As I remember, about fifteen miles north of Beaver, we went down a long, serpentine hill. Rains had washed the old road into a deep gully. The new track above it was sidling and very rocky. In the front end of our wagon was a mess box, the lid being level with the top of the wagon bed. A sheepskin on this box formed my seat. As we reached the top of the hill, the wagon began to crowd the mules. I stopped to get out to lock the wheel with the chain fastened to the side of the wagon bed. As the team stopped, the ring in the neckyoke broke, letting the tongue down. The mules sprang forward with fright, and would have jerked me off the wagon; but Tamar, quick as a flash, placed her knees against the mess box, clasped her arms around my body and held me firm; while I, with a grip of iron, held the wagon bunt against the mules. Down the hill we went like a whirlwind, the end of the wagon tongue, in front of the mules, sending the cobble rock flying in every direction. On reaching the level flat, I succeeded in stopping the outfit, and no injury was done, save the shock of fright that we all received.
In 1856, in the Seaman's Bethel in Honolulu, I heard an anti-Mormon lecturer tell an audience that they could readily recognize the "polygamous children," for "they were born imbecile pigmies." No slander against my people could be fouler than this one. Utah's foremost citizens today are of polygamous lineage. Tamar was herself, a splendid refutation of this slander. Tamar's mother was a plural wife, and Tamar measured five feet eight inches in height, and weighed one hundred forty-five pounds. In disposition she was quiet and cheerful, yet in danger was quick and heroic. Here is a notable instance:
After I had lost my arm, in coming back from Mexico, while I was still feeble, when crossing the New Mexico desert, the Navajos were unfriendly. At Captain Toms Wash, they started in to rob us. A big buck, after making an inflammatory speech, sprang upon the wagon hub, caught hold of a sack of provisions to lift it from the wagon. As quick as a flash, Tamar struck him across the nose with a stick of wood. The blood spurted from both nostrils, and the brave, dropping the sack, got off the wheel quicker than he got on. For a moment my heart ceased to beat, for I expected trouble; but the warriors who witnessed the act, roared with laughter, and I soon saw that they were amused at the defeat, by a "squaw," of their windy-mouthed captain.
But it was in the home circle where she shone with the greatest brilliancy; not with a meteoric flare, rather with the continual glow of the summer's sunshine. Perhaps the darkest hour of my life was when I lost my arm, and fell penniless among strangers. But Tamar with a smiling face, nursed the mutilated man, and at the same time whirled the wheel of the washing machine; thus winning the bread that kept the breath of life in us. Tamar calmly and bravely met the responsibilities of married life, grateful for the gift of motherhood, and willing to sacrifice her own life, if need were, in order to give life to others. She believed and practiced the principle that "it is more blessed to give than to receive." I never was so weary or discouraged that her words would not rest and cheer me. She being younger than I by fifteen years, I fondly anticipated that my last hours would be comforted by her ministration.
I often hear the remark that "we never miss the water till the well goes dry," and that "we do not appreciate the loved ones until they are taken from us." Possibly I did not fully value the wealth I possessed in my family, but I always said—and it came from my heart—that God had blessed me with noble wives; that I became a better man through obeying the principle of plural marriage than I ever should have been without it. Joseph Smith was a prophet of God, and no other principle taught by him would have done as much for the uplift of the human family, on the plane of purity and righteousness. The men and women who practiced that principle were not sensual sinners, but they were strong, clean souls, willing to suffer, and die if need were, for the right as they saw the right.
I have partaken of the hospitality of the common people in England and in the United States. I have witnessed the love and happiness that abide in the Christian homes of these Christian nations; but never have I seen more perfect trust, confidence, and love without guile, than I have witnessed in some of the plural families of the Latter-day Saints. Take for instance the father who will give to his beloved daughter, as a parting benediction, "It is better to suffer wrong than to do wrong," and "it is more blessed to give than to receive," and you have a revelation of a clean heart, and a pure spirit.
It may not be possible for mortal man to teach truths as sublime as did the Christ, but if it be true that "from the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh," then that father possessed a pure heart, certainly the daughter to whom the precious admonition was given was a worthy child; and the diligent practice of those celestial ideals made Tamar B. Young a lovable mother and a peerless wife.
In conclusion, I will say that each of those three wives bore me seven children, making in all seventeen sons and four daughters. They were all strong and healthy children; not a weakling among them. Moreover they have all made honorable and virtuous men and women.
One of my sons, upon learning of the death of his mother, wrote:
"Oh, how thankful I am for my parentage; for the noble souls who gave me life! How I love them for the clean, uncontaminated body with which they blessed my spirit. No loathsome disease fastened to it, no craving for liquor and tobacco, as an hereditary hindrance to my progress. Oh, those noble women! Their crowns will be as bright, and will shine with a splendor equal to that of the Prince at whose side they walked unflinchingly through life, turning their sorrows into joy. Again, how thankful I am for my noble parentage!" And I add: