saintly pilgrims on the way—the “divine” hand-cart scheme.
one sunday morning in early spring i attended a meeting of the saints in williamsburgh.
my husband was there, and took part in the service, and so did the apostle taylor, and one or two other utah elders. i went to that meeting in a very desponding state of mind, for our prospects since the day of our arrival had not brightened very much, and i felt the need of some comforting and cheering words.
whether it was the influence of the clear spring morning, or that the elders had noticed the depression of spirit among the saints, i cannot tell, but i know that on that particular occasion their words seemed to me more earnest and encouraging than they had been for a long time past.
as we came out from the meeting, brother benton, one of the elders, stepped up to my husband, and said, “brother stenhouse, they are expected to arrive to-night or to-morrow; i suppose you will be down at the ‘gardens’ to meet them.”
i knew well enough who “they” were who were expected to arrive, and so did mr. stenhouse. “yes,” he said, “of course i shall be there, but most likely we shall have to wait a few days before they come.” then he stopped and talked over the matter with elder benton.
now it chanced that at that time brigham young was trying an experiment. the “prophet of the lord” sometimes finds it necessary—notwithstanding the “revelations” which he is supposed to receive—to try experiments like other men before he can feel sure that his plans are likely to succeed. the only difference between him and other men is, that he—knowing himself that his plans are his own inventions, or the inventions of the leaders—gives out that they come direct from god, thereby deceiving the ignorant, innocent, and confiding[112] people; and when his plans fail, as they often do, he never confesses that he is wrong or mistaken, but lays all the blame on some other person, or, failing that, on “the lord” or the devil. other men, as a rule, say nothing about “the lord” or devil, but when their experiments fail they frankly confess that they themselves were not inspired, but were liable to err. that is all the difference.
in the present instance brigham young tried an experiment upon a rather large scale.
up to the year 1856 the mormon emigrants made the journey from the frontiers across the plains by ox-teams, as i have already described, and every season some of the wealthier mormons formed themselves into an independent company, paid their own expenses, and travelled with more comfort. the expense to the poorer emigrants was very small, for they performed the greater part of the journey on foot—the ox-teams being used for transporting provisions and baggage—one hundred pounds of the latter being allowed to each emigrant.
this “plan” was, so far, a success, and the settlements of the saints increased thereby, slowly but surely, in population and wealth. there were, however, at that time, thousands of saints in europe anxious to emigrate, but who were too poor to provide the small sum requisite for that purpose. during the winter of 1855 this difficulty was discussed in conference by brigham and the leading men in salt lake, and some one suggested what was afterwards known as the “hand-cart scheme.” the idea of this “scheme” was to transfer the people from liverpool to the frontiers in the cheapest possible way, and for them then to cross the plains with light-made hand-carts, just strong enough to carry the fewest possible necessary articles, but sufficiently light for the men, women, and even young girls, to draw them.
this “plan” would not perhaps have been a bad one if it had been properly carried out, and if brigham young had seen, as he might have done, that suitable preparations were made beforehand. but the hand-cart emigration scheme began with a lie and ended in ruin.
the confiding saints were told that “god” had specially inspired his servant brigham for this purpose, and the scheme was a revelation direct from on high.—no proper measures were taken to provide for the emigrants—all was done upon faith—faith on the part of the people in their—as they supposed—inspired leaders; deception on the part of those[113] leaders towards the people, whose only fault was that they trusted them too well.
the millennial star proclaimed the “plan” to the saints in europe, and so great was the response to this special summons that in that year—1856—it was roughly estimated that no fewer than five or six thousand mormon emigrants travelled from liverpool to salt lake city. it was the first company of these emigrants that brother benton alluded to when he told mr. stenhouse that “they” were expected that night or the next; but in those days emigrant vessels were frequently delayed by adverse winds and other circumstances, and no one could calculate upon the exact time of their arrival in port.
the following morning, my husband, when he returned from the mormon office, brought with him a letter bearing the english postmark, and addressed to me in the neat unmistakable handwriting of mary burton. i had been waiting and watching for a letter from her ever since our arrival; i was anxious to hear from her, and i hastily tore it open, so impatient was i to know how she was getting on. what i read interested me deeply, though it did not surprise me. i had seen mary many times after the interview which i have already related, and our conversations and discussions were to us of all-absorbing interest; but as they were mostly personal i have not cared to record them in this narrative. to tell the truth, her love affairs with elder shrewsbury occupied more and more the most prominent place in all our discussions. his enthusiasm was perfectly infectious. as long as mary absolutely refused to see him, her love for him and her faith in mormonism were anything but overpowering. but elder shrewsbury was one of those peculiar persons who have a sort of magnetic charm about them; who, without our knowing it, or even, in some instances, contrary to our will and reason, enlist all our sympathies and leave behind them an impression that we vainly try to efface. he only wanted opportunity, and his success was sure.
