taking a second wife:—the experience of the first.
i did not presume to ask my husband what it was that he had to talk about with carrie’s friend, but i instinctively felt what it might be, and i was so much troubled in mind that i thought i would never go to see her again.
by that time i had learned, as every mormon wife does learn, never to ask questions. the wife of a saint never dares to ask her husband whither he is going or when he will return. she is not expected to know or care what business her husband may have on hand when he leaves home in the evening, after making a most elaborate toilet, with frequent admiration of himself in the mirror. if the poor wife feels that she must say something, to give vent to her overwrought feelings, she simply asks in a conscious, guilty way, when he will be home again; wishing too often in her secret heart that he might say—never. her duty is to be silent and unobservant; and though some poor women have, when their outraged feelings were overcharged, inadvertently betrayed curiosity respecting the movements of the absent ones, they have soon been sternly taught their duty, and those loving husbands have given them good cause to repent of their inquisitiveness.
and who can blame these disconsolate, lonely women, if thus they feel? their religion alone is to blame. it has been the destruction of that sweet confidence which should exist between husband and wife, and it has divided hearts and interests which should inseparably have been for ever one. this, slowly but no less painfully, i was beginning to understand. however earnestly i might try to combat the idea, my life was wretched with the one continual fear of what i might see or hear of my husband. i tried to drive away such thoughts, and i called to mind all the acts of kindness and devotion which he had shown to those whose love my heart held dear. sometimes, arguing with myself, i said: “no, my husband[279] will not deceive me; no matter what other men may do or be with their wives, my husband will be frank and true with me.”
so i thought then; but i was destined to realize in my own experience how utterly impossible it is for any man, no matter how honest and truthful he may naturally be, to practise polygamy without becoming a hypocrite; and the more he loves his wife the greater hypocrite he will become, trying to deceive her with the foolish notion that half his cruelty is done in attempting to “spare her feelings.”
my husband thought that he was acting kindly to me when he said nothing of all that transpired between him and carrie; but when i saw the visit of carrie’s lady-friend so frequently repeated, i began to suspect the truth, and was much troubled. i was, however, too proud to question him on the subject, at the risk of getting an evasive answer, and it was evident that the two persons most intimately interested in the matter intended that i should be kept in the dark. i saw through all this, and it did not tend either to restore my peace of mind or to make me more pleasant in my intercourse with carrie or my husband. in their conduct i could see nothing but deception, however good their intention might be, and i felt that they were treating me as a child. the thought was very painful to me, and it was only with a great effort that i suppressed it.
these painful feelings, of course, had a marked effect upon my daily life. i grew weary, and my health failed, i became thin, and my features were marked with care and anxiety. when people came to see me, i said little to them, and their very presence i felt irksome. mechanically i went through the daily routine of duty, but my heart was in nothing that i did. i dared not even trust myself to speak to any one, for fear of becoming the subject of conversation and attracting the attention of the authorities, which was not at all desirable, for the position of a “rebellious woman” in those days was anything but pleasant. i stood alone. upon my husband i looked with suspicion; my children were too young to understand me; carrie—whom i had taken to my heart, to whom i had confided my sorrows, whose own welfare had been so dear to me—had, as i thought, turned against me, like an adder, and there was no one in whom i could trust. it seemed to me too cruel for carrie to treat me so, and yet i could not doubt that she was acting unfaithfully towards me.
surrounded by my children, living under the same roof with my husband, my heart was, nevertheless, filled with a[280] sense of utter loneliness and desolation. there was no one in whom i could confide, to whom i might tell my sorrows, and from whose counsel or strength i might derive comfort. i dared not even go and lay my griefs before god, for i had been led to believe that all my suffering was caused by an arbitrary decree which he willed to be enforced. how false a notion of that loving heavenly father whose tender care is so manifestly shown in his gentle dealings with the weakest of his creatures!
