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

by Mrs. T. B. H. Stenhouse

For whatever the Apostle Taylor may have contributed to these unfortunate persons—whether in “counsel,” money, or provisions—he will doubtless have his reward; and, for aught I know, he may have been unable to give anything more than counsel; but, at the same time, my opinion of the value of counsel remains unchanged. There has been no lack of “counsel” or counsellors in the Mormon Church. “Counsel” has been given in abundance to all, and by no means always for the benefit of those who received it. It was not, however, because he failed to assist them practically that the people hated the Apostle Taylor, and have hated him ever since; but it was for his pride and arrogance, and the way in which he dared to talk to free-born Englishmen and Englishwomen about the dignity of the Priesthood, and the contempt in which he held them in the hour of their humiliation and distress—for that they hated him.

I do not, of course, wish to justify the people in begging; such conduct would have been despicable if they could have found employment of any sort. But when I saw the starving condition of those men and their helpless families, in that wretched school-house, in my heart I almost honoured them for having the courage to beg; and I thanked God that the “mean Yankee Gentiles”—as the Elders taught the Saints to call American citizens who did not believe in Mormonism—were able and willing to assist them.

One of those emigrants very recently related to me some of the painful circumstances through which he passed at that time. He told me that he walked the streets of Williamsburgh for three days and three nights without a mouthful of anything to eat, or a place to lay his head;—he could obtain no work, and at length, in sheer desperation, he was forced to beg. The Church authorities knew well the misery of the people, but took no adequate steps to alleviate it.

During the first weeks after our arrival in New York city, we had nothing to depend upon but the provisions which we had saved from the ship’s rations. I had known what it was to be in a foreign country without money and without food; and on board ship I took care of our rations when they were not consumed by Harry or “the rats;” for I thought that if I did not need them—which, indeed, I sincerely hoped might be the case—I could certainly find some one who would be thankful for them. These rations consisted chiefly of sugar that was almost black; very bad black tea, which when made looked like dye; the poorest kind of sea-biscuit; and other things accordingly. The provisions for the Mormon emigrants were purchased in bulk by the Church authorities, who made their own profits out of them, and the Apostle at Liverpool had the benefit of all that could be saved out of them during the voyage. It was commonly said among the people that the sight of them alone was quite sufficient for any one who was not half-starved; and yet they had paid the price of the best.

We had been in New York several weeks when one day my husband called at the office of a paper called The Mormon, and there met with the Apostle Taylor, who conducted that paper. The Apostle expressed great regret that Mr. Stenhouse should be without occupation at that season of the year, and with a family of children upon his hands. This sympathy, coming from a brother Missionary was, I thought, very tardy, for my husband had then devoted over ten years of his life to the cause, and his record in the Church had been untarnished. The Apostle was living in an elegant house, surrounded by every comfort and luxury, while he knew that we had not so much as a chair, or even a bed to lie upon. What had he done for the Church more than my husband had done? Indeed, I firmly believe that he had not endured half so much, but—he was an Apostle! His unhelping sympathy appeared to me a little more than questionable.

He told my husband that he might come into the office of The Mormon, and write the addresses on the wrappers, and that he would give him a few dollars a week “to help things along,” until something better presented itself. My husband thought this a disinterested action on the part of the Apostle John Taylor, but my experience in Mormonism led me to be distrustful and suspicious of everything that an Elder or Apostle said or did. This offer, however, came when we really had nothing to look to, and dared not refuse any assistance that was offered, however small it might be. But I must admit that my ideas of Apostolic liberality were very much shocked when at the end of the week Mr. Stenhouse informed me that he had been allowed four dollars for his services, and that out of that magnificent sum the Apostle John Taylor had deducted twenty-five cents which sheer necessity had compelled him to borrow for the week’s ferriage.

The Apostle-editor had two assistants from Utah with him in The Mormon office—the one a “Seventy,” and the other a “High-Priest”—terms and titles which I shall presently explain. A few weeks after my husband entered the office, the “Seventy” who had charge of getting out the paper was allowed to return to Zion. The High-Priest remained in the Eastern States visiting alternately the various branches of the Church, and doing some very zealous courting with a young English girl who lived in Williamsburgh, while his two unsuspecting wives at home in Salt Lake City were earnestly praying the Lord to bless him in his “mission.”

Whatever the Apostle may have thought of his associate, he could not very well remonstrate with him, for he himself was, and had been for some time, doing a good deal in that line with an amiable Connecticut girl, and was only waiting for special permission from Brigham Young, to add her to the half-dozen wives he already had in Utah.

There was, moreover, another High-Priest attached to that office, but no one seemed to understand his exact position. To all appearance his principal occupation was travelling from New York to Connecticut and from Connecticut back again to New York. He was a very robust-looking man, but it was reported that he was troubled with heart-disease, and that the purer air of Connecticut was a great relief to him. This I fully believed when, some time after, I discovered that the young lady engaged to the Apostle had a charming sister, for I thought it very probable that she rendered no small assistance to the Connecticut air in giving relief to his diseased heart.

My husband not being at that particular time under the influence of “heart-disease,” soon became very useful on the editorial staff. In fact, pretty well everything was left to him, and not unfrequently for two or three days he saw nothing of the Apostle or either of his associates, and the whole responsibility of getting out the paper—at the magnificent salary of four dollars a week!—rested upon him. He was told that he must regard it as a mission, and be prepared to act accordingly.