Heroines of Mormondom

Is not this a grand lesson for our young Elders? How easy it is to fancy that our own wisdom, especially about our private affairs, is better than any one's else! But when the voice of God speaks through His servants and says, "Do thou so!" woe to the man who turns from that and works out his own will in direct opposition. Let this sink deep into your hearts, my young readers, and remember always, God knoweth best!

CHAPTER IV

Although William was annoyed at the step his wife had taken, he concluded to let matters go as they were. However, much to Mary's chagrin, he took a farm close by, and tried to make another start. Nothing seemed to go right.

On the 24th of July, 1850, Mary gave birth to another daughter, to whom they gave the name of Rachel. The next year another company of Elders came down from Utah under the leadership of Brother Stewart. These also made their stopping place, while in that part of the country, at the home of the Chittendens. But if the Elders met with little success during their former mission, this time seemed a complete failure. No one could be found to give them a moment's hearing. One Brother Doudle came up near Camden, and used every endeavor to gain a foot-hold. Instead of kindness he met with cruelty; and in place of bread they threw him a stone. For two days he traveled and could find neither a place to sit down, a crust to eat nor a thing to drink.

When he got back to the Chittendens, he walked wearily in, and Mary's daughter, Jane, bustled around to get him something to eat. "No," said he, "don't cook me a thing. I want nothing but a piece of bread and a drink of water."

She hastily set what he required before him, and after he had eaten he said, "Sister Jane, you shall receive the blessing for this. I have not broken my fast since I left your house until now. I have had to sleep out under the forest trees. I am now fully satisfied there is no place to be had to hold meeting. I thought as I was leaving the city, shall I shake the dust off my feet as a testimony against this people? No, no; I will leave it all in the hands of God!"

The bitter prejudice of people around Camden grew worse and worse. At last the word went out that all the missionaries were to return to Utah immediately. This was in 1857, when Johnson's army was advancing upon Utah.

Before leaving Camden, the Elders prophesied openly that trouble should fall heavily upon the people who had refused them even a hearing. From that time until the "Mormon" missionaries returned and opened the door of mercy, there was not one stalk of grain raised in the whole district of Camden, and people had been unable to obtain a living.

With what earnest prayers did Mary seek to persuade her husband to go along too! And the Elders counseled him to return with them. But no, he could not feel to go with his helpless family and have little or nothing to support them when he arrived in America. So the last Elder bade them good-by and turned away from their door. Alas! eighteen years passed away before they ever heard another Elder's voice.

William was like his wife, unable to read one word, and all that he knew of this gospel had been taught him orally by the missionaries. He was also very young in the faith, and had not learned the great lesson of obedience nor dreamed its mighty weight in this Church. For this reason God was merciful to him, and did not deprive him of the light of the gospel, but taught him the painful but necessary lesson through much and long tribulation. And his children, although scattered and living most of them in Australia, retain the love of the truth in their hearts.

After the Elders had been recalled, Mary commenced to feel a great brooding darkness settle down over her. In the day she could throw it off, but when night closed her labors and laid her at rest, the darkness would fold around her like a garment. She was anything but a nervous, imaginative woman, and this terrible darkness grew into something tangible to her husband as well as to herself. At last he listened to her and decided to once more sell out and get away.

Two more girls were born to Mary before leaving Camden vicinity. One, Caroline, was born May 10, 1858, the other, Louisa, was born June 25, 1860. Mary had then eleven girls, her two sons having died in infancy. The older girls were very much disappointed that neither of the last two were boys. Especially was this the case when Louisa was born; their chagrin being expressed so loudly that it reached their mother's ears. She was a trifle disappointed herself, but when she heard their comments she was really sad and cast down. The feeling could not be shaken off until the next day; when as she lay dozing, a voice plainly said to her: "You shall have a son, and he shall grow up and be a great comfort to you in your old age." As usual she related the circumstance to her husband and he fully believed in it. He thought he would try "sluicing" for gold in some of the mining camps. The process called "sluicing gold," or washing it, is as follows: A box about a foot wide and two feet long, is fitted with several little boards or slats, about an inch high, across the bottom. This is to make the water ripple over. Into this box the sand is shoveled, and the water washes away the dirt leaving tiny nuggets of gold in the bottom of the box. This is of course in the regions where gold is found plentifully. Rocks are broken up and shoveled in, and often are richer than the sand. But this "sluicing" process is a slow one, so much of the finer portions of gold being washed away. If quicksilver was used to gather the tiny shining metal, it would prove much more profitable, but quicksilver itself is expensive.