it was now about six months since carrie left my house, and i was under the impression that all that time certain well-intentioned sisters had been doing all they could to bring about a marriage between her and my husband. her health, however, was so bad that sometimes for weeks together she did not leave her room. at the time, of course, i knew nothing of this, but i afterwards heard of it. when i called upon her, which i did when i found that she was too ill to come to see me, i thought she was greatly changed in her manner; but when i thought of her lonely position, my heart warmed towards her, and i forgot all my suspicions. certainly, i wanted to ask her one plain question relative to my husband, but my pride would not allow me to speak to her on that subject unless she first mentioned it to me. one day i thought that she was about to make a confession. talking indifferently of ordinary matters, she suddenly said, “i am surprised you ever wished to see me;” but when i asked her why, expecting that she would now explain what had so long troubled me, she answered evasively, and nothing more was said.
with carrie’s absence from our house the rumours about her which had troubled me so much somewhat subsided. nothing could silence the secret apprehension which continually held my soul in dread; but the fear of my young friend’s influence once removed, i was comparatively at peace. it was, however, but the lull before the storm. i soon learned that in losing carrie i did not lose polygamy, and from about that time i can date my husband’s desire to sustain his brethren in the performance of their duty, and his wish to act as they did, especially in reference to the “celestial order of heaven.” just at that time the “morrill bill” for the suppression of polygamy was presented to congress, and all true mormons were made to feel that it was their duty to stand by their leader; and though, in itself, they might see nothing desirable in polygamy, yet, if they had not already multiplied wives, it was their duty to do so without any delay.
[281]
ever watchful as i was, i noticed little changes in my husband, which under ordinary circumstances would have escaped my observation. by this time one all-absorbing idea had taken possession of my mind, and my husband’s thoughts, i believe, were turned in the same direction—only our wishes did not exactly coincide. polygamy was the thought common to both, but upon its desirability we entertained dissimilar views.
a man with polygamy upon his mind was then a creature which i did not understand, and which i had not fully studied. some years later, when i had a little more experience in mormonism, i discovered several never-failing signs by which one might know when a man wished to take another wife. he would suddenly “awaken to a sense of his duties;” he would have serious misgivings as to whether the lord would pardon his neglect in not living up to his privileges; he would become very religious, and would attend to his meetings—his “testimony meetings,” singing meetings, and all sorts of other “meetings,” which seemed just then to be very numerous, and in various other ways he would show his anxiety to live up to his religion. he would thus be frequently absent from home, which, of course, “he deeply regrets,” as “he loves so dearly the society of his wife and children.” the wife, perhaps, poor simple soul! thinks that he is becoming unusually loving and affectionate, for he used not, at one time, to express much sorrow at leaving her alone for a few hours; and she thinks how happy she ought to feel that such a change has come over her husband, although, to be sure, he was always as good as most of the other mormon men.
my husband was a good and consistent mormon, and very much like the rest of his brethren in these matters; and the brethren, knowing themselves how he felt, sympathized with him, and urged him on, and, by every means in their power, aided him in his noble attempts to carry out “the commands of god!”
one evening, when he came home, he seemed pre-occupied, as if some matter of importance were troubling his mind. this set me thinking, too. i saw that he wanted to say something to me, and i waited patiently. “i am going to the ball,” he presently remarked, “and i am going alone, for brother brigham wishes me to meet him there.” i knew at once what was passing in his mind, and dared not question him. he went and saw brigham. what passed between them i do not know; but, when my husband returned, he intimated[282] to me that it had been arranged that he should take another wife.
the idea that some day another wife would be added to our household was ever present in my mind, but, somehow, when the fact was placed before me in so many unmistakable words, my heart sank within me, and i shrank from the realization that our home was at last to be desecrated by the foul presence of polygamy.
almost fainting, now that the truth came home to me in all its startling reality, i asked my husband when he proposed to take his second wife.
“immediately,” he replied; “that is to say, as soon as i can.”
we were silent for some time. my mind was troubled. had i been able to consider the whole affair as an outrage upon humanity in general, and an insult to my sex in particular, i should have replied with scorn and defiance. had i implicitly believed in the divinity of the revelation, i should have bowed my head in meek submission. but i did neither of these. the feelings of my heart naturally led me to hate with a most perfect hatred the very mention of the word polygamy, while at the same time i still believed, or tried to make myself believe, that the revelation was from god, and must therefore be obeyed. such was the strange and contradictory position in which i was placed.
“are you not satisfied that it is right for me to take another wife?” my husband asked.
