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

by Mrs. T. B. H. Stenhouse

After many days and nights of prayer and fasting I prepared myself for my work. To a certain extent I had brought my own self under control—or I thought I had; and I almost felt anxious to begin, so that I might get over the painful scenes which I fully anticipated. It was agreed that Madame Balif, of whom I have already spoken as being rather sceptical when my child recovered from her critical condition, should be the first to whom the intelligence should be imparted, for it was thought that if she accepted this Revelation without much difficulty, the other sisters would be more easily won over. She was a well educated and intelligent woman, and had seen a good deal of the world. She had met her husband while travelling in Russia, had married him, and they had returned to their native land. She was in every respect a lady, but she was a spoilt child, and had her whims; and she possessed a great influence over the minds of the other sisters. On this account it was that she was selected as the victim to whom should be first imparted the mysteries of the Revelation, for it was thought that whatever reception she might give to polygamy, her views would greatly influence the conduct of the rest.

As I before mentioned, Madame Balif and her husband were models of affection to one another, and it seemed to me quite a sin that I should introduce into such a household a doctrine which could only produce disunion and misery. I had, however, schooled my heart to what I thought was my duty, and I strove to smother the rebellion rising within me. But, after all, it seemed to me hardly fair that I should be selected for this painful task. These husbands had not courage enough, or were ashamed, to tell their own wives about this wonderful Revelation; and so I, a weak woman, hating in my heart the doctrine as much as a woman could hate—I was chosen to introduce this pleasant subject, and to persuade those I loved to their own ruin. I had had it all fully explained to me, and I thoroughly understood the beauties of the system in the sight of the elders, and what they considered the strong points in the Revelation;—but it is miserable work to try to convince others of a thing that you yourself detest.

One day, quite unexpectedly to her, they had told Madame Balif that a new Revelation had been sent from Zion, and that I would explain it to her; then Monsieur Balif left the house, and remained absent until the wife whom he so devotedly loved should have heard this new thing.

Madame Balif came down stairs singing, in her usual gay spirits, little expecting what she was going to hear; and when she came to me I felt so unfitted for my task that I dared not look her straight in the face, although she was my dearest friend, and I had such an affection for her. I stood there, pale and trembling, and she thought that I was not well. I was not indeed well; I was sick at heart. Never before had the face of a friend been so unwelcome.

She asked me what it was that I had to tell her; and when I hesitatingly denied having wanted to speak to her at all, she said she knew there must be something, as her husband had told her so.

I hesitated still; but at last found courage, and told her all. It was a cruel task to impose upon me. Day after day I had observed her and her husband, I had noticed their deep affection; had seen her watching at the window for his return; and he would come with a little offering of choice fruit or flowers; and I thought no woman could be happier than Madame Balif. And now for me to so cruelly awaken them from their dream of bliss!

She sat and listened eagerly as I told my story; and when at length she began to understand what was meant by it, she thought that I must be playing some unseasonable joke upon her, and showed as much in her countenance. But when she saw that I really was in earnest, she sprang up, and cried out, “Oh, my God! what a beastly religion! How dared your husband and you come to us Swiss with such a religion as that?” My eyes sank before her as she turned on me with mingled rage and disgust, as if she would wither me with her contemptuous looks. I felt as humbled as if I myself had been the author of the Revelation.

“And does my Serge believe this?” she cried.

I assured her that he did believe it, and she paced the room, to and fro, as if she would go crazy; my heart ached for her. She gave way to a perfect storm of rage, and then sobbed and cried like a child who had lost its mother. I was silent, for I knew how she must feel, and I felt that she would be relieved by tears. I had gone through the trial all alone, without one word from a woman’s heart that could reach my own. And I tried to comfort her. I remembered how I had felt myself, and I believed that thus it was now with her. In an instant, when I first realized that polygamy had anything to do with me, just as I have heard it said of dying men, all my past life rushed to my remembrance, and every word or deed of love therein, stood out in brightest reality. Thus I doubted not it was with my friend. Every tender word which her husband had ever uttered; every loving deed he had ever done, came to her recollection with a ten-fold dearness as she realized the horrors which awaited her in the future.