The Wedding Dress (18 page)

August 29, 1852, was a clear, sunny Sabbath. Rebecca was imagining a touch of autumn in the air as she and Ann walked toward the Tabernacle. Mr. Samuels had left early to attend a priesthood meeting, and the children had long since run off to be with their friends.

“Law! those peaches should be ready in another week or so,” Ann exclaimed. “I'd like to get a few of them. It's been a long time since I've tasted a juicy, ripe peach.”

“Oh, Ann, don't mention food. This is apt to be a long session this morning, and there's more to come this afternoon.”

“Don't those clouds look like a bridal veil trailing out behind a pretty little bride?” Ann asked comfortably. “Her dress is a mite long, but it'll do.” She turned to Rebecca. “Your Joshua was supposed to have your dress sent. Hope it isn't lost.”

“I do too,” Rebecca said slowly. “I've thought of it several times this year. Wish I'd told him never mind. Those mail runs aren't dependable.”

“Too bad you couldn't bring it.”

“My mother set a lot of store on that dress. Before she died she told me to take good care of the trunk. I'm not too certain what she meant, but she told me the trunk held my only hope. I guess she was meaning the dress, saying it's important to make a good marriage.”

The band was playing by the time they took their places. More than one foot tapped time, and Rebecca was feeling the promise of an exciting day. President Young was the first speaker, and the morning passed in a froth of jokes and laughter.

When Rebecca and Ann took their seats for the afternoon session, Ann said, “I'll settle me down for a good sermon or a good nap. I can't sit down in the afternoon with no call to stay awake.”

“Brother Pratt is a good speaker,” Rebecca said. She was watching the people around her. Directly in front were two women chatting. Their precise British accents intrigued Rebecca.

Suddenly one woman poked the other. “There, Brother Pratt is saying it. He's bringing it all out in the open now. He's saying that it's God's will for us to practice plural marriage. Law, what will Washington do now?” Someone hissed, and the women were silent.

Orson Pratt was saying, “I want you to understand these are not my ideas I'll be presenting to you. They are revelations given to the Prophet Joseph Smith by Jesus Christ. In the inspired translation of Genesis we find the preexistence of man explained. We know God has fathered all spirits. These spirits are waiting for us to provide tabernacles for them. This is our task on earth.”

As the sermon continued, Rebecca found some of the statements were hitting her, colliding with her thoughts. She heard: “God has provided plural marriage as necessary to our exaltation in the future world.” So it wasn't just a silly old man's ideas. “We are the most righteous society on this earth.” Righteous? Rebecca cringed. It was impossible to consider herself righteous.

“…one thousand million spirits every century, and they must have tabernacles provided for them.” Did all the still-born babies and the poor little children who died soon after birth count?

“There will be an endless increase of worlds.” The stars? We are to multiply without end? “The promises made to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob—your seed shall be as endless as the sand.” Well, most certainly one wife couldn't do it all, even in eternity. “To fail to do the works of Abraham will deprive a man of his blessings. Denying the provisions of the church to make marriage eternal will end forever a man's chance of marriage and children in the hereafter.”

Brother Pratt raised his voice and lifted his arm. “And what's to become of those who have the principle revealed to them and who reject it?” A voice echoed through the Tabernacle, “They will be damned.” Rebecca caught her breath. For one moment her heart nearly failed her, and then she heard the apostle explain that being damned wasn't always forever. The erring individual would lose only the privilege of exaltation in the coming eternity.

When Rebecca and Ann were finally free of the noise and press of the crowd, Ann breathed a sigh of relief, settled her collar and smoothed her hair. “I declare!” she exclaimed, “that was an excited crowd. But that's to be expected. That's the first time the apostles have come right out in meeting and preached these things.”

“I thought they'd been living it for a long time.”

“They have, least some of them ‘way back to Joseph's time. Pressure's kept them from talking too free. I heard there was to be no announcement until we were a state, but I guess they're all pretty confident that Washington won't give us problems because of the freedom of religion part in the Constitution.”

“Well, I still don't like the idea of it all, and I'm glad Brother Brigham hasn't seen fit to put the pressure on. I'd just plain turn a deaf ear.”

“Rebecca, you've no call to be selfish. It's your duty just as much as the rest of us, to provide tabernacles.”

“Ann, you're not providing more. Looks to me like the Lord could use the instruments before His hand without troubling those of us who don't want the job.”

“I don't quite understand that either,” Ann said slowly. “I'm willing, but there's just no more little ones. But that doesn't relieve you of responsibility.”

She touched Rebecca's arm. “There's Brother Samuels hailing me. I'll join him now.” She was off, and Rebecca watched her retreating back. Responsibility? That sermon changed everything. She was suddenly filled with the need to run.

When Rebecca reached the cabin, she stood in the doorway and looked around. This place had been home for two years. Could it be she was rejecting it? The empty rocking chair and half-knitted sock, the chipped bowl on the table, the rumpled quilt at the foot of her bed were parts of a picture that no longer existed. Rolling up her sleeves, Rebecca bundled her possessions together.

Cora's place had been empty for months, and she found it easy to keep herself busy. She heated water to scrub the furniture and shelves above the table and bench.

She was finishing her dinner of bread and a mug of Brigham tea when she heard steps. Ann called, “Mercy, child, I didn't know you intended to move on the Sabbath. For shame, I'll tell Brother Brigham on you,” she teased, as she entered the cabin and placed a basket on the table. “I'm glad you took the bread, but that's not enough to keep your body and soul together. Here's some stew, and I brought you cornmeal for your breakfast. There's fatback, some dried beans and a melon from the garden.”

