MORMON WOMEN OF MARTHA WASHINGTON'S TIME—AUNT RHODA RICHARDS—WIFE OF THE FIRST MORMON BISHOP—HONORABLE WOMEN OF ZION.

The heroic conduct of the Mormon women, in their eventful history, is not strange, nor their trained sentiments of religious liberty exaggerated in the action of their lives; for it must not be forgotten that many a sister among the Latter-day Saints had lived in the time of the Revolution, and had shown examples not unworthy of Martha Washington herself. Of course those women of the Revolution are now sleeping with the just, for nearly fifty years, have passed since the rise of the church, but there are still left those who can remember the father of their country, and the mothers who inspired the war of independence. We have such an one to present in the person of Aunt Rhoda Richards, the sister of Willard, the apostle, and first cousin of Brigham Young.

Scarcely had the British evacuated New York, and Washington returned to his home at Mount Vernon, when Rhoda Richards was born. She was the sister of Phineas, Levi, and Willard Richards—three of illustrious memory in the Mormon Church—was born August 8th, 1784, at Hopkington, Mass., and now, at the advanced age of ninety-three, thus speaks of her life and works. She says:

"During the early years of my life I was much afflicted with sickness, but, through the mercies and blessings of my Heavenly Father, at the advanced age of nearly ninety-three, I live, and am privileged to bear my individual testimony, that for myself I know that Joseph Smith was a true prophet of the living God; and that the work which he, as an humble instrument in the hands of God, commenced in this, the evening of time, will not be cut short, save as the Lord himself, according to his promise, shall cut short his work in righteousness.

"My first knowledge of the Mormons was gained through my cousin, Joseph Young, though I had previously heard many strange things concerning them. I lay on a bed of sickness, unable to sit up, when Cousin Joseph came to visit at my father's house. I remember distinctly how cautiously my mother broached the subject of the new religion to him. Said she, 'Joseph, I have heard that some of the children of my sister, Abigail Young, have joined the Mormons. How is it?' Joseph replied, 'It is true, Aunt Richards, and I am one of them!' It was Sabbath day, and in the morning Cousin Joseph attended church with my parents; but in the afternoon he chose to remain with my brother William, and myself, at home. He remarked that he could not enjoy the meeting, and in reply I said, 'I do not see why we might not have a meeting here.' My cousin was upon his feet in an instant, and stood and preached to us—my brother and myself—for about half an hour, finishing his discourse with, 'There, Cousin Rhoda, I don't know but I have tired you out!' When he sat down I remarked that meetings usually closed with prayer. In an instant he was on his knees, offering up a prayer. That was the first Mormon sermon and the first Mormon prayer I ever listened to. I weighed his words and sentences well. It was enough. My soul was convinced of the truth. But I waited a year before being baptized. During that time I read the books of the church, and also saw and heard other elders, among whom was my cousin, Brigham Young, and my brothers, Phineas, Levi, and Willard; all of which served to strengthen my faith and brighten my understanding.

