--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Sorghum, Samuel collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 4 number: 4 published: 1901-02 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: 'Samuel Sorghum, "A Shipwrecked Life: A “Mormon” Story," *Improvement Era* 4, no. 4 (February 1901): 261–265.' source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera0404unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera0404unse start_page: 261 end_page: 265 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1901-02) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera0404unse publication_year: 1901 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1901, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # A Shipwrecked Life: A “Mormon” Story — A SHIPWRECKED LIFE—A ^'MORMON'' STORY. BY SAMUEL SORGHUM. [Note to the Editor: "Mormon" stories are always in season. I observe that the magazines still publish them occasionally. Recognizing your enterprise and desire to keep up with the times, I send the following story of outrage and suffering for your use if desired. S. S.] Salt Lake City, Utah, June 15, 1899. My Dear Julia: It is now three days since we arrived in this the so-called "City of the Saints." The scenery is perfectly charming. The trees, which are everywhere, have donned their loveliest attire; the valley is carpeted with green. The mountains are sublime, and the sky is like that of Italy. What more lovely than a day in June in this the very garden-spot of — was going I And so sad to to say "of the Lord." reflect, that amidst so much natural beauty, only man is vile! Yes, we are in one of America's most interesting cities, the "Mormon" capital. Here are their temple and their tabernacle and here are found their chief men. Here, indeed, is the spot where blooms the upas tree of polygamy, from which go forth its poisonous vapors throughout the length and breadth of these inter-mountain regions. Aunt Susan and I were both very anxious to get acquainted with some polygamous family in order to see for ourselves, and not through the medium of lying hack-drivers, how this dreadful system actually worked. You know, I suppose, that it is now nearly ten years since the "Mormons" 'ceased celebrating polygamous mar- 262 IMPROVEMENT ERA. riages; notwithstanding this, however, the old polygamous families, in many instances, still maintain their former relations and the workings of the system are therefore still visible. Good fortune favored us, for this evening, the third of our stay, we strolled out into the less thickly-populated parts of the city, and in passing a double house of fairly fine appearance having two front doors, (meaning two wives) we observed a rather handsome but very sad-looking woman leaning on the post of the front gate. We walked slowly past the house, filled with curiosity, and Auntie said she felt certain there was a tragedy in the life of the woman. After walking a short distance. Auntie reached a conclusion, and said we would turn back and would find some excuse to speak to her. So we returned to the gate, and Aunt Susan inquired her way to the hotel. To this question, the woman replied in a voice full of sweetness but ineffably sad. We saw that the woman was not old, yet the lines were deepset in her forehead, her hair was gray, and the light of buoyancy and happiness had passed out of her large, expressive eyes. Aunt Susan ventured to remark that she seemed to be in poor health, to which the woman replied that her physical health was fairly good, but, were some ills worse than those alas! there of the flesh. (Oh, that I might efface from my memory the sadness of the story of wrong that followed! That such things have been permitted to grow and flourish under the flag of a civilized country, is enough to bring the blush of shame to our cheeks.) The woman's remark was the very cue that Auntie was hoping for, and she quickly rejoined, "Yes, the troubles of ^the mind are infinitely more dreadful than those of the body; but, if you will pardon me, I cannot but believe that through brooding or per- haps bodily weakness your little rill of troubles has become a flood, which now threatens to undermine your happiness." Auntie is shrewd, isn't she? "My little rill of troubles, you say, indeed, madam! Were the chief woes of our sex marshaled for inspection, which would be more overwhelming than love spurned and a happy home shipwrecked?" The good woman relapsed into a pathetic silence, not caring obviously to communicate her experiences to strangers. A SHIPWRECKED LIFE. 263 "Have you lived among the 'Mormons' long?" asked Aunt Susan, who was not to be discouraged from such a promising investigation. "Yes," was the reply. "I was married when quite young in the State of New York and immediately moved out here —that was more than twenty-five years ago. All was happiness and joy in our family until she appeared on the scene; since then the bark of matrimony has often been well-nigh wrecked upon the turbulent seas of domestic discord." "Poor soul!" exclaimed Auntie, moved almost to tears by womanly sympathy and the excitement of the chase, "then indeed, as I feared and expected —there is another woman claiming your husband's affections." "Alas, madam, what you say is too