So William sold out, and they started up to a place called Lemon Flat in the early Spring of '61. All of a sudden severe rains set in; the country was flooded, and the soft soil became actually impassable. Insomuch so that the family were obliged to relinquish the idea of going to Lemon Flat and turned aside to go to another mining camp called Gunderoo.

While going to Gunderoo the day they reached the outskirts of the town, was a very tiresome one for all. Mary had a light, one-seated carriage, a great deal like the one horse delivery carts in Salt Lake City. She often got out and walked for exercise. In the latter part of the afternoon, the wagon, followed by the girls and their father, walking, pushed ahead to reach the summit of the hills overlooking Gunderoo, or the "gap" as it was called, there to pitch their tents and prepare supper.

Mary, walking near the cart, began to feel a curious weakness creep over her. No pain, only a weakness in every joint. Alarmed at the long absence of their mother, two of the oldest girls hurried back, and found her seated by the roadside unable to proceed another step. They assisted her to rise, and half carried her up the hill to the tents. She whispered to them to put her in bed in the cart where she always slept. They did so. But she grew weaker and weaker. She would faint entirely away, then slowly come back, and wonder feebly what was the matter, and why they all stood around so. Then faint away again, and so on all night. At last Jane remembered her mother had a little consecrated oil packed away, and she searched among the boxes till she found it. They administered to her then, and she revived some. But begged to be taken away from that place.

Her husband felt she might die if he did not comply with her wish, so they started immediately for Yass river. They were traveling along, when Mary's horse gave out. She was obliged then to wait for her husband to return, and get her. She felt much better, and thought she could get out and walk about a little. So she directed the young man who drove her cart to let down the shafts. She got out, but the moment she went to rest her feet on the ground, she fell to the earth. The young man assisted her into the cart again, and then for three months she never stood upon her feet. There was no pain whatever, only an extreme weakness.

While camping on the Yass river the next evening, Mary had a dream which when related sounds like the history of her life for the following twenty years; so true is it in every particular.

She dreamed that she saw herself and her family, traveling, struggling and trying to get a start again. Everything seemed to go against her husband. Sickness came, and she saw herself the only one able to be out of bed. Deadly sickness too, but she was promised that there should be no death. Things seemed to grow blacker and blacker. At last, starvation approached and she saw them all without a morsel of food to eat; everything sold for food, even their clothes. Then when the last remnant of property had been taken from them, the tide turned. She was told they should at last go to Goulburn, where they would break land, and prosperity should once more visit them, and that they should finally reach Zion. The dream was terrible in its reality. She awoke trembling and sobbing, and awaking her husband she told him she had been having a fearful dream.

"I would rather," she added, "have my head severed from my body this minute, than go through what I have dreamed this night."

"Well, wife," answered William, "let us hope it is nothing but a dream."

She related it to him, but he felt too confident in his own strength to believe such a dream as that. It gradually faded from Mary's mind as such things will do, but now and then some circumstance would recall it to her mind with all the vividness of reality.

While camping on the Yass, a stranger came to William and asked him for his daughter Maria, who was then only fourteen years old. William replied that Maria was nothing but a child, and he was an utter stranger, so he could not for a moment think of consenting. Three nights after this, the man stole the girl away, and when morning came and the father discovered the loss, he was almost frantic with grief. He was a most devoted and affectionate father, and he was fairly beside himself with his daughter's disappearance. He spent money like water. Advertised, went from place to place, searched and hired others to search with him, for the missing girl. It was of no use. She was never found.

