CHAPTER VI.
MY HUSBAND’S MISSION—I AM LEFT ALONE.
When the Apostle Snow called upon Mr. Stenhouse to go to Italy, the Saints willingly accepted the responsibility of providing for me during his absence.
They thought it was more an honour than a burden to have this charge committed to them; but it was very humiliating to me to be placed in such a position, however anxious they might be to assist me and to serve the general cause. To face opposition, or to give my all for my religion, I was willing indeed; but to depend upon others for my daily bread was utterly repugnant to my feelings, although, of course, if the Church sent away my husband, whose proper place and duty it was to support his family, it was only right that the members of that Church should undertake the responsibility. But then, and at many other times during my life, I have learned the truth of Christ’s precept, “It is more blessed to give than to receive.”
The American Apostle was not without worldly wisdom when he proposed that an unmarried man should be appointed to preside over the Southampton Conference, as his wants would be few. But Mr. Stenhouse had been solicited by a friend, who had a wife and children, to secure his appointment; and with ready confidence in that friend, he overlooked his own interests and my welfare, and I was left to pass through trials and privations which I can never forget.
The Saints were very kind, and took pleasure in doing all they could for me; but the mistake which my husband committed in leaving his friend to succeed him as president of the Conference was soon apparent. The “friend” thought of his own family first, and the family required all that the Saints could reasonably be expected to contribute; and even then they had not enough. I therefore received only such little sums as could be withheld from them; and to make the matter worse, those who had any property or estate were counselled to sell all, and “gather to Zion.” The more wealthy Saints were soon gone; and the current expenses of the church fell heavily upon those who were hardly able to support their own families.
They tried to send me something every week, and I have no doubt they did send me all that they could. When their contributions reached four or five shillings (about $1) I thought myself fortunate; more often I did not receive the value of fifty cents in the whole week, at times less, and sometimes nothing at all. That unfailing comfort to respectable English poverty, a cup of tea, was my greatest luxury, but at times for weeks together I had not even that; I had nothing but bread; but I never complained.
Whenever it was possible I concealed my true situation from every one, and in my almost daily letters to my husband not a shadow of a hint was ever dropped relative to my own privations. I wanted him to be successful in his mission, and I feared that his energy would desert him if he knew of my difficulties. I was in extreme poverty, certainly, but for myself I was not in trouble. God would provide for me, I felt; and it was glorious to suffer in a sacred cause.
But darker days, days of severer trial, were creeping slowly near me. Up to this time I had worshipped God and loved my husband with a perfect heart. Now the dark shadow of an accursed thing was looming in the distance, and approaching surely if slowly.
In some way an idea had got abroad that the Mormons were somewhat unsound respecting the marriage question. Still the elders stoutly denied the charge, and the more they were accused the more strenuous became their denials.