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

by Mrs. T. B. H. Stenhouse

We remained in Switzerland until the close of the year 1854, and through the unremitting efforts of my husband Mormonism was introduced into six cantons of the Confederation. Monsieur Balif became an indefatigable missionary, as was also Governor Stoudeman; and to their liberality and zeal Mr. Stenhouse was greatly indebted. With the aid of Monsieur Balif, he established in Geneva a monthly periodical in the French language, for the edification of the Saints, besides publishing a book in reply to the attacks of the clergy, and many minor effusions.

At that time there was great excitement among the Saints in Utah. Brigham Young and his apostles were denouncing the Gentiles in the most unmeasured language. As I write, a volume of sermons delivered at that time is before me, and I really can hardly credit that so much ridiculous nonsense, bad grammar, and blasphemy, could ever have been uttered in a public place of worship—yet it was so. The Saints were told that in these last times all the vials of the wrath of God were about to be poured upon the earth; wars and desolations, anarchy and persecution, fire, pestilence, and unheard of horrors, were to desolate all the world, until men should call upon the rocks to hide them, and in the bitterness of their souls curse the day in which they were born; death was to be sought for, but not found. Believing, as they did, that all this was true, it is no wonder that the Saints in Europe were alarmed, and became anxious to emigrate to Utah, where they were told they would be safe. A seven years’ famine was said to be at the door, when a sack of wheat should be sold for a sack of gold, and Gentile kings and princes were to come and crouch to the Saints for a morsel of bread. The very women in Zion were counselled to sell the ribbons from their bonnets, to buy flour with the proceeds, and to hide it away against the day of wrath.

The brethren and sisters in Switzerland who could dispose of their property hastened to “flee to Zion.” Some did so at a ruinous sacrifice. One gentleman, a Monsieur Robella, I knew, who was part proprietor of a newspaper and printing establishment. In a very short time it would have been entirely in his own hands; but he sold out at a great loss, dreading that the storm might overtake him before he reached the “chambers of the Lord in the mountains,” as the Elders called Salt Lake City.

The journey from Europe to Utah at that time occupied six or eight months; it was a very tedious pilgrimage. My Swiss friends had first to travel to Liverpool; thence by sailing vessel to New Orleans; by steamer up the Mississippi as far as St. Louis; up the Missouri to the frontiers; and then across the plains by ox-teams. Much of this distance had to be travelled during the worst part of the year. They left their homes while the Jura mountains were still draped in snow; and those who escaped the ravages of cholera and the perils of the ways, reached their destination just as the frosts of winter were beginning to whiten the hoary heads of the hills which stand about Zion.

All the Swiss pilgrims travelled together until they arrived at St. Louis; there they separated, one party going up the river, and the other making the journey overland. The cholera attacked the latter party, and cut off the greater number of them, and their bones now whiten the prairie.

The news of their death soon arrived in Switzerland, and the people at Lausanne were exasperated against the Mormon missionaries; and when my husband visited that place he found it prudent not to remain long. At the same time those of the Saints whose relations had perished in the emigration were pained to hear that it was because they “had not obeyed counsel,” and gone up the river with the other party, that they fell by the way. And, as if in mockery of this statement, the next news that we received was that a Missouri steamer, on board of which were many Mormon missionaries—all most obedient to counsel—had been blown to atoms. Many of the Saints began to consider these things, and their love waxed cold.

Through all this our position was anything but pleasant, and my husband applied for permission to be released from the presidency of the Swiss and Italian missions, in order that he might “gather to Zion.” His request was granted; and in the autumn of 1854 we bade a final adieu to Switzerland.

We might now be said to have begun our journey to Zion, although we tarried long by the way, and several years elapsed before we reached our destination.

When we arrived in London we obtained apartments in the house of the President of the London Conference, and there I had opportunities of observing the effects of the system upon the English Saints. Elder Marsden, the president, was a thorough Mormon, and a man who was very highly thought of. He had been acquainted with all the apostles and high priests who had resided in Liverpool—the great rendezvous of the Saints in England; had been President of the Conference there, and now occupied the highest position of the European mission. He was a pleasant, intelligent man, who in his day had done much to build up the church; but, like his two predecessors, John Banks and Thomas Margetts, he also apostatized from the Mormonism of later years. At the time, however, of which I speak, he was considered to be of good standing among the Saints.