All the lesser Mormon merchants were “counselled” to sell out their stock to the Church, for just what the Church chose to offer them, or dispose of it otherwise as best they could, and then they might go farming, or on mission, or anything else; but sell out they must, for they were plainly told that they would not be allowed to carry on business in opposition to the new Institution.
Now, instead of benefiting the poorer Saints, by supplying goods to them at a small advance upon cost prices, as was at first proclaimed to be the object of the “Co-op”—as the Institution was briefly and familiarly called—the reverse was the case, for competition was altogether banished. All the trade of the Gentile merchants—with one or two exceptions—was forcibly taken from them, for the people were not to trade in any store without first looking to see if the sign of the Institution—a picture of “The All-seeing Eye,” and the words “Holiness unto the Lord” were over the doorway. How often I have seen groups of country people straggling along, with their heads thrown back and their eyes straining aloft in eager quest of that sign, although perhaps their purchases would only amount to a few yards of ribbon or a paper of pins!
No one can predict what the Church—otherwise Brigham—will do, if money should chance to tempt him. In this case, the parent Co-operative store turned, as I might say, traitor to the Ward-stores—its own children—for no sooner had they all been established, and had bought up all the old stock from the parent store, than it was whispered abroad that the latter was about to open in the retail line with a splendid stock of new goods—to suit the Gentiles, of course; for the Saints were not allowed to trade outside of their own Ward-stores, where they were expected to buy up all the old goods. In fact, in order to gain Gentile trade and fill the pockets of Brigham and the leading Elders who really constituted the Institution (and do so still), the same prices were asked at the parent store as had been charged the poor confiding stock-holders of the Ward-stores at wholesale. This, of course, caused great dissatisfaction, and many of the Saints rebelled, declaring they would go where they pleased to spend their money, when they had any to spend. The Ward-stores, in consequence, were obliged, at great loss, to lower their prices, and many were utterly ruined. Others which had more capital tided over the difficulty, and learned a lesson concerning the honesty of the Church leaders which it is to be hoped did them good.
As an example of the way in which matters were managed, I may instance a very old and infirm woman who was one of their victims. She came to me one day and said, “Sister Stenhouse, will you buy out my stock in the Co-operative store? Our store has failed, and I have my twenty-five dollars’ worth in my basket. I pitied her and asked her to let me see her stock, and thereupon she brought out a pound and a half of nails! I did buy out her stock, for I thought that the nails might be handy to have in the house, although I did not give her twenty-five dollars for them. Another person—a Frenchman, whom I knew—bought a share, and when he saw certain ruin looming over his Ward-store, he went to the head-quarters and purchased twenty-five dollars’ worth of goods, and having got them all secured, laid down his shareholders’ receipt in payment and beat a hasty retreat. He was a fortunate man and acted prudently, but alas! for the poor souls who ventured all their little savings in these Church “Institutions” and then were left to poverty and starvation.
About this time, also, it was that the Mormon women, under the auspices of Eliza R. Snow and the Female Relief Society, got up a petition to Mrs. Grant, begging her to use her influence with the President in favour of a toleration of Polygamy. The names to that petition were affixed without any reference to propriety or right. Hundreds of names were copied from the books of the Society without any permission being obtained, or even asked, of their owners. It was then, as I before stated, that the names of the dead were actually added as subscribers to the petition; and in one case, when a lady mentioned that her dead daughter had never belonged to the Church, as she died before her mother heard of Mormonism, she was told that her daughter would now, of course, have found out that Polygamy was the true order of domestic life in heaven, and that she would certainly be willing to subscribe if she could return to earth. Her name was, therefore, added without any further ceremony, although she had been dead a good many years.
In January, 1872, a counter-petition was got up by the Gentile and Apostate ladies. It set forth the cruel bondage which Polygamy inflicts upon women; spoke of the heartless conduct of the Mormon leaders, and of the murders and other foul crimes which had been committed by them or at their instigation; showed that, should Utah become a State, under the name of Deseret—which has ever been the ambition of Brigham Young—there would be no protection for life or property; stated that the authorities themselves had declared that when statehood was conferred, Gentiles and Apostates would have good cause to tremble; and, finally, prayed the National Government to stretch forth its long arm of power for the defence and protection of honest and law-abiding citizens. This petition was signed by four hundred and forty ladies of Utah, most of them members of the Mormon Church, whose real names were all fairly and openly affixed by their own selves. It was presented to the Senate by the Hon. Schuyler Colfax—then Vice-President; was read, discussed, and ordered to be printed. As might be supposed, it excited a great deal of angry discussion on the part of the Church authorities; and the following Sundays the names of those who had signed were read out in the Tabernacle, and strong remarks made upon their conduct, in order to intimidate them and prevent others from following their example. The consequence was that many of their husbands and sons were threatened with loss of employment, and they were thus forced to retract.
That same year a bill was brought into the Territorial Legislature, providing that boys of fifteen years of age and girls of twelve might legally contract marriage, with the consent of their parents or guardians! In stating this disgraceful fact, I feel certain that the reader who has never lived among the Saints, and is not versed in Utah affairs, will think that I must be mistaken in what I say. It is, however, I am sorry to say, only too true, and the records of the Legislature will bear me witness.
With the exception of the little literary efforts which I have made from time to time to expose through the press the iniquity of the “Celestial Order of Marriage,” no event of more than personal and private interest has, since I left the Mormon Church, interrupted the even tenor of my life. Last year, however, I was able to deal another blow—weak, it might be, but still it was a blow—directed at that false system against which I have sworn eternal enmity. I lectured upon Mormon Polygamy in Washington and Boston, and other large cities, and attempted in my humble way to attract the attention of the Gentile world to the iniquities of that terrible superstition which, in Utah, has degraded womanhood and wrecked the happiness of thousands of my deluded sisters. I met with sympathy everywhere; and then, as now, I resolved that efforts like these I would never relax until, if God spared my life, I should see the last stone in the fabric of Mormonism overturned and Mormon Polygamy counted among the sins and follies of the past.
His literary work accomplished, my husband returned to Salt Lake City. Looking back over the past, our Missionary life and our faith in Brighamism seems like a dream, so difficult is it for us to realize that we ever submitted our souls to the slavery of the Priesthood or placed any credence in that mass of folly, superstition, and licentiousness, known as Mormonism. During all his efforts to obey counsel and build up a “kingdom,” my husband, I know, never ceased to love me. For the misery which he then, in—as I firmly believe—his conscientious endeavours to live his religion, inflicted upon me, I have long ago freely and fully forgiven him. I think that during all that time he never ceased to entertain the fondest affection for me; and, if he was foolishly confiding in those who he believed were divinely authorized and speaking by inspiration, can I blame him when I remember that I myself was actuated by the same faith?