LIVES OF FEMALE MORMONS;
A NARRATIVE OP
FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION.
BY
METTA VICTORIA PULLER,
' Here is light on the sea and land,
And the dream deceives nevermore."
PHILADELPHIA :
PUBLISHEDBY Gr. G. EVANS,
NO. 439 CHESTNUT STREET.
1860.
I
Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1859, by
v4. Q. EVAN?,
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Eastern District of
Pennsylvania.
INTRODUCTION
THE following narrative tells its own sad tale ; but
will its moral sink deeply in the hearts of the people
of this Union who are now called upon to admit
Deseret into this brotherhood of States ? The people
of Utah, strengthened by numbers until the pop-
ulation now reaches upward of 77,000 inhabitants,
have prepared their Constitution, and will, ere this
work reaches the hands of the reader, have presented
it to Congress, asking for admission as a State. Ere
that admission is granted we conjure every man
who has respect for humanity and for progress, to
pause over this little record of one history, and then,
multiplying it by tens of thousands, say if he can
find it in his heart to fellowship with such a moral
monster as Deseret now is, and will continue to be
under the laws and Constitution which she has pre-
scribed for herself.
A crisis has come in our affairs which it is as painful
to contemplate as the slow march of a disease which
threatens to desolate all households. Men are armed
iv INTRODUCTION.
against men State legislates against State violence
obtrudes into our legislative halls, once sacred to the
people's representatives men are pronounced ''in-
cendiaries," "enemies of their kind," "traitors," and
the physical force of the bayonet and cannon-ball has
jome to quell the first outbreak of passion. Like the
baffled sea, the waves for a moment recede, only to
come leaping with a more terrible force to the shore,
then moan, and beat, and rage, until that barrier
gives way, and the fair land is given up to the fright-
ful deluge. It becomes citizens of America to pause
before that rising storm, and to see if there be not oil
for the troubled waters.
Under the principles of sovereignty embodied in
the Kansas-Nebraska Act, any Territory with a re-
publican Constitution and a sufficient number of in-
habitants, can come into this Union of States. The
social and internal regulations of such State are to be
ordered as the people, by popular vote, shall decree.
Upon its face this seems a just enactment ; but, look-
ing beneath, to its eventual operation, we see that the
principle is one dangerous to the stability and progress
of the country, detrimental to the individual State
and to the individuals of such State. For, under its
operation, Utah is entitled to enjoy unmolested her
polygamy and slavery ; and thus the Constitution of
the United States, which regards all men free and
INTRODUCTION. V
equal, fosters two as great wrongs as now disgrace the
civilized world. We ask, as Americans, are we willing
that such a construction should be placed upon that
Constitution ?
The institution of slavery in a free government is
a paradox, and gives the lie to the professions the
authors of this republic made, else have we shamefully
perverted their gifts which, it is not hard to say.
Territory which they pledged to be FREE has been
overshadowed by the darkness of African servitude
the political influence of such an institution has grown
apace with each additional State adopting negro " prop-
erty" as a basis of representation in Congress and
thus has the free government of our fathers become
but free in form, to protect a tyranny such as no
civilized nation on the face of this earth would tolerate.
The responsibility of such a perversion rests with
the degenerate sons of noble sires, and the future will
not fail to fasten the record where it belongs.
This we say in no spirit of enmity to the South, nor
of undue reproach to the North : it is from the love
we bear to that blessed Constitution, earned by the
blood of our fathers, and the tears and sufferings
of our mothers ; and we appeal to their children to
stay their tongues long enough for thought and
prayer; to stay the passion which governs them, to
see if they are not in the wrong, in the advocacy,
VI INTRODUCTION.
directly, or indirectly through the "squatter sov-
ereignty" principle, of what their better sense knows
to be wrong, degrading, dangerous to happiness, fatal
to all true progress and true liberty.
Repulsive as slavery appears to us, we can but
deem polygamy a thing more loathsome and poison-
ous to social and political purity. Half-civilized
States have ceased its practice as dangerous to hap-
piness, and as outraging every instinct of the bet-
ter nature within every breast ; and as ages rolled
away they left the institution behind as one of the relics
of barbarism which marked the half-developed state
of man as a social being. Its last remaining shadow
now rests upon the Turk, and he, profiting by the ex-
ample of his sultan, is gradually casting it aside, and
soon will stand forth as a monogamist. And thus it
bade fair to die out, and woman and society bade fair
to come forth clad in a nobility of moral purity,
which should, indeed, seem like the livery of heaven.
Who could have prophesied that in republican Amer-
ica the lie should be given to that promise, and that
the atrocity, protected by the strong arm of govern-
ment, should become once more a power for evil ?
The American people, absorbed in their grand
schemes of physical development, are apt to shut
their eyes to the moral aspects of their society. This
moral apathy it is which has allowed the system
INTRODUCTION. Vll
of slavery to grow and expand until it is now fast
becoming the controling element in the government;
and this apathy it is which would allow the intro-
duction of polygamy into American institutions to
become one of the elements of our society. Who shall
be to blame if that instrument of barbarism becomes
linked to our country, protected by its army and navy,
by its Constitution, by its moral force and sympathy ?
Let us not be deceived longer, but open our eyes
to the serpent now asking to be warmed into life
by our national hearth-stone; let us arise and say,
" Away leper ! cleanse thyself! and then come, and we
will gladly receive thee into our household will then
gladly give thee equal share in our councils then
will protect thee as our fathers protected Bunker's
Hill? Away with thee, and cleanse thyself!"
Reject Deseret, and we accomplish the first step in
a reform which shall restore our country to its once
proud purity, and give to it a new character for moral
and intellectual grandeur. Under its laws we ought
to be the best, the purest, the wisest, the bravest
people on earth ; and this we shall be are we but true
to the first principles laid down by our Revolutionary
fathers the nobility of man. Whatever degrades
him whatever corrupts and injures his moral, in-
tellectual, and physical well-being is inimical to the
well-being of society, to the State, to the whole coun-
Vlll INTRODUCTION.
try; consequently, to the spirit and intent of that
Constitution which is to perpetuate the republic, and
render it, in truth, the refuge for the oppressed, the
home of liberty. And, as citizens of this country,
we owe it as a duty, not only to the Constitution, but
to humanity, that we sternly oppose slavery in all its
forms intemperance and its hideous deformities, and
polygamy with its train of evils which no man can
truly conceive, but which surely will end in animaliz-
ing man, in corrupting the very founts of virtue and
purity, and, finally, in barbarism. Reject Deseret, we
say, as the first step in this great reform refuse to
her the sympathy and equality of the old and long-
tried commonwealths compel her to cast away her
overshadowing sin, and then shall we have assurance
that our hearts are still right, and hopes that our
country will come out of the present threatening crisis
purified, strengthened, full of life, and well-fitted to
accomplish our mission of initiating the true republic.
We may be permitted to quote from the Phila-
delphia "North American and United States Gazette"
the following, not only as "food for thought," but as
embodying suggestions which will serve as a basis for
action in the present contingency :
INTRODUCTIC., IX
4 'Among a party of nine hundixl Mormons, who
recently left comfortable homes in England, to sur-
render themselves to the sway of Brigham Young and
his hopeful associates, came two girls, whose transfer
to the Utah land of abominations has very much the
character of kidnapping. The story of their flight, as
related in the English papers, is as follows : Their
father was a man in middle life, well to do and in-
dustrious. His labors had placed his family, consist-
ino 1 of a wife and several children, in a state of decent
O '
competence and happiness. Satan came among them
in the guise of a Mormon emissary, and beguiled the
eldest son, who made a pilgrimage to the land of
rogues. True to their instincts, the crafty elders
of Salt Lake made Mormonism so delightful to the
neophyte, and advanced him so rapidly in their fra-
ternity, .that he returned to England as a preacher of
the delusion. The father, whose employment took
him away from his family for periods of a week at a
time, returned to the house one Saturday from a
business excursion, to find it deserted. His whole
family had disappeared, with whatever portables they
could lay hands upon ; and his wife had stolen his
money to no inconsiderable amount all that she could
collect or pilfer. He traced the fugitives to Liverpool,
and reached that place to discover that they had em-
barked, under the persuasions of his Mormon son, in
X INTRODUCTION.
an emigrant ship, the Enoch Train. The distracted
father chartered a steam-tug, and taking with him a
police officer, overtook the vessel. After an infinite
deal of persuasion, aided by the master of the ship,
and opposed by the Mormon leaders, he succeeded in
inducing his wiijp to go back with him. He also, as
a matter of great favor, obtained the surrender of
his .infant children. But his two eldest daughters
refused to return with their parents, and the heart-
broken father went without them. Their fate, going
thus unprotected to Utah, may well cause a shudder.
"A community thus replenished is maturing meas-
ures to apply for admission as one of the States of
this confederacy. We were never among those who
'calculated the value of the Union,' or who dreamed
that the possibility of its being sundered was among
contingencies to be considered in any case. But the
possibility that our fathers may have fought to es-
tablish a shield for a community of adulterers and
bigamists, and their progeny, makes us pause. That
all which we hold sacred in religion, or virtuous in
social and family relations, may be trampled under-
foot by a State represented on equal terms with those
founded by Penn and the Pilgrims, by Oglethorpe and
the Cavaliers ; that the Old Dominion and the land of
the Puritans may be allied with a fraternity of licen-
tious and debauched rogues these possibilities, should
INTRODUCTION. XI
they become facts, will leave no value to the Union
for any body to ' calculate.' Nothing has cast so
great a doubt over the future of this country as the
Mormon plague spot. And if the State of Utah is to
be admitted into our constellation, the sign will lose
its present proud significance, and stand as stars
sometimes do, in an equivoque the representatives of
something too foul to be spoken or written.
" And all this evil, if it be consummated, will
be fairly chargeable upon the absurdity of squatter
sovereignty a demagogue's figment to serve a party
purpose, carried to its legitimate deductions by knaves,
operating through the instrumentality of zealots, fan-
atics, fools, and lechers. We have no patience with
the Mormons, and as little with temporisers who leave
the evil to increase, until at last literal and bloody war
may be forced upon us to crush what common sense
and a just idea of the powers of the general govern-
ment might have averted. The contact with the
Mormons of such settlers of the West as have just
ideas of purity and decency, will be terrible whenever
the tide of emigration reaches them. And if the
descendants of the wretches now wallowing in Mor-
monism modern vermin perpetuating their kind in
the disgusting ratio of other loathsome creatures if,
we say, these children of such paternity do not form a
Pariah race in our country, it will be because this bad
Xll INTRODUCTION.
leaven taints the whole moral mass. Extremes meet.
We have enjoyed a high order of social virtue in this
republican country, because no corrupt royalty and
nobility have made illegitimacy tolerable, and recom-
mended the bend sinister as a badge of honor, provided
that the blood, no matter by what questionable vein it
descends, be 'honorable.' But if squatter sovereignty,
and liberty deteriorating into licentiousness, produce
the same results, we have only substituted Fitz-
Youngs and Fitz-Mormons for Fitz-Jameses and Fitz-
Clarences; and certainly have not gained much by
the exchange."
MORION WIVES.
CHAPTER I.
"Bring flowers, fresh flowers, for the bride to wear!
They were horn to blush in her shining hair.
She is leaving the home of her childhood's mirth !
She hath bid farewell to her father's hearth;
Her place is now by another's side
Bring flowers for the locks of the fair young bride."
MBS. HEMANS.
IT was the first day of June, and Margaret
Fletcher's wedding-day. She was to be married
in the evening, and all the afternoon she sat alone
in her chamber. It was a small, low room in the
upper half- story of the old farm house ; but it
was pleasant despite of its smallness. Its window
looked over the rose-bushes and pinks in the front
yard, across the road, to the meadow and woodland
beyond, and to the blue line of the sea lying in the
distance. "Within, all wore that look of order and
neatness which spoke the purity of the maiden's
tastes. The curtains of dimity at the window and
26 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
around the toilet-table were newly hung and deco-
rated with sprays of myrtle and rose-buds. The
fine linen pillow-casings and handsome counter-
panes were exquisitely white; a dress of snowy
Indian lawn, a pair of satin slippers, and two or
three simple adornments for the robe lay upon
the bed. Guiltless of a knowledge of French per-
fumery, Margaret had strewn rose-leaves over the
bridal attire and throughout the room.
She sat at the casement, her head leaned into her
hand, looking off in the direction of the ocean, but
seeing only the dream-land of the future in which
her thoughts were wandering.
Clouds drifted up over the declining sun, throw-
ing a shadow upon the landscape which startled
Margaret. She thought it later than it was, and
arose to dress for the ceremony. She had no
sisters to aid her at this pleasant task, and she had
not asked any of her companions in the neighbor-
hood to be her bridemaids. Slowly and still, as
if half-lost in reverie, she arranged her dark brown
hair. Three or four long, shining curls dropped
down beside either cheek and lay against her beau-
tiful neck; the rest were gathered into a simple knot
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 27
behind. Her fingers rested idly when this was
done, and she stood looking into the reflection of
her own earnest eyes until the voices of two or
three relatives, coming through the yard, again re-
minded her that she must hasten.
The clouds were sweeping more darkly now over
the sky, and it was twilight, although the sun had
not set. In a few moments the slender foot was in
its satin slipper, and the soft folds of the snowy
lawn waved airily about the youthful form. Mar-
garet was one of the most beautiful of those fair
New England maidens, who grow up amid the hills
and chilly breezes as sweetly and delicately as
Alpine roses. She had been reared in seclusion
upon the farm, and on the homestead where she
was born ; but no lady of the fashionable world
had a more dainty repose of manner, a more stately
carriage, or a gentler beauty. Suddenly the sun,
the moment before his setting, shone through a rift
in the thick clouds, deluging the little chamber
with floods of crimson light. But it was not the
red of the sunset tinging Margaret's cheek. The .
step, the voice of the bridegroom she heard from
the door below, and her whole being became ra-
28 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
diant in the glowing light. A warm color rushed
into her face, her eyes drooped, and the fingers,
which were fastening a white rose in the bosom of
her dress, refused to accomplish their task. It
seemed as if the rosy hue which tinged her bridal
dress was caught from her face and bosom instead
of from the lustrous sky.
Some one tapped at her chamber-door. She
thought it was her mother, and tried to overcome
the rapid beating of her heart, as she said, " Come in!"
"Sarah Irving! how come you here?" she ex-
claimed in surprise, as a girl of about her own age
entered the room and stood, half embarrassed, half
defiant, before her.
" As you did fnot invite me, I thought I would
ask myself to the wedding," replied her visitor,
forcing a smile into the brilliant dark eyes, which
looked as if their owner had ways of her own for
accomplishing her will, even when it did clash with
conventionalities.
"It was your own fault that you were not in-
vited, Sarah ; but I am very glad to see you, if you
have come in good faith."
" I know that it was my own fault all my own
OF FACTS STRANGEK THAN FICTION. 29
fault, dear Margaret ; and. it is just like you to for-
give me, even before I have made apologies. It
was a childish mood of coldness I took toward you.
I ought to be treated like a child scolded, and par-
doned. It is all past now, and I have to try to be
worthy of your former friendship. See I have
brought you a wedding-present."
She took from her own dress an old-fashioned
brooch, set with costly pearls, and fastened with
it the rose upon Margaret's breast.
" Why, Sarah, I must not accept that ! I know
how highly you prize it as a family treasure ; it is
too rich a gift. Keep it for your own wedding, my
dear friend."
Sarah laughed a quick, bitter laugh.
" I shall never be married ; so keep my offering,
or I shall be offended."
It was a strange assertion for one so young and
beautiful to make with such sharp earnestness. So
Margaret thought, as she looked affectionately into
her perturbed face.
" Never be married !" she said, with a smile. " 1
hope you will not, until, like me, you have met
the man whom you can not help obeying when he
. 2
30 MOBMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
commands you to unsay that. As for your being
offended at me it will not be the first time ; how-
ever, I wish to run no risks; so I accept your
beautiful gift, and with double delight because it
comes from you."
"They are waiting for you down stairs; the
minister has arrived," said Sarah, hurriedly putting
by Margaret's kiss of thanks ; " let me see, I do not
believe I have brushed my hair to-day."
She gave a passing glance into the mirror. Her
hair was indeed rather carelessly arranged, but it
was beautiful however it might chance to fall.
She almost started back from the intense brilliancy
of h^er own eyes.
" It will have to do," she said, taking her com-
panion's arm ; " dear 1 how red my cheeks are red
as poppies !"
The two girls passed down the staircase together.
They had been friends from infancy ; at school
they had chosen each other as confidantes ; they
were neighbors; and they had grown up without
any serious misunderstandings, although Sarah,
with her passionate temperament, sometimes took
freaks of anger or jealousy.
OF FACTS STKANGER THAN FICTION. 31
Margaret was the most patient, loving, and for-
giving of the two. Sarah could rely upon her
generous, placid goodness, even when her own
whims deserved resentment. She often wounded
her needlessly, but her own remorse would be so
keen she would cast herself back upon her
friend's love with a humility so touching in one
so proud, that it was far from Margaret's deeply
tender heart not to forgive her.
This last coldness of hers had been of a more
serious nature. About three months gone she had
adopted a reserved, even repulsive manner; so
that Margaret, after some attempts at an ex-
planation, and some secret tears, gave over all
effort to reconcile a difficulty when she was ig-
norant of any cause of offense. She grieved over
this separation less than she might otherwise have
done, as, about that time, she became engaged to
Kichard Wilde, and all other feelings were absorbed
in the love she felt for him. Often, when she sat
in her chamber preparing her wedding-garments,
or thought in solitude over her strange happiness,
she wished for Sarah to share in this new and won-
derful joy ; but again her feelings would seem to
32 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
her so sacred and beyond expression, that not even
her friend's old sympathy couM be trusted with
them. And when she was in Eichard's presence,
then she forgot a wish for any one else in the
world. The music of his rich voice, the spell in
the light of his deep gray eye, fascinated her
every thought and sense.
It was one of the wonders of the earth to her that
any one could say a word against Richard. She
thought all must yield to the sweet influence of his
smile, and the magic which lurked in his subtle and
flashing glance, as readily as she. He was a win-
ning man to the most of people ; though he excited
that doubt and remark, and sometimes that dislike
which people who can not be entirely comprehended
are apt to provoke. His mind was of cultivation
and capacity beyond that of any other in the quiet
village where he resided. His studies as a lawyer
in the office of his father, old Squire Wilde, the
resources of the family library, and his own inquir-
ing, restless disposition, forever prying into the
meaning of things, had made him not only intel-
ligent but ambitious. Twice he had left home and
wandered abroad for a year or two, partly seeking
OF FACTS STKANGEE THAN FICTION. 33
for a situation where the powers he felt within
him might be developed, and partly satisfying his
craving to know all about the world of men and
objects. Both times he had returned without any
particular result in the eyes of his neighbors,
except an increased faculty for making himself
entertaining by the variety of knowledge he con-
trived to communicate in his conversation. And
another charge was whispered with awe and in-
credulity by the pious and faithful inhabitants of
that Puritan village. From his neglecting almost
entirely to attend worship, and from some sneering
remarks which he had made about their forms and
ceremonies, it had come to be rumored that he was
"an unbeliever." This was the only shadow upon
Margaret's happiness.
She did not believe, as many of her neighbors
did, that he was an atheist or an infidel. She had
questioned him closely; and he had avowed his
faith that there was a God of goodness and love
who controlled the universe, and that men should
be governed by the precepts of Christ
" But he could not give his heart," he said, " to
the hollow forms of their chilling doctrines ; he.
3
34 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
despised the self-righteous sanctimoniousness of
many of their deacons and ministers ; he believed
that the Church stood in the way of progress ; he
believed that he could accomplish more good not
to be fettered by her chains.'*
Margaret could not but grieve and shed tears at
this ; for to her, reared in all the rigidness of the
old Puritan school, such avowals seemed not only
wrong and dangerous, but positively wicked. Yet
Eichard was not wicked ! His doctrines might be,
but he was not. He was charitable, he bore no
malice, he was kind to the poor, he praised God,
with a full heart at times, when he was lost in ad-
miration of His works. Oh, no ! when she com-
pared him with some of the envious, avaricious,
cold-hearted men who held high places in the
Church of which she was a member, she excused
his words, his mistaken doubts, upon the plea that
his heart was all right.
It was more difficult to convince her parents of
this. In a worldly view, Eichard "Wilde was an
excellent match for their daughter; but they had
her real interests too deeply at heart to be willing
to give her up to " an unbeliever." He reasoned
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 36
with them more earnestly than he had done with
Margaret ; and, too, he made concessions, more
than he could have done with perfect candor. But
he loved their child, and he could not lose her
upon a misunderstanding or a difference in relig-
ious matters. Upon his promising to attend church
for six months regularly, and to try and open his
soul to conviction, they gave their otherwise pleased
consent to the union.
Richard Wilde smiled he could not help it as
lie walked home after that interview, at the idea
of his sitting for six months under the preaching
of an ignorant and dogmatic minister, whose whole
logic and argument he had long ago at his fingers'
ends.
"It is but a concession to the feelings of those
who love me," he said to himself, in extenuation
of his want of perfect truth. (l I need not refuse
what will, after all. be but a trifling sacrifice of my
comfort, since I am to sit by the side of my beauti-
ful Margaret. He may drag his sermons out au
hour and a half every Sabbath if I am to have Mar-
garet nestled in the same pew my wife."
The last charmed word plunged him into a sea
36 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
of dreams, where his fancy floated upon blissful
" God bless you, Margaret, my child, and make
you as happy in the new relation as your mother
has been. Twenty-fere years your father and I
have dwelt together, and we are dearer to each
other this moment than when we were first pro-
nounced man and wife. A mother's blessing I give
you, my daughter," said Mrs. Fletcher, coming out
to meet the girls as they descended the stairs, and
taking Margaret in her trembling arms.
A few tears dropped from the young girl ? s eyes
as she kissed her mother's cheeks. But Kichard
had come out, too, and was gazing upon her with
eyes of passionate admiration. She saw all the
love, the exultation of his air, although she gave
him but a half glance ; then, her cheeks suffused
with blushes, and her eyes yet bright with tears,
she gave him her hand, and he led into the large,
old-fashioned parlor, where a few relatives only
were assembled.
Lamps had been lighted, displaying bouquets in
the china vases upon the mantel, and wreaths over
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 37
the windows and mirror. The guests were too
intent upon the entrance of the bride and bride-
groom, to notice how sultry the air had grown, or
how suddenly a hot wind came up, blowing a cloud
of fragrant rose-leaves in at the casement, and mak-
ing a hoarse murmur amid the trees upon the lawn.
The blushes died from Margaret's cheeks when
the ceremony began : she stood, pale and earnest,
making, in a low voice, the customary replies. The
minister had not finished his blessing, when a crash
of thunder, so terribly near and unsuspected that
all were startled, interrupted him. The bride trem-
bled and clung to her husband, but soon recovered
from the brief terror, and turning her glance upon
her friend Sarah, was surprised to see her deathly
white, and her eyes fixed upon vacancy.
"Speak 'to her, mother," she entreated Mrs. Flet-
cher, who came up to give her the first greeting.
" Why, Sarah, are you ill ? are you frightened ?"
exclaimed the mother, laying her hand upon her
shoulder to arouse her.
" I am neither neither ; I believe I was a little
shocked," was the gay reply ; and the young girl
sprang to her feet with a mocking laugh. " The
38 MORMON WIVES: A NARRATIVE
thunder has seen fit to salute you ; let me do you
like honor," and she shook hands with the newly-
married pair.
They felt that her hands were icy cold, and that
there was something remarkable in her manner;
but she was a creature of impulse and wild behav-
ior, and they thought no more of it
One of those sudden storms common at that sea-
son of the year, had broken upon the night, and
was spending its fury as it passed over. Peal after
peal of sharp thunder rattled around ; but none was
so startling as the first. The company soon regained
composure going out gayly to the supper-room to
partake of the dainties which had been spread for
them.
"I wonder what has become of Sarah Irving? she
ought to have a chance toward obtaining the ring,"
exclaimed one of Margaret's young brothers, as the
bride-cake went the rounds.
One or two of the youths went to the parlor in
search of her, but she was not to be found. She
had fled away into the night and tempest. Unable
any longer to brook the happiness of the marriage-
feast, she had dashed out into the wind and rain,
OF FACTS STRANGEE THAN FICTION. 39
braving the elements, in her thin dress, careless of
or defying danger. By the glare of the lightning
she found her way home ; drenched and miserable
she crept to her room, sitting by the window until
the storm without doors and the storm in her own
heart were somewhat weaned out.
CHAPTER II.
"Unwise and most unfortunate
My way was ; let the sign
The proof of it be simply this,
Thou art not, wert not mine P
PlNOTKBY.
"WITHIN a week or two after their marriage,
Margaret went to housekeeping in the village of
S , which was only about two miles from the
old homestead. Kichard's father gave him a hand-
s some house standing in the midst of a couple of
acres of cultivated garden and lawn. Four 01
five stately elms kept guard before the grass-plot ,
honeysuckles and roses clambered over the por-
ticoes : it was as sweet a place as "young love"
need desire for his first beginning in domestic
life. Margaret's parents had given her carte blanche
to furnish the mansion as her taste dictated; and
simply and cheerfully, not with garish display,
was it fitted up. A beautiful piano was the
richest article the parlor could boast a new piano,
FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 41
for the mother would not let the old one be
taken away : she wanted Margaret to play for them
when she came home, which must be very often.
The profuse supply of household linen which had
long been hoarded up for her, and which the bride
received as a part of her portion, might have awak-
ened the envy of less comfortably supplied begin-
ners.
Like many of the unequalled New England girls,
she could not only cull exquisite music from the
piano, but she understood all the mysteries and du-
ties of neat and economical housekeeping. She had
a good servant in the kitchen ; and it was a pleasure
for her to superintend all the arrangements, and even
to execute the lightest daily tasks ; while she still
had abundance of leisure to bestow upon the small
society of the village, upon her music, and always,
time to run and meet her husband, to smooth her
curls, and put fresh roses in her hair and on her
cheeks for his coming, to sing for him, to talk with
him, to make him happy.
Eichard had gone into the office with his father
as partner in his law business. There seemed noth-
ing in the way of this young .couple's leading a life
42 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
of peculiar prosperity, blessed as they were witli a
competency, health, beauty, intelligence and love.
True to his promise, Kichard went every Sabbath
to church, and sat by the side of his beautiful bride
with a face of sufficient gravity to please the most
sanctimonious. Not that he was hypocritical about
that : he was a mocker of the Church but not of
God; and when he heard His name, or went to
the place dedicated, however farcical he might
deem it, to His presence, he observed a propriety
of demeanor. But he did not spare the minister
and deacons. If Margaret asked him, after reach-
ing home, how he liked the sermon, his reply was
either a ludicrous and sarcastic criticism upon the
good man's effort, or a "Keally, darling, I did not
hear it, indeed I did not ; I was lost in reverie ; I
was thinking of you, wife, a much more interest-
ing occupation than listening; and the old man's
eloquence fell upon my ear like the distant mur-
mur of ocean waves upon a senseless shore."
Sometimes tears of reproach would bedew Mar-
garet's eyes, and then he would soften what he had
said with kisses, and love her more tenderly than
ever; for the most reckless man likes to see a
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 43
woman religious, even if her faith takes the shape
of prejudice.
Among the most frequent of Margaret's visitors
was her own brother Harry, a pleasant-appearing
young man about two years older than herself,
and her friend Sarah Irving. She loved to fancy
that they came there to meet each other. She had
but little doubt that Harry had yielded his heart
into the keeping of her beautiful friend; she did
not see how he could resist, pure-hearted and inno-
cent of art as he was. The influence of Sarah's
thousand charms and graces, all the more fascinat-
ing that they were touched with the fire of her
peculiar nature, as a southern flower is warmed
and tinged by a southern sun. She was the most
accomplished and brilliant girl whom Harry had
ever met, and knowing her from childhood, while
her intimacy with his sister gave him every oppor-
tunity to see her and be near her, it might be ex-
pected that she had grown to be the ideal of all
womanly loveliness to him.
Almost every evening during the summer of
the wedding he was at Margaret's house, who
could not fail to notice that if Sarah was absent,
44 MOKMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
not even her music which he professed to come
to hear, could win him from his abstracted mood.
If the young girl was there, and gave him one arch
smile or one playful glance of her bright eyes,
or one flashing ebullition of wit however much at
his expense, he seemed content. For was there
not always the long walk home with her, alone
beneath the evening sky? and the saying good-
night at the door always simply " good-night ;"
though each evening he would resolve that at the
next he would add some tell-tale word or beg a
precious boon beside. Yet something in her man-
ner restrained him, sending him on the other mile
which he had to walk in solitude, not always de-
spondingly, but more often with that feeling of
love and awe which dwells in the heart of a pure-
minded man toward the woman whom he has not
yet won to confess a preference for him.
As the weeks glided by, Margaret grew to be
less contented with the state of affairs. There was
something about Sarah which she could not under-
stand. Hitherto, although it was stirred by wild
and capricious winds of fancy and passion, when-
ever her spirit was at rest, Margaret could see to
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 45
the very bottom of its clear, bright waters, and
love their fairness : but now, even when not tossed
by unexpected moods into sparkle or gloom, it was
ruled by a cold, impenetrable mist.
She began to mistrust that Sarah did not and
never would return the passion of her brother,
which was growing every day more away from
his power to conceal it. She felt a small degree
of sisterly indignation when she looked upon the
earnest face of Harry, pale sometimes with re-
pressed feeling, and noted how all his deep solici-
tude was met with the same gayety, untouched
with the softness of emotion.
" If she should trifle with him," she thought to
herself; "but no, Sarah will never be guilty of
heartlessness. It is but the coquetry natural to
a proud young girl. Her soul will be melted,
as mine has been ; she will find it sweeter to
yield to a noble affection than to make sport of
it."
Thus the weeks glided on, and in time Henry
became restless and uneasy ; the fever of an un-
avowed passion was consuming his soul; there
grew a shadow, and beneath it a brightness in his
3
46 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
blue eyes; and the frank smile that dwelt upon
his lip became fitful and rare. Yet still Sarah
came day after day to the house of his sister, as
if on purpose to meet him; still she laughed
earnestly, played music that was " dancing mad,"
and her eyes shot glances of fire from beneath
the covert of their long lashes. One hour she
would bewilder them with her bright, invulnerable
gayety ; and the next sit silent and dark beautiful
as evening, and as sad. Then it would seem as
if the tenderness yearning in the heart of the
young man must burst forth ; yet to him, even in
her stillness, she was unapproachable as a stai
No one knew whether she was acting out merely
her untamed girlish impulses, or whether some
secret spring was moving her spirit no one but
Eichard Wilde, and he only suspected that he had
the key to her actions
"What do you think has come over Sarah?"
his wife asked him one night, after the young
couple were on their way home.
Sarah had been in one of her most wilful moods,
and had grieved Margaret, astonished Richard,
and wounded Harry ; so that he had offered to
OF FACTS STKANGER THAN FICTION. 47
escort her home with great coldness, and ;she had
accepted his services as haughtily.
"She was always a will-o'-the-wisp, and I am
afraid that she will never be any thing better.' 7
" Oh, no ! Kichard, she is wayward, I know ; but
I do believe that there is depth and truth enough
in her nature to make a noble woman of her yet ;
* with all her faults I love her still.' "
" If there is any truth in her, I wish that she
would not trifle with Harry any longer. It is
no better than murder for a woman to do what
she is doing; keeping a loving heart stretched on
the rack of her coquetry," replied Kichard, with
unusual sternness.
" Yet how sweet she 'is, how affectionate, how
gentle at times ! She was so faithful to me when
I was ill a year ago, Kichard ; she never left me ;
and she is just as kind at home to her family.
They worship her ; and indeed I love her all the
more for her wildness, I think often."
"Well, let Harry win his mocking-bird if he
can. I would rather have my nightingale that
sings always the same sweet song ;" and the young
husband turned the face of his wife toward the
48 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
light as lie kissed her, for he loved to see the
delicate color steal into her cheek, which still
came at a word of praise from him.
" Sarah is very beautiful," he said the next mo-
ment.
"And it is a beauty all her own ; I never saw
any one like her," answered Margaret.
" She has fire and sweetness enough in her eyes
to entrance a stone, when she is in her happiest
moods," continued Richard. "I do not wonder
that Harry is tangled in her spell. If I were him
I would not wait a day no, nor an hour, until
I would have my fate decided for better or worse.
She would not keep me dancing attendance upon
her pleasure: I could not endure it, and I would
not."
" I always thought Harry had pride enough,"
sighed his sister.
" But when men or women are in love, there
is no telling in what strange directions their pas-
sion will develop itself. I presume I acted with
all the customary foolishness, did n't I, Maggie,
before you promised me?"
" I never saw any thing foolish about you," said
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 49
Margaret^ with such a pretty earnestness that her
husband laughed.
The next day, as Mr. and Mrs. Wilde were sit-
/ 7
ting upon the front portico, enjoying a cool breeze
which had arisen, and the sunset clouds that were
glowing in the west, Sarah came from the street
up the garden-walk. Her bonnet was swinging
on her arm, and the wind was blowing her curls
about her face. She came along slowly, looking
a little pale, and there was an unusual timidity
in her aspect.
"I behaved so badly last night," she said, in a
low voice, taking a seat upon the steps at their
feet, " I wonder how any of my friends can love
me ; I can not love myself."
How much more beautiful she looked in that
moment of humility than when in her dazzling
moods. Margaret inly wished that Harry could
see her as she sat there with her eyes cast down.
He did see her. He had been with them to tea,
and was standing in the shelter of the curtains at
the window opening upon the portico, when she
came up, He was gazing upon her almost with
suspended breath ; and the soft voice of her con-
50 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
fession fell upon his perturbed spirits lilse a sweet
calm. All day lie had been distressed, not only
with doubts of whether she would listen to his
suit, but also with fears that if he should win her,
her Variable disposition would render him unhappy.
The touching gentleness of her present appear-
ance banished every such wise reflection; and he
longed to tell her that there was one at least whose
love could not be turned away, even by her mock-
ery of it.
"You seem born to do what you please with
. people," replied Margaret, affectionately. " You are
:<a queen in your own right ; and I do not think you
jrnean to be a very cruel one, though occasionally
you exercise your power in a despotic manner."
" Who can not govern themselves should not
aspire to rule others," said the young girl; "but,
indeed, I am going to do better hereafter. I have
been afflicted with a strange malady for the past
few months ; but the disease is conquered now, I
am sure, and I shall soon be convalescent. Then
you will have the Sarah that you used to have
again, only chastened by her experience in suffer-
ing."
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 51
She spske in a grave voice ; and her dark eyes
looked away into the burning depths of the sunset
with an unspeakable sadness and yearning, She
looked like one who had achieved a victory, and
was yet worn with the struggles serene and yet
melancholy.
Never before had the heart of Harry Fletcher
gone out to her with such fullness of tenderness ;
and yet her words had given him a sharp pain.
What worm had been silently preying upon the
bloom of her heart? What was the nature of her
past sorrow ? "Was it one to which he could not
minister? which would widen the space between
them had she loved another, and in vain, and
he never suspecting it ? The fear was a new one ;
for she had treated all her admirers so much more
coldly even than she had treated him, that he had
felt there was not at least that bar to his suc-
cess in winning her. He was both mystified and
pained. One thing he resolved upon before he
moved a fold of the curtain by which he was con-
cealed : he would no longer endure this suspense
he would hear his fate from her lips that night;
no caprice which she might put on should repel
52 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
him. And, oh! what a wild hope he had the
deepest hope of a life-time that he might break
down the barriers which divided their souls, and
drawing that face, so sweet, so pale in the solemn
sunset light, to his bosom, hear from those lips
that they would be kind to him, would repulse
him no more, would breathe their sweetness both
of grief and joy to him.
As he stood thus, with his soul illuminating his
fine features, he looked manly enough to be the
lover of a very high-hearted woman. He was but
a country youth. Two or three years spent stud-
iously in college had been his only experience
away from home. But he had the native grace
of a gentleman, and full enough personal beauty
to set off his more noble qualities. The natural
purity of his heart had not been polluted by. fash-
ionable dissipations ; his keen sense of honor was
such as sometimes to reflect upon the less scrupu-
lous impulses of his brother-in-law. The girl be-
loved by him ought to have been happy in the
confidence that she was enriched by an affection
which would be life-long, and by the companion-
ship of a generous and gentle spirit ; but " the
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 53
wind bloweth where it listeth," and love obeys no
known laws.
A few more remarks were exchanged by the
friends upon the portico, which Harry did not
hear he was too deeply absorbed in the resolu-
tion he had made. He stepped out by her side,
and gave the greetings of the evening to Sarah.
The sad serenity of her eyes gave way to a trou-
bled look after meeting his glance ; her feminine
intuitions betrayed to her something of what was
in his thought.
"I must go home," she said, presently, "before
it grows dark."
"Why not stay?" asked Margaret.
"I have a new piece of music, and I feel like
playing it to-night. I did not intend to spend the
evening. Good-night, all."
But Harry would not take her hint that she
needed no company. " I must see you safely
home, Miss Irving."
"Oh, no, I thank you. I can reach home be-
fore night ; and I have gone later than this a thou-
sand times."
" Our paths lie in the same direction, Sarah, and
54 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
so I shall walk beside you," lie said, coming down
the steps and joining her.
They bade the others good-night, and passed
along, Harry inly wondering if their paths for life
were to lie in the same direction, and firmly re-
solved to ascertain, without any more of the dan-
gers of delay. For several moments there was
silence between them, until they had passed the
village street, and were out on the country-road*
Then Sarah began talking vivaciously, as if to pre-
vent her companion from broaching any more se-
rious subject.
" If there 's a music in the world which I love,"
said she, "it is this soft murmur of the wind in the
tree-tops. When that little bird, dropping to its
nest, broke in just now, with that clear, quick war-
ble, its effect upon me was as if a sunbeam had sud-
denly fallen upon a smoothly-gliding stream the
flowing of the continuous undertone, and on its
bosom those glancing, sparkling notes. This av-
enue of elms is very beautiful, don't you think so?"
" Very beautiful, Sarah ; but there is something
which I"
" And that faint line of crimson in the western
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 55
sky : I would that it were a boat, and I sailing
about through, that golden sea. By the way, Harry,
did you know that Miss Green is to give a party
this week ?"
"I do not care any thing about Miss Green's
party," said the young man, seizing her hand and
stopping his walk.
They stood beneath a majestic elm; peace and
beauty brooded over the heaven and earth ; there
was no living creature within hearing except the
little bird of which Sarah had spoken; she was
looking so beautiful in the soft light, and she
did not resent the almost harshness with which
Harry detained her. Instead, she stood silent and
trembled.
"You know that I am not thinking of such
trifles," he continued. " You know what is in my
thoughts, and you are trying to prevent my speak-
ing. But you must listen."
" Oh, no I I can not not to night, Mr. Fletcher.
Do not say a word I can not bear it. I would
not have you say what will cause me regret and
pain."
" You can not bear to hear me say that I love
56 MOEMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
you? Then, cf course, it is because you can not
accept the love ! Sarah, what do you mean, what
have you meant by your inexplicable conduct?
You must have known, for months, that my soul
was in your keeping."
His teeth were pressed into his lip as he tried to
regard her calmly; but try as his pride may
prompt him, when the one hope is at stake, a
man can not be indifferent.
"You have no right to question me. I have
not given you that encouragement which should
lead you to speak thus," exclaimed the young girl,
endeavoring to free her hand, while all the bad
elements in her nature arose imperiously, and she
raised a glance of fire to meet his own.
"You can say that with some truth, but not
with perfect candor. It is true that you have be-
haved willfully at times kindly, at times coldly
to me. Bat you have gone every day where I was
sure to meet you. You have been as gay, as
beautiful, as bewildering as it was possible for you
to be during those meetings. You have many
times aroused my deepest feelings by a thousand
womanly enchantments, and then after proving
OF FACTS STEANGEE THAN FICTION. 57
your power shrank back into coldness when I
would have spoken, if that is what you call not
giving encouragement. But how could I decide
that this was not merely girlish coquetry, that your
heart was not mine, after all? You have re-
ceived my constant attentions, and you have not
received those of any other man. You shall not
blame me that I love you : you shall feel the full
weight of this result upon your own conscience.
Now you shall tell me with your own lips whether
you return my love or not. Oh, say that you do
that you have been trifling that you are mine
my Sarah 1" he exclaimed, with a sudden burst of
passionate hope, as he saw her lids tremble with
tears which dropped to her cheeks.
He was about to sustain with his arm the form
that he would have given worlds to hold to his
bosom now, as it seemed bending beneath some
deep emotion.