"A short time after I was baptized and confirmed I was greatly afflicted with the raging of a cancer, about to break out in my face. I knew too well the symptoms, having had one removed previously. The agony of such an operation, only those who have passed through a like experience can ever imagine. The idea of again passing through a like physical suffering seemed almost more than humanity could endure. One Sabbath, after the close of the morning service, I spoke to the presiding elder, and acquainted him with my situation, requesting that I might be administered to, according to the pattern that God had given, that the cancer might be rebuked and my body healed. The elder called upon the sisters present to unite their faith and prayers in my behalf, and upon the brethren to come forward and lay their hands upon me, and bless me in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, according to my desire. It was done, and I went home completely healed, and rejoicing in the God of my salvation. Many times have I since been healed by the same power, when, apparently, death had actually seized me as his prey. I would not have it understood, however, that I have been a weakly, sickly, useless individual all my life. Those who have known me can say quite to the contrary. Some of our ambitious little girls and working women would doubtless be interested in a simple sketch of some few things which I have accomplished by manual labor. When myself and my sisters were only small girls, our excellent mother taught us how to work, and in such a wise manner did she conduct our home education that we always loved to work, and were never so happy as when we were most usefully employed. We knit our own and our brothers' stockings, made our own clothes, braided and sewed straw hats and bonnets, carded, spun, wove, kept house, and did everything that girls and women of a self-sustaining community would need to do. The day that I was thirteen years old I wove thirteen yards of cloth; and in twenty months, during which time I celebrated my eightieth birthday, I carded twenty weight of cotton, spun two hundred and fifteen balls of candlewicking, and two hundred run of yarn, prepared for the weaver's loom; besides doing my housework, knitting socks, and making shirts for 'my boys' (some of the sons of my brothers). I merely make mention of these things as samples of what my life-work has been. I never was an idler, but have tried to be useful in my humble way, 'doing what my hands found to do with my might.' I now begin to feel the weight of years upon me, and can no longer do as I have done in former years for those around me; but, through the boundless mercies of God, I am still able to wash and iron my own clothes, do up my lace caps, and write my own letters. My memory is good, and as a general thing I feel well in body and mind. I have witnessed the death of many near and dear friends, both old and young. In my young days I buried my first and only love, and true to that affiance, I have passed companionless through life; but am sure of having my proper place and standing in the resurrection, having been sealed to the prophet Joseph, according to the celestial law, by his own request, under the inspiration of divine revelation."

A very beautiful incident is this latter—the memory of her early love, for whose sake she kept sacred her maiden life. The passage is exquisite in sentiment, although emanating from a heart that has known the joys and sorrows of nearly a hundred years.

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Lydia Partridge, the aged relict of the first bishop of the Mormon Church, may well accompany the venerable sister of Willard Richards.

She was born September 26, 1793, in the town of Marlboro, Mass., her parents' names being Joseph Clisbee and Merriam Howe. The course of events [finally?] brought her to Ohio, where she made the acquaintance of, and married, Edward Partridge. Her husband and herself were proselyted into the Campbellite persuasion by Sidney Rigdon; but they soon afterwards became converts to Mormonism, and Mr. Partridge thereupon commenced his career as a laborer in the ministry of the church. They were among the first families to locate in Missouri, and also among the first to feel the sting of persecution in that State. Removing finally to Nauvoo, her husband there died. In the after-wanderings of the saints in search of a home in the wilderness she accompanied them. It may be briefly said of her that now, after forty-five years in the church, she is as firm and steadfast as ever in her faith, and is one of the staunchest advocates of polygamy.

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Next comes Margaret T. M. Smoot, wife of Bishop Smoot, with the testimony of her life.

She was born in Chester District, South Carolina, April 16th, 1809. Her father, Anthony McMeans, was a Scotchman by birth, emigrating to America at an early age, and settling in South Carolina, where he resided at the breaking out of the Revolutionary war. Fired with patriotic zeal, he immediately enlisted in the ranks, and continued fighting in the cause of liberty until the close of the war, when he returned to his home, where he remained until his death. Her mother was a Hunter, being of Irish extraction. Her grandfather Hunter also served in the Revolutionary war, being an intimate friend of Gen. Washington. For these reasons Mrs. Smoot is justly proud of her lineage. Her husband, the bishop, being also of revolutionary descent, they as a family well exemplify the claim made elsewhere, that the Mormons were originally of the most honored and patriotic extraction.

She embraced the Mormon faith in 1834, and was married to Mr. Smoot the following year, in the State of Kentucky. In 1837 they went to Far West, Mo., and their history thence to Utah is the oft-told story of outrage and persecution. It is proper to remark, however, that their son, William, was one of the original pioneers, and that their family was among the first company that entered the valley.