opportunity he had had for pressing his suit with mary and making an impression upon her heart, ever since the day when they met at my door, and had taken that walk together, as mary said, for the purpose of discussing important matters.
now the letter which i received opened to me another chapter in mary’s life, which without the gift of prophecy i might have easily predicted. elder shrewsbury’s patience[114] and perseverance met with their due reward, and mary at length promised to become his wife; but fascinated though she was, and herself almost as deeply in love as he was, she nevertheless made one condition which showed that she had not entirely lost that prudence and determination which she had shown in the early days of their courtship.
“when he spoke to me in that way—you know how, sister stenhouse”—she said in her impulsive way, “how could i persist in saying no to him? it wasn’t in my heart to do so. i didn’t say ‘yes’ in so many words, but i simply said nothing, and he took my silence for consent. then—but no, i won’t even tell you everything.... i know he thought he was going to have it all his own way; but i didn’t think so. i told him then that i had firmly resolved upon one thing—that i never would marry him unless he made a solemn vow and promise before god that he would never enter into polygamy. i could not hide from him that i loved him—he knew it and could see it; but i said i never would go to utah alone, and i certainly never would marry at the risk of my husband taking another wife. no; i was willing to give him my heart, my all—it was only fair for him to do the same by me.... he was very near me then, and my hand was in his; and he was looking into my eyes. then he whispered the promise i had asked of him, and, dear sister stenhouse, i know i can depend upon his word. we shall be happier in this world by ourselves, and we feel quite sure that god will not ask us to do anything in heaven that would make us miserable. perhaps i oughtn’t to say this, but i’m so happy that i cannot allow myself one single wretched doubt about the future or my husband, such as i used to have.... we were married on the 27th of january....
“and now we are getting ready for zion, and are busy day and night. of course you have heard of the “divine plan”—the hand-cart scheme. oh, sister stenhouse, i am so very, very much ashamed of myself for all the wicked things that i used to say about the apostles and the elders. since our marriage, elder shrewsbury has explained everything to me, and set things in their right light. it is a glorious privilege for us to be permitted to gather to zion, and now that i know my dear husband will never even think of another besides myself, i glory in the thought of leaving the gentile world and all its wickedness....
[115]
“we go with the first company this season.
“i will tell you all the rest of the news when i meet you, dear.”
so mary burton was married, and coming with the hand-cart company. “why,” i said, turning to my husband, “they’ll be here in a day or two now.”
“perhaps to-day,” he replied.
they did not, however, arrive either that day or the next; but towards the end of the week we were told that their vessel was in the river, and i accompanied my husband to castle gardens to see them.
a strange spectacle was presented to our view. more than six hundred mormon emigrants were gathered there, all on their way to zion, and burning with zeal and enthusiasm worthy of a better cause. there were aged men and women, whose heads were hoary with the snows of many a winter, and whose tottering steps had borne them to the verge of three score years and ten; there were stout-hearted fathers and families, and matrons with sons and daughters growing up around them; there were young men in the pride and strength of manhood; and maidens in the modest blush of womanly beauty; and little toddling children, and babes in their mothers’ arms—all obedient to what they thought was the command of god himself—all with their faces set steadfastly and anxiously zionward.
let not the reader smile at the blind infatuation of those poor emigrants. would he or she have suffered so confidingly—so faithfully—for his or her religion? they might be mistaken; but truly theirs was a faith which “hoped all things, believed all things, endured all things.” surely, in his sight—who judges the heart—the blind obedience of those men and women who were ready to suffer and to endure unto the bitter end, because in their child-like faith they thought that it was his holy will—such practical devotion was more truly acceptable than the formal professions of an untested faith.
i met at castle gardens many whom i had known in the old country; but it was one particular face which i was anxious to see. a man wrapped in a thick great coat, and with a fur cap upon his head, brushed against me; and before i had time to raise my eyes, my hand was grasped in his, and i heard mary’s husband say, “oh sister stenhouse, i’m so glad to see you; i knew we should meet you in new york. come and see mary. she’s my mary now!”