" Would to heaven that I were yours !" she said
in a low, sad voice. "Then I should be proud,
be blessed, be happy. But I am not, and I can not
be never! It is utterly in vain to flatter you
with a false expectation. I have done wrong, I
58 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
have wronged you ; and that is the bitterest drop
in the cup. It may be a poor consolation for you
to know that I am, at least, as miserable as you
possibly can be; and I have brought all my un-
happiness willfully upon my own head."
" No, Sarah, it is no consolation to me to feel that
you suffer as I do at this moment. Neither do I
believe it. A person capable of such feelings could
never trifle with another. It is enough for you, in
the pride of your youth and beauty, to bear with
you the memory that you have broken a true
heart."
He dropped those slender fingers from out of
his cold hands and turned away. There was no
anger in his tones, the keen anguish of their very
coldness smote her heart like a sword.
With that strange impulsiveness which char-
acterized her, she sprang to him and laid her hand
upon his arm.
" Forgive me, Harry, or it will kill me. I can
.not endure such language from you, who have
been my friend always. If it will be any relief to
your pain, know that I will never marry any
other man. If I married any one it would bo
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 59
you, and I would be your wife if I could make
you happy. But you have not my heart it is
as grieved as broken more hopeless than your
own ; it is not fit to mate with yours it is an ob-
ject of pity. Forgive me and forget me, Harry."
She kissed him a pure kiss of friendliness and
sorrow and while a tear which fell from her eyes
lay warm upon his hand, she fled away, leaving
him more in love, more in doubt than ever. He
stood where she left him, until she disappeared
up the lane which led toward her father's house,
and then he wandered into the solemn twilight
woods, the most wretched man, he thought, that
the stars ever came out to look down pitilessly
upon.
CHAPTER III.
* Within my breast there is no light,
But the cold light of stars;
I give the first watch of the night
To the red planet Mars."
LONGFELLOW.
" WHAT is the reason that Kichard lias not been
to church for the past three weeks?" asked Mrs.
Fletcher of her daughter Margaret.
They were sitting alone in the parlor at the
old home; Margaret was spending the day with
her mother, and had been playing old-fashioned
airs for a long time on the piano, but was now
engaged in making the button-holes in a shirt
for her father, which the defective sight of the
elder lady would not permit of her finishing.
" He does not like the minister," said the young
wife ; but her cheek colored a little, for she knew
that this was not the sole reason ; and she had
been mortified by the fact that although Mr.
Wilde had scrupulously kept his promise to at-
FACTS STEANGEE THAN FICTION. 61
tend church for six months, that the week the
time mentioned had expired, he had, with s>ome
stubbornness, declined going again.
" He has n't the gift of an eloquent tongue, sure-
ly," replied the good mother; "but he preaches
a safe and a sound doctrine; and it is much bet-
ter to listen to him than not to go to meeting at
all."
"Richard thinks that the parson is not as holy
a man as he affects to be ; that he is not so
charitable and self-denying as he preaches. He
says that he is obstinate and prejudiced, and
Pharisaical that he has got a very small, very
selfish soul behind a very solemn face."
"Richard should be careful that he himself is
not uncharitable. But if he is so strongly op-
posed to our minister, why does he not attend
the Episcopalian services ? We would not make
any great objections, though we had rather have
him with us. I feel uneasy about Richard's course,
my dear."
"So do I," murmured Margaret, scarcely re-
pressing a sigh. She would not tell her parent
that she had urged her husband to attend the
62 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
Episcopalian church ; and that he had good-
naturedly but positively refused ; giving as his
reason, that he had so much law-business through
the week, that he was obliged to take Sunday for
general reading and refreshment.
" I hope I shall get him out with me again be-
fore many Sabbaths," she continued ; u but he has
been so busy lately that he is tired, and takes the
holy day as a day of rest."
" Your father has been an industrious man the
most of his days, Margaret, but he is never so tired
that he has not a few hours to give to the worship
of the Lord out of the whole week. And he has
been a good husband to me. I hope we have not
done wrong in marrying you to an unbeliever, my
child."
" So is Eichard a good husband, mother," replied
Margaret, quickly. " I love him more every hour
of my life."
" Time will prove time will prove," murmured
the old lady. " It 's a risk for a lamb of the fold
to go wandering away from the flock in hopes to
persuade a stray sheep. But I believe that you
are a true Christian, my dear ; and I can only
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 63
counsel you to keep strict guard over your own
conscience."
" You know what St. Paul says, mother : l And
the woman which hath an husband which believeth
not, and if he be pleased to dwell with her, let her
not leave him : for the unbelieving husband is sanc-
tified by the wife, and the unbelieving wife is sano
tified by the husband ; for what knowest thou,
wife, whether thou shalt save thy husband?' I
have faith that it will be given me to save Eichard.
He has such a noble nature-4-it only needs to be
touched by Divine grace."
There was a sound as of tears in Margaret's
voice, which showed how deeply in earnest she was
her mother could not find it in her heart to say
any more on the subject.
A few moments afterward the young wife look-
ed up from her sewing, and saw Eichard coming
across the lawn to take tea with the family, and
accompany her home. She flung down her work,
and bounding to the door to meet him, welcomed
him as gladly as though they had been separated
a week.
"It was lonely dining at home to-day. I am
64 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
afraid I did not do justice to Betty's dinner," Kich-
ard said, while she was untying the shawl from
about his neck.
" And we could not half enjoy the turkey and
cranberry-sauce because you were not here," she
replied. " But you shall have some of it cold for
supper. I have had such a pleasant day with
mother ; but the last two hours have been so long.
"Why did you not come sooner ? it is five o'clock ;"
and then the husband laughed.
Mrs. Fletcher listened with a smile and sigh.
Perhaps it was foolish of her to feel such forebod-
ings about the future, as long as her son-in-law's
actions were good and admirable ; and she arose
and met him with the same motherly kiss which
she bestowed upon her own children.
When he took her hands, and held her away
from him, and looked into her kindly eyes with
his own dark, dancing ones, declaring that she was
almost as young and handsome as Maggie, and that
that was saying the most he could say, she yielded,
like the rest, to the charm of his manner.
After half an hour's cheerful conversation they
went to an early tea; for Eichard wished to get
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 65
back to town in time for an evening lecture at the
court-house. x
"Where is Harry?" asked he, as the meal was
nearly finished. "He has not been in the village
for two weeks, as I remember. Tell him we shall
mark him out of our list.' 1
" I saw him in the orchard as I came in," replied
the father, " and he said he would be in presently."
"Something seems the matter with the lad. I
am afraid he has taken a dislike to farm-life, or
else his health is not going to be good. He is not
the same boy that he was when you went away,
Margaret. I think it is lonely for him out here,
without any sister," remarked Mrs. Fletcher.
The young married couple looked at each other.
They had the clew to his altered appearance ; but, as
he had kept his secret from his parents, they did
not see fit to reveal it.
"If he would get a good wife, and bring her
home here, it would make us all a little more lively,
since Maggie has run away from us," said the old
gentleman.
" I do not know who he would fancy, unless it
was Sarah Irving," mused his wife.
5
66 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
" And she 's quite too much of a fire-fly for any
man, though she's pretty, and I like the gipsy.
She 's hardly the girl for Harry, though ; and she
has not joined the Church yet ;" and Mr. Fletcher
shook his head.
Eichard smiled and colored slightly at the last
objection, while the mother coughed as she asked
him if he would have another cup of tea, and Mar-
garet looked down upon her plate.
" She 's a beautiful girl, for all that, 1 ' said Eich-
ard ; " and I hope she and Harry may sometime
take it into their heads to get married."
" She 's right smart, too ; and can manage a
house, when her mother is sick, as well as the
best," added Mrs. Fletcher.
" Ah, well I I guess we had better wait until we
see some signs of danger before we discuss the mat-
ter so seriously," laughed Margaret, as she arose
from the table.
She was pained at the state of unhappiness which
her brother was in, and she did not wish to fix
attention upon it, so as to make it a source of any
more speculation.
"Wrap up warm," was her mother's injunction,
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 67
as she was preparing for her long walk of two miles
to the village.
" We will walk rapidly ; that will be the best
way to keep the cold off. Come, Maggie. Good-
by ; all."
The ground was frozen smooth, and a few flakes
of snow fell slowly through the air, gray with the
approaching evening. As they hurried down the
lane by the orchard, they saw Harry, with his arms
folded over the fence, and his head drooped upon
them, gazing intently toward the house of the Irv-
ings, just visible through a vista of trees at that
spot.
" Why, Harry ! you have not been to tea yet,
and here you stand in the cold," spoke his sister,
running up to him, and looking into his face with
so much sadness and tenderness that he could not
resent the sympathy her looks inferred. " Dear
brother, I can not bear to see you so grave and
pale. Come along with us to-night, will you not ?
Eichard will be out, and I want you to sit with
me."'
"!N"o no! not to-night, Maggie. I had rather
b* alone."
68 MORMON WIVES; A NAKRATIVE
She kissed his cheeks, and told Jiim not to stand
there any longer.
" Do come to town oftener. Cry ' Begone, dull
care !' and whistle all melancholy down the wind,"
called out Eichard to him, in a bluff, hearty voice,
as his wife came back to him, and they passed
along.
As they drew near to the residence of the Irv-
ings, they saw that Sarah was out walking back
and forth through the long front portico. It was a
chilly night, and almost dark ; there was already
some snow gathering in the crevices around the
house ; but she wore no shawl or hood to protect
her from the cold. The wind waved her black silk
dress about her limbs, and tossed her hair, which
was blacker than her dress. They could not see
distinctly through the gathering gloom, but they
thought that she looked thinner in face and form
than when they met her last. She did not visit
them now, except at long intervals, when she was
quite certain that she should not meet Harry. They
could not treat her coldly, despite of their sympathy
with their brother ; for they believed that she had
not meant to wrong him, and they saw that for
OF FACTS STKANGEK THAN FICTION. 69
gome mysterious reason she was unhappy. They
could only love them both, and hope that sometime
all would be well.
" How do you do, Sarah ?" they called out, gayly,
as they came opposite her in the road.
She lifted her head, answered faintly, " How do
you do ?" and re-commenced her lonely promenade.
" You will get sick, exposed to this bitter cold,"
cried out Margaret again.
"That would be a piece of good fortune," was the
reply ; and with this they left her to her thoughts.
CHAPTER IV.
"But man crouches and blushes,
Absconds and conceals;
He creepeth and peepeth,
He palters and steals."
RALPH WALDO EMEBSON.
WE have said that Eichard Wilde was am-
bitious, and that he was not quite content to settle
down in his native place. This might have been
the key to all his subsequent proceedings, although,
it was not the motive the most prominently be-
fore his friends and the public.
TJie day after the one which ends the last
chapter, he told Margaret that he wished her to
attend a lecture with him in the evening. He
had been very deeply interested in the one of
the preceding night, and he wished her to go
and see if she would be as pleased as he had
been. The speaker was a stranger, and the sub-
ject was a religious one.
" A religious one!" Then the wife would be
\
FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 71
glad to go, for the desire most fervent in her
heart was that her husband might be influenced
by the right, and withdrawn from the verge of
that dangerous skepticism upon which he stood.
She went; and the man was a Mormon, and
his object was to convert as many people as he
could, and induce them to join the great caravan
which was even then on its way from Missouri
to the Great Salt Lake city, which had been
chosen and laid out the previous summer. They
had stopped, the most of them, for the winter,
on the banks of the Missouri river, and would
be glad to be joined by new friends and brethren
before they began their journey in the spring.
Such arguments as might possibly deceive the
unlearned and the very fanatical, were given with
a kind of eager, rough eloquence, that was pe-
culiarly the speaker's own ; but not such reasoning
as should have influenced an honest or intelligent
mind. Margaret came away disgusted, and her
husband came away a Mormon convert !
That was a very unpleasant night for the young
wife. The two sat up until long past midnight
discussing the subject which had suddenly be-
72 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
come of such vital importance to them. The
gentle nature of Margaret ha:d never been so
thoroughly aroused in opposition to any matter
before ; the glow burned upon her cheeks, and the
proud light flashed from her eyes as she heaped
indignant scorn upon the doctrines which had
been set forth. The one fearful vice which now
forms so prominent a feature of the Mormon in-
stitution had, at that time, been little discussed
by the public, and she was ignorant of its ex-
istence in that society. But the whole matter
wore to her such a look of farce and trickery
played off by a few leaders upon a foolish and
devoted people, that she was lost in astonishment
that her husband Kichard Wilde whom she so
muph admired and honored for his keen and
logical intellect could be, for a moment, duped
or influenced.
"You are not in earnest, Richard !" she exclaimed,
bursting into tears, when he at length announced,
in answer to her plea, that he had resolved to
join the emigrants, and become one of the found-
ers of the future city.
"Now, Margaret," said her husband, drawing
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 73
her upon Ms knee, and caressing her; "you ought
to be glad to hear that."
" Glad to leave my father and mother my
home to go away into that wilderness! and
worse, to bring disgrace upon ourselves by such
a religion ! oh, Eichard !"
"Have you not told me time and again, Mag-
gie, that you would cheerfully sacrifice home,
and country, and worldly prosperity, and all
things, to see me a professor of the religion of
Jesus Christ ?"
"Yes, I have, Eichard: and I would; but this
is the mockery of false prophets this is not the
religion of Jesus Christ."
" Well, Margaret, my wife, I leave the decision
of my future with you. I have always found it
impossible to give my faith at all to the formal
and repelling ceremonies which seem to me, in
this community, to usurp the place of some real
religion if there be such a thing. And finding
nothing here to fix my heart upon, I have fallen
almost into a state of entire unbelief; doubts and
perplexities have pressed upon me ; and I have
found my intellect warring with satire and phil-
74 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
osophy against my soul. But in this new insti-
tution I find something to attract and interest
me; my fancy, at least, if not my heart, is en-
gaged; I think that I can see my way through
into a more satisfactory belief. It rests with you
whether you will encourage this, or throw me
back upon my old skepticism."
Poor Margaret ! this was a new way of putting
the question to her. She felt that there was
something hollow in this speech, yet she could
not detect or expose it. And, perhaps, this was
the way in which her unwearied prayers for her
husband were to be answered; perhaps it was
only given her through sacrifice of much that
was dear to her, to be permitted to effect im-
mortal good for him. And should she shrink
from the coveted test of her sincerity, now that
it had a shape different from what she expected ?
That fathomless love, which lives in the heart
of a true woman for her husband and her God,
was stirred in her bosom to its deepest depths.
If it had been the martyrdom of herself, she
would not have shrunk, if convinced that her
husband's best interests demanded it. As it was,
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 75
the sacrifice was "hardly less cruel pride, old
beliefs and associations, old loves and home had
all to go.
"This has come suddenly upon me," she said,
, i
in a tremulous voice; "you have thrown such
an awful weight upon my conscience, that, for
the present, I am faint and confused. I will
think of what you have said; and you know,
dear Eichard, that however I decide, it will be
my love for you which prompts me."
The beautiful face, bathed in tears, sank upon
his breast, and Eichard, deeply moved by the
unselfish affection which hallowed those sweet
blue eyes, drew his wife more closely to his heart,
and they sat in silence for several moments a
silence, the sweetest in the world, for it is not
all silence when two hearts beat together as if
they were one, and the bliss of living is made
divine by being doubled. Even in the excited,
unsettled state of their minds, they were happy.
Neither of them slept much that night. Eichard
had his own thoughts about the step he had re-
solved to take, and his wife was too deeply dis-
turbed and grieved to rest; she passed the hours
76 MOKMON WIVES; A NARKATIVE
in a vain attempt to become reconciled to her
new fortunes, and in silent supplication to the
Source of all truth and wisdom to enlighten her
as to what was her duty in this perilous case.
After daybreak she fell into a light slumber,
and when her husband arose on his elbow and
looked upon her beloved face, the flush of tears
was yet upon her cheeks, and a slight con-
traction of the fair arched brow revealed to him
the shadow which lurked in her usually happy
dreams.
"I am asking her to resign a great deal for
my sake," he mused. " She will give up all that
is dear to her in the world to follow my for-
tunes. Dear Margaret! at least I will reward
you with all the devotion which your heart can
require."
"Do not look so sad, Margaret; do not, I beg
of you," he said, as they sat at the breakfast-
table, where the cup of coffee sat untasted by
her plate.
"I was thinking of mother, Eichard; and of
how I should break the news to her."
"Are you not willing to 'leave father and
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 77
mother, and cleave unto your husband?' you,
who are such a good Christian, Maggie?"
"If there is to be a choice between; but we
were so happy all here together. I have hardly
learned to do without my mother yet," said the
young wife, with a faint smile. " And she -I am
an only daughter, and I can not bear to leave her
so desolate."
"It is the destiny of families to be scattered
sooner or later, and when you became my wife
you ought "
" I know it I know it ! I do not hesitate a
moment that is, I would not if I were convinced
that it was for your temporal or spiritual benefit
that I should yield. But you will allow me some
natural emotions of regret will you not, Eichard ?"
"Why, yes, my darling; and you must not
think me so selfish as not to have dreaded this,
too. It is hard, I know, and it pains me deeply.
But I am acting now with reference to all our
future, earthly and eternal, and I must not pause
for trifles. "Wherever we are, you will have me,
Maggie, my love, my tenderness, my constant care
for your happiness. We will be a thousand times
5
78 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
dearer to each other, even than now, when we
have none but ourselves to cling to."
This appeal brought up from the depths of the
bright eyes opposite him, a look of such glad devo-
tion, that he knew his cause was gained. Never-
theless, when Mr. Wilde had gone out upon the
business of the day, Margaret's heart was any thing
but light. She felt as if she must fly to her mother
for counsel; and yet she dreaded the hour when
she should have to reveal a fact to her which was
not only painful to the affections, but mortifying to
their Puritan pride.
That day her husband brought home the Mor-
mon missionary to dinner. She could scarcely treat
him with ordinary politeness. He talked much and
well, but she grew more disgusted with him every
moment; not from any thing repelling in his ap-
pearance, but because of the influence he exerted
over Kichard. Their conversation was not so
much upon the religious theories of his people as
upon their future worldly prospects. The beauty
and richness of the country which they were to
appropriate the means within themselves of amass-
ing wealth the ease with which men of talent and
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 79
education among them obtained eminence and po-
sition among the brethren their prospects for be-
coming a mighty nation by themselves, and with
their own government were some of the points
discussed.
" ' First come first served, 7 you know, Mr.
Wilde. Now is the time for a man of some for-
tune and more ability, like yourself, to make him-
self a name and fame, and secure to himself all the
exaltation of wealth and renown. Glorious prizes
are verily thrown at your feet, and if you do not
pick them up, the fault is your own."
Margaret sat listening, and weighing their words
in the correct balance of her pure mind. She felt
more discouraged than before ; a faint doubt of the
truthfulness of her husband's convictions, and the
possibility of some merely worldly motive influenc-
ing him, troubled her ; yet she hardly knew which
was worst that he really should be the disciple of
a false prophet, or that he should put on such a
guise for selfish purposes.
After dinner Kichard went down town with the
missionary ; and Margaret, unable to bear the lone-
liness of the house, started to visit her mother. She
80 MOEMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
"had a little black pony in the stable which she could
saddle without assistance ; and although it was a
chilly winter day, she resolved to ride. The first
mile, galloping along through the sharp, bright air,
somewhat restored her spirits, when, all of a sudden,
the thought rushed over her, that this familiar coun-
try, every acre of which was dear to her, must be
deserted by her these fields, these trees, this pleas-
ant, winding road, even this precious jet-black steed,
who had known no restraining hand but hers, were
all to be changed for a strange, distasteful land ;
her parents, her brothers, the old homestead, the
ocean, whose grandeur had given a tinge of sub-
limity to her girlhood's dream, and which tossed
restlessly but a few miles away but most, her
mother! The tears which ran rapidly down her
cheeks so blinded her, that if the pony had not
known its destination, he might have gone far
astray.
" Now, for mercy's sake, child, what 's the mat-
ter ?" exclaimed Mrs. Fletcher, as Margaret came
into the hall, her eyes red with weeping.
She only threw her arms about her mother and
sobbed.
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 81
" In trouble so soon ! "What has happened, Mag-
gie?"
The young wife recovered herself with a quiver-
ing smile.
" I do believe it is only the first quarrel," spoke
out the good mother, somewhat relieved. " Has
Richard been cross, or denied you any thing, or
neglected to kiss you when he went out of the
house for an hour, baby ?"
" Oh, mother, it 's a great deal worse than that.
We are going out West early in the spring."
" Going out West, child?"
"Yes ! into the far, far West ; away off to Utah,
mother."
" Utah ?" was the still incredulous question.
" Yes, mother. And, what is worst of all, we are
going to the Great Salt Lake city ; Richard 's be-
come a Mormon."
Mrs. Fletcher uttered a little scream. It was very
seldom that she allowed her equanimity to be dis-
turbed ; but this was no trifling shock, and she
sunk down into a chair, unable to give any other
expression to her feelings.
"Don't look so sad, dear mother don't; I feel
6
82 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
so badly already. And perhaps it's all for the
best."
"All for the bestl This comes from marrying
an unbeliever. I do believe it's the judgment of
heaven upon you. My daughter's husband join
the Mormons ! It 's a disgrace a burning dis-
grace. I know your father will feel it so. He, a
deacon of the Church, and has always stood so high,
to have a son-in-law a disciple of Jo Smith instead
of Jesus Christ. This is what comes of being taken
with fine talents, and fine looks, and fine educa-
tion, instead of with goodness, and grace, and hu-
mility."
Perhaps this was the best thing the mother could
have said to arrest Margaret's passionate weeping.
If her friends were all to condemn Eichard, she
must defend him. So she dried her tears, and went
over to his side of the argument. The objections
she had so eloquently urged when talking with him
the previous night, were left out of sight, and only
his reasons and expectations given.
" It is your duty to stand by your nusband, child,
if you think he is right. He has already blinded
your judgment. I know, my darling, that it is his
OF FACTS STKANGEB, THAN FICTION. 83
soul's salvation which you seek. But ' be not de-
ceived ; God is not mocked.' '
" "Well, dearest mother, what else can I do ?
Eichard thinks he has found a rock to keep him
out of the ocean of skepticism : shall I push him off,
and leave him to struggle with its waters again?
You have often said that he had abundance of hard,
practical common sense. I trust greatly to that. I
think that when we arrive among this new people,
if his judgment is dissatisfied, that he will return.
He may lose a year or two of time, and some money
by the venture ; but I shall stop to weigh nothing
in the scale against his spiritual welfare."
" ' Ay, there 's the rub.' If it only was for his
spiritual welfare," murmured Mrs. Fletcher, with a
deep sigh. " This is bad news to break to your
father."
"And how can I leave him, and leave you,
mother ? Oh, I hope that Eichard will change his
mind, and grow weary of Mormonism, and come
back again. Yet this may be the answer to my
prayers, mother 1"
So it was that Margaret reconciled hersel
The saddest family group gathered around the
84 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
table that night which had been since the death of
a little sister years before. Mr. Fletcher did not
say as much as his wife had said, but he felt the
more deeply. He immediately detected in this sud-
den conversion some selfish, ambitious purpose,
which lay hidden from the unsuspicious eyes of
his wife and daughter
" Richard Wilde is too keen to be taken in the
trap of any such sham religion as that," he mused
in his heart. " A man that can argue as he can,
would never be duped by the doctrines of Jo
Smith. Something's at the bottom of this in the
shape of speculation. He '11 make his fortune out
there, but I don't like the way. Honesty's the best
policy. Poor Maggie, I 'm afraid for her."
The brothers were loud in their expressions of
disapprobation.
" I shall hate Kichard, if he takes away my only
sister," muttered John, a sturdy boy of fourteen.
" And I thought him such a splendid fellow be-
fore."
Almost every body thought Eichard Wilde a
"splendid fellow." That was the impression his
vivid wit and great tact in pleasing others, usually
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 85
left. He was so fond of being admired, that he did
not despise the good opinion of a child, and gen-
erally he said and did something for all which
delighted them. Yet many older heads who still
thought him a " good fellow," mistrusted the depth
of that goodness. The tendency to exaggerate,
which made him brilliant, took from his sincerity.
His impulses were not yet bad, only a little too
selfish. He was generous to others, but most
generous to himself. He, himself, having not
yet been tried in any great ordeal, thought himself
a good, perhaps a splendid fellow, and that his
lily -flower Margaret showed great discretion in lov-
ing him as she did. He adored her with a kind of
passion and unrest which did not promise as well
for duration as for strength ; but of this the pure
and single-hearted woman never dreamed.
Harry, like his father, did not say much. He
had seemed less cheerful even, when he first came
in, than when she had met him the day previous.
After hearing the exciting news, he fell into a
reverie from which he aroused himself, looking
more happy than he had done for a long
time.
86 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
" I do believe Harry is glad that we are going,"
said Margaret.
"I am glad; I think it will be a good thing
for Eichard."
This decision filled the family with surprise.
Margaret was comforted by it, for she placed con-
fidence in her brother. Far from her remotest
thought was any idea of the true cause which
influenced his opinion.
As they always gave her an early tea, the young
wife hoped to reach home in time to preside over
his cup for her husband ; she did not like him to
eat in solitude.
So telling them all that she would see them
soon again on the now-engrossing subject of her
visit, she sprang upon her pony and bounded away.
As she passed the Irvings', she saw Sarah, with
bonnet and cloak, waiting at the gate.
" Check the speed of your fiery steed, for I want
your company into town," she said, as she came
forth to meet her.
" Then you must get up behind, for I am in
haste, and pony wouldn't like to measure his
steps with your little feet."
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 87
"If you were an old-fashioned cavalier, there
would be something worth while in mounting the
same steed and flying away into the regions of
sunset, with the sounds of hot pursuit dying in
the distance/' laughed Sarah, as she sprang up,
and the little pony cantered away, looking rather
overloaded.
"You are too romantic for this common-place
era, Sarah ; you ought to have been born in the
days of troubadours ; those bright, proud eyes of
yours would have brought plenty of them to sigh
beneath your window. You must marry, and
settle down soberly, like me."
" What do I care for these eyes of mine, since
their arrows could not bring down the game I
wanted ? Do not talk to me about settling down
soberly. I never did any thing as other people
do ; and I have a presentiment that I shall not
marry as other people marry. By the way, I heard
a very strange rumor this afternoon."
"That we were going west?"
" Yes."
"Well, I fear that it is too true."
There was a long silence ; at length Sarah spoke
88 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
in a low voice, full of meaning, which startled her
friend.
( (Do you know that the Mormons believe in
potygamy, Margaret ?' :
She felt the heart around which her arm was
thrown give a sudden leap, but it grew composed
again.
"No," was the reply ; "and I do not believe it."
" Well, it is so." v * 1
"If Eichard knew that he would not go near
them," said the wife, at length ; " he would be
too much shocked. I think you must be mis-
taken: there are so many reports."
Sarah did not repeat the charge, and Margaret
went on to tell her about the lecture and the
missionary, etc., until they reached her home.
" I am just in the mood for riding a little
farther," said Sara, as the other dismounted, "and
if you do not object to loaning your horse for a
half hour, I will ride on."
" I would loan you any thing I possessed, ex-
cept the heart of my husband. But is it not
too cold to ride so near night?"
" Not too cold for me : I love it."
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 89
She sprang into the seat, and waving her
hand with a grace which none but herself might
equal, she touched the fiery little pony with the
whip, and away they flew down a cross-street
leading out into a road which ran down to the
sea. There was no wind, but the air was sharp,
and the sun was low. Her cheeks were crimson
with the cold ; her hood fell back, and her glossy
black hair floated around her face in disorderly
curls. If James could have seen her in that declin-
ing winter light, he would thereafter have written
eternally about one young horsewoman riding
down upon the beach, instead of two horsemen
riding over a hill if indeed he did not mistake
her for an apparition, and write about a spirit upon
a bewitched steed. Before he would have time
to rub his eyes and convince himself, she would
have been out of sight as by magic,, so madly
she hurried her swift little horse along the path.
It was half an hour's ride to the ocean, and
although she had only asked to be gone that
length of time, when she came in sight of those
eternal waves, the same spirit which had prompted
the ride, impelled her on to the shore. Ah, how
90 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
cold it was there, and the sun was sinking behind
her. But the moon was rising before her. Out
of that bed of silvery ripples in the dim distance
she came up, and hung cold and bright over a
glittering waste.
Sarah Irving rode to and fro along the gravelly
beach. There were none in that lonely spot to
wonder at her mood, only the poor pony whom
she gave not time to breathe, as she urged him.
back and forth. Her eyes, growing darker and
more intense, looked over the boundless waters.
As moonlight took the place of day, she too began
to look pallid and wan ; the ocean had on a ghostly
splendor which was reflected in her face. The
waves rolled in upon the beach, expiring with a
prolonged cry. By-and-by she too began to cry
out in a long, low voice, " Oh, no, I can not, I can
not I" she cried, and then the next moment, "but
I will I must!" No other human being could
have rightly guessed the secret of the struggle in
her swelling breast. It heaved with sighs like
the infinite bosom of the sea before her.
"Oh, sea!" she sobbed at last, turning her
horse's head, and facing it, " we must have some-
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 91
thing in common, so strangely do you sympathize
with my words. But you are more or less than
human. I, alas, am human ; in my breast is the
war of passion against principle : you know not
the awful strife. Yet your voice is sadder, your
sighs morp mighty than mine. Can you feel more
than I do? Have you a grief? do you know
mortal or immortal pain like mine?"
The tide was coming in; even as she ceased
speaking, the waves, crested with glittering foam,
broke around her horse's feet, who plunged and
shivered beneath her restraining hand ; she sat
erect and held him subdued.
" I knew that you returned my love," she con-
tinued; " and here you are creeping close to me at
the sound of my voice, to assure me of your
good understanding with me. We are friends.
Are we not both wild, and fascinatirg, and sad,
and unrestrainable ? You have many lovers,
ocean ! and so have I ; but I have not the one
whom alone of all I sought. You toss ships,
and treasures, and men into destruction to prove
your power ; why should not I toss one poor,
feeble heart aside, to prove mine ?"
92 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
Perhaps she waited for an answer to her hard
question, forgetful, in the whirl of her excited
mind, that the friendship of the sea was not to
be trusted ; again the breakers rolled in ; and
this time they swept her away. They hurled
her off her horse, whose frightened scream she
heard as the cold waves deluged him. They
drove the blinding mist into her eyes ; they seized
upon her breath ; they chilled her heart, and
she knew no more of what they did with her.
The sea was not very cruel, after all. It would
do by her as she would do by others: if she
would toss a human heart aside as mad, it would
toss her aside; yet not quite hopelessly. When
it had played with her a moment, it threw her
chilled and senseless upon the pitiless shore,
where she must have very soon perished, had
not a horseman, as by providence, come riding
down that way.
It was Harry Fletcher, who had followed his
sister into town to talk with Eichard about the
news, and had been sent by her in search of the
long- absent girl who had ridden off alone toward
the ocean. He threw himself beside her, and drag-
OF FACTS STKANGER THAN FICTION. 93
ged her away from danger ; he took her head upon
his bosom, and chafed her hands, and kissed her
lips ; it was in vain to try to resuscitate her there,
and her wet garments were freezing around her.
He flung her light form over his horse's neck,
sprang into the saddle, and rode to the first farm-
house.
Poor Jenny, Margaret's beautiful black pony,
was not thought of in that moment ; the waves
did not treat her as kindly as they did the mis-
tress who compelled her into danger she drifted
out, and went down to darkness and death.
The people who lived at the farm-house had a
large fire and a bed in the sitting-room. They had
had cases of drowning to attend to before this one,
and with skill and kindness they soon revived the
sufferer. The woman put dry garments upon her,
covered her in the bed, and gave her a little wine.
Harry was admitted to see her lying pale and beau-
tiful upon the pillow, to hear her whisper, "I
thank you," to him, as her preserver for although
Sarah was not happy, she was young, and not
really quite ready to die to meet the glance of
her sad eyes beaming almost tenderly upon him,
6
94 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
and then lie rode away after Margaret to come and
stay the night with her.
When he returned with his sister, they found her
doing very well ; there was a faint color in her
cheeks borrowed from the heat of the fire which
blazed opposite ; she looked so subdued and gentle
that she was hardly like the same Sarah who had
left her home two hours before. Her hair, from
which the salt sea was drying, had parted into a
thousand little shining strands, indescribably beau-
tiful. Harry, now that the fright was over, was
completely overcome ; his overstretched nerves re-
laxed ; as he sat by the bed the tears welled quietly
from his eyes, and were wiped away. The people
were all out of the room, and Margaret went too
for something which the invalid needed.
"You need not weep any more," said the young
girl in a faint voice, reaching out her hand across
the bed to him; "you shall have the life which
you have saved."
He gazed at her an instant as if afraid that he
mistook.
" If you dare take so wild a creature, I will be
yours."
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 95
The half smile and blush assured him that he
had heard aright; and he bowed his lips to that
hand which had been given him, in a thrill of joy
too sudden for words.
CHAPTER Y.
"The breath of the morning is with her,
Wherever my darling goes.
" "What if, with her sunny hair,
And smile as sunny as sweet,
She meant to weave me a snare
Of some coquettish deceit ?"
TENNYSON VMATTD."
SAEAH IKYING had neither father nor mother.
She inherited a few thousand dollars, over which
she now, being of age, held entire control, and
lived with an uncle and aunt who were childless.
They loved her very tenderly, and had indulged
her too much for the true good of so wayward a
spirit. After losing her parents, and when be-
tween eight and twelve years of age, she had
visited amid her friends and relations, her home
being unsettled; and as she was beautiful, win-
ning, and heiress to some wealth, she was every-
where petted and caressed. The strong will of
her wild but interesting nature grew unchecked;
when she finally found a permanent resting-place
FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 97
at her Uncle living's. They were afraid of even
the appearance of uokindness to the orphan, and
allowed her to grow just as her own character
inclined itself.
All the wildness about her might have been
trained into exquisite proportions, but she came
up like the forest vine. All owned the charm.
of her very willfulness, while few foresaw that it
would ever bring her any trouble.
All that there was unusual about her was very
bewitching. Her laughter and her frown had beau-
ty in them ; her gracefulness knew no rules ; she
herself made the laws which governed her dress
and her manners. If, sometimes, she was angry,
it was only a flash of summer lightning, break-
ing out from her dark eyes, and revealing more
clearly her warm and glorious beauty. If she
took offense without reason, she was as quick as
the humblest child to implore pardon for her mis-
deeds.
So here she was in her nineteenth year, and no
persons but the envious had ever found serious
fault with her, until the next morning after her
accident, when her aunt and uncle heard of her
98 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
*
last night's peril. They had supposed her safe at
Mr. Wilde's, until the news arrived, by way of
Harry, the next day; and then their fright and
anxiety convinced them, for the first time, that
their niece was altogether too careless, and too full
of wild freaks to be trusted ; and they gave the
poor child a lecture, meant to be very severe,
when they arrived at the cottage where she was
waiting to be taken home.
The husky voice in which her uncle scolded, and
the kiss with which her aunt was finally obliged to
turn suspicion from a tell-tale tear, showed Sarah
that they were not half so offended with her as she
deserved. She got comfortably home, and there
was nothing then to cry about but the loss of the
pony. Margaret shed many tears for him, and
Sarah accused herself vehemently for his loss.
Harry could not grieve even for poor Jenny.
He thought his happiness cheaply purchased by
her life. If he had been as cool and calm in his
love-matters as in his business affairs, his good
sense would have taught him to have feared the
stability of words spoken under such circumstances.
Gratitude is not love; and it remained to show
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 99
whether even that sentiment would diminish or
increase. He did not stop to think ; his being was
absorbed in feeling ; his mental faculties were
buried in a delicious stupor, while his heart held
high revel.
That evening he went to see Sarah. He found
her sitting in a large arm-chair before the fire,
a crimson shawl wrapped about her, and the hair
brushed back plainly from her somewhat pale fore-
head, and falling in clusters of curls around her
shoulders. She received him very quietly, yet
very pleasantly ; he had never seen her when she
appeared so perfectly contented, and to be enjoying
such sweet repose ; every trace of restlessness had
gone from her voice and manner. It was the calm
after the tempest ; the peace of exhaustion ; the girl
felt as if her destiny had been decided for her, and
she was too weary to struggle with it any longer
she would take it as it came, and be glad that
circumstances had taken the trouble of any further
doubt away from her.
If a dream had flitted across his brain during
the day, that a promise made under such exciting
impulses should not be relied upon, he forgot it
100 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
now, as he gazed and gazed upon that serene
countenance with the intensity of hope and passion.
Her aunt had said, as she retired to her own sitting-
room, that Sarah must go to bed early ; and Harry,
fearful of fatiguing her, staid but a little while,
and made no reference to the great event of the
previous evening. But when he arose to go, he
bent over her, and pressed his first kiss upon her
lips ; then he looked into her face with a lover's
boldness, to see how she received it. Her eyes were
cast down, but she neither smiled nor frowned. Ob,
how he yearned to have her look up and give
him one radiant glance in answer to the love
which was beaming from his gaze one of her
sweet, swift glances, only it should be touched
with a new beauty of timidity and affection ; but
those eyes were still modestly downcast, so he
said "good-night," softly, and went out from her
presence.
It was a great comfort to Margaret to hear of
the engagement of Sarah to her brother. She was
rejoiced not only that their happiness seemed now
secured, but she felt much more contented about
leaving her mother, since a new daughter was
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 101
going into the family, whose high spirits would
keep loneliness from haunting the old homestead,
and whose merry fingers and sweet voice would
fill the parlor with the old, beloved melodies.
The holidays came and were spent in the usual
round of feasting and gayeties, the cheerfulness
becoming to the season being shaded a little by
the thought that it was the last time for many
years that Margaret would grace the family circle
Eichard said that just as soon as the great tide of
emigration setting westward made the journey
back less difficult, that his wife should return and
stay as long as she wished ; but it would be a long
time before they could hope for such a state of
civilization, and in the mean time, what might not
happen ? "Who, of all these dear ones, would be
missed from the group, when she returned?
Would her mother not probably be taken away
before that? What loss might not sickness and
accident bring? Such questions were continually
stirring in Margaret's heart, and dimming her
eyes with tears in the midst of the brightest
hours.
*
After New Year's they were all very busy aiding
102 MOKMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
in the preparation for the long and wearisome
journey. Eichard had his business to settle up,
and Margaret the providing of such comforts as it
was possible to take with them. Sarah sewed for
her many an hour, and Mrs. Fletcher's most abid-
ing thought was " What more can I do for them ?
what else can I add to their store of necessaries ?"
The young couple had possessed a large circle
of friends and admirers ; but the tide of popular
feeling was now against them, and there were but
few who expressed their good- will either by cheer-
ing words or tokens of affection.
Eichard's own father was very bitter; the min-
ister was bitterer still. He called upon Mrs.
"Wilde, when he first heard of their intention,
to know if it was possible that she, a member of
his church, could cast such discredit upon her
profession, as to consent, for any reason, to accom-
. any her husband into the midst of a wicked and
f IPO people.
jfargaret wept a good deal daring his visit, and
expressed /her own regret at the step, but said
firmly that where Eichard went she must go,
and expressed her hope that this delusion of liis
OF FACTS STKANGER THAN FICTION. 103
might result in the conversion of his soul to the
true religion in the course of time.
The pastor represented the enormities and idol-
atries of the Mormons in indignant terms, and left
his lamb of the fold feeling very lost, unsettled,
and unhappy. Eichard, in turn, had an equally
warm and indignant defense to set up : he dwelt
upon the persecutions to which a homeless and
peaceful people had been subjected; called for
proof that there was any thing evil in their habits
or belief ; commended their wisdom and prudence,
and their wonderful patience, perseverance and in-
dustry. He painted their future success and pros-
perity in almost too glowing terms ; for Margaret
apprehended that his mind was more captivated by
the projected splendor of their worldly enterprises,
than by their religion.
She had nothing to do, however, but to sub-
mit, to pray more fervently, and to trust, with a
woman's faith, that all would be well.
As for Harry, as the weeks flew by he was
not quite so happy as he had expected to be.
Sarah had gone back into her old capricious
moods; and try to be satisfied as he might, he
104 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
could not shake off a feeling of discontent at her
conduct. Sometimes she was wrapped away out
of his sight in a cloak of cold reserve ; again she
was sad, and could give no explanation of her
gloom ; then she put on a bewildering, tantalizing
gayety ; occasionally she gave him a playful caress
or a thrilling glance, but never did he find her in
that subdued, tender and loving mood for which
he longed.
" She does not love me, and she will never make
me happy why do I not resign her at once ?" he
asked himself again and again, and always the
answer was "I can not give her up ; she is only
wayward, a wild bird that refuses to be tamed, yet
ah! so beautiful I"
And at the vision of her beauty the resolution to
prove himself wise and proud melted into air.