Sister Smoot is known in the church as one of the most illustrious examples of the "first wives" who accepted and gave a true Israelitish character and sanctity to the "patriarchal order of marriage;" while the long-sustained position of her husband as Mayor of Salt Lake City, enhances the effect of her social example.

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A few incidents from the life of Sister Hendricks, whose husband was wounded in "Crooked River battle," where the apostle David Patten fell, may properly be here preserved.

Of that mournful incident, she says: "A neighbor stopped at the gate and alighted from his horse; I saw him wipe his eyes, and knew that he was weeping; he came to the door and said, 'Mr. Hendricks wishes you to come to him at the Widow Metcalf's. He is shot.' I rode to the place, four miles away, and there saw nine of the brethren, pale and weak from their wounds, being assisted into the wagons that were to take them to their homes. In the house was my husband, and also David Patten, who was dying. My husband was wounded in the neck in such a manner as to injure the spinal column, which paralyzed his extremities. Although he could speak, he could not move any more than if he were dead."

Mr Hendricks lived until 1870, being an almost helpless invalid up to that time. Their son William was a member of the famous battalion. Mrs. H. still survives, and is the happy progenitress of five children, sixty-three grandchildren, and twenty-three great-grandchildren.

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The wife of Bishop McRae deserves remembrance in connection with an incident of the battle of Nauvoo. When it was determined to surrender that city, the fugitive saints were naturally anxious to take with them in their flight whatever of property, etc., they could, that would be necessary to them in their sojourn in the wilderness. It will be seen at once that nothing could have been of more service to them than their rifles and ammunition. Hence, with a refinement of cruelty, the mobbers determined to rob them of these necessaries. They accordingly demanded the arms and ammunition of all who left the city, and searched their wagons to see that none were secreted. Mrs. McRae was determined to save a keg of powder, however, and so she ensconced herself in her wagon with the powder keg as a seat, covering it with the folds of her dress. Soon a squad of the enemy came to her wagon, and making as if to search it, asked her to surrender whatever arms and ammunition she might have on hand. She quietly kept her seat, however, and coolly asked them, "How many more times are you going to search this wagon to-day?" This question giving them the impression that they had already searched the wagon, they moved on, and Mrs. McRae saved her powder.

She still lives, and is at present a much respected resident of Salt Lake City.

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Mrs. Mary M. Luce, a venerable sister, now in her seventy-seventh year, and a resident of Salt Lake City, deserves a passing mention from the fact that her religion has caused her to traverse the entire breadth of the continent, in order to be gathered with the saints. She was a convert of Wilford Woodruff, who visited her native place while on mission to the "Islands of the Sea" (Fox Islands, off the Coast of Maine). In 1838, with her family, she journeyed by private conveyance from Maine to Illinois, joining the saints at Nauvoo. This was, in those days, a very long and tedious journey, consuming several months' time. During the persecutions of Nauvoo, she was reduced to extreme poverty; but, after many vicissitudes, was enabled to reach Salt Lake City the first year after the pioneers, where she has since continued to reside. In her experience she has received many tests and manifestations of the divine origin of the latter-day work, and testifies that "these are the happiest days" of her life.

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Elizabeth H., wife of William Hyde, for whom "Hyde Park," Utah, was named, was born in Holliston, Middlesex county, Mass., October 2d, 1813. She was the daughter of Joel and Lucretia Bullard, and a descendant, on the maternal side, from the Goddards. Her mother and herself were baptized into the Mormon faith in 1838, and they moved to Nauvoo in 1841, where Elizabeth was married to Elder Hyde, in 1842. He was on mission most of the time up to 1846, when they left Nauvoo, in the exodus of the church. Her husband joined the Mormon battalion in July following, returning home in the last month of 1847. In the spring of 1849, with their three surviving children, they journeyed to Salt Lake Valley, where they resided until about seventeen years ago, when they removed to Cache Valley, and founded the settlement which bears their name. Mr. Hyde died in 1872, leaving five wives and twenty-two children. "It is my greatest desire," says sister Hyde, "that I may so live as to be accounted worthy to dwell with those who have overcome, and have the promise of eternal lives, which is the greatest gift of God."