“i have never yet really doubted that the revelation was from god,” i replied, “for i cannot believe that any man would be so blasphemous and wicked as to set forth such a revelation in god’s name, unless he received it as he said he did. if it is from god, of course you are right to obey it; but if i were to consult my own feelings i would never consent to live in polygamy. i would rather risk salvation, and tell the lord that he had placed upon me a burden heavier that i was able to bear, and that i regarded him as a hard taskmaster. but when the salvation of my husband and children, to say nothing of my own, is at stake, my wishes and happiness go for nothing, and i can only consent.”
from that moment i felt like a condemned criminal for whom there was not a shadow of hope or a chance of escape. could i possibly have looked upon the sacred obligations of marriage as lightly as mormonism taught me to regard them, i believe i should have broken every tie and risked the consequences.[283] but i had vowed to be faithful unto death, and if this second marriage was for my husband’s welfare, and for the salvation of us and of our children, i resolved to make the effort to subdue my rebellious heart, or die in the attempt. for the first time in my life, i thanked god that i was not a man, and that the salvation of my family did not depend upon me; for if fifty revelations had commanded it, i could not have taken the responsibility of withering one loving, trusting heart. i felt that if such laws were given to us, our woman’s nature ought to have been adapted to them, so that submission to them might be as much a pleasure to us as it was to the men, and that we might at least feel that we were justly dealt with.
not long after this, my husband brought me a message from eliza r. snow. she wanted me to take tea with her, and he urged me to accept the invitation. i did not want to go, for i knew too well her object in sending for me. she had been talking with my husband about me, i felt sure, and that was how she came to send the message by him. i went, however, and, as i anticipated, she wanted to talk with me about polygamy, and to try to convince me that it was for our best interests that my husband should take another wife, and that it was quite time he did so.
i told her that he was not yet in a position to do so. “we have quite a family,” i said, “and i think he should at least be allowed to wait until he has accumulated a little before he embarrasses himself with new responsibilities.”
“and where would the kingdom of god be,” she asked, “if we had all talked in this way? let your husband take more wives, and let them help him, and you will feel blessed in keeping the commands of god.”
“there would be no good in my husband taking another wife,” i said, “while i feel as i do now. to be acceptable to the lord, a sacrifice should be made willingly and in a proper spirit, and i do not think that under present circumstances it is proper for him to do this thing.”
“let him be the judge of that,” she replied; “do not seek to control him; he alone is responsible, and therefore let him do as he thinks best.”
“but,” i said, “he himself does not want another wife yet.” but i spoke with hesitation, for my heart misgave me.
“you are mistaken,” she answered; “your husband is a very good man, and desires to live his religion, and it is a great grief to him to know that you feel as you do, and you really must[284] try to overcome your opposition. if you had a loaf of bread to make, and you made it, and it was pronounced good, do you think it would be of the slightest consequence what feelings agitated your mind while you were making it, so long as it was well made? so it is with the lord. he does not care with what feelings you give your husband another wife, so long as you do so.”
this was a miserable attempt at reasoning, to say nothing of its falsity; and notwithstanding all she said, i still felt that no blessing would ever attend an unwilling sacrifice, and i told her so. she spoke to me very kindly, however, and tried to encourage me, and suggested that carrie would be a very proper person for my husband to marry. i had now no longer any doubt in my mind that it had been all “arranged,” and that opposition on my part would be all in vain. i was indignant at this, for i believed that, as the revelation itself said, i—the first wife—ought first to have been consulted. this, however, i subsequently found was as false as the system itself.
i returned home, pondering over what had been said to me, with a feeling of intense weariness oppressing my heart. i did not know what to think. it appeared to me that every one had determined that carrie should be my husband’s second wife; and i now believed, with my talkative friend, that brigham young had certainly intended it from the beginning. i felt that i would rather that he should marry almost any one else than her; for i felt certain that i should hate any woman whom he might marry, no matter how much i might have loved her before.
but my mind was soon relieved of its trouble respecting poor carrie; for, as i before mentioned, her failing health forbade all thoughts of marriage, and my husband, after a short time, never spoke to me about her. the real cause of my distress, however, was by no means removed; it was determined, without appeal, that my husband should, notwithstanding any impediment to the contrary, take another wife, whoever that chosen one might be. my apprehensions, therefore, were not removed; they were only turned in another direction.