One evening he sat with her and others in her
uncle's parlor. She was in one of her unapproach-
able and queenly guises, not petulant, but cold.
She sat near the lamp, and made it an excuse to
be very busy with her crocheting of, a purse for
him, that she need talk but little. He asked to
hold the little ball of blue silk, but she put it in her
OF FACTS STRANGER THAK FICTION. 105
pocket ; he essayed to make her drop a stitch and
she received his pleasantry very seriously.
At last he gave up the hope of interesting her
and sat gazing rather sullenly upon her bright,
impassive face, with its downcast eyes fixed upon
her work. Suddenly a step and voice were heard
in the hall ; the blood rushed into Sarah's cheeks ;
her hand trembled so that she dropped more than
one stitch ; the full blaze of the lamp shone upon
her, and Harry could see how her heart beat rap-
idly beneath its bodice. She was aware that she
had betrayed agitation, and she turned her chair
nervously so as to shade her face.
It was only Eichard Wilde who entered, and
presently the young girl was calm again ; but her
lover was not ; he it was who was now silent and
reserved, yet who noted with a jealous eye how soft
and rich a tone her voice took on unconsciously as
she answered the new comer, how the flush lin-
gered on her cheek, and how she stole glances at
his married brother which he would have periled
his soul to win. In vain she now became conde-
scending and social to him, striving to cover past
haughtiness with present humility ; gloom was upon
106 FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION.
his brow and the agony of mistrust in his heart.
Harry might have been mistaken in his fierce sus-
picion ; he was a jealous lover, and
" Trifles light as air
Are, to the jealous, confirmation strong
As proofs of holy writ."
CHAPTER VI.
"And ever in soft dreams
Of future love and peace sweet converse lapt
Our willing fancies, till the pallid beams
Of the last watchfire fell, and darkness wrapt
The waves, and each bright chain of floating fire was snapt
"And till we came even to the city's wall,
And the great gate, then, none knew whence or why
Disquiet on the multitude did fall."
SHELLEY.
THE twentieth day of March had arrived the*
day set for the departure of Eichard and Margaret
from the home of their youth for a far, uncivilized
land. They were to go to New York, and there
join a company who were bound for the same
goal, proceed from there to St. Louis by railroad,
take a boat up the Missouri, buying horses and
wagons at the latter city to use in passing the
vast plains and discouraging mountains which lay
between the furthermost-bound boat and their re-
mote destination.
A weeping group was gathered about the youth-
ful adventurers. Margaret summoned all her res-
108 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
olution when the carriage, which was to convey
them to the depot, came to the door. One by one
her friends embraced her, and their tears fell hot
upon her cheeks. She would not give way to the
sobs which choked her when her father and mother
took her in their arms, for fear of adding to their
already too burdensome grief. Last of all came
Sarah to say good-by. She had been laughing and
jesting all the morning, as it seemed, with a brave
endeavor to keep up the spirits of the rest of the
i
party ; but as she gave her hand to Eichard, and
he kissed her with tear-blinded eyes as he had the
rest of his friends, she turned very pale. Giving
her hand from his grasp to that of Margaret, she
tried to say her farewell, but her lips quivered
without any sound, and she fell fainting into her
arms. Here was an event which added to their
already excited feelings ; but the carriage could not
wait. Margaret kissed the white cheek of her
childhood's companion, and amid repressed sobs
of grief, was led out and lifted into the vehicle.
Their first half-day's ride was gloomy enough.
Margaret had her vail over her face to conceal the
tears which flowed silently but plentifully. There
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 109
was something exhilarating in the swift motion of
the cars, and her unrestrained weeping had " eased
her heart," so that, at last, by the persuasions of
Eichard, she lifted her vail, and allowed herself to
be diverted by the variety of scenes through which
they impetuously swept.
In New York they had a day or two of sight-
seeing, the rest of the company not being quite
ready for their journey. Her husband was so full
of hope and animation, that Margaret would have
been tolerably content were it not for the thought
of those she was leaving behind. She had traveled
but little a trip to Niagara with her father being
almost the extent of her experiences so that all
things had the charm of novelty.
Their company was made up of the superior
class of emigrants men like Eichard, who were
of some fortune and education, and who, perhaps,
like him, had some other than religious motives in
embarking their all in such a venture with their
families, women following their husbands as Euth
did Naomi, and a few children who knew but little
except of the pleasures of continual change.
They were weary enough of their long ride when
110 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
they reached St. Louis ; here they had a day or two
in which to rest, while procuring stores for theii
journey, cattle, wagons and provisions, and wait-
ing for a boat.
The spring rain had swelled the river, so that
their boat panted and puffed along quite steadily.
They were ten days in reaching Council Bluffs,
where they were to begin the most tedious part of
their wanderings.
Those ten days were really enjoyed by Margaret.
She had now become somewhat acquainted with
her fellow-passengers, with all of whom she was
rendered a favorite by her personal beauty and
sweetness of disposition. Many of them she liked
in return. They had various kinds of amusements
to beguile their time going on in the cabin ; but as
the weather was quite warm and dry, it was her
chief enjoyment to sit out on deck with Kichard,
marking the scenery through which they passed,
and talking over the future and the past. Not
even in the days of their betrothal had he been at
more pains to make himself agreeable to her. He
seemed to dread lest home-sickness should take
possession of her, and to avert that calamity he was
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. Ill
more lover-like than ever. As they passed the
Bluffs, which rose in beautiful terraces, now close
to the shore, and now sweeping further back into
the country, he would point out every new charm,
and talk with a winning eloquence about the wild,
free, beautiful life tney would live in that far away
new world, that wonderful Atlantis, where all of
nature's magnificence would be theirs, and wealth,
and honor had only to be sought and found.
The conventionalities, the cold-hearted formal-
ities of civilized barbarism should not fetter them
there. It is true that they would dwell in a city,
but a city unlike any other that ever was built a
city of sisters and brothers living in peace and
delight. They would be free to worship in the
grandest temples of nature, to love the beautiful, to
grow out of the harshness and conventionality of old
ceremonies each into his own individuality. Their
natures would expand like the glorious prairies
around them, and their unfettered hearts would
expand with the worship of all things pure, and
truthful, and free, and thus they would ever be-
come capable of a more perfect love toward one
another. As their spiritual being grew in beauty
112
toward the Above, their union would become still
more what the angels would contemplate with pleas-
ure, so that the ever-increasing fairness of their
pathway through life would lead them, at length,
both to a still more lovely life in another world.
These were a few of the anticipations which he
poured into her fascinated ear as they sat alone on
the deck, oftentimes in the mystic moonlight, which
gave all their surroundings a weird and softened
look, while her little hand nestled itself in his, and
he rounded all his most eloquent periods with a
kiss upon her smiling mouth. How could she
choose but take him at his word, and believe that
they were really just about entering a new At-
lantis, the most beautiful the world ever dreamed
of? At least, whether it were a desert or a para-
dise, she was with her husband, and he loved her,
and would love her yet more and more.
Arrived at Council Bluffs the party put them-
selves in marching order. They joined another
company who had come from St. Louis in wagons,
and, in all, numbered a hundred fighting men, who
were all well armed, and half as many women and
children. There was quite an array, and as the
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 113
weather was fine and provisions ample, the emi-
grants were in fine spirits. - f .
A slight cloud came over them, though, the first
day, as they reached the little village, a few miles
beyond Council Bluffs, where the Mormons had
wintered, a large body of them, the season before.
They had extemporized this village for their win-
ter quarters; cold, famine, and disease had made
sad havoc with their numbers, and more than a
hundred new-made graves met the startled eyes
of their brethren who followed after/ This un-
fortunate company of saints, when they left, but a
few weeks previous, this, their unhappy stopping-
place, shook the dust from off their feet, and
cursed it in sorrow and bitterness of heart
The memory of the rest of that lon'g and perilous
pilgrimage became afterward like a fever-dream to
Margaret ; it haunted her like something she had
endured, and yet which had no reality. During its
progress she thought often of that vivid picture in
" Alton Locke's" wonderful fever-vision. She re-
peated it to her husband ; and as it is an altogether
more true and sublime history of her journeying
than we can give, we quote it :
8
114 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
" The noise of wheels crushing slowly through
meadows of tall marigolds and asters, orchises and
fragrant lilies. * * * So I slept, and woke,
and slept again, day after day, week after week, in
the lazy bullock-wagon, among herds of gray cattle
guarded by huge, lop-eared mastiffs ; among shag-
gy, white horses, heavy-horned sheep, and silky
goats ; among tall, bare-limbed men, with stone
axes on their shoulders and horn bows at their
backs. Westward, through the boundless steppes,
whither or- why we knew not, but that the All-
Father had sent us forth. And behind us, the rosy
snow-peaks died into ghastly gray, lower and
lower as every evening came; and before us the
plains spread infinite, with gleaming salt-lakes, and
ever fresh tribes of gaudy flowers. Behind us,
dark lines of living beings streamed down the
mountain slopes; around us, dark lines crawled
along the plains all westward westward ever.
The tribes of the Holy Mountain poured out like
water to replenish the earth and subdue it love-
streams from the creator of that great soul- volcano
Titan babes, dufcib angels of God, bearing with
them, in their unconscious pregnancy, the law, the
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 115
freedom, the science, the poetry, the Christianity of
Europe and the world.
" Westward ever who could stand against us ?
"We met the wild asses on the steppe, and tamed
them, and made them our slaves. We slew the
bison-herds, and swam broad rivers on their skins.
The Python-snake lay across our path ; the wolves
and the wild dogs snarled at us out of their coverts ;
we slew them, and went on. The forests rose in
black, tangled barriers ; we hewed our way through
them, and went on. Strange giant tribes met us,
and eagle-visaged hordes, fierce and foolish; we
smote them, hip and thigh, and went on westward
ever. Days and weeks rolled on, and our wheels
rolled on with them."
So to Margaret's excited imagination seemed their
long, long wanderings. She saw great prairies all
in a whirl and splendor of flame ; broad, nameless
rivers glittered in the sunlight; she breathed the
aroma of unknown flowers ; she heard the scream
of the panther and the yell of the wild Indian ; she
saw hills standing up against the sky, which they
were to wearily climb ; she trernbled at times with
fear, and again she thrilled with speechless pleasure
116 FACTS STKANGER THAN FICTION.
as she looked abroad over lands of wonderful mag-
nificence.
They left more than one new grave to its awfuU
solitude in the wilderness ; and they welcomed two
or three infant souls, born in sorrow and discomfort,
to a place in their never-resting company. More
than once they thirsted for water, and were mocked
by glittering springs and pools of salt and bitter
waters ; again, they feasted upon delicious berries
gathered at morning from the dewy plains ; and so
with joy and pain they traveled on, till they found
an abiding-place in the eager, hospitable heart of
the Great City of the Saints.
CHAPTER VII.
"The mother, with her dewy eye,
Is dearer than the blushing bride
Who stood, three happy years gone by,
In beauty by my side."
BURLEIGH.
FOE a couple of months after their arrival, the
Wildes, like many others, lived in a tent or canvas
house. It was glorious autumn weather ; the
world around them had on a gorgeous appareling
of purple mist, and flowery prairies, and many-
hued foliage, such as they had never seen in their
chilly, New England home ; and Margaret, for a
time, was all enthusiasm. Her novel mode of life
had a thousand charms for her poetical nature,
which had found but little at home to stimulate, it,
except the ocean, ever grand, ever unequaled, and
whose green or purple waves she loved to fancy in
the soft swell of the grassy plains lying beneath her
gaze. It was a luxury to sit in her tent-door and
feel the delicious air blowing about her, sweet with
118 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
the breath of a million dying blossoms ; and a still
greater luxury to mount the Indian pony which
Eichard had presented her, and ride away by his
side into the sublime solitudes which surrounded
the city.
Bitter drops soon began to distill into her cup of
sweets. Her day-dreams were broken in upon con-
stantly by uncongenial companions. The women
of Utah were talkative and inquisitive more than
women usually are, for the simple reason that their
homes were not happy and they did not believe
in any of their number setting themselves up to be
unsocial or exclusive. They were disposed to show
Margaret more attention than she cared to recipro-
cate. She was very much disappointed in the char-
acter of the community generally. She was a stout
republican, and yet she felt it impossible to frater-
nize with some who claimed her friendship.
The city itself was busy, prosperous, neat and
pleasant: and Kichard was full of animation and
ambition ; but Margaret grew all the time less satis-
fied. She began to get glimpses of the true state of
religion and domestic morals amid the people. She
could hardly tolerate their religious ceremonies, but
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 119
attended them in obedience to the wishes of her
husband. Her pure nature was inexpressibly shock-
ed by those other principles which she dreaded, and
yet was compelled to believe were rife amid the
community. Eichard glossed the matter over for a
while to her, but her female friends were continually
revealing facts to her, and endeavoring to elicit her
sentiments. She gave them no room to doubt of
her displeasure and detestation. The severity of
her rebuke was more than they could bear, and
Richard was soon given to understand that his wife
must use more discretion that it was not becoming
for a stranger in their midst to inveigh against ex-
isting institutions.
Richard's desires that she should keep her own
counsels, were very earnestly expressed. He was
ambitious ; he wished to make a fortune ; but most
he aspired to gain influence over his fellow-men.
This, by means of his tact and brilliant talents, he
was rapidly acquiring, and he could not be thwart-
ed in his aims by having a prejudice gotten up
against his beautiful wife. He wished her to con-
ciliate to use her fine powers of pleasing, as he did
Jiis own, for selfish purposes. Bat this he dared
120 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
not ask of her ; in truth, he was not yet so selfish
in his love of power, that he wished to see his wife
any less modest, truthful, gentle, and pure than she
was.
"When talking with her, he condemned, as heart-
ily as she could wish, the sin which threatened to
undermine their social foundations, but he made her
promise silence.
Margaret was almost sorry when their little adobe
house was finished the tent was so novel and
charming ; but a cold breath of wind sweeping in
through the canvas, proclaimed the approach of
winter, and the comforts of a more substantial
dwelling.
" It is not equal to the home we left," she said
with a sigh, when the few articles of plain furniture
were arranged in the four small rooms which com-
pleted the cottage. "Oh, for my beloved piano,
and our books, Kichard I"
"Wait just a few years until we have our
railroad built, darling; then you shall have a
piano, and every thing else that your heart can
imagine. This is but a temporary home. I am
going to be a rich man, Maggie, a very rich man ;
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 121
and you are to reign as a kind of queen over this
new Atlantis."
" Ah, Kichard, I have no ambition of that 'kind ;
I only dread lest your glowing schemes lead you
unconsciously into selfishness. I only fear that
your heart, which is now all mine, will be divided
between me and the idols of your earthly ambition.
For the world with all its splendor, J would not
have you lose your singleness of heart, your pure
tastes, your love of the beautiful, your devotion to
me," she added with a blushing smile, though the
tears were in her eyes, so earnestly she spoke.
She put her arms about his neck,- and leaned her
head in her chttd-like manner against his breast.
" The touch of this beautiful head upon my
bosom is worth more than all my hopes of worldly
success to me," he said, in his most deep and tender
tone. " Never never shall I do any thing which
shall prevent it from reposing thus confidingly
upon my heart, my wife Margaret."
"My wife Margaret 1" the musical, impassioned
tone his voice assumed in breathing her name,
thrilled her heart with the sweetest happiness.
Her new home grew all perfection to her then.
122 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
It was invested with the one glory which alone
can gild with true splendor either palace or cot-
tage ; the one radiance whose beauty no jewels
can emulate ; the one sunlight which makes sum-
mer in the dreariest climate.
" I am content with your love ; and would be any-
where," she said, after a moment of blissful silence.
" And a Iqving husband may atone for the want
of a piano ?" he asked, playfully.
" Yes ; that is, if he will sing for me the songs he
used to sing in the moonlight nights at home. His
voice is sweeter to me than any instrument."
" For that piece of flattery, then, I will repay you
with your old favorite let me see, w^iich one ?"
"I can wait a little while," said Margaret, laugh-
ing. " Moonlight airs will not sound accordant
before tea. Look ! the table is spread, and we will
partake of our first feast in the new house ; and it
will really be a feast, for a neighbor brought us
this delicious wild-honey to-day, and here are your
favorite cakes. We have coffee, too, made of
barley, which, with rich cream, is a drink not to be
scorned. We will have to drink it altogether,
hereafter, for I have given away all the tea we
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 123
brought with us to the old ladies of my acquaint-
ance, who are not used to being deprived of it, and
who really need it. That was right, wasn't it
dear ? for you care but little about tea, and we are
young, and can do without.' 7
"It was just like you, Maggie, and so I can not
say that I have any fault to find," was the affection-
ate reply; "though I think you had better have
saved one paper for yourself; you may need it by-
and-by."
" Not so much as they. How do you like bar-
ley-coffee ?"
' It 's as good as Mocha for me. This wild-
honey is one'of the sweets of barbarism, isn't it?"
" Say rather of nature. And I think it all the
more delicious when I remember that it was gath-
ered from prairie-flowers by bees, yellow-belted,
striped, and tattooed like Indian furies, coming
down in tiny hordes upon the frightened blossoms,
with spears all poised, to rifle them of their precious
stores. There is something romantic about our
repast, not unfit to be associated with poetry, re-
minding me of the feasting of Adam and Eve."
" That kind of poetic feeling is associated with
124 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
almost all that I do," replied Kichard. "There is
a charm the charm of wildness, and freedom from
old customs about every thing ; as if, in this far-
away west, we were indeed living in the beginning
of creation, or, at least, in another, newer world.
There is nothing to trammel my energies, no prec-
edent which I must follow, every thing is free, and
great, and boundless, and my spirit swells to a kin-
dred greatness."
"If it only were not for the people, Eichard,
I should think that our dreams might be realized.
But any amount of self-deception can not hide
the fact that, instead of escaping the evils and
stains of society, we have riveted around us those
of a more degrading kind. Instead of the re-
serve and coldness of New England civilization,
we have the interference and curiosity of ignorance
and prejudice. If we were living in the midst of
a few choice people, such as we would have chosen
for ourselves, we should indeed believe the Atlantis
was found."
"What do you think," said Kichard, after a
pause, " was proposed, to me, to-day, by one of
the leading elders?"
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 125
Margaret drew in her breath, and said she
could not guess.
"Nothing less than that, as my new house was
now finished, and had four good rooms, and as I
promised fair to be a man of influence, he thought
it best for me to set a good example by taking
another wife."
The young husband laughed merrily at the in-
dignant and breathless acorn of his beautiful com-
panion.
"How did he dree to insult you so grossly?"
she asked, when she Laci recovered somewhat from
her astonishment.
" Do you suppose he thought it an insult, darling ?"
" But I am sure ycu showed him that you con-
sidered it so."
' Well, I told him that I was a good Mormon,
but that I must have the privilege of managing my
domestic affairs as I pleased ; tuat I loved the wife
I had very dearly, and could not think of taking
, another as long as that was the case."
" I presume some envious woman who bofr^dg**
me my happiness was at the bottom of tiia
gestion," said Margaret.
8
126 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
" Or, perhaps, some woman who has become en-
amored of my beauty," said Kichard, laughing at
his own vanity.
" I should not wonder," answered the wife, look-
ing up into his handsome face with a proud smile.
" As if she thought my Kichard was to be won 1"
" They little dream of what true love is, Maggie,
or true happiness, either. Strange ! that people will
thus wreck their own best interests, and involve
themselves in all kinds of intricate, miry laby-
rinths, chasing after an ignis fatuus, when the star
of peace burns brightly at home. But since we
are among them we must take the good and leave
the evil. Think as little of it as you can, my
darling ; and perhaps in time the community will
see its own folly, and return to the true life."
" Well, I am almost glad that it is coming win-
ter, that I may make the weather and my health
an excuse for not going out. I can not forget
my Puritan education, Eichard, far enough to as-
sociate with those women without a shudder of
dislike."
"You must remember that they are deceived,
that they do wrong just when trying most earnestly
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 127
to do right. Many of them are forced into their
present circumstances, and are unhappy enough
to merit your pity."
" And I do pity them," said the happy, beloveci
wife.
After this, Margaret made bad weather and
delicate health an excuse for staying closely at
home. She treated all who 'came to see her with
that kindness which was a part of her nature, but
she had no real association except with two or
three cultivated families, where but one wife pre-
sided over the household, and who had tastes
and habits similar to her own. Her time was
nearly all occupied, as she kept no help, except
a little girl of thirteen, who did the coarsest of
the work, and her basket was always full of
sewing, ready for her leisure moments. Some
little garments which laid therein may have been
indebted to her home-sickness for many an elabo-
rate pattern patiently wrought out.
"All the pride of the flesh, and wicked in the
sight of God, the putting so much work on a baby's
clothes ;" so one of her pious and meddling neigh-
V>rs informed her.
128 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
But Margaret loved to look at the little ward-
robe, made beautiful by countless stitches of her
embroidery-needle. It gladdened tier he^rt, and
solaced many a lonely liour when Hichard was
away. He was scarcely at home at all, except
evenings, his business was becoming so engrossing ;
and she would have grown home-sick beyond en-
durance had it not 'been for this labor of love,
The knowledge that he had invested his money
. profitably, and was getting rich ; that when the
city grew, as its enthusiastic inhabitants believed it
would, to be the grandest city in the world the
gathering-together place of the saints all over the
earth, the dazzling focus of all the rays of true
glory upon earth, the future home of the immor-
tals he would be one of the foremost of regal
and magnificent princes of the Lord's people, was
the ever-present consolation for the time and
thought he was obliged to give in order to work
out his purpose. Much as she loved him, she
could not hear these things from his lips without
a secret trembling of mistrust and apprehension in
that heart which possessed a woman's intuition.
When Christmas came, it found Margaret the
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 129
mother of a healthy and beautiful boy. When
Eichard came home, as he did three or four times
,
a day as long as she was confined to her bed, and
looked at the fair young wife fast gaining her
strength and bloom again, and the little child
lying sweetly upon her bosom, and realized that
they were both his his priceless treasures he
deemed himself a proud and contented man.
" I thought you as lovely as you could be when
you were a timid girl and I scarcely dare kiss your
reluctant hand," he said, in those accents of praise
so dear to a young mother ; " but you are far mor0
beautiful now ; you are my Margaret now, and this
is our child, for which I bless you."
The happy and important news, with tidings of
the welfare of all, were written home, and dis-
patched by the first messengers who wended their
weary way back to civilization.
Margaret was seldom home-sick now. This new
charge absorbed her interest and love. It was only
when she thought, "What would father say to
such a great fair boy as this ? Oh, if mother could
see the darling wouldn't she go wild with joy?"
and, " Ah, if they could see how fast he grows,"
9
130 FACTS STBANGER THAN FICTION.
and " what darling little curls" and " deep blue
eyes," etc., etc. after the fashion of mothers with
their first babies that she pined very much for
her old home.
The baby was, in truth, a fine child. The most
spiteful mother of squint-eyed, cross, or scraggy
children, would have been compelled to admit
that Mrs. Wilde's boy, Harry as they called him
after brother Harry was a beauty.
Surely those little delicate robes were none too
pretty for such a baby; so that even the pious
neighbor who had twitted her of the "pride of
the flesh," acknowledged that he looked "dredful
handsome" in them.
CHAPTER VIII.
Thou wast lovelier than the roses
In their prime ;
Thy voice excelled the closes
Of sweetest rhyme ;
Thy heart was as a river
"Without a main.
"Would I had loved thee never,
Florence Vane 1"
PHILIP COOKS.
THE most unhappy of all the friends who wit-
nessed the departure of Margaret and Eichard from
their native village, on that twentieth day of
March, was Harry Fletcher. His eyes had kept
guard over Sarah all the morning, and when she
fainted in his sister's arms he did not wait to see
her recover, but mounted his horse and rode back
at full speed to the farm. There he dashed into
the hardest work he could find, and labored fu-
riously all day long. Margaret and he had always
been so tenderly attached that no one thought
strange of his gloom.
As soon as it was dark, he started for Mr. Irv-
132 .MORMON WIVES; A NAKEATIVE
ing's. "When he knocked at the door, the servant-
girl came to him, and told him that Miss Irving
was not well enough to see any one that evening.
"I saw her walking in the portico about five
minutes ago, so I know she is up," was the reply.
" Tell her I must see her a few moments, this even-
ing I will not detain her long."
As it was bright moonlight, Sarah came out on
the porch where he was, a shawl wrapped about
her to keep off the chilly March wind. She found
her lover walking slowly back and forth; he did
not pause or speak when she first appeared, but
after two or three moments he stopped, and they
stood facing each other.
" I can not endure this any longer, Sarah ; this
night must put an end to it. You have not made
me a contented man with our engagement."
He tried to speak calmly, but the quiver in his
voice told how deeply he was agitated. For a mo-
ment she looked conscience-stricken; but her un-
tamed spirit was not the one to brook words of
anger and reproach, and she curled her full lip
slightly as she replied
" I know not of what you complain. If you are
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 133
not happy, and wish, to break the engagement, it is
not for me to object."
" I complain of your capricious conduct toward
me."
" I did not promise that I would never be too
gay or too gloomy : I did not promise to subdue
all my moods to the wish of a tyrannical lover
nor will I."
"Well! I do not ask you to. I come to say
that, being now thoroughly convinced of the un-
happy reason for your dissatisfied heart, I come to
resign all claims upon that which was never mine."
The look of disdain passed away as the young
girl stood, with changing color, silently beneath
his eye.
" I wish, also, to remind you that T never asked
your love but once; that you then refused it, but
afterward, of your own free will, you offered it to
me."
" And oh, I tried to keep my pledge," said the girl.
"I do not blame you for your unfortunate at-
tachment. It was formed, I doubt not, before you
had reason to regard it as hopeless. I only pity
you and myself."
134 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
"I assure you that it was encouraged yes,
Harry Fletcher, miserably as my pride dislikes to
acknowledge it, I was deceived into the belief
that the love which finally settled upon another
was about to become mine. I had a hard struggle
to conceal my disappointment. I thought myself
more proud, more strong. I have been wretchedly
weak I despise myself, at times. I have wished
always that I could love you, for my own sake, as
well as yours. It was with an earnest, prayerful
wish and belief that I should yet regard you, as
you deserve, a pure desire to make you happy, and
to conquer my own waywardness^ that I offered
myself to you. I was determined that you should
never see any want of devotion on my part, and I
trusted that soon I should be all yours in truth as
I was in appearance. I have not succeeded as I
ought; I have wronged you, I know; but, ah! you.
can not have been any more troubled about it
than I have been."
" I do not blame you, Sarah ; I love you too well
to blame you," he said, in a softened tone. " I
grieve for you as much as for myself. But every
sentiment of manly pride or honor within me re-
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 135
yolts at the idea of binding myself to one who mar-
ries me out of compassion, and who not only does
not love me, but does love another."
"I do not love him any longer," burst forth
Sarah, eagerly. " The last chain snapped to-day.
I have been upon my knees almost all day in my
chamber, praying to God for forgiveness of my past
weakness. I have humbled my proud heart before
Him ; and now I must beg that you, too, will for-
give me all the wrong I have done your feelings
all the waywardness I have shown. Say that you
will."
" Your words leave me nothing to forgive."
" I dare not ask you to show any further mercy ;
and yet I do not know that I shall be able to
sustain myself alone. I feel that if you with-
draw your love and esteem from me at this time,
and give me no hope of ever being able to retrieve
the past, that I shall perhaps sink back into my old
wretchedness. Bear with me a little longer, and
love will take the place of gratitude. It will be my
first real love, too," she added; "the other was a
kind of bewilderment at accomplishments and
graces which captivated my youthful fancy a mad
136 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
passion not the earnest and steadfast affection
which is founded upon esteem."
She stood in the moonlight with downcast eyes.
He hesitated; but beauty worked the same Cir-
ceian spell which it has wrought a million times
before. He looked upon the brightness which he
had made up his mind to resign, and his judgment
was no longer free to make its decisions. He felt
that it was more than probable that those passionate
and changeful impulses would yet bring him unhap-
piness ; but he would dare all for ihe glorious prize.
" I hardly dream that I am wise, or that we shall
be happy, Sarah. Without you I surely would be
miserable. If Lucifer stood between us, I would
run the risk. You are all that I think of or hope
for; then why should I deny myself your presence?
I came here to-night resolved that I should leave
you forever your words have not left me the
power to do so. You must be mine; you must
never shrink away from me again. Oh, Sarah ! you
would be awe-stricken if you knew how I loved
you. I can never endure any more mockery or
suspense. But you will never mock me again?
never torture me with any more averted eyes, or
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 137
repelling words ? You will always be as gentle, as
good, as you are this moment ?"
He held her hand so tightly, he gazed into her
face so hopefully, and with such breathless eager-
ness, that she trembled beneath his eyes.
" Let us go in and sit by the fire," she said. " I
feel better able to see company than I did when
you knocked at the door," she added, with one of
her most brilliant smiles.
They went in, and spent a long evening together.
Harry did but little of the talking. His companion
exerted herself as she had never done before to be
kind and attractive. She assumed an irresistible
gayety, just touched with a pensive shade still lin-
gering from their first conversation. Harry aban-
doned himself to the pleasure she inspired ; and
when he left her that night, the day was appointed
for the wedding.
"When Sarah went to her room that night she
bent herself in earnest prayer for a long time. She
asked for strength to complete the good work which
she had begun ; to banish from her mind every
lingering memory of a passion now as sinful as it
was hopeless ; and to cultivate in its place the af
138 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
fection so richly merited by the one to whom she
was so soon to be wedded ; and that night she slept
the untroubled slumber of peace and innocence.
Had she continued this struggle with the faults
and perversities of her nature, they might have been
converted into beauties. Warm-hearted, generous,
charitable, extremely kind to the poor and the sick,
self-forgetful, her many good qualities excited the
admiration of her friends, and made them pass over
her hasty temper, her pride, and her strange ways
of doing strange things, which nobody else would
dare to do. Her high spirits and quick wit made
her follies seem lovable. No one had ever re-
strained her ; and, alas ! poor child ! when, for the
first time, she set seriously to work to restrain and
govern herself, she found it a sad task. Many times
she was discouraged with herself; many times she
shed repentant tears, in the secrecy of her chamber,
over the capriciousness which led her to torment
her lover.
One concession she made to the wrong ; from one
dim chamber of her soul she shut away the light of
conscience, until she could not see that there was
error and danger in the dreams and fancies which
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 139
lingered there. This fatal concession, this fatal
error, was, that while she kept strict guard over her
actions, she allowed her reveries, her day-dreams, to
dwell in weird, revolted realms which refused alle-
giance to the holy land of law and order -the magic
spheres of what might have been and what still was
possible. And these it was that, by subtle and slow
enchantments, wiled her unconsciously, step by step,
from firm land into unreal realms of misty false-
nood ; a mist arose and clouded her moral percep-
tions ; but it was tinged with purple and gold from
the glow of passion, and she saw that it was beauti-
ful, and would not see that it was unreliable.
About this time most sadly, most unfortunately
there came into her hands some of the books and
papers which are now being sown broad-cast over
our land, and which, wherever their doctrines have
taken root, have cursed the ground with thistles
and thorns, instead of blessing it with the lilies and
roses of purity and love. She read about " Free-
Love" and "Psychological Twinships," "Passion-
al Attractions," etc., etc. all made enticing by fair
and proper language, and not seldom invested with
the glory and fascination of genius.
140 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
The works of two or three women of genius, who
have polluted the gifts which God graciously be-
stowed upon them, and repaid Him for the treasures
He intrusted to them, by giving out base, adulter-
ated coin for pure gold who have expressed only
poison from the bright flowers of their fancy, and
pressed it, with smiles of eloquence, to youthful lips
were eagerly perused and re-perused by hei, until
her heart was filled with feverish unrest. May the
souls of all the fair and innocent, who, like Sarah
Irving, have had their youthful imaginations and
youthful passions corrupted by such influence, rise
up in all their terrible sorrow in the clear future,
and accuse these women of all their loss and
misery !
A work more adverse to the true mission of wo-
man they could not have set themselves to do. It
is as if angels, who have pure vessels of incense,
breathing fragrance and delight upon all who ap-
proached, should fill them up with the fires and
flames of the lower world, and tempt other spirits
to taste, unawares, of the draughts which would
blight them eternally.
If it were only men who did this wretched work,
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 141
it would be sad enough. ; but when women turn
1 tempters ! it fills one with a shuddering horror, aa
when the witch Genevieve took the innocent Christ-
abel into her arms and against her bosom.
The wedding-day was not to be until the second
week in September, so that Sarah had the whole
summer before her for preparation. While sitting
sewing in her chamber, she had too many lonely
hours for dangerous dreams. She grew thin, and
the color in her cheek too fluctuating for perfect
health.
Harry had no reason to complain of her con-
duct toward him. She grew more and more
gentle and kind, yielding to his lightest wishes,
and exerting herself to please him. Yet there
was an apathy in her expression when in re-
pose, a failing of spirits and strength, which
dissatisfied him.
" You do not look as well, nor as gay, as you
used to, Sarah," he would say, anxiously.
"Am I not always a little thinner in warm
weather? and had I not ought to begin to as-
sume dignity and gravity, with my new position
staring me so closely in the face?"
142
Her smiles, her jests, and her woman's tact,
deceived him. He allowed himself to love her
with all the depth and fullness of his being, and
to anticipate his swift-coming joy with all the
ardor of unclouded hope.
Both families were pleased with the contemplated
union. Mrs. Fletcher longed for the day when
Margaret's bosom-friend " her sister," as she often
used to call her would come to them as Harry's
wife, and revive something of the old gayety in
the homestead.
A wing-room was built on to the mansion,
with a little portico before it, commanding a pleas-
ant view, and furnished very prettily, expressly for
the young couple.
Sarah went away to Boston once or twice to
purchase her trousseau, for she was fond of ele-
gant apparel, and had a full purse of her own. It
was a great treat to any of her girl companions to
be admitted into her chamber and feast their eyes
upon the rich and beautiful articles which filled the
drawers and closets.
By interesting herself in all the splendor of prep-
aration, and looking forward with pleasure to the
OF FACTS STRANGEB THAN FICTION. 143
effect her own beauty and fashion would have
upon all, the attention she would receive as a
bride, and the important part she should play in
the ceremonies, she half-beguiled herself to think
that love, instead of vanity, was the ruling passion.
Her uncle, being well pleased with her choice,
wished to give her a splendid wedding. He had a
large house, and he wanted it full of guests. As
the day drew nigh, the kitchen was filled with new
help, while dress-makers abounded in the sitting-
room and chambers ; new curtains were hung, and
lamps and vases added to the store ; all that there
was choice in the country was engaged for the
feast, and the neighbors made ready to enjoy it.
At last the wedding-day arrived ; and as it drew
to a close, guests from far and near gathered into
the mansion, from whose every window bright
lights streamed out upon the lawn and through the
shrubbery. Servants hurried hither and thither,
and occasionally a burst of music came upon the
air preparatory to the merry strains which were to
sound, after the marriage supper.
The bride was in her room. She had, with her
usual peculiarity of proceeding, refused to have
144 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
any bridesmaids, and insisted upon making her
tpilet unassisted.
Half an hour before the time appointed for the
ceremony, her aunt knocked at her door, and asked
if she wished any aid, and receiving no reply, went
away, returning in fifteen minutes to say that
Harry was waiting to speak with her, and that the
minister was in the house.
Upon Centering the chamber, she was astonished
to find that Sarah was not there, and that her toilet
was not yet made. The white silk dress, with its
lace trimmings, the beautiful wreath and vail, the
handkerchief, the slippers, and all the little adorn-
ments, were spread out in rich array, ready to
adorn the bride ; but she herself was not there.
"She will be late, as she always is," exclaimed
the good lady, fairly vexed. " Every one here and
waiting, and she not begun to dress yet ! Such a
will-o'-the-wisp. "What can have become of her?"
She bustled from room to room in search of the
tardy bride. She was not up stairs. She went
down into the dining-room and kitchen : she was
not there ; out into the shrubbery, and called softly
" Sarah ! Sarah I" but found her not, and had to go
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 145
back to Harry who was waiting impatiently in his
dressing-room, and tell him that she was not to be
seen or heard of.
" She has not even begun to dress," she said,
half angrily.
Harry turned deadly pale, and sank upon a chair.
"Good Lord! you don't think any thing could
have happened to her?" exclaimed Mrs. Irving,
frightened by his look.
" I do not know, I do not know. Perhaps she
is in her room by this time. Let us go and see."
The whole terrible truth had struck upon the
young man's mind at once, yet he could give no
particular reason for it, and he would not believe
it. He staggered up stairs after the lady, blind
with the sudden rush of the blood from his heart,
not daring to think what he feared, and yet know-
ing his fate, by intuition, all the time.
She was not there !
Distracted by Harry's dreadful look, Mrs. Irving
did not wait as long as she should otherwise have
done, but gave the alarm at once, and immediately
every body was in confusion, hurrying to and fro,
running with lights about the garden and the lawn,
10
146 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
fashing over to the nearest houses, looking at each
other in troubled wonder, guessing, wondering,
fearing.
As time sped on and the missing girl did not
appear, some went to the village in search, some
here and some there ; some sat down and waited,
and the aunt wept and wrung her hands, and the
uncle tried to comfort her.
As for Harry Fletcher, he sat in the bride's
apartment and made no attempt to aid in the
search. No one dared to offer him a word of con-
jecture or consolation. He took no notice of any
thing, but sat staring at the bed where that beau-
tiful dress of snowy silk, those slippers and gloves,
and that bridal vail lay.
The long, long, wretched hours of that night
dragged themselves away ; the guests gradually
dispersed ; the feast remained untouched ; the mu-
sicians departed; and only two or three faintly
glimmering lights, and two or three broken hearts,
remained of all that grand display to welcome in
the gray and miserable dawn.
The next morning all was learned of the fugitive
that was known for some time after. Her money
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 147
had been withdrawn from the bank where it was
placed ; and a lady of youthful figure, closely
vailed, had left in the eastern train of cars that
evening.
It was in this secret flight that Sarah Irving
proved herself a coward. Since she had persuaded
herself that the step she took was right, and nec-
essary to her happiness, she should have had the
courage to avow it to her friends, met their ob-
jections, and saved them the bitter mortification
which she heaped upon their heads. Their hu-
miliation and grief would have been great enough,
if she had prepared them for it ; they would have
been spared a few ' of the keen arrows of public
gossip; it would have been an ill-enough return
for all their love and too indulgent kindness if she
had shown them as much confidence as would have
prepared them for their loss.
But she dreaded the look of grief in her aunt's
eye, and the keen questioning of an offended uncle,
and most the agonv she could not brook to witness,
which she had prepared for a loving heart. She
could bear to inflict it, but not to view the ruin of
happiness which she had wrought. Yes 1 she was
148 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
worse than a woman-coward: she showed the
weakness of guilt. And yet in her justification it
might be said that her mind was not fully made up
until the afternoon of the wedding-day. Until then
it wavered, persuading itself this moment of the
truth of its new doctrines, and the next, shrinking
from the distress her acting upon it must cause.
Bitterly she blamed herself for her changeful con-
duct toward Harry Fletcher that she had not had
the resolution to reject his addresses at once and for-
ever. That she had been moved by kind impulses
mattered nothing in the end, now that she must
finally retract all : they only made her final resolve
more blamable.
As the sun began to tinge the east with crimson
and gold, Harry left the room where he had sat
the night out, and without a word to any one,
went home. His mother followed him; she had
waited for him all night. He came to breakfast
when it was ready, that none should say he was
either love-sick or heart-broken. A sad and dreary
change had come over his sunny and beaming
face; a sternness and pride that defied pity; it
almost killed his mother to see it there upon that
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 149
honest, handsome brow, and if she had not been
restrained by the precepts of Christ's religion, she
would almost have cursed the fickle beauty who
had worked the transformation.
i
"Father," said he, before the breakfast was fin-
ished, "I want five hundred dollars, if you can
spare it ; I am going to California. Nay, mother,
it is useless to talk. This is no place for me. I
will come back and see you, some time, but I am
going from here, now."
And in less than a week he had gone. The
room which was built and furnished for the ex-
pected bride was locked up, and no one entered
there.
CHAPTER IX.
"What thronging, dashing, raging, rustling;
What whispering, babbling, hissing, bustling;
What glimmering, spurting, stinking, burning,
As heaven and earth were overturning.
There is a true witch element about us I
Take hold on me or we shall be divided
Where are you?"
GOETHB'S " FAUST."
A BAND of Mormon women were sitting in coun-
cil upon the character of Margaret Wilde.
"She's quite too high and mighty for us poor
sinners she holds herself quite above its" said one
little woman, scornfully.