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Nor should we forget to mention "Mother Sessions," another of the last-century women who have gathered to Zion. Her maiden name was Patty Bartlett, and she was born February 4th, 1795, in the town of Bethel, Oxford county, Maine. She was married to David Sessions in 1812, and survives both him and a second husband. Herself and husband joined the church in 1834, moved to Nauvoo in 1840, and left there with the exiled saints in 1846. In the summer of 1847 they crossed the plains to the valley, Mrs. Sessions, although in her fifty-third year, driving a four-ox team the entire distance.

Mother Sessions is a model of zeal, frugality, industry and benevolence. When she entered the valley she had but five cents, which she had found on the road; now, after having given many hundreds of dollars to the perpetual emigration fund, tithing fund, etc., and performing unnumbered deeds of private charity, she is a stockholder in the "Z. C. M. I." to the amount of some twelve or thirteen thousand dollars, and is also possessed of a competence for the remainder of her days; all of which is a result of her own untiring efforts and honorable business sagacity. As a testimony of her life she says, "I am now eighty-two years of age. I drink no tea nor coffee, nor spirituous liquors; neither do I smoke nor take snuff. To all my posterity and friends I say, do as I have done, and as much better as you can, and the Lord will bless you as he has me."

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Mrs. R. A. Holden, of Provo, is another of the revolutionary descendants. Her grandfather, Clement Bishop, was an officer in the revolutionary war, was wounded, and drew a pension until his death. Mrs. H., whose maiden name was Bliss, was born in 1815, in Livingston county, N. Y., and after marrying Mr. Holden, in 1833, moved to Illinois, where, in 1840, they embraced the gospel. Their efforts to reach the valley and gather with the church form an exceptional chapter of hardship and disappointment. Nevertheless, they arrived at Provo in 1852, where they have since resided; Mrs. Holden being, since 1867, the president of the Relief Society of the Fourth Ward of that city.

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Sister Diantha Morley Billings is another of the aged and respected citizens of Provo. She was born August 23d, 1795, at Montague, Mass. About the year 1815 she moved to Kirtland, Ohio, and there was married to Titus Billings. Herself and husband and Isaac Morley, her brother, were among the first baptized in Kirtland. They were also among the first to remove to Missouri, whence they were driven, and plundered of all they possessed, by the mobs that arose, in that State, against the saints. Her husband was in Crooked River battle, standing by Apostle Patten when he fell.

They reached Utah in 1848, and were soon thereafter called to go and start settlements in San Pete. They returned to Provo in 1864, and in 1866 Mr. Billings died.

While living in Nauvoo, after the expulsion from Missouri, Mrs. Billings was ordained and set apart by the prophet Joseph to be a nurse, in which calling she has ever since been very skillful.

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Mrs. Amanda Wimley, although but eight years a resident of Utah, was converted to Mormonism in Philadelphia, in the year 1839, under the preaching of Joseph the prophet, being baptized shortly afterward. For thirty years the circumstances of her life were such that it was not expedient for her to gather with the church; she nevertheless maintained her faith, and was endowed to a remarkable degree with the gift of healing, which she exercised many times with wonderful effect in her own family. Journeying to Salt Lake City some eight years since, on a visit merely, she has now fully determined to permanently remain, as the representative of her father's house, to "do a work for her ancestry and posterity."

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Polly Sawyer Atwood, who died in Salt Lake City, Oct. 16th, 1876, is worthy of a passing notice, because of her many good deeds in the service of God. She was another of the last century women, being born in 1790, in Windham, Conn. Her parents were Asahel and Elizabeth Sawyer. Herself and husband, Dan Atwood, first heard the gospel in 1839, and were straightway convinced of its truth. They journeyed to Salt Lake in 1850. Here she displayed in a remarkable manner the works and gifts of faith, and was much sought after by the sick and afflicted, up to the day of her death, which occurred in her 86th year. It is worthy of mention that she was the mother of three men of distinction in the church—Millen Atwood, who was one of the pioneers, a missionary to England, captain of the first successful handcart company, and a member of the high council; Miner Atwood, who was a missionary to South Africa, and also a member of the high council; and Samuel Atwood, who is one of the presiding bishops of the Territory.

