Personally I had no objection to Clara’s lover. I had known him for several years. He was an intelligent, generous-hearted, and handsome man, of very good standing among the Saints, and wealthy. As a friend, I valued and esteemed him; but that he, a polygamist, should wish to marry my darling daughter, was very repugnant to my feelings. Clara was then growing old enough to understand my more serious thoughts and sentiments, and her companionship was very precious to me. The thought of her marrying into Polygamy was to my mind almost as painful as the thought of her death would have been.
My husband agreed with me that she was too young to marry; but on that point he could not offer any great objection, as his own wife, although very womanly in appearance, was but very little older in years. I told Joseph A. of my reluctance to the proposed marriage, and he fully entered into my feelings. I could not absolutely refuse him, but I wished to gain time. Every day found me more and more weak in the faith, and I thought that, if I could only postpone my Clara’s marriage for a few years, something might transpire which would relieve me of my difficulty.
Joseph promised to wait just as long as we thought proper, if only we would allow him to speak to Clara and explain to her the sentiments with which he regarded her. In this he acted in a way very unlike the Mormon men generally, and I respected him accordingly. I promised him that I would not influence my daughter, but would let her decide for herself. This, after much careful consideration, I came to the conclusion was all that I could do. My mind at that time was in a very troubled state. Day by day my doubts respecting the plural wife system became stronger and stronger, and I felt that before very long some great change must take place, both in my fate and in my life. At the same time, outward circumstances gave no promise of any such change. My husband gave no signs of apostasy, and, as a Saint, I knew he would never think of undertaking anything without the permission of Brother Brigham. We did not even dare to leave the city without consulting the Prophet. In times, then very recent, it was at the risk, and sometimes, indeed, at the sacrifice of life, that any one left Salt Lake Valley without permission; and even at the present moment no good Saint who values his standing in the Church would dream of going East without first obtaining the approval of Brigham Young. I could not, therefore, at the time of which I write, foresee the great changes which have since taken place. To refuse my daughter to the Prophet’s son would, I knew, be utterly useless. By partial submission I might gain some advantages; and the longer I postponed the marriage, the greater chance there was that “something” might turn up, which we all more or less look for when we are placed in circumstances which admit of the exercise of very little choice or effort.
My only objection against Joseph A. was, as I just stated, that he was a polygamist; but so long as we remained in the Church I could not openly allege this in opposition to the proposed marriage. If my Clara married a single man, there was every chance, if not an absolute certainty, that after a while he would take another wife, or wives. This had been the case with other girls with whom my child was acquainted. They had married single men, trusting that their influence over them would be sufficient to retain their affections ever to themselves alone; but they had soon reason to see how groundless their expectations and hopes had been. If, on the other hand, I gave my daughter to a polygamist, there was certainly no reason why Joseph A. should be refused. I felt surrounded on every side by difficulties, and out of them all I endeavoured to choose the least.
One day my husband told me that Brigham Young had seriously spoken to him about the matter, and had “counselled” him to let the marriage take place at once, saying that my Clara was quite old enough. After this, objection on my part would have been utterly unavailing. Everything was settled at the fiat of Brigham; and the feelings and judgment of a father and mother in respect of their own daughter were, of course, of not the slightest consequence.
The wedding-day was therefore fixed, when the sweet flower of my own quiet garden was to be transplanted to another home.
We went to the Endowment House—my husband, myself, and our daughter, together with some friends of the family. There we met with Joseph A. Young, the expectant bridegroom; his father, Brigham Young; Joseph A.’s first wife, Mary Young; and several of the brethren. The bride and bridegroom, and the bridegroom’s first wife, were all dressed in their Temple robes. We then entered a small room where the altar, of which I have already spoken, is placed. At the end of the altar, Brigham was seated in a large armchair covered with crimson velvet. The altar was also crimson. Brigham officiated. Joseph A.’s first wife, Mary Young, knelt in front of the long crimson altar; and my daughter Clara knelt beside her on a sort of faldstool or ledge, arranged for that purpose. Behind the altar knelt Joseph A. Brigham said: “Joseph, are you willing to take Clara Stenhouse to be your lawful and wedded wife for time and for all eternity?” Joseph answered, “Yes.” Then Joseph’s first wife was told to place the right hand of my daughter in the right hand of her husband, in token that she was willing; and then Clara was questioned, as Joseph had been. When she replied in the affirmative, Brigham said, “I pronounce you man and wife in the name of the Lord. Amen.” They were now married; and Brigham Young, Joseph A.’s first wife, and a few other friends, came home to the wedding breakfast, after which my daughter went to her own pleasant home.
Thus my worst fears were realized. My own daughter had become a polygamic wife; she was the fourth wife of her husband, Joseph A. Young.
It is a source of sorrow to any mother who really loves her children to lose them, even if it be for their own good and happiness; but in my own case there were reasons why I felt the loss of my daughter more than I should have done under ordinary circumstances. I felt quite desolate without her; for when left all alone, when my husband took his second wife, and when I had no one else to turn to, my little daughter had entwined herself about my heart in a thousand sweet and loving ways. She knew how great an influence music had over me, and how much I loved to hear her play and sing; and when she saw how sad my heart was, or caught me in tears, she would go to her piano, and lure me to her side by some sweet song which she knew was dear to my memory. But with her went all that love and gentleness which in my time of deepest trouble sustained me and kept me from absolute despair.
I have often wondered whether Joseph ever realized how great, how dear a gift, I bestowed upon him when I gave him my little Clara. But in saying this I do not mean to cast the shadow of a doubt upon his true-heartedness and love towards her. He was always kind and thoughtful, considering her comfort in everything; and although they have now been married seven years, he has never changed, but is the same to her as on the first day of their marriage. A good, kind, and gentle husband he has ever been, anticipating her every wish, tenderly and carefully guarding her from even a painful thought. My only regret has been that he is a polygamist, and she a polygamic wife.