" Her pride ought to be brought low," senten-
tiously remarked a large, haughty-looking, harsh-
featured female across the room.
"/don't think she is proud. I think her very
gentle and amiable, and so beautiful," murmured a
low voice, coming from the lips of a pale, sad,
timid creature near by.
The last quality, of being beautiful, it was unwise
in her generous champion to mention.
FACTS STKANGER THAN FICTION. 151
"Ay! beautiful!" cried the little woman, more
scornfully than ever; "and that's what she sets
herself up upon thinks herself so fine that her
husband must not look at another woman. "
" It 's a burning shame/' sighed a young lady
with black eyes.
" When I told her that I was going to be sealed
to Elder Pritchard, she asked me how many wives
he had, and when I told her eleven, she said it
was wicked for me to throw myself away in that
manner. As if I was not the best judge of that 1"
continued another. "I told her then she had
better not come into a society of her own free
will and then take it upon herself to dictate to
them."
"J don't believe she is a Mormon," said the
large woman.
"Of course she isn't," said Elder Pritchard's
twelfth wife ; " she told me as much. She said she
only came out of love to her husband."
"And now she wants to keep him all to herself,
and flout him in our faces, as if we were not as
good as she I" exclaimed the little woman, jerking
back her head.
152 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
"Why shouldn't she?" faintly inquired the
melancholy one.
" And he is so handsome ! She ought to have a
lesson read to her," continued black eyes.
'I move that a committee wait upon her and
suggest the propriety of her selecting a woman to
be sealed to him," said the large woman. "The
wives sometimes make the choice, when they arc
amiable enough."
" Good !" cried the little woman ; " I 'm dying to
hear what she will say. How it will cut her up I
Let us go this very afternoon. Who will be
spokesman?"
" I will !" said the great woman.
"0, don't!" pleaded the sad one; but nobody
heard her.
About half an hour after this, as Maggie sat
with her five-month's-old baby on her lap, in a
perfect glee of merry laughter to hear him crow
and laugh, and see him show some new signs of
infantile intelligence, there came a knock at the
door. "With cheeks flushed and smiling, curls in
disarray, and looking like a very lovely and very
happy mother, she opened the door to usher in a
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 153
formidable array of six of her most disagreeable
acquaintances. However, she gave them seats, and
commenced making some pleasant remarks, when
she was interrupted by the speaker of the com-
mittee.
" We have waited upon you, Mrs. Wilde," she
began, "to suggest the propriety of you, as the
wife of an influential man among us, to set a good
example, by choosing from among your acquaint-
ance some young woman that you may fancy, to
seal to your husband. It will be a means of
quieting remark, and will prove you to be really
interested in our religion. We think you will find
our advice good," and she glanced at the black
eyes which were cast down in some confusion.
For a moment the hot blood glowed richly in
the cheek of Margaret; her eyes flashed proudly
upon the presumptuous group, but she immediately
detected, from the expression of their malicious
faces, that their object was to provoke her ; and so,
of course, she would not be provoked.
"Well, ladies," she replied, very mildly and
affably; "if Mr. Wilde wishes another wife, I
would a little rather he should make the choice
154 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
himself. I have been out so little that I should
not be as well prepared to choose as he must be.
I shall be quite willing to submit to his wishes-
and to his taste;" and she, too, smiled upon the
black eyes which were regarding her curiously.
There did not seem any thing more to be said,
as her statement was very reasonable. They knew
very well that the reason she was willing was
because she was certain that her husband could
not be persuaded to make a choice. They had not
succeeded in either distressing her, or mortifying
her, or making her look miserable, at which they
felt very badly indeed, and could console them-
selves but very slightly by making several ill-
natured remarks about what would be expected
of members who did their duty, etc., etc. Mrs.
Wilde kept her temper undisturbed, and dismissed
them with concealed triumph, conscious that not a
barb they had sent had hit her at all. It was slyly
observed by the rest, who were in the mood for
being observing, that the young lady with the
black eyes was particularly sharp and satirical after
they had come away.
Margaret had come off from this attack with so
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 155
much self-possession, and so completely the winner
of the day, that she could afford to laugh gleefully
when she told Eichard about the committee, while
they were enjoying their quiet tea.
" Human nature human nature," he said, laugh-
ing with her ; " poor human nature ; it is the same
the world over, only differently developed. Jeal-
ous, inquisitive, discontented women, ready to tear
you to pieces because you are good and beautiful."
" How can they be otherwise than jealous and in-
quisitive, situated as they are, poor creatures ? I
do not think I ought even to be resentful."
"Whatever has helped to make them so, I am
afraid they will give us some inconvenience in the
course of time. Just as I was about to step into
some lucrative office, I should hate to have
one of these elders' wives making a fuss about
me."
" Why will you stay where there is such an
abominable state of society, dear Kichard?" Mar-
garet asked, suddenly growing very earnest. " Oh,
you do not know how unhappy it makes me at
times, to be mixed up with it. I would rather lose
all that we have made, and go back to our old
156 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
home without a penny, than to think of spending
my life here."
" Pooh ! pooh ! my darling ! are we not society
enough for ourselves, and with the baby there?
"Why can you not give yourself no thought about
it ? and in a few years we will be living in such a
way that the crowd can not get very close to you.
We will have a palace in the suburbs, and such a
lawn and such a grove about it, that the world will
be shut out. You shall have fountains, and birds,
and exquisite flowers about you, and your beautiful
boy and your adoring husband for company.
" ' In Zanadu did Khubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree. 1
" In Utah did the saintly Richard
A stately pleasure-dome decree,
Wherein his fair wife placed he."
But the tears were in Margaret's eyes while he
spake.
" I am sorry that you can not overlook the one
fault of this people, Margaret," added Eichard, more
earnestly. " They are truly a wonderful people ;
they have made 'the wilderness blossom as the
rose ;' they have conquered all obstacles ; and their
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 157
religion, is so fascinating, so inspiriting. We have
'signs and wonders,' Margaret the Spirit of the
Lord poured out upon us as free as water. "We are
indeed His favored children : this city shall be
greater than Jerusalem ever was. Our streets shall
some time be paved with gold, and our walls shall
glitter with precious stones. A palace shall arise
for you and I, as by the spell of Aladdin's lamp.
Our tabernacle shall be a miracle of glory. It may
not all take place in our life-time, rapid as is the
gathering in of the Latter-Day Saints. But wo
shall arise from the grave to welcome it, and live a
thousand years of love and joy in the City of the
Lord. Oh ! what a thing our love is, Margaret,
when we remember that we are to enjoy it together
a thousand years ! Let not trifles distract you from
that glorious anticipation. Here we are safe ; our
salvation is secured ; and would you have me an
unsettled wanderer about the world ? Are you not
glad that we are safe in the fold?"
Margaret sobbed aloud with conflicting emotions :
pain that her husband could be deluded by the rant
and false show of a religion which grew more dis-
tasteful to her all the time ; and hope, that even this
158 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
wretched belief was better, if it was sincere, than
blank doubt and infidelity.
" Now, Maggie, are n't you growing a little nerv-
ous ? I am afraid the care of that great boy is too
much for you. To-night, at all events, you must
leave him to Susan, and the dishes to her, also, and
go to the temple with me. It 's a long time since
you were out, and the sisters are jealous of you.
Besides, I am to be appointed an elder this evening.
I shall be Elder "Wilde after this, dear ; how will it
sound ? and you must not be absent. It is but the
first stepping-stone, and I value it as such. Some
time I shall be where Brigham Young is now," he
added, rising from the table, and pacing back and
forth across the floor in an excited manner; "and
it may be that some time this people will see fit to
have a temporal ruler a king ! throned in all the
magnificence of Solomon. That is what / shall try
for."
" Oh, Richard !" exclaimed his wife, in fear and
reproach.
"Not unless the Lord wills it," he continued,
hurriedly, fearful lest he had betrayed too much to
the quick eye of affection. " But if a thing is ap-
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 159
pointed, why not I be anxious to serve the
Lord?"
Ah, Eeligion ! what ambition, what pride, what
covetousness, what cruelty, what hate, what wicked-
ness, hath not sheltered itself under thy cloak !
Mrs. Wilde arose with a sigh to prepare to go
with her husband. He caught her hand as she
passed out of the room, and looked admiringly into
her face.
" I know that I have the tact and the ability to
rule such a community for their own good," said
he; "and as for you, Margaret, Esther could not
have been a more beautiful queen than you will
make."
" Oh, my husband, put such thoughts far away
from you," she replied ; " the love of power is not
the love of God."
" But if God should choose me out as an instru-
ment in His hands to work His glory ?"
Margaret turned away with a trembling lip ; and
after giving directions to Susan, the small girl she
had to help her, to be sure and stay by the baby,
she put on her bonnet, and accompanied her hus-
band to the temple. She felt a weight upon hei
160 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
spirits as she walked along, which was somewhat
dissipated, as they entered the great building, by its
gorgeous appearance, illuminated with lights. Mar-
garet took a seat amid a good many others, while
Richard went forward to be initiated into his duties
as elder. After that was over, some one of the pres-
idents preached a sermon upon the future prospects
of the Mormons, also reproving some of the bishops
and elders for selfishness and non-payment of tithes,
and finally got upon the subject of miracles. Said
he:
"We were speaking about an open vision which
we saw some time ago it was seen in the dark, but
we saw it with our natural eyes. President Young,
myself, brother Phineas Young, and many others,
saw it. We saw an army start from the east and go
to the south, and there were twelve men in a column,
and one column came right after the other, so that
when the first stepped, the next stepped in their
tracks, and so on ; and they had swords, guns, knap-
sacks, caps and feathers, and we could see them
march, with a uniform step, from one heavens to the
other. This we saw with our natural eyes, and look-
ed upon it for hours it was the very night that
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 161
the angel delivered the plates to Joseph Smith. This
army moved to the south-west, and they marched
as if a battle were to take place ; and we could hear
the clashing of their swords and guns, and the
measured tread of their march, just as plain as I
ever heard the movements of troops upon the
earth. John P. Green came to wake me up to
look upon it."
From this he drew an augury of war, in which
the Mormons were to be triumphant ; then he had a
few warning words to say to those who were not
believers, asking them to hold up their hands and
declare themselves ; then, no hands being raised, he
promised the faithful a miracle upon the heads of
the most exalted saints should glow a crown of
light, in token of their future high estate, when
they should be crowned everlastingly. Hereupon
there was a high state of excitement and expecta-
tion amid the congregation. The first step toward
the accomplishment of the miracle was the putting
out of all the lights in the temple ; a solemn si-
lence reigned for a few moments, and, one by one,
circles of lambent light began to play around the
heads of the throng. Suppressed whispers of praise
11
162 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
and glorification, with murmurs of prayer, resound-
ed through the vast tabernacle. Soon the lamps
were re-lit, and the awed and astonished people be-
gan to breathe more freely.
Elder Pratt had then a few words to say on polyg-
amy :
" I hereby pledge my honor that I will publicly
renounce polygamy, and that the Church I repre-
sent will do the same, on the following conditions,
namely : The Old and New Testaments, the Consti-
tution of the United States, and the laws of Utah
Territory, 'shall be the standard ; and if, in all this
wide range, one item of law can be found wherein
God, angels, men, apostles, prophets, or the Son of
God, or the Holy Spirit, have made the plurality of
wives a crime, or transgression of law, or an immo-
rality, then, on these conditions, we shall renounce
polygamy. But, till this is done, we shall hold the
law of God OD the subject of matrimony, including
a plurality of wives, as a most sacred institution,
binding on our consciences, in the free exercise of
which we claim the protection so freely guarantied
by the constitution of our common country."
After some music the congregation were dismiss-
OF FACTS STKANGER THAN FICTION. 163
ed. Eichard joined his wife in fine spirits ; but all
that she 'had heard and seen had only excited her
suspicion and disgust, and she walked by his side
in thoughtful silence.
" Come, dear, why don't you talk ? "What is the
matter ? Are you not glad that I am an elder ?"
" I should be if I believed in this religion, Eich-
ard ; but it looks like a farce and a mockery to me.
I am certain that they used phosphorus or some
chemical preparation to get up that miracle to-night.
Tell me what is your true opinion?"
" What a question I" was the evasive reply.
" It was a shameful imposture upon credulous ig-
norance," continued Margaret, more warmly.
" You must not breathe such a sentiment as that
aloud," said Eichard, somewhat alarmed. " Come,
wife, I am afraid you are getting a little unreason-
able. You must remember what will be expected
of one in my place."
She did not wish to displease him, and she said
no more ; but a foreboding came across her, that
perhaps, some time, his ambition would be his mis-
tress that he would love power more than his
wife.
164 FACTS STKANGEK THAN FICTION.
Oh, how fondly she took her baby to her bosom
when she got into the house, yearning over it with
an undefined sadness. But when Richard came,
and encircled her and the infant in one tender em-
brace, kissing first one, and then the other, and call-
ing them " pet names," she forgot her presentiments.
CHAPTER X.
"Daughter of Egypt 1 veil thine eyea,
I can not bear their fire,
Nor will I touch with sacrifice
Those altars of desire."
BAYARD TAYLOB.
IT was a warm day in the latter part of June
warm, and yet delightful, for a cool breeze swept
the plains, and passed like a blessing over the city.
The wild-rose, which Margaret had trained by her
door and window, tossed its blossoms about, and
their faint fragrance filled the apartment with de-
light. She sat near the casement reading the
papers which had arrived by the mail which came
in that morning ; a letter she had already perused a
dozen times a letter from Harry, written in the
name of his father and mother, as" well as himself
and speaking in glowing terms of his anticipated
happiness. It was nearly a year old, having lain at
Council Bluff through the winter.
" I suppose Harry and Sarah are married long
166 MOEMON WIVES; A NAERATIVE
ago. How I wish. I could peep in upon them one
day -just one day and show them our baby, Rich-
ard," she had said at the dinner-table, while they
were discussing the letter and all the old familiar
topics which it brought up.
Now, while she had a leisure hour or two, she
was enjoying the paper and a magazine a rare
treat, indeed, to her. Her child was sleeping sweet-
ly in the neat bedroom, whose door stood open that
the mother might have an eye upon the slumbers
of her darling.
Susan came in and laid the cloth for tea, and soon
Richard appeared. As the biscuits were not quite
done, the wife read aloud to him until they were
ready.
" There was a large band of new Saints arrived
to-day with the mail-train," remarked Richard, as
they sat up to the table.
" Were any of them from our part of the coun-
try?" was the first eager inquiry.
u I think not. They came from "Western "New
York, I believe, the most of them, with a few En-
glish.
" Oh, dear ! I had almost hoped to see some one
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 167
who had seen or heard of our friends," sighed Mar-
garet.
A moment after a shadow darkened the sunlight
which lay across the threshold; and the shadow
reached forward and rested upon Margaret's bosom,
where a little gleam of golden light had been danc-
ing. The young couple looked up they looked
twice before they spoke and then sprung to
their feet.
'lit is!" exclaimed Eichard.
"Yes, it is Sarah Irving I" cried his wifeand for
a moment they could say no more.
There she stood, looking at them with a half
smile, though her own heart beat to suffocation.
Her cheeks were suffused with blushes, and she,
too, was as speechless as they. Eichard was the
first to reach her ; he took her in his arms and gave
her a kiss ; it was so long since he had seen an old
friend, that he embraced her as he would have done
his mother.
"You are very tired," he said, as he observed
how heavily she lifted herself from his breast.
" Yes," she whispered ; and then she and her old
school-friend, Margaret, met in a long embrace.
168
" But where is Harry ?" asked the latter, sudden-
ly raising her head from Sarah's shoulder.
" He is not here ; I came alone."
Surprise and curiosity began to take the place of
joy and astonishment ; but they would ask no ques-
tions until they had taken off the bonnet and cape of
their guest, seated her at the table and placed a cup
of barley coffee before her, for she seemed tired and
agitated.
She drank the coffee and seemed to feel more
composed. Her friends gazed at her as if they
could not realize that they were indeed beholding
the face of their beloved Sarah
" I was a sunburnt and deplorable-looking crea-
ture when I arrived here, darling ; but I do believe
that nothing can ever injure or intimidate you ; you
look better than ever," said Margaret, gazing with
her old fondness into the countenance of her visitor.
The sun and winds had given her clear complex-
ion a richer glow ; they had given her cheeks the
same bright flush which they give the crimson rose ;
her eyes had a lustrous depth, dark and unfathoma-
ble ; her hair was as wild as the wild vine, and as
beautiful; and her gipseyish dress added a charm
OF FACTS STKANGER THAN FICTION. 169
to her appearance quite in keeping with her
style.
" 0, I enjoyed the whole journey very much,
hardships and all," she added gayly. " Every thing
except seeing three men killed, and two women car-
ried off by a band of Sioux, who came upon us
suddenly. Oh, but I wanted a gun in my hands
then ! I had this knife in my bosom," she added,
drawing out a small bowie-knife from her dress,
" fearing I might have occasion to defend myself,
but, thank heaven, I was not obliged to use it."
" Do tell me, Sarah, what brought you here with-
out Henry ; I can not wait another instant to know
about my brother."
She cast down her eyes as she answered*
" I became a Mormom, and he did not."
" And oh, did you have the heart to come away
and leave him ? He loved you so, Sarah, so deeply,
I know. I thought you were married long ago."
"We were to have been married, but I should
have been wicked have rendered him as well as
myself miserable if I had kept my too-illy consid-
ered promise. I could not love him as a wife ought
to, and you know, you only, dear Maggie, that I
170 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
tried to return Ms affection, but, why did lie love
me?" she cried in a trembling voice, "I was never
worthy of so good a man."
"Ay, why did he?" echoed Mrs. Wilde, very
bitterly for her.
" But we must go where our hearts call us," con-
tinued the other, fixing her dark eyes, burning
through their tears, upon Eichard, as she spoke in a
low, impassioned tone, "and mine has called me
here with a wild, earnest call which I can not choose
but obey."
" And you, too," murmured Margaret, " the victim
of this strange, this foolish fanaticism 1"
"I was born for an enthusiast I only love what
is strange, and new, and incomprehensible ; or what
is too high, or too far away for us to achieve," and
again her eyes sought Eichard's.
He remembered the last look thtse eyes had given
him, as they parted long ago, and she turned to
faint upon Margaret's bosom that thrilling, agon-
ized look and somehow he could not but connect
it with the glances she gave him now, and the blood
rushed into his cheek at a thought which came un-
bidden.
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 171
" Oh, Sarah, Sarah !" said Margaret mournfully, " I
have so much to forgive in you, it is a wonder that
I can love you at all. My poor brother !"
" I am unworthy of your affection, Maggie ; I
had no right to come here to your house ; I have no
claim upon your kindness. I only came to give you
news of home, and then I sha^l trouble you no
more."
She reached for her bonnet as she said this ;
grieved and wounded though she was, distressed at
the thought of Henry, his sister could not find it in
her heart to utterly cast out her friendship for Sara ;
she knew her impulsiveness, her want of proper
training; she blamed, but she loved at the same
time ; so she carried the bonnet into the bedroom,
and coming back, kissed the perverse girl, and asked
to be told all about home.
Sarah gave an account of things as they were be-
fore she left not, as they mast have been, after that
event. She told them their parents were in good
health and spirits, and that, although she could not
doubt that Harry felt very badly, yet he had not
seemed to be very much disappointed, and she had
no doubt he would some time forget her, and find a
172 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
companion better suited to render him happy. She
did not confess the cruel manner in which she had
deserted him ; she dared not do it ; and she hoped
before the news reached them, to have gained a foot-
hold into the Eden she desired, from which she
could not be driven.
While they were all busy asking and answering
eager questions, the baby awoke and began to cry.
" What's that?" asked Sarah, growing pale.
" You are not frightened at the sound of a child
crying?" asked Margaret, laughing; "why! just
think of it ; I have been so absorbed in hearing
from home that I forgot, absolutely forgot for al-
most an hour, to tell you that we have a baby 1"
"A great fine boy, six months old," said Mr.
Wilde proudly, while his wife ran to take little
Harry from his crib.
"What do you think of this?" asked the young
mother, coming back with her treasure, who had
ceased his impatient petition to be taken up, and
was looking his very prettiest, with his cheeks all
rosy from sleeping so hard, and his hair all in tiny
ringlets over his head. "Ay, Sarah? is not this
doing pretty well for the first? ought I not to thank
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 173
my sweet wife for such, a beauty ?" and the wretch-
ed girl thought she had never seen him look so
good and so very handsome, as when he took the
little fellow in his arms, with kindling eye and joy-
ous, fatherly pride.
" It seems very strange to see you a mother, Mag-
gie," she said faintly, smiling strangely upon the
child.
"Doesn't it ?" laughed Margaret, as she claimed
the boy to give him his supper.
His playful ways and his parents' delight were
viewed with a melancholy eye. Sarah could not
bear the great happiness of her friends. She had
wild thoughts ; and then her better angel awoke out
of its deep sleep and arose and struggled fiercely
against the dark spirit which had taken possession
of -her. One by one, the spirit brought forward its
weapons of defense, false doctrines, forged in the
flames of passion, and polished with fine cold soph-
istries : but they were base metal, and fell shivered
at its feet, before the subtle touch of truth. She
turned her face from the smiling group and went to
the wild-rose vines at the door and began weaving
a wreath.
11
174
" Don't make yourself any prettier than you are
already," said Richard, as he saw what she was
doing.
" Kay I this crown is for Margaret," she said,
" the emblem of love, beauty, and simplicity. I am
not fit to wear it."
"You speak of yourself very depreciatingly,
dear Sarah," said Margaret. " I do not think you
the greatest sinner in the world though I do wish
you could have loved my brother. But what's the
use of wishing ? You are a will-o'-the-wisp, a me-
teor, an aurora-borealis, any thing that is wild,
beautiful, uncatchable, unreliable, fascinating. We
shall have to let you glitter and sparkle, come and
go, delude and bewitch us, without complaint
taking you for what you choose to hold yourself
worth."
" Well, here's your wreath, to pay for that. You
ought to know that I can not bear flattery."
" It plays about you like he^t-lightning, neither
blinding, warming, nor scorching you. Really you
have made my wife look very pretty, Sarah."
" I think so myself, Sir Richard."
" Which shows that you are not envious."
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 175
Sarah looked as if she thought she need be envious
of but few women ; and so Kichard Wilde thought,
and wondered if she could have been as beautiful
when he chose between her and his more gentle
Margaret.
The conversation again reverted to home matters,
and when, late in the evening, they retired to rest,
Sarah Irving was glad to press her weary head to
its pillow. It was the first time she had slept be-
neath a roof for many weeks, and yet her slumbers
were not as sweet as they had often been in the open
air with only a wagon-cover over her.
She had placed herself under the protection of
the most respectable family she could find coming
out; and the next day after her arrival at the
Wilde's, she called upon them at their stopping-place
to thank them for their past kindness.
She was welcomed into the bosom of the Mormon
creed; and soon became an object of much atten-
tion to its followers. Her youth and beauty, as well
as the rumor that she had brought several thousand
dollars in gold along with her, were enough to ren
der her a favorite, especially with the men. Many
a gray-haired elder fixed covetous eyes upon her ;
176 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
eyes bleared and foul, from which she shrank as
from a serpent.
It was not long before Brignam Young himself
had marked the glittering prize as his own ; but she
held herself in reserve, and gave no one any en-
couragement, although she professed herself con-
verted to polygamy.
There was not much said about this part of her
belief before Margaret, whose horror of the doctrine
was such, that she could hardly tolerate the com-
panionship of its devotees ; and who felt great un-
easiness about the future fate of her beautiful friend
so deluded in her faith, although yet pure in action.
With consummate tact she won upon the interest
of Eichard. He was her friend and counselor in
all things. She had a great many things to do, and
she wished him to aid her in all. First, she set
about having her a house built ; it was to be the
finest dwelling-house in the city, and she wanted it
finished before winter. There were plenty of labor-
ers to be had to do the work quickly and well. She
ordered the best furniture which could be manufac-
tured there ; and as there were no carpets to be had,
she set some foreigners who understood it, to weav-
OP FACTS STEANGEB THAN FICTION. 177
ing matting out of a long, reedy grass which she
found. People smiled, and praised her energetic
ways of bringing what she wished to pass. A part
of her money she lent to Eichard for some purpose
which he desired ; another part she had him invest
for her, and the rest she kept to pay for her house,
and do with as she happened to fancy.
She bought her a pony like Margaret's, and spent
half her time roaming over the country after wild-
flowers and berries. No Indian maiden of the for-
est rode her steed with a wilder grace, or decked
herself out more gorgeously with flowers and scar-
let leaves ; she would ride like the winds across the
plains, or sit quietly on her horse and send forth her
sweet, clear voice in trills of melody, such as were
never heard in that remote wild before.
Week after week flitted by ; the house, which was
a good distance from her friends', was progressing
rapidly ; and one evening after tea, she wanted
Eichard to walk over with her, to see if any im-
provements could be planned. It stood away be-
yond the suburbs, not too far to be included within
the walls of Zion, when they should be determined,
and in a most lovely spot.
12
178 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
A rise of ground, with a group of trees already
grown upon it, commanding a view of the city,
dark mountains rising beyond in one direction,
and in another the waters of the lake gleaming in
the distance, was the spot selected by Sarah. About
ten acres of the surrounding fair and breezy
grounds constituted her domains; when the city
spread she did not wish to be shut away from the
trees and the green grass entirely, and so she had
purchased these ten acres in which to belt her house.
They climbed up the ladder into the unfinished
chambers, and sat a few moments in the window
commanding the loveliest prospect.
"I mean to go to-morrow, Sarah, and purchase
the land contiguous to yours, that I may hold it in
readiness to build a better house on than I have
now. You showed your fine taste in this selection.
It is the sweetest place about the city ; the 'view is
enchanting ; it is like Paradise lovely beyond ex-
pression."
"Ay, Eichard; see the sunlight streaming over
the plains, turning the lake into an ocean of bur-
nished gold, and bathing the mountains in rosy,
evanescent hues. Oh ! this is the place to be wildly,
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 179
madly happy in. Here, free from the cold bonds,
the chilling orthodoxies of the world, with a love-
breathing, kindly, fascinating religion, and lavished
by the indulgent hand of nature all about us, why
can not our souls revel in life as it was designed to
be ? why can not we be free as the winds, bright as
the flowers, happy as the birds ?"
Bichard looked upon his eloquent companion.
Her eyes burned with a soft fire, and their melting
glory was poured steadily into his. She leaned to-
ward him with a smiling countenance, her cheek was
red and her lip tremulous.
" We can be we will be," he answered her; "I
will have a house here close by yours. You will
marry some man that you love, and then you will
realize how happy my Margaret and I are and our
boy."
The smile fled from her lip and she looked out at
the distant mountains with a melancholy gaze.
* Why do you look so sad ? and a moment ago
you were planning such delights."
There was nothing more than kindness in his tone
possibly a shade of tenderness of which he was
not conscious.
180 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
"Oh, Kichard Wilde," she half sobbed, turning
to him again, " I fear I shall never be married. The
golden chance for me is lost ; the only man I ever
did, or could, or shall love was lost to me long ago.
"We might be happy yet, if there was more freedom
in the world. But he he would be afraid, he
would startle at the thought of drinking the cup of
heavenly nectar pressed to his lips. Would there
were less bigotry, less cold and senseless cant in the
world. Oh ! when will people be free to follow the
divine inspiration of their own hearts ? when will
they cease to needlessly torture themselves ? when
will they learn that attractions can not err that
they may trust their own truest impulses? Even
here even here, in this fair world which is
apart from the world, must this chain be worn ?
Kichard!"
She spoke his name in a soft, full, musical voice,
most passionately sad, and laid her trembling hand
lightly upon his. He looked at her in troubled
surprise. He was not t proof against the" glowing
words, the winning modulations of voice, the plead-
ing eyes, the gentle touch: a consciousness of all her
meaning rushed over him, what he had often laugh-
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 181
ed at himself for suspecting, became reality ; the
blood rushed into his face, and to turn aside his em-
barassment, he asked
" What made you a Mormon, Sarah ?"
" Love !" she answered ; " that is, love of novelty,
of the wilds of the west, of my friends here ; but
most, love of something more fresh, less trammeled ;
I wanted to be free," and all of a sudden her man-
ner changed, and she laughed gayly. " Pray do not
pay any attention to what I say when the inspired
mood is upon me. You could not understand if
you would you have not advanced far enough for
that."
She tossed back her head with a motion of merry
scorn. Eichard thought he had never seen any
thing so exquisite as her chin and throat, all dimples
and lovely lines, and flushed with the rosy sunset
light. Her hair waved back from her polished
brow, across her delicate ears, and was caught by a
ribbon and little golden comb, from thence falling
upon her shoulders, in masses of glossy curls.
" You are a Sphynx," he said in return ; " I do
not pretend to read your riddles," for dangerously
bewitching as she was, he thought of Margaret and
182 MOKMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
his boy, and wanted to break the spell which was
stealing over him.
" Had we not better return, Sarah ? Margaret
will wonder what has become of us."
" Margaret ! Margaret!" she said, impatiently, %c is
your wife so miserly with her happiness that she
can not spare you for half an hour to an old friend ?"
" My wife is not lacking in generosity toward her
friends," was the rather cool reply.
" Oh, no ! I meant nothing against her, I love her.
She is gentle, and good, and affectionate. But I
doubt if she could make sacrifices for those she
loves, as some can do as some have done. She is
the very model of a kind and amiable wife. If I
had been like her, I might have been the contented
partner of Harry Fletcher, instead of the unhappy
creature that I am, wandering over freezing mount-
ains, and burning plains, following afar off the sun
that I worship, whose brightness is not for me,
whose fires will never warm my chilled and desolate
heart. I have thrown my life away, without the
hope of reward," and again she passed into a gloomy
reverie.
Eichard sat gazing upon her with mingled emo-
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 183
tions. His man's vanity was not slow to point out
to him the meaning of her words. Many a look
and act in the long ago before his marriage and
after came back to his memory, and he was pained
and embarrassed at the truth which stared him in
the face so plainly.
Yet he was flattered too. He began to try and
image to himself the depth and worth of a passion
which gave such proofs of its consuming power. The
very pride with which the beautiful girl before him
kept others aloof and afraid of her, added to the ef-
fect upon him of her deportment toward him alone.
The request of several of his friends that he
should take another wife ; and a kind of confused
impression that perhaps it was permitted to the
Saints- to do so, recurred to him ; and passion, which
blinds reason, began to act upon his judgment.
Clear and fair before his mental vision arose the im-
age of Margaret, rocking the cradle of his child,
and the mere thought of the agony which such a
step would cause her, dispelled the mist, and left him
free to see the wrong.
So he shook the temptation lightly off.
" Come, Sarah, we really must go."
184 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
" To be sure we must ; pardon me for detaining
you : I was busy with my dreams."
She arose as stately as Juno ; her eye was cold
and bright; the feeling which had illuminated it
had died out ; and she went down the ladder with-
out his assistance, and walked home by his side with
a queenly step, replying briefly to his few remarks.
" Sarah has on her imperial robe and crown to-
night," remarked Mrs. "Wilde, shortly !ifter the two
returned.
" I rule but an empty realm," was the slow reply.
" But I will have subjects enough at my feet soon.
The Governor was to see me again this morning."
" I do not like to hear you even jest about him,"
replied Margaret " It is so shocking that he should
set the example which he does."
"I think he does just right, provided he really
loves the women he chooses. If I had not been a
convert to all the doctrines of Mormonism I should
not have come here, to be made miserable by jeop-
ardizing my happiness."
" I am not miserable, for I have entire, implicit
confidence in my husband. But I am often pained,
and oh, so much, to hear you advancing such senti-
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 185
ments ; to feel that you are in danger of making
shipwreck of your peace. How could you, with all
your pride, consent to occupy an inferior, secondary
situation, and have the heart of your husband di-
vided up among a dozen others ? It would kill you.
Oh, Sarah, I do implore you, by all that is most sa-
cred, most pure, most dear, most beautiful in woman,
to turn your voice and influence against this social
degradation, and manifest the detestation which I
am sure, in your secret soul, you must feel for it."
Sarah made her no reply, except to bid her good-
night, and retire to her own room. She undressed,
and threw herself upon the couch, but the night was
oppressive, and her thoughts were more oppressive
than the night.
" My resolution almost fails me," she whispered to
herself. "Margaret has been my truest friend al-
ways, and I can not be so cruel as to break her
heart. Why could she not have become a believer ?
then all would have gone well. I hoped to have
found her converted to this belief, and willing to re-
ceive me as I wished. I have dared and suffered
all, and now I must give up ; I left two distressed
and suffering households and a blighted faith behind
186 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
me. I made up my mind to that much but I had
not counted upon breaking Margaret's heart."
She lay a long time with her fingers pressed over
her eyes; a terrible struggle, worse than any that
had ever taken place in her restless bosom, was
going on between passion and conscience ; she
could not bring ruin upon this roof which shel-
tered her, she could not betray the hospitality
which had welcomed her, the trusting affection of
her girlhood's friend; neither could she overcome
the love which had grown from fatal nursing of it,
to a mighty passion which now mocked her strength.
Once, she might have held it in subjection, but she
had dallied with it, put it away- only to welcome it
more warmly, cherished it secretly upon sweet
thoughts and honeyed hopes and now it mastered
her.
It is madness to expect happiness from any but
legitimate sources. Sarah Irving was suffering con-
stantly from the punishment * which followed upon
every concession she made to the false philosophy
she had deluded herself into accepting; yet, she
would not see that her doubt and unhappiness arose
from her misdoing. The dupe of her own desires,
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 187
she allowed herself to be convinced that religion de-
manded that she should not regard what would be
but the temporary grief of her friend Margaret.
She could not go to heaven except as the wife of some
man -she could not be the wife of any man whom,
she did not love she could not love any man but
Eichard Wilde.
Her entrance through the gates of Paradise de-
pended upon him, and cling to him she must.
Heaven pity and comfort Margaret ; she would
some time see that it was right ; she could not sac-
rifice herself to save her friend some pangs.
And so, after' hours of tossing and unrest, she
slept upon her resolution.
CHAPTER XL
Ah, what shall I be at fifty,
If nature keep me alive,
If I find the world so bitter
Whon I am but twenty-five ?
TENNYSOH.
THE letter written by Margaret's mother, giving
an account of the strange events at home, Sarah's
flight, and Harry's departure for California, never
reached its destination, and the daughter knew
nothing of the solitary, unhappy condition of her
parents, bereft of their eldest son.
Gentle as Margaret's nature was, if she had known
the whole truth about the state of affairs at home,
she could hardly have tolerated the girl who had
brought so much unhappiness upon the family ; for
she found it difficult to forgive her for breaking her
engagement with her brother when she represented
the matter in so much brighter light than it was.
A sad condition, indeed, had taken the place of
the old prosperity at the homestead. The old couple
FACTS STEANGER THAN FICTION. 189
were left pretty much alone. Two half-grown boys,
were all the children left to them. There was but
little pleasure to them in contemplating Margaret's
change of circumstances. They scarcely expected
ever to see her again in this world ; and they could
not forget that she was with a Mormon husband in a
Mormon city ; and they were beginning to take note
of the unenviable notoriety the Latter-day Saints
were acquiring. The letter telling them that Mar-
garet was the mother of a lovely boy, gave them a
great deal of pleasure, not unmixed with anxiety ;
and this was shortly followed by another, giving
still more glowing accounts of their health and hap-
piness. But communications were often delayed
or lost, and they would have weeks of suspense, al-
ways fearing the worst ; for their days had darkened
so, that they could not look upon things as cheer-
fully as of old.
Harry's bitter disappointment was almost greater
than they could bear; and his sudden departure left
a gloom upon the threshold which no sunshine could
dispel.
The deserted bridal-chamber was the " skeleton in
the house." which gave it all a haunted look.
12
190 MOKMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
There was no one to open tlie piano and chase
away sad influences by the soft spirit of sweet
sounds ; no Sarah to come sparkling into the room
like a bird ; no Margaret to sing from morning till
night, flitting about the house like a gleam of sun-
light ; no Harry, with his manly form, and pleasant
ycice, to break in upon the monotony of the
hours.
The two lads were good and obedient ; they made
noise enough at times, too, with their boyish amuse-
ments, to frighten melancholy out of the farm-house,
but they were at school the most of the day, and
when at home, their society was not as agreeable as
it might have been at almost any other stage of their
existence. Their mother was not a nervous woman,
yet she was annoyed by their tearing into the house,
fresh from some contest of skill, some game of hand-
ball, or the like, which made them running overfull
of laughter and excitement. She wanted silenco in.
which to ponder over her cares.
She felt the most uneasy about Harry. He was the
apple of her eye ; and that he should be away in,
California, exposed to dangers without number, and
perhaps plunging recklessly into the temptations
OP FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 19j
which must beset him, was cause enough to rob her
of rest.
" I do not know what we have done to bring
such punishments upon us," she would say to her
husband, as they sat by the fire of the long winter
evenings, scarcely enjoying the apples, nuts and
cider upon the little table beside them. " "We have
tried to bring up our children in the nurture and ad-
monition of the Lord; we have performed our
duty according to the light we have had ; and now,
when old age is coming upon us, some unpleasant
circumstance takes one after another away from us.
There 's Margaret, poor child, away by herself in
the midst of that horrid people. She '11 need a
double share of divine grace to sustain her footsteps
in the right path. And Harry I I was so proud of
him, husband too proud of him I 'm afraid now,
and it may be a judgment upon me, and yet he was
a child to make glad a mother's heart how do we
know what will become of him ? He may take to
gambling or something desperate ; for when a man'a
hope is gone, and his heart broken, there's not
much to keep him out of wrong-doing, unless he
can throw himself into the hands of the Lord.
192
Harry was a good man, bat lie hadn't Christian
faith enough to sustain him when he needed it the
most."
And they would talk over their troubles, while
the rosy-cheeked apples lay undisturbed upon the
plate, and the cider bubbled and simmered upon the
hearth, as if impatient to have its good qualities
tested.
" Let us read the thirty-seventh Psalm," the good
man would say solemnly, when nine o'clock struck,
and he would read it slowly -<
" Fret not thyself because of evil-doers."
Giving particular emphasis to such verses as
these :
" Rest in the Lord and wait patiently for Him."
" The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord ;
though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast down."
"I have been young, and now I am old, yet I have
not seen the righteous forsaken."
In a few months they had a letter from Harry
which, while it did not remove all their anxiety, was
a great comfort to them.
" Do not fear, mother," he wrote, " that I shall
become a bad man. I have too much self-respect to
F FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 193
degrade myself by evil associations or evil deeds.
I hold my&elf aloof from the whirl of iniquity
which sweeps away the most of the people here.
But excitement I must have intense excitement for
a while, or I should die. Here I have it fierce and
irresistible. There is gambling going on as desper-
ate as that in the hells which are nightly thronged
throughout the city gambling for fortune. Her
golden wheels whirl round with inconceivable ra-
pidity, and prizes that make men dizzy come up ;
and millions are won and lost each hour of the day.
Men become absorbed fascinated. Men who are
loving and devoted to their families, forget home,
wife, children for "the time, in this strange game;
they live an intense, concentrated life ; they watch
the whirl and take their gains and losses with the
same set faces. I am one among them ; it keeps me
from more maddening reflection.
" I am resolved to do nothing dishonorable, noth-
ing for which I shall have to blush when I am my-
self again. Time will bring its own remedy. You
shall see me again, providence sparing my life, your
boy Harry, as he used to be ; a little sterner-hearted,
less confiding, than of old not precisely a happy
13
194 FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION.
man perhaps, but not a misanthropist, and not a
miscreant. I suffer when I think of jour lonely
situation ; but you must spare me a little while yet.
Give my love to Margaret through your letters, for
I can not write to her while I feel as I do now."
CHAPTER XII.
The watch-dog hswled with sadden dread :
" Oh, would my lover were here," she said.
The witch upon the wind drew near,
She bent close down to the maiden's ear.
What she said, none ever knew
The bridesmaids thought the wind but blew.
SARAH'S house was completed ; and she became
its solitary inmate, except a young girl whom she
took in to do her housework. Margaret wondered
that she should keep up an establishment of her
own, when she might just as well have had a home
with her, but yielded as usual to her whim, thinking
it must be her intention to marry, although she
could not guess who.
There were plenty who sought the hand of Miss
Irving. Some men, who had already fulfilled the
Mormon vow, of taking as many wives as they
could support, had no objections to taking another
who could support herself.
Such glory as there was in being a belle in that
196 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
community, she enjoyed to its fall extent. It was
all a matter of contempt and indifference to her, ex-
cept that she could tell over her offers and refusals
to Eichard Wilde an occupation very suggestive to
him.