[116]
i went with elder shrewsbury and i saw mary. but oh, how greatly was she changed! when i returned from our swiss mission and saw her after an interval of several years, i was, of course, struck with the alteration which had then transformed her from a pretty little fairy-like girl into a decorous young lady contemplating matrimony; but although i had now been absent from england only a few months, i observed a much more striking alteration in her than on the previous occasion. it was not now, i thought, so much an outward and personal change, as a new development of her inner consciousness—her soul itself. her form was as graceful, and her eyes as bright as ever; but from those eyes there now shone forth another light than that which i had thought so charming in the by-gone time.
her affection for me was as warm and demonstrative as when we first met. she recognized me in a moment, before her husband had time to say a word; and, throwing both her arms round me, she kissed me again and again with all the effusion of her childish days. taking my hand she led me gently into a quiet corner and seated me beside her on a big trunk, and then she began to talk. it was the same soft sweet voice again, which used to be so dear to me when i was left all alone in southampton, soon after my marriage, while my husband was on mission in italy.
she told me all the story of her courtship—all, and much more, than she had told me in her letter. but it was when she came to speak of her marriage, of her husband, and especially of their pilgrimage to utah, that i observed more especially the change which had taken place in her. she was no longer the light-hearted girl, half-doubting her strange religion, and rejecting it altogether when it did not coincide with her own ideas and wishes. no: elder shrewsbury—had he been ten times a mormon elder—could not have wished for a more obedient, a more earnest, i might say, a more fanatical believer than was now to be found in his young and beautiful wife. her eyes really glowed with enthusiasm as she spoke of “the work of the lord” and of “gathering to zion;” and her voice, though soft and sweet as ever, had in it, now and then, a tinge of sternness which told of a determination and spirit which the casual observer would never have suspected.
i expressed some surprise that she and her husband, not being without funds, should have gone with the hand-cart company when they might have waited and have gone with so much more comfort with one of the independent companies.
[117]
“why, sister stenhouse,” she said, “we have done it as a matter of faith. certainly we could have afforded to go in any way we chose, but my husband said we ought to be an example to the poorer saints; so we gave away nearly all our money to help the emigration fund, and then we came, just as you see us, along with the rest.”
“but the danger and discomfort is so great,” i suggested. “surely the lord does not want us to sacrifice ourselves when no one is benefitted by it?”
“not a bit,” said she; “there’s no danger, sister stenhouse, and if there were it would only please me all the more. as for discomfort, why we should have had that any way, and we both glory in making sacrifices. besides which, we have been told by the apostle that this will be the most pleasant and successful journey across the plains that has ever been made.”
“i am a little doubtful of the promises of apostles and elders,” i said; “and i remember, mary, when you used to agree with me.”
“i know i did,” she answered; “but brother shrewsbury has shown me how wrong i was—i never doubt now. but i think you have a wrong notion about this hand-cart scheme. it is not an ordinary plan such as any man might have made. god himself revealed this plan to brigham, and in fact we call it ‘the divine plan’ in our songs. oh, you should hear our songs! they’re a little rough, but the singing is so earnest and the voices of the men and girls blend so well together, that i know you’d like them. there’s only one thing that i don’t like about this plan, and that i daresay is all right if only i knew it.”
“i think, mary,” i said, “i could tell you a good deal that you wouldn’t like if you knew it.”
“no, dear,” she replied hastily, as if afraid to hear me, “don’t tell me unpleasant matters. i’ll tell you all i meant. the prophet and heber c. kimball, and jedediah grant, counselled the richer emigrants to give as much as they could—all their property, if they had faith enough—to help the poor brethren to emigrate; but the american elders had private instructions—so brother shrewsbury told me—to use the money to help out all the unmarried girls who are willing to go. i confess that this troubled me not a little; but my husband says that when we get to zion we shall find all will be right, and of course i believe him.”
mary’s conversation puzzled me a good deal at the time.[118] she had formerly been so clear-sighted and so unbiassed by prejudice, and now she seemed ready to believe anything. all her husband’s enthusiasm was now her own; she saw with his eyes, and in the intensity of her love for him she believed all that he accepted as true. long after, when i thought of that short interview, i called to mind her impulsive earnestness, and i felt that a secret misgiving, unconsciously to herself, was partly the cause of it. unknown to herself her excess of zeal was the offspring of doubt.
life in the future was in anticipation to my poor friend one long day of hope and happiness. she could not see the shadow of a cloud—no coming sorrow darkened her way. zion, to her excited imagination, was the abode of peace, and sanctity, and unchanging joy.
i asked her whether the saints in england had heard any of those strange reports about brigham young defying the government, which had attracted so much attention in this country.
