bear to be spoken to; the prattle of my children, that had always been so dear to me, was now discordant to my feelings; and all their little questionings were irksome. I determined that this should no longer be the case; I would battle with my own heart; I would henceforth devote my whole life—worthless as that life appeared to have become—to the welfare of my little ones. This was a conclusion that hundreds of wretched Mormon wives have arrived at; and when this is the case, there is some hope for them. But many give way to despair, and go down broken-hearted to their graves.
How terribly these Mormon men deceive themselves! When peace, or rather quiet, reigns in their homes, they think that the Spirit of God is there. But it is not so. It is a calm not like the gentle silence of sleep, but as the painful stillness of death—the death of the heart’s best affection and all that is worth calling love. All true love has fled, and indifference has taken its place. The very children feel it. What do they, what can they, care about their father, whom they so seldom see?
Some wives, afraid of creating a prejudice against themselves and of being forsaken altogether, deceive their husbands, and make them believe that they are satisfied. It must be admitted that, in acting thus, these wives are not always actuated by a fear of losing the society or love of their husbands, for, in Polygamy, love dies a natural death; but it is galling to a woman’s pride to have it said that she has been cast off for another. Then, too—and some women would consider this the most important reason of all—the best provision is usually made for the home where the husband stops most frequently; and the wife, if not for her own sake, at least for her children’s, will be anxious to have a well-provided house. This is only natural. The “divine” plan has always been worked out in a very human way.
When a man has several wives, there is, of course, no necessity for him to stay with an unhappy or mopish one, as he can always find a more pleasant reception elsewhere. Men who can really believe that women are satisfied and happy under such a system must be entirely ignorant of human nature.
When a man has more than one wife, his affections must of necessity be divided; he really has no home in the truest sense of the word; his houses are simply boarding-places. Should he have all his wives in one house, as is often the case, they are then all slaves to the system; each one is watching the[301] others, and they know it—trying to discover something that can be secretly told to the husband to draw away his affections from the rest. What more miserable position could be imagined?
There is, however, no fixed principle regulating Mormon men in the management of their families; every one is at liberty to do as he thinks best, and scarcely two families are governed alike. When Salt Lake City was first settled, the people had to live as best they could, and a man was glad to get even one roof under which he and all his wives might be sheltered. Now, when the husband is wealthy, he generally provides separate homes for his wives. Some wealthy men, however, still have all their wives and families together.
I have in my mind, as I write, a very prominent Mormon, who has half-a-dozen wives; and he divides his time among them after this fashion. The first week he stays with the first wife; the next week he is with the second; then he goes back to the first. The fourth week he passes with the third wife; then he returns for another week to the first. And thus he continues to give one week to the first wife, and the next to one of the other five in turn, until he has blessed them all with his presence. Now, it would at a casual glance appear that this first wife has by far the largest share of her husband’s society; but if the truth must be told, it must be admitted that the husband is not quite so generous as he appears. The last wife of this good man is a young and pretty girl, and she lives with the first wife, and thus his devotion to the latter is rewarded by the presence of the former. Each of the other wives has one week of his society and attentions in every eleven—about five weeks apiece of companionship with their husband in the course of a whole year. Other men with the same number of wives pass constantly between one house and another; they can never be found when wanted; their lives are one eternal round, and they may be said to have no real abiding place.
In every settlement in Utah, long, low-roofed houses may be seen with a row of doors and windows alternating. Even in Salt Lake City, much as it has changed of late years, such houses may still be found. To every door and window there is, of course, a wife; and the furniture of her room consists of a bed, three chairs, and a table. Then, if the man is a very devout Mormon and wishes to increase his kingdom by adding another wife to the inhabitants of the long many-doored house, a waggon-box is so arranged as to form a sleeping apartment[302] for the new comer; or, what is more likely, one of the old wives is put into the waggon-box, and the new one takes her place.
A house with two wings is rather a favourite style with those men, who, to silence their conscience and the priesthood, conclude to take “just one extra wife,” and no more. The wives, with their children, occupy, respectively, each a wing; and the entrance-door opens into a parlour, which serves as a reception-room for both families. The husband in this case spends a week on one side of the house and a week on the other, alternately; and thus, by an impartial division of ............