The autumn evenings lengthened themselves
wearily out, and the still longer ones of winter
came. Sarah had but few books to read, but little
work to do, no music at first, although a German, who
fell in love with her, made her a beautiful guitar as
a Christmas gift and time hung heavy upon her
hands.
She would not go to Mrs. Wilde's much ; she was
far from happy there ; and Margaret's rather delicate
health, and the care of her boy, prevented her re- ,
turning many of what visits she did make her.
With her usual disposition to give others pleas-
ure, the young wife did not complain when her
husband spent evening after evening at Sarah's
house. He was exceedingly fond of playing chess,
and she herself was but a poor player, while Sarah
could contend with him so successfully that it was
often late when he returned home.
" Poor Sarah is so lonely, and Eichard loves to
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 197
play so much," she would say to herself, as she sat
quite solitary in her little parlor, with only the soft
breathing of her boy in his crib, to break the silence.
Her own thoughts were too pure, her own love was
too steadfast, ever to suggest to her that there was
danger in this constant companionship of her hus-
band and her beautiful friend.
Their Harry was a year old, and winning more of
her heart every day. He could lisp a half dozen
household words, and was learning to balance his
dimpled feet on the floor, and to essay perilous voy-
ages from one chair to another.
Her cup was running over with the sweetest
blessings of life, and if her husband left her to spend
many evenings in solitude, she used them as times
of joyful reflection upon the past and future. She
was so happy in her HOME! Without its walls
there was but little to please, and much to annoy
her ; within its charmed precincts there were only
peace and love and innocent joy. It seemed to her
that no trouble could really perplex her, unless it
intruded itself within those walls, upon the hearth-
stone of home.
Sickness and death were the only things the
198 MOKMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
thoughts of which sent a shadow across her brow.
She was content to let the world of Mormonism
without her doors, rage and storm as it would its
turbulent waves staid themselves at her door-step.
Time flitted by, bringing with every day a change
in Eichard "Wilde. He was prospered among the .
people, and his ambitions grew prodigious, as he
saw new ways opening before him by which, if he
only discarded the strict laws which had governed
him in New England, he could follow on to per-
sonal glory. He was amid those who made their
own laws to suit their own purposes, who brought
strange doctrines out of the depths of their own
foul imaginations and called them revelations. His
natural tendencies had been restrained by education
and example, but now that these were torn away,
his actions would not always bear the clear light of
an accusing conscience; and presently, conscience
no longer intruded herself.
Much fault had been found with him, that he did
not fulfill his duty as a good citizen, by appropriating
more women to himself, and saving their souls alive
by making them his wives. But upon this one
point he had remained incorruptible. He had a
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 199
good angel at home who protected him. He could
not so suddenly abandon the holiest and sweetest in-
stitution of Christianity and civilization, and all that
there is pure and saving in the midst of the selfish-
ness of man : one abiding love, one hearth, one
home. His Margaret was all-in-all to him his wife
the other part of himself, upon whose union with
him depended the perfection of his being ; the wo-
man whom he had chosen, a modest and innocent
maiden, to share his fortunes and his heart, and to
be the mother of his children.
But at last, like many other men, not truthful and
pure in their inmost souls, not really and earnestly
in love with virtue, he was tempted by beauty where
ambition alone could not have prevailed. Thoughts
which had no right there began to occupy his bosom.
He often contrasted Margaret's somewhat pale and
thin cheek which ought to have been a thousand
times dearer to him that it had grown pale with ma-
ternal cares with the rich, bright cheek of Sarah
Irving; and to think that home, after all, was
sometimes tedious, if a man had to be tied down
to it.
It was not always of Margaret that he dreamed
200 MOBMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
when her fair head slumbered peacefully upon his
pillow. He brooded over the dangerous temptation
until he grew restless and dissatisfied. Upon every
side he was met with evil examples dressed in the
fascinating garb of religion ; and the object of his
passion, herself a convert to the faith, adoring him,
waiting for him to ask her love.
Under the influence of a maddening passion, and
his own wife, for the time, distasteful to him, he was
at last only withheld by the fear of making her
wretched. He loved her all the time better than
any thing in the world, but just as an intoxicated
man becomes a brute and strikes his wife to the
earth, to repent of it in his sober hours, he meditat-
ed a blow upon her heart. He shrank even while
he plotted it, and to escape reflection, rushed into
the presence of his bewildering charmer, instead of
shielding himself with his wife and chilfr.
One evening he went to Sarah Irving's ; it was
the third time that week. She evidently waited for
him. Her hair was arranged with peculiar taste
and she wore a new dress, the materials for which
she had brought with her from the east ; a black
velvet, the loose sleeves lined with crimson, and co-
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 201
rals upon Tier neck and arms. She met him with a
brilliant blush and smiles.
" You look magnificent enough for some eastern
court," he said, gazing upon her in undisguised ad-
miration, for he had a womanish love of fine array.
" Why do you trouble yourself to look beautiful
when there are so few to appreciate you ?"
"It Is only worth while to be beautiful for the
sake of one's friends. If I were a wife, I should
dress constantly for my husband ; When we were to
be alone together I would wear my choicest orna-
ments."
Kichard thought of the gentle woman he had left
at home, sitting sewing by her little table, in a plain
gown of chintz, with a linen collar at the neck. So
fair and serene, so neat and unpretending, with such
unsullied light in her soft eyes, she was a more love-
able image than this brilliant creature before him
now, in whose glance triumph struggled over dis-
content, but he could not see it so then, whilo
blinded by her smile.
" You ought to be a wife, with such views as
that," he said; "some man ought to be made su-
premely happy by your beauty."
202 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
%< I am in no haste," was the gay reply; "I shall
ponder long before I decide who the man shall
be for whom I am to trouble myself to be agreeable.
You know I have never been very much moved
by man's worship."
"I believe that you have treated your lovers
rather cavalierly."
" That man will have to vow something deeper
than the shallow protestations of the commoa
herd, that wins me to an acknowledgment of his
power," she continued, with one of her proud
looks.
Now Kichardknew well enough in his own thought
that with all that indomitable spirit of hers, she had
followed him through circumstances which proved
her passion much greater than her pride ; still, he
loved to see her thus haughtily beautiful, and it
pleased him to fancy that he would have to beg and
plead for her favor.
"But in this common-place age," said he, "how
can a knight show any remarkable devotion to his
lady-love?"
" There are ways of proving one's devotion."
Carried away by her manner, he slipped down the
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 203
precipice upon the brink of which he had so long
lingered.
" But I love you, Sarah. How shall I prove it ?'
" If you loved me you would marry me."
"I have a wife, Sarah."
" That does not prevent your taking another ac-
cording to either your belief or mine, or the belief
of the community in which we live."
" It does not ; but Margaret has not yet been con-
verted to the true belief. What shall I do oh,
what shall I do, Sarah? You are cruel to make me
love you thus ! ;J
He had sank upon his knees before her when he
first declared his passion ; and now he took up her
hand from her lap, and pressed it to his lips. His
face kindled and his manner was eager and earnest.
She withdrew her hand coldly, although she trem-
bled almost perceptibly at his touch.
" You are not fit to talk of love, Richard Wilde
not to me. You are afraid to mako a sacrifice.
You are afraid of the displeasure of your wife "
"Not 'of her displeasure, but her sorrow, Sarah."
' Well, her sorrow, if you choose to have it so.
But not of my sorrow do you take account. You
204 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
love me, do you ? do you think your meek confes-
sion a fit reward for the love which led me to seek
your presence through fire and flood? Oh, Kich-
ard," she continued in a softened tone, "you know
not the meaning of such love as I have given you.
Ever since I have been old enough to know the
meaning of the term, I have applied it only to you ;
andjong before, the sound of your voice, as you
spoke laughingly to me, set my childish heart beat-
ing to strange music. I saw you married to another,
and felt my own heart turning to stone, and then a
fever came after the chill, and I rushed out beneath
the terrible storm to cool the fire which rose to my
brain. Sternly as I had steeled my thoughts, I
fainted when you bid me farewell, to come out here ;
and when I read the tenets of your religion, sup-
posing you and Margaret converted to them, I left
a bridegroom, who waited for me, I left friends and
country, and home, and periled life to follow you
over a dreary, interminable space, and offer myself
to you. You have been my one absorbing thought
for years. I have endured wild pangs of jealousy
and despair ; and in return for this you say, * I love
you, Sarah how shall I prove it?' You need not
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 205
prove it ; I will not have milk-and-water in exchange
for the glowing wine which I offer to your lips. I
would rather complete the martyrdom of myself
which has for so long been going on. If you were
attracted toward me as inevitably as I have been
toward you, you could not resist your fate you
would dare and defy all suffering and danger you
would cry, { Come to my bosom, my Sarah ; it asks
you, and it must have you !' "
"I do say so I implore it! it must be. I have
thought so long, and now I can hesitate no more.
You shall be my wife my second wife but
my most madly adored ! Let us seal our betrothal,
thus."
He attempted to place a kiss upon the mouth
which had just breathed such burning words to him,
but before she yielded, she sai4
" You must swear to me, first, that you will keep
the engagement ; for I scarcely trust you yet."
" Do not distract me with doubts. I could not
forsake you, if I would ; you are too beautiful.
You have been drawing me toward this fulfillment as
inevitably as fate. But I will swear, if you must
have it so, by all that is holy in earth and heaven,
13
206 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
if we both live three months, to make you my wife
There ! skeptic, will that do ?"
They sealed the unholy promise with a kiss
sweet, sweet, it may have been, but death lurked at
the bottom of the cup. The wind arose with a long,
low wail, and swept around the corner of the house,
and rushed away desperately as if intent upon bear-
ing the fatal oath to the unsuspicious ear, which was
waiting to catch the sound of a husband's footstep ;
and when it had startled that loving ear, to sweep
on with it up to the sorrowing heavens, and down with
it to laughing hell. But if the wife's ear caught the
fierce melancholy of the wind's arising voice, it may
have chilled her heart with a nameless foreboding,
but it could not syllable its shriek to the truth, and
it rushed past, over the city, and went crying dole-
fully up and down the plains, and beating itself
against the mountains.
"How the wind rises," murmured Margaret; "the
very sound of it makes me shudder. Why does
not Eichard come back ? it's past ten o'clock. I
wonder what makes me so cowardly this evening.
I will go and sit bj r Harry's crib ; the sight of my
child's face will keep off these nervous fancies."
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 207
"How the wind does rage," she sighed, after a
time; " what should I do if my husband should die,
when he can not be away from me one evening
without my feeling so lost and desolate ? Darling
little Harry ; I Ve a mind to awaken him to keep
me company. Eleven O-CIOCK; i"
CHAPTER
Thou think' st it much
To mourn the early dead; but there are tears
Heavy with deeper anguish ! we endow
Those whom we love, in our fond, passionate blindness
With power upon our souls too absolute
To be a mortal's trustl MES.
It was dark ;
When I rose, cold, still, and stark,
It was night; I saw the moon,
And the glow-worms in the grass
Seemed to wonder what I was.
MBS.
" I HAVE got to break the news to her, and I may
as well do it first as last," said Kichard Wilde in a
cold, hard tone, as he approached his dwelling the
day succeeding his oath to Sarah Irving.
When a man resolves upon a villainous deed, be
sure he will do it in the most villainous manner, for
if he should stop to soften it, his resolves may give
way altogether ; that is, if he is a new beginner.
" I do not see why I should dread it so much," he
mused, as he acknowledged the quaking of his
heart ; " Margaret will be very unreasonable if she
FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 209
makes any objections. I have been here nearly two
years, now, and have, so far, resisted all invitations to
take another wife ; which not many men would have
done. I have been a good husband, and shall con-
tinue to be. She shall always have the preference
as my first wife. She need not feel insulted by my
choice, either ; I have selected a person with whom
she can associate ; her best friend ; so that they may
get along peaceably together. My friends are de-
termined that I shall marry again, and I know they
are holding back the office I want, until they are
convinced that I am going to fulfill their wishes. I
have promised them, and I shall not let a woman's
jealous tears stand in the way. I do not see why I
fear anger. She has never spoken harshly to me
since we were married ; it is not in her nature. I
do not exactly think I shall like tho look of her
eyes ; so astonished ! but it will be over soon and
it must be got over, that 's all !"
With a look of dogged resolution he entered the
house.
The doors were standing open, for it was a pleas-
ant day, although early in March. Tea waited upon
the table, and little Harry, with his hair brushed
14
210 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
into its prettiest curls, and one of his nicest frocks
on, ran to meet him as he entered.
He took the little fellow in his arms a moment.
" Where 's mamma ?"
Henry pointed his dimpled finger toward the gar-
den ; and, looking out, he saw her bending over
something which seemed to claim her attention.
" It must be done," he said, as he sat the child
down.
He stepped out upon the walk.
"Oh, Eichard, come here!" cried Margaret, as
she perceived him, " these violets are out already.
The snow 's but just melted away, and here they
are, peeping out of the young grass so beautifully."
Her face was all in a glow of delight ; for she had
a lovely woman's pleasure in things fair and innocent.
" Why, what a fuss to make about a flower," he
replied, but he took the one she gave him? and play-
ed with it in an embarrassed manner.
" It makes me so happy to see the spring again.
The winter was so dreary; don't you think so,
Richard?"
She put her hand upon his shoulder and smiled
in his face ; a bright, child-like smile.
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 211
" Next week we will transplant those roses and
wild-pinks from the plains into the garden," she
continued.
" I am afraid I shall not be at home next week."
" Why, where can you be going, Kichard, when
there f s no place out of the city for you to go to ?
I hope you have not got to go on any expedition
among the Indians."
" No, not that."
'' It seems as if I could not let you go, even for
a day, my husband. You grow more necessary to
me every hour."
She put her arms about his waist, and leaned her
head, against him, as if she thought of losing him
for a time, made her cling the more closely to him
now. The touch of that brow upon his bosom
ought to have consumed its purpose to ashes, but
the heart beneath had steeled itself in selfishness
until it scarcely quivered even then.
" The truth is, Maggie, I have had a vision. It
has been revealed to me what I must do. But be-
fore I tell you, you must promise me to be recon-
ciled to the will of the Lord, as revealed by the
Spirit to me."
212 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
" What can it be, Kichard, that is to take you
away ? If it is any foolish enterprise among the
Indians, or in search of further possessions for
thi people, I do not know that I can promise to be
reconciled ; not to any thing that places you in any
danger."
" What a foolish child you are, Margaret ; and a
little wicked, too. You speak as lightly as if a rev-
elation was a thing which we could obey or not, as
we choose."
The wife was about to speak, but he went on :
" Those to whom the Spirit reveals itself must fol
low its dictates or forever be cast into hell. I have
had a vision, in which it has been told me that I
should love you forever, and that we should never
die, but live together and see the thousand years of
Christ's reign upon the earth, and be by Him re-
warded for our obedience and willingness now to
cast aside our selfish human will, and sacrifice to
Him."
" I have no fault to find with such a vision as
that," raising her eyes laughing and full of love, to
gaze in the face of her husband.
There was a moment's silence, while a little bird
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 213
went twittering by to its rest, and the sun shot out
a lurid raj, from the clouds that rested on the
western horizon, which trembled upon the head of
Margaret; a breeze fluttered by, sweet with the
odors arising from the early flowers ; then all was
hushed, as if nature held her breath, while the last
moment of Margaret's happiness went by.
" And the vision furthermore revealed to me that
however against our present temporal wishes, and
the selfishness of the flesh it might be, that to carry
out all the great principles of our Faith, and attain
the mutual happiness to which we now look for-
ward, I must no longer resist the laws laid down,
but must take another wife, from among the maidens
of the city ; and I have thought that Sarah Ir
ving "
A sharp, low scream, shuddering, prolonged, and
strange ! who could have dreamed such a sound
could ever have been uttered by Margaret's lips that
smiled but a moment ago ?
" The neighbors will hear you, and a pretty story
they will make out of it. Why could you not have
listened to reason?" exclaimed Kichard, angry at
this opposition.
214 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
But she heard nothing more of his questions ; she
had dropped at his feet like a stone, or any senseless
thing.
A fear that he had killed her, made the husband
tremble ; in an agony of remorse he lifted her and
carried her into the house.
Their child cried with terror when he saw his
mother's strange white face. It was two or three
hours before life returned, so that Margaret remem-
bered what had happened, or why she lay there
helpless upon her bed. She opened her eyes and
saw Eichard sitting upon the side of the couch, and
became conscious that he was feeling her pulse.
She closed them again, she could not bear even the
dim lamp-light, and made a feeble effort to withdraw
her hand from the one which had clasped her's once
at the altar with a vow that was now in ruins.
He attempted to give her some water, but with a
sudden effort she put aside the glass and raised her-
self from the pillow.
" Leave me I" she said, with a faint move of her
hand.
He was about to kiss her, to soothe her with ca-
resses, but a look of such mental agony blanched
Or FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 215
her face, while a fire so vivid leaped to lier eye, that
he was obliged to obey. He scarcely thought it could
be Margaret, sitting there upon the bed with so
changed a countenance, with contracted brow and
blazing eye compelling him from her presence. Like
the wounded lioness the moment before she expires,
pain, and a terrible threatening gleamed over her
livid face. " It was the pride and purity of her in-
jured womanhood, rising up in its self-defense.
Love, and the sacred marriage relation, had hereto-
fore sanctified his caresses to her, but now divorced
in heart, and in deed, and word, according to her
feeling the offer of them was mockery and degra-
dation.
He went out, because he found it impossible to do
otherwise, andxshe was alone. She sat there rigidly,
looking just as able to sustain herself as a piece of
sculptured marble, white and senseless. Her blue
eyes were dark and fixed, the lids drooping heavily,
and black circles deepening about them.
The candle flared in the wind, throwing fantastic
shadows over the walls and around her motionless
figure. Her child, when its father went out and
closed the door, grew afraid of the darkness and si
216 MOKMON WIVES; A NAKRATIVE
lence of the parlor, and came pattering softly with
his little feet into her room, and took hold of her
dress.
"Mamma, mamma," he said, with a grieved
cry.
At first she did not hear him, but presently that
little voice smote through the anguish which was
steeling her heart; a great shudder ran over her
limbs and features.
" My God !" she sobbed, " I can not bear the face
of my own child ;" and she sank back upon her bed^
with her face to the wall.
That was the sharpest pang that could by any
fate or possibility ever pierce the heart of a woman ;
she would never know another that was keener
than it : the innocent, sweet face of her own child,
bearing in its every feature the reminder that it was
his child, and so, her own babe, her darling, inflict-
ing agony upon her. His child, born of their love
and he alive, and she alive, and this gulf fixed
irrevocably between them, and that little grieved
face looking up to her in wonder and affright. She
did not think all this her brain whirled round and
round in a fiery darkness, her eyes were pressed
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 217
upon her pillow ; she was at times conscious of a
half formed prayer to die.
Little Harry crept away from the bed into a cor-
ner 'of the room, and laid his head down upon the
floor and cried forlornly. A sense of desolation, of
being unprotected, was filling his infant heart with
fear and grief. He had had no supper, his wait-
ing-maid had gone home to her mother's that
evening, and there was no one to care for him. The
flickering shadows made him afraid, and his mamma
lying there without speaking to him was his worst
sorrow. He did not dare to cry very load ; his sup-
pressed sobs echoed piteously through the lonely
room ; no one came to him to soothe him, to kiss
him, and ask him why he was weeping : but infancy
has refuges from grief, and by-and-by he cried him-
self to sleep, and lay upon the hard floor, his cheek
pillowed on his hand, and flushed with the tears
which had not all dried away when Susan came
back and placed him in his crib.
Kesenting the manner in which Margaret had dis-
missed him ; resenting even her unhappiness, as if
she had been inflicting some kind of selfishness upon
him, with the unreasonableness which always char-
218 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
acterizes the offending party, Eichard went out of
the house in an angry mood. Being angry with
himself and stricken with remorse, he chose to be-
lieve that somebody else was in the wrong, and that
it was only stubborn opposition to his lawful wishes
where he had expected obedience, which made him
feel so uncomfortable. At first he thought he would
go to a meeting of the councilmen down in the
city, but he was too deeply disturbed for his pleas-
ure, and he sought consolation where it was most
likely to be found. A rapid walk dissipated some
of his passion, but it was still with an agitated face
that he knocked at Miss Irving's door.
Her little servant-girl ushered him into her pres-
ence. She stood to receive him, eager, expectant,
with a flush upon her cheek and sparkle in her eye.
" What is it that disturbed you, Eichard ?" she '
asked in her tenderest voice, as she took his hand
and looked up sweetly into his countenance.
" The worst is over, Sarah," he replied j " I have
told Margaret."
For an instant the girl was moved with feeling
for another besides herself; her cheek paled, and her
eyes sought the floor.
Or FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 219
"What did she say? was she very unwilling?"
she asked when she had summoned confidence.
" No matter what she said, now, my beautiful ; 1
am 'a little nervous and out of temper, but the sight
of you will soothe me, if any thing earthly can.
(jet your guitar and sing to me your most passion-
ate love-song, Sarah, for next week we will be mar-
ried ; you will be mine all mine, so soon !" and he
flung his arm about her and drew her toward him,
while he gazed upon her glorious beauty with a
glance of fire.
And the deluded girl was willing to accept this
passion, which rushed over every holy thing on
earth to attain her, as the love upon which her hopes
of happiness were founded. She returned his gaze
for an instant with one as warm, and then the lashes
swept down to her cheeks, while a blush overspread
them which would have been beautiful had she pos-
sessed any true title to his devotion.
She shrank away from him and took up her gui-
tar. All that evening she played and sang, laughed
and talked, and made herself irresistibly attractive,
and Eichard reclined upon the sofa, and permitted
her to fascinate him. Eemorse knocked loudly at
220 FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION.
his heart, but lie laughed the more gayly, and would
not hear. A vision of his home rose up before him,
melancholy as a stranded ship gone to pieces on a
lonely shore, but he chased it away with the light of
Sarah's eyes.
When he retured to his dwelling late that night,
his boy was sleeping in his crib in their room, but
Margaret with her broken heart, was shut up in ter-
rible solitude, in a chamber by herself.
CHAPTER XIV.
But the night grew damp and cold,
The sullen wind rushed by
I seemed to he growing gray and old
Under that leaden sky,
I felt my cheek grow pale
And its rounded bloom decay :
The wind rushed by with a sullen wail
Seeming to say,
" There will come no day !
Wither and waste and die away I"
THERE was a great rush to the temple the Sab-
bath upon which Sarah Irving was sealed to Kich-
ard Wilde. The bride, with her triumphant ex-
pression and beautiful features, elicited murmurs of
admiration; but a few pale, consumptive-looking
women there were among the multitude, quietly
wiped away the tears which stole down their sunken
cheeks, as they thought of the first wife abandoned
in her home. Their own experience in suffering
taught them compassion upon her.
The husband returned with his new wife to her
own home. She had built and prepared it in antic-
14
222 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
ipation of this consummation. In the second story
she had a beautiful room with an arched roof, and
deep, pointed windows, which she had designed her-
self, and had constructed by a skillful architect.
This was the bridal-chamber^ The furniture could
not be very elegant, but she had added to it by
every little feminine device in her power. The first
flowers of spring hung their blushing heads in
every nook. From the windows scenes of beauty
spread away ; and Nature, looking the guilty couple
in the face, with her simple and sublime purity of
loveliness, ought to have been a constant rebuke.
The sunshine of spring was upon every thing. Day
after day, as they sat at the windows, idling away
the time in each other's society, they saw the snow
melt off from the mountains, and rich tints, emerald
and pink, creep over the plains. White clouds float-
ed over the deeps of the sky, and light showers
glittered down upon the blooming earth. It was a
fair and proper time for the- happiness of a newly-
wedded couple. The air was rich with the perfume
of flowers, and seemed as full of love and delight aa
a living breath. Soft winds stole in and played
with the curls of the bride, lifting them from lovely
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 223
shoulder and smiling brow, with, as gentle a touch,
as the lover's who sometimes grew jealous of their
dallying, and stole the dark tresses away into his
own fingers. Sunlight gilded the arches of the
roof) and birds went sweeping by upon dizzy wings,
warbling wild carols to the blossoms and the breezes ;
moonlight crept in with subdued radiance and lis-
tened to their evening whispers.
They heard at times a wail upon the wind, and
saw a shadow lurking behind the sunlight, but they
closed their ears except to the music, and shut their
eyes except to each others' beauty. If Eichard left
her but for an hour, his bride felt as if she were
losing him terror and an undefined foreboding
took possession of her ; and she ran to meet him
upon his return with an expression of joy which
would have flattered any man.
She trusted to her great beauty to retain the prize
she had won, for despite her theory of passionate
attractions she felt in her soul that such attractions
were not everlasting ; that decay and death were in
their very nature. All the time when he was not
with her she studied how to render herself more
beautiful to him when he should come ; what new
224 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
charm to wind about him, soft and firm like a silken
thread.
And yet they knew, this new-married couple,
that they were not perfectly happy. A sense of
unsubstantiability beset them. Like those who
quaff the glowing wine and know that the pleasure
it kindles is fleeting and to be repaid with pain,
they only drank the deeper of the maddening
draughts of their love. If one could have watched
them, when they were thus happy together, a shade,
a sudden look of pain, might often have been seen
stealing upon one face or the other ; then its compan-
ion would look doubtfully, inquiringly, and a mer-
rier laugh, a more passionate caress would reassure
them.
And Margaret ! we might leave a blank here upon
these pages, as emblems of the weeks that came to
her, as far as outward circumstances revealed any
thing.
Her life was blank enough ; dark as the darkest
night that ever settled upon the world, but she had
not yet the deadness of desolation which she desired.
Flakes of fire drifted slowly and continuously down
through the gloom which they could not illuminate,
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 225
and settled upon her soul. For days she tasted no
food and took no sleep. One or two of her friends
came in to offer her sympathy ; but they went away
without speaking a word upon the subject, awed by
her marble face.
Neighbors, inquisitive and mean, haunted her
house with prying eyes, but she heeded them no
more than as if they had been shadows. She said
" yes" and " no" sometimes when she was addressed,
but there was no meaning in the words.
"La! poor soul, she's going crazy, I believe,"
whispered one to another, as they left her house.
" She need n't have taken it so hard. All the rest
of us, pretty much, have had to get used to it, and
so will she."
"If she don't go mad first," replied the other.
" "What if she should do as that woman did over
in the east part of the city last week?" continued
her companion.
"How was that?"
"Lai have n't you heard ? They were poor folks,
rather; lived over there in one of those little
houses ; but I s'pose she was one of the pining kind
Her husband took another wife, a few weeks ago ;
15
226 MOEMON WIVES; A NAKRATIVE
she did n't make any complaint, and nobody knew
she felt so very bad, but one day one of the neigh-
bors just stepped in, when she was alone, and found
her hanging from the rafters by a rope, and her little
baby on the floor clinging to her dress, and crying.
She had hung herself."
" For mercy's sake !" and for a moment there was
a thoughtful silence between the two gossips.
That suicide had been committed and a little babe
left motherless, clinging to the garments of the dead,
touched even their hearts. They were women, al-
though they were degraded ; degraded by circum-
stances which deprived them of self-respet and per-
sonal dignity, and so, of course, hardened their na-
tures, and corrupted what should have been most
sacred, ennobling and elevating. Perhaps this quiet
tragedy reminded them of the long ago, when they
should have hurled indignation at the man who had
dared thus to trample the heart of a woman under
his foot.
All, like these two, had their remarks to make,
and opinions to pass ; and by far the greater majority
of the men and women of the community spoke
bitterly and blamefully of Margaret. Her pallid
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 227
face was a reproach to them, and they could not
bear it.
So they turned and heaped honors upon Eichard
"Wilde, commended, admired him, and gave him the
position among them after which he thirsted ; filled
up his cup of glory to the brim ; and cursed his
wife, in her mute, uncomplaining misery ; after the
fashion of human nature, generally, when " wise in
its own conceit."
When Margaret first began to arouse out of the
stupor which had held her faculties in a merciful
thrall, the sharp sense of her desolation pressed her
so fiercely upon every side that suicide for a time
seemed the only relief.
She had always been a religious woman, and had
ever strengthened herself to meet calamity with the
armor of her faith. She had oftentimes pondered
the question: " How could she continue to live if
Eichard should be taken from her by death ?" and
had felt such faith in the durability and purity of
their affection, and that their parting could only be
for time, not for eternity, that she had schooled
herself to endure the loss if necessary, with the pa-
tience of a Christian, trusting in God, doing her duty
228 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
to her child, and holding herself ready to be again
united to him when it should please the good Father
also to summon her. This was the greatest sorrow
her fears had ever conjured up ; and now, the blow
fell so suddenly, it struck her down, even from her
confidence in the love and justice of the Almighty.
There was no resting-place for her tumultuous
thoughts. Her child, which had been so unspeaka-
ble a joy and blessing, seemed now only to remind
her of the brightness which glared from the past
over the darkness of the future. She put him away
from her. Her girl had almost the sole charge of
Mm ; she had not kissed him since the fatal night on
which the star of her life went out of its heaven.
Her friend her friend Sarah Irving, and Richard
in her company, whiling away in voluptuous happi-
ness, those hours which dragged like the car of Jug-
gernaut over her of them she could not think, not
a moment ; and yet they kept flitting before her im-
agination, tricked out in smiles and beauty, until her
burning brain whirled round with a torturing hum,
and her heart fainted and lay like a lump of ice in her
bosom.
One bright afternoon she put on her bonnet and
OF FACTS STRANGEK THAN FICTION. 229
Vail, and left the house, for the first time since her
loss ; she had not determined upon any particular
direction, but felt that she must walk out in the open
air, or the four walls of her room would close in
upon her, and crush her brain. She was afraid of
madness, and resolved that death should come first,
Her purpose, not clearly developed, and yet tena-
ciously fixed upon her mind, was to walk rapidly
until she came to some body of water deep enough,
and there drown herself.
With a hasty step, which was more a stride than
her usual graceful and gentle gait, she passed the
streets of the city and went out into the solitude.
As soon as she was away from the city, she tore the
vail from her face and breathed deep inspirations of
the pure, wild air.
Almost unconsciously she wandered toward the
lake ; on and on, hurriedly, over miles of ground,
feeling no fatigue. Her feet pressed down the rarest
flowers, which gave back perfume, though they were
crushed to death (poor Margaret! she could not
emulate the flowers, and die with a blessing on her
lips ; she only prayed silently and fast, for their in-
sensibility to suffering) ; the blue sky looked down
230 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
with a cairn pity and a sublime love upon her pallid
cheeks and hollow eyes ; the breeze condoled with
her, the meadow-lark sang to her ; her mother earth
greeted her with such quiet, unobtrusive, and yet ev-
ident sympathy, that, for the first time, her over-
wrought nerves relaxed their tension so that the
great tears rolled one after another unheeded from
her eyes.
She had gone a long, long ways. The lake was
before her, glittering in the light and murmuring on
the strand. It was a wild and solitary spot, and
very beautiful, where she stayed her footsteps and
sat down upon a stone. A rock rose up beside her
and partially screened her from the sight of any who
might chance to pass along the path which wound
by that way, although she feared and thought little
of intrusion. She took off her bonnet and bared her
brow, which was hot, though livid, to the breeze.
The waters looked cooling and she bathed her face
i i them ; she thirsted, but she could not quench her
1 hirst with them, for they would have been to her
lips as the waters of life had been, brackish and
burning. She looked longingly down into their
depths. As soon as she could summon strength to
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 231
arise from her seat, she intended to try them and
find if the peace and rest which they promised from
this world's dreadful warfare, lurked beneath them.
In the mean time, she sat without any clearly de-
fined wish ; memories of her child came to her, but
gave her no consolation ; faint, far away thoughts
of her mother and her New England home, which,
only tortured her in contrast with the present ; a
dream, distant and seeming apart from her own ex-
perience, of a couple who stood in a dim, sweet-
scented parlor and took each other by the hand and
promised to love until death, while suddenly the
thunder crashed down and broke off their trembling
words.
Thus she sat motionless, gazing upon the beckon-
ing lake. She would not have heard the clatter of
horses' feet as they swept past very near to her, had
not a voice whose lightest tone had never failed to
thrill her heart, spoken, and almost by her side.
" Dear Sarah I is not this a beautiful spot?"
"Oh, yes! and I am enjoying my ride so much."
Margaret looked out of her retreat. There they
went, flying like the wind, on their handsome steeds,
*
proud, happy, brilliant. Sarah's riding-dress stream-
232 MOKMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
ed on the wind, but not so gracefully as her dark hair.
Her crimson scarf fluttered joyfully ; she turned her
proud, beautiful head toward her companion who
leaned toward her lovingly as he spoke some low,
soft word. Away! over the flowery plains rode
the bridegroom, and his bride. And nature shone just
as goldenly upon them as upon the deserted wife ;
and even the sympathy of nature became a mockery.
She strained her heavy eyes to look after them, un-
til they lessened, like two mated birds, out of sight,
across the prairie.
She- arose to go toward the lake, but all was dark
before her, and she wandered in an opposite direc-
tion, forgetful of her purpose.
" Will I never reach it ? will I never get to the
cool water which is forever to quench this pain?"
she cried, as she staggered on, yet ever away from
what she sought.
Night came and found her still out beneath the
starry sky, fainting and ill, but coming somewhat to
her sense and sight, and with her feet turned home-
ward.
What fate was that which would not let her have
peace, but which led her steps through that very
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 233
street, where the two that had wronged her, found
luxurious refuge from thoughts of her ? She passed
by on the opposite side of the way, and chancing to
look up where a bright light shone from a window,
she had a glimpse of shining arches and gay flowers,
of a beautiful creature bending over her guitar,
whose soft melodies mingled with' her impassioned
voice, and behind her, leaning over her chair, in a
rapt and tender attitude, was the man she had come
thousands of miles to rob from his true wife.
The gentleness so peculiarly her own, was all
gone from Margaret now. She darted across the
street and into the lower rooms without waiting for
permission to enter, found the staircase, she knew
not how, burst open the door of their apartment
and confronted them. The soft brown curls which
were wont- to shade her face, had been knotted up
behind, so that there was nothing to soften the aw-
ful severity of her expression ; her cheeks had a
round, red spot upon them ; her eyes shot glances
of fire. Sarah dropped her guitar as she sprang to
her feet, and stood faltering beneath that glance;
Eichard, too, for a moment, absolutely cowered be-
fore the woman he had injured.
234 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
" Sarah Irving!" cried the intruder, in a clear and
thrilling tone, "I have called you friend for many
years ; now, shall I curso you with a curse that will
ring through eternity, for this proof of your friend-
ship?"
"No; oh, do not!" answered the girl, whose
haughty spirit was for a moment quelled by the
consciousness of guilt.
"Then give me back my husband. Eichard
Wilde, you will come away from her, before I curse
or kill her."
Awed by her manner, he moved toward the door,
but Sarah called out in a voice of agonized entreaty
"Kichard!"
He paused between the two. Margaret's eyes
took on a wilder look ; the light began to flare fit-
fully, in their sockets ; the spirit within was shaken
by a mighty storm.
"Did I tell you to come home?" she asked with
a laugh ; "did I call you my husband ? well, I had
forgotten! You shall keep him, Sarah; I always
knew that Harry loved you, darling ; and now you
are going to be kind to him. It J s all right," with
another hysterical laugh, " and now I must go. Eich-
FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 235
ard will wonder why I stay so long ; he does not
like that I should be away from him much."
She turned with a bewildered air, and fell in taking
the first step. When they raised her she was un-
conscious of who they were who hold her.
CHAPTER XT.
But there rings on a sudden, a passionate cry,
There is some one dying or dead,
And a sullen thunder is rolled ;
For a tumult shakes the city,
And I wake, my dream is fled ;
In the shuddering, dawn, behold,
"Without knowledge, without pity,
By the curtains of my bed
That abiding phantom cold.
TENNYSON.
THE result of Margaret's over-excitement was
brain-fever. Eichard carried her to her own house
that night, and summoned a physician to her bed-
side. He was not heartless enough to leave her to
the care of a servant, or the neighbors. He had not
intended by taking another wife to cast the old one
away ; he had expected Margaret always to occupy
the most honorable position, as his first wife, had
not her different idea of the marriage relation caused
her to refuse the station assigned her. Kemorse and
affection blended, made him very unhappy, as he
kept his solitary watches at her couch.
Sarah now suffered from loneliness ; and in her
FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 237
neglected, weary hours, when she listened in vain for
the footstep she loved, she began to realize how im-
possible it was that a man should devote himself to
two wives at the same time. In the madness of
passion, when she resolved to run all risks of hap-
piness, in the attainment of her wishes, she thought
always to keep the attentions which her beauty and
youth had won her.
But as day after day passed, and Eichard came
not once to ask after her welfare, her proud and pas-
sionate spirit chafed itself wild against the bars of
its prison. She recklessly wished, that if Margaret
could not speedily be well, she would die, and leave
her lover to her arms again.
After four or five days he came; she sprang
down the steps to meet him, but her warm greeting
was received with sadness and coldness. Margaret
was no better ; but a neighbor had insisted upon
watching by her side, until his return ; he expected
his beloved wife would die ; there was reproach in
his tone as he spoke, which cut the soul of his lis-
tener ; but she had coveted her fate, and she would
not yield to repentance thus soon.
She did not dare to express her thought that he
15
238 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
might leave the sick woman to the care of others
and return to her ; but she pitied him, because he
was pale and worn with watching ; she was sure
that he needed rest ; and she hovered about him
paying him every little beguiling attention.
Despite of her kindness he staid but a little while.
His thoughts were more with the wasted form upon
the bed, in his first home, than with the lovely being
before him ; and he went back to keep weary vigils
through the night, and have his heart and conscience
distracted by what he saw and heard. Margaret
was delirious the most of the time, unless she lay in
a stupor ; and this night her feverish fancies flowed
fast from her lips.
Conjured up by her incoherent words, the past, in
vivid scenes and processions, glided through the
apartment. In the hush of midnight, that low, wild
murmur filled the air, and the guilty man sat there
trembling and listening. He heard the pebbles
crush softly under his tread, when he and Margaret
walked upon the shore of the shining ocean, and
pledged their love, in the golden days of long ago ;
he saw the blush and the drooping eye-lashes, and
heard the timid confession, and remembered how his
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 239
cheek burned as he marked the rose quiver which
nestled in her innocent bosom.
He heard his voice, and a lower one, which was
that same pure girl's, pledging themselves to each
other before the minister ; the father and mother
looking on, and giving away their darling into his
keeping; how had he requited their trust? He
saw the bridal-chamber, with its simple snowy
curtains, and its perfume of rose-leaves, and that
young girl there, his wife, holding his burning heart,
hushed in reverent awe, while she knelt in unaffect-
ed piety to ask her Heavenly Father to hallow their
great love. He saw her giving up all that was dear
to her, except him and his love, leaving kindred
and country, clinging to him alone, in the hope to
make him* ~a religious man, and fully trusting his
promises that he would brighten her banishment
from home by an increase, if that were possible, of
affection, and devotion. He saw her lying pale and
faint, but with a smile of the tenderest love and hap-
piness upon her features, as some one placed a tiny
beginning of life in his arms, and told him that it
was his child, and he kissed his Margaret and called
her a mother.
240 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
He could not bear these memories ; nor the tones,
now pleading, now sad and reproachful, and anon
loving and low, which flowed from those feverish
lips in a stream which would not cease. He paced
back and forth through the- gloom, and cursed
himself for a traitor, a religious hypocrite, and a
murderer. With that same selfishness which had
characterized his actions thus far, he could not now,
before his accusing conscience, bear his fair share
of the blame, but heaped the weight of sin upon,
the head of his beautiful tempter.
" Human nature could not withstand the influence
of that siren creature. She sought me out, with the
purpose to tempt me and lead me astray. My church
aided her fascinations my ambition aided both.
Sarah Irving ! I despise you more bitterly than I
can tell ; my love is changed to loathing."
So for the present he felt ; so for the present he
swore, that if Margaret's life was spared, and his ut-
ter repentance could induce her to forgive him, that
lie would never offend her confidence again.
And to strengthen his resolution he stole out be-
side the bed where his little boy was forlornly sleep-
ing in unwashed face, and unbrushed curls.
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 241
"Poor Harry!" lie murmured, ll you look like a
motherless child, as I am afraid you soon will* be."
And then he sank upon his knees and prayed,
partly from revived affection, and more from re-
morse and cowardice, that the consequences of his
sin might be lightened, that the weight of murder
might be lifted from his soul, and 'his child not be
left an orphan.
As when a beautiful vessel is broken in fragments,
the shattered parts still glitter with a melancholy
brightness, so in the visions of the sick woman kept
drifting and glittering the broken fragments of her
happiness. They were never more to be combined,
and gradually they floated off into the ocean of the
past, leaving a blank and dreary waste. The fever
left her brain ; and with eyes that could just bear
the faintest glimmer of day, a whispering voice and
wasted form, she lay upon her bed, meekly and si-
lently asking to die.
