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

by Mrs. T. B. H. Stenhouse

And so, according to Brigham Young, their Prophet, this was the religion of the Saints! And the people acted up to the “religion” thus taught: and the story is so terrible that one dare not even whisper all its details.

It is no secret that all this was understood literally. The wife of one Elder, when he was absent on a mission, acted unfaithfully towards him. Her husband took counsel of the authorities, and was reminded that the shedding of her blood alone could save her. He returned and told her, but she asked for time, which was readily granted. One day, in a moment of affection, when she was seated on his knee, he reminded her of her doom, and suggested that now when their hearts were full of love was a suitable time for carrying it into execution. She acquiesced, and out of love he cut her throat from ear to ear.

In many instances the outrages committed against persons who were known to be innocent were so revolting that no woman—nay, even no right-minded man—would venture to more than just allude to them. A few, however, and only a few, and they by no means the worst, of the milder cases I will just mention.

There was the murder of the Aikin party—six persons—who were killed on their way to California. The same year a man name Yates was killed under atrocious circumstances; and Franklin McNeil who had sued Brigham for false imprisonment and who was killed at his hotel door. There was Sergeant Pike, and there was Arnold and Drown. There was Price and William Bryan at Fairfield; there was Almon Babbitt, and Brassfield, and Dr. Robinson; there was also James Cowdy and his wife and child, and Margetts and his wife; and many another, too—to say nothing of that frightful murder at the Mountain Meadows.

Besides these there is good reason to think that Lieutenant Gunnison and his party were also victims, although it was said that they were shot by “Indians.” The Potter and Parrish murders were notorious; Forbes, and Jones and his mother, might be added to the same list; the dumb boy, Andrew Bernard; a woman killed by her own husband; Morris the rival Prophet, and Banks, and four women who belonged to their party; Isaac Potter, and Charles Wilson, and John Walker. These are but a few. The death list is too long for me to venture to give it.

One instance I can give from my own personal knowledge. A sister, who occasionally does a little work at my house, on one occasion said to me: “Mrs. Stenhouse, when first I came to this country I lived in the southern portion of Utah. One day I saw a woman running across the fields towards our house, pale and trembling. When she came in she looked round her as if she were frightened, and she asked if any one besides our own family were present. On being assured that there was no one present whom she might fear, she said:—‘Two men came to our house late last night and asked to see my husband, who had already retired. He was in bed, but they insisted that he must get up, as they had a message from “the authorities” for him. When they saw him they requested him to go with them to attend, they said, to some Church business. I became very much alarmed, for my poor husband had been known to speak rather freely of late of some of the measures of the Church, but he tried to reassure me, and finally left the house with the two men. In about an hour after they came back, bearing between them his lifeless body. They laid him upon the bed, and then one of them pulled aside the curtain which constituted our only cupboard, and took therefrom a bake-kettle and stood it beside the bed, in order to catch the blood that was flowing from a fearful wound in his throat. They then left the house, telling me to make as little noise about it as possible, or they might serve me in the same way. The men were masked, and I cannot tell who they are, but I spent a fearful night with my poor dead husband.’” This sister added: “Sister Stenhouse, in those more fearful times we dared not speak to each other about such things for fear of spies.”

These were all well-known and notorious instances. I say nothing of those of whose fate nothing—not even a whisper—was ever heard; and I say nothing of the frightful “cuttings off” before the Reformation and in recent years.

Gentile men and women were killed, for hatred; and that “killing” was no murder, for theirs was not innocent blood. Apostates, and Saints of doubtful faith, and those who were obnoxious, had their blood shed—all for love—and that “cutting off” was also no murder, because to secure their salvation by cutting their throats was an act of mercy. Can it be possible that men should thus act and say—and believe—that Jesus, the gentle and merciful Saviour, commanded it when He said: “Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself”?

All through this Reign of Terror, marrying and giving in marriage was the order of the day. It mattered not if a man was seventy years of age, according to Brother Brigham he was still a boy—“the brethren are all boys until they are a hundred years old”—and some young girl of sixteen, fifteen, or even younger would be “counselled”—that is, commanded—to marry him. She might even have a sister no older than herself, and then as likely as not he would take the two to wife, and very probably both on the same day. The girls were told that to marry a young man was not a safe thing, for young men were not tried—it was better to marry a well-tested patriarch, and then their chances of “exaltation” in the kingdom of heaven were sure and certain. In this way the life-long happiness of many a girl—little more than a child—was blighted for ever. At the time of which I speak, every unmarried woman, or girl who could by the utmost stretch of possibility be thought old enough to marry, was forced to find a husband, or a husband was immediately found for her, and without any regard to her wishes was forced upon her. Young men, and even boys, were forced, not only into marriage, but even polygamy, and none dared resist. The marrying mania, in fact, was universal and irresistible—everyone must marry or be given in marriage. So evidently was this the case that women in jest said that, if one were to hang a petticoat upon a fence-pole, half a dozen men would flock at once to marry it! Absurd as this may seem, it was not very far from the truth. Young men and maidens, old men and children, widows, virgins, and youths—in fact, every one, whether married or unmarried, it mattered not, was “counselled”—commanded—to marry.

There is above fanaticism a stronger law which, despite every effort of the deluded victim, will occasionally make itself heard—the voice of Nature. Even during that strange time in which every Saint seemed to have gone stark crazy mad, the frightful anomaly of men of fifty, sixty, and even seventy, marrying mere children—girls of fourteen, and even thirteen—forced itself upon the attention of some of the leaders. The question arose—an odd question to Gentile ears—“At what age is a girl old enough to marry?” Considerable discussion ensued, and even in the Tabernacle the subject was taken up. The voice of authority, however, eventually answered the matter, but not in the way that any ordinary civilized person would expect.