While searching for her four of his horses wandered away, and only one ever returned. Then, finally giving up in despair, he hired horses and went to Yass city. Arriving there William obtained work for a man named Gallager, at putting up a barn.

They had been settled but a short time when the baby was prostrated with colonial fever. Mary did all she could, but the child grew worse. Four months went by and still there was no improvement. At last Mary persuaded her husband to get a doctor. The doctor came and told the mother there was one chance in a hundred of the baby's life. No signs of life seemed left in the little body, but he ordered her to put a strong mustard poultice over the stomach. "If it raises a blister," said he, "she will live. If not, she is dead."

Into Mary's mind there suddenly flashed her dream. "Sickness, but no death." Well, then, her baby should live.

A short time after the doctor's departure, Mrs. Gallager, a neighbor, came into the tent, and said, "Mrs. Chittenden, let me hold the child."

"No, Mrs. Gallager, thank you, I would rather hold her."

The woman bustled about and got a tea-kettle of water upon the stove.

"What are you doing," asked Mary.

"Getting a bit of hot water. The child is dead, so we will want some water hot."

"She will not die, Mrs. Gallager. She is going to live."

"Why, woman, she is dead now! Her finger nails are black!"

"No, she is not dead," persisted the mother. Who knows the great power and faith of a mother?

Within a few hours the child's breathing became audible. Her recovery was very slow. And while she still lay weak and ill, William was stricken down by the same complaint. He grew rapidly worse. He too lay ill for several months. He was in a very critical condition, but whenever able to speak he would tell Mary not to bring a doctor, for he should recover without one. The turn for the better came at last, and as soon as he was able to get about a little, they determined to go to Lemon Flat. Their first idea in going to Lemon Flat had been to homestead, or "free select" land, as it is called in Australia. However, they were far too poor now to do this, so William got odd jobs to do. He scraped all he could together, and bought a horse for fifteen pounds. But shortly afterwards, he heard of one of his lost animals about eighteen miles up the country, so he made a trip up to find the animal. Arriving at the place, he heard that a Chinaman had just gone to another camp, on the horse. That night he tethered his horse out, and next morning at daybreak went out as usual for him, and behold, he, too, had disappeared, not leaving a track of a hoof to guide anyone in a search for him. So William was at last obliged to trudge wearily home, eighteen miles, carrying his saddle on his back.

And thus one year dragged heavily by. While here Jane was married to John Carter, and Ellen to a Grecian man named Nicolas Carco. Also, just as they were leaving Lemon Flat, Eliza married a Mr. Griffin.

Now they determined to go once more to Gunderoo to try what could be done there. The reason why William wished to go to Gunderoo was, that no matter what came or went, wages could be made by a man in "sluicing gold." Now the family were almost destitute. After their arrival in Lemon, and for months, most of the children lay sick with the colonial fever.

CHAPTER V

Between three or four years had passed since they left Camden (over eight years since the last missionary left Australia), and the Chittendens were much poorer than they were when they left.

For many years Mary had been in the habit of going about to her neighbors, nursing them during confinement. This was a necessity of the country, one woman going to another, as there were no regular nurses to be had. She became acquainted in her labors with a Doctor Haley, the best physician in Goulburn. He always, after the first time when she nursed under him, sent for her. This practice put many an odd pound into her pocket. Her husband was far from idle, however. With his disposition he could never be so. He took charge of the estate of a gentleman named Massy, who was absent in Ireland for eighteen months on business.

As soon as he was released from this situation, where he had earned some money and a good portion of grain, he rented a farm. With anxious hope and honest labor he seeded down twenty acres with the grain he had on hand.

He who sendeth the rains, withholdeth them at His pleasure! For two years there was a complete drouth visited the country. William walked over his field and could not, at the end of the season, pluck one single armful of grain.

While living in this place the promised son was born to Mary, and once again her prophetic dream was realized. He was born May 28, 1865, and William named him Hyrum. When the baby was two years old, little Alice came home from school, and said she felt very sick. As long as there was a second penny in the house, no matter where they were, or what their circumstances, these good parents had kept their children at school. Without education themselves, no effort was spared to give their children the great blessing they had so missed.