She had not hope enough to infuse strength into
her worn frame, and she lay a long time balancing
between life and death. Eichard was there every
day, performing kind services for her, but she asked
no questions, receiving what was offered from his
16
242 MOKMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
hand with the same quiet patience as from the hand
of the nurse. As she observed that he scarcely went
away from the house at all, the thought occurred to
her that he had returned to her with the intention of
going away no more, and for an instant, her broken
heart fluttered as of old ; but the fluttering only
gave it pain in stillness only could it find rest.
She could never again have confidence in him ; he
had deserted her once ; she could have forgiven him
a momentary infidelity ; but this was so deliberately
planned, and so cruelly and selfishly executed, that
her trust was entirely gone.
" I have leaned upon a broken reed. If I repose
upon it again, it will only be to be bruised and fallen
again."
Sometimes he kissed her brow or lips, or pressed
her hand, humbly, imploriDgly asking her forgive-
ness in that mute manner. The struggle was great
with her for a while. She would not resist these
little tokens of repentance ; she only looked at him
pityingly from the shadowy depths of those hollow,
spiritual eyes. For she did pity him. Her nature
was that of a true woman ; she loved him, pitied
him, and at last forgave him. She loved that man
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 243
strange, strange, oh, God ! the heart of a woman as
Thou hast made it, loving until death, forgiving mor-
tal injury, but true to its innate principles of virtue
she loved him as tenderly as ever, but she felt that
she was not his wife ; that he had divorced her
that their union was dissolved. Dissolved, but not
desecrated. She had been true to him in every deed
and thought ; she had deemed him as faithful to her ;
she had seen him go out to meet temptation without
even a passing fear for his truth ; and now that wed-
lock was no longer made sacred by one faith, one
love, one purpose, it was not wedlock.
Lying there gazing into the world of spirits,
whither she expected shortly to go, all worldly pas-
sions of resentment or hatred passed away. She
felt divine compassion upon the deluded, the ignor-
ant, or the willfully sinful around her ; she prayed
for the whole of that polluted city, as Christ prayed
upon the cross "Father, forgive them, for they
know not what they do."
Now came an incident which aroused her to more
feeling than she had thought possible. Little Har-
ry was taken sick. Neglect, and the care of a serv-
ant, had been such as to allow him to take a severe
244 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
cold, resulting in a dangerous fever. She knew how
much he must need a mother's care, and she re-
proached herself that she had so long forgotten him,
that she had allowed herself such feelings toward
him, innocent, and helpless of his circumstances as
he was, and she desired earnestly health enough to
be enabled to do her duty by him.
She had his crib brought into her room where she
could see that he received proper attention. His
moans and feverish tossings distressed her deeply ;
and the effort she made to get well restored her
strength more rapidly than it had been in coming
back.
Eichard took the most of the care of him. The
day that she was strong enough to leave her couch,
and creep to his side, her child's illness reached its
crisis. Every one thought him to be dying. She
sat in her arm-chair and insisted upon holding him
in her lap. His little mouth was livid, his cheeks
fiery red, and dark circles about his half-closed
eyes ; while the breath struggled fearfully with the
devouring fever which impeded it. Pale, looking
more like a spirit than a mortal, the mother clasped
him and would allow no one else to take him. At
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 245
times she wished that death would release him from
his agony and then she would have only to follow
him out of this desolate world. Again, she only
murmured, " ' Thy will be done.' If it please heaven
to restore him, I will never again neglect a mother's
part."
The physician sat by waiting for the crisis, and
Eichard knelt before Margaret gazing into that
sweet, suffering face of his child. Yes, his child,
too ; and Margaret knew that he had a right to feel
the agony which was expressed in his face. In that
terrible moment what would not each have given to
have been restored to their proper relation ? to have
felt the mutual sorrow, love, and sympathy which
softens the hour of trial ? There they sat, separated,
father and mother, but not husband and wife, and
their child was dying between them.
The joy, the pride they had had in that beautiful
boy, the deep, strange fountains of tenderness his
coming had unsealed ; the mystery, the happiness,
and the holiness of the family ties ; the light in which
he had regarded them before he allowed himself to
pervert his belief ; his early love for Margaret, his
246 FACTS STKANGER THAN FICTION.
love for her as a mother, swept over Richard "Wilde
like a tempest.
She saw his agitation, and her slight frame bent
trembling over her boy. He yearned to weep upon
her bosom.
" Oh, Margaret I oh, Margaret I" he groaned, " my
punishment is greater than I can bear. Be recon*
ciled to me, or I shall die."
"I am reconciled. I forgive you every thing; I
love you as before, but I can never trust you again,
Richard."
" Say not so before this dying boy of ours, Mar-
garet."
He leaned his head upon her shoulder, while his
form shook like a reed.
"You will be too much for your wife and child
both, you must calm yourself," said the physician,
approaching and raising him, while he brushed a
tear from his eyes. " Let me look at the boy. His
breath is easier, there is perspiration upon his fore-
head. I think the greatest danger is over. He may
get well."
CHAPTER XVI.
I look upon a face as fair
As ever made a lisp of heaven
Falter amid its music-prayer.
Yet, if she were not a cheat,
If Maud -were all that she seemed,
And her smile were all that I dreamed,
Then the world were not so bitter
But a smile could make it sweet.
TENNTSOW.
HARRY FLETCHER had been a year in San Fran-
cisco. He had bent his entire energies to the work
before him ; he had determined, in bitterness of
heart, to be rich not that he wanted money or ex-
pected to enjoy it, but because he wanted some' ob-
ject before him for which to struggle, to prevent his
being drawn away into vice or madness. He had
succeeded as those usually do who work for a single
purpose, turning not to the right hand or the left.
The most cunning speculator never had a keener
eye for lucky chances than he ; and the end of the
year found him in possession of the fortune he
248 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
strove for. Two hundred thousand dollars well se-
cured and invested, he could count upon as his
own
It was just twelve months since he set foot in that
strange, anomalous city; and this afternoon, as he
walked back from his business to his boarding-house,
a feeling of loneliness came over him, for the first
time. He was home-sick ; he would like to see his
mother, and his friends. He asked himself if there
was another, whom he would like to meet ; if it was
for her this dreary feeling came over him ? and he
answered himself, " no I" He had got up a counter-
excitement, and worked a cure ; he was himself
again ; he could return proud and self-possessed.
From the moment of Sarah's flight, he knew well
enough where she had gone, and for what purpose ;
but he liad too much confidence in his brother-in-
law to fear for his sister's welfare ; and he only
smiled scornfully to himself at the thought of the
folly of the infatuated girl. His respect for her van-
ished, and his love with it, leaving " an aching void"
which it had taken all this year of labor and excite-
ment to fill ; and it was not filled now, but that a
dull, uneasy sense of loss was there.
OF TACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 249
As Harry walked along the street, taking the mid-
dle of it, and grasping a revolver in his hand to de-
fend himself from the danger which lurked every
where, and reflected that a year had passed in this
unprofitable way unprofitable to the spirit, not to
the purse his first home-sickness attacked him.
He could not keep that away with fire-arms, as he
did pickpockets ; and it took a very firm hold of
him. He reproached himself for not going back to
cheer his parents, left so afflicted and alone. All
the care of the farm was upon his father, who was
growing feeble ; and his mother must feel very mel-
ancholy, sitting by her little stand, knitting, knitting
away in solitude, with the piano never open, and
neither of her older children about to amuse, or as-
sist her.
As this picture came up vividly to his fancy,
the tears rushed into his eyes ; and he felt that his
heart was not hardened ; that it had come out of the
ordeal the same hopeful, generous, and affectionate
heart as before ; sadder, calmer, not quite so confid-
ing, but not ruined, by any means.
He longed for quiet, as earnestly as he had hith-
erto for the opposite. The city, with its strangely
250 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
mingled crowds, its complicated business, its lawless
habits, grew disgusting to him ; he wished for peace,
and the sight of lovely, refined women.
Suddenly he remembered that it was the time
for the post-office to be opened; there had a mail
arrived, and the distribution was to take place at
about five o'clock ; there might be a letter from
home, or from Margaret.
Dear Margaret! he had not heard from her in
months ; not directly from her since he came away.
Tender memories of their childhood thronged
about him ; she seemed to him, too, to be in some
kind of trouble, to need him, to call him ; and he
half resolved, before he reached the office, that he
would go home the overland route, and stop at the
Salt Lake city to make her a visit. He would carry
them a little portion of his wealth ; and perhaps
Eichard would spare his wife for that promised
visit home, seeing that she could have such good
protection. Sarah Irving might be there where he
should meet her, or she might not, he did not care.
His heart beat so warmly with these new plans that
he was hardly disappointed when he learned that
there was no letter for him.
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 251
Keturning to his boarding-house, he saw, as he
passed the windows, a pale, beautiful face, looking
out from one of them. He would hardly have been
more startled to have seen an angel than a face like
that in the city of San Francisco. It was the coun-
tenance of a very young girl, pure and innocent as
a child's, yet with an anxious expression of doubt
and sorrow. He had but a glimpse of it ; it seemed
to him very exquisitely lovely, set in a halo of gold-
en hair. It looked out upon him from the window
of a private room, and as it did not appear at the
tea-table, he had no means of gratifying his curiosity
further with regard to it. The room in which he
had seen it was the one adjoining his own. That
evening as he sat close to the thin partition, reading
the last New York paper, his attention was distract-
ed by the sound of the suppressed weeping and sob-
bing of some female.
At last it ceased and a soft murmur reached his
<$ar from a voice so sweet, that he knew instantly to
whom it must belong.
" Oh, our Father who art in Heaven, take care of
a poor orphan child left alone in this strange, wicked
city."
252 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
Harry dashed his paper on the floor. For a while
lie sat irresolute but the conviction was strong
within him that some one needed assistance or pro-
tection. He knew very well what a place that city
was for the timid and helpless ; and that young face
he had seen at the window, wore a look of trouble
and loneliness.
Trusting to his own good intentions that he should
not be repulsed, he left his room, and knocked at
the adjoining door. After a little hesitation, it was
unclosed, revealing a young girl, standing timidly
within, looking at him wistfully, but not daring to
bid him enter.
" You seemed to be in distress," he said in his
gentlest tone. "I was afraid that you needed a
friend, and I hoped that you would not doubt me,
when I said that I was just as willing to protect and
help you as if you were my sister."
The light shone full upon his frank and kindly
countenance.
" Oh ! I do indeed need a friend," she said, gazing
upon him half hopefully, half with fear, "I am
quite alone."
The last words were said with such sadness, and
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 253
touching confidence, that all the honor and chivalry
of the young man's nature flamed up in his breast ;
he would have died in defense of this innocent
young creature.
"May I not come in a moment, till I see how I
can serve you ? How came you alone ?"
" My father died on ship-board ; I had no other
friend with me. The ship arrived to-day, and the
captain brought me here. Oh, what am I to
do?"
" Poor child ! were you coming to California ?"
" Yes. My mother died long ago ; and my father
has been wanting to come here for a long time. He
was my only relative, and I would not let him leave
me. I told him that if he went, I too should go.
He did not wish me to come, but at last he consent-
ed ; and oh, sir, he was ill upon the ocean, and died,
and I am all alone."
The very sound of the word " alone" as she said
it, seemed to frighten her, there in that strange and
wild country.
" Poor child !" he called her again, " you shall not
be left uncared for. I am going back to the States
in about two weeks ; and if you will put yourself
16
254 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
under my protection, I will see that you get safely
back to the place you came from."
Her large blue eyes opened with a gleam of
hope.
" But I know not if I have any money to take
me back," she said, the next moment. " If my father
had any, I can not find it ; I believe that it was
robbed from him."
" There are always wretches ready to rob the
dead and the orphans," said Harry, indignantly.
" But that shall not trouble you an instant, child.
I have made two hundred thousand dollars in this
city, and I certainly did not make all for my own
pleasure. You shall have enough of it to take you
back, and to supply your wants as long as you
live."
She smiled through her tears, a sweet, sparkling
smile, the very pledge of her goodness and inno-
cence. He had taken a curious pleasure in calling
her a child, though she might have been seventeen,
very small and fairy-like. Now, as she looked up
at him, with a grateful, animated look, her little,
rosy mouth parted, and dimpling at the corners, and
her fair hair breaking in shining ringlets all about
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 255
her cheeks and neck, lie thought he had never met
any thing quite so beautiful quite so perfect a com-
bination of the woman and the child.
" You are so very kind so very good, I can
never thank you, sir," she said.
" Yes, you can. By telling me your name."
"It is Minnie, sir ; Minnie Gray."
"Where did you live?"
" We lived in a little place near New York. My
father had a nice old-fashioned house, and a flower-
garden around it, but he sold it to get money to
come here. Alas ! I shall have no home when I re-
turn nor any father," she added, with a sudden
burst of grief.
" But I will buy you a home, Minnie."
"You can not buy me friends," she sobbed.
( Oh, yes, I can, plenty of them ; but I will not
answer for their worth. Are you sure there is no
one there who loves you, or whom you love?"
" No one but the minister," she replied, sadly,
" and he is an old, feeble man, and will soon die,
too."
A suspicion born of his past experience had crept
into his mind ; something; he surely knew not what,
256 MOBMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
made the idea painful to him, of taking this young
creature to her home and there finding some young
man to thank him for it.
"Then you have no uncle or brother or lover,
Minnie ?"
" Lover?" she asked, with the wondering look of
a child ; then remembering that she had read of
lovers, and sometimes thought of them, she blushed
and said, " Oh, no !"
" "Well, I believe you, and I am glad of it. I will
not keep you from your rest any longer. Lock your
door, and go to bed, and sleep sweetly with the as-
surance that you have a friend near. If any thing
disturbs or frightens you, you have but to speak out
loud for me. My name is Harry Fletcher. I will
protect you as carefully as your father would have
done, Good-night, Minnie."
" Good-night, sir. Is it not strange that God
heard my prayer as soon as uttered, and sent you
here to be my friend ? My pastor taught me to
trust to Him when I was in trouble. Good-night."
Harry went to his bed with that simple question
of the trusting girl ringing in his ears.
" Oh, why have not men such love, such faith ?"
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 257
murmured he. " She is as good as she is beautiful.
Sweet child 1 I wanted to take her in my arms and
bless her. A timid, lost bird, alighted in this un-
congenial clime I"
It had been so long a time since any gentle emo-
tion had disturbed his heart that he could not fall
asleep very readily. He lay quarreling with his
own good impulses offended with himself because
he found himself still ready to believe that simplicity
and truth were yet in the world. As fast as he
tried to arfm himself with coldness and skepticism,
the soft voice of that young orphan in prayer, her
clear blue eyes, and childish confidence, stole upon
him unawares and left him defenseless before their
mystic power.
" Minnie Gray, Minnie Gray ! a pretty name to
speak, and a very fit name for her. How unlike
Sarah she is small, timid, fair-browed, and fair-
haired it would be impossible for her to do a boid
thing. But probably she is a little simpleton, as ig-
norant as she is innocent a baby, nothing but a
baby. Well, she needs a mother then, of course,
and I will take her home with me, and give her to
mother, to take the place of Margaret. They will
258 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
all love her, at home ; she is so gentle she appeals
to one's affections so, with her trustful manner and
sweet face. She can go to school, if she wishes.
" Ha ! it will be amusing for a confirmed bachelor
to adopt a little girl, almost a young lady ; but
mother will have the responsibility ; and poor Min-
nie wants somebody to love 1"
" "Wants somebody to love," the young man re-
peats to himself drowsily, as he sinks into dreams.
The captain of the steamboat in which Minnie
Gray came, had brought her to this boarding-house
because there were one or two women connected
with the establishment, who might afford her some
protection if they chose. What she was to do he
was too busy to think or care about ; he had done
his duty by her, and if he remembered her forlorn
situation at all, it was to conclude that so pretty a
girl would not remain long unmarried where pretty
girls were so few.
The females in the house were of a coarse order ;
but Harry had made a warm friend of one of them,
and to her he went the next morning, and stated the
lonely situation of the young girl, and the care he
wished taken of her, until he was ready to take her
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 259
back home with him. The woman promised to
treat her like a daughter, and had her occupy the
room adjoining her own ; so that Minnie, had it not
been for her grief at the loss of her father, would
have had nothing to trouble her heart about.
She was not deficient in gratitude. She always
sat with sparkling eyes, and flushing cheeks, when
she heard his step ; and in his presence the cloud of
sadness which shaded her face, always melted
away.
The two weeks, the end of which he had fixed for
his departure, passed rapidly. A difficulty arose
before Harry which he hardly knew how to settle.
He wished to accompany his protegee home by the
easiest and swiftest route ; he did not wish to send
her over the ocean alone ; and yet he felt every day,
more and more, that he must return by the over-
land way, and see Margaret. His sister had always
been very dear to him ; they had grown up together
so nearly of an age, that their feelings and sympa-
thies had been in unison ; and now, having been
from her so long, some deep feeling of tenderness
moved him to go and see her. If he should go
home the other way, it might be years before he
260 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
would meet her ; and the desire grew stronger each,
day ; and when he heard that a friend of his with
his wife, was going to New York in the same steam-
er he had wished to send Minnie by, he resolved to
place her in their care, and go himself to Utah.
"When he had formed this plan and learned from his
friends that they were quite willing to undertake the
charge of Minnie, he came to her room and told her
the arrangement he had made, and why he was
going himself by the overland route.
" The boat leaves in two days, you said, Mr.
Fletcher?"
" Yes, Minnie : will you be ready ?"
" Oh, quite ready ; I have nothing to do but wait
for it. How long did you say it would be before
you could arrive at home ?"
" A year, at least, I think. But mother will be
so glad to have me visit Maggie ; and tell her that
probably I shall bring her back with me so that the
family can very well spare me another year, with
such a hope as that."
His companion had been looking at him earnestly,
and now the tears which filled her dark blue eyes
brimmed over.
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 261
" It will be a great while for me not to see you.
And I shall not like to go to your mother's without
you to introduce me. Oh, I wish I could go your
way."
" But the fatigue will be too much for you, you
are so delicate ; and the journey is- perilous in many
ways."
" Not more perilous for me than for you. And
indeed, if you are to be in danger, I must go along.
What if I should never see you again ?"
"Well, what if you never should?" asked Harry,
looking intently into those tearful eyes.
She grew pale at the thought, and said mourn-
fully
" Then I should die, for I could not live without
a friend in the world."
"My mother will be your friend. And I shall
send my fortune home to New York ; and I shall
leave the sole weighty responsibility of my papers
and checks in your hands ; and if I should be lost,
you will find a will, and that you are remembered
in it."
"Oh, how can you talk so lightly about it?" ex-
claimed Minnie, sighing. "You know it would
262 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
break my "heart your mother's I mean, and we
should all be so sad."
" I laugh because I expect to stay alive, dear Min-
nie. I have full as good prospects of getting safely
home as you, if the Camanches do not eat me up.
I rather enjoy the idea of the journey, its novelty
and variety."
"But a year 1" sighed she, despairingly.
" Is it so long, little one ? a year is not much ;
and I think you can spend it very profitably. I
would like you to go to school some fine Ladies'
School."
"To school?" repeated Minnie, curling her rosy
lip, and forgetting her tears for a moment. " Why,
Mr. Fletcher, I think I am too old to go to school,
and I know enough for a woman."
" You do? what do you know, now, my wise
little girl?" asked Harry, laughing heartily, and
gazing into her flushed face with some curiosity.
11 1 have studied botany, and geology, and conch-
ology, and a little about birds and fishes, and as-
tronomy, and Latin, with my father, and read all his
library."
"Whew! I'm surprised," exclaimed the young
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 263
man ; and lie certainly was ; he had not dreamed
that any thing but loving thoughts, and pretty,
childish fancies, lay inside of that bright little head,
crowned with golden curls.
" And Mrs. La Martin taught me French. She
used to rent one of our rooms, and I learned to talk
with her."
" Gp on, little Ulysses, what more ?"
" Nothing, except the piano, and housekeeping,
and raising flowers."
" Ahem ! I beg your pardon, Miss Gray. It is I
who must go^ to school, before you will look upon
me as a suitable companion ; Latin ! you look like
it!"
'Don't call me Miss Gray," said Minnie, and the
grieved lip betokened the approach of another April
shower from the eyes, " and do n't ridicule me ; why
do I not look like Latin, as you say, if my father
pleased to learn it to me ? We had nothing to do
but study ; and I sang to him, and played, and we
planted flowers. I am not half so delicate as I
look. You know that consumptive lady that came
across the country for her health ? she could just
walk to the carriage when she left her home, and
264 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
when she arrived here, she was almost well ; and I
am sure it will do me good to go. You will not
think me such a very little girl then, when you see
how brave I will be. May I go with you ?"
Eager, beautiful little face, lifted up with just the
persuasive look that induced her father not to leave
her behind, when he resolved to emerge from his
study and go on a mineralogical and money-making
trip to California.
Harry thought a moment, and tried to think
calmly, though his heart beat so loudly that it rather
disconcerted his brain. He knew very well, that if
he took Minnie the overland route, it must be as his
wife. He gazed upon her and felt that it would be
hard for him to leave her for so long ; her artless
love and confidence had twined itself round and
round his blighted soul until it was all in bloom
again ; but he did not like the idea of the hardships
to which she would be exposed.
" The dangers and the privations are nothing like
what they used to be," he mused ; " as she says,
very fragile females have gone that route for their
health ; and we can take a long rest at Salt Lake
City. I think there is a company going sufficiently
OF FACTS STKANGEK THAN FICTION. 265
large that we may anticipate no danger from the
Indians."
He looked at her slender form, and tried to feel
that it was not strong enough to bear fatigue, but it
only appealed to him for protection, seeming to say,
" I am so little and light, you can carry me in
your arms, shelter me in your heart. I bloom only
in the warmth of love ; the ocean breezes will be
worse for me, if I am alone, than climbing a mount-
ain would be by the side of somebody who loves
me."
"Ah! you are going to consent," exclaimed Min-
nie, clasping his hand in both of hers. " I see in
your eyes that you relent of your cruelty."
"Yes! Minnie, I consent upon one condition.
But perhaps you will think it a very hard one."
" Tell me, tell me ! no condition will be too
hard."
" That you will become my wife before we leave."
She dropped the hand which she had held so
eagerly, 'and drew back a step, while the warm color
rushed up into cheeks and brow. She stood grave
and silent, with downcast eyes.
"Well, Minnie?"
266 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
There was a world of tenderness in the simple
words.
The young man pitied the beautiful embarrassment
of the child upon whom he had suddenly thrown
the responsibility of womanhood by asking her so
weighty a question.
He saw that feelings, deeper than ever before
awoke in her young spirit, gave a new dignity to
her manner, even while her lip and bosom trembled
with their power.
" Your wife ; Harry your wife ? it is so sudden."
" But not the less sweet, I hope, dear Minnie. I
should have given you a year to think of it. I
would not have been so cruel as to make you de-
cide so quickly, and without any mother to appeal
to, had you not insisted upon going with me, which
gave me hope that you loved me"
" But I did not mean to to "
"I know you didn't, Minnie. Your little head
never dreamed of such a thing. But I can not have
the privilege of taking care of you through so
many vicissitudes unless you give me the best of
rights. I am almost afraid to take charge of such a
sensitive, dainty little thing as Minnie ; yet I will
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 267
be very thoughtful and gentle with my wife ; my
fairy wife she shall be, if she will only say the
word."
The step which Minnie had receded was taken by
her companion, her waist was prisoned by his arm,
and as he drew her reluctant head, in its bright and
youthful beauty to his bosom, he peeped under the
drooping lashes to see if those eyes were not beam-
ing their silent consent.
A very, very happy man, was Harry Fletcher.
"I am glad now, that I am rich, little one," he
resumed, after a while, " that I may be able to take
just such care of my darling as she deserves. She
shall have every thing delicate and beautiful about
her gentle way. There can not be any thing too ex-
quisite for her. My mother will be so glad, and I
shall be so proud, and every one will love my little
wife, because she will love every one. Go now,
Minnie, and tell our good friend, Mrs. Smith, that
you are to be married to-morrow."
He kissed her and went out, leaving Minnie
Gray in complete bewilderment. She sat down to
compose her thoughts. Life was full of sunshine
and glory to her, but she could not gaze upon all its
268 FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION.
brightness at once ; and the slender hand in which
her eyes were hidden, seemed shielding her from too
much happiness. Much anxiety, and doubt, and
fear, all new and perplexing to her, was mingled
with her emotions ; it was a long time before she
sought Mrs. Smith ; and when she did, the good
woman, not particularly refined in her feelings, met
the burst of tears with which she followed her an-
nouncement, with
" Sakes alive ! what are you crying for, baby ?
do n't you love Mr. Fletcher ? he 's a nice man, and
it 's a famous match for a helpless orphan."
" Love him 1" said Minnie, while light leaped into
her happy eyes, " to be sure I do. But it is so un-
expected, Mrs. Smith ; oh, I wish I had a mother !"
" "Well, child, I do n't wonder. To be sure it 's
sudden, and I '11 help you all I can. Are vour
things packed?"
The next day Harry Fletcher called the orphan-
child his own ; he had adopted her, though not in
the way he had first proposed.
CHAPTER XVII.
It may not be be still, my heart, be still I
Thou knowest the green fields on the Sabbath shore
Where fountains spring, such depths as thine to fill,
And where this longing thirst is known no more.
There, on the bursting flowers will fall no blight ;
Music, like that we dream of, fills the air ;
There will be morn and glorious noon ; but night
With shadowy wing will never hover there ;
And on the ear
Will fall dear voices that grew silent here."
SARAH IKVING-, or Fletcher, as she called herself,
flat in her parlor alone one dreary afternoon. The
first snow of the season was whirling about in great
scattered flakes through the outside air. Her chin
was leaned into her hand in her old attitude when
thinking. She had been alone in her house two
days, and began to feel solitary. She did not know
why Eichard had not been to see her. Ever since
the recovery of his little boy he had been constantly
at her house. But she knew that there had been a
time when she was in danger of losing him entirely,
The physician, himself the owner of eight wives,
.although affected at the time by the scene between
17
)
270 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
Margaret and Kichard, over their supposed dying
boy, thought afterward that the tendency of such
things would be bad would tend to cast discredit
upon their creed, and make the wives, generally,
more discontented than they were. He waited a
week or two, until the child was in a fair way to get
well ; and then consulted with some of the leading
Mormons whether it would not be best to summon
the councilmen, and have Kichard Wilde reproved,
flnd warned that no heresies would be tolerated.
The consequences were that he was met with pub-
tic disapproval, and told that no slighting of his sec-
ond wife, or receding from his avowed principles
would be looked upon leniently. His fears were
excited. No man ever craved public influence and
personal popularity more than Kichard; and his
ambition urged him on, as it had done at first, to
trample down feeling in the race for fame. Besides,
he had an interview with Sarah. He had thought
to tell her that he could never have any thing more
to say to her ; he had come to her with some rem-
nants of his indignation against her, still left, but
she suspected his purpose, and rendered it impossi-
ble for him to fulfill it.
FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 271
There were tears for his absence and smiles for
his coming, and all the influence of magnificent
beauty. He had left a broken heart at home, and
he could not bring himself to break another here.
His situation was not an enviable one. Mar-
garet had forgiven him ; had permitted him to share
her attentions to her sick child ; but she had given
him no reason to think that she could ever again be-
come his happy and trusting wife. There was no
renewal of old tenderness. All was quiet, peace-
able but a weight was upon the air ; an invisible
pall hung over the household ; and when the child
grew well enough to play about, his laugh startled
the echoes, a strange, unaccustomed thing.
So, gradually, Richard began to go back to Sarah.
It did not surprise or grieve Margaret. She had no
hopes. The iron had entered her soul. She had
felt from the first the impossibility of renewing the
old state of things ; she gave up all from the first
awful moment when her husband had said
"I must take another wife."
Since his return to ^r, Sarah had felt but little
uneasiness. She gave herself up to the enjoyment
of the life she had chosen, eagerly drinking the
272 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
wine of the present, looking not back to the past or
forward to the future. Eichard was her own. The
pale woman whom she used to call her friend made no
claims upon him ; and she shut her heart to the
probability that as he had been faithless once he
might be twice that according to his and her be-
lief, he was at liberty to choose as many more com-
panions as he liked. She would allow no anxious
thoughts to intrude ; yet nevertheless, she seized
upon every passing moment with a deliridtfe eager-
ness of joy, which revealed unconsciously the hid-
den fear that such happiness must be fleeting. So
time sped away and as yet the bitter dregs lay un-
stirred in the bottom of the cup.
As she sat in her parlor, musing, that snowy af-
ternoon, her thoughts were not much more un-
clouded than the day. Why had Kichard remained
away from her so long ? She had tried her em-
broidery, and her guitar in a vain hope to dispel the
loneliness which was gathering over her. How ter-
rible it would be, if she should have to spend the
whole of the rest of her li|f in such solitude ! all
the long, weary years, and she but twenty -two !"
Perhaps she may have remembered another woman
OF FACTS STKANGER THAN FICTION. 273
only a year older than she, who had no prospect be-
fore her, except the one at which she now shuddered ;
for she cast away her work with a nervous motion,
and commenced walking up and down the room,
gazing out with a troubled look every time she
passed the window. "Was he coming? would the
storm keep him away ? The snow was light and
dry ; he had come to her when the weather was fai
worse than now. "Wearied with watching and
walking at last she sat down before the fire and fell
to thinking some things not too pleasant. Some-
times the company of the " thoughts of the heart"
is not the most desirable, when there are no other
companions, and the day is dreary.
As she sat thus, with her face resting in her hand,
the sound of coming steps startled her. So, he was
coming at last ! Her fears vanished instantly ; and
in their place arose a feminine impulse to treat the
laggard coldly, or, at least with seeming indifference
to his long delay. She did not spring to the door
as usual, to meet him, but sat still while the steps
ascended to the door ; id then some one knocked,
loud and quick, and eagerly, as it were.
" I do believe it is Richard ; he wants to surprise
18
274 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
me," she murmured to herself as she arose to admit
Mm.
Hastening to the door, and unclosing it, she stood
face to face with Harry Fletcher. By his side
nestled a little figure wrapped in hood and cloak.
A burning blush rushed over the face of Sarah ;
she stammered as she asked him to come in. Har-
ry extended his hand to her with considerable cor-
diality ; as happy a man as he could afford to be,
good friends with every one.
"Why! Miss Irving! I hardly expected to meet
you here. This is my wife ; Minnie, this is the Miss
Irving of whom you have heard me speak."
A little hand was stretched timidly out to her,
and a pair of soft blue eyes looked into the dark,
proud orbs which returned their gaze for an
instant.
" How is Margaret? can I see her this minute?
I am so impatient," continued Harry, hastening for-
ward into the parlor ; for he was too eager to meet
his sister to think of ceremony.
Sarah grew pale as she followed him into the
room. "Margaret does not live here. You have
made a mistake," she said.
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 275
" They told me that this was the residence of
Eichard Wilde."
11 So it is," was the brief reply.
Sarah's spirit had quailed for an instant; but
it was indomitable and rose to her assistance
again.
"How does that happen?" asked Harry, as a
strange fear made his voice tremble.
"He lives here, because this is my house and I
am his wife."
"Is Margaret dead?"
He sank into a chair as he asked the question,
and Minnie clasped his hand.
There was no reply for an instant.
" How did she die ? when ? how ?" he continued
faintly.
"Do not make yourself so miserable, Mr. Fletcher,"
said Sarah, coldly, though she would have given
worlds to have been away from those appealing
eyes, "your sister is very well. I suppose that you
are well enough acquainted with our customs to
know that we think i1j> right and honorable for a
man to have more than one wife."
Harry sprang to his feet more quickly than ha
276 MOKMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
had sat down. He towered up so threateningly that
the haughty woman involuntarily recoiled.
" I am tempted to strike you, Sarah Irving," he
muttered between his clenched teeth. "But you
are a woman and I spare you. It will be a woeful
day for Eichard Wilde, though, that brought me to
this accursed city. He is a man, or he wears the
shape of one, and my sister's cause shall be avenged.
Just so certainly as I can meet him, I will kill him.
Come away, Minnie, come out of the presence of
this concubine ! you shall not be sullied by breath-
ing the same air."
He strode out of the door, almost carrying his
wife with him ; and the next instant Sarah was
alone, and not any happier than before this in-
terruption.
The fierce pride of her nature was in arms.
Harry Fletcher, the man who used to love her, who
had been a suitor for her hand, whom she had de-
ceived and wronged, had spoken sneeringly of her
to her face, called her a concubine, and dragged his
wife oat of her presence as if she were too vile a
being for him to endure. She had no way of pun-
ishing him for his audacity. She had made a con-
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 277
cubine of herself; it was disgraceful in his eyes, if
not in the eyes of the community about her, and
her cheeks burned with shame and anger. Her
vanity had received another wound ; it was very
evident that her desertion, instead of breaking his
heart, had made him despise her, and that he really
loved that pure, lovely -looking young creature who
clung to him with such affection.
Fear, too, a wild fear ! did he not threaten to kill
Eichard, if he should find him? his blazing eyes
and determined manner assured her that he was a
dangerous man ; that Eichard had better take care
of himself. She shuddered at thought of their
meeting.
The snow came down faster, and the wind blew
cold ; but after a short deliberation with herself, she
put on her shawl and hood, and hurried down into
the city in search of the man she loved. If she
could see him before Harry met him, she could put
him on his guard. She would beg of him to keep
out of sight for the present, and she would arouse
the jealousy and hatred of the community against
this stranger who came into their midst to find fault
with them, and to put in peril the life of one of
278 MOEMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
their most esteemed citizens for carrying into prac-
tice the commands of the elders and prophets.
She knew that Salt Lake City would soon be too
hot to hold Harry Fletcher, if he dared to express
displeasure at his sister's fate.
In the mean time Harry hurried along forgetful
that his Minnie was tired and that her little feet had
to run to keep up with his huge stride. The first
man he met he stopped to inquire of him the way to
Mrs. Margaret Fletcher's. He had to ask again be-
fore he reached the house, for it was a considerable
distance from Sarah's.
(i Minnie," he said, as they stood on the step, " I
can hardly summon courage to meet my sister," and
he did look pale and faint.
His anger toward her husband had kept him
from thinking of the anguish of meeting her,
until he was at the door. A little girl answered
their summons, and asked them into the sitting-
room.
He had a glimpse of Margaret before she saw
him. But was that Margaret that almost phantom
form which arose to meet the visitors, with its wasted
cheek, its languid eye and feeble step ? was that the
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 279
stately and blooming woman who left her home in
New England but three years ago ?
"Margaret! Margaret!"
The cry came up unawares from Harry's heart to
his lips.
She gazed at him a moment, and then, answering
his cry, she sprang into his arms.
Her head dropped upon his shoulder ; he felt that
she had fainted, and when he laid her down upon
the lounge there was blood upon his coat and upon
her lips. Minnie took her head on her lap and her
husband brought water.
" Oh, Maggie, what have I done to you, with my
sudden coming ?" he cried in distress.
Presently she opened her eyes, and smiled at him.
" Do not be alarmed," she whispered presently,
" it is often so now-a-days. Any little excitement
brings it on ; it is not very J)ad this time ; I shall be
better quickly."
" Do not speak," said her brother. " Keep per-
fectly still, and when Minnie and I have taken off
our extra clothing and warmed ourselves we will
talk to you."
They laid her in an easy position upon the lounge,
280 MOEMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
where she remained quiet, her eyes half open, foi
lowing every motion of Harry's with a faint smile
in their mournful depths.
He took off Minnie's hood and wrappers, and
placed her by the fire, with her little feet on the fen-
der ; for the poor thing was quite chilled by the
storm ; and when the roses began to come back to
her cheeks, and she looked like her own pretty self
again, he said to the invalid :
"This is my wife, Margaret; Minnie you must
call her, when you get well enough to speak."
The young wife turned her fair, childish face to
smile upon Margaret, but her tears got the better of
her smile, and the next instant she had her soft cheek
pressed to the pale one of her new sister, and was
whispering in her ear
" I love you so much. I loved you before I saw
you, because you were Harry's sister, and now, oh,
so much more!"
Then, alarmed lest she should excite . the inva-
lid too much, she caressed her hand a moment, and
retreated to the fire.
A bright- eyed little boy about two years of age
now peeped into the room, and finally ventured to
OF FACETS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 281
come quite in. Harry had never heard that his sis-
ter had any children, but his heart told him at once
that the beautiful child was hers. He took him in
his arms, and asked him his name softly.
" Harry," said the little fellow.
" I named him for you," whispered Margaret.
"Harry, this is your uncle that I have told you so
much about."
" Yes, I am your uncle Harry," said the young
man with a trembling voice, " and I am going to be
very good to you. You will love me, won't you?"
And with the child in his arms, he hurried into
\he next room. He was unwilling to distress Mar-
garet by the sight of his agitation. That innocent
child, unconscious of the cloud about his future, un-
conscious of his mother's misery, touched a chord in
his soul which vibrated strong and loud. He walk-
ed back and forth through the dining-room, still
holding him, but the arms shook with which he held
him, and his tears fell like rain.
" I will be your father, little one," he said to the
wondering infant, "and Minnie shall be your
mother. You shall not know what you have lost,"
and then, as it began to cry from sympathy, he gave
282 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
it something to amuse it, and let it go, while lie sat
down and leaned his head upon the table in an ag-
ony of grief. He had ]oved Margaret so ; he had
been so proud of her beauty and virtue ; she had
been to him the ideal of true womanhood ; she was
his only sister ; this blow would fall so upon her
parents he was overwhelmed for a time by the
might of the storm. It was the return of his indig-
nation against Eichard which finally dried his tears,
The grief of a man like Harry Fletcher is terri-
ble to see ; and his anger is equally terrible. He
never knew before of what passion his nature was
capable. He felt that if Eichard Wilde was before
him, he should strangle him, crush him, and thrust
his lifeless body from his sight with fierce contempt.
He resolved that his life should atone for this in-
" He has killed my sister. I could inflict no
death upon him so lingering and torturing as this
which she is enduring," he muttered.
Love for his sister subdued him when no other
thing could have mastered his excitement.
"If she sees me in this furious plight, it will
agitate her too much : I must be calm before her ;
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 283
but my revenge is sure." He calmed himself as
far as possible and returned to the parlor. The
quick eye of Margaret, having the preternatural
sight which belongs often to the sensitive and nerv-
ously diseased, detected the resolution which he
thought he had put away from view. She beckoned
him to the sofa.
" I have forgiven all, and you must do the same,"
she murmured.
" I can not."
" If you love me, you will, Harry, for my sake.
I am so weak I can not bear any thing more, and if
you should "
She paused, but her pleading eyes said more than
her pleading voice.
" Well, for the present, Maggie, I promise you.
But it is hard."
She breathed a sigh of relief and gave him one
of her gentle smiles.
After tea, which her servant prepared for them,
Margaret was able to sit up in her easy chair, and
Lear the history of her brother since she parted
from him. It was the first she had ever learned of
the particulars of Sarah's desertion ; he touched
284 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
upon the matter briefly, and in a way which con-
vinced her that the wound to his heart had healed
without a scar, and that the fairy wife, as he called
her, who heard him without annoyance, relate this
story of his first love, was sure that she now held
as secure a place as if this first love had never ex-
isted.
"I have made a great fortune, Maggie," Harry
concluded, in his old-fashioned, hearty way. "I
hardly knew for what purpose at the time ; though
i it has all been made very clear to me since. First
came this helpless, dainty creature, who will have to
hav.e roses scattered under her feet through life and
roses have to be bought now-a-days with gold she
came and put in her plea for a portion."
" Nay, now " tried to interrupt Minnie, but he
kept on :
"And next here are you, and little Harry. Har-
ry did not take his name to have nothing with it.
I am his god-father and shall see that his name is
worth something to him.
" My darling sister, you shall go back with me to
our old New England home. If father and mother
want to Hve in the old house they shall do so ; and
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 285
we will have one close beside them ; otherwise we will
build a mansion large enough to hold us all ; and
we will see if we can not forget, in the midst of lux-
ury and tranquillity, these dark days. "We will be
happy yet, Maggie."
Her lip quivered.
" I feel that I might enjoy not happiness, but
peace perhaps, living with you and your sweet wife,
Harry, but I shall never see New England again.
My health is gone, and never to be restored. Your
kindness will have a chance to work for the good ot
my child, though ; I never can tell you how much
relief and joy your coming has been to me. Truly
God is good. I should have trusted him more firmly.