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In connection with Mother Atwood may also properly be mentioned her daughter-in-law, Relief C. Atwood, the wife of Millen, who received the gospel in New Hampshire, in 1843, and in 1845 emigrated to Nauvoo. This was just before the expulsion of the church from that city, and in a few months she found herself in the wilderness. At winter quarters, after the return of the pioneers, she married Mr. Atwood, one of their number, and with him in 1848 journeyed to the valley. Their trials were at first nigh overwhelming, but in a moment of prayer, when they were about to give up in despair, the spirit of the Lord rested upon Mr. A., and he spoke in tongues, and at the same time the gift of interpretation rested upon her. It was an exhortation to renewed hope and trust, which so strengthened them that they were able to overcome every difficulty. Her family has also received many striking manifestations of the gift of healing—so much so that she now bears testimony that "God is their great physician, in whom she can safely trust."

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Sister Sarah B. Fiske, who was born in Potsdam, St. Lawrence Co., N. Y., in 1819, is another of revolutionary ancestry; her grandfathers, on both paternal and maternal side, having served in the revolutionary war. In 1837 she was married to Ezra H. Allen. Shortly thereafter they were both converted to Mormonism, and in 1842 moved to Nauvoo. In the spring of '43 they joined the settlement which was attempted at a place called Shockoquan, about twenty-five miles north of Nauvoo. Journeying with the saints on the exodus, she stopped at Mount Pisgah, while her husband went forward in the battalion. Nearly two years passed, and word came that the brethren of the battalion were coming back. With the most intense anxiety she gathered every word of news concerning their return, and at last was informed that they were at a ferry not far away. She hastened to make herself ready and was about to go out to meet him when the word was brought that her husband had been murdered by Indians in the California mountains. She was handed her husband's purse, which had been left by the Indians, and which contained his wages and savings. This enabled her to procure an outfit, and in 1852 she journeyed to the valley.

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Here let us mention another octogenarian sister in the person of Jane Neyman, daughter of David and Mary Harper, who was born in Westmoreland Co., Pa., in 1792. She embraced the gospel in 1838, and became at once endowed with the gift of healing, which enabled her to work many marvelous cures, among which may be mentioned the raising of two infants from apparent death, they each having been laid out for burial. Herself and family received an unstinted share of the persecutions of the saints, in Missouri, and afterwards in Nauvoo, in which latter place her husband died. Her daughter, Mary Ann Nickerson, then residing on the opposite side of the river from Nauvoo, on the occasion of the troubles resulting in the battle of Nauvoo, made cartridges at her home, and alone in her little skiff passed back and forth across the Mississippi (one mile wide at that point), delivering the cartridges, without discovery. While the battle was raging she also took seven persons, including her mother, on a flat-boat, and by her unaided exertions ferried them across the river. This heroic lady is now living in Beaver, Utah.

Mrs. Neyman, now in her 85th year, testifies concerning the truth of the gospel as revealed through Joseph Smith: "I know it is the work of God, by the unerring witness of the Holy Ghost."