Alice came home, quite sick at her stomach, and her mother felt alarmed at once, for her children were regularly and simply fed, and when anything of the kind happened to them she knew it was of an uncommon and serious nature.

Jane had returned to her mother's house, while her husband was up the country on a mining expedition. She had a young baby eleven months old.

When the doctor came next day he pronounced Alice's case one of the most violent scarlet fever. Next day Jane and Rachel came down, and the next day Louisa and Caroline fell ill with the dreadful disease. Jane had the fever so violently that Mary was obliged to wean the baby. Everyone in the family was now ill but herself, and she with a baby two weeks old. For eleven long weeks the anxious mother never had her clothes off, but to change them. The disease was of such a violent type that not one human being had courage or had humanity enough to enter the door. Alone and utterly unaided she went from one bedside to another administering food and medicine. The physician was the only one who ever visited her, and at the times when he came (twice a day) to attend to them, she would sit down long enough to take up her infant and give it the breast.

Three months of sickness, toil and suffering, then the fever spent itself, and Mary could begin to realize their condition financially. Something must be done, for funds were very, very low.

There was a sudden excitement about this time at a place called Mack's Reef, which was three miles from Gunderoo. Gold was found in quartz, and was very rich indeed, at this new camp. William decided to go. So investing their last cent to purchase a simple crushing-mill, and to take themselves out, the Chittendens went to Mack's Reef.

Misfortune was too well acquainted with them now to be driven away, so she curled herself up in the crushing-mill, and behold it failed to do its work. It lost both the gold and the quicksilver.

Matters were now getting desperate. Food was wanted. Strain and economize as she might, Mary could not make things hold out much longer. The pennies followed the shillings, until when the last half-penny had to be taken for flour, William looked at Mary and said, "Mary, what are we coming to? Must our children starve?"

"No, William, please God! But do you remember my dream? You may not believe it, but I know it was a true dream. Oh, William, why did we not go to Zion when we were told? Surely our sufferings could not be more than they are here. Here, take these clothes, they are things that I can spare; you will have to sell them for bread."

And so it went. Garment followed garment, and yet there seemed no chance of earning a penny. Finally, there were no more clothes; everything was sold.

Then William took his gun, and went to the woods. But after a very short time that, too, failed and they were starving.

That night, when the little children were put hungry to bed, William walked the floor in the agony of his mind. "My God!" groaned the wretched man, "must my children starve before my very eyes? In my pride I fancied my family would be better in my hands than in the hands of their Almighty Father! Oh, that I had listened to counsel! Now my family are fast leaving my roof, and we that are left are starving. Starving in a land of plenty!"

God listened to the prayers of His humbled son, and he was enabled to get a little something to eat. But the lesson was not over yet.

Mary had obtained a situation as nurse and this helped them. William thought he would go up to Goulburn, a large inland town, where he felt sure he would find some employment. Accordingly he left the family with Mary, but of course in very wretched circumstances. It was the best that he could do, so Mary was satisfied to be left.

The trip to Goulburn was made in the old spring cart, which had been left of the wreck of their comfortable traveling outfit. The horse, which William had just found previous to starting, was one of the four he had lost on the Yass river. The poor thing had been so abused that it was almost worthless. In fact, it had no money value, for in that country where good stock was comparatively cheap he had tried again and again before leaving Mack's Reef to sell the horse and the cart, or either alone, in order to get flour for his starving family, but no purchaser could be found.

So he went up to Goulburn and took odd jobs as he could get them. When he had been gone some few months, a company of prospecters brought in a new machine to crush the quartz. This fanned the dead embers of hope in every one's breast, and even Mary thought if she could get William to come down and try his quartz in this new mill, they would succeed at last.