The thought that little Harry is to be removed out
of this polluted atmosphere, that he is to have the
benefits of a New England home and education, and
that he is to be guarded by your love, will make
my death-bed sweet and welcome : I have only lived
for him."
" You must live for those who love you now,
Maggie for your father and mother, for me, and
for your boy. We will stay with you here until the
pleasant spring weather. You must take this win-
18
286 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
ter to get well in. Far away from these hateful
associations, you must let memory close over them
like the grave ; they shall never be referred to ; and
in the society of those who love you so deeply, so
dearly, you will yet have much that is delightful."
" You are a good brother," she replied, with a
melancholy smile ; " but you have come too late. I
bore the stroke alone, and I had not strength to re-
sist the effects. Besides, however sheltered I might
be in the bosom of my family, I could not endure
to go back to my old associates under such circum-
stances."
He saw the pain which contracted her brow, and
avoided the subject for the rest of the evening. His
strange experiences in California life, made an in-
teresting topic, and he exerted himself to beguile
his sister from her sadness. She smiled at his
amusing adventures, and was interested in all, but
there was a heart-broken expression in her smile
which was more touching than her sadness.
Nevertheless she felt a tranquillity which had not
been hers for a long time. She was not so solitary,
so utterly desolate ; the house was not so much like
a deserted mansion as it had been. A feeling of
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 287
greater happiness than she had thought possible re-
turned to her at the thought that her child was pro-
vided for ; and despite the unusual fatigue she had
endured through the day, she slept that night more
undisturbed than she had for many weeks.
"When she awoke in the morning, it was not to
the silence and loneliness which usually greeted her.
Little Harry was half wild with pleasure to think
he had found an uncle who was so kind to him
The poor little fellow had been so lonely, with only
his sad mother for company, who did not play with
him as she had once done.
CHAPTER XVIII.
SEVEKAL weeks passed away. T,here was a great
change in Margaret's household. She had nothing
now to do but to lie upon the sofa, and be an inval-
id; for Minnie, with a spirit no one would have
dreamed her possessed of, had taken the charge of
the household matters upon herself. She wanted
Margaret, she said, to employ her time in getting
well enough to go with them upon the first bright
day of spring. There was an air of cheerfulness
and life about the house wherever her light footstep
trod, or her bird like voice sounded. She was like
sunshine to the shadowed heart of M the invalid ; she
brightened and warmed it ; but it had been withered
never to bloom again.
Despite their utmost efforts, Margaret faded day by
day. A distressing cough wore out her nights, and
FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 289
frequent bleeding at the lungs weakened her yet
more rapidly.
She told them that she was not now unhappy :
that her earthly hopes had been very suddenly and
ruthlessly torn from her, and that for a time she
could not be reconciled. She had gone to Christ in
s her greatest agony, and found that His precepts were
to love your enemies and do good to those who
despitefully use -you I If she could do a kind thing
for Eichard or Sarah she would do it ; but she
grieved for their willful selfishness ; she pitied them,
she forgave them ; she did not wish Harry to take
up her cause against the man who had once been
her husband.
Harry always talked soothingly to her; yet he
had very little doubt in his own mind, but that it
would be dangerous for Eichard to come in his way.
As long as his sister desired it so earnestly he would
refrain from seeking the recreant, but he could not
promise himself that his wrath would not boil over,
if they should chance to meet face to face. So far
he had seen nothing of him. Eichard had not
called at- the house ; and Harry had gone out but
little. The people were not disposed to regard him
290 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
with much favor, and he was sure that his feelings
for them were not those of the highest esteem.
One day, when the weather was warmer than
usual, the servant-girl was sent to walk with little
Harry, and came back without him.
" "Why, what have you done with my child ?"
asked Margaret. ^
" His father came and spoke to him, and coaxed
him away. He told me he would send him back
when he got tired of him."
Night came, but not the child. One, two, three
days, and Mr. Wilde did not yet seem tired of his
boy.
Margaret's anxiety was so great, that it added to
her fever and unrest very much.
" Can it be possible, Harry, that he will be so
cruel to me as to take my child away from me ?"
" Yery likely, Maggie. At least, I shall go and
see about it. You shall not be kept any longer in
suspense. You shall have little Harry in your
arms this night."
" Oh, do not be rash or harsh if you go, dear
brother. Kemember how long it has been since
Richard has seen the child, and that he can not
OF FACTS STKANGER THAN FICTION. 291
ODme here to visit him. As you are going to take
Mm away so soon, perhaps we are selfish about
wanting him back."
" Yes ! I will remember," was the bitter reply.
" I will remember how selfish you are to want your
boy, and how delicate his father must be about
coming here to see him."
About the middle of the afternoon Harry started
on his errand. He knocked at Sarah Irving's door,
and without waiting for any one to answer the sum-
mons, he opened it and walked in, just in time to
see Sarah pushing the child out into the back room,
while Eichard advanced to meet him.
" My sister Margaret sent me for her child," said
the intruder.
His voice was calm enough, but a suppressed fire
burned in his brave and threatening eye.
" Your sister Margaret can not have my child"
was the sneering answer. " I understand that it is
your intention, without my consent or approval, to
take him out of this country where I shall never
see him again. Now, I have a right to dispose of
my own children, and shall submit to no dictation.
Besides, my religion teaches me that this city is the
292 MORMON WIVES; A NARBATIVE
refuge, and will be the abiding-place of the Latter
Day Saints, and I am not willing to see my son
iamned by letting him out into the world."
" Your religion /" said Harry in a tone of incon-
ceivable scorn, " your religion teaches you that he
must remain in this hell upon earth. I came for the
boy ,, and Ilarri resolved to have him. You have
outraged the heart of his mother enough already.
Do not dare to provoke me by recalling it too viv-
idly to my memory ;" and he strode toward the
door through which he had seen the child dis-
appear.
Eichard placed himself before it with the wo"rds :
" There was no reason why the child need to have
been separated from his mother, if Margaret had
not played the fool. Go back and tell her that
when she comes to her senses, and rejects all un-
necessary advice from relatives, and does as the
other women of this country find it their pride and
duty- to do, she will have both her husband and
chjld, without any trouble."
" It was my sister who played the fool, was it?
well, I will play it over again."
Swift as thought Harry drew a revolver from his
OF FACTS STRANGEB THAN FICTION. 293
bosom, and fired upon his insulter. He was very
quick, but not more quick than the eye of love,
Sarah, who was standing near, with an impulse of
pure affection, which sanctified somewhat her reck-
less course, threw herself upon Kichard's bosom and
received the discharge in one of her lovely arms.
She did not scream, but sank down dizzy with the
pain and fright. The instant he saw that he had
wounded a woman, Harry was filled with regret.
He paid no more attention to the man, who did not
dare to lift her up, but stood quailing with fear of
another attack ; his own arms which he usually car-
ried, he had left in his bed-room not half-an-hour
before but rolling the sleeve up from the wound,
he examined it with the eye of a person who knew
something about surgery.
" That wound is not dangerous, thank Grod !" said
he. " Strange that a woman will risk her life for
such a puppy. Bind that up immediately, sir, and
go for a surgeon without delay."
Still holding his revolver pointed at Eichard, he
opened the door, and called little Harry to him, who
gladly came, and they retreated from the house
together. Eichard was obliged to take care of
294 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
Sarah, which gave him ample time to reach home
safely with his prize.
" This arm will never be beautiful again," mur-
mured Sarah, when her companion had stanched the
blood and revived her with some water. " But it
ought to be dear to you, Eichard, for it saved your
life. How glad I am that it could do such service."
That night a furious mob gathered around Mar-
garet's house. The news of the affray had flown
like wild-fire, with all the circumstances willfully
distorted by Eichard Wilde, who gave the impres*
sion that his wife Sarah had been coolly shot while
defending his child from being kidnapped.
" Hand out the dog ! he shall be hung this night I"
they shouted. " He is an enemy in the camp ! he
makes some of our wives discontented, and others
he shoots ! He shall meet with the same fate he
deserves."
The front and back doors were bolted, and they
resisted invasion for some time, so that the wretches
outside began to cry,
" Burn the house ! burn the house over his
head!"
And this they might have done, had not Eichard
OF FACTS STKANGEB THAN FICTION. 295
restrained them by cautioning them that his child
and wife would also fall victims to this plan.
At last, just as the front door was yielding, it
was opened, and Margaret confronted the crowd.
Her fragile figure, and ethereal face, showed spirit-
ually in the glare of their torches. Her calm, heav-
enly countenance, purified by the near approach of
death, awed them like that of an angel's.
" What would you do ?" she asked in a sweet
ringing voice ; " if you seek revenge, seek it upon
me, for it was I who sent my brother for my child.
Do you wonder that a mother should want her
child?"
" What has that to do with the shooting of Sarah
Irving ?" growled a savage voice.
She would have spoken again, but Harry pushed
her aside and faced his enemies ; his wife, though,
stood before him, and her delicate form was his
shield, , He held a revolver in each hand ; there
was nothing of the appearance of coward about
him, and when he put even his wife away, and stood
there undaunted, a murmur of indignant admiration
arose at the bravery they hated.
"Come on I" he cried, "I will sell my life at a
296 FACTS STKANGEB THAN FICTION.
high price. A dozen of your lives shall pay for
mine. Come on, the first who dare 1 Bat let me,
before I go further, redeem my memory from the
stain of cowardice which would rest upon it, should
it be thought that I willfully shot a woman. I did
not. It was Kichard Wilde, the craven, whom I
aimed at, and the woman threw herself between us.
He was not worthy of the sacrifice. I went to his
house to get for my sister her child. Look upon
her! does she look as if the few weeks she has yet to
stay in a world which has been too harsh for her,
need to be made more miserable by the robbery of
her child ? Go to. Let it not be said that you are
murderers that you came here to her threshhold
and killed this feeble woman by your violence. It is
not for myself I ask your mercy. I ask no favors.
I will take care of myself. If you think this scene
of terror and excitement, fit for the endurance of
this dying sister, continue it. For my part, I am
ready."
" We will withdraw," muttered the mob sullenly.
" We do not wish to harm Mrs. Wilde. But you,
sir ! if you show your face out of doors while you
stay here, you will rue it."
CHAPTER XIX.
Oh, there is a sweetness In heauty's close
Like the perfume scenting the withered rose
For a nameless charm around her plays,
And her eyes are kindled with hallowed rays ;
And a vail of spotless purity
Has mantled her cheek with its spotless dye,
Like a cloud whereon the queen of night
Has poured her softest, tenderest light.
PEBCIVAI*
PAYING no attention to the threats of the people,
Harry Fletcher did as he pleased about going
among them. Whenever there was any thing
wanted for the house, and whenever he and his wife
wished to go out for exercise, he did not hesitate to
show himself in their midst. The bravery of his
demeanor, and the knowledge that he went thor-
oughly armed, and that any attack upon him would
result in the loss of several lives, preserved him
from any thing beyond ill looks and muttered
words.
He took particular pains to inquire after Sarah.
Falsely as she had played the part of friend toward
298 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
bis sister, he was sorry that he had done her person-
al injury; and was glad to learn that her wound
was rapidly healing, with no more serious conse-
quences than a fever, and a few days' confinement to
her bed.
The excitement of that day and evening in which
she recovered her child, hastened still more the de-
cay of Margaret's health. She seldom sat up more
than two hours a day; every exertion, however
small, was followed by spitting of blood ; her flesh
grew more transparent, and her spirit shone through
it more luminously, week by week. Harry no
longer deceived himself with the thought that she
would ever be well ; still, he could not help hoping
that the warm spring would enable her to be re-
moved toward home. He could not endure the
thought of leaving even her grave in that detested
city ; he wanted her to die in the midst of the
friends who had loved her from childhood.
The first sunny days found her unable to leave
her bed. It was just a year since her sorrow came
upon her; and it may be that the breath of the
violets and the soft breezes of spring brought
back keener memories of that time, and wore
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 299
upon her ethereal frame, which could bear nothing
more.
Her preparations for death were made. Her
child she had given, with no mistrust of the noble
aifection of her brother, into his keeping. Gifts and
messages of love she prepared for her absent fam-
iiy-
One request she had to make of Harry, which
touched him deeply. She wanted him to promise
that her parents should never know the cause of
her death. She wished them to believe that she
died happy ; that their hearts might never be tried
by the knowledge of her sufferings, which it could
do them no good to know. That Harry had hei
boy might be accounted for by saying that it was
her wish that he should be taken East for the bene-
fits of education, which could not be given him so
fully in Utah.
If Kichard could have seen Margaret at this time,
the comparison would hardly have been in favor of
Sarah. One was gorgeously beautiful as an Indian
vase, with the fire and smoke of incense burned be-
fore a false god, flickering within ; the other was
like a snowy and slender vase of the most fragile
300 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
porcelain, in which some waning star was impris-
oned, waiting to escape to its native sky.
" There is a sweetness in woman's decay,
"When the light of beauty is fading away."
At last there came a day whose successor was not
to find Margaret ; her next morning was not of Time
but of Eternity.
She had lain speechless for many hours. Harry
knew that his earthly hopes for her were over, and
sat by her bedside with a despondent face. She un-
closed her eyes and whispered to him " Go for
Eichard and Sarah. I have a dying request to
make of them ; tell them I send in love, not in
anger."
Harry's proud spirit would have rebelled at this,
but he could not disobey those mute, solemn eyes,
which pleaded against any objection he had to
make.
He left Minnie to keep watch, and hurried out,
with a swelling heart, and choking sensation in his
throat, resolved to do the message himself, that no
accident should prevent its delivery.
Again he knocked at Sarah's door. She opened
it herself. If she had been a timid woman she
OF FACTS STRANGER. THAN FICTION. 301
might have started at sight of her visitor; as it
was, she stood silently waiting for what he had to
say.
" Margaret is dying," said the messenger, and the
words sounded hoarse from his lips. " She wishes
to see you and Richard, if you will come. She
says that she sends, not in anger, but in love she
has a request to make of you."
Sarah stood for a moment undecided.
" We will come," she then answered.
" There is no time to be lost," he said, as he hur-
ried away.
Sarah pressed her hand hard against her heart, as
if to keep it from bursting its tenement. That was
an awful announcement which had just been made
to her that moment she stood face to face with her
guilt.
She was not a woman to shrink from the ordeal
before her; she had been very selfish, but she
would not slight a dying woman's summons, be the
consequences what they might to herself.
She went back to her room.
"Richard, Margaret is dying, and has sent for
us."
19
#02 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
" How can we go ?" he questioned her in dismay.
" We must" was her brief reply, as she threw on
her bonnet and scarf. " Come, no shrinking now."
Fast and silently, they walked along together,
their troubled thoughts they kept to themselves, but
we may well guess they would hardly care to
clothe them in words.
Margaret had not spoken since she gave the mes-
sage to her brother, until they entered the room.
Again she unclosed her eyes, large and bright like
a spirit's, and asked Harry to raise her up and hold
her head upon his bosom. He sat upon the couch,
and supported her in an easy position. Did Kich-
ard feel that another occupied the place which
should have been his ?
Sarah, obeying the look of Margaret's eyes, stood
close beside her. She was pale and rigid, but her
glance met that of the dying woman earnestly ; she
was willing at that moment to make any atonement
required, or to do any thing which might be asked
of her. Some remnants of nobility were yet unde-
faced in her character.
" Do you love Eichard truly and only ?" asked
Margaret.
OF FACTS STRANGER .THAN FICTION. 303
Her voice had come back to her ; its tones were
sweet and solemn.
" I love him truly and only, and beyond all
earthly things," was the equally clear and solemn
reply.
" And you, Eichard, do you love Sarah truly
and only ?"
She put the question in the same form to him, for
she wished to believe the best of him.
" I love her truly," was the almost inaudible
reply.
A gleam of pain shot athwart Sarah's brow ;
what right had she to expect he would say he loved
her only ?
"I have no reproaches to heap upon either of
you," continued Margaret. " I have forgiven you
both all the injustice you ever did me ; I love you,
and would do what is best for both of you. I am
Sarah's friend, if she is not mine. Knowing from
my own case, all the unhappiness which must come
from such a belief as you have acted upon, and
trusting that Sarah loves as truly and faithfully as I
loved, and wishing to save her what I have suffered,
I would only ask you both to remain constant to
304 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
one another. "Will you join hands here before
me, and promise to remain true to each other, one
husband and one wife, so long as you both live ?"
Sarah looked up at Eichard eagerly, and half
held out her hand to him. He blushed and wav-
ered.
" Is it so great a thing to ask ?"
That spiritual glance penetrated his false, unstable
soul. He would have been glad to have been a
thousand miles away ; he tried to call to his aid
some of the sophistries of his religion, but they
showed so hollow in the clear light of that dying
presence, that he felt impelled to tell the whole truth
without apology of any kind.
" I would have done it, because you asked, Mar-
garet," he answered, " had it come sooner. But it
is too late. I was last week sealed to another
wife."
Sarah drew a gasping breath. It was news to her
as well as to the others. Margaret looked at her
pityingly.
" I am sorry I could not save you this," she
said.
Sarah bent over, and whispered something in her
OP FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 305
ear, which, no one else heard, kissed her cold fingers
twice or thrice, looked into her sympathizing eyes
with an agonized expression, and went out of the
room.
For a short time all was hushed as the sick
woman struggled for life, to fulfill the rest of her
desire; she conquered her exhaustion and spoke
again :
"You will not deny me this, at least. Our boy
I wish to give him to my brother to be brought
up away from these practices which you know I
do not think holy. Oh, let me have my dying
wish about him. It may be hard for you to part
from him but not more hard than for me. He
will be kindly cared for. Promise me that you
will make no resistance when Harry attempts to
take him with him. Promise me Eichard."
The child sat upon Minnie's lap, looking at the
swiftly altering countenance of his mother with
startled eyes. His father glanced at him; he was
a bright and noble-looking boy who might well
arouse a parent's pride. He did not like to give
him up. But the heart not faithful to its marital
affections can not have even the paternal instincts
20
306 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
very strongly developed ; and lie dared not refuse
the last request of the woman he had murdered
ay, murdered so his soul put the matter to him
then. These weak and broken accents had a power
too great for his will.
" If it must be so, Margaret, it must. Harry
shall have the child. Oh, Margaret forgive me," he
cried, with a sudden burst of emotion, sinking upon
his knees by the bed.
" I do forgive you, dear Eichard. But God for-
gives only those who repent. I have prayed for
you. My child bring me my child."
Weeping, Minnie held the warm and rosy cheek
of her boy to her chilly lips. She kissed him and
expired.
Harry laid her gently down, and Minnie folded
the hands above the broken heart which was now
at rest. Eichard kept his position a long time, with
his face concealed, in the drapery of the couch.
" Shall I go or stay," he asked Harry when he
arose.
" I have nothing to do with you," was the cold
answer. "It was my sister's wish that I should
have no trouble with you, and her wish is more
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 307
sacred with me than my own sense of right. In her
angelic forgiveness lies your safety. She shall not
be buried within the limits of this city, nor shall
any Mormon priest officiate or any Mormon cere-
mony desecrate her grave. If you wish to attend
her funeral, I shall not forbid you. It will take
place to-morrow."
Minnie, whose gentle and loving spirit, had bor-
rowed for the time, some of her husband's resent-
ment toward the people, would permit no hands but
her own to assist in adorning the beautiful corpse in
its last attire. She smoothed down the flannel
whose warm folds could impart no animation to the
breast beneath ; she arranged the brown curls down
either side of the face, as they had been worn in
life, and decked them with snow-drops and violets.
Harry went off toward the mountains and found
a sheltered nook, where early flowers were bloom-
ing, and the sunset light would fall. There the
whip-poor-will would trill his lonely dirge, night
after night ; there the eternal mountains would look
down benignantly ; there the roses would bloom in
June and July, and the brilliant leaves of autumn
would drift above the mound.
308 FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION.
The next day they brought her and laid her
down to her dreamless sleep. " Peace I peace 1"
murmured Harry over the grave, " thou hast found
it, sister, and we will leave thee to thy rest."
There was but Harry and Minnie, Eichard, and
one or two who had been kind to the dead, who
saw where she was laid.
A small gray stone was placed at her head upon
which had been hastily carved her name
MAKGAKET.
CHAPTER XX.
*I have sinned," she said ; " man is weak, God is dread,
But the weakest man dies with his spirit at ease,
Having poured such love-oil on the Saviour's feet
As I lavished on these 1"
MBS. BBOWNXKO.
"Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who have trespassed
against us."
THE brief preparations necessary before resuming
their journey were soon completed by Harry and
his wife. The keepsakes which Margaret had pre-
pared, and a few mementoes which she had be-
queathed to her child, with his little wardrobe, were
all they took from the house. It was in good or- .
der for Kichard Wilde to introduce a new wife into,
should he desire. They departed in company with
a band of returning Californians who had been re-
cruiting for a week or more in Salt Lake City.
The evening after their departure, Sarah went out
for a walk. She went alone just after sunset.
Kichard could not accompany her for he was going
310 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
to take Ms new wife over to her mother's to get her
clothing, etc., and bring them home. The three
had taken tea together Eichard, Sarah, and Har-
riet, the last comer. The house which Sarah had
built with her own money was to be the home of
one and all. She had met the new comer haughtily,
with a quiet, queenly assumption of superiority, but
pleasantly. The pride of her dead father, which
had descended to the daughter, instigated her to
conceal her feelings, if she had any upon the sub-
ject; and all the afternoon she had treated her
rival with the courtesy due to a stranger and visitor.
She walked out toward the mountains. It grew
dark but she could not bring herself to turn back ;
if she retraced her steps they would lead her back
to her home that home which she had erected un-
der the influence of a delirious, fanatical passion ;
and if she should go in, she would find the man
she loved enjoying the smiles of another woman,
not so beautiful, not so refined as herself.
No, she could not turn back just yet ! the moon
was at the full, and she hurried on through its
ghastly brightness, until suddenly she came to a
fresh-heaped mound, with the sods laid carefully
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 311
over it, and flowers strewn around the head-stone
gleamed in the pallid night with a name she knew
too well.
"It is Margaret's grave," she said.
She threw herself prone upon it and buried her
feverish face in the damp grass. It might have been
an hour in which she did not stir; her garments
grew wet with dew ; there was no sound except
now and then a convulsive sob.
" Oh, my God," she cried after a time, sitting up
and lifting a wild face to the moonlight, " my pun-
ishment is meet my repentance is bitter. Marga-
ret 1 Margaret 1 why did you forgive me ? why did
you, uponHhe death-bed where / placed you, make
a dying effort for the happiness of the one who
bligm^d yours ? you have indeed heaped coals of
fire upon my head. Great heaven ! what madness !
am I the creature who was once an innocent child,
who went hand in hand with Margaret to school,
who read out of the same book, who wore the same
colors, who grew up like a sister by her side?
What did she ever do all her life long but forgive
me, yield to my will, humor my fancies, love even
my faults ? and to reward her for this, I followed
312 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
her, and stole from her the husband, the father of
her child, gloried in her desolation, trampled out the
bloom from her life killed her! Ay, here she
lies in her narrow bed, senseless and cold her
heart will never ache again. I would give all the
years of this life, and the eternity of the next, had
I the power to undo my work to restore the
pulses to the heart which lies there a silent and
everlasting reproach. Its silence is more awful than
curses; I would that the dead might shriek me
some reproach to break the stillness.
"Margaret was so gentle she was so good I
misunderstood her : I thought she had but little af-
fection because the stream flowed deep and quiet ;
because it did not foam and dash, like the mountain
torrents of my spirit. As if the very nobility with
which she overlooked all my follies did not protfe a
capacity for more Christ-like, immeasurable love I
It was for me to say that she could live with half
the heart of her husband, to take away from her
her rights, because I weakly, wickedly, coveted
what was not mine.
"You are no true woman, Sarah Irving; you
have debased yourself below the level of your sex ;
FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 313
you are ashamed to face your own soul ashamed
to go back to the people from whence you came, and
you find it impossible to go forward with those you
have chosen. Oh, what can you do ?"
She pushed the damp hair back from her cheeks,
and gazed fixedly toward the city.
" They are sitting there, I know, in that room of
mine. Her cheek is upon his breast ; he is smiling
into her eyes. Fool that I have been! is it not
good enough for me ? Can I feel, with all this
misery of passion and despair, a tenth of the agony
which I ruthlessly heaped upon Margaret !
"Fondle your new possession, Kichard Wilde ! it
was I, with the eloquence upon which I prided my-
self, who won you to believe that lust was love
that infidelity was virtue, and constancy was the
weakness of the cold and stupid.
" It was easy for me, after I had tainted the sweet-
ness of womanhood, by yielding a belief to the phi-
losophy of Socialism, to take the other short step into
Mor monism. The difference is too little for a mind
which has received a downward impetus to stop at.
"Whether it be holier for a man to change his wife
with the caprice of passion, or to institute a harem
314 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
and have a dozen at the same time, is not much of
a question. Whether the doctrines of Stephen
Pearl Andrews be better than those of Brighara
Young it takes not long to decide. The soul ac-
knowledges no difference, unless it be in favor of
the latter. It was the first who led me on oh, ter-
rible consequences which have befallen me ! It is
so easy to blind those whom passion has already
made dizzy 1 It is not wonderful that their converts
are many. Why did not my dead mother come to
me in her shroud, and warn me that not thus with
miserable sophistries were the hearts of the happy
and pure women of her day corrupted that safety
was only to be found in the straight and narrow
path?
" Fondle your new mistress, Richard Wilde 1
make her ignobly happy for a week or month. The
lips which only you ought to have pressed are dust ;
the voice of love unprofaned is forever silent. /,
too, leave you, but not for the grave would to God
that it were ! I leave you to your ambitious
schemes ; your mockery of religion ; your unbridled
desires. You will be a leading man among base
men; you will fatten upon self-indulgence; your
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 315
conscience will grow easy and you will look upon
yourself with complacency. Even now you can
hide yourself from thoughts of your wife, buried
yesterday, in the arms of another woman ; and I
have the consolation of knowing that I aided in
bringing you down to this.
" I have been selfish, sinful, infatuated ; but if
suffering could expiate wrong-doing, I should come
out justified. I lay upon the bed of thorns which I
prepared for another. Did I not know, simpleton
that I was, that he would forsake me, as he had
done Margaret? Yes, I knew it, and yet I would
venture.
" What do you say to me, Margaret, out of your
lonely grave ?" she asked, listening as if a spirit
spoke. " Always you came to me with gentle mes-
sages, full of truth and love. I must redeem the
past. If I have broken one heart, I must bind up
many that are bruised and bleeding. If I have led
one soul astray, I must win back many to the right.
I must give up seeking for happiness by living for
myself alone, and go forth and labor in the great
cause of humanity. Thus you whisper to me,
friend Margaret, land I will obey you. In life I
316 MORMON WIVES; A NARRATIVE
always gave you pain, but in death I will obey you.
I will go back to the world, not proudly, but humbly,
seeking only to do good. Always, always, my
voice shall rise in defense of one love, constant
through life, and faithful in death one home one
father and mother for the children one joy on earth
one hope in heaven. Always my spirit shall burn
in defense of the purity of womanhood, against
these specious pleaders, who would make it a thing
of chance and change.
"I go; Margaret, farewell I I leave you to this
solitude. And yet it is not you who are here ; vio-
lets will grow out of your dust, but you are an
angel, set in heaven like a star, to shine upon my
future path."
She kissed the earth above Margaret, and hur-
ried away. After a long walk she reached the city.
Entering her house, she stole softly to her chamber.
As she expected, there was no one there. She took
from her bureau a small collection of valuables, and
a purse full of gold which she fastened securely in
her dress ; returned down the stairs, went to the
stable and saddled her pony, mounted him, and fled
OF FACTS STRANGER THAN FICTION. 317
away through the midnight and the moonlight,
leaving fortune and love behind.
At the close of the next day, the company with
whom Harry and his wife were journeying, as they
pitched their tents and cooked their suppers, were
surprised by a Woman riding into their midst.
Sarah's tough little steed had done her good service
in enabling her to overtake the travelers. Pale and
weary, she dismounted, but before resting she went
to Harry Fletcher.
" I wish to travel with this company until we
reach the States," she said. "I have left Utah for-
ever. A forlorn and unhappy woman, all I hope is
to find some peace in works of good to others, and
especially to my own sex. I have enough money
to pay my way ; and if you know how deeply
humiliated I feel, you would not refuse to allow me
to accompany you."
Harry looked upon the woman before him, her
beauty all bowed down before her repentance, pale,
sad-looking, making her request as meekly as a
child. A vision of her past magnificent pride and
loveliness swept before him the contrast touched
him deeply ; but still it might have been impossible
20
318 FACTS STKANGER THAN FICTION.
for Mm to have emulated the forgiveness of his
dead sister, had not Minnie, who stood regarding
both, held out her hand to Sarah :
"Margaret loved and forgave you; can we do
less?" she said. The tears which stood in her gen-
tle eyes melted all the pride and anger which might
have lingered in the hearts of the others.
So true it is that love which is like Christ's, un-
selfish, will soothe all the troubles, calm all the
resentments, purify all the passions of humanity,
and make brothers and sisters even of those who
have avenged one another.
APPENDIX.
APPENDIX.
WHATEVER relates to the actual condition of Mormonism
attracts attention, and deservedly; for now that Deseret has
applied for admission to the Union it becomes us to learn all
we can of the people and institutions with which we are to
consort. j
Of the population and the feeling of the people of Utah a
late letter-writer from them says :
"The Indians in the Territory are said to be upward of
twenty thousand, and the white population is usually estimated
at some fifty to eighty thousand. But let me here say, in all
candor, that this is believed by many to be a very low estimate.
The fact is, emigration has come flowing in from all parts for
several years, California, Australia, and the Pacific Isles con-
tributing no small share. The country bein^ healthy there
are but few deaths; and there is one peculiarity which will
soon have a great bearing on the population, viz., the utter
annihilation of l single blessedness' among this people. Every
body is conscience-bound to marry as soon as they are old
enough, and it is made a strict and conscientious duty, in the
singular system which prevails here, for every family to raise
all the children they can. If there was ever a country where
an old bachelor would feel ashamed, it is here. I speak from
experience ; and as to old maids, they are out of the question;
there is seldom, if ever, an unmarried female of twenty years
old to be found in the Territory.
"There is no mistake but what the Mormons, at present
rates, will ere long control several of the interior States and
21
322 APPENDIX.
Territories. There are three principal levers which constitute
Mormon power as a body politic, viz. : First, an unanimity of
action ; Second, their peculiar institution of marriage and mul-
tiplication ; Thirdly, the immense and well-concerted missionary
system, which wields an influence over the whole globe. You
Down Easters may laugh at them ; theorists may speculate on
Mormon dissoluteness, etc., but here they are a unit and the
spirit of union is increasing with them every year.
" For outward appearance' sake, and a decent respect for
liberal institutions, they will go through all the forms, and
apply in good earnest for an admission into the Union; but
their real sentiments are that they do not care a fig whether
they are admitted or not. They can not be but sensible that
their path is onward to self-government and eventual inde-
pendence, by whatever means this finale will be approached.
And they are wise enough to ' bide their time.' "
Another writer says : " There is not a State in the world
peopled by so heterogeneous a mass of human beings. There
are many hundred Danes in Utah, Englishmen of all degrees
of enlightenment and dialect, broad Yorkshire, Caernarvon
Welsh, Dumfries Scotch, peasantry from the valleys of Switzer-
land, and deluded chamois hunters from her mountain peaks.
There are Germans and Swedes, Sandwich Islanders, Hun-
garians and Poles ; in fact all Europe, save the Euss and Mos-
lem, are represented in this singularly peopled country."
A late English paper announcing the departure of emigrants
for Utah, says: "On Wednesday last an extraordinary scene
was witnessed at the New-street railway station. A fine ship,
the Enoch Train, having been chartered to convey a cargo
of Mormons to the United States, en route, to their settlement
in Utah Territory, three hundred men and women, boys and
girls, formed the contingent supplied by the Birmingham dis-
trict. They left by the half-past ten train. All seemed to
belong to the working classes, and the proportion of the sexes
was about equal. Many hundreds of their relatives and fellow-
saints assembled at the station to bid them farewell; and,
in spite of the efforts of an instrumental band to cheer the
APPENDIX. 823
spirits of the females, some very affecting scenes were wit-
nessed. There will be nine hundred on board."
The ]STew York Times, of a late date, announcing the arrival
of another ship load of emigrants, thus refers to them:
" The packet-ship Caravan, Captain Sands, arrived at this
port on Thursday evening, from Liverpool, and landed her
passengers at Castle Garden. They are four hundred and fifty-
four in number, and are Mormons. They came from England,
Wales, Scotland, Ireland, and Denmark. For the credit of
Denmark there are only two Danish families among them.
For the credit of Ireland there is only one Irishman.
" Our reporter saw these people, conversed with them, and
estimated them, intellectually and otherwise. They all belong
to the lower, almost to the lowest classes of society. The
Welsh peasant is notably clean these Welsh peasants were
dirty. Very ruddy are the complexions of the Welsh girls,
very wholesome their appearance, very staid and chaste their
manners. The Welsh damsels our reporter saw yesterday,
were neither ruddy, wholesome, nor staid. Further he will
not testify. Some of them, a few months hence, will perhaps
be added to Brigham Young's harem.
" Much has been said and written favorable to the European
converts to Mormonism that was little deserved. The Mor-
mon emigrants now at Castle Garden may be unfavorable
specimens of their class. We were assured, however, by their
leader, that they were considered not only respectable but
wealthy. They paid their own passage to America, which Mor-
mon converts seldom do wholly, even if they contribute in part
to their expenses. They were regarded by their own people
as rather aristocratic than otherwise. But what has been said
of the Welsh is also true of the English and Scotch Mormons
now at Castle Garden. Their countenances were imbruted
with ignorance and dirt not the material dirt of a sea voyage,
but the moral dirt of a life of imbecility and indolence. The
Apostles of Joe Smith and Brigham Young found them an
easy prey, although, as our. reporter was told, they were quite
above the average of Mormon respectability.
324 APPENDIX.
"Among the whole four hundred and fifty, there was
scarcely one face that showed that its possessor was greatly
elevated above the animal. Dissipation had done its work
with many. Most of the Englishmen had been evidently too
familiar with the gin palaces and beer shops of London and the
larger towns. The Scotchmen appeared to have drunk deep
of whisky, and drunk themselves out of employment. If they
paid their passages to this country, they must have had friends
to send them out, as many fathers dispatch their prodigal sons
to other lands, to get rid of them.
"We can not wonder how, with such intellects to work
upon, Brigham Young's influence and power should extend.
If Salt Lake City is wholly peopled by individuals of the aver-
age of intellect possessed by the newly-arrived emigrants, we
should, following the law of depreciation, expect that in a cen-
tury it would merely be a congregation of apes with tails."
From these items something may be gathered of the char-
acter of the population we are to deal with in Deseret. It is
safe to say that the same kind of record as the above would
answer for seven eighths of the people of that country, and,
doubtless, will answer for the hordes now en route for this
country, not only from Wales, and England and Scotland, but
also from Scandinavia, where, by the following item it will be
perceived they are strong both in effort and numbers :
"The Mormons have established a paper at Copenhagen,
called the Star of Scandinavia. In this it is 'stated that the
number of 'Latter Day Saints' in Denmark, Norway, and
Sweden, amounts to 2,692 persons, among them are twenty-one
elders, nineteen priests, fifteen teachers, and eleven deacons.
In Sweden there are two hundred and forty Mormons. In
Denmark 2,247, 1208 of whom are at Copenhagen."
If this is the character of the people, what can be the con-
dition of morals at Salt Lake City. A few items clipped from
late papers may serve to show. The following from the Salt
Lake City News may be considered authentic :
" There is just complaint of the wickedness which is creep-
ing into the brotherood of Saints. President Kimball, at the
APPENDIX. 325
Tabernacle, on the 24th of February, denounced it in the
strongest style, saying that he would try and slay the man who
would undertake to corrupt the people. He says ; I am op-
posed to corruption ; I wish every man to keep himself pure,
whether he is Jew, or Gentile, or Latter-Day Saint ; keep your-
selves pure. I do not allow my women to fondle with other
men, or to sit on their laps, and they must not suffer other men
to hug and kiss them ; if they do 1 will cast them off. Let my
wives alone, and let my daughters alone, except you have my per-
mission to pay them attention, and do as you wish to be done by.
I am not afraid, for I am my heavenly Father's friend, and am a
friend to all his sons and daughters, whether they make a profes
sion of religion or not, but they must not undertake to pollute
this people. I delight to have strangers come to my house, and
they shall have the privilege of visiting and associating with me,
and I associate with them on condition that they be like true gen-
tlemen."
Another newspaper paragraph, from a late letter, reads :
" Among the revolting features of Mormon institutions, that
which permits marriage between blood relations, is the worst.
He has met with numerous instances of men marrying both
mother and daughter. A bishop of one of the wards married six
wives, all sisters, and, moreover, his own nieces."
And to show still further the wretched and abject condition of
women, let us quote from a late number of the Deseret News, the
" Maxims for Mormon Wives :"
" 1st. Occupy yourself only with household affairs ; wait till
your husband confides to you those of higher importance, and do
not give your advice till he asks it.
" 2d. Never take upon yourself to be a censor of your hus-
band's morals, and do not read lectures to him. Let your preach-
ing be a good example, and practice virtue yourself to make him
in love with it.
" 3d. Command his attention by being always attentive to him ;
never exact anything, and you will attain much ; appear always
flattered by the little he does for you, which will excite him to
perform more.
326 APPENDIX.
" 4th. All men are vain ; never wound his vanity, not even in
the most trifling instances. A wife may have more sense than
her husband, but she should never seem to know it.
" 5th, Seem always to obtain information from him, especially
before company, though you may pass for a simpleton. Never
forget that a wife owes all her importance to that of her hus
band."
Another exposition says : " Let our daughters also obey the
ordinances of God, and receive and cultivate the gift of the Holy
Ghost, in every good and pure affection. Let them early under-
stand the true relationship they are destined to sustain to the
other sex. Let them be taught to respect them as brothers, wor-
thy of their confidence and affection worthy to become their
savioar and head, as Christ is the head of the church. Let them
be taught to respect and revere themselves, as holy vessels des-
tined to sustain and magnify the eternal and sacred relationship
of wife and mother ; to be the ornament and glory of man ; and
let them learn to respect themselves as sons of God ; and the
other sex as sisters daughters of the Highest, holy vessels, eter-
nal beings destined as companions and co-workers in the great
science of life. Let them.be taught to aspire, by every principle
of honor and integrity, to the patriarchal throne, as heads of fami-
lies and saviours of men."
This is the people these the institutions we are asked to ad-
mit to fellowship, and social and political equality : Are we pre-
Dared to accede to such a proposition ?
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whatever tends to awaken our sympathies towards others, is an individual
benefit as well as a common good."
SPARING TO SPEND ; OR, THE LOFTONS AND PINKERTONS
I2mo., cloth. Price $1.00.
The purpose of this volume is to exhibit the evils that flow from the too
common lack of prudence.
LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY C. G. EVANS.
HOME SCENES.
izmo. Cloth. Price $1.00.
This Book is designed to aid in the work of overcoming -what is evil and
elfish, that home lights may dispel home shadows.
THE OLD MAN'S BRIDE.
izmo. Cloth. Price $1.00.
This is a powerfully written Book, showing the folly of unequal marriages*
BIOGRAPHIES.
LIFE AND EXPLORATIONS OF DR. E. K. KANE,
And other Distinguished American Explorers. Including Ledyard,
Wilkes, Perry, &c. Containing narratives of their researches
and adventures in remote and interesting portions of the Globe.
By SAMUEL M. SMUCKER, LL.D. With a fine Mezzotint Por-
trait of Dr. Kane, in his Arctic Costume. Price $1.00.
THE LIFE AND TIMES OF ALEXANDER HAMILTON.
By S. M. SMUCKER, LL.D. Large izmo., with Portrait. Over
400 pages. Price $1.25.
THE LIFE AND TIMES OF THOMAS JEFFERSON.
By S. M. SMUCKER, LL.D., author of "Life and Reign of Nicho-
las I., Emperor of Russia," &c., &c. Large 1 2mo. of 400 pages.
Cloth. With fine Steel Portrait. Price $1.25.
THE LIFE AND REIGN OF NICHOLAS I.,
Emperor of Russia. With descriptions of Russian Society and
Government, and a full and complete History of the War in
the East. Also, Sketches of Schamyl, the Circassian, and other
Distinguished Characters. By S. M. SMUCKER, LL.D. Beautifully
Illustrated. Over 400 pages, large I2mo. Price $1.25.
THE PUBLIC AND PRIVATE LIFE OF DANIEL
WEBSTER.
By GEN. S. P. LYMAN. izmo., cloth. Price $1.00.
LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS.
THE MASTER SPIRIT OF THE AGE.
THE PUBLIC AND PRIVATE HISTORY OF NAPOLEON
THE THIRD. \
With Biographical Notices of his most Distinguished Ministers,
Generals and Favorites. By S. M. SMUCKER, LL.D. This in-
teresting and valuable work is embellished with splendid steel
plates, done by Sartain in his best style, including the Emperor,
the Empress, Queen Hortense, and the Countess Castiglione.
400 pages, I2mo. Price $1.25.
MEMOIRS OF ROBERT HOUDIN,
The celebrated French Conjuror. Translated from the French.
With a copious Index. By DR. R. SHELTON MACKENZIE. This
book is full of interesting and entertaining anecdotes of the great
Wizard, and gives descriptions of the manner of performing
many of his most curious tricks and transformations. I2mo.,
cloth. Price $1.00.
LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF DAVID CROCKETT.
Written by himself, with Notes and Additions. Splendidly illus-
trated with engravings, from original designs. By GEORGE G.
WHITE. I2mo., cloth. Price $1.00.
LIFE AND TIMES OF DANIEL BOONE.
Including an account of the Early Settlements of Kentucky. By
CECIL B. HARTLEY. With splendid illustrations, from original
drawings by George G. White. I2mo., cloth. Price $1.00.
LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF LEWIS WETZEL.
Together with Biographical Sketches of Simon Kenton, Benjamin
Logan, Samuel Brady, Isaac Shelby, and other distinguished
Warriors and Hunters of the West. By CECIL B. HARTLEY.
With splendid illustrations, from original drawings by George
G. White. I2mo., cloth. Price $1.00.
LIFE AND TIMES OF GENERAL FRANCIS MARION,
The Hero of the American Revolution ; giving full accounts of
his many perilous adventures and hair-breadth escapes amongst
the British and Tories in the Southern States, during the struggle
for liberty. By W. GILMORE SIMMS, izmo., cloth. $1.00.
6 LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS.
LIFE OF GENERAL SAMUEL HOUSTON,
The Hunter, Patriot, and Statesman of Texas. With nine illi
trations. izmo., cloth. Price $1.00.
LIVES OF GENERAL HENRY LEE AND GENERA
THOMAS SUMPTER.
Comprising a History of the War in the Southern Department
the United States. Illustrated, I2mo, cloth. $1.00.
DARING & HEROIC DEEDS OF AMERICAN WOME
Comprising Thrilling Examples of Courage, Fortitude, Devote
ness, and Self-Sacrifice, among the Pioneer Mothers of 1
Western Country. By JOHN FROST, LL.D. Price $1.00.
LIVES OF FEMALE MORMONS.
A Narrative of facts Stranger than Fiction. By METTA VICTOJ
FULLER, izmo., cloth. Price $1.00.
LIVES OF ILLUSTRIOUS WOMEN OF ALL AGES.
Containing the Empress Josephine, Lady Jane Gray, Beatr
Cenci, Joan of Arc, Anne Boleyn, Charlotte Corday, Zenob
&c., &c. Embellished with Fine Steel Portraits, izmo., clo
Price $1.00.
THE LIVES AND EXPLOITS OF THE MOST NOTI
BUCCANEERS & PIRATES OF ALL COUNTRIES.
Handsomely illustrated, i vol. Cloth. Price $1.00.
HIGHWAYMEN, ROBBERS AND BANDITTI OF A
COUNTRIES.
With Colored and other Engravings. Handsomely bound in (
volume, izmo., cloth. Price $1.00.
HEROES AND PATRIOTS OF THE SOUTH;
Comprising Lives of General Francis Marion, General Willi
Moultrie, General Andrew Pickens, and Governor Jc
Rutledge. By CECIL B. HARTLEY. Illustrated, izmo., clo
"Price $1.00.
BOOKS
PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS,
439 Chestnut St., Philadelphia.
T. S. ARTHUR'S WORKS.
The following Books are by T. S. ARTHUR, the well-known author, of whom
it has been said, "that dying, ho has not written a word he would wish to
erase." They are worthy of a place in every household.
ARTHUR'S SKETCHES OF LIFE AND CHARACTER.
An octavo volume of o^er 400 pages, beautifully Illustrated, and
bound in the best English muslin, gilt. Price $2.00.
LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF REAL LIFE.
With an Autobiography and Portrait of the Author. Over 500
pages, octavo, with fine tinted Engravings. Price $2.00.
TEN NIGHTS IN A BAR-ROOM, AND WHAT I SAW THERE.
This powerfully-written work, one of the BEST by its POPULAR
AUTHOR, has met with an immense sale. It is a large I2mo.,
illustrated with a beautiful Mezzotint Engraving, by Sartain;
printed on fine white paper, and bound in the best English
muslin, gilt back. Price, $1.00.
GOLDEN GRAINS FROM LIFE'S HARVEST-FIELD.
Bound in gilt back and sides, cloth, with a beautiful Mezzotint
engraving. I2mo. Price $1.00.
WHAT CAN WOMAN DO.
I2mo., with Mezzotint engraving. Price $1.00.
" Our purpose is to show, in a series of Life Pictures, what woman can do,
as well for good as for evil."
ANGEL OF THE HOUSEHOLD, AND OTHER TALES.
Cloth, i2mo., with Mezzotint engraving. Price $1.00.
LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS.
ARTHUR'S HOME LIBRARY.
[The following four volumes contain nearly 500 pages each, and are illus-
trated with fine Mezzotint engravings. Bound in the best manner, and
sold separately or in sets. They have been introduced into the District,
Sabbath School, and other Libraries, and are considered one of the best
series of the Author.]
THREE ERAS IN WOMAN'S LIFE.
Containing Maiden, Wife and Mother. Cloth, I zmo., with Mez-
zotint engraving. Price, $1.00.
" This, by many, is considered Mr. Arthur's best work."
TALES OF MARRIED LIFE.
Containing Lovers and Husbands, Sweethearts and Wives, and
Married and Single. Cloth, 1 2mo., with Mezzotint engraving.
Price $1.00.
"In this volume may be found some valuable hints for wives and hus-
bands, as well as for the young."
TALES OF REAL LIFE.
Containing Bell Martin, Pride and Principle, Mary Ellis, Family
Pride and Alice Melville. Cloth, izmo., with Mezzotint
engraving. Price $1,00.
" This volume gives the experience of real life by many who found not
their ideal."
THE MARTYR WIFE.
Containing Madeline, the Heiress, The Martyr Wife and Ruined
Gamester. Cloth, I2mo., with Mezzotint engraving. $1.00.
"Contains several sketches of thrilling interest."
THE ANGEL AND THE DEMON.
A Book of Startling Interest. A handsome izmo volume, $1.00.
"In this exciting story, Mr. Arthur has taken hold of the reader's attention
with a more than usually vigorous grasp, and keeps him absorbed to the end
ot tne volume.
THE WAY TO PROSPER,
AND OTHER TALES. Cloth, izmo., with engraving. Price $1.00.
TRUE RICHES; OR WEALTH WITHOUT WINGS,
AND OTHER TALES. Cloth, izmo., with Mezzotint engraving.
Price, $1.00.
LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. J
THE YOUNG LADY AT HOME.
A Series of Home Stories for American Women. I2mo. $1.00.
TRIALS AND CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER.
With 14 Spirited Illustrations. I2mo., cloth. Price $1.00.
The range of subjects in this book embrace the grave and instructive, as
well as the agreeable and amusing. No Lady reader familiar with the trials
and perplexities incident to Housekeeping, can fail to recognize many of her
own experiences, for every picture here presented has been drawn from life.
THE WITHERED HEART.
With fine Mezzotint Frontispiece, izmo., Cloth. Price $1.00.
This work has gone through several editions in England, although pub-
lished but a short time, and has had the most flattering notices from the
English Press.
STEPS TOWARD HEAVEN.
A Series of Lay Sermons for Converts in the Great Awakening.
I2mo., cloth. Price $1.00.
THE HAND BUT NOT THE HEART;
OR, LIFE TRIALS OF JESSIE LORING. I2mo., cloth. Price, 81.00.
THE GOOD TIME COMING.
Large I2mo., with fine Mezzotint Frontispiece. Price, 81.00.
LEAVES FROM THE BOOK OF HUMAN LIFE.
Large I2mo. With 30 illustrations and steel plate. Price $1.00.
"It includes some of the best humorous sketches of the author."
HEART HISTORIES AND LIFE PICTURES.
I2mo. Cloth. Price $1.00.
"In the preparation of this volume, we have endeavored to show, that
whatever tends to awaken our sympathies towards others, is an individual
benefit as well as a common good."
SPARING TO SPEND ; OR, THE LOFTONS AND PINKERTONS
I2mo., cloth. Price $1.00.
The purpose of this volume ia to exhibit the evils that flow from the too
common lack of prudence.
LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS.
HOME SCENES.
I2mo. Cloth. Price $1.00.
This Book is designed to aid in the work of overcoming what is evil and
selfish, that home lights may dispel home shadows.
THE OLD MAN'S BRIDE.
izmo. Cloth. Price $1.00.
This is a powerfully written Book, showing the folly of unequal marriages.
BIOGRAPHIES.
LIFE AND EXPLORATIONS OF DR. E. K. KANE,
And other Distinguished American Explorers. Including Ledyard,
Wilkes, Perry, &c. Containing narratives of their researches
and adventures in remote and interesting portions of the Globe.
By SAMUEL M. SMUCKER, LL.D. With a fine Mezzotint Por-
trait of Dr. Kane, in his Arctic Costume. Price $1.00.
THE LIFE AND TIMES OF ALEXANDER HAMILTON.
By S. M. SMUCKER, LL.D. Large I2mo., with Portrait. Over
400 pages. Price $1.25.
THE LIFE AND TIMES OF THOMAS JEFFERSON.
By S. M. SMUCK^R, LL.D., author of "Life and Reign of Nicho-
las I., Emperor of Russia," &c., &c. Large 1 2mo. of 400 pages.
Cloth. With fine Steel Portrait. Price $1.25.
THE LIFE AND REIGN OF NICHOLAS I.,
Emperor of Russia. With descriptions of Russian Society and
Government, and a full and complete History of the War in
the East. Also, Sketches of Schamyl, the Circassian, and other
Distinguished Characters. By S. M. SMUCKER, LL.D. Beautifully
Illustrated. Over 400 pages, large 1 2mo. Price $1.25.
THE PUBLIC AND PRIVATE LIFE OF DANIEL
WEBSTER.
By GEN. S. P. LYMAN. I2mo., cloth. Price $1.00.
LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G, G. EVANS.
THE MASTER SPIRIT OF THE AGE.
THE PUBLIC AND PRIVATE HISTORY OF NAPOLEON
THE THIRD.
With Biographical Notices of his most Distinguished Ministers,
Generals and Favorites. By S. M. SMUCKER, LL.D. This in-
teresting and valuable work is embellished with splendid steel
plates, done by Sartain in his best style, including the Emperor,
the Empress, Queen Hortense, and the Countess Castiglione.
400 pages, I2mo. Price $1.25.
MEMOIRS OF ROBERT HOUDIN,
The celebrated French Conjuror. Translated from the French.
With a copious Index. By DR. R. SHELTON MACKENZIE. This
book is full of interesting and entertaining anecdotes of the great
Wizard, and gives descriptions of the manner of performing
many of his most curious tricks and transformations., I2mo.,
cloth. Price $1.00.
LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF DAVID CROCKETT.
Written by himself, with Notes and Additions. Splendidly illus-
trated with engravings, from original designs. By GEORGE G.
WHITE. I2mo., cloth. Price $1.00.
LIFE AND TIMES OF DANIEL BOONE.
Including an account of the Early Settlements of Kentucky. By
CECIL B. HARTLEY. With splendid illustrations, from original
drawings by George G. White. I2mo., cloth. Price $1.00.
LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF LEWIS WETZEL.
Together with Biographical Sketches of Simon Kenton, Benjamin
Logan, Samuel Brady, Isaac Shelby, and other distinguished
Warriors and Hunters of the West. By CECIL B. HARTLEY.
With splendid illustrations, from original drawings by George
G. White. I2mo., cloth. Price $1.00.
LIFE AND TIMES OF GENERAL FRANCIS MARION,
The Hero of the American Revolution ; giving full accounts of
his many perilous adventures and hair-breadth escapes amongst
the British and Tories in the Southern States, during the struggle
for liberty. By W. GILMORE SIMMS. i2mo., cloth. $1.00.
6 LIST OF BOOKS/ PUBLISHED BY C. G. EVANS.
LIFE OF GENERAL SAMUEL HOUSTON,
The Hunter, Patriot, and Statesman of Texas. With nine illus-
trations, izmo., cloth. Price $1.00.
LIVES OF GENERAL HENRY LEE AND GENERAL
THOMAS SUMPTER.
Comprising a History of the War in the Southern Department of
the United States. Illustrated, I2mo, cloth. $l.oo.
DARING & HEROIC DEEDS OF AMERICAN WOMEN.
Comprising Thrilling Examples of Courage, Fortitude, Devoted-
ness, and Self-Sacrifice, among the Pioneer Mothers of the
Western Country. By JOHN FROST, LL.D. Price $1.00.
LIVES OF FEMALE MORMONS.
A Narrative of facts Stranger than Fiction. By METTA VICTORIA
FULLER. I2mo., cloth. Price $1.00. r '
LIVES OF ILLUSTRIOUS WOMEN OF ALL AGES.
Containing the Empress Josephine, Lady Jane Gray, Beatrice,
Cenci, Joan of Arc, Anne Boleyn, Charlotte Corday, Zenobia,
&c., &c. Embellished with Fine Steel Portraits, izmo., cloth.
Price $1.00.
THE LIVES AND EXPLOITS OF THE MOST NOTED
BUCCANEERS & PIRATES OF ALL COUNTRIES.
Handsomely illustrated. I vol. Cloth. Price $1.00.
HIGHWAYMEN, ROBBERS AND BANDITTI OF ALL
COUNTRIES.
With Colored and other Engravings. Handsomely bound in one
volume, izmo., cloth. Price $1.00.
HEROES AND PATRIOTS OF THE SOUTH;
Comprising Lives of General Francis Marion, General William
Moultrie, General Andrew Pickens, and Governor John
Rutledge. By CECIL B. HARTLEY. Illustrated, I2mo., cloth.
Price $1.00.
LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS.
THE PRINCE
OF THE
HOUSE OF DAVID;
OR,
THREE YEARS IN THE HOLY CITY.
BEING
A SERIES OF THE LETTERS OF ADINA, A JEWESS OF ALEXANDRIA, SUPPOSED
TO BE SOJOURNING IN JERUSALEM IN THE DAYS OF HEROD,
ADDRESSED TO HER FATHER, A WEALTHY JEW IN EGYPT,
AND RELATING, AS IF BY AN EYE-WITNESS,
ALL THE SCENES AND WONDERFUL INCIDENTS
IN THE
LIFE OF JESUS OF NAZARETH,
FROM HIS
..' Baptism in Jordan to Ms Crucifixion on Calvary.
NEW EDITION, CAREFULLY REVISED AND CORRECTED BY THE AUTHOR,
REV. J. H. INGRAHAM, LL.D.
Rector of Christ Church, and of St. Thomas 1 Hall, Holly Springs, Miss.
WITH FIVE SPLENDID ILLUSTRATIONS.
ONE LARGE izmo. VOLUME, CLOTH, $1.25.
THE SAME WORK IN GERMAN. One volume i2mo.,
cloth. PRICE $1.00
LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS.
THE PILLAR OF FIRE;
OR.
ISRAEL IN BONDAGE.
BEING AN ACCOUNT OF THE
WONDERFUL SCENES IN THE LIFE OF THE SON
OF PHARAOH'S DAUGHTER, (MOSES.)
TOGETHER. WITH
PICTURESQUE SKETCHES OF THE HEBREWS UNDER
THEIR TASK-MASTERS.
BY REV. J. H. INGRAHAM, LL.D.,
Author of the "Prince of the House of David."
PRICE, $1.25.
"THE PILLAR op FIRE," is a large I2mo. volume of 600 pages,
Illustrated, and contains an account of the wonderful scenes in
the life of the Son of Pharaoh's Daughter, (Moses,) from his youth
to the ascent of Sinai : comprising as by an eye-witness, his
Miracles before Pharaoh, Passage of the Red Sea, and the reception
of the Law on Mount Sinai, &c., &c.
LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS.
RECORDS OF THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR.
Containing the Military and Financial Correspondence of distin-
guished officers ; names of the officers and privates of regiments,
companies and corps, with the dates of their commissions and
enlistments. General orders of Washington, Lee, and Green ;
with a list of distinguished prisoners of war ; the time of their
capture, exchange, etc. ; to which is added the half-pay acts of
the Continental Congress ; the Revolutionary pension laws ; and
a list of the officers of the Continental army who acquired the
right to half-pay, commutation, and lands, &c. By T. W. SAP-
FELL. Large izmo., $1.25.
THE ROMANCE OF THE REVOLUTION.
Being a history of the personal adventures, romantic incidents and
exploits incidental to the War of Independence with tinted
illustrations. Large I2mo., $1.25.
THE QUEEN'S FATE.
A tale of the days of Herod. I2mo., cloth, with Steel Illustra-
tions. $1.00.
" A recital of events, of an awe-arousing period, in a familiar and interest-
ing manner."
"LIVING AND LOVING."
A collection of Sketches. By Miss VIRGINIA F. TOWNSEND.
Large I2mo., with fine steel portrait of the author. Bound in
cloth. Price ^i.oo.
We might say many things in favor of this delightful publication, but we
deem it unnecessary. Husbands should buy it for their wives : lovers should
buy it for their sweet-hearts : friends should buy it for their friends. Goctey's
Lady's Book.
WHILE IT WAS MORNING.
By VIRGINIA F. TOWNSEND, author of " Living and Loving."
I2mo., cloth. Price $1.00.
THE ANGEL VISITOR ; OR, VOICES OF THE HEART.
I2mo., cloth, with Mezzotint Engraving. Price $1.00.
" The mission of this volume is to aid in doing good to those in affliction."
IO LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS.
THE SPIRIT LAND.
I2mo., cloth, with Mezzotint Engraving. Price $1.00.
" These pages are submitted to the public with the counsel of the wisest
and best of all ages, that amid the wiley arts of the Adversary, we should cling
to the word of GOD, the Bible, as the only safe and infallible guide of Faith
and Practice."
THE MORNING StTAR ; OR, SYMBOLS OF CHRIST.
By RE\ WM. M. THAYER, author of " Hints for the Household,"
" Pastor's Holiday Gift,"&c., &c. izmo., cloth. Price $1.00.
" The symbolical parts of Scriptures are invested with peculiar attractions.
A familiar acquaintance with them can scarcely fail to increase respect and
love for the Bible."
SWEET HOME ; OR, FRIENDSHIP'S GOLDEN ALTAR.
By FRANCES C. PERCIVAL. Mezzotint Frontispiece, I2mo., cloth,
gilt back and centre. Price $1.00.
"The object of this book is to awaken the Memories of Home to remind
us of the old Scenes and old limes."
THE DESERTED FAMILY ;
OR, THE WANDERINGS OF AN OUTCAST. By PAUL CREYTON. 1 2mo.,
cloth. Price $1.00.
"An interesting story, which might exert a good influence in softening the
heart, warming the affections, and elevating the soul."
ANNA CLAYTON; OR, THE MOTHER'S TRIAL
A Tale of Real Life. 12 mo., cloth. Price $1.00.
" The principal characters in this tale are drawn from real life imagina-
tion cannot picture deeper shades of sadness, higher or more exquisite joys,
than Truth has woven for us, in the Mother's Trial."
" FASHIONABLE DISSIPATION."
By METTA V. FULLER. Mezzotint Frontispiece, 1 2mo., bound in
cloth, Price $i.op.
LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BT G. O. IVANS. II
"TO THE PURE ALL THINGS ARE PURE."
WOMAN AND HER DISEASES.
From the Cradle to the Grave ; adapted exclusively to her instruc-
tion in the Physiology of her system, and all the Diseases of her
Critical Periods. By EDWARD H. DIXON, M.D. 1 2mo. Price
$1.00.
' *
DR. LIVINGSTONE'S TRAVELS AND RESEARCHES
OF SIXTEEN YEARS IN THE WILDS OF SOUTH
AFRICA.
One volume, izmo., cloth, fine edition, printed upon superior
paper, with numerous illustrations. Price $1.25. Cheap edi-
tion, price $1.00.
This is a work of thrilling adventures and hair-breadth escapes among
savage beasts, and more savage men. Dr. Livingstone was alone, and unaid-
ed by any white man, traveling only with African attendants, among different
tribes and nations, all strange to him, and many of thorn hostile, and alto-
gether forming the most astonishing book of travels the world has ever
seen. All acknowledge it is the most readable book published.
ANDERSSON'S EXPLORATIONS AND DISCOVERIES.
Giving accounts of many Perilous Adventures, and Thrilling Inci-
dents, during Four Years' Wanderings in the Wilds of South
Western Africa. By C. J. ANDERSSON, LL.D., F.R.S. With
an Introductory Letter, by J. C. FREMONT. One volume, i2mo.,
cloth. With Numerous Illustrations, representing Sporting
Adventures, Subjects of Natural History, Devices for Destroy-
ing Wild Animals, etc. Price $1.25.
INDIA AND THE INDIAN MUTINY.
Comprising a Complete History of Hindoostan, from the earliest
times to the present day, with full particulars of the Recent
Mutiny in Indk. Illustrated with numerous engravings. By
HENRY FREDERICK MALCOM. This work has been gotten up
with great care, and may be relied on as Complete and Accu-
rate ; irteking one of the most Thrillingly Interesting books pub-
lished. It contains illustrations of all the great Battles and
Sieges, making a large I2mo., volume of about 450 pages.
Price $i.2>.
12 LIST QJ BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. ETAWS.
SEVEN YEARS IN THE WILDS OF SIBERIA,
A Narrative of Seven Years' Explorations and Adventures in
Oriental and Western Siberia, Mongolia, the Kir his Steppes,
Chinese Tartary, and Part of Central Asia. By THOMAS
WILLIAM ATKINSON. With numerous Illustrations. I2mo., cloth,
price $1.25.
SIX YEARS IN NORTHERN AND CENTRAL AFRICA.
Travels and Discoveries in North and Central Africa, being a
Journal of an Expedition undertaken under the auspices of
H. B. M.'s Government, in the years 1849-1855. By HENRY
BARTH, Ph. D., D.C.L., Fellow of the Royal Geographical and
Asiatic Societies, &c., &c. I2mo., cloth, price $1.25.
THREE VISITS TO MADAGASCAR
During'the years 1853, 1854, 1856, including a journey to the
Capital ; with notices of the Natural History of the Country
and of the present Civilization of the People, by the Rev. WM.
ELLIS, F.H.S., author of "Polynesian Researches." Illustrated
by engravings from photographs, &c. I2mo., cloth. $1.25.
CAPT. COOK'S VOYAGES ROUND THE WORLD.
One volume, I2mo., cloth. Price $1.00.
BOOK OF ANECDOTES AND BUDGET OF FUN.
Containing a collection of over One Thousand Laughable Sayings,
Rich Jokes, etc. I2mo., cloth, extra gilt back, $1.00.
"Nothing is so well calculated to preserve the healthful action of the
human system as a good hearty laugh."
BOOK OF PLAYS FOR HOME AMUSEMENT.
Being a collection of Original, Altered and well-selected Tragedies,
Comedies, Dramas, Farces, Burlesques, Charades, Comic Lec-
tures, etc. Carefully arranged and specially adapted for PRIVATE
REPRESENTATION, with full directions for Performance. By SILAS
S. STEELE, Dramatist. One volume, 1 2mo., cloth. Price $ i .00.
LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 13
A HISTORY OF ITALY,
AND THE WAR OF 1859.
Giving the causes of the War, with Biographical Sketches of Sov-
ereigns, Statesmen and Military Commanders; Descriptions and
Statistics of the Country ; with finely engraved Portraits of Louis
Napoleon, Emperor of France Frances Joseph, Emperor of
Austria ; Victor Emanuel, King of Sardinia, and Garribaldi, the
Champion of Italian Freedom. Together with the official ac-
counts of the Battles of Montebello, Palestro, Magenta, Maleg-
nano, Solferino, etc., etc., and Maps of Italy, Austria, and all
the adjacent Countries, by
MADAME JULIE DE MARGUERITTES.
With an introduction by Dr. R. SHELTON MACKENZIE, one volume,
I2mo., cloth, price $1.25.
From the New York Courier and Enquirer.
" This is an able, interesting and lively account of tlie "War and the circum-
stances connected with it. The author's residence in Europe has given her
facilities for preparing the volume which add much to its value.
" Not only does she give a description of Italy in general, but of each Sov-
ereignty, and State, showing the Extent, Resources, Power and Political sit-
uation of each. Throughout the volume are found Anecdotes, Recollections,
and even Ondits, which contribute to its interest."
THE BOOK OF POPULAR SONGS.
Being a compendium of the best Sentimental, Comic, Negro, Nation-
al, Patriotic, Military, Naval, Social, Convivial, and Pathetic
Ballads and Melodies, as sung by the most celebrated Opera
Singers, Negro Minstrels, and Comic Vocalists of the day.
One volume, izmo., cloth. Price $1.00.
THE AMERICAN PRACTICAL COOKERY BOOK;
Or, Housekeeping made easy, pleasant, and econmical in all its
departments. To which are added directions for setting out
Tables, and giving Entertainments. Directions for Jointing,
Trussing, and Carving, and many hundred new Receipts in
Cookery and Housekeeping. With 50 engravings. I2mo.,
cloth. Price $1.00.
14 UST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. IVAJfS.
A BUDGET OF ^
HUMOROUS POETRY,
COMPRISING
Specimens of the best and most Humorous Productions of the
popular American and Foreign Poetical Writers of the day.
By the author of the " BOOK OF ANECDOTES AND BUDGET OF
FUN." One volume, I2mo., cloth. Price $1.00.
From the Philadelphia North American.
"This collection includes specimens of the Humorous Writings of English,
and American authors, and the preference is given to contemporaries. The
compiler has aimed to produce a volume in which every piece should provoke
'a good hearty laugh.' In one thing he has certainly shown a wisdom which
might he imitated by compilers of more pretension. He does not claim that hig
work represents the ' entire humorous literature of the language,' but a col-
lection of poetical effusions, replete with wit and humor."
THE
The World in a Pocket Book.
BY
WILLIAM H. CRUMP.
NEW AND REVISED EDITION, BROUGHT DOWN TO
1860.
This work is a Compendium of Useful Knowledge and General
Reference, dedicated to the Manufacturers, Farmers, Merchants,
and Mechanics of the United States to all, in short, with whom
time is money and whose business avocations render the acqui-
sition of extensive and diversified information desirable, by the
shortest possible road. This volume, it is hoped, will be found
worthy of a place in every household in every family. It
may indeed be termed a library in itself. Large I2mo., $1.25.
LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EYANS. 15
THE
LADIES' HAND BOOK
OF
FANCY AND ORNAMENTAL
NEEDLE-WORK,
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FULL DIRECTIONS WITH PATTERNS
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Stitching, Patch Work, Frivolite,
etc., etc., etc.
ILLUSTRATED WITH 262 ENGRAVED PATTERNS,
TAKEN FROM ORIGINAL DESIGNS.
BY MISS FLORENCE HARTLEY.
ONE VOLUME, QUARTO CLOTH, PRICE $1.25.
1 6 LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS.
LECTURES for the PEOPLE
BY THE
REV. H. STOWELL BROWN,
Of the Myrtlt Street Baptist Ckaptl^ Liverpool^ England.
FIRST SERIES,
PUBLISHED UNDER A SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT WITH THE AUTHOR.
WITH A BIOGRAPHICAL INTRODUCTION BY
DE. R. SHELTON MACKENZIE.
WITH A SPLENDIDLY ENGRAVED STEEL PORTRAIT.
One Volume, 414 pages, izmo. Cloth. Price $l.oo.
CONTENTS OF
1 The Lord's Prayer.
2 The Golden Rule.
3 The Prodigal Son.
4 There's a good time coming.
5 Turning over a new leaf.
6 Taking care of Number One.
7 Penny Wise and Pound
Foolish.
8 Cleanliness is next to God-
liness.
9 A Friend in need is a Friend
Indeed.
10 Five Shillings and Costs.
1 1 Saturday Night.
12 There's nae Luck about the
House.
1 3 The road to Hell is paved
with good Intentions.
14 Poor Richard's Almanac.
1 5 Waste not, Want not.
1 6 Tell the Truth and Shame
the Devil.
1 7 The Seventh Commandment.
18-19 The Street.
20 Stop Thief.
21 The Devil's Meal is all Bran.
Mr. Brown's lectures fill an important place, for wmch we have no other
book. The style is clear, the spirit is kind, the reasoning careful, and the
argument conclusive. We are persuaded that this book will render moro
good than any book of sermons or lectures that have been published in this
19th century. Liverpool Mercury.
LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY C. G. EVANS.
LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF A PASTOR'S LIFE.
By S. H. ELLIOTT. One volume, I2mo., cloth. Price $1.00.
" This is a well-written, highly instructive hook. It is a story of the life-
teachings, and life-trials of a good man, whose great ai was to elevate,
morally and intellectually, his fellow-men. Like many of his nature and
temperament, some of his views were Utopian. But his successes and
failures, with the causes of these, are painted with a masterly hand. There
is unusual strength and vitality in this volume/'
THREE PER CENT. A MONTH;
OR, THE PERILS OF FAST LIVING. A Warning to Young Men.
By CHAS. BURDETT. One volume, I2mo., cloth. Price $1.00.
"The style of this book is direct and effective, particularly fitting tho
impression which such a story should make. It is a very spirited and in-
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and morals."
EVENINGS AT HOME;
OR, TALES FOR THE FIRESIDE. By JANE C. CAMPBELL. One
volume, izmo., cloth. Price $1.00.
" We know of no book in the whole range of modern fictitious literature
we would sooner select for a delightful and instructive companion."
RURAL LIFE;
OR, PROSE AND POETRY OF THE WOODS AND FIELDS. By HARRY
PENCILLER. One volume, cloth, I2mo. Price $1.00.
" Beautiful landscapes, family scenes and conversations, rural sketches of
woods and vales, of the beauties of verdant fields and fragrant flowers, of
the music of birds and running brooks, all described in an original and un-
studied manner, which cannot fail to delight every one whose character is
imbued with a love of nature."
JOYS AND SORROWS OF HOME;
AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. By ANNA LELAND. One volume, 1 2mo.,
cloth. Price $1.00
"This is one of the most beautiful domestic stories we have ever read,
intensely interesting, with a natural flow and easiness which leads the reader
imperceptibly on to the cloee, and then leaves a regret that the tala is done."
LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BiT G. G. EVANS,
BEAUTY OF WOMAN'S FAITH;
A TALE OF SOUTHERN LIFE. One volume, izmo., cloth. Price
$i oo.
" This volume contains the story of a French Emigrant, who first escaped
to England, and afterward settled on a plantation in Louisiana. It is charm-
ingly told, and the strength and endurance of woman's faith well illustrated."
THE ORPHAN BOY;
OR, LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF NORTHERN LIFE. By JEREMY LOUD.
One volume, izmo., cloth. Price $1.00.
"This is a work illustrating the passions and pleasures, the trials and tri-
umphs of common lifej it is well written and the interest is admirably sus-
tained."
THE ORPHAN GIRLS;
A TALE OF LIFE IN THE SOUTH. By JAMES S. PEACOCK, M.D.,
of Mississippi. One volume, I2mo., cloth. Price $1.00.
"The style is fluent and unforced, the description of character well limned,
and the pictures of scenery forcible and felicitous. There is a natural con-
veyance of incidents to the denouement, and the reader closes the volume with
an increased regard for the talent and spirit of the author."
NEW ENGLAND BOYS;
OR, THE THREE APPRENTICES. By A. L. STIMSON. One volume,
I2mo., Cloth. Price $i oo.
" This is a very agreeable book, written in a dashing independent style. Tho
incidents are numerous and striking, the characters life-like, and the plot
sufficiently captivating to enchain the reader's attention to the end of the
volume."
THE KING'S ADVOCATE;
OR, THE ADVENTURES OF A WITCH FINDER. One volume, 1 2mo.,
cloth. Price $1.00.
"This is a book so thoroughly excellent, so exalted in its character, so full
of exquisite pictures of society, and manifesting so much genius, skill, and
knowledge of human nature, that no one can possibly read it without admit-
ting it to be, in every way, a noble book. The story, too, is one of stirring
interest; and it either sweeps you along with its powerful spell, or beguiles
you with its tenderness, pathoa and geniality."
LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 1 9
SIBYL MONROE; OR, THE FORGER'S DAUGHTER.
By MARTHA RUSSELL. One volume, I2mo., cloth. Price $1.00.
" It is a spirited, charming story, full of adventure, friendship and love, with
characters nicely drawn and carefully discriminated. The clear style and
spirit with which the story is presented and the characters developed, will
attract a large constituency to the perusal."
THE OPEN BIBLE;
As shown in the History of Christianity, from the time of our
Saviour to the Present Day. By VINCENT W. MILLNER. With
a view of the latest developments of Rome's hostility to the
Bible, as exhibited in the Sandwich Islands, in Tuscany, in
Ireland, France, &c., and an expose of the absurdities of the
Immaculate Conception, and the Idolatrous Veneration of the
Virgin Mary. By REV. JOSEPH F. BERG, D. D., author of
"The Jesuits," "Church and State," &c., Sec. Illustrated with
numerous Engravings, izmo., cloth, gilt back. Price $1.00.
LIFE OF CHRIST AND HIS APOSTLES.
By the REV. JOHN FLEETWOOD. With a History of the Jews, from
the Earliest Period to the Present Time. Large I2mo., bound
in Cloth. Illustrated. Price $1.00.
Octavo edition, with steel engravings. Turkey Antique, $3.50.
BUNYAN'S PILGRIM'S PROGRESS.
Including, "Grace abounding to the Chief of Sinners." Large
1 2mo., 500 pages. Cloth. Beautifully Illustrated. Price$i.oo.
Octavo edition, with steel engravings. Turkey Antique, $3.50.
SCRIPTURE EMBLEMS AND ALLEGORIES.
Being a series of Emblematic Engravings, with explanations and
religious reflections, designed to illustrate Divine Truth. By
REV, W. HOLMES, izmo., cloth. Price $1.25.
HOME MEMORIES;
OR, SOCIAL HALF HOURS WITH THE HOUSEHOLD.
Octavo, 400 pages. Illustrated with fine steel plates. Cloth,
Price $2.00. Turkey Antique, $3.50.
2O LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS.
EVANS' POPULAR SPEAKER,
LYCEUM AND SCHOOL EXHIBITION DECLAIMER.
Comprising a Treatise on Elocution and Gesture, with Illustrations,
and a choice collection of pieces in Prose and Verse, and selec*
Dialogues, specially adapted for School and Lyceum Exhibitions,
and Private Representations. I2mo., cloth. Price $1.00.
PANORAMA OF THE OLD WORLD AND THE NEW;
Comprising a view of the present state of the Nations of the World,
their Names, Customs and Peculiarities, and their Political,
Moral, Social and Industrial Condition. Interspersed with
Historical Sketches and Anecdotes. By WILLIAM PINNOCK,
author of the Histories of England, Greece and Rome. Enlarged,
revised and embellished with several hundred Engravings,
including twenty-four finely colored Plates, from designs by
Croome, Devereux, and other distinguished artists. In one vol.
Octavo, over 600 pages, bound in embossed morocco, gilt back,
Price $2.75.
GREAT EVENTS IN MODERN HISTORY.
Comprising the most remarkable Discoveries, Conquests, Revolu-
tions, Great Battles and other Thrilling Incidents, chiefly in
Europe and America, from the commencement of the Sixteenth
Century to the Present Time. By JOHN FROST, LL.D. Embel-
lished with over 500 engravings, by Croome and other eminent
artists. With a Map of the World, 20 by 25 inches, with side
Maps of California, Oregon, Hungary, Austrian Dominions, &c.
Royal Octavo over 800 pages, bound in embossed morocco,
gilt back. Price $3.00.
HUNTING SCENES IN THE WILDS OF AFRICA.
Comprising the Thrilling Adventures of Cumming, Harris, and
other daring Hunters of Lions, Elephants, Giraffes, Buffaloes,
and other Animals. With Illustrations. I2mo., cloth. Gilt
back. Price $1.00.
*
. .
LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 21
THE BATTLE FIELDS OF THE REVOLUTION.
Comprising descriptions of the Different Battles, Sieges, and other
Events of the War of Independence. Interspersed with Char-
acteristic Anecdotes. Illustrated with numerous Engravings,
and a fine Mezzotint Frontispiece. By THOMAS Y. RHOADS.
Large izmo., cloth. Price $1.25.
PERILS AND PLEASURES OF A HUNTER'S LIFE.
With line colored plates. Large I2mo., cloth. Price $1.25.
From the table of contents we take the following as samples of
the style and interest of the work :
Baiting for an Alligator Morning among the Rocky Moun-
tains Encounter with Shoshonees A Grizzly Bear Fight
and terrible result Fire on the Mountains Narrow Escape
The Beaver Region Trapping Beaver A Journey and
Hunt through New Mexico Start for South America Hunt-
ing in the Forests of Brazil Hunting on the Pampas A Hunt-
ing Expedition into the interior of Africa Chase of the Rhinoc-
eros Chase of an Elephant The Roar of the Lion Herds of
Wild Elephants Lions attacked by Bechuanas Arrival in the
Region of the Tiger and the Elephant Our first Elephant Hunt
in India A Boa Constrictor A Tiger A Lion Terrible
Conflict Elephant Catching Hunting the Tiger with Ele-
phants Crossing the Pyrenees Encounter with a Bear A
Pigeon Hunt on the Ohio A Wild Hog Hunt in Texas
Hunting the Black-tailed Deer.
THRILLING ADVENTURES AMONG THE INDIANS.
By JOHN FROST, LL.D. Comprising the most remarkable Personal
Narratives of Events in the Early Indian Wars, as well as of
Incidents in the recent Indian Hostilities in Mexico and Texas.
Illustrated with over 300 engravings, from designs by W. Croome,
and other distinguished artists. It contains over 500 pages.
I2mo., cloth. Gilt back, $1.25.
PIONEER LIFE IN THE WEST.
Comprising the Adventures of Boone, Kenton, Brady, Clarke, the
Whetzels, and others, in their Fierce Encounters with the
Indians. With Illustrations, I2mo., cloth. Gilt back. Price
$1.00.
22 LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY O. C. EVANS.
McCULLOUGH'S TEXAN RANGERS.
The Scouting Expedition of McCullough's Texan Rangers, inclu-
ding Skirmishes with the Mexicans, and an accurate detail of
the Storming of Monterey, &c., with Anecdotes, Incidents and
Description of the Country, and Sketches of the lives of Hays,
McCullough and Walker. By S. C. REID, JR., of Louisiana, late
of the Texan Rangers. I2mo., cloth. Price $1.00.
THE DOOMED CHIEF.
OR, Two HUNDRED YEARS AGO. A Narrative of the Earliest
Border Warfare. By D. B. THOMPSON, author of " Gaut
Gurlcy," &c. izmo., cloth. $1.00.
HUNTING SPORTS IN THE WEST.
Containing Adventures of the most celebrated Hunters and Trap-
rs of the West. Illustrated wkhnew designs. 1 2mo. . cloth.
':: < ; <-
^ 'GAUT GURLEY;
OR, THE TRAPPERS OF UMBAGOG. A Tale of Border Life. By D.
B. THOMPSON, author of " The Rangers ; or, the Tory's Daugh-
ter," "Green Mountain Boys," &c. izmo., cloth. Price $i oo.
THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A SOUTHERN MATRON.
By MRS. CAROLINE GILMAN, of South Carolina, izmo., cloth.
Price $1.00.
"This volume is one of those books which are read by all classes at all
stages of life, with an interest which looses nothing by change or circum-
stances."
THE ENCHANTED BEAUTY.
AND OTHER TALES AND ESSAYS. By DR. WM. ELDER, izmo.,
cloth. Priced i. oo.
" This is ayolume of beautiful and cogent essays, virtuous in motive, simple
in expression, pertinent and admirable in logic, and glorious in conclusion
and climax."
THE CHILD'S FAIRY BOOK.
By SPENCER W. CONE. Containing a choice collection of beauti-
ful Fairy Tales. Illustrated with Ten Beautiful Engravings,
Splendidly Colored, izmo., cloth. Price $1.00.
BINDING SECT. APR 17 1973.
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