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Malvina Harvey Snow, daughter of Joel Harvey, was born in the State of Vermont, in 1811. She was brought into the church under the ministry of Orson Pratt, in 1833, he being then on mission in that section. Her nearest neighbor was Levi Snow, father of Apostle Erastus Snow. The Snow family mostly joined the new faith, and Malvina and her sister Susan journeyed with them to Missouri. At Far West she was married to Willard Snow, in 1837, and in about two years afterward they were driven from the State. They settled at Montrose, but, while her husband was on mission to England, she moved across the river to Nauvoo, the mob having signified their intention to burn her house over her head. In 1847 they started for Utah, from Council Bluffs, in the wake of the pioneers, arriving in the valley in the fall of that year. Says Sister Malvina, "My faithful sister, Susan, was with me from the time I left our father's house in Vermont, and when we arrived in Utah my husband took her to wife. She bore him a daughter, but lost her life at its birth. I took the infant to my bosom, and never felt any difference between her and my own children. She is now a married woman. In 1850 my husband was called on mission to Denmark, from which he never returned. He was buried in the Atlantic, being the only missionary from Utah that was ever laid in the sea. I raised my five children to manhood and womanhood, and have now lived a widow twenty-six years. Hoping to finally meet my beloved husband and family, never again to part, I am patiently waiting the hour of reunion. May the Lord Jesus Christ help me to be faithful to the end."

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Sister Caroline Tippits, whose maiden name was Pew, deserves to be mentioned as one of the earlier members of the church, having embraced the gospel in 1831. Shortly afterwards she joined the saints in Jackson county, Mo., and during the persecutions that ensued, endured perhaps the most trying hardships that were meted out to any of the sisters. Driven out into the midst of a prairie, by the mob, in the month of January, with a babe and two-years-old child, she was compelled to sleep on the ground with only one thin quilt to cover them, and the snow frequently falling three or four inches in a night. She came to Utah with the first companies, and is reckoned among the most faithful of the saints.

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Julia Budge, first wife of Bishop William Budge, may be presented as one of the women who have made polygamy honorable. She was born in Essex, England, where she was baptized by Chas. W. Penrose, one of the most distinguished of the English elders, who afterwards married her sister—a lady of the same excellent disposition. The bishop is to-day the husband of three wives, whose children have grown up as one family, and the wives have lived together "like sisters." No stranger, with preconceived notions, would guess that they sustained the very tender relation of sister-wives. Their happy polygamic example is a sort of "household word" in the various settlements over which the bishop has presided.

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Sister Nancy A. Clark, daughter of Sanford Porter, now a resident of Farmington, Utah, has had a most remarkable personal experience as a servant of God. When a little girl, less than eight years of age, residing with her parents in Missouri, she, in answer to prayer, received the gift of tongues, and became a great object of interest among the saints. During and succeeding the persecutions in that State, and while her father's family were being driven from place to place, her oft-repeated spiritual experiences were the stay and comfort of all around her. Her many visions and experiences would fill a volume. It is needless to say that she is among the most faithful and devoted of the sisterhood.

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A pretty little instance of faith and works is related by Martha Granger, the wife of Bishop William G. Young, which is worthy of record. In September, 1872, the bishop was riding down Silver Creek Canyon, on his way to Weber river, when he became sunstruck, and fell back in his wagon, insensible. His horses, as if guided by an invisible hand, kept steadily on, and finally turned into a farmer's barnyard. The farmer, who was at work in the yard, thinking some team had strayed away, went up to catch them, when he discovered the bishop (a stranger to him) in the wagon. He thought at first that the stranger was intoxicated, and so hitched the team, thinking to let him lay and sleep it off. But upon a closer examination, failing to detect the fumes of liquor, he concluded the man was sick, and calling assistance, took him into the shade of a haystack, and cared for him. Still the bishop remained unconscious, and the sun went down, and night came on.

Forty miles away, the bishop's good wife at home had called her little seven-years-old child to her knee, to say the usual prayer before retiring. As the little child had finished the mother observed a far-off look in its eyes, and then came the strange and unusual request: "Mother, may I pray, in my own words, for pa? he's sick." "Yes, my child," said the mother, wonderingly. "Oh Lord, heal up pa, that he may live and not die, and come home," was the faltering prayer; and in that same moment the bishop, in that far-off farmer's yard, arose and spoke; and in a few moments was himself praising God for the succor that he knew not had been invoked by his own dear child.