But how to get word to him? He was at Goulburn, eighteen miles away. There was no mail, and she had not a vestige of anything to pay for sending word to him. She was very weak too from lack of food. But every one around her was so confident of the grand success about to be made, that she resolved to try to walk up to Goulburn. Accordingly, she set out leaving the baby at home with the girls, and walked feebly towards Goulburn. She was about half-way there when she came to a river. This was forded by teams, but across it had been thrown a plank, and a poor one it was, too. Mary looked at the foaming water, and then at the rotten plank, and felt it would be an impossibility almost to go across. Still, she must get over, so she started; but she had only got a little way out before her head began to reel, she was weak and faint, and about to fall, when she had sense remaining to lay flat down on the plank, and wait for strength. As she prayed for strength and help she heard a horse's hoofs behind her, and a gentleman on horseback dashed into the stream. He rode up to her and said,

"Madam, permit me to help you. Let me take your hand and I will ride close by the board, and thus get you across all right."

"Oh sir, you are very kind," answered Mary as she arose thanking God that He had heard her prayer.

"Where are you going, madam? Pardon me, I do not ask from idle curiosity."

"To Goulburn, sir to my husband."

"I was wondering as I came along, to see a woman on this lonely road. You surely do not expect to reach Goulburn to-night?"

"I thought sir, I would go as far as I could, then lie down and rest until I could go further."

"Well my poor woman, good-by! and success attend you on your journey."

"Many thanks, kind sir, may God reward your kind act." And so he rode on.

Mary went on some distance, and began to feel that she could go no farther. Suddenly she saw a woman approaching her. Wondering, the two women at last met, and the stranger said to Mary,

"Are you the woman a gentleman on horseback assisted across the river?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Then you are to come with me. He has paid us for your supper and lodging to-night. Also, he paid me to come out and meet you and show you the way."

"Thank God! I am almost worn out. What was the gentleman's name, please?"

"That I can't tell. But here's our house. Come, get your supper, it is waiting."

And thus was her humble prayer answered, and a friend raised up to her in her sore need.

The next day Mary reached Goulburn, and she and her husband returned the following day in the cart, to Mack's Reef. But after reaching the Reef, William found it would require quite a sum of money to do anything with his quartz, so at last abandoning everything, he left the Reef in disgust. The poor old horse died shortly after that, and thus they only had the cart remaining. The harvest time was approaching, and William had the rent to pay on the farm he had taken, and which had failed so dismally. So he went to the owner and offered to harvest out the amount. The offer was accepted, and he went harvesting the remainder of the season.

Meantime, Mary had been sent for, to nurse a lady who lived a few miles out from Gunderoo. So, not liking to lose so good an opportunity of making a bit of money, she weaned her ten month's old baby, and left him at home with the girls. She was engaged for a month, receiving a pound a week, about twenty dollars a month, for her services.

When she returned, she found her husband at home. "You know, William, I told you my dream would surely be fulfilled. Are you not willing to admit that so far it has come true every word?"

"Well yes, Mary, but what then?"

"Then, in my dream we were to lose everything before the turn would come, and we should commence to prosper. We've nothing left now but the spring cart. Give that, as it is too poor to sell, to Isaac Norris. Then let us go to Goulburn, and once more try farming. You know we must break land there."

"Thou art like a woman. If we part with the cart, how, pray, shall we get to Goulburn." "Why, William, have I not brought home four pounds? That will move us to Goulburn. Come husband, let us get away from here." At length William consented; the spring cart was given to their son-in-law, Isaac Norris, and the whole family moved up to Goulburn. Their daughter Alice was soon after married to a Mr. Larkum, and had one child named Lavinia by him. The girl was treated very badly, and at last gave the child to her mother to raise. Mary has never since been separated from this child, but has reared her as her own. Four or five years passed away, William farming and Mary nursing at times. William did the farming for a widow lady named Day, who kept a lodging-house about four miles out from Goulburn. She was a very fine, active, kind-hearted woman, and for the next ten years, was a true friend to the Chittendens. In fact, the best friend they ever had in Australia. Mary used often to go up to her house, when not out nursing, for a week at a time to assist the widow with her work. Goulburn is a very large, handsome, inland town in Australia, situated in the midst of a rich farming district. On one side of the town, away to the left, was a large hill, covered with fine timber. The Chittendens had rented a small house about four miles out from Goulburn.