Ann took a deep breath and sat down on one end of the bench circling the room. “It was hard for you to get the whole load dumped on you at once, but it's not like we haven't known about it. Mostly we've guessed that sooner or later it'd be put to us to live the principle.”

She waited a moment before adding, “Becky, I don't like it any better than you, but that's the last time I'll say it. Brother Brigham has been after Brother Samuels for nigh onto a year to get with it. He was full of the rebels with the idea, but after today he's placed in the position of rejecting the covenant if he doesn't do as he's told.”

“It's horribly unfair. We're not allowed to live our lives as we wish.”

“You've got to obey every ordinance of the gospel if you want to make it in the hereafter.”

“I was thinking, fussing around here and trying to get settled, just like a nesting mouse. One of these days I'll wake up and realize I can fit in with it all. After all, it's become home.”

“You're not talking about this place, are you? Becky, you know how we feel. Since it's to be, I'd be pleased to have you as second wife.”

“Oh, Ann, this is too much. Give me time to get settled into the idea. Maybe next year we can talk about it again. Now I just want to teach school.”

Ann was shaking her head, disappointment clouding her eyes. “I have a feeling that he's not going to wait,” she said slowly.

Since the winter of 1851, Rebecca had wanted her own home, surrounded by her possessions and answerable to no one. Wouldn't that help her become the complete person who haunted her dreams?

In the short time before school began she did experience the beginnings. With confidence she moved around her domain, secure in her privacy and happy with freedom.

She slept late in the morning and ate dinner as the moon rode slowly across the sky. She had squaw corn for breakfast and pancakes swimming in molasses for dinner. She shoved her table in front of the fireplace and squandered three candles at once as she read until midnight.

One evening just after school had begun, there was a knock on Rebecca's door. She opened it and discovered Brother Samuels. He was carrying his hat and wearing a humble expression that poorly fit his commanding figure. Dismayed, but feeling cornered, she let him in.

Embarrassed but determined, he explained that it was the principle that brought him. “Brother Samuels,” she paused and discovered that the mentally rehearsed speech was there and ready. This was not like the monosyllable she had said to Lank. She liked and respected this hard-working farmer who was trying to live up to his religion and follow Brother Brigham. But there was Ann. As the words flowed, Rebecca realized that if it weren't for Ann—if Brother Samuels were a widower—she could be tempted. There was a family feeling that she was missing.

The words tumbled out, and they added up to a simple no. “You can live with the principle,” she told him, “but I can't. From one end of me to the other I am as full of rebellion as Brother Martin's old mules. That's a terrible way to enter marriage and an unthinkable way to inflict myself on others. Besides, I want to teach. I want to read books and find out about everything, and then I want to teach your children, not have them.”

“But you can't go on like this.” His voice was low. “You know I'm not thinking just about me. There's you and Ann. Brother Brigham makes it pretty clear that if you women are to be saved, it will be through accepting the principle and living your religion. No woman can reach the highest order of heaven unless her husband takes her. Don't you want us to make it together? Don't you want to be part of that kingdom of gods, a queen instead of an angel serving others?”

Rebecca was still shaking her head when he got to his feet and picked up his hat. “Remember, this is a revelation given by Joseph Smith. This is the new and everlasting covenant. It will never pass away. Until the second coming of Jesus Christ, it will endure. There is no other covenant to be had.”

Rebecca watched the door close softly, and then threw herself across the bed. While she sobbed and trembled, she determined to visit Brother Brigham.

The frost was on the pumpkins before Rebecca made her way through the city to the church offices. Probably she would not have gone even then if it hadn't been for goading questions that had arisen the past Sabbath.

During the passing of the sacrament, while she had grasped the fruit jar and lifted the water to her lips, she heard the bishop's words. “Take this and drink; it is a symbol of the covenant.” She had fallen to musing about the covenant and wondering how the water played a part in this symbolic offering.

When Brother Heber C. Kimball stood to speak, she abandoned her thoughts as she listened to him talk about the new Iron County settlement. She shivered at the stark picture he drew. As Rebecca thought of Cora and her babies, she heard him say, “You know who holds the keys offering life and salvation to all of us. Brother Brigham is prophet, priest, seer. If he wants you to settle Iron County and leave your comfortable homes here, then you'd better do it. He has the power to curse or bless you. He's got it by the authority of the Prophet Joseph Smith, and I can show you in his revelations where it says it.”

But today Rebecca was finding that the nearer she drew to the office of the President, the more reluctant she was becoming. Her steps slowed, and her mind raced. Did she dare demand that he satisfy her need to know? She shivered. But also she knew there was something rising up within that demanded satisfaction, and the rebel that was Rebecca would have her way.

She reviewed facts and rehearsed her speech. She walked twice around the block before she dared approach the building.

He had the first word before she could open her mouth. “Brother Samuels tells me”—he fastened her with those keen blue eyes; she was a bug on a pin—“that”—he paused—“you'll have nothing to do with his proposal. Young lady, you make my job very difficult. I'm trying hard to live up to my religion and to help you people live up to yours. That includes encouraging the reluctant to quit delaying and go along with the principle. Now I'm finding it a burden too, but if I feel I must live up to my religion, pray tell me, why shouldn't you?”

“Brother Brigham,” she began.

“Do you have some other gentleman in mind?”