We usually save poetry for afternoon posts, but, in light of the essays on plural marriage released last week on the Gospel Topics pages at lds.org, I thought I’d ask for your thoughts on a poem, published in 1886 (so, at the height of the federal “Raid” against Mormondom, and four years before the Manifesto), written by Susa Young Gates, a daughter of Brigham Young.
On one level, it’s pretty bad poetry, nearly doggerel, and having said that we probably don’t need more comment on its structure. But I’d like your thoughts on why you think such a poem was published, especially in the Juvenile Instructor aimed as much at children as at their teachers. Is it pure Victorian sentimentality? an attempt to give meaning to the suffering of families divided by the need to hide one or more parents from prosecution by federal agents? a hope of winning sympathy from outside the Church? something else?
Or, if you don’t care to speculate on its purpose, are there any ideas or images that you like? intensely dislike? questions about the Raid or the Underground?
There are no wrong answers, as far as I’m concerned, within the usual bounds of Keepa being a forum for believing members of the LDS church, and those who are willing to respect that belief.
In Exile
By Homespun [Susa Young Gates]
She held the letter in her hand –
’Twas wet with many a tear –
It told of those in that far land
She’d left for one long year;
’Twas penned by one she dearly loved:
Her husband’s other wife;
Their lives had in one channel moved
For nearly half a life.
“Your little Georgie’s grown so big –
He struts about in pants –
And looks so cute in such a rig:
He’s spoiled by both his aunts:
He often comes and questions me
In such a curious way;
My answers are not very free –
I don’t know what to say.
“‘Dear auntie, when will mamma come
To us, no more to part?
A year ago she left our home
To comfort papa’s heart.
And what does mamma look like now?
And does she love me yet?
Why don’t she come and teach me how
To tame my rabbit pet?
“‘Say auntie, why does papa roam?
Why does he have to go
And leave behind his happy home,
And us who love him so?
Where can the devil find such men
To make this awful raid?
My papa is the bestest man
The Lord has ever made.
“‘Why didn’t papa come right home
When auntie’s Robin died?
He surely would if he had known
How hard Aunt Nennie cried.
And who will tell him how we laid
Our Robin in the ground,
So close to Albert, ’neath the shade
Of trees right o’er the mound?
“‘And do they know that auntie’s left
Without a baby-boy?
Could papa send one in the mail
Just like he sent my toy?’
I caught him up then in my arms
And held him up to me;
‘Say, auntie, I can ’member once
I sat on mamma’s knee.’”
She could not read another word,
Her heart was crushed with pain:
She longed to take her Georgie to
Her aching heart again.
She saw her face was growing dim
To those sweet baby eyes,
She felt she echoed with a pang
His childish questions wise.
What have they done that they must live
Exiled from friends and home?
When would the voice of God cry out?
When would His justice come?
But sweet and low the whispering voice
God breathed in her heart –
“The end soon comes, thy care must be
To nobly bear thy part.”
(1886)
1886, eh? The year my 2nd-Great Grandpa was arrested for marrying a 16-year-old in the Logan Temple and ended up over 3 years in the Territorial Pen. He remained faithful to her and his first wife until he died in 1923.
Your best guess: Do you suppose items like this frightened him at all or made his bride think twice, or do you think items like this made them more defiant and more willing to endure the prospective suffering?
This seems to be reminiscent of D&C 121, encouraging patience, endurance, and faith that all would be right in the end. I suspect that few at the time anticipated that the end would be what it turned out to be, abandoning the practice of plural marriage.
Interesting to see that this is turned somewhat upside down in point of view, of a sister wife separated from her own children while in hiding with her husband, where I would have thought that the more common view would have been of a father separated from his children. My maternal grandfather remembered as a very young child (born in 1897) that his father, who was living with his first wife, would come and visit hes second family only occasionally, and then at night, to avoid federal marshals in Idaho, who were still looking for evidence of the continuing practice of polygamy. Strange times, and difficult situations for those that were involved.
My 2nd-great Gramps was in defiance even though he tried to be a little secret about things. After prison, before statehood, he was still harassed by Marshall Dyer, gave him the slip once, and the Marshall said to the first wife that Gramps should just leave the country (meaning, I think Canada or Mexico). He didn’t. But the church sent him on a mission to England w/o any wife. His second wife gave birth to a daughter 6 months after he left.
His young wife defiantly visited him on the wall at the pen but they were not allowed to speak. And her parents would visit him at the pen and bring him fruit. It was mostly defiance and very weird to my sensibilities but I love and respect them anyway.
Not to derail, but in a larger context, my old Welsh buddy temple worker asked me the other night about how many generations it takes for a criminal progenitor to be a hero rather than an embarrassment. (We Welsh typically have that problem). You are ashamed of a criminal father, embarrassed by a criminal grandfather, but does a great-grandpa become a hero? I think my 2nd-great-Grandfather in the pen for plural marriage is a hero.
Thanks, kevinf and Grant. Your stories illustrate still more ways that the plural marriage system and the harassment by marshals played out in Mormondom — no stereotypical story does it justice!
Grant, in the case of prisoners for conscience sake, I don’t think we have to wait so many generations to recognize them as heroes!
well, the generation after 2nd-Great Gramps was a little embarrassed.
And we’re embarrassed about their embarrassment! Shame on them. 🙂
It is interesting to think about why this was published in a magazine for children. I suppose its purpose is to show that Mother still misses her child, and the child misses his parents despite the love of the “aunties”. This piece would validate the child’s feelings about the separation and remind him that his mother still cares about him.
So many ways to think about it, aren’t there, HokieKate? Thanks.
This may be like my great grandmother, Mehitable Cheney, who left Utah to live for three years in Manassa, Colorado. She had her young son with her, but he was from her first husband who died. When she married again, she was the fourth wife, so she was one who had to leave for the safety of the whole family.