An Englishwoman in Utah: The Story of a Life's Experience in Mormonism

by Mrs. T. B. H. Stenhouse

A friend of mine was in a state of apostacy. The Bishop went to her to expostulate, and told her that, if he were her husband, he would get rid of her and take away her children as well—he would not on any account live with her.

“Perhaps,” she said, “you would not allow me to live at all?”

“Certainly not,” he replied. “I would think about as much of killing you or any other miserable Apostate as I would about killing a cat. If Brigham Young were to tell me to put you to death, I would do it with the greatest of pleasure;—and it would be for your good, too.”

Thus, when the famous Revelation on Polygamy says that a man cannot be pardoned for shedding innocent blood, it does not mean that he cannot be pardoned for murdering a Gentile or an Apostate; for that, under some circumstances, might even be meritorious; but that the murder of a Saint by one of the brethren cannot under any circumstances be forgiven on earth, and that his only chance of forgiveness lies in his own blood being shed as an “atonement.”

Certain sins cannot be forgiven here on earth—shedding innocent blood, divulging the secrets of the Endowment House—marital unfaithfulness on the part of the wife—Apostacy;—these are unpardonable. All other crimes which Gentiles abhor may become even virtues, if done in the cause of the Church. I do not, of course, mean to say that the mass of the Mormon people act up to such atrocious doctrines; for although, when among themselves, they would admit that the theory was correct, the better instincts of their nature keep them from ever putting that theory into practice. But what I do mean to say is, that such doctrines have, over and over again, been distinctly taught in the plainest words in the public hearing of thousands; that they have been printed and reprinted by authority; that they have been practised, and the very highest of the Mormon leaders have applauded; and that, even at the present moment, these doctrines form part of the dogmas of the Church. It is this day a matter of fact, and not a matter of question, that if any Mormon Apostate were to commit any of the unpardonable sins which I have mentioned, and if he or she were to be assassinated by a private individual, all zealous Mormons—all the leaders—would maintain that not only was the deed justifiable but even meritorious!

This may seem bad enough, but it is not the worst. The doctrine of the “Blood Atonement” is that the murder of an Apostate is a deed of love! If a Saint sees another leave the Church, or if even he only believes that his brother’s faith is weakening and that he will apostatize before long, he knows that the soul of his unbelieving brother will be lost if he dies in such a state, and that only by his blood being shed is there any chance of forgiveness for him; it is therefore the kindest action that he can perform toward him to shed his blood—the doing so is a deed of truest love. The nearer, the dearer, the more tenderly loved the sinner is, the greater the affection shown by the shedder of blood—the action is no longer murder or the shedding of innocent blood, for the taint of apostacy takes away its innocence—it is making atonement, not a crime; it is an act of mercy, therefore meritorious.

These were the terrible teachings which the “Reformation” brought to light:—they had been whispered before among the elect, and had been acted upon by the “Avenging Angels,” but before this they had never been publicly and intelligibly explained.

Jedediah M. Grant, an enthusiast of the wildest kind; a man without education or mental discipline of any description; one of the First Presidency and high in authority among the Saints, had occasion to attend a meeting which was held at Kaysville, a place about twenty-five miles distant from Salt Lake City, and he invited some of the Elders to meet him there to take part in the proceedings. To one of these “Jeddy,” as he was familiarly called, obligingly lent a mule; he himself did not accompany the party, but went on before. These elders were pretty well mounted, and one of them, being a good horseman, made the rest keep up with him. In consequence of this, when they arrived at Kaysville, the beasts were heated and tired. The Apostle “Jeddy” watched them but said nothing.

Up to a certain point, the meeting passed off pleasantly enough; the Elders present were “good at testimony” and strong in exhorting the hearers to faithfulness. Jeddy was the last speaker. He began in his usual way, but presently warmed up until he became quite excited, and then proceeded to accuse every one present of all sorts of wrong-doing. The Elders who had preceded him came in for their full share; he denounced them for their inconsistency and hypocrisy, and bitterly upbraided them for running his mule and their own beasts in such a manner. The Bishop of the place and his counsellors he accused of inactivity and carelessness; and he called loudly upon every one present to repent and do their first works; threatening them with the speedy judgments of Heaven.

All this was well enough if it had stopped there, for it might have been taken for just what it was—an ebullition of temper on the part of “Jeddy,” who was naturally vexed that his mule had been over-heated. But, like many other manias and epidemics, this Mormon movement began with a most insignificant trifle, and the spirit of fiery denunciation became perfectly contagious. Another meeting was held in the course of a few weeks, and then the mutual accusations of those who were present became, if possible, more bitter than before; the “Saints” were denounced as the vilest of sinners, and they were all commanded to be re-baptized. Accordingly, after the meeting, although it was night and the weather was cold, a considerable number were immersed by the Elders, and Jeddy himself was so enthusiastically engaged in the performance, and he remained in the water so long that he got a thorough chill, and contracted the disease of which he died.