“certainly,” she said; “it is because the day is so very near when all intercourse between god’s people and the gentile world shall be cut off for ever that these great efforts are being made to gather the saints to zion. of course you know this, but i don’t think you know all. why, at the last general conference in liverpool, the president had instructions from salt lake to propose brigham young as ‘prophet, seer, revelator, and king!’”
“king?” i said. “how can president young ever be ‘king’? utah is part of the territory of the states, and under their jurisdiction; it is not even a state itself yet, and congress has refused to sanction the name of deseret. this country will never suffer a kingdom to be set up in utah; you must be misinformed, sister mary.”
“no, sister stenhouse,” she exclaimed, “i am under no mistake. my husband assured me that the conference accepted the proposition, and that it was received unanimously. the saints are gathering in from all parts of the world, and when war is declared they will not be found unprepared. why, here on board with us, the american elders are all provided with swords and revolvers of the very best make that could be got for love or money, and i myself have heard them say that brigham young intends shortly to declare his independence of the united states. we didn’t know this before we left england, but we felt sure that he had some great purpose in view which had been revealed to him.”
[119]
“before we left,” i said, “the saints were all eager to emigrate.”
“yes, dear,” she answered, “but nothing like they are now. you have no idea how excited and anxious everybody is. some of the people, in order to obey counsel, sold their watches and jewellery, and even their best clothes, scarcely keeping enough for the journey, and every one who had any money gave it away. brigham young set a noble example in that; even the gentiles would admire him if they knew all. why, we had on board ship with us brother tenant, the rich new convert, who paid thirty thousand dollars for the property which brigham young so generously gave to help the emigration fund. he hardly had enough left to carry him and his family to zion; and now he is going to cross the plains with us, to settle in salt lake city. he is somewhere here among the emigrants, i believe, at the present moment, and you could ask him all about it if you liked. the brethren assure him that brother brigham is so liberal that he will get vastly more than the value of his thirty thousand dollars when he reaches zion, and i hope he will, for i like both him and his wife.”
all this was thus far true, but it was with some misgivings that i heard mary talk about it. still i tried to persuade myself that it was a sin to doubt. how little did either of us imagine that after poor mr. tenant’s miserable death upon the plains we should live to see his wife—destitute and defrauded of her property by generous-hearted brigham—dragging out a miserable existence in zion, and dependent even for a crust of bread upon the kindness of the brethren. and yet, as i have previously stated, this was how the prophet, under the mask of liberality, contrived, for his own purposes, to cheat this unfortunate and too-confiding saint.
then we talked of what more nearly interested ourselves, and mary asked me when mr. stenhouse and myself were coming out. i told her that it was quite uncertain, but that we expected to before long. “at any rate you will come out before the season is over?” she said.
“most likely so,” i replied; “but you will be safely there and settled before we arrive.”
how little did she imagine the fearful scenes she was to witness—the terrible sufferings she was to endure—before the season she spoke of had passed away. could i at that time have known all, i would have prayed that sooner than set out[120] on that fearful journey she might find refuge in the grave from the horrors which, unknown to her, were brooding over her way.
we talked long, and then my husband joined us—elder shrewsbury was called away by some necessary duty—and when we parted it was with many promises to write frequently to each other of our common religious interests, as well as the welfare of ourselves and those we loved. then i spoke with several other old friends, and we exchanged greetings with all sorts of people, for my husband wherever he goes is always sure to be upon speaking terms with almost everybody he meets.
the hand-cart company left new york for utah—a long and formidable journey at best—but in that instance, through mismanagement and neglect, one of the most fatal expeditions that imprudent man has ever undertaken; and it was not until months and months had passed away, and another season had come round, that we heard anything of their fate.
and time went on, but my troubles did not lighten. my husband still continued to work at the mormon office, and after a while his salary was slightly increased from time to time; but still his earnings were altogether inadequate for the support of a family, and i found it absolutely necessary to obtain some employment for myself. it cost me many a long and weary day of search and inquiry, and many a battle with my pride, before i could get anything to do; but at last i was successful, and although my little ones required constant attention, i contrived to add a very decent quota to the scanty family purse.