true," sighed the hopeless creature in front of us. Her misery was complete, and our feelings a mixture of pity and indignation — pity for the victim and indignation at the system. (I want you to tell your brother,Congressman Tom, for me, that he should not cease his noble opposition to 'Mormonism' until the unholy structure is pulled down and carted away like their once famous temple at Nauvoo. And I want you to sign that anti-Roberts petition for me in church, the one that is circulating in the Sabbath School, the other at the Christian Endeavor meeting and the one in Rutbier's drug store.) At this juncture, an ill-visaged but richly dressed woman came out of the farther door of the double house, accompanied by a man with a long beard, (every inch the typical "Mormon," as we see him pictured in the humorous papers.) They passed by us out of the gate and down the street; the woman was palpably embarrassed giving no word or sign of recognition to our friend, and the man muttered under his breath as he passed sullenly by that she need not expect him at supper. "That is your husband?" inquired Auntie v/ith bated breath. The answer was a nod accompanied with a look of scorn directed towards the retiring couple. After a few moments' pause, she said, taking a locket from her throat and passing it to Auntie, "These are the pictures when we were first married, of the man whose coarse and repellant features you have just seen, and of myself, now wrinkled and worn out." Within the locket were the faces of 264 IMPROVEMENT ERA. a handsome young man, with a frank and honest countenance, and of a young and beautiful girl with a round and happy face. Could it be possible that time had wrought such a change; those once attractive and manly features had become brutalized and that sweet, girlish face embittered! There was a wisp of rich brown hair in the locket which the poor creature said was cut from her own head in those once happy days. Auntie ventured to say that the woman was probably his favorite, and that she received not only the chief part of his affections but the chief part of his income as well. "Favorite! of course;" hissed the woman, betraying a depth of hatred that boded no good to the guilty couple, "the smiles which he was wont to lavish on me, and which, fool that I was, I believed to be so genuine and so permanent are now stored up and expended upon that coarse creature, who has not hesitated to secure her own happiness by stealing that of another. She basks in the sunshine of his favor, while I, lawful wife, must languish in bonds of despair. His income! You are right, it is precious little of it I now receive beyond what is essential to provide the bare necessaries of life. She flaunts her silks, while I am forced to content myself with challis. Madam," she exclaimed in a final outburst of passion, "you have heard a great deal about the unhappy homes of Utah, but nothing you have read is more bitter than my own experience." At this juncture, she excused herself, bidding us good evening and withdrawing into her desolate and unhappy dwelling. We retraced our steps sadly to the hotel, Auntie expressing her determination to follow up the adventure in the hope of doing something to alleviate the situation of the wronged woman. If anything more happens I will write you. It is now quite late. Good night. Affectionately, Lillian. next evening. My Dear Julia: I wrote the foregoing letter last evening after our interesting experiences. I must tell you the sequel. Repeating our little " " : > A SHIPWRECKED LIFE. 265 promenade this evening, we happily found our heroine once more at the gate. In a spirit of greatest consideration and tenderness, we approached her, and were invited into the house which we found to be comfortably though not luxuriously furnished. Then the following conversation occurred, started by Aunt Susan "How long have you been a 'Mormon?' "Me !" exclaimed the woman with surprise. "I have never been a 'Mormon.' "I beg your pardon humbly," said Auntie, somewhat flustrated, "I certainly understood you to say so. Well —your husband—how long has he belonged to that Church?" "My husband a 'Mormon!' Why madam, you are indeed a stranger; my husband is one of the most prominent 'Mormon'-eaters in this part of the city." Auntie was quite lifted off her intellectual feet by this time, and could only exclaim, "And the other woman, who is she?" "She is the accursed mistress of my lord and master." "And lives next door!" shouted Auntie, taking off and wiping her spectacles in sheer desperation. "Not at all," said our martyr, "that is my husband's sister, to whom I have not spoken for three years." "Good gracious! Good evening!!" said Aunt Susan, in high disgust that she had wasted so much honest sympathy. "I thought," exclaimed Auntie on her way to the hotel, "that this was a 'Mormon' outrage, but it turns out to be an utterly prosaic case, too common to deserve our sympathy or to awaken our interest." Of course, I shared in Auntie's disappointment at the grotesque ending to our romance, but I could not quite agree with her logic. On the contrary, dear Julia, the little incident has taught me that in our anxiety to relieve others of their moral beams, we should not be indifferent to our own social motes. As ever, Lillian.