and thus matters continued until the following year—our life of uncertainty and care unchanged. little in my life at that time is worth recording: to me it was one long, painful struggle, and any change which could come i felt must be for the better. my experience of mormonism was of course enlarged as new facts presented themselves to my observation, and by nothing was my faith so much shaken as by the discrepancies between the written and spoken mormonism which was presented with fair face to the european saints and the world at large, and the actual conduct of the elders.
from the first moment when polygamy was announced, the leaders had strictly forbidden the missionaries to enter into any alliances with the sisters abroad, or to make any proposals of marriage to them, or to enter into any matrimonial covenants. in the language of heber c. kimball—brigham’s[121] first counsellor—they were “not to pick out from the flock the young, fair, and tender lambs,” but were to bring them all safely home to zion.
this counsel was all very well, for it tended to keep the elders out of mischief, and afforded an opportunity to the brethren at home to select more and more youthful wives from the fair converts who were gathered in to zion. but the missionaries found it very irksome to obey this counsel, and in point of fact those who did so formed a very small minority.
one of the missionaries who had just returned from europe came one day to our house in new york, and brought a youthful sister with him. he was by no means a handsome man or prepossessing in his appearance, but i saw at once that he had succeeded in obtaining considerable influence over the young sister’s mind. he said she was not very happy, and he wanted her to stay with some respectable family for a week or two until they set out for utah, and i agreed that she should stay with us.
she began to play with the children, and took one of them in her arms in a way which attracted my attention, for i noticed that tears were in her eyes, and she excited my sympathy. i asked her as gently and as delicately as i could what was the matter with her, and what her sorrow was, and she told me that she herself had two little ones at home and was wretched at being parted from them. she had obeyed counsel, and had left her husband and a happy home to go to zion. she loved them all dearly; but, deluded by false teachings, and promises that she should soon have her children again, she had stolen away and left them all.
i reasoned with her, tried to make her see how wrongly she had acted, and persuaded her to return to her husband and seek his forgiveness. but it was all in vain. the salvation of her soul she thought was beyond all earthly considerations; she must stifle the suggestions of her heart within her; she must hasten to zion. thus she left me, and like many another victim, i never expected to see her again.
one morning, a few months later, i was astonished to receive a visit from her. after expressing my pleasure at seeing her once more, she told me that what i said had so impressed her that when the emigrants had arrived at st. louis she had refused to proceed any further on the journey, had written to her husband, had made everything right with him, and was now on her way back to her home in england.
my story is so full of painful reminiscences, that it is with[122] pleasure that i record this incident—one of the rare cases in which folly was not succeeded by utter ruin and misery. alas, how many instances i might mention, which fell beneath my own personal observation, of wives and mothers led away by the delusive doctrines which they mistook for inspiration, and who sought vainly, through years of misery, for peace and rest, until at length they found it in the darkness of the tomb.
towards the end of the year 1857, the difficulties in utah, and a financial panic in new york, resulted in the discontinuance of the mormon. my husband was thus thrown out of employment, and to add to our difficulties the people for whom i worked suspended operations. this new trial of our faith, however, was not long; out of apparent evil good came. released from his obligations to the apostle and the mormon paper, my husband now set earnestly to work to obtain a living without the crippling influences of “counsel” or the dictates of those whom his religion taught him to respect.
i had always believed that if suffered to act for himself, his energy was such that he would certainly carve his way to a respectable position in the world. in this i was not deceived, either at the time of which i speak or at a later period when, in salt lake city, he engaged in active business on his own account. in new york, where he had been, by this time, appointed president of the eastern mission, and was actively engaged in advocating the claims of the mormon church, he sought and found employment on the staff of the herald, and in connexion with other daily papers; and such was his success, that from a condition of misery and poverty we were very soon raised to a position of comfort, and surrounded by every luxury suitable to our station in life; and this position we enjoyed until called upon to leave all and journey across the plains to zion.
our own journey to zion was postponed for a while; but not long before we set forth, i received the long-expected letter which mary burton had promised me; and as it contains a vivid picture of a mode of transit—the only mode which could then be used—across the plains, and shows what people were forced to endure so recently as a few short years ago, i shall give it in the following chapter; for i feel sure that if the reader did not peruse the story in the exact words of my unfortunate friend, he never would believe that in this country and in our own times such a terrible tragedy could have been enacted.
